"Ohhhhh…."

"Oh, man, those were some good drugs!"

"Is it important at this point that I can't feel my
legs?"

Frohike, Langly and Byers stared at one another from
the army issue cots they were lying on. The room was
industrial grey, cool and windowless. For a long
moment, they didn't move, just held their heads and
held their tongues, working out what had happened to
them since they had "died" in that hallway…

Finally Byers sat up with a groan, and muttered, "How
do you think Mulder knew?"

Frohike joined him in the upright position and
replied, "How does Mulder know anything? They don't
call him 'spooky' for nothing."

Langly closed his eyes and willed the room to quit
spinning.

A whoosh of air as the thick metal door in the corner
opened, and all three men startled.

Frohike was the first to get to his feet when he
recognized the lanky figure leaning nonchalantly in
the doorway. He jumped up, staggered slightly and then
raced across the room to embrace Fox Mulder, who
hugged him back with equal force, and didn't even
complain that the shorter man's hands were on his ass.

Someone else did, though.

"Hey, Melvin, watch the hands." Walter Skinner growled
from behind Mulder. Frohike reluctantly disengaged
himself and stood back as the other two men entered
the room.

"Where are we?" asked Byers.

"Safe, for the moment," replied Skinner. "The drug you
were given revived you twelve hours after the funeral.
Thank God I was able to get you into Arlington. No one
questioned the same 'general' ordering exhumation so
quickly. Or reburial, for that matter."

"Thanks, Mulder," Langly murmured from his still prone
position on the cot. Mulder smiled and put an arm
around Skinner.

"I'm not the one to thank, Langly," he said. "Walter
made it happen. I just gave him the heads up on what
the Sharks were up to."

"Well, whatever, man. I still can't feel my legs."

Frohike and Byers gave Skinner looks that were both
apologetic and grateful.

"Once you've got your bearings, we'll be relocating
the three of you." Skinner had returned Mulder's
embrace, and he tightened his grip as he spoke.
"You're going to wind up in the same city-Mulder
insisted-but under different names, and you'll have to
have minimal contact with one another for some time.
Until we can get this situation under control."

There came a scuffling sound from behind them, and all
three Gunmen looked alarmed, until the doorway was
filled by a huge puppyish blonde shape.

"Guys!!"

Jimmy barreled through the door, grinning from ear to
ear. He spared some sunshine for Langly and Frohike,
and then turned his beaming visage on Byers, who had
been attempting to stand. They stared at one another
for a fraction of a second, and then Jimmy was leaping
forward to catch Byers in a huge bear hug as the older
man felt the strength go out of his legs. 

When Frohike finally cleared his throat meaningfully,
they slipped apart, barely, both of them with matching
grins and shiny eyes.

"Oh, man, guys! I thought it was the end for sure!
Then Mister Skinner told me what he had planned. And
he said that he knew you'd want me here." This last
was said to the room, but was in fact solely for
Byers.

Skinner looked uncomfortable being caught in an act
not in keeping with his surly reputation.

"Way to go, Walt," Frohike said with a smile, earning
himself a frown.

Langly sat up, hands on his head, and squinted
myopically around the room. He had no idea what might
have become of his glasses, and it took him a long
moment to focus, his thoughts and his eyes.

"Anyone got anything to eat?" he asked.

General laughter greeted this remark, and Frohike
moved towards him.

"I think you can look forward to a lifetime of huevos
rancheros, hippie," he said, his voice kind. He took
one of Langly's hands and held it tightly.

Jimmy kissed Byers gently on the forehead, then looked
around the room.

"All right!" he exclaimed. "Are we freakin' heroes, or
what?"