Source: xfc

Escape

By Mary Kleinsmith

Episode: Little Green Men

Summary: Mulder and Scully continue to evade the Blue Beret Crash Retrieval

Team

Category: Post-ep, UST

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, and I'm not profiting monetarily from

this.

Archive: yes, just keep my name attached

Acknowledgments: Dedicated to Vickie and Deb, who are both great partners,

and thank you to Brenda and Vickie for the beta.

Written especially for After the Fact

Escape

By Mary Kleinsmith

"Mr. & Mrs. George Hale?" Scully whispered, incredulous. She admitted

to herself that she'd given the thought of spending her life with

Mulder a perusal a few times, that wasn't the name she ever expected

to share with him.

"Sure, why not? He has his credit card, his passport, a driver's

license. Even pictures of a family, just to make it authentic."

Mulder whispered back, smiling from his position beside her. They

were in the elevator going up to the 15th floor of a Puerto Rican

luxury hotel.

"Aren't you afraid they'll find us? The crash retrieval team?"

"They'll never find us here. They'll never THINK to find us here.

From the minute we stepped over that threshold, we were just plain old

Sarah and George Hale, American tourists on their honeymoon."

"How secure is this alias of yours, Mulder? Could they figure out

that you and George Hale are one in the same? What steps did you take

to insure the safety of it?"

"Look, I'm not comfortable talking in a public elevator," Mulder said,

taking her hand. "So why don't we wait until we get into our room,

Mrs. Hale, and then we can finish our 'unfinished business.'" He

leered at her, doing a good imitation of a new husband, eager for the

big event. If there were security cameras in here, they'd believe it.

Not that they might not have already heard enough to blow that cover.

It all depended on how sensitive the microphones were. And if anybody

thought to check out those security tapes.

They'd been damn lucky, and they both knew it. With nothing more than

the contents of Mulder's backpack, they'd made their way cross-country

from the Arecibo Tracking Station to the city, welcoming the anonymity

that came with it. The fact that they could very easily have been

killed was not lost on them.

If the clerk at the hotel had been surprised that they'd arrived both

without luggage and reservations, he didn't comment on it. He'd

efficiently checked his registry and found a room available and ready

for occupation, which the agents had grabbed. Scully had used her

cellular, surprised it even worked here, to call in and request a

couple of sick days, not giving the staff at Quantico any indication

of where she was.

"Wow," was all Scully could manage as she beheld the interior of their

room. "I didn't think anything this fancy existed south of the

border!"

"Well, Agent Scully, I'm guessing you may be well traveled inside the

continental US, but not much outside it." They moved inside, where

Mulder dropped his backpack on the luxurious sofa. There was a living

room-type area, complete with an entertainment center. Without

hesitation, he went to the equipment, turning on the TV.

"Mulder, this is hardly time to be watching television!" Scully

scolded. "You haven't changed a bit since we were partners."

"You have no idea," Mulder mumbled, continuing to flip. He finally

settled on what appeared to be an adult station, showing a man and a

woman in erotic bliss.

"What are you doing?!" she finally demanded. Mulder grabbed her hand

and led her to the furthest corner of the room.

"I'm keeping people out! We're supposed to be on our honeymoon,

remember? Anybody approaching the door will hear the sounds from the

television and not dare to disturb us." Scully was obviously

impressed with his idea. "What, you think Oxford gave me a degree

just for being insane?" It was clearly a rhetorical question.

"So, what now?" Scully asked.

"I need to get some sleep - I haven't had any in three days. But

first, look around and see if you can find a safe. I want to lock up

the tape for safety." A quick search turned up one under the vanity

in the two-sink bathroom. Locking up the tape, Mulder searched the

room before finding the most obscure place possible to put the key.

"I'll make a deal with you, Mulder. You give me first shot at the

bathtub, and I'll take the couch. You can have the bed."

"No, Scully. You can have the bed. I'm so tired, I could fall asleep

sitting up anyway." Mulder did look weary, she noted. But he also

looked sweaty, dirty, and downright disgusting. She couldn't see him

going to bed anywhere like that.

"Okay, final offer," Scully proposed. " There's a tub and a shower

stall in there. You take the shower and the bed, and I'll take the

tub and the sofa. The couch isn't long enough for somebody as tall as

you, and you'll end up with a crick in your back. I won't take no for

an answer."

"You're lucky I don't have the strength to argue," Mulder said,

opening the armoire and finding two cozy terrycloth robes, one of

which he tossed to her.

"Here. Get yourself into the tub, and once you're in, I'll slip into

the shower."

"Think the water will hold out?" she smiled, looking forward to being

warm and comfortable again.

"It's a big hotel - I'm sure it will. I'm just going to take a quick

one so I can get to bed." She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving

him to slump on the couch. He knew he shouldn't sitting there, as

dirty as he was, but he'd been on his last reserves. Scully had found

him unconscious in the tracking station, and he wouldn't have been a

bit surprised if he'd been simply sleeping - he'd had little enough of

that lately. Life, quite honest, had become miserable, more of a

chore than a treat. He'd lost the Files, and he'd lost his partner,

when those were the only two things that had made life enjoyable for

quite some time now. He should get up, make up the couch for Scully,

go through their limited supplies and see what they'd need to pick up

in the morning. And mostly, he'd have to spend some time deciding

just how long he was willing to hide out like this.

He knew Scully wouldn't leave her life for long. Unlike him, she had a

family and friends who loved her back in the U.S. They needed to talk

before he made any decisions. He found he didn't WANT to make any

without her.

Watching the movie without really seeing it - which was saying

something for him - he jumped when she called to him that she was in

the tub.

Expecting to see her up to her chin in bubbles, he was surprised to

open the door to total darkness. "What happened to the lights?" He

half laughed.

"I figured there'd be less temptation this way. No peeking. But if

you need the light, I guess it would be okay."

"Maybe just this little one," Mulder said, snapping on the night-light

feature. He still couldn't see Scully in the dimness, which was fine

with him. Tossing the white robe over the top of the shower stall, he

closed himself behind the door fully clothed. He wasn't about to put

the clean robe over his filthy body, especially when it was the only

thing he had to wear for now once his shower was finished.

He wanted to talk to Scully as he showered, had so much he wanted to

say to her, including expressing his thanks for pulling his butt out

of the proverbial - and almost literal - fire. Maybe later, before

they turned in, they'd get a chance to sit down together.

The water was warm, bordering on hot, and Mulder basked in it for a

few minutes before opening the hotel-supplied bar of soap and

beginning to build a lather on the wash rag. It felt so good, but

before long, he'd washed all of him that there was to wash. Feeling

happy just to be clean again, he turned off the water, dried off, and

slipped into the robe.

Backing out, he was careful to keep his face averted. "I'll just pick

up my dirty clothes and get out of your way, Scully."

"I don't suppose this hotel has a laundry service that can have ours

cleaned by morning, do they?"

"They might, I'm not sure. I'll call and find out." Plopping down in

an easy chair, Mulder reaching for the telephone, reading the surface

to see which numbers he needed to punch. He finally found the correct

one.

"This is George Hale in Room 1532. Can you tell me if the hotel has a

laundry service? It does? That's wonderful. How does this work, and

when can they have the clothes back?" He paused, listening intently

to the party on the other end of the line. "3:00 tomorrow? Isn't

there any way they can be done sooner? You see, the airline lost my

and my wife's luggage, and all we have to wear are the clothes on our

backs. We can go shopping for what we need to hold us over, but only

once these clothes are clean." He listened again, a smile growing on

his face. "That's terrific. Thank you so much. I'll get it together

and have it ready when the bellhop gets here."

For some reason, the prospect of having to go back into the bathroom

with Scully there daunted him, but he needed to get her clothes if

they were to have them washed by morning - the promise made by the

concierge. Cautiously, he tapped on the door.

"What is it this time?" Scully said drowsily. The bath must be

soothing her, he figured.

"I need your clothes. The hotel is sending up a bellboy to pick them

up. They say they'll be back by morning if we get them in now. Is it

okay if I come in and get them?"

"That probably wouldn't be the best idea you've ever had," Scully

chuckled. "I'm getting out anyway. I'll toss them out in a second."

He heard water sloshing, backed away, and within the minute, jeans, a

T-shirt, and assorted women's underclothing flew from a crack in the

doorway. Gathering them, he resisted the urge to study what he held

in his hands.

The bellboy had come and gone while he continued to hear the sound of

the hotel-supplied hairdryer moaning in the next room. For his call

this time, he retrieved his cellular from his pack, dialing the

familiar number from memory.

"Lone Gunmen."

"Turn off the tape, it's me, Langley," Mulder said. Some things never

changed. He paused a moment, then repeated. "I'm serious - turn it

off. This is life and death." This time, he could tell the click he

heard was genuine, and immediately heard not one, but three voices,

all speaking simultaneously. Finally, one was louder than the rest.

"Where the hell've you been?"

"I think I'd rather not say right now, especially on a line that could

be intercepted. So tell me, how'm I doing?"

Byers' calm voice picked up the conversation. "Better than we

expected. The military is a little pissed, but they're still not sure

you were involved to begin with. They've got no proof, their leads

have gone dead, and the Blue Beret crash retrieval team is already on

to another assignment."

"So it's safe?"

"If you can get back to Washington without attracting attention,

you'll be home free," Frohike said confidently, and Mulder was

inclined to believe him. "By the way, will you be able to handle the

trip all by yourself?" It was a question posed to acquire certain

information that they didn't want anybody eavesdropping to hear.

Their key was to protect Scully.

"If I have problems, I'm sure I can find a little help very nearby,

thanks. The airline lost Sarah Hale's luggage, though." Message

sent: Scully was alive, well, and with him, but was going to need

papers if she was to get home with him. Now he had to see if they

understood.

"I'm sure that she'll have all the important stuff she needs for the

trip home. You know, there's a nice little shop on the square that

should have some things in just her size." Message received. They

were going to send papers in the name of Sarah Hale for Scully to the

shop where they were to pick them up.

"I'm sure she'll appreciate that."

"You are a lucky man, my friend."

"I know. Thanks for the help guys. I'm going to get some sleep. The

trip home is going to be a long one."

"Goodnight. Sleep well."

Turning off the phone to save the battery, he secreted it back into

his pack, which he carried to the side of his bed. He wanted it at

his fingertips during the night. Just then, Scully emerged from the

bathroom, looking clean, relaxed, and, he admitted, beautiful.

"You certainly look better," she said. "Nearly presentable, even."

"I'm afraid this is as good as it gets at this point," he smiled,

spreading his arms. "Except for what a full night of sleep will do."

"I prescribe that for both of us, Mulder. Let's get to bed."

"I called the Gunmen," he admitted, trying to ignore that little sigh

she always gave whenever he mentioned the trio. "They've been

checking their contacts since I left DC, keeping up with the news."

"Which is?"

"The crash retrieval team has been reassigned to a new case. We're in

the clear as long as we can get back to the States without undue

attention."

"And can we do that?" She turned off the lights, except for the one

that remained beside the bed, and took her place on the couch.

"Thanks for the comforter, by the way," she said, pulling it up to her

chin.

"For George and Sarah Hale, it should be simple. We'll keep an eye

over our shoulders, and try the airport tomorrow afternoon. In the

morning, there's a boutique we need to visit. We'll get you something

to wear on the trip home, and the guys are sending Sarah Hale's ID,

driver's license, credit cards, and passport there for us to pick up.

You don't really need the passport, but I figure, it adds to the

legitimacy."

"Sounds like a plan," Scully said as Mulder flicked off the light, the

room suddenly bathed in total darkness.

The hotel room was silent for several minutes, and Scully thought for

sure that Mulder had fallen asleep until a soft voice drifted over.

"Scully, you awake?"

"Mmm hmm."

"I just want to . . . " he stumbled, uncertain. "I know this is hard

for you, but . . ."

"You're welcome, Mulder. Any time."

"I'm actually still surprised that you're here. All the special

precautions you must have had to take to get down here. . . ."

"I learned from the best," she smiled into the darkness. "Look,

Mulder, there's something you need to understand. I should have made

this clear back when they first closed the X-Files, but I guess I just

presumed you knew. The bureau can break up our partnership, they can

separate us. They can lock me away at Quantico with a bunch of green

recruits and they can put you on the shittiest detail that exists next

to emptying garbage cans and scrubbing toilets. But my spirit will

always be with you. Don't ever forget that."

There was silence, then Mulder's voice, laced with what sounded like

awe. "I thought they took it all," was all he said.

"You may not have the X-Files, or a basement office, but you have me

and you always will. We've known each other a little more than a

year, Mulder, but in that time, you've become my closest friend. And

I'm not about to give up that friendship just because of this. I'm a

doctor, you're a psychologist. We don't NEED the bureau, even if we

want it. So next time I see you at the office, I want to SEE you,

talk to you. And outside of the work, we WILL be seen in public

together."

"Sounds like I really short changed you . . . us . . . doesn't it?"

"We're still getting to know each other, Mulder. So here's something

new to learn about me. There isn't a single soul on this planet who I

will let interfere with our friendship. Nobody." She was determined,

and her voice expressed it.

"So you're saying that we can't meet at the Watergate anymore?"

Mulder sounded wistful.

"Can we meet there? Of course. Can we ONLY meet there? No. And to

celebrate our homecoming, when we get there, I'm taking you to dinner,

so start deciding on a restaurant, Mulder."

"We have a long trip ahead of us, first," Mulder warned cautiously.

"Do you think we'll have any problems?"

"With Mulder and Scully together again? What could possibly go

wrong?"

"They were never truly apart, partner."

The End