TITLE: Best Performance By….
AUTHORS: Sally-Ann Maslen and Marissa Edwards
RATING: PG (language, violence and adult themes)
CATEGORY: T H and a tiny bit of X
SPOILERS: Season 4 mostly, though there are references to the first 3 seasons and the movie.
KEYWORDS/TIMELINE: Alternate Universe - of a sort. UST. Real life people.

This story take place over the 2 days prior to and including the 1997 Golden Globe Awards. In XF terms it takes place prior to Leonard Betts.

SUMMARY: Take a couple of actors and a couple of FBI agents. One pair en-route to a Hollywood awards ceremony and the other to a law enforcement conference. What happens if they both end up in the wrong place?

 DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction and should be accepted as such. Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, and all of the other characters from the X-Files mentioned herein belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and the FOX network. I am using them without permission and intend no copyright infringement. The actors who play them and the writers and producers who created them belong only to themselves. No offence was meant with their inclusion in this story and I hope they will accept my interpretation and any jokes aimed at them in the spirit that they were intended.

All other actors and characters of a TV or film nature belong either to themselves or their creators.

Everyone else belongs to myself or Marissa.

AUTHOR NOTES: This tale began life back in the early months of 1997. Marissa had an idea for a story but needed a little help to get started. I was experiencing a rare burst of creativity and volunteered. Various real life issues meant the writing took us much longer than originally planned and then inexplicably; I lost contact with my co-writer earlier this year - leaving the story almost, but not quite finished. After battling a few more of those real life demons I have completed it and present it now for your enjoyment.

Further notes at the end of the story.

Marissa Edwards and Sally-Ann Maslen

"Have you got everything?"

"Jeezus. Tom, Will you stop fussing." David Duchovny was tired, bored and irritable.

"I wasn't talking to you," said an exasperated Tom Braidwood. He focused on the petite woman.

"Tom, I'm OK - I can handle it" Gillian Anderson was becoming as bored as her co-star was. Duchovny slipped a friendly arm around her waist

"Tom, Fuck off will ya...leave the girl alone."

Gillian gave him a brief smile and reached over to pat the Assistant Director's arm, " Really Tom, I'm OK. I'm more worried about the presentation."

"Hey, at least they asked you to present an award, " David grumbled.

Gillian glanced up at him and raised her eyebrows. It was a look any X-Phile would recognise.

"Jealous?"

"Yup."

One word, but the delivery was so straight, so deadpan...so Mulder.

Tom Braidwood blinked. He wondered sometimes if they realised they did that, - slip into their character's voices.

A fresh faced blonde in airport attire approached them, "Excuse me, Miss Anderson, Mr Duchovny - the plane is boarding now."

"Thanks," Duchovny flashed her a smile. The woman's professional demeanour wavered ever so slightly.

Removing his arm from Gillian's waist he picked up the small carry-all at his feet.

Gillian gave the small man another pat of reassurance, "Tom, Chris is meeting us at LA. He and FOX probably have a whole team working on damage control right now so don't worry - I'm not."

Braidwood gave her a quick hug and kissed her cheek, "For you anything."

He watched them walk away, "Hey guys?"

Anderson and Duchovny looked back.

"Good Luck."

----------------------------

"Have you got everything?"

"Jeezus. Sir, will you stop fussing." Fox Mulder was tired, bored and irritable.

"I wasn't talking to you" said Walter Skinner. He focused on the red headed woman.

"Yes sir - I've got everything." Dana Scully was becoming as bored as her partner.

Walter Skinner eyed the two Agents. He would have preferred sending someone else, but when all was said and done Agents Mulder and Scully were the FBI's brightest. Their individual and combined skills made them the best choice to represent the Bureau at the Tri-Nation seminar.....if only he could be sure Mulder wouldn't antagonise anyone.

The same instincts that allowed Fox Mulder to anticipate a killer's next move or spot a conspiracy from 500 paces worked just as well on his boss. "Don't worry Sir, I'll be on my best behaviour."

A fresh faced blonde in airport garb approached them, "Excuse me, Agent Mulder, Agent Scully - the plane is boarding now."

"Thanks," Mulder flashed her a smile. The woman's professional demeanour wavered ever so slightly.

Scully picked up the carry all at her feet. "Don't worry Sir, I'll keep an eye on him."

"I promise to be the very model of Bureau decorum." said Mulder with a grin.

"I wish I could believe that Agent Mulder." Assistant Director Skinner handed them the airline tickets.

Mulder glanced briefly at the document, "How come we rate First Class for this trip?"

Skinner shrugged his shoulders, "It's not my doing - the instructions came from the Director himself. Probably wants to make an impression."

Dana Scully arched an eyebrow at her partner, "What are you complaining about Mulder? I thought you would appreciate the extra leg room."

"I do. You, however might get lost in those big comfy seats."

Walter Skinner forestalled Scully's reply with a wave of his hand, "Save it for the plane. Get going."

Mulder picked up his own bag. With a hand resting delicately on her back he directed his partner towards the exit.

Skinner watched them walk away, "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully?"

They looked back at their boss.

"Good Luck."

----------------------------

David Duchovny closed the book and removed his glasses. He glanced at the woman seated beside him. Gillian had fallen asleep moments after the plane reached cruising altitude. He pocketed the glasses and leaned back in the seat rehearsing the acceptance speech he hoped he would get to use.

Sleep claimed him before he got past 'Thank you.'

-----------------------------

Dana Scully closed the medical journal she was reading and removed her glasses. She glanced at the man seated beside her. Mulder was out like a light. She pocketed the glasses and leaned back in the seat rehearsing the speech she was scheduled to deliver.

Sleep claimed her before she got past 'Ladies and Gentlemen.'

------------------------------

Fate, Chance, Kismet. Three words, one meaning.

Across immeasurable distances they clashed and melded.

Neither the sleeping agents or their acting counterparts felt the ripple as time and space wavered and shimmered for one brief electric moment.

********************************************

Special Agent Dana Scully opened her eyes and stretched. Putting on her glasses and reaching for her book, her hand brushed against something unfamiliar in her lap. She reached for it and squinted, her eyes widening in amazement. It looked like a speech, written in vaguely recognisable, cursive writing. It looked like hers, but Scully couldn't be sure.

"Whoa, this is such a surprise. I really didn't expect to win...."

< what >

She shook her head unbelievingly and searched for her bag. But instead of finding her black carry-on, she discovered a small green backpack sitting underneath her seat. She frowned. Scully pulled out a square, cream envelope and unfolded the letter inside.

Dear Ms Anderson

Congratulations! You have been nominated for Best Actress in a Drama Series at the 1997 Golden Globe Awards, for your portrayal of Special Agent Dana Scully on The X-Files....

Scully's mouth went dry as the words registered in her mind. She reached over to the next seat and tugged at her partner's arm. "Mulder!"

She stopped, horrified to discover he was no longer wearing his usual suit and tie, but was clothed in faded jeans and a black leather jacket. Glancing down at herself, she discovered she was wearing black jeans and a white blouse, her feet encased in black ankle boots.

She hit him harder and he jerked awake. Automatically reaching for his weapon he was surprised to find it missing. The sleep haze cleared and his jaw dropped slightly as he took in what they were both wearing.

Scully handed him the paper she found in her lap.

He read it silently, then reached into the pockets of his own jacket. Pulling out what seemed to be an acceptance speech scrawled on the back of a Shooting Schedule he glanced around their surroundings,

"Scully?"

"I know, Mulder. Something strange is happening." she replied, glancing outside of his window at the late-afternoon sunshine sprinkling the clouds. The entire situation had a weird, dreamlike quality but Scully wasn't too concerned about the ambience - yet. She wanted answers.

Mulder pressed the flight-attendant call button above his seat and followed Scully's gaze outside. There was something extremely odd going on here.

A vaguely familiar blonde woman arrived next to him and smiled. "You called, Mr Duchovny?"

Mulder blinked and glanced at Scully. "Uh, I - I think we may have a problem here."

"And what might that be?"

The woman was obviously flirting with him, Scully noticed curiously - she was used to women trying to chat up Mulder but this woman's fawning was.... weird?

"Umm - my partner and I are a little confused. Ummm…who are we?"

The blonde stewardess eyed them nervously for a moment then her face broke into a smile.

"Oh, I get it. This is one of those X-File promo things, right? You guys come along and pretend to be Mulder and Scully to try and fool unsuspecting travellers, am I right? No such luck."

Scully looked at Mulder, beginning to get very worried. This woman sounded like trouble.

"I've watched the show since the very beginning," the stewardess went on "And I have to say my favourite episode is Duane Barry. From what I recall, the filming of that was pretty tough on you, right?" She gave Scully a knowing smile and Scully felt a cold sweat break out across her forehead.

As the woman smiled again and walked down the aisle, Scully turned to Mulder unsteadily. "Mulder, I'm getting a little scared. What did she *mean* 'the filming was pretty tough' on me?"

"I don't know, Scully," Mulder said nervously.

He opened the black carry-on bag at his feet and searched carefully, coming up with a pocketbook containing two airline tickets from Vancouver, British Columbia, to Los Angeles California.

Panic formed a lump in his throat.

And handed them to Scully. Deer caught in the headlights of 4x4 couldn't have competed with the wide-eyed shock in Scully's eyes as she passed the tickets back to him. "Mulder? ..what does....?"

Suddenly the pilot's voice rang out over the intercom: "Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now 25 minutes from commencing our descent into Los Angeles airport. If you are scheduled for a later flight, please remain within the complex and proceed to the Departures lounge. All baggage can be claimed on the ground floor after arrival. Temperature in L.A is estimated to be a clear seventy four degrees. On behalf of our cabin crew and co-pilot, I'd like to thank you for flying American Pride and trust you have enjoyed your flight."

The intercom clicked off and Scully stared at Mulder in horror. "Los Angeles?"

Suddenly the pilot's voice was back. "I'd also like to extend my congratulations and well-wishes to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, who are both nominated for Golden Globe Awards in the coming days and are flying with us this afternoon."

Mulder's face paled as the sound of cheers could be heard from Economy and a champagne cork popped beside him. He looked up, surprised, and found the blonde flight attendant smiling and holding out a glass..

He sipped the glass of champagne she handed him, beginning to enjoy this. Scully noticed the look on his face and nudged him in the ribs, at the same time accepting the champagne.

"I know this is imposing but ...could I have your autograph?" The woman pulled out a video and placed it on Mulder's lap.

Handing him a pen, she smiled at Scully and began to drool. "I just love this video. I've watched it at least seventeen times, which is a lot for me especially since I'm working most of the time."

Mulder's eyes narrowed as he read the title - The Master Plan - and passed it to Scully.

Reading the back of the video, she choked on her drink and handed the video back to her partner. He held the video gingerly, as though it might explode at any given moment and scribbled the name the pilot had announced - David Ducovny. He hoped to hell he had gotten it right. Why did the man - whoever he was - have to have such a *difficult* last name?

The flight attendant looked at it strangely for a second then smiled. "Well, if you want to spell it your father's way I won't hold you back. Thank you so much."

Mulder gave her a tight smile and fastened his seatbelt as the plane began to drop altitude rapidly. Scully looked like she was still reeling from the shock of the video and he didn't blame her. He was feeling a little woozy himself.

"I don't know if that's going to happen, Scully, but what I *do* know is that I have a *really* bad feeling about this."

----------------------------

By the time they reached the Arrivals Lounge the feeling was becoming worse and worse. Mulder clutched Scully's hand tightly as they made their way through the throng of people, heading for the Baggage Claim area. All Mulder wanted to do now was find a motel, get something to eat and figure out why their lives had been mercilessly turned upside down.

Suddenly they heard a voice shouting. "David! Gillian! Over here!"

They turned towards the sound and saw a large bunch of people running at them, shouting, grinning and waving frantically. Leading the pack was a man who looked to be in his early forties with greying blond hair. He was wearing a strange T-shirt and seemed to be the most unstable of the lot.

Mulder followed Scully's gaze to the man's grinning face and swallowed noisily. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled out of control. "What the hell is going on here?"

-----------------------------

 75 Miles East of Portland, Oregon
5:35pm

As soon as David Duchovny opened his eyes, he realised something was wrong. His neck felt as though it was being pushed through a meat grinder, being unceremoniously strangled by a madman. He finally located the source of the problem - a goddamn tie - and loosened it gratefully. Suddenly his hand stopped.

Why was he wearing a tie? Why was he wearing a suit?

He felt the pockets of his jacket, searching for some clue. He pulled out an FBI Identification Badge.

Special Agent Fox Mulder.

Beside him sat Gillian Anderson, dressed in a navy pants suit, her legs crossed neatly in front of her, smothered in FBI regulation stockings. A gold cross hung at her throat and pale pink lipstick decorated her lips.

"Gillian, wake up!" Duchovny shook his co-star's shoulder hard and she opened her eyes.

"David! What is it?" She flashed him an irritated glance and ran a hand through her hair, annoyed at having been woken.

"Gillian." David said quietly, gesturing to the FBI Identification Badges he held in his hand.

Her jaw dropped slightly as her eyes fell on the IDs. Then she sucked in her breath as she took in David's appearance. "David, what *happened* to you?"

"I think you mean what happened to *both* of us."

Gillian's mouth opened in shock as her eyes travelled over David's body. She reached into the jacket pocket and pulled out Scully's ID. She glanced at her fuzzy reflection in the television screen above her head and felt dizzy. It was good thing she was sitting down, because if she had been on her feet there was a good chance she might have fainted. "Where's my stuff?"

David's head jerked back. "Oh God, no."

They both simultaneously reached for the carry-on bags underneath their seats and both simultaneously felt shocked by disbelief.

Gillian pulled out a book, 'The New England Journal of Medicine' and threw it back inside with disgust. There was no sign of the speech she'd prepared, although she did locate a purse, compact and a magazine she had no desire to read.

David sounded a little awkward. "Don't you feel like you're invading their privacy?"

"Oh for God's sake, David! I don't know what the hell is going on here but I *would* like to find out! I want to know why *my* carry-on bag has disappeared and why there's a bag at my feet containing a magazine entitled 'Skeptics Anonymous!"

David hid a smirk as she yanked the bag out of his lap and began looking through it. The first thing she found was a leather-bound book of the journal kind, then a magazine - Celebrity Skin's Bumper Xmas Edition. Hidden within the front cover was a condom wrapper. She handed this to David with a roll of her eyes.

"I *love* your character's taste in literature, David." Gillian said dryly.

"What?"

Gillian fixed David with her best Scully look and added to that a disapproving frown, a combination that made David's throat tighten nervously. These days, when Gillian looked at him like *that* he was due to get his ass kicked.

He looked at the condom wrapper with a grin. "You don't think he's screwing Scully, do you?"

"You tell me."

Then Gillian located Mulder's pocketbook and frowned slightly. Tucked inside were two VIP tickets to The Federal Bureau of Investigation's Tri-Nations seminar in Portland, Oregon. She looked at the tickets in amazement and handed them to David. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"What you're *thinking* is impossible, Gillian. There is no way we could consciously trade places with our television characters, no way in the world."

Examining Mulder's pocketbook further, Gillian reached underneath the seminar tickets and found two boarding passes. F Mulder and D Scully. She closed her eyes briefly and placed them on her tray table.

"Two return passes from Washington D.C to Portland, Oregon." David read aloud.

"Fine. I'm going to settle this once and for all. There has to be some mistake here."

Gillian got up and stalked over to the nearest stewardess, who greeted her with a friendly smile. "Ms Scully, is it? We were warned the Bureau would be flying with us tonight."

"No, it *isn't* Ms Scully, it's Ms Anderson. And I'd like to know what the fuck is going on here."

The woman stared at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Is this some kind of silly joke? - why am I done up like my *television* character?!"

By now the blonde stewardess was backing away and motioning to a burly co-pilot who had arrived from the cockpit. They both eyed Gillian nervously.

David was on his feet in a flash, a hand on her arm. "Agent Scully."

"What?" she hissed, her face flushed with embarrassment, noticing the looks several passengers are exchanging.

David guided her back to her seat, an arm resting casually over her shoulder. She looked at him furiously and scowled at the co-pilot, who was still watching her warily.

"Er...when are we landing in ...?" David asked the stewardess using boyish smile #5 as backup.

"Uh, Oregon, sir." she replied. "We should be heading into Portland Airport in about fifteen minutes."

Then they all looked at Gillian, who fixed them with a cold stare.

"I purchased a plane ticket to Los Angeles," Gillian said, in a clear, level voice. "*Los Angeles* is where I want to go."

----------------------------

As the automatic doors to the terminal opened, Gillian almost ran inside, searching the place for anything out of the ordinary. She saw nothing and breathed a sigh of relief.

"David, I think I know what happened. We must've gotten onto the wrong plane back in Vancouver. We must've taken the wrong flight, a flight to *Portland* instead of L.A."

"But Gillian, how do you explain - "

"Look, I don't want to try and figure out anything else right now," she rushed ahead, avoiding the question, "All I want to do is get a hotel room tonight and call Chris as soon as possible. We can fly out of here first thing tomorrow morning. The important thing to remember is that we're *okay* and that everything is *alright*."

But David had seen something Gillian had not, and as the image imprinted itself on his memory he spoke, his voice almost shaking.

"Gillian," he said softly, "I'm afraid you are quite wrong."

---------------------------

Mulder followed Scully's gaze to the man's grinning face and swallowed noisily. When he finally spoke, his voice trembled out of control. "What the hell is going on here?" -

Before Scully could hazard a guess the reception committee came to a halt in front of them. The greying blond man in the black T-shirt seized her in a quick hug. As he pulled away to greet Mulder she could clearly see what was written on the shirt, a large green X, across it in smaller text were the words 'The X Files' - the X was circled. She glanced at her partner as the man reached over to slap Mulder on the back. With the barest of nods he signified that he had noticed the shirt.

One of the things that defined their relationship - that made the team they were, was their ability to know what the other was thinking. All good partners learn to do this, it was a necessary part of the job. But Mulder and Scully had taken it further. Walter Skinner had once confided in a friend that the spookiest thing about the pair wasn't the cases they investigated, but the way they seemed to conduct entire conversations with one look. They were doing it now.

<Mulder...that shirt....it says X-Files - like the video>

<I see it Scully>

<What does it all mean?>

<Dunno...I have a theor...>

"David?....Gillian? Earth to Gillian." The man in what she now thought of as The X-Files shirt was alternately clicking his fingers in front of their faces.

"Hey, are you two with us? You look zoned. What were they serving on that plane?" The blond man was grinning at them.

Another man, this one younger and bearded spoke up. "Leave them alone, Chris - they're tired. Apart from the flight, they both had 6 hours of filming this morning."

The blond man - Chris - shrugged lightly, "Sorry about that but it can't be helped - we've got to keep up the schedule." He gestured towards a third man who relieved them of the bags they carried. Stepping between them 'Chris' put an arm around their shoulders, "But you'll have plenty of time to rest up before Sunday. Now we've....." Still talking he steered them towards the exit.

Over the top Chris's head Scully's eyes sought Mulder's.

<What'll we do now?>

<...for now...go with it Scully>

---------------------------

 Portland Airport
Portland, Oregon
6:20pm

The guns.

While Gillian was hurrying from the plane David had rummaged through the bags again for a clue to their dilemma. That's when he found the guns. One in each bag.

Somehow Gillian had missed them.

Two Smith and Wessons, holstered and lethal. Just like the props they used on the show. Only these were real - very real.

"What?! David, let's just get out of here." Gillian spun angrily.

He shook his head and held out one of the weapons.

"That's just a ..."

"It's real Gill, trust me."

Gillian took the gun from him, opening her mouth to protest, but the moment it was in her hand she stopped. Both had done a bit training on the shooting range with the Vancouver police - just to familiarise themselves with handling the weapons. She knew from the weight and feel that David was right.

"What...??"

"I don't know...yet. But you're right - we have to get out of here."

"How....???" Gillian scanned the airport.

David dropped the bags and turned her by the shoulders to face him.

"Gillian. Listen to me. Before we can do anything we have to get past the security check. Everything we have here labels us Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. Remember that. Think Scully - how would she do this?"

Gillian closed her eyes. The studio, the locations, the business suits. Her shoulders went back, she lifted her head higher. When she opened her eyes she was Scully.

David nodded approval. He clipped his own gun to his belt and pocketed the ID.

Gillian did the same.

Putting a hand to her lower back he turned her towards the guard,"...and Action."

********************************************

They made it past security. Playing Mulder and Scully had become second nature - it was easy to keep up the facade. Carrying their bags towards the exit Gillian ventured a non Scully question.

"What now?"

"Like you said - we try and find Chris and hopefully get out of this."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"You don't happen to have the Lone Gunmen's number do you?"

David didn't feel the elbow to his ribs. The man waving frantically at them from beyond the barrier gates was a distraction.

"Uh oh."

"What?" Gillian turned to follow his gaze. "Bruce?"

"Somehow I don't think so."

Bruce Weitz - or as fans of their show knew him - Agent Moe Bocks beckoned and called. "Agent Mulder. Dr Scully!"

-------------------------------------

David exchanged a stricken look with Gillian as Agent Bocks headed towards them.

"Whoa, what a coincidence. Didn't think you'd be seeing me again. How've you been? Recovered from your ordeal yet?"

His question was obviously directed at Gillian and she regarded him nonchalantly. "Oh, it was nothing."

"*Nothing*?" Agent Bocks' eyebrows went up and he glanced at David.

"Oh yeah, I will admit that the filming was pretty tough, you know, after having Piper and all but I loved the episode it was - *ow*!"

Gillian looked up to glare at David who had just stood on her foot. Meeting his gaze she gasped, a flush spreading over her cheeks.

"But, uh, I received counselling as soon as we got back to, ah, Washington so I'm feeling a lot better now, thank you."

He looked at her uncertainly. "You sure?"

Gillian smiled at him. "Absolutely."

Agent Bocks smiled too and directed them towards the exit doors. "You're heading to the conference, right? So am I. I was considering bringing up the Pfaster case as an example during your lecture Agent Mulder - hope you don't mind - I've been preparing a report of murders related to fetishistic impulses during the last ten years."

"Not at all." David replied, holding the door for Gillian and stepping out into the pouring rain. Gillian cringed as a crack of thunder sounded in the darkening sky.

"Look like we're in for a big one," Moe Bocks observed, hailing a taxi and placing his bags in the trunk. "You guys staying at the Hilton Head with the rest of us?"

"Rest of us?" Gillian echoed, glancing at David.

"Yeah, the entire conference is taking up more than three hundred rooms. By the way, Ms Scully I'm looking forward to your speech tomorrow."

"My speech?"

"Yeah I know it's scheduled as basic forensic pathology but I know a few of the guys have some heavy questions for the Q&A part."

Gillian gulped. "Forensic pathology?"

"Yeah , well..I'll see you at nine tomorrow morning. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll see at the hotel."

Moe Bocks smiled at them and the taxi left. David and Gillian turned to each other.

"David, I can't give a lecture on forensic pathology!"

"I know, Gill. Look.... we spend the night here, then fly to Washington D.C first thing tomorrow morning. At least we can stay in their apartments there until we figure out what to do."

Gillian sighed, glancing at the thunder-filled clouds. "Alright."

-----------------------------

 Four Seasons Hotel
Los Angeles, California
7:21pm

Chris threw the door open and smiled at Mulder and Scully as they walked, awe-struck, into David Duchovny's suite.

"So, what do you think? An open view of the skyline, complimentary champagne in the bar, free cable, queen-size bed - all the comforts of home." Chris grinned again and his enthusiastic smile made Scully feel slightly light-headed.

"Where's - where's my room?" she asked, noting that Mulder had already spied the cable guide and was eagerly flipped through the adults-only section.

Chris grinned again and his enthusiastic smile made Scully feel slightly light-headed.

"It's just down the hall. Suite 79. Want me to show you the way?"

"No, that's okay. I need to talk to Mul - David about something."

"I'll see you both in the lobby for dinner at eight, okay?"

"Sure, fine, whatever." Scully replied without thinking, causing Chris to burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"Whoa, you sure know how slip into character, don't you Gillian?"

He was still laughing as he closed the door behind him, failing to notice the helpless looks on the faces of Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.

Scully flopped into the nearest armchair and looked around the room appreciatively. "These people have good taste, whoever they are."

"Scully, I have a theory. What if, somehow, we traded places with these people, uh, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, the actors who play us on television?"

"On *television*?" Scully placed her hands on her hips and gave him The Look.

"Yeah." He handed her a copy of TV Guide and she gaped at it in amazement. There, in plain, black lettering were the words The X-Files. 9:00pm Sunday nights.

"Oh my God, Mulder, they're stealing our lives! They're using us without permission! As soon as we get back to D.C I want to sue the network for infringement of copyright!"

When she wanted to Scully could do sarcasm.

"Scully, have you ever considered that perhaps...they created us?"

Scully's mouth fell open. "Mulder, you're nuts!"

"I just can't see any other way to explain it. In *this* world, we're actors - David Doowhatshisface and Gillian Anderson. And that man, Chris, he writes about *us*. He directs us. It's as though our lives are the paper and he's holding the pen!"

"Look, Mulder, let's just say it's a coincidence, alright? I think that all this is a case of mistaken identity. These people, David and Gillian, are -"

" - the same height, the same weight, the same body, the same eye colour, the same hair colour, the same age *and* their flight path crossed ours. And you're saying it's a coincidence. I'd like to get the odds on that in Vegas."

"What do you mean, their flight path crossed ours?"

Pulling out a Travel Brochure detailing the West Coat, Mulder pointed.

"We flew from east to west, right? *They* flew from north to south. As they flew from Vancouver to Los Angeles, our flights could have easily crossed paths. You understand me?"

"You're saying me went through a time warp?"

"Maybe not a time warp but a *character* warp. A character *rip*!" Mulder replied.

"Yeah, I once read a Stephen King book like that." Scully gave him a exasperated look and headed for the mini-kitchen. Searching through the fridge, she rolled her eyes and pulled out a jug of root beer.

"With our compliments, Chris and Dori." Scully read the note attached and handed it to Mulder. He frowned at her and walked to the windows.

"You know, Scully, all along we've been thinking that the people we've encountered are the crazy ones. *They're* the ones that should be checked for emotional instability, perhaps even committed to a room with padded walls."

He caught Scully's eye and succeeded in making her smile. "But, Dana, now that I think about it, whatever we've gone through has only happened to us. These people, Chris. Dori, the flight attendant, the pilot - reality is exactly the same for them as it has always been. This *thing* we have experienced has only affected us."

Scully found her voice. "What about David and Gillian?"

"I'm figuring that if *we* ended up in Los Angeles, they must have touched down in Portland. I just hope they're smart enough to realise what's going on."

Scully gave him another look, this time one of *pure* scepticism, and headed for the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower before dinner. I suggest you take a look through Mr Duchovny's clothes and find something wearable."

Mulder sat down on the edge of the king-size bed and gazed at David Duchovny's suitcase sadly. The words 'D Duchovny, Vancouver - Los Angeles' bought on a surprising pang of homesickness and he swallowed a not quite lump in his throat. He thought of his mother and how she would react if another child disappeared. Blinking slowly, and over the sound of water running in the bathroom, Fox Mulder mouthed a prayer.

< God let us get home somehow >

---------------------------

 Hilton Head Hotel
Portland, Oregon
7:50pm

Gillian stalked inside and almost slammed the door in David's face. He followed her and took a seat in the armchair closest to the window. Gillian collapsed on the couch as lightening illuminated the room. "God, what a day."

"I doubt tomorrow will be any better." David offered pessimistically, flicking the television on and scanning the channels.

Gillian eyed him worriedly. "David, turn that off. We have to arrange some kind of plan in order to...get back to where we came from."

Watching the television screen dissolve into blackness, David placed the remote control on the table to stare at her. "What do you mean 'back to where we came from'? What do you think has happened to us?"

Gillian took a deep breath. "We flew from north to south, right? *They* flew from east to west. As they flew Washington D.C to Oregon, our flights could have easily crossed paths. You understand me?"

"You're saying we went through a time warp?"

"Maybe not a time warp but a *character* warp. A character *rip*!" Gillian replied.

"Yeah, I once read a Stephen King book like that." David gave her an exasperated look and headed for the mini-kitchen. Searching through the fridge, he rolled his eyes and pulled out a jug of iced tea.

"Must be fate, Gill," he quipped, finding two glasses and handing one to her. She sipped warily and stared outside, shaking her head.

"What?" David asked, seeing the look on her face.

"I just can't believe this is happening," she replied, her voice shaking on the edge of hysteria. "I mean, a couple of hours ago, everything was perfect. We had a booking at the Four Seasons, I'd finally come to a decision about of Clyde, we were going to be attending the Golden Globes in -"

Her voice broke off midsentance and she raised her eyes to meet David's. "Oh my God, David, do you realise what this means?"

David looked at her tiredly. "Yes, I've already figured out that we won't be attending the Globes, there's no need to make it any worse."

"David, I promised Piper I'd call her as soon as I reached LA." Gillian said, her voice trembling and sounding a lot like Scully's

David reached out a hand and gently stroked her arm. "Gillian, she'd have been in bed by now anyway....and Clyde's probably been spoiling her rotten so she hasn't even noticed you're gone...." He winced at the stupidity for that last remark.

Fortunately for him Gillian was barely listening. "We have to get back."

"Of course we do - we just have to figure out how."

Gillian stood and started to pace. "If we're here, where are Mulder and Scully? Wouldn't it be logical to assume that right now *they're* in L.A with Chris?

David's eyes popped open. "Holy shit!"

"I just hope she doesn't mention the implant in her neck." Gillian murmured.

David joined her in pacing the space from bed to door, "As I said before, I don't want to hang around here for too long. And considering that you have to present your pathology speech in about eleven hours, we have to get out of here sooner rather than later."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Well, Los Angeles would be the obvious place, wouldn't it?" David asked. "When we get there we can find Chris and Rob and Glen and Jim and explain what a terrible mistake this has been."

Gillian stared at him. "David, don't you get it? The Golden Globes don't exist in this world. Sure, Los Angeles does, but even if we went there we wouldn't find anyone we knew. There is such a thing as The X-Files, but it isn't a television show. It's a part of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. And most importantly, *we* do not exist. David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson are *not* part of this parallel universe we have stumbled into. However, Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are. This is a place where television characters exist. What we went through was a rip between two worlds - our own and a world in which *fictional* people survive. I'm sure that if we stopped off in Chicago we'd find Cook Country General, complete with the character cast of ER. And I have a terrible feeling that if we searched the sewers of New Jersey we'd find the remains of that damn fluke from the second season."

David looked uncomfortable. "You know who you're beginning to sound like, don't you?"

She ignored him. "I think we should do what you suggested before - head back to D.C tomorrow morning and figure out what to do then."

"Alright. I'm going to go shower and shave, then *try* and sleep."

She nodded slowly and moved to one of the twin beds, drawing the blanket around her knees and gazing unhappily at Scully's luggage, which had been dumped unceremoniously at the foot of the bed.

Then she thought of Piper, and felt a sob rise in her throat. She reached up to touch the lump in her throat barely noticing the cross which hung there. She sniffled and whispered a prayer, muffled by the sound of water trickling down the window pane.

< Oh God just let us go home >

-----------------------------

 Four Season Hotel
Los Angeles California.

<Oh God just let us go home >

Mulder ran a hand over his face. It didn't wipe away the weariness. He looked around the suite again. Definitely beats some of the places we've stayed >. He reached for the suitcase.

< Shit!>. He leapt to his feet and rushed to the bathroom door.

"Scully...get out of there!"

Her voice sounded muffled behind the door, "Mulder, I was just about to get in the shower."

"Yes - my shower, my room. Gillian."

There was silence from the bathroom.

"You Scully, are welcome to use my shower anytime - I'll even lend you my favourite Knicks T-shirt to wear. However in this case...I think 'Gillian' had better go to her own room."

Mulder could easily imagined the look on Scully's face as she worked out the implications. He grinned when she replied, "I'll be right out."

Scully emerged a few minutes later. "Why didn't I think about that," she said sheepishly.

Mulder gently placed a hand on her arm, "Don't fret about it - I only just realised when I went to open the suitcase. Neither of us is thinking straight at the moment."

Scully nodded. Mulder was right. She gave herself a mental shake - showering in Mulder's room would have been a dumb enough act in normal circumstances.

Sighing heavily she walked over to the bed and sat down.

"Mulder, if what you say is correct - how are we going to do this? Those people - Chris and the others - are expecting David and Gillian to join them for dinner. What do we say? How do we act?"

Mulder leaned against the doorjamb. "We act like actors - how hard can it be?"

"Mulder. We know nothing of these people. We may already be behaving out of character." Scully looked down the hands in her lap, "For all we know 'they' could hate each other - I've heard of actors who do." She looked back up at him, "or.... they could be having a torrid affair or something."

Mulder moved from the doorway and crouched in front of her. Taking her hands he smiled. "In which case I'd say Duchovny has good taste." Pulling her to feet he continued, "So far nothing we've done has provoked much comment. As for not acting like David and Gillian.....remember what that guy at the airport said? About filming all morning? If things get too much at dinner we can plead tiredness and make our escape." He glanced at his watch. "You better get ready - Chris is expecting his stars at eight." Scully gave him a faint smile and released her hands.

He walked with her to the door and opened it. As she stepped into the corridor he started to speak again, "Don't worry..." He stopped and started again. "Don't worry, Gillian. It'll turn out OK."

Scully looked at him. "..?! what.." The penny dropped. "Thanks David - you've been a great help," she said as the two maids, arms laden with towels passed them. She turned and headed for her room.

She barely closed the door to her suite when the phone rang. She lifted the receiver and answered with a cautious 'hello'.

"See you can act. An Oscar winning performance."

"We're here for the Golden Globe awards Mulder, not the Oscars."

With that she hung up and went to investigate Gillian's taste in clothes.

********************************************

 Hilton Head Hotel
Portland Oregon.

Ignoring the woman on the bed David picked up Mulder's bags and went through the connecting door to the other room. Draping the suit bag over a chair he dropped the other bag on the floor and shrugged off his jacket, wondering like so many how Mulder could afford Armani. Tie and shirt joined the jacket in a heap on the bed. He hefted Mulder's suitcase onto the bed and opened it. And stared down at the contents.

Everything in the case was so familiar - the shirts, the running shoes, the grey sweat pants. He lifted out jeans and a denim jacket - he'd worn those in the Anasazi trilogy.

Now more than any other time in the last few hours it hit him what a dilemma they were in. He felt homesick . At this moment he would give anything to be back at the studio.

Tucked in the pocket was a book. A journal. Even this was familiar - it was Mulder's personal casebook. One of those little idiosyncrasies the writers dreamt up. For the life of him he couldn't remember which episode, but he knew he filmed a scene as Mulder writing in this exact same book. He flipped it open. After everything else the discovery that he and Fox Mulder had the same handwriting barely registered. He dropped the book on the bed and reached into the bag again.

Manilla folders - 5 of them; four marked with a red X. A quick scan of the type written pages in the fifth folder told him this was the lecture Mulder was to give at the conference. Suddenly it came to him and he chuckled < if this was a cartoon I'd have light bulb over my head >. He picked up the casebook and headed through to Gillian's room.

Gillian was in the same position he'd left her, staring blanket wrapped out the rain swept window.

"Gillian....Gill!"

Gillian snapped round to look at him, "I thought you were going to take a shower."

"I will. Look at this." He tossed the folder and journal into her lap. Gillian gave the pages a once over.

"So? It's Mulder's speech and casebook - big deal."

"Don't you get it? We have the edge." At her perplexed look he continued, "We - you and I - know enough about Mulder and Scully....how they move and act....to fool people. Remember the airport? Getting past security?"

"What the fuck are you on about?" Gillian was confused.

"What I'm trying to say is we stay here - no flying off to Washington first thing in the morning."

"It was *your* idea to head back to DC."

"Yeah, well it wasn't one of my better suggestions. This is a Tri-Nation Conference - the hotel is full of government agents - American, Canadian, and British. Bocks is probably one the few who has *actually* met Agents Mulder and Scully. Gill, if we go back to DC we'll be surrounded by people who know Mulder and Scully very well. Skinner, Pendrell, Cancerman, Margaret Scully."

"David - in case you forget 'Scully' is due to give a forensic lecture at 9am tomorrow."

"And I'm willing to bet that somewhere in one of those cases," he gestured to the bags on the floor, "is a copy of Scully's lecture. All you have to do is slip on one of those perfect little 'Scully suits' and read the script."

"Are you suggesting we pretend to be Mulder and Scully - for real? What good will that do us? We'll still be stuck in the wrong place."

"What I'm saying is we're safer here. We won't have to answer any awkward questions and we'll have more time to figure this thing out."

Gillian shook her head, "You're forgetting one thing David. What about the *real* Mulder and Scully? They're probably in LA at this moment - what are they doing?"

David grinned, "Probably being wined and dined by Chris." He crouched down in front of her and took her hands.

"Gill, our characters are intelligent people. If you can come up with a theory you can bet Mulder has too. They are probably doing the same thing we are. They don't have the advantage we have, but I'm hoping....trusting.... that they're both smart enough to play it safe and keep quiet."

He stood and picked up the folder and book. "I'm going to take that shower now. Why don't you do the same and then we order up some room service and rehearse our roles," he said, waving the folder. "Maybe the only way to get out of this mess is to start thinking like Fox and Dana." With that he turned and headed for the door.

"David." He looked back at the woman on the bed. "I'm warning you, if I have to perform an autopsy - it will be on you."

------------------------

 Four Seasons Hotel
Los Angeles, California
9.15pm

"And then there was this convention here a couple of months ago where this girl with red hair turned up dressed in a trenchcoat wearing a cross. That was all. *Nothing* on underneath. When it came to her turn to ask Doug a question, she tore off the coat and started dancing. Naked. She told Doug she'd been inspired to do it by that last scene in Tooms - you know, when he's under the escalator? Eventually the security guards dragged her off, but Doug said he wished they'd left her there a little longer..."

The table exploded into laughter, Mulder included. He didn't know what the hell Chris was on about, but he'd heard the words "red hair", "trenchcoat" and "naked" in the same sentence and he liked it.

"So David, who's the lucky girl for the Globes this year?"

Mulder swallowed, glancing at Scully. "I - I'm not really sure. I was thinking maybe I'd just...find someone here in L.A. If anyone will want to go with me, that is."

Chris stared at him. "You really need to go on the Internet more often. When did you last visit the DDEB? Or the newsgroups? Checked out the mailing lists? Wandered into a chat room? David, in both cyberspace *and* reality, you and your Globe date are a big topic."

"Speaking of," Jim Wong interrupted, "some of the crew are running a book on who you'd take if you end up taking one of your old girlfriends."

Mat Beck laughed. "I got Dana Wheeler Nicholson"

Mulder and Scully glanced at each other and spoke simultaneously. "Dana *who*?"

"Dana Wheeler-Nicholson." Chris replied, accepting the plate of sushi passed to him by Glen Morgan. "You remember...Detective White from Syzygy. Surely you can't have forgotten her already."

John Bartley laughed "Jeez - David I know you've dated a few girls since you split with Perrey but I didn't think there were so many you'd forgotten their names."

"Let's see there was Dana, Lisa, that Melrose chick - Kirsten was it?" counted Glenn.

"and Winona - don't forget Winona." Chris said, sipping wine.

"And Winona - you still haven't told us the story on that one," continued Glenn

"Remember the blonde - the lingerie model?" added another voice.

Mulder tuned out. He found this discussion of Duchovny's love life somewhat embarrassing. If he wanted to be honest with himself he would also admit he was a bit jealous. But honesty was not a high priority at the moment.

Mulder took the opportunity to glance at Scully and see how she was coping.

What appeared to be a slight frown touched the corners of her lips as she watched and listened to Chris describe a run-in Duchovny had with an amorous fan. Sensing his gaze she turned and glanced at him briefly then dropped her eyes, and her fork to the floor.

Before he could act she bent to retrieve it. Concerned he watched her. Her actions had seemed deliberate <Is she angry with me about something?>

Gently he placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered, "Scully?"

She looked up and away in a less than a second.

That was enough. <She's laughing?!?>

Burst of laughter from the table drew his attention away from his partner.

Carter wiped the laugh tears from his face. That story always broke him up. He looked across to his stars and froze. David was not laughing. Usually he was the first one to butt in and embellish the story but he hadn't said a word. He watched as Duchovny faked a laugh, his eyes straying to the woman beside him. <What the hell is Gillian up to?>

"You okay there, Gillian?"

She popped her head up immediately at the sound of Chris' voice. "I'm fine. Dropped my fork." She held up the offending utensil.

"Good. Now, the Globes are on in two nights. I presume that neither of you have had time to select anything to wear? Right?? David, I've got you organised - if we'd gotten one more fucking email or letter begging you to wear a black tuxedo I'd have told you to hell with it and go buck naked, but I don't think the network could handle the saliva - they're still recovering from the speedos. I got your measurements from wardrobe and had someone pick up a tux. It's back at the office. Gillian, I was thinking that you could find something tomorrow or we could get someone to pick something out for you if you've got other plans - the choice is yours. What do you say?"

Scully flushed and floundered for a moment, "Um.. I'd rather pick my own..sir..er...Chris"

"Good...good," He looked at Mulder, "Have you got any plans for the morning, cause PR wouldn't mind a fresh collection of signatures."

Before Mulder could form a suitable response Scully spoke.

"Actually I was hoping he could help me out...picking the dress. You know how lousy my taste is," she said little realising the truth.

"Sounds good to me." Mulder responded, exchanging a look with Scully, telling her to be calm.

Carter caught the exchange and a tingle went up his spine. <There's something weird here> Shaking his head clear he dismissed the sensation. "Yeah - good idea," he agreed. <Besides> he thought, it'll look good press-wise. He signalled to the waiter. "You guys want coffee?"

"Yeah. Cream, no sugar." Scully immediately replied.

--------------------------

It started the moment they left the lift.

Minutes before they had both pleaded tiredness and excused themselves from the dinner party. Chris had tried to get Mulder to stay, but one jaw-cracking yawn from his 'star' had convinced him the man needed rest.

The yawn hadn't been fake. Mulder *was* tired - even his bones ached with weariness. It had been one long weird day and even someone as used to weird as Mulder reaches their limits. All Fox wanted to do was lie down in his oversized bed and let his mind assimilate the last few hours.

But *she* started the moment they exited the lift.

She was smirking. He couldn't believe it. Scully didn't smirk. She didn't laugh under tables either but she'd done that tonight.

He checked the corridor - no one about. He grabbed her arm and propelled her against the wall.

"You mind tell me what is so fucking funny?"

"Sorry Mulder - but if you could have seen you face when that guy started listing your...I mean Duchovny's ex girlfriends."

"I'm glad you're finding some amusement here. I'm not. The sooner I figure out what's going on the better." He left her against the wall and stalked to his room, nearly breaking the key in his effort to open it.

Scully caught the door seconds before he slammed it shut. "Mulder!? What is your problem?" She gave a backward kick to shut the door behind her.

"Nothing - I'm tired and I want a shower." Mulder stripped the jacket from his back and headed towards the bathroom.

Scully didn't say a word. Mulder halted and watched her in the reflection of the balcony doors. <Damn!> Why did this always happen? She shouldn't have to put up with the weirdness that followed him. He moved to the glass and rested his head watching the lights of LA twinkle promise. The temptation was mighty.

"If you think you're ditching me this time you've got another thing coming."

He spun to face her, "Ditch?"

"Yes - your charming little habit of taking off the moment something more interesting comes along." She studied him from head to toe, " And don't tell me you hadn't thought about it."

Mulder contained his rising guilt. She was right, it had crossed his mind but fatigue had won out this time. He studied Scully. She looked as collected as usual - except for her eyes. They shone too bright. It's the stress of the situation he told himself. Stay cool, calm her down.

"I do not *ditch* you Scully." He spoke calmly and steadily, using the Oxford obtained skills even he forgot about at times. " It's been a long, tiring and very strange day and it's affecting you. You're behaving irrationally. I'll get you a glass of water - I suggest you calm down, drink it slowly and then go and get some sleep. We'll talk about this in the morning." He strode past her to the mini kitchen and turned on the tap, plucking a glass from the four sitting by the sink.

"Like hell we will - we'll settle this now!" Scully swirled to face him, posture calm and steadfast.

"Settle what?" said Mulder as the water overflowed the edges of glass.

Scully's laugh was harsh and bordering on the hysterical. "You don't ditch me!?!?!. What about Townsend, Cape Cod....Alaska? What about taking off to Hong Kong, Canada - Russia even? You do it so often I've run out of fingers and toes to count on. You just take off and leave me behind - expecting me to cover for you."

"I was following leads - there was no time to tell you."

"Of course not," Dana snorted. "That would be too much baggage. I went to fucking jail for you Mulder."

Mulder slammed the glass down onto the chrome. A wide crack from bottom to rim seeped more water into the sink. "Is that it? You want thanks? A pound of flesh?". With both hands he ripped open his shirt - buttons flying north, south, east and west. "Here! Help yourself!"

"What I want is some consideration. Let me know where you are."

"What? So you can detail your little spy reports?" Even as he said them Mulder regretted the words but her rage had triggered a response he had no control over.

Scully's eyes blazed laser blue. " I am not a spy. Damn it Mulder, you expect me to be there every minute of every day for you - to save your ass. Where the fuck are you when I need you?"

The weather outside was clear, there was no hint of storm, but Mulder still felt a lightning bolt. <Shit...Oh God >

For all his jokes, his education and his deadpan delivery Mulder was an emotional man - he blamed himself for all and everything and it showed - to those who knew what to see. Scully did. And she saw.

The slight paleness of flesh, the tightness of jaw, the stillness. < Oh Lord....shit....I didn't mean that >.

All the rage and frustration fled as Scully moved towards him. "..Mulder...' She took his arm. "I didn't mean it that way....you weren't to blame..."

Mulder stared down at her blindly. "No? It is my fault." He removed her hand. "Go to bed Scully ." He pushed her towards the door.

Dana looked back, "Mulder - I don't blame you for anything......really."

Mulder barely shrugged, "Later..."

"When we get back....when this is over...." Scully took one last glance and left the room.

"If we get back." Said Mulder to no one.

********************************************

The only light in the room came from the television. Fox Mulder flicked from channel to channel. Idly he recognised names - news reporters, movies, sitcoms . Others sounded eerily familiar - the names were different but the plots were the same. He wondered if Duchovny and Anderson had noted this. Most importantly, he tried not to think about Scully.

The telephone rang. Cautiously he answered, "Hello?"

"It's me."

Mulder relaxed back into the pillows. "Me?"

"...<sigh>...Can we talk?"

He heard the sigh and smiled.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"Your bed or mine." He felt her chuckle even before she replied.

"Yours - 3 minutes." The line went dead.

The door was opened before she raised her hand. Mulder stood there - sweat pants and Yale T-shirt. Dana walked past him and sat on the edge of the bed. Mulder closed the door and took a position on the opposite side.

"Mulder....I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

Fox reached across the bed and took her hand, "Forget it - we're in a strange situation....even for us." He let go of her hand and gestured to the room. "If I'd told you that first day that we would be sitting in a luxury hotel in LA being touted as big time TV stars would you have believed me?"

"Mulder - when you told me you were the FBI's most unwanted I didn't believe you. And I still wouldn't change a minute."

"Except maybe the Flukeman?" He reminded her of her words in Apison, Tennessee. Scully smiled her answer and for a few moments there was silence, each just enjoying the mere presence of the other.

Mulder looked away first.

"So what have we learned about our counterparts tonight?"

"Other than the fact that Duchovny has a better sex life than you?" Scully arched an amused eyebrow at him.

Mulder mocked offence, "Hey, I have a sex life!"

"Subscribing to Celebrity Skins and watching 'Vixens from Venus' six times in a row does not constitute a sex life Mulder." Scully started to chuckle.

"What!?"

Giggling, Dana answered. "I was just thinking about dinner - when Chris said he'd ordered for us. The look on your face when the waiter placed that tofu salad in front of you."

"Oh hardy ha ha. That man's diet is going to kill me," said Mulder with a smile. "So we know David is a health food nut and likes the ladies - what about Gillian?"

Dana stopped grinning. "...I'm not sure....but something personal has happened to her recently. I was asked four times if I was OK...was I handling the press. And Dori - she's obviously Chris's wife - asked me how Piper was."

"Piper? What did you say?"

Scully shrugged, "I just said Piper was fine." She was silent for a moment. "Mulder, did you notice that everyone was so....familiar with our cases?"

Mulder nodded, "But not our cases - episodes." Scully raised another eyebrow - this time in question.

"In this reality our cases are episodes of their TV series. Chris mentioned that Dana person as playing Det. White, and someone named Doug and an escalator. At a guess I'd say this Doug played Eugene Tooms on the show."

The idea that Tooms was just a fictional character was a tantalising one. That meant in this reality her sister and father were still alive and she hadn't encountered Duane Barry.

< No! that's wrong. Missy and Ahab aren't alive - they don't exist here > Scully suddenly felt very alone. It wasn't till Mulder waved his hand in her face she realised he was still talking.

"Sorry Mulder, I was thinking...."

Mulder smiled in understanding. "That's OK. I...I thought the same thing - about Samantha."

Scully looked into his hazel eyes and marvelled for the millionth time at how well he....no....they could read each other. She shook her mind back to now.

"You were saying?"

A soft grin from Mulder and he handed her folded magazine, "I said - then there's this."

Scully flicked to the cover. TV Guide. The page Mulder indicated was for the coming Sunday. Under the listings for the FOX network (she smiled at that) was

She looked up at Mulder wide-eyed, "....that's..."

"Spooky? Yeah. At least we know David and Gillian can answer any questions about our work.....well they can bluff."

Scully shuddered, "What if Gillian has to perform an autopsy or David profile a killer?"

"It shouldn't come to that - if they have any sense they will stay where they are. The convention is the safest place - Duchovny would realise that."

Dana felt the need to defend herself - or rather, her twin self. "And Gillian wouldn't?"

"I don't know about Gillian, but I think...I know... David is trained to logical thinking." He reached behind to the bedstand and handed her a book.

'The Anxiety of Influence' by Harold Bloom.

Scully flipped it open. The easy fall of pages spoke of a well read book and the margins were marked with scribbled notes of pencil. Eerily Duchovny had Mulder's handwriting.

"I found this in the suitcase. This is not the kind of book one reads for fun - it's a scholars reference. Duchovny had - has an academic background."

< He's profiling the guy > thought Scully. "I haven't really looked through Gillian's stuff yet - didn't have time," she said shyly. Apart from finding something to wear to bed she'd spend the past 20 minutes reliving and regretting every moment of their argument. She yawned.

There's a school of thought that says when someone yawns in your presence you are compelled to repeat the action. Mulder added himself to the statistic.

Rubbing his jaw with one hand Fox glanced at his watch. "It's nearly 11 Scully, and to be honest I'm exhausted. Can we finish this in the morning?"

"Mulder...?"

"Yes?"

"Can I stay here a while...watch some TV with you? "

Mulder studied her - taking in the shadows beneath her eyes, the drop of her shoulders. He looked around the room.

"It's a big bed Mulder - I don't bite." Scully easily read his thoughts.

"How do you know I don't?"

Dana didn't answer. Standing she undid the robe she wore revealing silky pink pyjamas.

"Nice PJs Scully."

Dana glanced down at herself and smiled. "It's funny - weird. I have a pair just like this in my baggage....not this quality though." She pulled back the covers and laid down.

Mulder toned down the lights and turned on the TV, flicking channels till he found a Bonanza re-run. Taking his place on the far side of the bed he mumbled "I hope for Duchovny's sake Gillian doesn't look as good."

-----------------------------

 Hilton Head Hotel
Portland, Oregon
8:15am

David opened his eyes to find Gillian perched on the opposite bed, furiously taking notes and murmuring under her breath.

< *what*? >

He blinked fuzzily, wondering where he was, wondering what his co-star was doing in his bedroom. He swallowed and his brow furrowed in concentration. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes hard, now trying to recall exactly where he was. He glanced outside and caught a glimpse of skyscrapers that were definitely not that of Vancouver.

Then he remembered.

Fuck.

But recalling that at last glance Gillian was dressed only in pink pyjamas, David smiled and sat up for a better look. "Good morning, sunshine."

She looked up and flashed him a tired smile when she noticed the expression of fading bewilderment on his face. "I know. I thought that too. I wondered what you were doing in my room and whether Chris knew about it."

"Then?"

"Then I remembered."

She gave him a tired look and sighed. "I was going over these notes till three in the morning before I finally dozed off and I still can't understand half of the things I have to say."

"You don't have to understand it - you just have to read it out".

"Damnit, David, what if I mess up? I can't do a retake here."

"Gillian, it is just a script - nothing more, nothing less. You're the one with all the stage experience. Just think of it as another play."

"I'm worried that someone will ask a question I can't answer."

"I'll be there to help."

"Oh yeah and what are you going to do? Stand up and ask me why I refuse to believe? Pull a line out of your photographic memory to try and save the day? "

"If I have to. Don't worry, we'll bluff it someway." David said mildly and got to his feet. He stretched and sauntered to his bathroom. "Go take a shower. Slip on something Scully- ish to wear and don't worry about it. You're still Gillian Anderson, and who better to play the role of Dana Scully than you - no one is going to notice the difference, believe me."

She glanced at him, confused. "Difference?"

He touched his upper lip and she almost smiled.

-------------------------

"Our first speaker of the day is Special Agent Dana Scully, from FBI Headquarters in D.C. She holds a medical degree and has been with the FBI for a number of years, dividing her time between a project known as The X-Files and teaching at the FBI National Academy in Quantico."

Applause swelled as Gillian walked onto the stage to the lectern. Luckily, it was the right height and she managed a smile as she gently adjusted the microphone.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for your kind welcome."

"Forensic science is the application of science to criminal investigation in order to provide evidence that can be used in the solution of criminal cases. Forensic scientists also play a vital role in criminal trials, where they may testify as expert witnesses. The forensic pathologist is concerned with determining the cause of sudden or unexpected death and will usually perform an autopsy on the victim to detect any signs of injury or disease that may have contributed to the death."

Gillian paused. "Questions?"

"What exactly is involved in an autopsy?" Special Agent Tom Colton smirked at the petite woman before him and Gillian stifled a groan. She scanned her notes and cleared her throat.

"The body is opened by making a deep, Y-shaped incision that extends from each armpit to the midline of the chest and continues down the midline to just above the pubic area. The rib cage is opened by cutting the ribs and sternum to expose the chest cavity. The abdominal cavity is exposed by pulling the edges of the incision aside. Organs are removed and dissected for examination of their internal structure, and small pieces of tissue and samples of body fluids may be saved for later chemical and microscopic analysis. The brain is removed through a round hole sawed in the skull in an area usually not visible to viewers at a funeral. After the autopsy is completed, organs not needed for further study are replaced in the body cavities, bones are put back in place, and all incisions are sutured..."

------------------------------

 Four Seasons Hotel
Los Angeles, California
7:21am

As soon as Fox Mulder opened his eyes he knew something was wrong. Lying beside him in a crumpled heap was his partner, her red hair spilling across the pillow, an expression of serenity painting her face.

He gulped.

He hoped he'd been good. The only strange thing was that he couldn't recall a single detail of what had happened. He hoped she used protection, cause he sure hadn't. How would they explain that one to Skinner? He was about to stifle a laugh when he noticed that his partner was no longer wearing her cross.

Then he remembered.

Fuck.

Last night, after dinner and the argument to end all arguments, they had decided to sleep together. He squirmed slightly - if truth be told, she had fallen asleep beside him and he hadn't the heart to wake her. He had forgotten how wonderful it was to sleep next to a woman and he couldn't blame himself for indulging in that pleasure.

There was a soft knock at the door. "David? You awake?"

He groaned silently. It was that weirdo Chris Carter.

Mulder glanced at the bed and bit his lip. This was going to look suspicious. One queen-size bed, two of them. Pretty soon, Chris would figure out what was going on and probably fire both David and Gillian from their show. Mulder was just glad he wasn't going to be around when they got back. If they made it back at all.

"Uh, yeah, just a second, Chris!"

Mulder walked to the bed and pulled the sheet over Scully's head. She made a muffled sigh and he hoped she'd be able to breathe underneath the covers. Then he walked to the door.

"Morning, David, you seen the weather? Gorgeous day. You know if Gillian's awake yet?"

"Uh, no." Mulder replied as Chris pushed past him into the room, walking past the bed and heading for the windows. He yanked the curtains open and grinned.

"Look at that skyline. Is that amazing or what? I told you we got you guys the greatest rooms possible. And for the money it's extremely reasonable. In my opinion - "

"Aw, Mulder, shut the curtains, will ya?"

A red head appeared from beneath the sheets and Carter's mouth dropped open. Mulder's reply was forestalled by the arrival of Jim Wong, Glen Morgan and John Shiban. They all looked from the bed to Mulder and from Mulder to Scully. Scully looked at Mulder, Mulder stared out the window and Carter narrowed his eyes.

"Well, Gillian, nice of you to join us. Will I draw my own assumptions or would you care to explain the situation to us?"

"Not really," said Scully, shooting a murderous look at her partner. He shrugged helplessly.

Finally Glen Morgan spoke. "Hell, Gillian, the ink's not even dry on the separation papers yet and you're in bed with David? Couldn't you at least have waited until you got back to Vancouver?"

"Why did you call him Mulder?" Shiban asked, suddenly interested.

Scully groaned out loud and Carter looked at her incredulously.

"Look, um, Gillian's always like this first thing in the morning - a little disorientated, um, it'll pass after she totally wakes up. I wouldn't worry about it." Mulder said nervously, taking a step away from the extremely frustrated Creator.

"Since when do you know what Gillian's like first thing in the morning?" Jim Wong asked.

"Yeah!" Scully demanded, sitting up in bed. "Since when do you know what I'm like first thing in the morning?"

Mulder pressed his lips together, avoided the question and stalked into the bathroom.

Chris glanced at the retreating Mulder then glared at his writing team. "Just keep it down will you?" He turned back to Scully and asked gently, "Is there something you'd like to tell me?"

"Nothing," Scully replied nervously, pulling the blankets up around her shoulders.

"Gillian, you wouldn't be lying to me, would you?"

"Of course not," Scully replied, her heart pounding.

Carter gave her a long look and walked outside. Glen, Jim and John followed and Scully let her breath out as the door closed behind them.

Finally, Mulder emerged from the bathroom, pale. "That was close." he said.

********************************************

David watched as the people filed from the room. "That went well."

Gillian slapped him hard on the arm. "Tell us bout the X-Files! Thanks a lot."

Duchovny rubbed his arm, "Fucking hell Gill, I was trying to help - The X-Files is one thing you should know."

"And now everyone thinks we're weird!"

"Read the character bios sweetheart - Mulder and Scully are weird, you just confirmed it." He looked down at his co-star.

"And what good will that do?"

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her till the carefully combed 'Scully' hair do collapsed "Listen to me, Gill. You have just told everyone that Mulder and Scully are crazy - they'll avoid us like the plague."

Gillian heard, heeded and understood.

"David - buy me a coffee and I just might cancel your execution."

They were half way across the lobby, following the scent of café latte when the voice hailed. "Mulder...? Agent Mulder."

Gillian and David halted and turned to the voice - a woman's voice - an English accent. Striding towards them was a woman they recognised - Amanda Pays. David looked down at Gillian, Gillian looked up at David. < Shit! - Phoebe Green! >

------------------------------

"Close??? Shit!!!" Scully fell back on the pillows, drawing the bed covers over her head.

Mulder crawled on to the bed and tried dragging the blankets off his partner. "Scully - get up...now!"

"No way!" came the muffled reply. "This is just a nightmare...a dream. I'll wake in a minute - in my bed, in my home."

Mulder finally got a grip on the covers and stripped them from the bed exposing a pink clad sleep tussled <and damn sexy looking > Scully.

From her position Scully saw a sleep stubbled, hair mussed <and damn sexy looking> Mulder.

"How do we get out of this?

"We tell the truth."

Scully sat up, the reaction bringing her practically nose to nose with Mulder.

Too close. She shuffled back against the bedhead.

"The truth?"

Mulder sank back on his knees. "Yes - you said it yourself last night. Gillian has some...some recent worry. You came here, we talked, you fell asleep - end of story."

Scully extracted herself from the bed and picked up her robe. "I hope it works."

Still kneeling on the bed Mulder answered, "It will Scully....trust me."

"Why am I suddenly very worried?"

----------------------------

 Hilton Head Hotel
Portland Oregon
10.16am

"Do something!" David wailed as Phoebe Green headed towards them, the deep green of her suit contrasting sharply with the light-filled lobby. Gillian licked her lips and thought quickly as David scanned the area for an escape route. There wasn't one.

"Meet you upstairs in three minutes," Gillian whispered and ran to the elevators as Phoebe arrived beside David, a smile gracing her pouted lips and dark red hair bouncing above her shoulders. David cringed as she enveloped him in a hug, her deep red fingernails digging into his forearm like the claws of a cat.

"Mulder! Fancy meeting you here!"

"Well, it *is* an international seminar," David replied dryly, trying not to cough as her heavy perfume clouded the air around them. She leaned closer and brushed his cheek with her lips, a giggle escaping her lips as she ran a hand through his hair.

"Always one for sarcasm, weren't you, Mulder?"

David extracted her arms from around his shoulders and rubbed his neck. "I'm surprised you even remember me. Must be at least three years since we last saw each other."

She laughed softly, caught in a memory David had no recollection of. "Mulder, there are parts of you I'm never going to forget, not for as long as I live. Are you staying here in the hotel?"

He glanced at her warily. "Yeah..."

"Then how about you take me up to your room and we'll work on building some more unforgettable experiences." Her accent was thick, her voice husky and Duchovny went pale.

"Phoebe, I - " His voice trailed off as she dragged him towards the elevators. As the doors opened, Phoebe led him inside and kneeled in front of him, licking her lips. She snagged his zipper with one fingernail and as David mouthed a prayer, slid his trousers to his ankles.

"Uh, Phoebe?"

"Yes, Mulder?"

"This might not be a good idea."

"Who cares. What happened to your spirit of adventure?"

"You don't suppose you could wait till we made it to the room?"

"Oh no, Mulder, I don't think I'm going to be able to wait another *second*..."

"Mmmhmmm..." David stammered as he pressed a button and the elevator doors closed behind them. Phoebe ran her hands over his legs and smiled up at him. "I've thought about you often. I read in the papers last year about a murderer you apprehended - Robert Modell. It was one hell of a case, Mulder. I was very impressed. I wouldn't have minded being in your shoes."

"Or my pants," David muttered as the elevator ascended rapidly.

As the elevator arrived at their floor, David hitched up his trousers and staggered out of the elevator, breathing hard. Phoebe followed, almost itching with anticipation. As David slid the key into the lock, Phoebe gasped and gripped his hand, pushing the door open and following him inside.

He closed the door loudly as Phoebe walked onto the balcony: "Gill?"

No answer. He swallowed hard as she came back inside, shrugging her jacket off and tossing it over a chair. Her blouse was a light, milky colour, her black bra clearly visible beneath the fabric. David grinned to himself as she stepped towards him, a flush creeping up his neck as he eyed her well-shapen body.

"Mulder..."

She took his hand and led him towards one of the twin beds, pulling back the sheets and evidently taking no notice of Gillian's bags thrown carelessly at the foot of the bed. She smiled at him and pulled off his shirt, tossing it beside the bed and removing her own blouse in doing so. David gulped.

"Oh Fox..."

She was murmuring under her breath and despite the danger David was becoming excited. He reached for her hands as her lips caressed his neck, silently travelling over his skin with barely-contained ecstasy. David moaned as she reached lower, silently wondering if it would be such a bad thing if Gillian never showed up at all. Right now he was extremely comfortable in the arms of Phoebe Green.

Gillian crouched in the bathroom, muttering a few choice words under her breath as her co-star let out yet another groan of rapture. This was becoming, she decided, almost as sickening as 'The Turning'. Something had to be done. Fast.

"Phoebe..."

Gillian narrowed her eyes and straightened her bra. As she paused behind the closed door, she suppressed a snicker. Glanced at her reflection in the mirror and thought of the expression that would soon grace Phoebe Green's face. She choked back a laugh as she opened the door. This was about to be extremely funny.

As Phoebe Green trailed wet slippery kisses across his chest with an almost religious obsession, David turned an unusual shade of grey as he heard a familiar voice call his name.

"Mulder?"

His head jerked up and his jaw dropped. Beside him, Phoebe stifled a gasp and pulled away in shock. In front of them both, leaning around the bathroom door, stood Gillian Anderson, complete in black bra, panties and stockings. Her red hair curled lazily to her shoulders as she smiled at them both in amusement. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Oh my God!" Duchovny managed. "Scully, is that you?"

"In the flesh," Gillian replied, smiling. "You want to touch me to make sure I'm real?"

Phoebe grabbed her blouse and yanked it on, glaring at David. "Something going on between you and your partner I should know about?"

"We have sex once a day," Gillian smiled and sauntered sexily forward to sit on the end of the bed.

David shook his head, looking at Gillian in amazement. "When we're working - off duty's a different story, right Agent Scully?"

One hand slowly ran along his leg, "A very different story Agent Mulder."

"Oooh!" Phoebe stamped her foot in anger and went for the door, scurrying to gather up her blouse and shoes. She stopped to twist back and glare at them.

"Oh, goodbye." Gillian said, the edge of a smirk on her face. The door slammed.

David looked at Gillian. Gillian looked at David, then smiled. "You seem shocked."

He let his eyes rove over her again and shook his head grinning, "And the press labels me a sex addict. Go and get dressed Gill."

---------------------------

 Four Seasons Hotel
Los Angeles

Mulder and Scully arrived in the Lobby, looking pale and nervous. Both avoided eye contact with their executive producer, a gesture Chris found both disturbing and alarming. He called a limo and instructed the driver to take them to into the centre of Los Angeles, an area renowned for its' spectacular shopping boutiques.

"Gillian, I want you to find a nice dress for the Globes tomorrow night. Smaller than the 1995 dress and a little prettier than that *thing* you wore last year. Christ!, where did you find it anyhow? No wonder they called you the Geisha Girl from Hell."

Noting Scully's miserable expression, Mulder chose this precise moment to glare at him as the limo pulled to a stop outside a huge shopping mall. This Chris character was beginning to piss him off. He wouldn't be surprised if David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson were enjoying their little stint in an alternate universe if they had been working with *this* guy for three years.

After making arrangements for lunch, Mulder and Scully disappeared down the street, leaving Chris Carter staring after them suspiciously. Something was just not right here. Gillian and David seemed to be floating away, exchanging the kind of looks only ever exchanged while filming The X-Files. He frowned and turned to his fellow producers.

"You noticed anything *different* about David and Gillian recently?"

"Asides from the eighty-hour work schedule stress? No, not really." Glen replied.

Chris paced up and down the street, ignoring the odd looks from other people. "No, there's something very wrong here. Something is going on that they're not telling us about. Did you see the way David glared at me after I made that comment about Gillian's dress? He didn't care if I saw him or not. I swear, Glen, this situation is getting more disturbing by the second."

"Don't you think you're overreacting? I mean, so what if they're sleeping together? As long as it doesn't compromise their acting abilities, what's the problem? This relationship could add another dimension to the show."

"So you *do* believe they're having an affair?" Carter gave him a suspicious look.

Glen Morgan shook his head. "That's exactly the point. When you hear hoofbeats, think of horses, not zebras. I think we should give them the benefit of the doubt. We all know how hard it's been for Gillian lately. I wouldn't blame her if she went into his room to talk. Just because Gillian was asleep in his bed doesn't mean they had sex."

"And that's something else," Jim Wong spoke up. "What is so wrong with them sleeping together? Gillian is legally separated from Clyde, David is a very happy, single man."

Chris scowled at them both. "No…it's more than that. If it is a an affair we'll deal with it." He rubbed a hand across his face and frowned. "...whatever's bothering them goes deeper than that. And I plan to find out what it is."

----------------------------

Once away from Carter Fox and Dana allowed themselves to relax - slightly.

One thing they'd learnt from this morning's incident - Anderson and Duchovny were not a couple and it would not do to let people perceive them that way. By unspoken agreement they kept some distance between themselves. Both failed to realise how in tune they were with each other. Chris Carter had noticed this and was puzzled, others did and smiled. As they strolled casually past exclusive boutiques they moved in perfect unison.

But this was Beverly Hills and celebrities were a dime a dozen, so all they got were a few whispered mutterings, the odd raised eyebrow, and from the cynical, a search for the cameras. A few tourists thrilled at the sight but were too scared to approach. Mulder and Scully were oblivious to the glances.

"Gillian? David? A rich English accent rang from behind.

Mulder and Scully froze at the sound of that voice.

<Phoebe?>

<Phoebe Green?>

<Can't be..>

Agents Scully and Mulder turned slowly.

The woman they recognised as Phoebe Green waved and hurried towards them.

Scully looked at Mulder. He looked back.

<Play it cool>

Striding quickly Amanda Pays enveloped first Scully then Mulder in fierce hugs.

"How are you?" She stepped back a pace, "You both look great!

Mulder looked at Scully. She looked back.

"I'm fine." said Scully

"Peachy." said Mulder.

"You down here for the Golden Globes? What are you doing here?

"Sc...Gillian's looking for a dress. I offered to help.....don't want to clash." Mulder shrugged his shoulders, <What the fuck am I saying>.

Amanda smiled and patted him on the arm. "Still working on the comedy act David? Just don't wear that white suit again."

She turned her attention to Scully. "And how are you? How's Piper?"

"aahh...Piper's fine."

"That's good. She's such a darling kid. How old is she now? Must be getting onto 3."

"Yeah, about that." answered Scully mentally crossing her fingers and hoping she got it right.

"I thought so. She's not with you?"

"...er No."

"Ah! She's with her father." The woman who was not Phoebe took Scully's hand and squeezed it gently. "I was sorry to hear you and Clyde." She shrugged, "These things happen - this isn't the easiest business to be in when you have a family. If you want a shoulder to cry on or just want to talk....."

"Thanks...everyone has been very supportive." Scully crossed her toes this time.

"Good." Amanda looked at Mulder. "Make sure you keep an eye on her."

"Keeping an eye on Gillian is one of the perks of the job," replied Mulder lightly and with absolute sincerity.

Amanda laughed. "Hey - has Chris mentioned anything about bringing back Phoebe? God! You would not believe the reaction I've had over that role - even now! We were in London last month. I popped into a newsagent for a paper and this bloody little shopgirl refused to serve me! Kept muttering dark things about coming between Mulder and Scully. God! I love playing a bitch!!"

Dana and Fox couldn't help but laugh. Who ever this woman was she was definitely not like Inspector Green.

"Amanda!" All three looked up as a tall man with thinning blond hair approached. "I was looking for you. Hi David." He reached for Mulder's hand and shook it. "Gill - beautiful as ever." He kissed her cheek. "Nervous about the awards? He asked both.

"A little," said Mulder.

The man mock feigned a shiver. "Tell me about it. I hate those things. Hey, You and Tony Edwards still have that bet going?"

"As far as I know." Mulder mentally crossed his fingers.

"I was talking to him the other day and he swears this time you'll get it. You deserve it - really. You've done some great work this season. Both of you."

The woman they know knew was named Amanda swatted him gently on the shoulder.

"My softie husband here nearly bawled his eyes out watching that episode about past lives."

Rubbing his shoulder the man protested. "I did not!"

"Corbin! You were scrambling for tissues 2 minutes into that bit with Mulder's hypnosis."

"It was sinus." He turned to Mulder and Scully again. "We've gotta go - gotta pick up the kids. Best of luck - both of you." He gave them each a quick hug and grabbed his wife's hand. They waved goodbye - Amanda blowing each a kiss. Within seconds they disappeared into the crowd.

A long moment of silence followed. Finally Mulder looked down at his partner, "Mom?"

Scully blushed. "That explains this." She dug into her handbag and withdrew a wallet. Flipping it open she handed it to him.

Secure beneath plastic was a photo of a small girl, stuffed toy gripped firmly in hand, the T-shirt she wore reading 'The Tooth is Out There'. She looked like Scully.

Mulder looked from the photograph to the woman standing before him. "She's beautiful. Like her mother."

Dana hastily took the wallet from him and stuffed it in her bag. "She's Gillian's daughter," she said with more regret than she intended. Scully tried not to think about the hazel eyed baby she sometimes dreamed about.

"I found the wallet while I was getting dressed earlier.....If what Amanda said is correct - and going by what Chris and everyone is saying I'd say Gillian is recently separated from Piper's father."

"Who is named Clyde," added Mulder.

"So what do we do now?"

"Nothing - we just add the information to our profile of Anderson."

Mulder glanced around the street, noticing for the first time the curious looks from passers by. All his paranoid instincts lit up. He disliked being watched at anytime - and he particularly disliked it when the people watching him probably knew more about who he was supposed to be than he did. They were too exposed out here on the street. Placing a hand to her shoulder he steered her towards the nearest shop.

"Where are we going?"

"To do what Chris expects us to do - shop." He held open the door for her. "You really going to knock back the chance to spend a large amount of someone else's money?"

********************************************

Gillian rolled off the edge of the bed and picked up his shirt, tossing it in his face. "Take your own advice loverboy." She returned to the bathroom and closed the door.

David stood and donned his shirt. Tucking it in his pants he walked to the door and called to her.

"Thanks Gill - don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up."

"I know exactly what you would have done and so do you. Ever heard the expression 'Just Say No'?"

David grinned, "I tried that - she wasn't listening."

Gillian came out of the bathroom dressed as Scully once more. "You could have tried telling yourself that she was someone else's wife."

"I tried that too - it didn't work either. That woman was not Amanda Pays - that was a tiger in female form. She attacked the moment we got in the elevator."

"What's wrong - couldn't take it?"

David was smug. "Take it and dish it out. I didn't want to compromise Mulder's reputation...though he has gone up in my estimation."

Gillian cocked a Scully-like eyebrow. "Why's that?"

David grinned, "You saw - a woman like that would not be interested in a wimp."

"If I remember the script properly, it was his mind she liked screwing with."

"In that case she really needs to brush up on her anatomy."

Gillian strolled to the balcony door and gazed out thoughtfully, "I wonder if they really did...you know... on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's tomb?"

David laughed, "They'd have to have pretty damn acrobatic."

Gillian turned and looked the question.

Still grinning David replied. "Conan Doyle's grave is marked by a Celtic-style stone cross."

"Really?"

"Really."

Gillian giggled at the thought, "I wonder how many fans picked up on that one?"

"Knowing what our fans are like - probably every last one."

Gillian sat on the edge of the bed. "What you were saying earlier.....about compromising Mulder's reputation....do you think Phoebe will say anything?"

Duchovny thought about the woman they'd just met and about the character as Chris Carter had written her. One would have been and one was, very pissed off. Inspector Green was probably spreading innuendo and gossip right now. He said as much.

"So now what?"

He shrugged, "Stay here and hide out for the rest of the conference?"

"You were the one who said we'd be safe here - that there was little chance of running into anyone who actually knew Mulder and Scully."

"So I made a mistake - it has been know to happen."

"And Chris and Darin are never going to let you forget it," said Gillian cheekily.

"Very funny." He shook his head and grabbed his jacket , slipping it on. "No...waiting here will only add to fuel to anything Phoebe says.." He took her hand and pulled her towards the door, "Come on - I promised you a coffee."

They paid little notice to the whispers and looks that followed them as they exited the elevator - in their line of business one got used to being recognised, whether you liked it or not. Admittedly the situation was different this time - either because of some story Phoebe Green was spreading or simply because they were Mulder and Scully.

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully..."

Both froze. They exchanged looks. <Who is it this *time*?>

They turned to see a tall, heavy set man hurrying towards them, a briefcase gripped in one hand.

<Do you know him?>

David shook his head <No>

"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." He shuffled the briefcase under his arm as reached to shake their hands. "Dale Snipes - Portland P.D. You probably don't remember me Agent Mulder - I attended a course at Quantico about 6 years back. You gave a lecture on profiling - mighty impressive."

"Ah...yes." said David, improvising.

Snipes went on. "Look...I know this is kind of a vacation but when I found out you - and you too Dr Scully - were going to be here....well, we've got this case....I was wondering if you'd take a look. It's kinda...well you have a reputation for these kind of cases."

David barely held back the shudder, "Serial murder?"

Snips shook his head, "Abduction and rape ...but her story's a bit...well...spooky."

David didn't blink an eyelid. <Uh...oh>

----------------------------

Gillian avoided eye contact with David as she pulled her coat around her, struggling to keep up with Detective Snipes as he strode across the wet pavement, guiding them both to his car. It was amazing the way the clouds had darkened so quickly, plunging them into a thunderstorm with a sky almost as black as night.

"What kind of case is it?" David asked, settling himself beside Gillian in the backseat as Snipes turned on the heat and started the engine.

"A seventeen year old girl was found two days ago, unconscious, in a side street downtown. We took her to County General and her doctors are saying it looks as though she was raped. But she's claiming the last thing she remembers, after leaving a friend's house that night, is a bright light in the sky. ."

David stifled a snort. "So where are we going now?"

Detective Snipes didn't answer as he turned into a dark alley and cut the engine. The car was suddenly enveloped in darkness and, after several moments of silence, David felt Gillian's hand grasp his forearm.

"David?" she whispered.

"Gill?" he whispered back.

"Uh, what is going on here?"

David cleared his throat. "Detective Snipes?"

He could hear the smirk in the man's voice. "Yes, Agent Mulder?"

"I thought you were taking us to take a look at your case."

"Those were my instructions."

Gillian sucked in her breath and squeezed David's arm. "Your instructions?"

"Yes, Agent Scully. My instructions, indeed."

Det. Snipes reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. David and Gillian simultaneously winced as he pulled back the bolt and turned around to glare at them. "Get out."

David glanced at Gillian and she nodded slightly. He opened the door and stepped onto the pavement, Gillian crawling out to stand beside him. Neither let go of the other's hand as Snipes cocked his gun at them and pointed to a seemingly-deserted warehouse across the street.

"Okay, let's move. Either of you tries anything stupid and I shoot your partner."

David silently followed the man across the pavement, painfully conscious of the fact Gillian's grip on his hand was growing stronger every second. He could tell exactly what she was thinking and looked at her sympathetically. He wasn't going to let on how worried he was - at least not in front of Snipes.

Snipes held the door open for them both as they stepped inside, sticking a foot out to trip Gillian as she walked past. David caught her elbow and glared at Snipes as the door closed behind them. David heard it lock and gulped quietly to himself.

Snipes spoke, hugging himself from the cold inside the room. "Sir?"

A voice came from the shadows. "You have them?"

"Those were my instructions."

A lighter suddenly glowed in the darkness. "Congratulations, Agent Snipes. You did well."

And Gillian Anderson felt her blood run cold as the sickly-sweet odour of cigarette smoke poisoned the air. They shared one glance - and that was enough.

< Oh my God... >

--------------------------

Mulder smiled at the shop assistant uncomfortably as Scully entered the dressing room carrying another armload of dresses. He swallowed hard and leaned closer to the door.

"Scully?"

"Hmmmm?"

"How long are you planning on being here?"

He felt certain he heard a giggle in her voice. "As long as I need to be."

"Scullleeee...this is a women's clothing store. I don't belong out here."

"What, you wanna come in here?"

Mulder snickered. "You need any help?"

She opened the door and stood in front of him, arms spread wide and a slight smile on her lips.

Mulder's jaw dropped and he felt his face turn warm as Scully twirled in a circle in front of him. "You like it?"

He managed a gurgle. "Where's your bra?"

Scully crossed her arms over her chest defensively. "The dress speaks for itself, Mulder."

"Sure does."

She glared at him. "It's been ages since I've shopped for a party dress before, Mulder. I need advice. What are you thinking as I stand in front of you wearing this dress?"

Mulder opened his mouth then closed it. "Uh, that you look beautiful, Scully."

She looked at him, surprised, and smiled. "Thank you, Mulder."

Scully returned to the change room and removed the dress.

She folded the dress carefully over one arm and headed for the counter. As they were paying for it, Scully's eyes widened as she heard a gasp behind her. She turned around to find two young girls staring at her, eyes huge with amazement.

She stepped lightly on Mulder's foot. "David."

"Yeah?" Mulder glanced at her, then at the two girls. He flashed them a smile and they grinned back, eyes slightly glassy.

Scully cleared her throat. "Can we help you?"

The girl with long brunette hair gave a breathy giggle. "I was, uh, we were, wondering if you would, if you could, autograph this for us?"

Scully took a breath and glanced at Mulder. He nodded. "Sure."

Both girls' faces immediately lit up and the brunette dug into her bag for a magazine. Pulling it out, she handed it to Scully as Mulder turned to accept the packaged dress from the shop assistant. Scully found a pen inside Gillian's purse and, hand poised to sign, took a good look at the cover of the magazine.

< 1995 Rolling Stone Yearbook >

She gasped. "Mulder!"

Babbling excitedly the young girl missed Scully's startled yip.

"I've got the US issue, of course. But this is the Australian one. The original."

Scully wasn't listening. She stared at the magazine cover. At the picture. Mulder and herself, arms wrapped around each other.

In a bed.

Bare chested.

Dana swallowed and looked nervously over her shoulder at her partner. He was staring at the picture. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.

She looked down at the magazine.

Like she always did when confronted with something unexpected she went in to clinical mode, noting the positioning of bodies <close...very close>, folds of the sheets, the date on the cover, the colour of the woman's hair <must be dyed....my hair isn't *that* red>, the muscular possessiveness of Mulder's arms ......<Get a grip Dana. That is not you and Mulder. It's David and Gillian. It's a publicity photo.> she told herself, ignoring the other little voice that was telling her how well they seemed to fit together (like you and Mulder would).

<shut up!>.

Realising the girls were watching she hastily scrawled the name Gillian Anderson on the page. "Ah...um....do you normally carry it around with you?"

The young brunette giggled, "No - I only just got it. An e-pal in Sydney finally tracked down a copy for me. Swapped a couple of Entertainment Weeklys and a TV-Guide for it....you know the one with you and David on the cover...and you're wearing that green dress?"

"oh...yeah that one." She held the magazine and pen out to Mulder.

Mulder was incapable of thought. No, that was a lie - he was thinking a lot of things. He just didn't feel any of them were appropriate at the moment.

He stared down at the magazine in Scully's hands. The observer in him noted closeness of the couple's bodies, the soft curls of the woman's hair, the glimpsed curve of her breast....<Get a grip Mulder. That isn't Scully and it's not you.>

Like he always did when confronted with the unexpected he made a joke.

"One of your better hair days Gill." Placing the dress box on the counter he took the magazine and pen from her and scribbled the name David Duchovny on it - making sure he spelled the surname correctly.

Grateful for the opportunity to say something - anything, Scully elbowed him in the ribs. "Certainly wasn't one of yours."

For some reason the two teenagers found this very funny.

Mulder held the magazine out to the girl.

"Ah...David....do you think you could write 'To Cheryl love David'? That's Sheryl with an S.....like Sheryl Crow." asked the girl.

With a smile he quickly added the words and handed the magazine back to her. She gazed at the cover for a moment and then carefully tucked it back in her bag.

"You're going to win tomorrow night, both of you. I just know it." said Sheryl.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence." smiled Scully.

"....if it's not a secret....who are you going to the show with?....I mean now that....you and Clyde have...." asked the blonde shyly.

"Jenny!? You can't ask that!" Sheryl slapped her friends arm.

<Jeeuz...that Clyde thing again...> Scully was trying to come up a suitable response when Mulder placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It's OK. I'll be escorting Gillian."

As soon as he said it Mulder knew it was true - if they had to do this he wanted Scully as close to his side as possible.

The girls looked at each other. "Cool."

Sheryl and Jenny, realising their brush with fame was over started to back off.

"Thanks for the autographs - everyone at school will just die when they see it."

The blonde eyed her friend jealously.

"Hold it a second." Mulder looked for something to write on. The shop assistant, who had been watching the whole scene with amusement, held out her sales pad. He scrawled a few words before handing it to Scully.

Scully took the pad, smiling as she read his words - "Sold to the lovely Jenny.... David Duchovny'. She added Gillian's name and tore the page and it's carbon from the pad, handing them to the young blonde.

Jenny read it, a railway track of orthodontic work showing as she smiled.

"Thanks..." She grabbed her friend's arm and dragged her away. "....what does it say?"

"Later....when we get outside..."

Mulder handed the pad back to the sales assistant.

"Thank you."

"That was a very nice thing to do," she said.

With a one of his boyish smiles he shrugged, " It seemed only fair." Retrieving the box from the counter he ushered Scully away.

The shop assistant watched them walk away. < To hell with aerobics class>, tonight she was going rent Red Shoe Diaries again.

--------------------------

 Portland, Oregon.
A deserted warehouse.

A figure moved slowly out of the shadows.

Gillian remembered that someone once described the man before them as the personification of evil.

She wondered curiously if she looked as different from Scully as Cancer Man did from Bill Davis.

David eyed the man warily. A line of dialogue came to mind. 'Evil returns as evil.' He took a half step, placing him in front of Gillian. He really had no idea what he was doing but it seemed like the right idea.

David really wished he hadn't left Mulder's gun in the hotel room.

"How touching Agent Mulder. Trying to protect your little partner."

"What do you want?"

"Just to talk Agent Mulder - nothing more."

"What could we possibly have to talk about."

The Smoking Man dragged slowly on his cigarette before replying. "Lots of things Fox....your work, your parents...." He paused, "...your sister."

<Jeeuz....the sister thing again.>. Duchovny was getting weary of this role.

Standing behind David Gillian bristled. She hated it when people referred to Scully that way. Dana was supposed to be an equal partner, < Damnit - forget Scully - *I'm* supposed to be on equal billing with David. Just because he was in Twin Peaks and that Brad Pitt thing....> She nearly stumbled when David stepped forwards suddenly.

"Samantha? Who cares!"

The one known as Cancer Man faltered as he lifted the cigarette. <Who cares??? That's not right.> He covered his confusion quickly.

"You don't want to know where she is?"

Gillian positioned herself next to David, an eyebrow raised in question.

<What are you doing?>

David still wasn't sure, but he'd taken in Cancer Man's reaction - a kernel of improvisation was forming.

<Follow my lead.>

Snipes raised his gun again as David moved. Raising his hands Duchovny protested, "Don't worry...I'm not going to do anything." Finding a comfortable spot against the wall he leaned back, arms folded.

"Sure I want to know. It's my life's work isn't it? Except for saving Scully of course." He smiled over at his co-star.

Gillian smiled back, "I thought it was me saving you." She wasn't certain, but she was fairly sure she knew what David was up to.

"I think the current ratio is even," replied David. He turned his attention back to the CSM.

"As for Sam...well, even if you do know you're not going to tell me the truth are you?" He looked to Gillian, "What are the top three theories again?"

"mmm..let me think. a) Your memories are correct and she was abducted by aliens. b) Cancer Man and his buddies kidnapped her to prevent your father from blabbing about genetic experiments, or....and this is my favourite.... she was nabbed by a psycho killer and everything you remember is the product of your insanity."

David grinned, "You would like that one."

Cancer Man looked from agent to agent. Something very odd was going on here. He ground out his cigarette and dug out the packet...another was definitely needed.

Ignoring the gun Snipes trained on her Gillian strolled forward and took the packet of Morleys and cigarette lighter from him. Digging one from the packet she placed it between her lips and lit up.

Blowing the smoke out in a perfect circle she tilted her head to one side.

"...mmmm...I prefer something milder." She looked at the gold engraved lighter.

"Hey Mulder - it says 'Trust No One.'"

Duchovny fought back the urge to giggle.

The Cancer Man scowled at them: "Just what the hell is going on here?"

Gillian turned to him and smiled, giving David a meaningful look as she slowly circled the older man, his black eyes following her suspiciously. "Something cosmic."

Impulsively, she threw her arms around his neck and grinned, watching as David - Snipes' attention momentarily fixed on Gillian's pouting lips - immediately barrelled, head-first, into the man. The gun fell from his hand as he was knocked backwards, a groan escaping his lips as David applied the heavy weight of his kneecap to Snipes' southern regions. Grabbing his crotch, he moaned in agony.

"Aughhhh! Bastard!"

David, rubbing his injured elbow, snickered loudly.

Gillian twisted herself from the Cancer Man's grasp and reached for the gun, falling across the floor and straining desperately. Her fingers closed around the trigger as he growled behind her, gasping for breath as David kicked him in the back. He fell to the ground beside Snipes as the younger man rolled over in pain. Gillian got to her feet and stood next to David, breathing hard, a smile touching her lips.

"Could this be the perfect opportunity for revenge?" David asked, watching as the Cancer Man searched in vain for his packet of Morley's. He caught David staring and gave him the evil eye.

Gillian closed her eyes as her finger tightened on the trigger. She felt herself turning - morphing - into Scully and her forehead broke into a sweat. She scowled and glared at their prisoners. "Damn right it could be."

< Your time is over...and you leave with nothing >

< Cancer Man! He's responsible for what happened to Scully! >

< Maybe we bury the dead alive >

Her throat tightened and she gripped the gun. "You're right, David. It's payback time."

From his ungallant position on the floor, the Cancer Man look up, surprised. He stopped trying to light a cigarette with his shattered lighter and listened intently.

David's eyes widened. "No, Gill! You can't!"

"Who the fuck is Gill?" asked the Cancer Man, interested, gaining for his efforts a swift kick between the shoulders. He stifled another retort and kept silent.

"Why the hell not?"

"Whatever we do here is automatically going to affect Mulder and Scully! They'll never find the truth unless The Cancer Man is alive!"

< And that's why I'll win >

"No, David. They're pawns, don't you see? Every time Chris produces a script, they're in deep trouble. Whenever Glen and Jim submit a story idea, Mulder and Scully are thrown into yet another psychologically-challenging X-File. Whenever Howard or Vince sit down at their laptops, Mulder and Scully should...be afraid. Be very afraid. And when John Shiban writes a script - "

" - X-Phile Romantics begin burning their crosses and Chris wishes he'd put more thought into the selection of his writing staff."

The Smoking Man frowned and chewed the unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. This sounded serious. < Burning their crosses? >

Gillian gave him a shaky smile. "As long as we're here, we might as well inflict some damage."

"Gillian, we have no idea what we're dealing with here. We never have! All I know is that we need to get out of here fast. Change hotels, I don't care. I think something terrible is going to happen. And it's going to happen so quickly we may never have a chance to save ourselves."

"The Bills will win a Superbowl?" the Cancerman asked anxiously, feeling his chest tighten with horror. He coughed and clutched his lighter.

Gillian let the gun fall to the floor and pressed her lips together nervously. "What - what do you mean?"

"I don't know, but Gill - we *have* to get out here. Come on." He grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the door.

"Excuse me! Excuse me, could I say something?"

David and Gillian looked back at the man hesitantly. "What?"

"Who *are* you?"

Gillian smiled at him and glanced at David. He nodded.

< Sometimes the need to mess with their heads - >

< Outweighs the millstone of humiliation? >

"I'm an actress." Gillian replied gently, digging in her pocket for a pen, watching the man's face light up with admiration as he struggled with a piece of paper retrieved from his jacket.

The Cancer Man shook his head blearily, gazing at them helplessly as his eyes slowly narrowed in anger. "You know, this is insane. How can you be an actress when you're - "

"I know," Gillian said, scribbling her name on the paper and handing it to him, exchanging a look with David as they left the warehouse.

Seconds after Detective Snipes' car sped away, Gillian Anderson behind the wheel, a solitary gunshot echoed through the dark warehouse. As the gloom parted, a man stepped from within the doors, shaking his head, a lit cigarette between his teeth. As he watched the car fade into the darkness of late afternoon, he chuckled and tucked the packet of Morley's into his jacket. Then, gently fingering his precious piece of paper, he disappeared into the mist.

********************************************

"Oh, that poor man. Did you see the look on his face when you handed him your autograph? He looked like he was going to faint! Do you suppose we did the right thing in confessing to someone that -- " David faltered and looked perplexed.

"We are not who we are?" Gillian quipped.

David sighed and managed a tired grin. "Look, I think I'm getting an idea on how to end this thing. What I think we should do is get out of this place and find somewhere to stay - preferably close to the airport. We may need to make a run for it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll explain later. Right now, let's get out of here and go get some lunch. I'm paying."

"Don't you mean *Mulder's* paying?" Gillian rolled her eyes and got to her feet, heading for the walk-in wardrobe.

"Just get packed quickly" David walked out the door, not bothering to wait for a reply.

Fortunately there was little to pack. Four years of traipsing around the countryside chasing after mutant killers, alien abductors, and Mulder had taught Scully to carry only the essentials. Within ten minutes Gillian had the bags filled and zippered and waiting. She sat down on the edge of the bed. Glancing down she groaned loudly. A large hole had appeared in her nylons just above her ankle. Yanking them off angrily, she tore them from her legs and reached for Scully's bags.

She leaned over and pulled the zipper, frowning as it caught on a small piece of fabric inside the lining. She pulled her tongue between her lower teeth and chewed with frustration. She was, in fact, so intent on opening Dana Scully's bag, that she didn't notice the door to the room swing open and a shadowy figure creep inside.

From nowhere a leather clad hand crossed her chest and up to cover her mouth. <David?> No....it wasn't him. After working closely with him over the last four years she knew his touch. There was something odd about the hand covering her face. Another hand came round. This one had a gun and pressed it closely to her ribs. <Definitely not David>.

For a long moment the only sound was the heavy breathing of the man standing behind her. He spoke.

"I'm going to let you go now Scully. But you make one false move and it's family reunion time."

The hands abruptly left her and she fell forward to the bed.

Gillian's eyes popped open in confusion and she whirled around, her jaw dropping open in shock as she recognised the man standing in front of her. She swallowed, choking slightly as he stepped forward.

"Oh my God..." Gillian's voice trembled and her eyes darted wildly, searching for an escape route.

He held out a hand and smiled. "No....just Krycek., Alex Krycek."

Gillian stared at the hand. Now she knew why it had felt so stiff against her mouth. <No arm. No test>.

Alex saw where she was looking and grinned evilly. "One more reason to payback Mulder."

At the mention of Mulder's name she looked frantically towards the connecting door. <Where was David?>

"Forget it sweetheart. I took care of Foxy."

<Took care of him.....omigod!> She started to rise from the bed.

Krycek used his foot to push her back on the bed.

"He's not dead....yet. But he will wish he was when I'm through."

"...uh...Why not kill him if you hate him that much?" <Keep him talking...distract him>.

"Because it's more fun to watch him suffer...and nothing makes him suffer more than something terrible happening to his precious Scully."

He shifted the gun to his prosthetic hand and leaned forward, reaching for the buttons of her blouse.

"Please. I've had a bad enough day." Gillian muttered, and shoved her hands forward. The sudden movement sending him backwards to the floor. Gillian scrambled to her feet and headed for the door. But Krycek snickered and grabbed her ankle. She gasped as she fell to the floor, her breasts hitting the carpet painfully. She rolled over and glared at him.

"Oh look." Krycek said, laughing. "Nice tattoo Scully." Still holding her ankle Krycek got his feet and dragged her back towards him.

Gillian gritted her teeth. "Asshole!"

She kicked him in the groin and he yelped, stumbling backwards and letting go of her leg. She got to her feet and rushed towards Mulder's door.

"Oooooh, you bitch." he groaned, and still massaging his groin lunged for her again.

"FREEZE!"

The slam of the door against the wall almost drowned out Duchovny's scream. Gillian only had a moment to register his arrival and look back at a livid Alex Krycek. Krycek had his gun raised and pointed at David. She could see his finger tightening on the trigger.

With every ounce strength she had, Gillian kicked out again, this time connecting with his knee. At the same time two explosions of gun fire rang out and Gillian dropped her head to the carpet covering it with her arms.

David dropped the gun and fell to his knees beside Gillian.

"Gill.....you okay? Gill!" His hands were all over her, touching, smoothing, looking for damage.

She lifted her head. "I'm fine." Seeing his skeptical look. "Really - just a little winded."

He helped her to her feet.

For the first time she noticed the trickle of blood on his forehead. "David! You're bleeding."

But he didn't seem to hear; looking over her shoulder and growing paler by the second. She followed his gaze to the figure of Alex Krycek slumped against the wall near the bed, blood staining his leather jacket.

"Do you think....I killed him?"

Realising David wasn't about to look Gillian stepped tentatively forward. As if he heard the movement Krycek moaned and slipped further down the carpet. But he did not open his eyes.

Gillian picked up Mulder's gun and trained it on the man.

"I don't think so. David - you were right - our stay in this hotel is more than over."

Nodding silently Duchovny hurried through to his room, returning moments later with Mulder's bags. He took the gun from her and held it on the man as she quickly circled the bed and grabbed her own bags.

Joining him at the door she looked back at the fallen enemy.

"Shouldn't we tie him up or something."

Krycek groaned and opened his eyes. Focusing on them malevolently he started to struggle up from the floor.

"Oh shit." David muttered under his breath, grabbing Gillian's arm as they both ran down the spacious hall towards the Fire Escape. Their feet pounded on the carpet as David threw the door open and they headed down the stairs.

Glancing over her shoulder, Gillian gulped as Krycek, lips tight face almost purple with anger and pain staggered out the doorway. He saw her.

From beyond the corridor corner an insistent voice rang out. "I heard gunshots I tell ya." The Fire exit door slammed shut.

----------------------------

 Atrium Lounge
1013 Production Office
Los Angeles

Scully forced down another mouthful of mushroom soup and groaned silently. Half an hour with these people was bad enough - she couldn't understand how David and Gillian made it through endless days of filming surrounded by such idiots. And they kept referring to episodes, something that scared the hell out of her. These people - controlled their lives. Every move Mulder and her made, at any given moment, was because of this ordinary-looking group of people writing words on a piece of paper. She shuddered as the door opened and Mulder came inside, a nervous smile on his face, clutching something in a paper bag.

"Gillian..." he said, motioning to her and she followed him, curious, out the door. She felt the eyes of Chris Carter and Co. on her back as they closed the door behind them, and swallowed.

"Mulder, I don't know how much longer I can take this. They *know* something's going on - I can feel them watching me! I'm becoming so paranoid I don't think I can sleep at night!"

He looked at her sympathetically. "I know, Scully. But look what I found."

He handed her the paper bag and she peeked inside. "You *found* this?"

"Yeah."

She pulled out a book - The Official Guide to The X-Files by Brian Lowry - and looked at Mulder suspiciously. "And just *where* did you find it?"

"At the back of Chris' office. It was sitting on a shelf near my tuxedo - Go on, read page 64."

Scully gave him a look of scepticism and straightened Gillian's glasses:

"Anderson's daughter, Piper, was delivered in September 1994 by caesarean section, which wasn't anticipated and required the actress to spend another six days in the hospital. Four days after that, she was back on The X-Files set, shooting scenes for the episode 'One Breath.' The plot had Scully, after her abduction and disappearance two episodes earlier in Ascension, - inexplicably turning up in a Washington Medical centre, lying comatose in a hospital gown as her father and mysterious nurse seek to coax her spirit (seen floating gently in a boat just offshore) back to the land of the living."

Scully swallowed, her face pallid. "What Gillian must have gone through - "

Mulder scowled. "What *you* went through! Who the hell came up with the idea to have you

fucking abducted? No doubt it was that Carter bastard..."

Scully shook her head slightly and walked back into the dining room, Mulder taking a seat beside her as she picked up her spoon and licked her lips.

Chris glanced at his watch. "Gill, you better hurry up with that soup. You don't want to be late for the photo shoot."

Mulder and Scully simultaneously. "Photo shoot?"

"Oh, Je-sus Christ, you didn't forget about it, did you? Not after I reminded you about it *countless* times back in Vancouver?"

Scully pushed her plate away and looked at Mulder. "What - what *kind* of photo shoot?"

"For US Magazine. And I heard through the grapevine it's gonna be a little kinky, so I'd be prepared for anything."

----------------------------

Scully shifted positions on the cold metal table and tried not to snicker as the photographer's assistant attached a tag around Mulder's toe. He bit his lip as he caught her expression, then lay back against the freezer, looking more than slightly annoyed.

"Scully?" he whispered, as the photographer loaded his camera.

"Yeah?"

"Are you - comfortable with this?"

"Mulder, why would I be? Just because we're both lying half-naked in a freezing morgue pretending to be characters in an alternate universe doesn't mean I can't find a way of enjoying myself."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"Thinking about tomorrow night - of you in your tuxedo. Me in my Armani. How nice it will be to finally slip out of our usual FBI personas and finally get a social life - even if it's only for one night."

"Slip out of our usual personas? You haven't had enough of that already?"

She gave him an embarrassed smile. "If only I could."

"And *speaking* of social lives, Agent Scully, I'll have you know I have one."

At that, Scully laughed so hard she almost fell off the table. Mulder looked hurt and tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. "You know, Scully, you're really pissing me off."

The small, balding photographer looked up at them with a smile. "Ah. We're ready?"

"As we'll ever be." Scully gathered some self-control, adjusting the sheet around her chest and gave Mulder a smile. He gazed at the camera and offered it a sleepy look, allowing his hair to fall across his forehead. Scully shot him a suspicious glance as the photographer's face broke into a wide smile of pleasure.

"Ah, Mr Duchovny, that is wonderful! Hold that look."

Mulder lowered his eyes in response and pouted. The camera clicked and the photographer grinned.

"Oh, that will send the girls running to the magazines, shall it not?" The man gave Scully a lecherous wink and she snorted.

"Ms Anderson, move a little closer to Mr Duchovny. Closer, lean towards him. Ah, that's a little better. Now, let's have a nice picture of you two together...gorgeous...straighten the sheet, Ms Anderson, and *smile*!"

Scully immediately scowled as the camera whirred and the man looked disgusted. "Gillian, please! When I tell you to smile I expect you to *smile*! Let's try that again."

Scully glared at him. Mulder caught sight of her face and almost shuddered. Scully was getting extremely pissed and, knowing her, that was not a good thing. To say the least. He pulled his sheet around his waist protectively and practised his look in a mirror on an opposite wall.

As the photographer reloaded his film, Scully noticed Mulder preening in the mirror and shot him a disgusted look.

"Okay, people, this is the last shot. Make it a good one."

Mulder immediately looked sleepy and propped one knee against the table, pouting slightly as Scully propped her head on one hand and glanced at the table sadly. At the last minute, she looked up at the camera with a lonely expression decorating her eyes.

The photographer forced a smile. "Gorgeous! Now, I'll be back in a moment, just lie back and... relax."

Scully sighed loudly and he glanced at her. "Ms Anderson, are you alright? You looked a little *stiff* in some of those shots."

Mulder cracked a grin at the man's joke and Scully closed her eyes. "I'm exhausted, that's all."

"Yeah, we're both *dead* tired," Mulder quipped.

When they were finally alone, Scully groaned and sat up, almost knocking Mulder aside as she climbed off the table - sheet wrapped firmly around her body - and headed towards the sectioned-off dressing area. Mulder also sat up and stretched his legs, watching as Scully slipped on her bra then pulled a dress over her head. He gulped and tried pulling the damn tag off his toe.

Scully emerged from behind the curtain a few moments later, dressed in a demure blue dress, and brushed her hair as her partner sauntered to the curtained area and proceeded to get dressed. He limped out - tag still attached to his toe - clothed in jeans and a sweatshirt.

Scully gazed at him and sighed deeply. "Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Tell me, truthfully, are you enjoying this?"

"You mean, did I enjoy wearing a dress, having you lick my face *and* take you shopping all in one day? I could get used to it. Hell, it sure beats our usual job."

"But, Mulder, have you thought ahead? What's going to happen when we get back to Vancouver and we're expected to act for eighteen hours a day? I can't do that! I'm a scientist, you're a psychologist, we're not actors, for God's sake! We both know how hard these last few days have been! And I can't take care of a baby, I can't - "

"You know, Scully, if it ever came to that, all we'd be doing is playing ourselves."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"At least we'd get the characterisation right." He grinned.

"Come on, Mulder, I want to leave. I'm getting too homesick in here."

Glancing around the dimly-lit morgue, Mulder held the door open for Scully as they left. Only when the heavy metal door shut with a bang did the four men creep from their hiding positions within the freezers.

Chris Carter, John Shiban, Frank Spotnitz and Vince Gilligan gathered around the tables Mulder and Scully had just occupied. All looked rattled, their faces slightly pale and John Shiban's hands were trembling.

All took a deep breath and looked at each other. Finally Chris Carter spoke.

"Well. That's one theory I never thought of."

John Shiban snickered. "Come on, Chris, what you're thinking is impossible. Obviously David and Gillian are going through some kind of dementia. You know, I read in The Enquirer that they were spotted back in Vancouver snorting cocaine and drinki - "

"You actually read that trash?" Frank Spotnitz interrupted.

Vince lowered his voice to whisper in Frank's ear. "After Tesos Dos Bichos, nothing about this guy surprises me."

John looked up at him, hurt. "I heard that."

Chris tried to smooth things over. "John. You were talking about dementia?"

"Yes. Examples of such can be found in - "

"El Mundo Gira?" Vince muttered.

"You shut up!" John cried. "Just because you wrote Pusher and all the Shippers love you doesn't mean you have the right to criticise my episodes!"

"And what gave you the right to blab about the kiss in Memento Mori?" Vince scowled deeply.

"Okay, okay." Chris interrupted. "I, for one, need a drink. What I think we should do is keep a close watch on David and Gillian in the coming days. And watch them closely tomorrow night. Because if they slip into their - he cleared his throat - *characters* onstage at the Golden Globes then..." he trailed off.

"God help us all." Frank supplied.

"Amen!" John added unhelpfully.

And with that, the four writers headed out the door in search of the nearest bar, slamming the door behind them.

********************************************

 The Great Northern Motel.
Portland, Oregon

Gillian Anderson rubbed her hair vigorously with the towel. Maybe if she rubbed her head hard enough she would wipe this entire day out of her mind. Playing Dana Scully was one thing. Living her life was something entirely different. This adventure was no longer fun.

A knock at the door....

Gillian dropped the towel and reached for the gun on the bedside table. She took up a stance beside the door feeling both terrified and ridiculous.

"Who is it?"

"Steven Spielberg."

Sighing with relief she released the lock on the door. "It's open."

David pushed open the door and entered, his hands laden with packages. He watched amused as she checked each way before closing the door behind him.

"What's in the bags?"

"The lunch I promised you." He put the bags down on the table and began removing cartons oozing a delicious Asian aroma.

"Did you get rid of the car?"

He nodded, "Dumped it about 8 blocks from here near a local mall. Made a great show of having locked the keys in the car and stormed off. From the looks some nearby kids were giving it and me I'd say it was gone before I'd walked half a block."

"Nice to know you can still count on some things. How's your head?"

"OK. The Tyrenol has reduced the headache to a dull throb. I'm lucky I have such a hard skull."

"No. I'm lucky you're so thick headed." She replied with a mixture of jest and truth.

David reached out and rubbed her arm reassuringly. "Hey, you really think I'd let anything happen to you?" His glance took in the jeans and shirt she was wearing. He gave her arm another pat and walked over to the bed, opening Mulder's bag.

"I'm going to take a quick shower and get into something a little less professional." Gathering up an armful of clothes he headed into the bathroom.

Gillian watched him go. Hard head, good luck or both. They had deduced that Krycek had been hiding in David's room. "Probably the shower recess - like when he killed Bill Mulder." suggested David. As soon as he'd seen his chance he'd snuck up behind Duchovny, hitting him with a lamp. "Either it was weak hit or that lamp was made of candy glass. I think hitting the floor knocked me out more." David had said.

Leaving the Hilton they had driven around Portland for nearly an hour before settling on this motel. For the moment they had no plans.

Gillian was savouring her way through moo soo pork when David returned. He dumped a pile of suit on the bed and joined her at the table, shifting through the cartons till he found something to his taste. He still looked pale, but the shower had helped ease the haunted look. Half a mile after leaving the hotel he'd suddenly pulled over and got out. For a moment she thought he was going to throw up, but after a few seconds he got back in and drove them away

She waited till he had gulped down a few mouthfuls before speaking. "Any bright ideas for what we'll do now?"

"Nodfung.." He swallowed the stir fry. "Nothing. We sit tight and hope to hell no one finds us."

"Why don't we just get the first plane out of here."

David shook his head. "We can't. We leave now and we risk the chance of ever getting back home - back to our reality."

"How? If we stay here Cancerman or Krycek might catch up with us. At least in DC we have Skinner and the Gunmen - they may be able to help us."

David shook his head again. "No. Too risky. I told you I had an idea." Reaching into one of the plastic carry bags and he pulled out a flight schedule. "I was thinking about what you said earlier about character rips and such. I did a little Mulder thinking and stopped by a travel agents on the way back, picked this up." He flipped through the pages. "This is the flight Mulder and Scully took here yesterday, and this is the one we got on in Vancouver."

Seeing her nod of agreement he turned to a map. "This is their flight." He traced the line with his finger, "And this is ours."

She saw immediately. The flight paths crossed.

"I also made a couple of calls to the airport. Allowing for crossing time lines - we would both have been in that exact place at the same time. And the same goes for the return flights. The only chance we have is to be on the right flight at the right time."

Gillian looked at him in disbelief. She understood what he was suggesting but it was so....Mulder.....so X-Files....so ridiculous. She said as much.

"David, that is ridiculous."

"Is it? Look where they cross."

She studied the map again, following the flight paths with her finger. Nevada. Desert. <Nevada Desert?>

"David - come on! Area 51? That's the kind of reasoning that has our fans running to their computers and screaming 'foul'. No one would believe a plot like that."

David became animated.

He stood up and paced the room, arms sweeping wide, "But that's the point. You said it yourself. We aren't dealing with X-philes - they don't exist here. This is Mulder and Scully's reality. Usual rules don't apply.

*This* is X-Files territory - you know what that means."

He looked so incredibly Mulderlike Gillian blinked.

"You don't go near the bathroom?"

David stopped his pacing and stared at her, flabbergasted. <Bathroom?> She looked so serious. He collapsed on the bed laughing. After a second Gillian too began to laugh.

The buzz of a cell phone.

David and Gillian froze and exchanged looks of terror. Leaning across the bed David retrieved the phone from the night stand. Gillian watched, an icy sliver of fear running down her back..

"Hello?" David was cautious. A familiar voice rumbled across the line. "Agent Mulder. Would you care to explain to me what the hell you and Agent Scully are up to?"

<oh shit. Skinner.>

-----------------------------

 Four Season Hotel
Los Angeles
11.21pm

Mulder tossed the book aside and glanced at the phone for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. He wanted to ring Scully and see how she was doing. But he wouldn't - he promised himself he wouldn't.

He knew what would happen if he did - either he'd end up in her room or she in his - and that would only complicate an already complicated situation. How far had he and Scully blotted Gillian and David's copybooks?

Carter was suspicious.

Mulder had seen the looks the man kept giving them. Was Chris worried about his actors? Did he suspect the truth? The man was smart enough to figure it out - after all he had created the series that was their life.

He looked down at the book on the bed. The one he managed to smuggle out the TenThirteen office. 'The Truth is Out There' - The Official Guide to the X-Files. He'd spent an amusing and unsettling hour or so reading through it.

Amusing, because of the errors to case details and personal history - he'd had fun making corrections in the book.

Unsettling, because of how eerily right so much of it was.

Mulder had briefly entertained the idea that Carter was some kind of dimension shifting alien who had somehow observed his and Scully's lives and was now translating them for the mass consumption of an alternate universe. He smiled and shook his head <no....too weird, even for me>. He still favoured the alternate universe idea but he doubted Chris Carter was the instigator.

At least he had some clues to Duchovny's past now ...and Gillian's. He glanced at the phone again. He really wished he could tell Scully what he'd learned.

A remnant of an earlier conversation filtered through his mind....something David's agent had said about one of his - Duchovny's - movies being on TV tonight? He picked up the TV guide and flipped through. <Ah! There it was.>

The Movie Channel.

11.30. 'Kalifornia'.

Starring Brad Pitt, Juliette Lewis, David Duchovny and Michelle Forbes.

That was another odd thing. He knew who Brad Pitt and Juliette Lewis were - he'd seen them in movies at home and the name Michelle Forbes was vaguely familiar, but he had never heard of this movie. He checked his watch. Three minutes to start time. He picked up the remote and turned on the television. <Might as well see what my alter ego acts like>.

-------------------------

Scully rolled over and reached for the bedside lamp. Try as she might she couldn't sleep. Sitting up in the bed she glanced at the phone. Contemplated calling Mulder. <No.....bad idea>.

If she spoke to him she would want to see him. Now more than ever before he was her salvation - the only link she had to her true identity. By unspoken agreement they stayed apart. Carter was suspicious - she saw the way he kept watching them. He or one of his minions was sure to be keeping an eye on them right now. She smiled and shook her head.

<Great! Now I sound as paranoid as Mulder>.

Resigning herself to wakefulness she got out of the bed. As she headed for the bathroom she picked up the remote control and pressed a button turning on the television.

A few minutes later, a can of soda in hand she crawled back into the bed and picked up a magazine from the nightstand. A cursory glance at the TV showed a rain swept street and a man and woman engaged in desperate chitchat. She started reading about the 10 exciting things she could do to disguise a bad hair day.

//I remember going on a school trip to the top of the Empire State Building. When I looked down at the crowds of people on the street...they looked like ants.

I pulled out a penny, we started talking about what would happen if I dropped it from up there and it landed on somebody's head.

Of course I never crossed that line and actually dropped the penny.

But I don't think Early Grace even knew that there was a line to cross.//

The soda can lay on the floor beside the bed, contents staining the carpet. Dana didn't notice.

---------------------------

Mulder splashed cold water on his face, rubbing it vigorously into his skin. He straightened up and looked at the image in the bathroom mirror.

It has been said you never really see yourself as others do. He'd laughed at reports of actors who refused to watch their own performances.

Now he understood.

He knew he was not David Duchovny - they looked alike, they sounded alike, they even had the same handwriting - but they were not the same person. And he was most definitely not Brian Kessler.

But he could have been.

Go back 10 - 12 years, change a few circumstances and he could be that naive young man.

<No.....Yes>

That was the rub - the part that disturbed him most. He had been Brian in many ways. The educated arrogance, the casual assumption of intellectual superiority.

//And the only thing I knew for certain was that people didn't kill each other in libraries'//

<Don't bet on it buddy>. One thing he had learnt from Bill Patterson. How predictably unpredictable a serial killer could be. Early Grace was a textbook example. He'd seen it within minutes. <But would you have - without the FBI training?>. Good question he told the little voice. Even with the psychology degree would you? Do you? Look how Phoebe Green suckered you. <That was personal, you ignored the signs>.

He leaned back against the sink and sighed. Yes, he conceded to the voice. I would have seen Early Grace for the man he was. Instinctively. With Phoebe, I let myself be fooled.

Mulder shook his head, chasing the thoughts from his mind. This private conversation was heading places he did not - would not go. He left the bathroom.

Grabbing a can of soda from the mini fridge he returned to the bed and flicked through the TV channels till he found a rerun of I Love Lucy. An episode he'd seen 500 times held his attention for 3 minutes. He couldn't chase the day from his mind. Waking up next to Scully, shopping, that magazine, the photo shoot.

<Jes-us, the photos> He'd seen more of Scully's flesh today than since their first case together. Unasked his memory replayed the movie he'd just seen. One scene stood out. A seedy motel room, a bed and a wall. <Thank God - I didn't get the chance to mention this movie to Scully>. In the privacy of his room Fox blushed. Again and again he saw it - only it was not Michelle Forbes who played Carrie. His Carrie was smaller, blue-eyed and red of hair.

The soda can sat ignored on the bedstand as Mulder took matters into his own hands.

---------------------------

Scully rubbed vigorously at the stain on the carpet. All she was succeeding in doing was spreading the mark. She sat back on her haunches and stared at the floor. <Why am I doing this?> The hotel has staff to take care of this - and it's not as if I'm paying. <Because you don't want to think about Mulder>. Feeling disgusted and frustrated with herself Dana stood up and took a few steps towards the bathroom and tossed the washcloth through the open door. Returning to the bed she crawled in and pulled the blankets over her knees.

//I remember going on a school trip to the Empire State Building....//

It had only taken her a few seconds to realise that it was not Mulder speaking. The eerie thing was how much it sounded like him - not the voice - the words. It was exactly the kind of thing she could imagine Mulder saying. Dana wondered briefly if the role of Brian Kessler had anything to do with Duchovny being cast as Fox Mulder. She pictured Mulder as Brian. The sideburns, the earrings...<Mulder in earrings!> No - it didn't work. She could not imagine Mulder talking chemical imbalances or being so condescending. Mulder treated everyone the same way, with intense sensitivity or cold insolence, but never patronisingly. He would have seen Early Grace for what he was. Her partner's passions and beliefs might blind him to a lot of things and his leaps of logic were outrageous but he knew a killer when he saw one. Still, a few times during the movie she felt herself blinking as she recognised a gesture or facial expression.

Scully sighed. It had been one weird day. <You should be used to weird>. Yes, she told the voice, but my days don't normally included autograph hunters, semi naked magazine covers, or posing for more pictures of the same. Dana grinned remembering the look on Mulder's face when the photographer told him to put a dress. And then there was the morgue. Like Mulder had said later 'Whose sick fantasy was that?' <Talking of fantasies...about that movie...> Shut up! She told the voice. She looked to the telephone. Damn Carter! She picked up the receiver and punched a number.

---------------------------

The phone rang, startling him. Breathing heavily he wiped his sweaty palms on the sheets beside him and picked it up, cleared his throat, and tried to forget what he had been about to do.

"Hello?"

"Mulder?"

Mulder tucked the phone to his chest for a moment and took in some more air.

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, Scully?"

"Are you in bed?"

He grinned, making himself comfortable under the covers. "Well, as a matter of fact... what's happening?"

"Nothing. Bored, depressed, couldn't sleep and tired of walking on eggshells."

He smiled. "What ya been doing?"

"Reading, watching TV" There was a pause. "A movie."

Mulder sighed. "You saw Kalifornia, eh?"

Scully's voice was awed, impressed. "Mulder. I've never seen that...*side* of you before."

"Very funny. What'd you think of David Duchovny's acting talents?"

"Monotonic, expressionless...reminded me of you."

"Dana Scully - drama critic. At least now you know he can play the role of Fox Mulder with conviction."

"It was odd at times. That scene in the textile warehouse where Brian is describing the crime - sounded a lot like something you would say. And at the end - when he's listening to the tapes - I kept expecting him to start picking at a pile of sunflower seeds."

Mulder laughed. "So did I."

He heard her sigh. "Scully?"

"Mulder, do you realise exactly how dangerous this situation has become? I mean, damnit, the Golden Globe Awards are tomorrow night. What am I supposed to say if Gillian wins? Who am I supposed to thank? What should I do?"

"You're going to wear that beautiful dress you bought this morning, hold my hand, smile a lot and be yourself.

She glanced at the beige dress hanging from her wardrobe door, decorated with a multitude of sequins and swallowed. The neckline was - well - low, to say the least. And it looked as though she'd be needing more than a Wonderbra to keep herself from falling out of the damn thing. Oh, why did she pick it?!?

<Because of Mulder's reaction>

She snickered remembering the stunned look on his face.

"Be myself? Mulder, please. I doubt a star-studded audience of Hollywood celebrities will want to hear about my new interpretation of Einstein's Twin Paradox."

He chuckled. "Then again, I could always enlighten them on the classic symptoms of an alien abduction. You have the notes Gillian made - just go by them. That's what I'm going to do."

"What? Read Gillian's speech?"

"Haha. No. Duchovny's. It least it makes some sense now."

"Oh.....find out anything interesting in that book?"

"Apart from the fact that practically every episode listed mirrors our cases - and this book only covers the first two seasons - yeah."

"Well?"

"This is not the first time Duchovny has played an FBI agent." He shuffled up a little straighter in bed and grinned. "You'll love this Scully. He once played a transvestite FBI agent in a series called Twin Peaks."

"A transvestite FBI agent!"

"J Edgar would be proud."

Scully chuckled, "I guess that explains the photographer's comment."

" 'Jeez Davy - it's not as if it something new'? Yeah - he had me worried there for a while."

He could hear her on the other end. She was making strange noises. It sounded suspiciously like....

"Scully! Are you giggling?!"

Dana let loose a laugh. It felt good to hear. "Sorry Mulder, I was just trying to imagine you as a woman. Not like today - that was a joke - I mean the full hair, nails, bra, and heels look."

Fox winced, "Pretty ugly, eh?"

"Oh...I don't know. You might pass.....in really low lit bars."

Mulder grinned, "Thank you Scully. Remind me not to come to you for an ego boost." He reached down and picked up the TV Guide.

"Hey Scully, You know the table beside your bed? Open the drawer and get out the TV Guide. As long as we're here we might as well see what kinda television is popular here."

Scully reached into the drawer and pulled out the magazine, flipping it open and casually

flicking through the pages. "Where are we? The X-Files that is?"

"Sundays. 9:00pm on FOX. "Don't you love that, Scully? They've even named the Broadcasting company - "

"Shut up, Mulder."

Scully thumbed through the pages. "Found it. That's one you showed me earlier.....mmm...a repeat? 'Jose Chung...'....Mulder, did you read the reviewer's comment? 'The X-Files spoof themselves in an satirical look at alien abductions.' Mulder?..."

He swallowed, "Turn to page twenty six."

"Page twenty six?" He could hear her turning the pages. "The gossip page?"

"Second column - half way down."

"Mulder!" Her voice was choked and Mulder bit his lip, preparing to launch into an in-depth

conversation of comfort and reassurance. But then his eyes fell on the magazine again and he turned

pale under his tan, the words instantly evaporating on his lips.

' Chris Carter and FOX have yet to name the X-Files episode scheduled to air after the Superbowl but leaks have suggested it will be the beginning of a startling new development in the life of Agent Dana Scully - a revelation that can be traced back to her abduction.'

********************************************

 The Great Northern Motel.
Portland, Oregon
8:00pm

"Agent Mulder?"

David swallowed and looked at Gillian helplessly: "Yes, sir?"

"What in God's name have you and Agent Scully been doing in the last couple of days? In the past two hours I've received a phone call from the Portland Police, saying that two people matching your description were seen leaving a warehouse downtown shortly before a shooting occurred. And after I got off the phone with *them*, the Director of your precious seminar called me and asked why the hell you both have left the hotel and didn't turn up for this evening's lecture! He also informed me of certain rumours concerning your conduct with Agent Scully."

"Hmmmmm..." David said, trying to sound intelligent as Gillian watched in amusement. Then she cringed as the AD began yelling again, forcing David to hold the phone from his ear and Gillian headed for the bathroom. Closing the door behind her, she snickered as David shot her an evil look in the mirror.

"**Agent Mulder?**"

"Yeah?"

Skinner's voice was cold: "Unless you come up with a logical excuse within the next ten seconds for your inappropriate behaviour during your time at the seminar, both you and Agent Scully can expect to begin receiving unemployment cheques in the mail as soon as you return to D.C!"

David knew he had two choices. Tell Skinner the truth and risk exposing their true identities, or lie.

"Well, sir, I was not aware of any warehouse shooting. Agent Scully had a severe headache this morning and we thought it best to stop by a drugstore on the way to lunch and pick up some medication. And it just so happens that the drugstore was across the street from the warehouse. So, uh, we were just leaving the store when I noticed two men acting suspiciously so we went across the street to investigate."

"Define suspicious Agent Mulder."

"One of the men appeared to be The Smoking Man. Sir"

There was a brief silence.

"And was it Agent Mulder?"

"We didn't find anyone and we left."

The AD sighed. "Against my better judgement, Agent Mulder, I'm going to believe you. *This* time. But, believe me, unless you and Agent Scully haul ass back to the seminar within the next two hours you'll be up against the Board of Professional Conduct when you get back to Washington. In all truthfulness, I've had it up to here with you and your recent cases, Agent Mulder. I mean, after that goatsucker thing..."

"I'm sorry Sir, that's not possible."

"Not possible? What, Agent Mulder, is not possible?"

"Returning to the hotel Sir."

David hoped he was playing the right choice this time. He really felt they would be safer away from the seminar. He glanced at the bathroom. <What is Gillian up to?>

Silence again. "Would this have anything to do with reports of gunshots in the vicinity of yours and Agent Scully's room?"

"It was Krycek Sir."

This time he heard the soft intake of breath, then Skinner grunted. "Agent Mulder, why is it that whenever you and Agent Scully attend *anything* together I end up regretting ever letting you go?"

"I'm not sure, sir," David replied, twirling the phone cord in his fingers and mentally rolling his eyes

< god forbid the golden globes - if they screw it up....>

"Mulder. I want you and Scully on the first plane to DC. Tonight."

"I don't think that would be a wise decision Sir."

"Agent Mulder from what you just told me both you and Scully are in danger. I'm not going to ask why you neglected to inform anyone about the presence of a man wanted for murder, conspiracy *and* treason - at least, not yet. I want you on that plane and in my office ASAP!"

Crossing his fingers David made his pitch. "That's what Krycek would expect. I think for safety's sake it is best Scully and I lay low for now and return as originally planned."

"Why do I get the feeling there's more to this than you're telling me Mulder?"

"Experience Sir?"

Skinner sighed, "Experience I could do without Mulder. I will call the Seminar director and make appropriate excuses. But I still want to see the pair of you the moment you return to the Bureau. With a full report."

The AD hung up.

"Sure, fine, whatever..." David said quickly, hanging up the phone, as Gillian walked out of the bathroom, her hair falling across her shoulders as she sat down on the bed and stretched her legs. David looked at her with a strange expression of contempt and sadness, taking a seat next to the window and gazing outside.

"Time's running out," Gillian said quietly, watching as her co-star of almost five years silently agreed.

"I know."

"Not only for us, but for them."

"Gill, I'm significantly more worried about our characters than I am about us. You remember that episode Leonard Betts? Sooner or later Special Agent Dana Scully is going to start bleeding and feeling as sick as hell. And, unless she's back in her own universe, everyone is going to believe *you're* sick. And what kind of repercussion is that going to have on us once we're back home?"

Gillian got to her feet, feeling pissed. "To HELL with that! What about my daughter?? She's all alone in Vancouver. She's probably crying her eyes out because Mommy didn't call."

"She is not alone Gillian. She has a father and grandparents who love her. I know you're worried but you're not the only one with family back there. I have family - you think I don't care? Fuck! Even Mulder and Scully have family - * here * Have you considered how you're going to deal with Maggie Scully if ..."

"You know, David, you're beginning to become as self-centred as that asshole of a character you play."

He looked surprised at that and took a tentative step backwards. "Come on, Gill..."

"Don't you *dare* call me that!" she yelled.

"Jesus, Gillian, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

She grabbed her purse from the table and talked towards the door and shooting him a furious glance. "Stay away from me, David. I think I *really* need some fresh air right now."

The door slammed and David slumped beside the bed, defeated.

------------------------------

Gillian tapped on the motel room door and rattled the doorknob once more. "David. It's me."

No answer. Gillian renewed her knocking. "David. Open up will ya. It's getting cold out here."

There was still no answer. She tried peering through the window but the blinds were closed.

<He's probably asleep...or sulking>.

Sighing wearily she headed to the motel office.

It took nearly 10 minutes to convince the spotty faced night clerk to let her into the room. First, he wouldn't believe she was a guest at the motel, and then she had to endure snide jokes and adolescent come ons. Finally it was Scully's ID that did the trick. One look at that official looking badge and he couldn't do enough for her. She wondered what he was trying to hide. <Probably dealing> She'd noticed the distinctive smell of pot the moment she entered the office.

Gillian watched the clerk scuttle off back to his hoard before opening the door.

The room was in darkness. She reached for the light switch and flipped it on, casting her gaze around the room. The remnants of their meal had been cleared away and a book - Mulder's journal -open on the table, pen beside it. The suits both she and David had worn were hanging neatly from the front of the bathroom door and their bags neatly stacked at the end of the beds. Mulder's ID, gun and cell phone still rested on the bedside table along with Scully's gun and phone. Everything looked neat and tidy and normal.

Except for the complete absence of David.

----------------------------

<Kill Chris Carter >

Duchovny had been thinking about it ever since he woke. Weighting the options, arguing the case for and against; but in the end there was no other choice. Chris Carter had to die.

He was to blame. For everything. His idea. His creations. His television show.

No jury in the land - - - No jury in two realities would convict him. <Your Honour - Yes I did kill Christopher Carter. But it was justifiable homicide. >

Everything that had happened to him in the last two days was Carter's fault. Everything that had happened to Mulder and Scully in the last four years was Carter's fault.

< Yes Siireee > thought Duchovny with a nod.

"Oww..." Moving his head was not a good idea. Moving anything was not a good idea. It only added to the body aches and fuzziness of mind. Thankfully motion was not much of an option.

David opened his eyes once more.

Ever since he'd woken he had been opening and closing his eyes on the vague notion that eventually it would all be revealed a dream. So far it wasn't working. He was still alone, still naked and still strapped to the table.

Truth was....he was scared. Not the terrified, quaking his boots, change of underwear kind of scared. Just very, very, very worried. Silly as it had sounded he believed his theory about the flights. If he didn't get out of here four people would be trapped in the wrong universe. < Let Gillian be safe >

He had no idea how long he'd been here. He wasn't even sure how he got here, or for that matter.... where *here* was. All he could see from his prone position was a blank grey ceiling and a soft diffusion of light from somewhere to his left.

<At least I'm not covered with chickenwire> That would really be the icing on this little adventure cake. Run-ins with the conspiracy boys, kidnapping *and* being experimented on. Of course...he could have been. He was damn sure he hadn't been nude when he answered the door.

The light brightened. A voice from behind.

"Who are you?"

---------------------------

 Four Seasons Hotel
Los Angeles
9:14am

Dana Scully picked nervously at her breakfast bun and avoided the eyes of those around her. Mulder had spent half the night trying to reassure her that it was probably nothing, that the teasers of FOX Broadcasting had a notorious opinion about them. Whatever they printed in magazines or showed on television rarely turned out the way they implied it would.

<So what does that mean, Mulder? What is going to happen to me?>

Do you even want to know? Is it better to know and to dread than -- >

< Than what? >

< Than to not know and wait in dreadful anticipation? >

"Gillian?"

She snapped out of her thoughts and twisted the napkin in her hands. "Yes?"

"We found out this morning who you'll be presenting with tonight..."

"*Presenting with*?"

Chris Carter shot a knowing look at his co-writers. "Yes, you'll be presenting the award for Best Comedy Ensemble with Patrick Stewart."

Mulder narrowed his eyes and whispered in her ear. "Damnit, Scully, how could you?"

"What?" she whispered back.

"Patrick Stewart!" Mulder scowled at her.

"Come on, Mulder, even in our world he's just an actor."

"Not just any actor, Scully - the Captain of the Enterprise!"

Chris watched them confer with interest. "Uh, David, Gillian...we have to be at the Beverly Hills Hilton by five, seated by seven. I've heard through the grapevine that our chances are good to take out Best Drama...if the clips are anything to go by. Bob, which one did we send in?"

Bob Goodwin frowned, looking up from his grapefruit. "Terma."

"ER sent in some shit 'bout Dr Benton stitching a liver, Party of Five ain't even worth *talking* about, Chicago Hope put in some clip about life-support and, hell, NYPD Blue...what were they thinking? Some crap about a homicide...I heard the Foreign Press members fell asleep halfway through the damn thing."

"Then again we also could have supplied some footage of Memento Mori." Vince Gilligan grinned and Scully looked up at Mulder, anxiety flooding her delicate features.

< Mulder? >

< Hmmmmm? >

< What does Memento Mori mean? >

< I'm sure it's insignificant>

Then suddenly, quite unexpectedly, his face changed. His jaw almost dropped and his cheeks paled, one hand reaching towards the napkin beside him, the other towards Scully's face.

"Oh jesus, Scully, you're..."

She looked up at him, bewildered, and finally became aware of the hot liquid streaming from her nose. Noticing Mulder's expression, Chris also looked up. When he saw the bright drops of blood staining her blouse he swallowed and looked anywhere but her frightened eyes.

< Oh my God, Mulder, what have they -- >

< I'm fine Mulder >

< You have something I need >

"C'mon, Dana, let's go clean up." Without realising what he was doing, Mulder grabbed her hand and led her towards the bathrooms, handing her a crumpled tissue from his jacket. Chris Carter, Frank Spotnitz, Vince Gilligan and John Shiban watched them leave, expressions ranging from horror to guilt softening their faces.

Frank finally shook his head, watching Mulder's retreating back with quiet admiration. He thought of the way Mulder had swiftly, silently left the table with his partner, leaving the rest of the crew with only their own speculations to ponder. He thought of Scully, her head held high as her blood stained her clothing, a stoic expression on her face, trying to ignore what was happening to her. Frank took another sip of tea, moistening his burning throat.

"She's cool, ain't she?" Frank said, breaking the anxious silence left by Mulder and Scully's departure.

"Yeah, but now her cool ass is sitting deep in boiling water..." Chris shook his head and signalled to the waiter for the check.

********************************************

 Portland, Oregon
Location unknown.

David swallowed at the familiar voice and tried to turn his head. Bad move. He groaned and the figure moved into his line of sight, the sickly-sweet stench of cigarettes clouding the air and causing David to cough. After he caught his breath, he blinked at the dark figure, clad in a black trenchcoat and gloves, and fixed him with his best glare.

"Who *are* you?" The question was repeated, tinged with annoyance.

"I'm Kato Kaelin, who the hell are you?"

"You know who I am."

The voice was low and ominous. "After our last encounter I was considering letting the matter drop, but I was intrigued by your companion's remarks - and by you. Same build, same height, same voice, same partner...but as I see now ..." He ran a chilled gloved finger across Duchovny's collar bone, "....missing".

David's mind went in 7 different directions - none of them pretty. Then it dawned. "Scully's shot. I don't have the scar."

The trenchcoated man nodded as he crushed his cigarette underfoot and took out another. "I think by now it's clear to us both that you're not Agent Mulder." From somewhere - nowhere - the Smoking Man hauled out a chair and sat.

"Who are you?"

The devil in David answered. "Your worst nightmare buddy."

The man's eyes clouded as a sharp flame lit the end of a cigarette and vanished. "Don't play games with me! The survival and whereabouts of Agent Mulder -- not to mention his clever little partner -- are essential to the survival of the project!"

"The Project - always the Project! Jeeuz - man! Get a life. The Project is over." Naked, strapped down and cold. Duchovny was determined to go down fighting.

The Smoking Man's eyes narrowed, "They haven't begun the next part of the project without consulting me first, have they? They aren't supposed to clone you or Agent Scully until AD Skinner resigns!"

"Yeah, that'd be sometime after the movie." David mumbled, shifting positions.

The man with the Morley stood suddenly.

"WHO ARE YOU?"

"I- I am an actor," David said quietly, apparently deciding that honesty was the best option in such a situation.

At this, the CSM's eyes opened wider and his lips twisted into a grin. He loosened the bonds securing him to the table.

Duchovny sat up, flexing and stretching the stiff muscles of his limbs. A shiver of chill air tinged his exposed flesh and he wrapped his arms across his chest for warmth. He froze as his hand encountered a small packing of gauze on his left arm. The early bravado fled as he looked from the bandage to the Cigarette man. The CSM took a moment to enjoy the terror in his victims eyes. Reaching under the medi-bed he pulled out a bundle of clothing and tossed them to Duchovny. "A simple blood and tissue sample."

David looked appreciative for a second, then quickly dressed.

"Most interesting" said the CSM, "If it wasn't for a ....few minor differences - minute really..... your DNA would be a match for Agent Mulder's." He studied the burning ember of his cigarette briefly.

"Who are you?"

Clothed and warmer David sat on the bed edge, nervous as the CSM took a deep drag of smoke and nodded at him to continue.

"My name is David Duchovny. My co-star, Gillian Anderson, and I play Special Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully on television. We are part of a television show called The X-Files, created by a man named Chris Carter in late 1993. A few days ago, Gillian and I were flying into Los Angeles for the weekend. In this universe, however, Agent Mulder and Agent Scully were flying here for a conference. Somehow, some way, our flights crossed and we were plummeted into our, uh, *characteristic* dimensions. Now Gillian and I have only a matter of hours to get home."

When the Smoking Man spoke, surprise was evident in his words. "That isn't possible."

"Considering the things I know you have seen, I expected you to consider this scenario rather plausible."

"How could *you* know what I have seen?" This time the words are venomous and tight, dripping with sarcasm.

"We did an episode about you early this season. Tentatively titled 'Musings of a Cigarette Smoking Man', we traced your life from your teenage years until the present day. Two of our most talented writers, Glen Morgan and Jim Wong, worked on the writing and directing of that episode. I mean, I know more about you than most of your family does. If you have any left, that is. Didn't you once mention to Agent Mulder that you have "no wife, no family...some power." I know you were part of JFK's assassination, and that you and Mulder's Deep Throat contact once flipped a coin to decide who would take the life of an extraterrestrial. But hasn't life always been like a box of chocolates?"

Suddenly, the beginnings of a smile touched the man's lips and he stubbed the cigarette out underneath one of his shoes. "And how did the, ah, viewers respond to this episode?"

Inwardly David smiled - as an actor he knew the value of ego and a sudden idea went from acorn to oak.

"You were portrayed as, essentially, a helpless character. They watched as you received letter after letter of refusal from publishers, as you handed out Christmas gifts and tugged at nicotine patches. I suspect that a degree of sympathy was established toward you...yet not forgetting the events of Herrenvolk, Anasazi and One Breath."

The eyebrows frowned. "One Breath?"

"Uh, just an episode." David replied quickly and got to his feet. He winced as a sharp pain rippled through his forehead and met the CSM's eyes. "I - I need to go now. If Gillian and I don't get back to our own universe by tonight, all hell could break loose. Mulder and Scully need to be back home before we shoot Small Potatoes or...my God, I don't even want to think about what could happen. And besides" < here comes the Emmy performance> he thought, "Bill Davis -- the terrific guy who plays you on our show -- is up for Best Supporting Actor in a Dramatic Series at the awards show we're attending this weekend. I'm sure you wouldn't want --"

The CSM slowly drew a gun from inside his trenchcoat and expelled a long breath of air. He pulled back the catch and watched as David Duchovny wet his lips nervously, swallowing then stepping in front of the him and placing his hand on the arm clutching the gun.

"You can kill me anytime." he said softly, feeling the tension slowly drain from the tight muscles of the CSM's forearm. "But not tonight."

The CSM closed his eyes and let his arm fall to his side as Duchovny backed away towards the door. Suddenly his eyes opened and his head jerked up, waiting as Duchovny paused at the locked door. He crossed the room slowly, twisted the key in the lock and heard it click. He placed a hand on David shoulder and spoke. "Mr Duchovny?"

"Yeah?"

"Perhaps when you and...Ms Anderson return home, you could do me a favour."

David hedged nervously. "Well, it all depends, I think Chris...what do you want?"

"A Peanut Butter Cup. A slab of English toffee." He pulled a thick bundle of papers from his coat and handed it to David. "I would sincerely appreciate it if you would give this to your executive producer. Your writers, your editors. If you would just read it and perhaps consider it for an episode, I would be very grateful. It isn't getting anywhere in New York, so if you could..." he trailed off and looked at Duchovny questioningly.

David nodded silently, taking the bundle of papers. "And if we air the episode?"

A smile creased the corners of his wrinkled mouth. "I'll know."

Hand on the door knob David looked back.

"Hey, Raul?"

CSM was startled at the name. "What?"

"I have to ask.....why is Mulder so important to the 'Project'?"

Dragging deeply on his Morley the CSM smiled sharkly. "Ask your boss."

David laughed and left the room.

Five minutes later he found the exit. As he slipped outside into the cold morning air, he caught sight of the title, neatly typed across the first page of the thick manuscript: GETHSEMANE.

----------------------------

 Four Seasons Hotel
Los Angeles
9:39am

"Shit! Shit, shit - damnit, Scully, tilt your head back."

Scully closed her eyes and she pressed a tissue to her nose, squeezing it lightly, trying to stem the increasing flow of blood. She shot an agitated look at her partner, who was pacing the floor of the Women's Bathrooms with a terrible anxiety. She stifled a groan and sat down on the hard plastic chair beside the sink, obediently leaning against the marble wall and watching as Mulder folded his arms and glared.

"Mulder, would you please try to calm down. It is *just* a nosebleed."

"Yeah right, Scully. I'm sure that's what Chris Carter and his team of writers are thinking out there, too. You remember what happened to us in the first episo - hell, when we went on our first case together in Oregon?"

"Yeah. Our plane almost crashed and we lost nine minutes."

"No, when we were talking to Theresa Nemman, the doctor's daughter? She was telling us about what they had done to Billy Miles when her nose started bleeding. You handed her some white, paper napkins and she was about to tell us more about the marks when her Dad and the Sheriff showed up."

Scully stared at him. "You really do have a photographic memory." she said.

"Naw, I read up about the pilot episode in The Official Guide the other night. I also found out that Duchovny was 'impressed by Anderson's grit as they filmed scene after scene in the freezing rain.'" He grinned. "You did a good job, Scully. You should be proud."

She looked at him tiredly and then back at her pale face in the mirror. "I want to go home."

"And that's exactly what we're going to do, Scully, I promise. As soon as these damn Golden Globes are over, we're going to be on the first plane outta here. I just hope David and Gillian get the same idea."

"What do you mean?"

"How did we get into this fucking mess in the first place? We were asleep on a plane in one reality as David and Gillian were asleep on a plane in *another* reality. Our flight paths crossed, and we were thrown into this thing with no warning whatsoever. We're booked to leave Los Angeles airport at midnight. Now, I called the airlines this morning and checked. Our flight....David and Gillian's flight.... leaves at the same time. Now we have just got to hope that they catch the flight *leaving* Portland airport to Washington at midnight tonight. One hell of a spooky coincidence, but it's the only chance we've got."

"Are you saying that we're going to be home in less than twenty-four hours?" Her voice was suddenly tight and awed at such a remote possibility. Mulder looked at her and offered a weak smile.

"I sure hope so, Scully. I sure hope so."

The knock at the door was tentative - hesitant. "Yes" growled Mulder, his attention still on the woman.

The opening door revealed a now familiar face. Mulder and Scully looked from the man to each other. <One of the writers - Vince > they identified.

Vince Gilligan glanced around the room - noting the marble sink, the pale floral wallpaper and boxes of matching pink tissues. He felt slightly embarrassed and curious - like a 12 year old dared to sneak into the girls locker room. <Get a grip man - it's only a bathroom>. Mulder and Scully watched him. He smiled.

"Scull.....Gillian. You okay?"

Scully and Mulder caught the slip. They locked eyes in silent communication and Dana nodded. Slipping his arm across her back Mulder drew her protectively closer.

"You know don't you?" He gestured to himself and Scully. "We are not who we seem."

Vince checked the door was closed and stepped closer.

He flushed pink "...aahh, we... overheard you talking after that photo shoot."

"You were spying on us." Mulder's tone was blunt.

He shrugged. "Look at it from our point of view. We were worried.....you....David and Gillian... were acting very odd. For all we knew you could have been suffering breakdowns."

"Now you know the truth." said Scully.

"Chris..." Vince chuckled. "Chris is still sceptical"

Even Scully appreciated the humour of that remark.

"But you're not?" asked Mulder.

"Hey.... I'm open to extreme possibilities." smiled Vince. "I thought something was wrong that day at the airport."

Still keeping Scully close Mulder leaned back against the sink. "Apart from what you heard what gave us away? As far as I can tell we look exactly like David and Gillian."

"Not quite. You probably have a few more body scars that Dave and Gillian has a small beauty spot on her lip - and the tattoo of course.

"Tattoo?!" said Scully wide-eyed.

"A small one - on her ankle. But that wasn't it. It's the way you stand together."

Mulder and Scully blinked at each other, but for once not in communication. Scully was trying to see what Gilligan saw and Mulder was trying to imagine a tattooed Scully.

"Kim Mannners said something once about Mulder and Scully being the best of friends while David and Gill were the best of acquaintances. It shows in the way you stand together."

He tilted his head faintly to one side and studied the agents. "But it's more than that isn't it? The fans are right. The lines between partner/friend/lover and family are gone. It transcends the boundaries of all manner of relationship - purity of trust...." Vince was on a roll.

A niggling cell of Mulder's brain told him this was ridiculous. He was standing in the Ladies Room of a luxury LA hotel listening to a television writer try and define his relationship with Scully. He didn't know what to say.

Scully did.

"Why am I bleeding?"

Vince stopped mid-rapture, licked his lips and swallowed, suddenly in need of moisture for his throat. <She would ask that >.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Don't tell her."

Neither of them had seen the door open. John Shiban pushed the door shut and strode further into the room.

"Why not?" asked Gilligan.

"Lots of reasons. What if the press finds out."

"The press finds out what? We all hang out in the ladies lav?"

Four heads turned back to the door as Frank Spotniz pushed open the bathroom door.

"He..." Shiban pointed at Gilligan, "He wants to tell her about the...you know." He waved his hand under his nose.

"She has a right to know - they both have." defended Gilligan.

"Why not? What harm would it do?" shrugged Spotniz looking at Shiban.

Mulder had the oddest feeling he was in the middle of a forgotten Three Stooges movie. He opened his mouth to speak as the door swung open again.

"Hey! What's happening?" said Glenn Morgan from the door way. He entered the bathroom followed by Jim Wong and 2 others Mulder could not put names to.

< Make that the Marx Bros - a few more people and we'll have A Night at the Opera> Mulder tightened his hold on Scully. He just wished someone would answer her question.

"Vince thinks we should tell them about the ...you know..." Frank did the under nose wave.

Morgan shook his head. "Nah....think of the damage it could to do the space time continuum."

One of the unknown producers spluttered "What?! More damage than you've already done this season??"

Morgan glared at him.

Shiban laughed.

"Shut-up Goatboy" growled Wong.

"I still don't see the harm in telling them." continued Gilligan

"Because it would cheating...it would be like leaking plotlines for the next 10 episodes. It *is* leaking the plotlines for the next 10 episodes." yelled Shiban.

"Who's leaking the plots?" This time Bob Goodwin stood by the door.

In a flurry of voices the others explained.

Mulder and Scully leant against the sink and looked at each other, bemused despite the seriousness of the subject.

Goodwin frowned, "I've gotta agree with John on this one. It's too risky."

"It's not as if they're going to go running to Entertainment Tonight with the story." exasperated Frank

"How do you know? -what if they let something slip at the awards. Chris would go ballistic." countered Shiban

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

The acoustics of the room did marvellous things for Chris Carter's voice.

The bathroom became a gallery of very lifelike statues. Carter moved forward looking from face to face.

"Well??..."

"Um...Chris..." Bob Goodwin gestured vaguely towards the door. Chris turned to see the maitre'd and a well tanned woman peering through the open doorway. With a smile he didn't feel he pushed the door closed and turned back to the crowded bathroom.

"Anyone want to explain why a waiter came up to me and said that the other patrons wanted to use the restroom, so could I please move the staff meeting to another room?!"

Bob looked at Frank. Frank looked at Glenn, Glenn at Jim. Jim stared at John. John glared at Vince. The two unnamed producers looked at the floor.

"Why is Scully bleeding?" Mulder's tone was soft and low, the question directed at Carter.

They all waited for the Bossman's answer.

Carter closed his eyes briefly, then opened them. "I can't tell you that."

Mulder slipped his arm from Scully's back and stepped away from the sink, moving closer with each word.

"Why the fucking hell not?"

"Because I don't know."

Mulder didn't yell, but his voice got deeper, angrier, "You must know...I saw the looks when Scully's nose bled. You wrote all about us....Tooms, Lyle Parker, John Barnett...those stories...those episodes mirror our cases, our lives. You must know what is causing it. What will stop it?"

Carter stood his ground. "I know what I wrote for my character...my creation, *my* Scully and *my * Mulder. I - none of us - wrote this scenario. How do I know it's the same thing?"

Mulder had already considered that possibility - considered and noted, just as he noted the way the other men watched him and knew they were taking notes for future reference. He turned slowly, looking straight into the eyes of each man. He saw them shift their eyes away and knew. He stopped suddenly and stared at Carter.

"That's it isn't it? You haven't cured it?"

Carter looked to Scully standing by the sink. "We will cure it...trust us."

Dana pushed forward, her back straight, chin determined. It was a look every man in the room recognised and admired.

Taking her place beside Mulder she spoke calmly. "Trust isn't something we do very well." She looked up at the tall man. "He has a point - how do we know it's the same thing. The nosebleed was probably just stress."

Mulder smiled down, "Believe it or not Scully - that thought did occur to me."

She smiled back, "You're learning Mulder."

"Have you given any thought to how to resolve this - this situation. No offence, but I want my actors back." Like Mulder before, Chris Carter's question was quietly spoken.

Scully turned to him with a grin. "Oh... Mulder has a theory."

"I'll bet he does." muttered Spotniz.

Carter breathed easy for the first time in hours. "I suggest we discuss it elsewhere. I'm sure there are people with better uses for this place."

Mulder, Scully and the others looked around and laughed. All had forgotten where they were.

Carter held open the door and one by one they left, ignoring the curious stares of the other restaurant patrons.

"Everything all right Sir?" simpered the maitre'd. The woman Carter spotted before hovered nearby.

"Sure, nothing to worry about - just settling an argument about how a scene should be played." Carter slipped the man a twenty, "Actors...writers...you know what they're like." He walked off behind the others.

The maitre'd tucked the money surreptitiously into a pocket and quickly checked the now empty bathroom. He turned to the waiting customer.

"The restroom is free now Ma'am."

"You've got to be bloody kidding!" said the woman in a sharp Australian accent. "I'm not going in there."

The maitre'd stared at her puzzled. "I'm sure it is perfectly safe...and clean."

"Like hell - I've seen the X-Files. I know what they do in toilets." With that she turned and went in search of less public convenience.

********************************************

It had been fourteen hours since she'd seen David and she had no idea what to do about it.

Fourteen hours.

Gillian remembered seeing an old movie called that once. About a man threatening suicide from a hotel window ledge. As she peeked through the blinds again she felt like she was standing there with him. Nowhere to go but down.

Taking off like that was probably not the brightest idea she'd ever had. But she'd been angry, tired and more than a little scared. She loved working on the X-Files - she loved playing Dana Scully. But she didn't want to be her.

She had so looked forward to the time off. Away from the set, away from the pressures, away from Vancouver, and away from the all drama and boredom that went into making a tv series. Sure it had meant leaving Piper behind but she couldn't deny the child her father or that she needed a break. Ten months a year, 5-6 days a week and 16 hours a day. That's all she'd hoped for - a few days away from the life of Dana Scully.

<And look what happened>

She'd laugh if it wasn't so depressing.

She window checked again.

Entering the empty motel room last night she assumed David had gone looking for her, but as the hours lengthened she got worried.

She considered ringing Skinner - the address book she found in Scully's luggage had his office and home phone numbers. She could try the Lone Gunmen - the listing under TLG had to be them. She was still trying to figure why Scully would have a separate number labelled Frohike - with an asterisk marking it <emergency only?>.

The address book was a bit of a revelation. The expected phone numbers - Dry Cleaners, hospitals, Lariat Rent-a-car, Veterinary clinic. Names she was familiar with - Mom, Bill <Dana's brother?>, Ellen, Kathie, Karen Kossof; a heavily scratched out Tom Colton (that made her smile - the bastard) and Mulder's mother - that gave her another smile - it was listed simply as Mulder's Mom <still no name!>. She paused at P - Pendrell. <The fans are going to scream when they find out what Chris has in mind for him>.

But what would she say when she called.

"Excuse me - I know I sound like Dana Scully, but ...."

The sounds of a car muffler in need of repair and Robert Plant full voicing 'The Battle of Evermore ' screeched into the car park.

Gillian slapped the curtain to one side.

A transit van, black and embezzled with a legion of hard rock symbols slowed to a halt. The back doors opened and 2 young men draped in the traditional heavy metal costume of black T-shirt and jeans scrambled out reaching to assist a third man exit. He high fived, and low fived his companions before they re-entered the vehicle. He walked to the driver's side and held out his hand to shake. The driver - a woman of blue streaked blonde hair reached out and dragged his head towards hers.

Several deep kissing moments later she released him, patted him on head, gunned the engine and burned skid marks in the tarmac.

Gillian watched David wave them goodbye and planned his death.

His hand had barely reached the knob when she flung open the door. "Where the FUCK have you been!!!"

David saw a wild eyed red haired fury and thanked an unspecified deity.

"Gill...." Thunk.

Gillian looked at the crumpled heap of Duchovny. She grabbed his arms and dragged him into the room.

<This better be a good story David or I really will shoot you.>

------------------------

 Four Seasons Hotel
Los Angeles

Scully went straight to her room to change her blouse while the others gathered in Mulder's suite. By unspoken agreement they said nothing while they waited for her to join them.

Now that he was not longer pretending to be Duchovny Mulder allowed himself to relax a little.

It was hard to be entirely comfortable with a roomful of men watching your every move. He understood why, he just wished they wouldn't. It was like being under a microscope - Bowman, the director especially seemed to be scrutinising every move he made . He could imagine the conversations that would go on when Duchovny returned - "No David, Mulder walks this way" or "He moves his head that way". His double was going to hate him, if he didn't already.

It was with relief and a smile that he greeted Scully's return. Freshly bloused and face scrubbed she crossed the room and sat beside him on the bed. Fox Mulder tilted his head just quizzically to the left, she tilted her head in response and the rest of the room was unimportant.

Carter watched them. In that silent conversation he saw five things - faith, hesitation, wariness, encouragement, and something indefinable but unmistakable. He closed his eyes and grimaced.

<We can't let them out in public>.

The office already had reporters ringing about Gillian's marriage break up, <if they see them acting like this we'll be dead meat>. The weirdest thing was - they weren't doing anything really. They were just looking at each other. Trouble was anyone who knew Duchovny or Anderson well would notice something astray. They stood just a little too close, spoke just a fraction too slowly, eyed everyone just a little too suspiciously, and they watched each other just a little too much. They were too Mulder and Scully, when they were supposed to be David and Gillian.

Chris Carter still could not quite believe the reality of couple who sat in front of him. He didn't have two actors 'living the roles' but two roles 'living the actors'.

During the elevator ride up he had tried to analyse the situation. On one hand he thought of Mulder and Scully as his creations. He had formed them from his imagination - them, their world and the conspiracies within it. Then Rob, David, Gillian and the others had helped breath life into them. <Breathe life into ....Jeez!>. These two people were not the characters he had created - sure they looked like Dave and Gill and they behaved like Dave and Gill played Mulder and Scully - but that was the difference - these two were not playing and it showed.

The question was who came first?

"The chicken or the egg?" he mumbled.

Mulder looked up at the sound of Carter's voice. He had asked himself the same thing.

"Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?"

"Do you know the answer?"

"No and to be honest I'm not sure I want to know, the possible implications are too eerie to contemplate - I know I tried and it gave me a headache.....but I think I know what happened here."

"I think that is fairly obvious - somehow you and Scully have swapped places with David and Gillian. It had to have been on the plane - You got on board as one person and got off as another. How did it happen? - was there a flash of light?" As if he was story-boarding an idea Carter looked at around the room for suggestions from his production team.

"Any kind of vibration? Loud buzzing noise?" said Frank.

"Sensations of weightlessness? Asked Vince

"Did you notice any strange smells?" added John

"Did you experience dizziness?"

"Any fillings loosened?"

"Did your watch stop?"

Questions fired at him from all sides of the room, Mulder shrugged a smile and answered Carter first. "Something like that - one moment I'm dozing off to sleep on a flight to Portland and the next thing I wake up and find I'm not quite myself"

Everyone smiled at the joke.

"Did you lose time? Did you lose 9 minutes?" asked Carter.

"No idea." Mulder held out his arm to show then the watch. "It's stopped."

The 1013 team looked at each other excitedly.

"Then that means..." started Shirban.

Mulder forestalled him with a shake of his head, "No - it doesn't mean anything. The watch may have run down before Duchovny got on the plane."

The disappointment on their faces was very real, and Mulder realised in one clear moment that for once he was preaching to converted. They did want to believe.

"Mine did."

They all looked at Scully. Until now she had not spoken a word since entering the suite.

"My watch....Gillian's watch. It was slow. I noticed when I was getting ready for dinner last night."

"How slow?" asked Gilligan.

Scully looked at him, at Carter and finally Mulder. She flushed pink, "Nine minutes."

Mulder stared at her dumbfounded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It ..didn't seem important - like you said .. the watch might have been slow beforehand." She looked up into his eyes and knew that was important to him.

Mulder shook his head slightly, "Scully, remember the last time we lost 9 minutes?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carter and Spotnitz exchange grins. < Wonder what that's about?>

Scully noted the exchange too but ignored it to answer her partner.

"Mulder.." she began exasperatedly. "Do we have to go through that again?"

"Scully.."

For the next minute or two they argued. Carter watched them and smiled <Well, that's one Mulder and Scully thing David and Gill have got down pat>. He made a mental note to congratulate them. Placing his hands in a T shape he called for time out.

"Mulder - you have a theory? About getting back..."

Mulder hesitated - for the first time in years he was worried what kind of reaction one of his theories would get.

Spotnitz seemed to understand. "Surely it's no weirder than explaining what happened at Icy Cape or on the USS Ardent."

Mulder nodded a faint smile of thanks, stood and paced over to the desk and began sorting out papers.

"Chris.."

"Yeah Gil...sorry Dana" Chris turned his attention.

"If ....somehow....you and the guys do influence what happens to us .... Do you think you could assign us a case in Hawaii?" Dana felt silly asking - it was almost like she believed it was possible.

"Hawaii? Why?"

Smiling and blushing self-consciously Scully replied. "I've never been there and I've always wanted to see it."

"Scully" Mulder was looking over his shoulder at her, giving her that 'see you do believe the impossible' smirk, "Why didn't you tell me? I've got dozens of cases involving ancient Hawaiian spirits, not to mention visitation stories."

"I was hoping for something like a nice normal serial killer and the chance to spend a few days in the sun there after the case - preferably not in a hospital or quarantine." Scully bantered back.

"C 'mon Scully - sun? I took ya to Florida didn't I?"

"Chasing Fiji mermaids Mulder."

Carter chuckled. "I'll see what we can do Dana. What about you Mulder? Fancy a trip somewhere...Roswell maybe?"

Mulder had finished gathering his notes and now spreading them out on the coffee table where all could see. "Been there...done that...shrunk the T-shirt. I don't know....." He looked to the distance for a second with the confused stare of the workaholic forced to confront the existence of 'free time' "..Hawaii sounds good - home of luau's, leis, and Elvis movies - hey, there's a thought - Graceland - Scully and I can investigate reports of Elvis sightings on the 20th anniversary of his death." He grinned at Scully <fun. eh?> <you're nuts Mulder> Scully grinned back.

Both totally missed the sudden fascination the 1013 people found with their shoes.

Still grinning Mulder turned back to Carter and the others. "Ready gentlemen?"

They moved in closer to the table, Scully folding herself on the floor beside him and Mulder began.

"The key here is timing and intersection....."

----------------------------

 11:21am
Great Northern Motel
Portland Oregon

"mmmmmmm"

Gillian laid down the papers she was reading and looked over the edge of the bed. From the sounds of it David was finally coming round.

David opened his eyes to a bright light. And shut them quickly.

<Don't tell me it was dream..>

"David?"

At the sound of that voice he opened his eyes once more, turning his head to the source. Surprisingly it did not hurt as much as he expected.

"Gillian?" He could see her face hovering over his. She seemed suspended in mid air. "Gill?"

She moved and he realised she had been peering at him from the edge of the bed. Kneeling beside him she lifted the blanket and to his surprise ran her hands across his feet.

"Good - they've warmed up. They were like ice before - didn't your mother ever tell not to go outside barefoot in winter?"

Slowly he eased himself into a sitting position against the other bed, "Yeah maybe, ..but that was the day I discovered girls so I probably wasn't paying much attention."

A typical David wisecrack. Gillian smiled. "How do you feel?"

David reached up and gingerly touched a spot on the back of his head. "Like there's a sign on the back of my head that says 'Hit Here'. What about you? You OK Gill?"

"Yeah, " she answered. " Do you think you can get up to the bed?"

David nodded and winced, but the pain was fading.

With Gill's help he made it onto the bed and leaned back against the headboard and tried to shake the last of the fuzzies clouding his mind. Gillian was talking.

"....hit the floor. No doubt Scully would have been able to lift you up with a fireman's carry or something and deposit you on the bed. Best I could manage dragging you into the room. After I checked you weren't bleeding I placed a pillow under your head and covered you with blankets. Your feet and arms were icy."

"I didn't have much chance to change." He wet his lips and ran his tongue across his teeth. It felt like moss growing there. "Could I have a glass of water ....please?"

Gillian headed for the bathroom, returning moments later with two tumblerfulls of water. She handed him one and placed the other on the side table. He gulped the liquid down in one go and then reached for the other.

"What happened?"

David sipped a bit then put the glass back down and shuffled higher against the bedback. Gillian settled on the end of the bed folding her legs under her.

"After you left I started to go after you - but then I realised it would only make things worst." He glanced at her and she nodded. Gillian had not been in the best of moods last night.

"I figured I give you half an hour - hour at the most. If you weren't back then I'd go find you."

"How? You didn't know where I went."

"You went to the Airport Mall."

Gillian looked at him in amazement. "How did you know that?"

"It's logical - it's the only place nearby that was open and reasonably safe at that time of the night."

<smart arse> thought Gillian. David continued talking.

"About 30-40 minutes after you'd gone there was a knock at the door....I...stupidly I assumed it was you. Turned out to be two ugly looking goons. I took one look and tried to make a run for it, but..." He touched the sensitive spot on his head again, "...I didn't get far."

"Then what..?"

"I have no idea until I woke up strapped to a table with .."

"Smoking Man breathing all over you?"

".....how did you ...?"

Gillian reached across to the other bed and tossed him the papers she had been reading. "The name Raul Bloodworth was a giveaway." David recognised the script Cancer Man had given him.

He picked up the glass from the table, took a long sip and then filled her in on everything that he could remember from his encounter with the Smoking Man.

"Are you sure he's not going to bother us?" Gillian was understandably worried.

"Positive. He seemed most concerned that Mulder and Scully return to their proper time frame."

"But he still wouldn't tell you why.."

"What do you expect? A truthful answer?"

Setting the now empty glass down he studied her. "So...what did you get up to last night?"

"Aren't you going to tell me how you got back here?"

"You first"

"Like you guessed - the mall. I grabbed a cab about 1/2 a block down. I wandered the shops for a while - it's been ages since I just window shopped, especially at that time of the night. In the end I took in a movie." Gillian shrugged, a little embarrassed at such a dull night. "Look...David. I'm sorry I snapped at you last night, but I just..."

He reached out and gave her hands a squeeze. "Don't worry about it." He swung his feet of the bed and headed for the bathroom.

Returning a few minutes later cleaner of teeth he laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes.

"David!"

"What?!"

Gillian glared at him. "The Deadheads? The blonde with the lip lock?"

"Oh!" Sitting up he tucked his feet under him, and smiled.

"After I walked out of the warehouse or whatever, I didn't have a clue where I was, and I wasn't inclined to go back for directions so I just started walking. Can't say much for CancerMan's neighbourhood. Lots of small factories, storage places, stuff like that. Not a person in sight. I was walking - 1/2, maybe 3/4 of an hour before I saw any cars. I tried hitching but it didn't do much good," David looked down at himself, "Guess I look like a refugee from a homeless shelter." He lifted his shirt and sniffed, somewhat surprised at some of the odours adhering to it. He shrugged and continued. "It was another half hour before Deslea came along and offered me a lift."

"Deslea? The blue streak blonde?"

"Mother to Zach and Matt - one half of Black Dog - Oregon's answer to Led Zeppelin ....they hope. She's their manager, agent, chauffeur and one and only roadie. And a woman who could suck your tonsils out with one kiss." He felt his teeth. Thankfully none had loosened during the assault on his mouth.

Gillian chuckled, her earlier anger long gone, "What did explanation did you give for ...you known ...being out there in that condition?"

"I rattled off some a vague story about a party and getting left behind. Would you believe she then lectured me on the dangers of hitchhiking?! This from a woman with seven earrings, two nose rings and tattoo of Jimmy Page on her left buttock."

Gillian raised an eyebrow, "She showed you the tattoo?"

"She offered to but I settled for a description."

"Still it was nice of her to offer you a ride."

"Well, she did say something about an ass like mine should not be made to suffer the chills of an Oregon morn." He grinned and reached for the Cancer Man's script. "What did you think of Smokey's masterpiece?"

"Have you read any of it?" When he responded in the negative she continued. "It's kind of weird... believable and unbelievable. It could almost be conspiracy script."

David flicked through the pages reading a passage here and there, alternatively chuckling and groaning.

"You going to show it to Chris?"

He put the pages down on the bed and shook his head. "Even if I wanted to it wouldn't be possible."

"Why not?"

"Think about it - we arrived in Portland without one single personal belonging. Everything we're carrying or wearing is Mulder or Scully's. If everything goes right and we and Mulder and Scully are in the right place tonight and the switch reverts back , anything we take on the plane will be remain with them - including any extras."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"Well... I couldn't do much more than think last night. Remind to me tell you what I've got planned for Chris. The point is we can't take anything back but we can leave something behind."

He got up from the bed and started pacing.

"I was thinking about what you said last night about Scully's fate and how we know what is going to happen to them ."

"But wou...." Gillian started to speak but David held his hand out to stop her.

"I know what you're going to say - I thought about it long and hard, and in the end I decided we can't tell them about the cancer, too much rides on that - and besides we don't know if she does have it or the cause is the same in our show. You've seen the differences between this world and ours. Even this, " he picked up Mulder's journal from the table, "is proof. Have we ever done an episode about a haunted house in Mullerville Tennessee?"

"No....but Mulder and Scully have investigated one, right?"

He grinned at her, "All here in loving detail - you should read it. Very spooky."

"I'll save it for a bedtime story. Aren't you forgetting one thing....Mulder and Scully are in LA - our time. They can easily find out what's going to happen in the future."

"True, but that'll be because they wanted to know not because we told them. I know it sounds weird but....it's like if we tell them about the cancer we're corrupting the future, but they find out on their own it's a natural progression of history. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Oddly enough yes. David...does all this have a point?"

"Yeah...sorry, the point is while I don't think we should tell them about Betts and the cancer we can at least them know what happened this weekend, because it's already happened."

Gillian nodded slowly, smiling, "...and the timeline has already been affected."

"Exactly. Plus, and this a major reason, they'll have to contend with Skinner when they get back to DC - the least we can do is give them enough details so they can make up a reasonable story."

"I'll go along with that. How do we go about it?"

"Write it down....I'll use Mulder's journal. Got any paper?"

Gillian thought for a moment then reached into the carryall and retrieved Scully's laptop, "I can use the this."

"Good. You get started, just write down everything that's happen from your angle."

"Everything? Even Phoebe?"

David grimaced, "Even Phoebe. I'm gonna get cleaned up," he sniffed the front of his shirt again, "Between Cancerman and whatever the Metalhead boys were smoking I must smell like an opium den."

"Really? I hadn't noticed a difference."

"Haha. By the way - what was the movie?"

"The movie? Oh...Henry the Eighth with Kevin Costner" answered Gillian distractedly as she scrambled to find a pen in Scully's bag.

David pulled open a suitcase looking for a change of clothes, "Don't you mean Henry the Fifth with Kenneth Branagh?

"No, Henry VIII with Kevin Costner as Henry and Meryl Streep as Anne Boleyn."

Something in his silence made her look up. David stood there clutching a clean shirt, his mouth open in disbelief.

She shrugged, "It's true - and Elle Macpherson played Jane Seymour, and Alicia Silverstone was Catherine Howard."

David's jaw dropped a little lower.

Gillian grinned, "You said it yourself David - it's a different universe."

He had no answer to that.

********************************************

Carter flipped through the question cards. Same old things. He glanced over at Mulder and Scully on the other side of the limo, sipping champagne and quietly murmuring touristly at the passing view. They seemed relaxed.

<Glad someone is> He was exhausted. Between Mulder's Area 51 theory and the preparations for tonight he was ready to crawl in to a cave and sleep. Deciding that he had no say in Mulder's plan, <afraid to say anything more likely> and knowing the consequences if David and Gillian didn't appear tonight he had thrown everything into preparing them for the public. He ran tapes of interviews and guest spots so they would have an idea how David and Gillian handled the media and even showed them the blooper tapes. He stifled a giggle - that elevator scene from Ghost in The Machine.

<I don't know who turned redder - Scully or Mulder>.

He was glad that Scully had insisted on calling Gillian's daughter. He mentally kicked himself for not thinking of it himself. Thankfully Piper was so excited over the new doll her father had bought her she hadn't noticed Mommy didn't sound quite mommy-like.

He looked over at them again. Both were lost in thought.

This little outing was a test. To see how they held up in the spotlight.

Of course he hadn't told them that Gillian had turned down the convention or that David *never* did the fan appearances.

Dana gazed listlessly out the window. The conversation with Gillian's little girl had shocked her. She had a nephew and godson and friends with kids, but until she chatted aimlessly with Piper she'd never really...*really* felt the need for her own. She was so glad the child was so caught up in describing her new toy that she didn't realise it was her mother she was talking to.

Scully sighed loudly and glanced at Mulder. She caught his eye and almost read his mind. He was on a guilt trip again. She'd seen his face when she talking to Gillian's girl. He was blaming himself for separating mother and child. One of these days she was going to convince that man of three things. The sun did not revolve around him, he was not to blame for every tragedy that struck the planet, and she lo...

"Here we are." Carter stuffed his notes in a clutch case as they pulled up outside a large business centre in downtown L.A.

Fragments of an earlier conversation drifted through Scully's head as Carter straightened his jacket and stepped out into the sunshine.

< "I know you've never attended a convention before...believe me, it's an interesting experience. The fans tend to get a little...crazy sometimes - but crazy in a wonderful way. I don't know what you've seen of the show's following so far, but believe me, it's amazing. There were suicide attempts all over the U.S after Anasazi... >

Scully gulped and followed Mulder, Chris Carter and six security guards into the depths of the building, entering a maze of elevators until finally ending up behind a set of double doors. Sounds of occasional screaming and laughter could be heard inside.

"We're just outside the convention hall," a guard explained to them. "This is the security entrance to the stage. When you walk on you'll find close to twenty thousand people out there, all of whom have paid ten dollars to come see you today. And there's a line stretching for miles outside the public entrance to the hotel."

"Twenty thousand people?" Mulder asked quietly.

The guard nodded solemnly. "Never seen anything like it. You all have fifteen minutes, max. There's also a wide-screen projector just beside the stage, so don't be intimidated by it. We've been showing clips of the show for the past hour, psyching them up for your presentation. You ready?"

Mulder and Scully nodded in unison. Carter glanced at them and nodded. "Let's go."

Immediately, two guards opened a set of double doors leading on to the stage and Chris Carter walked into the blaze of lights in front of them. A loud and frenzied scream erupted from the crowd. Mulder swallowed and caught Scully's hand, almost dragging her beside him as he moved to stand beside the man who had the power to kill them both at the click of a computer key. Scully forced a smile as the mass of people standing below them screamed louder, some of them falling to their knees in front of the stage. She raised her hand and half-waved to the crowd. There was another deafening roar.

<oh hell...>

--------------------

It was only when they made it back to the limo and were leaving the street that Carter exhaled. He turned to the agents and grinned, "Well...I think that went down pretty well."

"That was amazing." Mulder said quietly. He glanced at Scully, who looked at him with a smile on her lips and said nothing.

"It was wasn't it. You and Scully were unbelievable. Gillian and David couldn't have done as good. I'm proud of you."

And he was. Damn proud. They handled it like a natural talent. He guessed Scully's years of medical studies and Mulder's memory came in handy - they were used to shifting piles of hastily learned facts and coming up with the answers. After a few minutes of nervousness the pair at settled down and fielded questions like pros. They even surprised him <must ask Scully were she got that story about Amanda Pays> he thought.

That's not to say there weren't one or two moments of worry. He had to jump in quickly when Mulder starting answering a question about his mother's name and a question from one fan about Scully's abduction caused a few moments of tension.

Carter glanced over at the silent young woman. "You OK Dana?"

Scully shook her head shyly. "Still in shock. I didn't expect anything so….so overwhelming. Are they always like that?"

 "Yeah. Our fans are a very * enthusiastic * lot." He reached over and patted her hand. "You were great - both of you. That little mock spat you had over Bambi nearly brought the house down. I can see transcripts of the con burning up the bandwidth now! It was perfect and so in charac…." Carter's words faded as his brain caught up with his mouth.

"So in character? A bit hard for us not to be don't you think Chris?" drawled Mulder with a smile. One young woman had made a remark about Scully being jealous of Dr Bambi Berenbaum - something Scully immediately denied and he confirmed. They'd gotten into a 'was/wasn't' argument that would've gone on a lot longer if the laughter from the audience had reached them. Thankfully the fans thought it was all for their benefit.

Scully smiled and gave Carter's hand a quick squeeze. "It's ok Chris. Really."

 She reached for the bottle of champagne resting in the glass cabinet and poured the sparkling liquid into a glass. She sipped contentedly, her fifth glass of the day, as Mulder checked his watch.

It was barely two o'clock.

-----------------------------

'.. regained conciousness ..'

"There are 4 s's in consciousness," said the voice from behind.

Gillian barely paused in her typing to answer. "I'm in a hurry. "

"That's no excuse for lazy spelling," said David as he leaned over the top of her and made to correct the spelling.

Gillian slapped his hands away, "David! Leave it. The spell checker will pick it up."

He ignored her and reached for the keyboard again. Elbowing him out the way she quickly backspaced, deleted and began retyping the word only to stumble on the spelling again.

"Consciousness - c o n s c i o u s n e s s - consciousness." whispered David in her ear.

"There! Satisfied? Let me guess - you were State spelling champion and it offends your sensibilities to see a word misspelled?" she growled.

"Something like that." he grinned back.

Gillian stared narrowly at him for a moment < more like champion arsehole >

"David - just leave me alone and finish your own work."

David gave her one his combination smartarse boyish grins; after nearly 4 years of working 14 hour days with him she was probably the only woman outside his mother who didn't melt at the sight of it.

"All done." He stretched and flopped backwards onto a bed.

There was the reason. He'd finished, she was still typing and he was bored. That was another thing she come to recognise in David.

She supposed he could say the same about her.

At least back in Vancouver she had Piper. Playing, caring and loving her child filled in a lot of blank hours on set.

The next 9 hours stretched ahead before they could board a plane that would <hopefully and all fingers crossed> take them back to reality and back to her daughter.

What to do until then....

"David?"

He lifted his head. "Yeah?"

"I'm just about done..... are you sure Cancerman won't come after us?"

"Positive - we're not who he wants."

"What about Krycek?"

David frowned, "It's a possibility...but I'm guessing that he's smart enough to know if he didn't get us the first try it's too risky to try again." He sat up straighter, "Gill - stop worrying. All we have to do is get through the rest of the day and then we get that plane back to Normal."

"That's what I was thinking about - how to fill in the next 8 hours."

"I have a couple of ideas."

Gillian scullylifted her eyebrow, "I'll bet you do - forget it David."

David shook his head and smiled, "Dream on Gill." He reached over to the bedside table and picked up the Tourist Guide so helpfully provided by the motel management. "I was thinking maybe we could take in a movie later but first why not a little sight seeing," he waved the booklet at her. "There must be something in this town worth seeing."

"Yeah, that sounds like an idea. You see what's offering and I'll finish up this." She turned back to the laptop and continued typing.

----------------------------------

 The Beverly Hilton Hotel
Beverly Hills, California
January 19, 1997

Scully fiddled with the sequinned neckline of her dress, uncomfortably aware that her partner was watching her every move. She straightened the slightly sagging fabric around her shoulders and sucked her lower lip between her teeth, watching the scenery through the tinted windows of the limo. She stole a glance at her partner and snickered under her breath.

Mulder in a tux - the last time she had seen him in such formal attire was during the Phoebe Green affair, almost three years ago. She scowled at the memory and fiddled with an earring.

"Jesus Christ, Scully," Mulder said irritably, tucking the cards containing David Duchovny's speech into one pocket and turning to glare at his partner. "I'm trying to concentrate. Would you stop touching your clothes and your hair and just sit still?"

"Why, would you rather do it?" Scully's voice was teetering on the edge of anger and Mulder licked his lips in an attempt to stay calm.

"Would you please stop arguing?" Chris Carter looked up at the both from his conversation with Bob Goodwin, suddenly alert at the first sign of tension between his characters. He caught the look on Scully's face and felt bad. "Look, Scully, Mulder, have some champagne. It'll loosen you up in no time."

"Okay." Scully said agreeably and reached for the bottle.

Mulder's hand on her arm stopped her and she scowled at him.

"I don't think you should, Scully." Mulder said seriously. "Do you have any idea how many glasses you've had today?"

"Oh, Mulder, go to hell." Scully said angrily and filled her glass. "You know, sometimes, I get so sick of your attitude. You have so many opportunities in your life, so many chances to enjoy yourself and you simply throw them away."

"What are you saying?"

"You should live a little. Treat yourself." Scully leaned close to his ear, so close he could smell the alcohol on her breath. "God knows I would, if I were you."

Neither of them noticed Chris Carter's groan.

When the limo glided to a stop outside the auditorium, Chris Carter stepped out of the limo and blinked, shading his eyes from the sun. Several other cars pulled in behind them and various members of The X-Files cast and crew emerged.

Finally Mulder and Scully emerged, hand in hand, their arrival on the red carpet eliciting a loud scream from the crowd of fans who had gathered in the streets around them. Scully suddenly saw cameras in front of them and smiled, managing a wave.

"This way," Carter said, leading them down the carpet toward the reporters and cameras, obviously a veteran of award shows. He even paused for a moment and waved to the hundreds of X-Files fans, who were waving signs and screaming their names.

"David! David, over here!"

Mulder felt Scully cringe beside him and dropped her hand. He turned around and saw a tall man with glasses and a slightly balding head making his way toward them.

At least four different men followed him, holding cameras and mikes, including one transcribed with the words ET.

Mulder looked at Carter frantically, who realised his predicament. "Anthony Edwards," he whispered. "He's up against you tonight."

The man reached Mulder and shook his hand vigorously.

"David, how are you? You haven't backed out of the bet, have you?"

"Uh, no." Mulder replied. He shot a confused glance at Carter, who shrugged.

"Hi, I'm Julie Moran and this is Bob Goen. You remember us, right? Entertainment Tonight is covering the Golden Globes this year. David, what do you think your chances are for picking up Best Actor in a Drama Series?"

Anthony Edwards broke in. "Well, actually, David and I have this bet going. If he wins, I get one hundred dollars. You see, it's all sewn up already and he's going to win."

"Yeah, well, he's trying the reverse psychology thing on me," Mulder replied as Chris Carter became more relieved than ever that he had sent his character to Oxford. "You know, I actually want him to win, because that way I get one hundred dollars. It's in the bag for him."

Edwards waved to him and departed as Chris Carter urged them both inside, smiling and offering "no comment" when asked about his chances for taking out Best Drama.

Scully's jaw dropped open as they walked into the room, the lavish decorations and huge stage all too intimidating. She glanced at her partner and noted that he was smiling at a blonde sitting three tables away from where they were standing.

"Who is that?" Mulder asked Carter, pointing indiscreetly in the woman's direction.

"Tea Leoni," Carter replied, finding his placecards and taking a seat. "She has her own show called The Naked Truth, filmed here in LA."

"Does Duchovny know her? She just gave me a wave."

Carter shrugged, "Dunno, Now, I believe you and Scully are sitting somewhere in that direction." He waved a hand somewhere toward the stage and then his face lit up.

"Connie! Over here!"

A woman dressed in a decorated gold ensemble appeared beside Scully and squeezed her shoulder.

"Gillian, how are you doing? I spoke with an insider of the Press Association this morning and they think our chances are good. Come on, I'll show you where you guys are sitting."

Scully looked at Carter with raised eyebrows and he mouthed the word "manager" under his breath. Scully looked relieved and grabbed her partner's arm. He ignored her and kept staring at the blonde. "David, are you coming?"

"She's not one of Duchovny's girlfriends?" he asked Carter.

As Carter shook his head, Scully tugged his arm and he followed her to a table nearby the stage. He found a card with the words David Duchovny written across it in careful, precise script and took his seat. He was annoyed that "Connie" had been placed between Scully and himself, though he noticed the woman Chris had referred to as Tea was still in sight.

"Can I get you both anything?" Connie asked, hovering beside Scully's seat and fiddling with her hair.

"Just champagne." Scully said and smirked. Mulder caught his partner's expression and gave her a exasperated look.

"Some food would be good." he said pointedly. Connie disappeared and Mulder looked around the room. It was filling up fast and technicians were adjusting the lights on the stage. After a few moments, Connie returned with the drinks and food, then departed again.

"Gillian?"

Scully turned to find a tall, dark-haired man standing beside the table. She smiled and nodded, bewildered. Mulder glanced at the man and frowned.

Across the room, Chris Carter glanced up, caught sight of the man and choked on his glass of champagne. In less than ten seconds, he was across the room and clutching the man's arm.

"Rodney. Good to see you again." Carter dug his fingers into Rodney Rowland's arm and began dragging him away. "What brings you to the Globes?"

"Good to see you too, Chris," Rowland replied puzzled. He turned back to Scully. "Gillian, how's it going?

"Ah...er, fine..thank you....um...Rodney. Yourself?"

"Oh great...picking up a bit of work here and there." He smiled , "Though nothing that will match the experience of working with you."

Mulder eyed the man suspiciously <who is this jerk>.

Catching Mulder's look and totally misinterpreting it, Rowland hastened to add, "or working with you Dave."

"Thank you....Rod-ney." Mulder smiled tersely and looked to Carter for an explanation.

"Oh my God..." muttered Carter and began gesturing wildly to Glen Morgan and Jim Wong.

Ignoring the strangeness around him Rowland leaned closer to her, "So what do you think the reaction will be when your fans see the episode? Do you think they'll be shocked?"

"Hey Rodney!…how's it going man?" Jim Wong practically skidded to a halt next to him.

"Fine Jim. I was just asking Gillian what she thought of the finished product - how the fans are likely to react when Scully..."

Glen Morgan sidled up next to Rowland and clamped a hand over his mouth. Rowland stared at him wild-eyed and pushed the hand away.

"Glen...what the hell?"

"Sorry ... don't want to give away too much of the plot - walls have ears and all that.." he gestured vaguely around the room.

Truth was, they * were * beginning to attract attention.

"Uh huh." Rodney didn't look convinced, but pecked Scully on the cheek and departed. "Good luck tonight, Gillian. I'll be rooting for you."

Scully smiled brightly and mumbled thanks.

"Jesus Christ." Jim Wong said, shaking his head. "The walls have ears??"

"What do you expect on the spur of the moment? Hamlet?" growled Morgan.

As Morgan and Wong left for their table, Carter shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot and tried to think of how to make the next move. <God.. maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all>

"What was that all about?" Mulder asked Carter suddenly.

He stopped muttering, swallowed hard and bit his lip.

Both Mulder and Scully looked daggers at him.

"He's in upcoming episode." Carter said lightly. He turned and strode back to his table, ignoring the protestations from Mulder and Scully.

Scully looked at her partner and drank another glass of champagne. This time Mulder joined her.

********************************************

4 hours, a couple of museums and a park or so later David and Gillian sat in a café edging Portland's South Park Blocks tired but content. They'd walked debated and agreed and argued their way through half of South Park, the Historical Society and the Art Museum and were contemplating foregoing the movie in favour of the Roller Skating Rink. What had started out as a time filler had turned out to be one of the most relaxing afternoons either had had in a long time. They didn't say it out loud but both knew the reason. The pressure was off for the first time in years. No one recognised them, no one knew them and no one cared. They were just two people playing tourist - and it felt good.

"Agent Mulder? Agent Scully?"

So much for anonymity.

The young man who hailed them was familiar; familiar in that vaguely peripheral way of someone you work with but just can't put a name to.

The young man held his hand out for David to shake. For the weirdest of moments David recalled filming Mulder's first meeting with Krycek. He shook the hand and tried to say hello without sounding like a jerk. Gillian only managed slightly better in her response - but then she had about 30 seconds longer to recover.

"I guess you never expected to see me again?"

"No - can't say I did." replied Gillian. <Who is this??> she tried to telepath to David.

The young man looked around the room carefully, a couple of the diners gave him curious looks, "Do you mind join you for a moment?"

David and Gillian exchanged the briefest of puzzled looks and gestured to the spare seat. Plonking his tray of burger and fries on the table the dark haired boy smiled shyly and babbled, .

"Agent Mulder.....Miss Scully, I really want thank you two. If you hadn't spoken up for me I'd still be locked up for what happened to Peggy and the others....I mean I know I wasn't much help afterwards....I still can't remember most what happened..."

100 watt light bulbs went on inside David's head. He looked to Gillian's eyes and saw her puzzlement. He raised a hand and halted the young man's apologetic thanks and played his hunch.

"No need Billy - I'm just pleased to see you looking so well. How's everything back home? Is your father still with the police in Bellefleur?"

It appeared to be correct, for the young man relaxed considerably.

"Yeah - he did take time off for a year or so after ...everything happened.... but he went back to the job once he realised I was going to be OK." Billy looked at the couple, "Are you two here on a case? I'm not interrupting a stakeout or anything am I?"

David shook his head, "Nothing like that - we've actually been attending a Law Enforcement Seminar. To be honest we are playing hooky - two days of crime statistics was more than we could take so we slipped out for a little sight seeing." He glanced at Gillian - and saw the light dawning. Just to be safe he offered another clue.

"Scully was just saying earlier that this is the first time we have been back in Oregon since that case. Our very first case together wasn't it Scully?"

Gillian's smile thanked him for the clue. "I can't believe it was that long ago...seems like yesterday." She turned to Billy, "What happened to.." She paused, uncertain of the girl's name but fortunately Billy Miles didn't notice.

"Theresa Newman? She's fine - still in Bellefleur. She got married about a year ago and last I heard she was expecting her first baby."

"That's great to hear. And what you been doing with yourself."

<That's the idea Gillian> thought David, <keep him off the case and we won't have to answer any questions>

"I'm a student at PSU now. I did spend a couple of years just trying to get things back together, even went back to the pysch ward for a few months - I wasn't adjusting to anything real well." He glanced at a couple of the other customers who had been staring before and continued. " A few months back a local reporter decided to write a story about weird disappearances and alien abductions - he made big mention of what happened back home - you know, the kind of gossip stuff everyone in town was saying. I still get odd looks around campus like I'm crazy or something. I keep telling people that I'm the only one here who has a certificate to prove my sanity", he smiled acknowledgement at the age of his joke.

David smiled as he nicked a fry from the boy's tray. "I've been thinking of getting one of my own - though I don't know if it anyone would believe it". He had no idea what or whether he was saying made any sense but it was the kind of thing Mulder would say.

"So what are you studying Billy?" asked Gillian.

"Bachelor of Arts - I'm majoring in Theater Arts."

"Acting ambitions?" asked David.

Billy blushed a little, "I'm actually more interested in all the back stage stuff and writing."

For a few minutes David and Gillian questioned Billy on his studies and offering words of advice. Neither realised how much advice until Billy suddenly cocked his head to one side and looked at them curiously.

"Geez - you two know a lot about acting and theatre for FBI agents."

David and Gillian froze and panic stared at each other for the briefest of moments.

"Aaahh....ummm - that's because of a case we worked on. We spent a lot of time talking to people in the involved in the theatre, I just you could say we picked up a few tips." recovered David.

As Billy opened his mouth to ask the inevitable question Gillian spoke up, "We really can't say more because...some things are still under investigation."

Billy mouthed a silent 'oh' and glanced at his watch, "Geez, I better get moving. I'm due at work in 15 mins - I've got a projectionist job at the NorthWest Film Center down the street."

"What's playing? Scully and I were considering taking in a movie tonight." David said.

"The Film Center likes to play rare films or ones that only got a short run in original release. Hey! If you don't want to go back to the seminar just yet," Billy grinned - the idea of two FBI agents playing hooky was just so funny, "maybe you'd like to catch tonight's feature. It's called 'The Rapture'. Have you seen it?"

Only a miracle prevented David from spraying the table with a mouthful of coffee. Luckily Billy had been looking at Gillian and totally missed his reaction. With Billy watching Gillian could do no more than blink and keep her face neutral. "The Rapture.... no...I can't say I have."

"What about you Agent Mulder?"

Still slightly flushed with surprise David mumbled, " um...it rings a vague bell "

"It's probably not to everyone's taste - it's about this woman played by Mimi Rogers who's bored with her job and her life - she's into orgies and stuff. She gets involved with this guy Randy and then ends up joining this weird SuperFundamentalist type religious group...um... it's not an easy movie to explain - some of it is very mythical and symbolic. The title refers to the ultimate joy at the time of Judgement Day." Billy shrugged, "I like it but it was more of an art house movie than mainstream."

"Who was in it."

David mouthed a silent 'thanks' to Gillian for asking the question.

"Apart from Mimi Rogers, no-one you would really have recognised back in '91 when it was made - but now it's getting attention because of Kevin Sorbo - you know 'Hercules'? He played Randy."

------------------------------

 The Beverly Hilton Hotel
Beverly Hills, California
January 19, 1997
7:35pm

"Please welcome Patrick Stewart and Gillian Anderson!"

Scully blinked for a second and took two steps forward. <Whoa - I think Mulder was right about the champagne> Feeling slightly unreal, she began walking towards the stage, one hand still touching her hair. She wobbled and exhaled then caught sight of Mulder in the audience. He was sipping a soft drink and studying her closely . Most probably jealous that she was presenting with one of his idols. She giggled and then blinked as she took Patrick Stewart's arm. They walked to the stage together and Scully peered at the teleprompt.

"We are proud to present the award for Best Comedy Series..."

Scully's voice was amplified as she leaned toward the microphone and it bounced off the walls. Neat. She stifled a champagne giggle as the first clip began on the screen beside them.

Scully gazed around the auditorium, feeling strange. She recognised Chris Carter and his production staff at the back of the room, sipping drinks and fiddling with bow-ties. She glanced at Connie, Gillian's apparent manager, who gave her a warm smile. Scully smiled back unsteadily and tried to focus. Then she noticed the dark-haired man, Rodney, sitting quite close to the stage and staring at her. As the audience laughed and applauded one of the nominated clips, Scully grinned at him and he met her eyes. Carter followed her gaze and shot her a look of fear.

//"So, did you read Phil's "Welcome to the Dollhouse" sketch?"

"Yes, and I thought that it was terrible. Uhhh, do you, uh, think that David Duchovny is...gay?"//

Scully bit her lip to keep from laughing as the audience cracked up. Scully snickered as she watched Mulder bury his face in his hands briefly, then turn around to glare at a howling Chris Carter. Scully covered her mouth with one hand to stop giggling and avoided Mulder's eyes as the clip continued.

//"I wouldn't know, I lost touch with that world since the death of Mickey Rork..."

"Arty, sometimes I'll be talking to the guy and it gets to the point where I have to repeat the question because it's like he's *lost* himself in me. Do you know what I mean?"

<pause>

"No."//

The audience, amidst their laughter, applauded and the next clip continued. As the final scene ended and the snickers of the audience died down, Scully fumbled for the envelope and announced the winner.

As the cast and crew of 'Fraiser' began making their way toward the stage, Scully took a step backwards and waited beside Stewart for the speeches to end.

<Thank God that's over>

-------------------------------

 Great Northern Motel
10.10pm

Gillian was still talking as he opened the door and switched on the light.

"So....your mother has never actually seen it?"

"Not all of it - she says she can't watch anything in which I get killed or I'm naked."

"She hasn't seen much of your work then has she?" Gillian ducked the play punch he aimed at her arm. "Seriously, what did you think of the movie?"

Gillian looked up at him, "Seriously...I liked it. And as soon as we get back I'm going to rent a copy and compare performances - I want to see how you size up against Kevin."

"Haha" David tossed the key onto the bed. "What to do now? We've got.." he looked at his watch, " A little under 2 hours before the flight."

"For starters you could write up our little run-in with Billy Miles and I'll get our gear ....their gear together."

"Good thinking 99." He began gathering up the papers and laptop from the table, "Actually I think Mulder and Scully would be pleased to hear he's doing so well. I don't suppose they get much chance to follow up on what happens after they leave town - in fact I'm surprised they are allowed back in some states..." David's voice trailed off.

Noting his silence Gillian returned to stand beside him. He held the flight schedule in his hand, open to the map marked with the route that they hoped would take them home.

"Do you really believe it'll work?" A faint hint of fear coloured his voice and dark hazel eyes as he acknowledged her presence.

She smiled what she hoped was a positive smile. "It'll work. It has to work. We will get back. We have to get back. Too many people depend on us. My daughter, our families, Chris, everyone on the show - hell, even your crazy dog."

"My dog is not crazy."

"He adores you - definitely a sign of craziness."

"That's not craziness, it's good taste." Duchovny looked back down at the page. "I want to believe," he muttered.

Gillian watched him for a moment. "You know...I've been thinking about that whole 'I want to believe' thing. And I think I've got it covered."

"Oh?" He took his gaze from map.

"It's like Peter Pan .." She ignored his raised eyebrow, "I took Piper to see a pantomime of Peter Pan a couple of weeks ago. When Tinker Bell dies they got told the audience if they clapped three times and said they really believed she would live - and she did."

He put the book down and looked at her in amused disbelief, "Are you telling me you think Mulder should clap his hands and wish for the fairies to bring back his sister?"

She slapped him playfully on the arm, "Of course not!" She walked back to the bed and picked up the blouse and suit lying there. "But it can't hurt for us to have a little simple faith. The power of mind over matter and all that."

David smiled, the moment of doubt he'd felt before long gone, "Maybe I should just don the ruby slippers and start chanting "there's no place like home, there's no place like home."

Gillian giggled at the thought of her tall co-star dressed a-la Judy Garland in the Wizard of Oz. The giggles got worse as she recalled one of David's other roles.

"It wasn't that funny Gillian."

Gillian shook her head, "It's not that - I was just thinking about red shoes and wondering if Mulder has found out about some of your more...um...interesting roles - Twin Peaks and all that."

David grinned, "It did cross my mind while we were watching the movie. I'd liked have seen his face when he found out about Red Shoe Diaries."

"I'd liked to have seen Scully's." Still chuckling she headed towards the bathroom, "I'm going to freshen up. You get to writing down the meeting with Billy Miles."

"Gillian."

Hand on the bathroom door she looked back over her shoulder.

David clapped three times and clicked his heels, "I believe."

********************************************

 Beverly Hills, California
January 19, 1997
9:10pm

Scully swirled the ice around in her glass with a straw as she tried to remember the speech she had memorised earlier that day. She glanced down at the palm cards on her lap and bit her lip thoughtfully. Maybe she shouldn't use them. It was moments like this she wished for Mulder's photographic memory. The presentation with Patrick had been easier than she expected - all she had to do was read the teleprompter and try not to trip over her own feet, but if Gillian won this award she'd have to get up there and make a thank you speech for someone else, and at the moment she could barely recall her own name much less sound sincere.

Scully sneaked a glance at Mulder, who was concentrating on the stage and sighed. Another Mulder-skill she could do with right now was his focus. It would come in very handy helping tame the albatross size butterflies in her stomach. Her partner was the only person she knew who could stand in front of a group of people and say anything - no matter how outrageous - as if he truly and honestly believed it.

Of course most of the time he did believe, though she'd seen him sprout the most incredible bullshit and get away with it - even to Skinner.

Scully frowned and sipped her drink again.

How did he get away with it?

Scully chewed the straw and thought hard. Why hadn't she ever considered this before?

Why did he have a nameplate and she didn't? Why did he have a designated piece of furniture to work with and she didn't? She turned around in her seat and glared at Chris Carter. Mulder had been his favourite from the beginning; you didn't have to be a rocket scientist to work that one out. She recalled something she had read in The Official Guide the other night, and began tapping her fingernails on the table.

*Mulder* had been Chris Carter's mother's maiden name. *Scully* was the name of a baseball announcer Carter had idolised while growing up. Not too damn hard to figure where she ranked in the scheme of things.

A baseball announcer.

Then there was his office. Even when she had first joined him in the basement, it had been a horrific mess. Scully liked things neat. When she once tried to clean his desk or re-organise the filing cabinets, he had given her a cold look and told her to leave things as they were. This was *his* office, she recalled him saying, and he had no problem with the filing system or evident clutter. This was his area, his domain, his territory. It had almost become a battlefield, front lines and mines carefully placed to elude detection. But they both knew they were there, and trod carefully.

And then there was the door. Special Agent Fox Mulder's name written alone on the nameplate. He also had one on his desk, the white letters...

Scully slammed her drink onto the table. "Mulder?" she asked sweetly.

"Please welcome Kelsey Grammer and Cybill Shepherd!" the announcer's voice drowned out Mulder's response and Scully fell silent.

A man and a woman walked onstage hand in hand and went to the microphone.

"Good evening. Five wonderful performers grace this category."

"Here are the nominees for best performance by an actress in a television series drama."

Connie gave Scully a look and she sat up straighter in her seat. Mulder adjusted the collar of his tux and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He stole a glance at Scully; she looked apprehensive and he didn't blame her.

"Gillian Anderson for The X-Files."

Scully placed her purse on the table and smiled as applause swelled around her. Mulder smiled and looked at her expectantly. Scully pondered for a moment and finally returned the smile.

"Christine Lahti for Chicago Hope, Heather Locklear for Melrose Place, Jane Seymour for Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman and Sherry Springfield for ER."

"And the winner is... Gillian Anderson for The X-Files."

Scully closed her eyes for a second and smiled, swallowed and got up from the table. As the spotlight fell on her she saw Mulder in front of her, on his feet and applauding. She met his eyes, smiling, as she reached him, kissed him quickly and headed toward the stage. Scully teetered slightly as she reached the steps and accepted the arm of her escort as she walked up the stairs. She kissed Grammer and Shepherd and made her way to the microphone. Scully glanced down at her cards for a second and smiled awkwardly.

"Um...um..." Scully laughed for a second and hid her cards behind her back. "I want to thank my daughter Piper. I want to thank...um..." Scully paused for a second to gather her thoughts. "I want to thank the writers John Shiban, Frank Spotnitz, Vince Gilligan, Howard Gordon. The directors Rob Bowman, Kim Manners, Bob Goodwin executive producer. Most of all I would like to thank the mother of all creators Chris Carter..." Her voice trailed for a second as members of the audience applauded. "...for having the foresight and sensibility to create, to introduce into our lives a character, a woman who is strong, intelligent, equal opportunity, employed..." Scully's eyes met Mulder's as light laughter began. "and... um... she has had a profound impact on women young and not-so-young around the world because of those positive characteristics and... um... I thank you for that... um... and many other people do too I'm sure."

Scully smiled at Carter and took a deep breath, watching as the room wavered in front of her. "Thank-you for allowing me to have the opportunity to spend this time with her and for being a component of this amazing, magical, historical odyssey that you have created. Thank-you."

Turning she let the escort lead her offstage.

"The nominees for best performance by an actor in a television series drama are George Clooney for ER, David Duchovny for The X-Files..."

Mulder pursed his lips and clapped nervously. He caught sight of Scully standing in the wings of the stage and he licked his lips. He suddenly hoped, desperately, that Duchovny's name would be called. For his sake as well Duchovny's. Should they make it back to their own universe, she'd forever be dropping hints about this ceremony and which one of them received a Golden Globe. Surely Duchovny and Anderson's acting abilities had nothing to do with who was the better character. Mulder detested thinking of himself and Scully as characters, but in this universe he had no choice. If Gillian Anderson won and David Duchovny lost he'd never hear the end of it. Mulder eyed the empty bottle of alcohol beside his partner's glass and wondered if she'd even remember much by morning.

"...Anthony Edwards for ER, Lance Henriksen for Millenium and Jimmy Smits for NYPD Blue."

And the winner is... David Duchovny for The X-Files."

Mulder was on his feet immediately, a smile spreading across his face as he caught sight of Carter and the 1013 Production staff applauding wildly. He hurried up the steps to the stage, received the Globe and went to the microphone.

"Oh, everything Gillian said except gender-flipped..." As the audience laughed, Mulder waited a beat and spoke again. "Um...I was here about seven years ago, I wasn't nominated... I wasn't even working. I was a guest of my manager, Melanie Green, who in turn was a guest of Michelle Pfeiffer and David Kelley and I never dreamed that I'd be up here six or seven years later holding one of these things and the oddest thing about the memory is that we had better seats on that night..."

Mulder noticed Scully holding her own Globe only a few feet away from him, laughing along with the audience. He smiled as he remembered her speech, the way she had been intimidated by the audience and the bright lights. He also remembered someone she had forgotten to thank and his smile grew. "I want to thank Chris Carter who's a friend, a mentor, a mensch, who..who's written the best show on television. Everybody in Vancouver that works so hard, works their asses off or as they say up there their arses. Gillian Anderson, the best co-star anybody could have..."

"Shit!" Scully said loudly to no-one in particular, remembering that she had forgotten to thank Duchovny during her speech. She felt a blush colour her cheeks and she turned away in embarrassment.

"All the writers, my beautiful bookends, Melanish...ah Melanie Green and Reesa Shapiro, Perrey Reeves for making the first two and a half years bearable and...um Happy Birthday Mom...tomorrow."

Scully stepped forward as Mulder approached her, grinning. She squeezed his arm for a brief moment and returned the smile. "Sometimes you surprise me, Mulder."

"Why is that?" he asked, holding the Golden Globe at arm's length and admiring the sleek marble exterior. He ran a hand over the shimmering orb and caught sight of himself in one of the huge mirrors outside the Press room. If only Skinner could see them now...

"How you remembered that David Duchovny's mother's birthday is tomorrow, the names of your 'beautiful bookends'..." Scully's voice faltered and she gave him a curious look. "Who *is* Perrey Reeves, Mulder? By the sound of your voice you sounded sincere when you thanked her."

"Why?" Mulder's voice was suddenly tight.

"I don't know," Scully said, a thoughtful look on her face. "Wasn't that David's old girlfriend? The one that was in some episode ..."

"Gillian, I'll meet you inside in a moment." Mulder said loudly, as they approached the thick glass doors. There were many photographers, reporters and camera crews waiting inside to interview and photograph the winners and Scully gulped.

"Mulder, you're rushing me into the room."

"No I'm not."

"Hey Gillian - over here." A clutch of cameras called her.

He left Scully posing for photographs with her Golden Globe and went to wait backstage.

-------------------------------

Jane Curtain and Ted Danson were onstage by the time Mulder arrived. He squinted and saw that Chris Carter had shredded his entire 1997 Golden Globe Awards booklet into little strips of paper. The mother of all creators - Mulder had no idea where the hell Scully had gotten that from - looked extremely nervous as Ted Danson began to speak. "Here are the nominees for Best Television Series Drama: Chicago Hope, ER, NYPD Blue, Party of Five, The X-Files."

By the time the clip from 'Tunguska' had finished, Mulder was disgusted. Of *course* Carter had submitted a clip in which both he and Scully looked like hell. Mulder shifted from foot to foot in anticipation.

"And the winner is... The X-Files."

Mulder grinned as Carter and his crew headed onstage, amidst the applause of the audience. Carter, naturally, was first onstage, gleefully accepting the award from Danson. He caught sight of Mulder standing offstage and shot him an elated smile. When Carter noticed that the members of his production company were still streaming toward the stage, he stepped forward.

"Takes a lot of people to make a TV show..." Carter cleared his throat slightly as the audience laughed. "I want to thank all these men behind me who have given so much of their lives and Gillian Anderson, who I don't see and..."

Mulder had to admit Carter was smooth. He joined the others onstage and spotted Frank Spotnitz looking jubilant. Mulder moved next to him and patted his cheek. "I told you we could do it." Mulder whispered.

Carter continued: "I want to thank the producers on the show, the writers on the show, our unsung directors on the show. I want to thank our families who never see us and I want to thank...ah... my wonderful cast. I'm twice blessed. Thank you very much."

-----------------------------

 11.35pm
Portland Oregon

Gillian watched the woman resettle the whimpering baby in her arms and sympathised. She remembered how fussy Piper would get at that age being in the noise and light of an airport. Even the quieter confines of the VIP lounge were still too distracting for a small child. She thanked her lucky stars that she had decided against bringing her daughter on the trip to LA this time. She couldn't begin to imagine what would have happened if Piper been with her. Not that she didn't doubt Scully's ability to look after her daughter ... it would have been just too much. She hoped Clyde had kept her busy so she didn't notice that her mommy hadn't called.

David leaned against the window and watched Gillian's reflection. She was watching the woman and the baby. He knew she was thinking about Piper <don't worry Gillian, we'll be home soon enough>. He wouldn't admit it to her but that silly Peter Pan theory had cured any doubts he'd had. They would get back. Hell, he'd even welcome the return to the 14 hour days - at least it was normal. He smiled and reminded himself that Mulder would probably have considered the last two days normal. In a weird way he had enjoyed the experience - some of it at least. The thing that had surprised him most was how easy it had been to slip into 'Muldermode' when it was needed. Like he'd told Gillian back when they first landed - if you just imagine yourself on the set and they're filming it was easy. Too easy. <Time for some changes >.

------------------------

Gillian dragged her thoughts back to the present and looked around the lounge. Now that the adventure had almost ended she was calm. David was standing gazing out the window, a ' lost in my own private world' look on his face. She sighed lightly - she had been a bit hard on him the last couple of days. He had family back home too, and it wasn't his fault all this had happened.

She turned and looked back around the lounge and smiled. In the taxi ride from the motel they'd speculated as to why Mulder and Scully were travelling first class. Between them they had come up with the theory that it was all part of a plot by Cancerman to capture the agents. The first class seats had been the Smoking Man's treat - a last grasp of luxury before being spirited away and their organs and DNA harvested to breed the next generation of public servants - ones that would do the job with scientific accuracy and still believe everything they were told.

//Flight 549. Now boarding at Gate 10" "Flight 549 to Washington DC. Now boarding."//

  Duchovny bent and grabbed the bag at his feet and quickly crossed to Anderson's side. He reached out and added her hand luggage to his load and silently motioned for her to lead the way.

As they neared the gateway Gillian stopped suddenly causing David to almost run into her back. He followed the turn of her head.

Cancer Man stood a short distance away, the smoke of his Morley swirling past the No Smoking sign he blatantly ignored beside him. When he saw that he had their attention he raised cigarette and hand in a farewell salute. Duchovny nodded a half smile in response.

Gillian found herself smiling and looked up to David. Duchovny smiled back and gestured with his head to the Gate.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

-----------------------------

The 'Fasten Your Seatbelt' light had finally blinked off. Gillian loosened her belt and captured the attention of the attendant. She requested two glasses of water then turned to David

He had taken Mulder's journal from his bag and was flipping through the pages.

"I thought you'd finished."

David looked up from page, the overhead light turning his glasses opaque. "Just checking that I got everything. I might add a last few words about seeing Cancer Man at the airport."

"Do you think that's necessary?"

"Maybe not but.." he shrugged.

When the attendant returned with the water she handed his glass. From her pocket she removed the two sleeping pills David had sweet talked from the girl in the Airport Drug store. She swallowed one quickly with water and held the other out to Duchovny.

"We have to be asleep for this to work, " she said before tilting the seat back and closing her eyes.

Duchovny continued for read for a while longer.

A soft snuffling noise beside him alerted him that Gillian was drifting into sleep and he glanced across at her. There were traces of dark under her eyes and the weariness and drama of the last few days had paled her skin even further. He recalled the scenes they had been shooting a week or so before and he watched her for a long moment, then pulled out a pen and returned to the journal.

A few minutes later he closed the book and picking up the spare tablet tossed it back dry. Mulder's journal still resting in his lap he leant back in his seat and closed his eyes, placing his hand over Gillian's where it rested on the armrest. She murmured something in response and twisted her hand to clasp his.

10 minutes later both were sound asleep.

----------------------------

 LA Airport
11.35pm.

Scully winced slightly at the child's whimper. She looked over to the woman trying to soothe the fussing baby. Normally she'd sympathise with anyone forced to travel with a child at this time of the night, but not tonight. Not with the mussy pounding that was threatening her head. One thing she'd learnt from this little adventure - expensive champagne gave her the same kind of headache as the cheap stuff.

She also realised she was beginning to come down from the high winning the Golden Globe award had given her. She reached out and plucked the statuette from the table in front of her, fingers tracing over the inscription again. Sure, it was actually Gillian's prize but if you applied some kind of weird Mulder logic she had just as much right to claim it - after all Anderson had won it for being her and no-one was better at playing Scully than Scully herself. <That makes a real lot of sense Dana> she told herself as she replaced the statue on the table.

Mulder leaned against the window and watched Scully's reflection. She was examining that award statue again. She seemed to be fascinated by it. <But then I guess when she joined the FBI she never expected to win a Best Actress award>. He glanced down at the bag at his feet, his...Duchovny's...award was inside. <Neither did you>. One tiny irrational part of him wished he could keep the statue. Take it home and show his mother; stand it on his desk and let it bug the hell out of Skinner; a reminder that in one universe people cared what happened to him.

That was the one thing had surprised and scared him most about this adventure into TV land. The Fans.

He understood the concept of fandom - he had had his own television idols growing up and he could still rattle off intricate details about the characters in Star Trek but nothing to the level of dedication these X-Philes had. They had websites devoted to his glasses for god's sake! Hell, even Skinner and Alex Krycek had fan clubs!! When you were as paranoid as he was, knowing that a small nation's worth of people were scrutinizing your every move was down right terrifying. He closed his eyes against the thought. Just too weird. He wasn't saying the last couple of days hadn't been fun - snuggling up to Scully a couple of times was a definite highlight - but he just wanted to get his life back to normal....or at least what passed for normal around him.

Scully turned her head seeking Mulder. He was standing by the window, a ' lost in my own private world' look on his face. She sighed lightly - she had been a bit hard on him earlier. It wasn't his fault all this had happened. Mulder attracted weirdness like honey called bees. If she was going to be honest with herself, this had been one of the more pleasant incidents. The last few hours especially - once they gotten through the interviews. She had never appreciated Mulder's easy wit more than during when dealing with persistent reporters. At the party afterwards they had been separated. She smiled in memory...Chris Carter nearly had an apoplexy every time some one approached her or Mulder. A couple of times she thought she might have to administer CPR. She'd kept an eye on Mulder - but he seemed to be quite comfortable - chatting amicably with the other guests and posing for pictures. He appeared to be enjoying himself ....she frowned <maybe too much....> he'd spend a lot of time in a corner talking to that blonde.

She just wanted to get on the plane close her eyes and hopefully wake up in DC. She watched the mother murmur softly to the baby and prayed Mulder's theory was correct

//Flight 549. Now boarding at Gate 10" "Flight 549 to Vancouver. Now boarding."//

Mulder bent and grabbed the bag at his feet and quickly crossed to Scully's side. He reached out and added her hand luggage to his load and silently motioned for her to lead the way.

As they neared the gateway Scully slowed and turned slightly to nudge Mulder. He followed the turn of her head.

Chris Carter and a few of his minions stood a short distance away. When he saw them he gave them the thumbs up. Dana found herself smiling and looked up at Mulder. He smiled back and gestured with his head to the Gate.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

-----------------------------

The 'Fasten Your Seatbelt' light had finally blinked off. Scully loosened her belt and captured the attention of the attendant. She requested two glasses of water then turned to Mulder.

He had taken the copy of the X-Files episode guide from his bag and was flipping through the pages, pausing now and then to scribble something in the margins.

"What are you doing Mulder?"

Mulder looked from the pages, his glasses reflecting the overhead light.

"Just making a few corrections."

Scully looked down at the open book and blinked in disbelief. Leaning closer she read what he had written, even reaching over to turn back a few pages. A giggle threatened and escaped with one glance at her 'oh so innocent' partner.

"Mulder, even if he sees it - do you really think Carter will believe it?"

"Probably not, but then again......." Mulder grinned evilly, " The need to mess with their minds Scully.....it's very addictive".

The attendant returned and handed them each a glass of water. From her pocket Scully retrieved the sleeping pills Chris had given them.

"I'm not so sure about this Mulder; sleeping pills on top of champagne - what if they interact?"

Mulder took a pill from her hand and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it dry. "So much the better. "

He took her hand in his and gently kissed it, "See ya back in the real world Scully." He tilted back his seat and closed his eyes.

Taking the book from his lap she quietly read through his footnotes, her smile increasing with each entry. <Mulder, you are a bastard> she thought approvingly.

A soft snuffling noise beside her signalled his descent into sleep, and she glanced across at him. Now that the adventure was almost ended she was free to let her mind over all the possibilities these past few days had revealed. Whether she ever explored those possibilities remained a question - but still it was nice to have a face for those fantasies. She quickly swallowed her tablet and settled back in her seat and closed her eyes, reaching out to take Mulder's hand as it rested on the armrest. He muttered something sleepily and twisted her hand to clasp his.

10 minutes later both were sound asleep.

 ********************************************

------------------------

Fate, Chance, Kismet. Three words, one meaning.

Across immeasurable distances they clashed and melded.

Neither the sleeping agents or their acting counterparts felt the ripple as time and space wavered and shimmered for one brief electric moment before snapping back into place.

------------------------------

 Later...much later:
Somewhere above ??????.

A light vibration shivered up her arm and muddied her slumber.

"Miss, Miss....MISS!"

Scully snapped awake.

Blinking befuddedly she rubbed her eyes and focused on the impossibly bright person.

"umphf.." she said intelligently as she took in the surroundings.

"We will be landing in 30 minutes. Could you please return to your seat to the upright position? And if you have to...you know...now would be a good time."

Scully 's tongue tasted of rain matted fur but nevertheless she smiled back as best she could and shook her head. From the pleased response she figured she looked better than she felt.

As the attendant went to wake Mulder she stalled him with a shake of her head and a softly spoken "I'll do it."

Gently she shook him awake.

"umphf....errr...Scully " Mulder blinked and shook himself like a dozing mutt.

"Wake up Mulder - we're almost there."

Mulder looked around and down. The plane looked the same and he was in the outfit he had been wearing when they left Portland.

"Scully!" he whispered.

Scully patted his arm reassuringly and pointed to the book in his lap.

<Thank be!> His journal...he'd recognise it anywhere. He looked back up at Scully, "Are you sure?!"

"There's one way to find out," said Scully. She leaned into the aisle, capturing the attention of the flight attendant a few seats away. Smiling her best and girlish she said, "I think we will take advantage of the facilities after all - how long do we have?"

"Approximately 20 minutes." The flight attendant paused, looked up and down the aisle then leaned in conspiratorially, "Actually it's more like 40 minutes - there's always a hold up coming into Dulles."

Darren Judd would never know what it was he did to earn the smile Scully gave him that day, but 10 years later when he was head of customer services he would always use it as a gauge - "If they smile at you like you've painted a rainbow, given birth to their child, saved their lives, made the sun shine brighter and cleaned that unsightly mould from the back of their fridge all in one day - then! you know you've done a good job"

Scully came back to their seats to find Mulder shaking his head and chuckling softly at the book resting in his lap.

"What's up?" She said leaning over to note yesterday's date at the top of the page and the lines of almost familiar writing.

"Duchovny has done us a favour - he's written down everything that happened to them in Portland."

Leaning closer Scully turned the pages and read.

Eyebrows raised to the skies she smiled, "Do you think any of it is true?"

Mulder grinned, "Knowing our record?! Of course. According to this Gillian has written up her own version on your laptop."

"So....should what do we tell Skinner?"

"Good question.... How about the truth?"

Both gave the question serious thought for a moment before matching each other in wicked grins.

"Nahh!"

------------------------

In all it was another 45 minutes before they were cleared to leave the plane. Collecting their bags and throwing them onto a couple of trolleys they headed for the gates; Scully anxious to get home, take a long bath and call her mom for the latest family gossip. Mulder wondered if he had anything resembling food in his fridge and whether or not he had fish to feed....the two tended to get confused at times.

"AGENT SCULLY! MULDER!"

Both shot to attention at the sound of Skinner's bark.

The A.D. almost...but not quite...skid to a stop in front of them.

As usual he didn't waste time, "Just off the record...before things get official...and before I have to…" He emphasised the words, ".. *de-prioritise it* as per instructions, would you two like to explain to me what the fuck you've been up to??"

She didn't see it because it wasn't there to see, but Scully acknowledged the wink her partner glanced her and smiled back as Mulder launched into one of convoluted, confusing and confronting non-answers he was know for.

Life was back to normal.

----------------------------

 Later...much later:
Somewhere above ????

A light vibration shivered up his arm and muddied his slumber.

"Sir, Sir...SIR!"

David snapped awake.

Blinking befuddedly he rubbed his eyes and focused on the impossibly bright person.

"umphf.." he said intelligently as he took in his surroundings.

"We will be landing in 30 minutes sir. Could you please return to your seat to the upright position? And if you have to...you know...now would be a good time."

David tasted the carpet he knew had formed on his tongue but nevertheless smiled back as best he could and shook his head. From the pleased response he gathered the line shag pile was only in his mind.

As she went to wake Gillian he stalled her with a shake of his head and a softly spoken "I'll do it."

Gently he shook her awake.

"umphf....errr... David?" Gillian blinked and shook herself like a startled cat.

"Wake up Gill - we're almost there."

Gillian looked around and down. The plane looked the same and she was in the same pants and sweater she had been wearing when she left Portland.

"David!" she whispered frightenedly.

David patted her arm reassuringly and plucked the book from her lap and held it up. The dark cover and the words 'Trust No One' did wonders for her morale.

"Are you sure?!" she whispered.

"There's one way to find out," said David. He leaned into the aisle, capturing the attention of the flight attendant a few seats away. Smiling his best and boyish he said, "I think we will take advantage of the facilities after all - how long do we have?"

"Approximately 20 minutes sir." She paused, looked up and down the aisle then leaned in conspiratorially, "Actually it's more like 40 minutes - there's a bit of a glitch with one of the planes ahead - nothing serious mind you - it just means we will have to circle Vancouver for a bit longer

Suzanne Cenezam would never know what it was she did to deserve it but she would bask in the memory of David and Gillian's smiles for the rest of her life.

Gillian came back to their seats to find David chuckling over the copy of Trust No One.

"I know Brian Lowry is supposed to have made a few mistakes but they weren't that bad."

"It's not Lowry I'm laughing at - it's Mulder." He handed her the book pointing out the scribbled comments in the margins.

Within a few minutes Gillian was smiling and giggling , "Do you think any of it is true?"

David just shrugged, "Who knows, you have to admit some of it makes more sense than the ideas our writers have come up with."

"So....should we tell Chris?"

"Good question."

Both appeared to give the question serious thought for a moment before matching each other in wicked grins.

"Yeahh!"

-------------------------

 In all it was another 45 minutes before they had been cleared to leave the plane. Collecting their bags and throwing them onto a couple of trolleys they made their way through the gates.

<Thank God!> Each thought seeing the familiar surroundings of Vancouver Airport. All either wanted to do was go home and sleep away the last few days, and in Gillian's case hug the stuffing out of her daughter.

"David!! Gillian!!" Tom Braidwood rushed up to them, hugging first Gillian and then David with an enthusiasm and strength that belied the man's stature.

"Whoa! Calm down Tom....I like to breathe you know." David pushed him away laughing, "Now that's how you should have greeted me when you found out Mulder was still alive back at the beginning of last season."

Tom laughed, "Sorry but everyone's just so excited - they all wanted to come out but I figured you'd be too tired to deal with a crowd so I promised I give you a sufficiently enthusiastic welcome. Man! It's unbelievable!! The show, the both of you!" Tom dived in to give Gillian another killer hug.

<shit!!> thought David. He'd totally forgotten about the awards. While Tom rapped onto Gillian about the dress * she'd * worn, he quickly grabbed his carry-on bag and unzipped it.

White marble and gold metal gleamed up at him.

<Oh god....I won...shit! I WON!!> David looked up and grinned happily to Gillian, <We both won...we all won>.

Tom had grabbed Gillian's trolley and steered it towards the exit. He was still going on about the awards, something about Gill forgetting his name and the fans going hot over a kiss.

David zipped up the bag and pushed against the trolley, inhaling and exhaling deeply, taking it all in. He stuck a hand in a pocket of his black leather jacket <his jacket this time...not Mulder's>, his fingers drawing out a crumple of papers covered with his...Mulder's...handwriting. <Cue cards> he realised reading the notes. Mulder must have cleared them from the pocket when he changed from his tux before the flight. Flipping through them he noted names, dates, likes and dislikes. Things Mulder must have learned about him in the past few day. He was willing to bet Gillian had a similar set of cards somewhere in her baggage. <Mmmm...what's this?> The back of one card was scrawled in a different hand. A phone number and the word tea, <I wonder that's about?> He shoved the cards back in his pocket, making a mental note to try the number and find out what it meant.

"Hey! That reminds me..." Tom paused, one hand on the door to the outside world, "Chris rang just as I was leaving and said to make sure you two are you otherwise we are in deep shit??? What the hell is he on?"

Grinning across at her co-star Gillian just chuckled, "Nothing Tom... private joke....when you call him back just tell him 'we are who we think we are'".

--------------------------

 EPILOGUE

"pannnnt...gaspp...mooaanonn...oh bay-be!!"

Fox Mulder hit the off button on his remote. The tape was boring. Been there. Done that. Posed for the photos.

His eyes strayed for the 15th time to the leather journal plunked perilously on the edge of his desk.

Once again he offered thanks to his Hollywood counterpart. He knew Skinner didn't believe the tale he and Scully had concocted from Duchovny and Anderson's reports, but he had at least allowed them the courtesy of listening.

The A.D had learned not to look below the surface of their reports. The official ones *and* the off-the-record ones.

Skinner's acceptance of this incident was a little surprising. He was tempted to ask what Skinner meant about 'instructions' but he figured it had something to do with Duchovny's meeting with the Cigarette Smoking Man, and there were some things he really didn't need to know.

His eyes strayed back to the journal.

<Damn!>

He snatched the book and flipped straight to the last page and read for the thousandth time:

Did we make you run to your video collection and drag out that copy of the 97 Golden Globes, just to see how well it was transcribed? Did you get the ending? (hint: watch Memento Mori again).

---------------------------------------------------------

END NOTES:

A few comments from friends (and strangers) who read this story during its gestation has prompted me to add these few words of explanation.

1) Yes, I do know that DD played a DEA agent in Twin Peaks, but Brian Lowry has him down as an FBI agent and it is his book that Mulder gets the information.

2) Yes, I do know that DD has never attended a fan convention. But Mulder didn't know that and you can't blame CC for exploiting it.

3) Yes, I am aware that Gillian doesn't drink and she smokes -two things that should have clued CC in from day one. References to such were lost in Edit #42. Mourn briefly.

4) Yes, we did play fast and loose with various real life events such as the US photo shoot and the start of DD's relationship with Tea, but you liked the inclusion didn't you? <g>

5) Neither Marissa or I have been to Portland or LA. The information on these cities was obtained on the net or in our imaginations.

6) The story Amanda Pays tells about her run-in with a fan in London is a complete fabrication and the product of my own crazed little mind.

7) The Henry the VIII movie mentioned comes from the twisted imagination of my workmate Amanda. Hopefully it will not inspire anyone.

8) I came this close " " to a trans-dimensional glitch that left Dana and Gillian in their respective non-universes. But that would have meant sequel and I can't handle the anxiety <g>

9) All mistakes were intentional ;-)

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Sally-Ann
salian@eisa.net.au

"It's not voyeurism…it's research"