Rating: PG-13, and only for the shower scene, which is pretty damn tame, if you ask me.

Summary: 5...4...3

Spoilers: Nope.
 

"Friend, you have done me
kindness, like a father to his son
and I shall not forget your counsel ever.
You must get back to sea, I know, but come
Take a hot bath and rest; accept a gift
To make your heart lift up when you embark-
Some precious thing, and beautiful, from me,
A keepsake, such as dear friends give their friends."

Homer, "The Odyssey," Book One, Lines 355-362. Fitzgerald Translation. Used without permission.
 

Makarismos
 

May 15, 2000
T minus 5 hours and counting

"MOMMY!" I dreamed I heard my name being screamed, blood red and hysterical.

"God, I didn't drink that much," I muttered. I had only three beers...that I recalled, anyway.

"MOMMY! OPEN UP!" This dream was getting worse by the minute.

Langly must've been dreaming the same thing; I heard him stumble out of bed and walk clumsily across the floor.

"MOMMY!"

"Chill, Miranda, chill! Jesus fuck!" I blinked my eyes. I wasn't dreaming. My daughter was screeching in the hallway, probably waking the dead-which probably included everyone on the floor. Langly unlatched the door-I hoped he was decent.

"Mommy!" Miranda was howling hysterically as she came into the room.

"Miranda, Jesus fuck, you're gonna wake up everyone between here and DC!" Langly snarled at her. "Now chill out and tell us what the fuck your problem is!" Uh-oh. Somebody had a little too much to drink...and it wasn't me.

I sat up in bed and groped for my glasses.

"Mommy, our dresses!"

"What about your dresses?" I wasn't running on all cylinders yet. Dresses. Oh, yeah, bridesmaid dresses.

"Mommy, they're still in the drink at home! We didn't take 'em out of the dye! We're never gonna get 'em here on time, they're not gonna dry-"

A knock on the door. Well, we'd gotten three hours' sleep. Should be enough for any mere mortal to get by on, I thought sullenly.

"Ally? May I come in?" Jo's voice. Nervous, tentative. Miranda burst into a fresh storm of weeping.

"Let her in, Langly," I instructed, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I was wearing Langly's Soup Dragons T-shirt, which at least covered my ass.

"C'mon in. We're having a party," Langly muttered sarcastically.

"Ally, Langly, I am so sorry about this," she began. "I'll pay for the damage-"

"Whoa, slow down. Okay. You left the dresses at home in the bathtub-"

"And we forgot to take them out before we left. It's my fault, Ally, I'm so sorry-"

Another bang on the door. "Yeah!" Langly screamed out.

"It's Ellen. Lemme talk to the boss." I walked to the door this time and let Ellen in.

"God, all dressed up and no place to go," she commented, looking at Langly, with a still-bruised face, greasy hair slicked back into a loose ponytail, and wearing running shorts and a Rocky and Bullwinkle T-shirt; and me, wearing only Langly's T-shirt and with my vermillion hair going in five hundred directions.

"I assume you heard the news," Langly snapped. "Not like you could help it!" He glared at Miranda, and she gave him the finger. Thank God he didn't have his lenses in yet; he'd have been pissed had he seen it.

"Okay, just talked to Joan and Dana. Here's what we're gonna do. Miranda, stop crying," Ellen ordered.

"We can't do anything!" Miranda wailed.

Another knock, this time being Shelby. I let her in as well. "So what's we gonna do?"

"Okay, okay, just listen up." Ellen was being brisk, very much taking on the persona of the law enforcement officer she worked as, and working the group like they were a group of suspects. "Here's what's happening. Macy's has a 15-hour sale today. It's two blocks away, we're all gonna walk over there, and we're gonna get dresses. We're gonna have dresses no later than 11:00."

"We have hair appointments at 10!" Miranda continued in her hopeless vein.

"Can the hair appointments. We'll do our own hair-you're good at this, Miranda, so you're gonna show your stuff-and Shelby's gonna do our nails. Right, Shel?"

"Yep." Shelby seemed pleased with this particular role.

"Okay. So dresses, hair, nails. Got it, girls?"

"Ellen, I feel so terrible about this-" Jo began.

"Can it, Jo. If we hadn't been such brats in the first place and made such a big deal of it, we wouldn't have these problems. But we do. And we're gonna deal. Right, girls?" She eyed both Miranda and Shelby sternly. Then her face softened. "C'mon, you chicas can do this. You're tough. Let's go."

"Let me pay for the dresses," Jo offered.

"Fuck that. Let's just move on it, okay?"

I fished ten 20-dollar bills from my purse-I'd have to get traveling money tomorrow before we left-and stuffed them in Ellen's hand. Jo wouldn't use it, so she wasn't getting it. The four of them filed out.

Langly fell back on the bed, splaying his long limbs all over the place. "God, I hope that's the last crisis we have."

"Me, too."

"Do we have coffee?"

"Screw coffee, Langly. I need a Bloody Mary. I'm calling room service."

"Extra Tabasco," he called as I dialed.
 

We managed to get down a breakfast of Bloody Marys, English muffins, strawberries-and coffee. Apparently when we gave our room number, it was decided by the hotel staff that massive quantities of caffeine were needed.

"Hope they find something. I don't feel like dealing with that shit," Langly muttered.

"They haven't got a choice. And anyway, what's done is done. How're you feeling?"

"You got any Advil?"

"In my purse." I fished out the Advil. I had two left.

"Only two? I've got a killer headache."

"Two's better than nothing. Maybe my mother has some. She's one floor up."

"No, thank you. I'm not ready to face Eleanor yet." He slammed his face into the table. "Jesus! I only had four beers!"

"That was the floor party," I reminded him. "How many'd you have at Mitch's?"

"God...maybe 10? I'm not sure. A lot." He looked at me, begging sympathy. "Hey, the Orioles were playing!"

"And didn't they finally win?"

"In the 14th inning, yeah. We heard it on the radio on the way up."

"I'm taking a shower," I announced, stacking my dishes. I was about to pull off Langly's shirt when we heard a soft rap on the door.

"Yeah? Go away!" Langly shouted.

"Langly. I just need a minute," Frohike's voice was quiet.

"I'm timing you," Langly warned as he opened the door.

Frohike was carrying a plastic bag. "Here's your tux, Blonde Boy. There is a...small problem, however."

"What's that?" Langly demanded grouchily.

"Well...as you know, Michael and I are sharing a room..."

"Yeah?"

"Well, Michael overdid it a bit last night-"

"Michael was so fucking ripped he couldn't walk!" Langly spat out.

"Whatever. In any event, he's sober now. He...puked all over your shoes, Langly."

"Wha-oh." Langly became strangely complacent.

"I can go and try and get you another pair, but I have to borrow Mulder's car-"

"Don't sweat it, Fro. I'll deal with it."

"There should be places locally-"

"I'll deal with it. Okay, your 60 seconds are up. Bye, Frohike!" Langly motioned him out the door.

When he'd closed the door behind Frohike, he slumped to the ground, laughing.

"Oh, God, this is rich. Michael puked all over my shoes!"

"So what're you going to do, babe?"

"What'm I gonna do? Those things were gonna cripple me, Ally!" He was still laughing.

"Okay, well, shirts and shoes are required at BCC."

"I've got shoes. I've got my Docs." He grinned. "Give Eleanor a thrill. And I'll be able to walk tomorrow, too." He was still grinning. "Gotta thank the snotty little bastard."

"You'll probably lose your security deposit," I warned.

"It'll be worth it." I was peeling down to my skin, and his eyes lit up. "Hey. How about we do this as unmarried people for the last time?"

"You think it's going to feel different when we're married?"

"I dunno. Guess I'm gonna find out. C'mon. For once, we don't have to worry 'bout running out of hot water."
 

"God, I think I feel almost human." I was massaging his scalp as I sudsed him up.

"Well, at least I feel clean," I smiled. "I felt pretty grungy from the beach."

"Yeah, but we're not sunburned this time." We both burst out laughing. "Ah, fuck, Ally. I love ya so much."

"Langly...you have no idea." I embraced him tightly, running my fingers down his back.

"Hmm...you could keep doing that, and I won't complain."

"Quiet, babe. Do you hear something?"

We both listened up, trying to hear over the shower. "Rinse your hair, babe. I'm checking this stuff out." I wrapped myself in a towel and stuck my head out into the bedroom. Housekeeping was there, tidying up. I screamed in my very lousy Spanish to get out now. The young woman, who was just doing her job, indicated that the privacy sign hadn't been up, and anyway, room service was running out of dishes. As I sent her away, I heard her mutter something about the people staying this weekend,  and I could tell it wasn't complimentary.

"Did you put the privacy sign up, babe?" I asked Langly as he toweled out his hair.

"No. Figured you did it."

"Well, I'm putting it up now."

"Maybe that was our problem."

No sooner had we hung the privacy sign and there was another knock on the door.

"Yes?" I called. Neither of us were decent-some parties would be acceptable, some not.

"It's John," I heard the soft voice of Byers.

"It's cool, let him in," Langly told me. "Byers, my man. What's up?"

"Not Juliet. She partied quite hearty last night." He wasn't looking all that great himself, but he was still recovering, and it probably wouldn't have taken much to drive him into the ground. "Langly, I need the rings."

"Thought you were gonna bring 'em," Langly once again had an expression of utter confusion.

"That means-"

"They're in the office safe. Shit," Langly muttered.

"It's all right. I'll go and get them. I'm glad I came down early, though. It's only 10:30, so I'll be back in plenty of time. Have you seen Mulder?"

"He and Scully are upstairs. One floor. Room next to Ally's mom." For some reason, that struck us as amusing, but then, mentally speaking, we were pretty far gone.

"I need to borrow his car."

"Hey, we did it last night. He let us do it, should be no problem for you."

"Anything else you need from the house?" Byers inquired solicitously, although yawning.

"Did you bring your stuff to take to Mexico?" I asked Langly.

"Uh...well, I packed it. Did you bring it?" He looked over to me, standing there in nothing but a towel. Byers must have just noticed our state of undress; he began to turn wickedly pink.

"No," I said. "You were supposed to bring it."

"Well, I forgot."

"I'll get it. It's in the bedroom?"

"Unless somebody moved it." Not a pleasant thought, particularly considering what kind of shape the house was in.

"And Byers, if you're going back, can you grab me one of the laptops? One of the real ones. Miranda took the PowerBook, but I can't live for five days on that."

"You're taking a computer on your honeymoon?" Byers looked mystified.

"Sure. Gotta play games in flight." Langly shrugged, nearly knocking the towel from his waist.

Byers turned very, very red. "I just figured you'd be doing...other things while in flight."

"Byers, don't tell me you're a member of the Mile High Club?" Langly teased.

"I'll be back in a little while," Byers beat a hasty retreat.

We both cracked up laughing. "He's in, I bet," Langly giggled.

"Gotta be," I agreed. Although the concept of John Fitzgerald Byers having sex at 37,000 feet, in a crowded aircraft...I couldn't stop laughing. Apparently Langly was having the same idea, because he was laughing as well.

"Maybe it was a 747, it was a slow night, and he had a whole center row of seats," Langly figured.

"No, I bet he just lowered the armrest and did it under a pile of blankets," I giggled more.

"Mom, we're back," I heard the voice of a less hysterical, but still obviously excited Miranda. But at least this time she wasn't throwing a hissy fit.

"Just a minute!" I shouted. "Langly, get decent." He tossed his running shorts back on, and I put his Rocky and Bullwinkle T-shirt, as it was the closest thing at hand.

"You gotta see what we found!" Miranda and Shelby were both beaming. "Actually, Aunt Joan found 'em. And on clearance. $49.99! Can you believe?"

"That woman can shop," Shelby said admiringly. I was glad to hear Joan could bargain shop as well; it was going to be the only shopping she was going to be doing for a while.

The girls pulled the plastic from their purchases, and revealed two navy satin dresses, spaghetti straps, with a touch of oriental embroidery over the bodice.

"These are really gorgeous." And they were.

"Yeah, well, Dana's and Ellen's and Joan's, they're just plain navy satin, more basic, but they look really cool. And we got the best nail polish," Shelby pulled out a bottle of polish in iridescent navy blue. "It's Urban Decay, and it's called Toxic Waste."

"You got people to wear a color called Toxic Waste?" Langly was incredulous.

"It's not the name that's so amazing, babe, but the fact that they can charge 15 dollars for a bottle of nail polish and get away with it."

"15 bucks for nail polish?" Langly's mouth gaped open.

"Anyway, we gotta go. Aunt Emma and Aunt Lydia said they'd help us. We'll be in Aunt Joan's room. Bye!" The girls caroled together as they vanished with their purchases. Knocking again. "We'll come back in like an hour to do you up, Mom."

"I can hardly wait."
 

"What time's it?" Langly didn't have his watch on.

"11. T minus 3 hours and counting."

"Hope Byers gets here soon."

"He will. It's Byers. He's only been gone half an hour. Takes at least an hour to get to Alexandria, unless you're in law enforcement. Then it's 40 minutes."

"30 if you let Scully drive."

"True. That woman truly believes brakes are an optional feature on cars."

Another bang on the door, this one loud and insistent. "Hey! Langly! Ally!" The voices were reminiscent of voices from Vegas. "You wanna go to brunch with us?"

"Hey, Burton. Where're you going to brunch?"

"Downstairs, man. You coming?"

"Uh-I'm gonna pass, man. See ya at the wedding, okay?"

"Okay, that's cool."

Barely a minute passed, and we had another visitor.

"Hey, it's Ellen. Lemme in."

"Hang on," I hadn't even had time to reset the lock, so I just opened it easily and Ellen came in.

"Miranda says you got Aqua Net down here."

"Nope. Hate the stuff." It made me sneeze.

"God, the whole secret to a good wedding is Aqua Net. Okay, there's a CVS around here. I'll get it. Thanks!" She was gone in a flash.

"What's Aqua Net?" Langly asked.

"Hairspray. Serious hairspray."

"Like holds in a hurricane hairspray?"

"You get the idea."

"Maybe I oughta use some."

"Langly, your hair looks fine."

"Yeah, but my face looks like shit still."

"Oh, yeah, and like my hair looks great." I groaned.

"Actually, I'm kinda getting used to it," he said. "It's calmed down a little, you gotta admit. Y'are gonna put the curls in, aren't ya?"

"Yes, yes, yes." Langly loved it when I did curls, and I was determined to make him happy.

"Cool." He was smiling.

Another knock. "Yeah?" Langly called out.

"It's Rob and Laurie," I heard my sister-in-law's voice.

"Hi, guys. What's up?"

"You want lunch? We'll treat." My brother's voice.

I really wanted to see my brother, but I knew that Miranda would throw a major tantrum if I were late for her beauty routine. "Gonna have to pass right now, thanks for asking, though."

"Auntie Ally!" I could hear my niece Bethany's voice. "Can we come in for a minute?"

I looked at Langly. "Everyone else's been here," he shrugged. "Let 'em in."

Bethany and Joelle, my nieces, scurried into the room happily. "Hi, Auntie Ally, hi, Uncle Langly!" They dive-bombed both of us. Langly proved to be shockingly tolerant of rough treatment by small children, and picked them up and tossed them around happily...and it made me a bit wistful. An experience he wasn't going to have.

This isn't the time for sad thoughts, Allison, I chided myself. He's not moping. Don't you.

Another bang on the door-we were truly Grand Central. I gave up. I just took a chair and left it open to the hallway.

"Langly!" I heard Michael's voice. "You wanna shoot some pool?" He was followed by a scruffy-looking entourage of young men and a few of the tattooed girls I remembered from Vegas.

"It's 11:30, babe," I warned him.

"I could do a couple quick games," he decided. "You mind, Ally? Course, I don't have my cue, so I'm gonna suck-"

"Don't worry, I haven't played since before I got sick," one of the young men, who had spiked hair and an entire canvas of tattoos on his arms, said consolingly.

"What'd you get sick with?" I asked, remembering I'd seen him in Vegas.

"Some fucking virus that almost did me in! Jesus, nobody even knew what it was!"

"Yeah, I had it," Langly said. "Made me really really hate hospitals."

"Yeah, but did they suck marrow outta you?" another man in the crowd asked.

"Oh, God, that was the worst!"   I could see Langly visibly shudder. That particular experience still bothered him.

"I had something like that, too, but I got over it in like ten days. Heard some people who got it were like sick for weeks."

"Yeah, but some of 'em didn't make it," one of the young ladies said sadly.

"Skulk." There was a soft, reverent whisper in the crowd. And people were momentarily silent.

After an awkward pause, Michael broke the silence. "Awright, are we gonna play pool or what?"

"Langly," I warned. "You have one hour. I mean it."

"I'll be here."

"Langly, one hour."

"Now you're getting nervous," he said teasingly, kissing me quickly and filing out with the crowd.

END OF PART 84