Tobias McFee was sitting at his desk in the library, entering into his computer a list of the new books he had received that morning. The phone rang and he reached for it automatically. "Tobias McFee."

"Tobias, hi."

"Hi, Ant..." He started to say before being cut off by his friend.

"No! Please. Don't say my name," said Antoine Delacroix.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Yes... No... Um, not yet. Look, I can't talk long." The Frenchman's voice was low, as if he were whispering, but he was talking fast. "I -- I'm sending you something vital that you need to keep safe for me."

"No problem. What is it?" asked Tobias.

"I can't tell you on the phone. But everything will be in the box. Please... don't talk about this to anyone. It's really important."

"Of course. You can count on me."

"Thank you, Tobias. I knew I could trust you. Um... in case anything happens to me, I -- I just wanted you to know that you've been the best friend I've ever had." And Antoine hung up.

Puzzled, McFee stared at the receiver in his hand and felt his eyes begin to fill with tears. He was overcome by a sudden sense of dread -- an irrational fear that he would never again hear his best friend's voice. He had known Antoine for more than seventy years. Although Antoine's distant ancestors came originally from South America, his grandparents and parents had grown up in France. The family had immigrated to the USA when he was two. Antoine and Tobias had both been born in 1920, had gone to the same schools, and had always been friends. Tobias had married Antoine's sister and Antoine had married Tobias's sister. They were family as well as best friends. Now Tobias wondered if he would ever see him again.

Taking a deep breath, he hung up the phone and let the tears run freely down his cheeks. "Why?" he asked aloud. He thought about his wife, his daughter, his young friend who had been killed by Maya Carasco. "Denise, Paula, Judith. Is Antoine next? What have I done to deserve so much loss in my life?"

The phone rang again startling him. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat, then picked it up. "Tobias McFee."

"Hi, Tobias. It's Blair."

A sweet smile appeared on the old man's face when he heard the voice of the young man. "Hello, Blair. How are you doing? And how is that detective of yours?"

"Uh, Jim and I are both fine, thank you. How are you doing?"

Tobias had had an accident a few weeks before Judith was killed. He'd been hit by a car and his hip had been broken. Since then he remained in a wheelchair and was recovering very slowly.

"It still hurts but I'm starting to walk again. Oh, just a few steps a day, you know. I still need the wheelchair, but it's getting much better."

"I'm glad to hear that. Um, Tobias, I'm calling because we'd like to have dinner with you. We've talked about it a lot but never set up a date, so..."

"I'd be delighted to have you two to dinner."

"Oh, no, you don't have to do that. We thought we could pick you up one day and have a nice evening at the loft," Blair offered.

"That's a wonderful idea, but let me return the favor soon. I have a cottage in the outskirts of Vancouver, just a few hours away from Cascade. What do you think about a little fishing weekend?"

"That's great. Thank you, Tobias. I'll talk to Jim about it. So when do you want me to pick you up?" asked Blair.

"How about Friday?" Tobias asked. "I hope that won't disturb your plans?"

"No, don't worry. We don't have any plans for Friday."

"All right then. I'll see you then, my boy."

"Seven o'clock?" asked Blair.

"Seven o'clock."

"G'bye, Tobias."

"Goodbye, and please say hello to James."

"Will do," said Blair, a smile in his voice.

Tobias leaned back in his chair, his back aching from too many hours spent sitting. He was happy at the prospect of dinner with Jim and Blair but couldn't release the tension he'd been feeling since he'd spoken with Antoine. It seemed as if the whole world were resting on his shoulders -- but he decided to be strong. No matter what might happen he was going to be there for his best friend. But he feared that something bad was coming.

Jim turned off the shower. Drying himself quickly then wrapping a towel loosely around his waist, he headed toward the living room. Blair was sitting on the couch wearing a pair of jeans and a snug white tee-shirt. Only the glasses perched on the tip of his nose and his wild hair belied the inadvertent James Dean imitation. Jim was a sucker for that sexy Fifties look.

Blair's head lifted at the approach of his lover, and their eyes met. Jim heard him swallow, and his heartbeat speed up. He could also smell the change in the smaller man's scent signaling arousal.

"Jeez, Jim, warn a guy, will you?" said Blair, licking his lips.

"Scared you, Chief?"

"Scared me? You kidding? I'm talking about that," said the younger man, waving his index finger in the general direction of Jim's body.

"About what?" asked Jim, playing the innocent.

"That!" insisted Blair, pointing at the muscular body once again. "Should be prohibited."

"Oh. Towel! The towel should be prohibited. 'Kay. Got it," said Jim, a smirk on his face, as he dropped the towel.

Blair closed his book and put it down on the table. He stood up and approached the naked vision. "Dick!"

"Right here, Chief," said Jim, grabbing his lover's hand and placing it on his growing erection.

Blair's fist closed around the hot flesh that pulsed and hardened beneath his fingers. He slid his other hand behind Jim's neck and pulled him down into a hungry kiss.

"You know what?" asked Jim, when their lips finally parted.

"No, what?"

"You're wearing way too many clothes, Sandburg."

"It's funny how you keep telling me that."

"Hey! Not my fault I'm butt naked here. Fair is fair, Junior."

"Always complaining. Always complaining," grumbled Blair. He released his lover's cock and headed towards the stairs. When he was almost at the top, he stopped and turned back to look at Jim who hadn't moved a muscle. "What?"

"Nothing. Just that you have the most amazing ass I've ever seen."

"So come and get it already!" said Blair. Then he turned back and climbed the last steps.

"Jim?" asked Blair, sliding his index finger around Jim's left nipple.

"Um?" came the semi-articulate reply.

"I called Tobias while you were in the bathroom."

"Tobias? How is he?"

"Fine. He says 'Hi'."

"It's so sad what happened to him. He's a good man."

"Yes, he is. Jim? I invited him for dinner. Friday is okay, right?"

"Yeah. Why would it be a problem?" asked Jim, sliding his fingers into his lover's hair.

"Mm, dunno. He also proposed that we go up to his cottage in Vancouver for the weekend sometime."

"Hey, that's great. I like the guy," said Jim, sliding his hand from Blair's hair to his shoulders.

"Like... him... too..." mumbled Blair, now sucking the nipple he had been playing with a few moments ago.

Jim moaned and Blair climbed on top of him. He bit gently on the hard nub, then blew on it, feeling the tremors in Jim's body. Licking languorously, he traced his way down the muscular body, alternately sucking, biting, licking and kissing. Closing his fingers around the base of Jim's penis, he took the head gently into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it, dipping the tip into the slit.

Groaning Jim bit his bottom lip. He threaded his fingers into Blair's hair and pulled him closer.

Blair took the whole length of Jim's penis into his mouth deep-throating him. He closed his other hand around his own cock and started to stroke himself in rhythm with his sucking on Jim's cock. It didn't take long for both of them to come -- Jim arching his back and releasing his seed into Blair's warm mouth and Blair shooting his onto his belly, his chest, and the sheets.

Finally he let Jim's softened cock slip from his mouth, grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and cleaned himself. Then he threw the tissues in the trashcan and crawled up his lover's body. Jim was already asleep so he rested his head on the gently moving chest and sighed happily.

"Love you, Jim," he whispered, and dropped a tender kiss on his sleeping beauty's lips. He soon followed him into slumber.

Tobias woke up and busied himself with his morning ritual -- bath, tea, breakfast and newspaper. As he skimmed the front page one of the headlines caught his attention and he read the article carefully.

Mystery Artifact Stolen

Last night part of a legendary golden amulet was stolen from the National Archeology Museum of Cascade. The semicircular piece, representing the Moon, is one of the four sections of the Owichika Amulet, better known as the "Amulet of Chaos." Two parts of the amulet are held by unidentified private individuals said to act as "guardians" of these pieces. The two remaining sections, generally considered the most beautiful, were on long-term loan to museums, protected by sophisticated alarm systems and guards. Last night's theft prompted the owner of the other of these pieces, a necklace with a carved ring, to remove it from a New York museum where it had been on display.

An unusual legend has long been associated with the object. It claims the four parts, when put together, form a lethal weapon. If this happens the world will supposedly end in chaos at the hands of the one who dared to open "the gates of the skies." Local UFOlogist Bruno Speen expressed hope that the amulet will never be re-formed. Members of his organization, the Cascade UFO Society, contend that "the safety of the whole world is at stake."

Dr. Gerald Somerset, Director of the Museum, scoffs at tales of legendary powers. "The artifact is solid gold," he notes. "I don't think anyone needs to seek any motive beyond financial gain." Police are investigating the theft, but report no leads at present. Anyone with knowledge of the crime should contact the Major Crime division of the Cascade Police Department. You need not give your name.

"Want some juice?" asked Jim.

"Uh, huh," answered Blair absentmindedly from behind his newspaper.

"Your eggs are getting cold."

"Uh, huh."

Jim shook his head in amazement. Blair had apparently found something in the newspaper so engrossing that his breakfast was congealing.

"More coffee?" he asked, knowing perfectly that Blair's cup was still full... something really unusual at this time of the morning.

"Uh, huh," said Blair again.

Okay. Plan B.

"I'm pregnant," said Jim, trying his best to sound serious.

Blair folded the corner of the newspaper down to peer above it. He stared at Jim, one eyebrow arched, but said nothing. Then he unfolded the corner and turned back to his reading.

"Ooo-kay," said Jim. "Sandburg! What the hell is going on?"

Blair held up his index finger, motioning to Jim to wait just one more minute. Jim sighed and waited.

Suddenly the newspaper lowered slowly and a pale anthropologist appeared from behind it. "Oh, shit!"

"What?" asked Jim, now worried.

"I can't believe it. One piece of the Owichika Amulet has been stolen. Man, this is so not good. This amulet is like, wow! I can't believe it's been stolen. What were they doing in that museum? Playing cards or something? I mean, come on... who'd let a piece of the Owichika Amulet be stolen. It's like..."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Easy, Chief. The Chiquita amulet? What the hell is that? Start the story from the beginning, in slow motion?"

"'Owichika', not 'Chiquita'. It's an amulet, not a banana. Anyway it's also known as the 'Amulet of Chaos'."

"Nice," said Jim.

Blair shot him a glance and Jim smiled. "Okay, Okay. Go on."

"The amulet consists of four parts that have been dispersed around the globe over the years. Two were in museums, the other ones are kept secretly somewhere by individual owners. Not together, of course."

"Of course."

"Jim!" said Blair impatiently.

Jim motioned his lover to continue and decided to hear the whole story.

"Where was I? Ah, yes. If the four parts are put together and the amulet is recreated, it will open 'the gates of the skies' and the world will be destroyed by some alien weapon."

Jim couldn't believe his hears. "Okay -- I think you've seen too many episodes of Buffy and Roswell. No more TV for you, Spooky. You're thirty-one. Get real. Amulets... chaos... 'gates of the skies'... aliens... What else? Devils and vampires? Come on!"

"Jim, I'm not saying it's true. But as an anthropologist, I studied all those legends. There are versions of the story all over South and Central America. The amulet has been feared ever since it was made... made in solid gold, by the way."

"Sounds like a good motive to me," said Jim, sipping at his coffee.

"Yeah... but it's also possible the person who stole it did it because he believes the legend."

Jim struck a pose. "So he can -- dare I say it? Rule the world?"

"Very funny. Your Vincent Price imitation leaves a lot to be desired."

"Well, it doesn't matter if it's true or not. We can't do much without any leads, Chief. It's not we can go around searching the whole city for that thing," said Jim, pointing to the picture of the amulet in the newspaper. "It's probably not even in Cascade any more."

"I know. But I'd just like to stay updated on this," said Blair, finally taking a bite of his cold scrambled eggs.

Just as Jim and Blair were removing their jackets, Simon's door opened and they heard their Captain bellow.

"Ellison! Sandburg! My office, now!"

Jim looked at his watch. "Five minutes late, it's not that bad."

Blair just shrugged his shoulders and they made their way to Simon's office. Jim knocked and they waited.

"Get in here," shouted Simon from inside his lair.

They obeyed. "Sorry, Sir. We're late, but...” Jim started to say.

"Leave the door open; the ventilation in here is getting cranky again. You know I didn't call you in for tardiness. I can't help it if you can't get the kid outta bed faster," he said, smiling.

"Hey!" said Blair. "He was the one staying in bed. I almost had to put him in the shower still asleep."

"Asleep? That's a load of..."

"Okay! Okay! Stop right now. I've heard enough," said Simon, raising a hand.

The three men smiled, but Simon quickly became serious again.

"Well, gentlemen. I didn't call you in here to talk about your domestic arrangements. Did you hear about the theft from the museum?" asked Simon.

Blair and Jim shared a look. "Yeah. I had a whole lecture about it this morning," said Jim. His reward was a nudge in the ribs.

"Fine. Well, this is more officious than official, but..." began Simon, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He presented the pot to Jim and Blair who shook their heads. "I have this friend who's the Assistant Director of the FBI. He called and asked me if I could put my best men on the investigation."

Blair was literally bouncing on his feet. "Great! Cool! Thank you, Simon."

"Yeah, thanks," said Jim sarcastically.

"Oh, come on, Jim. It'll be great," enthused Blair, smacking Jim on the shoulder.

"Will you stop hitting me?" said Jim, pretending to be irritated. "Wonderful. After ghosts, we're gonna chase aliens," he complained, sliding his palm over his face.

"It won't be aliens. What we're going to search for is an amulet," said the woman who stood in the doorway.

"And who might you be?" asked Jim.

"Special Agent Dana Scully, FBI," said the woman, showing them her ID. "And this is my partner, Special Agent Fox Mulder."

"Ah, the Feds. It's getting better and better," said Jim. "Any more surprises?"

"I'm sure AD Skinner told you we were coming," said Scully.

"Yes," said Simon. "I just hadn't had the time to tell them yet."

Jim was in his full 'Don't-come-closer-or-I'll-bite' mode, doing a very good pit bull imitation. Blair decided some tension relief was in order. He approached the petite redheaded agent and smiled engagingly. "Hi, my name's Blair Sandburg."

"Mister Sandburg, I'm Dana Scully," she said, shaking his hand.

"Please. Call me Blair."

"Mister Sandburg," she insisted. "I've been told you're not a detective?"

Blair thought he would have to jump on his lover to prevent him from going into full defensive mode. He touched Jim lightly the arm just as he stood up and stepped in between Blair and the Feds. He towered above the woman who looked even more petite compared to Jim in all his pissed-off glory.

"No, he's not a detective, but he's my partner. You got a problem with that?"

"No. Not at all. Detective...?" she said, and waited.

"Ellison. Detective James Ellison."

"Well, Detective Ellison, nice to meet you," said Dana, holding out her hand.

Jim relaxed slightly. "Nice to meet you too, ma'am. Sorry, it's been an odd morning," said Jim, shaking Scully's hand.

"You can say that again," agreed Mulder, stepping into the game and talking for the first time.

They shook hands all around, then turned to face Simon.

"Well. Agent Scully, Agent Mulder, I'm Captain Simon Banks. We appreciate your cooperation with this department. This is my best team. Don't let Detective Ellison fool you; he likes to play the tough guy. I hope our collaboration will be effective and we'll find the piece of the amulet and the burglar. My secretary will give you copies of what information we have."

"Thank you, sir," said Scully. "We appreciate your help."

Simon smiled and dismissed them. "That will be all, gentlemen. Ma'am."

They left Captain Banks's office with Blair leading the way. "If you'll follow me, we can go to the break room. We'll be more comfortable talking there for now."

Jim watched the two FBI agents follow his partner, then he headed to Rhonda's desk. "Hi, Rhonda. You have the files on the robbery at the museum?"

"Yes. The Chiqui... Oki... the amulet?" she said smiling.

"Yep."

"Here you go, Jim," said Rhonda, giving the detective four folders. "Enough for everyone."

He walked very slowly into the break room. He didn't like it when the Feds were around. When he opened the door, he found Sandburg in the middle of a lecture about the amulet, sharing stories and anecdotes with Mulder. Scully, on the other hand, seemed to have the same headache as the one starting to crawl up Jim's skull. He smiled sympathetically at her and put the files on the table. "Here you go. There's a copy for each of us."

Scully opened her briefcase and put some files onto the table. "And this is what we have."

Feds sharing info with cops?! Must be the Twilight Zone, thought Jim, bemused, as they opened the files and started to go through them. They set about sharing their respective info, taking notes, making summaries, pinpointing details.

Two hours and six coffees later, Blair took his glasses off and put them on the table. "Well, if you'll excuse me, that coffee is taking its toll on me," he said, standing up.

"I guess I need a break too," said Jim. "Do you need anything?" he asked Mulder and Scully.

"No, thanks," said Mulder. "I think I've had enough coffee too."

"I'm fine," said Scully, rubbing her eyes.

Blair and Jim left and headed toward the men's room.

Mulder stood up, approached the vending machine and started to search for something.

"Hey, Scully, you think they're...?" he asked after a little while.

"They're what, Mulder?"

"You know..." he said, making a little hand motion.

"No, I don't."

"Doing it," he insisted.

"Doing what?"

When Mulder didn't answer, Scully finally understood where her partner was going and laughed. "Mulder! You have a one-track and perverted mind! We just met them."

"Doesn't change anything. I tell you, Scully, those two are doing it," he said. Then he resumed his search for a snack. "Shit. They don't even have sunflower seeds," he finally said.

Scully shook her head and opened her briefcase again. She removed something and held it out for her partner. "Mulder..."

He turned back and saw the sunflower seed packet in her hand. "What would I do without you?" he asked, taking the packet and opening it. "Want one?"

"No, thanks," she replied.

Jim and Blair stood next to each other in the otherwise empty men's room.

"So, Jim?"

"What?" he asked glancing sideways.

"You think they're doing it?"

"What?"

"Mulder and Scully... you think they're doing it?" he repeated while zipping up his pants.

They moved to the sinks. "You can't stop thinking about sex, can you, Chief?" Jim said.

"Hey! Was just wondering, you know."

"Let's go, Cupid," said Jim, dropping a quick kiss on his lover's slightly parted lips and heading for the door.

"Jim! You didn't answer my question!" said Blair, trotting along behind.

"I know."

Tobias sat in his wheelchair, a book about the amulet spread over his lap. He carefully studied the illustrations of the four pieces, each of which represented something meaningful. The half circle that had been stolen represented 'the Moon'. The left quarter of the circle symbolized the 'Place Beyond the World'; the other quarter 'Sky'. The neckpiece with its carved ring was designed to support the other pieces and represented 'Earth'.

Each piece had its own history, and each was believed to have been created -- or at least discovered -- at a different period of time. It had taken hundreds of years for all the pieces to appear. Of the many legends that purported to explain their origins, an Inca tale was the most intriguing. It said that every fifty years a piece had been sent to a tribal guardian by the Huaca of the Two Rivers. Since the Inca conceptualized the Milky Way as two rivers, this reference caused the Chariots of the Gods set to claim the amulet was of alien origin. Others scoffed at the idea, pointing out that concepts of sky gods were almost universal in world mythology. If one assumed they were all space aliens, Earth would be the O'Hare Airport of the galaxy -- unlikely for a planet in what amounted to the galactic boondocks.

Tobias had just begun to read about the chaos that would supposedly ensue if the amulet were re-formed when someone knocked on his door. He put his book down and wheeled himself to the door.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"UPS. I have a package for you."

Tobias rose shakily from his chair to look through the peephole. The familiar brown uniform looked authentic, so he opened the door.

The deliveryman smiled down at the old man and gently handed him the package.

"Thank you, young man. Do I need to sign something?"

"Right here, Sir, that's it. Have a good day."

"Good day," replied Tobias, wheeling back into the living room and closing the door behind him.

He carefully examined the box. The small packet, about the size of a book, was from Antoine.

Opening the box, he removed the soft scarf it contained and felt something hard inside it. He unfolded the scarf and his face went white. Within it was the biggest part of the amulet, the necklace with the carved ring -- the part that had been removed from a museum by its guardian just after the theft of the half circle. There was also a letter. Tobias unfolded it with trembling hands and began to read.

My dear friend, these are probably the last words you'll hear from me. When you receive this letter, I will probably be dead. No, don't be sorry. I had a great life, everything that I could have wanted... a wonderful wife and a best friend who was more than a brother to me. I also had work that I loved. I have just one more thing to accomplish in my life... to protect the biggest piece of the amulet. It has belonged to our family since its beginning -- one of my ancestors was the watchman to whom it was given. Unfortunately I know I have been watched recently, and I also know that the amulet won't be secure with me. I removed it from the museum to entrust it to you. Would you watch over it for me? You are the best friend I've ever had. Thank you. Your friend forever. Antoine

When Jim and Blair came back in the break room, Mulder and Scully were sitting at the table, showing the same exhaustion on their faces that Jim and Blair displayed.

"Time to go get something to eat," said Jim. "Then I'd like to go to the museum."

"Okay. Lead the way," said Mulder.

They put their files back into their folders and briefcase and left the PD. When they reached the parking garage, Jim and Blair took Jim's truck, Mulder and Scully their rental car.

They went to Nature's Delights at Blair's suggestion, Jim complaining all the way but giving in to his lover's request. They were seated near an aquarium with salt-water fish which seemed to fascinate Mulder. The place was beautiful, painted a soothing cream. The decor consisted of cane chairs, nice green tables, and a lot of plants. On the walls were posters of Mother Nature's wonders from all over the world -- Niagara Falls, Victoria Falls, El Salto del Angel and other waterfalls. The air was fresh and cool and soft music, probably one of Greenpeace's CDs, was playing.

Jim felt better immediately and lost some of his tension, as if the place had a relaxing effect on him. He smiled at Blair, silently thanking his guide for bringing him here, his initial reluctance forgotten. Scully smiled appreciatively.

Mulder frowned as he checked the menu. Only fresh, healthy food -- no hamburgers, French fries or other greasy stuff. "Haven't these people ever heard of cheeseburgers?" he complained.

Blair regaled the group with his most lurid Wonderburger horror stories while they ordered various healthy sandwiches and salads. They avoided talking about the case during the meal, savoring the good food. Once again, Jim silently thanked Blair for bringing them there, his first bad impression forgotten. He had noticed that Mulder hadn't appeared very happy about it either, but the FBI agent was now digging into his pasta salad like a starving man. Scully and Blair looked like they had just died and gone to heaven. Jim was appreciative of the relaxing effect the place had on him. The nice feeling that had enveloped him was still present and he made a mental note to come back here.

When they were done, Blair called the waiter and ordered a fresh fruit compote for four and mint tea.

"I'm full," said Mulder.

"Me too," said Scully.

"Don't say that until you've tried it. You have to try their fruit compote. It's made from fresh seasonal fruit, mostly local, simmered in a great wine-and-herb sauce. Whipped cream on the side..."

"Okay, you convinced me," said Mulder.

"I'll give it a try," said Scully.

"And the tea, oh, man. It's some of the best I've ever drunk. It's made with fresh mint and a little bit of green tea, just like the tradition in Morocco."

"Easy, Chief, you're drooling," said Jim bemused.

"You'll see when you've tried it," said Blair.

"That was excellent, Chief. Why haven't you brought me there before?"

"Well, the place is really new, open a month maybe, and I only discovered it myself last week. I was at the U doing some research for my thesis when Tobias brought me here."

"You gotta thank the man."

"Oh, yeah."

They finally arrived at the museum and parked. They entered and asked the director to show them the room where the amulet had been displayed. He led them there and left. The room was still closed to the public and the area was encircled with the POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS yellow tape. The scene had been processed by Forensics during the night, so Jim wasn't sure that he could find something they hadn't.

He carefully approached the pedestal holding the display case which had contained the piece of the amulet and scanned the area. Dialing up sight and touch, he crouched down, carefully examining the pedestal and its burden. He paid particular attention to the place where they joined and to the area around the lock.

"Chief, could you give me your Swiss Army knife?" he asked, taking a plastic bag from his pocket.

Blair handed over the knife. Mulder and Scully were assiduously checking the ventilation system and didn't appear to be in position to notice Jim using his senses.

Taking the knife, Jim pulled out the tweezers and gently coaxed a tiny hair from the juncture of pedestal and case. He lifted it and put it in the bag, zipping it. Then he closed the knife and gave it back to his Guide. He held the bag to Blair's face and smiled.

"I think we got something."

"Hair? You really believe it belongs to the thief?" asked Blair.

"Dunno. But it's right where a hair might get caught if someone were crouched down, giving this thing the once-over. Not exactly the position the average museumgoer would take -- or even the staff. It's worth a shot."

Mulder and Scully were back and Mulder took the plastic bag from Jim's hand, holding it to his face. "Hair?" It was short and dark.

"Yeah," said Jim.

"And you believe it's from the thief?" asked Mulder, snorting.

"Listen, pal. I'm not saying it's definitely from the thief, but it's worth a try."

"He's right," said Scully. "If we can identify a suspect, it might be possible to run a DNA test and see if we get a match."

"Thank you," said Jim.

"I know that," said Mulder. "I'm just saying that it's probably from one of the Forensics guys."

"Maybe, maybe not," said Blair. "They're pretty careful."

Suddenly Jim stopped and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and sniffed.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Mulder.

"Uh, nothing," said Blair, hurrying to Jim's side. "Jim! Jim, come on, man."

Jim opened his eyes and looked at his Guide. "It's okay, Chief. I wasn't zoning," he whispered.

"Do you have something?" asked Blair.

"Yeah. Perfume and Russian cigarettes."

"What?" asked Mulder, who had approached them.

"I can smell cologne, Dolce & Gabana, and Russian cigarettes."

"Yeah, right, and I'm Mickey Mouse," said Mulder.

"Mulder!" reprimanded Scully.

"He's got a really good sense of smell," said Blair.

"It's possible, Mulder. He's right. Some people do have an exceptional sense of smell. So you can detect cologne and Russian cigarettes?"

"Yes."

"Couldn't it be from one of the Forensics team or someone for the Museum?"

"I don't think so. Most of our forensics people don't smoke, and if they do, their tastes run to plain old American brands. Besides I smelled the same on the hair in that bag."

"So it could be from the same person who lost that hair," said Scully.

"Exactly. And my guess is that it's from the thief. Let's go back to HQ and talk to Forensics."

"Hey, Serena," said Blair.

"Hello, Blair. Jim."

"Serena, these are FBI Special Agents Mulder and Scully. Agents, meet Serena Chang, Head of Forensics."

They shook hands and Jim took the plastic bag from his pocket.

"Could you get a DNA test run on this?" asked Jim.

Serena blinked a few times at the plastic bag and finally noticed the hair. "Oh." Taking a magnifying glass from her desk, she examined it more closely. "Well, you've got the follicle end, so there's a good chance we'll get something usable. Where's the sample you want to match it against?"

Jim turned on the charm. "Well, we don't exactly have one. Yet."

Serena lifted an eloquent eyebrow. "Are you seriously asking me to run a DNA analysis on spec? Do you have any idea how time-consuming and labor-intensive an RFLP test is? And therefore expensive? Tell him, Blair."

"Well," Blair admitted, "it does utilize radioactive reagents that require special lab procedures. The PCR test is faster and simpler but nowhere near as convincing."

Scully nodded. "It's a difference of one individual in billions versus one in thousands. Obviously RFLP makes a lot stronger case if and when comes to prosecution."

"How did I get surrounded by DNA experts?" Jim grumbled.

Blair shrugged. "Hey, anthropologists use DNA all the time -- to identify and clarify relationships among human groups, both extinct and extant."

"And Scully here," Mulder pointed out rather proudly, "is an M.D."

"Really? That is so cool." Blair moved closer to the redhead. "That's unusual, to get a degree like that and then go into law enforcement. Why did you decide on a move like that?"

"Long story." Scully smiled enigmatically. "You're an anthropologist? How did you manage to end up in a police department?"

"Even longer story. And I'm not a doctor yet -- the Ph.D. kind, I mean, although I will be soon, knock wood. And I'm only a humble and underpaid consultant."

"Do you think," Jim interrupted testily, "you could do your career counseling some other time? We've got a case to work on here." He turned to Mulder. "What about running the sample against that DNA database you guys have?"

"CODIS? We could try, but right now it's almost exclusively sex offenders, with a smattering of other violent offenders. Not a likely place to find a nice peaceable thief."

"You want me to run an expensive DNA test on spec to catch a thief?" Serena almost shouted.

"Catchy title," Mulder mumbled. Scully shot him a look.

Jim looked pained. "Serena, you didn't used to be such a bean counter about this sort of thing."

"I didn't used to be responsible for the Forensics budget," she countered.

"Uh, Serena?" Blair's voice was soft, his eyes widened in full puppy-dog mode. "Didn't you say you had a couple of new techs?"

"Yeesss..." she admitted suspiciously.

"And didn't you tell me a couple of days ago that you wished they had more experience in RFLP analysis?"

Serena sighed. You could almost see the white flag go up. "Yes. Damn you, Blair..."

"Come on," Blair enthused, "sounds like we've got a win-win situation shaping up here."

"Oh, all right," she capitulated. "But if you don't come up with a comparison sample eventually I'm telling Simon to take the cost of this little exercise out of your salaries. I suppose you need the results..."

"Yesterday," said Jim, smiling at the woman.

"Don't push your luck."

"Thanks," said Jim. "We owe you."

"Yeah. I'll put in on your extensive tab."

It was almost 5:00 pm by the time they were back at Jim's desk.

"Hey," exclaimed Blair suddenly, as if he had just had an epiphany.

"What?" asked Jim.

"Maybe I could call Tobias to see if he knows something about the amulet."

"Tobias?" asked Mulder.

"Yes. He's one of my old mentors -- taught me everything I know about research. He's still working at the U. Maybe he knows a little more about the amulet."

"You think that it could help us find the thief?" asked Scully.

"I don't know, but it could help us to understand the thief's motivation."

"Which could help to narrow the search," added Jim.

"Maybe," said Mulder.

"We can't do much more until we get the results of the test. So we may as well go and see him."

As if to reinforce Blair's suggestion, his cell phone rang.

"Sandburg."

"Hello, Blair. This is Tobias."

"Tobias, we were just talking about you. We're planning on paying you a visit."

"Great minds think alike, my boy. I was calling because I need to talk to you."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at my place, and I really need to talk to you."

Jim frowned, hearing the same tremor in the old man's voice that caused Blair's heart rate to speed up.

"Well, we can be there in twenty."

"I'll be waiting."

"Bye."

"Bye."

"I hope nothing's wrong, Chief," said Jim.

"What do you mean?" asked Mulder, staring at Jim, who was staring with equal intensity at Blair.

"It was Tobias," said Blair. "He needs to talk to me. Guess our visit will be worth it."

Before Mulder could ask any more questions, Blair added, "We should go."

"What is wrong with that guy?"

"What do you mean?"

"Scully, you saw it like I did."

"Saw what?"

"He noticed that tiny hair where no normal person could."

"So? He has pretty good sight, that's all."

"And the smell of cologne and cigarettes? Russian cigarettes. He even told us what cologne it was."

"He can have a pretty good sense of smell too," suggested Scully, shrugging her shoulders.

Mulder glanced sideways at his partner. "Oh, yeah? And what about the fact that he was hoping that everything would be okay for that other guy? How could he have known what the man on the phone was telling Sandburg?"

"I don't know, Mulder. Maybe he has pretty good hearing? Or maybe he's just very tuned in to his partner. That's been known to happen."

"Sure. Or the guy's on drugs."

"Ellison can't be on drugs and you know it. As a detective, he's tested regularly."

"Yeah. But then how do you explain what he does?"

"As we discussed earlier, it's probable that he has some senses developed beyond the norm. I know a lot of cases where people have one, two or even three heightened senses."

Mulder huffed and glanced again at the woman, then went back to staring at the road. "I tell you, Scully, if he starts doing other weird stuff, I'm gonna have words with him."

Scully shook her head and decided to drop the subject. She knew of more than a few people with one or two exceptional senses. Although the scientist in her was intrigued, she doubted Ellison would appreciate her or Mulder questioning him about that. The man needed to be respected as a fellow professional, not treated like an extra-large lab rat. But it wasn't surprising that he'd intrigued her partner -- although Mulder's interest was no doubt less than scientific. He was probably wishing for a sample of Ellison DNA so he could expose the poor man as some new breed of alien.

"So he didn't say anything, then?"

"No. Just said he needed to talk to me."

"You think it's about the amulet?"

"I don't know, Jim. Maybe. In any case, I'm sure he's got a book somewhere about the amulet."

"Chief, what are you expecting?"

"Probably nothing to help us with the case. Or, just as I told you before, maybe enough to help us narrow the search. But I'm curious about the legends," he said, grinning.

"That's my man," said Jim, placing his hand on the young anthropologist's thigh and squeezing.