Night, London, Somewhere in time.
She could hear them calling her name, something must be wrong; she made her way along the path and through the trees trying to follow their voices. It was dark; there were hardly any streetlights, the wind swirled the leaves at her feet. No matter which way she turned to walk the voices of her colleagues seemed to be just as far away as ever. She couldn't see a thing but trees and shadows. She hated this, they still hadn't caught up with the man they had been chasing, he could be anywhere, and he could be waiting to grab her. She drew her gun and aimed it into the darkness, she must be careful; she could quite easily end up shooting the wrong person in the dim light.
She called her partner's name once more, "Where are you?" She called even louder. Well now a would-be assassin would know exactly where she was, she thought. They replied but it was caught up in the wind, the direction distorted. She walked forward; something flew past her, its wings catching the side of her face. She wasn't usually spooked easily but this time she brushed frantically to clear the intrusion even though it was long gone. It must have been a bat, she thought, she was really growing to hate this night. She stepped forward again, there was a strong gust of wind that nearly knocked her off her feet she whirled round to protect her face and staggered forward, and then all was still. She looked up, the moon now shone; she glanced down to find she could see a little more clearly. She called her partner's name again, she was confidant that she could search him out now, but there was no answer. She called again, trying not to let her voice sound frantic; he would never let her live it down if she got frightened over nothing. There was still no answer. She ran forward, her gun still aiming at whatever might come across her path loaded and ready. She turned round, searching into the distance. It was as if her partner had disappeared, they weren't answering her anymore, and she couldn't see them even though the visibility was now much improved. There was something wrong, they would never just give up and leave her like this, would they? She hadn't heard any sign of a struggle though; it was impossible to come to the conclusion that they had been taken. But where were they?
Now that the wind had dropped she got out her cell phone and hit the speed dial button for her partner, an electronic voice soon told her politely that the number was not currently valid. She tried it again and got the same message. Now she was annoyed, what was the matter with this thing? She dialled through to her boss's number, he was supposed to be with them both, she got a similar response.
"Damn these things." She said to the cell phone, turning it off with contempt. She would somehow get back to their hotel, rest up for a while and then plan what she was going to say to her partner when he returned from dumping her.
She walked to the edge of the park where the main road ran, brightly lit. She looked about her; everything was just as it had been as far as she could tell. The only thing that was noticeably different was the clear calm night and the absence of her partner. These things weren't too much to worry about but her boss had gone too, he would never willingly let that happen. There was something else too, something not quite right but she couldn't think of what it was.
You've got separated, she told herself, that's all; make your way back to the hotel, everything will be alright. And if they're not there, you can call them in missing. She started walking briskly along the road, they had parked the car not far away and she had the keys. She searched along the road, eventually coming to a crossroads she knew they hadn't gone beyond; the car was missing too.
"Damn it," She said kicking the nearest lamp-post and wishing it was her partner, she was used to this kind of shit from him but she couldn't think what could have happened to get their boss, ex-boss she reminded herself, to go along with this. But then, things had changed rather considerably over the last year, she thought. She had to come to the conclusion, very reluctantly, that they must have been taken. They must have been taken silently and suddenly and then the perpetrators had made off with the hire car only she had the keys to and which they would have no reason to expect existed, they were less than a mile from their hotel. Neither scenario fitted the events but they were the only two she had to work on. She sighed and made off in the direction of the hotel, at least it was less than a mile, she reflected.
By the time she got back to the hotel she was so tired that the need for sleep was threatening to overtake her resolve to find her partner. She went on automatic pilot as she rode the lift up to the right floor and walked along the hallway to her room. She reached in her bag for the key card and reached forward to slide it through the reader, her eyes half closed as she did so. It wasn't there; she looked down and found only a conventional key lock. She looked from side to side taking in the familiar décor; all the doors were exactly the same as she remembered them except for the old-fashioned access system. She stared from the keyhole and then back to her pass card. The keyhole was a good twelve inches below where the swipe reader should have been; the door had scratches and imperfections that she remembered but there wasn't even a sign that a reader had been removed.
She checked all the doors on the corridor; they were all the same. She took out her cell phone and called headquarters. She asked to speak to the director by name and then she asked to be put through to her boss's secretary when that failed.
"I'm sorry," the voice replied again, "Nobody of that name is currently registered as an employee here."
She gave her name and asked to be put through to her partner's office; she had made this request a million times before. Same response, neither she nor her partner were now recognised by the switchboard, their extension number wasn't even currently in use. She cut off the connection with a rising feeling of panic. She called up her mother's number but her hand remained poised on the dial button unable to progress further.
She went back downstairs and surveyed the foyer; she didn't think it was worth getting into an argument with the desk staff so she headed out onto the street. She started to wander, walking along looking for something that would tell her where she was and what she was to do next. It's me, she thought, they haven't gone missing; I have.
There were a few restaurants that she looked longingly at; she was desperately hungry. She had thought about going into one only to end up staring despairingly down at her credit card. She had some cash, nowhere near enough for a meal but it was getting late, she needed somewhere to rest a while. She walked miles hardly knowing where she was heading until she looked down a street to find the entrance to The Ritz staring back at her. She had always wanted to know what the place looked like inside.
She wouldn't have to buy anything, she thought, it was such a big place that she imagined she could just wander in and sit in the warm for a while. She didn't give a thought to what they might think to her appearance, she was wearing a suit but it had been a rough day. She walked up to the entrance and the man on the door greeted her warmly. She blundered in looking for a comfortable sofa to flop down on. A man in uniform approached her. Damn, she thought, she was going to get thrown out.
"Good evening," He greeted her even more brightly than the last man, "How nice to see you again, will you be staying with us this evening?"
"I was thinking of taking a room." She answered feeling a little bit stunned. This man recognised her but she had never seen him before in her life. The man asked her if she would like her usual room and called her by a name that was not her own. "Yes, that would be nice, thank you." She replied. This place wouldn't deal in cash or visa, she thought, it would be somebody else's bill, this other women's account. She hoped her look-alike didn't show up anytime soon.
The man showed her up to a very nice room and as soon as he was gone she sank down onto the bed and picked up the phone. After ordering room service, she stripped off her clothes getting them ready for the laundry man who was on his way up. She tucked her gun underneath her pillow. She then took the complimentary notepad and pen and wrote down her new name before she could forget it.
She felt so tired, she shouldn't sleep, the laundry man came, the food was eaten and she was exhausted. Would he sleep or would he keep on looking for her until he died, she asked herself about her partner. She would look, she would kill herself looking but she was no good now. Sooner or later she was going to get rumbled and get thrown out of the room; it would be a crime to waste the time until then, she thought. Soon enough to start looking when she was once more back on the streets. Half asleep already she crawled underneath the covers and rested her head on the pillows, her fingers reaching underneath to wrap round her gun for safety.
The morning after the night before, London, somewhere in time.
She woke up to the sound of somebody knocking on her door. She got up in a daze wrapping the complimentary hotel robe round her before she answered. It was the laundry man with her clothes. She thanked him as he handed them over, clean, fresh and perfectly ironed. Then she turned and looked back into the luxurious hotel bedroom and remembered why she was there.
"What the hell am I doing lying here sleeping?" She asked herself out loud. She went into the bathroom to pour a bath, "Because you don't know what else to do." She answered herself looking at her face in the mirror. She looked a little rested but still not her best.
She sank into the deep hot water up to her chin. All the staff in The Ritz knew her by name, she reflected, but her life as she had come to know it had just ceased to exist. He would love this one, she thought. A deep pang of loneliness gripped her, yes, he would have killed for this one and she was in it all on her own. She shook herself up before she sank too far down, she would return to where she had last seen them. She would retrace her steps and try to find where she had been when things started to go wrong. There had been a point where it was windy and she could hear their voices and then suddenly both of those things had stopped.
She dressed in her fresh clothes and retrieved her gun from the bed. She looked at herself in the mirror making sure that the gun didn't show. She had no protection now, no way she could explain herself if anybody caught her carrying the thing; she was illegally armed, no better than a criminal.
She stepped outside to a sunny day and took a deep breath. She didn't want to waste the little money she had so she started walking. She would have been enjoying it if circumstances had been different. As it was she felt uneasy, she felt as if every other person who passed her was staring at her. She would look at them and they would turn away embarrassed. She looked down at herself, there was no error in her dress, and nothing was stuck to her shoe. She tried to shake the feeling, tried not to be as paranoid as her partner had a tendency to be.
Her goal was in sight; she could see the trees and the entrance to where they had been searching the other night. She headed with resolve towards it; she crossed the road. She didn't see them before it was too late, a young girl and her mother approached her wearing wide grins.
"Hey it is you!" The mother said.
She fought the overwhelming urge to break into a run, "Yes, it's me!" She replied trying to match the grin.
"We do love your show." The young girl added, "We watch it every week."
"Thanks, it's fun to make." She found herself replying while inside she was screaming for help from the God she hoped was still in charge of things.
"I wonder," The mother said producing a notebook and pen, "If it's not too much trouble, could we have your autograph?"
"Yea, sure, of course." She grinned and obliged them with a quick scribble of the name the hotel man had given her.
They looked at the autograph and their faces beamed with delight, thankfully they made their excuses and left. She rushed through the gate and sought sanctuary behind the cover of the trees.
"I have got to get out of here." She said to herself.
Location? Time? Well that would be telling wouldn't it?
Gary and Xavier stepped through the portal together and Gary felt a huge surge of relief to find the wasteland melt away before his eyes and a graveyard take its place. Xavier was clinging to him and Gary could get quite used to it, he just didn't care much for what had brought it about. They were both tired, Gary could feel Xavier leaning on him more heavily now and his limp seemed to be more pronounced.
"Gary, I am so sorry but I must sit down for a minute," Xavier said as if he had heard Gary thinking.
"It's OK," Gary replied, "This is before the war, whenever it is, we can rest now."
They continued till Gary could find a park bench for them to sit on. He recognised the view, he remembered sitting there with Phoebe on his wedding day and a lump built in his throat that he had to fight away. It was the same graveyard; the time portals seemed to be very close together. He let the luggage he was carrying slip to the ground before he held Xavier firmly as he eased down onto the seat.
Gary sat down beside Xavier and put an arm round his shoulders; he eased Xavier's arm back into the sling to rest it, Xavier leant against him wearily.
"Are you OK?" Gary asked giving Xavier a squeeze.
"Yep," Xavier smiled weakly, "Just need a few minutes to rest."
Gary could tell that Xavier was underplaying things as usual, "Don't worry, I'll find us somewhere to stay for the night as soon as I can, then you can rest up properly."
"It was the wasteland, all those bricks and stuff." Xavier said burying his head into the folds of Gary's coat, his voice becoming shaky, Gary let him have his private moment of grief; he wasn't feeling too good himself.
Too much had happened in too short a time, he could understand how they both felt overwhelmed by it. But they were safe now, which was the main thing. Even if he had stumbled into the year 2000 nobody he knew would have any reason to be wandering around this part of London; he had only been here once with Ron and only a few times with Phoebe; fortunately he didn't think Yvonne knew it existed.
"I'm going to leave you here with half the bags if that's OK," Gary suggested, "I'll find us somewhere to stay, then I'll come back for you."
"OK," Xavier replied, not feeling too happy about it.
"I'll book us into the first place I come across, then I'll come straight back." Gary tried to reassure. "You'll be alright, this is the past whenever it is, at no point in history has this been a bad place."
"Even in your war?"
"Xavier, this place remained unchanged through hundreds of years, only the twenty first century could destroy it."
"OK." Xavier said feeling a little bit better about it. He disentangled himself from Gary's embrace and looked up at him, "You better get going, it's not that early and I am a bit cold." he said.
Gary touched a hand to his face, "And very tired too."
"Very tired." Xavier echoed looking down at his lap.
Gary stood up and heaved the backpack up over his shoulders and grasped a hold of two wheeled suitcases.
"When I come back we'll know what time it is and I'll have us somewhere to live I promise." Gary told Xavier.
"Yes, go. And Gary?"
"Hmm?"
"Make sure that you get a place without lots of stairs." Xavier reminded him.
When Gary had gone Xavier thought he heard the sound of a women crying. He couldn't see her but he had no intention of investigating even though the intensity of her feeling was quite harrowing. No, this was a graveyard; private grief was best left alone. He had his problems too and he knew that he certainly didn't want anybody but Gary to share them with.
Xavier took a smoke from the packet in his coat pocket; he knew that if they were in a time before 2040 this might be his last chance for a while. The woman who was crying was quieter now and was wandering about. Xavier watched her with curiosity; she didn't seem to be directing herself at any particular grave. He wondered if he should say something when she passed by him but he couldn't find the words. A few minutes later the opportunity had gone, she wiped at her eyes and struggled to compose herself, made for the main road and disappeared from sight.
When Gary returned Xavier was sat exactly as he had left him, he hoped that he had been all right. He breathed a sigh of relief when Xavier looked up as he approached and gave him a faint smile. He sat down next to him on the park bench. It was a sad sight really, when coupled with the circumstances they were in. Xavier looked pale and tired; he imagined he didn't look much better himself. They were both wearing as many of their clothes as they could manage making them look strangely overweight. Xavier still held his left arm in the sling; to Gary he looked impossibly vulnerable.
Gary touched a hand to Xavier's cheek, "I found us a bed and breakfast," He said with an encouraging smile, "I bought a paper and found out the date, we're in the year 2000 which would have been the present if I hadn't got stuck in the past. The credit card your father gave us for this year works perfectly, we have money. I'll get some tickets for the lottery in the morning and find us somewhere else to stay."
Xavier relaxed and leant towards Gary with relief.
"The room for tonight is on the first floor though." Gary had to mention.
"It will be warm and safe." Xavier said looking more tired than ever.
Gary put an arm round him and held him close, "A few minutes," he promised, "And then we'll head off."
Xavier nodded as he rested his head against Gary's shoulder.
The Ritz, London, Somewhere in time.
She wandered back into The Ritz trying to think her way round her problem, trying to think logically even if her science was going to let her down. She had to figure out what had happened first, she reasoned. Firstly there was the hotel, nothing to swipe a card through, just a key lock; that was the first thing that had seemed different. Keys were old; swipe cards were new, therefore time-travel. She took a deep breath; she wasn't at all comfortable with this. Next, invalid phone numbers and neither her boss's, her partner's nor her own job existed; therefore again, time travel. More specifically, time travel into the past, seven years at least. No, more if her partner wasn't employed either. Thirdly, she was famous in London. She was recognised in The Ritz and out on the streets, fondly recognised, she needed somebody else to string up a theory for that one and he wasn't there.
She heard a man calling her new name, she turned to look at him and found him standing in the foyer with two men in suits, and more notably, a man in a British policeman's uniform. Their expressions were grim; they started to move towards her. She wasn't about to let anybody find her now illegal service weapon; she didn't have any very good explanations. She was all for justice, where justice was likely, but it would do her no good at all to end up locked in a cell. Against all her principles she turned for the door using the daytime crowds in the hotel and out on the streets for cover. Her modest height and ability to move fast without breaking out into a run served her well. She managed to weave her way along enough streets to be sure she wasn't being followed. She was relieved in a way since it meant that they mustn't have wanted her for anything too serious.
Now what was she going to do, she wondered. Her dash had made her warm, she wished that she could remove her jacket. She opened it up to try and get herself some air without showing her gun. She was all sweaty now, she felt uncomfortable. She would have killed for a refreshing shower but instead she had to come to terms with the fact that she was now effectively homeless. Homeless in every way a person could be. Somehow thought just left her; she wandered the streets taking in the sights. She had nowhere to go; she didn't know what to do.
The Graveyard, White chapel, London, June 2000Gary looked about him as he gently ran a hand through Xavier's hair soothingly. He was hardly aware he was doing it. Xavier remained melted against him and he was very reluctant to move. It was getting cold though, Xavier had already said he was cold but he seemed to have forgotten it for the moment. Gary knew he was cold but it was a different type of cold, his soul was chilled. He remembered how all this had started, a bored Sunday afternoon and a long time before that, a wrong turning down an alleyway. Life sure was strange at times. Who would have thought that he would end up digging a grave for a ninety-something Ron with Yvonne's daughter looking on and insisting that there was no time for a funeral? Xavier had needed it though, he wouldn't appreciate it yet but everybody needs closure. Xavier, there was the strangest thing of all, Ron's son, his son too, they were together with nobody else left in the entire world for either of them. Gary wondered if Xavier knew that he would never see his sister again, one way or another she was dead.
A man who was quickly approaching them brought Gary out of his sad reflections suddenly. He was dressed in a dark suit and looked about him wildly as if searching for something that had disappeared. Yes, the look of confusion was there to be seen, as he got closer. He slowed as he got to the park bench and looked around once more before facing Gary. To Gary he looked vaguely familiar. Gary noted that in his right hand he held a gun. It swung back and forth as the man moved his arm, almost as if he was so used to it being there that he had forgotten about it. The man fumbled in his jacket with his free hand and pulled out what looked like a wallet. When he flicked his wrist to open the wallet Gary found that it contained an ID card. The man flashed the ID so quickly that Gary only caught the letters F, B and I boldly printed on it.
"FBI, I have authorisation to operate in this country from Scotland Yard," the man announced, "Did you see a man come this way?" he demanded.
Gary tensed just because of the gun and its proximity to his body. Xavier's reaction was a bit more dramatic. He jumped away from Gary in shock having been woken abruptly from a half doze. In 2053, FBI meant something entirely different and Gary wasn't sure how he could communicate that everything was all right without it sounding very weird. For Xavier the fact that the man was American was enough, he wriggled free of all contact with Gary.
Gary tried to grab hold of Xavier's hand to pull close so he could whisper an explanation but he wouldn't let it happen.
"Things are different here," Gary told him raising an eyebrow and willing him to understand, "It is the new millennium after all."
The FBI man was clearly puzzled but puzzled was no reason to arrest somebody. "You haven't answered my question." He insisted.
Gary was about to answer when Xavier caught sight of the gun and panicked. The FBI man took the panic to mean guilt and levelled the gun on Xavier, which didn't help matters at all.
"Did you see a man come this way?" The FBI man demanded again.
What also did not help was that Gary's mind decided it was time he remembered where he had seen the FBI man before. Throughout his time travelling exploits this had happened to him again and again, history was littered with caricatured British and American TV characters. Xavier was terrified but Gary couldn't now take this man seriously to save his life. He would do what he normally did, have a little fun then the moment would pass. It must be a strange consequence of time-travel or something; maybe the person in charge of the portals put these things in just for a laugh.
"Lost something?" Gary asked feeling quite smug with himself, this was more like the time-travel he was used to. It was about time after so much misery.
"What did you say?" The FBI man said taking the gun away from Xavier and pointed it at Gary.
"Gary!" Xavier hissed in warning.
"Have you lost something, or should I say somebody?" Gary persisted.
"Who are you working for, what do you know?" The FBI man demanded, his finger squeezing on the trigger almost beyond his own knowledge. Gary had to admit that this wasn't going quite to plan; now he was scared. He had obviously trodden on a skeleton; well, he had been too busy time-travelling to watch TV during the nineties.
"You lot travel in twos right?" Gary said to try and defuse the situation, "You have a partner?"
Gary watched as the FBI man reassessed his situation and calmed slightly only to become agitated again when he realised that he really was missing something he hadn't noticed before.
The FBI man turned and looked about him whilst still trying to keep his gun pointed at Gary.
"Walter!" He called across the graveyard. He got no reply and tried calling several more times, becoming more panicked each time.
Walter? Gary thought to himself, that wasn't quite right. He had to admit that he had never watched the show much but he could never have got this man's partner confused with somebody called Walter. He didn't mention it though, from what he did remember, it was probably best to tread carefully where this man was concerned.
Walter still wasn't putting in an appearance, the FBI man was greatly affected by this, he was starting to look like his whole world was falling apart; Gary knew the feeling. So, Gary thought, the partner was missing and as far as he knew the man standing before him was supposed to be a fictional character. Bombs mess up time portals, Gary suddenly thought, but could a bomb make fiction real? Suppose it depends who is in charge and how they work, Gary added to his thoughts.
Gary was sure the FBI man had forgotten about his gun now, he turned and stared into the distance, he wasn't even pretending to point it at them any longer. Xavier urged for them to go but Gary's curiosity was aroused now.
"It's OK," Gary tried to reassure, "This is the turn of the century, he can't shoot us without having to answer for it and he has no reason."
"But why stay?" Xavier asked.
"Because he's lost somebody and I have an idea where they may have gone."
Xavier smiled, "Slipped through a portal?"
"Maybe, he'll never get anywhere without our help." Gary explained. "Can we stay?"
The FBI man called pointlessly and desperately for Walter again.
"I don't like to see anybody miss somebody that much." Xavier answered soberly.
The FBI man suddenly headed for the park bench and sat himself down next to Gary. He leaned forward, dropped the gun on the ground and wrapped his arms round his head.
"I can't do this anymore," He said almost to himself, "Not twice in one week."
"How long has she been missing?" Gary asked.
"Since last night, we following a man in the dark and he disappeared and so did she. We came back here to look for a clue of where she had gone and I saw the man again and followed him; he disappeared again and I ended up with you."
At least, Gary thought, time travel would be easier to explain in these circumstances, no doubt the FBI man already had a much more bizarre theory.
"Walter!" the FBI man wailed suddenly.
Gary could hear the sound of somebody running towards them, he turned to look. A large man came towards them, dressed in a dark suit and also brandishing a gun. As he got closer Gary realised that he knew who this man was too. This was Walter, Assistant Director Walter Skinner.
"Mulder!" the man barked, "What the hell is going on here?"
Mulder jumped up at the sound of the man's voice. "I thought I'd lost you too, I was calling for you over and over, where were you?"
"Just over there." Walter said pointing into the trees at the other side of the graveyard, "I only heard you the once."
"I lost him." Mulder said referring to the man they had both been chasing.
"I see that, who are these people?" Walter asked gesturing towards Xavier and Gary. Xavier shrank back, Walter was also waving a handgun around and although he wasn't any taller than Mulder, he was far scarier looking.
Mulder belatedly remembered what he had been doing; he retrieved his gun and pointed it at Xavier and Gary. Walter shook his head in exasperation at Mulder's neglect for his weapon.
"They know something," Mulder gestured at Gary, "He knew that somebody I knew had gone missing, he was amused."
"Mulder, we've never met these people before." Walter countered.
"I know," Mulder continued now gesturing towards Xavier, "But he became panic stricken when I showed my ID, you had better check, I think you'll find he's wanted."
Walter sighed, "They are two men sitting on a park bench, that's all Mulder, now put the gun away and that's an order."
"You're not my boss any more Walter." Mulder retorted sharply.
Walter flinched at his remark; Mulder had obviously hit a nerve, Gary thought as he watched the exchange with fascination.
"Just put the gun away anyway." Walter insisted.
"Check." Mulder insisted.
Walter walked away and took out a cell phone.
"Gary," Xavier whispered, "That man Mulder, I recognise the name from somewhere, I don't know where."
"Me too," Gary replied, "I know where though, keep quiet for now."
"OK," Xavier agreed knowing that it wasn't wise to say too much in front of the man himself. Xavier searched through his memory desperately trying to remember where he had heard of Mulder before, he was sure he had never seen him.
Gary watched as Walter spoke on the cell phone at length and observed the puzzled expression grow on his face. He returned to Mulder when the shock started to take over.
Mulder looked worried, "What is it?"
"I can't get access." Walter replied his face blank and stunned.
"What? They won't give you clearance?" Mulder responded.
Walter shook his head, "No, not just that, they wouldn't even acknowledge my identity, when I asked to speak to the director by name they said that there was no person of that name at the FBI, I asked to be put through to the X-files office and they said that no such department existed."
Gary thought that now was as good as any to offer up his explanation, they were rapidly heading towards having to face it anyway.
"Time-travel," he said simply. "The east end is littered with time portals, you've obviously wandered through one."
Mulder's eyes lit up, "I told you Walter, that business in the Bermuda triangle you wouldn't believe me about, I went back to 1939. This is just like that," he pointed to Gary with his gun, "I see it now, look he's wearing 1940s clothes, I bet we're going to be in the Blitz tonight."
"If that were true Mulder, I wouldn't have been able to get through to the FBI at all." Walter snapped.
"OK, fine." Mulder snapped back, he turned to Gary, "What is the date?" he asked.
"June 2000." Gary answered, thinking that whatever time they had ever been in was irrelevant; they weren't supposed to exist in real life anyway.
Mulder looked deflated.
"See," Walter said, "June 2000, so much for time-travel."
"Parallel universe perhaps," Xavier joined the conversation, "The portals are likely to be capable of anything since the bomb. You could have just time-travelled a few hours, you wouldn't notice it when you came through."
Mulder and Walter compared watches and then looked at Gary's as he offered them his wrist.
"Nine minutes." Mulder said, his thoughts miles away, "Nine minutes."
"Now what?" Walter asked in his characteristic stern voice, now having abandoned denial.
"Now you walk up and down the graveyard until your phone can pick up an answer from somebody you know, unless you know where you came through."
"Great!" Walter replied looking around him.
"Or you could stay for a while to see if your partner is here too." Gary suggested looking to Mulder.
Walter gave Gary a very stern look.
"Don't you want him to find her?" Gary asked in return.
"Who said his partner was female?" Walter responded.
Mulder was pacing up and down deep in thought, talking almost to himself as he considered the possibilities.
"Of course there is more than one portal," Gary offered, "And each one seems to be tuned to one person or another. Xavier and I can get through the same portals as each other because we're related. With you two it could be just a coincidence. I don't know what the chances are of your partner getting through the same one. She might not be here. There's no way of telling what with the bomb messing things up, she could be in any time or even an alternative reality different to this one."
"What is this about a bomb, you keep mentioning it?" Walter cut in.
"All this is gone," Xavier said, "In 2053 a bomb is destined to reduce the entire east end to rubble, nothing for miles. There is something about bombs which messes with the portal system; new ones, existing ones that behave differently."
"And you know this how?" Walter asked sceptically.
"We've been there," Gary said, "I've been travelling for seven years."
"We have to look. Walter?" Mulder pleaded.
"Yes, but it's getting late," Walter replied looking at Mulder with some sympathy at last, "Tomorrow morning."
Mulder looked resigned; apparently Walter being gentle worked much better, "We'll need some help." Mulder said looking towards Gary.
"We are staying in a hotel not far from here, I'll give you our address and number," Walter said reaching inside his coat for paper and a pen, "Can we offer you a lift anywhere?"
"I think you'll find," Gary said without humour, "That you no longer have a car or a hotel room."
"Damn," Mulder said, "We were on FBI expenses too."
"You had better come with us, we're staying in a small place near here, they will probably have another room."
"We couldn't possibly impose." Walter said.
"I'm a time traveller from the future," Gary said, he enjoyed this bit, "I'll enter the lottery tomorrow."
A Guest House in the East end, 8pm, June 2000
Gary helped Xavier get ready for bed, it was still early for that but he was exhausted. Their newfound companions were settling in next door, they could hear them moving about.
"So who are they then?" Xavier asked as he struggled to keep his eyes open long enough to hear the answer.
"Do you recall Walter mentioning that the X files department didn't exist anymore?"
"Yes," Xavier replied, then his eyes opened wide, "I remember now, that's it, a thing my father said when he was going out to work sometimes, when I was small. He had two jobs, one in a hospital and another he did evenings sometimes. It was a joke he shared with my mother, as he was leaving he would often say he was 'off to the X files'. Years later they stopped doing it but I know where it came from, my father had boxes full of computer print outs, stories about a team of investigators looking into strange phenomena. They were old, from his med school days, he told me it had been a TV show, I never saw it."
"Where did he get these stories?"
"Off the internet."
"So he was doing work that was secret in some way?"
"Yes, it would appear so. Anyway, I didn't know who they were by sight, but I know the names Mulder and Skinner."
"And Scully?"
Xavier smiled, "Yes, that's who they've lost, we've got to help them find her."
"There's one problem with this scenario," Gary said as he helped Xavier get into bed, "They're internet fan-fiction, TV show characters, cult icons at most."
"But they're living and breathing in the room next door."
"Exactly."
"I read a few of those stories, some take on a vastly different scenario to the accepted chain of events in the original, it called 'alternative universe' Gary."
Gary shook his head, as he got ready for bed too, "It's still fiction though."
Gary climbed into the small single bed and snuggled up to Xavier. Since they'd been saved from the jaws of death by their ability to time-travel he didn't like to complain but he wished that he had had the nerve to blatantly ask for a double room in the year 2000.
"Maybe in some reality somewhere we're all TV shows." Xavier reflected jokingly.
"You're delirious, go to sleep."
"Well they honestly believed they could get through to an X files department in Washington, don't you think it strange that the people there just didn't recognise the department?" Xavier continued suddenly realising and becoming more serious.
"Hmm?" Gary mumbled as sleep was looming near for him too.
"They should have presumed it was a crank call and cut Walter off, that's all. The X Files was still in production in the year 2000, wasn't it? No, there's more to this, I think we've swapped realities too."
"I think I'm starting to get a headache." Gary groaned burying his head in the pillow dramatically.
A Guest House in the East end, 9.30pm, June 2000
Gary was woken by a loud pounding on his door, it was still light outside as he looked at his watch. He was glad Xavier was somehow managing to sleep through it. He got out of bed reluctantly and went to open the door. Half of his brain wanted it to be important to justify getting up and the other wanted it to be nonsense so that he could go back to bed. He swung the door open to find Walter standing there.
"Mulder is gone from the room, is he with you?" Walter demanded.
"No." Gary answered looking understandably confused.
"I went for a walk, he was thinking, he often sits on his own and watches TV when he's thinking. I came back just now to find the TV playing and Mulder gone."
Gary stepped out of the bedroom wearing the latest in 21st century retro styling night attire, which looked suspiciously like 1940s pyjamas except that he was allowed a pocket. He followed Walter into the next room to observe that the TV was indeed playing to itself and there was no sign of Mulder.
"We have to find him, he may have come up with some wild theory, he always gets into trouble when he's like this." Walter pleaded.
Gary looked at the TV and had a thought, he remembered what Xavier had said, 'maybe in some reality somewhere we're all TV shows'; and TV shows had actors who turned up to award ceremonies which were broadcast on TV themselves. On the TV in Mulder and Walter's room the first acceptance speech was being given, the BAFTAS presented in London in June and televised live.
Gary pointed to the TV screen; "He's seen her on there." He stated. "Or rather he thinks he has."
"What does that mean?" Walter asked.
"It means go downstairs and call us a cab." Gary replied falling into his old familiar 1940s spy persona, modified slightly for the possibility of global conspiracies.
"Where are we going? Is Mulder in trouble?"
Gary smiled knowingly, "Not the kind of trouble he's used to, I imagine."
Walter started off down the hall shaking his head; "You can explain this to me in a straightforward manner on the way there."
Gary went back into his own room and leant over Xavier, he was sleeping soundly and it seemed such a shame to wake him. That was better than running the risk of him waking up to find them all gone though.
"Xavier," Gary said gently rocking him awake, "I have to go out for a while, Mulder's gone missing, and we have to find him. I want you to stay here and get some rest."
"What happened?" Xavier asked sleepily as he turned to face Gary.
Gary was struggling to get dressed as he was explaining to Xavier. "I think he might have seen Gillian Anderson arriving at an award ceremony, she was the actress who played Scully in our reality. I think he's gone down there to get her."
"Oh shit."
"A good choice of words, I am sorry, but I have to go."
Xavier grabbed a hold of Gary's arm, "Take the number of the hotel and call me," Xavier insisted, "Walter's phone still works."
"I want you to rest."
"I won't be able to if you just disappear."
"OK, I promise I will." Gary said, "I have to go."
Xavier nodded and closed his eyes once more, not opening them again till he heard the door click shut.
Gary met Walter at the front door and the cab arrived shortly after. They drove across London in virtual silence; Gary presumed that Walter must be worried about Mulder. They got out of the cab a few streets away from the theatre in which the award ceremony was taking place. Walter reckoned that Mulder wouldn't be able to gain entry but he might be outside trying to access the building somehow. Gary agreed with him and followed.
They circled round the building and although it felt a bit creepy, he knew whom he was with. Walter was bigger than he seemed on TV, broad and not to be messed with. Walter had drawn his gun in the darkness and Gary wished he had one too, if only to feel the part. They walked along slowly; there was no sign of Mulder.
Without much warning he was grabbed from behind and slammed against a brick wall, his hands held above him and his cheek scraping the brick. The barrel of a gun was pressed harshly against his head.
"I've got some questions for you." Walter hissed in Gary's ear.
"OK." Gary replied weakly.
"I want to know what you know and I want to know who you are working for, although I think I have a few ideas." Walter said pushing Gary more firmly into the wall.
"I'm not working for anybody, I'm just a time traveller." Gary started knowing how inadequate it sounded. One problem though, if he started to tell all he knew he would definitely start to sound as if he was working for the Consortium; he knew what Walter was getting at, even from only seeing a few shows he could work that one out.
"That doesn't tell me anything." Walter said squeezing Gary's hands harder.
"You are not going to believe the truth."
"Believe me, I've been asked to believe a lot of things in my life."
"Let me go and I'll talk." Gary tried.
"Start with why we're down here searching around a theatre expecting to find Mulder." Walter insisted holding Gary tighter than ever.
"The last time I was in the twentieth century The X-files was the name of a TV show, Mulder was in it, he had a partner called Scully." Gary began, "I know what she looks like, she was played by an actress called Gillian Anderson. I think he may have seen Gillian Anderson at the award ceremony on TV. It looks like you didn't just lose nine minutes, you wandered into a different reality." Gary missed out the bit about thinking that they had all changed realities, life was complicated enough for the time being.
"OK, that's right up there in the top ten of my weird list, what else?" Walter responded.
"I don't know, I didn't watch the show much, I was too busy time travelling. You work for the FBI but they don't recognise you any longer. Scully isn't very tall and she has red hair. There are some creepy bad guys and one in particular smokes a lot. Your secretary's name is Kim."
Gary could tell that Walter was staring at him, his grip on him relaxed slightly.
Gary continued, "Mulder was shot by Scully to stop him killing Krycek." Gary sighed, "I can't think of anything that I can tell you which you won't think the Consortium might have found out."
They were interrupted by the sound of many men running, they were headed for the alley. They watched as a man came into view, he was being chased by the others. Walter let go of Gary instinctively responding to this other threat. Gary thought it strange, if he really was a bad guy he could have grabbed the gun and it would all be now over.
Then Gary saw what Walter saw, it was Mulder running towards them. As he came close, Walter reached out and grabbed him then pulled him into a nearby doorway with his hand over Mulder's mouth to stifle his protests. They all held their breath as they listened to the running men come perilously close then run off into the distance. Walter eased his hand from Mulder's mouth.
"Jesus Walter, you want to give me a heart attack?" Mulder protested rubbing his jaw.
"What the hell were you doing?" Walter barked and the colour drained from Mulder's face.
Mulder looked down at his shoes, "I thought I saw her, she was different but so alike, I couldn't get in to see her." Once Mulder got started, the words flooded out. "She was on TV wearing a beautiful ball gown and she was smiling and waving to the cameras as she went into the theatre. I just switched channels and she was there." Mulder continued shaking his head.
"Who was chasing you?" Walter asked holding one of Mulder's arms in each hand.
"I don't know," Mulder said feeling overwhelmed, "I got to the doorway of the theatre and realised that everybody was already inside. There were some men with cameras outside who recognised me, I don't know who they were. They came after me so I just ran."
Walter took a deep breath and at last noticed Gary again. "Gary here as an interesting theory he would like to tell you about, I dare you to come up with anything stranger."
"I'm not saying a thing to either of you two until you put that gun away, whatever you might think, I'm not one of them." Gary said firmly, he was feeling very tired and he wanted to call Xavier like he had promised.
"What have you been doing?" Mulder asked Walter, he put his gun away and hid it with his jacket. Walter gave Mulder what can only be described as 'a look'; from Mulder's reaction, it was familiar.
"He knows too much." Walter said simply.
"I am tired, Xavier has just lost his father and he needs me. I'm trying to help you two find Scully because I know what it's like to lose someone you care about. I've told you a bit of why I know what I do, I don't care about any conspiracies, cigarette smoking men, consortiums or any of that." Gary said reaching the end of his rope, "I would like to borrow your phone to call Xavier and I would like to get some sleep."
Mulder and Walter exchanged a look, Walter handed over his phone and Gary headed off down the alley towards the main road.
"I'm getting a taxi back," Gary called to them, "You can share it with me if you like."
The next morning, London, Somewhere in timeScully felt as if she couldn't keep going any longer. She knew she looked as bad as she could probably get, the bath at The Ritz felt like a million years away. She tried to stand and stretch her cold and aching legs. If only Mulder could see her now, she thought, sleeping in a graveyard through a chilly June night with no more to cover her than her suit jacket. She had not been robbed, the surroundings were cosmopolitan, she was not lost in the wilderness but it might as well have been the moon. She was alone with nobody to call on, no favours owing to her from their many contacts. In despair, she had returned to the place where it had all gone wrong, clinging to it like a security blanket full of the germs acquired through constant use. It was light now but still very early, she knew she should get walking to get warmed up but she hadn't had anything to eat in twenty-four hours; it was hard to get started.
Once she got under way Scully didn't stop for a long time, she wanted to shake away the feelings and the hunger and think straight. She felt light headed with exhaustion; although she had lain still beneath a headstone she had gained very little rest. By mid morning she had lost track of her whereabouts and was passing a large library. To Scully, this now meant warmth and comfort more than anything but in the back of her mind she considered looking at a few select books too.
Scully found a quiet area towards the back windows of an upper floor opposite the history section. All the reading areas were in the form of single desks with two-foot high dividing screens between them, she flopped down on a chair and rested her head down on the table. It was warm in the library and she had a good degree of privacy, she closed her eyes. She should know better than this, she thought as sleep started to creep up on her, as a doctor she knew she shouldn't be believing that a nap in a library would solve anything. She would wake hungry still, it was only a matter of time before she got a headache; she closed her eyes anyway.
She was woken, she thought, by a voice. She felt the presence of somebody with her even before she opened her eyes. When she did look up, she saw a man she had never seen before looking down at her and smiling.
"What the hell are you looking at?" she snapped.
"Agent Scully?" the man enquired.
Scully's emotions were intense, she gained so much comfort from hearing her own name that she almost forgot that she still didn't recognise the person who had said it.
"Yes." Scully replied.
"You want to know the truth?" the man asked tipping his head to the side.
"Yes." Scully replied as if mesmerised, which in a way she was.
"The truth is that there is no truth."
"What?"
"To every man his own truth and the God within."
"You had better explain yourself." Scully tried to insist.
"All of it, everything that you fight for, fight against, every strange thing you encounter is just an illusion."
"An illusion?"
"Yes, the Consortium are as much puppets as anybody else, even the aliens, everything."
"Do you by chance have any proof at all?" Scully snapped.
"No," the man conceded, "Nothing other than yourself. You've stepped out. Don't think too much about the cigarette smoking man's little games, they are nothing compared to the whole."
"All I want to know is where my partner is."
"Mulder is far away from here." The man said simply.
"How do I get back?" Scully asked.
"By returning the way you came."
Scully could have screamed, she had already tried that one. "Have I gone back in time?" she asked hardly believing that she was even considering it.
"No," the man said simply, "Not back, not more than a few hours." He started to back away.
"Who are you?" She called after him, "How do I get out of here?"
"I am an operative of The Order Of The Golden Dawn."
"What do I have to do to get out of here?" Scully persisted.
"Rewind, just rewind."
"Is Mulder alive?"
The man smiled, "Nobody dies on 'The X-files'. Tell the others I was here." The man dipped behind a bookcase and by the time Scully got there to look, he had gone completely.
Scully found herself wandering the streets again, she couldn't think straight. She was too hungry and far too tired to be able to make sense of much. She made her way back to the graveyard and studied it closely. There was nothing about any particular bit that she could distinguish from another, as far as the subject of time portals was concerned. She wasn't even sure why she had returned.
People had still been staring at her again as soon as she had ventured outside. Although she wondered why, more than this she just wanted them to stop. There was still someone out there looking out for her, not long after she had begun to despair of ever feeling comfortable again, she spotted a shop. She found herself a cheap black wig cut to shoulder length and a centre parting. It cost too much, she should have bought some food, Scully found herself thinking as she slipped the wig onto her head as best she could in the reflection of the shop window.
She walked out onto the streets of the East End not feeling as grateful to have her privacy back as she had thought she would be. She looked like a tramp and she was desperately hungry, she couldn't even sustain a constant emotion. It was perhaps this, which had eventually brought her back to the graveyard; there was nowhere else to go.
It wasn't long before Scully realised that on top of everything else, she was lost. She was standing in an alleyway and the graveyard was nowhere to be seen. She had no idea which way to turn, she had been walking in what she thought was the right direction, a daydream had took over her mind and that was it. She was too hungry to be thinking straight. A smell of cooked food reached her nose and her stomach growled painfully, she sought out the source. Walking down the alleyway a pub soon came into view. You have no money, she thought as she approached it. She prayed to the God she wasn't sure was there anymore that the landlord was feeling generous.
A Guest House in the East end, 8am, June 2000Gary woke up to find that Xavier was already awake and was watching him.
"Are you OK?" Gary asked.
"I was just thinking about what we do next."
"Well we need to get rid of those two next door first."
"Just seems a bit empty after all that danger and rushing about, if it wasn't for them I don't know how I would cope." Xavier said looking upset and a little frightened.
"We'll get settled, we'll manage." Gary replied.
"She's gone though isn't she?" Xavier asked.
Gary knew exactly what he meant but didn't know how to reply, he placed a hand on Xavier's head in an attempt to reassure.
There was a knock at the door and Gary tried to ignore it.
"We need to check this place out, with changing realities anything could have happened, but I will try to make us the best home I can." Gary tried to reassure.
There was another knock at the door.
"It seemed ok to me, I didn't see any trouble." Xavier replied.
"Hey are you two up yet?" Came a call from the other side of the door accompanied by some more banging.
"We really need to get rid of them." Gary said to Xavier as he swung his legs out of the bed and headed for the door.
Gary let Mulder in and he danced round his personal space in a state of nervous hyperactivity then suddenly noticing something he stopped.
"Hey I recognise you from somewhere," Mulder said.
"I don't think so," Gary replied a bit annoyed at the intrusion.
"No, I do, I've seen you before," Mulder continued obviously trying to think.
Gary noticed that one of Mulder's hands had also gone to his holster, he didn't feel comfortable with this man's level of paranoia. Xavier was pushing himself up to a sitting position and was looking very anxious.
Mulder didn't do very much, however. He wandered around the room for a few minutes then became so lost in thought that he completely dismissed what he had come for in the first place and started to drift out of the room. Gary and Xavier were just starting to relax when Mulder suddenly swung round and exclaimed, "I've got it!"
"We have never met before yesterday," Gary tried to insist.
"No we haven't," Mulder said his eyes gleaming with his mental success, "Goodnight Sweetheart," he added by way explanation.
"What?" Gary asked quite rightly confused but beginning to suspect what this might be all about.
"PBS late at night, you with two wives, though I have to say I don't remember a boyfriend," Mulder said still thinking it all through, "Yes, this all fits, you're a time traveller."
"What is going on?" Xavier asked Gary.
"He thinks I am a character from a TV drama like he is, very weird."
"No you were in a comedy, you were cheating on two wives and nearly getting caught all the time, lying your way out of it; I don't sleep much."
"I don't see how any of this can be considered a comedy," Xavier said feeling offended.
"Was there a point to your visit?" Gary asked Mulder.
Mulder stopped and tried to recall his reason for knocking on their door, " Er, we need to get out on the streets to look for Scully, Walter says. Those men who came after me might chase her too." Mulder said.
The Royal Oak, Whitechapel, Somewhere in time.
Scully walked through the door to the pub and as she approached the bar her senses where hit with the smell of cooking food, it was so much stronger inside and she could tell that it would be really tasty. She was suddenly overcome with hunger and didn't know how she could stay without begging. As she approached the bar a large man walked towards her on the serving side. She tried to smile at him.
"What can I get you?" the man asked.
Scully realised what she was going to be asking of him and wanted to save herself the embarrassment by running out into the street. "I have no money." She found herself saying.
The man had dark hair and was quite big, he had a friendly smile and a rough beard but by no means did he look stupid. "An American with no money?" He mused, smiling to himself. He turned to go.
"No wait!" Scully called after him, "What I meant was, could I work for you?"
"That's not how things are done." The man stated but she had got his attention.
"I know." Scully said trying to look as cute and girly as possible, "But I really would appreciate it."
The man smiled, "Right." The man said looking her up and down.
Scully hated herself at this moment but it couldn't be helped, "So what do you say?" She asked.
"I say, work for today on trial, then we'll see." The man replied.
"Ok," Scully smiled moving towards the bar hatch, "What's your name?"
"Victor." Her new boss replied, "Victor McGuire."
"Nice to meet you." Scully said offering her hand.
A Guest House in the East end, 9am, June 2000
Xavier sat on the edge of the bed looking at Gary sternly.
"I'll be as quick as I can, then I'll be back and that will be end of it."
"Right," Xavier replied, "I didn't come with you to end up being left on my own in strange places."
"We're leaving Mulder as well, he'll keep you company."
"He is the enemy."
"Not in this time."
"He's weird."
Gary hesitated, "Well yes, but not dangerous."
"I want to come with you."
"If I go with Walter it'll be…"
"Quicker?" Xavier snapped.
"You need the rest."
"I need not to have to think." Xavier said grimly. "I'm done resting."
Despite his resolve Gary saw that Xavier did still look tired and he held his left hand on his lap and made no attempt to use it.
Xavier saw where Gary was looking. "It is painful with arthritis, it's just my wrist. I'm not staying behind." He insisted.
"I was just trying to look after you."
"Well my wrist is going to hurt anyway, but I need to keep my mind off things and do something."
Gary smiled, "Ok, but just tell me when you've had enough."
"I ran the bar in London didn't I? Don't treat me like I'm less capable than I am."
"Ok ok," Gary said giving in, "We're going back to the graveyard and the surrounding streets; I don't know what else we can do."
"Ask at doors, she can't have stayed outside all this time." Xavier suggested.
"She could be in any one of a million different realities," Gary said looking grim, "I hope we don't end up stuck with those two."
Gary knelt down by one of the cases and started searching through the contents. He pulled out a fabric wrist support that had splints to hold it rigid. Xavier let Gary put it on, although he didn't like to wear it, he knew that with his wrist supported he would be able to use his hand a little.
"This all so pointless, what are we going to do other than wander around the streets?" Xavier commented.
"Maybe if we walk round the graveyard enough they'll accidentally slip into another time and they'll not be our problem any longer." Gary suggested.
Mulder was unhappy to be left behind but taking him was too risky. He seemed to be as much of a celebrity as Scully was, if all the cameramen were anything to go by.
By lunchtime they found themselves outside The Royal Oak. Although Xavier hadn't said anything he was getting slower and was leaning on Gary's arm more; they really needed a break.
"This place looks friendly enough." Walter commented gesturing to the pub. Gary really didn't want to go in, it seemed like asking for trouble. Xavier needed a rest though and he had no real reason for declining; he had never had any connection with the pub except in the past.
"Is this the place?" Xavier asked Gary recognising the name.
"Yes," Gary replied as they moved towards the front door, "The very same."
As they entered the pub Xavier took in his surroundings, he was finally seeing the places he had been told about. He noticed some small holes in the brickwork near the door, which looked like bullet holes, but he didn't say anything. All the traditional pubs like The Royal Oak had been symbolically torn down when alcohol became illegal so he had never been in one like this before.
When they entered the pub Xavier sank down into the nearest seat by the door and let Gary approach the bar. There was only one women serving and she had her back to them; they waited. From what Xavier could tell the interior looked essentially unchanged from the 1940s, he would have to check with Gary to confirm it. Xavier was in awe, it was all becoming more real to him than it had ever done, only a 1940s visit would have made experience more complete.
Xavier felt like he was being watched, when he looked to his right there were three men sat at a table and they were all looking at him. They didn't look very pleasant and when they noticed that Xavier had seen them they stood up and approached him. They looked menacing, a bit like drinkoes and definitely not wanting a social chat. Xavier tried to call to Gary but he didn't hear across the noise of the talking and music.
Gary stood at the bar waiting for the barmaid to serve them. She was leaning down to a fridge and taking out some beers the she stood up and went out back. Gary turned to Walter.
"I think we should stay here for a while, Xavier needs to rest." Gary announced.
"Fine with me," Walter replied, "If we ever get served."
Another group came into the pub and approached the bar blocking Xavier's view of Gary anyway but the three men came to stand at his table. Xavier grabbed the crutch that rested on the chair at his side though he wasn't sure what they intended to do and what he was going to do in response.
"So what's scum like you doing in here?" One of the men asked.
Xavier prayed for Gary to return quickly. "I am with friends." Xavier replied because he couldn't think of anything else.
"Friends ey?" One of the men said and they all erupted in laughter. "Nobody here is your friend."
Xavier was stunned, he was clutching his crutch in front of him, making it clear he was too easy to bother with but they were standing their ground.
Gary was still stood at the bar when a rather large man approached. Gary could hardly remember what they were going to order when he noticed who the man looked like, almost identically like Ron. It was the Ron he remembered from his time travelling days not the old man who was Xavier's father.
"What can I get you?" He asked.
Somehow Gary managed to deliver a list of drinks and tag a 'please' on the end. He was mesmerised watching this Ron sort out his order. Somebody called 'Victor' from somewhere behind the bar area and the Ron look-alike answered. Gary was amused, Victor? How the original Ron would have laughed to hear it.
Gary was broken out of his thoughts by a commotion near the door, he turned round and peered through the throng to see a table overturned and a man on the floor being kicked by a group of thugs.
"That's where Xavier was sat." Walter announced launching himself through the crowd. He grabbed each thug in turn rendering them temporarily incapable of further action as he went. Gary followed quickly behind and as soon as he could get through made for the curled up form on the floor. He flinched at Gary's touch; it was Xavier. Gary spoke to him; making sure that he new it was him and helped him up onto the seat again.
Xavier immediately sank into Gary's arms and wouldn't look up; he said he was all right. Gary watched as Victor came pushing through the throng.
"I don't want any trouble in here." Victor announced, "I'm barring you lot, get out of my pub now!"
Gary was shocked to find that the men who had attacked Xavier were limping back to their drinks and they were the ones getting thrown out.
"My friend here was the victim." He said indignantly.
"You had no business bringing him in here." Victor continued in a broad scouse accent filled with distaste, none of this alerted Xavier, which Gary was glad of.
Gary had no idea what was going on but he didn't intend to stay to find out.
"If this is a pub for some loony political nutters then they really should declare it on the door." He commented to Walter.
"Walter!" A woman with dark brown hair called from across the pub, she was rapidly approaching them but seemed friendly. As she got closer Gary noticed with shock and relief that it was a Scully if not the real one. She would do, he thought.
"Oh, look it's Scully!" He said just to cement the idea.
"You're going to have to leave," Scully said as she stood before them. "Where's Mulder."
Walter was in shock but managed to tell her he was back at the hotel.
"I thought you would never find me. I can't wait to see him." She said brimming with joy.
Gary noted an engagement ring on one of her fingers but chose to say nothing. Scully pulled what turned out to be a wig from her head to reveal a head of auburn hair. Maybe it was the right one, Gary thought.
"Can you stand?" Gary asked Xavier.
"Yes." Xavier said finally lifting his head, "I'm just going to be a bit bruised."
Xavier looked a bit shaken but he managed to walk with Gary's help and they took a taxi back to the hotel.
Once back in Walter and Mulder's room Walter woke Mulder who had fallen asleep on the bed and presented Scully to him. Mulder immediately leapt to his feet and hugged Scully. Just when Gary was beginning to think things were going to go smoothly, Mulder let go of Scully and wrapped himself round Walter planting a more than friendly kiss on the big man's lips. Whilst Scully was beginning to look suitably horrified Walter returned the kiss. Gary felt he had to interrupt before things got needlessly complicated.
"Well now that you've all found each other again, we had better go find a portal." Gary said brightly.
Once the group had been safely posted through some portal or other Gary quickly returned to Xavier. He had gotten up on the bed and looked exhausted.
"They're gone then?" Xavier asked.
"Yes, all gone."
Xavier pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed grimacing with the effort.
"Are you sure you're OK?" Gary asked.
"I'm not sure I like it round here, was this what it was like?" Xavier responded looking upset.
"Sometimes, in the wrong places, suppose I never visited The Royal Oak in the present before, bit of a shock." Gary replied sitting beside Xavier.
"My father always said it was a lovely old pub in the forties," Xavier added.
"Whereas now it's full of thugs."
Xavier looked a bit apprehensive and nervous, Gary thought.
"Are you ok?" He asked.
"It's just I was thinking about Mulder and Scully." Xavier replied.
"Yes?"
"He was with Walter wasn't he?"
"I think he was very much 'with' Walter."
"Only Scully was wearing a ring, an engagement ring, and the way she looked at him."
Gary went a bit white, "You mean?"
"Well, we didn't exactly check did we?" Xavier pointed out. "That was the wrong bloody Scully!"