The sheets fluttered like pale blue ghosts, the Egyptian cotton being lifted by the hot air that the oscillating fan was pushing around the room. Harm was sitting at the table wearing a pair of boxers holding a glass of ice water to his forehead as I lay on the floor wearing a lightweight silk nightie that would have been too embarrassing for me to wear were it not for the heat and the fact that the only witness to my scantily-clad form had taken me up against the wall less than an hour earlier.

"Why didn't we drive two blocks further to the place with air conditioning?" Harm whined.

"Because you said that you grew up in San Diego and could take the heat," I said with a self-satisfied grin. It was hot, sure, but I was much better at handing the heat than Harm was. I got up off the floor and moved over to his chair, curling up in his lap. "Why don't we get in that big empty bed over there... I promise the heat will be the last thing on your mind," I said with an innocent smile.

Harm tried to keep a straight face but he couldn't manage to do it for more than a minute before he caved and started laughing. He gathered me up and carried me over to the bed while chuckling and I smiled against his neck, whispering delicious things that I wanted to do to him in his ear.

We wrestled around on the bed for a few minutes before slowly undressing each other and making love again, slowly and tenderly this time, taking time to run our fingers over each other's flesh and kiss every inch of skin we could find. After we had both calmed down we curled up together and drifted off to sleep, savoring the time in each other's arms. We both knew this alone time would be rare in the coming days and weeks.

Screaming for help but knowing that she was only wasting her breath and tiring her lungs out with her cries when she needed all her lung power for flight, the young woman ran through the park that she had walked through every day both on her way to and on her way from work. She had always felt safe there, the swing sets and teeter-totters bringing about an innocence to the park while the soccer field and the basketball court tended to draw a slightly older and largely male demographic–one that she and her friends had been known to scope out from time to time on the weekends or after work if they had the time.

But the cute and sweaty guys were gone for the night and the wide-eyed children were long since tucked away in their beds, and all that she knew was that the man that was chasing her wasn't someone she wanted to let anywhere near her.

Her heels sunk into the earth, making each step even more difficult. She was regretting the fact that she had declined her co-worker's offer of a ride home. She had thought that he was just trying to con her into stopping for dinner with him, then maybe a movie, then to her place where he would clumsily 'make his move' while she tried to think of a way to get out of there without ruining their working relationship with something as fleeting as sex.

She would have gladly taken her grabby co-worker who wouldn't go any further than she let him over running as fast as she could through a park with some unknown, shadowy man chasing her, gaining on her, and reports of a serial rapist in the area making her even more aware of just how vulnerable she could be.

The heel of her left pump got stuck in a patch of sucking mud by the water fountain that was perpetually overflowing and she tugged her foot out of it, abandoning her right shoe on the next step, and she continued running, the fact that she was ruining her pair of pantyhose without any runs in them the farthest thought from her mind.

In high school she had played volleyball, preferring short bursts of motion and more focus on hand-eye co-ordination than long distance running. Now she did yoga and swam laps at the gym on sporadic weekends.

She was regretting letting her membership lapse three months earlier.

Almost to the side of the park near her apartment, she put on a burst of speed, hoping that her pursuer wouldn't continue chasing her once she got to the land of street lights and the neighborhood watch.

That morning she had been forced to take the long way around the park because the local high school was using the baseball diamond for their playoffs. She didn't remember that until she had stepped on a bat, the cool metal rolling on the packed dirt of the baseline between first and second.

Her head struck the ground and she was stunned for a moment.

That moment, she knew, had cost her everything.

I woke with a start, gasping for breath and drenched in sweat that had nothing to do with the still intense heat or the cardio workout that Harm had put me through. Harm lay beside me, sleeping peacefully, and I couldn't help but feel a jab of anger at the fact that he was sleeping like a baby while I was quaking and quivering, teetering on the edge of a full-on panic attack. Years of living on carriers and bases had trained Harm to sleep through pretty much anything, though he was usually pretty good at waking up when I had nightmares. It was like he knew that I needed him and sleep be damned. But, apparently our connection was down for the evening.

Both Harm and I had experience with precognitive dreams, though, seeing as what we did for a living was based largely on physical evidence, neither one of us tended to put much stock in our little flashes of the paranormal. Harm had experienced more than his share of odd moments while we were searching for his father, especially when we were on the carrier that his father had flown off of before he was transferred to the Ticonderoga. My 'psychic flashes', as Harm and I had taken to jokingly calling our little Miss Cleo moments, were usually centered around cases, though, which caused me more than a little stress considering the fact that most of the cases that harm and I worked were murder investigations and seeing the crime through the eyes of the victim–or, worse, the eyes of the killer–was bar none the most vile and nerve-wracking thing that I have ever experienced.

The biggest problem was, however, that, if they came–which did don't always–I usually didn't start getting the dreams until nearer to the end of the investigation, not right at the beginning.

So the fact that this was happening now was either a really, really bad sign, or it was a good sign with the drawback of another rape and possible murder within the next few hours.

"Shit," I groaned as I dragged myself out of bed. I pulled on Harm's shirt and grabbed my cell phone and my notebook from my purse before heading into the bathroom. I searched through my notebook until I found the card that Agent Scully had haded me at the base. Her number was on the front, her partner's on the back. I found it interesting that she only had a cell number listed while he had a cell and an office number listed. I figured it was just because Scully was a doctor and didn't spend enough time in her office to warrant the printing of the number. But that didn't matter because they wouldn't be anywhere near their offices at the moment.

I opted for Mulder, getting the feeling that he would be more likely to respond to my dream without scorn than his scientist of a partner was. Not to mention that, despite our talk earlier, I still didn't feel that comfortable around Dana Scully.

Two rings later the phone was answered. "Mulder." He didn't even sound like he had been pulled from sleep.

"Agent Mulder, it's Commander Meg Austin. We met earlier today," I said, my arm wrapped around my stomach that was clenching painfully as my memory flashed over the contents of my dream.

"Yes, I remember. I also remember that we already covered the name thing," Mulder said. I could hear a smile in his voice. That was good. So many times calling someone in the middle of the night, especially when you barely know them or don't know them at all, will put you in their bad books for the rest of eternity.

"Right," I said, smiling weakly. "Sorry. Anyway, Mulder, Commander Rabb and I have been assigned to protect the Navy's interests in the case that you and Agent Scully are working."

"I'm aware of that, and I'm also aware of the fact that you didn't call me at three in the morning to tell me that we're going to be working on a case in a somewhat parallel fashion."

I smiled. "You're right. I actually called with a potential lead that's not exactly in keeping with what most investigators would run with."

"I'm not most investigators," Mulder said. I could practically hear him salavating at the thought of there being a supernatural edge to an otherwise sickening case of the human condition at it's very worst. "Tell me what you've got. Wait, no, we should do this in person, not over the phone," he said, almost to himself. Then, to me again, he said, "Where are you now? On the base?"

Cringing, I sighed. "No, I'm not on the base right now. Um... how well do you know the area?"

"I've got a map," Mulder offered.

"Okay. There's a coffee shop not far from where I am right now. We can meet there," I said. I didn't want to wake Harm and explaining to Mulder about our relationship might not be so tough but there was no way I was telling anyone without Harm's full agreement. I gave Mulder directions and we agreed to meet there in half an hour. After we hung up I took a quick shower, got dressed in the dress I had worn earlier topped with Harm's shirt that was both practical and comforting. I wrote out a note for Harm to let him know where I was going and I tenderly kissed him goodbye before grabbing my purse and the key to the room and heading out.

When Mulder arrived I had already finished a cup of tea and was about to order another one. He ordered a coffee before joining me at the booth in the back of the coffee shop that I had taken because it was far enough away from the counter that the clearly exhausted waitress wouldn't listen to our conversation. It was bad enough if they listened in on a murder investigation in the middle of the day, but in the middle of the night it's more likely that they'll call the cops on a couple of potential murderers rather than assume that we're investigating the crime.

"So, why aren't you staying on the base? I thought you had a room at the VOQ," Mulder said conversationally as he dumped liberal amounts of cream and sugar in his small cup of coffee.

"I do," I said, not offering any further explanation. I clasped my hands together when I realized that I was still wearing my engagement ring, but I quickly realized that it didn't matter if Mulder knew I was engaged.

For all he knew I was involved with some guy in San Diego and had opted to stay with him for the night rather than bunking up at the base. It was oddly freeing, wearing my ring in front of someone other than Harm. The only person who had seen me wearing the ring on my finger was Gram, Harm's grandmother. Several people had noticed it hanging around my neck, but, as my mother had recently died, I'm pretty sure a lot of them assume that it's her engagement ring. That ring, however, was safely locked in my jewelry box in my apartment, waiting for the day that I can pass it along to my own children, whether to use to propose with or just for a family heirloom.

I waited until the waitress had given up on trying to listen in on our conversation, going back into the kitchen that was heavily at work making baked goods for the morning rush, and then I said, "I know that your department deals with cases that are less than normal."

Mulder snorted softly. I realized that what I had said was probably the understatement of the century, so I moved on quickly, not allowing my fair complexion time to color with the slight embarrassment I was feeling at that moment.

"And I know that you have a reputation for going after leads that aren't always as conventional as other agents would like."

"If you called me out at three in the morning to tell me not to screw around you've wasted both of our time," Mulder said.

"I didn't call you out here for that," I promised. I dragged my fingers through my hair and sighed heavily. "Look, off the record and on pain of castration and slow dismemberment should this become one of your X-Files, in the past I have a history of precognitive dreams. And I wouldn't even be bringing this up–it's not something I like to talk about–but before I called you..."

"You saw the next victim?" Mulder asked, his voice lowered.

"I did," I nodded gravely. "At least, I think I did. Sometimes these thing just turn out to be brought on by what I've already seen or read or whatever, but this... it felt really real."

Mulder nodded, motioning for me to elaborate.

I recounted the dream, alarming detail for alarming detail, and then I said, "There's a park, like the one I saw in my dream, not far from the base. I can't remember what it's called... Harm might know... growing up here and all. Anyway, I think... I think that you should check it out."

"You got a weapon?" Mulder asked, pulling out his wallet and throwing down some bills to cover our drinks.

"Didn't really count on my tagging along," I admitted.

"I need your memories to find the baseball diamond," Mulder said as we headed out to his car. He popped the trunk and spun the dials on a lock box, opening it up and pulling out an FBI edition SIG Sauer P22OS. He haded the gun to me and I tested the weight. "You know how to use that?" he asked.

"Before I joined the JAG corps I trained as a weapons specialist," I said as I checked the gun over as best I could in the low light of the coffee shop's parking lot. It was in good working order, was obviously cleaned regularly and thoroughly, and had been fired more than once but not recently. "You always go off like this without your partner?" I asked as we got in his Taurus.

"All the time. Drives her crazy," Mulder said as he threw the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

We drove for a minute before Mulder realized that he didn't know where he was going. "There's a map in the glove box. See if you can find the park there. If you can't call your partner."

As much as I hated keeping things from Harm I had no intention of calling him and telling him that I was going after a serial rapist with a man I had known for all of ten hours and had spoken to for maybe an hour total since we met. Harm would insist that I either come back to the hotel or wait for him to come to me. Which, honestly, didn't sound wholly unappealing, except I knew that we didn't have the time to wait for Harm to get from the hotel to the coffee shop on foot and I had the car. I reached for the map and started scanning the area around the base. Thankfully it was a detailed map and I found the park a minute later. I told Mulder where to go and he went forty over the speed limit in the light traffic.

"Don't you think you're going a little fast?" I asked, looking over my shoulder to see if there were any cops following us.

"We're in pursuit of a violent offender, correct?" Mulder asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Yes," I said.

"Then it's official Bureau business," Mulder said.

I wrapped my fingers around the arm rests and hung on tight, praying that this actually turned out to be something and not just more proof that my imagination has a tendency to take an idea and run with it.

The sun was rising as I pulled the car back into the parking space allotted for us at the hotel. It had taken much longer than anticipated to cover all the ground, and it turned out there were two baseball diamonds on opposite corners of the park and, as I hadn't seen any real landmarks, I didn't even know which one we were looking for, so we checked both thoroughly.

Even before I slipped the cardkey in the door I knew Harm was awake. I was exhausted, aching, and emotionally strung out. Mulder and I had spent three hours combing the park and finding nothing to indicate that my dream had come true. That didn't mean that it wouldn't, as Mulder had pointed out on the ride back to the coffee shop to pick up my car. He was going to check with the Parks Board to see if the baseball

diamond was rented out by a high school league for their playoffs and, if it was, when the first day was scheduled.

While we scoured the park Mulder had told me about the other crime scenes and the potential clues that Scully had found during her autopsy that afternoon. He told me about how most of the victims had retreated into themselves completely, unable to do anything other than waste away in fear. He recounted the conversation he had had with the first victim, the only woman who wasn't essentially catatonic, and he told me how she had told him, with horrifying clarity, everything this monster had done to her.

Mulder had promised to keep me out of it, he had made it clear that he wasn't just going to sit on the information–or potential information–that I had offered him. I agreed, knowing that any lead would be welcome in this case, but I did make him swear that he wouldn't tell anyone where he got the information.

"Where have you been?" Harm asked, clearly more concerned than angry. He wrapped his arms around me and I sank into his embrace willingly, needing to find the safety zone that I always found in his arms.

"I'll explain in a minute," I said, burrowing deeper into his arms. Harm didn't argue, probably realizing that I was in no state to fight back and that pushing would only make me clam up.

After a few minutes I took Harm's hand and led him to the bed. We curled up together and I rested my head on his chest, my ear over his heart. I explained everything, from the nightmare to every step taken in the park, and I felt Harm's arms tighten around me with each sentence I uttered. He waited until I was finished and, instead of getting angry at me for not waking him up and letting him know what was going on, he just asked if I was alright.

"I'm okay. Just a little shaken," I admitted. I lifted my head off his chest and looked into his eyes. "Harm, I want to start planning our wedding. I mean, really planning. Setting a date, sending out invitations, freaking out over caterers and floral arrangements. I don't want to wait any more."

Almost two years of talking, subtle innuendos and hinting at deeper feelings that neither one of us was ready to admit to outright, we shared our first kiss. We fumbled through the next six months, trying to date while hiding from all the people we loved. We spent our one year anniversary up at Sarah Rabb's farm where Harm proposed in front of the one person who knew that we were more than just partners. And now, almost four months later, we were still as closeted as we had been when we were hiding our feelings from each other as well as everyone else. Only now there was more to feel guilty about.

TBC...