Light from the full moon shone through the window of a small suburban home, as a man tossed and turned in his bed. Twisting the cotton sheets into a ball, he threw them to the floor in frustration and moved to the window. The moonlight illuminated his hands as he closed the curtains and observed in disgust their covering of thick, coarse hair. Grunting, he headed to the small bathroom with pink linoleum, leaving the door slightly ajar. Fumbling in the darkness, he found the light switch and then began what he had to do. After a long series of guttural groans and banal utterances, he looked down into the sink, his double-edged razor falling onto a substantial mound of hair...He then glanced up into the mirror, afraid to acknowledge what he might find. Assistant Director Skinner's Office Tuesday 8:57a.m.

"All three victims were found near massive piles of what appears to be human hair, although we have as yet been unable to determine the exact origin." Skinner briefed his favorite agents as he dropped the case file on the desk between them. "You begin immediately...questions?"
Scully turned to Mulder only to find him flipping through the file, enchanted and excited at the same time. *Like a boy on Christmas morning, she thought to herself. But Mulder's family never celebrated Christmas...what a sad childhood! She couldn't imagine spending Christmas like any other day, without the tree, presents or food, and without the company of a large warm family. How lonely it must have been...*
Realizing that she was staring at his tanned face and squared jawline, she began to blush under Skinner's knowing gaze.
Quickly directing her attention back to the case, she inquired "Sir? With all due respect....the hair...human? I mean, what exactly are you suggesting?"
Mulder stopped rifling through the papers and froze, staring up at Skinner with sudden understanding. "All the victims died during a FULL MOON?!?" Responding silently with a wise look, Skinner clenched his jaw slightly and nodded.
"Mulder! What does that have to do with anything?" Always the skeptic, she shot him her patented one-raised-eyebrow look. He remained quiet, waging the war with his deep hazel eyes. "You're not saying that..."
"Exactly!"
"Mulder," she countered, trying her hardest not to allow the amused grin to surface on her face, "werewolves do not exist."

Garfield Residence DeSoto Pennsylvania Wednesday 3:24p.m.
"Mulder, have you considered the idea that this man may have simply had a lot of hair? There are cases, although extremely rare, of modern hypertrichosis...it's an X-linked dominant trait that is believed to have arisen from a genetic reactivation mutation. The body makes an excess of body hair as it supposedly did when our ancestors were apelike...cases have been reported for hundreds of years, Mulder. 'Wolf men' were ostracized and often put to death. Those that were able to escape or hide passed on the trait to modern circus performers, 'wolf boys,' living 'werewolves...'"
Following him up the sidewalk, Scully noted that behind his inquisitive stare he seemed to be ignoring her theory. *Falling on deaf ears again. He is so stubborn!* Shaking her head a little, she averted her eyes to the door before them and knocked.
"Agents Mulder and Scully, FBI. We'd like to speak with Mrs. Garfield, please." Mulder flashed his badge in his left palm as his right nudged Scully slightly in the small of the back, a small protective gesture he used subconsciously to let her know that he was there, in control. That he was ready to fall into their normal pattern of investigation, with her initiating and him completing; both of their halves combining to make a whole, a finished product.
The small blond woman in the doorway cleared her throat and answered, "I'm sorry, but she went back to Arizona yesterday. I'm Faith Garfield, Louis and Nola's daughter. My parents have been separated for six years...I was taking care of my father before..." Her eyes teared as she bit her bottom lip and stared at Scully with round, brimming blue eyes. "I'm sorry. Please come in."
Following Faith into a quaint living room, they were seated on a chintz sofa in front of a small fireplace.
Knowing that Mulder liked to observe and profile, Scully immediately took the reins and began the questioning. "You said you were taking care of your father. Was he ill?"
"He never fully recovered after the transplant. He was weak and..."
"Transplant?" Prodded Scully. There had been no mention of a transplant in the file or in Mr. Garfield's autopsy report.
Looking somewhat surprised at their ignorance, Faith clarified, "A heart transplant, last year in May..."
Mulder leaned forward, his curiosity peaked. "Do you recall the name of his transplant doctor?"
"Dr. Neil Flynn, at University Circle Hospital."

University Circle Hospital 6:48p.m.
"We're lucky he's on night call this week," Scully said as Mulder pressed the 'up' elevator button. "Otherwise, we'd have to do something relaxing tonight - like sleep - and get started in the morning."
He responded to her sarcastic remark with a quirky grin and teased, "Oh, come on Scully. You know it thrills you to be out all night with a man...probably hasn't happened since Prom Night, huh?"
*Ouch. That one hurt, Mulder.* Deciding not to allow him to lure her into a game of Skeletons in the Closet, she simply raised one eyebrow and gave him her iciest glare. *God, make these elevator doors open...please!* As if on cue, they reached the desired floor and then began to search for office 821.

"Dr. Flynn?" Knocking softly on the open door, Scully watched as a middle-aged man spun around in the chair behind a cluttered desk that was spilling paperwork all over the floor. He was wearing a rumpled white lab coat and had a pair of protective goggles around his neck, as well as an additional forgotten pair pushed up onto his forehead. *Ah, the glamour of academia! How nostalgic.*
Standing behind her in his favorite position, Mulder flashed his badge and began, "FBI. We have some questions regarding a former patient."
"I'm sorry, but patient records are strictly confidential. I cannot give out any information without patient consent." Ignoring the attractive agents lurking in his doorway, he began to shuffle through an exceptionally large pile of paper next to his computer.
Giving Mulder an annoyed look, Scully pushed through the door and cleared herself a spot on the couch as Mulder stood transfixed by the computer screen. Sitting on a heap of American Transplant Journals, she looked down at the physician and interrupted, "Dr. Flynn, I am a medical doctor and I'd like to ask you a few questions about a Mr. Louis Garfield. Reportedly, you performed his heart transplant a year ago..."
"Agent...Scully" he noted, after looking at her ID badge. "I perform an average of three transplants a week." Smiling egotistically, he paused for effect. "After a while, the details simply run together. A heart is a heart, and I have seen and held over a thousand in my career."
Suddenly coming out of his daze, Mulder jumped in and stated, "Mr. Garfield died three days ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Feigning a disappointed frown, the doctor added, "By the time many patients receive a transplant, their bodies are far too destroyed to function properly." Scully raised her blue eyes to Mulder's hazel ones, communicating in their unspoken way that this avenue of questioning was leading nowhere. With a little sigh and shoulders slightly slumped in defeat Mulder held out his arm to guide Scully toward the door.

As Mulder led her though the hospital lobby with his hand on her back, Scully flipped through the case file for what seemed like the hundredth time. "Nothing here seems to connect the hair with his death, Mulder. Now that we know he had a transplant, we can probably pin down the cause of death as heart attack. The coroner may have missed the obvious signs such as..."
"But Scully, the hair has been found at all the crime scenes. And what about your previous theory?"
"Hypertrichosis? Well, Mulder, the condition would hardly have killed him. And besides, I ruled it out after meeting with Mr. Louis' daughter. You see, it is an X-linked dominant trait, so she would have been affected. Unless she was adopted or has one hell of a morning shaving regimen, it looks like hypertrichosis isn't an issue."
"But how do you explain the..."
"Hair? I have yet to explain that, Mulder, but I'm sure there is a plausible scientific...HEY!" She scolded, as an attractive young man in a white lab coat whirled around the corner and bumped into her right shoulder, nearly sending her flying backward.
"I'm so sorry...I wasn't looking and I was in a hurry...Agent Scully?!" Offering his hand, he shook hers enthusiastically. "Ralph Darcy. The Academy? I took your Forensic Pathology class."
"Oh yes! I remember." Recognition flooded Scully's face along with a slight smile as she looked him up and down and remarked, "You have certainly grown up. You look great!"
"So do you," he replied with a broad grin.
"So how did your project on Gypsy Maggots and Their Timely Invasion of Human Cadavers ever turn out?"
Mulder's eyes widened and he crinkled up his nose in disgust as she answered. "It got canceled. The facility was too backed up with pending projects, so they felt no need to spend more money on..." Noticing Mulder's queasy appearance, she continued, "I went through re-assignment."
"I'm sorry."
"No, it all worked out," she smiled her enigmatic Dr. Scully smile. "This is my new partner, Agent Mulder. Mulder, this is Dr. Darcy." They shook hands coldly and professionally, Mulder slipping his arm from her back to her waist in another protective gesture. *Why does he touch me like that in public? Doesn't he know what it does to me? Her scientific side piped up: Alpha male syndrome...he's only defending his territory and displaying his power...Oh, Mulder, don't you know that I would never leave you?*
"So," Scully asked, "what are you doing now?"
"Research. What else is there?" As they laughed, Mulder rolled his eyes and began to search the hall for a quick exit. "In fact, maybe you'd like to hear about it some time." Fishing in his coat pocket, he produced a business card and handed it to Scully. "Give me a call and we can get together to talk about my project in detail."
Quickly producing her own card (*when did she have those made? Mulder wondered...*), she gave it to Darcy and smiled. "Likewise."
*Likewise? What kind of project could make Scully smile so much? And why did Darcy's hand linger on hers like that?* Pulling on her wrist like a small child, Mulder said, "Hate to bust up the reunion, kids, but we've got work to do." Giving Darcy a superior stare, he tugged on Scully's arm, leading her away.
Turning over her shoulder as she left, Scully shot an apologetic look and offered, "It was nice to see you!"
"Likewise."

Artesian Motel 9:34p.m.
Getting out of their car in the parking lot, Scully argued "All I'm saying is that you could have been a little more cordial."
Laughing and snorting a little, he replied, "Are you kidding? 'Research. What else is there?' Come on, Scully, admit it. He's a dork."
Walking her to her door like he always did, he waited for the usual sarcastic remark, sigh, and 'goodnight.'
"Mulder, just because he wears that lab coat and likes to participate in cutting edge research, doesn't mean he's a..." A dark blue car came lurching though the parking lot, careening dangerously close. Screeching to a halt, a spotlight began to scan the area.
"Scully, get your key!"
Clutching her purse in a panic, she fumbled with the closure.
Finally getting it open, she thrust her hand inside and struggled to find the key...as her fingers wrapped around it's unfamiliar shape, the light hit them. Mulder looked at her urgently, scrutinized her wide eyes for a split second, and then grabbed her squarely by the shoulders and kissed her in order to hide their identities. The light lingered for what seemed like an eternity, so the kiss went on. Surprised at first, Scully quickly found that she liked Mulder's kisses and the way they made her melt in his arms. She found herself softening and relaxing under his grip and she began to kiss him back. Letting the key slip from between her fingers, she moved her hands up behind his neck, exploring his muscled neck and his thick brown hair...

And the light moved on. *Damn.* Standing back, she continued the facade of searching for the key and held it up a moment later, unable to look him in the eye, afraid that the kiss had meant nothing to him.
Unlocking the door swiftly, he began to motion her inside as the light swung back to view them. Incapable of movement, she stood there stunned as he swept her into his arms and carried her inside, tossing her onto the flowery bedspread. Standing at the foot of the bed, he threw his jacket to the floor and loosened his tie before he kicked the door shut with his foot. Then he smiled seductively and turned off the lamp, plopping down into the nearest chair. *How long have I wanted to do that? To just grab her and kiss her as hard as I could? God, it felt good. But she had been completely stunned, in shock. No kidding, Mulder...you've worked with her for six years and she's never taken any advances. What makes you think she would want you?*
Peeking out between the miniblinds, he said, "That was close." If he had turned around to look at her, he would have found Scully staring at him in disbelief, her mouth open slightly and her eyebrows raised.
Instead, he was plugging in her laptop. "I think I can get into the good doctor's filing system. His computer was linked to a major network..."
Hearing only silence, he turned to her. She had rolled onto her side on the king-sized bed with her back facing him. "Scully?" No answer. *What's wrong with her? Was she mad that I kissed her? I had to...surely she knows that.*
Shrugging slightly, he began to work as she fumed. After a while, he leaned forward and intently studied the screen, highlighting the names of Louis Garfield, Laura Brooks, and Joseph Hawkins. Sitting back and smiling grimly, he closed the computer and peeked through the blinds again. Looking at the clock (10:08), he said softly, "Scully, I may have to crash here tonight. It looks like our friend isn't leaving." Thinking that she was asleep, he stood up and stretched his long legs.
She turned over and stared at the ceiling, saying "You can sleep in the tub."
Mulder laughed and sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes and dropping them to the floor. "Come on. Where's your slumber party spirit? Let's order a pizza and a movie. Then we can stay up all night and tell ghost stories."
Shifting her eyes to him, she glared coldly and he saw what he thought were tiny tear tracks on her face. "You can even have my blanket."
Getting to her knees, she balled it up and hurled it toward his face.
Then she rolled over again and pretended to sleep.
*Oh God, what did I do?* "Scully, what?"
*Dumbfounded. As Usual.*

En Route to La Bonnehuer Hospital Thursday 2:04p.m.
"Why didn't you tell me Mulder?"
"You were 'sleeping,' remember?" He chided, producing a hurt facial expression and pretending to stab himself in the chest with an imaginary dagger. "Without me."
*Damn it, Mulder, don't mess with my emotions right now. I can't take it anymore.* "Mulder, you made an important breakthrough in the case. If you had told me that all three victims were heart transplant recipients - and most significantly, that the donor organs all came from the same hospital - I would have done research throughout the night. We could be looking at a hospital that lacks sterile procedure or black-markets older, damaged organs. There are so many possibilities. If I had been informed, I would have been more prepared for today."
"Don't worry. All you have to do is shake your red hair and smile at the surgeons...then they will tell us everything we need to know." He smiled broadly at her, loving the way that his apparent indifference released her fury. Piercing him with her eyes, she exhaled slowly and then turned to look out the window at the passing landscape, a thick, syrupy tension hanging in the air.
"You know, Scully, they say that an organ is capable of carrying the characteristics of its original owner. Especially the heart. Folklore throughout the ages has associated it with..."
"Who are 'they,' Mulder? And where did 'they' get their medical degree?" Beginning to fall into the rhythms of their intellectual quarreling, she realized that it was similar to the stimulating argument which they had both engaged in within the tiny basement office during her first day on the X-Files. Numerous disputes had ensued over the years, but no one ever claimed victory; neither wanted the other to lose. Mulder was rambling on while she watched intently, only partially listening, mentally preparing for her next onslaught of sarcastic or skeptical words.
Just then, her cell phone jumped to life starling them both out of their ritualistic distraction. Sliding it out of her coat pocket, she punched its button and answered "Scully," before the second ring, half expecting to hear Mulder on the other end. *When was the last time I talked to anyone but Mulder on this phone? Can't remember...* At the sound of the voice, her eyes widened and Mulder leaned toward her with a questioning look.
"Yes. Well, I was just a little surprised that you'd be calling so soon. Yes, I'm still interested in hearing about your project. Tonight? Ummm..." Glancing at Mulder, she saw that he was resolutely staring at the road. *He's listening, that much is obvious...but is he jealous? God, Mulder, it's just a business date.* "Okay. What time are you done at the lab? How's seven? I'll see you then."
As she turned off her phone, Mulder secured a parking place near the front entrance of the hospital and pushed hard on the brakes, causing the tires to squeal while sending Scully lurching forward.
Slamming his door behind him, he tossed "you coming?" over his shoulder and proceeded to make his way up the sidewalk. Practically jogging to keep up with his fast pace, Scully smiled behind his back. *Very jealous.*
Mulder had already found an elevator by the time she caught up. "Did I say floor four or five?" He looked at her with forced apathy. "Five."
Stepping into the elevator that resembled so many others they had ridden in, they each subconsciously held their breath, the silence comforting, yet tense; challenging someone to break it.
"Mulder. It's just a business dinner..." She averted her eyes to the floor and, out of habit, stuck the tip of her tongue in the left corner of her mouth.
"What dinner?" *Scully, I'm not about to let you think I'm envious.* Trying his hardest to act completely normal, Mulder furnished a puzzled face and raised his eyebrows. His performance was admirable, even though he had hung on every word that Scully had uttered during the two minute and forty-one second phone call. *Okay, so I timed it...sue me.*
Sighing heavily, Scully exited on the fifth floor and quickly found the nameplate belonging to the surgeon Mulder had mentioned during the car ride. Stopping before Dr. Sampson's door, she tilted her head toward it and then let Mulder take the lead.
"Dr. Sampson? I'm Agent Mulder and this is my partner, Agent Scully. We'd like to ask you a few questions." They flashed their badges simultaneously, without even giving thought to the way in which they had synchronized their movements over time. A petite, dark-haired woman stared up at them through wire-rimmed reading glasses and then smiled broadly.
"Ah! After our e-mail conversation this morning, I was expecting to see you...and here you are." Placing her eye wear on top of an open file, she stood up and shook hands with the agents and then offered them a seat.
"In your message, you mentioned some donor organs that were transplanted at a local hospital... is that correct, Agent Mulder?"
"Yes. We have reason to believe that these organs may have been linked to the death of three recipients."
"I assure you, Agent Mulder, that the organs we offer for transplantation all meet the quality standards of UNOS and are distributed according to their guidelines. We are nothing more than a 'middle man.'" Putting up her guard, the doctor seemed genuinely outraged at the insinuation of malpractice.

"Is it possible that the organs may have been switched with other hearts?"
His brown eyes beginning to flame with anger, Mulder knew that he had not exactly worded the last question euphemistically. Biting his full bottom lip and looking to Scully apprehensively, he found her engrossed in a medical journal.
"Mulder, I think I may have found that scientific explanation. This article links the use of Cyclosporine, a post-transplant anti-rejection medication, to the growth of excess hair." Turning toward the confused doctor, Scully raised her eyebrows in a questioning look.
"Copy room is the third door down on the left. Make yourselves at home." Nodding in appreciation, Scully grabbed Mulder's wrist and led him out of the office.
Ducking into the copy room and switching on the lights, she scolded "Mulder, the medical community does not appreciate law enforcement agents who come into their establishments and accuse them of..."
"Sorry, Scully...but I have a feeling that something went very wrong with those organs." He gave her his most intense stare, telling her that he was serious without verbalizing a thing. "What if the hearts weren't human? If wolf hearts were substituted, could it not be logically deduced that the tissue carrying the animal genetic code could then transmit signals characteristic of the original host?"
The eyebrow quirked into its high arch faster than Mulder believed possible. "Mulder! You're crazy! That's physiologically impossible. Xenotransplants are still in the experimental stages...but they cannot do what you are suggesting! The entire body will not undergo such drastic physical change because of the introduction of foreign tissue, from another species or their own. The extreme is rejection, and although it can cause a total system breakdown, it cannot create a new being or cause a mutation of the recipient's existing genotype. Really, Mulder!"
"And what do you propose, Dr. Scully?" His sarcastic tone cut at her already frayed nerves. *One of these days I'm just going to snap on you, Mulder.*
"After transplantation, an extensive drug regime is begun immediately to force the body's immune system to weaken, thereby warding off rejection. It can take several years for specialists to balance these drugs within a person, since each case is unique. Mulder, according to this report, several of these drugs are types of steroids, like Cyclosporine. They are known to cause excessive hair growth, aggressive behavior, and even insomnia...which may explain your 'werewolves.' When combined with other drugs, whose doses are constantly being altered, heart attack or kidney failure seem a highly likely cause of death." *So what do you think of THAT hypothesis?* Her competitive edge eager for attack, she stood poised on her haunches, ready for his comeback.
He just exhaled slowly and observed her. "C'mon Scully, let's get out of here. It's almost five and you've got a date at seven."
Surprise flooding her face, she attempted to hide it but was unsuccessful. Mulder cleared his throat and nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other before adding, "Or was it seven-thirty?"

Artesian Motel 6:42p.m.
Leaning against the headboard of Scully's bed, Mulder was enjoying a snack. He had already shed his suit jacket and dress shirt, and was clothed only in his pants and tee-shirt, making himself comfortable as he typed furiously on her laptop. She had been flying around the room looking for her sea-scented perfume, those extra pantyhose, and that small black satin purse that she always brought along in her suitcase just in case the need arose...
Tilting her head toward the computer she asked, "So you are going to work in here all night?"
"Yes...Work. 'What else is there?'" He sighed like a dejected man and put on his saddest puppy-dog face. Actually, he would be spending the evening doing an extensive background check on one Dr. Ralph Darcy. *She'll never have to know.* Leaning in closer to look at the screen, Scully saw that he was logged into a chat room. She giggled quietly under her breath and nudged him in the ribs.
"As long as you promise not to watch any videos in here...this is still MY bed." He feigned a disappointed look and groaned.
"Yes, mom..." Then he turned back to the laptop and smiled as she headed into the bathroom to change, adding just loud enough for her to hear, "Are you planning on making use of this bed later?" Lifting her brows in retaliation, Scully bit her tongue and continued into the bathroom, pretending not to hear that last remark.
While taking a drink of his Lipton's peach-flavored iced tea, Mulder's grip slipped slightly on the condensation that coated the bottle. It tumbled into his lap, spilling all over his pants and even on Scully's bedspread. *She's gonna love that.* He jumped up and brushed himself off, but it was too late - he was soaked. Hesitating for a minute, he decided that he didn't even want to chance her happening upon him in his current predicament. It would only give her more ammunition to use in future battles. Quickly removing his pants, he tossed them over the wet spot on the bed and then sprawled out on his stomach, letting his feet dangle off the edge.

*Make use of the bed? Why won't he go make use of his own bed and stop lying in mine, half clothed, throwing little teasing sexual innuendoes in my face? He's been teasing me all weekend, with that damn kiss, and then the Prom Night comment about being out all night with a man. I'll show him what I do when I go out with a man, a man who takes me to nice restaurants instead of fast-food joints...* Dana Katherine Scully threw her black lace bra out the bathroom door and onto the bedroom floor.
Then the devastatingly beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous agent sauntered out to face Mulder. He let out a long, involuntary whistle as his eyes devoured her tiny frame, clothed in a shimmery black dress that clung to her curves, complete with matching purse. Her fiery auburn hair was piled on top of her head and tiny ringlets of natural curls fell like whispers down her neck. Mulder realized that he'd never seen her hair fixed up before, unless you counted ponytails, and those were usually reserved for autopsies.
"Do you always bring this ensemble into the field with you?" "You never know when a special occasion will arise..." She allowed her eyes to roam freely over his well-muscled shoulders and biceps that were only accented by the thin white tee-shirt he was wearing. Her eyes wandered further down and she almost laughed out loud when they processed his unpredictable glow-in-the-dark alien face boxers. *What the hell was he thinking?* She wondered if he had bought them to annoy her, as he had with his flashy neckties. If so, how long had they lain unused in his drawer before he worked up the nerve to model them?
"Scully?"
"Huh?" Her guilty eyes flew up to his face as she was jolted from her daydream.
"Did you need something, Scully?"
"Oh...yeah. Could you zip up my dress?"
Turning around, she revealed a flawless ivory back with the gaping dress hanging off each side. Sliding his right index finger along her spine, Mulder heard her inhale sharply and felt her tense against him. Smiling, he found the zipper and began to pull it slowly up her delicate back, his fingers brushing her electric skin all the time. *Scully! No bra? Hmmmm...*
"Scully, this is more than a business dinner, isn't it? It's a date." Suddenly serious, he propped himself up on his elbows and stopped typing, scrutinizing her reaction instead.
The reaction was one of complete amazement. She stood at the foot of the bed in stockinged feet and a sleek black suit dress, one of her chunky pumps dangling from the fingers of her right hand; her face ashen and her ruby lips slightly parted to form a small 'O' as her jaw dropped.
"It's a business dinner, nothing more."
Chuckling softly to himself, Mulder popped a sunflower seed into his mouth and chided, "So, Agent Scully, do you go through this much trouble every time I bring files and a pizza over to your house?" It seemed that she had ignored his last comment, but as she turned away to head to the bathroom, Mulder saw the crimson fingers of a blush crawling up her Irish neck to settle in porcelain cheeks. *Really? For me?*
*All for you.*

Cousin Robert's Bistro 7:38 p.m.
"I'd like another gin and tonic. And for you?" Darcy motioned to Scully across their small table in the back of the restaurant.
Shaking her head, she held up her palm and answered, "I'm fine." Her fingers absently traveled along the rim of her glass, tracing small invisible circles before they wrapped around the stem and brought the sweet Chardonnay to her lips.

"So...what's the big secret?"
"What do you mean? Besides the fact that you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met and that I've had a crush on you since I was your student at the academy?" He leaned forward, the last words in his sentence dropping like silent music from his tongue.
A deep scarlet blush rose up in her cheeks as Scully laughed apprehensively and stared at the swirling red nectar in her glass. *Why does it remind me of blood?* Raising her eyes cautiously, she found him staring intently at her. "I meant...what is your study about? It must be big if you feel confident in presenting it to an ex-tutor..."
"I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable." He smiled at her broadly. "I just had to get that out of the way before I got too nervous...I'm doing a study on Cardiac Xenotransplantation."

Artesian Motel 7:40 p.m.
Mulder felt guilty for investigating Scully's date. But after finding that Ralph Darcy was the registered owner of a navy blue 1989 Cutlass, he felt justified in his efforts. When his photographic memory mentally conjured up the image of the dark car from the previous night, he almost fell off the bed as he bolted up to grab his shoes.
"Yeah, I need you to run a number for me...Pittsburg area code." His cell phone was cradled in its usual position between his strong shoulder and listening ear. "Okay. 555-0928. Yeah, I need a street address...all I have is a post office box."
Scrawling the information onto the back of a napkin with the first available writing utensil - Scully's lipliner - he shoved it into his pocket and said a rushed "thanks."
Ending the conversation, he holstered his Sig Sauer and grabbed his badge and flashlight before dashing out the door. 852 Pratt Place 7:57 p.m.

Picking the lock on Darcy's apartment had been easy, and now Mulder braced himself to enter. Hoping that there would be no surprise pets or roommates, he drew his weapon and silently swung the door open with his toe.
His shoulders and back tensed with every step he took into this dark unknown. Weaving his way through what appeared to be a normal living room, kitchen, and bathroom, Mulder stubbed his toe on the footed bathtub and cursed before heading toward the bedroom.
As he turned on his flashlight, wolves stared at him from every direction. Pictures of wolves. The walls, ceiling, and even closet doors were covered with posters, pictures, and paintings of wolves. In the center of the room, an autopsy table stood in place of a bed. Various scalpels, saws and sutures were laid out, but Mulder could only guess at their respective uses. *Scully would know.*
Mustering enough courage to open the closet, Mulder found a refrigeration unit. Inside, were several jars with hearts suspended in clear fluid. Mulder's own heart was beating rapidly and he knew that Scully was in danger...

Cousin Robert's Bistro 8:02 p.m.
"I've been looking for an intelligent contemporary to aid with the research. When I saw you yesterday I knew that our paths had crossed for a reason." Darcy stopped momentarily to take another sip of his drink, his emerald eyes searching Scully's with anticipation.
"Xenotransplantation? So you are transplanting hearts from mice to rats?" No answer. "From rats to pigs?" Still no answer. He just raised his eyebrows and sighed while she continued with excitement. "From pigs to primates? That is an innovative procedure which has yet to be perfected! It's rarely successful...how are you doing it?"
Darcy leaned closer, taking both of Scully's hands into his and confessed "Primate to primate." He watched in amusement as her eyes widened in shock, then squinted in disbelief and finally enlarged with recognition and horror. Her jaw was slack and she looked as if she may faint.
*Oh God! It's him! I've got to get out of here...*
Forcibly regaining her composure, Scully sat up straight and cleared her throat. "I'm extremely busy with my current assignment, as well as devoted to my partner...I cannot simply request reassignment from OPC. Besides, it seems as if you are doing quite well by yourself...another scientific mind could get in your way..."
"OPC?!" He laughed heartily at her innocence and added, "Do you think they 'assigned' me to my current position? I turned in my letter of resignation to the Bureau when I learned that you had been assigned to the X-Files. For the past six years, I have tried to come to terms with the fact that we would never be together, but kept apart like star-crossed lovers."
Glancing around furtively, Scully searched the restaurant for an easy exit. She felt a wave of panic rise up in her as she noticed that the entire place was empty and lit only by candles. Startled, she began to make excuses for leaving.
"You know, Mulder is probably wondering where I am...and I told him I'd go over a case file with him tonight...and..."
Disregarding her pleas, Darcy clenched his fists even tighter around her small hands and continued, "Now you have stumbled back into my life and with a little favor from my cousin Robert, fate can finally take her course."
Tears mounting in her throat, she exhaled very slowly and concentrated on breathing. *Why am I so sleepy?* Looking down at the table, her thick wine swirled in the glass before her eyes. *Drugged.*
His fists seemed to be closing tighter by the second, and she knew that she would have to wait for a prime moment to make her escape...If only she could stay conscious that long. *I've got to do something NOW...*
Slipping her right foot out of its black satin pump, she caught his eyes and raised an eyebrow suggestively as she situated it in his crotch, wriggling her toes. Surprised, Darcy smiled and relaxed his grip just enough for Scully to break free.
Spinning out of her chair, she began to run in only one shoe, but darkness swept over her as she fell to the ground...

"Get away from her! Put your arms in the air!" Mulder had burst through the door with two agents behind him, just in time to find Darcy leaning over Scully, his left hand hidden under the edge of her calf-length dress. "I said get AWAY from her!"
The agents quickly tackled Darcy and pinned him to the ground, cuffing him as they read him the Miranda rights. Mulder rushed to Scully and kneeled beside her limp body, sprawled out on the floor. His face crumpled with absolute devastation when it dawned on him that he may have lost her. *And I never told her how I felt.*
Reaching out for what seemed like an eternity, his right hand bridged the vast distance that separated them. The backs of his fingers lightly brushed along her cheek and her eyes fluttered, struggling to open. Thank you...I couldn't live without her.
"Scully?" Mulder placed his palm against her flushed cheek and cradled her head in his lap, smoothing a stray lock of her flaming hair behind her ear.
"Mulder," she mumbled. "Do your boxers really glow in the dark?" Her piercing blue eyes were clouded with confusion as she slowly became oriented.
"Hmmmmm?" Where did that come from? So she liked the boxers, huh?
"Scully, are you all right?"
Her mind clearing, Scully suddenly comprehended the fatal danger from which she had so narrowly escaped. Clinging to Mulder's forearm, her tears began to flow silently down her face to pool against his palm.
"I'm fine, Mulder. But when are we going to finish that kiss?"
Lying down beside her with a faint smile playing across his lips, Mulder reached up and caressed her face with both hands, brushing away her teardrops with his thumbs. She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled her body closer to his protective embrace, sighing as he kissed her forehead. Then he tilted her chin upward and she began to drown in his fervent hazel eyes. *Eyes as bottomless as the deepest ocean. I could stare into them for infinity.*
His lips finally descended to hers as they both gave in to their mutual love. A love that they ultimately shared on every level; a love that was undeniable, unable to be cast into words. They were friends, lovers, soulmates, and so much more...
Memories of the last six years flashed across his mind. That night in the rain in Oregon; the bullet she had lodged in his shoulder; the quarrels in Comity; the night at the hospital in Allentown; her holding him at gunpoint in her mother's home; her lullaby in a Florida forest; her resigning from the Bureau; his hands on her hips as he taught her to play baseball. But he had almost let it all slip away.
*Good and bad, I don't regret a single moment. I'd do it all again, Scully. All for you.*

The End! Hope you all liked it...it was my first attempt at fanfiction. Give me some feedback! :) -Cher