Epilogue

Two weeks later...

A spate of furious typing, accompanied by some equally furious cussing ensued, and then tranquility rained.  Langly looked away from the T.V. set expectantly, took a swig of O.J., rinsed his mouth with it, then swallowed with a snort.  He massaged his abdomen which was still somewhat distended, but nothing like it had been a week ago.

"How's it sound?" he called over to Byers who still wasn't happy with the headline.

"Not attention-grabbing enough to suit," he said with the grumble that brought a smile to Langly's lips.  "I'm still tweaking."

"Bounce it off me, for editorial purposes, John-boy."

"Hmmm.  You're sounding anormally chipper these days."  It would be remiss of him if he did not credit Scully largely for Langly's nice recovery.

"I'm still alive...and--"

"There's Gina now," Byers ad-libbed by sounding 'la-di-da' and rhapsodic.  His beautifully expressive eyes danced.

"Yeah, you would say that."

"Hell yeah.  I am saying it," Byers covered rakishly.  "Your pretenses are wasted on me She's making a difference with you, Ringo, and you damn well know it."

"Says you, narc."  Not wanting Byers to tease him relentlessly, the way he had been when she first started coming around, bringing him MacDonald's food right to his doorstep, Langly parried, "She's okay."

"Just 'kay, huh?'"  Byers actually winked slyly at him.  "Okay my 'tighty-whiteies.' The way you've been acting lately, I'd say she's better than okay."

"Woulda lay off."  Langly got hot under the collar, and began rubbing his neck.

"This is kinda fun.  Seeing _you_ get all flustered like this on account of a 'femme.'"

"I ain't gettin' flustered.  It's just that..."  Coming up empty with a plausible excuse, he switched gears.  "Y'know, maybe I'd better have her stop bringing me so much grub from her job."

"What?" Byers said, shocked, "When is life on this planet scheduled to end?  Within the next half hour?"

"Ha--ha.  No, I'm serious.  I'm gettin' a paunch like 'Hike."

"Your swelling hasn't gone down completely."

"I'm not gettin' as much exercise like I used to."

"Oh?  Aren't you?" Byers said suggestively, sniggering.

"_NO_," Langly zinged into his ears.  "C'mon stop goin' there.  I'm not up to it."  He nailed Byers with a look so sharp, Byers almost felt the point.  "When Scully says I can do strenuous, then I'll do strenuous."

"With Gina?"  Byers was really enjoying this line of questioning, and the shameless way he was baiting the smitten man.

Langly felt himself going straight to crimson this time.  "None of your nosey business.  Damn.  What's with you today?"  Byers radiated his most innocent look.  Langly snorted again, and decided to get personal.  "Know what you should do?  You should forget Mata Hari; the bad news babe.  Gina's got this friend, y'know; name's Theresa.  You two might hit it off."

"I'll thank you to mind your own love life, and I'll take care of mine."  Byers' horns surfaced again.  "So, you two just hold hands for now."

"So...  What if we do?"

"Aw..."

Langly wished he could have whipped up out of the recliner to wipe that goofy smirk off Byers' face, but he was feeling very sore today.  Byers' look that was riling Langly to no end would have to remain for the time being.  Maybe if he leveled with Byers, he might stop making with the stale quips.

"For now, anyway.  We like holdin' hands..."

"Aw..."  Byers puckered his lips and made very passionate 'kissy' sounds.

Langly wanted to kill him.  "Gimme a break.  Act your age, not your shoe size, willya?" He looked away from the older man.  Safely in his mind, he thought, 'we hold hands, and kiss till I can't feel my toes.  Man's she sweet...'  The goofy look that had been on Byers' face traded places with Langly's.

Eager to switch the subject away from his developing love life to the next issue of the 'Lone Gunmen' at hand, he raised again, "So how's the headline read?  Gimme what ya got, and I'll tell ya how much I hate it."

"Punk."

"I'm the punk you'd miss like hell.  You and Frohike.  Gina told me how freaked you two were, and how much you did, first thinkin' I wasn't gonna make it, and then preventin' that quack from dosing me with his designer version of AIDS."

"Punk-ass," Byers said, freely borrowing from Frohike who was missing in action.  "Now, will you pipe down so I can read this to you?"

"Okay, shoot."

"You've been there, done that," Byers said drolly.  "Quite a loaded choice of words."

Langly's voice snagged on some of the words when he replied, "That was one sick logarithmic blip on the Richter scale, dude.  When all hell was happenin', I didn't think any of us would be makin' it outta that MacDee's alive."  This was the first time he had made even the smallest reference to the incident.

"What you tried doing was very brave, Ringo."

"Like I told Gina, it was very stupid. Incredibly stupid."

"You put someone else's life ahead of your own."

Knowing what he knew even better now, he said, "And for her I'd do it again.  Only, it _was_ stupid reacting how I did, without having some kinda plan.  I was all impulse."

Knowingly, Byers dug into his friend's face with eyes set for probe.  "Gina told us all about it at the hospital.  You couldn't have done any differently, under the tense circumstances."

"What kept going through my head was how I didn't want him blowin' her away."

"And that is why I'll always admire you for the self-sacrificing spirit you're always so ready to display."

"Not when it comes to pizza," Langly cracked.

Byers snorked briefly.  "We have more in common than you like to admit, you know.  It's what we men of action were born to be. Highly reactive."

Langly stared at him, utterly speechless, filled with raw emotion, feeling his eyes wanting to tear.  Gruffly though, he barked, "John?"

"Yes?"

"Would you read the damn headline already?"  Langly said, feeling puckish, trying his best to withstand the brunt of Byers' ocular penetration, and something else, he couldn't name.  It didn't get more revelatory than this, he thought sheepishly.

'I love this man very much,' Byers thought, nodding, and looked at Langly a minute longer, seeing the embarrassment in the younger man's skittish eyes.  "Okay.  Here it is.  Now, mind you, this is strictly drawing boards."

"Lay it on me," Langly barked again, with a little less bark this time.

"'National Drug Manufacturer Played Russian Roulette With A Fully-Loaded Syringe.'" Byers read it over again to himself.  "Well?"  He steeled himself for Langly's brand of 'no holds barred' criticism.

Langly was his edgier self again.  "It doesn't stink," he teased, while deep down, he was very impressed.  "It plays with the head; that'll entice our readers first, and make 'em wanna sic their teeth into the copy.  It's sure to be picked up by the mainstream press and media, no doubt."

"I'm still fiddling with the copy," Byers said, sounding as though he were thinking out loud.

"So's Frohike."

"Speaking of whom.  Where's our pugilistic gnome?"

"Said he had an errand to run."

"That's all he said?"

Langly nodded.  "Yup.  Well, that, and Scully's name eventually came up."  The friends' eyes twinkled in mischief.  "Y'know, John, Scully should just see the light, and get with our randy caveman.  She might be swacked outta her gourd just how real her feelings for him are, like his are for her.  Hey, y'never know, right?  Like here I was thinkin' I'd never find somebody, and then--WHAMMO, man.  In blasts Gee."

He was about to switch channels when the phone sounded off.  Already wearing a headset, he answered, "Yo, Lone Gunmen..."  On a whim he felt like chucking in, "Calls are recorded to insure quality of service.  Scarecrow here.  The tape's rollin'."

-'Yo, yourself.  Whatcha doin'?'-

Remotely, he killed the recording.  Muffling his mouth and the 'piece with his hand he said, "Just thinkin' about you, Gee.  Hey, girl, you're comin' over tonight, true?"

-'You want me to?  I mean, I don't wanna wear out my welcome.'-

"Hell, yeah, I want ya to.  Are you kiddin'?"

-'No, I mean it.  I don't want you getting tired of me so soon.  I'm over there every night so far.'-

Langly growled into the mike.  "Like I want ya to be, so stop talkin' circular jive, okay?"

-'Okay,' Gina desisted.  'You couldn't possible want Mickey Dee's again tonight, could you?  Should I bring pizza instead?'-

"How 'bout bringin' both?" Langly finagled, letting his innate, boyish whine saturate his voice.  As usual, he wasn't playing fair.  Did he care?

-'Oh, you...'-

"Aw, come on.  You know you will..."

-'And I know, you know I will.  You're hopeless.'-

He patted his rumbling belly, grinning till it hurt.  "I'm starvin'.  Me and Byers have been slavin' over hot copy all\ afternoon."  Dropping his voice even lower he told her, "I was like what you said before knowing you, boo.  When ya comin'?"

-'After the last show starts and is more than half-way over.  You know the drill.  The used car you helped me pick out over the web's great.  Makes getting around a whole lot easier.  And safer."-

"Glad I could help ya out.  Hey, like, ya wanna stay over tonight?"

'We'll see...'

Langly frowned.  Byers who had changed his location to listen in on another line, smiled.  "Aw, c'mon.  You can have my bed.  I'll pull out the cot we got.  Please?  P-l-e-a-s-e?"

-'We'll see,'- Gina said just as firmly.

"Okay, I'll make you change your mind anyway, when you get here.  You'll see."

-'We'll see...  Midnight then.  'Bye.'-

"Midnight.  See ya..."  Hurriedly, he got in, "Don't forget to 'super size' me."

-'Oh yeah, like I'd forget.  That'd be like forgetting our favorite song; the one we don't have yet.  Hope we have one of those, one of these days."-

Langly nodded all over the place, his heart on the verge of bursting.  "We will. We will, Gee.  Can't wait to see ya."

-'Me too, you.  Later'-

After the call ended, he started humming a very old song back in his throat.  Byers returned, resettling himself into his chair and picked up the newsletter, as though he'd been reading it all the while. Hearing what Langly was humming, he paused to listen, a cord being struck didn't take long.

When Langly came to the part, 'Freedom's just another word for nothin' else to lose.  Nothing don't mean nothing honey if it ain't free, now, now.  And feeling good was easy, Lord, when he sang the blues...' he raised his voice, so Byers would look at him, which he did.

With huge smiles, and a depth of soulful understanding that transcended any need for other words, they skipped way ahead in the impromptu tribute to Joplin, Kristofferson and Foster, to where the refrain went...

"'You know feelin' good was good enough for me; good enough for me and my Bobby McGee...'"

It was Byers who drowned Langly out with his gusto-filled 'la-la-la-la's.'  But Langly overpowered Byers' voice when his shook with laughter to end the song.

"'...Lord, I'm calling my lover.  I'm calling my man.  I said I'm calling my lover just the best I can...'"

Whooping, Langly skipped all the way to, "'Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy.  Hey, hey, hey, Bobby McGee...'"

"You've never sounded better in your life," Byers congratulated, and resumed reviewing copy.  Langly just kept singing, the 'Lordies.'
 
End