#they’ve done plenty of crossovers that turned out good so i’m sure it’ll also be good

[0vergrowngraveyard]

They're doing a crossover. Thoughts? What do you think it is?

honestly i have no thoughts about this agdhshhdsjs

if this is true, cool

[gretchensinister]

An Archer, Of Course, Is Familiar With Loopholes

Right after TMA 173, Martin and Jon encounter two beings, neither people nor avatars, who’ve decided to take care of at least one part of the general awfulness that’s going on. Cameo by Helen. This IS a crossover and if you know me it probably IS what you expect.

***

The incident occurs shortly before Martin and Jon leave the domain of the Dark. They haven’t seen anyone for a while, nor anything that might have been anyone under better circumstances. But then, suddenly, they do. There wasn’t anything for the pair to have walked out from behind, no feature of the landscape that would have allowed it, but, well...it is dark. Though one of the pair is, in fact, shining, and it seems logical that they would have been visible from quite a long way off.

Oh well, stranger things, and all that. But the one that’s shining seems very much as though they shouldn’t be allowed, here. Their companion, on the other hand, seems as though they should be blending into the landscape, but they aren’t. There’s something not allowed about them, too, though they’re even darker than...well...the Dark.

Martin narrows his eyes, trying to make sense of them on his own, first. He doesn’t come up with anything. “Jon? Are those people, or what, that we’re approaching?”

“Not people,” Jon replies at once. “They’re—” He groans and presses his hands to the sides of his head. “Not avatars, either, but it’s—very difficult to explain.”

Martin is about to ask another question when the other pair gets within earshot...or something.

Was this what you were going for, though? If it was, I should have hit you harder.

The voice is soundless, manifesting directly in his brain, and that should be disturbing, like so much else about the world now, but instead it makes him...sleepy? He hasn’t needed to sleep since before, and now...this is real sleepiness. A real human sensation. It feels bizarrely good to have a normal human need again. He yawns hugely, and the shining figure (who he can now see is very short) gives him a dazzling smile. But no, not a human smile.

“You should have hit me harder anyway; I murdered you,” the dark one (the much taller one) says, and they sound so normal (aside from what they’re saying) Martin almost wants to laugh. “And no? I mean, this is all…” They take a deep breath and roll their shoulders. “I mean, I can’t deny that whatever we’re going to do here, it’s going to be very easy for me. I’m not going to have any power problems. But I do have standards! This isn’t really fun. And I respect blankets. It’s bad form, otherwise. So. No. I admit. No. Because I have standards.”

Anything else? The bright one gives him a cheeky grin.

“And because I have you, my dearest opposing cosmic force.”

They’re only a few meters away from Martin and Jon now, and when Martin looks over at Jon, he looks like he’s having the world’s worst headache. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t hold anything back about the question, and Martin feels the wake of it, wants to start explaining his part in this quest from the point he decided to lie on his CV. Only with effort does he manage to keep himself quiet, but even the effort doesn’t distract him from the little secret (as secret as anything can be, considering) thrill that always runs through him when Jon doesn’t hold himself in check, when he realizes how careful Jon is being at all other times. But the pair—the couple—sure, why not, stranger things, etc.—don’t react at all. As if they were simply unavailable to Jon’s power. When they do answer, it’s as if they’re people answering the question of an ordinary person.

Curiously, this doesn’t bring Martin any fear.

We just wanted to make sure you weren’t us, the bright one says. Certain parallels, certain depictions, the world full of fear—we had to check; it’s important to keep track of these things. I suppose there’s probably an us here, but they’re not you. They turn and looks up at the dark one. But also—well, you can explain this part, Pitch.

The dark one—Pitch—rolls their eyes. “Very well. I suppose I can’t worry about my reputation when I’m not even supposed to be here. Anyway. When we came here we could tell what was going on with the kids, and…yes, even from my perspective it’s not right, it’s no way to live. It’s all…too real. So I’m going to get them all out of here.” They put air quotes around the word “get.” “I’m the expert in that, you could say. And I will return them when they won’t be coming back to this.” They gesture around.  “When they come back maybe more of them will even stay put after being tucked in, eat their vegetables, etc. Though it’ll be somewhat complicated to teach anything after getting so many. Then again, it does feel like I’m a battery being charged by a supernova while I’m here, so. Maybe I will be able to do it.”

“Who are you?” Jon asks, and Martin now has the feeling that Jon isn’t being careful right now because he can’t, as if the presence of these two beings is like putting a powerful magnet next to some complex piece of electronics, making it go haywire. And this isn’t even going into any of the things they’ve said.

“I don’t actually have to answer that question, even when you do…whatever it is that you do,” Pitch says. They shrug. “I can’t actually tell what it is. So, as much as I love attention…I wonder, is it refreshing, to have someone just say no, when you ask something? Or does it make you…nervous?” They laugh. “I can’t tell, myself. Ordinarily I’d be able to. Turnabout is fair play, I guess. Anyway, we’re taking the children.”

Martin finally finds his voice. “How do we know where you’re taking them won’t be worse? To know all the kids would be…okay, for the duration…sorry, but it’s hard to trust that much of an improvement in things.”

Pitch turns to him. “Let me put it this way. I’m just as aware as your partner of what this world’s children are experiencing right now, and I have tens of thousands of years more existence-experience to understand it. Coming with me will be a distinct change in circumstances for all of them, and that change, by definition, is going to be an improvement.” They sigh. “Look, my place is mostly a horrible cave, but it’s got plenty of room and I can mold it into something livable fairly easily. The children won’t even have nightmares every time they sleep because my better half won’t allow it.”

Now, now, we can’t think of ourselves as two halves of one being, the bright one says. It makes the other Guardians more nervous than anything else we do.

“Guardians,” Jon mutters. “When I spoke with Gerry, he explained—was he wrong? Please answer, I—”

I’m sorry, the bright one says in their minds. Not in this world. Not in the same way. At least…no, I don’t know, I can’t tell. But there are more things possible than you understand. After all, Pitch and I were human once, too.

“And now look at you! Not even bothering with ear holes, or human proportions, or, well, a lot of human things, really.”

Helen is not really a surprise at this point, Martin decides.

Helen!

Though maybe the little bright one knowing her is, he amends.

“How did we manage to run into someone you already know here?” Pitch asks, sounding for all the world like a long-suffering introvert with an extrovert spouse.

Oh, you know, gold and yellow, dreams and madness. Dreamland has a lot of interesting neighbors.

On one level, Martin knows this could be important. If the new beings—and even Helen, really—keep talking, he and Jon might gain some more insight about the apocalypse. But Jon looks worse than ever, and since Helen is asking the beings why they didn’t bring her any sand, of all things, he’d really prefer this little tête-à-tête to wrap up tout suite. “We’re done here,” he interrupts, as forcefully as he can. Which he knows isn’t very, but…somehow it works this time. He wraps a supportive arm around Jon’s waist. “Look,” he says to the two beings. “I know I don’t understand all this, but you need to leave. I guess I believe you about the kids, that it really…couldn’t be worse. So…yeah. Don’t bring them back until it’s better.”

They both nod, and then the little one takes a sudden step towards him and Jon. “No, Sandy,” Pitch says, grabbing their shoulder. “You can’t touch them. If it did anything—you can tell it’s not allowed.”

Sandy (apparently) closes their eyes and sighs soundlessly. I know. It has to play out first. But it looks so unbalanced right now. They open their eyes and glance up to Pitch before fixing their gaze on Martin and Jon in turn. And yet. I wish you well.

“Well. Thanks,” says Martin. “But if that was the thing you do, I couldn’t feel it do anything.”

I guess I should’ve expected that.

“Come on, Sandy,” Pitch says. “Let’s get the kids.”

They walk deeper into The Dark, with nothing more said to Martin and Jon. Sandy doesn’t dim at all, despite what they’re going into, and Martin wonders a little bit more about what kind of powers he and Jon just couldn’t feel. Helen and her door goes with them, and Martin hears her say one last thing before the distance grows too much: “I won’t tell you not to worry, but Martin is one to watch, you know?” Whatever that means. At least Jon is able to support more of his own weight now, and seems less likely to have his head explode.

“Let’s start putting some distance between us and them,” Jon says, though he’s not yet standing on his own. “It wouldn’t matter, usually, but…I don’t want to know what they’re doing, and I think I can manage that the farther we are from them.”

“All right,” Martin says.

After a few minutes of walking (stumbling forward) and thinking, Martin muses aloud: “The way Pitch said ‘get,’ talking about nightmares, about kids staying tucked in, etc…like, were they just your bog-standard childhood boog—”

“Don’t say it,” Jon says. “I think I can forget that encounter and for the kids…I need to. We can’t talk about it. I can’t think about the potential existence of any other…kinder…world. Where they’d be the only one ever grabbing at anyone’s ankles from under the bed.”

“So we just assume that the situation with the kids is the same as how we left them,” Martin says.

“You can feel how easy it is to remember things that way,” Jon says. “If you let it happen.”

“Just tape over the last half hour?”

“Hah,” Jon says. “Exactly.”

[duhragonball]

Review: Unabridged Episode 1

I can’t remember how long it’s been since I last wrote about Team Four Star, but the short version is that they officially ended Dragon Ball Z Abridged, a little over a year after the final episode was published.   At one time, they seemed to think they could tackle the Buu Saga, but eventually it became clear that creative burnout was just too big a hurdle to overcome.   More importantly, they’d have to end DBZA eventually whether they finished the Buu Saga or not.    Somewhere along the way, TFS decided to focus on their future, which lay in producing original content.     There have been earlier examples of this, but I think it’s safe to say Unabridged is their flagship for 2020.  

I’d like to compare Team Four Star to some other media entity, but I can’t think of anything that fits.    In a way, they’re kind of victims of their own success.   They got tons of fans thanks to DBZA, and they managed to make enough money to turn their fan production into an actual business, but they can’t monetize DBZA, since they don’t own the source material.    So the trick is to somehow convince that audience to stick around for their other acts.    And those acts really can’t have anything to do with DBZ.    What else does that audience want?    Well, hopefully, a pastiche of The Office, because that’s what we’re getting. 

Unabridged is a mockumentary set in the offices of Team Four Star.    Stephan Kosecz plays... Stephan Kosecz, their newest hire, who is immediately disturbed by the camera crew filming his experience.   He meets the other members of the team, and they’re all outrageous characters.   Scott Frerichs is drunk on the job, Nick Landis is mercurial and disconnected from reality, Chris Zito is some kind of deranged lunatic, and so on.   

It’s soon revealed that Nick hired a camera crew to film a docuseries about them, and he paid them in advance, so they’re stuck with it whether they like it or not.    Scott pleads for the team to make a good impression, which leads Grant Smith and Kirran Somerlade to brainstorm ways to be impressive.  They settle on taking a picture of themselves and then going around asking people if they like it.    Stephan considers quitting on his first day, but changes his mind after he sees how grateful Grant and Kirran are for his support.  

I think the idea here is that this is supposed to be the Office turned up to eleven.    Zito is way crazier than Dwight Schrute, Nick is far more self-absorbed than Michael Scott, and Stephan is more over this than Jim Halpert.    And it fits for the style of comedy that TFS is known for.   The gags work, and there’s plenty more that can be done with the characters in future episodes.    It’s a solid way to kill sixteen minutes while I eat a meal, and that’s basically all I ask from a YouTube channel.  

But the bigger question, I think, is whether this series accomplishes what TFS needs for their future.    It’s certainly a good start.    From what I understand, they plan to release subsequent episodes on a weekly schedule, which is a welcome change from the chaotic timetables of their past few years.   Since about 2017, the unofficial slogan of TFS seems to have been “We’re working on a lot of cool stuff for you guys, and we can’t wait to show it to you!”   There’s been a lot of overpromising and underdelivering with TFS.    I feel a little guilty saying that, but they’ve admitted it themselves, so I think it’s a fair statement.   “Hey, we’re working on this, whoops that’s taking longer than we thought it would, it’ll have to be postponed, hey, sorry gang it’s taking even longer than we thought aaaand now we’re not doing the thing at all, so we can focus on this other thing that starts the whole cycle over again.”    That’s pretty much been the TFS experience for the last few years.  

The main thrill of Unabridged is that they actually got it done.   I feel like they’ve been hyping this thing forever, and now it’s finally a real video that you can watch instead of wonder about.   From here on, they can proudly state that they’ve made a series that’s completely their own.    No anime footage, no video game footage, No DCMA takedown bullshit.   Just their own guys making their own show that they wrote and produced themselves.   

Having said that, I’m not convinced that this was the project they needed to be investing all this time and energy into.  Maybe there’s a huge crossover between DBZ fans and Office fans.  If so, then they’re smart to take advantage of it.   Otherwise, it looks a lot like they couldn’t figure out anything better and settled on making a show about themselves.   It’s a very recursive concept.   This isn’t Steve Carell playing Michael Scott, a regional manager for a fictional company.    This is Scott Frerichs playing himself in the actual TFS building that he’s really the CEO of.   The implication here is that he’s doing a character, but it’s probably an exaggeration of the real person, maybe?   I don’t think KaiserNeko is drunk all the time, but it’s not like I know the guy.  

I don’t mean to be a killjoy, but I find the whole concept kind of irritating.   TFS is a real-world business that's producing a show about a fictionalized version of itself... making... a documentary about... itself.   This is navel-gazing, right?   I’m pretty sure that’s what this is.  

Let me put it like this.    Stan Lee and Jack Kirby created the Fantastic Four.   It was a big hit, and they occasionally appeared in their own comics as sort of a side gag.    Now, imagine if, for whatever reason, Stan and Jack couldn’t do Marvel Superheroes anymore, and they had to make a comic about something else instead, so they decided to just make a comic book about themselves just sort of hanging out.   In the late 60′s, there might have been an audience loyal enough to their past work that they’d stick around for that.    Hell, Lee and Kirby could probably even find a way to make it successful, but they’d probably also be savvy enough to find a stronger idea. 

That’s kind of where TFS is these days, and I don’t know what the solution is, but I don’t think it lies in filming themselves bantering back and forth.   These days that’s all they make anymore.   There’s the TalkCast PodShow, where you can listen to them talk about whether they liked the Sonic the Hedgehog movie, or DBCember, where you can listen to them talk about whether the Fusion Technique is cooler than the Special Beam Cannon.   I’m just having trouble seeing the point of Unabridged.    Like, this is the one where Grant and Kirran goof around on camera, as opposed to the Pokemon Nuzlocke videos, where they goof around on camera and also a game of Pokemon is happening.

Personally, I think the future of TFS lies more in the direction of shows like Fist Master, which represents TFS’ first foray into original animation.    The first episode looks a little rough, like a NewGrounds video from 2006, but that’s not the point.    It’s a fantasy action story with super powers and larger-than-life characters, featuring a lot of the same voice actors from other TFS projects.    Sound familiar?    The problem with Fist Master is that the first episode came out like 18 months ago, and maybe we’ll get to see Episode 2 sometime in 2020.    That’s not exactly a winning formula.   

Nonetheless, I feel like that’s the sort of basket TFS needs to be putting more eggs into.    If Fist Master is too complex to produce on a monthly basis, then maybe get some artists to make some simpler assets and do something with a lot more talking, and all the action happens off-screen.    Kind of like Sealab 2021.    Or hell, just do some audio-only sketches.   I feel like the big disconnect here is that TFS’s biggest asset is its voice acting talent, and yet they keep killing themselves trying to make video.    Meanwhile I’m one of these guys who wishes the YouTube app would play while the screen is off, because I just want stuff to listen to while I’m at work.    If they did an audio-only show about TJ and the Wombat, I’d be lining up to hear it.  

All that said, Unabridged looks like it got about 110,000 views in the past 12 hours, and that sounds like a big enough number to justify the hype, so maybe it’s a better idea than I’m giving it credit for.    It doesn’t have to be all things to all people, just so long as it keeps TFS afloat long enough for them to find their footing for their next project, and the next one after that.  

[myownsuperintendent]

New Fic: “Take Me to Your Leader” (Part Two)

It’s 2037, and Leslie Knope has just been sworn in as President of the United States, only to find her inaugural address followed by an alien invasion.  For help, she and Ben call on two experts–retired FBI agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully–and the four team up to defeat the alien threat.  Parks and Recreation/The X-Files crossover, rated T.  Also here at Ao3.

This is my first crossover, my first Parks and Recreation fic, and one of my longest fics ever, and it’s been a lot of fun to write!  Tons of thanks to @emilysim for giving me the idea to focus on the colonization–you are the best and pushed me to actually write this.  Also tagging @how-i-met-your-mulder and @xv12 who have been very supportive of this story.

I’m splitting this into two posts because it’s long.  Part One is here.

.....

Scully climbed out of the car as soon as Mulder stopped it, hurrying to hug her son.  “Jackson!” she said.  “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I’m glad you guys are okay too,” he said, hugging her back.  He hugged Mulder too, once he got out of the car.  “And the kid?”

“She’s safe.  She’s at the White House,” Scully said.  “What are you doing here?  Why were you in a hole in the ground?”

“Oh, this is our secure space,” Jackson said.  “We’ve been working on it for a while.  In case something like this happened.”  The woman who’d appeared along with him came forward then, and Jackson took her hand.  “This is Marina.  I’ve told you about Marina, right?”

Scully had known that there was such a person as Marina, and that she was Jackson’s girlfriend, but that was about all she could say.   “Sure,” she said.  “It’s nice to meet you, Marina.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Marina said.  “Jackson’s told me a lot about you both.”  She looked around.  “We should probably get back underground right now.  We don’t know who could be coming, and the car’s not exactly unobtrusive.”

“We can’t stay very long,” Mulder said, even as the four of them started following Jackson and Marina back towards the hole.  “We’re on our way to Lake Michigan.  To try to develop a vaccine.”

“Just until the area clears out,” Jackson said.  “They won’t stay in one place too long.  Why’d you bring the president?”

“Well, we’re working together,” Scully said.  “Skinner told her about us, and she called us in for help.”

“Maybe the government’s dealing with this better than we thought they would,” Jackson said, grinning at her.

The hole had a ladder leaning down into it, and all of them climbed in quickly.  Scully didn’t know what she’d expected to find inside, but it certainly wasn’t what she saw, which was some odd combination of studio apartment (well-furnished living area), 1950s bomb shelter (large amount of canned food), and laboratory (set-up of advanced computers). Marina, the last down the ladder, pressed a button, and a cover slid into place over the hole.  “Welcome,” she said.

“This place is…” Scully said.  She wasn’t sure what to say.

“We’ve been working on it for a while,” Jackson said.  “I know it’s seemed safe, these past years, but with everything that happened before…I mean, you never know, right?  You guys get it.”

“You’ve done a good job,” Mulder said, looking around approvingly.   “I think he’s our kid, Scully.”  She could have rolled her eyes, but she just laughed, out of relief or surprise or adrenaline or a mix of them all.

“Really, Marina should get most of the credit,” Jackson said, putting his arm around her.

“We both had the idea,” Marina said.

“But you’re the one who really figured out how to do it,” Jackson said.  “She’s a lot more organized than I am.  Doesn’t take much.”  She grinned at him.

“Whoever put that food area together did a great job,” Leslie said, wandering back from examining the shelves.  “It’s a good selection.   Very nutritionally sound.  And there are good breakfast options.”  She held out a hand to Jackson.  “Hi.  I’m Leslie Knope.”

“Yeah, we got that,” Jackson said, shaking her hand.  “I’m Jackson.  Nice to meet you.”

“You too!” Leslie said, beaming.  “You’re Mulder and Scully’s son?”

“Yeah, basically,” Jackson said.  “Anyway, you should all feel free to crash here for a little bit.  We’ve got plenty of food.”

“And we’ve been tracking the aliens,” Marina said, gesturing to the computer, “and it’s like Jackson said.  They don’t stay in one place that long.  They tend to move on once they’ve…well, once enough people in the area are infected.  So you should be able to move on by the morning, anyway.  And we can help you figure out the best route to avoid them.”

“Thank you for this,” Leslie said.  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“It’s fine, really,” Jackson said.

As they settled in, exploring the shelter, Scully joined Marina, who was looking at something on the computer.  “This really is an incredible space,” she said.

“Thanks,” Marina said.  “We’ve worked hard on it.”

“Jackson hasn’t told us that much about you,” Scully said.  She felt she should try to get to know Marina, even if this was an odd situation to do it in.  “How did the two of you meet?”

“Oh, we met online,” Marina said.

“On a dating site?” Scully asked.  That didn’t really seem like Jackson’s thing.

“No, on a site for people who’ve had personal experience with the paranormal,” Marina said.  That made a lot more sense.  “We’d had some similar experiences, so we started talking.  Then we met up and…well, here we are.”

“How long have you been working on this place?” Scully asked.

“A couple of years,” Marina said.

Scully sighed.  “Jackson,” she called across the space, “why don’t you tell me and Mulder anything?”

“I tell you lots of things,” Jackson said.  “What things don’t I tell you?”

“Well, Marina tells me you’ve been together for some years now,” Scully said, “and you’ve barely told us anything about her.”

“I guess I forgot.”

“Flattering,” Marina said.

“Well, I figured you guys would meet sometime,” Jackson said, “and then Marina could tell you herself.  Like she’s doing, apparently.”  He turned back to showing Mulder some sort of water-filtration device.   Leslie and Ben were examining the canned food again.

“So…well, where are you from?” Scully asked.  She wished she could think of something less banal.

“Near LA, originally,” Marina said.  Then she smiled.  “Look, we could just talk about the aliens.  I know it’s what we’re both thinking about.”

Scully smiled back.  “Sure, we could do that.  You said you’re tracking them?”

“Yes,” Marina said, opening a page on the computer screen.  “I’ve got a system of alerts set up, for whenever they’re seen somewhere—so long as people report it, which they usually do, online or wherever.  And then it follows their progress.  It’s not as good as I would like it to be—I wish we could have some actual surveillance—but it’ll do for now.”

“No, this is great,” Scully said, looking at the computer.  “It’s going to be really helpful.”

“And we’ve got it so people can view it online,” Marina said.  “Hopefully it’ll keep some people safe, anyway.”

“What made you…how did you learn about the aliens?” Scully asked.  “If I can ask.”

“Sure, you can ask,” Marina said.  “I’m…well, I don’t know all the details, even though I’ve looked into it as much as I can.  But as far as I know, my biological mother, she was an abductee.  And I’m from one of the hybridization programs.  The one from the 90s.  So I’m…well…”   She flicked her ponytail to the side, briefly, and Scully caught a glimpse of a green blister on her neck.  “Well, I was always different. And I got curious about it and started looking into everything.”

Like Emily, then.  She didn’t know why this should surprise her, that Emily hadn’t been one of a kind.  Scully didn’t know how to feel; there was still anger, still sadness, when she thought about what had been done to her and to so many others.  But right now, looking at Marina, in this space that she had made with Scully’s son, there was a strange kind of joy too.

She hugged Marina, impulsively, and smiled sheepishly at the younger woman’s questioning look.  “Just glad we’re safe for now,” she said.

“Yeah,” Marina said, “me too.”

Jackson and Mulder came up to them then.  “Marina showed you the tracking system?” Jackson asked.

“Yes,” said Scully.  “It’s very impressive.”

“I think it should be all right by the morning,” Marina said, showing him something on the screen, “but they’re still around the local roads.  See?”

“Oh yeah,” Jackson said.  “You guys can stay here tonight.  You too,” he called to Leslie and Ben, who came over to look at the computer too.

“Thanks,” Leslie said.  “We’re sorry to trespass on your space.   You’re welcome to visit us, though.  Once this situation is more under control.”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” Jackson said.  “I always wanted to visit the White House.  Not the tourist parts.  So I could look for Lincoln’s ghost.  Have you seen him?”

“We just got there last week, so not yet,” Leslie said.  “But I bet we will.”

“I didn’t think he appeared to people,” Ben said.  “Just caused weird manifestations.  Didn’t Eleanor Roosevelt say Fala would bark at him?”

“Yes, she did,” Leslie said.  “I don’t know if he appears to a lot of people.  But I think he’ll appear to me, eventually.  At least by my second term.”

This led into a more general discussion of ghosts, which seemed to be a topic that interested everyone.  Maybe it was just that they didn’t want to talk about what was going on outside.  Even Scully found herself joining in.  It was easier to think about a threat that wasn’t real than a threat that very much was.

They broke into the canned food for dinner and by common consent decided to get to sleep early.  Jackson and Marina had a lot of sleeping bags and extra blankets, and they settled down throughout the hideout, saying good night in quiet voices.

Scully wanted to sleep, but it wasn’t happening.  She shifted in her sleeping bag next to Mulder.  “Are you asleep?” she whispered.  She was pretty sure he wasn’t, from his breathing.

“Nope,” he whispered back.  “You either?”

“I can’t,” she said.  “This is all so weird.”

“Tell me about it.”  He moved closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist, comfortably.  That felt familiar, at least, even if the rest of this didn’t.  No, that wasn’t right.  It wasn’t that the situation felt entirely unfamiliar.  It felt all too familiar in some ways, a past she thought they’d shed.

“I thought we were done with this,” she told him.  “I thought we were finally done.”

“I know, Scully,” he said.  “I thought so too.”  They hadn’t had a chance to talk about this yet, with everything that had been happening. Of course, they’d barely had a chance to sleep either, and maybe they should be concentrating on that.  But right now, talking to him felt more important.

“And then…I didn’t know about all this,” Scully said.  “That Jackson had this whole place.  I had no idea.”

“Apparently paranoia doesn’t skip a generation,” Mulder said.

“Well, apparently it’s not paranoia, either,” she said.  “I’m kind of proud of him, actually.  Weirdly.  They’ve done a good job here.”

“They have,” Mulder said.  “We have a good kid, Scully.  Two good kids.”

She nodded.  “I hope Susanna’s…I hope she’s holding up okay.”

“She will be,” Mulder said, although she could tell from his voice that he was worried too, that he didn’t like being away from their daughter at a time like this.  “She’s strong.  Like her mom.”  He nuzzled her hair, and she pressed her cheek to his.  “Plus she’s got Pip.”

Scully smiled.  “That’s not nothing.”  They were quiet for a minute.  “Do you really think we’ll be able to stop this?”

“We have to,” he said.  That wasn’t really an answer to her question, but she knew he was right.

She squeezed his hand, under the blankets.  “We’re…we’re as prepared for this as anyone could be,” she said.  “That has to count for something, right?”

“Right,” Mulder said.

“We should try to get some sleep,” Scully said, half reluctantly.  “That can’t hurt either.”

“Right again,” Mulder said, and they huddled against each other and tried to rest.

.....

“Ben, are you asleep?” Leslie asked.  She tried to keep her voice down.  This underground hideout wasn’t especially large, and they were sharing it with people they hadn’t known all that long, so she thought it was important to be courteous.

“No,” Ben said.  “I can’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” Leslie said.  “You want to talk for a while?”

“Sure,” he said.  “What about?”  The light was very dim, but she could see his face looking up at her, sweet, sincere.  She thought about how much she loved him, not for the first time.  Alien invasions had a way of making you take stock.

“I’m kind of mad about this happening on my first day,” she said.  “I hope that doesn’t make me sound shallow.  It’s true, though.”

“No, you have the right to be mad,” Ben said.  “You didn’t sign up for this.”

“Well, I did,” Leslie said.  “That’s what happened when I took the oath of office.  I signed up for whatever was coming.  I just didn’t think it would be this big this soon.  And this…paranormal.”

“I don’t think anyone thought that,” Ben said.  “It’s not really something you could anticipate.”

“You did tell me that I had to fill you in if they briefed me on the aliens,” Leslie pointed out.

“True,” Ben said.  “Maybe I’m psychic.”

“It wouldn’t be the strangest thing that’s happened in the last few days,” Leslie said.  “It would be cool if you were psychic.  You could tell me what was going to happen on Game of Thrones.”

“No one can do that,” Ben said.  “Now that it’s so different from the books…”

“Good point,” Leslie said.  “Well, you could tell me how all this was going to turn out, then.  With the aliens.  If I’d be remembered as the president who presided over the demise of the human race.”  She didn’t want that, and not just because of concerns about her legacy.  She’d gone into government because she wanted to help people.  She didn’t want to think that this might be a situation where she couldn’t do that.

“You won’t,” Ben said.  “I know it.”

“How do you know?” Leslie asked.  “You’re not really psychic, are you?”

“For a couple reasons,” Ben said.  “First of all, there’s that thing they say.  About times getting the leaders they need.  This is a time that needs a great leader, and I think we’ve got one.”  He smiled at her, and she smiled back, sliding closer to him in their sleeping bags. “And whatever kind of time it is, you’re Leslie Knope.  You never met a crisis you couldn’t solve.”

“I never met a crisis this big,” Leslie said.

“How different can it be,” Ben asked, “from an unruly town meeting?   It’s just a lot of…beings…causing a ruckus because they can’t get what they want.”

She laughed.  “You’ve always been so excited about aliens and things.  And now you’re saying they’re no different from what we’re used to.”

“I guess I didn’t know what they’d be like,” Ben said, more soberly. “I’d just as soon do without them, now.  Not that some of it isn’t interesting.  Those stories Mulder was telling, when we were driving.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “I gathered you were interested.”

“Well, it seems like the two of them know what to do,” Ben said.  “It’s good we found them.”

“And we’ll figure out what to do too,” Leslie said.  “The two of us.  I’m glad we’ve got your brains, Ben.  And your butt.”

“And my butt,” he said, smiling sleepily as she wrapped an arm around him, and she held him close until they both fell asleep.

They were up early in the morning, eating pre-packaged breakfast food;  it was a pale imitation of the real thing, but it was still better than nothing.  They took a plan for their route with them, based on Jackson and Marina’s tracking system.  Hopefully they’d be able to avoid aliens on the road.

Leslie studied the plan as they started driving.  “Hey,” she said.  “We go right by Pawnee with this.”

“That’s where you’re from?” Scully asked.

“Lived there all my life,” Leslie said.  “It’s the best town in the US.  You’d love it.  Have you spent any time in Indiana?”

“There were a couple of cases,” Scully said.

“That Cher concert,” Mulder said; he smiled at Scully, and she smiled back.  Leslie waited, but they didn’t seem inclined to elaborate.

“Should we stop off when we get there?” Leslie asked.

“It might be good to get the rest,” Ben said.

“I don’t mean we should stop for too long or anything,” Leslie said.  “Just to eat and stretch our legs.”

“Sounds good to me,” Mulder said.  “Scully?”

“Sure, we could do that,” she said.

“Great!” Leslie said.  She didn’t want to delay their mission, but she liked the thought of stopping in Pawnee more than she could say.   Going home…it would be something familiar in the midst of all that was so confusing and scary.

Of course, it might not be that familiar at this point.  The aliens might have been there already, in which case things would probably have changed.  And they’d probably changed the town motto to “Welcome, aliens!” by now.

Still, she liked the idea of showing her town to people.  When they finally drove in (they had, in fact, changed the motto to “Welcome, aliens!”, although the sign declaring it was still a mostly-cardboard work in progress), she pointed things out to Mulder and Scully.  “That’s Pawnee Commons,” she said.  “It’s a park I built.  And those people sitting on the grass are the Reasonablists.  They’re a cult that worships Zorp.”

“Zorp?” Scully asked.

“He’s a twenty-eight foot tall lizard alien,” Leslie said.  “He’s going to come and bring about the end of the world.”

“And melt people’s faces off, I think?” Ben added.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Leslie said.  “And they like to play wooden flutes.”

“This is fascinating,” Mulder said.  “Do you know how they developed this belief?”

“Yes, someone wrote a book about it and it caught on,” Leslie said.   “There used to be a lot of them.  They even took over the city for a couple of years in the 1970s.  But now they’re not as active.  They’re probably out today because of the invasion.”

“When we have a little more free time,” Mulder said, “I want to hear everything about this.  This is one of the weirdest cults I’ve ever heard about.  And I’ve encountered a lot of weird cults.”

“At least they sound relatively harmless,” Scully said.  “Right?”

“Yeah, they’re not so bad,” Leslie said.  “Just careless with the Port-a-Potties.”  She pointed out the window again.  “That’s Ron’s house.  We worked together for a long time.  He’s one of my best friends.”  She looked at the others.  “Maybe we could stop just for a minute?  To see how he’s doing?”  If there was anyone who’d be going on just as before, she thought, Ron would.  But she still wanted to see.

They pulled up in front of the house and got out of the car.  Leslie knocked on the door.  She knocked again.  And again.  But nobody answered.

Ben put an arm around her.  “They’ve probably gone for cover somewhere,” he said.  “Somewhere that’ll be safe.  You know how Ron is.”

“I know,” Leslie said, and she did.  Most of her believed that Ron was alright.  She hadn’t realized, though, how much she’d wanted to see him and to talk to him, to get the kind of advice that only he could give.  “I’m going to leave him a note,” she said, “for when he gets back.”

She had a notebook with her, and she wrote her note quickly.  Dear Ron, It’s Leslie.  We came through here on our way to try to stop the aliens.  Ben says you’ve probably taken cover somewhere safe, and I’m sure he’s right.  I wish I could have seen you, though.  We’ll have to see each other once the aliens are gone.  Love, Leslie.  She tore it out of the notebook and slid it under the front door.  “All right, I’m ready,” she said.  “We should keep going.  I know where we can go.”

Despite her words, Leslie was a bit nervous as she knocked on the door; she didn’t know what could have happened, and she didn’t want to face the thought of another friend gone who knows where.  But the door opened quickly.  “Leslie!  And Ben!  Oh, I’m so happy to see you guys!”

“We’re so happy to see you too,” Leslie said, returning Jerry’s hug. She really was, too.  Happier than she could have imagined being.   Another strange thing about the last couple of days.

“What Leslie said,” Ben added, hugging him in turn.  “You and Gayle are safe?”

“Oh, yeah, perfectly safe,” Jerry said.  “We watched the inauguration, Leslie.  Your speech was great!”

“You really thought so?  Thank you!” Leslie said.  “I didn’t think anyone would remember it by this point.  Because of the alien invasion.”

“Oh, no one paid any attention to that,” Jerry said.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“I think some people paid attention,” Leslie said.  “They’re kind of trying to colonize us now, actually.  I probably should worry.”

Jerry nodded.  “All right.  Just not too much.  Remember, you’re the president now.”

“That’s exactly why I should worry,” Leslie pointed out, but Jerry was already moving on to other topics.

“You should come inside, all of you.  Are these your secret service agents?” he asked, gesturing towards Mulder and Scully.

“No, these are Fox Mulder and Dana Scully,” Leslie said.  “They’re two former FBI agents who are helping us deal with the aliens.”

“Well, they should certainly come inside, in that case,” said Jerry. “Do you all want anything to eat?  I’ll tell Gayle you’re here.”   He ushered them into the living room.

Jerry returned with Gayle; Leslie could tell Ben was about to start muttering his astonishment at how the two of them had possibly gotten married.  She nudged him with her elbow, sternly.  “It’s great to see you, Gayle,” she said.  “You’re doing okay?”

“Well, the circumstances could be better, of course,” said Gayle.  “But we’re together and that’s all that matters.”

“Has there been any alien activity around here?” Mulder asked.

“Not yet,” Gayle said.  “At least not that we’ve noticed.”  Leslie wasn’t surprised.  If the aliens had been in Pawnee, Jerry would surely have been the first person to get abducted.  She meant it in the nicest possible way, but it was true.  “But we’ve been keeping up with everything on the news,” Gayle said.  “Do you want to watch?”

“Sure,” Leslie said.  She’d been checking in with her advisors on her phone, but it would be good for her to see some footage of what they were dealing with.

They sat down, and Gayle switched the news on.  “…Now, the story of this oil is, it’s black.”

It was good to be home.

.....

It was afternoon when they left the house to drive on towards Lake Michigan.  Mulder had been glad of the rest, and Jerry and Gayle had been very hospitable to them, even if he hadn’t found the local news particularly informative.  At least it seemed like there weren’t aliens in the area, which was something.  They couldn’t be sure what lay ahead, but they could only hope.

Leslie was taking her turn at the wheel now, and Mulder was in the backseat with Scully.  “I never expected to get driven around by a president,” he murmured to her.

She smiled, a little sleepily.  “Me neither.  But it’s not bad.”

“You tired, honey?” he asked her.

“A little.”

“You should sleep then,” he said.  “We’ll need you firing on all cylinders, when we get there.”

“Okay,” she said.  Their years on the road had served them well in this; they could sleep anywhere now.  She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her.  In just a few minutes, he could tell from her measured breathing that she was asleep.  She’d probably drool on him, not that he minded.  In fact, he minded so little that right now it seemed like one of the things he wanted to fight for: the continuation of a world in which Scully could drool on him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Leslie said softly, from the front seat.  He didn’t realize until she added, “For the two of you.  And for everyone,” that she was addressing him.

“I’ve been trying to tell myself that,” he said; he kept his voice quiet too, not wanting to wake up Scully.  “It’s just that…we’ve been through a lot because of this.  The aliens, I mean, and the people who were working with them.  And we thought it was over.  This time we honestly did.  And I’m not complaining or anything, because I know it’s a lot bigger than just us, and I really—I want to stop this.  But I’m wondering, now, if it’ll ever be over.  I really wanted it to be.”  He didn’t want to get back into this, to go back to the way he’d been in the past—to the things that had hurt him and the people he loved, to the things that had torn him and Scully apart too many times.  He wouldn’t let that happen again—never—but he couldn’t help being afraid of what might become of them.

“I don’t blame you for being upset,” Leslie said.  “I hope you’re not…well, angry that I dragged you into this.”

“No, of course not,” he said.  “I wouldn’t have felt right, just sitting back.  And I know that goes for Scully too.”

“This isn’t something I ever expected to happen,” Leslie said.  “I’ve wanted to be president since I was a kid.  So I could help people.  And I know that…Ben and I were talking, last night, about hard times demanding great leaders.  But I just hope I can be that leader.  Right now, I’m not…I’m not one hundred percent sure.”  She almost laughed.   “Sorry.  I shouldn’t say that.  Not very reassuring.”

“Well, it’s refreshing, anyway,” Mulder said.  “You rarely hear a politician admit they don’t have all the answers.”  She was silent, and he went on.  “And it’s pretty unusual, too, for a president to personally drive across the country to defeat aliens.  I’d say you’re doing all right, under the circumstances.”

“Thanks,” Leslie said.

“Speaking of driving,” he said, “let me know if you want to switch.”

“I’m still good for now,” Leslie said.  She glanced over towards the passenger seat.  “And Ben and Scully are asleep, anyway.  We might as well let them keep resting.”

“Might as well,” he said, and they sat in silence as they drove on.

He must have dozed off himself; he started awake when the car stopped.  Next to him, Scully murmured, “Mulder…what…where…”

“We’re in the car,” he told her.  “Going to Lake Michigan, remember?  Leslie, why are we stopping?”

“Because we’re here,” Leslie said.  She was shaking Ben awake.

It was dim outside by now, but Mulder saw that she was right; the waters of Lake Michigan gleamed under the last rays of the sun.  “We should start looking,” he said.  “I’ll get the files out.”

“And I’ve got masks,” Scully said.  “We should put them on.  There’s nothing to protect against the oil completely, of course, but it could help.”

“And I’ve got flashlights in the trunk,” Leslie said.  “You shouldn’t go out in the dark without flashlights.”

“We couldn’t agree more,” Scully said.

“Also I have a bag of candy,” Leslie said, handing them the flashlights.  “Should I bring that too?  Or will it attract the aliens?”

“I don’t think aliens are really into candy,” Ben said.  “Or are they?  To be frank, I’m beginning to think that most things I thought I knew about aliens are lies.”

“No, they’re not into candy,” Scully said.  “That part’s not a lie, anyway.”

“I’ll bring it, then,” Leslie said.  “Let’s get going.”

They started walking along the shore, Scully training her flashlight on the files Mulder was carrying.  “We don’t have exact coordinates,” he said, trying to read and walk at the same time.  “Only some landmarks. There were reports of strange things happening next to a certain dock. It’s got a little footbridge leading up to it…and there are sand dunes…”

“That could be a lot of places,” Ben said, gesturing towards the shore.  “Is there anything more specific?”

“I’m checking,” said Mulder.  “Yes.  On one of the dunes there’s a tree that’s bent over.  So it looks like there’s a hole in the trunk.   One of the eyewitnesses…he said he thought it was a bad omen.  We should look for that.”

They moved their flashlights in the dark, scanning the landscape, looking for the tree that was mentioned in the files.  It was just a tree, Mulder knew—in this case, he didn’t really think it was a bad omen—but somehow everything felt more threatening, with the sun almost entirely gone now.  The masks on everyone’s faces didn’t help.

“Is that it?” Ben asked suddenly.  A tree was caught in the beam of his flashlight, a hole in the trunk illuminated.  Mulder squinted into the light; he was about to answer, but Scully spoke first.

“That’s it,” she said, and something in her voice made Mulder look down, into the beam of her own flashlight.  It was trained downwards, and he could see something moving along the ground.  Creeping?  Oozing? The oil, he realized.  The oil.

“Okay,” he said.  “We should…let’s be careful.  Especially the two of you,” he said, gesturing to Leslie and Ben.  “You haven’t been exposed to this before.  Scully, what do you need?”

“I’m going to get a sample,” she said, sliding on rubber gloves, taking a vial from a pocket.  He’d seen her like this a million times.   It had never felt more important.  “You guys just…keep watch for me, okay?”

“Of course,” he said; he saw Leslie and Ben nodding, their faces solemn above their masks in the glare of the flashlights.  He squinted into the dark again.  There was the tree.  There was the shore.  There was Scully, stooping down with her vial.  There was…there was a face looking back at him, coming out of the darkness towards them.  Advancing on Scully.

Mulder moved before he could think about it, running to head the figure off: he wasn’t sure, at this distance, if it was an alien or a human, but he could tell that it meant trouble.  But when it reached out and grabbed for him, he could tell.  An alien, and its grip was strong, forcing him back, and he wasn’t at the right angle, he couldn’t shoot for the back of the neck…He thought he heard Scully calling his name, thought he saw her rising out of the corner of his eye, but the alien was grabbing his neck now and his vision was blurry…

And then it released him, suddenly, falling to the ground.  His eyes were stinging—he knew this feeling, it was what happened when you came in contact with that green blood, and the masks didn’t seem to be doing much to stop it—but he wasn’t choking any more, for which he was grateful.  Next to the fallen alien stood Ben, holding a sharpened stick, wearing an expression that was equal parts proud, stunned, and extremely teary.

“I remembered…what you told us…” he choked out.  “Did I…just kill an alien?”

“Looks like you did,” Mulder said.

“So proud of you, babe,” Leslie said.  She was teary-eyed too, but she managed an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

“Oh my God,” Ben said.  “This really stings.”

“Yeah, we told you about it, right?” Mulder said.  “They have green blood…and they release it, when you kill them.”

“Yeah, you told us,” Ben said.  “But I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“It’s really bad,” Leslie added, nodding.  “But it’s okay.  You killed an alien.  You can tell the kids about it, when we get back.”

The idea seemed to mollify Ben somewhat, despite his continued choking noises, and in a moment Scully stood up.  “I’ve got a sample,” she said.  “And I think we should get out of here.  We’re too exposed, and we don’t know if there are more of them coming…”  She looked over her shoulder.  “Scratch that.  There are.  Let’s run.”

“We shouldn’t…?”  Ben brandished his stick vaguely.

“No,” Scully said.  “We should run.”  Mulder looked towards the trees—it was still dim, but he could see at least five aliens coming, and he took off along with Scully.  Ben seemed to see the wisdom of her words—flight over fight—because he and Leslie were right at their heels.

They used to do this all the time, Mulder remembered, on every case, and he wondered how they had managed it.  For now, the adrenaline was buoying him as he sprinted towards the car, but he knew that he couldn’t keep up this speed forever and that he was definitely going to feel this later.  Fortunately, the car wasn’t very far away; they each dove for the closest door, Ben ending up in the driver’s seat.  “Should I—?”

“Drive!” Scully yelled; she was somewhere on the floor of the backseat at the moment, tangled around Mulder’s legs.  And they sped down the road, not exactly in what Mulder would call a straight line.

“Don’t hit that tree!” Leslie shouted.

“Sorry!”  Ben swerved abruptly, and they all jolted.  That was Scully’s elbow in his eye, Mulder was pretty sure; his face was already swollen, of course, but this really didn’t help.  “I can’t see very well.  My eyes are still stinging.”

Mulder did his best to look out the back window of the car—it was dark, but he thought he could still see movement behind them.  “Well, keep going anyway,” he said.  “Maybe turn somewhere.”

“If there’s an actual turn,” Scully added; she was still half on the floor, and Mulder pulled her up onto the seat.  “No more of these swerves, if possible.”

“I said I was sorry,” Ben said.

“Shit, I dropped the candy,” Leslie said.  “Do you still have the sample?  I hope it didn’t go flying somewhere.  I’d just as soon not go back there, if we can help it.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Scully said, holding out the vial.  “Hold it for me while I do my seatbelt?” she asked Mulder, and he nodded, taking it gingerly.

“So where to now?” Leslie asked.  “Once we shake the aliens.”

“We need to get somewhere that has a lab I can use,” Scully said.   “And somewhere we can stay for the night.  I’ll stay up and work on this, but there’s no reason the rest of you shouldn’t get some sleep.”

“Is there anything we can do about our eyes?” Ben asked.

“Not really,” Mulder said.  “You just have to wait for it to pass.”

“This’ll teach you to wantonly kill aliens,” Leslie said.  “Violence obviously isn’t the answer.”

“You said you were proud of me!” Ben said.

“I am proud of you,” Leslie said.  “But now that you’ve killed one alien, you don’t need to do it again.  How different can it be, killing one alien versus another?”  She looked into the backseat, as if she expected Mulder and Scully to provide an answer.

“Um…not that different,” Mulder said.

“See, Mulder says it’s not that different,” Leslie told Ben.  “And he ought to know.  See any more aliens coming?”

“I don’t think so,” Mulder said.  “We might have outdriven them, for now anyway.”

“It was probably all that swerving,” Leslie said.  “Still proud of you, babe.”

“Thanks,” Ben said.  “Where should we go to find a lab?”

Mulder looked on his phone; there was a research hospital in the next town over, one that Scully knew by reputation and said would have what she needed.  “There’s not much else in that town, though,” she said.  “I hope we can find somewhere to stay.”

They did, eventually, after a lot of driving around: a small motel near the hospital.  They all looked a little the worse for wear as they walked into the building, but the woman at the desk didn’t react.  “We’d like two rooms for the next few nights, please,” said Leslie.

“There’s only one room,” the woman said.  “Place is full up.”

“What?” Leslie asked.  “The country’s in the middle of an alien invasion and people are choosing this time to go on vacation?”

“Yeah, well, I think they wrecked some people’s houses or something,” the woman said.  “Besides, who are you to talk?  You’re trying to stay here too.”

“That’s different,” Leslie said.  “We’re here on important business.”

“Good for you,” the woman said.  “We still only have one room.”

“Should I pull rank?” Leslie asked, turning to the rest of them.

“Doesn’t matter what your rank is,” the woman said.  “Unless your rank involves conjuring up additional rooms.”

“Look, it’s fine,” Scully said.  “I won’t even be here most of the time.”

“Yeah, we’ve done this before,” Mulder added.  “Not a big deal.”  He turned to the woman.  “We’ll take it.”

The room was clean enough, and the bed was good-sized, at least.  “I think…I’ll take a very fast shower,” Scully said, glancing at the clock.  “And then I’ll head over to the hospital.”

Mulder sank into a chair.  When he next became aware of his surroundings, it was almost three in the morning; Leslie and Ben were lying on the bed, asleep.  He stretched—the chair hadn’t been the most comfortable place to sleep in—and headed for the door, passing by the front desk.  “Anywhere you can get food at this hour?” he asked the woman.

“Yeah,” she said.  “Diner next door.  Open all night.”

“Thanks,” Mulder said, giving her a nod and leaving the motel.

It didn’t take him long to get what he wanted—the diner wasn’t especially crowded at this hour—and he left the diner carrying sandwiches in a paper bag.  It only took a little longer to navigate his way through the hospital; he had to stop once and ask for directions, but he soon found the lab where Scully was working.  He tapped on the door.  She looked up.

“Hey,” she said.  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”  Her smile, though, said that she was glad he was there.

He shrugged.  “I woke up.  And I brought you a BLT.  Do you want it now or…?”

“I’ll come out,” she said.  “It’s probably not a good idea to get bacon near the samples.”

“Probably not,” he agreed.  He kissed her cheek as she came into the outer room and waited while she washed her hands.  Then they perched side by side on chairs in the waiting area, eating their sandwiches.

“Where are Leslie and Ben?” Scully asked him.

“Still at the motel,” Mulder said.  “Asleep.”

“That’s good,” Scully said.  “You were all asleep when I left.  Did you sleep through until now or…?”

“Yeah, I did,” Mulder said.  “Don’t worry about me, Scully.  If I wanted to go back to sleep, I would.  I’d rather be here with you.”

She smiled again.  “I’d rather that too, Mulder.  If you’re really not tired.”

“I’m really not,” he said.  “Besides, there’s not much space to sleep anyway.  Even if I wanted to.  That chair was killing me.”

“I think we’re a little past our peak days,” Scully said, “for running around and sleeping anywhere.  I had such a crick in my neck from sleeping in the car.  And my feet are tired.”

“Anything I can do?” he asked.

“You already helped,” Scully said, waving what remained of her sandwich.  “And just having you here.  That’s good too.”

“How’s it coming?” he asked—he wasn’t sure about alluding to the subject, but he figured they’d have to talk about it soon enough, anyway.  “You making any progress?”

“I think so,” she said.  “Starting to get there, anyway.  I thought I’d get in touch with Leslie—we’ll need a way to distribute the vaccine, once I’ve figured it out.  She seems like the best person to coordinate that.”

“Sounds like something she can handle,” Mulder agreed.  “You want me to take a message back to her?”

“Sure,” Scully said.  “And then…come back here, okay?”

“Of course,” he said.

Leslie and Ben were still asleep when Mulder got back to the hotel, but they were only moderately grouchy and disoriented when he shook them awake.  “What?” Leslie said.  “What?”

“Do we have to kill more aliens?” Ben asked.  “Please no.”  His eyes still looked a little swollen, but maybe that was just because he’d been asleep.

“No more aliens,” Mulder said.

“Ever?” Ben asked.

“In this room,” Mulder said.  “Scully wanted me to give you a message, Leslie.”

“Okay,” Leslie said.  “Just a second.”  She fumbled for a pad of paper and a pen.  “Okay.  I’m ready.”

“She’s making some progress with the vaccine,” Mulder said.  “So she wants you to start setting up a way to distribute it, once it’s finished.  Obviously as broadly and as quickly as possible—”

“Pssh, I wasn’t born yesterday,” Leslie said.  “I know how public health works, thanks.”  She was writing rapidly on the pad.  “Okay.   First I’ll call the Department of Health.  We’ll need to start setting up clinics.  Ben, are you fully awake now?  Can you work on this with me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ben said.  “You want me to get your health binder?”

“You know what I like,” Leslie said.

Ben headed for the desk, upon which Leslie had placed a large stack of binders.  “Let’s get to work then,” he said, retrieving the correct one.  “You can sleep on the bed for a while if you want, Mulder.”

“Thanks,” Mulder said, “but I’m heading back to the hospital.  Scully’s…well, I want to be with her while she’s working.”

“Understood,” Ben said, smiling at him.  “Tell her we’re rooting for her.”

“Of course,” Mulder said.

Scully was still working when he got back to the hospital.  She nodded to the chair next to hers, without speaking; he could tell she was on the trail of something.  So he sat down beside her, not speaking either, just wanting to be there.

The hours went by, and this chair wasn’t any more comfortable than the one in the hotel room—less, actually, since it didn’t have any cushioning.  He stayed anyway, though, only getting up briefly—to go to the bathroom or to find them more food.  “Just us again,” Scully said at one point, when they were grabbing a snack in the hallway.

“Just us again,” he agreed.  “Eating weird things at weirder hours.”

“Always,” she said, and she smiled at him, and he felt more hopeful, even if it was for no concrete reason.

He’d lost track of the time completely—the clock in the lab only had one working hand—when Scully turned to him, a look of anticipation on her face.  “I think…I have it,” she said.  Her voice was quiet, maybe calm if you didn’t know her well.  But he did know her well.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“As sure as I can be, now,” Scully said.  “We’ll have to see how well it works, obviously.  But I’m almost positive.”

He picked her up then, from her seat into his arms; she giggled.   “You’re brilliant,” he said, his mouth against her hair.  “Have I told you you’re brilliant?”

“I don’t mind hearing it,” Scully said.  She kissed him quickly, then slid down to her feet.  “We’ll have to pick this up later, though.   There’s more work to be done.”

“You mean we don’t get to canoodle in a lab?” Mulder asked, following her as she gathered up her things, placing the vaccine carefully in an insulated box.  “It’s been years since we’ve canoodled in a lab.”

“You make a good point,” Scully said; they were out the door now, walking towards the elevator.  “We should plan on that, once we get home.  But right now, we need to work on producing more vaccine and on distributing it as quickly as possible.”

Leslie and Ben were intent on a pile of papers, but they looked up as Mulder and Scully came into the motel room.  “What’s the news?” Leslie asked.

“I think I’ve developed a working vaccine,” Scully said.

“You’re finished?” Leslie asked.  “This quickly?”  She was grinning from ear to ear even before Scully nodded.  “Scully, you’re brilliant and you’re beautiful!” she declared.

“That’s what I told her,” Mulder said, putting an arm around Scully, who was blushing.  “How’s it coming with the distribution plans?”

“We’re making good progress,” Leslie said.  “I’ve organized this kind of thing before—not on such a large scale, of course, and probably not quite this urgent, but it’s a start.  I’d think we should be able to start getting this out in the morning.”

“And we also worked on some ideas for quarantine,” Ben said, “for people who have already been infected.  We want you to check them over, of course—we don’t know how this virus works quite as well as you do.   But I tried to remember everything you told us earlier.”  He pointed to a document on his computer screen.

Mulder leaned in to read it, Scully looking over his shoulder.  “These are really good suggestions,” he said.

“Yes,” said Scully.  “I like this one especially, about repurposing existing facilities.”

Ben was the one who was blushing now.  “Well,” he said, “I just wanted to make sure I understood what the virus was like.  So I could do the best job possible.”

“Killing aliens and healing their victims,” Leslie said.  “Still proud of you.”  She yawned.  “I barely even know what time it is any more.  But it’s okay.  You two should have the bed.  We used it already.  For sleeping.”

“Thank you,” Scully said, heading for the bed and flopping down without further ado.

Mulder followed her.  “Do you want to take your shoes off?” he asked.  No answer.  “Do you want me to take your shoes off?”  Still no answer.  She was asleep already.

“She’s been up so long,” he whispered to Leslie and Ben.  “I’ll just take her shoes off.”  Having done so, he lay down on the bed as well; Scully had sprawled across a large portion of it, but he managed to find room.  By now, it wasn’t difficult to fall asleep.

.....

“Does my appearance,” Leslie asked him, “say, ‘Presidential, in-charge, successful against all threats from this planet or any other, but also thoughtful and concerned about ordinary Americans and the struggles they are still facing in rebuilding?’”

“Yeah,” Ben said.  “That was exactly what I thought, when I first looked at you.”

“Good!” Leslie said.  “We’re ready for the press conference, then?”

“Whenever you say the word,” Ben told her, and they walked into the press room.

Instantly, they were besieged with questions.  “President Knope, can you tell us more about the successful creation of the black oil vaccine?”

“Is the defeat of the aliens due to the army?”

“What should people do to be prepared against the future return of the aliens?”

“Now, these aliens, would you say they came from space?”

“One at a time, one at a time,” Leslie said.  The reporters quieted down, at least somewhat, and Leslie took her place at the podium.  “As I’ve always said—during my campaign and throughout my political career—there are two secrets to good government.  One is putting the people first.  And the other is having a strong team.  During the recent alien colonization crisis, I was very fortunate to have that.”  She smiled.  “When I was preparing for office, I of course did my due diligence on plans for extraterrestrial contact, but this turned out to be unlike anything I expected.  So I’d first like to extend my thanks to FBI director Walter Skinner, who recommended that I get in touch with retired agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.  Their help was absolutely invaluable in providing us with ways to deal with and combat the aliens, not to mention developing the vaccine that protected so many of our people against the black oil.  Without them, we might not be here right now.”

“What about the Battle of the Smithsonian?” one of the reporters asked.  “Why did you choose to attack the aliens in that location?”

“Because of its great strategic advantage,” Leslie replied smoothly; that sounded more presidential, Ben guessed, than because that happened to be where they parked their spaceship. “Incidentally, you’ll be glad to know that we are already working on plans to reopen the exhibits.  As soon as the air is determined to be fully nontoxic again.”

“What made the air so toxic in the first place?” a reporter asked.

“It’s what happens when you kill the aliens,” Leslie explained.  Ben watched her, marveling; only a few weeks ago, this would have been something out of a fantasy for him, something that he would never have believed could actually be real.  And now Leslie was talking about it like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.  “They release a green substance.  I have first-hand experience with it, I’m afraid.  I was present when Ben killed one of the aliens.”  She shot him a grin.  “He was another invaluable member of our team during this crisis.”

“Do you believe the aliens will come back?”

“No, I think we’ve shown that our planet is not amenable to the idea of being colonized,” said Leslie.  “However, we will of course continue to monitor the situation.”

“What message would you send to people who have come in contact with the black oil?”

“Hang in there,” Leslie said, “and it’ll get better soon.  Most people who were infected are already healing.”

“What are you planning to do next, President Knope?”

“I’m looking forward to acting on my campaign promises,” Leslie said.  “The more terrestrial ones.”

“What can you tell us about tonight’s celebration of the crisis resolution?”

“It should be a fun night!” Leslie said.  “We just arranged everything that we were originally planning for the inaugural ball.   Since that was cancelled.  Due to aliens.”  The reporters took frantic notes.

“You know, I didn’t know if I’d get to wear this,” Leslie said, examining her dress in the mirror as they were getting ready for the celebration that night.  “I thought the whole human race might be wiped out.”  Her tone was light, but Ben knew she wasn’t entirely joking.

“Well, we weren’t,” he said.  “And a lot of that’s thanks to you.”   He kissed her lightly.  “You were giving everyone else the credit earlier today.  But you deserve credit too.”

“Thank you,” she said, kissing him back.  They were quiet for a few minutes, as they finished dressing.  Ben was thinking about what they’d just been through, how excited he was to be seeing friends at the celebration tonight, when he’d thought just recently that he might not see those people again.

“I can’t wait to see everyone,” Leslie said—it wasn’t the first time their thoughts had been in sync, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.   “I’m just glad—we’ve been lucky.  That we’re all okay.”  He nodded, taking her hand, and then they went downstairs.  Sonia, Stephen, and Wesley were waiting for them in the entryway, all dressed up as well.   “Come on, everyone!” Leslie said, beaming, and they headed for the car.

The celebration was crowded already when they got there—everyone wanted to celebrate the defeat of the aliens, and Leslie never had the heart to refuse anyone an invitation.  They soon saw Mulder, Scully, and their kids, though.  “Hi!” Leslie said, moving through the crowd towards them.  “I’m so glad you could all make it.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it,” Mulder said.  “Never thought we’d get invited to a ball.  Or actually be in favor with government officials.   Right, Scully?”

“Right,” Scully said.  “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

“Yes, thank you,” Susanna added, blushing; she still seemed a bit tongue-tied around Leslie, although she’d become fast friends with the triplets during her brief stay at the White House.

“So what do the two of you have planned?” Ben asked.  “Now that we’ve saved the world and all.”

“Back to retirement,” Mulder said.

“And praying it’ll stick this time,” Scully added.

“Well, I’ll certainly miss having your advice,” Leslie said, “but I understand.  And I know we’ll stay friends—oh my God, there’s Ann.”  She abruptly pushed past Scully, as well as several people who were standing behind her, and rushed towards the door, where Ann was just coming in.

“Don’t take it personally,” Ben told Mulder and Scully.  “She’s like this with everyone, when Ann shows up.”  He wanted to say hello to Ann too, but he figured he’d let Leslie have her moment first.  “So,” he asked Mulder and Scully instead, “what eventually happened in that town with the vampires?”  He would have thought that what they’d been through would have cured his interest in paranormal adventures.  But somehow, he was finding, it hadn’t.

Ben and Leslie hadn’t really had a peaceful moment since the inauguration—even after the aliens were gone, they’d been concentrating on dealing with the aftermath—so tonight was especially welcome.  They spent time talking to old friends, of whom there were many; even Ron, who’d just emerged from the cabin in the woods where he’d holed up against the aliens, had agreed to make an appearance.  “Don’t think I’m not still against these large government functions,” he told Ben.  “But it’s Leslie.  You understand.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed.  “It’s Leslie.”

“And,” Ron added, “there’s breakfast food.”  He gestured complacently to his plate.  Ben hadn’t been sure that breakfast food was traditional for this kind of celebration, but Leslie had pointed out that she liked breakfast food and that most people found it very comforting, which was sorely needed in times like these.  He hadn’t been able to argue with that one.

There was dancing too, and Ben held Leslie tightly as they moved among the other couples; he could see Mulder and Scully, dancing nearby, and he gave them a quick wave.  They waved back.  Then he turned back to Leslie.  “Defeated an alien threat,” he said, “and threw a kick-ass celebration.  Not bad for your first month on the job.”

“Not what I originally had planned,” Leslie said, “but I agree, not bad.”

“It’ll really give you something to talk about,” he said, “in your State of the Union.”

She laughed.  “Too true.  But for now—let’s just dance.”

So they did.