Chapter One

She rolled over, and over, and over.  Or, was it her head that was doing all that rolling, all on its own?  Swimming, but getting nowhere.  It was the first coherent thought that flashed in her mind as she neared waking.  The second was, after her eyes focused, and she lifted her head up, <Where in the world am I?  This is no place like home; mine, or anyone's with a modicum of good taste>  She winced in an effort to sit up, but only succeeded in hoisting herself up onto her elbows.  Without a doubt, this sleeping quarter was the exact opposite of her homey bedroom with its gracious motifs and charming ambiance.

She lay on a lumpy cot of a bed, in a drab, chaotic closet of a room.  <But I've been here before>, the idea jabbed.  Growing wider awake by the second, she realized where she was.  Recognized this messy room with its clutter of worn-out keyboards and tangled wires litter, its computer printouts, its multitudinous gameboys strewn about and its flood of mini videorecorder tapes.

<Yipes--the guys...the Gunmen...LANGLY> Scully flopped back down, her hand sailing to her feverish-feeling forehead.  <Oh, God!>  Flinching, she tried to process a sizeable chunk of reality.  <We Couldn't Have>
Then, the other voice, the snarly, unfeeling, broad jumper to hasty conclusions accuser, did what it did best.  It accused.

--YOU IDIOT--WHAT GOT INTO YOU?--

When the voice really got nasty, she shut it down in mid-cognition.  <Quit it, you foul-mouthed troublemaker--that's a direct order!>

She shuddered, but then the voice of reason, the voice she cherished, loved so very much, whispered in her brain.

<*You're fully clothed, Lambkins...Hello*>

Willing it with her lion-hearted determination, Scully sat up.  Uh huh, she was still wearing her delicious black cardigan sweater and stone-washed blue jeans. <Nah, THAT couldn't have happened......not with Langly...could it?> She moaned again, and rose from the bed, holding her head which felt as though it weighed the weight of a girder; the brain fuzz not unraveling.  <If we did, what possessed me?>

It took some time, but finally, she located her stack-heeled, off-black loafers amidst the clutter, and slipped them on.  Maneuvering unsteadily, she ventured out into the office area proper.

"Langly?"  Scully looked around, and called his name again.  <What's with the timid routine?> "LANGLY!"  She went to the bank of computers, but none of them were on.  "Hey, are you here?"  Agitated now, she plopped down on a stool, made some space by moving some stray computer repair tools clear, propped her arm up on the counter and settled chin in hand.

"'A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away,'" she muttered, then sighed.  "Not far away enough...to leave the mistakes of this one behind, I'm afraid..."

<I'm not shoving off till I know why I'm here, and not where I should be...why can't I remember clearly?>

An incredibly galling thought struck her.  <If he spiked that Coke with some perky powder, I'm gonna kick his--

*Wait!*...why??  *Because you're not being fair, Lambkins...*

<Oh yeah...who says?>

*I do; the voice of reason--the one you worship, remember?...*

<oh, right, you...>

*Me.  Lest you regret it later, you wanted to be here.  You insisted*...

<i did?...why?...>

*You didn't want to go home.  Didn't want the pleasing companionship and balmy camaraderie to end when the "Phantom Menace" did.  The Memories, well Short-term more so than Long, Long really takes a beating when the intruder shows up, although, it's no picnic for the three of us, and I pieced together what we could salvage from the maelstorm of your addled control center.  You told him:  I won't bite'...*

<How come i don't remember that clearly?...>

*Oh, it's a miracle we can manage to recall anything of much value before the big shutdown, when you bounce over to automatic pilot.  We're rendered useless, and most assuredly not ourselves until the interloper disappears.  We're irresistably restrained, and detained...*

<By what?...>

*Can't answer that for you right now...don't have all the facts.  That's your job.  You'll have to supply those, besides, both the Mems and I have our processing cut out for us, sorting out the "Menace"...*

<i really LOVED that movie...haveta see it again...>

*Yes, we will, if only to check if we've got the sequencing straight.  But, returning to the issue at hand:  spending the night with tall, blond and obliging...*

<So you're saying we...we...>

Quite unexpectedly, the several locks of the office's door clicked, and the object of the confounding, one-sided conversation lunged inside to get in out of the considerable wind.  He really did look like the Scarecrow of Oz fame, with his fly-away hair hanging every which way.  Seeing her sitting at the equipment counter, as though she was waiting for him, elicited an immediate smile from Langly.  His facial expression waxed warm and friendly, positively glowing in outreach, as the unexpected events of a few hours ago crowded his memory.

"Morning, Dana.  How ya feeling?"  After he locked and chained the door back up, he ambled over to her.  Looking content, he gave her a tight little hug with his free arm.  In his right hand, he toted a large McDonald's take-out bag which was crammed with tasties.

<Deeply weird.  Can't you tell?>  "Uh, hi...fine.  Uh, when did you get up?  What've you got there?"

"You sure?  You were so orbital last night."  Langly set the bag down before her, after clearing away more equipment paraphenalia, and moving one of the computers back some.  "You deserve a break today.  I got up at about seven.  Thought maybe you'd be hungry, so I split to grab us some breakfast."

<Orbital?   And, "Us"...uh oh, we're an 'us' now...just great...and you're the one who said he needs HIS head examined...

--TAKE A NUMBER!--

*Leave Lambkins alone, you bullying meddler.  You'll poison us all with that brand of sarcasm, one day...*

Scully eyeballed her wristwatch, but asked him what time it was despite the fact.  She'd never remembered him looking so sure of himself as he did at this point in time.

"Nine-forty.  The nearest Mickey Dee's a hike from here, but I walked anyhow, 'cause it's still faster than waiting for the number ten.  It's going to be a gorgeous day.  Sure hope the contact arrives on schedule, or better still, earlier, so I can get out and enjoy most of it.  It's been ages since I just claimed a day for hanging out at the park."  Precipitously, a perturbed look crossed his face when he sensed there was something bothering her.  "Hey-uh, do you like uh eat McDonald's?"

Having nothing remotely close to an appetite, Scully just looked at him, wondering if he would bring the matter of their intimacy up first. She felt her anger spark again.

<Breakfast at McDonald's...definitely NOT a favorite thing>

*Listen, Precious, he's an enigma, and your suppositions are goading you to harp on what he's not, but his intentions are in the right place; right along with his heart.  He does have feelings too.  Does that seem strange to you?  Don't you dare hurt them, despite what you may think at this stage.  'Kay?  Do it for that old-fashioned notion of having good manners.  At least be civil.  Do it for Mom, your forebearing embodiment of gentility and deference.  A little greasy food won't kill you.  Neither will some indulgence.  Langly's not Mulder, he's his friend; same as you, for that matter.  He deserves to stand on his own merits.  You'd want the same consideration, wouldn't you?*...

Oh, all right, you're devastating, you know that?>

Scully's smile finally put in its appearance.  She nodded, and threaded her hair behind her ears.  "I'm starved.  What did you get?"

Digging into the bag, Langly brought up three styrofoam containers, each containing sausage bagels; one for her, two for him.  It had taken some pleading for them, but his begging had finally won out, and the young man who'd waited on him had acquiesced to having the special order made up.  Additionally, for Scully, he'd purchased an order of hotcakes and sausages, along with a plain biscuit, a large-sized cup of coffee, some oj and two hash browns.

"Who's supposed to eat all this?"  She managed a hint of playfulness in her tone.

<*A real sweetie isn't he?  Just look at all the trouble he's gone to. You're doing just fine, Lambkins.  You do me proud...*>

<He really is something special...he didn't have to give me half his jackpot>

*Yes, isn't he?  And, no, he didn't...*

<How come i never really noticed before?>

*You're witnessing it for yourself, firsthand...>

<But, maybe he thought i owed him big for giving me all that money, so he got me in the sack as pay back!>

*That's harsh.  Have him answer for himself, why don't you?*

He grinned right back, sheepishly.  "Uh, yeah.  Guess I got carried away, as usual.  Comin' down off the 'Star Wars' high.  I'm all set to stoke.  Figured maybe you'd be too.  Whatever you can't finish, Dana, I will.  No sweat."  He broke open the bagel container and began chowing down with a vengeance.  "Man, I'm starved too!"

<He may look like a waif who could blow away if breathed on too hard, but he sure doesn't eat like one...he's putting it away like a burly trucker...wow>

Scully opened the container of hotcakes, accepted the knife and fork he offered her after he'd removed his coffee and juice from the bag, and started in.  She picked at the fast-food at first, but as she ate, an amazing thing happened.  Her appetite started kicking in, and something her mom was fond of saying buzzed her brain.  'Eat for the hunger that comes...'

"Is it cool?"

"No, actually everything's quite warm."  She beamed at him, meaning it.

"No, no, I mean is the food okay?"

"Oh...right.  Yeah, it's delicious."  Play acting was no longer necessary.  She found herself enjoying the entire experience.  McDonald's breakfast was edible, and Langly was an offbeat host, but he was, as her reasoning had convinced her to view him, a well-meaning unconventional, who was giving it his all to be her friend.  Perhaps, too good a friend.

*Don't go there anymore, Lambkins, until you get the facts*

She considered all those times Mulder had tried coaxing her to just sample a 'Big Mac'.  ["C'mon, just one tiny bite, it'll do ya good, Scully.  Would I lie?"]  Having turned her nose up each time, he'd teased that it would stay that way.

--MULDER--THAT'S RIGHT, MISSY, MULDER.  REMEMBER HIM? THE GUY YOU'D GIVE YOUR LIFE FOR.  THE GUY YOU IMAGINE YOURSELF WITH NEARLY EVERY CHANCE YOU GET.  WHAT HAPPENS NOW, LITTLE MISS ONE NIGHT STAND?--

"Nothing--now just shut up!"  she mumbled to herself, louder than she'd realized.  She felt another wave of moodiness wash over her, and shook her head.

Langly gave her strange looks in between bites.  "Are you really down with the food?  You don't have to song and dance with me."

Blinking a few times, Scully nodded.  "Don't mind me, I'm still dreaming.  I have this bad habit.  I over analyze to the point of complete distraction."

"I know what you mean.  'Phantom' was all-out heavy.  It wiped me industrial strength.  It's just that for a second there, you looked like you'd just been royally screwed, man."

Her eyebrows flew up, then knitted for the deep frown.  Finding it difficult to do then, she forced eye contact to look him squarely in his eyeglass magnified ones.  "You absolutely loved the movie, didn't you?"  <Royally, it was>

"As much as I like 'Dungeons an' Dragons'; uh, Advanced that is.  An' that's a whole lotta like.  In fact, it might be a whole 'nother' universe of like."  He hesitated before adding,  "It...uh...could easily turn out to be how much I like...you, too..."

Scully held his intensely tender gaze, as a shiver went through her.  "'Dungeons an' Dragons', and that is?..."

"Uh, huh.  The vid game I'm having a love affair with.  Lord Manhammer in attendance, and at your service, M'lady."

"OH, I see.  I know next to nothing about gaming. Maybe you'll show me what the fascination is, one of these days."

"It'd be an honor."  Langly downed his oj in one gulp, and then bit into his second sandwich, once he'd torn it away from its container.  "You loved 'Phantom' too, didn't you?"

"I did.  I think I need to see it again.  Very soon."

"Yeah--me too!  Hey, maybe we can see it again, together, so we can compare what we missed the first time."

"I have a feeling you got more out of it the first time, than I did..."  She thought about what she'd just said and sighed.  <In more ways than one?> Sipping more of her coffee, and inhaling deeply, she judged the time was ripe for venturing into extremely 'rocky,' unchartered terrain, knowing it was wiser to speak, than to keep silent and stew.

The sticky subject would be harder to broach now, because she couldn't deny there was a curious chemistry between them.  A certain glowing aura that hung about their developing friendship, which she perceived as being inexplicable, but nevertheless, real; elemental.  There was something captivating about him that seemed to give her permission to be free.  It felt as though he'd re-animated the feisty, freckled-face tomboy in her, whom she thought she'd lost along the way, forever.  That was why.  He beckoned that tomboy to come out and play with him; there was no shame in it.

Langly was a kid at heart, a quirky one at that, but he wasn't childish.  To the contrary, she suspected he was brilliant, with an IQ soaring to the stratosphere; a bona fide genius.  Not the Mulder kind of smarts, but the nutty professor kind, who'd have that one female student in his class who would spend her weekends grading his exam papers, just for the meager recognition paid.  She knew now, in all its clarity, that it was imperative she didn't hurt him with thoughtless words and stormy accusations.  Even if he had put dope in the Coke, she conceded, he'd probably figured I'd enjoy the movie more.  She'd give giving him the benefit of the doubt her best shot.

"Ring?"

"Yeah?" he promptly responded, as he finished wisking away some pesky crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

"We did it last night...didn't we?"

"Did what?"

Scully tried not to roll her eyes, but before she did, she looked down at her buttery, syrup-laden hotcakes. <Oh, well...here goes>

"We, we slept together."

"Oh, that."

<Oh that?  Yeah THAT...you, you pothead>

*Easy, Lambkins, Easy.  Cool down.  What were you just thinking?  Aura? Chemistry?  Bona fide genius?  Not wanting to hurt him.  Benefit of the doubt?  Don't go for the jugular off the blocks...explain yourself.  Calmly*>

"Yes, that.  I don't, re...what I'm trying to say is that I, I don't really remember...much.  I'm sure you were magic.  I must have been so far out of it.  Even now I feel so hungover...so spent."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about having sex with you--"

"SEX?  WITH ME?"

"Who else?  We had it, didn't we?  DIDN'T WE?"

Turning beet red, and going bug-eyed, Langly started gagging on sausage remnants lodged in his throat.  He chugged down his milk, and swabbed the creamy white rivulets streaming from his mouth, with his hand. When he had recovered enough from shock and near- asphyxiation, to speak, he wheezed, "Y-you think we got down?  You've gotta be seriously trippin'--still!"

"That's just it," she replied, sounding atypically mystified, "I cannot remember what happened once we got here.  It's so hazy, with bits and pieces trying to filter in, but not truly coalescing.  After I stopped the car, that's where I lose memory.  You didn't put something in the Coke, right?"

Feeling as though she'd just slugged him with a baseball bat, and glove, Langly shook his head somewhat maniacally.  "Gimme a break.  You think I'd get you stoned, without telling you?  Man!  I told you I've been there, done that.  I was only kiddin' about gettin' a buzz off Coke.  I didn't mess with it--and I sure as he--"  He cut himself off, knowing where this kind of anger could lead.  The livid zone was dead ahead.  He took the necessary moments to calm down before continuing.  "I didn't mess with you either.  What do you think I am?"

"You didn't?"

"Don't believe me, huh?  Like all of a sudden I'm spaced-out Doctor freakin' Strangelove?"

"But, but."

"I thought it was a goof, thought I was the one trippin', but you're the one who started."  Langly scrutinized her severely with eyes brimming dismay, that drilled.  "Maybe it's hard for you to believe, but you started coming on to me, Scully.  Yeah, you did.  Totally big time.  You were all over me in the car.  You gripped my face, and lip-locked me as I was about to say goodnight.  When I got out, you raced around to my side, like you weren't about to let me get away.  You grabbed my hand and started yanking me to the lab, giggling your head off.  Real loud.  When I told you that me and the guys have this sorta rule about having women stay over, even when one of us is on our own, you said it'd be, 'Cool.'  You said you were warm for my form, and wouldn't bite."

"I said that?"

He felt his temperature rise then, much as it had last night, in response to her insistently suggestive carrying-on.  "You kept calling me cutie as you led me to the storage room until you...till...you..."

"Until I what?"

Langly bit the side of his lower lip.  "You did a little 'Vida Loca' number, and passed out."

She ran her hand through her hair, feeling a cloying sense of unnerving disquietude envelope her.  <What the...am i going nuts?...i tried to jump him?...then, passed out?...Why?...And why can't i remember?...This is sick...

*Ah, now that bears investigating, Lambkins*

"What exactly do you mean I did a 'Vida Loca' number?"

"Let's just say you'd better keep your day job, Dana.  Hope there aren't any more floor shows in your future.  It got intensely aberrant, man.  Lame-oh!  'Specially when you started strippin', but I wouldn't let you, so you tried peelin' off my shirt."

"Oh...God!"

Langly reached out to cover her hand with his, as her chin came to rest against her chest, and her other hand flew to her head.  "After you'd passed out in my arms, I carried you in there, and laid you--I mean I PUT you on the cot.  You kinda semi came to long enough to tell me that you were going to be a good little girl from now on, 'Daddy,' and would I hold you till you fell asleep, which I did.  Once you were out again, and I was sure you'd be okay, I went to the car.  Since it wasn't locked, I slept in there, to give you some privacy."

Seeing that the aspersions she'd cast on his character had dampened the cheerfulness of his disposition, that, and his having to recount the sleazy tableau, she turned her hand over in his, palm up, and squeezed. "Please, Ring, forgive me for leaping to some very wrong, very biased, and distressingly stupid conclusions.  I have no idea why I behaved the way I did, but I'm sure glad you were with me to look after me, when I turned into Dana the Tramp.  Forgive me for what I said about the Coke.  That was rash, and uncalled for.  I feel so dumb.  Thanks for what you did.  Thanks for everything.  Still friends?  We'd better be, Mista."

"The good vibes aren't damaged.  You're better than twenty chat rooms, and you're not THAT bad a dancer.
Yeah, sure--but.  Lemme state for the record:  I DON'T take advantage of my friends--ain't no way.  That's anathema, man.  No matter how loopy they might get.  I'd never turn you on, or do you...unless you...uh, just forget that.  I just wouldn't, that's all."  He eyed her unopened bagel container longingly, then pointed.  "Hey, you gonna eat that?"

"It's yours."  She took her hand from his, and stammered, "I don't know what to make of me.  Seems I get freakier with every year that passes since having been assigned to the X-Files."

"Are you going to finish your hotcakes?"

"Yes.  Yes I am.  You can't have all my food, you bottomless pit," she teased.  Taking up her coffee again, she drained the cup, picked up the fork and resumed consuming the stack.

As Langly started in on her sandwich, which was a tad cold, he said thoughtfully, "Ya know, the way you were last night was like a repeat of Vegas.  How you were during Jimmy's autopsy, then with that circle of grabby convention guys in the hotel lobby, where you starred as Bimbett the Party Girl.  'Hike told us all about how he rescued you from those good time losers.  And even when I came into the room, and Suzanne Modeski was de-bimboing ya ...yeah.  Remember?  I came in, you said, 'hi, Cutie,' she shot you up with her antidote, you promptly fell out, and I asked if you were having a bad trip.  When you came to, you seemed normal enough."

Scully stopped chewing and looked as though he were speaking about someone else entirely.  "I don't remember...any...of that happening ...either..."

"Yeah, well it did.  Maybe you're having a relapse or something."  He removed his glasses to rub his stingy eyes which were red.  His neck had a whopper of a crick in it, from his having to sleep all curled up in the fetal position most of the night.  Raising his right hand, he started massaging the soreness.

"You were given the same mind control drug.  Why haven't you flipped out?"  Scully eyed him charily, but it slowly dawned on her that he was hurting.  "You haven't, have you?"

Langly frowned.  "Not since the last time I checked.  Suzanne said her drug affected people's higher brain functionings differently.  For some unknown reason, maybe I'm not susceptible to a relapse, but you are.  Maybe it's a gender thing, but I'm just thinkin' out loud."  He sighed, and pondered the implications of what he'd just said.  "Her junk's gotta be potent and complex.  Maybe in your system the antidote wore off too quickly, thereby enabling the M-C drug, or a variation thereof, to gradually reassert itself, or reconfigure into something more insidious.  Maybe the drug went dormant as a recombinant with a blood chemical, and an organic or inorganic triggerer acted upon it to re-release it back into your bloodstream."  Shrugging, Langly closed his eyes and rolled his head from side to side a few times.

Scully gave him a worried look, and yet, at the same time was quite taken with his off the cuff postulations.  "If your hypotheses are supposed to be comforting thoughts, forget it.  But, I'll admit they warrant investigation.  Something's definitely awry."  Then, deciding to pay him a compliment from left field, she said, "Have you ever considered coming aboard with the F-B-I on a legitimate, full-time basis?  You may be wasting your talents.  The pay could stand improvement, of course, as Mulder painfully reminds, but the travel's unlimited, with above average expense coverage.  The health benefits aren't that shabby either."

Langly just groaned.

She couldn't discern whether that was his answer, or his present state of discomfort.  Deciding it was the latter, she finished eating and invited, "Here, sit down."

"Get yourself checked out for stray traces of the drug, or anything fluky, a-s-a-p."  Tiredly, he obeyed, but once seated he exclaimed in surprise, "Hey--what's this action?"  Despite his reluctance, his eyes snapped shut as he succumbed to the gentle pressure of her skillful kneading.

"Detecting comes with my job experience.  Self-massage isn't nearly as effective as a massage administered by someone other than oneself, when one has a stiff neck.  And you have one, no thanks to me."  She gathered up his hair to move it off to one side.  "Now, relax...you're a knot."  Langly nodded, but his hunched shoulders tensed up even more in response to her soothingly firm, but unsettling touch.

"Uh, Dana, you really don't haveta...have...tahhh, yeah ...that feels sweet--but, but...you don't have to do this..."

*Lamkins, it's...it's happening again...I'm losing you.  Nothing I can do to assert myself, such as with the last time.  The shadowy depressor is back.  Goodbye for now.  I'll be with you once more, when this vile alien's hold weakens.  Terribly sorry, and do be careful while pure impulse, and freedom from inhibition now hold sway*

Squealing laughter with abandon, Scully wrapped her arms around Langly's neck, and zeroing in, fairly slammed her mouth into his ear.  "I--I won't bite, Cutie," she whispered breathily, and nuzzled his ear with her nose.  Then, after puffing a breath into it, she started nibbling.  "Well, n-not hard, an-any way," she sniggered between nibbles.

When she stuck her tongue in his ear, she'd gone well past his point of embarrassing return.  He whipped around to hold her off, far at bay, feeling panicky, and the determined gleam in her eye registered but good.  Indeed, this time it looked as though she might succeed in having her way with him, which given the circumstances, would not be the 'coolest' thing to let happen.  He wasn't a prude, and she was SO fine, but--uhah--he was a man of his word.  He liked his women rational, not totally zonked out of their minds.  And Scully wasn't just some woman, some dippy, when she wasn't like this, throw-away chick.  She was the luminous ivory tower ideal; the forbidden, and yet, the blithe possessor of the gal next door mystique.  Eternally, she'd be the high priestess of righteous babedom, in his qualitative estimation.  He was not about to sully her divinity.

"Oh No!  Not Again!"  Battling to recover from the initial throes of being turned on, he cried, "I'm getting Mulder over here pronto!  He'll know what to do."

"Mu-Mul...Mulder?  Wh-wha-whatza Mul-de-der?"

Backing away from her, and working his fingers into a cross, as though he really were warding off a vampire, he shouted, "He's your partner.  You know?  Partner? He, Fox.  You, Dana.  You're F-B-I agents.  Special ones--together."

Scully giggled for the umpteenth time.  "I-I think y-you're special.  I-I wa-want you, Cu-cutie!  You be m-my partner--st-stop.  D-don't r-run aw-away!  I-it's you wh-who li-lights my fire!"  She froze suddenly in her tracks and glared at him, with hands on hips.  Langly, backed up against the adjacent work table, and held his breath, seeing she was preparing to pounce.  He lowered his hands as a sign of truce.

"Wouldn't you feel better lying down?"

Her face jelled into the biggest smile.  "Ex-xactly what I-I had i-in mind, Cutie P-pie!"  She lurched for him and clutched his hand in a powerful seizure.  "L-let's go!"  She jerked him forcefully, as though she'd just roped and hogtied him, dragging him en route to the storage room.  "Right-ri-right now!"

"B-but I'm not that kind of guy, Scully!"

"We-we'll just se-see 'bout th-that, Bl-blondie!"

When the loud banging on the door came, Langly thanked every lucky star he'd ever wished on.  He snatched up his glasses and transformed into all no nonsense. "Okay--like, check it out--I gotta go answer that!  You behave.  I'll be right back."

"N-no!  Take m-me with y-you...pleeeeeease?"

Determindedly, but with a dignified way about it, he sat her down on the stool and pointed his finger at her.  "Don't move.  Be good now!  That's an order, Agent!"

Crankily, as she watched him go answer the door, Scully sat pouting, like the spoiled, bratty child she'd never had the luxury to have been. Under her breath she fitfully muttered, "I-I'm al-always good.  I ju-just wa-want to show y-you how much I ah-am, Cutie..."

Langly shot her a pleading look, and waved for her to be quiet.  Reaching the door, he peeked through the peephole, and when he saw who it was, he didn't know whether to be glad or sad, given the situation.  He unlocked the locks, unhooked the chains, and threw open the door.  Excitedly, he exclaimed, "Man, you're early, but no bigee.  You came here by car?"

The coal black-haired, swarthy South American visitor nodded, looking startled with this sort of welcome.  Although, THIS ONE was the kookiest member of the trio, he remembered from his last visit.

"Good!  You can do me a big favor, Silvio."  Langly pronounced the name, "Seelo."  "Drive my friend and me to the hospital.  I don't know where she threw the keys to her car last night, but, as you can hear, she needs to see a doctor like since yesterday!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End

NEXT