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Title: An Offer She Can't Refuse Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het Romance Pairing: Frohike/Scully Rating: PG for mild language Summary: Frohike visits the tasty one, and things will never be the same. Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to me. I'm not holding my breath. AN OFFER SHE CAN'T REFUSE By: J. D. Rush I answered the door, surprised not only by my visitor, but also by his appearance. "Frohike?" He was dressed in a dark blue suit--an honest-to-God suit--a striped necktie (probably borrowed from Byers), his hair pulled back in it's tiny ponytail, neat, clean. . .SHAVEN! For a second, I thought the aliens were back, and had kidnapped the REAL Melvin Frohike. He looked. . .well. . . handsome is too strong of a word, but, not all that bad. He held out to me the single red rose he was carrying. "May I come in?" he asked, politely. I realized I had been standing in the doorway, gawking. "Yes, please do." "I'm not disturbing you, am I?" he asked, concerned. "No, no. . .I just put William down for the
night. And I was going to
review some case files." "Oh? I hope it’s nothing serious." "Actually, it’s very serious." And by his facial expression, I knew it to be true. I gestured towards the couch.
"Well, by all means, let's sit down and. . ." But before I got out another word, he dropped to one
knee and looked up at me, earnestly. "Scully.
. .Dana. . .would you marry me?" Surely I was hearing things. "Frohike. . .?" "Look, Scully, that baby needs a father," he announced, cutting right to the chase. "And since Mulder's not stepping up to the plate, I'm tossing my hat in the ring." I couldn't help but laugh. "That's quite romantic, Frohike." "I mean it, Scully. . .hear me out," he pleaded. "Only if you get up off your knees," I requested, softly. He stood up, facing me. Eye to eye. Something I've enjoyed with few other men. . .it was nice not to get a crick in my neck talking to him. "I love you, Dana. Like no one else will ever love you." Oh my God! He actually said it! Eight years of pining over me, and he finally said the 'L' word. And from the startled look on his face, I think he even surprised himself. But he was on a roll, and he wasn't going to stop now. "Look, I know I'm not the best looking guy in the world, and I'm certainly not the richest, or the smartest. . .but I'd be a good father to William. And I'd be a good husband. And. . .and I'd try to be a good provider. And. . .and you'd owe me nothing. I won't make any demands on you, I promise. I. . .I just want to make a nice home for you and your child." How could I not be moved by what he had said? Simple, honest, and from the heart. There weren't many chivalrous men left in the world--my friend was part of a dying breed. That's what made my next words so much harder to say. "Frohike. . .that's very sweet. . .but. . .I can't accept your offer." He shrugged, half-heartedly. "Oh, well. . .it was worth a shot," he muttered, with a self-depreciating laugh. He was trying to pretend it didn't matter. He was failing miserably. "Frohike," I said, gently, "listen to me. Someday, you're going to make a wonderful father. And a great husband. And you're going to find someone who loves you as much as you love her. And she's going to be the luckiest girl on earth." "Yeah. . .someday. . ." he sighed, sadly. "Believe me, Mel. I'm deeply touched by your offer. . .I really am. It's just. . .an arrangement like that wouldn't be fair to me. Just as it wouldn't be fair to you." I held out a hand, which he took hesitantly in his, and gave him a smile. "Friends?"
He looked at me with those sad hazel eyes, and flashed me a quirked grin. "Always." I leaned over and kissed him, oh so briefly, just a friendly little kiss. A thankful little kiss. His lips were warm and soft and tender and like a magnet, I was drawn in for another. This one--deeper, longer, hotter. . .more passionate. His mouth--so hot and wet and sweet. I melted as I fell into his arms, losing myself in the kiss. Our first kiss. Then, as quickly as it began, it was over. A wan smile crossed his face as he turned towards the open door, and he was gone, as mysteriously as he came.
++++++++++++++++ Title: Going Postal Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het Romance Pairing: Frohike/Scully Rating: PG for mild language Summary: Scully makes a decision. Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to me. I'm not holding my breath. Going Postal By: J. D. Rush The letter arrived in our mailbox a few weeks later. Addressed to me. Just four words. Four little words that changed my life forever. "Frohike. I've reconsidered. Dana." On sky blue paper, in flowing feminine penmanship. I read it again, not believing my eyes. "Frohike.
I've reconsidered. Dana." I put it down on my workstation, paced around the room manically for a few minutes, on the verge of hyperventilating, then returned to it. But it hadn't changed. It still said the same thing. "Frohike.
I've reconsidered. Dana." Picking up the phone, I dialed her number by memory. Then replaced the receiver. What was I going to say to her? What could I POSSIBLY say to her? I picked up the phone again, dialed her number again, and this time, before I could hang up, she answered. I asked if she would be home for the next hour, that there was something I had to discuss with her. She was quiet on the other end, though I could hear her shallow, hyper breathing. Finally she spoke one word: "Yes." That was all I needed to hear. I hung up, spent a few precious moments getting some things organized, then I was out the door. To meet my destiny. ************** "Scully, are you sure about this?" I asked
the lovely lady sitting on the couch beside me. Husband. I
was going to be Scul. . .ahhh. . .Dana's husband.
I didn't know whether to call Ripley's or Mulder, because this sure
as shit smacked of an X-File. (Well,
if we could FIND Mulder, that is--he seemed to have wandered off again.)
"Wouldn't you rather just try living together first?
You know, to see if we're compatible?" "Of course.
I just thought that you'd be more comfortable, well, if you had a
way out, that's all." "You obviously have never seen my bank book," I chuckled. Taking my hand in hers--so small, so soft--she spoke
tenderly, "Frohike, there are hundreds of reasons why people marry.
Some marry for power, some for money, some because they've been
promised to each other as children. Marrying
a good friend who makes me laugh and treats me well, who would treat my
child well, is hardly the worse reason." "And don't you want that?" I was fretful, knowing I was taking that prospect away from her. The small hand tightened around mine, and her eyes sparkled radiantly. "There are many kinds of love, Frohike, and sometimes the love between two friends is the strongest of them all." Seeing she wasn't going to waver in her decision, I
reached into my coat pocket and removed some folded pieces of paper, which
I handed to her. She looked at
me cautiously, then unfolded the sheets.
One glance at them and her startled gaze returned to me.
"Frohike, what's this?" "Why do we need a contract?" she interrupted, quirking one elegant eyebrow. She nodded, clearly digesting what I had just said,
before carefully folding the pages and calmly ripping them in two.
"We don't need a contract, Frohike.
We already know what we each expect from this situation." "Then it's agreed." She leaned over and kissed me softly, her sweet lips pressed against mine, lasting a few seconds too long--not lasting long enough. "Sealed with a kiss," she giggled. Sealed with a kiss. Scully: There it was again. That electrical tingle as my lips touched his. So delicious, racing down my spine, raising goosebumps along my arms. I found myself pressing further into him, drowning in him, wanting him desperately. I'll admit, I did it partly to see if the first time had just been a fluke. All these weeks, the thoughts have chased themselves in my brain: the impromptu marriage proposal, the look of utter despair when I turned him away. . .and that magical kiss. The one I couldn't forget. And here he was in my arms again, and I knew without a doubt that last kiss had not been an aberration. His kiss excited me, stimulated me in a way I hadn't known in a long time. It felt good. It felt right. And I wanted more, so much more. Unfortunately, that wasn't part of the deal. We were here to discuss the possibility of entering a companionable marriage. One of friendship, one that he had proposed to help me with William, and one, perhaps, he hoped would alleviate our mutual loneliness. He had promised me that he would demand no sexual favors from me. But could I promise him the same? Believe me, no one could have been more surprised by this reaction to Frohike's touch as I was. When I had first met him all those years ago, well, let's say he made an impression on me--and it wasn't a very good one. Over the past few years, though, things have changed between us, and what had started as a one-sided flirtation on his part has become a cherished friendship. Not just for the information he and the other Gunmen had supplied for me and Mulder, but also for the many hours of entertainment they had provided as well. (whether they were aware of it or not.) When I was pregnant and alone and scared, I knew I could turn to them for a shoulder to lean on and a sympathetic ear to bend. They are all such kind, caring men, and none more so than Frohike. He'd drop whatever he was doing to be by my side--I guess I got addicted to that kind of attention. As wonderful a man as Mulder is, I never came first for him. In my heart, I knew I'd always be first with Frohike. Still, his proclamation of love and offer of marriage was startling to say the least. But once he left, and I had time to sort out my feelings, it didn't seem as odd to me. I cared for him--and he certainly cared for me. He was intelligent and funny, and his stories could keep me enthralled for hours. . .the last thing I'd ever have to worry about with him was stimulating conversation. I really LIKED Frohike. . .and sometimes, that's harder to do than to fall in love with someone And as for William, I had to face facts--I was not only in a high-risk profession, but I was also a cancer survivor. If I were a pessimist, I'd say I was living on borrowed time. It was a great comfort to me to know that I'd be leaving William in good hands with Frohike. I knew, with every fiber in my body, that Mel would protect William with his life, and that he would provide a good role model for my son. Frohike's beliefs may be a bit left of center (all right, that was an understatement, but were they really any worse than Mulder's?) but he was still very honorable, and generous, and he had a good heart. He fought for what he thought was right and that was something I wanted William to learn-- how to be strong, how to be his own man. I knew Frohike could teach him that, and so much more--such as picking locks and planting illegal bugs and hacking into secret government files…okay, maybe there were SOME things I didn't want my son to pick up from Frohike. Still, the deciding factor was the kiss. I haven't exactly been a nun when it came to sex, but I haven't been a slut, either. I've experienced enough to make comparisons and to rate certain things--and that kiss was off the charts. I had never been kissed like that before--not that it was the hottest or the wildest or even the most passionate. . .just the most honest. There was no hiding the depth of his love for me when our lips met. It wasn't simply sexual desire I detected from him, but a sense of being precious to him. I felt safe with him, something I haven't felt in many years. And my decision was made. +++++++++++++++ Title: Going to the Chapel Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het Romance Pairing: Frohike/Scully Rating: PG for mild language Summary: It's the big day. Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to me. I'm not holding my breath. Going To The Chapel By: J. D. Rush I watched as she approached, wearing a simple calf-length white linen dress and new white shoes--low heel. Very considerate. Her accessories were few and tasteful--a string of pearls and matching earrings--and she carried a small bouquet of white roses. No matter how unconventional this marriage, the ceremony was to be as traditional as she could make it. She saw me sitting on the wooden bench and gave a smile and I felt my heart flip. I stood on shaky legs as she drew near. "Sorry I'm late," she apologized quickly. "I had to drop William off with mom, and the traffic was quite heavy." "Don't worry. I'm just glad you're here." I was starting to think she had changed her mind. "Better late than never, huh?" she joked. "Yeah. Jesus,
you look lovely," I sighed, wanting to be more original, but finding
my tongue tied in knots." Lovely? Surely she was being kind. I looked down at the navy blue suit I pulled out only for funerals, complimented with one of John's borrowed stripped ties, and shrugged. "I tried my best." Gesturing to the bench I was just sitting on, I asked, "Wanna have a seat? There's another couple in there already." She settled herself primly on the bench, crossing her
shapely legs at the ankles, very lady-like.
Dana Scully was all class. I
took a seat beside her as I felt my nerves kicking in.
<Shit, Frohike--if you can't handle the ceremony, what the
hell are you going to do when you move in?> "Where are the guys?" she queried, looking around, as if noticing for the first time they weren't around. "Didn't tell them," I confessed.
"Figured they'd just say we were making a mistake and try to
talk us out of it." I
noticed the lack of witnesses on her side as well.
"Where's Skinner?" <Or Doggett?
Or Reyes, for that matter?> She looked at me sheepishly. "Ditto." So apparently I wasn't the only one who doubted our
friends would approve of this union. "And
what does mom think about all this?" "Do you think they're right?" I asked, uncertainly. Those clear blue eyes locked on mine.
"No, but if you're having second thoughts about this, Frohike,
now is the time to say it. Do you want to cancel this now--no hard
feelings?" "No fair. I asked you first," she giggled. And at that moment, my future was sealed. To think I would have the chance to experience that laughter every single day was too tempting a prospect. I took her hand, feeling the tremors that matched the ones flowing though me. "Dana, it's the only thing I want in life," I told her honestly. "I just want to make you happy." Her whole face softened, and the smile she bestowed upon me warmed me to my soul. "You do." She leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, just as the door across the hall opened, and a happily married couple exited, followed closely behind by the Justice of the Peace. "Mr. Melvin Fro-hike?" he addressed me, holding out his hand. I shook it nervously, even as I corrected him on the pronunciation, "Um, it's Fro-hickey." "I'm so sorry, Mr. Fro-hickey," he apologized, and beckoned to me and Dana to follow him. "We're ready for you both now." The ceremony was short and sweet--and hell, I only stumbled over my own name twice. Not too shabby. The only real tense moment came when we were supposed to exchange rings. There really hadn't been time to shop for any, which was fine with me but I didn't think it was fair to Dana--a woman should have jewelry, you know? She was therefore quite stunned when I pulled an antique wedding band out of my coat pocket. "It belonged to gramma," I explained to her as I slipped it onto her finger. I really wish I could have had a picture of her face at that moment--her mouth open in surprise, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Five minutes later, after another round of
handshakes, I walked proudly out of the room with a gorgeous new bride on
my arm. . .and a pit in my stomach bigger than the ++++++++++++++++ Title: Confessions Part 1 Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het/gen Rating: PG for mild language Summary: Frohike has to come clean to Byers. Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to me. I'm not holding my breath. Confessions Part 1 By: J. D. Rush "Hey, Frohike, whatcha doing?" No, not now. I couldn't face him now. I needed more time to figure out how to explain all this. "Packing," I grunted. "I can see that," he said, evenly. "Going someplace?" "Well, that's usually why you pack, right?" I snapped back. But Byers was used to my bad temper and mood swings and didn't even bat an eye at my outburst. Instead, he invited himself into my room, and sat down on the bed next to my suitcase. He looked around the room, seeing the boxes filled with my books and videos (not THOSE videos. Couldn't have them lying around for Scully to find. I was leaving them for Langly). His blue eyes, so similar to Dana's, clouded, and his brow furrowed. "Frohike. . .what's going on here?" Turning away, I mumbled, "Movin' out." I didn't have to see his face to know the shocked expression it now wore. "Excuse me. Did I just hear you say you were moving out?" "Yeah." I still couldn't meet his gaze. "Frohike, for Heaven's sake, what for?
Is it something we did?" I
hated hearing the anxiety in his voice.
I especially hated knowing I was the one causing it. "No. Jesus,
John. It has nothing to do
with you," I assured him. I quickly cut him off. "It's not Jimmy, either." Yeah, we had had our differences, but he really wasn't such a bad kid. Just very. . .exuberant. "Then what is it?" he asked, hesitantly. I pushed the suitcase to one side and sat down beside him. Knowing no way to ease into it, I just blurted it out. "I married Dana yesterday." His big blue eyes got even bigger, then a smirk appeared, then the inevitable chuckles. "Good one, Frohike." "It's not a joke, John. I can show you the marriage license, if you don't believe me." The chuckles stopped, the smirk disappeared. "You're serious." "Never more so." "Dana? Dana
Scully? AGENT Dana
Scully?" And now that we had the identity all clear, the questions came fast and furious. "Frohike? How? Where? WHY?!" Figuring it would be best to just lay everything on the line, I took a deep breath and said, "I wanted to help her and William. She's all alone, John. Her mom is trying to help out, but I thought it'd be good for him to have a father figure." "You could do that as a visiting 'uncle', like the rest of us," he countered. "It's not the same as being there for the kid 24/7," I argued. "And besides, how would it look if I was just living with her, huh? Even if we are just living together as friends, people would jump to the wrong conclusion." "Friends?" he exclaimed, his voice going up
an octave. "You mean
you're not even going to. . .? "FROHIKE!!" Up another octave AND a decibel. "What ever possessed you to agree to this kind of arrangement?" I looked away and murmured, "Actually, I'm the one who proposed it." "A sexless, loveless marriage?" he asked,
clearly trying to get his brain to process the concept. He ran his fingers through his immaculate, short-trimmed hair and muttered, "I can't believe I'm hearing this. So now I have to refer to her as Dana Frohike?" I shook my head. "No, she kept her maiden name. Can't really blame her." "And William?" he demanded. "John . . .you don't understand." "You're damn right I don't," he said, angrily. "Explain it to me." "I just did.
She needs me, John. Her
baby needs me. And I want to
help." He jumped up off the bed and started pacing around the room. "I don't like this, Frohike. Not one bit. She's using your feelings for her against you, can't you see that?" "It's not like that at all, John," I tried to explain. "How can I get you to understand? Friends help each other out." "And what are you getting out of this, Frohike?" he challenged. "Seems to me you're laying everything on the line, and she's making out like a bandit." How could I tell him that seeing her lovely face each morning made it all worthwhile? That I would have done this a thousand times for just one smile from her, or to hear her laughter, or the chance to just BE with her? "I get more than you could ever imagine," I told him, honestly. He just shook his head and asked, incredulously, "Are you just going to sit there and tell me that you don't feel like she's taking advantage of you and your kindness?" I shrugged, "No, but if I'm being taken advantage of, then it's my own choice. I know what I'm doing." Leaning against the doorframe, he responded, "I'm not so sure about that. I think she's got you bewitched, wrapped around her little finger." "Gee, you mean just like Susanne?" I withered at his shocked expressions and quickly apologized. "I'm sorry. . .that was a low blow." He just smiled sadly. "No, no--you're right. If she showed up on our doorstep and asked me to jump, the only question I'd ask is how high." "What we do for women, huh?" I commented, wryly. "Special women," he amended. He walked back over to the bed, and sat down beside me. Fixing me with those knowing blue eyes of his, he confided, "I know how you feel about Scully, Mel, it's just. . .I hate seeing you settle for crumbs, that's all. You deserve so much more than that." I was truly touched by his concern. John Byers was about the best friend I ever had, and I knew he was only looking out for me. Yeah, maybe I could have done better, but I wasn't kidding myself. I wasn't exactly Prince Charming, and if this was all I could ever have with the fair Dana, then it would be enough. It HAD to be enough. "Those crumbs are more than I could have ever
expected, John," I confessed, "and this is the best thing that
has ever happened to me." Looking
up into his gentle face, I pleaded, softly, "Please be happy for
me." <Please tell
me I did the right thing. Please
tell me I'm not a fool.> "I'm scared for you, Mel," he replied, solemnly. "You're going to get hurt and there's no way that I can stop it." "I'm a big boy, Byers," I told him, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "I'll be fine." He sighed again. "I hope you're right. And I really do wish you the best. But never forget--you'll always have a home here." I smiled. "Thanks, John. That means a lot to me." Before I knew what was happening, he had reached over and wrapped me tightly in his long arms; I reveled in his hug, grateful for his support. "I'm gonna miss you buddy," he choked out. "Hey, guy," I slapped him on the back, good-naturedly. "It's not like I'm getting abducted by aliens. I'll still be working here, you know. You'll have plenty of opportunity to see my handsome face." He chuckled, "I know. . .but it's just not going to be the same." As he released me from his embrace, he asked, "Do you need any help here?" Looking around at the jumbled mess of boxes, I replied, "That'd be nice. Thanks." "No problem-o." <Problem-o? He's been hanging around Ringo too long!> He rose gracefully from the bed, picked up the box closest to him, and headed towards my bedroom door. "I'll get Langly and Jimmy. . .we'll have that van packed in no time." Shit! Langly? AND Jimmy? The three of them ganging up on me and playing '20 Questions'? Oh, man! "Uh, John? Do I have to tell them, too?" I asked, wearily. He gave me a self-satisfied smirk over his shoulder. "Sooner or later, Frohike. . .might as well get it over with." Damn him for being right. Again. That's exactly why I didn't want to hear it. "Langly's gonna be pissed at me, isn't he?" I stated, with certainty. "Yeah," he readily agreed, kicking a large box near the door, "but if these tapes are for him, I'm sure it'll smooth over his ruffled feathers." +++++++++++++++++ Title: Mother and Child Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het Romance Pairing: Frohike/Scully Rating: PG for mild language Summary: Did someone say honeymoon? Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to me. I'm not holding my breath. Notes: Title stolen. . .ahhh. . .BORROWED from Paul Simon. Mother And Child By: J. D. Rush What a wild, wacky week this one turned out to be. To say it was a period of adjustment is a serious understatement. I finally got the rest of my stuff moved in on Monday, and spent that day and the next fixing up the spare bedroom to my liking. Dana had taken a week's personal leave to be with me, and help me get settled in, something I felt really bad about. I mean, in effect, it was her honeymoon week, and she was just going to spend it in her apartment, cleaning and dusting and doing laundry? That just wasn't going to fly with me. On Wednesday morning, I greeted her in bed with a nice breakfast of fresh fruit and a cup of tea, then announced that we were taking a little trip. She shot me one of those classic Scully 'looks', and gasped, "A trip? Where?" I smirked, "You'll see when we get there. Just eat up and I'll get William ready." A couple of hours later we were holed up in a little
cabin on the shores of Of course, a lot of those laughs came from embarrassing situations, like when I wandered into the living room one night in just my socks and boxers--usual bachelor 'watch TV' wear--and she was sitting, open-mouthed on the couch. (Her only comment? "My, you're a hairy one, aren't you?" Why doesn't the earth ever swallow you up when you want it to?) Or the time I tried to impress her with my culinary prowess, only to end up almost burning down the kitchen. (Thank God for that pizzeria down the street. . .it's all we ate for those three days) Or the frequent times I left the seat up--an offense she said is punishable by castration if I do it again. (I hope she was kidding.) But I guess all those pale compared to when I accidentally walked in on her one day as she was breast-feeding William. I suppose it wasn't something I had counted on when I signed up for this gig. She was just sitting in the rocking chair in the living room, gently rocking William, and humming to him as he nursed. It was, without question, the most incredible moment I have ever witnessed--so natural, so perfect. She had looked up startled as I entered the room; I truly think she had forgotten I was in the cabin with her. I mumbled a hasty, "Sorry," and scurried from the room, reminding myself to be more careful in the future. Oh, I was careful all right. . .from that point on, I made sure that when I spied on them, Dana didn't know. Please understand, I got no sexual thrills out of it. None whatsoever. Only a serious pervert would get turned on watching an act so pure and loving. And I guess that's why I couldn't stop myself. This was a woman I had never seen before, one so tender and adoring and giving--the epitome of the fabled 'earth mother'. I had always seen the professional Scully: an intelligent, lethal beauty with a core of pure steel, surrounded by an impenetrable wall of stoic scientific logic. Occasionally, her vulnerability would come through, but those times were so rare, as if she were afraid to show any weakness.
So there I stood, watching the nightly ritual that had already turned into an addiction to me, when she suddenly called out, "Are you going to stand there all night, Frohike, or are you going to join us?" I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. "How. . .how'd you know I was here?" I stammered. "Your cologne," she chuckled. "Remind me to get you a new kind for Christmas." "Hey!"
I pretended to be offended. "We've
been married less than a week and you're already trying to change
me?" She tossed her head back and let loose one of those belly-laughs that I absolutely lived for. "Will you get your butt over here and keep us company?" "Your wish is my command, m'lady." I joined them on the couch, taking care not to avert my eyes so I wouldn't sneak an accidental peek. We sat there, side by side, an uneasy silence descending upon us, as William continued to feed. Figuring if someone didn't talk soon, I'd go insane, I blurted out, "So?" "So?" she answered. And we again fell silent. After another agonizing minute, I tried again. "Well?" "Well?" she repeated, and I heard the amusement in her voice. Fine. Two could play at this game. "How 'bout them Yankees, eh?" She burst into giggles, effectively breaking the ice. "You're not very good at small talk, are you, Mel?" "Okay, YOU pick the topic." She paused a moment then said, "Tomorrow's a big day, huh?" I knew what she was talking about: her first full day back at the F.B.I, on the now permanently Mulder-less X-Files. "Yeah. You up to it?" Giving a couple of small nods, she sighed, "Yes. It's time to go back. I miss my work, but. . ." She ran a light caressing hand over William's sandy-brown hair, "I'm really going to miss this little fella." "Don't worry, Dana. I'll take good care of him." She smiled, faintly. "How are the guys taking it?" I shrugged. It was still a bit of a sore point with them that they hadn't been invited to the wedding, but I knew from the few phone calls I had made to them this past week that they were starting to accept the idea of Scully and me together. "Actually, they're kinda excited. Langly especially. He loves babies." "They really don't mind that you'll be watching William?" It was one of the terms of our 'agreement'--I'd take care of the baby during the day while Dana was at work. Not only would she save a bundle on day-care, but she could also be assured that he'd have consistent nurturing and constant supervision. That was very important to her. . .and me. "Nah. No problem," I assured her. "It'll be fun to have the little guy around." "And he won't interfere with your work?" she asked, anxiously. "Dana, honey--I thought it all through when I
proposed to you. Don't worry
about it. There's plenty of
work I can do right from headquarters--research, layout, editing.
I just won't be so hands-on, that's all." "You never told me about that one," she teased. "Sounds like a good story." "I'll save it for another day. Point is, I'm getting too old for that shi-i-i. . ." I censored myself in front of the child, ". . .that STUFF anyway." "Well. . .if you're sure? I mean, I can probably still get mom, if there's a problem." "Dana, I'm sure. Everything will be fine." As if sensing his big moment, William pulled away with a gurgle. Without a second thought, I grabbed the small towel off the coffee table and threw it over my shoulder. "Here. . .give 'im to me. I need the practice." She handed me the sated child, then went about re-buttoning her blouse so efficiently I barely got a glimpse of white skin. Not that I was looking--I had my hands full. This wasn't my favorite duty where the kid was involved, but starting tomorrow she was entrusting his care to me completely--and I wanted to get it right. I placed him over my shoulder and started patting him gently on back. Dana scrutinized my technique for a few moments and nodded, approvingly. "I'm quite impressed, Frohike," she said. "Where did you learn to handle babies so well?" Oh, man, if she could have only seen my ineptitude with that senator's kid a few months ago! I had certainly learned a lot about babies in just those couple of days. I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could and replied, "Eh, it comes with the territory." "All I know is whoever taught you, taught you well." <Yeah, right, like I was ever going to tell YVES that! The girl's got a big enough head as it was!> Knowing her son was in competent hands, Dana bounced off the couch and announced, "I'm going to make myself a cup of herbal tea. . .can I get you anything?" "Nah, I'm okay," I replied continuing to pat young William on the back, getting a loud burp for my efforts. "You're better than okay," she giggled as she leaned down and kissed me on the forehead, planting one on William's head for good measure. "I'm really glad I made the right choice." And she headed off to the kitchen. I sat there stunned for a moment, so proud I was ready to burst. Dana was happy she had married me--and I was going to make sure she stayed happy. I turned to the young child slung over my shoulder and told him, "You know, William, you're mom is a very special lady. You're a really lucky guy." And as I listened to the lovely lady moving about the kitchen, still humming as she fixed her tea, I added, "Actually, we're both pretty lucky." ++++++++++++++++++ Title: Mr. Wizard's World Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het/gen Pairing: Frohike/Scully Rating: PG for mild language Summary: Just what is that beeping sound? Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to me. I'm not holding my breath. Mr. Wizard's World By: J. D. Rush "Frohike, can you come here a sec?" I
called out to Mel, who was tinkering in the living room. "Well, William seems to be beeping." I had just sat William in his high chair when I had noticed the sound. Frohike came flying into the kitchen. "He's WHAT?" "You tell me. Listen." I held the baby up to Frohike--the child was giving off a distinct, repetitive 'BEEP'. Frohike gave a slight nervous smile, and took him from my arms. "He. . .ahhh. . .he just needs to be changed." I followed him as he strolled over to the changing table. "And how, pray tell, did you know THAT?" "Well. . .this." He removed a small round clip from William's diaper and handed it to me. I stared at the little disk, still beeping quietly. "What IS this?" "A, um. . .a diaper alert. It monitors the dryness of the diaper--if there's any change in moisture, it. . .um. . .sounds." "Is it safe?" I asked, warily. "Of course it's safe!" he answered, defensively. "I wouldn't do anything to harm your son." "Our son," I corrected him. He still seemed to have a hard time understanding that concept. "So, where did you get it?" He continued changing William's diaper, and I thought he was going to ignore my question when he suddenly admitted, "It's. . .well, it's my own invention." I know I gave him the full two-raised-eyebrow treatment on that one. "You invented this?" His concentration obviously on the squirming child in his hands, he finally managed to get out, "Yeah. It helps out at work. If William's crying, it could be for anything. This way, we at least eliminate ONE thing from the list. You know instantly the kid needs to be changed, and, well, the kid's more comfortable and clean--not having to sit in a dirty diaper." I couldn't stop staring at my friend. "Frohike! This is brilliant." He looked up at me, surprise written all over his face. "It is?" Handing it back to him, he clipped it to the edge of William's new clean diaper. "Yeah. You should patent this. Parents will go crazy for something like this." Frohike was busy trying to get William's pants back up over his kicking little legs. "Why? It's just a silly little gizmo." I took pity on him, and stepped in to finish the job, getting William dressed with practiced ease. "Well, not all patents are earth shattering. What about mood rings, or those stupid dunking birds that keep dipping their beaks in glasses of water, or Thigh-Masters? And at least this little thing serves a purpose." Frohike scooped up the child, and cuddled him. "I don't know, Dana. I'm just a tinkerer." "So was "Yeah, and both those geniuses died penniless," he returned. "Look, I'm a simple man, Dana. Just give me a home and a family, and I'm happy and content." I felt my cheeks flush at his words. It was nice to know that he was as happy with this arrangement as I was; in fact, if I had to be honest, I was enjoying it a lot more than I ever expected. Sighing dramatically, I explained, "Well, I just figured, since you're always saying you wish you could do more for me and William--this would be a way to earn some extra money, that's all." "Gee, I thought you married me for my looks and all the time you were after my money," he joked. "Wrong on both counts, Frohike. . .I married you because you're such a snappy dresser." Once our mutual chuckles subsided, I added, "Seriously, Mel, what's the worst that could happen if you applied for a patent for this little thing?" "Gee, I don't know. It could blow up in my face, resulting in years of litigation, and I'd be forced to sell myself on the docks to pay for all the lawyers," he answered without missing a beat. "And you wonder why you don't get invited to more parties," I deadpanned, knowing when a dead horse had been thoroughly beaten. If his mind was made up, there was nothing I could do to change it. Pity. "But I still think it'd be nice if you could get some recognition for your talents." "You recognize it, Dana, and that's more than enough for me." Turning his face away, he added, almost sheepishly, "Besides, what if I failed?" Ahhh, so THAT was the problem. "Is that what this is all about?" I asked, sympathetically. "You're afraid to fail?" He shrugged, "No. Yeah. I guess." "Well, THAT'S very lucid," I smirked. He smirked back. "I just. . .I wouldn't want you to be disappointed in me, Dana. That's all." I laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and told him, "Frohike, I'd be proud of you for trying. You only fail if you don't try." Before I could continue, however, the little disk started beeping again. "Ahhh, Mel. . .is it possible there's a short in that thing?" Patting William's behind, Frohike grimaced. "Nope." I took the young boy out of Frohike's hands while he dug around for another diaper, and sighed, "Well, looks like its back to the ol' drawing board, eh, Mr. Wizard?" ++++++++++++++++ Title: So, Where Were YOU When. . .? Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het/gen Pairing: Frohike/Scully Rating: PG for mild language Summary: Fro and Dana debate the great JFK
conspiracy. Disclaimer: Not mine.
Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to
me. I'm not holding my breath. So, Where Were YOU When. . .? By: J. D. Rush "Whatcha watching?" "A documentary about Jack Ruby." "ANOTHER ONE!" "Yeah, A & E is running a 'Biography' marathon this week, for the anniversary of the assassination. 'The Men Who Killed Kennedy'. Can't wait for tomorrow night--it's Lee Harvey Oswald." "You still don't believe he did it, do you?" "He may have been part of it, but no, he didn't do it. I'd stake my journalistic reputation on that." "I didn't know you HAD a journalistic reputation, Frohike." "Laugh it up, party girl. You wanna join me here?" "Sure. What the heck." PAUSE. . ."So what's your favorite?" "Favorite what?" "Conspiracy theory. If it wasn't Oswald, then who shot JFK?" "I think it's pretty simple." "Enlighten me, Mel." "The C.I.A. Everyone knows that." "Hmmm. . .I thought it was the Cubans." "Nah. They
had motive, but no way to pull off the far-reaching conspiracy it would
have taken to cover up the mess in "And the Russians?" "Are you kidding me?
LBJ was a bigger hard-ass when it came to communism than JFK was.
It certainly didn't make their lives easier when Johnson took
office. And again, they didn't
have the means to accomplish the cover-up afterwards, like those bungled
autopsy reports out of "What about the Mafia? I had heard that they went after John to stop Bobby from investigating them." "Well, you would THINK so.
They certainly had a good enough motive. Except for one little
thing--the mafia prides itself on clean hits.
And "I can see that." "You can?" "It DOES?!?" "Uh-huh. But it's not *my* favorite theory." "YOU have a favorite theory, Dana?" "What is it? His Secret Service bodyguard shot him by mistake? The Manchurian Candidate scenario of a programmed assassin? That Kennedy knew too much about U.F.O's they've got hidden in Area 51?" "Nope, none of those." "Then what? C'mon, Scully. . .spill it." "Okay, it's a pretty well-known fact that JFK was dying of Addison's Disease, which was untreatable in the early 60's. And, afraid of what the effects of this debilitating disorder would have on Camelot, and his carefree, active Kennedy lifestyle, he ordered the hit himself, thereby dying quickly and relatively painlessly in a blaze of glory, befitting a war-hero." "Dana?" "Yeah?" "I think I'm in love. . ." +++++++++++++++++ Title: Rub-A-Dub-Dub Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het Romance Pairing: Frohike/Scully Rating: PG for mild language Summary: Dana uncovers something--or someone--from Frohike's past. Disclaimer: Not mine. Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to me. I'm not holding my breath. Notes: Major spoilers for 'Tango de los Pistoleros' RUB-A-DUB-DUB. . . By: J. D. Rush "Oooh, that feels good." "Huh?" "Oh, keep that up, Frohike. It's heaven." "Dana, what are you talking about?" I glanced up at him over my laptop, my eyebrow raised; I then let my gaze trail down to his hand, which was resting on my ankle. I had been reclining on the couch, working on a summary report for Skinner on the latest solved X-File when Frohike had wandered over, lifted my legs, sat himself down, plopped my feet into his lap, and hauled out his own Macintosh notebook. It was nice that we had finally reached a point in the relationship where we felt so at ease with each other, that he was as comfortable with me as I felt with him. I had settled back to work when suddenly he began massaging my sock-covered feet, something he apparently hadn't noticed himself. . .until now. He followed my gaze downward and jerked his hand away as if it burned. "Oh geez, sorry about that, Dana." "No, Frohike--don't stop. Please. I. . .I liked it." What can I say? It felt so-o-o-o good! He gave me a puzzled look, but did as I commanded, both hands now returning to my aching tootsies. I melted into the couch, as the massage got a little firmer and intense now that it had his full attention. "Wow, Frohike," I sighed, appreciatively, "you're really good at this." His fingers skillfully rubbed my toes and down along the instep. "Well, I had a lot of practice with Mikita. Her feet used to get so sore when we. . ." I interrupted him. "Who's Mikita?" Did that sound as snippy as I think it did? You'd think I was jealous or something. "She was my dance partner. And. . .and my wife." Okay. I'll admit it. I don't know which confession was more shocking. Frohike used to be a dancer? AND he had an ex-wife?!? What the hell else didn't I know about him? Correction. What did I REALLY know about him? We had been married just about three months now, but we both still had so many secrets. I wondered briefly if we'd ever learn all there was to know about each other. "I didn't know you were married before," I commented as neutrally as possible. "Nobody did--not even the guys--well, until we met up with her again a few months ago." "Really?" And this time the jealousy was front and center. "What happened?" "Nothing really. We were on the trail of a story and my path crossed hers. It wasn't planned, but it was nice to see her after all these years." He chuckled, sadly, "What am I doing? You don't want to hear about this." Like hell I didn't! We were silent for a few minutes, and it was obvious he wasn't going to volunteer any more information. Well, I didn't spend all that time with Mulder without learning some interrogation techniques. "So. . .what was she like?" I asked, casually, as if I was just trying to make small talk. His eyes took on a far-away gaze, and I suddenly wanted to take back the question--it was quite possible that I didn't want to hear this. "Ahhh, she was gorgeous. Drop dead gorgeous. Pretty face, hourglass figure, legs up to her neck." <I hate her! I don't know her and I HATE her!> "She was a red-head," he laughed. "What can I say? They're my weakness." I had to smirk at that. "She sounds. . .nice," I answered, lamely. He guffawed. "Well, I don't think I'd use 'nice' to describe Mikita. She was more of a wild untamed spit-fire, the kind of gal that grabs a guy by his cahones and won't let go." "Ah. I stand corrected." He just shook his head in amusement. "Actually, she had her moments. She could be sweet and gentle, even caring, when she wanted to be. That didn’t happen often though." He laughed again. "Nope, Mikita is definitely one of a kind." "And why isn't she still Mrs. Frohike?" I queried, my jealousy overpowered by curiosity. Why would he have left someone he obviously still cared about? A huge sigh filled the room. "She wanted things I couldn't give her. A big house, a fancy car--furs and diamonds. It's not that I didn't WANT to give them to her, but I just couldn't. My eyes were always bigger than my wallet. . .and my tongue has a way of making promises it can't keep." "Frohike, there's more to life than big houses and cars and all that other stuff." "Not for Mikita. She was a simple girl--poor her whole life. Then I came riding into town, promising her riches on the Tango circuit." "The TANGO!?" I couldn't hide the surprise in my voice. When he had said 'dancer', I didn't think he had meant the TANGO!! He smiled, sadly. "Yeah. We were good. Damn good. But not super-star good, you know? We made enough to get by, but not enough for the life I had promised her. When I realized what a mess I had made of everything, and there was no way to fix it, I. . .I split. I was the ultimate coward, Dana. Just upped and left her. She deserved so much more than that. . .better than me. But I was stupid--thought with my dick instead of my head. She was just so young and so beautiful, and I wanted her so bad. . ." Running a weary hand across his back of his neck, he sighed once more, "I think I've said too much." And with that, he stopped the foot massage, closed up his Notebook, and got up to leave. I sat up and reached out, clasping his left arm as he walked past. "You made a mistake, Frohike," I said, softly, sympathetically. "That doesn't make you a bad guy. You tried. . . but sometimes life doesn't work out the way you had hoped." He removed my hand from his arm and lifted it to his lips, kissing it tenderly. Gazing at me, he smiled, "And sometimes, it does." Then he headed off to bed. ++++++++++++++ Title: Tiny Bubbles Author: J. D. Rush E-mail: yanksfan462@aol.com Website: http://itak.slashcity.net Category: Het Romance Pairing: Frohike/Scully Rating: R/NC-17 for sexual situations Summary: A bubble bath gets out of hand. Disclaimer: Not mine.
Never mine, unless I can convince CC, 1013 and FOX to give them to
me. I'm not holding my breath. Tiny Bubbles By: J. D. Rush Scully barely made it to her front door that night. <What
a horrible day!> she thought to herself.
It wasn't the case that was so bad--it was the sheer boredom that
accompanied it. Hour after
hour on the phone, following up leads and eliminating the nutcases, and in
between the long expanses of time she was put on 'hold', she reflected
back to her years with Mulder. <Oh,
what I wouldn't give for one of those impromptu UFO chases!> she
found herself thinking. <Or even an encounter with some Those, indeed, were the golden days of the X-Files. But now, Doggett and Reyes were more, well, like herself. The leaps of logic were still there--in fact, John had pulled some off that even Mulder would have been proud of--but the leaps of faith were further and further apart. Everything was done by the book, with more and more time spent analyzing and digging up evidence before actually hitting Skinner with a 302 request. She could see it in her boss's eyes sometimes, that even HE missed Mulder's outrageousness and flights of fancy. No doubt about it--work just wasn't as much FUN anymore. She was just removing her coat when she heard, " "Whoo-hoo! High five me, Billy-boy! Way to go Raiders!" "Mel?" Scully called out, working her way to the living room couch, where she found her husband--her seven month old son on his lap--watching a football game on TV. She supposed that would |