Part 2 of 2

Mac and Harm smiled as the two agents hurried over.
"Sorry we're late," Scully said. "As embarrassing as
it is for me to have to admit this, we got turned
around."

"Oh, I know it's easy to get lost on a ship this
size," Mac said, shooting a quick I-told-you-so glance at her partner.

"So, can we get some breakfast and discuss strategy?"
Harm asked.

Over coffee, the agents and officers discussed what
they'd discovered so far.

"Under ordinary circumstances, I would say the next
logical step would be for us to go to the restaurant,
show the employees pictures of the sailors, see if any of the local population has recently exhibited similar symptoms, things like that," Mulder said. "Of course, since we're on a ship and the restaurant is nearly a thousand miles away, I'm not sure if that's feasible."

"Actually, it is," Harm said. "I've already discussed
that possibility with the Captain."

"Harm, please don't tell me you're thinking what I
think you're thinking," Mac said.

"I'm a pilot, Mac!" he replied. "It's been cleared
with the Captain. The only question is: which one of
the agents is going with me?"

"Whoa, wait a minute," Scully said. "You're a *pilot*, Harm? I was under the impression that you were a lawyer!"

Harm sighed. "I'm a licensed pilot. I can no longer be assigned duty as a Naval Aviator because I suffer from night-blindness, but I've kept up my skills by
piloting private planes on a regular basis. As long as we make it to the port and back to the ship during
daylight hours - and I don't see why that would be a
problem - the Captain's agreed to let me use one of
the fighter planes. It is official Navy business,
after all."

"Do you have doubts about your partner's ability to
pilot a plane safely, Mac?" Mulder asked.

"None at all," Mac replied. "I've flown with him
before and probably will again."

"So I guess the only question really is which one of
us should accompany you, Harm," Scully said.

"We'll need to leave within the hour," Harm said. "I
want to give myself plenty of leeway. I don't want a
JFK-Junior type scenario where I end up crashing into
the open sea due to impeding darkness and over
confidence."

Mulder glanced at his wife. "Could we have a few
minutes to discuss this privately?" he asked the
officers.

"Sure," Harm said. "Meet us back up on deck whenever
you're ready."

As soon as the JAG officers had left, Mulder and
Scully both said, in unison, "I think I should be the
one to go with Harm."

"Why?" Mulder asked first.

"Well, for one thing, we know that small boats on
choppy seas tend to give you motion sickness. I'm not
sure that a small plane would be a much better
scenario; in fact, it might be worse. Also, Mulder,
I'm presuming we've reached the point where even *you* are willing to concede that there's nothing
particularly bizarre or supernatural about these
deaths? It's basically a medical mystery and I'm a
medical doctor. Why do you think you should be the one to go?"

"Same reason you said, except I think it applies in
reverse. You need to stay here where you have access
to research equipment. I realize a ship's sick bay is
hardly equivalent to the labs at Quantico, but you
might be able to find out something if you can go back over your findings with microscopes and computers. You're not likely to come to any new conclusions ten thousand feet in the air. And, yes, for the record, I'm willing to agree that this doesn't really qualify as an X-File. Unless we find some sort of proof that the restaurant owners are deliberately poisoning American military personnel, it won't even qualify as a crime; I'm sure there is a logical, scientific, rational explanation for these deaths."

"Mulder, I never thought I'd live to hear the day when I'd hear you say that!"

"So we're agreed? You'll stay here with Mac and I'll
go out to the island with Harm?"

"I guess. Are you sure that's the entire reason you
don't want me flying with Harm?"

"What? Are you thinking that maybe I'm either worried
about your safety or jealous that Flyboy will make a
pass at you if he gets you alone?"

"Maybe a little."

Mulder smiled. "Maybe I am a little bit of both.
Worried and jealous. Although, come to think of it, I
don't suppose leaving you on a ship with a whole bunch of Sailors is going to ease my mind on the second half of that equation."

"So, what? I get to worry about your physical safety
and you get to worry about some Navy guy coming on to
me?"

"Something like that."

"Mulder, I grew up on Naval bases! If I could handle
myself around groups of horny Sailors when I was
seventeen, I can damn sure do it now that I'm twice
that age!"

"Okay, Scully," he said, then reached out to trace his fingertips down her cheek.

"You just be careful with our pilot-turned-lawyer
friend. And watch what you eat!"
 
As Mulder and Scully emerged back on deck, they
spotted the JAG officers. "I'll be the one going with
you," Mulder told Harm.

"Let's do it, then," Harm said. "We've been okayed to
take this plane right here."

"Harm," Mac said, and then hesitated, "be careful,
okay? And be sure to be back way before dusk!"

"Mac, you're giving Agent Scully and Agent Mulder the
wrong impression. It's not like he's risking his life
flying with me! I'm not going to be doing anything
fancy."

"I know, I just. . .I wish I were the one going with
you!"

"Why, Mac?"

"I'm sure Mulder is a fine agent, but nobody can
watch your back like I can. For all we know, there is
some psychotic cook or something on that island who
bears a horrible grudge against American Naval
Officers!"

Harm chuckled lightly. "I think it more likely has to
do with third world hygiene standards. . .or a lack
thereof. I have my doubts about your killer chef
theory!"

"Come on over to the other side of the plane for a
minute."

"Okay, why are we over here?" Harm asked after they
had ducked under the nose of the plane and were
standing on the other side.

"To give Agent Scully and Agent Mulder a chance to say goodbye."

"What, they have to give each other the secret F.B.I.
handshake or something and we can't be witness to it?"

"Harm," Mac said with sigh, "I realize your father was declared MIA when you were quite young, but don't you have *any* idea how married people tell each other goodbye when they're going to be apart for more than a couple of hours? Especially if they're newlyweds?"

"Oh. Well, I hope they can be quick about it. We
haven't got all day."

Mac smiled softly. "Do you ever wonder why everybody's married but us?"

"Are you proposing, Marine?"

Mac blushed slightly. "Of course not! I just meant we
usually work so closely with Bud and Harriet and
*they're* married. Now we end up being teamed with
what is, apparently, the F.B.I.'s one-and-only pair of agents who happen to be both partners and a married couple."

On the other side of the plane, Mulder made a
lightning-quick risk assessment. On the one hand,
Skinner had agreed to their continued professional
partnership only on the condition that they be
discreet about their personal relationship and kissing Scully in full view of the JAG officers and any of the ship's crew that happened to be walking past would hardly be that! On the other hand, she was his wife, she was clearly a bit nervous about sending him off in a small plane with a pilot-turned-lawyer and, damn it, he *wanted* to kiss her goodbye!

Mulder had never been one to play it safe. He placed
his hands on Scully's waist, gave a gentle tug so that their bodies were in full contact, and bent his mouth to hers. It wasn't a particularly passionate kiss, but one that expressed tenderness and love. "Bye, sweetheart," he whispered. "See you late this
afternoon."

"Goodbye," she murmured as he climbed into the
cockpit.

After Mulder and Harm had taken off, Scully returned
to the lab. For lack of a better way to spend her
time, Mac accompanied her.

"What are you looking for?" Mac asked her.

"A needle in a haystack, is what it amounts to,"
Scully replied. "If I was back at the Quantico labs, I might be able to run a microscopic spectrum analysis but with this equipment I don't know that I'll find anything more than I already have."

"Can I ask you something sort of. . .personal?" Mac
inquired tentatively.

"Sure, Mac. What?"

"You and Mulder. . . being married and being partners. Does that. . .work?"

"Better than I ever imagined it would," Scully
replied. "When we first got married, I was sort of
worried about it. It's not at all unusual for us to
have professional disagreements and I was worried that we'd take them home with us. Our boss expressed
similar reservations. But it's been wonderful! It's so nice not to have to say goodbye to each other every night, like we had to before we got married; it's equally nice not to have to say goodbye to each other every morning, like most married couples do. When you think about it, really, the idea that people should keep their personal and professional lives totally separate is a quite modern concept. For most of human history, husbands and wives worked side-by-side - farming, or running a Mom-and-Pop type business, or whatever. We're just doing putting a new spin on an old idea."

Mac smiled. "I guess that's one way of looking at it."

By early afternoon, Scully has isolated an enzyme that she thought might be the cause of the deaths. It was similar to a toxin submitted by Japanese blowfish.

Once the men landed, Mulder put in a call to Scully
and she shared the information with him. Mulder and
Harm soon located the restaurant in question. It
didn't take long for the two men to determine that all the Sailors had, indeed, consumed a local delicacy. One which the natives had apparently developed a natural immunity to, but which could, in large doses, prove fatal to those unused to it.

"Well, I say we find someplace to grab a bite of lunch - not this place, for sure - then head back to the ship," Harm suggested. "We can file a report with the Captain and he can explain the nature of the deaths to the families. I don't think there was any intent to harm, do you, Agent Mulder?"

"As best as I could determine, no," agreed Mulder. "I
suppose Scully and I could come back here and launch a full-scale investigation into the restaurant owner;
see if he was known to harbor a grudge against the
American military or something, but if your asking for my assessment based on what we know right now I'd say the whole situation is just sad, not criminal."

"It's possible the families may want to sue the
restaurant owner in civil court," Harm said. "However, since they weren't on duty at the time they became infected it would be a matter for civilian attorneys, not the JAG corps."

As they ate - at a McDonald's - Harm asked, "What led
to you joining the F.B.I., anyway?"

Mulder sighed. "When I was twelve, my sister
disappeared. She was eight. We just woke up one
morning and she was gone. No note, nothing. I've never known what happened to her. I guess that's why I joined the bureau. During my years there, I've been
able to investigate some cases that are remarkably
similar to hers, but I haven't ever found any
definitive proof of what happened to her."

"I know how tough not knowing can be," Harm said.

"Really?" Mulder asked, attempting to raise his
eyebrow in an imitation of his wife's skeptical look.

"Yes," Harm replied quietly. "My father was also a
Naval officer, a pilot. He was declared MIA in Vietnam when I was seven. His name's on the wall, but I've never really known. . .for years I had fantasies of being reunited with him. I guess that's why I became a Naval officer myself. I always had the feeling the military knew more than they were telling about Dad's disappearance and I suppose I thought if I was actually on the inside, so to speak, I'd have a better chance of finding the truth."

Mulder was surprised. It was strange to think he'd
found a kindred spirit in a Naval officer, considering all the problems he'd had with the military in the past.

"This is kind of changing the subject, but I sensed
some vibes between you and Mac. It's not really any of my business, but is something personal going on
between you two?"

"No," Harm said quickly. "I mean, sure, there's an
attraction. I'm a man, she's a woman and we spend a
lot of our time together. But the military expressly
forbids intimate relationships between officers in the same chain of command. I suppose the bureau does, too, but with agents the worst they could do is fire one or both of you. With us, a court martial would be a very real possibility. Although. . ."

"What?" Mulder asked.

"I recently has some surgery that could, possibly,
allow me to regain my designation as a Naval Aviator.
It has occurred to me that there would be personal, as well as professional, repercussions to no longer being assigned to the JAG Corps."

"I see," Mulder replied.

Shortly after lunch, the two men took off heading back to ship through a cloudless blue sky.

Hours later, Mac and Scully were in the temporary
quarters assigned to the F.B.I. agents when a knock
sounded on the door. Dana opened it to find her
brother there.

"Hi, Charles! Come on in. Or did you come to tell us
that the plane's approaching?"

Charles stepped in and sighed. What he had to say
wasn't easy, but he had been adamant that he be the
one to give the news to his sister.

"No, the plane's not approaching yet. In fact. .
.they've lost radio contact with it."

"What?" Mac asked.

"The radio room received a transmission from Harm
about fifteen minutes ago. They ran into what's called a white squall. A storm that seems to arise, quite literally, from nowhere. It's the worst nightmare of any Naval pilot. Since then. . .we haven't been able to reestablish radio contact."

"Oh, my God!" Dana said.  "Harm said he lost his
designation as an aviator because he suffers from
night blindness. A storm of the magnitude you're
describing. . .wouldn't that be almost the same as
flying in the dark?"

Charles nodded and drew his sister into his embrace.
She was the older, but at the moment he felt as though she were his little sister, in need of whatever comfort he could give her.

"Dana," Mac said softly. "What Harm *didn't* tell you
was that he recently had some surgery that seems to
have corrected his vision problems. He's scheduled to
go through a medical evaluation next week and may
possibly apply to be designated an aviator again."

"But you don't know for sure?" Dana asked softly.

"We don't know for sure," Mac agreed.

Over an hour later, the three of them were still in
the agents' quarters. Charles had left only briefly,
to order one of the Sailors in the radio room to
report to him immediately if they had any transmission from Harm's plane.

"Dana," he said softly, "even in a worse case
scenario, where the plane went down, that doesn't mean there's no hope. The plane is equipped with all kinds of survival equipment; flotation devices, emergency rations, homing beacons. We're in a semi-tropical climate, which means that the temperature of the water would increase their chances of hanging on until a rescue party could find them. And a crash over open water is actually more likely to result in survivors than a land crash."

"It's almost dark," Dana said. "I guess, in some ways, maybe now we should be hoping that they *have*
crashed, rather than thinking that maybe Harm is out
there somewhere, miles off course, trying to fly a
plane in the gathering dusk."

"When he lost his designation. . .it was because he
crashed a plane while attempting to land it after
dark," Mac said. "His radio intercept officer was
killed."

"That remark was uncalled for, Major!" Charles
snapped. "Get out of here." He was treading on thin
ice because a Marine Major outranked a Navy
Lieutenant. But it was his ship and Dana was his
sister and he was damned if he was going to have some
hotshot JAG officer upsetting her even more than she
already was.

He was surprised when Mac neither obeyed the order nor challenged his authority to issue it.  Instead, she apologized. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to make you feel worse, Dana."

"I know. It's okay, Charles. I know you're trying to
take care of me and I appreciate that. But she's
worried, too."

Charles sighed. "I'll got back down to the radio room
and see if there's any news. Back in a few minutes."
He kissed Dana briefly on the forehead before leaving.

After Charles had left, Mac apologized again. "I
really am sorry, Dana. What you said, about me being
worried too, that's true. But it must be worse for
you. After all, Mulder is your *husband*. Harm's just. . .I mean it's not like he and I. .  . "

Dana gave a small smile. "Are you sure about that,
Mac? You're not really behaving like a military
officer who's concerned about a fellow officer or even like a person who's worried about a friend. You're acting just like I am; like you're a woman who's scared to death she may have lost the man she loves."

"It's not like that between Harm and me," Mac
repeated. But her voice lacked conviction.

"I'm not accusing you two of any sort of... impropriety. I grew up in a Naval family; I am aware
of the prohibitions concerning romantic relationships
between officers in the same chain of command. But
those rules apply to what you do; they don't effect
how you feel. The bureau has rules, too. Maybe not
quite as stringent, but definitely there. For a long,
long time I fought against the feelings I had for my
partner. Because I believed in the rules. I was a
woman trying to make it in a man's world; the last
thing I needed was to get in a situation where my
romantic relationship effected my professional duties. But I finally realized that even though my career was important to me, Mulder mattered more."

"Are you sure? For instance, if you had to give up
working for the F.B.I. to be with him, would you do
it? Could you?"

"Yes," Scully replied. "I almost did once. It was
before we were married, before we'd ever even kissed.
But we'd already been through so much together, grown
so close. . .They wanted to split us up, transfer me
out to Utah. It would, actually, have been a promotion for me. I refused it, turned in my resignation. Later they reconsidered, allowed me to remain at headquarters as Mulder's partner. Making the decision to give up my career. . .it wasn't easy. I just knew that giving up Mulder would be even harder. I got lucky, got to keep both my career and my man," she gave a little smile at that, "but I knew that if they ever again forced my hand, my choice would have been the same."

"I wish I had your convictions," Mac said.

Mulder clenched his jaw against a rising wave of
nausea. Harm had offered him a brief warning when the
storm first hit, but since then the other man had been too busy piloting the plane to offer reassurances or explanations. Mulder fully realized the danger they were in; understood that the same vision problems which prevented Harm from flying at night would be hampering him in this weather.

Be sort of ironic, Mulder thought, if I died like
this. After all the weird things I've been through,
the dangers I faced. . .to die in a sad, but common
accident while investigating a case that turned out
not to even be a crime, much less an X-File. He
offered up a prayer to a God he wasn't sure he
believed in that everything come out all right. Along
with his supplication, however, was a note of thanks.
He was glad he and Scully were married, even if it had only been for a few months. Glad that he'd finally garnered, from somewhere, the courage to tell her how deep his feelings really ran. Because, as much as he didn't want to die, knowing that his death left his beloved Dana forever in doubt about the truth of his love would have made it a thousand times worse.

Suddenly, as quickly as it had arose, the storm
dissipated. A beam of sunlight shone into the cockpit, turning the instrument panel almost iridescent. The sky was now crystal blue.

"Hey, Mulder, you okay back there?" Harm asked.

"Yeah," Mulder replied. "I don't know much about
flying small planes, but that was a helluva piloting
job!"

"Thanks. Let me just get an instrument reading and
adjust our course and we'll be back to the ship in no
time. I promised Mac we'd be back before dark and, as
an officer and a gentleman, I'm honor bound to keep my word."

Charles breathed a sigh of relief as the Harm's voice
crackled across the radio. They were okay. Almost out
of fuel, but back on course and just a few nautical
miles away from the carrier. Charles almost broke a
speed record running back to his sister's quarters.

"Dana! It's okay. We've re-established radio contact.
They should be in sight by the time we make it up to
the deck."

Dana kissed her brother and gave Mac's hand a brief
squeeze. The three of them made it up onto deck just
as the plane began to come in for descent.

"Honestly," Mac murmured. "I don't know if I want to
kiss Harm or chew him out for putting me through
this."

"I don't have that problem," Scully answered with a
smile.

As soon as Harm gave the okay, Mulder swung his long
legs out of the cockpit and hopped down. Okay, so it
wasn't exactly terra firm, but after what he'd just
been through the steady deck of a large ship was
reassuring.

He'd barely had time to glance around before Scully
was on him. Quite literally. She didn't speak, simply
wrapped her arms around his neck dragged his mouth
down to hers. Mulder hugged her tightly and kissed her with equal passion. When they finally came up for air he smiled gently into her eyes. "It's okay, baby," he whispered.

She smiled back and nodded. "Now it is. You're home
safe."

"We're on an aircraft carrier, Dana!"

"We're together. That makes us at home."

"You know, Agent Scully, when you're right, you're
right."

Charles moved to clap his brother-in-law lightly on
the shoulder. "The Captain wants you and Harm in his
office in an hour to report on your findings. Why
don't you go back to your quarters and finish, um,
briefing Dana on the situation."

The two agents held hands as they quickly transversed
the narrow corridor back to their quarters.

As Mac and Harm moved away from the small crowd that
had gathered around the plane, he said, "Did I make
you blink, Marine?"

Mac knew the unspoken rules that they followed in
their relationship demanded that she give a flip
answer in return, but she just couldn't do it. Not
now. Not with the silent echo of Dana's "a woman
worried about the man she loves," still ringing in her ear. Once they had rounded a corner and were in
relative privacy, she stretched up on her tiptoes and
kissed him on the corner of his mouth. "I'm glad you
made it back safely, Harm," she said. Then moved away
quickly before he could speak.

"A whole hour to ourselves, Scully," Mulder said with
a grin as soon as they had shut and locked the door.
"Any ideas how we should spend it?"

"Shut up and kiss me, Mulder."

"Oh, but Scully, it's so much more fun when I keep my
mouth *open* to kiss you," he replied.
 
Before Scully could reply, he demonstrated. A long,
deep kiss, probing her mouth with his tongue, feeling
hers do the same to his. When they came up for air, he bent his knees slightly and lifted her so that she
could encircle his waist with her legs. "Let's go
christen the other bed," he murmured.

Getting undressed proved a bit difficult, because
Scully didn't want to remove her arms and legs from
his body. But Mulder managed. He wasn't in the mood
for a half-clothed quickie. He wanted full body
contact, skin-to-skin from head to toe for both of
them. When they were completely naked, he kissed her
again.  "I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you, too."

He positioned her beneath him and began to rock within her in slow, steady strokes. There would be time, later, for leisurely, erotic variations on this theme, but right now they just wanted to express their love in the most basic way possible. Face-to-face, their bodies joined. Looking into her eyes he smiled and whispered his love again. She smiled and gave a little whimper of pure pleasure as her body began to convulse around him. As so often happened with them, the feel of her climax triggered his own.

A few minutes later, Mulder murmured, "As much as I
would love to stay here and indulge in some afterglow
cuddling, we need to get dressed, Scully. I don't want both JAG officers, the Captain and your brother all showing up at our door demanding to know why we
haven't reported as ordered."

"Mmm, you're right." She reluctantly untangled herself and began redressing.

The Captain looked over his desk at the JAG officers
and Lieutenant Charles Scully. "You did an excellent
job of piloting the plane in difficult conditions, Lt. Commander Rabb. If you do decide to apply for a change in duty designation to become an aviator again, I'll be glad to put a note in your file giving my recommendation that the Navy take advantage of your skills."

"Thank you, sir."

"Lieutenant Scully, your sister and brother-in-law are running a bit late. Do you have any idea what they could be doing?"

"Being as she *is* my sister, sir, I'm working very
hard on *not* contemplating what they could be doing."

The Captain gave a brief chuckle at that.

"Really, sir, the agents played a much larger role in
bringing this case to a conclusion that Lt. Commander
Rabb and myself did," Mac said. "And they aren't
military. I think, under the circumstance, they can be forgiven for running a few minutes late."

At that moment, a brief knock sounded at the door and
Mulder and Scully walked in. They were the very
epitome of professionalism, the only contact between
them the light touch of his hand at the small of her
back.

"Sorry we're late, sir," Scully said. But she didn't
offer any excuses as to what had delayed them.

"Apology accepted," the Captain replied. "Sit down
agents, and explain to me exactly how these Sailors
died."

Once the report had been completed, the Captain said.
"We're headed into port now. We'll dock early tomorrow morning. Unless getting back to shore is a matter of some urgency for you, it would probably be easier for you just to wait and disembark then."

"That will be fine," Mulder answered.

The JAG officers and the agents both stood up. "In
case we don't see each other again before leaving the
ship, it's been a real pleasure working with you," Mac said, holding her hand out to Scully.

"Likewise," Mulder replied, reaching out to shake
hands with Harm.