Title: Too Far for an X-file
Author: Theresa J
Summary: Crossover between Farscape and the X-files.
Mulder meets John Crichton in a secret military
Author’s notes: This was written for the VS11 Cross
Over Special. Two weeks exclusivity on the VS11 site.
After that, archive anywhere. I always wanted to have
these two meet! Just some fun for me.
Time Period: This takes place before “Terra Firma”,
Season 4 of Farscape. For the X-files, time period
fits with the VS11 timeline.
Spoilers: For the VS11 MS relationship status. For
Farscape, almost everything up to “Terra Firma”.
Disclaimer: The X-files, Mulder and Scully belong to
Chris Carter and Tenthirteen Productions. Farscape,
John Crichton, Moya, Aeryn Sun and other characters
belong to Henson Studios and the SciFi Network. I’m
just borrowing these guys for a while, I don’t own
them, and no copyright infringement is intended.
One line belongs to “Foxy Lady” by Jimi Hendrix.
Feedback: Please and thank you!
Secret Military Prison
A square room. Funny how something so common looked so
strange to him now. John Crichton sat in an
uncomfortable metal chair, trying to find a good
position in which to settle himself. He’d gotten used
to the amorphous curved lines of Moya, the living
alien ship he’d been aboard for the last several years
of his life. Sometimes he’d imagined that the chairs
and beds he slept in while living on her would adjust
themselves to his body, molding themselves to him as
if Moya were able to communicate by touch as he sat or
Sleep. He remembered sleep. His red-rimmed eyes stung
as he looked up at the harsh overhead light above him.
He could see deep shadows hug the underside of his
cheekbones and the hollows of his eyes in the
reflection of the two-way mirror. He never thought jet
lag would insinuate itself so strongly after
travelling through a wormhole in outer space. It
didn’t help that he hadn’t slept since he’d been back
on Earth, either.
The door to the small interrogation room swung open,
snapping him back to alertness. Crichton automatically
stood and reached to his side for a holster that
wasn’t there. They’d taken Wynona, his alien version
of a pistol, away from him. His hip felt light and
empty without it, and he made an awkward gesture with
his hand, scrubbing at his close-cropped hair to hide
the motions he’d taken in defense. His leather pants
squeaked as he shifted his weight, then stilled
himself to size up the man that had just entered the
He was most definitely a government employee. The
style of the dark, double-breasted suit he wore just
reeked of it. He was a few inches taller than
Crichton, with a thin, though muscular build. Not as
stocky with the muscles as Crichton himself, but
athletic at least. He had a too-clean-cut way about
him, yet the facade was spoiled slightly as he spat
the remains of a sunflower seed shell into his fingers
and dropped them into the wastebasket in the corner of
Crichton remained standing as the other sat on the
opposite side of the table. ‘Who the frell was this
guy?’ Crichton had thought for sure he’d be seeing
some ornery official from NASA come to beat his head
into the ground.
“John Crichton?” the suit said.
“Yeah. And you must be Joe Friday,” he replied dryly.
The suit paused, a twinkle in his eye that appreciated
the quip, but also recognized Crichton’s sarcasm as a
defense mechanism even more so than the weapon absent
from his hip.
“Sorry, wrong division. I’m Agent Fox Mulder with the
“Ooooh… Foxy! I’m comin’ to get ya!” Crichton
replied, twanging an air guitar and then smirking at
the FBI agent.
“It’s just Mulder, if you don’t mind. Sunflower seed?”
Mulder held out the red and white plastic bag he had
gotten out of the vending machine two floors up and
popped one into his mouth while he waited for the
other to consider.
Crichton sat down slowly, watching Mulder for signs of
dishonesty. Mulder held his gaze just as intently, not
even blinking as he dipped his hand gently into the
snack bag again and cracked two more seeds open with
“All right, Mulder. Why aren’t you NASA?”
Crichton decided this guy wasn’t going to do him any
harm… yet. He rifled his fingers into the offered
bag and snatched up a handful of seeds. He’d promised
himself that he wouldn’t eat too much while he was
stuck on Earth, but along with lack of sleep, lack of
food was another thing that was wearing him thin.
The outer shells tasted good — salty, nutty, earthy.
Much better than many of the alien foods for which
he’d been forced to acquire tastes. He closed his eyes
and could almost pretend that he wanted to come back
here for good. He was human after all. Did he really
want to continue playing the fish-out-of-water game on
a living ship, with a half-crazed Luxan, a two-foot
green eating-machine Dominar, a gray haired, gray
skinned teenaged thief, and a… Peacekeeper?
Crichton’s face softened at the thought of Aeryn Soon,
a Peacekeeper defector that was one of the other
passengers on Moya. That was the reason, the biggest
one anyway, that he had to go back. Thousands of
universes and a thousand chances to convince her that
it was okay to love him — he’d finally done it,
but… He promised he’d always go back to her, but
that wormhole had just come out of nowhere. He still
didn’t have full control over his abilities to predict
wormhole locations and their times of appearance.
Sometimes he got lucky. This time he had found Earth,
but this time he wasn’t looking for it.
Mulder crumpled up the half-empty bag of sunflower
seeds, and pushed them across the table to him.
Crichton was able to focus on Mulder, but it took him
a moment to remember what he’d asked the agent before
thinking about Aeryn. She had a tendency to overpower
his thoughts sometimes, especially when he thought he
might never see her again.
“I’m not NASA because I’m the one who got you out of
their stewing pot. I want to know why you’re so bent
on getting that module back. What’s your hurry in
getting back out into space? And getting out there
trying to bypass security. Did you think nobody would
notice you taking off with a trillion-dollar project
they thought was lost forever?”
“Point taken Beanpole,” Crichton said, chewing on the
last of his seeds.
Mulder bit on the inside of his bottom lip and nodded
subtly, visibly keeping a temper under wraps. “It’s
“Mulder,” Crichton grinned, “Yeah, I know. So you’re
helping me, is that it? What’s in it for you?”
Mulder had the decency to look mildly surprised at
this question. Then he said in all seriousness,
leaning over the table, “I want to know what’s out
“Oh, lordy, lordy! You do *not* want to know.”
Mulder remained hovering over the tabletop, but now
rested his elbows on top of it. He’d be in for the
long and tiresome story, if that’s what it took.
Crichton could see, though, that Mulder knew exactly
that it was not a tiresome story at all.
“All right, Beanpole.”
Mulder glared, but moved nothing.
Crichton inhaled deeply through his nose, trying to
decide the best way to spill it all. Hell, this weirdo
might actually believe him. But where to begin? Maybe
he ought to start off with the ship, or how he first
got out there, or the project with NASA, or Aeryn.
No. He knew what to ask first. “How are you going to
get me back out there, anyway? I mean, I can spill my
guts to you like slicing open a Ton-Ton with a Light
Saber and I’d still be left out in the cold.”
Mulder sat back in his chair. “I have friends that can
get us where they moved the test-module. I believe
it’s now in Area 51.”
“Wow. I guess I’m involved in a bonafied alien
“You have no idea. Point is, my friends have ways. My name
is known in those circles, too, so we’ll have to be
extremely careful. I’ll only be able to go with you so
far,” he had a hunger in his eyes as he said this,
“though I wish I could go the whole way.”
Crichton could see that Mulder was truthful in his
speech. Stupid with ideals, yes. But truthful. He
really did want to know.
“Have you seen Them? Are they the Grays?” Mulder asked
in so soft a tone, Crichton thought it might have been
a timid request. But Mulder’s face was full of awe.
“Far from it, Mulder.”
Crichton proceeded to tell the short version of how
he’d been testing out the module; how he’d gotten
sucked through a wormhole and ended up in a different
universe, in the middle of a confrontation between
Peacekeepers and a ship that had been apprehended by
escaped prisoners — all of whom were different
He told him about the translation device implanted
into his foot when Mulder asked how he communicated
with them. He told him about Kar D’Argo, Rygel,
Chiana, Zahn, Scorpius, and Aeryn.
Then he told Mulder about his return to earth the
first time. How his father had greeted him and told
him about wormholes, and that it really wasn’t his
father but an alien that looked like him. It was the
only way the alien could think of to tell Crichton
that he held in his mind, the key to wormhole
technology, and that it would be revealed to him when
he was ready to understand it.
He told him about the plague Scorpius had become to
him, and the obsession Aeryn had become to him. Saving
Earth from the clutches of Scorpius and the
Peacekeepers was one of his quests. Aeryn was the
other. Right now, Aeryn was the most important thing
in his mind, because he saw what Earth thought of him
when he had come back. He felt like Earth was lost to
him. It wasn’t his life anymore.
“My father still works in the space program. He
doesn’t understand why I cannot bring him, or any
other explorers with me when I return. And if I can’t
bring them, then I don’t go,” Crichton concluded.
Mulder sat silently for long moments, absorbing the
whole crazy story. Crichton shifted around in his
strange buckled vest and leather pants, stretched out
his back from sitting so long. Mulder watched him,
studied his eyes, bright with exhaustion and with
determination. Crichton lowered his head, tired from
the telling of his tale, and unsure if it would buy
him a chance to get back out into space.
“I believe you.”
Crichton snapped his head up. “Damn, monkey! Why
didn’t I meet you before?” He grabbed Mulder’s hand
and shook it furiously.
“I’ve been stuck in a basement office for a long
24 Hrs later
Outside of Area 51
Mulder lay back on the hood of his car, staring up at
the sky full of stars. Out in the desert, one could
see more stars than any other place on Earth. He
wondered which one of them Crichton was going back to?
He remembered his conversation with the space traveler
on their way out here, before he turned Crichton over
to direct communication with the Gunmen to get him
“So,” Mulder asked casually, “how does it work between
a human and a… Peacekeeper?”
Crichton smiled brightly, showing off his gleaming
white teeth. “Surprisingly well. Though I had to wear
her down to it.”
Mulder cleared his throat, slightly embarrassed about
asking personal questions about someone’s love life.
“Don’t sweat it, Mulder. I know what you meant.” He
adjusted his earpiece as Mulder sped the car along the
open desert road. “Peacekeepers and humans are very
much alike. She has the physiology of a woman, but
she’s just built a little differently.”
“Well, here’s a good example. I found out recently
that she was pregnant.”
“Wow. You’re a regular Captain Kirk, aren’t you?
Fraternizing with the aliens that way.”
“Nice, Mulder. But here’s the catch. It might not be
mine, or it could be mine, but I didn’t exactly do the
deed — particularly.”
“Okay, I understand the first part, but if it is
yours, how could you not have–”
“Let’s just say, I wasn’t quite myself,” Crichton
winked at him, but didn’t explain any further. Trying
to describe that he’d been split into two versions of
himself by an alien ray-gun, in which both were
completely himself at the same time, body and soul,
was a little much to go into when they were less than
a half an hour away from his ticket home.
“I — probably got her pregnant, but she chose the time
to have the baby. It doesn’t just happen for her.” Then
Crichton said under his breath, “God, I wish I had
Mulder was furiously confused and bursting at the
seams to ask him more. But instead, he asked, “She’s
worth the world to you?”
“My man, she’s worth a thousand worlds to me.”
“I know the feeling.”
He did know. If he had met Scully anywhere on this
Earth or another, he would have felt the same way for
her. Finding out that there was really something out
there was Mulder’s primary reason for diverting John
Crichton away from being trapped in a government
prison by NASA. He didn’t want Crichton to become
another legend lost to the alien conspiracy, something
that wasn’t supposed to exist.
For the brief time he got to know Crichton, Mulder
began to realize that he was one of the most human
people he knew. Against all odds, dealing with strange
worlds and beings, he adapted his own knowledge of
himself, and used it to overcome diversity in an alien
Mulder glanced at his watch. It would be any minute
A rumble in the distance made him sit up and look to
the West. He saw a glow toward the horizon that became
a thin streak of white vapor shooting straight up into
the sky. As it got higher, it faded completely from
A crackle came through his earpiece, and he heard
three voices whooping and shouting through the
“Did you see that, Mulder? He made it the sonofabitch!
Mulder added to the celebration assaulting his eardrum
with his own shout toward the sky. “Yeeeaaaahhh!”
He hopped off the car, and leaned his head back as far
as it would go, just before he could become dizzy from
his body’s imbalance. He hoped one day he’d be able to
travel as Crichton had. But would he really want to
leave what he had behind him?
“Mulder?” Frohicke’s voice came in clearly through his
earpiece. The other two had hushed for the moment.
“You’d better start getting out of there before they
start sweeping the area for witnesses.”
“All right Frohicke. Hey, thanks for this, guys.”
“No problem, Mulder. What a scene! Thanks for the
“All right. See you when I get back. I’m headin’ home
“Lone Gunmen out.”