The X-Files is of course the property of Chris Carter and FOX.

This piece of fanfiction is set after the episode "Field Trip."

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Dana Scully sat down and spread some sheets of paper over the reverse side of Fox Mulder's desk. "I've prepared my report of the case," she said, "though I don't see how useful it will be, since we spent more time hallucinating than investigating."

"Huh." Mulder let a second pass before speaking. "You know, Scully, when I was hallucinating I dreamed that you saved us from the fungus."

She spared him a questioning glance before looking back at the papers. "I did?"

"Uh-huh. You see, I was dreaming about UFOs and alien abduction, but when I tried to explain it to you, you pointed out that nothing that was happening made any sense. You . . ."—he chuckled—"well, my hallucination of you, said that I was hallucinating because of a giant fungal organism that was digesting me just like it did the Schiffs. That's how I knew it wasn't real, and how I managed to escape. I put my hand up out of the ground, and Skinner found us." He chuckled again. "I guess my subconscious uses you when it wants to tell me something rational."

"You know, that's interesting, Mulder," Scully mused after a moment, "because in my hallucination it was you that saved our lives."

"Me?"

"Yes, you . . ." She paused to gather her thoughts, then went on. "I experienced a false awakening in which I believed that we had escaped from the fungal organism. I then hallucinated that you realized it was not the real world, and that's when Skinner rescued us." She smiled in amusement. "Although you had a strange way of demonstrating your theory. You—"

Mulder had been staring straight ahead with lips pressed tight, but suddenly he spoke. "I shot Skinner."

Scully looked up. "That's right. How could you have guessed . . . ?"

"I didn't guess." He stood up and walked over to the filing cabinets, mind racing. "That's what happened in my dream too."

His partner had turned around to face him, amazed. "Then we experienced the same sequence of events in our hallucinations?"

"Wait, Scully, what if it,"—Mulder was in his element now, pacing back and forth and gesticulating with the paper clip in his right hand—"what if it wasn't a coincidence? What if the hallucinogenic compounds in the fungus stimulated some kind of psychic connection between us?"

Scully raised her eyebrows. "Telepathy."

"Why not?" His words were rushed, excited. "There have been reports of telepathic communication for centuries, sometimes in connection with the use of hallucinogenic drugs in religious rituals. What if those compounds can somehow restore dormant telepathic communication in humans on a subconscious level? Think about it, Scully."

The smile she gave him was equal parts kindness and skepticism. "I think it's extremely unlikely."

"Then how do you explain it? How can two separate people have had the same hallucination?"

"Well, I—" She hesitated briefly, then went on with conviction. "Actually, Mulder, it's probably exactly what you said before. You and I have worked together for six years, and we know each other so well that either of us can subconsciously predict how the other will react in any given situation. You said before that your subconscious used me to give you a rational explanation. Well, my subconscious must have used you to make a drastic leap of intuition."

"So you think that the reason we had the same hallucination is just because we know each other so well that your subconscious hallucination of me did the same thing as the real me."

"Yes."

Mulder sighed. "You say that is the simplest, most logical explanation."

"Yes. And you are unsatisfied with it."

"Completely."

"And," Scully continued in the same tone, "you are going to put that paper clip in your mouth while you think of another way to support your argument."

Mulder arrested the upward motion of his hand, looked agape at his partner, and then stuck the paper clip into his pocket and laughed. "You got me," he admitted, spreading his hands in mock defeat.

Scully smiled and returned her attention to her papers. Mulder selected a file of interest and returned to his desk to read over it, but halfway through the first page he spoke again.

"Scully?"

"Hmm?"

"Even if it was just a hallucination, I'm glad you were there for me."

And all the skepticism was gone as she met his eyes. "Me too."