By: Brenna "Snakelady" Dawkins
~The Lone Gunmen belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Studios. This story
is a work of fiction and was no way endorsed or acknowledged by C.C.
Rated Pg. ~
"Can I have a glass of water?" Came the whining voice over
the intercom Frohike now had second doubts about setting up for the
"Can't you get it yourself? I'm in the middle of something.
And besides, this is your fourth glass of water and I don't want to
find out you peed all over my bed in the morning." Frohike irritably
punched the call back button on his intercom that was an easy arms
length from his computer station.
"I'm thirsty and it's hot."
Frohike ground his teeth. "It's okay to be thirsty and
hot." It was something his dad had always said to him when he had
been little. It had been a practical and useful countermove that he
had never appreciated until now. Would he get much in return from
the South American trade market for this kid? He doubted
it. "Anyway, I bugged the door. It can't be opened until morning,
if it is, it will trigger a laser that will blast you into ash if you
so much as jiggle the handle. Go to bed. It can wait until morning."
There was awed silence on the other end. It was a boldfaced
lie, but he hoped it worked. The kid was young enough to believe it,
he hoped anyway. Ah, peace. The intercom went quiet at long last
and he continued with his latest storyline. So he jumped and almost
fell out of his chair when someone tapped him on the shoulder from
"Laser didn't work. You must have hooked it up wrong." A
small voice trying to sound grown up spoke softly from behind him.
"Kidů. what are you doing out of bed? What did I tell you?"
Frohike half spun his chair about to face the doe eyed seven year old
"But, I got lonely. Can't I just stay here with you?" Was
the youth's reply.
"No. Your mom said bedtime was eight o'clock. It's almost
ten thirty. Besides, this isn't a game I'm playing with and I don't
want to explain to your mother why you're so tired in the morning."
Frohike sighed. If he had any idea what he had let himself get
talked into before this, he'd never had done it.
Byers had made a date with some girl he met online and she
had a female friend and she didn't want to go out on a date with
Byers unless her friend could go. But her friend had this kid.
Langly gallantly agreed to partner the other woman and she agreed as
long as she had a sitter for the kid. And that's how he got stuck at
home watching a seven year old that had a million and one useless
questions for him and a knack for annoying the now very frazzled
aging computer nerd.
"But, it's a big bed. And it smells funny." The kid
whimpered almost pathetically.
"That's my bed. It smells like me." Frohike frowned. He
did NOT smell funny.
"When's Mommy going to come and get me?" The kid asked.
"In the morning. Six a.m. sharp." Frohike hoped and put a
little alarm reminder on his computer to announce that joyous time.
At least, that's what they had told him.
But that seemed like a lifetime away now.
"What are you doing?" The kid asked.
"I'm working, if you can call typing two words between a
barrage of stupid questions working." Frohike said with his usual
"What are you typing?"
He wanted to scream. Would the kid always counter his
answers with another question?
"Go to bed."
The kid tried to forcibly crawl into his lap and Frohike just
didn't have the energy to combat it so the kid happily slithered up
onto his new perch.
"Spin!" The kid sat in his lap and bounced up and down
painfully on his legs. "Spin!"
Frohike scowled. He'd never get this done before they had to
take it to the printer's tomorrow.
"Spin!" The kid chanted.
If only to keep the kid from pounding that tailbone into his
own leg, Frohike thought and obliged the kid by making the computer
chair spin in place. He was really glad no one could see him do
that. The kid squealed in delight and urged Frohike to go faster.
It didn't last long. He was getting dizzy and the kid was shrieking
with glee at the top of his lungs.
"Okay. That's enough. Now, get to bed." He commanded and
tried to shove the kid off of his lap.
"Don't wanna go back upstairs. It's scary to go by myself."
The kid did his best to remain on his perch and squirmed and then
latched onto Frohike's arm and by clamping his legs around an
intensely annoyed Lone Gunmen.
"You came down here with no problem."
The kid wouldn't hear any of it and wriggled until he was
able to see the computer screen and grabbed onto the keyboard.
"HEY!" Frohike made to grab the precious commodity from the
"You get Diablo II on this?" The kid proceeded to punch some
"No. And I doubt you are allowed to play such a game
anyway. Besides, that'd be on Langly's computer." Frohike yanked
the keyboard out of the kid's hands. "Come on."
He led the kid to his bedroom and pointed to his bed but the
kid shuffled his bare feet reluctantly. Frohike placed a hand on the
kids back and ushered the kid to the bed.
"Mom always tucks me in." The kid whined as he slipped under
Frohike growled. "I'm not your mom." He sighed and then
proceeded to tuck the kid in. "Now, go to sleep."
God help him!
"Fine. This is the tale of The Little Kid and the Three
"Not heard of that one."
"Great. So shut up and let me tell it." Frohike sat on the
bed. "Now, once upon a time, there was a little bra-er, kid who
thought it would be neat to hang out with three of the coolest guys
in town. Now, unfortunately, the really cool guys were not home, but
the kid decided to break in and sift through all of their highly
"Is the kid called Goldilocks?"
"The kid doesn't have a name." Frohike said.
"Doesn't need one."
"Everyone needs a name."
"No. It doesn't matter. It's just a story. Now shut up and
let me tell it."
The phone rang. "At this hour?" Frohike picked it
up. "Lone Gunmen." A pause. "What? You're kidding. You guys owe
me BIG time for this." He slammed the phone back into the receiver.
"What's wrong?" The kid asked his hundredth thousandth
"Time for a road trip, kid." Frohike sighed.
"I get to stay up?" The kid asked excitedly.
"Not MY idea. Come on, get some shoes on."
The kid scrambled out of the bed and Frohike had to help him
tie up his laces.
"Where are we going?"
"No where." Frohike grabbed his vest. "Move it or lose it!"
The kid hurried after Frohike who, after securing the
warehouse, hopped into the van with the kid right behind. He sped
out of the drive and onto the street grumbling to himself. It wasn't
how he had planned to spend the night. He pulled up to the police
station and dragged the kid with him and asked the officer at the
front desk where booking was.
They were led into a room where he found the four of them,
sitting at a table in a room with a holding cell and guarded by two
"Okay, you guys. What happened?" Frohike glowered at Byers
and Langly. The kid ran up to his mother who took him in her arms.
"It was his fault." Langly pointed his finger at Byers.
"They swore it was legit." Byers insisted.
"What are you talking about?"
"The tickets." Langly replied.
"What tickets?" Frohike said wearily.
"The All-Star tickets. We stumbled upon a rather large
fencing operation." Byers said.
Langly was unhappy. "We didn't know it at first. And they
had been under surveillance by the cops and we happened to be in the
wrong place at the wrong time."
"Wait, you mean you guys bought bogus tickets and were picked
up for it while I'm stuck with the kid? Brilliant. I've of a mind
to leave you guys here overnight to teach you a lesson."
"You wouldn't!" Langly sat up in his chair indignantly.
"Watch me, hippy."
"Frohike. What are your intentions?" Byers asked seriously.
"I'll get you guys outů but not tonight. Come on, kid. I'll
get you some ice cream." He held his gloved hand out and the kid
said bye to his mom who was glaring daggers at Frohike.
"Chocolate chip?" The kid grabbed onto Frohike's hand and
looked up adoringly at the older man.
"Hey, whatever you want. Ta ta, guys and gals. See you in
Frohike felt justified in his form of punishment and left to
the sound of outraged protests. Fine with him. He and a happy seven
year old strolled out of the station to see if there were any ice
cream parlors still open so late. The kid really wasn't so bad. He
was willing to drop his mother with the promise of ice cream and his
company. What the Hell? Kid's got taste. And the rest of the night
went much more smoothly.