"I'm pushing Zero, Where is my Hero? He's out there somewhere, left of the Middle." -From "Left of the Middle" by Natalie Imbruglia.

"Please let me explain..." Mulder started. He grasped Scully's hand protectively.

"No, there's no need. I know who you are...your faces have been all over the Telly for months. The real question is what am I going to do with you? Some storms knocked out our radio, and we're expecting more storms soon. Come now, follow me. I'll take you to a room where you can stay for a while. My name's Captain Smithy."

As Mulder helped her out of the crate, Scully threw up again.

"On second thought, maybe I should take you to sick-bay. Our ship medic could take a look at you. Maybe he'll give you something for your stomach."

"Why are you being so nice to us? We're wanted criminals, you know that," Scully said as she walked, leaning on Mulder for support.

"Yes, but you're really more like celebrities. When was the last time you saw yourself on TV?"

"It's been a few months," Mulder admitted.

"The world loves you guys! Sure, you're wanted by the FBI, the CIA, the NSA...to name a few. But still, the general public thinks you guys are heroes. There's been tons of public debates. The fact that they never found the body of the man you supposedly killed leads many people to believe you're innocent. Lots of folks don't think you got a fair trial. The last NBC opinion poll had 89% of American's believing you're innocent. But the reward out for you would make most turn you in anyway. Lucky for you radios are down. Now, here we are at the medic's office, Do you want to stay with her Mr. Mulder?"

"Yes, please."

"Let's do something fun today, John," Monica said as she set his breakfast on the table. He had finally fallen asleep around 3:00 AM, and had slept in until around noon when the smell of hot coffee woke him up. A coffeepot was one of the things she had purchased the previous day. An electric burner was another. She had used it to fry bacon and pancakes.

John, still half-asleep, ate absentmindedly. He rubbed his shoulder.

"What's wrong with your shoulder?" she asked.

"I think I slept on it funny. Actually, you slept on it funny."

"Oh, sorry. Let me fix that." Clearing her plate, she went and stood behind him. Her small hands worked his tense muscles.

"When did you learn to do this?" he moaned.

She shrugged. "I've always been a gifted masseuse. I used to charge my friends a dollar for a half-hour massage. I even thought about going to school for it."

"What made you join the FBI instead? That's quite a...ooh, ouch...jump."

"Sorry, I'll be more gentle. I really don't know. I guess I thought I could make a difference or something."

"Believe me, you have. So, what do you want to do today?"

Monica glanced down at herself. She was wearing the same clothes she'd worn the day before. Other than the two outfits she'd brought with from Canada, she had only a few other things she'd picked up here and there. "Let's go clothes shopping. You and I both need new wardrobes."

"Oh, Mon, I don't know. Shopping? That's not very fun."

"Sure it will be. I'll model for you." She bent down and kissed his ear, the massage complete.

"Well...I suppose. But I need a shower first."

"Yeah, me too..."

He looked up at her, then without a word they walked hand in hand to the bathroom.