Why was she doing this?  She stood staring at the door to the warehouse, the Lone Gunmen’s headquarters.  How long had she been standing there?  She glanced at her Rolex, almost forty-five minutes and counting.  She didn’t want to go through with this, but she had no other choice.  This wasn’t like her.  Sighing, she rang the buzzer.

 Frohike answered.  It looked like he had been in the middle of taking a shower for he was dressed in a bathrobe and what was left of his hair was soaking.  He looked at Yves standing on the other side of the door in surprise and was suddenly aware of his state of attire and stepped back, self consciously tightening the robe’s sash.

 “What are YOU doing here?”  Frohike asked her warily, always suspicious when the tall, dark beauty was around.

 “I need you.”  Yves said simply only then realized that she had just left herself wide open with that one.  And, not to disappoint her, Frohike pounced on it.

 Frohike smiled and looked up at her coquettishly.  “I knew you couldn’t resist me forever.”

 Yves sighed, “No.  Not EVER in that way.  Can I come in or are you just going to leave a damsel in distress out in the rain?”
 
 Frohike snorted, but allowed her entry anyway.  “YOU in distress?  That’s a laugh!  What are you talking about?  And what do you need us for?”

 “Because, this is the only place where I can actually hide.”  Yves admitted.

 “Why would Wonder Woman need to hide?”  Frohike shut the door behind her as she sauntered in like she owned the place.

 “Oh, come on, Frohike.  I thought mystery and intrigue was your fuel.  You want me to reveal it all when it’s always better when left to the imagination?”  She countered him.

 He looked at her, frowning again, trying to not allow her sexual innuendo to overcome his good judgment.  “If you got some goons following you, and if you want to stay here, we have to be told what to expect.”

 Yves pierced his tough exterior with ‘that look’ she was so good at that always seemed to make him want to give in to her every wish despite everything else.  He tried to shake it off.  Damn, she was good.  Sighing, he chased after her, trying to remember if they had any high security data that Yves could get a hold of without trying.  He snorted.  Look who he was talking about?  She was the ultimate pirate.  But still, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, at least until one of the guys got back.  Great, so much for his shower, of course, he could always invite her to take one with him. Yeah, right.

 Yves inspected her new temporary home.  Yes, just as she remembered it, a complete manhole.

 “This place could use a woman’s touch.”  Yves said to Frohike.

 “And would you happen to know a woman we can call?”  Frohike replied sourly.

 Yves ignored him.  “And where will I sleep?  Under the computer?”

 “We have bedrooms upstairs.  You can have mine.”  Frohike said, ever the gentlemen.

 Yves rolled her expressive, dark eyes.  “I’d rather sleep with the computer.”

 “I can share with Langly or Byers.”

 “Well, that would explain any number of things.”  Yves said, eyes showing amusement.

 He chose to ignore her this time.  Luckily for Frohike, Langly was not long in coming home.  The blonde was none too pleased at seeing their newest guest.  He was even less pleased at finding out that she planned to use their headquarters as a hideout.

 “Hell no!”  Langly growled, “She’ll snoop around and find out all our best stuff!  Besides, she’ll be in the way.  This has always been a bachelor pad.”
 
 “Come on, Langly.  I know we haven’t exactly been on the same side all the time, but it’s a girl eat girl world out there.”  Yves replied, “But you can’t possibly hold that against me.  Hasn’t your mum told you to forgive and forget?”

 “Like forget any number of time’s you’ve landed us in jail for jumping in on our story?”  Langly said angrily.

 “Or those number of times I’ve bailed you out of trouble?”  Yves countered the raving Langly.

 “Fine!  She’s your responsibility then, Doohike!”  Langly spat and brushed past them.

 “Now just a minute!”  Frohike blustered but was cut off by Yves who left Frohike’s side to follow Langly.

 “Listen to me, Ringo.”  Yves grabbed Langly’s shoulder and Langly fought the urge to brush her off, but she WAS a woman and he was taught better than that so he turned to face her, scowling,  “I know I haven’t been exactly kosher with our previous dealings with each other, but surely you must understand the need for one to not allow just anyone access to your identity.”  That seemed to get his attention so she went on, “Some of the things I’ve done, I admit I’m not proud of, but they had to be done.  I know you must think I’m colder than frozen nitrogen, but it is the only way I know how to protect my interests.  If I start letting people in, others could get to them and use them to manipulate me.  I cannot afford that to happen.  I can’t tell you more than that, but that is how it is.”

 Langly was still frowning but he was listening.  “Whatever.  Do what you want.  Stay, just don’t get us shot.”  He stalked off towards his room upstairs, grumbling to himself.

 “I’ll show you where you can crash for the night.  Don’t worry, I have a lock on my door.”  Frohike sighed and led Yves upstairs after Langly who slammed the door to his room across from Frohike’s.  He waved her on to go in ahead of him once they were at the open door.  Yves looked about the space Frohike called home.  It was spare of any kind of decoration to suggest what his tastes might be.  Yves decided to be thankful for she had suspected his walls to be clad in posters of naked women.  She turned back to the door, surprised he hadn’t followed her in.  “Langly’ll be across from you and Byers is the next door down the hall, I’ll be there if you need anything.”  He made a move to leave.

 Hesitating a moment, something she usually never did and had done it twice in one hour, she gave into a small smile, “Thanks, Melvin.”

 He blinked then just nodded.  He left and hurried downstairs to secure everything then finished up his shower, on full blast cold and tried not to think about Yves sleeping in his bed.
 

 Yves awoke to the sound of an eerie shriek, like that of a cat getting it’s claws forcibly removed.  Then she heard what she assumed was singing afterwards.  Wondering what was going on, she glided downstairs to see.  There was Frohike and Langly at the television, watching the latest Mariah Carey “Glitter” video, ogling the self absorbed singer turned actress as she wiggled her boobs at the television, in Yves estimation, to distract the males from realizing she had no real talent in the first place.  It seemed to work because Frohike and Langly could have had World War III break out around them and be totally undisturbed from the complete rapture that was evident on their faces.

 “How can you possibly call what she does as music?”  Yves expressed her low opinion of the so-called artist.

 “Who said we liked her singing?”  Frohike replied without dislodging his eyes from the screen, “She is hot!”

 Yves rolled her eyes and decided to try to hunt down something that could resemble breakfast around the place.  It was going to be a long week, she sighed.

Next