Dana Scully is pushing a shopping cart up to a house on a very nice street with old, large brick houses built on a rise - it's gray out. She's hurrying, and a young man is following, he can't quite keep up with her, although he's the one that invited her to come along with him. She goes right up to the house purposefully, and on in, he follows. [She's just going to stay for a bit and then go home - she makes a phone call to let somebody know where she is?] I'm in a house with Candace Bergen (her house? our house?) - I'm sort of her assistant. She's expecting a famous doctor and we're just getting ready, refreshments and that, and I'm a bit flustered, nervous [as if I haven't done this long, or don't do it well...]. There's somebody at the door, and I open it. It's a guy in a suit (balding, glasses, tall, bit of a dork), and I say hello, Dr., [please come in? fading - we discover he's not the right one, perhaps after he comes in, it's awkward.] Another knock - I go again, and it's another guy in a suit, gray wavy hair, handsomeish, tall. I've forgotten his name - I say, "Yes?" - hoping he'll say, "Hello, I'm Dr. ____" so I can respond to that, but he doesn't, he says [something like], "Hello, is Miss Bergen in?" and I say a name that pops into my head - which isn't the right one, and there's confusion, but at least we get him in, and there we all are including this other guy who's a fifth wheel. I'm in a house with (Sue S.? someone who is a bit older, in charge, sort of mother, sort of leader) - there's a bunch of other girls here, we're a group. I have my own room, off the kitchen, where (she) is. [Something's going on that's faded, but I'm feeling small and vulnerable, the room is a bit more than daytime-dark, it's shadowy. There's hesitance about getting something done. Something specific about clothes tossed on a little chair in the corner next to the door.] Later, there's a trial going on. In the kitchen, (she) is questioning someone - the lights are on bright there. Around the counter/bar, there's me and a few others. We're the "jury", and I'm the only one paying much attention. I'm sitting with another girl, and we occasionally exchange some comments, but across a partition and up a level, there's maybe 4 others at a table, and they're just acting like teenagers (I guess we all are) and gabbing away. It gets to where I can't hear the "witness", and I say something like, "Stop talking - no one is hearing what she's saying," which of course is rude but much worse, we're supposed to be taking part in this trial. And it may mean I'm the one who has to make the decision because I'm the only one who heard the evidence.