Mulder breathed a sigh of relief as Scully opened the door to their office. The cab ride back to the Hoover Building had been quiet, punctuated only with small talk about dry cleaning and Mulder's recent car problems. The partners never discussed cases in the presence of strangers anymore, so the cab was not the place to divulge the information Skinner had given him during their short phone conversation. And, even though the case seemed to be a garden-variety missing person, Mulder was glad it would keep Scully away - even temporarily - from the cloying smile and roving hands of FitzMauler, as his cousin has been known in their Oxford days, for a few days or even weeks. After some solid time in the field, Scully might even forget the twit entirely. Scully was serious-minded, not the giddy bimbo type Fitz favoured. Serious-minded women favoured...

He stopped himself. He glanced at her as she opened her laptop and powered up. What exactly did Scully favour?

He realized, suddenly, that he had no idea. None.

"So what is it this time, Mulder? Yeti sighting? Blood oozing from paintings in the National Gallery?" She widened her eyes and curled up one side of her mouth in a smile. "Fake call to get rid of the annoying relative?"

Mulder mock-gasped and pressed his hand to his chest. "Scully, you misjudge me! I'd never fake a call to get rid of Fitz. I'd just give him a wedgie and stuff him in his Rolls."

Scully put on her glasses. "Bentley."

"Bentley, Rolls, what's the difference?" Mulder said as he opened the manila envelope that had been left on his desk. "Just another bourgeois tactic to impress the common folk."

Arching her brow, Scully asked, "Are you calling me 'common'?"

"Never."

"The Mulders from this side of the Atlantic were pretty well off, too, weren't they?" she asked.

Mulder shrugged. "Well enough, I guess," he answered, not especially comfortable with the subject.

"No title, though," teased Scully.

'No candidates for Upperclass Twit of the Year, either,' Mulder thought. Deciding the topic was in desperate need of changing, he peeked into the envelope, looking for fodder. "Well, what have we here?" He pulled the Sports Illustrated from the envelope. "Not even the swimsuit issue. Rats."

Scully took it from him. "'Gold Standard - World Swimming Champions In Close Competition'," she read from the cover. "I saw something about this on ESPN a week or so ago. The top four male swimmers in the world keep battling each other for titles, just seconds ahead or behind each other. It's the most amazing field ever, and is sure to make the next Olympics incredible."

"When did you start watching ESPN?" he asked.

"When they started talking about these guys," she answered, flipping through the magazine. "Holy cow," she murmured.

Mulder moved behind her. What he saw was not a story. It was a fold-out of four scantily clad physical specimens posed around the Trevi Fountain in Rome. Reclining to the left was Thomas Orwenyo of Kenya. In the middle stood Xien Cho of China and Angelo Panucci of Italy. To the right was none other than Eldon "Junior" McCuskey, pride of the Tar Heel State.

"Nice fountain," Mulder commented.

She chuckled. "I guess I've picked up a few of your habits, Mulder." She turned her head and Mulder found she was just an inch from his lips.

"Good habits, I hope," Mulder said slowly.

"Mostly," she whispered.

He was just about to ask what bad habits of his she'd acquired when the slap of expensive wing tips coming down the hall alerted them that Skinner was on his way to their door. Scully collected herself and the envelope's contents just as the A.D. arrived in their office.

"Agents," Skinner said as he handed them both print-outs. "We have the makings of an international incident on our hands and we need quick, discreet action."

"Quick and discreet - that's us," Mulder replied.

Skinner ignored his remark. "The INS and State Department want agents not known for their work in immigration or defection cases to keep the lid on this."

He gestured to their desk chairs and stood to the side of Mulder's desk as he held up pages from his own stack of files; they were identical to the fold-out Scully had so recently been admiring. "At approximately 0900 hours this morning, Xien Cho, citizen of the People's Republic of China, went missing from The Westin Grand Hotel here in Washington. He is currently on a two week good-will tour of North America with these other three swimmers. To say the least, the Chinese government is crying foul, suggesting he's been kidnapped as a result of lax security. Our government has no official position at this time beyond promising a thorough and swift investigation."

"And what is our government's unofficial position?" Scully asked.

Skinner half-shrugged. "Given that he's seen the wealth Chinese athletes like Yao Ming can have here, it's possible he's defecting. Whatever the case, this young man has not been seen or heard from in over seven hours. With the current tense relations between China and the U.S., I'm sure you understand how important it is to keep this out of the papers."

Scully frowned. "Why are they saying kidnapping or defection so soon? Don't they think a young man might decide to take off on his own for a few hours in a new city?"

Skinner shook his head. "His handlers say Xien is extremely focused and would never miss a training session. Questions?"

Mulder nodded. "Where do we start?"

"The entourage travelling with the swimmers is at Georgetown University for a photo shoot today and they'll be ready for an interview upon your arrival. Please report back to me as soon as the interviews are complete."

He closed his file and handed Mulder a set of keys.

"Valet service?" Mulder quipped, surprised.

Skinner gave a rueful grin. "Last car left in the pool. If the oil light goes on, bring it back. Immediately."

"Will do," Mulder agreed.

"Before the engine burns up," Skinner emphasized. With that, he turned and walked out the door.

Scully smirked, probably suppressing the half-dozen snide comments that popped into her head, Mulder thought.

"Come on, Prince Charming. Let's go get the coach."

As he buttoned his trench, Mulder said, "Won't you feel like you're slumming in the Crown Vic after the thrill of Fitz's big Bentley?"

"You said it yourself, Mulder. It was only to impress the commoners and I really wasn't impressed." She smiled. "Guess that makes me uncommon."

He held the door for his partner as she walked through it. 'You have no idea, Scully,' he thought.

xXx

The scent of chlorine slapped her in the nose, and testosterone wafted closely behind. And what magnificent behinds were in view, Scully mused, mesmerized as four thoroughbred swimmers strained at the starting block, toes curled and bodies jackknifed, waiting for an imaginary start signal. Georgetown University Aquatic Centre was ground zero of a photographic feeding frenzy.

Mulder cleared his throat. Scully started and deliberately focused away from the swimmers. "I thought one of the swimmers was missing, Mulder," she stammered. "Just trying to figure out what's going on."

"Uh huh." Mulder's tone was wry. "Why don't we ask someone?"

Mulder shed his suit coat. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple and disappeared under the collar of his dress shirt. He loosened his tie.

As he walked away, Scully snuck a peek at yet another magnificent behind, then scowled as Mulder strolled up to what seemed to be the only woman in a roomful of men. A woman who appeared to be disrobing in public, piece by Versace piece.

Scully crossed her arms as the raven-haired beauty handed clothes to a patient assistant, as she peeled down to a tiny pink bra and matching bikini panties which didn't hide anything of her perfect figure. She looked familiar.

'Aha,' thought Scully suddenly, she was the model from the Black Orchid perfume poster they had seen with Lord Mulder- Mulder. What was she doing here?

Scully tapped her foot as Mulder leaned into the model's space, apparently lost in earnest dialogue. It was several impatient minutes later before Mulder and the model deigned to walk back to where she stood, the model waving away her own entourage.

Scully ignored the considering look in the model's eyes as she looked down on Scully. ‘She's probably sizing up the competition,’ Scully concluded glumly, ‘when there's obviously no comparison. Damn the man for introducing me to a beauty in her underwear.’

Mulder seemed oblivious to her discomfort. "Agent Scully, this is Lady Jane Horsey de Horsey." His grin was the kid-at-a- candy-shop kind. "From billboard to the real thing. Coincidence, huh?"

Lady Jane grasped Scully's hand and flashed a brilliant smile. "Absolutely lovely to meet you, Miss Scully. Or is it Mrs. Scully?"

"Agent Scully. Why are you-?" She waved her hand in Lady Jane's direction. The model laughed, Mulder grinned wider, and Scully ground down another molar.

"It's a publicity stunt, darling. I'm modeling lingerie. See anything you like?"

"Not my lingerie style, thank you," Scully muttered, and poked Mulder with her toe to stop his head bobbing up and down.

Scully deliberately focused her eyes on the space behind Lady Jane's shoulder. "Do you know why there are four swimmers here today? Our AC informed us that one of the members of the team was missing."

"Yes, Xien Cho is missing. But you shouldn't worry, I'm sure he'll turn up somewhere."

"Who's the fourth swimmer then?"

"See the one on the end? The red speedo with the maple leaf on his arse? Robert Orr was fifth in line, and is the replacement swimmer until Xien reappears. Or not." Lady Jane shrugged. "I know all the boys. Why don't you wait until after our shared photo shoot and I'll introduce you."

"No problem," Mulder said. "We'd be happy to wait."

Scully gave up and removed her jacket, but only Lady Jane seemed to notice. "I'll get you something to drink. It's sweltering in here."

"Heidi," Lady Jane commanded, and a young Katherine Hepburn look-alike stepped to her side. She was mannish-looking with cropped hair, khaki shorts and laced boots.

"Yes, Jane?"

"Please supply my new friends with bottled water and anything else they desire. Within reason." Lady Jane winked, then parted the sea of photographers with her confident stride.

Lady Jane struck pose after provocative pose with the boyish swimmers, and it soon became obvious that her charms were having a natural but unwanted effect. The Canadian was blushing, and the broad-shouldered teen in a stars and stripes speedo suddenly folded his hands low on his torso.

As their discomfort grew, Scully was dismayed to see Lady Jane choose a new target - Mulder. As Scully watched, the buxom brunette's smouldering gaze was directed more and more frequently in Mulder's direction, and she soon began to smooch exaggerated air kisses, winking broadly at her partner where he stood beside her. Scully kept her face stony as she turned to Mulder, thinking to roll her eyes - and was surprised to see evaluation writ plain, the same expression he slid into when considering crime scene clues.

'Perhaps I'm wrong,' Scully considered, 'and it's a one-way Lady Jane-to-Mulder attraction rather than a two-step courtship dance.' It wouldn't be the first time her oblivious partner hadn't noticed an attractive female body being flung his way. Scully rubbed a nagging spot in the middle of her forehead.

The photo session wound to a close and swimmers rushed en masse to don terrycloth robes. Lady Jane looked into Scully's eyes and smirked. Scully took a deep breath to swallow down unexpected giggles that were trying to escape.

The photographers were ushered out as the model sashayed to where Scully and Mulder stood, trailing swimmers in her wake.

"Well," Lady Jane drawled, "that was lovely."

Still in her lingerie, she placed her palm on Scully's shoulder and began to stroke. Scully stepped away, confused, when the model began to trace her collarbone with a delicate finger.

Mulder smoothly stepped between them. "Lady Jane, you were planning introductions."

"Ah yes. Agents Mulder and Scully, this is Thomas Orwenyo," a solemn nod, "and Angelo Panucci."

"Ciao, FBI. Cara mia, are all police here so beautiful?" Angelo kissed Scully's hand before she had a chance to snatch it away.

Scully felt heat rush to her cheeks.

"I'm Junior McCuskey," drawled the American, and shook Mulder and Scully's hand. "And this here is a ringer from the great white north who swears he's gonna beat ole Xien's record, even if he's not here to defend himself. Ain't gonna happen."

"My name's Robert Orr, sir." Turning to Scully he continued, "But you can call me Bobby, ma'am."

Scully's eyes trailed up a slim torso to strong shoulders to a vulnerable face with wide eyes and goofy smile. He had the physique of a Greek god and the friendliness of a puppy, and Scully couldn't help but smile.

"Nice to meet you, Bobby." She held out her hand and Bobby carefully shook it. He had large hands - like Mulder's hands, she realized, and deliberately straightened her shoulders into a professional stance.

Mulder began. "Thank you for taking the time from your schedule to speak to us. Agent Scully and I are investigating the sudden disappearance of Xien Cho. Any ideas about what happened or where he might be?"

"No," intoned Orwenyo in a deep voice. "We have discussed this many times. However," his eyes cut to the nods of the others, "we have all agreed that if anyone knows anything it will be his auntie, Ahi Yi Cho. She travels with him."

"She won't say anything to us," added McCuskey. "Pretends she can't speak English, but she's a soap opera addict so we figure she must understand well enough."

"Anything else you can think of that might help us? Any particular habits of Xien's, routines, preferences?" Scully asked.

Panucci shrugged. "Xien was always drinking strange teas that his zia brewed. Maybe a tea shop?"

Scully and Mulder exchanged raised eyebrows, remembering their shared luncheon. "Thank you," Scully said. "Where can we find Ahi Yi Cho?"

Heidi suddenly stepped into the group, raised cell phone in hand. "It's Lord Mulder-Mulder, Jane," she announced in a bored voice, but Scully sensed disdain in the curl of Heidi's lip.

"Just a moment, darlings," Jane commanded, mouthing delicately, "My fiance,” as she took the phone. A negligent, elegant hand motion accompanied the words, and Mulder and Scully looked at each other. It seemed Fitz really was engaged to the super model.

McCuskey confirmed that Ahi Yi Cho was staying with the team at the Westin Grand Hotel as everyone pretended not to listen to Jane's conversation. A few moments later, Jane spoke loudly, saying, "Yes, Agent Scully is right here. Fancy that."

Jane held the phone towards Scully. "Would you care to-"

"We've got to go." Mulder grabbed Scully firmly by the elbow. "Thanks for everyone's help."

Scully smirked. "Please give Lord Mulder-Mulder my regards."

They were almost to the door when Scully heard a quick footfall behind her. They turned as Orr rushed to their side.

"Did you forget something, Bobby?" Scully smiled.

"No, that is, er, yes." Orr swallowed. "That is, Agent Scully, do you mind if I have your card? In - in case I think of anything else?"

Mulder's sleight-of-hand was too quick for Scully to follow as he thrust a small rectangle into the swimmer's hand. "Here's mine, Orr. Agent Scully and I are partners, so you contact one, you contact us both."

Bobby's face fell. "Thank you. I understand."

Scully waited until they were outside before she spoke. "That was uncalled for, Mulder. Bobby's just a kid, and you know I'm not the least bit interested."

"Everyone else seems to be interested," Mulder complained. "And for my money, Orr is a prime suspect. His motive is impeccable - a spot on the World Swimming Championship team, with all its attendant fame - as well as one other little detail, oodles of cash."

Scully shrugged, trying and failing to dismiss Mulder's point. Bobby Orr was a logical suspect, but Scully didn't have to like it. Silence chilled the air between them as Mulder steered their rental towards Ahi Yi Cho's hotel.

As they drove, Scully flicked through the dossier Skinner had given them. Included in it were some photographs taken the previous day, depicting Xien Cho posing with Jane Horsey de Horsey and the other swimmers at a cocktail party with magazine editors. The men were all wearing suits and Jane, a purple cocktail dress. Xien was a good looking man, but, unlike the others, his smile appeared half-hearted.

"Mulder, I wonder if the Chinese government could be right and Xien Cho has been kidnapped. He's the greatest swimmer they've ever had, and organized criminals may hope they'll pay a ransom."

"Admit it, you don't want to believe that cute 'kid' Robert Orr pulled a Tonya Harding. The Chinese security service weren't going to risk another defection, and they've been keeping a very careful eye on Cho. One of their agents has been watching him virtually day and night. Why do you think they let his little old auntie travel with him?"

"Poor guy," said Scully, shaking her head. "His own aunt spying on him. I wonder if he had any idea. And we know from our own people that he hasn't defected. Yet no one saw him leave the hotel."

"If Orr was responsible, he, or an associate, managed to get him out of there without detection or sign of a struggle. Another security agent took over night shift surveillance duties from his auntie and spent the entire night in a chair outside Cho's hotel room. It's like the 'Murders in the Rue Morgue'."

"Oh? An orangutan took him?" joked Scully.

"No, but it is a locked room mystery. Now presuming the agent didn't leave his post or fall asleep, there was no other exit from Cho's room."

"So not only do we have to determine where he went, but how."

xXx

Ahi Yi Cho was watching an episode of 'Sunset Beach' on television, and looked decidedly pissed off at having one of her favourite shows interrupted. She looked small and wizened sitting in a very large armchair, and her hair was shiny and dyed jet black. On her lap were wool, knitting needles and a half-made garment of indeterminate variety. A large bunch of grapes was on a side table beside her. She didn't look like a paid informer for the Chinese security service, Scully thought, but then that was the whole point.

"Mrs. Cho, we'd like to talk to you about the disappearance of your nephew," started Mulder.

"What? What?" Yi Cho barked, before turning her attention back to the television.

They had been warned by McCuskey that, like a grumpy grandparent feigning convenient deafness, Ahi Cho could understand English when she chose.

"Mrs. Cho, we don't want to waste time in finding your nephew. For all we know, he may already be dead," said Mulder.

This at least got Mrs. Cho's attention.

"He's a good boy," she said slowly. "I know he will come back and look after his old Ahi again."

"No more foreign travel and room service for you if he doesn't," remarked Scully, as Mrs. Cho spat out a pip.

"We believe he may have been murdered," said Mulder.

"Murdered! No, I do not believe he is dead. I think he has run away, but he will come back."

"Run away, or does he plan to defect?" said Scully, muting the sound on the television.

"No, he would not defect," said Mrs. Cho, sounding outraged at the idea. "He is a loyal citizen of the Republic. No, he is young and foolish, and he does not know what he is seeking. He wants one thing, and then he wants another. He used to listen to me, but now he only hears the words of others."

"Who has he been listening to?" asked Mulder.

"That man!" Mrs. Cho pointed to a purple card on the mantelpiece. "We went to the herbalist on Exeter Street to get our preparations, and it was on the counter. And he had a person in his room last night."

" 'Achieve the peace of teaching your spirit to float on the plane of bliss,' whatever that means," read Scully. "It sounds like some sort of cult. But there's no address or contact details."

"Mr. Hau at the herbalist, he knows where."

"And who did he have in his room?" asked Mulder. "Man, woman, or orangutan?"

"He had a woman in his room. He didn't tell me, but I could tell he didn't want me there. He shouted at me - his old auntie who has looked after him since he was a baby! - that he was a man now and needed his privacy. Later, I opened my door and watched a woman knock on his door." Mrs. Cho pursed her lips and shook her head disapprovingly.

"Do we know who the woman was?"

"She was like one of those women." Mrs. Cho pointed at the television screen. "Tall, brown hair and," tapping her own, "a big chest."

"Was it this woman?" asked Scully, showing her the photograph of Jane Horsey de Horsey at the reception.

Mrs. Cho nodded. "Yes, she is like the women on television."

"Well, well," said Mulder. He turned to Scully, "She's staying in the penthouse upstairs."

"Why don't I go to talk to her, while you go and check up on the herbalist," said Scully firmly, deciding she really didn't want Mulder to see Lady Jane twice in one day.

xXx

When Scully knocked on the door of the penthouse suite, it was opened by Lady Jane's personal assistant. Scully brushed past her and into the opulent living area of the rooms. The floor was covered with empty boxes, half unpacked bags bearing expensive brand names, and two freestanding rails of clothes, both of which had been pushed against a wall.

"Shopping?" asked Scully, as Heidi removed three coats from a chair so she could sit down.

The glum assistant gave a pursed-lipped smile. "Lady Jane has no need to shop, and she likes to live frugally. When we arrive in a new city, I merely make some phone calls and boutiques are only too happy to supply free samples. She is a walking advertisement for their wares."

"Where is she at present? Collecting more freebies?"

Heidi replied stiffly. "She's just gone to the bathroom to freshen up. Lady Jane has had a very fatiguing day."

As she spoke, Lady Jane returned to the room, looking quite the opposite of tired.

"Better now?" Heidi asked softly.

"I'm much more energized!" declared Jane brightly, as she wiped her nose hastily with a tissue. "In fact, a night on the town and a few drinks this evening would be just the ticket after all, Heidi. Perhaps you would like to join us, Agent Scully?"

"This isn't a social visit, Lady Jane. I'm here to ask you a few questions about the disappearance of Xien Cho."

"Xien Cho," repeated Lady Jane skittishly, as though she had never heard the name before. She jumped out of the chair, and then sat back down again. "I like your suit, Agent Scully. Black's a very good colour on you."

"That's fortunate, as I wear a lot of it," said Scully dryly. "If you can manage to sit still for a few minutes, Lady Jane, you can tell me why you didn't inform us you were with Xien Cho in his hotel room last night?"

"Were you?" asked Heidi, sharply.

"Ah, you know about that?" said Jane looking slightly sheepish.

"Concealing vital information not only makes you an obstruction to our investigation, but also a suspect."

"Fine!" Lady Jane raised her hands in mock supplication for mercy. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want any bad publicity in the newspapers."

"I thought you thrived on the attention, and it seems you're no stranger to bad publicity. I checked your records, Lady Jane, before coming up here, and I know you were cautioned by the Metropolitan Police in London for possession of a Class A drug last year."

"Yes! But that was the old me." Jane winked, "Well, so my publicist says, at any rate. But since I got my contract as the face of Esme Binoche, I've had to keep my nose clean - so to speak. I can have a good time, as long as I look beautiful and I don't make a disgrace of myself publicly."

"So what were you doing with Mr. Xien Cho?"

"Agent Scully, let me confide in you. As hard as it may be for you to believe, I'm not just a world famous fashion model with a lucrative contract with a cosmetics company; I'm a woman too!"

"And?"

"I travel the world, often seeing more of the airports than the cities I visit. Sometimes I get lonely all on my own in a hotel room with no human contact - apart from you Heidi, darling," she added condescendingly. "When I saw Xien Cho yesterday, I felt a kind of connection to him and I resolved to get to know him a bit better. I asked if he was free last night, and we arranged a private tete-a-tete over dinner in his room.

"I arrived shortly before eight o'clock, but I could feel something wasn't right. He seemed quite reserved, but that didn't surprise me, as most men are shy with me at first. For some reason, I always have to make the first move."

"Lord Mulder-Mulder doesn't mind you 'making a move'?" asked Scully, not bothering to conceal her disapproval. Fitz had been so friendly and so disarmingly like Mulder in feature, that she found herself feeling slightly annoyed at his being cheated on.

"Look, if you're to understand anything about Fitz and me, you have to know we don't believe in ownership. I'm not prepared to give up my career to spend day and night by his side at the embassy, and as we spend a great deal of our time apart, I have to make my own arrangements when I want a good fuck."

"I see," said Scully, trying not to sound as prim as she felt. "And so you and Xien Cho - ?"

"Regrettably, no. We had dinner in his room and things started well enough. We talked, and I flirted, but then he seemed to withdraw into himself, and he hardly seemed to notice me." Jane broke off, as though lost in reverie at a painful memory. "Eventually he said he wanted an early night! Not many men would turn down the opportunity to be with me. Between you and me, Agent Scully, I think Xien Cho must be gay."

"Oh surely not, Jane. I don't doubt your ability to turn any man," said a voice from behind Scully. "Unless your charms are slipping, old thing."

"Fitz! Darling!" cried Jane. "You came."

"How could I not, old girl?" Fitz Mulder-Mulder was standing in the doorway, looking very pleased with himself. "And what luck to find the lovely Agent Scully with you."

At that and despite herself, Scully could not help but feel a very little bit pleased.

xXx

"Robert Orr, huh," Mulder said to nobody as he drove from the Aquatic Centre to D.C.'s Chinatown. At first he'd felt almost sorry for the young man. A Canadian family that named their son Bobby Orr was like an American family naming their kid Michael Jordan. At least the poor guy was swimming in water instead of skating on it. But as soon as Mr. Orr began turning on the "Aw, gawrsh, ma'am" charm to Scully all pity had fled.

It was late afternoon and the grey D.C. skies had become the grey, drizzling D.C. skies. With the address of the herbalist shop taped to the dashboard, Mulder drove the bureau car slowly down H Street Northwest in the city's Chinatown district. Even though the neighbourhood had shrunk to almost nothing over the years, the most authentic Asian restaurants and some businesses were still there.

Navigating the narrow streets, Mulder flashed back to a dim sum lunch he and Scully had once shared in Chinatown, a short time after her cancer went into remission. He had been earnest in his attention, trying to find the words to let her know he wanted to - wanted to - he still couldn't find the words. She had displayed a hopeful look on her face through the meal, as though she expected him to say - something. That look had faded as he said goodbye to her at her door.

Honk! A blaring car horn and screeching tires shook him from his reverie and he looked out the driver's side window. Mulder was no longer on H Street, but on a tiny side street in front of a small row of shabby stores. "How did that happen?" he wondered out loud, checking the address on the card from "Auntie." When he looked out the window again he saw a small storefront with the words "Ancient Way Medicines" written in English under Chinese lettering on the door. Mulder pulled into the vacant spot, buttoned his overcoat against the rain, and sprinted across the street.

A tiny bell rang as Mulder closed the door to the small shop. Tidy shelves full of boxes, tins, and jars lined the walls and soft classical music mixed with the jasmine incense to create a new age aura.

"Hello? Anybody here?" he called, looking over a selection of tea pots, infusers, and pamphlets near the cash register. "I'm looking for a Mr. Hau."

"Two is the number of cooperation," said a clear voice behind him. Mulder turned and saw a middle-aged Asian man just a bit shorter than himself wearing a chambray shirt and black jeans. "It represents balance between two poles, yin and yang, man and woman." He smiled. "I'm Paul Hau." He looked questioningly at Mulder. "Let me guess - F.D.A.? It was Mrs. Zhang who advertised the 'herbal Vioxx.'"

"No, I've got three other letters - F.B.I.," Mulder said as he produced his badge.

"Three." Paul looked at the I.D. "Now, three allows all things to be possible. It means luck and success. What's your quest, Mr. Mulder?"

"Well, for the moment, my quest is information about a customer of yours who's disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Paul walked behind the counter and began scanning the shelves. "I don't think I've sold any of that lately. People have been wanting to stay put these days."

"Xien Cho, the Chinese world champion swimmer," Mulder said as he produced a picture of the young man. "He's been missing for almost twenty four hours now and his government is very interested in everyone he had been in contact with prior to his disappearance. He came to your shop yesterday for some - preparations."

Paul looked through his lower bifocal lens and frowned. "Sad, really, what pulling a person into a place they weren't meant to occupy can do to the soul. It begins to look for any escape to restore harmony. If the will is strong enough, it might leave and never return."

"Was Mr. Cho being forced into something?"

"Escape can come in many forms," Paul said as he began removing small jars and a mortar and pestle from a cabinet. "It may be an activity, a person, a destination. Even death is an escape."

Mulder felt his last nerve beginning to fray. "Mr. Hau, I am not here for a philosophy lesson. I am here to ascertain if Mr. Cho was in your shop yesterday to buy herbal preparations."

Paul looked up from his work and smiled. "Well, you didn't ask that. Yes, Cho was here. He's come in several times the past week. He bought herb teas for his aunt and also took some books and pamphlets." He gestured to a display.

"Did he say anything to you to make you believe he might be thinking of defecting or that he might be afraid?" Mulder began shuffling through the books and cards.

"He said what he really wanted was a potion to make his auntie sleep for a year. But those mushrooms are just too expensive these days."

Something caught Mulder's eye. A pile of purple pamphlets with the slogan, "Achieve the peace of teaching your spirit to float on the plane of bliss." He opened it to see the smiling face of one Sky Turner, the bald-headed, blue-eyed guru who had been on every talk show from Oprah to Leno. "Is Sky Turner a customer of yours, Mr. Hau?"

"Gracious, no!" boomed the herbalist as he scraped some fragrant grasses into a granite bowl. "Mr. Turner has his own personal herbalist, and a very attractive one at that. One of his devotees brings me the literature. There," he pronounced over the concoction before he began grinding away.

"A card with this slogan was found in Cho's hotel room today. Do you know if he had any contact with Turner?"

"Afraid not. But I can tell you that the young man was quite vexed." He looked up at Mulder. "Soul transmigration is very common in some cultures, you know. Most Westerners think it can't happen to them, so it doesn't. Here you are, Mr. Mulder," he said as he poured the preparation into a small paper sack.

Mulder began scanning the framed diplomas and certifications on the wall. "B.S. in chemistry from Penn, Ph. D. Pharmacy from Auburn. Mr. Hau, you're a pharmacist."

The herbalist sighed. "Alas, my misspent youth. A young man will run thither and yon, trying to disprove the beliefs of his father. Going to great lengths to denigrate generations of faith. Then one day," he leaned closer to the agent, "he realizes his ancestors were right. That's when real learning begins, Mr. Mulder." He pushed the sack across the counter. "Don't worry. The first one's always free."

"I didn't-" Extreme possibilities, a voice whispered to him as he scanned the Chinese characters on the label. "What is it?"

"I call it Nine Journeys. Nine stands for the final state of completion, ultimate fulfillment. It's more a prayer than a potion, I suppose. But it is very tasty with lox and bagels." Mr. Hau extended his hand. "I will keep an eye out for any information on Cho, Mr. Mulder. He is a sad young man who seeks release. I fear it may be easy for someone to take advantage of him."

Mulder's cell phone rang before he could reply.

xXx

Scully unbuttoned her suit jacket and settled down on the plush couch in Lady Jane's suite, a martini in one hand. Fitz had declared the American work day was "just too damned long" and began mixing drinks at 5:00 pm sharp. The afternoon tea's salad and tiny sandwiches were long digested and her empty stomach cautioned Scully against drinking, but one martini wouldn't hurt, right? Also, getting Fitz and Lady Jane a little "loosened up" might unfurl their tongues and get her more information on the missing Cho.

Lady Jane took a Manhattan from her fiance's hand and strode to the couch, brushing Scully's knee with her own as she sat down. "Now that's even better," she purred after knocking back a generous swig of the concoction. Her brilliant smile and sparkling eyes gave her a look that didn't need to be airbrushed and most surely got her anywhere she wanted to go. "It must be terribly, terribly fascinating to be a real secret agent," she said, "and to work with such a brilliant, attractive man."

Scully demurred and looked at her glass. "F.B.I. agent - it's a lot of paperwork, really. And Mulder can be-"

"Cantankerous! Aggravating!" cut in Fitz, who was walking toward them with his own drink, a greenish concoction in a small glass. "Not changed a bit in over twenty years, I dare say." He sat on Scully's other side, and the agent began to feel a bit warm.

"Dearest, what's 'cantankerous' and 'aggravating' to one person can be challenging and fascinating to another," Lady Jane said, as she gazed at Scully. "Is he, Dana? Is he challenging?"

"He can be," Scully answered honestly, looking over to Fitz. "But he is brilliant. And determined."

"More like head-strong," Fitz declared. "Always going against the grain, no capacity for fun." He leaned into Scully a bit. "You like to have fun, don't you, Dana?"

Scully's heart suddenly began to thump and frowning, she pulled back from Fitz's intruding torso, sliding out of her seat and standing in one fluid motion. She buttoned her suit jacket, smoothed her skirt, and wished for a suit of armour.

Fitz stood as well. "Leaving so soon, Dana?"

"I must -" Scully's cell phone rang, and she felt herself calm as she listened to Mulder's voice.

"My dear?" Jane murmured.

"There's been a change in the case. Mulder's coming to the hotel to pick me up." She started to edge towards the door. "I'm meeting him in the lobby."

Fitz stepped around Scully and blocked the door. "Dana, I must insist, as a personal favour, that you accept this invitation."

Scully took the stiff card he was offering her. A coat of arms, with a passant dog above the shield, shared the cover with an ornately printed title: British Embassy Ball - with the location and date in small cursive, RSVP.

"If the case is finished and we have time - if," Scully held up the invitation, "Agent Mulder and I might possibly be able to pop in for a few minutes."

"Fox? You see him every day. Why not attend as my special guest?" Fitz urged.

"Yes, please do," Jane added.

"I won't attend without Agent Mulder," Scully stated firmly.

Fitz's smile slipped for a second, then a wry smirk took its place. "Very well, Dana. Mamma will be pleased that I'm inviting my cousin and all. A mark in her good books is not to be sneezed at."

Minutes later, Scully grinned as Mulder pulled into the parking area outside the lobby. Stepping outside to meet him, Scully started chuckling to herself. Mulder had never before seemed so stable and predictable as when compared to his slightly lecherous cousin. A look of stunned happiness wreathed Mulder's face at her welcoming smile. Scully resolved to put that look on his face more often.

"Good to see you, Mulder."

"'See' being the operative word - since the rest of the Olympic team has suddenly disappeared along with Cho."

"So you said. What do you think it is? Kidnapping, terrorist attack, publicity stunt?"

Mulder patted his coat pocket as he pulled away. "According to an interview I just had with the herbalist, it's possible that the entire team could just, uh, disappear through some kind of potion. Or maybe they flew off in their bliss plane."

Scully shook her head as she re-examined the purple pamphlet. "Wonder what the fare on a bliss plane is? I'm betting the price is pretty high."

"Only one way to find out. We're meeting with Sky Turner in half an hour, at his compound."

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