TrustNo1

Credits. Okay, a couple of things about that teaser: (a) Good use of the Sad, Sad Piano. Mark Snow is my composer boyfriend again. (b) And the monologue? Don't shoot me, but I almost liked it. I don't know; it didn't really make sense, but it was all sad and pretty, and featured the subject of item c. (c) Muuuuuuuuuulder!

After the commercials and a nice long nap, we return to more stop-action-looking footage of Scully. I think it's surveillance photography, actually. This time, she's wandering around a train station, nervously consulting her watch. The camera focuses on the back of her head.

Fade to Scully and William walking into the Federal Grounds Internet Caf. There's a Legal Grounds coffeehouse right by my house. In addition to java, they dispense free legal advice. Isn't that clever? I wonder if Federal Grounds dispenses, like, subpoenas. Anyway, Scully rolls the baby inside the caf, right past a sign reading "Cheese Specials." Indeed. The number-one cheese special is "gorganzola," a word that is very, very similar to my non-Mighty Big TV email address. I think I'm going to take that as a shout-out. It's as close as we're going to get, anyway. So thanks, 1013! Scully exchanges pleasantries with the barista, who clearly knows her, and snags a big mug of her regular. Finally, she rolls the sprog over to a table conveniently located near a big picture window, the better at which to be spotted by people who know she has a computer at home, and who will very easily put two and two together and figure out that she's not just surfing for porn. Seriously, Scully? Go to Kinkos. The bad guys will never look for you there, although the light's not nearly as flattering.

Scully signs into her email and finds five new messages, four of which are spam: "Lose 25 pounds in TWO WEEKS;" "Travel Bargains Airfa;" "Tired of Your Old Job?"; "Requested Research L." And... "Dearest Dana," from TrustNo1@mail.com. At this point, I just throw my hands up in the air and fling myself back against my sofa. "Dearest DANA"? Holy Mary, preserve us all. The letter says, "I've resisted contacting you for reasons I know you continue to appreciate. But, to be honest, some unexpected dimensions of my new life are eating away at any resolve I have left. I'm lonely, Dana, uncertain of my ability to live like this. I want to come home. To you, and to William." Okay. Stop it with the "Dana"s. Also, "I'm lonely"? Why doncha call your friends at 976-PORN, Fox? Scully reads for, like, twenty minutes, shooting the monitor a gigantic eyebrow. Somewhere, an infant begins to cry. Scully glances over at William, who's chawing contentedly on his bottle. She looks up, and sees that the crier is ensconced in a stroller being pushed by Mallory, Leo McGarry's daughter over on The West Wing. Which works, because they're in Washington! Maybe they were off visiting Grandpa! Scully smiles at the kid before brushing a tiny, crystalline tear out of her left eye and returns to her correspondence. "I am physically shaking right now, seeing your words," she types, "wishing it was you speaking them to me. I want so badly to see you, too, but you are still not safe here. PS - Pick up some Chubby Hubby on the way back from the market. Love, Polly Purseypants." Spawn of Mallory starts to wail again, and again Scully glances up. The kid is alone in her stroller. Mallory is nowhere to be seen. Scully makes a concerned face, and goes to investigate, leaving William all alone in his own stroller, holding a sign that says, "Kidnap Me, Please!" Scully and the Barista helplessly look at Spawn of Mallory, as Scully offers that she just saw Mallory. "I think that's her out there," Barista says, pointing outside. Mallory stands on the sidewalk, arguing with a man. Shortly, she comes back into the caf, collects the baby, half-heartedly apologizes, gives Scully a weird look, and leaves. Scully just stands there and looks pretty.

Quantico. Poor Scully is sitting around an abandoned autopsy bay in her lab coat, crying over the saddest little love letter in the world, which she's printed out, the better to carry around in her bra all day. Her email address, for those of you keeping score, is Queequeg0925@hotmail.com. She's staring sadly at her note when the door suddenly opens. Scully crumples the letter, shoves it into her pocket, and looks up to greet Doggett and Moronica. "Can I talk to you a second?" Doggett asks. "It's about Agent Mulder," Moronica chirps. Man, Annabeth Gish's hair looks awful. Awful! It's all...feathered or something. Gillian Anderson must have hidden a crisp five-hundred-dollar bill in the hairdresser's Christmas card or something, because her hair is all red and bouncy and perfect, and Annabeth Gish looks like she got her head stuck in a blender. Anyway, according to Doggett, some "guy" has been trying to contact them "through Intelligence," wanting to talk to Mulder and only Mulder. "Who?" Scully asks. They don't know. But he's finally "tipped his hand," Moronica says. Apparently, the contact has gotten his hands on some "highly classified military files." What kind of military files? Scully wonders. "About these bio-engineered soldiers we've all come in contact with," Doggett exposits, "those so-called 'Super-Soldiers,' the same ones threatening Mulder's life, forcing him to live underground." Wow, that was the possibly the worst-written piece of exposition I've ever heard. Poor Robert Patrick looks embarrassed just to be reciting that line. And what does this man in the possession of the files about the Super-Soldiers want with dearest Fox? "He wants to give [Mulder] the names of these Super-Soldiers," Doggett explains. "And Mulder's the only one he'll give them to." Everyone stares. Um, who cares who the Super-Soldiers are if they're unstoppable? I mean, I guess one could more easily avoid them that way, sort of. Or something. Not really. Whatever. At any rate, Scully looks all shifty, then tells Doggett and Moronica that she has no idea how to get hold of Mulder. Then she runs out of the room. Doggett makes a concerned face, and follows Scully into her classroom, shooting her a Meaningful Look. She looks back at him. Staring. Staring.

Back into the hallway! Scully looks very irritated. "What the hell are you doing?" Doggett asks her. "I'm trying to teach a class," Scully explains. "And also to live peacefully in denial." Doggett wonders if Scully understands exactly what this all means. "We know who these Super-Soldiers are; we can go after them. This is somebody giving us a way to make it safe for Mulder to come home again," he explains. "Come on, Dana -- Walter and I want to double-date with you guys! We've got four tickets for The Producers month and I really don't want to have to take Moronica and her Flavor of the Month again!" Scully huffs and points out that this whole "Must Talk to Mulder" thing could easily be a trick. Doggett wonders why Scully doesn't even want to check it out. "I don't want Agent Mulder's life to be any more in danger than it already is," Scully says, and turns to go back into the classroom. "How long you going to keep doing this?" Doggett gruffs loudly. Scully's all, what? And Doggett's all, "Refuse to trust me. Or anybody. How else you gonna get him home?" He stares at her with his pretty, pretty sparkly blue eyes. Scully looks at her expensive shoes and blinks, and then goes back into the classroom. Doggett is silently pained. to me on the sofa, the Mulder action figure sighs. "Please let me come home," he says. The Scully snorts and takes another swig from the flask she's started carrying around.

Street of Scully. Scully's opening the back door of her car to spring William from his car seat when she hears a man and woman arguing up the street. Fancy that, it's Mallory and the same man she was bickering with outside the internet caf! What an incredible coincidence! Scully looks at the couple for a moment, and then shuts the door on her precious and much-wished for child and leaves him alone in the car on a dark street and goes off to investigate. I'm not sure if Scully remembers this, but any number of horrific things have happened to her -- and her family members -- on this very street. She calls out to Mallory, asking if she needs help. She doesn't use the phrase, "Stop, I'm a Federal Agent," a string of words I find generally stops nasty street brawls on a dime. Instead, Scully just watches as the dude grabs the baby from Mallory and drives off into the night. Mallory weakly calls after him. Scully looks at her. "Are you all right?" she asks.

Scully's place. Scully, Mallory, and William stand in the living room in the dark. Scully? Have you learned nothing? Don't. Let. Total. Strangers. Into your apartment! Hello? Christ. Anyway, Scully says that Mallory obviously has "a problem," and explains that she saw Mallory that morning at the caf. Mallory admits that the baby-stealer is her husband. "It's okay. I understand," Scully says. "I mean, it's hard enough caring for a child." Much less some pain-in-the-ass man who's always running out on you, she thinks. "You don't have anyone, do you?" Mallory asks, rather rudely. I mean, what kind of thing is that to say to someone you barely know? Why doesn't she just ask Scully how long she's been a complete pathetic dried-up old loser with no life? Scully just makes a sad face, as usual, and looks down at her baby. "No. But I wish I did," she admits. "Maybe he'll come back," Mallory offers. Scully smiles, and asks her if she has "anywhere to go." Mallory lies that she doesn't. "I'm going to get you a blanket, and something hot to drink, all right? My name's Dana," Scully says. I can't believe Scully's going to let a total stranger sleep in her house.

Across town. Bethesda, Maryland, 9:38 PM. Doggett's on a stakeout, watching an abandoned-looking old building. He glances into his rearview mirror in time to watch Moronica pull up behind him. He looks pained to see her. She gets out of her car and hops into the passenger seat of his. "What do you have?" she asks. "Crabs. What do you have?" "The Clap." Actually, Doggett explains that "the source" called him on his cellular phone. Doggett put a trace on the call, and got "a node." He really ought to get that checked out. Anyway, there's only one occupied building in said node -- the one they're staking out. "Say this source is for real, and this is Mulder's chance to come home," Moronica intones. "We spook the spook, and maybe that chance goes away. Or worse, it drives Mulder deeper." Doggett nods absently, and looks up as a car comes down the street. It parks in front of the staked-out building, and a man hops out and runs inside. It's Mr. Mallory. Sans baby. "What are you doing?" Moronica asks, looking at Doggett's hand on the door handle. Doggett says that he's going to look in Mr. Mallory's vehicle. "I'll say it again. What we risk is compromising Mulder's return," Moronica says. Um, who talks like that? It's not like I'm at my job, all going, "I'll say it again, Fred. What we risk is losing the Parkinson account." Doggett smirks. "I don't plan to get caught," he tells her, and hops out of the car.

Inside Stakeout Central. It's like a fancy underground technological surveillance center -- some kind of secret government bunker. Mr. Mallory greets his co-workers and settles in at his desk. His neighbor, who's half in shadow, asks after "the wife and kid." Mr. Mallory lies that "everybody's good." The Shadowman (for that is what 1013 is calling him) glances at his computer monitor, which reveals surveillance-camera footage of Moronica and Doggett snooping around Mr. Mallory's car. How much do I wish this shadowy figure would reach into his blazer pocket, take out his pack of Morleys and light up? Come on, everyone knows CSM's not dead. Hey, maybe Mulder's staying with him! They're all sitting around, talking about the good old days and complaining that they never get to leave the house anymore. By the end of the first week as roommates, Mulder's lighting CSM's cigarettes for him, and they're playing a primitive game of one-on-one using a trash can and balled up pair of athletic socks.

More surveillance footage of Scully walking the perimeter of the lonely, lonely train station. What's going on here? Is she becoming a streetwalker? Oh, look! Moronica is there, right by the vending machine! And so is a man! A tall, tall man! It must be Mulder!

5:41 AM. Doggett, still on stakeout, looks at his watch and then at Moronica, who's sleeping in the seat to him. He looks up in time to see Mr. Mallory leave the Super-Secret Surveillance Bunker, get in his car, and drive off. Doggett pokes Moronica. She blinks. They give chase.

Scully Household. Mallory is lying on the sofa, wide awake and staring at the ceiling. In the bedroom, Scully sleeps, fully dressed. Mallory creeps off the sofa and peers into Scully's room. Satisfied that her host is asleep, she goes back into the living room and turns off the baby monitor. Hold the phone: Scully left William alone in the living room with a TOTAL STRANGER? OVERNIGHT? She couldn't even move the bassinet into her own room? Oh my God, who is this woman? If anyone should know that you're never totally safe in your own home, it ought to be Dana "My Sister Got Shot In the Head In My Apartment" Scully. As Mallory moves to pick up the baby, Scully's cell phone buzzes. She answers sleepily. It's Doggett. "You awake?" he asks. She mumbles that she just laid down and shut her eyes for a second. Fully clothed. I've so done that. I did that this morning. Doggett tells her that he and Moronica have tailed a guy onto her street -- a guy they bet isn't supposed to be there. And he's just entered her building. Scully half sits up, the blanket falling away from her suit. In the living room, William gurgles. Scully looks stricken, per usual.

Scully comes out of her bedroom, gun drawn. "Put him down. Now," she orders. "Oh my God!" Mallory squeals. "Put my baby down now," Scully reiterates. Mallory does, haltingly, as the front door knob turns behind her. Cue the Tense Music of Impending Horrible Doom.

But no! Out in the hallway, Doggett tackles Mr. Mallory, slamming him against the wall! Then throwing him roughly to the ground! And then he cuffs him! Finally, Moronica turns the corner behind him. She doesn't run very fast, does she? Maybe she was distracted by something shiny on the way into Scully's building.

In the apartment, Scully is still training her firearm on Mallory. Moronica opens the door, asking Scully whether she knows the man Doggett's caught. Scully shakes her head. Doggett didn't think so, since Mr. Mallory was trying to pick her lock. Dude, my friends pick my front-door lock all the time. And for some reason, that sounds really, really dirty.

So they show Mr. Mallory inside Scully's apartment and sit him down on the sofa to his slobbery-faced wife. He's not at liberty to reveal whom he works for, he tells them, but he and Mallory are, indeed, married. "You staged this, didn't you? Arguing on the street? Everything," Scully finally figures out. Remember when she was smart? Ah, good times. "It's a con job," she continues. "What are you after? My baby?" Somebody give this girl a prize! Mallory snuffles that she just wants to protect William. "That's enough," Doggett gruffs. Scully's doing that teary-eyed slack-jaw thing again, and while you all know that I think Gillian Anderson is bee-you-ti-ful, this expression is just not all that attractive. Mr. Mallory tells his wife to shut the hell up. Mallory snuffs that he swore the Feds could help them. "What the hell is going on here?" Doggett asks. Then, for no discernible reason, there's this high-larious "booooooooing!" sound on the soundtrack. Seriously, am I on drugs right now? What the hell was that? "They're watching," Mr. Mallory says. No, they're not. Have you seen the ratings recently? "They're watching?" Scully parrots, then turns and closes the blinds. Like they don't have you bugged, baby. Those blinds don't make a damn bit of difference, I'm sure. "You got something to say? Say it," she demands. Mr. Mallory explains that he works for the National Security Agency. And that he doesn't "exist as a citizen," and neither does anyone he works with. He was coming to get his wife, he says, "and stop this very event." See, it turns out their daughter, Joy, is "different." Like William. Mallory sniffles. There's snot running down her face. Scully goes even more slack-jawed.

Jesus. I'm so sick of this "I'm Surprised There's Something Wrong With my Son" routine. Let's look at the facts, folks: Scully is a medical doctor. Scully worked on the X-Files for many, many years, and in that capacity came into almost constant contact with shady folks whom she knows full well have the means and ways to fiddle with the health of others, since, you know, they almost killed her. And her other biological child? That blonde one? Whom no one remembers? Also had some wacko health issues, if I recall correctly. Connect the dots. Finally: a bunch of unstoppable Super-Soldiers showed up to watch the kid's birth. And it wasn't just because they were in the area. Dearest Dana: News flash! Something's wrong with your baby! Now, get your gun, grab your laptop, and go and fix it! Because I don't know who this sniveling emotional wreck is, but it's not Scully. I mean, sure, for a while, she's mopey. Fine. But two entire years? Jesus H. Christ, woman! Get a hold of yourself and call the Lone Gunmen and act like the federal agent/ doctor/ kick-ass woman that you are! GOD! MY GOOD GOD! All right. I feel better.

Moving on. It turns out that Mr. Mallory and his NSA cronies know virtually everything about Scully, Doggett, and Moronica. The three musketeers look somewhat dismayed by this information. Cue a little more hot slack-jaw action, as Mr. Mallory reminds Scully and the viewing audience about William's telekinetic powers. Apparently, little Joy Mallory can perform the same party trick. "So, you've been looking in this apartment with what, cameras?" Moronica asks. No, Moronica, they're using empty rolls of toilet paper as telescopes. Bliddly blah blah, Mr. Mallory noticed all this stuff whilst surveilling Scully, and he told his boss, and his boss looked into it, and he "learned things about a Super-Solider program. Things he won't tell [them]. Crimes, he said, against innocent people." "What does he want with Mulder?" Scully says, through her slack jaw. "Mulder's the only one capable of making the connections, he says," Mr. Mallory explains. I'm not sure I understand that reason. Is Mr. Mallory saying that the rest of them are too stupid? Mallory babbles that she wants "to find out the truth. About what [their] babies really are." She sniffs.

It is at this point that the phone rings. And it's Shadowman. Who's really Special Agent Darius Michaud, now that I can see his entire face! He was blown up in Dallas in the first fifteen minutes of Fight the Future! He's dead! He's supposed to be dead! And, apparently, he's also been listening in on their conversation. "You ever heard of the Constitution?" Scully asks him tearfully. That's just a weak argument, since everyone has heard of the Constitution. "It's what allows foreign terrorists to live here and enjoy the American dream, until the time comes to destroy it," Michaud says. Yeah, good point! Damn those foreigners! Damn them! That's an incredibly stupid line, which I'm sure was inserted in the wake of September 11th, and I'm not sure what point it serves. Are we supposed to be all, "yeah! Screw the Constitution," or something? Or are we supposed to be all, "Michaud's awfully dumb. The Constitution doesn't really mention foreigners at all"? Or what? At any rate, Michaud watches Scully via a surveillance camera (that must be mounted somewhere in her living room), and tells her that his "trespasses are the least of [her] concerns, after what they've done to [her] and Mulder." And he'd be happy to tell Agent Mulder what "they" plan to do . "Well, you're going to have to tell me, because I don't know how to reach Agent Mulder," Scully tearfully insists. But she sent him an email yesterday, Michaud remarks. (Can I just take a sidebar here to comment on how very embarrassing it would be to find out that someone had been watching my every move? Not because I'm all having hot sex and walking around naked all the time, but because I live alone and I do all kinds of crazy things that I would never do if I thought people were watching. Last night, for example, I sang along to the entire soundtrack of theBuffymusical while devouring a plate of Saltines covered in sour cream and watching Passions. These are not activities to which others should be privy! Anyway.) Scully's lips tremble. She tears up. And then she tells Michaud that she wants to "see his face" before she tells him word one. "Are you still there?" she asks. Michaud tells her to meet him at the bus stop in front of the internet caf in twenty minutes.

Scully slams the phone into the receiver and runs into the other room to put on her coat. Doggett follows, stammering that he doesn't think this is the best idea Scully's ever had in her entire life. "I need you to watch William, [Moronica]," Scully instructs. In the background, Moronica nods. Doggett insists that Scully at least consider bringing along some backup. "You said I had to trust someone, right? Well, that's what I'm doing," Scully says, and storms out. Doggett's all, "Yeah, but I meant me!"

Bus stop. Scully's brown suit? Smashing. Her cell phone rings, and she answers nervously. "Are you armed, Agent Scully?" She is. "And you're prepared to use your weapon, should anything go wrong?" Scully's all, huh? Michaud tells her that if she screws this up, he's going after her, so she needs to be prepare to shoot him or be shot. Then he tells her to do exactly as he says, and instructs her to get into a nearby car. Cut to surveillance footage of Scully doing just that. Okay, here's my question: how did the NSA get the cash and manpower to install cameras everywhere in Washington, DC? Do they have, like, an army of guys who leap out of unmarked vans in the dead of night to bolt tiny cameras to the ceiling of every coffee bar, rotisserie chicken joint, and Blockbuster Video store in town? No matter: Scully gets in the car, and Michaud tells her to drive off. "Right now!" he yells. She does, almost causing a twelve-car pile-up. "Is it absolutely necessary to get innocent people hurt?" Scully asks, but Michaud coolly reminds her that she's free to get out of the car anytime she wants. "I'm doing this for your own protection. And for Mulder's," he intones. Scully almost rolls her eyes.

Michaud has our formerly plucky heroine pull into an alley and park the car. The alley looks very much like the one in Fight the Future, but I suspect that's a bit too much to ask of the continuity folks at 1013. As instructed, Scully walks to the top of the alley and gets into the other car waiting for her there. The Tense Music of Who The Hell Knows What's Going On Here Anymore thonks loudly in the background. At the studio, Mark Snow eats another donut and idly flips through the pages of Juggs. Composing the score to the opening montage wiped him out for the week. Michaud tells Scully to get on the freeway and drive westward until he tells her to stop.

Dark. Driving. Dark. Driving. Dark. Finally, Michaud tells Scully to stop the car. How uncomfortable that must have been for her, driving all that way and holding a phone to her ear. Michaud should have at least left her a hands-free device on the passenger seat. Scully stops the car, looking around nervously. Michaud tells her to get out of the car, but to leave it running. She does. Then she goes around to the back of the car, watches the trunk open as if of its own accord, gets naked, and puts on the clothes she finds back there. All at Michaud's telephonic request. Scully says some stuff about it being the middle of nowhere and he says some stuff about there not being any middle of nowhere anymore (and I beg to differ, because I've driven from Los Angeles to San Francisco, and there are parts of central California which are, officially, the Middle of Nowhere).

Finally, when Scully's wrapping up her old clothes and fiddling with her gun, Michaud walks up. Inexplicably, Scully does not scream, nor demand to know how he survived sitting right in front of a giant exploding bomb in Dallas, but instead just looks at him. Nervously. And then obeys. Irritably. Michaud shuts the trunk, then hits a button on a remote. The car drives off under its own power, then explodes into flames. "My suit!" Scully screams. "You sorry son of a bitch, that was my favorite suit!" Not really. Actually, she just watches the car burn for a moment, then hands Michaud her watch, at his request. "This is ridiculous," she says. "Do you want to see Mulder again?" Michaud asks, examining her timepiece carefully, then giving it back. Scully fastens it, then shakily mentions that the clothes he left for her were her size. "How the hell do you know my size?" she asks. Well, you're teeny. It's not that hard to figure out. But Michaud informs her that he knows pretty much everything about her: her blood type, her resting heart rate, her childhood fear of clowns (huh?), the name of her college boyfriend, the true color of her hair (red, right? Because whenever we've seen a flashback of Childhood Scully, her hair is red. I don't think Ma Scully was dousing little Dana with Miss Clairol at age five), her ATM PIN, her favorite charities, and her pet peeves. "I know you spend too much time alone. And I know. That on one lonely night. You invited Mulder. To your bed," Michaud announces. Scully makes a pained face at this, the ultimate invasion of her privacy. "I was surprised as you are," Michaud says. Scully bites her lip and looks away from him. "Who authorizes you? I mean, what gives you the right...Who are you?" she asks. "I'm the future," Michaud says. "Fight me." Scully cocks a nervous brow. "And I risked my life being here," he adds. Scully huffs and almost starts to bawl. Michaud loudly announces that they need to reach Mulder, or they have no future. "Perhaps no one will," he says. He stares at her. She stares back. Staring. And then Michaud orders Scully to get into yet another car, this one all the way up the road, and to contact Mulder within the twenty-four hours, or he disappears from her life forever! "You understand, lady?" he asks, waving a set of keys in front of her face. Scully rolls her eyes, reaches up to snatch the keys, then stomps off angrily into the night. So, here's my question: why the hell did she have to change her clothes for that? ["So he could see if she was wearing a wire, maybe?" -- Wing Chun]

Quantico. Scully's teaching a small class something about a dead body. Enter Doggett, who just can't stop walking into Scully's classes, clearly. Scully looks up, sees him, and promptly marches into the hallway. "I'm teaching a class, Agent Doggett. Is it something pressing?" she asks. Doggett's worried, he says. "You have a right to be," Scully mutters, looking distressed, as per usual. Doggett asks why Michaud doesn't go directly to Mulder? Then he answers himself: "Because he knows that Mouuuuulder won't resurface unless he's contacted by the only person he trusts completely." The thing without which he cannot live with which. That'd be Scully. Speaking of, she points out that Michaud came to Doggett, not to her. Doggett ignores this, and wonders if Mr. and Mrs. Mallory are in on this little scheme, too. Scully doesn't think so, because, apparently, they took out her brain back when they put in that chip, and the loss of it is finally beginning to kick in. "How do you know they're not being used by this Shadowman to lure Mooooulder out? To kill him?" Doggett asks. Shadowman's parents must have used the same book of baby names that CSM's and Well Manicured-Man's parents consulted. Scully sputters that Mr. and Mrs. Mallory don't trust Michaud "for their own reasons." Blah blah blah blah blah don't call Mulder, blee blee blee, she already has. Yada yada, safe passage home? Yammer, yammer, it was all planned before he left town. "We can call the whole thing off," Doggett offers. "I can't. I've already sent for him," Scully says. "Mulder's on a train. He'll be here at midnight." Maybe Doggett can reach him! Doggett says. "You can't do that to me," Scully spits, in the first really believable display of emotion I've seen on this show all season. "I'm sorry --" Doggett begins. "I want to see him so bad[sic]," Scully almost yells. Doggett takes a tiny step back. "I know," he says. "And I want to make sure that you get to, Dana. That's the whole reason I'm here." Staring. Staring. "Well!" Scully announces, almost-cheerfully, "It's too late! And I have to go!" And with that, she stomps off. Doggett looks at his shoes.

Cut to the Train Station of Inappropriate Product Placement. Seriously, is this how FOX is making money on this show now? Because there's a gigantic Fiji Water vending machine in the middle of this shot, for, like, twenty minutes. Scully walks around the vending machines, in the dead of night, her pretty blue scarf billowing around her face. She's all pretty for Mulder! Pacing. Pacing. Music of the Boyfriend Who Will Never Arrive. Pacing. Pacing. Music. Pacing.

FBI Evidence Lab. Enter Doggett, evidence bag in hand. He approaches an older female agent, who looks up at him and reveals herself to be...Mrs. Landingham, also from The West Wing! Man! This episode is West Wing-tastic. She lifts this little pseudo-miner's-light thing away from her eyes and glares at Doggett. "We spoke a few moments ago," Doggett says. "You said if I came right down, you might be able to help me out?" Mrs. Landingham purses her lips. "What'd I get myself into?" she asks. Doggett's got Scully's clothes. "A man handled them, and gave them to a female agent," he says. Mrs. Landingham takes the bag. "When do you need them?" she asks pertly. They've got a little over half an hour, Doggett says, after a glance at his watch. Why do they need to know this information before Mulder arrives? Because...oh, whatever. It's just not worth the mental effort. Mrs. Landingham gets to work. Doggett watches. She looks up. "Your staring over my shoulder doesn't make it go faster," she tells him. He stares back at her for a moment, almost smiling. Man, Doggett has way better chemistry with Mrs. Landingham than he does with Moronica. I sure wish this was The Doggett and Mrs. Landingham Hour. The two of them could dash around Washington, solving crimes and trading crusty witticisms. FOX could sandwich this show in between Scully and Cregg, a Cagney and Lacey-esque romp in which Dana and C.J. race around Washington, solving crimes and trading sassy witticisms, and John and Walter and Sam and Josh, a show about two crime-solving gay couples, who dart about Washington, solving crimes and trading boyfriends.

Train station. Scully looks at her watch. It's 11:30. She looks cold and nervous and almost a little happy. Moronica wanders around in the background, past the Coke machine. Cool, Refreshing Coca-Cola: When You're Waiting For the Man Who Will Never Show. Behind the wandering women, Mr. Mallory walks up to one of many, many surveillance cameras and spray paints over the lens.

LBO. Doggett's nifty retro-desk clock shows that it's twenty minutes to twelve. I have to say, it's rather clever the way 1013 is showing the passage of time using actual clocks and watches rather than the usual time/date stamp. Doggett finally sets down the baseball he was tossing around nervously, and books out of the office.

Five minutes. Train station. Moronica stands guard. Scully just stands, looking down the tracks, an apprehensive expression on her face. The train's bell clangs in the distance. Watching. Clanging. Watching. Clanging. Watching. And then Mr. Mallory takes out his gun and aims it, seemingly at Scully. Everything, suddenly, happens in slow motion. "Scuuuuuuullllllllllly!" Moronica screams, all slowly. Mark Snow cues up the Sad Piano of Dude, Mulder is Never Coming Back. Mr. Mallory screams, "Whhhhhhhyyyyyy?" at Michaud: the person at whom he's actually pointing his gun. Simultaneously, Moronica flings her body onto Scully's, knocking her onto the ground. It all reminds me of nothing so much as that episode of Friends wherein Phoebe takes a tranquilizer in the ass for Ross's monkey. Michaud draws his own firearm -- like, nice security, train station. Haven't you ever heard of terrorists? -- and shoots Mr. Mallory in the chest. Mr. Mallory falls down, just as someone shoots Michaud, first in the leg, then the chest. The shooter is Doggett, who appears as if from out of nowhere, his coat dramatically billowing around him. Michaud falls in front of the train. Which runs him over. The dude in charge at the train station walkie-talkies to the train that they've got two men down, and to "go on through." Scully peels herself up off the ground and runs at Walkie-Talkie, yelling that he's got to stop the train. He ignores her. "I'm a federal agent!" she shouts. "Keep rolling," he says. "Mulder!" Scully calls piteously, as the train speeds past her. Aw, man. Even though I knew Duchovny wouldn't be on this episode, I am strangely surprised and disappointed that the train didn't stop. How silly is that? After sobbing her little heart out for half a second, Scully goes to tend to Mr. Mallory, who dies right in front of her. Scully looks very sad, and starts to cry some more. She pounds on Mr. Mallory's chest and looks up at the sky and seems very, very lost. "Nooooooooooooo!" screams the Mulder action figure.

After the commercials we return to the train station, which has been beset by the police. Doggett's talking to the sheriff, whilst Moronica and Scully sit in silence on a bench. Seeing Moronica sitting to Scully like that, companionably, I almost like her. It's better when she doesn't talk. And Scully could use a female friend. A real one, who'll loan her tampons, and buy her soda when she runs out of spare change for the machine, and compliment her haircut. They're just sitting there when Mallory runs up and tearfully tells Scully that all she and Mr. Mallory ever wanted were answers. "We never meant to harm you," she snuffles. Scully knows. They sob and apologize to each other and embrace. Scully examines her manicure behind Mallory's back and reflects irritably to herself that she's not going to get laid, again. Behind them, Moronica arranges her face into a sympathetic composition. Doggett strolls up and informs them that the body's gone and disappeared on them. Scully's all, what do you mean? "He fell in front of a fricking movin' train and he ain't down there on the tracks," Doggett repeats, testily. "Where is he?" Moronica asks. Well, he's not there. He's nowhere. And for reasons I can't comprehend from my notes, Doggett then changes the subject to Michaud's DNA. Maybe because his DNA has something to do with his ability to survive getting shot in the chest and then run over by a locomotive? I don't know. "The man's damn DNA can't be tested. They say it's some weird DNA complex with iron, or some damn thing," Doggett grouses. The way Robert Patrick delivered that line cracked me up. Moronica and Scully mutter about none of this making sense. "I think it does," Doggett drawls. "Because he's not a man. He's a Super-Solider." Scully groans. "Muuuuulder," she says. "I've got to warn Mulder!" Everyone makes blank faces, and then she runs over to Walkie-Talkie and tells him that he's got to contact the conductor of Mulder's train, and tell him that the man who fell on the tracks is now on the train, and they've also got a federal agent on that train, and...Walkie-Talkie looks confused, as a transmission comes over the radio. Apparently, they've "had a jumper." Some dude jumped off the train and ran into a nearby rock quarry. Oh, Jesus Christ.

So, they drive to the rock quarry. It's 1:17 AM. Doggett parks the car, and he and Moronica leap out. They're heading down to the bottom of the rock quarry on foot. Scully leaps behind the wheel of the car and takes off.

Doggett and Moronica scramble down the walls of the rock quarry, dust flying. They stop short when Doggett spies a tall guy in a leather-looking jacket running across the clearing. "Mooolder! Mooooolder!" Doggett yells. "Mulder" stops and stares up at them. "Moulder, it's John Doggett!" Moronica stares. "Mulder" just starts running again. Maybe to get away from her.

Elsewhere at the quarry, Scully gets out of her car and finds nothing. She calls Mulder's name. Nothing. This makes me sad. Poor Scully. Poor Mulder. Poor, poor me. "Mulder? Mulder!" Nothing. Finally, a man comes out of the fog. "Mulder?" Scully asks. But no. It's Michaud. Scully turns tail and runs. Michaud runs after her.

Running. Running. Running. Running. Running. Eventually, Scully finds herself at the edge of the quarry. She has nowhere to go. Finally, she pulls her gun and points it right at the guy who got run over by a train and didn't die. "Stop right there," she says, "or I'll put a hole through your chest and it'll take a really, really long time to regenerate! And then how will you look?" Since he can't be killed and is thus unconcerned by this threat, he keeps on coming. "Why do you want to kill us?" Scully asks, a question that must have run through her mind a million times in the last nine years. "Mulder must die. Mulder, or your son," Michaud announces. Hey, I wonder if this has something to do with that episode last season, when Krycek told Skinner he had to choose between Mulder's life and Scully's baby? Isn't that what he offered? I actually don't completely remember. Whatever. "What are you talking about?" Scully asks. I don't understand why these Super-Soldiers didn't kill William when he was born. I mean, they were all there. Or Mulder, for that matter, since he was there, too. Or are there two kinds of Super-Soldiers, the way there are two kinds of aliens? Maybe the Super-Soldiers are aliens! Maybe...oh, God. My skull. "What does this have to do with my son?" Scully hollers. "Answer me!" Michaud puts his hands up for a moment, then he has some kind of seizure-type thing and his face turns all black and charred and he shoots into the rock and disappears, clipping Scully on the way. Yeah, I have absolutely no idea what's going on here anymore.

Internet Caf. I think. Whatever, Scully's at the computer. "I hold no hope you can respond to this," she types. "Or that it reaches you. I only hope that you are alive." My old pal, the Oooooooh EEEEEEHHHHH Ohhhhhh Music cranks it, old-school, on the soundtrack. "I cannot help believing that you jumped off that train because you knew what I now know. That these Super-Soldiers, if that's what they are, can, in fact, be destroyed. That the key to their destruction lies in the iron compound at that quarry. I am scared for you, Mulder. And for William. The forces against us are unrelenting. But so is my determination. To see you again. To regain the comfort and safety we had for so short a time. Also, the hot sex. Until that time, I remain, forever yours, Dana." Scully cocks a determined and familiar-looking eyebrow and looks over her email. Beside her, William coos. She smiles at him, finally, and rubs his soft little baby cheek. And hits "send." Oooooooooooh AAAAAAAhhhhhh. Ehhhhhhh AAHHHHHHHHHHH!