(The X-Files was created by Chris Carter. So I don't own it or the characters within.)

The X-Files


Please don't tell me this is what my future in the FBI has come to, thought Agent Dana Scully as the elevator doors slid open and she stepped out into the basement of the J. Edgar Hoover building. Please don't tell me that for the next however many years; I'm going to be investigating X-files.

The idea of her, Agent Scully, working on the X-files was ridiculous. She should be out there, in the field, not working with some cuckoo agent whose main purpose in life is proving the existence of aliens. What a waste of a good agent.

But here she was, standing at the door of Fox Mulder's office. It was real. This was all really happening. And even though she thought it a waste, she was determined to give this new assignment her all. Nothing less could be expected from Agent Scully.

She knocked on the door of the office and entered without invitation.

"Sorry, nobody in here but the FBI's most unwanted," Came the voice from inside the room.

The first thing that caught Scully's eye was a poster of a UFO hovering above some trees with the words "I WANT TO BELIEVE" written underneath. The poster was hung on the wall amid other photos of flying saucers. In fact, the entire wall was covered in note cards, photos, and computer printouts – each having to do with UFO's and ET's.

I'm in Hell, thought Scully morosely.

A man was hunkered over a light box, his back turned to Scully. This was obviously the enigmatic Agent Mulder.

"Agent Mulder, I'm Dana Scully. I've been assigned to work with you."

Agent Mulder stopped what he was doing and turned to his new partner. He shook her hand in a firm grip. "Oh, isn't it nice to be suddenly so highly regarded?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He abruptly let go of Scully's hand and turned back to his light box. "So who'd you tick off to get stuck with this detail, Scully?"

Scully stiffened. So this was Agent Mulder's idea of a warm greeting? Well, so be it. She could play at this game too. "Actually, I'm looking forward to working with you." It was a lie of course. But the words flowed so effortlessly and they sounded so sincere that anybody could be fooled. "I've heard a lot about you."

That seemed to get Mulder's attention. He turned back to Scully, a sly grin on his face. "Oh, really? I was under the impression that you were sent to spy on me."

Yes, Scully was in Hell.

But as the years progressed, things got better. Mulder, once an embarrassment to the FBI, gained a degree of respect from his peers by working with Scully. And Scully herself came to appreciate Mulder's passion and determined spirit.

They started off somewhat at odds, two talented FBI agents from different worlds, each not fully trusting the other. But with each X-file case investigated, they grew closer. From strangers, to colleagues, from friends to eventual lovers – Dana Scully and Fox Mulder's relationship had evolved into one of complete trust and respect.

That strong bond helped the two agents survive many an obstacle. But how would they fare against the end of the world?

Mount Weather, Virginia

December 22, 2011

9:30 pm

In a sub-basement level of the Mount Weather governmental instillation, seven men gathered to hear a very important announcement. The men ranged in age from early twenties to late sixties. Each was immaculately dressed in crisp dark suits and somber ties. Upon their arrival at the instillation, they had been escorted down into the sub-levels and led into a lavishly furnished room. The men made idle chitchat amongst themselves while they waited for the leader to arrive.

Five minutes later, the door to the room opened and a woman entered. She was of Hispanic descent, with rich, creamy skin and dark eyes and hair. She was dressed conservatively in a navy pantsuit and simple gold earrings. From the way she carried herself and the way she entered the room – fast and with purpose – it was obvious that this woman was a force to be reckoned with.

"Gentlemen, I'm pleased to finally meet you all," the woman said. Her voice was deep and powerful and carried with it a hint of an accent. "My name is Dona Lola. I'm the head of this little enterprise." She chuckled softly to herself and sat in a chair facing the others. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you that we are in the final stages of the preparation process. In a matter of mere months, project End Game will commence."

The expressions on the men's faces did not change. They knew what was coming. The date of the final invasion was exactly one year away. That fact was terrifying, but it was also rewarding that decade's worth of long, hard work was coming to fruition.

Dona Lola crossed her legs. "We are in the final stages now," she said. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at each man individually. "Whatever happens, whatever unexpected events that might occur between now and then cannot change this planet's destiny. Too much has been accomplished for us to trip up now. So relax, gentlemen. Nothing can stop us."

30 Miles East of Billings, Montana

2:18 am

Six Months Later

Fox Mulder put his white, unmarked van in park and reached into his back pants pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. He rechecked the coordinates that were listed on the paper for the hundredth time and checked them against the GPS system in the van. Yes, everything matched up. This was the location.

The dark two-story building ahead certainly didn't look like an alien invasion preparation facility. According to the sign out front, it was a computer manufacturing plant. But if there was one thing Mulder had learned from all his years working on the x-files, it was not to take things at face value.

The night air was chilly as he exited the van. He left the driver's side door open. Closing it would create a noise and might bring unwanted attention. The parking lot and the building itself looked dark and empty, but there was that thing about not taking things at face value.

Mulder calmly walked across the deserted parking lot and climbed up a small hill at the back. Crouching low amongst the bushes, he looked at the piece of paper again. These were the coordinates. This was the location. These were facts, but what if there was some mistake? What if that building actually was a computer plant and not a colonization preparation facility? Mulder had to be sure for what he was about to do. He had no idea who had sent him the paper with this building's location on it. And how had the mystery person found him in the first place? He, along with Scully, had been in hiding ever since his "trial" ten years ago. They had been very careful about covering their tracks – moving frequently, limiting contact with other people, using fake names. It was hard to believe that somebody had found them. But it was true. The paper with the coordinates on it was found taped onto Mulder and Scully's hotel room door one morning with no explanation.

Mulder didn't take the note's information too seriously at first. Another lesson learned on the X-files was to trust no one. But time was running out. The date of the final alien invasion was December 22, 2012 – a few months away. And information regarding the alien's colonization plans was nonexistent. Had Mulder still been in the FBI, things might be different. But the X-files had been permanently closed after the trial, so even that wasn't certain.

So in the end, he had no choice but to go out on a limb and trust a stranger.

Sighing, Mulder reached into his other pocket and withdrew a small metal box with a series of buttons and switches on the front. Without another thought, he flipped one of the switches.

Instantly, the 25 pounds of C4 in the van exploded. A massive wall of flame took out the façade of the building. Billowing pillars of fire, fueled by the several gallons' worth of gasoline stored in the van, consumed the entire complex.

Mulder turned his back to the smoldering ruins and fled. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Through a thick forest, across a shallow creek, he eventually came to a four-lane highway. And there, parked in a ditch at the edge of the woods, was the getaway vehicle, a 2009 black Ford. He got into the car and took off down the highway, careful to observe the speed limit. Being stopped by a highway patrolman wouldn't be a good thing, not with reports of the burning "computer plant" coming in over police radio. Better safe than sorry. That wasn't a lesson learned in the X-files. It was just common sense.

The going was slow, but eventually the "Budget Motel" with its pink stone walls came into view and Mulder parked the Ford in the weed-choked parking lot. He got out and made his way to room 1-8. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching him before he knocked. When he felt the coast was clear, he entered the dingy motel room.

The word "dingy" didn't do the room justice. Seedy? Grimy? Those were more appropriate words. The faded pink plaster walls were chipped and broken in places and the dark green carpet was stiff with dust. The only light in the room came from a naked bulb hanging from the ceiling. The lamps over the two beds didn't work. The artwork was bolted to the walls and the sole window in the room was nailed shut, which was bad since the place was poorly ventilated. Yes, the room was a disaster except for one thing. The only redeeming quality it possessed was that Dana Scully was inside.

She was sitting on the edge of the smelly bed, nibbling on some cheese and cracker. When she heard the door open, she put the food down and ran to Mulder, wrapping him in her arms. "You're back. You're back."

Mulder smiled. "I've only been gone for a few hours."

Scully said nothing. She gave him a quick kiss on the check and buried her head in his chest. Mulder stroked her red hair, guilt swimming to the surface of his emotions. Scully had been through so much thanks to him. First his abduction, then she had found out she was pregnant. Months later, he had been returned – but near death. After his recovery, Scully had given birth to their son. And as soon as that happened, Mulder was off in hiding, leaving Scully alone for a year. During that year, she faced some hard decisions and eventually she gave up William, their son, for adoption.

The guilt Mulder felt for putting her through all that was almost overwhelming sometimes. Scully never once blamed him, never even talked about it for that matter, but that made it worse.

"So it's over with?" Scully asked as she pulled away from him.

"Yeah. It's nothing but ash by now."

"So in addition to being fugitives, we're terrorists now."

There it was again. Guilt. "We're going to have to move out," Mulder said.

"I'll start packing."

Scully moved to get what little belongings they had together organized, but Mulder stopped her. He took her hand and kissed it. Her bright blue eyes locked onto his and he couldn't help but marvel at her beauty. Here he was, nearly 51 years old, with more than a couple gray hairs and a starting-to-recede-hairline. And there was Scully, who was 48 years old but didn't look a day over 35. Her skin was free of any blemishes or wrinkles, her hair was still a fiery red color and her ocean blue eyes still sparkled with a zest only the young seemed to possess.

"I've got to pack," Scully said gently.

"It can wait," Mulder replied as he linked his arms around her back. "It can wait."