Scully marvelled at the adaptability of the human psyche. You change bodies with your partner, you freak out. The next day, you wake up and freak out again. But after a week, well, you get into a routine and at some point it just becomes the normal state of affairs. Or maybe it was just sitting around in a car with Mulder, driving through some desolate countryside, like they had done a thousand times before, that gave her a sense of security and normality. Usually, those two never lasted long in her world.
"Whoa" said Mulder and brought the car to a stop.
"What the hell is that?"
Before Scully could ask what exciting new horrors destiny had in stock for them now, Mulder had already left the car. With a sigh, Scully followed. When she reached Mulder, he was standing in front of a gas station. Out of the left side of which a half pick-up truck seemed to have grown. Two feet above ground level.
"What do you think happened here?" Mulder was trying to reach the door knob, again forgetting his new height.
"Best Guess? Modern Art." Scully opened the door for him and took a look inside. It seemed the truck had been cleanly cut in the middle and somehow attached to the side of the building.
Mulder shot her a glare, making her briefly wonder whether being stuck in somebody's body could make you adapt to that person's behavior and personality after a while. As a kind of psychological defense to the unfamiliar situation. Or maybe the neurons in the brain just rearranged themselves after a certain time. Wondering whether this would mean that they would automatically switch back at some point or whether she would become Mulder, Scully followed Mulder, who had just run off in some direction without a word. Which was such a typical Mulder thing to do that she immediately discarded her newest theory. When she reached him, he was standing in front of the closed front door, taking a look inside. At the back half of a pick-up truck, about two feet above ground, clearly visisble in the left wall.
"Still think this is modern art?"
"I don't see why it wouldn't be."
Mulder shot her another glare, which looked absolutely familiar and completely alien on her own face, at the same time. Scully wondered, not for the first time, if they had got in contact with some chemical on the road the other night and this was only an elaborate fantasy. A haptic, olfactory, visual illusion. With superb surround-sound. Speaking of which...
"Do you hear that?"
They turned around, only to see an armada of black cars coming straight at them.
Mulder looked around, quickly estimating the distance to their own car and the speed of the approaching cars. There was no way they were getting out of here unnoticed. He decided to face the suits instead of trying to run. Scully seemed to have reached the same conclusion and remained calmly by his side.
Morris Fletcher was annoyed. His day had already been a disaster and now he had to deal with those idiot F.B.I. agents again, who had no place being here anyway.
"Would you two please stop interfering with matters of national security?"
"National security? We were just stopping at a gas station. I didn't know that was illegal in this country."
Fletcher raised an eyebrow. He had been told the guy would be the problem, but now the woman was giving him the cocky attitude.
"I'm sure you have been told to stop investigating this case. You're interfering with our investigation."
"Just stopping for gas. What do you think happened to that pick-up?"
"So, modern art is now a matter of national security?"
With a sigh, Fletcher got out his cell and walked out of hearing distance of the agents, keeping an eye on them.
Mulder tried to get close to Scully's ear to whisper something and got irritated again by how short he was now. He tried to get up on tiptoe. He had never realized how much easier life is when you're tall.
"This doesn't look good."
"Do you think they already know they have a traitor in their base?"
Fletcher came back, closing his cell. "Bring them in for questioning."
"What? On what grounds?"
Mulder watched as Scully was dragged off to one of the black cars by three armed men. Two others shoved him into another nondescript black vehicle.
"Hey, there is no need to be rude!"
The men just ignored his protests, got into the car and started driving.
'Well this is getting better and better. I hope I can remember to answer as Scully during the interrogation. If they find out we switched, we're never getting out of there.'
Yes, it's alive! Sorry for the eternity without updates. I moved to the Netherlands and was looking for a job and had a lot of other things to do. But I just looked at the link to this site yesterday and thought I could do something about it before the story was completely forgotten. Thanks to all the people who still reviewed even though it looked as though the story wouldn't get continued! Keep it up!