Samantha Spade POV:

Malone Residence

February 4, 2004

6:30 a.m.

I feel Jack's lips on my head as he slips out of bed. "Hmmm?" I moan, missing the warm comfort of his body. My eyes open and I remember where I am. "What time is it?"

"I've got work and you should be getting up soon too."

"I don't want to go in," I groan.

"And I do?" he laughs softly. "Come on." He heads into the shower and I so desperately want to join him, but it's not right. I might be his 'wife' but I'm also not his wife. I let out a soft sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

"Jack," I knock briefly on the bathroom door and open it slightly. "Maybe I could use a vacation from this place for a few days."

"A vacation?" he repeats. "You want to go to the beach, a cruise---what'd you have in mind?"

"We can't afford anything like that."

"If you work we can."

"Ouch," I answer, and he pulls back the shower curtain slightly, just enough so I can see his head. "Listen, I just think things would be easier if I had some time to myself for a few days, to sort things out."

"You're starting to sound like one my agents," he teases. "Take whatever time off from work you want. You can still get the girls to and from school---right?"

"Yeah," I nod, glad I remember where they attend.

I head out of the bathroom, glancing around for a fresh change of clothes. "She needs a new wardrobe," I mutter, pulling out something to wear from the closet.

I stare at the full-length mirror on the door and eye myself as I strip down and change. What I would do to be a part of Jack's family---as myself- --and be able to have a child of our own. I don't mind being a mother to the girls, but I'm not their biological mother---even if they believe I am. Besides, it's not fair to Maria. As much as I dislike her, and she me, I couldn't take her children away from her.

I pull on my clothes and head into the kitchen to see the girls eating breakfast at the table. I grab the phone and hit redial, thankful no one else used the mainline yesterday.

After calling in sick, again, I take the girls into school and make my way back to the house. I putter around, looking through closets, cabinets, and drawers to see where everything is located.

"Samantha!" I hear a loud pounding against the door and realize it must be Maria.

I head on over, opening the door to see my image staring back at me.

"Come in," I offer, watching as she storms past me and onto the sofa in one big huff.

"I don't know what you did, but you better fix this!"

"Do you think I have any idea what's going on?" I counter.

"You work for the government; you must have some idea of what this is."

"I work for the Missing Persons Unit," I answer. "Actually you do now."

"No," she shakes her head with wide eyes. "I'm on a temporary leave of absence. Jack things it's some sort of fallout from the shooting," she shrugs, obviously confused. "You have to help me." Her voice sounds as though she's begging and it's odd to hear her words come from 'my' lips.

"Even if I could," I shrug with a wry smile, "maybe I like this second offering."

"It's not your family," she eyes me angrily. "You can't keep me from my girls."

"They'll lock you away if you talk such nonsense," I tell her. "Besides, haven't you ever wished you could start all over?"

"Yes, but that's beside the point." Her teeth are clenched in anger.

"I have one idea, but you're not going to like it."

"Go on," she urges me, scooting closer to hear me out.

*********

Maria Malone POV:

Malone Residence

February 4, 2004

9:35 a.m.

I sit beside the 'real' Samantha, looking her over before picking up the phone.

"I need the number," I tell her. She grabs the phone from my grasp, dialing it quickly.

"Ask for the X-Files Division, an Agent Fox Mulder," she reminds me.

"Right," I nod. After a few transfers, I'm finally put through to the basement office.

"Agent Doggett."

"This is Special Agent Samantha Spade from the New York Field Office. I'm looking for an Agent Mulder," I answer. I hate saying 'her' name from my lips, but what other choice do I have? She told me I needed to identify myself, to make sure this case takes priority.

"He's retired. Is there something I can do for you?" he questions.

"Is your department the X-Files?"

"Yes," he answers professionally. "Is there a case in New York that needs my attention?"

"You could say that," I whisper. Her eyes stare at me, reminding me to tell him what she's said. "We have a situation on our hands and we need some expert advice."

"I'm not Dear Abby," he chuckles.

"It's more in your field, but I'd rather not discuss it over the phone."

"My partner and I will meet with you first thing tomorrow morning," he tells me, and I give him my home address. I hang up the phone as she glances over at me.

"That wasn't too hard," I muse.

"No, but that doesn't mean they'll be able to reverse whatever it is that's transpired," she points out. "Listen, Maria," she pauses obviously as uncomfortable as I am, "I'm sorry about everything."

"Yeah," I laugh, shaking my head. "You fucked my husband, and now you want to be friends?"

"I just want things to go smoothly," she answers with a slight frown. "I haven't told Jack yet--"

"Me either. He'd never believe it," I state solemnly. "I should go." I stand up, having nowhere really to be, but not wanting to be in this house any longer, even if it is my own. What if the effects of whatever happened aren't reversible? What if I am forever locked out of my children's lives?

I head for the door, glancing back at the image of myself on the sofa, and Samantha's eyes staring back at me. I shut the front door and head for the car with a sigh of relief.

I can't stand that woman, and to think I've traded lives with her! I'd rather be Jack then Samantha. I shake my head in disgust. There's nothing I can do about it. I head back for my new home, having nowhere else to go. What does Samantha do when she's normally not at work?

I step through the front door, eyeing the apartment. Maybe she needs a pet of some kind? If things went back to the way they were, then she wouldn't be lonely and have to steal my husband. I head on over towards the refrigerator, glancing through to find something to eat for lunch. Once again, there's nothing new from last night.

I grab the phone and reluctantly dial my home number to speak with Samantha.

"Hello?" her voice answers, and I swear it's me on the other line.

"Samantha," I answer, "I've got a problem."

"What is it, Maria?" she let's out a slightly annoyed sigh.

"You don't have any food in the fridge, I don't see any money lying around and your bank card won't do me any good without a code."

"Get a job!" she jokes and I roll my eyes, slightly perturbed. How can she be happy at a time like this? Is it because she's making a mockery of 'my' family? "You need cash," she repeats. "Go into my bedroom and in the third drawer down there's a small container. It should be enough until we get things settled."

"Thank you," I respond and hang up the phone rather abruptly.

I head into the bedroom, open the third drawer and see the sleep attire inside. "She wears this?" I question aloud, shaking my head with a laugh. "Must be nice." I notice a box stuffed in the back and pull it out. It reveals some cash for a rainy day.