(Good Vibrations -- Chapter Five)

Aftershocks

12:05 A.M.

YELLOW BARN, PENNSYLVANIA

One would think that the rest of the night would have to be anticlimactic following an event such as the spontaneous disappearance of an entire motel into the ground. However -- true to form -- Mulder and Scully had no such luck.

Were life a television program, there would have been a neat fade-out into black after the ground closed up after the motel, then a cut after the commercial break back to the next day, leaving viewers to skip over inconvenient facts like what happened next and how the incident got sorted out. As it was, the two federal agents were definitely still clinging onto the groundcover as the aftershocks of the freak earthquake dissipated, staring dumbly at the space where Billy's Shangri-La #2 had stood several moments before. After about a minute of mental processing and re-processing -- did that just happen? Yes, the motel's definitely gone . . . did that really just happen? -- they slowly turned their heads to regard one another in mutual confusion.

"Scully?" said Mulder very carefully, and got a series of stuttery breaths from his partner in reply. She blinked twice in rapid succession and glanced upwards. He followed her line of vision.

The others from the motel were standing in a circle around them.

The two federal agents got to their feet, trying to retain command of what dignity and self-respect they could while wearing only a nightgown and a pair of sweatpants, respectively. Scully also had on a distinctly shell-shocked expression, whereas Mulder looked wary, halfway as if he expected the sky to fall in on them next, or the locals to turn hostile and start taking potshots at them.

"What in hell's name did you just do?" demanded the same man who had confronted them outside the motel. He was almost definitely Billy, Mulder decided, cautiously bending down to pick his coat up off the ground where he had dropped it, trying to surreptitiously feel around in its pockets for his gun.

"With all due respect, sir, I believe we just saved your sorry ass from certain death," said Scully coolly, a faraway look in her eyes. Standing back up, Mulder shot her a please be careful look.

Billy pointed with a shaking finger towards the notably motel-free field. "My motel. . . ."

"Is gone?" supplied Mulder helpfully. Then wished he hadn't, as his gun also appeared to be missing in action.

Scully coughed discreetly into her hand and tried to regain her composure. "Ah . . . is this town on top of a fault line, by any chance?" It has to be, doesn't it?

"No! It's not!" hollered Billy. "What did you do!"

"Sir, if you're insinuating that we had something to do with a natural geological process-"

"It's not natural! Yellow Barn has never, ever had an earthquake before, and-" Billy broke off, seething. He ground his teeth, staring at the partners. "You're FBI, you said?" he continued in a dangerous tone.

Scully fished around in her own coat pocket for her badge.

"I don't want to see it," snapped Billy. "I just want to know what the hell the government has to do with destroying honest citizens' welfares!"

"Hey," broke in the accountant Scully had met in the hallway earlier that night, stepping forwards. He was quite taken with her nightgown. "Mr. Ackroyd, I don't think anyone can be held accountable for the mystic workings of Nature!" There was a murmur of agreement from the predominantly New Age crowd that surrounded them.

Billy gave an unhappy laugh. "Yeah, well . . . I'm surprised you're saying that."

"What d'you mean?" The accountant bristled.

"Weren't you the one who said you saw military people hanging around here just the other day?" demanded the motel owner.

Mulder and Scully exchanged a glance.

"Up to no good, you said they were!" continued Billy, triumphant.

The accountant cringed. "I didn't know what they were doing, I just said it was strange that they were here! And, uh, they were military, right? These guys are FBI!"

"Same difference," called out a young woman from the crowd, looking exceptionally displeased to have been dragged out into the woods at the current ungodly hour. "They're all government. Obviously they're all in it together!"

Scully, who had self-consciously put on her coat, held out her hands placatingly. "I assure you, there was no way we could have had prior knowledge that-" She broke off suddenly, feeling dizzy. Did I? -- what-

The crowd began to murmur ominously.

"Obviously you did know what was going on," snapped Billy. "Charlotte here says she saw you messing with the smoke detectors right before the alarms went off."

The receptionist, his granddaughter, shrugged and looked as if she wanted to disappear. The motel evacuees' mutterings grew louder, and the circle began to press gradually inwards. Both agents could feel the situation slipping even further out of their control.

"I'm gonna get the government to pay me back for the loss of my motel," yelled Billy.

"I left all my good clothes in there!"

"And my Tarot cards. . . ."

"My stuff was in there, too-"

"My wallet!"

Mulder shook his head, furious. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled, flinging out his arms and silencing the crowd. "She just saved your lives, and you're arguing about why she did it? Isn't it more than enough that you all got out safely!"

There was a moment of quietness.

"You want to know why the motel is gone? Good! So do I! I have no fucking idea why the motel is gone, either! If you find out, that's great!" he continued in defiance, voice echoing through the woods. "But for God's sake, don't blame it on us! All we're looking for -- the only thing we're here to find is a man named Joseph Lowell. Does anyone here know where he is?" Mulder stopped, breathing heavily.

The group of people rustled. After a few seconds of silence, Mulder dropped his arms. "Thank you. That is all we wanted to know." He felt drained. Scully's small right hand was suddenly curled in and around his left one.

"I think it's important that we figure out how to stay safe now that we're out here," offered the accountant. "I mean . . . I'm from Chicago. I have no idea what lives in the woods, but what if it attacks us?"

Mulder saw Scully's eyes roll up to meet his, her lips silently framing the words "moth men" and cracking into a weary half-grin. He squeezed her hand.

"I'm not leaving here," declared a teenaged girl from the crowd. "I think something important is happening here, and I don't want to go until I find out what it is!" She planted her hands on her hips. The other New Agers shifted in agreement. "All right, where's the nearest 24-hour store? Isn't there anyplace we can get supplies or something?" she demanded.

"About a mile down the road," offered a sullen Billy, sensing that he was outnumbered and would probably not get the chance to lynch any FBI agents that night.

The girl tossed her hair. "Right, well, that's where I'm going. I'm sure I can find a tent and some clothes there."

"Some of us don't have wallets anymore," called out an aggrieved evacuee.

"We are as One in the Union of the Good Vibrations," said the placid accountant. "I'm sure that those of us with money will pitch in to help out the less fortunate."

Which is all very well and good for a spirit of camaraderie, but a mile is actually sort of a long way to walk along a rural highway in the dark when you're not wearing any shoes.

2:36 A.M.

THE FIELD NEXT TO WHERE "SHANGRI-LA #2" USED TO BE

"What confuses me is why we get to keep all their receipts."

Under the cover of their new "tent" -- several sheets tied together and propped up with sticks -- Scully rolled over in her new sleeping bag to regard Mulder. "Huh?"

Mulder gestured vaguely towards the corner in which a haphazard pile of paper stood. "That. There. Why." He yawned. "Wanna make a campfire?"

"I think they expect us to bring them back to the Bureau." Scully curled up, her hair spreading out on top of her new lumpy pillow. "Well. The government, anyway."

Mulder snorted gently. The tinny sound of a small portable radio drifted through the pre-dawn air and found its way into the agents' crude tent. Evidently, some of the motel's evictees had found some items in the local store to be more essential than the more traditional types of camping equipment. "Fat chance," he muttered. The two lapsed into a comfortable, companionable silence. Scully's eyelids began to droop down. She fought halfheartedly to keep her eyes open, watching the gentle rise and fall of her partner's chest, but soon found them shut anyway. Judy Garland's wistful recorded voice resonated in the background. And what was that other noise? -- sort of a quiet, off-key buzzing-

Scully's eyes re-opened slowly. "Mulder . . . ?"

"That's where you'll fi-ind mee. . . ."

Yes, he was definitely singing along. Although it wasn't really all that funny, Scully helplessly dissolved into a fit of giggles, burying her face in her pillow. In between paroxysms, she turned her face to glance back to her right, and saw him grinning at her. Scully hid her face again, trying ineffectively to hide her amusement. As the weight of the night caught up with her, she felt her eyes leaking hot tears in time with her laughs. Mulder's arm fell over and around her shoulders and they moved closer, tension ebbing away under the mutual force of exhaustion as they sank and collapsed into one another. Within seconds, the entwined pair were fast asleep.

When he dreamt he dreamt of her lips at midnight.

AUTHOR'S ENDNOTES

All right, thanks are in order for two very nice and undoubtedly discerning people named, respectively, Damandabear 2 and Blue Twilight. They reviewed and it made me happy. What more can I say? Check out their accounts, they've obviously got good taste.

So, I think the message here is clear – write me a note and get thanked in the Endnotes. Free publicity all around. What could be bad about that?

Gosh, I'm shameless.