Mulder jolted awake suddenly. He was in a car. For a moment he thought that the whole thing had been a terrible dream, until he looked over and saw X driving the car. It was just starting to get light. Mulder glanced at the digital clock in the dashboard. 7:03.

"Where are we?"

"Maine," X replied simply. "About an hour away from Portland." Mulder stretched and yawned loudly before rubbing his neck. It was sore, probably from sleeping awkwardly in the car. That was what he thought, however, until his fingertips ran over a small puncture wound in his neck. Rubbing it harder he turned and glared at X.

"You drugged me! Why?"

"You needed to sleep. You've got a very long day ahead of you. You're going to be exhausted by the end of it. And I knew you would never go to sleep willingly so, when you were getting into the car I slipped you an injection of chloral hydrate."

"Gee, I'm so touched that you were thinking of my welfare." Mulder replied sarcastically.

"I wasn't. I was thinking more of Agent Scully. If you're tired you'll get sloppy and mess up." The car remained quiet for a few minutes, the only sound the tires as they ground along the road. Mulder was the first to break the quiet.

"So what's the plan?"

"I was beginning to wonder when you would ask me that," X replied, keeping his eyes glued to the road ahead. "I'll tell you all you need to know when we reach Portland." Once more, silence engulfed the car, and it wasn't broken until they pulled up outside a diner in Portland.

A few minutes later, the pair were sat in a booth, Mulder sipping coffee while X sat opposite. After a while Mulder spoke.

"So? We're in Portland, are you going to tell me 'all I need to know' now?"

"Yes. Agent Mulder, the instructions I am going to give you must be followed to the letter, do you understand?" Mulder nodded his ascent as X continued, passing a piece of paper over the table to Mulder, who unfolded it.

"That is the address of Agent Scully's residence in Portland. You are to arrive there at exactly 3:30 pm this afternoon. You are to take the car and park slightly up the street on the opposite side of the road. Wait there. At 4:01 pm, the man who is going to kill your partner will arrive. This is the man." He passed another piece of paper across the table, which again Mulder accepted. It was a photograph, the man was wiry, in his early 40s with receding blond hair and light brown eyes. He looked very shifty, glancing warily at the camera. X continued talking. "His name is Austin O'Brien. He will be driving a battered, brown 1976 Pontiac and will park directly opposite the dirt track leading to your partner's house. You must get rid him before your partner arrives home at 4:33 pm. He cannot be there, do you understand? But you must. You cannot leave until you have watched her go inside the house and her brother and sister have arrived home. When they have I want you to come back here, I'll be waiting for you and we can leave. Do you understand everything I've said?"

Mulder nodded before asking,

"But what if he goes back later?"

"It won't matter, he'll have missed his only chance. There won't be another," X replied and rose to leave, before Mulder's voice stopped him.

"Wait a second. Scully gets killed in 1980s Portland. This is 1999!" X threw down a newspaper Mulder hadn't even known he'd been holding before walking away and out the door. Picking up the newspaper Mulder glanced at the date and his brow furrowed in confusion. It read January 23rd 1980. Grabbing the car keys X had left on the table and pocketing the photo and piece of paper Mulder headed for the door but stopped before he reached it. Turning on his heel he walked back toward the counter. The waitress behind it looked up as he approached and smiled warmly.

"What can I get you sugar?"

"Uh nothing thank you. Could you tell me what the date is please?"

"Why sure. It's January 23rd."

"And the year?" He flinched as he said this, knowing how crazy he must sound. She looked at him strangely before replying,

"1980."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah," she replied slowly, probably thinking what a wack job he was.

"Thank you," he replied, turning round again and walking out the door, leaving the waitress as confused as he himself was.