Part 2 of 3

"What'd you think of them?" Chee asked Bernadette as
he manuvered their car over a gravel road parallel to
the one the federal agents were on.

"I like her," Bernadette answered promptly. "We got to talking while you were out tracking. She takes her job seriously and she's also a person of deep religious faith, which I always respect."

"Which faith?"

"Christian. Catholic Christian."

"And him?"

"You asking me if I like him or if I know his
religious beliefs?"

"Either. Both."

"He didn't mention his beliefs, so I don't know. As
far as liking him. . .I don't know. I haven't dealt
with nearly as many feds as you have, of course, but
he seems better than most."

Chee chuckled at that. "You're damning the man with
faint praise, Bernadette."

Later that day, the two couples met at the restaurant
they had agreed on.  After all four had ordered, and
the waitress had brought their drinks and bowls of
chips and salsa for them to snack on, they began to
discuss the case.

"Well, what did you find out from your examination?"
Chee asked, turning his attention to Scully.

Bernadette noticed with amusement that Mulder's arm
snaked along the back of the booth behind Scully's
shoulders when Chee was speaking. It was as if the
agent was subtly staking a claim. Bernadette could
have told him he had nothing to worry about. First,
she didn't think Jim was interested in dating anybody
at the moment; he was still recovering from his affair with Janet Pete. Secondly, after what had happened in a previous relationship, she doubted he'd ever seriously consider a romance with anyone other than a Navajo woman. Thirdly, a female F.B.I. agent would be the last person in the world Jim would get involved with, no matter how attractive she was. Bernadette admitted to herself that the woman sitting across the table was attractive. Of course, so was her male partner. Bernadette was a traditional Navajo who would never want to actually get involved with a belagana, but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate gazing at a good-looking man of another race.

"It's difficult to say. He died from internal injuries which could have been sustained during a fall into a rocky canyon. They also could have been the result of a severe beating, probably by more than one person. Even if it was the result of a fall, he could have been pushed," Scully said.

"So there was nothing out of the ordinary?" Bernadette asked.

"Well, there was one odd detail. I noticed a tiny
pinprick on his wrist. As if he'd been injected with
something there."

"Agent Scully are you suggesting he was drugged, then
pushed into a canyon or beaten to death?" Chee asked.

"I'm saying it's a possibility we need to consider,"
Scully replied.

"We talked to some of his relatives," Chee said. "I
think I know where he was when he died. Bernadette and I are going to check it out tomorrow. You two are
welcome to go with us, but we'll need to get an early
start and it might turn into an overnight trip."

"We've got the gear for that," Mulder said. "We camped out last night."

"There's a motel just down the block," Bernadette
said. "A relative of mine manages it. It's not fancy,
but the rooms are clean and the rates are reasonable.
You two could stay there tonight and Jim and I could
pick you up first thing in the morning."

"Sounds good to me," said Scully. "Believe me, clean
and well-managed is better than I've come to expect in a motel. You should see some of the rattraps we've
stayed in over the years."

"Do you travel a lot in your work?" Bernadette ask.
Since they had exhausted all possible avenues
concerning the case until tomorrow morning, she
thought it might be nice to turn the conversation over to more general matters. Maybe she could even pretend that she and Jim were a couple, meeting friends for dinner. That would be a laugh, she admitted to herself. Jim had kindly, but clearly, indicated he thought of her more as a younger sister than a sexy woman. And he certainly wouldn't have chose to have dinner with a couple of feds it it were a purely social occasion.

"Extensively," Scully said. "We've racked up more
frequent flyer miles than most pilots!"

"I wouldn't like that," Bernadette said, almost shyly. "I could imagine being away from Navajo land very long."

"It must be nice to have that sort of connection to a
place," Scully said. "I never have."

"Where'd you grow up, Agent Scully?" Chee asked
grudginly, aware that Bernadette was going to kick him if he didn't make some attempt to be sociable.

"All over. I was a Navy brat. The sound of waves or
the smell of saltwater makes me homesick, but not for
any particular place."

Chee turned to the other man. What he was about to say might impress the agents if he was right. On the other hand, if he was wrong, it would just confirm his reputation as Chee-the-moron among the feds. "You grew up in New England, right?"

"Yeah," Mulder answered, surprised. "How'd you know?"

"I dated a woman who was from there. Went back with
her once, to visit her folks. I thought I detected a
trace of the accent, that's all."

Mulder had been impressed earlier by Chee's visual
acuity. He was doubly impressed now, realizing that
the man used all his senses to anaylze and catalog
information.

After they had eaten and were leaving the restaurant,
Chee said, "Early means EARLY, agents. There's a
coffee shop next to the motel. It opens at five. Meet
us there then. We'll all grab a quick bite to eat and
be on our way."

"Will do," Mulder answered.

Arriving at the motel, Mulder didn't even bother to go through the rigamarole of requesting two separate
rooms. They were, as far as he could figure, about 297 miles away from the nearest F.B.I. field office and he sincerely doubted that the 12-unit cinderblock motel ran to rooms with connecting doors. Anyway, Skinner knew they were married and he was the one who approved their expense accounts.

Once they got inside their room, Scully collapsed on
the bed and sighed. "I don't know what I want first;
to take a shower or take a nap in an actual bed."

"It's too late for a nap, babe. Let's take a shower
now, work on the case or watch TV for a while, then go to bed."

"Are you suggesting we share the shower, Agent
Mulder?"

"Well, see, the guy at the registration desk said that all guests are asked to limit their showers to no more than five minutes, in order to conserve water. But, the way I figure it, we can stay under for ten minutes if we only have one shower between us. Combine my five minutes with your five minutes."

"Is that all you're planning on combining in the
shower?"

"I'll be good, Scully. I promise. Well, at least while we're in the shower. I make no guarantees for the rest of the evening," he said with a grin.

Amazingly enough, he kept his promise. Except for a
quick kiss and a long slide down her back and bottom
with his large, soapy hands, Mulder actually behaved
himself while they were in the shower together. Scully didn't know if she should be relieved he'd kept his promise or worried that the honeymoon was over.

When they had dried off and gotten dressed, after a
fashion (he was in his black silk boxers and heather
gray T-shirt, she was in her turquoise pajamas),
Mulder sat down in the room's lone chair, by the
rickety table, and began working on his portable
computer.

Scully got her computer out and began working too,
transcribing her hurried autopsy notes into a formal
reporty. After they'd been working for over an hour,
she discovered an anamoly and said, "Hey, Mulder! Come look at this."

Engrossed in his own work, he ignored her.

"Mulder!"

"In a minute," he murmured.

When a few more minutes had passed, she stomped her
foot and said, impatiently, "Could you pay some
attention to me, please?"

Mulder looked up at that and gave her a smile that
sent Scully's heart into overdrive. Removing his
glasses, he stretched his shoulders and said, "Sure,
Scully. What kind of attention do you want? Husband
attention or partner attention?"

"Um," she gulped.

"I mean, I'll be happy to give you whatever kind of
attention you want - for as long as you want it - but
I just need to know whether I should take my clothes
off or not."

"Right NOW," she said, attempting to make her voice
sound firm and failing miserably, "I am attempting to
have a work-related discussion with you."

"Oh. What?" he asked, coming to sit beside her on the
bed.

"Look at this. It indicates high levels of residusal
nicotine in his hair and nails. As if he'd been a
heavy smoker. But Eric didn't smoke."

"Are you sure?"

"The form the family filled out says he didn't. And
we're not talking about sneaking a quick smoke behind
the barn or whatever. These nicotine levels would
indicate a two- or three-pack a day habit. He'd have
had to be a chain smoker, puffing away almost
continuously, to have this level of nicotine in his
blood."

"You thinking what I'm thinking, Scully?"

"We can't blame Spender Senior for everything but,
yeah, that's what I'm thinking."

"I'm still not making the connection, exactly."

"Well, nicotine can be used as a sedative. Maybe he
was drugged before he was pushed into the canyon. It
would explain where there were no obvious signs of him being dragged or otherwise putting up a fight."

"We'll need to share this with Chee. Maybe, when we go out to the site where Chee believes Eric was actually killed, we can find some sort of evidence."

"Yeah, that seems to be out best hope."

"You about ready to quit working?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," she replied, shutting her computer. "We
could see what's on TV."

"Well, yeah, we COULD," he agreed, letting his hand
wander up and down her thigh, stroking lightly.

"Or we could go straight to sleep," she suggested,
then gasped when he fastened his mouth onto her neck
and began to nibble and suck.

"Well, yeah, we COULD do that, too," he agreed,
pushing her gently down, so she lay flat on her back,
with him looming over her.

"OR," he suggested, "I could forget I'm an F.B.I.
agent for a while and just remember that I'm a man
with an incredibly beautiful wife and an incredible
hard-on and that we're lying on a bed in a motel room
with hardly any clothes on!"

"Um, I think I like that idea best!"

Mulder smiled and kissed her. Long, slow and deep.
Flaunting his height and strength, all masculine
arrogance and need. Oh, God, she loved this, Scully
thought, not sure, even in her own mind, if she were
cursing or sending up a prayer of thanksgiving.

She could feel him through the double layer of silk -
his shorts and her pajamas - hard and long and
throbbing against her belly. That wasn't good enough,
though, so she snaked a hand between their bodies and
beneath the waistband of his shorts and began to
stroke him.

He groaned into her mouth, then broke the kiss to bury his face in her hair. He licked her ear, then blew in it and nipped the lobe lightly. Finally, he reached down and dislodged her hand, entwining their fingers together.

"You're too good, Scully. You keep that up any longer
and I'm going to come in your hand. Which will not
only be not as much fun for us, but might be
embarrassing when Bernadette's uncle washes the
sheets!"

She laughed, but the sound turned to a moan as he
quickly undid the buttons of her pajama top and
latched on to one of her breasts. He managed to suck
while, at the same time, flicking her nipple rapidly
with his tongue.

"You are sooo good at that," she murmured. "Back
before we were married I used to watch you sometimes,
with your damned sunflower seeds, and wonder what your marvelous mouth would feel like on me."

He removed his mouth from her breast just long enough
to murmur, "Oh, I'm only getting started, sweetheart." Then he transferred his attention to her other breast.

After both breasts were wet and taunt, he began to
move lower, dropping kisses along her abdomen until he came to the waistband of her pajamas. He paused
briefly to grin at her, then slid them off. Pushing up one leg so that it was bent at the knee, he lay flat on his stomach and buried his head between her thighs.

When she felt his lips on her core, Scully jerked. She wondered dazedly if she would climax this way; she often did. This time, however, after licking her for only a brief time, Mulder pulled away. She moaned in protest.

"Shh! I'm just taking off my clothes, so we can get to the main event!"

Scully brought her other knee up, so there was room
for him to position himself atop her. Reaching down to guide him into herself, she gave a smile radiant
enough to light up an entire city. He moved slowly at
first, making sure she was aroused enough to welcome
his length and weight. When she began to whimper, he
picked up the pace.

"Oh yeah! Yeah, Mulder! Please, Fox!"

"You like this, Dana?"

She didn't answer him verbally; she was beyond that.
Instead, she moaned and dug her fingernails into his
biceps as he felt her begin to pulse around him. She
went on and on, but he was happy to wait. When she
finally stopped throbbing, he began moving inside her
again. His own orgasm almost caught him by surprise,
coming after only a few more quick thrusts inside her.

As he positioned them on their sides, spooned next to
each other, so they could sleep, he reached for his
watch on the nightstand.

"Whatcha doing?" she asked sleepily.

"Setting the alarm on my watch for four. We want to be up, packed and out of here before Chee and Bernadette arrive at five."

"Yeah, that could prove embarrassing, if they knocked
on the door while we were still getting dressed."

"Do you think they're romantically involved, Dana?"

"Mmm," she said slowly, considering. "No, not yet. But not because they don't want to be. At least, she wants them to be. That's obvious. They sort of remind me of us, like we were a couple of years ago. I can't figure him out. He certainly cares about her, but I can't really tell if he doesn't want to get romantically involved with her because he honestly doesn't like her in that sense or if there's some other reason."

"My guess is - some other reason."

"Such as?"

"Well, just for starters, they're not partners like we are. He's her boss. That's always a tricky situation for a man, coming onto a woman who works for him. If it turns out he's misreading the signals, sexual harrassment charges are a very real possibility. He might also feel the age difference between them is somewhat significant; it's not like he's old enough to be her father or anything, but he's got to be at least eight years older than she is, maybe closer to ten. My take on the whole think is this: he's aware of what she's offering and he'd really like to take advantage of it; but because he's her boss and because of the age difference he thinks that if he did he might be, well, taking advantage of her."

"In other words, poor Bernadette has found another one of you guys who keep avoiding the women they love in a quest to be noble."

"Um, yeah. I guess maybe so."

"I love you. I'm glad you finally stopped being noble
and asked me to marry you."

"So am I. I love you, too. G'night."

***

When Chee and Bernadette began weeding their way
through the darkened, pre-dawn streets of Farmington,
it was a quarter of an hour before the agreed meeting
time with the agents. Traffic was virtually
non-existant, however, and it was still ten minutes
before five when they arrived at the motel.

"Wonder what rooms the federal agents are in?" Chee
asked sullenly. He didn't like dealing with the F.B.I
and even if Mulder and Scully were better than most
agents, he still wasn't pleased with having them tag
along while he investigated a possible homicide on the reservation.

"We're early," Bernadette pointed out.

"There's only one room with a light on - that one at
the end," Chee stated. "This does not look good.
Either one of the agents has overslept or one of them
has gone someplace without us. Either way, it's going
to cause problems." He got out of his truck and shut
the door, then walked toward the lighted room.

"Uh, Jim," Bernadette said, hurrying after him. She
could think of a logical reason why there might be
only one light on, but which would account for the
presence of both the agents. She'd seen the way Scully and Mulder had gazed at each other when the four of them were having dinner last night. She'd also noticed some touching that seemed to go just a bit beyond the "casual friends" level. She doubted that Jim had noticed. No one was better than he was at noticing subtle details or abnormalities in the landscape, which was the reason he was just about the best tracker in four states. But, as she'd noticed before, the subtleties of human interactions - particularly between non-Navajos - were often lost on her boss.

Chee had reached the door and began knocking on it
before Bernadette could catch up with him. After a
brief pause, a startled Agent Fox Mulder opened the
door.

"Is my watch wrong or did I misunderstand you?" Mulder asked. "I thought we weren't meeting for another ten minutes and then it was supposed to be at the coffee shop next door."

"Where's Agent Scully?" Chee demanded.

"We'll be at the coffee shop in just a few minutes,"
Mulder responded.

"Look, either she's not awake yet or she's not at the
motel," Chee said. "This is the only unit with a light on."

"Agent Scully and I will met you and Officer Manuelito in the coffee shop at the agreed-upon time," Mulder said, beginning to look flustered.

Bernadette felt sorry for Mulder. If he and his
partner wanted to share a motel room, it wasn't any of her business. Or Chee's. Grabbing onto Jim's arm and pulling hard, she said, "We'll see you there, Agent Mulder."

***

"Honestly, Jim!" Bernadette exploded as they walked
toward the coffee shop. "We finally run into a pair of feds who treat us with a little bit of dignity, who actually show some respect for our beliefs, and you have to go out of your way in an attempt to humiliate them!"

Chee stared at Bernadette. He couldn't believe she was yelling at him in public. Like most traditional
Navajos, she was polite almost to a fault. There was
also the fact that she seemed to have a crush on him
and usually went out of her way to be especially nice, almost flattering, when speaking to him. Not to
mention the fact that he was, at least temporarily,
her superior on the force. Then, of course, there was
the fact that he didn't have the foggiest notion what
she was yelling at him ABOUT, anyway!

"Don't you want to know where Agent Scully is?" he
asked.

"I'm fairly sure I DO know, Jim! She's back there in
that motel room!"

"Why would she be in her partner's motel room at this
hour of the morning?"

Bernadette heaved a put-upon sigh. "For heaven's sake, Jim! Didn't anyone ever tell you about the birds and the bees?"

Chee flushed a brick red as understanding finally hit
him. "You mean you think Agent Scully and Agent Mulder are sleeping together? Just because she's a woman and he's a man?"

"No, not just because of that! It was fairly obvious
last night; the way they talked, the way they touched, the way they looked at each other. Women notice these things. I tried to tell you as we were getting out of the truck, but you started pounding on the door before I had a chance!"

"I think the bureau has rules against that sort of
thing," Chee said.

"I'm sure it does," Bernadette answered. "That's
probably why Agent Mulder looked so flustered. They're probably panicking right now, afraid we're going to narc on them to their superior."

***

Dana Scully emerged from the bathroom to look at her
husband. "Chee?" she asked.

"Yeah. And Bernadette. We're busted, Scully."

"Sorry. It's my fault, I guess. If I hadn't insisted
on making one last visit to the bathroom before we
left civilization. . ."

"It was bound to happen sometime, Dana. Do you want to put our rings back on?" During working hours, Scully wore both their wedding rings suspended on a necklace tucked inside her shirt. Just a few minutes ago, they'd slipped the rings off their fingers and back onto the chain.

"Why?"

"Because," Mulder answered, "old-fashioned and
chauvanistic as it may sound, if people know we're
sleeping together, I'd just as soon they know we're
married. I don't want people to think you're. . .the
kind of woman who sleeps around."

"I think the word you're looking for is chivalrous,
not chauvanistic, Fox. Let's leave our rings off for a while. I"ll talk to Bernadette later, explain the
situation."

***

After an uneasy breakfast, the two pairs of law
enforcement officials drove in their own vehicles
toward the site Chee felt was likely to shed some
light on Eric's death. Because the roads were rough -
in some places little more than tracks in the hard
packed dirt - going was slow and it was several hours
before they reached their destination.

An hour into the investigation, Chee lay flat on his
stomach and peered down into a narrow crevice. "I
think there's something down here, but I need a way to fish it out. A chain or something. Bernadette, are you wearing a necklace?"

"No, Jim. I don't usually wear jewelry when I'm
working."

"You, Agent Scully?"

"Uh, yeah, Chee. I've got two necklaces on. How logn
of a chain do you need?"

"Whichever is longer. That'll give me more room to
manuver."

Scully slipped off the longer of her two necklaces and unfastened it. She slid her own wedding ring on her finger and handed Chee the necklace, then nudged
Mulder. When he looked at her with a raised eyebrow,
she held out his ring to him, flat on the palm of her
hand. He smiled and put it on.

Later, they looked at what Chee had found. A folded,
empty cigarette package. Morleys. Scully and Mulder
looked at each other and nodded. Cancer Man, aka
Spender Senior.

Chee - with some help from the others - finished his
survey of the crime scene just about dusk. Deciding it would be too treacherous to navigate the winding
mountain roads after dark, the four agreed to camp
there overnight and leave at dawn.

As they built a fire and cooked quick meal, they
discussed their theories as to who had killed Eric and why. Suddenly, Bernadette turned her head rapidly from where she had been looking at Scully to stare at
Mulder. His hands, particularly. The she interrupted
Scully, something a well-bred Navajo such as she
almost never did. "You two are MARRIED to each
other??" she said. It was half-question, half-comment.

"Yes," Scully said.

"Why didn't you mention that yesterday?" Bernadette
demanded, while Chee sat stupefied by this
announcement.

"We usually don't mention our personal relationship
during working hours," Scully said slowly. "To people
we meet professionally, we're partners. I guess we
really ought to have told you two this morning, since
it was fairly obvious that we were sleeping in the
same room last night."

"But, what?" Chee asked, a slightly sarcastic twinge
to his voice. "It's a big secret that only ohter feds
can be let in on? Local law enforcement officers -
especially dumb Indians - can't be trusted with this
knowledge? We don't have the right security
clearance?"

"Almost the exact opposite, actually," Mulder said
slowly. "We don't mind you two knowing. We'd prefer
not to have it broadcast to other members of the
bureau, however, since, technically, what we're doing
is a breach of protocol."

"You mean you're keeping your marriage a secret from
the rest of the bureau?" Bernadette asked.

"I wouldn't use the word 'secret' exactly," Scully
answered. "We informed our immediate superior of our
marriage and he's the one who granted us an exemption
from the policy that usually prohibits married couples from working as partners. A few of the other bureau employees know. But the main condition of our
exemption is that we maintain a certain amount of -
well, we prefer to use the word 'discretion' rather
than 'secrecy' as to the exact nature of our personal
relationship. That's why we don't generally wear our
rings during working hours. We've never lied about our relationship. If people ASK us if we're married, like you just did, we tell the truth. But we don't. .
.volunteer information."

"When we get busted - and we probably will, sooner or
later," Mulder said, "it's not really going to be our
butts that are on the line. They'll just separate us,
send us off to work in different divisions. I worry
more about how much trouble Skinner - our boss - will
be in for letting us stay together this long."

"What will you do if they assign you to different
parts of the country?" Chee asked. It was the sort of
question that had come up often in his relationship
with Janet Pete. One they had never been able to
resolve to their mutual satisfaction.

"Hopefully, they won't be that. . .vindicative,"
Mulder said. "Before we began working together on the
X-Files, Scully taught out at Quantico and I was on
the violent crimes squad. We're assuming they'll just
send us back to those assignments, which would mean
we'll both still be based in the Washington area."

"But they could assign one or both of you to a field
office, couldn't they?" Bernadette asked.

"Yeah," Mulder agreed. "They could."

"And what if they do?" Chee asked.

"Then I go - or stay - wherever Mulder is assigned,"
Scully replied. "If that means I have to turn in my
bade and seek another line of employment. . .well,
then, that's what it means. They tried to separate us
a couple of years ago, before we were married. Wanted
to send me out near here, actually. Salt Lake City. I
told them I would resign from the bureau if they
didn't let me stay in the Washington area. The reason
I gave for wanting to remain there was that my mother, who is a widow with no other children on the East Coast, lives in the Washington area. Technically, that's true, and a desire to stay near her was part of the reason I wouldn't leave. But, to be honest, if they'd assigned Mulder and me both to Salt Lake City, would have gone. It meant passing up a promotion, but the bureau is trying to improve its percentage of women agents and I've got a good record, so they let me stay."

"Scully, I don't think you should just make these
unconditional offers to put my career ahead of your
own. IF they ever try to send us to opposite ends of
the country, then we can discuss what to do about it," Mulder said.

"Sure, we can discuss it," Scully replied. "Then we'll go wherever they send you."

"What about your Mom? What you said is true; the two
of you are very close," Mulder challenged. "What will
she do if I get assigned to head up the field office
in Anchorage, Alaska or someplace?"

"She could always come with us. I don't mean live in
the same house as we do, but get her own place in the
same city. She was a Navy wife for over 30 years,
Mulder. It's not like she's not used to packing up and moving when the occasion demands it," Scully replied. "She followed my Dad all over the world and, if push comes to shove, I'm not willing to do any less for my husband than she did for him."

"Yeah, but," Mulder spluttered.

Bernadette let out a good-natured giggle at the
argument the agents were having. She did like Dana,
now more than ever. On the surface, Agent Scully was a hard-nosed career woman. Underneath, however, it was obvious that the well-being of those she loved,
particularly her husband and mother, came first with
her.

Chee had followed the conversation between the two
feds with interest and a growing, grudging respect. In many ways, it was reminiscent of the conversations he and Janet used to have about their respective
careeers. However, it was different in one fundamental way. In those conversations, he had wanted what was best for him and Janet what was best for her. Mulder and Scully each wanted what was best for their spouse, even if it meant derailing their own careers. He supposed that was the difference between actually LOVING another person and simply feelinga mixture of affection and - to be honest - lust for a woman. When it was true love, you wanted what was best for her, even if it conflicted with your own interests.

As the nigth grew later, they discussed the
ramifications of what they knew and what they
suspected. All four of them agreed a visit to the
F.B.I. field office in Phoenix was next on their
agenda.

Finally, Chee said, "It's getting late. What are we
going to do about sleeping arrangments?" When he had
first issued the invitation for the four of them to
camp together, he had assumed that the women would
sleep on one side of the campfire and the men on the
other. However, that was before he knew Mulder and
Scully were married. One thing that held true in both
the Navajo and white cultures was that married couples generally liked to sleep next to each other. Which would leave Bernadette and him in the awkward positon of sleeping next to each other, as well.

"Well, we've got about eight hours until it will be
light enough for us to break camp and get going,"
Mulder said with a glance at the illuminated dial of
his wristwatch. "Just to be on the safe side, I think
we should take turns keeping watch. I doubt anyone
will be coming back to this site, but we can't be
certain of that. We can do two-hour shifts. I'll take
the first watch, if that's okay, and Scully can take
the second shift."

"No you don't, Mulder," Scully said with a smile. "If
you assign us back-to-back shifts, I know what will
happen. You'll end up taking my watch as well as your
own, letting me get a full night's rest while you're
reduced to only fours hours of sleep!"

"I'll take the second shift, then Bernadette," Chee
suggested. "Agent Scully can go last."

Mulder and Scully spread their sleeping bags out on
one side of the campfire. Chee and Bernadette arranged theirs in a sort of awkward triangle pattern, where their feet were near each other.