Scully thinks laterally

An idea flashed into Scully's mind. She looked up.

She had thought there was no way out of the coin laundry. But that wasn't quite true. There was no way out to the north, the south, the east or the west, other than the door that led to the street. Which wasn't much of a way out for a woman in her underwear, unless she didn't mind being seen in her underwear, which Scully very much did.

But there was a way up.

There was a trapdoor in the ceiling above her. If she stood on the washing machines, she could just about reach it.

Of course, while standing on the washing machines, reaching for the trapdoor, she'd be in full view of the door. Anyone coming in would spot her right away. And there was no way they'd miss the fact that she was in her underwear.

But that was a risk she was going to have to take.

Scully steeled herself to act. There wasn't much time to lose. She summoned up all her memories of FBI training. She was strong. She was brave. She was wise. She was tough. She was still an FBI agent, and there was nothing she couldn't do. Even if she happened to be an FBI agent in her underwear.

Her heart beating fast, watching the door in case somebody approached, she climbed up onto the washing machine. She stood on the tips of her toes, reaching for the latch of the trapdoor.

It was too far.

No. She could get if, if she just stretched a little further...

It was still too far.

No. If she jumped a little bit, she could grab it...

She couldn't.

If she jumped a little bit more...

She heard voices.

"You go in the laundry first," said one of the teenagers, standing by the door. If they turned their heads just a little bit to the right, they'd be able to see her through the window.

There was no point in getting back behind the washing machine. If she went back there, she was sure to be caught eventually. This was Scully's last chance. She had to get the trapdoor open right now, in the next thirty seconds.

"No, you go in first."

"No, you!"

The latch brushed against Scully's fingers. Maddeningly, it was still just a little bit out of reach.

"No, you do it!"

Just a little bit further...

"Fine," said the first teenager, opening the door of the laundry. "I don't even know why we're arguing about it."

He stepped inside, and blinked. Was he seeing things? Was that a hallucination?

For just a moment, he'd thought he saw a pair of smart black pumps disappearing into the ceiling.