Rating:    PG
Classific: V 
Spoilers:  The X-Files Movie 
Summary:   An expansion of the hospital scene involving Mulder, 
           Skinner, and The Lone Gunmen.  Contains a few lines 
 	   of dialogue from the movie, screenplay by Chris 
           Carter.

  
Visiting Hours Are Now Over 
by Martha 
marthalgm@yahoo.com 
  
  
Langly chimed in from the rear.  "What can we do?"  
 
"You can strip Byers naked," Mulder mumbled as he tried to pull
himself out of the hospital bed.  "I need his clothes." 

"What?!?"  The white space surrounding the blue in Byers' eyes nearly
doubled in volume.   

"You're not going anywhere," Skinner interrupted, as he placed his hand
on Mulder's shoulder to prevent him from moving any further.  "There
are people, out there, that are waiting for you - to make sure that you
don't leave here." 

"Which is exactly why I *have* to get out of here," Mulder replied.  
  
"I've got to find where they took Scully." 
  
Skinner was worried.  "If you try to leave, they'll . . ." 
  
"That's why I need Byers' clothes."  Mulder zeroed in on Byers, who
remained frozen with fear and shyness.  "I can walk out with these two,
as you.  Come on, help me out here." 

Byers felt all eyes on him and slowly became resigned to his fate.   
 
Cursing under his breath, he raised his hands toward the knot of his
tie and slowly tugged at it.  Shit, he thought;  this is so   
embarrassing.  Mulder, you owe me. 
  
Frohike pulled Mulder up to a sitting position and began to unhook the
oxygen line.  He gestured to Skinner, "Go make yourself useful and get
in between the bed and that guard's line of vision."  He began to
remove the outer gauze and surveyed Mulder's head injury.  "Not too bad
. . .  right now."  He turned to Langly.  "I'm going to need some
smaller
bandages." 
  
While Langly rummaged through some of the medical drawers for
supplies, Frohike stripped the injured agent of his hospital gown and
began to slip his arms into the shirt that Byers reluctantly turned
over.  As he began to button up the shirt, Frohike glanced up at the
smirking agent.  "What's so funny?" 

Mulder shook his head.  "It just seems like you've done this a time or
two." 

"What makes you think I haven't?"   
  
At that moment, Langly returned to the bedside with some adhesive
bandages and was somewhat struck by the conversation.  He and Frohike
exchanged a long look that was not unnoticed by Mulder.   

"When I get back, you boys have a lot of explaining to do," Mulder
teased. 

"Here, you finish up," Frohike said, ignoring the insinuating tone.  "I
need to take a look at this wound." 

Mulder winced.  "Ouch, be careful, will you?" 
  
Frohike peered at the wound.  "You have got to be the luckiest son of a
bitch when it comes to getting shot.  It's mainly glass cuts and
abrasions.  If that guy had bothered to roll down his window before
shooting you . . ." 

Mulder looked around for the time.  "How long have I been out?" 
  
"Probably close to ten hours now," Langly replied.  "You've been here a
while." 

"And you found out how?" 
  
Langly just beamed one of his grins.  "Scanners-R-Us.  Face it,
Mulder, someone's got to look after you." 

Walter Skinner surveyed the scene from the opposite side of the room.
    
Since being relegated to watchdog status by one of the strange trio, he
had been struck by the ease and familiarity of the conversation between
them all.  These guys must be the outside sources, he thought;  they
were the ones that his agents had made vague reference to over the
years. 
  
Byers handed off his pants to Langly, who traded them for the
discarded hospital gown and teased, "Now, you did pay attention when
your mother told you to wear clean underwear just in case you're ever
in an accident." 

"Screw you, Langly." 
  
"Hey, you're the one who insists on wearing the suits." 
  
"Come on, Mulder," Frohike said as he tugged at the agent's arms to
pull him off the bed.  "You've got to stand now." 

Mulder slightly swooned as he stood up for the first time since being
shot.  Frohike held him underneath one shoulder while Langly grabbed
the other arm and led the agent away from the bed.  Byers, now only
garbed in the hospital gown, took the agent's place in the bed.  Mulder
braced himself against Langly and the wall while Frohike pulled a chair
over into the corner, hidden by a changing screen. 

"I'll try and take it from here, guys, *if* you don't mind."  Mulder
lowered himself into the chair to pull on the shorts and pants that
Langly had handed him.   

Skinner walked back to the bed, making sure to shield Byers' face from
the doorway.  "Do you have any idea where you're going, Mulder?" 

"I'll know when I meet my contact.  Anyone able to get a lead on that
other EMT unit?" 
  
"Nada," Frohike replied.  "It wouldn't have mattered.  It's bound to be
a fake." 

"No one's missing a unit," Langly explained.  "Whoever they were, they
were prepared.  Probably had Scully followed."

"We might expect them to abandon the vehicle somewhere," Byers added
while trying to arrange the sheets.  "But by the time it's found . . ."


Skinner interrupted.  "If you don't mind my asking, what was Scully
doing over at your place?" 

Mulder looked up while pulling on the shoes.  "Oh, I think you know. 
You knew that she'd resign before taking a reassignment." 

At the word 'resign', the Gunmen all looked at each, exchanging
puzzled glances, and refocused their attention towards Mulder. 

"The OPR has its reasons for the actions it took," Skinner replied.  "I
don't like losing one of my best agents . . ." 

"They're not splitting us up."  Mulder attacked the shoelaces with a
bit of anger at the whole situation.  "The OPR isn't concerned with the
truth - we've seen that.  It's all appearances.  But neither the people
who took Scully nor whomever was behind that bombing are going to stop
me from finding her." 

Skinner knew that, at this stage of the game, there was very little
that he could do to stop him.  He returned to the doorway as Mulder
slowly stood.  "The hallway's clear." 

"OK, guys, let's take it nice and slow, but get me the hell out of
here."  Mulder began to pull on the suit jacket as he turned toward the
bed.  "And Byers, you need to bulk up a bit, or I'm going to stop
raiding your wardrobe." 

"Just be careful," Byers called out from the bed.   
  
"Yes, Mom," the three echoed back. 
  
 	x	x	x	x	x	x	x	 

Skinner finished his call to check on the status of the investigation
into the shooting.  He paced around the room a few times, adding to the
air of awkwardness between himself and Byers before he spoke.   "I got
an anonymous phone call last night about Mulder being brought here." 

Byers nodded.  He figured that being stuck in a room, half-naked, with
an Assistant Director of the FBI was no time to play dumb.  "Frohike's
idea.  He figured the sooner the Bureau got wind of what had happened,
the better." 

Skinner turned towards the door to make sure that no one was   
eavesdropping on their conversation.  "So why didn't you bring him in
yourselves?"   

"There was an ambulance already there.  And quite frankly, we were
puzzled to find that Mulder was the one being worked on.  So we went on
up to his apartment . . ." 

"And tampered with a crime scene." 
  
Byers innocently looked up at the AD.  "We had no knowledge of any
crime being committed.  We were . . . curious." 

For the first time since arriving at the hospital, Skinner began to
relax a bit.  "You guys have known him for a while." 

"A while . . . even before the X files."  Byers had a sudden
flashback to a warehouse and a shadowy figure who might have been FBI
or CIA.  Was it really that long ago?  "Listen, you don't have to stay
here.  The guys will circle around and come back for me." 

"No.  As long as I stay in this room, those people watching for
Mulder will stay out.  I need to give him time to get away from here." 

As if on cue, the door to the hospital room opened.  Skinner spun
around quickly, and Byers pulled the covers up halfway across his face.
  

"Hey, it's just us," Frohike whispered.  He approached the bed and
glared at Skinner.  "*Someone* should have been watching the door . . .
 we could have been anybody." 

Skinner, too tired to begin an argument, moved towards the door to
check the traffic in the hallway.  Langly had noticed that the AD was
still in the room and had held a position at the door, presumably to
act as lookout.  As Skinner drew closer, Langly circled away from him
and backed up towards the middle of the room.  Few things unnerved the
youngest Gunman like establishment authority figures who carried
weapons.   

A plan had been enacted to get Byers out of the hospital without his
original clothing.  "Here, put these on," Frohike said as he held out a
pair of scrubs.  "We even found some shoes near your size and an ID
that won't be missed for about fifteen minutes."  Byers proceeded to
get into these clothes faster than he had shed his previous set. 

Frohike turned his attention towards Skinner.  "Mulder will probably be
calling you after he finds out where Scully was taken.  We'd appreciate
it if you would let us know where he's at."  He handed the AD a small
card with the handwritten phone number that would route the call -
eventually (bless Langly's heart) - to the Gunmen headquarters.   

Skinner eyed the shorter man.  "And if he contacts you first?" 
  
"I have your number." 
  
Byers finished adjusting the employee ID to the hem of the shirt.  "I'm
ready;  let's go," he announced as he swept by Skinner, grabbing and
dragging Langly with him.  They opened the door and both glanced up and
down the hallway before signaling the all-clear to Frohike and left the
room.   

Frohike hesitated for a few seconds, thinking that more should be said
at that moment, that more should have been conveyed on the part of the
Gunmen for Skinner's speedy handling of the current situation.  Perhaps
he should have apologized for the abruptness of his earlier statements.
 He knew, from previous conversations, that Mulder had a sometimes
uneasy relationship with his AD - how much to tell him;  how much to
trust? 

But Skinner had surprised him at times, coming through with support
when least expected. 

The pleasantries would have to wait, however;  they needed to get as
far away from the hospital as they could before someone realized that
Mulder was missing.  Frohike quickly nodded in silent agreement with
the AD and, copying the actions of partners, preceded into the empty
hallway. 

Skinner remained in the hospital room for a few additional minutes. 
Mulder trusts these guys, he thought;  more than he trusts me at times.
               

Byers.  Langly.  Frohike. 
  
Now where had he heard those names before? 
  
  
end