• Fugitive A Doctor Who/X-Files Crossover 6 Dec 1994 Part 1

    From Christian Vondenstein@RICKSBBS to All on Mon Oct 12 06:27:19 2026
    From netnews.upenn.edu!blue.seas.upenn.edu!cliff Tue Dec 6 13:35:34 1994
    Path: netnews.upenn.edu!blue.seas.upenn.edu!cliff
    From: cliff@blue.seas.upenn.edu (Cliff K Chen)
    Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
    Subject: "Fugitive" DrWho/XFiles X-Over (1/3)
    Date: 6 Dec 1994 18:09:55 GMT
    Organization: University of Pennsylvania
    Lines: 399
    Message-ID: <3c29dj$302@netnews.upenn.edu>
    NNTP-Posting-Host: blue.seas.upenn.edu

    Hi, everyone,
    I'm reposting this from alt.drwho.creative, since the author has
    no access to this newsgroup. So comments should be sent to him at the
    address in the story, not to me.
    He wants everyone to be aware that he's a writer in the UK (ergo
    he's probably only seen the first half of season 1) with more experience writing Dr. Who than with X-Files. This is his first X-Files story.

    Cliff
    cliff@eniac.seas.upenn.edu

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------
    Doctor Who belongs to the BBC and X-Files belongs to someone else blah blah blah...

    Fugitive
    A Doctor Who/X-Files Crossover
    by Richard Salter
    richs@cogs.susx.ac.uk
    Part 1

    She ran for her life. She could hear them coming after her, the sound
    of the dogs barking and yelping, hungry for the kill, eager to find
    the source of the scent that aggravated their sensitive nostrils and
    drove them into a frenzy of activity. She could also clearly
    distinguish the sounds the men made, yelling orders and shouting
    locations to each other.
    The dark did little to inhibit her flight, though she guessed that
    it would work against her pursuers. They had to have found the body by
    now, it would explain their eagerness to find the culprit. She hadn't
    intended to kill him but he had threatened the little ones.
    The standard issue combat rifle slammed painfully into her upper
    solaris quartex as she scrambled up and over the featureless wall that
    was twice her height. She landed lightly on the other side, like a cat
    jumping from a roof. Glancing about, she identified a small rodent,
    crawling over the remains of some convenience food packaging, as well
    as several billion bacteria vainly attempting to break down the non-
    degradable material.
    She moved off quickly, smoothly accelerating until she had covered
    the same distance as the small insect that followed her, vainly trying
    to buzz around her head, in half the time. The insect eventually
    caught up with her and began to circumnavigate the wide dome of her
    skull.
    She creased the sides of her face in pleasure. The creatures would
    have to be really good to catch her. With a slightly less pleased
    expression she realised it was just a matter of time before someone
    did.
    She sped off into the night.

    It was not turning out to be a good day. FBI Special Agent Dana Scully
    had known this from the moment she had set foot outside her front door
    that morning. For a start it was pouring with rain outside, and the
    puddle Dana had stepped in as she'd left home had sparked off warning
    bells about this day. This was the kind of Wednesday that was
    conspired against you from its inception. Somebody very high up had
    picked today as one she should never have got out of bed for.
    Upon her late arrival at the office that morning - after her car
    had broken down and she had had to call someone out to restart it -
    she had been handed a memo to let her know her medical checkup was
    due. Dana hated medical checkups. All that probing, all those intimate questions, the humiliation of it all. She mused that she would rather
    spend three solid hours talking with Harry, the man she'd met at her
    favourite bar last night, and had entirely failed to fall desperately
    in love with.
    Shaking memories of drawling speeches about plumbing and the state
    of today's U-bends from her mind, Dana returned her attention to the
    next piece of bad news that constituted a week that would go down in
    history as one of the low points in her life. She glanced once again
    at the paper clutched in her hand and shook her head slowly, muttering
    to herself as she descended the staircase.
    As she passed an interview room she caught sight of her own
    reflection in the observation window. God, what a sight. Her usually immaculate, shoulder length, flame red hair was now bedraggled and
    darkened with water. She vainly tried to brush some of the dampness
    from her clothing, but it was a wasted attempt.
    Great. Not only was she going to have to present her 'partner' with
    exactly the evidence he had been searching for, she was going to have
    to do it looking like a drowned rat.
    She reached her destination, and knocked on the door.
    "Come!" came the reply. Setting her shoulders and running a hand
    through her damp hair, she turned the handle and walked in.
    Fox Mulder was a strange man. She knew that. Working with him for
    however many months it was now had taught her never to try and predict
    what he would try and do next. He was known throughout the Bureau as
    'Spooky' Mulder, because of his obsession with all things paranormal,
    and the X-Files: a collection of inexplicable mysteries relegated to
    the dusty vaults of unsolved cases. During her time assigned to
    assisting him in his often bizarre investigations, Scully had seen
    things that would make the most hardened sceptic think again. Scully
    was a particularly tough sceptic.
    None of her experiences of this strange agent prepared her for the
    sight that greeted her upon entering his office.
    Mulder was an average looking man, with dark, slightly greying
    hair, and an innocent, wide-eyed expression. He was slightly taller
    than her, but made less of an impact on the eye. Everything about him
    was understated, and he revelled in blending into the background;
    being the observer.
    He smiled at her. "Is it raining?" he asked without a trace of
    sarcasm, in a voice that suggested total disinterest in the simple,
    explainable physics of water falling from the sky.
    She ignored him. She hadn't quite been able to come to terms with
    the fact that he was standing in the middle of the room, his feet
    planted squarely on the floor with his eyes closed and his hands
    outstretched to the sides. He was surrounded by a circle of lit
    candles and had drawn a pentagram on the floor with a piece of
    discarded chalk.
    "What are you doing?" She wished she hadn't asked the moment the
    words had left her mouth.
    With a grunt, Mulder dropped his arms and opened his eyes. "I was
    simply trying a new method of meditation Scully," he explained. "You
    should try it sometime."
    "Aren't you supposed to be working?"
    "I am working."
    Dana couldn't quite believe she was having this conversation. She
    decided to get down to business. "I have something that might interest
    you."
    He raised an eyebrow, but showed no other reaction.
    She sighed. He was in one of his pensive moods. Never mind. "The
    British police force have arrested someone you might be interested in.
    They're holding him in London and you and I have been given clearance
    to go and interview him."
    "Who, Scully? Who are you talking about?"
    "A man who calls himself, 'The Doctor'."
    Mulder's face exploded with curiosity. "The Doctor!" he exclaimed.
    "They've caught him?"
    "That's what it says here."
    "Any photo, description? No," Mulder caught himself, "that probably
    wouldn't help. Scully, do you know who this man is?"
    "I had an idea you might be interested, but I can't say I know much
    about him."
    "A man known as the Doctor has cropped up so many times during
    history I've lost count."
    "I take it there's an X-File?" Scully knew the answer to that one
    even before Mulder had launched himself at a battered filing cabinet
    standing in the corner. He threw it open and pulled out a file so
    thick it was in danger of spilling its contents all over the floor. He
    took it over to his desk, clearing away various reports, documents,
    files, computer disks and photographs to make way for the tremendous
    bulk that landed in their wake.
    He opened the file, breathlessly sifting through the information
    stored within. "Y'see Scully, in the past intelligence agents have
    made the mistake of separating all the occurrences of the Doctor's
    name into different files according to the way he looks."
    Scully leaned over the file, interested despite herself. "Why? How
    many of them are there?"
    "I've details and accounts on at least six different men, all
    calling themselves the Doctor, and there are probably more."
    "But who are they?"
    "He, Scully. He is a man, or an alien or whatever, who keeps
    cropping up at times of crisis, helping out and then disappearing
    again." He pulled out a bunch of papers from the main group, these all
    stamped with the acronym 'UNIT' on them. "A man called the Doctor
    worked for UNIT. You've heard of them?"
    The question took her by surprise for a moment, before she
    answered, "Yes, yes of course. United Nations Intelligence Taskforce."
    "Well, he worked as an unpaid scientific advisor for the British
    division from 1976 to 1981, and helped out in situations that have
    remained highly classified since that time. But, and this is the
    important part, he is said by some people I've interviewed to have
    changed into a different man in 1980."
    "Changed?"
    "One day he was a tall, elegantly dressed white haired man, the
    next a flamboyant, tall man with dark, curly hair and a different
    face, not to mention dress sense."
    Scully brushed back a strand of damp hair that fell in front of her
    face and frowned at him. "A replacement surely?"
    "Then what happened to the white haired man? Why is there still the
    police box connection?"
    "The what?"
    But Mulder was already pulling out other files. "1981," he said. "A
    young, blond haired man helped recover the crew of a missing Concorde
    aircraft. The crew later said they had travelled backwards in time.
    1986, a white haired old man arrived at the International Space
    Command Antarctic tracking station and helped avert an invasion of
    Cybernetic men..."
    "Mulder, you're talking rubbish. You don't have any proof except
    for garbled reports from a bunch of half insane people."
    "But there are consistencies, Scully. There are some elements which
    are always constant. That's why I must talk to him. I must see if I'm
    right."
    Dana breathed a heavy sigh. "I've already booked the flight."

    Ace padded out into the console room, bare, wet feet slapping on the
    cold, white floor. She pulled her towel more tightly around her for
    warmth, and wandered over to the mushroom shaped console that sprouted
    from the centre of the bright, white room with its roundelled walls.
    She reached out and twisted a dial on the console and smiled
    contentedly as she felt a noticeable rise in the room temperature.
    Something on the scanner screen caught her eye, and she looked up
    suddenly, nearly letting the towel drop to the floor. All she could
    see was the trees beyond, with no movement other than the wind
    rustling the foliage.
    "If you must walk around the TARDIS half naked, at least make sure
    nobody else is around," came another female voice from behind her.
    Ace gripped her towel more tightly and grinned sheepishly at
    Professor Bernice Summerfield. "I'm glad you're not the Doctor," she
    quipped as she padded past her companion and through into the corridor
    beyond the inner door.
    "I doubt he'd even notice. Enjoy your bath?" she asked pleasantly.
    Ace nodded. "Any word from his royal highness?"
    Bernice shook her head. "Nothing. Not since he disappeared
    yesterday." She raised an eyebrow. "You're not worried are you?"
    Ace shrugged. "No, not really. He can look after himself. He's just
    very good at getting himself into trouble."
    "Well why don't you get dressed, and we'll go look for him."
    Ace smiled. "No hurry," she said, and headed for her room.

    Dana Scully put down the umpteenth document and gazed out at the wing
    of the Boeing through the tiny portal. Mulder sat next to her, eyes
    closed, seemingly asleep. She had to admit he had a point. As bizarre
    as it seemed, all six of these men seemed to be connected. Apart from
    their collective name, obviously a codename, each Doctor had at one
    time or another been associated with a Police Public Call Box that had
    been described as everything from a storage cupboard to an odd curio
    to a time travelling space ship. Other recurring phrases included the
    mention of time travel, alleged alien invasions and predominantly
    female companions. Scully's mind conjured up images of a man who
    tricked young women into his police box whilst distracting everyone
    else with talk of alien invasions, having his way with them and then disappearing, only to turn up again later with a different face.
    Her musings were interrupted by a Flight attendant offering her a
    drink. She asked for a coffee - she didn't fly too well on alcohol -
    and returned her attention to the setting sun casting a red glow over
    the tops of the clouds. She was intrigued by the idea of this Doctor,
    and was most eager to meet him, if only to explain who he and the
    other men were, and what they're operation was. Anything to stop
    Mulder from getting insufferably smug.

    "Checkmate!" Bernice exclaimed triumphantly.
    Ace snorted derisively. "Never was any good at this," she lamented.
    Chess was a game of prediction, cunning and manipulation, traits more
    akin to the Doctor rather than herself. She preferred games which
    involved blasters, like Dalek hunting for example.
    "Another game?" Bernice asked.
    Ace shook her head. "I'm bored of waiting for him, Benny," she
    admitted. "I reckon he's in trouble."
    Bernice rolled one of Ace's lost knights in her palms. "He said
    he'd be a while. I'm sure he's alright."
    Ace wasn't convinced. "I'm going after him. Coming?"
    The archaeologist shook her head. "I have some reading to do. I'm
    going to ask the Doctor to take me to the Farrel system sometime.
    There's a wonderful dig going on there two hundred years from now and
    I've always wanted to be there when they unearth the Crystalline
    Tepherus..." Her voice trailed away as she became lost in her private
    thoughts.
    "Suit yourself." Ace stood up and walked out.
    Upon reaching her room, Ace strapped on her wrist computer, buckled
    on her belt and blaster and checked herself in the mirror. She was
    glad she'd shed those extra pounds during her time in Space Fleet; she
    looked damn good in jeans and T-shirt as a result. Shame she couldn't
    take her body-armour: it might raise a few eyebrows. It was a risk
    taking the blaster, but she refused to be without it. Looking in her
    wardrobe, she eventually selected a black, bomber jacket with her name emblazoned on the back.
    "Jesus," she whispered to herself, examining the garment for moth-
    attacks. "Now there's a blast from the past." She slipped into the
    jacket. It was like welcoming back an old friend. She abandoned the
    holster, favouring the wide inside pockets of the jacket which served
    to conceal her blaster.
    Ready for action, Ace strode from her room, picking up her backpack
    as she went. She said goodbye to Bernice and left the security of the
    TARDIS.

    "Lucky you people got here so quickly, we've been ordered to release
    him."
    Dana smiled gratefully as the guard opened the door that led down
    to the cells for her. He was middle-aged, with a fair spread around
    the midriff. He wore the uniform of the English police force, and Dana
    found it a refreshing change that there was no gun hanging from his
    belt.
    "Who by?" Mulder asked, his eyes flitting around for anything out
    of the ordinary.
    "UNIT," the guard replied in his thick London accent.
    Scully raised an enquiring eyebrow. "They're still operating?"
    "Not really. The command came from a Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart."
    The name rang a bell for Scully. She'd read something about this
    man and his connection with the Doctor in the X-Files. She glanced at
    Mulder and could tell that the name confirmed things for him.
    "What's he doing here?" Scully asked the guard.
    "You can ask him yourself," he said, coming to a halt outside one
    cell.
    Scully had been expecting someone impressive looking. She was
    disappointed.
    In the centre of the cell, sitting cross-legged on a stool, was a
    little man in a cream linen suit, white silk shirt and checked
    trousers. His face was obscured by a battered white fedora with a
    patterned hat band, making him look like some sort of cross between a
    private eye and a garden gnome.
    He seemed totally unremarkable until he lifted his head to greet
    them. It wasn't his lined owl-like face, nor his slightly pouting
    mouth that set him apart from a crowd. Rather it was his incredible
    eyes. It was difficult to specify any one colour they might be. They
    were deep pools of fiery intelligence that took her breath away. There
    was a quality to those eyes that would make her tell him anything he
    might want to know - should he ask. There was something else too, a
    tinge of sadness, regret, as if there were some heavy burden on his
    shoulders.
    He smiled and his face lit up like a clown's. "Company!" he said
    happily. "How nice." His accent was hard for Dana to place. Was it
    Irish? Scottish? She wasn't too familiar with European accents.
    When the guard opened the cell door, the Doctor made no move to
    escape. He simply continued to beam at Mulder and Scully as they
    entered.
    "If you need anything just yell," the guard told them and ambled
    off.
    Mulder came forward, hand outstretched. "Agent Fox Mulder," he
    said, "FBI. This is Special Agent Dana Scully." She nodded. "A
    pleasure to meet you at last, Doctor," he added.
    The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You know of me?"
    "You certainly get around," Mulder told him. "I've read a great
    deal about you."
    "So have I," Dana interjected. "And I can't say I believe much of
    it."
    The Doctor stood up, smiling ingratiatingly at her. "I'm sure my
    role in any... strange... occurrences, is purely coincidental."
    Mulder was not to be put off. "I don't believe that, Doctor. If I
    may, I'd like to ask you some questions about some unexplained
    mysteries?"
    "Of course," he said, turning his back to them and regarding the
    far wall with sudden interest.
    Mulder reached into his jacket pocket for his notebook, and
    motioned for Scully to take the weighty X-File from her brief-case.
    "My my," the Doctor congratulated them, looking at them over his
    shoulder, "you have been busy. Is all that on me?"
    "There's some hard evidence, some wild speculation and some strange reports," Mulder explained, taking the file from Scully and opening
    it.
    There was a more immediate question at the forefront of Scully's
    mind however. "May I ask why you've been arrested, Doctor?" she asked, wondering what possible harm this little man could have done to
    anyone.
    The Doctor's reply was straightforward as he walked over to the
    side wall, and Scully couldn't detect any trace of a lie or
    fabrication in his account, despite its fantastic content.
    "I was found near to the body of a man who had been killed by a
    concentrated beam of energy, emitted from a multiple band phase
    rifle." He paused, peering out through the bars of the cell, watching
    the feet of the people as they passed by on the street above. "He was
    dead of course, there aren't many who can stand one of those on a kill
    setting. I had simply confirmed my suspicions before heading back when
    the esteemed ranks of the Metropolitan Police Force showed up." He
    turned to them and scratched his nose thoughtfully. "Well of course
    they had to arrest me since I couldn't explain who I was. Only doing
    their job."
    Scully rewound the monologue in her mind. "Multiple band phase
    rifle?" she repeated quizzically.
    Mulder pre-empted the Doctor. "An energy weapon. Is it alien?"
    "If you mean 'not of this Earth' then yes, certainly."
    "Now wait a minute..." Scully began.
    "Then where did it come from?"
    "It's probably one of the rifles used by the Ragamon Dynasty. I
    believe a scout ship landed here not so long ago, your time."
    Scully was having none of it. "Excuse me!"
    "Our time?"
    "Well time is relative, Agent Mulder."
    "I can't believe I'm hearing this."
    Mulder's eyes had glazed over. He was in his own private heaven.
    "Where's Ragamon?" he asked, the questions coming automatically, his
    mind probably filing away the obviously useless information and
    analysing it whilst his conscious brain left his head to take a stroll
    by the lapping waters of insanity.
    "In the Datrish system. Quite a way away from here, but then the
    Ragamon perfected the hyperdrive several centuries ago, relatively."
    "That's it," Scully snapped. These two had been born for each
    other, and she'd heard enough to convince her that she didn't want
    anything more to do with either of them. She walked to the bars and
    banged a fist on them. The guard arrived and opened the door for her.
    "I'll leave you two to it," she said and left the cell.
    As they walked down the corridor, Scully asked the guard where the
    body of the victim was stored.
    Before he could answer, Scully was deafened by an almighty
    explosion from behind her. The earth-shattering blast blew great
    clouds of brick dust into the corridor and filled the place with smoke
    and debris.
    Scully dropped and spun, bringing her gun to bear on the Doctor's
    cell. The guard had thrown himself in the opposite direction.
    "Mulder?" Scully called, coughing to rid her lungs of the debris.
    No reply.
    As the dust settled, Scully moved closer to the cell. The bars were
    still intact, though the door had sprung open. A gaping hole now
    existed where the top of the far wall had once stood, a rope ladder
    extending down into the cell from the street level above. Mulder was
    crouched in one corner with his hands clamped over his head. Of the
    Doctor there was no sign.
    "How the...?" she let the question fade away as Mulder climbed
    shakily to his feet.
    "What hit me?" he asked, brushing the fallen debris from his
    clothes and hair.
    Scully moved over to the gaping hole in the wall and hurriedly
    climbed up the ladder. On the street above her senses were assailed
    with sirens and screaming people running this way and that. Of the
    Doctor there was no sign.
    Mulder climbed up beside her. "He's gone," she told him simply.
    "Scully," Mulder said, the excitement in his voice undampened by
    the explosion and the debris he was forced to cough from his lungs. "I
    have to take a look at that body!"
    Dana let out a deep sigh. It was going to be another long day.

    [End Part 1]

    From netnews.upenn.edu!blue.seas.upenn.edu!cliff Tue Dec 6 13:35:34 1994
    Path: netnews.upenn.edu!blue.seas.upenn.edu!cliff
    From: cliff@blue.seas.upenn.edu (Cliff K Chen)
    Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
    Subject: "Fugitive" DrWho/XFiles X-Over (2/3)
    Date: 6 Dec 1994 18:10:46 GMT
    Organization: University of Pennsylvania
    Lines: 266
    Message-ID: <3c29f6$345@netnews.upenn.edu>
    NNTP-Posting-Host: blue.seas.upenn.edu

    Fugitive -- Part 2
    by Richard Salter

    "What did you do that for?!" the Doctor screamed without actually
    shouting.
    "I got you out didn't I?" Ace replied, her eyes surveying the
    terrain ahead from their vantage point behind a pile of boxes.
    The Doctor was seething with anger. "I didn't need rescuing!"
    She glanced at him and noticed his attempts to shake the brick dust
    from his person had failed. He resembled a character from Scooby Doo
    who had fallen into a vat of flour and had decided this would be a
    cunning way to scare off the local populace.
    "I thought your spell in Space Fleet had cured you of your fixation
    with things that make loud bangs and cause lots of damage!"
    "Naaaaah," she sneered sarcastically. "It just went on hold. Come
    on, we have to go."
    She rose into a crouching position, took hold of the Doctor's
    sleeve and moved off. He grumbled but offered no resistance. "I have
    to find whoever killed that man I found," he explained lamely.
    "All in good time, Doctor," Ace insisted. "All in good time."

    "Can you explain these marks, Scully?"
    She had to admit that she couldn't. When Mulder had insisted they
    head for the pathology lab, she'd been sceptical about what they would
    find there. And now here she was, staring at a dead body with a wound
    of a type she had never seen before. It was like some fused burn, but
    the *impact*, the *force* of the heat blast was incredible.
    "The shot entered his chest cavity and exploded outwards,
    practically cooking his major organs," the pathologist told them. He
    was a short, stout, weasel of a man in a white, blood-splattered coat
    and thick glasses. "Never seen anything like it."
    "Thank you," Mulder told him. "You've been very helpful." The short
    man nodded and moved away. Mulder turned to Scully. "Convinced yet?"
    Scully gave him a look of incredulity, "Convinced of what? That
    there's some guy on the loose with some sort of hi-tech stolen
    military equipment and a weird guy who's escaped from a police cell
    who could very well be one and the same person, I'm convinced. That
    there's anything way off the planet here, I think your evidence might
    be a bit lacking."
    Mulder's expression had remained reticent during her onslaught. Now
    he gave a shallow smile and said, "Well I am."
    "Good!" snapped Scully. "You stay here and chase your aliens. I'm
    going back to DC." She turned to go.
    "Wait!" Mulder called.
    Despite herself, she turned and fixed him with a stony glare.
    "What?"
    "I can prove it," he said. "There's one thing that's bound to
    convince you."
    As she said it she knew she was going to live to regret it. "All
    right Mulder, we'll keep playing your little game. But I warn you, one
    more piece of unmitigated, circumstantial, irrelevant 'evidence' and
    I'm gone."
    He smiled. "Trust me."

    "I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Scully lamented.
    "Do you ever stop complaining?" Mulder asked her as they picked
    their way through the brush and dead leaves that littered the ground
    of the park.
    "Only when I'm not being dragged through a wood in the wet and the
    cold." It seemed to be constantly freezing in this country. She could
    see why air conditioning was so scarce here. And as for the weather,
    well it never stopped raining. It had rained when they had arrived at
    Heathrow, it had rained on the way to the hotel, and it hadn't stopped
    raining since. They'd been searching for well over an hour now, and
    Scully was soaked through and decidedly fed up.
    "What are we looking for anyway?" she asked after a brief pause
    filled only with the crunch of their boots upon the foliage as they
    walked.
    "You'll know when we find it."
    "Great," mumbled Scully without much enthusiasm. She thrust her
    hands into the pockets of her raincoat and wished she'd brought some
    gloves. An umbrella wouldn't have gone amiss either. Why did she and
    Mulder always end up trudging through woods in bad light searching for
    things she didn't believe in anyway?
    "Just so you know, my report on this little escapade is likely to
    be highly critical of your methods and wasting of..." Her voice tailed
    off as they entered a small clearing. She stared open mouthed at the
    sight that confronted her, a million questions bursting into her head
    at once. What really riled her was that Mulder had been right.
    There, in the middle of the clearing, standing incongruously with
    its back against a wide oak tree was a British Police Public Call Box.
    A pile of leaves had blown up against the dark blue, panelled, double
    doors indicating that the box had stood here for some time. It was
    authentic right down to the lamp on top and the St. George's Cross on
    one of the panels.
    "I do not believe it," Scully admitted.
    "I'd say we found what we were looking for," Mulder said, stepping
    forward and boldly approaching the mysterious object. "Wouldn't you
    say that, Scully?"
    She followed him, scanning the surrounding area for evidence of how
    the box had been transported here. She found none. "There must be some explanation. These things were all over this country at one time."
    "At *one* time," Mulder repeated, stressing the past tense of the
    statement.
    "How did you know it would be here?"
    "Well," he said, running a hand against the surface of the door,
    "it made sense to land this thing away from houses, and this was the
    nearest park to where the dead body was found." His expression altered
    from a look of curiosity to one of surprise. "Feel it, Scully. It's
    alive."
    She snorted derisively, but placed a cold hand on one of the wooden
    panels. She recoiled, flashing Mulder a quizzical look before
    replacing her hand once more. There was definite vibration beneath her
    fingers, and the surface certainly didn't feel like wooden. "Is there
    some sort of electrical equipment in there?" she wondered aloud.
    "Only one way to find out." Mulder pushed against the door but it
    refused to yield. To Scully's surprise he raised a fist and banged it
    four times on the door. The sound seemed to reverberate around the
    inside of the box, as if the interior were some vast chasm.
    "What are you knocking for?" Scully asked. "Who's going to answer?"
    Mulder ignored her. "Hello!" he called loudly, directing his voice
    towards the box.
    That did it for Scully. He'd finally flipped this time. The box was
    big enough to hold at the most three people, and they were hardly
    likely to hang around in such cramped conditions waiting for two FBI
    agents to come knocking on the door.

    Bernice lifted her head with a start. She'd been so engrossed in the
    history of the Farrel system that she'd forgotten the passage of time.
    The noise had sounded like someone knocking on the TARDIS door. That
    meant Ace must be back, presumably without the Doctor or he would have
    just used his key.
    She put down her book and left the library, heading for the console
    room. Once there she operated the scanner and was presented with an
    image of a man and a woman, both in suits. The man was knocking on the
    door. She reached over the console and turned up the audio control.
    "I want to speak to the Doctor," the man was saying. "I'm Special
    Agent Fox Mulder, FBI. Open up please." His tone was pleading,
    imploring rather than commanding.
    "FBI," thought Bernice aloud to herself. "This is a bit out of
    their area." Still, what harm would it do to let them in? Maybe they
    would have news about Ace.

    Scully was just about to unleash a blistering attack detailing
    Mulder's obvious insanity when the Police Box door opened. To her
    surprise, a woman poked her head out from inside. She was slim, with a
    short black bob and intelligent eyes. She was probably in her early
    thirties, and when she spoke it was with a distinctly English accent.
    "Can I help you?" she asked politely.
    "Yes," Mulder replied quickly. It was as if he had quite expected
    her to be inside there. "I need to talk to the Doctor. Can we come
    in?"
    Scully stared at him. Did Mulder have a secret fetish for enclosed
    spaces? The idea of cramming three people into the box was not high on
    her list of things to do.
    The woman seemed to consider this for a moment. "He's not here at
    the moment," she said. "I suppose you could come in and wait for him,
    but be ready for a shock." She disappeared inside but left the door
    open for them.
    Mulder stepped inside, and with a moment's hesitation Scully
    followed.
    What she saw next took her breath away.
    The room into which she walked was impossibly large. Bright white
    light flooded her vision, in stark contrast to the dull grey of the
    outside world. She presumed the world was still outside; it was hard
    to tell exactly where they were.
    As her eyes adjusted to the light her attention was directed on a
    mushroom shaped, multi-faceted console standing alone in the middle of
    the room. The woman stood by it. She pulled a lever and Scully heard a
    noise behind her. Spinning round she was just in time to see two large
    double doors swing closed. Scully resisted the urge to run to them and
    try and prise them open in her desperation to escape.
    A million questions crowded into her brain, but Mulder got there
    first. He had been standing near the console, gazing about him like a
    child in a candy store and when he spoke it was with an intense
    eagerness for knowledge.
    "Welcome to the TARDIS, Scully, the Doctor's travelling machine,"
    he said matter-of-factly.
    The woman glared at him. "That's not what you're supposed to say,"
    she protested. "You're supposed to say 'Why is it bigger on the inside
    than on the outside?' or something."
    Scully was dimly aware of the double doors swinging open behind
    her, but she was too intent on trying to guess what Mulder had slipped
    into her food to turn around.
    "It's some form of dimensional transcendentalism isn't it?" Mulder
    asked the woman in reply.
    "Congratulations, Agent Mulder," came a voice from the doorway. The
    Doctor walked in, another, younger woman in tow. "I'm impressed."
    "I do my homework, Doctor," Mulder told him.
    "I'm sure you do. Allow me to introduce you to everyone." He
    indicated the woman by the console who had let them in. "That is
    Professor Bernice Summerfield, and this," he put an arm around the
    shoulders of the woman who had followed him into the TARDIS, "is Ace.
    She, er, rescued me from that cell."
    "Hi," said Ace sheepishly.
    "FBI Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully," Mulder said for
    the benefit of Ace and Bernice. "May I ask why you returned to Earth,
    Doctor?"
    Mulder received odd looks from the three women. "Returned to
    Earth?" Scully repeated. This was way out of her league. She'd seen
    some pretty strange things in her time with Mulder, but this was
    beyond all reasonable explanation.
    "Well, in this time zone," Mulder corrected himself. "You do travel
    in space and time don't you?"
    The Doctor withdrew his arm from Ace's shoulders and coughed
    modestly. "When the old girl lands me in the right place, yes." He
    crossed to the console, operating the door control and turning back to
    face them again. "As for what I'm doing here, I suppose I owe you an explanation."
    "And us," Ace added. "I'd quite like to know too."
    The Doctor removed his hat and placed it on top of a cyclindrical
    column standing vertical in the centre of the console. "Several days
    ago, an expedition from the Ragamon Dynasty..."
    "Your hypothesis was correct then," Mulder interrupted.
    The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"
    "About the energy weapon that killed that man."
    "Oh yes, yes I was. Well, this expedition landed here and sent out
    a survey team to assess whether or not the planet was suitable for
    inhabiting."
    "And was it?" Scully asked. She was now convinced that this
    experience was all drug induced, so she might as well enjoy it.
    "No. I don't think they'd realised how densely populated this
    planet is. So they left, for Mars probably."
    "Of course, Mars." Scully murmured.
    "Inadvertently it seems they left one of their number behind. I
    think they had to leave in a hurry."
    "So it was that one who killed the man with the energy weapon."
    "Correct, Agent Mulder."
    "How do you know all this?"
    "We saw it," Ace chipped in as she slammed a fresh clip into an
    advanced looking gun.
    "That's where we've been since I broke out of prison. I realised
    what it was, and it tied in with the reason I landed here, which was
    because in passing I noticed that the Ragamon were in the vicinity of
    the Sol system. I wanted to make sure their intentions were good."
    "So why did the Ragamon kill that man?" Bernice asked.
    The Doctor looked pensive for a moment. "I don't know," he admitted
    at last. "the Ragamon are dangerous, certainly, but they're not evil -
    they wouldn't kill for fun."
    "Maybe the dead guy threatened it," Ace suggested.
    "So what's our course of action?" Scully asked.
    Mulder took a step towards the Doctor. "I want a look at that
    creature," he implored the little man.
    The Doctor raised a hand, "Patience, Agent Mulder. I intend to find
    it again, and this time communicate with it. I want to offer it safe
    passage back to its ship before any more harm is done."
    Mulder nodded. "Seems reasonable."
    "First I need a pulse wave oscillator."
    "A what?" Ace asked.
    "It emits a signal that, at a guess, will attract the Ragamon,"
    Mulder replied.
    The Doctor gave him an admiring look. "Do you know, Mr Mulder? You
    happen to be one of the most open minded human beings I have ever met.
    It's such a refreshing change."
    Scully looked at Mulder. "What does he mean, human beings?"
    "Another time, Agent Scully," the Doctor told her, ducking under
    the console and removing a section of panelling.
    "My God, now you're telling me he's not human!"
    Mulder rounded on her. "Does any part of your current surroundings
    look remotely human made?"
    She looked around herself again. Coming to a sudden decision, she
    brought out her camera. She was determined to obtain solid evidence to
    prove she wasn't hallucinating. She began snapping away at the console
    room, not even surprised any more that none of the TARDIS crew made
    any attempt to stop her, nor that the Doctor put on a charming smile
    when she took his picture as he rose from beneath the console, a piece
    of electronic equipment in his hand.
    Mulder regarded her with an amused half smile.
    "When Agent Scully has finished, I think we ought to be off," the
    Doctor suggested, adjusting a small controller on the side of the
    device.
    Scully realised that everyone was looking at her. She lowered the
    camera and gave an embarrassed smile. She placed the camera back in
    her bag. "OK," she confirmed. "Let's go."

    [End Part 2]

    From netnews.upenn.edu!blue.seas.upenn.edu!cliff Tue Dec 6 13:35:35 1994
    Path: netnews.upenn.edu!blue.seas.upenn.edu!cliff
    From: cliff@blue.seas.upenn.edu (Cliff K Chen)
    Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
    Subject: "Fugitive" DrWho/XFiles X-Over (3/3)
    Date: 6 Dec 1994 18:11:51 GMT
    Organization: University of Pennsylvania
    Lines: 474
    Message-ID: <3c29h7$34t@netnews.upenn.edu>
    NNTP-Posting-Host: blue.seas.upenn.edu

    Fugitive -- Part 3
    by Richard Salter

    A light mist drifted over the streets of London, lending an eerie
    atmosphere to the scene as the little party made their way towards the
    last sighting place of the alien. A group of late evening revellers
    were processing along one avenue, probably midway through a pub crawl,
    Ace guessed. As they passed, one of them made some comment about
    Scully's suit, but she ignored it.
    Ace watched a couple hurrying towards a tube station, their arms
    linked possessively. She saw people talking, walking, holding hands,
    late-night shopping, enjoying themselves. She felt a stab of regret
    that she would never again be a part of this society. She was a girl
    from the future now, and Perivale was a long way behind her.
    The Doctor motioned for them to follow him down a side street, and
    the five left the main road. It was quieter down here, and certainly
    darker. Mulder and Scully brought out their torches, but the Doctor
    silently forbade their use with a hissed warning. "It's sensitive to
    bright light," he explained.
    The Time Lord stopped and crouched down on the ground. He had his
    back to them, so Ace couldn't see exactly what he was doing. Something involving the device he had taken from the TARDIS. The first time she
    and the Doctor had seen the Ragamon had been by chance. They had been
    on their way back to the TARDIS when the Doctor had pulled her into an
    alley and had pointed. She had looked and had seen nothing for a
    moment. Then it was clear that something was moving in the dim light
    of the closed-in alleyway.
    It was hard to determine what she had seen, it had moved so damn
    fast, but it was certainly alien. Too big to be a cat, but fast enough
    that was for sure. It had moved like lightning when the Doctor tried
    to talk to it. Probably felt too exposed to confront them, despite the multi-storey blocks on either side blocking the daylight. Maybe they
    had just scared it. But if it could kill, why hadn't it attacked them?
    Hopefully her question would be answered soon enough, since the
    Doctor appeared to be ready. He whispered to them all to stay quiet,
    and then turned on the device.
    Ace was vaguely aware of a slight vibration in the air. There was
    something, almost outside her range of hearing: a king of bassy
    throbbing noise that reminded her of a far off rave party.
    For a long time nothing happened. Ace let out a breath she hadn't
    realised she'd been holding and was about to point out that this was
    getting them nowhere, when they heard a noise.
    The two agents drew guns and pointed them towards the source of the disturbance. Bernice took a step forwards but the Doctor, still
    crouching by the machine, waved her back.
    Ace stared into the darkness. To her surprise, two fiery red eyes
    stared back at her. She took an involuntary step backwards and let out
    a gasp as the Ragamon stepped from the shadows and into the moonlight.
    It was hard to make out its shape in the mist, but it was roughly
    humanoid, with a large, domed head and graceful figure. Points of
    light reflected from its body, making it difficult to ascertain its
    colour. It's legs and arms were thin, but moved so smoothly as to be
    almost unreal.
    "It's a female," whispered the Doctor. Quite how he could tell was
    beyond Ace, but she was happy to take his word for it.
    "That's a Ragamon?" Scully breathed, her gun unwavering in its
    position, locked onto its target. Ace looked at her. She was having
    trouble taking all this in. According to the Doctor these two had
    worked together on many cases involving the paranormal, as well as
    mysteries involving UFOs and the like. Obviously she had never seen
    anything quite like this before.
    Mulder on the other hand seemed quite happy to accept it all, as if
    he was already sure that there was other life in the universe, as if
    the possibility that other life might not exist had never crossed his
    mind. He had a look on his face that she'd seen many times on that of
    the Doctor. It was a childish curiosity, a desire to know and to
    understand. She admired his enthusiasm. When you'd seen one alien,
    you'd seen them all.
    She had to admit that the cosmic designer had done a stunning job
    with this particular species though. The Ragamon moved as if it was unrestricted by gravity, but in total control. It didn't walk, it
    glided. It didn't raise its arms, they floated into that position. She
    fingered her blaster. As beautiful as she was, she had already killed
    and could do so again.
    "Hello," said the Doctor simply. "I'm the Doctor. I'm a friend. I
    mean you no harm."
    The creature regarded him for a moment, taking a step forward like
    some enchanted ballerina. A hole opened in the centre of her face like
    a dilating pupil of a human eye.
    "I am Tarr She'ash of the Ragamon Dynasty," she said in a voice
    that was so sweet and mellow it evoked feelings in Ace of peaceful
    meadows in the summer.
    Scully coughed, causing She'ash to flow backwards about a foot in
    retreat. "It speaks English!" she exclaimed.
    "*She*," the Doctor corrected her, "speaks Ragmesh actually."
    "Then how come...?"
    "It's hard to explain," Ace told her. "Not now."
    Scully lapsed into silence. Mulder shot her a derisory look but she
    ignored him. Ace noticed that Mulder had dropped his gun arm to his
    side, and now Scully hesitantly followed suit.
    The Doctor turned back to the alien. "Tarr She'ash," he began. "I
    know you've been left behind. I offer you a chance to leave this
    planet and rejoin your people."
    The creature's face creased at the sides of the opening, and Ace
    guessed this passed for a smile when the Doctor returned the smile in
    the conventional way. "They are coming back for me," She'ash
    explained. "They left me here intentionally."
    "Why?" Bernice asked as gently as she could so as not to alarm her.
    She'ash turned her head towards the archaeologist, reflected light glittering off her head. "Because of the little ones."
    "Little ones?" Bernice repeated.
    Suddenly it all became clear to Ace. "You were pregnant!" she
    exclaimed.
    "Correct," she replied. "I gave birth before the time. The little
    ones could not be moved. Now I look after them."
    "You couldn't leave with your babies, so you had to stay here," the
    Doctor confirmed. "It makes sense now. What about the man you killed?"
    Her head turned a slight shade of scarlet. Perhaps this was regret,
    Ace thought. "Unfortunate," she explained, "but necessary. He was
    threatening the little ones. I killed him, and then moved him so that
    the hunters would not find them when they found the body."
    "When can you leave?" Mulder asked her.
    "Not until they are strong enough to survive the launch of our
    ship."
    "How long until they are strong enough?"
    "Forty-eight planet rotations."
    "That's quite a while.
    The Doctor frowned. "Where is your ship?"
    "It waits, beyond the moon."
    "Doctor, we could..." Ace began.
    "I know, Ace." The Time Lord turned back to the creature. "I can
    get you back to your ship now. I have a craft that can take off with
    no risk to your little ones."
    "You would help me?"
    "Of course. You are stranded here. I have the means to move you and
    your family."
    "I am grateful. We are not safe here."
    "Quickly, take us to your children."
    The creature swung about and gracefully took off into the dark. The
    Doctor picked up the oscillator and hurried off in pursuit, as did his
    four companions. She moved fast, but Ace had no problem keeping up.
    She'd been maintaining her training since Space Fleet got her so fit,
    and long distance pacing was little problem. Mulder and Scully were
    obviously used to it as well, and they held up well. The Doctor was
    unstoppable such was his enthusiasm, and even Bernice was keeping up
    without protest. Hopefully this would present a good image to the
    alien, who Ace suspected was only travelling at a fraction of her
    capable speed for their benefit.
    She vaulted over a five foot wall which the Ragamon has simply
    glided over as if it weren't there. She'd lost track of where they
    were, this part of London was unfamiliar to her. There seemed to be
    nobody about, which confirmed that the Ragamon had chosen the most
    secluded area to conceal her young.
    She dropped back behind the two agents to talk with Bernice. "You
    okay?" she enquired.
    "Fine," she replied between deep breaths. Her voice wobbled every
    time she placed a foot down. "I... really need... to do this... more
    often." She smiled briefly before having to inhale deeply again.
    "You're doing fine," Ace reassured her. She looked back over her
    shoulder and thought she saw a shadow duck back behind a corner. "I'll
    catch you up," she said as she stopped running and ducked behind a
    clusters of rubbish bins.
    Once Bernice and the others were out of sight, Ace emerged from her
    hiding place. Drawing her blaster, she stealthily moved back the way
    she had come, each of her short breaths turning into mist as it
    reacted with the cold air. Pressing herself up against a wall she
    waited quietly in the darkness.
    Seconds later a man in uniform came running past her. With a flying
    leap she brought him down. She pushed him onto his back and pressed
    her knee into the man's throat. Pointing her blaster at his head she
    asked, "Why are you following us?"
    The policeman, young, with blond, curly hair and a handsome face,
    struggled to formulate words through his choked windpipe. Ace released
    the pressure a little and repeated the question. "Come on," she added.
    "It's not often I assault a police officer."
    "We're following the UFO," he choked, his eyes wide with fear as
    his gaze shifted between Ace's gun and her stern face.
    She frowned. "UF?"
    "Unidentified Fugitive."
    "You mean the alien, yeah?"
    "Yes." He struggled to draw in breath. Obviously his first time out
    of training school, Ace mused. Poor guy hadn't expected a gun to be
    held against his head on his first job.
    "How much do you know?"
    "We know the man who escaped from prison yesterday is involved with
    it, and that it killed someone. We were hoping you would lead us to
    it."
    "We'd already found it. What's your name, Constable?"
    "Derek," he hissed. "Derek Harman."
    "Well Constable Harman, this is your lucky night." Ace adjusted a
    setting on her blaster and shot him in the chest. He convulsed once
    and lay still. Ace stood and dragged the prone body behind the bins,
    covering him over with various items of spilled rubbish.
    Ace glanced around her to make sure nobody had seen or heard her,
    and then hurried off into the night.

    Dana Scully was running out of breath. Field work usually involved
    skulking around in gravel pits looking for dead bodies, not running
    after a fleeing alien from Ragmesh or Ragman or something. In all her experiences with 'Spooky' Mulder, she had to admit that this was the
    most bizarre. There were so many inexplicable elements to all this, it
    was hard to doubt. Somewhere in her shocked mind, she clung to the
    stern belief that this was still just some induced dream. Maybe she
    was testing some truth drug for the FBI to boost her pay packet.
    Unlikely, but it was a possibility, and possibility was something akin
    to reality. Reality was what she was losing a grip on.
    When they finally came to a halt, Scully bent over, placing hands
    on kneecaps in order to avoid cramp. She didn't care where she was,
    she was just grateful to have stopped running at long last.
    Her breath finally returned and she straightened. The alien was
    patiently waiting for them to regain their composure, whilst the
    Doctor stood quietly next to it, not even breathing heavily. Bernice
    was still bent double and Mulder, like her she suspected, looked
    flushed but had straightened up. Of the girl, Ace, there was no sign.
    Still, that wasn't her concern.
    She looked around for the missing companion anyway, noticing for
    the first time that they had arrived in a narrow alleyway closed in on
    both sides by two disused factories, complete with sprayed graffiti
    and broken windows. She shivered, not entirely due to the cold.
    "Are we here?" Bernice asked.
    "I think so," the Doctor replied. He turned to She'ash - if that
    was her name - and asked, "Are your young ones close by?"
    She nodded, one gesture that Scully could easily recognise, and
    then ducked down a flight of stairs that led down beneath the street.
    The Doctor followed her, and Scully and the others tagged along
    behind. She wondered what they would find inside as the alien pushed
    open the door. Judging by the signs of inflicted damage, it had
    obviously been forced at some point.
    They followed her inside, and she led them down another flight of
    stairs to an old office. There, from the far corner, something rose
    out of the darkness and came to greet She'ash. As it approached it was
    evident that it was much like the alien who had brought them here.
    "Another Ragamon?" the Doctor said in hushed tones.
    The two Ragamon brushed faces for a second. A kiss? Scully laughed
    to herself. Could this be the creature's mate?
    "A male," the Doctor confirmed as the two aliens held each other
    close and performed what to Scully looked like a brief, rhythmic
    dance.
    Bernice's voice was filled with delight. "So the male looks after
    the children, while the female goes out to hunt for food!" She turned
    to Dana. "How's that for equality?"
    Scully laughed. "There's hope for us yet," she agreed.
    "Welcome, friends," the male said to them. He was slightly smaller
    than She'ash, and there was an odd fold of skin attached to his
    abdomen that resembled a kangaroo's pouch. Scully smiled despite
    herself. She found herself warming to his very happy couple.
    The Doctor raised his hat, grinning broadly. "How nice to know that
    our friend She'ash here was not left alone to look after the little
    ones."
    The male Ragamon bristled slightly. "I am her pair-bond. I would
    not abandon her. It is my duty to care for the little ones."
    "Where are they?" Bernice asked, obviously as eager to see them as
    Scully.
    His face creased in that odd smile and he took them silently to the
    back of the room. There, wrapped in a large, shiny silver blanket that resembled the Ragamon's skin in colour, were three perfect miniatures
    of the parents. Their wide, red eyes regarded the humans who bent over
    them with childlike curiosity.
    Something almost maternal was stirring in Scully. Images of her
    nephew floated into her mind and she was lost for a moment in dreams
    of one day holding her own child in her arms. She looked up at the
    Ragamon as she asked, "Can I hold one?"
    He gave that smile again and nodded.
    Scully reached down and carefully drew back the blanket. She then
    picked up one of the baby Ragamon, cradling the creature's body with
    one hand and supporting its head with the other. All thoughts of this
    being some sort of elaborate hoax faded from her mind. Holding this
    baby close to her breast was more real to her than meeting the Doctor,
    entering the extraordinary TARDIS, or meeting She'ash for the first
    time.
    She was vaguely aware of Bernice picking up another of the babies,
    and Mulder muttering something about women and various highly
    scientific chemical reactions involved in child-rearing.
    "I think the word you are looking for," the Doctor told him, "is
    clucky!"
    Scully smiled at the Doctor. She felt a sudden urge to hug him. He
    seemed so friendly, so warm, so genuine. At that moment she fully
    realised for the first that she could trust this odd little man with
    anything. It was the most peculiar feeling, and it brought home the
    reason why Mulder could annoy her so much sometimes. It was ironic.
    Apparently the Doctor was just as alien as the Ragamon, yet he was far
    more human than most people she knew, Mulder included.
    She looked down at the innocent child in her arms. It couldn't stay
    here. It would be tested and dissected, incarcerated and studied,
    filed and indexed. She felt a new determination to get these people
    back to their own environment.
    "We must get them back to the TARDIS," she found herself saying.
    "It's their only chance."
    The Doctor nodded, lost in thought. "Maybe it would be better to
    bring the TARDIS here rather than move them."
    "Not an option, I'm afraid."
    They all turned to the entrance. Ace had walked in, blaster in
    hand. "I just put a policeman out of action who was following us here,
    but I doubt he was alone."
    The Doctor gave her a stern look. "I only stunned him," she
    insisted in hurt tones.
    "Then we must go now," the Doctor decided. "Mulder, Scully, I need
    you two to hold up the police somehow, whilst Ace, Bernice and myself
    get these good people to the TARDIS."
    "I'll go with these two," Ace suggested, indicating the FBI agents.
    "I have an idea. I'll meet you back at the TARDIS."
    "You know the way?" the Doctor asked her. Scully noted the almost
    parental tone to his voice.
    "Of course I know the bloody way!" Ace replied explosively. "I grew
    up in London!"
    The male Ragamon took his children from Scully and Bernice, placing
    them with the third in his pouch. He was about to wrap up the blanket
    when Ace reached out a hand. "Can I have that?" she asked.
    "Souvenir?" Bernice asked her as the she took the cloak and stuffed
    it into her backpack.
    "Not exactly." Ace turned back to the Doctor. "Don't wait for me,"
    she said. "Just get these two lovebirds out of here. I can take care
    of myself as long as you promise to come back and pick me up
    eventually."
    The Doctor grinned. "Of course. Time to go."

    "There they are!"
    Bernice watched from where she was hiding as the hordes of police
    officers charged past, kicking up the discarded litter that lined the
    streets. Luckily they didn't have the dogs, or they might have noticed
    the Doctor, the two aliens and herself crouched in the shadows. She
    knew what their target was. They also considered it to a be dangerous
    target, since they had several armed officers in their ranks.
    Leaning forward around the edge of the recessed doorway, Bernice
    could see Scully lying still in the middle of the road. Mulder stood
    in front of her, shielding her body from the advancing law enforcers.

    Before they reached him, Mulder took a step forwards and pulled out
    his identification. Immediately the officers scattered, looking for
    any cover they could find. The armed police snapped their weapons to
    target the agent. They visibly relaxed when they realised he was
    simply taking out his wallet. Hell they were jumpy, he thought.
    "Special Agent Fox Mulder," he called loudly to the highest ranking
    officer he could see. "FBI."
    One of the officers stepped forward, two others covering Mulder
    with pistols. He was a tall, broad shouldered man wearing riot gear
    and a dangerous expression. "What are you doing here?" he asked in a
    distinctly London accent.
    "Investigating aliens," said Mulder seriously.
    The officer looked shifty for a moment. Mulder could tell that a
    few days ago the man would have laughed in Mulder's face. Now
    however...
    "What's wrong with her?" the officer asked, indicating Scully.
    "The alien shot her," Mulder answered. "I'd appreciate it if she
    could have some medical assistance."
    The burly man nodded and waved two men forward. They brought with
    them emergency medical supplies and set about examining the prone
    Scully.
    A bright light flashed. One of the medical orderlies cried out in
    pain and surprise before crashing to the ground beside Scully.
    Mulder and the police officers spun around to the source of the
    shot to see a silver figure disappear over a nearby wall.
    "Shoot to kill!" cried the officer who had questioned Mulder.
    "After him."
    "This way," Mulder shouted and started off after the fleeing
    figure, police in tow.

    Taking their cue from Mulder, Bernice and the Doctor led the two
    aliens from their hiding place and in the opposite direction to the
    one the London constabulary had taken. Keeping low so as to avoid the
    medical orderlies who attended Scully and the fallen man, they crept
    away down the street.
    The Doctor led the way, Bernice taking up the rear guard, watching
    for any stray police.

    Stowing the blaster away in her jacket, Ace leapt at the wall, hooking
    eager fingers over the top. Hoisting herself over she landed nimbly on
    the far side and took off through the car park. Dammit, this was too
    open. She needed to get back to familiar territory.
    She glanced quickly at her surroundings before coming to a
    decision. She had to find somewhere with a lot of people, where she
    could ditch the cloak without being seen by the police. A perfect
    place came to her and she changed her direction slightly. A single
    warning shot whistled over her head and she resisted the urge to duck,
    her training telling her to keep moving as fast as possible.
    She burst into the main street and leapt out of the way of a group
    of European tourists who filled the entire pavement. The police
    wouldn't fire on her here: too many people in the way.
    Taking a sharp left, she disappeared into Oxford Circus underground
    station. Without stopping to see if she was being followed, she leapt
    over the turnstiles, startling many travellers in the process and
    causing all manner of alarms to go off. She was already haring down
    the escalator, running past everyone by keeping to the left and taking
    the steps three at a time. She nearly pushed one poor man off the
    escalator because he wasn't moving fast enough, but somehow they both
    kept their balance and someone else made way for her.
    She knew the police down on the platform would have been notified
    by now, but she was still wearing the cloak which she kept covering
    her face. This wasn't the first time she'd run from the police and
    dodged the Underground fare, and memories of a misspent youth came
    flooding back to her. She remembered the time she, Midge and Shreela
    had been chased down onto the underground by a bunch of white kids,
    threatening to smash their faces in.
    The images in her mind faded in a blur as she tore down the
    connecting tunnel. She was approaching the platform now. She had to
    get rid of the cloak. The police hadn't caught up on either side yet
    so she threw off her cover. Jumping up, she flung the cloak over a
    length of piping before hurrying off towards the Central Line
    Westbound platform.
    Emerging, she strolled innocently past the policeman on duty who
    was receiving instructions from his lapel radio.
    Ace was lucky. The train thundered into the station causing a wind
    tunnel that blew dust into her eyes. It was a familiar feeling, and
    the sounds and smells were rich with nostalgia. When the doors opened
    she leapt on as the police spilled out onto the platform.
    "Someone stop all these bloody trains!" called one of them.
    "Sarge," called another. "I think it was spotted heading north on
    Bakerloo."
    And then the doors slammed shut, and Ace was whisked away from
    trouble at a rate of knots. One up for Ace's gang. She hadn't lost her
    edge.

    Dana Scully sat disconsolately, her feet up on Mulder's desk, leaning
    back on his office chair. The chair's owner was placing a thick file
    of papers into a battered filing cabinet.
    "I miss him," she said after sitting in silence for a long while.
    "It was a missed opportunity," Mulder agreed. "We could have learnt
    so much from him."
    Scully dropped her feet off the desk and swivelled the chair round
    to face him. "I don't mean that. I mean I'll miss *him*."
    "You worry me sometimes, Scully, you know that?"
    "I worry you?" Dana scoffed. "You're the spooky one, remember?"
    Mulder smiled at her. "You have to admit, it was all real."
    Scully frowned. "I'm not so sure," she said. "It all felt like a
    dream to me."
    Mulder moved over to a nearby table and poured himself a cup of
    coffee from a jug. "How's the field report coming along?"
    Scully smiled. She knew what Mulder thought of her field reports.
    "It's interesting," she admitted as he handed her a cup of coffee. "So
    far." She knew she couldn't write in it everything she'd seen,
    everyone would think she was as weird as Mulder. She was getting quite
    a reputation as it was, just being assigned to him. It was such a
    dilemma. She could still remember how she had felt when she held that
    tiny life in her arms. How could she deny it? How could she afford not
    to?
    Mulder seemed to read her mind, or at least her face. He advanced
    on her, gripping the arms of his chair and leaning over her. "Scully,
    you can't withhold evidence from your report because of what people
    will think of you," he insisted. "Think what would have happened if
    Newton or Einstein had got too scared to write down their discoveries
    because they might be written off as heretics."
    Scully felt guilty. Had she really been that obvious?
    "You have evidence. You have the pictures you took of the TARDIS."
    She shook her head as she sipped at her coffee. "They all came out
    blank, Mulder."
    He turned away from her, his eyes raising skywards as he did so,
    muttering profanities under his breath. "I don't believe it!" he said
    at last.
    "Oh come on, Mulder. You knew they wouldn't come out. I certainly
    did. I'm not even sure the last forty-eight hours even happened."
    He sighed and dropped into a soft-cushioned chair by the door.
    "Never mind," she told him, as much for her own benefit as for his,
    "I'm sure he'll be back. He's too concerned about this planet to leave
    it alone for long."
    "Oh I'm sure he will," Mulder agreed. "I'm sure he's here already."

    The Doctor stood leaning against the familiar bulk of the TARDIS, idly
    twirling his fedora on the tip of his umbrella. He wasn't paying
    attention to her, but she knew he had seen her approach.
    "Been having fun?" he asked her without looking up.
    "Mmm," she replied simply. "It's been a while. Our friends get home
    OK?"
    "Fine," he replied, gazing intently at the spinning hat. "They were
    more than willing to leave this system alone such was their
    gratitude."
    The Doctor looked at her at last, regarding her with a slightly
    disapproving look. "The last time you were here, the TARDIS doors
    disappeared."
    "Hardly my fault," she protested, walking up to him and giving him
    a friendly hug. He returned it, smiling at her as they pulled apart.
    "I know," he said simply. She knew he wasn't just talking about the
    last time they had come here.
    "You knew where I'd be." It was a statement.
    He gave her one of his all-knowing, all-seeing smiles and chuckled.
    A shiver went down her spine. He almost sounded like the Master.
    "Ace," he said. "You didn't even have to change Underground lines to
    get here." He paused, looking around himself distantly. "You've come a
    long way since then haven't you?"
    She shrugged. "I've learnt a lot."
    The Doctor moved towards the TARDIS door and held it open for her.
    "Ready to face the enemy?"
    "Yeah why not."

    The End

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