USS Massachusetts - Battleship Cove, MA 

Ascending the grey metal stairs that led to the main galley, Will and Frohike could smell the food that Doc was preparing. It smelled so good that Will found himself picking up the pace only to be held back by Frohike who motioned him to sit down. Leaning in towards Will, Frohike whispered, not wanting Doc to overhear them. 

"Keep sharp. Let me know if you confirm what you saw earlier." 

"What if I don't see it?" 

"Either way, I'm inclined to go with your first instinct, so fill your gut so we can make tracks. Whatever you do, don't do anything that would give him reason to believe we know what he is... if he is what we suspect." 

Will agreed with a nod of his head. Clearing the last step, they turned into the galley and moved towards the service line. Doc, his back to them, turned around surprised. 

"I didn't expect to see you. I assumed I'd be taking your trays down to sick bay." 

"Can't keep a good man down," Frohike responded cheerfully, trying to act though his injury was minor. "Where's Fergie? His sniffer's usually better than mine when it comes to a free meal." 

"He loves this old tug. Wanders around it every time he comes out here. Says it's got spooks on it." 

"Ghosts?" Will piped up. 

"Of the worst kind," Doc confirmed. "Take a load off. It's just about ready,." 

Will and Frohike sat opposite one another at a table by the entrance. 

"You really think there're ghosts on this ship?" Will asked. 

"Never seen one, so I can't say," Frohike answered, his eyes scanning the room."I'd sure feel better if I knew where Fergie was." 

"Maybe he got lost. It's a big boat." 

"Ship," the Doc corrected, rounding the end of the service line with two trays in hand. 

A top each tray was a steaming plate of chicken and gravy, mashed potatoes and corn. He set them down before Will and Frohike and then headed back to the line where he grabbed another two trays. He slid into the seat at the head of the table, placing one tray at his setting and the other in the middle of the table. 

"Rolls are hotter than hell, so watch you don't burn yourselves," he said, picking one up with his bare hands in complete contradiction to the word of caution he'd just spoken. 

"It sure isn't like Ferguson to miss a meal especially one as good as this. Think I'll give him a call." 

"Won't get reception down here," Doc said as he sank his teeth into a steaming roll. Frohike looked at the screen on his cell. The man was right. No signal. "My wife gets madder than hell because she can only reach me when I'm topside. Pisses her off to no end." 

"I imagine so," Frohike said in agreement. 

Conversation slowed as they ate. 

"Guess I'm not much of a conversationalist," Doc said. "My patients always told me I lacked a cheerful bedside manner. Maybe so, but I always figured I was there to patch 'em up, not entertain 'em." 

A loud crash in the kitchen caused Will and Frohike to jump in unison. 

"Blasted cat," Doc said, throwing his fork onto his plate. "I only keep the damn thing because he's one hell of a mouser, but he sure can make a mess sometimes. Excuse me while I go skin him." 

Will swallowed hard, his appetite suddenly gone. Not because of Doc's words, but because of what he saw. Gently, he kicked Frohike under the table. It was the signal Frohike dreaded. 

***

"Why are we back in sick bay? We should be getting off the ship!" Will complained. 

"Exactly what he'll think. He'll be looking topside while we find us a good place to hide." 

"You mean we're spending the night here... with him?" 

"Look, Little Man. My arm's screaming, my heads pounding and I'm not up for another game of toss with a super-soldier. We lay low until the boat gets crowded with tourists tomorrow, and then we slip away. It will be a lot harder for him to spot us in a crowd. Now, help me out here," Frohike said, as he moved to an old ventilation shaft. "If we can pry the screen loose and get inside..." 

Will removed the bottom two screws. The top ones wouldn't budge, but there was enough play in it that the screen lifted out from the bottom. 

"You first," Frohike ordered. 

Hesitating only briefly, Will mustered up the courage and easily scrambled inside. It was much more challenging for Frohike due to his size and the broken arm, but he finally made it in and pulled the screen back in place, hoping Doc wouldn't notice the missing screws at the bottom of the vent. He motioned Will to move further back into the darkness of the shaft until they rounded a corner. Will went left, Frohike right. There they stopped, one on each side of the main shaft sitting with their backs against the old metal vent with knees drawn close to their chests. 

"It's real dark." 

In answer to Will's fear, Frohike flipped open his cell phone, checking for a signal. There wasn't any. 

"Here," he said and held out the phone. "You hold onto this for me, okay?" 

"Sure," Will said, feeling somewhat relieved that he could summon light if need be. 

"Just remember to save some of the juice... for tomorrow." 

"Do you think he knows we know?" 

"I imagine he's figured it out." 

"You think he'll find us?" 

"Do you see the size of this shaft? There's no way he's fitting in through that little hole." 

"He doesn't have to. He could punch through the wall and rip us out." 

"Provided he knows we're here, which he doesn't. You give these super-soldiers way too much credit. They don't have eyes in back of their heads. They've got those things... you know... but no eyes. Okay, so they're strong. I'll give 'em that, but they aren't all that up here," he pointed to his temple and started in on one of the rolls Will had handed him. "Look, Will. I've been on the small side all of my life and let me tell you... it's no picnic, but that's beside the point. It doesn't matter who you are. There's always someone who's bigger, stronger and better at getting the ladies than you are, but the same holds true in reverse. There'll always be someone who's smaller, weaker and dumber than you are. You can't let others psych you out just because they're bigger than you. You are what you can convince others you are." 

"You think so?" 

"Sure. Take me for example. What do you see?" 

"I can't see anything." 

"I know that but if you saw me on the street and didn't know me, what would you see?" 

"A short guy without much hair. My mom would tell me to steer clear." 

"You see. That's not me at all. When I think of me," Frohike explained, "I'm tall, lean, have a full head of hair that women love to run their fingers through. In fact, I would describe myself kind of like... Mulder. Handsome, daring, loyal... and definitely Scully's man. Get it?" 

"I can't picture you that way. You'd have to convince me." 

"I wouldn't want to convince you that I'm a stud like Mulder. I'd be trying to convince a woman." 

"Scully?" 

"Exactly... No! Not Scully, for crying out loud... she's your mother," his whisper rose. 

"I don't get this whole thing about you trying to convince women you're someone other than who you are," Will said innocently, hitting the nail on the head. "Women are weird." 

"They're certainly hard to figure out. That's why I don't try. I just work on me and maybe one day I'll get lucky." 

"Me too," Will agreed. 

"Don't rush it. There's plenty of time for them to screw with your head." 

"Weren't we talking about super-soldiers?" 

"Super-soldiers... women... what's the difference? They're both impossible to figure out," Frohike admitted. "Go on now. Get some sleep." 

"What about the super-soldier?" 

Frohike thought about it for only a moment. 

"The hell with him. Let him find his own woman." 

*** 

Will dreamed, not of Mulder and Scully, not of super-soldiers or spaceships. His dream moved him only a couple of feet to his right where Frohike was restless and in pain. Even in his dream, he closed his eyes and asked for healing for the man, calling on the power to do something. It responded. 

A pure white light filled the small space the two occupied. Frohike awoke with concern for Will. He was somewhere beyond the blinding light, but he couldn't take his hand away from his eyes to find him. His arm and shoulder throbbed and twitched. A spot on his chest burned with intensity, and the smell of scorched flesh alarmed him. 

Almost immediately, the light left him, and the simple light from the cell phone lit Will's way as he crawled over to where Frohike was just sitting up. 

"Are you alright?" Frohike asked. 

"Yeah," Will answered, the cell's display lighting up Frohike's face. "You're one of the twelve," he pointed. "You have the seal." 

Frohike quickly tried to look down at his chest where Will pointed, but he couldn't see it. 

"I do? Where? Is that what was burning? It doesn't even hurt. What's it look like?" he rambled on. 

"It looks cool," Will smiled. 

Realizing something else, Frohike removed the sling. 

"Now this is cool," he said, moving his arm as if nothing had ever happened to it. "This is... what do you kids say?" 

"Way cool," Will smiled, knowing they were a step closer to the twelve.