SEASON 1

SEASON 2

SEASON 3

SEASON 4

SEASON 5

FIGHT THE FUTURE

SEASON 6

SEASON 7

SEASON 8

SEASON 9

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In the stairwell, Mulder and Scully stagger upwards. "Twenty-eight down, one to go," Mulder notes. In this light we can see that Scully's blazer is a) gigantic and b) deep emerald green. Oof. She totters a little on the stairs; can't say I blame her. Whoomp, the lights go out, plunging them into blackness. "Oh, great," Scully mutters. Always prepared, Mulder flicks on a flashlight. "Trick or treat," he says. I suspect the Halloween theme must have been a lot more prominent in the original draft. On the landing for the 29th floor, TSCRO, and Scully reaches for the door handle. "No!" Mulder says sharply, jerking her hand away. "Don't wanna make the same mistake [Dead Exec] made," he explains, unshouldering a backpack. He pulls on a thick glove and pokes at the door lock with a screwdriver, triggering an explosion of sparks that makes them both jump back and yelp a little. Then they both stand there panting for a moment, and my mind…wanders. Um. Okay, I'm back. Mulder rattles the doorknob, to no avail. Then he looks up, and notices the security camera. "What are you looking at?" he snarks at it, and jams his other glove over the lens. The camera shifts and swivels audibly, trying to locate them again. Okay, that's funny too, after the 75 or so extraneous shots of this or that stupid camera that we've been subjected to. Mulder continues looking around, finally spotting the grille of an air vent in the ceiling. He gives Scully a look. Dang, Scully, I feel for you here. I'm short, too, so I know the drill: you're in the front row of the class picture, you have to sit in the middle of the back seat, and if there's a duct or an airshaft or some other creepy tiny tunnel that needs crawling through, well…it's always your turn. Cut immediately to Scully, grunting with effort as Mulder makes a stirrup with his hands for Scully's little white-sock-clad foot (why has she taken off her shoes?) and boosts her up into the vent. "There should be a way for you to drop down and open the door," he grits, chucking her on up into the ceiling. Scully belly-crawls noisily through the duct, brandishing the flashlight and trying to decide which way to go. This looks like a serious pain in the ass; poor Gillian. Crawling, crawling. Mulder paces on the landing. "C'mon, Scully," he mutters. Scully crawls. A sudden brisk breeze through the duct ruffles her hair. Uh oh.

On the landing, the door beeps and its little light blinks green. "Scully?" Mulder calls. The door opens to reveal a seemingly puzzled Peterson, the facilities manager. "What are you doing here?" he asks. Meanwhile, back in the vent, Scully crawls into a serious headwind, coughing as dust and debris blow past her. Ultimately she loses her grip and is blown away back down the shaft, hollering. The stuntwoman does a nice job of tumbling and rolling and bashing into the walls, before finally catching hold of an opening that branches off into a different duct. She only hangs on a moment, though, before getting sucked free and crashing along once more…directly at the blades of a giant fan! Oh no! There's another opening in the duct; Scully grabs on with both hands and hangs on desperately, still yelling for help. Then, amazingly enough, she frees one arm—she's held onto the flashlight the whole time somehow—to shine the light on the enormous whirling Fan of Imminent Death, just to make sure. Scully kicks and struggles, but can't quite pull herself up into the other shaft. I think of this scene every single time I'm on the Gravitron (assisted pull-up machine) at the gym. If my life depended on me hanging on by sheer upper-body strength? I…would be coleslaw, frankly. Go, Scully! She loses the flashlight, which is pulverized into bits in the fan. It's clearly Gillian again, here, paper and crap blowing into her face as she glares at the camera, bless her.

Peterson leads Mulder into the COS command-center/chamber of doom. "The machine's been acting all crazy…power surges, shutoffs," he complains. "That's why I'm here so late." Mulder doesn't have time to waste: "Where's the B port?" he asks. Peterson leads him to it, fussing a little: does Mulder really know what he's doing? Peterson doesn't want to get fired. Or electrocuted, I imagine. Mulder plugs a…blinky thing into some port or other on the mainframe. Access…Denied! "Damn," he mutters.

In the vent, Scully hangs on like death with her left hand, and draws her gun with the right. Oh, Scully…that is a terrible idea. Thank God that, as this helps to establish, you're such a phenomenally good shot. She plugs away at the fan, or at its electrical coupling. Sparks fly. The blades whirl. Bang…bang…

COS command center. Mulder plugs the blinky thing into…the same port? A different one? Whatever. "SYSTEM ACCESS GRANTED," says Evil Computer Voice abruptly, although the monitor reads "BEGIN ALGORITHM CODE PROGRAM." Mulder claps his hands with glee and runs back to the main keyboard area. "Now I can put in the virus!" he declares boldly, and stupidly. "Not bad, Agent Mulder," Peterson says admiringly…pulling a gun on Mulder. Dun! "You know, I've been trying to access the CPU for the past two years. Now please, take out your gun, and remove the clip," Peterson instructs, as Duchovny makes all kinds of "Curses! Foiled again!" faces and poutily offers up his weapon. "Defense Department?" he asks sourly. "Let's just say our paychecks are signed by the same person," Peterson suggests. "Now give me the diskette and step away from the console." Mulder could not be any more petulant as he grudgingly slaps the disk into Pete rson's hand.

At which point Scully sidesteps into the room in a cowboy firing stance, her own weapon leveled at Peterson. "Put. Down. The. Gun," she twangs, in a Voice of Death that makes me start cracking up helplessly. God, I love this scene. Peterson tries to equivocate. "SHUT UP AND DROP THE GUN," Scully barks. She is a hot mess, bloodied and bruised, with her hair a wild windblown rat's nest. It is probably not supposed to be funny, but it kills me. Scully has absolutely, completely HAD IT, and somehow her disheveled fury emphasizes her total baby face. I love that as she's bossing Peterson around, Mulder, in the background, gets out of his chair and carefully backs away a little. Good call, Mulder! Peterson appeals to Scully's professional ethics. "You're making a mistake, Agent Scully. Compromising your sworn duty. This operation is more sensitive than you can possibly imagine," he tries. "Don't listen to him!" Mulder says, inching around the other side of the room. Scully looks between them, grubby and still mad as hell, as Peterson drones on about the scientific value of the technology and Mulder hollers that the machine's a murderous monster that no one can control. "Make no mistake: YOU will be held accountable," Peterson school-Principals. Scully wavers…but only for a moment. "Mulder, put in the disk," she murmurs, and I could not love her any more. Mulder snatches the disk back and slaps it into the drive.