In Plain View by Cincoflex Part 2 "Another union memo, a bunch of Internet addresses, a case file page from nineteen eighty-three, a casserole recipe . . . wow, nothing too earth shattering yet," Frohike muttered as they scrolled through the images on the monitor. Jimmy had fallen asleep, and Byers was too preoccupied with a report to do more than glance up occasionally. Frohike, Langly and Maddie were all perched in office chairs circled around the screen. Maddie, clutching her sketchbook, was aware of Langly watching her with his peripheral vision; periodically she smiled to herself as she doodled. "Thirty two images so far, all of them routine office crap. All I can hope is that our spy is as dead ended as we are," Langly muttered. Frohike fast forwarded to the next image, and leaned closer. "This looks promising--isn't that a map of the Herndon Facility?" "It sure is--" Byers confirmed, "Can we get a better resolution on it?" Langly hitched his chair closer and tapped the keyboard, amplifying the magnification. They could all see the floor plan of the laboratory, with rooms neatly identified in handwriting. "Any date on that?" Frohike demanded hopefully. Langly shook his head. "No way to tell when any of these were even copied--we can't even go by the dates on the pages themselves with any certainty," came the frustrated response. Byers stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Which means that unless the information is being picked up on a regular basis, timing isn't critical--our spy is only on a general collector and someone else is probably sorting through what's important." They all digested this insight for a moment, and finally Maddie yawned. "Sorry guys, but I'm fresh outta insights and I gotta get some sleep--where's the phone?" "You'll never get a cab at this hour--Blondie, she was *your* date--you take her home," Frohike ordered absently. Startled, Langly looked at Byers, who tossed him the keys. "Good manners and common sense--" he chided. Frohike, who had stood up to stretch, glanced at Maddie's sketchpad and broke into a grin. "Cute--I didn't know you had the insight into the real me." "Call it a hunch," came her reply. The drawing was a quick study in pencil, with strong lines and good detail. The subject was Frohike, but his features had been exaggerated and anthromorphized to give him the appearance of badger, bristly, annoyed and powerful. Byers studied it with approval. "Uncanny--right down to the teeth and glasses," he observed. "I like how he's still wearing leather." Maddie tore off the page and handed it to Frohike, who grinned again as he held it up. " All my better qualities: Strong, dedicated, stubborn--" "--Smelly and low to the ground," Langly sniped as he handed Maddie her pea coat. They left, and for a few moments, neither Byers nor Frohike spoke. Then-- "Five says he gets shot down for a goodnight kiss." "Right cheek, chaste--" Byers countered, fishing out his wallet. *** *** *** The drive to Maddie's house was the strained sort of silence found between people who are thinking too much to actually talk. Her quiet directions took them to a suburb south of Silver Springs. The bus sounded loud on the empty streets. They pulled up in front of a two story with a small yard encircled by a low chain fence. Maddie scanned it. "Here it is--" She glanced at Ringo apologetically. "Uh--Would you mind coming to the door with me? I don't like walking in the dark much--" "Me neither--" he nodded, following her out slowly as the cold of the snowy night gusted around them. Maddie fished for her keys and found the right one, plugging it into the lock with shaking hands. "Come on in--I can get you some coffee for the trip back," she offered shyly. They stepped into her living room, and Langly grinned when the light went on. He stepped forward to admire the huge Evil Dead poster just inside the door. "Man you have a nice Ashe." In glorious color, Bruce Campbell stood atop a pile of skeletons, looking as cocky as ever. Maddie nodded. "I bought it for the pose, then rented the movie and loved it--a classic if ever there was one." "Totally," Langly agreed, looking around at the rest of the living room. Maddie had flicked on a few lights as she made her way to the kitchen. He noted the old but tidy sofas, a profusion of houseplants and the magnificent eight-foot paper mache dragon hanging from the ceiling. The faint scents of paint thinner and clay hung in the room. "I don't get it. If you're so into the art thing, why fix copiers?" he wandered into the kitchen, where she was fussing with a coffeemaker. A pair of fake vampire bats dangled from the light fixture. Maddie frowned. "Money, Ringo, plain and simple. I need to make money," she admitted. He pushed up his glasses and gave a noisy sigh; she could tell he was nervous but determined to overcome it. "Besides, it gives me some autonomy. I work where and when I want. I need that." "So you're not into the nine to five big government drudgery?" he ventured with a touch of cynicism. Maddie pushed a mug of coffee into his hand, her fingers brushing his lightly. "Neither are you--" she glanced up into his face. He tried to look nonchalant, but his hand shook, and the rattle of his spoon in his coffee cup sounded loud. Maddie took pity on him. "Hey, I don't mean to make you nervous--I don't bite, you know." He smiled weakly, and Maddie rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I give up, white boy. You're funny, smart and kinda cute, but spookable as a rabbit on the highway--what is it with you anyway? Afraid of me 'cause I'm African American?" "Hell no," came his quick reply. "You'd still be hot even if you were a Martian American with green scales and five eyes--" "Oh thank you very much--" she grinned. Langly flushed and tried to clarify his statement; Maddie merely sipped her coffee and let him dig himself in deeper. "I mean, the black thing's got nothing to do with it--it's the whole . . . uh, girl thing, really . . ." he trailed off, lost. "The girl thing. You don't like girls?" "Of course I like girls!" came his indignant response. "You don't think I'm gay, do you?" "Not with the way you kiss, honey. I just didn't want to make any assumptions," she called out over her shoulder as she moved to the living room. Langly charged after her. "I resent the implication. Just because I happen to have been living for the past twelve years with two male roommates and haven't dated in a while doesn't mean that I'm homosexually oriented," he griped. Maddie, who had settled in on a sofa picked up the television remote. "Define a while, Ringo." "Uh . . . " "Was it any time during the latter half of the last decade, say?" Seeing his statement, she patted the seat next to her. He hesitated, and finally strode over, planting himself down, a sullen pout on his face. He crossed his arms. "All right, it may have been technically longer than a while," he growled, "but the fact remains that my libido is consistently and singularly fueled by members of the opposite sex. Got it?" "Got it." "I mean there's no doubt about that-- I'm hetero to the core," he continued as Maddie loftily ignored him and cruised through the channels, finally settling on a Twilight Zone rerun. Langly snuck a quick glance at her; she returned the sidelong look. "So?" "So?" "So why'd you choose to draw Frohike anyway?" Langly probed, eager to change the topic to one that had been bothering him. "I mean, Christ! He's as ugly as a troll's ass." Maddie pursed her full lips. "'Because he wasn't self-conscious and I could work with what I saw in him. Ever see a badger in real life?" "No." "We ought to make a zoo trip, Ringo. Badgers are low and fast and mean--they don't take crap off of nobody. They have a look that tells you that even if you manage to beat the shit outta them, you're still gonna need to see a doctor yourself. Tell me that isn't your buddy." Langly conceded the point with a thoughtful shrug that made Maddie nod. "Now if you're wondering why I didn't draw *you*, it's only because you're still too uptight for my focus. I hate a model who's fidgeting and squirming and making faces. Sucks out the spontaneity of the thing, ya dig? So until you unclench a little white boy, I'm not putting you on paper." Langly digested this with less than good grace; he gave a huge put-upon sigh that didn't fool her for a minute; Maddie turned to face him. "Can you tell me something?" "That's a question already," he pointed out moodily. "You want to kiss me again?" The question hung in the air between them; Langly swallowed hard. Maddie sat perfectly still although a pink tinge sped across her face. Finally, he squeaked very softly, "Like you had to ask?" "Well I like to be pol-mmmmmmm. . ." She was cut off very effectively as Langly hungrily pulled her over to him. They tumbled off the sofa. This kiss was clumsy, but still achingly sweet as the two of them landed in a tangle on the carpet, barely aware of the fall as they continued to devour each other. A phone rang. Maddie broke off the kiss with great reluctance and pushed herself up from the floor. She angrily stomped to the kitchen and picked up the receiver. Dazed, Langly lay flat on his back, not hearing her words, too lost in his own little universe; he grinned, insanely happy for the first time in years. Gradually the tone of Maddie's voice in the other room reached into his consciousness and he slowly stood up, uneasily wondering why she sounded so upset. Langly came through the doorway, unprepared to see her wiping her eyes with the heel of one hand as she hung up the phone with the other. Maddie looked up at him in unguarded misery. "You okay?" He thought about hugging her, but the awkward newness of their attraction made him hesitate. She shook her head slowly. "No. Ringo baby, I had a great time this evening, but I have to get to Falls Church like right now, so we'll have to call it a night." she sniffed, trying not to cry further. "Let me know if you guys find anything on that disc, okay?" "Uh, right . . ." he shifted from one leg to the other uncomfortably, wondering what he had done or said to upset her. Maddie reached for the phone again and dialed a number from memory. "Uncle Harding? Yeah . . . I know. He tried again. They wouldn't tell me if he was stable or not . . . yeah . . . okay. I'll be ready." When she hung up, she realized Langly was still there, and for a long moment they stared at each other. Maddie burst into loud sobs. This time he didn't pause and took her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head as she clung to him and cried across the front of his jacket. *** *** *** Jimmy looked up from his bowl of batter and started to grin, but the look on Langly's face made him change his mind in a hurry. He tried to catch Frohike's eye, but failed; the older Gunman was engrossed in the morning paper. "So--changed your status as unicorn bait yet?" "Shove it, Doo-hike," came the terse response. "Did you pull anything useful off the copier disc?" "Oho, someone's long johns are in a serious twist--" Three steps and the paper was yanked out of Frohike's hands; he looked up to see the grim statement on his blonde compatriot's face and grew serious. Langly bent forward and practically touched noses with the older man. "Maddie's old man is a 'Nam vet and last night was his fifth attempt at suicide, Frohike. I've been sitting with her in a hospital lobby for the last three hours, waiting to hear if he'll be around for her Christmas, so don't fuck with me, okay? I am not in a good mood." After a moment, Frohike nodded respectfully, and sighed. "Yeah there was something we missed the first time. All of the disease-related pages were bracketed by recipes, and all of those were from the same cookbook--Cuisine of Great Britain. The book's put out by the Embassy right here in DC so, the next step is to cruise up Massachusetts Avenue and check out our resident limeys." "Good. I gotta crash for a few hours, and then we can pick it up from there. Where's Byers?" Frohike rolled his eyes. "Said he had to do some Christmas shopping." "Not again--" "That's what we get for harboring a traditionalist. At least he's given up the stockings and tree thing." "You mean you guys don't put up a tree?" Jimmy looked crestfallen. Frohike shook his head and shot a look at Langly, who snorted. "Sorry Jimmy, but Santa bypasses us every year because we busted his elf slave-labor ring years ago." "Oh you guys--" Jimmy shook his head and went back pouring pancakes. Langly yawned and headed for his bed. Most of the day was gone by the time he woke; Langly managed a shower and a quick change before settling in at his computer for some serious work. While most of his mind focused on slipping past the CDC walls, part of his thoughts centered on Maddie and the night before. It was hard not to see her in a different light, not after watching her try to talk cheerfully to a blank-eyed man strapped to a gurney. Langly tried to keep focused on the job at hand, and managed to make serious headway, barely aware of anything else going on around him. "Any luck?" came Byer's soft voice. Langly nodded and took a moment to slide his fingers under his glasses to rub his tired eyes. "A little. I can get through the primary and disarm the tracer on the secondary, but the directory needs a password and I'm running out of programs to crack it. Frohike got anything I haven't tried?" "Probably not," Byers admitted. "Listen, you've been at this for five hours, Langly--take a break, get some food--" "We got any Mountain Dew?" "Out, unless you've got some stashed away in your room--" "Arggh!" Pushing himself away from the keyboard, Langly stalked to his room, muttering under his breath. He looked in the mini fridge, yanked out a can and was turning to go when it dawned on him he wasn't alone. Maddie Adams was curled up sleeping under his tattered Star Wars quilt. Langly quivered, torn between waking her, or walking out. Discretion won, and he quickly found Jimmy. "What the hell is Maddie doing in my bed?" "Sleeping?" Jimmy guessed forthrightly. "She showed up about two hours ago, said her brother borrowed the house for something and she needed a place to crash so Frohike sent her down to your room." Langly was mentally torn between thanking or strangling his compatriots, but Jimmy merely grinned good-naturedly. "She likes you, man--it's pretty obvious." "Riiiiight," came the scoffing response. "Get real--" "No man, she does. When Byers told her you were working, she said not to disturb you, that she'd crash until you had a moment. That kinda patience is a sure sign." Jimmy pointed out. Langly found no argument to counter this, and walked back to the bedroom, studying the girl in his bed. She was in a loose curl on her left side, braids splayed across the pillow, sleeping peacefully. Langly gritted his teeth as he noticed the general mess of the room: gaming dice, piles of laundry and half-finished sodas everywhere. The Boris Vallejo posters weren't much better either as the babes in metal bikinis pouted back at him. He looked down, and suddenly all the breath left his body as he realized that Maddie's jeans were in a pile on top of her boots, which meant she was half-dressed under the covers--Langly felt dizzy and gripped the doorway. She stirred, stretching in a graceful catlike fashion that made him shiver. Maddie opened her eyes. "Hey Ringo," "Hey Maddie. What's up?" He crossed his legs and tried to look casual, but she didn't buy it for a moment. She grinned. "More than you're telling. Listen, I have to go to my uncle's for the Christmas thing . . ." her voice changed, " . . . with dad sedated in the hospital, it's kind of hard to get out of the invitation." "Yeah--" "Anyway, I wanted to leave you guys the Konica key, and see what the next move was going to be." She sat up, shaking her braids. Langly was still watching when she reached for her jeans. "Uh Ringo honey?" "Hmmm?" "You can come in, but at least close the door?" she prodded gently. "Please?" "Uh right--" he fumbled with the knob, nearly catching his fingers before he managed to get it shut. In her pink underwear and Rolling Stones shirt, Maddie padded over to him unself-consciously. "Here--" she handed him the copier key but his hand was trembling so badly that he dropped it. Maddie scooped it up again. "Roll your tongue up and tell me what's the matter--" she ordered. "You-you-you're in your underwear," he stuttered unbelievingly. Maddie nodded. "In-in-in my room," he managed to finish. "Yeah, well--would you rather be in *your* underwear in *my* room?" She snorted, crossing her arms and looking up at him. Langly was starting to hyperventilate again so she took pity on him and cupped his icy hands in hers. "Ringo Langly, tell me the truth--you're the big V, aren't you?" His face flushed brick red; he dropped his gaze to their intertwined hands and finally gave the tiniest of nods. Maddie gave a patient smile, and squeezed his fingers. "O-kay, that explains a few things, white boy. Now is this a situation you want to maintain? If it is, let me know and I'll back off--" "God no!" came his swift gulp. She tried to keep a serious statement, but it was difficult, looking into his wide-eyed face. Maddie reached up a hand and tucked his hair behind one ear. "Mmmmm. Well the good news is that we can certainly change your status, given some time and privacy and patience." "Oh man, what's the bad news?" Ever the pessimist, Langly braced himself against the door. He was so tense, Maddie mused, that if you flicked him, he'd shatter. "The bad news is that it's going to have to wait until after I get back from Baltimore. Gotta take these things a step at a time, and I wouldn't want to rush it." "Rush it? My God I'm thirty freakin two already!" he whispered in anguish, lower lip trembling. Maddie had to bite her own lips to keep from laughing out loud. Instead she gave a thoughtful nod, well aware that he was helplessly staring at her. "--So three or four more days isn't going to kill you," she pointed out sweetly. "--Is it?" "No comment," Langly shot back with spirit. She pressed herself against him and he moaned involuntarily, overcome by the warmth of her. Maddie gave a gasp of her own. "Oh my goodness, is that a sniper rifle, or are you just one very happy Gunman?" she teased, reaching up to kiss him under the chin. He whimpered, and was just about to slide his arms around her when a sharp knock on the door at his back made them jump. "Langly! Get your skinny butt out to the van pronto so we can try out the modified tempest equipment on our tea-sucking former monarchs," came Frohike's growl. Maddie rolled her eyes and reluctantly pulled away, heading to collect her jeans. Langly's knees gave out and he slid down the door to a heap on the floor. He watched Maddie pull on her 501s, lower lip jutting out in a full pout. "I'll never make it to New Years," he mourned. "I'll be the first diagnosed case of biologically terminal virginity--" "Oh hush," Maddie grumbled. "Dying for it is a metaphorical belief, not a factual one. I'm heading to Baltimore, and by the sound of it, you four are off to the Embassy, so we all better get going." She softened her voice, dropping it to a gentle whisper. "Don't worry, I'll be back, okay? And you guys have my E mail--" "E mail?" Langly perked up as she came back and took his hand to pull him to his feet. "Oh yeah. I'm NubianMaid2, 'cause Uhura was number one, ya dig--" "I dig," he managed a weak grin. Maddie reached down deep into his left front pocket, stuffing the Konica key there. "The Manhammer is in the house--lord have mercy--" with that, she stepped out, leaving Langly to thud his head back against the door repeatedly. ==========================