Title: Future Past Perfect Author: Spookykat Rating: PG-13 (Language, content) Spoilers: Dreamland I&II (can't think of any others right now) Keywords: XF/Quantum Leap Crossover; MSR, Doggett/Scully friendship Summary: A short time before Mulder's abduction but before "All Things" takes place, time traveler Dr. Sam Becket trades souls with Dana Scully in order to save Mulder from being killed in SC, and uncovers some of the Truth that's out there in the process with the help of Doggett and The Lone Gunmen. This is a finishipper Quantum Leap/X-File crossover set pre- abduction by Spookykat. You may email me if you wish at Suicidal_mickey_mouse@hotmail.com If you are not aware of Quantum Leap, I try to clue readers in as much as possible on the posts, and there are reruns on the scifi channel as well as usa cable networks. Just picture a male version of Scully and you've got Sam. Picture Mulder older and a little rougher around the edges, and you've got Al. **disclaimer: The X-Files and all characters thereof belong to Chris Carter, 1013 productions, and the FOX Television Network. Quantum Leap and all characters thereof belong to Donald P. Belesario, Belesarius Productions, and the NBC Television Network. Washington D.C., FBI Building May 17, 2000 9:35 AM ******************************* Dr. Sam Becket wasn't quite sure how long he had been traveling without a road. Time was no longer his map. He lived only days at a time--From one situation to the next. Years did not happen to him. Even if they did, he couldn't remember them anyway. The part of his brain that recalled past events was scrambled. Maybe this time, he'd find his way home. But when the world solidified again, Sam found himself standing in front of a desk. "Scully...Scully, you okay? You look like you've never seen me before." Sam blinked through his new host's eyes to find a young man with fair skin, hazel eyes underneath fashionable glasses, and modestly styled brown hair looking up at him from his desk, apparently concerned. Dr. Becket's theories of Time Travel had lead him to the development of a highly classified government project dubbed Quantum Leap, incorporating Einstein's Relativity theories into quantum physics. The end-result of which was a Time Machine, and the Time machine had sent him in front of this desk, into the body of someone else. "Yeah. I'm fine." Sam answered, having no idea how fitting that response was. He looked down to see feminine hands and suppressed a groan, praying that this man wasn't going to try to steal a kiss or hit on him. He glanced around at his new surroundings. Leaping as many times as he had gave him plenty of practice covering up disorientation that usually resulted. He had leapt in during everything to performing a piano concert at Carnegie Hall to participating in a beauty pageant to the being shot at during middle of a battle. Leaping into an office was a nice change of pace. He was in a dark office with a low ceiling that had only one desk and no windows. The desk was piled with what must be more than to its capacity of papers. There was a wrinkled and frayed poster that had a UFO on it that affirmed "I WANT TO BELIEVE" pinned to the wall behind the young man's head. Sam tried to hide a quizzical expression as he looked up to see twenty or so pencils suspended by their points on the ceiling. The young man popped a sunflower seed and began cracked it between his teeth, as if it turned the key to the wheels in his mind. Sam wondered what it was he wanted to believe. "Of course you're fine." The young man answered wryly. "I wouldn't expect anything else from you, Scully. You could be hanging onto life by a thread and you'd be *fine.*" The young man snorted in frustration and went back to being engrossed in whatever was in the manila folder he was reading, thankfully missing the eye language. He gave Sam a smile with an odd mix of concern and frustration, eyes waiting for one of his partner's usual comebacks. Sam guessed from the young man's demeanor around him and the way he reacted with this woman that they spent a lot of time together. Odds are they shared a lot, in which case he was going to have to be careful with what he said, and judging from the way he was so absorbed in the contents of the folder, he loved his work. Aggravated that the response that he was expecting never came, the young man arose and shrug into a slightly-wrinkled jacket that was carelessly hung on the chair he was sitting on. "Skinner wants us. We better get going." On the way out the door, Sam glanced at the front to see "Fox Mulder" in bold black letters against a brass nameplate. He wondered what sort of mother would curse her child with a name like that as he followed him briskly down unvarying corridors, trying to memorize the route to the office of whoever Skinner was. Looking around, seeing the official pictures and memorabilia, he realized he was in the FBI building. At least now he knew half of who he was, he knew where he was, but he didn't know why he was here. He needed to find out exactly why he had lept into this Scully woman, and what he needed to do to leap. "Who knows?" He thought. "This might be the leap home." Ever since the project began, that's what he had to believe. May 17, 2015 9:35 AM Roswell, New Mexico; Project Quantum Leap Headquarters ******************************************************** Al Calavici, clad in a zebra striped hat with matching pants, a royal blue shirt, and a red leopard-spotted jacket gnawed on his Cuban, mulling over the report that had just been handed to him. The Admiral was somewhat infamous around Dr. Becket's project for his outrageous wardrobe. He was a short older man, with a swanky demeanor, always smoking a Cuban, which seemed to be an appendage. He walked into the imaging chamber, holding a document in a manila folder, nodded a greeting to Goushie, Al's odd-looking underling. Al figured that whomever Sam had leapt into would be recovering from the leap by now, and would be able to give them more information to go on. "Dr. Scully?" He barely had a chance to introduce himself before Scully-who-was-Sam clinched her jaw. With her arms folded, she let out an exasperated sigh, and shot Al an incredulous glare. "Are you people from the NSA? Who put you up to this?" All Al could do was freeze. Mulder—that was the guy in the file, wasn't it? "What the *HELL* is going on here! Mulder! Langly!" She cried out into the air. "This *ISN'T* funny! A little bit *LATE* for April Fools' Day, don't you think? Whatever I did, Mulder, I'm sorry. You were right. Little green men *DO* exist. Let's go home now!" She started to march out the door. Al raised an eyebrow and blocked her path. He noted rising anxiety in the voice, and waited for her to calm down. Anger and anxiety were not abnormal after experiencing disorientation when new Leapers went through the imaging process. He knew Sam too well to know that it wasn't his old friend speaking. "Did Byers put you up to this?" Her jaw was clinched and her voice was low with anger. Al, of course, had no idea who Byers was. "Alright," Scully lunged at Al and was glaring at him, and doing everything but grabbing him by the collar. "Give me the ruby slippers so I can click my heals and we can go HOME!" anger lowered Scully's voice an octave or two. "Frohike?!" She called to the air. "Dr. Scully," He spoke with steady detachment, trying to calm her down, looking her frankly in the eyes. He sighed in frustration. If Scully wasn't going to cooperate there wasn't much chance with doing whatever it is Sam needed to do for her. "Here are the ruby slippers. Just tell me anything you can about Agent Fox Mulder." "Byers!" Scully was getting worried now. Al could tell he had struck a chord in her by mentioning her partner. She lunged at him again. "I'm not telling you a *thing* until you tell me where I am, where Mulder is, and what we are doing here." Dr. Dana Scully was definitely not going to make this easy. Still, Al *had* to ask... "What's a Frohike?" *FBI, 2000, 5 Minutes later* It wasn't long before Sam found himself taking the chair beside Mulder in front of a tall man with olive skin, a wreathe of peppery gray hair, and thin-rimmed glasses behind a desk. He took a deep breath, templed his hands beneath his chin. "Mulder...how do you explain this case report? Do you genuinely expect me to believe that aliens were involved in this? It took every part of him not to glare at the young man increduliously and Sam choked down a gasp. Every ounce in his being wanted to laugh and scream all at once. *ALIENS!* Instead, he only managed to mumble "Oh boy!" -Quantum Leap Headquarters - Scully shot him a glare that made Al very glad she was unarmed and that he was. Not that he hadnt received looks like that before from women. Al was also followed around the project by a reputation for being an open pervert. "Dr. Beeks..." Al motioned the Project's psychologist to come over. A dark form briskly came forward, with a pleasant mix of assuredness and comfort in her disposition. They were whispering in conspiratorial tones. Scully was eyeing them conspicuously. Scully was getting worried now. Al's urgent tone told her she needed to find Mulder fast; she wished with everything in her that she had a gun on her. A snap of the trigger is a great psychological technique. It would have given her answers a whole lot faster. "Can you tell me what's going on here?" She asked futiley. "Not quite." was all Dr. Beeks could respond. "It's against regulations Agent." "Against regulations?!" Scully echoed angrily. "Admiral, doctor, if anyone is being detained against their wills, believe me, full penalties for all involved in this will be persued. I am not leaving without some information as to why I'm being held here." Al flashed Dr. Beeks one of his famous "I told ya she's a hot one!" looks. Dr. Beeks raised an eyebrow in a mix of 'down boy' and agreement. Dr. Beeks raised a hand gently, trying to calm Scully down. "Look, Dr. Scully... We don't have your partner. I can't tell you who Langly or Byers are. I don't know of any other way to convince you that this isn't a joke. Al waved her to stop. "Agent...we need your help. Arguing with us isn't going to solve anything...only making yours and our situations more complicated." "Mulder?! Complicated situations?! Never?!" Scully cracked a smile at the thought of yet again getting her partner out of a sticky situation. Scully wasn't going to give them any information on this one. Her voice was low and angry now. Her jaw was clinched in frustration. "If this is some kind of cover- up…" She folded her arms and pursed her lips with impatience. Then, disposing of her combative posture, she tried a different approach. "I'll make a deal with you here. I'll give you the information you need if you let me go with you to help him. If this is a hoax, then we'll all go home. If it isn't a hoax, I can do my usual you can do your usual, and can go home." "Dr. Scully. Can you wait here a minute?" Al escorted Dr. Beeks just outside the room. "Dr. Beeks, what if we told her the truth? This woman's not going to just lie down and accept what we tell her. She thinks she's protecting Mulder by withholding information from us. She's not gullible. I need some way to get her to give us information, and fast, so I can tell Sam what he needs to know." "I'll do my best, Admiral." Dr. Beeks replied. "We'll see what Ziggy can find. In the meantime, drop in on Sam and tell him what we've got so far." "Aliens?" Sam asked dryly. This guy was completely NUTS!! Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wondered if Scully would believe anything this Mulder guy was saying. He listened to Mulder's wild theory as they wound down the corridor. According to Mulder, their new case was an alien virus. Mulder's eyes danced as he watched Sam's face wrinkle and widen in obvious disbelief. "Scully, originally, they thought that DNA were viral infections. What if they were right the first time? What if colonization is happening through this virus?" Sam only huffed and shook his head in disbelief as they approached the office. "Haven't you heard of Occum's Razor?" Sam suggested, opening the door. Al was already waiting for Sam inside the office, invisible to Mulder. He leered with a cigar in tow. "Hello beautiful!" He crowed and quickly tapped the ashes on the floor. Sam made a face in his general direction, glad for Al's sake that Mulder couldn't see or hear the hologram. "Can I have a word with you, gorgeous? Your place or mine, sexy?" Al chuckled. With a push of a couple of buttons, he popped out. "We've been through that, Scully!" Mulder was saying. One thing you could say for him, Sam thought, he wasn't gullible. Paranoid schizophrenic, maybe...but not gullible, and definitely out to prove something with everything he did. Sam could tell Mulder was barely keeping his feet from jumping up and down with excitement as he started the slide projector and began explaining theories. As much as Mulder irritated Sam, there was something about his enthusiasm and drive that was contagious. "There's simply no logical explanation for these deaths, Scully." Mulder handed him three autopsy reports. "I like the part where it says the virus is of no known origin. So...keep me honest...what's your opinion?" Sam was really glad he had a medical-doctor's stomach as Mulder flipped through the slides, and more than half-surprised that Mulder wanted his opinion. The faces weren't even recognizable--eaten through all the way with what looked like acid. Mulder walked away from the slide projector and popped a few sunflower seeds in his mouth. "Mulder, a human could have done this, or maybe a carnivorous fungus. I tell you what? While I look at these reports, why don't you go get us some coffee." "Sure. Fine. Whatever." Mulder mocked, and sold Sam and Al the time they needed to evaluate the situation. "Al!" Sam hissed. Al appeared in his imaging chamber door, wolf- whistling. Sam glowered at him. "So what's the deal, Al? Here I was thinking I was finally going to have a nice quiet leap, but then this Mulder guy blabs endlessly about aliens! Tell me what I'm supposed to do so I can leap out of here." "You are Dr. Dana Katherine Scully, Mulder's partner at the FBI here in Washington, D.C. It is May 17, 2000..." "Something that I *don't* know?" Mulder came back with the coffee. "So what do you think, Scully?" Mulder asked again, handing him a cup. Sam nodded a thanks and gulped down a few sips. Al punched a few buttons on the handlink that fed him information from the project's database. His eyes widened when the whirring and beeping of the handlink finally stopped. "In five days, Mulder is shot and killed in South Carolina." The wheels were already turning in Sam's head, trying to figure out how he could stop Mulder from going to South Carolina when Mulder handed Sam Scully's plane ticket to the Charleston Airport. "We better get cracking if we're going to make the flight." Mulder was saying, and started to pack up his things, getting ready to leave. For some reason, Sam knew that all would stop this man from going on the plane was a rain delay. "Mulder, do you think it's absolutely necessary that we go to South Carolina? I mean…it's not as though we don't have enough work to do around here without this case." Sam thought he was pretty safe with that arguement, considering the mile-high stack of papers on the desk. Sam could tell by the smirk now plastered on his face that Mulder was emmensely enjoying trying to convince his partner. "Scully, how many times have I been wrong on this? Yeah, I've got paperwork longer than "War and Peace" ahead of me, but the syndicate may be behind this. If they are, it just might be proof we need to bring them to justice." "After all they've done to you, to everything...how can you not want them stopped?" Sam hid his face to hide his confusion, thankful that Mulder took it as an opportunity for his partner to gain composure. "The airport in two hours, then?" Sam reluctantly nodded, wishing Al would come back with more information and wondering who in the world the syndicate was, and what they had done to Scully. Mulder was one of the good guys, and Sam knew he couldn't let anything happen to him. Project Quantum Leap Headquarters "Frohike is a who--not a what, not that that warrants an answer." Scully fumed. Al looked embarrassed. Scully was proud of herself that she was holding the cards. They couldn't do anything without her information--and the only thing that would have made Scully consent would be hypnosis against her will, especially if it was information needed to get to Mulder. "That's not how this project works, Dr. Scully. We can't let you come with us. I'm the only one allowed to be with Dr. Becket, and even that isn't direct contact." Al was saying calmly. "Just know we're doing everything we can to help your partner. Dr. Becket is very qualified, and it is in Mulder's best interest that you tell us what you know about him." Scully was livid. They weren't giving her answers, and for God's sake, where was Mulder, and why did they want information on him? Al was persistant. "How can I convince you that this is real?" A smirk spread across her face as Scully contrived a plan. She knew she had them now. If this was a joke, then the boys would get a good laugh when she called and she could kill them later. If she was being detained, then of course they wouldn't let her use a phone. If Mulder was in real trouble, then they'd be able to break into their database and help. "By any chance, can I get a phone? "I don't think that's a good idea, Dr. Scully." Scully stiffened and recoiled away from Al as she realized the second scenario was true. Then Dr. Beeks came over. "Admiral, it may be the only way she'll give us any information." She handed him a phone, calling Scully's bluff. "Let her find out for herself." "Let me find out *what* for myself?" Scully demanded. She took the phone as if it were going to explode. Dr. Beeks and Al both had expressions on their faces as if they were waiting anxiously for test results as she dialed the numbers. "Yo! What's the deal?" Frohike answered. "Hey boys, can you see what you can find about Admiral Calavici and a Dr. Beeks?" Frohike's muffled hiss came over the phone. Al and Dr. Beeks watched Scully's quizzical expression as she wondered why Frohike was whispering. "Who is this?" Frohike interrogated. "How did you get this number?" "Frohike, it's me! Hey listen, tell Mulder--" Frohike cut her off. "Mulder's been dead for about fifteen years now." Frohike was getting anxious. "Who is this?" Then, he muffled the receiver, "Langly--!" Scully abruptly hung up and froze, immediately paling. "Could you tell me what is going on here?" Scully managed to croak out in a huffed whisper. *************************************************************** Over the years, Sam had developed techniques for getting to the homes of the people he was leaping into without having to drive aimlessly for hours. If Mulder hadn't bolted off as quickly as he had, Sam would've feigned car trouble and asked for a ride home. Now he was going to have to find her driver's licence to look for an address to tell a cabby. Unfortunately for Sam, Scully didn't carry a purse. It would have been a little bit easier for him to get a feel for who this lady was if she had been the sort of woman to carry one. The click and sweep of Al's chamber door opening made him start. "We're having a little trouble getting information out of Dr. Scully. She's feisty!" Al took a puff of his cigar and grinned. "You're *NOT* helping." Al had a knack for using his sense of humor to get on Sam's nerves, especially when things were *not* going well. "The contents of a woman's heart can be found in her purse." Sam glared at him, making Al very glad he was a hologram so that he couldn't be punched in the nose. "Of course..." Al continued, "the contents of a man's heart can be found in his...uh...nevermind. She doesn't carry a purse." "Could you get your mind out of the gutter for two seconds here?" Sam hissed, pacing like something caged. After a few minutes of digging around, Sam struck gold. In the left inside pocket rooming with a clipper, Sam found a very organized wallet thankfully containing enough money to hail a cab. He finally got to see what the woman he had lept into looked like in the rear view mirror of the cab from the backseat. In his reflection, he saw Scully's straight auburn hair framing a fair-skinned oval face with topaz blue eyes. Al sat on the passanger side, even climbing in after him. "If you aren't going to help here, then I suggest you go back and try to get information from Dr. Scully!" Sam hadn't realized that so loud. "Dr. Scully?" the cab driver puzzled, Sam forgot that he still had his FBI tag on Scully's lapell. "Yes--I--was--um" "Rehearsing." Al helped. "My uncle used to tell me that my 3rd...or was it my 4th?...wife would rehearse what she'd say to me when she got mad." "Reeee--hearsing?" Sam flashed a confused glance at Al. "Yeah! Uh...I was rehearsing what I'd say to my no-good gi...boyfriend when I got home." "I'd hate to be him! Hey, if it doesn't work out with you two, you give old Vito a call!" Sam hated backing himself into these corners. Leaping had complications in and of itself. Leaping into a woman was another complication altogether. "I--uh--I'll do that." He said, practically tossing him the fee and thrilled that the cabride was over. Sam could not have gotten out of the cab faster. He dug around the pocket to find a cluster of keys. He found one with her apartment number on it and opened the door. Thrilled to find it neat and organized, it didn't take him long to find a carry-on, a few business suits and the rest of the litany he would need for the trip. "Al, Dr. Scully is a member of the FBI. What are the FBI doing investigating murders linked to aliens? I didn't think anyone took that stuff seriously except for you, Hollywood and the tabloids!" Al shook his head. "We don't know, Sam. Ziggy's trying to pick the lock, but so far, we can't get in. We had to break your rule about not letting any of the leapers know about the project, because she wouldn't believe us otherwise. She's a very level- headed professional, and makes your anal-retentiveness look sloppy. My guess is you could find something about her work if you looked on her computer files." He gestured in the general direction of her computer desk. Sam fished around her desk, found a folder of disks, and close to the top was one with 'log' penciled in on the label. "I wonder if that's it?" Al chortled. "Think you'll sleep much in the hotel room tonight, Sam?" Sam made a face. "With reading material like this?" He said in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "It's numero uno on the New York Times best-seller list." Al grinned and chuckled at himself. Sam didn't feel like laughing. Having to hunt down a reasonable explaination for bodies that barely resembled humans were bad enough with a *full* night's sleep. Being hit on was arguably not that much worse of an ordeal. "Think we can get a password on this disk any time soon?" "I'll see what I can find out from the good doctor. Meanwhile, from the looks of things, sit tight, buckle your seatbelt, keep your hands inside the windows, and enjoy your flight. Don't forget to freshen up!" Before Sam could say anything in retort, Al was gone. He found a laptop in the desk drawer and packed it in Scully's carry-on with the rest of his things. Al was right, he would need a shower and change into something more comfortable. He took his time in the shower, and found some slacks and a top. Thankfully for Sam's sake, Scully wasn't the sort of woman to be frilly. Dr. Sam Beckett, inventor of a time machine, who had finely tuned the principals of quantum physics with enough PhD.'s behind his name to make alphabet soup, by some cruel twist of fate could *not* apply mascara. Quantum Leap Headquarters Al went back inside the imaging chamber to find a very shocked Scully still staring at the phone still in bits on the floor. Scully had a look as though she was as shattered as the phone was. It was a very long time before she could speak. She was shaking, "What is this? What is going on here?" She whispered hoarsely. I—-don't understand...last thing I knew, I had just gotten to the office for the day...we...he..was about to tell me his theory about the deaths in South Carolina...I...uh...there's no..." Al put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He really had sympathy for her. "Anything you know concerning circumstances around the death of Agent Mulder would be extremely helpful to us...to him...and to you. "The--*death*--of..." She repeated hoarsely for the words for them to sink in. Quantum Leap Headquarters: Henceforth known as QLHDQRTRS Scully could not--did not want--to believe what she was hearing. "I don't understand. This doesn't have any place for logic! I-- Mulder--was *fine* just a few minutes ago. A few minutes ago we were in the office. Now I give Frohike a call, and he says Mulder's been dead for 15 years. Please, Admiral--" "Al, call me Al please. Dr. Scully...all I can tell you right now is that your partner is alive." Al felt like Scully deserved to be on a first name basis after all she had just been through. "Al..." she softened. "I just want to know the truth. Please, tell me what the hell is happening here!" Al laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Let me assure you. For now, your partner is exactly how you left him. I know it isn't easy to accept on a stranger's word. But believe me, Dr. Scully--" "And it's Dana." she interrupted. After all, the man had just seen her world fall apart. How much more personal can you get than that? "Dana, we're doing everything we can right now to help your partner. For the next five days, Dr. Beckett has swapped souls with you, so to speak. This," he flung his arms opened wide "is all his invention. He's one of the most dedicated men I've ever met--" "Men? A man's taken over my body? Oh boy!" She giggled at the thought of Mulder flirting with her if he knew she were a man. That would just be weird! Al suddenly felt a pang of guilt for all his comments earlier that day. "I'm sorry. Go on, Al." "At any rate, we're doing our best to make sure that what happens to Fox—doesn't. What we need now from you is any information you can give us about Agent Mulder. It would be great if you could start with a list of possibilities as to why he might have been killed, and who might have wanted him dead." "We could be here all day." Scully said with a frustrated laugh. "We're FBI agents. We've put a lot of people in jail. And Fox Mulder isn't exactly the easiest man to get along with. He's stepped on a lot of toes over the years, including mine. Since I joined the x-files seven years ago, I've been on that list about seventy percent of the time." Then she hesitated with a guilty smile. "I even had to shoot him once." Al raised an eyebrow. She quickly defended herself. "Let me rephrase the question, then. Tell me everything you know about Agent Mulder." Scully began to relay her involvement in the x-files from the moment Mulder said "Welcome to the FBI's most unwanted." FBI Headquarters J. Edgar Hoover Building, Washington, DC-Our favorite basement office May 17, 2015. 11:15am Agent John Doggett was getting ready to grab an early lunch before making some inquiries for an x-file when the phone his cell phone rang. With a heavy sigh, he answered it. "Hey, Langly." "Frohike just got a really wicked phone call from some guy..." there was a long pause. "Langly!" Doggett was fuming. "If this is another attempt to get me to hunt down a distributor company because you got some phone pitch on your unlisted line I--" "No...nothing like that...it...just wigged us out...thought you might wanna check up on it." "Sorry about that...just in a bit of hurry, and I...uh..." "Anyway," Langly interrupted, obviously eager with his news; "this dude called Frohike's line wanting us to say something to Mulder." Doggett's attentions were undivided now. Mulder was a name he hadn't heard in fifteen years since he began investigation into his murder. Leads that followed nowhere led him to partnership with Agent Scully, which eventually put him in persuit of what his partner often called "little green men." "He wanted us to look up someone named Al--" Doggett heard the sound of paper rustling. "Calavici...Admiral, I think." "Were you guys able to get a tap on the guy?" "That would be a negative, John. We tried call-back but it didn't work. He hung up, man. We found somethin' you may wanna see on this Calavici dude." "Damn! Tell'em I'm on it. I'll see what I can do about getting another agent to handle this case, I'll be there as soon as I can." He hung up, sighed heavy as a brick, and slung his coat around his arm and gulped down the last of his second cup of coffee for that morning, pocketted his cell phone and locked the door behind him. Washington, D.C. Airport May 17, 2000, 11:45 Mulder had called an hour earlier saying he'd be there in a half an hour. "You still haven't told me your opinion on this case." Mulder started almost as soon as they got in the car. Sam was relieved that Scully shared his medical background. "Yeah, I was looking at those reports. They said that they found traces of bromide, sodium, and chlorine on those bodies...which is odd because..." "that's seawater..." Mulder interrupted. "Somebody did their homework." "Do I get an A?" Sam suppressed the sudden urge to strangle him. "Anyway, there's something else in the report..." Mulder waited for Sam's answer. "Ammonia." "House cleaner?" Sam nodded. "Maybe the killer's a neatfreak." Sam made a face in his general direction. Before they knew it, they were at the airport. Sam went to the giftshop to pick up a newspaper. He always enjoyed reading the headlines as a reference. "What made you change your mind about planes, Scully? Usually you're a nervous wreck by now. Last time you flew you were looking so bad, I was ready to investigate the airline food for alien bacteria." Sam cracked a smile. "Yeah...well...I...uh...took some dramamine." "Good!" A mischeivous grin spread across his face. "That means that while you're asleep I can flirt with the stewardesses." For a brief moment, Sam wondered if Scully wasn't the one who had murdered Mulder; at this point, he wouldn't have blamed her if she had. The flight was only two and a half hours. Sam didn't have to wait long into it before Mulder dozed off. He contended himself with reading the newspaper util he was sure that Mulder was asleep. Then gingerly got out Scully's laptop on it, and inserted the disk. Sam's curiosity was getting the best of him. He needed Al to come back with the password. There were several things about this leap that just didn't make any logical sense. What was ammonia doing with sea water? Why were the FBI investigating aliens? Maybe that answer could be a link to yet another, even bigger, and more pressing question--what was he going to do to stop Mulder from being killed? He was so deep in his train of thoughts and concentrating so hard on trying not to wake Mulder with the clicks and whirs and beeps of the computer that he didn't notice Al's chamber door open. "We got something, Sam." Sam gulped down a scream. "For once, can you give me some warning here?" "I'm sorry miss, next time I'll alert the presses when we come around with the drink cart. Perhaps you'd like me to announce it over the loudspeakers?" Sam flashed the stewardess a sheepish grin. Al was in hysterics, not ignoring his view of her as she walked past. "So? Whatchya got?" "Well...according to the local papers, they were investigating a possible alien virus in Newberry, South Carolina. Mulder makes some inquiries into the reports two days into the investigation, and isn't seen alive again. As it turns out, the x-files are the division of the FBI that investigate paranormal, unexplained, or otherwise unsolvable cases." "Dissolved human tissue would definately fit paranormal, unexplained, and otherwise unsolvable." noted Sam. "Anyway, three days later his body is found in the woods. After that, the records show that an Agent John Doggett takes over the x-files investigations at the FBI under Dana, and they stay on with the x-files for another seventeen years. During that time, she has a child, interestingly using Mulder's last name, divorces once, and later commits suicide after her child dies in a freak car accident." "So I've basically got two days to come up with someone--" "Dana said the someone isn't the hard part...she says he's got a long list of people out for his blood. You'd like her Sam--she reminds me a lot of you." "Well...then I've got two days to narrow down the list." "You want my advice?" Sam nodded. "Stick to him like fishnets to a prostitute. Sleeping Beauty over there looks like he's coming out of it. Talk to him, Sam. Get as much information as you can from Mulder. Later tonight, we'll go over the logbook to find out more. Meanwhile, I'll go back and see what I can get from you--uh--Dana. Oh, and try Starbuck for the--" Al called behind him. "One minute" then to Sam "--password--Hang on a sec!" Al yelled behind him. "From the FBI? Goushie! Tell Mr. Doggett I'll be right there!" then to Sam. "I've gotta take this call, Sam. Meanwhile, do the best you can, and have a nice flight!" With a grin and a click and a sweep of the chamber door, Al was gone. Sam could tell this was going to be a long leap. *TLG Lair* Agent Doggett kept in contact with The Lone Gunmen over the years since Mulder's murder fifteen years ago. They were weird and a bit paranoid, but they were an invaluable resource of information, and proved themselves loyal on more than one occasion to the x-files division. Doggett never really forgave himself for not finding Mulder's killer. The day they put him on the case, he promised Scully he would find him, but that turned out to be a promise he couldn't keep. Doggett sighed heavily as he made his way down the stairs and rang the doorbell. Doggett was used to all the equipment in the lair by now. The numerous padlocks on the door were second- nature to him. "Hey G-Puppy!" Langly greated him enthusiastically. "So whatchya got?" Doggett took out his glasses and crouched over the computer screen behind Langly, who was happily pecking away on the keyboard. "So this dude calls...asking us to look up Dr. Sam Becket and Dr. Al Calavici. On Dr. Becket, we have two options. He's either a playwright or a physicist. "B?" Doggett interjected "Tell him, Byers...what Deputy PuppyDog won!" Langly chirpped. Doggett flashed him an annoyed glance "Turns out that Dr. Becket is a physicist who wrote papers about time travel," Byers began, handing Doggett a novel-length stack of print-outs. "He uses Einstein's theory of relativity and quantum physics, making time no longer linear but circular using some sort of electromagnetic photon excellerator device. According to this, he headed up a project based in Roswell, NM. A highly classified and government-funded outfit dubbed Quantum Leap back in '99, and after that there's no record." "And what about Calavici?" "I have him listed here as an Admiral with involvement in the Quantum Leap project." "You got a number? "Of course!" and triumphantly handed Doggett the number for the project headquarters. "Langly, you think you can crack the project database?" "It's what I live for, G." Frohike came in just before Doggett was about to leave. "You wanna come over and watch the Nick's game with us? We're gonna hack into the scoreboard computer. It should be a blast." Frohike was as excited as Frohike gets. "As much as I'd like to, I've got homework tonight." He lifted up the stack of papers. Doggett sighed in exasperation as he found his way out, hoping Calavici would have a lead to Mulder's killer that he so desperately needed. May 17, 2001 3:04 pm In the middle of nowhere along I-26 East in SC The flight only lasted an hour and a half and Mulder was quick to get a rental car from the airport. He took his usual place in the driver's seat, and Sam took Scully's usual place in the passenger's seat next to him. An hour had gone by, and questions where reeling over and over in Sam's mind. He wanted to read a bit more of the log book, but knew that if he looked over Scully's old entries, Mulder would get suspicious. He wanted to try to get information from Mulder, and usually the best way to do that was from conversation. But how could he start a conversation with a man he had just met of whom this Scully woman was supposed to know for seven years. Mulder's driving made Sam feel a bit queasey, and more than once Sam wondered if his life was in danger from that seat. He decided it would be best for everything concerned if he let the oldies' station Mulder landed on fill the silence. The silence. Mulder couldn't understand why Scully was so silent. It wasn't the companionable silence this time that was their norm, but an uncomfortable forced silence. She kept glancing over at him. Then again, there were a lot of things about Scully that he couldn't understand...like why she stayed with him on his crusade at the FBI...like why she made meals out of salads...and why she hated Elvis. But today was different. A woman who hated flying as much as Scully did wasn't looking a bit nervous or green going onto the plane. She didn't even frown at his tie (this one featured a glow-in-the-dark picture of Einstein's face). If she hadn't objected to the case being an x- file, he would have panicked long before now. But then again...maybe he should panic. There was that look-- That look on her face this morning like Scully didn't know who he was had absolutely terrified him. And now this silence. Why was she being so quiet? He wanted desperately to try and understand why she wasn't saying anything. He rode on the unfortunate tails of other drivers along the highway. He snaked in and out of lanes at top speed. Maybe if he drove wrecklessly enough, Mulder thought, he could at least get her to rip into him. That would be something. But still Sam remained silent. And Mulder's stomach responded painfully to his concern. Scully just wasn't being--well--Scully. Before this morning, he could have bet quite easily on what she would say and do. Scully was really scaring him now. She had never been this quiet for this long. Something was definitely up. He fixated his eyes on the road trying not to show Scully how puzzled he was by her behavior, and how concerned he was for her safety--and his. If he couldn't predict her anymore as easily as he could--how could he be sure that Scully would be there when he needed her. What if he got in too deep again? He didn't think he could take it if he lost her again. He wanted more than anything to get inside Scully's head...he needed the Scully he could trust. Finally, after an hour of the blare of the radio, Mulder couldn't take it anymore. "Scully, what's wrong?" Mulder finally blurted out. "--and if you say you're fine I'll tell Frohike you've got the hots for him!" Mulder's demand jerked Sam back to reality. Who was Frohike? He was in a half-sleeping gaze on the horizon trying to come up with ways to get Mulder to give him information. "Wrong?" He asked weakly. Mulder softened with concern. "Scully...you haven't said a word the whole trip." Mulder was pleading now. "Scully... please... it's me...you've been acting like another person all day long. If something's up...please tell me. I want to help." Sam gave Mulder his customary answer whenever people acted like this. "Nothing's wrong...I'm just not quite myself is all." Sam thought, and wondered for a flash of a second what Mulder would do if he knew Scully wasn't Scully. Or what he'd do if Mulder found out. Mulder thought that was the understatement of the century. "So far away." Carole King was pleading over the radio. "Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? And it doesn't help to know that you're just time away." Mulder snuck a peak over at Sam's half-gaze and wondered exactly how far away Scully was. Sam wondered how long it would be before he got to go home. May 17, 2015 12:04 VA, in Doggett's car coming back from TLG Lair Technological advancements in the fifteen years Doggett had been working on the x-files did not include a third hand...which was unfortunate for him since he was juggling a cup of coffee, a meatball sandwich, and a cellphone with the wheel. He wolfed down the last of his sandwich, gulped down half of his coffee, and dialed his superior. "Skinner here." "Hey boss. Doggett here." "What's going on?" Skinner was very thankful that Scully hadn't told Doggett about the old nickname Mulder had for him, or if she had, Doggett didn't use it. "I got something here that you may want in on. I don't want to-- uh--tell you on the phone." Skinner's tone was anxious now. Almost immediately Doggett could tell his boss was clinching his jaw in fear. Skinner's tone was filled with dread. "Get down here as soon as possible, and we'll--" "Everything's FINE." Doggett quickly interjected. He enjoyed lighting Skinner's fuse every now and then. It was one of the perks of his job. Doggett cracked a smile as he heard Skinner heave a sigh of relief. "Look, I'll be there in a few minutes and tell you what I got." Doggett then dialed the number Langly had given him for this Admiral Calavicci. May 17, 2015; 9:24 QLHDQRTRS, Roswell NM. All the waiting was driving Scully absolutely crazy. In the project's waiting room, she paced like something caged. She barely heard the phone ring out in the hall. She flashed back to her own abduction, and suddenly understood why Mulder was so protective over her. He didn't even have the luxuries she had of knowing where she was and that she was alive. She would have to be a little easier on him when Sam returned her body to her. Still, she wanted to see him for herself. She was beginning to trust Al, but couldn't quite bring herself to believe that this Becket man was going to do as good a job as she would have on the case, or of protecting Mulder. This Becket had no idea of the degree to which Mulder could be a complete a$$-- nor how sneaky and underhanded he had been with her in the past--nor how much she needed him to be alright. Saving Mulder's life was a job to Becket. To Scully, it was a necessity. She needed to see that he was going to do her job to her satisfaction with her own eyes. Al suddenly came in with an anxious expression on his face. What Al had come to say was obviously not good news, and Scully braced herself for whatever Al was going to tell her. "Dana, who does your friend Frohike know at the FBI?" "Just me, Mulder, and our boss, Skinner. Frohike isn't exactly sociable." "You know who John Doggett is?" Scully had no idea. It did sound familiar though. Maybe she had heard it on the news somewhere. "He just called me wanting information on Mulder. I know your brain is a bit swiss-cheezed right now from the leap, but if you can remember anything at all, it would help us a lot." Dr. Beeks came over to him and ushered him asside. "Al, he was just questioning, and that's all. Please calm down. Dr. Scully doesn't need anymore shocks today. The agent has no leads, and won't investigate any further till he does." "Verbeena, I realize that, but I can't let word of the project leak out. It may leak to the press, and then the public would find out about this, and no more funds come in for the project. If the project shuts down, we leave Sam out there alone. I can't risk that." "I know Al...but please, just let us deal with that when and if the situation arises. We don't even have a problem yet. At least not with the FBI. I suggest you update Dr. Scully on Sam's progress." Al heaved a reluctant sigh and went over to Scully, and greeted her with an apologetic smile. "Dana, uh...sorry about that back there." "It's alright, I would have probably done the same thing if Mulder were stuck back there." Al finally understood the depth of the friendship between Scully and Mulder. He wondered if he should be helping Scully somehow from this end as much as Sam should help Mulder. They walked over to the couch in the waiting room and sat down. "Right now, we really don't know a whole lot more than you do as to what's going on. They're probably on their way to the case site in Newberry at this moment, so there's nothing we can do right now until Sam finds out more from Mulder. For now, nothing's changed in the reports. Just know we're doing everything we can." Scully sighed heavily. Al hated disappointing her with no news. "Al?" She paused for quite a long time. Then demanded "I need to see Mulder." In a slow, steady, determined tone. "I'm afraid that can't be arranged, Dana, I'm sorry." It was his turn to drop eye contact. He scattered a nervous sigh. "I told you before, I'm the only one allowed to see Sam." "If it can't be arranged does that mean that it is possible?" She pressed. Al didn't answer. Same day 1:07 PM J. Edgar Hoover FBI Headquarters, Skinner's office Doggett showed Skinner the doctoral theses Byers gave him by Dr. Becket. Skinner wore a very confused expression over his face as he glanced over the titles of Sam's papers. "I don't get it, Doggett. What do time travel theories and quantum physics and Einstein have to do with Mulder?" Skinner was getting impatient now. "John, I think I may have a lead as to what happened to Mulder." "Mulder? Doggett--sometime's your theories are as completely out in left field as Mulder's were. I still don't get it. What's the correlation here? Maybe that desk he used is rubbed off." Doggett was seriously enjoying watching his boss hang on to his words. He could barely hold in a grin. "Our boys got a call this morning. Now don't get your hopes up because I don't know that much at this point, and what I say can NOT, under any circumstances, be passed on to Scully." Skinner nodded. "Frohickey got a call on his cell this morning asking him to tell Mulder something." Skinner's expression urged Doggett to continue. "The boys traced the call to Roswell New Mexico at the location of a project called Quantum Leap, headed by a Dr. Sam Becket and an Admiral by the name of Albert Calavici." "Any leads?" "Nothing solid yet. That's why I don't want word of this to get to Scully." "What are you going to do about the case you and Scully are working on now?" "I'm going to ask Scully if she can handle the case while I look into this." "How are you going to get her to take the interviews without letting her in on all of this?" Doggett hadn't thought past that obstacle yet. "You think she's up to it?" "She better be...for Mulder's sake." "Alright, Agent." Skinner was trying to hide his excitement which came at the price of sounding detatched about Doggett's new information. He never really forgave himself for being even part of the reason Melissa did not know her father. Maybe, Skinner thought, the ghosts that Mulder had left behind could finally be put to rest now that investigation to his murder was finally going somewhere. "I'll see what I can do about getting Kersch to re-open the investigation. That'll be all." Almost as soon as Doggett shut the door behind him, Skinner was finding it hard to breathe. He felt his heart racing and beads of sweat pour down his face. He clutched his left shoulder and fell on his knees, doubled over in pain. ************************************************************** same day QLHDQRTRS ********* "Al..." Scully pressed. "Is it possible for me to see Mulder?" No matter what it took, Scully couldn't leave Mulder alone out on a case. "Not without losing a lot of power. If I take you with me for too long, it could wipe out any power that we've got access to. This means we can't get any data, I wouldn't be able to be in contact with Sam at all for the rest of the leap. Sam and Mulder would both be alone. And you and I would both be stranded here." "So we'd go from knowing nothing to knowing nothing?" Scully retorted. "Look, Al." Scully gave him her best tough-as-nails look. "I need to be frank with you. Mulder's very paranoid. I'm the only one he trusts. He knows me like a favorite peice of poetry. If I can't instruct Sam on exactly what I'd say or do in any given situation, he'd get suspicious and call on his resources and try and find me. And yes--he does know enough people to cook up a practicle joke on the scale I thought he had this morning when Sam first leapt into me. He's one of the sneakiest most underhanded people I've ever met, and I'm the only one who knows Mulder well enough to handle him." "Dana--now it's my turn to be frank. The way you handled it the last time around, Mulder got himself killed. Sam doesn't want that to happen again any more than we do. He's a lot like you-- and besides that, he takes every leap pretty personally. So odds are, he won't let anything happen to Mulder or the X-Files if he can help it. Either way, it's not a good idea for you to go with me. If your input is needed, we'll do what we can to get enough power to keep you with me as long as possible. But for now, the best we can do is just sit tight. I'm gonna go center on Sam right now, and then get back to you on the progress." "Al, I apologize. I've never been one to sit and wait very well, especially when it comes to Mulder. "Yeah, I know. It's alright. I'm the same way when it comes to Sam. And I apologize for being a little rough just now...I was-- " "Don't apologize for that...I needed to hear it. Let me know if something changes, ok? Got any books or magazines around here?" "We'll see what we can do about that." Al said and started in the direction of the imaging chamber. Same day FBI Headquarters Doggett came back to the basement office to find Scully waiting for him. She didn't look angry or depressed for the first time in a long while. "Afternoon, Scully." Doggett said sheepishly, and got back to hte report, hoping to avoid her asking what he had been doing that morning. "Hey Doggett. Sorry if I've been a bit out of it lately. Things are a little overwhelming right now." "Hey, listen. I've got some things to take care of this afternoon. You think you can take this case for me? It's just some simple interviews around the area, and then I'll get back on it tomorrow." Scully nodded. "Good, that's settled then. I'll see you tomorrow morning?" Doggett nodded as he flicked on the switch of his computer. "See ya when I get back, Scully." Scully waved in his general direction and headed out the door. May 17, 2001; 5:07pm Newberry Motor Lodge; Newberry, South Carolina It had been a unbearably long, painfully silent car ride. Mulder wasn't feeling any better about his partner. He noticed as she left to get them sodas while he was filling the gas tank that she wasn't walking the way she normally did. To him, she seemed to be lumbering. If Sam hadn't come back with a diet coke for himself and a regular one for Mulder, Mulder would have had no choice but to believe that the person getting into the passenger seat was not, in fact, Scully. They found a motel with relative ease, and Mulder got them two hotel rooms with adjoining doors. It wasn't long before they unloaded the car and headed to the front desk for the keys. "Can you tell me where to find the police department?" Sam asked. Mulder felt a little better about his partner now. From underneath the countertop, the hotel clerk promptly produced a nameplate bearing the name "Sherrif Aaron Hayward." "Not far from here." said Sherrif Hayward with a smile. "Good. That makes it much easier to get started. Uh, thanks Sherrif Hayward. Can you tell me what you know about these deaths?" Sam plopped the manilla folder on the sherrif's desk. At that point Mulder came over. Sam glanced nervously behind him as Mulder ushered Sam out of earshot. He cracked a smile and then in a faux southern accent twanged "Hey Barn, you wanna go get unpacked and then go over to the house and see if Aunt Bea cain't wrastle us up a mess of chitlins." Sam only glared at him. Mulder's face cracked into a wry grin. Still keeping his fake accent, he said in perfect Mulderesque deadpan, "Don't worry Scully, you're a lot purdier than Barn." Times like these made Sam wish Scully were a man. For some odd reason, Sam remembered what Mulder's reference was to. "*Ange,* if you don't shut up right now you can go to Aunt Bea's without me." Mulder was very glad to see that Scully was gradually getting back to her old self. Together, they returned to the hotel/sherrif's desk. Sam asked him again. "So what do you know about these deaths?" "They're altogether weird, Agents. I honestly don't know what to make of it." "That's why they call us, Sherrif/Innkeeper." returned Mulder. The elderly man seemed less than thrilled that feds were in on his case. Sam could sense the tension rising between the Sherrif and Mulder. He decided it would ease things a little if he kept the discussion around the case. "Sherrif, do you have any idea why there might be sea water around here?" "That's what bugs me the most about this whole mess. The closest beach around here is Myrtle. That's more than four hours away." the sherrif twanged. Sam knew he needed to see the bodies to get more evidence. "Can you show us where the morgue is." "Sure, but you won't be able to get in till Monday. The mortician has the only key, and he's huntin' till Sunday night-- and he refuses calls after 8:50. Doesn't want to be interrupted during his favorite T.V. show. It's no good tryin to get him till Monday morning." Mulder and Sam both exchanged exasperrated glances. "Scully, let's go get freshened up and then we'll go for dinner. We're not going to get anywhere on the case until the morgue opens up Monday morning. Sam nodded, and raked the key to Scully's room off the desk, relieved at the possibility of more time to read Scully's log-book. The sooner Sam could get some idea of what had happened to Scully and Mulder, the sooner he could find out why someone would want Mulder dead. May 17, 2015; 2:07pm Washington D.C., J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building Heart attack was the first thought to enter Skinner's mind as he fell to the floor. Since Mulder's disappearance the Syndicate lost touch with the FBI--at least where Skinner's agents were concerned. Doggett was slightly aware of the level of conspiracy, but never fully understood the scale of cover-up that Mulder had. Reyes and the rest of the syndicate obviously didn't think Doggett to be any sort of threat. Krycek had no interest in Doggett's affairs with the FBI either for reasons that neither Skinner nor Scully could understand. "Feel like visiting Mulder, Assistant Director?" Skinner hadn't heard it in fifteen years, but he knew who the voice belonged to. "Not today, Krycek." Krycek released his thumb from the button. Skinner struggled to get up and glared at him. "Mulder's dead, Alex. What do you want from me?" Skinner demanded weakly. Krycek's lips snaked into a smug grin and poised his thumb on the activating button. "Let's keep it that way. It's not what I want you to do, Skinner. It's what I don't want you to do." Newberry, Motor Inn. 5:32 Sam had gotten settled into Scully's hotel room. He was concerned for Mulder--not just over what would happen to him within the next few days, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Mulder was already clued into the fact that Scully wasn't who she looked like she was. It wasn't long before a knock came from Mulder's side. "You ready for dinner?" "Just about. Come on in, Mulder." Mulder was quick to open the door and chuckled as he looked down and noticed all the pantyhose on the floor. "Having trouble, Scully?" "Just--uh--weak nylon, I guess." Sam hated putting hose on when he lept into women. He winced as he put the flats on over bare feet, very thankful that Scully didn't wear heels. The only thing he hated worse than hose were heels, and was convinced that whoever invented such a torture obviously never had to wear them. He had packed five pairs of Scully's pantyhose, but managed to put a run in every last of them. "I thought nailpolish was the cure-all repair for stuff like that." "Well, I sorta forgot mine Mulder. You didn't give me much time to pack." Mulder smiled up at Sam sheepishly. "We'll stop at a drugstore after dinner and get some more." "Thanks. So where are we going? Should I bring antacid?" "I'll leave it up to you." "Thanks." Sam got the yellow pages from the nightstand and began to browse the dinner section. "It's a bribe, Scully. I figured if you like the dinner more, you just may talk to me again." It was Sam's turn to look sheepish. "What do you call this?" "Formalities, Scully." He answered coldly. Mulder had a decidedly hurt expression on his face. Sam really felt bad about the situation. It would have made his job much easier to say <"Agent Mulder, I'm not your partner of seven years Dana Scully, but a complete stranger trying to save you from getting shot on Wednesday. I'll take care of the case if you'll just stay locked up in your room until then if that's alright with you.> But that was against regulations. Half to Mulder and half to God, Sam blurted out "You have a really weird sense of humor, you know that?" Mulder chuckled slightly to himself and ushered Sam out the door, flipping off the lightswitch on the way out. "We'll see if we can find a place around here with good salad." And went to ask Sherrif Hayward where the restaraunt section of town was. May 17, 2015 J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building "Krycek, what do you mean by keeping it that way?" Skinner echoed and slowly made his way over to his desk staring incredulously up at Krycek, whose thumb was still poised over the activation button. "What you think I mean, Skinner." Krycek retorted, "Mulder's dead for a good reason. I can't let you move forward to reopen the case. That wouldn't work for me at all. Think about that while I've got my thumb over this button." He said, and glanced at the general direction of the device. Krycek taunted Skinner for a few seconds, almost touching the button a few times and then jerking it away. Then almost as suddenly as he came, Krycek abruptly left. Mulder's death left too many wounds not to let Doggett investigate any leads. Now he was almost certain that Krycek had at least a hand in it. He was tring to figure out the best way to approach Doggett about the situation when he was shaken out of his thoughts by the shrill ringing of the phone. 11:32 am QLHDQRTRS Al had popped in on Sam to make sure everything was alright. He found them still in the car going West on I-26. He found Mulder looking anxious and Sam in a half-sleeping gaze. Luckily, Mulder was too wrapped up in his own thoughts and in the music to notice the start that Al had given him. "Oldies stations have something for everyone! You know, we've seen the AM age to the FM age. You and I've seen it from week to week sometimes!" He chuckled to himself. Sam fished around in Scully's briefcase for something to write on. He couldn't very well talk to Al with Mulder hovering as he was. He found dug around and found a memopad and wrote on the first blank page he saw and scribbled the words: Anything new "Oh yeah, the pad! That's good, Sam. Mulder's gonna get suspicious if you start talking to thin air. That would really tip him off." Al loved to get under Sam's skin when he couldn't say anything back. "Dana's giving us some real trouble back there, Sam. She wants to come in here with me to see Mulder. But you know how that eats up the power supply, so we can't let her. Not only that, but that little stunt she pulled trying to find out where she was somehow tipped the FBI." Sam doodled a huge question mark and an arrow leading to it, and wore a "So that's what that was all about" look. "Didn't I tell you? Oh man! This is classic! Geesh! I can't believe this Mulder kid has enough connections to pull a stunt like making the Project look fake." Al was scarcely being able to tell the story. "Get this, Sam! She called a friend of hers asking about Mulder! Who, of course, had been dead for fifteen years..." he trailed off when he realized the absurdity of laughing so hard at something so awful and awkwardly took a puff of his cigar. Sam pretended he was asleep, with the eraser tip he pointed to the "anything new" question. "I've been trying to calm Dana down and get Agent Doggett off my back this morning. There wasn't a chance to do research. Lemme see what Ziggy has to say." He dug the handlink out of his pocket and punched in a few numbers. The handlink for the database made beeping and buzzing sounds as Al began to wear a discouraged look on his face. "No, nothing's changed Sam. But stick to him, and I'll come back to check on ya later tonight. By then we should be able to get some good quiet time, and I'll be able to brief you more on what's happening in a few days." Before Sam could write anything, Al was gone. Sam returned his gaze to the highway. Al went back to the waiting room to check on Scully. Dr. Beeks had gotten her a salad for lunch, and had also showed her some of Dr. Becket's dissertations on time travel and quantum physics. She had the look she usually wore with Mulder when he was going over one of his outrageous theories. She looked up anxiously as he let himself in. "I'm sorry, Dana. Nothing yet." Scully cracked a disappointed grin. "Al, you know with these out-there theories of your Dr. Becket's I think Sam and Mulder will get along just *fine.* I understand how time travel is theoretically possible. It makes sense here--but what I can't understand is the how or why of it. Dr. Becket's time travel theorems may only work theoretically--like Marxism." "Dana, it's possible. Believe me. I was just on I-26 fifteen years in the past. You and your partner are theoretically on their way to Newberry, South Carolina. In reality, fifteen years later, Mulder is dead, and you and I are actually here talking in this waiting room simultaineously. Both are reality." "So you're saying we're in a parallel universe?" "No...not exactly. This is how the world will be if Sam can't stop Mulder's death." Scully stiffened. "But he will do everything he can to do that. Here, it's like a peice of--" he dug around in a pocket and tore off a loose thread from the inner-lining of his jacket. "string." With some effort, he untangled it. "What? Don't give me that look! This is how Dr. Becket showed it to me! Watch! Now...time...for most of us moves longways like so." He stretched the string at full length. "Each event is a subsequent consequence to every other event." His eyes darted along the line as if to demonstrate each event. Scully followed his motions. "What happens to water when it is accelerated?" "It moves in a circular motion." Scully wondered where his line of questioning was leading. "Same thing happens with time." He said triumphantly, and brought the middle of the circle together by the tips of his fingers. "In your life, hasn't there been one event that has, in consequence, changed everything else?" Scully nodded, flooding back to Dr. Waterson and that weekend Mulder had gone. She never regretted staying with Mulder and the X-Files. "If we accelerate time, and make it circulate like the water with Dr. Becket's machine, we can now this year touch with the year in which a significant event took place. For our purposes, it's when the case in Newberry began. From there, everything else in your life will be effected if Dr. Becket can succeed-- which I believe he will." "And the soul-swapping? Why isn't that in any of these theses?" "We seriously don't know, Dana. Dr. Becket didn't have any say- so in that part of the deal. He just built the time machine." Al indicated Scully's cross. "He's the one that did that part." "And what happens to Dr. Beckett after he does what it is he needs to do in my body?" "One of two things happen. He swaps souls with another body, or he leaps all the way back here. We're hoping it's the second one next time." For yours and Dr. Becket's sake, so am I, Al." "Thanks...so, anyway...uh...any questions?" "Yeah...just one. How is it that you are able to see Dr. Becket fifteen years in the past and I'm not able to join you in that chamber?" "The Project experiment was built around Dr. Becket's and mine brain waves alone. I'm the only one that can see and here him. He's the only one that can see and here me. It drains quite a bit of power to just to do that." "Is there any way I can see him?" "You don't give up do you?" Scully shook her head and a smug grin spread across her face, knowing she had won. "Not on Mulder." Al puffed his cigar as he usually did when he didn't know how to say something. "Yes. We do have a way for you to see Mulder with me. If you are holding my hand, you can be linked through my brain waves to Dr. Becket's--kind of like those plastic necklaces you link together. It drains a lot of power, so we don't do it often. If we did need your imput on the case, we have to wait until it was absolutely necessary for the progress of the leap." Scully brightened. If she knew Mulder as well as she thought she did, she was pretty sure that it wouldn't be long before they needed her assistance. "So...tell me about who you called on the phone this morning." Scully gave him a sheepish glance and told him it was Frohike. "One of the Lone Gunmen?" Al had remembered her mentioning him when she had recounted her involvement in the x-files. "You were listening. I'm impressed! Frohike is one of Mulder's old friends, and I suppose the FBI called because he must know whoever is on the x-files team now. My guess is it would be Agent Doggett. I must have tipped him off to what he thinks is a lead on Mulder." "Just one more question." Scully nodded. "You've been partners for seven years. Close friends for most of that time. Why are you still on a last-name basis?" "It seemed right at first--as a sign of respect more than anything else. I'd be worried about him or myself if he called me Dana. I don't call him Fox because he hates his first name." "Understandable." was all Al replied, egging her on. "I can't believe you don't think that a single man and a single woman can just be close friends." Scully was squirming with indignation now. "You sure there's nothing more there than a working friendship?" Newberry on U.S. 29 Mulder had gotten the directions for the local restaraunt strip from Sherrif Hayward. He and Sam were on their way. "Applebees sounds good." Mulder commented as he saw a sign for one off in the distance. Then he cracked a grin. "They've got everything there. Rabbit food for you, heartattack special for me." Sam nodded in approval, having no idea what an Applebees restaraunt was like. "It wouldn't hurt you to eat a little healthier, you know." Sam protested. He figured it was something Scully might have said, and it added conversation, at least...even if it did annoy Mulder. "Hey! I'm healthy!" Mulder protested. "Not for long with the way you're eating lately." "Yeah, well...my work on the x-files has a way of making me realize that I probably won't die of a heart attack at age sixty. So I figure, why live on bird rations?" Mulder pulled the car into the parkinglot. Sam sincerely hoped his realization wouldn't come sooner than Mulder thought. It was a Saturday night. They had to wait for about a half an hour for a booth. Sam thought this was a good opportunity to find out who Mulder knew that might be a good shot. "Mulder, do you think we're getting in a little over our heads with this investigation? There seem to be only about 5 professionals in the whole town. It looks to me like the sea- water and the ammonia were placed there by humans. What do you think?" "Yeah...you could be right Scully." The hostess came over and lead them to the booth. "It could just be a really big practical joke of some nephew of the morticians who's a member of a nearby college. Clemson's around here, isn't it?" "You think someone would go to the trouble to pull a stunt like that?" "Oh yeah!" He slurped his beer which had just arrived. "I remember once in Oxford, our frat pulled this stunt on the Dean. While he was out of town, some of the rich boys pooled together and bribed the houseworkers..." his grin was about to explode with a story. "What did you do?" Sam said, instinctively feeling sorry for the Dean. "While he was on vacation, we made his whole mansion up to look like a crypt! We blew up condoms for wings and the president told the Dean he had died" They both were scarcely able to keep from rolling in the floor now. It was a few minutes before Mulder could burst out, "In Latin!" "The poor guy!" Sam and Mulder were both doubled over in hysterics on their sides of the booths, wiping tears away from laughing so hard. Sam sobered up when Mulder's cell phone rang. Laughter was perkalating just below the surface of their voices. "It's probably Skinner calling." They both burst into fits of laughter. It was difficult for Mulder to contain his decorum when he answered the phone. It wasn't difficult for Sam to regain composure when he saw the expression on Mulder's face. "Hey, Scully, I gotta run to the restroom. I'll be right back. Order for me, ok?" "Heart attack special?" Sam quoted. From the look on Mulder's face after he hung up, Sam got the idea that he wasn't going to the restroom to answer nature's call. "You got it." The waitress came by and Sam ordered both of them a cob salad. If Sam had anything to do with the situation, Mulder wasn't going to die in five days, or of a heart attack in twenty years. He had to make sure Mulder was going to be around for a while. "What was that all about?" Sam asked. Mulder grimaced at the cob salad and smothered it in ranch dressing that scully had ordered for him on the side. "All I wanted tonight is a coronary-a-plate!" Mulder whined. "You know how I feel about salads, Scully." Mulder was avoiding the question, and made a disgusted face as he tried to gather up all the sunflower seeds, cheese, bacon bits and ham and took a bite. "I thought you were going to be more cooperative tonight to get me to talk." Mulder flashed a relenting grin. "What's going on, Mulder?" Sam persisted. "It was just Skinner, is all." Sam knew he was lying, and what's more, Sam could tell that Mulder knew that he knew, so he decided to drop the subject for now. Mulder took another slurp of beer. "You wouldn't pull any practical jokes, Scully." Sam flashed a knowing grin. "Scully! Not you! Not my responsible ... sensible ... quiet- evening-lover Scully pull a practical joke!" They both burst into laughter again. Sam decided to tell about a practical joke he had heard of a few hours ago. "Back in med school...we got this guy in this awful get up with a tiger-striped pants and a pink leopard-spot hat, a red tie and a royal blue shirt to come tell this girl...not at all like me...that she had swapped souls and was now part of a time- travel experiment!" "Oh my God! Scully, that's priceless! What happened?" "We told her that she had swapped souls with a man!" They were both roaring now, everyone turned they're heads to see what was going on. "I had no idea you were capable of something like that, Scully! I'll have to remember that one next time you don't believe one of my theories." Suddenly Sam wasn't laughing so hard. "Mulder? You were in a frat?" "Yeah. It was sort of a law at Oxford. You seem surprised." "You don't strike me as the typical frat boy." Sam laughed. "I was ever typical?" Mulder looked disappointed. "Let's say we call it a night, huh Scully?" Mulder said with a sigh. They got the "It's been a long day. I'm beat." Sam suddenly remembered that he had a night of reading ahead of him, and didn't object. The ride back to the hotel was quiet...not the uncomfortable quiet that had existed before, but the kind of quiet that comes when there's just nothing left to say. They climbed out of the car and Mulder said goodnight before heading into his room. Sam turned on the T.V. in Scully's room and waited till he was sure he didn't hear any more movement coming from Mulder's side. He didn't want Mulder barging in on reading Scully's old log- entries. To be on the safe side, he locked his door, got out the laptop, turned it on, popped in the disk, and typed in "STARBUCK" when the password was asked for. It had worked, and Sam spent the next few hours reading the past seven years of Scully's involvement of the x-files. He couldn't believe how much these agents had been through. It was a while before Al had come back to update him on the project. "Al--Mulder and Scully--both have missing parts of their memories like me. Listen to this, Al." He began to read one of the last entries from Scully's logbook that seemed to say it all. "Mulder had lost all of his family, on many occasions his sanity, and had come back from the brink of death more times than I had cared to count. I have been abducted (although Sam had doubted it was by aliens), lost a sister, had cancer, and my ability to have children--yet through it all, I have to cling to the truth I have fought for." Part of Sam wanted to believe Scully's entries. Part of him wanted to hope that they weren't true. "Yeah, she's been through a lot." Al said. "That's why we can't let anything happen to Mulder. Dana's finally beginning to understand the project. I think we should have more for you by tomorrow. I--uh--" Al and Sam both exchanged alarmed glances, because at that moment Sam heard a terrified scream from Mulder's side of the room. "SAAAAAAAAAAM!!!! SCULLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEE!!" Without a word, Al's hologram glanced in through the wall. The image of half of Al's body was disconcerting at any hour, let alone two am after reading all night about monsters and aliens and everything else that went bump in the night. "He's dreaming, Sam. Must be nightmares from Scully's abduction and about his sister." "He knows who I am?" Sam puzzled. "I don't understand--how can he--see--" Scully's diaries never mentioned his sister's name. The voice was softer this time, very anxious and panicked. "Scully, we gotta get Samantha outta there. We gotta find her Scully. She's not---oh no!" His voice trailed off into whimpers. Sam wondered briefly if he should wake him. Sam heaved a huge sigh of relief as he realized that the Sam that Mulder was screaming in his nightmare wasn't he, but his sister. "Sam is his sister, Al. Not me." Then a wave of sadness swept over him. In his dreams, Mulder was creating his worst case scenario. "Dana says this happens almost every time he's intensely worried about something before he goes to sleep. Especially if it's about a case." "She knows what he does in his sleep?" "Apparently. She says they are on a lot of cases where they need to be on location. They get adjoining rooms because it is the easiest for them to work. I guess hotel walls aren't thick. She's finally starting to understand how the project works. I think she's beginning to accept it now." "Hey, Al..." Sam brainstormed, "What if you can get those friends of Dr. Scully's to get into the FBI database and get the x-file case this is on. I'm sure it would be in Scully's e-log if not on file. Maybe if we can get the information before Wednesday, I can solve the x-file, and Mulder won't be killed, and I can leap outta here." "Good idea Sam! I'll see if they'll help us. Any luck at the examination today?" Sam shook his head. "The mortician has the only key and is indisposed till Monday morning. We go in for the autopsies at 8. So for tomorrow, we're just going to have to stick with interviews." "Oh boy! Talk about your one-horse towns! Mulder's quiet now, so I'll let you get some sleep. 'Nite Sam." It must have been four hours later when Sam found himself lying on an operating table. He couldn't see nobody or anything except huge machinery hovering above him. One was lowering, positioned for his naval-- Sam bolted up in Scully's bed. Flashbacks of leaper's experiences--especially intense ones, weren't unusual. Somehow, Dr. Sam Becket, whose realm of logic did not fit in with the existence of aliens or monsters and everything else that had been formerly only in his imagination, was completely unnerved by this one, because the things that went bump in the night--the stuff of Speilberg movies--were not make-believe, but were real parts of Scully's past. It was as if Scully's fears were now his own. Dreaming what had been part of her reality suddenly brought the x-files and its reality to something no longer ficticious and write-off-able, but solid and factual. Before the flashback, he had just been able to dismiss what Scully had written, remember what he had heard so many times in the past. "Abductees seldom are able to stick to abduction stories, and fit certain demographics that make the scientific mind realize that abductees are not suffering from the post traumatic stress of being abducted by aliens, but suffering from the post- traumatic stress of being abused by their parents. Being abducted seems, in the minds of those who believe they have been abducted, like a much less horrifying conclusion." The abductions that he had read for hours on end were not something out of a Gene Roddenberry novel or a B-Grade science- fiction movie anymore--Scully's ordeal was reality now. He got up to wash his face--if nothing else than to make sure that something in that hotel room was reality. May 17, 2015; 8:17pm QLHDQRTRS Scully's afternoon in the project's waiting room had been spent going over with Al everything that had happened leading up to Sam's first leap and what had happened since up until Sam's soul-swap with her. "What do you mean--of course there's nothing more there than friendship!" Scully protested. "Dana, just checking for the progress of the leap." Al lied. He was more than slightly curious. "You said earlier about what he does in his sleep. I naturally had to wonder." Scully now had a rising defensive tone in her voice. "That's only because we spend a lot of time traveling for cases, and we get adjoining rooms to make it easier to work. I can hear his screaming through the walls." Al raised a questioning eyebrow, but Scully didn't give him anymore insight into their relationship. The truth was, she didn't have all that much more insight herself. "Just asking. If you are involved, Dr. Becket and I should know." Al coughed nervously. "Sorry if I overstepped my bounds." "It's ok, Al." Scully fidgited a little. She felt like she owed Al a little bit of an explanation into their relationship. It was more than a working one. "Mulder--we have a deep friendship that is built on respect that has been formed naturally after spending the better part of seven years together watching each other's backs. I'd do anything for him...and I'm sure he'd do anything for me. Simple as that." Complicated as that. "Oh. Thanks for letting us know." Al couldn't help but think there was a little something more, and hinted as much in his tone. Scully suddenly gave Al a guilty smile, and an exasperated sigh. "We're not a couple at all." Scully said in an exasperrated tone Again Al only raised a questioning eyebrow. Not that he was the expert on love advice. He had been married and divorced as many times as you have fingers on your right hand, and was currently dating the logistics specialist, Tina...but he couldn't help but sense that Scully wanted to talk to someone about exactly how much Mulder meant to her. "Dana, what you say to me you won't remember after the leap back if that helps." "I think we're great friends but we'd never work as a couple. I just don't think he's ready to settle down. Not until he finds the truth he's looking for. He's always said that quest goes above everything else. Even if he was ready for a family, I could never give him children, and he deserves to be a father. Besides, if we had more than a friendship with him, the FBI would separate us as partners if we got romantically involved. He needs me--at least for now--as his partner. Not as his girlfriend." Al cracked an understanding smile. "Not that a man who's been married five times is the best person for advice on the subject of amore, but have you ever tried telling him?" "I think he knows how I feel." "Dana, mind if I get a little personal here?" "Al, I think soul-swapping is way beyond personal." Scully returned Al chuckled a little. "You wanna know why I was married five times?" Scully nodded. "My first wife, Beth, and I were head over heals when Vietnam broke out. We had just married, and she figured since I was in the Navy that I'd be leaving soon, so she wanted to start a family. I wasn't ready to be a parent yet, so we never had any. I was pretty sure she knew I loved her when I left for Vietnam. I was sure she loved me." Al's voice got angry now. "I survived 8 months catching what rain-water I could to survive in the Viet Kong prison camp, and living in a cage smaller than this desk off of grains of rice. The only reason I made it through that hell was thinking that Julie would be waiting for me when I got home. I never knew till then that I'd want kids. Anyway, I was released eventually when the war was over, and came home--only to find she had married someone else while I was gone." "Al, I'm sorry." Al gave her an "It's ok." smile. "Just don't want anything like that to happen to either you or Mulder. If I were you, I'd consider that while I go check on Sam and see how the progress is going back in Newberry." Scully sighed guiltily as Al left to go to the imaging chamber. May 17, 2001; 4:47 Newberry Motor Inn; Newberry, SC Sam had a hard time going to sleep after waking up from Scully's nightmare. It wasn't so much the disturbing scene that had torn him from sleep as much as it was the fact that what was in that dream shattered what he considered concrete and factual. He spent the remaining hours of nightfall re-reading Scully's e- log, trying to understand what Mulder so obviously understood...trying to make sense of what he and Scully had been through in their persuit of the truth within the cases of the x- files. Sam knew exactly what it was like missing chunks of memory, and thought it might be a good thing for him to write Scully what had happened in his leap. "Dr. Scully," he began. "How are you?" Didn't seem to be the next logical line. He struggled to try and explain to Scully exactly what had happened that day. He didn't know quite how. "Within the day that I have lept into your life within the x-files, I have not made any progress on changing your life. You, however, within the course of a day, have completely changed mine. How you have put up with your partner, Fox Mulder, for seven years is beyond me--but then again, so are a lot of things since this leap began. I am Dr. Sam Becket, a physicist and a medical doctor from Indiana who has built a time machine. I have been leaping from body to body since 1999, and unlike one account I read, this time machine has enabled me to change a significant event in your life--not end a life. I cannot tell you what the change involves, but I feel that since I know what it is like to miss significant chunks of memory, I feel that I owe it to you to describe my time involved in your life. Today, since the morgue was closed until Monday, we have made no progress, and will begin interviewing tomorrow. For you and Mulder, life is no different. Mulder is slightly suspicious that you are not here. Is he always this paranoid? We ate dinner at a restaraunt called Applebees tonight, and I ordered both of us a salad when he left for the restroom. He wanted what he called the heartattack special. Is he always that stubborn? I sincerely hope that I can make a significant change for your future within the next few days. The events of today have changed my life completely. Logic is no longer as involved in my reality. You and your partner are involved in one of the greatest Truths man has ever known: the discovery that we are not alone. I hope that you and your partner find the Truth that you're looking for. God Bless, Sam. Sam had just shut off the computer when he heard the door shut on Mulder's side. Sam looked at the clock. It was only 5:30am. Scully wrote in her logbook that he didn't go in his morning jogs for another hour. Sam unlocked the door on his side adjacent to Mulder's room and rapped on it. "Mulder?" No answer. The bathroom door was open and he looked around for a wallet...keys...some sign that he was coming back sometime soon. He was about to go back to Scully's room and get her cell phone when he heard the cranking of an engine. Sam scrambled to shrug into a trenchcoat, wrapping it around him and shovelled Scully's flats into his feet. He looked outside to see the rental car rolling as noislessly as possible out of the hotel parkinglot. Mulder was gone. Sam felt his heart sink to his knees as he realized what was happening. It wasn't Wednesday yet! This was only Sunday! Mulder wasn't allowed to get killed until Wednesday! "Mulder!" Sam yelled into the pre-dawn darkness after the tail lights in a vain attempt to get Mulder's attention so he'd turn around. Mulder headed out with the lights now on to I-29, not even looking in Sam's direction. He bolted off after the rental car, but Mulder wouldn't stop. He raced back to the hotel, hoping to get Sherrif Hayward's help. "Al!" He yelped next, and began scrambling around Mulder's room for some clues as to where he had gone. Al had an apartment on the project complex, that way he could be there if Sam needed his help at any given time. "Al!" He called frantically. It wasn't long before Al appeared. Sam was pannicking. Pacing and cussing and panicking. Sam rarely cussed. "Oh my God..." he gulped down a scream. "I haven't slept any tonight...I thought he was asleep...next thing I knew, slam..." he gestured out at the parking lot. "gone." He raked his hands up and down his face. "Center on him Al...I'll look around in his room for any hint as to where he is." "Goushie, center me on Mulder NOW!" Al hollered into the air. He was involved in this leap by now as much as Sam was, and didn't know how well he would take it if something happened to Mulder. Al was glad that Scully was sleeping soundly in the waiting room, and not around when Sam called for his help. Sam scrambled around Mulder's nightstand, and found a business envelope with the words: "To Starbuck from George E. Haley." Starbuck was Scully's password. He knew the letter was for Scully. What was Mulder doing with a letter from Mr. Haley to her? Was Mr. Haley the killer? "George E. Haley...George E. Haley..." Sam racked his brain, trying to figure out where he had recognized the name. Then he rememberered it was Mulder's nom de plum from Scully's e-log. "Mulder...you son of a..." He muttered as he opened the letter. Starbuck: Please don't chase after me. This is my fight, not yours. I'll be back before we would have started this morning. George E. Haley. "Dammit Mulder!" He shouted at the letter. At that moment, Al popped in. "He's not far, Sam. About five miles down the road, he's stopped in a parkinglot at a gas station." Sam tried to wake Sherrif Hayward by the ringing the desk bell, but it was no use. He left an IOU on the top of the desk and hot-wired the sherrif's car, praying the whole time that the sherrif wouldn't wake up and slow him down. Al popped in the car and sat next to him. "It's this one up ahead with no lights." Al shouted. Mulder was getting back into the rental car. Sam couldn't see who was in the other car. The other car tore out of the car, Mulder followed in hot persuit, and Sam followed close behind him. Sam fumbled around for the sirens, hoping to get both the drivers to stop, but they sped on down 29, heading toward the interstate. The sky was beginning to pink up with the glow of the morning sunrise. "Stay on him Sam." Al was urging. Al was just as nervous as Sam was. Neither Mulder or the other driver was slowing down. The driver made a sudden U-Turn. The rental car and the sherrif's car jack-hammered in close persuit. The traffic was getting heavier closer to I-85. Morning rush hour was beginning, and the car ahead of him wove in and out of lanes, barely snaking around other drivers. Mulder had to slam on breaks to avoid hitting another car that the other driver had skillfully blocked in Mulder's path. Sam swerved over onto the meridian; he and Al watched helplessly as the rental car kareened through the gaurdrail, crumpling over a hill and landing on the driver's side over on a ditch. Sam darted between the morning commuters over to Mulder, who was lying on the side of the road. He had been thrown to the side, onto the pavement. There was a lot of blood, and Mulder wasn't conscious. "You think we ought to get Scully?" Al asked. Sam nodded as he checked for a pulse. There was a nice, steady, strong one. For the first time that morning, Sam was hopeful. He knew he needed to call 911, but the traffic was coming in droves now, and he didn't want to leave Mulder alone out there. He somehow lifted Mulder's body with Scully's small frame over to the grass out of traffic's way. It was Sunday morning. All the traffic was for church services later that morning. The commuters were bustling for the sacrements, pushing and shoving for distance and the right-of- way to get a better pew. Sam was praying hard and bustling around the remains of the car for anything that would help Mulder stay alive until the ambulance could get there. Mulder was scrambling for all the strength he had in him to regain consciousness. He foridged around what was left of the crumpled rental car for Mulder's cell phone. He found it, and dialed 911. "I need an ambulance immediately. A federal agent's badly injured. Massive hemmorhage, possible internal injuries, multiple contusions and head trauma." He waited a minute, crouching anxiously over Mulder. "Steady pulse, and normal breathing for now." Another pause. "Unconscious." Just then he heard low, pained moans comming from Mulder, and heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Scully?" He was a bit confused to see his partner there. He protested weakly. "This is my fight, I told you. How'd you--" Mulder's expression changed from one of groggy pain to alarm. "Scully?" A look of panic swallowed his face. "Mulder, you just got knocked around. That's all. You'll be alright in a couple of days. Just lie still till the ambulance gets here to make sure." "Remember how I wanted a pegleg?" Sam answered with a confused nod. "Well, I've got two now." Just then Al popped in holding Scully's hand. Scully's face wore an expression of shock. "You've got two?" Sam echoed in confusion. Sam and Scully were crouched on the other side of Mulder. She looked up at Sam for an explanation. Mulder gave them both one with his feeble reply. "I can't get up." Sam and Al and Scully all climbed in with Mulder to the hospital. Sam had told the EMT's that there was spinal chord damage. He can't believe he forgot to check for that. "It's probably just temporary Mulder." Sam was saying. Sam wasn't sure who he was trying to calm down more: Mulder, Al and Scully, or himself. Mulder was fighting consciousness and relieved that his partner wasn't reprimanding him for running out. "You'll be walking out of the hospital in a couple of days. Don't panic until we find out what a spinal-injury specialist says, alright?" Mulder was losing his battle with consciousness. "Mulder dammit! Stay awake! Come on, Mulder, you need to be awake when we get to the hospital." Scully was screaming at him now, peered over Mulder opposite of Sam, who was nervously checking the monitor. She was still holding Al's hand. Al and Sam exchanged looks of desperation as they watched Scully plead with her partner. Scully had maneuvered herself so she could look down into his eyes. The frightened, helpless desperation she saw in them scared her. It was so hard for her not being able to talk to him, but at least she could be there. She wanted to comfort him somehow. She tried to brush her fingers through his hair and carress his face, but her holographic hand just slipped into his scalp. Mulder lost his battle with consciousness. Sam and Scully's eyes both clung to the monitors. "Dr. Becket, what happened here?" Scully demanded. Sam apologetically recounted the events of the morning to her. "I'm sorry Dr. Scully." was all Sam could say. "It's not your fault, Dr. Becket." Her voice was calm and steady, but her tone was explosive. She wasn't going to allow herself to break down in front of either of them. They got to the hospital and all waited for what seems like hours. "Dr. Scully--how do you handle him? What I don't understand is how you've managed to keep both of you alive and sane for seven years, and not to mention you've stopped yourself from strangling Mulder." "Yeah, well...we've got this system that's worked pretty well for seven years. Mulder gets a wild theory, goes in over his head, and I get him out of trouble. That's how we operate. Till what would have happened Wednesday, it worked pretty well." Just then, a nurse called Sam out into the hall and a doctor came over to them. A puzzled expression was on the doctor's face as he read through Mulder's mile-long medical history file. "It's remarkable that he's alive, Dr. Scully." Scully and Sam both had to wonder whether the doctor meant he was lucky to be alive with a medical history that long, or whether he was lucky to be alive with the injuries he had sustained this morning. "What's his condition?" "Stable for now. He's sustained a few injuries and lost quite a lot of blood. We've given him some demorrhal for the pain and he's scheduled for surgery in a few hours to correct the spinal chord damage. With the proper treatment, he should be walking again within the next few days. You can see him for a little while now before he goes under if you like, Dr. Scully, he's been asking for you." Sam nodded a thanks. Before Sam went in he turned to Al. "Why don't you and Dr. Scully go back and see what answers Ziggy can come up with. I don't want to loose all our power in one shot." Scully gave Sam a pleading look. "Scully, I'll make sure he won't be alone. The best you can do right now for him is to help us find answers so we can get whoever he was chasing this morning." She nodded reluctantly and with that, Al and Scully popped out. "Scully, I thought told you not to come after me. You could've gotten yourself killed." "Mulder, you nearly did. It looks like you're going to be ok. What--happened?" "I got a call from Krycek earlier yesterday to meet him. He said that since Spender put him in prison, he wanted to help me nail him. We planned to meet in the parkinglot. He wanted me to follow him out to someplace a little more secluded. I realized he set me up before it was too late." "Why didn't you tell me?" "I knew that if you found out, you would go with me--and I couldn't risk your life, too. I saw that you were still up, and I was worried that Spender might have informants on the look out. I couldn't let them know how long I had been gone. I knew that you'd see that letter--" "And come after you? Mulder--I hotwired the sherrif's patrol car." "You know how to hotwire a car, Scully? I'm impressed." Quantum Leap HeadQuarters May 18, 2015; 5:02 AM Al was finding it difficult not to panic, but he knew he had to keep his nerves steady to help them. He was very surprised that Scully wasn't sobbing or breaking down. "Thank you for letting me see him, Al. You know how much it meant to me." "I'm just sorry it was under those circumstances." "Me too." Al coughed nervously. He could tell she was exhausted. "Look, for now, I'll be fine by myself. If you want some sleep, go right ahead. I'll let you know if anything changes or if we need your input." Scully shook her head. "If something happens because I missed something, I don't think I would be able to face that, Al. Besides...if either of us needs sleep, it's you." "Listen to me, Dana." Al's voice was filled with anger. He could not let Dana give up, because he couldn't give up either. "Mulder's *NOT* going to die. He's going to walk out of that hospital in a couple of days, and he'll have us to thank for it. Come on, let's see what Ziggy's got for us." "Ziggy?" Al forgot to mention that part of the project to her. "Computer Hybrid Database. She contains every newspaper ever published, every medical record, legal record, and all births and deaths certificates, phone records, and credit-card activity data in the world. She's a bit miffed this morning because she couldn't see the wreck coming." "Computers get miffed?" Scully echoed as she arched her eyebrows. Al nodded. "Especially this one with an ego like she's got. She hates being wrong." "Admiral, what do you mean with an ego like she's got?" Demanded a crisp, not-quite-human female voice. "Uh...nothing Ziggy...good morning." "Morning Admiral." "Can you give me anything you can find on FBI Agent Fox Mulder? Has anything changed?" Scully and Al both looked in alarm at what the computer said next. Mulder's FBI profile came up on the computer screan on the ceiling just as the secretary came in with a decidedly nervous expression on her face. "Goushie, a man is here to see Al. I tried to stop him but..." The secretary was ignored. They were too engrossed in compiling data. "Yes Admiral. I see no credit-card activity from Agent Mulder after today with the FBI, or cell-phone activity. There is a hospital record which lasts two days, and then all records of Fox Mulder have disappeared. After that, there's no more data on him. We can't crack the FBI case-files. They're under lock-and- seal." No one saw Doggett come in, who was now staring up at the screen and looking over in complete disbelief at Al and who appeared to be Dr. Becket. "Dana, can you call your friends and see if they can get us into the database?" "Dr. Scully, I hope for Mulder's sake they believe what you say." said the hybrid, not seeing a man in a trench coat with sandy-gray hair and blue eyes in the room. Agent Doggett couldn't believe what he was seeing. He gawked at a tall man chestnut hair and green eyes. Did he just here them refer to that man as Dana Scully? Mother of Melissa Mulder Dana Scully? Partner of fifteen years Dana Scully? "Scully?" He barely managed to speak. He was hoping it was a mistake. Agent Doggett saw Dr. Becket's head turn in his direction, and the look in his eyes was one of complete dumbfoundedness, as though he had recognized his own name--as though he had no idea why the person who was calling the name would know it. It was quite some time before he could piece himself together enough to get his badge out of his breast pocket. He kept gawking up at the screen with Agent Mulder's picture and data, and then back at the man. "Admiral, Agent Doggett with the FBI, we spoke on the phone yesterday." He took another confused look at the man, and another one up at Mulder's information, then another one at the Admiral. "Would you mind explaining what the hell is going on here?" "Agent Doggett, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Admiral, in my line of work, I've seen a lot of things you wouldn't believe if I told you. So try me." Scully and Al exchanged trapped glances. Al waved for Goushie to come over. "Continue the research on him for now while I explain things to Doggett. Da---uh, Dr. Becket, go help him." Taking Al's cue, Scully did'nt turn to look at the Agent. She couldn't figure out where she recognized him from. Maybe, she thought, he just had one of those faces. "I think I will need Dr. Becket for questioning too, considering this is his project. Dr. Becket can come with us." Doggett's southern lilt didn't seem to match with his abrupt frankness. "Admiral, something about this whole set-up is weird. I come here to question Dr. Becket, and a computer calls him Scully, and you called him Dana just a few seconds ago, which is interesting because that's my partner down at the Bureau. Care to shed some light? Because you can bet your grits, gentlemen, if Dana Scully's being detained here against her will, there'll be he11 to pay." Doggett's steely blue gaze was threatening them both. He was scared for Scully's sake, and for his own. The flight from D.C. to New Mexico was hellacious. He was in no mood for bullsh*t, and said as much in his expression. "Nobody's being held against their wills here, Agent." Scully spoke up. She looked to Al for permission to continue. "Al, that's exactly what I thought had happened twenty four hours ago. If he has connections with the boys, he can get them to crack the FBI files." "Care to elaborate, Dr. Becket?" The man didn't have recognition of his own name. The men were still conferencing with each other. Out on a limb, Doggett decided to try something. "Scully!" He called out. Doggett had Dr. Becket's attention now. And the Admiral's May 18, 2001 Newberry Memorial Hospital Sam was wondering what in the world was keeping Al. He pushed that worry in the back of his mind as the nurses, phlebotomists, and anesthetisiologists and surgical prep technicians buzzed in and out of the room. The drugs were about to take effect. "Remember what I said last time I was under a drug around you, Scully?" Sam wished that Scully could've stayed to clue him in. "Yeah, well, people say strange things under strange stuff." He figured that was a safe response. "Scully, if I can't--" Sam cut him off, he wasn't going to let Mulder even imagine defeat. "Mulder, I'm going to go get some of the interviews out of the way while you're sedated. You can't do any more harm strapped to a bed." Then with a sheepish laugh, "Oooohhhh. . . Strapped to a bed. . . kinky!" Mulder snorted. "The sherrif will be missing his patrol car." Sam said, chosing to ignore his comment. "Then we need to get another rental car arranged." "Yeah, I guess we can pretty much forget about getting the deposit back." Mulder said with a bitter laugh, glancing down at his legs, and then up at Sam, as if to say that the deposite was the least of his problems. Sam could tell that his hazel eyes were now getting weighted down with the medication, and the only thing overriding the sleepiness was fear. "Mulder, you'll be fine. Doctor's orders." Sam was trying to convince himself, too. Sam stayed with him as the drugs took over consciousness. NEWBERRY MOTOR LODGE For everyone else but Sheriff Hayward, depending on your sense of humor, the sight of Scully's dainty, porcelain-doll stature pulling up to the hotel in a hot-wired patrol car was either an amusing or an alarming one. Sherrif Hayward couldn't tell from behind his desk that the FBI Woman was carrying a blood-stained jacket, and began litting into Sam as soon as she got within ear shot. He began to fly into Sam, and once he started, he was in such a rage, he failed to notice Mulder's blood stains. "AGENT SCULLY, JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!! I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO HAVE YOU ARRESTED FOR PULLING THAT LITTLE STUNT. YOU STOLE PRIVATE PROPERTY. IS THAT ALL YOU YANKS KNOW HOW TO DO? THAT WHAT THEY TEACH YOU AT FED SCHOOL? RIP THE CARPET OUT FROM UNDER LAW ABIDING CITIZENS? YOU BETTER BELIEVE I CALLED YOUR--" A very stern woman came out from the backroom. Very calm, steady, low, no-nonsense voice she said "Aaron." "HUSH UP!" Sherrif Hayward barked, and then continued to lit into Sam as heavily as before, enjoying the roll he seemed to be on. "AGENT SCULLY, YOU BETTER BELIEVE I CALLED YOUR SUPERIOR! HE'S ALREADY FOUND OUT ABOUT THIS INCIDENT AND I--" The woman stepped in front of the man and looked him squarely in the eye. "Aaron, if you would calm down for two seconds, you would see that this poor thing is in trouble. Give the girl a chance to explain herself before you go tearin' her to shreds!" For the first time since Sam pulled up, sense seemed to be a part of the sheriff's reasoning. The sheriff looked to Sam for an explanation. "Well...like she said...explain." Sam was glad the man didn't have a rifle. "My partner drove off with our rental car early this morning, and I thought he was in trouble. I didn't have any way to chase him down, so I had no choice but to hotwire your patrol car. I had ever intention of returning it when I could see that my partner was going to be alright." The woman gave the sherrif a triumphant "See there?" look and went back to her place in the room behind the counter. "Look, I apologize for hotwiring the car...but I didn't see any other way around it." "It's alright ma'am." "Thanks...uh...listen, is there anyway I can get a ride to a rental car center? I've got a lot of work to get done." May 18, 2015 QLDQRTRS "Scully?" Doggett asked again in amazement. The two men in front of him simultaneously turned to each other completely dumb- struck. "Agent Doggett, I'm sorry, but I've never seen you before in my life." Scully lied. She was certain she had seen him somewhere...she just couldn't quite place it. "Gentlemen, would you mind lettin' me in on the club-house secret here? Who called an unlisted cell phone asking about the late Fox Mulder?" There was a long silence. Scully spoke up. "I thought he was still alive." There. That was the truth. "So for fifteen years, until yesterday morning, you hadn't been in touch with Mulder, and you wanted to deliver a message to him." Scully nodded her head. "Why didn't you just call Mulder's cell phone directly, Dr. Becket? If you knew the cell number of a friend of his well enough not to need to look it up, then surely, you knew Mulder's. Why didn't you just send the message directly." Doggett looked at him point blank. "Al, wouldn't it be easier if we just told him?" "Yes, it would." Doggett answered. May 18, 2001; 12:45 Newberry, SC Once Sam explained the whole ordeal to Sherrif Hayward, he was very compliant and drove him to a rental-car center. He was quick to get another car, and then drove back to the hotel for the case reports. Sam was worried about Mulder, but part of him was glad that Mulder would be out of trouble...at least he couldn't get shot at for now. Now, all he needed to do was to solve the cases. He had done that before in other leaps. Sure, it was just like any good old- fashioned whodunnit. Or whatdunnit. And what was keeping Al so long? PQLHDQRTRS; Roswell NM May 18, 2015; 9:47 AM In the waiting room, Doggett was getting impatient. He certainly wasn't going anywhere the way things were going at the moment, so he decided to try another tact. "Dr. Becket--the same Dr. Becket I saw on Larry King--the same Dr. Becket whose papers gave me these racoons--just answered to my partner's name. How is that possible?" Dr. Becket's face had an enlightened expression. Scully finally had an idea of who Doggett was. "Agent Doggett..." Al started tentatively, and turned to the Sam-who-was-Scully. "I was hoping we could do this some other way, but it looks like you don't give up easy, either. Is that part of the job description to apply for the Bureau or something? Strange names and pig heads?" "Admiral...I take the truth like my coffee...just give it to me straight." "If you're familiar with Dr. Becket's dissertations, then you're familiar with this theories of time travel." Doggett nodded and urged Al to continue. Al began very pedantically, like he was reciting a mantra. Scully and Doggett could tell he had recited this several times. "Back in '99, we were just about to complete the project--a time machine which he invented--when he stepped into it, and vanished. Ever since, he's been changing souls from time and place to time and place. We became aware of what had happened to Agent Mulder when Dr. Becket swapped souls with Dr. Dana Scully. So what you are seeing in front of you is only an aura of Dr. Becket. This is Dana Scully in front of you." Doggett's eyes widened in confusion. "Scully?" He squeaked again. Stoic, steady-as-a-rock John Doggett, who had seen things beyond weird with his work on the x-files, who had rarely blinked as a member of the NYPD, never let his voice go up octaves. He already had twice today. "The Dr. Scully that existed on May 18, 2001, at anyrate." Al clarified. "She doesn't recognize you because she hasn't met you yet. Scully, can I talk to the agent for a few minutes privately?" Scully nodded and left the two men by themselves. "Forgive me, Admiral, but this is a lot harder to swallow than a horsepill." "Yeah, I know it's a lot to sink in...but it's the truth. No matter what, you can't tell Scully what's happened to her within the last fifteen years." "None of that?" Al shook his head. "If you tell her about events in her original history, it could change everything. So, for all our sakes... please...no references to anything that might jeopardize her future--or yours." "Admiral, I appreciate your honesty. If there's something I can do--" "Just a minute Agent." Al interrupted. "Just wait right here, I'll be right back." He left to go talk to Scully. "Scully, get Agent Doggieman in there to get your buddies you called yesterday to pick the lock on the FBI files. I'm gonna go center on Sam and get back to you when I find out more." Al went to the imaging chamber, and Scully went into the waiting room, not quite sure how she was going to convince Agent Doggett to get the Lone Gunmen's help. May 18, 2001; 12:35pm Newberry SC; Dangler residence There were three victims. Holly Dangler, 16, and Mary Alice Dangler, Becky Gilquist, both 17, and Ezekiel Rawlston, 18. Luckily, Mulder had the foresight to call when they first got there from the hotel for appointments with the victims' families. Sam had arrived to find a modest trailer home drenched in tobacco stains. Rita Dangler sat in the living room of her trailer, clutching a box of kleanex and intermittently puffing a cigarrette that seemed to be as much a part of her as her fingers that held it. She seemed to add unnecessary syllables to very word she spoke. "So you told Officer Lott that Holly and Mary Alice were at Myrtle on Spring Break?" Sam asked, trying to get the right mix of detatchment sincerity, and sympathy in his tone. Tears were bubbling beneath her words. "Yeyas. Theyah was with their friends Paul and Zeke and Zeke's guhrruhlfreeyund Bayckeh. He cawalled meh on Thursdahay aiskin' fer eyggstra cash." She burried her face in her tissue. Sam sat there stoically, writing her words down--at least what words from her Southern dialect he could translate. "Uh-huh. What did you see happening to your sons before they died? "Ah didn't see 'em," Mrs. Dangler sobbed. "They were uhwayah at schewuhl. The UMCS up th' road." Sam thought, knowing full well the country definition of 'up the road' could mean an hour and a half drive. "Did they tell you they were sick...anything?" Mrs. Dangler only rattled her head no. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Dangler. We'll be in touch." Sam showed himself out, and after picking up fast-food for lunch, he headed for his next appointment at the Gilquist's residence. At the Gilquist's he found a ice-cold pitcher of sweet iced tea, a fresh bundt cake, Harold, the victim's father, and Maggie, her mother waiting for him. They were stone-calm in their small, tastefull house decorated in country colors. He could tell their grief was dormant underneath their words. Again, Sam asked the same standard questions he had posed Mrs. Dangler, trying to find the right mix in his tone between sympathy, detatchment, and sincerity. "You told the officer that she was at Myrtle Beach for vacation a few days before this happened?" The Gillquests nodded simultaneously. "Did she tell you she wasn't feeling well before this all happened?" He decided to use a little more tact this time. The Gillquists looked thoughtful for a minute. Again, a simultaneous nod. "Yes," Mrs. Gillquist finally answered. "She was complaining of not being able to keep anything down. She had this burning sensation in her stomach whenever she swallowed, she said. She also said that she had a constant burning sensation in her chest...like heartburn." Sam wished his short hand was better as he chicken-scratched Mrs. Gillquist's response. "Thank you for all your help, Mr. and Mrs. Gillquist. We'll keep in touch." Sam looked at his watch. Mulder was probably getting out of surgery now. He knew if he was going to keep his promise to Scully he needed to get back to the hospital soon. If he hadn't thought he needed to get this case solved soon, he would've stayed to offer his medical expertise. Mrs. Gillquist tugged at Sam's arm on his way out the door. "Mrs. Hayward called me and told me about your partner. He'll be in my prayers, miss." Sam smiled faintly. "Thanks Mrs. Gilquist. Well...uh...I need to get going. Thanks." Sam said, and waved a good bye as he headed out the door. Back at the hospital, Mulder was just getting out of surgery. He was still sedated under the anesthesia. It would be a while till he got out of it. Sam decided to sit at the chair by his bed and salvage some sleep while he waited for Al. "Sam! Saaaaaam!" He was yanked out of his sleep by Al's smoke- scratched voice to his right. "So how's the kid doing?" Al asked as he gnawed on his cigar. "He should be okay. How's Scully holding up?" Al nodded, indicating she was fine. "Oh man, Sam...you wouldn't believe what happened. Agent Doggett--" "The guy who called you yesterday?" Al nodded. Sam's expression urged him to continue. "He found the project complex and broke in past the secretaries, gaurds and everything. I don't know how he did it." "Maybe he got by with a little help from Dr. Scully's friends?" "Who knows? She's debriefing him right now." Sam was encouraged by the heartrate picking up, but figured it had to be a while before Scully's partner came out of the anesthesia. "Al, I'm worried about Mulder. I think it might not be a bad idea when the A.D. gets here to report him. He almost got himself killed today." Fox Mulder was beginning to come out from under anesthesia. Slowly memories of the case...of Scully acting un-Scully-like... flooded back. He couldn't quite piece it together. She was the same mothery skeptic she always was...but something had been different since yesterday. He couldn't shake that look she had had earlier in the office after she first came in off his mind-- like she had no memory of him whatsoever. Mulder was stupified and groggy, and decided to keep his eyes close a while longer... he thought...<"I love you" coming from *me* is strange.> "So does Dr. Scully have any insights yet on this case?" <*Dr. Scully?* Why was Scully referring to herself as someone else?> Mulder saw Scully react to something that wasn't there. "Sam, I think you better stop yappin'. The kid's awake." Sam spun around at Al's suggestion and saw a look of panic on Mulder's face that had drowned his features. If Mulder wasn't strapped to the bed, Sam would've found himself in two positions, either diving noseward from the throw of a punch or staring down the barrell of a gun. Instead, all Mulder could settle for was a dangerous look and a slow, explosive, steady tone. Al and Sam both stood stock-still as Mulder demanded what had been clamoring on the edge of his thoughts for the past two days. "Where's Scully? "Mulder...Scully--I'm right here." He said, barely catching himself. "Sam, remember," Al warned, "if you let on who you really are-- Poof! we could go into oblivion faster than Jimmy Hoffa." "You're *NOT* Scully. I just heard you referring to her as another person. I heard you talking to thin air as though you were having a one-sided conversation." Mulder felt completely helpless. It was all his fault. It was his quest that got him in this situation, and his search for the truth that might have cost him Scully--again. Sam really felt sorry for the guy. Mulder couldn't understand what was going on. He thought his partner was gone. He tried to calm Mulder down the best he could. "Mulder, your mind was just playing tricks on you with the anesthesia. I'm Dana Scully--your partner." "Nice save, Sam." Al encouraged. "I'm not buyin'. I know what I saw. I know what I heard. You're not Dana Scully. Now tell me the truth!" "Mulder, I'm Dr. Dana Scully." Sam lied again "Alright, if you're Dana Scully, then tell me what my lucky number is." Sam was silent. "If you're Dana Scully, then tell me what my favorite movie is?" Sam was still silent. He couldn't answer. Al was panicking. "Sam, I'm outta here! If you tell that kid who you really are, I want that nurse at the counter to be the last thing I see." "Mulder, you wouldn't believe me even if I could tell you." "Try me." "I--" he gave a warning look back at Al. Roswell, NM; QLHDQRTRS 9:47 AM It took everything Doggett had in him not to tell Scully what happened to her. By now, he was used to getting left-field theories from his partner, but this one...this one was wierd. It was beyond wierd...just plain bizzare. "So, Scully. Just let me see if I got this right." His expression was pointed, as if he was trying not to laugh in disbelief. "You're tellin' me all this is part of a time-travel experiment, and you're not actually this guy right here," he flashed a photocopied picture he had of Sam, "But Dana Scully as she existed in 2001, so this guy" he held up a picture again, "Can help that guy," he pointed at Mulder "fix what went wrong in the original history." Scully nodded. "That would be correct, John." came the droning "voice" of the computer. There is a 94-point-five percent possibility that you're finding this all a bit hard to believe." Doggett flashed an awkward smile up at in the computer's direction, and Scully shot Ziggy a dirty look. "Ziggy, don't you have something useful to do?" Scully wanted to know. "Dr. Scully, right now, I am configuring statistics on fossils found carbon dating to the paleolithic era, playing a game of chess with the world's top player, and stylistically differentiating the different authors of what are perported to be Shakespearean plays. I was *built* to be useful." Doggett could have sworn he saw the computer module smirk. "Agent Doggett, we need your help." Dr. Beeks was saying. "You came here looking for information on the murder of Fox Mulder. We don't know anymore than you do at this point, because we can't access the FBI files. But both you and Dr. Scully know people who possibly can." Doggett looked at Dr. Becket-er...Scully--quizzically. "The Gunmen?" She answered. Doggett sighed and got out his cell phone. "Hey, Byers, you guys feel like taking a trip to Roswell?" Doggett nodded during the slight pause. "How soon can you boys catch a plane out here?" The Lone Gunmen were on their way. 3:47 pm Newberry Memorial Hospital; Newberry, SC. Just then, the doctor walked in. Sam sighed in relief at not having to answer the question just then. "Well, Mr. Mulder. Everything appears to be normal, it looks like you'll be fine, and should be walking in a day or so." Mulder closed his eyes in relief. "Thanks." "I'll send orders for a prescription for the pain. But now--" the doctor stopped to look at the watch--"huh...that's weird...the compass on my watch is going all haywire. Huh! How 'bout that. Oh well...I guess I'll just hafta get a new battery. Anyway, I need to be going. I have a golf date with a colleague. I'll be by to check on you again during my morning rounds. Bye!" The doctor wagged his head, dumbstruck as the compass seemed to fix itself again as soon as he stepped out of the room. "Al, I seriously don't see another way around this. He knows anyway,if we poofed out of existence because of Mulder finding out, we would've been long gone." "Al? Who's Al? What the hell is going on?" "Mulder, you and your partner are part of a time-travel experiment." "Sam, I'm warning you! You tell this kid about the project and we go bye-bye." Sam could almost see the acid churning in Al's stomach. "Al, I'm telling you, it's the only way! My name is Dr. Samuel Becket, and I am from the future in a time machine that I built." "The Playwright? Don't tell me you're another nutcase that needs to destroy his time machine." Sam was glad Mulder was buying his explanation. "No, no...not at all...I'm a physicist." "Nobel-prize winner? I saw you on the cover of Newsweek a few years back. Who are you talking to?" "Oh. Uh, this is my friend Al Calivici." Sam gestured to the air where Al was. He's a friend of mine who helps on the leaps, sometimes." Sam was actually relieved he didnt' need to keep up the sherade anymore. "So, Dr. Becket. What are you here to fix? I hope it's not my love life, because that would be damn pathetic if you came all the way across time and space to fix that." May 18, 2015; 4:02pm Roswell, NM; PQLHDQRTRS Doggett met Byers, Langly, Frohike, Jimmy, and Yves at the gates, who were each carrying as much equipment as they could in one load, explaining exactly what Scully had explained to him. "So no telling her, anything, ok? Seriously fellas..." he looked nervously over at Yves, "and ma'am...if she finds out anything that's happened to her in this history, it could make all of us disappear." "Cool!" Langly seemed grimly delighted by the prospect. Byers let an aggrivated sigh, and followed Doggett in. "So *that's* what they're hiding in area 51, huh Doggett? No little green men after all?" The wheels were already turning in Byers' head for the next Lone Gunmen issue. What a great cover story this would make! "Don't even think about it, Byers." Yves countered. They went inside the complex, and were given the grand tour. "The computer module doesn't have any extra outlets for our laptops. How do we communicate?" "Like you would talk to everyone else." The computer module chirpped. "Speak to me." Frohike was embarrassed, and they were all starring in awe at the machine, looking around, trying to figure out how it worked. "I'm capable of composing music based on fractal equations, writing twenty thousand programs, patting my head, and rubbing my tummy." If that weren't a computer, Frohike could've sworn he heard her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Ziggy, I think I'm in love." Langly's nasally voice was dreamier than either Scully or Doggett had ever heard it before. "You like Megadeath?" "Put a sock in it." The module answered dryly. "What do you know, a million megabytes of megab*tch." Grumbled Frohike. "This is so awesome!" Jimmy was poking around the project like a little kid in a toystore, being interrupted every now and then by Verbeena Beeks' stern warning "Don't touch that!" To which, Jimmy pearched up on the research table. "Hey, can you beam me up?" "Boys," Yves was always aggitated, trying to bring them back to earth. "We got work to do." "So is there any main computer we can hook our systems up to?" "Over here, this is the mainframe." Goushie said, relieved that Jimmy and Langly were going to be occupied for a while, and showed Byers and Yves where to set-up. Doggett and Scully hoped that the Gunmen could do their job. Newberry Memorial Hospital "See, Al...I told you we wouldn't disappear. Remember Tamlin? When I told her who I was? We didn't disappear then, either, because she knew already." "That china doll and Roy Neary over there are different situations enTIRELY! We were lucky we didn't disappear like a pizza in front of Marlon Brando." Al punched in a few buttons in the handlink. "Tamlin?" Mulder was confused. "Tamlin's this girl I met in San Fransisco a while back. She found out who I was, too." "So, seriously...what are you here to fix? I'd hate to think God, or time, or whatever it was who pinballed you around sent you here for my lovelife. That would be just pathetic. You ever think that what's leaping you around are an alien race?" "No--I don't think so." He never considered that possibility. He just always got the feeling that it was some omniscient entity with an agenda for good. "You really believe in little green men, don't you Mulder? I mean, don't you think it could be just that you blindly want to assume that some big bad alien took your sister so that you can have something to fight against?" "They're gray. You know what took me so long to catch on that you weren't Scully?" Sam shook his head. "Because right now, you're sounding a lot like her. After all you've seen in the files from that basement office--how can you *not* understand that we're not alone...and the truth Scully and I have fought so hard for is in that understanding?" Sam remembered the mantra on the poster on the office wall back in D.C. "I want to believe--but I can't. Not without physical evidence." "Look me up when you leap back home. I'll set you and Scully up. You two would be perfect for each other." Sam whirled around to face Al as the handlink to Ziggy's mainframe hised and whirred and beeped like crazy. The panic swam back to Mulder's face, responding to Sam's. "Sam, you changed history. Mulder doesn't get killed anymore. Scully does." "Sam, is Scully alright? Where is she?" "Scully's fine for now. She's in the future...in my time...at the project." "What do you mean, *for now? Sam, I don't like this!" "I don't get it Al...what happened between now and this afternoon that changed things?" "Changed what things? What things changed?" "Uh...Sam--the kid?" Sam had nearly forgotten that Mulder was there. "Sam, is there anyway I can see Al? It's like a constant two- sided three-party telephone conversation here. Just getting a little complicated" "Uh...I don't think so. The experiment was tuned to Al's and my brainwave's only." "Maybe we should get two cans and a string. Wait a sec...what if we've got similar brainwaves? Could I register Al's signal then?" "Hang on kid, lemme try something." Al said as if Mulder could here him, and punched a few buttons. "Sam, ask the kid what his psychological profile is." "Mulder, what's your psychological profile?" Sam looked at Al a little confused, wondered what Al was getting at. "If we can find similatities in your profiles, then bingo bango bongo, we can rewire the neurotransmitters so both of you can see me." "Uh...photographic memory," Mulder wasn't used to being the one with the left-field theories. "Al," Sam was protesting, "we don't know what part of the brain that's responsible for that yet...how can it be possible..." "Bippety..." Al said, punching in a few keys to the handlink. "Genius I.Q," "What if it takes up a lot more power than we can affoard? Al--I don't think it's the greatest idea in the world..." "Boppety..." a few more keys punched into the handlink. "Boo. Hi kid, how's it going." Suddenly, Mulder could see a shorter man with dark-set eyes and dark hair, greying at the temples in a dolphin-gray suit with a gold-color tie with matching shoes, and plumb colored shirt sporting a cigar. "Hey Al. So what costume shop did you pick that get-up at? No *wonder* Scully thought the project was a practical joke." "