After an hour of sitting in silence, contemplating his situation, Mulder's hunger became unbearable. The grumbling and noise of Mulder's stomach gave Mulder a pang of guilt as he suddenly realized that there were starving kids in Africa who felt this way every day.

Finally, the hunger got to him and he grabbed his hotel key and took a walk down the street. He found a corner diner and went in. He was hoping to use the diner's phone and maybe offer his service for something to eat. He'd eat a gallon jar of jalapenos at the moment if he was sure it would shut up the growling of his stomach.

A sign told him to take a seat anywhere, and Mulder chose one at the counter.

In only a minute, a black haired waitress of Asian descent came to him from behind the counter. "My name is Sally. How may I help you sir?" She asked, overly cheery with an authentic smile.

Mulder shifted in his seat. "Actually I have a sort of problem. I've misplaced my wallet and the phones don't seem to be working so I was hoping that I could offer my service in exchange for a meal."

The waitress nodded and held up her hand and said, "I'll get my manager."

She left and in another minute an older women with dyed red hair came and stood before Mulder. "I've been told that you're offering your services for a meal?"

"Yes I am."
"Don't worry about it. Order whatever you want on the house. I only ask that you payback the favor to someone else in need."

Mulder smiled gratefully. "Thank you, ma'am. I will."

The manager smiled back and took out a small notebook. "Now what can I get you?"

Mulder had studied the menu already, so he answered. "I'll have the two and two and two with orange juice, please."

The manager nodded. "Will that be all?" Mulder nodded back. "Alright."

The manager left and Mulder surveyed his surroundings. From the people around him, he gathered that he was in a town not far from a smaller city, which was made primarily of laborers and farmers. Three men, he counted, had on camouflage. That wasn't surprising for a town in the Midwest.

As Mulder sat at the counter, a Sheriff's deputy came in the diner as he did ever morning in the week. He shot a watchful over all the diners. Not because he thought they were doing something illegal but because as a person with a photographic memory, he never forgot a face and every now and then he'd catch persons with warrants out on them, around town.

Of course nothing like that had happened in a long time. With that in mind it came as a sort of shock when the deputy noticed a man sitting at the counter. The size and features of the man were unmistakable. The deputy watched him carefully as he stopped Sally as she passed him. "Sally, who's that man sitting there at the counter?"

Sally looked at the man quickly. "Oh just some guy who came in a few minutes ago. He doesn't have his wallet so Donna's letting him have a meal on the house."

Sally walked away and the deputy approached the man in question carefully and slowly. Mulder didn't even seem to care or be concerned when the deputy sat next to him.

The deputy acted natural while casually grasping his holstered gun in his right hand. "Excuse me." The deputy said as if trying to start a casual conversation.

Mulder turned to the deputy and gave him a very quick sizing up. "Uh hi." He said caught off guard.

The deputy stared at Mulder for a few seconds. "That's it?"

Mulder suddenly became very confused. "What?"

The deputy put his shoulder on the counter. Mulder watched this action without taking eyes off the deputy. Mulder became aware that deputy had his hand on his gun.

"After what happened yesterday all you can say is hi?" The deputy said with a very high level of spite in his tone.

Mulder turned around more on his stool, he caught himself grabbing for the spot where his ID would be if he had it. Mulder read the deputy's name tag. "I'm sorry deputy, O'Ryan, but I have no idea what you're talking about. My name is Mulder. I'm a Special Agent with the FBI and this is going to sound un…"

The deputy just stared at Mulder and eventually laughed, interrupting Mulder's explanation. "You robbed a house yesterday and then you give me a story that you're an FBI agent? That's a new one in my book."

Mulder's confusion upgraded to anxiety. Mulder knew from that moment on he was royally screwed. "Rob a house? I didn't rob a house. I woke up this morning and have no idea how I got here. Let alone where 'here' is." Mulders voice was tinkering on panic and Mulder fought to control that.

Sally came with Mulders food at the moment and Mulder glanced at the deputy. The deputy relaxed a bit. "Eat your food and then you're under arrest."

Suddenly Mulder's appetite vanished but he forced himself to eat. He had experience with jail food and if he didn't eat now he knew he'd regret it. Although, he thought, nothing could be worse than the soup he got at that Russian Prison Camp.

With Mulders last bite and last gulp from his orange juice, the deputy grabbed Mulder's wrist and tightened a handcuff around it. Mulder slid off the stool onto his feet and the deputy pushed on Mulders shoulder. Mulder got the message and turned around so the deputy could handcuff his hands behind his back.

With Mulder's hands behind his back, the deputy pulled his wallet out and took out a ten and handed it to Sally. They walked to the parking lot and to the deputy's patrol car but before O'Ryan opened the door for Mulder, "Do you have any sharp objects or needles in your pockets?" he asked facing Mulder in front of the car before frisking him. Mulder had nothing but the hotel key so there was nothing to find.

Thirty minutes later, Mulder was being processed. He was handcuffed to the chair he was sitting in as Deputy O'Ryan sat at a computer.

"Alright, what's your name?"

Mulder sighed. "Fox William Mulder."

The deputy shook his head. "Stop lying. We know that's not you're name."

Mulder rolled his eyes in frustration. "How?"

The deputy breathed deeply and then pulled out an evidence bag from his desk drawer. In it was Mulder's wallet. The deputy opened the wallet and pulled out a driver's license. He handed it to Mulder. To Mulders extreme dislike it had his picture from the Washington DC DMV, but had the wrong name, address and state. According to the card, Mulders name was Joseph Franklin McKinney from High Ridge MO.

Mulder frowned. He stayed silent a minute as he went through every possible scenario in his head. He couldn't think of any way to get the deputy to believe him, he had no proof. He might as well be crazy. And frankly Mulder didn't blame him; the evidence against "Joseph" was strong enough to cause concern for any law officer. In this situation, Scully probably wouldn't believe anyone like Mulder either.

After finger printing and mug shots and changing of clothes, Mulder was put in a cell that was solid concrete. It didn't have bars. Only walls and a door with a glass window and two slots. One for food the other for hands to be handcuffed. He walked in and sat on the bed and then kicked the adjacent wall in anger.

This was worse than the campaigns of misinformation and the quests to close the X Files combined. The way things looked now, Mulder could be locked away and no one would no where. Not Scully, nor Skinner, not even the Lone Gunmen, not even his own mom.

Mulder lay down on the bed with a thin mattress. Cigarette Smoking Man, Mulder thought. Cigarette Smoking Man is behind this.

The Cigarette Smoking Man lit his last cigarette of his pack of Morley's and watched as Special Agent Dana Scully of The Federal Bureau of Investigation went to her mailbox. When she went into her apartment, CSM pulled out a laptop and opened it, the screen came on to a view of Scully's living room. CSM smiled as Scully finished the letter from Mulder and threw it in the air clearly distraught and furious.

"Leaving Mulder?! ALL THIS TIME, AFTER ALL THAT HAPPENED BETWEEN US AND YOU LEAVE?" Scully was screaming and clenching her fists. She sat down and composed herself, and reread the letter. This time she read it carefully studying every word, every phrasing, even reading it in Mulder's voice.

It said, in short, that Mulder's involvement in her life was poison. He'd cost her a sister, cancer, too many close calls too count and that none of it was worth the truth. "I keep telling myself that I'm looking for Samantha, but there came a point when I realized that if I wanted to keep those around me alive today, I have to sacrifice myself. I have to stop looking. I have to get a way. I have to let go. Goodbye, Scully and I'm sorry."

Scully sat in silence. Queequeg came to her and she picked him up and hugged him with tears in her eyes.

The next day she went to work. News of Mulder must have circled the bureau because she received looks from other agents who she could feel studying her body language. She kept herself composed and professional. She knew that the people of the bureau talked behind her back of her and "Spooky Mulder". She had learned to do as Mulder does and ignore and move on.

After only thirty minutes of arrival, she was called into Skinners office. There she found Skinner and the other assistant directors plus Kersh.

Skinner held up his hand. "Have a seat Agent Scully."

Scully followed his order and sat down. All eyes were on her and she remained composed and professional.

Skinner was the first to speak. He too had a strong and professional demeanor. "Agent Scully we called you in today to talk about the apparent resignation of your partner, Fox Mulder."

Scully made sure to make eye contact with all persons in the room. "Yes sir."

Skinner stayed focused on Scully. "You know?"

Scully nodded. "Yes sir. I received a letter in the mail from him yesterday."

"What did it say?" Asked Kersh who revealed no body language that was significant.

Scully glanced at the floor for a split second. She thought about lying, but decided not to. "It said, that he was poison to me and that it was best for everyone if he just stopped looking for his truth."

The persons in the room nodded. That answer seemed to be satisfactory for them.

Skinner looked at Kersh. "That'll be all, Agent Scully. You're dismissed."

Scully gave a forced courteous smile and left the room. She was on her way back to her desk when she was stopped by Skinner. "Did you lie about the letter from Mulder?" He asked seriously.

Scully shook her head no. "Unfortunately, no. That's really what he said."

Skinner stepped back and then put his hands on his hips. "Are you okay Scully?" He asked with a low voice.

"Yes I'm fine. I just hope he's okay."

Back in Missouri, a guard came to Mulders cell and unlocked it. A young pimply faced man came into the cell holding a suitcase and wearing a paisley tie. "I'm Mark Young, you're court appointed attorney." He said, obviously nervous.

Mulder sat up. "Mark Young? Is that a joke?"

The attorney chuckled nervously and pushed his glasses on his nose. "Um no."

Mulder looked the kid up and down. "How long have you been a defense attorney?"

Again the man chuckled. Mulder sensed his anxiety building. "This is my first case."

Mulders own anxiety grew, "Ever?"

Mark Young shook his head yes.

Great, just great, he thought and smacked his head into his palm.