AUTHORS NOTES: Deciding to post this story on because, well, is the oldest fanfiction website I've ever been antiquated with (Nearly TEN YEARS- damn I'm old.) Hopefully you all enjoy it.

1) Despite dating a wildlife biologist my knowledge on wolves is limited- I did all the research I could though and hopefully it shows. This is the part where I say that I am NOT a biologist, nor a werewolf, so I took liberties.

2) The rating is for future violence, sex, and language.

Chapter One

Charles Xavier was everything and nothing like Erik expected.

Sitting in the farthest row of the lecture, that was surprisingly full of students and professionals alike, he watched the small man at the podium talk for nearly an hour about the evidence of lycanthropy.
Everything the man said was direct. The fact that it would be a genetic disorder, and the historic evidence pointing to it already being present in the world. Much of the lecture revolved around the genetic possibility and then later on the biological effects such a "mutation" (as Xavier put it) would have on the human body.

The latter half of the lecture went a bit over Erik's head. He wasn't a scholar; he didn't have more than a high school education in biology, but from what his superiors had told him it was all a little too close to home. Which meant only one thing: either a fellow werewolf was feeding the secrets of their species to this outsider or the great professor Xavier had a pet he was experimenting on.

Neither was a good option, and it was Erik's job to get to the bottom of it.

The vast number of people in the audience was a concern. This was one of the main reasons why Erik had immediately booked a flight from Miami to New York to catch the lecture. People were listening to Xavier. Some people in the audience even stood up to applaud the man when he was done. Usually, any person who came to the public announcing "werewolves are among us" would be laughed off the stage, especially in an academic setting.

But from what Erik gathered Charles Xavier was different. He was a well respected scholar, with a PhD in Genetics and Wildlife Biology, and had opened his own wild life center on his family estate when he was only twenty-five. Xavier was the leading scholar in wolf preservation in the state of New York and on the East Coast. So, he was an activist, scholar, and genius. He would not be laughed off a stage easily, and when he spoke his words tended to get people to think. Which was why Xavier was well received by so many people. A great deal of the werewolf preservation society had admired him and what he did for the animals at the center. Then he made the announcement of his latest thesis, and the book that would shortly follow it.

Erik stayed in his seat while the auditorium filtered out. He watched as a line began to grow from people stopping to shake the professor's hand and share a few words with him. Of course the end of the lecture had been pitched with, "my book will be published and out within the month if you would like more information."

After the initial crowd had dispersed, Erik moved. He stepped down the stairs with quiet grace and settled into the line. There were two young girls in front of him, obviously students, giggling and clutching an assortment of books in their arms as they waited for their turn. When they did shake hands with Charles Xavier, just a few inches away from Erik, he overheard every high pitched comment they made.

"We loved the lecture, Professor," the black haired girl out of the pair said, almost sighing the words in one breath.

"Did you? Hope it wasn't so boring?" came an amused reply, the same smooth English accent Erik had listened to for nearly an hour.

"Oh, it wasn't boring at all. We're fascinated with the idea that werewolves exist. Tell us, do you know any?" the second girl, a blond, peeped up. The hope in her voice could not have been hidden even if she'd tried.

The question got another laugh, nothing mocking as Xavier answered, "I can't reveal that, girls," followed immediately by sighs of disappointment. "But I can say that the science speaks for itself." Erik perked up at the statement, eyes narrowed on the meeting in front of him.

"Such a tease, Professor." the black haired girl noted.

"I'm glad your enjoyed your time. I'll see you girls in class on Friday, I assume."

There was a synchronized chorus of "Yes" and then the two small bodies bumped out of line, their heads held low to hide the smiles of accomplishment that adorned their young faces.

Erik tried not to have his eyes follow the two girls as they departed. Instead, he stepped forward, stuck out his hand in greeting, and took in the man in front of him. His target, he reminded himself. "Dr. Charles Xavier, it's a pleasure."

Finally, he got a good look at the man in front of him. Up close, the professor was much smaller. He stood below Erik by at least a head, but his hair looked longer, flowing in front of his wide baby blue eyes in an almost messy way. When the professor's hand came up to swipe the hair out of his face, Erik could see how it suddenly became so messy. Then the hand came down and clapped his in a warm, friendly way. A charming smile showed perfectly white teeth. "The pleasure is all mine."

"Erik Lehnsehrr," he introduced smoothly.

Charles' smile stayed in place as he asked, "What can I do for you, Mr. Lehnsehrr?"

The lie came out easier than Erik could imagine, but then again it was well versed. "I work for the National Wildlife Journal, and we'd like to do an article on your work for an up coming issue. Would you mind a meeting after this?" he gestured to the people remaining in the room.

Steady blue eyes took him in, considering, and a smile tugged at the ends of Xavier's mouth, which he hid well under the guise of nervously licking his lips. For a moment, Erik wasn't sure what the man would say, until a small brunette woman came up from behind the professor and welcomed Erik with a brief once-over.

"Hello there," she said tightly, trying not to seem tense, and maybe to a human she would pass, but Erik could smell the anxiety coming off her in waves. He noticed her body brush close against Charles, not intimately, but protectively. He raised a brow at the movement and the emotion coming from the woman. "Moira MacTaggert," she said with a nod to Erik, and he nodded.

He knew of her, of course. One couldn't do research on the Westchester Reservation and Charles Xavier without MacTaggert's name appearing. She was his partner and fellow Wildlife Activist. Moira MacTaggert had done work in the Northern Rockies with the wolf packs up there, had even worked alongside some fellow werewolves without knowing it, before signing on to work at Westchester by request of Charles Xavier. The two apparently knew each other well.

"Moira," Charles greeted her with an easy smile, "This is Erik Lehnsherr with the Wildlife Journal. Apparently they'd like a word."

Moira nodded, her body relaxing the slightest bit, but still too stiff. "I see. Well, Mr. Lehnsherr, I can discuss a good time with you while the Professor finishes up with these people."

"Of course." Erik's smile grew tight, but he followed Moira to the corner of the lecture hall, away from the rest of the bystanders. He could hear Charles' light and well recited greeting to the person who had stood behind him, before Moira turned her attention back to him.

Her body sagged as she sighed and pulled out her phone. After jabbing her fingers at the screen for a moment, she turned an apologetic look his way. "I'm sorry about that. If I came off a little..." She let her voice trail off and Erik nodded in understanding before she graced him with a small, but pretty, smile and turned back to her phone.

"It's just been a little crazy since Charles decided to publish this whole thing. We've gotten some real weirdos coming up to him, claiming to know werewolves or being werewolves..."

Erik tilted his head, ears perked, "Really?"

"Yeah," Moira scoffed the slightest bit, "Real weirdos. Just can't be too careful. Can I see your business card or... something so I know... you know."

"Of course." He pulled out his wallet and the fake business card that his pack master had acquired for him, along with his real driver's license.

Moira glanced at them and nodded. "Great. Sorry about all that, I've been telling him we need a bodyguard or something, but does Charles listen? Nooo."

"How long have these weirdos been trying to contact Dr. Xavier?" Erik tried to keep his voice light and inquiring, but if other weres were already trying to get to the professor that would throw a wrench in his mission. He needed to find out who the mole was, then deal with that individual and the nutty professor personally. The Hellfire Pack would have it no other way.

Moira gasped and closed her eyes as she cursed, "Shit. I'm so stupid, you can't use that for your article Mr. Lehnsherr, understand? We have lawyers and..."

"Don't worry, Ms. MacTaggert, I was only asking. Our journal is strictly scientific - there's no gossip in any of its pages." She seemed to relax at that, but not enough to answer the earlier question.

Instead she said, "Charles is free tonight and tomorrow evening. I'll let him answer any and all questions you ask him. It is his career."

"Are you his publicist as well as colleague, Ms. MacTaggert?" Erik asked, his eyes trailing back to the brief original focus of their discussion.

The woman next to him laughed, "I guess you could say that, Mr. Lehnsherr. Someone has to keep that man in line."

XXX

Being the last person in line, Professor McMurphy apparently thought he had all the time in the world to discuss the lecture. The man was from the psychology department and had done some research on the neurological symptoms of Lycanthropy. Charles had briefly discussed his thesis and topic with the man before, and had even used McMurphy as a resource for his book. And while he enjoyed a good hearty debate as much as the next man, he wanted to see how Moira was faring with the handsome journalist that he had briefly spoken to.

Charles Xavier could appreciate when a person was naturally handsome, and Erik Lehnsherr was naturally (or unnaturally) handsome. Strong prominent jaw, enticing blue-grey eyes, and a accent that was a mix Charles couldn't put his finger on.

"I still stand by my earlier statement, Xavier, that many of the 'werewolves' you talk about are merely deranged and delusional people," McMurphy concluded after a long-winded explanation that Charles turned back to just in time.

"Genetics and biology don't lie, Dr. McMurphy. These people are not dreaming up the differences in their blood work or DNA," he replied breezily, deciding that it was time to end the conversation. "And I would love to continue this conversation with you at a later time. But right now, I have an appointment I have to attend." He caught the other man's hand in his own in a farewell shake before McMurphy could sputter another word.

"Right, well you know where to find me, Charles."

"That I do." He waved the older man off with a smile before finally turning to where Moira had walked off and found his friend standing in the corner... alone. She smiled at him as he approached and he raised an elegant brow in question as he asked, "He a deranged werewolf wannabe like the others, then? You hadto chase him off?"

"No, he really was a journalist," Moira answered with a sly smile, "and you have an interview with him tomorrow evening. I told him you'd meet him at the cafe downtown, your favorite, and he said his company will pay."

"Oh, well, in that case why didn't you point him to my favorite restaurant?" Charles suggested with a smile and laughed as Moira playfully smacked his cardigan covered chest. He looked around the now empty hall and bounced on the heels of his feet in excitement, his smile becoming bigger. "That was a success."

"Charles, after last week, any public appearance without someone crazy blowing into it is a success." Moira sighed as she pocketed her phone and wrapped her arm in the empty space between his elbow and side. They started towards the exit, Charles grabbing his briefcase as they left.

"Really, Moira, I think you are overreacting about that. The man was clearly delusional," he responded, keeping blue eyes forward as they walked.

"Delusional, yes. Enough so that the man wrote you five letters of nonsensical prattling and then appears on the reserve at night naked!"

"But harmless," Charles interjected before Moira continued.

"And here I am, with a man who believed him for two hours before being informed that the man was in fact staying in a mental institute, and then was disappointed."

"Moira..." he started again, because they had had this conversation before and he knew where it was going. His warning was heard as Moira sighed and tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder with the slightest of huffs.

"I'm just saying, Charles, you're too trusting, and when you talk about things like werewolves there are some real..." she struggled for a moment to find the right word, "strange people involved when it comes to that type of thing. I know, I know, it's all science for you, but I worry."

"And I appreciate it," he turned his head and kissed her on the cheek as they came to the car and separated, "but I know what I am getting myself into, love. Have a little faith in me."

She gave him a look Charles was left to interpret another time as he pulled himself into the driver's seat and turned on the ignition. "Now we really should get home. I don't quite trust Sean there alone yet, and I'm sure Raven misses me."