Les Jumeaux

by Zulu



Scully glanced around as she entered the cluttered basement office, surprised that Mulder wasn't already behind the desk, setting up a slide show of their newest case. She flicked the lights on and sat at the desk, frowning.

Just then, Mulder burst in. "Scully!" he cried, grabbing her arm. "You've got to help me!"

Scully quickly got to her feet and came around the desk. "What is it, Mulder? Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" he flung back at her as he pulled her out the door. She glanced at his loose tie, his wrinkled clothes, and his mussed hair as she was hauled up the stairs.

"Frankly, no," she said. "But what is it?"

"An alien has stolen my life!" he yelled as they passed around the sea of desks on the main floor. Agents looked up from their work briefly, but aside from a few rolled eyes, there was no response to this outburst. Even the newest agents knew to take Fox Mulder's statements with a grain of salt.

Scully dug in her heels and brought him to a halt. "Mulder, you've said some crazy things in your time…but even after everything I've seen, I don't think an alien has stolen your life."

He turned to her, his dark eyes intent. "You have seen at least two people try to steal my life. And at least one of them was an alien. And at least one of them almost succeeded."

Scully blushed and stopped protesting. A haze of red wine still obscured the details, but she knew Mulder remembered the day Eddie van Blundht had cold-cocked him as though it were yesterday. Mulder placed his hand at the small of her back and hurried her along, bending down to whisper in her ear. "Scully, I am not kidding. I received a tape in the mail---plain wrapping, no return address. I pop it in the VCR and whose face appears on the screen? Mine. But it's nowhere I've ever been. And I've never seen the other people involved. An alien has taken my shape and is stealing my life."

They exited the building and Mulder led her to his car. Scully got in and waited until they were on their way before she spoke again. "Mulder, look, I happen to know that you get plainly-wrapped, unmarked packages of videos quite often. So is there any reason, besides the whole alien-stealing-your-life bit, why you couldn't show me this tape in your office?"

She looked over at him and bit back a smile as a red flush rose up his neck. Mulder didn't answer, but reached for his plastic cup of sunflower seeds, tossed them back like a shot, and accelerated. Scully sighed and reached into the glove compartment. She brought out a bag of seeds and refilled the cup. "I don't suppose it would be any use to wonder whether you happened to get really drunk one night? Or stoned? And that maybe this is the result?"

Mulder shook his head, still crunching.

"Or maybe it was Eddie van Blundht. He was alone for quite some time before we caught him."

Mulder's eyes widened and he choked out through the sunflower shells, "We?"

Scully could feel herself reddening again. "Yes. Well. It makes more sense than aliens. Why would an alien want to steal your life to do…uh…that."

The car jerked to a halt in front of Mulder's apartment building. He hopped out, spat out the shells, and said, "Some aliens come here to have fun. Arthur Dales' brother met one who only wanted to play baseball."

"Baseball?" She followed him into the hallway. "You're kidding."

He met her eyes as they entered the elevator. "Some of the best moments of my life have been spent with a baseball bat in my hands."

A smile slowly crept across Scully's face. There was no arguing with that. Especially, she said to herself, when your batting coach was Fox Mantle. At this moment, staring into the green pools of his eyes, it somehow seemed totally reasonable that an alien being had come to Earth, changed his appearance to match Mulder's, and was even now taping more lurid videos with the sole intent of stealing the hapless FBI agent's life. Her smile widened. "Okay. I can buy that baseball is fun," she conceded. "But why you? And why now? And why send you the tape?"

"I don't know," he said. "But I intend to find out." They stepped off the elevator and walked to number 42. Mulder opened the door and led the way to his well worn couch, sending her a meaningful glance as he started the tape.

A white sand beach stretched away into the distance. In the foreground, a group of assorted Barbie clones were stripping down to miniscule bikinis. A breathy female voice said: "If only we had someone to rub sun tan lotion on our backs."

Scully snorted. "They can't reach each others' backs?"

"Shhh." Mulder was staring intently at the screen. "Look. It's him."

A tall, dark-haired man was approaching the bathing beauties. "You don't want to get skin cancer, ladies," he said. "Allow me."

Scully gasped and leaned forward to get a better look. The voice…the face…even the red Speedo was familiar. How many times had she stood, overlooking the Olympic-sized pool at the FBI, watching a scene that only in her deepest fantasies approached what was happening on the TV in front of her?

"You see?" Mulder clicked the remote, and the image disappeared. He looked towards her. "Scully?"

She shook herself and turned away from the screen. "Yes?"

"Well, I can tell you, I don't know how to rub sun tan lotion on like that."

Under her breath, Scully muttered, "Too bad."

"What?"

"Oh. Nothing. You're right; he looks a lot like you. But what makes you think he's an alien? Or that he's even trying to steal your life?" She shook her head. "You know that sometimes exact duplicates do occur. We've met them."

"No. This is different." Mulder ejected the tape. "I am going to find out who he really is. According to the credits, his name is Dave Duanything."

"That's obviously an alias." Scully took the tape from him and inspected it. "You won't find him that way."

"No. But the production company is based here in Washington, and I've got the address."






The address led them to a strip joint downtown. The neon sign was robbed of its power by the sunny day, but they could make out the name: Bare Necessities. Inside, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of spilt alcohol. They made their way around the clutter of tables near the stage to get to the bar.

Mulder was reaching for his identification when a hairy-armed, thickset man clattered through the swinging doors into the back of the club. He took one look at Mulder and said, "The usual, Dave? I'll be right back."

Scully raised a brow. "I guess we're in the right place."

"I don't like it, Scully. This bartender knows too much." Mulder glared at the doors that had swung closed behind the departing barkeep.

"Because he knows your doppelganger's favorite drink?"

Mulder had no opportunity to answer. The bartender came back into the room and plunked down a bloody Mary and a plate full of dill pickles. "Who's your lady friend?" he asked. "Does she need work? Cause I got openings."

Scully stiffened. "You'll have a new opening if you repeat that remark."

"Okay," he said. "I get the message. You're slumming. Dave, I tell you, though, if you find any redheads…"

"My name is not Dave," Mulder interrupted. "And who in their right mind eats dill pickles with bloody Marys?" He wrinkled his nose and pushed the plate away.

"Sir, we are investigating a case," Scully said, and showed her badge. "Do you have the full name and address of the man you call Dave?"

"This is a joke, right? Just because you've gone mainstream, Dave, and you're not around so much any more, you think you can pull this on me. And I've been holding your delivery for months. You can take it and go."

"Mainstream?" Mulder asked.

"Yeah. Like all those 'how to immerse yourself in a character' classes. You used to have soul. But you've sold out. Here." The bartender reached beneath the counter and thrust a large package into Mulder's arms, then returned to the kitchen.

"Is it more videos?" Scully asked.

"No," he said. "It's soft. Let's get out of here and look at it."

Scully thought of objecting to opening the package without consent, but the look on Mulder's face forestalled her. They left the club and headed back to the car. Mulder tossed the keys to Scully and sat in the passenger seat.

"Look, there's an address," he said. "We may have gotten lucky after all." He gave her the directions, then tore open the brown paper.

The package opened to reveal a bright red garment. Scully glanced over. "What is it?"

Mulder shook out the leather. "It's a trench coat," he said "A bright red trench coat. A bright red leather trench coat." He shoved the coat into the back seat. "It must be aliens!" he growled. "No human would eat pickles with bloody Marys and wear a bright red leather trench coat!"

"I must say, the aliens I have met have had better fashion senses," Scully snapped sarcastically. "Mulder, we haven't found any evidence of aliens, or haven't you noticed? Wait, what am I asking? Of course you haven't noticed. You're too busy critiquing the guy who may just happen to resemble you."

"Resemble me? That bartender called me by his name!"

Scully sighed. "Well, I guess we'll get a better idea when we search his apartment. Here we are." She pulled the car to the curb.

Mulder jimmied the lock, and they made their way into the apartment. "Look at these videos," Mulder called to Scully as he checked the living room. "Red Shoe Diaries, Kalifornia, Return To Me. The war on good taste continues."

Scully returned from the bedroom. "That's nothing. Look at what I found." She held up a leather blindfold and a pair of velvet-lined handcuffs.

Mulder managed to put aside his obsession long enough to grin at the sight of his partner with those particular accoutrements. "Okay, I take it back. Good taste has not entirely deserted this guy."

She rolled her eyes and walked back to the bedroom. "He seems to have plenty of Dave Duanything videos to round out his collection," she said.

There was no reply. Scully looked up, then cautiously approached the bedroom door and glanced into the living room. "Oh my God," she whispered. "Not again."

Two Mulders stood before her. By some freakish twist of fate, both of them were dressed in charcoal suits with blue shirts and maroon ties. They were staring at each other in silence.

"Now what?" she said, coming into the room. "Mulder?"

Both men turned to her. "What?"

Scully groaned. They had spoken in unison, and the voices matched exactly. "How did I know it would come to this?" she asked the ceiling. "Doppelgangers. Always doppelgangers." She looked back at the Mulders. "I don't suppose Dave Duanything would care to step forward and end this farce?"

"Scully, it's me," Mulder said. "This guy just walked in."

"Hey!" the other Mulder interrupted. "That's not true. He just walked in. Look, Scully, you can ask me anything. I'll prove that I am Mulder."

"So that's why you sent me that video!" said the first. "You want to steal my life, and this is how you planned to get it! Make us investigate, and then confuse the hell out of us."

"Aha! That was your plan, then," said the second. "Now it becomes clear. Thank you for explaining yourself."

"There's just one problem. Scully knows me too well to get pulled in by this scheme of yours."

"Uh, Mulder? Dave?" The two mirror images turned toward her. Scully held up her gun. "Look. I don't know who's trying to steal whose life. And I'd rather not get into all my old secrets just to prove yourselves. It's obvious that whichever one is the fake will have done his homework. So I want both of you to sit on the couch and just let me figure this out myself."

"Scully!" The response came again, echoed in each other.

"Sit!" Scully took the chair facing the Mulders. "Okay, if you're an alien, as Mulder believes, I could cut you and you'd bleed green. But purposefully inhaling toxic alien goo is not my idea of a good time. And if you're human, then it wouldn't help. But there is one thing that will prove which is which."

"What?"

Scully stared from one Mulder to the other, and back. "I'm not sure how I feel about this investigative technique," she said. "But if it's the only way…Well, I'm willing to take it." She held up a piece of paper. "I just found this in the bedroom. It's a receipt from a tattoo and body piercing salon. Quite recent."

"Scully, what are you saying?"

"Do you mean…?"

"Yes. I am going to inspect each of you. Thoroughly."






Mulder and Scully made their way out of the Federal Detention Building. "Well, Mulder," said Scully, "you were partly right. Someone was trying to steal your life."

Mulder was silent. She glanced at his face, trying to fathom what was going on behind his impassive features. Her 'investigative technique' was probably still running through his mind. She certainly couldn't forget it. She shook her head, trying to clear it of oddly disturbing images. I'm a medical doctor, she told herself. It was a professional exam. Nothing more.

Yeah, right.

"I mean, who knew he would be so obsessed with your life, just because you look alike?" She tried again to break the silence. "At least now he'll be getting a psychological profile. And counseling."

Mulder frowned down at her. "What was it?"

"What do you mean?" She knew what he meant.

"You know what I mean."

Scully shrugged. "Just a body piercing."

"Uh huh. If you found a body piercing on him, why did you have to inspect me?"

She looked away. "You know, Mulder, we really should develop some sort of code word in case this happens again. I mean, three times can't be coincidence. Just a simple phrase. I don't want to be put in that situation again."

"Don't you? ---And you're changing the subject."

"No, I'm not. All I'm trying to say is, if I ever see two of you…"

Finally, Mulder managed a smile. She could avoid the subject, but he knew the truth. A full body inspection was more than it seemed with Dr. Dana Scully. And at least now he knew he was worth looking over twice. "Okay, Scully, if you ever see two of me, I'll yell something I'm quite sure that any alien trying to steal my life would never say." He opened the car door for her and walked around to the driver's side.

Scully nodded as they got in. "And what would that be?"

Mulder grinned. "Dave Duanything's body piercing!" And with a laugh, he toasted her with his plastic cup of sunflower seeds and started the car.


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Fall 2001