Wednesday's Child
part 6/?
by Rhondda Lake

MOTEL 6
FIVE MILES EAST
HUNTINGTON, UTAH

It had been a long day, and Sarah had held up fairly well. He 
watched her stare at the map they had taped to the wall, at the 
dart sticking out of the middle of Pennsylvania. Their next 
destination. Pittsburgh.

She was tense. She had a right to be. Everything had been going 
so well in Montana. She had been working as a horse trainer, 
and he as a ranch hand. Roles they were comfortable with. Lyca 
had made friends, and they had fallen into the trap of normalcy. 

They became complacent in their contentment. He inwardly 
berated himself, for succumbing to the lure. For living the dream 
his people fought for. For the small extent of freedom he'd found. 
Such guilts were old habits. Ones he indulged in sporadically, 
at best.

"Lyca, it's bedtime. Please turn the TV off." Sarah moved at last, 
her eyes tearing away from the map to rest on the second of the 
room's double beds.

Lyca pouted. "I slept in the car. I'm not tired, mommy. Can't I 
just watch until this show is over." The child turned her attention 
back to the television, entranced by a show without color involving 
a woman with a twitching nose who defied the laws of physics. 

"It's already an hour past your bedtime. Now, Lyca." Sarah sighed, 
she looked so tired.

"But I don't wanna go to bed." A glare was followed by an angry 
version of the former pout. Her short, blonde hair swinging with 
the angry jerk of her head.

"Lyca..." Sarah growled.

"Why don't we read a story before you go to sleep." He intervened 
before Sarah did anything she'd later regret and his daughter pushed 
her mother too far.

Lyca's face transformed with a smile. "Okay."

Sarah frowned, her eyes misting over with unshed tears.

"Why don't you find a book in your bag. I'll help mommy get
 ready for a shower." He ran a thick finger down Lyca's pale, 
downy cheek. She nodded.

He ushered Sarah into the small bathroom. "I'm sorry." The 
only words he knew to say at this moment.

"She listens to YOU. Sometimes I feel like the fifth wheel in 
this party." Sarah angrily swiped at her eyes.

"Explain this fifth wheel," he frowned.

"It's an expression for something unnecessary. Useless." She 
turned away from him and chewed silently on her bottom lip.

"Never. You hold us together. You... and she... you are all I 
have. She struck out now because she is frightened, and there 
is nowhere for her to direct that fear. She becomes confused 
and angry. You were just the target this time. Next time it could 
be me, or a waitress, or anyone." He placed his hands on her 
shoulders and turned her to face him. 

She sniffed once and nodded. "When did you learn so much 
about kids?" She offered him a tiny smile.

"Since you gave me Lyca. Now take a hot shower, try to relieve 
some of your tension. I'll get her to sleep." He kissed her forehead.

"I know how I could relieve some tension." Sarah kissed him fully.

Seven years ago kissing seemed a strange custom. But he had 
since learned to enjoy this human expression of emotion, 
immensely. After a long moment he pulled away with some 
reluctance. "Don't start what we cannot finish. Not with Lyca 
asleep in the same room. We will find time for ourselves later. 
I promise."

"Promises, promises." Sarah sighed again, and looked forlorn. 
He wondered if she realized just how much her daughter resembled 
her. This was the very thing Lyca had been doing. Best not to 
mention it. 

"Daddy..." The pleading voice through the door.

"I'm coming," he called out. 'Later,' he mouthed, caressing 
Sarah's cheek.

In the room he sat on Lyca's bed, his back against the wall. 
"Why don't you read to ME, tonight?" He glanced at the book 
filled with impossible stories of animated stuffed toys lead by a 
bear on an eternal quest for honey.

"Okay." Lyca tucked into his side, so small and fragile. Her tiny 
toes peeked out of the bottom of her white nightgown. He was in 
awe of her. He had been since Sarah told him that she had conceived. 
This was something he had never expected. This was something he 
would die and kill for. Even if he had been less then happy when 
first told of her conception. Was this not the very thing his people
fought so hard to prevent? A hybrid. A perfect hybrid.

Her soft, singsong voice chanted out the story she without a 
doubt knew by heart as he heard the water begin to run in the 
bathroom. All he ever needed was in this tiny lodging room, on 
a primitive planet in the middle of nowhere. 

He suppressed a shiver. He suddenly felt the overwhelming 
dread of losing it all. 

"Daddy? Are you okay?" innocent green eyes peered up at him.

"Yes. Piglet just let Owl take over his home. See, I was paying 
attention." He stroked her soft hair.

This earned him a smile. 

---------------------------------

Sarah, dressed in one of Drogan's t-shirts, stepped from the 
bathroom to see him seated on the floor beside Lyca's bed, 
watching her sleep with the same look of wonder on his features 
as when he first beheld her. She remembered it vividly.

>>>"You'd think you never saw a baby before." Sarah looked 
on with her own awe as Drogan inspected the wet, squirming 
infant currently wailing her displeasure to the world. He had 
helped in the delivery, blocking all pain, and easing the passage 
while mentally monitoring the baby's health through the process.

"Seen, yes. But our children are bred in a nursery. Fertilization 
accomplished through the controllers. If we donated genetic 
material to create a new life, we rarely get to see the result." 
Drogan awkwardly handed the towel swaddled child to Sarah, 
who held the tiny miracle for the first time.

He peered carefully at her tiny face and head. "Is this pointed 
head a birth defect?"

Sarah heard her father laugh next to her. A deep, booming 
noise that made Drogan frown.

"No, Drogan. It will round out in a few days. It's from the 
birth process. And so is this..." She smiled warmly as the 
newborn automatically latched on to the offered nipple. 

"Don't worry, son. You'll get the knack." Kevin Brighton 
beamed at them all.<<<

"'Follow me', he said; 'Weep not for the maid; In my palace 
deep, Lyca lies asleep.' Then they followed, Where the vision 
led, And saw their sleeping child, Among the tigers wild." 
Sarah recited the fragment of poem softly, from memory.

Their daughter had been named after the child in Blake's "Little 
Girl Lost' and 'Little Girl Found', her favorite poems since 
childhood. 

"She was too stubborn to admit how tired she was." Drogan 
looked up at Sarah from his position on the floor. "She is too 
much like you."

"Oh, and you're not the least bit stubborn." Sarah crossed 
her arms.

"No." He actually looked serious, but there was a glimmer 
in his eyes that betrayed his deadpan face.

"I'm glad we got that cleared up. First thing in the morning 
I'm going to call dad, and tell him where we're headed." 

She looked over at the map. "Pittsburgh... it seems so far 
away."

"It is no distance at all," he tried to reassure her. 

"Not to YOU." Sarah smiled sadly. "I know, welcome to your 
world. Far away from all you know and love."

"No. I have both of you. That is enough." His tone was firm.

"Is it?" Sarah watched him stand and cross to their bed. "Don't 
you miss your home? Your people?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I feel I have betrayed them, by 
claiming this. But to dwell on it is... foolish."

Sarah curled up beside him and lay her head on his broad shoulder. 
"What a pair we are."

His hand twined fingers with hers. "We are that. But then we 
are... unique. I somehow doubt there is another pair quite like 
us in the whole universe."

Sarah chuckled. "If there is... God help the universe."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" A tiny smile teased 
the corners of a hard mouth.

"I seem to recall your first riding lesson. You tried to reason 
with the horse." Her eyes danced merrily, and she felt her mood 
begin to lighten.

"I'd like to see you pilot a krrcoita fighter at half the speed of 
light." He smiled fully in response. The expression softening 
his ruggedly handsome face. 

"Point proven." There was silence for a moment, then a soft 
fit of giggles, toned down so as to not awaken the child sleeping 
in the next bed. "But you thought it would LISTEN."

                             X - x - X

CLAYTON, NM
7 YEARS AGO

Sarah tried to remain silent, but the damn ladder creaked under 
her weight. The hayloft above the stables was recently filled, 
leaving the aroma of fresh cut hay to mask most of the odor of 
the horses below.

Once at the top she could see his outline in the open bale doors. 
He sat at the edge, one long leg apparently dangling out into the 
open night air. Sarah shivered. This place was too damn high. 

She abandoned all precept of silence as she shuffled her way 
through the older hay, free of the neatly packed bales. Drogan 
didn't even turn around. She sat across from him, if a bit further 
back from that precarious edge.

"Which one is yours?" She followed his line of sight to the far 
distant stars above.

"It cannot be seen with the eye alone." His voice sounded distant, 
perhaps a bit wistful.

"Gimme a hint here? A general direction would be fine." She 
tried to study his chiseled features in the pale moonlight. 

"Above the apple tree a hand span, a bit left of its center."

Sarah peered over the tree in question. "Cassiopia. You're 
from somewhere in the Cassiopia area?"

He looked at her at last. "I do not understand this term. I 
thought the direction was called south."

Sarah smiled. He was incredibly intelligent and charmingly 
naive all at once. "Cassiopia is a constellation. A group of stars 
that make a shape. Right now she looks like a wide doubleyou. 
All constellations have a story to them. Myths passed down 
through the ages. Cassiopia was a vain queen who offended 
the goddess of beauty, I think it was, and as punishment she 
was set among the stars, reclining on her throne. Half the year 
she is upright, the other half she is chained to it upside-down 
in retribution."

"You see a woman on a throne in those stars?" He seemed to 
peer at the stars in question with renewed concentration. 

"Nope. I see a big Doubleyou. The ancient Greeks saw a queen 
on a throne. Go figure." She was silent for a while. "What do 
you see?"

"I see stars."

Sarah sighed, "I'm gonna have to work on developing your 
imagination a bit."

"Imagination? I can imagine many things. More than you may 
realize. But I cannot imagine a throne in those stars." Drogan 
looked up once more. "Tell me what other pictures your people 
see."

He could see the sense in the naming of the big and little dippers, 
and Orion. Pegasus was a lost cause, though.

Sarah found herself completely relaxed and at ease as she pointed 
out what constellations she could remember. Drogan even 
demonstrated his possession of imaginative faculties by making up
 a few constellations of his own. Sarah found herself playing along.

By the time she felt the first yawn rise they had been talking for 
hours. A quick look at her watch revealed the time to be well 
past midnight.

"Ohmigod! I hope dad doesn't know we're out here." Sarah sat up 
abruptly. "If he does, we are gonna be in trouble."

"Why?" Drogan frowned slightly. Sarah shook her head, delighted, 
in spite of the possible situation, that Drogan was picking up more 
expressions. He was a lot less formidable and unapproachable when 
he allowed emotions to touch his face.

"Because he'll think we're doing more than talking. He has a naturally 
suspicious mind." Sarah stood and brushed the hay from her clothes.

"What would he think us to be doing, other than talk?" Drogan stood, 
and seeing Sarah trying to rid herself of evidence of the loft, began 
to pluck strands of hay from her long hair.

Sarah froze as he removed the last seed from her. Dad would be 
suspicious because he knows I find you way too facinating, on 
way too many levels, Sarah thought to herself as she shivered at 
the contact.

"He'd think... he'd think we were fooling around. Ya' know." 
She tentitively reached out to brush hayseeds from Drogan's work 
shirt, feeling hard muscle underneath, she willed her hands not to 
shake. She realized how silly she was being.

"Fooling around? Explain." Drogan cocked his head to one side.

Sarah felt herself blush and hoped the pale moonlight hid it. 
"Um... showing deep affection... uh... kissing..." Sarah felt 
herself begin to stutter, "s...stuff like that."

"Ah. Mating rituals." Drogan nodded sagely.

Sarah just knew she'd turned bright pink. 

"Your people have curious customs," Drogan added.

"C... curious? How?" Sarah found herself asking despite her 
desire to run from here and hide.

"This pressing together of lips. It is a strange preliminary." 

"Strange? You mean your people don't kiss?" Sarah was 
astonished.

"No." Simple and to the point.

"You don't know what you're missing." Sarah half smiled.

"It hardly seems worth the effort." 

Sarah laughed. "I do believe you are coming on to me... 
making this a challenge."

"Making what a challenge?" Drogan frowned.

"Defending my culture's pride." Sarah rose to her tip toes and 
pressed her lips to his hard, unyielding ones. 

She rocked back, frowning. "Loosen up. This isn't gonna hurt."

"I doubt if you could hurt me..." 

Sarah moved in for the kill. Not much in the subtlety area, but 
she was, after all, out to prove a point. She sandwiched his 
bottom lip and applied a little suction. He was not being 
overly co-operative, and she had the sudden fear she'd just 
made the world's biggest fool of herself. 

When he opened his mouth it was probobly to ask another of 
his damnable questions. She didn't give him the chance, instead 
she deepened the kiss. 

That got his attention. 

With a little bit of show and tell, she found Drogan was a most 
excellent student.

When they finally crept into the ranch house Sarah felt all quivery 
inside. She realized she was falling fast, and wondered if it was 
such a good idea.

She stopped dead in her tracks when her father appeared at 
the foot of the stairs.

"What are you two doin' up so late?" His voice shattered the 
silence.

Drogan's answer, behind her, actually broke through her sudden 
terror and made her laugh. Leave it to an alien.

"We were fooling around, sir."

end part 6...

Wednesday's Child
part 7/?
by Rhondda Lake

WEST OF CLAYTON, NM

Scully looked up and traced the outline of Orion above them. 
So far from the city, in the midst of cattle country the stars 
were at their brightest. She felt she could see forever. If only 
she could see more clearly looking down.

Mulder's flashlight danced about, playing over rock and black 
dirt. 

There was a warm breeze flowing over the expanse of rock 
on which they now stood. It was a perfect summer night. So, 
what the hell were they doing in the middle of nowhere? 

"The whole area is clean." Mulder's voice emerged from the 
darkness to her right. 

"You expected what? A big mass of wreckage and a neon 
sign?" Scully looked back to the heavens, finding the big 
dipper now. "No matter what crashed here seven years ago, 
it was long since cleaned up and scoured. They probably 
even removed a layer of dirt and slate to clean suspected 
radiation leakage."

She was suddenly blinded by a powerful beam light hitting 
the right side of her face. 

"Somehow I knew you weren't looking very hard." 

Scully winced and raised her hand to fend off the glare. "Mulder, 
it's past midnight. It's pitch black out here. We don't know enough 
about the area to know an anomalous feature if we did, somehow, 
see one. Wait until daylight. SEEING would be nice. Nothing 
that's been here for seven years is going to disappear by tomorrow."

"If you were this against coming out here, why did you come?" 
Mulder kicked at a rock. Scully could tell by the scuffing sound 
and the skittering pebble.

"Because I know you. You wouldn't sleep at all tonight unless 
we at least tried. Okay, we tried. But right now I want a nice 
soft bed and a few hours of sleep more than I want to be 
handed the secrets of the universe." Scully sighed and gestured 
to the sky. "However beautiful the night is tonight."

Silence, then a soft chuckle. "Hey Scully, you ever make it at a 
rumored UFO crash site before?"

Scully found herself grinning into Mulder's light beam in spite 
of herself. "Can't say as I have. Can't say as I'm going to either. 
You missed your chance to get lucky tonight, Mister. You 
wanted to come out here, instead. I have every intention of 
SLEEPING when we get back to the motel." 

"You're a hard woman, Agent Scully." By the sounds and the 
dancing of the flashlight beam it appeared Mulder was moving 
closer.

"Yup. And unless you take care of it yourself you're gonna 
remain a hard man, Agent Mulder." Scully crossed her arms.

"Ouch. That was a low blow." He was standing next to her now, 
and she could make him out as he pointed his light to the ground.

"So was dragging me out here at this hour. And did we actually 
learn anything from this little midnight exercise?"

Mulder shrugged. "Yeah, actually we did. If my sense of direction 
is still in top form, the outskirts of the Lazy B ranch is five miles 
that-a way." The beam danced off into the night to their left as 
Mulder pointed. "Anyone outside seven years ago had to have 
seen the crash." Mulder looked pointedly at Scully. "Whatever 
it was that crashed."

"Okay, let me have it. What's your theory?"

"I'm wondering if someone down there didn't come here to help, 
or just out of curiosity."

Scully shook her head. "Someone meaning Sarah Brighton. 
And all this has something to do with the mysterious Lyca 
Brighton." 

"You have to admit it's too much of a coincidence. Maybe 
she walked into a rescue mission and started a series of abduction 
experiences. Maybe she found or was exposed to something out 
here that altered her on a genetic level. I don't have a perfect 
theory yet. It's still in progress."

Scully pursed her lips. "I'm tired, Mulder. Let's sleep on it and 
see what we come up with in the morning."

Back at the car Scully found herself again drawn to the stars. 
"It is a beautiful night to be out. I'll give you that."

Mulder looked up. "Yeah, you can see every constellation 
clearly."

"And here I thought you owned a telescope to look into 
windows. Were you a member of the astronomy club, Mulder?"

"Yes, I was a NASA junky, remember. I bet you were in the 
astronomy club as well."

Scully smiled. "I was in all the unpopular clubs, Mulder. Well, 
not the audiovisual. Even I never sunk that low."

"Me either. Astronomy club was my only non-sport related 
extracurricular activity. But then I think Miss Kilborne had 
something to do with that." 

"Miss Kilborne?" Scully settled back in her seat and smiled 
slightly, gaining some idea where this was going.

"The woman was a heavenly body all by herself." Scully could s
ee Mulder grinning by the green glow of the dashboard.

"Ooooh, Mulder was hot for teacher," she almost chuckled.

"Me and the rest of the male population at school. Ah, it broke 
our collective hearts the day she married Dr. Haliman." 

"A woman of discerning taste." 

"What was the name of the teacher you had the big crush on?" 
Mulder kept his eyes on the road, but she sensed she had most 
of his attention.

"What makes you think I had a crush on a teacher?" 

"Everybody does at one point or another. It's one of those rights 
of passage. Desiring the unobtainable, that sort of thing." He 
sounded so sure of himself.

She leaned over and purred into his ear, "And just what makes 
you think he was unobtainable, Mulder?" 

She watched with satisfaction as he shifted in his seat. "Are you 
trying to infer you were a bad girl, Agent Scully? The kind that 
seduced your teacher?"

She trailed a finger lazily around the outside edge of his ear. 
"Wouldn't you just love to know." 

With a lovely, wicked feeling she shifted back to lean against the 
door, feigning a yawn. "Wake me when we get to the motel, 
Mulder."

                                X - x - X

Reese looked up as his lieutenant entered the room with a thick file.

"Sir, Mulder and Scully are currently in New Mexico. We believe 
it is linked to this case. They flew in this afternoon." Jackson 
handed over the file. It was thorough and complete. 

"Good man. I want ten men besides ourselves. This looks promising. 
I want a spot man on the ICU of this hospital. If this pans out then 
Mulder has lead us right where we need to be. He's a clever man, 
Jackson. Never underestimate him." 

Reese noted the phone call made from the West apartment, and 
the ranch it lead to. Reese was a clever man as well. If Mulder 
went there it was important. If the ambulance taking the old rancher 
away with a coronary shortly after Mulder's visit was any indication, 
he'd hit a nerve.

Judging the age of the man admitted to the hospital and the number 
of previous calls to him made from the West's phone bill, he was 
connected to them. Most likely related, probably the kid's grandfather. 
If the kid they were after risked exposure to save her teacher and a 
bunch of other brats, what would she risk for her own grandad? Once 
her momma heard about this, and those phone bills indicated she kept 
in constant contact, then she'd come running, bringing the target with her. 
They'd try to save the old man. He'd stake his life on it. He was, in a way.

"Keep an eye on our FBI friends movements. I want to know 
who they see and where they go. If they dig into records, I want 
to see what they saw." Reese tapped the pile of paper encased in 
a plain, brown folder. "Keep this up."

Jackson saluted and turned smartly, leaving the room with military 
correctness. 

Reese would have a chopper in an hour, they'd be in Clayton, 
New Mexico before the night was out.

end part 7...
Wednesday's Child
part 8/?
by Rhondda Lake

Sarah snuck out of the room as the dawn barely kissed the horizon. 
She didn't want to disturb Drogan or Lyca with her own feeling of 
unease. It had settled over her as a wet blanket, smothering and 
uncomfortable, since Drogan had pulled out the map and darts. 

The clear, bright dawn reminded her of her childhood. Up with the 
chickens, well, the cows anyway. They didn't keep chickens on the 
ranch. She spotted a pay phone in the motel parking lot at the 
corner and gave in to a familiar urge. Her own personal ET couldn't 
phone home, but she sure as hell could. 

She dialed familiar numbers and reversed the charges. She knew it 
was early, but everyone would be up by now or her father would be 
kicking asses left and right.

The voice accepting the charges was not the one she expected. 

"Lyle? Is that you?" She plugged her free ear with her finger as 
the line was poor quality, and an occasional car sped past the booth.

"Sarah? Thank God. Sarah... I don't know how to tell you this... 
it's your pa." Lyle's normally steady voice sounded highly agitated 
to attentive ears.

"Dad? What's going on? Lyle, come on, don't blurt that out then 
stop!" Sarah's feeling of unease grew to near panic in seconds. She 
struggled to breath past the sudden tightness in her chest.

"It's his heart. He collapsed yesterday. He's in the hospital. ICU. 
They say it don't look good."

Sarah gripped the phone till her knuckles whitened. "How... how 
long has he been down?"

"Since five last night. There was no way to get through to ya. 
But listen, gal, you should stay away. The FBI was here askin' 
'bout ya and the little'un. Your dad tried throwin' em off the trail. 
But that was what triggered his heart, I'm thinkin'."

Sarah shook her head against the pain in her own heart. Swallowing 
around the lump in her throat she took a shaky breath. "No way. 
Listen, Lyle, you know what we need to do, for dad. We'll be there 
by five tonight. You make sure dad holds on. We'll leave Lyca with 
you and Rosa at the ranch. I can disguise myself and you KNOW 
Drogan can. We'll get Drogan to him. We have to."

There was a deep sigh over the line. "I was hopin' you'd be sayin' 
that. We're worried sick here. Come up the north pasture road. 
No one goes out that way. We'll figure something out when you 
get here."

"Just pray dad holds on, Lyle. We're on our way." Sarah hung up 
the phone and ran back to the room.

She made no attempt at quiet this time. "We have to go. Now." 

                                   X - x - X

The silence in the truck was deafening. The argument had been 
taken to the bathroom and kept at whispered levels so as not to 
disturb Lyca. Simply put, Drogan was worried about a trap. He 
had offered to make the trip alone, so she and Lyca would remain 
safe. 

Sarah had insisted. If there was nothing Drogan could do... 
if they were already too late... she needed to see her father 
one last time. She won by stubborness and the fact that in the 
end, Drogan could refuse her nothing, hadn't been able to from 
the start.

That did not mean he was happy about it.

Lyca sat between them in the cab, playing with a Barbie doll. 
She too, was silent, picking up on her parents mood. Earlier she 
had been full of questions about 'granpa'. She had known him as 
a voice on the phone for most of her life. Sarah felt terrible about 
that. Her father would, and might indeed, die to protect his only 
grandchild.

The north pasture road was overgrown with weeds and grass.  
It had been years since the old trail had been traveled by car. 
Horse droppings hinted at its usual traffic. The ride was anything 
but smooth. 

Lyca interrupted the silence to make a humming noise that was 
broken by each jarring bounce. She smiled up at her mother, 
clearly amused by this. Sarah offered her a genuine smile in return, 
envying the child's innocent enjoyment.

Ahead loomed the house Sarah had not seen in four years. She 
felt her eyes grow wet even as her vision blurred. 

Sarah felt the brush against her cheek and turned to Drogan. 
He rubbed the wetness on his fingertips, savoring it, as he carefully 
steered the battered truck to the house.

He had said once that he envied the human ability to cry. His 
kind was not capable of it. 

"Do you think we're in time?" Sarah asked shakily. The drive 
had taken all day, anything could have happened. She had 
begrudged every stop for gas and food. Her mind screaming 
at her that any one of those stops could cost her father's life.

"We will know soon enough." Drogan gestured ahead, where 
Lyle flagged his arms at the truck.

                               X - x - X

Scully had awakened spooned against Mulder. His morning 
erection poking her back like an eager puppy. 

She carefully hid away her grin and looked over her shoulder 
to meet hazel eyes, already wide awake.

"You know, it's not last night anymore."

Scully nodded. "The sunlight in the window did offer me some 
insight into that, Mulder."

"Are you still mad at me?" He mimicked her raised eyebrow, but 
it fell short.

"I wasn't mad at you. I was tired." She corrected him, pointedly.

"So... did you sleep well?" A finger traced it's way down her spine.

"Can you possibly be any more transparent?" She turned to face him.

"Well, I don't want to be pushy."

Scully allowed a soft chuckle. Cupping him gently she offered 
him the long perfected, correct way to raise an eyebrow. 
"Someone here seems rather pushy."

"Well there are some things just beyond even my control." 
His answering smile was as seductive as they come.

"I like to see you out of control." She leaned in to nibble on 
his neck.

"I'll take that as a yes." Mulder pulled the sheet over their 
heads and proceeded to kiss his way down her body. 

Scully grasped the sheets as he reached his goal. His tongue 
playing her body like a Stradavarius, eliciting the sweetest 
music, the most magnificent concerto.

By the time he brought his 'bow' into play Scully was singing 
an aria of passion, little cries and moans that pulled from the 
most ancient of music.

Wrapping her legs around him, she felt the tempo increase as 
she began to play her own song on his flesh. Her own fingers 
and mouth became instruments of pleasure.

As the crescendo overcame them they felt the thrum of their 
duet link them in a hymn to make the angels weep. 

It was a GOOD morning.

                                   -----

The morning had been great. The after noon had been a disaster. 
Scully stepped off the elevator, Mulder's hand warm at the small 
of her back. The daylight return to the 'crash site' had revealed 
just as much as the night time excursion. Nothing. The rocks weren't 
even interesting. 

By three Mulder decided to question Kevin Brighton about the 
crash seven years ago. After all, he reasoned, even if he hadn't 
seen anything, that close to the ranch it had to be pretty big news. 

It was then that they found that Mr. Brighton had suffered a major 
heart attack yesterday and was in the Clayton General Hospital. 
Back in the car Mulder's comment of "Do you think it was something 
we said?" earned him an unamused glare.

Mulder already had his badge out as they approached the nurses desk. 

"Fox Mulder, this is my partner, Dana Scully. We're with the Bureau. 
We'd like to see Kevin Brighton if at all possible."

The rubinesque, blonde nurse in charge shook her head. "Afraid 
not. Only next of kin allowed in the ICU. He's in bad shape, folks. 
I doubt any visit from the feds, no matter what the reason, will 
improve his health. I can, however, call his doctor if you want."

"No, that won't be necessary. Thanks." Mulder produced a card 
from his inner suit coat pocket. "As soon as he's allowed general 
visitors, or if his situation changes, could you give me a call."

The nurse took the card, frowning at the neat typefaced letters. 
"Can I ask you what this is about?"

"It's an active case." Mulder offered an apologetic smile.

Scully turned, preparing to return to the elevator when she saw 
the cowboy from yesterday afternoon step off the convayence. 
At his side was a slight woman in a shapless shift, a black, spanish 
shawl over her head, most likely the housekeeper. They seemed 
to ignore the agents as they walked past, and through the doors 
of the ICU.

"Excuse me, are they Mr. Brighton's next of kin?" Scully asked 
the still sour faced nurse.

"That's right. Friends, actually. I understand he doesn't have any 
family left."

"Maybe we should stick around and talk to them." Mulder suggested, 
the frustration of their unproductive day starting to show on the lines 
around his face.

"Last time we talked to John Wayne, there, we didn't get very far." 
Scully crossed her arms.

"Yeah, but now he doesn't have a cow to hide behind." 

                                 X - x - X

The room was far from quiet. It wasn't even really a room, just 
a bed and monitors surrounded on two sides with white curtains 
to give the illusion of privacy.

Kevin Brighton looked ghostly pale, the lines on his face, which 
had shown such character before, now made him look twice his 
age. His breathing was a hissing rush as the resperator aided his 
lungs.

Sarah removed the shawl she had draped over her head and 
gently took hold of her father's hand.

"Daddy?" She felt the tears spill hotly down her cheeks. Partly 
in relief that he still lived, partly in grief that such a vital, 
energetic man could be brought so low. "Daddy, we're here."

Kevin's eyes flickered open. His gaze was glassy and Sarah 
wasn't sure he was truly aware. At least until they fell on her 
face, and tears of his own fell down Kevin's weather beaten 
temples.

His eyes traced from her face, over her shoulder to the familiar 
form of Lyle.

Lyle's features shifted, flowing as if liquid, into another, rougher, face.

Drogan moved silently to the other side of the bed and took 
Kevin's other hand.

"All will be well." He assured the man who had gifted his beloved 
with life. Closing his eyes, Drogan felt the blood flowing through 
Kevin's veins, allowed his conciousness to follow it's twisted pathways 
as it nourished each cell and at last coursed through a heart with 
damaged tissues.

With an effort he began to regenerate and repair.

Sarah stroked her father's forehead, her attention slipping from 
him, to Drogan, to the hall over her shoulder. Once Drogan was 
done, they would have to move quickly.

Kevin felt a familair warmth spread through him, and his medicated 
and far from lucid mind felt his past overlapping with his present.

                                 -----------

THE LAZY B RANCH
7 YEARS AGO

Lyle spat into the coals then continued to chew his tobacco with 
little outward sign. He turned the brand over in the coals, waiting 
for it to achieve the perfect brightness before pulling it out.

Kevin secured the rope around the legs of the steer before them. 
He'd sent the other hands with the rest of the non-dairy cattle to 
the north pasture. He wanted to teach Drogan how to do this, himself.

Lyle was the only non family member to know all about Drogan. 
Kevin never kept secrets from his foreman and rightly figured the 
man would be needed to train the alien on how to blend in with 
the other, rough and tumble cowboys. Lyle had taken the story 
and proof with the same stride as he took his morning piss. It 
appeared nothing in life could phase that man, ever.

"Now we want to place it high on his left rump, so it's visable." 
Kevin pointed to the spot as Drogan watched. The newcomer 
had watched three other steer be branded before this one. Now 
it was his turn. "Remember, no more than three seconds."

Lyle pulled the brand from the fire, satisfied at last, and handed it 
to Kevin, who passed it on to Drogan. 

Kevin leaned over the steer, helping to hold the animal down.

"Now would be a good time, before it cools." Kevin snapped.

Drogan deftly turned the brand so the humps of the B faced 
the right direction and applied it to the steer.

Mayhem. The ropes snapped the the steer twisted, mooing out 
its distress as it flailed, powerful legs kicking.

Kevin rolled clear, then found his eyes stinging, his throat closing... 
he couldn't breathe! He clawed at his throat, his vision growing 
blurry as he noticed Drogan pick himself up from the ground. 
Something green oozed and fizzled from above the alien's right eye. 

Drogan shook his head as though to clear it and looked around, 
momentarily confused. He came to himself quickly.

"No! Lyle, stay there. We are fortunate to be in the open." 
Drogan's voice boomed with a command Kevin had not heard in 
it before.  Drogan tore off his plaid work shirt and wiped the 
stuff from his head, then loomed over Kevin.

"Try to relax." 

Easy for him to say. Agony was not ripping through his vains. 
Kevin's eyes finally swelled shut and he cursed his own stupidity. 
He'd been warned hadn't he.

He hoped Lyle would look after Sarah.

Warmth flowed through him. Slowly, the agony faded to a dull 
ache. Kevin found he could choke in some air, its sweet coolness 
blessing his lungs. His head ceased to hum and spin.

Able to crack his eyes open a little he could make out Sarah 
running across the field from the house. 

With supreeme effort he tried to warn her back. 

Drogan did it. "Sarah NO! Stay were you are. I am interveaning."

Soon Lyle was convinced he would live. He felt drained and 
his joints ached. His thraot felt as if he'd swallowed a cactus, 
and his eyes were powerful sore, but he'd live.

The damn steer hadn't been as fortunate. The animal was frozen 
in a rictus of agony. 

Kevin looked at the animal and realized, with horror, that could 
have been him. 

"If we had been inside, I could have done nothing. That in our 
blood which your people find toxic would have been too concentrated."

Kevin looked at Drogan with wary respect. He did not, could not, 
blame the man for this. It was an accident. But he had been 
unaware that Drogan could do... well... whatever it was he had 
just done.

Sarah had been approaching slowly, and finally knelt beside her 
father. She never could take orders.

"What happened?"

Lyle spoke up coming over from the fire, where he had stayed. 
"Damn cow broke free, kicked yer friend. He wasn't foolin' none 
when he said that blood a' his was deadly." 

Kevin found he couldn't speak due to the abrasive feeling in his 
throat.

Sarah clasped her father's hand to her chest with one hand, and 
reached out to touch the rapidly fading bruise over Drogan's eye.

Drogan turned away. There was guilt in his eyes. He looked 
pale and shaken, there was a sheen of perspiration on his skin, 
and Kevin could detect a slight tremor to his frame. Whatever 
he had done, it had taken a lot out of their new friend.

                                 ---------

The fog lifted, and Kevin felt strength returning.

Sarah and Drogan stood over him. It felt like daja vu.

He couldn't speak around the tube that was making him gag. 

"Relax, dad. You're okay." Sarah bent and kissed his forehead. 
She warily eyed the monitors as the first alarm went off.  His s
uddenly strengthened heartbeat and respiration setting off the machines.

"We have to go. We'll try to stick around some. You won't be 
here much longer." 

"Sir." Drogan nodded to him, then both of them slipped between 
the curtains that served as walls.

Once clear of the room, as nurses arrived to check the alarms, 
Sarah stripped off the baggy dress, revealing  OR scrubs. She 
rolled the pant legs down and pulled the OR cap from her pocket, 
placing it over her hair. 

Drogan changed, taking on the appearence of a doctor they had 
passed on their way in. He dropped the duster he had worn in, 
to reveal a lab coat. 

Sarah shoved the discarded clothing in the nearest biohazard 
container and they slipped back down the hall.

end part 8...