#and then its just ripped away from her...the slow reveal of how the aliens RELISH in her suffering.....god

[dapperrokyuu]

Yall ever marvel what an amazing piece of storytelling My Clematis is? I was HOOKED from the get-go, and I had no idea what the future entailed, Round 1 was just so good...

[jedifighterpilot2727]

The Rook - Chapter 2

Okay, here's chapter two!

*Tissue warning*

The song for this one is 'Snuff' by Slipknot! Even if you're not a Slipknot fan, listen because it's slow and emotional! perfectly matches the chapter!!

"And I won't listen to your shame You ran away, you're all the same Angels lie to keep control Ooh, my love was punished long ago If you still care don't ever let me know"

Snuff

After that, she starts bringing her lunch.

She’s an independent woman who doesn’t need anyone to bring her lunch.

And honestly, she would just skip the meal altogether, but she promised Kara awhile back that she would always at least try to eat lunch, and even after everything that’s happened, she can’t bring herself to break that promise.

There’s one small part of her that still believes someone cares if she skips lunch or works too late. Kara’s care for her is so ingrained that it almost feels satisfying to plop the tupperware container down on Jess’ desk.

She can take care of herself, thank you very much.

She definitely doesn’t need Kara to remind her.

“Here’s my lunch for today, so if Kara comes by, you can let her know that it’s already taken care of.”

Jess looks from the container to Lena’s face and back again.

“Did you buy tupperware just so you could bring your own lunch?”

Lena refuses to give an answer.

“If Kara comes by, let her know I already have lunch.”

“Lovers’ quarrel?” Jess asks with a smirk.

Lena huffs.

“We’re not lovers.”

“Okay, my bad, platonic friend that brings me lunch everyday and when we fight I get super competitive and insist on brining my own lunch too. Whatever you say, boss.” Jess rolls her eyes and reaches for the container before storing it in the fridge.

"I needed new glass ware anyway, and you know I’ve been trying to learn more recipes.” Lena can’t help but point out.

“Yeah, so you could make Kara homemade potstickers.”

For a brief moment, Lena regrets hiring an assistant so willing to stand up to her.

“Well, I guess she’ll regret being difficult, won’t she? Especially considering I just perfected the soy garlic sauce.”

She desperately wants to tell Jess the whole story, but she refuses to tell more people Kara’s secret identity.

“Just let me know when you want this heated up, I’ll bring it in.”

“Thanks, Jess, you’re the best.”

“That’s what you tell me!” Jess reminds  her with a wink, and Lena rolls her eyes good naturedly before heading into her office.

Some things never change.

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s week before she finally opens up the note.

A week of it sitting on her desk, Kara’s loopy scrawl calling out to her.

She ignores it on purpose - she knows the moment she lets Kara explain herself, she’s going to fold, at least a little.

She’s a sucker for Kara, there’s no denying it, and she refuses to let a soft smile and gentle word talk her out of being angry.

She deserves to be angry.

Her best friend lied to her about something huge, and she deserves the time it takes to be mad.

It’s not fair, none of this is fair.

Her best friend lying to her about her secret identity.

Falling in love with her best friend.

Her homicidal brother revealing her best friend’s identity.

Her best friend coming clean but also confessing her love.

It’s not FAIR.

And just for once, she though life might be working in her favor.

When Kara came into her life with sunny smiles and unwavering belief, she thought things had finally changed, thought she was finally getting away from Lex’s legacy.

But no, of course Kara had to be Supergirl.

Of course her visions of a life with a way too cheerful reporter were too good to be true.

She had imagined a simple life - one where Kara would text her at 4 to make sure she’d be home by 5.

One where they’d adopt a little girl, and the worst fight she and Kara would have would be about how much help was too much help on a science project. (Kara would win, obviously).

Kara would make sure she ate lunch, and Lena would make sure Kara ate vegetables.

Kara would be there at every L-Corp press conference, and Lena would be there when Kara won a Pulitzer.

They would be a perfect match, and Lena would finally feel like she had a family -  even Alex would finally warm up to her.

But no, every vision dancing in her head had to come crashing down.

Because of course her best friend has to be Supergirl.

Nothing can be easy.

Ever since she was a little kid, she hoped to be adopted by a simple family and have a simple life. One where her mom would come to all her soccer games and her dad would show her how to change a tire.

But no, of course she didn’t get that, of course she was adopted into the Luthor’s, the most controversial family on the planet, where Lilian certainly didn’t support her, and the only thing Lionel taught her was how to hate aliens.

Something that definitely didn’t stick, fortunately.

Despite Lex’s constant rhetoric.

She somehow manages to make it through all of the shit that the Luthors throw at her, only to find out that her best  friend is Supergirl.

Of course.

She can’t escape, it’s inevitable.

So when she finally reads the note, it’s in a moment of weakness.

She can’t resist the pull.

No matter the cost, no matter the fact that she wants to hate Kara.

She can’t help it.

  Lena, I know you’re hurt and I know that I’m the reason. I also know that you need time to process, so when you’re ready to talk, just press this button and I’ll be there. Please know that I never meant to hurt you.  - Kara

She stares at it for longer than she’d like to admit.

She doesn’t know what she’s expecting.

(It’s certainly not a small button that fits in the palm of her hand, accompanied by an unwavering promise.)

It angers her, to be honest; riles up a part of her that had felt numb ever since Kara’s secret had been revealed.

How dare she, for starters.

How dare Kara try to say that she’ll be there for Lena when she’s lied to her so much over the past three years.

Like she’s some goody-two-shoes goddess and Lena is just supposed to bow to her righteousness.

Umm, no.

Lena may be a Luthor, but she’s plenty good enough on her own.

At least for Supergirl standards.

She saved the world from the Daxamite invasion; she’s saved Supergirl on numerous occasions; she helped save Sam, at one point she was working on a cure for cancer, she even killed Lex Luthor, the greatest threat to humanity for god’s sake.

So how dare Kara act holier than thou.

She’s not the one who’s been lying to her best friend for the past three years.

She drinks four glasses of Scotch that night before she can go to sleep without thinking about blue eyes.

* - - - - - - - - - -

Turns out, the more she thinks about it, the angrier she gets.

She thought that reading Kara’s note would make her cave to Kara’s point of view, when in fact it does the opposite.

She’s fueled with an anger that she doesn’t quite understand.

She’s never really believed in herself the way that she does after Kara’s betrayal. Because if Kara doesn’t believe in her, who will?

Lena will, that’s who.

She’s nothing if not determined, and she’s always been a fan of the underdog.

It just so happens that she’s the underdog.

Certainly she of all people was worthy of knowing Supergirl’s true identity.

She was Kara’s self proclaimed ‘best friend’.

Kara allegedly was in love with her.

She deserved the truth.

The truth that had been withheld from her for so long.

And now that she had the truth, she understood the saying ‘ignorance is bliss.”

But on the other hand, she was grateful for the anger, it gave her a purpose.

A purpose that came to a screeching halt at 4:45 on a Friday while she was finishing up an investor’s report.

One text message is all it took.

It had been 2 weeks and 3 days since she last heard from Kara.

And as much as she’s loathe to admit it, it hasn’t exactly been an enjoyable time.

She’s missed her friend.

No matter what happened between them; she’s missed Kara - in a way unlike she’s missed anyone else.

To never have something and to miss its existence is one thing, but to have it and it be taken away is another entirely.

So when she get’s Kara’s text as she’s finishing up donor proposals, it throws her for a loop.

She hates the way it breaks her concentration, the way it makes her glance at he phone every few minutes.

Still, she refuses to open the message; powering through the proposals before moving on to the background checks for a group of new hires.

That stings too, Alex had offered to help her with them, but she supposed that’s a moot point now.

She almost relishes skipping dinner - knowing the pout it would have brought to Kara’s face just a few weeks ago. She replaces the meal with a glass of Balvenie, and has a second for dessert,

It’s then, with the alcohol buzzing along her veins just enough to blur her judgement, that she looks at Kara’s message.

“Game night at 8, my place. I know you probably don’t want to come, but I would love to see you there. “

Glancing her watch, she sees it’s past 9:30, though she’s sure the gang is still going strong over a rousing Pictionary or the like.

Not that it matters, she wouldn’t go anyway.

The warmth of the alcohol in her stomach, settles like cold water, and another refill starts to sound like a good idea.

Kara acts like it’s an easy decision, but it’s not. As much as she craves the familiarity of game night; how is she supposed to show her face when literally everyone knew the secret but her?

It’s humiliating and degrading, and she refuses to be apart of it.                                                                                                                  

In fact, the more she thinks about it, the angrier she gets.

Not only did she get played like a fool for three years while the woman she thought was her best friend, the woman she thought she loved, lied to her face; she was just supposed to spend time with all of the people who were in on the secret?

Why?

So they could make a mockery of her?

Of her friendship?

Of her intelligence?

The great Lena Luthor, finally tricked into believing in found family, only to have it ripped away from her like some sort of cruel joke.

No.

She is not some pawn on a chess board to played for someone else’s agenda.

Not Lilian, not Lex, and not Supergirl.

And certainly not Kara, if that’s even her real name.

She supposes, in the chessboard of her life, that Supergirl is the most like the the King.

Almighty but one dimensional.

Always right, always lawful, always good.

Alex is the Bishop.

Right hand to the King, powerful in her own right, but willing to move in ways the King isn’t able to.

Up until recently, she would have considered Kara as the Queen, the most important - at least to her.

Kara is beautiful and talented and magnificent. She’s selfless and kindhearted and completely unwavering in her belief in Lena.

At least, Kara was all of those things.

Since she’s learned that Kara and Supergirl are one and the same, she isn’t quite sure how to reconcile the two in her mind.

It didn’t seem right now that someone as pure as Kara was is now tainted by the self-righteousness of Supergirl.

She never thought that Kara, her Kara, would keep such a massive secret from her for so long; and now that she knows the truth, it’s as if her world is shifted.

At one time, Lena would have considered herself the Rook - a handy asset to the King and more than willing to sacrifice herself for the Queen, but now . . .

She’s been in protective mode for so long, protecting herself, protecting Kara, protecting her company, protecting all the people that Lilian and Lex have tried to hurt, protecting Supergirl even; that she has to reorient herself to attack mode.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - The chess game on her side table is one that she and Kara have been working on for weeks.

Kara had insisted on Lena teaching her chess about six months into their friendship, and ever since, they’ve kept a game going. The first few dozen were pitifully easy - Lena’s been playing chess since she was adopted by the Luthors, and Kara was just starting.

But still, it was fun teaching and playing a game that she’s enjoyed for so long with her best friend.

Kara was an eager learner, and her sunny disposition was a fun distraction to Lena’s usual somber playing.

Not to mention, she was good.

Lena hasn’t had much of a competitor since she stopped playing with Lex when he went to college.

Much to her surprise, Kara learns quickly and easily gives Lena a run for her money.

It would be disconcerting, but she knows Kara is smarter that she looks - that her best friend holds on to her ‘dumb blonde’ persona to throw people off.

Still, as she keeps teaching Kara chess, she quickly discovers that her best friend has a knack for the game. So much so that their current game is about to end in a draw - something Lena hasn’t experienced in years.

At first, when it became apparent that the game might be headed in that direction, Lena was excited; finally a partner who could almost beat her at chess (even Jack hadn’t been able to beat her when they’d dated.). but now, as she stares at the stalemate chess board, she gets angry.

Of course Kara is good at chess.

She’s an alien from an advanced planet that probably would find chess to be a dumb children’s game.

Her whole perception of her best friend has changed since the revelation, and everything around her reminds her of that.

In fact, the whole secret is starting to feel like a cold, calculated chess move.

Frowning, she rises from her chair and moves to the lead-lined safe under her in-office bar.

She’s been working on something for months, something she thinks will finally bring Supergirl to her knees.

* - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The elevator ride to the rooftop passes in a scotch induced haze, the glass in her hand lending to her already substantial buzz.  She knows she shouldn’t, but alcohol seems to be the only way she can get through what she’s about to do.

The night breeze is cool as she steps out onto L-Corp’s rooftop, and it sends her curls flitting about her face.

She smirks, having her hair down has always been one of Kara’s weaknesses - all the more reason for her choice. The red lip, the cascading curls, the low neckline - all chosen to aid her cause.  

Breaking Supergirl’s heart.

Slowly, she makes her way to the edge of the roof, the wind getting stronger as she goes.

She takes a deep breath, downing the rest of her glass before stepping up to the edge.

Looking down, she can see all of National City stretched out before her. She can hear the honks of cars in traffic, and the distant sounds of police sirens. She kicks off her shoes onto the roof, unwilling to let them become missiles to the bystanders below.

Taking a deep breath, she steels herself for what’s about to come.

Shakily, she lowers herself to sit on the edge of the roof. She’s never been a huge fan of heights, but for this it seems fitting; meeting Supergirl on her own turf. Setting her now empty glass down beside her, she reaches for the switch Kara had left her. After a long moment, she flips it; the hairs on her arm standing at attention - either from the cold or anticipation, she isn’t sure.

Regardless, she doesn’t have to wait long until a voice sounds behind her.

“Lena?” There’s a slight panic in Supergirl’s voice, and Lena answers her without turning around.

“Relax, Supergirl, I’m not going to jump.” She turns, a smirk twisting the right side of her face. “And even if I did, you’d catch me, wouldn’t you?”

The super hero’s shoulders visibly drop, and she steps towards Lena until her boots are even with the edge, lowering herself down so that she’s sitting on the edge next to Lena, shoulders almost touching.

“Always.” Kara whispers so softly that Lena almost misses it.

There was a time when Lena would have leaned into the touch, body begging for Kara to wrap an arm around her, but now things have changed. So much that Lena fights the urge to adjust away from her -  instead sitting ramrod straight, her fingers digging into the uneven brick.

They sit in silence for a long moment before Kara finally speaks.

“I was beginning to think you’d never call for me.”

Instead of responding, Lena ignores her.

“Was game night still going?”  she asks instead.

“Yeah, we were just starting charades when you called, but  . . . you’re more important.”

That almost does Lena in.

Almost has her confessing her feelings to Kara and begging for them to start over; but she resists.

“Lena-“ Kara starts after a long moment of silence, but Lena cuts her off.

“No. You got your chance to speak, now it’s my turn. You can either listen or you can go back home.”

Kara studies her for a moment before nodding, gaze slinking back to her red boots that are swinging over the edge.

“You said you loved me.” She states, and Kara nods slowly.

“You wanna know what’s really fucked up about the whole thing?” she continues, but Kara stays silent. “I love you too.”

Kara straightens, her cape fluttering in the wind.

“Or, I loved the person I thought you were.”

Even from profile, she can see the way Kara’s brow crinkles.

“I’ve never had someone stick up for me the way you do. You were my absolute best friend, and I always wondered what would happen if I told you how I really felt.”

Kara’s head whips around, and even in the darkness, Lena can feel eyes on her face.

Swallowing down her fear, she turns to face Kara head on.

“Did you know how much I loved you? Did you know that every time I looked at you I saw the possibility of forever? That I saw the one person who trusted me explicitly?”

Kara’s eyes fill with tears and Lena almost caves. Instead, she rises to her feet. Kara quickly follows, and they stand face to face at the edge of the L-Corp roof.

"I loved Kara Danvers so much. But you? I don’t even know you.”

“Lena. . . “

“I loved you!” Lena shouts. “I would have died for you! But you wouldn’t even tell me who you really are! How am I supposed to trust you?! How am I supposed to build a future with someone who doesn’t even trust me?!”

“I hate -“ She chokes off, unable to finish her thought. “I hate your stupid hair and your stupid suit. I wish Supergirl had never been created.” Kara’s face falls even further, and Lena’s anger only grows.

“Lena, please don’t - “ Kara’s hands reach out for her, squeezing the air between them. “Just let me explain.”

“You had your chance to explain. These are the consequences.” She reaches into her pocket, pulling out the lead lined pouch. Kara’s eyes flick to the pouch, and she can see the other woman fight the urge to shift away.

Carefully, she reaches in and pulls out two necklaces, one laid with sapphire, and the other with ruby.

“Remember that movie night? When you said you always wanted friendship necklaces but you never had a best friend?  I made us these, because you were my best friend. I was going to give them to you a few weeks ago, but then Lex told me the truth. I don’t have any use for them anymore.” She thrusts the necklaces in Kara’s direction, and the superhero looks at them for a long moment before taking them, the white gold chains dangling delicately between her fingers.

Her heart jumps at the broken look that creases Kara’s face. She shouldn’t feel excited at her friend’s broken heart, but she can’t help the satisfaction that soothes her own heartbreak.

This is exactly what she wanted.

Supergirl broken in front of her.

Feeling all of the hurt that she had inflicted on Lena.

“Which one is mine?” Kara hiccups.

“The blue one, because it matches your eyes.” Lens says softly, fighting against the emotion that threatens to break her voice.

Kara’s fingers clench around the necklaces and she starts to speak, but Lena stops her with a hand on her arm.

“I loved you so much.” She whispers. “But I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me.”

“Lena -“ Kara starts but Lena ignores her, stepping in to place a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“Goodbye, Kara Danvers. I’ll never forget you.” Her fingers linger against the strong bicep, but after one last squeeze, she turns away; ears deaf to Kara’s pleas as she walks back to the elevator.

When she gets back to her office, she sweeps an arm across the chessboard, sending all the pieces flying.

* - - - - - - - - -

If CatCo news helicopters were out that night, they would see a strange sight, Supergirl collapsed on the roof of L-Corp, sobs shaking her body; sapphire and ruby glinting between her fingers.

[frangipanidownunder]

Returning the Past: part 4

Mulder and Scully are honeymooning in Far North Queensland. Much to Scully’s chagrin, Mulder has delved headlong into a mysterious case of strange lights, Tasmanian tiger sightings and abductions. It’s not long, before they run into trouble…

Read part 1, part 2 and part 3 

Of all the bizarre things they had seen over the years – or that she had just missed seeing, she rated this one right up there. And it wasn’t even a mutant or an alien. At least she didn’t think so. The Tasmanian Tiger had been hunted out of existence in the mid 1930s. The last remaining animal, Benjamin, was left to die in the Beaumaris Zoo in Hobart, Tasmania after authorities decided that a female, albeit the zookeeper’s daughter, had no business looking after the beast. Blind sexism and outrageous shortsightedness had led to its demise. Yet now, they were face to face with a very living and very breathing specimen. It shouldn’t be here. Especially not north of Cairns, 2000 miles away from its island habitat. The creature held its ground, exhibiting both feline grace and canine ferocity.

              “It’s frightened,” Mulder whispered.

              “So am I,” she said. “We don’t have weapons. We don’t have a plan. We don’t have any fucking clue what we’re doing here.”

              He tensed and the pressure of his hand increased on her fingers. “Maintain eye contact. It might slink away.”

              She went to laugh but the noise caught in her throat as the thylacine raked its tongue over its teeth, uttered a high-pitched keening sound and turned around. It padded out of the room into the darkness of the passageway between leaving just the smell of fear behind.

 The road to the forest was windier than Scully remembered and she was already tight in the shoulders from the encounter. The constant twisting and turning made the ride doubly uncomfortable. Mulder hadn’t said a word. The radio dropped in an out and she expected him to quip about interference and lost time but he pulled into the parking area silently. Steph’s car was still there. Mulder managed to open the boot and climbed through, opening the passenger door. A search revealed nothing out of the ordinary.

              “We know she keeps too much loose change, goes through breath mints and has an unhealthy obsession with The Veronicas,” she said, leaning against the door and puffing her fringe out of her face.

              Mulder walked round to her and shoved a paper in her hand. “And we know she exists. Look at that, Scully. It’s a car registration form with her name and address on it.”

              “It’s three years old and there’s no photo ID. And the only resident at Karinya Drive, Diamond Hills was a thylacine.”

              “But it means Officer Galea was lying,” Mulder said, heading into the forest.

              Her back groaned as she struggled to keep up. “Where are you going?”

              “Steph’s out here somewhere, Scully. We’ve got to find her.”

              “She could be anywhere. This park is 460 square miles. It’s insane to go back in so unprepared. Those men meant business.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Please, Mulder. Let’s just think about this.”

              He shrugged her off. “Did you think about it when you went looking for me? I know I didn’t when you were taken. I couldn’t think it through. I just had to go with it.”

              Thunder ripped through the sky, causing her to gasp with the sheer sound of it. “If that isn’t a warning, Mulder, I don’t know what is. Let’s come back tomorrow. Prepared.”

The villa offered white coolness. Even in the dusk it seemed bright inside. She made a plate of crackers and cheese and found the relish Mulder seemed to like so much. She poured them each a glass of white wine and slipped off her shoes, sinking into the couch. Mulder sat too, chewing on his lip.

              “I did search for you, Mulder. I followed every lead, I walked into the desert and yelled at the sky. I used my fear to drive me at first, but then I used my head and the resources available. But this isn’t about you or me. This is a woman you don’t know anything about. She might even be a part of whatever this Tasmanian tiger thing is. Mulder, this isn’t an X-File, it’s our honeymoon. Please don’t forget that.”

              He turned to her and leant his forehead against hers. The sharp tang of pinot grigio on his breath. He echoed a kiss against her lips and sighed away, head against the back of the chair. “I heard you.”

              “What do you mean?” She sipped her wine and watched pain cross his face.

              “When you yelled into the desert sky. I heard you.”

              “You never told me,” she said, reaching out to stroke his arm. “You never told me much of anything back then.”

              He chuffed out a bitter laugh. “I thought I could forget. I wanted to forget. But…”

              “You remember it every day. Oh, Mulder. I wish you would have talked more.”

              He did laugh then. “Do you have any idea what that sounds like coming from you?”

              The sun was low on the horizon, spreading fire over the ocean. It rippled and waved, hypnotising her. She swallowed the rest of her wine, letting Mulder gently knead her gristly neck. He lowered himself to pepper kisses around the sides of her neck, lifting back her hair and nuzzling until her nipples peaked.

              “That feels so good, Mulder.”

              “Mmm, tastes good too,” he said, moving closer so he was pressed against her. One hand snaked around her waist and pushed up through her top, seeking her breast. He continued to kiss her neck, holding her hair away. He stopped. “Scully?”

              “Mmm?”

              “Your neck.”

              “What?” she pulled away, turning, running a hand to where he was looking.

              “It’s bright red, raised. Your scar. Where the chip is.”

 The itch was incessant. Like a seed had started to sprout under her skin. Mulder paced, he was worried she was going to be summoned.

              “It doesn’t feel like that, Mulder. I don’t feel any compelling call. It’s not resonating within me like it did before. It’s just really itchy. I think it might just be heat rash. My hair was stuck to my head, it’s so humid. And seeing that animal in the house heightened my adrenaline levels which in turn caused my body to break out in a cold sweat. My skin has been working overtime.” She kissed his pouty lips and he sank back into the couch, pulling her with him. “I’m fine, Mulder. I’m not going anywhere.”

              A slow smile spread across his face. “Maybe a cold shower would help?”

              She eyed his lap and chuckled. “Help me or you?”

 The sound of tapping computer keys woke her and she watched Mulder hunched over his laptop for a while. The grey dawn outside made him even richer in depth and colour, even more angled. She pushed herself up and he turned to her.

              “Morning, Scully.”

              “Did you sleep at all, Mulder?”

              “Not after you did that thing with your tongue,” he grinned.

              She threw a bundle of clothes at him and padded to the kitchen. “I presume you’re feeling better, Mulder?”

              “A bit of a lingering head ache, I think the swelling of my bruise has gone down, and you sure know how to heal a man, Scully.” He typed a little more then closed the cover. “Did you know that a woman in Townsville, here in Far North Queensland, was being treated for chronic low back pain, was told that she would end up in a wheelchair, on morphine for the rest of her life. She had a levitating experience and the pain disappeared. She could walk again. When she underwent hypnosis she described pale blue lights and flashing bright white lights, a flash. She was on a craft. She gave detailed descriptions of what it looked like, of the beings that helped her. She used words in a language that nobody could translate. There are cases like this all over Australia. Tasmania, Victoria, the Northern Territory. The same thing. There seems to be some kind of hotspot here, Scully.”

              “Mulder, none of that helps explain what happened to Steph Callow or how that thylacine ended up in her house. Steph didn’t suddenly recover from an incurable condition. She didn’t describe a craft or beings.” She sipped her coffee. “I still think we should have alerted the authorities about the tiger.”

              “The authorities deny the existence of a woman we both met. A woman whose car is still parked in the forest where she disappeared. A woman who claims to have been abducted multiple times. Does any of this sound at all familiar to you?”

              “So, what’s the plan now? Back into the rain forest? Searching for a woman whose existence can’t be verified. Trying to film a secretive enclave of extinct creatures?”

              “Sounds like an X-File, Scully. Which means you should be searching for the science, the evidence to prove the possibles in this forest of impossibles.”

              She walked out to the balcony, rubbed the back of her neck. The heat at the chip site was palpable. She too had woken with a lingering pain in her temples but this had hardly been the honeymoon of her dreams and science would suggest that stress could cause all manner of physical ailments. Besides, she had a lingering feeling that there was something more sinister to this case than a missing person and the re-emergence of a long-dead creature. And in her experience, sinister usually meant human involvement.

              He joined her and they took a moment to enjoy the view. “I did do some research, while you were recovering from that thing I did with my tongue,” she said, leaning into his welcoming shoulder. “I found a research project to resurrect the thylacine using captured DNA from Benjamin, the last specimen in captivity. It was a legitimate project, funded by the Australian federal government, that closed down due to lack of progress. And the lead scientist is now based in a small settlement just south of here. That could be a place to start.”

              “Coincidence much, Scully?”

              “Or a fortunate turn of events, Mulder?”