From: UbrScullie@aol.com Date: Thu, 17 Feb 2000 02:17:41 EST Subject: cross over story Source: direct Title: It's never to late (1/1) by UbrScullie Rated: PG (a very mild PG) Category: Crossover XF/ Star Trek Next Generation Spoilers: Imzadi/ Triangle/ Insurrection Summary: Q's experiment in match-making I don't own them, CC, FOX, and 1013 can have them. Dittos to Gene and his money- making machine. But I love them all!! Honestly, this started as a short story. And I wrote ninety percent of this before I saw ST: Insurrection! Any feedback or flames, please send to Ubrscullie@aol.com Please be gentle. It's never too late. "Well - " Captain Jean-Luc Picard gazed at the new occupant in sick bay. "It would appear that we have a celebrity in our midst." "Damn inconvenient." Commander William T. Riker grumbled, standing beside the Captain. "Weeks away from the nearest starbase, no rendezvous available with any vessel, not even a freighter, and we're on a medical emergency assignment. We've already been delayed when the collision sensor detected the derelict ship and dropped us out of warp. We can't afford a stop to transfer our new passenger." "I'm aware of the time constriction Number One." Picard tapped his com-badge and the familiar chirp filled the room. "Mister Data, increase speed to warp factor eight, and inform Shaal-ette J'elan of our new E.T.A.." "Aye-aye Captain." Came the dutiful response. "I'm sure Dr. Crusher can see to our unexpected guest." With a nod towards Beverly, Picard turned and left sickbay. Riker paused a moment and studied the sleeping figure lying on the medical bed. "Inform me of any change in his condition." "Of course Commander." Beverly turned slightly from the monitors, satisfied her patient was in stable condition. Riker nodded in imitation to Picard's earlier acknowledgement, and quickly exited the sick bay. Beverly leaned slightly over the sleeping form, smiling as she indulged in smoothing the dark, wavy hair. "Welcome aboard the Enterprise, Mr. Mulder." "Status report?" Picard sat at the head of his briefing table, having assembled his senior officer's in the ready room. Deanna Troi and Will Riker were seated to his left, and Data, Geordie LaForge and Worf sat to his right. Beverly sat directly opposite him. "I have assembled three emergency teams, and all the necessary supplies we need are waiting in transporter room three. We'll be able to beam directly to the medical offices of Whoryzahn. The threat of exposure is negligible, but we will take the necessary precaution of transporting down in bio-hazard suits." "Excellent work doctor." Picard approved. He turned his attention to his chief of security. "Mr. Worf, this is a tense situation, with most of the populace infected with this hallucinogenic virus. I want you to personally supervise the away teams, and maintain a strict transporter lock at all times. If anything of a threatening nature should occur, I want all crew members returned immediately to the ship." "I understand, Sir." Worf rumbled, his attention serious. "I'll prepare a ward where we can be directly beamed, in case any of us return infected with the virus." Beverly added. "How this virus mutated is unknown. The medical community virtually eliminated Yawltage syndrome over fifty years ago. I just hope the scientists on Whoryzahn can provide more information as to the virus' development." "Agreed." Picard turned towards Data. "Estimated time to arrival?" "Three hours, twenty-three minutes sir." Was the quick response. "Number One, I want you to be the liaison with Shaal-ette J'elan. Soothe any qualms she may have as to the involvement of the Federation. Study their application for entrance. We don't want to accidentally offend them." Picard stood, adjusting his uniform. "You have your orders." He dismissed. Quickly the officer's exited the room, but Deanna remained standing behind her chair. "Sir, if I may have a moment." "Of course, Counselor." "About Mr. Mulder." Riker paused at the ready room entrance, turning at the sound of the name of their 'guest'. "Go on Counselor." "Frankly sir, I'm referring to the three cryogenic passengers that Commander Data recovered. Their re-introduction could've been handled better." Deanna sighed. "Personally, I feel that I didn't do enough to help those people adapt. I'd like to take this opportunity to assist Mr. Mulder in coming to terms with his change of circumstances." Picard noticed the serious set to his Counselor's face. "A valid concern Deanna, and I'm sure you'll do admirably." "Thank you sir." A bright light, so intense that even when Mulder closed his eyes he couldn't stop the pain. Reflexively he brought his arms up, crossing them over his face. "Scully!" He cried, unable to move, incapable of reaching out beside him to see if his partner remained by his side. The light had enveloped them suddenly, turning their darkened path through the redwoods off the coast of California into an inferno of searing brilliance. Absently he realized that his feet no longer touched the Earth, and he drifted higher. All six feet of Special Agent Fox William Mulder floated towards the light. "MULDER!" It was a scream of terror, torn from Scully's lips. But he couldn't focus, the pain numbing his body. Robbed of all strength, his arms fell to his sides, and as he gazed down at the forest floor, the last thing he saw was Dana Scully's anguished face. "Scully." Dr. Beverly Crusher turned from her desk, moving to Mulder's bedside. "Scully." He whispered, blinking his eyes, but unable to focus. "Relax Mr. Mulder." Beverly soothed. "You're suffering from cryo-atrophy. Your eyesight and voice will return in time. I'm Dr. Beverly Crusher." Mulder's head lolled to the side, trying to focus on the face before him. "Too bright." He managed to whisper. "Computer, decrease illumination fifty percent." Beverly ordered, and the command was immediately obeyed. Grabbing a hypo-spray, she calibrated a dose of pain reliever. "You'll feel slight twinges as your muscles loosen up, but this should combat any discomfort. Let me know if you experience any pain." Mulder heard a slight hissing sound, and suddenly he felt more relaxed. His blurred eyes could make out a slight form hovering above him, but he couldn't see any details. "Where am I?" He managed to croak. "You're in the sick bay of the Enterprise. We came across your abandoned vessel, and brought you aboard." Beverly checked the monitor, noting the desired reaction to the pain reliever she had just injected. "We'll have you back on your feet in no time." "My partner?" "Mr. Mulder, you need to relax and regain your strength. Once you're stronger, we'll explain everything that we know about your situation." Beverly tried to keep her explanation as vague as possible, knowing that he was in no condition for the truth. "I'm on board a spaceship?" Mulder asked, incredulous. Deanna Troi stood beside him, and she nodded enthusiastically. "I realize that if may seem impossible-" "Improbable!" Mulder corrected. "And I was found onboard another vessel, that was left derelict and drifting in space. The Enterprise-" Mulder paused, and Deanna nodded to confirm the correct name of the ship. "Dropped out of warp, and retrieved me from this vessel. But you're on an emergency medical mission, and didn't secure the derelict, so it fell into the sun of Triton Major." "Yes." "You're certifiable, did you know that?" Mulder accused, an angry tone underlining his words. Deanna's expression became harsh. "No Mr. Mulder, I am not. I have shown you the diagrams of this vessel, and have even brought you to ten forward, against doctor's orders, so you may view the surrounding space. What benefit would I gain by lying to you?" "I haven't figured that one out yet." Came the fast reply. Deanna sensed great confusion in Mulder, and she tried to release her own anger. "Ask me anything that you deem necessary to prove that I'm telling you the truth." "Where are we?" "We are currently in the Alpha quadrant, in route to Whoryzahn." Mulder paused. It was the same answer, over and over. "Okay, when are we?" "I beg your pardon?" "What year is this?" Mulder stressed. "2372." Deanna supplied. "Where's my partner?" Deanna sighed. "Again Mr. Mulder, yours was the only cryogenic chamber still intact on the vessel. But the other occupants were of non-humanoid physiology." Sighing, Mulder gazed at the stars whizzing by. They were in a room called "ten forward", and several members of the crew were scattered about. Mulder could almost feel their stares. "Would you tell me if Scully was on board that vessel, but didn't survive?" "It would serve no purpose to withhold the truth from you." Deanna assured him, moving to his side to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm not used to people telling me the truth." Mulder turned his head to return Deanna's concerned gaze. Deanna was confused by Mulder's statement, empathetically sensing that he expected machination. "Perhaps we should conclude our session. Let me show you to your quarters." "Sessions?" Mulder turned from the window, following Deanna through the lounge. "I'm the ship's counselor." She explained as they moved through the corridor, and entered the turbo-lift. "Deck 8." "So I'm just a patient." Mulder watched the lights flash in the turbo- lift, first in a vertical motion, then horizontal. Deanna smiled. "Not really, but during a similar situation the revived humans didn't adapt to their new environment smoothly. I've volunteered to help you in adjusting." "You're not human." It was more a statement than a question. "Partially. My father was human, my mother is a Betazoid." The turbo-lift glided to a gentle stop, the doors opening with a barely audible hiss. Deanna moved into the corridor, Mulder following obediently behind. As they passed several crew members, Mulder couldn't help but notice that they also stared at him. "It's not often that history wanders the corridors." Deanna quipped, turning a smiling face to Mulder. "What?" "They still learn about Special Agent Fox William Mulder at the Starfleet Academy. Several of your profile techniques are part of the criminal psychology course. And of course, your research of the paranormal has helped to document previous visits by alien races who now are, for the most part, included in our Federation." Mulder stopped, stunned by Deanna's casual explanation. "So you see Mr. Mulder, your work was not unsound." Deanna explained. "Just unappreciated." Deanna moved several doors further and paused. "Here we are." Stepping forward, the doors obediently opened and Deanna walked in. Again Mulder was greeted by a stunning view of the galaxy, in a fairly sizeable room. Cautiously he stepped inside, and the door closed quickly behind him. Deanna walked confidently around the room. "Your food replication unit is here." She waved casually at the illuminated component. "And your personal shower and amenities are back here. I took the liberty of having several changes of apparel provided for you. They're stored in this closet." "We were just contemplating exploring space." Mulder murmured, his gaze still on the stars. "Dreaming of space stations, and possibly going to Mars. Now here I stand, onboard a space vessel, traveling at faster than the speed of light. As a boy I was fascinated by the space program. But then you grow up." He concluded sadly. "You need your rest." Deanna sympathized. "Beverly will have my hide if she finds out I took you to ten forward. If you need anything just instruct the computer, or have the computer contact me." "Counselor, I can't believe that on a ship of this size they can afford for you to neglect your duties and baby-sit a misplaced twentieth century man." Mulder focused on his companion. "I wanted to help you." Deanna explained. "Why?" Mulder persisted. "You don't know me." "When I first saw you, I got the impression that you needed me." Deanna smiled at the queer clarification. "I don't know why, but it was a strong enough sensation that I couldn't ignore it. In addition to your confusion over being displaced in time, you have a deep, painful sadness that envelops you, surrounds you in a cloak of melancholy. It's an old pain, one that you've carried with you for some time." "Your empathic?" Deanna shrugged. "Do you believe in empathic abilities? People of your era were eclectic in their beliefs." "Yes, I've encountered several people who were not just empathic, but telepathic." Mulder admitted. "My Mother is telepathic." Deanna explained. "I'm not as powerful as she." "And you're here to help me exorcise some demons." Mulder concluded. "In a way, though I can't confess to such altruistic emotions." Deanna confessed. "I have a definite attraction to you Mr. Mulder. And it's not because of your legendary accomplishments." Deanna smiled in embarrassment. "Good night Mr. Mulder." "Enter." Jean-Luc Picard took a sip of the wine, setting the glass on the nearby table. He glanced up from his reading, a deeply philosophical expose from a renowned Vulcan essayist, surprised to see Guinan entering. A rare smile crossed his features, and he automatically got to his feet in respect. "Guinan, please join me." He motioned to the couch directly opposite his chair. "Thank you." She murmured, settling herself almost gently onto the cushions, and accepting the offered glass of wine that Picard handed her. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" Guinan sipped appreciatively of the wine, savoring its bouquet. "Something is different." She explained quietly. "Not necessarily wrong, but something has changed in this time." "I don't follow you." Picard announced truthfully. Guinan nodded, but her gaze was distracted. "Captain, has HE been here?" Picard opened his mouth in a silent sigh, leaning back in his chair. He knew exactly what HE Guinan was referring too. "To my knowledge, no. But that doesn't fundamentally eliminate HIS presence. When did this disturbance occur?" "When we picked up our guest. Mr. Mulder, isn't it?" Picard nodded. "Mr. Mulder doesn't belong here, does he." "Yes, and no Captain." Guinan sighed in frustration. "I believe that his presence here is right. It's not dangerous. But it's also not right. It feels fabricated." Again Picard nodded. "Special Agent Fox Mulder's disappearance was well documented. How ironic that the man who spent a career in trying to make an entire world believe in alien abduction, himself became victim to an abduction. His partner, Dana Scully, dedicated the rest of her life in search of him. Even going so far as to quit a promising career in the F.B. I., and forensic medicine to conduct her quest." "Now I know that that isn't right." Guinan argued. "The past has been changed, slightly altered. I know, deep down, ingrained in my memory, that Dana Scully does not pursue that course of action." "Yet it's part of my Academy history." Picard explained. "But it shouldn't be." "Even so Guinan, I don't see how we can correct this change. Mr. Mulder is here, on this ship. Unless Q presents himself to explain his purpose, the only course of action left open to us is to assist Mr. Mulder in any fashion we are capable." Guinan finished her wine, and set the glass on the table. "You're right Captain. I'll let you return to your reading. Good night." "Good night Guinan." Picard rose to his feet and escorted her the few steps to the door. "And thank you." "Commander." Will Riker stepped off turbo-lift, moving to stand beside Deanna. "Counselor." Unconsciously he looked at the quarters that housed Mulder, and a frown marred his features. She glanced at the data pad that he held loosely in his right hand. "How are you fairing in your studies?" "Frustratingly slow." Will grudgingly admitted. "So little is known about these people. Whoryzahn is a new member of the Federation, as you know. We'll be in visual communications range in less than twenty minutes, and I haven't figured out how too properly great their Shaal-ette." "I'm returning to my quarters. We could request updated protocols from the Starfleet library, and I could help coach you." "Thanks Deanna, but that won't be necessary." "Captain Picard regularly asks for my assistance in such matters, and it is part of my duties." "That's alright Counselor." Deanna stopped suddenly, causing Will to turn and look at her in mild surprise. Folding her arms behind her back, Deanna gave Will her best 'Counselor Troi I mean business' look. "Commander, are you avoiding me?" "What a ridiculous idea." Will defended himself. "I'm merely engulfed with this ambassadorial function. You know I'm more a man of action, than a politician. I'm more comfortable leading an away team than conducting business over high tea." "Hmm." Deanna commiserated. "I would think that you would welcome some assistance." "Its nothing that I can't handle on my own, but thank you for your offer." "Will, I don't understand something." Deanna walked towards her quarters, stopping at the bisecting corridor. "Yes Deanna?" "When did you feel it was necessary to start lying to me?" Will's lower jaw dropped visibly, a hurt expression filling his eyes. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." "Knock it off Commander." Her tone was stern, tinged with anger. "You of all people should know better than to try and fool me. This isn't some card game that you can bluff your way out of. You're hurt, and your anger is directed towards me. I'd like to know why?" "Counselor this is not the place for such a discussion, nor do I have the time." Will informed her coldly. Quickly he turned on his heel, and headed in the opposite direction. Deanna remained at the corridor junction, watching his tall form disappear from view. Their close relationship of the past was rapidly disintegrating, and Will's emotions were so convoluted that Deanna couldn't figure out why. With a sigh, she turned, heading into her quarters, uncomfortable with the heavy knowledge that Will Riker was moving away from her in more than just a physical sense. Commander Riker stepped into ten- forward, a huge grin splitting his features. His first contact with Shaal- ette J'elan had went smoothly, and the Enterprise had displayed flawless teamwork in dealing with the mutated virus. Beverly and her emergency response team had been able to isolate the affected virus within hours, and had developed a vaccine to prevent any further spread of the disease. Will had remained with the Shaal-ette, for twelve straight hours, explaining the vaccination process and any other questions the leader had asked. Though the time had been long, and exhausting, Will had a new energy, a second wind. Too wound up to relax alone in his quarters, he went in search of companionship. "This can't be good." Geordie murmured, carefully setting his glass down on the table. Data sent his find a puzzled look, not understanding the comment. Worf grunted in response, having spotted Commander Riker at the same time as Geordie. "Gentlemen." Will enthused, grabbing a nearby chair and spinning it around so he could straddle the seat. "I've checked the duty roster, and I do believe that tonight would be the perfect opportunity for a few friendly hands of poker." Geordie groaned, letting his head fall back in exaggerated surrender. "You mean a few friendly hands of poker won by you, don't you Commander?" "Statistically speaking Geordie, it is impossible for Commander Riker to win every hand. Though Commander Riker is sublimely proficient at the game, the odds are he will only win eighty-seven percent of the hands." Geordie looked at Data in annoyance, then realized that the pointed stare was lost on his literal friend. "Thanks for clearing that up Data." Geordie smiled at Will. "Count me in." "I'll be there." Worf growled, taking another swig of prune juice. "Great!" Will stood up, pulling the waist band down on his uniform. "Let's say at twenty-one hundred hour?" "Commander." Data spoke up. "Perhaps we should ask Mr. Mulder to join us?" Will's smile faded, and he nodded his head solemnly. "That's a splendid idea Data. It will be interesting to see how my 'sublimely proficient skills' compare to the techniques of the twentieth century." Abruptly Will spun on his heel, and left ten-forward. "Like I said." Geordie mumbled, having noted Will's abrupt change of emotion. "This can't be good." Mulder tossed several chips onto the pile, raising Geordie's ante. "I haven't played since Oxford." Worf snorted, tossing his cards to the table. Data cast a nervous glance at his Klingon friend, then matched Mulder's raise. Will also tossed chips onto the pile. "I bet you have some fascinating stories Mulder." Geordie spoke up, tossing his cards aside when he watched Mulder flip three ace's over. "Your field of expertise was limited, your methods of detection antiquated, yet you managed to maintain a seventy percent, or better, completion ratio of your cases." Mulder shrugged, gathering his winnings in front of him. "I had help." He admitted modestly. "People had worked the X-files before I arrived at the bureau, I just remained focused on them. And Scully," Mulder paused, then cleared his throat. "Scully, she was a top notch doctor. And no slouch at helping me piece together anomalous bits of information." "The work must have been time consuming." Will injected, deftly shuffling the deck, and started to deal. "We can pull up genetic identification within moments. How long did it take four hundred years ago?" "Anywhere from six to eight weeks, though Scully managed to harass a few lab techs into prioritizing our cases." Mulder smiled at the memory. "They needed her on the O. J. Simpson trial." At the silence enveloping the table, Mulder laughed slightly. "Sorry, twentieth century joke." "Ah, could you be referring to the extended trial of the famous football player who was acquitted of murdering his former spouse?" Data asked after rapidly searching his memory. "Though I fail to see how this could be humorous." "The murder wasn't humorous Data." Mulder explained carefully. "But the length of the trial, the handling of the evidence, and the over exposure, was a comical testimony of our judicial system." "Are we playing?" Worf demanded, tossing his chip into the center of the table. Rapidly four more chips landed in the center of the table. "So you were in law enforcement?" Worf indicated to Will that he needed one card. "I was an investigator. I would assist on cases that local law enforcement didn't have the resources to solve." Mulder also indicated a need for a card. "I guess crime scene advisor would be more applicable." "You were that good?" Will asked, tossing in several chips, he noticed Mulder matched his bet without hesitation. "Well, an idetic memory helps." Mulder played with his chips as he watched Worf struggle with the decision to play or fold. "What was your most interesting case?" Geordie prodded. "Whoa." Mulder leaned back in the chair. "I never tried to catalog them in order of favorite before." "Research records available after the fire of nineteen ninety eight suggests that you encountered two cases of cannibalism, two cases of vampirism, a fetishist, a pepsin deficient stalker, a genetic correlative possession, numerous spectral encounters, and one sentient computer." Data tossed his ante onto the pile. "I am fascinated as to the disposition of that last case, as the records were not completely recovered." "Unfortunately we had to introduce a virus into the mainframe." Mulder explained. "The machine was, in my opinion, acting out in self-defense, but it was directly responsible for two deaths. With the help of the original programmer, we executed the program." "My most memorable case wasn't even an X-file." Mulder sighed and tossed his cards onto the table. "In fact, I'm not entirely convinced that it happened at all." "Please continue." Data encouraged. "So, at first I believed that the Queen Anne had in fact come forward in time, having 'disappeared' in the Bermuda Triangle for almost fifty years. But the longer I remained on the vessel, the faster I realized that I had slipped back into time. The British were at war with Germany, the Nazi's had managed to take control of the vessel, and 'Thor's Hammer' was onboard the Queen Anne. I had read about the possibility that he was onboard, and I couldn't allow him to be taken to Germany. I managed to convince Scully, or her doppelganger, that the ship must never leave the Triangle. We were alone on the deck, and before I changed my mind, I kissed her." Mulder shrugged, taking a swig of pale ale. "And_?" Geordie prompted, always one to enjoy a good story. "And, she decked me." Mulder smiled, folding his hand, and tossed the cards onto the table. "And I jumped over-board. Next thing I know, I'm waking up in the hospital." "Excuse me Mr. Mulder, but please explain 'decked me.'" Data asked, also folding his cards. Will laughed. "Process idiom." "She hit, punched, jabbed, whacked, walloped, swung at me." Mulder interjected while Data was processing. "She decked me." "Klingon's appreciate strong women." Mulder chuckled, glancing at the large man at his side. "I bet you do." "What I don't understand is that you implied that you're not sure this ever happened." Geordie started to shuffle the cards. "But the vivid details of the account would suggest otherwise." "Some have suggested that the medications I was on may have affected my dreams. I had sustained several injuries when my boat was damaged, and head trauma my also be a contributing factor. Even my partner didn't believe me." "There is no official record on this investigation?" Data asked. "No, I was officially off the clock on that one. I was following the leads supplied by some friends. And, this all occurred after I was removed from the X- files, so I really couldn't approach my AD about opening an official investigation." Mulder idly glanced at his hand, and anted up. Worf grunted and gestured the need for two cards. "How did this affect your working relationship. I wouldn't tolerate a partner who wouldn't believe me. It's a manner of honor." "Scully, she needed concrete evidence." Mulder's tone grew wistful, and the effect was not lost on Will. "But she wouldn't hesitate to lay her life on the line to save my sorry ass." "She never knew?" Will asked, uncharacteristically folding his hand. He didn't even try to bluff. Data cast a quizzical glances between Mulder and Will. Geordie gave Data a shake of the head, a silent promise that he would explain later. "No, even though I told her." Mulder sighed, showing his winning hand. "But my timing was never perfect." A melancholy look passed over Mulder, and suddenly he stood up. "Well, I've depressed the hell out of myself. I thank you gentlemen for a pleasant evening." Mulder nodded towards Will, then turned and exited the quarters. "What did he not know Geordie?" Data asked. "Not now Data." Geordie responded sadly. The halls were quiet as Mulder made his way to his assigned quarters, but a restlessness invaded him. He stood before the room, but remained undecided. He didn't want to enter yet, to enter another empty room, and return to a pattern of existence that he had followed blindly for his entire career with the bureau. He grew almost physically sick, and he backed away, moving aimlessly through the quarters. Mulder didn't know how long he wandered, but the sudden hiss of doors opening caused him to pause. "Mr. Mulder?" Deanna's voice carried softly, and he turned to face her. She stood in the doorway of her room, dressed in a flowing aquamarine night-robe. Her long dark hair framed her delicate features, and her deep, soulful eyes looked huge and concerned. Slowly he moved towards her, stopping mere inches from her lithe form. She had to tilt her head to meet his gaze, and Mulder stared helplessly into the brown orbs. Carefully he reached forward, pulling Deanna into his embrace, clutching her desperately to his frame. "She didn't believe me." He whispered, his voice breaking. Closing his eyes, he buried his face into her soft flowing locks, trying to hide the tears that were forming. "And I can't fix it this time." Deanna held Mulder tighter, letting his anguish flow through her, filtering his pain. Carefully she guided him into her quarters, allowing the doors to slide shut. "Deanna." "Beverly, please sit down." Deanna smiled brightly, offering the seat next to her. "You're not breakfasting with the Captain this morning?" Beverly shook her head, taking a sip from the coffee mug she had brought with her. "I was up until four a.m. delivering Ensign Spencer of healthy twin boys and I didn't think I would be up to breakfast, so I politely cancelled. But at exactly seven a.m. I was up and about." Beverly shrugged. "And the new mother is doing fine?" "Remarkably well." Beverly assured her. "You look cheerful." Beverly observed. "I had a remarkable night as well." Deanna replied, an elfish gleam in her eyes as they darted to the tall figure standing across the room. "Oh?" Beverly smiled, happy for her friend. "And how is our Mr. Mulder?" She whispered. Deanna laughed. "He's very remarkable as well. But it's not what you think. We did nothing but talk." Mulder returned to the table, carefully setting Deanna's plate down before her. "Well, we will have to discuss this later." Beverly stood again. "I have an early class for the new interns. How about lunch?" "I look forward to it." Mulder nodded politely towards Beverly as she departed. "You're very serious this morning." Deanna prompted, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. Mulder sighed, pushing the plate away untouched. "I want to know what happened to Dana. Is that possible?" Deanna smiled sadly. She could feel the turmoil inside him, yet he retained his calm, clinical detachment. "Of course. If you like, we can start immediately." Mulder firmed his lips in determination, and quickly got to his feet. "I can't believe she married Byers." Mulder murmured his disbelief, swiveling the computer screen idly back and forth. "But surely not surprising." Deanna glanced over his shoulder, helping him with his search. "They spent plenty of time together searching for you. It's not uncommon for partners to take that next step." "She quit the bureau, and managed to stay with The Lone Gunmen for three years before returning to her medical profession." Mulder whispered in awe. "And Scully couldn't stand Frohike. Yet there he is, best man." "Her intense studies in reproduction therapy helped countless thousands, herself included." Deanna massaged Mulder's shoulders idly, feeling the tension leave his body. "But she never stopped searching for you. Even after her marriage, and the birth of three sons." "I'm glad." Mulder smiled, turning towards Deanna. "I was afraid that she wouldn't continue with her life. That she would become obsessed like I was. I'm glad that she moved on. She deserved it. If anyone deserved happiness, it was Scully." "But not for you?" Deanna prompted, returning his stare. "I think now might be my time." "Commander?" Picard looked humorously at his first officer, who continued to stare out at the stars. "Will?" He repeated, slightly louder. Startled, the first officer turned to his Captain. "I'm sorry sir." Picard smiled, taking a sip of his tea. "If we rendezvous with the Intrepid, we won't have to return to Star Base 12. That will save us considerable time. And Mr. Mulder will be returned to Earth that much sooner." "It's very fortuitous sir." "Hmmm." Picard studied his friend. "Number One, I got the impression that you would be more delighted with the prospect of his departure." Will cast a surprised glance at the Captain. "I apologize sir. That was very unprofessional of me, and I will try harder to discipline my behavior." "It wasn't a reprimand Will." Picard consoled. "I know." Will sighed, turning back to the stars that raced by. "Last evening I had a chance to spend some time with Mr. Mulder. And I realized that we are a lot alike. We are both dedicated to our jobs, to the exclusion of everything else. And I see how lonely he his, and how lost. And I wonder, would I be able to handle this situation as assuredly as he has?" Will sighed. "Could I be as accepting?" "Those are serious questions that every man must face Will." Picard set his tea aside. "What is more important? Making a name for ones self? Creating history? And when we achieve these fleeting moments of fame, who do we share it with?" Picard smiled. "Friends. I share my success with my friends. And maybe, one day, my family." "Though we never really know how long we have, do we?" Will uttered. "No, but there are always risks Commander, in everything we do." "Enter." Will turned off his computer, glancing up to see Mulder walk into his quarters. "This is unexpected." "I won't take up much of your time." Mulder started. Will offered him a chair, but he declined with a shake of his head. "I'm not unaware of the antagonism between us Commander. Let's just chalk it up to hormonal male territorial aggression. And I know that what was, or still is, between you and Deanna is none of my business. But Commander, if you let her go without a fight, you're a bigger fool than me." Will rose, using his slight height advantage. "I'm no fool, Mr. Mulder." Mulder nodded, smiling. "It's a wise man who knows when its not too late." Mulder turned to leave. "Mulder-" Pausing, he shifted slightly to glance at Will. "Thank you." "You humans are so predictable!" Picard blinked his eyes, focusing on the figure that sat beside him on the bed. "Q?" "Jean-Luc, who else would be visiting you at this hour?" Q raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Unless of course you're hiding the dour Doctor Beverly beneath the covers?" "Not that it's any concern of yours." Picard snapped angrily. "So you did alter history just to fulfill some omnipotent whim? I was hoping that Guinan was mistaken." Q shuddered visibly. "Why do you keep that creature around? Oh, never mind her. Jean-Luc, I'm in love. And I insist that the whole universe be in love with me." "Oh please." Picard muttered, flinging his arms over his eyes to block out Q. "Honestly Jean-Luc, I do believe that I am the only one who sees your truly evil side." Q tsked the Captain. "Here I am doing two of your indispensable crew members a favor, and all you can do is belittle my efforts. I did some research on unrequited love, and I was fascinated by this Mulder fellow. Have you ever meet a more lugubrious individual?" "I'm afraid that my duties didn't allow me time to socialize with Mr. Mulder beyond the occasional greeting." "That is truly a shame Jean-Luc. This man devoted his entire life to finding his sister, in essence burying any social graces he may have developed over the years. Every romantic encounter ended badly for this chap. One turned out to be a back stabber, and the other was, well, of fickle loyalty." Q smiled mischievously. "Let me guess, with a little help from you?" "They were absolutely wrong for the guy." Q asserted. "So I found this charming little red head. She's a bit short on stature, but humans tend to run small." "The point Q?" Q chuckled devilishly. "He was so in love with this woman that he never told her! Well, not seriously anyway. In some backwards fashion Mulder believed that he was protecting this Dana Scully." "So, what crew member are you trying to help this time?" Picard tried to focus on the story. "Please Jean-Luc, do try to keep up! This is the same story that is being played on this very vessel of which you are so fond. Don't tell me you haven't noticed." Q rose from the bed, and walked around the room, dramatically flinging his arms wide. "The dedicated, not so young anymore, first officer, struggling with his decision to pursue his stagnating career. And the lovely counselor, waiting silently and patiently for her one true love to realize that he can only find true happiness with her. His Imzadi." "Q, I'm ordering you to leave Riker and Troi alone." Picard rose to a sitting position. "They need to work out their problems, without your assistance." "Ordering me Jean-Luc, that's laughable. As you are so fond of telling me, I am not a member of your crew." Q paused in the middle of the room. "Actually, this little test was to see how little human nature matured in four hundred years." "Pulling Mulder from his time, seeing how he adapts. How does this effect Riker and Troi?" "Mulder was the catalyst, don't you see?" Q smiled broadly. "Riker saw in him a true challenge, a threat to his relationship with Deanna. Even Troi's little liaison with the Klingon didn't move him to any action. Yet Mulder, love stricken idiot that he is, went to Riker and told him that he was a fool. In the short time that he has been aboard this ship, Mulder managed to see what Riker and Troi have been avoiding, and would have kept avoiding!" "So you're saying, that despite his own personal anguish, Mr. Mulder over came his own feelings of remorse, and advised Riker not to make the same mistake that he made?" Picard clarified. "I think that says something remarkable about our so 'predictable' human nature." "I was counting on it! So you see Jean-Luc, I didn't actually interfere with Riker and Troi, Mulder did." "You just helped the situation along." Picard sighed. "Tell me Q, what happens to Mr. Mulder now?" "Oh, I'll return him to his time, sans memory of course." "Won't this erase what you've set out to achieve? If you return Mulder, the catalyst will no longer be present to sent your course of events in motion." "Oh Jean-Luc, the seeds of love have been planted, the kernels sown. Though they won't know why, suddenly Riker and Troi will be irresistibly drawn to each other once again." "And Mr. Mulder, returned to his life of unhappiness?" Q smiled. "Maybe, just maybe, there is one more test that I must observe." "Enter." Will Riker paused at Deanna's door, filling the entryway with his tall frame. "Deanna, we need to talk." Smiling, Deanna set her data pad on the table beside her. "Why don't you come in then Commander." Though her sentence was formal, her tone was welcoming. Will entered slowly, moving to stand directly before Deanna. "Am I too late?" Deanna felt the rush of emotions first, washing through her senses. Will Riker stood before her, laying his soul bare. Confused, scared and frightened. Strong emotions that Will was not familiar or comfortable with. Though the question was purposefully vague, Deanna knew its real meaning. "It's never too late, Imzadi." Mulder stood shivering on the side walk, staring at the brownstone that housed Scully's apartment. He was barefooted, his clothing in tatters, his cell phone, wallet and SIG sauer gone. Luckily the local patrol in the neighborhood hadn't spotted him yet, or he'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Sighing, he moved forward, his steps growing more confident as he approached. Scully would be there, he knew. And with that knowledge comfort and confidence urged him on. Scully quickly sat up, her breath caught in her throat. Some noise had awoken her, and she glanced around her bedroom. Since Mulder's disappearance eight months ago, she had taken to sleeping with a small bedside lamp on, and she quickly ascertained that she was alone. She started to fall back against the pillow, when the noise came again, slightly stronger this time. Some one was at the front door. Grabbing her gun off the nightstand, another change since Mulder's disappearance, she slid out of bed and carefully padded down the hall. The knocks came again, three sharp raps. Raising her gun, she thumbed the safety switch. If it was Frohike, Byers or Langly, she couldn't promise that she wouldn't shoot. "Who's there?" "Scully, its me." The blood froze in Scully's veins, and she stared at the portal in shock. Her gun dipped slightly, and she took several more steps forward. "Mulder?" She spoke cautiously. Reaching forward, she rose up on tip toes and peered out the view finder of her door. "Mulder!" Scully tossed her weapon carelessly aside, and rapidly twisted the locks open on her door, flinging the portal open. "Hey." Mulder smiled. Scully flung herself forward, wrapping Mulder into her arms. Reflexively he returned the embrace, nuzzling the top of her head. Regaining her composure, Scully stepped back, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "God Mulder, you're a mess. Come inside. Are you hurt?" Scully grabbed his hand and led him inside, slamming the door closed behind them. "Where have you been?" "Whoa, slow down ." Mulder allowed her to guide him to the sofa where he gratefully sat down. Carefully she draped a fleece blanket over his shoulder, carefully running her hands across his shoulders and arms, checking him physically to satisfy her medical impulses. "You've been gone for eight months Mulder." Scully supplied, cradling his right hand gently in hers. "What's the last thing you remember?" She squatted before him, between his legs, her face turned up towards him. Mulder reached forward with his left hand, wiping an errant tear from her cheek. "I remember being in California, in the woods. I recall a bright light." He sighed. "It's alright, I'm sure you'll remember more with time." Scully comforted. "I remember looking down at you Scully." Mulder whispered, letting his hand slide to the nape of her neck. His eyes grew serious as he captured her gaze. "I remember thinking that I'd never had a chance to kiss you." "Oh Mulder." Scully sighed, inching forward. "Scully- Dana- I love you." He asserted, leaning closer. "And I know that's the only reason why I was allowed to come back." "Mulder, I love you too." Scully whispered. "I always have." The End So, you made it this far...please send all feedback to UbrScullie@aol.com. Thanks.