I have a few minutes free while Scully and I are waiting on the results of our lab work. I could be re-reading Ripley's Believe It or Not but I get too emotional when the Monkey Girl marries the Lizard Boy. (I'd hate to break down in front of strangers. I remember those lessons at the Academy about maintaining the professional image of the Bureau.) I thought I'd maintain the professional veneer by writing you a quick status report. Assuming they'll let us send any mail. 

The case wasn't going well even before Scully pulled medical rank and insisted on a complete blood work-up for both of us. Personally, I think she's jumping the gun. It's been three days and neither of us have developed any symptoms. But, you know how she gets. 

Anyhow, I don't suppose you're interested in those gory details, so I'll stick to the professional angle. I know that's what is important here, isn't it? 

I told you before the case hasn't been going well. Since we arrived, there have been three more unexplained deaths. We still don't have a lead on a suspect but Scully insists it's deliberate contamination. She threw in a lot of jargon about airborne virus vectors and contamination patterns, so I quit listening. She's having quite a love-fest with the local CDC representative. The last time I saw the two of them, they were yelling at each other about contaminated waste disposal and breached storage facilities. I think it may be love.

Sorry for the gap, but maybe you didn't notice. They pulled both of us in for more blood samples. These people are ghouls--they must have taken a pint from each of us already. If I see one more needle, I'm going to start charging them. I understand a pint of Grade-A blood goes for $20 in the better blood banks these days.  

While I was out of the room, some kleptomaniac stole my pen. Probably one of the doctors--those guys are all crooks. I managed to borrow a pencil from one of the nurses before they locked us up. I promised to return it but she didn't seem to want it back. It's hell being a leper. 

They've got us in isolation now. Scully had another argument with the guy who locked us in here but no dice. It's hard to argue logically with a man in yellow feety pajamas. I'm not sure what the purpose of the full contamination gear was, but if that guy finds a pair of floppy ears he has a promising career in front of him moonlighting as the Easter Bunny. (Scully didn't see the humor in that, but I'm certain you're laughing.) She's sitting across from me, writing her own letter. Probably complaining to her Congressman if I know Scully. She was mumbling about petty tyrants a few minutes ago, which gives you some idea of how charming it is to be locked alone in a room with her. If they don't spring us before tonight, I'll sleep better knowing she's unarmed.  

They took our cell-phones, too, after Scully made six calls to the CDC unit in one hour, then threatened the hospital with the Surgeon General's office and some kind of hospital oversight committee that made everyone's face turn green. (Personally, I wanted to use the IRS. There isn't a doctor in the country whose finances can stand a close inspection.) I'll admit we've had cases where she's been more popular. 

To make a long story short...(People always say that when they've yakked your ear off for an hour already, don't they?) Where was I? Oh, yes. The point is we're locked in this room for god-knows how much longer and the case isn't getting any closer to being solved. That means, sir, that it may be some time before Agent Scully and I are able to return to the office. Don't give our desks away, we'll make it eventually. 

Wait for us -- 

Mulder 

P.S. If Kim has a chance, we could really use something to kill the time. I know Agent Scully would probably benefit from intensive Parcheesi lessons right about now.