Scully's Apartment Annapolis, ML 6:30 A loud buzzing interrupted my silence. Slowly, I rolled over to see what time it was. As I guessed, it was six thirty. After I rolled back over, I pulled myself out of my bed for the second time that morning. At least my foot had stopped hurting. After I was dressed, I went to the kitchen to grab breakfast. All I had in the pantry was a granola bar. I grabbed it and hurried out the door. On my way to my car, I ripped open the tiny package and ate the pitiful morsel. Finally I reached my car. I reached into my pocket and rummaged for my keys. Eventually, I found the loose set of keys under all of the notes and miscellaneous junk. Just like every other day, I opened the car door, sat down, and started the ignition. Casually, I pulled out of the parking lot and headed for FBI headquarters.


FBI Headquarters Washington DC 9:05 I patiently sat, waiting for Mulder. The meeting had just started about four minutes ago. Mulder wasn't here. Skinner had a look that made me know that he didn't approve of Mulder's absence. I needed to go look for Mulder. "May I be excused?" I inquired, hoping that I could get away to look for him. "Why don't we all take a break?" inserted Skinner who made it obvious that he knew why I wanted to leave. "That's a good idea. How about five minutes?" suggested another agent at the table. "That sounds good," Skinner said as he got up from his chair at the end of the table. On my way down the hallway, I pulled out my cell phone. Casually, I pressed the auto dial for Mulder's number. Through the ear peace I heard it ring once. Then twice. Three times. After the fourth one, I hung up. I just hope he isn't at home sleeping. Suddenly a thought popped into my head. Maybe he's downstairs in his office. Now with more purpose, I strode to the elevator.

FBI Headquarters
Washington DC
9:10
An echo sounded through out the long hall way as my foot stepped out of the elevator. After taking the usual route to get to the office, I noticed that the doorway open. I knew that someone was there because I had closed it before I went up to the meeting on my way out. When I finally reached the door I pushed it open to see who was inside. As I would have guessed, Mulder sat at his desk, ripping open an envelope.
"Oh, hey Scully.," he said, finally noticing that I had entered the room.
"Mulder, where have you been? The meeting started ten minutes ago," I reminded him.
"Well Scully, it's a long story. This morning my waterbed sprung a leak-"
"Since when did you get a water bed?" I interrupted.
"I don't know. But I have to deposit this check or the check for the repairs will bounce. Will you cover me?" he continued.
"When do I not?" I said sarcastically. Mulder got up from his desk and headed for the door.
"I'll hurry back," he told me as he left the room. Suddenly I looked down at my watch. I had to get back to the meeting.
FBI Headquarters Washington DC 9:45 "So as you can see..." My mind was elsewhere as an agent at the table gave his report on his section of the Bureau. Mulder said that his visit to the bank would be quick. It had been over a half an hour since then. Skinner still looked like he was not pleased. Now I had the feeling that it was not only because Mulder was not here, but also because of my lack of finding him. "May I be excused?" I inquired once more as I emerged from my chair. After making my way past the long hallway, I entered the elevator to go find my missing partner.

Bank of America
Washington DC
10:15

The bank looked quieter than usual. Looking around, I entered the bank to find Mulder. As I walked into the main room, I instantly caught on to the situation unfolding. A middle aged, brown haired man was standing in the center of the room, weapon drawn. Mulder was about five feet away from him, hands in the air, trying to talk down the robber.
"Drop your weapon!" I demanded as I drew my pistol from its holster on my hip. Reacting to my interference, the man turned and shot Mulder. Seeing only the entrance wound, I dropped my gun and rushed to his aid, putting pressure on his bleeding chest.
"He needs help," I told our captor. "His life is in your hands." Still putting pressure on the bullet entry wound, I looked over at the glass doors to see the SWAT teem coming, armed and ready.
"No," he said opening his shirt. To my surprise, a vest of dynamite was strapped to him. He lifted the switch lid and put his finger on the metal detonator.