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