Rating: PG, minor violence.

Summary: Michael's really getting annoyed with Dad. Ally thinks about the mom thing again.

Spoilers: "Some Like it Hot"...one of the great comedies of all times, in my opinion. Long live Marilyn Monroe.
 

"El, I really don't think I'm up for the parent thing again, even if I could."

"You're sure about that."

"Ellen, I'm sure for myself. I'm very happy with the child I have. I think if I did want it, it would be for Langly more than me."

"Whoa. Slow down there."

"El, which side of the fence are you on?"

"Neither. Just trying to size up the situation. I mean, c'mon, Big Al...I'm unemployed. I have to do something to keep my mind busy. We have time for another?"

"Hey, I passed off the shopping on Langly today."

"Good luck. You'll probably come home to a freezer full of Cherry Garcia and your fridge stocked with Sam Adams."

"He usually manages to remember milk, since he can't drink coffee without it."

"Okay, so you get ice cream, beer and milk. Seriously, Al...if you're worried about that Langly's gonna be disappointed, well, hey, even though technology has jumped forward like crazy, he could still be disappointed. I mean, it doesn't always work. I know people for whom it worked, and some for whom it didn't. I guess I'm saying, you're gonna end up doing all the carrying, and most of the work, so think real hard about it. And don't take offense, Al, but let's face it, I've seen how helpful he is around the house...he's borderline useless."

"He's good with Miranda. He does a lot with her."

"Miranda's pretty close to self-sufficient."

"Tell me about it. She'll be driving this fall."

"Please don't say those words...only eight years till Steven's old enough. I have nightmares already."

"I'm pretty happy with the way things are. I'm not sure I'd want to change them. I think we have enough challenges in our lives."

"Understatement."

"But I hate to see him so miserable."

"Al, not only do you act like a college kid, you sound like one right now! You're a grownup, girl. And having's not the same as wanting, you know."

"Yeah, you're up close and personal with that right now."

"Well, hey, it's not like it's the end of the world, you know. I got my kids, I got Dave, I got friends who'll sit and drink coffee and schnapps with me and get my mind off feeling sorry for myself. So I'm intact." And the Ellen grin I get is real, and brave, and strong.

This is what I love about Ellen. Her perspective. Her strength. Her caring.

She could make me really ashamed of myself.
 

MICHAEL:

Dad and the prof are hammering away at it. We need to get March on the cyberstands real soon. Langly says he'll be out when he finishes putting stuff away.

"Dad...did you bring my disks?"

He looks up at me. "What disks?"

"The ones I gave you this morning."

"No."

"Dad, I got to write my article!"

He blinks at me from behind his glasses. "Write it with what you have here."

"Dad, I needed some of what I had there!"

"No, you don't."

"Excuse me, are you writing this article or am I?"

"Calm down, Michael." Byers pipes up, real soft. "You can make it happen."

"Dad, what the fuck are you doing censoring my stuff, huh? Since when do you get to make all the editorial decisions around here-"

"I've made this one." His voice is so cold and hard. "You don't like it, too bad."

"I don't mean to intrude...but what's going on here, if I might ask?" Leave it to the prof to be ultra polite even when he's got to be rude.

"Nothing." My dad gives him the same hard, cold voice and look.

Well, at least he's passing it around to ALL the kiddies today.

Byers looks kind of put off, but he doesn't argue with Dad, goes back to his workstation and keeps typing away.

Langly finally pops in. "Hey. What's going on?"

"Working." My dad doesn't look at him. "You have your pieces almost ready, Blonde Boy?"

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there." Whine, whine, whine.

It's gonna be a long afternoon.
 

And it is. I put together my masterpiece-if you want to call it that.

I do what my dad wants. He is, after all, the friggin' publisher...but I'm pissed as hell.

I think censorship sucks, and it's even worse when it comes from your own dad.

I let Byers proof it, not my dad. Byers says I did good, but I'm not happy with this.

I could've made it so much better.

I look in my wallet. I got 44 bucks. I do some quick math as to how much I need to get by the week.

I've got about 14 bucks to spare.

Not exactly a small fortune to take a lady dining.

Then I remember the cheesesteak place in DC where my dad took me once...where we ate like kings for like 5 bucks a pop.

If Kelly doesn't mind slumming and getting the hell out of the burbs for a while, then we could eat mighty fine on the cheap.

Fortunately, Kelly's used to living low...and she's studied herself silly, she's ready to get out for a while.

Out to the city for a while.
 

"It's a dive, I'm telling you," I warn her.

"Michael, you saw where I worked before...don't tell me about dives."

The neighborhood is sort of creepy, but Dad and the guys worked here for eight years, and they're not dead yet.

And the smell of cheesesteaks...well, I think Casey would call it 'intoxicating.'

"Where'd you find this place?" Kelly asks. "I mean, it doesn't even have a name over it...who'd know?"

"The locals. My dad and the guys, they used to work in the warehouse next door."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. They only went suburban last fall. When Ally and Langly bought the house."

"Where'd they live before?"

"In the warehouse."

"They lived there, too."

"Uh-huh. I never saw inside, though. I didn't come to Alexandria till last November."

"Maybe they feel more hidden in the suburbs."

"Mostly I think it's the cheap rent. I mean, Ally and Langly own the place, it's not like they have to pay the landlord or anything."

"That was the garage before?"

"Uh-huh. It's almost as big as the house. Well, not really, but it's huge. Course, now that we got so much stuff in there, it doesn't feel so huge."

"Your dad doesn't like me going in there."

"Dad doesn't like anybody going in there, except me and the guys. Ally's okay, but it's like she's the owner, what are they gonna do?"

"Well, these were worth the trip. They're delicious. Think we should take one for your dad?"

"Hmm...I think he's been trying to lay off these since he had his heart attack...but maybe he would, I dunno." I don't particularly feel generous towards him right now. He censored my article, and I don't appreciate it.

"You're mad at him."

"Very perceptive."

"It's pretty obvious. Why are you so mad at him?"

"Because...you remember the stuff I showed you the other night?"

"Yeah."

"Well, my dad wouldn't let me use it."

"None of it?"

"He told me to use what I had, he didn't want me using any of it. He told me before I could use the virus stuff, but then he went and changed his mind on that, and I'm really mad because I'm headlining and I wanted a real great piece. And I don't think it's that great. I mean, the prof said it's good, but I don't like it."

"Is this your first headline?"

"Uh-huh. I should be a lot more excited, huh?"

"Well, I'm excited! I think it's great!"

"Thanks." Wish I could share her enthusiasm right now.

"I think you're really talented, Michael...I took your suggestions on my paper, and it reads so much better."

"Hey, just some ideas."

"Good ones."

We've got nothing but greasy wrappers and empty soda cups in front of us now.

"We need to get back," Kelly says.

I don't want to.
 

We keep saying we'll watch a flick, but we never seem to get around to it. Kelly says she'd like that, but she asks can we do it at my house, it's so noisy sometimes at Chateau Langly (I've got her calling the place that). She wants to see "Some Like it Hot." She saw part of it with Miranda, but she fell asleep before it was finished, and I know my dad has the movie. He doesn't mind if I borrow that part of the video collection.

We did bring Dad a cheesesteak. He probably won't be home, but he can nuke  it later.

Uh, wrong answer there...Dad's home. Still, he won't care if we watch a flick. He loves Marilyn Monroe. I got to admit, the woman is a goddess. And she looks like a real woman, for Christ's sake.

I begin to think this wasn't such a great idea when I see him in his chair, working on a few fingers of J&B. He looks like shit. Lately he looks like shit a lot. This scares me.

"Mr. Frohike, we brought you a cheesesteak," Kelly tells him.

"From the old neighborhood? Michael, what were you doing taking a lady up there?" He sounds pissed.

Talk about gratitude. Thanks, Dad.

"Hey, they're worth the trip," Kelly says to Dad. She's trying to be friendly, but he's in a bad mood and he's drinking. Drunk people have a way of making her nervous-well, drunk people in a shit mood, anyway.

"So what brings you children here?" And the voice isn't friendly.

"We were gonna watch "Some Like it Hot,"" I tell him.

"What, the Langlys don't have that in their massive collection?"

"Dad, we were just gonna watch it here, it's quieter here, and-oh, Jesus, forget it! C'mon, Kel, let's go."

"And where do you two think you're going?" Dad's in a real nasty drunk mood. I hate this mood. Bad enough when he's down in the dumps, but when he gets mean, well, this is the pits.

"Excuse me, I got to take Kelly back, I drove!"

"Then get your ass home in a hurry. It's a school night."

"Dad, we studied all weekend! We were just gonna take a time out!"

"I bet you were." He's almost hissing.

I resent the hell out of that. "Don't you talk about Kelly that way."

"Michael, come on, I need to go." Kelly sounds real scared.

"And try to fall asleep in your own bed tonight!"

I've had it. I don't believe what I do next, though.

I slug him, square in the jaw.

Oh God. I can't believe I did that. Kelly's crying. I almost am, too.

Shit.

He's real mad now. "You better have your ass home in 30 minutes, dear boy, or you find another place to lay your head."

Oh God. What is wrong with me?
 

"Kel, I'm real sorry." I'm almost crying. I keep sucking in deep breaths, which I don't do as well since I've been sick. And I'm so stressed out, I can't stand it. "I didn't mean to hit him!"

"I know. He was being rude," Kelly says to me. "He must have had a real bad day."

"Yeah, but he doesn't have to take it out on us!"

"Go home, Michael. Try and make it up to him. At least he'll talk to you. Which is more than I can say for my mom." She looks so depressed now.

"He may not after this."

If he brings up MY mother tonight, I don't know what I'm gonna do.
 

Dad's still in the chair, but he traded the J&B for some ice in a ziploc.

"I'm...I'm sorry." I'm breaking now. And I don't need him to see that. Fuck.

He doesn't say anything. So I hurried home to get the silent treatment. Great.

I sit down on the sofa, waiting for him to say anything.

Which he doesn't, for a real long time.

"Michael...I'm worried."

Ah, the all-purpose excuse for bad behavior in Dad.

"Dad, you're always worried! And lately, you been a real SOB about it! I mean, what did I do that was so awful! You act like my having a girlfriend is like the worst thing in the world. You can't get off my case about it, can you?

"What the fuck is wrong with Kelly, anyway? She's smart, and she's nice, and she likes me, and she talks to me, which is more than I can say for you!"

"I do talk to you. You don't listen."

"I do so! I just get tired of it being, you order me around, I do what you say! That's not conversation, Dad! I mean, you wrecked my article-"

"I did not."

"You did, too!"

"Michael, you don't get it, do you? There were other considerations at stake here. One of which is very deeply hurting a very dear friend of both of ours. I'm sorry, you can't do that."

"I still think Langly should know!"

"And I don't! And that subject is closed, dear boy! You don't like my rules, go elsewhere."

"Is that how it always is with you, Dad? My way or the highway? You like that with Mom, too?"

Jesus, what am I doing, bringing up my mom? And here I was worried he was gonna do it.

"It was different with your mother, and I don't owe you an explanation on that one."

"I think you do."

"I've told you how it was. Don't keep beating me up over it. It's ancient history, and I've tried to make peace with my demons."

"Yeah, in the bottom of a bottle of J&B." He can get nasty, so can I.

"Michael, I'm 56 years old, and you're not even 25, so until you get up to my age and experience level, you can be quiet!"

"Yeah, well, I might as well be 6 again, for the way you act towards me!"

"Michael, if you're so goddamn mature, what are you doing with a girl who is far too young for you? Answer me that!"

"She's not too young! She's 19!"

"You two have six years between you, and at your age, that counts for a lot."

"Then how come I can talk to her real easy? How come she listens to me? Which is more than I can say for you, you know!"

"She's way too young for you."

"How much younger was Dee than you?"

"Ten years. But that was different. We were adults, we had work experience-"

"Yeah, Dad, it's always different when it's you."

"The situations are not the same."

"Bullshit. You just don't want me being with anyone, do you?"

"That's not true."

"Yeah, it's true. Admit it, Dad. You're so worried that your little guy's gonna get his heart ripped out of his chest that you'd rather I just didn't bother, right?"

Gotcha.

Blessed silence.

"Michael...she has numerous problems-"

"Oh, like I don't?"

"Yes, you do, and that's why I worry so much! You're both so damn young, and so vulnerable-"

"Yeah, well, and we love each other."

Dad just closes his eyes. "Oh God."
 

I'm in bed, and I can't sleep, even though I'm dead tired and I got to be up way early for Casey's seminar in the morning.

I'm sorry I hit him. I really am. But I'm still mad at him.

He just won't let it go. It's like, just because he doesn't have somebody, I'm not supposed to have anybody?

Christ.

Knock on the door. NOW what does he want?

I'm tempted to fake that I'm asleep and just not answer, but I do.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

"Whatever." I really don't care. I don't feel like getting lectured anymore tonight. He starts in, he's gonna be out of here real fast.

He sits down on the edge of my bed, just like he did when I was sick.

I turn on the small light; might as well. It's not like I can fall asleep or anything.

He's backlit, but you can tell how down he looks.

Real real down, Melvin-style.

Even Mulder can't do depressed Melvin-style.

He doesn't say anything. I mean, my dad apologize or something? I don't think so. It's the one thing he never does. Even when he is sorry, he never admits it.

Like it's a major affront to his pride or something.

Get over it, Dad. You're wrong this time. Not saying I wasn't, but you asked for it.

"Why are you so down on me and Kelly being together?" I ask him. I don't like the way I sound. I sound like a whining little kid.

He's drunk, which isn't helping. He's looking like he's ready for a CD-one of his crying drunks. He doesn't know I know that he has them, but I do. I've seen him.

It's not pretty.

"I'm not trying to be," he finally says.

Close to an apology as I'm probably gonna get.

"Well, Dad, she's really special. Get used to it."

"I'm trying."

"Try harder." I turn my face away from him. I want him to know that this discussion is not going to continue.

"Michael...I love you."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm so afraid I'll lose you again..."

"Whaddya mean, lose me? Jesus, I live in your house!"

"Not forever. And I worry about...Michael, you and Kelly...what would you do? Where would you live?"

What?

"Dad, we're not that far along."

"You will be. And you'll probably move away, and I'll be alone again."

Oh Christ. He really is drunk.

"Jesus, Dad, you think I'm just gonna take off that easy? Not even."

"You don't know that."

"No, I don't. But you are always my dad. Like you were even when you weren't there."

He doesn't say anything else. But I finally feel small circles being drawn on my back, just like when I was little...

I think I hear him sniff a bit.

But he keeps rubbing my back, and finally, I'm asleep.

END OF PART 70