Author: Scifinerdgrl
Title: Via Sub Rosa
Rating: R - NC17
Category: Post-ep ("The Truth"), DRR
Summary: Where did Doggett and Reyes go, and what did they do?
Feedback: scifinerdgrl@mail.ev1.net


Their SUV sped over the desert road for what seemed like hours, but 
was actually only a few minutes. John Doggett rolled down the 
driver's window and leaned out, peering in all directions, as his 
partner, Monica Reyes, did the same from the passenger's side. 
Behind them, they could see smoke and flames in the distance. Ahead 
lay only more desert under a blistering summer sun. John pulled to 
the side of the road and shut off the engine. They listened intently 
for sounds of danger, but they heard nothing. No approaching 
helicopters, no cars or trucks, no gunshots. Nothing.

"We got away?" Reyes asked in disbelief.

"Looks like it, don't it?" Doggett confirmed.

"I don't like this," Reyes said thoughtfully. "If they were after 
Mulder and Scully, and we're in their car..."

"Maybe they weren't after them. Maybe they were just using them to 
give away the location of those caves."

"But why?" Reyes asked. "It doesn't make sense."

John grinned at her, his light blue eyes sparkling in the bright 
sunlight. "Has anything ever made sense since we met those two?"

Monica sighed and shook her head. "I still don't get it." For a few 
moments she stared ahead, her eyes unseeing under her furrowed 
brow. A sudden realization caused her to whirl in her seat to face 
Doggett. "What if they were using *us* to give away the location of 
those caves?"

His hand slipped over hers and squeezed it gently. "Let's not borrow 
trouble. We're safe for the moment. We have to assume they are too."

"How did those helicopters know where to go? Did they track ours? 
Or did they track..." Reyes stopped mid-sentence, and she and 
Doggett stared slack-jawed at each other for a cold moment.

"You take the passenger compartment. I'll take everything else," 
Doggett ordered, opening his car door. The two agents went over the 
rented SUV, looking for any unusual electronic devices. Reyes 
finished first and slid under the vehicle to help her partner.

"Anything?" she asked, shining her flashlight along the underside.

"Nope, nothing yet," he answered, flashing a smile in her 
direction. "So far so good. I'm almost finished here.... You didn't 
need to get yourself dirty," he added.

"Where you go, I go," she answered pointedly, looking deeply into his 
eyes.

He sighed and slid out from under the vehicle, then put out his hand 
to help her. She kept her hand in his after righting herself and 
squeezed it gently.

"I wish you hadn't done that," John said, some disappointment in his 
voice. Reyes immediately pulled her hand out from his, and, feeling 
a little hurt, turned to walk around the car. "Not that," he said, 
reaching for her hand and pulling her toward him. "Back there," he 
nodded toward the tower of smoke in the distance. "When I told you 
to go, you should have gone. I meant it, Monica," he said sternly.

Monica pursed her lips, measuring her response. "Where you go, I 
go," she repeated, moving closer to him.

He moved his hands to her shoulders and looked into her eyes, 
resisting the urge to kiss her. "One of us needed to survive. We 
made a promise." They shared an uneasy grin, then Doggett let go of 
her hand and said, "Our first priority is..."

"Gibson," Reyes said seriously, completing his thought.

An hour later they arrived at the monastery where they'd hidden 
Gibson earlier that morning. It was a Spanish mission, centuries 
old, with adobe walls surrounding a quiet cloister. The site exuded 
a sense of peace, calm, and serenity. Reyes' sighed loudly as soon 
as the monastery appeared over the last hill of their journey. 
Doggett heard her sigh and looked in here direction, smiling. Almost 
everything she did made him smile lately. He knew it was silly but 
he couldn't help it.

As they approached the monastery they could see flashes of white 
against the black of the tiny windows. The massive wood doors swung 
open before they could raise the doorknocker, and a flutter of white 
ushered them inside. John and Monica followed the flowing white 
robes on faith until their eyes adjusted to the indoor light. They 
arrived in a sparsely furnished dining room, diffused light filtering 
in from the tiny windows. Gibson sat at a table, a chess board in 
front of him, an elderly nun opposite. She moved her white Queen to 
his end of the chess board and pronounced "check," triumphantly. 
Gibson looked up in surprise, then saw John and Monica in the doorway.

"You came back for me?" he asked.

"Of course, Gibson. We promised we would," Doggett answered matter-
of-factly.

Gibson looked from Doggett to Reyes then said, "And you... if 
something had happened to him... you would have come back here 
anyway." It was more of a statement than a question. Reyes nodded 
grimly. Gibson looked at Doggett again, focusing intently on the ex-
cop's simple but honest thoughts.

After an awkward silence, the elderly nun turned her pasty face 
toward Doggett and Reyes. "He can stay here as long as he wants," 
she said with calm efficiency.

"So can you," interjected the younger nun who had been their escort.

"We're safe here," Gibson assured them.

They looked at him with equal surprise. They had forgotten about his 
paranormal ability to sense not just thoughts of people around him, 
but the presence of dangerous aliens. When Doggett's head turned in 
her direction Reyes instinctively looked to him for his thoughts.

"We need to think about what to do next," he reasoned.

Reyes studied his eyes for a moment then sighed and nodded. "We need 
time. But I don't know.... What if we put them in danger? We 
can't do that."

They both turned their eyes to their hosts, who were standing on 
either side of Gibson now, looking boldly back at them. "We're not 
afraid," said the younger nun.

"The Lord is with us," the older one added. "He is with you, too." 
Her eyes were were fixed on Reyes' eyes, and Reyes met her stare with 
equanimity.

Doggett looked back and forth between the two women and felt that 
sense, that hair-on-the-back-of-the-neck sense, that X-Files sense, 
he wished he could deny. "Monica?" John touched her elbow gently.

She glanced at him then at Gibson, who nodded. "Okay," she said to 
the older nun. "We'll stay."