"The Bouquet" . . . "How was the wedding?" Mulder genially asked of his partner.

     "You mean the part where the groom passed out or the dog bit the drummer?" Scully replied rhetorically as she and Mulder walked down the long, empty hallway.

     With a sidelong glance her way and a hint of flirtation in his voice, Mulder questioned slyly, "did you catch the bouquet?"

     Without looking up, the enigmatic Dr. Scully enigmatically responded, "maybe."

     "I Have to Call My Brother" . . . "You've got a brother, don't you, Scully?" Mulder asked suddenly of his partner.

     "Yeah, I've got an older one and a younger one," Scully answered, a question in her response. Mulder turned and walked a few steps away before swiveling to face her.

     "Well, have you ever thought about calling one of them all day long and then all of a sudden the phone rings and it's one of them calling you?"

     Turning away slightly, she walked towards a door to the side and peered in through the window, asking dryly, "does this pitch somehow end with a way for me to lower my long-distance charges?"

     Ignoring the facetious nature of her response, Mulder continued, warming up to his theory.

     "I believe in psychic connection and evidence suggests that it's stronger between family members and strongest of all between twin siblings that share the same womb."

     Scully's patented skepticism highlighted her response as she leaned against the door, her face turned towards her partner. "Okay, maybe, but in this case, one sibling has closer ties to a frozen fudgsicle than he does to his own brother."

     Mulder moved and stood before her, his ringing belief in his paranormal hypothesis charging his argument. "Arthur Grable is not dead. He's in a state of consciousness that no human has ever returned from and what if that state allows one to develop psychic ability to a potential that the conscious mind is too preoccupied to explore or believe in?"

     With a sigh, Scully glanced away, a kernel of her own belief beginning to stir.

     "He could use that ability to control his brother," Mulder continued, "to kill those scientists."

     "But why?" Scully, ever the devil's advocate, questioned, rushing forth with her argument. "He's been working with these colleagues for years?"

     "Well, that's a question that Dr. Nollette can answer."

     "Okay," Scully replied with another sigh. "Let's go," and then she added with an imp of humor, "I have to call my brother."

     The slightest hint of a smile graced Mulder's lips, both at her comment and her growing belief in his theory.