DELIVERANCE FROM EVIL
By Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  MSR, post-col
Rating:  R to NC-17
Disclaimer:  These characters belong to CC and company -
We're just using their clones to show how we think the
mytharc will play out -
Spoilers:  Up through Season 7 "All Things", and FTF

Author Notes:  At the end of the story!

Feedback:  We would adore it:  char@chaffin.com, and
Tnv099@aol.com

SUMMARY:
Mulder and Scully discover the horrifying truth about the
alien colonization - and the ensuing battle will test their
strength and their committment to each other -

PART TWO

~ Chapter Eleven ~

"Hey - it's me."  The voice on the other end of the line whooped in
excitement.

"Jesus, man!  Where've you been?  We've been worried out of our
friggin' minds!  You wouldn't believe the rumors..."

"Oh, I'd believe it... listen.  I need your help, but I don't want
to get into very much over the phone.  I am going to email you
something - and when you get it I need you to do exactly what the
email says, and when you've done it email me back and let me know. 
I'm sorry to have to be so mysterious - but I've got good reason."

"It's okay - I understand.  Everything's still secure over here - we
swept about ten minutes ago.  Email away..."

After the click in his ear signaled the end of the call, Byers
turned to Frohike, and spoke reassuringly.  "He's okay - and I'd bet
Agent Scully and Skinner are with him.  He needs our help..."

Mulder disconnected his cell phone, and smiled in relief.  Turning
to his laptop he tapped out the remainder of the list he'd been
furiously typing as he'd spoken to Byers, then hit 'send'.  As an
afterthought he emailed the guys again and asked them to dig out the
Triple Fat Goose parka and bibs he'd worn to Antarctica; Langly had
borrowed them months ago and had forgotten to return them.  No sense
in buying another set of arctic gear when he already had a perfectly
good set; they'd need to save as much of their money as possible.

Money... another problem.  Mulder sat back in the under-padded hotel
chair and rubbed at his face, pondering their best angle on the money
situation.  Scully had left everything behind in his apartment when
they'd fled. Her ID and badge, all her credit cards... useless now
because there wasn't a safe way to go back there.  No doubt the
building had been under surveillance all this time.  These people did
not make mistakes.  Skinner would be able to access his funds, as
would Bill and Tara.  And Teena Mulder's estate still sat safe and
gaining interest, in three different banks.  Even if Scully couldn't
touch her account, they'd be good for money, at least enough to get
them everything they needed for the trip and to take with them to use
until paper money ceased to be of value.  

Mulder didn't doubt that time would come, and quicker than they'd
like to see.  He shut down the computer and prepared to find Scully
and Skinner and see how far they'd come on their own lists.

*************

Scully sat on the floor in Skinner's room as they made notes of all
the supplies they would need to take with them.  First and foremost
on Scully's mind were medical supplies.  "Most of the things we'll
need we can get at a local pharmacy, but the drugs are going to be a
problem," she said.

"Can't you write a prescription?" Skinner asked.

She shook her head.  "No prescription pad for one thing," she told
him, patting the pockets of her borrowed clothes.  "Besides, it would
be too suspicious to write that many prescriptions.  No pharmacist
would fill them all."

Skinner peered at her over the top of his glasses.  "We can go to
several different pharmacies," he suggested.

She shook her head again.  "No.  I don't want to take any chances
that their computers are linked.  I don't want my name throwing up
any red flags - not when we're so close to getting out of here."

Skinner nodded and frowned.  "I'm open to suggestions."

"Well..." Scully tapped her pen on top of her notepad.  "I have an
idea but I don't know how legal it is."  She looked up at her boss
with troubled eyes.  He gazed back down at her for several long
minutes weighing her words thoughtfully.

"You're not suggesting that we go out and buy them on a street
corner, are you?" he asked doubtfully.  

Scully grinned.  "No, Sir."

"In that case - extraordinary times call for extraordinary
measures," he intoned solemnly.  "What's your plan?"

She was busy scribbling down the names and dosages of the drugs she
thought they would need.  "The Lone Gunmen," she said, looking up
from her list.  "Mulder is going to contact them to ask them to bring
some of the other things that we'll need and to try to convince them
to come with us.  I'll ask him to give them this list.  If anyone can
get what I want, those three can."

Skinner peered over her shoulder to see what she was writing. 
Scully twisted around to look up at him.  "What have you got there?"
he asked, nodding toward the list.

"Well, I can think of a dozen more things I'd like to ask for, but
this will have to do," she said, reading off the names of several
antibiotics and medicines for pain, as well as medications to control
high blood pressure, a prescription for migraine relief and a few
others.  "Who knows what we're going to find when we get to wherever
it is that we're going, Sir?" she explained.

Skinner nodded and flopped down into a chair, bracing his elbows on
the arms of the chair and studying her over the tips of his steepled
fingers.  "Listen... we're going to be spending a lot of time
together in some pretty cramped quarters," he said.  Scully frowned
and nodded. Skinner regarded her seriously, and continued, "I'm not
really your boss anymore.  In all honesty, you and Mulder are the
leaders of this group now."

She shook her head and opened her mouth to argue.  Skinner held up
his hand.  "The point I'm trying to make is that I don't think we can
go through the rest of our lives calling each other 'Sir' and 'Agent
Scully'."

Scully smiled shyly.  "No, I guess we can't."

"The name is Walter," he said softly.  "Or Walt, if you prefer."

Scully looked up.  "It's going to take some time to get used to
this... Walter."

"That it will, Dana."

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and picked up the telephone.  "I'd
better get this list to Mulder before he calls the guys," she said,
dialing the phone.  The phone rang three times before Mulder answered
it in their room.

"Mulder?" she asked.  "Do you have a minute?"  She listened for a
moment and then nodded at Skinner.  "Good," she said into the phone. 
"Would you come down here then?"

She set the receiver back into its cradle.  "He'll be right down,"
she told Skinner.  A minute later there was a knock at the door and
Skinner opened it, stepping aside to allow Mulder to enter the room. 
Mulder immediately walked over to where Scully was sitting on the
floor, still making notes on her pad.  He set his hand on the top of
her head and she looked up smiling.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Have you called the Gunmen yet?" she wondered.  He nodded.

"Yes, but I can call them again in a little while.  Why?"

"Just this."  Scully tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and
handed it to him.  "Walter and I have been working on a list of
medical supplies," she told him.  "This is a list of things I don't
think we'll be able to get on our own.  I'd like you to ask the guys
about them - see if they can get them for us."

Mulder raised arched brows at her casual use of their bosses' first
name.  "Walter?" he said slowly.

"Dana and I have come to an... understanding," Skinner said with an
evil smile on his face.  Mulder scowled at the older man and Scully
stood up, placing her hand on his chest.

"That's right, Mulder," she said.  "Walter pointed out that he's
technically not our boss any longer.  He suggested that since we are
going to be sharing... intimate quarters - " She threw a teasing
glance over her shoulder at Skinner, "it's silly for us to be so
formal."  She smiled sweetly at Mulder.  "I told him that he could
call you Fox."
Mulder choked and Scully clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a
giggle.

"You don't mind do you Fox?" Skinner asked with a devilish smile.  
Getting into the silliness of the moment, Mulder slung an arm around
Scully's shoulders and his answering smile was just as evil.

"No problem, Skinman."  Scully could not contain the laugh that
burbled up at the astonished look on Skinner's face.  

"On second thought," Skinner said, "I think I'll stick with Mulder."

Mulder grinned.  "Sounds good, Walt."  Skinner heaved a long-
suffering sigh.

"Don't you have a phone call to make?" he asked pointedly.

"Right."  Mulder looked down at Scully, pleased to see a tiny smile
still playing on her lips.  "Anything else that you want me to ask
them to get for you?  I've been emailing them - I can send another
one right now."

"Weeelll," she said slowly.  "Maybe one of those portable
defibrillators - like the ones that they carry on airplanes now?" she
asked hopefully.

"I'll see what we can do," he promised.  "How is the supply list
coming?" he asked.  Skinner lifted the notebook from the table.

"We're pretty much finished," he said.  "We've done our best to
whittle it down to the basics - clothes, bottled water and non-
perishable food items.  We also decided on some camping gear - a camp
stove, pots, pans, metal plates, utensils."  He flipped the page and
ran his finger down another list.  "Medical supplies, towels, cloth
diapers for Meggie, and personal care items like toothpaste, soap,
shampoo and deodorant."  He looked up from the list with a crooked
grin.  "We're going to spend a lot of time together in a confined
space over the next couple of weeks... might as well smell good!"  

He handed the notebook to Mulder.  "We still need to pick up car
seats for the kids."  He sighed and scratched his head.  "We'll have
to wait until we're settled someplace to get whatever else we need."

Scully took the notebook from Mulder's hands and tore several pages
from it.  She handed one list to Skinner, another to Mulder and kept
the rest.  "Let's get started."

************

Scully and Tara trudged wearily through the shopping mall. While
they shopped Mulder had gone to the pharmacy to pick up the
miscellaneous medical supplies and other personal care items that
were on the list while Bill and Skinner had been sent out to buy the
camping equipment and car seats.  They were also having the Excursion
outfitted with a roof rack to accommodate their supplies.  

Tara blew a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes and the smile she
directed at Scully was thin from weariness.  "Under different
circumstances, this would be fun," she said in an equally tired
voice.  She and Scully had taken on the Herculean task of buying
clothes for everyone.  They were doing their best to keep their
purchases to a minimum, knowing that space in the Excursion would be
at a premium.  Still, buying enough clothes to outfit seven people
for a harsh winter, even if they were only buying the basics, was a
daunting task.  They had quickly realized that they were not going to
be able to lug all of their purchases around the mall and had made
arrangements to have their packages delivered to the mall management
office for safekeeping.  

Scully glanced at her watch and groaned.  "We have less than ninety
minutes before they come back to pick us up," she told her sister-in-
law.  "Let's get this over with."

Seventy minutes later they only had a few items left on their list
and were making their way through the mall toward a sporting goods
store where they hoped to find a parka and boots for Scully, when she
suddenly stopped in front of a toy store.

Tara looked at her questioningly.  "Let's go in," Scully said
impulsively.  Tara followed her sister-in-law into the store.

"What are you doing, Dana?" she asked.

Scully looked up from a display of stuffed animals.  "I want to get
something for the kids," she said.  Tara looked at the list in her
hand and then back at Scully.

"But Dana... we don't have much room," she reminded her helplessly. 
Scully grabbed her hand.

"Look - they won't understand any of this and they're going to be
scared and confused."  She licked her lips as she tried to explain. 
"God, Tara... they're children.  They should at least have a couple
of toys."

Tara smiled and her eyes were bright with tears.  "Thank you, Dana,"
she whispered.  "I've been thinking the same thing, but I was afraid
to ask."

Scully shook her head.  "Listen, Tara.  If you have an idea or a
suggestion don't be afraid to speak up.  We need all the good ideas
we can get our hands on!"

The two women quickly brought a stuffed rabbit for Meggie and a
coloring book and crayons for Matthew as well as a few other small
toys and storybooks.  Time was running short and they hurried to the
sporting good store to make the last of their purchases.  They went
to the management office to collect all of their bags and settled
down on a bench near the mall entrance to wait for their ride.

Tara leaned her head wearily against the back of the bench and
watched the doors for any sign of Bill.  Scully was skimming over the
list one last time making sure that they had bought everything they
needed.  She looked up at a small sound from Tara.  "What's so
funny?" she asked seeing a tiny smile playing around the corners of
her sister-in-law's lips.

"I was just thinking," Tara said slowly.  She rolled her head
against the back of the bench to look at Scully.  "How much would you
have paid to see the expression on Mulder's face when he put a six
month supply of tampons down on the counter at the drugstore?"

Ten minutes later, they were still grinning as they helped the men
load their purchases into the Excursion.

**************

"I wish you guys would change your minds, and just come with us now.
I don't like the idea of you hanging around in DC."  Mulder loaded
the rest of the gear in the back of Langly's beat-up old Volvo.  He'd
taken a cab from the drug store, figuring he'd borrow the Volvo long
enough to take the supplies back to Bethesda and then turn it over to
Byers who would take it back to DC.

Now Mulder turned to face his three friends as they helped him pack
up the last of the items on the list.  Byers hefted the defibrillator
into the back hatch; Mulder was dying to know where they'd found it
but figured he'd be better off not knowing.  Frohike glanced at the
printed list in his hands and nodded, then his eyes met Mulder's and
he grinned in response and replied in his gruff voice.

"Come on, Mulder... you'd deny us our fun?  We wanna see what goes
down.  We'll come, really we will - but not yet.  Not until we see
what we can do to muck up the works around here."  Byers turned from
the hatch and added his two cents' worth.

"It's better if we stay for a while, Mulder... I'm still trying to
get hold of Suzanne.  I wouldn't be able to assure my own safety
until I know for sure that she's okay... preferably with me but in
the off-chance it's not possible, at least safe somewhere."  Mulder
nodded.  He understood, but it was still tough to just let them stay
not knowing for sure if they'd survive.  He clasped Langly on the
shoulder with one hand and gripped Frohike's stubby fingers with the
other.

"Don't leave it too long, okay?  Use your heads.  And the guns, but
only if you need them."  He nodded toward the small arsenal he'd
piled in an empty box, then eyed Langly with a stern glare.  Langly
had been enchanted by the new additions to their personal stash; none
of them had ever gotten around to buying guns and it had always
bugged Langly that they'd been lacking in the firearms department. 
The blonde haired man shrugged and grinned.

"I'll behave!  Jesus, why does everyone always assume I'm the
irresponsible one?"  Langly was miffed.  Mulder laughed and one hand
reached out to tug on a hank of Langly's hair.

"Could be those Goldi-locks and the Buddy Holly glasses... or maybe
the way you can't resist playing with things.  Just take it easy and
don't get happy with the target practice... that's all I ask.  And
don't shoot your eye out."  Mulder climbed in the car and buckled in,
while Byers jumped in the passenger seat.  Frohike shook Mulder's
hand again and gave him some last-minute instructions while Langly
cuffed him lightly on the shoulder.

"Take care, Mulder - and take care of the delectable Agent Scully. 
Tell her I'm sorry we couldn't all come up there to say goodbye but
somebody has to stay here and make sure our stuff doesn't get stolen.
And Langly here is such a chicken-shit he'd probably hide under the
bed if those bastards came knocking."  Mulder shook his head and
gunned the engine, partially drowning out Langly's injured squawk at
his buddy's callous remark.  He eased out into the street, leaving
them bickering on the sidewalk.  With one last holler to them to take
their argument inside where it was safer, Mulder drove off, Byers
adjusting his seat belt and stretching his long legs in the passenger
seat.

They had been driving in companionable silence for about ten minutes
before Byers spoke up.  "Mulder... can we fight this?  Realistically -
how much of a chance do we have?"  Mulder glanced sideways at him as
he turned onto the Interstate.

"We can live for a while, if we go where the bees can't follow.  One
thing I can tell you: a handful of uninfected rebels with a few guns
and a lot of prayers will not stop colonization.  We need a way to
stop the virus and that means finding a vaccine.  That's why we
needed the lab equipment you guys dug up for us.  Scully wants to
experiment once we get settled up north.  I wish you'd all
reconsider, and just come with us."  Byers shook his head and the
smile he threw on Mulder was meant to reassure.

"We'll be fine.  I promise as soon as we can, we'll come north. 
You'll keep in touch somehow and we'll come to you when we can. 
It'll be okay, Mulder... we'll be okay."  Mulder smiled back but the
gesture felt empty - and it scared him to think he might never see
his friends again.  But he refused to let on to Byers that he was
anything but confident and sure about their future.

And Byers refused as well, to show his fear.


***********


~ Chapter Twelve ~

"So anyway, I was probably ten years old, which would have made
Charlie seven," Scully said.  "Mom and Dad were out at a party at the
Officers' Club. Bill and Missy were supposed to be home watching us,
but Bill had a hot date and Missy had slipped out to go down the
street to her friend, Becky's house, to watch 'Donnie and Marie' and
do each other's hair."  She made a face and took a sip from the
bottle of beer she was holding.  She was sitting on the floor between
Mulder's legs; her head and back propped up on his chest.  The
children were asleep in the bedroom and the adults were gathered in
the living area of Bill and Tara's small hotel suite, sipping beer
and talking.  Skinner was sprawled out in one of the chairs, sleepily
listening to Scully's story while Bill and Tara were snuggled up on
the sofa.

"Who was the hot date with?" Tara asked, arching a brow at her
husband.  Bill shrugged.  

"She's making all of this up," he said loftily.

Scully leaned forward.  "Her name was Cindy Beckman," she said. 
"She was very tall and had long, dark hair and big breasts," she
confided throwing a look over her shoulder.  "You would have liked
her," she told Mulder.  He smiled wolfishly and waggled his brows at
her.  

Scully sat back, squirming to get comfortable against his hard
chest.  "Where was I?" she asked, propping the bottle on Mulder's
leg. "Oh, right.  So Charlie and I are alone in the house and we're
bored.  Charlie pulls out a football and we start throwing it back
and forth."

"Mom always said don't play ball in the house," Tara intoned
quietly.  Scully laughed and pointed her beer bottle at her sister-in-
law.

"Right!  Well I threw the ball at Charlie but he wasn't paying
attention and it sailed past him, crashing into a bookcase.  One of
Bill's baseball trophies fell off the shelf and it broke into three
pieces.  We both stood there for a second or two and then suddenly
Charlie just freaked out.  He was running around in circles, crying,
'Bill's gonna kill us; he's gonna kill us.'  I grabbed him by the
shoulders and I shook him hard and sent him into the kitchen to get
the glue while I picked the pieces up from the floor.  Charlie
brought the glue back and we very carefully glued the whole thing
back together. Then every morning we would wake up and come
downstairs to make sure the glue was still holding.  After about two
weeks, we forgot all about it.  A month later, Bill was dribbling his
basketball in the living room while he was talking on the phone with
Cindy.  The ball got away from him and hit the same bookcase and down
came the trophy.  Mom took one look at the broken trophy and left the
room.  A minute later she was back with the bottle of glue.  She
handed the bottle to me and said, "Here, Dana.  Why don't you and
Charlie help your brother glue that back together.'"  Scully laughed
again.  "I have no idea how she figured it out, but she knew."

Bill scowled at her.  "I loved that trophy," he muttered into his
beer.

Skinner straightened up in his chair.  "To the Scullys," he said,
lifting his bottle into the air.  Scully smiled and blinked back a
tear as everyone lifted his or her drink in salute.  They drank;
Mulder put down his empty bottle and the hug he bestowed upon Scully
was warm and comforting and exactly what she needed the most.  She
leaned her head back against him and her smile was teary, but filled
with good memories... only good ones.

It was late in the evening when they finally gave in for the need to
sleep; everyone had been having such a good time it was hard to stop.
Their first true bonding together as a new family and no one had
wanted to give it up; it was vital and precious to them. After Tara's
third yawn and Bill's snoring doze on the sofa, however... it was
decided to call it a night.  

Scully watched fondly as her brother and sister-in-law helped each
other walk a straight line to the door of the second bedroom in their
suite.  Bill had roused himself just enough to grumble a disparaging
remark over his shoulder about sound-proofing in the walls, before
Tara shushed him with yet another, "Shut up, Bill!"  Skinner had
barked out a laugh and had gathered up all the beer bottles and
thrown them away, before tossing a smile and a goodnight at Mulder
and Scully and letting himself out of the suite to head over to his
own room.  

Scully stood and stretched, the thin cotton of her tank top riding
up and affording Mulder a glimpse of soft white skin and little
bellybutton.  He leered at her comically and she huffed out a sleepy
laugh, then held out her hand and helped him to his feet.

"Don't make fun of my navel, Mulder... at least it doesn't collect
lint!"  She looked down at it; being a little "outy" of a navel there
wasn't any room for lint storage.  Mulder pretended to be injured at
her admonishment.

"I would never poke fun at your navel, Scully - I happen to think
it's cute."  To prove his point he touched it gently with the tip of
a finger; that one touch giving Scully a lovely shiver which she
didn't bother to suppress.  Mulder stared down into her sleepy eyes
and his murmur was low and a little shaky against her ear.

"Bed-time, for both of us.  We have a very long day tomorrow."  She
nodded and leaned into his chest for a quick snuggle before they left
Bill's suite and headed next door to their own.  She disengaged the
lock and entered; Mulder pushed the door to their room closed behind
them.  Scully turned into his welcoming arms, felt his hands move
over her back and she nestled closer, wishing she could freeze this
moment in time.  They were leaving tomorrow.  The Excursion was
packed; they only had a few things left to carry down with them when
they checked out.  In the morning they would leave the East Coast and
all that was familiar behind and she didn't know if they would ever
be back.

"Hey," Mulder whispered against her hair.  Scully looked up.

"I have an idea," he told her as he pulled her toward the bathroom. 
She watched him tug back the shower curtain and turn on the taps,
testing the water temperature on his hand.  When it was adjusted to
his satisfaction, he rummaged through the basket of complimentary
soaps provided by the hotel and dumped the contents of a small bottle
of shower gel into the tub.  She looked at Mulder and then back at
the small hotel bathtub.  She wasn't sure if he wanted them to take a
bath together, but she knew that there was no way they would both
fit.  She tilted her head back as he leaned down to her.

"I don't know when you're going to have a chance to enjoy a bath
again," he said, a note of apology entering his voice.  "I'm afraid
that it's going to be showers for a very long time."  Scully's eyes
slid shut as he kissed the tip of her nose.  "Go ahead," he murmured.
"I'm going to watch some television."

She waited until he had pulled the door closed behind him to slip
out of her clothes.  She eased into the tub; a happy sigh escaping
her as the hot water immediately helped to relax her aching muscles. 
Scully stretched out an arm and grabbed a towel from the vanity,
folding it up and stuffing it behind her head.  She could feel the
tension drain out of her tired body and into the hot water as her
thoughts turned to Mulder.  She had never known that she was capable
of loving another person so much.  Love had crept upon her one day
when she wasn't paying attention and then she had spent years trying
to deny it.  Now though, she was free to express her love for him and
lavish her attentions on him.  

Scully idly picked up a small bar of soap.  She didn't know how she
would have survived the last few days without Mulder's loving
presence, she thought as she slid the sliver of soap over her arms. 
Each night he had held her in his arms, hushing her tears against his
strong chest until she slept, wrapped in his protective embrace.  His
soothing whispers of love and comfort had buoyed her and his gentle
kisses reminded her that there was still a life to be lived.

She rolled her head against the towel.  What would it be like, she
wondered, to forget about everything else and simply concentrate on
Mulder and the way he made her feel?  Her hands drifted restlessly in
a line down her throat, her fingers skimming across the tops of her
breasts.  She cupped one hand around herself and imagined that it was
Mulder's hand testing the small weight of her breast - his fingers
tracing teasingly around the nipple.  Behind the closed lids of her
eyes, she could see him leaning over the tub, the heat of the water
and desire bringing a flush to his cheeks.  She touched her fingers
to her lips, feeling Mulder's mouth moving over them - his hands
lovingly kneading her breasts.  Her hands - his hands - slid over the
smooth skin of her stomach, fingers dipping into her belly button
briefly before continuing their journey down her body.  She gasped as
her fingers trailed along the soft skin of her inner thigh -
teasingly, tantalizingly close.  A tiny moan escaped her as her
fingers finally slid between her legs and she shifted restlessly in
the water as she imagined his lips trailing the same path down her
body as he whispered words of love and praise against her tender
flesh.  

Every muscle in her body tightened under her phantom lover's teasing
and skillful touch.  Wanting to see his face, she opened her eyes and
gasped with disappointment.  Alone.  Her fingers slowed, then stopped
and she buried her face in her hands.  Alone.  Why - when everything
she wanted was in the next room?  Scully stood up abruptly and pulled
the plug from the drain letting the water swirl around her feet as
she climbed out.  She ran a towel over her wet body, quivering as the
roughness of the terrycloth chafed her over-stimulated flesh.  She
wiped her hand over the fogged mirror and studied her reflection. 
Her eyes were wide and dark; her cheeks pink and her hair curling
softly around her face in the humid air.  She wondered what Mulder
saw when he looked at her tired little face... then she expelled an
impatient breath.  Jesus - what was wrong with her?

In the next room was a man who loved her without reservation -
without artifice.  And she stood in the bathroom staring anxiously
into a steamed-up mirror looking for imperfections.  Scully shook her
head in self-disgust.  She had wasted enough time...

**************

In the dim light of the bedroom Mulder lounged near the foot of the
bed and idly flipped through television stations.  With no cable this
hotel's viewing choices were limited to three news stations and a
public broadcast station, and one free channel that mostly played
really lousy Muzac versions of such classics as "Tie a Yellow
Ribbon".  For a fairly classy hotel the TV sucked, Mulder thought
with a resigned sigh.  He shut it off and tossed the remote down on
the nightstand, then stretched out with his arms behind his head. 
Thinking vague thoughts about the journey tomorrow, he knew the first
thing they needed to do was fine-tune their basic route north.  They
would travel through an enormous portion of Canada; Mulder hoped
their exposure to the effects of the virus would be slim.  He didn't
want Bill and Tara or the kids to see that kind of carnage.  Nor did
he want to see Scully suffer any more of it and think about the way
it had destroyed her beloved family.  

Scully... God, he loved her so much!  Mulder stared up at the
ceiling with unfocused eyes, thinking about the way she'd felt in his
arms when they'd stood in the doorway of their room.  So soft and
small... so much of a woman contained in that delicate frame of hers.
Beauty abounding and the courage of a hundred men... how could
someone that tender and fragile in appearance have the sort of
fortitude necessary to do as her brother had asked, and end his
suffering?  Mulder was humbled by it... by her.

He could hear faint splashing behind the closed door of the bath.
Usually they left the door open when one or the other of them took a
shower, but tonight Mulder had pulled the door closed behind him,
wanting the steam of the hot water to stay with her and help to ease
her sore muscles.  He'd wanted her to have an extra measure of
seclusion and privacy knowing that both would be in short supply as
they traveled north.  All of them would be living in each other's
pockets; there would be little time for modesty, much less anything
else.

Including intimacy.

Mulder sighed and let his mind drift, allowing himself the luxury of
imagining Scully surrounded by soft fluffy bubbles and steamy hot
water.  Her hair would curl into irresistible little ringlets in that
humid atmosphere; he'd seen it happen in DC on the weekends when it
was summer-damp outside.  Enchanting... enticing too, the slope of
her rounded shoulders rising above all that silky foam.  He could see
it all in his mind, and he let it wash over him and welcomed the
tightening of his body as he played the images behind his now-closed
eyes.  

Her sweet breasts would be buoyant in the water, their rosy tips
visible above the bubbles floating on the surface of her bath.  The
elegant line of her throat would be displayed to innocent advantage
as she leaned her head back against the rim of the tub; Mulder could
imagine trailing his lips up and down that arch of perfect skin. She
would smile against his lips when he raised his head from her throat
to kiss her... one hand would press into his bare shoulder and trail
down his chest on a curious trek toward the heavy throb of his
groin... Mulder let his hand wander that path her hand would take,
over and around each of his sensitive nipples and heading in one
determined trail until his fingers could reach the buttons of his fly
and flick them open.  Those tender fingers of hers would tickle
through the springy hair covering his already rapidly-growing
erection; he let his - now her - hand delve into the opening he'd
made in his jeans; let her phantom hand find him, and wrap around the
hard flesh.  He stifled a groan against the arm he'd flung against
his face, picturing the naked desire in her eyes as she watched her
fingers stroke and pull at him - the way she'd helplessly lick at her
lips as her face moved into him, closer and closer, until he could
feel her soft uneven puffs of breath on his overheated skin,
anticipate the exact moment that lush mouth of hers would open up and
take him inside -

"Mmmm, Scully..."

******************

Wrapping a towel securely around her body, Scully opened the
bathroom door and was immediately stunned motionless.  Her heart
thudded wildly in her chest and the sight that met her eyes
transfixed her.  The light from the bathroom filtered over the bed
illuminating Mulder as he reclined on top of the rumpled blankets. 
His head was turned away from her and he seemed unaware of her
presence in the room.  One arm was thrown over his eyes; he was bare-
chested and his jeans were open.  Scully leaned against the door
frame watching as his free hand moved slowly over his body - down his
chest and over his stomach - taking the same path along his body as
she had taken over her own only moments before.  She bit back a moan
when he reached into his jeans.  His hand closed lightly around his
penis and his fingers moved languidly over his hardened flesh.  He
groaned under his breath and his hips rocked in time with the slow
pumping of his hand.  Her name escaped his lips on a fractured sigh
and she must have made a sound because he lifted the arm shielding
his eyes and lazily turned his head toward her.  Scully swallowed
hard and her eyes met his for a moment before they drifted down his
body, hungrily watching his stroking fingers.  

Without embarrassment Mulder lifted his other hand and held it out,
beckoning to her.  She moved across the room, stopping when she was
about a foot away from him.  He sat up and caught the tips of her
fingers with his own, pulling her forward until she was standing
directly in front of him.  He tilted his head back and Scully knew he
was waiting for her to make the first move.  

She hesitantly placed her hands on his shoulders and felt his
stroking hands on the back of her thighs, his fingers flirting with
the edge of the towel wrapped around her body.  Licking her lips, she
leaned down and cupped his face between her hands, lowering her mouth
onto his.  Her kiss was tentative at first but with the familiar
taste of Mulder on her lips, she quickly grew bold.  Her tongue
teased the corner of his mouth, begging for entrance and his lips
parted beneath hers on a sigh.

His hands reached between them and he tugged on the towel, baring
her to his touch.  Scully gasped against his mouth as his hands
slipped up to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples - just
as she had imagined him doing in her solitary bath - but better... so
much better.  She broke away from their kiss and leaned her forehead
against his.  Mulder's hands drifted down to settle on her hips and
he urged her to kneel on the floor in front of him.  This time he
framed her face between his warm palms and rubbed his mouth over hers
and she was quickly lost again in their kiss.

*****************

She tasted like heaven... more delicious than ever because this kiss
was sweetened with the knowledge that there would be no more waiting -
no more interruptions.  Mulder licked at her full lower lip and
stifled another groan against it when her tongue mimicked the action
and then dipped inside for a longer sip of him.  Slipping along his
teeth and burrowing inquisitively into the inside of his cheeks;
stroking the roof of his mouth and then twisting sensuously with his
tongue... she was maddeningly thorough in her investigation of the
inner recesses of his mouth.  Mulder let her explore, feeling as if
they had all the time in the world to taste, and feel... and love.

*******************

Scully broke from the intense kiss and his faint moan of protest was
lost in the shudder he released as she trailed curious fingers along
his denim-clad legs; he inhaled sharply when the back of her hand
brushed against his stomach.  She stroked hesitant fingers across the
straining tip of his erection.  So hard... so full.  God...

"Show me," she pleaded as she wrapped her hand in a loose fist
around the base of his penis.  She smiled softly when she felt a
quiver move through his body and his hand covered hers, guiding her
into a slow, lazy rhythm.  She bent her head, watching her hand move
softly, delicately over his flesh.  He felt amazing; steely and hot
and silky and thick; the musk of his body such a powerful aphrodisiac
that she felt almost light-headed from the effect on her senses. 
Mulder brushed his fingers across her cheek and she lifted her head,
allowing herself to drown in it, opening her mouth under his lips. 
Scully lifted both hands to his chest and pushed him back, taking
control.  She reveled in the sound of his distressed groan at the
loss of contact with her hand, and shushed him gently.

"Lean back a little," she whispered, nodding approvingly when he
braced himself on his elbows. "That's good," she said.  Her hands
trailed down his chest and she pressed her lips to his in a brief,
hard kiss.  Against the roughness of his cheek she repeated it. "So
good..." She rolled her mouth down over his stubbled chin and licked
a path along the line of his throat, nibbling on the tendon on the
side of his neck, feeling his pulse pounding against her lips.

"I love you," she whispered, rasping the flat of her tongue over his
nipple, and Mulder shuddered beneath her touch.  Her mouth traveled
in a series of nibbling kisses down his torso and her hands traced
patterns over his chest and ribs before settling onto his hips.

"Let's get rid of these," she suggested, curling her fingers into
the open waistband of his jeans.  Mulder lifted his hips and she
peeled them down and off his legs.  She slid up his body and he fell
back onto the mattress.  Scully nuzzled her cheek against his belly
and stroked her thumbs over his hips.  She could feel him twitching
against her breasts and she raised her head, propping her chin on his
stomach.

****************

He was being driven slowly out of his mind... and adoring every
second of it.  No other woman had ever lavished such unselfish
attention upon him.  In his years of experience with the opposite sex
he had always found that his bed partners had been mainly focused
upon their own goals of satisfaction and their brief and distracted
caresses had left him wanting and bereft.  He'd never failed to bring
them to orgasm but any pride that he might have taken in his prowess
as a sensual man had usually flown out the window as soon as it was
over.

Not so with this woman... not with Scully.  How could it be anything
less than perfect?  With each touch of her soft hands, each kiss and
lick and bite and breathless moan she told him without words how she
desired him - loved him.  It humbled him anew, the depth of love
Scully gave to him without reservation... he had to give it back,
needed to show her in the same deep measure.  He was suddenly urgent
in his need to show her.  He looked at her and the hot gleam in her
eyes actually made his mouth water.

*****************

"Come up here, Scully," he said hoarsely.  She shook her head,
smiling with shaky resolve.  She wasn't ready to release him, to let
him take over.  She needed this right now; needed the control, the
aggression...

"Not yet, Mulder," she whispered.  Scully slid down his body, her
hair trailing over his stomach and across his hips.  She inhaled
deeply, drawing his musky scent into her lungs.  Her tongue darted
out in a long, exploratory lap and she raised her eyes to his when
she felt him sit up.  Her hands slipped into the curve of his lean
hips and she held him fast as she stared into his dilated eyes.

"I want to know everything about you that I don't already know," she
told him and he groaned deeply as her hot, moist breath washed over
him.  Scully lowered her head again and Mulder leaned forward,
tunneled his hand under her hair, and then cupped her cheek as she
took him into her mouth.  He chanted her name on a rough thread of
sound, praising her; begging her as she caressed him with tugging
lips and swirling tongue, her fingers scratching lightly over his
hair-roughened thighs.  When she lifted her head again she saw that
his face was flushed and beads of sweat were standing out on his
forehead as she rose up on her knees to kiss him again. Their mouths
met and mated in a kiss both gentle and insistent as her hand moved
gently over him, fingers sliding on the wetness she'd left on his
skin.  

Mulder wrapped his arms around her and her world tilted as he lifted
her onto the bed and stretched out alongside of her.  "I want a turn
too," he told her as his swept his hand down her body from shoulder
to thigh.  Scully shivered under his touch and she cupped the back of
his neck in her hand.

*****************

The look of her against the white sheets of their bed was unlike any
fantasy he'd ever produced in the video of his mind; Mulder was in
awe of the perfection he found beneath him.  He traced a bruise on
her rounded hip and an appendectomy scar glistening white and puckered
there on her skin; she trembled as he let his mouth follow the path
of his fingers.  Badges of honor, every bruise and imperfection -
they only made her more perfect in his eyes.  He murmured a teasing,
"Lips before hands, Scully?" into her cute little navel and waited
for her breathless comeback, uttered into the scarce air between them.

"Hips, Mulder... hips."  He smiled into her navel and his retort was
roughly tender.

"Well, I've got them covered as well, baby..." Then he gave up
trying to talk and love her at the same time and concentrated on just
the loving.  There would be plenty of time for talk... lots of
minutes and hours to tell her all the secrets of his soul.  Right now
he had his own slice of heaven between his hands, and he didn't want
to waste a minute of dwelling there.

Over the delicate blades of her ribs, up the left side and curling
his tongue around the tight little nipple, Mulder tasted her with an
endless hunger.  Across the collarbones and down the right side, on a
trek to nirvana - affording her other nipple the same attention, as
Scully shivered and moaned beneath his mouth and tongue.  His hands
were never idle; caressing and stroking every inch of her as his
mouth roamed in a random pattern over her skin, around and down, down
toward the place where she would taste the sweetest.  

And he needed more than anything, to taste her there; to know her in
the same way she'd just learned of him... but he wanted to be sure
she was ready for this sort of intimacy.  Though she'd taken the
first step toward oral gratification, it just seemed different for a
woman, somehow - that she would release that last sacred part of
herself to someone else.  It was silly - he knew it. But he was just
insecure enough to need that last assurance from her.  He lifted his
head and caught her glistening eyes; moved up her body, enough to
meet her, face to face.  His voice came out in a broken rasp.

"Scully - are you... okay... with this?"  Her smile was sweetly
loving and her words went a long way toward giving him that
reassurance he needed.

*************

"I've wanted this for so long," she told him in a tremulous whisper.
"But I'm a little scared."

Mulder smoothed the hair from her forehead.  "Of what?" he asked
tenderly.  She slid her hand down his back and curved her fingers
over a bare cheek.  

"I want this to be perfect," she admitted.  He smiled in relief and
kissed the tip of her nose.

"It will be," he assured her.  "It's just you and me - and anything
we do together will be perfect," he promised.  Scully smiled shakily.

"I know," she whispered.  She sighed happily when his mouth settled
over hers.  Her hands clenched in his hair as he moaned and slipped
his tongue into her mouth.  His lips molded lightly to hers, rubbing
over her mouth teasingly and she gripped his hair tighter as she
sealed her mouth over his, deepening the kiss, her lips moving
hungrily against his.  He moaned again and broke away.

"Slow down," he whispered as his mouth played over hers, pressing
feathery kisses at each corner and tracing his tongue over the
outline of her mouth.  His mouth slid over hers, always moving,
always teasing. 

"More," she moaned against his lips.

"Patience," he chided as he buried his mouth against her throat. 
Scully gasped and arched her neck as his tongue curled into the
hollow at the base of her throat.  He opened his mouth wider and
pressed against her frantically beating pulse.

Lifting his head, he ran his hand from her throat down to her
breasts.  Cupping one soft mound in his hand, he lowered his mouth
and encircled the aching tip between his lips, taking another long
drink of her.  Scully cried out brokenly as he drew strongly on her
nipple then smoothed the softest of kisses to the hardened flesh. 
She lifted her head and bit down on his shoulder; Mulder jumping a
little at the feel of her sharp little teeth sinking into his skin. 
She pulled his face down to hers, her teeth nibbling his lush lower
lip, then rolled onto her side, rubbing her knuckles over the
quivering muscles of his stomach.  Mulder traced his fingers over the
silken curve of her hip; wrapping them around the back of her knee,
he lifted her leg over his thigh.  He slipped one hand between her
legs, his fingers delving into her moist heat.

"Oh," she gasped and her breath came in tiny pants.  Mulder tunneled
his other hand into her tangled hair and his lips grazed over the
tiny dimple on one side of her mouth.

"You look so beautiful like this... so beautiful."  His voice was
hushed and reverent as his eyes roamed over her face, memorizing the
flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes and swollen lips of his lover.

****************

On her side against the pillows with her hair all wild and curling
around his fingers, Scully was a vision of desire and sensuous
womanly beauty.  And she was his... Mulder felt like the most
fortunate man in the world.  And her smile told him more than any
single word, as she lay in his arms and opened herself to him.  He
ran a hand down her side and his body slid alongside hers, keeping
her leg propped against his shoulder; in this position she was fully
revealed to him and the soft, wet pink perfection he saw there was
his undoing.  He couldn't wait... he couldn't stop.  He had to have
the tiny button of nerves he spied hidden in her soft auburn curls.  

Mulder leaned into her and breathed deeply of the wondrous scent of
her - the pure clean scent of an aroused woman.  That it was Scully;
at last it was she who lay there exposed to him and radiating this
much scented heat... almost too much to assimilate.  He buried his
mouth into the silk he found there and registered her breathless cry
mere seconds before all his cognizant senses shut down and his world
became one vital focus, of loving her.

She tasted like everything good and true; of all he'd ever needed in
his life and had up to this moment been denied.  He ran a careful
tongue around the swollen folds and let it flick against her tight
little clit; with each movement of the tip she shuddered and her hips
rocked into his face.  He could feel her fingers clenching and
unclenching in his hair; it should have hurt but her fingers were
gentle even in the throes of her desire.  Mulder smiled and hummed
his pleasure into her skin and she moaned and thrust herself more
fully against him.

He could have gone on this way forever; adoring the taste and the
feel of her as he rubbed his tongue over her flesh and probed deeply
into the narrow cling of her... but he wanted it all, this first
time.  Wanted the first flush of her climax to pull at his throbbing
flesh and not just at his mouth, although that would surely be as
amazing.  That could wait a bit; it was more necessary for their
first release to be as together as possible.  With regret, Mulder
pressed one last deep kiss into her and slipped up her body until he
again had her positioned with her leg flung over his hip and aligned
face to face and center to aching center.  He looked into her heavy-
lidded eyes, and gasped at the look of her on his pillow.

Jesus... she took his breath away.  He cupped her face and silently
worshipped.

**************

Scully turned her face into the hand that was cupping her cheek and
pressed an open-mouthed kiss into its center.  Still breathless with
the enormity of what he'd made her feel just a few seconds ago, she
skimmed the point of her tongue over the palm of his hand and wrapped
her lips around his forefinger, drawing it deep into her warm, wet
mouth.  Her eyes were hooded with desire as she slid his finger from
her mouth, biting down on the tip and then laving it with her tongue.
Keeping her leg twined firmly around his hips, she wrapped one small,
strong hand around his neck and rolled onto her back, pulling him
over her body, locking her ankles around his back.  Her entire body
was thrumming with need - she could not wait another second.

She didn't need to wait; between them his flesh was hard and burning
with heat and need - it was time.

Her smile was feline as she arched sinuously beneath him, her hand
reaching between their bodies, guiding him to her wet, aching flesh. 
"Now," she whispered.  "Please."  Mulder groaned, and nodding, he
sank several inches into her body.  She uttered a low cry and arched
her hips, causing him to slip even deeper within her.  Mulder slid
his arms under her, his hands cupping the back of her head as he
drove all the way within.  

"Oh, God..." he groaned against her temple.  Scully unlocked her
ankles and slid her legs down his thighs, curling the soles of her
feet around the backs of his calves.  She clenched her inner muscles
tightly about him, when he would have withdrawn.

"No," she whispered brokenly.  "Don't move... not yet."  Her tongue
darted out to moisten her lips and Mulder swooped down, crushing her
lips with his own.  His mouth moved hungrily over hers and he pulled
his hips back slowly, so slowly until he almost slipped out of her,
then he pushed forward until he was fully embedded in her clinging
warmth.  He began stroking her smoothly, in and out; she wrapped her
arms around his neck, pulling him down to her.  Her lips clung to his
and she stared into his eyes as her hips met every thrust of his
body.  

The feeling was incredible; how could she have survived all these
years without experiencing this?  Mulder, inside her - inside where
she had needed him to be.  Inside her heart, her very soul... feeding
her bites of heaven and sustaining her when she needed that
sustenance the most.  The waiting they had both inflicted upon
themselves... what a waste.  Never again, she vowed.  Not a second
more would they throw away.

************

He was in Heaven; had died and gone to Heaven.  He used to think
that trite phrase was stupid in the extreme, but not anymore. 
Nothing had ever felt this good... nothing.  Her body fit his
perfectly; her skin slid against his in the most delicious feeling of
friction, as they rose and fell together.  Together... at last,
together.  

Why the hell had they waited so long?  All this time, they could
have had this...

Then again - perhaps they wouldn't have appreciated it half as much
had they begun a relationship years ago when they were both too
selfish to partake and share of themselves.  No this was right...
this was good.  In the same place at the same time and cherishing
every movement, every small moan and gasping cry... this was perfect.
He breathed it into her mouth as he pulled her hips up more tightly
against him and felt himself taken even deeper.

"Perfect..." She echoed those words right back to him.  She was
moving fiercely against him, a small explosion of breath forced from
her lungs with every thrust he took.  He never thought about the
difference in their size, that he might hurt or overwhelm her.  He
never worried about crushing her petite frame underneath his driving
body; Scully gave as good as she got.  Tight and wet and hot...
deeper and deeper until it was impossible to find the ending of him
and the beginning of her... so right... he wanted it to last forever.

He knew it couldn't last much longer... it was too good.  In his
experience the good things of life didn't last very long...

***************

She shivered when Mulder swore softly by her ear as he fought back
his climax and she planted her feet onto the mattress as she bucked
up into his driving hips.  His name broke over her lips on a sob when
he slid his hand between their bodies, dipping his fingers into her
slippery folds.  He touched just the right spot and her legs trembled
as her orgasm bore down on her; she buried her mouth against his
throat, muffling her cry as her body convulsed.  

Mulder braced himself on his elbows and dropped his head onto her
shoulder. His breathing was ragged as he pounded his body into hers. 
So close... he wasn't ready for it to end but he was on the edge; had
been on the edge almost before they'd begun.  He bowed his back over
her, pumping his hips against hers - feeling it come up fast and
unstoppable. Groaning, he pulsed against her welcoming flesh,
emptying himself within her.  One last shudder and he was sinking
bonelessly down into her cushioning embrace.  

Home... at last, home.

Scully wrapped her arms and legs around his quivering body as he
sank down atop her, crushing her into the crumpled sheets.  Her hands
stroked through his sweaty hair as she whispered words of love
against his temple.  Her lips sought his in a tender kiss as their
racing hearts slowed.  Her lover, finally.  Those words had never
sounded sweeter than when she whispered them into his ear and heard
his answering sigh of contentment.  He leaned back a little and
looked down into her eyes with love shining from his own.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he scraped damp tendrils of hair
from her cheeks.  Scully smiled and nodded, fighting back reactionary
tears.

"I feel so good," she told him.  His smile was so adorable; Scully
couldn't resist one last kiss.  Mulder's lips curled against hers as
he slipped from her body, sighing with resignation.  He'd wanted
nothing more than to remain inside her forever... or all night,
whichever would come first.  

Scully rolled onto her side, drawing one of his arms around her and
resting her cheek on the inside curve of his other arm.  Mulder's
hand curled possessively around her breast and he buried his face
against the silken skin of her back.  Scully felt, more than heard,
his whispered 'I love you' against her skin.  Snuggling her hips
against him, she tumbled into sleep.

*****************

In the watery early-morning light the room was silent and cool -
they'd forgotten to turn off the air conditioner.  Mulder turned and
flopped onto his back, still in that netherworld of waking yet
dreaming.  Next to him Scully still slept deeply, her fingers twined
through his and a shapely leg pinning him down.  Slowly his eyes
opened; he yawned and stretched, careful not to disturb her.  Mulder
turned his head and watched his Scully sleeping.  He'd done this
before but this morning it felt different to watch... he felt
different.  And it went so far beyond sexual satisfaction...

Because for once in his entire sorry life Mulder felt loved -
completely, thoroughly loved.  If he died five minutes from now he'd
die a happy man, with his only regret being the wish that they'd had
forever to love like this.  He'd lost everyone he'd ever cared about,
yet in one amazing night Dana Scully had restored to him all he'd
lost.  Every tear he'd shed for his mother and father, his sister...
all redeemed and given back to him.  Every disrespectful utterance
against him and his reputation... restored.  All his immediate
worries, current fears and anxieties for the future... all had been
drained from him mere hours ago.  And yes, these problems would come
back a hundredfold... but for now Mulder was saturated with Scully
and life was very, very good.

Kissing her face gently, he slid carefully from the bed, taking care
not to wake her.  It was still very early and they did not need to be
up for at least another hour.  Padding naked to the desk, Mulder
flipped open his laptop and booted up, preparing to check his email
one last time before they hit the road.  He brought up his mail
server; he had three messages.  The first one was from Frohike,
wishing them a safe and speedy trip and promising to follow as soon
as they felt they could no longer be of service in DC.  Mulder smiled
as he deleted the message; they would all miss the guys.

The second message was from his investment broker - his monthly
financial report.  Mulder scanned the two-page report, noting it had
returned a healthy little dividend.  He sighed, knowing he had to try
getting the rest of it out this morning before they left town.  He'd
removed a goodly portion yesterday but since he hadn't wanted to
appear too suspicious he'd gone easy on the withdrawal.  

The third email made him sit up at attention.  He sucked in a sharp
breath as he read:

'Agent Mulder: Do not enter Canada by way of Niagara Falls.  Do not
enter Canada at any border except North Dakota.  When you arrive
there, you, Agent Scully and Assistant Director Skinner must not be
seen.  People are looking for you.  You must find any possible way to
become invisible to the border patrol. Agent Scully's brother and his
family must appear to be the average American family driving into
Canada on vacation.

'Do not consume meat, Agent Mulder.  Stay clear of any and all meat
products, either fresh or canned/frozen.  Do not consume corn
products - any variation of those products.  I cannot go into detail
at this time - just heed my warnings.

'It is not important for you to understand how I know what you are
about to accomplish today - let's just accept that I know.  You will
transact necessary business at your financial institution. When
you finish your business you will enter the men's room on the first
floor and go to the third stall.  Taped behind the tank is a safe-
deposit key.  The key will open safe number thirty-four, and inside
that safe you find there are two packets of identification.  Mr.
Scully and his family should use them when approaching the two
borders you must cross.

'I know you are an intelligent man, Mr. Mulder - which means I know
approximately where you may try to settle.  You will succeed if you
go there - you will be safe.  You and Agent Scully must remain safe
at all costs.  You are the future.

'Remember:  you will always have a friend at the FBI, even though
the world as we know it may dissipate before our eyes.

'Never stop seeking your truth.'

Mulder re-read the email three times, then sat back in his chair and
expelled the breath he'd been holding.  A friend... the same friend
who planted old microfiche at Georgetown Library, perhaps?  Who made
it blatantly easy for them to discover the truth about the alien
colonization in the first place?  

A friend who wanted them alive and safe and moving across the US
border in a no doubt obscure area of North Dakota, intelligent and
intuitive enough to understand they had to move to Alaska to survive
and even second-guessing which of them would be making the trip. 
Maybe a friend worth listening to, worth keeping - maybe not.  Mulder
sighed and rubbed his eyes; he didn't know what to think.  

Two warm hands curved around his neck, causing him to jump a little.
In his deep contemplation he hadn't even heard Scully walk into the
room.  She leaned over his shoulder and pressed a string of light
kisses across his cheek then caught his mouth in a deeper caress. 
Mulder slid a hand into her hair and held her head close as he
enjoyed the leisurely kiss, refusing to think of anything beyond the
sweetness of early-morning kisses from the woman he loved.

Scully released his mouth and came around his chair, insinuating
herself between the desk and him, straddling his lap and gazing down
into his eyes with mischievous baby blues; then she put her mouth
close to his ear and her whisper tickled his lobe.

"Am I to presume that I'm playing second fiddle to your laptop,
Agent Mulder?  What's it got that I don't, hmmm?  More memory?  More
powerful gigabytes?  A keyboard that won't quit?"  Her silly banter
made Mulder smile and he wound his arms around her bare waist and
nuzzled that smile between her soft breasts.

"My keyboard can't hold a candle to you, Scully... its shift keys
are way too small."  He pressed an open-mouthed kiss on each of her
little pink nipples, licking at the tender points gently and loving
the way her sighs filled all the needful places in his heart.  He
held her very close and kissed her good morning everywhere he could
reach, then determinably set her away, turning her around on his lap
until she faced the laptop screen.  Tapping a finger on the screen,
he instructed, "Read that - and tell me what you think."

Scully did exactly as he'd done; she read it several times before
saying a word.  Turning back around, she regarded Mulder with worried
eyes.  "Mulder, this person knows a lot about us and our plans.  He
knows Bill and Tara and the kids are with us.  He probably also knows
we've contacted the Gunmen and have stocked up on supplies, for God's
sake!  Do you think he's watching us?"  Scully was very uneasy. 
Mulder rubbed his hands up and down her back as he thought about what
this sort of knowledge might mean for them.

"I don't know, baby.  This could be another situation like X or Deep
Throat - we have talked about the possibility before.  Whatever it
is, there's nothing we can do.  We're leaving today.  We have to go
to the bank one more time and clear out as much from my savings as we
can without arousing too much suspicion."  

"Are you going to do as the email instructs?  Check out the safe and
use these ID packets?"  Scully looked at him curiously, still
snuggled in Mulder's lap.  He nodded slowly, stroking her back.

"Yes, I might as well.  If I'm being watched then so be it.  I'm not
letting anything stop us from leaving today - but I'm not throwing
away any possible help, either."  Mulder stood up with Scully still
straddling him; she gasped and flung her arms around his neck and
hung on as he carried her back into the bedroom.  Sinking down upon
the bed, he steadied her atop him and kept himself pressed between
her thighs, wiggling his brows suggestively at her when she pretended
to frown disapprovingly down at him as she balanced her hands against
his chest.

"So, Mulder - whatcha got on... your mind?"  He chuckled and his
hands cupped around her saucy little bottom, feeling her open
softness and her silky curls caressing his rapidly growing erection. 
He made one tiny adjustment and lifted her up, then brought her down
over him and felt himself slip deep.  He groaned softly in tandem
with her gasp of rekindled desire; he sat up a little and wound his
arms around her waist and buried his face against her breasts as she
held onto his shoulders and began to rock upon him.   Gently...
slowly... rocking easy and taking him to a hot, dark place where he
never wanted to leave.  

Soft, the movements they made against each other; it was early in
the morning and they had another hour to be alone and in love -
making love - before their day would truly begin.  Before they would
buckle themselves into a large vehicle loaded with supplies and begin
a trip into the unknown.  

They had an hour, and they took full advantage of it, using every
precious minute of their time together - cementing their commitment,
and celebrating their joined life.  They kissed endlessly and held on
to each other - and when they climaxed they both cried out softly and
shuddered; gripping tightly and letting the moment spool out until
there was nothing left but cooling flesh and wildly beating hearts - 

And all the love in the world.

*********************

~ Chapter Thirteen ~


Later they would look back on the first days of their journey and
think how easy they'd had it, though at the time it was, in their
opinion - rough.

Five adults and two young children all confined to a fairly large
vehicle cabin, yet not seeming large at all when hours upon boring
hours of sitting still were slogging by.  Meggie was fussy and cried
easily; teething problems, mostly.  Everyone took turns holding her,
distracting her or comforting her.  Oddly enough she was most content
with Skinner... who'd been as flummoxed as her mommy and daddy when
it seemed that no one but the big tough Ex-Marine could make the
dainty little girl happy.  The first time Skinner held her awkwardly
on his lap, Meggie had twisted around in his grip, tears of self-pity
still rolling down her chubby little cheeks - and her hand came into
abrupt and determined contact with his glasses.  Miraculously her
tears had stopped and her gleeful chortles echoed around the interior
of the Ford as she tore them from his surprised face and waved them
about for all to see, a new plaything/trophy to be admired.  Mulder
had to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from
laughing out loud.

From then on Meggie would demand to be the center of Skinner's
attention - and after a few shaky lap-holding sessions and a horror-
filled episode with a soiled diaper, Skinner welcomed the little girl
with open arms.  It kept him busy when he wasn't slated to drive, as
all the adults were taking a turn at the wheel - and it left him with
a good excuse to not have the pressure of holding a conversation with
whomever happened to be sharing the seat next to him.  It wasn't that
Skinner didn't care for the social aspects of traveling - far from
it.  These people were rapidly becoming vital to him; they were his
new and final 'family'.  But sometimes it was nice to relate on
nothing more strenuous a level than an eighteen-month old child. 
Skinner was falling in love with Meggie Scully, and the feeling was
mutual.

Scully thought it was sweet and tended to get all misty-eyed over
the newly formed connection between her niece and her ex-AD.  That
first long day, she and Tara regularly got sniffly over the sight of
Meggie snuggled on Skinner's lap, tiny fingers playing with his much-
larger ones while he hummed to her in a rich baritone.  Sometimes
Matty could be found in the curve of his arm as well, a tiny bit
jealous of the attention his baby sister was getting even though the
sheer size of Skinner still intimidated him.  Not so with Mulder,
however... whom Matty promptly adopted the moment he realized that
Mulder could roll his tongue.

Mulder had been at his wits' end by the end of the first day,
sitting in the front passenger seat while Bill drove.  Tara and
Scully were asleep in the back and Skinner was in the far back seat
bonding with Meggie as usual. How in hell he was going to keep this
enchanting yet wildly energetic child busy?  Matty sat on Mulder's
lap and bounced up and down all over his poor knees; the kid was tall
for his age and built like his daddy.  Mulder had run out of goofy
things to say, snatches of equally-goofy songs, and recitations of
remembered rhymes and such - and when Matty rubbed his little bottom
on Mulder's kneecaps for about the fifth time, Mulder decided
something had to be done to distract the excited child.

"Hey, Matty - watch this!"  The little boy eagerly turned around on
Mulder's lap, rubbing his left knee again.  Mulder gritted his teeth
into a semblance of a smile and frantically tried to think of
something he could do that he hadn't already done, in the name of kid-
entertainment.  Then he remembered one of his odder abilities, and
opened his mouth and rolled his tongue.  Matty was fascinated and
impressed, especially when several attempts to mimic Mulder revealed
he could not roll his tongue at all.  

The next half hour was spent with Matty cuddled in Mulder's arms,
giggling every time Mulder rolled his tongue and performed any number
of silly acts with it, from trying to talk through the little circle
of flesh, to attempting to touch his nose with it rolled up.  After a
while Mulder found himself laughing so hard he couldn't make his
tongue cooperate any longer, but that was fine - because by then
Matty had fallen asleep with his little cheek pressed onto Mulder's
neck.  Over the child's unruly curls Bill's eyes met Mulder's, and he
smiled.

"You'd make a good father, Mulder... and somehow that doesn't
surprise me nearly as much as I thought it would.  You want kids
someday?"  As soon as the words left Bill's mouth his face fell, no
doubt remembering that his sister couldn't have children, and also
realizing that Scully's children were the only ones Mulder could ever
want.  He opened his mouth to apologize, but Mulder waved it away
with a tired smile.

"Hey, don't even worry about it.  S'okay, really.  Yeah, I'd like
children someday.  So would Scully, very much.  And we haven't
exactly talked about it lately, what with alien colonization waltzing
through the known world." His grin was infectious and Bill responded
with a relieved one of his own as Mulder continued. "But I am
thinking that somewhere around here, where we're headed, there may be
children needing a mommy and a daddy.  Maybe several sets of both.  I
figure Scully and I will have our chance to be parents, one way or
another."  

He smiled again and laid his cheek against Matty's soft hair and the
child sighed in his sleep and snuggled closer.  Mulder tightened his
arms around Matty and settled himself a bit more comfortably in the
seat.  He glanced into the rear view mirror he got an eyeful of two
very sweet sights... the dual teary-eyed smiles of Tara and Scully,
who'd caught most of the conversation and were suitably blubbery over
it - and Skinner in the far back seat asleep with his head leaning
back on the head rest and Meggie's little face nestled in his neck. 
Mulder turned in his seat and air-kissed both Scully and Tara, who
sighed and cried harder - then he faced front again and stared idly
out the window, thinking about nothing more strenuous than the
strange satisfaction of being fully accepted by Bill Scully.

He found that he liked it.

**************

Seventy five miles north of Indianapolis they stopped for the night.
It had been Skinner's hope to travel further but the kids were
impossible to manage any longer and Tara was at her wit's end trying
to find a way to keep them calm and happy.  Mulder had wanted to
drive through the night but as inexperienced as he was with children
he could still see that Matty and Meggie were overtired and under-
exercised.  

It was very late and they were miles away from an exit with motels,
so it was decided to just sleep in the car; they'd found a well-lit
rest stop with full bathroom facilities.  With both front bucket
seats fully reclined and the far back seat also reclining, it worked
out better than expected.  Mulder and Scully volunteered to sleep in
the front seats and Skinner offered to take both children with him in
the middle seat, affording Bill and Tara much-needed room to stretch
out in the reclining rear seat.  

They took the kids for a long walk, keeping on the access road in
front of the bathroom where it was bright as day.  Mulder and Skinner
ran Matty ragged with a Nerf football while Scully and Tara walked a
giggling Meggie between them and Bill stood guard watching for bees. 
As late at night as it was the chances of bee activity was thankfully
slim.

In a quiet, reassuring voice Mulder had explained to Bill and Tara
about the problems they would have with eating meat and foods
containing corn and corn by-products.  Tara had been understandably
confused and Bill had looked worried as Mulder told them of the email
he'd received from their unknown 'friend'.

"The contact that arranged your IDs - he warned me about the dangers
of eating any sort of meat, and anything processed with corn.  I'm
afraid meat is out - all meat.  Probably because almost all meat is
grain-fed... or corn-fed. We'll have to be very, very careful."  Bill
frowned at Mulder and Scully.  

"I don't understand.  Corn?  I thought the threat came just from
infection from the bees."  Tara nodded in agreement, and Scully
hastened to explain.

"The bees are the main source of infection.  But the corn crops were
intended to be a way to mass-spread the virus - Mulder and I could
never quite figure out how.  We are still not a hundred percent sure,
but what we decided generated the warning we got from Mulder's
contact.  If the corn has been processed for use, either as food for
livestock or into various foodstuffs demanding corn - or corn oil -
then we must assume eating these products will infect us. And we
can't be sure that standard food processing using heat will kill the
virus living in these foodstuffs.  Therefore we avoid meat and
anything corn-related."  Bill sighed and nodded, then squeezed Tara's
hand.

"Well, luckily I can live without meat; looks like we don't have
much of a choice.  I think we'll be fine and I doubt we'll starve." 
Tara nodded and some of the worry eased from her face as she leaned
into her husband's embrace and let him cuddle her.  Mulder nodded and
swung Matty into his arms, tossing the sturdy little boy into the air
and delighting in the shrieks of childish glee as he was alternately
tossed and tickled.  It helped them all to forget their troubles for
a little bit, and pretend they were on nothing more complicated than
just another camping trip.

Later, they ate apples, cheese and crackers for dinner.  They drank
a lot of water, used the rest rooms and prepared to settle in for
the night. Locking the doors behind them... adjusting seats and
pulling out blankets, finding articles of clothing to use
as makeshift pillows - it didn't take them long to get the kids to
sleep, one child nestled in each of Skinner's strong arms.  Within
minutes both yawning children had conked out and Skinner wasn't far
behind them, growling out a rusty goodnight and rocking the cab a bit
as he adjusted himself and the children on the wide seat.

In the front, Mulder reclined in the drivers' seat and glanced over
at Scully as she struggled to bunch up one of his sweaters into an
acceptable pillow.  In the combined moonlight and security lights her
tired face was just visible enough for him to see the yawn she
stifled with the back of her hand as she finally got the sweater
wedged comfortably under her head.  She caught him staring at her and
reached out a hand to run lightly over his face.

"Whatcha thinking about, Mulder?"  He smiled against her fingers and
his voice was a mere whisper of low sound in the quiet cab.

"How gorgeous you are."  She snorted softly and tweaked his nose
playfully.

"Oh, yeah, Mulder - I'm a raving beauty queen.  Not a lick of makeup
to be found on my face, red-rimmed eyes, I'd bet - wrinkled and baggy
clothes with kid-finger-shaped grub stains all over them... my
deodorant quit sometime around Cincinnati and what hair on my head
that isn't sticking straight up is a tangled, matted mess.  I'm so
lovely to behold it's sickening."  Her deprecating remarks brought a
tender smile to Mulder's lips as he gazed at the love of his life and
wished like hell they were alone so he could show her just how
delectable she really was.  He settled for placing his hand in a warm
cup over the buttoned fly of her jeans, and letting the feeling flow
through him from his heart to his fingertips.  Scully squirmed a bit
under his touch and her eyes glittered in the moonlight as she turned
to face him, careful not to disturb his hand.  Her voice puffed out
in a little sigh.

"Mmm, that feels so good.  I miss your hands, Mulder.  I think about
them - and I think about your mouth.  I miss your mouth, too..." Her
voice trailed off at his harsh intake of breath as Mulder soaked in
her tender words.

"God, Scully..." His whisper was almost non-existent in the silent
cab but the words vibrated between them.  "I want you so badly I'm
going crazy over here.  I'm not gonna be able to get any sleep at all
tonight with you so near and me unable to do anything about it..." 
His fingers stroked restlessly over her denim-covered center, toying
with the metal buttons; managing to get one unfastened before her
hands pressed into him and stilled his hands, her voice squeaking out
in a hushed echo of shock.

"Mulder, we can't!  Not here, Jesus... I want to, so much... but we
can't!"  Mulder grinned at the panicked tone, thinking he'd like
nothing better than to quietly drive her out of her mind - deciding
to do just that.  Scully was so tired - overtired, in fact.  She
needed some sort of release - and there had to be a silent way to do
it.  And at that moment his needs were ignored completely as he set
about a bit of noiseless seduction.  He leaned into Scully's seat
space and kissed her mouth hungrily, keeping his hand pressed down
into her and beginning to work the rest of her buttons. 

Scully moaned soundlessly into his mouth, giving up all hope of
stopping him.  Her tongue swirled around his in a fury of need as
Mulder upped the urgency of the kiss and his fingers unbuttoned the
rest of her, then slid inside and dipped underneath the lacy edge of
elastic.  Finding her damp heat with unerring fingers... curling an
index digit within the soft flesh and swallowing the gasp she sent
down along his tonsils.  Mulder kept his mouth locked to hers as he
gently probed and stroked, building the embers slowly and carefully
as she shivered against him and hung onto his shoulders.  One final
hard press of his finger against her swollen clit and Scully
shuddered and bit his lip hard as she climaxed; Mulder held her and
kissed every shiver and every moan, until she was limp in his arms
and her breathing returned to normal.  She lay her head against the
seat and stared up into his face with damp eyes.  Her shaky voice was
a thread of sound between them.

"Oh, God, Mulder... I can't find the words..."  He kissed her soft
lips and smiled at her tenderly when he pulled back to look into her
beautiful face.

"Shhh... it's okay, Scully.  I know how you feel.  I'm glad you
liked it... glad I could make you feel good, baby.  Do you think you
can sleep now?"  She nodded and yawned, leaning back fully in her
seat.

"Mmm, yes... I'll sleep wonderfully.  But what about you?  Mulder...
I can't leave you in this condition..." Her hand slid over him
gently, probing along his aching ridged flesh underneath the fly of
his jeans.  Mulder pressed her hand hard into his erection and
stifled a groan at the exquisite feeling.  He shook his head
regretfully when she would have unbuttoned him.

"No, baby - can't.  Too messy.  You know we can't... and I'll be all
right, I promise.  Rain check, 'kay?  You'll owe me.  Just keep your
hand there - feels good.  Just hold me tonight - just like that." 
And she nodded and reached over to kiss him goodnight and she turned
toward him in her seat and kept a hand over him, fingers gripping him
along his hard length.  Warmed by her hand and the soft breaths she
released into the small curve of air between them as she dozed off,
Mulder finally followed suit - and slept.

************

They spent another mind-numbing and ass-numbing day in the truck. 
The first day had taught them that asking the children to cope with
more than ten hours a day on the road was more than could rationally
be expected of them.  They were six hours into the second day of the
trip and were traveling down a section of highway that wound past a
suburb of Chicago when Skinner flipped on the turn signal, pulling
into the exit lane.  Scully had been dozing in the passenger seat and
she lifted her head to look questioningly at her ex-boss.

"Do we need gas?" she asked, stifling a yawn behind her hand and
glancing at the gas gauge.  Skinner shook his head.

"No. I saw a sign for a shopping mall about three miles from this
exit," he told her.  "We need to get out of the truck for a little
while and stretch our legs.  But I don't want to be outdoors for any
length of time," he said significantly.  "Besides, I'm already sick
of fruit and cheese and granola bars," he chuffed.  "Does anyone else
want a pizza?" he asked, looking up into the rearview mirror.

"Pizza," Bill moaned.  "Yes.  Let's definitely stop for pizza."  

Mulder's eyes rounded with interest at the mention of pizza, but he
looked worriedly at the map spread out over his lap.  Scully turned
in her seat and called for his attention.

"We'll still make it to the Canadian border on Thursday," she told
him.  "But I think it would do us all some good to get out of the
truck for a little while."  Mulder nodded and folded the map. 
Leaning close to Meggie, he touched the tip of his finger to her tiny
nose.

"Whaddya think Meggie - do you want some pizza?" he asked playfully.

"Peetz!" the baby shouted, clapping her hands.  Mulder looked up at
the others and smiled.

"I guess we're stopping for pizza," he told them.

They spent two hours in the mall eating pizza and stretching their
legs.  They used the bathrooms and let the kids run around a bit. 
With their bellies full, both children were drooping and had to be
carried back to the truck.  The children slept heavily for almost two
hours and they pressed on, driving another four hours before they
stopped for the night.  No one was anxious to repeat the night spent
sleeping in the truck and they stopped at a motel.  The place was
clean looking but small and they were only able to get two rooms for
the night.  Skinner shared a room with Mulder and Scully.  Some part
of Scully knew she should be uncomfortable sharing a room with her ex-
boss but she was too tired to care.  Stepping out of the bathroom
modestly clad in a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, she climbed into
bed.  In the dark she pressed a chaste kiss to Mulder's lips before
curling up and promptly falling asleep.

********

"What's taking so long?" Skinner asked early the next evening,
tapping the steering wheel impatiently.  Tara laughed.

"Everything takes twice as long as it should where Matthew is
involved.  Haven't you learned that yet?"  She looked out of the
window.  "Here they come now."

Scully glanced idly out of the window watching Mulder and Matthew
walking across the grass.  They had made an emergency stop at a small
picnic area along Rte. 94 approximately forty miles outside of Fargo
when Matty announced that he 'had to gooooo!'.  Mulder was holding
Matty's hand and was trying to herd him back to the truck as the
little boy danced around him.  Scully smiled fondly as Mulder bent at
the waist to bring his eyes level with the child's.  He said
something to Matty and Scully saw his teeth flash in a wide grin.

She frowned when Mulder's head jerked up.  Suddenly, he pushed
Matthew onto the grass and threw himself on top of the boy.  And
that's when Scully and the others saw it.  Bees - at least twenty-
five of them - swarming around Mulder and Matty.

"Matthew!" Tara screamed as she reached for the door handle.  Scully
grabbed her and pulled her back.  

"Tara, don't!" she cried.  Tara's head whipped around.

"That's Matty," she shrieked, pointing toward the window.  "And
Mulder!  Jesus, Dana, maybe you can sit there and do nothing, but I
have to get to my baby!"

Scully flinched at Tara's harsh words but continued to hold fast to
the other woman's arm.  

"Tara, we can't."  She inclined her head toward the back of the
truck.  "Meggie," she reminded her.  Tara's eyes closed in defeat and
Scully loosened her grip, turning to Skinner who was staring out the
window in horror, his big hands gripping the steering wheel.

"Walter, let's try to get as close to them as possible," she said in
a low, urgent voice.  Skinner nodded and started the engine, driving
the big vehicle over the curb and up onto the grass, pulling as close
to Mulder and Matty as he could.  Scully's mind raced as she tried to
figure out the best way to pull Mulder and Matthew into the truck
without allowing the bees in as well.

"Bill," she called.  Her brother rose from the back seat where he
had been holding a squalling Meggie.  He buckled the baby into her
car seat.

"Tara," Scully turned toward her sister-in-law.  "Get behind the
wheel," she said.  "As soon as we pull them into the truck, you get
us the hell out of here!"

Tara nodded jerkily and crawled into the driver's seat that Skinner
had just vacated.  She wrapped white-knuckled fingers around the
steering wheel.  The two men crouched near the passenger door with
Scully.

"What's the plan?" Bill asked.  Scully shook her head.

"I don't know."  She firmly tamped down on the panic that threatened
to overwhelm her.  "Whatever we do, we need to do it fast."  She
looked around the truck.  "Bill, grab two of the blankets from the
back," she instructed.  Scully looked up at the two men.  "What if we
drape one blanket over the open door?  Mulder can climb up under the
blanket and hopefully, the bees won't be fast enough to follow him."

Skinner and Bill looked at each other and shrugged.  

"I can't think of a better idea," Skinner admitted and Bill handed
the blankets up to them, scrambling back into place.  Scully grabbed
the end of one blanket and set the other one by her feet.

"Walter and I will hold the blanket in place," she said.  "Bill,
when Mulder starts to climb up, you pull them in."  Bill nodded and
wiped his sweating palms along the sides of his jeans.  Skinner took
the other end of the blanket and nodded to Scully.  She reached
behind the blanket and threw the door open.

"Mulder!" she called, kicking the second blanket out of the truck. 
"Hurry!"

Mulder cautiously eased his body off Matthew's and grabbed for the
blanket lying on the grass near him, throwing it over the frightened
child.  Bundling him into its protective folds, he pushed the little
boy under the blanket covering the open door.  As soon as he felt
Matty being pulled safely into the truck, he scrambled in behind
him.  

Tara was pulling away, tires squealing even as Scully was pulling
the door shut.  Skinner checked the interior of the truck to be sure
that none of the bees had slipped under the blanket, while Scully and
Bill frantically checked Mulder and Matty for stings.

"Were you stung?  Matty?  Tell Daddy, did a bee sting you?"  Bill
asked as he pulled the boy's clothes aside, looking for any sign that
he had been stung.  Scully was frantically doing the same to Mulder
and her eyes met his fearfully.

"Oh God," she breathed.  "Mulder..."  Her fingers swept gently over
his right arm.

"Don't touch them, Scully!" he cried as he jerked his arm out of her
grasp.  Everyone looked at Mulder in alarm as he reached for one of
several stingers still embedded in his flesh.

"Stop!"  Scully grabbed his wrist in her hand.  Mulder looked up at
her fierce tone.  "Stop," she said again, softer this time.  "Don't
pull at the stinger," she told him.  "It holds the venom and you'll
re-sting yourself." She snatched up a paper cup and used the plastic
lid to gently scrape the stinger out of Mulder's skin.  Cracking open
the window, she flung it out of the truck.

She turned back and reached for him again.  "How do you feel,
Mulder?" she asked.  "Any chest pains or trouble breathing?"  She
tried to remember the symptoms she had experienced after her own
encounter with an infected bee.

"Maybe it wasn't an infected swarm?" Tara asked, glancing into the
rearview mirror with frightened eyes.  Mulder looked up at Scully and
shook his head.

"Guess we're going to find out whether or not I'm immune, huh?" he
said wryly.  Scully grimaced.  Again her mind raced as she tried to
figure out what their next step should be.  "Mulder, I need you to
tell me how you're feeling," she said.

"I have a little bit of a headache," he admitted.  "And I feel hot
and achy like I have the flu."  Scully looked up.  

"Tara, I saw a sign for a motel a little while ago," she said.  "It
should be about three or four more miles up the road.  Tara pressed
down on the accelerator.  Skinner and Bill turned to Scully.

"What are you planning to do?" Bill asked.  Scully pulled Mulder's
cell phone out of his pocket and handed it to her brother.

"Mulder and I are going to get out at the next motel and get a room.
We'll wait and see if the symptoms get worse," she said with a break
in her voice.  "I want the rest of you to drive a few more miles and
find someplace to stay for the night.  Keep in touch with us.  We
should know by morning."

Bill protested.  "Do you plan to spend the night alone with him?" he
asked incredulously.  "What if Mulder is infected?  You're putting
your own life at risk!"

Mulder lifted feverish eyes to hers.  "Scully," he said, "You
can't... I won't let you."  Scully looked at him and then back up to
her brother.

"Would you leave Tara alone?" she demanded fiercely.  She swung her
gaze back to Mulder's.  "Would you leave me?"  She lifted her head
and her pleading eyes met Tara's in the rearview mirror.  "Hurry,"
she urged.

Tara nodded grimly.  Ten minutes later the tires crunched over the
graveled parking lot of the motel as Tara pulled the car up to the
office.  The parking lot was nearly deserted and Scully leapt out of
the truck to pay for a room.  Hurrying back to the car, she directed
Tara to drive to the far end of the lot and stop in front of the last
room.  She climbed into the back of the truck and grabbed several
bottles of water and a large plastic box that contained most of the
medical supplies they had purchased in Bethesda.  Skinner helped
Mulder out of the truck as Scully opened the door to their room.  She
propped her shoulder under Mulder's arm.

"We'll keep in touch," she promised her ex-boss.  "Call and let us
know where you'll be staying."

Skinner nodded and backed out of the room, pulling the door closed
behind him, a worried frown on his face.  Scully eased Mulder down
onto one of the beds and pulled his T-shirt over his head.  She
flicked open the button on his jeans and slid the zipper down,
helping him to breathe a little easier.  She grabbed an ice bucket
from the desk and disappeared into the bathroom.  She returned a
moment later and sat down on the edge of the mattress, placing the
bucket filled with warm, soapy water on the nightstand.  She dipped a
washcloth into the water and gently washed Mulder's arm.  The skin
around the bites was red and swollen.

Mulder sucked in a painful breath as the coarse washcloth abraded
his injured arm.  "I'm sorry," Scully crooned as she dropped the
washcloth into the bucket.  She took the bucket into the bathroom and
dumped the now tepid water down the sink.  "I'll be right back," she
told him as she opened the front door and slipped outside.  The sun
was setting and the night was growing cool as she hurried to fill the
bucket with ice.

Returning to the room, she set the bucket of ice onto the floor and
disappeared into the bathroom again.  She carried a plastic cup into
the bedroom and dug through the medical kit, pulling out a small box
of baking soda.  Mulder watched wearily as she tore open the box and
dumped some of the fine, white powder into the plastic cup.  She
twisted the top off one of the bottles of water and poured a small
amount of water into the cup, using her finger to mix it into a thick
paste.  She set the cup aside and rifled through the medical kit once
again.  She pulled out a bottle of aspirin and fumbled with the
childproof cap.  Finally yanking the cap from the bottle, she
grumbled in frustration as she plunged her thumb through the foil
safety seal and pulled a small wad of cotton free.  She shook two
tablets into her hand and then reached for a small box of Benadryl. 
She punched one of the over-the-counter antihistamine tablets out of
the foil packet and scooped up the bottle of water.  Scully handed
Mulder the three pills and helped him sit up, holding the bottle to
his mouth.

"The aspirin is for your headache," she told him.  "The
antihistamine helps in the event of an allergic reaction to the
stings," she said, knowing that she had nothing in her medical kit to
save him if the virus took hold.  Easing him back against the
pillows, she picked up the plastic cup she had set aside earlier and
smeared the paste over the bee stings.

"What are you doing?" Mulder wheezed.

"This won't help if you're infected," she told him honestly, "but I
remember my mother used this whenever we were stung by an insect.  It
helps take the sting and the itchiness out."

"Good thing you pack baking soda in your medical kits, Doctor," he
rasped.  "Weird, but good."  Scully concentrated on spreading the
thick paste liberally over the affected area and shrugged.

"It's just one of those things my mother always packed along with
the Bactine."

Mulder's head rolled restlessly against the pillows and Scully laid
her hand across his forehead.  "You have a fever," she said
worriedly.  Once more digging through the box, she pulled out a
digital thermometer and placed the plastic tip into his ear.  Seconds
later, she pulled the thermometer away from him and turned it so that
she could read the digital display.

"102 degrees," she announced.  Less than an hour had passed since he
had been stung.  She put her hands on his cheeks and used her thumbs
to life his eyelids.  "No sign of the oil."  Her wobbly smile was
meant to be reassuring.  She stood and Mulder grasped her hand in his
own, pulling her back down onto the mattress.

"Scully," he said as he forced his eyes open to meet hers.  "If I'm
infected... you know what you have to do," he told her solemnly.  She
recoiled and tried to pull her hand away. 

"No!" Her face was tortured.  Mulder pulled her back, pressing her
head down onto his chest.  His fingers sifted through her hair and
his heart ached.  He was afraid that it was too much, too soon after
Charlie to ask this of her, but if he was infected... 

"It may be the only choice we have, Scully," he told her softly. 
"We don't have a vaccine this time."  She lifted her head from his
chest.

"No!" she said again.  "You aren't displaying any of the symptoms
that I did when I was infected and you aren't showing any of the
symptoms that we've seen with the other victims.  I think you might
be immune to this now, but Mulder - you have to believe.  You have to
try!  Please promise me."

Mulder stroked his thumb over her cheek.  "I don't want to leave
you," he told her.  "I won't give up easily.  I promise.  But you
have to promise me - that if we're wrong, you'll do what has to be
done.  Scully... if I'm infected... we can't allow it to live."

Scully nodded and avoided his eyes.  "Okay, but I don't want to talk
about this any more," she said in an attempt to placate him.  Mulder
held onto her and forced her to meet his eyes.  Scully sighed,
knowing he wouldn't rest until he had extracted a promise from her.
"I promise, Mulder," she vowed, her eyes tearing up.

He blew out a breath and smiled gently.  Scully dashed the wetness
from her eyes impatiently and laid her hand back over his forehead. 
"Tell me how you feel," she demanded softly.  Mulder rubbed his
forehead against her cool palm.

"Tired.  Achy.  Like I have the flu," he said.  "I'm hot," he said
fretfully.  Scully stood and took the ice bucket into the bathroom. 
She dumped out most of the ice and filled the bucket with cool water.
She grabbed another washcloth and returned to the bedroom.  Setting
the bucket onto the nightstand, she dipped both washcloths into the
water.  Wringing out one cloth, she folded it lengthwise and laid it
across Mulder's aching brow.

"Better?" she asked.  He nodded and closed his eyes.  Scully
squeezed out the second cloth and began to run it over his chest and
down his arms.  She laid it across his stomach and tugged his jeans
off, draping them across the foot of the bed.  She dipped the cloth
back into the water and ran the cool cloth over his belly, lifting
his head from the pillow and wiping the back of his hot neck.

She repeated the process over and over again for the next hour or
two, dumping the water out of the bucket when it became tepid and
refilling it with cool.  She bathed his feverish body and forced
aspirin down his throat throughout the night as he tossed and turned
in a fitful sleep.  In the middle of the night Mulder abruptly sat up.

"I feel sick," he said hoarsely and Scully helped him out of bed. 
He leaned on her heavily as she guided him into the bathroom.  He
collapsed onto the floor and she sank down onto her knees next to
him, holding him as he vomited into the toilet.  Scully's stomach
clenched in a painful knot as she saw him expel long strands of a
black, oily substance from his nostrils, heaving it from his stomach.
She whispered soothing nonsense to him as his body shuddered and
convulsed, fighting to expel the alien invader.  After what felt like
hours, he sank weakly against the rim of the toilet.  Scully pulled
him back and he slumped against the bathtub in exhaustion.  Scully
handed him a wad of toilet paper and he mopped his mouth and blew his
nose, tossing the paper into the bowl.

Scully slammed down the lid of the toilet and hesitated as she
reached out to flush it.  Terrified to introduce the virus into the
municipal sewer system and equally terrified not to get rid of it,
she raced out of the bathroom, returning moments later with the box
of baking soda, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a pack of matches and a
fire extinguisher.  Setting everything down on the floor, she turned
her attention back to Mulder for a moment.  Soaking a towel in hot
water, she tenderly wiped his face.  Pulling him to his feet, she
mixed a small amount of the baking soda in a glass of water and
handed it to him.  "Rinse your mouth out with this," she told him. 
When he was finished, she twisted the cap off of the tiny bottle of
mouthwash provided by the motel and gave it to him.

"Now use this," she instructed.  He tilted his head and poured half
of the contents of the bottle into his mouth, swishing the liquid
around furiously.  He spat into the sink and she nudged the bottle
back up to his lips.  "Use all of it," she told him. 

Mulder eyed the items she had brought into the bathroom and looked
at her with reddened eyes.  "What are you going to do?" he asked. 
Scully glanced toward the toilet.

"Burn it?" she said, a question in her voice.  Mulder considered
their options and nodded.  

"I can't think of a better idea," he agreed.  Scully grabbed his arm
and steered him back into the bedroom.

"I want to help," he protested.  Scully shook her head.

"And, I want you as far away from here as possible," she countered. 
Mulder opened his mouth to argue further.

"Listen," she said.  "I may have to move really fast and the further
you are from the bathroom, the closer you are to the front door," she
told him reasonably.  Mulder stepped out of the bathroom but
stubbornly stood near the door, watching her.

Scully sighed and turned back to her work.  Using her foot, she
flipped up the lid of the toilet and gingerly leaned over the bowl to
look in.  The long strands of oil were lying still on top of the
water.  She didn't know if they were dead or not and she didn't care
to analyze them too closely.  Cracking the seal on the bottle of
alcohol, she poured a small amount into the bowl.  Picking up the
fire extinguisher, she disengaged the safety switch and set it back
down, keeping it close at hand.  Grabbing the book of matches, she
pulled one off and struck it, touching it to the rest of the matches
in the pack and threw the burning matches into the toilet.  The
alcohol ignited instantly and flames shot up quickly.  Scully reared
back and grabbed the fire extinguisher.  She could feel Mulder
breathing down her back and she slid an exasperated glance over her
shoulder at him.  Turning back, she saw that the flames had subsided
as the alcohol quickly burned off.  

As the flames flickered out, she looked into the bowl.  Charred bits
of ash floated on top of the otherwise clear water.  She quickly
flushed the toilet and turned back to Mulder who was leaning weakly
against the doorframe.

"You should be in bed," she admonished him as she led him into the
bedroom.  She looked at the rumpled bed, the sheets damp with
Mulder's sweat and the water she had been bathing him with, and she
pulled back the covers on the other bed, urging him to slip between
the dry sheets.  Mulder rested his head on the cool pillows and
looked up at her.

"Lie down with me," he pleaded and Scully peeled off her jeans,
climbing into the bed with him and laying her head on his chest.  She
rubbed her cheek against his skin and ran her hand down his side,
forcing her body to relax.  A moment later, she popped back up.

"Don't leave," he whispered petulantly.  She twisted on the bed and
reached for the thermometer on the nightstand, placing the plastic
tip into his ear. Mulder groaned.  "Not again.  Scully, you've taken
my temperature a million times tonight."

Scully looked at the digital readout and slumped gratefully.  "Your
fever is down," she told him.  "99 degrees."  Her eyes were bright
with unshed tears.  Mulder grinned tiredly.

"Sleepy," he told her.  Scully leaned back against the pillows and
pulled him into her arms.  He nuzzled his face against her breasts
and she stroked her hands down his back.

"I know you're tired," she murmured against his ear.  "Go to sleep,
Mulder."  She rested her cheek against his hair and turned her face
toward the window, watching for morning and praying that his
condition would continue to improve.  She held him a bit too tightly
for his comfort, she knew - but she'd been so terrified.  If she'd
lost him she would have gone completely mad...  

********

Scully hung up the phone and turned around when she heard Mulder
stirring in the bed behind her.  He stretched his arms over his head
and peered at her blearily.

"That was Tara," she told him.  "They found a place to stay about
fifteen miles up the road.  The kids are still asleep."

"How is Matty?" Mulder asked hoarsely.  Scully smiled and sat down
on the edge of the bed.

"Fine.  He wanted to know why were weren't staying at the hotel with
them." She rubbed her eyes and glanced at her watch.  "They still
have to get the children up and dressed.  Tara said they should be
back here in about an hour."  She laid her hand across his forehead. 
"How do you feel?" she asked.

Mulder stretched again, analyzing each body part as he tightened and
released his muscles.  "Pretty good," he told her.  " A little achy
and I'm still tired but all in all, much better."

Scully held up the thermometer expectantly and he rolled his head to
the side, exposing his ear to her.  A moment later she looked up with
a happy smile.  

"Normal," she announced.  Mulder sat up and swung his feet onto the
floor.

"Do I have time for a shower?" he asked.  Scully nodded. 

"Sure."

Mulder stood up and swayed, grabbing onto the headboard for support.
Scully wrapped an arm around his waist.  "Maybe you should hold off
on that shower until you're a little steadier on your feet," she
warned.

Mulder looked down into her earnest face.  "Or, you could take one
with me and hold me up," he suggested.  Scully blushed.

"Mulder, you could have died last night.  I don't think you're in
any condition to --"

Mulder interrupted.  "I'm not suggesting hot shower sex," he told
her.  "Come on, Scully.  I really want that shower.  I reek of alien
vomit."  Scully made a disgusted face at the hideous description of
his prior condition and he fought down a grin and looked at her
hopefully.

She sighed, relenting at under his pleading gaze.  A lack of sleep
combined with the overwhelming fear that Mulder would succumb to the
virus had left her exhausted.  The idea of a hot shower was a welcome
one.  "All right," she said.  She took a step away from him, her
hands lingering briefly on his waist until she was sure he was steady
on his feet.  She let go of him and unbuttoned the short-sleeved
denim shirt she was wearing.  Under Mulder's watchful gaze, she
reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, peeling the straps down
her arms, then quickly skimmed her panties down her hips, tossing her
clothing in a heap on the bed.  Naked, she took Mulder by the hand
and led him into the bathroom.  

Scully pushed back the shower curtain and leaned over the tub to
turn on the shower.  She glanced over her shoulder, raising her brow
as she took in his boxer-clad form.  Mulder braced a hand on the
countertop surrounding the sink and hurriedly pulled the boxers off. 
Scully stepped into the tub and turned on the shower, ducking her
head under the spray.  She held out her hands and helped him step
carefully over the lip of the tub and pulled him under the hot spray
of water with her.

Mulder groaned as the hot water pounded on his aching muscles.  His
groans turned to sighs of pleasure as Scully rolled a miniscule bar
of soap through her fingers, running her slippery hands over him,
washing away the sweat and grime of the fever from his skin.  She
picked up a small bottle of shampoo and poured a tiny amount into her
hand, stretching up to work the lather into his hair.  Mulder's head
dropped forward and she could hear a tiny humming noise coming from
the back of his throat as his body swayed slightly under her
massaging fingers.  She pushed him under the shower to rinse off
while she quickly washed herself.

Reluctant to leave the warmth of the shower, Scully bent down to
turn the tap, sending even more hot water into the spray.  She leaned
against his back, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades as she
wound her arms around his middle.  Mulder's hands slid over hers as
they let the hot, pounding water relax them.  Scully smoothed one
hand over his stomach and she trembled with the knowledge that once
again they had cheated death.  Mulder felt the tremor ripple through
her body and he twisted in her arms, pulling her into his embrace. 
He pressed her head against his chest and ran his hands down her
back, cupping her cheeks in his big hands.  Scully clutched him
tightly, listening to the steady thud of his heart beneath her ear,
so thankful to hear it and feel it.  She looked up, blinking against
the spray of the shower and drew his mouth down to hers in a tender
kiss.

Her tongue skimmed over his parted lips before stealing inside his
mouth for a quick taste.  Mulder banded his arms around the backs of
her thighs, pulling her high and hard against him as his mouth nipped
at hers.

"I changed my mind," he gasped against her ear.  "I do want hot
shower sex."  The doctor in Scully was telling her to say no, that it
was too soon, that he had been too sick but the woman in her was
shouting yes.  She wanted to draw Mulder into her body where she
could keep him safe and whole.  She bit her lip and leaned around his
body to turn off the shower.  Yanking back the curtain, she stepped
out of the tub, snatching two towels from the rack and holding one
out to him.  Mulder climbed out of the tub.  Taking the towel from
her outstretched hand, he moved toward her, crowding her against the
sink, trying to lift her onto the countertop, dripping water all over
the floor.  Scully grasped the counter behind her with both hands,
gasping as he cupped her wet breast in his hand.

"Not in here," she whispered.  Using her towel, she quickly ran it
over his body, then led him back into the bedroom.  She stopped next
to one of the beds, pushing on his shoulders, and Mulder sat down,
spreading his legs wide and pulling her between them.  He leaned
forward to nab one rosy nipple between his teeth and Scully shuddered
as his hot mouth closed over the sensitive tip.  She wound her
fingers in his hair and arched her body closer to his.

Mulder let her nipple slip out of his mouth and he pressed his lips
against the soft swell of her belly.  Scully placed both hands on his
chest and pushed him back onto the bed.  He grabbed her hips between
his hands and tried to pull her beneath him but she resisted. 
Crawling over him, surrounding him with all four limbs, she lowered
her face to his.  Her hair spilled around them in a coppery curtain
as she caught his lower lip between her teeth.  Reaching down, she
slid her fingers over his quivering flesh, guiding him to her center,
whispering to him softly.  "Let me..."

*********

Twenty minutes later, they heard the Excursion crunching over the
graveled parking lot.  "Ready?" Scully asked, her hand on the
doorknob.  Mulder placed on hand over hers, preventing her from
opening the door and wrapped the other hand around the back of her
neck.  

"Don't know when I'm gonna have the chance to do this again so..." 
He lowered his head, brushing his mouth softly over hers.  His lips
trailed over her cheek and he scraped his teeth gently across the
soft skin on the underside of her jaw.  "I love you," he breathed.

Scully sighed and burrowed deeper into his embrace, enjoying these
last few moments of privacy.  "I love you too," she murmured.  She
felt his lips curve against her skin and she reluctantly pulled away
from his arms.  "Let's go," she said.  He nodded and she pulled the
door open.

They climbed into the truck and flopped into their seats.  Meggie
banged her tiny fists on the cushioned restraint of her car seat,
babbling happily as she caught sight of Mulder and Scully.  Matthew
leaned forward against his seat belt.

"Aunt Dana.  Why come you and Uncle Mulder didn't sleep with us last
night?" he asked.  Scully laughed.

"Because Uncle Mulder wasn't feeling well last night, Matty," she
explained.  Matthew nodded wisely.

"Cause he gotted stung by the bees?" he wondered.  Scully nodded and
ruffled his hair with her hand.

"That's right.  The bee stings made him very sick," she told the
little boy.  A tiny frown wrinkled Matthew's nose and he peered
closely at Mulder who was sitting on the other side of Scully.

"But you made him all better, right Aunt Dana?" Matty looked up at
her with curious blue eyes.  Mulder leaned across Scully so that his
face was close to Matty's.

"That's right, Buddy.  Your Aunt Dana made me all better," he told
the child.  Matty smiled and placed a smacking kiss on the tip of
Mulder's nose.

"Dat's good!" he announced.  Reassured that all was well, he turned
to more pressing matters.  "Mommy, I'm huuunnngry!"  The adults
groaned and Bill put the truck in gear, pulling out of the parking
lot.

On the road again.

********************

~ Chapter Fourteen ~


Factoring in rush hour traffic, they were less than five hours from
the Canadian border.  The children were surprisingly quiet, seeming
to pick up on the sober moods of the adults.  Scully was driving and
Mulder had pulled out the identification packets provided by their
mysterious benefactor and reviewed the plan with Skinner, Bill and
Tara.  When they were less than thirty minutes from the border
crossing, Scully steered the truck off the road and into a deserted
picnic area.  She pulled up alongside the public restrooms and
everyone piled out to use the facilities.  After yesterday's scare,
however, they moved quickly to once again reach the relative safety
of the truck.  

They sorted through the supplies in the back of the vehicle and
moved as much as possible onto the roof rack.  Bill flipped down the
back seat of the Excursion and held the rear door open.  Scully
climbed in first and curling into a ball, squeezed herself under the
middle seat.  Mulder scrambled in behind her and settled on the floor
between the middle and rear seats.  Finally Skinner crawled in and
folded his large frame up in the back of the truck, effectively
spooning behind Mulder, all three of them hardly daring to breathe. 
Bill and Tara stacked boxes on the folded-down rear seat and draped
two blankets over the boxes, shrouding the hidden passengers in a
makeshift tent.  They piled the rest of the camping gear, blankets
and supplies on top and climbed back into the cab.

"Are you all right, back there?" Bill called.  Scully uttered a
muffled 'yes' while Mulder and Skinner groaned in discomfort.

"Mommy, I wanna hide too," Matty whined from the middle seat.  He
was squirming against his seatbelt trying to see Scully as she hid
under his seat.  Tara glanced worriedly at her husband.  Despite all
the plans they had made, they hadn't considered the fact that one of
the children would give away their secret.

"No Matty," she said.  "Only the grownups are going to hide right
now.  And you can't tell anyone that they are hiding, okay?" she
turned solemn green eyes toward her son.

"Ooookayy," he said in a long-suffering voice.  Tara smiled
approvingly.

"That's my good boy," she smiled.  When they were less than half a
mile from the border station, Tara reached down and rifled through
the diaper bag at her feet.  "Matty," she called.  "Look what I
found!"  She pulled out a Star Wars coloring book and an eight-pack
of crayons and handed them back to her son.  Matty's eyes lit up and
he was laboriously coloring in a picture of the Millennium Falcon
when Bill pulled to a stop near the guard shack.  "Smooth," he said
as he looked at his wife admiringly.  A glance in the rearview mirror
showed that Matthew's attention was focused on his coloring.  He was
seemingly unaware that they had stopped.  Tara nodded and slipped a
cassette of children's music into the tape player and she twisted in
her seat and began to sing with Meggie as Bill inched closer to the
guard shack.

"Good morning," Bill greeted the guard as he rolled down his window.
Tara leaned forward, her smile open and friendly as she glanced at
the guard who was holding out his hand for their identification.  The
guard took Bill's driver's license and the vehicle registration and
consulted the clipboard held in other hand.

"Kimberly and Brian Quinn?" he asked.  Bill nodded and kept a
friendly look on his face as he surreptitiously watched a second
guard who was slowly walking around the vehicle.

Scully held her breath as she strained to hear the conversation
between her brother and the border guard.  She felt Mulder's hand
tighten on her hip and she fought an insane urge to pull her gun from
the waistband of her jeans.  She could hear Skinner's controlled
breathing from behind Mulder and she turned her face into the thin
carpet on the floor of the truck as she willed the guard to let them
pass.

"Where are you headed, Mr. and Mrs. Quinn?" the first guard asked. 
Bill glanced over at Tara and then back at the kids before returning
his gaze to the guard.  

"We're taking the kids up into Saskatchewan," he said, reciting the
pre-arranged details.  "Thought we'd do a little camping before it
gets too cold."  The guard nodded and continued to study the
identification.  Bill could feel a line of sweat trickle down his
back.  "Listen," he said in a conversational voice.  "I want to head
north on Interstate 1, is that right?" he asked.  The guard looked up
from his clipboard.

"North on I-1 and then head West on 1.  That'll take you into
Saskatchewan," he told them.  Meggie clapped her hands.  

"Sing Mama!" she shrieked happily.  The guard grinned and handed the
driver's license and registration back through the window.

"You have a nice trip," he said.  "Welcome to Canada."  Bill handed
the identification cards over to Tara and she slipped them into her
bag.  

"Thank you," she called in a sunny voice and waved as Bill pulled
the truck past the guard shack.  Bill rolled up his window and Tara
made a display of singing with Meggie as they drove out of sight.

Bill heaved a heavy sigh when they put at least half a mile between
them and the border crossing.  "Give us a few miles," he called to
the hidden passengers,  "and then we'll find someplace to pull over."

The miles rolled by quickly and Bill pulled over into a copse of
trees.  He and Tara scrambled out of the truck and were lifting the
back door when they heard Mulder muttering.

"That had better be your hand, Scully," he said in a dire voice. 
Tara's eyes widened and Bill snorted as he shifted boxes and gave
Skinner a hand in climbing out of the back of the truck.  Scully
squirmed out of her hiding place and she popped up over the seat to
find Mulder sprawled on the floor.  His hair was disheveled and his
face was damp with perspiration.

"You look like a man who's been done but good, Mulder... and my
hands were in front of me the whole time," she told him innocently. 
Mulder huffed out a tired laugh and looked toward Skinner, noting the
pinkened tips of his ears.

"I think you owe me dinner and some sort of verbal commitment...
Sir," he drawled, laughing when the big man stalked off, flushed and
spluttering incoherently.  Scully fell back against the seat and
giggled herself silly while Bill and Tara leaned into each other and
snickered.  Mulder wiped the sweat from his face and commented into
the general vicinity, "Too bad I don't smoke anymore..."

The three adult Scullys howled.


********

"Mulder."

"Hmmm..."  Mulder was pouring over a map of Saskatchewan, running
the mileage numbers and trying to decide if they could make it to
Regina before it got too late; Bill's voice broke into his
calculating and he turned in the passenger seat and regarded Scully's
big brother, driving with both hands gripping the wheel.  Bill
looked... uncomfortable, would be the correct word.  He cleared his
throat twice, then his eyes left the road and he glanced over at
Mulder.

"I, um... I just... oh, hell!"  Bill blew out a frustrated breath.
"I didn't thank you for saving Matty... for protecting him.  You
could have died, Mulder.  Jesus, you didn't even hesitate.  And when
I saw those goddamn bees, I froze - all I could see was Charlie." 
Bill swallowed convulsively and plunged on, as Mulder turned fully in
his seat and regarded him solemnly.  

"I owe you my son's life.  And mine too, and Tara's and Meggie's. 
Just wanted you to know... I'm glad you're here.  Glad you've got the
courage and the balls to do what has to be done to survive."  Bill
fell silent and frowned fiercely at the road ahead, as if he'd said
too much.  His words surprised the hell out of Mulder, who'd figured
that his presence was mostly tolerated by Bill even though they'd
more or less made a shaky sort of peace between them.  Mulder
carefully folded the map and set it aside, then spoke quietly.

"Bill, there was never any question where Matty was concerned.  I
did what anyone would do.  What you would do if you were placed in
that position.  I love the little guy - I'm his Uncle Mulder,
remember?  And somewhere in that split-second before those bees
attacked I thought about being immune, and of course since Matty
wasn't..." His voice trailed off and he shrugged, trying to make
light of it.  But Bill wasn't having any of it and his skepticism
shone in his voice.

"Oh bullshit, Mulder.  The last thing on your mind would have been
immunities.  Don't even try passing this off as everyday tasking - I
don't buy it.  You protected my son from certain death - a horrible
death.  With no thought for your own safety - and for that I will
always be grateful. I've seen you fight for us, all of us - I've seen
the love you have for Dana.  And I used to waste a shitload of energy
hating your guts - I think I told you that once before."  Without
taking his eyes from the road Bill held up his right hand, and
extended it toward Mulder, who slowly grasped it with his right hand.
The two men clasped hands tightly, silently - until Mulder knew if he
didn't say something to break the emotion-laden moment he'd probably
start blubbering, and Bill Scully would never let him live it down.

He dropped Bill's hand and batted his eyelashes outrageously at the
elder Scully, murmuring wickedly, "Keep it up and I'll be asking you
to walk down the aisle with me instead of having you walk your sister
down to join me..."  The import of the words took exactly ten seconds
to soak into Bill's consciousness, but when it did he cracked a rare
smile, and this time he shook Mulder's hand with delight.

"You're proposing to Dana?  When?  Jesus... that's great news!" 
Mulder shushed him quietly when his normally low voice threatened to
rise in accordance with his enthusiasm.  Scully, Tara and the
children were asleep in the furthest back seat but both women had
super-hearing when they wanted it.  Mulder grinned at his possibly
future brother-in-law as he confided his plans.

"In about an hour or so, when we stop for food.  Looking at the map,
I figure we'll be in Whitehorse in another three or four days.  I
remember it's a decent-sized city.  It should be easy to find
somebody to marry us.  Of course, I'm assuming a hell of a lot - and
maybe somebody as wonderful as Scully deserves a hell of a lot better
than me."  Mulder's voice held a tinge of self-derision as he spoke. 
He WAS assuming a hell of a lot.  But after their recent close call
he didn't want to wait until they reached their destination.  He
wanted to marry Dana Scully; the sooner the better.  He saw no real
reason to wait.  Some of his anxiety must have shown on his face,
because Bill was quick to reassure him.

"Mulder, my sister loves you.  I have never seen her so protective
toward any other man.  She has regularly told me to go to hell when
I've given her a rash of shit over her involvement and partnership
with you - and when it's all said and done I have to trust her
judgment of you because I've now seen it with my own eyes.  You'll
make her happy - you already do.  Just don't make me wear a tux,
okay?"  Bill's voice was long-suffering at the last remark, and
Mulder chuckled in relief, then jumped about a foot when the sleepy
yet gruff voice in the seat behind him added his two cents' worth.

"I second that, Mulder.  No tux.  As your former AD - and best man -
I forbid the wearing of monkey suits."  

Mulder's reply was joking and light-hearted - and grateful... good
feelings to have, after what they'd been through in the past few days
- very good feelings.  "I'll remember that... Sir."  

An exaggerated sigh from the back seat, and a growled retort, made
him grin.  "That's 'Sir Walter' to you, Smart Ass..."


About a third of the way to Regina they stopped at a small roadside
diner next to an equally-small gas station.  Outside the look of the
place left much to be desired, but the interior was clean and bright
and reassuringly normal.  A smiling waitress led them to a large
table and offered a booster seat for Matty and a high chair for
Meggie. She settled them into their seats and left them with menus,
promising to return with their water.  Matty bounced up and down on
his booster seat and chanted gleefully, "Hambugger!  Hambugger!" 
Mulder shook his head and tousled the child's hair with a gentle hand.

"Sorry, Slugger - no hamburger.  Maybe toasted cheese - is that okay
with you?"  Matty thought for a moment, before nodding.

"Fench Fies, too?"  Mulder smiled, relieved the boy would not fight
them on the lack of meat.  He appeased Matty with a tentative
affirmation; he'd ask the waitress what kind of cooking grease they
used, before ordering fries.  Tara sighed as she closed the menu,
already knowing what she'd have to order.

"Salad for me, Bill - for you as well."  Bill shook his head,
staring down at the menu in his hands.

"I can't eat just salad - my stomach will be torn up for days. 
There has to be something else on the menu that doesn't contain meat
or corn-related shit."  Scully flipped through the little menu and
her eye caught on lunch item - and her grin was evil as she looked at
her big brother.

"Hey, Bill... you could always have a bowl of vegetarian chili - you
know, a healthy side of beans with your salad..."  Bill groaned and
made a foul face at his sister at the mention of beans, which he
secretly adored but that also tended to do a number on his digestive
system.  His retort was issued in a mock-growl.

"Oh, great - I'll be farting my way north to Alaska..."  Matty
giggled and shrieked in delight.

"Daddy farts!  Daddy farts!"  Tara emitted a strangled laugh and
clapped a hand over Matty's mouth, while Skinner and Mulder roared
with mirth.  Scully eyed her brother with amused resignation.

"Oh yes... the male Scully gastro-intestinal proclivity... I
remember it well, God help us all.  Maybe we should shop for gas
masks before we get back on the road."  Bill fought to keep the
injured look on his face, but he couldn't hold it, and he chuckled at
his own expense.

"That one talent was bonding fodder for Dad, Charlie and me... we
used to hold contests in the basement.  We'd eat Mom's Cajun-style
chili, always loaded with four different kinds of beans - and then
head down to the basement and engage in some serious ass-singing. 
Dad usually won."  The matter-of-fact explanation had them all
laughing anew - and Mulder could tell it had afforded Scully some
poignant memories of the two men in her life that she'd lost. He
reached out a hand and slipped it under her soft hair, rubbing at her
neck; she flashed him a grateful, loving glance before commenting in
a deadpan monotone.

"Well, that explains why the rumpus room always smelled like rotten
eggs..."

They were still laughing when the waitress came to take their orders
- and if she thought it odd that four healthy adults ordered small,
simple salads and a little boy seemed content with toasted cheese...
she never said a word.  When the big, dark-haired man with the
military posture ordered a huge bowl of vegetarian chili, and the
entire table including the little boy all erupted into gales of
laughter... she merely smiled and took their orders and walked away,
shaking her head at the crazy Americans.

An hour later Scully looked at her watch and remarked, "We should
really get on the road.  It'll get dark earlier, now that we're this
far north."  Tara nodded and began to gather up the children; Skinner
offering to take Meggie who had fallen asleep in the high chair. 
Mulder stood, catching the glint in Bill's eyes as he stepped around
his chair, closer to Scully.  He could feel the tension start to
build; his stomach was churning with butterflies.  He was about to
ask the woman he loved to marry him, in front of her family and their
dearest friend.  If she refused him, he didn't know what he'd do.  If
she said 'yes'... he'd be forever grateful and spend eternity making
her happy, and safe.  He placed a warm, mostly steady hand on her
shoulder and stayed her movement when she would have risen as well.

"Wait, Scully.  There's one more thing we need to discuss before we
leave.  It's very important."  She looked up at him and quirked one
eyebrow, waiting for him to speak.  And Mulder found his voice had
gone bye-bye... and his throat was as dried up as a desert.  He
couldn't speak - couldn't function.  Alarmed, Scully watched his
Adam's apple bob and swallow - and she must have thought he was ill
again because she tried to rise once more, and again Mulder's hand
tightened on her shoulder.  When she looked into his eyes Mulder knew
exactly what she was thinking... and judging by the way her eyes
widened and she started to tremble... Mulder figured he must have
spilled the gastro-intestinal producers... more commonly known as
'the beans'.  

He never knew if he had spoken out loud or if they were so in tune
with each other that she'd somehow read his thoughts... but Scully
knew.  Her eyes teared up as he dropped gracefully to his knees on
the floor of the dinky little roadside cafe - and his simple words
were heartfelt and shaky and overflowing with the bounty of his love
for her.

"Scully..."  

She stared into his eyes, and her voice came out on a one-word
whisper.

"Yes?"  

He smiled at her, at the remembrance of saying just these words
before, in their past - a long time ago.  Back then he'd been a
teasing idiot... this time it was never more vital and less teasing. 
He reached for her hand and held it in both of his.

"Marry me..."  He watched one tear slip down her cheek and curve
into her chin, then another - and another.  She swallowed and smiled
and her entire face glowed.  She parted her rosy lips to speak.

"Yes."

*******************


~ Chapter Fifteen ~

Happiness was a wonderful thing, Mulder decided, as he drove the big
Ford along Route 1 West toward Regina.  Beside him in the passenger
seat Scully lay facing him, a soft smile on her face as she watched
him drive.  The look in her sweet blue eyes warmed him, melted him -
and made it damned hard to concentrate on driving when all he wanted
to do was pull her down into the nearest rear seat and take large
delicious bites of her.  He forced his breathing to even out and
dragged his eyes back to the road, vaguely noting they were only
about twenty miles from the Regina city limits.  

Once in Regina, they would find a hotel and stop for the night even
though it was rather early.  They had some serious wedding plans to
make - Mulder wanted to give Scully as much of a dream wedding as was
possible.  Maybe there wouldn't be a legion of family and friends
there and a band playing disco while they shoved white cake into each
others' faces and made a mad dash for a limo while wedding guests
bombarded them with rice... but the most important ingredients would
be there.  The family would be there.  They had a best man and a
matron of honor... not to mention someone to give the bride away.  As
far as Mulder was concerned, they had it all.

"What are you thinking about?"  The soft voice eased into his
consciousness and Mulder turned his head to smile at the woman he
adored.  Her hair was splayed out against the seat's head rest and
she looked breathtaking - the sight of her enough to make his poor
heart pound itself silly.  And she was gazing at him so tenderly as
she asked him to reveal his thoughts -  

"I was thinking about the oddities of life."  He stifled a laugh as
both of Scully's eyebrows shot up, and added quickly, "Not that any
of us are odd!  But that life is odd.  A few days ago we were all
facing the 'end of the world as we know it', to quote the song...
today I'm happier than I have been in years.  With all we have to
face yet, I'm happy.  I'm barreling down a Canadian highway in a big-
ass Ford with my future wife and an ex-boss and an ex-Mulder-hater
whose wife and children have become as dear to me as my own family. 
Your brother Bill and I had a bonding moment to end all bonding
moments, and although we didn't tear off our shirts and beat the drum
in front of the bonfire while smearing war paint on each other... it
was still bonding.  I may never get over it."  

Scully scooted a little closer on her seat and her hand found
Mulder's knee and squeezed.  "Mulder... if I haven't yet told you...
I love it that you and my brother are finally getting along.  It
means the world to me."  Mulder placed a hand over hers and pressed
it into his leg, holding her hand there - keeping both of them warm.


They were exactly one mile inside the city limits of Regina when
Tara looked out of the window - and screamed.

Mulder slammed on the brakes and turned in time to see Tara cover
her eyes in anguish; Scully pushed her face into her window and
looked out, then gasped and turned to Mulder.  Her expression was
bathed in fear.

"Mulder oh God oh no Jesus.  Jesus..."  For out in the city streets
of Regina a war had begun... and the good guys were not winning.  

There were bees everywhere.  They flew about in the air like drunken
little zeppelins, dive-bombing the screaming people who with crazed
purpose were trying to run.   Hundreds of them, zooming about,
causing traffic collisions as cars and other vehicles swerved to
avoid the pedestrians who ran out into the street.  And Mulder had
stomped on the brakes a millisecond before slamming into an elderly
woman tearing frantically at her snow-white hair - which was spotted
with bees.  In the back of their Excursion the children had awoken
from their nap and were crying in terror; Bill and Tara were trying
their best to shield their little faces from the carnage beyond the
safe confines of the cab.  Skinner turned away from his horrified
observance of the world gone mad outside his window, and called out
to Mulder.

"We've got to get the hell out of here!  If we get stuck in this
mess we're doomed."  

Mulder nodded grimly, nosing the big Ford forward through whatever
open spaces he could find - but it was slow going.  He didn't want to
hit anything; they could not afford front-end damage to the
Excursion.  And he prayed he wouldn't hit any people, although by the
looks of things these folks were already condemned to die; their
demise ordained by a higher alien force.  Under his breath he could
hear himself chanting in despair, "Why why why WHY...!"

As they moved forward the bees were relentless in their programmed
fury.  Aggressively attacking, for the virus brought out the evil in
them as well, if insects even had a dark side... incongruous but
impossible to deny.  Though they'd known what was coming; though
they'd been warned... the carnage was terrible to see.

There was not a single thing do be done for these people... not a
thing.

Scully gasped as she was an unwilling witness to a furious coven of
honeybees who gathered around the head of a little blonde-haired
girl; the child screamed and stumbled, running into a fire hydrant. 
Scully turned away when the child fell and the bees surrounded her,
high childish screams turning into agonized moans... 

Mulder's eyes burned with hot, unshed tears as he kept the vehicle
moving forward, forcing himself to concentrate on the road and not
the sight of innocent people meeting such a gruesome end.  Knowing
that some would die, instantly; they'd be the lucky ones.  They would
be the inferior incubators, and the virus would reject them, seeping
out of their bodies and going in search of someone stronger.  Someone
with the right constitution, whatever that might be... someone who'd
make a dandy cocoon for the monster developing within.  And those
incubators would know what was happening to them... just as Scully
had known.  

Jesus, Lord - help us all, Mulder thought.  Deliver us from madness...

Inch by inch the Ford edged around the mayhem that had once been a
quiet little town.  Skinner looked out the side windows, tears
trickling unashamedly down his face as the imagery of the Apocalypse
superimposed itself against the backdrop of what had once been a 
nice place to live.  A Burger King and a Texaco Station; along the
main drag little shops with signs like 'Sew Sue Me', and 'Hair
Today/Gone Tomorrow'... a candy shop with display windows bursting
with confections of every sort - an Ace Hardware store and a Radio
Shack.  A neat little post office and a cute little public library. 
Regina had been a very sweet place.  A great place to raise a
family...

No longer... Skinner pushed his face into his hands and cried. 
Cried for what this town had once meant to its citizens, cried for
the helplessness they all felt as they ran for their lives and in
doing so established their selfish need to live by not stepping out
of the cab to help another human being.

As if they could do anything... of course they could not.  And this,
too had been the master plan of the alien colonists, all along.  Make
the stupid little humans unable to save each other; make them run
around like headless chickens in their fear and matchless anguish. 
Make them suffer; make them die.  All of them, die.

All except the passengers of a big-ass Ford Excursion on a one-way
trip to a colder climate - and a temporary reprieve.

Finally spotting a free lane and flooring it, Mulder pushed his
advantage.  The vehicle leapt forward, knocking over trash cans
sitting at the curb of Main and Second Avenue; careening around the
corner and speeding down Second as fast as possible.  As they bore
down the avenue the bees became more and more sparse; they ran two
red lights and narrowly missed a biker overcome by bees, still
sitting upright on his Harley.  

Inside the cab Matty and Meggie's cries had reduced down to sobs and
hiccups.  They leaned against their parents and trembled.  Tara
rocked Meggie, wet face buried in the child's soft hair.  Matty
curled himself into his father's arms and sucked furiously on his
thumb.  Bill didn't have the heart to stop him, although they'd been
after the boy to stop thumbsucking.  Now was not the time to rip that
comfort away.  Scully glanced back at her family, reassuring herself
they were all right, and Bill met her frightened eyes with a small
shaky smile and remarked, "Wish I could suck on MY thumb, right about
now..."  

Scully smiled back, just a little.  "Go ahead, Big Brother - I won't
tell a soul."

Five miles of turning and twisting down the side streets of Regina
had taken them away from the city proper.  They found themselves
skirting the countryside in the early-evening twilight.  As Mulder
drove he kept a sharp lookout for any more bee fatalities, but the
worst of the threat had seemed to be just in the downtown area.  As
if someone had just flown overhead and dropped a shitload of bees on
the poor, unsuspecting citizens of Regina...

Which he had a feeling was exactly how it had gone down.

Half an hour later they were back on Route 1, going west toward
Whitehorse.  By silent and mutual agreement there would be no more
stops.  Mulder would drive until he was tired and then pull over for
Bill to take the wheel.  If they drove nonstop they'd reach
Whitehorse in less than two days.  

Beside him in the front cab Scully sat on the middle console, as
close to Mulder as she could get without interfering with his
driving.  She kept one hand behind his head, palm warm and comforting
on his neck; the other hand curved around his inner thigh.  Mulder
craved her touch more than ever.  The images of what they'd been
forced to witness were still too fresh; would remain fresh and in
Technicolor in his brain, far beyond this day.  Mulder needed
Scully's hands on him - needed to know she was alive and safe.  He
murmured to her without taking his eyes from the road.

"Scully... pinch me, hard.  Please."   She quirked an eyebrow but
did as he asked, and pinched his inner thigh hard enough to bruise
him.  He jumped a little but never broke concentration with the road.
Scully smoothed her fingers over the hurt, and said nothing.  After
another few minutes of silence, he spoke.

"Thank you, baby.  I just wanted to assure myself... that I'm still
alive..."  

Scully nodded, and smiled.  Alive, she thought.  He was alive and
that was all that mattered to her at the moment.  She brought her
face close to his and kissed his cheek, whispering into his ear.  "I
know, sweetheart.  I know..." 

*******************

They made it to Whitehorse in two days.  Taking turns with the
driving and stopping only for gas and food, they drove through the
remainder of Saskatchewan, British Columbia and finally the Yukon
Territory.  Two days of relative silence in the cab of the Excursion,
each adult trying to keep from dwelling upon what they'd been forced
to witness - the first strike of the alien colonizers.  The children
had nightmares when they slept and clung to whatever adult they could
when they were awake.  More often than not it was Skinner who would
hold their small bodies close to him and soothe their fright with
silly stories and even sillier songs.  He was gentle and sweet with
them and Tara fell in love with him in two days, between Regina and
Whitehorse.  His attention to the children gave her a chance to spend
some time with Bill, which went a long way toward helping both of
them to recover from what they'd seen.

The trip west was still fraught with peril - two days into
colonization and the signs of it were everywhere.  They drove through
towns left deserted and abandoned either by death or by evacuation. 
Once in a while they encountered people walking around, dazed and
disoriented.  They saw bees in attack mode, and more often than not
the resulting bad dreams shook them to their very foundations - and
they saw what was perhaps the most heinous sight of all: the first
evidence of a complete gestation cycle.  Obviously the resulting
embryonic entity had vacated the used-up body which lay in the street
with its chest gaping open.  The entity was nowhere to be seen - and
it was hard to say how long the entire cycle had taken.

The first time Bill saw it he gasped aloud.  Pointing at it, he
turned to Scully with wide, distressed eyes.

"Jesus, Dana! Is THIS what would have happened to Charlie?!"  They'd
been in the middle seat huddled together, soft voices reminiscing
about this and that - when Bill looked out the window.  The big burly
man fallen at the side of the road had been on his back - skin like
sticky gel and glazed with death.  His chest had been gaping open and
there was blood everywhere.  Scully closed her eyes at the sight and
swallowed hard as she answered her brother.

"Yes - it could have happened to Charlie.  We think the virus
attacks in different ways.  He could have ended up gestating an alien
entity within his body - consumed from the inside out and aware of
what was happening to him - and he would have suffered horribly.  He
could also have been affected by that aspect of the virus which seems
to cause good people to commit the most reprehensible of crimes - as
Charlie did."

Scully turned into her brother's arms and rested her head on his
shoulder, unable to make her brain erase the images still so fresh in
her memory.  Bill soothed a hand over her shoulder and his voice was
hushed when he spoke.

"Dana... I can't begin to imagine how to accept something as
unbelievable as this happening in the world - yet there it is.  And
you and Mulder have been fighting this... God.  You may just be the
most courageous person I know..."  Scully smiled up at him with a
lopsided little grin, and her retort made him smile as well.  

"I don't know about courageous, Bill... foolhardy sometimes,
perhaps.  Strong only when I've got someone at my back, like Mulder. 
But I'm as afraid as the next person.  I think about the future and I
am beyond terrified.  The fight we will have on our hands, just to
survive... we'll have to be strong together.  All of us together..."  

Bill nodded, and gave her a loving squeeze.  "We will be, Dana...
when the time comes."  Scully laid her head once more against her
brother's shoulder, and her whispered words were meant only for him.

"Bill... as much as you can, please keep Tara and the children from
seeing the worst of the carnage.  It's bad enough that Mulder and I
have to acknowledge this horror... and we've had a long time to
acclimate ourselves to it.  No one should be forced to have this
image burned into their brains."  

Whitehorse was a relatively small city, but well-kept and clean; a
level piece of ground surrounded by mountain ranges.  There were
stores and quite a few hotels;  all the regular tourist-type shops
and restaurants everywhere.

There were also bodies littering the streets in lieu of papers and
pop cans and old newspapers.  Dead bodies, discarded human
incubators... evidence of murder by madness, brought on by the virus
and the way it attacked each person.  Bill forbade Tara to look out
of the windows and made her keep the children between them, hidden
from the gruesome view.  She obeyed his low-voiced command with wide,
frightened eyes.

In this part of the Yukon Territory the air was cold and damp, with
autumn already finished and winter creeping up fast.  The general
consensus amongst the adults concluded that this far north there
would still be insect activity but it would be sluggish, as the
hibernating species would be preparing for their customary long
sleep.  But if a large enough swarm were dropped into the area, they
could cause significant damage.  They knew they couldn't stay long -
and they couldn't take a chance on lingering outside the vehicle for
very long.

Skinner wheeled down the main thoroughfare, sharp eyes on the
lookout for gas stations - but he slammed on the brakes when he
spotted a church.  Small and made of cedar logs, it sat back from the
main drag.  There was a sign on the still-green front lawn.  Skinner
read it aloud.

"Yukon Gospel Outreach - hmm.  Doesn't say what denomination."  From
the truck it was hard to see if there was life beyond the stained
glass front windows.  Mulder shrugged and made to open the door, but
Skinner stopped him with a hand to his arm. 

"Wait, Mulder!  You're just gonna go out there with no protection? 
Don't be stupid.  You need someone to watch your back; we don't know
what we're up against here..." Mulder interrupted him firmly.

"Walter, I'm immune, remember?  If anyone should go it's me.  If I
get stung it's no big deal.  I just run a fever and spit up black
shit."  His smile was reassuring.  "Scully and I need to do this.  We
want to do it now, before it gets any worse and there's nobody left. 
Hell, there may NOT be anyone left - this town looks damned deserted.
We want to get married in a church, if we can - by someone ordained."
He looked back at Scully, who sat next to Tara bouncing Meggie on her
knee.  Scully returned his loving stare with one equally tender,
visibly trying her best not to look afraid.  He smiled again at her
and spoke softly and confidently.

"I'm just gonna check out the church. If I find anyone in there I'll
signal you from the window.  You just hang tight and don't open the
doors or windows."  With that he shrugged into his jacket and
carefully opened the door, although he couldn't see any bees.  He
quickly slipped out the small gap and slammed the door behind him. 
He refused to look around him at the bodies dotting the streets and
yards of the town.  Fending off one or two droning bees that had
dropped to his level from out of nowhere, he ran to the church and
shoved at the front door, which swung open easily.  Slamming the door
firmly, Mulder walked up the center aisle.

The church was small and damp and a little cold, as if the heat
hadn't been run for some time.  Rustic, yet elegant with its cedar
log beams and roughly carved pews, it had a welcoming aura that
greeted him as he stood in the aisle and yelled, "Anyone home?"

Five minutes passed before Mulder heard anything, and then before he
could whip around and confront the footstep behind him he felt the
prod of a gun in his back, and a rough voice in his ear.  A rough,
female voice...

"Who are you and what do you want?  We have nothing to steal.  State
your business and get the hell out."  Mulder held up his hands in
surrender and kept his voice easy and calm.

"Take it slow with that gun. Okay?  I'm a Federal agent.  I can't
prove it but I am."  The gun poked him when he tried to turn around,
and the voice was hostile and disbelieving.

"What would FBI be doing up here now, when everyone's dead or dying?
You're too late.  I don't know how many people are still alive but
it's not many.  Goddamn bees... everywhere.  We were all outside,
dammit!  All outside... a wedding.  Shit!  It was a cause for
celebration, here in town - and everyone came.  All of us outside,
having fun..."  He heard a sniffle; the woman was fighting back
tears, he'd bet.  She poked him again and her voice was just as tough.

"Turn around!  Slowly.  I want to see into your eyes.  If you're
lying I'll know."  Slowly and carefully Mulder turned around, trying
not to make any sudden moves.  He turned and locked eyes with this
latest, armed threat -

And had to look down to do it, because this threat was no bigger
than Scully.

And as young.

She had long black hair held off her face with a white headband and
she would have fit nicely under his chin - same as Scully.  Big eyes,
almost black - wide-cheeked and dark-skinned.  Native, Mulder
realized.  Heavier than Scully but still on the delicate side;
dressed in torn jeans and a dirt-smeared sweatshirt, the woman looked
to be about thirty.  She handled the shotgun in her arms with casual
authority, and when she spoke her wide mouth did not show any
expression.

"Now then, FBI.  I repeat - what are you doing here?  I want
answers."  Mulder smiled at her as confidently as he could with a gun
in his face, and the woman actually bared her teeth at him.  He
sighed.

"We came up from the States.  Trying to escape the bees - we're
headed north to where the bees can't go.  Look, Miss - we're
harmless.  Honestly.  My family is out in that Excursion parked at
the curb - and we are tired and hungry and scared and my partner and
I want to get married.  Is there a minister here at the church?"

The woman looked at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted horns.  Mulder
actually found himself wanting to check his forehead for little
pointy bone protrubences... Suddenly the woman barked out a laugh
that sounded very familiar to Mulder, and he realized that for some
weird reason she reminded him of Skinner.

"You want to marry your partner.  Now.  In this church.  You must be
one insane white guy, Mister... you been outside lately?  There IS no
more reason to marry, not anymore.  The world is ending.  I don't
know why but I can see how.  A plague of bees, who would have
thought?  My father and I expected locusts.  At least that's what the
Revelation told us.  I never thought I'd see it in my lifetime.  Not
like this - not so cruel as this."  The woman's hands shook, and she
dropped the gun and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. Like a
light snapping off she went from tough to weak and grief-stricken. 
And Mulder did the only thing he could think of when faced with
another human in pain - he stepped closer to her and drew her into a
gentle embrace and let her sob on him.  He rocked her a little,
thinking this was one of the more bizarre moments of his life.

Sniffling, the woman pulled away and wiped at her eyes, then a very
small smile flashed out at Mulder, which transformed her entire face.
Pink-cheeked, she thanked him gruffly and sank down into the nearest
pew.  Mulder sat next to her and waited patiently.  Finally, she
spoke.

"My name is Mary Honea.  My father is the Elder here - preacher,"
she explained.  "We have been holed up in the rectory for two days,
afraid to go outside.  When the bees came we didn't know what was
happening.  Some of our friends killed themselves, thinking it was
the end of the world.  I thought so too - and then I saw something. 
Horrible, just awful - I can't imagine anything so horrible.  One of
our neighbors, Mr. Fronke - something grew inside him and exploded
out early this morning and ran away.  He'd keeled over in our back
yard and I could see him from the rectory window.  That's when I knew
it wasn't the Revelation.  That's when I knew it was evil, but not of
this world."

Mulder sighed again and did his best to explain the last few months,
keeping it as short and precise as possible.  When he finished, Mary
nodded, seemingly understanding and accepting as well.  She stood up
and looked toward the door.

"You and your family are welcome here.  You can stay as long as you
need to, and I am sure my father would be glad to marry you and your
woman.  I'll go get him - but please - he's old and fragile right
now.  You see, my mother died yesterday - and we couldn't even go to
her and bury her.  She is in the greenhouse.  I won't let my father
go in there - I saw the black fluid you described come out of her
nose, you see.  I knew it was very, very dangerous. I'm a nurse, by
the way." She nodded to Mulder and walked to a back entrance and
slipped through the door panel.  Mulder wiped his face wearily, then
went to the front door of the church and opened it carefully,
motioning to everyone in the Ford.

**************

Jonathan Honea had been born in Barrow, Alaska but had moved south
with his family as a young man fresh out of seminary.  He and his
wife Anna had raised six children in Whitehorse, establishing himself
in a church that he'd helped to create.  He'd had a wonderful life,
the only  sadness being the death of his youngest daughter Mary's
husband Calvin.  After his death she'd moved back to Whitehorse from
Anchorage where she'd worked in an Inupiaq free clinic, and had
helped the local small hospital outside of Whitehorse.  Mary was a
Godsend to her elderly parents, and life had been better -

Until now.

Jon Honea shook his head, and clasped his daughter's hand as she sat
next to him on the comfortable sofa in the rectory's sitting room. 
Gathered in front of them the Scullys and Mulder and Skinner listened
with sympathy as he described his Anna.  "She was a pretty little
girl when I first met her, and she just got prettier as she got
older.  On the inside, too - so pretty.  Like my Mary -" He squeezed
his daughter's hand, and Mary smiled at him -  "Where it counted. 
Inupiaq life teaches us that the value and beauty of a person is
measured in the spirit.  A beautiful spirit is treasured, more than
gold - more than anything.  In this my Anna had no equal."  Tears
shone in the old man's eyes as he spoke of his life-mate, and his
pain at not being able to afford her dignity in death was very
apparent as well.

"Mary tells me not to touch Anna; that this substance coming out of
her has to be some type of poison.  I have seen the death outside our
doors - I know what it is.  I saw one of them, early yesterday." 
Mary turned to stare at her father in disbelief.

"You didn't tell me you saw one, Dad!  Why didn't you say anything?"
Mary was clearly upset by this, and her father shook his head sadly
as he answered her.

"I didn't want to frighten you, Daughter.  I wasn't to know you'd
already seen.  I knew you would believe me - but I hoped to spare
you."  Mary nodded sadly, and gave her father's stooped shoulders a
gentle hug.  Her voice was firm with him.

"I'm a nurse.  I have seen terrible things in my life."  She turned
and addressed Mulder and Scully.  "I once helped a trapper cut off
his leg to escape a bear trap that neither of us had the strength to
budge.  I helped him cut and then I dragged him through the woods and
up onto the road to flag down a car.  I had nothing but an old
hunting jacket to wrap around his thigh, and he bled to death on the
way to the hospital.  He was Calvin, my second cousin - and my
husband."  Scully made a soft sound of sympathy and reached out a
hand to the native woman, who took it hesitantly as if unused to
comfort from another woman.

Mulder cleared his suddenly clogged throat, and his voice was low
and earnest.  "What you think is happening in the world - it's true. 
And right now the only way to escape it is to go north.  Go to a cold
climate; somewhere that the black oil cannot survive and the bees
can't go.   As far north as possible - Alaska, obviously.  Where in
Alaska, we aren't entirely sure.  Barrow sounds far enough but I know
it's well-known.  We may be safer in a smaller village - some tiny
dot on a map."  Jon Honea nodded slowly.

"I know such a place.  I lived there for a few years when I was a
boy.  It's about seventy-five miles east of Barrow.  You can fly in
or snowmobile - or mush in - but it's isolated.  Mt. Vu'luk.  Small
place.  Is that what you have in mind?"   

Scully thought for a moment, then looked at Mary before she
answered.  "Mr. Honea, I'm a medical doctor as well as a Federal
Agent.  Is there a clinic in this village?  We would need one."  Jon
Honea nodded.

"Yes, a clinic.  Very small, but equipped with just about all the
important things.  Mary knows.  She was up there last year."  He
looked at his daughter, and she spoke up.

"That's right.   It's got a lab and plenty of supplies, most of them
new.  I supervised its setup, last year.  The village had needed a
clinic for so long - it was a happy day for them."  Mary rose and
approached Tara who was sitting on the sofa holding Meggie in her
arms.  She knelt down in front of the child and smiled at her; the
wide grin changing her features and lending them the sort of beauty
which her father had described her spirit as having.  Meggie stared
at Mary, then reached out a hand and grabbed hold of a hunk of hair
that had escaped the white headband.  She pulled and Mary winced. 
Tara extricated her daughter's little hands with a mortified look on
her face, stuttering her apologies.  Mary waved it away with another
smile.

"Don't worry; she didn't hurt me.  I have a lot of hair.  She is a
lovely child."  Mary's face was wistful, and when she turned back to
her father her gaze fell upon Skinner and she actually blushed at the
intensity of his stare from behind the wire rimmed glasses.  Mulder
noted the little by-play... and smiled to himself.

Mary served them caribou stew for lunch.  The meat was a little
strong in flavor and its texture was stringy but it was the first
real food they'd had in many days - and everyone wolfed it down, even
Meggie; she sat on her father's lap sucking happily on a piece of
meat.  Mulder had never tasted anything so good.  As a boy he'd had
venison but never caribou - and he made a vow to keep his silence
about the fact that caribou were, in effect reindeer - he didn't
think Matty would appreciate eating Rudolph...

After lunch the women went with Mary to her rooms to find proper
wedding apparel, the petite native woman eyeing Scully with a
practiced eye and declaring she had the perfect dress.  The men
stayed in the sitting room and discussed the upcoming fight, with
Skinner and Mulder taking turns explaining to Jon Honea what would
continue to happen to the world.  While he spoke, Mulder never got
the feeling that the elderly preacher didn't understand or didn't
accept his words.  Jon listened with an open mind, nodding and asking
intelligent questions which indicated he had somehow found a way to
accept that which he'd already witnessed since colonization had
begun.  Mulder was impressed by his openness, and commented on it. 
The Elder shrugged and smiled slightly.

"It is not our way to disregard what our eyes tell us is real.  I
have seen this - and my eyes do not lie to me.  They have lived a
long time viewing the world around me, and they know the difference
between a dream, and reality.  I may want to run from the reality
they see... but where would I go?  It is all around me."  Jon stood
up and stretched his stiff limbs, then went to a glass-enclosed
cupboard in the corner of the room and unlocked it with a key he
pulled from his pants pocket.  Reaching into the cupboard, he brushed
aside a sheaf of papers and small wooden and ivory carvings, and
extracted a box.  Bringing it over to the sofa he sat down between
Mulder and Bill, and flipped open the hinged lid of the box, to
reveal two small ivory circlets, intricately carved.  He picked up
the larger one and held it out to Mulder, who slowly took it between
two fingers and held it up for Bill and Skinner to see. 

The ring was beyond lovely - it was a true work of art. Almost one-
half inch wide, the rounded band was carved with a repeating pattern
of whales cavorting through tiny breaking waves; over the whales flew
several birds with their wings majestically outspread.  Mulder
couldn't imagine anyone having the patience - not to mention the
talent - to carve something this detailed and tiny.  He murmured his
awe out loud, and Jon Honea smiled and bowed formally in thanks.

"I thank you.  This is a tribal bonding ring, made of walrus ivory
and used in Inupiaq wedding ceremonies.  The carving method is called
scrimshaw, which is achieved by scratching the ivory in designs and
then filling the scratches with fine black ash.  The whales swimming
in the ocean represent a long and fertile life - and the ravens
flying over the sea protect the wearer and guide them through life's
waters.  Ravens are sacred to us.  They are the wisest and most
determined of all bird species, because they do not migrate - they
will not leave their home.  They find ways to live in arctic
temperatures, and above all they survive."  The old preacher shook
his head when Mulder would have given back the ring, and instead
pressed his fingers together around the ring, trapping it in his
palm.  At Mulder's look of confusion, Jon Honea smiled again.

"This ring should belong to someone who stands for its constancy...
someone who is determined to love - to survive and to relish each day
left on this great earth.  I carved them last year, after a dream I
had.  I dreamed of a day of terror and pain, although I could not see
the source of that pain.  But I was told in my dream to make the
bonding rings, that someone would have need of them soon.  I think
you and your Dana have need - and if you like them they are yours, to
use in your bonding ceremony." With that, the Elder dipped into the
box and pulled out the smaller ring, identically carved - placing it
into Mulder's palm next to its mate.  Overwhelmed, Mulder picked up
the larger circlet of smooth warm ivory and slipped it on his hand -
and it was a perfect fit.  Somehow, he wasn't a bit surprised - and
he had a feeling the other ring would fit Scully's small fingers just
right.  He clasped the old man's shoulders, and tried to find words
to express his gratitude... but the Elder waved them away.  

"You will repay me by taking my Mary to safety - this promise of
yours I will hold you to, Mr. Mulder.  When the time comes, you will
keep her safe for me."  His earnest gaze fell on Mulder and then
Bill, who nodded solemnly - and then lingered on Skinner, who met
that wise stare and found himself nodding as well.  Agreeing to
something, but to what he wasn't quite sure - and finding that it
really didn't matter at all.  Whatever he'd agreed to... it was
right.  Skinner cleared away the sudden lump in his throat, and his
words came out in a croak.

"You'll come with us, Mr. Honea.  We will need spiritual guidance -
and your daughter needs her father."  It wasn't a request, but more
of an order; Skinner was at heart still that tough ex-Marine.  And
Jon Honea responded with grace and dignity, as he turned to Skinner,
and bowed slightly.

"I thank you."

***************

~ Chapter Sixteen ~

Scully allowed herself to be pulled upstairs by the two women and
she obediently sank down onto the bed in Mary's room.  Mary held up
one hand and left, reappearing moments later with a garment bag
folded over her arm.  She laid the bag reverently across the mattress
and lowered the zipper to reveal a wedding dress.  She shook the
folds of the dress out and held it up for Scully and Tara to see. 
Most likely a pure white when it was new, the fabric had mellowed to
a creamy, softer hue.  

"It was my mother's," Mary explained.  She held the dress out.  "I
don't think she'd mind."  Scully forced a smile, shrinking away from
the idea of wearing the dress of a woman she had never met - a woman,
who even now, was lying dead in a greenhouse several yards away, her
body ravaged by the alien virus. 

"It's beautiful," she said honestly.  "But since the groom will be
wearing his 'best jeans' I think something a little less formal would
be appropriate."  Mary nodded and turned toward the closet.  

"Most of my wardrobe is very casual.  Jeans and sweaters or my
nurse's uniforms," she said as she plunged her hands into the back of
the closet.  "But I think," she grunted as she tugged at a hanger, "I
have something that you may like."  She yanked hard and stumbled back
as the stubborn hanger came loose.  She turned to face the other
women and eyed Scully critically.

"I weigh a little more than you," she said.  "But this dress is not
fitted and I think it will look wonderful on you."  She pulled the
plastic bag back to display the dress in question.  "Calvin and I
eloped and my mother was very disappointed that she wasn't able to
throw a big wedding for us.  We agreed to have a 'gathering' instead.
It's similar to a family reunion, but includes everyone in the doyon.
She and I made this dress together for me to wear at the gathering." 
Mary held the dress up in front of her and lovingly smoothed her
hands over it.  Her gaze was distant and a tiny, sad smile played
about her lips for a moment.  Shaking free of her reverie, she looked
up and laid the dress across Scully's lap.

"This is called a kuspuk," she told them.  "It's a traditional
Inupiaq costume.  Many of them have hoods and are trimmed with fur. 
This dress holds the happiest of memories for me," she said.  "I
would be honored if you would consider wearing it for your wedding." 
Scully stroked her fingers over the folds of the dress and looked up.

"I'd love to," she said.  Tara gave a tiny whoop and stood, glancing
at her watch.  

"The kids are going to need to take a nap soon," she said. 
"Otherwise, they're likely to fall asleep in the middle of the
ceremony."  Mary nodded and lifted the dress from Scully's lap,
carefully laying it over her arm.

"Why don't we all take an hour or so to rest," she suggested.  She
held a hand out to Scully and helped her to her feet.  "I'll show you
to your rooms," she told the other women.  "I'd like my father to lie
down for a little while as well," she said as she led them into the
hallway.  "The rectory has six bedrooms," she told them.  "So we have
plenty of room."  She nodded her head toward one door.  "That is my
parents' room," she said softly, sadly.  Tara placed a hand on her
shoulder and made a comforting sound and Mary smiled quietly in
response.  

"Mr. Skinner can sleep in this room," she said indicating the room
across the hall from her own. "And the children can stay in here,"
she told Tara as she opened the door to one room, revealing twin
beds.  "You and your husband can take this room," she said pointing
toward the door next to the children's room.  "Bathroom," she
murmured, tapping a door as she continued down the hall.  She pushed
open a door at the far end of the hall. "Dana, you and Mulder will
take this room."

Scully walked into the room and looked around.  The room was spartan
but clean.  A rough-hewn bed stood against one wall covered in a
faded quilt.  A chest of drawers of the same unfinished wood stood
across the room from the bed.  A rocker sat in one corner and a
cheval mirror stood in another.  Mary stepped around her and hung the
dress on the back of the closet door.

"Lie down for a little while," she advised gently as she pulled the
door closed behind her.  Scully toed off her sneakers and curled up
on top of the faded quilt.  She determinedly pushed all negative
thoughts out of her head as she relaxed into the soft pillows,
drifting.

*******

She stirred drowsily as she felt Mulder slip into bed with her. 
"Mary told me you were taking a nap," he whispered, nuzzling her
neck.  "I thought I'd come up and try to score a little premarital
nookie," he growled playfully.  Scully swatted at him half-heartedly
as she pressed her body back into his.  

"In your dreams," she told him as she snuggled deeper into the
pillows.  He rested his chin on her shoulder.  

"Elder Honea gave us wedding rings," he spoke huskily.  She turned
her head curiously.  "I think you'll like them," he added.  

"You aren't going to show them to me?" she asked.  He shook his head
and settled down behind her, curling his arm over her waist.  

"You'll see them soon enough," he told her as he yawned sleepily. 
Scully sighed and went back to pushing any unwanted thoughts out of
her head.  All too soon she was going to have to deal with them, but
for now, she just wanted to rest.

*******

Two hours later, Scully stood before the cheval mirror, studying her
reflection critically in the dimly lit room.  The kuspuk was
beautiful, she admitted grudgingly.  Made of a raw silk in the palest
shade of pink, it had a rounded neckline, above which hung her gold
cross.  The dress hung straight from the shoulders and had full
sleeves that were fitted and cuffed at the wrists.  Starting at her
knees and hanging down almost to her ankles, the dress ended in a
flounced ruffle.  Tiny luminous white seed pearls and silvery, black
hematite beads had been painstakingly stitched around the collar,
cuffs and hem of the dress in an elaborate design.  It was a gorgeous
creation, she knew, and totally not her style.  She thought she might
prefer to wear her jeans and a sweater, as Mulder was, but she was
the bride and she knew the others expected her to play the part. 
Mulder especially seemed eager to see her dressed in some romantic
creation.

Scully had long ago given up her girlhood fantasies of what her
wedding day would be like.  Gone were any thoughts of lace gowns and
gauzy veils.  Buried were ideas of a bouquet of roses and orange
blossoms and a regal march down a long aisle to the swelling strains
of Bach or Mendelssohn.  She had contented herself with the knowledge
that she would share her life with Mulder in one form or another and
had ruthlessly denied herself the dream of a wedding.  But now she
stood alone in an unfamiliar room in a dress that made her feel and
look like a stranger and she wondered how it had come to this.  After
all the pain and suffering; after all of the losses, was it necessary
that she sacrifice that deeply buried dream as well?  Her fingers
nervously worried the beads of her mother's rosary.

"We didn't even get to choose our own wedding rings," she whispered
resentfully to her reflection.  She looked up as someone tapped on
the door.

"Dana?" Tara's voice floated through the door.  "May we come in?"
she asked.  

"Door's open," Scully replied as she composed her face into its
normally placid lines.  She smiled as Tara, Meggie and Mary slipped
into the room.

"The dress is perfect," Tara exclaimed as she circled Scully.  She
plopped Meggie down onto the floor and urged Scully to sit down on
the edge of the mattress.  Scully sat in stoic silence as Tara and
Mary fussed over her hair and makeup.  She slipped her feet into the
beaded moccasins that Mary provided and stood once more, twirling so
that the others could get a look at the final results.

"Pwetty," Meggie declared and the two women concurred.

"You look beautiful, Dana," Tara assured her.  Mary nodded and
smiled even as she took note of the melancholy look in Scully's eyes.
This woman has known more than her share of heartache, Mary thought
as she watched Scully self-consciously smooth the fabric of the dress
over her breasts.  

Tara held out her hand and drew Scully down onto the mattress beside
her.  "Mom's rosary is something old," she said as she touched the
worn beads gently.  "The rings are something new," she continued. 
"Mary's dress is borrowed," she said as she smiled at the nurse
hovering near the chest of drawers.  Tara reached up and removed a
pair of earrings from her ears.  She held them out and the blue
stones winked and glistened even in the dim light.  "Bill gave them
to me when Matty was born," she said.  "They're blue topaz -
December's birthstone.  I never take them off, but if you would like 
to wear them, they can be your something blue."  

Scully smiled genuinely for the first time that day as she gathered
her sister-in-law into her arms.  The two women broke apart as Meggie
burrowed her way into their embrace.  Scully held her niece on her
lap and she tilted her head first one way and then the other as Tara
fastened the jewelry to her ears.

Tara smoothed a stray wisp of hair from Scully's cheek.  "Perfect,"
she pronounced.  Another rap on the door drew everyone's attention.  

"Are you ready?" Bill called impatiently.  Tara scooped Meggie up
and followed Mary to the door.  She blew Scully a kiss.  "We'll see
you downstairs," she said.  Tara smiled at her husband as she breezed
past him and into the hallway.  

Bill cleared his throat as he walked over to his sister and stood
behind her, admiring her reflection in the mirror.  "You look
lovely," he told her. Scully's smile wobbled as she met his eyes in
the glass.  "I wish Mom was here," she choked.  Bill settled his big
hands on her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace.  

"I think she is," he said eyeing their mother's rosary as it dangled
from her hand.  "You ready, Squirt?" he asked, reverting to the hated
childhood nickname he had christened her with when she was six. 
Scully grimaced and slipped her hand into his.  

"Be nice, Bill," she told him haughtily.  "I'm the bride."

*******


Mulder stood at the altar of a church made of rough cedar logs, and
waited for his bride to walk down the aisle, to him - to an uncertain
future.  Next to him Skinner stood solid as one of the cedar beams
holding up the gabled ceiling, and on the other side Tara stood with
Meggie on her hip and Matty holding her hand.  Tears were swimming in
her eyes and her smile was wide in her pretty face.  Mary sat quietly
in the first pew, all the congregation they would have this day.
There was no music - they didn't need it.  There were no flowers -
even if they could have found some that were not bee-infested it
would have been too dangerous to bring them into their sanctuary. 
But flowers were not needed, for the church was ablaze with candles. 
They hung from the ceiling in huge candelabras and wall sconces,
placed on every surface.  With the lights turned off, the glow from
nearly two hundred candles made the warm cedar walls and pews
resemble a Heavenly haven.

"Ready?" Bill asked as he looked down at his sister.  She looked up
at him and nodded.

"Let's go," she said.  Bill threaded her hand through the crook of
his arm and they stepped into view.  The church wasn't large and the
walk down the aisle was a short one.  The sanctuary was silent.  The
only sound Scully could hear was the rustling of the silk of the
dress she had borrowed as she and her brother walked slowly down the
aisle.  She smoothed her free hand over her churning stomach.  Her
nerves were frayed with the events of the last few days - the last
few months to be more accurate - and the silence of the church was a
deafening roar in her ears.  As they stepped closer to the altar, she
was peripherally aware of the others.  Matty was shifting from one
foot to the other, already bored with the ceremony, and Meggie was
sucking her fingers, solemnly watching her father and aunt advance
toward her.  Scully's eyes skimmed over Mary, who was standing in the
first pew, Tara whose eyes shone with tears, Skinner's broadly
smiling face and the gentler smile of Jon Honea.  Her eyes locked
with Mulder's and everything else fell away under his tender gaze. 
Bathed in the golden glow of hundreds of flickering candles, he was
her heart's desire and she knew that nothing else mattered, nothing
but this...

**********************


Down the center aisle Dana Scully walked on the arm of her brother. 
Slowly - stately - they moved toward the altar.  Mulder's heart
pounded in his chest at the sight of her.  Lovely beyond any measure,
her hair piled loosely on her head and the dress swishing gently
around her legs... he'd never seen anything half as lovely.  His to
cherish - his to love.  His to protect and to work with, side by side
- his to fight for.  

Scully.  In a dress she'd had to borrow from another woman, and a
stranger at that - how he wished it could have been different.  All
women dreamed and planned their wedding day - he figured Scully had 
done her share of dreaming.  A lovely white gown and a filmy veil,
and carrying flowers; walking down the aisle of her childhood church
on the arm of her father, the man she'd lovingly called Ahab.
Suddenly he could see it all through her eyes, and the image he
conjured up was sweet and beautiful and would never happen...

Then as she and Bill neared the front of the altar and he could see
into her eyes, it didn't matter anymore.  The lack of flowers and the
silence of the church, the bitter knowledge of what lay outside the
hallowed walls of this rough-hewn building - none of it mattered, for
Scully's face was radiant and her eyes were brimming with love for
him and her chin was held high as she came toward him, to be claimed
by him in God's house.  Nothing else mattered, nothing but this...

Mulder's heart was bursting with pride.

The ceremony itself was short but emotional.  Jon Honea had decided
to forsake traditional vows, maintaining that his old eyes could not
read the book very well.  He'd asked them to make their own vows,
very wisely knowing that these people needed to tell each other the
true measure of their hearts - and if they got caught up in the
standard 'I Take Thee' phrases, then that's all there would be -
phrases.  Jon Honea had a feeling this man and this woman had much
more to say to each other.

And they did.

Side by side they stood, surrounded by candles and family and
dearest friends, new and old.  Maggie Scully's rosary hung from
Scully's left wrist, wound around three times with the crucifix
dangling down her arm.  It gave her comfort, as if her mother was
right at her left elbow, watching and approving.  She and Mulder held
hands and turned to face each other when Jon Honea motioned to them,
and they stared into each other's eyes with a force almost tangible. 
In the candlelight Dana Scully glowed as if surrounded by the aurora
borealis itself, and Mulder was mute with awe and humbled by the
power of this simple bonding ceremony.  He had never given a lot of
thought to weddings - had never cared one way or another.   

He sure cared now... 

Asked to speak his vows first, Mulder slipped one of his hands out
of Scully's grasp, and tenderly lifted her face to his.  The words he
spoke were from one of his favorite poems; more and more lately he'd
found snippets of poetry running through his head whenever he thought
of Dana Scully.  Today was no different.  Locking his gaze with hers,
Mulder took a deep breath - and smiled - and his low voice was full
of wonder and adoration as he spoke from his heart.

'I love you - not only for what you are, but for what I am
When I am with you.

'I love you - not only for what you have made of yourself, but for
what
You are making of me.

'I love you for the part of me that you bring out; I love you
For putting your hand into my heaped-up heart and passing over
All the foolish, weak things that you can't help dimly seeing there,
And for drawing out into the light all the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked quite far enough to find.

'I love you because you are helping me to make of the lumber of my
life
Not a tavern but a temple; out of the works of my every day -
Not a reproach but a song.

'I love you because you have done more than any creed could have done
To make me good, and more than any fate could have done 
To make me happy...'

It was hard to see through the film of tears that rose up in his
eyes as he spoke, but he blinked and they slipped down his cheeks as
his voice whispered to a stop and Scully leaned forward, up on her
tiptoes - and pressed her damp cheeks to his, and kissed him.  One on
his mouth and one on each eye, then wiping the lipstick from his lips
with her thumbs, she stood back, and waited for him to continue -
somehow understanding he wasn't quite through.  Mulder smiled... she
knew him so well.  He took her hands and raised them to his lips,
speaking against her fingers.

"I will never leave you.  I will never hurt you.  I will never lose
sight of my incredible fortune - that you could somehow love me
enough to stay - enough to fight - enough to take my hand and face an
unknown future with courage and fortitude.  I will cherish our time
together and I will make you so happy - I will do this for you,
because I love you - I honor you - and I adore you."

Scully's throat was tight with unshed tears as Mulder's whispered
vows vibrated against her fingertips.  She swallowed hard around the
lump in her throat.  She had tried to think of her vows when she had
been resting earlier, but the words wouldn't come.  Now she took one
step closer to him, her body brushing his, closer perhaps than was
decent in a church, but she needed the physical contact.  She lowered
a small hand and placed it in the center of his chest.  She could
feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm and she relaxed as
she began to speak.

"You know that it's difficult for me to express my emotions," she
began.  Her lips quirked up in a tiny, self-mocking grin as she
continued.  "A few minutes ago, I was feeling sorry for myself.  I
was thinking about all of the things that were wrong with this day. 
A rushed wedding in borrowed clothes. No flowers, no music - in a
strange town in a world gone mad.  I told myself that we had
sacrificed enough.  That we had lost enough.  I wanted to know why it
was necessary that we had to sacrifice our wedding day as well."

She could see a hint of sadness lurking in Mulder's eyes and she
curled her fingers into his shirt.  "And then I saw you standing
here, waiting for me.  You were looking at me with such love and you
seemed so... content.  You were just happy.  Happy because I had
agreed to become your wife.  Just that one little thing and I could
see a calm and peacefulness settle over you that I have never seen
before."  She took his other hand and wound his arm around her waist.
"Everything became crystal clear to me.  At that moment... at this
moment, I want nothing more from this life than to see that
expression of your face every day and to know that I am the reason
for it."  She smiled and one tear slipped down her cheek.

"You once told me that the truth was in me.  You also said that the
truth would save me - that it would save us both."  Her tears were
falling faster now and Scully raised her hand to knuckle them away. 
"The truth is that I love you Mulder.  I've loved you for years and
only now am I smart enough to proclaim it to the world."  She lowered
her voice to a whisper and kept her eyes locked on his.

"I, Dana Katherine Scully, take you, Fox William Mulder, to be my
husband.  I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in
sickness and in health.  I will love you and keep you all the days of
my life."  She threw a glance toward the others gathered in a tight
circle around them.

"I know we're supposed to wait, but..." She stretched up on her toes
and brushed her lips across Mulder's in a quick kiss, grinning up at
him happily.  She slipped her hands back into his warm fingers and
locked her gaze with his...

Vaguely Mulder registered the world around him as he stood at the
altar and held his woman's hands - the soft crying of Tara and the
quiet murmuring of Bill as he patted his wife on the back and cradled
a sleeping Meggie in his arm.  Skinner, standing slightly behind him
smiling broadly.  Out of the corner of his eye Mulder noted his
grinning ex-AD, and it warmed him even more as he took the first ring
from Jon Honea.  When he placed it on Scully's finger she stared at
the lovely creation with wide eyes - eyes which overflowed yet again
as she took in the unique beauty of her wedding ring.  With trembling
hands she took Mulder's ring from the Elder's hand, and placed it on
his finger.  Together they murmured the final vow, face to face and
with hands linked together as Jon Honea wrapped an Inupiaq ceremonial
bonding sash around their hands.  Made of tanned leather and
decorated with hundreds of beads, the sash was a piece of art in
itself.

With hands bound together they spoke in unison. 

"With my body I worship - with my heart I adore - with my life I
love - with my soul, forever bind myself to you..."

And still bound hand to hand and heart to heart... they kissed.

********

The wedding party spilled from the church back into the rectory
where everyone took their turn shaking hands with the groom and
kissing the bride.

"I think the occasion calls for a celebratory dinner," Mary
announced.  Scully looked over at the other woman and frowned.

"Mary - no.  Please, we've put you through enough trouble already,"
she protested.  Mary shook her head.

"Nonsense.  It won't be anything fancy," she warned.  "I have some
tomato sauce in the freezer.  It won't take long to thaw."  She
stepped closer to Scully and laid a hand on hers.  Despite the fact
that she was a few years younger than Scully, her eyes held the
wisdom of a much older woman.

"You need to learn to find the small moments of joy and hold onto
them with both hands," she murmured softly.  "I think it would be
good for everyone to stretch this celebration out at least for a
little while longer.  Tomorrow reality will come crashing back down
on all of us.  We have to take the respites when they come." 

Scully squeezed the other woman's hand and nodded.  "What can I do
to help?" she asked.  Mary threw her a look of mock horror.

"You are the bride," she said in a scandalized voice.  "You are to
do nothing but stand there and look radiant," she told her.  Turning
to the others, she began to herd them toward the kitchen.  "As for
the rest you, however," she said, "you can all come this way and help
me put this little reception together."

Scully turned toward Mulder and leaned lightly against him as the
sound of laughing voices and clanging pots and pans emanated from the
kitchen.  He smoothed his hand over her hair and looked down at her
with laughing eyes.  His smile faded as he took in the intensity of
her gaze.  Scully's head was tilted back and tiny wisps of hair had
come loose to frame her face.  Her eyes were smoky and heavy-lidded
as she stretched up to wind her arms around his neck and draw his
face down to hers.  Her mouth moved over his softly, her lips
clinging moistly to his before she teased his mouth open.  Mulder
groaned against her mouth as he banded his arms around her waist,
hauling her closer.  

Scully broke off the kiss, sucking his bottom lip between her teeth
for a moment before sinking back down onto her heels.  Her eyes moved
hungrily over his face as she scratched her nails lightly over the
back of his neck.  

"How much time do you think we have before dinner is ready?" she
asked as she flicked her eyes toward the stairs.  Mulder moaned and
dropped his head into the curve of her neck, pressing his lips
against the pulse pounding under her jaw.

"Not enough," he told her.  Lifting his head, he studied her face
with glittering eyes.  "Once I get you out of that dress, I'm not
going to let you put anything back on for the rest of the night," he
warned.  Scully sighed and rested her cheek against his chest.

"I just want to be alone with you," she whispered into his shirt. 
Mulder shivered as he felt her fingers slip under his shirt to stroke
his belly.  A strangled sound escaped his throat as he pushed her
away.  He expected to see a teasing smile on her face and a jolt of
lust surged through him as he took in her slumberous eyes and
slightly swollen lips.  She swayed toward him and he groaned as he
glanced at his watch, wondering how rude it would be to eat quickly
and then drag Scully up to their room.  Surely the others would
understand...

*********

In the end, they stayed downstairs longer than they expected. 
Dinner had been a raucous affair filled with the clinking of
silverware, the chatter of the adults and the high-pitched giggles
and shrieks of the children. Jon Honea had contributed a bottle of
wine to the dinner and a toast was made to the bride and groom.  

After dinner was finished and the dishes cleaned up, they settled in
the living room, stuffed with pasta and salad.  Cooling cups of
coffee and empty bowls of ice cream littered the tables in the living
room.  Skinner was sitting on the sofa, Meggie sleeping peacefully on
his shoulder as he conversed in low tones with Mary and her father. 
Bill and Tara were settled on the loveseat, whispering softly to one
another, and she stroked Matty's hair as he lay with his head in her
lap.  Mulder's eyes roved over the small group gathered around him,
holding his bride who was curled up in his lap as he rested in a
chair in one corner of the room.  She was quiet in his arms and he
would have believed her asleep if it were not for the rhythmic
stroking of her fingers under the collar of his shirt and the tiny
kisses she was pressing into his neck.

Skinner turned his head and met Mulder's eyes.  Standing, he
stretched and addressed the gathering.  

"We've got a long day ahead of us," he said.  "I suggest we finish
cleaning up and get to bed."  He bit back a laugh as Scully's head
eagerly popped up from her husband's shoulder.  She leaned forward to
collect their empty coffee cups and Mary stayed her hand.

"Go on up," she said softly.  "We've got this."  Skinner, Mary and
her father carried the dirty dishes into the kitchen, while Bill and
Tara gathered up their sleeping children.  

"Good night," Tara whispered over Meggie's tousled hair as she
pressed her lips first to Mulder's cheek, then Scully's.  "We'll see
you in the morning," she said as she followed Bill up the stairs.

Mulder waited until he heard the bedroom door close behind the
little family and then he grabbed his wife's hand, hauling her
eagerly up the stairs behind him.

At the top of the stairs he swept her up into his arms and carried
her those few final feet to their room.  He never broke eye contact
with her as he pushed the door wide with one foot, and brought her
inside.  Setting her down gently upon the faded quilt, Mulder turned
back to the door and locked it - then bolted it.  When he faced
Scully again, she was leaning back on the bed, smiling - and blushing.

She was blushing.  Mulder was enchanted by the pink of her cheeks,
as shy as any bride on her wedding night.  It was amazing and
wonderful, that this woman should blush for him now, at this moment
in the beginning of their lives together.  Mulder just stood and
stared for several seconds, before murmuring, "Oh, Scully... I'm
going to love you into oblivion and back... and then I'm gonna start
all over again and reverse the route.  You're not gonna know what hit
you..."

Scully smiled up at him with hot eyes as he leaned over her, and
purred out a low, "Bring it on, FBI-Boy..."  Brave words considering
her cheeks were still pink as a rose.  Her hair had come unpinned and
fanned the pillow under her head, and the hem of the borrowed kuspuk
had crept up past her knees.  There were small shadows under her eyes
and she looked tired and vulnerable - and gorgeous beyond anything
he'd ever seen.  She wore a band of scrimshaw ivory around her ring
finger and she was his, finally his.  

Mulder found himself unable to get past the wonder of just that. 
And he had to admit to himself that marriage made all the difference.
Why, he might never understand.  He just knew it did.  

His wife. Dana.  Thank you, God...

With hands that trembled just a little he slipped off her beaded
moccasins one by one, fingers stroking the high instep of her small
feet.  He raised one to his face and pressed his lips to the graceful
arch, the faint cling of leather not an unpleasant smell.  Scully
squirmed a little, ticklish it would seem - but she stared at him
unblinkingly and didn't stop him.  He murmured against her little
toes, "These are my wife's toesies..." 

She giggled.  The sound was delightful.

He ran a lazy tongue up the inside of Scully's leg, tasting her soft
skin, nuzzling here and there on the journey if a certain spot caught
his interest.  She sighed raggedly as his tongue swirled over her
sensitive skin.  He nudged aside the soft silk of her dress as he
moved north toward the one frontier he wanted so badly to conquer...
to find when he got there and lifted the kuspuk above her hips that
she -

"- No panties... Scully, you're not wearing panties!  When did you
take them off?" She smiled wickedly, pleased to have surprised him. 
He stared up at her, propped against the pillows with the most
alluring, naughtiest look on her face.  Her soft response about did
him in.

"Kuspuks are meant to be worn without under-apparel, Mulder..."  His
eyes widened as he sent a hand up past her hips and slid them into
the rounded neckline of her dress, to find... bare nipple.

Holy shit.  How could he have not known?  When she had leaned
against him as she recited her vows.  When he took her in his arms
at the altar, and kissed her - when she stood next to him during their
wedding supper and her body had curved so sweetly underneath his
arm... she'd been naked underneath that pretty silk dress, all that
time.

Mulder found the imagery incredibly erotic and so much of a turn on
that he moaned as he slid back down her body, and took the dainty
heart of her into his mouth.  She gasped and arched against him,
fingers winding through his hair as he kissed and licked at her tiny
clit.  He'd never tasted anything so pure and clean, so perfect.  He
hummed into her as he stroked her wet flesh and her hips rose off the
bed as she began to shudder. 

God, he was amazing, she thought as she shook and quivered under his
talented mouth.  She turned her face into the pillow, stifling a moan
as he lifted her leg over his shoulder.  His mouth moved softly,
insistently over her, taking what he wanted.  She chanted his name in
a choppy whisper as she gave herself over to him. 

This was his wedding night... he wanted it to last for hours.  With
one last small suckle Mulder released her and gently removed the
kuspuk before it got any more wrinkled.  He laid it carefully on the
end of the bed and stayed on his knees next to Scully, drinking in
the sight of her glowing body there on the faded quilt.  God...  His
words came out in almost a growl of need.

"Undress me, Scully..." She rose up again on her elbows and her
smile was brilliant in its intensity.

"Gladly, Husband..." The unfamiliar yet welcome term made him smile...

She knelt on the mattress and motioned for Mulder to stand. "Shoes,"
she instructed and he toed them off, kicking them under the bed. His
knees shook and he pressed them into the side of the mattress as she
crawled across the quilt to him.  Scully rose up on her knees and
slid her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, curling them under
the hem of his shirt.  She placed her palms flat against his stomach
and slid them up his chest, using the backs of her wrists to push his
shirt up.

"Lift," she whispered and he obediently raised his arms into the
air.  Scully's breasts brushed against his bare chest as she
stretched up to tug the shirt from his upraised arms.  She tossed the
shirt toward the rocker in the corner of the room and slid back down
his torso, her hands skimming over the silky skin of his back.  She
sank down onto her heels and popped the metal button of his jeans
open with a flick of her fingers.  She slid the zipper slowly past
his erection and curled her fingers into the waistband of his jeans
and boxers, pushing them down his legs, her hair brushing across his
belly and thighs as she did so.

She sat back on her heels again and glanced down at the clothing
pooled around his calves.  She smiled and quirked a brow at him
before lowering her hands to the mattress and crawling backward to
make room for him.  She rose up on her knees again and looked down at
the empty place on the bed beside her.  She reached up to the pillows
and tugged the quilt out from beneath them, pushing it toward the
foot of the bed.  She plumped both pillows and stacked them against
the headboard, lying back against them and pulling him down into her
arms.  

Scully sighed and arched her body into his, loving the feel of his
heavy weight pressing her into the cool sheets beneath her.  She
traced the curve of his ear with her tongue, biting down gently on
the lobe.  She could feel his penis pressing against her eagerly.

"No - wait," she said, pushing her hands against his shoulders. 
Mulder's head lifted and he moaned her name pleadingly.  She pushed
against his chest again, forcing him to roll over.  His back rested
against the pillows and he tried to pull her back into his arms, but
she evaded his grip.  She slipped down his body and his hips jerked
as she slid him into her mouth.

"Scul--" he moaned.  "Nuh... don't."  She lifted her head and peered
at him through a veil of tangled hair.

"Shhh," she whispered, bending back to her task.  Her mouth moved
with the same soft insistence over his body as he'd done to her only
moments earlier.  Using her mouth and hands, she demanded that he
give himself over to her as she had given herself to him.  And with a
muffled curse and a final shudder of his body, he did so. 

Scully pressed an open-mouthed kiss against his quivering stomach
and slid up his length.  Leaning against the pillows, she drew his
sweaty body into her arms, holding him as he struggled to bring his
breathing back under control.  

Mulder's lashes fluttered open and hazel eyes met blue as his hands
began roaming her body again.  She cupped the back of his neck in her
palm and pulled him toward her.  

"I love you," she sighed against his mouth.

Slow and easy they built it up between them.  Hands and fingers
stroking soft skin and hard flesh, slipping into damp heated folds
and nuzzling sweet scented curves.  All the time in the world...
tonight it was theirs.  The clock would cease to tick and the stars
would suspend themselves in the black sky outside the window of the
room where they consummated their marriage... and for Mulder it was
their first time as man and wife and that made it new and sweet and
fresh.

Every inch of her had to be kissed and each small spot of skin
deserved nothing less than his full attention.  He twisted shaky
fingers into her damp red hair and held her face close for his kiss -
not that she would have moved away.  Her lips clung to his as he
traced the fullness of her mouth and slid his tongue inside to twine
around hers.  He could taste himself in her mouth and the flavor of
it reminded him anew of her unselfishness during the loving.  And her
generosity was never more apparent - and treasured - than when she
cupped him between two warm hands as they kissed feverishly and the
feeling built, and built.  

When Mulder moved up and over her body Scully released him and
curled her fingers into the firm skin of his cheeks, holding him as
he slipped into her body on one long eager glide.  She wound her legs
about his hips as he moved deeply, the tight sheath of her welcoming
him home.  They locked eyes as they rose and fell against each other,
now gently, now fiercely - and she matched him thrust for thrust and
kiss for kiss, when the need to connect fully became greater than the
desire to see with their eyes.  

And when Scully began to shudder all around him; when the tension
snapped within her and she cried out her release into his open mouth,
Mulder anchored her spinning world with a driving, adoring body, and
followed her over into the abyss.  

Home, both of them... home.

******************

~ Chapter Seventeen ~

The morning they left Whitehorse was overcast and wet, as if the
heavens above were overflowing with tears they would not shed.

Mary knew the feeling.

She had awoken very early, as was customary - had started coffee and
made sourdough johnnie cakes with birch syrup.  Hard to say when
they'd eat a decent breakfast again, since the eateries between
Whitehorse and Fairbanks left a lot to be desired.  While the coffee
brewed Mary packed frozen caribou steaks and dried jerky, ground-up
moose and rabbit tenders into a large ice chest built into the back
of her GMC van.  She added a lump of hand-churned butter and crammed
all the nooks full of dry ice.  Then she found a large box and filled
it with as many canned and boxed foodstuffs as she could find -
remembering to throw salt and pepper and assorted spices into the
box.  She rummaged through the rectory dinnerware and found the
plastic dishes kept on hand for the day care children, and tossed
them in as well - figuring nobody would mind eating off a Big Bird
plate or drinking from Mickey's cup.  Lastly, she grabbed up her
favorite lace-trimmed napkins and matching tablecloth and laid it on
top of the full box.  She fingered the napkins gently.  The set had
belonged to her mother, and Mary closed her eyes as she heard again
her mother's voice, admonishing her to 'Put out the good napkins,
Mary!  We aren't heathens to be wiping our mouths off with paper!'

Mary dabbed at her eyes as she stood in her mother's kitchen and
listened to her soft, no nonsense voice.  Anna would have wanted her
to use the good stuff... Anna would want her to be brave and put a
smile upon her face.  But it was hard... so very hard.  Even Calvin's
death had been easier to accept - he'd died while doing something
he'd loved - trapping.  But this... God. 

She jumped when her father's gnarled hand touched the back of her
neck and lingered there, warm and reassuring against her skin.  Mary
turned herself into her father's embrace and sobbed quietly.  The
first time she'd truly shown her grief, poor child.  She had lost a
husband and a mother... Jon Honea rocked his daughter in his arms and
let her spend her sorrow.  Better to work it all out now, and then go
forward with a clean mind and a healing heart...

Except it was so very hard... given the way his Anna had died.  If a
disease had taken her he could have reconciled it in his mind. If it
had been an accident, he could even have found a way to accept.  But
this... too monstrous - too much for him.  An alien murdering, sent
to them by that most innocent and hard-working insect, the
honeybee... Jon Honea felt the first, scalding flow of tears spring
from his eyes and he wept, there on his daughter's strong shoulder. 
His turn to be comforted - his turn to be rocked.  In the silent
kitchen in the still-dark of an early September morning, the Honeas
found their own way of saying good-bye.

Upstairs in the guest bedrooms the first stirrings of wakefulness
could be heard, as the smell of the food and the hot coffee wafted up
through the floor vents.  Under the faded quilt in the bedroom
farthest down the hall, Mulder stretched and yawned as he awoke
slowly - warm and content, snuggled into the curve of his wife's
little body, her hand holding him.

Holding him...  Mulder looked down with half-opened eyes, at the
sight of his early-morning tumescence being cradled by one of
Scully's hands.  Behind him her breathing was deep and her body
relaxed; Mulder wondered if she'd been aware of clasping him in her
sleep.  Well it didn't matter... it felt very good to be held this
way, waking up in the early hours of morning under layers of blankets
and soft sheets - with your wife's delicate hands holding you.

Then he felt her lips moving along his shoulderblades... and knew
she'd been awake the entire time.  Brat... he pretended to doze,
lying very still and keeping his breathing very even, curious to see
what she would do next.  She didn't keep him waiting long, for she
slid a foot along his calf muscle as she moved a leg over his hip,
and pressed her moist center against his cheeks.

Mulder fought to stay still.

Her tongue traced a feather-light path from one shoulder to the next
as her hand began stroking him with tender authority, and try as he
might Mulder couldn't keep from rocking his hips back into her.  And
just as he was about to flip over and pin her down... Scully bit his
neck, and growled into the mark she left there.

"You're awake, Mulder... quit playing possum and prepare to meet
your doom..."  Mulder huffed a snorting laugh into his pillow and
reached down to grasp her hand and press it into his hard flesh, then
he did what he'd been wanting to do since he'd first awoken:  he
flipped Scully around and pinned her underneath him in one smooth
move.  He grinned into her flushed face.

"My 'doom'?  If that's a sampling of what's in store for me... then
you can 'doom' me anytime, Baby..."  With that he slid down her body,
until he could reach her silky curls - and he buried his face against
her and breathed in the pure female scent of Scully.  She wriggled
against him and her voice came out in a scandalized squeak.

"Mulder... ewww!  That can't be very fragrant down there..."  Mulder
held her hips firm, and his muffled reply vibrated into her, making
her shiver.

"You taste like thick cream, Scully - and I haven't had breakfast
yet.  Now shut up and let me enjoy my meal..."  He pressed her back
down into the blankets and allowed his mouth and tongue to show her
how much he loved doing this to her... how he adored her response. 
She sent one last question his way before she wisely obeyed his
command.

"Can I at least moan now and again if you hit a good spot?"  

His sigh was long-suffering and martyred.

"If you must..."


They were the last to come down for breakfast.  Mulder ignored the
knowing smiles and winks as he led Scully by the hand into the
kitchen, and seated her next to him.  He glanced at her face as she
laid her napkin across her lap and laughed aloud at the blush he saw
there.  

He felt so good...

Skinner and Bill teased the shit out of them all during breakfast,
while Tara held Meggie and fed her tiny bites of pancake and Matty
sat on Scully's knee and slurped orange juice.  During the course of
the meal Scully's face went from just pink to flaming red as the
remarks got more and more bawdy; finally when Matty piped up with an
insistent, "Aunt Dana! Why did you need your brains screwed out?
Don't they stay in your head okay without screws?"... Scully drew the
line.  She jumped to her feet with Matty in her arms, and shouted to
the entire table.

"Stop it, you morons!  Little pitchers have big ears, you know!" 
Trying her best to keep the frown of censure on her face, she lost it
when she turned to glare at Mulder, and he responded by waggling his
eyebrows and tongue at her in perfect syncopated time.  Scully
collapsed into her chair and pushed her face into Matty's neck,
ignoring his screeches that she was tickling him... and laughed
herself silly.

Hearing her peals of laughter made Mulder feel even better.

It was still very early when they began packing the rest of the gear
they would need for their trip.  The sky was just turning pearly with
sunrise and the breeze was nippy but bracing.  The smell of winter
hung in the air and it wouldn't be much longer before the first
cleansing snow would fall and blanket Whitehorse... and hide the look
of death still in the streets. 

Tara helped Mary pack sleeping bags into the big van; they'd flipped
down the last row of seats and piled the bags over the ice chest,
affording more insulation for the dry ice.  They would stop and
replenish as needed but for now the dry ice would last a long time. 
Mary had lots of sleeping bags and they decided to take all of them.  

In the back of the Ford Mulder and Bill made room for more clothes
and various supplies by folding down the far back seats and
rearranging what they already had.  Jon and Mary had packed lightly
but still they had a lot to bring.  Nobody wanted to see them leave
anything behind.  

It had been decided that Skinner would travel with the Honeas, in
their van, and help Mary with driving.  Jon's eyesight was not good
enough for him to drive, and Skinner knew they would feel much safer
if he went with them.  Besides, it would give him a chance to get to
know them better... especially Mary Honea.  Skinner admitted to
himself a fascination for Mary.  She was outwardly tough one minute
and soft as could be the next.  She was a challenge.

Skinner liked challenges...

Mary had wanted to drive by the clinic and grab up as much as she
could carry of the assorted drugs and first-aid items she knew were
available, but her father talked her out of it.  Jon Honea claimed
his left elbow was twitching, a sign of bad luck.  He expressed an
urgency to be on the road and nobody questioned his superstitions. 
They had all seen enough, to believe in almost anything...

They wheeled out of the driveway of the rectory with Bill driving
and Skinner following.  Mary turned one last time to look her fill
upon the church that had comforted her as a child and sustained her
as a young widow.  Tears slipped down her cheeks as she whispered a
soft, "I love you, Mama" into the silent air of the van.  And she
startled a bit when Skinner's big hand curved around both of hers,
clasped together in an attitude of prayer.  He never said a word...
never turned his eyes to look at her.  He just kept on driving.  But
he sent her sympathy in the hand holding hers... and for that Mary
was grateful.

They drove west, toward another border. This time when they went
through no one stopped them.  The guard in the booth was dead, as
were the inspectors who normally stood out in front of the main
building.  Deserted and eerily quiet, the border crossing lent them
yet another reminder to hurry and move out.  They crossed and found
themselves in Alaska.

The Al-Can highway was only a two-lane road, but it might as well
have been four or six lanes - in the twelve hours it took for them to
drive to Fairbanks they only saw two other vehicles.  The weather
held and it didn't rain, but it got colder as they moved farther
north.

 They stopped twice for gas and cold drinks, but each time the
places they stopped seemed deserted.  Thankfully the pumps still
worked using credit and so they were able to fill up without incident
- but Mulder had no way of knowing if he'd ever receive a bill. 
Trust him to think about bills when the world was falling down around
them, he thought derisively.  

An hour outside of Fairbanks, the van hit a pothole in the uneven,
frost-heaved road - and popped a tire and a hubcap.  Bill had been
driving the Ford and saw it happen, mumbling, "Shit - blowout!"  He
stopped the big truck at the side of the road and backed up to where
the van had pulled over; Mulder got out carefully, glancing all
around for bees.  He didn't see any, and motioned Scully out of the
Ford.  They walked back to the van and stopped Mary from getting out,
having her just roll down her window instead.

"Mary, stay put.  Just tell us where the spare is and we'll take
care of it."  Mary stared at Mulder as he spoke.

"I want to help!  It's my van.  Why should you do my job for me?  I
hit the pothole!"   She looked at Skinner as if to inquire why he
wasn't already out there, changing the flat.  Skinner sighed and
attempted to explain.

"Mary, we can't go out.  We're not immune to the virus.  But Mulder
is - and we are reasonably sure that Scully is as well - she was
exposed to it a few years ago.  If we get stung, we die.  If Mulder
or Scully suffer a sting, the most they'll get is a fever and some
really nasty vomiting sessions."  Scully nodded reassuringly and
pressed Mary's hand where it lay on the open window.

"Walter is right, Mary.   Roll up the window and don't worry, okay? 
Mulder and I will be just fine."  Mary nodded and rolled up the
window, smiling slightly when Mulder, walking to the back of the van
swinging Scully's hand, propositioned his wife outrageously.

Hey, little girl... ever get tumbled underneath a fine, American-
made automo-bile?"  Scully's giggle and her snappy, "In your wet
dreams, Mulder..." came floating back to her ears.  Mary's grin faded
as she tried to reconcile herself to never finding another man to
joke with and tease - and love - again...  And her eyes fell on
Skinner, who stared back silently - and she shivered.

Fairbanks was at deep twilight, almost fully dark when they rolled
inside the city limits.   The Richardson Highway was empty of cars,
and there were no streetlamps lit along the Steese Expressway. 
Scully held Meggie, asleep in her arms, and peered through the
darkened windows trying to see any sign of life at all.  Aside from
the inevitable bodies fallen along the roads and in the streets,
Fairbanks was another tomb.

Spotting a hotel along the road, Bill turned into the parking lot
and killed the engine, noting Skinner had followed suit.  Tara peered
up at the partially-lit marquee.  "The Regency Hotel - looks nice. 
Should we chance it?"  Mulder nodded, and wiped at his eyes wearily.

"We need a good nights' sleep.  This is as good a place as any. 
Fairbanks is the second-largest city in Alaska but it's still pretty
small.  I have no idea how many hotels we'd find.  We're here; let's
just do it."  He helped Scully out of the cab and took the still-
sleeping Meggie from her arms, then roused Matty.  Around the back of
the vehicle came Mary and Skinner, with Jon Honea following slowly. 
Mary nodded approvingly at the choice of hotel.

"This is a nice place.  My brother James worked summers here when he
was putting himself through college at the university.  I have
thought of him twice today, wondering - hoping - he has found a way
to survive."  As she spoke Mary led them through the thick glass
double doors of the hotel and into the spacious lobby.  Skinner was
curious about the rest of the Honea clan, and asked where they lived.

"Well, James lives in Colorado - Aspen.  John Jr. lives in Juneau
with his wife and two children, and my youngest brother, David, has a
farm in Kentucky.  My sister Flora lives in Newfoundland with her
family and my oldest sister Pamela is in Italy; her husband is in the
Air Force and stationed there.  I have tried over the past week to
call them - and I get no answer, anywhere.  The not knowing is far
worse than the realization that they may all be... gone..."  her
voice trailed off and Scully moved to her side and wound a bracing
arm around her, hugging her tightly.  Bill stepped closer as well and
placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.  Scully spoke on a broken
thread of empathy.

"Oh, Mary... we know."

There wasn't a clerk on duty and no one to be found in the immediate
vicinity, so they helped themselves to door keys and found rooms
clustered together in the second floor.  The rooms were adequate,
nothing fancy - this was an older hotel.  Mary helped to settle her
father in the second bedroom of the only suite they could find, and
stood outside the door with Skinner while the others unlocked rooms
and called out 'Goodnight' to each other.

Mary found herself suddenly shy and unable to meet the eyes of the
man who had traveled the last twelve or more hours with them; had
insisted on driving for all of the trip and had patiently dealt with
her father when he needed help at the rest stops.  She had been
painfully aware of him sitting next to her, his big strong hands
gripping the wheel and his formidable concentration focused in on the
driving.  She had not been able to stop looking at those hands...
wondering.  How they would feel holding hers... now they might feel
on her body.  And she'd drawn herself up with an inner scolding, even
as she thought it.  Calvin was only a year in the grave.  But Calvin
was so different from this stern yet gentle man.  

Her husband had been slender and only a few inches taller than she,
whereas Walter Skinner towered over her, making her feel more
feminine and delicate than she'd ever felt in her life.  Calvin was
built like the rest of the Honeas; Inupiaqs were not a tall people. 
She had always looked her husband in the eye.  Now she stared up into
Walter Skinner's bespectacled face, and wondered what he'd be like...
under different circumstances.

Walter Skinner was having the same thoughts, about her.

His first impression of Mary Honea was of a strong woman asked to
face terrible circumstances and do so with courage and fortitude.  In
many ways she reminded him of Scully - both determined, both fiercely
loyal and both driven to survive against any obstacles.  Her outer
toughness was at odds with the tenderness he'd seen her display
toward her father and toward the children.  She'd let Meggie tug on
her hair and suck on the ends of it - she'd wrestled Matty to the
floor and held a no-holds-barred tickling match with the giggling
toddler.  She was pretty and sweet and knew how to handle a gun and
could cook up a mean caribou stew...

Skinner wanted to get to know her better.  But tonight she needed to
sleep - they all did.  So he took her hand and raised it to his face,
and kissed her palm, closing her fingers around the caress he'd
placed there.  And he smiled into her wide, surprised eyes, as he
murmured, "Get some sleep.  I'm right next door.  If you or your
father need me, just call, okay?  I'll come right over."  Mary looked
up into his face and the lines of weariness under her eyes only made
her look lovelier, more vulnerable.  Her next words confirmed this.

"Walter, the bees... did you see any?  Are we safe?"  The sadness he
saw in her dark eyes tore at Skinner and he stepped forward, obeying
the need inside him - and his arms went about her gently; he bent his
head to her and pressed an unshaven cheek to her soft skin - and the
comfort of his reply became an unexpected promise between them as he
kissed the side of her jaw and heard her tiny sigh of contentment.

"Mary, you're safe.  We'll take care of you... always."

Bill was first to awaken the next morning and quietly set about
calling the other rooms, rousing everyone.  It was still dark outside
but a glance at her watch told Scully it was almost six o'clock. 
She and Mulder grabbed a quick shower together, resisting the strong
pull of shower play, and made it down to the lobby before anyone else.

Although Skinner had expressed curiosity at finding out what or who
could be staying in some of the other rooms - because quite a few of
the room keys were missing - Tara and Mary shuddered and stated they
would rather not know.  Jon Honea echoed his daughter's concern,
rubbing at his elbow in a significant manner.  The men took the hint,
and they loaded themselves into their vehicles and headed out.  

They were driving through town, looking for the route that would
take them to the Dalton Highway, when Bill spotted a Ford dealership
on the Steese Expressway.  Signaling, he turned in, assuring that the
van followed them.  He turned to Mulder, sitting there beside him.

"I wonder if we should grab another tank like this one.  Maybe have
three vehicles going north... just in case."

Mulder nodded; it made sense to him.  Maybe the next smaller size,
the Expedition.  He and Scully got out of the Excursion and tried the
door of the dealership; not surprisingly the door was unlocked.  They
found their way to the service department and the key storage,
grabbed all the keys labeled 'Expedition' and went back out to try
their luck on the lot.

Ten minutes later they found a dark blue Expedition, loaded, with a
full tank of gas, and jumped in.  Pulling it around to the front lot
they maneuvered it close to the Excursion and unloaded some of the
excess load, stacking it into the back and freeing up much-needed
room for the children to stretch out.  Scully grabbed Mulder's cell
phone and brought it with her into the new car, leaving Bill's in the
other vehicle.  Skinner's rig would get better gas mileage now - not
that it mattered very much.  They would not run out of fuel for a
very long time.

Nobody thought about the fact that they were, in effect - looting.  
Or if they thought about it at all... they kept that thought to 
themselves.

The convoy headed out of Fairbanks at eight o'clock in the morning
after loading up on more ice, bottled water and cold drinks.  They
ran into a Fred Meyers, again unlocked; in their haste to grab extra
boxes of diapers and powdered milk for Meggie they barely noticed the
bodies lying everywhere.  

Scully wondered if she'd finally become numb to it all...part of her
hoped so even as her heart bemoaned the cold attitude.

The Dalton Highway was a two-lane highway full of washboard ridges,
potholes and bad frost-heaves.  Mulder knew the permafrost, under the
ground about ten to twenty feet down, was responsible for the horrid
state of the roads.  He hoped the relative teeth-jarring of the ride
would even out eventually.  

Next to him Scully pored over maps and tried to gauge the hours it
would take to reach Deadhorse.  It was hard to predict owing to the
rough road and the increasing wet snow they encountered as they drove
north toward the Alaskan Range.  The air outside their vehicle was
definitely colder and she had to adjust the heat several times.  As
the snow got thicker and crustier they left the windshield wipers on
all the time.

Twice they lost sight of the big Ford, driven by Bill; each time
Scully called him to assure all was well, and was assured that the
damn wipers were getting clogged and they'd had to stop and clean
them off - spoken in a true Bill Scully grouch of a voice.  Mulder
chuckled as he maneuvered his way around an especially nasty and deep
pothole, remarking to Scully, "I always know when your brother is
healthy and relatively sane... 'The Voice' comes out - accompanied by
much cursing."

Scully laughed and re-dialed Bill's phone, grinning hugely when his
irritated, "WHAT!" could even be heard by Mulder.  She spoke sweetly
into the phone.

"Bill, we need to tell you - watch out for that pothole in front of -
" A loud, angry, "SONOFABITCH!  FUCK!", and Tara's admonishment of,
"Bill, shut up!  The children..."  Mulder mumbled under his breath.

"Guess you were a little late on that one, Shorty..."  And next to
him Scully wiped tears of laughter from her eyes, and retorted the
second verse of the old Fifties' song.

"Ooo-whee, I'll betcha that smarts..."

They made better time than they'd figured and arrived in Deadhorse
just four hours after leaving Fairbanks.  The hundred or so miles were
slow going at times owing to the rapidly-changing climate; by the
time they hit Deadhorse the snow was on the ground to stay.

They put the Fords into permanent four-wheel drive outside of
Stephens Village, needing the extra traction to make it up the
increasingly mountainous terrain.  Mary's van was all-wheel drive and
they managed very well.  Skinner decided he liked her van a lot
better than his big Ford, finding the handling much easier especially
in the snow.

Up and up they'd climbed, through the outer rim of the Range, where
the road could still cut a swathe through the lower Endicott
Mountains.  And it was dark when they reached Deadhorse. But that was
to be expected.  This far north, Alaska would soon be plunged into 
almost eternal night - for at least five months.

The cold night would be longer still, in Barrow and in Mt. Vu'luk.

As was expected, Deadhorse was fairly deserted, but not because of
dead bodies.  Most of the people had been airlifted out - the
evidence was everywhere, tracking the snow with the marks of the
departing planes.  They found a few bodies scattered here and there,
but they didn't find anyone alive although they looked.  They also
didn't find any discarded incubators, which was a blessing in itself.

Mulder swirled one booted foot in the tracks left by a departed
plane, thinking about the hell that awaited those people who'd left
their homes thinking they would be safer if they went south.  How
could they know this would be their doom - to fly into Fairbanks or
Anchorage, where the last final vestiges of autumn clung to the
atmosphere and the colder temperatures hadn't chased away the bees?  

He wished they'd gotten up here sooner.

Bill called his name and Mulder turned, watching his brother-in-law
run up to him.  He and Bill had come a long way in a very short time -
and Mulder felt real affection for his new brother.  Bill came to a
huffing stop and his breath crystallized in the night air as he
pointed down the tiny runway.

"I found a couple of Lear jets at the end of the tarmac.  One seats
eight and the other six.  They appear to be in excellent shape;
probably owned by a private individual who maybe came up for the 
tourist season."  They both turned and peered through the darkness 
at the small jets, and Mulder wondered aloud at the fuel situation.

"Think they're full?  I suppose if they weren't we could find the
tanks.  They have to be around here someplace."  Bill nodded, and
pointed again to the left of the jets.

"Tanks are over there.  I found them first, actually; I ran into
them.  Now all we have to decide is which one to take."  Skinner,
walking up to them, overheard the last remark, and he replied
confidently.

"We take them both.  We'll need them both - I can fly one and you
can fly the other," he addressed Bill.  Mulder turned to Skinner in
surprise.

"I didn't know you had a license."  Skinner nodded,shrugging 
nonchalantly.  

"I wasn't on the ground all the time in 'Nam.  This little jet will
be a piece of cake.  So what do you say?  Both jets?"  Bill nodded,
and clapped Skinner on the shoulder, then tossing a retort over his
shoulder as he walked toward the Ford and his family.

"Dibs on the eight-seater, Walt buddy..."  Skinner immediately took
exception to being relegated to the smaller plane, and ran to catch
up with Bill, who'd taken off sprinting toward the Ford.  His
protesting squawk filtered back on the night air, and Mulder chuckled
and shook his head as he followed them.

"Why should you get the bigger plane, Scully?  I was in 'Nam, I flew
with the big boys..."

They ended up sleeping for a few hours in their vehicles, knowing
they had to leave them behind and regretting very much the knowledge
that whatever Mt. Vu'luk had in store for them it would not include a
great set of wheels.  Mulder and Scully curled into the back seat of
the Expedition, bundling up into their sleeping bags and several
layers of flannel and wool.  Tara and Bill each cuddled a child,
keeping themselves warm, and Mary took two sleeping bags and gave her
father two as well, Skinner only needing one. 

They slept out the dark and left at sunrise as soon as they'd fueled 
both jets.  It would be several hours before daylight would hit and
they wanted to be in the air looking for Mt. Vu'Luk and then landing
before it got dark again.  Mary and Jon Honea flew with Skinner in
the smaller Lear, Skinner grudgingly surrendering the larger plane to
Bill.  They took a lot of the heavier equipment and boxes.  Mulder and
Scully flew with Bill and family, with the rest of the gear.

By plane the vastness of the Alaskan Range was much more impressive
than what they'd seen of it from the Dalton Highway.  From the window
seat Mulder stared out at pristine white, miles of it as far as he
could see.  Dotted here and there by thin twisted black spruce, 
it was at once beautiful and frightening.  A person could die out 
there in mere hours.  And yet it was that very danger that would 
protect them, for the Range would stymie the bees' flight north.  
Comfort could at lease be taken from that, he decided.

Skinner dipped the wing and made a curious circle of one of the
higher peaks of the Range.  Kobuk Peak rose up higher than the
surrounding yet smaller mountains.  Desolate and serene, the Range
was unlike anything they'd seen.

Behind him in the larger jet, keeping a safe distance, Bill kept a
close eye on their coordinates and remarked into his headset, "We're
about sixty miles from where Mt. Vu'Luk should be - but it's hard to
believe there's any sort of civilization out here."  Skinner nodded,
though Bill couldn't see it, and glanced at the controls, keeping a
steady ten thousand feet.  He responded to Bill.

"Yeah.  But there are villages all over.  Small, but hardy and
surviving because they haven't forgotten the old ways.  We should be
able to make Mt. Vu'Luk work for us; according to Mary and Jon there
are quite a few solidly built cabins in the village and they have a
generator and plenty of fuel."

Behind him Mary added, "The 2000 census says the Native population
there was a hundred and the white count was seven."  Skinner
smiled at her and spoke softly, but loud enough for the occupants of
the other jet to hear.

"Well, we can add some to the Caucasian population, I guess. And
Jon tells me there are a few of his distant cousins still living in
the village.  I think we'll be welcomed."  

In the larger jet Mulder stretched his stiff muscles and looked over
at Tara who slept in her seat with Matty nestled trustingly in her
arms.  His own lap was filled with Meggie - Mulder stroked the soft
baby hair and marveled aloud that such a lout as Bill Scully should
be able to produce such a pretty child...

An irritated, "I heard that, Mulder," answered his vague remark - as
Mulder had hoped. He snickered into Meggie's hair; sometimes Bill was
so easy...

Mt. Vu'luk looked tiny and cold from the air.  Skinner circled twice
before touching down, rolling to an easy stop on a runway still
fairly clear of snow.  Someone had removed the snow recently.  Behind
him the larger jet landed, just as gently.  Bill's head popped out,
testing the air; with a shudder he stuck his head back in the jet and
remarked, "It's damn cold out there.  Better put on the heavy gear."  

Jon was helped down from the smaller jet, and stood hatless in the
cold wind of the tarmac.  He grinned at the sight of Mulder, Scully
and the rest of her family bundled up as if they had landed on
Antarctica.  

"You will find it tough going, my friends, if you don't begin to
acclimate to the cold right away.  It is not the right weather for so
many layers.  The children, perhaps." He nodded in approval as first
Mulder, then Scully and Bill took off their hats and let the wind
bite their ears.  After a few minutes Mulder found it wasn't really
as cold as he'd first imagined.

They left their belongings on the tarmac and walked toward the
village, only about a half-mile away.  Mulder carried Meggie on his
shoulders and Bill piggy-backed Matty.  Scully walked quickly, as did
Mary, leaving Skinner behind to walk with the slower Elder and help
him along.

They reached the first set of cabins, searching for any signs of
life - worried when knocking on cabin doors revealed empty homes. 
They rounded the corner of another set of cabins, fingers crossed -

And spotted a young boy running through the three-foot snow with a
huge husky dog yapping at his heels.  Mary stopped dead in her
tracks, and stared hard - then she broke into a run and headed
straight for the child, crying out to him, "MICHAEL!  Oh God,
Michael..."  The boy stopped and stared at her as well, face breaking
into a wide smile when he recognized her.  He shouted joyfully to her.

"Aunt Mary!  Aunt Mary!"  He jumped into her arms as she ran up to
him and she swung him around in a dizzying embrace even though it was
apparent he was a few inches taller than she.  Mary finally let his
feet touch the ground and she pushed back the hood that covered his
face as Scully huffed to a stop behind them, her eyes tearing up at
the sight of such a happy reunion.  Mary cupped her nephew's face
lovingly and pressed several kisses on his smooth cheeks before she
started questioning him.

"Michael, where's your dad?  And where's Lily?  You're not here all
by yourself, are you?"  Michael nodded, his eyes clouding over at the
mention of his family.

"Dad... he's not here, Aunt Mary.  I only got here a few days ago
myself.  I took Nanook and stuffed her into the Hummingbird and I
flew here from Juneau."  Mary stared at the boy in shock.

"You flew the 'copter?  By yourself?  Michael... I can't believe my
brother could be so irresponsible!  What was he thinking?"  Mary was
fuming, but Michael tugged on her parka sleeve to get her attention.

"It wasn't Dad's fault, Aunt Mary!  He couldn't stop me..."  The boy
swallowed hard and the tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over
his rounded cheeks.  "Dad... he's dead, Aunt Mary.  So is Lily....
and Mom.  There were these bees... and I was so scared, Aunt Mary..."

Mary sank to the ground with her nephew in her arms, hugging him
tightly and rocking him, while Scully sat in the freezing snow with
her arms looped around a huge Husky dog that lapped at the cold
tears on her face with a large pink tongue...

This was the sight that greeted the rest of the refugees as they
rounded the second corner of cabins.


"He's asleep now - finally."  Mary came into the tiny kitchen wiping
her hands on a small towel.  Michael had soaked the towel with his
tears before he succumbed to weariness and slept.  Scully sat in
front of the pot-bellied stove absently scratching Nanook's lean
flanks, the dog rolling her eyes in ecstatic joy at the nimble
fingers stroking her fur.  Her tail thumped the floor with a force
that actually shook the simple rug-covered planks.  Mulder sat in an
old overstuffed chair next to Scully, one hand stroking her hair in
much the same manner as Scully's attention to her canine buddy. 
Judging by the soft humming emanating from her throat... Scully was
loving the attention as well.  

They'd briefly met most of the rest of the remaining villagers, the
ones who refused to leave when the time came to evacuate.  One of the
younger villagers had explained that only a handful of people had
stayed behind, mostly middle-aged to elderly.  These people had
welcomed Mary and Jon with open arms, and were friendly toward the
strangers in their midst.  Until they got to know each other better
it was as much as they could hope to expect.  Promising to visit each
of them first thing in the morning, the weary newcomers found their
way to one of the larger cabins, and began preparing something to eat.

Now Tara stirred a huge pot of hurriedly put-together venison soup
on the old wood stove in the kitchen, thoughtfully provided by one of
the elderly villagers. Her smile was sad as her heart went out to yet
another devastating loss for the Honeas.  Jon had already retired to
the cabin next door, Skinner offering to sit with him and keep him
company until he fell asleep.  Jon had protested, but Mary knew he
was glad to have the company, not willing to be alone with his
thoughts.

Tara ladled soup into some pottery bowls she'd found in the
cupboard, and set out the bowls for everyone to grab.  Scully had
found bread in the icebox outside on the front porch of the cabin,
and it had only needed a little heating in the oven to thaw it out. 
They'd brought in the butter from the ice chest they'd left outside
and Mary liberally buttered the thick-cut, warmed bread.  They sat
around the table and began to eat, only pausing for a moment when the
cabin door flew open and Skinner entered, stomping the snow from his
boots.  He smiled reassuringly at Mary.

"Your father's asleep... I'm going to just grab a bowl of soup and
some bread and run back over in case he awakens."  Mary nodded, and
picked up her bowl and wrapped her bread in a paper towel.

"I'll go over with you, Walter - he'll want to see my face if he
wakes up."  Skinner held her soup for her while she shrugged into her
parka, and as Mary turned to Scully she was greeted with a gentle
smile.

"Don't worry about Michael.  Mulder and I will take care of him
tonight.  There's no sense in moving him and there is another bedroom
in here.  We'll all have breakfast together tomorrow - and we'll
start making plans."  Mary nodded gratefully and gave Scully an
impulsive hug, before taking her food from Skinner and going out into
the cold.  Skinner nodded to everyone and walked out right behind
her.  And Mulder smiled, and his soft comment made everyone in the
warm little cabin nod their heads in agreement.

"I'll bet you anything worth betting that those two are married by
spring..."

********************

~ Chapter Eighteen ~

Mary covered the distance between the cabin she was sharing with her
father to the cabin next door in quick strides.  Knocking softly, she
pushed the door open, allowing a gust of cold air to swirl into the
warm interior.  Scully and Tara were sitting at the table, hands
wrapped around hot mugs of coffee, and in the corner Michael was
introducing Nanook to Matthew and Meggie.  The little girl was
squealing with glee as the big dog nuzzled her neck with her wet
snout.

Mary pulled off her coat and smiled as she sat down at the table
with the other women.  "Coffee?" Scully asked, holding up a pot. 
Mary grabbed a mug and held it out.

"Please," she groaned, pulling the mug under her nose and inhaling
the steamy fragrance.  She took a sip and closed her eyes as the
warmth trickled down to her stomach.   Scully smiled wryly.

"I know," she agreed.  "I'm useless until I have that first cup." 
Mary looked around the cabin. 

"Where are the guys?" she asked.  Tara inclined her head toward the
two closed doors on the other side of the room.

"Still sleeping," she said, propping her cheek on one fist and
yawning. 

"So is Walter." Mary winced as Meggie's shrieks rose in volume,
setting off a chain reaction of giggling between the three children. 
The sweet laughter of her nephew was especially wonderful to hear and
she smiled at Scully and commented, "Michael seems better this
morning.  No bad dreams?"  Scully shook her head, smiling herself as
she thought back to the night before.

She'd placed a pillow and a sleeping bag on the faded sofa, plumping
up the cushions; Mulder had gently lifted the sleeping Michael from
the bed and carried him out of the bedroom.  Michael had stirred a
little and awoken enough to murmur groggily, "Dad?"  She'd seen
Mulder swallow hard, and his answering affirmation had brought a lump
to her throat.

"Shh, Son... I'm just moving you to the sofa.  Go back to sleep." 
The child had nodded, more asleep than awake, and when Mulder had
carefully laid him on the sofa and covered him over with the thick
sleeping bag, the boy's arms had tightened about his neck and Mulder
received a nuzzling kiss on his chin and another sleepy, "Night,
Dad," in his ear... He'd squatted next to the sofa and had stroked
the child's hair rhythmically until Michael had fallen fully asleep
again - and when he'd turned to Scully his eyes were full of tears. 
She had held out her arms for him to come, and be held.  And it had
taken both of them a while to fall asleep, with so much on their
minds. 

Now Michael was giggling like any happy twelve-year-old boy, and
Nanook starting barking in response to the children's laughter.  All
three women looked at the closed doors expectantly, waiting for the
inevitable...  Their patience was rewarded moments later when Mulder
staggered out of one room, followed closely by Bill as he exited the
second bedroom.  

Bill expertly stepped over the children who were rolling around on
the floor with the dog as he made a beeline for the coffeepot, while
Mulder was less graceful, stumbling over Nanook and nearly pitching
onto the floor.  He righted himself and made it to the table in one
piece. Sliding into the chair next to Scully he blindly reached out
for her coffee mug, draining half of it in one gulp.

"Mulder!" Scully complained, yanking the mug away from him.  "Get
your own coffee."  Mulder scooted his chair closer to hers and leaned
his head on her shoulder, nuzzling his nose into the warmth of her
neck.

"Too tired," he moaned as his fingers inched across the table toward
the mug again.  Scully sighed and upended a clean mug.  Tara filled
it with coffee and Scully pushed her half-empty mug toward Mulder,
keeping the fresh cup for herself.  Mary hid a smile and cleared her
throat.

"Well, my father and I have been awake for a couple of hours," she
began, biting off a laugh as Mulder mumbled sleepily from the nest
he'd made in Scully's neck.  

"Well aren't you special."  Scully smacked him lightly on the arm.

"Go on, Mary," she encouraged as she pushed ineffectually at her
husband, trying to get him to sit up straight.  Mulder grumbled and
wrapped his arms around her middle.  With great effort, he turned his
head on her shoulder and focused on Mary, jerking his chin toward her
in a signal that he was ready to listen.

"Anyway," Mary continued.  "Some of the villagers you met last night
are very anxious to know what is happening here, and in the rest of
the world.  Dad and I tried to explain, but I think it would be
better if you were to tell them."

Scully took another sip of her coffee.  "Okay, give us a few minutes
to get dressed and then we'll all go over to meet them."  Mary nodded
and pushed away from the table.

"I'll tell Dad and wake Walter," she replied as she grabbed her coat
and headed to the door.  Scully pushed Mulder off her shoulder.

"Let's go, partner," she said, raking her fingers through his sleep-
mussed hair.  "Time to meet the neighbors."

In the watery daylight the village of Mt. Vu'luk appeared almost
ghost-like.  There were four neighborhoods, each circular in design,
with a staggered row of cabins on the outer perimeter and a series of
small sheds on the inner edge.  Each cabin had an odd-looking
structure, like a tiny log cabin, standing off the ground on stilts
about ten to fifteen feet high.  These little towers stood back from
the lot, slightly behind the cabin.  Scully pointed to one and asked
Mary about its significance.  

Mary explained, "That's a cache.  They are for storing food, keeping
it up and away from predators such as bear and birds of prey.  In the
winter they hold meat and such - it stays frozen and the bears and
wolves can't get at it.  In the summer the caches stay cool enough
inside to store eggs and cheese.  There are only two freezers in the
village, so the caches come in handy."  They walked on through the
village.

In the very center of the four circles of cabins and sheds was a
long, low building made of logs with a flat tin roof.  In the
distance behind the grouping of circles another building sat seemingly
deserted.  Mary pointed to it, indicating it was the clinic.  Beyond
that structure in a fenced area was what appeared to be a combination
power and water plant, and next to that a huge greenhouse.  Mulder
and Scully were both especially glad to see a greenhouse...

Down past the clinic sat another large building, with a fenced-in
yard and an adjoining cleared area that appeared to be a field.  When
Mulder inquired about it he was told the building housed several
goats and some pasteurizing equipment, and about two dozen chickens. 
Mulder was impressed; he hadn't expected anything like this, and he
said as much to Mary.  She smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"It became too difficult for the village to have milk and eggs
shipped out from Barrow.  About three years ago they built the barn
and the coop, put in extensive heating and lighting and fed a water
line into it. They heat it all year long and keep it lit as well. 
The goats love the light and the chickens lay much better.  Inupiaqs
rarely eat the birds; none of us care that much for chicken.  We
mostly need the eggs."  As she spoke she'd led Mulder and Scully
toward the double doors of the building and opened them so they could
see inside.  

It smelled good in here, Mulder thought, as he stepped aside to let
Scully enter then walked in behind her to look around.  Like a
farm... it was welcome and comforting at the same time.  There were
six large stalls and three of them were occupied by several goats of
varying age.  A separate stall held a billy with definite attitude;
he bleated low in his throat when Mulder came closer for a better
look.  The rest of the goats chomped their grain contentedly and
never looked up as they walked by.  At the far end of the building
the coop was bracketed off and held two dozen nests.  Chickens
roosted, fat and healthy and surprisingly quiet.  In a separate coop
a rooster strutted pompously.  Their bins were filled with what
looked to be a combination of grain, dried bread and... 

"Sunflower seeds!  Where on earth..." Mulder stared at the seeds,
feeling a long-buried longing overcome him for his favorite treat. 
It had been so long since he'd thought about eating those seeds...
Mary grinned at him and pointed toward the barn door.

"Outside, in the smaller greenhouse.  There are lots of sunflower
plants.  The seeds are saved for the chickens.  They love them.  And
so do you, I would think," she teased him gently, seeing the ecstatic
look on Mulder's face at the mention of the plants.  "They roast them
as well, Mulder - I bet Sophie or Beverly have some, roasted this
past summer.  I'll ask them to give you a bag of them."  She led the
way back outside, grinning again when Mulder's heartfelt, "Thank
you!" echoed behind her.  Scully chuckled to herself as they stood
outside again in the frigid air.  Mulder and fresh sunflower seeds...
she'd have herself a happy boy.

Outside Mary pointed to another greenhouse, as large as the first
one they had seen, identifying it as the grain house.  It was used
solely for the production of alfalfa and oats, when they could get
the seeds. Between the grain house and scraps from everyone's dinner
table the animals had plenty to eat.

As they walked back toward the gathering hall to meet the rest of
the villagers Scully expressed her amazement at their ingenuity in
such a harsh environment.  Mary inclined her head in thanks.

"It is vital to them to be independent of anyone, Dana.  Very
important - now more than ever, I think."  

Mulder had a lot to muse over as he held Scully's gloved hand in
his, swinging it a little between their bodies as they walked along
in the cold morning darkness.  Last night he had asked Mary if there
was running water to each cabin, and she had replied in the
affirmative.  

"Running water, electricity from a big generator that gets its power
from Barrow - and the fact that we have both water and power tells me
that there must be people who survived and stayed behind in Barrow,
and are running the plant.  It supplies the power plants in every
village - it is massive.  There would have to be a crew keeping it
running."  

Now Mary pointed to the smaller building attached to the power
plant, explaining, "That is the water treatment plant.  All the
villages use lake water for their drinking and potable supply.  Holes
are drilled into the ice and the water is pumped out.  Manly takes
care of the power plant - and I am very happy he stayed behind." 
Mulder smiled at her, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Actually six of the original villagers had stayed behind, for
varying reasons - and they were all waiting expectantly at the
gathering hall that sat in the middle of the cabin circles.  Built as
a place of worship and fellowship, the hall had been used for
everything from a schoolhouse to a funeral home.  The building itself
was nothing more than four walls and a tin roof, built long and
rather narrow.  The interior was walled into four separate rooms with
each room sporting a large potbelly stove in one corner and four rows
of benches lined up neatly in the center of the room.  A smaller
bench was placed against the front wall and faced what could be
considered the audience.

Someone had started a fire in the first room; when they got there it
was toasty warm.  Scully and Bill sat on the front bench and Mulder
stood against the wall, after helping to seat Jon Honea facing the
little group of survivors.  After greeting them all softly, Jon
introduced everyone.  There was Sophie and Warren Ooma, a sister and
brother who'd decided to stay behind.  Sophie had been a friend of
Anna's... 

Sarah Tuulum and her son Patrick had stayed.  Sarah had declared that
no silly threat of the 'end of the world' was going to make her leave
the village, and Patrick had vowed to stay with her, though she had
begged him to go and be safe.  Beverly Osowa had also willingly
stayed - mostly for Patrick, for whom she carried a bit of a torch. 
And Manly Lomu also refused to leave, stating that if these old
stubborn souls were sitting tight then so would he - besides,
somebody had to stay behind and keep the power going.  

With the exception of Patrick, Manly and Beverly, every one of them
was well over sixty and the eldest was seventy-one.  

Mulder and Scully explained as best they could, about the original
colonization plans and the way it had been subtly introduced.  The
villagers nodded and murmured amongst themselves as they listened. 
Warren had spoken up in a soft halting voice, addressing his Elder.

"I am not surprised, Jon Honea.  I had always suspected our days on
this earth would not be long without a battle.  I have dreamed... and
my dreams do not lie."  Beverly stood up and paced a bit as she spoke.

"Warren has been having these dreams for years.  I used to think he
was silly for believing in them.  But I have seen this for myself -
when I was in Kenai last month.  Went down to see my mother,
remember?  There were many bees.  I asked Mom, why?  Kenai does not
have these bees!  And yet, there they were.  I did not get stung. 
Now I am very thankful for that."  The others nodded and grunted in
agreement.  They had lived with each other for all their lives, and a
few of them, such as Sarah and Sophie, had never once left the
village.  Sophie mentioned this fact to her old and new friends.

"Now, more than ever, we need to stay together.  We won't know when
our lives and our world might end.  It could be tomorrow.  It could
be in that little one's lifetime," she pointed to Meggie, sitting in
Tara's lap sucking on her thumb.  "It doesn't matter how long.  We
will make each day a good one; it is our way to accept that which we
are given and to not question why there might not be any more.  I
know I speak for all present when I say welcome to you, and extend my
arm, in friendship."  Sophie did just that - extended her arm to all
the newcomers beginning with Scully, who clasped her elbow to elbow
and smiled into the old woman's wrinkled face. And as Sophie extended
her arm to Mulder she softly added, "You will be a good man for her. 
You have her soul reflected in your eyes."  Mulder smiled down at the
tiny Native woman, and leaning into her he pressed a kiss to her
little cheek and whispered a special 'thanks' to her.  Sophie's grin
widened; it was not every day that a handsome young man kissed her. 
The rest of the villagers stood and clasped arms and made reassuring
welcoming gestures.  

Once everyone had greeted each other, and resumed their seats, Jon
Honea got down to business.  "Sophie, tell me who you have been able
to contact."  The old woman rubbed at her chin and thought for a
moment.

"Let me see.  First there was Donny, in Ikiak.  He tells me there
are only twenty left in the village.  He is thinking about coming to
us, if he can convince his family to move. No one died.  Several took
their snowmobiles and left for Barrow."  Rubbing her chin again,
Sophie thought a bit more.

"I left a message for Milt in Atqasak, and spoke to his sister Nan
in Nulavik.  Nan tells me she will come to us in a month or so, after
she harvests.  She will can her crop and bring it to us.  Nan's son
Ty is in Barrow and will come out to us around the same time as his
mom, maybe earlier.  And Ty reported to Nan that there are about a
hundred people left in Barrow.  Those that did not leave or die for
any reason are manning the plants and the wells.  They keep us all
alive."  Spoken with fierce pride in her quavering voice, Mulder
could tell - for the strength of her race.  He smiled gently at the
rapidly tiring old woman, and pressed her shoulder. 

"Sophie, how do you get hold of these friends?  Do you have a ham
radio?"  Sophie stared up at him with a vaguely insulted look on her
face.  Her answer was spoken with lofty assurance.

"Ham?  Of course!  But for this sort of contact, to use a ham? I
think not!  I prefer 'www.villagenetworking.com'..."

Mulder found himself suddenly very impressed.

After Sophie's report, everyone was eager to pitch in and begin. 
Scully declared the setting up of the clinic was a big priority and
that she and Mary would be spending the rest of the day getting
started.  Warren Ooma thought there might be a hole on the clinic
roof and tasked Patrick Tuulum and Bill with collecting the materials
necessary to repair it.  Sarah and Beverly sat with Tara and began
making lists of all the known supplies in the village, and Skinner
got together with Mulder and Manly, to figure the best way to set up
some sort of round-the-clock protection for the village.  Manly
suggested a quick tour of the village and a crash course in operating
the power plant...

And so their first full day in the 'Last Frontier' had officially
begun.

*********


Scully and Mary left the hall and trudged through the snow toward
the clinic.  Scully stuffed her hands deep into the pockets of her
parka and fought to suppress a shiver.  Mary glanced toward her and
Scully wrinkled her nose.  

"I suppose this isn't nearly as cold as it's going to get, is it?"
she asked.  Mary laughed and shook her head.  Scully sighed morosely
and looked around the village.  It was only September and already the
horizon was a vast carpet of white.

"That's what I thought," she said.  Mary pointed toward the building
at the far end of the village and the two women veered toward it. 
Mary twisted the doorknob and pulled the door open, ushering Scully
into the darkened building.  She flicked on a power switch and Scully
could hear the generator kick in as a row of lights flickered to life.

They were standing in a small lobby with four plastic chairs and a
coffee table littered with old paperbacks.

"Waiting area," Mary told Scully.  "There were two doctors who would
take turns traveling to all of these remote villages.  They would
come through approximately once a month, sometimes less often.  I
know Mt. Vu'luk seems very small, and it is, but it is the largest
village in the area.  There are several much smaller settlements in
the surrounding area and the people from those settlements would come
to the clinic on the days the doctors would be in town."

Scully nodded and looked around.  "How did the outlying settlements
know when the doctors would be here?" she asked as she moved down the
hallway.  Mary followed her and directed her to the first room off
the lobby.  

"The doctors kept to a fairly routine schedule," she said.  "And the
people in all of the villages stayed in touch through ham radios and
the Internet."  She hit another switch and light flooded the room to
reveal a small examination table, stainless steel sink and a low
stool on wheels.

"There are two examination rooms," Mary said.  "The other one looks
pretty much the same as this one."  She stepped back into the
hallway.  "Come on, I'll show you the rest."  Scully took another
look around before turning off the light and following Mary toward
the next room.  The small lab showed two gleaming chrome workspaces
on which were spread various pieces of medical equipment.  In one
corner stood a portable x-ray machine.  In another there was an
ultrasound machine.  Scully glanced toward her companion with an
admiring look.

"I know you said the lab was well-equipped, but I never expected
anything like this," she said as she considered the rugged log
dwellings of the villagers.  Mary laughed.

"I know," she concurred.  "But as I told you, it's brand new.  The
state government funded most of it.  There's no other way for the
people of this area and other areas like it to receive medical help."
Mary led Scully into the last room along the hallway and pushed open
the door.  Scully stepped inside what was obviously an office.  A
small desk with a computer sat along one wall.  Bookshelves were
built into the wall above the desk and they were crammed with various
medical journals and textbooks.  A small, worn sofa was positioned
against another wall and a tiny refrigerator was hidden behind the
door.  Mary yanked open the refrigerator and pulled out two small
bottles of ginger ale.  

"Want one?" she asked.  Scully nodded and took the bottle from the
other woman.  Mary sat down on the sofa and pulled her feet up onto
the cushions.  Scully sat down at the other end and mimicked Mary's
pose.  Mary cracked open the lid of her soda and took a long swallow.
Lowering the bottle she regarded the auburn-haired woman seated
across from her.

"You're a medical doctor and an FBI Agent?" she asked.  Scully
nodded and took a tiny sip of her drink.  "What's your field?" Mary
wondered.  Scully scowled and sighed.

"Forensic pathology," she said heavily.  Mary gawked and quickly
swallowed a mouthful of her soda.  

"Forensic pathology?" she repeated slowly.  Scully nodded.

"I'm afraid so."

"Damn," Mary sighed.  "I don't know that any of the doctors will
still be coming out here... " she said worriedly.  Scully propped her
chin on her knees and looped her hands around her legs.

"Weelll," she said in a drawn out breath.  "I'm a bit of a science
geek," she said, wrinkling her nose in self-deprecation.  "So I've
kept up to date with my journal reading," she said.  "And Mulder...
well let's just say he has a propensity for finding himself in dire
need of medical attention.  Thanks to him, I've had many chances to
play doctor.  I've been his personal physician for a number of
years."  Mary smiled wickedly.

"I'll bet you have," she said suggestively.  Scully blushed
furiously and hastened to explain.

"I... I didn't mean..." she stammered helplessly.  

Mary laughed and took pity on her.  "How did you wind up in the
FBI?" she asked.  Scully sighed, relieved at the change in topic.

"I was recruited out of medical school," she explained.  "I wasn't
at the Bureau very long before they assigned me to work as Mulder's
partner."  She had a distant look in her eyes as she remembered that
long ago time.  Mary spoke again, bringing Scully back to the present.

"How long have you two been together?" she asked quietly.  Scully
glanced up at the other woman.

"I was assigned to work with him eight years ago," she told her. 
Mary looked shocked.

"And you just got married?" she asked incredulously.  Scully frowned
in confusion before heaving an exasperated sigh.

"We've been partners for eight years," she clarified.  Mary nodded
and then tilted her head consideringly.  

"So how long have you two been together?" she asked again, this time
in a more suggestive tone so that Scully could not escape her
meaning.  Scully developed a sudden fascination with the paper label
on her soda bottle.  Picking at the label with one nail, she muttered
something under her breath.

Mary leaned forward, straining to hear better.  "Excuse me?" she
asked.  Scully hissed out a frustrated breath and began to shred the
label with her nails.  

"I said, less than a month."  Her cheeks were burning with
embarrassment and she concentrated on rolling the shredded paper into
tiny balls.  She chanced a glance toward Mary who was gaping at her
incredulously.

"Less than..."  She shook her head.  "You're telling me that you've
worked side by side with that man for eight years and you only... you
waited..."  Her face was contorted with shock.  "A month? A MONTH? 
Sweet Jesus! How were you able to keep from jumping him all these
years?"  Scully's mouth dropped open in shock as Mary continued to
shake her head with disbelief.  Suddenly a tiny snicker escaped
Scully and she clapped a hand over her mouth.  Mary looked up and
laughed out loud at the expression on Scully's face.  The two women
smiled with delight as a new friendship was born.

Mary leaned back and rested her cheek against the sofa cushions. 
"You've only been physically intimate for a short while," she said
knowingly.  "But you've been lovers for years."  Scully's smile was
soft and she nodded.

"I don't remember a time when I didn't love him," she said simply. 
Mary fought back a pang as the loss of her Calvin was brought home in
the face of Scully's newly wedded glow.  But the sharpness of the
pain was fading as time worked its healing magic on the wound to her
heart.

Mary blew out a breath and set her feet on the floor.  Standing she
took Scully's empty soda bottle and tossed it into the trashcan along
with her own.  Scully ran her hands up and down the nylon fabric of
the snow pants covering her legs.

"You know," she began.  "This clinic is better equipped than I could
have hoped, but if we're going to come up with a vaccine against this
virus, we're going to need more than what we've got here."  Scully
rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.  

"Is that what you're going to do?" Mary asked.  Her eyes were
hopeful as she stared down at Scully.  "Are you going to work on a
vaccine?"  Scully lifted tired eyes to hers and nodded slowly.

"I'm going to try," she told her.  "But I could use your help." 
Mary crossed her arms over her chest and eyed the other woman
consideringly.  Despite the weariness evident in Scully's eyes, Mary
saw a hidden well of strength and determination.  She held out her
hand and Scully clasped it firmly in her own.

"I'll help you in any way I can," Mary vowed.

*******

Days passed; busy days full of hard yet rewarding work.  Repairs
were made to a few of the cabins and buildings and the village women
began setting up the greenhouse, preparing it for the winter crop. 
Skinner and Bill were given a crash course on operating the power
plant and the water treatment facility; Manly declared them fast
learners.  

With Sophie's assistance Mulder had managed to get on line using one
of the computers in the section of the Gathering Hall designated for
classes, and sat for over an hour trying to get hold of the guys. 
Although it didn't surprise him that he was unable to tempt them into
emailing him a response, still Mulder worried; he just knew they were
out there someplace running amok in their quest to get in on all the
excitement.  He just hoped Langly hadn't blown a hole in the ceiling
of their lair... and let in all the bees.

He had a long and informative chat with Nan's son Ty, who was
beginning to get himself packed up and ready to head in from Barrow. 
Mulder had discovered the ride by mobile usually took about two
hours.  He'd asked Ty to explain what had happened to the townsfolk,
and the answer again did not surprise him, as much as greatly sadden
him.

He read: 'The town mostly died, after that last big airdrop we had
just two weeks ago.  Lots of canned and frozen dinners.  I suspect
the government set out to poison us, because we want to secede from
the Union.'

Privately Mulder thought that perhaps Ty had spent a little too much
time studying the War between the States in school... but he held his
thoughts to himself and instead prodded Ty about the tainted food,
asking him how he had avoided eating it.

Ty's response was as he had feared:  'I do not touch the food they
drop.  I have no love for the white way and refuse to eat their
processed poison.  I watched my friends die.  I watched them turn
evil on each other, saw a pal of mine rape his own sister.  I tried
to stop him and he almost broke my arm. I think he would have killed
me.  My friends ate that shit the whites eat - they died just like
the whites died.  I ran and hid until it was all over and I was not
proud of my fear.  But I am alive - and so are those of us who think
the way I do.'

Mulder nodded and muttered to himself as he typed in his final
question: 'Will the surviving people stay and keep Barrow going?'

And Ty's answer:  'Yes.  They will stay.  There are no young ones my
age here.  My mom wants me to go to Mt. Vu'luk, so I will honor her
wish and come.  But I think it is the coward way.'

Mulder hastened to assure the boy that he was not, nor ever would be
considered - a coward.  Ty's response echoed his native race - and
reminded him strongly of Jon Honea.

'I thank you.'

****************

~ Chapter Nineteen ~

Scully pushed open the door and let herself into the quiet cabin. 
After their first full day in the village Bill, Tara and the kids had
moved to the cabin on the far side and Michael had settled in
comfortably with his Aunt Mary and grandfather Jon.  Nanook was now
shedding her fur on their carpet instead of Scully's - and Skinner
had decided to stay as close to Mary and Jon as possible and had the
cabin on the other side of them...

She peeked through the small rooms; Mulder was nowhere to be found. 
She sighed wearily as she looked around, noticing how very little
she'd managed to accomplish in the way of unpacking and settling in. 
She would have to remedy that... maybe later.  

Scully pushed aside the heavy curtain covering the window and looked
outside.  Only three o'clock in the afternoon and with the exception
of the lights strung between the cabins in the village, it was pitch
black outside.  She stretched out on the sofa and opened one of the
medical textbooks she had taken from the clinic.  It was time for a
crash course in virology.

After nearly three hours of reading, Scully leaned her head against
the arm of the sofa.  She rubbed her eyes tiredly, already regretting
the fact that her glasses and contact lenses had been left behind in
D.C.  A headache was brewing behind her eyes.  Thirty minutes later,
Mulder walked into the warm cabin to find his wife curled up on the
sofa, surrounded by textbooks and scraps of paper.  Scully was
startled awake when she felt the sofa cushions shift beneath her. 

"Mulder?" She pushed herself up on one elbow to find him sitting
beside her.

"Hey," he said softly, pushing back a strand of hair that had
tumbled onto her forehead.  "Whatcha doing?" he asked, glancing at
the mess around them.  Scully sighed and rolled her head against the
sofa arm.

"Research," she said grimacing as she tried to rub a kink out of the
back of her neck.  Mulder helped her sit up and slipped behind her,
settling both hands on her shoulders and kneading the tension out of
them.

"What have you been up to?" Scully asked as her head fell forward, a
tiny moan of pleasure escaping her lips.  Mulder slid his hands up
and down the curve of her spine.

"We all met at the gathering hall for a little while and then Manly
gave us a final test in operating the power plant and the water-
filtering treatment plant.  I think we passed."  He smoothed his hand
over her hair and pulled her back against his chest.  "We're not as
cut off and isolated as I had originally thought," he said, leaning
his cheek against her hair.  "Today I was able to contact Nan's son
Ty, the kid who's coming in from Barrow.  He told me that the younger
people there and the white population died after they ate food from a
recent air drop."

Scully turned to look at him, her eyes wide and worried.  "How
recent, Mulder?  As recent as a few weeks?"  He nodded unhappily.

"Ty says the drop was only two weeks ago.  He's a traditional
Inupiaq and refuses to eat processed food. That adherence to Native
ways might just have saved his life."  Mulder rested his chin on her
head and thought about their vital, yet fragile link to the outside
world.

"I don't know how long the Internet will be available to us," he
added as he thought of the massive destruction that had taken place
worldwide.  "But we'll have to take advantage of it while it's still
accessible.  And we have to get hold of the guys - as soon as they
come out of their self-induced covert lurking," he finished.  Scully
nodded.

"There's a computer at the clinic too," she mentioned.  Mulder
turned his head and peered at her in the softly lit room. 

"Tell me about the clinic," he prompted softly.  Nestling deeper
into her husband's arms, Scully described the clinic to him.  Her
surprise and pleasure at finding such a well-appointed facility was
evident in her voice.

"Mary and I will devote one day a week to seeing patients, unless
there is a medical emergency," she told him.  "The rest of our time
will be spent working on the vaccine."  She worried her bottom lip
with her teeth.  "But Mulder, we don't have the right equipment," she
complained quietly.  Mulder eased her onto his lap and touched his
fingers to her cheek, turning her face toward his.

"Like what?" he asked curiously.  Scully huffed out an exasperated
breath.

"Like a centrifuge, for one thing.  A high-powered electron
microscope..." She flung a hand out toward the books and papers
scattered around them.  "I don't know," she said.  "I just - I really
don't know..." her voice trailed off and she buried her face in his
shoulder.  "I don't know if I can do this," she admitted against his
throat.  Mulder heard the fear in her voice and he sought to soothe
her.

"Look, we'll figure out some way to get the equipment you need," he
told her.  "And I think we're safe from the virus here, so you don't
have to rush through this," he said.  "You do your research.  I'll
help you in any way I can," he promised.  Mulder stared deeply into
her eyes.  "I think," he said, as his fingers traced the line of her
jaw, "I think that you can do anything that you put your mind to," he
told her.  "Just remember you're not in this alone."

Scully nestled her cheek against his shift and relaxed in his
embrace.  She threw her arms around his neck in surprise when he
shifted and stood, lifting her in his arms.

"Mulder," she exclaimed.  "What are you doing?"  Mulder laughed and
clutched her tightly in his embrace.

"It seems to me, Mrs. Mulder," he said, slowly picking his way
through the mess of books and papers toward the bedroom door, "that
we're still on our honeymoon."  His smile was slow and sexy and as he
lowered his mouth to hers, Scully surrendered and left her worries
outside of the bedroom door.

**********

Another day - a busy one.  Tara had spent part of it reading through
home school textbooks she'd pulled from the schoolhouse, knowing
she'd need to begin teaching Michael as soon as possible.  She had
spoken to Beverly about it, receiving an enthusiastic thumbs-up. 
Although Beverly had done some home-schooling before it wasn't really
her area of expertise.  She was glad to give the job over to someone
actually educated to teach... even if for now it was for just one
child.  There was always the possibility of more survivors showing up
in the village - and they might have children.  Tara wanted to be
prepared.

The hectic day, full of preparing classes and trying to finalize the
unpacking and settling a new place, getting to know new people - and
running after two rambunctious children - had wiped out Bill and
Tara.  The unrelenting darkness also went a long way toward
convincing their tired bodies of the need for sleep.  	

During the past days Tara had spent a lot of time with Beverly and
Sarah, writing down everything they told her as they ran through a
vast mental inventory of items that ranged from a silver tea set to
complete rooms of furniture.  There were many deserted houses, owned
by villagers who'd had to leave everything behind when they were
ordered to evacuate.  Sarah listed every family with children,
knowing the little ones of Tara's would need many warm clothes - and
explaining as gently as possible that the warmest clothes the
newcomers had brought with them most likely would not be enough once
the deep winter hit.  And Tara suddenly understood a lot better just
what she and her family were truly up against.

She didn't know whether to be excited - or hysterical.

Now the village was quiet; everyone was exhausted.  Across the
street a single light glowed in the cabin Mulder and Scully had
taken.  Tara had spent a lot of time moving in the rest of their
belongings and preparing their beds.  A visit with Sophie that first
full day had yielded bed and bath linens, furniture and kitchen
supplies left behind by her next-door neighbors.  When Sophie had
assured Tara that she and the other newcomers could have anything
they needed, at first Tara had demurred. Remarking that these folks
would need their things once they returned to the village... Sophie
had met her with a sad smile and had pressed her hand with gnarled,
arthritic fingers - and her reply had sent a chill through Tara.

"Oh, my dear - I think we both know our fellow friends and family
will not be needing that which they left behind.  I am old, but I am
practical.  They will not come back.  I will miss them for the rest
of my life - and I take comfort knowing I will see them again in our
next existence."  Tara had nodded, and had found a way to smile
around the lump in her throat.

Now the sleeping children were bundled up in their thick flannel
blankets and sheets, warm and cozy.  Bill had built up a decent fire
and the cabin was toasty.  They had eaten venison soup for dinner and
had even had a dessert of canned blueberries over sweet biscuits. 
Tummies full and no TV to watch or books to read... bed seemed like
the reasonable thing to do.

While Bill made do in the tiny, rustic bathroom, Tara opened up the
bed in the smaller room and laid Matty in for the night.  She handed
him a teddy bear that had belonged to one of Sarah's nieces, and
kissed his little forehead as he muttered in his sleep and wrapped
himself around the battered toy.  They had found a sturdy crib in one
of the sheds and had made up a very comfortable bed for Meggie, who
now lay snuggled in with her rabbit, sucking her thumb with gusto as
she snored little baby-snorts. 

In the larger bedroom Bill left the doors open to help distribute
the heat from the stove, and dove underneath the thick cover of their
bed, landing next to his wife in a heap of long legs and thermal
underwear and wool socks.  He felt for Tara's leg, and chuckled when
he encountered her thigh, fully loaded with the thickness of about
four layers of clothes.  

"God, Tara... what're you going to do when it gets really cold?" 
She huffed indignantly at him.

"Bill, it's already cold.  Right now I'm very, very cold.  I expect
I'll get used to it sooner or later but right now it's sooner than
later, and I'm cold."  With that snappy comeback Tara reached out
five afore-mentioned cold fingers and burrowed them into a part of
Bill's anatomy that did not deal well with ice...

Bill screamed.  Loudly.

"Jesus Joyce and Fred, Tara!  Your fingers are like goddamn ice!  I
think you've injured me for life - either that, or permanently
decimated any reproductive chances I may have for the future!"  Tara
paid him no heed whatsoever, having found a great place in which to
warm her cold hands.  She promptly shoved her other hand into the
same general vicinity, and giggled when Bill sucked in a tense breath
and cursed again, this time in a quieter tone, remembering the
children in the next room.  He turned his head and glared at her
through the flickering firelight from the outer room.

"Tara, you're killing me here, you know that, don't you?  Is there
some other place you could possibly warm up your hands, besides my
balls?"  Tara batted her eyelashes at him.

"Sure, Bill - I could always shove them between MY legs and warm
them there.  But I was saving that particular heating pad for
whatever part of you that needs warming... Sweetheart."  The low,
teasing words vibrated straight through Bill Scully and got his
circulation going again.  He grinned at his mischievous wife and
pushed against her hands.

"Are you getting feisty, Tara?  I'm shocked.  A sweet innocent girl
like you..." His wife snorted into her pillow and her nimble fingers,
now nicely warmed up, moved against him.  Bill groaned.

"Not innocent any longer, thanks to you... now I'm one of those
loose girls the nuns were always whispering about in the faculty
lounge.  Now I've got a rep to protect."  She moved closer to her
husband and licked a path from his jaw to the center of his chin,
lapping at the indentation below his bottom lip before covering his
mouth fully with hers, and kissing him deeply.  Bill slid his big
hands underneath her bulky clothing, searching in vain for a spot of
bare skin.  Finding nothing but assorted layers of flannel and
cotton, he huffed in frustration against her mouth, muttering.

"Take off a few pounds of clothes before I go nuts, Tara - I can't
get to you!"  He let go and pushed her away, far enough to tug at her
thick sweater.  Tara laughingly began peeling off layers, flinging
them on the floor as she watched her husband's reaction to her little
strip show.  She stopped at the last cotton thermal shirt, and her
eyes glittered in the dim light.

"You'd better find something to cover me with, Bill - something hot.
I'm going to be one huge goosebump as soon as I take this off..." 
Bill agreeably slipped his body over hers, pressing her down into the
flannel sheets beneath her, wrapping himself all around her.  He
nuzzled her ear and nipped the lobe, then soothed the bite with his
tongue.

"Not all your goosebumps, I hope... here are two very sweet bumps
I'd like to keep as is."  He followed his words with his mouth,
opening it over a small nipple and tenderly stroking her.  Tara
wrapped her arms around his broad back and sighed into his hair as he
kissed and nuzzled her body.  Loving Bill was always so sweet... so
very sweet.  He could be a grouch and a smart-ass; could open his
mouth and say all the wrong things and could drive her absolutely
batty with frustration over his stubbornness.  But nobody was more
tender and sweet to love, than her Bill... nobody.  She returned all
his kisses with equal amounts of her own caresses, and when he moved
to part her legs and slid inside her, Tara held him tightly and her
gasps and moans were buried against his shoulder as Bill thrust
deeply, touching the very heart of her.  Deep and hard, yet sweet. 
She whispered it into his sweat-dampened hair mere seconds after she
shuddered all around him, and felt him tighten in response and begin
to release within her.

"My Sweetheart... Billy... so sweet..."

They fell asleep cocooned in warmth, joined together in body and
hearts beating in time.

**************


Mid-morning found only a few of the group up and functioning; it was
still somewhat dark outside, though the day was slowly breaking. 
Loud yapping and barking broke into the quiet of the day, as the big
Husky dove into fresh piles of new snow, snorting enthusiastically,
rolling in the yard of Mary's cabin.  Around the corner Skinner
slapped another log on the block and split it neatly in two, then
turned the log and divided it in half once more.  He'd been chopping
wood for almost an hour and had peeled off layers of outerwear; clad
in a down vest and a thick flannel shirt his face still shone with
perspiration.  A lantern filled with kerosene hung on a nail in the
cabin wall, high enough to illuminate enough of the chopping area to
afford him some basic safety.  

It was hard work but Skinner welcomed the opportunity for physical
exercise.  He was used to running several miles a day, working out on
weight machines and sometimes catching an evening swim in the pool at
his building.  Now he would have to find alternate means of fitness.
Judging by the amount of work that would have to be done every day,
just to keep the village operating... he didn't think he'd have a
problem staying in shape.

Just as he bent down for another log, a huge furry body tackled him
from behind, and Skinner found himself face down in the snow with a
hundred pounds of Nanook sitting on him, happily licking his neck and
any other part of his face she could reach.  Skinner spit out a
mouthful of snow and roared at the overjoyed dog.

"Get OFF me, you horse!  You - blecch!"  Anything else he'd been
about to say was swallowed up when he turned his head to glare at the
unrepentant pup and she promptly licked him right in his open mouth. 
The dog had the worst breath he'd smelled in a long time, Skinner
decided, as he tried to wipe his mouth; Nanook immediately grabbed
hold of the sleeve of his shirt and tried to play tug-of-war with his
arm, still half-sitting on him.   Finally Skinner was able to get
enough of his arms free to push the heavy dog away, sitting up and
keeping a hand on the happy animal's shoulder, stopping her from
jumping him again.  He started to chuckle when the dog plopped its
rump down in the snow and slobbered all over his hand; it had been a
long time since any sort of female had attacked him like that...

"Nanook likes you."  The soft young voice came from behind him;
Skinner whipped around and saw Michael standing a few feet away,
hands in the pockets of his old parka and booted feet kicking idly at
clumps of snow.  The child was smiling very shyly; Skinner found
himself smiling in return. He ruffled the dog's thick fur before
letting her go.

"She's a nice dog.  A little over-friendly... but there's nothing
bad about that.  But her breath -!  She needs her teeth cleaned. 
What do you feed her?"  

Michael thought for a moment.  "Well - leftovers, mostly.  Dad used
to forget to get feed and Mom would just give her the scraps.  Lots
of fish-heads.  Nanook loves them.  She chews them right up, scales
and all."  Skinner could feel his gorge rise at the mental image of
this magnificent dog sitting with a nasty fish head propped in her
paws, gnawing away.  He managed a smile.

"Well, no wonder her breath reeks.  I'd say she needs some good old-
fashioned meat bones!"  No sooner were the words out of Skinner's
mouth than the dog began to root in the snow nearby the woodpile,
finally unearthing a huge bone and squatting down on her haunches to
munch in contentment.  Skinner gawked; he'd never seen an animal bone
that big.  He asked, "What IS that?"  The boy laughed at the
amazement apparent in Skinner's voice.

"It's a leg bone, back on the hindquarter - from a moose that Manly
killed a few months ago.  Nanook found it the first day we got here
and she's been workin' on it ever since.  It'll take her a long time
to eat it all."  Michael sat down in the snow next to his beloved pet
and scratched her head while she chomped, feeling the vibration of
her crunching teeth against the bone.  He looked up at the big man
who'd picked up the axe and another log to chop - and he was shy and
curious all at the same time.

"Are you and my Aunt Mary dating?"  The innocent yet frank question
stopped Skinner in mid-swing, and he lowered the axe and stared at
the boy.

"I just met your aunt, Michael - why would you think something like
that?"  Michael blushed, but bravely blundered on.

"She looks at you. And you look at her.  You know... that look.  My
dad... he used to look at my mom that way.  My sister looked at her
boyfriends that way.  I just wondered, that's all."  A shrug from one
thin shoulder made the asking seem very casual - but Skinner was able
to see beyond the nonchalance.  He put aside the axe and pushed the
log off the stump, then sat down on it and regarded Michael with a
serious expression on his face.

"I think your Aunt Mary is a very nice lady.  I think she is very
strong and very brave.  But she just lost her husband, whom she loved
very much.  I would never think she's ready to date someone else -
and I would respect her wishes above all.  I would respect her." 
Michael had been searching Skinner's eyes while he'd been speaking -
and must have found what he was looking for because he nodded, and
smiled at the big man.  

"I think my Aunt Mary likes you.  I think I do, too - and I know
Nanook does.  She doesn't just kiss any old person she meets.  She's
choosy.  Just like my Aunt Mary."  With those revealing words Michael
smiled another little shy smile, got up and left, whistling to his
dog.  Skinner stared after both of them, the thin Native boy and the
bounding dog... and a wide smile spread across his face.  He picked
up his axe and got back to work, humming a little.

*************

The morning the men chose to fly into Barrow was clear but cold. 
Mulder tromped through the loose snow, keeping to the road and doing
his best to avoid the potholes.  The pack he carried was heavy and
either it wasn't as cold as he'd originally thought, or he was
becoming acclimated to the snow very quickly, for he was actually
working up a sweat.  

He reached the runway a few minutes later; Skinner was already
there, pumping fuel.  They had found a small fuel tank on wheels;
Manly had called it a 'dewar cart'.  Since the main fuel tanks sat at
the end of the runway it was easier to pull the little dewar cart
behind a snowmobile and fill it up at the tanks, then bring it back
to the jet and pump.  Skinner had discovered one full dewar
equaled one full tank on the jet.

Now Mulder called to his ex-AD and friend, "How's it coming?" 
Skinner's head popped around the side of the jet, wiping
perspiration from his face.

"Almost done.  Damn, it's hot."  Mulder chuckled at the sight of the
big guy fanning at his clothes with one hand while he pumped fuel
with the other.  Obviously Skinner had acclimated even more quickly
than the rest of them, for his parka and watch cap were draped over a
wing and he wore only a thick sweater over his jeans and a heavy pair
of work gloves.  Mulder reached the open flap and dumped his bag
inside, then walked around to the side of the jet where Skinner was
just topping off.  They had decided to take the larger Lear, in case
some of the Barrow folks wanted to leave.  Somehow Mulder doubted
they would.

He ran a hand along the Lear's gleaming side, commenting, "It was a
real stroke of luck that some big-shot tourist left this in
Deadhorse, you know - Warren Ooma about fell over when I told him we
had not only one Lear, but two.  Manly wasn't so surprised.  He told
me a private jet full of executives flying up to Deadhorse and
Prudhoe on tourist runs are not uncommon.  We really did luck out,
though.  Manly's plane is in good shape but it's a small prop.  I
hope he knows how to work on these things if any problems arise." 
Skinner nodded as he replaced the hose on the dewar and locked it
down. 

"We manage each day, Mulder.  That's all we can do.  We get Barrow
cleaned up and get this village as secure as we can make it... and
hope to Christ the aliens leave us be.  A vaccine would be a Godsend.
Let's hope Scully can make it happen."  The two men finished packing
their gear and walked back to the village to get Mary, who would go
with them and help them talk to the Barrow survivors.  She had asked
to accompany them, explaining that they'd react best to one of their
own.  And Jon Honea had agreed, encouraging Skinner and Mulder to let
her come along. 

Now they stood outside Mary's cabin, stomping snow from their boots
before knocking and then entering.  Mary was in the small kitchen
serving her father a steaming bowl of soup.  Mulder eyed the pot
hungrily, and Mary laughed and spooned some into a bowl for him.

"It's venison again... sorry.  You must think that's all we eat! 
But the meat can be tough and gamey, so we make it into soup most of
the time, and Sophie made a ton of it that first night.  This is
close to the last of it.  Caribou is up next - that we can just cook
like steak."  Skinner signed resignedly.

"Not that we'll be able to enjoy any of it..."  Jon Honea grinned
around a piece of biscuit, and nodded.

"You will have a lot of work to accomplish in Barrow.  The people
are kind, but wary of whites, especially the older Native population.
Mary's presence will help quite a bit.  They will want you to stay
there, Mary."  His eyes were calm as they locked with hers -
accepting.  Mary shook her head and moved around the table to hug the
frail shoulders of her father.

"I will not move there, Dad.  It isn't safe.  I won't leave Sophie
and Warren, the rest of our people - I can't.  And Michael - he would
hate Barrow.  No, I am staying put."  Jon Honea smiled with quiet
pride at his child's words.  She was his only remaining young one -
in his heart Jon knew this.  The light that usually made his entire
body feel buoyant and content... huge pieces of it had darkened,
beginning with the loss of Anna.  Michael's orphaned state only
brought it home to him.  He and Mary were the last of his blood; this
he knew... He pressed a kiss to his daughter's cheek, and his gaze
fell on Skinner.  He nodded once, and spoke softly.

 "Take care of her, Walter.  She is my treasure."  Skinner's
response was sincere.

"With my life, Jon - I promise."

Goodbyes were kept to a minimum, quite deliberately.  For Mulder it
was one of the hardest things he'd had to do - get on that little jet
and leave Scully.  Not only because she was the love of his life, and
his bride.  That certainly was a large chunk of it - but his fear of
leaving her in the village owed a great deal to their present
circumstances.  The unthinkable had occurred within the world, and
from now on all bets were off - anything could happen to them,
anywhere they traveled in any direction from the village.  They were
not sure what they would find in Barrow.  Reasonably certain that the
survivors left behind were sound in mind and body... well, it was the
best they could assume, until they got there and saw for themselves. 
They had emailed and spoken to these people.  But you never knew...

Scully held him tightly, standing at the side of the runway with her
bare head gleaming in the pale sunlight.  They'd chosen to leave
while it was still light; knowing they'd reach Barrow at dusk.  A
light wind was blowing, nothing strong enough to prevent them from
taking off.  

Mulder framed his wife's sweet face in his hands and covered her
mouth with soft, gentle kisses.  Tiny ones followed, over her eyes
and down each cheek until he could bury his face in her neck, rocking
her a little in his arms.  She pressed into him silently,
understanding that now more than ever words were not needed.  

Then it was time for them to leave, and it was so hard but he forced
himself to let her go after one more tight squeeze. For another
minute they stood face to face, locking eyes and hearts, before with
one last kiss and a soft, "See you in a few days, Scully,"... Mulder
climbed into the little jet.  And before he shut the flap he smiled
at his wife and murmured, "Love you, Baby, so much..."  Her smile
echoed his, as did her soft reply.

"I love you too, Mulder.  Please be careful."


Scully shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand, watching the
small jet disappear into the endless white of the horizon.  He was
barely out of sight and she already missed him terribly.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, she slogged through the snow toward
the clinic.  She would keep busy and hope that the time spent apart
would pass quickly. She had plenty of research to do - not to mention
the fact that she hadn't done much in the way of unpacking in the
last four days.  She'd start by unpacking the medical supplies they
had brought with them.


**********

~ Chapter Twenty ~


An hour into his trip, Ty stopped the snowmobile.  Twisting around
in his seat, he popped open the saddlebags on the back of the machine
and pulled out a thermos of coffee.  Unscrewing the cap, he took a
long sip before recapping the container.  Rummaging around in the
saddlebags, his hands brushed against something familiar.  He smiled
at the welcome sight of the small red and yellow bag of Cheetos. 
Balancing the thermos between his thighs, he pinched the edges of the
bag between his fingers and pulled it open.  Happily crunching on the
cheesy treat - his one indulgence in the foods of the whites - he
made quick work of the bag.  Sighing regretfully when the bag was
empty, he shook the crumbs into his mouth and licked the orange
residue of the cheese dust from his fingertips.  Gulping down another
mouthful of coffee, he stuffed the empty bag into his pocket and
secured the thermos back in the saddlebag.  Twisting the ignition
switch, he leaned over the handlebars and once again was racing
toward Mt. Vu'luk.

***********

The trip to Barrow was very short - only about twenty minutes - but
it beat a longer, potentially dangerous trip by snowmobile.  A myriad
of lakes and low rough tundra would have made snowmobiling
treacherous, especially for anyone unfamiliar with the terrain. 
Mulder figured they could try it at a later date, if they needed to
return.

Privately he wondered if they would want to return to Barrow - to
leave the village.  It was so unlike him to feel reluctance at
reaching out and embracing the unknown.  All his life he'd been
curious, needing to know - digging for whatever truth he'd been
committed to discovering.  

Suddenly a part of him wanted nothing more than to hibernate, and
let the anguish outside his small new world suffer itself out, and
not suck him in.  It was selfish and short-minded and completely
against his professional code of ethics... and yet there it was.  Not
exactly fear, so much as dread.  And worry, too - mostly because he
was now responsible for someone other than himself, though he'd
always felt that way for Scully.  

It was different now.  He was different.  Marriage had made it
different - and it made no sense.  He was still the same person that
loved his partner to distraction. A ring on his finger should not
change things, but it did.

The Lear touched down lightly on a small runway; in the distance he
saw a great deal of frozen ice and recalled that Barrow was
surrounded by hundreds of lakes.  Skinner released the flaps and they
stepped out onto ice.  With a start Mulder realized the runway was
actually a lake.  He looked at Mary, catching her attention and
pointing to the ice beneath them.

"Ice - this is a lake?  What about flying in the summer?  Doesn't
this melt at all?"  Mary smiled and shook her head.

"The summer melts the surface of the more shallow lakes.  Some of
these are very deep and others are little more than ponds.  This is a
winter runway, easier to keep clear.  The main runway is used once in
a while during winter, but this one is closer to town.  We can walk
from here."    

They slung their packs over their shoulders and started their trek
into Barrow.

It took them ten minutes to reach the town limits, which looked
deserted.  They'd been told only a hundred or so people had stayed
behind, and as it was already dusk out they had not been expecting
anyone to meet them.  Mary led them down Browerville Road toward the
residential area.  As they walked, she spoke of Barrow.

"The town has always been a mixture of old and new.  Sixty percent
Native, mostly Inupiaq, and there are three schools and one bank. 
This early in the evening everyone will be over at the community
center.  Sophie figured they'd move there - leave their homes and
find a way to live together.  Safety in numbers, I suppose."  Skinner
looked off into the distance; it was darkening fast.  Small houses
lined the narrow street and lights were on here and there.  

Up ahead a low, rambling building loomed in the darkness, lights on
in almost every window.  Several ornate, snow-speckled totems stood
guard along the front walkway, and a series of tribal masks were
carved into the rough wooden exterior, each brightly painted.  The
double doors were unlocked; Mary led them through - and into another
world.

Here the Native influence was the norm, unfamiliar to Mulder and
Skinner, yet somehow comfortable.  There were sacred carvings and war
masks, tribal symbols painted on walls - bright patterns of black and
red and white.  Mulder noticed the raven figured heavily into most of
the artwork and tribal symbols, and he remembered what Jon Honea had
said about the sacredness of the large scavenging bird.

In the main Great Room about thirty people were gathered, quietly
talking amongst themselves.  Mary called a soft greeting and they all
rushed to her, hugging and clasping hands, relief and happiness
apparent on the faces of her friends as they exclaimed over her.
Mulder and Skinner stood back politely, until Mary laughingly
extricated herself and turned to perform introductions.

"Mr. Mulder and Mr. Skinner used to work for the FBI, and some of
you have already heard from them via email.  They will explain to you
why this happened - and what we need to do from here, to survive." 
She looked at Mulder.  So did Skinner, both of them confident to have
him lead the discussion.  Their faith in him meant a lot, given the
uncertainties he'd experienced lately.  Mulder smiled reassuringly at
his small audience, and began.

"First of all, I should tell you that the immediate danger is past,
but you cannot let your guard down.  It's not over yet..."

An hour later, the group had come to several conclusions, and
agreements.  These were very intelligent people; it hadn't taken them
long to realize that the food drops were infected.  The majority of
the older Native population usually refused processed products, and
they grieved for those younger members who had consumed the infected
foodstuffs.  A committee was formed to collect the remaining tainted
food, and destroy it.  The group, when told of the conspiracy, could
only shake their heads in sorrow.  Their relationship with the
Federal government had been shaky but mostly beneficial over the
years. The betrayal they now felt was great. 

**********

Scully pushed open the door to the clinic and flipped on the lights.
Shivering, she twisted the dial on the thermostat.  Leaving her coat
on until the warm air blowing gently through the vents had taken the
chill out of the clinic, she grabbed a box of supplies and began to
unpack them.  She was stuffing rolls of bandages into a closet when
she heard the whine of machinery in the distance.  Cocking her head
to one side, she walked over to the door and pulled it open.  She
stepped outside and looked around for the source of the sound that
seemed to be growing closer.  Suddenly, over the horizon, at the edge
of the town, she could see a snowmobile racing toward the village. 
The rider was making no attempt to reduce his speed as he crossed
into the village.  Scully hastily stepped back into the doorway as
the snowmobile raced past her.  She stuck her head back out of the
door and watched in horror as the rider lost control of his vehicle. 
The snowmobile careened wildly about and suddenly seemed to slip out
from beneath the rider who was flung from the speeding vehicle. 
Scully winced as she saw his body arch into the air before landing in
a sickening heap in the snow.  

She raced toward the fallen rider and dropped to her knees at his
side.  Peeling off her gloves, she turned his face toward her.  Blood
streamed down the side of his face from a large gash on his temple,
coating her fingers as she felt for a pulse.  The rider groaned and
rolled his head restlessly in the snow.  The young man, a boy really,
no older than seventeen, had the dark hair and skin of the Inupiaqs
and Scully wondered if he was from one of the surrounding villages.

She gently probed the gash on his forehead and called to him, trying
to rouse him.  "Can you hear me?" she asked, patting his cheeks with
her fingers.  "Come on, I need you to wake up now," she said
encouragingly.  The young man groaned and licked his lips.  He rolled
his head back and forth, his fingers reaching toward the injury on
his head as he moaned softly.  Scully ran her hands over his arms and
torso, then down his legs, searching for broken bones.  Finding none,
she looked back into the face of her patient.  She could see his
eyelids fluttering and she leaned very close to him, calling to him
softly.

She could hear excited voices and looked up to see several of the
villagers hurrying toward her.  Dropping her gaze back to the young
man, she began to speak to him again.  "What's your name?" she asked,
willing him to open his eyes.  He rubbed his forehead fretfully and
finally, his eyelids drifted open and he stared directly at her. 
Scully scrambled away from his body in terror as she saw the black
oil swirl over his dark eyes.  Glancing fearfully at her bloodstained
fingers, she plunged her hands into the snow, furiously scrubbing
them.  Her fingers were aching with the cold and she stuffed her
hands back into her gloves and stood up to intercept the villagers.

"Ty!" Beverly cried as she hurried toward her young cousin.  Scully
stepped into her path and used her body to block the other woman.

"No!" she cried, holding out her gloved hands in front of her body. 

The villagers stopped, surprised at her vehemence.  "That's Ty!"
Beverly protested, trying to step around Scully.  "He needs help!" 
Scully clutched the woman's arm tightly and whirled her away from the
young man lying in the snow.

"You can't!" she shouted.  "He's infected!"  She continued to hold
onto Beverly and looked up in relief at the sight of her brother
loping across the snow.

"What's going on?" Bill demanded as he leaned over the upended
snowmobile to turn off the motor.  In the sudden silence, Scully kept
her eyes fastened on Beverly's as she tried to explain.  

"That's Ty," she told her brother.  "The young man Mulder spoke with
by e-mail yesterday."  Looking around at the people
surrounding her, she shook her head and loosened her grip on
Beverly's arm.  "I don't know how, but he's been infected by the
virus," she said sadly.  "You can't touch him."  She leaned her face
close to Beverly's for a moment then looked up at the others.  "Do
you understand what I'm telling you?" she asked.  "This virus is
highly contagious and none of you have been exposed to it."  Her
fierce eyes scanned over the villagers as she tried to impress on
them the importance of not coming into contact with an infected
person.

Her smile was sympathetic as Beverly slumped in defeat then lifted
hopeful eyes toward Scully's.  "Can you help him?" she begged. 
Scully shook her head.  

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly.  She knelt in the snow next to Ty,
her hands hovering impotently over his crumpled form, terrified to
touch him again.  The boy coughed and once again opened his eyes to
look at her.  Scully forced herself not to flinch as the oil drifted
over his eyes in a horrifying pattern.  The black film cleared for a
moment, just as it had done with Charlie, and she could see the fear
in his dark brown eyes.

"Ty," she said urgently, leaned as close to him as she dared. 
"You've been infected with the virus," she told him sorrowfully.  Ty
coughed again and a thin line of oil trickled down his chin.

"Cheetos," he rasped painfully.  Scully shook her head and looked at
the others in confusion.  She glanced back down at the stricken boy.  

"I don't understand," she told him.

"Cheetos," he repeated.  "They're my weakness," he confessed in a
thin voice.  His smile was self-mocking as he realized he had signed
his death warrant by giving into the temptation of his favorite
snack.  "Are you the doctor?" he wheezed.  Scully nodded and reached
out tentatively to stroke her gloved fingertips over his forehead,
pushing back an unruly lock of hair.  

"Can you heal me?" the boy asked, hopefully.  Scully's fingers
faltered as they brushed over his forehead and she shook her head
sadly.

"I'm so sorry," she told him.  "I'm trying to work on a vaccine, but
right now... I'm very, very sorry, Ty."  Bright tears clung to her
lashes, spilling down her cheek.  "There's nothing I can do for you,"
she whispered.  Tears slipped from the corners of the boy's eyes,
running back into his hair.  

"Then I need you to help me," he said as his pleading eyes locked
onto hers.  Scully broke away from his intense gaze and lifted her
eyes heavenward.  How many, Lord?  She railed inwardly.  How many
people am I going to have to kill before this is over?  Keeping a
tight rein on her emotions, she nodded and scrambled to her feet.

"Please," she said.  "Please, for your own sakes, don't touch him."
Scully looked at her brother for help.  "Bill?"  He nodded.  

"Go ahead, we'll wait here," he told her.  He watched, surprised
that she hadn't run back to her cabin to retrieve her gun.  

Scully walked woodenly to a cabinet in one of the treatment rooms
and jerked open the door.  Pulling supplies out of the cabinet, she
found what she was looking for.  Clutching the items in her hands,
she turned toward the door, spinning back to the closet and
impulsively grabbing a few more things from it.  Hurrying back
outside, she knelt in the snow by the dying boy's side.

"Ty," she called.  He rolled his head toward her again and tried to
smile.  Scully gnawed on her lower lip as she contemplated the
enormity of this thing she was going to ask of him.

"I need to take some samples of your blood first," she told him. 
"Please.  I think it will be helpful in my research," she said
awkwardly.  Ty swallowed hard and nodded, weakly lifting his arm off
the ground and offering it to her.  Scully knuckled tears out of her
eyes as she unzipped his coat, easing his arm out of the sleeve. 
Rolling up the sleeve of his thermal shirt, she tore open an alcohol
wipe and swiped it over the flesh on the inside of his elbow.  She
tore the wrapper from a syringe and placed the needle against the
soft skin she had just prepared.  Her heart tripped wildly as she saw
the lines of the oil squirming and wriggling beneath his skin. 
Changing her plans, she pierced his skin with the needle, chasing the
squiggling lines of the alien invader and drawing them into the
syringe.  She pierced his flesh over and over, apologizing each time,
as she aggressively pursued the squirming lines of the oil.  

When she was satisfied that she had gathered an ample portion, she
pulled the needle tip from the syringe and quickly capped it, setting
the vial into the snow.  She picked up another syringe and this time
she withdrew his blood, filling six vials with the bright red liquid.
Setting the blood filled vials aside, she fumbled in her pockets for
the rest of her supplies.  She pulled out another syringe and plunged
the long bore needle into the bottle of morphine that she had taken
from the supply closet in the clinic.  Filling the syringe with a
lethal dose of the narcotic, she looked up at the people gathered
around them.

"It's the only thing we can do," she said, begging them with her
eyes to understand and to forgive what she was going to do next.  Her
new neighbors clutched each other tightly and Beverly called out in a
grief-stricken voice. 

"I love you, Ty."  

Scully pulled at the boy's shirt, exposing his chest to the cold. 
Her eyes were compassionate, sad, angry and frightened as she met his
gaze.  The oil was swirling in strange patterns over his eyes, one
second obscuring them from her and the next leaving him clear-eyed.

"I'm ready," he told her as he closed his eyes and turned his face
away from hers.  Scully lifted her hand over his chest, whispering a
muffled prayer as she thrust the needle into his chest in one hard
motion, pushing the plunger down and sending the lethal dose of
medicine into his heart.  Ty arched and cried out as the morphine
flooded his system.  His body jerked twice before settling into the
snow.  Still... still as death.

Scully stood and hung her head as the oath she had taken as a doctor
leaped into her mind.  'First do no harm," it began and she fought
back the bitter tears that were blurring the image of this poor boy
lying dead by her hand in the snow at her feet.  Gulping in a deep
breath, she angrily wiped the tears from her cheeks and faced the
others.

"We need to burn his body," she said apologetically.  "It's the only
way I know to kill this thing."   Beverly was leaning heavily on 
Sophie, the older woman supporting the younger as tears trickled 
down their cheeks.  

"I'm so sorry," Scully said brokenly as she turned away.  She
swallowed hard and pressed on.  "We can't wait," she said.  Even now,
the black oil was oozing from his eyes and nose, pooling beneath his
head, and staining the snow black.

Manly stepped forward.  "In the spring, we hold a gathering for all
of the villages to celebrate the long days and returning sun.  The
gathering lasts for two days and there is dancing and singing and
eating.  We cook enough for everyone to eat in a large stone pit." 
His voice broke and he cleared his throat, struggling for an even
breath to continue.

"The pit... it will be big enough for what we need to do," he
finished.  Scully nodded.  

"The fire has to burn very hot and very long," she cautioned. Manly
nodded and turned, trudging wearily to set up for the gruesome task
of building the fire.  Scully looked at her brother.  "Bill - go with
him," she asked softly.  Bill looked at his younger sister closely
for a moment before following Manly across the snow.  Scully watched
Bill set off after the other man to help him build the funeral pyre. 
Swallowing heavily, Scully stepped closer to Beverly.

"Why don't you go home and lie down," she suggested gently as she
studied the other woman's face with worried eyes.  Beverly shook her
head and pulled herself up.

"No," she said in a strong voice.  "No. I want to be with him." 
Scully nodded, understanding Beverly's need to see her cousin through
to the end.

"Go on, then," she said, tilting her head toward the place where
Bill and Manly labored over the stone pit.  "I'll bring him," she
promised as she glanced down at Ty's still form.  Sophie murmured
softly to Beverly and the two women slowly made their way across the
snowfield to join Bill and Manly.  Scully looked up as several other
villagers remained nearby.  

"Patrick," she said gesturing to the dark-eyed man.  Patrick's head
jerked up when she called his name.  Scully glanced down at Ty and
then looked back up at Patrick.  "Would you please get Reverend
Honea?" she asked softly.  Patrick nodded solemnly and turned toward
the cluster of cabins at the far end of the village.  "And Patrick,"
she called after him.  He spun back around to face her.

"Yeah, Doc - what else do you need?" he asked.  Scully glanced
around the quiet village.

"You'd better let the others know," she said.  Patrick sighed
heavily and hung his head for a moment.

"Yeah," he muttered.  "Yeah, alright."  He turned again and sprinted
toward the cabins.  Scully waited until he was gone before turning
back to Ty.  She grabbed the vials filled with Ty's blood and the oil
and carried them into the clinic, carefully checking that the caps on
the vials were secure before setting them down in the tiny
refrigerator in the office.  She grabbed a galvanized steel bucket
from a closet and carried it outside with her.  Scully gently moved
the boy's body and scooped the snow stained with his blood and the
oil into the bucket and set it aside.  She'd come back for it later;
she would keep it frozen and use it in her attempts to create a
vaccine against this monstrous enemy...  

Crouching down, she slipped her arms under Ty's locking her hands
across his chest and began to pull him across the snow.  Halfway
across the expanse of the village, she stopped to catch her breath. 
Ty was not very tall and his body had not matured into the heavier
muscled frame of a man, but Scully was nonetheless exhausted from
dragging him through the snow.  Yet she couldn't allow anyone else to
come into contact with him.  As it was, she feared for her own health
and prayed that her body had built up immunity to the virus.

The villagers waited and watched as the tiny woman struggled to pull
the young man's body through the snow.  When she was less than ten
yards away, she stopped again, panting heavily.  Her hair was damp
with sweat and her face was flushed with exertion. She took a deep
breath and tugged him the rest of the way.  The pit was about three
feet deep and was surrounded by stone and mortar.  Bill and Manly had
filled the pit with firewood and coal.  A canister of kerosene rested
near Manly's feet.  Scully struggled awkwardly to pull Ty's body onto
the pyre, raising a warning hand when Bill stepped forward to assist
her.

"No!" she called out sharply.  "Stay back!"  Bill aborted his
forward movement and fell into place beside Manly again.  Scully's
breath escaped her in harsh pants as she labored to maneuver Ty onto
the pyre.  At last she stepped back and reached for the kerosene,
liberally dousing the boy's body and soaking the wood and coals
beneath him as well.

All of the surviving members of the village were there with a few
exceptions.  Tara had stayed in their cabin with the children,
reluctant to expose them to more death.  She had offered to stay with
Michael as well, but the boy felt that his place was at the funeral. 
He had followed his grandfather through the village.  Now, Jon
murmured a quiet prayer, commending Ty's soul to God and voicing the
hope that in Ty's death, they would find an answer to a way to
survive in this new world.  

Manly and Bill had soaked rags in the kerosene and wrapped them
around the ends of several pieces of firewood.  Now they lit the rags
and tossed the wood into the pit.  The fire ignited with a whoosh and
a roar as flames quickly engulfed the pyre and Ty's body.  Scully
looked down and saw that her parka was stained with his blood.  She
stripped off her gloves and parka and tossed them into the pit as
well, hoping that she was doing everything possible to eradicate the
presence of the virus from the village.  

Now she stood, apart from the others, shivering in the cold,
watching the flames shoot into the darkening sky, berating herself
for not being able to do more; for not being able to save Ty.  Guilt
and sorrow bore down heavily on her and she could not lift her head
to look at the others.  She was startled by a touch on her arm. 
Looking up, she saw Sarah Tuluum slip out of her own parka before
draping it around Scully's shoulders.

"Oh no, Sarah," Scully protested.  "I can't take your coat!"  She
shrugged out of the coat and tried to hand it back to the other
woman.  Sarah shook her head and pushed the parka back toward Scully.

"I've lived here all of my life," she told the younger woman.  "I'm
used to this cold, but you are not."  Once again, she draped the coat
over Scully's shoulders.  "Keep the coat, Doctor," she admonished. 
"We cannot afford for you to become ill.  Besides, I have other coats
in my home."

The kindness and acceptance that she saw in Sarah's eyes humbled
Scully.  Smiling gratefully, she slipped her arms into the sleeves,
closing her eyes momentarily in relief from the biting cold.  She
wrapped an arm around Sarah's shoulder and the two women watched as
the flames danced and climbed into the dusky sky.

**********

END OF PART TWO