Classification: TRHA

Rating: PG. Do you seriously think these people have time for sex right now?

Summary: More aggravation, less satisfaction, no resolution. Just a typical day. And is there a Frohike on the loose?

Spoilers: Maybe a small one, indirectly related to "The End."

Disclaimer: So what if they're not mine? I'm playing with them and having fun. Property of Fox Television and 1013 Productions.
 

"Well, let this company plan his destruction,
And leave him no way out, this time. I see
Our business here unfinished while he lives."

Homer, "The Odyssey," Fitzgerald Translation, Book 16, Lines 449-451. Used without permission.
 

Paranochleo

August 10, 1999

Although we accomplished our stated tasks during the day, it had been something of a minor disaster. Miranda had sulked the entire day. Shelby tried to humor her, but eventually she ran out of patience and they got into an argument. Miranda and Langly had argued noisily in the supermarket, further reinforcing my belief that I should never shop with anyone. Langly had been squeezed in to see Frohike's optometrist, but the glasses would not be ready for two more days, and he almost choked on the cost. (I didn't, but he was having a hissy over the price of the exam and the frames he had selected). We waited forever in the bank to set up new accounts and the rep had an attitude a mile wide and six feet deep.

"I don't care what you say. I need a beer." I shot him a look as we unpacked the last of our purchases.

"Yeah. Grab me one, too, okay?" He looked very tired. "I'm gonna have to go into the office for a while. Byers has some stuff he wants me to look over. So I'm gonna bail for a while after dinner."

"Coming back later?"

"Yeah. I just need to get caught up on some work. I'll be back in time to go to bed. You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," I lied. Fact was, I was freaking out, but I didn't care to have my behavior dissected right now; I'd been there and done that already today. "Uh, babe? How do you plan to get back to DC?"

"Oh, fuck. Can you run me there?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

"Mom!" Miranda yelled from the top of the stairs. "Can Shelby and I sleep over at Sarah's?"

"Is her mother going to be there?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Just asking. You can go. Shelby needs to ask her own mother."

"Well, we don't have to have sulking teenagers with us," I commented to Langly.

"I could get behind that," he agreed. "I didn't hear the phone ring."

"They probably picked up the voice mail."

"Miranda!" He called up the stairs. "Hey, Miranda!"

She charged out of her room. "What?!" Her voice was rife with irritation.

"Were there any voice mail messages?"

"Not for you. One for my mom. From Dana, it was on the relay."

"Shit. I promised Mulder I'd call her." I had completely forgotten about it. "I suppose I could go over there tonight after I dropped you off...provided she wants the company."

"Kind of a hike to Annapolis at that hour."

"It's not that bad. I just don't know if I feel up to being sociable tonight."

"Who says she wants to be sociable? Call her back and see what's up. Maybe she and Mulder have traded some information they'd like to share."

"Yeah...SHIT!"

"What?"

"Emma. I haven't called Emma. Oh, shit."

"Think anybody's contacted her yet?"

"I don't think so, or I would have heard from her by now. SHIT!" I grabbed the cordless, and at the same time I hit the talk button, I heard the line upstairs being picked up.

"Get off the damn phone!" I hissed into the receiver.

"Sor-RY!" Miranda fired back, and slammed down her end.

This was not a call I wanted to make.
 

Emma was not at home, and I couldn't help but feel relieved. I did leave her a message to get back to me as soon as possible. As soon as I hung up, the phone rang again, and I went once again through the racing heart-sweaty palms routine.

If I hadn't been holding the phone, I'd have asked Langly to grab it, but I was the lucky winner this time.

"Allison! It's Ellen!"

"Ellen! What's going on?" A voice I could be glad to hear.

"I was about to ask you that. Mulder told us what's up. Sorry I can't help you on the investigation at the moment, but I'm kind of tied up in this one right now. I just wanted to call and let you know I was thinking about you. Says you got Lowry and Carnesale."

"That's true."

"They're okay. Is Langly there?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just ask him if Lowry tried to hit on him."

"Mulder did say something that implied he was gay..."

"Just ask him! I'm not having any fun on this case, and I'm dying to know! A girl needs some comic relief in her life!"

I covered the speaker. "Langly, it's Ellen. She wants to know if Lowry tried to pick you up."

He rolled his eyes. "What is this? Mulder asked me the same question."

"Well, Ellen wants to know."

"Why?!"

"Ask her yourself." I handed him the phone. He didn't know Ellen very well, so this might get weird, but I was not about to get in the center of it.

"Hi, Ellen." He sounded a bit put out and not terribly friendly. "Why d'you wanna know?" All of a sudden, he had a huge smile on his face. "Are you kidding! No way! God, that's disgusting! But very amusing in its own twisted way." She went on explaining, and he had a look that combined shock and amusement in a way that only he could accommodate. "Sorry, can't  help the gossip columnists. Answer's no. You wanna talk to Ally? Okay, here she is." He was giggling when he got off the phone and he ran up the stairs.

"Ellen, what did you tell him?"

She was giggling on her end. "Have him tell you. Anyway, seriously girlfriend, I'll do what I can as soon as I get back, and I know Mulder's working on it as well. Dana's looking into some stuff as well, although I don't think Mulder's too happy about it."

"He is such a patriarch."

"They all are, dear. They all are. It lets them think they're in charge, when in fact we know otherwise." She cackled conspiratorially. "Anyway, I just thought I'd give you a yell before I called home and got the rundown in excruciating detail from Dave and the boys."

"Appreciate it, Ellen. I really do. How do you like my old hometown?"

"I'd know if I could get out in it. Fat chance of that."

"Investigation moving along?"

She coughed a bit. "Let's just say that things are not happening, and let it go at that."

"Well, good luck."

"You too, girlfriend. Later." She cut the connection.
 

I walked the girls over to Sarah's townhouse with the dog in tow. It was still daylight, but the girls claimed they didn't mind if I walked with them, provided that I refrained from making embarrassing remarks upon seeing Sarah's mother. When the children in question are 13, it's hard to know what's going to be embarrassing, but I assured them I would make a valiant effort.

Tiny and I started our walk back across the complex. It was a pleasant night, fairly free from the heavy humidity that apparently is a trademark of northern Virginia in the summer.

"Young lady." A male voice, soft, melodious. No way could he be addressing me. I let Tiny walk me on.

"Young lady." The voice again. This time accompanied by the smell of cigarette smoke.

I glanced around me. No one else was out in the public area of the complex. My skin began to crawl. I began to have the same sensation I had whenever the phone rang. I was having that sensation a lot lately. Tiny began to bark.

"Quiet!" I hissed at Tiny, and kept walking.

"I thought we might have a word." There was a man in front of me, smoking a strong-smelling cigarette, wearing an expensive suit. His voice was very musical and gentle, but the eyes were flat and cold.

"Sir, I'm sorry, I really have to get home." I tried to deflect him.

"I think it would be in your interest to hear me out."

"I don't know you, I've never seen you before, and I really have to go." I picked up the pace and began to haul Tiny towards my place. "And if you don't leave me alone, I'm going to scream right now."

"Perhaps I was mistaken. Maybe your sister-in-law's welfare is not so important to you after all. Or should I say, former sister-in-law?"

I was ready to pass out from panic. "Who the fuck are you?"

"The language young women use these days. Most distasteful." He smoked lazily.

 "Look, leave me alone, don't come back here!" I ran towards my townhouse, now within sight.

"As you wish."

I could barely work my key in the locks. "Langly!" I screamed when I got inside.
 

He came racing down the stairs. "Jesus fuck, Ally, what's wrong?"

"Langly, there was this guy...and he said he knew about Lydia." I could barely find my voice.

"C'mere, c'mere." He wrapped his long arms around me and pulled me in tight, smoothing my back and burying his face in my hair. I began sobbing. "Hey, calm down," he murmured soothingly. I clung on to him for several minutes, wrapping my own arms around his waist.

"Langly, I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"Mmm. Take it easy there." He continued to hold me very close against him. I began to calm in his embrace, and we sat down on the sofa. He still held me into him.

"You okay?" He asked after a few more minutes.

"Yeah, I think so. For the moment."

He studied my face. "Never took you for a screamer."

"I'm not."

"I know. 'Cept maybe in bed." I giggled a little; I had pretty much lost all control at this point and was twisting in the breeze emotionally. He lifted up my glasses and smudged the tears off my face. "You up to driving yet?"

"Just give me a minute." I got up and went to scrub my face. I used the coldest water I could stand. Then I pulled my hair out of the barrette I'd had it clasped in, shook out what remained of the curls I had, and smeared some lip gloss on. At least I was presentable.

"Ooh, she's got the hair down. How come you've always got it pulled back?"

"Stays out of my face that way."

"Yeah, okay. But you look so pretty when it's down like that. And I like the curls a lot."

"Thank you." I was touched. Langly may not be a poet, but he knows how to work a girl's emotions. I was amazed at how much better I felt from just the simple compliment.

"Let's go." He set the alarm code, locked the doors, and we headed off for southeast DC.
 

Once inside the Sentra, the topic turned to my encounter in the common area.

I had given but a very short description of my 'assailant', but the reaction in Langly was palpable.

"Jesus fuck. You have seen him before, Ally."

"I don't think so."

"Mulder and Scully's wedding. The guy arguing with Mrs. Mulder. Remember?"

"You think that was him?"

"Positive." He was clearly upset now. "Kids weren't with you when you saw him, right?"

"No, thank God."

"He probably saw them, though. Shit."

"Who is this guy, anyway?"

"The Smoking Bastard? Oh man, Ally, you don't want to be anywhere near him."

"He was in the commons."

"Oh fuck, he knows where you live. Ally, we're gonna get a house. Tomorrow. We have to."

"If he could find us here, what makes you think he won't be able to find us if we move? From what you say, I suspect he'd know where we were before we even moved in!"

"Yeah, probably. But it might throw him off for a while."

"Real estate deeds are public documents, and they're easily located."

"Yeah, I know. But I think we need to get the hell out of Dodge."

"Langly, Miranda wants to stay in Alexandria. She likes her school. She's got friends. And I'm tired of subjecting her to upheaval that she had nothing to do with creating! And what about Shelby?"

"Yeah. I dunno. I was sort of thinking of the Maryland side-"

"I know, it's your native state-"

"Hey, I've spent enough time in Virginia, though."

"Yeah, you got your graduate degrees at UVA."

"Did my undergrad at William and Mary."

"So you don't mind staying in Virginia?"

"Doesn't bother me. Could be worse."

"Yeah, could be southeast DC. What made you guys go there?"

"Cheap rent. And it wasn't Baltimore."

"That's right, you all got hooked up in Baltimore."

"Yeah. Way back when. Ten years together."

"Got any pictures of you all way back then?"

"Not many. Maybe a couple."

"Langly, it's sort of strange. You've seen tons of photos of Miranda and me and Eric and all of our various and sundry pets, and my brothers and their wives and kids and my parents, but I've never seen one of you prior to when I knew you."

"I think Joan has most of 'em. I dunno."

"D'you ever think about trying to get in contact with her?"

"I do. I don't know. I doubt she'd want to see me."

"I think she would."

"Yeah, but her husband would probably kill both of us."

"E-mail her."

"No." He shook his head. "If I do get hooked up with her, I've gotta do it up close and personal."

"Why don't you invite her to the wedding?"

"Suppose I could. I don't think she'd come."

"I think she would."

"Not if her bastard husband has anything to say about it." He crossed his arms tightly. "He probably thinks I'll corrupt their charming children."

"Her kids are pretty well grown up. Don't you think they'd be able to make up their own minds on the subject?"

"Ally, you think all parents give their kids the same chances you give yours. Joan's husband is a fundamentalist bastard, and he's probably seen to it that those kids are indoctrinated as opposed to educated. Think for themselves? Not."

"You haven't seem them in twelve years. Maybe they'd surprise you."

"Maybe." He seemed unconvinced.

"Y'know what else is weird?"

"Besides everything?"

"Besides that." I actually laughed a little. "I have no idea what your middle name is."

"What makes you think I have one?" he teased.

"Well, do you?"

"Yeah, I have one."

"What is it?"

He grimaced. "Patrick."

"What the hell's wrong with Patrick?"

"I suppose nothing. Joan picked it out." He sighed.

"What was her motivation?"

"Don't know." He seemed distant, staring out the window. Once again, we had drifted into territory that was making him ill at ease. Only problem was, everything in our lives at this point was making us ill at ease. There seemed to be no safe places, no comfortable topics.

"You never told me who the person was that I...came upon earlier."

"Him? He was supposedly Mulder's dad's stepbrother."

"Wow. That's weird."

"And supposedly, he had an affair with Mrs. Mulder, and there's some question as to the parentage of Mulder and his kid sister."

"So it's possible..."

"That our smoking friend is Mulder's progenitor. I hesitate to use the word father. To me, that word means something."

"Means something pretty important. Not just that you made a sperm donation." I smiled a bit. "My animal physiology professor always used to say sperm is cheap."

"Yeah, it is. Being a father is something different."

"I agree. And I applaud your efforts with Miranda."

"I don't think I'm exactly at the top of Miranda's most wanted list right
now."

"Probably not, but that doesn't diminish your importance to her. And Langly? I've honored your request and I've never told her about your vacation at Lompoc. But I think you should tell her."

"Great. That'll really earn me snaps."

"Actually, Miranda respects honesty. And sooner or later, she's going to find out. Just tell her. She's mad as hell at you right now, I'll grant you, but I think she knows you give a shit about her. Miranda's got a good head. She'll hear you out."

"Maybe not after she figures out what I did to her computer."

"What did you do to her computer, Langly?"

"Let's just say that if she tries to log in on any computer in the house, she's in for a major surprise."

"I hope this doesn't involve the use of explosives."

He laughed. "No. Nothing like that. I just blocked her access. I'll give it back to her pretty soon."

"She's gonna be one bitchy camper, you know."

He gave me a wide-eyed, mocking grin. "Oh, well."

When we arrived at the Lone Gunmen offices, only Byers was present. He was working with a photograph, enlarging and enhancing the details on it. I recognized the subject. It was the kid whom Langly thought might be related to Frohike.

"So what do you think?" Byers asked Langly as he put several views on the computer. He had changed the subject's hairstyle and had aged him forward and backward to get a more complete picture.

"I think he needs a better hairstylist," Langly commented dryly. The comment had merit; no matter how Byers enhanced or altered the image, the fact was that the kid was a bad hair victim.

"I think he looks a lot like Frohike no matter how you slice him," I added.

"As do I," Byers nodded in concurrence.

"So what's next?" Langly asked him.

"I think it's time to attempt to locate Michael Frohike."

"You're pretty sure it's him," I stated, and I had to agree that the images all bore a striking resemblance to our resident Frog Prince.

"I do. I watched him in Las Vegas as well. The body language was unmistakeably Frohike's. Normally, I'd be skeptical on the basis of working with a single photograph, and a poorly taken Polaroid at that-"

"Hey, I took that snapshot!" I chided him.

"Sorry, Ally. Photography's not your calling," Langly slipped an arm over my shoulder. "But don't worry. You have many other talents, some of which won't be listed here."

Byers had the good sense to blush at that one.

"I don't know." I was somewhat skeptical of what was going to happen. "Do you really think Frohike wants to get with him? And more importantly, if this is Michael, do you really think he'll want to have anything to do with Frohike?"

"I think he will." Langly, starved for family connections, was always sure that someone wanted to reach out and touch someone. Unless it was himself involved.

Byers, ever the philosopher king, was resolute. "There is one truth we all have in this world. And that would be that we are all somebody's children. It's a blessing, it's a curse. But we all came from someone. And they are connections not easily severed, even when circumstances force otherwise."

"True." If what Langly had told me was true, there was a lot I didn't know about whom I'd come from. But I was linked to them no matter what. And in spite of the fact that deals with the devil may have been made all around, they were my blood connections, and that fact could not be denied. I wasn't even sure I'd want to deny it, even in the worst case scenario.

Byers went on. "I'm playing amateur psychologist here, Ally, but I'm guessing that the reason you cling to your Jewish faith is to know where you came from, to remind you of your origins in the world. I don't sense much religiosity on your part, but I do have the sense that your traditions ground you."

"They do. They're very important to me. And important to pass to Miranda." I popped the top off of the beer that Langly had run off momentarily and came back with magically. I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. "As for religion, if you ask me, I think God utterly indifferent."

"I think he's a bastard, in the remote event he exists," Langly added.

"And you know where I stand on the subject." Byers made no secret of his atheism.

"But you do believe family is forever," I tried to clarify this in my mind.

"Yes, I do." He returned to his imaging. "Speaking of family, I'm headed out of town this weekend. Finals are over this week, and my sister has invited me to join her and her husband in Hilton Head Island."

"She's married to a dermatologist, right?" Langly piped in.

"Yes. They've invited me down to spend some time and see my nieces, whom I haven't seen since last Christmas. I do miss them, and while Hilton Head reeks of Republican corruption, it's quiet there, I love the beach, and the girls are always delightful. And my brother-in-law is actually a decent human being, even if he will insist on playing golf." Byers gave a rueful smile. "I do hate the game."

"Probably because you can't play for shit," Langly teased.

"That, too. They do have a small sailboat, though, and the one thing I can do better than Craig is sail." I was surmising that Craig was the brother-in-law.

"My dad loved boats." We'd always had sailboats when I was growing up. My father was far more interested in teaching my brothers than me, which was ironic, because I was the one who ended up enjoying the sport the most. "What kind of boat?"

"Just a J-24. Very docile boat, easy to maneuver." I was familiar with the craft, and I was experiencing a few twinges of jealousy.

"My dad's last boat was an Ericsson 29. My favorite boat was the one before that, though. A Catalina 27."

"Catalinas are beautiful," he agreed.

"Excuse me, but I'm feeling a little left out of the rich kids' conversation here." Langly demonstrated his impatience.

"Oh, Langly, relax. Someday I'll show you how to sail," I grabbed him around the waist and gave him a reassuring squeeze.

"You do boats? I thought you puked on everything." He looked very surprised.

"I do. That's what Scop patches are for."

"Transderm Scop? That's off the market right now," Byers stated. "Problems in the delivery system."

"Well, there's always meclazine." The yellow pills accompanied me on all travels. "And if all else fails, I just feed the fish."

"Ally, you are so disgusting," Langly shook his head.

"Yes, and you love it," I shot back.

"So how long're you staying in Republicanland?" Langly asked Byers.

"I'm leaving on Saturday morning. Classes begin on September 2, and I thought I'd come back on August 29. That's two weeks. Don't worry, I'll be working remote. I'm taking two of the laptops with me."

"Byers, I never worry about you not working," Langly assured him. "I think that's all you do."

Byers grinned. "Not when I'm with my nieces."

"How old are your nieces?" I inquired.

"Seven and four. They're lovely."

Langly looked as if a lightning bolt just hit him. "Hey Byers. Do you think-what's your sister's name, Karen?"

"Katherine."

"Think Katherine would mind if you brought a couple of extra kids with you?"

Byers eyed him quizzically. "I'm not sure I follow."

Langly was animated now. "It's Miranda and Shelby. Y'know, with all the crap going down right now, and Ally's gotta get back to work and all, and I'm starting with the suits next week-" nice of him to let me know-"we think it might be a good idea to get the kids off someplace safe."

"Hmm. I could certainly ask her. I doubt she'd mind. Katherine is a generous soul, she loves children, and the girls would probably be delighted at the prospect of spending time with two 'older women.'" He looked down for a moment. "I actually think it's probably a good idea, and having two young ladies accompany me for the drive is an...interesting proposition."

Langly and I passed a look that said, you have no idea.

"Excuse me. I'm going to call her now." Byers excused himself and went to the phone. The conversation was muffled, but it sounded as if his sister was obliging. There were no pleading tones, just friendly, affectionate ones.

He returned a few minutes later. "Katherine said she'd be delighted, and she also feels that the girls would love it."

"I can't thank you enough," I told him, and gave him a quick embrace. He blushed a bit-the man definitely had the redhead's curse-but he returned the gesture.

"Your sister always sounded like she was pretty cool," Langly smiled.

"Kat? She's a love. Salt of the earth."

"You're very lucky."

"Have the girls ready by 8:00 on Saturday. I'll come by for them. They don't need to pack for the entire two weeks; they have full laundry facilities."

"I'll give them some money for food and amusements," I added.

"Don't worry about that. We spend most of the time either at the beach, and Kat and Craig's beach house has a swimming pool as well. Usually we barbecue in the evenings."

"Yes, but does it have a pool bar?" I was concerned for the important amenities.

"As a matter of fact, it does," Byers assured me.

"I am so jealous," I laughed. And I was.

"Y'know, Ally, we could get out of Dodge for the weekend, maybe do some camping over by...well, you know where I took you last time?" He leered at me.

"Langly, my idea of camping is staying in something less than a four-star hotel."

"How come you guys have camping gear then?"

"Eric...used to like to take the telescopes out and we'd camp out in the desert."

"So you have gone camping! And here I thought you were a true JAP."

"Let's just say, I've never uttered the words, 'I want to go camping' in my entire life, and I always hated getting ready for the trips, but once I was there, I always really enjoyed myself."

"So let's go." He was fired up now.

"I'm not sure that's such a great idea," I hesitated.

"Sure it is! It'll do you good. C'mon, whad'ya say?"

"Do they have showers nearby?"

That made him laugh out loud. "Ally, don't ever try to tell me you're not a princess! Yeah, they have showers. You need a bunch of quarters for 'em."

"I don't care if I need Krugeraands to operate them. Just so they have them."

He laughed. "You are a princess."

"Just because I like to be clean?"

"Children, children," Byers mock-admonished. "Let's keep it down now." We could hear keys turn in the door. "It's Frohike."

"So are we gonna tell him?" Langly asked.

"Yes." Byers had made up his mind on this. And one argues with a redhead at his own peril. Langly should get hip to that fact, I thought silently.

"Hey Frohike. Want a beer?" Langly caroled out.

"Thank you, yes, I need one." The little man seemed very irritated about something. He was carrying a small cardboard box. "I don't know, but I think we've been ripped off."

"Well, we needed that device. Thanks for going for it," Byers took it from him.

"How're you doing, Frohike?" I gave him a quick hug.

"I'll survive, my dear, I'll survive." He glanced over at Langly. "Hello, stranger."

"Frohike, thanks for bailing me out yesterday. My mother really thought you were the housekeeper," I chimed in.

"Not a problem, my dear. Always glad to oblige."

"Frohike, we got something to show you." Leave it to Langly to plunge right in with both feet. If the man could dive, it would be cannonballs only.

"Yes, we do." Byers gave Langly an annoyed look, indicating that he had intended to broach the subject with a bit more finesse.

"So let's have a look," Frohike wandered over to Byers' computer. He peered into the image on the screen. Byers flipped over to the various images he had prepared. Frohike was turning dangerously pale. He let his eyes come away from the screen for a moment and travel over us. "Where did you get this?"

"In Vegas," Langly answered with a shrug. "Ally took the picture, which is why it sucks." I punched him in the knee.

"At the convention. It can't be...no, it's Michael. It has to be." He sat down, looking somewhat faint.

"You okay, Frohike?" I was worried about him.

"Michael...at the Black Hat Briefings. Who'd have thought?" Frohike was shaking his head in wonderment.

"Obviously you have more in common than you thought," Langly stated.

"My God. I can't believe...do you know where he is?"

"Didn't talk to him," Langly told him. "We just sorta kept an eye on him. 'Course, we were busy with other stuff, so we didn't see if he checked out the lap dancers or the strippers."

"Well, that would have been proof positive," I said, and Frohike semi-smiled.

"Are you going to try and contact him?" Byers inquired.

"I...I don't know. I'm not sure he would...want me to."

"Only one way to find out," Langly shrugged.

"I...I need to think about this. This is quite a shock, even for me," Frohike looked like he might not recover his bearings anytime soon. "What was he like when you saw him?"

"I think 'surly' would about cover it," I recalled in my mind the image of the poorly mannered semi-child at the hospitality suite.

Frohike nodded. "It's got to be Michael." He grimaced, but he began to get color in his face again. He looked up at Langly. "My God, his hair is even more ghastly than yours."

"Hey, at least I still have all mine!" Langly gloated.

"I love his hair," I smiled as I ran my hands through the white-blonde locks.

"Well, as I've said before, there is no accounting for taste. Ally, it's good to have you in our midst. What brings you over here?"

"Chauffeur duty. Sexy here can't see too well, and he's got two more days before he can qualify as a road non-menace." I kissed Langly. This was fun.

"So you were able to get an appointment," Frohike said. "Good. We have an issue to get out, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, why d'ya think I'm here?" Langly grumbled. "It's not like I miss being around you guys 24/7 or anything."

"Frohike, I had an...interesting encounter earlier this evening," I felt that he and Byers should be aware of what happened, if only for their own sakes.

"What sort of encounter?" Byers was on alert now, and even Frohike snapped up a bit.

"I walked Miranda and Shelby over to a friend's place in the complex, and I had the dog with me. While I was walking back, this guy came out of nowhere and was in the commons. And he seemed to know some...things about me."

"The Smoking Bastard," Langly spat the words out.

"Oh my God." Frohike was not having a good night. "What did he say to you, my dear?"

"Well, first of all, the guy has to be half blind, because he kept calling 'young lady.'"

"Compared to him, you are a young lady, I'm sure." Frohike commented. "And by the way, a very pretty lady."

"Thank you. And he said something about my not being concerned about the welfare of my sister-in-law, and then he corrected himself and said, former sister-in-law." I was cold again. The phrase was cryptic, and I wasn't sure what the intended meaning was. "I'm not sure if he meant former because of Eric, or because..." I couldn't say it.

"What did you say to him?" Byers was inquiring.

"I told him to get the fuck away from me. And he made some crack about how young women today were foul-mouthed."

"You didn't tell him anything." Byers looked serious.

"No. He said he thought it would be in my interest to have a few words with him. I refused."

"And he left you alone?" Byers looked genuinely surprised.

"All he said when I left was, 'as you wish.'"

"Bullshit. There's no way he'll leave you alone now," Frohike was angry. "He wants something."

"What?"

"We don't know. But he's not somebody you want to be around, my dear." Frohike looked very concerned. "He's dangerous, and I am not exaggerating." He looked at Langly and I. "When are you two moving?"

"Don't know. We haven't even started looking. And it sounds like they could find us anywhere."

"Ally wants to stay in Alexandria," Langly stated.

"I don't give a fuck about Alexandria, but Miranda doesn't want to be uprooted again. And I will honor that."

"All right. But you should find a new place. And soon," Byers advised.

"The thing I'm worried about is, what if Lydia can't find us?"

"I think...I don't know what to think at this point. We've been hacking into Meer-Beck's records, but we're not coming up with anything yet." Byers looked only mildly discouraged. "There has to be a connection to the employer, but it's not clear what that is yet."

"I think it goes way beyond the employer," Langly was adamant.

"I think there's credence in both, and they're not necessarily contradicting each other," Frohike wrinkled his brow. "Speaking of which, I have an audience on Sunday with Sam Silverman in Jersey. I think getting in to see the Pope would have been easier." He harrumphed.

"He's a little paranoid, from what Lydia told me," I said, and we all laughed.

"Well, he has good reason to be. Of that I'm certain," Frohike muttered. "In the meantime...I think I have to resolve...the Michael question." He was distant again.

"You know that I'm leaving for Hilton Head Island on Saturday," Byers reminded him.

"Of course, of course. Visiting the nieces. You are a lucky man indeed." Frohike looked sad.

"I'm going to have some...traveling companions," Byers informed him.

"We're shipping the girls off with him," Langly announced.

"The girls will have a wonderful time. Kat is so lovely. You remember Kat, don't you, Langly? God, it's been what, seven, eight years now? She was pregnant with the first one when I saw her last."

"No, I didn't get to go. You guys made me stay home and work." Langly recalled the incident sulkily.

"That's because you were off on a regular bender and you weren't pulling your share. If you'd been a good boy, you could have gone," Frohike reminded him sternly.

"I'll be continuing to work," Byers assured him. "I know I've been traveling a fair bit lately."

"That's fine. Besides, Langly here can pick up some of the slack." Now Frohike was teasing him, but Langly wasn't seeing the humor, and he stuck his tongue out at Frohike.

"Langly, don't stick it out unless you intend to use it." I elbowed him gently. Byers blushed, and Frohike raised his eyebrows. I turned to them. "Trust me, the boy has talent you've not ever seen."

"And don't want to," Frohike mumbled.

"Speaking of which, what was that little gem Ellen handed you on the phone tonight, babe?"

"You've talked to Agent Sternberg?" Byers asked.

"She called tonight. She can't work our case, and we have agents already assigned to it, but Ellen is apparently a wellspring of gossip," I said.

"Oh? Do tell!" Frohike admonished.

Langly grinned. "Well, apparently, after Mulder and Diana ended it-"

"Who's Diana?" I interrupted.

"Diana is Mulder's ex-wife," Frohike stated, as if everyone knew that.

"Mulder's got an ex?"

"That he does," responded Frohike. "A short, and from all indications, a most unhappy union."

"Okay, so's Mulder's got an ex. What's Lowry got to do with this?"

"Agent Lowry? He's had some...difficulties in the agency due to the nature of his...sexual orientation." Frohike was trying to be delicate. And not succeeding very well.

"Okay, so big deal. Lowry can be a purple elephant with pink spots for all I care, so long as he can bring my sister-in-law back."

"Well, according to Ellen, he and Mulder had an affair after he split with Diana," Langly filled in the blank.

"What?!" Mulder struck me as one of the most heterosexual men I'd ever met. This was very strange, to say the least.

"You didn't know that?" Frohike asked mildly.

"No, we did not," Byers was being a little severe.

"You mean to tell us you knew this, and all this time you held back on a good piece of gossip?" Langly was very annoyed.

"It was very short-lived, maybe a couple weeks. Mulder was in...very poor shape at that time. It was about a year before the lovely Dana Scully began to make a human being out of him." Frohike then gave us the stern-father look. "And if you ever say anything to him about this, so help me, I'll kill you all."

"Oh, relax, Frohike. We're not gonna hassle him about it," Langly reassured him.

"Well, I don't think he's very proud of the fact that it happened. And for some time, it seemed as if Agent Lowry was carrying a torch for him. Things were...uncomfortable."

"I bet," Langly said shortly.

Byers just shook his head. I couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or amused or both.

"And there's another reason why you all are going to keep your mouths shut," Frohike admonished.

"Why's that?" Langly, perpetually curious about everything, both significant or insignificant.

"Because if I ever need to blackmail him with something, I want the leverage." Frohike grinned.

"Why do you think you'd need to blackmail Mulder?"

"If he ever complains about my charging his subscription-now my subscription-- to 'Celebrity Skin' on his Visa, I want to be able to remind him that he owes me." We all laughed.

"Ellen just likes gossip. I doubt she meant any harm, and she has a lot of respect for Mulder," I defended my friend.

"Ellen is an inveterate gossip. She should sometimes be more careful," Frohike grumbled. "But she is so hot. If she weren't married..."

"Down, Frohike. See what happens when you don't get in your annual trip to Vegas?" Langly waved a finger at him.

"Langly, had I gone to Vegas this year, I doubt that I'd have been concentrating on the showgirls." He looked sober. "Now, if you all don't mind, we have work to get done?"

END OF PART 27