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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20

Faith and Dreams - REVIEW THIS STORY

Written by Valerie Jones
Last updated: 04/26/2007 02:10:46 AM

Chapter 1

"Now let me get this straight." Scott was completely exasperated. What in the world had Lilandra gotten them into? "This Mulder, who happens to be an FBI agent from another dimension-- one without significant space travel, I might add-- somehow managed to crash in a spaceship that the Shi’ar are interested in for some unknown reason. Correct?" He split his gaze between Ororo and Remy. They nodded in unison.

"Any ideas on how he might have gotten there?" Scott knew his tone sounded accusing, though it was just a reflection of his frustration. Thankfully, Ororo and Remy seemed to realize this. Neither was particularly defensive as they answered his rapid-fire questions.

"I have a theory." As always, Ororo spoke with calm deliberation. Scott looked at her expectantly.

"From our previous trip to that world, we know that there is a significant interstellar civilization that is interested in that Earth. One of our concerns while we were there was that they would notice us." She motioned to herself and Remy. "Elizabeth said that they have an intense interest in breeding experiments, though she did not know why or what kind, exactly. We were afraid that, if they realized the potential of our mutant genes, they might very well attempt to pursue us back to this dimension." Her gaze was direct and uncompromising.

"And you think they have?" Scott hadn’t paid too much attention to that part of Storm’s report when they’d brought Rogue back. He hadn’t really considered the possibility that these aliens might find their way across the gulf.

"I think it is possible."

Remy frowned. "So why didn’ we find any little gray men at de crash site?"

"Little gray men?" Scott asked.

"Dat’s what Rogue called dem, an’ she’s de only one dat met one." He shrugged and grinned. "But she was flyin’ pretty high at de time, y’know? Dey could prob’ly look like anyt’ing."

"I do not know why we did not find any of these aliens at the site," Ororo went back to the original question, ignoring Remy. "But I will speculate that they were taken by whoever shot down the ship."

"But not Mulder?" Scott was skeptical. Someone had gone to some trouble to shoot that ship down and then get out again before the X-Men arrived on the scene. Why would they leave a human body behind? To sow confusion perhaps? It was more likely, he thought, that Mulder had been the only occupant of the ship. Of course, that begged a whole new set of questions, like how he’d gotten hold of a spaceship in the first place.

"Maybe we should ask his partner what happened," Ororo suggested. "She may be able to shed some light on how he came to our dimension, at least."

Remy snorted. "She gon’ be thrilled t’ see us."

Scott considered the two of them. Both had been on this other Earth, and Ororo, at least, was adamant about the danger posed by these unknown aliens. Scott wasn’t entirely convinced, but he trusted her opinion and even more, her levelheaded consideration. She would not be so concerned if she did not believe the threat was very real. But for that reason especially, he wanted to keep her here, on their own Earth.

That meant sending Gambit, which didn’t entirely thrill him. Not that Remy wasn’t capable—he was. He just tended to be a little... flamboyant at what Scott considered to be inappropriate times. Perhaps, if he sent some backup with Remy... He nodded to himself as he made the decision.

"Storm, I want you to stay here." Her eyes widened minusculely in surprise, but she nodded. "I’ll send Jean with Remy to talk to this partner."

"Sounds good t’ me," Remy agreed. "Telepath come in handy dealin’ wit dose people."

Scott stared at Remy. There was something in his voice that was disturbing. Maybe it was just that he sounded completely sincere. The Cajun was universally suspicious of telepaths, which made Scott wonder why he suddenly felt like the mission needed one.

Jean can take care of herself, he reminded himself sternly. He was not going to panic over a little bit of strangeness on Gambit’s part. "Just get back here as quickly as you can," he told Remy.

Dana Scully wandered through her apartment, unconsciously clenching and unclenching her hands at her sides. There were a lot of things she could be working on—her paper for the American Medical Association or the research she was doing for the Cancer Society. Even the New York Times crossword that lay on her kitchen table. She had managed to fill in exactly three clues before the restlessness that filled her brought her to her feet again. She couldn’t seem to focus on anything.

Maybe it was just exhaustion. She couldn’t sleep at all—not voluntarily. When she laid down, the restlessness built up inside her until she wanted to scream, so she got up, made tea and tried to find something to occupy herself with. Eventually, sleep would claim her, but only for a few fitful hours until the sun came up.

It was worse now that she had no more responsibilities. She had stayed with Mrs. Mulder throughout the visitation and the funeral, trying to be some kind of comfort for the woman who had lost her entire family. But now that it was all over, she just didn’t know what to do with herself. Skinner had insisted that she take a few days off, and to some degree she agreed. She wasn’t really ready to work. She also knew he needed the time to reassign her, which made her dread returning to the Bureau. The X-files had been such an intrinsic part of her life these past years... he had been such an intrinsic part of her life, that the idea of doing something else was almost unthinkable.

She sank onto the nearest chair, fighting tears. Her purse and its contents lay scattered across the table. Carefully, she picked up her keys, fingering the key chain that Mulder had given her for her birthday. Despite his protestations, she had always believed that the moon landing emblem in a way symbolized his unquenchable desire to know what was out there, just as man’s trip to the moon had been the fulfillment of the same kind of dream. That desire defined who he was—it was the passion she saw burning in his eyes and the source of the incredible strength that kept him going despite everything that happened to him.

Her fingers closed tightly around the medallion. Now it was simply a symbol of who Fox Mulder had been. And it was all she had left.

You weren’t kidding about the surveillance, were you? Jean glanced at Remy, who returned a fleeting smile. There were two teams they’d spotted, both watching the apartment with its single occupant.

Nope. It was like dis last time, too.

Why are they so interested in a couple of field agents? One of the teams belonged to the FBI. The other was private, though Jean had skimmed enough from the mens’ minds to make her think that they were probably funded by the government as well.

Remy shrugged and took another drag on his cigarette. They were standing in an alley that looked out on the back of Scully’s apartment, well hidden in the late night shadows. Somet’ing ‘bout dese two make dem nervous. I got de impression last time dat it’s because dey have a tendency t’ stick dere noses in where de government don’ want dem to.

Jean studied the building. Considering where they’d found one half of the pair, that analysis didn’t surprise her. So how are we going to get to her without being seen?

Remy flashed his famous smile. We not.

Oh really?

Still grinning, he dropped the remains of his cigarette on the ground, grinding it beneath the heel of his boot. Once it’s a decent hour f’ a body t’ have company, we just walk up t’ de door. Woman’s got t’ have some friends dat might come callin’.

Jean chuckled to herself. And here Scott was always going on about how Remy didn’t understand the concept of subtlety.

Dana jumped at the knock on her door. She wasn’t sure why, except that it was a rare sound and one she wasn’t used to. Irritably brushing the hair out of her face, she climbed to her feet and went to answer door.

"Hello, Agent Scully. Been a while, neh?" Dana stared at the man in shock. She recognized him, of course, but she had never really expected to see him again. Her mind scrambled after a name.

"...Remy...Won’t you come in?" She stepped back slowly, allowing him to enter. The red-haired woman beside him was unfamiliar, but she gave Dana a friendly smile as she passed.

Dana closed the door and turned to her visitors, mind whirling. "I didn’t expect to see you again."

He shrugged, his expression invisible behind dark glasses. "Life’s like dat, I guess." Once again, Dana found herself wishing she could see his eyes. Perhaps she would feel a little more trusting then.

"Dis is Jean Summers," Remy went on, indicating the woman with him.

‘Nice to meet you," Jean said in a pleasant voice.

Dana studied the woman intently. She seemed fairly non-threatening, though Dana had learned not to trust her feelings on that. Jean returned her stare without apparent concern. She seemed content to wait for Dana to gather her impressions. Her composure was almost unnerving.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Dana returned her attention to Remy. "What do you want?"

His expression became utterly serious. "I’m afraid we brought bad news, chere. Y’ partner is dead."

Dana blinked at him, confused. Just hearing the words set off a little twinge in her chest—an echo of the feelings that had engulfed her when she first realized Mulder was gone. But why was he, of all people, telling her this? And why now?

She nodded. "I know. The funeral was two days ago."

He and Jean exchanged puzzled glances. "The funeral?" Jean asked after a moment.

Dana stared at them, her apprehension growing. "Yes. Is something wrong?"

"But, how did y’ know he was dead?"

Dana was beginning to feel like they weren’t quite on the same wavelength. And it wasn’t a topic she wanted to dwell on. "I ID’d the body," she told him stiffly.

Remy and Jean looked at each other again, almost as if they could communicate with the glance. Eventually Remy turned back to her.

"Maybe we should go someplace an’ talk."


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