TITLE: Three Grand Slams, please.
AUTHOR: Krista Wagner
FEEDBACK: Please! But this is my first published fanfic, so be gentle!
DISCLAIMER: Byers, Langly, and Frohike are 1013ís. But the waitress is MINE! ;)
SPOILERS: The Lone Gunmenís Pilot episode
SYNOPSIS: The Gunmen think out their dayís plan over Grand Slams.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: You really have to have seen the Pilot episode to get this fic. The first part is actually from the episode, and then I take it from there. Letís just say, this is a Ďdeletedí scene. Also, thanks to http://www.geocities.com/thelonegunmen030401/ep0.html for the transcript of the show.
5: 48 A.M.
Whataya say we call it a night, Byers?
Ah, it's too late for that; sun just came up. Come on, Byers; I'll buy you a Grand Slam.
It just doesn't make sense.
What doesn't make sense?
The blood in my father's house.
Buddy, we've been through this. They shot him.
Why? Why go to the trouble of, faking a car accident so perfectly, so convincingly, when you're starting with a body that's, got a bullethole in it.
Maybe dad put up a fight.
Maybe it wasn't his blood.
6: 37 A.M.
The three Gunmen are sitting at a booth in a Dennyís restaurant. Frohike is sitting on the audiences left, in the middle of the booth seat. Byers and Langly sit together on the opposite side, Langly farthest in, Byers on the outside. Each man has a ĎGrand Slamí they are eating at.† All except Langly. Langly sits, fork in hand, staring at his full plate. He appears dazed, his eyelids heavy.
So, tell me, Byers. If it wasnít your old manís blood, then whose was it?
I donít know. Maybe itís the man that came to kill him. Like what Langly said, he put up a fight.
But there was no sign of a struggle.
There doesnít have to be. Just like the blood. All the evidence was cleaned up. The carpet was shampooed and anything else out of place may have been put back into place. (he takes a bite of his hot cakes)
Langlyís head begins to bob. He catches himself and sits up straight, eyes wide. He
immediately slouches back down, eyes almost closed. He other men donít seem to notice.
(takes a bite of sausage and swallows)
We could have the blood sampled.
(nodding his head)
After we finish here, we can go back to the house and get a sample. If we give it to Mulder, he can get the results back quicker than if we sent it in ourselves.
What do we do if it isnít his blood?
We assume he isnít dead. Mr. Helm can help us find him.
If he wants to be found.
Byers eyes flicker, and he works at cutting up his hot cakes. Frohike looks at him, regretting what he just said and looks back down to his plate. Short silence. Langly has been drifting in and out of sleep, his eyes close and open, his head bobs back and forth throughout the conversation. Finally, during this silence, he gives up trying to stay awake. His head falls forward, hitting the plate loudly. Byers and Frohike glance over at him, startled by the noise.† Langlyís hair has fallen over his face, hiding it, but it is obvious he fell asleep right in his food.† The men look away, paying no heed to Langly. Another pause. Byers looks up at Frohike suddenly, his eyes wide.
What is it?
Iíve got it! His would-be assassin was sent to make his death look like an accident. The carpet in the living room had been freshly shampooed. The assassin slipped on the carpet, just like you did, and his gun went off, killing him. Dad realized he was in danger. I imagine his first impulse was to run. He somehow must have found the remote control that the assassin had attached to his car. Someone was going to great lengths to fake his death in a car accident. So he came up with his own plan. The body found in the car was the assassins, not Dadís. Dad must have put him in the car and sent it towards the metal pylon. That way they wouldnít be able to positively identify the body.
We have to find out what Scenario 12D is.
A waitress walks onto screen, notepad in hand. She is a young girl, early 20ís, with blond hair tied back into a ponytail. She wears a maroon polo shirt, with a Dennyís logo on the right shoulder, and black dress pants. She also has a white apron tied around her waist.
(tears off check and lays it down on table)
Here is your check, gentlemen.
(smiling at waitress)
Why, thank you, pretty lady.
The waitress does not notice Frohikeís flirting. She is too busy staring at Langly, her eyes wide with concern.
Is your friend ok?
Oh, yeah, heís fine.
(shakes Langlyís shoulder)
Langly? Langly, wake up.
(looks back to waitress)
Do you think we could have a large coffee to go, please?
No problem. Iíll be right back.
After she exits screen, Frohike reaches over the table and slaps Langly upside the head.†
Wake up, you idiot.
Langly jumps and raises his head. He has a couple pieces of scramble eggs stuck to his forehead. He looks around confused. Frohike shakes his head, takes the check and digs around in his back pocket for his wallet. He pulls out a black leather one, of course, and take money from it. The waitress enters again, a large coffee in her hand. She sets it on the table.
There ya go.
How much for the extra coffee?
Donít worry about it, itís on me.
She glances at Langly, egg still on his forehead, and smiles, trying not to laugh. Frohike notices this.
(hands her the money)
The waitress smiles again and walks off screen. Langly, still looking around, frowns when a piece of egg falls off his head and onto his plate. He reaches a hand up and wipes off the egg, acting confused on how it got there. Byers stands.
There is work to be done, gentlemen.
Frohike crawls from the booth. Byers walks off screen. Langly topples out off his spot.† Frohike takes the coffee from the table and pushes it into his hands.
Langly stumbles off screen, taking a drink of coffee.
(to himself, as he walks off-screen)
(END - To find out what happens, watch the rest of the Pilot episode!)