Rating: PG

Summary: Just typical male-female misery.

Spoilers: Nah.
 

MICHAEL:

I completely spaced.

I was supposed to help Kelly fix her car today.

SHIT!

My dad hands me a 7-up, and it's warm but I don't care. I manage to spill some on my T-shirt. At least it's not one of my decent ones. If you can call my decent ones that.

Dad's signing to Dr. Scully-he's not a real good signer, not like Ally is, but he can do some basic stuff, and Jo signs okay, too, so between the three of them, they're talking about me. Like I'm not even in the room or something.

"Dad." I need his attention, like right now. He's still having at it with the ladies and he ignores me.

"Dad." I'm trying to pump up the volume and it's not working.

"In a minute." At least this time he heard me.

"Dad. I need my backpack."

I'm catching snippets of things like "X-rays" and "follow-up" and "rest." I don't think this is a good plan, whatever it is.

"Dad, I need my backpack."

Finally. "Where is it?"

Oh fuck. I left it at Chateau Langly. Again. I went there on Friday right from school and I bet he didn't pick it up when we left.

"I think it's at the Langly's."

"Well, I'll go over and get it tonight."

"Uh-Dad? This is kind of important."

"Michael, I don't think you're in any condition to do your homework right now."

"It's not about my homework."

"What is it, then?"

"I need something out of it."

"What?"

"A phone number." I've got the class lists that give everyone's e-mail and phone number.

And here I put down bogus ones.

Fuck.

She's probably thinking I stood her up. And now she can't even get hold of me.

I am totally fucked now.

Dr. Scully gives my dad a hug, tells him I'm gonna live, and bails out. Jo says she's gonna go home and take a shower and do some stuff, but she'll come back and make dinner later.  "Dad. I really gotta have my backpack."

"I heard you, Michael. And you'll get it. But I need to get some things done right now."

"Aren't you going to the office?"

"I'm working at home today."

"Dad, all I'm doing is lying on the sofa."

"Uh-huh. And if I leave, you'll be flying out the door. Now go lie down." He's back at the computer.

I need to get hold of Kelly. I stand up to try and move...

Forget it. I feel like I'm gonna pass out.

She's never gonna talk to me again.
 

I'm sleeping again and I hear the phone. Dad picks it up. I can't hear what he's saying, but he's not calling me, so it's got to be for him. Probably one of the dudes.

He comes over to the sofa, sits down near my feet and puts them in his lap.

"I understand you were supposed to help one of your classmates repair her car today."

Shit, how'd she find me?

"She didn't have your number, but she remembered you knew Allison, so she called her. Langly and Byers put a new starter in her car. Allison also says she asked how you were, and she wanted to come by but she has to work tonight. And she left her phone number." He hands me a post-it with a number scrawled on it. "So who is this mystery woman, anyway?"

"Her name's Kelly.   I tutor her in math. And she's in my astronomy class." And she's real pretty and she's smart and she's totally hot and you have no idea how much I want to get into her clothes...

Then again, this is Melvin J. Frohike of the large, carefully catalogued, and always obscene video collection.

But sometimes there're just things you don't feel like telling your dad.

All I know is I feel a lot better now. Even if I do owe Ally big time on this one.

I fall asleep again.
 

ALLY:

"So Juliet? Whaddya say we go out and make it ladies' night?"

"Hmm. This could be amusing." She's on the phone and she's obviously in about as good a frame of mind as her partner. With my amazing powers of observation, I figured this out as soon as she picks up the phone and barks "What?!"

Woman needs a drink, big time.

Among other things.

"I hate everybody today. I need to go somewhere with somebody where I can be totally bitchy and mean and not have to hear about anybody's campaigning
practices." This gets a giggle out of her-Juliet's not a giggler, not like me, but she seems to think this is a novel idea, and she likes it.

"If you need mean and bitchy, I'm your girl," she says. We make plans and hang up, both of us laughing evilly.

Langly's in the kitchen, grabs two beers, hands one to me. "So what's for dinner?"

"Whatever you and the kids decide is for dinner. I'm going out with Juliet."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. It's girls' night out."

"But it's Saturday!"

"Yes. And?"

"Well, it just seems like-"

"Deal with it." I sip my beer and watch him shake his head as he exits back to the sanctuary of the office.

If this isn't PMS, then menopause is beginning to rear its ugly head.

I'm not sure if I need estrogen or alcohol, but right now, alcohol will suffice nicely.
 

Byers comes in as I'm coming into the kitchen from our bedroom. I'm not really dressed up, but Juliet wears clothes exceptionally well, so I go for a step up from the ordinary. It's just a cranberry dress with a cardigan, but it's better than my usual fare.

Byers grabs a beer from the fridge. He's looking mighty sulky.

"I hear you and Juliet are going out on the town tonight."

"I wouldn't exactly call an evening at Pettibone's a night on the town."

"So what would you call it?" My, we're testy right now.

"Juliet and I are going to eat red meat, drink lots of liquor, and have a girl gabfest."

"What brought this on?"

I look at him carefully. "John. Menstruation. Mental anguish. Menopause. Ever notice how all of our problems begin with MEN?"

He blushes, takes on the look of the totally terrified, and scurries for the door.

I suspect that he and Langly will be having a little bitchfest of their own tonight.
 

MICHAEL:

At least Kelly's not ready to kill me. And she got her car fixed. AND she left her phone number.

I ask my dad what time it is, and it's after 6.

Fuck. She's at work already, I'm sure of it.

Besides, what am I gonna say?

Jo's making dinner, from the sound of it. I can't smell anything.

"How many extra heads?" she asks my dad.

"Two."

"What about the girls?"

"Plans of their own."

"Who's coming over?" I ask my dad, who's helping Jo in the kitchen.

"Byers and Langly."

"What, the women finally get smart?" This is as much wit as I can manage.

I'm looking forward to having my voice back someday, too.

"They wanted to go out by themselves."

"They mad or something?"

"Probably."

"Melvin, just because they wanted to go out on their own doesn't mean they're angry," Jo tells my dad.

"I don't know. I'd certainly be irritated with those two. In fact, I frequently am. And I'm not even a woman." Just don't let anyone catch you in your jammies, Dad. "What amazes me is they're not irritated with them more often."

"They know they're good men. They just need to have some girl time, that's all."

Girl time. What the hell is that?

I fall back to sleep, until there's this banging on the door that sounds like a herd of moose climbing up it.

I'll let Dad get it. He lets the dudes in.

Even with my glasses off, I can tell they're not happy campers. Langly's already working on a beer, probably ignoring the open container laws on the way over, and the prof just looks totally bummed.

The prof obeys the container laws, but he's working on one as soon as he's got his jacket off.

I think the women are pissed at them.

This makes me smile.

Langly comes over and asks me if I'm dead yet. I tell him yeah, but Dad likes to keep my corpse around. He parks his butt on the sofa near my feet, but he doesn't put my feet in his lap like my dad does, which is good.

I don't think I could handle that right now.

I think he's already on his way to being wasted. And it looks like the prof is playing some serious catch up. I haven't seen him drink like this since Ally and Langly's wedding.

"So what did you do this time?" My dad is asking the both of them at the same time.

"I have no clue," Langly tells him, and he really does look confused.

You exist, fuckhead, is what I want to tell him, but I'm so tired, I'm not gonna waste my energy on this.

And I still have his Biker Mice collection. And if you make Langly pissed off, he takes his toys and goes home.

"And you?" He's looking at Byers now. Byers just shrugs, and drinks more beer.

They just hang back and check out the NC State-Crimson Tide game. Langly's an NC State fan, and I got to admit, it's a pretty decent team.

And I'm asleep less than halfway into the first quarter.
 

I wake up a long time later. The game's over. Dinner's over. Jo's left. It's just Dad and the dudes hanging at the table, drinking and feeling sorry for themselves, probably. At least that's what it sounds like from here.

"She's been like so bitchy since she went back to school." Langly's heading up the moan brigade in there. "I mean, I can't say ANYTHING to her and she just gets all bent out of shape. I mean I'm just trying to help her do it easier-"

"She does seem to have a grip on the material," the prof throws in.

"But I tell her this, and no, she wants to do it her way! And she wants to go through the masters' program? She's crazy! She's sitting on a pile of money, and she's looking for a new career! I don't get it!"

"Well, she's not been able to interpret easily since her arm was broken," Dad reminds him. "It's not like keeping her old career is an option."

"So? Eleanor just left her a bundle! She ought to just retire!"

"What? And take care of you?" The prof makes it sound like this is an insane idea.

I know it'd make me insane.

"Two million really isn't that much, you know." This is the prof, who is currently worth about 7 million. Least the last time I checked his investments.

Shit, 20 bucks feels like a fucking fortune right now to me.

"I don't think Allison would be comfortable doing that," Dad tells Langly. I don't know why he's trying to reason with him; the dude's wasted.

"Shit, we were fine before," Langly's whining like crazy now.

"No, you weren't," Dad says to him. "You have very high expenses, and without your mother-in-law's help, you wouldn't have even been able to afford your house. Granted, you do fine in terms of earning, but what if Allison hadn't inherited the money? What would you do without her income right now?

"And what's she supposed to do if something should happen to you?" Dad's sounding kind of pissed off right now. Langly's quiet for a minute. Maybe Dad got to him. "Go beg from her brothers?"

"Why not? Her one stole a bunch from her."

"She knew what she was doing," Byers is sounding pretty drunk at this point. "The State of California hasn't ruled her incompetent, and that's where the will was filed."

"I didn't say she was incompetent!" Langly's getting real pissed off now.

"Then quit treating her like she is." Dad's being a bit harsh, but sometimes, you just got to hit Langly over the head. With a lead pipe, preferably.

"She's a smart girl, Langly." The prof is trying to keep it level. "In spite of her taste in husbands."

"Yeah? And what's your problem? Juliet cut you off?"

"That's none of your business." The prof's getting riled now.

"Jesus, Byers, you act like a pisshead all day long, and you think we're not gonna notice? What the hell is it with you two?" Langly's on him now.

Payback is a bitch, and so are both these guys.

"I don't know what's wrong with her!" Byers isn't yelling, but he's about as jumpy as I've ever heard him. "All of a sudden she wants-I have no idea what she wants!"

"Try an engagement ring," Langly shoots back at him. "She didn't come here just so you could spend the next century debating whether or not you'd be cheating on Susanne-"

"Okay, you two! Enough!" Dad's had it.

What's really amazing is he gets them to pay attention. Dad's way shorter than the both of them, but funny, they look up to him.

"I'd just like to know what I did wrong," Byers is sounding like he's gonna cry in his beer.

"You didn't do anything. That's the problem!" Langly's back at him.

"Langly!" Dad has to work him a little harder than the prof.

"Well, at least I don't attack her ambitions-"

"I do NOT attack her!"

"You certainly undermine her efforts."

"Do not."

"Yes you do."

"Jesus, how'd we all get to be the bad guys here?" Langly's got his head on the table on top of his arms now.

"Inherent in the male condition," my dad tells him.

"What? That I'm always wrong and she's right?" Langly's like real confused now.

"Well, the sooner you recognize that, the happier you'll both be," Dad tells him.

"You gotta be kidding."

"I'm dead serious."

"There was a study done about three years ago in which it was determined that husbands who went along with what their wives wanted had better marriages than the ones where they didn't." It's the prof, in his natural state.

"So why don't you do it?" Langly asks him.

"She's not my wife."

"She wants to be," Dad tells him. Well, duh! I mean, anybody can tell!

"Then explain to me why she's...behaving like she is."

"Because you're living in the fucking past!" We have Langly as analyst this time. That's even scarier than the prof.

Scariest of all would be if Mulder was here. Fortunately, that's not happening. I saw his wife today, and she managed to stick me-twice. Which was enough.

"Look, you two, you can knock it off anytime you want. Byers, if you want to be a lonely widower the rest of your life, just keep this up. And Langly, I'd like to point out that your wife liked you before you had money and before she had it." He gets up from the table, pulls another bottle of J & B from the cupboard. He doesn't sit back down. "You two are idiots."

Score one for Dad.

I'm having fun with this, but I'm so tired...
 

ALLY:

I meet Juliet and we drive to DC. We need a meal at Pettibone's. Sometimes when you're feeling savage there's nothing like red meat.

Serious drinks, too. Pettibone's makes real drinks, not watered-down yuppie drinks. A margarita you can sink your teeth into, as well as a prime rib you can do the same to.

Juliet orders a margarita on the rocks as well-she saves Godiva liqueur and Pepsi for the domestic drinking experience. She claims she programs better with it. Whatever.

"I needed this," she says, taking a large slug of her drink before the waiter even gets it all the way to the table.

"I hear that. So this plan of your, Jules-this wouldn't involve a little sexual deprivation, would it?"

"Hmm. As a matter of fact..." she grins slyly. Then her face turns grim. "And it's killing me."

"You've only been at this a day."

"Like I said, it's killing me."

"At least John supports what it is you want to do professionally."

"He hasn't got a choice. It's not like he's supporting me financially."

"But he doesn't undermine you all the time and make you feel stupid."

"Ah, Langly's not thrilled with your decision to have a mid-life crisis and switch careers?"

"Jules, I liked my old job. If I hadn't injured my arm, I'd have been back at it this fall. If my mother hadn't passed on, I might have had to, but I don't think I'd have lasted long. Last spring was a killer. I can't work and be in pain every second, which is what it was getting to be. Right now I interpret for Dana maybe six hours a week, and that's really all I can handle. By the end of a seminar, my arm's aching."

"Computer work can be damn unkind to your hands. I'd just like to warn you about that."

"My first husband had carpal tunnel, so I'm well aware of what can happen. This isn't like programming."

"Well, modeling does involve some programming."

"Not really. Worst I ever have to do is macros, and I've only done two of them. I do more thinking than typing, which is really rather a novel concept in my work experience. Interpreting is a lot of processing and decoding, but it's in the moment, it's all action in the here and now. This is different."

"How do you like it?"

"It's fun. Except when Langly wants to see my work. Then he just picks it apart and tells me I'm approaching it all wrong. And I'm tired of it. I'm no rocket scientist, but I'm not totally stupid, either. I don't get what his problem is."

Juliet's listening, but all of a sudden, she's cracking up.

"I'm glad you find this amusing," I tell her tartly.

She's still laughing. "Ally, you really don't get it, do you?"

"Do enlighten the terminally clueless here."

"Ally, you're on his turf!" She's finding this hilarious.   Either that or tequila just makes life in general a more humorous experience for her.

"Excuse me, he's not a statistician. Well, I'm not one, either, at least not yet."

"Ally, Ally. You're doing math. He does math. He's always been macho man at math. He's got the power. So what happens? You decide to try this. And you're good at it. Now you've upset the balance of power."

"Julie, I'm not competing with him!"

"You know that. I know that. He doesn't. Ergo, he sees you moving in on his turf, and now he's nervous. It's all about balance of power, Ally. And right now, I'm trying to tip mine a little more in my favor."

It's time for another drink.

END OF PART 12