Rating: PG. Insinuations of domestic violence.

Summary: A visitor...a decision. And some mushy stuff for the giz.

Spoilers: None.
 

"You're not drinking enough
To wash away old memories
And there ain't enough whiskey in Texas to keep you
From begging "Please please please."

"You're Not Drinking Enough" by Danny Kortchmar, Copyright 1984 Kortchmar Music and used without permission. (This is not usually one of my problems).
 

Hoc Habet
 

March 7, 2000

"Joanie?" He squeaked the word out.

"Yes, it's me." She stood up, and you could see the tears forming in her eyes. She began to move tentatively towards her little (very big?) brother.

"Joanie. You're in my house." Langly was still disbelieving.

"Yes, I am. Ringo." She went over to him, wrapped her arms tightly around him, and began to cry in earnest. For a moment, he just stood there, trying to comprehend what was happening.

Then he embraced her, hard, and I could tell that there was going to be a little eye seepage on his part.

I left the room. This was their moment.
 

When I returned, they were seated at the table, she clasping her brother's hands as though he were a life raft in the midst of a white water river. She was still weeping, but it had subsided, and her sobs were punctuated by periodic smiles. He continued to shake his head, disbelieving, but finally getting the picture.

"Joanie. Wow. You're really here." He blinked at her, and flashed one of his heart-melting smiles. Apparently the effect was not lost on her; she returned one that so mirrored his.

"This is a bit unbelievable for me, too." She smiled. "My baby brother, getting married. Owning a home. A stepdaughter. Ringo, I'd never have believed it when I last saw you."

"Well, it's really gonna happen." He smiled at her again. "So Joanie? How're you? You're looking...good." Langly was a crummy liar, but it was nice that he flattered her a little. She knew it, and he knew it, but it seemed to work for her.

"I'm...fine." She lied about as well as he did. I wanted to say, cut to the chase, Joan, but rushing her was a poor idea. I'd be rushing him as well, and I knew how well he'd respond to that.

"So how come you look so wrecked?" He looked at her with a childlike confusion. He wasn't being malicious.

"Langly, nothing like pumping up a girl's self-esteem," I chided him.

"No, it's all right," Joan assured me, possibly grateful for the opening. "Ringo...I shouldn't even be here, you know."

"That asshole husband of yours still hate my guts?" The thought almost seemed to amuse him.

She studied him, emotionless for a moment. I didn't think she was going to speak again.

Finally, she opened her mouth; her baby brother apparently remembered enough about her just to wait on her.

"I never told you what really happened, Ringo."

"Sure you did. I got sent to prison, Roy thought I was gonna poison your kids' minds or something. How are Chris and Jules?"

"Chris is...fine. Julie...lives in Washington state."

"What's she doing out there?"

"Studying. Living with someone." She bit back the words as though they had a bitter taste.

"Sounds like she's doing okay."

"I hope so. We don't...talk all that much."

"Let me guess. Roy disowned her." Langly actually had the gall to look smug; I sent him a warning shot to show a little sensitivity. Not that I'd shown a hell of a lot myself, but I can still chew him out when necessary.

"Well...he's not pleased with her, that much is for certain." Deep and real distress began to cloud her features, and she was looking every one of her 52 years.

"So what's Chris up to?"

"Chris is...Chris is his father's son." She sighed. She indicated she didn't want to elaborate.

"Too bad. Kid had potential." Langly smiled gently. "Seriously, Joanie. You okay? You're not looking so hot."

"Ringo, we need to talk." She brushed back a strand of her light hair. "I think after 13 years, I owe you that much."

"So tell me what's going on." He turned an eye towards me. "Ally, I could really use some coffee. And one of your smokes." I tossed the pack and the lighter on the table; Joan had already raided them previously, and she looked as though she could do it again. Which she did, following in her brother's motions. He lit hers for her. "When'd you start smoking again, Joanie? Thought Roy made you quit like a hundred years ago."

"I...sneak them every now and then." Obviously not too often; she had a hard time even getting the damn things lit. "What about you?"

"I don't make it a regularly scheduled event, if that's what you mean," he lit his, taking a drag and coughing a little.

Only when he's totally freaked, I wanted to add, but bit down on my tongue.

"Ringo...I do owe you an explanation."

"'Kay." I produced a heavily creamed and sugared concoction and placed it in front of him. I grabbed a beer from the fridge; it was past noon now.

"Ringo, it wasn't your just going to prison that made Roy so furious."

"Yeah, just everything else about me, too."

"No, baby brother...it wasn't just about you. In fact, I don't think it was mostly about you."

"This should be interesting." He slugged down a large hit of coffee.

Once again, she hesitated. This was a woman who had a hard time talking. She squeezed Langly's hands hard, nearly cutting off the circulation in them. It was interesting how very alike those hands were-long, spatulate fingers, beautifully shaped palms, snowy white skin, and those painfully chewed-up nails. This was a family that could seriously use a group manicure.

"Joanie?" She seemed to be lost in thought and embarrassment, and he prodded her gently.

"Ringo. When you were...getting in trouble...I was getting in trouble myself."

"Gee, Joanie, what'd you do, burn dinner or something?"

"No. Nothing like that." God, she even colored up like him-two huge bright spots on the cheeks.

"So what'd you do?" He looked intrigued-and worried.

"Something...really terrible."

"Jesus, Joanie, I can't imagine you doing something really terrible! You were always like so good."

"You can tell us, Joan," I coaxed gently. "We're not going to blab it all around." Except maybe to Byers, Frohike, Ellen, Dana...but they don't count for blabbing.

She gulped down hard. "Ringo, when you were having so many...problems-"

"Yeah, that's one way to put it," he interjected.

"I was going to leave Roy. I was having...an affair." The pink in her cheeks colored to deep crimson.

"I dunno, Joanie, I think cheating on Roy would be justifiable." He grinned.

"Ringo. You're getting married. How can you say such a thing?" She looked outraged.

"Look, Joanie, I didn't say cheating on your spouse was cool. I just figured Roy was an asshole then, he's probably one now. Now if you want me to bash you all up for doing this, go elsewhere. Not gonna happen here. Not at least till you tell me what went down."

She looked down at her hands. I noticed she had numerous rings, all with diamonds, and all of them looked pretty damn real. Made my peridot look...

Classy. Understated. Tasteful.

"Roy found out about it."

"Okay." Langly nodded at her, not judging her, just urging her to continue.

"I told him I wanted out of the marriage."

"Well, you're still there. What happened?"

"Roy looks down upon divorce. You know he's a very deeply religious man-"

"Yeah, and he uses it to keep you down, obviously." Langly's voice had a note of irritation to it.

"Roy didn't want me to leave. And he said if I did, he'd make sure I never saw Julie and Chris again. And he wanted us to start over."

"Okay. So he made a big deal about how righteous he was to forgive the fallen woman-"

"Langly, shut up." Sometimes he just needed to be reined in.

Joan went on. "We went to L'Abri in Switzerland for some...counseling."

"Hey, marriage counseling's a growth industry in this country, what's the problem?"

She buried her face in her hands and started to cry again. "I've tried. I've kept it up all this time. I pretended I'd been 'rehabilitated' and all. I just...don't love him anymore. I haven't for a long time."

"So why're you doing this to yourself?" Langly looked utterly mystified.

"Roy...is in a position where a divorce would be very embarrassing for him."

"Gonna have to do better than that, Joanie." He shook his long hair.

"Ringo, you don't understand...I just can't do it." She looked utterly defeated. "And he's going to be very upset that you're marrying a Jewish girl."

"He's never even met me," I protested.

"Roy...feels that Jewish control of the media, the medical establishment, the schools...is completely out of control. So he wouldn't have to meet you. It's your religion that's the problem."

"Well, Joanie, I hate to tell you this, but me and Ally are getting married by a rabbi."

"Are you saying you won't be in the wedding?" I asked her softly. I couldn't keep the disappointment out of my voice.

"No...no. I want to. I'm flattered that you asked me. It's just...I don't think Roy will let me."

"Fuck Roy," Langly spat. "What's he do, keep you under 24/7 surveillance?"

"Just about," she sighed in anguish. "Ever since...the affair, he doesn't trust me. I basically can't go anywhere but to work and do errands, and I have to account for my time to him."

"You gotta be kidding," Langly shook his locks in amazement. "I'd leave the bastard."

"Ringo, he is my husband...and he has a certain...image to maintain. I married him. I made my own bed. I have to lie in it."

Langly began to laugh bitterly. "Joanie, I don't believe this. Are you really my sister, or some impostor you sent to fuck with my brain?"

"Ringo, your language is as bad-"

"Look, I don't need the lecture, okay? So tell me how the hell you got out today."

"Roy is out of town. He travels fairly often. It allows me to maintain my sanity."

"So send him on a permanent vacation," Langly barked.

"You have no idea how many times I've thought of...faking my own death, like in "Sleeping with the Enemy"...did you ever see that movie? Roy would have a fit if he knew I did."

"What, saw the movie or faked your own death?"

For some reason, Joan thought this was funny, and she laughed. I didn't see the humor in it at all. This was a woman going over the edge, and it wasn't pretty to see.

We were all quiet, awkwardly so. Finally Langly broke the silence.

"Joanie, why'd you come see me?" The voice was childlike and pleading, but there was a rough edge to it, like a blunt knife.

She buried her pretty but haggard face in her hands. "I don't know, Ringo. I wanted to see you so bad...and I thought..."

"You thought what?" he demanded sharply.

"Thought you could maybe help me...I don't think I can live like this anymore. I don't know. I know I shouldn't be thinking along these lines. I made the commitment, I should keep it...I'd like to start divorce preceedings against him. But it will be very...ugly if I do-"

"So? It's gonna be ugly. Your life sounds pretty ugly, big sister." He wandered to the coffee pot, poured another cup, and grabbed another cigarette. "Look, I'll help you, Joanie. I'll do whatever you want. But you gotta decide."

The doorbell rang, and the girls emerged from the dungeon to answer it. I could hear the voices of Dana and Ellen, laughing and greeting the girls as though they were about to go on a girls' day out, which, of course, they were.

"My mom's in the kitchen, come on out," I heard Miranda tell them. Soon the kitchen, which is not a large room, was completely full of people.

"Whoa, Scully, you look great," Langly admired. And she did. Dressed in an emerald green tunic, black leggings and black boots, her hair wavy and longer than it was when she worked at the Bureau, she did look stunning. Dana smiled at him, simply saying thank you. At least the girl had learned to accept a compliment. She'd gotten so much more relaxed in recent  months. She'd never be a big-time party girl, but she seemed so much more at ease with things now.

"And what am I, chopped liver?" Ellen barked out to him, then leaned over to pat his blonde head. "What's up, Blonde One? You look like shit."

"Thanks, Ellen, you always do wonders for my ego. Hey, this is my sister Joan. Joan, this is Dana Scully, and this is Ellen Sternberg, and the two rugrats are Miranda, she's got the longer dark hair, and Shelby's the other one."

"Hello." Joan was very subdued, but she smiled courteously.

"Langly, I didn't know you had a sister," Dana said to him, looking a bit curious.

"Yeah, well, I do. And she's going shopping with you. Right, Joanie?" He smiled, but his eyes were hard. He expected her to make a decision, and make it now. I thought it a bit harsh, but maybe that's what she needed.

"So like does that make you my aunt?" Miranda studied her.

"Yes, it would," I informed her.

"So, if you're my Aunt Joan, and you're supposed to be in this wedding, don't you think you ought to get ready? We're going out to get dresses this afternoon. We want everyone's color to match, but it's okay if you don't want the same style as everyone. Not everybody looks good in the same thing."

"Where are you going?" Joan asked anxiously.

"Thought we'd start at Falls Church Mall, and work our way out from there," Ellen announced. Miranda may be in charge of coordinating, but Ellen had one thing she didn't: a drivers' license. That seemed to arouse a great deal of anxiety in Joan.

"What's wrong, you hate the mall?" Miranda asked disbelievingly.

"No...no. I shop there all the time. It's just...a lot of women from our church shop there..."

"So then they'd expect you to be out shopping," Langly was reading her concerns more correctly in this case. "Look, would you feel better if a guy came with you?"

"Yes. No. I don't know. Maybe. Were you going to come, Ringo?"

"Me? No fucking way. Byers is out back. I'll ask him."

"Langly, John probably isn't up to-" but he was out the door before I could finish my sentence.   He didn't have his keys, and it was cold and he was barefoot, and I could hear him pounding away at the door. Finally Byers got up and answered. I couldn't hear them conversing, but a few minutes later, Byers appeared at the door. Even with some hair growing in, and being a
good 20 pounds underweight, he was still a hot little number, and the fact that he had on jeans and a sweater did not allow this fact to go unnoticed by Dana and Ellen.

"Hello, I'm John," he shook hands with Joan. "Langly here felt you might feel better shopping with some...accompaniment."

"You up for this?" I demanded. He still looked like shit, even if he was a hot little number; the dark circles were taking up about half his face.

"I'll be fine. Are you ready?" He offered his arm to Joan. She hesitated.

"C'mon, ladies, we haven't got all day," Ellen barked out.

Finally, Joan rose up from the table. "Okay."

As they began to file out, Dana turned to Langly. "I believe you owe my husband some money."

"Yeah, well, he can wait."

"Langly." Dana passed him a Look. "Pay up."

He did.
 

"Better that you gave it to Dana. He can't piss it away, then," I consoled Langly, who didn't particularly relish explaining to Mulder that he'd just paid off his wife for a bet he'd won.

"Never stopped him before." He leaned against the counter. "Goddamn, Ally, this is just too freaky."

"What, Joan being here and all?"

"Yeah. At least she's gonna be in the wedding."

"I dunno, babe. I think she could still bail on us."

"She could. But she's not gonna. 'Sides, she'll be back."

"How do you know?"

"Byers drove. So she's gotta come back for her car. And she's not going anywhere till she agrees she's gonna unload that slimeball husband of hers."

"Langly, she may not be ready to do that."

He eyed me, hard. "She's ready. Look at her, Ally, I hardly even recognize her! She's a basket case!"

"She is pretty much of a wreck. What is with this guy, anyway?"

"Well, haven't seem him in a while-which is the good part-but he was always like, he always wanted Joanie doing everything he told her to do, like she was supposed to listen to every word he says or something, and he was like-I think when she was going with him he was like real attentive and stuff, and she fell for it, but after she got married to him...it's like Joanie was
gone. And I think he hits her, too."

"Ever seen him do it?"

"Nope. But I bet he does."

"Any evidence that he does? She ever had some weird injuries and stuff?"

"Couple times. I don't think he does it on as a regularly scheduled activity. But I think he loses it and he can't deal with it and he just lets off on her." He was seated on the countertop now, finishing off some coffee. "But he's not gonna do it anymore. Not if I have anything to say about it."

"You think she's serious about leaving him?"

"Well, she came to see me, didn't she?"

"Langly, she misses you, that much is obvious. That doesn't have anything to do with her husband."

"You're wrong, it's got everything to do with him." He had a dark expression on his face. "And when she comes back tonight, we're gonna come up with a plan."

"Langly, don't push her."

"She needs a push."

"Yeah, but don't kick her over the side of the cliff."

He leaned his head back on the cupboard. "Her husband...is a real good argument for being an atheist."

"Born again type?"

"Doesn't sound like that's changed. Yeah, and I'll bet he's got her brainwashed with all the scripture crap he feeds her. He's been feeding her lines all her adult life. Started in when he was going with her."

He jumped down from the counter. "And it stops. Here and now."

I put my arm around his waist. "Just be careful, baby. Don't do something she really doesn't want you to do."

"Who, me?" the childlike smile reappeared.

"Yes, you." I snuggled up to him. "Why don't you take a shower and I'll go work on your database project."

"Better idea. We've got the place to ourselves. Why don't you join me?" He shook his head. "This day's been a little more real than I'd like. How about a few fantasies?"

I couldn't argue with that.

END OF PART 72