The X-Files, Season 6

AD Maslin:
Agent Mulder... Agent Mulder, I'm reading here a very pie-in-the-sky report about global domination plans by vicious, long-clawed spacelings? Is there going to be data to back this vague, omnibus account?

Mulder:
Yes.

AD #1:
I see your renowned arrogance has been left quite intact.

Cigarette Smoking Man:
There was some sloppiness in Phoenix where they found the body. The local PD got involved. These were taken at the scene by a crime reporter.

First Elder:
These were run in the press?

Cigarette Smoking Man:
I trumped up a story about a crazy Indian on the loose. Never underestimate the public's willingness to blame the Red Man for... anything they can't explain.

Scully:
Mulder, I just want to remind you that by not informing local PD we are in technical violation of state laws prohibiting contamination of a crime scene. (Mulder pays no attention to her; mutters) Why do I bother?

Mulder:
[Scrapes nail from wall] Ah. Somebody broke a nail.

Scully:
Is it an animal?

Mulder:
Well, it ain't RuPaul.

Mulder:
What does it take? For this thing to come up and bite you on the ass? I saw these creatures. I saw them burst to life. You would've seen them, too but you were infected with that virus. You were passed out over my shoulder.

Scully:
Mulder, I know what you did. I know what happened to me but without ignoring the science, I can't... Listen, Mulder... (takes his hand) You told me that my science kept you honest. That it made you question your assumptions. That by it, I'd made you a whole person. If I change now... It wouldn't be right... or honest.

Mulder:
I'm talking about extraterrestrial life alive on this planet in our lifetime. Forces that dwarf and precede all human history. I'm sorry, Scully, but this time your science is wrong. (walks away)

Mulder:
Why are you here?

Gibson:
They were using me 'cause I can communicate with it.

Scully:
Communicate with what?

Gibson:
You already know. You just don't want to believe it.

[Mulder and Scully glance at each other]

Spender:
You're not supposed to come here. It's what was agreed to. It's the deal you made.

Cigarette Smoking Man:
I had to congratulate you. Commend how you handled things. How you handled Mulder.

Spender:
I did what I was asked.

Cigarette Smoking Man:
You did well, son. He's on very thin ice now, you know?

Spender:
Mulder will be back. As long as he lives, he won't give up.

Cigarette Smoking Man:
Well, there's solutions, of course. Simple but extreme solutions. I've used these methods. They have their place. But not here.

Spender:
(surprised) You've killed men?

Cigarette Smoking Man:
You can kill a man but you can't kill what he stands for... Not unless you first break his spirit. That's a beautiful thing to see.

Mulder:
It would help if you'd shut the door. It would make it harder for them to see that I'm totally disregarding everything I was told.

Scully:
(closing the door) Everything we were told, Mulder.

Mulder:
They can't take away the X-Files, Scully. They tried.

Scully:
You know, Agent Fowley's report to OPR painted the facts in an interesting way. I hope you haven't been betrayed.

Mulder:
(not looking at her) Agent Fowley's report was a means to an end. Trying to protect the work. Protect the X-Files.

Scully:
Mulder, Agent Fowley's report states that the man you saw attacked was bludgeoned by an unknown subject. She makes no mention of a little boy who as it happens, is nowhere to be found. It would seem that her report protects everything but you.

Mulder:
Agent Fowley took me to that plant at great risk to herself where I saw something that you refuse to believe in. Saw it again, Scully. And though it may not say it in her report, Diana saw it, too. And no matter what you think she's certainly not going to go around saying that just because science can't prove it isn't true.

Scully:
I don't doubt what you saw, Mulder. I don't doubt you. I'm willing to believe, but not in a lie and not in the opposite of what I can prove. It comes down to a matter of trust. [He looks up at her] I guess it always has.

Mulder:
You asking me to make a choice?

Scully:
I'm asking you to trust my judgment. To trust me. [Hands him a folder]

Mulder:
I can't accept that. Not if it refutes what I know to be true.

Scully:
Mulder, these are test results. DNA from the claw nail we found matching exactly the DNA from the virus you believe is extraterrestrial.

Mulder:
[Takes the folder and looks at the papers inside] That's the connection.

Scully:
Which matches exactly DNA that was found in Gibson Praise.

Mulder:
Wait a minute. I don't understand. You're saying that Gibson Praise is infected with the virus?

Scully:
No. It's a part of his DNA. In fact, it's a part of all of our DNA. It's called a genetic remnant. It's inactive junk DNA. Except in Gibson it's turned on.

Mulder:
So if that were true, that would mean that Gibson is in some part extraterrestrial.

Scully:
It would mean that all of us are.

Scully:
Uh, Virgil Nokes? I'm Agent Scully. This is Agent Mulder. We're with the FBI.

(Mulder, in dark sunglasses, leans against one of the porch supports very bored and petulant, eating sunflower seeds.)

Farmer:
Jehovah's Witness?

Scully:
No, sir. Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Mulder:
But we do have a free copy of the Watchtower for you if you'd like.

Farmer:
I figure I got better things to do with my fertilizer than going around blowing government buildings sky high.

Scully:
Yeah. Well, as we said, sir this is just routine.

Mulder:
(quietly to Scully) So routine, it numbs the mind.

Scully:
(firmly) Mulder, we're not going to Nevada.

Mulder:
Come on, Scully. Just one quick side trip.

Scully:
No. Sorry, Mulder. We have a whole new assignment.

Mulder:
Running down people that buy fertilizer? This is scut work, bozo work - the FBI equivalent of being made to wear an orange jumpsuit and pick up trash by the side of the highway. They mean to humiliate us.

Scully:
Look, Mulder, like it or not, humiliated or not, we're on domestic terrorism now and, yes, this is... This is a punishment, but if we want to get back to where we want to be we have to follow orders. We can't freelance.

Mulder:
You saw that news report. What did you make of that?

Scully:
I think that the obvious assumption is that the woman was shot, regardless of what the police say. Maybe it was a sniper.

Mulder:
In the words of their captain, "she just sort of popped." And what about this guy who supposedly tried to take her hostage, her husband? Looked to me like he was trying to warn the cops before she died. Now, the sun will rise in America tomorrow regardless of whether or not we're at yet another farm investigating yet another enormous pile of doo-doo. We can be in and out in a day. Nobody has to know.

[Scully seems to consider the idea. Mulder waggles his eyebrows at her.]

[Mulder stops the car at a stoplight; Crump screams.]

Crump:
What are you doing?!

Mulder:
What? What am I doing?

Crump:
What the hell are you doing?!

Mulder:
(sarcastically) I'm composing a sonnet. I'm slowing down for a light!

Mulder:
Crump? Crump, what else can you tell me about what's happening to you?

Crump:
Mr. Crump. You call me by my last name, you say "mister" in front of it.

Mulder:
"Mister." I got you.

Crump:
Not Crump. Mr. Crump.

Mulder:
I can think of something else I'd like to call you. I could put "mister" in front of that, too if you'd like.

Crump:
You know, what kind of name is Mulder, anyway? What is that, like... like, Jewish?

Mulder:
(disbelieving) Excuse me?

Crump:
Jewish... It is, right?

Mulder:
(annoyed) It's Mr. Mulder to you, you peanut-picking bastard. Now, Mr. Crump what can you tell me about what's happening to you?

Mulder:
On behalf of the International Jewish Conspiracy, I've got to inform you that we're almost out of gas.

Crump:
Hey, uh... The Jew stuff? No offense. I mean, uh... A man can't help who he's born to.

Mulder:
(sarcastic) That was an apology, right? Gee, I don't know if I can see to drive my eyes are tearing up so bad.

Scully:
Lieutenant Breil? My name is Dana Scully. I called in regard to the electrical equipment the Navy is maintaining in the town of Montello.

Lieutenant Breil:
Right. I don't know if there's been some miscommunication between you and your Washington office, but, uh...

Scully:
My Washington office?

Lieutenant Breil:
Yeah. I was under the impression that I'd explained this to the FCC's satisfaction.

Scully:
Oh, I'm... I'm so sorry to make you run through it again, uh... For my official report to the, uh... To the FCC.

Scully:
(on phone) Mulder, are you okay?

Mulder:
(on phone) Yeah, aside from terminal cell phone withdrawal... That, and I got to pee.

AD Kersh:
"Justice department jet: 2.6 turbine hours round trip at $1,400 an hour. Car rental - over-mileage, out-of-state use penalties: $346. Compensation to one Walter R. Duncan for unauthorized use of his 1968 Caprice station wagon: $500."

Mulder:
Why don't you bill me?

AD Kersh:
I'll bill your partner instead. You too obviously relish the role of martyr.

Mulder:
Okay. So are we done here? Back to the bozo work investigating huge piles of manure?

AD Kersh:
You can always quit.

[Mulder looks at Scully; leaves the office, slams door.]

Scully:
Sir, Agent Mulder has been through a lot.

AD Kersh:
And you apologize for him a lot. I've noticed that about you.

Scully:
I'm not apologizing for this. Because of his work, the DOD is shutting down their antenna array in northeastern Nevada. Our participation in this case has saved lives.

AD Kersh:
I don't see you proving that. The Department of Defense admits no culpability whatsoever. Furthermore, they say the closing of the facility was coincidental.

Scully:
("yeah, right" tone) Right.

AD Kersh:
Don't misunderstand me, Agent. I don't care if you and your partner saved a school bus full of doe-eyed urchins on their way to Sunday bible camp. You no longer investigate X-Files. You are done and the sooner you and Mulder come to recognize that, the better for both of you.

Scully:
(mutters angrily as she leaves) Big piles of manure.

Mulder:
My name's Mulder. Fox Mulder.

Sailor:
That a name? Mulder?

Mulder:
I got ID in my pocket.

Sailor 2:
(pulling out and reading Mulder's badge) "Fox Mulder, Federal Bureau of Investigation." Sorry, mate, never heard of it! [They begin dragging Mulder below decks.]

Mulder:
(surprised) Never heard of it?

Sailor:
Tell you what we do with foxes. (laugh) Care to know?

Mulder:
You never heard of the FBI?

First Mate:
Sir, the Germans, sir. They've taken control of the bridge. Steering a course for their homeland.

Captain Marburg:
Not on the watch of captain Yip Harburg, they're not. Lock the prisoner up in here.

Mulder:
It's okay. The war's over. Let them take you to Germany. They make nice cars.

[They all ignore him and leave.]

Mulder:
(to himself, grinning, thrilled) This is unbelievable.

[Mulder is moving across the dancefloor when one of the dancing couples bumps into him.]

WOMAN:
(accusingly) Excuse me.

[Mulder sees that the woman is a 1939 version of Scully, wearing a long dress and dancing with an older man. He grabs her arm, surprised.]

Mulder:
Scully?

1939 Scully:
(boldly) I suggest you get your Nazi paws off me before you get one in the kisser.

Mulder:
(lifting his hat so she can see him) Scully, it's me, Mulder.

1939 Scully:
Oh, you speak English, do you? Well, how'd you like to see the stars on the American flag? (holds her fist in front of his face)

Mulder:
(hurt, confused) I'm not a Nazi.

1939 Scully:
Oh, sure. You just look like one, right? (returns to dancing)

Mulder:
I had to steal this uniform! (putting his hands on her back) Scully?

Singer:
(stops singing, points at Mulder) Hier ist der Mann, den sie wollen! (Here is the man you want!)

Nazi:
(fires gun into air) Halt! Hände hoch! Hände hoch! (Stop! Hands up! Hands up!)

[Mulder looks at 1939 Scully for help.]

1939 Scully:
(translating) He said, "Put your hands up."

[Mulder puts his hands up; is grabbed by Nazis]

Mulder:
(to 1939 Scully) You see, I told you.

[Scully sitting at her desk; the Lone Gunmen approach.]

Scully:
What are you guys doing here?

Frohike:
Mulder's in trouble.

Langly:
Big trouble.

Scully:
What do you mean?

Byers:
Let's take a walk.

Scully:
Okay, where are we going?

Frohike:
The walls have ears.

Scully:
(impatient) I have ears. Will you tell me what's going on?

Scully:
Sir, I couldn't waste time explaining myself to your assistant.

Skinner:
Tell me what is so urgent.

Scully:
It's about Agent Mulder. He's done something incredibly rash.

Skinner:
I can't.

Scully:
He may be lost at sea.

Skinner:
I can't, Agent Scully.

Scully:
You can't what?

Skinner:
I can't help you. There's nothing I can do.

Scully:
This isn't for me; it's for Agent Mulder.

Skinner:
My hands are tied. I'm not your direct superior any longer.

Scully:
Don't you want to know what this is about?

[They walk back toward door.]

Skinner:
No, I don't. I don't even what to hear it.

Scully:
(pleading) Sir, this is about a man's life.

Skinner:
(louder) I'm not allowed to have contact with you - any contact with either you or Mulder.

Skinner's secretary:
She walked right past me, sir.

[Scully closes the door between the offices.]

Skinner:
You're out of line, Scully.

Scully:
No, sir, you're out of line. I'm sorry, but I'm coming to you for help and I've got nowhere else to go. I would hope that after everything that we have been through that you would at least have the courtesy and the decency and not to mention the respect to listen to what I have to say. Now, all I need is information. (Skinner takes note; glances at it.) You don't have to do anything else. Look, sir, if you know anybody at the Office of Naval Intelligence it would be of great help.

Skinner:
(pauses; hands back the note) I could lose my job, my pension, I could even be subject to legal action.

[Scully sighs, exasperated; Skinner slams the door and holds it shut.]

Skinner:
Use your head, Scully. It'll save your ass.

Scully:
Save your own ass, sir. You'll save your head along with it.

[Scully exits the elevator and enters the X-Files office.]

Scully:
(direct) I want you to do me a favor. It's not negotiable. Either you do it or I kill you. You understand?

[Spender, alone, gets up and comes over to her]

Spender:
You okay, Agent Scully?

Scully:
No, I'm not. I'm a gun ready to go off so don't test me, Spender. Don't even think about trying to weasel me.

Spender:
What is it that you need?

Scully:
(writing it down) Navy AWACS SLAR 100 K swath. South-southeast of Bermuda. I am looking for a boat, maybe a ship. 1939 luxury liner.

Spender:
1939?

Scully:
Don't ask too many questions. I don't care what you do or who you do or who you have to grease, I need that information and I need it now. Are we clear on that?

Spender:
Crystal.

Scully:
And, Agent Spender... If you're not back in a hurry I am going to hunt you down, and so help me God... (makes a fist)

Spender:
Right.

[Scully runs into Kersh's secretary.]

Kersh's secretary:
Oh, Agent Scully.

Scully:
I was just, uh...

Kersh's secretary:
I was sent to come get you.

Scully:
Yeah, I was waiting for Agent Spender, he was, uh... I'm supposed to pick up a delivery from him.

Kersh's secretary:
Agent Spender is with Assistant Director Kersh.

Scully:
(furious) That rat bastard!

[Scully runs to elevator.]

Scully:
(to herself) Stupid!

Skinner:
(joining her in the elevator) I've been trying to reach you. I got the information you needed.

[Scully takes the paper, grabs him and kisses him on the lips.]

Scully:
How?

Skinner:
Don't even ask.

Scully:
(grateful) Sir, what you've done...

Skinner:
Is save Mulder's ass. I know.

Scully:
Yes.

[Doors open. Other agents are in the hall.]

Skinner:
(sternly) And if you ever ask me to break policy or protocol I will have you written up, wrapped up and tossed out of the FBI for good. Am I understood, Agent Scully?

Scully:
Yes. (gets back on the elevator; excited) Yes!

[Another agent is also in the elevator; he looks baffled at her joy.]

Sailor:
Oi... American, right? Saved your life, mate. Krauts don't want no reason to bring you Yanks into the war.

Mulder:
I got two words for you, buddy-- Pearl Harbor.

Sailor:
What?

Mulder:
After Poland, Hitler's on his way to Denmark, Holland and France with a few stops in between. The French all but roll over on us, the Italians seize their opportunity and the Japanese come through the back door. It's a long, bloody story. It fortunately has a happy ending.

Sailor:
We win?

Mulder:
Yeah, you come out on the side of history with no small amount of help from us. Not much to apologize over the next 50 years except for maybe the Spice Girls.

[Mulder and 1939 Scully run out of ballroom and into hall.]

Mulder:
(taking her hand) Come on.

Nazi:
Stehen bleiben! Stehen bleiben... Oder ich erschiesse Sie. Hände hoch... Hinter Ihren Kopf. Machen Sies! (Stand still! Stand still. Or I will shoot you. Hands up... behind your heads. Do it!)

[They stop running; 1939 Scully sighs; both put their hands behind their heads.]

1939 Scully:
Now what, Einstein?

Nazi:
Machen Sies! (Do it!)

[Gunshot; both jump then turn to see the Nazi dead on the floor. 1939 Skinner appears.]

1939 Skinner:
God bless America. Now get your asses out of here.

1939 Scully:
So, if I don't turn this ship around...?

Mulder:
In all likelihood, I won't exist.

1939 Scully:
(disbelieving) Oh...

Mulder:
And neither will you.

1939 Scully:
Okay...

Mulder:
So, in case we never meet again...

[Mulder grabs her and kisses he; she kisses back. She looks at him; pulls back her right fist and punches him. Mulder rubs his jaw appreciatively.]

Mulder:
I was expecting a left.

[Mulder lying on his side in a hospital bed, unconscious; Scully leans over him.]

Scully:
Mulder? Mulder, it's me. Hmm?

Mulder:
(waking) Where am I? (tries to sit up)

Scully:
You're in a hospital.

Mulder:
Ooooo.

Scully:
Lie still.

Mulder:
I feel... Like hell.

Scully:
I don't blame you. You've been through the wringer, I'd say.

Mulder:
What happened to me?

Scully:
You did something incredibly stupid.

Mulder:
What did I do?

Scully:
You went looking for a ship, Mulder. In the Bermuda Triangle.

Mulder:
Say that again?

[Lone Gunmen enter the room.]

Frohike:
Gilligan awakes.

Mulder:
You were there.

Scully:
Hmm?

Mulder:
You were there, Scully.

[Skinner enters.]

Langly:
(to the others) He's delirious.

Mulder:
(referring to Skinner) And he was there, too.

Skinner:
(dropping a bouquet of flowers on the nightstand) Right - Me and my dog Toto.

Mulder:
No, you were there with the Nazis.

Scully:
Mulder, will you settle down? It's an order.

Skinner:
Not that he takes orders...

[Mulder rests the back of his hand on Scully's waist which is against his bed rail. Is happy, but obviously drugged.]

Mulder:
You saved the world, Scully.

Scully:
Yeah... You're right. I did.

Frohike:
What kind of drugs is he on?

Langly:
I want some.

Mulder:
No, no, no... The Queen Anne- I found it. You were there with Thor's Hammer. I told you you had to turn the ship around and then I jumped overboard.

Scully:
Yeah, I bet you did. The boat that you were on was busted into a million pieces. And as for the Queen Anne... it was nothing more than a ghost ship.

Mulder:
No, no, no. You and I were on that ship, Scully. In 1939.

Skinner:
Get some rest, Mulder, 'cause when you get out of here I'm going to kick your butt but good.

[Mulder grins, Skinner and the Gunmen leave the room.]

Mulder:
I would've never seen you again. But you believed me.

Scully:
In your dreams. (as if talking to a child) Mulder, I want you to close your eyes and I want you to think to yourself "there's no place like home."

Mulder:
Mmm. (chuckles) [Scully starts to leave; he calls her back.] Hey, Scully. (leans up on his elbow)

Scully:
[Comes back and leans close to his face.] Yes?

[Long pause. They look deeply at one another.]

Mulder:
I love you.

Scully:
Oh, brother... (turns away and leaves the room)

[Mulder watches her go; starts to lie down, but as his face touches the pillow he leans back up in slight pain and rubs his jaw where 1939 Scully hit him. He gazes after her and smiles.]

Mulder:
(pointing at a sign) Milepost 134. Two miles to go.

Scully:
(dryly) I'm all a-tingle. (they share a look) So, Mulder, this supposed clandestine source who's contacted you how do we know that he's not just another crackpot whose encyclopedic knowledge of extraterrestrial life isn't derived exclusively from reruns of Star Trek?

Scully:
Mulder, it's the dim hope of finding that proof that's kept us in this car, or one very much like it for more nights than I care to remember. (Mulder looks at her fondly) Driving hundreds if not thousands of miles through neighborhoods and cities and towns where people are raising families and buying homes and playing with their kids and their dogs, and... in short, living their lives. While we - we - we just keep driving.

Mulder:
What is your point?

Scully:
Don't you ever just want to stop? Get out of the damn car? Settle down and live something approaching a normal life?

Mulder:
(defensive) This is a normal life. [Scully smiles to herself.]

Mulder (as Morris):
Okay, well, uh... Everybody have a, uh... a good day at your various, uh... (realizes no one is paying attention) All right. (Turns to leave.)

Chris:
Mom!

Mrs Fletcher:
Morris! What about Chris?

Mulder (as Morris):
Chris?

Chris:
You said you'd give me an answer today.

Mrs Fletcher:
Her nose. You said you'd give her an answer about her nose.

[Family waits in anticipation. This is obviously a very important decision.]

Mulder (as Morris):
Um... I think... [Chris gives him a little girl look.] I think she's a little young for plastic surgery don't you think? [Chris cries again.]

Mrs Fletcher:
Oh, for God's sake, Morris - a nose ring! She said she wants a nose ring!

Chris:
(to Mulder) I hate you! I wish you were dead.

Mulder (as Morris):
Well, my work here is done. Have a nice day.

Mulder (as Morris):
[Looks into "his" closet, filled with black suits and white shirts.] Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Johnny Cash.

[Mulder is again asleep on the recliner; Joanne wakes him.]

Joanne Fletcher:
This is not a marriage. It's a farce.

Mulder (as Morris):
What?

Joanne Fletcher:
You're not attracted to me anymore. I disgust you, don't i?

Mulder (as Morris):
No. No. It's not... It's not that you're disgusting. I-i-it's just that...

Joanne Fletcher:
It's just that you don't want to ever make love to me ever again, that's all. That and you mumble something about Scully in your sleep. Who is Scully, Morris? Is it another woman?

Mulder (as Morris):
Does Scully sound like a woman's name to you?

Joanne Fletcher:
Who is Scully? Tell me.

Mulder (as Morris):
Oh, Joanne, I'm sure I've told you many times in the past that there are things about my work that unfortunately, I have to keep a secret.

Joanne Fletcher:
Oh, no, buster. That's not going to fly this time.

Mulder (as Morris):
My point is that there are a lot of things you don't know about me. And... I've just... I've been under a lot of pressure lately. I mean, up is down and black is white. I don't know where I stand anymore. I don't even know... who I am really anymore. I just... I know for sure that I am not the man you married. I'm just not. And I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry.

Joanne Fletcher:
Oh, god, Morris. I didn't know. They have that pill now. (understanding laughter) We can work this out. There's other ways to be intimate.

[Mulder looks horrified; she hugs him. The doorbell rings.]

Scully:
I'm sorry. Uh, Morris Fletcher?

Mulder (as Morris):
(quietly) Scully, it's me. It's Mulder. [Mulder closes the door and pulls Scully into the driveway.]

Scully:
(nervous) You're, uh... You're the man from the other night? From Area 51?

Joanne Fletcher:
(yelling from inside the house) Liar!

Scully:
You phoned me. Would you mind telling me what this is about?

Mulder (as Morris):
I'm Mulder. I'm really Mulder. I switched bodies, places, identities with this man Morris Fletcher the man that you think is Mulder, but he's not. (sees his reflection in the car window - of Morris) Of course you don't believe me. Why was I expecting anything different? Your full name is Dana Katherine Scully. Your badge number is... Hell! I don't know your badge number. Your mother's name is Margaret. Your brother's name is Bill Jr. He's in the Navy and he hates me. (no response from Scully) Lately, for lunch, you've been having this six-ounce cup of yogurt, plain yogurt, into which you stir bee pollen because you're on a bee pollen kick even though I tell you you're a scientist and you should know better.

Joanne Fletcher:
(opens the door and dumps all of Morris' black suits onto the front steps) Cheater!

Scully:
Look... Any of that information could have been gathered by anyone.

Mulder (as Morris):
Even that yogurt thing? That is so you. That is so Scully. Well, it's good to know you haven't changed. That's somewhat comforting.

Morris:
(voiceover) Once upon a time, there was a guy with the improbable name of Fox Mulder. He started out life happily enough, as these things go. He had parents who loved him, a cute kid sister. He had a roof over his head, got all his flu shots, had all his fingers and toes and aside from being stuck with the name "Fox" which probably taught him how to fight - or not - he pretty much led a normal life. But the worst thing by far - the biggest kick in the slacks this kid Fox ever got - was what happened to his sister. One day, she just disappeared. Now, Fox buckled down and worked his butt off. Graduated top of his class at Oxford then top of his class at the FBI academy. None of that hard work made up for his sister, though. It was just a way of putting her out of his mind. Finally, the way I figure it, he went out of his mind and he's been that way ever since. Fox Mulder pissed away a brilliant career, lost the respect of supervisors and friends and now lives his life shaking his fist at the sky and muttering about conspiracies to anyone who will listen. If you ask me, he's one step away from pushing a baby carriage filled with tin cans down the street. But now, all that's going to change.

[Morris (as Mulder) enters with groceries; looks around the apartment.]

Morris (as Mulder):
Uh-huh. (sets the bags down and gets out some candles) A little mood lighting for the bedroom. (looks around; pauses) No bedroom.

[Goes over to a closed door; tries to open it several times with no result; finally gets it open. Several boxes and porno magazines fall out; the room is shown to be filled with boxes, old furniture and papers.]

Morris (as Mulder):
This guy hasn't been laid in ten years.

Mulder (as Morris):
Joanne, listen to me. There's something I got to tell you.

Joanne Morris:
I've heard enough from you for one lifetime, Morris. Go tell it to that tramp of yours, that Scully, whatshername.

Mulder (as Morris):
Dana Scully. Special Agent Dana Scully.

Joanne Morris:
Special Tramp Dana Scully.

Mulder (as Morris):
She's my partner, Joanne.

Joanne Morris:
I'm supposed to be your partner.

Mulder (as Morris):
My name is not Morris Fletcher. It's Fox Mulder. Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI. Dana Scully is my FBI partner. I am not your husband we are not married, we are complete strangers and I have a whole other life that I'm desperately trying to get back to.

Joanne Morris:
You know, Morris, most men, when they have a mid-life crisis - they go out and buy themselves a sports car. They don't run around calling themselves Fox.

[Scully and Morris (as Mulder) pull up in their car next to Mulder (as Morris). Scully gets out to stand next to Mulder; Morris stays in the car.]

Mulder (as Morris):
You don't look too happy. Don't tell me I'm going to have to put two kids through school.

Scully:
(hesitantly) That is you in there, Mulder, isn't it? (Mulder nods; Scully folds her arms, hugging herself) I, uh... I just got off the phone with Frohike. They were able to download and analyze the crash data and, yes, there was an anomalous event that night.

Mulder (as Morris):
And how do I get back?

Scully:
(not easy for her to say) Well, that's just it. It's all about random moments in time... About a series of variables approaching an event horizon. And even if we... could recreate that moment if we could sabotage another craft... Mulder, if we were... If we were off... If the event were off by even one millisecond...

Mulder (as Morris):
I might wind up with my head in a rock.

Scully:
Something like that, yeah. (long pause)

Mulder (as Morris):
(depressed) What about him? I mean, me. Whatever. Whoever he is.

Scully:
Agent Mulder has become AD Kersh's new golden boy. He's been tasked with returning the flight data recorder that he and I stole. The son of a bitch confesses to Kersh even more than I do to my priest. I'm just tagging along for the ride.

Mulder (as Morris):
What do you mean, "just tagging along?"

Scully:
I'm out of the Bureau. I've been censured and relieved of my position.

Mulder (as Morris):
No. You can explain it to them like you explained it to me. You have the data. You can make them understand. You can get your job back.

Scully:
(can't help but smile; looks up at him fondly) I'd kiss you if you weren't so damn ugly. (Mulder smiles back)

Morris (as Mulder):
(honking the horn; yelling out the window) Take a picture - it'll last longer!

[Mulder and Scully pause and look at the car.]

Mulder (as Morris):
(through clenched teeth) If I... shoot him, is that murder or suicide?

Scully:
Neither, if I do it first. (Squeezes his arm, then walks toward the car. He stops her.)

Mulder (as Morris):
Hey, Scully...

[He holds out his closed hand to her; she holds out her palm. He drops a handful of sunflower seeds into her hand; takes one back and eats it. They look at each other. Mulder watches, depressed, as Scully drives away.]

Mulder:
(on phone) Mulder.

Scully:
(on phone; in her office) Mulder, it's me. I just wanted to let you know that we slipped under Kersh's radar. Our little field trip to Nevada went unnoticed.

Mulder:
Oh, yeah?

Scully:
Mulder, I'm sorry that your confidential source didn't pan out.

Mulder:
Well, I guess you were right, Scully. Just another crackpot who watches too much Star Trek.

Scully:
Good night.

Mulder:
Hey, Scully? I, uh, know it's not your normal life, but... Thanks for coming out there with me.

Scully:
(surprised, pleased) You're welcome.

Scully:
Check out lines were worse than rush hour on the 95. If I heard "Silent Night" one more time, I was going to start taking hostages.

Scully:
Let's hear it. Give me the details.

Mulder:
Look, if you've got Christmas stuff to do I don't want to... you know...

Scully:
Mulder, I drove all the way out here. I might as well know why. Right?

Mulder:
I just thought you'd be more... curious.

Scully:
Who lives in the house?

Mulder:
No one.

Scully:
Then who are we staking out?

Mulder:
The former occupants.

Scully:
They've come back?

Mulder:
That's the story.

Scully:
I see. (dryly) The dark, gothic manor... the, uh, omnipresent low fog hugging the thicket of overgrowth... Wait- is that a hound I hear baying out on the moors?

Mulder:
No. Actually that was a left cheek sneak.

Mulder:
(mysteriously) Christmas, 1917. It was a time of dark, dark despair. American soldiers were dying at an ungodly rate in a war-torn Europe while at home, a deadly strain of the flu virus attacked young and old alike. Tragedy was a visitor on every doorstep while a creeping hopelessness set in with every man, woman and child. It was a time of dark, dark despair.

Scully:
(unimpressed) You said that.

Mulder:
But here at 1501 Larkspur Lane for a pair of star-crossed lovers tragedy came not from war or pestilence - not by the boot heel or the bombardier - but by their own innocent hand.

Scully:
Go on.

Mulder:
His name was Maurice. He was a... a brooding but heroic young man beloved of Lyda, a sublime beauty with a light that seemed to follow her wherever she went. They were likened to two angels descended from heaven whom the gods could not protect from the horrors being visited upon this cold, grey earth.

Scully:
And what happened to them?

Mulder:
Driven by a tragic fear of separation they forged a lovers' pact so that they might spend eternity together and not spend one precious Christmas apart.

Scully:
They killed themselves?

Mulder:
And their ghosts haunt this house every Christmas Eve. (Scully laughs) I just gave myself chills.

Scully:
It's a good story, Mulder, and very well told, but I don't believe it.

[Mulder and Scully are searching a haunted house]

Scully:
These are tricks that the mind plays. They are ingrained cliches from a thousand different horror films. When we hear a sound, we get a chill. We-we see a shadow and we allow ourselves to imagine something that an otherwise rational person would discount out of hand. The whole... the whole idea of a benevolent entity fits perfectly with what I'm saying. That a spirit would materialize or return for no other purpose than to show itself is silly and ridiculous. I mean, what it really shows is how silly and ridiculous we have become in believing such things. I mean, that... that we can ignore all natural laws about the corporeal body... that-that we witness these spirits clad in-in their own shabby outfits with the same old haircuts and hairstyles never aging, never... never in search of more comfortable surroundings-- it actually ends up saying more about the living than it does about the dead.

Mulder:
Mm-hmm.

Scully:
I mean, Mulder, it doesn't take an advanced degree in psychology to understand the... the unconscious yearnings that these imaginings satisfy. You know, the-the longing for immortality the hope that there is something beyond this mortal coil... that-that we might never be long without our loved ones. I mean, these are powerful, powerful desires. I mean, they're the very essence of what make us human. The very essence of Christmas, actually.

[A door slightly opens by itself]

Mulder:
Tell me you're not afraid.

Scully:
All right. I'm afraid... but it's an irrational fear.

[Mulder and Scully have just found a corpse.]

Scully:
You know what's weird?

Mulder:
What?

Scully:
Mulder, she's wearing my outfit.

Mulder:
How embarrassing.

Maurice:
You drink? Take drugs?

Mulder:
No.

Maurice:
Get high?

Mulder:
No.

Maurice:
Are you overcome by the impulse to make everyone believe you? (Mulder looks surprised) I'm in the field of mental health. I specialize in disorders and manias related to pathological behavior as it pertains to the paranormal.

Mulder:
Wow. I didn't know such a thing existed.

Maurice:
My specialty is in what I call soul prospectors - a crossaxial classification I've codified by extensive interaction with visitors like yourself. I've found you all tend to fall into pretty much the same category.

Mulder:
And what category is that?

Maurice:
Narcissistic, overzealous, self-righteous egomaniac.

Mulder:
That's a category?

Maurice:
You kindly think of yourself as single-minded but you're prone to obsessive compulsiveness, workaholism, antisocialism... Fertile fields for the descent into total wacko breakdown.

Mulder:
I don't think that pegs me exactly.

Maurice:
Oh, really? Waving a gun around my house? Huh? Raving like a lunatic about some imaginary brick wall? (Mulder looks over at the brick wall in the doorway) You've probably convinced yourself you've seen aliens. You know why you think you see the things you do?

Mulder:
(like it's obvious) Because I have seen them?

Maurice:
'Cause you're a lonely man. A lonely man chasing paramasturbatory illusions that you believe will give your life meaning and significance and which your pathetic social maladjustment makes impossible for you to find elsewhere. You probably consider yourself passionate, serious, misunderstood. Am I right?

Mulder:
"Paramasturbatory"?

Maurice:
Most people would rather stick their fingers in a wall socket than spend a minute with you.

Mulder:
All right, now just, uh... Just back off for a second.

Maurice:
Spend every Christmas this way? Alone?

Mulder:
(confident) I'm not alone.

Maurice:
More self-delusion.

Mulder:
No, I came here with my partner. She's somewhere in the house.

Maurice:
Behind a brick wall? (Mulder smiles and nods) How'd you get her to come with you? Steal her car keys? (Mulder's smile fades) You know why you do it - listen endlessly to her droning rationalizations. 'Cause you're afraid. Afraid of the loneliness. Am I right?

Mulder:
I'd just like to find my partner.

Lyda:
I think maybe the ghosts have been playing tricks on you.

Scully:
I don't believe in ghosts.

Lyda:
Then what are you doing here?

Scully:
It's my partner.

Lyda:
He believes in ghosts?

Scully:
Yeah.

Lyda:
Oh, you poor child. You must have an awful small life. Spending your Christmas Eve with him... Running around chasing things you don't even believe in.

Scully:
Don't come any closer.

Lyda:
(coming closer) I can see it in your face... The fear... The conflicted yearnings... A subconscious desire to find fulfillment through another. Intimacy through co-dependency.

Scully:
What?

Lyda:
Maybe you repress the truth about why you're really here pretending it's out of duty or loyalty-- unable to admit your dirty little secret. Your only joy in life is proving him wrong.

Scully:
You don't know me.

Lyda:
I hope you're not expecting any great advantages to all this.

Mulder:
To all what?

Lyda:
I'm assuming you came here with similar misconceptions.

Mulder:
We came here looking for you.

Lyda:
Oh, yeah? You didn't come here to be together for eternity?

Mulder:
(chuckling) No.

Lyda:
Because you're filled with despair and woeful Christmas melancholy?

Mulder:
Why?

Lyda:
(sighing) Maybe it was your partner then.

Mulder:
(folding his arms) What about her?

Lyda:
You knew this house was haunted.

Mulder:
Yeah.

Lyda:
Maybe you two should have discussed your real feelings before you came out here. I'm speaking from experience.

Lyda:
I don't show my hole to just anyone.

Mulder:
(grimaces, looks away) Why are you showing it to me?

Lyda:
The bodies under the floor - maybe that was just some kind of Jungian symbolism. Or maybe... there's a secret lovers' pact.

Mulder:
(sighs; smiles) We're not lovers.

Lyda:
And this isn't a pure science. But you're both so attractive and there'll be a lot of time to work that out.

[Mulder is still dressed, watching TV through the night; there's a knock at the door; he opens it to show Scully, also still dressed.]

Scully:
I, uh... I couldn't sleep. I was, um... (sighs)

Mulder:
(puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in to the apartment) Come in. Aren't you supposed to be opening Christmas gifts with your family?

Scully:
Mulder... None of that really happened out there tonight... That was all in our heads, right?

Mulder:
(unsure) I-it must have been.

Scully:
Mmm. Not that, uh, my only joy in life is proving you wrong.

Mulder:
When have you proved me wrong?

Scully:
Well... Why else would you want me out there with you?

Mulder:
You didn't want to be there?

[She doesn't respond; they both look thoughtful for a moment.]

Mulder:
(self-analyzing) Oh, that's, um... That's self-righteous and... narcissistic of me to say, isn't it?

Scully:
No, I mean... Maybe I did want to be out there with you.

Mulder:
(they look at each other for a moment) Now, um... I know we said that we weren't going to exchange gifts but, uh... I got you a little something. (holds out a present to her - the only wrapped gift shown in the apartment the whole episode)

Scully:
Mulder...

Mulder:
Merry Christmas.

Scully:
Well, I got you a little something, too.

[She hands him his gift, and he chuckles and shakes it. She grins and they run over to the couch to open their presents happily.]

Scully:
(on phone) Mulder, we are supposed to be doing background checks, not chasing X-Files.

Mulder:
(on phone) Scully, Spender just round filed this case - it's unconscionable.

Scully:
And what do you call rooting through his trash?

Mulder:
Like that's any different from the assignment we're stuck with.

Scully:
"We," Mulder? I'm stuck with it. You're not here.

[Wayne comes out of the house to see Mulder encouraging the three boys to play with his car.]

Wayne:
(annoyed) I want those kids out of my car.

Mulder:
(cheerfully) Okay, speed racers. That's enough driver's education for today.

Mayor:
Agent Mulder, welcome to Kroner. I'm Jim Gilmore, the mayor. We spoke on the phone.

Mulder:
Nice to meet you, sir.

Mayor:
If I'd have known you was bringing the missus, I would've arranged for fancier accommodations.

[Mulder purses his lips, smiles, and looks away as if to say "I'm staying away from that one."]

Scully:
(professional) I'm Agent Scully, Agent Mulder's partner. I'm... sure the accommodations will be just fine.

Scully:
Well, sir, if this man Mootz could, in fact, somehow produce rain then what's the crime?

Mayor:
I believe Daryl's causing the drought... so he can charge folks for the rain.

Scully:
And this is what you told Agent Mulder when you spoke earlier?

Mayor:
Yes, ma'am. He seemed real eager to help us.

[Scully looks at Mulder; he tries to look innocent.]

Sheila:
Oh! We were beginning to worry that you wouldn't make it. Is this your first time in a TV studio? How exciting. I couldn't be happier for the two of you.

Scully:
I'm not su-

Sheila:
(runs over to get Holman, then brings him back to them) Holman, I'd like to introduce you to the Gundersons.

Holman:
(shaking their hands) Congratulations! I hope you have a truly romantic getaway.

Sheila:
Aren't you glad you watch Channel Five weather?

Scully:
(showing badge) We're Agents Mulder and Scully. We're with the FBI.

Sheila:
FBI? Oh, my goodness! I thought you were the "Watch the Weather and Win" contest winners.

Holman:
See, we haven't had any rain in months and... well, people tend to blame the messenger.

Sheila:
Oh, there's the Gundersons. Over here!

[The Gundersons, an older, plain-looking farm couple come over. They look nothing like Mulder and Scully.]

Mulder:
(smiling at Scully) It's like looking in a mirror.

Mulder:
How do you explain your unique ability?

Daryl:
I don't. It's complicated.

Mulder:
Try me. I watch the Weather Channel.

Daryl:
If you're wondering did I ask for this gift no, sir, I did not, no more than I asked to lose this here limb. But I should've expected it and I'll tell you why. Because I come from a long line of healing people. I'm a spiritual man, in touch... with the really real. The... the unseen real.

Hotel manager:
Oh, miss, we moved your boyfriend's things into your room.

Scully:
He's my partner, and we prefer separate rooms.

Hotel manager:
Oh, old-fashioned are you, huh? Well, we're booked solid with the high school reunion. You can take it or leave it.

Mulder:
Scully, I don't think it's a coincidence that a cow gets hurled at me just as we're down here investigating the weather.

Scully:
(checking his scalp and forehead) Mulder, did they check you for head trauma?

Mulder:
I'm telling you, that cow had my name on it.

Scully:
(on phone) Mulder, it's me.

Mulder:
(on phone) I'm on my way.

Scully:
I'm not so sure. Have you looked outside lately? It's pea soup. Our plane can't take off until after this fog lifts.

Mulder:
Fog? (looks accusingly at Holman) Holman!

[Holman shrugs.]

Scully:
Holman?

Mulder:
Yeah... he wants advice. Dating advice.

Scully:
Dating advice? From whom?

Mulder:
Yours truly. (VERY long pause) Hello? Hey, Scully. Scully, you there?

Scully:
I heard you. Mulder, when was the last time you went on a date?

Mulder:
(pauses; in a controlled way, one word at a time) I will talk to you later.

Scully:
(to herself, after hanging up) The blind leading the blind.

Holman:
I've been envious of men like you my whole life. Based on your physical bearing, I'd assumed you were... More experienced. I mean... You spend every day with agent Scully a beautiful, enchanting woman. And you two never, uh...? (no response from Mulder) I... confess I find that shocking. I... I've seen how you two gaze at one another.

[Long pause. Mulder puts his arm on Holman's shoulders; they walk toward Sheila's office.]

Mulder:
This is about you, Holman. I'm here to help you. I'm perfectly happy with my friendship with Agent Scully.

Holman:
So according to your theory I walk in there, tell her I love her and the drought will end?

Mulder:
Just tell her how you feel. (Holman starts walking inside) And Holman. I do not gaze at Scully.

Scully:
(about Sheila and Holman) Well, it seems to me that the best relationships - the ones that last - are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is... suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with. (seems to realize she could be talking about herself and Mulder)

[All the couples at the reunion are dancing and kissing, including Holman and Sheila.]

Mulder:
I didn't know reunions could be so...

Scully:
Wet?

[Holman and Sheila approach.]

Mulder:
Well, how'd it go?

Holman:
You should try it sometime.

SKINNER:
(voiceover) Every minute of every day we choose. Who we are. Who we forgive. Who we defend and protect. To choose a side or to walk the line. To play the middle. To straddle the fence between what is and what should be. This was the course I chose. Trying to find the delicate balance of interests that can never exist. Choosing by not choosing. Defending a center which cannot hold. So death chose for me.

Mulder:
What happened today? Anything out of the ordinary?

Skinner:
I'm not going to play this game.

Scully:
Look, it could've been anything. It could have been the slightest touch, or a handshake.

Mulder:
This morning, you woke up...

Skinner:
I woke up.

Mulder:
Alone?

Skinner:
(defensive) Yes. Alone.

Tunisian diplomat:
(something Arabic and angry)

Mulder:
Yeah, so's your mom.

Skinner's assistant:
(hearing someone going through Skinner's things in his office, opens the door) Sir? Is that you? (sees that it's actually Mulder) Agent Mulder!

Mulder:
Hey, do you have the key to this drawer?

Mulder:
(looking at hairs from a blonde wig) Don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful.

[Scully enters Skinner's room at the hospital. He looks very sick, but smiles as she enters.]

Scully:
Sir, there's something I'd like to try. It's a treatment called therapeutic plasmapheresis. It requires filtering all of the blood in your body. It's a radical procedure and there is a danger that your body might go into shock.

Skinner:
I'm in your hands. (weakly) I think I owe you an apology, Scully. You and Mulder.

Scully:
Sir?

Skinner:
I've been lying here thinking. Your quest... it should have been mine.

Scully:
What do you mean?

Skinner:
If I die now, I die in vain. I have nothing to show for myself. My life...

Scully:
Sir, you know that's not true.

Skinner:
It is. I can see now that... I always played it safe. I wouldn't take sides. Wouldn't let you and Mulder... pull me in.

Scully:
You've been our ally more times than I can say.

Skinner:
Not the kind of ally that I could have been. (Scully touches his wrist gently)

Mulder:
So they're splitting us up, huh?

Scully:
(firmly) No.

Mulder:
No?

Scully:
This is a one-time thing.

Mulder:
Who told you that? Obviously, if you do a good job they're not going to stick you back here. (Scully sees Ritter coming in) Right?

Agent Ritter:
Agent Scully, we're all set.

Scully:
Peyton Ritter, this is Fox Mulder.

Agent Ritter:
It's a pleasure to meet you, Fox.

Mulder:
(stays seated; polite, but unenthusiastic) A pleasure to meet you... Peyton.

Scully:
We should get going.

Agent Ritter:
Off to New York.

[The two of them leave; Mulder watches them go wistfully.]

Scully:
(on phone) Scully.

Mulder:
(on phone, disguising his voice jokingly) Hi. My name is Fox Mulder. We used to sit next to each other at the FBI. (both smile)

Scully:
(on phone) I don't know what to think. (looks up as Fellig passes her) He's, uh... unusual.

Mulder:
(on phone) As in he, uh, plugs up like a cork when you stab him? (looking at an image of Fellig's stab wounds on his computer)

Scully:
Mulder, where are you getting this stuff?

Mulder:
Well, young man Ritter has been sending progress reports to Kersh. My computer may have inadvertently intercepted a few of those. He's got nice things to say about you, though... mostly. Why don't you let me do a little background check on Fellig for you.

Scully:
Mulder...

Mulder:
Come on. It's, you know... it's what I do now. I'm getting good at it.

[Scully sighs.]

Scully:
He's right. Tell me, Ritter, did he have any help concocting that story?

Agent Ritter:
(defensive) Look, Fellig is a murderer. Whether or not he did this specific one, I don't care-- not if it buys me a few days in the box with him.

Scully:
No judge is going to issue a warrant based on this.

Agent Ritter:
No, no, no. I know the judge. We'll have it by noon. (she stares at him in shock, then turns to leave) You know, Kersh warned me about you.

Scully:
Uh, he did?

Agent Ritter:
Yeah - you and your partner. God knows his reputation precedes him so I guess I should have seen this coming. You muck up my case, and Kersh'll hear about it. Are we clear, Dana?

Scully:
(coldly correcting him) Scully. (cell phone rings) And we're done with this conversation.

Mulder:
(on phone) Hey, Scully, uh, how's that X-File coming? And before you tell me that it's not an X-File...

Scully:
(on phone) It is.

Mulder:
What happened?

Scully:
Alfred Fellig seems to know an awful lot about death.

Mulder:
Oh, yeah? Well, that's not surprising, given that he's reached the ripe old age of 149.

Mulder:
Want to know what L.H. Rice's birthday is? April 4, 1849. I'm not good at math, but I'm figuring that's a whole lot of candles on the cake.

[A group of men are in a basketball court playing, including Mulder. He makes a basket; stops when Scully enters the gym.]

Basketball player:
(to Mulder) Hey, Milk, let's play ball. (Mulder waits for Scully to walk closer; player is irritated) Yo, Homestyle, cough up the rock.

[Mulder throws the ball over his shoulder; catches it when thrown back and casually makes a basket.]

Mulder:
Game.

Basketball player:
(shaking his hand) Oh, no, no. Aw, it don't work like that.

Mulder:
(joining Scully, ignoring the game) Hey, Homegirl, word up.

Scully:
Mulder it's my distinct impression that you just cheated. And that you're not coming in again today.

Mulder:
Oh, Scully, I got game.

Scully:
Yeah, you got so much game I'm wondering if you have any work left in you.

Mulder:
No, I'm ready to J-O-B just not on some jagoff shoeshine tip.

Scully:
(VERY small smile) No "jagoff shoeshine tip"?

Mulder:
(smile) No background checkin' jagoff shoeshine tip.

Scully:
Well, about your J-O-B, Mulder somebody's been trying very hard to reach you by phone. Somebody who wants you back at the FBI ASAP.

Mulder:
(more serious) About what?

Scully:
About an X-File.

Mulder:
You looking for work, Agent Spender? 'Cause if you are, I got a whole pile in that middle drawer that I'd love to shove down someone's throat.

Spender:
I was just writing you a note. I think you know why I'm here.

Mulder:
They found your mother.

Spender:
She wants to talk to you.

Mulder:
I didn't hear the magic word.

Spender:
Look, Agent Mulder, I'm not going to get down on my knees here.

Mulder:
Are you asking me, Agent Spender?

Spender:
My mother's been gone for almost a year. She turns up in a train car where she's been operated on by a group of doctors who were burned alive. I just want the truth.

Mulder:
The truth is out there, Agent Spender. Maybe you should find it for yourself.

Cassandra Spender:
Agent Mulder?

Mulder:
Shh. Shhh. Shhhh.

Cassandra Spender:
Oh, my god. (laughing) Oh, my god, I think I'm going to pee the floor.

Mulder:
(nervous chuckle) Don't... don't do that.

Mulder:
(opening voiceover; about Cigarette Smoking Man and his father, Bill Mulder) Two men, young, idealistic - the fine product of a generation hardened by world war. Two fathers whose paths would converge in a new battle - an invisible war between a silent enemy and a sleeping giant on a scale to dwarf all historical conflicts. A 50-years war, its killing fields lying in wait for the inevitable global holocaust. Theirs was the dawn of Armageddon. And while the world was unaware, unwitting spectators to the hurly-burly of the decades-long struggle between heaven and earth there were those who prepared for the end; who measured the size and power of the enemy, and faced the choices: stand and fight, or bow to the will of a fearsome enemy. Or to surrender - to yield and collaborate. To save themselves and stay their enemy's hand. Men who believed that victory was the absence of defeat and survival the ultimate ideology... No matter what the sacrifice.

Mulder:
There must be some kind of mistake. I signed up for the aroma therapy treatment.

Scully:
(frustrated) They've burned our clothes.

Mulder:
Hey... I heard gray is the new black.

Scully:
Mulder, this stinks, and not just because I think that woman is a... well, I think you know what I think that woman is.

Mulder:
(dryly) No. Actually, you hide your feelings very well.

Mulder:
(pointing gun at him) Sorry. Nobody home. What are you doing here?

Cigarette Smoking Man:
The door was open. I came in.

Mulder:
Interesting company you keep.

Cigarette Smoking Man:
No more interesting than your apparent... lingerie fetish.

AD Kersh:
The way these people died... the loss of life here - it is beyond words. I can't imagine how it must be for you - losing your mother.

Spender:
Yes, sir. But that's not why I asked for this meeting.

AD Kersh:
Why did you ask for it?

Spender:
Because I'm responsible for the deaths of those people at the Air Base hangar in no small way. I certainly didn't prevent them.

AD Kersh:
I can assume then you can explain how they died? Because I have yet to hear any explanation.

Spender:
Agent Mulder can explain it. I think Agent Scully, to an extent. They might have even prevented what you see in those photos.

AD Kersh:
Agents Scully and Mulder have been suspended by the FBI.

Spender:
Also my doing... and my mistake.

AD Kersh:
I would ask...

Spender:
I'd ask, sir - before you tell me that it's not my business - that you do everything you can to get them back on the X-Files. Far worse can happen... and it will.

AD Kersh:
Where are you going?

Spender:
To pack up my office.

AD Kersh:
Agent Spender... (Spender leaves; Kersh turns to Mulder, angrily) You have answers now? Why didn't I hear about those answers before?

Mulder:
I've had answers for years.

AD Kersh:
Then why didn't we hear about them?

Mulder:
No one would ever listen.

AD Kersh:
Who burned those people?

Mulder:
They burned themselves. With a choice made long ago by a conspiracy of men who thought they could sleep with the enemy. Only to awaken another enemy.

AD Kersh:
What the hell does that mean?

Mulder:
It means the future is here, and all bets are off.

AD Kersh:
Agent Scully, make some sense.

Scully:
Sir, I wouldn't bet against him.

[Cigarette Smoking Man sits in the X-Files office looking at picture of himself and Bill Mulder; Spender enters.]

Spender:
Get out of here.

Cigarette Smoking Man:
This picture you have - I haven't seen it since you were born. You probably don't even know who the other man is.

Spender:
I don't care. Get out.

Cigarette Smoking Man:
It's Bill Mulder, Fox Mulder's father. Isn't that something. He was a good man... a friend of mine... who betrayed me in the end.

Spender:
I know more than enough about your past... enough to hate you.

Cigarette Smoking Man:
Your mother was right. I came here hoping otherwise. (takes out gun) Hoping that my son... might live to honor me... ...like Bill Mulder's son. (takes out his gun and fires, then leaves the office)

Deputy Greer:
Oh, no. You're going to kill me.

Mulder:
(annoyed) No, I'm not, but I'd like to.

Scully:
(holds up badge) Deputy...

Deputy Greer:
(surprised) The FBI? For real?

Scully:
(smiles tightly; nods) I'll be in the car.

Mulder:
(in nature documentary narrator voice) If the sea is where life began - where our ancestors first walked ashore - then who's to say what new life may be developing in its uncharted depths.

Scully:
You know what? Maybe you are a member of the Manson family. (he smiles)

Scully:
Sir, it's important that we evacuate the area. We're FBI agents and we need to get to where we're going.

Road block deputy:
(sighing) Don't all the nuts roll downhill to Florida.

Scully:
(annoyed) I'd be happy to show you my ID-

Mulder:
(talking over her; rolls up window) Thank you very much, sir. I appreciate the concern. (pissed off; turns the car and drives quickly)

Scully:
Mulder.

Mulder:
I was just one "howdy do" over the line.

Mulder:
You know, Scully, someday we're going to look back on this and we're going to laugh. We'll just think of it as, uh... you know man pitted against the forces of nature. Think of it as a test of our mettle.

Scully:
I don't need my mettle tested.

Mulder:
You don't know this man, mister...?

Walter:
Uh, Suarez. Walter Suarez. (shines light at looter) Uh, no. He's not with you?

Looter:
(looks at Mulder awkwardly) I'll put it back.

Mulder:
Yeah. Everything in your pockets, too.

Angela:
(pushing toward bathroom) Supertanker coming through.

Walter:
Here, Angela, you can't go in there.

Angela:
My bladder is pressing against your unborn child, Walter. He's going to have a head like a tortilla.

Walter:
This thing is in the plumbing!

Angela:
The volume alone could push it right back out to sea!

Arthur Dales:
Oh, it's amazing. It's truly amazing.

Scully:
What's that?

Arthur Dales:
That you could come here in the face of a hurricane chasing a sea monster, yet, and end up bringing a new life into the world. And then slaying the monster and save this one's life as he was quite literally circling down the drain.

Mulder:
(embarrassed) She didn't save my life, really...

Arthur Dales:
Oh, yes, she did. Yes, with a gun to her head, no less.

Scully:
(rationalizing) Well, you wouldn't have known to go out in the rain if I hadn't pointed it out that to you that it was the fresh water that killed the organism...

Mulder:
No. No no no no... I-I saw the Shipley's cat!

Arthur Dales:
Uh, well, I-I can't swallow that... No, no, no.

Mulder:
I saw the cat, which had been saved which had been in the washing machine. And the Shipleys had boarded up their house which means that the only way they could have vanished was if the creature came up through the plumbing in a backwash of seawater. Seawater. And then the deputy who vanished from a bathtub full of Epsom salts.

Arthur Dales:
If Agent Scully had not been there with you, I shudder to think what would have happened to you. I'd say you owe her your life. It takes a big man to admit this, but... if I had had someone as savvy as her by my side all those years ago in the X-Files I might not have retired. (both Mulder and Scully look a little embarrassed)

Mulder:
I know. I missed the meeting.

Scully:
You didn't miss the meeting. You're extraordinarily late for the meeting. It's still going on.

Mulder:
What are you doing down here?

Scully:
We took a short break and I came looking for you. What are you doing down here, Mulder?

Mulder:
(sarcastically) I'm having the best damn day of my life. Any moment I'm about to burst into song. (dryly) "Zip a dee doo dah." My, uh, waterbed sprung a leak and shorted out my alarm clock. (Scully looks surprised) My cell phone got wet and crapped out on me and the check I wrote my landlord to cover the, uh, damages is going to bounce if I don't deposit my pay. You ever have one of those days, Scully?

Scully:
Since I've been working here? Yeah. When did you get a waterbed, Mulder?

Mulder:
(he pauses, thinking; ignores the question) Bank's just down the street. I'll be back in ten. Cover for me, will you? (leaves)

Scully:
(to herself) When do I not?

Mulder:
I know. I missed the meeting.

Scully:
Well, not yet, but, uh, only because it's the longest in FBI history.

Mulder:
What are you doing down here, then?

Scully:
Well, I came looking for you. We took a five-minute break (looks at watch) three minutes ago. Mulder, your cell phone's not working. (He glances up at her.) Did you oversleep?

Mulder:
Scully, did you ever have one of those days you wish you could rewind and start all over again from the beginning?

Scully:
Yes. Frequently. But, I mean, who's... who's to say that if you did rewind it and start over again that it wouldn't end up exactly the same way?

Mulder:
So you think it's all just fate? We have no free will?

Scully:
No, I think that we're free to be the people that we are - good, bad or indifferent. I think that it's our character that determines our fate.

Mulder:
And all the rest is just preordained? I don't buy that. There's too many variables. Too many forks in the road. I meant to be on time to work this morning but my waterbed springs a leak flooding my apartment (Scully looks surprised) and the apartment below me so that makes me late for the meeting. Then I realize I got to write a check to cover the damages to my landlord but, as I'm walking to work, I realize that that's gonna bounce unless I deposit my pay. So now I got to go to the bank, which makes me even later.

Scully:
(curious) Since when did you get a waterbed?

Mulder:
I might just as easily not have a waterbed then I'd be on time for this meeting. You might just as easily have stayed in medicine and not gone into the FBI, and then we would never have met. Blah, blah, blah...

Scully:
Fate.

Mulder:
Free will. With every choice, you change your fate.

Mulder:
I just got the weirdest sensation of deja vu. I've been having it all morning.

Scully:
Well, that's fairly common.

Mulder:
Yeah, but never to this degree. I mean, I woke up, I opened my eyes I was soaking wet... (Scully looks confused and curious) It's a long story but I had the distinct sensation that I had lived that moment before.

Scully:
Well, you may have. Did you do a lot of drinking in college?

Mulder:
(about the very strict neighborhood) Oh, yeah. Nothing weird going on around here. (following Scully into the house) Hey... ooh, wait a minute. You didn't let me carry you over the threshold.

Pat Verlander:
(very friendly) You must be the Petries. Hi. Welcome. Welcome to The Falls.

Mulder:
(shaking her hand) I'm Rob (puts hands on Scully's shoulders) and this is my lovely wife, Laura.

Pat Verlander:
Rob and Laura Petrie.

Scully:
We pronounce it "Pee-trie," actually.

Pat Verlander:
Oh.

Mulder:
(cheerfully) Like the dish!

Scully:
(videotaping the house) The local police departments were at a dead end so they turned to the FBI. AD Skinner, in assigning us this case thought a fruitful approach to the investigation would be if we went undercover posing as prospective home buyers as this planned community would seem to hide a dark, possibly murderous conspiracy of silence.

Mulder:
(gets up close to the camera; seductively) You want to make that honeymoon video now?

Scully:
Rob and Laura Petrie?

Mulder:
"Pee-trie."

Scully:
Mulder, if we ever go undercover again I get to choose the names, okay?

Mulder:
Fine.

Scully:
It just tells me that you're not taking this seriously.

Mulder:
I'm taking it seriously. I just don't understand why we're on it. It's our first catch back on the X-Files. This isn't an X-File.

Scully:
Sure it is. It's unexplained. What do you want, aliens? Tractor beams?

Mulder:
Wow. Admit it: you just want to play house. (demanding, jokingly) Woman, get back in here and make me a sandwich! (She stops, smiles slightly; throws her latex gloves at at his head; heads toward the door) Did I not make myself clear?

Scully:
Mulder...

Mulder:
The name... is Rob.

Mulder:
Morning.

Win Shroeder:
Oh! Oh, Rob, Laura. ("accidentally?" sprays their legs with the hose) I'm so sorry. So, good morning. So how was your first night? Peaceful?

Mulder:
(looking fondly at Scully) Oh, it was wonderful. We just spooned up and fell asleep like little baby cats. Isn't that right, Honeybunch?

Scully:
(forced smile) That's right, Poopyhead.

Gene Gogolak:
All right, then, let's see. Basketball hoop and backboard. Portable. Nope, I'm sorry. It's not allowed.

Mulder:
You're kidding?

Gene Gogolak:
I'm afraid not. Rules are rules. It may not sound like anything-- a simple basketball hoop-- but from there, it's just a few short steps to spinning daisy reflectors and a bass boat in the driveway.

Mulder:
In other words, anarchy.

Win Shroeder:
Sweetheart? Did you use the dolphin-safe tuna this time?

Cami Shroeder:
Dolphin-safe all the way, Honey.

Win Shroeder:
We always use the dolphin-safe.

Mulder:
(eating) You've got to love those dolphins ... although they're pretty tasty, too.

[Win and Cami look shocked and horrified; Scully laughs awkwardly to try to break the tension.]

Win Shroeder:
So... where'd you two meet?

[Scully opens her mouth to speak but is interrupted by Mulder.]

Mulder:
Actually, it was at a UFO conference.

Win Shroeder:
Flying saucers? Interesting. Wouldn't have thought you folks would have been into that.

Mulder:
(puts arm around Scully) Well, it's not me so much as Laura. She's quite the New-Ager. I mean, she's into those magnetic bracelets and crystals and mood rings, what have you. I mean, God bless her she's a sucker for all that stuff.

Cami Shroeder:
Well, I wouldn't have guessed that, would you?

Win Shroeder:
Mm-mm.

Scully:
(fake smile) No kidding.

Mulder:
Yeah, there's no sign of him in his house. I didn't see him in the storm drain, either. I take it he's dead, Scully.

Scully:
(correcting him, from the bathroom) Laura.

[Mulder sarcastically mouths "Okay.")

Scully:
(from the bathroom) Mulder, speaking of cleaning up, whoever taught you how to squeeze a tube of toothpaste? (Her arm, coming from the bathroom doorway, shows him the tube squeezed in the middle; he ignores it)

Mulder:
Hey, what do we know about this stuff?

Scully:
I'm driving down to San Diego tomorrow and have it analyzed.

Mulder:
All right.

Scully:
Third warning: (sound of toilet seat falling) Toilet seat. (toilet flushes)

Mulder:
(sprawls out on the bed) Why kill Big Mike? (Scully comes out of the bathroom wearing a bright green mud mask; Mulder looks up and is startled) Whoa!

Scully:
What's missing here is intent. What would be the motive? (throws sweatshirt at his head)

Mulder:
Compulsive neatness, or a lack thereof. Have you noticed how everybody around here is obsessed with the neighborhood rules and the CC&Rs? You know what? You fit in really well here.

Scully:
(pointedly looking at him lying on the bed) And you don't.

Mulder:
(adjusting the pillows) Well, anyway, tomorrow I got a, uh, a surefire way of testing out my theory. (pats the bed beside him seductively; waggles his eyebrows at her; she raises her eyebrows; he tries coaxing) Come on, Laura, you know... we're married now.

Scully:
(correcting) Scully, Mulder. Good night.

Mulder:
(gets up and takes a pillow; pauses next to her; looks very serious) The thrill is gone. (Scully sighs)

[Mulder has just put a pink plastic flamingo in the front yard; looks around confidently and pumps his fists]

Mulder:
Bring it on.

Scully:
Look, Mulder, huge creatures aside do you care to hear what I think?

Mulder:
(not quite sarcastic) Always.

Scully:
(walking in to the X-Files office, where Mulder is pinning pictures to the wall) Aren't you going home?

Mulder:
(not turning around) I am home. I'm just feathering the nest.

Scully:
(looking through the file) What happened to the dog?

Mulder:
(sitting close to her) Dog gone... Dog gone... (proudly) Doggone.

Scully:
(dryly) Yeah, I got it.

Scully:
(stares at him) You're not going to tell me that a dog did this.

Mulder:
(sounding serious, but grinning) A bad dog.

Scully:
(looking in the crate) What did you find?

Officer Jeffrey Cahn:
Nothing conclusive, really, but I can tell you the dog's not likely still on the ship.

Mulder:
How did you determine that?

Officer Jeffrey Cahn:
You ever owned a dog, sir?

Mulder:
Yeah.

Officer Jeffrey Cahn:
Had to clean up after it? (Mulder grins and agrees)

Scully:
I don't suppose you can tell us what kind of dog this is.

Officer Jeffrey Cahn:
I'm not really sure. The man it was shipped to's name is Detweiler. Dr. Ian Detweiler. Calls himself a "cryptozoologist."

Mulder:
(interested) Cryptozoologist?

Officer Jeffrey Cahn:
They deal with animals thought to be extinct.

Mulder:
(continuing) Animals that aren't supposed to exist like Sasquatch and the Ogopogo and the Abominable Snowman and-

Scully:
(interrupting) Don't mind him. He'll go on forever.

Scully:
Jake Conroy, age 30. He was employed as a customs agent by the Federal Government. The bite marks match those of the victims on the Chinese freighter. In this case, it bit off the man's hand. There's some talk in the house that he may be involved in the theft of the animal and that it turned on him.

Mulder:
Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.

Mulder:
I think we're speaking in too common terms about an animal we're calling a dog but which displays none of the behavior of man's best friend.

Scully:
You mean covering up crime scenes?

Mulder:
(smiles) You get a biscuit, Scully.

Stacy:
You two looking for Karin about boarding?

Mulder:
No, it's actually more of a behavior problem.

Scully:
(glancing up at Mulder) Yeah, he doesn't listen and he chews on the furniture.

Scully:
(reading some of Karin's book titles) Ah. "The Wolf Inside." "Dogs Don't Lie." "Better Than Human." (pause) "Better Than Human?"

Mulder:
(shrugging apologetically) She's not a real people person.

Mulder:
Everything okay, Scully?

Scully:
How well do you know this woman, Mulder?

Mulder:
How well do you know anybody you meet on the Internet? She likes to talk.

Scully:
Well, I question her motives.

Mulder:
You're suggesting that this case was a way to get me out here, to meet me? (no response; Mulder smiles) I'm flattered, but, no. I don't know this woman. I'd go out on a limb and say there's no way in hell she has anything to do with those four people being dead.

Scully:
She's enamored of you, Mulder. Don't underestimate a woman. They can be tricksters, too. (They share a look.)

Karin Berquist:
Where's Fox?

Scully:
Continuing his investigation.

Karin Berquist:
You're not working together?

Scully:
No. This is my investigation.

Karin Berquist:
Of...?

Scully:
You.

Karin Berquist:
I have no idea what you mean.

Scully:
I thought at first that they were eccentricities or affectations - the dark, the clothes - but it's photosensitivity. Your sleeves cover up skin lesions. It's why you're here amongst the humans instead of out in the field. Systemic lupus erythematosus.

Karin Berquist:
Lupus... From the Latin for "wolf." Ironic, isn't it?

Scully:
Ironic or perverse?

Karin Berquist:
I've ignored the symptoms for years. I've always felt more like a wolf than a person.

Scully:
But not with Mulder. With Mulder, you found somebody you could communicate with.... someone who challenged you... But that wasn't enough. You needed to lure him out here.

Karin Berquist:
(flatly) I lack your feminine wiles.

Scully:
(looks away for a moment) You don't believe it, do you - not for a minute - that there's an animal out there killing?

Karin Berquist:
I don't believe that this man, Dr. Detweiler, ever caught it. I lived in Asia. I know about the Wanshang Dhole and if it survived for over a century it was because it was more cunning than man, more cunning than this man Detweiler ever dreamed of.

Scully:
More cunning than you? (Karin looks surprised; Scully warns her) I'm watching you.

Karin Berquist:
You watch... But you don't see.

Mulder:
Through some blood curse, this man undergoes some kind of nocturnal transformation. He becomes the same shape-shifting trickster as that mythical dog.

Scully:
So, what is he going to do? Walk in here, skitter across the linoleum and pee in the corners?

Mulder:
It's about territoriality. He's going to come back here tonight to make sure his dominance isn't challenged. He's going to put down the threat he failed to eliminate when he attacked Cahn. Karin Berquist confirmed it.

Scully:
Mulder, the only thing Karin Berquist is interested in is you. (he chuckles dismissively) You're kidding yourself if you think that she hasn't manipulated this entire situation for her own purposes.

Scully:
(about the body, chopped in half) Should we arrest David Copperfield?

Mulder:
(seriously) Yes, we should... but not for this.

Scully:
I don't know. It's not a simple bisection. There's a considerable amount of his abdomen missing. I mean, it almost looks like a burning but it's too localized. Maybe an industrial acid.

Mulder:
(looking at the report) There's, um... no acid found in his office.

Scully:
Oh. (long pause; seriously) Spontaneous human combustion.

Mulder:
(grinning happily in disbelief) Scully...!

Scully:
Well, isn't that where you're going with this?

Mulder:
(smiling) "Dear Diary: Today my heart leapt when Agent Scully suggested spontaneous human combustion."

Scully:
(defensive) Mulder, there are one or two somewhat well-documented cases. (He says nothing; looks off to the side and nods thoughtfully; she sighs) Mulder, shut up. (He tries to look innocent and totally fails)

Phillip Padgett:
(voiceover, as Scully looks at the charm left under Mulder's door) Her prompt mind ran through the golconda of possibilities - was this trinket from the killer? Was there a message contained in its equivocal symbolism? Was he a religious fanatic who had, in fervid haste licked the envelope, leaving the telltale DNA that would begin his unraveling? She had a condign certainty the killer was a male... and now, as she held the cold metal at her fingertips she imagined him doing the same trying to picture his face.

Phillip Padgett:
It would be a plain face, an average face... A face people would be prone to trust. She knew this inherently, being naturally trusting herself. But the image she conjured up was no better than the useless sketch composites that littered her files. Preconsciously, she knew this wasn't her strength as an investigator. She was a marshall of cold facts, quick to organize, connect, shuffle, reorder and synthesize their relative hard values into discreet categories. Imprecision would only invite sexist criticism that she was soft, malleable not up to her male counterparts.

Phillip Padgett:
Even now, as she pushed an errant strand of titian hair behind her ear she worried her partner would know instinctively what she could only guess. To be thought of as simply a beautiful woman was bridling, unthinkable. But she was beautiful... fatally, stunningly prepossessing. Yet the compensatory respect she commanded only deepened the yearnings of her heart... to let it open, to let someone in.

[Scully enters a church to look at a painting of Christ with a burning heart. Phillip Padgett comes up next to her.]

Phillip Padgett:
I often come here to look at this painting. It's called "My Divine Heart" after the miracle of Saint Margaret Mary. Do you know the story... The revelation of the Sacred Heart? Christ came to Margaret Mary his heart so inflamed with love that it was no longer able to contain its burning flames of charity. Margaret Mary... so filled with divine love herself, asked the Lord to take her heart... and so he did placing it alongside his until it burned with the flames of his passion. Then he restored it to Margaret Mary sealing her wound with the touch of his blessed hand.

Scully:
Why are you telling me this?

Phillip Padgett:
You came here specifically to see this painting, didn't you?

Scully:
Yes. How did you know that?

Phillip Padgett:
I saw you enter. The way you knew right where it was.

Scully:
I know you. You live next to somebody I work with. Why are you following me?

Phillip Padgett:
I'm not. I'd only imagined that you'd come here today.

Scully:
You imagined it.

Phillip Padgett:
Yes.

Scully:
(dryly) Yeah.

Phillip Padgett:
I'm a writer. That's what I do - imagine how people behave. I have to admit I've noticed you. I do that... Notice people. I saw that you wear a gold cross around your neck so I was taking a chance with the painting - explaining something you may have already known. I saw Georgetown parking permits on your car dating from 1993 and a government-exempt sticker that lets you park anywhere you like. You don't live in this area but as a federal employee, you have reason to frequent it. You're fit, with muscular calves so you must exercise or run. There's a popular running route right nearby that you might use at lunch or after work. You'd have noticed this church in passing and though parking is always a problem in this part of town your special privileges would make it easy to visit... not as a place of worship but because you have an appreciation for architecture and the arts... and while the grandeur is what you'd take away from your visit, this painting's religious symbolism would have left a subconscious impression jogged by the gift you received this morning.

Phillip Padgett:
I have to admit to a secret attraction. (she looks away and rolls her eyes) I'm sorry I didn't include a note explaining that but you didn't know me then.

Scully:
Yeah, and I don't know you now and I don't care to.

Phillip Padgett:
I see this is making you uncomfortable (she rolls her eyes, like "obviously") and I'm sorry. It's just that I'm taken with you. That never happens to me. We're alike that way.

Phillip Padgett:
(voiceover) The overture in the church had urged the beautiful agent's partner into an act of Hegelian self-justification. Expeditiously violating the fourth amendment against mail theft, he prepared to impudently infract the first. But if she'd predictably aroused her sly partner's suspicions Special Agent Dana Scully had herself become... simply aroused.

[Cuts to scene of Scully and Padget in bed together.]

Phillip Padgett:
(voiceover) She felt an involuntary flush and rebuked herself for the girlish indulgence. But the images came perforce and she let them play-- let them flood in like savory-- or more a sugary confection-- from her adolescence when her senses were new and ungoverned by fear and self-denial. 'Ache,' 'pang,' 'prick,' 'twinge'-- how ironic the Victorian vocabulary of behavioral pathology now so perfectly described the palpations of her own desire. The stranger had looked her in the eye and knew her more completely than she knew herself. She felt wild, feral, guilty as a criminal. Had the stranger unleashed in her what was already there or only helped her discover a landscape she, by necessity, blinded herself to? What would her partner think of her?

Phillip Padgett:
Best not to question it. (pause) See? You are curious about me.

Scully:
Well, you lead a curious life.

Phillip Padgett:
It's not so different from yours I imagine - lonely.

Scully:
(looks away) Loneliness is a choice.

Phillip Padgett:
I made a mistake myself.

Mulder:
What's that, Mr. Padgett?

Phillip Padgett:
In my book, I'd written that Agent Scully falls in love but that's obviously impossible. (looking at Mulder) Agent Scully is already in love.

Phillip Padgett:
But what is the truth?

Ken Naciamento:
Man imagines that he, too, can open up his heart and expose the burning passion - the flames of charity - like the creator himself but this is not in his power.

Phillip Padgett:
But I have love in my heart.

Ken Naciamento:
Yes, as a thief has riches, a usurer money. You have it... but man's only power, only true power is to destroy it.

Phillip Padgett:
Then what's the end of my story?

Ken Naciamento:
There can only be one true ending if it is to be perfect.

Phillip Padgett:
She dies?

Ken Naciamento:
See? It almost writes itself.

Scully:
Mulder, it is such a gorgeous day outside. Have you ever entertained the idea of trying to find life on this planet?

Mulder:
I have seen the life on this planet, Scully, and that is exactly why I am looking elsewhere. (Scully opens a paper bag and takes out something that looks like ice cream) Did you bring enough ice cream to share with the rest of the class?

Scully:
(smugly, eating) It's not ice cream. It's a nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicle.

Mulder:
(returning to his book, disgusted) Ugh. Bet the air in my mouth tastes better than that. You sure know how to live it up, Scully.

Scully:
(continuing to eat) Oh, you're Mr. Live-it-up. Mulder, you're really Mr. Squeeze-every-last-drop-out-of-this-sweet-life, aren't you? On this precious Saturday you've got us grabbing life by the testes - stealing reference books from the FBI library in order to go through New Mexico newspaper obituaries for the years 1940 to 1949, and for what joyful purpose?

Mulder:
Looking for anomalies, Scully. Do you know how many so-called "flying disc" reports there were in New Mexico in the 1940s?

Scully:
I don't care. Mulder, this is a needle in a haystack. These poor souls have been dead for 50 years. Let them rest in peace. Let sleeping dogs lie.

Mulder:
No, I won't sit idly by as you hurl cliches at me. "Preparation is the father of inspiration."

Scully:
"Necessity is the mother of invention."

Mulder:
"The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom."

Scully:
(taking another bite) "Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we may die."

Mulder:
"I scream, you scream, we all scream for"- nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicles! (sets the book down; lunges for Scully. He grabs her arm and takes a bite of the dreamsicle, breaking it; it splatters on the page)

Scully:
No-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! (laughing) Mulder! (she looks at the page; accusingly) Mulder!? You cheat. I can't believe that you've been reading about baseball this whole time.

Mulder:
Reading the box scores, Scully. You'd like it. It's like the Pythagorean Theorem for jocks. It distills all the chaos and action of any game in the history of all baseball games into one tiny, perfect, rectangular sequence of numbers. I can look at this box and I can recreate exactly what happened on some sunny summer day back in 1947. It's like the numbers talk to me, they comfort me. They tell me that even though lots of things can change some things do remain the same. It's...

Scully:
(interrupting) Boring. Mulder, can I ask you a personal question?

Mulder:
Of course not.

Scully:
Did your mother ever tell you to go outside and play? Mulder?

Mulder:
(looking at the page the ice cream spilled on; to himself) Is that ...Arthur Dales?

Scully:
Mulder?

Mulder:
(fake) Ah... Choo! (fake sneezes and rips the page out; Scully pretends to be horrified)

Scully:
You just defaced property of the U.S. Government. (he grabs the page and his jacket and runs out of the office; she smiles slightly) You rebel.

Mulder:
How do you know my name?

Arthur Dales:
My brother told me all about you. He said you were the biggest jackass in the Bureau since he retired. (sarcastic) Yeah, we're big fans. Sometimes we'd stay awake hours at night just talking about you. Just fascinating. Now, unless you're hiding some Chinese food let's call it a day.

Mulder:
I don't really care about the baseball, so much, sir. What I care about is this man in the picture with you. I believe to be an alien bounty hunter.

Arthur Dales:
(opening the door a crack) Of course you don't care about the baseball, Mr. Mulder. You only bothered my brother about the important things like government conspiracies and alien bounty hunters and the truth with a capital "T."

Mulder:
Wait a minute. I like baseball.

Arthur Dales:
You like baseball, huh?

Mulder:
Yeah.

Arthur Dales:
How many home runs did Mickey Mantle hit?

Mulder:
(thinks) 163. (Dales begins shutting the door, disappointed; Mulder pushes it open) Righty. 373 lefty. 536 total. (Arthur Dales nods, impressed; opens door all the way)

Arthur Dales:
Mr. Mulder... maybe you'd better start paying a little less attention to the heart of the mystery and a little more attention to the mystery of the heart.

Young Arthur Dales:
Mr. Exley, I'm not a big sports hero like yourself, sir and I really don't have an opinion on Negroes or Jews or Communists or even Canadians and vegetarians, for that matter but I cannot stomach the murder of a man of any persuasion or any color being flaunted and solicited in my town. (shows him the flyer) Not on my watch. So you can be safe with me in a cell down at the precinct or you can be safe with me here on the bus. Seeing as how this is still America you're free to choose, sir.

Mulder:
Let me get this straight: a free-spirited alien fell in love with baseball and ran away from the other non-fun-having aliens and made himself black, because that would prevent him from getting to the majors where his unspeakable secret might be discovered by an intrusive press and public and you're also implying that...

Arthur Dales:
You certainly have a knack for turning chicken salad into chicken spit.

Mulder:
You're also implying that this baseball-playing alien has something to do with the famous Roswell UFO crash of July '47, aren't you?

Arthur Dales:
You're just dying to connect the dots aren't you, son? Look, I give you some wood and I ask you for a cabinet. You build me a cathedral. I don't want a cathedral. I like where I live. I just want a place to put my TV. Understand my drift?

Mulder:
(pauses) Drift it is, sir.

Arthur Dales:
Trust the tale, Agent MacGyver, not the teller. That which fascinates us is by definition true. Speaking metaphorically, of course.

Mulder:
Okay, so was Ex a man who was metaphorically an alien or an alien who was metaphorically a man or a something in between that was literally an alien-human hybrid? (Dales sighs; hands Mulder alcohol) It's official. I am a horse's ass.

Josh Exley:
Don't get cornball on me, man. Next thing you'll be telling me is I owe it to all the little kids to break the home-run record, or I owe it to the black folks who think I'm one of them, to make it to the majors or I should just keep playing out of some meaningless human concept of pride or loyalty.

Young Arthur Dales:
I don't know, Ex.

Josh Exley:
We don't think like that, man. We may be able to look like y'all, but we ain't y'all. You know the big thing that separates us from you?

Arthur Dales:
What's that?

Josh Exley:
We got rhythm. (both pause, then crack up)

Alien Bounty Hunter:
Show me your true face or you will die without honor.

Josh Exley:
This is my true face.

[Nighttime at a baseball field; Mulder is wearing a "Grays" jersey, hitting balls thrown by a pitching machine.]

Scully:
So, uh... I get this message marked "urgent" on my answering service from one "Fox Mantle" telling me to come down to the park for a very special very early or very late birthday present. And, Mulder... I don't see any nicely wrapped presents lying around so, what gives?

Mulder:
You've never hit a baseball, have you, Scully?

Scully:
No, I guess I have, uh... found more necessary things to do with my time than- (a foul ball hits the fence; she jumps) slap a piece of horsehide with a stick.

Mulder:
Get over here, Scully. (he holds the bat out to her, she takes it, but he keeps his hands on it, wrapping his arms around her and holding the bat with her, around her hands)

Scully:
(warily, not thrilled) This my birthday present, Mulder? You shouldn't have.

Mulder:
This ain't cheap. I'm paying that kid ten bucks an hour to shag balls. Hey, it's not a bad piece of ash, huh? (gives him a "Look.")The bat - talking about the bat. Now, don't strangle it. You just want to shake hands with it. (doing silly voices) "Hello, Mr. Bat. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." "Oh, no, no, Ms. Scully. The pleasure's all mine." (she laughs, and they hold onto the bat) Okay, now, we want to... we want to go hips before hands, okay? (holds his hand a few inches from her hip) We want to stride forward and turn. That's all we're thinking about. So, we go hips... before hands, all right? (gingerly touches her hip and, with his hands and his own hips pressed against her, turns her correctly)

Scully:
Okay.

Mulder:
One more time. (he touches and turns her hips more confidently) Hips... before hands, all right?

Scully:
Yeah.

Mulder:
What is it?

Scully:
Hips before hands.

Mulder:
(speaking right into her ear) Right. We're going to wait on the pitch. We're going to keep our eye on the ball. Then, we're just going to make contact. We're not going to think. We're just going to let it fly, Scully, okay?

Scully:
Mm-hmm.

Mulder:
Ready? (he tries to readjust their grips on the bat; they struggle with it for a moment)

Scully:
I'm in the middle. (gets her hands back between his; both grining)

Mulder:
All right, fire away, Poorboy. (a ball comes at them; they hit it together) Ooh! That's good. All right, what you may find is you concentrate on hitting that little ball... The rest of the world just fades away - all your everyday, nagging concerns.

[Scully giggles; they continue hitting the ball.]

Mulder:
The ticking of your biological clock. (hit) How you probably couldn't afford that nice, new suede coat on a G-Woman's salary. (hit) How you threw away a promising career in medicine... (intimately into her ear) to hunt aliens with a crackpot, albeit brilliant, partner.

[She gives him another "Look"]

Mulder:
Getting into the heart of a global conspiracy. Your obscenely overdue triple-X bill. Oh, I... I'm sorry, Scully. Those last two problems are mine, not yours. (hit)

Scully:
(smiling happily) Shut up, Mulder. I'm playing baseball.

[They continue to hit the balls. Scully laughs. As the balls fly up into the black, star-studded night sky, we see them turn into shooting stars.]

Byers:
My name is John Fitzgerald Byers. I was named after our 35th president, and I keep having this beautiful dream. In my dream, the events of November 22nd, 1963, never happened. In it, my namesake was never assassinated. Other things are different, too, in my dream. My country is hopeful and innocent; young again. Young in spirit. My fellow citizens trust their elect officials, never once having been betrayed by them. My government is truly "of the people, by the people, for the people." All my hopes for my country, for myself... all are fulfilled. I have everything a person could want: home and family... and love. Everything that counts for anything in life... I have it. But the dream ends the same way every time. I lose it all.

Byers:
And that man that you're with...

Susanne Modeski:
My fiance? I'm sorry, John, I think you better go.

Byers:
No, wait. Wait. Ten years ago, I saw you thrown into a car. Kidnapped right in front of me. Did that not happen? Did I just dream all of that?

Susanne Modeski:
It happened. But things got better.

Langly:
What if 'they' did something to him? You know, to make him pancake himself?

Scully:
Who's "they?"

Langly:
You know... "them."

Scully:
(rolling her eyes) I'll begin with the Y-incision.

Scully:
What happened?

Langly:
I'm thinking that you got a little queasy and took a header. You know, blood and guts can bother some people. (gags)

Scully:
(seems intoxicated) Yeah. I guess.

Langly:
You gonna be alright?

Scully:
Sure, cutie.

[Both stand to examine Jimmy's corpse]]

Langly:
So, you're done with Jimmy?

Scully:
Done. Done. Done. (tries to push examining table with no success) How do you roll this thing?

Langly:
Uh, Scully?

[Scully continues to try to figure out the examining table]

Langly:
What killed him?

Scully:
In my medical opinion -- BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!! *claps*

Langly:
And that's all you found?

Scully:
That's all I know.

[Scully slips trying to push the examining table]

Langly:
Scully?

Frohike:
Hey Timmy. I'm sorry about Jimmy.

Timothy Landau:
Hey Langly, the guys are all up in my room for a round of Dungeons and Dragons, in honor of Jimmy.

Langly:
(hand on heart for a moment) Lord Manhammer will be in attendance. (to Frohike) I'm going to go play a little D&D, uh, in memoriam.

Frohike:
That's touching, man.

[Frohike hears Scully's laugh, and leaves his slot machine to see her surrounded by a huge group of men.]

Frohike:
Scully?

Scully:
Aw, hey. Long time, no see. (a man whispers something into her ear) No, that's not nice. I like Hickey. (she rubs his head, messing up his hair. Agent Morris Fletcher [from Dreamland I/II] holds out a pack of cigarettes to her)

Morris:
Cigarette? (she leans in and takes out a cigarette with her lips seductively)

Frohike:
You don't smoke.

Scully:
But who's got a match? (a dozen lighters are in front of her instantly) Well ... I just can't decide who lights my fire.

Frohike:
That's it. (grabs cigarette from Scully's mouth) Alright, you dandies, back off. This is Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI. If you so much as touch her, you may be committing a federal offense. (to Scully) Come on, come on. (he pulls her away)

Morris:
We could have been stardust.

Scully:
Maybe next time. (she slaps his ass as Frohike drags her off)

Scully:
(laughing) Hi.

Frohike:
Settle down, settle down. (sits her on the bed)

Scully:
(laughing and grinning) Okay, okay, okay, okay.

Frohike:
I found Agent Scully-go-lightly holding court... (Scully grabs Frohike's ass) ...bar!

Byers:
I've never seen her drunk before ...

Modeski:
(checks Scully's eyes) God, this can't be.

Scully:
(she pretends to tickle her) Hi...

Frohike:
I don't understand. Why would the government want to turn Scully into a bimbo?

Scully:
Hello, Mulder? Can you hear me? I'm at the hotel. Where are you? What do you mean, "What hotel?" Las Vegas. I'm in Las Vegas, aren't you? You called me. What do you mean you didn't call me? ...Oh, man, I am going to kick their asses.

Frohike:
So you want to hit the slots?

Langly:
You know, Byers, growing old with us ain't so bad.

Frohike:
Oh, shut up, Langly. You really want him to kill himself?

Mulder:
It doesn't sound like you Scully. I can't believe you're buying this.

Scully:
Mulder, I'm admitting that I was wrong.

Scully:
(voiceover) From Space, it seems an abstraction-- a magician's trick on a darkened stage. And from this distance one might never imagine that it is alive. It first appeared in the sea almost four billion years ago in the form of single-celled life. In an explosion of life spanning millions of years, nature's first multicellular organisms began to multiply... and then it stopped. 440 million years ago, a great mass extinction would kill off nearly every species on the planet leaving the vast oceans decimated and empty. Slowly, plants began to evolve, then insects, only to be wiped out in the second great mass extinction upon the Earth. The cycle repeated again and again. Reptiles emerging, independent of the sea only to be killed off. Then dinosaurs, struggling to life along with the first birds, fish, and flowering plants - their decimations Earth's fourth and fifth great extinctions. Only 100,000 years ago, Homo Sapiens appear-- man. From cave paintings to the bible to Columbus and Apollo 11, we have been a tireless force upon the earth and off cataloguing the natural world as it unfolds to us. Rising to a world population of over five billion people all descended from that original single cell, that first spark of life. But for all our knowledge, what no one can say for certain, is what or who ignited that original spark. Is there a plan, a purpose or a reason to our existence? Will we pass, as those before us, into oblivion, into the sixth extinction that scientists warn is already in progress?

Scully:
Or will the mystery be revealed through a sign, a symbol, a revelation?

Scully:
It began with an act of supreme violence-- a big bang expanding ever outward, cosmos born of matter and gas, matter and gas ten billion years ago. Whose idea was this? Who had the audacity for such invention? And the reason? Were we part of that plan ten billion years ago? Are we born only to die? To be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth before giving way to our generations? If there is a beginning, must there be an end? We burn like fires in our time only to be extinguished. To surrender to the elements' eternal reclaim. Matter and gas... will this all end one day? Life no longer passing to life, the Earth left barren like the stars above, like the cosmos. Will the hand that lit the flame let it burn down? Let it burn out? Could we, too, become extinct? Or if this fire of life living inside us is meant to go on, who decides? Who tends the flames? Can he reignite the spark even as it grows cold and weak?