The security at the Federal Building was non-existent. Mulder tried to catch the eye of the receptionist while two G.C.P.D. officers stood off to one side exchanging muttered comments. "Excuse me. Excuse me, I'm here to see Bobby. I'm with the D.C. Special Delegation."

The woman behind the desk displayed two special expressions of disgust; one for Bobby and one for the delegation. "First floor at the back. The elevator is off, but the stairs there will take you right up."

Bobby sat on his desk and pointed a remote at the ageing TV set in the corner. The news came into view, suitably muted. He nodded as Mulder entered.

"Just another day in the naked city." He pointed at the anchorwoman trying to feign interest in a cotton candy stall and some distracted children. "Naked, bound, gagged, tarred and feathered." He noted Mulder's apprehension. "The city I mean." He gestured at the groomed presenter. "Alice is alright. You should hear her stories about Indochina."

"Maybe we'll have time for that later in the week." Mulder pulled up a chair and sat opposite Bobby. "Tell me about the surge in street violence; the weird characters." Mulder had exchanged a long series of electronic mails with Bobby, stilted and tedious, that revealed little more than the available news reports.

"Nothing special, Foxy. Just vigilantes with a bit more imagination than we're used to." He sniffed the coffee in a large cup in front of him. "That's good." He pointed to the small coffee machine dripping efficiently in on the ledge by the window and indicated it was available to his guest.

Mulder shook his head. "Just human then? No allegations of strange creatures?" Mulder was in two minds. If this was just a series of exuberant libertarians, he wanted to return home straight away to his news clippings and beer bottles. But if this was something more, humans or half-humans with unknown abilities, he had to be here on the ground. He had to know.

"Oh, like that 'mothman' thing you were always chasing?" Bobby shook his head. "Nah. Just vigilantes. So many vigilantes. A wolf, a dog, a bat, a cat."

"A rat?" Mulder added. Disappointment seeped into his pores. He was already considering a flight home.

"Is that a new one?" Bobby raised his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkling in a way that emphasized his receding hairline and added ten years to his appearance. "I haven't read all the reports this morning."

"No, I was joining in. I've no idea what any of those rumors are."

"Sure. Who knows? There'll be a rat soon enough. A rat man maybe. But you should drop in to a Post Office. Check out the sketches. Hilarious."

"Is there anyone collecting all the 'character' data together?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Me." He tapped the side of his skull. "In here. You want it written down? It wouldn't fill two sides of the paper." He looked around for a loose sheet of paper.

Mulder sighed. "We can do that later. Give me some kind of lead. Surely there's someone I can talk to."

"Hey. I thought we were talking? I got a week off the Wayne tax case just to help you."

Mulder was surprised. Bobby's offer of assistance was probably more selfish than selfless. A week on mind-numbing filing or a couple of days hanging around bars with an old buddy, chewing the fat. But Bobby knew Gotham before it got all crazy.

Mulder knew he had to appeal to Bobby's old-school nature. He leaned forward and clapped his palms on the desk decisively. "So let's hit the streets together. Like a couple of cops on the beat." He nodded encouragingly, vaguely indicating the city outside.

Bobby smiled. "Hey. We're better than that. Detectives! Real detectives on the trail of real criminals." He pushed a pile of photostats which pointedly refused to fall over. "Not this shit."

:::

Bobby's Mercury was parked in a lot squeezed into the lane behind the Federal building. He tapped the roof affectionately. "I'll get a Camaro when I retire," he mused. "What do you drive?"

Mulder opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. "Too many cars in D.C. I use rentals when I need to."

Bobby looked at Mulder carefully. "You can drive, right?"

Mulder nodded. "Of course."

"Good. I'll need you as wing man if we spend too long hunting down my snitches. Know what I mean?"

Mulder knew by reputation that every bar was a chance for Bobby to drink, every strip joint was a chance to stop and stare. "That's commendable. I'm glad Gotham is strict about its drink driving laws."

Bobby snorted. "I don't know about that, otherwise I'd never have got in to work this morning." He belched to emphasize his point. Now Mulder noticed the smell of mild beer. "No. You need to drive me back if I start to get numb in my feet." He laughed raucously then backed up the car.

Mulder did not answer. He needed Bobby's know-how if he was going to make any progress with the vigilante situation. But if Bobby continued to be a total ass, he might have to rethink that strategy. He pulled out his cellphone.

"Got to check in with the little lady? Good idea. Keep her sweet. I know what you're thinking there. Good plan."

Mulder tapped the phone absentmindedly. "Is there anywhere in Gotham that has even basic reception?"

Despite driving fast in the afternoon traffic, Bobby leaned over to look at the little screen. "What carrier do you have? What is that? Old Grandma Bell? No. In Gotham you have to use a local service. The national carriers won't pay the extra fees to maintain the towers." He looked back to the road. "Know what I mean?"

Mulder already had a feel for how Gotham was run. "What's the name of the local provider? I'll look it up." He tried to access the settings on his handset.

Bobby laughed again. "What? You can't guess?"