Oblate - Part 2

OBLATE--Part 2

Numquam Minus Solus, Quam Cum Solis

"I started drifting to a different place
I realized I was falling off the face of the world
And there was nothing left to bring me back
I'm a million miles away..."

November 21, 1998

I settled Miranda in with her 5000 cable-satellite-God only knows what-channels after I'd lain down with her for a while. Ever since Eric's death, she had fallen back into some of her childhood patterns, one of which was that I would lie down in her bed until she fell asleep. I figured this was not the time to argue with tradition.

I was astonished that anything could be found in anywhere other than in Byers's digs, but Frohike had come up with a pack of regulation bridge-size playing cards and a score pad. As Mulder had apparently failed in his mission to provide beer, Langly was sent out to procure it, grumbling all the way. I offered to accompany him, but Byers and I set about creating some space on the kitchen table.

I dealt. Frohike, for being such a weird little gnome, was quite courtly, and insisted that ladies go first. My hand sucked. Byers opened the bidding.

"I thought your mom was a champion at this game." I was partnered with Langly, and due to a combination of my lame cards and poor playing skills, we were getting reamed.

"My mother is a champion. I just happen to be her daughter. But you knew that already. God, what else do you know about me?"

"Well, you're a Leo," Langly actually smiled at that one.

"What's my birthday?"

"August 8, 1955."

"Where was I born?"

"San Rafael, California. You moved to Mill Valley when you were seven. Your daddy was the electronics magnate Morris Rausch, founder of Magnabyte--good stuff, he made, by the way..." Langly was having fun with this. "You went to UC Santa Cruz and majored in biology...wanted to go to veterinary school but with only a 3.25 average, no go..."

"Okay, enough! Jesus! Guys," I set my head on the table, "I'm really uncomfortable about this. It's like you know all about me, and I know zip about you. The balance of power is a bit lopsided here, don't you think? I mean, it's not like I have any deep dark secrets. But I like the idea that I'm entitled to a little privacy and what's been going on lately is making me feel very...naked." I raised my head and set my eyes dead on Langly. "I'm starting to feel like I'm being...watched." I took a long sip of my beer. At least Langly had the decency not to buy Budweiser. I spoke more softly this time. "I'm not in good shape here, folks. It's been just about four weeks since I lost my husband. Most of the time I feel like I died myself, and it's just a matter of time before I wake up and find I'm really in the ground. I have a daughter whose life has been ripped to shreds. My
animals were still looking all over the house for Eric until they were flown out here. Now they're really going to be confused. I'm in a strange city, the weather sucks, and I'm totally losing this game." Another chug of beer. "Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole. I really do appreciate your letting Miranda and me stay here. But everything is so--"

"Unreal?" Langly was looking a lot more sympathetic by this time.

"Yeah. Unreal. On October 29, I was thrown down the rabbit hole, and I'm doing a shit job of being Alice."

Silence.

Byers then spoke up. "How about another hand?"

****

I was paired with Byers this time, who actually knew the game, so I was having better luck.

"So...not to be nosy, but how do you and my boss and her partner come to all know one another? I mean, you guys don't seem like g-men." That earned a good round of laughter.

Frohike spoke first. "Well, it's a long story, and complicated..."

"Goes back about five years or so," Byers added in. "I was manning a booth at this lame electronics fair, when I was accosted by this woman..."

"She was very hot," Frohike added with a slight leer.

"She claimed she was looking for her kidnapped daughter, and asked me to help her. It went downhill from there..." Byers smiled slightly.

"Mulder--and by the way, don't call him anything else, he hates it--was out looking for this woman, FBI business. She was thought to be unstable and subversive and she claimed to be in possession of material that the government did not want released--you don't mind if we don't give all the gory details here--and Byers here needed some expert assistance..."

"So Frohike brings him to me," Langly added with a smug grin. "Claimed it was going to be the hack of the century. Ha!"

"Well, some of us don't consider crime a hobby," Frohike retorted.

(Oh, God, who were these people? Why was I here? And what the hell time was it?)

"So we helped her out, and Mulder gets involved in this, since this is his search, his baby. He's supposed to bring this woman in. Only thing is, there's something wrong with this picture..."

"She was trying to expose a secret government plot," Langly threw in.

"A what? Get real," I needed more beer, and wandered to the fridge to help myself. "This is the government that sends social security checks to dead people for years on end and keeps the tobacco lobby alive and well. Speaking of which, I need to step outside, I'm really jonesing for a cigarette."

"Langly, where are your manners? Get the lady an ashtray!" Frohike scolded.

"Don't have one," Langly muttered back.

"You may smoke, my dear, but you'll have to use an empty."

"Thanks. I seem to be smoking more than usual lately."

"Not surprising in view of the current conditions. Your husband's accident. Did you identify him?"

I dropped my cards.

"Wait a minute, you guys were telling me a story."

"Allison, we don't mean you harm. But sometimes...things are not what they seem to be."

"Well, isn't that the truth?" I gulped. "Yeah, I did identify him. It was him. Believe me, I would know Eric. There's not a lot I can count on, but that I can." The tears started creeping in again. I took a slug of beer, because you can't drink and cry in the same breath. What the hell was going on? Every time I tried to find out something about these people, they managed to switch the subject.

"Okay, so you met Mulder at this gig. You work together, right?"

"Well, we offer him...support."

"And that's how you met Dr. Scully."

"Ah, the lovely Dana Scully." Now we were on a subject that Frohike clearly enjoyed. "She was sent to spy on Mulder."

"Spy on him. You know, I've only seen this much paranoia on TV."

"You don't know the half of it," Langly chided.

"She was supposed to discredit his research into the, shall we say, paranormal phenomena he had been investigating. He was becoming a nuisance--"

"Becoming? The man invented nuisance," Langly was gruff.

"It was claimed he had really gone off the deep end, circled the drain and gone down."

This was odd. The Mulder I had observed had been courteous to Miranda and me and obviously caring toward his partner. He certainly hadn't presented himself as a wacko. Hey, hard to condemn a man who buys you dinner when he doesn't even know you.

"Claims his little sister was abducted by aliens when he was twelve," Byers stated in such a way that allegations such as this were made every day of the week and in mixed company.

I gnawed on this for a moment. How much beer had I had, anyway?

"Yes, the lovely Dana Scully was supposed to finish off Fox Mulder professionally. But a funny thing happened on the way to the forum." Frohike smiled now.

"It was felt that with Dr. Scully's scientific background, which I am certain you have been introduced to by now, would once and for all discredit and debunk the work Mulder had been engaged in. Not that I seriously blame anybody for wanting Mulder off their backs--he's a pain in the butt, to put it mildly, but Dr. Scully ended up being the ultimate ally. She ended up
giving him credibility."

"Fortunately, she makes him work for it," Langly added. That earned a laugh.

"Not the only thing I hope she makes him work for," Frohike grumbled.

"Maybe she makes him beg," Langly liked this idea.

"God, I hope so," Frohike seemed to take comfort in this idea. Actually, while I didn't know the man, the notion of this tall, seemingly composed guy begging the short redhead for candy was pretty funny.

"Frohike, quit whining, he did give you the video collection," Langly admonished.

"What video collection?"

Byers rolled his eyes. "Let's just say that while crime may be Langly's hobby, Frohike is more inclined towards the...pleasures of the flesh." He looked at me for a moment, looking oddly and sincerely penitent.

"Well, hey, you are a nice Jewish girl, aren't you?" Langly seemed to take malicious delight in taking things that were factual about me and turning them into pressure points. "Nice Jewish girls I hear don't deal in that stuff."

"How would you know? Ever had one?" I taunted back.

"No, but I'm open to extreme possibilities."

"Langly, you're such a boor. The poor woman just lost her husband, and you're hassling her." Byers apparently ascribed to good manners no matter what, whereas Langly adhered to bad ones in the face of anything.

"Plus he hasn't been laid in ages," Frohike hastened to point out.

"And you have?" Langly shot back.

"I'm saving myself," Frohike demurred.

"He was saving himself for Scully. But she's obviously shown a serious lapse of reason and fallen in love with Mulder." Byers just shook his head.

"How long's that been going on?"

"Since about forever, or at least since they met. But they've only known each other--if you take my meaning--for about six months." Frohike sighed. I was assuming he meant in the Biblical sense of the word, and that he was not happy about this development.

"She's good for him." It was Byers, concentrating on his cards.

"Yeah, she's not afraid to shoot him. She's done it once." Langly chuckled.

"How's he coping with her recent deafness?" I really needed some feedback on this subject.

Frohike was pensive. "It's hard. They're trying to learn sign language, and he feels guilty for whatever reason that she got this way."

Langly tossed back his platinum locks. "One thing about Mulder: Doesn't matter what it is. He'll always manage to feel guilty. We don't spend a lot of time discouraging him, either."

"Not true." Frohike was ready to bid, but the conversation was far more interesting to me than the card game. "You seriously should avoid guilt-tripping Mulder unless absolutely necessary. He gets ugly."

"In what way?"

Frohike cleared his throat. "My dear, we understand you have more than a passing acquaintance with clinical depression." Oh God. How did they find this out? All I had ever done was taken Zoloft, and that was given me by my GP. The only way to find that out...it dawned on me that these guys had hacked my health insurance records.

"You guys, this is not nice. I'm feeling really compromised here."

"Not to worry." Frohike raised his hand gently. "We know that you manage in spite of it, that Zoloft has worked well for you, and you've never attempted to be destructive." He looked slightly apologetic. "Mulder insisted. For Scully's safety."

I had already insisted I was harmless. We'd run that road before.

"Since you all seem to know so much about me, are you also aware that I'm a professional at what I do? We have a code of ethics in our line of work. And you should note that I've never violated it."

"We know that, too. Apparently you can keep your mouth shut." Langly grinned wickedly. "It's a good quality."

"Well, some of us value our privacy."

"Allison, dear," Frohike looked at me sadly. "Any illusions you may have had about your privacy are just that. Illusions. And dangerous ones."

"Trust no one." Langly spoke very softly this time, and I sensed he wasn't kidding.

END OF PART 2