Scully was in awe with the P-Works compound. She knew that they had received some serious funding, but this was truly amazing. Nestled in a small valley that had probably been completely barren of any construction only a decade previously, P-Works rose out of the earth like a gargantuan rounded crystal. Pale silver glass that cast the sheen of the sun into a bright arc around the grounds encased the upper levels of the building in a graceful curve, reminiscent of the Guggenheim museum in New York, and the lower portion was totally open and designed with a masterful attention to Zen-like details.

They had passed the security checkpoint back down a narrow tree-lined road that could have easily led to a winery, but instead they found themselves in the entrance of this futuristic set of offices. As they looked around the wide, white reception area, hoping to see some sort of receptionist or desk, a stunningly gorgeous woman emerged from an inner door and approached them. Just as the office looked like it was out of the pages of a postmodern design magazine, she looked like she was out of Vogue, with her long legs, tumbling chestnut hair, and wide turquoise eyes. No one else could have pulled off looking as natural in this setting as she did.

She extended a long graceful arm towards Mulder. "Security alerted me that you were here. I'm Paloma Laurence, director of public relations here."

"Agents Mulder and Scully," Scully answered, trying not to let herself feel at all territorial or self-conscious when the woman's eyes raked over Mulder's frame flirtatiously. To his credit, he either didn't register it or made a good effort to act oblivious, both which pleased her.

"We weren't expecting you," she said to Scully, "but of course we're happy to cooperate in any way possible to see justice done for Geoff and Marie. And to find their poor babies."

"We'd like to talk to Dr. Mitfuhlend, or get his home address if he's not here."

"Oh, he's here," she answered immediately. "The team took yesterday off but we're all back today. I'm not sure if you're aware of what goes on here, but it's very difficult to lose much time. We have bereavement counselors in though, should anyone need them." She saw their expressions. "Geoff would have wanted it this way," she assured them. "He wouldn't want us to lose even more than we already have."

"If we may. . .?" Mulder asked, gesturing to the hall from where she'd emerged, but she moved to block his path in one quick fluid movement.

"I'm afraid not," she said in a regretful tone. "They work in a completely sterile environment, and have a very specific decontamination process that we'd rather not put you through, not to mention our work is quite confidential." She added in a honeyed tone, "I'm sure you understand."

"Can you give him a call?"

"Of course!" she answered perkily. "And I'll just direct you into our boardroom where you can have your chat."

'Chat' isn't the word Scully had in mind for when they talked to him, but at least Ms. Laurence would retrieve him for them. She could easily imagine her saying something like "I'm sorry, but our work is far too important to spare Larry for even a few minutes to answer any of your little questions," but decided that was probably being uncharitable. That tended to happen when other women expressed any interest in her partner, though. . . She smirked to herself. Now, at least, she had justification for it. He really was hers.

They were shown to a large rounded room that sat a story above the grounds, like a large bubble or the prow of a spaceship, and looked out over the rest of the valley. "Speaking of the Jetson's. . ." Mulder said in her ear as Ms. Laurence left, and Scully gave him a perfunctory half-smile, but couldn't summon the will to make it look sincere. Though she was personally thrilled to be here and talk to a member of a team working on such historic research, she couldn't help but feel anxious, knowing that the Love children were still out there. Sure, this was their only lead so she could partially justify it, but it was frustrating that they didn't have anything more tangible.

Mulder sensed it and came around to stand next to her at the window. "You okay?" he asked in a low voice, putting his hand over hers on the sill and sweeping his thumb across the top.

"Just. . .really feeling the ticking clock," she answered immediately.

Mulder nodded thoughtfully, and Scully could have adequately left him with that, but since they'd started sleeping together, an interesting personal shift had happened. She'd begun to feel the opposite compulsions than she'd at the beginning of their partnership, so rather than hide her feelings with an "I'm fine," she wanted to share them with him. Though she had trusted him with her life for years, it took that final barrier to fall before she really, truly, and comfortably trusted him with her soul.

"And. . ." she went on, "It somehow feels wrong that I'm getting such personal satisfaction out of this interview, when my primary concern should be the kids."

"This is the only lead we have, Scully. We have to follow it up," Mulder told her. "And the kids are your primary concern, that much it obvious. You're being too hard on yourself."

She couldn't help but give a small—but this time genuine—smile at that, "Hmm, what's it like to have a partner who does that?" she asked, referring to the many, many times Mulder took upon himself an enormous burden of guilt or self-recrimination.

Mulder gave her a 'yeah, yeah, yeah,' look, and started to reply, when suddenly a reedy, nasal voice came from behind them, "Agents Mulder and Scully?"

Mulder's hand flew away from Scully's and they both turned to see Larry Mitfuhlend standing in the doorway.

Whatever Scully had expected of the guy so vilified by Hans Zydek, this was not it. Dr. Mitfuhlend was only an inch or so taller than she herself, and with an even slighter built. He had bad posture, flat, greased-down brown hair, thick glasses, a lopsided graying mustache, and a very weak chin. In essence, he looked like someone who'd suffered the unkindness of the social world, and had thrown himself into science instead. Scully had seen many of this type in med school, and she always viewed them with a mixture of pity and annoyance. Dr. Mitfuhlend was bringing out that same feeling now, though it was somewhat mitigated by the knowledge that he was probably one of the greatest scientists of their generation—or many, many generations. So, she supposed she should ignore his odd appearance.

Plus, what she had seen many times in the iFBI/i was that one should never, ever underestimate a person.

"Dr. Mitfuhlend?" Mulder asked, and Scully could tell that he was slightly surprised as well.

"That's right," he answered, standing there uncertainly.

"Do you mind if we all have a seat?" Her partner indicated to the long table, and the scientist bobbed his head up and down and echoed Mulder's gesture.

"Do—do you have any new information about who killed Geoff and Marie?" he asked anxiously, peering back and forth between the two of them. Scully couldn't tell if he was nervous because he was guilty, or just socially awkward.

"Aren't you worried about the kids, too?" she asked pointedly, and he flushed.

"Of course—of course. But I'd have heard if you found them, right?"

"We can't discuss an ongoing case," Mulder said, replying to the scientist's first question.

"Okay, but have you talked to Hans Zydek? He's suing us, you know," Mitfuhlend told them, in the voice of a petulant five-year-old. "He blames me for P-works' progress in, well, are you aware of what we do?"

"We are," Scully answered. "Replacement Transference."

"Are you to blame?" Mulder asked bluntly, as Dr. Mitfuhlend was nodding at Scully.

"No!" the scientist protested in a high-pitched whine. "He thinks I just cut and run for the money. It had nothing to do with money."

"What were your motivations, then?" Scully wanted to know. "What made you leave your partner of years and join up with a relative stranger?"

Dr. Mitfuhlend sighed then opened his mouth, but shut it again, looking stressed.

"Okay, here's one insight into our investigation, Doctor," Mulder said, leaning across the table. "We have talked to Dr. Zydek, and he made a pretty compelling case for why you had a motive to kill Dr. Love. The trifecta: money, power, and glory. With Dr. Love out of the way, you stand to get it all."

"No," the scientist said again, more stridently. "I could never, ever hurt him. Nor his wife and that young girl! And, and his children were like my nieces and nephews. I wouldn't. . .I couldn't do that. . ."

"Where were you that night, then?" Mulder pressed. "Can anyone confirm your whereabouts?"

"Yes—I was on my boat at the Redwood City Marina. The Jolly Roger. I was alone, but you can check the logs, okay?"

"We will," Mulder assured him.

"You brought up Dr. Zydek—do you believe he's responsible?" Scully interjected, wanting to go back to that.

The scientist gnawed on his lip, and his eyes darted back and forth between the two of them for several moments before he responded. "The thing is, he was always so cold and detached. I mean most of us are somewhat like that, at this level of our profession, but he was at the extreme, practically a robot. So, maybe. Except that he'd never get his hands dirty himself, he'd hire someone to do it. "

Mulder shot a skeptical glance towards Scully, and she could easily interpret it. It was Mulder's opinion that this was no pro or hitman. The state of the bodies indicated extreme and personal rage—the opposite of a detached 'robot' or a meticulous pro.

"But Geoff Love wasn't like that, was he? He wasn't a 'robot.'" Mulder asked, and Scully sensed a sort of knowing tone in his voice. "Geoff had a life; somehow, he made it work, he managed to have it all. . ."

"He did," Dr. Mitfuhlend acknowledged, and something passed over his face as well. "Family was everything to him. He was the sort of genius, though, that he could look at things and see them exactly how they were, and know exactly what was needed to make them work. It would take him one hour to finish a project that it would take others a week to tackle. So he could afford to make time for his wife and kids. I can only imagine what he could accomplish if he didn't make his family such a priority, though. Or even if he didn't have one at all."

"Did you see them as getting in the way, then?" Scully immediately asked. "You wanted to get rid of the family, and maybe Geoff died to protect them."

Mitfuhlend reeled backwards as if she had assaulted him, and looked absolutely horrified. "I told you, I'd never hurt his family, and my alibi will prove that I had nothing to do with this," he repeated shakily, his mustache quivering. "His compassion is what convinced me to come to P-Works in the first place, okay? He was the diametric opposite of Hans; he respected me as a scientist and a partner, rather than some assistant. After just an hour talking to him, I knew that I would be a valued member of the team, while with Hans I was still a lackey after years. And it's not just that. He. . ." But he lightly closed his eyes and gave a small shake of the head, and didn't go on.

"Well don't stop there," Mulder told him. "What else? What is it that you don't want to tell us?"

"Were you attracted to him?" Scully suggested, stepping out on a limb.

Mitfuhlend's eyes flew open at that. "Not in the way your tone is suggesting," he answered, glaring at her reproachfully. "I had the utmost professional and personal admiration for him. P-Works was driven by his vision, and I don't know if we can survive without him. He was P-Works."

"And how close was he to this vision?" Mulder asked, getting to the heart of the issue: was P-Works closing in on a scientific way to teleport?

"Tragically not close enough for him to get any of the credit he deserves," the scientist said thickly, his voice wracked with seemingly-genuine grief. "He was destined to be one of the greatest names in history, but now he's just another nameless homicide victim. . .and now that we've lost his driving energy, who knows if we'll get there without him at all?"

"How many years away from a potential real break-through are you?" Scully wanted to know, and he gave her a doleful look.

"With Geoff, ten—fifteen years, maybe. But without him, who knows? A very long time, perhaps never. At least not in our lifetimes."

"You don't think Zydek is capable?" Scully asked.

"Like I said, he's a human robot. That kind of mind works exceptionally well in many scientific areas, but quantum mechanics requires creativity, flexibility, and a skewed way of seeing the universe. Geoff had all that, but Hans doesn't. It was never a question in my mind that P-Works would easily outpace Zydeknologie."

Mulder nodded slowly, seeming to take things in. Then: "By the way, what does the P in P-Works stand for?" he asked, almost as a casual aside, though Scully could tell he really wanted to know. She couldn't guess why, though. And even more bizarre was Mitfuhlend's reaction.

He sort of paled and opened and closed his mouth before stuttering, "Ph-physics. It stands for physics."

"Hm," Mulder grunted, making it clear through his scrutinizing look that he didn't buy it for one second. Scully agreed completely that Mitfuhlend was being untruthful, but why would he lie about such a thing?

"Look, I really need to get back to work. Now it's down to me to keep things going, so I can't stay away for long." He made to rise, but with a short shake of Mulder's head, he sat back down again.

"You haven't told us anything to help us out," he pointed out.

"We'd like to leave with more than we had before we made the commute all the way down here," Scully added. "The Love children's lives are at stake."

"I don't think I can give you any more," Mitfuhlend protested plaintively. "I already told you everything I know: the only one I can think who'd want to hurt him is Hans. Geoff didn't have any other enemies in the world."

Mulder turned from Mitfuhlend and made a show of asking Scully, "D'you believe that he's told us everything he knows?" Scully played along, and raised her eyebrows to show her skepticism.

Mulder turned back to Mitfuhlend. "There's something you're not telling us, something to do with your partnership with Love. And I don't know why you're hiding it, or whom you're protecting, but if you really do care about finding Geoff Love's killers, or having a chance to save his kids, you'd share it."

Mitfuhlend pursed his lips and stared stubbornly across the room, no longer making eye contact. "I've told you everything I can think of that could help out this case," he repeated stubbornly.

"That could help out this case," Scully quoted back to him. "So you're actually saying that what you're withholding has no bearing on the case, in your opinion," she intuited, and the scientist's eyes narrowed.

"Why don't you let us decide if it does that," Mulder urged. "Just tell us what you're thinking."

But Scully could see that it was no good. Mitfuhlend was a wall of silence; something had made him gain the courage he'd seemed to lack when they'd first met, and clam up. But why? She cast a frustrated look towards Mulder, and she could tell by his hardened expression that he felt the same way.

"Okay, Dr. Mitfuhlend," he finally said. "This is clearly not a productive use of any of our time. Know though, that we'll mark you as uncooperative, and if it looks like you've impeded the investigation in any way, we won't hesitate to charge you with obstruction of justice."

A small chill chased Scully's feelings of frustration; she secretly loved when Mulder became so decisive and authoritarian like that.

Dr. Mitfuhlend stood up from the table and Scully could see that despite his unyielding attitude, his hands were trembling. "I told you everything I can think of," he said in an insistent but nearly pleading voice, before turning towards the door.

"I think we all know that that's not true," Mulder replied after him, and at that the scientist picked up his pace to escape the room.

"Dammit Scully," Mulder said, and Scully nodded in agreement. They sat in silence for a moment, both turning over the brief and bizarre interview in their minds, trying to make sense of it.

"Mulder?" Scully finally asked, breaking the silence, and he turned towards her. "How did you know to ask Dr. Mitfuhlend about the P in P-Works? You certainly got a response from him, but what made you curious?"

"If the company is so personal for Love, and he had such 'vision,' then it made sense that the name would have significance. After all, just a 'p' is pretty ambiguous. I can't believe that it stands for the obvious 'physics,' which is too generic. And I guess from his reaction, I cut close to the quick of something."

Scully nodded. "But what. . ."

"That's the question. And I don't believe that the answer to that has nothing to do with this case, as Mitfuhlend insinuates. The circumstances of their deaths and disappearances are too bizarre—if there's a secret surrounding Geoff (and Mitfuhlend's obvious loyalty suggests it is Geoff he's protecting), then I'm willing to bet the damn farm that it gives some sort of context or insight into what happened."

Scully nodded at all this, but couldn't help her frustration from bubbling over as they stood up from the table and approached the door. "We have nothing, now, Mulder. We aren't any closer to finding the kids than we were before we drove down here, and yet we've wasted 2 hours."

Mulder squeezed her hand sympathetically. "It wasn't a total waste," he tried to reassure her. "We know that this guy knows something—"

"But he's not sharing, Mulder!" Scully replied in a slightly raised voice. "And who even knows if it would help us find the kids? He didn't seem to think so, and if he was genuine in how he felt about them, he'd want us to find them. Honestly Mulder, they're probably dead right now."

She knew Mulder agreed that that was most likely, but he didn't say so, and she appreciated that, at least. "We still have plenty of evidence coming through, too, which might give us some direction," he tried again.

She shrugged noncommittally as they entered the heaven-like reception. "I hate to depend on physical evidence on such a time-sensitive case though, Mulder. You know that these things take forever, even when they're Priority."

"It's already been a few days, so it's possible that we could even hear back today. I'll give the lab a call and find out the status—"

He was interrupted by the sound of 500 stiletto heels clicking across the Carrera marble towards them, and they looked up to see the PR woman making her way towards them again. Her face was puzzled.

"Larry just blew through here, white as a sheet. What's going on? Is he suspected of anything? He ignored me when I called his name."

"We can't discuss the case," Scully replied, assuming an apologetic expression, but then she suppressed a flash of annoyance when Ms. Laurence's beautiful wide eyes appealed to Mulder for an explanation. Even more irritating was the way his eyes seemed to suddenly light up.

"I can tell you this," he seemed to confide in her. "Dr. Mitfuhlend wasn't nearly as helpful as we'd hoped."

"Really?" she asked, raising her perfectly arched brows in concern. "I find that somewhat surprising. It seems to me that he would do anything he could to find out what happened to Geoff and his family."

"No. . ." Mulder shook his head. "He wouldn't even answer some of most basic questions."

Ms. Laurence's eyes widened with intrigue, and Scully began to cotton on to what Mulder was doing and why he'd lit up when he saw her. She hid a grin; her partner was brilliant.

"Well, if they're basic, maybe I can be of assistance?" she offered brightly, falling right into Mulder's trap.

"Ahhm," he said, looking reluctant, "I don't know. . ."

Ms. Laurence actually batted her eyelashes at her partner, and Scully would have rolled her eyes if she wasn't so amused by Mulder's manipulations.

"Well, they were pretty simple questions I have about the company," Mulder said, seeming to waiver, and she leaned in a bit, "but I'm not sure how 'in the know' you are."

"Oh Agent Mulder," she said assuredly, "if it's about the company, I know it all. I am the director of PR, after all."

"Well okay then," Mulder allowed, as if giving her a special treat. She, too, seemed to take it as such, and it was clear that this woman couldn't stand being out of any loop whatsoever.

Mulder had seemed to pick up on that from the outset and fully exploited it, to Scully's total admiration. She was vaguely aware that she was now gazing at him in unguarded love and respect, but didn't care. Ms. Laurence was too entranced herself to notice, anyway.

"Do you know what the 'P' in P-Works stands for?" he asked, going in for the kill.

After a pregnant pause: "Oh. . .that?" her demeanor suddenly changed, and she twittered nervously. Well done, my love, Scully thought. Ms. Laurence's reaction was paydirt.

"Do you?" Mulder affected a skeptical expression, as if he didn't believe she actually did.

"I know," she insisted, but still seemed to hesitate.

"And don't tell me it's Physics, because I know it's not."

"Well. . ." she said, now looking guiltily off to the side. "Well yes, that's what we usually tell people. In fact, only a few of us in the company knew the truth. He didn't even tell me himself, actually," she admitted. "I learned it from a member of his team, Eli Williams. We were dating at the time." She blushed prettily. "Eli made me promise to never tell anyone else, and I haven't, though I could never understand why Geoff was so intensely private about it. But now that he's dead I guess it won't hurt—and if it can actually help somehow, then—"

"So what does it stand for?" Scully prompted impatiently. The woman Scully had initially perceived as ever-polished had become so flustered that she had forgotten to say.

"Right, sorry." She blushed again. "It's named after Geoff's younger brother, Pete—Petey. For some reason he's dedicated the entire company to him, in his honor. But like I said, I don't know why he didn't like for people to know that. And neither did Eli, for that matter."

Geoff Love has a brother? Scully felt her heart skip a beat and immediately looked over to Mulder to read his expression. Sure enough, he looked just as astonished as she felt. According to preliminary friend and neighbor interviews conducted by the SFPD and FBI, Geoff didn't have any siblings. But why would Geoff try to hide his younger brother from the majority of the people he knew, while at the same time dedicating his entire, soon-to-be word-famous company to him? It made no sense, and definitely seemed to be a thread that they should pull.

As they drove back to the city, Mulder sped slightly, and Scully could tell that he felt invigorated by this new development.

"Nicely played, Mulder," she told him, referring to how he got what they needed, and he nodded in thanks.

"She just wanted to be helpful, Scully," he said deadpan, but with a current of playful sarcasm underneath, and she smirked.

"Yeah, she wanted to help you right out of your pants," Scully teased, and Mulder shot her a wicked look.

"Luckily I need no assistance in that area anymore."

His expression suddenly turned serious before Scully had time to think of another witty retort. "For Mitfuhlend, the danger wasn't inherent in the fact that the 'P' stood for 'Pete.' But he knew that we'd dig up who the 'Pete' was, and he obviously didn't want us to learn of his existence. He knows something important about him, and that's what he's hiding."

Scully agreed wholeheartedly and nodded. "Right, he must also know why Geoff Love both hid the fact that he had a brother, yet named the company after him too. And for some reason he believes we shouldn't or don't need to know ourselves."

"But I'm betting we do need to know, Scully. Pete Love could be a prime suspect. The second we get back to the city I think we should get all the information we possible can on him, and find out exactly what the deal is. Is he mentally ill? Is he in prison? Recently out of prison? In Rehab?

"And," he continued, continuing to freely-associate, "is it possible that he killed the adults because he blamed Geoff for something, and maybe that 'something' is the secret Dr. Mitfuhlend is guarding? But perhaps he felt the kids were innocent and as their uncle, felt they were under his care? Did the kids even know they had an uncle?"

Scully cut into his thinking-aloud. "You're now doing what I did yesterday, and ignoring the fact that the reason we came out here is because these crimes were committed within locked spaces."

"Maybe if we nail down the 'who,' that will explain the 'how,'" he reasoned, glancing at her from the 101 freeway.

"Well we definitely didn't have much luck going the opposite way. . ." she noted. "We came across the potential 'how' but it didn't lead directly to the 'who.'"

"Unfortunately, no," Mulder agreed. "It appears that P-Works is just as many years back from perfecting Replacement Transference as Zydeknologie. Of course, we'll still want to check with the investors about the progress, but that's how it looks.

"I still don't think we can rule out teleportation as a factor because it's just too much of a coincidence," he hastened to add, "but let's try it this way for a bit."

Scully nodded absently and stared out the window at the blank beige sound wall streaming by, her optimism that they'd recover the kids slipping away just as quickly. Even though they hadn't come away from Silicon Valley empty-handed, too much time had passed. . .just too much. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to forestall a tension headache she could feel coming on.

"I really think we have something here, Scully," Mulder tried to assure her upon hearing the sigh. "I have a good feeling about this one. Geoff Love must have hidden the fact that he had a brother for some reason, and once we find out what that is, I think we'll see everything a little bit more clearly."

"Let's hope," Scully murmured, but meanwhile her headache notched up another level.