Title: Jimmy's Point of View 1/3
Author: Jackie
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Not much, but if you haven't read my first two (Songbird
and Colbi), you'll need to, or nothing will make sense.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, would like to. Danny Cunningham is my
character. Please don't use her unless you ask me first, then I'll
consider it.
Author's Note: Delving into Jimmy's mind was . . . interesting.
That's all I'll say.
8:30 AM
Life is funny. People say they're content with their lives as they
are, but are they really? I mean they were given the choice would
they keep the same job they had, the same home, or the same friends?
Or would they chuck all of it out the window and go after something
else? Well, I don't know about them, but as for me, I wouldn't give
up anything in my life right now. I am truly content with where I am.
Well, actually, at the moment, I'm not, but that's because I'm
sitting on a bench in a jail cell with Byers, Frohike, and Langly.
Man, I love those guys.
By the way, my name's Bond. Jimmy Bond. Actually, it's James Bond.
A lot of people wonder why my parents would call me that, but I find
the name cool. I mean, how many people are named after one of the
greatest television spies in the world? And to top if off, I am
actually following in his footsteps. Well, sort of. Actually, the
four of us are following in his footsteps. You see, I work with the
guys, otherwise known as The Lone Gunmen. We all live in Takoma Park,
Maryland. Now, before I tell you what it is we do exactly and how we
wound up in jail, I better tell you a little about the guys, otherwise
things may get a little confusing.
Byers' real name is Jonathan Fitzgerald Byers. He was born on the
same day John F. Kennedy was assassinated. Byers told me one time
that his name was going to be Bertram if the President had lived, like
his father's had been. Man, that would have sucked. I mean, don't
get me wrong or anything, and I'm not disrespecting his father, but
Bertram Byers? Yuck. Byers used to work for the FCC until he met up
with Frohike and Langly in 1989, and it shows, because he's always
wearing suits. Oh, and don't tell this to anyone, but I think Byers
is a perfectionist at times. I mean, I can understand his reasoning
behind getting things perfect, but I still can't see why he was so
upset about me tearing up that check from Senator Jefferson's campaign
people. I mean, they were trying to bribe me. I, Jimmy Bond, don't
take bribes from anyone, and I let them know that. Fortunately, we
were able to get the entire mess cleared up without damaging the
Senator's campaign (although he didn't win the election, but that's
another story).
Frohike's first name is Melvin, which I can see why he would just want
to be called Frohike. I don't know too much on Frohike, and he's not
one to open up, but he is one hell of a surveillance expert. He
appears to be a mean person, but he's really a softie once you get to
know him. Frohike's style on clothes is . . . well, anything goes.
He wears everything from combat boots to fingerless gloves. Oh, well.
Then there's Ringo Langly. He's really good with computers and loves
to hack into things, plus he likes rock and roll, since he constantly
wears Ramones and other similar T-shirts. He has a bit of a temper,
which he often directs towards me for one reason or another, but he's
basically a good guy. He doesn't have a very strong stomach, and has
an aversion to cows. I think because he was raised around them,
though I don't see how that would cause someone to hate cows. I think
it was after that one time where he had to stick his hand up J.T.'s
butt, and, well, I don't blame him.
Now, the four of us work together to uncover plots we feel the public
should be aware about. Governmental plots, political scandals,
corporation stuff, you name it. Afterwards, we publish our stories in
a newspaper called 'The Lone Gunman', then we ship them out to our
subscribers. In fact, it was working on a story that wound us up in
jail. We had been working to expose the truth behind some software a
local computer company was planning on using to tap into people's
computers, basically invade their privacy. Everything was running
smoothly until the equipment Frohike was using to bypass the security
went on the fritz. We were spotted and arrested, and that's how we
ended up here. In fact, we were working on ten hours, and it was
starting to get to the guys.
"Langly, I swear if you don't move over, I'll wring you up by those
blonde locks of your," Frohike said. He and Langly were scrunched
onto another bench. Byers was seated by himself on the third bench,
looking rather upset.
"Get bent, Doo-hike," Langly muttered.
"I have some room over here," I offered, scooting over on the bench.
"I'll stay here, thanks," Frohike replied. We all looked up as the
catwalk door leading to the holding area was opened by one of the
officers and Danny walked in.
Oh, yeah. I forgot about her. Yeah, Danny's a girl. Her real name
is Danielle Cunningham. She came to us for help a few months ago when
her father was killed. As it turned out, her father was a contact the
guys use in some of their stories. He was killed and Danny knew that
it wasn't accidental. Turned out that her father's best friend had
him killed over some kind of virus. That's gotta suck, but Danny
seems to have coped well. She was going to leave after finding out
what had happened, but we all wanted her to stay, because she was a
big help, so she did. She used to work at High-Tech, a computer
business in Mount Savage, making her computer skills nearly as good as
Langly's (she found out where we lived by hacking into Langly's
system). There is a rivalry between those two about who's better, but
it's a friendly rivalry.
Also . . . well, the guys know this already; Danny doesn't (so don't
tell her, okay?), but I kind of like her. I mean she's really fun to
be around. She's very dedicated to our cause, she knows a lot about
computers, can speak three languages, and she's very tough. I can
tell you that last part from first-hand experience, because she jumped
me, tied me up, and held me hostage when we first met because she
thought I was a bad guy. Most guys would still carry a grudge about
that, but I understand why she did it. Also, she's not bad looking,
either. She has short red-hair (it used to be long and dark brown,
but she changed it shortly before joining the team), green eyes, and
dresses normally. Today, however, she was wearing a pair of black
slacks, a black blouse, and carrying a purse.
"Are you guys okay?" she asked as she came over. Everyone stood up
and walked over.
"Yeah, we're peachy," Langly replied. "You want to get us out of here
already?"
"Well, it's nice to know that your attitude hasn't been affected,"
Danny replied wryly. "I've already posted your bail, so let's get out
of here." The officer opened our cell door, and we followed Danny
down the hall. As we passed the sergeant's desk in the front, one of
the officers looked over.
"Hey, Doc, next time you might want to keep your patients under lock
and key," he said.
"Doc?" Byers asked in a hushed voice as we walked out and over to the
VW van that was parked alongside the curb.
"Yeah, Doc," Danny replied as we got in. Danny took the driver's
seat. "You want to know what was waiting for me when I got home at
eight o'clock?" Danny had been out doing some personal errands when
we left to do our little mission. "A message on the answering machine
from you, Byers, saying you had all been arrested for breaking and
entering the research facility at Peterson Technology Corporation."
"So, why didn't you bail us out then?" Frohike asked.
"Because Peterson Technology was going to press charges," Danny
replied. "I spent all of last night and early this morning forging
documents, passing you guys off as mental patients - which wasn't that
hard - and me as your psychologist. Thankfully, I was able to get
everything worked out without charges being filed, and get the van out
of impound. Also, I have an official statement from Mr. Mark
Peterson, the CEO. He says, 'if I ever see any of those four near my
company ever again, I'll take my shotgun and give them a butt full of
buckshot. And I'll also get your license to practice psychological
medicine revoked.'" She drove off. "So, do we have anything to show
for it?"
"Nothing," Byers replied. "Anything we were able to get from the
research facility was given right back to Peterson Technology."
"So, we don't have a story," Frohike said.
"Prefect," Danny said.
I decided a change of subject was in order. "So, Danny, what did you
do last night?"
"Nothing much," Danny replied quickly. "Just took care of some stuff
that needed to be take care of."
"Like what" I asked.
"Nothing that concerns you, okay?" Danny said. "It's just some
business that I needed to attend to."
I was confused, but before I could ask anything else, Frohike, who was
sitting in the front between Danny and Langly, reached around the
backseat and smacked me in the head. "Ow!" I said, rubbing my head.
"What was that for?"
"She just said it was none of your concern," Frohike replied. "Now,
back off."
"Thank you, Frohike," Danny replied. She turned to van onto our
street. After pulling up to the warehouse, we all got out and went
down the stairs to the front door. Danny let us in and shut the door
behind us.
"Man, I'm starving," Langly said as he walked toward the kitchen.
"I can make omelets," Frohike replied.
"I can help," I offered, following him.
"No," everyone said loudly.
"Aw, why not?" I asked.
"You're still banned from cooking, remember?" Frohike asked.
"You're not still mad about that, are you?" I asked. About two weeks
ago, I was making Danny an omelet to cheer her up (we were looking
after a dog named Colbi, who turned out to be a bionic dog, but he was
shot and killed), but I tripped and spilled the raw eggs all over her.
I spent almost an hour cleaning up everything. And it was an
accident
"Jimmy," Byers said. He sighed, rubbing his head.
"Do you have a headache, Byers?" I asked.
"I'm getting there," Byers replied. He seemed to be getting headaches
a lot lately.
"Jimmy, why don't you, I don't know, take a shower or something,
okay?" Danny suggested. "In fact, why don't all of you get cleaned
up? You all stink."
"And you smell like a bed of roses?" Langly asked.
"Actually, I do," Danny smiled. "I showered before I went to see
Peterson a few hours ago." She did smell nice, like fruit or
something. "So, go get cleaned up, and by that time, I'll have some
freshly-made omelets waiting for you guys, okay?"
Oh, yeah, another thing about Danny is that she likes to cook. So
does Frohike. I don't know where Frohike learned to cook, but Danny
spent a few years over in France and Italy and learned there. Frohike
says it's nice having another cook around the place to help out, but I
have to say that I don't think Danny went to a good French cooking
school. I mean, I asked her if they taught her how to make French
Fries, you know being in France and all, but she just rolled her eyes
and said no, they didn't. I mean, what kind of French cooking school
doesn't teach you how to make French Fries?
Anyway, I went upstairs to my room, quickly got a change of clothes,
and hurried to the bathroom. Sharing a bathroom with the guys kind of
reminds me of my college days. The faster you are, the more likely
you are to get hot water. So far, I've managed to get a few showers
that have actually been comfortable, but I don't complain. It's
enough just to be here.
By the time I got downstairs everyone else was already eating. Danny
was finishing up the last omelet and she handed it to me on a plate,
along with a glass of orange juice. I sat down and started eating
then noticed that Danny was cleaning up. "Hey, you going to eat?" I
asked.
"I already ate this morning," Danny replied as she wiped down counters
and put dishes in the washing machine.
"When?" Byers asked.
"Well, I grabbed some doughnuts from the Shipley's on my way to get
you guys, and I ate them outside the jail."
"You ate while we were rotting inside?" Langly asked.
Danny turned around, frowning. "Hey, I had to make some cancellations
because I was trying to get your butts out of jail, so don't even
start with me, okay, Langly?"
"What cancellations?" I asked.
"Just some stuff I planned on doing this morning," Danny said.
"Thankfully, now that you guys are free, I can get on with those
plans, unless I'm needed here."
Byers shook his head. "No. There's some research that we need to do,
but we can handle that."
"Thanks," Danny smiled as she left the kitchen. She returned a few
minutes later, having changed into jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was
pulled back with a headband and she carried a pair of sunglasses and
the van keys. "Anybody needs me, I'll have my cell. And I'm taking
the van."
"So, what are you going to be doing?" I asked.
"Don't worry about it," Danny said as she put on her sunglasses.
"I'll be back tonight." She left again. A few moments later we heard
the front door opened and closed.
"Well, I'm going to play some D&D," Langly said as he stood up.
"Langly, we have some information that needs to be researched first,"
Byers said.
"And then we have to figure out what the hell went wrong with the
equipment." Frohike added.
"But the equipment's in the van," I replied. "And Danny has the van."
"So, we'll wait until she gets back," Frohike said. He stood up.
Langly and Byers followed.
"So, what can I do?" I asked.
"Well, if you want to clean up in here, that would be appreciated,"
Byers said. "Then we have some documents that need to be shredded."
"Okay," I nodded.
"And what's the rule about the shredder?" Frohike asked.
I sighed. Every time I used the shredder Frohike made me recite the
rules. "Papers, si. Coffee filters, no. All documents are to be read
carefully before shredding, I know, I know." Okay, okay, so I made a
few mistakes with the shredder. But I've gotten better.
Frohike nodded. "Good. I'll be watching." He left the kitchen.
"And then there are some things that need to be tidied up," Byers
continued.
"And what's the rule about anything electric or digital?" Langly
asked.
"Dust rags, si. Water, no," I replied.
Langly nodded. "Good. And stay away from my desk. I'll get to it
later." He left.
"And if you wanted to do the filing," Byers said. "Just remember that
-"
"When filing things," I interrupted, "ignore the `The' in the title if
it's the first word."
"Alright," Byers replied. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to
ask." He turned and left also, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I
sighed as I gathered up plates and glasses and took them to the sink.
I washed them in silence, putting them in the dishwasher when I was
done.
END OF PART I