Scully had been a by the book FBI agent all day long as she did her paperwork and background checks like she was supposed to. All thoughts of Mulder were stopped and she forced herself to concentrate only on her work. This was all necessary because she knew, just knew, that if she thought of Mulder, she would break down crying and she couldn't deal with that then.

So when she had put in her eight hours and completed all necessary forms as the Bureau mandated, she drove him. But a compulsion, strong and overwhelming, had her taking a turn in the wrong direction and soon she ended up at a door. It read '42' and Scully breathed in and unlocked it with the key that she kept on the same key ring that held the key to her own apartment.

Mulder's apartment looked exactly like it normally did. The fish tank light was on, the desk cluttered but organized, the computer and TV off, and the scattered pillow and blankets of Mulder's sofa were as usual strung all over the sofa, half on the floor.

Scully relaxed and went and fed the fish. This was not the scene she expected but it was better. After she put the fish food away she sat at Mulder's desk and went through the drawers and turned on the computer.

It doesn't make sense. She thought. Why would Mulder leave his apartment like this?

Scully browsed the file names and documents on the computer, she had just opened the most recent file when a burly man of fifty came by and knocked on the door.

"Hello?" Scully said after opening the door. She recognized the man as Mulder's landlord.

"Is Agent Mulder home?" The man asked having also recognized Scully.

Scully shook her head. "Um no actually. He left and I came here to see if I can figure out where he went. Do you need him for something?"

The landlord leaned a tad in order to peek past Scully into the apartment. "Yeah I need him. Rent was due yesterday."

Scully held her position. "Oh does Agent Mulder usually miss the rent?"

"No for a tenant who goes out of town more than a traveling salesman, he's usually one of my most dependable tenants, although I do have to do a lot of work and talk to the cops a lot about this particular apartment. Hazard of the FBI I guess."

Scully nodded. She'd admit a lot of drama does go on in Mulders apartment and it did seem to get beat out of shape a lot.

"If Agent Mulder missed the rent do you think you could give him an extra few days?"

The landlord looked down at the ground real quick then brought his gaze back to Scully. "Normally I would. But I need everyone's rent by 5 today so I can hire a plumbing service to replace the pipes in the basement. They leak and I can't have a tenant falling and killing themselves in the winter."

Scully nodded again and stepped aside to let the landlord in. She went and grabbed her purse and pulled out her checkbook. "Would you accept a check from me?"

The landlord came closer to Scully. "Are you family?"

Scully took her pen, "We're partners."

The landlord looked Scully up and down. "Can I see some ID?"

Scully pulled out her badge and ID and the landlord studied it carefully. "As long as the moneys good."

Later the landlord had left with Scully's check and Scully resumed her fact finding tour of the apartment. She had just about given up to come to the conclusion that Mulder didn't leave of his own volition when a folded up piece of printer paper fell out of a folder. It read:

Scully,

By now you have received my first letter and are looking into my

life for answers. I appreciate that. But it is with great sadness that

I admit while my reasons for leaving are my own, I ask you to please take care of my apartment. I was afraid that if I stayed in Washington any longer, your life would be in danger more than it already was. Please forgive me, Scully.

You're Selfish SOB Former Partner, Fox Mulder.

PS

You can have the fish tank, that's why I cleaned it in the first place.

Like the first letter she received in the mail, Scully read and reread the letter. As she did something did sit right with her about it. It sounded like Mulder on one hand, and on the hand it didn't sound like Mulder.

Scully stopped reading and thought about the facts for a moment. All she knew was that the letter from the mail came from Mulder's address and that he had typed it up on his personal computer. Something had scared Mulder into leaving Washington.

He had used the word 'poison' to describe how he was a threat in her life. No doubt someone had threatened her and Mulder left to protect her.

Scully suddenly felt alert and ready to go. All rage she had for Mulder dissipated and reappeared as rage for whoever threatened her and/or Mulder. She knew she only had one mission now and that was too find Mulder.

Mulder's arraignment hearing was a lot like a court scene from a comedy about lawyers. Mulder had to wait an hour for his time before the judge, and when it was finally Mulders turn to take the defendants table, his attorney Mark Young had to run at full speed to throw up in the bathroom. Six minutes seemed to drag on when the young man returned.

"Are you okay now, Mr. Young?" The judge asked looking down on the attorney.

"Yes, Your Honor."

The judge was an older white guy who looked as if he was a grandpa not a judge. Mulder thought about this when the judge spoke. "Okay. We're all hungry here so let's just get to the good part." The judge's voice boomed. "On the charges of breaking and entering, burglary, and giving false information to a police officer, how does your client plead?" The judge asked eyeing Mark Young specifically.

"We plead not guilty by reason of mental disease od defect." Mark Young said, his body language practically shouting he was nervous.

The judge gestured to the assistant district attorney, a very sexy lady with long legs and auburn hair. "You're honor this man lied to the officer who arrested him and will say anything to get out of trouble. He has this story that he will tell anyone who will listen about being an FBI Agent."

The judge seemed to find this funny. He glanced at Mulder who was rubbing his fingers under his handcuffs in order to ease the pain from them being on too tight.

"Mr. McKinney are you an FBI Agent?"

Mulder perked up at this question, maybe THIS man would believe him. "Yes I am, your Honor, and as such my name is not Joseph McKinney. I am not from High Ridge MO, wherever that is, and I didn't break into anyone's house. My name is Fox Mulder, I live in Washington and woke up in a hotel room yesterday and I don't remember how I got there."

The ADA scoffed. "Oh come on, your honor. You're humoring a criminal who shows no other signs of mental disease."

The judge leaned back in his chair and thought for a few moments. "It is on my authority that I remand Mr. McKinney to Craigwood Psychiatric Hospital where he shall be evaluated and six weeks from now we'll all meet again and discuss further action regarding this case." The judge banged his gravel and Mulder was led away. He thought it strange that there were no arguments at that ruling but then again, everyone was hungry.

As Always Please Review.