From: Spkyteach Date: 31 Dec 1999 13:32:44 GMT Subject: NEW:This Millennium... (1/4) Title: This Millennium is Bugging Me (1/4) Author: Spookyteacher E-mail: spkyteach@aol.com Archiving: Gossamer -Yes! Anywhere else, okay as long as all these headers are attached. And please let me know where it's at... I want to visit! Rating: PG-13 Spoilers: US7 Category: X Subcategory: A Keyword: M/S UST (Please note: This probably cannot be classified as true MSR, BUT... noromos be forewarned: There's some warm and fuzzy moments and some angst) Summary: Mulder and Scully are brought into a case of a man who has some really weird Y2K problems. Disclaimer: Everyone else is so clever with this... Chris Carter, Fox, Ten Thirteen, David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, et al: I'm just borrowing them, guys. I promise I'll return them in almost new condition after playing with them. Besides, I'm a teacher; how are you gonna get any amount of money from a teacher?! Special thanks to Julie, Claudia, and Ashlea (aka Morleyphile and CSW, among others) for their encouragement! Part 1 American Airlines Flt. 670 Atlanta Hartsfield Airport Gate C3 December 10, 1999 Scully makes her way down the aisle of the plane, reading the numbers above the seats and dodging others trying to settle into their seats. Mulder is following her, having difficulty maneuvering the bag he refused to check between the seats. Scully spots the correct seat numbers and settles into the window seat. Mulder finally manages to jam his bag into an overhead compartment after stopping traffic in the aisle for several minutes. He, then, folds his lanky body into the aisle seat, allowing the waiting passengers to pass. Scully opens the laptop she carried onboard and begins typing. Mulder busies himself with a Gameboy he's pulled out of his jacket pocket. A man in his late twenties wearing jeans and Marymount College T-shirt stops at their row and eyes the two agents. Mulder is so engrossed in his game he doesn't notice the man, but Scully does. He motions his head toward the middle seat. Scully reaches over and taps Mulder on the arm. Getting his attention, she gestures towards the man. "Um... I think that's my seat. 11E?" the man asks. "Sure," Mulder mumbles as he climbs from his seat into the aisle, allowing the man to get to his seat. The man settles into his seat, pulling a magazine from his bag before shoving it under the seat. As he's sitting back down, Mulder drops his Gameboy. The man retrieves the device from under his seat and hands it back to Mulder. "Thanks," Mulder responds and returns to his game. Scully returns to her typing. The man begins reading his magazine, but is shortly distracted by Mulder reaching across him to hand Scully some papers. She takes the papers, briefly scans them, sets them next to the laptop, and continues typing. "Please put your seat up, sir," the flight attendant requests. Mulder nods and pushes the button to raise the seat back, without looking up from his game. "And you'll need to turn off the electrical equipment as we are preparing for take off," she further requests. Mulder doesn't respond. Scully acknowledges the request, saves her work, and shuts down the laptop. As she's stowing under her seat, she glances over at Mulder. She's a bit shocked to see Mulder slamming the Gameboy against the armrest. He repeats the violent action two more times before she speaks. "Mulder, what's wrong?" He shakes the device violently in his hands. "Damn thing quit." He resumes slamming the device against the armrest. Scully notes that Mulder has gotten the attention of their rowmate and everyone seated nearby. Soon, the entire plane would be witness to her partner's tantrum. "Mulder," she says evenly, trying to get his attention. But Mulder doesn't respond or even look her way. Instead, he raises the Gameboy over his head, preparing to slam it against the armrest even harder than before. Scully reaches across the man in the center seat and grabs Mulder's hand just before the Gameboy makes contact with the armrest. Startled, Mulder looks at Scully. "Mulder, what's wrong with it?" she asks, still holding his hand with the Gameboy in it. Mulder looks from Scully to her hand on his and back to her. The man in the center seat watches intently. "It stopped... right in the middle of my pitch," Mulder gets out in explanation for his actions. "Can I take a look?" she asks in a quiet voice. Mulder releases the device and Scully studies it to determine the difficulty. As she does this, the plane engines roar as the pilot begins takeoff. Scully checks the batteries and finds them configured properly. "I just put batteries in the stupid thing before we came onboard," Mulder complains. She tries the buttons and the on-off switch. After several minutes, she surrenders the device back to Mulder, who's been watching her attempts to revive the device. "Do they have an 800 number? I'd call tech support," Scully suggests. Mulder takes it from her and answers, "Nah. That won't get me anywhere." He stuffs the Gameboy back into his pocket. "I'll take it to Langly." 10 minutes later After takeoff, Scully resumes her typing on the laptop. Mulder is reading the latest issue of The Magic Bullet while the man in the center seat is reading The Wall Street Journal. Mulder interrupts his reading and looks over at Scully, who's typing at a fast rate. He leans closer, entering the man's space, trying to see the screen. This distracts the man from his reading again. "Not, yet," she responds to his unspoken question, without looking up. "Well, how much longer? We agreed I'd type my part." "Give me..." Scully answers as she continues typing, "... a few more minutes." Mulder watches her type, trying unsuccessfully to be patient. "What line of work are ya in?" Mulder is surprised by the intruding question from the man in the center seat. He looks at the man, as if he's noticing him for the first time. "Name's Yale Kirby," the man says, extending his hand. After a few seconds, Mulder shakes hands with the man. "I'm in business. Well, actually, I'm a grad student in business at Marymount. What line of work are you in?" Mulder continues to study the man for a minute longer. Finally he answers. "My work?" he repeats. "My... work..." Behind those hazel eyes, the wheels are turning. He smiles wryly as he continues. "My work is something everyone just kinda takes for granted." "Oh, yeah, what's that?" "I'm in sewage disposal." "Sew--age disposal?" the man sputters out. Scully closes her eyes and sighs before resuming her typing. "Yeah, y'know those port-a-potty things? Well, we own The Happy Crapper in Falls Church." The man is taken aback briefly by this revelation, but he recovers admirably. "Really? Um... that must be... an interesting business." "Yes, and necessary. When you've got to go, you've got to go." Scully types faster. "How did you get into that business," Kirby asks, trying to keep the conversation going. "Well, we were in big piles of manure, but we decided to change to human excrement. So, you could say we've been in crap for a long time." "Okay, DONE," Scully says loudly as she shoves the laptop at Mulder. Mulder reaches over Kirby and takes the computer from her. He sets it on his fold-down tray and begins to scroll up the document. "What are you doing?" Scully asks. "Paranoia's a bitch, isn't it?" he questions in return. "Whatever happened to 'the only one I trust?'" Mulder looks up. "You remembered," he remarks playfully. Then, turning serious, he answers, "Scully, I'm just making sure my part fits in with your part." Scully's lips go into a flat line. "Can I read that?" she asks, motioning to the newspaper Mulder stowed in the seat pocket. Mulder gives her a mock shocked look and hands her The Magic Bullet. After several minutes of typing, Mulder passes the laptop back to Scully. She reaches for it, but Mulder releases it before she has it in hand. Kirby catches it and passes it to Scully. Scully passes The Magic Bullet back to Mulder and proceeds to read Mulder's passage. Mulder notes this but says nothing. He stows the paper in the seat back and closes his eyes. His rest is soon disrupted by loud, angry noises. He opens his eyes and looks in the direction of the sounds. He's surprised to see Scully beating the keyboard with her hands. "What's wrong?" he asks, a bit shocked by her outburst. The man in the center seat joins Mulder in watching as Scully manhandles the computer, jiggling it almost violently from side-to-side. "The stupid thing just quit," she answers, still trying to beat some life into it. "Is it the battery?" Mulder asks. Scully gives him a foul look. "I recharged it overnight and it didn't give me a low battery warning. It just went black." Mulder reaches, once again, over the man. "Hand it here and let me try." Scully gives him an even fouler look and pulls the laptop away from his hand. "How's that going to help?" "Maybe I can figure out what's wrong with it," he explains evenly. "Mulder, it's black, see." She turns the screen towards him and flicks the on-off switch on the side. "That's what's wrong with it." "Just pass it here and let me try," he pleads. "Fine." She shoves the computer into his hand with such force Mulder has to brace himself against the man in the center seat. The man leans back against the seat. "Sorry," Mulder mumbles as he sits up, putting the laptop on his lap. Clearly uncomfortable, the man shifts in his seat. "Would you two like to sit together? I'd be happy to exchange seats with one of you. I know my wife and I hate to sit apart when we fly." "No, thanks" Mulder replies. Scully shakes her head. Mulder tries for several minutes to get the malfunctioning machine to respond. None of his attempts meet with any success. He looks back at Scully who's eyeing him stubbornly. "Why don't you take it to Langly when we get back?" he suggests. "I think I'll try tech support first." "Can I help?" Kirby asks. Mulder and Scully turn to the man in the center seat. He shifts in his seat under the scrutiny. "I know something about computers," he offers in explanation. "I thought you said you were a grad student," Mulder reminds him. "Yeah, I am. But, I also conduct seminars on Y2K problems. So, perhaps I could..." "Thanks, but I'll try tech support when we get home," Scully answers as she reaches over him again, taking the laptop from Mulder. She puts it back into its case and stows it under her seat. Kirby clears his throat. "Now, really, I don't mind if you two want to sit together. Like I said before, I know how hard it can be when you have to sit apart from your spouse. You could talk a lot eas..." "No," they both reply firmly. Silence descends as Scully begins reading the airline magazine and Mulder returns to his nap. Kirby shrugs and picks up his newspaper again. Reagan National Airport Washington, D.C. The man exits the plane before Mulder and Scully. He stops near the gate desk to get his car keys out. Mulder and Scully pass by as he digs in his briefcase for the elusive keys. He fights his way through the crowd that has gathered at the gate desk, entering the wide hallway leading to the exit. Behind him, the gate attendants are suddenly very excited behind the desk. "What happened?" the male attendant asks. "Looks like the computer's down," the female attendant answers, her voice a strained whisper so as not to alarm the waiting passengers. "Did you just say the computer's down?" one passenger asks. The man continues towards the escalator heading downstairs. As he passes, computers and other electronic equipment people are using along his path falters. He doesn't seem to notice at all. He steps onto the escalator but a third of the way down it stops. Much complaining can be heard from the other escalator riders, as they all have to climb down the escalator. He passes the rental car desks in the baggage claim area and exits the airport. In his wake, the computers at the rental car desks have gone down and the baggage claim carousels have come to a screeching halt. Chaos descends. Outside, the man calmly walks to his car, heading home. Arlington, VA A week later Sara Kirby pours hot water over a teabag in a mug, preparing her morning cup of tea. After a minute or two, she tosses the teabag in the trash, adds some milk to the mug, and carries it into the living room. The computer monitor glows in the dim morning sunlight coming in through the windows. Sara sets the mug on the desk next to the computer and sits down at the keyboard. Her husband, Yale, comes down the stairs. He's the man who sat between Mulder and Scully on the flight from Atlanta to Washington. He approaches and kisses her on the neck. She smiles and continues typing. "Whatcha doing?" he asks leaning over her shoulder. "E-mailing Jessica." "Tell her to stay away from the natives," he remarks before standing and heading into the kitchen. Sara grins and types her husband's comments. "You know, she's going to take offense. She loves L.A." "The sun's frying her brain," he yells from the kitchen as he prepares a cup of coffee. "Crap!" Sara hears banging, bumping, and cursing coming from the kitchen. "What's wrong?" she calls, continuing to type. Two final bumps are heard before silence. She looks up from the computer. "Yale?" The kitchen door opens suddenly and bangs against the wall. Sara jumps slightly. "That damn coffee maker! Motor burned out. I had to toss it in the sink." "What?" concern rises in her voice and she runs into the kitchen to check the situation. Yale slams his palm against the sofa table before heading outside. A few minutes later, Yale reenters, carrying the newspaper. At the same moment, Sara exits the kitchen carrying a cup of coffee. She walks to him and hands him the cup with a flourish. Then, she meets his eyes and points a finger at his chest. "You, sir, stay away from my appliances." Yale becomes defensive. "All I did..." "I know. All you did was try to make it work. You've got bad karma or something." She punctuates this with a light kiss, before turning on heel and returning to the computer. Yale watches her before taking a long sip of his coffee. "Hey, Yale? Show me how to attach a file." Yale comes up behind her chair. He sets the cup next to his wife's cup. Standing next to her chair, he motions with his hand for her to get up. She stands and he slips into the chair with his hand around the mouse. "Okay," he begins his instruction, "you just click attach....then...click where the file is... What file is it?" Sara, a bit perturbed by her husband's authoritative attitude, replies curtly, "It's the pictures you took of our trip to Ocean City last weekend." "You asked me to help..." he explains, recognizing his wife's semi- angry tone. "To help, not boss or preach to. Show me," she pleads. He looks up at her and relents. "Those pics are her in the download file. You click on the download file and it shows you all the files you have in there. Then... click on the pic you want to send..." "All of them," she interjects. He looks up at her briefly. "Okay, but you have to pick each one separately and then..." Suddenly the screen goes black. They both stare open-mouthed at the machine. "Yale... what happened? It's not supposed to do that, is it?" "No, it's not..." He's tapping at the keyboard, trying in vain to wake the computer. "Damn thing... no....not again..." "Yale, something's wrong with this thing. It's the third time in two weeks it's gone down. Did we get a lemon?" "Sara, we've had this computer for two years. They must not be fixing it completely." "What now?" "I'm gonna take it to John over at the computer lab." Sara looks at him. "Will he have time? Isn't it finishing his thesis?" "I'm gonna beg." Marymount Business School 9:04 am Yale carries the computer drive awkwardly in his arms down the stairs and through the hall to the computer lab. He enters the large room filled with computers, printers, and other equipment, looking for his friend. He spots him across the room, sitting at a monitor, the letters from the screen reflected in his glasses. There is one woman working on a computer two rows over from his friend. Otherwise, the lab is empty. Yale adjusts the drive in his grip and walks towards his friend. John Wilson spots his friend and what he's carrying. "No," he says flatly. "Hey, John. How's it going?" Yale asks warmly, ignoring his friend's negative remark. "Forget it, Yale. Ain't gonna work. I don't have time. This thing's a bitch! I'm sleeping at this goddamn terminal these days," John grouses. "Come on, man. It's been in the shop twice in the last two weeks. And they still haven't fixed it. Plus, they're draining me dry with the repair costs. You know I can't afford it. Come on... please... don't make me beg." "You ARE begging." John considers it for a couple minutes. "Shit! God, I'm too easy. Alright, what's wrong with it now?" "I don't know," Yale answers setting the drive down on the table next to where John's sitting. "It went black this morning while I was helping Sara with something." He takes a seat at the station next to John's. "What apps were you running?" "She was online writing an e-mail. I was attaching some pics when it went into the coma." John considers this. "It may take a couple days, y'know? They're breathing down my neck." "I understand..." Yale stands and extends his hand. John clasps his hand and they shake hands briefly. "Thanks, man," Yale says as he turns to leave. "I'll check back with ya. We need to make plans to go get some beers." There's no reply from John. Yale turns to see his friend frantically punching at the keyboard and asks, "What?" John grunts something unintelligible. Yale walks back to John. "What's wrong?" John says in a low exasperated voice, "It just went black. It won't come up. Goddamn it! Looks like the Windows files crapped out. Dammit!" He slams his hands against the table. "Did you save your work to a disk?" "Do I look like an idiot?" John asks, annoyed. "I am not a friggin' idiot." He pushes the button on the disk drive and removes the floppy disk. "I may be a Ph.D candidate, but I'm not stupid!" Yale sighs with relief and leaves John to determine what's wrong with the machines. 2 hours later Yale answers the phone in his office. "Hello?" "Yale... stay out of my computer lab." It was John. "What?!" "You can't come back to the lab." "Why not?" "Because I had six machines crap out this morning. SIX!!" "Why are you telling me?" "Because it's the same thing hat happened to your computer. He hard drive's clean." "Clean?!" "CLEAN! It's been wiped clean. Everything has to reloaded. I just figured out what happened... took me TWO HOURS just to figure that out!" "How could that happen?" "I don't know.... you carrying a magnet or something in your pocket?" Yale laughs. "I'm serious, man. What did you do?" "Hey, John. It wasn't me. I don't know what happened, but I didn't DO anything. I think you better see if there was some kind of power surge." "I did. Nothing." Silence. "Look, I gotta go. I've got a lot of programming to do to get these things up again. Bye." Click. Yale hangs up the phone and stares at the wall for several minutes. Marketing 103 Rm. 265 11:05 am Yale Kirby is just beginning his lecture to a class of about 40 students. Standing to the side, he begins discussing the marketing strategies of the 1980's and turns to the screen in the front of the room. "On this chart you can see the marketing strategies employed by..." He stops his lecture as the screen fades and then comes back. He walks towards the laptop controlling the screen. "These strategies were developed by strategists trying to capitalize on the boom in the 80's." He reaches the LED display and laptop. He checks the connections on the LED machine. As he touches it, the screen goes dark. He checks the on/off switch and the connections again. Nothing works. He looks over at the keyboard. It is still on. As he touches the keyboard to shut it down, the screen seems to melt and then goes black. Panic sweeps across his face and he pecks violently at the keys. The computer doesn't respond. The students exchange nervous looks as his attempts become more furious. Kirby stops his furtive pounding and closes his eyes. After taking a deep breath, he looks up at the students. He can plainly see their concern. "Well, looks like modern technology has failed us," he says, attempting to lighten the mood, but his voice is not light. He is clearly upset by this turn of events. He decides to continue the lecture without the computer equipment. As he walks around the room lecturing and asking questions, two students in the back row are using laptops to take notes. He walks by before heading back to the front of the room. When he reaches his desk, he looks up at the students. One of the students in the back has his laptop raised above his head. Checking his seating chart before speaking, Kirby asks, "Mr. Halford, what are you doing?" Mr. Halford jerks at the mention of his name. Everyone in the room is looking at him. He sets the laptop down on his desk. "Well.... um... my laptop quit. I was just...um... trying to figure out what was wrong with it." The blood drains from Kirby's face. "Y...you say y..your computer quit?" "Yes, sir. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disrupt class." Halford becomes silent as he shuts the laptop and picks up his pen, clearly wanting to blend back into the class. "Hey, man, mine crashed, too." It was the student two seats away who was also using a laptop. "Really?" Halford asks. "Geez... what could've caused 'em both to go..." Kirby is standing at the front of the room, motionless and white-faced. "Ya think there's something in this room?" the other student asks. Kirby has a faraway expression on his face and remains silent and still for several minutes. The entire class is staring at him in confusion. Finally, a female student in the front row calls to him, "Mr. Kirby?" He doesn't respond. "Mr. Kirby?" she says louder. "Are you okay?" This pulls him out of his reverie. He glances around at the class. "Guys, I'm sorry... I'm not feeling well right now...I'm going to dismiss class and we'll pick up here next time." He rushes from the room and doesn't even collect the defunct laptop. He heads to the elevator to get to his office on the fifth floor. He presses the button to summon the elevator. As he waits, he tries to calm himself, telling himself that it's impossible, crazy. "No way can it be," he thinks. But, a nasty thought nags in the back of his head: "What else could it be? It happens whenever you're there." He presses the button several times, anxiety building inside him. He hears a loud noise come from behind the closed doors and then an alarm sounding. He looks up and sees that the display above the doors is now dark; no floor is lit. Panic shows on his face. He's startled by muffled yells coming from behind the closed doors. A woman passing by asks, "Yale, what's going on with the elevator? Are they yelling?" Kirby doesn't answer, trying to stay in control. "Oh my God! They're stuck! The elevator shut down!" She heads into the nearest office. Yale hears her tell the woman in the office, "Patty, call security. The elevator's stuck." This is the final straw. He runs to the stairs taking them two at a time as he darts to escape. "This isn't happening. It's not possible. It can't be," he mumbles to himself as he slams open the exit door and runs away from the building at breakneck speed. End Part 1 Part 2 J. Edgar Hoover Building 10 days later Skinner is flipping through a file on his desk as Kimberly calls over the intercom, "Sir, Agents Mulder and Scully are here." "Send them in." Skinner closes the folder and looks to the door as it opens. Scully steps in, followed by her partner. "Agents, have a seat." They sit and wait for Skinner's instructions. Scully brushes back an errant strand of hair as Mulder straightens his tie. Skinner takes in the two agents, contemplating the amazing strength of their partnership. He marveled at not only the length of time that they'd been partners but the strength of their bond. They worked in synch. He never had such a partnership in all his years in the field... Suddenly, he realizes the agents are staring at him in confusion and looks back down at the folder in front of him. An uncomfortable silence reigns for several minutes. Mulder and Scully glance nervously at each other, trying to figure out what they had done to earn a rebuke from Skinner, since that appeared to be what he was about to do. "Sir," Mulder begins his preemptive strike. "Is there a problem? I mean, Scully and I haven't had a case since before the Thanksgiving holiday. We've only consulted with some local PDs and..." "No," Skinner interrupts, "there isn't a problem. I called you in to provide assistance to the local P.D. in Newburyport. They have a ... unique situation they're working." "Newburyport? Massachusetts?" Mulder asks. "Yes." "What is the unique situation, sir?" Scully inquires. "They have a man in custody who has confessed to injuring others, a possible murder, and damaging thousands of dollars worth of electronic equipment." Mulder and Scully are confused. "If he confessed..." Mulder starts. "... what's the problem?" Scully finishes. Skinner sits up straight in his chair. "He claims that he can kill computers just by being near them. That he has the Y2K bug," Skinner explains a bit hesitantly. "He's a walking Y2K bug?" Mulder gets out, unsuccessfully stifling a laugh. "That's his claim. That it's some kind of medical condition." "Where does the murder tie in?" Scully asks. "Well, he went to see his mother at a nursing home in Newburyport. The man in the next room had a pacemaker. The man died when his pacemaker stopped working. The man in custody claims he was the reason the pacemaker failed." Scully is incredulous. "Sir, I hardly think this requires any assistance from the FBI. The man obviously needs a psych evaluation." Mulder nods his agreement. "There is more. There seems to be some truth to what he claims. He is a grad student and something of a Y2K expert. The computer lab manager at Marymount College claims that numerous computer hard drives were wiped clean as the man walked past them. He can find no other explanation for it." "Sir, I have to agree with Scully on this one. I find it hard to believe his claim. Computers fail for numerous reasons. I myself have managed to kill three here at the FBI. And I'm on my third computer at home. This man must be delusional." Skinner nods and hands a file folder to Mulder. "I'd agree, however, local P.D. is ... concerned. Two computers in their office died when he was seated at a nearby desk. The disks were wiped clean, just like the computers at Marymount. They're actually holding him on unrelated charges." "Unrelated charges?" Scully queries as Mulder peruses the file. "Seems he stole a 1965 Ford Mustang from a 70-year old woman in Gloucester. He got caught during an armed robbery at a convenience store. He claims he needed the money to get to some small Pacific island where they don't have computers and the car because he can't drive any newer cars because of the computers." The agents become silent, Scully considering this new information and Mulder continuing to read the file. The silence is shattered as Mulder blurts out, "His name is Yale Kirby II? YK2?!" Skinner nods and Scully takes the folder from Mulder. "Agents, I want you to go up there and check out this claim. Try to find a logical reason for the computer failure. The local police say they're over their heads on this one. So, we'll provide the requested assistance. You leave this afternoon. Have a good trip." Skinner stands signaling the meeting is over. Mulder and Scully stand, also. "We'll debunk away, sir," Mulder remarks, sarcastically, as he moves behind Scully towards the door. Scully stops and looks sharply at the back of Mulder's head. Skinner notes her reaction to Mulder's quip as she falls in step behind her partner. Next morning Mulder follows Scully through the doors into the Newburyport Police Station. They walk down the hallway in silence, looking for the sergeant's office. They reach a central desk area and a uniformed officer greets them. "May I help ya?" the officer asks in a clipped Massachusetts accent. "I'm Agent Scully. This is my partner, Agent Mulder," Scully informs as she shows the officer her badge. Mulder follows this exchange with minimal interest. "We're here to see Sergeant Brindle." The officer nods quickly, acknowledging her request. He picks up the phone, but is interrupted by a loud voice from across the room. "Don't bother, Buckley," Sgt. Brindle calls in a booming voice. Mulder and Scully study him as he lumbers across the room in just a few steps. He's quite a large fellow, standing a full 6'5". Scully notes his large hands and tattooed forearm. She couldn't quite make out the tattoo. Mulder observes the slight limp, favoring his left leg. "Mulder and Scully from the Bureau, right? Sergeant Brindle," he introduces himself as he shakes both agents' hands. "You're here about the Kirby case. Where do ya wan'ta start?" "What do you have? And what do you want from us?" Mulder, uncharacteristically, gets to the point quickly. Brindle sniffs briefly motioning for Mulder and Scully to follow him. "He's a real nutcase. But, I've got three officers who insist he's the reason the computers crashed. And I've got two computers in the shop. The techs tell me the hard drives were completely erased," Sgt. Brindle expounds as he walks Mulder and Scully through the station. "And he's being held on charges of armed robbery and carjacking?" Scully asks, as they stop at a door. "Yeah. We didn't put him together with the carjacking until he starting singing. We arrested him at the convenience store. He really screwed the crap out of that one!" "How so?" Mulder asks. "He dropped his wallet when he pulled the gun out of his pants pocket. He picked it up, but he his Virginia driver's license fell out. We caught him not five blocks from the store." Scully smiles and shakes her head at this. Mulder wisecracks, "He's not gonna be on America's Most wanted anytime soon, huh?" Brindle shakes his head. "Yeah, he isn't exactly a criminal mind, if ya ask me. But, he's got some major problems up there," Brindle explains as he taps his the side of his head. "Once the officers got him here he started screaming that he had to be kept away from computers. He was hysterical. The officers ignored his pleas and started to process him. Then, the computers went down. After that, he stood up on the chair and started preaching that he was the Millenium Bug. That kinda tipped us off that he was unstable." Sgt. Brindle unlocks the door. "Why didn't you send him to a psych facility for evaluation?" Mulder queries as they follow Brindle into the holding cell area. "Wanted to, but he went ballistic every time we tried to move him. So, we brought in a doc from Anna Jacques. He just finished with him 'bout a half hour ago." They stop in front of a cell where a man lies on a cot, staring wide- eyed at the ceiling. "Mr. Kirby," Brindle calls through the bars. "Some agents from the FBI want to talk to you about your... problem." Kirby doesn't move. Several minutes of awkward silence pass. "Mr. Kirby, will you talk with us?" Mulder asks. "Yeah, sure," the man says in a low voice. He slowing rises to a sitting position, resting his head back against the wall. "Mr. Kirby, do you know why you're being held here?" Scully asks. Kirby closes his eyes. He nods his head slowly. "I killed him," he groans. "You're being held for carjacking and armed robbery, not murder. There is no evidence that you murdered anyone," Scully continues. Kirby stays still for several seconds. Suddenly, he jerks to a standing position and yells, "I killed him! Don't you understand? I killed him! He's dead because of me!" He beats his chest with his the palm of his hand. "Me! Because of what I can do! And I can't stop it!" He stops yelling and looks at Mulder and Scully, seeing them for the first time. His eyes widen. "Oh, no! No, No No! You're all gonna come back on me, aren't you? Look, I don't have any money! I'm sorry for what happened. I didn't mean it. Please don't sue me. It'll only hurt my wife and she didn't so anything wrong. Please don't," he begs with tears in his eyes. Mulder and Scully stare back at Kirby, total bewilderment on their faces. "What the hell are you talking about? Suing? Who's gonna sue?" It is Brindle who asks the question. "They will," he motions to the agents, "because I killed their laptop and his game. Look, I'm sorry! Can't your port-a-let company afford another laptop?" Kirby rambles. Mulder's face brightens with realization. Scully still is perplexed. "The plane, Scully. That flight from Florida a couple weeks ago? The laptop died and my Gameboy bit it." He looks at her expectantly. Recognition seeps into Scully's eyes. Brindle's heard enough. "Port-a-let business? Alright, Kirby, that's enough..." "No, sergeant, it's alright," Scully explains. She turns to Mulder and he meets her gaze. Mulder takes a step towards Kirby's cell. "Mr. Kirby, on that flight, I'm very sorry to have led you to believe my partner and I were in a different line of work. We are not in business. We are FBI agents from Washington who have come here to try to get to the bottom of what is going on." Kirby's eyes widen with horror. "FBI?" his voice fades as he turns away from Mulder. "Oh, shit." He begins to pace and rake his fingers through his hair. "Mr. Kirby," Scully asks. "Will you sit down with us and tell us what happened?" All three watch from outside the cell as Kirby stops pacing. After considering his options for a few minutes, he looks towards them. He laughs nervously for a long time before finally answering, "Sure!" Interrogation Room Newburyport P.D. 10 minutes later Kirby sits at the table staring at the opposite wall as Mulder and Scully sit facing him. "Mr. Kirby," Mulder attempts to gain Kirby's attention. Kirby ignores this request and continues to stare past the agents. Mulder looks to Scully for assistance. She wordlessly informs him she doesn't have ant ideas. He thanks her with a wince. He returns his attention to Kirby. "Mr. Kirby," he prompts louder. "Why do you think you killed that man?" Kirby abruptly focuses his gaze on Mulder. "Because I did," he spits out forcefully. "I know I did it. Just by being there I did it! His pacemaker crapped out because of me. Because I was there. I did it!" he yells at the agents. He drops his gaze to the table and continues to mumble repeatedly and almost inaudibly, "I did it... I did it... I did it..." "How?" Scully interjects, commanding Kirby's attention. He stops his rambling and stares at Scully. "How did you stop his pacemaker?" Kirby continues staring at Scully, but she doesn't waver under the intense scrutiny. Finally, he speaks, "I caught it. Don't you understand? They said it's impossible, but I did it. It should be impossible to catch a computer virus. But it must be possible because I did! I don't want it but I have it!" His volume and excitement levels increase as he speaks. "You hear me?" he asks, leaning over the table and pleading to Scully. "I DON'T WANT IT!" Scully is momentarily unnerved by Kirby's yelling, but quickly regains her composure. Mulder tries to calm Kirby. "Mr. Kirby, why don't you have a seat and tell us what you mean?" Kirby slowly sits back. "Now, you're telling us that you have..." "The Millenium bug," Kirby interrupts loudly. "The Y2K virus. I have it! I kill computers! I have it! I have it! I HAVE IT!" "Do..." Mulder attempts to regain Kirby's attention. Kirby stops and looks at Mulder. "Do you know how you got the virus? Or where?" Kirby looks very seriously at both agents. "Oh, I'd be delighted," he responds in a genteel voice. Then, as he leaps at them across the table, he yells, "How the hell am I supposed to know that? If I did I wouldn't be here! I'd be out there straightening this out. What a stupid question! What do you want from me?" Kirby paces the room, continuing the irrational diatribe. Mulder motions with his head towards the door. He and Scully rise and head in that direction. "Help me." Mulder and Scully stop and turn around. "I just wanna go home to my wife. I want my life back. Help me, please?" Kirby pleads. "We'll do our best," Mulder assures. "You're going to have to talk to some doctors about this. That will help us help you." "Doctors?" Kirby loses his composure, becoming very agitated. "Doctors don't know crap! I'm not crazy!" He stops suddenly and looks at the agents. He speaks again, in a low voice. "I just wanna go home. I can't live like this. I can't. Please! I can't! I can't!" Kirby collapses to the floor, sobbing inconsolably. As they exit the police station, Mulder stops and inhales deeply. "Hmmm. Smell that Scully?" Scully turns around and inhales shortly. She shakes her head. "No. Take a deep breath," he instructs. Scully inhales again, audibly. He smiles in expectation. "Mulder, what am I supposed to be smelling?" "You don't smell that?" he queries. She just stares at her partner, a slightly amused expression on her face. "The Atlantic. The ocean. You really can't smell it?" She looks down and fumbles in her coat pocket for the car keys. Mulder closes his eyes and the smile drains from his face. "Reminds me of the Vineyard," he intones in a low voice. "You could always smell the ocean. Always..." Scully, keys in hand now, studies his face as his eyes suddenly pop open. "Hey, Scully wanna take a little side trip?" Confusion shows on her face. "Side trip?" "Yeah, I've been neglecting the Vineyard house. I haven't been there in over a year. What do you say we go down there and check things out?" Scully's head drops and she resumes her walk towards the parking lot. "Mulder..." she chastises. "C'mon Scully," Mulder follows. "Tomorrow's Saturday. We can drop off our report and be on our way to the Vineyard by 8. Let me check out the house. And I can show you all the places of my idyllic childhood. One night on the Vineyard?" He punctuates his plea by raising his eyebrows playfully. Mulder Home West Tisbury, MA Next Day 1Pm Mulder grabs a handful of leaves from the gutter and tosses them down to the ground. Standing on a ladder perches against the gutter, his unsteadiness is quite apparent. He has his feet spread as far apart as possible on the rung, hoping a wider stance will prevent his plunging to the earth. He can hear Scully raking, but can't see her. She's around the corner of the house in the backyard, by the sound of it. Refocusing on the task at hand, he grabs another handful of leaves and tosses it down. Then, he feels it: a tickling on his left forearm. He pulls off his left glove calmly, figuring he's gotten some leaves up his sleeve. He starts to pull up the sleeve of his New York Knicks sweatshirt, when something terrifying dawns on him: the leaf is moving. In reflex, he shoves his hand up his sleeve and quickly grabs the object. Drawing it out, his suspicion is confirmed- a huge tree roach. He slings the roach out of his hand towards the ground, but he uses more force than necessary. The ladder is knocked off-balance by his sudden, jarring movement. He grabs for the gutter to stabilize, but overcompensates. The ladder lurches in the opposite direction. "Oh, sh..." Scully rounds the corner of the house and stops short as the ladder falls in front of her. Startled, she looks down at the ladder for several seconds. Then, she realizes Mulder had been on that ladder. "Mulder?" she calls as she scans the area. When there is no sign of him and no response, she calls louder, "Mulder!" She searches for him, her emotions just this side of panic. She turns toward the bushes beside the house. She hears a muffled groan and the bushes move. "Mulder?" She rushes towards the area of movement. An arm suddenly appears above the branches and leaves. Several minutes later Inside the house "I think it was an alien cockroach." Mulder winces as Scully dabs the cuts on his hand with peroxide. He inhales sharply as the antiseptic stings and his hand involuntarily jerks back. Scully pulls the hand back towards her. Mulder shifts his legs and repositions the ice bag on his knee. "Alien cockroach?" Scully intones, continuing her first aid procedures. "Are you sure? Couldn't it have been one of those robot cockroaches you found before?" Mulder gives her a look of disgust. "A roach," he says with finality before wincing again as Scully applies the bandage to his hand. "A huge, ugly alien roach that was probably trying to burrow under my skin." Scully finishes her work in silence. As she repacks her first aid bag, she asks, "Want something to drink?" "I'd love one of those beers we bought." Scully eyes him briefly before heading to the kitchen. "How does your knee feel? Does it seem like the swelling's going down?" she calls from the kitchen. Mulder lifts the ice bag and studies his knee. "It's working, Dr. Scully." When Scully returns, Mulder is quiet and contemplative. She hands him a can. He takes it, but pays no attention to it. Scully sits across from him and studies him. "Mulder?" He looks her way, though his mind is far away. "Is that what you wanted?" she motions with her head towards the can in his hand. He finally looks at the can. Root beer. He smiles mildly before returning to his thoughts. She takes a sip of her drink and several minutes of quiet pass. Mulder is replaying the Roberts' case in his mind. Several points are disturbing him. That's an awful lot of coincidences. Even his Gameboy had failed as had Scully's laptop. Roberts is unbalanced, but what if that's was just the result of the stress of being able to kill computers? Mulder's enjoying trying to figure out the puzzle when he realizes Scully is speaking to him. "... and I'm selling the UFO poster in the office and donating the profits to The Skeptics Society." "Hmmm?" Mulder asks, his attention returning to Scully. When she doesn't respond, he tries a different tact. "What's it like to debunk stuff all the time?" Scully's expression fades as the color seems to drain from her face. "Mulder, I don't do that all the time. And you make it sound like I enjoy it, relish it. I don't. It was my job." "C'mon, Scully, admit it! You enjoyed it some." "Mulder, it was my job," she reiterates. Mulder gives her a look of exaggerated disbelief. "It was my assignment. Mulder... I... I," she stumbles over her protests as Mulder watches, clearly amused. She looks away, anger washing over her face. When she meets his eyes again, her cheeks are flushed and fire blazes from her eyes. "What is this newfound obsession with debunking, Mulder?" Mulder's expression quickly changes to a questioning look. "Obsession? Me?" "Mulder, y..you keep bringing it up. Do you really believe I enjoy proving you wrong? It was my job, what THEY assigned me to do. My aim was not always to prove you wrong or debunk your ideas. I just put those ideas to a scientific test. With science backing your ideas, no one could say you were a "crackpot" or "off the wall." I wanted to lend validity to your reports. You know, sometimes I think you bring up some truly bizarre theories just to irritate me. Or to test me and make me work harder. And I don't understand that, Mulder?' She hesitates a second, refocusing. "So, Mulder, what is all this debunking? Why is it suddenly your favorite word?" Mulder has been listening to and watching Scully intently. His expression has gone from amusement to completely serious. Now, he's simply studying her face. Scully meets his gaze, her eyes ablaze with determination and anger. He continues studying her face as unabashed admiration and love seep onto his face. "You like steamers, Scully?" Scully blinks and her forehead furrows in consternation and confusion. "There's a great clam bar just down the road." He stands, taking the ice pack from his knee. "Come one, let's get changed. I'm starving." He walks towards the back of the house and disappears from sight. Scully watches him leave, in shock. Then, she clenches her fists and bangs them against the arms of the chair in utter frustration. End Part 2 Part 3 Paddy's Clam Bar "I've been thinking about this case," Mulder announces as he pops a steamed clam into his mouth. Scully sets the lobster roll down on her plate and studies Mulder as she swallows. "What if," Mulder intones in a muffled voice before stopping to finish his mouthful. "What if he CAN kill computers? If he can do exactly what he claims?" Scully just looks at him. "I mean, look at all the computer that crashed when he was there. All of those can't just be a coincidence." Scully continues her stare. Finally, she speaks. "Mulder, are you suggesting that Mr. Kirby..." "Yale Kirby II. YK2," Mulder interjects. "...Yale Kirby II," Scully continues, "IS the Y2K bug? That he is a walking Millenium bug?!" Mulder winces slightly. "It always sounds bizarre when you feed it back to me like that. But, yeah, what if he is? There has got to be an explanation for why all that equipment crashed. They CAN'T be coincidences." "Mulder, the Y2K bug is simply a problem with some older computers that cannot handle the year 2000. They will read "00" as "1900." That would cause the computer to lose information stored after 1900, virtually all the files and programs. No person can cause that." Mulder takes a gulp of his beer. "But what IF he can cause hard drives to erase? What if he can do what he claims?" Scully leans forward. "Mulder there is no precedent for that. I can't think of..." Mulder interrupts her. "What if he was magnetic? A magnet will erase disks and a hard drive. What if he had some polarity reversal that could cause hard drives to erase?" He watches Scully expectantly. Scully considers this carefully before answering. "If he were magnetic, wouldn't all metal things stick to him? Wouldn't he be stuck to the cell bars?" Sarcasm drips from her words and she takes a sip of iced tea. "There you go... debunking, again." Scully's head snaps up as she meets Mulder's gaze, anger flaring. She pushes back from the table. She begins where she left of at the house. "What is this with debunking? Are you obsessed with the word? You have such a one-track mind! Is that really all you think I ever do? You think I relish it?" Her voice has become a hoarse whisper. "Because if you do, what have we been doing all these years as partners? Is it always 'Mulder theorizes and Scully debunks it?' Is that what you think it's been? Because if that's what you think..." She stops as Mulder reaches across the table and grabs her hand. She tries to pull back, but he won't let go. She stares at his hand. "No." It hangs in the air for a couple minutes as he studies her face and she studies his hand. "That is not what I think," Mulder begins in a low voice. Scully meets his gaze. "We are partners. I said it before-- you keep me honest. You don't just debunk my theories. You hypothesize and most of the time you do a fantastic job validating my theory. Sometimes, I validate yours. You make me work harder, which is what I need. I can't sit back now, and you won't let me. You tell me the truth. I don't want or need a "yes" man." Scully remains silent, listening intently. Mulder's voice drops as he continues. "Look. The debunking stuff was just curiosity. Plus, I enjoy needling you." He rubs her hand lightly with his thumb. Then, his expression turns serious. "Plus, I wonder what it's like for you sometimes. The voice of reason crying out in my desert of alien conspiracies." Scully's eyes smile as her mouth remains serious. "It can be. But, you make me work, too. Without your wild theories, I wouldn't have anything to put to the test of science. One thing's for sure," she adds and Mulder raises an eyebrow. "It's never boring." Mulder smiles slightly and ponders her face. She leans forward and waits. "The polarity issue... we can check it out to see if we can help Mr. Kirby." Scully falls back into the chair, leaving Mulder's hand alone on the table. She closes here eyes and exhales sharply through her nose. December 30, 1999 Bridgewater Correctional Facility, Mass. The prison bus pulls through the gates as snow falls quietly on the prison grounds. It pulls to a stop at some double doors, which are opened by several guards. The guards approach the bus and are met by the driver and the bus guard. "More guests for the New Year's Party? Oh my! Jim, we'd better order more champagne and confetti," one of the guards quips dryly. "These are some real party animals for ya. From the mental ward," the driver informs. The prison guards all cringe noticeably. Finally, the guard in charge gets things moving. "Okay, let's get going." He turns towards the prisoners in the back of the bus, behind the metal gate. "Welcome to Bridgewater. We hope you find your stay here pleasant and relaxing. For your safety, we require the handcuffs and legchains be left on until you enter the building. The legchains will be removed once you're inside, but the handcuffs remain on until you are comfortably ensconced in your luxurious quarters. You are our guests for the duration of your stay. Therefore, we request that you do not attempt to leave until the end of your designated stay. Also, as our guests, we ask that you follow all the rules of this facility. When the gate is opened, please exit the bus in an orderly manner." The bus guard stands and opens the gate. The four prisoners shuffle forward through the gate and down the bus steps. Yale Kirby brings up the rear. His face has a blank expression as the snow hits it. He doesn't even seem to notice the flakes swirling about him. He dutifully follows the other prisoners inside the building. Once inside, they are herded into a processing room. Kirby stops behind a rather large prisoner, blocking his view. "We'll know be gathering information from you to make you stay here more enjoyable." he points to the two prisoners to Kirby's right. "You two will be first. Please come up to the desk and speak with the guards at the computer terminals." Kirby's head pops up and his expression quickly changes to fear. As the two prisoners move to the desk, the prisoner in front of Kirby shifts to the right and the blood drains from Kirby's face. He now has an excellent view of two guards seated behind a counter at computers. The prisoners are ar the counter talking to the guards. Kirby's eyes don't leave the computers as the other prisoners complete check in. "Kirby, let's go!" the guard yells. Kirby doesn't move, his gaze still fixed on the computers and fear flaming in his eyes. His jaw is cleched tight and his hands are balled into fists. "Kirby!" Thr guard grabs him by the arm. "Move!" He shoves Kirby towards the counter. Kirby backpedals quickly and wheels around. "No, I can't! Please, no!" The guard propels him, oce again, towards the counter. This time Kirby cannot stop his forward movement and lands hard against the counter, right next to a computer . He leaps back in horror. "NO! No computers! I cant't! You have to keep me away from all computers! Please! Don't you understand?" The guards move in to subdue the disorderly inmate. He continues to rail against them. The other inmates watch intently. "Keep me away from computers! Didn't they tell you? I can't go anywhere near 'em! Please! PLEASE!!" The guards move him to a small room opposite the processing room. They shove him against the far wall and lock the door. Kirby hits the floor hard. He doesn't attempt to get up. He lies on the floor, breathing hard. He's just regaining his composure when he's startled by a loud popping sound behind him. He sits up and turns around at the same time. A panicked look spreads over his face as he realizes where he is: the power relay room for the facility. Another loud popping sound comes from the control box against the opposite wall. He leaps to his feet, runs to the door, and pounds on it violently. "Get me outta here! HELP! GET ME OUTTA HERE NOW!" The two guards outside the door glance back at the door. "Some of these nutbirds shouldn't be allowed outta that hospital." "He don't seem ready to be here. Why the hell would they send him?" Kirby's pounding and screamed pleas continue from behind the locked door. The guards are surprised to hear an explosion from behind the door. One quickly grabs for his keys to opne the door. Kirby springs through the door as soon as it is opened. "You see what you did?! See what you did?! SEE!" he yells at the guards as they catch him. "What the hell did you do? Dammit! What the hell did you do in there?!" Kirby says nothing. He has a wild-eyed look. Suddenly, the entire facility is plunged into darkness. The guards struggle to retain their grasp on Kirby as they wait for the emergency lights come on. However, the lights do not come on. Yelling that seems to be coming from the opposite end of the hallway startles all three. They look to that direction, but can make nothing out in the darkness. Kirby's body goes limp and he hangs in the guards grasp as realization of what has happened washes over him. The younger guard notes Kirby's posture change and looks towards him. Yelling continues to eminate from down the hall and suddenly two gunshots join the din. All three men freeze, wide eyes looking down the hall. The younger guard asks the other guard, "What's the procedure here, Hank? What do we do?" Fear is clearly just below the surface. The other guard mustn't hear him, because he doesn't respond. Another gunshot is heard. "Hey!" he yells. "What the hell do we do?!" This gets the other guard's attention. He opens his mouth to speak, but is interrupted by two gunshots. This time the shots are closer. The officers fall to the gound beside Kirby, who is now rigid with fear. He stands stiffly, looking at the limp bodies flanking him. Suddenly, he is shoved against the door. He falls to the ground, startled. "Get up!" a hoarse voice orders. "We ain't got the time! Now, move" Kirby looks up and strains to see who is ordering him about. "I said MOVE!" A large forearm grabs his forearm and propels him through the door, which is no longer locked. The large bodied-man continues to use Kirby like battering ram, forcing their way through the facility. Finally, the last door opens out to the yard. Only the quarter moon high in the sky illuminates the yard as both men stop momentarily to adjust to the cold air and silence. The snow is now falling heavier since they arrived on the bus and they are struck by the eerie silence after the cacophony inside. The large man shoves Kirby ahead of him towards the gate. They move along the perimeter of the building and stop short when gunshots ring out, reverberating from the opposite side of the building. When silence returns, they move again, Kirby propelled along the wall by the large man. As they approach a corner, the large man takes the lead. He stops as he hears footsteps, forcing Kirby back against the wall next to him. Green grunts as his back slaps against the building. He glances at his captor and his eyes widen when he notes the man holds the gun up, fingering the trigger. Kirby closes his eyes and balls his hands into fists as the footsteps get louder. "Hey! Where ya going?" The call startles both prisoners. Kirby's eyes pop open and they both jump. "I'm goin' inside. This is crazy. I gotta see what's goin' on." The prisoners relax slightly as they realize it's two guards around the corner who are speaking. "That's not procedure. We're supposed to stay put at our posts. They'll contact us..." "How? There's no power. All we get is static on the radios. You hear all that yelling and gunfire just like me. They need help in there." "That's not our job." "Look, you can stay out here, but I'm gonna see what's goin' on and help." The guard starts walking again and the large man listens intently as the footsteps get ever closer. He works the gunhandle with the palm of his hand, the gun raised at chest level. When the footsteps seem to be at the corner, the prisoner steps out, aims at the nearest guard, and fires twice. He quickly turns his attention to the other guard a few feet away. The guard makes a move for his gun, but has no time as the prisoner fires two rounds again. Kirby stands rigid, pressed against the building with his eyes closed tightly. "C'mon!" the prisoner growls as he yanks Kirby behind him. Kirby opens his eyes and sees the guards' bodies lying in the blood- tinged snow as they proceed towards the gate. They arrive at the gate and the prisoner attempts to open it, but it doesn't budge. The man glances at Kirby, who's standing next to him with a blank expression on his face. The prisoner stuffs the gun in his belt and shoves the gate with all his might, but it will not move. After several shoves, the gate gives. The prisoner squeezes his large frame through the much smaller gap and then pulls Kirby through. He makes short work of the next gate and they find themselves outside the prison grounds. FREE!! X-Files Office New Year's Eve 1999 8:56 AM Mulder is studying papers spread over his desk as the sun shines brightly through the high windows in the basement office. He reaches for his coffee cup without looking up and takes a sip. He suddenly focuses on the cup as he realizes it's empty. He sets the cup aside and returns to the papers. Scully walks down the hallway outside the office, a stack of files in her arms. She takes the key from her pocket and attempts to unlock the door. She's a bit surprised to find it unlocked, but only momentarily. She swings the door open and finds Mulder standing in the doorway. "Why, Agent Scully, working on New Year's Eve? What happened to taking a holiday?" he asks, clearly pleased to see her. "You should ask yourself that question, Mulder," she deadpans as she moves to her desk and plops the files down. She turns back towards her partner. "So, what are you up to?" Mulder steps towards her. "Just doing my annual report on Dick Clark. Y'know, he's one of the original X-Files." Scully smiles slightly. "So," he begins to turn serious, "What are you doing here?" Scully shifts her feet. "Just catching up on some files," she explains while gesturing towards the files. Mulder doesn't but it for a second. "Scully, you're never behind in paperwork." Scully shifts some more before heading behind her desk and rifling through the files. Mulder moves closer towards her desk. He doesn't say anything, just continues to watch his partner intently, a wry smile peeking at the edges of his mouth. Scully continues shuffling the papers for a few minutes before cracking under the pressure. "Alright, Mulder," she says a bit angrily. "I was going over the Kirby case. It's been bothering me." Mulder's expression becomes serious. "You too?" Scully looks at him quizzically. "Too? You're working on that case, as well?" He nods and moves towards his desk. "It just doesn't fit, Scully. I've been researching other X-Files trying to determine a precedent." Scully glances at his paper-strewn desk. "Any luck?" He frowns and shakes his head. "Well, I found a little something." "What?" he moves towards her desk again. Scully grabs a file from her desk. "I checked out his computer connections. He was working with his brother-in-law, who was a computer technician. They ran a side business checking people's computers to ensure Y2K compliance." "And that proves...?" "He has knowledge of computers. Highly technical knowledge that he could use shut down those computers." "For what purpose Scully? He wasn't gonna make money off shutting down the computers, was he? He never mentioned to any of those affected that he could fix their problem. In fact, he was quite despondent over it." "Mulder, what if the mental imbalance came first? He snapped then began killing computers." Mulder considers this. "You and I both now the strains of grad school. Maybe he couldn't handle it." "What did his wife say? Any signs of mental problems?" "She noted lack of sleep and stress over researching his thesis and the Y2K lectures he did for the professor. Less than that has brought down strong students before." "Plausible yes, but..." "You don't think it's probable. So what's your theory?" she asks, waving the first two fingers of each hand in the air like flying quotation marks.] Mulder is taken back by this gesture for a second before answering. "My theory," he punctuates this by returning the gesture, "is that his polarity had been altered in a way that caused him to be magnetic. Magnets wipe computer drives clean." Scully glares at him as if he was from Mars. "Make me sound crazy, Scully.... I dare ya!" She opens her mouth to answer, when the phone rings. "Saved by the bell," he quips as Scully reaches for the receiver. "You don't need help there, Mulder," she returns the volley before answering the phone. "Scully." Mulder grins widely and turns back to his desk. He doesn't pay attention to Scully as she converses on the phone. Instead, he checks out some of the files, one of them clearly attracting his attention. "Mulder? Mulder?" Scully attempts to gain his attention. He continues reading the file and she exhales sharply in frustration. Finally, she grabs his chin and turns it towards her. Mulder is startled by the sudden movement and looks at her in question. He notes the frustration on her face and his eyes smile. "Yes, Scully? Something I can do for you? Or are you just manhandling my chin for the fun of it?" Scully can't help smiling at his smartass remark. She releases his chin and explains. "That was Skinner. Kirby has escaped from the Massachusetts prison where he had been transferred." I-95 Outside Hartford,CT The holiday traffic creeps along slowly. Among the cars, vans, and trucks is a older model Ford Minivan pulling a silver trailer. The large prisoner is alone in the car listening to Hank Williams, Jr. He's shoving a huge hamburger in his mouth. Back in the trailer, Kirby sits on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest. His eyes are unfocused and he's rocking back and forth slightly. The trailer lurches to a stop and he falls forward against the cabinet. He doesn't even move to catch himself. His face slams against the woodgrain veneer and he grunts in pain. Finally, he reaches up to his face with his hand and rubs his forehead where it slammed against the cabinet. He looks towards the door, which he found was locked from the outside when he'd tried it earlier. He'd leap from a trailer going 80 down the interstate to get away from the lunatic driving it. He'd seen him kill the two guards and the elderly couple whose trailer he was sitting in. Fear enters his eyes and he is almost in a panic as he hears the door being unlocked. What the hell did 'Charlie Manson' want now? The large prisoner appeared as the door opened. "Bathroom stop." Kirby rises automatically and moves to the door. He walks in front of the man into the men's room at the rest stop. He glances around, trying to find an opportunity to escape. But, he realizes he couldn't do it here: too many people that Manson could kill here. I may be crazy, he thought, but this guy is nutso and would kill anybody. He wouldn't take that chance. He'd already caused too many bad things. When they get back to the trailer "Manson" enters the trailer behind Kirby and shuts the door. Panic flashes in Kirby's eyes: "Manson" hadn't come into the trailer before. He'd just slammed and locked the door behind Kirby when they'd stopped for breakfast and lunch. "Manson" sits at the kitchen table and studies Kirby for several minutes. "You kill computers?" Kirby looks at "Manson" momentarily before looking down at his feet and putting his hands into his pockets. "I heard 'bout ya. They talked about you at the hospital. They said you killed all kinds of computers an' stuff. You caused all that at the prison, dincha?" Kirby doesn't move. "Ain't talking? Well, I don't need ya to talk. Just need ya there." Kirby looks up. "Wonderin' where we're headed?" Kirby nods almost imperceptibly. "New York. Times Square. It's New Year's, man. That's where everybody goes on New Year's Eve." Kirby finds the strength to speak. "Why?" "Why? You're my ticket to stopping IT." He emphasizes it strongly. "It?" "IT! The end. The apocalypse. IT!" He slams his fist on the table. "It can't happen! We have to stop it!" Kirby's eyes widen and his jaw drops a bit, as shock flows through his body. He wasn't expecting this. "Manson" leaps from his seat and slams Kirby against the wall. He has Kirby's shirt gripped in his extra large fists. "You thinkin'about not helping me? FORGET IT!" He shouts in Kirby's face. Kirby's nose crinkles up winces as the smell of onions and pickles hits it. "You will help me. Ain't no choice. HE won't win!" "Who?" Kirby asks in a low voice. "HIM!" "Manson's" eyes widen. "Dick Clark! He's the devil! Can't you see? He don't age! He stays the same. All the time! He's the devil! That's how he does it. He even made rock n roll. That's the work of the devil, for sure!" Kirby closes his eyes and his body goes limp. "Manson" yanks him up straight and Kirby's eyes pop open in fear. "You will help me stop him! YOU WILL!!" Again, the smell of pickles and onions reach Kirby's nose and his stomach rolls. "How?" he doesn't even recognize his own voice it's so strained. "Manson" loosens his grip and Kirby slumps against the counter. "They do everything with computers now. You'll just get close enough to shut down the power and cameras and stuff. Then, I'll do what I have to." Kirby listened to this, trying to remain standing. His breathing was short and focused, fear gripping him. "You WILL help, right?" He takes a step towards Kirby when his question isn't immediately answered. Finally, Kirby nods his head slowly. Skinner's Office 3:27 PM "We've got APBs up throughout the Northeast corridor," Warden Wilson informs the agents. "Any idea where they might be heading?" Scully asks from her seat at the conference table. "We've been trying to determine that. Our best guess is Canada. They can then find a place to hide until they decide where to go. Seems to be a popular destination for our escapees." "Not these guys," Mulder corrects. Scully glances at her partner, seated to her immediate right. "What are your thoughts, Agent Mulder?" Skinner inquires. Mulder looks up from the folder he's been studying. "This guy, Quinton Trainor, he's a millenmium freak. He believes the new millennium will bring the second coming of Christ and the end of the world. Surprised he was released to the penitentiary since he was unstable until 10 days ago." Mulder looks up at the warden. "Overcrowding at the mental ward," Wilson offers in explanation. "Hmm,"Mulder intones. "Anyway. He's got definite plans. He knows where he's going and what he's got to do." "And that is...?" Skinner prompts. Scully looks at the folder in front of Mulder as he continues. "New York City. Times Square, actually." "Times Square?" Skinner queries. "It's New Year's Eve. Times Square's the only place to be if the world's gonna end." Mulder regards Wilson and Skinner as they look at him for an explanation. Scully is reading the folder, but he knows she's listening intently. "Haven't you read his doctor's reports?" He asks Wilson. Wilson shrugs almost imperceptibly. Mulder frowns. "His doctors' reports paint the picture of an extremely disturbed man. He not only believes the millennium will bring the end of the world, he believes Dick Clark is the anti-Christ or Satan himself. Further, he has believes he can stop the coming apocalypse." "How?" This time it is Scully inquiring as Skinner is sitting dumbfounded. "The reports don't say. My guess is it involves the death of Dick Clark." Wilson finds his voice again. "So, they're heading to New York City, Agent Mulder?" His sounds very skeptical. "Do you, also, believe this man, Kirby, is the Millennium bug?" "The fact is several computers and other electronic equipment did fail in his presence. Those have been largely unexplained. But, I think it's imperative we locate these two before anyone else is killed. Our best bet will be looking at all points of entry to Manhattan Island and around Times Square in case they slip through." "Mulder, do you realize how many people are already assembled there? It started at like 6 this morning." Skinner answers for Mulder. "Then, they can't get through." He steps to his desk and picks up the phone. Wilson follows him leaving Mulder and Scully at the table. "Mulder," Scully begins in a low voice, "Trainor's plan?" "He's gonna kill Dick Clark. That's his plan." "How does Kirby figure into this?" Mulder shrugs slightly and grimaces in uncertainty. "I'm not sure. But I'll bet Trainor knows Kirby causes computers to crash. And he knows Kirby caused what happened at the prison last night." Mulder stands. Scully looks up at him, her brow furrowed. "We're leaving for New York in 10 minutes, agents. Gather what you need and meet me at the helipad," Skinner instructs, moving the phone away from his mouth momentarily. End Part 3 Part 4 New York City Near Times Square 8:59 PM Yale Kirby stumbles out of the trailer that's parked on a side street. He can hear the roar of the crowd from Times Square a few blocks away. He glances in that direction but is startled when he's shoved against the side of the trailer. The metal is cold against the side of his face and he tries to look back, wide- eyed. "Let's get a few things straight," Trainor says in a low voice right next to his ear. "You ain't goin' nowhere without me. You ain't saying anything. Just do as I say, got it?" "Look, I just want this over," Kirby whispers furtively. "I'm tired of this happening to me. I just want it to stop!" Trainor listens to this, confusion painting his face. After several seconds, he answers. "Don't you understand? God gave you this gift so you can help me. Together we can make it happen." "I want it to stop!" Kirby asserts loudly. "I didn't ask for this!" "I didn't ask for this neither. But, it is our duty. We have to make it right. We have t make straight His path." Kirby turns around and looks plaintively at Trainor. "How can you be so sure?" Trainor smiles. "Because, He told me in a dream. He needs me." Kirby considers Trainor's words before he drops his gaze. "This is too much to handle everyday," he says in a low voice. "If he gave it to me then he needs to take it back." Trainor considers this. "He probably will. Look, if this is your fate, your mission, then it will stop and you'll go back to being just you. Finish the mission." Kirby looks up, some hope shining in here eyes. "I want to go home and be with Sara. I just wanna be with Sara, again. I want things like they were." "God's will, it will be," Trainor asserts. "Now, let's do His will here." Kirby studies Trainor. Then, he nods in agreement and they are off on their mission. Times Square 10:13 PM "Happy New Year!" Scully flashes a cool look at the man who just yelled in her ear. He doesn't seem to notice her displeasure as he toasts her with his bottle of champagne before he moves along through the crowd. Mulder turns around and notes Scully's expression. He recognized her "full on guard" look with eyes scanning the crowd for their targets: Kirby and Trainor. He also noted that she was getting severely irritated by the yahoos that continuously were screaming millennial greetings to no one in particular and blowing their noisemakers right at their ears it seemed. Scully meets his eye and he throws her a look of commiseration before continuing to blaze their trail through the throngs of revelers. Scully plows into his back as he stops short. "What's wr..." Her question trails off as she peers around Mulder's arm and sees a man pushing an old shopping cart full of souvenirs has cut in front of Mulder. "Get yer Y2K toys here! All the millennial madness you need! Flashlights, glow sticks, t-shirts, inflatable Y2K bugs...." "How are we ever going to spot them in this crowd?" Scully yells up at Mulder. Mulder looks at her briefly before starting to walk again, only to be cut off again by more partygoers, following the shopping cart peddler. He watches them pass by, noisemakers and all. Finally, he seizes an opportunity to move again, grabbing Scully's hand and pulling her along behind him through the sea of people. He leads them to an alley that is less crowded. "Did I ever mention Scully that I hate crowds?" She surveys the crowd gathered around them: a group of teenagers sharing a bottle of champagne, three young couples with eyes only for each other, and a fairly large group of twenty-somethings talking loudly. "Mulder," Scully returns her attention to her partner. "What makes you think they're out here in the crowd? They're after Dick Clark, you said. So why aren't we over there?" "I think Skinner has that area covered. And I don't think they have a clue where Dick Clark is. They really haven't planned this Scully. Trainor has been thinking about this for a while. But, he is so delusional he believes God will lead him to Dick Clark. And Kirby is just caught up in this. The only plan Trainor has is for Kirby to kill the power and then he will kill Dick Clark. So, chances are that they're stuck in this crowd trying to find Dick Clark." "Then we should get back into the crowd to find them." Mulder nods a bit reluctantly as he looks back at the crowd, a constantly shifting sea of people. "I'd rather stay here and share some of their champagne," he nods towards the group of teenagers, " but let's go." Mulder heads back towards the throng, but halts when Scully grabs his arm. He looks down at her but she's looking at the crowd in front of them. He follows her gaze and spots Kirby moving through the crowd. Scully jumps into the crowd of people and heads after Kirby, with Mulder right behind her. Pushing past people, Scully spots Trainor in front of Kirby pulling him through the mass of people. Trainor is shoving people out of their way, fast losing his patience. "Where's my sign? Where's the sign? Please God! The sign!" "Yale Kirby and Quinton Trainor. Federal agents. You're under arrest." Scully has narrowed the gap and is within an arm's length of them. Both men spin around to see Scully moving towards them with her handcuffs in hand and Mulder right behind her. "Federal agents?" A woman next to Mulder yells. "Oh my God! TERRORISTS!" The crowd panics and people start shoving in every direction. Mulder shoves forward towards Trainor, but the crowd pushes him backwards, sending him reeling into a group of panicked revelers. Scully moves in to handcuff Kirby, but a large man falls in front of her cutting her off and knocking her off balance. Trainor snatches Kirby by the rm, pulling him through the chaotic horde. Scully quickly regains her balance and sees Kirby and Trainor escaping. "Mulder!" She yells as she turns to see Mulder being righted by two older women. "Go!" He yells. Scully takes off, pressing her way through the assemblage. Mulder stands up quickly, thanks the women, and takes off after Scully. Trainor yanks Kirby into a side street. "We gotta work fast. You work on killing the power. I'm gonna find Clark. It'll be tough for them to follow both of us." Kirby nods, looking extremely nervous. "Look," Trainor adds, getting Kirby's attention. "It's your destiny. You're gift from God. You have to use it or we're all doomed. The devil, remember!" He punctuates this by grabbing Kirby's shirt and shaking him. Kirby looks at Trainor and a calm determination floods his face. He nods and Trainor releases his shirt. Trainor looks back to see Scully approaching. "DO IT!" he yells as he heads off down Broadway. Kirby, too, sees Scully and heads down the crowded side street. Scully pulls a radio from her pocket and yells into it, "This is Agent Scully. We're at Broadway and," she looks up at the street sign, "43rd St. Pursuing Kirby down 43rd. Trainor is heading down Broadway towards 44th. Agent Mulder will pursue him while I go after Kirby." Mulder has joined her and nods as he starts down Broadway after Trainor. "This is Agent Cramden. I've spotted Trainor at 44th and am pursuing him. Requesting backup," crackles from Scully's radio as she heads after Kirby. "Mulder," she yells back. "Cramden's got Trainor. Let's go." They make their way down 43rd after Kirby, and see him0 round the corner. As Mulder and Scully round that corner, running in and out of groups of revelers, they see him a block away, rounding the next corner, heading back towards the Square. Kirby spots several New York City cops ahead and ducks into an alley between two buildings. "This is Scully, requesting backup on 42nd Street," Scully yells into her radio as they spot Kirby heading into an alley. "Hey!" Mulder yells to the cops as he reaches into his pocket for his badge. "FBI. Seal off this block and the net one. Now!" Kirby frantically tries two doors, with no luck. He looks back to see Mulder and Scully entering the alley, guns drawn. "Stop!" they yell simultaneously, but Kirby leaps behind the building. He spots another door, tries it, and finds it open. Mulder rounds the corner in time to see the door slamming shut. He flanks the door as Scully takes the opposite side. He listens for movement on the other side before opening it slowly. He checks inside, finding it dark. Scully follows him in and pulls out a flashlight. She shines it around revealing three walls and a stairway to their left. "Ladies first," Mulder mouths before they're both startled by footsteps below them. Mulder grabs the flashlight and heads down the stairs. They descend, stopping twice to listen to Kirby's descent. A set of swinging double doors is at the bottom of the stairs. They take positions on opposite sides and Mulder stretches to peek through the small window openings. He shakes his head to tell Scully he can't make out anything through the windows. Scully opens the door slightly and slowly moves through it, gun in front of her. She stands in the doorway and Mulder moves through next to her. They scan the room, trying to adjust to the darkness. They can discern stacks of boxes around the large room. Their attention is drawn from the boxes by a thud and movement to their right. Trainor pushes his way through the partying throngs, a determined looks on his face. He spots a camera crew moving through and filming the crowd and his eyes flash. "Hey," he calls to the man carrying a large pack and following the camera operator. "Do you guys know where Dick Clark is? I've always wanted to see if he really looks that young or if it's just TV magic." The young assistant smiles at the joke. "Go up that way," he points up the street, "and you'll see all the ABC trucks. Around 47th Street. Can't miss 'em." Trainor smiles widely. "Thanks." He heads off in the pointed direction. "And thank you, God. My sign!" Walter Skinner is frowning. He's heard nothing from Mulder and Scully for several minutes. How had Mulder found Kirby and Trainor in that crowd when he had all his people guarding Dick Clark here? He shakes his head and surveys the crowd below. They're on the 12th floor, guarding Dick Clark and the film crew waiting to go on the air in an hour. Cramden had last reported that Trainor was at 45th Street and heading towards their general location before he lost him in the crowd. He calls into the radio. "I want ten of you agents downstairs to fan out and form a perimeter around the building here. You know who we're looking for. Let's get this guy." He turns to two agents standing nearby. "Marks and Jameson, you're on the doors." He looks at his watch: 10:33. As he passes a stack of boxes, Mulder hears footsteps. He stops and Scully pulls up next to him. He motions that the footsteps are coming from the other side of a stack of boxes in front of them. She points to the left. He nods and heads right. They both round the boxes with guns drawn to find Kirby standing about 10 feet in front of them. "It's over Mr. Kirby. Turn around and lie face down," Scully instructs. Kirby doesn't move, just looks wild-eyed at the two agents. "Mr. Kirby, right now you really don't have any serious charges against you. We know that Trainor took you from the prison in Massachusetts. Don't add resisting arrest. That will only make it tougher on you and our wife." Kirby looks behind him at two metal doors. "Mr. Kirby, turn around and lie face down, now," Scully insists. "Scully," Mulder seeks her attention. He nods towards the doors at which Kirby is staring. She looks at him questioningly, but Mulder is intently staring at the doors, too. Her eyes focus on where Mulder has the flashlight beam shining: Central Electrical Closet. "Mr. Kirby," Mulder calls. Kirby doesn't move, continuing to stare at the door. His hands are balled into fists at his sides and he is sweating profusely. "Mr. Kirby!" He still doesn't move. "YALE!" This draws his attention away from the door. "Let's get out of here. We'll go find your wife and you can wish her a Happy New Year." Kirby just stares at Mulder. Scully looks at Mulder and takes a step towards Kirby. Kirby sees her movement. "NO! Stay back! I'll do it! I will!" "But, Yale, you said you didn't want to hurt anyone." "That was before he explained it to me. This happened for a reason. There's a reason this happened to me. I'm supposed to help save everyone. I KNEW there had to be a reason." He stops at looks around. Scully takes the radio from her pocket. "This is Scully. Where's that backup?" she asks into the radio in a low voice. "Yale, Trainor came from that mental hospital. He has some real problems with reality. You don't have that problem. Don't follow him. Follow what you think is right." Kirby looks up at Mulder and his expression softens some. "Backup on the way. We're just entering the building. Just hold suspect and we'll be there." Kirby's attention snaps towards Scully as he hears the radio report. Anger floods his face. "You just wanna lock me up!" he yells. "Well, I'm gonna fix everything. I'm gonna get my life back!" He turns around and leaps towards the electrical closet doors. "Y2K here we come!" "NO!" Mulder shouts. Kirby hits the doors and flings them wide open. At first, nothing seems to happen, but slowly the equipment begins to snap and pop as it fails. Mulder turns to Scully. "We gotta get out of here, now, Scully!" he yells. Before either of them can move, the entire closet erupts into a huge fireball and Kirby is propelled up and backwards. Mulder leaps towards Scully when he sees the explosion and they are both thrown back into the stack of boxes. Streaks of white, blue, and yellow fill the room as the electrical closet equipment explodes. "You're gonna have to keep your people out of the way," the producer informs Skinner. "We're on the air in less than an hour. You can't be walking around or you'll trip on some of the cords or get in the shot." Skinner gives the producer a cold stare then nods. He turns his attention back to the open window and the crowd below as screams erupt. He looks up the street and sees the lights on the Waterford Ball flicker briefly. The lights inside their building flash off and on twice. The producer looks at Skinner, a worried expression on his face. Dick Clark joins them. "Is Y2K making an early appearance?" "What's going on with the power?" Skinner calls into his radio. Static is his only answer before the Waterford Ball and all of One Times Square goes dark. The crowd becomes a chaotic mass of people as the power loss progresses down the street towards Skinner's location. "What is wrong with the power?" Skinner yells into his radio, just as his area is plunged into darkness. "All agents report. Repeat... all agents report now!" he yells into the radio, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Just then, he is knocked to the floor by a sudden force. He quickly realizes a man is on top of him and takes swift action: he rolls over and pulls out his gun in one smooth movement, pressing the man to the carpet. The man fights back, writhing and kicking. "I'm a federal agent," Skinner instructs the man. "Stop!" The man stops momentarily, but then continues flailing even stronger than before. Skinner's vision has adjusted somewhat to the dark and he sees that it's a large man as he tries to discern the man's face. Suddenly, one of the man's wild movements connects with Skinner's chin and Skinner is sent reeling backwards. The man, realizing he's free, stands and looks around him. "Dick Clark, you devil, you're all mine now!" He yells triumphantly as he shoves two agents away and searches for his target. Skinner regains his composure and bellows commands to the agents, "Stop him! That's Trainor!" Trainor spins around. "You know me?" he asks, incredulous. "I knew it! I knew I was meant to do this!" He turns back to his search and tosses both agents out of the way again. "STOP!" Skinner yells as he trains his gun at Trainor. Trainor yells, "No way! The devil will get his due from me!" He starts to move towards shadows he's spotted in the darkness. He pulls a handgun from under his jacket and fires towards the shadows. "STOP! Put the gun down!"" Skinner yells again, and when it's apparent Trainor isn't stopping, he fires. The shot hits Trainor in the arm. He stumbles slightly, but continues firing and moving towards the shadows, who are now quickly ducking for cover. Trainor is not a very good shot as the bullets seem to be bouncing off walls and equipment to the left of where the group was standing. Skinner fires again, this time, hitting him in the back. Trainor falls to the floor, motionless. Skinner moves in to check on Trainor, gun still trained on the large man. Trainor is breathing hard, his chest visibly rising and falling. "Did I get 'em?" he asks in a low, gravelly voice. "Did I get him?" Skinner takes the gun from Trainor's hand. Trainor grabs Skinner by the jacket lapels. "Tell me I got him!" "Mr. Trainor, you are under arrest. You have the right..." "To hell with your damn rights. Did I kill Dick Clark? Is the world saved for God?" "No, Mr. Trainor, Dick Clark is alive and well and getting ready for his broadcast." Trainor blinks several times, in shock. Then, he yells, "NOOOOOOO!" 11:51 PM "Nine minutes left until the new year, new century, new millennium. People the world over are celebrating with huge parties. Here in Times Square, the Y2K problem made an appearance earlier in the evening when power all over the Square went out. However, Con Ed has assured everyone that problem is fixed..." the voice of Dick Clark booms out from the portable TV in the police van. Mulder is sitting on the curb next to the van, looking at the bandages on his hands. His suit is torn in several places and he has bruises and abrasions on his face. Scully joins him, looking equally battered. Before she can say a word, Skinner calls them. "Agents." They both look up at the Assistant Director, who's standing about four feet away. "I'll want your report," he instructs. Mulder looks out at the crowd as Scully nods. "My office, 11:00 Monday morning," he adds. Mulder looks up and Scully half-smiles. "Thank you, sir," she replies. Skinner turns to walk away. "Sir," Mulder calls. Skinner turns around. "Happy New Year!" Skinner smiles and walks away. "Mulder, ready to get back to D.C.? We can probably catch a late flight." "Fly now? With Y2K looming?" Mulder asks incredulously. "Mulder, the FAA has stated it is perfectly safe to fly tonight and tomorrow." "Scully, we're in Times Square. It's New Year's Eve 2000! Let's make the best of it. How many times have you been here for New Year's Eve?" "Here? Never." "Let's par-tay Scully." She throws him a look that says, "Give me a break!" Mulder stands and extends his hand to Scully. She studies it for a couple seconds before taking it and standing. "C'mon, we're outta here," Mulder announces as he plunges into the crowd, dragging Scully in behind him. They shove through the crowd for about a block before Mulder veers them into an alley. Scully looks at him curiously. "Oh, that's right. You hate crowds. That's why you want to stay here so bad." "Scully, it's an experience to be enjoyed at least once in your life. So, let's enjoy it." Scully doesn't respond. She justs looks around them, studying their cohorts. "Scully?" She glances up at her partner. "Are you where you pictured you would be in 2000?" "Not by a mile!" she answers truthfully. "You?" Mulder thinks for a second. "I'm not sure if I ever really had an idea where I was heading. I was just marching along. So, actually, I'm pleasantly surprised about where I am now that 2000 is about here." They listen as the voice over the loudspeakers announces it's one minute til midnight. "You got the raw end of the deal here, Scully," he concludes. Scully looks up at him, a question in her eyes. But, she doesn't get to ask it as the crowd begins the countdown to midnight. "30...29...28...27...26..." She says something to Mulder, but he can't hear her. "What?" he yells. She repeats, but he still can't hear. He yells, again, "WHAT?!" and leans in close to her face, trying to hear her. She looks into his eyes, now on level with hers. "No, I didn't." "5...4...3...2...1... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The crowd screams their greetings as confetti rains down on them. Mulder and Scully look around them as the confetti falls. Couples around them are sharing that first millennial kiss. Mulder and Scully watch all of the action. "Aren't ya gonna kiss her?" an older man asks Mulder. "What?" Mulder asks. "Kiss her! Aren't ya gonna kiss her? If you don't I will! She deserves a good New' Year's kiss!" the man commands. Mulder is taken back by the man's remarks. He looks down at Scully. Scully looks horrified. "Sir," she responds. "Thank you but please mind your own business." The man shrugs and walks away. Scully looks up at Mulder, who's smiling widely. She shakes her head, trying to shake off her frustration. "You were right to tell him to mind his own business," Mulder commends. "But..." Scully's brow furrows. "He is right. You do deserve a New Year's kiss. That's the only way to have the entire Times Square experience." Surprise flashes across Scully's face as Mulder leans down, again, this time clearly aiming for her lips. Their lips meet. The initial shock gone, Scully closes her eyes and finds herself responding to the kiss. Their liplock lasts almost a full minute before Mulder pulls back and studies Scully's face for her reaction. Scully opens her eyes and a smile breaks across her face. Mulder returns the smile as they study each other for several seconds. "Well, we can certainly say we've had the full Times Square New Year's Eve experience now," Mulder finally comments. "Yes, we can," Scully acknowledges. "Happy New Year, Mulder." "Happy New Millennium, Scully." She takes Mulder's hand. "Let's go back to D.C." They head down the alley away from the Times Square crowds. "Maybe we can take the rental car to D.C." The End Notes: This one to a long time to produce. I've been working on this for six months! Just not enough time.... real life kept intruding on my cyberlife! Also, usually I write out the story idea on index cards, from start to finish, before I start writing and use them as a guide. However, about a third of the way in to this one, I abandoned the cards. The story took on a life of its own and headed off in a different direction than I'd originally planned. I hope you like it! Okay, so 2000 isn't the new millennium. Sue me! :) Happy 2000!!!! December 31, 1999