#also samantha's “YES SOLDIER” cracks me up

[emahriel]

bon appétit friends umikochann's artwork

[lightofraye]

Wales Comic Con (Part Two)

This may be the second and last, unless something else occurs to me and I go "Oh damn I forgot about this." As it is, I'm impressed at my ability to torture myself and endure listening to Danneel's awful, awful voice. Can someone please tell her to get vocal lessons?

(Part One is here.)

First, a shout out to my daughter for her input and helping me know where to look for anything of note! So... her thoughts are in green, mine are in red.

First 29 minutes, Danneel demeans Jensen 7 times. Interrupts him 3. Jensen is praised only for his looks 2 times.

- 1:40 Mark’s greeting to the audience is hilarious.

- 2:58 The whole time Danneel is talking, Jensen is barely looking at her.

- 3:44 Jensen realizes just how HIGH the auditorium is and hears someone shout something like “Love you Jensen!” And he goes “I love you too.” He also takes the time to be appreciative that Kurt got invited to the convention.

- 6:20 Jensen is asked about which deaths was the hardest, and he definitely quipped that Dean’s hit him the hardest. Then it was cleared up: Which of Dean’s deaths hit him the hardest? He jokes “Death by taco.” (Mystery Spot!) As Jensen is explaining this to Kurt, Danneel… does not look happy. She’s just stone-faced. Oh she smiles here and there, but she’s not liking the spotlight off her. And I cracked up when Samantha starts pretending to throw a fit because, hi, Mary’s death?! Jensen laughs and points out “Let’s go with the one that jumpstarted the whole show!”

- 8:40 Ah. The lives’ question! Which life would the cast want—Sam’s or Dean’s? Danneel picks Sam. Jensen is surprised! Mark jokes “This is going to be a fun weekend!” Jensen: “Do tell.” Danneel explains that Sam is the nicest guy! Jensen: “I mean she’s not wrong.” A fan tries to cover Danneel’s ass by saying it’s because she would get to hang out with Jensen/Dean all the time. Danneel tried to pretend to agree by saying “Didn’t I say that?” No, no you didn’t.

- 9:53 Kurt’s answer. He started… uh, okay. He started by saying he’s hated Jensen in the past. Goes on about Jensen’s hair, about how it’s the best hair he’s ever seen in his life. Oh dear. Jensen’s… definitely uncomfortable. Then says something about Jensen’s jaw. The audience is howling. Kurt tells them to calm down. Danneel’s smug now. I can’t quite catch what Jensen’s saying, but it sounded like he owed Kurt for the compliment, thus comes out Danneel’s “I already paid him.”

- 11:40 (Danneel looks bored here. My gods.) DJ’s answer about being Ellen made me laugh. “She works at a bar!” Samantha looked like she had a laugh out of that. Then Jensen’s joke to Kurt about cushiest schedule.

- 11:57 Jensen’s joke to Kurt about cushiest schedule. Danneel interrupts about “Oh so you wanted to be Sister Jo!” Jensen’s laugh did not sound authentic here. Danneel didn’t like it, judging from how she kept shoving at his shoulder and he refused to look at her. DJ is fidgety and uncomfortable here. Hmm. Jensen’s answer: “Two people—Rowena or Crowley.” He feels they’re so interesting. Being bad but playing for the good guys. And he threw in Soldier Boy, haha! “See what I did there? I wove that back to me, somehow!” More bored Danneel looks. MY GOD WOMAN, it’s your HUSBAND.

- 14:00 As Kurt and Mark are talking about characters, Danneel pulls this “God I’m bored” look. I wanna shake her. Kurt also picked Crowley. Mark loved it!

- 15:17 Mark talks about being Crowley, then points to Jensen about a conversation of sorts they had on a plane once. He talks about how to love Supernatural is to love the Winchester brothers. There was no way around that. YES! Thank you, Mark! (Also his story about his poor stunt double had me laughing.)

- 18:00 Samantha’s answer, haha! “I would like to have been God.”

- 18:20 Ah. Danneel’s bullshit answer about auditioning for any female role. We know you lied, woman! Stop it! Oof. Jensen’s like “Uhm. Yeah.” Hiding his face, hiding his expression. He’s leaning away from her. (Ohh. Samantha intrigues me. She’s all “But it was the perfect role for you.” She’s not sincere. Nope.)

- 19:14 Ah. Danneel’s thing about working with a great actor. Jensen was trying for modesty “Okay, all right!” Then she shoots out with “Mark Pellegrino.” Jensen’s smile is forced and he isn’t looking at her. That stung. And she laughs, patting him hard on the shoulder. Well, a pat/shove and Jensen’s refusing to look at her. Jensen plays off her comment by saying “See, I did you a favor.” In regards to her not getting any role until Sister Jo. He plays along with her lie. Oh Jensen…. He made that dig about himself. And she doesn’t reassure him. Not one bit.

- 20:00 Oh! The supernatural question. Good lord, DJ went off on a spiel. I’m… intrigued. Is he hyper?

- 21:25 Jensen has this “Oh god.” Danneel is smug and amused. Uh oh. I think they’re about to go into the haunted mansion thing again. Yep. I was right. And Danneel keeps interrupting him. Good lord woman, let him talk.Jensen is more practical. (Ditto.) Apparently Danneel will believe anything and everything. That’s… not a good thing, actually. Also, DJ, stop kissing her ass.

- 23:47 Did she… yep. Danneel turned a divining rod into a sexual innuendo. Jensen just keeps avoiding looking at her. She tries to correct herself and just keeps making it worse. Again, she keeps shoving at Jensen’s shoulder. What is with her and that? Mark tries to interrupt about how it’s 15 years of conditioning regarding Jensen. He hears about something haunted and his first thought is to go to the trunk of the car to deal with it.

- 24:45 Ah. The basement story. Danneel interrupts him again—stop doing that and let him talk! And he’s plenty fun—watch him with Jared!First, I wanna know—what’s in the basement that they didn’t have room for in that gigantic house? I mean, seriously. Unless that’s where he’s been living, separate from the rest of the family. It is big enough…. Andddd…. She interrupts him again. Sure, sure, people life, but he’s exasperated by it. He manages to finish the story and yeah, it’s funny.

- 26:13 Ugh. Kurt. No. They’re not cute. Sigh.

- 31:10 HAHA! A fan had a question for Jensen and Mark playfully throws his arms in the air. I’m not 100% sure what the question was—sounded like it was about languages. Jensen quipped he was glad it was mainly Jared who had to do Latin, Sign Language, Lucifer, Soulless, “give it to the big kid”. Haha. “He’s such a nerd.” Ha! Jared or Sam, Jensen? Oh! Jared took Latin in school?! That’s cool! Jensen notes the writers must’ve found out and kept giving more of it to Jared. Jensen said it made him appreciate Jared’s skillset more. Then they segued into DJ and Jensen having to tap dance and the story is making me laugh!

- 35:35 Okay. Now I see why my daughter is critical. But I also understand. Sign language is hard. I grew up with it; I’m fluent in it. I was tested once and was measured at Advanced Intermediate, which is almost natural fluency. (It was for an interpreter job; I had to be certified at language level.) And even then I still don’t know all the signs! I’d have to ask my uncle—who is deaf—and go “What sign is for this word?” So I get it. It’s not easy.

- 38:26 Okay. Stop. I have to say this. Why is Danneel there?! She was in 5 episodes, admitted she didn’t watch the show at all (she lied about knowing Castiel’s lines, etc, for cryin’ out loud!), and so all she can do is just sit there, keep wiggling that damned foot of her, fuss with her fake-ass hair, and nod, as if she knew anything at all!

- 38:59 Okay. I’m cackling at how DJ goes “Don’t make up answers. They already know it!”

- 40:11 Right there, Danneel touches Jensen’s knee. He actually purposefully moves away. Interesting….

- 40:23 Mark: “I remember you singing ‘I’m too sexy for my shirt’. That was phenomenal.” Jensen: “I’ve washed that from my mind.” Haha! And yes, Mark is right. If you hear “Carry On”… something awesome is about to happen.

- 42:10 Last fan question. For Jensen. Mark and Kurt threw their hands in the air. I’m sorry, I laughed. It’s about what it was like switching from Dean to Soldier Boy. We know this is a fib answer. Jensen begins about how Kripke told him to not to do Dean. Jensen’s flabbergasted, because, yeah, he’s spent 15 years being Dean. And I love how he just plays Kripke going, flippantly, “Yeah. Pretty much.” on dropping Dean.

- 43:40 I had to make a separate time stamp for this. Jensen was trying to give a compliment to Danneel (why? She doesn’t deserve it) and Danneel barks into the microphone: “Water!” As though pretending to be Jensen being ‘Dean’ at home. Then she ‘cutely’ adds: “Go get your own water!” Jensen looks away, completely. Jensen: “No, that’s just me acting like an actor.” Yeah, he laughs… but that’s not a real laugh, not the way he gets with Jared or even JDM. It’s not funny at all. And I don’t buy Danneel “helped” him at all. Maybe record, as someone had to hold the damned camera, but it was Kripke who critiqued. Not Danneel. She can’t act her way out of a paper bag.

- 44:00 Kripke giving him the compliment as not seeing Dean in Soldier Boy.

- 45:00 Here Jensen actually asked Mark, Sam, and Kurt their process on being different characters. Kurt follows with an excellent compliment for Jensen about how he was always excellent, always cared, which was a part of the reason why the show lasted so long. Jensen’s deeply moved by this. I’m just in my feels here, y’all.

- 46:58 Now Mark’s compliment. “The lack of self-aggrandizement is—is empirical. It’s absolute. If you want to tell a story, which you do, which all of you do. I’ve watched all of you work. You want to tell a story, that supersedes ‘I want to look cool’. ‘I want to look cool’ is where you go back to the same. It’s when you go ‘how do I go tell the story’ and when that question just goes ‘how do I tell the story ‘that everything changes. And that’s down to the writing and down to the want and the love of the story and the love of what you want to convey. And I’ve been so lucky in my career that I’ve had so many things been given to me and or even written for me which is mind-blowing to me. Going ‘oh my god what do they want from me’ and I know Soldier Boy is like that for you because I’ve watched it. And there’s nary a spot of Dean in that. There’s no… it’s new. It’s something. It’s different. It’s a fully fledged character. And that’s what I expect from you anyway. You know what I mean? It’s what I expect from you. Because you want to tell the story. You know? That’s what I think difference is between the stuff that we like as fans—it’s made with passion, it’s made with love, it’s made with heart. It’s doesn’t always succeed. It isn’t always brilliant. But it’s made with an honesty to itself. As long as we honor that honesty to itself then we as fans, we as lovers, we can truly embrace it and go yeah, there’s something there for me. And that’s the greatest gift we get.” Jensen is truly honored by the compliment. It’s obvious. He doesn’t get compliments a lot at all… damn.

- Danneel is enjoying the attention she receives until 2:42 when Jensen is greeting the fans. She is side-eyeing him with extreme animosity as though he just sole away her spotlight.

- 5:08 Bobby’s death; Danneel interrupts when Jensen starts to answer.

- 9:29 Kurt begins to uplift and praise Jensen… but only for his looks. (???) This causes extreme discomfort for Jensen.

- 9:40 Danneel responds with a dig: “I already paid him.”

- 10:55 Danneel demeans Jensen after he asks “Do we pick characters on how interesting they are or characters who have the cushiest schedule on the planet?” and in doing so, she smacks his shoulder and laughs, “I’m kidding!”

-11:18 Just as Jensen states that he would rather play Rowena or Crowley, Danneel makes a less than pleased expression. Kurt is confused because—Jensen is “The Pretty Boy”. He can’t be “Interesting��. Mark is understanding and DJ is maintaining at least some modicum of professional intrigue.

-12: 04 Finally a dig at Danneel, a way of lightly defending himself in the form of playful banter. There is, unfortunately, a knowing look from DJ.

- 17:17 “I would have done any female role on Supernatural”. --Jensen is mentally calling her a liar while she is putting him down in front of an entire audience. Jensen is looking down in shame and astonishment at the hubris.

- 18:15 “I got to work with a great actor”—proceeds to embarrass Jensen again.

- 21:23 After Jensen discussed the possibility of there being something supernatural or beyond our understanding, Danneel proceeds to interject with her take in a more competitive tune. DJ kisses her ass. The two tell the haunted house story at 21:53.

- 23:13 Danneel demeans him.

- 24:41 “Must have been the air conditioning.” Demeans him.

- 33:04 Jensen critical: Lacks the capability to empathized or acknowledge that ASL may be vital as an actor for long term career path. (Note from Raye: This is my daughter's thoughts. Not mine. Respect it.)

- 42:30 Danneel would have to tell me (Jensen) to stop playing Dean at home… Jensen proceeds to rock back and forth apprehensively as Danneel makes fun of him in what again is a demeaning behavior in the form of witty banter.

-45: 35 Jensen’s acting is finally encouraged and praised by Kurt, and Mark, as opposed to his looks.

--

I... honestly, y'all? I don't see the chemistry. The banter? Nope. That's not bantering. Maybe a touch of it toward the end when she actually isn't putting him down. And I know I'm not the only one who saw it.

Not one compliment. Not from his "wife". It had to come from Mark, who praised him beautifully, at the end.

This was Comic Con Wales, 2024.

[af105-spngay-blog]

The focus of this is on Dean, both in his gender presentation and relationships

First up, his overly-masculinized gender is anything but genuine. We know what kind of man John was and the kind of pressure Dean was under as a kid to be the perfect soldier, "Daddy's blunt instrument", and in hunter world that means aggressively stereotyped manly-man: flannel, alcoholism, women, burgers, physical violence, the Impala, every piece of Classic American Brothers that Kripke wanted. But because Jensen is Jensen, it didn't work. that masculinity is a show and a mask to protect himself. like how he always says no chick flick moments, but is a housewife at heart. some of the happiest he's ever been is in the bunker because he can cook for Sam and has a memory foam mattress.

Like I'm pretty sure my grandma has told me to eat with the exact same face, tone, and inflection that dean uses there

or when sam gets sick from the trials and dean mother hens him

like, yes he's joking, but you know he would do anything if it meant Sam would eat something. the fact that he offered at all is telling of how worried he is - a less mature dean probably would've just dropped off the food and left, or gotten angry when sam continued to refuse to eat.

yet through all of this he is constantly cracking jokes or teasing sam about being feminine, and how masculine he is, but to a point that it's a cover more than a reality. no man comfortable in his masculinity will spend all his time denying his emotions just to keep up a cover. just look at the difference between Dean, John, and Bobby. Dean learned his repressive traits from John, constantly looping "no chick-flick moments", calling sam "Samantha" as an insult, etc etc. Meanwhile Bobby openly talks about the importance of emotional connection and communication, and ways of showing love, especially for children. Admittedly his favourite term of endearment is 'idjit", but he's also never hesitated to hug the boys even when not on the brink of death. and there's this iconic moment showing a remarkably modern stance on parenting, especially when contrasted with John "he wouldn't be proud of me. he'd tear me a new one" Winchester.

yet nobody questions Bobby's masculinity because he's open and he owns it

now none of this is to say that Dean's gender is inherently queer - I'll accept him being a cis man and let everyone headcanon what they want, but its to say that queerness in general affects someone's relationship with and presentation of gender in relation to other aspects of their life. (its also an extremely good thing that this project is on tumblr because if I had to explain the concept of a gender that is cis but in a distinctly queer way in academic language I would simply pass away. fourth wall break over. we will now return to our regularly scheduled programming).

T;DR dean is a softie and a Mom^TM and no cishet guy is as defensive about it as he is

Dean Winchester is inherently queer and the only reason they don't come out and say it is because the writers are cowards who care more about money than the fans they call their family and as much as destiel is canon in my heart its nowhere near the only evidence for Dean being not straight. in this essay I will

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 38

Catch up on AO3

Happy Birthday Bonus Day. Ok, I'm also babysitting my niece until Monday and won't be online.

~*~Sebastian~*~

The phone call from my manager, Emily, was about the shoot for the watch ad. At the end, she tacked on there had been a random tweet saying, "I think I just saw The Winter Soldier kidnap and carry off a woman." I guess someone did see. Naturally, it turned into a thing with fans asking for pictures "or it didn't" happen and location. Poor guy was just posting something random to his friends and got overrun. His next tweet was "Fuck, y'all are crazy. I'm being stupid, drunk by the water, and you lose your damn minds." He has no idea. His comment about water has everyone thinking I'm at the beach. I wish. Although, I am at a sand volleyball tournament.

I went back outside and Emma wasn't at the table. I could see her out on the court. I got closer and was treated with tiny orange shorts. Those were exactly what flashed into my head when she said she played volleyball. Except I pictured the shorts black. I wasn't going to bitch about the orange. I was already making plans around peeling them off. The best I could do right now was a kiss through some black netting.

After meeting the team, I went back to the table and introduced myself. Scott stared for a bit, but after a few minutes of conversation with Samantha he joined in. This was the way it usually happened. There was a period of weird silence before my behavior convinced them I'm no different from anyone else. Once I can get them from seeing a twenty-foot version of me on a movie screen to seeing the guy in front of them things are pretty normal.

As much as I was enjoying the conversation when the game started I went up to the railing. Emma’s team started on the side that wasn't fronted by the deck. I wanted to see. I'd done my research, so I knew after the first set they'd switch sides. I'd sit down then. Maybe. I was rewarded with a smile when they took their places and she saw me.

Things didn't start well. The other teamed scored three quick points. We'd close in, then they'd pull ahead again. I learned from Samantha that Emma was the setter. She was in charge of the offensive and Pete directed defense. Her obsessive planning would probably come in handy here. When we were behind ten to twelve Pete called a time out. They ran over to the bench under where I was standing. Emma told them what she saw the other team doing and gave each of them direction. Pete added in a little, but it was mostly her. She was confident, direct, and at the end brought them together for a quick cheer and told them, "We got this."  All through this, she paid zero attention to me. She was laser-focused like I wasn't even there.

Which made me hard.

From then on there was no more being behind. It was like the first part of the match was them figuring the other side out and now they were playing for real. Emma's yelling out names. Pete's telling people to move. And then there's the physicality of it. She was quick. She would dive to keep the ball from hitting the ground, barely dump it over the net, and set the ball up for one of the guys. The last one looked like she was barely touching the ball, but I knew the strength in those fingers. I'm sure the others were doing all sorts of shit too, but I was only paying attention to her. What she wasn't very good at was serving. She didn't suck. It just wasn't her strong suit.

I kept quiet throughout the set until the final score. I did a fist pump and yelled, "Yes!"

Final score twenty-five to twenty.

They headed to the bench, all smiling but not too big, and started gathering their stuff. Emma gathered her clothes over her arm before looking at me. It wasn't over yet so I gave her a thumbs up and mouthed, "Good job."

Emma stepped up on the bench like she had before the game and reached her fingers through the netting. Reaching for me. I linked my fingers with hers and met her for another kiss in a little square. She smiled and whispered, "For luck."

Nick came close and looked up," You have to do that before every set now. Superstition rules sports."

I looked around Emma to see him, "Not a hardship."

I went back to the table for the second set. Samantha, who told me to call her Sam, provided a steady commentary and answered any questions I had. I should have started back here. I had a much better understanding of roles, strategy, and gameplay by the time they won the second set and therefore the game.

Scott pointed between me and Sam, "One of you bar bitches needs to go get beer."

I jumped off the chair, I'll get it."

I looked at Sam, "What do I get?

"Bucket of Corona and one of Modelo."

"Thank you. Be right back."

The team was already at the table when I got there.

Pete looked at me as I put the buckets down. "You're going to need to be faster if you want to keep your bar bitch job."

It was good that they were giving me shit. Normal. I grabbed two of the Modelos. "I set up a tab. It'll be quicker next time."

He looked aghast, "You left your credit card?"

"I think they trust me." I opened the bottles and walked to where Emma sat, kissing her before handing off the beer. "That was great. You were great. " I quickly looked at the others, "I'm sure you all were too, but I was only paying attention to her. I'II watch everyone next game."

Jeff smiled around his beer bottle, "No, you won't."

"I'll make an effort." No one was believing me. I couldn't blame them. I ran my hand over Emma’s shoulders, "How long till the next game?"

"The team we’ll play, their game isn’t over yet." She pointed to court two. "We'll get twenty or so minutes once they're done. Wanna go watch the end?"

"Sure."

Emma took my hand and we went to the railing. "Which team do you want to win?"

She looked at both teams. "I don't know them. They're from a different league." She watched both for a minute, "Shit."

I turned toward her, leaning my arm on the counters, "What's up?"

"I went out with one of the guys on the green team." She'd moved to put her back to them.

"Hmm." I raised an eyebrow while I took a drink. Kinda thankful it's one of hers and not one of mine. "How long?"

"Just a couple of times. I didn't sleep with him." She shuddered, "He said some mildly creepy things and I ditched."

I was surprised by how relieved I felt when she said they hadn’t slept together. "Thank you for telling me."

"I wouldn't let you walk into a situation where you're the only one who doesn’t know." She ran a hand over my forearm.

Aw, she was worried. Cute. I took her hand off my arm and kissed it, "You know I make out and pretend to have sex in movies, right?"

She cracked a smile, "I hear you kiss boys too."

I can guess where she heard that from. "I have. Only for work though."

Her laughter made me smile, "I don't care if it was not for work."

I closed my eyes and shook my head, "This conversation." I opened my eyes, "I don't care if you dated some guy out there. Unless it's the blonde with long hair." Emma curled in her lips. "Oh come on!"

She shrugged and went for a change of subject. "I also heard you were Pete and Scott's Hall Pass."

"I knew that."

Her look was a cross between surprised and horrified. "I can't believe Scott told you."

"I don't think he meant to."

There was a commotion on the court. The blondes team won.

Time to go! "Ready to go back to the table?"

"Yes, please."

I put my arm around her shoulder as we walked. "Can we talk about your ass in those shorts?"

"Do you like? I bought them with you in mind."

"I do like them." We were back at the table with everyone else. I leaned closer, "I'd like to peel them off you. With my teeth."

Seed one and five were playing on court one. We'd be on court two against the blonde’s team, a two seed. I was nervous. Emma was bouncing like she had at home. I took both her hands, holding them in front of me, "Jump around. I got you."

She jumped up and down a few times, "What's this supposed to do?"

I looked sheepish, "No idea. Distraction. "

She laughed, "Worth a try. Thanks for being supportive of my crazy."

I asked again, “Anything I can get for you?"

Emma nodded emphatically, "Yes. At the switch between sets, I've got thirty seconds. Could you bring me a diet coke and a Reese Cup? Frozen.”

I repeated her order and nodded once. She must feel like she'll need a mid-game boost.

Sam's bar bitch duty was to fill up the water bottles. Emma made a bathroom run and I folded her closes and put them in the bottom of the bag. I dug out her cooling scarf. It was one o’clock in June right out in the sun. I dunked her scarf in the ice water for the beer, rung it out, and hung it over my shoulder. I had the sunscreen out when she got back.

When she saw what I held she smiled, "Thanks, I forgot. Will you get my back?"

"Discount massage all for you."

Everything is not foreplay. Repeat. Everything is not foreplay.

Emma took off her tank top for me to access everywhere. I was very thorough.  I didn’t want her to burn. A bad sunburn can be brutal. After I finished with her, she insisted on covering me. I didn’t have the same degree of exposed skin, but she tried. Sun protection aside, it was more about the touching.

Everything is foreplay.

They were called to the courts and Emma came for her good luck kiss. There was no netting so there was a bit of tongue involved. That would see me through the next set or so.

This game had me sitting on the edge of my seat and pacing closer to the railing. Sam stayed with me with Scott seemed barely interested. Points went on forever and they traded off the lead every serve. They did the same thing with taking a time out when they reached ten points, but the results weren’t quite as dramatic. They pulled ahead a few points and were keeping the lead. When they reached twenty points, I walked backward to the bar to get Emma’s Diet Coke and a frozen Reese Cup. I jogged back to the railing just in time to see my girl reject a spike from the blonde, Becky set the ball, and Nick send it back to win the set.

I was back by Sam, “Fuck, that was dramatic.” She looked at me like she knew something I didn’t. I laughed, “I know they went out.”

Her face read relieved, “Oh good, I suck at secrets.”

Emma came off the court and directed me down to the end where there was an opening in the netting. I had the Reese Cup open and the paper peeled off before I got to her. She shoved the whole thing in her mouth and mumbled a thank you.

“That was a great play.” She nodded and took a very long drink of Diet Coke.

Emma pressed her lips to mine. “Give me the Reese and you keep the Diet Coke.”

“Got it.” I dumped the candy out and handed it to her.

Second set they went up by five early, skipped the time out, and won twenty-five to eighteen. Fuck, yeah! 

I went after beer and stopped by the board. This had them in the semi-finals with the one seed. They were already finished so the countdown was on. Emma came up behind me, laying her hand on my back, “We’re moving tables.”

“Court one, baby!” I kissed her cheek, “Semi-finals. I checked the board. This is cool. I’m taking pictures this game.”

It was more crowded on this side of the deck and I was thankful for her planning now. Nick and Jeff were moving the table up closer to the railing and it looked like Pete and Scott had stolen some more chairs. We were set up along the railing on either side of the net. Looked like a little horseshoe blockade. There were some extra people there too. Emma had said more people would show up for later games closer to dinner.  She introduced me to the new people, Nick taking care of the few she didn’t know. Emma passed on the beer, preferring to hydrate. Smart. I went for beer. I figured them playing the one seed was either going to be incredibly nerve-wracking or quickly depressing. I wasn’t sure which I dreading more. Either way, beer was the answer. Until shots were.

They called the teams to the court and Emma took a deep breath and jumped around a little. I was glad to see that. I was concerned because she hadn’t been as bouncy. “Ready to go, Tigger?”

She snorted a laugh, “If we win I’m going to need food. If we lose . . . I’m still gonna need food.”

All five of her teammates chimed in, “Me too.”

“You guys got this. You’ve been kicking ass. Just do what you do.” My attempt at a pep talk was appreciated by thanks and head nods.

Nick looked over and pointed, “Don’t forget the good luck kiss, man. Don’t break the streak.”

“I like him.” I gave her a quick kiss and sent her on her way.

The time between this game turned into more than thirty. The loser’s bracket was running behind and they wanted to even things out a little. If we won this team would go into the loser’s bracket and play someone so there would be more than an hour between the end of this and the next game.  The team stayed on the court and I listened to friends around me catching up.

Jacob, one of the newcomers, spoke up, “So Sebastian, on set, which of the Marvel guys was the biggest asshole?”

I had ready-made answers for this, but Sam put her hand on my arm and addressed him, “Yeah, we don’t do that. This isn’t a comic con.” She motioned to me with her hand, “This is our friend Seb, here for a volleyball game. If you have questions buy a ticket.”

Jacob held up his hands, “Fair enough.”

I shrugged, but inside I was cringing a little. Sometimes answering questions or taking pictures is the safer bet. I can control things a little better and ask people not to post anything for a little while. If you piss people off they do what they want without your permission.

I pointed my thumb at her, “Interviewing for my bodyguard.” Hopefully, that would break any tension.

Jacob laughed, “She doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit.”

The game started and I turned my back on everyone. Sam was beside me. “Renner.”

She looked at me confused, “What?”

“Renner’s the biggest asshole.”

We lost the first set. Badly. When Emma came over to switch sides she didn’t say a word. She popped up on the bench, gave me a kiss, and was off.  They started down by three in the second set. I leaned my elbows on the counter and looked back at Sam, “How’s she handle losing?”

Sam shook her head, “Haven’t lost yet. You’re a nervous little thing.”

“It’s new.”

“Sweet.” She looked out at the game then back to me. “She’s very competitive. Losing pisses her off, but she’s over it quick. Tequila helps.” She nodded toward the court, “But we haven’t lost yet.”

And we didn’t. One set all.

I wanted to vomit. I was tensing up with every play. Every time they scored, I was doing something. Yelling, “yes”. Making faces. Fist pumps. Banging on the counter. Anything to release the tension. There wasn’t anything dramatic, just solid play. Slowly we increased the lead. A point here, a point there. And they didn’t match it, didn’t catch up.

Twenty-five to nineteen. Sam and I both yelled, “Fuck, yeah!” at the same time.

[sunflowerseedsandscience]

By the Dim and Flaring Lamps: Part Five, Chapter One

Part One: One | Two | Three | Four Part Two: One | Two | Three | Four | Five Part Three: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six Part Four: One | Two | Three | Four | Five

FERBRUARY 1864 NEAR WASHINGTON, D.C.

Mulder keeps a close eye on Scully for the entire ride back to the Army of the Potomac's winter quarters. She doesn't seem uncomfortable, and by the time they had decided it was time to leave Culpeper she had been more than capable of spending a full day on her feet without significant pain... but Mulder also knows that she's not likely to be terribly forthcoming if the ride is tiring her.

"I'm fine, Mulder," she sighs at him when she catches him watching her worriedly yet again. "I've been well enough to return to camp for over a week now. You're behaving as though I'm still on Death's door."

"Only because I still can't forget the way you looked when you were actually at Death's door, not so long ago," he says. "So you'll forgive me if I'm a bit more attentive to your health than usual for a little while."

"Oh, will I?" she grumbles, pulling her overcoat tighter around her narrow shoulders. She's still wearing clothing taken from Mulder's own wardrobe, and while Samantha had been able to tailor most of it to fit her, there had not been time to alter the borrowed winter coat, and it's forever slipping off. One of their first stops, when they return to camp, will have to be to the quartermaster, so that Scully can be outfitted with a completely new uniform.

They'll also need to stop and speak to Colonel Skinner, Mulder supposes. Scully still has one extremely important question for their commander, and she's likely not going to want to wait any longer than necessary to get an answer.

But then... at the end of the day... there will be their tent, their shared cot, and the first opportunity that Mulder has had to hold Scully close since his family's sudden arrival at the plantation in December. He had tried, several times, to sneak into her bedroom late at night, after everyone else had been asleep, but she had sent him back to his own room each and every time, too afraid of being discovered to permit him to stay with her.

Tonight, though, there won't be any reason for them not to sleep nestled close together, fitting their bodies one against the other, conserving body heat under their meager blankets. Just the thought is enough for Mulder to feel warmer already.

First, however, he has to get them both back to camp, and Scully, in spite of her best efforts to hide it, is beginning to look weary. It's the first time she's been on horseback since being shot, excepting the ride to the surgeon's immediately after being wounded, which she had endured in semi-conscious agony. Mulder says nothing, but he can't help urging his own horse a little faster, knowing that Scully will keep up. The last thing he wants is to not get there before nightfall, to be forced to sleep out in the open tonight.

The winter sun is dipping low in the sky by the time they make their way past the picket lines and guards and into the army's winter camp. Unlike the field encampments Mulder and Scully have grown used to, this place bears the unmistakable marks of being a more long-term establishment. The grass between the tents has been worn down to dirt, and temporary wooden structures have been erected for cooking, eating, and for seeking medical attention. Proper latrines have been dug- thankfully, a good distance from the rest of the camp. The army engineers have, blessedly, learned their lesson from past bouts of typhus and dysentery.

It's not difficult to locate the Third Corps, and, by extension, Colonel Skinner. He's being housed, not in a tent, but in a small wooden hut, in deference to his rank. The little building has clearly been hastily constructed, but nevertheless, it's still far warmer than a canvas tent could ever hope to be.

Skinner's aide de camp announces them, and in short order, they're waved inside to find their commander looking no worse for wear- and unmistakably glad to see them both.

"I take it you've recovered, Lieutenant Scully?" he asks, waving off their salutes. Scully nods.

"Yes, Sir," she says. "I'm ready to return to active duty." Skinner nods.

"There won't be much to the ‘active’ part of it for a little while yet," he says. "But still, that's good to hear. Be sure that you don't overexert yourself in the daily drills, though. I don't want you out of commission again." He glances at Mulder. "Not least because your colonel is useless when you're not around." Mulder ducks his head sheepishly, but doesn't bother to contradict Skinner; it is, after all, the truth.

"Sir," says Scully, "I did have one question for you, if it's not too imprudent of me to ask. I was wondering if you could tell me-"

"You want to know how I figured out your little secret," interrupts Skinner. Scully nods.

"Yes, Sir," she says. "I need to know- if you don't mind telling me- because if I'm doing something, without realizing it, to give myself away, then I need to stop whatever it is immediately." Skinner nods shortly. He walks past Scully, opening the door of his hut and addressing his aide de camp.

"Thomas, Son, I need you to run to the quartermaster," he says. "Lieutenant Scully is going to require a complete uniform, including an overcoat. Bring back the smallest size they have available." Lieutenant Thomas nods, salutes, and disappears between the surrounding tents. Skinner closes the door and turns back to Mulder and Scully. "Don't want to risk anyone overhearing," he explains. "And I'm sure you actually do need a new uniform. Am I right?

"Yes, Sir," agrees Scully. "Thank you." Skinner sinks down to sit on his cot and looks up at Mulder and Scully thoughtfully.

"This past summer," he says, "Days before Gettysburg, not long before I handed off command of the Eighty-Third Pennsylvania to you, Mulder, a man- a civilian- arrived at my headquarters. He was looking for a soldier by the name of Scully, and he had heard that there was a Scully somewhere in the Third Brigade, and possibly in my regiment." Next to Mulder, Scully goes stiff.

"Did he give you his name, Sir?" she asks.

"Waterston," says Skinner. "Dr. Daniel Waterston. A civilian, at the moment, but he'd treated soldiers for the Army of the Tennessee in the past. He explained to me that if the Scully in my brigade was, indeed, the one he was looking for, then I would be in for a bit of a surprise if I were to inspect him a bit more closely." Scully closes her eyes and draws a deep breath, then glances over at Mulder.

"So as of last summer, he hadn't given up yet," she says. "That surprises me, actually. I thought that once he knew what I'd done, he would write me off as a lost cause." She turns back to Skinner. "Dr. Waterston was the man my parents wanted me to marry," she explains. "Getting away from him was a large part of the reason why I... why I made the choices that I made."

"I surmised as much from speaking with him," says Skinner. "He told me that the man he was looking for wasn't actually a man at all, and that the family of the young woman had asked him to bring her home before she could come to any further harm." He raises his eyebrows at Scully. "I told him that the only Scully in my brigade was nearly six feet tall with a beard thick enough to house a family of sparrows for the winter." Mulder barks out a surprised laugh, and Skinner finally cracks a smile. "I didn't like the look of the man. I didn't trust his intentions and I wanted him gone as quickly as possible. I never saw him again after that... but the next time I saw you, Lieutenant Scully, I took a closer look, and I knew." Scully relaxes somewhat.

"So it's not because I've made myself obvious?" she asks, and Skinner shakes his head.

"Most of the other men have probably drawn the same conclusions that I had come to, before Dr. Waterston's visit," he says. "Until then, I had assumed that you were very young, likely a year or two younger than eighteen- but still, a boy. And no one was about to blow the whistle on you, myself included; you were far too competent a soldier for that. The regiment couldn't stand to lose you."

"That was what I had thought, as well," admits Mulder, grinning, thinking back to the many mental conversations he'd had with himself, trying to decide if he was an irresponsible captain for not turning in a soldier who was clearly not old enough to be fighting. Skinner nods.

"Like I've said, most of the men have probably assumed the same," he says. "So keep on doing what you've been doing, Scully, and you shouldn't have a problem. You certainly won't have one from me." Scully smiles gratefully.

"Thank you, Sir," she says. "Your confidence in me means a great deal."

"It's been well-earned," Skinner tells her, and her face flushes slightly.

There's a sharp rap on the door, and Skinner stands and opens it to reveal Lieutenant Thomas, holding a stack of folded clothing, a blue cap resting on top.

"Here you are, Sir," he says, passing the clothing to Skinner, who immediately hands it to Scully.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Thomas," she says. "And thank you, Colonel Skinner. We should get out of your hair now." Skinner nods and returns their salute, and moments later, Mulder and Scully are back out in the cold, winding their way through the tents to find their own regiment.

The return of both their colonel and of his aide draws a cheer from the men sitting around the campfires, trying to keep warm, and it's not long before Mulder and Scully are surrounded. Everyone wants to shake Scully's hand and pound her on the back, and Mulder has difficulty restraining himself from standing between her and the men eager to celebrate her return.

"All right, all right, everyone, that's enough," he finally calls out. "We've been riding all day and we're exhausted. We need to get our supper and get some rest." The men reluctantly disperse, and Mulder and Scully are free to make their way to their tent. Once inside, Scully sinks down onto the cot with a groan, closing her eyes.

"I know we should eat," she sighs, "but I could absolutely fall asleep right this second." Mulder chuckles.

"Since when can you not just fall asleep at any second?" he asks, and Scully swats a lazy hand in his direction, missing him by over a foot. "You should at least get your new uniform on," he urges. "It's wool; it will be much warmer than what you're wearing."

"Admit it, you just want me to take my clothes off," Scully says, opening one eye a slit to peer up at him.

"I've got no trouble admitting that that's part of it," he says, "but it's also true that you'll be warmer, isn't it?" Scully heaves a sigh and stands. Mulder immediately flops down onto the cot, taking her place, and watches attentively as she strips off her overcoat, suit jacket, and trousers. She glances at him shyly as she starts unbuttoning her cotton underclothes, preparing to exchange them for wool, and he smiles encouragingly at her.

"You're enjoying this far too much," she says accusingly, and his smile widens to a teasing grin.

"Oh, I don't think that would ever be possible," he tells her. She shakes her head at him, blushing deep crimson, which only inflates Mulder's arousal further. His eyes travel over every inch of ivory skin as she reveals it, and it takes all of his self-control to keep his hands lying by his sides on the cot, to keep from reaching for her. Later, he tells himself firmly. You will be here with her every night. Right now, she needs a hot supper more than she needs your hands all over her.

She doesn't, sadly, unbind her breasts, but Mulder is treated to the sublime sight of the rest of her body, filled out somewhat after two months resting and of eating proper food. He sighs regrettably as she covers herself, bit by bit, with the new, clean uniform, which is, thankfully, only slightly big on her. She places the blue cap atop her head, over the freshly-shorn red locks that Mulder had had James trim right before they had left the plantation.

When she turns back to him, she's every inch the smart, capable soldier he had met nearly a year ago, and his heart is suddenly full of so much love and affection that he can't speak. He sits up and reaches out to her, taking her hand and pulling her over to stand between his knees. She smiles softly down at him, cupping his face in her hands as he holds her lightly by the hips, and bending down, she kisses his forehead.

"I'm hungry, Mulder," she tells him. "Let's go find something to eat."

From the regimental cooks, they receive strong coffee, bacon, some dubious-looking vegetables, and, of course, hardtack. As they take their seats around a campfire, Scully holds up her square of grey and unappetizing bread and heaves a sigh.

"Well, here we are again," she says, dunking the hardtack into her cup of coffee. "Back to a luxurious life of comfortable leisure and gourmet cooking." Mulder laughs.

"There are drawbacks, to be sure," he agrees. "But there are one or two positive aspects to being back at camp, if you know where to look for them." She raises her eyebrows at him, the piece of softened bread pausing halfway to her mouth.

"Oh?" she asks. "And what might those be?"

"Nothing I can mention out here," he says lightly, and Scully flushes, immediately busying herself with eating her supper.

As they're finishing up, Private Jorgensen ambles up, cradling his own coffee close to his chest.

"Heard you was back," he says to Scully. "Fit and healthy again, are you?" Scully nods.

"Fit and healthy and ready to get back to it," she affirms. Jorgensen sinks down to sit next to her, patting her on the back with his free hand.

"Good man," he says. "That one over there," he jerks his chin at Mulder, "he didn't know his ass from his elbow with you gone." Scully laughs.

"So I've heard," she says.

"I wasn't that terrible," Mulder protests. "Distracted, maybe, but I didn't completely lose my head."

"No, just the part of it that makes all the good decisions," says Jorgensen, but there's no malice in his voice. "We stopped playing poker with him after a few days because we felt guilty, takin' all his money every night."

"Complete exaggeration," mutters Mulder over Scully's laughter, ducking his head and concentrating on his bacon. "I chose to stop playing because I had other things to do that were more important."

"Whatever you say, Colonel," chuckles Jorgensen. "One way or another, Scully, it's good to have you back with us."

With their pitiful excuse for a meal finished, Mulder and Scully are finally free to retire to their tent, the day's long ride serving as a useful excuse for their heading to bed so much earlier than the rest of the regiment. In truth, Mulder is somewhat overwhelmed, suddenly being surrounded by so many people after months of only Scully's and Samantha's company, and he's looking forward to a night's respite from all of the chatter.

Mulder has spent the entire day reminding himself that Scully is likely to be exhausted, and quite possibly sore, after the day's ride, and he had promised himself that when the time came for sleep, he would be a gentleman. He had sworn that he would keep his hands to himself, that he would hold her close and keep her warm, certainly, but things would stop there.

That resolution is in immediate danger the moment they're lying side-by-side on their cot, covered with both of their blankets (plus the quilt that Mulder had packed from home), their bodies pressed together. It starts with a gentle goodnight kiss, but the merest touch of her lips to his ignites something in him, and in spite of his best intentions, he feels himself respond immediately.

Scully feels it, as well, and as the kiss ends, she glances down between him at where he's pressing against her, then looks back up, meeting his eyes as she bites her lower lip enticingly.

"Perhaps we're not quite ready to sleep after all?" she suggests playfully, teasing the back of his scalp with her fingertips.

"You should sleep," he protests, but his heart's not in it. "It's been a long day, a long... riiiiiiiide... ohhhh...." His voice trails of into a gasp as her hand wanders down between them, cupping him through his undergarments. She kisses him again, and just like that, the last of his resolve is gone.

Undressing her, he discovers, is a far more sensual experience than simply watching her pull off a nightshirt, even if the clothing he's removing is decidedly male. His mind dances ahead to days to come, when he'll be peeling dresses, corsets, and chemises off of her instead, when her hair will have grown long, a glorious tumult of red silk to run between his fingers.

As she is, she's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, especially now, cheeks flushed with excitement, intent in her task of getting him naked, as well. When the last of their clothing has been discarded, he runs his hands worshipfully over her, his fingers pausing as they reach her breasts. He kisses them, burying his face in them, feeling the oddly rough skin lined with indentations left there by her bindings. That something so amazing and lovely should spend so much time completely concealed seems like a crime to him, and he resolves that, in the future, he will encourage her to flaunt her figure as much as she likes, modesty be damned. If she doesn't want to, she doesn't have to, but her body is a work of art, a fact that's only made more obvious to him the more time she has to spend hiding it away.

"You're spending an awful lot of time on those," she observes breathlessly, smiling down at him as he suckles first at one nipple, then at the other.

"I'm only giving them all of the worship that's due to something so exquisite," he tells her, and she laughs. She pulls at his shoulders until they're lying face-to-face and kisses him, sliding a leg up and over his hip.

Like the first time, it doesn't last long, and he's very aware, when he’s finished, that he's left her hanging. He tries to puzzle out, as he's gently wiping off her stomach with his handkerchief, how he might be able to service her with his mouth, the way that he had before, but the logistics of managing that on this tiny cot are daunting, and he's not about to suggest they lie on the cold, damp ground. Scully, blessedly, seems to understand his dilemma perfectly.

"Here, like this," she says, taking his hand and pulling it down between her legs. She guides his fingers to her clitoris, and shows him how to touch her, moving his first two fingers in a delicate circular motion around her. Once he's got it, once he's applying just the right amount of pressure and moving at a speed she likes, she leaves him to it, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him fiercely.

He takes note of anything that quickens her breathing, anything that makes her gasp or squirm, and repeats it, keeping his eyes open while they kiss, watching her get closer. "Harder," she whispers in his ear, a minute later, and he obliges, and soon, she's writhing on the cot next to him, her fingers gripping his shoulders tightly, pressing her lips tightly to his so that her cries of ecstasy are lost down his throat.

They lie awake in each other's arms long enough for their bodies to cool down, long enough for the chill of the February night to make itself known once more. Sighing regretfully, they each wriggle back into their woolen undergarments, shuddering at the coolness the cloth holds after being discarded on the ground.

Fully covered once more, they curl against one another on the cot, their blankets pulled over them, insulating them against the cold of the outside world. Scully rolls onto her side, facing away from Mulder, who frames her body with his, her smaller curves complementing his larger angles perfectly.

"Promise me," he murmurs in her ear, as he finally begins to feel sleepy, "that even after we're married, even after we're not being forced up against each other sheerly because of lack of space, even if our marriage bed is the size of the state of Maryland, you and I will still sleep like this." She snuggles closer to him.

"I think that's probably an arrangement that I can live with."

[ssdgworks]

[Old, rough] Netshift 2014/chapters 0 to 2 and End

  NaNoWriMo Version. ~MythicMatt

  Prologue - The Netshift - [859 Words]

  Samuel sat at his desk, intently staring at the screen. There wasn't that much else for him to do really. He was testing the game he'd been developing on his own, checking for anything that could be called 'bugs'. He had a notepad and pen just to his left, listing some bugs he'd found already. When he finished the level for the Thirteenth time, he noticed a little error. Rather than play the cut scene to the next level, it played a very different cut scene that, to his knowledge, hadn't been possible. The games' protagonist was talking directly to him. "Uh, hey. You out there!" the rainbow haired Half-Dragon said, her voice just as clear as the pre-recorded dialogue she'd said numerous times in the level. Sam looked around, sure that this was an elaborate prank his voice actor was playing. "No, look at your damn monitor." the Half-Dragon said again, this time tapping at the screen with her claw. "Hi..." Samuel said, awkwardly holding up his hand. "Just try to pay attention." the Half-Dragon said. "My name is Samantha Hellion Kilith. I've been trying to get you to listen for months. Your program was the only way I could get you to pay attention." "Months?" Samuel asked in disbelief. "Even with all the bits of code you wrote, you never saw some of the comment lines. Ones I wrote." Samantha said, holding out her right hand. A Sniper Rifle appeared in the outstretched hand. Samuel saw Cobalt scales glitter up to Samantha's elbow. He recognized the rifle not as the place holder model he'd made, but rather the exact form of what he envisioned the MX12-S Heavy Rifle, from the Six round magazine, right down to the customized RF310 Scope. "Well, at least one of us knows what we're doing." Samantha said, throwing the rifle over her shoulders. "Anyway, we should get on to business. I need you to be a navigator." "What?" Samuel asked, uncertain about what that would involve. "I need you. To get in here. And navigate for me. So we can enter the Netscape." Samantha growled. "How?" Samuel argued. As far as he knew, there was no way to enter a computer, let alone whatever the Netscape is. "Through the Netshift! Tchael srinik Daedal, you idiot!" Samantha roared, punching the screen. It cracked. "Oh shit." they said in unison. Everything went Green. When everything returned to 'normal', only Samantha remained. \Great. What now?\ a voice describable as that of a younger Samantha rung through her head. /Samuel?/ Samantha thought. \Yes. It's me.\ the voice rang again. \It's sort of like I've been made into a smaller version of you, and been given an appropriately sized computer array.\ /Well, that's one thing sorted./ Samantha smiled. Maybe it wasn't so hard to get help after all. /I'm gonna call you Yuki./ \Sorry to interrupt, but is there a way to, uh, disconnect?\ Yuki said, in an uncertain and embarrassed tone. /Why Yuki?/ Samantha thought back. \Well, uh, for starters, I've been turned into a smaller you. I'm not quite comfortable with this yet.\ Yuki thought. /Ah well. We can't all be comfortable with anything./ Samantha thought, drawing her pair of NyteHawk NH-47 Pistols. Some time ago, she'd taken to calling them [The Hawk's Wings]. She holstered them again after making sure they remained undamaged. -------------------------------------------------- "Well, well, well. What've we got 'ere?" a guttural voice growled from behind. Samantha turned around, pulling her glasses over her eyes. "From the looks of it, an idiot, alone." she responded. "Funny. All I see is..." the owner of the voice said, stepping out from the shadows. He looked exactly how you'd expect a thug to look: bald, muscular and scarred. "...A little b-hurk.". He was interrupted by his stomach being ripped open by a well timed swipe of Samantha's claws. "Unfortunately for you, I find no obligation to listen to insults from idiots who believe themselves to be above me, or base assumptions on appearance." Samantha said, sparks crackling between her teeth. She inhaled, before spitting a bolt of electricity at the thug. -------------------------------------------------- Samantha woke up, convinced she'd just been in a fight and won. She held up her right hand. It was still covered in Cobalt scales. She held up her left hand. She still had her gauntlet. She sat up suddenly. /In the fight, I wasn't wearing a gauntlet./ she thought to herself. /Or goggles, for that matter./ \What fight?\ /Whuh? Who're you?/ she thought back at the sudden voice. \It's me, s-uh, Yuki. Your navigator.\ /So, that part actually happened./ \Yep, and I've found a way to temporarily disconnect our minds. It sort of kicks me out your head though.\ Samantha felt a slight itch for a moment, followed by the feeling of really small feet on her shoulder. "Like this." Yuki said, poking Samantha's cheek. "Wow." Samantha said, picking up Yuki by the tail. "Ah. It hurts!" Yuki squeaked. "Sorry. Not used to having a tiny me." Samantha said, putting Yuki back down. Yuki immediately started hugging her tail, which had started bleeding, and crying. "Well, I suppose we'd better go into the proper Netscape."

  Chapter 1 - Data Burst Initializing... - [1352 Words]

  The Netforts' beacon glowed with an intensifying light until it flared out, finally revealing the form of Samantha. She stood up from her crouch, and dusted her armor off. "Sorry ma'am, but you need to fill out this form before you can go anywhere." a nearby Wolfkind girl said. "Question before that. Does my miniature navigator need to do one as well?" Samantha asked. "Miniature navigator?" the Wolfkind girl asked. /Yuki, come out./ Samantha thought, before feeling the slight itch momentarily. "Hi..." Yuki said, quickly standing to attention, her face red. "Well, that's the first time I've seen such a thing. I suppose she is subject to the same regulations as us. My name's Danielle, by the way." the Wolfkind girl said, producing a couple sheets of paper. -------------------------------------------------- "I can't believe that anyone else would pick Marksman over the more versatile Soldier or even Mercenary." Danielle said. "Well, I originally wanted to go alone. Hence Yuki being my navigator." Samantha replied. "Moving on, I've heard that one of the Original Five is going to arrive tomorrow, just before the light." Danielle said excitedly. "So, that's something of a big deal?" Samantha asked. "Big deal? Of course it is. How often do you get to meet the very person who helped find an impossible place?" Danielle started ranting. "If we want to see him earliest, why don't we sleep now, and stay up all night then?" Samantha interjected, before she could be lectured on the importance of the Original Five. "There may be hope yet!" Danielle declared. "To bed!" "We do share a room, as you told me earlier." Samantha said, hoping to break this streak of insanity. -------------------------------------------------- Danielle woke up with something warm and wet on her cheek, something scaly wrapped around her left leg and a naked Half-Dragon girl hugging her. Not the most ideal conditions to wake up to. It only got worse when she tried to move. "Amuthr mimit, mam." came the mumble of the sleeping Dragon. Danielle couldn't help herself but smile. "Didn't you want to watch the heroic guy arrive?" Danielle said to her mostly asleep bedmate. This prompted movement. Samantha rolled off the bed, landing with a thud on the floor. "Why didn't you wake me when you woke." Samantha said as she stood, scratching the back of her head. "Ah, whatever. Have you seen my armor?". Danielle stared at the bare, nearly flat chest. Samantha cocked her head in confusion. "What, do I have something on my chest?" "Ah, n-no. It's just that I couldn't help but notice how masculine you are..." Danielle started, managing to avert her gaze. "Oh, OK. Ah, there's my gauntlet. I suppose I'd better look for something to cover myself with." Samantha said, looking around. -------------------------------------------------- "Really, Samantha? Thigh socks, hot pants and Seven belts?" Danielle teased. "Like you chose anything better. Camo pants and a red hoodie?" Samantha replied. "Anyway, which heroic guy are we here for?" "Reaper, the Soldier. Some say he has some sort of relationship with the Crimson Knight, who is also one of the Originals." Danielle said, holding up her smart-phone-like device, showing somebody's blog page describing the Original Five as they knew. The fifth entry was just question marks, but there were bits of info about the other Four. There was a disturbing amount of info about The Dragoon, including a photo of her training some newbies. "Are you sure this guy wasn't just stalking one of them." Samantha pointed out. "But he says up here he plans to have that much info on all of them. He also made a free for all blog for others to post about things they've seen in here." Danielle argued. "Look, here's an article on currencies used in here." she continued, tapping at the screen before showing it again. "Bits are the currency of the Netscape. They come in Six color variations, each having their own value. Purple have a value of One, but can be combined into special items which are invaluable. Orange have a value of Ten. Blue have a value of a Hundred. Grey have a value of a Thousand. Green have a value of Ten Thousand. An unconfirmed material has a estimated value of a Hundred Thousand. Just how much rumor do they mix in with fact?" Samantha read, before injecting her sarcastic opinion. "Not that much actually. The Sixth material was confirmed by a elite team of hackers. The Purple combination item was discovered when someone accidentally dropped over a Thousand Purple in one place. And 'spending' Bits by combining them with other items gives visible benefits. Someone once tried to combine a Green Bit with a Virusbeast, which is more or less made of Purple, and killed it instantly. Some people examine the stats of things they augment carefully to figure out what they do." Danielle explained. "So, general documentation procedures? Never found someone who couldn't check wikis for info. Anyway, where we gonna sit for these hours?" Samantha said derisively. "Right, you have a point. How about this storage shack?" Danielle suggested. /Anything valuable in there Yuki?/ Samantha thought. \Purple dot on your mini map. Scans show unusual readings.\ Yuki thought back. "Sounds good." Samantha said, licking Danielle's cheek. -------------------------------------------------- "Grae Daedal, it's full of boxes." Samantha said, wandering eastwards. "Well, yeah. Everybody puts their stuff in here. There's this guy who runs a shop in here somewhere." Danielle said, looking around. "Is this him?" Samantha pulled a diminutive, cloaked figure from behind a box. "Yeah, definitely him. I've seen him before." Danielle confirmed. "So, put me down please?" the figure asked. "Oh, sorry. I have this tendency to pick up small people." Samantha apologized, putting the cloaked figure down. "Now, what were you looking for?" the figure said. "This. What the hell is it?" Samantha said, picking up a Blood Red Dragon wing from next to her. \Yep, that's it.\ Yuki thought. "The Drakewing D-0 Sonic Projector. It is both a guitar and a weapon, and not just for hitting things. Even if I never figured out how to make it work. I guess I could sell it to you for Seventy bits." the figure said. "Thirty!" Samantha offered. "Fifty. Final offer." the figure haggled, offering his hand. Samantha shook it, finalizing the deal. "Any sets of SC43 armor we can take bits from?" Danielle asked. "Right this way." the figure started heading further east. Danielle and Samantha looked at each other and nodded, before following the Shadeling. -------------------------------------------------- "So, how much total?" Samantha asked the Shadeling. "875 Bits." the Shadeling answered, holding out a scanner of sorts. Samantha stared in confusion. "Sam, put your hand on the scanner." Danielle advised, slapping herself in the face. "Sorry, she's new to this." "No worries, we were all new once." the Shadeling said. Samantha put her hand on the scanner as instructed. "So, what now?" Samantha said, moving her hand off the scanner. "We see if Reaper is near yet." Danielle said. "Ladder's over there." the Shadeling pointed at a nearby corner, which had a ladder bolted on. "Thanks, see ya." Danielle shouted back, already halfway there. -------------------------------------------------- On the horizon, Samantha could see something very wrong through the scope of her rifle. "Do you see that?" she asked Danielle. Danielle nodded. "Wanna do something about it?" "Yeah, but what can a pair of snipers do to that? By the looks of it, there must be hundreds of them." Danielle replied. What they were seeing was a truck being pursued by a swarm of Databeasts. "This." Samantha grinned, pulling the trigger twice consecutively. Somewhere in the distance, several Databeasts exploded. Danielle attempted to imitate the action, but nearly lost balance after the first shot. "Bloody hell, how do you do that." Danielle said, restabilizing herself. "No idea." Samantha replied, pulling the trigger twice, turning slightly, then double pulling again. "Guess it has something to do with my method of holding it?". She did have a point, because she had wrapped her tail around the forward grip instead of holding it with her hand. Danielle shook her head before lining up another shot while Samantha reloaded.

  Chapter 2 - Animus Dawn - [1013 Words]

  It had been hours since the two had started shooting, and others with scoped weapons were joining in. A chorus of sniper fire roared, spitting hot lead out into the wildernet. The target they were protecting was a truck. "I think we need a break." Samantha said, dropping another empty magazine onto the pile. She also considered asking to trade magazines with her partner, but decided to do that later. "Yeah, we're nearly out of ammo." Danielle agreed. The pair gathered up the piece of cloth they'd been dropping magazines onto, and climbed back into the storage shed. They could sort the pile out later. -------------------------------------------------- The sniper fire rang out again. Samantha watched the truck as it handbrake parked to the right, then disgorged it's crew of Three. From the drivers seat, a manly Wolfkind with Silver fur stepped out. The next out was the passenger, who was a slim Half-Dragon with Opalescent scales. Finally, out the back jumped what initially looked like a Human... with White, feathery wings. Samantha adjusted her goggles slightly, enabling the identification software. Above the heads of the three, the words Fang - Wolfkind, Reaper - Half-Dragon [Prismatic] and Hawke - Zelkyr appeared. She quickly disabled the software, before shaking Danielle back to a state of awakeness. "They're here." she said, licking Danielle's cheek. "Really?" Danielle said, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah. Hi." Reaper said. "You girls got anything to do with the mass sniper support here?" "Sort of." Samantha said. "Our original plan was just to watch you arrive, but we couldn't resist taking out some of the Databeasts behind you. Others joined in at some point." "Nice to know. Since you started it off, why not join me?" Reaper offered. "It could be fun." "Dan?" Samantha asked. "Why not?" Danielle answered. -------------------------------------------------- "So, we take the truck out to the fight. By then, it should be reasonable to expect the Five of us to be capable of fighting off any remaining Databeasts." Reaper stated. "I hope you two brought close range weapons." "Of course we did." Samantha and Danielle said simultaneously, pulling out their backup weapons. Samantha held up her Hawk's Wings, while Danielle held up an Rhunic and Kayle RK-188 CAWS. "OK, I really hope you never need to use that. Dragon girl, show me that guitar you have." Reaper said. "I has got a name, y'know. It's Samantha." Samantha said, holstering her pistols. She then lifted the Drakewing off her back. "Never thought I'd see one of these again." Reaper said, taking the sonic weapon from Samantha's hands. "Keep good care of it, Sam." "Again?" Hawke asked. Fang nodded, as if to reinforce the question. "Long story, later." Reaper said, dodging the subject. "Anyway, Dan, never use full auto." -------------------------------------------------- Despite their preparations, nobody actually needed to shoot anything. Which was disturbing, considering just how many Databeasts there had been just a few minutes ago. To make up for the lack of combat, Samantha, Danielle and Hawke were playing a card game in the back of the moving truck. "Got any Fives?" Hawke asked. "Raise. Sixes?" Samantha answered. "Double Down. Eights?" Danielle added. "Fold." Hawke replied. "All in. Aces?" Samantha grinned. "Fold. Can we stop playing Calvin Cards now?" Danielle sighed. "Yeah. I win every time. It gets boring." Samantha yawned. "Only if you want to play something really offensive." Hawke warned. A moment later, the entire visible Netscape glitched, before suddenly changing from desert wasteland to dense forest. Unsurprisingly, this was immediately followed by the crunch of a truck hitting a tree. That was then followed by the thump of someone landing on a car. "Tchal Daedal!" came the shout from above. It was clearly a feminine voice. Everybody disembarked, as they clearly weren't getting any further in the truck, and to see who landed on the top. "Damnit, Crimson. How the hell did you manage to get up there? No, wait, let me guess. 'By accident'." Reaper said. "Well, no. I fell." Crimson said, rolling off the trucks' roof. Nobody moved to catch her. "Ow." She stood up, groaning in pain. "So, you know each other?" Danielle asked. "Unfortunately, yes. She was one of the first Five in this place. Her only real skills are causing glitches and her swordsmanship. She never learned from any of her mistakes, and only carries a broadsword." Reaper said, sighing. "Hey! I did learn how to teamwork!" Crimson retaliated, standing proudly and pointing at herself with her thumb, not realizing that Samantha was stacking leaves on her head. "Anyway, we need to find a way out of these lost woods." Reaper said, starting to head somewhat eastwards. "We need to go west. There should be a cave that way." Yuki said, suddenly standing on Samantha's head. Crimson stared at the tiny navigator, before picking her up by the tail. "Why always the tail?" Yuki started crying. "So cute." Crimson said, leaves still stacked perfectly on her head. "Put down my navigator and get Reaper to come back." Samantha growled, teeth sparking. "On it!" Crimson said, dropping Yuki back on Samantha's head and running after Reaper. Yuki hugged her tail and sighed in relief. -------------------------------------------------- Once the group had organized somewhat properly, they started heading west. After trekking through the trees for a solid hour, they saw exactly what they didn't want to see. "Oh shit!" came the general cry as they dashed to hide behind trees. Except Crimson, who kept walking unaware of the giant Virusbeast right in front of her. "Come on guys, there's nothing to be afraid of." she said, immediately before walking into the Virusbeast's leg. "Excuse me, sir, but you appear to be. In. My. Way." She drew her broadsword, cut the Virusbeast in half and sheathed the sword again in quick succession. "You're already dead." The Virusbeast clicked three times before exploding. "And it's a bad thing you know her because?" Samantha asked Reaper. "She lacks intelligence, instead taking ridiculous shows of strength. As you just saw." Reaper answered. Everything started glitching again, and the forest was replaced with a patch of wasteland outside an overly excessive fortress.

  Chapter 3 - The Bastion

  "Time for a crash course in jet packs. Think of it as a pair of wings for those without." Crimson grinned, spreading her wings out. "Oh, and, don't crash." "That is terrible advice, Crimson." Samantha complained. "So, you'd prefer to be grounded?" Crimson teased, putting on a pair of aviator goggles. "I'm just saying, I can handle a motorcycle. Never used a jet pack before." Samantha said. "Hey, whatever. Any time we spend arguing here is time you spend away from your girlfriend." Crimson teased. She realized her mistake a moment later, when Samantha rocket tackled her. "Fuck you, I'm a Dragon! And we're getting there last night!" Samantha screamed over the sound of her jet pack. The two glitched for a moment, before tearing apart mid-air. -------------------------------------------------- True to her word, Samantha had managed to viciously tear apart and reconstruct the time line so she and Crimson arrived at their destination before they left. The problem was, they were still travelling at ridiculous speed towards a brick wall. "Emergency brake, EMERGENCY BRAKE!" Crimson shouted. The pair glitched again, and halted. "Never knew I could do that." Samantha said, jet pack switching to hover. "I mean, how does that even?" "Don't ask me. The best I've done is just a small radius Teleport." Crimson shrugged. Samantha switched the jet pack off completely. "Y'know, you never make much sense." Samantha said, smiling enough to show a single fang. "Thanks, it takes skill to be this good." Crimson said, folding her wings. --------------------------------------------------

  -[WARNING: CHAPTERS 2-FINAL UNFINSHED]-

A long time later

  Epilogue - A Hero Returns

  Danielle sat gazing at the glitching gap that had swallowed Samantha. Reaper would bring lunch to her every day, and join her in watching The Rift. Reaper would tell news from The Troper's Bastion, and Danielle would just nod, watching The Rift intently. Months passed, this routine unbroken. -------------------------------------------------- "Come on, Danny. The Rift is getting bad. At least in The Bastion, you can't catch viruses." Reaper said. "No. She'll be back. She never breaks a promise." Danielle retorted. The Rift seemed to react to this by intensifying it's glitching, an assortment of vaguely humanoid shapes silhouetted on it's surface. "She promised." Danielle whispered. "Damn right I did." The static distorted the speaker's voice to unrecognizability. The Rift stopped glitching entirely as Samantha stepped through, followed by a squad of Tempest Troopers. "Sorry, these guys insisted." Samantha said, licking the back of her left hand. "Sorry, Ma'am, for ever doubting you. Here's your weapons back." one of the troopers said. "And yet, you never took my Guitar." Samantha grinned. Danielle and Reaper burst into laughter at that remark, drawing the ire of at least one trooper. "Sammy, you magnificent tchon." Reaper said, laughing. "Oh, and, about half the men sent in never arrived, unless you've seen them." Samantha said seriously. "As I've seen, nobody left The Rift prior to you, Sam." Danielle reported. "And she sort of stationed herself on watch here, until you returned." Reaper added. "Oh well. Hey, The Troper's Bastion will want to see that their hero has returned, right?" Samantha asked offhandedly. "Let's go then!" Danielle exclaimed, grabbing Samantha's arm.

[frangipanidownunder]

Under a wide sky: Chapter 7

Final part of my AU set in 1950s Australia for @leiascully‘s XFWriting Challenge prompt International. Chapter Seven: End and Beginning

Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three

Chapter Four  Chapter Five  Chapter Six

When Mulder was a boy and Samantha just an annoying toddler, he would love to ignore his sister, playing with his tin soldiers and creating heroes in his mind. She would sit on the floor of the small living room whilst their mother dusted or baked and suck her thumb, staring at him. She was a placid child, wide-eyed and shy. But she loved to watch him; he could feel her eyes boring into him. Sometimes he felt that she was trying to read his mind. When she was old enough for school, she was a bright learner, just like him, but again, she would sit next to him at the oak table in the draughty kitchen and watch him as he did his sums or wrote his English story. When she went missing, he was sure that her mind would reach out to his. He searched the skies, mentally calling out for her. She never did come home. And now there were so many years between them, he wondered if his mind had closed off.

 But when he saw his son sitting at the cracked, lop-sided table Mulder saw those same serious eyes and instantly felt that same deep connection. He heard Scully gasp and saw her pained expression and realised that she felt it too.

           “William?” Mulder stepped forward, closing the physical distance between himself and his son. He could see the dryness on his son’s lips, the fair stubble that dotted his upper lip and chin, the gold flecks in his blue eyes. Yet, the truth was that there were years between them. Mulder could only hope that he could open his mind to his child.

           “Yes, it’s me.”

           Skinner clasped his hands in front of him, wringing his fingers. Scully stood close to Mulder, her hands resting over her abdomen.

           “Why are you here?” Mulder tried to keep his voice even, despite his urge to take the boy in his arms and hug him close. “How are you here?”

           “I have a story to tell you. And a plan.”

William stood up and looked at his parents. His brow quirked, just like Scully and she began to sob at the expression. Skinner pulled out another chair and Mulder helped her sit down.

The young man shook his head. “I’m sorry. But I had to come. Despite the risks.”

 Mulder had read his fair share of science fiction comics. What he understood about time travel, he’d gleaned from those magazines. How would their son’s appearance in this dimension, before he’d even been born, impact the rest of their lives? His own life? The ripples of this kind of interference could, theoretically, travel forever.

“Can we go somewhere else? The smell of this place is making me nauseous.”

Scully rested her head in her hands and breathed deeply. Mulder rubbed her back.

“Where’s a safe place, William? For you and for us?”

Skinner cleared his throat. “You can come to mine.”

 Skinner’s apartment was plush and spacious. Mulder felt the same wonder that struck with every new discovery in this decade. Living conditions were comfortable beyond measure. When he thought back to his digs on the Skinner station he nearly laughed out loud. If only he could tell this Skinner that he really needed to work on his worker’s accommodation. But, here, he simply sank into the leather sofa with Scully and waited for their son to gather his thoughts.

           William paced, hands on his hips. He flexed his jaw. It was a little disconcerting for Mulder to witness these mannerisms, his own. He caught Scully’s gaze and she pushed her lips together, offering him a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

           “I’ve travelled here to help you stop what’s about to happen. The man you know as Spender or Old Smokey or Cigarette Smoking Man has been using technology from a crashed space craft for more than 60 years,” his voice stilled and he looked directly at Mulder with wet eyes. “Sorry, it’s just so weird to finally meet you.”

           “Same here, buddy,” Mulder said, his throat constricting.

           William chuffed out a laugh. “In 1950, in country Victoria in Australia a craft crashed and Spender, then mayor of a small town called…”

           “Tarra Warra,” Mulder said simultaneously.

           “Yes,” William said.

           “I was there with Scully when the craft came to life,” Mulder looked from William to Scully to Skinner.

Skinner frowned. “What are you saying, Mulder? That you’ve travelled too?”

           Mulder nodded. “I’m Fox Mulder, born 1920. I was trapped with Scully at Spender’s property in Tarra Warra when the craft sparked into life. There was a bright light and then I woke up here in hospital.”

           “Mulder had been missing for months, abducted,” Skinner said to William. “He was found dead, tortured. We buried him.”

           “Back from the dead. And now back from the past,” William replied.

           Scully pinched the bridge of her nose. Mulder noticed the tremble in her hands.

           “The craft…but why didn’t Scully and the others travel with me?”

           William shrugged. “The technology was still new then. I would suggest you are the first human to have survived the experiment.”

           “Spender was planning to send Scully and I together. To retrieve something important to his plan. I suspect that something was you. We were to find you and take you back.”

           Nodding, William replied. “We know that he developed the technology using that original craft. He spent time perfecting his experiments.”

Scully held her forehead with her hand. “Animals, sheep, cows, they disappeared. Then came back. But they always came back dead,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut, whispering. “I don’t know why I know that, but I do.”

           “It’s like a memory, Scully,” Mulder said, his arm around her shoulder.

“He then shipped the technology around the world. People disappeared without a trace.”

“How do you fit in, William?” Skinner stared hard at the young man.

One of Mulder’s visions, when he woke last week in the hospital, was of him and Scully cradling a newborn between them. It didn’t seem to matter what era it was, but their child was always desperately wanted, desperately loved and desperately beautiful. He suffered crushing pangs of guilt about how his parents must have felt when Samantha disappeared. A child is so protected from the cruel realities of the adult world, no matter how intelligent or precocious. He had been sad, lost and confused, but he didn’t feel the burden of loss that his parents would have endured. When he cared for Emmanuelle, back in the French village, he knew he was doing so as a way of processing what had happened to Samantha. But even then, he knew that what he felt was nowhere near as strong as the pull a parent would feel.

Seeing William pacing in front of him, his heart was shredded. If he was here, alone, that meant something had prevented he and Scully from protecting him, from doing their duty, from being his parents. What had happened? He wasn’t sure he could cope with the knowledge.

William sucked in a deep breath. “When I was not quite a year old you gave me up for adoption, out of fears for my safety.”

Scully clutched at her stomach and doubled over, moaning deeply. Mulder placed an arm over her waist and laid his head down on her back, riding her shuddering sobs.

“It’s okay, Mum. Really, it’s okay. I’m fine. I’ve done fine. My parents are wonderful people. I was safe. I was loved. You did the right thing. And I always knew I’d meet you again. I can’t explain it, I just knew.”

Mulder lifted himself up and clutched at Scully’s shoulders, pulling her up against him. She turned her face to his shoulder and sobbed quietly.

“When I was about 15, I started to get these strange sensations, a pulling, a kind of a need to be somewhere. One time, my adoptive parents found me ten miles away from our home, walking in my nightclothes, no shoes on. I was completely unaware of what was happening to me. One night, I went out on our back deck and looked up at the skies and everything fell into place.”            “What did, William?” Mulder asked.

“I left the next day. I didn’t have a clue where I was headed but I knew where I was going. It’s hard to explain. I ended up in Virginia. At CGB Spender’s property. Where he stored a craft – a UFO.”

“He was expecting me. He had this arrogant grin on his face. He told me that he knew I was coming.” William stopped and smiled. A real Mulder smile. “So I told him that I knew I was coming too because my future self told me.”

Skinner’s throat rumbled with a low chuckle. “This kid is definitely yours, Mulder.”

William grinned briefly. “I stayed there learning all I could. From the original crashed craft Spender managed to develop technology so refined that we travel using chips under the skin.” He looked at Scully.

She shifted towards Mulder, rubbing at her nape.

“It’s not the same as yours, Mum. Yours was an earlier model, cruder. Mine is made from the same material as the craft. That’s the work I learned. How to program it, how to control it. And throughout this time, Spender thought he was brainwashing me, but I trained myself to block him out.”

“How did you do that?” Mulder asked.

“I looked at the skies, studied the stars. They grounded me.” William chuffed out a laugh. “I know that sounds strange, but it’s the only way I can explain it. The night sky draws me in and clears my mind.”

Mulder looked up at his son and nodded. “I understand more than you think, William.”

“He travels often, forward and back. He has picked off many of his enemies, disappeared them. But I escaped and I have the technology up here. I can create the chips but I can also destroy the craft,” he tapped his head. “I am now his greatest enemy.”

“And we were supposed to bring you back to where it all began. So that he could eliminate you.”

Scully paled and her hands trembled in her lap. “That’s not going to happen.”

Skinner rubbed his chin. “You said you had a plan, William. What is it?”

“To go back. To Tarra Warra. To where it all began.”

“No,” Scully repeated. “You can’t.” Her voice waned to a whisper.

“It’s the only way, Mum.”

 Skinner paced the kitchen, Scully stood at the sink and stared at the leaves of the maidenhair fern that tumbled out of a pot on the kitchen counter. Mulder chewed on the inside of his cheek, waiting for the right moment. He stood long enough for his knees to lock up. He thought about Samantha and how he had changed direction after her disappearance. What would he have done with his life if she’d still been with him? He thought about Emmanuelle and how, in the end, he couldn’t save her. He thought about the Scully he’d left behind, in Tarra Warra, at the mercy of Spender. He didn’t have a choice. He had to go back with William. But he had to tell Scully first.

           “I know you’re going, Mulder. I can hear you thinking.”

           “Then you’ll know I have no choice.”

           She turned towards him with wet eyes. “I know you’d do anything to protect our child. Even if this isn’t, strictly speaking, your child.”

           Touching her, feeling the warm tightness of her abdomen, he swallowed back his own tears. “You’re protecting him now. Nurturing him. And look what a great job you did, Scully. You did this.” He turned to William, who was standing in the doorway.

           “Mulder…” she sobbed.

           William moved forward. “We go together, tonight. We find Spender, I disable the craft and we…”

           “Eliminate him?” Scully offered, rubbing the sides of her baby bump.

           William said nothing.

           “And what happens here?” Skinner said.

           “That’s the part I can’t answer,” William said, rubbing the back of his neck.

           “I lose Mulder,” Scully said, pressing the back of her hand to her lips. “Again.”

 They travelled back to the warehouse in silence. Mulder stared out the rain-streaked windows, the night sky star-less and brooding. Scully sat rigid beside him. William, in the front seat, looked straight ahead and Skinner drove, punctuating the silence with the occasional crack of his neck.

           William held the door open for his mother, and held her hand as she lifted herself out of the car. Mulder smiled at his courtesy.

           “There’s no point in coming inside,” William told her.

           “I want to say goodbye,” she whispered.

           Mulder moved towards her. “This is not goodbye, Scully. There’s never a goodbye for us.”

           He drew her into an embrace, the feel of their unborn son between them. He breathed her in, committing her scent to memory. This Scully, his 1950 Scully, all his Scullies, they all smelled the same. They smelled like the person he loved.

 He stood with William. Skinner took a weeping Scully away.

William gathered a bag that he strapped over his shoulders. “Always travel well-prepared.”

“And after? What happens?”

“I return to the future and we destroy the technology. So that it can never be used again.”

“That might be harder than you think. The power you’ve got in that chip. It changes everything.”

William nodded and took Mulder’s hands and closed his eyes. Through Mulder’s tears their hands blurred and it was hard to see where he began and William ended.

           “All great and honourable actions are undertaken with great difficulty.”

“What?” Mulder croaked.

William chuffed. “You’ll understand one day. It’s time, Dad.”

           The light was intense, burning his eyes. He called out for Scully.

 He felt numb. His ears seemed to be filled with cotton wool. His temples throbbed. His eyes were stuck together. His lips were raw. His lungs were on fire. He had no idea where he was. The hard ground pressed into his shoulder blades and hips. He lifted an arm over his face, bent a knee up, tried to get a purchase to roll onto his side, but flailed hopelessly.

           The voice was distant at first. A dream voice. But it became more insistent.

           “Mulder, can you hear me? Mulder, it’s me, Scully. Wake up.”

           Her hands were tender over his face, his chest, his arms.

           “The baby, the baby,” he said, unsticking his eyes.

           She was hovering over him, her eyes wet and wide, frown lines deep between her brows. He looked at her, her face, her hair, her body.

           “Are you okay, Scully? Is William okay?”

           “William?” she pressed her hand to his forehead and sighed. “You’re running a fever, Mulder.”

           He lifted his head and cried out in pain. “Where are we? Where’s William?”

           “We’re in the bush, outside Spender’s property.”

           Mulder heaved himself up, leaning on Scully. She felt so solid and comforting in his grasp. “What happened?”

           “Skinner, Bill and the others have gone to get a car to take us back. You’ve been out for a while. They should be here soon.”

           “Bill? You mean William?”

           She tutted. “We haven’t called him that in years.”

           Mulder rubbed his gritty eyes. He turned onto his knees and stood up, limbs heavy with fatigue. “We have to find William.”

           “Bill is coming soon. With the others. I’m more worried about where Old Smokey and his crew are. They won’t have taken too kindly to us breaking out.”

           “William will protect us. He knows what to do. We have to get to him.” He took her hand and looked at her for the first time.

This was his 1950 Scully. She wasn’t pregnant. She didn’t know who William was. He didn’t know how much time had passed since the bright white light exploded with the humming of the craft. But where was William?

           “Mulder, I hear the car. We can go back to the farm. Work things out.”

           The engine cut out and they staggered out to meet it, Scully doing her best to support his weight. He looked up when he heard angry voices, thuds and hisses and muffled scraping. Scully heaved him upright and his vision straightened. Before him stood Skinner and Bill holding William by an arm each and behind, jumping from the tray of the ute, Byers, Langly and Frohike.

           William looked directly at Mulder. “Tell them who I am.”

 Mulder swallowed. Scully sucked in a sharp breath. Skinner scowled, Bill yanked William’s arm behind his back. The other three looked at each other, perplexed.

           “This is William. He’s my…son. He knows about the craft, about Spender.”

           Scully quirked a brow and jutted out her jaw. “This…man is not that much younger than you, Mulder. How can he be your son?”

           “It’s not quite what it seems. William is…not…from here.”

           Bill Scully snarled. “You’re not from here, Yank. Now why don’t you tell us what the hell is really going on?”

           “Settle down, Bill.” Skinner’s warning seemed to calm Bill Scully a little.

           William struggled against his captor’s grips. “It’s the truth. But there’s no time for the full story. If we can find Spender and his craft I can destroy it. Then we can all go…home and live our lives.”

           “What is he talking about, Mulder?” Skinner’s tone of authority cut through the chatter of the others.

           Mulder looked at Scully and took her hand. He squeezed it, hoping to convey to her his genuine concern. “This is William. He is our son, Scully. But he is our son from another time, from the future.” He held up his hands against her imminent protest. “I know, I know. But it’s the truth. The strangest, most unbelievable of truths, but nevertheless the truth. He has the key to destroying Spender and the craft he has constructed using the alien technology. The craft that, years in the future, has become Spender’s greatest weapon. A tool for him to destroy his enemies in all lifetimes. But this time, this place, this universe, this is the one where it all started. If we stop him now we stop him forever.”

 Missy rushed to the gate, tail wagging. When William bent to pat her head she licked his face and rolled over for a tummy rub. He looked at Scully.

           “You’ve got a dog.”

Mulder frowned at him.

“You’ve had a few over the years. One was this fluffy little…never mind.”

Scully knelt down next to William and rubbed Missy behind the ears “She likes you. That’s a good sign.”

“I know this is hard for you. You’re naturally sceptical. But there is a small part

of you that is open to the magical and the mystical, the unexplained and the unfathomable. It doesn’t come to the surface often, but it exists.

She raised her eyebrows. “Really? I thought parents were supposed to recognise character traits in their offspring. Not the other way round.”

William smiled. “You also have a wicked sense of humour when you want to and you sound really funny with an Australian accent.”

Mulder laughed out loud.

She stood up. “Are you really who you say you are?”

William’s face straightened. “Yes. I promise you I am.”

She looked at Mulder and then to the others walking up the steps into the house. “Because if you’re not, you might find yourself up against people who don’t share my openness towards the magical. Or my sense of humour.”

She walked towards the verandah, Missy at her feet.

Mulder looked at William and smacked him on the back.

“She’s amazing in every universe.”

William nodded and grinned. “And she’s my Mum.”

 Bill Scully was pacing the floor, sculling a shot of whiskey. Skinner was standing, arms crossed, face set. The other three were sitting at the kitchen table.

“William,” Byers said. “It’s good to meet you.” He offered the young man a hand.

“We’ve been aware of the craft and its ability for some time, but the experiments Spender has been conducting have been rudimentary in this lifetime. To meet someone who has a full understanding of this technology is an honour.”

“It’s an honour to meet the kind of people who keep a track on this sort of thing.

Without your…paranoia the rest of the world would just remain in the dark about the clandestine activities of the military, of the government, of men like Spender and their power.”

“Tell me that in the future people actually listen to us, take note of those clandestine activities, open their eyes to the possibility that the government might not always act in the best interests of the people,” Frohike said.

William smiled. “You won’t believe what technology you’ll have access to in years to come. And you’re going to love the internet.”

“The what?” Langly asked.

Bill Scully slammed his glass down on the table. “Why don’t we cut the chit-chat and work on a plan? This kid reckons he’s a time-traveller but all I hear is fancy talk. If Spender really has been doing these experiments, causing trouble in this town, what are you going to do about it?”

William cleared his throat. “I need to go to his property. I can destroy the craft and I can eliminate this Spender so that his knowledge doesn’t go any further.”

Skinner stepped forward. “You can’t do it on your own. I’m coming.”

Mulder nodded. “I’m going too.”

Bill shook his head. “I can’t believe I have to go back to that place again. Dana, this is crazy.”

“I know, Bill. I’m still not sure I believe it all, but the animals, the lights…and the visions I’ve had, like distant memories, they’re too real to ignore. And I think it’s even more crazy to do nothing about it. I’ll get the shot guns. Wait here.” She went to the door.

All the men, in unison, said. “No!”

She pressed her lips into a thin white line and folded her arms across her. “I know the place. I need to come with you.”

“You’ll be better off staying here. With Tara and the kids.”

“Bill, I’m not a fragile little girl. I know what I can do. I’ve seen it.”

Mulder shook his head. “You’re right, Scully, you’re a strong woman. But Bill’s right too. You should stay here, stay safe. Spender is dangerous. If something were to go wrong over there tonight, at least you’ll be here as back up. These three will stay too.”

She relented with a long sigh. “But nothing will go wrong, will it, Mulder?”

He chuffed out a sigh and put his hands on her shoulders. “Not if I can help it.”

“You’ll come back?” she said, lying her head on his chest.

Bill growled and Mulder pushed her away. He looked at William.

“Let’s go.”

 A hot, wind shrieked as they got out of the ute and headed for the perimeter fence. Mulder looked up to the skies. The stars of the Southern Cross shone out of the blackness and he thought about Scully.

They got through the fence and on to the property fast with William’s bag of tricks. They made their way to the shed that housed the craft.

           “This feels too easy. There aren’t as many guards as before. And this place looks like a battleground,” Mulder said to William as they pressed against a wall of one of the corridors. The building was unlit now and where it had been cool before, the heat of day seemed to have been trapped inside. The air was stale, stifling.

           “It smells like there’s been some kind of fire here, an explosion maybe.”

           “It felt like that, before I jumped dimensions.”

           “Where’s Spender?” Bill whispered.

           “He’s around,” William responded. “I can sense him.”

           Skinner grunted and motioned at two guards who were coming through the double doors. Behind them they saw the remnants of the craft, a wing torn, its nose sagging forward. The panels had lost their gloss and the cockpit looked burnt out.

           “It looks too damaged to work. But I still need to access the control panel to release the virus that will destroy the operating program and down it for good.”

Skinner pounced and he and Bill took down both men in a short and fairly quiet struggle. Bill dragged their motionless bodies out of the way of the doors. Mulder edged open the door and checked the room. He pointed right twice and William followed, backed up by Skinner and Bill. They slipped in to the hangar and hid behind a pile of boxes. The cavernous room was a mess. Strewn across the floor were boxes and butcher’s paper, items of clothing, hats. There was a row of jerry cans against the far wall. Guards were groaning on the floor, some were holding their heads, propped against the walls. Others were limping.

“What happened here?” Mulder asked in a low voice as they took stock of the room.

Before anyone could answer, the doors on the other side of the room burst open and Spender walked in, holding a cigarette to his mouth. Without warning, Bill Scully rushed from their cover and ran towards him. Spender motioned to two guards and they grabbed at him, nearly halting his progress, but he pushed past them and got his hands on Spender.

“You told me you were doing the right thing for this town. That you were going to bring employment and opportunities that no other town in this area would get.” He grabbed Spender by the collars. “But you abducted my sister, you took our stock.”

Skinner got up to crouch on his feet. “Stupid bastard.”

William reached into his bag and pulled out a card, shining like the discs from the craft, and a small palm-sized device. “The Scully fiery streak in action.”

Mulder grimaced. “What now?”

“I need to get nearer to the craft. This is remote but I need to be closer. Cover me.”

With that he headed to where Bill was being manhandled away from Spender. “Leave him, Spender. It’s me you want.”

Spender dropped his cigarette and it rolled across the dusty floor. “Ah, the wunderkind arrives. If you’re here with your parents, this will be a real family reunion.”

“Let him go.”

“And then what? We go and have a cosy chat about life in the future? Or the past?” His laugh echoed around the hangar. “You can’t destroy me, William Mulder. And you can’t destroy this.” He swung his arm towards the craft. “You see, I’m like a boomerang. I just keep coming back.” He stepped forward and his face levelled with William’s.

Mulder edged forward, but Skinner put a hand on his shoulder. “Not yet.”

William held up the card and device. “You’re wrong, Spender.”

He slotted the card into the device. Spender stepped forward to grab it. William lifted it above his head. The guards dropped Bill and leapt towards William, grappling him to the ground. Mulder and Skinner launched themselves towards the group. Bill stood up and charged Spender, crashing into the jerry cans and pushing him to the ground, and laying a solid punch to his jaw in the process. The stench of petrol filled Mulder’s nostrils and he watched as a rainbow trail of liquid ran across the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, William rolled over and hauled himself back up, clutching the device to his chest. One of the guards shoved him hard enough and he dropped it. Skinner bent to collect it but was caught by the other guard. Mulder changed direction to pick it up.

He held it in his hand, rushing to William’s side. “What do I do?”

A scorching gust of wind flew through the open doors and the still-lit cigarette rolled towards the cans. Flames erupted.

A guard landed on Mulder’s back and shoved him face-first into the ground. He lost his grip on the device. The fire was spreading and Mulder was grateful when Skinner pulled the guard off and laid him flat with a right hook. William lashed out at the other, but Spender swiped the device from the floor. He ran towards the far door and William followed, tailed by Mulder, Bill and Skinner.

In seconds, fire engulfed the hangar. Wounded guards limped away, covering their faces against the acrid smoke that billowed. Mulder watched as the flames licked at the wings of the craft before the heat built too high and he pulled the door shut. Spender had climbed into a car and was cutting across the yard towards the stand of pines at the edges of his property. Dust spewed behind him.

Behind them the noise of another car caught their attention.

“Get in!” Scully braked hard and leant to open the passenger door. Mulder grinned and hopped in beside her. The others piled in the back. She stamped on the accelerator and sped out of the yard just as the whole place boomed, orange fire sprays lighting up the sky.

“Shit,” William cried. “I didn’t activate the virus.”

Watching the steel structure melt and warp, Mulder shook his head. “Does it matter now?”

“If there’s any remaining cells left, it matters.”

“Then we need to find Spender,” Skinner yelled. “And fast. That fire is going to spread in a heartbeat.”

“And right towards our properties,” Bill said.

 Scully maneouvered the vehicle through the trees, following the dust of Spender’s truck as he twisted and turned, trying to throw them off. The roar of the wind and the fire echoed through the valley and the wall of flame behind them grew. An explosion rocked the night and all but Scully turned to see a fountain of embers spew into the sky towards the town.

           “Bentley’s property. Gas tanks have gone up.” Skinner grimaced at Bill. “The service station’ll be next.”

           The vehicle’s tyres screeched as Scully braked hard to avoid Spender’s vehicle as it clipped a tree and spun onto the track in front of them before colliding with a solid gum tree trunk. Mulder saw her knuckles whiten as the ute lurched to a stop, a hair’s breadth from another gum. Her hair was stuck to her face and her arms were trembling.

           “Good parking, Scully.” He grinned at her before opening the door. “Stay here.”

           “In your dreams, Mulder.” She yanked open her door and joined him at Spender’s vehicle with Bill, Skinner and William.

           Old Smokey was slumped over the steering wheel, his head twisted at an unnatural angle, blood gushing down from a deep cut on his hair line. The front of his truck had crumpled and his legs were stuck into the tangle of metal.

           Scully pressed her fingers to his neck. She shook her head.

           “Another job I didn’t get to finish,” William said, with a rueful smile. He reached into the passenger side and collected the device and card. “I can’t leave this here. Even if he is dead in this lifetime.”

           “We have to get out of here,” Bill said. “That fire’s heading straight for the stations.”

           By the time the reached the Skinner property his men had already started to hose the roofs and fill buckets and bins. The CFA truck, blue lights flashing, was parked up in front of the main house. Skinner jumped out.

           “Let’s get home, Dana,” Bill said, as they turned onto the main road.

 The fire front was building, rolling up the hills with deadly speed. The sky was a deep, rolling black. Ash fell in acrid drifts. The wind shrieked, sending gum branches flying like missiles. Bill unrolled the hoses and Mulder, Scully and William were tasked with filling buckets.

           “I can just get us out of here,” William said, rubbing his neck. “Somewhere safe.”

           “We can’t lose this place, William,” Scully replied, hefting a bucket of water and wetting along the fence line on the fire side.

           The firestorm roared closer and Mulder could see flames shoot into the air, crackling and sparking, over at the Skinner boundary line. He ducked as a rain of hot ash fell over him.

           “That’s one of Skinner’s sheds going up,” Bill yelled. “I don’t think we can fight this. We need to get inside. Into the bathroom. Dana, go and help Tara wet the towels. Get Matty.”

           They huddled in the small room, sheltering under damp towels. Mulder had survived war, evil wreaked on humans by humans. But Mother Nature’s fury, fire in the dry Australian bush, was a whole new dimension of terror. The force of it, the noise of it, the ultimate futility of it, left him shaking with emotion. Scully was pressed against him, William at his other side. Matty whimpered as Bill held his family in his arms. A huge rush of wind rammed the house, rattling the windows, the eaves groaning. The fire bellowed above and around them.

Then silence.

They cleaned up what they could. They moved burnt sheep to a pile behind the bottom shed. They showered but Mulder couldn’t get the smell out from his nostrils or the sound out of his head. Even the meal Tara prepared tasted smoky.

           “I’m sorry, Mrs Scully,” he said. “I’m just not hungry. I think it’s best if William and I head back to Skinners. See if we can help over there.”

           Scully walked with them to the car. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

           Mulder smiled. “Of course. I think your brother likes me now.”

           “I think he tolerates you, Mulder.”

           William shoved his hands in his pockets. “I think I need to go back now.”

           Scully gasped. “Oh. So soon.”

           “I’ve been here longer than I should have. I need to leave.”

           “I feel like I’m always saying goodbye to my children,” Scully said, a single tear tracking down her cheek. “Please tell me there’s a future me who gets to be a mother.” Her voice was the merest of whispers.

           Mulder swallowed back his own tears and looked to the stars above.

           “Time will tell,” William said, touching her forearm gently.

           She choked out a sob and dissolved into Mulder’s arms.

 Mulder walked with William into the paddocks, burnt out and smoking still.          “You’re convinced that you’ve ended Spender’s mission?”

           William shrugged. “I couldn’t disable the craft with the virus, but the fire was so intense I’m hopeful there was nothing left. Spender is dead.”

           “But from what I learned in the future, he’s come back from the dead before.”

           William nodded. “He’s worse than a feral cat.”

           “And you’re really going to destroy this technology? Is that really an option?”

           “It’s agreed. It’s the only way.”

           Mulder chewed on his lip. “And the Scully I met. What will happen to her? Will her Mulder come back?”

           William frowned. “He does come back.”

           “But?”

           “I can’t do this, Dad. I can’t talk about what might happen.”

           “Because it might change the events of the future?”

           “And that would affect my life. As well as hers.”

           “He’s going to leave her again, isn’t he? He leaves her and she has to give you up. That can’t happen. Not to her. Not to Scully. Please, we can stop this.”

           William turned to walk away. “I’ve got to go.”

           “Take me with you.”

           “I can’t, Dad. You know that.” He started to walk down the slope away from Mulder. “I’ve got to go now.”

           “Take me there and I can convince her not to let him go. Please.”

           William ran further into the darkness. Mulder chased, stumbling down the scorched hill. As William turned to activate his device, Mulder launched himself towards his son. The night turned white and he heard himself calling for Scully.

           His head throbbed, his throat scratched, his body trembled. He opened his eyes, looked at the stars above him, the Southern Cross blinking behind soft clouds. With a groan he realised he was still in Tarra Warra.

           “Please forgive me, Scully. For whatever it is I do.”

           “Hello? Mulder?”

“Scully?”

“Yes, I see you. Are you all right? I saw the lights.”

“He’s gone.”

She knelt by his side. “I know. I felt it.”

He pulled her closer, dropping a kiss on her head. “I asked him to take me back with him.”

“Why?” she gasped.

“To right some future wrongs.”

“Mulder, you said yourself that we are soul mates. Whatever it is you think you do, I forgive you. Now and in the future.”

He breathed her in. “How could I leave you? How could I ever leave you?” He kissed her, softly at first. She moved in towards him, opening her mouth, letting him in. Letting him love her.            

 William Charles Mulder was born on a starry night at the Scully property. Mulder sat next to Scully on the verandah as she nursed their son. Missy lay at her feet. William opened his eyes.

           “He’s wise beyond his years,” she said, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

           Mulder nodded, gazing at his cherubic face. “And we’ll keep him safe.”

           “In this life, we will.”

           “In all lives, Scully.”

           “You sound so sure, Mulder. But that story he told us…about the adoption.”

           Mulder crooked his finger under her chin and turned her face to him. “I went back with William.”

           “What?”

           “I went back and I convinced you to never let me leave you and William, whatever the circumstances.”

           “You changed our future?”

           “I hope so.”

           She let the tears track down her face and lay her head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

           He nodded, and looked up to the stars twinkling under a wide sky.