Classification: TRHA

Rating: PG

Summary: Need help? You can always count on Mrs. Scully when the going gets tough...used car dealers are another matter.

Spoilers: Small one for "Fight the Future."

Disclaimer: Property of 1013 Productions and Fox Television until they realize the truth of the matter.
 

"While you were sleeping with the angels
He was under the bed and the more that you shed
The more that the air in your throat will linger
When you call him your friend..."

"Crowing" by Glen Phillips and Toad the Wet Sprocket. Copyright 1994 Sony Tunes. Used without permission.
 

Homotechnos
 

December 16, 1999

I dozed off on the very short trip home, and I found it difficult to even work my way out of the Buick. Langly walked me  inside, arm around my good shoulder, and murmuring things I couldn't make out but were comforting all the same.

I made the mistake of trying to fall into the sofa. I gave a yell.

"I think you need to practice," Langly observed. "And I need my jacket back. I did get pretty cold out there." I hadn't noticed, but he was a bit blue. "Sit up."

That was even worse than trying to lie down. This sucked.

"I'm freezing," I mumbled. I was sitting on the sofa wearing just my bra above the waist, which only was partially on, and I  was definitely nippy. "And I need a shower."

"This is gonna have to do." He came out with one of his old blue denim workshirts-he only had 3 of them. We weren't going  to get a lot of mileage out of them. He wrapped the shirt over my injured arm and slipped my good arm through the other sleeve, buttoning the buttons. God, this was insane.

"Langly, I have to get in the shower," I protested. "I'm filthy. And my hair needs washing."

"Uh, wrong again, girl. You're not supposed to take a shower yet. You gotta keep the cast dry, and you can't get the stitches wet." I started crying again, this time in anger.

"Look, I feel like my skin is crawling. I've gotta take a shower or I'll go insane!"

He rolled his eyes. "Whaddya want me to do, Ally?"

"Well, you could get in the shower with me."

"Did you hear a word I said? You can't get the cast wet, you can't get the stitches wet. My getting in with you, and believe me, it's not an unattractive proposition, is not about to alter the fundamental facts of the universe here."

"I can't live like this!" I warned.

He paced for a moment. "Okay, tell you what. I'll fill the tub. You gotta keep your head dry where the stitches are, and I'll wrap up your cast a la Hefty bag. You're not supposed to take the sling off yet, but you can keep your arm on the edge, and you should be okay. Okay?"

"Thank you," I sniffed gratefully.

Langly let the water run while he covered my arm with a large trash bag. "Not going to make a fashion statement, but it'll have to do. Should keep it dry, though." He peeled off the rest of my clothes.

Once in the hot water, which he'd thoughtfully scented with my favorite apple scented bubble bath, I felt much more human. I closed my eyes and tried to lean back. At least the stitches were in the front, but my head was still killing me.

"Here." He'd rolled up a towel and stuck it under my neck.

"Anyone ever tell you you're wonderful?" I mumbled.

"Hey, I'm just a resourceful kind of guy," he shrugged, but he was smiling too.

"Langly...my contacts."

"You took 'em out. Don't you remember?"

"No." But I was grateful I had.

"They're in my wallet. You probably want to skip 'em for now. I'll get your specs."

"I got 'em out, you said."

"Yeah, but I had to help you."

"Sorry, babe. I don't remember."

"'S'okay. At least you didn't wake up with them still in." I remembered that incident. He grinned wickedly. "You didn't think I wanted to go through that again, do you?"

"You. Are. Terrible." But I smiled at him. "This is so great. I could stay here forever. Or at least till I fall asleep."

"God, you are so little," he marveled. "And delicious."

"Please. I'm missing a chunk of hair and I've got a big old fucking cast on."

"No big deal. You still look very tasty to me."

"You could come in," I invited.

"Not today. Besides, I think we'd have a hard time fitting."

"Get a spa on the honeymoon. Both of us can fit."

"I could do that," he concurred. "So where do you wanna go?"

"I think Manzanillo would be cool."

"You don't think you could get behind some place like Alaska or British Columbia?"

"Too damn cold. I love the tropics. Don't you know, Jews only vacation on tropical islands?"

"I think I read that in "Jewish as a Second Language."" He laughed. Miranda had given him the guide as a Hanukkah gift, and  he'd been enjoying it immensely. "Okay, girl, out now. I gotta get your scrip filled, and I gotta go see Frohike."

"I thought we were both going," I said petulantly.

"Not today. I think you oughta sleep."

"And what about, what was that guy's name?"

"Crazy Jaleel. We can see him later on or tomorrow."

"I'd really like to see Frohike," I protested.

"Ally, no. He's gonna get real upset if he sees you like this."

"I'm going to be like this for a while, I might point out."

"Just let it ride for now, okay, Ally?" He was almost pleading now. "Really. Let me tell him first. Then you can see him tomorrow. Okay?"

"Fine. I guess," I was not pleased.

"C'mon, let's find you something to wear."
 

Langly had helped me into his workshirt, a pair of black leggings (I have an ample supply-there are just wardrobe basics you should never run out of), and a pair of warm socks. He stuffed me into bed, putting a couple of water bottles and my cigarettes and the ashtray near me.

"Try to be reasonably awake if you're gonna smoke," he warned. "I mean, I'd rather you didn't, but I know you're gonna go prowling all over for 'em, so might as well have 'em nearby."

"Please tell Frohike I love him," I muttered as I was drifting down.

"He knows. But I'll tell him anyway."

The next time I became aware of anything was when I spotted two teenage girls hopping onto the bed. I'd been out for quite a while.

"Mommy, how are you?" Miranda leaned over and kissed me.

"Can we get you something?" Shelby asked.

"I don't know. You could throw in some laundry, though." Nearsighted as I am, I could see the pileup of clothing in the laundry basket.

"Done." Shelby jumped down and gathered up the basket.

"Want me to put on a movie for you?" Miranda asked.

"You can. I'm not sure I can stay awake through it, but if you guys want to come in and do your homework in here, I'll watch it with you."

"Okay, that works." Miranda left to locate a movie, returning shortly with a cassette in one hand. "You don't mind 'Scream,' do you?"

"You mean, just because I know every line of dialogue in it? No, that's fine. Watch what you like."

"Where's Langly? He told us to take the regular bus home and not go to study hall. I thought he was gonna be here."

"He's got stuff to do. I think he's with Frohike."

"When are we gonna get to see Frohike?"

"Soon." I really wasn't sure when they could see him, but I didn't want them going right now. Not yet.

"How come Langly's not here?" Shelby asked when she returned.

"He's probably with Frohike."

"And he's not taking care of you?"

"He took care of me all morning. All I've done is sleep since he's left, so it's not like he'd have a lot to do, anyway." I felt the Vicodins beginning to wear off. "Miranda honey, I need another Vicodin, they're in the bathroom, if you'd bring me two of them?"

"Okay." She came back with the white pills. "Sure you wouldn't rather have a drink?" She teased.

"I would, but I don't think anyone's recommending tequila as a medicinal treatment right now. Can you grab me the phone before you start the movie? I need to call my boss."

It took me a few moments to remember Joanna's number, which I ordinarily can dial without looking. I punched in the digits slowly. I'd probably get her voice mail, anyway.

"Joanna Gilfillan." She actually picked up.

"Joanna, it's Allison."

"Allison, I thought you'd be home on break."

"I am home on break. Listen Joanna, I got in a car accident last night, and I got hurt. I broke my left arm."

"I see." She paused. "How long a recovery time are you looking at?"

"About six weeks."

"I see." She was grating on me. "The next three weeks are free of class work, but then that takes us into the next semester..." she gave a martyred sigh. "I guess I'm going to have to get a temporary until you can join us again...this is very difficult...I'm sorry you were hurt. Do you need anything?"

"I'm all right. I've got my family here."

"Oh, good. Would you like me to stop by?"

What do you say to your boss? No, don't show your face at my house? I went for diplomatic.

"Don't feel like you have to, Joanna. I appreciate the thought."

"Nonsense. I'll come by tomorrow evening. I can bring some dinner if you'd like."

Who took my boss and what did you do with her, I thought. This was Joanna? The Vicodins were more powerful than I thought.

"Actually, that'd be really nice...we're all kind of busy here...one of our best friends suffered a heart attack late Saturday night."

"Oh, my. Is he being treated nearby?"

"VA in Fairfax."

"I live in Fairfax. It's not far. Is there anything you'd like me to do?"

"No...just bringing some dinner tomorrow night would be great."

"I've done some vocational rehab volunteering at the VA. I'm very familiar with the place." My God. My boss, whiny Joanna, actually did volunteer work? I'd found out more about this woman in the last five minutes than in the five months since she'd hired me.

"I hope it's a good place," I said, praying she wouldn't say to get him the hell out of there as rapidly as possible.

"He'll be well cared for there. Where were you taken?"

"The Alexandria Hospital."

"Now that place I'd stay away from." And she didn't laugh. But Joanna usually didn't.

"Well, I wasn't in great shape at the time, and I guess my HMO said it was okay," I said weakly.

"As long as you're all right. Get some rest, Allison, I'll see you tomorrow night."

I clicked off the talk button. "Wow. Maybe I was wrong about her all along."

"About your boss?" Miranda asked, pausing the tape so that they wouldn't miss a moment of dialogue.

"Yeah, about my boss. You get to meet her tomorrow night. She's bringing dinner."

"Well, now I can tell for sure if she's a loser or not," Miranda stated firmly. "Speaking of food, we are like totally out."

"Call Langly on the cell and tell him you need groceries. I can't deal with this right now." I drifted back down.
 

When I awoke very much later, I could have sworn I saw the ghost of Maggie Scully standing in my room. Only it wasn't a ghost. It was Maggie Scully, in the flesh, putting laundry away.

"Mrs. Scully? Maggie?" My mouth felt very dry.

"Oh, you're awake," she said softly.

"What're you doing here?" That came out all wrong.

"Well, Dana called me and told me what happened, and I talked to your young man and came over."

"Wow. That was really nice. We could use the help right now."

"It's no bother."

"Did you see Frohike yet?" I asked her.

"I'm sorry, dear, speak up a bit?"

"Did you see Frohike yet?"

"Yes, I did. I went with Fox tonight for a short time. He's so totally exhausted, but I think he's doing all right. They plan to move him to telemetry tomorrow, and that's a step in the right direction."

"I miss him. I feel so bad..."

"Allison, what are you feeling guilty about? That is ridiculous."

"Sorry, it's the Jewish thing."

"Allison, let me tell you something. Irish Catholic guilt beats Jewish guilt hands down every time. So don't get into it with me." Her tone was both teasing and firm.

"Is Langly here?" I asked.

"He and Byers and Frohike's son-Michael, is that his name?-are out in the offices, as they call your garage, working."

"Yeah, the Christmas issue. God, I'm sorry. You're probably all busy getting ready for Christmas."

"Allison, I can certainly take a few hours out to help somebody out. Now let me get you some dinner."

"I'm not very hungry, Maggie. My stomach sort of hurts."

"We'll go with some soup, then. That chowder you made was lovely, by the way. The girls and I finished it up at dinner, but we saved you a bowl."

"Okay." You don't argue with Mrs. Scully. "Maybe some Canada Dry, too?" I knew I was under the weather; I only do soda when I'm dying. "I'd like to get up for a while."

"Here, I'll help you. Slow. You're probably more lightheaded than you think." She took my good arm and helped me up. She stood nearby and helped me get to the kitchen.

It was amazing what kind of transformation a place could have after only a short time with Maggie Scully. The kitchen was immaculate; all the glasses and bowls and various and sundry items that ordinarily litter the place were all clean and put away. Walking through the living room, I noticed it had been tidier than when I'd arrived home this morning. Now if she'd gotten the girls to clean their room...

She placed a bowl of soup in front of me, and a glass of Canada Dry, on ice. "Would you like anything else?"

"No, this is fine. Thank you for doing all this. It's really nice of you."

"Don't be silly. Dana told me about all the help you've given her...about how helpful you were with the hospital staff when Fox was having trouble with the signing, and how you've helped her accept her disability..."

"Dana's deaf. She's not disabled." I don't know where that came from, but it came out anyway.

"You know, I think you're right. She certainly doesn't act disabled."

"She's a tough lady."

"Not as tough as you'd think sometimes. But she seems so happy these days."

"I think Rebecca has a lot to do with that."

"Yes, she does, and she's a love. But Dana doesn't act like a person with a disability. She just moves on. She's talking about changing jobs. I think she mentioned that to you."

"Yeah, she doesn't seem disabled. I think right now I feel more disabled," I grinned ruefully, trying to eat with my right hand. "I'd like to work with her again. It'd be fun."

"Well, I know she'd enjoy it. Fox seems to be of two minds right now. I know he'd like to keep working with her...but their situation has changed a great deal. And I think for the better."

"You'd rather Dana be out of law enforcement," I stated.

"I would. She's been through so much. It's time for her to have some happiness. And she has it. I'd hate for her to lose it."

"She wants to spend more time with Rebecca, I know that. But she still needs to work. I know the feeling. I've never not worked."

"And I know you're very dependent on your hands for what you do, which is going to be difficult for you for a while."

"And it's like everyone has to take care of me right now, and I'm sort of used to taking care of them."

"Allison? Take some advice. Let them take care of you once in a while. It will do them good. And you. I know."

Footsteps came in through the back door and up the stairs. "Thought I smelled food-hey, look who's back among the living!" Langly came over and put his arms around me from behind. "How're ya doing?" He looked down at me.

"Surviving. I see the grapevine moves rapidly," I pointed to Mrs. Scully.

"Yeah, well, she offered, and I jumped on it. Thanks, Mrs. Scully," he sang out.

"You're very welcome. Are you hungry?"

I giggled. "He's always hungry."

"You wouldn't know, to look at him." She shook her head and began to mill about in the fridge. I noticed it had been generously stocked.

She made him a sandwich, and announced that she was going to check on the girls.

"You feeling any better?" he asked between bites.

"Some. I still feel like I got hit by a truck."

"Probably 'cause you were."

"How's Frohike?"

"He's okay. He woke up for a little tonight. We talked to him a bit. He's supposedly getting moved tomorrow."

"So Maggie said. Thanks for hitting the market."

"Thank Byers. He went."

"That was really nice. I will thank him, and I hope you did."

"Hey, I did!" He looked affronted.

"How's Michael?"

"Welllll...Michael is...he's holding together okay, sorta. He's not doing real well with this. I think he's pretty upset."

"Understandably so. Is Frohike in the mood for company yet?"

"A little. Not a lot. I told him what happened to you. He's sorta worried, but I told him not to, you'd be fine."

"Well, I will be. I do have a problem, though."

"What's that?"

"I don't have much I can wear up top."

"Hmm. My shirts would fit you."

"Most of yours go over the head. Not gonna work right now."

"Yeah, you're right. Maybe Byers has some stuff you can borrow."

"John? You'd raid his wardrobe?"

"Sure, why not? Mulder's done it. Did I ever tell you about the time before Mulder went off to Antarctica, he was in the hospital-which is pretty much SOP for Mulder-and he took Byers's clothes so he could sneak out?"

"No, you didn't," I laughed.

"Yeah, it was pretty weird."

"How'd you get Byers out without any clothes?"

"Stole him some scrubs." I giggled. "Anyway, he's about my size, maybe he's got some stuff you can borrow."

"Only if he doesn't mind. And if he doesn't use too much starch."

"Can't promise you the second part, but I'll bet he'll be cool with the first."

"How about the Christmas issue?"

"Should be good. Got Renegade to do a guest piece. Not the same without Frohike, though." He looked wistful.

"I think I need to go back to sleep. I'm starting to hurt again." I looked up at him pleadingly. "Tuck me in?"

"Sure." He helped me up and hugged me as he got me down the hall and back into bed.

"Excuse me, I think I need to brush my teeth first."

"Can you do that right-handed?"

"That I can manage."
 

I got a special treat that night. Langly had found Eric's guitar sometime back and had put new strings on it. I hadn't heard him play much, but tonight he treated me to a version of "Miss Misery," and I loved it. He wasn't Grammy material, but he wasn't bad. And it was a sweet gesture.

"I do want to see Frohike tomorrow," I reminded him sleepily.

"We will. And I talked to Crazy Jaleel tonight. We'll go catch him, too."

"I think I need to look at cars." I was drifting down again, but I'm nothing if not compulsive.

"Well, that's why we're seeing Crazy Jaleel."

"Oh. You coming to bed soon?" I asked.

"In a while. Need to get some more work done on the magazine, and I've gotta get into DC tomorrow."

"How're we gonna see Crazy Jaleel?" My brain was addled.

"That's what lunch hours are for. Now go to sleep." He hugged me gently, making sure my injured arm was positioned properly.

I never even heard the door close behind him, that's how fast I went down.
 
 

December 17, 1999

I felt much better the following morning. I was up very early, as was my norm, and I while I couldn't offer a lot of practical assistance, I was able to get the girls to move on out the door, and I managed to make coffee with my right hand and not destroy the coffee maker in the process.

Maggie Scully left a note saying she would be back in a couple of days, but to call her if I needed anything. She had left my house clean and comfortable, and she'd prepared a few dishes that she'd stuck in the freezer. That woman was nothing if not organized.

I forced Langly to do the bathtub trick again with me. He asked if I could wait until after work, but after explaining to him that I do not appear in public without having bathed, he relented.

"And the view is pretty good," he commented. "But you've gotta get out now, 'cause I gotta get to work."

"Oh, just one more minute," I whined.

"Ally. One more minute and not only will I not get to work anywhere near on time, but I will be forced to jump your bones, and I think that would hurt right now."

"You could try," I whined some more.

"Later we'll conduct an experiment in positions that work with one party having a damaged limb. Right now, I gotta get to work. And we have to meet Crazy Jaleel at one. So I've gotta haul some ass here."

"And it's an incredibly cute one," I assured him as he helped me dry off.

"You are an evil woman," he shook his head, but I caught him smiling.
 

I overestimated the amount of energy I had; I fell asleep on the sofa shortly after Langly was out of the house. I didn't wake up again for several hours.

Byers's car was in the driveway; I went out to the offices and knocked on the door with my good hand.

"Oh, Ally, I forgot. Keys are probably a hardship right now. Come in." He was alone.

"Where's Michael?"

"He worked very late. He's probably still in bed. Where you probably should be."

"That was yesterday. This is today. I've been sleeping since everyone left, anyway."

"Well, you had a mild concussion, and you shouldn't screw around with it."

"I'm not. All I do is sleep, anyway. That, and have people wait on me. God, I can't even cook dinner!"

"Ally, try to relax a little. I know it's hard. You always take good care of us. Let us take care of you for a change." He got up. "Speaking of which, I have something for you." Inside of a nylon duffel bag was a stack of carefully folded shirts that were faded but very clean. "Some golden oldies that I had planned to give to the Goodwill, but never seemed to get around to. Now I know why."

"Thank you very much. Nothing much I have fits over the sling. God, the last time I had a sling, I was seven years old and I'd fallen off my bike. I broke my collarbone. I don't remember feeling like this, though."

"I broke my arm one time. Playing softball."

"Which one?"

"Left one. Which wasn't so bad, since I'm right-handed. You, unfortunately, have temporarily lost your dominant hand."

"And I had two medical people tell me I was lucky because it was my left arm. How much of the population is left-handed, anyway? I thought it was about 10 percent."

"That sounds about right. So the numbers aren't insignificant, but it's still a statistical minority." College professor mode. "Let's see your fingers."

I hadn't really looked at them, but when Byers decided to check them out, I really eyed them for the first time since the accident. They were huge and purple.

"They had to cut my ring away," I said sadly.

"I know. Langly saved the stone. It's not a problem to have it reset. Think of it as getting your engagement ring twice."

"When are you going to see Frohike?" I asked him.

"In a short while. Would you like to come?"

"I would, but I have to be back here at 12:30."

"We won't stay very long. I think having guests for any length of time is very taxing for him right now. We'll just see how he's doing, and I know he was worried about you."

"Him worrying about me. That's rich. He's had a heart attack and he's worrying about me?"

"Ally, there are three of us, right? Unless you count Michael, and I can't say I'm ready to accept him unequivocably yet."

"Right." I wasn't sure what he was getting at.

"I'm the mind of the Lone Gunmen. I live in the realm of things mental. Langly, he's the spirit, the ephemeral. And Frohike, he's the heart and soul."

"Yeah." I'd never thought of it that way before, but it did seem to fit. "It seems especially unfair that his has been injured."

"Yes, it does. Why don't we get ready to go over and see him? It won't take long, and you'll be home in plenty of time to meet Crazy Jaleel. You're in for a treat."

"I got the impression he was a used car salesman."

"That's what he does. What he is is...something quite different. Anyway, he is a delight. You'll enjoy him."

"Is he as weird as you guys?" I kidded.

"Weirder than us. Not as weird as Mulder."

"So somewhere out in the twisted layer of the ozone."

"Something like that. Let's see Frohike."
 

Frohike had been moved to telemetry, meaning he was not out of the woods yet, but he had improved and was able to be moved from CCU.

He was still connected to a lot of devices, but they numbered fewer than they had in the CCU. And even more delightful, he was awake when we came in.

"Well, hello, pretty lady," he greeted me.

I laughed as I leaned over to kiss him. "Not very pretty right now, I'm afraid."

"Don't be silly, my dear. You look fine."

"That's because you don't have your glasses on, Frohike." I laughed. "I'm sorry I didn't get to see you yesterday. I was kind of out of it."

"As was I. How're you feeling now?"

"Better. And what about you?"

"Better than I was. I'm still far too tired for my liking, but this is an improvement over the last couple of days."

"You look better than when I saw you on Sunday."

He smiled a little. "On Sunday, I wasn't certain if I was alive or dead. You and the Blonde Boy were there, I remember that."

"Yes, we were."

"Have you seen Michael today?"

"Michael worked most of the night. He was asleep when we left," Byers explained.

"Good. Better than having him sitting around and annoying me." Frohike smiled a bit. "But just the same, I'm glad to have him around." He turned serious again. "Believe me, I have no illusions as to why he came down in the first place. But I do think he's coming along, don't you?"

"He is," Byers conceded.

"Langly and Byers say that as long as he runs spellcheck, he can write pretty well," I stated, looking for something positive.

"He has talent. I do wish he'd find some...direction," Frohike sighed. I was amazed. Frohike had just suffered a life-threatening injury, and he was worried about his son. I laughed to myself because I did the same thing.

"It's hard not to be a parent once you've been one," I laughed.

"It's impossible," Frohike conceded.

"Is that why you nag all of us?" Byers was grinning.

"It is." Frohike grinned. "Are you going to your sister's?"

"I'm leaving in about three days, but I'll be back the day after Christmas."

"I thought you were...going on vacation after Christmas," I pricked up.

"Well, I explained the situation to Juliet, and she suggested she come down here instead. So she will be here, and you'll meet her."

"Oh, my." Frohike smiled. "I can't wait."

"She is, as you would say...really hot." Byers had the grace to blush a little.

"Now I really can't wait." Frohike grinned lasciviously. I smiled. He was getting back to his old self. He turned his head to me slightly. "How are the young ladies?"

"They're fine. They want to come see you."

He frowned a bit. "No disrespect intended for the young ladies, but I'd prefer if they perhaps waited a bit."

"I understand," I nodded. "I think they will, too." No, they wouldn't, but too bad. They were going to honor his request, like it or not.

"Mrs. Scully has offered some...assistance when you're released," Byers informed Frohike.

"Let's see how it goes, all right? And as much as I'm enjoying our little visit here, I have to throw you two out, as I'm scheduled for another round of torture tests in a short while." He groaned. "And it's not a spectator sport."
 

God, was I condemned to fall asleep every time I exerted myself even mildly? I'd passed out on the sofa when I got home; my arm was hurting miserably and my headache had pumped up the volume. I was not in a happy mood when Michael came and shook me.

"Al'son, I wanna go see my dad. Can I borrow your car?"

I blinked irritably at him. "Michael. In case you've been oblivious to the events of the past few days, my car is an historical artifact at this point, destined to become part of the great junkyard in the sky."

"Oh. Yeah. I was there, wasn't I?" I had to feel sorry for the poor kid. Between working his balls off and worrying about Frohike, he was probably lost somewhere in the ozone.

"Yes, you were. And you need to do something about yours. This place is beginning to look like a used car lot."

"Help if your old man would put his back together."

"It would, but he's been a little preoccupied lately."

"I oughta do it for him. Of course, if I do, he has to let me drive it."

"Take it up with him," I told him. "Anyway, your dad is having a bunch of tests this afternoon, and he's made it clear that we're not to bother him at that time. John'll go back later. Catch a ride with him."

"All right, all right." He walked off.

Langly appeared as he was walking out. "C'mon, I'm late. Let's haul some butt here," he greeted me.

"Late for what?" I asked.

"We have to see Crazy Jaleel," he looked at me as if I'd gone stupid.

"To look at cars? What's the appointment for?"

"Well, Jaleel...let's go. You'll see."
 

We drove to the outskirts of Silver Springs, Maryland. It's a nice place to live, but on the outside of town, the motif becomes a bit...shall we say, seedy? We pulled into a huge, rundown-appearing lot packed with vehicles of all persuasions.

"Doesn't this guy advertise on late-night TV?" I asked Langly.

"Yeah. He's got some pretty cool commercials."

"Yeah, but I'll bet he never offered to eat a bug. Cal Worthington did."

"Cal Worthington. Isn't he LA?"

"Long Beach, LA area. Cal Worthington is a local legend there. With his dog Spot." In all the various commercials, his dog Spot is a different-and generally exotic-animal.

"Yeah, I think I might've seen him while I was vacationing in California."

We walked into a decrepit office where a flock of clerks manned a number of desks that made government issue look good. The computers, however, were state of the art, and the place hummed with activity. Which was interesting, because I'd seen no one on the lot.

We were greeted by a young man with dredlocks and a wide smile. Langly told him we were here to see Jaleel, and that we had an appointment.

"Hey, I know you!" He pointed at me. "You work with Paul!"

"You go to CU?" I was trying to place him.

"I see you in the calculus section with him." No wonder I was having trouble; the calculus section was huge. "I forget your name, though."

"It's Allison. And you are?"

"This is Mesfeen. He's Jaleel's nephew," explained Langly. "Ally's my fiancee, and she had an altercation with a Humvee the other night, so she needs a car."

"Then you've come to the right place," Mesfeen flashed that charismatic grin again. This guy had things waiting to happen for him, I thought. "Go on back. I'll grab you some coffee."

"Thanks, we'll pass," Langly told him.

"No, I insist," Mesfeen was off and running.

Langly bent over and whispered in my ear, "Pretend to drink the coffee, but don't really do it, know what I mean?"

"You mean it's possible that someone makes even worse coffee than you?" I was astounded.

"They're from Ethiopia. Stuff they make is like molasses. Nasty."

"Langly! How are you!" A tall, dapper man in a very expensive suit opened his arms and embraced Langly, not ordinarily much of a hugger with most people, and almost burned him with his unfiltered Camel. The man had a voice like music. I could listen to him all afternoon. It also occurred to me that I really needed a cigarette. "And this would be your young lady?"

"In the flesh. Ally, Jaleel. Jaleel, Ally." I extended my good hand, but he bent down and embraced me. Ouch. He didn't hug gently, but he was obviously a warm, good-humored man, and I could take a little pain.

"It's good to meet you. Do you mind if I smoke?" I asked him rhetorically.

"Please. Allow me." He lit my cigarette, which was really nice because I was currently finding lighting up to be a challenge. "Langly, what about you?"

"Thanks, I'll just breathe the air."

"Fine, fine. Mesfeen!" He called out to his nephew.

Mesfeen appeared with a tray with three demitasse cups of what looked like melted tar. I figured I should probably take Langly's warning seriously.

Jaleel drank his coffee in two gulps, lit another Camel, and placed his long, narrow hands on the desk. "Now, tell me what I can do for you two."

END OF PART 41