From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Mon, 14 Feb 2011 06:54:32 -0600 (CST)
Subject: Without a Trace  1/? by Donna
Source: direct

Reply To: donnah@donnas-stories.com


Title - Without a Trace (1/?)
Author - Donna
Email address - donnah@donnas-stories.com
URL -  http://www.donnas-stories.com/
Rating - PG-13
Category - MSR, Angst
Spoilers - None  
Keywords - MSR, Angst
Summary - Who are they and what are they up to?
Feedback - Please 
Archive - Anywhere, just let me know so that I can visit
Disclaimer - Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunmen and Skinner 
all belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox.  No infringement 
intended


Without a Trace - part 1


He opened his eyes, confused.  Where the hell was he?  
He started to sit up and pain volcanoed through his head.  
He collapsed back blinded.  He bit down hard on his lips 
and tried slow breathing to fight the nausea.  His reactions 
were instinctive; it was a least a minute before he could 
think clearly enough to have an actual thought.  That was 
'what the fuck?'

He wasn't about to try to sit up again, but what about the 
rest of his body?  He was able to wiggle his fingers and 
move his arms.  He moved his legs and flexed his toes.  
Okay, so the major pain was in his throbbing head.  Since 
he still wasn't willing to make a move that could cause 
another flare of pain he tried to assess what he could with 
minimal movement.

He realized he was lying on the ground, not a floor.  He 
seemed to be outside, partially on grass, partially on gravel.  
A quick squint suggested it was either dusk or overcast.  He 
was still reluctant to open his eyes fully, so determining 
which one would have to wait another minute or two.

He carefully moved his arm and his hand brushed against 
wood, not a tree, it was sawed.  Shit, he needed to try 
again.  Very carefully he opened his eyes and then tried 
moving his head slowly to the side.  Pain blossomed again, 
but not as bad.  He saw that his hand was touching a 
railroad tie and the upper half of his body was in the gravel 
of a railroad bed.

Had he jumped from a train?  He closed his eyes again and 
slowly turned to see what was in the other direction.  Down 
the slight slope from him was another body, curled on its 
side, away from him.  It looked like a young girl.  Okay, had 
they been thrown from a train?

The only sound was a bird somewhere off to his left.   He 
drew a deep breath and moved to sit up again.  He took it 
much slower this time and though there was pain, it was no 
longer blinding.

He sat for a minute, waiting for another stab of pain.  When 
it didn't come, he began moving slowly toward the girl, 
crawling on hands and knees.  He checked for a pulse.  It 
was there, steady, and her breathing seemed okay, but she 
didn't stir.  He eased himself down beside her and started 
checking out what he could.  He was wearing a gray t-shirt 
and jeans, and a well-used pair of running shoes.  She 
was similarly clad in black pants and a light green t-shirt 
with a darker green leaf pattern that had three-quarter 
length sleeves.  She wore scruffy white athletic shoes. 

He checked his pockets; no keys, no wallet, no watch.  He 
didn't see a purse lying near her either.  What the hell was 
going on?

The girl shifted beside him, and his attention returned to 
her.  She uncurled slightly and he realized this was no little 
girl.  She was a woman; full breasts and nicely rounded 
ass.

She opened her eyes and jerked away at the sight of him 
bending over her.  He held out a hand, not touching her.  
"Take it easy.  Don't move too much.  How does your head 
feel?"

That sudden movement had birthed a headache of 
migraine proportions, so she remained still.  He wasn't 
making any threatening gestures and she already had 
evidence of what happened if she moved too much.

"What - " she croaked and closed her mouth, swallowing.

"I don't know.  We may have been thrown from a train." He 
tried a small smile, and gestured toward the tracks nearby.

She took a deep breath and tried to sit up.  She was 
grateful for the way he moved back to give her space.  She 
couldn't make it all the way up and lay back trying to get 
her breath.

 "Don't hurry."

She took a good look at him and saw that he was on his 
knees a little distance away.  He seemed tall, dark, with 
beautiful eyes.  He didn't look like someone who wanted to 
hurt her, but what the hell was going on?  Where were 
they?

She tried to look around and he saw her wince.  "There's 
not much to look at," he gestured toward the tracks.  "I 
haven't heard any traffic."

"So where are we?"

He started to shake his head, but realized that wasn't a 
good idea.  "I don't know."

"Who are you?"

He sighed then.  "I, uh, I don't know.  I checked for bumps 
on my head, but I didn't find any.  I don't want to hurt you."

"Uh, thanks," she said softly.  She slowly moved to rise 
again and he reached for her.  She hesitated, then let him 
assist her to sit up.  Once she was steady, she let her 
fingers trace her hairline and checked for lumps.  After a 
minute, she met his eyes.  "I don't have any bumps either."

"Then may I ask who you are?"

She blinked and a look of unease came over her face.  "I, I 
don't know."

"Yeah.  Look, I don't think we should get too hung up on 
this."

"Don't get 'hung up' on the fact that we don't know our own 
names?" her expression said a lot more.

"I just mean, we both have killer headaches.  I'm sure when 
they're gone, when we start feeling better, we'll remember 
everything."

"You're sure."

He shrugged.  He turned from her then, and carefully rose 
to his feet.  She saw the wince, but he managed to remain 
on his feet.

"Are you okay?" she asked quickly.

"I'm pretty sure I've been better."  He wasn't looking at her 
now, but checking the landscape.  Now that he was 
standing he could see more.  It hadn't changed much.

"Anything?" she asked finally.

He didn't look at her, just shook his head as he continued 
to scan in all directions.  He noticed when she started to 
stand, and turned to her.  She made it to her feet, but 
swayed and grabbed her head as pain gripped her again.  
He took hold of her arms, steadying her.

When she got her breath, she looked up at him.  "Thanks."

"Are you okay?"

"Like you said, I've been better."  She stepped away then 
and looked around as he had.  There was nothing that 
looked like civilization in any direction.

"At least we're not in a desert," he spoke, too close to her 
ear, and she jumped.  "Sorry."

"What are we going to do?" She ignored the apology.

Good question.  He looked around again and spotted 
something farther down the rise.  There was clear space 
near the tracks, but the terrain was relatively flat.  There 
were trees, but it wasn't heavily forested.  There was no 
sound, no traffic.  He couldn't see a road.  He moved 
carefully toward the object and as he neared it, he realized 
it was a leather bag.

He picked it up and looked back at her, then returned to her 
and opened it.  Inside were two plastic water bottles, one 
empty, one about half full of water.  There were power bars 
and a few cans of Vienna sausages, a roll of fishing line 
and a box of matches.

"We just hit the lottery." He looked up grinning and found 
her watching him. "Do you want some water?"

She looked at him for moment before responding.  "I, 
maybe we should wait."

 "Yeah, okay.  I'd say we need to start walking."

She looked at him for a long moment, then, "Which way?" 
she asked, looking down the tracks again.

"Good question.  Do you have a preference?"

She would have laughed if her head hadn't hurt so much.  
"No, I don't think so."

He took another deep breath and looked in both directions 
again.

"We could split up," she said.  "I could - "

"No!" he spoke sharply and she stepped back at his 
vehemence.  "Uh, sorry.  I just don't think we should 
separate."

He seemed sincere, and to be honest, she didn't want to be 
alone.  This was creeping her out.

After a moment she nodded.  "I agree."

That relaxed him a little.  "Well, the sun's going down to the 
left.  West sound okay to you?"

"Yeah, I guess it does."  She didn't look convinced, but 
there was no reason she should.  

He took her arm and she hesitated, but then fell in step 
beside him.  They didn't speak for a while, then she 
glanced over at him.  "The stuff in the bag, it's survival stuff, 
isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is.  I need to know what you're thinking," he said 
watching her.

"I think you're right," she said after a moment.  

"I don't know where we are or why, but we should be okay 
for a few days."

"Not if we don't find some water," she responded.

He nodded.  "But it's not cold.  We shouldn't have to worry 
about exposure."

"You think we'll be out here for a while."

After a moment he nodded.  "Whoever left us out here, 
they've given us material to make a snare, catch our own 
food."

She stopped then and after a step or two, he realized it and 
stopped as well.   

"A snare?  You know that but you don't know your name?"

He blinked at that.  "Good point.  Maybe I was a boy scout."

Her eyebrow rose and she just stood there staring at him.

He finally grinned.  "I need something to call you.  How 
about Red?"

"Red?"

"Your hair."

She blinked and reached for a lock of her hair.  "I'm a 
redhead."

"Bring back any memories?"

She shook her head.  "So what should I call you?  John?"

"John?"

"As in Doe."

"Umm, I don't really like that.  Let's think about it a little 
while."

She contemplated him seriously, but nodded.  He wasn't 
panicked, and that was helping her.  She didn't know if that 
was his intention, but whatever it was, it was definitely 
helping.  Thank goodness she wasn't alone out here in the 
middle of nowhere.

"Well, come on.  We don't know how far we're going to 
have to walk."

They continued on in silence, but it wasn't uncomfortable.  
They'd been walking nearly two hours by the sun when 
she stopped again.  "Do you hear - "

"Water!" He turned and grinned at her.  They hurried toward 
the sound and were excited to see a good size stream.  
They filled their bottles and shared one of the power bars.  

He looked around the area, then back to his companion.  
"It's going to be getting dark soon.  Why don't we set up a 
camp here for tonight.  We've got fresh water and we can 
see the tracks from that little grove over there."

She opened her mouth as if to speak, then just nodded.  

"We'll be okay," he reassured her and she gave him a 
tentative smile.

They gathered wood for a fire, though they wouldn't need it 
for warmth.  The weather was mild, but they wanted the 
light.  They settled in and shared a can of the Vienna 
sausages.  He offered a second power bar but she shook 
her head.  He didn't insist.  

Finally he stretched and rose.  "We should probably turn in.  
No telling how far we'll have to walk tomorrow."

She nodded and stood as well.  "I'm going - "

"Don't get out of sight."

She gave him a long look, then turned her back on him.  
He merely chuckled and tried to make a more comfortable 
place to sleep.  When she returned, she took a seat 
opposite him with the fire between them and wrapped her 
arms around her knees.

"Uh, listen.  I know it's not cold or anything, but I think we 
should, uh . . . "

"What?"

"I think you should sleep over here with me."

For a long moment she looked at him, then slowly rose and 
moved to him.

"I don't think we need to keep a watch, but this will be more 
comfortable.   I promise to be a gentleman."

"Comfortable, huh? I think I'd prefer a sleeping bag - " She 
paused, going inside herself a moment.

"What?"

"I, I feel like I just made a joke." She looked up at him, 
puzzled.

He thought about it, then smiled.  "Maybe you did.  When 
we get our memories back, we can check on that.  Now, try 
to get some sleep."

He pulled her against him and spooned around her.  That 
did feel good and, and slightly familiar.

She woke the next morning still within the strange man's 
arms, having rested quite well under the circumstances.  
When she began to pull away, he woke as well.  He 
seemed to realize where they were instantly.  He released 
her and sat up, taking her arm to help her up.

"Sleep okay?"

She nodded, watching him stretch.  "I guess this isn't a bad 
dream."

He shook his head.  "Actually, I had pretty good dreams last 
night."  He grinned at the color that rose in her cheeks.  "I 
think I'll use that tree over there." Still grinning he moved 
away from her.

She sighed and turned in the opposite direction.  When 
they met again at the ashes of last night's fire, he handed 
her one of the refilled bottles of water.  "Are you okay?" he 
asked, watching her closely.

"Don't mind me.  I think I'm missing my coffee, and I have a 
severe case of penis envy right now."

He grinned then, but refrained from comment.  He pulled 
out a couple of the power bars and offered her one.

"How many does that leave us?" she asked, trying to see 
into the bag.

"Uh, four, eight, and let's see, six cans of sausages.  Surely 
that's more than enough until we find the road."

"And how long do we travel after to find a road?"

He sighed and put one back in the bag.  He opened the 
other and broke it in half, offering her the part still wrapped.

"Thanks."

They washed up at the creek and filled the water bottles, 
then headed out again, following the train tracks to the 
west.

They had been walking a few minutes, looking around at 
the vegetation when he said, in a companionable way, "I 
think we're in the northern mid-west or northwest."  He 
realized after a couple of steps that she had stopped.  
"What?"

She was grinning up at him.  "You are so full of it.  You 
don't have a clue where we are."

"Well, uh, sure I do.  The land, the trees - "

"And you know what kind of trees are in the northwest."

"Sure, that's Pacific Yew, and there're tons of different 
cedars and juniper."

She stared at him for a moment, hands on hips.  "What's 
your name?"

"Uh, I don't know.  Maybe I was an Eagle scout?" He 
grinned.

She shook her head but continued walking beside him.  
He began pointing out certain trees and naming them.

"Okay, the real question is, can you catch one of the 
squirrels living in them and feed us?"

"Me Tarzan, you Red."

"Oh God." She rolled her eyes but he smiled at the slight 
curve to her lips.

They walked briskly for a couple of hours, finally stopping 
for a lunch break when the sun was directly overhead.  
They each had a power bar and then shared a can of the 
sausages.

"I know I'm getting protein, but damn this is boring," he 
remarked, looking at the label of the power bar.

"And not exceptionally filling either," she commented.

"Do you want some more?" he asked quickly.

She shook her head.  "Better not."  Then for something else 
to say she turned to him.  "Did you come up with a name for 
yourself?"

"Nope.  Who do I look like?"

"Well, if your hair was longer, like one of those guys on the 
cover of those romance novels."

"Fabio?  You think I look like Fabio?"

"Another chunk of information.  You read bodice rippers.  
Interesting . . . "

"I do not!" he backtracked hurriedly, "but I've seen them on 
the racks.  You think I'm a hunk?"

She cut her eyes at him as she stretched her calves.  
"Actually, I've always thought those guys were more 
interested in their own looks than mine."  She stopped and 
looked at him, really looked at him.  "Why do I know that 
and not where we are or who I am?"

He took his time answering.  "I don't know.  It's strange 
what we're not able to remember.  I think we know each 
other though."

"Why do you think that?"

"We're comfortable with each other.  It's . . . I don't know, 
but I feel like I know you."

After a moment she nodded.  "Yeah, I do too."

"Think we're married?"

She looked startled at the thought, then glanced down at 
her hand.  "No ring."

"Could have been stolen when we got tossed off the train."

"No indention on my finger."

He nodded thoughtfully.  "Maybe we're taking our time."

She laughed then at the expression of mock despair on his 
face.  "Yeah, you keep on thinking that and we'll keep on 
taking our time."

The pout drew another chuckle, but she rose then, 
brushing off her slacks.  "Come on Fabio, we need to get 
moving."

He grimaced as he rose beside her.  "No, not Fabio."

She looked him up and down then.  "Zorro?"

"Keep walking," he was shaking his head now, but pleased 
that she was able to kid with him.  They were in trouble, 
whether either was admitting it or not.  At least she had 
gumption.

"Renard," she said definitively, nodding her head.

"Renard?"

"Yep, Ren for short."

"Ren and Red." He looked skeptical.  "We need to find 
some civilization."  They picked up their pace.

He looked down at her.  He was lucky that whatever was 
going on, wasn't happening with some girly-girl.  For a 
second he searched his brain for that phrasing, but then 
shook it off.  She was no wimp and hadn't whined at all 
about the distance they had covered or the lack of basic 
essentials.  She was in good shape, probably ran and 
worked out.  He'd had to shorten his strides, but not 
drastically and she hadn't complained at all.

*****


Without A Trace - part 2

They'd been walking at least a couple of hours when he 
stopped, his hand coming out to halt her as well.  "Is that a 
building?"  He squinted into the woods.

She looked in that direction and finally spotted the 
structure, well hidden in the trees.  She nodded.  "Yes, I 
think so.  Does that mean there's a road?"

"Let's find out."

Some innate caution caused him to slow, and she didn't 
argue, going quiet herself as they approached the building.  
There was no sign of life or recent activity.  The door was 
padlocked but the lock itself looked old and rusted.  He 
motioned for her to wait while he checked closer and for 
the first time she shook her head.  "You go left, I'll go right," 
she whispered.

He didn't like it, but nodded.  "Be careful."

She gave him a quick smile of . . . gratitude, and slipped 
away, silently.  After an instant, he moved off as well.  They 
met on the other side shortly.  "Anything?" he asked.

"No, the structure seems sound enough but no one's here 
or has been recently that I can tell.  You?"

"There's an outhouse in the back, and a well with a pump," 
he grinned, "but you're right, no trace of a car or truck 
coming in recently."

"Why build this place and then not use it?" she asked 
rhetorically.

He shrugged and moved with her back to the front.  He 
glanced over at the front door.  "I'll get a rock.  I don't think 
that lock will be too much trouble."

She nodded and stepped onto the porch to look closer.  "I 
think it's already broken," she said over her shoulder and 
tried the door.  The sound of the gun going off paralyzed 
him for an instant, then he was racing to her as she lay on 
the weathered wood of the porch.

"Red?  Red! Talk to me!" He was checking for her pulse 
before his knees hit the floor.  Blood was coming from her 
shoulder and she was unconscious.  She was breathing 
and her heartbeat, though rapid, seemed strong.  

He had no weapon, though he realized his hand had 
reached for one automatically.  He'd think about that later, 
but now he had to get her under cover.  Then he realized 
there was no further activity from inside.  He stayed low, 
and pushed the door open with his free hand.  

The gun had been set as a booby-trap.  Opening the door 
had pulled the trigger.  Not very sophisticated, but it had 
worked, damn it.  Still low, he checked out the inside.  No 
other booby-traps that he could see.  He had to get her 
inside and check her out.  First, he crawled to the gun and 
took it in his hand; a full clip, only one bullet expended and 
he knew where that one was.  No wires crisscrossed on the 
floor.  Damn it, why hadn't he gone first?

Securing the one room didn't take long and he was back at 
her side.  "Red?"

Still no response, so he carefully lifted her into his arms 
and carried her to the bed at the far side of the cabin.  It 
was an old-fashioned iron frame with a double bed 
mattress.  The quilt over it had been colorful at one time but 
was well faded now.

He laid her gently on the bed and, when she didn't stir, he 
turned to see what kind of supplies he could find.  

There was a short stack of towels under the washbasin.  As 
he'd suspected, no running water, but he did locate a tin 
box with a red cross drawn on it, on a shelf in what was 
obviously the 'kitchen' corner.  He was loathed to leave her 
even for an instant, but he needed some water to clean her 
wound and their bottles were nearly empty.  She was still 
out, so he took the chance, taking both bottles and the 
enamel washbasin from the stand and headed out to the 
well.

He was back quickly and took a seat beside her on the bed.  
"Red?  Wake up, please."  He pressed the cleanest looking 
of the towels to her wound and touched the cool water to 
her face with his other hand.  She opened her eyes and 
tried to move away from him.

"Don't try to move.  It's okay, you're okay."

"What . . . "

"The place was booby-trapped.  You were shot."

Her eyes grew wide.  "Shot?" She looked down at her 
shoulder.  She saw that the towel he had pressed against 
her wound was rapidly turning red.  Her face paled even 
further.

"Don't, Red, don't faint on me again.  I need you to talk to 
me."

"Why?"

He realized immediately she was asking about the 
gunshot.  "I guess it's their burglar alarm.  Damn effective 
too.  I'm sorry, I - "

"You didn't shoot me," she said quietly, seeing the anguish 
in his face.

He blinked at that, but after a moment nodded.  "I, I think 
the bleeding's slowing down.  How do you feel?"

"Like I should have stayed on the train."  She closed her 
eyes for a moment.

"Red?" he asked anxiously.

"I'm okay, I mean, I'm not going to faint again.  It hurts."

"I need to check it out."

She nodded slightly.

"I need to take off your top."

She opened her eyes then.  He was right.  In order to see 
her wound, he would have to remove her t-shirt.  "I don't 
have anything else."  But she met his eyes and nodded.

"I'll try not to hurt you."

"I know," she said faintly.

He started with her good arm, moving her like a delicate 
piece of china, holding it over her head and finally slipping 
the shirt down her wounded arm and off.  Her forehead 
had broken out in a sweat, but she hadn't cried out.

"How are you doing?" he asked once the shirt was off her.

"I've been better," she said, closing her eyes.

"I don't want you to go into shock.  Let me . . . " He moved 
the quilt from beneath her and covered her, leaving only 
her shoulder exposed.

"Did it go through?"

He shook his head.  "It's still in there.  It was only a .22."

"Only?"

He nodded sadly.  "Thank goodness."

Using extreme care, he washed off her wound.  It still 
looked bad, but not nearly as life threatening now that most 
of the blood was washed away.

"You know you have to get it out."  She met his eyes and 
saw his face go as pale as hers probably already was.

"I don't know nuthin' about no doctorin'" he tried for a light 
note.

"Then you're going to get on-the-job training."

"Red, I don't - "

"It has to be done."

Looking away his eyes landed on the first aid kit.  "There's 
not much here in the way of supplies."  He opened the tin 
box and to his relief saw a bottle of rubbing alcohol and 
bandages, a tin of aspirin and at the bottom a small pair of 
scissors.  He dismissed the rest as fishing equipment.

"You're going to have to find something to probe the site."

His head shot up and he looked at her.  She just looked 
back, not saying anything.  Silently he turned back to the 
box and looked around in it.  In a moment, he came up with 
a large needle and a pair of what looked like needle nose 
pliers.

"I must not be the only one that's been shot around here," 
she said dryly.

"There're wire cutters too.  Wonder if the fishing is good 
around here."

She looked up at him puzzled.

"For removing fish hooks from body parts."

"You are a true font of information."

"Except what we need," he responded, checking out her 
wound again.

"You need to sterilize those things.  Go ahead, Ren."  He 
glanced up, startled at the name, but still made no move to 
begin the operation.  "You have to."

"I know."  He emptied the basin of the bloody water and 
poured some of the alcohol into it and over his hands.  He 
put the instruments in to soak, then looked back at her.  
The pain was obviously still intense, and there was still 
little color in her face.  After a moment, she nodded and he 
reluctantly fished out the needle.  Slowly he took it and 
entered the wound, probing gently.  Her gasp let him know 
when he had touched it.  "Sorry."

She only nodded, though her good hand came out to grasp 
the iron bar of the headboard.

"Are you - "

"Please, hurry."  Her voice was shaky now.  He needed to 
get this finished.  The bullet itself wasn't that deep; he idly 
wondered if the powder had gotten wet or something, 
losing some of the force that could have hit her.  Hit her, 
just thinking the words sent a pang of fear through him, but 
he hid it as best he could.  He had to do this.

"Ready?"

She nodded and closed her eyes.  He took a deep breath 
and picked up the needle-nose instrument.  Her hand 
squeezed tighter around the wrought iron and she bit her 
lips.  A moan escaped as he pulled out the bullet.  He 
winced and dropped the bullet into the basin.

"It's out.  Can you hear me?"

She gave a slight nod.  "Dis-disinfect . . . "

He picked up the bottle of alcohol and dribbled a little bit 
into her wound. She gasped, then arched in pain.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

It took her a minute to get her breath, then she lay limply in 
the bed.  "No, it's good.  You, uh, you need to bandage . . . "

His own breath was shallow in sympathy, but he reached 
for one of the pads still in the sterile packet.  He gently 
covered the wound and taped it down, then wrapped gauze 
around her shoulder to secure it.

"How're you doing?"

"Better than you, I think." She managed a small smile, 
though she still sounded breathless.

He looked away and she saw that he was blinking back 
tears.  She released her grip on the bed and took his hand.  
He squeezed it, but still didn't look at her.

"Ren, you did good."

He bit his lip and took a shaky breath.  "Yeah, right.  What 
can I get you?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"You should eat something."

"Not now." She didn't open her eyes.

"Listen, there's aspirin in here and some other pills I don't 
recognize."

She forced her eyes open.  "Let me see."  She didn't 
attempt to take them from him.  "I'm not . . . I better take a 
couple of the aspirin."

He nodded and poured two into his hand.  He carefully 
raised her head.  She tensed but took the pills from him, 
then took the water and swallowed them.  He gently 
returned her to the pillow.  "Rest now.  I'm going to clean 
this stuff up."

She didn't respond, trying to get comfortable.  He finally 
rose and took the instruments and trash away.  He stepped 
out on the porch when he was through and took several 
deep breaths.  It didn't stop his hands from shaking, but it 
didn't matter now.

When he felt more in control, he returned inside and 
seeing that she was asleep, began quietly exploring their 
shelter.

The kitchen area yielded the most, now that he was taking 
the time to really look.  There were foodstuffs for a while 
anyway.  Cans of soup, stew, tuna, and corned beef hash 
filled the shelf, along with plastic containers of rice and 
noodles.  It certainly beat power bars.  There was a small 
camp stove and three canisters of fuel in addition to the 
one already hooked up.  The lantern was full and there 
were extra mantels and fuel stored beside it.  Somebody 
obviously used this place on occasion.

The utensils were older and mismatched, laid out in a 
plastic bin.  There were dishes standing in a drainer under 
a dishtowel.  On the shelf under the table was dishwashing 
soap, paper towels and disinfectant wipes.

On the other side of the room was a pot bellied stove 
flanked by two mismatched overstuffed chairs.  Stacked 
beside one of the chairs were a few battered paperback 
books.  In the corner behind that was fishing equipment.  
Past the door were wall hooks.  One held a heavy jacket 
but he could see no other clothes.  

The rickety table that held the washbasin had a few towels 
folded on the shelf underneath it.  A little electricity and 
running water would be nice, but they could stay here for a 
couple of days.  Then maybe she could travel, or he'd feel 
comfortable leaving her for a few hours to scout around.  
That felt like it was a long time away.

He took a seat in one of the chairs and watched her sleep.

When she stirred, he was on his feet immediately and 
approached the bed.  She opened her eyes, blinking and 
seemed to relax slightly when she spotted him.  "How do 
you feel?"

"Okay I guess."  She started to rise and he gently held her 
down.

"What do you need?"

"Didn't you say there was an outhouse in the back?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Then you need to let me up."
 
"I'll take you."  Her eyebrow rose as she just looked at him.  
"I mean I'll carry you out there."

"I can walk, I think."

At that, he helped her to sit up.  She couldn't hide the 
wince but made it to her feet.  He caught her as she 
swayed and lifted her into his arms.  "Let me handle it this 
time."  He glanced down at her bra.  "Uh, maybe you should 
wear this."  

He sat her on the side of the bed and pulled off his t-shirt.  
"It might have taken on my 'essence'."  He grinned.

"That's not a problem." She let him pull it down over her 
head and slipped her good arm into the sleeve.  It came 
down nearly to her knees.  She looked up and grinned, 
then her eyes fell on his shoulder.  "You . . . "

"What?" he glanced down at his shoulder.  He spotted the 
old wound and looked up to meet her eyes.

"We'll have matching scars," she said quietly. "And I'd like 
to hear the story of that scar sometime," She sighed.  "There 
go any strapless dresses."

He winced, then changed the subject.  "Can you handle 
everything else, I mean, one-handed?"

"I'll figure it out," she said dryly, but relaxed when he lifted 
her again into his arms.  It was already getting dusk.  "I 
didn't think I'd slept so long."

"You needed it," he said simply and carefully set her on her 
feet at the door to the outhouse.  "Call me when you're 
ready to head back."

She nodded.  Inside the light was even dimmer, but she 
smiled at the sight of a real toilet seat and even better, toilet 
paper.

He was there immediately when she opened the door and 
took her back into his arms.  "I could try to walk."

"Next time."  He carried her back and settled her in the bed.  
"You should eat something."

"A power bar?"

"No, we have gourmet fixings here.  How about some 
tomato soup and rice."

Her eyes widened.  "Are you kidding?"

He grinned at her expression.  "Relax.  I'll get it ready.  I 
have to take the camp stove outside.  You stay in bed.  
Falling won't help."

"Yes, sir." She knew he had a point and she didn't really 
feel much like moving around.  Her shoulder hurt more 
than she wanted to admit.  To distract herself she brought 
the collar of the t-shirt she now wore up over her nose and 
breathed in his scent.

It wasn't long before he returned with her dinner.  At the 
scent of the hot soup, her eyes closed and she breathed it 
in.  He couldn't help but smile.  He sat beside her and lifted 
the spoon.

"I can feed - "

"Not one-handed; and it's hot."

She looked into his eyes then.  "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I - "

"What's wrong?" she repeated.

He looked away then, "I . . . I should never have let you go 
in first.  I should have -  "

"Thank God you didn't."

"What?" he looked back at her quickly.

"Ren, look at the difference in our heights.  Look where the 
bullet would have struck you."  Her hand came to rest over 
his heart.  "It would have been a kill shot on you."  Later 
she would wonder at that phrase, but it was true.

He blinked at that.  "You have nothing to feel guilty about.  
There's no way we could have known there was a gun 
pointed at the door.  And if I hadn't been turned to look at 
you, it could have been much worse."

He tensed, his hand shaking slightly.

"You've taken very good care of me."  He didn't seem to 
hear that, but she touched his arm, pulling him back to her.  
"Let me go ahead and eat, then I'll take some more aspirin 
and look at those other pills again.  I'm a little clearer now."

He nodded mutely and lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips.  
She was able to eat most of the bowl, then he brought her 
the medication he had found.  She took two more of the 
aspirin and looked closely at the others.  "This is penicillin."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."  She took the bottle of water and swallowed two of 
them.  "You need to eat too."

After a moment, he nodded and fixed himself a bowl.  At 
her insistence, he sat beside her as he ate.  When he was 
through, he lit the lantern and washed up their dishes.  

"I should check your bandage."

She nodded.  "You know I'm going to be okay.  Tomorrow 
morning we can pack up some of this food and get going 
again."

"No.  You can't walk any distance tomorrow, and probably 
not the next day - "

"Ren - "

"Let's see how it goes.  I'm heading out back.  Don't try to 
get up."

"Yes, Dad," she glared at him, but didn't disagree.  He 
reached into the pile of books by the chair and handed her 
a paperback copy of Slan by A. E. van Vogt.  

"Enjoy."  

She mock glared at him but once he was gone, the 
loneliness and the pain seemed to grow to fill the cabin.  
When he returned he found her sitting there, not having 
moved.  "Red?  Are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah."

He eyed her, obviously not believing that.  "Do, uh, do you 
want to go out again?"

"No, I'm fine."

He nodded and took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs.

"Are you not coming to bed?"

"I, uh, I thought I'd sleep over here.  I don't want to hurt 
you."

"You won't hurt me."

"I - "

"Put out the light and come to bed."

He still hesitated, but she pulled the covers down and 
waited.  After a moment, he nodded and put out the lantern, 
then joined her in the bed.  She took a deep breath relaxing 
against him.

"Do you mind?"

"Mind?" he asked quickly.

"I . . . I feel safer this way."

He mused on that for moment.  "Go on to sleep, Red."

She was quiet for so long, he thought she had fallen 
asleep, then he felt her hand come up and her finger 
outlined the old scar on his shoulder.  "Don't you think this 
is . . . strange?"

"Maybe I'm not a very nice guy and someone - "

"I don't believe that.  Since we first woke up, you've looked 
after me."

"And done a great job, right?" he huffed.

"I'm not complaining."

"Go to sleep."

She relaxed against him and closed her eyes.



Without a Trace - 3/?


The next morning she was alone in the bed when she 
woke.  Almost immediately the door opened and Ren 
stepped back inside.  When he saw she was awake, he 
hurried to her side.  "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"Really?"

She looked down at her shoulder.  "It aches but it's not the 
pain like it was yesterday."  She started to sit up and hands 
came up to help her.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to go out back."

"I can - "

"I need to try to walk it."

He started to protest, but her eyebrow rose and he took a 
deep breath.  "Okay, but I'm walking with you."  His look 
brooked no argument so she didn't try.  He helped her to 
her feet and held her as she got steady.

"Are you sure?  I don't mind - "

"Let me try."  She took a tentative step, then another.  She 
held one of his arms as the other went around her.  He was 
there again when she stepped out, holding onto the door 
jamb.

Back inside she sank into the nearest chair.  "I guess I'm 
weaker than I thought."

"Some of that's hunger.  I found some instant oatmeal, let's 
start with that."

She nodded and tried to relax. When he returned to her 
side she tried to sit up straighter.  He saw her wince and 
put the bowl down.  "Maybe you should be back in bed.  I 
can fix the pillows - "

"I need to be up for a little while." She took his hand.  
"Thank you."

He tried to smile, then drew one of the wooden chairs 
closer.  He took the bowl back in his hand and lifted a 
spoon to her lips. 

"I should - "

"Shh.  You have one arm right now.  Just let me do this for 
you."

She nodded and he fed her the oatmeal.  "That's not 
enough, but I'll fix something else in a little while."

"You eat now," she demanded.

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned.

When he was through, he helped her back to the bed.  "I'm 
useless," she whined.

"Hardly.  Red, you were shot.  You need some time."

"But we have to get home.  Someone has to be worried 
about us.  We might have spouses, children - "The look on 
his face stopped her.  He looked so stunned.

"Ren, don't you . . . "

"If we have kids, I'm sure their grandparents are taking 
good care of them."

"If we have kids?" She looked at him for a long moment.  
"You think we know each other, out there."

"Of course we know each other.  Look at us, we're . . . we're 
going through something here; we don't know who we are, 
where we are, what's going on.  The only thing we have is 
each other and, and we're handling it."

After a long moment she nodded.

"And you fit too well in my arms."

She looked down then, but he could see the color in her 
cheeks.

"We still need to get out of here.  I haven't heard a train go 
by since we woke up two days ago."

"I know.  Let's see how you feel tomorrow."

After a moment she nodded and sank back into the 
mattress.  He watched her for a minute, then headed back 
outdoors.  When he didn't return quickly, she forced herself 
out of bed and to the door to check on him.  

He was using the rest of the hot water to bathe.  She stood 
and watched him for a moment, since he was unaware.  
He'd been without his t-shirt since lending it to her, now 
with his jeans unbuttoned and resting low on his hips and 
the water glistening off his skin, she couldn't tear her eyes 
away.  She had slept in those arms the last two nights?  
She could feel a fever rising in her that had nothing to do 
with her wound.  

She could only imagine how she must look after a couple 
days hiking and then everything that had happen since 
they arrived here.  

He turned then and spotted her, causing her cheeks to 
flush even brighter.  He moved immediately in her 
direction.  "Are you okay?  Can I get you anything?"
 
"A long hot bubble bath?" 

He grinned then, relaxing a little.  "Don't think that's going 
to happen any time soon, but I'd be more than happy to 
give you a sponge bath." He waggled his eyebrows at her 
and if possible her blush deepened.  That only drew a more 
appreciative look from him.

"I don't think so.  Maybe I could use some of your water 
when you're through."

He sobered slightly.  "I really could help you clean up." He 
raised his hands in the air.  "I'll be a gentleman.  I think 
you'd feel better."

"Ren - "

"And I could wash your hair for you, if you don't mind 
dishwashing detergent."

She looked up at him a little helplessly.  "Dishwashing 
detergent, great.  We don't even have a comb."

"I'll use my fingers."

"You, you're serious."

He nodded.  "Let me put some more water on to heat."  He 
turned to the pump, then felt her hand on his arm.  He 
looked back at her.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure." He winked then and she couldn't help but 
smile back at him.

While the water was heating, he brought out one of the 
wooden chairs and sat it on the porch, facing the door.  
When he deemed the water okay, he sat her in the chair 
and poured some of the water over her hair, wetting his t-
shirt in the process.  She bit her lips until she saw his grin.

"By the way," she said dryly, "where is my shirt?"

He pointed with his chin toward the pump.  "Soaking." His 
voice dropped.  "I don't think the blood - "

"It's okay.  There's a hole in it anyway."  She glanced up to 
see him shaking his head.

He poured a little of the detergent into his hand and began 
soaping her hair, raising a lather.  She didn't even realize 
she was humming as he massaged her scalp.  He did and 
it was playing havoc with him physically.  

Did she really doubt that they knew each other?  His hands 
knew this woman, his arms knew her.  He glanced down, 
glad he was behind her, all of him knew her.  

After rinsing her hair thoroughly, he dried it as best he 
could with the towel he had been using, then moved her 
inside.  "Take off your clothes."

"I beg your pardon?"

"It won't do any good to bathe unless I wash what we're 
wearing."

"I, I can't . . . "

He handed her the largest of the towels.  "I said I'd be a 
gentleman and I'm trying here, but I need your clothes.  All 
of them."

"All - "

"Every stitch."

"You're enjoying this," she muttered at him.

"No, not enjoying, delighting in it," he leered at her.

"I know we have this memory loss thing, but do I need to 
define 'gentleman' for you?"

"Let me help you with the shirt."  He was grinning as he 
flapped the towel at her.  She rolled her eyes, but took the 
towel from him.  
 
He very carefully lifted the shirt over her head.  The 
bandage had gotten wet, but there was no blood seepage.  
She held the towel up as he removed her bra.  He moved 
away and allowed her to remove her own jeans, underwear 
and socks.  He tossed all of the clothing over near the door.  
He brought more warm water in and seated her.  He 
washed and rinsed her back, then carefully and fully 
washed her feet.  He stood then and stepped back.

"Okay.  I'll go do the laundry while you finish up in here.  I'll 
change your bandage when you're through."

She blinked and watched as he left the room, giving her 
privacy to finish her bath.  She smiled gently after him.  He 
was a gentleman.

She finished bathing and wrapped herself in the sheet, 
leaving her shoulder exposed.  It wasn't long before he 
tapped on the door.  "Come in."

He looked in and pretended disappointment at her toga.  
"So where're the clothes?"

"Hanging over some bushes, drying in the sun.  Have a 
seat.  I'll fix your bandage."

"I guess then I go outside so you can bathe."

"Not in that.  I'll wait until the clothes are dry, then - "

"I could just turn my back.  Then you could go ahead and 
get cleaned up too."

"You expect me to trust you not to peek?"

"Fix my shoulder and I'll try to control myself," she said 
dryly, but he saw the twinkle in her eyes. 

Once her shoulder was re-bandaged, she picked up the 
book he had handed her the night before and took a seat 
in one of the chairs by the stove.  "You promise to be a 
gentleman."

"Of course, Ren." She batted her eyes at him and turned to 
her book.

He watched her for a minute, but she kept her eyes on the 
book.  He moved behind her and began his own bath.

*****

"We need to try to walk out of here," she repeated, not 
backing down.

"You can't.  You're not strong enough and you need to 
heal.  We'll think of something else."

"What else, Ren?  We walked for a couple of days without 
seeing anyone or anything.  For all we know the interstate 
highway is just over the next rise."

"We'd have heard the traffic," he said dryly.

She ignored that, continuing.  "No train has gone by.  Hell, 
we don't even know for sure we were thrown from a train.  
We just happened to wake up near some tracks.  We can't 
just sit here and hope someone stops by."

"No, not forever, but you aren't able to hike for days in the 
hopes of finding rescue.  We've got enough supplies here 
and I think we can wait a little while longer."

"Then you go."

He blinked at that.  "Are you - no!  I am not going to leave 
you here alone and injured.  No."

"Ren, I know you wouldn't ditch me.  You'd be looking for 
help.  And I know you'd come back for me."

"I am not leaving you here alone for days with only the 
hope that I'll find something."

She leaned back then and studied him.  "Okay, what about 
just scouting around?"

"What do you mean?"  His eyes were narrowed, but he was 
listening.

"Well, first thing in the morning you could start out, still 
heading west.  After a few hours, if you don't run into 
anything, you come back.  The next day pick another 
direction.  We know there's nothing for several days back to 
the east, so that narrows it down a little."

"That still leaves you here alone."

"I'm not totally helpless, Ren.  I can fix myself some lunch, 
you could pump me some water before you leave.  We 
have to do something and I can see you're chomping at the 
bit to move on."

"I am not," he said indignantly.

"Yes, you are, but you're a gentleman and trying to hide it."  
He looked torn at those words, so she reached out and took 
his hand.  "At least think about it.  We need to get home, 
wherever that is."

He sighed, but nodded, not quite committing to leaving her.

*****

As she watched him fill the pack with the water bottles and 
some traveling food she felt her pulse quicken.  There was 
no reason to be afraid.  He was even leaving the gun with 
her, but the thoughts of him walking off bothered her more 
than she had thought it would.

She moved with him to the door.  Her hand came to rest on 
his arm.  "You, you will come back."

He looked down at her startled.  "You know I will.  Are you 
okay?"

"Yes, I just . . . "

"Red?"

"I'm going to miss you."

When he tilted her head back to see into her eyes, he saw 
they were filled with unshed tears.  "I can do this tomorrow."

"No," she shook her head.  "I'm being stupid.  Of course 
you need to go.  This was my idea."

"I will be back, before dark."  He leaned down then and 
lightly kissed her lips.  When she didn't pull back, he did it 
again.  "Believe me, I'll be back."

She did smile then.  "Good.  I'll have dinner ready."

"Don't over do," he immediately responded.

"Promise.  Now go, so you can get back."  She rose up on 
tip-toes and gave him one more kiss, then stepped back.  
For an instant she thought he was going to follow her, but 
he squared his shoulders and stepped out onto the front 
porch, and into the small yard.

He looked back and waved once, then picked up his pace 
and headed out, paralleling the tracks.

He was out of sight too soon for her, but she kept quiet.  
They had to do this; they had to get out, find their way 
home, wherever that was.  She closed the door firmly 
behind her and settled into the chair next to the stove.  She 
sat staring at the door for a moment or two, then with a sigh 
picked up the book he had handed her earlier.

*****

His steps slowed for a moment once he was out of sight of 
the cabin.  He actually stopped and turned back, but shook 
his head and started out again.  She was holding up as 
best she could, but she'd been injured, she could be 
getting an infection even now.  He had to get her back to 
civilization.  They had to find out who they were and why 
there were out here in the middle of nowhere.

Keeping the sun behind him, he continued west as they 
had been traveling.  His steps grew longer, eating up the 
ground.  Without her beside him he did make better time, 
but it wasn't nearly as much fun.  When nothing changed 
in front of him he picked up his pace until he was jogging.

It would have been nice to have something to think about.  
Of course remembering her, remembering the feel of the 
short woman he knew as Red was pleasant, but there 
wasn't enough of it.  He still believed they knew each 
other; they had to, to be as close as they were.  When she 
had hit the floor of that porch he had panicked, frozen for 
an instant.  Somehow he had known that without her he 
didn't care if he was found.  It didn't make a lot of sense if 
they were strangers.  Of course being out here in the 
middle of nowhere made no sense either, even if they were 
together.

Food wasn't a great topic for thought either, since he only 
carried power bars, leaving the food with her.  If something 
should happen to him, she'd be able to feed herself until 
she was strong enough to start out looking for help herself.  
But nothing was going to happen to him.  He was going to 
get back to her and he was going to find help, if not today, 
then tomorrow.  Damn it was a long day.

****

When he opened the door she flew across the room and 
buried her face in his chest.  He was taken aback, but 
delighted as his arms closed around her quickly.  "Are you 
okay?  Red, what - "

"I'm, I'm fine.  I . . . it's been a long day."  She started to step 
back but his arms tightened around her.

He smiled then and gave her a quick kiss.  "For me too.  
Hey, why are you not wearing your sling?"

"I've been careful, but I needed my arm a little bit."  Her 
hand caressed his cheek.  "I guess, since there's no 
cavalry behind you, that you didn't find anything."

He shook his head.  "No, nothing west and northwest that I 
ran into."

"Come on, you must be hungry.  Have a seat."

She had heated a large can of stew, and his bowl was 
heaping.  Before taking a bite, he checked to ensure her 
bowl was also full.  The crackers were a little stale, but he 
was hungry enough not to care.  He'd eaten half before he 
looked up at her again, to find her smiling at him.  "It's 
good," he offered.

She nodded and turned back to her food.  She got him 
seconds over his protests and finished off the pot into her 
bowl at his insistence.

When they were finished, she took the bowls up to wash 
later.  They had been practically licked clean, then she 
followed him outside where he pumped some more water 
and stripped off his t-shirt to wash.  She sat on the back 
steps, admiring the view and relaxing, knowing that he was 
back and safe.

She realized he was aware of her when he started with the 
bump and grind routine.  She laughed out loud and he 
turned to face her.  "You think I'm funny, not sexy?" he 
groused.

"You're extremely sexy and you damn well know it."

He grinned then and toweled off, then came to sit beside 
her on the steps.  It would be dark soon, but the twilight 
was pretty and with the breeze the bugs weren't too bad.

"So, what did you see?"  She looked over at him.  It was 
disconcerting being quite this close with that heat radiating 
off of him.

"A whole lot of nothing.  Trees, the tracks.  It was a long 
day."

"Here too."

His arm went around her then.  "I'll keep you company 
tonight."  He didn't comment on the color that brought to 
her face, savoring it quietly instead.  He'd missed her 
desperately out there today.  There was the feeling that he 
was more vulnerable without her at his back, or side as it 
were.  Yes, whatever else, he knew this woman.

"Tomorrow?" she asked after a minute.

"South.  Unless we're in some giant terrarium there has to 
be someone else out there.  Since we don't have a plow or 
seeds, I want to find them before the food runs out.

She said nothing, leaning against him.

Shortly the breeze died down and the bugs began making 
their presence known.  They took turns in the outhouse 
then slipped back inside.

She watched him get ready for bed.  "Ren, maybe I could 
go with you tomorrow."

He was already shaking his head before he looked up.  
"Not yet.  I move faster and get back here quicker this way.  
If I still don't find anything, we'll see day after tomorrow.  
You don't need to be back on a ration of power bars yet."

"You're right."  She let him help her with removing her t-
shirt but when he handed her his, she merely brought it to 
her face, then draped it over the chair.  She was still 
wearing her plain cotton bra.

"R-Red?"
 
"Yes."

"What are you . . . "

"I want to feel you around me tonight."

He stared, speechless for a moment.  "I want that too," he 
finally said.

He could see the tension leave her shoulders and her eyes 
lightened.  "Come on."  He led her to the bed and pulled the 
faded quilt back, holding her hand as she reclined.  He 
turned off the lamp then circled around to his side of the 
bed and sat on the edge.  

"The jeans, Ren."

"You don't mind?"

"You'll be more comfortable."

"But will you?" he asked seriously.

"Yes."

He smiled then and lowered his jeans, then slipped into the 
bed beside her.  She cuddled in beside him.  When her 
hand came to rest on his chest he froze.

"Ren?"

"You're a very attractive woman, Red.  You know I think we 
know each other; that we're connected, but I'm not going to 
rush you."

"You're not rushing anything.  We're out here, alone.  If 
you're right, this is a normal thing with us.  If you're not . . . 
this isn't real anyway."  He could hear the smile in her 
voice, that's when he realized his hand was caressing her 
abdomen.  

*****

Without a Trace - 4/?


She watched his hand move caressingly over her.   Then 
she looked up into the eyes that watched her with love 
rather than lust.  

"I want you, Red, you have to know that, but I don't want to 
hurt you."  He brushed the hair from her face.  "I - "

"You won't."

"You're still not recovered - "

"So this time, you can be on top."

"This time?"  Now there was some lust in his eyes and she 
couldn't help the smile.  "I told you we knew each other."  
He bent over her then, nipping her lips.  She sucked his 
lower lip into her mouth and felt his reaction against her 
thigh.

He carefully slipped the t-shirt up over her injured arm and 
over her head.  Her breasts were there, full and inviting 
before him.  No bra.  Slowly he lowered his head and took 
one of those lush nipples into his mouth.  Her indrawn 
breath brought her even closer.

Her hand wove itself into his hair, anchoring him to her 
body.  Her moan caused an even larger reaction and her 
eyes gleamed.  He pulled back and he heard the stifled 
whimper.  He slipped her slacks down her legs, taking the 
silky underwear with them.

"You too."

"Um?"

"I want to see what I've forgotten."

"Hussy," he whispered in her ear before he rose and 
slipped his jeans down his legs.  Commando, and 
impressive.   He watched her eyes widen, but there was no 
reticence in that look.

He reclined on his side next to her, his hand trailed down 
to her core as his lips nipped at hers.  The gasp as he 
slipped his finger into her moist clef caused his smile.  She 
definitely was ready for him.  A second finger followed and 
she writhed beneath him.  He found that bundle of nerves 
and flicked it.  She arched, and their eyes met and held.
He pressed against it and she shattered in his arms, 
shuddering as the world vanished and the only thing she 
was conscious of was his body hovering above her.

When the world righted itself again, she looked up to see a 
very self-satisfied smile.  She couldn't help the chuckle.

"Told you we knew each other," he growled.

"Your turn."

"You sure you're okay?"

"Any more okay and I'd spontaneously combust."

"Can't have that," and he loomed over her.  Slowly he 
began entering her, giving her time to adjust and drawing 
out the anticipation for himself.  Damn she was tight and so 
hot.  She accepted his pace, watching him, knowing he 
would not hurt her.  

When he was fully sheathed into her he paused, meeting 
her eyes.  At her barest nod, he withdrew and her eye was 
drawn down to watch him enter her again.  She watched 
mesmerized as he thrust into her.  Familiar wasn't the 
correct word, but 'right' definitely was.  She raised her eyes 
to his face again and he faltered in his rhythm.  He loved 
this woman, it wasn't just the sex.  She was his.  His arms 
were shaking now from the tension of holding back.  She 
reached up and caressed his cheek, undoing him 
completely and he lost control, filling her with his heat, his 
essence.  

He rolled to the side, so as not to crush her and realized 
that she had come again, with him.  He managed to pull 
her close and they returned to themselves in each other's 
arms.  "You're mine," he whispered as her eyes closed, 
sated and secure.

He was nearly asleep himself when it hit him.  They had 
used no protection.  It hadn't occurred to either of them.  His 
hand returned to her abdomen.  If she were pregnant, that 
was fine with him.  

*****

He woke at dawn and looked down at this woman beside 
him.  Even the tiniest doubt was erased from his mind now.  
He knew this woman.  He knew her body, and what 
pleased her.  Last night had blown his mind.  At his age, 
chances were he had quite a bit of experience with 
women, but nothing could have been better than last night.

They'd come together twice, but he wanted her again.  He 
had to leave, but . . . he realized her eyes were open.

"Red?"

"Yes.  Please."  She reached for him and he didn't hesitate.

*****

He was later leaving than he had planned.  She had 
insisted she pack his bag for his day while he got ready.  
Her goodbye kiss was a steamy promise of things to come, 
but he had to go.  

He headed south, waiting until he was out of sight again to 
break into a jog.  He had even more reason to hurry back 
this time.  He kept up an easy pace, obviously he ran in his 
real life.  Now he just had to be more careful of his terrain; 
nothing could keep him from returning to her.

He slowed down while he ate, but didn't stop.  She had 
added extra power bars, which caused a smile.  She knew 
he'd used a lot of energy last night.

He was beginning to wonder when he should think about 
turning around when a sound caught his attention.  He 
stopped, focusing on a location.  After a minute he was 
moving again.  It was an engine.  His pace increased.

The jeep was moving toward him, but the ranger hit the 
brakes when he spotted the man running toward him.  He 
stepped from the jeep and Ren stopped in front of him, 
chest heaving.  A younger ranger stayed in the jeep.

"Where the hell did you come from?" the ranger asked, 
eyeing Ren's clothing and especially his running shoes.

While he got his breath back Ren placed one hand on the 
hood of the jeep.  "Back, back there; to the north.  Look, I 
need help.  My companion was injured.  I have to get back 
to her."

"Injured?  Look, I'm Gary Bass."  He held out his hand.  Ren 
shook it.  "This is my partner, Curtis."

"I'm Ren."

"Uh, Ren.  So where were you?"

"We're staying at a cabin - "

"Cabin?  What cabin?"

"Uh, it's about four hours north on foot, near the train 
tracks."

"Train tracks?  Mr., uh, Ren there's no cabin and no train 
tracks here.  This is a national forest and you - "

"Which one?  Where are we?"

"Excuse me?" Gary backed up a step, his hand resting 
lightly on his sidearm.

"I'm sorry, it's . . . complicated, but I need to get back to her.  
She was shot - "

"Okay, this is getting weirder by the minute.  You're in 
Chippewa National Forest.  Who's been shot?"

Ren took in that information.  A national forest, a big one 
obviously, and they must be in the damn center of it.  "The 
woman with me, Red.  It was an accident.  The cabin was 
booby-trapped and when she opened the door - "

"I need to call this in."

"Yeah, I understand, but can you get me back to her.  We 
need to get her to a hospital."

"Four hours - "

"That was walking and jogging.  How far are we from 
civilization?"

"Depends on your definition," Gary said.  "There's a ranger 
outpost about a mile that way." He gestured to his left.

"What's there?"

"Not much.  We keep some gas for the jeep, a first aid kit."

"Will you take me back; help me get her to a hospital?"

"After I call this in."

"Sure, go ahead," Ren agreed, "but we need to get moving.  
It'll be dark before we can get her back here."  After a 
minute Ren straightened up and looked Gary in the eye.  "I 
know you have no reason to trust me.  Call for backup, do 
whatever it takes to feel safe, but we have to get to her."

At that Gary nodded.  "Let's head for the outpost and fill the 
tanks.  The reception's better there.  I can reach my 
headquarters."

"Thank you."  Ren climbed into the backseat of the jeep.  
Gary started the jeep up.  They reached the outpost in 
minutes and Gary tried for a connection on his cell phone 
as Ren and Curtis filled the tanks.  

Gary joined them when he finished his conversation.

"Is anyone coming?"

"No, no one answered.  I got the machine at our office, but I 
was able to get the FBI field office.  I gave them your 
description and that you were with a red headed woman.  
Since you've been missing for days I thought they might be 
looking for you. "

"Were they?"

"They're checking.  We're going to be out of range most of 
the time, but they promised to look into it."

"So, are you coming with me?"

"Yeah, I left a message at our office with our location and 
direction.  They're gonna think I'm crazy; there's no cabin 
or tracks out there."

Ren didn't bother to argue with that.  "The tanks're full and 
we loaded the spare container.  It's full too."

"You know I'm insane to go off like this."

"Yeah, and I appreciate it."

"She your wife?" Gary asked to start a conversation.

"We're together."

Gary nodded.  "What are you guys doing out here?"

"That's gonna be harder to explain."

*****

They were back at the cabin in less than two hours.  

"I don't believe this," Gary slowed the jeep to a halt in front.  
"There's no cabin here."

"There's no tracks either I suppose," Ren pointed to the 
right.

Gary looked over at Curtis.  "Can you get pictures on that 
phone of yours?"

Curtis nodded and exited the jeep.  Ren climbed out after 
him and hurried to the door.  "Red!"

She hurried to the door when she heard his voice.  She 
came into his arms instantly, relieved.  "I didn't know 
whether to hide or . . . " She buried her face in his chest.

"It's okay.  We've got a ride back to civilization and you can 
get that arm looked after.  They've notified the FBI and left a 
message at the ranger's station."

She nodded, sighing.  "Can we go now?"

"Sure.  Is there anything here you need?"

"Only you," she managed to say.

He smiled and led her to the jeep.  "This is Gary and Curtis, 
our rescuers.  We can get acquainted on the way back."

"Want a picture?" Gary grinned.

Ren smiled.  "Why not?  It'll go well in our family album."

She rolled her eyes, but dutifully posed in front of the 
house.

"Now let's get the hell out of here," Ren helped her into the 
back of the jeep, then joined her.  Gary backed up and 
headed back the way they had come.  They were about 
fifteen minutes from the house when they heard the 
helicopter.

"Helicopter?  I wonder who sent that.  We don't have any 
copters."

"It's not marked," Ren noted, exchanging glances with Red.

Curtis took a picture of it with his phone and Gary opened 
his mouth to give him some grief about it when Ren sat up 
and pointed toward it.  "What the - "

Before he could finish, a fire ball and plume of smoke rose 
from where the house had stood.  

"Shit!  What was - " Gary skidded to a stop.

"Don't!  Go, step on it and not back the way we came."  
Ren's orders were automatic and Gary didn't consider not 
obeying.  He cut left into the woods, staying under cover of 
trees.  They watched the copter as it stayed in place over 
the cabin for a few minutes, then began heading back 
slowly, as though looking for them.

"Get deep in the trees and stop."  Ren's voice was low and 
controlled.

Gary didn't bother to respond, just pulling closer to the trees 
and cutting the engine.  

"What the hell's going on?" Gary asked quietly, watching 
the sky.

"We weren't supposed to be found.  Someone you 
contacted isn't happy."

"The FBI?" Gary met his eyes.

"I don't know. You said you left word at the ranger's station 
as well."

"But why would we want to do that?"  

"You didn't know about the cabin or the tracks.  You 
probably weren't supposed to."

"You were dumped here?"

"I don't think we 'fell' off of any damn train.  I'm wondering 
if we were supposed to survive it.  Any chance you have 
reception on that thing?" Ren turned to Curtis, pointing at 
his phone.

"Not here, but it comes and goes."

"How's your battery?"

"Fully charged and the charger is in the glove 
compartment."

"Keep an eye on it.  If you get a signal, send those pictures 
to every number in your directory."

Curtis nodded, grinning.

"You think that's a good idea?"

"I think these people what anonymity.  If they don't have it, 
maybe they'll go back into hiding.  At least that's what I'm 
hoping until we can find out what's going on."

"So where do we go?"

"Good question.  Since we don't know this area, we're at 
your mercy.  I'd think we'd want to largest population we 
can find."

"Population.  That's going to take some doing.  Curtis, get 
out the map."

Red had kept quiet, watching for the copter to return and 
listening to the men.

"Are we in danger from a fire?" she finally asked quietly.

Ren looked over at her, startled, then quickly back at Gary.

"Shouldn't be.  It's been damp, but you can't count on it.  
Can we move yet?"

All four of them searched the skies then.  After an 
involuntary look to Ren for permission, Gary started out 
again.  

"Ren?"  He looked down at her.  "Are we dangerous 
criminals or something?  Why would someone . . . bomb 
that cabin?"

His brow furrowed and his arm went around her.  "I don't 
think we're the dangerous ones.  We haven't fired on 
anyone, or bombed anyone.  We just want to get home.  I'm 
wondering if we know something we shouldn't.  They 
didn't want to kill us outright, so they dumped us.  But we 
didn't die and I don't plan to now."

Ren looked up at Gary who was watching them in the 
mirror.  "How long before we reach somewhere?"

"Another couple of hours.  I'm just glad you filled that spare 
can.  We may have to get into it before we get to Bemidji.  I 
was thinking about heading to one of the camp sites, but 
now I'm thinking we want more than that.  Maybe a sheriff 
and some reliable communication."

Ren nodded.  "I didn't mean to get you guys into anything 
like this."

Gary met his eyes again.  "I believe you.  Just keep your 
eyes and ears open."

They were all quiet after that.  The helicopter did not 
reappear and speculation wasn't going to help.  

Still weak from her ordeal, Red finally dozed off against 
Ren's shoulder.  He looked down watching her until he felt 
Curtis' eyes on him.  He looked up and the younger man 
blushed.  Silently Ren nodded to him.  Curtis returned the 
nod and turned back to his phone.  He'd managed to get 
several text messages out along with the pictures, but they 
didn't know if they'd been received or viewed.

Ren looked up startled when they eased up on a paved 
road.

"It won't be long now," Gary advised him.  "Curtis, try to get 
Sheriff Wayans on the phone.  Tell him we've found some 
injured hikers and are bringing them in."

Curtis nodded and began dialing.  Red woke while he was 
talking to the deputy and immediately clutched at Ren's 
arm.  "Is it safe?  Should we be talking to anyone?"

"It's the sheriff," he said soothingly.

"And either the Forest Service or the FBI sent a black 
helicopter after us."

"We can't be sure of that.  The phones could have been 
tapped.  If they could do that to every law enforcement 
around a national forest, we're screwed either way.  You 
need to see a doctor."

"I know.  I just . . . "

He leaned in and kissed her.  "We need to know what's 
going on, I agree.  Let's get some people around us.  Let's 
talk to the sheriff and get the information out there to 
everyone we can."

After a moment she nodded.  In less than half an hour they 
exited the forest and headed for the town.  Gary drove to 
the sheriff's office and parked.  Ren helped her from the 
back of the jeep while Gary and Curtis kept watch.  They 
herded her inside and found Sheriff Wayans waiting.  

"Gary," they shook hands.  "I called Doc Moss; he's on his 
way over."

"Thank you," Ren said quickly.

The Sheriff turned toward him.  "Steve, this is Ren.  He and 
Red were the ones staying in the cabin that was blown up," 
Gary offered.

"Yeah, I'd like to hear more about that.  I did call the FBI 
field office like you asked.  I'm waiting for a call back.  
Didn't you say you had pictures?"

Gary turned to Curtis, who handed him the phone.  Gary 
pulled up the pictures and handed it to Steve.

"Geez, what's going on?  There aren't supposed to be 
cabins - "

"Yeah, and black helicopters aren't supposed to bomb 
them.  Can we use your computer?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Who are you going to send the pictures to now?" Red 
asked quietly.

"The media," Ren answered before Gary could.  

She looked over at him worried, but didn't contradict him.  

Curtis took the seat and began surfing the web.  Gary stood 
at his shoulder offering suggestions.

The Sheriff looked back over at Ren and Red.  "You don't 
remember what happened to you?"

"No, and we're vulnerable because of it.  I'm hoping Gary 
was right to trust you," Ren didn't back down.

"I've known Gary for years.  I'm not going to let him down."

"Thank you."

Before he could say anything else the phone rang.  Steve 
excused himself and moved over to answer it.  Ren took a 
seat beside Red, not talking.  She slipped her hand into 
his.  He was back on his feet when the bell over the front 
door tinkled.  Gary looked up as well and smiled, moving 
toward the older man.

"Doc, we've got one for you here."

"Yeah, Steve called.  What's going on?"

"Gunshot."

Dr. Moss's eyebrow rose and he moved over to Red.  After 
he began speaking with Red and examining her, Ren 
looked over at the Sheriff.  Steve motioned for him to join 
him and after squeezing her hand, he did.

"Those pictures, there's one of the two of you, right?"

"Yes, in front of the cabin."

"This is the FBI, they want me to forward that one to them.  
You okay with that?"

Ren looked back at her.  She nodded.  He sighed and 
turned back to Steve.  "Yeah, go ahead."

Quickly Steve was back with them, after a short 
conversation with someone at the FBI.  "Well, I don't know 
who you are, but something's going on," Steve poured 
another cup of coffee.  Everyone turned to look at him.  
"We've got an Assistant Director of the FBI coming here to 
check things out."

"Assistant Director?" Ren said, puzzled.

"Yep.  And I'm supposed to make sure you're safe until he 
gets here."

"Are we under arrest?" Red asked, causing everyone to 
turn to her.

"No.  You're special guests from what I'm hearing."

"They know who we are?"

Steve shrugged.  "If so, I'm not in the loop.  I'm to keep you 
here and away from everyone."  He settled into his office 
chair.  "I guess you're sleeping in the holding cell tonight."

"Excuse me?" Red looked up quickly.

"I don't have a lot of choice here.  This is the safest place to 
be and you've got the three of us here to guard you.  Why 
don't you both get cleaned up and rest a little.  The FBI 
honcho said he'd be late but he'd be here tonight."

*****


Without a Trace (5/?)


It was after midnight when the bell over the door rang and a 
large, bald man with military posture entered the room.  
Ren glanced over at Red, she hadn't wakened.  He moved 
to the cell door and joined the other men, standing slightly 
behind them.

The bald man pulled out his ID and presented it to the 
sheriff.  "Walter Skinner, we talked on the phone."

"Yes sir.  Can you tell me what's - "

"Not at this time."  Skinner looked up at Mulder, giving him 
the once over quickly.  "Are you okay?"

"Mostly confused.  Am I a fugitive?"

Skinner blinked at that.  No one had mentioned a memory 
loss to him.  "Is Scully with you?"

"Scully?"

"I was told a red headed woman - "

"Oh, Red, yes.  She's asleep."

"She's okay?"

"She was shot."

Ren watched the man jerk forward and glance immediately 
toward the holding cell Ren had indicated.  Ren's eyes 
narrowed.

"We need to talk."  Skinner turned toward the sheriff.  "Do 
you have a room?"

"Uh, yeah, our interrogation room.  It's small."

"That's no problem.  It will just be the three of us."

"She's asleep," Ren protested.

"I don't know how much time we have.  We need to talk, 
now.  We can't leave her out of this.  She'd skin us both 
alive."

Again Ren's eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, 
Red was at his side.  Skinner's eyes raked her and Ren's 
arm went around her, staking his territory.  Skinner looked 
down, then headed for the small room the sheriff had 
indicated.  He opened the door for them and closed it 
behind them.  He took a chair, and they sat across the table 
from him.

"Okay, I didn't realize there was a memory problem, but it 
makes sense.  You're FBI agents, partners.  Mulder," he 
looked over at Ren, "you've been with the Bureau since 
you were recruited out of Oxford.  You're a Ph.D. in 
psychology.  Scully, Dana, you're a medical doctor, a 
forensic pathologist.  You were assigned to Mulder six 
years ago."  He watched them absorb this information in 
silence.

"Your family is frantic."  The look of panic on both of their 
faces confused him and he watched her lean into Mulder.

"What family?" Ren demanded.

"Her mother, her brothers," Skinner responded.  He 
watched her eyes close and he realized it was in relief.  
"Look, I don't know how much time we have."

"Wait a minute.  Time?  What the hell is going on here?  
Were we - "

"You were taken, the two of you, by the conspirators you've 
been investigating.  I'm not sure how you got free, but - "

"Conspirators?"

"We don't have time for this; I didn't realize I'd have to 
explain everything.  They've probably figured out where 
you are by now.  That puts everyone in danger.  We need 
to get out of here.  Do you think you can trust me?"

"She needs to rest."

"Ren, I can - "

"What did you call him?" Skinner interrupted.

"I call him Ren, short for Renard," she explained.

"Renard?  That, that's French for Fox," the bald man said, 
almost to himself.

"Uh, yes, I think so."

"His name is Fox Mulder."

"Fox?" Mulder sounded outraged.

"I didn't name you.  We can talk in the car.  We've got to 
go."  

Mulder opened his mouth to protest but her hand on his 
arm stopped him.  Skinner watched the byplay then rose.

"Mr. Skinner, could you tell us how Re-Mulder got his scar, 
on his shoulder?"

"Well, uh, you shot him."

"I shot - !"

"It was to save him and it worked."

"Sounds like you owe me, Red."  He grinned at her.

"Come on," Skinner said from the door.  "We need to get 
moving.  You've really started something."

Mulder opened his mouth to ask another question, but 
Skinner had walked out and was giving instructions to the 
sheriff.

"We need to go, Ren."

"As long as you don't call me 'Fox'."

She smiled then, "I promise."

He grabbed up the plastic bag of toiletries the sheriff had 
supplied them and after quick thank you's and goodbye's 
ushered her out the door, following Skinner.  They climbed 
into the car he had rented and pulled away.

"I'd like to take you to a safe house, but I'm now officially 
outside of Bureau territory.  First I want to ditch this car."

"Ditch - what, are you planning to steal a car?" Ren asked 
watching this man he had entrusted Red and himself to.

"Matter of fact I am.  Rental cars have GPS systems in them 
now.  They could track us by satellite."

"You're serious," Red joined them from the back, leaning 
over Ren's seat.

"Deadly."

"I think we need to know a little more about what we've 
stepped in here," Mulder's sarcasm was strong now.

"You sure as hell do," Skinner replied without taking his 
eyes from the road, but then fell silent.  Ren looked back at 
Red who shrugged.  

They pulled into the motel a couple of miles from the 
sheriff's office and parked next to a similar car.  Skinner 
took no time breaking into the car, grabbing his small bag 
from the original car.  Again Red took the backseat, though 
she ignored Ren's suggestion she try to rest.

Skinner pulled out and headed toward the highway.

"Mr. Skinner," Red leaned forward again.  "Please tell us 
about this conspiracy that's done this to us."

Skinner glanced back at her, then returned his attention to 
the road.  "Yeah, I know."  He took a deep breath and still 
hesitated.  "You two work in a division called the X-Files.  It 
handles unsolved cases, cases that, that the Bureau 
doesn't want to face."

"Excuse me?" she asked quickly.

"Paranormal cases, unexplained phenomena . . . UFOs."

Ren's head slowly turned toward him.  "What?  Are you 
saying that I, that we, chase after little green men?"

"Gray," Skinner said softly with a hint of a smile at his lips.

"What?"

Skinner sighed.  "Just let me tell it once.  Someday you're 
going to realize just how damn ironic this is."

*****

Mulder looked back at Red.  She had finally given in and 
drifted off to sleep.  That had given him the opportunity to 
question Skinner more closely.  

"Okay, I've listened to you.  I can tell you're telling me the 
truth as you know it."
Skinner opened his mouth to protest, but Mulder 
continued, "From what you've said I'm the kook, why hurt 
her?"

Skinner looked over at him, "They've used her before."

Mulder tensed.  "What do you mean?"

"Is she asleep?"  Mulder nodded.  "They've taken her at 
least three times.  The first time she was returned in a coma 
and not expected to live.  I still don't know how she did."  
He noted Mulder's shiver but continued.  "The second time 
you tracked her down and brought her back."

"Where from?"

"Antarctica."

Mulder just stared at him for a long moment.  "You're 
serious."

Skinner nodded.  "You don't give her up.  You're the one 
that cured her cancer."

"I cured cancer?" His voice rose slightly and he looked back 
to make sure she hadn't been disturbed.  "Is all this some 
elaborate leg pulling?" he finally asked.

Skinner shook his head.  "No, but I don't blame you for 
thinking that.  I just wish you had your memories.  You 
obviously found something.  How are we going to protect 
you if we don't know what you know?"

"Are you in touch with your office?"

"No.  I can't trust anyone there.  Cancerman has access to 
everything."

"You're sure he's involved?"

Skinner looked over at him, "Well, I'm sure your memory's 
really gone if you're asking me that.  We need to find a safe 
place to hole up until I can think of something."

Again Mulder looked into the back seat.  "We'll help."

Skinner nodded.  "I want us to disappear for now.  Your 
pictures are on the web, the photo of the two of you in front 
of the cabin before it was destroyed.  So we need to keep a 
low profile.  I want a city, where we won't stand out.  St. 
Louis?"

"We're in your hands."

Skinner looked over at him and after a moment nodded.

*****

Scully joined Skinner on the small balcony overlooking the 
parking lot.  She walked over to the rail and looked up at 
him.  "Thank you."

He glanced down, surprised.  "For what?"

She smiled then.  "For taking all this time.  I'm sure you 
didn't expect to be facing this."

"I didn't know about the memory issue, but you're that 
much more vulnerable because of it.  I hope you don't think 
I'm trying to rush you."

"No.  It's more like we want to rush ourselves."

He gave her a tight smile, but didn't comment.  They both 
turned to look out at the parking lot, quiet but not 
uncomfortable.

She looked down when she heard the door open below 
them.  The new tenant stepped outside and the smoke from 
her cigarette wafted up toward them.  Skinner felt Scully 
stiffen and he looked over at her.  She had gone dead 
white.  Concerned, he reached for her.  She grabbed her 
head and swayed.

Skinner scooped her up in his arms and headed inside.  
"Mulder!"

Mulder stepped out of the kitchen and spotted them.  "Red!"  
He moved to take her but Skinner was already carrying her 
into their bedroom.  "What?  What happened?"

"I don't know.  We were just standing on the balcony.  It 
looked like she was in pain, then she collapsed."  He lay 
her gently on the bed and stepped back before Mulder 
could shove him.

"Red, Red can you hear me?"  Her eyes were tightly shut 
and her face pale.  "Red, please."

Her hand came out and he took hold of it, but she kept her 
eyes closed.  She didn't speak.

"I'll call 911." Skinner reached for the phone.

"No," she said faintly.  The two men exchanged glances 
and Skinner stopped.

"Red, what happened?" Mulder's voice cracked, and her 
grip on his hand tightened.  

With an effort she opened her eyes and he could see the 
pain on her face.  His free hand cupped her cheek.

"I'll get her some water," Skinner said, leaving them alone.

"Mulder, I . . . "

His eyes widened.  "You remember."

She closed her eyes, but nodded slightly.

"What?  What do you remember?"

Skinner joined them then, a glass of water in his hand.  
Scully looked up and met 
his eyes.  Mulder felt cold suddenly, not a member of the 
club.  "Red?"

"I'm okay, just a headache."

"What happened?"

"I don't . . . " He gathered her to him, but she was stiff, not 
coming into his arms as she had since they had come to 
beside the tracks.  She looked back over at Skinner who 
excused himself.

Mulder glanced back when he heard the door close.  "Talk 
to me."

She hesitated.  "I'm sorry."  She moved slightly away from 
him and his brow furrowed.

"What is it you remember about us?"

She looked down and felt him stand.  She reached for his 
hand.  "We, we're partners . . . "

"Partners."  His voice was flat, devoid of all emotion.

"No, we're more than that, but we, we're not . . . " She 
glanced at the bed they had shared the last few nights.

"We're not lovers."

Color returned to her face in a blush.

"Don't worry about it, Red.  I'll sleep out there."  His voice 
was distant, cool.

"Mulder - "

"Don't worry about it."  He shut the door, leaving her alone 
in the bedroom.

Skinner was waiting for him.  "She okay?"

"She's fine." Mulder didn't look at him, moving past him to 
the living room.

Skinner watched him, then after a moment turned toward 
their bedroom.  He knocked and waited for Scully's 
response.  "Scully?"

"Yes sir."

He gave her a grim smile.  "So you do remember."

She nodded.  He looked back toward the living room.  
"What's wrong with him?"

She glanced down at the bed, then back up at Skinner.

"Oh."

"I think we need to debrief," she said quietly.

"Are you - "

"The sooner the better."  She rose and he took her arm.  
She didn't resist.

"Mulder," Skinner called to him.  "We need to talk."

"Do you really need me there?"

"Mulder, please.  It's to save our lives," Scully said softly.

He looked at her, then away and took a deep breath.  He 
sat at the table beside Skinner.  She didn't comment on the 
physical distance.  She had forced the real distance 
between them.

"When did you realize we were missing?" Scully looked at 
Skinner.

"Not until Monday morning.  We had no indication of a 
problem; you just didn't show up for work."

"Mulder and I were at my apartment Friday night - "

"Together?" Mulder interrupted.  "Why?"

She hesitated, then decided to ignore Skinner's presence.  
"We often get together outside of the office.  We're very 
close and . . . "

"Yeah, go ahead."  Mulder looked down and she sighed.

"We had finished eating and were watching a movie.  
There was a knock on the door and I answered it.  It was 
the pizza man that regularly delivers to us, but we hadn't 
placed an order.  He stepped inside to use the phone and 
see where he should have been; at least that was his 
excuse.  Once the door was closed he, he morphed back 
into the alien bounty hunter."

"The what?" Mulder finally looked up.

"Bounty hunter.  We've seen him before.  He can look like 
anyone and we can't tell.  Once he turned himself into you 
and . . . We couldn't fight him.  I wasn't armed and you 
couldn't shoot because I was too close.  He, his blood is 
green and toxic to humans.  He's strong and . . . " She 
closed her eyes and Mulder lurched forward wanting to 
take her in his arms.  He forced himself back and waited.

"He threw you into the door frame of my kitchen, stunning 
you, then he knocked you out.  I'm not sure what 
happened then, but I was knocked out as well.  The next 
thing I knew we were in one of their train cars."  She looked 
over at Skinner.  "Remember when Mulder was missing 
and we found him in Blue Earth, Iowa?  One of those cars, 
but we were both in the one car.  They were dressed in 
biohazard suits, so I don't know that I could identify any of 
them, but they don't usually have identities anyway, do 
they?" her voice sounded bitter now and Mulder glanced 
up at her.

"I don't know what they were doing.  I don't know why they 
took us."

"Do you know where you were?"

She shook her head.  "Just in one of the train cars.  I could 
hear Mulder.  He was struggling, screaming at them to 
leave me alone, not to hurt me."  She closed her eyes at the 
memory.  "I was there, but I couldn't move, I couldn't . . .  
Then he was quiet, like a switch had been flicked.  I was 
struggling but I couldn't move.  Then he was bending over 
me, Cancerman.  Everything in the room was clean, sterile 
until he was there.  The stench of him, from the cigarettes . 
. . that's what brought my memory back.  The woman 
downstairs' cigarette . . .  He moved away and I heard him 
say, 'take it all', then . . . I was lying on the ground next to 
the tracks and Mulder was bending over me."

They were all silent for a moment.  She could feel Mulder 
watching her and couldn't meet his eyes.

"What were you working on?  What case?" Skinner probed 
gently.

"It wasn't even an X-File.  We were looking at an older case 
involving missing children in Arkansas.  We had done 
everything we could from DC and were going to ask you 
about flying down there the next week."

Skinner nodded.  "A cold case?  Mulder dug it out and . . . "

They both turned to look at him.  "What?  I'm just sitting 
here taking up space." His anger was barely contained.

"That's not true. It will come back, it did for me.  You 
understand better than either of us what's going on.  We 
need your help."

He wanted to look away, but her blue eyes, the eyes that 
had shown him love until a short while ago held him.  She 
hadn't fallen out of love, whatever she remembered now it 
was still there.  When he looked at her, really looked, it was 
there.  She couldn't hide it from him.

"Tell me about the case, the kids in Arkansas."

Scully closed her eyes for an instant in relief, then nodded.  
"It started a few years ago.  Children were taken, male and 
female, kept for three or four days, then returned.  They 
didn't remember anything, they were not molested.  They 
were apparently drugged, but the lab tests were unable to 
identify the drug used."

"Was everyone returned?"

Scully nodded.  "That's why it wasn't given a higher priority.  
By the time the Bureau got involved they were already 
home.  The file was sent down to the basement."

"The basement?"

"Where our office was, Mulder."

Mulder looked between Skinner and her.  "We were real 
popular, weren't we?"

Scully looked down, but he saw her lips quirk.  "Yes, real 
popular."

Mulder looked over at Skinner who rolled his eyes.  "Okay, 
keep going.  Why did we decide to go see a case that was 
over?"

"Partially because it involved children.  You, you have a 
weak spot . . . "

Mulder's brow furrowed but he didn't comment.  Finally he 
looked between the two again.  "So, what were we looking 
for?"

"Years ago, we had only been together about a year, we 
had a case in a small town in Wisconsin, uh, Delta Glen.  
We discovered that the children there had been treated 
with an unknown substance by their doctor.  It had been 
going on for years.  It was an experiment with a control 
group in the same town.  That was the first time.  Later we 
found another experimental group in South Carolina, 
children exposed to smallpox through a bee sting."

"A bee sting?" he questioned.

"Yes, they were experimenting with bees as the delivery 
system of an alien virus."

He opened his mouth to protest that, but she continued.  
"We know it worked and we know there was an alien virus.  
We know because I was stung, I got that virus and you 
saved me.  You tracked me to Antarctica and, and you 
saved me."

Mulder glanced over at Skinner who nodded slightly.

"Okay, I have a lot to remember.  Did we suspect these kids 
had something done to them?"

Scully nodded.  "You had a, a feeling that we should check 
into it."

"A feeling?  You were willing to go to Arkansas on my 
feeling?"

Scully looked over at Skinner as he chuckled.  Her lips 
quirked.  "Yes.  We've gone out on your 'feelings' lots of 
times.  It's why you're known as 'Spooky' Mulder.  You see 
things, connections before the rest of us do."

He huffed but didn't say anything else.

"We need to know why you were looking at that case," 
Skinner said.

"Did you know we were looking into it?" Mulder asked him.

Skinner shook his head.  "You hadn't approached me 
about it yet."

"So how did this alien bounty hunter know we were 
investigating these kids?"

"Good question.  Our offices could be bugged, or my 
apartment.  We have them checked regularly but they're 
bigger than we are," Scully said, the understatement 
sounding tired.

*****

"Mulder, wake up."  Her hand was cool against his face and 
without thought he reached for her.  He remembered in 
time and pulled back.  He watched her eyes close, but she 
stayed where she was.  

He rolled to his side and threw his arm over his eyes.  
"What do you want?"

"You had a bad dream."

He glanced over as he saw Skinner close the door to his 
room, then back at her.

"Sorry I disturbed you."

"Mulder - "

"Go on back to your room - "

"I can't sleep."

That stopped him for a moment.  "I'll try to be quieter."

"I was already . . . you didn't wake me."

He gave up then and sat up.  "You need your rest," he 
turned away from her wishing she would go ahead and 
leave already.  Instead she settled beside him on the 
couch, she was close, too close.  He shifted away and she 
moved with him.  "Red, go back to bed."

"It's . . . lonely in there."

"That was your decision.  Remember, we're not lovers," his 
voice was harsher than he meant it to be, but the words 
were out there now.

"We'd never made love, but we were lovers, Mulder."

He glanced down at her, startled.  "What?"

"I know you love me.  I've known for a long time; I realize 
that now."

He remained silent, not knowing what to say anyway.

She continued, "and I love you.  It's the only explanation 
for the things we've done together, the depth of - "

"Only explanation?  Don't get too romantic, Red."

Her blush sent a flood of regret through him, and without 
thinking his arm went around her.  She had stiffened but 
now relaxed back against him.  "You're right.  I'm sorry."

"Don't - "

"No, Mulder.  We've always been in opposite roles, since 
we met.  I'm the one with fear of commitment, fear of letting 
myself get involved with you."

"Why?"

"History.  I'm not very good with long term relationships."

"Skinner says we've been together - "

"Six years, almost seven.  And in that time we've been 
separated, forced to work with other partners.  We always 
find our way back to each other."

"Did I really find you in Antarctica?"

She nodded, her eyes moist.  "Yes and even after all this 
time I can't believe what you did to rescue me."

"Do you love me?"

She looked up at him, "I said - "

"You said it explained our 'relationship'.  Do you love me?"

She took a trembling breath.  "Yes."  It was soft but he 
heard the truth behind it.

He closed his eyes and drew her closer, resting his head 
on hers.  They sat that way for awhile, then Scully sat up.  
Reluctantly he released her.  "Come to bed?"

"In there?" he asked.

She nodded.  He rose and held out his hand.  She took it 
and they headed for the bedroom they shared.

*****


Without a Trace - (6/7)


He was awake and watching her when she stirred the next 
morning.  She looked up at him quietly.  "You were right, 
we were lovers."

"Mulder?"

"We need to get to Arkansas."

"You remember?"

"This morning, when I woke up with you in my arms."  

Her color rose but she didn't look away.  "What are we 
looking for?"

"I'm not sure.  But since they really don't want us looking, I 
want to find out.  Get dressed, I'll get Skinner."

"Mulder - "

He stopped and smiled at her.  "We are lovers.  I hope more 
than that."

They were in the car in less than an hour.  "Okay, can you 
tell me what you found out about these kids?"  Skinner 
asked.

"They were regular kids, younger than puberty and all were 
returned in exceptional health."

"Exceptional?"

"Well, one of the girls was diagnosed with juvenile onset 
diabetes before she was taken.  When she returned, she 
didn't have it."

"What?"  Skinner turned to look at Scully in the backseat for 
a second.

She nodded.

"Was she misdiagnosed?"

"Well, she took insulin shots for two years prior to her 
abduction," Scully offered.

"They didn't make that mistake again," Mulder said.  "As far 
as we could tell all of the other children were healthy when 
taken.  We were trying to find out if any of them had been 
taken again, had implants, that kind of thing.  Apparently 
they didn't want us checking into that."

Scully huffed from the back seat and Mulder turned to grin 
at her.

"So what are our plans?"  Skinner asked the two of them.

"Good question.  I don't want to blunder into anything 
again.  We were lucky, someone didn't do their job in 
getting rid of us," Mulder glanced back at Scully again.

"I don't know if you can trust the Bureau - " Skinner started.

"I don't," Mulder stated flatly.

"So, what?  The Geek Squad?"

Mulder grinned at the sound of Scully's chuckle.  "Yeah, I 
think that's the best place to start.  At least they can look 
into the records."

Skinner pulled into a service station that actually had a pay 
phone, something harder and harder to find.  Skinner 
handed Mulder a handful of change.  "You won't be able to 
talk long."

"No problem, I'll have them set something up," he said as 
he exited the car.  Scully took advantage of the 
convenience store.

"Yeah?"  A suspicious voice said when the phone was 
answered.

"Fro?  It's me," Mulder said quickly.

"Damn!  Where are you?  Are you okay?  Is she with you?"  
The questions shot out at him.

"Yes and yes, can't get into the first one yet."

"Is Chrome with you?"

That took Mulder a second.  "Yeah.  I need you to look into 
something for me."

"Go," Frohike obviously had his hands on a keyboard now.  
Mulder gave him the dates and location.  "What do you 
need?"

"Follow up, what's happened to the same people in the last 
2-3 years."

"How do we get this to you?"

"I'll call back in a couple of hours."

"What area code?"

"314."

"Okay, we'll be ready."  The connection was broken.  
Mulder looked down at his watch, less than 90 seconds.  
These guys were good.

He nodded to Skinner then headed inside himself to use 
the facilities and ensure that Scully picked up some good 
stuff to eat as well as her healthy choices.

Skinner hurried back to the car after his turn and they 
headed out with a full tank of gas.  "We've got to get some 
cash.  If I'm not going to use an ATM . . . "

"We'll ask the guys for it," Mulder reassured him, handing 
him a bottle of water.  "Oh, you have a new code name," he 
attempted to keep a straight face.  "Chrome."

Skinner shot him a look through narrowed eyes.  "Frohike, I 
bet."

Mulder nodded.

"The gnome will pay."

"What?" Scully said not following the conversation as she 
passed out lunch.

"As in dome," Mulder offered and she winced.

"Sir - " she began, but Skinner shook his head and she 
subsided.

*****

They pulled into a seedy motel on the outskirts of St. Louis 
after dark.  Skinner got two rooms with nearly the last of his 
cash.  He returned to them to find that Mulder had traded 
plates with the car next to theirs.

They all headed for the first room and Mulder looked over at 
the phone.  "Do we trust it?"

"Long distance will appear on our bills," Scully reminded 
them.

"Maybe the guys can fix that.  I don't think we've been 
followed," Mulder offered and shrugging picked up the 
phone.

He dialed the same number as before, but Langly 
answered this times.  Before he had a chance to say more 
than hello, Langly spoke.  "314-555-4080," and hung up.

"What?  What's wrong?" Scully had moved closer to 
Mulder.

"I think they've set up a local line."  He dialed that number 
and got Byers.

"Are you okay?" Byers said instead of hello.

"Yeah, not great but okay.  Is this line - "

"The safest available.  What do you need?"

"Some cash and that info I gave the gnome."

"The gnome?" Byers hesitated.

"Payback for Chrome."

At that Byers chuckled.  "Find the nearest Western Union 
and we'll get you some funds.  The guys have checked into 
that case.  We got twenty kids, right?"

"Right.  Were you able to do any follow-up?"

"Not that hard actually.  They all stayed in town.  Seventeen 
are still alive."

"Seventeen?  That's pretty high attrition."

"One suicide, one car wreck, one MIA."

"Suicide," Mulder mused a moment.  "Could the wreck have 
been suicide too?"

"Uh, yes.  Probably was.  One car, into a tree, dry road."

"No way to get hold of those autopsies if any were 
performed."

"What are you looking for?"

"Implants, DNA anomalies, I don't know."  Mulder looked 
over at Scully who shrugged.

"Okay, we're on it.  Have you found a Western Union?"

Skinner nodded and gave Mulder the address.

"We'll get you some cash as quick as we can."

"Use the North Carolina account."

"We can - "

"Do it.  We'll talk to you later."  Mulder broke the connection.

"North Carolina account?" Scully asked.

Mulder shrugged.  "I set up some accounts in dummy 
names and gave them access for just such occasions."

A hint of a smile showed on Skinner's face.  He sobered 
then.  "What do we do?"

"We need to talk to some of those kids, the remaining 
ones."

"Remaining?" Scully asked.

Mulder brought them up to date on what he knew about the 
three kids that were no longer around.

"MIA," Skinners mused.  "Wonder if there's a missing 
persons on it, if it even got to Bureau level."

"I'm betting no, but it's something to check.  Two suicides 
out of twenty is a hell of a percentage."

"Mulder, they're going to know us, whoever is watching 
them.  We can't just talk to these kids.  We can't flash a 
badge either.  For all we know the principal at the school is 
a bounty hunter.  One glimpse of us . . . "

"I know.  I'm hoping for Langly's help on that.  He had an 
idea that some of them might be gamers, maybe he can 
make contact, Facebook, anything where we can try to set 
up a meet."

"They're still kids, Mulder.  They can't leave town or - "

"Won't have to, we're the ones that need to keep low key.  
I'm hoping the guys can get into their school records or 
something.  I hope there'll be more than just cash from 
them when we pick things up."

They found the Western Union in Pelsor, Arkansas as well 
a small motor lodge.  It was the closest to Ben Hur without 
actually being there.  A small box was waiting for them and 
Walter hurried back to the motor lodge with it.

There was cash as well as a mini netbook and several 
thumb drives.  Mulder was checking the information 
quickly.  The place was too small for internet but the 
information they would have been looking up was there on 
the drives for them.

Langly had made contact with one of the boys, Gary 
Walker, and had arranged a meet.

*****

They'd only been behind the strip mall a few minutes when 
the boy rode up on his bike.  He stopped well back from the 
car and put one foot down on the ground.  He watched as 
Mulder got out of the passenger side of the car.

"You a friend of the Blonde Warrior?"  he asked quietly.

Mulder nodded.  "You Gary?"

"What do you want to talk to me about?" He didn't move 
any closer.

"We'd rather not talk out here."

"I'm not getting in your car."

Scully stepped out of the car then.  "Smart move.  Where 
would be a good place for us to have some privacy, but 
you'd feel safe?"

He hesitated and looked them both up and down, then he 
looked past them into the car.  "Who's he?"

Skinner stepped out of the car then and Gary visibly 
recoiled.  "You're military?"

"I told you it never wore off," Mulder said in a stage 
whisper.  Skinner glowered at him but Scully was the one 
that spoke.

"He's ex-military.  He works with us now."

"We'll understand if you want to contact the Blonde 
Warrior.  Ask about 'Chrome'," Mulder offered.

Skinner looked less than amused but didn't speak.

"Chrome?  He mentioned him; okay I get what he was 
saying now."

It was obvious that Mulder wanted to ask about that, but 
Scully cut him off.  "Is there some place we can talk?"

He hesitated just a second.  "Yeah, we can use the 
manager's office.  He won't be in until 11, 11:30.  I have the 
key," he shrugged.  "I've worked here a couple of years."

They followed him in.  He flipped on the light in the small 
office and held the door as they filed in.  There were only 
two chairs, so Skinner stood in the corner and Mulder took 
a seat on the small desk.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" Gary took the seat 
closest to the door.

Mulder leaned forward.  "We're not going to bullshit you.  
We know about your history, the abductions."

Gary tensed.  "I figured.  If you know that what else do you 
need?  We were all returned, they never found the guy.  If 
you're still lookin' for him - "

"We're not."

That stopped him for a moment.  "So, what do you want?"

"We want to know what you think about what happened."

"What?"

Scully looked over at Mulder, then took over.  "Can you tell 
us if what happened affected your lives?"

Gary blinked.  "You're kidding, right?"

"No, we'd really like to know."

The boy's eyes narrowed, then he turned to Mulder.  "You 
really want to know.  Okay, it changed everything.  
Nothing's been the same for any of us since it happened.  
No one cares, or wants to talk about it 'cause we're 'fine'."  
He sounded bitter beyond his years.  

"No one's asked you this before?"

"Hell, no.  They shut us up if we try to talk about it outside 
ourselves."

"Then talk to us," Mulder leaned forward.  "We want to hear 
everything you have to say.  How has this impacted your 
lives?"

"How hasn't it?  We're . . . connected, all of us, all the damn 
time."

"Connected?  How?"

"It's hard to explain.  We know each other too well."

"Example?"

"Okay, I go to the cafeteria and choose a chicken 
sandwich.  Then I walk to a table, I pass one or two or ten of 
us and every fucking one of us has a damn chicken 
sandwich.  I know things about everyone that I don't need 
to know.  It was kind of okay until we were in middle school.  
We guys didn't especially want to hang out with girls all the 
time, you know?  It's a little better now, we're past the girls 
are icky stage, but there's stuff I just don't want to know 
about girls, you know?"

"Yeah, I know - " Mulder started but Scully interrupted.

"What kind of things?"

Gary looked at Mulder, but the man shrugged.  "Well," he 
looked back at Mulder for a moment.  "They, uh, they all 
started their periods within a couple of days of each other.  
And that first time they had killer cramps, but since then 
they've had no, uh, problems."

"How about the rest of your health?"

"We're never sick.  Even a couple of years ago when 
everyone got the flu, none of us did or missed any days of 
school.  It's been that way all along."

Mulder leaned forward again.  "Two of you have committed 
suicide and one's missing."

"Yeah, well, we've all thought about it.  Eventually we 
might all do it."

"Why?"

"Well, Lyle did it because he knew he was gay and that's 
not exactly okay around here.  I don't know if you realize it, 
but there were twenty of us, ten girls, ten boys.  We're 
supposed to mate up.  He knew . . . "

"Mate up?  You mean - "

"Yeah, we're like the fucking Midwich kids.  You ever see 
that movie?  At least we don't look like that."

"Did you know he was going to drive into that tree?"

Gary shook his head.  "No, we can't tell the future or 
anything.  I don't think Lyle knew until he actually rounded 
that bend and it was just right there in front of him.  Leia, 
she's his, uh, partner, I heard she screamed and passed 
out.  Her parents didn't know what the hell was going on.  
But we all knew, instantly."

The three adults exchanged looks.  "What about the other 
one?"

"Jane?  She, well she found out that her father was 
boinking one of the teachers at the high school.  Once she 
knew it of course the rest of us did and she was humiliated.  
She was the first one that did it, we all knew she was upset 
but we were kids, we didn't . . . "

Mulder waited a beat, then, "There's a boy missing."

"Yeah, Hank."

"Is he dead?"

"No, he wanted to see if distance could help.  None of us 
have ever been able to get away, you know?"

"So he's away, is it helping?"

"Not really.  I'm pretty sure he's eating chicken sandwiches 
on Tuesdays just like the rest of us.  He'll be back."

"Is anyone okay with this?"

"Sure, Becky.  She doesn't have to take those shots 
anymore.  I think the girls handle it better than we do.  They 
already like to hang out together; you know how girls 
always go to the bathroom together and stuff.  They all talk 
to each other all the time and might even if they weren't 
connected.  But . . . Hell, I don't want to know what they're 
thinking, feeling and I sure as hell don't want them to know 
what I'm thinking!"

"Who is your partner?" Mulder asked, though he looked 
over at Scully at the word.

"Abby," Gary said without hesitation.  "And yeah, I'm 
attracted to her, kinda.  She has a great ass, uh, sorry.  She 
looks like a damn cheerleader.  She should have all these 
jocks drooling over her but they're . . . they're afraid of her, 
of all of us, you know? But normally she wouldn't be 
attracted to a geek like me.  I mean, can you see me pulling 
up to her house on that bike and taking her out?  She's just 
not the type to want to go out with the guy with the part-time 
job at the arcade."

They had nothing to say to that, so there was silence for a 
moment.  "Would you allow my partner to examine you?  
She's a doctor."

"Examine me?  I don't know . . . "

"Just right here, with us watching.  Let her look you over a 
little.  Do you mind?"

"I, I guess not."

Scully smiled at him and rose from her chair.  She 
immediately ran her fingers over the back of his neck, 
checking for an implant.  She looked up at Mulder and 
shook her head, then continued, checking behind his ears 
as with Max.  She checked his joints, traced his muscles, 
even, with his permission, palpated his abdomen.  She 
found nothing.  "You have beautiful skin," she remarked as 
she took her seat again.

"Uh, oh, thanks.  Yeah, none of us broke out, you know, 
like everyone else.  Finally one good thing," he grinned 
feebly.

"Gary," Mulder glanced over at Skinner.  "Do the others 
know we're talking?"

"No, they know I'm here.  That's why I picked it, I'm always 
here, and I had an idea what you wanted.  They probably 
know I'm thinking about Lyle and Jane, but that's not 
unusual.  We all think about them a lot."

"No one ever asks you about this stuff?  There's no doctor 
that comes to town annually or - "

"No, there's one guy, real creepy dude that comes 
sometimes.  It's not annually or anything, but I've seen him 
a few times.  He's old and he smokes like a stack.  I mean 
really, I've never seen him without a cigarette going.  He 
comes to town, hangs around for a day or two, then leaves.  
He doesn't talk to us, or get too close even.  I'm not even 
sure why I noticed him, but we all did."

Mulder and Scully looked at each other silently, then 
Mulder glanced over at Skinner who nodded.

"We know him.  He's a dangerous man and you need to 
stay as far away from him as possible.  If he comes back, 
make sure none of you are ever alone.  Buddy up as much 
as possible, not just within the group, make sure you're 
with other people involved or not.  I'm pretty sure right now 
he's just observing, the more disinformation he has the 
better."

Gary grinned at that.  He looked between Mulder and 
Scully again.  "Are you two like us?"

"What?" Scully asked, blinking.

"The two of you, are you . . . " his voice trailed off as the two 
of them stared at each other silently.

"Listen, don't freak out," Skinner stepped forward, looking 
at his agents.  "You two have been like this for years, long 
before you were taken this time."  Scully seemed to pale a 
little.  "Come on, when's the last time he didn't know exactly 
where you were located in a room and let's face it the 
kindest word for him when you've been missing is 'crazed'."

"Are you trying to help?" Mulder asked dryly.  "How are 
your grades?" He turned back to Gary.

"Uh, good."

"All of you?"

"Yeah, we're pretty much the head of our classes."

"What about your memories?" Scully asked softly.

"Perfect," he responded.  "We don't talk about that much."

"Don't blame you," Mulder muttered.  "Look, we need to get 
out of here before your boss shows up.  Would you be 
willing to stay in touch with us, to let us know what's going 
on with you?"

"Would you be willing to let me know how to get out of 
this?" Gary responded.

"We're willing to share what we learn, but I don't know if 
we're going to be any help.  Do you think the others would 
want to talk to us?  We have to be damn discrete, they're 
watching us."

"They?  The ones that took us?"

Mulder looked over at Scully, then at Skinner.  They both 
seemed to shrug.  "Yeah.  We, I have a theory about that."

"So tell me this theory."

Mulder looked over at Scully, but she wouldn't meet his 
eyes.  He sighed but turned back to boy.  "You were all 
abducted by aliens, enhanced and returned.  Now they 
want to know if the enhancements will continue to another 
generation."  Scully was wincing, but Gary's fist was in the 
air.

"Score!  That's what I told the guys years ago, back when 
we were kids.  Well, not about the next generation, but the 
aliens.  I knew it!"

Mulder was grinning now, and carefully not looking at 
either of his companions.  "Can you reach Hank?"

"No, I told you, he wanted space, wanted to be away from 
us.  He's not exactly calling home."

"Could you try?"

"I wouldn't know where to start."

"I have a suggestion."

Gary looked at him for a long moment.  "I thought you 
would.  Okay, go."

"Think at him."

"What?"

"Think at him.  Send him a message mentally.  'Hank, it's 
Gary.  I need to talk to you.' Simple, to the point."

"Telepathy," Gary said softly, Mulder nodded.  "Cool.  Okay, 
what happens if it works?"

"Have him contact the Warrior.  You don't want to let 
anyone who might be monitoring you know that you're in 
touch.  We'll set up a blind email, have him contact it.  Gary, 
this has to be covert for your sake as well as ours.  Do you 
understand that?  It's critical."

Gary sobered then.  "This really could be dangerous, 
couldn't it?"

"Yes, very.  It's not the kind of thing where you can think 
about taking precautions and then decide it's no big deal.  
There probably wouldn't be a second chance."

Sober, Gary nodded.

"We need to get going," Skinner urged again.

Mulder nodded and headed for the door.  "Hey, just for my 
benefit, who were we, if he's Chrome?"

"Oh, uh, Moose and Squirrel."

Skinner couldn't quite hold in the laugh, though he tried to 
turn it into a cough.  Mulder glared at him and Scully shut 
her eyes, shaking her head.  "I'm going to cut that ponytail 
off and strangle him with it," she muttered too low for Gary 
to hear but Mulder gave a short laugh.

"Blonde Warrior, huh?  He and I need to talk," Mulder 
whispered to her.


Without a Trace - (7/7)

 
They hurried back to the car and pulled away.  No one 
seemed to have observed them and no one followed.  They 
returned to their post in Pelsor.  They gathered in the room 
Skinner had gotten for them and took seats, Scully on the 
edge of the bed, Skinner in the one chair and Mulder 
sprawled on the bed beside her.
 
"How many of these little experiments are out there?"  
Skinner demanded.  "Did I hear you say this was the third 
one you've found?"
 
Mulder nodded.  "I don't want to put them in danger.  The 
first group was okay, but when the experiment was shut 
down they all got some kind of flu.  It could have been 
much worse. "
 
"Children died in South Carolina," Scully said.  "They're 
only lab rats to these beings."
 
"So what if we get the lab rats to revolt?" Mulder mused.
 
"They're children, Mulder!  Not even out of high school.
 
"So they'll need some help, some guidance - "
 
"From you?"
 
He drew back stung.  "Why not me?  You know anyone 
else with more experience?"
 
She sagged, her shoulders slumping.  She'd hurt him now 
and that was never her intent.  "That's not what I meant.  I'm 
sorry.  This is dangerous and they're not even 18 years old.  
They're parents - "
 
"Their parents aren't doing anything for them, if they won't 
even talk about it," Mulder snapped, then saw Scully's 
expression.  "I'm sorry.  Residuals of what I went through."
 
Her hand caressed his arm.  "I do know that you have the 
most experience and that you really want to help them.  
We'll think of something."
 
*****

Gary wasn't even surprised when an email popped up from 
Hank in less than an hour.

"Dude," he wrote back quickly, "I need you to go to our 
second favorite game, contact the player with the third 
highest score today.  Tell him you're a friend of mine and 
that you need to talk to Chrome and his friends.  They 
understand about us, you need to talk to them."

There was only minimal hesitation; Hank had obviously 
picked up the urgency.  His only reply was "K".

Mulder had begun to pace in the enclosed space and 
Scully was attempting to ignore him when the prepaid cell 
lying on the TV rang.  Mulder reached it in one stride.   
"Yeah?"

"He'll be calling in a minute.  I have a city, five and half 
hours from your location.  You set up a meet, without 
directions."  Langly hung up before Mulder could respond.

"Hank's gonna be calling us.  The guys are on ultimate 
paranoia."

"Good, they're got reason to be," Scully said, rising from the 
bed.  "I'll get Skinner."

"No, I don't want you outside."  He started for the door.

"You're more high profile than I am," she countered, 
touching his arm.

"You're the beautiful redhead that everyone looks at.  They 
can't help themselves.  You're more memorable."

She looked at him utterly stunned.  "Thank you, but that's 
not true."

"Scully - "

"Mulder, I've been watching you for years.  If you don't 
realize how women, and men, stare at you, you're not the 
agent I thought you were."

He stopped then and looked at her.  "At me?"

She actually laughed.  "Another reason to love you, 
Mulder."  She shook her head.  "Tap on the wall, that way 
neither of us will be seen."

He was still looking at her, obviously trying to figure out if 
she was pulling his leg, but he took her advice and tapped 
on the wall.  In moments, Skinner was at the door and 
Scully opened it quickly, letting him in.

"Any news?" he asked at once.

"We should be hearing from Hank any - " as if on cue, the 
cell phone rang and Mulder answered it.

"Hello?"

"Yeah, uh, hi.  Are you friends of the Blonde Warrior?"

Mulder grimaced, but responded.  "This is Moose.  We're 
very anxious to talk to you.  May we come to your location?"

"Uh, sure.  He, uh, he said you knew - "

"We do.  We just need a location to meet you, generic but 
easy to find."

"Okay, how about the public library, downtown."

"That's perfect. We can be there by uh, one tomorrow."  
Mulder glanced at Skinner who nodded.

"Okay, I'll be on the second floor in the stacks.  How will I - 
?"

"We'll know you.  Don't worry about that.  We'll see you 
then."

The boy broke the connection and Mulder looked over at 
his companions.  "Public library, downtown, second floor.  
Now all we need is a city."

Skinner shook his head as the phone gave the short beep 
of a text.  Mulder looked down and laughed.  "We're 
heading back to St. Louis.  You sure you don't have 
psychic abilities, sir?"

The large man huffed at him and turned to Scully.  "I'll go 
pick up some dinner.  What would you like?"

*****

They set out early the next morning.  They wanted to get to 
the library early enough to scout around a little before one.

Skinner had no problem finding the library and was 
pleased to find a parking garage next door with access to 
the library on the third floor.  They entered separately and 
wandered around, checking for cameras.  A few minutes 
before one, they all headed for the second floor where 
Skinner picked up a newspaper from the rack and took a 
seat to read it.  Mulder headed into the stacks, where he 
could watch Scully, but not be seen and Scully stayed near 
the elevators, looking at titles on the nearest shelf.

At one a young man, stepped off the elevator and stopped 
to look around.  Scully took a deep breath and approached 
him.  "Hank?" she asked in a library voice.

"Uh, yeah.  Squirrel?"

She bit her lip, but nodded.  "There are cameras; could you 
pretend to show me where something is in the third row of 
books?"

Without a word, he gestured in that area, then led her into 
the stacks.  Once out of sight of the cameras, Mulder joined 
them.

"You must be Moose," Hank said looking slightly up at the 
man.  Before Mulder could respond, Hank stiffened, then 
forced himself to relax as Skinner came around the back 
corner.  "Chrome.  Gary warned me you looked military."

"That doesn't necessarily make me a bad guy, you know," 
Skinner said, the irony heavy in his voice.

"No, I guess it doesn't.  Gary said you wanted to talk to me."

"Not here, too many cameras and we can't be seen 
together.  We're parked in the garage next door.  Would you 
go for a ride with us?"

Hank blinked and Scully looked up at him.  "I know that 
sounds negative, but it's to try to keep us all safe.  Have 
you had lunch?"

Hank shook his head.  "Okay, let's get some drive through 
and find a park or someplace outside to eat," Skinner 
offered.

"I don't have a lot of money - " Hank started.

"No problem.  My treat.  We're parked on the third floor of 
the garage, over near the bank building, a navy sedan."

Hank looked at each of them again, his gaze lasting 
longest on Scully.  Then he took a deep breath.  "Yeah, 
okay, but I need to go out the front.  The ladies will be 
watching for me and I need to speak to them before I leave.  
I'll walk up and meet you there."

Mulder started to speak, but Scully interrupted.  "That's a 
good idea.  Please, don't mention us."

"No, I won't.  See you in a few minutes."  With that he 
headed for the stairs and disappeared.

"We need to get back to the car.  Sir, why don't you go on."  
It wasn't a question, and Skinner nodded, moving back 
toward the elevator.

Once they were alone, Mulder took her hand.  "You believe 
he'll come with us?"

"Yes.  He's curious and Gary vouched for us."

"And he wouldn't mind looking at you for while longer."

She chuckled.  "I think I'll be safe enough."

"He liked what he saw," Mulder commented.

"I'm not the cougar type, thank you.  Come on."  She 
headed for the elevator herself, while Mulder took the stairs 
up to the parking level.  He waited until the doors opened 
and he saw her emerge before he stepped out into the 
garage.  Skinner was already in the car and Mulder saw 
Hank stepped out on the stairwell and head toward that 
end of the garage.

Without a word, Hank climbed into the backseat, and Scully 
joined him before Mulder could protest.  He took the front 
passenger's seat and they pulled out.

"We need you to get down and let me cover you, so the 
parking attendant won't see that you're with us," Scully said 
softly.

"You really did meet Gary?"

"Yes.  We sat in the office of the arcade.  There were only 
two chairs and he talked to us about knowing too much 
about the girls."

"Okay."  He slid down into the floor space and Scully 
tossed her jacket over him.  They were out in the street in 
minutes and after a block or so, he returned to the seat.  

"Let's get that lunch," Scully said.  "I'm hungry."

Skinner found a McDonald's and at a look from Mulder, 
doubled Hank's order to two Quarter Pounders and fries.  
"You can eat them both now, or save one for later."

Hank and Mulder exchanged looks and Hank nodded.  
"Thanks."

Skinner drove to a large park Hank mentioned and they 
took their food to a shaded area.  After making short work of 
the first burger and unwrapping the second, Hank looked 
over at Mulder.  "This is good."

Scully smiled.  "How have you been eating?"

"Well, I'm getting by."

"Really?"

He took a big of the second burger and grinned.  "It was 
really rough at first, then the ladies at the library kind of 
adopted me."

"Adopted?" Mulder asked.

"Yeah.  I didn't have a lot of money, guess I didn't really 
understand things when I took off.  I found a flop to sleep 
in, I'm the only customer who doesn't pay by the hour," he 
grinned ruefully, "The guy gave me a good deal, supplies 
the linens, but I have to put them on.  It's the smallest room, 
but I'm not there much.  I started hanging out at the library, 
at first to use the computer and look for a job, but the ladies 
started getting suspicious because I wasn't in school.  I 
asked them for help, saying I was working on my GED and 
they started looking after me.  At first one or the other would 
bring 'extra' for lunch and offer it to me.  That really came in 
handy, then one of them mentioned that her son was in a 
growth spurt and had outgrown a bunch of his stuff, could I 
use it?"  He finished the burger and took some fries.

"That may have been true.  I mean the stuff wasn't new, but 
it sure wasn't used up either.  Then I got a job washing 
dishes at this diner and things have been better.  I get to 
eat there for one meal on the days I work, and Billy pays me 
under the table, so no problem with a social security 
number or anything.  I'm not getting rich," he shrugged, 
"but I'm getting by."

"Is it that important to be away from the others?"

"It's not them.  The guys are okay, I just didn't like what 
whoever it was did to us."

"Can you tell us about that?  How are you different now?"

Hank met Mulder's eyes and some sort of understanding 
seemed to pass between them.  "They changed us.  Maybe 
they made us better in some ways, I mean all of our grades 
improved."

"And your memories?" Skinner asked.

"Yeah, Gary mention that?"

"No," Mulder said.  "We asked it though, and he answered."

Hank nodded.  "We're healthy.  Becky really liked that, but, 
but we're different.  We don't fit in with the others anymore.  
Guys that I've known all my life barely have anything to do 
with me anymore.  It's just this group of kids, the twenty of 
us, that . . . "

"Aren't afraid of you?" Mulder offered.

"Yeah."  Hank took some more fries and a long sip of his 
drink.

"Do you know who I mean when I say 'the smoking man'?"

"Sure, the scary dude that would come check on us 
occasionally," Hank said.

"Have you seen him since you got here?" Mulder asked.

Hank stopped then and looked at him, really looked for a 
long moment.  "No," he said carefully.  "I haven't seen him, 
but I've thought he was here."

"Thought?" Mulder asked.

Hank shrugged.  "I don't know, just a feeling of being 
watched somehow and he's the person I thought of when I 
felt it.  Maybe I smelled him or someone else with 
cigarettes, but . . . "

"Would you let Sc-Squirrel here examine you a little?"

"Examine me?"

"Yeah, just look you over a little."

"She some sort of doctor?"

"Matter of fact."

"Oh, well, here?"

"Yes," Scully said.  "We don't want you to feel 
uncomfortable and I'm not going to do anything that would 
look suspicious to anyone watching."

He shifted in his seat, but finally nodded.

Skinner and Mulder discreetly kept an eye out while Scully 
checked his neck and ears for implants or small scars.  "I 
can't find anything."

Mulder nodded.  "You ever have any problem going 
through a metal detector?"

Hank looked startled at that.  "Yeah.  Once, but . . . how did 
you know?"

"Where were you?" Mulder asked, ignoring his question.

"The airport.  My parents took me on a short vacation when 
I was returned.  They were relieved to see me then and took 
me to visit my grandparents.  That was before . . . "

"Are your parents uncomfortable around you?" Scully 
asked softly.

"You could say that.  Dad took off a few months later.  It 
really freaked him out about the memory thing and the fact 
that my grades were so much better.  Mom, stayed but she 
kept her distance from me and we sure didn't talk about it.  
I'm sure she's relieved I took off."

"Hank - "

"It's okay.  I have 'family' with the guys and I'm not the only 
one whose parents got freaked, you know?"

"Are you ever planning to go back?" Scully asked.

"I don't know.  I guess I will eventually.  Debbie needs me."

"Debbie?  Is she your partner?"

"Yeah.  Gary explain that to you?"

"As best he could," Mulder admitted.  "Back to the metal 
detector, did they run a wane over you?"

"Yeah."

"Where did it react?"

"Here," his hand rested mid-chest, slightly to the right of his 
heart.  

"May I look?" Scully asked and he nodded, pulling up, then 
taking off his t-shirt after looking around.

After a moment Scully shook her head.  "I don't see or feel 
anything.  As young as he was, and as healthy now, a scar 
might not have formed."

"Look, I've got an idea I'd like to try out.  Will you trust us a 
little bit further?"

Scully and Skinner looked at him and Hank pulled his t-
shirt back on as Mulder explained his plan.

*****

Scully returned to the car as the three men anxiously 
watched the sidewalks.  Even Hank had been caught up in 
the paranoia and had asked lots of questions while she 
was inside. 

"I got them," she said as Skinner pulled away from the 
curb.  She reached into the bag.

"Not yet.  Head toward the airport," he said to Skinner.

"Are you planning to test it?"

"Not exactly, let me think."  He went silent then and Hank 
asked his questions of Scully then, while Skinner drove.

When they pulled into the airport area for unloading, 
Mulder turned back to Hank.  "Okay, what I want you to do, 
is stand near the counter for a minute or two, like you're 
waiting for someone, then walk over to where you'd enter 
the security check.  Look around again and maybe pretend 
to spot someone, wave, whatever.  Then slip this over your 
head."  He handed him one of the pendants Scully had 
purchased at the gem shop.  Pure magnetite.  "It'll hit you at 
the right level, just above where you remember the detector 
going off.  One thing, we won't know if you can still be 
monitored, if you're even being monitored, but if this does 
disrupt it, you can't take it off, ever.  They'll be watching if 
you vanish, that's why we're here.  Let them think you did 
this just as you boarded a plane, they can't know which 
one, or that you didn't go anywhere.  Do you understand?"

"Yeah, but if there is something in there, couldn't I just 
have it removed?"

"No!" Mulder and Scully spoke together and Hank blinked.

"We can't be sure, but after all this time, it's a part of you.  It 
could be very dangerous to have it removed.  We, we have 
a little experience with that," Mulder said quietly, looking 
over at Scully.

"Okay.  I get what you want me to do.  It makes sense.  Are 
you going to wait here or come inside?"

"Here, we need to stay as far away from cameras as we can 
right now."

Hank took the pendant and shoved it into his jeans pocket.  
"Okay, I'll be back soon."  He let himself out of the back 
seat and headed for the door.  

Skinner started up the engine and moved the car, as 
though they were leaving.  He'd circle back and park near 
luggage pickup as they'd discussed.



Mulder spotted him through the glass as he stepped off the 
escalator on the lower level.  "Here, put these on."

"Mulder, I've never been taken, I - "

"You're walking the halls of the FBI.  You might as well be 
careful."

With a sigh, Skinner slipped the chain over his head as 
Mulder did the same.  Scully's was already resting beside 
her cross around her neck.  Hank casually looked around, 
seemed to see someone he recognized and waved, then 
moved in that direction.

"The kid could be an actor," Skinner observed.

"Too high profile," Mulder muttered and Scully smiled.

He exited the airport with a crowd, nodding as though 
listening to a conversation and then broke off, heading to 
their car.  He got in and smiled at them.  "Now what?"

"Good question.  You know, it might be a good idea to alert 
those ladies that Cancerman might come.  They wouldn't 
turn you into child services?"

"They think I'm 18 and just gotten out of a bad situation.  No 
details and the fact that I got my GED with their help, added 
to the trust.  They were so proud of me they gave me a party 
when I passed.  Cake and everything," he smiled at the 
memory.

"Do you have an ID?"

"Nope, they call me Hank, but they think my last name is 
Snow.  I got it out of the phone book.  Don't need an ID at 
work and I don't think anyone needs one at the place I 
stay."

"Okay, I think we can help you out with that.  What would 
you like your birthday to be?"

*****

They had dropped Hank off at the diner where he worked, 
with plans to meet him the next morning. 

Skinner found a chain motel and got them a couple of 
rooms.  Mulder got in touch with the guys to get them 
started on the Hank Snow ID, then they sat around the 
small table, eating the dinner they had picked up.

They were quiet, each thinking their own thoughts until 
they were finished.  Scully rose and started to clean up, but 
Mulder took her hand.  Quietly she resumed her seat.  
Mulder looked over at Skinner.  "You know we can't come 
back."

Skinner looked at him, then at Scully.  "Yeah.  What are 
you going to do?"

"You need to get back.  You can explain your absence as 
coming to get us.  There's evidence of that, but you 
discovered our memories were completely gone, there are 
witnesses for that as well and we didn't trust you.  As soon 
as we could, we ran.  You looked for us, but we went off 
the grid."

Again Skinner's eyes went to Scully.  "Are you okay with 
that?"

"I have to be.  If you can let Mom know that I'm okay, just . . . 
"

"We can set up something where we can be in touch, 
through the guys or something.  But we need to stay 
disappeared," Mulder said.

"How long will that account in North Carolina last?"

"A while," Mulder responded, not mentioning the ones in 
Iowa or Oregon or London.  "The guys are getting IDs for us 
too, several of them - "

"That's real expensive if they're any good," Skinner broke 
in.

"These will be the best, but don't worry about that.  We 
know about these three groups of kids.  We all know there 
are more.  I think Hank would like to help us with this.  Who 
better, than one from inside?"

"I feel like I'm abandoning you," Skinner sighed.

"You're not.  You're going to be our inside man.  And you're 
one of very few people that know what we're doing, so 
that's a safety net for us."

"Scully?" Skinner looked at her once more.

"We need to vanish without a trace, Sir.  It's what 'they' 
wanted in the first place.  Someone helped us out," she 
touched her cross and the small piece of magnetite below 
it.  "We need to take advantage of that."

"You believe."

She took Mulder's hand, then nodded.