The moment the office broke for lunch, Fox Mulder was down the hall, in the elevator, and on his way to the basement. Hovering tentatively in the doorway, Mulder watched Gannon Michaels sitting behind the desk that had once been Mulder's own, a peanut butter sandwich in one hand and a file folder in the other. Mulder knocked lightly on the half-open door.

"Hey, Agent Mulder!" Michaels said around his peanut butter, setting down the file folder.

"Mind if I intrude?"

Michaels shook his head. "Not at all. Just me and my sandwich here. My partner went out to grab some lunch of his own."

Mulder nodded as he moved too casually into the room. He tapped a hand against his thigh as he once again scanned his surroundings. Beyond strange to be back here. For months turning to years he had counted the days wishing he was back here in this room. Back in the niche he had carved out for himself, back in the day to day life that had once been a necessary tool of survival, and had become a private joy. Ghosts moving around him.

"Can I offer you a soda?" Michaels asked, holding out a can. "I've got an extra."

Mulder turned, taking a moment to register the present, then moved toward the desk. "Yeah, I'll actually take you up on that." He took the can, popped the top and took a long drink of the sweet carbonation. When he lowered the can he stared at the top for a moment, then said, "So, how are you liking life in the infamous X-Files division?"

Michaels mouth curled in a sideways grin. "Well, I'd say these couple of years have been more of an education than any of the prior training I had."

Mulder laughed. "Yeah, I can believe that. You definitely don't come out of this room the same as you went in."

"All hail to that," Michaels said, tilting his soda can in Mulder's direction. They both took a drink.

Mulder swung the chair away from what he assumed was Brennen's desk to face Michaels and dropped into it, long legs stretching out before him.

"Still on background checks?"

Mulder nodded. "Don't worry. If you stay on the X-Files long enough, you'll piss off enough people to get your turn."

Michaels laughed. "Man, I wish you were kidding."

Mulder took another sip of his soda. "So, what's on your plate right now? Still working on that Tennessee Witch or did you give that one up."

Michaels shook his head. "Nah, haven't given up, but I'm gonna need something better than what I've got to get another 302 approved."

"Comin' down on you, are they?"

"Well, let's just say, from what I can surmise, you and Scully in your heyday kinda used up the travel budget for well into the next century."

Mulder cringed. "Sorry about that."

"Hey, I would have done the same in your shoes."

"From what Scully says about you, I'm sure you would."

Michaels took another bite of his sandwich. He reached down into a bag beside his desk and pulled out a small package of BBQ chips. "You had lunch?" he asked Mulder as he held out the crinkly package.

Mulder waved it away. "Nah, I'm fine, thanks."