Going to sleep was a bit tricky. Mulder wasn't happy with sleeping on the couch in the living room. He whined and scratched on Scully's bedroom door, until she had to let him in.

"All right, Mulder," she yawned. "But you sleep on the floor!"

Mulder was already on her bed, tilting his head adorably, as if he couldn't comprehend how she could possibly want him down.

"Come on, boy," Scully insisted, throwing one pillow on the floor. "You didn't sleep on the bed when you were human, so why start now?"

"Woof!" Mulder responded. He obediently jumped from the bed and tried to make himself comfortable on a pillow that was way too small for him.

Scully chuckled. "If that doesn't work for you, you can always go back to the couch. I'll leave the door open."

"Woof!" Mulder repeated. He placed his front legs on the pillow and lowered his head on them, intensely watching Scully's every move. She stroked him once, then went to bed, reluctant to turn the light off. They just stared at each other for a while.

"Goodnight, Mulder," Scully finally said. "I… No matter your shape, it's nice to have you here. I just hope I'll have your old self back soon. God, how on Earth will I explain your absence to Skinner?"

"Woof," Mulder suggested. It made just about as much sense as their conversations usually do. Scully smiled fondly and turned off the light. She thought she would never be able to sleep, but her exhaustion took over quickly and she slept deeply and peacefully, guarded by her loyal partner.

She was awaked too soon, though, by the same partner's tongue all over her face.

"Mulder," she murmured. "What's the time?"

"Woof!" Mulder answered, which didn't tell her much. She didn't expect an accurate answer, anyway, since it never happened with him. It was always: "Scully, the evidence is gone!", "Scully, I need you on the next plane to Nowhere!", "Scully, I hate bugs!" or "Scully, I'm covered with blood and it isn't mine."

She checked the clock, it was barely past five. Seeing her starting to get up, Mulder run away and returned before her feet reached the floor, holding the leash.

"All right, I get the message," Scully yawned. "Let me just take a quick shower first."

Mulder was still holding the leash when she came out of the bathroom and she kicked him out of the bedroom to get dressed in private. He whined, acting offended, but this time it didn't help him.

"All right," Scully stroked him when she finally made herself presentable. "Let's go for a walk, then we will stop by your place to feed the fish."

She was always too slow for Mulder, but now he was pulling her so strongly that she had to run after him. She was relieved when he stopped to pee for the first time, but after sixth time she was getting annoyed. He was taking this dog-life way too seriously.

When they reached the park, Scully unleashed him, begging him to behave. Luckily, he didn't seem to have any desire to leave her. He didn't bother other dogs and he was friendly to people. It was a lovely walk and Scully didn't even mind picking up after him. It has always been part of her job, in a way.

"Nice dog," a random man approached Scully.

"Thank you," she smiled politely, while Mulder eyed him suspiciously.

"How old is he?" the man asked.

"Um…" Scully tried to quickly calculate Mulder's age in dog years. "He's about six."

"Best years," man said stupidly. Mulder started to growl at him.

"Hey buddy," random man reached to him. "It's ok, dogs love me!"

Not this dog. This dog grabbed his hand and bit hard, not letting go. The man screamed and Scully barely managed to set him free.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she scolded Mulder, while taking him out of the park. He whined miserably and walked with his tail between his legs. Even when he was taller than her, Scully could easily intimidate him, so looking at her angry face from below was a truly scary experience.

"I wasn't in any danger, he was just trying to be nice," Scully continued, but suddenly stopped, turning to Mulder. "Don't tell me you were jealous!"

Mulder didn't even hear her. He was already running after a squirrel.

"Mulder, come back here!" Scully yelled after him, but he ignored her and kept running. She had no choice but to run after him. Luckily, he didn't go far, or maybe it wasn't so lucky, since she found him with his nose buried in an impressive pile of poo.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she pulled him away, attaching the leash to his collar. Mulder licked his muzzle happily, unamused with her nagging.

"You are NOT a real dog," Scully insisted. "Stop acting like one!"

A passing-by jogger gave her a very suspicious look, but went on running. Smart move, because Scully was already contemplating pulling her gun on him. Or on Mulder. Or herself. She urgently needed a bad guy (preferably a monster) to vent some of her frustration on. All Mulder needed, on the other hand, was to sniff another tree and leave his mark over some other dog's pee.