Title:  Now You See Him

Author:  mimic117

Email:  mimic117@yahoo.com

Rating:  PG-13 to R for Anglo-Saxon invectives

Category:  X

Setting: Season 7-ish, but before Je Souhaite

Summary:  Be careful what you wish for -- you might get it.

Archive:  If you want to.  I'll do Gossamer and Ephemeral 
myself, thanks.

Disclaimer:  Sheee yeah, right!  Not EVEN in my dreams.

Enormous beta thanks to xdksfan and Dan Walker for jumping 
into the eleventh-hour chaos which is my idea of a deadline.  
Every tiny snicker and comment is greatly appreciated, even 
the snarky ones from Dan.

Special Thanks:  To Clarissa for information about subways, 
busses and the Potomac River that kept this story from going 
in the wrong direction.  And to Dan Walker, for the initial idea.  
This isn't anything like what he had in mind, but that's tough.  
If he wants to see his own vision in print, let him write it 
himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now You See Him
by mimic117


J. Edgar Hoover Building
Tuesday
4:33 PM

"Hey, Spooky.  You seen ET lately?"

"Yeah, Vertense, I had lunch with him today.  He's looking for 
you.  Says he's got an anal probe with your name on it."

As the elevator doors closed out the laughing faces of his 
fellow agents, Mulder leaned back against the metal 
compartment walls.  He was the only one headed for the 
basement, and he was damned glad of it.  For once he'd left 
people laughing at someone other than their favorite whipping 
boy, but Mulder was still sick of the laughter.  There'd been far 
too much of it recently and he'd just about had enough.

When the elevator doors opened on the lowest floor, he strode 
toward his office.  Thankfully, the door was open or he would 
have been tempted to kick it.  

Scully looked up from her laptop as he entered the room.

"What did security have for us?"

He'd almost forgotten why he'd left the sanctuary of the 
basement.  Now that he remembered, his previous sense of 
loathing returned, augmented by the memory of mocking 
laughter.

He opened the box he was carrying and dumped the contents 
out onto his desk.  "We got a rock."  

"A rock?"

"Yep.  Of undetermined origin, composition, and value."

Getting up from her chair, Scully walked over and picked up 
the empty box.  She peered inside, checked the flaps, then 
flipped it over.

"Who sent it?"

Mulder sat down in his chair and palmed the stone.  It was 
about the size of a large orange, rough in texture and non-
descript in color.  He cocked his wrist and made a pitching 
motion as he replied, "There's no address.  Nothing at all 
written on the box.  It was handed to the front desk with a 
request to send it down to me.  No note, no explanation, no 
damned clue at all.  Security was highly amused when they 
saw what was in it."

She set the box back down and turned to her partner.  
Leaning one hip against the edge of his desk, she folded her 
arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow.

"What gives, Mulder?"  Her tone of voice was enquiring, 
though not without a trace of exasperated affection.

He shrugged.  

"Same old shit, huh?"  Scully's voice also held sympathy.  

"I swear, if I hear one more ET joke this week, I'm gonna hurl.  
Don't those low-brows have anything better to do than pick on 
me?"

"I guess it was your bad luck that the movie was re-released 
last weekend.  A whole new generation of people are just 
waiting to say 'ET, phone home.'"

He huffed in annoyance.  "Well, I think I've reached saturation 
point.  I've got half a mind to take the rest of the week off and 
stay home with my fish.  At least they only blow bubbles at 
me."

Pushing away from the desk, she reached over and patted him 
on the shoulder.  

"It's almost time to quit," she observed.  "Why don't we take off 
a little early tonight?" 

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.  "Why, Agent Scully.  
Are you suggesting we cut class?"

She smiled at him over her shoulder while she shoved papers 
into her briefcase.

"I don't think the principal will catch us if we're quick.  And 
I'll help you sneak past the playground bullies on our way out."

He squinted at a picture of Flukeman on his bulletin board and 
reared his arm back as if to lob the stone at it.  "Sometimes I 
just wish I could disappear."  He turned and underhanded the 
rock to her.

She caught it and juggled it from hand to hand.  "I don't want 
you to."  

"You don't?"    

"Nope.  Skinner would expect me to write up a report on how, 
why, and when you vanished, complete with trace evidence, 
lab results, and eyewitness statements.  In triplicate.  You're 
not leaving me with all that paperwork."

"You're all heart, Scully.  I knew I could count on you."

She tossed the rock back, zipped her briefcase shut, then 
picked up her purse.   

"I'm helping you play hooky, aren't I?"   

Mulder took one more look at the featureless stone and set it 
on the desk.  Grabbing a couple of folders, he walked to the 
door, where he waited for her to join him.  She flipped the light 
switches as she went out, plunging the office into artificial 
twilight.  

"So, where would you disappear to?" she asked.

"I don't know.  Maybe the mountains.  I could live like a 
survivalist--hunting for food, going into town once a year for 
supplies.  I grow a great scraggly beard.  I hear Ted 
Kaczinski's cabin is available."

Mulder pulled the door closed behind him.   The sound of the 
lock clicking into place echoed through the empty office.  

In the middle of a pile of papers on Mulder's desk, a pool of 
light spread out from the base of the gray rock.  Slowly, the 
light intensified, pulsing until the entire stone glowed a bright, 
clear, rose pink.  Small symbols appeared to have been 
carved into the stone, invisible until illuminated from within.  
The light lasted for several minutes, casting strobing shadows 
over the pictures, books, and cabinets in the room, shining 
brighter than the limited light filtering through the high-set 
windows.  One last incandescent flash, then the light winked 
out.

In the middle of Mulder's desk, sat a small, gray rock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J. Edgar Hoover Building
Wednesday 
9:27 AM

Mulder was late.

Murphy's Law had him by the nugs like a pit bull.  First, the 
power must have gone off during the night.  Then his alarm's 
battery back-up should have kicked in, but it didn't.  He'd 
jerked awake with that feeling of panic you get when you know 
something is wrong.  One look at his watch and he was 
running to the bathroom.  He turned on the shower to heat up 
while he took the fastest leak of his life and was out of the 
bathroom, dressed and into the car in under ten minutes.  No 
time to shave, make coffee, eat or read the paper.  He hated 
mornings like this.

Now, to top it all off, people were behaving like morons.  Rain 
always seemed to bring out the worst drivers.  The downpour 
was bad enough all by itself.  His wipers could hardly keep up 
with the water sluicing off the windshield and visibility was 
rotten.  He really didn't need to deal with horns blowing and 
cars swerving all over the place, too. 

It wasn't until he got out of the car that he remembered the 
files sitting on his coffee table.  The ones he'd taken home to 
study so he could submit a 302 to Skinner.

Just perfect.  

He nearly collided in the doorway with Scully as she was 
leaving the office.

"Don't even bother, Mulder.  Skinner wants us upstairs."

He did an about-face and followed her to the elevator.  

"Dammit.  I really could have used some coffee," he griped.

"Didn't you get any at home?"

"I barely had time to shower this morning.  I was running too 
late already."

She backed up a step and gave him the once-over.  He shot 
her an offended glare.  "I said I showered, so don't look at me 
like that."

Her reply was cut off by the arrival of the elevator.  They 
entered and Mulder pushed the button for the fourth floor.  He 
idly glanced around at the interior while the numbers blinked 
on and off as they passed the floors.

He admired Scully's reflection in the polished metal of the 
elevator's walls.  That particular shade of blue always made 
her eyes seem more vivid.  Her suit was almost exactly the 
same color as the shirt he'd chosen that morning.  In fact, that 
was one reason why he'd bought it.  They'd never worn the 
suit and shirt at the same time before, though.  His eyes 
shifted to his own reflection so he could enjoy their matching 
outfits.

Only his reflection wasn't there.  Mulder blinked.  Still no 
reflection.  He rubbed his eyes, then looked down.  He was 
wearing a light brown suit with a blue shirt and a brown and 
blue tie.   But not when he looked at the metal wall.  Where he 
should have seen his own reflection, there was nothing. 

He glanced at Scully out of the corner of his eye.  Her suit was 
a shade darker than his shirt, and she was wearing a silky 
white blouse under the jacket.  He lifted a hand to his tie, 
nonchalantly brushing against her coat sleeve.

She was solid. The tie was solid under his fingers when he 
adjusted it.  His hips were solid when he lowered his hands 
into his pockets.  His feet were solid when he shifted from one 
to the other.

So why couldn't he see himself on the wall?

The question became moot when the doors opened at the 
fourth floor.  They exited through a crowd of fellow agents, 
several of whom greeted Scully briefly.  Mulder stared at the 
people who had turned toward the closing doors, but not a 
single one made eye contact. 

One of the mail room clerks was coming out of Skinner's office 
when they got to the door.  Kevin and Mulder had a running 
bet going about the current World Series hopefuls so they 
never lost an opportunity to talk baseball when they happened 
to meet.  This time, though, Kevin simply nodded a greeting at 
Scully and pushed his mail cart down the hall.  It was as if 
Mulder wasn't standing there.  

Kim looked up as they entered the office and said, "He's 
waiting for you, Agent Scully.  Go right in."

Mulder waved at Kim, but she'd already returned to her work.  
She'd addressed Scully, but not him.  There was something 
extremely funky going on.  He looked over at the windows, 
darkened by the pouring rain outside.  He could see the 
reflection of Scully walking toward Skinner's office.  Alone, in 
spite of the fact that he was right on her heels.  First the 
elevator wall, now the window.  The people getting on the 
elevator, Kevin, Kim... Was it possible?

He leaned down as Scully reached for the doorknob and 
whispered in her ear.  "Don't say anything.  Just pretend like 
I'm not here."  She opened her mouth.  "Trust me.  Don't let on 
that you can see me.  I'll explain later."

Scully gave him an irritated look before she yanked the door 
open.  She walked over to the chairs in front of Skinner's desk 
and sat down.  Mulder stood behind his usual seat.  Skinner 
looked at Scully, the open door, back to Scully, and said, 
"Where's Mulder?"

That's a really good question, Mulder thought.  Scully 
appeared to follow Skinner's glance toward the door, but 
Mulder could tell that she was really looking at him out of the 
corner of her eye.  He knew she could see him, but she did as 
he'd asked anyway.

"He's held up in traffic," she lied.  "He should be here any 
minute."

"Well I've got another meeting with the Director so you'll have 
to brief him when he gets here."  He pushed a folder across 
the desk.  Scully picked it up.  "The Columbus, Ohio, field 
office has requested your help on a series of bank robberies.  
Someone there knows your work and asked for you two 
specifically.  There was some mention of paranormal activity at 
the last crime scene.  You'll find all the information you need 
in the file."

Scully tucked the file under her arm and stood.  "Very well, Sir.  
We'll leave as soon as Mulder gets here."

Skinner began gathering things together in obvious dismissal.  
Scully turned to Mulder and raised an eyebrow.  She'd 
apparently caught on to the fact that not once had Skinner 
acknowledged the other agent's presence.  Mulder could see 
Scully and Skinner reflected in the window behind the desk, 
but his own image was still very much missing.  He was 
starting to get an inkling about why but this wasn't the place to 
discuss it.  He placed his hand on Scully's back and steered 
her toward the door.

As they walked through the outer office, Mulder decided to 
perform a small test.  He whispered in Scully's ear, "Say 
something to Kim.  Anything at all."

Scully glanced at him over her shoulder.  "Um, goodbye, Kim," 
she said, waving out the file folder.  "We're headed out of town 
again."

Kim shook her head and smiled.  "Have a safe trip, Agent 
Scully.  See you when you get back."

Mulder's inkling was becoming a full-blown theory.  They 
needed to get back to the basement and talk.  He elected to 
take the stairs, to avoid other agents and the enigma of the 
blank elevator wall.  He could tell Scully wanted some answers 
but he stalled her questions with a quiet, "In a minute."

Once they reached their office, he bypassed it and headed 
straight for the restroom.  He gestured at the door.  "Ladies 
first."

Scully balked.  "But this is the men's room!"

Mulder made an exaggerated scan of the hallway, leaning 
around his partner to peer in both directions.  "I don't see any 
hordes with crossed legs pushing to get in.  After you."

She scowled at him as she smacked the door open and 
entered.  "I don't remember you needing help in the bathroom 
before, so why are we here?"

He walked to the sinks along the far wall and waved her over.  
"Check it out."

Scully stopped beside him, then looked in the mirror--and did a 
double-take.  Mulder had never seen anyone actually do that 
before.  It would have been comical if they were in a cartoon.  
But they weren't, and Scully's reflection was the only one 
visible, in spite of his otherwise-solid presence next to her.

Wide-eyed, she look at Mulder, then back to her solitary 
image, and back to Mulder, and back to the mirror, again and 
again and again.  Finally, she shook her head.  "No.  This is--  
It's impossible!"

"Yes, it's impossible.  However..."  Mulder snatched a piece of 
paper towel from the dispenser on the wall.  He gestured 
between himself and the mirror, where the scrap of paper 
seemed to flutter in midair.  "How do you explain this?"

"Something must be wrong with the mirror."  Mulder barked a 
laugh.  "Or my eyes.  Something's wrong with my eyes.  I 
stayed up late last night--"

"And Skinner's eyes?  And Kim's?  Skinner might wish to 
ignore my existence at times, but Kim would never be that 
rude.  And how about everyone else we've encountered who 
acted as if I wasn't there?  I'll bet this explains the crazy 
drivers this morning.  I'm invisible, so it looked like my car 
was driving itself."  A thought suddenly occurred to him.  If he 
really *was* invisible, did that mean...?

Mulder turned and ran toward the restroom door.  He collided 
with it face first.  The force of the rebound knocked him to the 
floor.

"Mulder!"  

He heard her footsteps clatter to his side but he was too busy 
clutching his throbbing nose to look up.  "Okay.  So I'm 
invisible but not incorporeal.  I need to remember that."

Scully dropped to her knees next to him and pulled his hands 
away from his face.  "What the hell were you doing?"

"Testing a theory."  He winced as she probed his tender 
proboscis none too gently.  "Is it broken?"

She sat back on her heels.  "No, just bruised.  Not that you 
don't deserve a broken nose after a stunt like that.  What 
theory were you testing?  The solidity of restroom doors in the 
Hoover building?"

"MY solidity.  I'm invisible.  I wanted to find out if I'm also 
insubstantial."

Scully snorted.  "Well you didn't need to run full-tilt at a door 
to find out.  You drove here, didn't you?"

Mulder frowned.  "Yeah."

"Did you fall through the seat?  Pass your hands through the 
steering wheel?  I assume you were able to open the door 
since you got into and out of the car."

"Ah.  So you're saying I've already proven my own solidity in a 
less painful manner."  He felt stupid for not seeing it on his 
own.  After all, he'd touched Scully in the elevator and while 
leaving Skinner's office, and he *hadn't* passed through her 
body.  "I guess I just wasn't thinking."

She stood and brushed the knees of her pants.  "Looks like 
your brain is invisible, too." 

He pushed himself off the floor and stood beside her in front 
of the sinks.  "Does this mean you accept that I'm not visible?"

She looked from him to the mirror again.  "I suppose I have to.  
The evidence is pretty overwhelming."

"YES!"  He didn't respond to his partner's glare but he did 
refrain from pumping his fist in the air.  "Do you know what this 
means?"

"It means you're defying the laws of nature and, for some 
unknown reason, I may be the only person in the world who 
can see you."

"It also means that we have proof of a paranormal 
phenomenon.  But let's do another test."

He shoved the restroom door open, barely catching it on the 
backswing before it whacked Scully in the face.  He sprinted 
down the hall, digging out his key ring in his rush to the office.  
Fumbling the key into the lock, Mulder wondered whether they 
would appear to be hanging in midair if anyone but Scully was 
around to observe.  The office door flew back against the wall 
as he opened and pushed at the same time.  Now where had 
he put that camera...?

Scully's footfalls tapped into the room behind him.  "Mulder, 
what--?"

He pulled a Polaroid Instamatic out of his bottom desk drawer 
with a flourish.  "Ta-da!  Here, Scully.  Pretend you're Ansel 
Adams."

She took the camera with a puzzled frown.  "What am I taking 
pictures of?"

"ME!"  Mulder cocked one arm behind his head and stuck out 
his hip.  "Be sure to get my best side."  

He heard her mumble, "I'd have to be standing in back of you." 
but he let it go.  The camera clicked, flashed, whirred, and spit 
out a thick, blank photo sheet.  Mulder snatched the picture 
from the camera's slot and waved it back and forth. Then he 
held up his keys.

"Now take another one like this.  Be sure to get my keys in the 
shot."

The camera flashed and spit out another black sheet.  Scully 
pulled that one out of the slot and absently waved it in the air.  
"Now what?"

"Now, I make a phone call while we wait for the results."  He 
tossed his keys onto the desk and picked up the phone 
receiver with his free hand.  He tucked it under his chin and 
punched the buttons.  The other end rang twice before it was 
picked up.

"Lone Gunman.  What can we do ya for?"

"Hey, Langly," Mulder said.  Gesturing for Scully to join him, he 
punched the speakerphone button.

"Hey, Mulder-man!  What's shakin'?"

Mulder gave Scully a thumbs-up.  "Have you seen my..." --he 
glanced quickly around the room and spotted the key ring on 
his desk-- "keys over there?"

"How did you get home if you don't have your keys?"

"It was a spare set.  I just had it made and then left it 
somewhere."

Langly guffawed.  "Well they're not gonna do you any good 
*that* way!  Sounds like you need a spare set of your spare 
set."  

Scully grinned and Mulder stuck his tongue out at her.  "Yeah 
yeah.  Save it for your stand-up routine.  Are they there or 
not?"

"Nope.  Haven't seen 'em.  We'll give you a call if they turn up.  
Did you look in your couch cushions?  That's where Frohike's 
always end up."

They heard Frohike's voice in the background.  "What always 
ends up in the couch?"

"Never mind," Langly hollered back.  "This is a private 
conversation, so butt out.  Anyway, Mulder-dude, when you 
coming over?  I've got this great new video game you're gonna 
love.  It's not on the market yet, but the graphics are so--"

"Next week sometime.  We're headed out of town so I'll give 
you a call when we get back."

"Awesome, dude!  See ya then."

"Yeah."  The connection broke and Mulder grimaced.  "I sure 
as hell *hope* you'll see me."

"They can hear you," Scully said.  "Or at least Langly could."

"I suspect all of them would have heard me if they'd been on 
speakerphone, too.  I'll bet everyone can hear me.  They just 
can't see me."  He looked at the Polaroid photo in his hand.  
"Or can they?"

Scully laid her photo on the desk and Mulder set his beside it.  
One of them showed nothing except the normal contents of 
the office.  The other included a set of keys hanging in midair 
with a partially-developed Polaroid print suspended next to it.

Mulder turned to his partner, reality sinking in.  "So it's true.  
I'm solid and audible, but invisible.  Where does that leave 
me?"

Scully picked up the file Skinner had given her.  "It leaves you 
on special request for a series of bank robberies in Ohio.  We 
still have a case to work.  Let's find the first plane going that 
way and get out there."  She picked up the phone but Mulder 
pushed down the receiver button.  

"We can't fly," he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't get on a plane."

"You most certainly--"  Her mouth dropped open.  "Oh.  That 
could be a problem."

Mulder grinned.  "Could be fun, too.  Watching security scratch 
their heads when I set off the metal detector.  Trying to explain 
why you need two seats.  It might be a bit of a squeeze with 
both of us in the bathroom at the same time."

"Why would we both have to go at the same time?"  

"Doors opening and closing on their own.  Or you opening the 
door for me and then standing in the hall.  Neither one would 
be easy to explain, but it could be entertaining."

"No."  Scully set the phone back down.  "You're right.  We'll 
have to drive.  How far is it to Columbus?"

Mulder switched on his computer monitor and sat down to find 
out.  "We'll have to swing by both apartments and pack.  I 
can't very well drive there on my own."

"We'll take my car.  Leave yours here until we figure out what 
the hell is going on."  

"Why yours?"

"Because I'll be doing all the driving and I won't have to adjust 
the seat."

Mulder smirked.  "Right.  I almost forgot about your little legs."

Scully sighed.  "You're getting far too much enjoyment out of 
this, Mulder."

"How many times do I get to be in my own X-File, Scully?"  He 
threw his arms wide.  "Let me savor it for a while."

"Trust me," she grumbled, "it's not all it's cracked up to be."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FBI Field Office
Columbus, OH
Thursday
8:53 AM

Mulder was tired of many things in his life, but at the moment, 
invisibility was at the top of his list.  As a result of being 
invisible, he was also tired of eating in the car so people 
wouldn't freak out over food hanging in midair.  He was *really* 
tired of goosing himself on the gear shift every time he crawled 
over the car's console to get out the driver's door.  He certainly 
couldn't open his own door and it just figured that neither of 
them would own a car with a bench seat.  They were both tired 
of him following Scully into the ladies' room to take a leak.  
The hilarity of it wore off after the second time and left him 
feeling like a seven-year-old who isn't "big-boy" enough to go 
into the men's room on his own.  He had to be careful not to 
brush against other people, not to walk too loudly, not to 
cough, sneeze or fart without first checking to see who might 
be around.  He'd nearly given the lady at the convenience 
store a stroke when he said something to Scully in a normal 
tone of voice.  He was going to be stuck in permanent whisper 
soon.

They'd talked about nothing except his "situation," as Scully 
called it, on the six-hour drive.  They still hadn't figured out 
why he was invisible, why his clothes were also invisible or 
why his keys and anything else he picked up weren't.  He was 
tired of talking about it, he was tired of thinking about it and 
he was tired of *being* invisible.  He'd quit savoring hours ago.

By the time they'd both packed and gotten ready to go 
yesterday, it had been well after noon, so they'd arrived in 
Columbus late.  They checked into a motel--or rather Scully 
checked in while Mulder sat in the car, trying not to fidget and 
make the car bounce.  There wasn't much for them to do, so 
he'd contacted the field office by phone and was told to report 
to the SAC at nine in the morning.  The rest of the evening 
was spent channel surfing and trying not to look in mirrors.  
He'd been forced to give Scully his room key, since she didn't 
want to run the risk of him opening the door when someone 
was watching.  Which meant that he was a prisoner, inside or 
out of his room, unless Scully worked the door for him.  He'd 
called the front desk and asked if they had any rooms with 
connecting doors but he was laughed at.  The good old days 
were gone, it would seem.

So here they were, striding confidently into the field office 
lobby, one of them visible and the other possibly a figment of 
her imagination.  That was actually one of Scully's more 
desperate suggestions in the car.  Mulder honestly didn't want 
to consider it.  How do you live life as a figment?

Scully flipped open her ID wallet for the receptionist.  "Agents 
Mulder and Scully, reporting for the bank robbery detail."

The woman at the desk peered around the diminutive agent.  
"Um, I only see one of you.  Did you lose something?"

The wallet snapped shut with an irritated clap.  "I'm reporting 
in for both of us.  Agent Mulder is at the motel, reading over 
the file.  Kindly direct me to the special agent in charge."

The receptionist hooked a thumb over her shoulder.  "Fifth 
floor, main aisle, number thirteen.  Elevator's over there."

Mulder followed his partner in the direction indicated, trying 
very hard to walk softly and match his long steps with her 
shorter ones.  There was still an unusual echo, though.  Why 
couldn't they have splurged on a little carpeting?

The elevator doors opened on cubicle city.  Mulder barely 
managed to stop himself whistling.  The whole thing was 
partitioned off by short walls, the hum of voices drifting over 
the tops.  The cubicles were fairly large but obviously still 
roofless offices without doors.  How quaintly impersonal.

"Number thirteen, straight ahead," Scully muttered.  

Mulder silently counted off odd numbers on the left, even 
numbers on the right, as they made their way down the aisle.  
Lucky number thirteen was at the end of the row, bathed in 
sunlight from the full-wall windows.  He peered over Scully's 
shoulder as she stopped in the entry to announce herself.  He 
swallowed a gasp and nearly turned tail when he recognized 
Special Agent Gloria Lukas sitting at the desk.  

Glorious Gloria, otherwise known as Agent Barracuda.  She'd 
cut a swath a mile wide through the Hoover bullpen a few 
years back.  The stories about her were the stuff of legend.  
Mulder might have been tempted at one time, but he wasn't 
interested in use-it-up, wear-it-out flings anymore.  He tried to 
steer clear of her as much as he could and used Scully to run 
interference whenever he couldn't.  They'd worked a case 
together a couple months ago, just before Lukas was 
transferred to the field office.  She was a shark, a real man-
eater, and she'd been chomping after Mulder's manly bits 
throughout the investigation.  She was so relentless he'd 
thought about starting rumors that he was gay, but Scully'd 
pointed out it would cause a whole new set of problems.  At 
the moment, he was feeling inclined to look on his "situation" 
as a fortuitous gift from Heaven rather a pain in his invisible 
ass.

Agent Lukas stood and offered her hand while trying to 
nonchalantly check the apparently empty hall.  "It's good to 
see you again, Agent Scully.  Glad you could come.  So 
where's Agent Mulder?"

Scully threw out a variable of a cover story they'd concocted 
on the drive up to explain his absence.  "He decided to visit a 
few of the crime scenes first thing, get a feel for the area."

Lukas looked peeved.  "We could have done that later.  I have 
more information he needs on the last holdup.  That's the 
reason why I called you in to help."

Scully held out a hand.  "I can give him the information when 
he gets back.  I'm meeting him at the motel.  He wanted to 
start going over the profiles you already have.  See if he can 
add anything."

The SAC picked up a folder then hesitated, tapping it against 
her palm while she studied the woman in front of her through 
narrowed eyes.  The silence stretched out for several seconds 
before she slapped the file into Scully's still-outstretched hand.  
"Fine.  But I want a report on this by the end of the day.  A 
witness claims she saw one of the bank robbers walk into the 
building *through* a wall.  That sounds like your territory, so 
you two get to handle it.  Are you and Agent Mulder sleeping 
together?"

Mulder was proud of Scully for not immediately decking their 
colleague.  Other people had speculated, in front of them and 
behind their backs, but no one had ever simply blurted it out 
that way.  Scully blinked several times but didn't reply.

Agent Lukas held up a hand as if she expected a response.  
"I'm not asking out of nosiness.  Being the SAC on this case, I 
need to know if anything outside the office is likely to affect 
your work.  An intimate relationship with your partner could be 
considered a safety hazard, under dangerous circumstances.  
You understand, I'm sure."  Her smile was obviously supposed 
to be sincere and "just between us girls" but it looked 
downright predatory to Mulder.  He wouldn't be surprised to 
see a triangular fin crest the top of the cubicle wall.

Scully squared her shoulders.  "No, we're not a couple."

That was an opening Mulder couldn't resist.  He leaned over 
her shoulder and murmured, "We only play one on TV."

Scully took half a step back--right on top of Mulder's foot.  It 
was all he could do not to scream into her ear but he couldn't 
prevent several pained squeaks leaking out around the hand 
he had clamped over his mouth.  She shifted her stance and 
applied all her weight to his instep for an interminable second.  
Mulder gritted his teeth until they creaked.  Who knew chunky 
heels could hurt so much?  Perhaps Scully was tired of his 
invisibility, too.  

She held up the folder and returned a steely-eyed "I know 
*exactly* what you're up to" smile that was very familiar.  "We'll 
get started on our angle right away.  Mulder will be in touch."

He couldn't tell if that was a threat aimed at him or rote 
response on Scully's part.  He didn't try to analyze it, limping 
off behind his partner as quietly as he could, back to the 
elevator.  

There was absolutely no way he'd put himself into the clutches 
of Glorious Gloria, invisible or not.  He'd call in his reports 
and fax anything he could think of for the profile.  He wasn't 
even sure he should visit the field office with Scully anymore, 
just in case Agent Lukas had some shark-like way of smelling fear.  
If she ever got her teeth into him, he wouldn't stand a chance.  

The elevator ride down was silent.  Or nearly so.  How odd.  
There was a soft hum, almost a faint, rhythmic thump.  The 
sound got louder, bit by bit, but it didn't seem to be coming out 
of a speaker system.  So where the hell...?

He looked down at Scully.  She was staring straight ahead 
with the file folder clasped behind her back, rocking on the 
balls of her feet--and quietly humming the theme song to 
"Jaws."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bide-A-Wee Motel
Friday
5:27 PM

Mulder ground the heels of his hands harshly into his eye 
sockets and seriously considered keeping it up until his 
eyeballs exploded.  The resulting pop might be satisfying, but 
the long term consequences probably wouldn't be worth the 
momentary relief.  Apparently, being invisible didn't mean a 
break from physical discomfort or exhaustion.

He'd spent the previous day trying to track down their witness 
via phone, with very limited success.  Most people assumed 
that an FBI badge conferred a certain amount of authority on 
the bearer but Mulder always found it amusing how many 
ways could be found to stonewall when someone didn't want 
to share information.  She was taking time off from work.  They 
didn't know where she was.  Bank policy prohibited giving out 
her home address.  Couldn't give out her phone number 
either.  When he finally threw his weight around and got both, 
no one was home.  

That worthless hunt had taken up most of the day, punctuated 
by alternately irate and seductive calls from Agent Lukas.  
Mulder suspected that he'd headed off a visit to the motel by 
phoning in his report, such as it was.  He'd have to remember 
not to open the door if someone knocked.  Scully had the key, 
so she wouldn't be the one knocking.  

They were running out of excuses for why he was avoiding 
Gloria Lukas.  So far they'd used working on the profile, out 
running, in the shower, on the phone, the profile again, 
checking out crime scenes and a couple that even HE wouldn't 
have believed.  He'd suggested to Scully that she simply tell 
Lukas he was invisible and she wouldn't be able to see him 
anyway, but all that earned him was a dirty look.

He'd finally settled down late yesterday evening to check out 
the profiles the bank robbery spree had generated.  One thing 
led to another and before he knew it, the dawn sun was 
blasting through the crack in the curtain, smack into his eyes.  
Another night spent at a table with his head pillowed on his 
arms.  He was going to be walking like Quasimodo if he 
couldn't get the cricks out of his neck.

A shower, a lot of coffee and enough grease to gag a maggot 
had done wonders for his outlook on life--until he'd finally 
tracked down their witness about three hours ago.  Apparently 
she was in a local hospital.  In the psych ward, to be exact.  
Once he unraveled the story from various staff and family 
members, it turned out that she'd been acting a bit strange 
lately, seeing and hearing things that were improbable, to say 
the least.  Like bank robbers walking through walls.  After the 
hold-up, the teller's family had finally convinced her to check 
into the hospital for evaluation.  So it looked like that was 
bloody fucking that as far as their witness to a paranormal 
event was concerned.  Mulder couldn't help but appreciate the 
irony of his own disappointment at finding their reason for 
being in Columbus was a wash-out.  

He could cause riots in a psych ward in his present condition.

He'd spent the last few hours going over the profiles again, 
which really didn't need another going-over, but it gave him 
something to do besides stew.  Everything the previous agents 
had come up about the bank robbers appeared good and 
stable.  There really wasn't much he could add.  And now it 
looked like they didn't actually need to stay, either.  He really 
wanted to head home, but he hated to ask Scully to get behind 
the wheel for another long drive when they wouldn't get home 
until after midnight.  They could leave in the morning.  

Mulder stood and stretched his back.  Enough work.  He still 
had a nasty kink in his neck from last night.  Time to see if the 
room's pitiful excuse for a shower would take care of it.

He stripped and threw his grimy clothes on the chair in the 
corner.  Invisibility didn't seem to keep you any cleaner, he 
mused.  He still attracted dirt, but that became invisible, too, 
once it was on his clothes.  Now if he could invent dirt that 
became invisible on visible clothes, he could quit his day job.  
What good was invisibility if you couldn't market it?

Walking into the bathroom, he pulled back the shower curtain 
and stepped into the tub.  When he turned around to shut the 
sheet of plastic, the mirror caught his eye.  Reflected back at 
him was the shower curtain, gathered up at a steep angle, 
presumably all by itself, if the image in front of him could be 
believed.  The lines of a poem he'd enjoyed as a child ran 
through his mind.

As I was going up the stair
I met a man who wasn't there;
He wasn't there again today --
I wish, I wish he'd stay away.

Mulder had become Hughes Mearnes' "Little Man Who Wasn't 
There."  Only visible to Scully.  Maybe he was her personal 
delusion.  A hallucination.  A vampire?  Supposedly, vampires 
couldn't be seen in a mirror.  He didn't remember seeing any 
bite wounds, but he felt his neck anyway. Except vampires 
*were* visible to people and he wasn't.  No, better scratch 
vampire.  A ghost.  Could he have died and not realized it?  
But that wouldn't explain his ability to affect objects or the 
fact that other people could hear him.  So he was back to 
delusion or hallucination.  None of his choices were terribly 
appealing.

The shower curtain rings rattled closed as he pulled it shut 
with some force and turned on the water.  The initial shot of 
cold felt good.  It reminded him that he *was* alive, 
substantial, flesh and blood, albeit invisible flesh and blood.  
He tried not to think about what the future held for him, but the 
longer he remained in an unseeable state, the worse his 
prospects appeared.  Would he have to quit the FBI?  How 
was he supposed to do that if they couldn't see him?  Call in 
his resignation?  That throbbing vein in Skinner's temple would 
finally rupture.  If he quit, he wouldn't be able to work with 
Scully, the only person in the world who could see him.  But if 
they *did* continue to work together somehow, he could end 
up being a danger to her.  He could forget himself at a crucial 
moment and cause a distraction.  Hell, his mere presence 
might be a distraction to HER because she'd be the only one 
who knew he was there.  If they couldn't find a way to undo 
whatever had happened, he could foresee a solitary, lonely 
existence as the only way to avoid causing inadvertent harm 
to others.  He'd have to move out into the wilderness 
somewhere and become a hermit.  

Or better yet, he'd scavenge in the restaurants of downtown 
DC, spiriting away food from under the noses of the chefs.  He 
could start his own urban legend.  The Hungry Ghost of 
Capitol Hill.  Would wearing chains to rattle be overkill?   

Mulder snorted, then coughed on a noseful of water.  He'd 
finished washing so he might as well get out.  He was only 
stalling because there was nothing else to do.  

He shut off the water and drew back the shower curtain, 
carefully keeping his gaze off the mirror this time.  Grabbing a 
towel, he flung the door open, then jumped back behind it 
when he saw Scully watching him from the table near the bed.  
He quickly wrapped the towel around his hips before venturing 
out again.  He saw a smile twitching at the corners of her 
mouth as she distributed fast food packages from a bag.

"You're invisible, Mulder," she said.  "There's nothing to see."

"Ouch!  You emasculate me, Scully."  

"My point exactly."

He huffed a sarcastic "ha ha ha" as he grabbed a pair of 
sweatpants and a T-shirt from his luggage, then retreated to 
the bathroom to dress.  She could have her little dig after the 
last two days.  In spite of the cheeky grin, she looked worn 
out.  She'd spent all her time running back and forth to the 
field office at the whim of SAC Lukas, who would then proceed 
to grill her on where Mulder was, what time he'd be back and 
probably a number of other things Scully hadn't told him about.  
She'd visited crime scenes, interviewed bank tellers and done 
all the legwork, leaving him secluded in his room to minimize 
his chances of ending up on the front page of the National 
Enquirer.

Scully was busy eating when Mulder entered the room again 
so he joined her at the table.  He wasn't especially hungry but 
she'd been nice enough to buy him supper.  He might as well 
eat.

When they were done, he grabbed the TV remote, stretched 
out on the bed and started channel surfing while she picked 
up a magazine she'd brought with her and stayed at the table 
to read.  Mulder stopped surfing when he found a Discovery 
Channel program on string theory.  He wasn't terribly 
interested in it, but almost anything was better than listening 
to himself think and coming up empty.  There really wasn't 
anything else they could do on the case.  Chances were good 
they'd be heading back home tomorrow.  He'd fax his input on 
the profiles in the morning, so they really weren't needed 
anymore, officially.  Agent Maneater might disagree but 
fortunately she couldn't see Mulder to take a bite out of him.  
Thank goodness for invisibility!

He was dozing, barely listening to the TV program, when he 
heard Scully gasp.  He opened his eyes and scanned the 
room for her.  She was sitting at the tiny table with a stunned 
expression on her face.  

"What's the matter?"  He yawned.  "Did I belch in my sleep?  
You know what happens when I eat Mexican." 

"You're invisible."  Her voice was nearly a whisper, so low he 
almost missed her words.

When he realized what she'd said, he tsked.  "Scully, we've 
known that for almost three days.  Don't tell me you just now 
got it."

"NO.  I mean I *know* why you're invisible."

That made him sit up straight.  "You know?  How?  Why?"

"I don't know how, but I think I know why."

"So tell me."

"It's physics, Mulder.  Basic physics."

He flopped flat on his back again.  "Oh.  Is that all?"

"I'll demonstrate."  

Mulder propped himself up on one elbow to watch.  She lifted 
a file folder from the table and shook it at him.

"I can affect objects.  Therefore, I have mass.  Correct?"

"Correct.  So?"

She pointed to the dresser.  "Go pick up the newspaper."

He looked a question at her, but she just pointed again.  He 
groaned melodramatically as he levered himself off the bed, 
then trudged the short distance to the dresser.  Picking up the 
paper, he held it out to her.  "Now what?"

"Look in the mirror."

Reflected back at him was a newspaper floating in mid air.  He 
moved his arm and the image moved opposite to him.  He let 
go of the paper and it plummeted to the dresser top.  

"Okay.  I see your point.  But that doesn't explain why I'm 
invisible."

"That was just Exhibit A.  So we've established that you still 
have mass.  You also continue to affect the air around you."

He sniffed his armpit.  "Are you implying that I'm no longer as 
fresh as an Irish spring?"

He was hoping for a small smile, but her scientist's face was 
firmly in place.

"I'm sure if you went for a run and then walked into a room full 
of people they'd be able to smell you, but that's not what I 
meant.  I mean you're still audible.  Frohike heard you on the 
phone.  People have reacted to your comments when you 
didn't keep your voice low enough.  You're still creating spoken 
sound waves.  That's Exhibit B."

"Oh.  Right.  So I'm able to affect things by touch, people can 
hear me and I probably smell bad.  Which proves?"

"Which proves that you still exist in a physical sense."

"So why can't anyone see me except you?"

"Because you're not refractive anymore."

He frowned.  "I think I've just been insulted."

"When I insult you Mulder, you'll know.  I mean light isn't 
refracting off your surface."

"I'm not reflecting light like a mirror?"

"No, I said 'refracting,' not 'reflecting.'  Don't you know the 
basic principles of light?  They teach this kind of thing in high 
school." 

"I must have gone to the wrong high school, then.  Lay it on 
me, Bill Nye."

Scully began to pace and Mulder settled back to listen.  "Okay.  
The basic principle behind how we see involves light bouncing 
back off of objects at various wavelengths.  Different 
frequencies of light disperse at different speeds, causing us to 
see them as different colors.  That's 'refraction.'  You with me 
so far?"

Mulder made an expansive gesture that urged her to continue.

"Visible wavelengths are either reflected, scattered or 
absorbed.  Opaque objects with a rough surface don't reflect 
like a mirror, so their color is determined by which wavelengths 
they scatter and which they absorb.  When we see an object, 
what we're really seeing is the light that *isn't* being absorbed.  
We see a blue coat because all the light is absorbed by the 
cloth *except* the scattered wavelengths that create blue.  
Those refract back at us and our eyes interpret that 
wavelength as blue.  It's the same with all the other colors, too.  
If you're colorblind, your eyes don't have the tools needed to 
interpret the colors properly, so you see shades of gray or 
brown.  But you do still see *some* color at those particular 
wavelengths.  Did that make sense?"

"Yeah, it did.  So how do you think that applies to me suddenly 
becoming The Phantom of the FBI?"

"Like I said before, Mulder, you're not refracting.  Light isn't 
scattering when it hits you, it's being absorbed.  All of it.  
Every wavelength there is.  No refraction, no colors to see, no 
visible object."

That made a hell of a lot of sense.  "Damn.  But what about 
my clothes?  Why aren't they walking around like the pale-
green-pants-with-nobody-inside-them?"

"Like what kind of pants?"

"Dr. Seuss, Scully.  The guy who kept going to the Snide fields 
and bumping into a pair of empty pants hanging in the air.  It 
was one of Samantha's favorite stories."  The puzzled 
expression in her eyes didn't change.  "Never mind.  Just 
answer the question.  What about my clothes?"

"I don't know why your clothes are invisible, too.  If I had to 
guess, I'd say whatever caused you to disappear also affects 
anything that's actually attached to you."  

"So if I took off my clothes right now...?"

"Each piece would appear on the floor as you dropped it and 
I'd get my own private strip-tease."

Mulder reached for the waistband of his sweats.  

Scully held up a hand.  "Stop right there, Gypsy Rose Lee.  
Now that we might have some idea why this happened, we 
need to figure out not only *how* you disappeared, but how to 
get you un-disappeared again."

The ringing of Mulder's cell phone interrupted any discussion 
they might have had on the subject of un-disappearing him.  It 
was Gloria Lukas and she was in SAC mode.  

"Another bank was hit just as they were closing," she barked.  
"It's right around the corner from you and the suspect is on 
foot.  Security caught the get-away driver but the robber got 
away with the money.  Blond, black T-shirt, jeans, sneakers.  
He'll be carrying a bag or something.  Get outside and see if 
you can catch him.  I've got squad cars on the way but you're 
closer."  She hung up without waiting for him to speak.

Mulder tossed the phone on the bed and started hunting for 
his shoes while he filled Scully in.  Shoes on, he snatched up 
the room key and his gun, never breaking stride on his way to 
the door.  Scully stopped him with a hand to his chest.

"Give me the gun.  Mine's in my room."

He blinked in surprise.  "And what will I use?"

"You won't," she replied.  "Look in the mirror."

Behind the dresser, the reflection of a handgun floated 
seemingly by itself.

"Shit!"  Mulder thrust the weapon into his partner's hand and 
yanked the door open.  "Fine.  You take the gun but I'm still 
watching your back."

Scully nodded and dashed out the door.  Mulder followed, 
automatically searching for their suspect.  The area was 
mostly strip plazas and motels, restaurants and fast-food 
joints.  It was a warm evening, so there were plenty of people 
around, but not that many just aimlessly walking.  Most were 
going from their cars to a particular destination.  Except for 
one guy headed their way with a sack in his hand.  Mulder 
squinted into the distance.  Black T-shirt, jeans, blond.  Bingo.

"Hey Scully," he called, "crook ahoy."

She caught sight of the suspect at almost the same time that 
he saw her.  "Freeze!" Scully yelled, swinging the gun into 
view.  "Federal Agent!"

The robber turned and took off into the street.  Scully swore 
and followed.  Cars swerved as they dodged in and out of 
traffic, which was mercifully slow due to rush-hour congestion.  
Mulder pounded along right on Scully's heels but he had to 
keep reminding himself that he wasn't visible.  He had a 
narrow miss with a minivan that slowed down to avoid Scully, 
not knowing there was someone equally as solid behind her.  
Cars weren't going to stop if they couldn't see him.  

The suspect made a hard right turn behind a grocery store 
with Scully tearing in his wake.  But Mulder had read the case 
reports and profiles.  If this was the same guy who'd pulled all 
the other robberies, he knew the area.  The get-away cars 
were abandoned in residential neighborhoods a couple blocks 
from the bank, discarded clothing nearby.  Storefronts were 
such blank canvases, perfect for making things stand out 
against them.  It was easier to hide in the trees and shrubs 
around houses.  This guy was going to double back somehow 
and try to stick to the MO.  

Mulder decided to play a hunch.  Instead of following Scully, 
he ran past the building and looked for the nearest houses.  
Down a side street, sprinklers pulsed out fountains of water in 
the middle of many a neatly-trimmed yard.  Back by the 
grocery, he saw Scully come around the other end of the 
building.  She looked back and forth, obviously bewildered by 
the disappearance of her fugitive.  Just as Mulder thought, 
he'd given her the slip, but as he'd also thought, the criminal 
never strays far from his familiar routines.  A shirtless man in 
jeans, carrying a bag over his shoulder, had walked out from 
behind a garage and was aimlessly strolling back toward the 
shopping district.  

Mulder waved to Scully, jumping up and down to get her 
attention, pointing at the approaching suspect.  She had the 
gun, the authority and the visibility to arrest this guy.  Mulder 
had to get her closer or he'd escaped again.  She saw him and 
took off at a run again.  Unfortunately the robber also saw 
HER and turned to flee.  

That's when Mulder decided he'd had enough running for one 
day.  He dove through the nearest sprinkler with his arms over 
his head.  Water splashed off his face and body, drenched his 
clothes and chilled his skin.  Mulder imagined he must look like 
some sort of water spirit with the spray vaguely outlining a 
massive form rising from the water.

It was worth a soaking.  The robber yelped and lost his footing, 
his sneakers skidding on the wet grass.  He went down, too 
startled by the apparition in front of him to regain his feet.  
The distraction was just long enough for Scully to catch up with 
them and get the cuffs on.  Mulder felt a sense of satisfaction 
he'd been missing the last few days.  He'd watched his 
partner's back and helped catch the bad guy.  Maybe his 
situation wasn't hopeless after all.

Scully hauled their suspect to his feet, then marched over to 
the curb to sit.  She looked at her partner and her eyes grew 
wide.

"Mulder!" she hissed.  "Get under an overhang."

"Why?"

"The water drops on you are sparkling in the light.  Find some 
shade.  Or better yet, go back to the motel and wait for me."

He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone with the suspect, 
but sirens were coming closer by the second and every extra 
pair of eyes meant an increased chance of someone finding 
out about him.  He nodded to let her know he'd heard, then 
trotted toward the grocery store, wiping streams of water out of 
his hair and eyes.  

He wouldn't go back to the motel just yet.  He could stay in the 
shadows, keep an eye on the scene just in case anything went 
wrong.  Being invisible might be a liability, but it could also be 
an asset.  If his partner needed his help, he'd be there as fast 
as his legs could take him.  He wasn't about to abandon her, 
National Enquirer or no National Enquirer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

J. Edgar Hoover Building
Saturday
2:46 PM

Mulder unlocked the office door and flipped on the lights.  The 
drive back from Ohio had been even less fun than the one 
going there because he knew what to expect.  Without really 
discussing it, they'd both agreed to stop at the office and work 
on their report before going home.  Wherever home was for 
Mulder.  Was he going to have to spend the rest of his life 
living with Scully?  He couldn't drive to his own apartment and 
he suspected Scully was already sick of driving him around.  In 
fact, he might never be able to drive again.  His car could end 
up turning into a pile of rust in the Hoover Building garage.  
Mulder's frustration level had increased exponentially with 
every mile closer to home.  

Scully headed for the coffee maker while Mulder flopped down 
in his desk chair.  He picked up the rock he'd left on the desk 
before their trip.  Had it only been a few days ago?  It felt 
like a lifetime.  

"Hey, Scully," he said.

She walked out of the back room with the coffee pot in her 
hand.  "What?"

"Since no one except you can see me, maybe I should walk 
around naked.  Why bother with clothes if I'm invisible?"

"Good idea, Mulder."  She headed toward the door.  "But 
before you start streaking, don't forget that you're still 
corporeal and therefore subject to the cuts and scrapes of 
visible flesh.  How much skin do you want to expose to 
possible damage?"  She held up the coffee pot.  "I'm going for 
water.  Don't strip before I get back."

Mulder tossed the rock in the air and caught it again.  "I'm 
tired of being invisible already," he mumbled. 

"What did you say?" Scully called from the hallway.

Mulder hollered back, "I said I wish I wasn't invisible anymore."

"That makes two of us."  

The rock in Mulder's hand started to grow warm.  Then 
warmer.  It felt like it was being heated from the inside.  He 
brought it up near his face.  It was glowing!  There was a pink 
light shining through symbols all over the stone.  Mulder turned 
it over and around as the light grew in intensity, silently 
pulsing in a regular rhythm.  It flashed brighter and brighter, 
the symbols winking on and off with every beat.  One last eye-
blinding flash, and Mulder was left holding a featureless rock 
again.

"SCULLY!"

She skidded around the doorframe, water splashing out of the 
coffee pot.  "What's wrong, Mulder?  What happened?"

"Did you see that?"  He knew his mouth was hanging open but 
he couldn't help it.

"See what?  I didn't see anything."

"This rock."  He held it up like an offering.  "It was glowing and 
warm and there was something carved into it, lit from inside by 
the glow and the light pulsed and pulsed and then it just 
winked out!  Look!"

Scully peered down at the hard, gray lump in his hand.  "Hang 
on.  I need coffee before I can get into this."  She retreated to 
the back room, leaving Mulder with his arm extended.

"What do you think it means?" he asked.  

"I don't know."  Water gurgled into the coffee maker.  "It didn't 
do that when you brought it into the office, did it?"

"No.  I've never seen it do anything like that before.  Granted, 
it's been here since last week and we haven't.  Who knows 
what it might have done while we were gone."

Scully walked back to his desk and took the rock from his 
hand.  She spun it around and studied all sides of it.  "Well it's 
not doing anything now.  I say we get to work on that report 
before we have to figure out how to get you home."

She set the rock on his desk and walked over to her briefcase.  
Mulder stared at the rock, waiting for it to do something else.  
He couldn't believe she'd just let it go like that, but maybe she 
was right.  One mystery at a time and work before mysteries.  

Still, Mulder sat and contemplated the stone while Scully dug 
into the report.  

The elevator chimed in the distance followed by footsteps in 
the hallway.  Mulder looked up from his study of the rock as a 
mail cart stopped outside the door.

Kevin, the mail clerk, stepped into the office, envelopes in 
hand.  "Mulder, don't you ever go home?" 

He automatically answered, "One might ask the same of you, 
Kevin," before the other man's words registered.  Kevin had 
called him by name.  He could see Mulder!

"Yeah, you know what they say," Kevin replied.  "Neither rain 
nor snow nor sleet nor weekends off."

"That's the post office," Mulder mumbled.  He had to get this 
guy out of here!  

"Well they seem to think it works for mail room clerks, too."  
Kevin jabbed a finger in Mulder's face.  "Cubs in a five-game 
sweep against the Yankees!  Double or nothing."

Mulder snorted.  "You're crazy.  The Cubs got nothing.  
Yankees all the way.  Six games just to make the Cubbies feel 
less like losers."

Kevin waved him off.  "You're the one who's crazy.  This is the 
year of the Cubs!  Don't stay too late.  See you next week, 
Agent Scully."

He pushed the mail cart back down the hall.  Mulder could 
barely contain himself until the elevator dinged.  The minute 
he heard the doors close, he jumped out of his seat.  

"Mirror!  Scully, give me a mirror!"

She jumped as well.  "Jesus, Mulder!  What are you yelling 
about now?"

"A mirror.  Do you have a mirror?"  He was practically hopping 
in his excitement.  

"Yeah."  She dug into her purse and came up with a tiny hand 
mirror.  "Why?"

He snatched it out of her hand, then hesitated.  What if he 
was wrong?  But he couldn't be wrong.  Kevin had talked to 
him.  In the last five days, no one other than Scully had even 
acknowledged his presence.  He HAD to be right.  And there 
was only one way to find out.  

Mulder brought the mirror slowly toward his face--and smiled 
at his happy reflection.  He was visible again!  

"What are you smiling about?" Scully asked.

"Check it out."  He handed her the mirror, then leaned over so 
his face was reflected back at her.

"Mulder!"  She looked from him to the mirror and back again.  
"I can see you!  I mean I can see you in the mirror!  How?"

"I don't know.  Unless..."  Mulder pointed at the lump of stone 
on his desk.  "It's this rock, Scully.  It has to be."

"We don't know that."

"Sure we do.  I'd just brought it down from security and was 
holding it when I said I wanted to disappear.  I made a wish 
and it must have granted my wish.  I was holding it earlier 
when I said I didn't want to be invisible anymore.  Then it 
glowed and now I'm visible again.  Don't you remember?  
*You* were holding it when you said you didn't want me to 
disappear.  Maybe that's why you could see me even though 
no one else could.  It has to be the catalyst."

"But why?  And how?"

"I don't know.  I'm not sure we'll ever be able to find out 
without putting someone's life in danger."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about what could happen if one of the lab techs was 
examining this thing and wished for--  Never mind.  As much 
as I hate to say it, I think it would be safer to let this one go 
back into the unknown mists from whence it came."

"You're sure?"

"No."  It was the opportunity of a lifetime!  How could he 
contemplate letting it go?  The potential to advance knowledge 
about the paranormal was HUGE!  But at what cost?  Did he 
have the right to take chances with possibly innocent lives?  

Mulder took a deep breath.  "Yes!  Yes, I'm sure.  Simply 
keeping it around is a risk we can't take.  We have no clue 
what other powers it might have and the temptation to find out 
would be almost overwhelming.  I don't know whether it was 
sent by a friend or enemy, but we have to put it out of 
everyone's reach, permanently.  And I know exactly what to do 
with it."

He gingerly picked up the rock between his thumb and 
forefinger, then dropped it into the box in which it had arrived.  
He quickly shut the box, picked it up and walked to the door.  

"Mulder, where are you going?"

"To the Potomac to hire a boat.  Then I'm going out to 
Chesapeake Bay where I'll drop this rock into the deepest hole 
I can find."

She grabbed her purse.  "Wait.  I'll come with you."

"Thanks."  He paused with his hand on the knob.  "Oh, and 
Scully...."

"Yes, Mulder?"

He looked her right in the eye.  "If you have any wishes on 
your mind, keep them to yourself.  Just in case."   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

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