Believe

Layman County, Maryland

December 27, 1999

11:42 P.M.

"Washington DC 92" read the sign as a blue Chevy Caprice rolled quietly by. Except for the license plate that marked it as belonging to the United States government the car was unremarkable. The man behind the wheel, however, was most noteworthy.

"Another two hours or so," muttered Fox Mulder to no one in particular. Mulder gave out a long yawn and mentally sighed at the long drive he had ahead of him. "I swear, this is the last time I go running off to the middle of nowhere to investigate missing film students. Especially when said 'missing' students turn out to be down in Miami partying on what should be their college book money. God, if Scully finds out about this I'll never hear the end of it. This was almost as stupid that fiasco in Springfield with that Homer Simpson dope. "

Mulder stopped his grousing and returned his attention to counting the trees along the roadside to try and stay awake. Mulder's wakefulness shot up dramatically as the car's engine began to sputter.

"Ah, dammit, not now!" growled the FBI agent as he felt the power under the hood die. Amid a string of very colorful curses Mulder guided the Chevy into the breakdown lane with the last of the car's momentum.

His verbal tirade was subsiding as the dark haired man grabbed a flashlight from the glove compartment, climbed out the door and popped the hood. Mulder didn't consider himself a very mechanically inclined person, but he did know a few things about engines and hoped that knowledge would be enough to get him moving again.

After a brief inspection of the car's workings Mulder concluded that whatever was wrong was beyond his understanding of automotives to fix. With a sigh of defeat the X-Files agent reached into his coat and pulled out his cellphone. "I'm glad Uncle Sam will be the one picking up the towing fee and not me," he mused as he moved his finger to dial.

The cellphone rang. Mulder gave a little jump and looked at the phone as if it had suddenly sprouted wings. Pulling himself together the agent hit the receive button.

"Having a spot of car trouble, Agent Mulder?" asked a voice and the other end, calmly.

Electricity raced down the Mulder's spine. Immediately the hair on the back of his neck rose. "Who is this!?" he demanded.

"If you want to know just turn around."

Mulder whipped around and found that he was no longer along. On the other side of the road, in what seconds ago had been an empty field, were a man and a woman.

The woman was tall, at least a several inches over the six foot mark, and had dark hair. He body was muscular and well toned but not unfeminine. In fact, her figure was accented by the skin-tight, black bodysuit she wore. Making the woman more unusual were the red lines on the suit that started at the kneecaps, ran up her torso to her neck and then spread down her arms in a vaguely vein-like fashion.

Next to her stood a older man who seemed to be in his mid fifties. Everything about the man was white. From the stock of hair on his head to his suit to his shoes, everything about the man was a ghostly white.

Except, Mulder noticed, for the small black cellphone he was sliding into the pocket of his coat.

"I take it you folks aren't with AAA," joked Mulder as he moved himself into a stance that seemed casual, but would allow him to go for his gun in a instance if need be.

"No, we're not," answered the woman as she tried to give a reassuring smile. "We mean you no harm so there'll be no need for that gun."

Mulder wasn't comforted by that but made no move toward his weapon. "Who are you people what do you want with me?"

"My name is Elijah Snow and my colleague is Jakita Wagner," informed the man in white. "We're with Planetary. We'd like to have a word with you, Agent Mulder."

"Planetary?! Well, now this is a surprise."

"I see you know of us," said Wagner approvingly. "Not many people do. It seems you reputation for uncovering secrets is well deserved."

"I'm so glad I met your high standards," retorted Mulder. He really hated shadowy types like Snow and Wagner. "But I'll admit that finding out about you wasn't easy. You people have security that even the NSA would envy."

"And what do you know about us, Agent Mulder?" asked Snow. "Or, more accurately, what do you think you know about us?"

Mulder didn't like Snow's tone but decided to ignore it. "Supposedly, you're some sort of private firm dedicated to historical research. You've got offices all over the world and seem to have more money then some small South American nations."

"Actually, we have more money then some large South American nations," interrupted Wagner with a smirk. "Who do you think bailed Argentina out of that last recession?"

Snow gave Wagner a exasperated look. The woman rolled her eyes but said nothing. "Please continue," bade Snow.

"There's not much else to say," admitted Mulder. "I haven't been able to find out the names of anyone who works for your organization or even where your headquarters is. The only thing I know for sure is that Planetary's name has turned up in connection to some very odd things."

"What sort of things?" quizzed Wagner.

"X-Files sort of things," answered Mulder. "Now that I've answered your questions how about you answer some of mine. For instance, what's Planetary all about and what do you want with me?"

"Fair enough, Agent Mulder," nodded Snow. "Planetary is a group of archeologists. Mystery archeologists, to be precise. Our organization is dedicated to uncovering the secret history of the twentieth century."

"Ours has been a most unusual century," picked up Wagner. "A century of science and magic. A century of wonder and horror. A century of the strange and the fantastic."

"There are forces in this world that actively work to keep knowledge of these wonders from coming to light," said Snow icily. "It's our job to uncover such things so that knowledge of them won't be lost."

"It's a strange world, Agent Mulder. Planetary wants to keep it that way," finished Wagner.

"So what kind of secrets are these people trying to hide from the public?" asked Mulder. He hoped the skepticism in his voice was hiding the curiosity he felt rising inside him.

"Let's not play games, Agent Mulder," snorted Wagner. "What really happened at Roswell is only the tip of the iceberg of things the ordinary people don't know the real story about. But you know that already. You know about the mutants, magic, monsters, spirits, lunatics and bits of science gone mad that fills our world. You know the horrors that lurk in the darkness but you continue to search for the truth."

"Nice speech," grumbled Mulder. "But would you mind telling me just what the hell it is you want with me?"

"You mean you haven't guessed by now?" queried Snow in an amused voice. "We'd like you to join Planetary. We've had our eye on you for a very long time, Fox. We think that a person with your unique training and experiences would be invaluable to our organization."

"I appreciate the offer, but thanks but no thanks," said Mulder, clearly annoyed by Snow's use of his first name. "I'm not going to drop my life's work on the X-Files to sign up with a group that, from what I know of them, seem just as secretive and manipulative as the people they claim to be against."

"Don't dismiss us out of hand so quickly, Agent Mulder," warned Wagner. "The things you've found out while confined by working for the FBI are nothing sort of amazing. We were extremely impressed by your recent findings in Antarctica. We'd had our people looking for that ship for years. Congratulations on beating us to the punch."

"You know about the ship that was down there?!" gaped Mulder.

"We know about that and a great many other things," confirmed Snow. "You've done great things these last few years. But think of what you could do with the resources of our organization at your disposal. With Planetary the bureaucracy and lack of faith in your ideas would be a thing of the past, Agent Mulder. With you on our side there would be no mystery we couldn't crack. No truth that could not found."

"Why me?" inquired Mulder simply.

"Because you want to believe," answered Wagner. "So do we."

"So what do you say, son?" demanded Snow. "Are you ready to leave that basement hole you've been in for the last few years and join us in uncovering the greatest mysteries of our century?"

The FBI agent was silent for a long moment as he contemplated the offer. "No thanks."

The two members of Planetary blinked, clearly taken aback by Mulder's quick refusal.

"Might I asked why?" inquired Wagner after a moment.

"You claim to be historians," began Mulder. "You say that you want to make sure that the people of the world know about all the great secrets and mysteries of the twentieth century. Well, you've talked the talk but I don't see you walking the walk."

"I'm not clear on what you saying," said Snow who was looking a bit flustered.

"So where are these wonders you claim to know all about!?" demanded Mulder as he raised his arms expectantly. "Why haven't I seen you blowing the lid off the conspiracies you claim to be against on CNN? Why doesn't the man on the street know all the things you claim to know? The truth is only of any value if people know about it. If you know so much why aren't you sharing it with the rest of us?"

Snow was now slightly disconcerted. "Perhaps Jakita should answer your questions," he deferred. "She's been with the organization far longer than I have."

Wagner cast an unreadable look at Snow before returning her attention to Mulder. "You raise some very good points, Agent Mulder," she conceded. "I admit, I find myself asking those very questions a lot.

"We live in a strange world. You and I know that. But the average guy in a suburb with a wife, two kids and a mortgage doesn't. He thinks that he understands the world and how it works. He is also afraid of anything that will shake his nice, clean and orderly view of life.

"The things we know are very far from nice, clean and orderly. To give the world all we know at once would be disastrous. Can you imagine what it would be like to suddenly know that there are alternate Earths? To know that there are people with no names or faces who wield the real power in this world? How would people react if they knew we aren't alone in the universe? How would they deal with the fact that there really are monsters hiding under the bed?"

"You're no better than the people I've spent years working against while investigating the X-Files," snorted Mulder.

That remark earned him a hard glare from both Planetary agents. "We're many things, Agent Mulder, but we're most certainly not those bastards in the Consortium," retorted Snow. "Planetary is opposed to everything your black-lunged friend and his late cohorts stood for."

"That man is no friend of mine!" spat Mulder. "But you still haven't completely answered my question. If you know all that you claim to know, why are you keeping it a secret?"

"We keep what we know under wraps because now is not the time," answered Wagner solemnly. "The world has to be prepared to know what we what know. People have to learn that this is a strange world in which they live slowly. Otherwise, they might lash out in irrational fear when told the truth. I don't think I need to tell you how dangerous irrational fear is, do I, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder was again silent as he contemplated what he'd just heard. "No, you don't," he nodded after a moment. "But hiding the truth is the same as lying. People have a right to the truth. Only when they have the truth can they decided if they want to believe."

"It seems we've come to a philosophical crossroads," assessed Snow.

"So it would seem," agreed the agent.

It was then that Mulder felt a weight pressing down on his left shoulder. He snapped his head around to find Wagner's right elbow on his shoulder and her leaning against him casually. "I'm sorry you've decided not to join us, Agent Mulder," said Wagner sincerely as she pressed a card into his hand.

Still disorientated by the way the tall woman had appeared at his side Mulder instinctively glanced at the card. On it was a picture of the Earth and the word "Planetary" written above it and a phone number below it."

"That's a number you use to contact us if you ever change your mind," informed Wagner who was suddenly at Snow's side again. "Don't bother to try and trace it. I promise you won't get far."

"I'm also sorry you declined out offer," said Snow. "I only joined Planetary a few months ago myself, but I can tell you it's been one hell of a ride. You're really missing out, Fox."

"I'm sure I'll endure," murmured Mulder as he slipped the card into his pocket. How in the world had Wagner gotten beside him and then back to Snow so fast? It just wasn't possible for humans to move that fast.

Normal humans, Mulder mentally amended. And these two strike me as anything but normal.

"It seems our business here is done," concluded Snow.

"Not quite," proclaimed Wagner as she turned from her colleague to Mulder. "Agent Mulder, may we ask a favor of you?"

Mulder felt his suspicion rising again but tried to hide it. "Maybe. What favor?"

"Tell your friends the Lone Gunmen that the Drummer says 'Thanks for last time.' They'll know what it means."

"Done now?" muttered Snow. Wagner again rolled her eyes but nodded. "Good. Let's get out of this damn field."

No sooner had Snow spoken then a bright light filled the air, momentarily blinding Mulder. When his vision cleared a second later the FBI agent saw a small black helicopter landing silently in the field a few yards behind Snow and Wagner.

Black. Why are the helicopters always black? Don't they make white paint anymore? mused Mulder as the pair walked toward the chopper's open door.

When he was a few feet from the craft Snow stopped and turned to again look at Mulder. "Before I go, would you like a piece of advice from a very, very old man, Fox?" he called.

Still trying to shield his eyes from the glare of the helicopter's spotlights Mulder managed a nod.

"Keep doing what you're doing," advised the white-haired man. "Your work on the X-Files is more important than you'll ever know. Never stop believing. I assure you, Fox, the truth is out there." With that, Snow gave the younger man a final nod and climbed inside.

The chopper then began to take off and Mulder was forced to take a few steps back to avoid the dirt that was kicked up. Once the craft was in the air Mulder trotted into the field and watched as it disappeared into the night sky.

"They could have at least offered me a lift to DC," grumbled Mulder to the empty field. With a sigh he turned and headed back to his car. The agent managed three steps before he slipped on something and landed roughly on his rear.

After a quick streak of obscenities that would make a sailor blush, Mulder got to his feet and turned on his flashlight to try and discover what he'd slipped on.

Much to his surprise it was a trail of ice. A trial of ice in the shape of shoe prints. A quick inspection showed Mulder that the trail started by the road where the two Planetary agents had stood during their conversation.

"I wonder what shoe size Mr. Elijah Snow wears," pondered Mulder.

Still feeling the pain in his rear the agent shook his head and returned to his car. Mulder was about to try calling for another tow when he spotted a note stuck under his windshield wiper. "Don't tell me I got a ticket on top of all this," grumbled Mulder pulled the note out quickly and read it.

Dear Agent Mulder,

If you'll look closely by your carborator you'll notice a loose green wire. Reattach it and your car will be in working order again.

See you around,

J.W.

"Now how in the hell?!" sputtered Mulder. After a few seconds of shock he pushed his questions aside and popped the hood. Five minutes later Mulder was headed down the road, a long drive ahead of him and a millions questions on his mind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

FBI Headquarters

December 28, 1999

9:07 a.m.

Agent Dana Scully indulged herself in a long yawn as she headed down the corridor to her partner's office. She'd been up unusually late last night and was paying the price for it now. She hoped Mulder had some coffee handy. A strong caffeine fix was just what she needed right now.

"Morning, Mulder," called Scully as she stepped into the cluttered office that was the home of the X-Files. To Scully's complete lack of surprise Mulder sat behind his desk absorbed with something on his computer screen. To her annoyance there was no coffee in site.

"Morning, Scully," responded Mulder without even looking at her.

"You're not using that thing to chat up underage foreign schoolgirls again, are you?" asked Scully as she found a chair, cleared a pile of papers from it and sat down.

That remark caught Mulder's attention. "Sounds like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed his morning," he grinned as he turning around.

"Sorry," apologized Scully as she took a moment to massage her temples. "I didn't get much sleep last night and I'm a bit cranky."

"Insomnia?" quizzed Mulder.

"No, I was out last night running some errands and the subway car I was on broke down. We didn't get moving again for three hours and I had to spend most of that time trying to convince the man next to me that under no circumstances did I want to see his appendix scars.

"Plus, when I got home I had the strangest feeling someone had been in my house. I spent almost an hour going over everything but couldn't find anything out of place. I think this job is making me paranoid."

"You say paranoid like it's a bad thing," joked Mulder. "But you're not the only one who felt that way. I got the same feeling when I got home last night and when I arrived here this morning. Like you, I checked everything but came up empty."

"Déjà vu all over again."

"I might actually have been inclined to believe that if that was the only strange thing that happened to me last night." Quickly, Mulder recounted his encounter with the Planetary agents, stopping only for the occasional mouthful of sunflower seeds or swig from a can of Whak Soda.

"So do you think their offer was legitimate?" quizzed Scully once her partner was finished.

"Yes," nodded Mulder. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit tempted. Planetary seems to have its hands in a lot of very mysterious pies."

"Such as?"

"That's what I was going over when you came in," informed Mulder as he moved his computer screen into a position that Scully could see. "I've got files here on strange phenomenon from all over the world. From what I can tell, Planetary has also poked around in more than a few of them. For instance, here's the case of a still unexplained aurora borealis effect that appeared in the skies over London in July of 1953."

"Weird lights in the sky? Again?" sighed Scully. "Mulder, you know as well as I do that there are a million explanations for things like that."

"Planetary aren't the types who investigate swamp gas, Scully," chided Mulder as he looked back at the screen. "But that isn't all. Here's a file about a horde of green reptile-like 'demons' that were seen under the streets of Paris in 1939. Here's one about secret 'science city' supposedly built in the California desert in the late fifties. According to my source, the US government performed all sorts of bizarre medical experiments on innocent American civilians there. This one is about a string of vigilante murders in Hong Kong supposedly committed by the ghost of a dead cop.

"Hold onto your hat for this one," warned Mulder as he continued to read. "According to one of my contacts in the Far East, Planetary investigated a small island in some area disputed by Russia and Japan. According to local legends, the island, called 'Island Zero' if you can believe it, is home to a bunch of giant monsters."

"Giant monsters?" snorted Scully. "You don't really believe that, do you?'

Mulder took another sip from the can of Whak before giving his partner a mischievous grin. "Scully, there are some things in this world even I won't believe. Even I know there's no such thing as giant 'radioactive mutants.' Outside of cheesy late-night movies, that is."

"I hate to say this, Mulder, but these Planetary people seem like kooks to me," Scully said. "Well financed kooks, but kooks none the same if those are the kinds of things they investigate.

"If that was all I had on them I'd be inclined to agree with you," conceded Mulder. "Do you remember the bombing of the Hark Building in Seattle a few months back?"

"Of course. Some previously unknown terrorist group who called themselves, of all things, the Snowflake, bombed the building. It was an absolute miracle that the building was totally empty when the bomb went off."

"Was it really such a miracle?" probed Mulder as he arced an eyebrow. "A large office building owned by one of the biggest software makers in America is totally empty on the day a bomb just happens to go off. Don't you find that odd? Shouldn't there have been someone in that building? Cleaners, security guards or obsessive programmers? Someone?"

"Yes, it did strike me as a bit odd…" admitted Scully.

"That's not all," interrupted Mulder. "According to the official report there was no damage to the surrounding area. Not even a broken pane of glass on the building next door. Now tell me how that's possible."

Scully thought about it for a moment but then conceded defeat. "It shouldn't be possible. For something like that to happen the building would have had to have been…well, vaporized.

"Exactly!" exclaimed Mulder. "Didn't you find it odd that the NSA took over the investigation before the Bureau even had a chance to get agents on site?"

"The Hark Corporation does have a lot of friends in Wash--" Scully stopped in mid-sentence and let looked at her partner. "Let me guess, Planetary was somehow involved in the investigation."

Mulder smiled.

"I've saved the best for last," Mulder grinned as he pulled a file from one of his draws and tossed it to his partner. "That was sent to me by the Lone Gunmen last month. According to them, it's direct from the files of Planetary."

The redhead gave a mental sigh. While the Gunmen had proven helpful in the past their personal eccentricities tended to get on her nerves. After giving Mulder a dubious look Scully began to read.

"A secret US space program called Artemis?" said Scully as she looked though the file. "A program that put men on the moon in 1961? This is out there even for the Lone Gunmen. If Planetary is as secretive as you say, how did they get a contact on the inside?"

"You got me," shrugged Mulder. "When I asked them about it they just clamed up. Possibly that Drummer person Jakita Wagner mentioned last night, but it's impossible to know for sure."

"Well, as interesting as all this is, I'm still inclined to think these Planetary people are nothing more than kooks," said Scully as put the file back on Mulder's desk.

"I'm not so sure," disagreed Mulder. "Langly, Byers, and Frohike may be…unconventional, but they're very good at figuring out who's a nut and who's really onto something. If they say this information from Planetary is legit, I'm inclined to believe them.

The blaring of the PA cut off Scully's response. "Will agents Scully and Mulder please report to assistant Director Skinner's office."

"What did we do this time?" sighed Mulder.

"Come on, Mulder, you know how Skinner hates to be kept waiting," warned Scully as she stood and headed for the door.

As he to got up Mulder's mind flashed back to the card he still had in pocket. I wonder if it's to late to join Planetary after all," he thought wistfully. "Anything beats another reaming out from Skinner…

~*~*~*~*~*~

Not far from FBI headquarters, in a suite in one of Washington's most posh hotels, two members of Planetary were waiting. Snow sat on a couch idly channel surfing and occasionally muttering something about "rotting people's god damn minds". Nearby, Jakita sat in an armchair typing something on her laptop.

The room's main door suddenly burst open and a longhaired man in his twenties stumbled in. His clothes, a purple jacket, lime green shirt, blue jeans and ratty sneakers were rumpled, dirty and looked as if they had been slept in. Which, of course, they had been.

"Have no fear, the Drummer is here!" shouted the newcomer.

"How kind of you to grace us with your presence, you majesty," muttered Snow as he climbed from his chair

"Where the hell have you been, primate?" snapped Jakita. "No, let me guess. Out drinking with your friends the Lone Gunmen."

"Cut me a break," pleaded Drummer. "I haven't seen those guys in over a year."

"I hope you and your rejects from a Star Trek convention friends had a good time at some of DC's finer strip clubs last night," teased Snow.

"The Gunmen may wet themselves whenever they're within ten feet of a woman, but don't sell them short, Elijah," warned Jakita. "We've had a good information sharing relationship with them for the past two years."

"Whatever," grunted Snow. "But if the monkey here went off, got drunk and forgot the mission I'll freeze off his extremities one by one."

"Ah, don't crap yourself, grandpa," muttered Drummer as he pulled eight computer disks from his pockets. "Merry belated Christmas. These puppies contain everything you ever wanted to know about the X-Files."

"You didn't have any trouble getting this out of FBI Headquarters?" asked Wagner.

"Nope," assured the Drummer. "It was even easier to break in there last night than it was last time. Scully and Mulder's homes were easier still."

"Well, well, the human used condom actually did something right for a change," mused Snow. Drummer glared at the older man.

"Just tell me you didn't take time out of the mission to go rifling though Scully's underwear drawer," sighed Jakita. "I hope you remember the trouble the we got into the last time you did something like that."

"I still don't see why we were trying to recruit this Mulder, dork," grumbled the Drummer, ignoring Jakita's comment. "Planetary's field team has always been three people. What good would someone with a nickname like "Spooky" be to us? He doesn't even have any powers for God's sake."

"His power, you turd, is his mind," informed Jakita sharply. "He's one of the best profilers the FBI has ever produced. He's not exactly lacking in the investigative skills area either. Someone like that would be very valuable to us in stopping bastards like the Four and their agenda. Besides, no one ever said he was going to join the field team. There are other parts of the organization where he'd be much more productive."

Drummer raised his hands in defeat and backed away from Wagner. "Fine, fine. I'm sorry I ever said a disparaging word about the high and holy Mulder."

"Now that our business with the X-Files in concluded what's next?" asked Snow.

"A little day trip to a mental health clinic in Virginia," said Jakita. "There's a man there named Frank Black that I want to talk to."

Over by the fridge Drummer almost choked on the can of Whak he'd just opened. "Frank Black?! You mean we're going after the Millennium Group? Heavy."

"Heavy indeed," agreed Wagner.

"The Millennium Group?" repeated Snow. "I thought they were some sort of consulting firm made up of former law enforcement officials."

"That's what they want you to think," grinned Drummer. "Our sources say they're some sort of doomsday cult. Rumor has it they may stretch back all the way to the time of Christ. And that the had something to do with that virus outbreak Washington state a few years ago."

"And with the Millennium so close…" mused Snow.

"Exactly," confirmed Wagner. She then turned and headed for the door. "Come on, kids. There are mysteries waiting for us."

"The truth is out there," snickered the Drummer as he followed.

Snow rolled his eyes.

The End

Author's Notes: Well there you have it. At the same time this is my first X-Files and my first Planetary story. I really don't have any great reflections on this story that will give you new insight into what you just read. It's just that Planetary and the X-Files are sort of about the same thing so a crossover sounded like something that would work.

Yes, Planetary exists in the Wildstorm universe where superteams like Gen13, the Authority, the Wildcats and DV8 exist, and superheroes don't really mix with the X-Files. All I can say is that Planetary has always keep itself pretty much apart from the WSU. Anyway, I figured telling a good story was more important then worrying about details like that. I hope you will agree.