neXt Files Chapter Two: Breakfast at Langly's

by Patti and Cathy

Title: neXt Files Chapter Two: Breakfast at Langly's
Author: Patti and Cathy
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Date Archived: 02/21/02
Category: Unclassified
Pairing (Primary): Mulder/Skinner
Pairing(s) (Secondary):
Crossover Fandom (if any):
Crossover Info (if any):
Other Pairing Info:
Rating: G
Permission to Archive: Sure, just keep our name and email on it, thanks.
Series or Sequel/Prequel: neXt Files
Notes: Be warned, no spanking in this chapter for those on Naughty Mulder, although it is discussed a bit, but there will be plenty in future chapters. This chapter is just getting things set up for the series. Thanks for your patience.
Disclaimer: Mulder, Scully and Skinner are no longer associated with the X-Files or FBI. The Lone Gunmen have assisted in creating this situation. As a result, the group of tattered vagabonds seek a new home and profession, hence the title of our series: neXt Files.
Summary: All things X-Files and/or Lone Gunmen belong to CC, 1013 and 20th Century Fox. We are only borrowing them, without consent or endorsement. No profit or gain will be made for this small, defiant act of futility.

Breakfast at Langly's

Frohike pulls the blankets tighter around his chin, and huddles deeper into bed. Listening to Walter and Mulder isn't nearly as amusing as he thought it would be. His mind keeps probing his own part in the disaster, like his tongue would seek out a sore tooth. Shuddering, Fro closes his eyes, trying to tune out the sounds from the other room and force sleep.

Byers sits slumped over his small desk, a daily journal open in front of him. Staring at the blank page, he takes pen in hand: Mulder has paid the price for his folly tonight. I cannot state this as fact, but I do believe Walter Skinner intentionally chose to punish Mulder in our home. Each of us is responsible in part, yet Mulder alone has made his act of contrition and paid penance. Closing the book, Byers slams the cover much harder than necessary and tosses the pen into a drawer.

Langly wraps his arms around his computer monitor, trying to block out the noise coming from the other room. Every spank landing on Mulder's backside feels as if it is landing on Langly's own, as his guilty conscious runs rampant. He flinches at each blow, pressing his tear-stained face against the monitor. Patting the top of the computer to comfort himself, he talks to what most of the time takes the form of his best friend. "It's okay, Bessie. Mulder will be okay." Langly moves his right hand to the mouse, patting it nervously, as he drops his head to the computer desk and falls into an uneasy sleep.

Jimmy twists and turns in the bathtub, bumping the back of his head numerous times. He sighs and wishes he'd gone ahead and stayed in Frohike's room after all. The smell would be nauseating but at least he wouldn't be here all alone, listening while Mr. Skinner spanks Mulder. Wriggling again, to ease the cramp in his neck, Jimmy wonders if it's too late to creep into Fro's room and stretch out along the foot of the little man's bed.

Dana groans and flips over in the bed, pulling the pillow over her head. Why on earth does Mulder have to get himself in such hot water all the time and then have to put me through having to listen to the outcome? Scully pulls the pillow tighter over her head and tries not to listen, the sudden image of Jimmy's denim-covered backside popping into her head. Dana grins under the pillow and imagines herself with Jimmy's bare bottom over her legs and giving him a tentative slap or two. Dana smiles and runs one hand over her suddenly hard nipple as she drifts off to sleep.

Jimmy climbs stiffly from the bathtub, stretching and popping his back and neck. Once the waves of dizziness pass, he washes his face and brushes his teeth. Nodding to himself, he creeps back into his bedroom, smiling at Dana's sleeping form. Grabbing his duffle, Jimmy leaves the bunker under cover of darkness, and climbs into his car. The closer he gets to the airport, the more unsure he becomes and considers turning around to go home. He decides that someone has to do something to fix this situation, so it might as well be him.

Langly awakens stiffened and weary, his back an aching mass having slept bent over the computer desk all night. He straightens and pops the vertebra, emitting an orgasmic groan as the tension is released from his back. He wipes at his bleary eyes and pats the hood of his computer good morning before shuffling slowly out of the room, his grumbling stomach directing his actions.

He scratches his hip through his sweatpants as he pops open the refrigerator door and peruses the contents. Eggs. Bacon. OJ. Langly begins to pull out all his favorite comfort foods. Bustling around the kitchen whipping out pans and bowls, starting bacon and eggs frying and pulling out ingredients to make pancakes.

Byers wakes slowly, startling at the noise. At first he thinks that Mulder and Skinner have started round two, then realizes the sounds are emanating from the kitchen. He scratches his hair and beard, shuffling out to see who is up at this ungodly hour. Smiling as he spies Ringo wrestling with pancake batter, John speaks softly, "Want some help?" He moves to put on a pot of coffee and chuckles, "You look sexy as hell in that apron, Ringo but if I were you, I'd wipe the flour off my face. It's just a little too much."

Langly snaps crankily. "Shut up, Byers." Langly wipes dramatically at the flour on his face as he moves to flip the bacon and slide the eggs onto a plate. "If you knew what I went through last night, you wouldn't be hassling me, man."

John frowns and places a hand on Langly's shoulder, "I know the night you went through, Ringo. I was here, too. It wasn't any quieter in my bedroom." He shakes himself, "Let's cook. We'll worry about Mulder, when we see him." He turns the bacon again, and lowers the flame, "Have you heard any one else stirring, yet?"

Langly sniffs and shakes his head. "No. Just you and me." Langly starts pouring the pancake batter into a fresh pan. "Think he's okay? Sounded pretty rough last night, huh?"

Byers nods, "Yeah, it did." He moves to set the table with mismatched china and silver, "Do we have enough glasses for everyone?" He sighs, "I think he's gonna be fine. Mulder will be embarrassed, so we can't make a big deal over him. Understand?"

Frohike enters the kitchen, eyes still hooded from sleep, "What's going on?" He drops into a chair and rests his forehead on the table, "Plates? Silverware? What is going on?"

Langly nods wordlessly at Byers, wondering how on earth he is going to be able to look Mulder in the eye again. He slides eggs, bacon and pancakes onto another plate and plops it down in front of Frohike. "Just breakfast, Fro. Ever heard of it before?"

Frohike stares at the food, "It's smoking! What? It's hot!" He shovels a bite of eggs into his mouth, staring suspiciously at Langly, "Breakfast? I don't think I have heard the word before." He grins and wags his eyebrows, "But I love trying new things." He chews silently for a moment, and then sips from his coffee. "Any one seen Mulder, yet? It sounded like World War Three, last night."

Langly mumbles. "Yeah, and you won't hear it again if you don't shut up." Langly moves back to the stove silently and stares down at his fresh batch of pancakes, keeping an eye on them so they don't burn as he adds more bacon to the frying pan. "Nope, haven't seen him."

Byers fills a plate and moves to the table, taking the seat next to Frohike, "I suppose coming out to face us, is the last thing Mulder wants to do, this morning." He takes a bite of eggs, "They are great, Ringo. I like the onions and peppers. Thanks." He turns back to Frohike, "Ringo and I were just talking about it. We can't make a big deal over Mulder or he will be more embarrassed. We should probably behave as if it is business as usual, for the time being."

Melvin nods, "You're right as usual, John." He slurps from his coffee cup again, "But, if Mulder doesn't come out soon, there isn't going to be any food left. I'm starving."

Mulder brushes into the kitchen, having heard plenty of the conversation from just outside the door. He heads directly to the coffee pot and pours himself one. Using every bit of effort he possesses, he doesn't wince when he leans against the counter and snatches a piece of bacon off of Frohike's plate. "Morning boys. What was that about business as usual, John?"

Byers blushes to the roots of his hair and shrugs, "Nothing, Mulder. We were just saying.." He wipes his mouth primly with a paper napkin, stalling for time, "Well, I'm sure you heard what we were just saying. We don't want to embarrass you, that's all." He busies himself eating.

Frohike glances up from his plate, and nods, "Mulder, it's no use pretending like we don't know what happened. We weren't going to say anything about it. Except, that we're sorry. That's all. Now, get some food and start eating."

Mulder continues leaning against the counter, an air of surliness about him that normally exudes from Skinner. "Mmm hmm. You're sorry. Why is it that no one was coming to my rescue while I took the heat for everyone?"

Walter leaves his post in the hallway, "Morning, gentlemen." He brushes past Mulder to pour a cup of coffee. He turns to peruse the goodies on the stove, "Mind if I fix myself a plate?"

Mulder's attitude instantly drops into his shoes as he edges along the counter out of the way, willing everyone to keep their mouths shut about his behavior.

Langly grins at Walter, as he grabs another plate and flips a stack of pancakes onto it for him. "All set, Sir. Everything's hot and ready." Langly grins at Mulder. "Mulder here was just telling us about last night, weren't you, Mulder?"

Mulder glares at Langly and hisses at him under his breath. "Shut... up... Langly."

Frohike cannot prevent a chuckle, "Yeah. Mulder was telling us how it was a good idea that we didn't try to mount a rescue attempt. Isn't that right, Mulder?"

Mulder suddenly envisions himself giving Frohike a good sharp kick under the table, as he speaks through gritted teeth. "Yeah, that's sure right, Fro."

Byers sniggers and sips his coffee, "I think I'll go see if Agent Scully would like to join us. Maybe she will be in a better mood, now that she's had a good night's sleep." He exits stage left, laughter trailing behind him.

Walter stuffs his mouth full of food, and tries not to choke on his own laughter, "Give it a rest, Fox." He pulls a chair out from beneath the table, "Take a load off, Mulder. This chair has a cushion, so you'll be fine."

Frohike laughs and slaps Mulder's shoulder, "Come on, Mulder. Sit down and eat while it's hot."

Mulder glares at everyone in the room in turn, before gingerly taking a seat on the offered chair. He glumly pushes the food around on the plate Langly sets in front of him.

Walter sits down beside Mulder glancing at his lover's plate, "There is a time limit on how long you can leave food on your plate before someone else gets to eat it, Fox." He smiles and takes another bite from his own breakfast, "Better start eating, soon."

Mulder glares at Walter out of the corner of his eye and takes a half-hearted bite of egg, chewing grumpily. "There. Happy?"

Walter smiles again, "Yes, Fox. Thank you very much." He tries again, "Now I won't have to give you the starving children in Africa speech." He sips his coffee and nudges Mulder's shoulder with his own, "Smile for pete's sake, Mulder. Please?"

Melvin buries his face in his plate, uninterested in contributing to this conversation. He elbows Langly, "We have some work to do, Ringo. We should probably eat up and get back to the salt mines, eh?"

Langly grins and leans against the counter, not about to budge. "Nope, I don't have a thing to do today actually. I could stand here all day."

Byers knocks softly on Jimmy's bedroom door, "Agent Scully? It's John Byers. Langly has fixed a nice breakfast, if you're hungry. The food is still hot, but it won't last much longer."

Dana Scully pushes herself out of the delicious dream she was having, savoring it a moment longer as John's words sink into her brain. "Mmm? Breakfast? Okay, John. I'll be there in a few minutes."

John nods as if Scully can see him through the closed door and smiles. "Okay. I'll make sure there is some food left for you."

Scully sits up in bed and runs her hands through her hair, blinking around at the unfamiliar room, gazing at each of Jimmy's possessions in turn. "Thanks, John."

Byers enters the kitchen breathing a sigh of relief. No one looks angry except Mulder, so things must be going okay. He pours fresh coffee and leans against the counter, "What are your plans, Mulder? Do you have any at this point?"

Mulder spears some more egg and pushes it around his plate, looking about as pitiful as he can. "Nope. Don't really have any. Guess I don't have a job to go to." Mulder glances up at Langly. "You could teach me how to play Tomb Raider."

Byers rolls his eyes, "Not likely, Mulder. Ringo wastes enough of our time gaming. We can't support two deadbeats." He grins and snags a slice of bacon, "Scully's awake. She should be here in another few minutes. Make sure there is something left for her to eat."

Dana climbs out of Jimmy's bed and heads for a quick shower, lugging her suitcase onto his bed and dressing quickly, trying to make it to the kitchen before all the food is gone. She dresses as fast as she can, opting for comfort today while they regroup and figure things out. She skids into the kitchen, scanning it quickly, her eyes glancing over the three Stooges and Walter and Mulder. "Where's Jimmy?"

All eyes turn to the tousled redhead framed by the kitchen door. Walter glances around, as if he's missed someone. "Hell if I know." He looks at Mulder, "Have you seen him, Fox?"

Fro shrugs, "He's in and out all the time, Scully. Don't worry your pretty't worry about Jimmy. He'll turn up just like a bad penny."

Mulder shakes his head, his cheeks still a becoming shade of pink as he mumbles. "I've been sort of busy."

Byers turns to fill a plate with the remaining food from the stove, "Here, Miss Scully. Have a seat, and eat something. Jimmy will be around soon enough."

Dana thanks Byers for the food and sits down, blushing. "I was just wondering is all. I, uh, I had something to discuss with him." Dana's cheeks blush even brighter as she begins forking the food into her mouth quickly to avoid saying anything more.

Frohike lifts his head, "There's the phone. Wonder who would be calling us this time of morning?" He climbs from his chair, tossing his napkin on the table, to rush from the room.

Dana's eyes follow Frohike as he darts out of the room after the phone. She silently chews, her ears perked up for any bits of conversation she can catch in the next room.

Walter lifts his head, hearing a muffled exclamation and curse from the other room, "Well, whoever it is, Frohike doesn't seem to be very happy to hear from them."

Byers smirks as he drains the last of the coffee from the pot, "Probably some telemarketer. He or she will rue the day they bothered Melvin Frohike so early in the morning."

Mulder grins and becomes more enthused about eating his breakfast now that someone else sounds as miserable as he feels. He eats his pancakes with more gusto as Melvin comes back into the room.

Frohike steps into the kitchen, pale and somewhat shaken. He stares at the expectant faces, and presses his back to the wall. "You are not going to fu...believe this. You're just not gonna believe it!" He wipes his brow, looking at the floor to continue, "That was Jimmy on the telephone. He's in..." Melvin's voice trails off.

Dana stands up quickly, pushing her chair back from the table, her voice steely. "He's where, Melvin?"

Walter slides back from the table, crossing his arms over his chest, "Yes, Frohike. Tell us where Jimmy is. Now."

Frohike takes a ragged breath and forces himself to speak. "Jimmy's in New Mexico. Roswell, to be precise." He whips off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He finishes in a sudden burst of energy, "He's bought a place out there. He said we're gonna all move out west together and start over. He thought a detective agency would be the perfect set up." He backs out into the hallway, ready to run at the first sight of any tableware thrown in his direction.

End Chapter Two

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