The Blue-Files III by Kate Harrison

*please archive*

MSR... of sorts... this is the third in a series of Blue Heelers/XF crossovers... the first two can be found at my x-files page; Dimension X, at http://www.fortunecity.com/roswell/chupacabras/60/ spoilers for small potatoes... but as if any proper x-phile hasn't seen that at *least* three times...

* * * * * * * * *

Somewhere in the United States...

Eddie Van BlundHt stared at the inside of his cell with a sigh. "Oh deary me, this is lonesome" he said unhappily. He wished that he could be outside in the big, wide world, with hundreds of women to woo in his own special way. A single tear slipped down his cheek. "If only I could escape this dreadful place" he sobbed.

Then his face brightened. "Of course!" he said, snapping his fingers and jumping up excitedly. "That's it!"

He'd completely forgotten about his other special skill - his Alex-Mack-like ability to transform himself into a liquid and slip through tiny places.

He screwed up his face as he concentrated intently on the transformation, melting down into a silver puddle on the floor, and then slipping out through the bars.

...And coming face-to-feet with the warden.

"Excuse me" he muttered, continuing sliding along, carefully navigating his way out of the prison.

The prison guard hadn't even noticed the Eddie-puddle, but had started freaking out when he'd heard the squeaky voice. "Noooooooooo!" he screamed, clutching his head. The voices were back! He ran screaming into the broom closet, locking himself in. He would be safe in there. Safe from the voices... the voices told him.

Eddie, meanwhile, had just exited the prison through the front gate, and had changed himself back to normal, looking around him happily at the dirty streets and polluted sky. "It's all so beautiful" he murmured, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes.

He skipped down the street as he contemplated his next step. Once the muscle-relaxant wore off, he was free to be who he wanted, and do whatever he pleased. "Yipppeeeeee!" he cried. "I'm free! Free, I tell you! Free to dance in the winds! Free to dance in the meadows! Freeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

The he stopped singing and dancing and gulped.

Not five metres away were standing a pair of FBI agents. A pair of strangely familiar FBI agents.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh crap" he moaned.

He quickly flattened himself against the wall. "Oh, that darn muscle relaxant!" he muttered.

The FBI agents seemed to just be standing there.

he begged silently.

The FBI agents continued to stand there.

He tried telepathy.

It failed.

He tried again.

It worked.

The agents started coming towards him.

Eddie flattened himself even more against the wall, but it was too late. Mulder and Scully had already seen him, and looked like they wanted blood.

"Uh... hi guys" he said timidly.

Agent Scully, he noticed, was blushing madly, and Agent Mulder looked like an angry bull about to charge.

"Eddie..." Mulder said slowly.

"Van BlundHt" Scully said stiffly.

Eddie gulped. "Uh..."

He ran.

Mulder rolled his eyes before taking off after Eddie. Scully sighed, sitting down cross-legged on the footpath and waiting for Mulder to return.

Eddie, meanwhile, was running as fast as his little legs would carry him, weaving in and out of the crowds, with Mulder in hot pursuit.

Then Mulder stopped suddenly as Eddie vanished from view.

"Oh, diddums" he said, placing his hands on his waist with a pout.

He looked around at the crowds. Eddie could be any of them; one of the businessmen, a contruction worker, the guy dressed up as Bananaman... *anyone*!

He shook himself frustratedly and slowly made his way to Scully, who was writing her name in the dirt in the gutters.

"I lost him" he said dolefully.

"Uh-huh." Scully dotted her i and crossed her t.

"What are we going to do?"

"Dunno." She underlined her name and drew stars around it.

"I guess we'll have to wait 'til, you know, we get more babies with tails."

"That'll be a long wait. At least 9 months."

"Yeah, I guess."

"We'll just have to find ways to keep ourselves amused" Scully said innocently, as she wrote 'Fox William Mulder' under her name and drew a heart around them both.

* * * * * * * * *

"It's a lovely day today..." Maggie sang. "And whatever you have to do, it would be lovely to be doing it with yoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, dum di dum dum."

She pulled a yellow rose from the garden, dirt still dangling from the roots, and held it against her heart as she danced along the weed-ridden front path.

"And if you've got something that must be done, and it can only be done by one, I guess there's nothing more to saaaaaaaaaay, except it's a lovely day for singing, it's a luuuuuuuuu-vleeeeeeeee daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayy." She finished off with a dramatic curtsey.

"G'day beaut sheila." Eddie knew that all Australians spoke like that. He was just wondering why he couldn't see any kangaroos or koalas around. Maybe they were all down at the billabong getting a drink.

Maggie turned with a gasp to see P.J. standing at the gate, smiling at her.

"P.J.! What are you doing here?"

P.J. held up a bottle of white wine. "I thought we could, um, you know.. celebrate."

Maggie threw her arm around him. "Celebrate what?"

"Uh..." Eddie/P.J. looked lost. Then he was struck on the forehead by sudden inspiration. "Last night?"

Maggie smiled. "That *was* pretty good, wasn't it?"

P.J. nodded enthusiastically. Eddie was very confused.

"Ya know, Patrick Joseph, *you* are the greatest darts player I know" Maggie said happily.

"Yeah... darts... of course" he smiled weakly.

Maggie took his hand and led him up the garden path. "C'mon, let's go inside."

Eddie grinned.

* * * * * * * * *

one year later...

Maggie and PJ looked proudly down at their baby daughter. "Aren't you a pretty-itty-witty beywtifuw babbie? Yes you are, yes you are" Maggie cooed.

Little Patricia Josephine Margaret Hasham-Doyle smiled up at Mummy and Daddy.

Then she frowned. Mummy and Daddy wanted her tail cut off. Her lovely, wonderful, swishy tail! And they hadn't even consulted *her* about it!

She spat.

Maggie wiped the spit out of her eye. "Now, dat wasn't vewy nice of wittle Patty, was it? No it wasn't, no it wasn't!"

Little Patty smiled.

* * * * * * * * *

"Alienbusters... I mean, Special Agent Fox Mulder, how can I help you?" Mulder leaned back in his swivel chair. It had taken ten long years to master the skill of swivelling without losing his balance and making a fool of himself. Ten *very* long years.

"It's me" Scully said briskly from her dark corner on the other side of the room. "Can you get here Mulder? There's something important I want to tell you."

"Where are you?" Mulder asked, looking at his watch.

"I'm over here." Scully waved a white flag above her head to attract his attention.

"Um, I'm in a bit of a hurry, but I'll see what I can do. I'll be there in about ten minutes, okay?"

Scully dropped the white flag with a sigh. "Sure, fine, whatever, Mulder."

"Yep... you want me to pick you up something to eat along the way?"

"Yeah, my coffee cup's on my desk."

"Okay, I'll see you soon, then."

Scully sighed again. "Yeah Mulder."

* * * * * * * * *

Mulder struck an unexpected detour on his way to Scully's corner. *Someone* had carelessly left a basketball rolling around the office and Mulder was on it like a fly to a carcass, bouncing it until the shelves started shaking and his favourite snowglobe shattered on the floor in a million pieces. He gasped in horror, then suddenly he started swaying and the world started to close in on him, and he fell to the floor in a dead faint.

* * * * * * * * *

Scully pulled Mulder up into her arms, clutching him tightly against her. "Oh Mulder, Mulder!" she cried.

Mulder opened his eyes slowly, looking up into Scully's eyes. "Scully.. my snowglobe... it's - it's..."

Scully shook her head solemnly, tears running down her cheeks. "I'm sorry Mulder, it.. it didn't make it."

"Noooooooooooooooooooooooo" Mulder threw back his head and howled. Then he stopped when one of Scully's tears hit him in the eye. "Hey Scully, watch it! You're crying on me!"

Scully whisked out a pink hanky, drying her eyes. "I'm sorry Mulder, but I.. I thought I'd lost you forever!"

Mulder gasped. "You mean that... you care about me?"

Scully nodded, wiping her tears away with a sob. "Oh Mulder, I've loved you longer than you can imagine. You're all I ever think about. You're the apple of my eye, the sunshine in my day... you are the wind beneath my wings!"

They embraced passionately.

"Oh Scully!"

"Oh Mulder!"

They embraced passionately again.

"But Scully, how do we know that it's true love? What if we're merely succumbing to the desires we both have - the need for human companionship and sex twenty-four hours a day?"

"Oh Mulder... isn't that true love?"

Mulder stood up, looking courageously at the back of the office door.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Maybe we'll find out. Maybe we won't. Maybe Pizza Hut is owned by Aliens Incorporated. Maybe not. There are a few things we can be sure of in this world. And there are so many things that we can't. I could get run over by a bus tomorrow. Or a train. Or a Ford Taurus. Or a granny on a Harley Davidson -"

Scully interrupted him, looking adoringly up at him. "Oh Mulder, you truly have the poetic abilities of Shakespeare!"

Mulder blushed. "Oh Scully, you are too kind! But..." He cast his glance downward. "Scully, I have a confesion to make" he whispered.

"What is it, my belovedest of beloveds?"

"I - I... Samantha wasn't really abducted by aliens. We accidently left her up at our holiday house one year, and Mom and Dad didn't realise until we got home. And then they argued over who'd go back up there and get her, and because neither of them would and I didn't really like her anyway, we just left here there. And I never saw her again..."

Scully stood up. Steam started coming out of her ears. "All these years you've been lying to me! Lying!"

Mulder dropped to his knees. "I didn't want to, I swear! Please forgive me, Scully. Please?"

Scully turned away. "You have lied to me" she said quietly, her voice as hard as Minties that have been kept in the freezer for six months. "I suppose there aren't really aliens at all then? You just made them up too?"

Mulder was aghast. "Scully, how can you say such a thing? You know that aliens exist just as well as I do. You've seen living proof!"

"What, those guys with the green blood? Mulder, that is so... so *Hollywood*!" she spat contemptuously.

Mulder smiled, shaking his head slowly. "Not them Scully. They're just recycled Canadian actors. I'm talking about *Skinner*."

Scully's eyebrows rose and got lost in her hair. "Skinner is an alien?"

Mulder sighed. "Jeez, I thought you knew. Everybody else does."

"Everyone else being...?"

Mulder sighed again. "Well, me, and... me..." He caught Scully's accusing look. "Okay, okay! I'm the only one who knew."

Scully looked satisfied.

"But" Mulder added, "It's pretty obvious. How else would a guy with so little hair end up in such a high position of authority?"

* * * * * * * * *

location: Mt Thomas Police Station Mt Thomas, Victoria The Great South Land time: 4:05am, according to Tom's watch, which has had a dead battery for six months. He just wears it to look like he actually knows how to tell the time with such a new-fangled device. real time: How the hell should I know?

"Hey, Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"You remember those FBI agents, Mully and Sculder?"

"Um... wasn't that Mulder and Scully?" Adam asked.

Dash shook her head irritably. "I *think* that I would remember their names, Bozo!"

"Um.. my name's Adam."

Dash sighed heavily. "I am *not* going to degrade myself by talking to someone as brainless as you."

She stomped off to find Nick, who was busy writing the third installment of his top-selling series, currently entitled "The woes of a fireman's niece."

"Hi Nick."

Nick was typing frienzedly. "Not now."

"So, how are things going? You solved the problem of the missing skydiving instructor yet? Did she run away with the pirate like I suggested and get married on a desert island, and then-"

Nick ran his hands through his hair in frustration, muttering to himself. "But if Yvette is in love with Jean-Claud, then why is she eloping with Michel? Wait a moment - maybe she secretly loves Joshua and wants to make him jealous by eloping with Michel, and then Joshua's wife will leave him because he'll spend his days hopelessly pining for Yvette... and then Joshua's wife will have an affair with John-Claud's half brother, so in revenge, John-Claud will stab Joshua's sister's husband's brother.. and then Yvette will realize that it's Chug-Chug she really loves, and she'll leave Michel for him, but then they'll duel over her... I've got it!!!" he shouted triumphantly, jumping up.

"You do? Wow!" Dash squealed excitedly, hugging Nick.

It was at that exact moment that Zoe arrived, taking in the situation as calmly as could be expected.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!!!" she demanded.

Dash let go of Nick and took a step back, quivering with fear as Zoe went on, her eyes flashing.

"I knew you were cheating on me! I knew that the glamour would finally get to you, the life of luxury and gala functions and notoriety. I knew it! You men are all just the same! What do you have to say for yourself, huh?"

Nick was grinning insanely. "That's it! By jove, you've got it!"

"What?!!" Zoe thundered.

Dash ran out of the room, sobbing hysterically.

Nick seated himself at hims computer, fingers poised to type. "Say all that again. I didn't catch it the first time."

"You - you - you're putting what I just said in your book???"

Nick looked confused. "What's wrong with that?"

"What's *wrong* with that???"

Nick shrugged. "You didn't complain about it in any of the other books."

"You've done this in your other books?!" Zoe spluttered. She swept up the copy of Nick's second book "The Love Octogon" and opened it near the end, and read it aloud.

"There was silence in the normally-silent shed. Azalea Candacia Petunia Wattlebrush sat eating a Vegemite sandwich, humming the Australian anthem as she did so. All of a sudden there was a bright light outside. She gasped. The shed door opened and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly because she was scared.

"Don't be afraid" a familiar voice belonging to someone she knew said. "I bring you peace."

She opened her eyes, and looked into the eyes of her one and only love apart from all five of her ex-husbands and that football player named Steve. "Oh, Ettiene!"

The tall prince pulled her close to him. "You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say those words" he breathed. "Say them again, my little flower."

"Oh, Ettiene!" she repeated, gazing adoringly into his dark, smouldering eyes. He had such beautiful eyes, the colour of the ash that had blown into her neighbour's backyard during the January '94 bushfires.

"Say that again, my sweet Azalea" he begged.

"Oh, Ettiene!"

"Just once more?"

"Oh, Ettiene!"

"And one for good luck?"

"Oh, Ett - No! What is the deal with this? And what's that you're writing down? Let me see that!" She reached out, trying to grab the paper fom his hands, but he held it out of her reach.

"No, my sweet. If your eyes should ever see what I have written upon this off-white coloured surface, I assure you that you would not be pleased."

"Ettiene, you're nuts."

"Ah, my sweet, insanity is just one of the novelties left in this world for me to savour."

"Savour this!" She slashed at him, her long nails slicing the skin.

Ettiene moaned in agony, clutching his arm as the blood spurted out. He collapsed down into a chair, pulling a bandage out of the first-aid kit he kept in his pocket, and, after first dabbing on some antiseptic just in case Azalea's fingernails had been less than sparkling clean, he wrapped the bandage around his arm, pinning it neatly and pulling his sleeve back down over it. Then he stood up. "Now.. where were we?"

"Huh?" Azalea asked absently, looking critically at her fingernails. There really hadn't been need for all that antiseptic... "Oh... uh... oh yeah, I'm mad at you."

Ettiene gave her the thumbs up, then cleared his throat and began.

"My sweet, do not be mad at me. I have come to ask you to come back with me to my home planet, to be queen to my king as soon as I have suitably disposed of my father in a wicked plot which not even the best of the good guys and superheroes can foil." He cackled maniacally.

Azalea put her head to the side, considering. Then she shrugged. "Okay."

Hand in hand they walked out the shed door and across the field to the UFO, which flashed the words "Vacancy. Colour TV. Heated pool. Restaurant. 3 and a little bit out of five stars." accidently stepping in a cow pat on their way.

"Oh, this is so wonderful" Azalea said in awe as she entered the spacecraft.

"Yes" Ettiene said, puffing his chest out proudly.

"Oh, Ettiene, you truly are the handsomest alien I know" she whispered ecstatically.

"Yes, I know" Ettiene said happily.

And they lived happily ever after.

THE END."

Zoe closed the book gently, putting it down on the table slowly.

"That" she said clearly "is pure crap."

Nick looked hurt. "But Zoe, my darling, you said when you first read it that you loved it."

Zoe shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of a way of telling Nick that that was the first she'd ever read of anything he'd written without having to actually tell him that that was the first she'd ever read of anything he'd actually written.

She couldn't think of one, so she just patted Nick on his injured arm and left.

Nick looked puzzled, but them he shrugged and turned back to his computer, ready to type up the solution to the love tangle. Then he frowned. "Now, if Yvette loves Michel..."

* * * * * * * * *

Scully rubbed her chin thoughtfully, smearing whipped cream all over it. "Mulder, would you like to hear a fascinating but totally irrelevant to what we're currently doing fact which the writer of this fanfic is making me bring to light for a reason known only to her?"

Mulder put down his electronic basketball game and blew Scully a kiss. "Certainly."

Scully caught the kiss and blew Mulder one in return. "Well, apparently Eddie Van Blundht has an identical, long-lost twin brother, named Eddie."

"Eddie and Eddie. Hm, I bet their mother had trouble telling them apart" he joked.

Scully shot him a withering glance, then picked up an envelope from Mulder's desk. "And, on a totally different note, here's a letter from Dash McKinley from that whacko cop station in that little country with the funny accents and the kangaroos and koalas, contriving to move this story along."

"What's wrong with the speed this story's going at?" Mulder asked, miffed.

"Well, even the writer's getting bored with it. So hurry up and open the letter so we can get to the next scene."

Mulder ripped the envelope open and extracted a photo and piece of paper. "Aw, look, it's a little baby!"

"Mulder, that baby has a tail" Scully said pointedly.

"Aw, look! It's got a ta- what?!"

Scully skimmed over the letter. "Mulder, you know those two that kept sneaking off into their boss' office when we were in Australia?"

"Yeah, Maggie and Pee-Jay."

"Well, this" she said solemnly "is their baby. Eddie Van Blundht has struck again!"

- writer advances plot rapidly -

two days later...

Scully took another sip of her Fosters, then almost choked on it as she watched Mulder's dart miss the board by - well, we'll be kind and just say a long, long way.

"I don't get it" Mulder whinged to PJ, his "instructor". "I throw really hard and I still miss!"

"You'll get it soon, I betcha" PJ said, whacking him on the back in a show of male camaraderie. "C'mon, howsabout another Fosters?"

They sat back down at the bar with Scully just as Maggie came in, pushing a pram.

"Oh, look! Here's my little Patty Jospehine!" PJ cooed.

Mulder and Scully looked at the tailed baby, then at each other with raised eyebrows, then back at the baby.

Then Mulder gasped.

Maggie patted him on the back. "We know that the tail is a bit of a surprise - nobody was more surprised than us when little Patty was born, but it's not really that abnormal..."

Mulder shook his head, his mouth gaping wide open. "It - it's - there -"

He pointed.

"Mulder, don't you think you've humiliated yourself enough for one evening?" Scully asked crossly as she following his gaze to the dart boards.

"Van Blundht!" Mulder whispered. "He- he's over there, playing darts!"

"Mulder, I know that you're upset about you're incomplete incapability in the field of dart-throwing, but this sort of halluginogenic psychosis is completely out of the question."

"It's Van Blundht, I'm sure of it!" Mulder hissed.

Scully sighed. "Mulder..."

Then the man playing darts turned and looked at them, his mouth dropping open as a flash of recognition passed across his face.

"I'll never doubt your word again" she muttered to Mulder.

But Mulder had already gone.

So had Van Blundht.

Mulder returned five minutes later, out of breath, his windblown hair emphasizing his dorky haircut. "I lost him... again."

Scully patted him on the back sympathetically. Mulder wondered what everybody's obsession with patting him on the back was.

"We'll see him again soon. This is a small town. He can't hide for long."

Mulder nodded sadly and ordered another Fosters.

* * * * * * * * *

"Hey, Chris, throw another couple of snags on the barbie!" PJ called out the pub door.

"She's a great gal, she is" PJ told Mulder and Scully. "Got this touch with snags, you know. Never burns 'em."

"Uh.. excuse us for asking" Scully said politely "but what is a 'snag'?"

"Blimey, you blokes from the States sure know nothing 'bout Aussie lingo!"

Mulder and Scully exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"A snag" Maggie piped up "is a sausage."

"Hey, anyone up for a game of darts while we wait for the snags to cook?" PJ asked hopefully.

Mulder looked at the dartsboard for a moment and then shook his head, remembering his embarassment from the previous night. "I'll pass."

"Ditto" Scully said firmly. She associated the game with a childhood memory she'd rather forget. Something to do, perhaps, with taking the term "bulls eye" too literally...

"Mags?" PJ turned to wife.

"Sure. Here, hold her" she handed the baby to Scully, who prompty passed it to Mulder, who looked distastefully at Little Patty Josephine before putting her back into the pram.

"Stay" he instructed the baby, then he turned back to Scully and instantly forgot about the baby.

"Y'know, Scully, we've been working together for what - six years now? And I was thinking-"

"Mulder, shut up!" Scully hissed.

Mulder looked irked. "Scully, what I'm trying to say is-"

"Mulder, shut UP!"

"Well, fine, be like that" he huffed.

"Mulder, that's Van Blundht!!!" Scully whispered desperately.

"Now who's hallucinating" Mulder said with a smirk. "That's Pee-Jay, Scully."

"No, that's Van Blundht *as* PJ!"

"How can you tell?"

"Look at the way he's throwing that dart! That's exactly how Van Blundht was throwing them last night!"

Mulder blinked, rubbed his eyes and looked again. "Scully, I do believe you're right!"

"Let's get him. We'll just go up to him, pretend we don't know anything, and then you grab him and handcuff him, okay?"

Mulder nodded.

They both stood.

"Oh, and Mulder?" Scully whispered, grabbing his arm. "Act casual."

Mulder nodded and sauntered 'casually' over to 'PJ' and Maggie. Scully downed the last of her fifth Fosters and followed him.

- at this point the writer must interrupt and apologise for the lack of stupidity at this point of the fanfic. I'm doing my best, guys! Sorry! -

"Hey, you've come to join us?" 'PJ' asked hopefully as Maggie scored a bullseye and then chalked up her score. He looked forlornly at his single-figure score beside hers of 998. "I don't know how she does it" he muttered to himself in admiration.

Scully held out a hand for the darts and PJ handed them to her, patting her on the shoulder. Mulder removed PJ's hand from Scully's shoulder, much to Scully's relief/disappointment (depending on how much you think has happened between Mulder and Scully) and snapped handcuffs on him.

"Eddie Van Blundht, you are under arrest-" he started.

Then he froze when PJ entered, glancing furtively around.

The second PJ saw Mulder and Scully. "Ohhhhhhhhhh crap" he moaned.

He turned and tried to make a dash for it, but slipped on a banana peel conveniently in the doorway and landed flat on his back.

Scully yanked him to his feet and twisted his hands behind his back, handcuffing him.

Mulder and Scully looked at PJ, and then Mulder and Scully looked at PJ. Maggie looked very confused.

"Which one of you is Van Blundht?" Mulder demanded.

"Who?" asked the first PJ.

"I didn't do it!" said the second PJ.

Mulder and Scully scratched their heads thoughtfully. Then they scratched their chins thoughtfully. Then Mulder and Scully went to the bar and ordered another Fosters each.

Half an hour and several Fosters later, they had decided that the first PJ was actually Eddie on the grounds that he was just pretending not to know about himself at all, and the second one was the real PJ because he was such an honest bloke. And his hair was much neater.

They let the second PJ go and Mulder finished reading the first PJ his rights, then Mulder and Scully escorted the first PJ out. Well, to be truthful - as Mulder and Scully obviously believe that character trait to be almost as important as neat hair - they only got three steps.

Because then PJ Hasham walked in the door.

The first PJ said "Ohhhhhhhhhh crap." The second PJ, who was sitting at the bar having a nice refreshing Fosters, said "Ohhhhhhhhhhh crap... mm, nice cold beer."

The third PJ accidently slipped on that poor, mistreated, oft-trodden-on banana peel and said "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh crap."

Mulder and Scully sighed heavily.

* * * * * * * * *

Three hours and six Fosters later Mulder and Scully had decided that there was only one way they would be able to figure out who was the real PJ Hasham and whe were the Van Blundht twins.

The three PJs were lined up, the one with the neatest hair at the front, the one with the messiest hair at the back.

"Who are you?" Mulder asked the second PJ, whose hair was neatly combed.

"I'm PJ Hasham. Patrick-Joseph Hasham."

Mulder pulled Scully aside and whispered "This *has* to be the real PJ. Only the real PJ would know what PJ stood for."

Scully disagreed. "Mulder, you know what PJ stands for, but you're not the real PJ, are you?"

Mulder thought about this for a moment. "I don't think so."

Scully rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Mulder, I can assure you that you are *not* PJ Hasham."

Mulder looked relieved.

He turned back to the PJs and addressed the third one, whose hair was neater than the first's but not quite as neat as the second's.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The third PJ sighed sadly. "I'm PJ Hasham. I've been stuck in Maggie's linen closet for two years."

"I think there's something suspicious about him, Scully" Mulder whispered to his partner. "He says he's been stuck in a closet for two years, but that style of watch he's wearing only came out last year."

Scully agreed that this was very suspicious.

Mulder turned back and asked the first PJ "Who are you?"

"Would 'ya believe me if I told you I was PJ Hasham?" he asked hopefully.

"He has to be the real PJ" Mulder whispered to Scully.

"Why?" Scully asked, not because she really wanted to know, but because when Chris Carter created The X-Files he created her character as someone who always asked questions and generally drove everybody around the bend with them.

"Because one of them has to be and I've had too much beer to think straight enough to figure out who it is."

"Why don't we sleep on it?" Scully suggested with a yawn, wondering why the room was starting to go al fuzzy.

"We can't sleep 'til we've sorted this out Scully. We have to ferret out the truth. The truth is out there!!!"

Scully yawned again.

"How 'bout you do eeny meeny miny mo?" the first PJ suggested.

"Mags knows that I'm