Chapter Five

Outside Rapid City
Thursday
10:00 a.m.

     Chris was driving along the interstate when he remembered the
men from that morning.

      "By the way, do you happen to know anything about military
interest in weather?"

     "Huh?  Why ask me?"

     "You work for the National Weather Service or something like
that, don't you?"

     "Well, more precisely, I work with them, rather than for them.
And no, I have no idea why the military would be interested.  Why do
you ask?"  Candy remembered Mulder talking about his problems finding
his sister and how the government was blocking him at every turn.

     "Oh, I met some men this morning who said they were with the
National Weather Service or something, but I overheard them
addressing one man as "sir". They even slipped once and called him
Colonel. Now, unless the NWS has gotten a lot more formal, they
obviously were not who they said they were.  And this one guy I
talked to was really evasive."

     "Well, that's interesting.  You know, you may want to re-think
that alien angle."

     "Yeah. Right,"  he muttered under his breath.

     "I heard that!"  She giggled, reducing the tension between the
two of them.  She was starting to think of him on more friendly terms.
Chris turned to her and gave her a big smile.

     Fifteen minutes later, Chris and Candy pulled into the parking
ramp and took the elevator to the Red Cross office.

     "I'm here to see the director."  He said the receptionist.

     "Do you have an appointment?"

     "No.  Do I need one?"

     "Look.  Everyone needs an appointment."  She acted like a
mother cat protecting her kittens.

     "Who do I see about getting one?"  His tone was just as
sarcastic as the receptionist's.

     "You see me.  Who are you?"

     "I'm Chris Myers.  I work out of the Chicago office. I need to
see the Director as soon as possible."

     "Ah-huh."  She had heard this before.  "Well, he's pretty busy
this morning.  How about sometime this afternoon?"

     "What time?"

     "Say around, oh 12:45?"  She could've made it earlier, but she
didn't like this guy's attitude.  She didn't have much power, but she
used what she had.

     "Yeah, alright.  That will be fine."

     "Don't be late."

     "I won't.  Oh, one more thing?"

     "Yes."

     "I need supplies.  I'm running Red Cross stations in Hayes and
Cherry Creek.  Plus, I need volunteers if you have them, for the other
areas that were hit."

     "Hit with what?"

     "The storms!  Don't you watch the news?"

     "Yeah.  Okay, come back and I'll have the supplies for you,
but as for volunteers, well...you know how it is."  She gave a
sympathetic shrug.

     "Okay - 12:45."  He turned and escorted Candy out. "We have
some time to kill.  What do you want to do?"

     "Well, I'd love to change.  I just threw some clothes on this
morning, and the hotel isn't too far from here."

     "Yeah sure, fine, whatever."

     When they got back to the hotel room, the maids had already
been and gone.

     "I'm going to take a shower, why don't you watch tv or something."

     "Sure."  She went over to her suitcase and started rummaging
for her toiletries.  "What's this?"  She picked up the map from the
bed and handed it to Chris.

     "What's what?"  He took the map from her, the red circles
marked around the disaster areas bringing back all the painful
memories of the past several days.

     "What's wrong?"

     "Oh, nothing.  I was just thinking about Cherry Creek, that's
all."  He sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, still fingering
the map.  Candy crawled behind him and started massaging his
shoulders. "You don't have to..."

     "Sshhh...Relax.  I understand."  She could feel the knots in
his shoulder blades.

     In the short time they spent together, they felt they had
known each other for years and were beginning to regret they hadn't
met earlier.

     Candy slowly bent down and kissed the back of his neck.  He
could feel himself harden. She pulled him down on the bed and covered
his lips with hers.  He returned her kiss deeply, passionately, as his
hands caressed her body.

     He pulled off the t-shirt she was wearing and slowly
unfastened the back of her bra and removed it.  In a sudden move, he
flipped them both over so she looked up at him with a mixture of
amusement and arousal.  He slowly bent down and kissed her hardened
nipples, then undid her jeans and slid them off her legs.

     Enjoying the care which he was taking, she pulled off his
sweatshirt and thermal undershirt.  Undid the top of his jeans.

     He moved again to kiss her deeply, and she moaned in response.
"Oh, Mulder!"

     Chris stopped and looked down at her.

     She looked puzzled.  "What?  Why did you stop?"

     "You said Mulder."

     "I did not."

     "Yes, you did."

     "Well, I didn't mean to."

     "I'll be downstairs in the restaurant."  He got off the bed
and reached for his clothes discarded only moments before.  "If you
want to come with me to Cherry Creek, like we discussed, meet me
downstairs at noon.  We'll go to headquarters first, then leave."  He
grabbed his coat and stalked out, making a mental note to talk to this
Agent Mulder and find out his secret to getting women to cry out his
name in moments of passion.



Rapid City
Thursday
12:45 p.m.


     The receptionist's attitude was better when Chris arrived.

     "I have a 12:45 appointment with the director."

     "Yes, of course, Mr. Myers.  Please follow me."

     "Uh, Candy.  Why don't you take charge of the supplies?  The
sooner we get back, the better."

     "Sure."  She was being very careful what she said to him,
though she really couldn't see what his problem was.  He's probably
tired, she thought to herself.

     The receptionist came back.  "Follow me."  She took Candy down
the back service elevator toward the loading docks.  "These four
containers are yours.  I'll get the guys to load them for you."  She
went over and talk to someone who looked like the foreman.

     "You want these moved?"  Sometimes dealing with stupid people
was such a trial.

     "Yeah.  My jeep is over there, the green one.  The back should
be unlocked."

     "Sure thing, honey."  He leered, then finally turned to load
the supplies.

     "And don't call me honey," she muttered through clenched
teeth.

     An hour later, Chris came out of the meeting a little more
hopeful than he went in.  The director had promised to lobby
Washington to help out the indigenous population of the towns that
were hit.  He also promised to get the governor to get the towns
declared disaster areas, so the people could rebuild with low-cost
loans.

     "Where's the lady I was with?"

     "She's down at the loading dock."

     "Thanks."

     He walked down the hallway toward the main elevator, and
waited patiently.  Just as the door opened, he heard the receptionist
yell down to him.

     "Mr. Myers!  Mr. Myers!  It's Hayes on the line - they need to
talk to you." She was calling from the doorway of the office.

     Chris quickly jumped back off the elevator before it closed
and ran down the hallway.

     "No.  Use the guest phone."  She pointed to the phone in the
waiting area.

     "This is Myers.... I see....  Okay.  Put together a team there
just in case."  He quickly hung the phone up and started for the door.

     "Is there anything we can do?"

     Chris looked serious.  "That was one of the volunteers in
Hayes.  There's been riots over the few supplies we have out there.
Everyone is afraid there'll be another storm and people are starting
to panic.  I'll get these supplies delivered.  Is there any way to get
some volunteers there as soon as you can?"

     "I'll see what I can do."  She gave him a smile.  A total
change from the woman earlier.  Chris was beginning to wonder if there
was something to that alien theory after all.

     He found Candy in the jeep looking over the map they had brought
from the hotel room.

     "The situation in Hayes is deteriorating.  We're going out
there."  He reached in the glove compartment, pulled out a cellular
phone and plugged it into the cigarette lighter.  "You happen to know
Mulder's cell number?"

     "Yes, why do you ask?"

     "Give lover boy a call and tell him there's a problem, and ask
if he could spare Dr. Scully."

     "For all we know they may have left the area already."  Just
the mention of Scully's name was enough to change Candy's mood from
one of excitement and expectation to something darker.

     "It didn't look as though they had packed when we were at the
hotel."

     "How would you know, you didn't really stay that long."

     "Are you going to call or what?"  He started the jeep and
peeled out of the loading area.

     She tried both Mulder's and Scully's number but got no answer.
"They aren't answering."  She frowned at the sudden thought of them
wrapped in each other's arms somewhere.

     "Do you have any idea where they might be heading?"

     "Um, yeah, I found a note they left.  Said they were going to
check out Ellsworth AFB."

     "Why?"  Chris was confused as to their destination.

     "What, I have information tattoed on my forehead?  Mulder
didn't exactly write me a novel."  Chris wondered why they would go
there, and what the connection could be.

     "Well, make yourself somewhat useful and find out the fastest
way to Hayes. We'lll drop off the supplies and see what we can do out
there to help."

     "Look, I don't have to take this attitude from you."

     "I'm sorry, but I don't have time.  People's lives are at
stake.  The sooner we get the supplies to where they're needed, the
more lives we can save,"  he replied gravely.

     "Okay, take 90 West and...."

     "And what?"  He glanced over to her and she was staring at the
map.  "What 90 west and what?"

     "Take 90 West and then Rt 212 east."

     "We go west and then east?  Why don't we just go 90 east."

     "Who's navigating here?  You either go east and then north, in
which case we would have to take back roads and God knows what else.
This way you stay on the interstates and paved roads, which will be
much quicker."

     "But...."

     "But WHAT!"  It wasn't a question.  Chris grunted and accepted
her directions.  Giving in was easier and probably less time
consuming.  Candy turned back to the map.  "Oh, by the way, did you
notice how these red dots form an arch?"

     "Just out of curiosity, where's Ellsworth?"

     "Not in the direction we are heading."

     "I didn't ask that, I asked where Ellsworth was?"  She put her
finger on Ellsworth and then realized the connection.

     "Are you aware that all these town are pretty much equidistant
from the base?  I wonder.."

     "Wonder what?"

     "I wonder - maybe the government is doing secret experiments
trying to control violent weather as a destructive force based on
alien technology."

     "You have got to be joking.  What will you think up next?"

                        - - - - -

Ellsworth AFB
Thursday
2:15 p.m.


     Mulder didn't have clear sense of where they were taking him,
but suspected it was one of the unmarked base buildings he had seen on
the map.  Behind him, he could hear Scully struggling with her captors
as they dragged her to another door.

     "Mulder!"

     "Scully!  I'll get us out of this!"

     The MP's stopped Mulder short of the doorway into the
building.  Standing in the pathway was someone who looked like he
thought he was important.  "Ah, Agent Mulder.  I hope you don't mind.
We have a few more questions for you to answer before we let you loose
on the general population."  His captor smirked.  "My name is Major
Harrison.  You may call me Major, if you like."  He snapped his
fingers, and the guards grabbed the agent by both arms and dragged him
into what looked to be an interrogation room.

     "My man Cromwell says you were talking to someone in the
restaurant.  His name was William.  Well, Willie actually.  Lovely
young man, would've made a good recruit.  If he had lived."  He
sounded like a child whose favorite toy just broke.  "Now before we
get started, I'm going to talk to your lovely partner.  These two
gentlemen will take care of you in the meantime."

     Mulder looked at him with pure hatred.  Harrison just
snickered as he left to visit the woman.

     Scully was seated in a room nearby.  The Major walked in and,
folding his arms in front of him, leaned negligently against the wall.

     "I demand to know what you are going to do with us.  We are
Federal agents on a case, and you are obstructing us in the
performance of our duties."

     "Dr. Scully, I presume."  At her look of surprise, he
continued.  "Oh yes, we know all about you and your partner, Spooky
Mulder.  It's amazing what a bottle of scotch buys these days.  So, do
want to tell me what you and he were doing out there?"

     "I told you, we were lost.  We were going to stop and ask
directions."

     "The commander's office is only a few yards from the gate, how
could you possibly have gotten lost?  Especially Federal agents such
as yourselves.  Don't insult my intelligence, Agent Scully."

     "My partner has a bad sense of direction."

     "Indeed he does."  He admired her spirit.  "Okay, well until
we get some answers out of either of you, it looks like you'll both be
here for a while."

     Harrison left and Scully sat alone for several minutes.  Then
she heard some scuffling a short distance away.  The door was locked
when she tried it, but she thought she knew what was happening.

     "SCULLY!"

     Oh God.  "MULDER!"

               - - - - -


Ellsworth AFB
Friday
2:30 a.m.

     Her stomach rumbled, and she began to regret the lunch she had
left mostly untouched back at the diner.  Mulder made her eat a few
bites, but what she left on her plate in defiance would have looked
very good right now.  She peered around the small room.  Like Mulder,
she had been moved from the first room.  Now she occupied a barren
cell - windowless except for a small opening in the door, more for the
guards' use than the inhabitants.  Other than that, there was only a
small sink, a cot, and a toilet, not unlike a prison cell.  One of the
nastier prison cells, she thought.  She wondered what time it was.
They had taken her watch when they brought her here.  For lack of
anything else to do she had slept, but had no idea for how long.  But
her stomach was now proclaiming that food was long overdue.

     She shivered.  Was it her imagination, or was it getting
colder?  The cold and the infernal 150 watt light directly over the
cot had prevented her from sleeping longer.  The couple hours she
was able to get last night were nowhere near enough, and she had been
mostly running on coffee and adreneline.

     She let her mind wander and wondered where Mulder was and how
he was being treated.  She also was wondering what Chris and Candy
were up to.  The more she thought about Candy and that morning the
madder she got, grateful for the warmth her temper generated.

     "So, how you doing?" She looked up and saw Harrison standing
in the doorway.

     "I'm freezing and I'm hungry."

     "I'm sure you are.  So, care to tell me why you're here?"

     "What do you mean?  You were the one who put me here."

     "That's funny, your partner said the same thing before he
passed out. Hmmm.."  Truth of the matter was they had done nothing
to her partner, not yet, anyway.  And we may not have to, he thought -
her concern for her partner was her achilles heel, as was his concern
for her.

     "You bastards - what did you do to him?"

     "Oh, nothing he won't recover from - in time.  So why did you
two come here?"  Scully knew she wasn't as adept as playing mind
games as Mulder was, but she remembered her hostage training.

     "Honestly, we were investigating the source of those tornadoes
that are plaguing the small towns of this region."

     "Truly, and what did you discover?"

     "That you're making them."  The truth, no matter how strange,
was better than any lie should could think of.

     "Make a tornado?  Now, really."  His laughter was mocking,
dismissive.

     "So, tell me.  If you aren't making these storms, why are we
here?  What do you have to hide?"  She looked at him.  The tables
turned.  He left the cell before his temper flared and he revealed
anything.  As soon as he was in the hall, he turned to the guard.

     "Turn off the heat to the whole cell block.  Maybe we can
freeze her into submission."

                               - - - - -

     Mulder had been dragged to a small room, or at least what he
could see of it from the hallway.  He was unceremoniously thrown in,
and the door slammed behind him.  The darkness was complete and he
could hear nothing.  After exploring his room as thoroughly as
possible in the dark, he slept for a while, only to be awakened by his
usual nightmare.  But there was no Scully to offer comfort, no TV or
VCR to drive the demons away.  In spite of the chill, he sat sweating
on the side of his cot.  Scully.  What was happening to Scully?

     He passed more time in re-reading his favorite books,
replaying them in his mind, turning the pages, seeing the words.  He
had almost forgotten where he was when, several hours later, two
guards burst into the room, grabbed him and dragged him into a cell,
brilliant with bright lights.

     "So, how do you like it so far?"  Mulder was trying to shield
his eyes but the two guards kept pulling his hands away from this
face.  It was agony to open his eyes. "Hmm...don't feel like chatting.
Let me start the conversation.  Why are you here?"

     "What do you mean?  You were the one who put me here."

     "Oh, that's very good.  Keep your sense of humor - you're
going to need it. I don't suppose you want to tell us why you came to
this base?"

     "No, I don't suppose."  He wasn't going to give them the
satisfaction of showing his discomfort.

     The Major had had enough, and nodded.  Next thing Mulder knew,
he was hauled to his feet and one of the guards landed an extremely
professional punch to his midsection.  "All right, Agent Mulder.  Play
hard ball if you want to.  Maybe your partner will be more forthcoming
under similar treatment."  Harrison turned on his heel and walked out
of the room.

     "You son of a bitch.  You'd better not TOUCH her, do you
understand me?"  With satisfaction, the Major heard a thud silence the
agent's threats.

                               - - - - -

Ellsworth AFB
Friday
6 a.m.

     Fortunately they let her keep her jacket but it was still cold
enough in the room that she could see her breath.  Stooping over the
little sink, she held the faucet on with one hand while she lapped at
the stale, rusty-tasting trickle that flowed from the antique
plumbing.  She wiped her face with her sleeve, then shivered
violently.  She started digging through her pockets for a lighter and
thought how smokers had an unfair advantage over the rest of the
populace, until her fingers closed around a small packet of matches.
Maybe if she lit a fire and set off the alarms they would have to
evacuate them, and perhaps she could see Mulder. Then the door opened
and she shoved them back in her pocket.

     "How's my favorite FBI Agent?  So," he sat down with a big
sigh, "let's start at the beginning once again."

     "Where's  Mulder?"

     "Oh, he's...let's just say he's indisposed at the moment."

     "If you have nothing to hide, why did you detain us?"  Scully
noticed the look of fear in his eyes when she turned the tables last
time, maybe she could send him out scurrying again.

     "Who said we were detaining you?  I never said that.  For your
information and gratification, you two are being held because you
breeched base security.  And because you two are just plain too nosy
for your own good.  Care to talk?"

     "I told you the truth.  We are investigating the origin of the
storms and we are following up on a lead that this place may be the
source."

     "Come with me."  He got up and pulled out a pair of handcuffs,
and put them on her.  They felt warm on her chilled wrists.  "I want
to show you something."  He held the door open for her and followed
her out into the hallway.  She welcomed the relative warmth, but was
disturbed by how dizzy she was.  "I believe you.  At least you're
civil with me, that's more than I can say for your partner."  He took
her toward the end of the hallway.  He punched in an access code and
the doors unlatched.

     They walked in what looked like a command center.  "I know you
were helping the wounded.  I just wanted you to see this."  He pointed
to a map up on the wall and all the towns that were hit were in red.
"Look familiar?  I told Richardson we should have been more careful
with the placement, but as usual the man never listens to me."

     "How?"

     "If I told you I'd have to kill you."  He laughed, a nasty
grating sound that made her skin crawl.  "You've seen enough."  To one
of the nearby soldiers, he said, "Take Agent Scully back to her room."

     "But what about Mulder?"

     He laughed again.

                                    - - - - -

7:00 a.m.

     After the rough treatment by the guards he was thrown back
into his little hole.  It was still dark and soundless.  But the
ringing in his ears gave him comfort.  Fortunately the guards hadn't
gone for the face or his ribs, but it would be a while before his
midsection stopped hurting.

     He paced in his little cell, feeling his way, trying not to
think of what things they might be doing to Scully.  He tried to
explore the small room, hoping to find a way out.  He found the sink
and held the faucet on while he cupped his other hand to get a little
water.  As bad as it tasted, it was better than nothing.  By his
reckoning, it had been a very long time since their brunch at the
diner, with nothing to eat or drink since.

     "Agent Mulder."  A figure stood in the doorway that was
flooded with light.  Involuntarily, the agent threw an arm up to
shield his face and his heart froze, remembering the figure framed by
the light in the doorway during his sister's abduction.  "I think it's
time we talked, don't you?"  Two guards stepped in and dragged him
once more down the hall.

     Harrison was grinning.  "I hear you're a real UFO nut.  Well,
I think I can show you something that will blow your mind."  The
guards deposited Mulder none too gently in a chair as he squinted to
keep the bright lights from his eyes.

     The Major walked around and flipped most the switches off.  "I
want you to be able to see this.  Your partner told us about your
suspicions and the storms, and you are both quite correct."

     "Why are you telling me this?"  Mulder's tone was hostile,
suspicious.  One of the guards stepped closer.

     "That's okay."  Harrison motioned to the guard to step back.
"Because, it's what you've been searching for your whole life, isn't
it?  Do aliens exist?"  Mulder eyed the Major with distastefully.  If
Harrison were telling him everything he wanted to know, then they were
obviously going to kill both him and Scully.  So there was nothing to
lose.  While watching Harrison with apparent interest, the greater
part of his mind was busy trying to come up with a plan to free Scully
and himself.

     "I think I have something that will prove interesting to you.
From one UFO believer to another."  The guards, making sure his
handcuffs were secure, picked him up out of the chair.  They walked
down the hall.  He remembered that Scully was in one of these rooms,
but which one?

     "So what is it that you want to tell me?"  He pitched his
voice purposely loud.  Maybe if Scully heard him, she would try to let
him know what room she was in.

     "I think being in that deprivation room is wearing on you,
Agent Mulder.  There's no need to shout."

     Scully heard him and rushed to the door.  Reaching up, she
banged on the tiny window set high in the door.  Spying her petite
hand, Mulder shouldered the guard to the right and threw him off
balance.  Using the martial arts training from Quantico, he kicked the
other guard, dislocating his knee.  Harrison, taken aback for a
moment, ran down the hall, yelling for reinforcements.

     Mulder scrambled over to the door where he had seen the hand,
finding it, as he had assumed, locked.  He stepped back and kicked the
area of the lock savagely, the wood finally yielding.

     "Scully, come on!"  Reaching in, he grabbed her wrist and
started for the door.  They had not taken two steps when Mulder was
blindsided by two burly guards.  Another guard grabbed Scully and
pushed her into the next room with a functioning lock.  She began
pounding on the door and shouting her partner's name.  The guards used
their batons liberally to subdue Mulder, then he was dragged
unconscious back to the deprivation room and tossed in.

     Harrison stepped into the doorway.  "You foolish man. I was
going to show you something that would have....anyway, no matter. Now
you'll stay here."  As soon as he stepped out of the way the door was
slammed shut and Mulder was left in the cold silent dark.


End of Chapter Five




Chapter Six


Somewhere in South Dakota
Friday
1:00 p.m.


     The noise in the back of the truck made conversation between
them impossible, even if the four impressively armed military types
guarding them had allowed it.  They drew what comfort they could from
the fact that, after a long night alone and anxious about each other's
welfare, they were sitting close enough to touch.  For now, that would
have to be enough.

     They had long since left paved roads behind, and for the past
half hour or so had left any vestige of even a path.  As far as Scully
could tell, they were cutting across the prairie in a direction not
served by roads.  Or perhaps rather than a lack of roads, it was
because their captors wanted to avoid the risk of someone remembering
a lone military truck travelling where it didn't belong.  She tried to
estimate their speed, the length of time they had been riding, and to
a limited extent, the direction they had taken.  She had felt the
subtle pressure of Mulder's leg against hers when he wanted her to
notice something, so she became particularly alert at those times,
although she was not always quite sure what he wanted her to notice.
About two hours into their journey, the truck finally bumped to a
stop.

     The tailgate was dropped and the soldiers got out.  "This must
be the place," Mulder murmured to Scully.  "You know, this reminds me
all too uncomfortably of a number of movies I've seen.  In your
professional opinion - are four guys enough for a firing squad?"

     "You're such a comfort, Mulder.  Now I know why it's such a
wonderful experience being your partner."  At a signal from one of the
soldiers, Scully got up awkwardly.  With muscles cramped from the long
jouncing ride and her arms handcuffed behind her, she lost her balance
and fell face-first into her partner's lap.

     "No time to thank me right now, Scully."  He righted her as
best he could without the use of his arms and got to his feet.
Preceding her out of the truck, he jumped down from the tailgate and
landed on his face in the dusty sod.  The soldiers and Major Harrison
watched him impassively but never moved, so he struggled to his feet
on his own.  "You might at least give the lady a hand," he suggested
pointedly.  There was a second's hesitation, then at a nod from
Harrison, the tallest of the soldiers reached up, grabbed Scully
around the waist and deposited her none too gently on her feet next to
Mulder.

     Harrison turned to his men.  "Whitfield, stay here and just
keep an eye on things.  The rest of you men can get back in the truck.
You two - come with me."  The agents exchanged questioning glances,
then followed the tall, bulky form of the officer for a distance of
fifty or sixty yards away from the truck.  "Stand there and don't
move."  He stepped behind Scully and released her handcuffs, then did
the same for Mulder.

     Both agents were too suspicious of their captor to necessarily
take heart.  Harrison might just be taking off the cuffs because it
would be awkward explaining their presence on two bullet-riddled
corpses.  As unlikely as the odds of their escape were, Mulder was
scanning the area, formulating and revising plans as fast as his brain
could function.  Hand on his sidearm, Harrison surveyed him
contemptuously.

     "Don't bother, Mr. Mulder.  Whitfield would cut you down
before you took two steps.  You two are real pains in the ass, you
know that?  You have no idea of the damage you're doing.  This project
could put this country in a position of unrivalled power for a long,
long time.  I should be treated like a hero rather than having to deal
with two people like you, who should know better.  Who should also
have the interests of this country at heart, like I do.  Do you know
how long it's been since this country was in a position of having
exclusive possession of a weapon with this kind of potential?  I
should be decorated for what I'm helping to bring to our country."

     "I know," said Scully drily.  "I was just telling Mulder the
other day that there simply aren't enough awards for someone who would
unleash a natural disaster on an unwitting community.  Wasn't I,
Mulder?"

     He nodded emphatically. "Oh, yeah.  You sure did."

     The officer scowled.  "Unfortunately, I have been instructed
that you are going to die accidently in the performance of your
duties.  It's ironic, isn't it - that you two may end up being the
ones decorated?  Posthumously, of course, which has its drawbacks -
one big one, anyway."

     He began to stride away from them, and had almost reached the
truck when he called back.  "Too bad you didn't bring an umbrella - I
understand the forecast is calling for some pretty nasty weather later
on."  He snickered at his own joke, then signalled to Whitfield who
jumped into the truck and hauled the gate up and secured it.  Harrison
climbed into the passenger seat.  "Let's go."

     Scully, rubbing the chafed rings of skin around her wrists,
watched as the truck sped off.  "What do we do now?" she asked
tensely.

     Mulder put a hand out and gently squeezed her shoulder.
"Right now, let's just think for a minute.  First of all, are you all
right? Did they hurt you, touch you?"

     "No, I'm fine.  I'm tired - they made sure they kept me awake
with their stories of what they were doing to you.  And I'm very
hungry and thirsty.  But I'm okay.  Are you all right?"

     "Yeah, fine. Well, in better shape than I usually emerge from
these things," he said, sheepishly. He knew she was understating
things - she was Scully.  And he knew what sort of effect their
stories would have had on her, if only because he knew what effect
they had had on him.  But the last thing he was going to do was call
her on it.  "All right, obviously those guys are going to get back to
the base and cook up a little tornado for us.  What are our
alternatives?"

     "I just hope that they wait until they get back to the base,
Mulder.  They might have set it up before they left, arranged to have
the tornado occur at a certain time or something.  I don't know
whether or not you've noticed, but there's not a lot of shelter out
here.  If we're caught in the open with one of their special little
tornadoes, not only are we going to be dead, but they'll be able to
send what they find of us back to Washington in a shoe box."

     "I know."  He looked around, squinting against the glare of
the afternoon sun, which was quickly becoming obscured by clouds.  In
the distance he could see the dust trail kicked up by the truck as it
moved away from them.  "Well, I can only hope that Harrison is
egocentric enough not to want to risk his hide on an experimental
process that doesn't have all the bugs worked out yet.  I'm betting
that he'll want a large margin of error for this tornado, and will
want to put the maximum amount of distance between it and himself."

     "Okay, that seems logical.  So how long do we have?"  She
stood facing into the wind to prevent her hair from whipping across
her eyes.

     "It took us a little over two hours to get out here, and I'm
assuming it will take about the same amount of time for them to get
back, then a little more time to crank up the machinery.  Do you have
any idea where we are?"

     "You spent more time looking over the maps than I did, Mulder.
Wait a minute, I remember seeing a sign when we were still on the
road.  You saw it too, didn't you?  You nudged me then.  Something
about Thunder Butte being 17 miles away, but I can't remember anything
else.  I tried to keep track of the direction we were going.  We
headed north for a while, and we had been travelling east when we left
the road, I know that.  Then we were running diagonally from the road,
so I think we were headed northeast.  After we left the roads I
couldn't discern much direction change, but then again, if they kept
the turns slow and wide, I wouldn't have noticed it."  She looked at
Mulder, who appeared distracted.

     Vaguely, he said, "I don't think there were any major
direction changes after we got off the roads, and I don't think they
would have bothered to disguise them.  We're not supposed to get out
of this alive, remember?  I had my eye on an opening in the canvas
side of the truck where I could see the daylight, and the direction of
the sun never changed."  He shook his head, a perplexed expression on
his face. "What the hell is it?  Thunder Butte, Thunder Butte.  I
remember hearing something about that place, something I think Byers
told me, but I can't quite put my finger on it."

     "Too bad you didn't read it, or you'd remember it now."  She
squatted on the ground to get out of the worst of the cold wind, and
her partner did the same.  "We need to get out of here, Mulder.  We
can't stay where they dropped us off, we need to put as much distance
between here and us as we can.  The question is, in which direction?"

     "Well, there's nothing in sight, that's for sure - no town, no
buildings, no roads, no nothing except grassland," replied her
partner.  "You pick."

     "Harrison doesn't strike me as an original thinker.  Like you
said, I think he's got a terrific opinion of himself, but I don't
think he really has much to back it up.  I feel he's going to assume
we'll try to go back in the direction we came from - following the
path of the truck, in other words.  I think we should go in the
opposite direction as far as we can."

     "And when we get there?  It still may not be far enough,
Scully," Mulder said quietly.

     She shrugged.  "I don't know.  Maybe something will occur to
us when we get there.  But don't count us out yet, Mulder."

     He gazed into her earnest, determined visage, drawing on her
strength.  Then he smiled slightly, nodded, and got to his feet.  She
took the hand he held out to her and stood.  "What do you think the
chances are of that geological formation over there being Thunder
Butte?  Does it look butte-ish to you?"

     "I think I do detect a certain butte-ishness about it," agreed
his partner.

     She was silent for a minute, avoiding his eyes, shifting her
weight from side to side, a dead giveway that she had something on
her mind.  Finally,

     "Mulder... I need you to promise me something.  The marathon
was never my event.  I suspect I am about to regret every time you
have ever invited me out running and I refused."  The smile left her
lips and she looked at him seriously. "I don't want to hold you up.
If I start to fall behind, go on without me.  Please, as a favor to
me."

     He smiled, shaking his head, and reached out to put his arm
around her shoulder to pull her close.  "Ain't no way, Scully.
Besides, who can outrun a tornado?  We're probably idiots to even try.
But Thunder Butte means something, I'm sure of it.  Let's assume that
that's where we're headed, and see how close we get.  Together."

     They started out at a brisk jog over terrain that only
appeared to be flat and smooth from a distance.  Their efforts might
have been less hopeful had they known that even as they panted across
the grasslands, their forms appeared as two electronic blips on the
small screen that Harrison held in his hands.

                               - - - - -


     It was over an hour later and they had just stopped for the
second time to catch their breath.

     "How...far...have we...come?"  panted Scully, massaging her
sore ankles.  Both she and her partner had stumbled and twisted their
ankles repeatedly while running over the prairie.  Both knew that they
had no choice other than to keep going.  Mulder cast a concerned
glance over his partner.  Like him, her exposed skin was covered with
the dust that ran down their faces and necks in muddy rivulets as it
mixed with their sweat.  But beneath the grime she was deathly pale,
and her lips were a little cyanotic.  With having had nothing to eat
or drink for so long, they were running on their reserves, and her
partner could tell that Scully was just about running on empty.  He
had been careful to slow as she slowed and appear as physically spent
as she was.  They did not have the luxury of time to stop and fight
about his going on without her.  As if he ever would.  But there was
still no shelter, and he was no closer to remembering what was
significant about Thunder Butte.

     "We've covered maybe six miles or so.  Not bad going under the
circumstances," answered Mulder.  "That may even be enough, Scully.
If we are in the opposite direction from where Harrision thought we'd
go, that makes a total of twelve miles away from where he thinks we
would be by now.  And it's not like these tornadoes are like
hurricanes, covering hundreds of square miles."  She gasped slightly
in response to his words.  Alarmed, he demanded, "What's the matter,
what is it?"

     Her expression had turned as grim as the gathering clouds off
to the west.  "You're right, Mulder, you're absolutely right.  They
cover a very small area indeed.  So tell me this.  Unless he had
staked us out on an anthill or something, how could Harrison know
exactly where we are, to within a mile or so?  Because he would need
that sort of accuracy to be sure that we would be caught and killed by
the tornado."  She looked at him.  It took a few moments, but then the
answer hit.

     "Bugs! Fuck, Scully, they planted a bug on us!  They've been
watching us run, probably laughing their asses off, knowing that all
they have to do is plot the coordinates the bugs are sending back.
Where are they, where could they have put them?"

     Scully was so tired that she could have burst into tears,
thinking of the painful but wasted efforts of the past hour.
Deliberately, she focused on the events surrounding their capture.
"We've been so manhandled in the last twenty four hours, they could be
anywhere.  They had all kinds of opportunity, up to and including when
that soldier hauled me down off the truck."

     "No, he didn't do anything then, I was watching pretty
closely.  It must have been while we were still at the airbase.  They
took our guns, but they didn't go through our pockets or anything.
Yeah, I can't think of too many places I haven't been grabbed, pushed,
prodded or punched lately.  Check your holster and your sleeves,
Scully.  We know we both came into contact with them there."

     "Bingo.  Here's mine.  Unless I miss my guess, a homing
device, not a listening device."  She held up something tiny.  "It was
stuck to the backside of my holster."

     After examining the bug he found on himself, he nodded,
confirming her guess.  "Nothing up your sleeves?  I had this one stuck
into my jacket sleeve."

     "No, just the one, as far as I can tell.  But you'd better
check.  Our time is running out to try to fix this."  Mulder quickly
but thoroughly searched her clothing and found no more homing devices,
then Scully did the same for him.

     "Now what?"  she asked.  "What kind of time to we have?"  She
needn't have spoken.  A look at her partner's face was informative
enough.

     "Uh - not much.  I'm afraid we have to distance ourselves from
these devices, so it means more running.  Do you think a mile would be
enough?"

     "It's going to have to be.  I'm not sure I can even do that
much, and we don't have the time to run much further than that anyway.
Let's go."  She climbed wearily to her feet and set out at a slow trot
in the direction of the butte in the distance.  Mulder looked with
disgust at the homing devices lying on the sod, then set off after his
partner.

     She tired much more quickly this time.  As he ran beside her,
he talked, joked, teased - in fact did everything he could think of to
keep her mind off her exhaustion and her feet moving.

     "Come on, Scully - any slower and I'll pick you up and carry you."

     "Don't.  You.  Dare.  Mulder.  Look.  Just... go on.  I'll
catch up."

     "Save your breath."

     Altogether, they managed to cover just under three quarters of
a mile, when Mulder grabbed his partner by the shoulder and pointed
slightly to their left.  "Scully, wait.  What's that?"  His eyes
peered into the deepening gloom, then his face lit up for the first
time that day.  "Yes!  Now I remember what Byers mentioned!  Just a
little farther, Scully, just over there.  You can make it that far.
Come on, this could save our asses, G-woman.  That's it, one tiny
little foot in front of the other."  By alternately praising and
nagging, he managed to keep her on her feet until they reached their
goal.  And by that time, the sky was darkening fast.

     He jumped down into the trench.  "Okay Scully, sit down on the
edge and slide.  I'll catch you," he called up.  "Then you can rest."
Her head appeared over the side, then she did as he had instructed.
He caught her gently but securely by the waist, then helped her to
sit, her back against the wall of sod.

     The trench was one of a series, placed about fifty yards
apart.  Each was approximately a thousand feet long, eight feet wide
and anywhere from four to six feet deep.  Where the two agents found
themselves was one of the deeper areas.

     "Mulder, what is this place?"

     "Byers told me about it.  Just before our entry into World War
One, the country was in a very isolationist frame of mind - didn't
want to get involved in Europe's problems.  So the Army had to find
fairly out-of-the-way places to train its troops without raising
speculation that we were about to get involved.  Thunder Butte, South
Dakota was considered to be one of the places that fit the bill.  They
were being trained for the sort of battles which were taking place in
France at that time - namely trench warfare."  As he spoke, he eyed
the growing thunderheads speculatively, and pulled a Swiss Army knife
from his pocket.  "See, Scully, it pays to have been a Boy Scout - I'm
always prepared."  He began to saw at the sod in the side of the
trench.

     As exhausted as she was, his partner couldn't let that one
pass.  "Cut the crap, you were never a Boy Scout, Mulder."  He
snickered.  "What are you doing, anyway?  And how long do we have?"

     "Trying to construct us a little hidey-hole.  And you don't
want to know.  By my reckoning, I figure we ran out of time almost
five minutes ago."  Frantically, he cut the sod from the wall of the
trench, threw it aside, and began to stab at the dirt beneath to
loosen it enough to scoop out.  A moment later, he found Scully at his
side, using her arms to sweep the loosened dirt from the hole so he
could continue to enlarge it.

     "Not down low, Mulder," she said breathlessly.  "These
trenches ...probably collect rainwater ...in a downpour.  Like the
washes... out in the desert.  It would be ironic.. survive the
wind... drown in the rain."

     The sky had darkened dramatically and the first few drops of
rain began to fall as she spoke.  They renewed their speed.  In
fifteen more minutes, they were soaked to the skin in the driving rain
that was now coming down in heavy sheets, but they had managed to
scoop out a rough shelf, four feet long, two feet high and two and a
half feet deep.

     "It's not big enough, Mulder."  Scully yelled to be heard over
the pounding of the rain.

     "It's going to have to be.  Get in," he yelled back.

     "You first."

     He shook his head vehemently.  "Don't start, Scully.  We won't
fit if I go in first.  I know what I'm doing - get in."

     She looked at him doubtfully, then dived into the opening as
lightning split the sky and illuminated the gloom.  "That's it - curl
up with your back to the opening.  I'm coming in now."

     With an effort, he clutched on to the sod above him and
hoisted himself into the crevass, wrapping himself around Scully's
small frame like a turtleshell.  His own back protruded an inch or two
from the opening, but for the most part, they were as protected as
they were going to get out here on the open prairie.

     "Okay?"

     "Uh...could you just move your knee... no, the other one.
Yeah, that's better."

     His broad shoulders blocked out what little light the outside
offered, except during the fiercest of the lightning flashes.  "Can
you breathe?"  His voice was close to Scully's ear, close enough to
tickle as he spoke.

     "Yeah.  Not great, but enough.  I think there's bugs crawling
under my clothes, though."

     "I wouldn't be surprised.  Are you warm enough?"

     "Yeah."

     Yeah, right.  She was shaking like a leaf and he could hear
her teeth chattering.  It hadn't been exactly balmy all day, and they
were both soaked.  Then with the exhaustion, dehydration, lack of
food....  As much as he had room for, he began to rub her arms and
legs, trying to coax a little warmth into them.  Involuntarily, he
pulled her closer as lightning lit up their den and almost
simultaneous thunder crashed.  "That was close," he said
unnecessarily.

     Her voice was muffled, but warm with memories.  "I used to
love thunderstorms when I was a kid.  Missy was scared to death, but I
would sit out on the porch swing with my father and watch the sky
light up."  She giggled a little.  "We used to rate the thunderclaps,
scoring them like an Olympic diving competition or something.
Everyone else in the family thought we were crazy, but it was always
such a special time, just the two of us."

     Mulder felt a pang as he often did when Scully talked about
her family.  Partly for her, for what she had lost in the last few
years, and partly for himself, for the close family he had never had.
Even before Samantha was taken, his father had been cold, demanding
and distant, and his mother anxiously wrapped up in her husband's
needs and wants.  Most of the memories were so dark, so painful, so
bleak....  "Samantha always hated thunderstorms.  My parents forbade
us to disturb them at night for any reason, so she would try to climb
in with me.  She thought I was so brave..."  His voice caught and he
choked a little.  "Sorry.  Dust."

     "Yeah."  Scully accepted easily what they both knew for
fiction.  "I'm starting to warm up a little, Mulder.  How about you?"

     "Not too bad.   The inside parts of me are warming up, anyway."

     She shifted slightly, freeing up another inch of space.
"Better?"

     Her partner squirmed.  "Yeah, thanks.  At least my butt's not
hanging out there like a lightning rod now."  He was quiet for a few
moments.

     "Scully ... you need to know this ... especially now.  This
thing with Candy.  She meant something to me once, I don't deny that.
But I realize that it was in the past, there's nothing now.  When
we ...  well, it just wasn't the same, not like I remembered it.  She
realizes it, and so do I."

     "What brought that on, Mulder?"

     "I thought you should know, that's all."

     She nodded.  "I just didn't want to see you get hurt," she
said quietly.

     "I know."

     Long moments passed, with only the sounds of the raging storm
outside their den.  In spite of their predicament, they began to relax
in each other's arms.

     "How long?"

     "Anytime, now."  He tightened his arm around her.  God, she
was so small.  Tough, but small.  And once again he had managed to
involve her in something that could - and this time probably would -
exact the ultimate price.

     "Dana.  I'm so sorry."

     He felt her head shake slightly.  "Really, Mulder?  I'm not.
I'm not sorry for any of it."

     "How can you say that?  I got you into this - it was my
search, my work, my quest, and I got you so involved that you've
suffered by it.  You've lost so much - even before... this.  Your
sister.  All hopes of a more orthodox career, with promotions.  You
completely lost three months out of your life.  I know you've lost
friendships over our work.... Over me.  Relationships, too,
undoubtedly.  What could possibly make all that up to you?"

     She sighed, not unhappily, almost rather a sigh of
contentment.  "I've come to terms with Missy's death.  No one was
responsible but the man who pulled the trigger.  Not me, and certainly
not you.  As to the other things - I made those choices, Mulder, and I
made them willlingly, not out of a sense of obligation or desperation
or anything else.  I made those choices knowing what could happen.
And I'd make those same choices again.  You speak in terms of loss -
but look at what I've gained.  I've seen things, experienced things,
that no one else has.  The whole realm of extreme possibility has been
opened for me, without boundaries.  The sense of freedom alone has
been incredible, exhilarating.  Intellectually, I've been challenged
in ways nothing else could have done - and I think I've met that
challenge.  I've learned so much from what we've been through, and
from you.  And ... there's you...our partnership...our friendship.
It's all been a roller coaster ride, but infinitely better than never
going on the ride at all."  Her small hands moved, interlacing her
fingers with his, and she brought their hands up close to her cheek so
he could feel the warmth of her breath as she spoke.  "Even if we
don't get out of this, Mulder, I don't regret a single thing that
happened."

     He was silent for a few moments, speechless and overwhelmed.
When at last he spoke, his voice was soft and tight with the emotion
he was trying so hard to hold in check.  "Do you regret what didn't
happen?"

     She didn't pretend to misunderstand him.  "Maybe.  But that's
a big step.  Things happen when they're supposed to happen, Mulder.
If it ends here, it just wasn't meant to happen."

     "And if it doesn't end here?  If somehow we manage to get out
of this?"

     "The ride will go on.  And we'll have more time.  And
maybe....  You never know - not in the realm of extreme possibility.
After all, we both know that stranger things have happened."  So
softly it might have been his imagination, her lips brushed the back
of his hand.

     A roaring sound cut through even the din of the thunderstorm,
building with every second, until their ears ached with it.  Once more
he tightened his grip.

     "Here we go."

End of Chapter Six.



Chapter Seven

Somewhere in South Dakota
Friday
2 p.m.

     "Oh great, we're lost!"  Anger and frustration were evident in
his voice, and in the abrupt way he pulled the jeep over and put it in
park.  Candy just sat there with a smug look on her face.  She had
told him the right routes, if he couldn't follow them, how was she to
blame?  "Okay, now where?"

     "You know..." she stopped herself in mid-sentence.  He was
being a royal prick, but seeing what he had been through in the past
forty eight or more hours, he was probably entitled.  "Okay, let me
see where we are."  She spread the map out across her lap and the
dashboard and tried to recreate the route she believed they had taken.
"You see, we were supposed to take Route 212 off Route 34.  But if we
stay on this road we can work our way up towards the Thunder Butte
area.  Plenty of time."  She looked out the windshield at the greying
sky.  "We can't be that far away - look at the clouds."  He made a
face that told her that he was not any happier.  "Oh, just drive."

     They had delivered the supplies to Hayes the previous day, and
spent the rest of the day and a good part of the night distributing
them in Hayes and in Cherry Creek.  They finally got to bed by dawn,
falling from exhaustion onto the nearest unoccupied cots. They got no
more than a few hours of fitful, interrupted sleep when they were up,
manning the kitchen and trying to provide some sort of nourishing meal
to over four hundred hungry refugees and volunteers. When the
seemingly endless lines had at last ended, Eric ran up and pulled
Chris aside.  After Eric returned to his duties, Chris came to Candy's
side.

     "The conditions are right for another tornado - predictions
are that this could be the biggest yet."

     "Do they have any idea where?"

     "Somewhere north of here, in all probability.  Let's see that
map."

     They went out to the jeep and rummaged in the glove
compartment to where the map had been stowed.

     "Yeah, look here," Chris said.  "Following the path of that
arch, I'd put money on the site of the next tornado being Thunder
Butte, or somewhere damn close to it."  They had left Hayes soon
after.

     Chris peeled off the side of the road and got back into
traffic.  Hopefully they hadn't lost too much time. It bothered him
that they couldn't reach Dana. He could really use her right now.

     "Why don't you try Mulder and Dana again."

     "Why?"

     "Are you going to question everything I ask you to do, because
if you are, I'm going pull over and drop you off right here."

     "I'm sorry."  She realized Chris was hanging on by sheer
willpower at this point, and the best plan was to just go along with
him.  "I'll try."  Still no answer.

     "Try the base at Hayes.  Eric should still be there.  The
number is 555-8093."

     Candy handed him the phone "It's for you."  She was hoping he
would smile, but he didn't.

     "Flip on the hands-free button.  Eric?"

     "Yeah, Chris.  We've been hearing more bad things about the
weather.  Looks surer than ever about a big one happening soon.  Of
course, they've been wrong before."

     "Ain't that the truth.  Listen, have you heard from the two
FBI agents lately?"

     "Naw.  Why?"

     "Oh just curious.  If they call looking for us, tell them
we're headed toward Thunder Butte - looks like that may be where the
action is."

     "Us?"

     "Candy's here too."

     "Huh-huh."

     "I know what you're thinking, and knock it off.  How are
things there?"

     "Okay.  We're just mopping up.  The Governor just declared
this town and the others disaster areas, so that will help."

     "Great. Yeah, I talked to the Rapid City Director.  Glad to
hear it."

     "Oh, by the way.  Strangest thing."

     "Now what?"

     "I just heard about this myself.  About noon, on the way back
here from Belvidere, a jeepload of our guys was almost run off the
road by a military transport.  Looks like it was in a hurry, headed
north.  Who knows, maybe Uncle Sam has decided to think ahead and is
actually sending some GI help before we need it. That would be a nice
change."

     "Yeah, maybe. Listen, I don't know if we'll be able to stay in
contact while we're up there.  I'll call when I can, okay?"

     "Sure thing.  Be careful."

     Chris hit the end button on the phone.  "A military
transport."  He looked thoughtful and told her the details of his
conversation with Eric.

     Candy glanced over at him, puzzled.  "Isn't it a good thing to
have the military involved in the rescue effort?"

     "Not according to my brother who was in Vietnam."

     "What?"

     "Never mind, family joke.  Listen, are you sure about those
directions?"

     "Yes."

     "Good.  Looks like there's more going on in Thunder Butte than
a storm, if you know what I mean."

     "No, I don't.  I don't have the faintest idea."

     "You will," he said grimly.  "You will."

                             - - - - -

     It was forty five minutes later when they arived in the town
of Thunder Butte.  The thunderstorm had been fierce for the past
twenty minutes and hail bounced off the hood of the Jeep with sharp
little pinging noises.  Once again, the local shelter was in a school,
a scene all too familiar to Chris.  The town's tornado siren had gone
off a few moments earlier, and they struggled through the doors along
with residents fleeing the storm.  He found the local sheriff and
asked him if anyone had seen a military truck.

     "Naw, man. I haven't seen anyone here from the military."

     "Strange.  One was reported."

     "Not really.  They were probably heading up north to do some
maneuvers or something. I wouldn't worry about it."

     "I suppose."  Something was nagging at him.  He had a feeling
that he should worry, that something very important was going on.  "I
need to call my base camp, can I use the phone?"

     "Sure, if it still works."

     While Chris did his investigating, Candy stood under the
portico of the school.  The hail had stopped and the wind was kicking
up, as was the lightning and thunder. Chris found her making notes in
a notebook.

     "Writing this down for your memoires?"

     "No, making notations about the unusual cloud formation.  It
looks like the center of the storm is going to happen over there, and
happen damn soon.  This is why I wanted to be in the thick of it. To
get some good weather data. I would have joined you in Cherry Creek,
if it wasn't for Scorpy."

     "Who?"

     "Mulder."

     "Oh." His tone made it clear that he truly didn't care to hear
that name any time soon.  "Well, if we don't get inside, we'll
definitely be in the heart of it.  Come on."

                             - - - - -

     "Chris!"

     Candy had been glued to the windows of the school for twenty
minutes, when she rushed over to where her companion was setting up
cots and pulled him roughly by the arm.  "Chris, you have to see this
- the funnel cloud - it's forming!  And its whole behavior is totally
unnatural!  This is incredibly fascinating!  Why didn't I think to
bring a video camera?"

     They were interrupted by a beeping from the cell phone hanging
on Chris' belt.

     "Myers."

     "Chris, this is Eric.  Thought you ought to know, for what
it's worth.  We've had a report relayed to us from Rapid City.
Actually, less a report than something that just seemed to come up in
conversation.  There's a guy that hangs out around Ellsworth, mostly
just causes trouble, throws garbage at the jeeps, stuff like that.
He's been kind of semi-adopted by some of the guys from the Rapid City
office, they try to keep him out of trouble.  He's not a terribly
reliable source, but he said something to them, and they relayed it to
me, that I thought might interest you.  Have you heard from your
missing agents yet?"

     "No, why?"

     "I don't think you're going to, either, if what our source
said is true.  He's kind of a weird guy, always reporting something or
other, most of which turns out to have been a product of his fertile
imagination.  But this time there was a ring of truth to it."

     "What did he say?"

     "Well, there was a lot of his anti-military stuff to start
with, his usual rant.  But then he started going on about how the
government was starting to turn against itself, and if they could do
that, what chance did anyone have.  Well, he wasn't making much sense,
but then again he never does - "

     "Cut to the chase, Eric, we're in the middle of a mess here."

     "Yeah, well, so are your Fed friends.  Homer the Gomer said
that he saw two people who fit their descriptions taken at gunpoint
and in handcuffs and loaded into a military transport, heading north
from Ellsworth."

     "You think it was the same truck - the one your guys saw?"

     "I dunno.  Could be - the direction's right.  I'll keep you
posted, anyway."

     "You have a point.  Thanks, Eric, we'll check it out from
here.  And if you find out anything more, let me know."  He pressed
the phone off and turned thoughtfully to Candy.

     "IF you were right - and I'm not saying you are - but IF you
were right, and there was something going on at Ellsworth, would it be
worth killing over?  Killing two Federal agents?"

     Candy matched his grim look.  "If what we suspect is going on
is in fact going on, yeah, I believe they would stop at nothing to
keep it quiet.  Control of the weather could be a weapon of unrivalled
power.  Nuclear weapons haven't been used.  Why?  Partly because of
the threat that the radiation unleashed could eventually spread to
allied areas.  But even more importantly, because the rest of the
world would condemn whatever country used those weapons as an
international criminal.  But weather happens all the time.  A whole
war could be carried out using weather as a weapon and no one would be
any the wiser.  Now, what means do YOU think they would use to protect
that knowledge?"

     "Do you think that's what's happening?"

     "As you know, I believe the source of that power is alien
technology, and I'll believe that til the day I die.  But regardless
of the source, yeah, I believe that's what's happening."

     "And Mulder and Dana walked right into the lion's den, asking
questions...."  He proceded to recount his conversation with Eric.

     "Chris - we've got to get out there!"

     He looked at her blankly.  "Why?"

     "Think about it.  You're the base commander, you're testing
this alien technology to create weather - " she gave him a warning
look not to interrupt her - "that causes all sorts of civilian deaths
and horrendous damage, and then two nosy Federal agents show up at
your door.  You'd want to get rid of them, right?  Permanently.  But
how would you do it?  Car accidents are investigated, and it's not
likely they could get killed in the crossfire of a gangfight in South
Dakota.  So how would you get rid of them?"

     He suddenly looked grim as it dawned on him.  "Stick them out
at Ground Zero in the middle of nowhere and create a tornado over
their heads."

     "Bingo.  So let's get out there, now."

     "It won't do them any good if we get killed, too.  If they're
out there on the prairie, in the open, in THAT...."  He trailed off as
with widened eyes he saw the funnel cloud hover over one spot in the
distance.  They both watched, transfixed, as it grew in size and
ferocity for some minutes, then simply disappeared.  "Shit!"  Chris
quickly turned from the window.  "Sheriff!

     The lawman turned at the sound of his name and walked over to
where they stood.  "Can I help you?"

     "Sheriff, what's out there - anything but prairie?"

     "Well, it's mostly just open land, of course.  There is the
old Practice Ground, though."

     "Practice Ground?"

     "It's where they trained troops before World War One - lots of
trenches and ground fortifications and such."

     "Would it provide cover?"

     "Well, not to say cover, exactly.  'Sides, nothing's enough
cover for something like these storms.  But it's the only place out
there that isn't just open spaces."

     "Thanks.  Look, stay close to the phone.  I'm going out there.
We think that a couple of friends might have been stranded out there,
and I may be phoning in for some help."

     "If they were stranded out there, the only thing you'll be
phoning back for is body bags.  You know where I'll be."  He smiled,
tipped his hat to Candy and ambled off.

     "Okay, you stay here, Candy, and I'll let you know what's
going on."

     "No way in hell.  I'm going with you."

     "Look, we don't know what we're going to find out there.  I
know you've known Mulder for a long time, and what we find, if
anything, well...let's just say that I've had a lot of exposure to
stuff like that and you haven't."

     As patiently as possible, she replied, "I appreciate your
manly instincts to protect 'the little woman'.  But I'm going."

     He saw by the set expression of her face and the
determination in her eyes that he would do nothing by arguing with
her other than waste time.  He smiled.  "Okay.  If I left you here
you'd probably just manage to get yourself abducted by aliens,
anyway."

     "For your information, I've already been abducted by aliens."

     "Well, hopefully you learned something from the experience
that will be of some use out there."  He grabbed some blankets and an
extra first aid kit, and they left the building.

                             - - - - -

     "Where are we going?"  Candy shouted over the noise of the
storm and the jeep's engine and held on for dear life as the vehicle
bounced along on the rough prairie.

     "Practice Grounds," he shouted back.  "If they were dropped
off out here, it's the only place they would have had a prayer.  If
they didn't get to the Practice Grounds, we won't be finding them.
Look, Candy - this is a real long-shot.  I don't know if they even
knew of the existence of this place.  But it's the only place that
they would have a chance."

     She nodded, her eyes filling with tears.  She and Mulder
weren't all that close now, but they had been once.  She wasn't used
to losing her friends, not like this - by cold blooded murder.  Chris
took one hand off the wheel and closed it over hers.  She flashed a
look of gratitude his way.

     As they drove, Candy pointed out various features of the storm
damage, which intensified as they neared their objective. She drew his
attention to the way the few trees on the landscape were twisted and
how the debris was scattered.  She sounded more like an archeologist
than a meteorologist.  "This is interesting, Chris - and encouraging.
I think the tornado was actually centered about half a mile over in
that direction.  You see how the ground is really churned up over
there?  It looks like there's a wrecked car over there, too.  I think
that's where the tornado actually struck.  So if the Practice Ground
didn't take a direct hit, maybe...."

     Chris pulled over.  The sun was peeking through the clouds,
low on the horizon. The storm was the shortest and smallest one to
date.  Figures, Chris thought - that the weather prediction was wrong,
to such a degree.  They got out and began to survey the debris around
them.

     "What's that...oh, God."  Candy turned away, white as a ghost.
"Chris - it looks like an arm."

     He went over to inspect her discovery.  "That's exactly what
it is.  A man's left arm, it looks like."

     "Could it be Mulder?" she asked, praying not to hear an
affirmative answer.

     "Not unless he was in the habit of wearing large, gaudy pinkie
rings," he replied.  "Somehow Mulder didn't strike me as that type."

     "No.  Oh thank God, it isn't him.  I wonder where the rest of
that guy is?"

     "He may have been in that car out there, maybe got sucked out
through the window, or had some flying glass hit him or something.
It's a pretty clean amputation.  I expect we'll be seeing more of
him... here and there."

     "Chris!"

     "Sorry - gallows humor.  An occupational hazard."  He smiled
apologetically.  "Are you alright?"

     "Yeah, I think so."  He gave her a reassuring pat, and went
back to scanning the landscape.

     "Hey, the trenches are over here."  She hurried over to where
he was standing.

     "There's so many of them."

     "And they're half full of water and mud, which won't make
searching any easier.  Well, let's get going."

     Candy peered down, close to the edge of the nearest trench.
The waterlogged ground began to give under her feet and Chris caught
her by the arm. "Whoa. Wouldn't want you to fall in there, that's
about six feet straight down into mud."

     "Thanks."  For a moment their eyes met and to them the world
just stopped.

     "Um... I think we should be getting on with the search."

     "Yeah, me too,"  Candy replied, a little breathlessly.

     They split up, walking carefully down the length of each
trench, looking as best they could through the standing water, mud and
debris.

     Suddenly Chris called out.  "Hey. Over here!"  He was crouched
down by the end of a trench.

     "What is it?"

     "I think it's a body."  With a solemn look at her, he jumped
down into the trench, covering himself with mud in the process.  He
spat mud from his mouth and leaned over the prostrate form.

     Only by the size did Chris assume that the body was female.
With his heart pounding, he turned the still form over.  Candy watched
as he remained motionless for a long moment.  "Is it Dana?"

     He looked up at her, his relief obvious.  "No. No, it isn't.
Someone older, with a lot of jewelry on - well, what's left of it
anyway.  Maybe the companion of the guy that lost his arm.  Look, I'm
coming up to try to find something to mark this place.  When the
sheriff comes, he'll be able to find the body to pick it up."  He
clambered out of the trench and trotted several yards away to a
boulder, which he began to roll toward the trench.  Tiring of the slow
progress, he lifted the rock and staggered back.

     Candy was staring at something in the trench she had been
searching.  He came up behind her with the rock. "What is it?" She
could hear the effort in his voice.

     "Put that boulder down before you strain something you'll
regret.  I thought I saw something move down there."

     Chris dropped the rock and peered over the edge.  "Must have
been your imagination."  He rolled, kicked and pushed the rock over to
the side of the trench containing the woman's body, marking it for the
search and rescue teams to come.

     Candy continued to stare down to the far end of the trench.
Then it moved again.  "Chris, Chris!  There's someone alive down
here."

     He ran over and jumped blindly into the trench.  He turned the
struggling person over carefully. "My God!"

     "What, who is it?"

     "It's Dana!"

     Chris gently wiped the mud from her face and eyes with the one
clean corner of his jacket. "Dana, it's me, Chris.  Where's your
partner?  Where's Mulder?"  Her whole body jerked as she coughed.

     "I...don't know.  He was with me.  He dug a hole in the side
of the trench and we crawled in.  The wind - it was so strong.  He was
dragged..."

     "Sshh, it's okay.  Stay still for a minute."  He carefully
held her and checked her body for broken bones.  "Candy, go to the
jeep and get the first aid kit and a blanket and bring them back here.
Then get on the phone, call the sheriff, and tell him to get an
ambulance out here.  Tell him we have a body, a missing person and
someone with injuries.  Go!"  Candy stared at him in shock, her mind
mostly on where Mulder could be, and in what condition.  Then she ran
for the jeep.

     Fairly sure she had no broken bones, Chris and Candy got
Scully out of the trench.  Throughout the procedure she was protesting
that they should leave her to find Mulder.  By some miracle, other
than some extensive bruising and lots of scratches and cuts, she
seemed unharmed.  But she was shaking with cold and shock, and far
more pale than he had ever seen her.  Chris had a hard time keeping
her quiet and still, and at the same time attending to Candy, who was
certain that Mulder was dead somewhere under all the mud.

     The sheriff and emergency crew were out there in record time,
but even so, the daylight had faded.  Chris didn't even bother
reasoning with Scully, but helped her to the stretcher and told the
crew to get her to Thunder Butte.

     "Hold it right there," she said to the attendants in her best
doctor tone.  "Chris, we have to find Mulder, he's probably hurt."
Almost to herself, she murmured, "He always gets hurt.  He needs me."

     "Dana, I promise I will conduct the search myself.  Based on
what you told me about the water and Candy's observations about the
storm, he's probably not far from here."

     "I can help you.  I've been trained in this sort of thing. And
there's no other doctor here."

     "Listen, Ms. FBI.  I've worked with the Red Cross for quite a
while now and I've conducted a lot of searches.  You aren't going to
do anybody any good being here.  Go get checked out by the doctor in
Thunder Butte, and get into some warm, dry clothes.  You don't realize
it, but you're in shock."

     "After I'm checked out, I'm coming back here."  Seeing his
expression, she stopped his protest.  "Chris, I have to... Mulder's my
partner, and he saved my life."  He cupped his hand to her face.  He
had lost a partner, a friend - more - to a storm, and knew what she
was feeling.

     "Yes, of course.  Now go."  He nodded at the attendants and
they slid her in the back of the waiting vehicle.

     He stood and watched, buffetted by the cold wind, as the red
tail lights of the ambulance disappeared in the distance.


End of Chapter Seven



Chapter Eight

Near Thunder Butte
Friday
6:00 p.m.


     When the water flash flooded the trench, sweeping them from
their shelf, Mulder had had a hard enough time protecting Scully, let
alone himself.  In moments, the current had torn her from his grasp,
separating them.  Figuring all those laps in the Bureau's pool should
be worth something, he let the current take him.  What he hadn't
counted on was that the trench had no outlet.  The force of the water
hurled him against the cement-hard wall at the end of the trench like
a rag doll.  The last thing he remembered was a huge wave of water
heading right for him.

     He found himself covered in mud and face down. He looked up
and saw that the stars were shining against a moonless, pitch-black
sky.  He slowly turned himself over and tried to inhale the cold fresh
air, quite a change from the slow suffocation of the mud. Instead, he
started to cough and nearly passed out again.  He slowly and gingerly
ran his hand down his chest wall, inspecting his ribs, and confirming
what he already suspected.  "Great," he rasped.  The temperature was
dropping rapidly, near freezing now, and he was soaked to the skin.
His right shoulder felt like it was on fire and his midsection hurt
like hell.  As he slipped into unconsciousness again, his last thought
was that, all things considered, passing out didn't seem like a bad
alternative.


Near Thunder Butte, South Dakota
Friday
6:30 p.m.


     Scully got back to the search command area within an hour of
her departure and found Chris pouring over a map with the Sheriff.

     "Did you find him?"  she demanded.

     "Dana, what are you doing here?"  He walked over to her and
made her sit down on some crates.

     "I told you I was coming back. What are you doing here?  Why
aren't you out looking?  How many do you have searching?  Did you set
up search teams?"

     "We're doing what we can.  It's getting colder out and
with no light, it's going to be difficult."

     "Well, he's got to be in the trench.  The water had to go
somewhere."

     "Dana!"  He waved his arms in the air, gesticulating wildly.
"Each trench stretches for almost a quarter of a mile, and everything
is embedded in mud.  We're doing everything we can do, but in the
dark, with all that mud...."

        She pushed him away. "You bastard, that's my partner out there,
and my friend!  If you even *think* about ending this search...."

     "What?  What are you going to do?  Shoot me?"  Chris
understood her rage.  When Meg was killed he tried desperately to go
through the wreckage.  He refused to believe that she was dead.  They
physically had to pull him away,and for days all he could think about
was going through the wreckage.  "Dana, listen to me.  I understand
how you're feeling.  We aren't giving up. But you have to be patient.
Stay here.  When we find him, then it will be your turn.  I'm going to
go to the end with a crew and maybe we'll find him down there.  Okay?"

     She mumbled something under her breath and nodded yes.  Her
shoulders slumped in defeat.  "Where's Candy?"

     "She's down in the trenches, looking.  I've got to go."  He
turned, grabbed a flashlight and waved to a group of guys that were
standing around a thermos of coffee.  All of them trotted off down
toward the end of the trench.  Scully sat there and stared aimlessly
into space, wishing, praying Mulder was okay, and hating Candy because
she could help with the search.

                               - - - - -

     Mulder struggled to stay conscious as long as he could.  He
thought he could hear voices in the distance, and see the beam of
flashlights.  But each time he drew a breath to call out, the black
closed in again.  Each time he came to, his first thought was finding
Scully.  She just had to be okay.

                               - - - - -

     Chris and his two companions neared the end of the trench.
The two volunteers were moaning and groaning about everything, and he
was close to losing his temper.  He was angry at them for complaining,
angry at the weather, angry at his helplessness, and angry that he
would probably have to tell Dana that her best friend - her lover, for
all he knew - was dead.

     They were using the same techniques that avalanche rescuers
used, sticking long poles into the mud, hoping to find something that
didn't belong there.  Most everyone agreed that search was probably
hopeless.  Even if Mulder had survived the tornado, exposure to the
falling temperatures would be fatal.  But Dana wasn't giving up, nor
was he.

     Chris tripped over what he thought was a root, but shining his
flashlight down, he noticed a mud-covered shoe.  "Hey, over
here. Quick!"  Digging the mud from around the body, he found an arm
and placed shaking fingers to the wrist.  A pulse - weak and thready -
but at least he was alive.  The two volunteers arrived, huffing and
puffing, their complaints finally stopped. "You, go get a stretcher
and blankets.  We need to get him out of here - now."  The taller of
the two ran off down the trench, yelling "We found him!  We found
him!" over and over.

     Chris and the second man gently lifted Mulder out of the
trench and gingerly laid him on the grass, then boosted themselves up
to the level of the prairie.  Chris took off his jacket, draping it on
the unconscious man and instructed the nameless volunteer to do the
same.  Placing the flashlight on the ground, he noted Mulder's ashen
face.  It didn't look good.

     Scully tried running but her whole body hurt too much.  The
Sheriff, out of shape for several years, puffed along beside her.  The
EMT's reached Mulder first and placed him on a gurney.  By the time
Scully got there, he had been surrounded by hot packs and covered with
blankets, and was beginning to stir.  She bent over him. He reached
his hand up to her face, hardly daring to hope.

     "Scully?"  The voice was barely audible.

     She just had to touch him, then was sorry she had.  He was ice
cold.  "Oh, Mulder."  Tears welled up in her eyes.

     The medics began to roll the stretcher over the uneven ground.
Scully walked beside it, never relinquishing her grasp on Mulder's
hand.  Thoughts of his last hypothermic episode, in the Arctic,
invaded her mind, stealing away her hope.  An emergency chopper was on
its way, but for now they just hoped that the warmth of the ambulance
and the IV fluids they would give him would do some good.  And that it
would be enough.

                                       - - - - -

Washington, D.C.
One month later


     When Mulder walked into the office, his partner was already
there.

     It was his first day back since their ordeal in South Dakota.
Once again, it had been close, very close.  He had been taken directly
to Rapid City, the nearest place with a trauma team equal to the task
before it.  It had been touch and go for a while, until they
discovered the source of the internal bleeding which made so many
transfusions necessary.  Once the surgery for the ruptured spleen was
over, he stabilized, but remained seriously ill for the next ten days
with an aspiration pneumonia from inhaling the filthy water of the
trench. The first two days, Scully was in the hospital as a patient
herself, receiving antibiotics for the same reason.  After her
discharge, she never actually left the hospital, just moved to the ICU
where her status as a medical doctor allowed her the special privilege
of being able to stay with Mulder constantly.  She half suspected that
the nurses had insisted, after trying to deal with her unruly partner
when she wasn't around.  When coughing wracked his body, she gently
splinted his chest, to try to somehow diminish the agony of his
fractured ribs.  She checked his chart more often than his own doctor,
and sorely tested the patience of the nurses who began to regret their
earlier decision to give her unlimited access to the unit.

     Finally, two weeks after the Thunder Butte tornado, they flew
home together.  Scully had been by his apartment daily since his
release from the hospital to make sure he was truly taking it easy,
and each time scolding him because he wasn't.

     "Hey!"  Her eyes lit up when he walked into the office.
Personally, she thought it was too soon for him to be back, but at
least in the office she had more control over him than when he was at
home.  "How ya feelin'?"

     He didn't answer immediately, then nodded as though he had had
to think about it. "Better."  He walked over to his desk and noticed
the falling stack of interoffice envelopes and memos, and file
folders.  He sighed, then abruptly stopped because of the sharp pain
in his chest.  He instinctively put his hand to his slow-to-heal ribs,
then quickly dropped it, hoping she hadn't noticed.

     "You okay?"  She had noticed.

     "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."  He gingerly sat down on his desk.  He
knew she had sat for days by his bedside.  Much of what happened
immediately after his rescue - the helicopter trip, the ER, the
surgery - he remembered only in seconds-long nightmare flashbacks.
His one abiding memory of the experience was that whenever he opened
his eyes, she was there - harranguing the nurses, arguing with his
doctors, injecting pain medication, or simply dozing in a chair next
to his bed, holding his hand.  So if she was being a little
over-protective, so what, he thought.  She had earned the right.  She
was his partner.

     "Well, this may give you a relapse.  Skinner wants to see us
sometime this morning."

     "Did he say why?"

     "No.  But I can hazard a guess."  She crossed the room to sit
on his mail-strewn desk.  What are you going to tell him?"

     "I don't know."  He had spoken to Skinner in the hospital and
needless to say, this meeting was going to be a continuation of that
conversation.  The AD wasn't too happy with the outcome of the case
and wanted a full report when they got back.  As so often happened,
there wasn't any evidence to substantiate his theories and he had to
lobby hard to get this case approved.

     "Well..."  she sighed and tried to think of something
comforting to say to him, but drew a blank.  She squeezed his
hand and went back to the report on her desk.

     They went upstairs at the appointed time.  Skinner dressed
down his two best agents with his eyes.  "Agent Mulder, do you care to
explain what happened out in South Dakota?"  Mulder shifted nervously
in the chair.  Skinner had him by the balls this time.

     "Well, sir.  Agent Scully, Dr. McDermott and myself went to
investigate the occurrence of unexplained, unseasonal cyclonic
storms."

     "I'm aware of that - I signed the voucher.  Now, give me a
good reason why I shouldn't write up either of you for misuse of
government funds?"

     "Well, we..."  he looked to Scully for help.  Thankfully, his
silent plea was answered.

     "Sir, it wasn't a complete waste.  While we were there, I was
able to help with the emergency relief with the Red Cross."

     "Yes, I know."  He extended a crisp sheet of paper across the
desk to her.  "I have a letter of commendation for you from the Red
Cross Director of Rapid City."  She took the paper, blushing slightly.
"Agent Mulder, explain to me again how you two ended up in the middle
of nowhere, resulting in your injuries."

     Mulder sighed, carefully this time.  "We went to Ellsworth AFB
and talked to a Colonel Richardson."  A thought flashed through his
mind that all this was in the report, why was he having to retell the
story. Again.  "A Major Harrison detained us, held us captive for
almost 24 hours in inhumane conditions.  Then we were driven out onto
the prairie and abandoned.  They had put homing devices in our clothes
at one point, though I am still unclear when that happened.  Then they
focused a storm on our location."

     "They 'focused a storm' on your location," repeated the AD
slowly.  His dark eyes glittered, his gaze pinning them to their
chairs.  "It may interest you to know, Agent Mulder, that I called
Ellsworth AFB and there is no Colonel Richardson - hasn't been for two
months, since he was killed in an automobile accident.  As for Major
Harrison, he denied ever hearing of you and stated that there is no
record of your visit to his base.  He also denied the capability to do
any weather studies beyond what they would need to know for the
airbase to function."

     "Obviously, sir, he wasn't going to admit that he tried to
murder two Federal agents," Scully protested.

     "Sir, they've covered up the evidence, surely you can see
that.  You know how these people work."  It was happening to him again
and Mulder was finding it hard to contain his anger.  "Do you think we
were out there for a nice walk?  We were almost killed!"

     "Agent Mulder, I can only go on what I see - that you two went
on a wild goose chase.  In the future, I expect evidence and facts to
support your theories.  The next time either of you present a case for
my review and approval, you'd better have more than just a few
newspaper clippings and hearsay from a supposed expert.  Do I make
myself clear?"

     "Yes, sir."

     "Yes, sir."

     "Good, you're both dismissed.  I want a detailed report on my
desk by the end of the week.  This report you handed in is totally
unacceptable."  He handed back the government issue folder back to
Mulder.  The two agents left, closing the door behind them with
somewhat more force than was necessary.  Skinner sat back in his
chair, staring after them, his brow furrowed.  Then he reached for his
phone.

     Scully and Mulder worked silently on their reports, trying to
include as much detail as possible.  When their initial outrage had
faded, they began to wonder once more about their boss's place in the
picture.  They had met Skinner's wrath before and what they had just
experienced was nothing.  They were becoming masters at seeing beyond
the enigmatic facade that Skinner could assume, for reasons of his
own.  This time they figured that the AD also believed there was
something going on, but there was pressure from above.  But the office
was not the place to discuss it.

     There was a knock at the door and they were both startled to
see the two figures in the doorway.

     "Candy!"  exclaimed Mulder.

     "Chris!" smiled Scully.

     Candy walked over to Mulder, kissing him and then enveloping
him in a huge bearhug. Mulder winced and pulled away in pain, then
tried to cover his reaction.  Chris walked over and gave Scully a
polite peck on the cheek.

     "How did you two get in here?"  asked Scully.

     Chris laughed. "I told the guard we had an appointment.  When
they found out who we were visiting, they let us go right through, and
they even gave us directions."

     "Probably didn't even make you go through the metal and bomb
detector, either," Mulder muttered.

     "We thought we would invite you two to dinner," said Candy.
She stood at Mulder's side and gave his butt a discrete but friendly
squeeze.  It served only to remind the poor battered agent that he
wasn't well enough for a repeat performance of the last time they had
'dinner'.

     Chris turned to Scully, "Yeah, we wanted to celebrate with our
closest friends."

     "Celebrate?  Celebrate what?"

     "Our engagement."  Candy held out her hand for Mulder's
inspection.

     "No hard feelings, I hope, Mulder,"  said Chris.

     "No, I'm very happy for you.  But if you don't mind, I'd like
a raincheck."

     "But, Scorpy!   Why?"

     "I'm just not feeling up to it. First day back at work, you
know....  Congratulations, though."  He sat down gingerly in his
chair.

     "Scully, you want to come?"  Chris grabbed her hand.

     "I think I'll take that raincheck too.  There's so much here
to catch up on."  Chris understood perfectly what she really meant -
that she wanted to keep an eye on Mulder.

     "Alright then, maybe when Candy and I get back."

     "Back?  Back from where?"

     "Yeah, we're going to do some refugee work in Ethiopia."

     "Oh, Chris.  But what if...."  Scully put her hand on his arm,
remembering the horrible story of what happened to the love of his
life the last time he was far from home.

     "It's okay, Dana.  There are no tornadoes or monsoons there.
Besides, I think I can do the most good there."

     "Candy," asked Mulder, "What about your career?"

     "Chris is my career now.  Where he goes, I go.  Besides, I'm
sure they could use the help of an accomplished meteorologist."

     "Hey babe, we have an appointment in half an hour, we'd better
get going."  Candy bent down to kiss Mulder gently on the cheek and
Chris did the same with Scully.

     After they left, Scully turned toward Mulder who looked lost
in thought.  "Are you okay about that?  Their getting married and
all?"

     He snorted.  "Couldn't be okay-er.  I give it two months."

     She went over and perched on the edge of his desk.  "Is that
your natural-born cynicism talking?  Or sour grapes?"  She grinned
impertinently down at him.

     "No. Chris is stuck with the sour grapes, and good luck to
him."  He looked up, catching her gaze, a warm, almost shy smile
softening his features.  "No, what I have is far sweeter."

     Scully felt a warm flush suffusing her from the toes
up. Neither said anything for several long minutes.  Finally, Mulder
broke the silence.

     "How about I buy my favorite partner dinner tonight?  In any
restaurant you choose."

     "Mulder, I'm your ONLY partner."

     "And my favorite."

     The door closed behind their darkened office.


The End of Twister