Back at Ed's. He looks out the window at the rain and tells Scully that he thinks she had better stay. You know. For her own good. "The weather and a few drinks under your belt," he says. "I'd feel better if you stayed here." I just bet you would. Scully smiles at her shoes. "I'm not up to anything," Ed promises. "I just want you to be safe. I'll take the couch." Scully smiles up at him. Ed waits a beat before asking if her tattoo hurts. She shakes her head. "Yeah, um, it feels weird," she says. "I, uh, I can't see it and...I feel different...and, um, I don't know how I feel about that," Scully finishes. Ed walks over. They look at each other. He walks around and pulls up the back of her shirt, taking off the bandage. "It looks all right," he tells her. Scully turns around to face him and notices blood on his cuff. "Ed, you're bleeding again." She wants to take a look at it. "I am a doctor," Scully says, and starts ripping off his clothes. "They said this could happen," he offers weakly. What? That your crazy talking tattoo would bleed and a sexually repressed doctor/scientist/FBI agent would rip off your shirt under the guise of tending to your wounds? That's one hell of a tattoo. So, Scully takes off all his clothes. Well, most of them. "Ed, it looks burned," Scully says, holding his arm gently. "Get her hands off of me!" Jodie growls. Ed grabs Scully's hands, moving them roughly away. Scully gasps and looks up at him. They stare at each other. "Those are bad thoughts you're having, baby," Jodie warns Ed. "Kiss her, and she's dead." So Ed kisses Scully. The camera pulls back. Ed slams the door shut. And we retreat into the darkness and down the hall.