"May I help you?"

Scully's mind snapped back to the present, and she turned around to see the amused face of a middle-aged salesperson. She felt her cheeks heat up as she wondered how long the woman had been speaking to her. Note to self: Not a good idea to shop for a man half an hour after having seen him nearly naked. Actually, she thought, Mulder in speedos was better than naked--it left more to the imagination, and, boy, could she imagine.

Scully returned her gaze to the item which had first caught her eye, before the array of G-strings distracted her. "I'd like to buy that keychain."

The saleswoman followed her gaze to the black medallion in the glass display case; specks of silver gave it the appearance of the night sky. "Oh, my, that shouldn't be there. That's not a keychain, dear. Someone had a hole drilled and a ring attached, but..." Steering Scully away from the glass display case, she brought her to a selection of pocket watches. "What about one of these? They're a little expensive, but any man would love to own one."

Scully's radar flipped on. "Who said I was buying something for a man?"

An indulgent smile flitted across the woman's face. "You were staring at the strings for a good five minutes, honey. And you don't look like you were picturing one on yourself."

This time Scully felt she must be lit up like a stop light. "It is for a man. A co-worker. A friend. The watches are very nice." She moved purposefully back to the keychain. "But I want this." The woman looked about to protest, but Scully cut her off. "It's kind of symbolic. He... gave me something similar on my last birthday." And she wasn't expected to see another birthday. But she did, and it was all Mulder's doing. This was one small way to thank him.

"I do think you should reconsider, my dear. That piece was not meant to be on display."

"Why not?" Scully hoped she hadn't stumbled onto some illegal operation. She wasn't in the mood to make an arrest, and, more importantly, she really wanted that keychain.

The woman looked uncomfortable, but out of embarrassment, not from any criminal activity. "That piece is part of a collection of talismans generally reserved for our more occult-minded patrons. It's not for the lay public, for those uninitiated--"

Scully nearly bust a gut trying not to laugh. "I can assure you, madam, that I am far from 'uninitiated' in the field of the occult."

The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh. Then you're familiar with amulets and talismans."

Scully's thoughts flashed to a museum in Boston and a car in New Orleans. "You might say that."

"Well, this particular one--"

"Could you just wrap it up? I need to get back to work." She wasn't interested in its 'abilities.' Unlike her experiences in the field, this was a hunk of metal with a loop attached to it; a keychain, for god's sake. Accompanied by a salesperson with an active imagination.

"If you can wait a minute, there's some literature that should be included with the item." The woman waited for Scully's nod, then skittered into a back room. She emerged a minute later with several photocopied pages. "This will explain some of the properties of the medallion, along with instructions on how to care for it." She handed the papers to Scully, and the agent crammed them into her purse.

"Thank you," Scully said, then handed over her charge card when the price of the keychain proved to be more than the amount of cash she was carrying. As she placed the charge card back in her purse along with her purchase, Scully's eye caught the G-strings again. A vision of Mulder in his speedo danced before her eyes, immediately joined by Mulder dancing in that G-string.

A flush came over her, and she shook her head toawet rid of the illusion. Talk about double trouble. Two Mulders. That was all she needed.

There was nothing more embarrassing than an encounter with your superior--except perhaps an encounter with your superior and a gaggle of female visitors--while wearing only a bathing suit. A skimpy, clingy, nothing-left-to-the-imagination bathing suit.

While he didn't mind, and rather enjoyed, Scully getting an eyeful, a dozen female eyes ogling the prize behind curtain number one, Monty, was a bit much even for him. Why the hell Skinner brought them down there in the first place was beyond him. And why, of all the months he'd stayed away, did he pick this particular day to indulge himself in a swim? He sighed as he entered his empty office.

His hopes that Scully might have remembered his birthday after all and was waiting to take him to lunch, were dashed when he saw the note on his desk: 'Mulder, Gone to lunch a bit early. Had a couple of errands to run. Be back by 1:30. Scully.'

His spirits perked up. Errands? Birthday errands? Maybe she didn't forget after all.

Well, whatever. He grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and headed out in search of something to eat.

"Oh, hey, Scully." Mulder nearly collided with her as he exited the office. "Be back in a few minutes. Skinner wants to see me."

"Just you?"

"Be grateful." He smiled and was gone.

Shaking her head, Scully took her purchases to her table and laid Mulder's gift atop the gaily-colored wrapping paper she'd selected. She opened the box and lifted the 'cosmic keychain,' as she'd dubbed it, out of the box to take one last close look at it. As she held it in her palm, she couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship, which looked much too intricate for just a trinket.

Well, this 'trinket' had cost her an arm and a leg, but after all the fuss she'd made, she wasn't about to back out of the deal because it was overpriced by a few dollars. Besides, Mulder would love it.

A sudden movement to her left startled her, and she looked up, surprised to see her partner sitting at his desk. "Mulder! Jesus! I didn't hear you come in." Remembering the keychain in her hand, she turned away, slipping it back inside the box. "I guess the cat's out of the bag now," she said, facing him again. "I got--"

His desk was empty.

Totally empty. Not just of Mulder, but of files, rolodex, pens, calendar... whatever had littered Mulder's desk littered it no longer. Eyebrows raising beyond safety limits, she crept over to see if he'd left even a scrap of proof that a second ago an area she had long ago deemed unsafe for human habitation was now brand-spanking clean. Shining, even. She could see her reflection in his desktop.

The phone on her desk ringing nearly gave her heart failure, and she practically leaped over to answer it. Skinner's voice came over the line. "Agent Scully, would you please join us in my office?" Before she could even get out her, "Yes, sir," he disconnected. Sighing, she turned around to leave, and her eyes fell upon Mulder's desk--and Mulder.

He was back, along with all his paraphernalia. "Sorry," he said, smiling sheepishly. "Didn't mean to do that." And then he faded away. Blinked out. Ceased to exist in that space and time.

Scully stared at the non-Mulder, then shook her head and blinked her eyes. Having 'just one' frozen daiquiri at lunch was a definite 'do not' for the future.

Mulder felt like he was under a microscope. Being called to Skinner's office without Scully was usually not a good sign, but anything he'd conjured up paled in comparison to the actual reason.

"Sir, I really think you should go with another team. Scully will never--"

"Let's just let her decide that, Agent Mulder, shall we?"

Sure, Mulder thought bitterly. Scully was offered a choice. He was 'urged strongly' to cooperate. Wasn't that some sort of rights violation? Of course, he could refuse, but Skinner had made it abundantly clear that he would make Mulder's life a living hell if he didn't go along with this... assignment. The six women were absolutely without a clue that any undue pressure had been exerted; or, if they were, they were blithely ignoring it so long as they got what they wanted. And what they wanted was him.

A knock on the door sounded, and his partner came in, just the slightest hitch in her step betraying her surprise. Without further hesitation, she marched past Skinner and the women, taking the empty seat beside Mulder. She gazed at him with a, "What's up?" look on her face.

"Agent Scully, I have a rather unusual request to make of you," Skinner began.

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Skinner," one of the woman spoke up. "We won't be needing Mr. Mulder or Ms. Scully after all."

Skinner stared at the woman a full five seconds before nodding his head slowly. "I see." Looking back to Mulder and Scully, his eyes were full of relief and apology. "That'll be all, Agents."

Mulder saw the humiliation on his partner's face and nudged her elbow gently. "Come on, Scully."

Spurred into action, she stood and walked out, head held high. Once the door clicked shut behind them, she turned to him. "What the hell was that all about? Obviously, they saw something they didn't like." She eyed him suspiciously. "They liked you, though. What the hell did they want us for?"

He started away, speaking as he walked. "You don't want to know."

"I was rejected, Mulder. I want to know for what."

He shook his head. "You don't, Scully."

"Mulder, dammit! Tell me!"

Sighing, he stopped and faced her. "The Bureau's embarking on a recruiting slash image campaign. Those woman are from P.R. They decided to go with 'real' agents.'" He gave her his best, 'you have my undying gratitude for rescuing me' look. "They're looking for models."

She stared at him. "Models."

He nodded. "Models."

"Too short?"

He resumed walking. "By about six inches, I'd guess."

"Why the hell did they even want to see me? Did you tell them? Didn't Skinner?"

He shrugged. "They kind of had their hearts set on me. I guess they were hoping you'd undergo a growth spurt before you arrived."

This time she stopped. "Skinner didn't recommend you."

Mulder rolled his eyes. "No. He tried his best to dissuade them, but they insisted."

"Why you? Had they seen you previously?"

He felt his face growing hot. "Had they ever," he muttered.

Her mouth opened, and then he saw realization strike. She let out a soft whistle.

"No wonder."

Mulder unlocked the door to their office and stepped through. A second later, Scully was massaging her foot where he'd stomped on it when he stumbled back out of the room.

"Ow! Jesus, Mulder, what are you doing?"

When he didn't respond, she looked at him. Wow, she thought. As far as exaggerations went, 'eyes as wide as saucers' wasn't too far off the mark in this case.

"You all right, Mulder?" She laid a hand on his arm.

As if in a daze, he turned to her. "There's... I saw..." His gaze returned to the closed door. Suddenly, he strode up and yanked it open, then peered in. Even from where she stood a few feet from him, she could feel his sigh of relief. "I must be coming down with something." He walked inside, stopping at his desk. She followed, gazing at him in concern. "Scully, feel my head and please tell me I have a fever."

Dutifully, she placed the back of her hand against his forehead. "You're not hot. Do you feel sick?"

His head shook slowly. "But I'm seeing things. Just a minute ago, I saw... I thought I saw..."

Her eyes closed. Dear Lord, don't let him say it.

"I saw myself ."

She opened her eyes and let out a breath. "What were you doing?"

His head swivelled around and he stared at her. "What?" His brows creased in puzzlement. "Did you hear what I said?"

She nodded. "I heard you. What were you doing?"

"Um..." He still looked shell-shocked. "I was... sitting at my desk. I think."

"Hm."

"Hm?" His eyes narrowed. "You don't seem particularly surprised by this. Did you see yourself, too?"

"Um.... not quite."

Her partner looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel. "Well, then, what quite?"

"I, um... I had a drink at lunch. I couldn't have seen..." She sighed. There was no way she could have seen what she thought she saw.

She watched the enlightenment come over his face. "You saw me, too."

"I was drunk."

"You had one drink, Scully. You couldn't have been drunk."

"I did not see you sitting at your desk. I did not see you and the contents of your desk disappear and then reappear. I was drunk. I had to be. There's no other explanation for it."

"You saw all that? When?" He looked positively beside himself with delight.

She froze, two lesser-clad beside-himself Mulders coming to mind. This couldn't have anything to do with...

Ridiculous.

Walking over to her table, she scooped up the unwrapped package and presented it to him. "Happy Birthday, Mulder."

For a second his face was a total blank as he stared at the box in her hands. Then he broke out into a smile and took her offering. "What is it?" he asked, as he lifted the lid.

"Open it and find out for yourself." His grin was infectious, and she joined him.

He pulled out the tissue paper. "This doesn't get you off the hook, you know. I still want to know what you saw earlier." He jabbed a tissue-paper-filled hand at her.

"Take out your present, Mulder."

His face softened as he pulled it out by the steel ring.

"Do you like it?"

His eyes moved slowly to meet hers. "It's a keychain."

She nodded. "I knew that."

He began to grow excited. "No, Scully. I mean it was made into a keychain, but it's not supposed to be a keychain."

Was there no getting away from it? She fumbled around in her purse and came up with the folded papers. "Here. I suppose you'll want these, then."

He accepted the photocopies without a word, carefully unfolding them. After reading for a minute, he met her gaze again. "How'd you get this?"

She shrugged. "They came with the keychain."

"No, the medallion. Do you know what this is?"

"A keychain. It's a keychain, Mulder. It doesn't contain any mystical powers, and it certainly wouldn't let you conjure up another you!"

"Not me." He shook his head. "I didn't do it, Scully."

Her head came up quickly, and her mouth dropped open. "Are you saying that I did? Even if I could, why on earth would I?"

He flinched, and she instantly regretted her choice of words.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded, Mulder." She laid a hand on his arm, relieved when he allowed it. "I don't think the world is ready for two Fox Mulder's," she said, smiling at him. "Skinner's heart couldn't take it."

Mulder laughed then, and she felt vindicated. "So, how did it come to be that there are apparently two of me, albeit one of us a little more shy than the other?"

Scully blew out a breath. This could not be attributted to the medallion or keychain or whatever the hell it was. "Maybe we're both hallucinating. Maybe there was something in the coffee, or maybe that thing is coated with some sort of hallucinogen. We both touched it at some point." She looked up at him hopefully.

"Yeah, except that I hadn't touched it yet when I saw my 'hallucination.'" He scowled at her. "And think about it, Scully. Do I look like the type of person to fantasize about himself? Especially when there are so many more desirable choices?" When he looked pointedly at her, she felt her temperature rise at least ten degrees.

"But you did," she said in a small, squeaky voice. It had to be a product of his mind, because if it wasn't, that meant it was a product of hers, and she simply refused to admit to that indiscretion. Especially here, now, and to him.

"And the part about touching the medallion?"

She shook her head. "There's always the coffee," she said, lamely.

"Perhaps," he said, his tone noncommittal. "When did you have your first 'hallucination?'" His emphasis on the word, 'hallucination,' told her that he did not see them as such.

"After lunch. I was wrapping your present, when I saw something at your desk. It was you. Or what I thought was you." She pursed her lips; she truly did not want to relate this tale. "I turned around for a second, and when I turned back, you and everything on top of your desk, were gone. Then Skinner called me up to his office, and when I turned to go, there you were, along with your stuff." She met his eyes. "You apologized. Said you didn't mean to do that."

His eyes widened. "It spoke? You actually carried on a conversation with a doppleganger?"

"It spoke, yes. But it wasn't much of a conversation, seeing as it disappeared before I could get a word out."

For a moment, he was speechless. "Disappeared? And you're admitting that you witnessed this?"

"I witnessed nothing, Mulder. I was under the influence of alcohol. I was afraid you'd come back and catch me wrapping your present. It was an alcohol-induced figment of my imagination."

"And what about me?" he asked quietly.

What about him? She had no good explanation why he should share her vision. "I don't know."

"Will you at least consider the possibility that its existence came about because of some thought of yours in conjunction with your possession of the medallion?"

As much as she was loathe to admit it, that scenario was looking more and more likely. "Maybe."

He looked surprised, and then pleased. "Did you read any of this?" He held up the photocopies from the store.

"No." Even if she'd had the opportunity, she wouldn't have given them a second glance. Now, however... "What do they say?"

"Well, beneath all the mumbo-jumbo mystical crap, what it basically says is, "Make a wish."

End of 1/2