Authors: Erynn and Sally
Email: inisglas@seanet.com, sallyh@flashcom.net
Archive: Ephemeral, Gossamer, LGM, FLO, all others ask.
Rated: R for grownup stuff
Spoilers: We assume you've seen the X Files series.  Set a little after FPS in this universe.
Disclaimers: Not ours! Not ours! We bow to the Surfer God, 1013, Fox, and Morgan & Wong. They're yours, but we love them too. Opening quotes, as always, are used without permission, but with appreciation.
Category: Gunmen – story, humor, reflection
Keywords: Lone Gunmen
Summary: Frohike's on the road, and Byers and Langly take time to talk.

Stories in the Things Undone series:
TU 1: Things Undone by Erynn; a 5-part story wherein the Gunmen deal with some unfinished business.
TU 2: Mending the Tears, by Sally; a 6-part story wherein Fro and Langly go to the ER.
TU 3: To Carry On, by Erynn; a vignette wherein the Gunmen begin to deal with the repercussions of their adventure.
TU 4: Alchemy of the Word, by Erynn and Sally; a 17 chapter novella wherein words are more important than they seem, and Byers starts to get a life.
TU 5: Snipe Hunt, by Erynn and Sally; a 24 chapter novel wherein our boys track down a hacker, and end up in the middle of a real mess.
They're archived at http://gadsogunmen.topcities.com. If you haven't read them, you'll likely be confused. Go do it!
______

"It was a track,
a definite beaten path,
I had forgotten
till this moment
just how clear it lay
before me there."

~~Robin Skelton -- Distances~~
______

THURSDAY, MAY 17, 2000
LONE GUNMEN HQ, V. 2.0
EARLY AFTERNOON

FROHIKE:

We're back from Southern California and our on-site 'consulting and play-test' stint with FPS, where we spent two shall we say... 'interesting' weeks not getting a tan. Hot virtual prostitutes with flintlock pistols is not my idea of a grand time: well, not when they're busy killing people anyway. Two dead -- including the legendary Daryl Musashi -- Mulder and Scully nearly shot up by the Cyberbabe, Byers almost getting his butt blown off too; I mean, jeez, hasn't he been through enough already? At least we're getting some money out of it. After the fix, we still shipped on time.

We've been in this Victorian dump for about a month now, and we've still got boxes and loose crap lying all over the place. The whole damn building has to be re-wired for our systems, and the only way to maneuver through some of the rooms right now is to sidle your way along paths that we've made.

Byers' room, of course, is one of the exceptions. He's unpacked, but he would be.

You'd think that right now, travel would be the last thing on my mind, but the FPS trip was such an exercise in insanity that when Mel Scarlett invited me to join her for a few days in Harrisburg, I jumped at the chance.

Besides, I haven't been able to locate my video collection for love nor money since we bailed for Skinner's beach house. I wonder if Monroe's men took off with them? Trash a man's home and computer systems *and* steal his entire video collection? That's low, man, really low. Or maybe it was Mulder. If he got in there and raided the place before we made it back, I am so gonna kill him. We've only been home four days, but to hell with it, I'm out of here. And when I get home, I'm gonna find my collection. Byers and Langly are sitting on the floor, laying wiring where we've torn out a wall.

"I'm leaving," I tell them tersely.

"You're what?" Byers asks, startled.

"Relax, Byers, I'm only gone for four days. I'll be back -- unless I get a better offer," I kid them.

"Like, going where?" Langly whines. "Thought you were gonna help us out here."

"I will, when I get back."

"Back from where?" Byers says.

"Pennsylvania." Harrisburg, actually, but they don't need to know that.

"Lemme guess. You're gonna get it on with Mel Scarlett," Langly says, waggling his eyebrows.

"That remains to be seen." I'm not staying with her. I will if she wants me to, but for the sake of privacy, not to mention easy escape for both of us should things not work out well, I got a motel room nearby at the Sleepytime Motor Inn. I'm hoping they don't throw in the roaches for free; the price suggests housecleaning isn't a priority. I'm not planning on spending much time there, but I'd rather not share that time with the coprophages.

"Wanna borrow some condoms, Fro? Oh, wait, I don't have any extra small," Langly snickers.

I'd swat him, but that would entail effort, and I'd rather save my energy for the road trip. Besides, should it come to what Langly suggests, Mel is a woman of a certain age, meaning that birth control is no longer a necessity. Old age definitely has its advantages.

"I knew you were overly optimistic, Ringo," Byers says with a wicked grin. "Don't forget to keep your eye on the expiration dates."

"Byers!" Langly howls.

"I'm out of here, boys. Be good."

Not like Langly has much choice. Deborah's taking her finals. I think it annoys him, but he's been surprisingly good about it. It's a welcome change from his whining and moaning earlier in the year. The fact that we have so much work to do doesn't hurt, either. I know Langly misses Deborah. They still have their raunchy emails and over the top net sex, but he's changing. Could it be... maturity? Nah.

Byers' sight is finally back to normal, which has really improved his disposition, even though our Miss Thomas is in India. No, for once, I don't feel a need to get away from the boys being themselves. It's more the events of recent months adding up, culminating in the debacle at FPS, that have worn me to a frazzle.

Mel asked me to come up and see a Pirates-Orioles game with her; so what if we'll be cheering for opposite sides? Nothing like baseball for relaxation. We're pretty much playing it by ear; we'll do the ballgame, and we talked about having a picnic if the weather holds up, but our plans are flexible. She seems as exhausted as I am, if not more, so I'm assuming plenty of R&R will be built in. It's been so long since I've had any, I hope I remember what it is.

BYERS:

"Man, I can't believe he ditched us like that. The place is a fucking wreck; seems like we're never gonna get it all wired up," Langly whines.

"He didn't 'ditch' us." We really could use his help right now, the way things have been going, but I can hardly grudge Mel some downtime. "He's just taking a break."

I expect Langly to keep whining, but lately he's been surprising me by actually making the occasional concession.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you're right." He leans back into a pile of boxes.

Cardinal Richelieu, Sari's cat, is staying with us, and he comes by rubbing his jowls against Langly's hand. "Hey, fat cat." He strokes the Cardinal's ears, and I can hear blissful purring.

I shake my head. "One thing we have got to do is put the Cardinal on a diet. Sari will be home in a few days. If she sees what Mel did to him, he's doomed to wind sprints at dawn, and quite honestly, I'm not ready for him to have a coronary," I roll my eyes. The Cardinal's belly just scrapes the ground, picking up dust and God only knows what else as he moves.

"Yeah, can you imagine how much that would suck? You think he's crabby now? Shit, Deb tells me old guys with heart attacks, they're like total bastards."

"How is Deborah, by the way?"

"Ass deep in exams," he says. "Won't hear much from her 'til after next week." He stares off into the distance. "I really miss her, man."

I've certainly heard that before, but this isn't his usual arrested adolescent whine. My guess is that exposing Pinck and identifying Black Widow as Jack Monroe, along with all the attendant misery and risk, may have forced him to grow up a little.

"I know," I tell him.

"I guess you wish Sari was back, too, eh?"

He finishes wiring the outlet, and we move over a few feet, lay more wiring, and start on the next outlet. Putting these walls back together is going to be a pain. Langly said earlier that Scotty the Rat and Elron are going to be by tonight to help out with that. Scotty may be a junkie, but at least he can use a hammer. Elron the Druid, well, I'm not so sure about him. About the only thing he seems to wield with any competence are dice and computers. I wonder if Kimmy will show up with them. I think he can be trusted with some of the actual wiring.

I sigh. "Yeah, I do." I haven't heard from her since she left Portland for Varanasi, about a week and a half ago.

She told me she wouldn't be able to call, as she's staying at the ashram, but I still miss her. Sometimes just hearing her voice can make me feel better. The guys have really backed off about our friendship, and it's been much more comfortable for me. I hope they won't be back to business as usual once she gets home.

She hadn't been out of the hospital for more than a few hours before she and Devi were on a plane to Wichita for Nicole's funeral, and she hasn't been back since. I imagine she'll be exhausted when she finally gets here. I'm supposed to meet her at the airport with the Cardinal on Saturday afternoon.

In the meantime, Devi drops in every now and then to help out with unpacking if she has a free afternoon. She's got most of the kitchen together, and is coming by later today as well, to finish that and get started on the den. God, I wonder what kind of scene will develop if she, Scotty, Elron and Kimmy are all here at the same time. I shake my head at the image.

"I hope she doesn't wind up back in the hospital, after all the traveling she's been doing."

"Sari's pretty tough. Give her a few days rest when she gets back, she'll be good as new." The Cardinal is lying on Langly's lap now. If he stays there, Ringo will never get anything done.

"I think she has to go back to work on Monday." I swipe the cat and scratch behind his ears. He purrs and climbs up to lie on my shoulders for a rest.

"Well, that'll suck." Langly gives me a grumpy look.

"For all I know, she may want to get back to work. Speaking of which, let's get to it." I poke him with my pliers.

"You're evil, Byers."

"Not as evil as Frohike's going to think I am when he finally figures out his porn collection is missing."

"Wait a... Frohike's been saying he thinks that Monroe's hired goons took 'em."

I grin at Ringo.

"Oooh, Johnny, you are downright diabolical."

"Actually, it was Sari's idea."

"God, she is cold." We both laugh. "I never woulda though she'd have it in her, man."

"That's what makes it so wonderful. And she's paying the rent on the storage unit, too."

I turn my attention back to the wiring, and Langly howls with laughter. Until we pulled those practical jokes, I never would have seen it in her, either. Thinking about it, though, makes me miss her even more. Oh well, it's only a few more days.

FROHIKE:

I gas up the old Chrysler at the last station in DC that sells leaded premium. I had to scout the route beforehand to see where I could refill along the way. One of the towns with a station that carries the stuff is Intercourse, Pennsylvania. I wonder if this is fate, or a cruel hoax.

Poor Deborah. It'd take living in the wilds of the Commonwealth to relish the prospect of living in DC. I'm eager for this trip. I haven't been on many road trips just for fun in the last two decades. The boys and I did one to Atlantic Beach, North Carolina some years back, but since then, travel has been synonymous with work.

Not this time; it's pure pleasure -- well, I'm not pure, but there will certainly be some pleasure, maybe even of the fleshly variety. We'll just have to see what happens. I'm not interested in a third rate romance, low rent rendezvous. If something transpires, I'd like it to be something long term. Casual sex, contrary to what one might believe from appearances, has never been my thing. If I want casual sex, I'll pay for it. That's not what a real relationship is for.

One of the best parts of a road trip is the inevitable stop at Krispy Kreme, and this time, I don't have to share. I'll just get a couple and a large coffee to go.

"Will that be a dozen, sir?" the young woman asks. She's a sweet looking little thing.

"Oh, why not?" I'm celebrating, and there's nothing like a little sugar to clear my head. Besides, I won't eat all of them...

Before I reach the Maryland-Pennsylvania state line, there are no more Krispy Kremes. Between that and the extra large coffee, my stomach will be screaming in a while. Oh, screw it: I'm driving, I can stop whenever I want.

The weather gods are smiling on me today. It's positively exquisite; upper 70s, clear, wildflowers in bloom, trees budding everywhere I look. Pretty soon, DC will be a hot, sticky mass of miserable humanity, but this is the sort of day that gives me a light heart. It's been so long since I felt this way that I'm almost weightless from it.

The weather, the scenery, the drive itself, all seem to be peeling years away with each passing mile. It's been a hell of a year so far; I think I've aged a decade since my last birthday. I had some gray hair when I got involved in the life I live now, but an evening of looking at old snapshots jolted me, seeing just how much I'd really aged.

We were unpacking and one of the boxes had our photo albums. There are some from our past lives, of course, but the three of us spent most of the evening looking at photos from after we met. You really don't notice how fast time is racing until you see the past up close and personal. I think Langly was a bit disconcerted at just how much hair he's really lost. On the plus side, he's got less acne than he did back then. Byers looks the most like he did eleven years ago what with that baby face of his, but even he's got some grey in his beard now, and a few more lines around the eyes. A lot of our experiences have been unnerving, some positively harrowing, but I found I didn't mind going over the past with those two jokers.

We laughed and reminisced like we hadn't in ages. I felt for a while like we were wasting time, but sometimes, 'wasting' it is the best way to use it. I need to waste some time again; this whole year has been filled with purpose and work. Both of those are good things, but I'm worn out from it and right now, if I'm going to be worn out, I'd rather be worn out from enjoying myself.

At least the guys' dispositions have improved. I was dreading Sari taking off for a month, and Deborah returning to work and study, thinking that I was in for a long siege of whining and bitching from them, but it hasn't been that way. Not that they've been angels the entire time, but for the most part, they've managed to keep themselves fairly composed. I appreciate that.

What hasn't improved are the situations we've been getting into. I'd just like to get through one damn month without someone trying to shoot us, stab us, or kick our butts from here to Antarctica -- the year so far has been manic. I'd like May to be different.

I try not to think about the past few months, and for the most part, I'm wonderfully distracted by the drive, but I haven't driven this much in ages, and the resultant pain reminds me too much of one of our recent sojourns in hell. As I recall, Ms. Scarlett has wonderful hands. Perhaps she won't mind using them on my aching shoulder.

I really don't know what will happen on this trip. Through our e-mail correspondence, Mel and I have developed a comfortable, companionable friendship. The problem is that there's so much I still haven't revealed to her regarding our work, and the types of situations we find ourselves in.

Part of the reason I haven't told her is, of course, cowardice, but I also feel there are some things that should be said face to face, and this is one of them. I really don't know how she'll react, but from all indications, she's a sturdy, down-to-earth woman who's seen a lot. ER nursing isn't for the faint of heart, and she's been at it for thirty years now.

She told me a lot of stories, some hair-raising, many hilarious. I did ask her about gerbils a la Richard Gere. She then proceeded to tell me about other things that people have inserted into various bodily orifices. Makes you respect the creativity of the human animal, but there's also such a thing as way too much information.

She may very well feel the same way once I've let her in on the dark, dirty secrets of our lives. I'd prefer not to, but I know that if this is going to work, I'm going to have to level with her. She's been bugging me about it, not in an unfriendly way, but I think she's got a strong bullshit detector, and I don't see any point in trying to snow her. With any luck, she won't ever have to endure what Sari and Deborah went through with us. I can't promise her that, but I can hope. Hell, while I'm at it, I'll hope for myself. Honestly, I'm getting way too old for this shit.

The butterflies in my stomach get more agitated as I get closer to Harrisburg, where Mel lives. It's not a completely unpleasant sensation. In some ways, it's like reliving choice moments of youth. I don't know what our relationship will be after this weekend, but for the moment, I'm enjoying the anticipation. It's been a long time since I've felt like this, and I plan to savor it.

Pennsylvania, despite my disparaging remarks, is really a lovely state, especially on a warm spring day. It was a slushy, frozen hell in the bowels of January, but today, it's welcoming me with open arms. And I notice there's a Krispy Kreme on the outskirts of Harrisburg, which I completely missed last time. It's not like me to overlook a Krispy Kreme, but I had a lot on my mind when we were here last.

I did promise Langly I'd stop by and say hello to Deborah. He was pretty unhappy at having to be in California on May 7th, his beloved's 29th birthday (I seem to remember being 29 somewhere back in the Pleistocene Era), but in view of her work schedule, he wouldn't have been able to be with her anyway. He took it with good grace, and sent her two dozen roses.

He was kind of cute actually, asking me about what flowers to get her, with the sort of shy clumsiness a 16-year-old might have. I told him what the various colors of roses are supposed to signify, and when I asked him later what he'd sent, he blushed a little and said, "Red."

Ah, the boy's in love. Am I? That's a good question. I confess I haven't given it a lot of thought. I really enjoy Mel's emails; we've become a mutual admiration and aggravation society. As for being in love, though, I'm not ready to pass judgment yet. The thing is, I feel no urgency to do so. Today, I feel no urgency at all. It's the closest thing to freedom I know.

LANGLY:

"We're never gonna get this done," I grumble, and it sure as hell feels like it. Now that Fro's out of the picture for a few days, it's gonna go even slower.

"We'll get it done, Ringo," Johnny's being real soothing, and yeah, it helps.

He's like he used to be again. Well, not totally, but in the ways he's not, he's even better than he was. He's not so uptight about stuff, for instance.

"Maybe we need a break."

Whoa, now that's a different Byers than the one I used to know. A break? I almost open my big mouth to say something about it, but why spoil the moment?

"Are you hungry?" he asks me.

Now that I think about it, I am... oh hell, when am I not hungry? You'd think I was still a growing boy. Well, I may be growing, but it's out, not up. You'd think I was gonna be 35 or something. Oh shit -- I am gonna be 35. Man, that's a landmark. That's like, you're starting to be middle aged or something. Damn, that's depressing.

"Yeah, I could eat something," I say to Byers.

"I could, too. I'll get us some food." That's cool, 'cause I can't cook for shit. He heads for the kitchen, so I follow him and grab myself a beer.

"Feels good, having your eyes back, eh?" I ask him as he pulls some stuff out.

Byers and Frohike, they walk around the kitchen, food happens. Me, when I walk around the kitchen, I make a mess. These days, though, I've been cleaning up the mess too. I got no idea how Byers used to do all this by himself  every week.

"You have no idea." Byers flashes me this wicked happy grin. We see a lot more of him smiling these days.

I was thinking when Sari took off, he'd be like a total bastard, but he's been real mellow about it.

"I feel like I've been reborn."

I bet it's more than getting his eyes back making him feel that way, but I'm gonna keep my mouth shut. I know he and Sari are just buds, and I'm gonna leave it alone. Besides, I got no desire to get him pissed off like he was last month. I mean, we were just kidding, but he didn't take it too well. Sure, I get tempted to bust on him about it. Sari's a good looking girl, and they obviously like each other, it's sorta hard not to think about 'em being a good fit. But I'm not gonna help the situation if I open my yap and stick both my big feet in.

"You okay, Langly?" Byers asks me as he's whipping up something for us to munch on.

"Yeah, I'm cool. Just thinkin', that's all."

He laughs. "Now there's a novelty."

"Fuck you, Byers." He knows I'm kidding, just like he is. "Guess I was just sorta... you realize I'm gonna be 35 next month?"

"We're talking chronological, not mental age, aren't we?" He hands me a sandwich.

Y'know, some people think Byers has no sense of humor. They're the same ones that are surprised as hell to find out he can be totally diabolical. Like, when John's evil twin Skippy gets out, nobody wants to believe it. I swear, it's the suit. Nobody ever suspects the suit. You'd think he was Saint John the Narc or something.

I mean, I do bratty stuff, but nobody's ever surprised; they only tweak when I don't do something obnoxious. You'd think we'd be about the most unlikely guys on the planet to end up friends. All I know is, I'm glad we did.

End part 1