From mason@umr.edu Mon Feb 24 12:47:03 1997 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New: Delta S (6/8) PG-13 From: mason@umr.edu (Niki) Date: 24 Feb 1997 18:47:03 GMT -------- Intro: This was started awhile ago and I've been getting a lot of demands (from the same two people) to finish it. Yes, it is MSR, and yes, there is another plot in here besides that. Yes, this is a crossover. I'm not telling you with what, though, until later. Why? Because I don't want to, that's why. Spoilers? Maybe some very vague references to the fourth season. I doubt people that have seen the episodes will even pick up on some of them though, so it's safe to read for those that haven't seen them yet. This is not happening now. Disclaimer Part 1: M/S and related characters belong to CC and company. No long term infringement intended and no profit was gained. Disclaimer Part 2: To be seen at the end of the story. Category: Crossover-Action/Adventure-MSR-PG-13 A NC-17 version has also been posted. Delta S (6/8) By Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (2/23/97) Scully closed the door behind her and tried to comprehend what she was seeing. The bathroom consisted of a narrow shower stall, a minuscule sink and a toilet, but it would suit her purposes. She adjusted the water temperature and stepped under the spray. Letting the water wake her up, she could hear the extra sound of the tap and the occasional click of metal against porcelain. She frowned at the thought of the sink full of whiskers she knew she would encounter when she brushed her teeth. She had been at his home enough and seen the motel sinks to know he didn't rinse them out well when he was finished. A few minutes later, she stepped out of the stall and wrapped the provided towel around herself. Her morning ritual was almost complete when Mulder stuck his head in the door. "Are you ready yet?" he asked as he passed her a cup of coffee. "Almost," she said as she took a tentative sip and stared at her reflection. She wasn't going to bother with the minimal amount of makeup she usually wore, mainly because the only clothes she had were the ones she had brought along for her vacation and the outfit she had been married in. On second thought she went ahead and applied the makeup. It would dress up her casual clothes a little more. She was reaching in her bag for the last item when she sensed Mulder's presence again. He looked so solemn and sexy that she had to smile as she took the pink rectangle out. She pushed one of the pills through the foil and into her palm. "Don't." "What?" He nodded to her hand. Logic fought with the flutterings of excitement. "Mulder ... now's not a good time." As she waited for his response, she realized she was praying for him to argue with her. "You're right." He crossed the small space and gently kissed her. "Maybe someday though?" "Yes," she agreed without hesitation. "I'll be in the kitchen. I think I saw some pop-tarts." He turned and left. She stared at her palm for a moment and then picked up the pill with her fingers to bring it to her mouth. Now really wasn't a good time. Good God, their planet was being invaded by aliens. Now was definitely not a good time. * * * * * July 3rd, 6:03 am, PST "Agent Mulder, Dr. Scully, this is such a pleasure." Scully gingerly flexed her fingers after the enthusiastic hand shake with Data on speed. "Dr. Okun --" "If you'll hurry, we can get you through decontamination and I can show you around our research area. We're in the middle of running some tests right now, and I would love to get some of your input." "Dr. Okun," she tried again, but he had already taken off down the hall. Mulder just shook his head with a wry grin. "Forget it, Scully. We'll let him show us the place and see if someone a little less ..." "Hyperactive?" "Can answer our questions," he finished with a nod. They were left alone to put on the outfits that resembled surgical scrubs. She was pulling her hair back when she said, "Mulder?" "Yeah?" He was looking at the face mask and frowning in confusion. "I didn't take it." "Take what?" He finally figured out how to put the thing on and started doing so. "The pill. I washed it down the sink." Her hands were shaking, causing her to drop the string she was trying to tie. She looked at her fingers for a moment and then up to meet his gaze. "Dana?" "Time is what we make of it, Mulder." He pulled the mask away from his face and bent to look at her more closely. "You're saying now is a good time?" Her lips twisted into a half smile. "It may already be out of our hands." He stepped back to put the little booties over his shoes. "Why?" His hands were shaking as well, causing the paper shoes to crinkle in his grasp. "I missed yesterday. With the wedding and then the ships and ... and I'm in the middle of my cycle." She wasn't looking at him again. "I didn't realize it until this morning." "So it's already possible?" he asked as he opened the door to the changing room. "Anything's possible, Mulder." He smirked at her answer and then placed a quick kiss on her lips. "I've been saying that for years." Pulling the mask back up, he said, "Come on. Let's go see how accurate the guys' information has been on this subject." * * * * * July 3rd, 6:35 am, PST Skinner listened in horror as the accounts kept coming in. Their weapons were useless against the invaders. After wiping out the squadrons, the small attack ships had gone after the planes that were still grounded. Then they headed north-east. "They're going after NORAD," he said as an aside to Mitchell. "They've already wiped out DC, it's next in line on the military and governmental list." Mitchell nodded his agreement. He then asked one of the people monitoring the transmissions, "Did we do any damage to them?" "No, sir. The small crafts seemed to be equipped with the same type of force field as the larger ships." "Did you know?" Skinner finally asked after several minutes, but he didn't think so. Mitchell seemed too worried for that to have been the case. "No. But we were starting to suspect it. Dr. Okun has had three crews working around the clock since the ships got here." He stared at the map of the US for another moment. "We hadn't been able to figure out the energy source. All of its computer systems have been down since the crash, but with their arrival, they're up and running. Dr. Okun --" "Sir, they've just hit NORAD. We've lost what was left of the satellite links." Silence descended at the additional loss of life and the destruction of the American government. It was several moments before someone spoke. "Sir..." "What?" "Sir, there's an incoming message. It's from the President." Mitchell crossed the space in a great hurry and put the headset on. With a complete look of awe, he said, "Yes, sir... Yes, sir... Yes, sir... Yes, sir." After he ended the connection, he turned to the room at large. "Air Force One and her two escorts will be landing here in less than an hour." There was a moment of stunned silence before controlled chaos broke out as people hurried to prepare the base for their Commander in Chief. Major Mitchell turned to Skinner. "Sir, if you would follow me, I would like your help in explaining a few things. And Dr. Okun will be needed as well." "The President knew about this place?" "No, he was just informed a few minutes ago. But the Secretary of Defense was informed when he became the Director of the CIA. We've gotten most of our funding filtered through them." In retrospect, that was not a surprise. "Who else knew?" "Not a great number of people have been briefed. It helps that the UFO community has made such a big deal out of it. Most civilians ignore the issue, convinced the others are ... unstable." "Tell me about it," he muttered, thinking about all the jokes and shit Mulder had put up with for years. * * * * * July 3rd, 7:45 am, PST "... Or as some of us have come to call it ... the Freak Show ... hehemmm. Yes." Mulder ran his hand through his hair and tried to ignore the lingering feel of the paper scrubs on his skin. It was a little embarrassing to meet the President and his entourage while looking like one of the other drones in the room, but at least he and Scully were included in the rest of the tour. He couldn't quite explain what he was feeling at the moment and he doubted she could either. Before them, incased in tubes of glass were three beings he had been searching for, ever since he started working on the X-Files. They didn't exactly resemble the most popular drawings of the Greys, but it was pretty damn close. "Scully?" Dr. Okun was still talking, but neither one of them was really listening. He watched her eyes and knew she was going through the same things he was. The anger, the excitement, the fear ... all were battling for control. Most of the people followed Major Mitchell as he led them back to the hanger with the spacecraft. One man hung back, unimpressed and looking a little bored with the review of things he already knew. Scully's eyes were blazing when she turned to the Secretary of Defense. "Why did you keep it a secret?" "It was a matter of national security and in the best interest of the American people." "That's bullshit and you know it." "Agent Scully --" Skinner tried to remind her who she was. He wasn't used to displays of emotion like that from her. Mulder, yes. Scully, no. "I'm sorry, sir. But I would think that with all the work Mulder and I have done with the X-Files over the years, we would have been let in on the big secret. It's not like we would have published anything in The Lone Gunman." She shot a quick look at Mulder to see if he agreed with her on that. "Is this where all our evidence has disappeared to?" "Agent Scully, I have no idea what you are talking about." "Of course you don't. Deny everything. They are at our front door and you are still denying your involvement." Mulder knew Scully had wanted to say the same thing, but he had beat her to it. He could also see she wasn't upset by that though. The man turned and walked away. Mulder started to follow, intent on learning more about the ships and the aliens. Scully had the same thought, but Skinner calling her name stopped her in her tracks. Not quite meeting his eyes, she said, "I apologize for my outburst, sir." "That's not what I was going to say. I agree with you. We've been kept in the dark for years and you and Mulder have ferreted out their leaks and new leads for them without being told even what you needed to know. I was going to say --" "Dr. Scully! We've got a live one!" She and Skinner both turned to watch as Dr. Okun started running towards them. The pocket protector almost leapt from its perch in the man's haste. "What?" "A pilot is bringing in a live one that he shot down! Come on! Oh, I've been dreaming of this!" Mulder was close behind him, his eyes lit with expectation. Dr. Okun kept shouting instructions as he ordered people to set up an OR. "Scully, you're going to be in there with them, right?" "You better believe it, Mulder. Sir, if you'll excuse me ..." "No need to ask, Scully. I'm sure they'll have an observation room, so we'll see you there." She turned to follow the members of the staff that were headed back towards the biological research area. "God, I hope this one doesn't end up in some cheesy "Alien Autopsy" production video, too," she muttered to herself. "I am now convinced that this is all a dream," Mulder stated as he and Skinner waited for the others to catch up with them. "It's been almost like a nightmare for me. I would prefer to find myself still in my Las Vegas hotel room and suffering from a bad case of indigestion." "So would you have preferred to learn about our marriage from the rumor mill?" "I could have brushed it off as paranoid speculation on many people's part, if that were the case. As it is, I can't deny it." The President and the other arrived. "I want to speak with the pilot first. Maybe he knows something about their shields." Major Mitchell nodded. "We can meet with him upstairs. It's going to take Dr. Okun a few minutes to get things prepped in the OR." Mulder reluctantly followed as they headed towards the elevator. He wanted to go to the observation room right then, but if the only thing he was going to be able to see was a bunch of instruments laying about, he could bypass the experience. He still got the chills when he thought about surgeons and their bags of not-so-medieval torture devices. * * * * * July 3rd, 8:45 am, PST Mulder wished they would all just shut up. Dr. Okun had disappeared with the alien over thirty minutes ago and Mulder had a feeling that they were missing something important. But both the President and the others, including Skinner, kept asking the pilot questions. Finally, they let the guy go get cleaned up. Mulder started to lead the way to the elevator and toward the research area, but Skinner's glare made him hang back to let Mitchell and the higher ups lead the way. He knew the procedure on the alien was being taped; he heard someone reassure Mitchell of that, but he still wanted to see every second of it. He almost felt he was qualified to be in the room because of all the times he had helped Scully. But if the jackasses would hurry up, watching would be just as informative. Suddenly, he felt as if he was missing out on something big and picked up his pace again. "Mulder." He stopped at Skinner's recognizable tone. "Yes?" "They aren't going anywhere. Slow down." "Something is going on," he said and resumed his former speed. Skinner watched Mulder's back for a second. "Yeah. Your aliens have landed," he muttered under his breath. He hurried to catch up, not willing to admit it, but he was as impatient as Mulder to finally get some answers. They both had to cool their heels at the door until Mitchell punched in the code. Skinner stepped into the observation room last and had to side step quickly to avoid running into a stalled Mulder. Skinner frowned in confusion. Through the glass, he couldn't see anything. A white smoke filled the room and occasionally the sparks from a live, loose electrical wire could be seen through the haze. Suddenly Dr. Okun was thrown against the glass. Both his and Mulder's hands went to their hips, reaching for weapons that weren't there. "God. Scully." Mulder whirled around, barely giving Skinner enough time to get out of his way. "Mulder," he called and followed as the younger man hurried through the corridors. The sound of gunfire stopped him in his tracks. A second later, he was on his way back to the observation room. Mulder rounded the corner, his heart rate increasing even more at the sound of gunshots. That tentacle around the doctor's neck brought to mind images of a B-movie octopus with Scully being strangled by one of the other arms. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't acting out of hand. If this had happened last week, he would still be acting the same way. And he was right. Their feelings weren't new, just their admission of them. He stared at the number pad for the lock for an eternity and then tried to peer through the small window. It was still too smoky to make out anything beyond the electrical sparks. He glared at the lock again and started punching numbers. "Mulder? What are you doing?" He spun around, his stomach in his throat. "Scully?" She smiled as she tied the drawstring on another set of scrubs. "What?" "Are you OK?" She came up even with him. "Mulder, what's going on?" His relief was making his knees weak. "Why weren't you in there?" He frowned in confusion. "They needed Mom's help with all the people on the surface. I went to get her and then I had to use the restroom." Her frown matched his. "What's wrong, Mulder?" she repeated. "Okun's dead. I think they're all dead." They both moved to the side as the door started to open. Mulder actually grinned when he saw who was on the other side. "Scully, you're OK?" Skinner asked. She nodded while she and Mulder walked into the room and started at the destruction. "I'm fine," she replied automatically. "What happened?" "The President's ordered a nuclear strike." * * * * * July 3rd, 6:45 pm, PST She found him in a borrowed lawn chair at the edge of the RV encampment. He was staring at the sun as it began its descent on the other side of the mountains. She didn't say anything as she sat down in the sand next to him. Mulder was the first to break the silence. "Nimziki knows the cigarette smoking man." Scully didn't respond. Somehow she wasn't surprised to learn the Secretary of Defense knew their enemies, but that wasn't what was bothering him. Finally he continued, "If we destroy them, we'll never find Samantha." "Mulder..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to sort her feelings. "You've asked me before if I've ever believed she had been abducted by aliens." He nodded once in agreement. "I still don't believe that," she finished. She held up her hand with a smile to stop the debate she could see forming. "It's not because I don't believe in EBE's, Mulder. The proof on that is irrefutable. I think she was taken to control your father and they are still using her as a way to control you." "You still don't think the government had some kind of deal going with them?" "If there was a deal, I think we got the short end of the stick." They were both silent as the sun set the sky on fire. Softly she said, "The bombers have been deployed." "I know." "If you think about it, our chances of finding her have increased." He smiled slightly and trailed his fingers along her cheek. Scully closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. "Is that before or after we're exterminated?" The smiled turned bitter, but before she could reply, he said, "Sorry, Scully. The nukes might actually work." He tried to find some enthusiasm in the possibility. "Do you want to go down to the war room?" "No. I just want to sit here for awhile longer." His actions contradicted his words and the lawn chair creaked as he stood up. The question was in her eyes about what he was doing. He answered by sitting down behind her and pulling her close. * * end part 6 * * From mason@umr.edu Mon Feb 24 12:47:37 1997 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New: Delta S (7/8) PG-13 From: mason@umr.edu (Niki) Date: 24 Feb 1997 18:47:37 GMT -------- Intro: This was started awhile ago and I've been getting a lot of demands (from the same two people) to finish it. Yes, it is MSR, and yes, there is another plot in here besides that. Yes, this is a crossover. I'm not telling you with what, though, until later. Why? Because I don't want to, that's why. Spoilers? Maybe some very vague references to the fourth season. I doubt people that have seen the episodes will even pick up on some of them though, so it's safe to read for those that haven't seen them yet. This is not happening now. Disclaimer Part 1: M/S and related characters belong to CC and company. No long term infringement intended and no profit was gained. Disclaimer Part 2: To be seen at the end of the story. Category: Crossover-Action/Adventure-MSR-PG-13 A NC-17 version has also been posted. Delta S (7/8) By Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (2/23/97) July 3rd, 8:45 pm, PST "I was just going up to find you two." Skinner stepped to the side and waited for them. Mulder and Scully exited the elevator and headed down the hall to their quarters. Like yesterday, the silence was everywhere, but unlike yesterday, people filled the halls, making the absence of noise that much more obvious. Skinner waited until the door was closed behind them before he spoke again. "The mission failed," he said simply. "How many cities were destroyed before they admitted that?" Scully managed around the lump in her throat. "The bombers reached Houston first. When the missile had no effect, the rest of the strike was called off." "You mean the only civilized place in Texas is no longer? Damn. Now there's no hope for the rest of the state." Skinner and Scully ignored Mulder's attempt at humor. "What are they doing now?" she asked when Mulder fell silent and ran his hands through his hair. "There's not much anyone can do. Our most effective and destructive weapons are useless. Most of the experimental technology was destroyed with the first ten cities that were hit. And what's left, we can't get to." "Nimziki hasn't said anything? He has no idea how we can fight them?" Skinner frowned in shared frustration at Mulder's question. "He's not saying much of anything. And he has been unable to reach his contacts." "Hopefully, they're dust particles right about now." "I doubt it, Mulder. They're probably holed up in some secure location, waiting for the right moment to crawl out of the woodwork." Mulder's lips twisted at the image Scully painted. "You're just saying that to argue with me." "It's my reason for living, Mulder." Her quick smile faded as she faced Skinner again. "Do they need us upstairs for anything? I didn't think to ask before we headed down here." Skinner shook his head. "No. The research team is still running tests on the ship, but it doesn't look promising. And the recovery crew has returned with the ship Captain Hiller shot down. The crew is hoping to replace some of the parts in the original ship they couldn't fix with parts from this one." Scully nodded, a little relieved at the stalemate. They all needed time to regroup. "I'm going to check on my mother, get something to eat and then try and get some sleep." "Maybe after a few hours, we'll have some new ideas," Mulder agreed. He was frustrated that he couldn't do anything to help, but neither he nor Scully had the background needed in the hanger and they would just be in the way right now. "Last I saw, Maggie was helping organize the White House staff again. Some people weren't happy with their initial room assignments." Skinner's tone was almost contemptuous as he replayed the petty bickering he had overheard in the halls. Mulder smirked at the comment and opened the door. "They should have gotten here early like we did. And we still got stuck with twin beds." "Could be worse, Mulder," Skinner muttered as they reached his room. "You could be bunking with a third person you didn't know." Mulder was sympathetic as Skinner grimaced in pain. "I'm going to get a shower and then head downstairs again. I don't think I can stand to be cooped up with Mr. Jackson of the White House Press Staff for more than a few minutes." He closed the door and Mulder and Scully continued down the hall toward the kitchen/rec lounge area. The people milling around, the increase in noise level, the general disregard for others all reminded Scully of her dorm days. She tried to push the horrific memories once again to the back of her mind but it was difficult, especially with her mother acting as the hall mother. Mrs. Scully was sitting at one of the tables and smiled in disguised relief at the sight of reinforcements, but she didn't leave her post. Scully picked through the nearly empty cabinets that had been overflowing when she and Mulder had had their breakfast. Empty containers and dirty dishes littered the ample countertops while people ignored the mess. On top of bitching about their quarters, it looked like the new people couldn't clean up after themselves either. She ignored Mulder's exaggerated groan as she finally found a can of soup and pulled it off of a shelf. At least it wasn't cream of fungus. "There was a reason God made you short, Scully." "And that would be?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and a pursing of her lips. She knew she was short. He didn't have to keep pointing it out. "So that things that wanted to stay hidden on top shelves could stay hidden." "That's not it, Mulder. God made some overly tall people so they could do the bidding of the correctly heightened ones." "Correctly heightened?" he asked as she dug through the drawers for a can opener. "Are you sure we can't convince Domino's to deliver?" Scully just glared at him as she opened the can. Soup was just what she wanted to eat in the middle of summer a couple of hundred feet below the desert surface while their planet was being attacked by non-environmentally conscious extra-terrestrial biological entities. Placing the soup in the microwave, she watched with a detached air as blue sparks were generated and created a halo of electrical energy along the edge of the can. She reflected how the field resembled the representation of electrons in the pi-bonds of a conjugated ring system from her organic chemistry. "Scully!" Mulder's shout as he stopped the microwave pulled her from her musings. "Go sit down. I'll wash something to heat this in." She hid her amusement as his expression mirrored something she would use on him for pulling the same stunt. The group surrounding her mother had disbanded and she sank into the chair next to her. "How are you holding up, dear?" Scully smiled ruefully as she thought about almost destroying the microwave and their dinner. "I was just about to ask you that." "You would think no one ever had to share a room or do chores before," Maggie said with a small shake of her head. "And the base wasn't prepared for this large influx of people. It's mainly the scientists that were stationed here for any length of time. The military crew rotated in from Nellis AFB in Las Vegas. The normal food stores are almost gone. Starting tomorrow, all the meals will be survival rations." Scully raised her eyebrow at the appetizing aspect. All of a sudden the bowl Mulder just sat in front of her didn't look half bad. She smiled her thanks and took the spoon he offered as well. She divided her attention between the food, the people on either side of her, and the conversation they were having. Finally the soup and the stale crackers Mulder had found at the back of a top shelf were gone. She stood up and washed her bowl out. When she turned, Mulder was right behind her. Their bodies brushed together in a dance very familiar to them both, but this time the contact lingered. It was more natural and graceful than previous accidental encounters because there wasn't an awkward, abrupt, embarrassed separation. "Mulder?" "Hmm?" he asked near her ear. "I think I'm ready for bed." His grin made her stomach to a flip. "Me, too." Out of habit, she started to glare at him. In the middle of raising her eyebrow, she added a smile that had him catching his breath. She turned to Maggie and said, "Mom, do you need any help?" She was feeling a little guilty for not offering to do all the dishes, but if her mother really needed help she would say so. "No, dear. I'm almost done here. People have been assigned to clean the kitchen before breakfast can be started. You and Fox go on and get some rest. Your turn will be to help with lunch cleanup." Scully brushed a kiss against her cheek. "‘Night, Mom." Mulder was still a little reserved. He placed his hand on her shoulder but said, "Goodnight, Mom." She patted his hand. "Goodnight, dears. Sweet dreams." Her smile wasn't exactly innocent. Scully managed to control the blush this time as she and Mulder left the area. His hand was resting firmly at the small of her back instead of just an occasionally brushing. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He felt just a little awkward now that they were alone. He didn't just want to jump on her, but then again, he did. "I'm gonna get a shower," he finally said. Scully nodded as she sat down on one of the beds. "You are getting a bit ripe, Mulder," she agreed. His lips twisted as he retrieved his little black bag and started stripping off his jeans and T-shirt. When he was down to his skivvies, he flushed at the whistle of appreciation that came from the other side of the room. "Are we going to have to set up some ground rules?" He pulled his boxers back up the few inches he had lowered them. "We're alone. We can tease each other," Scully stated with a nod of her head. "I don't recall doing any teasing." "What was the little show then? You're already that comfortable with us that you can strip down like it was nothing? Like we've been married for years?" "Well, I wasn't going to go hide in the bathroom," he said with a shrug and proceeded to do just that. He showered quickly, grinning the entire time at his bout of shyness. He was using an extra towel to help dry his hair while he stood in the doorway. "You know, Scully..." his voice trailed off when the towel was no longer obscuring his vision. She had moved the two beds together and it looked like she had used some rope to tie the legs together. The beds wouldn't move apart under the right circumstances, but she was sound asleep on top of the covers. His rueful grin softened at the sight. He dropped the towel he used to dry his hair and the one covering his hips on the floor. It only took a moment to find a clean pair of boxers, but it was several minutes before he crossed the room to Scully. He gently moved her and said soothingly, "Come on, Scully. Get under the blankets," when she mumbled in her sleep. Eventually she woke up enough to help him and Mulder shook his head as he turned out the lights. "Goodnight, Scully," he said into her hair and pulled her close. "‘Night, Mulder," she mumbled and wrapped her hand around his forearm nestled across her chest. He watched the shadows cross the stream of light coming under their door for almost an hour before he too fell asleep. * * * * * July 4th, 2:45 am, PST Scully reached for the phone without opening her eyes. "Mulder, this better not be another bug hunt." "Scully?" Her name came from two different sources. Skinner continued to say something else and Mulder remained silent. She twisted a little as the body next to her registered in her sleep-drugged mind. She frowned at his grin and turned her attention to what Skinner was saying. "Yes, sir," she finally said. "We'll be there in a few minutes." Mulder glanced at the clock over Scully's shoulder. He fell back against the pillow and as she hung up the phone, he asked, "Is this what you feel like when I call at three o'clock in the morning?" She threw the cover to the side and still half asleep, said, "If you were listening at all, you would realize I did think it was you at first." "Yeah, I heard the "bug hunt" comment, Scully. And I didn't find it humorous." "Too bad, Mulder. I think it happens to be very appropriate. Get up." "Why?" He blinked when she turned the harsh fluorescent overhead light on. "Because we have to be in the hanger in fifteen minutes," she answered and started digging through her bag. She was now grateful for her not-quite-vacation-clothes clothes. Mulder stood up and headed for his own clothes. "Did Skinner mention what's going on?" "No. He doesn't know either. Major Mitchell just called him and asked him to relay the message." "This is too weird, Scully," Mulder muttered through the T-shirt he was pulling over his head. "What?" She debated a moment on whether or not she should go into the bathroom to put her bra and underwear on. Then she remembered teasing Mulder not too many hours ago about the same thing and mentally shrugged. She watched Mulder's jaw drop out of the corner of her eye as she pulled her sleeping T-shirt over her head and started to fasten her bra. She couldn't keep the half amused smile from her lips as he continued to watch her with his hands still gripping the T-shirt which was only half on him. "Mulder?" she prompted finally. He swallowed once and tried to remember what they had been talking about. "Uh... Being allowed to see things," he finally managed and tugged the shirt down to his waist. "They probably figured we would find a way to be there if we weren't invited. They are just saving themselves some trouble." Mulder grabbed his one and only pair of jeans again and hunted for his last pair of clean socks. Unlike Scully, he had brought mostly shorts and sleeveless shirts for his vacation. The only clean thing he had left to wear after today's outfit around his boss was the suit he got married in. He was reluctant to wear it for such an ordinary thing though. Just like Scully had yet to wear the cream suit she had chosen for their wedding. Instead she wore her slacks and cotton shirts which were far below her normal standards for work clothes. "Do we have time to get some coffee?" It was more a question of self-preservation rather than a need of it for himself. "No," she said as she pulled on her shoes. "Maybe they'll have some down in the hanger." Mulder tied his own shoes and headed for the door. Scully's voice stopped him. "Mulder, aren't you going to brush your hair? Or your teeth?" she asked as she headed for the little bathroom. "Ah, Mom. Do I have to?" Funny how little things like that just didn't seem important when the planet was under attack by a plague of locust. Scully just glared and Mulder grabbed his toothbrush and headed toward the bathroom. A few minutes later, there was an impatient knock at the door. "I bet it's Skinner, wondering why we aren't ready." "And we'll tell him that you had developed a bad case of dragon breath." Mulder was pouting as Scully headed toward the door. "Aren't we supposed to be tiptoeing around each other's feelings right now?" "Mulder, most of this situation is NOT new. You have bad breath at three o'clock in the morning. I know. There have been enough stakeouts where I almost gagged because of it." The last was said as she opened the door to admit a tired looking Assistant Director. "Yeah, and you are REAL pleasant if you don't get your coffee right after you wake up." Skinner looked between the two bickering newlyweds with a blank stare. "There's coffee in the kitchen," he offered, hoping to diffuse the tense situation. "There. My problem is solved," she said and left the room. Skinner watched as Scully hurried down the hall. "Mulder?" He put the used toothbrush back in his bag and shook his head. "I didn't wake her up, but I'm still the one that catches hell for it." Skinner finally managed a smile as he and Mulder went to follow Scully. "Welcome to the wonderful world of wedlock." Mulder glared at the alliterating AD. "You haven't slept yet, have you?" "No. Mrs. Whitmore died a few hours ago." "They found her?" Mulder asked as they reached the kitchen. Scully was cleaning a large mug for her coffee that someone had left by the TV. Just the smell of the stuff was putting her in a better mood. "Captain Hiller brought her and several other survivors back from El Toro. She died from internal injuries shortly after they arrived here. There wasn't anything the doctors could do for her." Scully poured her coffee and the three of them headed toward the hanger in silence. The halls were deserted and the people they did encounter continued on with their tasks. They were surprised when they entered the hanger with the downed space craft. The place was alive with people and machinery. Dr. Levinson was pointing to something under the ship and then telling everybody to step back. He placed a soda can on the ship and then went to face the President. Curiosity took hold as Dr. Levinson asked Major Mitchell to shoot the Coke can. Mulder smirked. "I know there's a cola war going on, but doesn't this qualify as overkill?" Scully ignored him and focused her attention on the people closest to the ship. She tensed and moved to stand in front of Mulder when the President gave the OK. She could sense Mulder's smirk turn into a frown as Skinner moved closer as well. He had to side-step a little to put some more space between him and the other man. Scully felt justified in her precautions when the bullet ricocheted off of the force field, barely missing the space Mulder had occupied a moment ago. Mulder glared at her. "Was that really necessary?" "When was the last time I was in the hospital because I was shot?" He didn't have an answer for that and aimed his glare at Skinner. "What's your excuse?" he asked, referring to Skinner's not so distant stint in the hospital for just that. "It worked, didn't it." A shot rang out again, taking all three of them by surprise, but this time the bullet echoed hollowly as it pierced the defenseless aluminum can. There was a rush of bodies as people tried to get closer to hear the explanation. "I gave it a cold," Dr. Levinson said. "I gave it a virus. A computer virus." "He stole that from "War of the Worlds"," Mulder said not quite under his breath. "Shut up, Mulder." They both fell silent as Dr. Levinson and then Captain Hiller started explaining a possible way to defeat the invaders. As she listened to the plan, Scully revised her opinion on who could come up with the wackiest and most farfetched ideas. She felt a surge of adrenaline go through her. It was the same sensation as when Mulder would convince her to go along with one of his theories. The President exited the hanger, while she and her companions paused a moment. "So do you think it will work?" she asked. Mulder kept his gaze on the two men talking several feet away from them. "We've seen more bizarre theories pan out, Scully," he said with a shrug. She nodded her agreement and led the way out of the hanger. As they entered the clean room, she was startled by the sound of electronic components crashing to the floor. The President fired his Secretary of Defense and told General Grey to gather planes and enough pilots to fly them. "Scully?" She paused in her rapid pace to shoot a glance over her shoulder. "Yes?" "Where are you going?" That stopped her completely and she turned to face him. "I have a piloting license. Remember, Mulder. I didn't want to ever be in the same situation as Icy Cape again. And neither did you." He realized what she was going to do and felt a fist start to squeeze his heart. "Last time I checked, that license was for small, twin engine planes. Not F-18 fighter jets." She pursed her lips at his tone. It had been quite awhile since he had acted that catty. "One word about me not being able to reach the pedals, Mulder, and you will regret it." She turned on her heel to catch up with the general. She knew they probably wouldn't need her, but she had to at least offer. She felt pretty useless in the war so far and needed to do something. The reason Mulder was being an ass was because he felt the same way and he didn't have an opportunity to help. He watched her walk away with a frown etched on his face. "Mulder, let her go." He turned to glare at Skinner. "She hasn't even had her license that long. Between all of our out of town cases and the quarantines and ... and .. well, it's taken time for her to log in all her hours." "If I had ANY experience, even from twenty years ago, I would be volunteering as well. And so would you," he finally said. That seemed to calm Mulder down. "You're right." He paused a moment and then said, "How long do you think it would take to learn how to be her ... rear man? Navigator. Be her Mother Goose, while she plays Maverick." "Depends on when they plan the strike, Mulder. If there's enough time, I'll take the same crash course that you do." Mulder just nodded and watched as General Grey took off again with Scully following close behind. * * * * * July 4th, 3:12 am, PST Scully glanced around the area and wondered if she had finally lost her mind. When she had first approached General Grey, she had known there wasn't much of a chance that she would be able to help. The general had politely thanked her for her offer and stated what she already knew: She had absolutely no experience flying jets. But less than an hour later, she was sitting with a bunch of other people who had a similar lack of experience. The others weren't really sure why the call for pilots had sounded, but no one was hesitating to step forward either. The people were segregated into several groups after the initial call. If someone had any experience flying jets, they were going directly to the F-18's. People with less experience were being taken in groups to the simulator. Scully's hands were trembling as she stepped out of the little cockpit at the end of her time. She hadn't crashed during take off like some of the others, but there was no way she felt prepared enough to fly off into the wild blue yonder. And the flight suit she was given didn't help. She had to role the legs up several times, making her feel about as old as when she had tried on one of her father's uniforms. Taking a deep breath, she followed the next set of directions and went to find her plane. * * * * * July 4th, 3:46 am, PST Mulder leaned against a jeep, trying to keep out of people's way, but also trying to stay close enough to hear what was going on with the group of pilots Major Mitchell was addressing. The military personnel on the base had doubled with the arrival of some of the ground crew from Nellis. The group of Vietnam and Gulf War veterans looked a little worse for wear. One was even grimacing as he tried to sober up with the help of toxic sludge, handed to him by a young man, presumably his son. The scene was definitely chaotic as Mitchell said, "Let's start with you." The haggard man was telling Mitchell about his flying experience. Then he said something that grabbed Mulder's complete attention. "And on a personal note, sir ... I'd just like to add that ever since I was kidnaped by aliens ten years ago, I've... uh ... been dyin' for some payback. And I just want you to know I ... uh ... won't let you down." Mulder felt a surge of anger on the man's behalf as the people around him shared looks Mulder had seen too many times to count. How could people still dismiss the possibility of alien abductions? They were here and planning on eliminating the entire population. God, they themselves were planning a world wide counter offensive to get rid of the invaders and eye-witnesses to the reconnaissance missions were still being treated like flakes. "I'm sure it doesn't help that most abductees suffer from things that can be diagnosed as much safer ailments." Skinner's voice broke Mulder out of his thoughts and Mulder nodded in agreement. "Russell Casse has had his abduction experience explained by one, PTSD from Vietnam, two, alcohol, or three, the chemicals used in crop dusting." He looked around at all the people once again. "It's so much easier to believe one of those choices instead of the truth." "It's because we can defeat those, Mulder. Either through counseling, drugs or denial, those can be defeated. I think that fear has been the reason we haven't wanted to believe. Fear and ego. And so far our fears have been founded. We haven't been able to put up much of a fight against the technologically superior beings from outer space," he finished softly. Mulder stopped paying attention as he saw a flash of familiar red out of the corner of his eye. Scully was in a flight suit a few sizes too big and quickly walking away from their position. He used his shoulders to push away from the jeep and said, "They haven't pissed off the right people until now." Skinner watched without comment as Mulder hurried after Scully. Mulder was probably right. Most people were reluctant to act until given the right kind of motivation. And with recent developments, there was now a whole bag of things to chose from. Revenge, fear, a determination NOT to go down without a fight. The human animal was like any other when threatened. Most often it would die trying to defend itself, its family, or its territory. Couple that with the American military's superiority complex and media support and he could see one hell of a battle was about to ensue. "Excuse me, Director Skinner, Major Mitchell has asked ..." Skinner nodded and followed the man toward the RV encampment. Apparently the civilians were reluctant to follow military dictates. Major Mitchell was trying to keep everybody at ease by making things seem as normal as possible. And Mitchell thought that as the highest representative of the FBI, Skinner fit the bill better than the MP's. He found it ironic that the last time he had been part of crowd control, he had been wearing a Marine uniform. * * end part 7 * * From mason@umr.edu Mon Feb 24 12:48:12 1997 Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New: Delta S (8/8) PG-13 From: mason@umr.edu (Niki) Date: 24 Feb 1997 18:48:12 GMT -------- Intro: This was started awhile ago and I've been getting a lot of demands (from the same two people) to finish it. Yes, it is MSR, and yes, there is another plot in here besides that. Yes, this is a crossover. I'm not telling you with what, though, until later. Why? Because I don't want to, that's why. Spoilers? Maybe some very vague references to the fourth season. I doubt people that have seen the episodes will even pick up on some of them though, so it's safe to read for those that haven't seen them yet. This is not happening now. Disclaimer Part 1: M/S and related characters belong to CC and company. No long term infringement intended and no profit was gained. Disclaimer Part 2: To be seen at the end of the story. Category: Crossover-Action/Adventure-MSR-PG-13 A NC-17 version has also been posted. Delta S (8/8) By Nicole Mason (mason@umr.edu) (2/23/97) July 4th, 4:45 am, PST The area was filled with pilots, the ground crews, the inhabitants of the RV's and the beasts themselves. The bulky vehicles had been moved to make room for the planes and were now cloistered around the few hangers that made up Area 51 on the surface. Mulder watched as Scully went over "her" plane again and wondered how he had been cast in the role of Princess Leia while she got to go off and fight the evil galactic empire. "Mulder?" He was startled to hear her voice so close. "You ready?" Her grin was rueful as she shook her head. "I could use a couple of more months, but ..." "Scully --" "Don't," she asked. "I have to do this." "I know," he answered and smoothed a strand of hair back into behind her ear. "Just ..." "Try and make it back in one piece?" she offered. His throat closed, preventing a smart answer. "I've got a lot to live for, Mulder. My video collection of sports superstars isn't complete." He was leaning down to kiss her when Major Mitchell asked for all of the flight crews to report to their areas. The slow interchange was cut short and Mulder reluctantly raised his head. Instead of leaving just then, Scully stepped closer to watch something behind him. The President's voice was scratchy as it came over the PA system. "... Mankind... That word should have new meaning for all of us today. We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore. We will be united in our common interest. Perhaps ... it's fate, that today is the Fourth of July and you will once again be fighting for our freedom. Not from tyranny, oppression or persecution ... but from annihilation. We're fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known an American holiday, but as the day when world declared in one voice: We will NOT go quietly into the night. We will NOT vanish without a fight. We're going to live on. We're going to survive. Today we celebrate our Independence Day." The crowd erupted into cheers and Mulder fought his own reaction of hope. But it wasn't enough. The warm fuzzies were stronger than his pessimism and fear and he felt a genuine smile form for the first time since they met up with Skinner two days ago. "You know, Scully, he won't have to worry about re-election after that speech." Her lips twisted into a smile and then she wrapped her arm around his waist. "You know, Mulder, he reminds me of the actor in "Spaceballs." Kinda kills the whole mood, doesn't it." He laughed, pulling her close, despite the bulky suit she was wearing. "Go kick some ass, Scully," he said into her hair. "Don't end up in the hospital, Mulder." "I'll have Skinner here to protect me," he answered and nodded at the man standing a few feet away. Reluctantly, he let her go and just as reluctantly he followed her toward her plane. Mulder watched as Scully climbed the attached ladder and settled into the cockpit. Several minutes later, she gave a thumbs-up sign to her crew. Finally, he saw her scan the area to look for him. Although she gave no physical acknowledgment of his presence, he felt her touch, the connection that had always been theirs. Their eye contact was broken as her plane started to taxi away from him. Staring after it, he felt a familiar hand rest on his shoulder and turned toward it. "She'll be OK, Fox." "I know. She's usually the one that ends up saving my ass when I get us into trouble." "She doesn't see it that way." He nodded. "But I don't have the chance to back her up now when she needs me." "You should have thought of that sooner." The words were harsh, but the tone wasn't. "As I understand it, you could have signed up for the flying lessons as well." He stared at the person that was smirking at him. "Now I know where she gets it from," he said with a smile. Maggie patted his arm. "Come on, Fox. You're just in the way here and Walter wanted your help." He paused to watch as Scully's plane reached the runway. A moment later, with a burst of technological fury, she was airborne and disappearing into the lightening sky. "She's doing this to get even with me for every time she thinks I ditched her," he muttered to himself and then went to follow Maggie across the compound. Maybe if he was busy helping Skinner, he wouldn't be preoccupied with what could be happening 40,000 feet above his head. * * * * * July 4th, 5:03 am, PST Scully understood the awe her brother had once tried to explain to her about flying jets as the engines forced her into the sky. The plane toggled a little as she over adjusted in one direction. A second later she straightened it out and was flying level. A voice in her headset repeated what altitude she should head for and what her position in relation to the rest of the squadron should be. After acknowledging the instructions, Scully ran through another mental checklist on the last minute "Do's and Do Not's" for flying an F-18. She shifted a little in her seat to relieve the pressure as her weight forced the wooden block to cut into her thigh. It was adding a crucial few inches to her height, but it was also as uncomfortable as hell. More planes joined her and the others that were already airborne. A moment later, she was surprised to hear the President's voice in the headset as he took the lead. There were a few other background murmurs, but it seemed as if everyone was too nervous to joke like they had all seen in the movies. Once everyone was flocked together, their formation sucked, but hopefully it was enough to get the job done. "We have visual." "No shit, Sherlock," she mouthed quietly in answer to the President's statement. It was kinda hard to miss a fifteen mile wide alien spaceship that was approaching them at the same rate that they were approaching it. God. They were headed toward the base. A new wave of determination went through her. It was all good and noble to fight for the abstract, when the ships were hundreds of miles away, but these things were now threatening her family. Not in a global sense, but in an immediate and more terrifying way. The gallows humor started as they closed in on the ship. Judging by some of the comments, it was the more experienced pilots that had the lines that rivaled some of Mulder's more terrible ones. And they all seemed to be more appropriate for bad dialogue in cheesy sci-fi movies. * * * * * July 4th, 5:28 am, PST Mulder repeated the same phrase for what felt like the millionth time in less than a half hour time span. The next time he had to say it, he edited it for content. "Please, remain seated with your seatbelts fastened and your trays in the upright and locked position." Like anybody was really listening to him. He grinned when he heard a snicker several feet away. He knew Skinner and Mitchell had him doing busy work, but it was helping. There was actually a second or two when he didn't think about what Scully might be thinking about. It wasn't that he doubted her ability to take care of herself, it was more that ... He finally admitted to himself that he was envious. He wanted to be up there, having an up close and personal encounter with something he had been searching years for. There was also a moment or two where he considered sneaking on board the spacecraft with Captain Hiller and Dr. Levinson. But somehow common sense had prevailed. The next time that little voice spoke up in his head, he was going to sever its vocal cords. Listening to that voice pretty much nixed any fun he could have or trouble he could get into. The voice reminded him a lot of Scully at times. "Agent Mulder!" He turned at the sound of Major Mitchell's anxious tone. "What?" Now what did they want him to do? Lead everyone in a game of "Simon Says?" "We've got incoming. I need your help getting these people downstairs." Mitchell threw him a set of keys. "For the stairwell," he shouted as he hurried off to the far end of the compound with Connie right at his side. "Oh, good. Now I get to herd cattle," he muttered to himself. In a louder voice, he called out, "OK. I need everyone to grab what they can and follow me." Skinner was nearby and soon they had a nice disorganized, screaming line of people headed for the narrow stairway leading several hundred feet below the surface. * * * * * July 4th, 5:45 am, PST Mulder abandoned his post and slouched in a corner after the first groups had been led to the large, no-longer-clean, clean room. He wasn't needed to help keep people calm any longer. He seriously doubted an entire tanker of Valium could manage the feat for him alone at this point, nevermind everyone else they had crammed into the relatively small space. He focused his gaze on Maggie as she gathered a bunch of scared people around her, her eyes including him even across the distance. He nodded to her in acknowledgement, but lost eye contact when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He stood up straight when he saw the young man from earlier head towards the stairwell. Just as the kid opened the door, Mulder remembered the keys Mitchell had given him only a few minutes ago. Cautiously, he looked around the room and then shrugged. He was going to find out what was going on even if he had to hurt someone. God, what if they couldn't get past the shields. Scully and the others wouldn't stand a chance. But if the shields weren't bypassed, the base would be the next target and he wouldn't have to worry about living through this without her. The young man jumped as Mulder's hand landed on his shoulder. "What are you doing?" Mulder asked in mild voice. The kid stood up from his stooped position and glared defiantly at him. "My dad's up there. I wanna find out what's goin' on." Mulder pulled the keys out and jangled them slightly. "You're in luck. I just happen to have a lot of experience being where I shouldn't be and the place you're looking for is on the next floor," he finished with a twist of his lips. "You ain't gonna hassle me about gettin' in the way?" "Listen ..." "Miguel. Miguel Casse." "If they notice anybody extra in there, it'll be me. I may need you to tell me what's going on if that happens." The teenager smiled in relief and followed Mulder as he went through the door and hugged the wall. Mulder's slight grin faded as he heard General Grey give the order to disengage, implying the shields were still operating. His eyes closed and his head fell forward as he tried to bite back a groan of despair. "Direct hit!" His eyes popped opened and he moved forward involuntarily. Someone kept repeating "fire at will" in the background. They did it. Hiller and Levinson did it. The shields were down. Now it was up to the pilots to destroy the small fighters as well as the huge ships that could turn cities into dust clouds. He stopped as he heard pilots do a role call as they fired their weapons. "Eagle thirteen, fox two." Mulder knew it was Scully's voice. The static, presumably an oxygen mask, and faded by the distance separating him from the operator with the earpiece still didn't interfere enough to disguise her voice from him. He did know it was only in his imagination that she said "fox" with a slightly different tone, bringing a flash of relief. She could have said "sidewinder" and he would have felt the same way, he thought with a grin. Mulder tried to convince himself that it had absolutely nothing to do with her saying a part of his name. All hell broke loose then as the smaller ships emerged for one on one combat with the jets. Between trying to evade and destroy the "pods" and covering each other's asses up there, very little damage was being done to the larger ship. Mulder gripped the back of someone's chair as he made a mental inventory of the number of missiles left flashing on the screen in front of him. The numbers kept decreasing, especially when a picture of a jet would go dark. His heart leapt into his throat each and every time one of those squares would go blank until he could reassure himself that it wasn't Scully's plane. When he finally figured out which one was hers, his eyes didn't waver from that steady glow. An eternity later, his attention was drawn to something else. The map depicting the area was blinking, pulling his gaze from the electronic symbol of Scully's plane. The circle representing the large alien ship was directly over the now interspacially known Area 51. Mulder wasn't too worried about being hit with the "death ray" right at that moment. After all they were twenty five floors beneath a mountain, and if he had heard correctly, most of the area was granite. But the information was sketchy at best. It all hinged on a rumor about one wall of the Luxor sinking in the early stages of construction because the contractors had assumed the entire structure was subsupported by solid stone. They had finally stopped the sinking by pumping concrete beneath the one side of the pyramid. As he thought about it, he realized it would be just his luck to have the tons of earth above them being as flimsy as a nuked styrofoam container of hot and spicy chicken wings. And it didn't help that he suddenly remembered NORAD had been destroyed. The same NORAD that had also been buried within a mountain stronghold. General Grey's voice carried across the room. "They are preparing to fire their primary weapon." Mulder heard a garbled response and leaned in a little bit closer to eavesdrop on the guy with the earpiece. He pulled back when a loud voice asked for a weapons check and Grey emphasized that they were out of time. He felt the tension in the room squeeze in on him. "Doesn't anyone have any missiles left!" The President's voice was frantic, almost nearing hysteria. There was another large commotion and Mulder strained to hear. Mitchell made his life easier by flipping the transmission to speaker. "Pilot, identify yourself." "It's me. Russel Casse, sir. I told you I wouldn't letcha down. Just keep those guys off me for a few more seconds." Mulder's eyes shot to the kid who had sneaked down to the war room with him. Even if he hadn't remembered the name, the boy's eyes would have told him the whole story. "Eagle twenty, fox two." The tension level was raised another notch as the pilot repeated himself and then said, "It's jammed. It won't fire." "Dammit." The President's sentiment was echoed throughout the room and among the pilots. Russel Casse could be heard again a moment later. "Do me a favor, tell my children I love them very much." Mulder knew what the guy had in mind. He could feel the man's emotions and intentions in the tone of his voice. "Alright, you alien assholes. In the words of my generation ... UP YOOOOUUUUURS!" The power dimmed and the room started to move around them as the aliens' weapon was engaged, gathering power and penetrating the rock above their heads. "Hello, boys, I'm baaaaaccccckk!" Mulder didn't know exactly what Casse had done, but he knew what the results were. The cheers were deafening as the large ship started to implode and the President's voice was difficult to understand with all the noise. Even in the control room, everyone was shouting until General Grey gave the order to relay the information to the rest of the world. Mulder looked around the room and took in the new flurry of activity in a glance. The grunts were busy tapping away on the telegraphs, reminding him of several midnight westerns. Just as everyone started to calm down, the earth shifted violently around him again. A few coffee cups, clipboards, headsets, and several other miscellaneous items that had been on the edges of the counters crashed to the floor while sound exploded in his chest and his intestines vibrated. The feeling was similar to standing too close to a speaker with the bass at maximum. "What the hell was that?" he muttered to himself. A second later he realized a fifteen mile wide spaceship that had been disabled would eventually fall to earth. It wasn't like the Bugs Bunny cartoons when the airplanes ran out of gas. That whole inertia thing that Scully had explained once still held true as far as he knew and a mountain could be considered an outside force. Then there had been a lecture late one night on something about deformation due to impact and another on shockwaves. He shuddered in remembered horror. She would talk about the most frightful things when she was trying to stay awake and those same things always seemed to send him into a nightmare filled coma. The last minor tremor brought his mind back to the present and left his legs weak. As the people around him yelled and cheered, Mulder sank gratefully into the abandoned chair. He picked up the discarded earpiece and listened intently as the pilots shared a vocal victory as well. He didn't hear Scully yelling, but he didn't expect to either. When he did hear her voice, it was the voice of reason once again. "We're not finished, folks. There's still the smaller ships we have to deal with." The pilots rallied once again and were now using the large caliber armor piercing bullets or mini-cannons, depending on the plane, for close range fighting. He could see her evading one of the little buggers just as she said it and a tense smile twisted his lips. Mulder ignored the tap on his shoulder and continued listening intently. He now had some idea of how Scully must have felt waiting in the van when he went in after Modell. It was not a pleasant sensation and one he would prefer not to go through again. "I have one on my tail. I can't shake him." Someone told her to hold steady, backup was coming. His heart took a nosedive and then stopped completely. "I'm hit." And just in case he had missed it the first time, she repeated the statement. "I'm hit. I'm going to try and land her." Chatter from the other pilots emphasized the silence from the one he wanted to hear most. His eyes remained glued to the lighted outline until he was forced away by the chair's previous occupant. "Wait!" "Sir, we need to start bringing those planes in. Some of them are down to their emergency fuel reserves." Mulder reluctantly moved out of the man's way but not out of the area. The steady glow of the one plane he was interested in remained constant, but he wasn't reassured by it. When would the light flash off? When the plane was completely destroyed? Or would it stay connected if the one component was still intact? The question became moot when the light blinked and the outline went dark. * * * * * July 4th, 11:45 am, PST Mulder braced himself as the truck hit another mound of sand and continued to scan the horizon with the binoculars. Seeing a trail of smoke, he tapped the driver on the shoulder and then pointed in the direction. Again, they hit a bump and he cursed as the binoculars came down on the bridge of his nose. After this one, there were two more reported smoke trails in the grid they had been assigned to. The first three had yielded two dead and one injured pilot. The injuries were attributed to the shock of the ejection rather than the sloppy impact with the earth and the pilot had been hastily treated for it by the medic in back. As they closed in on the fourth plume of smoke, Mulder spotted the billowing white cloud of a parachute moving in the wind further off in the distance. He corrected the driver's course and once again forced his fears into the same locked place as most of his emotions concerning his sister. He was going to take a page from the combined book of his and Scully's ideas and not believe she was dead until he had proof. The open parachute was not helping though. The other two times they had seen a chute like that resulted in two filled body bags in the back. As they drew even closer, Mulder could see the parachute was tangled in the desert's idea of a tree. Scanning the area, he could see no sign of the pilot. The truck stopped a few feet away and Mulder jumped down from the passenger seat. Carefully he untangled the ends of the chute and examined cords. "Maybe we missed the pilot. These cords aren't cut or broken. He must have freed himself and headed back to the base," Mulder told the driver and then whipped his head around looking for anything resembling footprints in the sandy earth. Skinner extended his hand for the binoculars and started scanning the horizon again. "There," he said and pointed in the direction of the downed plane. "He might have tried to see if the radio was working." Mulder nodded, hoping that was the case. The wind shifted again, wiping away their faint tracks as they headed back to the truck. Several minutes later, he said, "She's alive." Skinner nodded once and released his own sigh of relief, his grip relaxing slightly on the wheel. "Thank God. Does she look hurt?" He squinted against the glare and could now make out the dark silhouette that seemed to be walking towards them. "Yeah." Mulder couldn't believe he was smiling, but he couldn't stop himself. He knew that in another few minutes the relief was going to be transformed into worry once again. But for the moment, the relief was making him feel almost light headed. Mulder jumped out of the cab before Skinner had even stopped the truck completely. The medic wasn't far behind, but Mulder did reach her first. His gaze raked over every inch of her, looking for injuries and to reassure himself that she was there. Her face was dirty, there were a couple of superficial scratches on her face and hands, and she there were several tears in her flight suit. She was also cradling her right arm with her left one as she carefully crossed the few feet still separating them. The breath rushed out of him as he grasped her shoulder and pulled her close. Her one arm snaked around his waist, making his arms tighten around her. Scully's small gasp had him releasing her instantly. "Are you OK, Scully?" He waited for the punchline he knew was coming. "I'm fine, Mulder." Her smile was rueful. "Just a little banged up." The medic let his presence be known by snapping open his case and saying, "Your shoulder?" "Dislocated when I connected with the ground." "Anything else?" He started pulling a few things out. Mulder listened as she inventoried the other minor injuries, including a possible mild concussion. The scrapes and bruises were from being dragged for an unknown time and distance by the open parachute across the scraggly desert floor, before it became entangled in the tree. The slightly comic image disappeared when she called his name. "Mulder, we're going to need your help. It would be best to reset my shoulder now instead of waiting until we get back to the base." He nodded once. "Tell me what to do." "You need to hold me still as he pops it back in." When he blanched, she said, "Skinner can help," and nodded to the man who had joined them, but was still standing outside of some imaginary circle. "No. I will do it." He braced himself for her scream and was both upset and relieved when it didn't happen. She did gasp involuntarily as the joint was popped back into place, and he thought maybe it was best for his sake that she remained as stubborn as always. She was pale and shaking a little as the top half of her flight suit was removed, leaving her in a damp tank top. Mulder ignored his body's response to the sight and helped the medic as he wrapped her shoulder and immobilized her arm. The other wounds could wait until they were back at the base before they were taken care of. He helped her stand and said, "Hey, Scully, we match. Does this mean we're officially a couple now?" Her lips twisted against her will as she took in his tank top and the pair of borrowed fatigues. She was similarly dressed, just covered in a lot more grime and dust. "Not until we come up with some ridiculous nicknames for each other," she countered as she slowly moved towards the truck under the watchful gaze of three people. "How do you feel about my little lima bean?" he offered helpfully. "How do you feel about my little spooky-poo?" she countered. Scully knew the subject would be dropped by the look of distaste that had his face twisted into the familiar "eww" look. She was reaching to pull herself up into the back of the vehicle when Mulder called out, "Scully, ride up front." "Mulder, the back will be fine." "You'll be more comfortable up front." She mentally translated his words to mean "I'll feel better if you're near." She understood completely and had ridden in the back of enough ambulances to simply nod her assent before she walked around to the front. Skinner climbed back in and reached for the radio as Mulder doubled checked the position of the next downed plane. As he closed the door, Mulder made sure he didn't jar Scully's injured shoulder. "Directly north about three miles. The map says there's a spot that should be high enough to give us a good view of the area." Skinner nodded and warned once again, "Brace yourselves." * * * * * July 4th, 4:15 pm, EST Mulder adjusted his shades and scanned the crowd for Scully or her mother. Not too worried about their mild tardiness, he leaned over the fussing baby and smiled as he wiggled her feet. "I know you want your mama, Billie, but I'll have to do. What do you say?" He picked her up and went to stand under the nearby, recently replanted tree. The sun looked like it was starting to turn her delicate skin pink. He used the shade to protect her as he applied another layer of sunscreen and watched as the number of people gathered increased with each passing minute. It was the second anniversary of the world wide Independence Day and the celebrations going on all over the globe reflected the same sense of victory they all still felt. The construction still underway around them also reminded everyone of the reasons for the celebration. So many lives and so much history had been lost, but there was now a chance to improve upon the designs that had existed for centuries. There was a conscious effort not to remake the tangled concrete jungles and the same mistakes again. Mulder wasn't sure how long those ideas would hold, but they did exist. He smiled again at the little girl that was contently drooling on his shoulder. She had been born April 21st almost fifteen months ago and changed her parents' lives forever. Not that they minded, she was more than welcome in their lives. "Mulder." He looked up at Scully as she crossed the distance separating them. "Hi. How'd it go?" She took Billie from him and brushed a kiss against the little girl's forehead. She felt his hand rest in the small of her back as they walked over to the picnic table with their stuff on it. "Not good. We're going to have to open a case on this one. It was definitely a homicide." He nodded in acceptance. The victim in question was one of the surviving invaders that had evaded capture up until three days ago. The governments of the world still hadn't agreed on a way to handle the aliens, and it didn't look like it was going to happen anytime soon either. And until a decision was made, the survivors were being treated as prisoners of war. They were being held in isolated facilities away from any other type of prisoners, and depending on a person's opinion, they were treated humanely or like the "killers that they are." "Another vigilante group?" The past two years Mulder and Scully had been swamped with similar cases. Almost every crime that seemed to be committed by or against the Greys came across their desks in the temporary building housing the FBI HQ while the new one was being outfitted for the final details. And in an almost unheard of situation, no one had objected when Mulder and Scully were assigned to the same new division that was still really their old division with a slightly different charter. "Not one we've come across before," she admitted. Most of the groups would leave a signature of some sort on the bodies. They wanted to take credit for doing their part. "Mulder, where's Mom?" Scully laid the baby down on the blanket at their feet and watched as she started investigating the area. At the word "mom," the baby looked at her with a frown. "Yours will be here soon," Scully promised, echoing Mulder's earlier words and soothing her niece. "She's with your sister-in-law. It seems no one remembered to bring dessert." She grinned at his look of disbelief and disappointment. "How could you forget dessert?" his face seemed to say. "And they left you alone with her?" "It was my idea," he admitted. "After all, I'm going to need the practice for when ours gets here," he said with a nod to her still flat stomach. "Mulder, that's months away yet," she reminded him and silently asked for the real reason. "Fine, you caught me. I was really pretending she was ours to see how many women I could pick up while I watched her." "Now, that I believe," she said as she leaned in for one of those annoying public displays of affection. "Actually, Agent Scully, you would be surprised ..." Mulder groaned in disappointment as Scully pulled back and Frohike expounded upon his latest pickup techniques. He leaned his elbows against the table and watched his friend kneel down before he started with the baby talk. Billie loved the attention and Mulder tried to keep the smile off of his face as he leaned over to whisper, "Do you think we can handle a domesticated Frohike?" "I really don't think the world is ready for THAT kind of change, Mulder. The next thing you know the entire Arlington police force is going to retire to some small Midwest town to work in a church mission." He chuckled as she leaned in to finished what Frohike had interrupted a moment ago. * * end part 8 * * Disclaimer Part 2: Events, characters and dialogue used from Twentieth Century Fox's "Independence Day" are acknowledged as such and done without permission. I gave Major Mitchel a first name because the credits didn't include it. Plus, I hope I spelled Nimziki right. The credit was fuzzy on his name only and my computer didn't like the Fox webpage when I tried to get into it. Author's Note: I hope the nature of the crossover was a little bit of a surprise. During the many times I've seen the movie, I kept seeing Mulder and Scully's reaction to the events and couldn't control them when they demanded their side of the story be written. If you notice, they are just "off screen" the entire time and preferred to remain out of the spotlight. I mean just look at what happened to some of the people that were central figures, can you blame them? Until next time ...