Title: The
Wolfman Cometh
Rating: R
Category:
Spoilers:
Detour, other minor ones; takes place late Season 6, but doesn't follow
the timeline
Disclaimer:
These characters belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions
Summary:
Another nice trip to the forest
* * *
* * *
It happened so fast at first he thought he'd
imagined it. Then a searing pain in his
right leg made him stumble and he knew the encounter was all too real. He aimed the flashlight beam downward and
nearly gagged at the sight of his leg - jeans shredded, blood already soaking
his sock.
"Oh, shi..."
Suddenly something crashed into him from behind,
knocking the air from his lungs and sending him sprawling headfirst into the
underbrush. His weapon and flashlight
rolled in different directions, and he instinctively reached out with both
hands to retrieve them, grateful that some light from the full moon was able to
filter through the canopy of the surrounding trees and into the small clearing.
As his fingers brushed the grip of his revolver,
something clamped down hard on his outstretched left wrist. He cried out in excruciating pain and his
stomach rolled at the smell of torn flesh and the sound of crushed bone. White sparks appeared before his eyes as he
was flipped on his back and bolts of pain shot through his elbow and into his
shoulder.
He kicked out blindly with his good leg, trying to
extricate his wrist from the vice-like grip, but a large paw with razor-sharp
claws swiped across his chest, tearing through his clothes, slicing his skin.
The jaws closed tighter and began to pull, the
creature intent on tugging him out of the clearing and into the cover of the
dense forest. He knew this was his only
chance; if the creature succeeded, he would surely die.
Gritting his teeth to stave off the pain he knew
would follow, he mustered all his strength and used both legs to land a savage
kick directly on the creature's snout.
More from surprise than discomfort, the beast released his grip
momentarily, but it was just enough. He
kicked out fiercely again, this time sending the creature backward into the
underbrush.
The barrel of his weapon glistened in the
moonlight, and he rolled toward it, snatching it up with his right hand and
scrambling to his feet in one fluid motion.
As his left arm dangled limply at his side, he raised the gun in the
direction of the beast and squeezed off two rounds before a black blur hurtled
toward him and knocked him off his feet.
He pulled the trigger twice more as he tumbled backwards, waiting for
the sound of the creature's pounce to finish him off. But the only thing he heard was a sickening
*thud* as his head connected with the trunk of a fallen tree at the edge of the
clearing.
He tried to sit up but his head lolled forward and
his vision blurred. All around him was
silent except for a muffled sound in the distance ...
"Mul-derrrrrr!"
Was he dreaming?
Or maybe he was dead.
"Mul-derrrrrr! Answer me!"
The word was on the tip of his tongue and despite
the pain and the fog in his brain he forced it out onto his lips.
"Scul-lee ..." It was little more than a
whisper; and then he slipped away into the blessed darkness.
* * *
* * *
12 HOURS EARLIER
U.S. ROUTE 15
"Werewolves, Mulder?"
He didn't even have to steal a glance in her
direction. He sensed that the woman in
the passenger seat beside him was giving the eyebrow a workout.
"You're dragging me out into the wilderness
on a Friday night to chase werewolves?"
"Well, you can't really chase werewolves in
the daytime, can you, Scully?" He
sucked in another sunflower seed and dropped the hull out the car window. "Did you have plans that I wasn't aware
of?"
"Don't play dumb with me, Mulder," she
said, placing her finger in the file as a bookmark. "Are you seriously trying to tell me
that you didn't have your big monster sniffer working overtime to try and find
us a case that would potentially take us out of town all weekend so that we
might miss the barbecue at my mother's on Sunday?" He looked at her quizzically. "The barbecue that will feature a guest
appearance by Bill and Tara?"
"Oh, *that* barbecue." He flashed her a sly smile. "Well, Scully, my 'monster sniffer,' as
you put it, is flattered, but I can't take the credit. This little trip is courtesy of A.D.
Skinner. He sent us on this one."
"Why?"
"Catoctin Mountain Park is managed by the
National Park Service, so that puts this under Federal jurisdiction." He noticed that she had flipped the file open
once more. "Not to mention the fact
that the Presidential retreat, Camp David, sits right smack dab in the middle
of it. Can't have a werewolf sneaking up
and biting Hillary on the ass now, can we?"
"No," she replied. "Anyway, I think that one wolf in the
White House is enough."
He laughed at her joke and reached into his jacket
pocket for more seeds.
"But why did we have to come today?" she
whined. "Couldn't this have waited
till next week?"
"Oh, come now, Scully," he chuckled,
preparing to turn off the highway.
"That should be fairly obvious."
With an exasperated "humph" she thumbed
through a few more pages of the folder.
"Full moon," she finally said, glancing over to see Mulder
touch the tip of his nose with his forefinger.
"The three previous attacks were on the first night of the full
moon - March 31st, March 2nd, and January 31st."
"So if we're looking for a werewolf, this is
our best chance to find one," Mulder interjected.
They continued in silence, Scully reading through
the file and Mulder navigating the winding road up the mountain. He was so caught up in watching for oncoming
traffic and animals darting out into the roadway that he jumped slightly when
she spoke.
"Your victims here are hardly credible,
Mulder," she said. "All admit
they were drinking just prior to the attacks.
Two of them are college students.
It could have been some kind of prank."
"Thirty-two stitches, Scully. That's a pretty elaborate, not to mention
nasty, prank."
Now it was time for the Rational Explanations. "Well, in their inebriated state they
could have mistaken any large, furry animal for a werewolf. A bear, a large wild dog, maybe even a real
wolf."
He laughed.
"Scully, what are the odds of finding a real wolf in the Maryland
mountains?"
"Slightly less than the odds of finding a
werewolf in the Maryland mountains, I'd say."
He spotted the parking lot for the Ranger Station
and turned on the blinker. "The
attacks are very similar, but one constant in all three, aside from the full
moon, is that each victim described his attacker as walking upright on two
legs. I've never seen a wolf do that,
not even on Stupid Pet Tricks."
She shook her head. "Mulder ..."
"Look, the Sheriff is meeting us here with
the three victims. Let's just talk to them
before we draw any conclusions, agreed?"
"Agreed." She closed the file and dropped it into her
briefcase. "But we're not missing
that barbecue on Sunday, Mulder. Agreed?"
He eased the sedan into a parking space and turned
off the ignition. "Wouldn't miss it
for the world, Scully."
* * *
* * *
5:05 P.M.
Throughout the afternoon, they had each
interviewed the three victims separately, and as a group. Clay Baldwin, Matthew Sterling, and Fred
Jergens all stuck to their stories that were quite similar, as Mulder
said. They had each stepped away from
their campsite and into the forest alone - one to gather firewood and two to
relieve themselves - when they were attacked.
In each case, their friends came running when they heard cries for help,
and the attacker had been frightened away.
Unfortunately, none of the friends had seen the creature, but the
descriptions from the three victims were amazingly similar: built like a man, six-and-a-half to seven
feet tall, walking upright, covered in thick hair, long fangs, and sharp claws
on hands and feet. All three attacks had
occurred within a half-mile of each other.
"Now you can take your vehicle this
far," Sheriff Davis was pointing at the map spread out on the table. "You can park in the lot here, and then
it's about a three mile hike to the general area you're looking for. It'll be dark soon, but the trails will be
well lit with the full moon. There will
be lots of signposts along the way to point you in the right direction."
Mulder supposed he should be listening, but he was
too busy concentrating on something far more important. On the other side of the lodge, Scully had
been talking to one of the Park Rangers non-stop for more than 10 minutes. They were standing close together, and every
so often Scully would tilt her head back and laugh out loud, as if the Ranger
were the funniest man on the face of the earth.
Each time she laughed the Ranger would touch her shoulder, and Mulder
seethed.
"... unless you have any more
questions."
Mulder suddenly realized the Sheriff was waiting
for an answer. "I'm sorry,
what?"
"I said I think that about covers it unless
you have any more questions, Agent Mulder," Sheriff Davis repeated.
"Um ... no.
I'm sure we'll be fine."
Mulder gathered up the map, folded it hastily, and swung his backpack
over his shoulder. "If this
creature is a creature of habit, we should be able to pick up its trail
tonight, and with any luck, we'll be able to stop it."
"Well, the Park Rangers aren't allowing any
campers into that sector tonight," the Sheriff said, "so there
shouldn't be anyone getting in your way.
I sure hope you catch this thing, Agent Mulder."
"Uh ... yeah," Mulder nodded, his eyes
trained on Scully and the Ranger again.
When the Ranger handed Scully a backpack and they began to walk toward
him, he turned back to the Sheriff and offered his hand. "Yeah, thank you,
Sheriff. Thanks for everything. We'll stop at your office on the way home
tomorrow and give you a full report."
"Ready to go?" Scully asked as she
stopped at Mulder's side.
"Whenever you are," he answered, and
headed for the door. He assumed Scully
would be right behind him, but instead she turned back to the Ranger. "Thank you, Dan. I appreciate all the help."
"No problem, Dana," the Ranger
replied. "I'm on duty all night, so
I'll see you when you get back in the morning."
"I'll be looking forward to it." Scully patted his forearm, and then followed
Mulder out of the Station.
"You and Ranger Rick seemed to have an awful
lot to talk about," Mulder said as he unlocked the trunk so they could
place their packs inside.
"His name is Dan," Scully
corrected. "Dan Phillips. He was very nice. He shared some of his knowledge about the
forest with me."
"I'll bet that's not all he wanted to share
with you." Before Scully could
answer, he pointed at the additional pack the Ranger had handed her. "What's in the bag?"
"Just some extra things we might need ...
just in case. C'mon, Mulder," she
said, climbing into the passenger seat of the sedan again. "Let's get this show on the road."
* * *
* * *
11:42 P.M.
"Mulder.
C'mon, Mulder. I need you to wake
up now." She pressed her fingernail
into his ear lobe, first lightly, then harder.
"Wake up, Mulder."
As his eyelashes began to flutter she let out the
breath she had been holding since she heard the first gunshots. "C'mon, Mulder, wake up."
"Wha ... what happened?" He shifted slightly and the moan that escaped
was testament that he wouldn't try that again.
"Lie still, Mulder." Dried blood and sweat had plastered his hair
to his forehead, and she pushed it back gently.
"I need to check you out, just lie very still for me, okay?"
"'Kay," he muttered. "Thirsty."
"I know, just hang on a minute." She pulled back his eyelids to check his
pupils and to her relief they were equal and reactive. "Track my finger," she said, but he
seemed to have trouble following the digit floating in front of his face. "Mulder, can you see me
clearly?" When he didn't answer,
she pinched his earlobe again.
"Stay with me, Mulder. Can
you see me clearly?" she asked again.
"Blurry," he said, his voice getting
stronger. "Kind of blurry. God, Scully, my arm ... feels like it's on
fire."
"I know, Mulder," she replied, stroking
his hair. "It's in pretty bad
shape. Do you feel nauseous at all? Like you're going to throw up?"
"No, not really."
"Good."
Scully unzipped the pack the Ranger had provided and pulled out the
first-aid kit. Although it was small,
she found it surprisingly complete.
"I'm going to give you some Tylenol first. That might help the pain a little. But just a few sips of water, okay? I don't want you to get sick."
"Okay," he agreed through clenched
teeth, waiting patiently while Scully shook three pills from the container and
unscrewed the water bottle cap. She
placed the pills on his tongue and held the bottle to his lips. "Just a little, Mulder. That's right."
He took one last sip and nodded that the pills
were down, then leaned back against the fallen tree. "I found it, Scully," he said as
she removed the scissors from the first aid kit. "The monster. Or rather, it found me."
"It found you, all right, Mulder. You're a mess." She cut along the inside seam of his jeans,
providing better access to the damaged leg.
"I don't know why I let you talk me into splitting up,
Mulder," she said as she began her examination. "Every time we split up, something bad
happens." The gashes in his leg
were deep, but had almost stopped bleeding.
They might need stitches, she surmised, but right now were the least of
his problems.
"We had a lot of ground to cover,
Scully," he said as she tried to shift his clothing to look at the
scratches on his chest without jostling his arm too much. "If we hadn't split up, we might never
have found it."
"I'm beginning to think that might not have
been such a bad thing." The
scratches were superficial, she noted.
Better to leave his clothing in place and retain the warmth. Even though it had been an unusually warm
day, the night air was still chilly.
She ran her fingers along the back of his head and
found a large knot but no blood. When
she placed her hand on his left shoulder, he flinched. "Don't, Scully. Please don't touch it."
She smiled reassuringly. "I have to take a look, Mulder. I'll be as gentle as I can. Besides, none of my other patients complain
about my examination technique."
He gave her a weak smile, but she could see the
apprehension in his eyes. "Tell me
what the thing that attacked you looked like," she said. Perhaps if she could keep his mind occupied,
it would help him block out the pain.
He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to watch
her touch the injured arm, but he pretended to be visualizing his encounter
with the ferocious beast.
"It was too dark to see it clearly," he
said through clenched teeth, jumping slightly when her hand brushed his
wrist. "Ow! It ... it was big, tall. At least a foot taller than me and nearly a
hundred pounds heavier." He tried
to slow his breathing. "And it was
hairy - all over. I couldn't see it, but
I could feel it. And it had very bad
breath."
She laughed and patted his right arm. "All done. You can open your eyes now." When he did, she was smiling her best
bedside-manner smile. "Is that a
common trait among werewolves? Bad
breath?"
"They don't have anyplace to carry their
Tic-Tac's."
She smiled and angled the first aid kit closer to
her flashlight's beam, ready to pull out the materials she would need to treat
his injuries. "Okay, Mulder, here's
the deal. We need to do some down and
dirty first aid here. The wrist is in
pretty bad shape, and I need to get it clean and immobilized as soon as
possible to reduce the risk of infection.
It's going to hurt like hell, but I'll try to do it as quickly and painlessly
as I can. Are you up for that? Mulder?"
When he didn't answer she looked up. He was unconscious - asleep or passed out, it
didn't really matter at this point. She
gathered her tools and silently went to work.
* * *
* * *
1:35 A.M.
He awoke with a start, brushing away a bug that
was crawling across his nose. He tried
to blink the sleep out of his eyes, but then remembered the events of the
evening and realized the blurred vision was a result of his fall rather than
the Sandman. He tried to sit up
straight, and was surprised to find his left arm in a sling bound tightly to
his chest. It was still quite painful,
but nowhere near the agony that had wracked his body earlier.
He could see well enough to know that something or
someone was crouching on the ground in front of him. He cleared his throat and managed to croak
out a few words. "Scully, what are
you doing?"
She turned on her heels, then crawled over to
him. "Good, you're awake," she
said, placing her hand on his forehead to check for fever. "I think you've only got a mild
concussion, but I don't want you to sleep too long at one time. You don't feel feverish. That's good."
He sighed when she pulled her hand away. "So, what's the damage, doc?"
"All in all, not as bad as it could have
been." She easily slipped into
medical mode. "I cleaned and
dressed the gashes on your leg. They
might need stitches, but they're not too bad.
The scratches on your chest are minor.
But your wrist is pretty bad, Mulder.
I cleaned it and set it the best I could, mainly just to keep it
immobile, but I think you're going to need some surgery and probably some
physical therapy. There's a lot of
damage to the nerves and the tendons.
But I think if we get it treated pretty quickly you should be able to
regain full use of it."
He nodded and looked down at the strips of
bandages that bound the sling to his chest.
"You did all this while I was asleep? I must have really been out."
"Well, you did wake up once, but you passed
out pretty quickly. That was probably
for the best." She brushed her
hands on her pants and looked into his eyes.
"I'm afraid there's a little more," she said.
"More?"
"I don't know if it was a werewolf that bit
you, Mulder, but *something* bit you.
There's a trail of blood going that way," she pointed toward the
west, "so you obviously hit whatever it was. But if the Rangers can't find
it first thing tomorrow morning so that it can be tested, then we're going to
have to start a rabies vaccine series.
That's five injections over the course of roughly a month, and then the
Rabies Immune Globulin. It's important
to start the vaccine as soon as possible after potential exposure, so I'm
afraid in all likelihood, that's what's in store for you."
He looked at her with his best puppy dog
eyes. "We don't seem to have very
good luck in the forest, do we, Scully?"
"No, we don't," she said, brushing his
hair out of his eyes. "And I want
you to promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"That next time you won't go to so much
trouble to avoid a barbecue at my mother's." She placed a quick kiss on his forehead, and
crawled back to the spot where she had been crouching before, facing him this
time.
He chuckled.
"Agreed. Not even avoiding
Bill is worth this." He scratched
his nose and shivered. "What *are*
you doing, anyway?" he asked.
"Building a fire," she replied,
arranging the small sticks in the shape of a teepee, and pushing some dried
leaves in the center."
"This seems vaguely familiar." He smiled at the memory of the last time they
had spent the night in the forest together.
"Are you gonna take your shell casing apart now?"
"Nope."
She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a ziploc bag, waving it
and its contents - a box of waterproof matches - in front of his nose.
"That seems a bit like overkill, doesn't
it? Waterproof *and* a baggie?"
"One has to be prepared for any eventuality
when you're around, Mulder," she replied, striking the match and watching
in delight as the fire caught right away.
She piled on a few larger sticks and placed the matches back in the bag
before returning them to her jacket pocket.
"You take those everywhere you go?"
Mulder asked, stretching his chilled feet toward Scully's small blaze.
"Never leave home without them," she said,
adding larger branches now. "After
all, you never know when Fox Mulder is going to take a detour. Never let it be said that I don't learn from
my mistakes."
"You weren't very prepared when we were in
Florida, were you?"
"Well, on that trip, I thought the biggest
risk of injury at our *planned* destination would be something like poking a
swizzle stick in your eye." She
stirred the fire with a branch, sending sparks up into the darkness. "As you can see, my new motto is 'Be
Prepared'."
"I thought that was the Boy Scout
motto." Mulder coughed and winced,
the small movement enough to remind him of the pain in his arm.
"I've known my share of Boy
Scouts." She winked at him and
turned her attention back to the fire.
"Would you care to elaborate on that?"
"Um ... no." She giggled at his downfallen
expression. "But I never learned as
much from any of them as I learned from one Indian Guide."
He smiled with great satisfaction and sighed. "But I don't suppose you learned how to
make it rain weenies and marshmallows, did you?"
She smiled and reached into the backpack that
Ranger Phillips had given her. She pulled out a handful of pre-packaged snacks
- rice krispie treats, granola bars, rice cakes, and two Hershey bars.
"I'm impressed," Mulder said. "Pass the chocolate and the rice
krispies."
"Let's try a few small pieces of the rice
cake first," she replied, tearing open the bag and handing one of the
wafers to him, followed by one of the bottles of water. "Here.
Delicious and nutritious. If you
keep that down, then you can graduate to the next level. Small bites.
Small sips."
He reluctantly took a small bite of the rice
cake. "Yuck. Definitely not weenies and marshmallows. But you did learn how to make it rain
Styrofoam." He took another small
bite and shivered again as he waited for her small fire to grow bigger. "But I bet you still can't make it rain
sleeping bags."
"Oh no?"
She reached into the backpack again and retrieved a packaged thermal
first aid blanket. "Ta-da!"
He smiled and shook his head. "Well, if I recall correctly, this means
that now I get lucky."
She raised an eyebrow as she removed the blanket
from its plastic wrap and spread it over him.
"There'll be plenty of time for that once you get back to full
strength," she said, purposefully brushing her breasts against his chin as
she tucked the blanket around him.
"Right now, you need to rest. There now, we're all set. We've got water, we've got food, we've got
heat, who could ask for anything more?"
He took a small swig of water to wash down the
rice cake and held the bottle between his legs as he replaced the cap. "Okay, you've provided us with all the
comforts of home, but have you thought about how we're going to get out of
here? I think Camp David is just a few
miles over that ridge. Maybe we could go
ring the doorbell, see if Bill and Hillary are home."
"I don't think you'll make it. And besides, you're just hoping Monica would
be there," she said, and reached into the backpack once again. She pulled out a small electronic device and
pushed a button on the front. The
equipment emitted two short beeps and a red light came on. He looked at her quizzically.
"Homing device." She crawled over to sit it on top of the
fallen tree and then took a seat next to Mulder. He offered her a space under the blanket, but
she shook her head. "Your friend,
Ranger Rick, suggested I bring it. They
provide them to inexperienced campers or people who are hiking alone. I told Ranger Rick that if we weren't back by
dawn they should send out a search party.
With this, they'll be able to find us pretty easily. We just need to make it through the next few
hours and everything should be fine."
"So that's why you were spending so much
quality time with Ranger Rick, huh?" Mulder chuckled. "Here I was, insanely jealous, and the
whole time you were just using your sexuality for survival favors."
"That's right." She unwrapped a granola bar and took a huge
bite. "If you got it, flaunt it, I
always say."
"Well, tell me, Mary Poppins, you wouldn't
happen to have a TV and satellite dish in that bottomless bag, would you? I'm missing the Knicks game."
She reached forward and grabbed the pack, turning
it upside down and shaking it with a grand flourish. "Nope.
Empty. We'll just have to
entertain ourselves."
"We could tell ghost stories."
"Haven't you had enough monsters for one
night?" she asked. "When did
this fascination start, Mulder? When you
were a kid or not until you found the X-Files?"
"Nah, I loved to read books and watch movies
about misunderstood monsters when I was a kid.
I think on some level I connected with them." He took another sip of water. "I loved 'Frankenstein,' 'Dracula,' 'The
Mummy,' and of course, 'The Wolf Man.' A
classic. One of the greatest horror
films ever made. Lon Chaney, Jr., Claude
Rains, Bela Lugosi. 'Even a man who is
pure in heart, and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the
wolfbane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright.' Gotta love that."
She shook her head, marveling at his memory for
useless trivia. "I think the only
wolfman movie I ever saw was 'I Was a Teenage Werewolf.' Not very good. I had trouble accepting Pa Ingalls as a
werewolf."
He laughed.
"Little Joe Cartwright. To
girls, Michael Landon will always be Charles Ingalls; to boys, he'll always be
Little Joe Cartwright. You know, when I
was a kid we finally got a color TV because my dad wanted to watch 'Bonanza' in
color. How weird, to think of
that."
She started to speak, but Mulder continued. "You know, Scully, 'I Was a Teenage
Werewolf' is actually a pretty great metaphor for teenage adolescence. A troubled high schooler's emotions trigger
his change into a furry, fanged beast.
But you need to see some of the classics. While I'm recuperating, you can come over and
we'll watch a triple feature. 'The Wolf
Man,' 'The Howling,' and 'An American Werewolf in London.'
"Well, I can't wait." She unwrapped the Hershey bar, broke off one
square, and held it out to him. "I
guess a little chocolate will be okay."
"I'll drink to that." He tapped his plastic water bottle with hers
and they both took a brief sip. Then he
popped the chocolate into his mouth, chewing slowly as if to savor every
morsel. "We've seen our share of
monsters, haven't we Scully? The
Flukeman, Greg Pinkus, the Great Mutato, Eugene Tooms ..."
"... Donnie Pfaster, Lucas Henry, John Lee
Roche." She continued the
list. "I've always felt that the
human monsters we've encountered have been much more frightening than the
mutant variety."
"I think you're right about that," he
said, staring into the fire as Scully tossed on a few more branches. "You do believe I saw something, don't
you Scully?"
"Of course I do, Mulder," she
replied. "You weren't attacked by a
phantom. I'm just not sure it was a
werewolf, that's all." When he
frowned she added, "But, hey, cheer up!
Remember this time you're going to have proof in 30 days, one way or the
other."
"What?"
"Well, look at it this way, Mulder. In about a month, at the next full moon, if you
start sprouting fangs and hair in unusual places, you'll know that it was
definitely a werewolf." He looked
hurt, and she giggled.
"Ha, ha. Very funny." He yawned and snuggled deeper under the
thermal blanket, resting his head on her shoulder.
"You know, Mulder, you can try to get some
sleep if you want." She put her arm
around him and guided his head into her lap - just like old times. "I'll keep watch. But I will wake you every couple of hours
just in case you do have a concussion."
"I don't want to sleep, Scully," he said
as another yawn escaped. "I want to
stay awake with you. Why don't you sing
something?"
"Last time I sang to you in the forest it was
to put you to sleep." She played
with his hair as she talked, and he smiled as her fingernails tickled his
scalp.
"Well, this time, sing me awake."
She laughed.
"Okay, then, but this time you have to participate. You have to help out with the chorus,
okay?"
"Okay," he said sleepily. "Hit it."
She smiled.
"Let's see if I remember the words ... here goes. I was working in the lab late one night, when
my eyes beheld an eerie sight. My
monster from his slab began to rise, and suddenly to my surprise ..." She waited a few seconds, then squeezed his
ear. "Hey, that's your cue."
"Oh, I forgot. He did the mash ..."
"He did the monster mash."
"The monster mash ..."
"It was a graveyard smash."
"He did the mash ..."
"It caught on in a flash."
"He did the mash ..."
"He did the monster mash. From my laboratory in the castle east
..."
* * *
* * *
ONE MONTH LATER
HEGAL PLACE
He lay back on the pillows, a satisfied smile
spread across his face, exhausted but in a good way. Today he'd received his final shot in the
rabies vaccine series and he and Scully had celebrated with dinner out and a
stop at the video store for their werewolf triple feature. The movies would wait till tomorrow, late
fees be damned, as their chaste kisses on the couch had progressed into
passionate but careful lovemaking in the bedroom. Mulder's arm was still encased in a cast up
to his elbow, but necessity was the mother of invention, after all.
"You're looking pretty pleased with
yourself," Scully said as she padded back into the bedroom carrying two
bottles of water. They didn't want to
risk dehydration with the entire night ahead of them. As she plopped on the bed and handed him a
bottle, he couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful she looked in red silk
pajamas, her hair pulled back, face freshly scrubbed. He kissed her before loosening the cap and
downing about half the bottle's contents.
"Slow down, Mulder," she cautioned. "You don't want to make yourself
sick."
"Still looking after me." He replaced the lid on the bottle and set it
on the nightstand.
"Well, somebody has to." She leaned over him to set her bottle beside
his, then traced the long scars still visible on his chest with her
finger. "These have healed
nicely. Your legs too. Pretty soon you'll be able to get that cast
off and get that wrist back into shape.
You'll be good as new before you know it."
"I owe it all to my doctor," he said,
placing a kiss on the top of her head.
"I'm here today because of her survival skills, her medical
expertise, and her tender loving care."
"She must be a genius," Scully replied,
rolling onto her back. "And damn
lucky to boot." Suddenly something
outside the window caught her eye and she pointed toward it. "Look, Mulder. The full moon. Well, you don't *look* any different. No long teeth or extra hair anywhere that I
can see. How do you feel?"
"I don't know, Scully, I do feel
*something*." He fingered the hair
on his chest. "Sort of like a
tingling sensation all over my body. I'm
afraid it might be the wolfman coming out in me. Maybe you'd better run for your life."
"Oh, I'll take my chances with the Big Bad
Wolf." She placed a pillow under
his cast and climbed over him, straddling his hips.
"You know, you *do* sort of remind me of
Little Red Riding Hood in that outfit," he said, pulling the satiny hem of
her pajama top between his fingers.
"Really?" She smiled and took his right hand in both of
hers, stroking each finger with her thumb.
"Oh, Mulder, what big hands you have."
"The better to touch you with, my dear,"
he replied, and cupped her breast through the pajama fabric.
She leaned forward and traced her forefinger
across his lower lip. "Oh, Mulder,
what big lips you have."
"The better to kiss you with, my
dear." He placed his right hand at
the back of her neck and pulled her downward, the electricity of their kiss sending
a tingle straight down to his toes and back again.
She broke the kiss and slid backward, pulling her
hands slowly down his chest. She stopped
at the waistband of his boxers, running her fingers under the elastic,
stretching it out. She pretended to
sneak a peek inside and exclaimed, "Oh, Mulder ..."
He grinned like a cat about to pounce on the
canary. "Go ahead, Red. You can say it."
She smiled seductively. "... what a big *EGO* you
have!" She let the elastic go with
a snap and whooped with delight as she hopped off the bed and out of his grasp,
his mobility slowed by the heavy cast.
"You really know how to hurt a guy,
Scully," he said, rubbing the area where the elastic had left its sting.
"I'm sorry, Mulder," she replied,
approaching the bed cautiously, on the lookout for retaliation. "As a peace offering, I'll do
that." She moved his hand and began
rubbing the same area, pleased at the immediate response and glad that her
little prank seemed to be forgotten.
"Keep doing that, Scully," he moaned,
"and I might turn into a wolf tonight after all."
"Not now, Mulder," she said, using her
other hand to reach over and turn off the lamp.
"I can only handle one monster at a time."
* * *
* * *
THE END