Classification: TRHA

Rating: PG

Summary: Not everybody's as happy with Langly and Allison as they are with each other...

Spoilers: "Unusual Suspects" in a small way

Disclaimer: Okay, let's sing the chorus again! Not mine. Property of Fox Television and 1013 Productions.

"Nothing's so cold
As closing the heart when all we need
Is to free the soul
but we wouldn't be that brave I know
And the air outside so soft confessing everything...
All I want is to feel this way
To be this close, to feel the same
All I want is to feel this way
The evening speaks, I feel it say..."

"All I Want" by Glen Phillips and Toad the Wet Sprocket/Copyright 1991 Sony
Music Entertainment/Used without permission.

Antechomai

Langly was silent, finishing off the Carta Blanca in one final gulp. I watched the confusing array of emotions cross his face: anger, fear, sadness.

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore."

"That's cool. You don't have to." I slipped his long, graceful fingers in my own miniaturized ones. He didn't respond for a while. After a time, he laid down on the bed next to me and curled up on his side.

"I'm gonna get some sleep and then I'm gonna head back. Mulder wants us to go digging in the dirt on these people he's thinking about hiring." He flicked a thumb over towards my computer setup. "I've gotta get some security on this thing so I can work over here. Frohike and Byers are ready to have my ass, something about not doing my part, although on any day of the week I can do more than the two of them put together. With one hand tied behind my back."

"Is Frohike still on your case?"

"Frohike needs some serious attitude adjustment," he said, a little more sharply than made me comfortable.

"Want me to talk to him?"

"Nah. Maybe. I don't know. Fuck. I mean, it's not like he's not my friend or anything, but he's such a prick about you and me. Like I'm not supposed to be happy or something."

"From the sound of things, life hasn't exactly been exploding with happiness for you."

"No, it hasn't. I mean, it's not the suckiest life somebody could have. But it's been pretty light in the joy zone most of the time. I mean, finally I find somebody, something that makes me feel happy, like maybe I'm a little bit safe, somebody I can feel good with, and he just makes me feel like shit."

"Sounds like he's had a lot of anguish in his life as well."

"Yeah, he has, but is that my fault? Jesus."

"Nobody's saying it's your fault. That's why I'm thinking maybe I oughta talk to him. I love him dearly, the little troll, and it's not going to help things if you guys are ready to slit each other's throats."

"Maybe. Your call."

"You said Frohike was married once."

"Yeah. He's got two kids lurking out there somewhere. He never sees 'em. I think his ex pretty well poisoned their brains against him." He got off the bed. "I need another beer. How's the head holding up?"

"If I don't move too much, it's not too bad."

"So stay still. Be right back." He returned momentarily.

"Kids are finally asleep. I tried to turn off the TV, though, and Miranda just about bit me in the ass. So I turned it back on and she's back asleep."

"That would be Miranda," I assured him.

He popped the top of his third Carta Blanca. "Y'know, I get really pissed off thinking about this." He pulled my little grey inhaler from his pocket and fingered it. "It's like, misery, it's such a huge industry. Everybody's got a stake in keeping us miserable."

"Langly, misery has been the human condition since time began."

"Maybe. But you have to admit, it's like everybody in power profits from our shitty lives. Look at what shrinks make.   Consider that Prozac is the most prescribed drug in this country. Starbucks makes a fortune because the whole world is so fucking sleep-deprived that we can't get by without a major caffeine fix."

"You forgot to include chocolate manufacturers," I joked.

"Yeah, well, throw them in for good measure. Cigarette makers add nicotine so the product's even more addictive, so you'll spend more money." He glared at the label of the bottle he was drinking from. "I mean, look at us. We use alcohol constantly. Why?"

"Because we like it?"

"You like it. And you like it a lot, Ally. Sometimes I worry."

"Langly, it's not like I spend my days walking around drunk."

"No, you don't. But face it, Ally. You have something shitty happen to you, first thing you do is crawl into a bottle."

"Hey, I do manage to get done what needs to get done, you know."

"Yeah, you do. And you do a good job. And you're smart and funny and sensible and you're totally grounded, but the way you deal with bad news is making a visit to Jose."

"And you don't? I notice that you're the one sucking down all the Carta Blancas."

"That's because you got socked with a migraine. Else you'd be joining me. Admit it."

"Yeah, I would. So?"

"Ally, you said that your mom and dad were both alcoholics."

"Yes, they were."

"Well, my dad was too. And it sucked. Your life may have been okay, although I think a lot of it's just that you accept stuff, Ally. You just put up with things. I mean, that's cool, seems to keep you sane. But sometimes for me, I look in the mirror and I see my dad happening all over again. And it scares the hell out of me." He looked up at me, hard. "And he's the last person I want to end up like."

"And how did he end up?"

"I think dead pretty well covers it."

"Hey, mine ended up dead, too. I think the question I was asking was how he got there."

That dreadful mix of hurt, fear and anger passed over the pale blue eyes again. "Not now. I really don't wanna go into it." He brushed my hand with his. "You gonna live?"

"Oh, yeah. I get these things sometimes. This was the worst one I've had in a long while, though. Speaking of which, what do you need my Sumatrin for?"

"I'm gonna give it to Byers. He knows somebody who can analyze it."

"You really think this is contaminated."

"Yeah, I do. We've been following this kind of stuff since Suzanne Modeski made us see the light."

"Well, then, you'd better check with Mulder. He gets these headaches as well. I don't know if he's got a scrip for this stuff, but if he does..."

"Yeah, I'll ask him." I blinked over at the window; I could see streaks of pale grey instead of black coming through. "Langly, what the hell time is it?"

"5:30."

"I don't know about you, but I need to get some sleep. You coming to bed?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

***

I probably would have slept the day away had the phone not rung. I blinked at the alarm clock. 10:45. All was quiet on the downstairs front, and Langly was sprawled about the bed, face peaceful, limbs everywhere.

I managed to grab the phone on the first ring. "Hello?" I whispered into
the phone.

"Good morning, Allison." It was Frohike on the other end of the line. I staggered out of bed and took the cordless phone into the bathroom so as not to disturb Langly.

"Hi, Frohike. You did turn the tape off, I hope."

"For you dear, always," he lied. "Did I wake you up?"

"Well, I had a pretty bad night. Got a migraine last night."

"I hope that loverboy there was at least marginally helpful."

"Yes, he was. Frohike, can I ask you something?"

"So long as I reserve the right not to answer it, ask away, my dear."

"Frohike, why are you so pissed off at Langly?"

Long pause. And I knew the tape had been running, because I heard it click off just then.

"What makes you think I'm angry with him?"

"He says you've been on his case about being at my house so much."

"Well, he's not getting things done, and this is a group effort."

"He says he's going to secure my system here so that he can work from my house when he's here."

"That would be helpful." The tone, however, was sarcastic.

"Frohike, you've been a really good friend to me. And to Miranda. And Langly, well, he feels like, I don't really know how to say this..."

"He thinks I'm jealous of you two."

"Yes."

"And he's right."

"I'm sorry, Frohike. We're not doing this to make you feel bad. He's just...we both are trying to grab some happiness in a world that seems sometimes determined to withhold it from us. I mean all of us. Please? Just try to hold that thought. We both care about you, guy. And I really hope some good things that make you happy come in your life soon. I mean that."

Silence. Long silence.

"Could you do me a favor, dear?"

"Sure."

"Tell him when he wakes up to get his sorry ass back here. We've got work to do." In spite of the words, the tone was gentle, almost paternal.

***

July 14, 1999

It was nearly two in the afternoon when Langly decided to join the living. My headache had been reduced to a very dull throb, and I was back to reading Latin, although in the name of maintaining sanity, I had switched from Caesar to Catullus. Miranda and Sarah had gotten up at noon and were in Miranda's room, doing makeup tricks.

"Morning," he mumbled as he padded into the kitchen.

"Not even close."

"Any coffee left?"

"You've got to be kidding. I've been awake for three hours. I'll put on some more."

"Thanks." He rubbed his eyes. "Got any cereal?"

"Frosted Flakes are all gone, but we've still got Froot Loops and Cocoa Krispies."

"I'll go with the Cocoa Krispies." I pulled the box from the pantry and got the milk from the fridge. I leaned over and kissed the top of the very tousled blonde head. He leaned his head into me. "So how're you feeling?"

"Better. Not much headache left. I'll probably take a nap in a while, though." I sat down across from him. "I've got a message from Frohike for you."

"Yeah?" The blue eyes, already half-closed, became narrow slits.

"He said that when you woke up to get your sorry ass over there because you've got work to do."

"I could've guessed that one."

"Yeah, but he said it nicely. And I would like to point out that he said 'when you wake up.'"

"Yeah, normally he tells you to wake me up right then and there."

"Cut him a little slack, Langly. I think it's hard for him."

I poured him some coffee and he munched on some cereal. "You going anywhere today?"

I shook my head. "Hadn't planned on it. Why?"

"Mind if I use the Sentra?"

I was mildly surprised; he'd never asked to take the car on his own before..

Over on the bookcase were a spare set of keys. I had given him a house key. Now I passed him the key to the Sentra.

"Your own copy."

"For real?"

"Yeah. You know what this means, don't you?"

He looked momentarily uneasy. "I'm not sure."

"It means you'd better pray that I don't lock my keys in the car, because you have the only spare."

***

I quickly figured out why Langly wanted to borrow the car, and it had nothing to do with wanting to hurry back to the office, and everything to do with a trip to various computer stores and electronics suppliers. I was crashed on the sofa when he started hauling boxes of this and that into the townhouse...and Byers and Frohike were trailing along.

"We figured you'd prefer not to have your house burned down," Frohike explained.

"Hey, that only happened once!" Langly protested.

"It'll go faster if we all do it," Byers explained. "I hope we're not imposing."

"God no, come in, you've not been here in a while."

"Do you mind if I take a beer, Allison?" Frohike asked as he opened the fridge.

"If Langly left any, you're welcome to them."

"Carta Blancas. Very nice. Three left." Frohike handed one to Byers, one to me, and popped one for himself.

"Hey, what about me?" demanded Langly.

"Apparently you had your share last night. And then some," Frohike responded drily.

"C'mon Langly, I'll share," I offered. He grabbed my beer and took a long swig.

"You're far too kind to him," Byers shook his head and smiled slightly.

"I am, aren't I?" I smiled and winked at Langly. He stuck his tongue out at me.

"Don't show it off unless you're prepared to demonstrate," I warned.

"I'm not in the mood to give these guys lessons right now," Langly leered at me.

Miranda and Sarah came down the stairs. "Jesus, Langly, you moving in or what?"

"It's computer equipment," Byers explained calmly to her.

Miranda shook her head. "He's moving in. I knew it." She and Sarah moved out to the patio with the dog in tow.

The three of them moved up into our room (oh Jesus, when did I start thinking of it as our room?) and went to work. As is always the case when working with electronics, the air became quite blue in a fairly short period of time. I ignored them completely and cooked dinner.

***

"Thank you for the meal, my dear. Delicious as always." Frohike is the world's best dinner guest.

"Very good. Thank you for the hospitality." Byers also never forgot his good manners. They retreated to the upstairs to continue working. Langly hung back for a moment.

"What's up, dude?"

"This." He grabbed me and we kissed.

I smiled at him. "Now that was delicious."

He smiled back, eyes dancing like a little kid's. "Know what would be even more delicious?"

"And what would that be?"

"Ice cream."

I was momentarily taken aback. "Ice cream."

"Yeah. Cookies and cream. You wouldn't mind making a run, would you?"

"What's my compensation?"

"After I send these bozos back, I'll figure it out."

***

What had once been my bedroom now looked as if it was the main control room of a pod person. Whereas you could once get into the bed from either side, it was now pushed into the wall, meaning that one person was on the outside and one was against the wall. I would have to remind Langly, and in short order, that I called dibs on the outside.

"Now perhaps we'll get some work out of you," Frohike reminded him, albeit very gently.

"Well, let's see what it can do," Byers, ever cautious, decided that there was no time like the present for a test drive. "Let's start with some of these people that Mulder wants us to check up on."

"Cool." Langly took the mouse in hand and started to travel about the system. Byers and Frohike monitored for nuances that would have totally eluded me, but were apparently easily detected by them, in terms of systems irregularities. I smiled to myself. Having been married to Eric for many years, I remembered how many times I would be in a room with him and his
friends, watching the testosterone levels rise to dizzying new heights. It always made me laugh, and tonight was no exception.

Beer supplies had long ago been replenished, and we were all savoring a Dos Equis upon completion of the project. (What can I say? I like Mexican beer).

Langly and Frohike became immersed in the research at hand, but Byers hung back a bit after ascertaining that the new system was free of problems. I went back downstairs to check on Miranda, who had fallen asleep on the sofa, and he followed me.

"It was really nice of you to set Langly up like this."

"It was no problem at all," he assured me politely. "Thank you for your hospitality. I never seem to leave your home hungry. And I know that Frohike and I both hassle Langly a lot about being away from the office so much, but the fact is, I'm happy for him. For both of you," he added softly.

"Thank you, Byers."

"John."

"For some reason, I thought your name was Jeffrey."

"No, it's possible you misheard in all the commotion when you first met me. It's John Fitzgerald Byers. I was born on the day Kennedy was assassinated, hence my name."

"Wow. That's bizarre."

"I consider it fortunate. My parents were ready to name me Bertram."

"And you're way cooler than the Kennedy version," I grinned at him.

He blushed--the curse of the redhead. But he smiled, too.

"After Eric died, I just figured I was lucky to have had that kind of happiness once, and just be glad that I'd had it for as long as I did. But this is like being twice blessed, By--John. I don't think I ever did anything to deserve it, but I am grateful that the fates or God or whomever or whatever has chosen to smile upon us. I don't even know how to begin to describe what's happened to me in this past year."

"Your husband must have been a very good man," Byers said gently.

"He was a very good man. And I loved him with all my heart. But then Langly moved in on my life, and it's like--like I've traveled light years from where I was. Sometimes I remember my life as it was, the way it felt and tasted and smelled, and then at other times, it's as if it was so long ago."

"I can empathize," he said gently.

"Were you in love with somebody?"

"Very much. Very very much."

"What was her name?"

"Suzanne."

I raised my eyebrows a bit. "Are you speaking of Suzanne Modeski?"

"I am."

"You don't seem surprised that I know."

 "I watch you and Langly. You act like lovers, and I have to believe you talk like them. In which case, it was bound to come up sooner or later."

"Langly didn't mention anything about your being in love with her."

He smiled. "We're guys, remember? We've been known to gloss over the important stuff." I laughed.

"I know that Suzanne was the catalyst for the three of you starting TBM."

"But Langly probably didn't bother to mention that she was my wife."

I was truly surprised, but after a fashion, I wasn't. "Langly is such a guy."

"That he is," Byers concurred. "She was kidnapped shortly after we met her, and she then disappeared for about three months. She showed up at our offices in Baltimore after her release."

"How was she?"

"Not in good shape. She had always been very thin, but she looked anorexic at that point. But that didn't matter to me. When I saw her again, I knew how much I loved her. And I asked her to marry me."

"And she accepted."

"Yes. We were married two weeks later. A very small wedding. Frohike and Langly were our attendants."

"I'm not going to ask if any of them wore a dress. I'm afraid of what the answer would be."

That got a laugh out of him. "No, but they cleaned up reasonably well for the event. We celebrated at a small trattoria in Baltimore afterwards. You know we were all originally in the Baltimore area at the time that all this transpired, and we started TBM there."

"Are you a native?"

"No. My family is from New York."

"Where in New York?"

"Scarsdale."

Ah ha. The east coast equivalent of Marin County. That translated out to parents who were not poor.

"How did you end up in Baltimore? I was always told it's a city you move away from, not move to."

He smiled at that. "I was working on my PhD."

"And you were working for the FCC."

"I was getting my PhD in public policy, and the FCC at the time seemed a good place to get my career going."

"And then you met these two jokers."

"And nothing has been the same since." A smile, and a look of impenetrable sadness, both in the same breath.

"Well, it got your career going all right," I chuckled. "Just perhaps not in the direction you were anticipating."

"Nothing has been what I would have anticipated. Like you, I did pretty much what I was supposed to do for all of my life. I have to admit I'm not always comfortable with what I do. I was bred to be, well, part of the so-called establishment norm. But I've seen too much now. I can't go back to what I was."

"Regrets?"

"Definitely."

"Speaking of where it all began," I added, twisting my fingers, "did Langly give you a grey inhaler of mine?"

END OF PART 14