Classification: TRHA

Rating: PG-13. Only because this is Vegas, otherwise it'd be PG.

Summary: The Black Hat Briefings are on. A surprise encounter, and an even bigger surprise...

Spoilers: None.

Disclaimer: Still not mine, but with the way this thing is growing, I may be able to take them hostage soon. Property of 1013 Productions and Fox Television.
 
 
 

'Acephah

"O forlorn man, be still.
Here you need grieve no more; you need not feel
your life consumed here; I have pondered it,
And I shall help you go.

Homer, "The Odyssey," Book 5, Lines 168-171, Fitzgerald Translation. Used without permission.
 

August 5, 1999

Byers had been occupying the window seat for the trip and had been quietly scanning his speech and pecking away at his laptop. Perhaps pecking is the wrong word-the guy types so fast, you almost can't see his fingers move. And I'll bet he never makes a mistake.

Langly had balked at having to take the center seat, but I explained to him that if he wanted to sit near me, I always sit on the aisle (easier to make washroom trips), so he had to give Byers the window seat. Byers said nothing, of course, but I did notice him smirking quietly when Langly conceded the seat to him.

"So what's the plan here?" I inquired of the two men seated near me.

"Well, we have to check in first-" Byers started off.

"No, first you play the blackjack tables for a while. Then we check in and get a free room upgrade," Langly reminded him.

"Oh. Right."

"So that means we check out the hospitality suites first," Langly informed me. "Unless you wanna lose some money first."

"No, gambling doesn't do it for me, I think I'll head for the bar."

"Yeah, but you have to pay at the bar, and the hospitality suites have free drinks."

"Langly, you are such an operator."

"Actually, babe, I'm rather hungry and I wouldn't mind getting some lunch."

"We'll hit the buffet. One thing I can say for the suits: They set out a nice spread."

"And that was included in the price of admission?"

"Yep."

"Langly, I didn't pay. I'm just here as a guest."

"So? You seriously think somebody's going to ask you for ID? If you get hassled," he jerked a thumb in Byers' direction, "say you're with him." Byers blushed at that, but nodded his assent.

"After lunch, I plan to hit the pool. What're you going to do?"

"Catch up on some friends who're bound to be here. You'll meet 'em later."

"You don't want to," grumbled Byers.

"Of course she wants to. They're my friends," Langly retorted.

"You weren't planning to go to the Silver Saddle again?" Byers looked warily over at Langly.

"Hmm. Not sure."

Byers explained, "That's where you can get a cheap lapdance."

"Yeah, you should have seen the one we got for him last year. Me and Frohike-"

"Langly, shut up." Byers was blushing furiously, and it was the closest I'd ever seen him be to impolite. I gave Langly my best 'mom look.' He silently conceded defeat, but I suspected that he'd not be silenced for long. Since he never was.
 

Vegas was every bit as tacky as I remembered it. It was great to be here. I'd never been a big fan of the city that never sleeps, but it just felt good to be out of DC...and into the hot, dry heat of the desert. It was 107 degrees when we landed, but the humidity wasn't there. Wonderful.

"Jesus fuck, it's hot here!" Langly whined as we stepped out of the terminal and into the rental car lot.

"Langly, you say that every year," Byers reminded him. Byers had on his usual suit, and he didn't even appear to be sweating. "This is Vegas. It's the desert. It's August. It's hot."

"In other words, get over it," I added.

Byers led us to our rental car, which was a BMW convertible.

"The upgrade was free," he explained.

"I see. Very nice." This man never ceased to surprise me.

"Nazi engineering, nothing like it," agreed Langly.

"So Allison? Up or down?" Byers asked.

"I'm supposed to be making this decision?"

"Why not? I'm certainly not letting him make it," he pointed to Langly.

"Down for now. It's midday and we'll all get burnt again."

"Fair enough. And we can use the air conditioning."

We crawled in and made ourselves comfortable in the BMW's leather seats. They were hot from the sun, but they were still leather seats.

"Byers, you may be a pain in the ass sometimes, but you do know how to travel," Langly conceded to him.

"Whereas you are merely a pain in the ass," the words were biting, but the tone was amused.

"That he is," I agreed. This time, I got punched in the shoulder.
 

Vegas is tacky defined. Caesar's Palace stretches the concept to an unnatural limit, which meant it was going to be great fun to be here.

"This is so cool," Langly gushed as a pair of Elvis impersonators walked by.

"The décor is a little...extreme, wouldn't you say?" Byers observed.

"Well, I guess in Vegas, nothing succeeds like excess," I agreed.

"This is even better than the MGM Grand," Langly scanned about.

"It's cheaper than the MGM Grand," Byers informed him.

"Yeah, but Siegfried and Roy are at the MGM Grand."

"I tried to get tickets, but no go," Byers said sadly. "I've never been able to yet."

"I think the white tigers are the best," I put in my opinion.

"Yeah, do you know those guys sleep with them like pets?" Langly asked.

"Maybe they consider them their pets."

"Well, you two, I'm off to the casino for a while. Allison, do try and keep him out of trouble, although that may be quite difficult."

"He is pretty incorrigible." Then I turned to him, tiptoed up, and whispered in Langly's ear, "But you're so damn adorable."

I was richly rewarded with a very deep blush.
 

We headed for the buffet, which was very delicious and very extensive. And nobody hassled me. It was a real pleasure to have Mexican food that tasted like West Coast Mexican food again.

"Want something to wash that down with?" Langly asked. "Can you believe they're charging for brews?"

"Yes, I can, and I'd like a Dos Equis, please."

"Your wish is my command, my lady."

"Langly! What's up!" A large, long-haired, heavily bearded man with light brown hair and nose and eyebrow rings came up to our table.

"Hey Skulk. How're you, man?" They shook hands.

"God, I've got a real job these days."

"Skulk, you poor pathetic slob!"

"Yeah, but poverty sucks." He eyed me. "This your dominatrix?"

I was dressed in a pair of denim shorts, a white shirt, a pink tank top, and sandals. I had my hair in a ponytail. I think I looked about as far from a dominatrix as a person could. I cracked up.

"This would be her. This is Ally." I flinched a bit at the use of my nickname with strangers, but Langly was so at ease with it, I let it go. "Ally, this is Skulk. And he's totally lame compared to me."

"Ha! He wishes!" Skulk had a roaring laugh and he was obviously a person who enjoyed company.

"Sit down, Skulk. Eat."

"She's a Jewish mom, so you'd better not argue with her," Langly warned him.

"God, if Jewish moms all look this good, I want one of my own. Ally, what're you doing hanging around with this loser, anyway?"

"Funny, I get that a lot," I grinned wickedly, but winked at Langly. "I had this overpowering urge to be drawn into a life of total insanity."

"Occupational hazard around Mulder and Scully, you know that," he chided back. "We're the sane ones, girlfriend."

"If you're sane, then I'm underweight," Skulk glared at him. "So what's your area, Ally?"

"I'm not a computing professional, if that's what you mean. I do deaf support services, interpretation and realtime captioning."

"Langly, I'm impressed. You hooked up with a woman who's got a real job and a real brain, and good-looking to boot. You weren't planning on becoming respectable now, were you?"

"I don't think that's even a remote possibility," I reminded him drily.

"So how'd you guys meet?" he asked.

"Introduced by...mutual friends. He's one of the first people I met in DC," I informed him.

"I hope he's not representative of the general population there."

"No, most people don't have the certain je ne sais quoi I possess," Langly smirked at him.

"Thank God for small favors," Skulk wiped his brow. "So you guys around for the whole thing?"

"Yep. Wouldn't miss it," Langly assured him.

"LAN party tonight. You want in?" Skulk asked him.

"Yeah, sure. What's the scratch?"

"50 at the door. Bring your own laptop and network card."

Langly turned to me. "You mind?"

"Langly, I actually plan to do something novel and sleep on this trip. Go. Enjoy. I'm too old for this shit," I laughed.

"Not," Skulk looked in my direction.

"She's older than me," Langly announced, his lack of social skills critically evident right now. "She'll be 44 on Sunday." I'm not sensitive about my age, but leave it to Langly to make a public service announcement about it.

"No shit. Well, in that case, we'll have to do something commemorative. Good to see you. Ally, if he gives you any shit, let me know, and I'll sit on him."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He turned to Langly.   "She's really gonna be 44? No way!"

Welcome to the land of the socially inept, Ally.

The pools at Caesar's-yes, that's pools plural-were delightful. I had several trashy novels I looked forward to diving into as well.

I ordered a margarita and kicked back, closing my eyes and contemplating my life for the past nine months. This had literally been the first time since Eric's death that I was not in constant motion, and I savored it. Things had happened so fast that I really hadn't had any time to reflect on them. Motion and activity are wonderful things, but I didn't realize how exhausted
I was...

"Ally, hey. Wake up." I could hear Langly's voice and feel his slender fingers shaking my shoulder.

"Huh? Oh shit. I didn't get burned again, did I?" I had put block on before heading out and I kept my T-shirt on, but I had no idea how long I'd been asleep.

"Mmm. Maybe a bit pink. Not bad, though. Somebody here you probably know reasonably well."

Apricot hair like mine, same blue eyes...

"Jason!" My kid brother was standing there. "What're you doing here, baby bro?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing, but this guy sort of explains it all. So how're you doing, Ally?"

"Doing well, thanks. How'd you two run into each other?"

"We started talking during one of the colloquia, which was a major yawn. Dude had no idea what he was talking about. He noticed my last name, and asked if we were related, so he hauled me out here."

"D'ya bring the wife-to-be?"

"Nah, she hates these things. Actually, she's really got no idea how much I'm into...this stuff. And I'd rather she didn't. I mean, she knows, she just doesn't want to know the gory details. And she hates Vegas."

"I figured you'd be spending most of the time working with the band."

"I do, but it's expensive, and it's not like we're rich yet. So I still do a little...consulting work on the side."

"Lucrative?"

"Can be. Maybe if I worked more."

"God, if Mother ever finds out...she just about had a stroke when you gave up full-time programming to take your band on the road."

"If she finds out, so what?" Jason challenged. "I mean, I'm not Dr. Supersurgeon or Mr. CFO like my brothers. I really don't care if she doesn't like it. And it's not like they're the world's most happy campers."

"Why d'ya think?"

"All Dan ever does is bitch about how chintzy his HMO reimbursements are, and all his wife wants is more and more and more. Same with Rob. He and Laurie have this house that's way too expensive for them, they're always hitting on Mom for money. I tell you, they hate their lives. You haven't heard the latest."

"No, I try to avoid the family soap opera as much as possible."

"Well, it's hard when you still live nearby.   The latest is, Dan wants his inheritance now. And he thinks because he's got more kids than you or Rob, and they're boys, carry on the name and all that, he should be getting a bigger share."

"That's not new, except maybe the part about wanting it now. What's his problem? He makes more money than the rest of us put together. I'm lucky if I make a tenth of his income. I'm not rich, but I'm not starving, either."

"That's because you don't go crazy and live above your means. And Dan also thinks because I left my job to do the band, I should pay back Mom what my education cost."

"That's totally absurd!"

"I'm not seeing the logic there, either. But he also thinks you should be reduced because your husband died and you moved away."

"Y'know something, Jason? Do me a favor. Go back and tell Dan and Mother that they can cut me the fuck out for all I care. I didn't earn that money. I have no claim to it. Whatever I get, it's a gift. I don't expect it, and if it means that much to him, Danny can have it. I'm never going to get rich doing what I do, but I think I can manage to pay my own way. All I care about is eating and living indoors and taking care of my daughter and Langly here."

"So you guys are a pair." He said it, nodding nonjudgementally. "I wasn't sure. I sort of thought, but hey, I'm not going to make any assumptions till I find out for sure. And now I do. You guys happy?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation.

"Definitely," Langly echoed.

"So how d'ya like living on the East Coast?" Jason asked.

"I don't care for the weather, but it's feeling like home these days. Sort of like LA did after Eric and I moved there."

"How's working for the feds?"

"I didn't tell Mother this, but I got laid off from the Fibbies. I'm going to start working at Catholic University in a couple weeks. Back to academia."

"I won't say anything if you'd rather I didn't."

"I'd appreciate that. I know it doesn't matter, but I'd rather not have her ream me out over that. And you know she will. I swear, every choice I ever made, that woman finds fault with. And I'm just not willing to listen to her go after me anymore. I'm too old for this, Jay."

"That's right. You've got a birthday coming up soon."

"Try Sunday."

"Spending it here?"

"Yeah. Should be fun."

"At least you still know how to have fun."

"Most of the time. It was pretty bad after Eric died. I don't remember when I stopped feeling like shit every day, but it seemed like an eternity. On the other hand," I took Langly's long fingers in my short ones, "it seems like a long time that I've been happy, too. This past year...it's been intense."

"Been almost a year now, hasn't it?"

"October 29."

"Going to give him an unveiling?"

"Yeah, I am." I hadn't thought about it, but it was something I would not feel right not doing. I would do it.

"So are you guys living together?"

"Part of the time," Langly answered. "Actually, most of the time. I spend a lot of my time at the magazine, but when I'm not working, I pretty much live at Ally's. She cooks a lot better than my associates."

"Your associates here at the conference?"

"One of 'em. Have to listen to him give a talk tomorrow. He's good. You should go."

"What's the name?"

"John Byers."

"I'll keep that in mind. So you know my niece then?" He turned the conversation to Langly.

"Miranda? She's awesome."

"Yeah, she's a nice kid. How's she dealing with everything?"

"She had a hard time in the beginning, but she's pretty much adopted her new home and made new friends, all of whom seem to live at my house," I responded.

"Ah, Ally, you love it," Langly grinned.

"Yeah, I do. Her friends are good kids. I like having them there. Sometimes, though, it seems like they forget to go home." We'd had more than one frantic phone call from a parent, indicating that it had been over 24 hours since they had seen or heard from their daughter, and they were inevitably in my presence.

"Well, not like our house," Jason said.

"No. All my friends were afraid of Mother and Dad. Tell the truth, I'm afraid of them sometimes," I laughed.

"Dad's been dead for almost 17 years."

"He can still scare me sometimes." Jason nodded in agreement.

"And I thought my family was dysfunctional," Langly shook his head. He'd pulled his hair back into a ponytail to beat the heat and topped it with a Baltimore Orioles cap. He looked about fourteen and positively adorable.

"Actually, we're quite typically Marin County-dysfunctional," I laughed. "What's typical Fort Detrick dysfunctional?"

"Probably about the same, only poorer," Langly smiled back.

"You're a military brat?" Jason asked him.

"Of sorts. Not a typical one. My father was a researcher at Fort Detrick." I don't think he liked where this discussion was leading.

"Dana Scully, who I worked for at the FBI, was more of a typical military kid. They did the whole moving around the world thing." Langly seemed to like Jason and vise versa. I didn't need them moving into areas that would get Langly upset.

"You miss working there?"

"Yes and no. Actually, I just did three weeks of contract work there, teaching two new agents ASL. It was fun, but I'm looking forward to being back in the classroom."

"Seems to be your element," Jason agreed.

"So how does the conference look?" I asked both of them.

"Pretty lame from all indications," Langly gave a hand motion that didn't indicate he expected much. "The only reason I come is because all my friends are here."

"Yeah, same. It was a lot better when it was DEF CON."

"Definitely," Langly concurred. "But maybe we should hit some of the hospitality suites, seeing as it's moving into what MBA types would consider the cocktail hour."

"Langly, what in that regard distinguishes them from us?" I teased.

"We consider any hour to be a reasonable time for cocktails."

Jason laughed. "My dad always said, it's noon somewhere in the world."
 

Jason took off, wanting to hook up with some people he was traveling with, but promised he'd be around. Langly and I took off to the hospitality suites, which was an opportunity to eat endless cocktail meatballs, drink watered-down cocktails and Budweiser, and meet some of the strangest-and some of the nicest-people I'd ever staggered across.

"This has to be the weakest Margarita I ever had that didn't claim to be a virgin," I informed him.

"Yeah, but it's free. And we'll get a real dinner later. In a decent place."

"We keep saying that. Tonight I'm holding you to it." Every time we had planned to go out for dinner and have something akin to a date, something always came up, and we ended up calling Domino's or Pizza Hut and eating in front of the computer or on the sofa.

There was a cacophony of hairstyles, clothing, opinions all clogging the room. Langly seemed to know an awful lot of the people attending here. It was like a family reunion for hackers. There were a lot of them going by their e-mail names, which could at times be very confusing; I met at least three people who called themselves Phade. There were a few women, and they mostly seemed to be talking about getting new tattoos and upgrading their hard drives, but it was pretty much a boy party.

I was talking to a thirtyish hacker going by the name of Crackslut (a guy) when Langly nudged me in the shoulder.

"Ally," he said, trying to be heard over the din. "See that kid over there?"

"Which one? We've got an amazing selection."

"That one. The one with the blue and green hair and the nose and lip pierces."

"Langly, that description fits at least ten percent of the people here."

"No, that one."

"Langly, I'm one of the shortest people here. Move over so I can see."

I stepped around him, and he pointed to a young man with the aforementioned blue and green hair and a great many piercings in his face. He had several tattoos on one arm, and was dressed in a long black T-shirt with the name of an obscure band on the front, baggy shorts that hung to his knees, and black combat boots. He wore wire-framed glasses and under no circumstances would be considered to be stud material on sight.

"Looks a lot like Frohike, doesn't it?"

"Well, has about the same fashion sense, but he's so...let's just say you'd have to be in a pretty dark bar and have had more than your share of slammers before you took him home."

"No, look. The face. It's Frohike's. I swear."

"Well, I suppose anything is possible..." I had learned not to rule out anything anymore. I had, after all, run into my baby brother at this event.

"I'm gonna go talk to him."

"Be my guest. I'm going to see if anybody else has better drinks. I'll meet you back at the room in an hour?"

"That works." We kissed. It was delicious.
 

Before I moved on to the other suites-women always seem to have carte blanche at these events, and nobody asked me what the hell I was doing there-I stepped outside. I needed a cigarette, and I'm not good in crowds. I don't panic, but feeling closed in can make me very edgy.

I had grabbed a real Margarita from the bar-I didn't care if I had to pay 4.50 for it, it tasted like a real one-and sat outside of the lobby, dragging lazily away on a Marlboro Light. I was enjoying its masturbatory tang and I didn't even see the person in uniform approach me.

"Evening, ma'am." It was a uniform, and it was military, but as to what branch it was, I didn't have a clue.

"Hi."

"What brings you outside?"

"The air was too clean indoors," I answered as I took a drag.

"Seems to me a pretty lady like you should be in having a good time."

"I just needed a break, that's all. I'm...with someone."

"Hope he's treating you nice."

"He is. He's just more of a partier than I am."

"Maybe that's because you haven't found the right party."

"Sir, I'm sorry, I'd really like to just be alone right now."

"Whatever. Have a nice evening, ma'am."

"Thank you."
 

I caught Jason in the bar, grabbing an Anchor Steam beer with some of his compadres.

"I am not going to drink that Budweiser shit. Call me a snob, but that stuff tastes like elephant piss," he complained. "You want another maggie?"

"Okay." I ended up dumping the one from the hospitality suite; it tasted like stale water.

"This is my sister Allison. This is Muzzle, and this is Ron." Muzzle's fashion sensibilities leaned heavily toward leather. I wondered if he was dominant or submissive. Ron looked like a surfer, down to the windswept light brown hair and the killer tan.

"Nice to meet you," Muzzle extended his hand.

"I didn't know they let sisters in this place. I wouldn't let my sister come here," Ron shook my hand, and I noticed it was a left-handed shake.

"Southpaw?" I asked.

"Yup."

"Yeah, me too. There're a few of us around."

Muzzle asked, "So where's your old man?"

I laughed. "Jesus, does everybody here know?"

Muzzle shrugged. "Hey, it's a small world, and gossip is the main attraction."

"I'll keep that in mind in case I want to take up lapdancing or stripping," I commented drily.

"Nobody'd notice here," laughed Ron.

"I suspect not. So are any of you doing the LAN parties tonight?"

"Why, you in?" Muzzle asked suspiciously.

"No, Langly is."

"We knew that," Muzzle responded, as if it were so obvious as to be an insult.

"Need us to keep an eye on him?" asked Ron.

"No, I think he can be trusted."

That got a good laugh from all three of them. "Allison," Muzzle shook his head, "you really are a fool, aren't you?"

"Thanks for the drink, guys."
 

It was an historic event-not the conference, but the fact that Langly and I actually had dinner, just the two of us, real food in a real restaurant. We had gone out to dinner before, but it tended to be Hugo's or Talia's, and usually with kids in tow. This was a date, the first one we had.

"You know, we could do this sometimes and I wouldn't object," I assured him.

"Yeah, getting out and having something not totally soaked in grease and with no kids around-I mean, I like the kids-"

"Jesus, Langly, it's okay to not want the kids around sometimes! When parents have fantasies about terrific vacations and such, they almost NEVER involve children!"

"I dunno, I didn't want you to think-"

"Langly, I know you love Miranda. I love her dearly. But that doesn't mean I want her there 24/7. The responsibility is always there, so any temporary respite is welcome!"

"Oh." He stared down at his plate. "I really do like the kid, you know. I just like it sometimes when she's not around, too."

"Welcome to parenting, babe."

"It's funny, when I first knew you, I figured, well, she's your kid, and you'd deal with her, you know? But it's sort of like...well, she's yours, and she's part of you, and I have to deal with her too, which I don't mind, she's really cool, but sometimes...Sometimes the stuff she wants is hard!"

I laughed gently. "It's the world's most exhausting job."

"I mean, I'm not her dad, I'm not trying to be-"

"Langly, look at me." He raised his pale eyes and pulled off his glasses. "Look, all I ever expected was that you treat my child with kindness and respect. I never expected you to go all out the way you do. But it's one of your most endearing traits. Your generosity with her is unbelievable."

"I don't buy her anything. Maybe some ice cream and a video rental sometimes."

"Langly, that's not what I meant! And you tell me I'm clueless! You are always available to her. You don't treat her like she's a stupid kid."

"Well, she's not."

"That's beside the point. You have given her time and interest and energy at a point in her life when she critically needed it, and she adores you totally."

"Really?"

"Yes, really!"

"Well, y'know, I'm sort of new at this parenting stuff." He was blushing, but he smiled.

"We're all new to it every day. You just keep learning all the time.

"Oh."

"You don't seriously think I was born knowing this, do you?"

"Well, I dunno. Seems sometimes like women are more tuned in to that sort of thing-"

"It did not come naturally to me. I had to learn everything. And this was even after having 3 younger brothers and spending a fair chunk of my youthful life babysitting!"

"Uh-huh." He looked down again. "Y'know, I think Miranda means a lot to me...because I have a feeling she may be the only kid I ever have."

I sobered for a moment. "If you and I are together, Langly, that's a really distinct possibility. I think you have to decide if you can live with that."

He shook his head and smiled a bit. "Already have."

"So what did you decide?"

"Well, I was gonna wait for your birthday, but I'll do it now."

"Do what?"

"So are you gonna marry me or what?"

Oh God. Miranda strikes again...

"Yes. Definitely. Absolutely."

"So you will."

"Yes. Yes, I will." I could feel my whole body smiling. We both were.

We silently held hands for several minutes, finally coming to when the waiter asked if we wanted coffee or dessert.

"Langly, there is one thing."

"What's that?"

"I'm not getting married by an Elvis impersonator."

He laughed. "I don't think I'd want to risk you daughter killing us by not including her, which is the only reason we're not doing it right now. Besides the Elvis thing, of course."

I couldn't stop smiling. "What time does the LAN rave start?"

"Screw the LAN party. We'll do a private one tonight."

Wow.

END OF PART 20