Title: Lonely Souls 
Author: Rae (it's pronounced 'Ray' and yes, I am a girl!)
Email: I'm not gonna tell you. It's a secret.
Feedback? NO! I don't trust you people! You'll 
ridicule me! You'll eat me! I know your plan! Your filthy, 
filthy plan! It's a conspiricy, you know. You all want to 
kill me. Well, I've foiled your plan! Mwahahahahahahahahaha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaa!!!!(evil laugh)
Category:Romantic/Dramatic/whatever...
Rating: I guess PG-13
Disclaimer:I do not own The Lone Gunmen, or am, in any 
way, promoting or messing around with the creator's intent. 
Yadda, yadda, yadda. You know the drill, folks! This story 
was written(poorly) for entertainment purposes ONLY and its 
characters are presented in my opinion only, okay, not yours. 
Also, I know nothing about the city where most of the story 
is taking place, or a lot agout the main idea (art dealership), 
so please don't hate me for writing this!
Notes:PLEASE ADVISE(My method of writing is strange, and I 
don't want you to be confused.)!  I will have tiny messages 
scattered throughout that will either interject my thoughts 
or recomend a certain piece of music that heightens the mood 
of the scene ((*indicated by the double parentheses.*)). You 
don't have to use the songs I suggest, but I like the idea of 
the story being presented as an actual episode, with actual 
sounds, would. Also, please know that I am a strong believer 
in the idea of every person having a soul mate, a true love. 
This consept appears a lot, so if that's not your thing, back 
away now. Thanks! :)

************************here we go ******************************
 
Friday, April 25
2:46 pm
Lone Gunmen's liar
 
Ringo Langly eagerly scrolled down the page of a favorite website 
while Frohike and Byers organized assorted files.

"Langly, get your butt up off that chair and give us a hand, will ya?!" 
Frohike spurted, yet the slender man refuses to give notice. Melvin Frohike 
and John Byers walked towards Langly's desk, cluttered with electronic 
devices and assorted food scraps. It was a constant center of business 
for these bottom-dwellers, the Avengers of the Corruption in the American Dream.

"What is it that's so interesting, Langly?" Byers asked. 
"Are you drooling over that one art girl again?"
    
"Girl?" blurted Frohike."You're interested in a girl? 
I thought you became a fag."
    
"Yeah, sure. I thought all the ladies liked you."Ringo 
retorted. Melvin, red-faced, grumbled under his breath. 
That was a hit below the belt.
    
"Punkass." he growled.

    
"hee hee. Doohikey." Langly grinned at his victory as he 
continuously stared at the screen. He was viewing a site 
about a Seattle woman, maybe in her early 30's, the 'art 
girl' whom Byers had referred to.
    
"So, tell me again about your mystery girl." At least Byers 
was still interested, and Langly was more than happy to explain.
    
"Her name's Annette Berkfield,  and she's an artist and art 
dealer. This chick has put two con artists and six thieves 
into prison, and exposed thirteen cases of freud in art 
dealership, nation-wide, in the past five years alone!"
    
"Whoa." Byers actually was impressed at this girl's record. 
Langly continued,
    
"Annette's an excellent hacker," (he blushed, and tried to 
hide his glowing cheeks beneath his tousled hair.) " and she's 
also trying to start up an orgization similar to ours, though, 
I don't think she's ever heard of us. And she's so modest! she 
didn't even make this site." Langly smiled stupidly at his lap 
top screen, and Byers easily understood what was going through 
Langly's brain. He'd never seen Langly smile like that when female 
was involved. Damn, he thought, this chick's really gotten to him.
    
"You don't really think that you two will end up together, do you?" 
he asked. Langly looked up at him.
    
"Yeah, I do. Johnny, I found this woman by accident. I randomly 
found an article on the Internet about her last August and haven't 
gotten her out of my mind since. That's never happened to me before. 
Ever! She's my destiny. She has to be. It..it's fate."
    
"Oh, jeez." Frohike sighed under his breath, still callabrating 
the files. He wasn't a strong believer on the whole 'soul-mate, 
special someone' deal. It was too far fetched, and he'd had his 
poor heart broken too many times for the theory to make sense. 
 
    
"Speaking of art freud," said Byers, referring to what 
Langly had mentioned."I got an interesting call today 
from a woman, a maid by the name of Carla Osgood. She 
claims that her employer, Jake Carton, one of New York's 
leading collectors, has just made largest and most 
expensive purchase of a painting since 1980." He paused 
to check if both men were paying attention."Only problem 
is she thinks that the money aquired for this thing was 
stemed directly from the DeCarbbi crime family. Several 
bodies are involvdwith this case, including that of Sen. 
Hurley." Byers lifted a D.C. newspaper proclaiming the 
savage murder of New York's voice in the capital. It was 
a huge story.

"The NYPD's been trying to bring those bastards down for 
years, but the mob is just too huge and too powerful. Police 
finally gave up after two dozen of their best men showed up 
in pieces at their doorstop a few years back. So,um...Ms.Osgood 
thinks that we may be the guys to solve this thing."
    
"Are you crazy? I don't want to end up at the bottom of the 
river for a story!" Langly yelled.
    
"I gotta agree with The Virgin on this one, man. 
It's madness." Frohike added.
    
"Come on, guys!" Byers attempted to purseude them."I remember 
both of you telling me how every story was important! How, no 
matter what the odds, the truth must be told. There are lives 
at stake here, lads! Who knows how many people could be killed 
by the DeCarbbi mob? The information we could give authorities 
would save hundreds!  What do you say?" Silence paned the tiny 
apartment, then Frohike spoke.
    
"Alright. How we gonna do this?"he sighed.
    
"Simple. We go to New york City, go to Carton's showing, ask around. 
Probably half the city will be there."
    
"Well, when is it?" Langly chimed in. Before, he had been sceptical, 
but now the idea of toying with death for art and humanity's sake was oddly intriguing.
    
"Tommorrow, at seven. So we have to get moving. We'll need a complete 
surrvalence hook-up, and vocal communication for who ever decides to go 
'under-cover'." Now Langly was really intrigued. He had never been 
surreptitious like this before. And he loved the idea of snooping 
around in other people's business. He had also always been a lover 
of the finer things. He was an artist at heart, so this new situation 
would be a perfect fit. 
    
As the men drew straws, Langly secretly hoped for the shortest one. When he 
got it, he masked his excitement by a simple smirk.
 


****((this is where, if the story was an episode, you'd see the 
boys' van on the bridges of New York City and perhaps small scenes 
of banter between characters in the car as a short clip of the 
theme from New York, NewYork played. But I'm too lazy to write 
any dialogue for that part, so keep reading and leave me alone!))
*************************************************************************
end of part one