Title: The Alpha and Omega III Author: shawntaw Rating: G Spoilers: Post - "The Truth" (not mine) Summary: "Any ideas at all of how we're going about this?" Mulder finally spoke, "I believe it was my personal hero Han Solo who said, 'I'm making this up as I go along." Author's Note: I should mention that in my world the Lone Gunmen faked their deaths and are very much alive. Thank you very much.:) Also, you might get a little lost if you don't read "Genesis" and the other "The Alpha and Omega"s first. Disclaimers: I don't own them. I'm only borrowing them for fun, not for profit. GOOD NEWS!!! DANIELA'S SITE IS BACK UP AND THAT MEANS YOU CAN NOW GO VISIT MY WORK AT http://www.geocities.com/corran_14776/shawntaw.html AND PRETTY SOON THIS WIP WILL BE THERE AS WELL AS AT WIPS OF OUR LIVES!!! YEAH DANIELA!!!:) *************************************************************************** ************************************************ ~~ Back to present ~~ Now Mulder mulled over his mental list of things to be done. Well, they needed to purchase a new laptop, and he needed to check the balance on the account he'd set up years before with his inheritance under yet another alias. *Sometimes paranoia pays off* he thought wryly. So far they'd been living off the credit cards and the false i.d. the Gunmen sent him, but now that they'd chosen new aliases for themselves that would have to be changed. AND he would have to get the guys to send him new i.d.s to access his 'inheritance account' - as he thought of it - because he hadn't brought his with him in the rush to get away. Maybe it would be a good idea not to stick with any one alias too long until they made it to D.C. That way no one could track their progress. He decided he would stick with the i.d. the Gunmen gave him until the halfway point in their trip and then switch to his new, chosen one. In the meantime, Scully would be in limbo i.d.-wise, but it wouldn't matter as long as she was with him. He looked over at her again and watched the tendrils of her hair caress her face and whip away again as the wind blew them. She looked so weary. Mulder breathed deeply of the cool breeze coming in the windows as he tore his eyes from her and back to the road. Now was not the time for regrets. *************************************************************************** ************************************ They pulled into a roadside motel out in the middle of nowhere just as the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. Scully looked up from where she'd been staring out the window for the last few hours, startled. "Shouldn't we keep going, Mulder?" "William," he corrected. They were going to have to get used to their aliases, "and, no, I figured we should call it a night. We'll need the rest." She frowned and quickly looked out the window again. "Don't make me call you that." Mulder paled. He hadn't thought how difficult it would be for her to say their son's name, much less address him by that name. "We could come up with a nickname-" "Poopyhead?" she suggested without turning her head, a small pained smile curling her lips. "Oh, ha, ha, Scully," Mulder was glad to see she was trying to keep this light. "Um, Spooky would be a little obvious, wouldn't it?" Mulder joked. Her smile grew, but she said nothing. "Surely not Bill," he continued, mock appalled. A small laugh sounded from Scully and she turned to look at him in the dimming light as they sat in the motel's parking lot. "No, not Bill," she agreed. "And, not Fox," she added with an arched eyebrow. He shook his head, "Please, no." "Liam," Scully said suddenly. "Huh?" "Liam is Scottish for William, I think," Scully explained, "and didn't you say you had Scottish in your family?" "Um, yeah, somewhere. Ok, Liam it is. My alias won't be William Wilson; it'll be Liam Wilson. Better?" Scully's expression didn't change much, but he could read the gratefulness in her eyes, "Yes, thank you, Liam." His lips quirked, "No problem, my Katie." She drew a breath. For some reason, she REALLY liked the way he said that. HIS Katie. Scully leaned across the cab of the truck and kissed him softly on the lips. He gladly returned the kiss, taking a hand from where it rested on the steering wheel and clasping the back of her head, his large, tanned hand entwining with her golden hair. "I love you, Mulder," she whispered to his lips as she pulled away. "I love you too, Scully," he breathed back. The two parted and began to exit the truck, straightening slowly to stand on either side of the vehicle, working out the kinks from their long ride that day. *************************************************************************** ************************************************ Scully was silent as they paid the clerk for their motel room, but he could feel she had something to say. Mulder raised an inquiring eyebrow at her as they walked out of the front office and started for their room, each of them shouldering a duffel bag. "What, Scu- Katie?" Her lips tilted at the name; he could tell she was amused at the nickname he'd given her. "Well," she started, after looking quickly about and seeing the parking lot they traversed was deserted, "I don't mean to beat a dead horse, but we're not Liam and Katie Wilson yet, Mulder." "True," he agreed. "I mean, I'm nobody and you're," she leaned over to look at the receipt he held. Seeing what she was trying to do, he held it out for her to read. "And you're Mark Miller." He was nodding as he unlocked the door, "Not for long, Scully. I figure we'll use 'Mark' until we're almost there and then get the Gunmen to send us new identification under our chosen aliases for the rest of the trip and for D.C." Mulder opened the door and the two of them entered the stuffy room and set their bags down heavily. "Sounds fine to me," Scully said, too tired to argue or even debate the issue. She immediately stepped to the window air conditioner and twisted the knob. It came to loud, rattling life and she sighed, falling backwards with a whoosh onto the full-size bed. Mulder just stood there, hands in his pockets, watching her. "So, oh-great-one, what is our plan?" "Huh?" She lifted her head to look at him, leaving the rest of her body prone. "You know, the plan." At his blank look, she continued incredulously, "The plan for finding Gibson? Actually, Gibson, Doggett and the rest. Stopping colonization?" He swallowed. "Any ideas at all of how we're going about this?" Mulder finally spoke, "I believe it was my personal hero Han Solo who said, 'I'm making this up as I go along." Scully sat upright, "Mulder," she began to admonish. "Or was it when Harrison Ford played Indiana Jones? I get that mixed up sometimes.." he seemed deep in thought. Scully stood and approached him, hands on hips. "Mulder, we've GOT to have a plan. Some idea of what we're going to do. Hell, a STARTING place would be nice!" Mulder ran a hand thorough his hair, frustratedly, and Scully took a moment to admire his new longer 'do' and his developing facial hair. His glasses had slipped down his nose and he stabbed them back into position with his index finger in what was becoming another of his personal 'tics' of frustration. "I'm trying not to think too far ahead here, Scully. If I do, I start feeling overwhelmed. If I feel overwhelmed, then - lately - my throat has this annoying habit of trying to close up on me and I can't breathe, ok?!" She stepped closer and lay a hand on his arm. "The attacks are getting worse?" He shook his head, "No, I'm just getting worse at hiding them. Although," he added, "I was able to control one earlier with the deep breathing you taught me." Her palm rubbed a comforting path up and down his forearm, "That's good, Mulder." "All I know," he pulled away from her and began pacing in the small space, "is that we have to get to D.C. We have to get to the guys. When we do that, we'll decide what to do next." *************************************************************************** *********************************************** GRRRRRRRR-click-click-click.....GGGGGGRRRRRRRRRRR-click-click-click..... The odd sound slowly pierced Mulder's sleep, first becoming a part of his dream in the persona of some sort of defective grizzly bear that would growl and then click its teeth together. In the dream, this was odd enough to rouse Mulder from his dream state and he sat up in bed. Mulder immediately noticed the open door to the outside. "Scully?" he called into the darkness and looked beside him. She was gone. He threw back the covers and padded in bare feet and boxers to the open door, still muddled by sleep. GRRRRRRR-click-click...GRRRRR-click-click-click.... It was the truck. He could see the old truck in the middle of the parking lot, his view half-blocked by other vehicles. And, sitting in the driver's seat, partially glowing in her white p.j.s in the moonlight, was Scully. She was apparently trying to start the vehicle and it wasn't cooperating. Mulder frowned with confusion and, watching for broken glass and sharp rocks, walked across the concrete lot to the truck. "Scully? What are you doing?" He said, leaning in the driver's side window. She didn't answer, just kept turning the key in the ignition. "Scully?" He touched her arm, getting more scared than worried now. "They're calling.," she said quietly without turning to look at him. And still she tried to start the truck. GRRRRRRR-click-click-click....GRRRRRRR-click-click-click... "Who's calling?" Mulder said, all of the hairs standing up on the back of his neck and arms. "THEY are. They're calling..." her voice faded as if she had no more energy to talk. GRRRRRR-click-click-click.....GRRRRRRRR-click-click-click... She finally stopped trying to start the old pickup and opened the driver's side door. "Scully? Are you talking about the chip?" Mulder backed away from the truck to give her room and whispered as though THEY could hear him. For all he knew, THEY could. "Yes, Mulder, They're calling," Scully said reasonably and began to walk across the parking lot toward the highway. She made a ghostly figure, clad in white, ethereal in the pale moonlight, softly and slowly walking toward an irresistable force in her bare feet. "Scully? Scully! Listen to me," Mulder was following her frantically, wondering if he should go back to the room and put some clothes on and follow her to see what was up with THEM or whether he should just bodily drag her back to the room and refuse to let her go anywhere. "Scully, come back to the room with me and let's put some clothes on, ok? And then I'll see what's wrong with the truck and we'll go see THEM." "They're calling now," she explained as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What? Are you going to walk? And where are you going? Where are THEY calling you to, Scully?" He could feel the panic building in his chest. Oh, why didn't they think of the chip? They destroyed all the possible tracking devices, but forgot about the most obvious one. Mulder shook his head. No, it wasn't supposed to be a tracking device, only a method of contact and a tag for future experimentation. And then Mulder realized. That's why THEY were calling THEIR experimental subjects. To see if Scully was truly dead. They were taking inventory. If she were discovered alive, then THEY would know that Mulder was probably alive as well. The shadowy 'THEY' was trying to ferret them out. To confirm their deaths. Mulder couldn't blame them. He and Scully had more lives than a roomful of cats. But this was also good news. They had to call their subjects to them. If the chip were a tracking device, they could simply find her using it. During his revelation, Mulder had followed Scully to the edge of the highway and was following her as she began to walk in a southerly direction. "Where are you going, Scully?" He tried once more. Maybe he could find out something useful. "To them. They're calling," she would only answer in a calm voice, and continue walking. "How far? Do you know?" Mulder tried as he kept pace with her and hoped no one drove by this time of night and witnessed a man in his underwear chasing a woman in pajamas down a public highway. She looked at him and for a moment he swore he could see her conflict. There was a pause and a hitch in her step, but then she resumed walking and didn't answer him. He made his decision and ran ahead of her. Mulder then spun to face her and swooped her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "You can't go, Scully," he tried to explain as he walked back toward the motel. "They're calling," she replied rationally. "Well, too bad," Mulder responded, "THEY can't have you back." "Put me down. They're calling," she began to struggle as they crossed the parking lot. He spared a glance at the truck as they passed it. He had come so close to losing her. Saved by coincidence. Probably a faulty starter. Or maybe someone higher up was looking out for them? He spared a glance heavenward, but with Scully's increasing struggle decided this was not the time to contemplate his growing faith. "No way are you going anywhere; you're coming with me and we're contacting the guys. Maybe they can help...block the signal...something," he was thinking outloud now, ignoring Scully's increasingly strenuous protests. "Put me down!!! They're calling!!!" she clawed at his back and kicked. Mulder clamped down the arm over her and used the other to restrain her legs. He endured the clawing with tight-lipped silence. Scully began to scream. "Let me go!!! Let me go!!!!" she screamed and then shrieked at the top of her voice as though someone was sticking a hot poker in her eye. Lights went on all over the motel complex. *************************************************************************** ************************************************* Hope you're liking it so far!:) Let me know at shawntaw @ hotmail.com....