Tempus Abire Tibi Est
 

FROHIKE:

This is disconcerting news, to say the least.

Buildings do not simply self-implode. Not even in our world, which, admittedly, gets pretty weird sometimes.

And Mulder's inability to make contact and get information is disturbing. Getting what he wants is one of his most premier talents.

Byers is intensely baffled by the fact that not a single one of the right-to-life, or antichoice groups, as Michael prefers to call them, has claimed responsibility for these occurrences. Several groups claimed to be unaware of the incidents, and Byers claims he has no reason to believe these people are lying. And Byers is nothing if not thorough. No one in their right mind, or even their wrong one, could ever accuse Byers of sloppy work. It's not in the man to do less than a stellar job.

Langly and Michael have had approximately an equal level of success-virtually none. Not for lack of trying, so I can't scream at them, even if I wanted to. Well, I could scream at them, but not about their efforts. They provide plenty of material in other areas, though.

I've had plenty of people willing to talk to me, but that's all it's been-talk. I have little in the way of useful information to move things along.

We'll call it a night. Right now, I have other concerns plaguing me.

My daughter will be here any time now.

I suspect it would make a better impression were I at home to greet her.
 

MICHAEL:

Dad tells me I better not be long.

Actually, I was thinking that coming home Monday might work.

I've always been welcome on the couch at Chateau Langly.

And I want to see Kelly. Real bad. I've been working all day, she's been working all day, I saw her at dinner and maybe like for fifteen minutes.

And I could use some love and reassurance right now. Not to mention some body contact.

So Dad bails out, and everybody else kind of falls out behind him. I mean, it's like age before beauty around here.

So I head inside. You have to walk through the kitchen at Chateau Langly first to get anywhere.

I can see the sofa's already occupied. Ally's lying there, and Langly's kind of pulled himself up at her feet. She seems to spend most of her time there these days. I hear she doesn't like it a whole lot.

Miranda and Jesse, they're watching a movie with the folks, looks like they're watching some action-adventure flick. I catch a little bit of dialogue, and I recognize it as 'Operation Condor.' Ally and Langly are into Jackie Chan flicks.

Obviously I have more than a passing familiarity with them, if I can pick up which one it is from two lines of dialogue.

Kelly and me actually got to sit through a whole video the other night. We watched 'Mr. Nice Guy,' speaking of Jackie Chan flicks. It was like this whole new experience not to have to be studying while we've got the TV going.

Kelly's in her room, she's looking over some papers that Dr. Shalad wants her to read. She's definitely into her job, even if this isn't the sort of medicine she wants to do when she gets done training.

She's so gorgeous. She's got her hair up in two clips, butterflies, her favorite. I was in Walgreen's a few weeks ago, picking up (yet) another bottle of Robitussin, and I saw these clips on this rack, and they made me think of her. I mean, they were real cheap and all, not much of a present, but she loved them, and she wears them all the time.

She needs to get some shorts. She says this weekend we have to go clothes shopping. I'm not looking forward to this. My total experience clothes shopping is Army Surplus and the Goodwill. She mostly does thrift stores, but she put aside a little money out of her checks-nice thing about Chateau Langly, they don't charge her rent, just for phone calls and stuff, and they say she always kicks in for food, so she's got some bucks saved away. She says she wants to go to the Gap.

This makes me shudder. I mean, I have some stuff from the Gap, and it's okay. But I got it from Byers and Juliet, and I've never walked into one of them. At least not to get anything for myself.

I kiss her. She's got the softest mouth. And I like the way she brings her hands under my shirt and starts massaging my lower back. I will never tuck a shirt in. Not that I ever have. But why start when you've got a good thing going?

Having Kelly touching me is both relaxing and arousing. I press myself more into her, we're like this creature that's got no face and two backs, and I can feel myself swelling up, and she knows it and she responds to it by moving a little tighter into me. Pretty soon we're starting to breathe harder, and we up the ante on that by kissing harder, deeper.

God, I love her so much.

The most unbelievable part is, she loves me back.

I am so fucking lucky.

She's got on one of those T-shirts that leaves her tummy bare, and she's got such a sweet rounded one, and I'm going nuts. Sorry, not into hard abs on girls here. And it's sort of loose, so I can pull it off easily, and I do, and it's even easier because she's like all ready for me to do it. Then she pops her bra-front hook this time, and her tits are there for me, just waiting for me to do what she likes. I start running my thumb over her left nipple, but she says wait, and she pulls my shirt over my head.

I'm so glad I got contacts. I could've lost more pairs of glasses this way by now.

I feel myself starting to sweat, and it's a warm night, but certainly not a hot one. All the heat's being generated by us.

The whole fucking world can go to hell right now. She's out of her jeans, down to her undies, and I run my hands over her lovely ass, which is no longer tiny, for which I am grateful.

It's my turn. In spite of the fact that I started swimming again, I'm quite a lot pudgier than when I had surgery, so getting out of my jeans is a bit of a challenge. We both start laughing.

And tonight I've got her favorite pair of boxers on-not planned, but they were clean this morning. It's the pair with kitties all over them.

Yes, kitties. Shoot me. I like this pair, and so does she.

We're on her bed, it's so nice, having her wrapped around me like a second skin. I can barely breathe, but when I'm like this with her, I never feel more alive.

And she's getting bolder about exploring me. She's gotten to know the twins lately pretty well.

But she does something she hasn't done before: Without even realizing it at first, she's gone down on me, with her mouth, and oh man...

She tells me to let her know when I'm about to lose it so she can pull back. She's not ready to swallow me yet.

That's okay. This is the nicest form of progress in the world. It's like, we build up to things, and each time, it's so new and awesome.

Oh God...I'll be lucky if I can hang on much longer here.

What I want to do is, tell her to pull back and then I'll slip inside her, and oh man...

I almost blow it here, but I manage, just before I go totally insane, and she's inside me, and I'm like having a hard time breathing now, and she is too, and she whispers my name and tells me she loves me and I tell her how much I love her, as much as I can tell her, it's not enough just to say it, and I can't hang on anymore.

It's like being in free fall. Makes me a little dizzy, but oh God...

I'm nearly spent now, but she's like no, don't stop don't stop. So for her, I go a little longer, and I'm rewarded with something pretty damn close to a shriek.

Thank God everyone's upstairs.

At least I thought they were. As she starts to catch her breath again, I hear the washing machine and a familiar, sort of nasally voice yell out something.

"Could you guys keep it down in there?"

It's Langly, and he doesn't sound too happy.

I know he's not getting any lately, so no wonder.

This makes Kelly and me giggle for a long, long time.

We're so bad.
 

FROHIKE:

It's 10 past 10. There's no reason for me to be nervous. My daughter said, after 10. Or was it around 10?

I'm not a nailbiter, but tonight, I could be.

The temptation to hit the J&B is enormous, but the last thing I want Leslie to do is find me reeking of liquor. She is a judgmental girl to begin with. Imbibing is not likely to make a positive impression on her.

I don't think I sweated this much over my first date.

What I really would like right now is for Michael to get his ass home. I reminded him not to be long with Kelly before we left.

That was forty minutes ago. You can see how much of an impression my instructions made on him. He's probably bedded down with her, not giving a rat's ass that I'm home on the edge of my second heart attack.

I do want him to make amends with Leslie. I think it's important that they have some sort of relationship, and not simply one that consists of mutual dislike. And I think the potential is there. It's been a long time since they've lived as brother and sister. This could be a chance for them to start anew.

The real reason, however, which once again demonstrates how utterly cowardly I am, is that I am so frightened about this meeting with my daughter. I'm in need of Michael to be here, if for no other reason than he is my parenting credential these days. Maybe if she sees that he's no longer the bratty child he used to be...

Right now, where the hell is that bratty child?

Probably stark naked in her bedroom, that's where.

I check the clock again. It's 10:15.

This is worse than wartime.

It's parenting. It's not just a job, it's an adventure.
 

LANGLY:

"God, I am never gonna get the smell outta that shirt!"

Ally giggles at me when I come back upstairs after dropping my Ramones shirt into the laundry.

"Ally, this is my Ramones shirt! My favorite! I've had it since '88!" Okay, it's a little thin in spots, but it's still got years of wear in it.

She thinks this is very amusing.

"Ally, that kid barfed all over me!"

I'm glad somebody thinks it's funny.

"Langly, sweetheart, I hate to tell you this, but they do that. A lot."

A lot?

"Like every time they eat for the first few months."

EVERY TIME?

"And they eat like every three hours."

EVERY THREE HOURS?

Well, she's planning to breastfeed, so that gets me off the hook...

"When Miranda was about a year old, Eric ended up throwing out about a dozen T-shirts because he couldn't get rid of the smell."

Oh God. My Ramones...my Dead Kennedys...my To Hell DOA...

"Thought you nursed Miranda."

"I did. But usually they wait a while to upchuck. And I can't hold him or her 24/7."

I must look like I'm wigging or something, and she's still cracking up, and then her face softens into that look I love so much.

"It does get better. The first three months are hell. But then it improves continuously."

We're only in the first three months of the pregnancy, and it's already hell.

"Babe, do you want this kid?"

The weird thing is, I still do.

Probably more than ever.

I think I've totally lost my mind.
 

BYERS:

Juliet looks so beautiful tonight. Being back on the job has brought her some peace of mind, and the tension in her face has mitigated.

Dark eyes lively, sleek hair, olive skin that would look so wonderful in a tan. She's wearing a lemon-colored shell with black pants, very simple, and very elegant on her.

She tells me all about her first day working with Luanne. Luanne's business is investigations into computer crimes. She originally started out working for corporations, but lately, she's been getting a lot of personal requests, some of them investigating the very corporations that have paid her initial fees.

People must be very rich or very desperate. I'm thinking it's the latter. Luanne is not inexpensive to hire. The consultants who assist her are also a high-priced item.

Much of the investigating is done on line, by Luanne's partner, Renegade, aka K.C. Conrad, aka Luanne's partner, in work as well as in other aspects. Renegade refuses to draw a salary from Luanne, which helps keep expenses down, but it's still a pricey affair when only Lurus Investigations will do.

Next week, Juliet will be in New Jersey, doing an investigation for a group of employees for a company called Meerschaum-Beckerling.

My ears prick up, hard, at hearing that name.

The individuals in question are either ex-employees or disgruntled current ones, so it's Juliet's plan to go up there and interview for a position. This would be her optimal approach. If that fails, she will have to find some other way to gain access to the company. She intends to do much of her research on line, but she feels that actually making physical inroads into the facilities would assist her greatly.

I wonder if Lydia Gerstein is among the people paying her salary on this one. I ask her.

Lydia is not, but I recognize another name.

Sam Silverman.

Why is that name familiar? I need to check back into some of the work we did on this, which was never successfully resolved.

Yes, we do resolve some issues, but most of them remain dormant and unquiet. It's a frustrating business to be in.

And the idea of Juliet being in northern New Jersey, for an indeterminate period of time, is enough to make my heart sink into my stomach. I feel somewhat queasy at the thought of her being away, even for a brief period of time.

I did not realize until this moment how completely attached to her I've become. This is a frightening thought.

I'm tempted to beg her not to do it.

I am worried about her safety, for one thing. Although these incidents are white collar that are investigated by Lurus Investigations, it does not mean there is no element of danger involved.

And I worry about my own sanity. She is so far under my skin, buried deep within my life now, and I've been too stupid and too dense to realize it.

Until now.

She will not be leaving until the beginning of the week. At least we'll have the weekend before she has to take off. And she says she'll be back down here on weekends, should the job run into multiple weeks.

Something about missing the cat.

She laughs when she says this and gives me a look that says, John, get a clue!

I think tomorrow will be a perfect day to go ring shopping.
 

FROHIKE

It's twenty minutes to eleven, and neither of my children have shown up.

The idea of a J&B is sounding more and more appealing. I keep telling myself I have to wait at least until 11.

I hear footsteps coming down the hall. It could be anybody, but my heart catches in my chest.

I'm hoping to God Michael arrives first.

The footsteps go past our apartment. On one hand, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. On the other, my stomach knots hard.

I notice that I'm sweating. And it's 59 degrees outside-hardly frigid, but not sweltering, either.

The seconds tick by. I put some Everly Brothers on. Vinyl, not CD. Michael is always after me to upgrade to CDs, but I think not.

I try to let the music of my youth relax me. It's usually effective.

Not tonight.

Ten minutes to eleven.

Still no sounds in the hallway.

Goddammit, where are those kids?

What if Leslie got in an accident? She has my phone number, but what if she's seriously injured? What if she's unconscious? This is a strange town and the only people she knows are Michael and myself...

What if she decided not to come? What if this has been a ruse all along? I cringe at the thought, and my stomach goes from knotted to downright painful.

What if she's lost? What if she can't find a parking space?

What if...

My neurotic musings are interrupted by a sharp rap on the door.

Michael has keys. He wouldn't knock.

Oh my God.

END OF PART 10