Title: Mirror, Mirror (1/1) Author: aka "Jake" Rating: PG-13 (just a couple of bad words) Classification: X (X-File); R (M&S, of course) Spoilers: vague references to Small Potatoes, Triangle, Dreamland, Millennium Summary: Okay, boys and girls, get your minds set for some extreme "extreme possibilities." I'm talking Triangle here. I'm talking Dreamland. I'm talking Small Potatoes. No spoilers, just an attitude. Consider this a fairy tale of sorts. "It's like looking in a mirror." -- Mulder to Scully in "Rain King" Disclaimer: The characters Fox Mulder, Dana and Scully are the property of Chris Carter, FOX and 1013 Productions. No copyright infringement intended. This is for fun, not profit. MIRROR, MIRROR By aka "Jake" Royal Street Antique Shop Portland, Maine "This is it. This is the place, Scully." Mulder cupped his hands around his eyes and peered into the shop's front window. Scully waited on the sidewalk, squinting into the afternoon sun. She watched a group of tourists enjoying ice cream cones on the pier across the street. The ocean sparkled blue and bright beyond them. Mulder tried the knob. The old door swung inward. A tinny bell tinkled overhead when he entered the shop. At the sound, Scully turned away from the view of the bay to follow after Mulder. Mulder sauntered through the shop, passing stacks of pricey collectibles and anything-for-a-dollar yard sale trash. Like a kid in a candy store, his eyes flitted from one curiousity to the next. His palms stroked every surface, creating a waffling path in the thick layer of dust. "You're sure this is the place?" Scully asked, strolling along behind him, taking care not to topple any of the first edition books, mismatched china or yellowed Christening robes. She paused to stare into the glassy eyes of a taxidermied deer's head. "Yep. Bennu said we would find the amulet hidden inside a small sweetgrass basket -- in *this* antique shop." "Well, there are a bunch of baskets here." She selected one and removed the lid. The basket was empty. "They smell good." Mulder stood at her elbow with a similar basket held beneath his nose. She sniffed at her basket. Fragrant sweetgrass created an attractive pattern in the weave that gave off a pleasant aroma. "You're getting dust on your face," she warned. "So are you." He swiped at her cheek. Batting his hand away, she selected another basket. "Oh! I found it." "For real?" "Isn't this it?" She withdrew a two-and-a-half-inch stone, carved into the shape of a scarab beetle. Light blue in color, the charm fit pleasantly in the palm of her hand. She held it out for him to inspect. "That's it! An Egyptian blue heart scarab." His breath came in soft, excited pants. "What's so special about this...this rock?" "It's more than just a rock, Scully. To the ancient Egyptians, the scarab represented the notion of regeneration and spontaneous creation. Amulets in the form of scarabs were believed to possess great magical energy. They were associated with the mystical forces of the gods. Considering its power, the value of this amulet is...well, it's priceless!" He lifted the stone from her hand. She squinted at the price tag glued to its underside. "It's marked down to fifty cents, Mulder." Eyebrows shooting up, he flipped the object over to inspect the tag. "Well, one man's trash..." His slanting grin inched upward. "Quick, Scully, let's pay for it and get out of here." "It doesn't look like anyone's around." She swiveled, searching for the shopkeeper. "So, drop a couple of quarters on the counter and let's go." He closed his fingers possessively around the amulet. Digging into her pocket, she produced a one-dollar bill. "I don't have change." "This is no time to scrimp, Scully," he said and then mouthed the word "priceless." "Fine. Consider it an early birthday present. Give me the tag." He peeled the tiny sticker from the scarab. She stuck it on her dollar and walked to the counter where she left the money. Turning to go, she noticed a tall mirror in the back corner of the shop. "Hold on, Mulder. I want to check my face for dust." She picked her way through piles of traveling trunks, 1920s sheet music, Depression Era oak chairs, and ratty raccoon coats to the full-length mirror standing at the back wall. Adjusting its angle, she tilted the glass to get a better look at herself. Sure enough, there was dust on her face. She licked one fingertip and scrubbed at the smudges on her nose and chin. "Here, use this." Mulder joined her in front of the mirror and offered her his handkerchief. She took it, silently marveling at the fact he actually carried something as old fashioned as a handkerchief. Wiping the dust from her face, she said, "You could use this, too." She passed the handkerchief back to him. He peered into the mirror and swabbed the end of his nose. "Better?" He allowed her to inspect his face. "All clean." Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, they rechecked themselves in the mirror. Their twin images stared back at them with spotless faces. "Ready?" she asked. "Yep." Mulder pocketed the handerchief and the stone scarab, then led the way back through the shop. The bell tinkled once again when he opened the door. "How about an ice cream?" he asked aa they sauntered out onto the sunny street. A finger of sunlight arrowed through the door before it swung shut. It flashed off the mirror at the back of the shop. When the door finally closed, the light blinked out and the images of Mulder and Scully stepped calmly from the glass, crossing the mirror's threshold as if the two agents had merely walked in from an adjoining room. "Ready?" Scully asked. "Yep." Mulder placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her from the shop. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ FBI Headquarters Washington, DC Twelve Hours Later "That was the flight from hell," Scully grumbled, dragging her dog-tired feet down the hall to their office. "It would have been faster to drive." "Didn't seem too bad to me." "I don't know how you can sleep on those bumpy little commuter flights, Mulder." "Me either...the way you were gripping my arm." "I never touched you." "No? Hmm. I must've been dreaming. Could've sworn you dug your nails into me when that giant donut-shaped UFO landed on the Washington Monument--" "That's enough, Agent Freud Mulder." Scully fumbled with her key and discovered the door wasn't locked. "Mulder, it's...it's open." His smile faded and he gestured for her to stand back. He placed an ear against the door. "Someone's inside," he mouthed, and drew his gun. He positioned himself to one side of the doorframe; she stood on the other. He flung the door open. Nothing happened. They peered around the jamb. Their eyebrows climbed to their hairlines when they saw twin versions of themselves already inside. Mulder blinked at his look-alike, sitting in his chair, with one hand in his file cabinet, and the other holding his official FBI coffee mug up to his...well...to familiar lips. "Van Blundht?" "I'm not Eddie Van Blundht!" Mulder's double rose from the chair with a scowl. Scully watched her twin nod in woeful agreement. "Um...Morris Fletcher maybe?" The Mulder-twin shook his head and placed his fists on his hips. Scully was no less surprised to find her own doppelganger with fingers poised over her keyboard typing up field notes on her computer at her desk. Her desk! She'd waited a long time to get that desk! She strode past Mulder into the room. Circling her desk, she leveled unblinking eyes at her twin. The seated Scully returned her stare. Four skeptical pupils shrank to goaded pinpoints in a wash of blue-gray. The men appeared to forget their indignant anger, curious to watch the women's standoff. Edging ever closer to her twin, Scully bristled. Mulder smiled. In anticipation? Of what? She shot him an angry glare. He glanced at his grinning double. The smiles vanished from both the men's faces. "Who are you?" Scully challenged her look-alike. "I could ask you the same question. Imposter." "I'm not an imposter! Get away from my desk." "This is *my* desk. I earned it and...and I have the tattoo to prove it." The Scully-twin stood, hesitated a moment, and then hiked up the back of her blouse, exposing her tattoo. The Mulders exchanged nervous glances. "I have a tattoo, too." Scully tugged her blouse from her waistband to reveal the same mark on her own back. "Um...Scully, may I take a closer look at that tattoo?" Mulder asked, earning him a scowl from both the Scullys. "Er...the tattoos aren't quite the same." "What do mean?" Both Scullys spun to get a view of each other's backs, only making it impossible for them to see anything at all. Mulder approached Scully and bent to inspect the ouroborus on her back. "Humph," he grunted in a noncommittal way. Twirling his finger, he motioned the Scully-double to turn around. Reluctantly, she presented him with her backside. He leaned close to study the snake devouring its own tail on her lower back. "That's odd," he mumbled. "What? What's the matter?" Scully demanded. "One snake is chasing its tail clockwise. The other snake is circling counterclockwise." The Scullys craned to get a view over their own shoulders. "He's right," the Mulder-double said, stepping closer and tracing Scully's snake with the tip of his finger. "Don't touch me, you...you...fake Mulder," she snapped. He backed away, palms in the air. "Let's settle down and figure this thing out, okay?" the Scully-twin said. Three heads nodded in cautious agreement. With her double still standing, Scully slipped into her own chair and flashed her twin a triumphant smile. The two Mulders, in an effort to claim the room's other seat, nearly collided on their way across the room. They stopped only inches apart. Nose to nose, they inspected each other's pinched brows, pursed lips, and clenched jaws, ending at the matching moles marking opposite sides of their unshaved cheeks. Unable to intimidate the other with their oft-practiced invasion of personal space, they folded their arms across their chests and remained standing. The Scully-twin cleared her throat. "There has to be a reasonable explanation for this situation. The most probable conclusion is that two of you are impostors." "Two of *us?*" Scully asked. "How about the two of you?" "We were here first. We're not the imposters." "The hell you aren't--" "Now hold on," the Mulder-double said. "There's a simple way to find who is actually who." He held up his hand and waggled his fingers. "Fingerprints. Shall we go to the lab?" "Together?" Mulder's eyes widened. He flapped the end of his tie and pointed it at his look-alike's identical wardrobe. "That might be a bit awkward," the Scully-twin agreed. "We'll have to go two at a time." "Since I know who I am, why don't you and your quasi-Mulder friend go first?" Scully suggested to her look-alike. "That's fine with me. The sooner I prove who I am, the sooner we can get the two of you out of our office." "Wait a minute," the Mulder-double objected. "We can't leave them alone in here with all our files and...and stuff. We can't be sure who they are. They could be alien shape-shifters." "Okay, she can go with you," the Scully-twin suggested, "and I'll go with him." She pointed at Mulder. "That way, one of us...uh, each pair of...uh, there will be a real Mulder or a real Scully in this office at all times. Agreed?" "Agreed," Mulder answered quickly before his double had a chance to respond. "I'll go to the lab first and take...er...what the hell should I call you anyway?" he asked the Scully-twin. "Scully." She glowered at him as if the answer were obvious. "No-no-no," Scully objected. "*I'm* Scully. You...you can't be Scully." "Listen, Miss Whomever-The-Hell-You-Are, I'll call myself whatever I damn want." Scully narrowed her eyes and rose from her chair. "I'll call you Dana," Mulder suggested. "Just for today," he hurried to add when the Scully-twin raised an unbelieving eyebrow at him. "Fine. Whatever. Let's just go and get it over with." "I'll be back in a few minutes, Scully." Mulder squeezed her arm, settling her back into her chair. "Don't let...*him*...touch any of my stuff while I'm gone," he warned. He followed "Dana" to the door where he started to place his palm against the small of her back only to quickly pull back and shove his hands into his pockets. They disappeared into the hall. Scully eyeballed Mulder's double. He innocently tilted his head and met her irritated expression with a grin. "So what do you suppose he meant by 'stuff'?" He waggled his brows. "Can it, Mul-- whoever you are." "I'm *Mulder*. Really." His expression turned serious. "Go ahead. Ask me something. Ask me anything. Let me prove to you that I'm who I say I am." She considered his challenge. "Alright," she agreed. "What did you have for breakfast this morning?" "Come on, Scully. Ask me something harder than that." "Oh, can't remember what you had for breakfast?" "I had three eggs over easy, a short stack of pancakes with syrup, four sausages, OJ, and a side of hash browns -- those stringy kind that I like so much. And you...you had fruit and yogurt sprinkled with a few crumbs of tasteless granola dust, just like you always do." "Lucky guess." "Ask me something else then. Something only you and I could know." "Okaaay." She stroked the surface of her desk and mulled the possibilities. "Have you, uh, ever heard me sing, Mulder?" she asked. "Oooh yeah. 'Jeremiah was a bullfrooooog...'" He imitated her tuneless rendition. "Fine. That was an easy one." "Easy one?" "How about this: have I ever heard you sing?" "Uh..." "What? I didn't quite catch the name of that song, 'Mulder.'" "I don't believe I ever sang in your presence." "Wrong answer, Mister Mulder-Not." He looked honestly confused. "Does the theme song from Shaft ring any bells?" she asked. "I never--" "I was there, Mulder...er..." A sigh hissed from her nose. This was exhausting. "How about we just don't talk at all until the others get back." "Fine with me. I'm used to it." She arched an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means exactly what you think it means. We *never* talk, Scully." "Of course we do," she insisted, but shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "No we don't. When was the last time we had a 'heart-to-heart'?" "Uh..." "See? Shit, Scully. I *kissed* you on New Year's Eve and you've never said a damn thing about it." "I don't like where this conversation is going." "Of course you don't. I--" "No more talking. You are *not* my partner and I'm not talking to you anymore." Clearly exasperated, the Mulder-double dropped into a chair, leaned his head back, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Scully pretended not to notice his pout. She busied herself deleting the field report her double had typed into her computer and then began one of her own. * * * "You are sooo right, Dana." Mulder's deep chuckle echoed down the basement hall and spiraled into the office. He was still laughing when he stepped through the door, his palm planted comfortably at the small of Dana's back. Smiling, she finished wiping ink from her fingers and returned his handkerchief. Mulder's cheerfulness vanished at the sight of his double's jealous stare and Scully's shocked expression. "Well?" they asked. "You were right," Dana said to Scully. "The fingerprint analysis showed I am not Dana Scully. At least not the Dana Scully on record here." "And I am the *real* Fox Mulder," Mulder said with a satisfied smile. "But here's the most interesting part. Dana's fingerprints are the exact mirror image of yours, Scully." "How is that possible?" "I don't know." Mulder shook his head. "But the fact remains. And I suspect we're going to find out that his fingerprints are the mirror image of mine as well. Notice, they're both left handed." The Mulder-double flexed the fingers of his left hand and scowled. "So what do we do?" Scully asked. "We can't have two Scullys and two Mulders." "Definitely not." Mulder eyeballed his counterpart. "One of us is going back to wherever he came from." "I'm not going anywhere." The Mulder-double took a step forward and both men stiffened. They placed identical fists on identical hips exposing identical SIG Sauers holstered on opposite sides of their bodies. "Quit the alpha male posturing, Mulder...and Mulder. We're all a little on edge. We need to stay cool. We need to figure out what's happened." The Scully-twin joined the Mulder-double and gave his arm a squeeze of encouragement. "What do you propose we do?" "Well, as far as we know, there were only two of us here this morning, so it's probably safe to assume that something happened during the day today that caused this...this... whatever this is," the Scully-twin said. "The trouble is, we seem to share the same memories, so it may be difficult to pinpoint the exact causal event." "I suspect it has something to do with this." Mulder produced the scarab-shaped stone from his pocket and placed it in plain view on Scully's desk. "I remember buying an amulet, too." The Mulder-double thrust his hands into his own pockets. A look of concern crossed his face. He fumbled more deeply. "But I...I don't seem to have one now." He pulled the pockets of his pants inside out to demonstrate they were empty. "Just what is that thing, Mulder?" Scully pointed to the amulet. "It's a--" both Mulders began at once. "Do you mind?" Mulder asked. His twin shrugged and, with exaggerated politeness, extended a palm. Mulder began again, "It's an object ritually charged with power to attract a specific force or energy to its bearer. It's a charm. This scarab--" "This scarab possesses potent magical properties," the Mulder-double interrupted. "Like I told you earlier, Scully...er..." He looked from Scully to Dana, shook his head and then continued, "The Egyptians associated the scarab with renewal, rebirth, and resurrection. The scarab was a symbol of spontaneous creation." His words hung in the air as the four agents traded squinty looks. "So, what are you saying? This amulet...charm...whatever, somehow initiated the spontaneous creation of our mirror images? I don't need to tell you how impossible that sounds," Scully said. "Scully, I think the scarab somehow worked in tandem with that old mirror in the antique shop," Mulder said. "I haven't quite figured out how...but it's the only possible explanation." "Can the process be reversed?" "We're certainly going to find out." "Hey, wait a minute! Maybe we don't want to reverse it," the Mulder-double protested. "You think you can just...poof...make us disappear? Maybe we happen to like it here." "Let's find out more about the process before we make any hasty decisions about who goes and who stays. Okay?" the Scully-twin suggested. "Fine." "Whatever." "Mulder, why don't you and I visit your friend Bennu? He's the one who led us to this amulet-thing in the first place. Maybe he can tell us more about its powers," Scully said. "What about them?" Mulder asked, jerking his thumb toward the look-alikes. "Dana and...Fox...they can interview Dr. Stephen Richards, conservator at the National Museum of African Art. He might have some useful information about Egyptian charms. Agreed?" They all nodded. "Since it's three in the morning, I suggest we go home, get some sleep, and start fresh in the morning," Scully said. "Any objections?" "Not from me," her twin answered, stifling a yawn. "Me either," the Mulder-double agreed. "This has been one hell of a weird day, even for us. I just want to go home, stretch out on my couch, and do a little channel surfing before drifting into dreamland." "Not in my apartment, you won't." "It's *my* apartment." "I don't think so." "No?" The Mulder-double jangled his keys in front of his twin. "That's where you're wrong, pal. And I hi-hosey the remote." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Scully's Apartment Georgetown 3:30 AM Scully unlocked her apartment door and allowed Dana to enter. "Damn," Dana said after flicking on the light. "I meant to water the plants before I left." A shriveling philodendron on the windowsill reminded them it needed a drink. "I don't know why I bother to grow plants; I always manage to kill them." Scully's eyebrow arched at her twin. "Oh, sorry. Guess I don't need to tell you that. Uh...do you want to take a bath first or shall I?" "You go ahead." "Are you sure? I don't mind waiting." "No, it's okay. I'll, uh, make us some tea." "There's Earl Gray decaff in the-- Oh, sorry." Scully slid her trench coat from her shoulders. "This...this is very weird, even by our standards." "I guess I should ask if it's okay to borrow some pajamas." Scully forced an exhausted smile. "Help yourself...uh, Dana. Please, make yourself at...at home." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Mulder's Apartment Arlington 3:30 AM Mulder and Fox rode the elevator in chilly silence. They avoided looking directly at one another but stole glances at every opportunity. Not one for self-assessment, Mulder didn't particularly enjoy viewing himself in such three-dimensional clarity. Yet at the same time, he couldn't not look. Like a car accident, he thought. He shut his eyes. Belying his forced outward calm, he flinched when the elevator bell announced their arrival on the fourth floor. "After you...*Fox.*" Fox grimaced. "You know I hate that." "Mmm." "Shall I unlock the door or do you insist on doing that yourself, too?" Mulder shrugged and said nothing. "You're being childish, you know?" "It's one of the things I do best." With one eye on Mulder, Fox tried to unlock the door. His key wouldn't fit in the lock. "What the...?" "Ooops. Looks like your key won't unlock *my* door...*pal.*" Mulder waved his own key at Fox before sliding it easily into the lock and opening the door. He stepped inside and Fox trailed after him. Both men shrugged out of their trench coats at the same time and tossed them simultaneously onto a chair. "I suppose you think you know what I'm going to do next?" Fox asked. Mulder didn't answer but they bumped knuckles when they both reached for the fish flakes at the same time. "*Excuse* me, but they're my fish and I'll feed them." Mulder scooped up the food and sprinkled a few flakes into the tank. The goldfish darted in unconcerned circles, oblivious to the tension beyond the glass walls of their little watery world. "Don't touch my basketball!" Fox froze in a half-crouch, fingers about to close around the ball. "I thought you always wanted a brother?" he asked. "A brother, yes. A clone, no." "What is it you don't like about me anyway? Or should I ask, what is it you don't like about yourself?" "Could be your annoying, predictable, not to mention unwelcome, attempt to psychoanalyze the idiosyncrasies of my pathetically maladjusted personality. But that's just a guess." "Oh, listen to the Oxford grad parading his multi-syllabic vocabulary in a thinly veiled attempt to avoid confronting his own inner-psychoses." "My id is your id." "Damn, Mulder. *You* are one pompous son-of-a-bitch." "Ditto, bro, ditto." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ FBI Headquarters Washington, DC 8:00 AM "You could pick up the dry cleaning while I'm at the dentist on Friday," Scully suggested, causing Dana to laugh. Smiling, they entered the basement office. Their good humor was short-lived, however. Mulder and Fox sat crossly waiting for the women. Scully noticed Fox wore Mulder's favorite suit and wondered how he had managed to get out of Arlington alive. "Mulder, you look terrible. Didn't you sleep?" Despite being freshly showered and shaved, both men wore pinched expressions; dark circles smudged their cheeks below their tired eyes. "Not as well as you did evidently. You're looking chipper this morning," he grumbled. "We had a nice relaxing breakfast before coming in. Dana cut up the fruit while I--" She paused when Mulder's lips pressed together and nearly disappeared. "It doesn't matter. You ready to go?" "Thought you'd never ask." "Uh...we're gonna need the scarab," Fox reminded Mulder. "Not a chance, pal." "It'll be a little difficult for Dr. Richards to give us any helpful information if we can't show him the artifact." "Fox is right, Mulder," Scully agreed. Mulder hissed at her apparent lack of loyalty. "Scully, he could toss it into a sewer grate on his way to the museum. We'd never see it again and we'd never be rid of--" Mulder stopped himself. "If you want answers, you'll need to trust me," Fox said. "You above all others should know I trust no one. No one but Scully, that is." Scully held out her hand. "Give me the scarab, Mulder." "Sculleee..." "You just said you trusted me. Give me the scarab." He withdrew the stone from his pocket and laid it in her palm. She in turn, placed the scarab in Fox's hand. "Scully!" "I trust him, Mulder, the same way I trust you. He won't break my trust, anymore than you would." * * * Mulder's temper seemed to cool once he sat behind the wheel of his car. Heading south into Virginia, his tension appeared to ebb away. His brow smoothed and his fingers relaxed their grip on the steering wheel as his irritation was replaced by his more natural exuberance. Even the heavy morning traffic didn't produce any sighs of impatience. Scully was accustomed to her partner's flip-flopping moods. She knew he could remain unreadable when he wanted to, but more often than not he wore his emotions on his sleeve. "You and Dana seem to hit it off," he said as he drove. "I like her." "She's you, Scully," he pointed out. "I...I guess I like myself." "Hmm." "Was it that bad, Mulder, with...uh, with Fox?" "No. *Yes.* I guess I'm not good at sharing. I got F's in 'plays well with others.'" "He's you." "Exactly my point. It's creepy." "Creepy?" "I don't particularly enjoy looking in a mirror all day, Scully. You may not have noticed this about me, but I can sometimes be an asshole." Mulder sighed. "Looking at him is like looking through a magnifying lens at all my faults." "You're not as bad as all that, Mulder. Besides, he can't help being here." "I know. I...I'll try to be nicer." "Tell me about your friend Bennu." Scully changed the subject. "Who is he?" "He's not really a friend. Actually, he's a thief." "A thief?" "Yeah. He's done some prison time for importing stolen artifacts from South America, Asia, Africa. He specialized in Egyptian antiquities at one time. He's not your average import/export criminal. He knows a lot about the things he steals. Legends. Curses. Magical powers." "Ahh. Was the scarab one of his ill-gotten gains?" "Probably." "Why'd he tell you about it?" "He owed me a favor. I sprang him from prison -- traded him a get-out-of-jail card for some information that eventually solved a particularly pesky X-File." "Telling you about the scarab was a favor?" A laugh chuffed from her nose. "Looking back on it now, maybe not. But it sounded good at the time." "Well, I hope he can give us some information that'll help us put things back the way they belong." "Scully, what if Dana and Fox...what if they don't want to go back?" _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Conservation Laboratory National Museum of African Art 8:32 AM Dana and Fox paced the short hall outside Dr. Richards' dark office. The museum's conservator was late. "How'd it go last night?" Dana asked, meeting Fox at the hall's mid-point for the umpteenth time. Neither paused in their pacing. "Oh, you know...I can sometimes be an asshole." Passing him, she smiled. By the time they faced each other once more, she had erased the grin from her face. "How about you? You girls hit it off?" "Yeah, we did actually. I like her." "She's you, Scul...Dana. Hell, do I have to call you that when we're alone together?" "I kind of like it." He stopped walking and leaned against the conservator's door. "They want to get rid of us, you know." "No, they don't. Not really. They just want us in our world and them in theirs. You have to admit, we don't belong here." "And where exactly do we belong? Where did we come from? Honestly, I feel like I'm the *real* Fox Mulder." "There's no arguing with the physical evidence, Mulder...uh...Fox. Fingerprints don't lie." "Maybe they rigged the fingerprints." "Rigged the FBI database?" "Hey, it's not like we haven't seen that kind of thing before." "I doubt that's the case this time. To tell you the truth, things have felt a little...well, a little backwards since yesterday afternoon." "Meeting yourself in your own office is bound to do that to a person." Just then a slender, balding man bustled toward them from the opposite end of the hall, a dozen or more books stacked in his skinny arms. "Hello! Agents Mulder and Scully?" His nose crinkled in an effort to keep his glasses from slipping off his nose. "I'm Dr. Richards. Sorry I'm late. After you called, I stopped in the museum's library to pick up several texts on Egyptian amulets -- scarabs in particular." The books leaned in the small man's arms as he struggled to balance the stack and fit his key into the door at the same time. "Here, let me help you," Fox offered, lifting the books from Richards' arms. "Thank you, Agent Mulder." Richards smiled. Hands now free, he adjusted his glasses and unlocked the door. With an eager wave, he ushered the agents inside. He hurried across the room and tugged at the window's tattered shade. It snapped upward, spewing dust as it slapped into place. A faint glow of sunlight fought its way through the decades-old grime that coated the windowpanes. "Uh, you can set those books down anywhere, Agent Mulder." Fox scanned the cramped office. Every flat surface was piled high with papers, books and exotic artifacts. Even the chair was buried beneath several African masks and a nasty looking spear. "The floor is fine," Richards suggested when he realized Fox's dilemma. "Did you bring the artifact, Agent Mulder?" With a grunt, Fox set the books on the floor. "Uh, yes." He withdrew the scarab from his pocket and held it out to the conservator. A soft vibration shook the floor. Richards' tiny office shuddered. The ancient floorboards quivered, shaking loose more than a century of dust. The window rattled in its frame. Several ceramic figurines jittered across a shelf, clinking and tinkling until one danced off its perch and shattered on the floor. The pile of books at Fox's feet toppled. Then the quake ended as abruptly as it had begun. "Well, that's odd!" Richards said, pushing up his glasses and stooping to collect the broken ceramic. "I don't think I've ever experienced an earthquake in DC before. Fortunately, this figurine was a reproduction." He deposited the shards in his overflowing wastebasket. "Now let's take a look at your scarab." Richards took the stone from Fox and set it beneath a magnifying lamp on his desk. "Oh. This is nice. Very nice indeed. Where did you get it?" "Nana Mulder's attic," Fox lied. "Isn't that always the way?" Richards clucked. "What can you tell us about it, Dr. Richards?" "Generally speaking, this particular scarab is an Egyptian blue heart scarab from the New Kingdom. Around 1400 BC. It represents the large sacred scarab, Scarabaeus sacer. It's in very fine shape. Extremely valuable. You aren't selling it by any chance, are you?" "Uh, no." "Too bad." "What else can you tell us, either about this scarab in particular or scarabs in general?" "Oooohhh, there's so much to tell!" "Such as...?" "Well, the scarab is associated with the Egyptian god Khepera, who was represented by a scarab -- either as a scarab itself, as a man with the face of a scarab or as a man whose head was a scarab. Wait, I have a picture here somewhere." He flipped through a thick text until he found a picture of a seated man who had a beetle for a head. "This is Khepera. He's considered the creator god. His name means both 'scarab' and 'he who comes into existence.' You see, scarabs lay their eggs in a ball of dung. To the early Egyptians, it appeared as if newly hatched scarabs created themselves, appearing out of nothing. Khepera was attributed with these same powers of self-generation and self-renewal." "Could this amulet have those powers?" Fox asked. A high-pitched laugh burst from Richards. "You mean, like a mummy's curse or something, Agent Mulder?" "Something like that." "Uh, well, perhaps, if you believe in such things. You see, this particular scarab is what is known as a 'heart scarab.'" "Meaning...?" "It was placed over the heart of the mummified deceased to be weighed against the Feather of Truth during Final Judgment. Amulets like these were often inscribed with a spell." "The 'feather of truth'?" "Yes. A deceased's soul was thought to sit in his heart and the heart was weighed on a balance against the Feather of Truth, the Feather of Ma'at, represented by an ostrich feather. If the heart was free of the impurities of sin, it was lighter than the feather, and the dead person could then enter the eternal afterlife in Duat. It was hoped that the charmed scarab would prevent the heart from exposing the sins of the soul. A spell from the Book of the Dead -- Spell 30 to be exact -- was inscribed on the back of the scarab. Let's see if it's on yours as well." Richards flipped the stone over and Fox and Dana peered through the magnifying glass at a series of glyphs scored into the scarab's flat underside. "What does it say?" "In part it reads: 'O my heart which I had upon earth, do not rise up against me as a witness in the presence of the Lord of Things; do not speak against me concerning what I have done, do not bring up anything against me in the presence of the Great God, Lord of the West.'" "What happened if the heart weighed more than the Feather of Truth?" "If a heart was burdened with sin and evil, the soul of the deceased was devoured by Ammut in the Hall of the Two Truths." "Ammut?" "Ammut was a goddess with the head of a crocodile, the forequarters of a lion, and the hindquarters of a hippopotamus." "Sounds nasty." "Oh, yes indeed. She was quite a grotesquery. Let me show you a representation." Once more Richards thumbed through his text. With a flourish he spread the book open and revealed a frightening chimera. "Can you imagine facing such a monster?" _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Edward Bennu's Residence Engleside, Virginia "Come in, come in, Mulder my old friend!" Edward Bennu slapped Mulder repeatedly on the back. A heavy man with a wide smile and a glossy gold tooth, Bennu tugged Mulder into his apartment. He turned to Scully and beamed. "This is my partner, Agent Dana Scully," Mulder introduced. "Oh! Not your wife! I wondered how a cadger like you could ever hope to win himself such a beauty." "Well, I've always been lucky at poker, but not in this case." Mulder laughed. He shook the smiling man's hand. "You don't need to tell me, old friend. I've lost plenty to your infamous luck of the draw. Please, have a seat. Let me get you something to drink. Coffee? Of course you want coffee. I'll just be a minute. Get comfortable. Sit. Sit." Bennu prodded Scully toward a cushioned chair before he vanished into the kitchen. Mulder sat on the sofa opposite her. "Well, you certainly are a man of mystery, Mulder. Next thing you know, I'll be finding out you were once married or something." "Heh." Mulder avoided her eyes and studied the room. Gold dazzled in every corner. Statuettes, bowls, lamps -- all gleamed against a backdrop of rich red carpets, camel upholstery, and emerald green drapes. A pair of ivory tusks graced the fireplace. Twin gold figures sat back to back on miniature thrones atop the coffee table. "You met Bennu in prison?" Scully asked, also noticing the room's riches. "Not exactly. The last time I saw him, he was in prison." Scully picked up one of the gold statuettes. It was heavy and cool in her hand. She traced a finger over the figure's intricately carved face. "Beautiful, isn't she?" Bennu returned balancing a silver coffee service on a tray. "Who is she?" "The Egyptian Goddess Ma'at. The other figure is the God Osiris." "Why is he wrapped like a mummy?" Scully returned the statue of Ma'at to her place beside Osiris. "Osiris was King of the Afterlife. Ma'at was the Goddess of Law, Order, and Truth. The ancient Egyptians worshipped order and truth and believed that without them, chaos would reign and their world and their souls would not exist." Bennu set the tray on the coffee table. "So did you find the amulet, my friend?" he asked Mulder. "Yes. Yes we did." "Wonderful! Wonderful! May I see it?" Bennu rubbed his palms together. His shiny gold tooth caught the light and sparkled like a firecracker. "I don't have it with me." Bennu's smile faded. He dropped onto a bamboo chair. "But...but you did find it where I told you...you did bring it back to DC?" "Yes. What exactly is the amulet, Bennu?" "Just a curiosity. An Egyptian object d'art." Bennu smiled again and poured them each a cup of coffee. "Nothing more?" "Of course not, my friend. What else could it be?" "A magic charm maybe?" Bennu ran thick fingers through his jet-black hair. "Why...why would you ask such a ridiculous thing? Did...did something happen?" "No," Mulder lied. Watching him, Scully had no doubt her partner could bluff his way through any poker game. Perhaps even win a wife. She set her coffee cup on the table. The coffee vibrated inside the cup and the cup tinkled against its saucer. A low rumble shook the table, rattling the gold statues and shivering the silver service on its tray. "Mice?" Mulder asked when the shaking finally subsided. "That was an earthquake," Scully said. "In DC?" Bennu seemed surprised. "I grew up in California -- I know earthquakes. That was an earthquake." "Well, it appears to be over now." Bennu looked relieved. "More coffee?" "No, thank you. Tell me about the amulet, Bennu. Where did it come from?" Mulder asked. "The tomb of Thuya, mother-in-law of Amenhotep III. Although not of royal lineage herself, Thuya and her husband, the king's Lieutenant of Chariotry, achieved considerable authority and wealth thanks to their daughter's marriage. They were buried in the Valley of the Kings. The blue heart scarab was placed on Thuya's chest and buried with her." "How did it wind up in a small antique shop in Portland, Maine, Mr. Bennu?" Scully asked. "Like most Egyptian burial sites, Thuya's tomb was plundered centuries ago. Funerary objects often make their way into private collections. Antique dealers pick them up at estate auctions all the time." "In case you've forgotten, Bennu, I did you a big favor in exchange for information about that amulet. You led me to believe the scarab was charmed. If the scarab has no magic powers, why did you send me all the way to Maine to get it?" Mulder's smile evaporated and was replaced with what Scully recognized as calculated coolness. She knew her partner. She may even be able to beat him at poker. "Oh, my friend! I haven't forgotten your kindness. No, no, never! The scarab has no magic but it's still valuable, no? It's worth a couple of thousand dollars at auction. Surely the FBI doesn't pay you so well that you couldn't use a little extra cash? Buy yourself another Armani suit? Maybe a pretty gift for your partner?" Bennu's eyes slid over to Scully. He licked the oily beads of sweat dotting his upper lip. "You knew I wasn't interested in the artifact's monetary value." "If you think I've misled you, I apologize. It was never my intention to misrepresent the artifact. Please, accept my apology, my friend, and let me buy the scarab back from you. I'll give you double what it's worth. Four thousand dollars, cash. Then we can put this little misunderstanding behind us. What do you say?" Mulder shook his head and stood to go. "No, Bennu. I'll hang onto the scarab for a while. I think it's kinda pretty actually. It might look nice in the bottom of my fish tank." Mulder grabbed Bennu's hand and pumped it with enthusiasm. "Stay in touch, Bennu." "But...Mulder...wait, my friend..." Despite Bennu's sputtering, Mulder linked arms with Scully, and waggled his fingers goodbye. He guided Scully to Bennu's front door. Stepping out onto the street, his good humor vanished. "He's hiding something, Scully. He wants that charm for himself." "Maybe it's worth a lot more than a couple of thousand dollars." "I'm sure it is, but not in the way he wants us to think. It's like I said earlier: the scarab is priceless -- for its power. And Bennu knows how to use that power." "So what do we do?" "If I know Bennu the way I think I know Bennu, he's going to try to steal the scarab from us." "Should we hide it?" "No, Scully. I want him to steal it." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Mulder's Apartment Arlington When Mulder and Scully arrived at his apartment, Fox and Dana were already sitting in the livingroom. The blue scarab rested atop a short stack of unreturned Triple-X videos like a jewel on a pedestal. Sprawled full-length on the couch, Fox thumbed through one of Dr. Richards' thick texts. Dana researched Egyptian antiquities via the Internet on Mulder's personal computer. Mulder shoved Fox's feet from one end of the couch and dropped himself onto the cushions in their place. Scully picked up the scarab to study it. "What did you find out from Dr. Richards?" she asked. "He doesn't believe in mummy curses," Fox answered. "Look at this." He opened the text he was holding and displayed a picture of Ammut, the hideous chimera with the head of a crocodile, the forequarters of a lion, and the hindquarters of a hippopotamus. "What's that supposed to be?" Scully asked. "Ammut. Ferocious devourer of sinners. The scarab was intended as protection against it. There's a spell carved into the bottom of it." She flipped the amulet over to look. "So it is charmed?" "Not according to Richards, even with the spell," Fox said. "What did you two find out?" "That Bennu believes in the scarab's supernatural powers, despite his protests to the contrary," Mulder said. "Bennu?" Dana asked from the desk. "Did you say your friend's name was Bennu?" "Yeah. Edward Bennu." "That's weird. This information on ancient Egypt says that Bennu was a sacred bird whose name meant to 'rise' or 'shine.' Bennu resembled a heron and was associated with the sun god. To the Greeks, the Bennu was known as the legendary Phoenix." "The Phoenix that rose up out of its own ashes?" Scully asked. "To live again and again. One and the same," said Dana. "There's that spontaneous creation theme again," Mulder said. "There's more than that. Let's see if I can explain this without it becoming too confusing." Dana turned to face the others. "The Egyptians subscribed to a variety of creation myths but all of them had one thing in common: Nun." "None?" "N-U-N. Even though the various myths named different gods as the original creator, they all agreed that he sprang from Nun, the primordial waters. Nun was more than an ocean; he was a limitless expanse of motionless water." "Did he kind of look like a mirror, by any chance?" Mulder aksed. "Maybe. He's represented as a bearded man with a blue or green body, symbolizing water and fertility. Out of Nun rose Khepera. His name means the 'Creator.' He created light and man. He had the body of a man and the head of a scarab. You still with me?" "Yep. We got Nun the watery guy and Khepera, the beetle-headed Creator," Mulder said in summary. "Right," Dana continued. "Khepera created light, so he was the sun god. He also created man...in a rather unusual way. Khepera created his children by masturbating. Evidently, he was a hermaphroditic god, embodying both the male and female...uh, aspects of life. Therefore, his semen contained all that was necessary to create new life and deities. The Egyptians called him the 'Great He-She' and his name also meant 'the complete one.'" "That's bizarre, but what's your point?" Scully asked. "Bennu -- the heron -- was a symbol of the rising and setting sun, representing the 'ba' or soul of Khepera, the sun god, the Great He-She, the complete one, whatever you want to call him." "Are you suggesting Mulder's friend Bennu is in some way connected to Khepera the ancient Egyptian god and is therefore in some way responsible for the spontaneous creation of you and Fox?" Scully asked. "We did seem to appear out of nowhere. Bennu and the scarab are the only clues we have." "It doesn't track," Scully said. "We must be missing a piece or two in the puzzle." "How do we find those missing pieces?" "We wait for Bennu's next move," Mulder said. "Scully, put the scarab in the fish tank." Crossing the room, Scully lifted the aquarium's cover and dropped the scarab into the water. It settled to the bottom of the tank. The goldfish darted into the far corner where they huddled, leveling unblinking eyes at the unusual blue stone. Mulder leaned forward on the couch. "Okay, boys and girls, here's what we're gonna do." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Mulder's Apartment Arlington 9:30 PM Sitting on the outermost edge of his bed, Dana avoided any contact with Mulder's sprawling legs. He leaned against the headboard and tried to relax. He cracked another sunflower seed between his teeth and deposited its shell atop a growing pile on the nightstand beside him. The room was pitch dark, the shades drawn and the drapes closed against any ambient light from the streetlamps outside. "You're sure he's going to show?" she asked. "Yes." Mulder popped another seed into his mouth. "Don't worry. He'll tail Scully and Fox to the restaurant and when he's certain they're going to be there for a while, he'll come back here to steal the scarab. Bennu's a careful guy. He's also very predictable." Mulder offered a seed to Dana. "No thanks." She shifted slightly. Softly cleared her throat. "You still don't trust Fox and me, do you?" "I trust you." He tried to see her face in the gloom, but couldn't make out her expression. "How can you not trust him? He's you, Mulder." "'Nuff said." "So why trust me?" He wanted to tell her that it was impossible for him to look into her eyes -- Scully's eyes -- and not trust her. On one level, he knew she wasn't Scully, but at the same time, she was every bit Scully. Well, except for the left-handed thing. And the fact that Scully arched the other eyebrow. "You're more pragmatic than he is, Dana...more so than he or I could ever hope to be. You're by the book. A place for everything, everything in its place kind of woman. I think you recognize you don't really belong here." "It's true. I can't help thinking how we left behind our own world somewhere. My real job is there. My real family. It's my home and I want to go back to it. There are people there who must be worried about me, miss me." "You see, that's the difference between you and him. He doesn't have those ties. You're the only one who would miss him if he disappeared. At...at least I *think* you'd miss him." "Of course I would. Why do you think I get so pissed off at you when you ditch me, Mulder? Uh...oh, sorry. That's not you." He slid across the mattress to sit beside her. His bouncing toppled her into his shoulder. He placed a steadying hand on her arm. "Yeah, in a way, it is. I...I'm sorry." She chuckled. "Damn it, *he* won't remember your apology." It dawned on him that whatever he said or did next, Scully would never carry the memory. He could ask a question or tell a truth without facing any long-term consequences. Pushing any ethical concerns to the back of his brain, he decided this opportunity was too fortuitous to pass up. "Scully?" Using her surname helped his mind transform her into the real Scully, his Scully. "Hmm?" So accustomed to hearing him address her by her last name, she didn't seem to notice the sudden switch. "Uh...you've never said anything about my...uh, our New Year's Eve kiss." His voice all but faded out. He felt more than saw her turn toward him. He cleared his throat. Tried to work up his courage. In the end, he decided to go for it, ask the question he really wanted to ask. "Did...uh, did you...uh, like it?" She paused before answering. No doubt she realized, just as he had, that she could walk away from this conversation with no accountability. Her Mulder would never know the things she said here. She could reveal her heart without risking permanent exposure. As with him, it seemed, the prospect proved too tempting. "Yes," she said softly. Her answer fell on his eager heart like a balm of sweet rain on scorched desert sands. He wanted to throw back his head and laugh out loud, laugh until she giggled with him. Instead, he pulled her to his chest and pressed his lips against hers. Not a simple, chaste kiss like the one on New Year's Eve, but a kiss exploding with all the passion he had withheld for seven long years. She clearly returned his ardor, freeing emotion long bridled by duty and expectation. When he finally released her lips, he braced for a left-fisted wallop to his jaw. She didn't move. "You're...you're not going to punch me?" "Why would I do that?" "Well, I just thought--" A shiver vibrated the apartment floor, cutting short the memory of his not-so-well-received kiss aboard the Queen Anne. Something in the kitchen fell with a clatter. Pictures rattled on the wall. The clock on the nightstand bounced so hard, it turned to face the wall. The bed trembled and shook. Mulder gripped Dana's arm until the rumbling ceased and the bed stilled. "That's the second quake today," Dana said. "Fox and I felt one when we were at Dr. Richards'." "Scully and I felt one, too. At Bennu's. It's kind of--" A snick at the apartment's front door stopped Mulder mid-sentence. Immediately, without so much as a creak of the bedsprings, Mulder was up and across the room. He put one eye to the door's open crack, then flashed Dana a silent thumb's up when he saw Bennu tiptoe into the livingroom. The thief's head swiveled as he searched for any signs the apartment was occupied. Checking the kitchen and the bath, he momentarily disappeared from Mulder's view. Mulder flattened himself against the wall and Dana remained still and silent in the shadows when Bennu nudged the bedroom door open and peeked inside. Unable to see the agents in the dark, Bennu seemed satisfied that he was indeed alone in the apartment. All his nervousness appeared to leave him. He returned to the livingroom to inspect the fish tank. "Ah, my beautiful scarab." He chuckled when he spied the amulet at the bottom of the tank. Pushing up his sleeve, he dipped his hand into the water. The goldfish darted out of his way, startled by the invasion of the big man's hand into their world. From the relative safety of their little castle, they watched five huge fingers curl around the now familiar blue scarab. A miniature tidal wave jostled the tiny, fish when the giant hand retreated above their heads. They desperately flapped their fins in an effort to avoid being sucked into the vortex left behind by Bennu's disappearing hand. Bennu shook the water from the scarab and slipped the amulet into his pocket. His gold tooth sparkled in the near-dark, reflecting the light from the fish tank. He headed for the door. "Freeze, Bennu." Mulder stood behind him, gun drawn. "There you are!" Bennu laughed. He turned to face the barrel of Mulder's gun. Dana stood at Mulder's side, her weapon also pointed at Bennu's chest. "I've been looking for you, my friends!" "I'll bet. Give me the amulet." "I...I don't know what you mean." "No? Let me clarify: you're going back to prison, Bennu, for breaking and entering, hampering a Federal investigation, resist--" "Alright, alright." Bennu produced the scarab and passed it to Mulder. "Cuff him, Dana." "What?" Bennu squawked. "But why?" "Because you're stealing from me, 'my friend.'" "But...but..." Bennu protested as Dana tugged his arms behind him and closed the cuffs around his wrists. "Wait, please," he pleaded. "Don't send me back to prison. Let me make it up to you in some way." Mulder lowered his gun. "What do you have to offer, Bennu, in exchange for the generous oversight of your illegal activities?" "What do you need, my friend? I can get you anything. Your wish is my--" "There's only one thing I want, Bennu." "Anything. Anything at all. Just say it and I'll--" "I want the secret to this." He held up the scarab. "But...there is no secret. The scarab is nothing but--" Bennu never finished his lie. Scully and Fox stepped through the front door into the apartment. Astonished, Bennu looked from Mulder to Fox and from Dana to Scully. "As you can see, Bennu, we have a little problem," Mulder said. "And you're going to help us solve it." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Interstate 95 Somewhere in New Hampshire "Did you see the look on the tollbooth attendant's face?" Fox asked from behind the steering wheel of Scully's car. "I told you I should drive." Scully kept her eyes on Mulder's car up ahead. She could just make out Bennu in the back seat. "We should be in Portland in about an hour." "Scully, I know that. I didn't come from another planet. My world looks just like this one, only...well, kind of flip-flopped." "If your world is a mirror image of this one, how come you can read the street signs and why don't you find driving on the right side of the road strange?" "I don't know, Scully. I don't understand this any more than you do. But it all feels perfectly natural, believe me." She tried to put herself in his shoes. "Fox, do you...do you mind leaving, going back to your own world?" "Dana's going, so I'm going." He glanced at her. "Can't break up the set." "You make it sound as if you're salt and pepper shakers." She was certain that if the tables were turned, she would follow Mulder into the alternate universe, too. Thinking about life without him caused the muscles of her chest to ache. She found herself wishing Mulder -- not his mirror image -- rode beside her now. "Uh, Fox...you were right." His eyebrows rose and he looked at her again. "About...?" "We don't ever talk...um, that is, Mulder and I never talk." "Oh. That." "So..." "So...?" "Do you want to ask me a question?" "Sure." "Make it something that requires only a simple yes or no, please...if you don't mind." "Does a single true/false question really qualify as a heart-to-heart talk, Scully?" "Is that your question?" "No." "Then just ask your question." He bit his lip and thought for a moment. She bet herself he was going to ask about their New Year's Eve kiss, since he brought it up earlier in their office. It was true, she had never addressed it with Mulder. Never mentioned it at all although it had represented a pretty big shift in their relationship. A gargantuan shift, actually. "There's a time limit, Fox," she warned when he seemed to take too long. "Okay, okay. Here's my question. Yes or no, do you want me...uh, him...uh, Mulder to um, kiss you...again?" Bingo! She knew it! Fine. He wanted to know, she'd tell him the truth. A firm, unmistakable, no holds-barred... "Yes," she said. "Really?" Fox's voice squeaked from his throat. He was gripping the steering wheel so hard, she was amazed it didn't snap beneath the pressure of his hands. "I, uh...I'm glad we had this chat, Scully." "Me, too." She relaxed a little. "It wasn't so bad actually. I don't know why we avoided it for so long. He...uh," -- she jutted her chin at Mulder's car -- "he's never to know what we said here, by the way." "Scully, I think I can speak for him when I say he'd like to know." "I'll tell him. I...I will. Someday. When we have the time for a real heart-to-heart." Scully settled into her seat; she had no more to say. "Don't you want to ask me a question?" She thought for a minute and then shook her head. "You don't want to know when I might plan to do it...kiss you...er...Dana again?" "You're not my partner, Fox, so what difference does it make?" "Well, it might give you a little insight into his head." She squinted at the car in front of them. "Fine. When do you plan to kiss me...uh, Dana again?" "At the first opportunity, Scully. At the absolute, very first opportunity." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Royal Street Antique Shop Portland, Maine "Get inside." Mulder propelled Bennu through the shop's front door, setting the bell tinkling above their heads. Bennu crashed against a Colonial commode, upsetting the china pitcher. He caught it before it fell to the floor. "No need to shove, my friend. I told you I would help you." "I'm finding it a tad hard to trust you, Bennu." Scully snaked her way along a cramped aisle in search of a shopkeeper. Her dollar was gone from the counter. Nothing else in the shop appeared changed, however. "Hello? Hello!" she called. "Anyone here? Hellooooo!" She looked for a back door or a side room. There were neither. Once again, no one tended the shop. Mulder hustled Bennu to the mirror in the back of the store. Fox and Dana trailed after them. "Okay, Bennu, send Fox and Dana back," Mulder demanded. He held out the scarab. "It's not as easy as that," Bennu said. "Why not?" "I don't think you comprehend all the consequences," Bennu warned. "What consequences?" Fox demanded. "Can we return safely to our own world or not?" "I'm...I'm not entirely sure." "If it's not safe, we're not going." "This is no time to get all weenie-assed," Mulder told Fox. "It's not *my* ass I'm concerned about. I have no intention of risking Dana's life. Do you?" he challenged. "No. Of course not. Not even to get rid of *you,* roomie. So what's involved, Bennu?" Mulder asked. "I must die." "What?" "Bennu, what the hell are you talking about?" "There are some things about myself I haven't told you, my friend. You see," -- he cleared his throat -- "I am Bennu, the sacred bird of Heliopolis. I am the soul of the sun god, Khepera, the Great He-She. I am the manifestation of the resurrected Osiris, god of the earth, king of the Afterlife. I am reincarnation itself. I die only to rise up from my own ashes to live once more. I have died and lived innumerable times over thousands of years." "That's not possible," Scully said, joining the group at the mirror. "Oh? Isn't it?" Bennu chuckled. "No. And even if what you say is true -- and I'm not saying that it is -- what does any of this have to do with the scarab or the appearance of Fox and Dana?" "The scarab holds the power of Khepera. Khepera, the Creator, made everything in the universe from nothing. From his mouth he brought forth the watery abyss of Nun. Out of Nun, Khepera brought all else. And out of the mirror, Khepera brought Fox and Dana." "But why?" Mulder asked. "The power of the scarab is great. I should not have sent you after it. I should have come for it myself. This scarab has been my protection in the Hall of Two Truths for forty centuries. My heart has been weighed against the Feather of Ma'at, the Feather of Truth, countless times. With this scarab, the sins of my heart have remained hidden, allowing me to escape the jaws of the monstrous chimera, Ammut. As Bennu, I do not pass into the Afterlife, the world of Duat, but I am born again. Without the scarab to protect me, Ammut would surely have devoured me and I would have vanished forever." "If the scarab is so powerful and important to you, why did you leave it here in this shop?" Scully asked. "I was on my way to prison! I had to hide the amulet somewhere. I couldn't risk losing it." "But here? In a public place?" "I had no time. I had to make do." "So now what?" Mulder asked. "As I said, I must die. My death will open the Hall of Two Truths. At that moment, Fox and Dana must take the scarab and pass through the mirror, returning to their own world." "But if we have the scarab, what will happen to you, Bennu?" Fox asked. "My heart will have to stand on its own against the Feather of Truth." Bennu's forehead creased with worry. "I have lived many lives, my friends. I must tell you, I haven't always been good in them." A tremor rumbled below their feet. Glassware tinkled and silver rattled. A stack of songbooks toppled, sending sheet music sliding across the dusty floor. "Bennu, we don't want to be the cause of--" Dana began. "You are not the cause of my trouble. If anyone here is to blame for anything, it is me." A rusty suit of armor collapsed to the floor with a clang. "But Fox and Dana...they don't *have* to go back," Mulder said. "I'd prefer they went back, but if it means you're going to become Ammut's entree, Bennu, forget it." China teacups dropped one at a time from a vibrating shelf, smashing on the floor like little glass bombs. A cigar box tumbled from a table, spilling several dozen marbles across the floor. The marbles scattered and rolled in all directions, jouncing across the shuddering wooden planks. "Fox and Dana *must* go back." Bennu insisted. Crystal lamps shimmied and clattered above their heads. "Order must be restored to both worlds." A stack of traveling trunks toppled, splitting the uppermost case and spewing nightgowns and shoes and dress shirts across the floor. "The balance of Ma'at has been disturbed. Chaos will arrive and overtake the universe." The earth groaned beneath them; a wrenching tear deep within the ground buckled the floorboards. "It's because of my carelessness that Fox and Dana were brought here. They belong in their own world. I must put things right or everyone in both worlds will die. Both universes will cease to exist." The shop's front window cracked and then imploded, spraying glass like buckshot. Bennu reached for the scarab and Mulder released it to him. Bennu raised the amulet above his head. The ground stopped trembling. The air stood still. The room went silent. An eddy of dust began to swirl around Bennu. The breeze picked up speed, fluttering the nearby 1940s back issues of Life Magazine, the tattered edges of several crazy quilts, and the lacy trim of table linens. The four agents blinked blowing dust from their eyes. The rising wind tugged their hair and ruffled the fabric of their clothes. Fox and Mulder's trench coats began to flap like bats' wings as the vortex grew in speed and scope. The whirling current carried the odor of a long sealed tomb, a dry rot of decaying rags and crumbling bones. The perfume of the dead. Then the wind suddenly fell still. A bearded man materialized beside the old mirror. Trussed like a mummy with only his face and hands unwrapped, the man's skin was as green as fresh grass. In his emerald hands he carried a flail and a crook. On his head he wore a white crown with red feathers. "Osiris." Bennu bowed. "King of the Afterlife. Supreme God and Judge of the Dead." Then, like the first rays of the sun topping the horizon, a beautiful woman emerged on the opposite side of the mirror. She held a scepter in one gold hand and the Knot of Life in the other. A pair of brilliant wings sprouted from her arms. In her dark hair she wore a curved ostrich feather, which bobbed whenever she moved. She and Osiris flanked the looking glass like guards. "Ma'at." Bennu kowtowed once more. "Goddess of Law, Order, and Truth." Next, the looking glass itself metamorphosed into a bearded man with skin that shimmered like a turquoise lagoon. He wore a palm frond in his hair and held another in his hand. He stood so still he became virtually invisible, reflecting back the cluttered contents of the room. "Nun, the Primordial Waters." Bennu pointed. Within the flat pool of Nun, a being appeared. He had the body of a man, but a giant scarab perched upon his shoulders where his head should sit. Its ebony shell glistened and its legs bent and pawed at the air, circling his terrible head like a writhing halo. "Khepera, the Creator," Bennu whispered. Khepera remained behind his curtain of water, but thrust his hand out into the room. "We are almost ready, my friends," Bennu said. "We wait only for the Goddess Ammut and the Scale of Ma'at on which my heart will be weighed against the Feather of Truth. To bring them here, I must die. Fox, Dana, take the scarab. When I have breathed my last breath, return with it to your own world by taking Khepera's hand and passing through the Waters of Nun. After you are safely home, order will be restored. It is then that my heart will be put upon the scale and my fate shall be decided." Under the watchful eyes of Osiris and Ma'at, Fox accepted the scarab from Bennu. The amulet shone brightly in his palm. "Bennu, are you sure?" he asked. "Yes, Fox. Please take it. You and Dana don't belong here. You cannot stay." Bennu turned to face Mulder. He gripped his old friend's shoulders and smiled, his gold tooth glittering. "Now my dear friend, I must ask of you a hearty favor." "No, Bennu." "You must help me do this. A single bullet to my skull." "No." "It will be nothing, a fragment of time so small and a pain so slight, I will not suffer." "No, Bennu. I won't. There has to be another way." "Give me your gun then, my friend." "No." "Give me your gun," Bennu insisted. "I have lived two thousand generations. I have died countless times in countless ways and I have always returned." "But without the scarab..." "The scarab is nothing but a smoke screen, a lie to cover the truth. It is time to bare my soul and meet my fate. Who knows, my friend? Perhaps my heart is not so full of sin. Give me your gun." Bennu held out his palm. "If you don't, I will find another way and it's not likely to be as quick and painless." Bennu's hand was steady; his face was calm. Clearly, he was determined to meet his destiny, here, now, in this tiny antique shop. He was prepared to expose his heart and face the truth. Mulder hesitated before unholstering his gun and placing it gently in Bennu's outstretched palm. "Bennu--?" "Thank you, my friend." Bennu clapped Mulder twice on the shoulder. Stepping back, he brought the gun's barrel to his temple. "Perhaps I'll see you all in Duat." He looked into Mulder's eyes. "Although you, my friend, may need a scarab of your own to get past Ammut," he said and pulled the trigger. Like a crack of thunder, the gun fired, boring a dime-sized hole in Bennu's temple and blasting a spray of blood and brains out the far side of his head. For a brief moment, he remained standing, balanced on unsteady feet. Then he teetered and crumpled to the floor. Scully hurried to his side. Kneeling beside him, she pressed her fingers to his neck. His pulse faded and then stopped altogether. "Go," she told Fox and Dana. "He's dead." With his palm pressed against the small of her back, Fox guided Dana to the mirror. She grasped the outstretched hand of Khepera and stepped into the watery looking-glass. Catching Fox's hand before she disappeared into the rippling pool, she tugged him after her. Halfway across the glassy barrier, Fox turned to Mulder. "See you the next time you shave, pal," he said and vanished. A low gargling growl drew Mulder's attention away from the settling water of Nun, prickling the hairs on his neck. The floor rattled as a monster stepped from the shadows. A hideous conglomeration of skin and fur and scales loomed to a startling height, crowding the low space of the shop and toppling furniture, glassware, and silverplate. With the smooth hindquarters of a hippopotamus, the shaggy forequarters of a lion, and the grinning maw of a crocodile, the chimera paced around Bennu's body. Saliva dripped from its hanging jaw and puddled in slick tarns around Bennu's splintered skull. The creature was Ammut and she waited with little patience to devour the dead man's body. Scully gasped. Mulder grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the monster. Ignoring the hulking chimera, the Goddess Ma'at moved into position beside Bennu's body. In her hand, she carried a golden scale. With outstretched fingers, she dipped her free hand into Bennu's chest and cleanly withdrew his heart. She placed it on one side of the scale, sinking the plate. Ma'at then plucked the ostrich feather from her hair and laid it on the opposite side of the scale. The downy plume looked hopelessly weightless beside the blood-filled heart. The chimera snarled, lifting its head and snapping its jaws. Without speaking, Ma'at measured Bennu's heart against the Feather of Truth. The scale creaked. With a slow lurch, the ostrich feather sank and the heart of Bennu inched upward. The two plates dangled, side by side. Another tiny groan of metal, and the scale tipped again. Bennu's heart rose, lighter than the Feather of Truth. By giving Dana and Fox the scarab, Bennu had risked his own immortal soul to bring order to the two worlds. Unknowingly, he had assured his own immortality, washing clean the sins and impurities of his heart by his last, unselfish act. Without the scarab, his soul passed into Duat, the Eternal Afterlife, and his body crumbled to powder-fine dust. The chimera and the gods vanished with a puff of air that scattered the dust of Bennu's body. The antique mirror stood as it always had. Mulder looked at Scully's startled face. "Uh, you've got a smudge of dust--" His thumb rose to wipe the mark away. Scully ducked beyond his reach. "Leave it. Let's get out of here, Mulder." He gripped her hand and stood firm. "First things first, Scully." "W-what are you talking about?" "Something I think I promised myself." Just as Bennu had done, Mulder was prepared to expose his heart and face the truth. He was determined to meet his destiny here in the wrecked remains of this tiny antique shop. He wrapped his arms around Scully and, before she could object, he leaned in and kissed her. Not a kiss overwhelmed by passion, like the one with Dana in his apartment, and not a simple, chaste kiss, like the one he and Scully had shared on New Year's Eve, but something in between the two. A kiss that spoke the truth of his heart. A kiss that contained a love so genuine and absolute, it would effortlessly rise above the Feather of Truth if weighed upon the scale of Ma'at. A kiss that was honest and telling and true. A perfectly perfect kiss. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Mulder's Apartment Arlington The Next Day Mulder squinted at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Tipping his head from side-to-side, he scrutinized his features, searching for something...anything...out of the ordinary. Looking through the mirror into the room beyond, he hunted for any out-of-place details. Damp towels hung bunched on the towel bar. An empty roll of toilet paper sat beside the sink. The shower curtain stuck wetly to the tile. The looking-glass room appeared identical to the room in which he stood He placed his palm against the glass, suddenly needing to feel the barrier between him and the looking-glass world. The cold, hard surface reassured him, although he wasn't sure he would ever look at himself in a mirror in quite the same way again. A knocked sounded on his apartment door. "Mulder?" Scully called out as she let herself in. "In the bathroom, Scully. I'll be right out." "I brought my field report, in case you wanted to go over it," she said. "Or...or we could do something else." He pulled a clean t-shirt over his head. "What did you have in mind?" "Order Chinese, maybe." "For breakfast?" He squirted toothpaste onto his brush and scrubbed his teeth. "Egg Fu Yung?" "Very funny," he said around the foam in his mouth. He spit. "No thanks." "There's a cafe around the corner. We could go there." "Sounds good." He wiped the last traces of shaving cream and toothpaste from his face with a towel. "Maybe we could...uh..." She stopped. "We could what, Scully?" He tried patting his wet, spiky hair into place. "Have a...have a heart-to-heart talk?" This raised his eyebrows. He winked at his reflection in the mirror. "Yesss!" he whispered, and high-fived his twin on the other side of the glass. "Be right there, Scully." THE END Author's notes: Schmaltzy? You bet. But I now understand why CC occasionally tosses us viewers a delightfully bizarre bone like Triangle, Dreamland, Small Potatoes or Rain King.