Disclaimer in Part 1
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Thrown Back - 15/18

Slack-jawed while viewing the guest on the
surveillance screen Frohike kept gaping.
Then, a very atypical pleased smile blossomed
on his lips, and the buzzer sounded off a
fifth time, with the caller looking as though
it was time to call it quits.  The Gunmen were
missing in action.

"NO--don't you dare," Frohike exploded,
shattering the heavy stillness of the office.
He dealt with the electronic array as fast as he
could, then began tearing at the manual Heckert
locks like the madman he'd accused Langly of
being.

He whipped open the door, his eyes bulging,
feeling rather drunk himself then.

"You're a sight for very sore eyes, my dear."

"Am I?"  Coyly, she asked, "And why is that?"

"Because your loverboy thinks that somehow
he's responsible for your death."  Sounding
as though he'd been bilked, Frohike said,
"Go figure, huh?"

"Funny, you seem to be looking at me as though
I have bought my freedom from the crypt."

"My mistake."  Frohike opened the door wide.
"Come on in, pretty lady.  Langly needs to
see you asap."

Margot entered graciously, smiling at Frohike
who still couldn't help himself from gawking
at her.  "What?"  She glanced down at herself,
thinking that perhaps her severely straight-
legged jeans were too tight.

Frohike told himself to calm down.  "Nothin',
nothin'.  This way..."  He shook his head,
and ushered her to come all the way in.

Moving on ahead of him, as though she rode
an intangible cloud of stardust, she noted,
"I see you had the door repaired.  Nothing
taken?"

"From here?"

"Where else?"

They weren't on the same wavelength, that much
was evident.  Since they hadn't been able to
get a peep out of Langly, he decided she was
going to be the source.  "Why should we have
had anything taken?" Frohike wheedled.

Margot stopped going, and spun around, nearly
causing Frohike to smack into her, which he
wouldn't have minded all that much.  "When
Gustin broke in here, he came through that,
well, now it's repaired, door.  Richard told
me you have quite the very expensive equipment,
and with his wasting no time coming after me,
as he did, with Esther's help, he couldn't have
had sufficient time to erect some form of barrier
to prevent thievery.  So, I was just curious to
know whether or not you'd suffered any theft..."

Cooly, collectedly, Frohike replied, "So, lemme
get this straight.  Your ex broke in here..."

"Quite.  Richard decided to come back here to
construct some form of detector to warn us when
Gustin was within striking range, and no sooner
did he have its workings in place, Gustin stormed
his way in here, beat poor Lambkins to a pulp,
and dragged me off."

Ah, *Lambkins*, Frohike thought, the pet name
lingering in his mind.  The Lambkins who'd lied
his sorry ass off about everything being all
okee-dokee.  Frohike folded his arms across his
chest, and waited for her to finish her side
of the story.

"So, Max set you up so you were abducted by
aliens."  Which ones, Frohike thought, recalling
Mulder's numerous stories of their being two
distinct kinds.

"To be sure."  Margot's face wore a very
entrenched frown.  "For the life of me I cannot
understand why they let me go."

"So there was UFO activity that night."

"As Esther had promised there would be.  I
can't imagine what they did to me, although
I have this uncanny fear that they've done
something unspeakable."

All Frohike kept doing was nodding, taking
every scrap in.  He took her by the arm which
was made baggy by the oversized NPS sweatshirt
she wore, ushering her onward towards Langly's.
"So there's nothing much you can remember about
what they did to ya."

"No.  I do recall being very cold, and mostly
in complete darkness.  After those Park Rangers
rescued me, I was put in hospital, and I've
been there several days until I satisfied my
attending physician that I was healthy enough
to be discharged, thank God.  How I hate being
in hospital," she avowed huffily.  "Frohike,
I'm scared they'll come for me again."

"There's somebody you've gotta talk to, and
you're in luck.  He's supposed to show up here
anytime now."

"And who is this somebody?"

"Works for the Feds, but he's in a class all
by himself."

As Margot travelled, she marveled over the
fact that the Gunmen had ameliorated all the
damage Max had done.  "Does this somebody have
a name?"

"Fox Mulder.  The alien stuff he's into's right
up your alley, sister."

"*Fox* Mulder," Margot repeated as though the
Agent's name was an incantation.  "Now, where
have I heard that name before?"

"You and *Lambkins* stayed at his pad when you
were on the run from Max."

Remembrance sprang into her lovely eyes.  "And
you say he's due here tonight?"

"Yeah, he's good for calling on us at all hours.
The earlier ones of the wee hours, the better he
likes it."

"Quirky sort, what."

Frohike's sparkling, roguish eyes rolled
invitingly.  "Quirky all the way, babe, just
the way we like him."

"Where is Richard?"

"In his room, drying out.  He has his work cut
out for him."  They renewed their journey to
Langly's room.  "His new life's ambition is
seeing how drunk he can get every damn day."

Margot's resiling statement reminded Frohike
of a complicated puzzle.  "He's gone back to
drinking?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"He's got issues."

"Yes, I know, he's told me."

"Now you're one of 'em.  He thinks he's
responsible for getting you killed, far as me
and Byers can tell.  He's talkin' now."  Frohike
held her up.  "He clears outta here most every
night.  Gets hammered almost to the point of
poisoning, and it's me who gets to claim the body
at the local boozer."

"Gracious no!  But why should he blame himself
for anything?"

"Guess 'cos he came back here, and your ex got
ya away."  Margot looked desolate, and her eyes
filled with tears before Frohike could think of
what next to say, then he rushed, "When he sees
you, safe and sound, he'll be all right.
Guaranteed."

When they stood at the threshold of the better-
smelling little room, Margot clawed at her neck
with her right hand and exhaled, "Dear, God, is
this Gustin's doing?"

"No," Frohike whispered in an aside, "This is
his doing.  I just got him back from the bar
with him a little while ago.  Gustin's dead,
according to your boy.  Won't say how he died,
though."  The tail end of what he'd said was
lost to her as she rushed off to Langly, kneeling
beside the wide mattress that was flush with the
floor beneath a REM poster.  Her vision blurred
as her tears fell swiftly.

Byers looked up with a start, as though he
beheld a phantom.  His wisdom showing, he said
nothing, allowing the distraught woman to
seamlessly displace him on the bed.

"Lambkins, sweet dear, it's me," she cried,
wiping her sodden cheeks with two rough hand
swipes, having difficulty focusing on his face
which was a raw wreck.  "I'm all right.  I'm
all right."  She turned her head, looking up
at Frohike who stood at her shoulder and
whispered, "This is dreadful."

"He made a real ass of himself tonight."

Langly's bleary eyes sprang open as though
they'd been spring released.  His ears were
doing that evil thing again, playing their
cruel trick.  He gasped though, and his breath
caught, and with widening nostrils, as though
oxygen were being forced on him, he couldn't
believe she was in the room, holding his hand
with her two.

Without his glasses, and the punched eye so
swollen, he couldn't be certain of anything,
despite her silky aroma engulfing him.  

"This is tonight's worth of drownin' his
sorrows," Frohike said.

"Thank God you're here," Byers breathed.

"MARGOT!"  The pronouncement was a whisper, a
prayer.

The prayer, now answered.

"YES, love.  I'm here..."

But, his faith wavered.

"NO--NO--NO--NO!"  His frenzied thrashing re-
newed, and a powerful kick caught Margot unawares
in her abs.  She grunted, momentarily blindsided
by sharp pain, and the other two Gunmen lit into
Langly verbally.

"I'm all right, I'm fine.  Really I am she
assured them, and let go of the mattress she'd
been gripping.  She began rubbing the affected
area a little.

"You're the ghost in the machine now," Langly
panted, "how the hell did you get out?  You're
freakin' DEAD!  You're like Nairn the bitch.
Get the hell away from me--leave me alone!"
He recoiled far away from Margot, sorely
afraid.

"LANGLY!!" Frohike and Byers cried out
sternly in unison, the urge to punch him
seizing them.

"It's all right," she murmured, edging nearer
to him, her heart breaking because he was so
broken.  Slowly, she  reached out to stroke his
contorted face, and to his friends' amazement,
Langly settled down, allowing her to.  "I'm not
a ghost, Lambkins.  I'm flesh and blood.  I'm
the woman who loves you.  Gustin didn't kill me,
and why do you think Esther did?"  Langly just
stared at her, still unconvinced.  Margot sighed.
"I really can't explain much, but I'm alive and
well, and here to be with you, if you'll let
me..."  She continued to be careful with his face
as she inched closer to it and gently plied it
with gentle kisses.  She moved on to the shell
of his ear, and spoke further reassurances into
it, until she had him completely tamed as though
she'd used a tranquilizer on him.

"She's amazing, man," Frohike said through
slitted lips, envying Langly a great deal.

"She is, isn't she," Byers concurred, seeing
much of Susanne in Margot's manner.

Langly's eyes drifted shut, and he was softly
mewling like a contented child, happy at last.
She scooted next to him, and angled him into
position against her, his chin nesting in the
nook of her soft neck, a smile of pure syrup
glistening upon his lips.  He sniffed several
times, and so did she.

"Talk about havin' the moves," Frohike said,
enviously, sounding mezmerized.

"Beautiful instincts," Byers likewise shared.

Margot rocked Langly gently, with a patience
she'd been born with.

"Guess she's spendin' the night, huh?" Frohike
asked playfully, winking.  A wink that would
have made a fox covetous.

Byers winked back, every bit as slyly.  "Under
the circumstances, a very welcomed guest."

Quietly, they began moving off to give the
couple some privacy, but before they could
leave the room, Margot made a hushed request
as Langly nestled more snugly into her, pulling
her closer as if she were a blanket.  Her lazy
fingers were circumscribing delicate curly-q's
in his warm scalp.

"Frohike?"

The jaunty codger stopped in his tracks, and
whirled back around.  "Yes, my dear?"  He
tossed Byers a side-long look full of ginger.
His voice was shot through with expectancy,
and he told himself to tone it down.  What
chance did he have?  It was clear who her
choice was, seeing Langly who had practically
congealed with her.

"Do-don't leave me..."  Langly twisted fitfully
in her arms.

"Of course I'm not leaving.  Lie quiet, now,"
she cooed.  "I have something to make you
feel better."

Oh, yeah, I bet you do, Frohike supposed,
allowing the voyeurism to ripple through his
fertile mind.

Redirecting her attention again to the serio-
comic fantasist, she said, "Might I have you
to fetch a cup of warm water?

Byers could see Frohike preparing to say
something risque, so he blurted out, "That's
no problem."

Shrugging, Frohike brushed the tamp-down off.
"Yeah, we have plenty of that."

"I've got an herbal preparation which does
wonders with staving off horrible hangovers.
It's mildly soporific as well."

"Ya got that right.  Blondie's gonna have a
rip-roarer 'manani,'" Frohike rejoined, not all
that sympathetic.  You drink too much, you pay
the price with brain cells, Frohike thought,
keeping his smirk intact.

"Not if he downs my remedy," Margot vowed.
"It's marvelously effective.  Wait and see."

Frohike smiled tentatively at her, knowing his
Langly.  Even when the 'kid' has been saddled
with the worst cold or flu going, he would
rather die than drink one of Byers', in Langly's
own words, 'Horse-pissy brews...'

"An ice pack for him too, please?" Margot
finagled, making good use of the persuavsive-
ness her eyes naturally had.  She didn't like
the look of Langly's bloated one.

"I'll get both," Byers volunteered, and then
disappeared through the doorway like a jack-
rabbit.

"Do you still have my gear?"

"Yeah, he held onto it," Frohike replied matter-
of-factly, "everything.  Your laptop too.  Has
your backpack stuffed in his closet.  It's all
here, everything 'cept your cellular.  That got
lost along the way."  He began cracking his
knuckles, showing off his 'tough-guyness'.
"He's careless with stuff sometimes."

"Not to worry," she assured him, smiling.
Frohike dug her JanSport out of the closet, and
brought it over before she asked him to.  "The
preparation's in it somewhere."

While he dug in it, she hummed what sounded like
a lullaby.  Following a good deal of rooting
around, Frohike finally located the remedy
supposedly good for what was ailing Langly.
"Harrod's," he read off the foil packet.

"One of the exclusive distributors that sells
'Doctor Mambry's Herbal Curatives.'  Mind you,
I'm *not* a lush, first appearances notwith-
standing, but I like having this particular
blend around just in case a merry bash catches
up with me, or I, it."

"A 'merry bash?'  What the hell's that?"

"A hearty party."

"Oh, yeah...  Right.  Those," Frohike said,
sounding very knowledgeable.  "Can't pass up
the chance to party, eh?"

"I have been known to, shall we say, overindulge
now and again on such spirited occasions."

"Sure as hell.  Don't we all."  Again, quibbling,
Frohike said, "When I see him drink your stuff
down, I'll believe."  Byers returned with the
youngest Gunman's 'Star Wars' mug, filled to
nearly the brim, and a spoon in it which he
thought she might need.

"Now, for that ice pack," Byers said, and
prepared to set off for it.

"He ain't big on stuff that tastes like piss."
Frohike had decided to leave the 'horse' out
of it.  Seeing her face cloud reinforced his
wanting to have some sport with her.

"He isn't big on a lot of things that're good
for him," Byers reprimanded, wanting to
stick his foot in Frohike's churlish mouth
which was always too ready, willing and able to
hurt someone's feelings.  He needled Frohike
with a 'show a little class for once,' look of
sternness.

"Well, he ain't.  Like I'm tellin' ya something
you don't already know."

"Oh, he'll drink up."  Margot was sure.

"Wanna bet?" Frohike challenged.

"My head hurts worse--shut the hell up!" Langly
squawked petulantly, and fretted until Margot
kissed his filmy brow, and he settled down.

"Hush, now...  There, there..."

With a fiendish gleam in his eyes, Frohike
thought, Pretty Lady, you want the, bad-assed
brat, you've him.  Don't say you weren't
warned.  "Y'know, uh, Margot..."  He licked
his lips and spiked, "If you strip butt naked,
that might get his attention.  It would mine..."

Byers left the room in defeat.  He had mongrels
for best friends, and he smiled despite his
candid, irritated observation.

Margot's sultry eyes took on a mischievious
glow all their own, bathing Frohike in their
sensuous luster.  "He promised he'd do anything,
as long as I stay."  She kissed Langly's warm
temple this time.  "Isn't that true, sweetness?"

"Ye-yeah.  I said so, di-didn't I?" Langly
mumbled into her tender neck.

"I'm holding you to that."

"I-I ain't renegin'."  Pausing, he whispered,
"Uh...co-could ya talk uh, like qu-quieter?"

"Sorry, love," she whispered as gently as
snowflakes falling upon a field of downy
powderpuffs.

"It'so-kay.  So-sorry for bein' s-such a prick."
He hugged her tighter, never thinking she might
break.

Frohike wished he could get in on some similar
cozy action.  He hoped one day in the not too
distant future.  Before he was too old.  He
laughed inwardly.  He'd never get *that* old.
He mixed the brew in the cup the way she
instructed, and to his utter surprise, Langly
drank it with no further coaxing.  He even
said with conviction that her stuff wasn't piss.
In fact, he said it kind of tasted like straw-
berry NesQuik, one of his absolute favorite
non-alcoholic beverages.

"Good man," Margot awarded after he handed the
mug back to her, empty, and licking his lips.
She handed it off to Frohike who had nothing
to say.  She spoke to Langly again with the
same sugary soft voice.  "I take it, it was
all right..."

"Got any more?"  The wide-eyed blond hoped.

"You've had enough," she said like an authority.
"It's never wise to overdo what's sufficient."

"Understatement of the hour," Frohike said into
his teeth, keeping his mouth motionless when
he did, liking the way the gal handled his
weathered friend who was pure id.

Langly kept his crankiness minimal, not counting
at the outset, when Byers applied the ice pack,
despite the icy cold slamming into his frontal
and lacrimal bones, over, and surrounding the
affected eye.  Ignoring the discomfort, he got
solidly comfy again, against her, his 'bunkie
of choice' for what was left of this clear,
sliver-mooned night, in which the reflective orb,
a pale replica of a steely fishhook, sat in the
East.

"That's the stuff," she quietly tucked into his
ear.  Then to his friends she mouthed, "See you
in the morning, gentlemen," and hiked the
Spiderman comforter up over them both.  Langly
reveled in the succor her neck and collarbone
gave him, and smiling, like the cherub he truly
was, deep down inside, he murmured something
unintelligible, which caused her lips to lightly
glance off his cheek.  "See you in the morning,
gentlemen.  "'Night."

"Not if we see you first," Frohike bantered,
winking saucily at her.  Way under his breath
he said, "How's about I wedge myself in on
your other side?"  Margot, busy with arranging
the blanket just so, missed hearing his bold
suggestion.

"Down, boy," Byers said close to Frohike's ear,
flipping the light switch to the 'off' position.
"Rest well, Margot...oh, and you too, Ringo..."

"Night, guys," Langly said, all subdued, feeling
Margot's gentle breath tickle his nose, with him
snuggling against her even more, already feeling
in minter condition than when Frohike had hustled
and shuffled him out of Ryan's.


||oo||

End Part 15