When I woke up, I saw my brother Sean heading in for work.

Um. 

I'd gone to sleep in Kettering, Ohio. And Sean works at the 
planetarium in the Air and Space Museum in DC. Spot the problem?

My head shot forward for a better look and I found myself kissing 
windshield. 

Ow.

I prayed for caffeine, blinked, and took a second look. Yup. I was
on the passenger side of a...van...parked as close to Air & Space
as you could get on the Mall. Sean was rapidly disappearing through 
the glass doors. And there were Celine Dion CDs everywhere.

Now I knew I had been brought here against my will.

I slowly looked around, looking for some clue to explain my plight. 
Handcuffs. Needlemarks. Murder-van paraphernalia. But no. All that
I saw was a bunch of amps, some stereo equipment, several boxes full 
of CDs, and a clipboard. 

I examined the last in search of clues. On the top sheet was a set 
of directions, a time, and a date. If it was today's date, I had no 
way to tell. But that top sheet was letterhead stationery. 

I saw that the heading said, "Shipper Music Services", and felt 
suspicious. Had Sean played a joke on me? Or my brother at home, 
Kevin? But this all seemed pretty elaborate for a couple of guys who 
didn't do practical jokes....

I sighed. Find out today's date. Then worry about the rest.

So I got out of the van, walked to the nearest newspaper box, and
found out that the date on the paper was in fact today's date.
And there was a client's information sheet (second sheet on the 
clipboard) that I hadn't noticed in the dark van.

"Sims", it said.

"Bride: Harriet. Groom: Bud Roberts. Deejay hours: 6."

I said many naughty words. A nice Park Police officer looked at
me questioningly. I blushed and went back to the van to bang my
head against its outside wall (the one _away_ from the officer)
in peace.

"Shipper Music Services", said the wall. "Your deejay for romance." 
There was also a phone number.

Did I mention that the phone number had a 555 prefix?

I walked around the van and went further down the Mall, toward the 
Castle. Once there, I asked for and received a peek at the white
pages of a couple different phonebooks.

My brother's phone number in Alexandria was the same. But there were
a lot of 555's in the DC area. For example, there was one 'Rabb H'
listed who had such a prefix. (I should probably note that I had 
checked the DC phonebooks at work and found no Rabbs and only one 
Mackenzie, who had spelled his name differently. Yes, I am 
obsessive.) And as we all know, 555 prefixes aren't used in the 
United States, except for dialing information. I prayed for caffeine
again.

Obviously, I was in an alternate universe. Where JAG was real, and
all those TV phone numbers really worked. Obviously.

It was just about then, my feelings numb and my head hurting, that
I looked up and saw Mulder and Scully walking across the Mall.

====================================================================
Now, I should probably tell you that this was Saturday on the weekend 
before "Wedding Bell Blues" aired. Tomorrow night there'd be a new
episode of The X-Files entitled "Folie a Deux". Each was the 
penultimate episode of the season; the final episodes of both were 
going to be cliffhangers, with the X-Files one leading into the movie.
I didn't know what would happen in them. I didn't know if the X-Files
episode had already occurred or was still sometime in the future.

And frankly, I worried more about Mulder and Scully than Harm and Mac. 
Evil cabals don't have to worry about going to court.

So I had to tell them something. But what could I tell the intrepid 
G-folks to help them stay alive? What could I tell them that they'd 
believe? Heck, what did _I_ really know about what was going to 
happen? For all I knew, everything I'd been told about the movie was
a lie; after all, Chris Carter had told people he was spreading false
rumors on the net.

My mind raced. I would have to make a decision soon, before they 
passed me by.