Disclaimers: Unless 1013 decides to bring them back someday, they 
belong to the fans now. 

Category: C

Feedback: Please, to azarsuerte@hotmail.com

Keywords: X-Files/Lone Gunmen/? crossover

Rating: PG

Spoilers: XF--through "Jump the Shark"; LGM--through "All About Yves"

Dedication: To Byers, Frohike and Langly...and to all the people, 
real or fictional, who are out there fighting the good fight. You're 
an inspiration to us all.

Summary: In a place outside of time, the Gunmen are offered a choice.


"Rest or Go On"
by Julie L. Jekel


He wasn't afraid. Maybe that, more than anything, was what affirmed 
his conviction that they'd made the right choice. No matter how often 
they'd willingly risked their lives for their cause, there had always 
been that kernel of fear. This time...from the moment Frohike looked 
at him with that unspoken question in his eyes, he'd felt nothing but 
a calm resolve. Even now, as the fire spread through him, filling 
every nerve cell with agony, there was still no fear. Only 
acceptance, and something almost like thankfulness that it would all 
be over soon. That the pain wouldn't last.

Feeling himself weaken, John Byers closed his eyes...

The pain stopped.

Blinking in surprise, he opened his eyes again, and stared in 
bewilderment at his surroundings. A quick look around revealed Langly 
and Frohike still standing beside him, looking equally puzzled.

The airtight corridor and John Gilnitz had vanished. Instead, they 
were standing just inside the door of an unfamiliar, deserted bar. 
Warm, golden brown sunlight filtered through the wide picture 
windows, seeming like early morning, midday, and dusk all at once.

"Frohike?" Byers almost croaked.

"I see it," his older friend responded, amazed. "I don't know what 
I'm seein', but I see it."

Still confused, the bearded Gunman glanced at his other friend.

Langly raised disclaiming hands. "Hey, man, don't look at me, I 
didn't do anything."

At that moment, a door closed across the room and a pleasant-faced 
middle-aged man with a brown moustache appeared behind the bar, 
wiping his hands on a dishtowel.

"What can I get for you boys?"

"J&B, straight up," Frohike responded immediately, still shaken.

"Actually...I'm not quite sure how we got...here," Byers 
amended, "but it might not be a good idea to be in the same room with 
us right now."

Right. The virus. Brought back to reality, both Frohike and Langly 
took an involuntary step back away from the bar.

The bartender smiled. "I brought you here. And don't worry--you're 
now as healthy as a team of thoroughbreds before a race."

The three men exchanged a wondering glance, then once more surveyed 
their surroundings with confusion. The bar seemed almost as if it had 
been snatched out of time, antique but from no discernable point in 
the past. But it was no cybercafe, which quite frankly was the only 
kind of restaurant the trio would have expected or wanted to find 
in...the afterlife.

"Is this...heaven?" Langly choked out.

The bartender laughed. "No, it's Cokesburg."

"Cokesburg?" Frohike asked suspiciously.

"Cokesburg, Pennsylvania. Good to meet finally you boys. I'm Fox."

The trio blinked. "You're kidding."

'Fox' shook his head, still amused. "'Fraid not."

"Poor bastard--you mean there's two people in the world with that 
moniker?" Frohike sympathized.

The bartender smiled. "What were some parents thinking, hey Melvin?"

The older man snapped. "Okay, that's it. What the *hell* is going on 
here??"

"If this was some big set-up to silence us--" Langly added, equal 
anger in his voice.

"--or to punish Yves--" Byers added.

Fox raised both hands in a gesture of innocence. "Settle down, boys. 
No one's making light of your grand sacrifice."

They still regarded him warily.

"It's not a trick. It's a second chance. Now, have a seat..." he 
nodded towards the bar. "...have a drink. You could use the rest."

"We could use an explanation," Langly snapped.

"And you'll get one," the stranger smiled. "When the time is right." 
He set Frohike's drink down on the bar and looked expectantly at the 
other two.

After another hesitant look passed between the three, as one unit 
they moved slowly forward and claimed three bar stools together at 
the counter. Frohike picked up his glass and stared at it 
suspiciously, while 'Fox' continued to look askance at Byers and 
Langly.

"I'll have a glass of water, thanks," the bearded man finally 
conceded.

Oh hell. They were already dead anyway, it wasn't as if it could kill 
them, Langly reasoned. "Heinekin. Preferably from the bottle."

The bartender busied himself filling their drink orders, and the 
three men just looked at each other again. Relax...rest...they'd 
almost lost the meaning of those words. They couldn't remember the 
last time they'd felt free to take a moment just for themselves and 
not think about the rest of the world. Even as their resources had 
dwindled and the paper--their life's work--dried up, there had always 
been the search for Yves. To find her, save her if need be, or at 
least apologize for being so quick to assume the worst about her.

"Weird," Frohike finally voiced the sentiment in his usual concise 
way.

"Yeah," Byers agreed softly.

They nursed their drinks for almost an hour, the bartender watching 
them closely but not speaking. He didn't approach again until the 
last drop of Langly's Heinekin had been tipped down the hacker's 
throat.

"So. You want to know why you're here, do you?"

"It would be appreciated," the bearded gunman agreed with his usual 
politeness.

Fox smiled. "John, do me a favor. Take a look at that calendar over 
there and tell me today's date."

Byers looked puzzled, but complied. "It's November 22, 1963...my 
birthday." He looked back at the bartender in confusion.

Frohike snorted. "Byers, buddy, hate to tell you this, but I think 
you finally need glasses like the rest of us."

The man behind the counter gave him a knowing look. "So what date do 
you see, Melvin?"

The shorter man winced at the use of his first name. "If you have to 
know, it's my birthday up there, not his."

Fox looked at Langly. "What about you, Ringo?"

"Same thing. I mean...I see my birthday."

Frohike looked at the bartender. "How'd you do that, man?"

"Well, as I've said, this isn't heaven," the man reiterated. "It is, 
however, something of a way station, so time doesn't really operate 
here the way you're used to."

"Way station...you mean we are dead?" Byers asked.

"No, John, you're not," Fox reassured him. "You might say you're in 
limbo. You three are here to make a choice."

"What kind of choice?"

"Whether you want to rest or go on."

"You mean live or die."

He nodded. "In a sense, yes, although you won't be able to return to 
your old lives."

"What is this, some sort of divine witness relocation program?" 
Langly asked.

The bartender just smiled. "Let's just say that since the beginning 
of human history, people who devoted their lives--as you have--to the 
welfare of others have been given a choice. At the point of their 
death, if they are willing to die as they lived, they're brought 
here."

"Here? To a bar in Pennsylvania?"

"For this century and the last one, yes. The place is irrelevant, and 
as I've said, time as you understand it doesn't exist here."

"You said we were here to make a choice, to rest or go on--go on 
how?" the bearded Gunman asked.

"To continue changing the world, one life at a time, only not the 
world as you knew it yesterday, and not always as the people you see 
in the mirror right now."

"I...I'm afraid I don't understand."

"You're being offered a chance to go back in time, to change history 
for the better."

All three perked up. "You mean..." Byers asked breathlessly. "...we 
could go back and save JFK?"

The bartender shook his head. "Nope. That one's already been taken 
care of--fellow by the name of Sam Beckett..." He chuckled. "Although 
that's an interesting story. Only man I ever met who figured out how 
to get started on this path before his time."

"You mean...somewhere out there Kennedy's alive?" Frohike asked, 
confused.

"No, he died. That was a necessary turning point in history, sad to 
say. But Jackie's alive."

The three men stared at him blankly. Fox smiled. "You don't remember 
that. You were still in the normal time stream when it was changed."

"No," he continued, "I'm not talking about conspiracies and cover-ups 
here, gentlemen. At least, not many. I'm talking about individual 
lives. Going back in time to a moment where one life went wrong and 
setting it right. Think you three can work on that small a scale?"

"But what about the Truth?" Byers almost lamented.

The bartender just kept smiling. "You've left that quest in good 
hands. Your friends--Jimmy and Yves, Fox and Dana, John and Monica 
and Walter--they'll carry on for you. But it was never just about the 
conspiracies, was it?"

"No," the unofficial leader of the trio admitted. "It was about 
justice."

"Saving lives, making the world a better place," Frohike added with a 
slow nod.

"Making our lives count for something," Langly rounded out.

The man behind the counter nodded. "There's no quest more noble than 
that. But there's also nothing wrong with being ready to lay your 
arms down and accept the rest you've earned. It's your choice."

The three men looked at each other again, conversing without words 
just as they had before Frohike pulled that fatal alarm.

"Will we be able to stay together?"

Fox nodded, the smile broadening. "I think I can arrange a special 
dispensation."

"Dispensation?" Frohike frowned.

"Normally, the travelers we send out from here can only move back and 
forth within their own lifetimes. But rather than limit you all to 
Ringo's lifetime here..." He nodded at the blonde man. "...I think 
we'll set Melvin's birthday as the starting point."

The three men nodded, then Byers asked, "How will we know what to do?"

The bartender smiled. "Follow your hearts, like you always have. 
You'll find your way."

Circling around the bar, he came to stand behind them, placing one 
hand on Frohike's shoulder, one hand on Langly's, and looking Byers 
straight in the eyes when they turned to face him. "Just remember, 
whenever you get tired, you can come back here to rest for as long as 
you need. And when you're ready to move on, you'll know. Now...ready 
to go?"

Looking at his two friends, Byers reached out and laid one hand on 
the bar. Frohike and Langly covered it with their own, like they had 
on the window of the fire door. Whatever lay ahead, they would face 
it together just as they always had.

"Yes."

The bartender smiled. "God bless, boys."

Then with a ripple of electricity and a bright flash of blue light, 
they vanished.


FIN

Author's Note: Just for the record, I always hated the final episode 
of Quantum Leap. But it was more for the final sentence--"Dr. Sam 
Beckett never returned home"--and the uncharacteristic surreality of 
the plot, rather than for the content of the episode in and of 
itself. I actually found the notion that people who had "died" 
heroically had gone on to become Leapers rather an appealing one, and 
I was drawn back to it when I was looking for a way to resurrect 
Byers, Frohike and Langly without cheapening the sacrifice they had 
made. I also played around a bit with the mythology of that final 
episode and not all of it is explained in the story. For example, the 
reason the bartender's name is "Fox" and not Al is because I imagine 
he always appears to someone using the name of a friend they had to 
leave behind. In Sam's case, Al. In the Gunmen's...well, it was 
either Mulder or Jimmy and since Mulder wasn't able to be there for 
the funeral, I felt it should be him. Feel free to e-mail me with any 
questions--I'd be happy to clarify anything that needs it.