The Lost Hamburger
by Len

Spoilers: erm…? No idea—nothing, everything…
Teaser: The boys and Yves all end up in the same NM town, looking 
for treasure…Ha. I bet you thought with that title, it was going to 
be a comedy, huh? Just wait…
Rating: PG at worst, I think
Disclaimer: they are so not mine. If they were mine, I think I 
would have fought a little harder to keep them…
Note: This is my first TGM fanfic, so please read and review. It's 
not terrific, but I'm trying to find my Yves Groove, and it's taking 
some time…(-:

~*~ Part One ~*~

I try to tell myself that there is a perfectly rational 
explanation for what I'm doing. Honestly, there is. I'm following 
the money—something I have always done and am quite good at. It is 
only a coincidence that my arrival in the hamlet of Pinon Flats, New 
Mexico coincides with that of the three stooges. 

What's that? Oh, right. Four stooges. 

I just wish I could have followed the money to someplace that 
wasn't so bloody hot. I think I am getting sunburn.

Although I hate to beat a dead horse, I suppose I should give you 
some clue as to why I am here. It wasn't _precisely_ the money which 
I am following. It is the Stooges. A smart girl knows when to hunt, 
and when to scavenge. I hadn't known them long before I realized 
that wherever the so-called Lone Gunmen were, a reward was sure to 

Just so we're utterly clear on that particular point. I am here 
on business. And just because I am not completely certain what that 
business is, doesn't mean I'm following the boys around like a 

Oh, God. That is an image I truly wish I could erase from my 
brain. I tap my foot and let my eyes wander down the street.

There is one single item of public technology in Pinon Flats, and 
that is the large electronic billboard on which they post the 
temperature and the fire danger. Both are so incredibly high at the 
moment I'm wondering why this whole godforsaken hole hasn't 
spontaneously combusted. Now there's a case for the boys to look 

A car pulls up across from where I'm sitting. I look at my 
watch. Right on time. Although, calling it a car may actually be a 
bit too charitable. It looks like a junkyard on four wheels. After 
the spluttering engine dies, the sounds of an argument can be heard.

"I can't believe you forgot it!" one of them is saying. The 
blonde one. Langley. "It's the reason we came here in the first 

Frohike jumps out the passenger side "Well, we wouldn't have 
forgotten it if you had just left it on my case like you were 
supposed to—"

"Why should I have to pack your junk?"

"Guys—I think I kind of stuck it out of the way when I was loading 
the van. I guess I forgot about it…" Jimmy trails off. I think he's 
bracing himself for the inevitable berating from his two companions 
when Byers falls out of the car, dressed in a shocking pair of short 
and a T-shirt. His skin is very nearly glowing green.

"Man," Langley says, "You're not looking so hot." Byers groans 
and glares at him, then staggers over to the sidewalk and collapses. 

Jimmy shuts the driver's side door, looking concerned. "Hey, you 
want something to drink?" The other man just shakes his head.

Across the street, I'm beginning to wish that I hadn't worn a 
black top. Yes, it probably is the best color for my day-to-day 
business, but not here in the fifth circle of hell.

I'm also amused by the proceedings taking place across from me. 
As usual, Langley and Frohike were going at it like a couple of 
children, while Byers watched on, and Jimmy did something useful—
started unloading the scrap heap.

While I'm watching all of this with a faint smile, a man with a 
beer gut and a John Deer cap walks past me and whistles. "Hey, hot 

I glare at him. Terrific. Just what I need—to become the main 
attraction at the Pinon Ridge Pub, or whatever the local watering 
hole was called. That's what they call them out here, right? 
Watering holes? It certainly brings to mind a dusty, uncivilized 

"Isn't this great?" Jimmy is saying, a rapturous smile on his 
face. He spins around in a circle, taking in the view. Or lack 
thereof, in my opinion. "It's like a western. I wonder if we'll get 
to meet any cowboys?"

"I bet this town is full of truckers," Frohike mutters. Jimmy 
continues to look around, his gaze getting closer and closer, until 
it falls on…me. He frowns. Oh dear. I duck behind the corner of 
the post office and out of sight.

"Hey, Jimmy. Jimmy? Hey, hello, earth to Goliath…" Langley says.

"Sorry? What? I was just…" he trails off. I almost peek around 
the corner to see if he's going to give me up, but think the better 
of it.

Of course he doesn't. He never does. I wonder if this is because 
he doubts himself or just doesn't think the guys need to know. 
Whatever the reason, he's bought me a little time to find out what 
they're up to. And make sure that they aren't going to get 
themselves killed in the process.

<<wincing>> So what'd you think? Should I continue?