TITLE: The Dreaded Phone Call
AUTHOR: Meghan O'Connor 
EMAIL: gyrfalcon@yahoo.com 
FEEDBACK: Please! The more I get, the more you get! 
DISCLAIMER: The LGM, Skinner, and anyone else you recognize are 
1013's. However, Anne Jacobs/Hanna Jean Frohike is all mine. 
SPOILERS: The X-Files, all up to the last season finale, and the LGM 
CATEGORY: Drama, LGM/Skinner/Other 
SYNOPSIS: Does Frohike want to see the daughter that was taken from 
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This series will be called the "Home at Last" fics. I 
am using the premise found in so many other fics, that Frohike was in 
Vietnam. I have a difficult time believing as they do, that someone 
of his height could get in the Marines, but what the heck, none of 
it's real anyway. I base such assumptions on the fact that I am 31, 
my dad was in Vietnam and never talked about it, Tom Braidwood was 
born the same year as my mother, so it's all feasible. (Although 
lusting after Frohike makes me ooky when I think about that, let's 
just skip that part.) List owners and Gossamer can archive, all 
others must ask. 

"Lone Gunmen Office, Jimmy speaking. How may I help you?"

"Jimmy, this is A. D. Skinner. Let me talk to Frohike, and turn the 
tape off."

"Sure, just a moment, Sir." His voice still carried to the phone 
although he had obviously held it away from his mouth. "Hey 
Frohike! Mr. Skinner wants to talk to you!" He came back from 
yelling. "He'll be here in just a moment, Sir. He was upstairs."

"Thank you, Jimmy. And you don't have to call me Sir. You don't 
work for me." He could sense Jimmy was about to apologize yet again 
as Frohike grabbed the phone from him.

"Thanks. Could you, um, go file those clippings from this morning? 
And remember, the word `the' doesn't count." Frohike spoke into the 
phone. "What's going on? Any more Russian spies you want help with?"

"No, Frohike, this one's personal, so turn the tape off."

"Uh, sure." Skinner didn't hear the telltale click.

"Damn it, Frohike, I mean it! It's about your family!"

The recorder shut off with an audible snap as Frohike's voice 
lowered. "What do you mean, it's about my family? I don't have a 
family." He seemed nervous.

"You're Melvin Frohike from Baltimore by way of Pontiac, formerly 
married to Sheila Jacobs after coming back from Nam?" Frohike winced 
at the personal information going out over the air.

"Yeah, yeah, that's me, don't be broadcasting it over the whole FBI 
network, for Chrissakes." He could just picture Skinner taking off 
his glasses in frustration.

"It's a secure line, Frohike. And I met your daughter today."

"What?" His vision seemed to narrow. This world was just a little 
too small after all. "Who?"

Skinner sighed. "I was at the Wall. She was there, reading the 
names. She does that every 27th of the month." Frohike closed his 
eyes. "She smiles when she's done reading, so I had to ask her why. 
She said she was glad her father wasn't up there, and she was 
thanking them all because she didn't know which one saved you. She 
said she had been looking for her father since she was 18, and I 
offered to help. That was before I heard your name. She wants to 
know you're ok."

He tried desperately to control his breathing. Fortunately, none of 
the other guys were in the room to see how pale he'd 
become. "Does . . . Does she want to see me?"

"She said she'd understand if you didn't want to see her."

"No! I mean, I do! Oh man, it's been so long, though . . ."

"She wouldn't care what you do, as long as you're alive." The 
compassion suddenly shone in his voice. "Frohike, she misses her 
father. She's a beautiful woman, obviously very smart, very 
caring . . ."

"Would you set it up? And I don't want the guys to know just yet. 
They don't really know anything about before I met them. I just 
wanna see her first."

"Yeah. I'll give her a call, then call you back." He 
paused. "Semper Fi, Frohike."

"Thanks, man. Semper Fi."

"Rachel? This is A. D. Skinner. Do you have a moment?"

"Oh, Walter, yes. Just a moment." He heard her voice being muffled, 
as if she put a hand over the phone to talk to someone. "Give me a 
moment, Jen. I need to take this." She came back clearer. "Did you 
find anything?"

"Yes. I realized later that one of my agents knows him personally." 
He heard her gasp. "It's a small world, Anne. He wants to see you 
if you're up to that." He listened for a few silent 
moments. "Anne? Are you alright?"

"Yes! Oh goodness, yes! I'm just so excited. Trying not to 
hyperventilate, you know. It's been so long . . ."

Skinner chuckled. "That's what he said. Where and when?"

The smile was evident even if he couldn't see her face. "Please, let 
him choose a convenient time and a place he feels comfortable in. 
Then just let me know and I'll be there. If I don't get an ulcer 
from anticipation first." She giggled a little, making him smile.

"OK, I'll let you know."