From: writer@agnewdt.demon.co.uk
Date: Fri, 13 Feb 1998 01:09:58 GMT
Subject: Moon Mad.Agnew.atxc

Okay to archive as long as the story remains unaltered and my name is
still on the story.

Disclaimer:  The characters and situations of the television program
"The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox
Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without
permission.  No copyright infringement is intended.

Spoilers:  None

Rating:  PG 

Classification:  UST, H

Summary:  When a full moon hits on the day before Valentine's Day,
Mulder and Scully find it has a strange effect on them and others at the
FBI.

Author's Note:  Characterization in this story stretches the envelope a
little from the actual series, but I hope not by much.  At least not any
more than it was stretched, for fun, in Jose Chung's From Outer Space.
This story does not fit in with the current story line in Season 5.
Constructive criticism and comments welcome.

Moon Mad (1/3)
by Denise A. Agnew
writer@agnewdt.demon.co.uk

FBI Headquarters
Friday, February 13
11:30am
Basement 

     "He's been screeching at the top of his lungs for ten minutes,
Dana.  I don't know what to do."  The elderly woman's voice was
scratchy, like a phonograph record under an old needle.

     "I'm sorry, Mrs. Grantier, I don't know what's gotten into
Skeeter," Scully said into the phone.  She doodled on the desk pad in
front of her and drew a large heart with the red pen.  "Really, I'm
sorry.  It's almost noon.  I'll make a run home and see what I can do."

        "Are you sure?  I can use my key and go in and see if he's all
right."

     Scully hesitated.  Kindly as the woman was, Mrs. Grantier was also
a snoop.  "Well, it would save me an extra trip home, and I've got a lot
of work to do here.  Are you sure it's no trouble?"

     "Of course not.  I'll call you back as soon as possible."

     After Scully hung up the phone, she continued to doodle on the pad
and think about what had happened to her new pet.  She had hesitated to
get an animal at all, because she was away from home so often.  Her
mother was acquaintances with a woman who was allergic to her cat and
had to give it away.  So it seemed perfect timing that Scully had been
considering getting a furry companion.  In fact, she'd had been pleased
when Skeeter had turned out to be a placid and very calm male cat.
Affectionate and playful, he never scratched her furniture, he used his
cat box, and hadn't coughed up a hair ball.  Yet.

     Scully looked down at her artwork.  The large heart sported a
sizable arrow right through the center.  Any plain old scribble wouldn't
have been a big deal.  This heart was shaded and plump, and the arrow
intricate and precise.  Not bad.  Not bad at all for someone who had all
the artistic talent of Elmer Fudd.  She dropped the pen, bemused.  She
never doodled.  Never.

*   *   *

FBI Headquarters
A.D. Skinner's Office
11:45am

     "You're sure this is finally over, Agent Mulder?"  Walter Skinner
took his glasses off and passed a weary hand over his eyes.  "This case
topped the weirdness mark on a scale of one to ten."

      Mulder sat in the chair across the desk from Skinner and twiddled
his thumbs, his body sagging in the chair in that relaxed fashion only
Mulder could sport without looking like a slob.  "I'd say it was only a
five.  A house haunted by the ghost of a drag queen isn't stranger than
that case we had last month involving the woman haunted by her deceased
parakeet."

     Skinner sighed and settled his glasses on his nose.  "You'll be
disappointed to know, then, that I don't have anything for you.  My
suggestion is to take the rest of the day off, relax, and get ready for
Valentine's Day tomorrow."

     "Sir?" Mulder asked, uncertain he'd heard the generally taciturn
assistant director correctly.

     
     "You heard what I said.  Take a load off.  You've been working hard
the last few weeks.  Busting your ass.  You look a little green around
the gills."

     Mulder knew he was right, but with his usual aplomb didn't feel
obligated or capable of admitting any weakness.  "Why, sir, I didn't
know you cared."

     "Don't get mushy on me, Mulder.  Just do it.  That's an order."

     Mulder smiled slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching up for a
millisecond.  He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Skinner quite
so affable.  "Something special going on for you this Valentine's Day,
sir?"

     "I've got a date, Mulder.  Not that it's any of your business."

     "Anyone I know?"

     "No."  Skinner leaned his elbows on his desk.  "But she's petite,
has red hair, and she's employed by the FBI."

     For a moment Mulder's heart almost went into his mouth.  He sat
speechless for a breath or two, taking in the concept that Skinner might
be talking about a very special agent Mulder knew well.

     "What are you staring at?"  Skinner asked.

     Mulder swallowed hard and snapped his mouth shut.  He stood and
headed for the door.  "I think I'll take the rest of the afternoon off.
I do feel a tad queasy."

     Mulder left Skinner's offices at a clip and headed back to his
basement lair.  He had a strange taste in his mouth and realized he was
biting the inside of his cheek.  Holy Moses. Skinner couldn't possibly
mean Scully was his date.  NO WAY.

     The idea sat in his stomach like a canon ball, rolling this way and
that, nauseating him.  Scully on a date wasn't unfathomable, but he'd
never pictured her with someone like Skinner.  He sure as hell wouldn't
believe that she'd jeopardize her career by dating her superior.  NO
WAY.

     Determined not to think too much about the disturbing
possibilities, he decided to stop off at Agent DiSilva's desk and see if
she was free for drinks tonight.  A strange desire not to 
be alone had plagued him for the last day and a half, and he hadn't
chatted with Angie DiSilva in weeks.

     As Mulder walked through the halls he took in the unusual amount of
Valentine's Day decorations piled on what seemed to be every available
area.  What had gotten into people lately?  Was there a full moon out or
something?

     He reached Angie's large cubicle and spotted her leaning back in
her chair staring into space.  On her desk was a vase filled with a
dozen red roses and next to the vase was a large, ostentatious
Valentine's Day card declaring undying hearts and flowers to it's
recipient.

     A distinctly goofy expression was plastered on her pale cream
complexion.  She ran a slim hand through her wavy, shoulder length black
hair.  Her smile said she knew something Mulder didn't know.  Of course
that was always a mistake.  Mulder's predisposition to challenge any
mystery meant he'd have the riddle figured out within the half hour.

     "Penny for your thoughts, Agent DiSilva," Mulder said, settling
himself into the extra chair in the cubicle without asking permission to
enter.

     Angie tossed a half exasperated, half amused glance in his
direction, then looked back into space.  "You're a cheeky bastard,
Mulder."

     "I'll take that as a compliment."

     She swiveled her chair to face him and crossed her lithe, nicely
formed legs.  Mulder's glance landed on the length of her suit skirt,
which had hitched up a lot higher than appropriate.  Catching his
fixation, she tugged down on the material and managed to pull it down to
her knees.

     "What brings you here?" she asked.  "Haven't seen you in...oh...at
least three weeks."

     "I thought you might be available for drinks tonight.  Or maybe
tomorrow night."

     "Why, Mulder?  Dateless on St. Valentine's Day?"

     "I'm always dateless on Valentine's Day."

     "No case?"

     "No case."

     "No UFO sightings or Big Foot tracks to keep you up until all hours
of the night?"

     "Nary a one."

     Her grin was one part salacious, and one part amused. "Sorry,
Mulder.  You're too late.  My boyfriend Tad and I are going out for
dinner tonight.  And tomorrow night we're trying out his new hot tub.
I'd ask you to join us but I think it would spoil the mood."

     His surprise, he was sure, had to show on his face.  He might be
schooled at hiding his real feelings under a mask of indifference
sometimes, but he had no idea Angie had acquired a boyfriend.  In fact,
Angie had said the last time they'd talked that she was done with men
for a long time.  Except for Mulder, of course.  Mulder was just a
friend.

     "A new paramour?"

     She gestured to the roses and flowers and smiled.  "This certainly
isn't from the tooth fairy."

     "I thought you were off men for awhile."

     "Sometimes it just happens to you like that."  She snapped her
fingers.  "And everything changes.  Haven't you ever had that
experience?"

     Mulder thought back, and he realized that if he'd had the
experience it hadn't lasted longer than a day or two.  "No."

     "I never thought it could happen to me, but I think I'm in love for
real this time."

     He grimaced.  "Humph."

     "Scrooge."

     "I think it's the silly season.  What is it with everybody around
here?  It seems like everywhere I look people have got hearts, flowers,
and decorations all over their offices.  It's like Christmas.  I don't
remember it being like this last year."

     She uncrossed her legs, then crossed them the other direction.
"You were on a weird case last year, remember?  That woman who was
sending men valentines and then killing them?  I doubt you would have
noticed anything going on beyond that."

     His gaze only stayed on her legs for a few seconds this time.  "How
could I forget?" 

     He also recalled getting Scully the valentine card last year and it
taking days for her to open it. 

     Angie shook her head.  "I swear, Mulder, you've got to be the
slowest man on earth."

     His eyebrows lifted.  "Slow?  In what department?"

     "The romance department.  If you want a woman you've got to work a
little harder at it.  Woe her.  Win her.  Build up the excitement a
little until she can't refuse you."

     His grin this time spread full across his face.  "You mean you
would have gone out with me if I asked you a week earlier."

     She shook her head.  "No.  In my case you're still too late.  But
there's bound to be other women...well, there might be other women who
would have gone out with you."

     "Might have been other women?"

     "Women who aren't afraid of your reputation."

     "I have a rep-" he remembered that he'd once asked Scully that same
question oh so long ago.  "Okay, I see what you mean."

     "You could still get lucky, Mulder.  Dish out the charm."

     He stood slowly and went to the opening of her cubicle.  He leaned
against it with his shoulder.  "My charm is dubious, Angie.  Obviously
it didn't work on you."

     "That's because I'm too damn tough for you."  She grinned widely.
"Of course, there's always other friends you could rely on if you don't
want to be dateless tomorrow night."

     "Who?"

     "What about Agent Scully?"

     He winced.  "Ah, no, I don't think so."

     "Why not?"

     "She's..."

     When he didn't continue, she leaned forward in her chair and
propped her elbow on her knee and her chin in her palm.  "Yes?"

     "She's already got a date."

     She sighed and straightened up.  Then she tossed her hands up in
resignation.  "See what I mean, Mulder?  You've gotta strike while the
iron is hot."

     "The iron is never hot."

     "You're hopeless, Mulder.  Where's your sense of adventure?"

     "She's my friend, Angie."

     "She's a woman.  She's got to have some female feelings.  A woman
has to have romance.  She's alive."  

     Alive.  Sometimes he felt he was alive for one purpose and one
purpose only.  The X-Files.  Within that realm there was nothing left.
Not much time for his mother.  No friends.  Certainly NOT romance. 
     
     She chewed absently on one corner of her cherry red lips, and her
brown eyes had settled into a super sultry bedroom allure.  "It's up to
you, Mulder, but if you have a crappie Valentine's Day you've got no one
to blame but yourself."

     "Thanks, Angie.  I knew I could count on you for an uplifting
afternoon."

     "Don't mention it."

     He turned to leave, then turned back.  "Is there a full moon
today?"

     "Yeah.  Why?"

     He shrugged.  "I thought I might go howl at the moon tonight."

     He left her cubicle certain that a bizarre new case had  already
formed right in front of him.  The explanation for all this eccentric
Valentine's Day behavior was simple.  It was full moon madness.

End of Part One

From: deirdre@x-philes.com (Deirdre)
Date: Fri, 13 Feb 1998 01:10:34 GMT
Subject: Moon Mad2.Agnew.atxc


Okay to archive as long as the story remains unaltered and my name is
still on the story.

Disclaimer:  See Part One.

Spoilers:  None

Rating:  PG 

Classification:  UST, H.

Summary:  See Part One.

Moon Mad (2/3)
by Denise A. Agnew
writer@agnewdt.demon.co.uk

FBI Headquarters
Basement
February 13
12:15pm

     "I figured you'd fallen into the black hole of Calcutta," Scully
said when Mulder came into the office.  "Where have you been?"

     Mulder smiled, something that Scully wasn't used to seeing much of
at any time.  She detected a particular ingratiating quality to his grin
and erected her guard. 

     His smile disappeared.  "I think I have a new case for us."

     "And here I thought I might be able to catch up with this other
paper work.  What have you got?"

     "The effects of the full moon on otherwise sane FBI agents."

     Scully was certain he'd blown a gasket this time.  "What?"

     "Have you noticed how people have been acting today?"

     "No...but then I've been in here all day."

     "Skinner was acting a little bizarre.  The man has a date."

     "Really?  A.D. Skinner?"

     "The one and only."

     "Good for him."

     "Then when I asked Angie DiSilva out for drinks I find out she's
madly in love and has the whole weekend sewn up."

     "Good for her."

     He frowned.  "This is not funny, Scully."

     "Oh, come on, Mulder.  That frown on your face makes you look like
a kicked basset hound.  Didn't your mother tell you your face might
freeze that way?"

     He stood up and began to pace the room.  "I'm serious.  This is
strange.  People have decorated the offices this year like it's some
great big deal or something."

     "It is a big deal.  Are you just now noticing that?"

     Throwing up his hands, he plopped back into his chair.  "I think
it's a conspiracy by greeting card companies to bilk the public out of
thousands of dollars of their hard earned cash."

     Scully was half tempted to turn to her computer and tune him out.
"Who invented that hair-brained theory?  The Lone Gunmen?"

     "Bah Humbug."

     "Wrong holiday, Mulder."

     He rolled his chair slowly toward her until he was at the corner of
her desk.  He loosened his tie, then fiddled with it until he it was
unfastened.

     "What are you doing?" Scully asked.

     "Getting comfortable.  I have a feeling I'm going to be here a long
time."

     "You can't be serious."  She crossed her arms and crossed her legs
at the same time.  Like DiSilva her skirt slid high on her thighs, but
she didn't seem inclined to correct the problem.  "You really think this
is an X-File?"  

     Mulder stared at her legs, realizing that it had been a long, long
time since he'd seen that much of Scully's legs.  The sight of them had
a inexplicable effect on him.  He couldn't move a muscle.

     "That's what's comfortable about being around you," he said, his
gaze never leaving her legs.  "I can always count on your unending
skepticism."

     Scully felt her cheeks warm as Mulder continued to stare.  A margin
at a time, his perusal inched down from her thighs, to her knees, down
over her calves, and finally landed on her ankles.

     Instead of snapping at him or reaching to yank her skirt down, she
remained immobile.  What the hell had come over her, she thought?  

     "Would you have it any other way?" she asked, her voice as uneven
as sandpaper.

     He cleared his throat suddenly, then yanked the tie the rest of the
way out of his collar.  The sound startled her and she jumped a
centimeter.  "Sometimes I'd like you different."

     She licked her lips.  His gaze fastened on hers, and the quality
she saw there was indefinable.  Definitely not the Mulder she was
accustomed to bantering with day in and day out.  Instead there was an
eerie quality that passed somewhere between the twilight zone and...

     "Spooky," she said suddenly.

     He flinched, and his gaze was clear.  No more Outer Limits.
"Excuse me?"

     The phone rang on Scully's desk, and they both started.  Scully
caught it on the second ring.  Mulder watched as her face fell.  "Oh,
you're kidding?  He was doing what?  He was scratching his what?"  She
sighed heavily.  "Sure, I'll be there right away."

     After she hung up, she reached for her purse and stood up.  "I've
got to go, Mulder.  Mrs. Grantier thinks Skeeter is in heat.  He's
acting very, very strangely."

        She headed for the door, and he followed her.  She reached for
the door knob, but he put his hand on the door above her head.  Turning
to look at him, she pined him with a pained expression.  Any closer and
he'd been in back of her.

     Once again that funny look was in his eyes.  Like he was a
carnivore.  A feline on the hunt.  A little quiver fluttered along her
body in response.  OH SHIT.  She recognized this feeling.  And it didn't
belong here.  Not now, not this minute, not with this man.

     "Male cats don't go into heat, Scully," he said huskily.  "In fact,
the way I understand it, humans are the only creatures that can be in
heat at any time, anywhere."

     At that moment she felt the elevator drop in her stomach.  She kept
her cool.  Just barely. "Anywhere?"

     "Anywhere.  I'm telling you, it's this full moon thing.  It's worth
investigating."

     She sagged a little against the door behind her...as much to put
some space between her and Mulder as to rest.  Even though she tried to
stop it, a smile parted her lips.  "You been into the cat nip lately?"

     He gazed at her silently for so long and with such intensity she
began to feel like a can of Fancy Feast placed in front of a starving
kitty.  "Come to think of it, I have had some strange cravings."

     "Take the afternoon off, Mulder.  I think you're coming down with
something."  She took a step toward him and patted him on the chest.
This seemed to wake him up, and he lifted his hand from the door and
backed away so she could get out.  "I'll call you later."

     After the door closed, he went back to his desk and stared at his
computer screen.  What the hell had just happened?  After pondering for
several moments and coming up with no answers, he logged onto the
Internet and made his connection with The Lone Gunmen.

*   *   *

FBI Headquarters
Basement
1:45pm

     "There is a theory, but it's not well accepted."  Langley's words
spilled over the screen.

     Mulder typed.  "So tell me."

     "Okay.  Some people believe that their sexual peak comes during the
full moon."

     "That explains the strange howling I heard coming from your area
last night, Langley."

     "Very funny, Mulder."

     "Go on."

     "Frohike once knew a woman who absolutely had to do the deed during
the full moon or she'd be depressed for the rest of the month."

     "Sounds like a personal problem.  Or PMS."

     "I hope Scully isn't there to see you type that."

     "Of course not."

     "Didn't think so.  Anyway, the whole story is true.  Frohike
swears."

     "Was she on anti-depressants?"

     "No.  Well, I guess she went on them after Frohike left her."

     "Frohike?"

     "Difficult to comprehend, eh?"

     Mulder paused and cleared his throat.  Then he began to type again.
"What I want to know is if you've ever heard of it affecting humans in
such a way that they've had strange feelings for..." Mulder stopped.

     After several moments, the cursor began to move.  "You there,
Mulder?"

     Mulder began typing again.  "Sorry.  Have you heard of it making
humans suddenly have feelings for people they consider friends?"

     "What kinds of feelings?"

     Biting his lip, he let his fingers fly over the keys.
"Feelings...you know.  Things they shouldn't experience."

     "Hey, Mulder, you into something kinky?"

     "Shut up and answer the question."

     "All right, all right.  Hold your pantyhose.  No.  I've never heard
of it making you feel anything that you didn't already feel in the first
place.  The only thing it might do is to enhance the original feelings
power.  Allow you to express it."

     Mulder's mouth was so dry he reached out for the cola on his desk
and took a long sip.  "Thanks, Langley.  I'll get back to you if
anything momentous happens."

     "Who is she, Mulder?"

     "What?"

     "Who is this woman you're friends with and are having amorous
feelings about?"

     "None of your damn business."  

     Mulder logged off.

End of Part Two



From: deirdre@x-philes.com (Deirdre)
Date: Fri, 13 Feb 1998 01:11:13 GMT
Subject: Moon Mad3.Agnew.atxc


Okay to archive as long as the story remains unaltered and my name is
still on the story.

Disclaimer:  See Part One

Spoilers:  None

Rating:  PG 

Classification:  UST, H

Summary:  See Part One.

Moon Mad (3/3)
by Denise A. Agnew
writer@agnewdt.demon.co.uk

FBI Headquarters
Basement
February 13
5:00pm

     "Anyway, Skeeter had calmed down by the time I got there," Scully
said as Mulder continued to stare at his computer screen.  "In fact, he
was the sweetest thing.  You should have seen him."

     "Maybe he was pining for you." 

     "That male heat thing again?"

     "I've got it," Mulder said, practically jumping out of his chair.

     Scully looked over the rim of her glasses at him.  She'd targeted
him with that bored gaze...that skeptical, prove-it-to-me stare a
thousand...no a million times.  "Whatever it is, don't pass it over
here."

     He swiveled his chair.  His hair was a tousled mess, his shirt
undone several buttons.  "The Lone Gunman reminded me that this is the
first time in two years there's been a full moon on Valentine's Day."

     "Almost Valentine's Day."

     "Whatever."

     "So what does that have to do with Skeeter missing me, and your
convoluted theory about people in the FBI acting strangely?"

     "It's the full moon," he said, as if she was as thick as a plank. 

     Growing exasperated, she sighed and tossed her pencil onto the
desk.  "Mulder, it has never been definitively proven that the phases of
the moon have anything to do with altering people's behavior."

     "What other explanation do I have?"

     "Go home, Mulder.  Skinner gave you a half day.  Make plans to go
to a movie, relax, enjoy yourself.  You're delirious."

     He stood up, came directly over to her chair, and leaned over to
put both hands on her chair.  She shrank back and stared at him as if
he'd grown three heads.  

     "What other explanation do YOU have for what's been happening?" he
asked.

     Her smile was minimal.  "Nothing is extraordinary is occurring
other than what you've concocted in your overtly stimulated
imagination."

     "But Skinner has a date with-" he stopped himself abruptly.  "Angie
is almost a man hater...except for me.  She likes me.  But now she's
fallen madly in love.  Then there's you and me...the way we..."

      When he didn't finish she was tempted to yell.  Instead held her
tone even, as if she might be negotiating with a psycho.  "People often
do different things on holidays than they would on a normal day.  They
buy cards.  Celebrate.  Go out on dates and have a good time with their
families."

     "You don't."

     "I am this year."

     She thought he might move away, but instead he leaned closer.  Was
it getting a little warm in here?

     "You've got a date, don't you?" he asked.

     She couldn't resist.  He was leaving himself wide open for the
kill.  "Yes.  How did you know?"

     "A little bird told me."

     "But I didn't tell any birds.  Little or otherwise.  Have you been
wiretapping my apartment?"

     His nostrils flared slightly, but he stood and backed away a step.
"No."

     "Then as Langley would say, Mulder...take a chill pill."

*   *   *

FBI Headquarters
Basement
5:00pm

     Scully picked up her briefcase and headed for the door.
"Goodnight, Mulder.  Have a nice weekend."

     "Wait," he said, coming from around his desk and leaning on it.
"I've got to know one thing before you leave.  I usually don't try and
butt into you personal life, right?"

     Her finely arched brows tilted up.  "That's right."

     "So you know that I only have your best interests at heart?"

     "Of course."

     He was silent for so long she began to wonder if he'd ever say
anything.  "Hurry up, Mulder.  My feet are growing to the floor."

     "Do you have a date with Skinner tomorrow night?"

     The hilarity hit her full force in the funny bone.  She burst out
laughing, almost dropping her briefcase in the process.  The idea was so
funny that she couldn't stop, and her laugh got louder and louder.  When
she chanced a glance at Mulder, she expected to see a formidable frown.
Instead he was having trouble not laughing himself. 

     "Mul...Mulder, that's crazy," she said, gasping for breath. "Where
on earth did you get that idea?" 

     Looking a tad sheepish, he said, "Skinner said he had a date this
weekend with someone petite and red-headed."

     "Is that all?" She closed her eyes and sighed.  Then she looked at
him.  "There are more than a few employees of the FBI around here who
are petite and have red hair."

     In retrospect it was one of the dumbest assumptions he could
remember having.  "You were the first person I thought of."

     An equally absurd notion emerged in her mind, and even attempting
to brush it aside didn't work.  It blared in her brain like a neon sign.
A bright red and pink bill board with a big pulsating heart and an arrow
right through the center.

     "Nice to know I'm at the forefront of your thoughts," she said
softly.  

     He didn't say anything, but that strange, intense gaze was
back...holding her in place and refusing to let her go.  "I'm sorry I
didn't get you a Valentine's Day card this year."

     She shrugged.  "You don't have to get me anything, Mulder."

     When he said nothing again, she turned to the door and opened
it...prepared to do as she did most evenings.  Return to an empty
apartment.  Well...this time she wouldn't be alone.  Skeeter would be
there.

     "Scully."

     She turned slowly. 

     His arms were crossed, but his expression was an open book...as
open as Mulder could ever be.  "You free for drinks tomorrow night?  I
make a mean Shirley Temple." 

     "Do you think Skeeter will be jealous?" she asked with a straight
face.

     "I would be," he said with an equally straight face.

     Smiling faintly, she turned toward the door again.  "See you
tomorrow night, Mulder."

THE END