I hadn't been working in the clinic for even a week, when I 
realized how unexciting it would be.  At first, I had 
basked in laziness, glad to have such easy work compared to 
my job before.  I quickly came to miss everything from my 
old job, from Mr. Chu's complicated meds to Mrs. Hudson's 
diaper changes.  

Dana and I had a lot of time to talk; the only medical 
needs so far had been ones easily fixed with bandages, cuts 
and scrapes.  We didn't talk much about Before, as it was a 
painful subject for everyone, but mostly about neutral 
things.  She did let it slip that she had a son named 
William, though, when we discussed nature versus nurture 
with respect to intelligence, saying that he definitely had 
his father's brains.  She didn't reveal anything else; I 
assumed that we had ventured into personal losses, and 
changed the subject to movies.

On my sixth day at the clinic, I was so bored I started 
cleaning.  I was sanitizing the tiles above the sink when I 
heard whistling in the hallway.  At the sound of a possible 
client, or at least someone to relieve the boredom, I 
immediately abandoned the walls, ripping the yellow gloves 
off and throwing them into the sink.  I turned towards the 
door and was pleasantly surprised to find Jake Mulder 
looking in.  For a moment, my heart skipped a beat, being 
adolescent in hoping he was coming to see me, but my brain 
got back on track quickly.  "Hello, do you need medical 
service?" I asked, feeling slightly awkward.

"Ah, no.  I was actually looking for my mom.  Is she here?"

"Your mom?"  

"Yeah, she's the doctor?"

"Oh.  Oh, Dana's your mom?"  I suddenly saw the resemblance 
and kicked myself for being so slow.  "She mentioned a son 
named William..."

"That'd be me.  William Jacob Mulder," Jake grinned.  

I was a little taken aback.  He had both of his parents 
with him?  The only intact family I knew of in our 
community were Jon and Suzanne, first cousins.  How had the 
Mulders managed to be so lucky?

"Jake, what are you doing here?"  Dana appeared at the end 
of the hall.  She walked briskly towards us, ready for an 
emergency.

"I was wondering if you want to eat lunch with me.  I got 
it 'to go.'"  Jake held up a large paper bag.

"That's sweet, but I just ate.  Why don't you go with 
Jessie?  It's her lunch break now."

"Oh no, that's all right, I can go to the cafeteria," I 
said, referring to the hotel's dining room.  

"Why go there, when I've already got it here?  Come on, 
Jessie, I've got extra cookies!"

"Extra cookies?"  I wondered how he'd managed that.

"I'll tell you how I got away with it if you eat with me," 
he whispered, raising his eyebrows and nodding.

Dana laughed.  "I'll see you two later.  Thanks for 
thinking of me, sweetie."  She gave Jake a peck on the 
cheek.  "Have a good lunch!"  She waved us off.

"I guess I'm eating lunch with you," I told Jake.

"Don't be too excited.  Come on, I found this great place!"  
He started walking, then turned around to wait for me to 
catch up.

-----

"Where are we going?" I asked Jake as we trudged through 
the snow, trying to keep the whine out of my voice.  

"You'll see," he replied, turning around with a small grin 
before continuing forward.  

I tried to keep my annoyance at him hidden.  He knew I only 
had thirty minutes for my lunch break.  Once Jake had found 
out that we had the same time for our breaks, one lunch 
with him had turned into two, then three.  I didn't know 
why he wanted my company anyway.  All we had in common was 
that we had both been cyberschooled and loved to read.  I 
didn't particularly crave company often, but I supposed 
that a lunch buddy was all right.

Today was supposedly our fourth day eating lunch together, 
but I was beginning to doubt that I'd be seeing any food 
before I'd have to head back to the clinic.  It wasn't too 
cold today, mild for February, but I hadn't anticipated 
having to trek for more than a couple of blocks.

I almost crashed into Jake's backpack, not noticing that he 
had stopped.  "Look."  He pointed to the wall in front of 
us.  I didn't see anything except some graffiti on the back 
wall of the courthouse.

"What am I looking at?"

Jake grabbed my mitten-covered hand and led me closer to 
the wall.  "Look here," he said, pointing to the small 
letters in red paint.  

"'William luvs Jess forever,'" I read.

"Isn't it neat?  There were people with our names who lived 
here.  I found it when I was out on patrol this morning.  
Trent said that it's been there for years.  William and 
Jess celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary last 
year, he said."  

"Well, that tells us how often this building is repainted," 
I remarked.  I didn't think it was as neat as Jake thought 
it was.  He didn't go by his first name, my name was 
Jessie, not Jess, and we weren't in love.  Two names 
painted on a wall was vandalism, nothing else.

Jake seemed to deflate at my comment, but he didn't say 
anything else about the declaration on the wall.  "Let's go 
around to the front and see if there's anywhere to sit 
inside the courthouse," he suggested.  "We don't want lunch 
to freeze."

-----

The knock on my door woke me from my dream before it could 
turn nightmarish.  My watch on the nightstand told me it 
was already 10 o'clock.  I sat up in bed, remembering that 
I had only planned to take a short nap after supper, not go 
to bed so early.  I finger-combed my hair on my way to 
answer the door, wondering if I was needed in the clinic.

I opened the door to "You're gonna love me," from the mouth 
of Jake Mulder.

"Because you're going to save me from Adam Solchuk?"  I 
couldn't help but grin.

"Adam?"  He invited himself into my room.  I sighed and 
closed the door behind him.

"He came into the clinic this afternoon because there were 
no more condoms at the drug store, but that's not 
important--"

"It's not?"  Jake waggled his eyebrows, settling himself 
onto my unmade bed.

"He said that since people were starting to couple off, he 
wanted to know if I was interested--"

"Geez, that guy should've been named Melvin!"

"Huh?"

"Someone my mom used to know.  So what did you tell Adam?"

"That you'd beat him up, of course!"

"Really?"

"No.  What are you doing here?"

"I missed you."

"We saw each other at lunch today and I'm sure we'll see 
each other at lunch tomorrow, so that can't be it.  
Seriously, what are you doing here?"

"I found a library."

"A library?"  I couldn't help but feel the excitement start 
up.  Jake had a great memory, and would tell me stories 
from the books in his head during our lunches together, but 
it wasn't the same as the thrill of cracking open a new 
tale, feeling the smooth printed paper under my fingers.

"Yes, but it's in someone's house.  It's more of a personal 
library.  If you don't mind breaking and entering--"

"Oh, I could kiss you!"  I was already grabbing my coat and 
looking for my mittens.

"I told you you were gonna love me!"

-----

Having a role in our community made me feel like things 
were finally approaching normal.  Sometimes I could almost 
forget about what was happening to our planet.  I might not 
have had my family, but I had a job and it gave me a sense 
of purpose again.

My relationship with Amy started withering.  She complained 
that I was at the clinic all the time and spent the little 
free time I had with Jake.  I for one thought she was 
acting like a jealous best friend, the kind that accuses 
your boyfriend of stealing you away from her.  And Jake 
wasn't even my boyfriend!  I was no longer a teenager and 
Amy wasn't even close to being my best friend.  I resented 
her implications and stayed away from her as often as I 
could.  The last time I had bumped into her on my way home, 
she had gone on and on about Ryan, her latest boy-toy.

"What about you and Jake?" she had asked, giving me a 
knowing look.

"What about me and Jake?" I asked slowly.

"Have you guys done it yet?"  

"Done 'it?'" 

"Oh, come on, Jessie, you can tell me!  Everyone knows that 
you two are together--"

"We are not 'together,' Amy!  And I don't care what 
'everyone' thinks!  We're just friends, that's all," I cut 
her off.  I could feel the throbbing begin in my head.  I 
needed to get away from her before she made the anger 
percolate.

Amy's face fell.  "And you're happy with that?"

"Perfectly."  I turned to go.

"Well then, maybe you need to tell him that 'cause I don't 
think he is."  

I watched her saunter away.  Her statement had shocked me, 
but I wasn't about to let it be known.  What did she know 
anyway?  She had been an exotic dancer before They came!  I 
gave myself a minute to calm down, then walked back the way 
I had come.

-----

"Do you believe that there is someone out there for 
everyone?" Jake asked me from his spot underneath our usual 
painting as I approached.  We had taken to eating lunch in 
the foyer of the courthouse, under a painting entitled 
"Freedom Journey."  It was an abstract piece by a Dene 
artist, and I didn't understand it, but it evoked a strong 
feeling from me every time I looked at the swirls of red 
and black.

I brushed some invisible dirt off the bench before sitting 
down beside Jake.  "Yeah, I'd like to think so.  I don't 
think I've met him or her yet."

His left eyebrow went up at my implication but he didn't 
ask.  Instead, he said casually, "Oh?  I think I've met 
mine."

I was busy unpacking my lunch and didn't really absorb his 
words.  "That's nice," I think I said.  When I looked up 
again, I met his disappointed-looking eyes for only a 
second before they went back to his sandwich.  I didn't 
know whether to ask him about his weird mood or not, but 
didn't get a chance.

"Hey, do you think there are other groups out there?  You 
know, of survivors?"  Jake asked around a mouthful of 
peanut butter and jam.

"I don't know.  It's possible."

"I'd bet the President is safe in some godforsaken 
underground facility.  I can see her being whisked away 
after her televised address to the nation."  He took a swig 
of his rootbeer.

"I'm not sure what happened to our Prime Minister.  I think 
he was in Switzerland or someplace like that...at a peace 
conference."

"If only we could've been at peace with ourselves.  Maybe 
then we would've had time to prepare for this," Jake 
contemplated.

"Do you think governments knew about the Blague before They 
came?" I asked incredulously.

"Of course!  You'd be surprised at how much the government 
knows."

We finished our lunch debating just how much of the truth 
the public was allowed to know.  I was heading back to the 
clinic when I realized that I had forgotten to ask Jake if 
he was happy with our friendship.  It had been in the back 
of my mind ever since Amy's comments, but I was relieved 
that I had avoided the question for another day, even if I 
had honestly forgotten.

-----

A month after we had settled in Pride Creek, the 
restlessness started.  Two hours after we all witnessed yet 
another heated discussion between the men assigned to 
security--in which Jacques took a swing at Mulder--a 
decision was made to send some people down south to see 
what was out there.  Jacques immediately volunteered to 
lead the first scouting team, and Keith, Ryan, Jimmy, 
Lance, and Eli signed up to go with him.  I was glad Jake 
didn't sign up, but I didn't tell him that. 

The first night the men were gone, I found Amy at my door.  
"Hey, stranger," she said, inviting herself into my room.  
"What's up?" she asked, flopping onto the bed I had 
vacated.  She picked up my abandoned book and flipped pages 
aimlessly.  "I'm bored."

"Already?  How are you going to survive the next couple of 
days?  He's only been gone what?  Fourteen hours?"

"I've got you, Jessie."  Amy flashed a big smile my way.

I sat down on the carpet beside the bed.  "Amy..." I didn't 
know how to tell her I didn't want to hang out with her 
constantly.  "Hey, be careful with that!" 

She stopped her impromptu juggling with the book, giving me 
a questioning look.

"It's not mine.  I borrowed it from Jake," I admitted.

"Ooh, so what's happening on that front?" she asked 
immediately, sitting up on the bed.

"Nothing.  I told you.  We're friends, that's all."

"That's unfortunate.  I was sure he was interested..." she 
trailed off.

"What made you think that?" 

"The way he looks at you.  Don't you see it?"

"See what?" 

"God, you must be blind!  His eyes light up when you're 
around.  Haven't you noticed how he's insinuated himself 
into your life?  I think he wants you."

I wondered whether she was right or not.  It did seem 
strange that he had picked me to befriend.  "I don't want a 
boyfriend," I told her.

"Why not?  God knows there's nothing else to do around 
here!"

I couldn't help the snicker that came out of my mouth.  "Is 
that all that Ryan's good for?"

She laughed wholeheartedly.  "No, he's also a very good 
cook.  He made that pie we had for dessert last night.  
Wasn't it delicious?"  I didn't have a chance to agree 
before she spoke again.  "I think he's the one."

"The one?"

"The one I'm gonna marry."

"Amy!  You've only known him for three weeks!"

"So?"

"You can't possibly know him well enough--"

"I know that I love him.  And that he loves me.  Isn't that 
good enough?"

"What about respect, honesty, and kindness?  What about 
trust?"

"You think too much, Jessie.  No wonder you and Jake aren't 
going anywhere!"

I had no comeback for her.  I couldn't tell her that I 
didn't want my relationship with Jake to go any further, 
that I couldn't be more than friends with him without being 
totally honest.  I couldn't trust anyone, not even Jake.

-----

I closed the door of my room and leaned back against it.  
Amy's Ryan was gone.  He'd been DOA but Dana tried to 
revive him anyway.  I think we'd both known that it was too 
late.  

God, the blood!  There had been so much blood!  He'd been 
slashed across the throat and had bled out.  The other men 
had dressed his wound the best they could and carried him 
back.  It had been a three-day journey, and Ryan had lost 
consciousness on the third day.  I didn't want to know how 
close they'd been to home.

They'd made it as far as Slave Lake before they were 
attacked and robbed of their meager supply of food.  Was 
this how we were all going to die?  Were we to be killed by 
our own while running from the Blague?  Turning against 
each other would only be our downfall, yet selfishness 
likely ensured an individual's survival.

I closed my eyes and let the tears fall.  I couldn't get 
Amy's voice out of my mind.  She had been hysterical, 
screaming with grief.  Dana eventually had to sedate her.  
She helped me hold her down so that the needle wouldn't 
miss its mark.  I couldn't hold her by myself.  

I slid down the door and curled by knees into my chest.  
God, Amy, I'm so sorry!  I had tried to wrap my arms around 
her at first, offering comfort, but she'd slapped my hands 
away, wailing continuously.  

She might've been a constant annoyance, but she had 
probably been the only thing keeping me sane in the first 
month of our acquaintance.  She had just found out about 
her lover's death and what had I done?  I'd treated her 
like a rabid animal, something wild that needed to be taken 
down.  I wondered if I'd left bruises on her arms.

When Jake found me two hours later, I was numb.  I let him 
pull me up off the floor and into his arms.  My arms stayed 
at my sides while his hands caressed my back and shoulders.  
"You don't have anything to feel guilty about," he 
whispered.  

-----

I started to awaken.  I felt a cool breeze slide over my 
body and instinctively reached down to pull the covers up.  
In blindly searching for the sheets, I realized that I had 
no clothes on.  My still-sleepy brain deduced that I 
must've slept in the nude due to one of those sticky summer 
heatwave nights.  But within a minute, my mind remembered 
that it was only spring.

My eyes snapped open and reality shocked me when I saw that 
I was facing a wall that wasn't mine.  Suddenly, it all 
returned to me.  

Everyone in the community had gathered on the shore of 
Pride Creek the evening before for Ryan's funeral.  He was 
to be cremated, since Amy had protested vehemently at the 
idea of burying him; The Blague had taken over Earth, and 
she didn't want his body remaining here if They were 
successful, if we didn't make it.  

Eli suggested having a celebration of Ryan's life at one of 
the two bars in town, but after many tears being shed at 
the funeral, no one was up for a party.  Besides, the bars 
were empty; they had likely been first to be cleaned out in 
September, and alcohol would have helped numb the grief for 
a while.

Amy wanted to be alone--well actually, she had screamed at 
Jake about not understanding how it felt to lose someone 
because he still had his parents--so Jake and I ended up 
back in his room.  He was clearly upset with what Amy had 
said, but didn't want to talk about it.  "She knows we've 
all suffered losses.  She's just striking out in her 
grief," was all he said on the matter.  I didn't ask him 
about those he'd lost, not wanting to bring up Before.  We 
were depressed enough already.

We sat on his carpet, talking softly about Ryan, and life 
and death.  Half an hour or so later, he suddenly stood up 
during a lull in our conversation, walked away, picked up 
his backpack by the door and started rifling through it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, suppressing a yawn.

He produced a new bottle of rye from his backpack, saying, 
"Let's drink to Ryan."

I jumped up from the floor.  "Where did you get that?" I 
demanded, not sure if I really wanted to know.

"Trent and I found someone's private stash this morning 
when we were on patrol," he confessed without a hint of 
guilt, placing the bottle on the dresser.

I opened and closed my mouth without saying anything.  I 
wasn't his mother.  I wasn't going to scold him about 
entering former residents' houses with no good reason.  I 
wasn't up for it, and I didn't want to hear his "Well, 
they're not going to need it anymore."

Perhaps it was my tired mind supplying my brain with 
misinformation, but I remembered thinking, I'm thirsty--I 
could use a drink.  I didn't know how knowledge of the 
effects of alcohol escaped me that night.  

"Do you have any Coke?" I had asked, yielding to insanity.

"Yeah, if you don't mind it warm."  Jake took two cans out 
of his bag, offering them to me.  I set them on his 
dresser, debating whether to go downstairs for ice or not.  

I hadn't even noticed that he was no longer beside me until 
Jake returned from the bathroom with two glasses.  He broke 
the seal on the bottle and poured us both a generous 
quantity of rye, considering the size of the glasses.  
After adding the Coke, he started to look around for 
something to mix with, but I stopped him with my "Let me," 
using my index finger to stir the contents of each glass.  
"I'm not germy," I told him when he gave me an odd look.

He handed me one of the glasses.  "To Ryan," he proclaimed 
and I echoed as we clinked glasses.  I took a sip and 
savored the familiar taste.  I couldn't remember the last 
time I'd had rye.  I stopped thinking too hard; trying to 
remember Before would only remind me of all those I'd lost 
last summer.  I returned to the here and now to catch Jake 
saying something about starlight, but didn't ask him to 
repeat it.

I'd only plan to have one or two drinks, but I somehow 
forgot to stop.  I remembered Jake reading to me, then 
stopping because it didn't seem right to be do something so 
normal.  I remembered playing Go Fish with him, and being 
frustrated that I couldn't concentrate.  I remembered our 
easy laughter as the evening wore on, two bathroom breaks, 
dancing without music--I even remembered staring at his 
chest and wondering if he had washboard abs--but things got 
fuzzy after that.

I could only remember bits and pieces of what transpired 
after my sixth--or maybe eighth--drink.   My mind brought 
up memories I could not be sure were real: an unsuccessful 
attempt to play poker on his bed, surprise when his fingers 
moved to lace with mine, helping him pull his shirt over 
his head, his mouth on my naked breast as he braced himself 
above me, hitting my head on the headboard during a 
particularly forceful thrust, trying to keep from screaming 
out loud... 

I couldn't remember what it felt like, yet I had flashes of 
images.  I tried to recall what his mouth felt like, 
imagining it warm and moist, but my mind drew a blank.  Had 
Jake been any good?  I could only imagine that the stifled 
scream in my memory was brought on by intense pleasure.  I 
raised an arm to the top of my head and groaned when I 
touched the bump on top.  The pain was like a bucket of 
cold water.

Oh my God, what had I done?

Yeah, so maybe Jake and I had a weird relationship, but 
strange as it might've been, I was happy with it.  And now 
it was ruined.

My head throbbed.  The pain was not sharp, but every few 
milliseconds or so, I felt a twinge of discomfort coming 
from somewhere beneath my eyes.  I could almost see the 
pain.  It started from somewhere in the middle of my brain, 
swelling into a wave of nerves and receptors.  It intruded 
and meshed with the images swirling in my head.

I closed my eyes and tried to wish everything away, but it 
was no use.  My mind was ready to take the exit ramp to go 
down that highway of guilt.  I couldn't let it.  I already 
regretted last night and that was enough.  I needed to 
salvage what was left of our friendship before I felt the 
guilt of ruining what we once had.

-----

I did the only thing my cowardly heart could do: I avoided 
Jake.  Luckily, he'd already left for patrol when I'd 
awoken in his room that morning, so it was a simple escape.  
But the past two days had not been so easy.  I only stayed 
in my room when I knew Jake was working, I made sure I was 
away from the clinic during his lunch break, I stopped 
going to the cafeteria for supper, and made myself scarce 
whenever I spotted anyone who might talk to Jake later on.  
If Dana noticed my strange behavior, she didn't ask.

One would've thought it would have been relatively easy to 
hide in Pride Creek, with so many buildings and so few 
people.  On the third night of avoiding Jake, he found me 
in the central stairwell of Pride Creek School.

"So this is where you've been sleeping?"  The familiar 
voice shattered the silence in the stairwell, echoing 
upwards.  I scrambled from where I was sitting on my 
sleeping bag to my feet, extinguishing the lantern at my 
side quickly.  He turned on his flashlight, the beam 
focused to the floor, where it reflected off the silver 
cover of my dropped book. 

"I know what you're scared of, Jessie," he said quietly.

No, he didn't know.  He had no idea.  

"But I'm good at pretending, too."

I backed further away from him, feeling both nervous and 
foolish for doing so.

"We can pretend it never happened," he suggested.

I didn't know if it was possible.  Yes, the alcohol might 
have blurred most of my memory, but not all of it.

"We can pretend," he repeated.  "I can't lose you...as a 
friend."

"You don't need me," I whispered, unsure whether I wanted 
him to hear me or not.

"No, but I do want to be your friend."

"Why?  You've made other friends."

There was a moment of silence before he answered, "You give 
me peace."

Even in the almost dark, he must have sensed the strange 
look I gave him.  In my job at the hospital, I had equated 
peace to the acceptance of death I'd seen in the patients; 
my mind had automatically thought that maybe Jake was 
dying.  "You mean what you say," he started explaining.  
"You're not hypocritical.  You don't dwell on the negative.  
The others worry too much.  I like being with you because 
you make me forget.  You give me peace."

I didn't understand what he was trying to say.  He didn't 
know me as well as he thought.  But I could relate to what 
he said about forgetting.  When we were together, it was 
easy to forget that things weren't normal, that I wasn't 
normal.  I stepped away from the wall, one step closer to 
him.

"Still friends?" he asked hesitantly.

"Still friends."

-----

I might've wished that Jake and I could pretend we hadn't 
crossed the line, but once we'd agreed to go back, I found 
myself betrayed by my memories.  We'd be talking at lunch, 
and I'd realize that I wasn't following the conversation 
but obsessing about his lips, wondering where he'd kissed 
me, trying to remember what he tasted like.  I never let 
on--I couldn't.  I wasn't safe for him.  I needed to 
maintain a certain amount of distance, and becoming friends 
had already been a mistake, although impossible to avoid.  
I had to try better at staying in control, at pretending.

Perhaps it was only an indication of us becoming closer 
friends, but I couldn't help feeling as if Jake had lied 
about being able to pretend.  The pressure to move beyond 
friendship first came in the disguise of casual questions.  
We seemed to be venturing more and more into the personal, 
and I wasn't sure if it would be more suspicious if I 
avoided answering.

"So how did you manage to avoid getting stung?" he asked 
once between bites of pasta salad.  

I did a double take, as he had hurdled over the sign 
announcing Things-We-Don't-Talk-About.  Most of life Before 
was in this forbidden territory, as well as the reasons why 
we'd survived while so many others had not.

"Where were you when the bees came?"  His second question 
on the heels of the first convinced me that he was 
blatantly ignoring the unspoken rule.  He looked at me 
expectantly, as if there was no reason for my hesitance.

"I was in the laundry room.  I hid in the dryer, but I was 
stung.  Twice," I admitted.

"Natural immunity?"

"I guess."

"Well, whaddaya know?  Me, too."

I didn't know what to say to that.  I had assumed that 
everyone else had either been lucky to escape being stung, 
or naturally immune like myself, but had never actually 
asked anyone.

"It's genetic, you know.  You know my parents are immune; 
that's why we all made it.  Where do you think you got it 
from?"

I paused, unsure how much I wanted to reveal.  Jake was 
just curious, I believed.  "My dad didn't make it."

"And your mother?"

"I lost her when I was eleven."

"I'm sorry.  Was it cancer?"

I gave him a questioning look, but he didn't elaborate.  
"No, a car accident."

"Was she an abductee?" 

I almost dropped my bowl.  My head swam with the 
implications.  How did Jake know about that?  Just how much 
did he know?  Did he suspect?

Jake continued, ignoring my silence.  "The tests might've 
given her immunity."

I exhaled loudly.  "I wouldn't know.  She died before she 
could tell me anything."  I shoved my unfinished lunch back 
into its bag and stood up from the bench.  "If you'll 
excuse me, I'm going back to the clinic.  I want to get a 
head start on the afternoon reading," I told Jake, 
referring to the medical texts Dana and I had been 
reviewing lately.  I walked out of the courthouse before 
Jake could ask me anything else.

"We need to find out what's going on, Scully.  I'm not 
going to sit here and grieve without knowing the truth.  
Without outside contact, we're asking for an attack!" I 
could hear Mulder's voice as I walked down the hallway 
towards the clinic.

"I know.  I just don't want to lose you," Dana replied in a 
plaintive voice I had never heard from her before. 

"You won't.  I'll be careful."

I stomped my rubber boots a little to announce my presence 
before going inside the clinic.  Dana and Mulder were just 
stepping apart from an embrace and a long-ago memory of 
walking in on my parents hugging in the kitchen assaulted 
me.  I instantly felt guilty for my earlier jealous 
attitude towards Jake.  It wasn't his fault his family 
happened to stay intact when so many others did not.   

"Hi, Jessie.  How was lunch?" Dana asked, tucking a loose 
strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey, Jessie."  Mulder gave me something I interpreted as a 
smile, then turned back to Dana.  "I'll see you at supper," 
he told her before giving her a peck on the cheek and 
heading for the door.

"What's going on?" I couldn't help asking, once he was 
gone.

"You'll find out tonight," was all Dana supplied.  

After supper, Mulder announced a brief meeting, in which we 
found out that another foray out of town would be 
attempted.  We would be needing more food and medicine 
soon, and the first unsuccessful venture had at least given 
us the knowledge that there were supplies still available 
out there.  

Mulder asked for volunteers to accompany him, and I 
immediately turned to my right to prevent Jake from 
volunteering.  I panicked when he wasn't in his seat.  
"Where's Jake?" I asked Jimmy frantically.

"I don't know.  He was just here," Jimmy shrugged.  I 
scanned the cafeteria, no longer caring how obvious I 
looked.  "He's over there," Jimmy said, pointing to three 
tables away, where Jake was talking to Trent.  

"What's wrong?" Amy asked.

"He can't go," I told her, feeling physically ill.

"Take it easy, Jessie."  She took my hand, giving it a 
small squeeze.  "Go tell him."

I shook my head "no."  I couldn't.  I was the one who 
wanted to pretend.  I couldn't be weak.  I needed to be a 
supportive friend, not a clingy girlfriend.  And so I sat.  
I watched as Jake and Trent approached Mulder and felt my 
stomach drop.  

I was surprised a moment later when Jake turned around with 
a frown and left the cafeteria without coming back to the 
table.  A minute later my senses returned to me, and I got 
up to follow him.

I assumed that Jake had gone back to his room, and 
grudgingly made my way up the stairs.  I could hear someone 
running further up in the stairwell, and I wondered whether 
it was Jake or not, but did not call his name.  By the time 
I made it to the fourth floor, there was only silence in 
the stairwell.  I pulled open the door only to see an empty 
hallway.

I hadn't been to this floor since the morning we pretended 
didn't happen, and I walked briskly to Jake's door feeling 
self-conscious, as if the hotel wallpaper was taunting me.  
I knocked quickly, feeling foolish for wanting to escape 
from something unseen.  Jake opened the door and waved me 
in, not waiting to see if I'd follow.  I stepped into his 
room and realized that this was no sanctuary.

Jake didn't notice my discomfort, busy pacing the carpet in 
front of the bed.  "He told me to stay and take care of 
Mom," he started.  "And he damn well knows that's a stupid 
excuse!  Mom can take care of herself!"

I inched my way from the door to a spot along the wall, 
standing stiff.  "I don't understand why he doesn't want me 
to go.  He knows how valuable I can be--I'm his son!"  He 
flopped back onto his bed, but before he could get 
comfortable, abruptly stood up again.  "I'm sorry, Jessie.  
Have a seat," he directed me to the bed.  I moved slowly 
from the wall and sat down on the end of the bed, 
automatically sitting cross-legged.  A vivid memory of him 
leaning in to kiss me as I sat cross-legged near the end of 
his bed flashed in my mind.  I uncrossed my legs and 
touched my feet to the carpet. 

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asked, rummaging in his 
backpack.  "I'm sure I've got some water or something."

"No, thank you.  I'm fine."

"Are you sure?  I have some vodka we can mix," he pointed 
to the bottle of juice on his dresser.  "And I've got some 
more rye," he grinned slyly.

I could feel the heat in my face and was sure I was 
blushing furiously.  I looked down and realized that I was 
wrinkling Jake's blanket, fisting it at my sides.  I 
remembered another time I had wrinkled his sheets.  I 
needed to get out of here.  It was too hard to pretend at 
the scene of the crime.  I stood up again.  "I don't know 
what I'm doing here.  I've got to go," I told him.

He abandoned his search for refreshment and stopped me at 
the door.  "I didn't mean to make you feel weird.  I'm just 
in a strange mood.  Why don't you stay?  We can even read 
poetry if you like."

"Poetry?" I grimaced.

"You don't like poetry?" he asked incredulously.

"Too much work."

"What if I explain it all to you?"

"Nah, I'm just not a poetry girl.  Sorry," I reached for 
the doorknob.

"A fairytale?"

I opened the door.  "If it's got princesses and castles, 
and a happy ending, you can meet me in the lobby in ten," I 
told him as I left the room.

He poked his head out after me as I walked down the 
hallway.  "What if it has trolls and witches?"

"I'll see you downstairs, Jake," I called back, smiling as 
I headed for the stairs.

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