OK to send to newsgroup, I will forward to Gossamer and Ephemeral.  Thanks!   
      
   October 26,2004   
   Title: Where the Boys Are   
   Author: ML   
   Email: msnsc21@aol.com (feedback always welcome!)   
   Distribution:  Yes to Ephemeral and Gossamer, or if you've   
   archived me before.  If you haven't, please drop me a line   
   and let me know, and leave headers, etc. attached.  Thank you!   
   Rating: PG   
   Spoilers: Various S9 eps through The Truth   
   Classification: Vignette   
   Keywords: Lone Gunmen   
   Summary:  "So what do you want to do today?"   
      
   Note: This story is either AU or not.  It depends on whether   
   you accept what happened in "Jump the Shark."  I'd prefer that   
   JtS had never happened, but for the purposes of this story,   
   it did.   
      
   Disclaimer:  All the characters named in this story belong   
   to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions, and FOX.  I mean   
   no infringement, and I'm not making any money.   
      
   =====   
      
   Where the Boys Are   
   by ML   
      
   "Gentlemen, it appears we are at leisure," Byers said, as their   
   surroundings morphed into the familiar surroundings of the Magic   
   Bullet headquarters.   
      
   "So what do you want to do today?"  Frohike asked, examining a   
   loose thread on his sleeve.   
      
   "What we do every day," Langly said.  "World domination."   
      
   "That's the other guys, not us," Frohike replied.  "I have   
   questions.  For instance, where are we?"   
      
   Byers looked around him.  "It appears we're home."   
      
   "Yeah, but most of the stuff that's here we'd sold off," Langly   
   objected.  "Who would have put it back?"   
      
   "More to the point, how did *we* get here?"  Byers asked.  "A   
   few minutes ago, we were beside a desert highway, talking to   
   Mulder."   
      
   "Hell, I don't even know how we got there," said Frohike.  "Do   
   you remember where we were before that?"   
      
   Byers shook his head.  "Nothing's very clear.  I feel like I've   
   been dreaming.  Was Mulder on trial for something?  Were we   
   there?  I remember Mulder being gone."  He shook his head   
   again, trying to clear it.  "Some of it seems more like a   
   dream."   
      
   "Do you remember seeing Jimmy and Yves?"  Frohike asked.   
      
   Byers thought some more.  "We were investigating..."  His   
   dismayed look might have been comical, except it wasn't.   
   "Oh..."   
      
   "Yeah," said Langly.  "Not a dream, Byers."   
      
   Byers looked shaken.  "So it really did happen."   
      
   "Looks like it,"  Frohike said.  "You gotta stay with us, man."   
      
   "Yeah," Langly said.  "It's a drag having to explain it all to   
   you each time.  It's not something I wanna remember, either."   
      
   "You're the logical one, Byers," Frohike said with a hard look   
   at Langly.  "Maybe that's why you keep `forgetting' what happened.   
   I never heard of a ghost in denial."   
      
   "Didn't you ever see `Sixth Sense'? Langly asked.  "It was full   
   of ghosts in denial."   
      
   "Is that what we are?"  Byers asked.   
      
   "Hard to tell," said Frohike.  "Maybe we've just developed super   
   powers."   
      
   "Oh ha," said Langly.  "If that's the case, we should be able to   
   do anything."   
      
   "Not really, Comic-Book Boy," said Frohike.  "Most super heroes   
   have specific powers.  There are restrictions on what they can do.   
   They have vulnerabilities.  Didn't you ever see `Unbreakable?'"   
      
   "Okay," Langly said.  "So try something.  Fly around the room.   
   Go invisible.  Read my mind."   
      
   "Read this," Frohike said, holding up his middle finger.   
      
   Byers stepped between them.  "Now now, gentlemen," he said.   
   "Whatever we are, we should figure out what we're here for, and   
   what we can and cannot do."   
      
   "What would you do if you could do anything?"  Frohike asked.   
      
   "I'm not sure.  Go find Susanne, maybe?"   
      
   "And do what?"  Langly asked.  "Haunt her?"   
      
   "Put a sock in it, Langly," Frohike warned.   
      
   Byers blushed.  "I'd just like to know if she's okay.  Do you   
   suppose we'd know if she was, uh, a ghost, too?"   
      
   Frohike shrugged.  "Dunno, man.  I haven't seen any other ghostly   
   manifestations.  You?"   
      
   Langly blurted out,  "I'd see if Esther Nairn really is in   
   cyberspace."   
      
   "Yeah, you'd make a great ghost in the machine, man," said   
   Frohike.  "I shudder to think.  But I say we try whatever we   
   can.  Doesn't look like anyone's going to actually tell us   
   what we can do or not do."   
      
   "Not that we'd believe them anyway," Langly muttered.   
      
   x-x-x-x   
      
   After Langly tried with no success to will himself into the   
   hard drive of his old computer, and Byers had assumed a   
   meditative pose for who knows how long, they came to the   
   conclusion that their abilities were, in fact, limited.   
      
   "Maybe we can't go anywhere that we haven't already been,"   
   Byers theorized.   
      
   "Or we can't go until someone needs us?"  Frohike suggested.   
      
   "Why?  Where did you try to go?"  Langly asked.   
      
   "Nowhere.  I was watching you guys," Frohike replied.  "If we   
   can only go places we've been, how does that explain the desert?   
   Have you guys ever been before?"   
      
   The other two shook their heads.   
      
   "Well, let's try going somewhere where someone needs us,"   
   Frohike said.   
      
   x-x-x-x   
      
   The office was so quiet it might have been empty, except they   
   could see the man at his desk, his head in his hands.   
      
   A knock at the outer door startled all of them.   
      
   "Come," barked Skinner, straightening his spine.   
      
   The Gunmen looked around frantically for a place to hide, then   
   realized no one could see them.   
      
   Skinner's assistant opened the door.  "Sir, I'm getting ready to   
   leave.  Is there anything you need?"   
      
   "No," Skinner said, his voice sounding rusty.  He cleared his   
   throat.  "Thank you, Kim.  I'll see you tomorrow."   
      
   "Yes Sir," she said.  "The draft of the eulogy is in a folder   
   on my desk.  Do you want it?"   
      
   Skinner shook his head.  "Later."   
      
   "Good night, Sir," she said softly, and shut the door with a   
   quiet click.   
      
   "Whose eulogy?"  Byers whispered.   
      
   "Whose do you think?"  Frohike hissed back.   
      
   "Should we tell him?" Byers asked.   
      
   "*Can* we tell him?" Frohike countered.   
      
   "Why are you whispering?"  Langly asked in a normal tone.  "Hey   
   Skinner!"  he yelled.  There was no reaction from the man at   
   the desk.  "He obviously can't hear us."   
      
   They regarded the silent man staring at the papers before him.   
      
   "He looks kind of gray," Byers remarked.   
      
   "Yeah, did you notice that his secretary did, too?"  Frohike said.   
      
   "Maybe everyone looks like that to us," Byers said.   
      
   "Mulder didn't," Frohike pointed out.   
      
   "Maybe all this has something to do with Mulder," Byers continued.   
      
   "Well, that's a big duh," Langly said.  "We just don't know what."   
      
   Frohike stood beside Skinner at his desk, peering at the papers   
   before him.  "Shit, he's retiring!"   
      
   "Can't blame him," Langly said.   
      
   "We've got to find a way to tell him about Mulder and Scully,"   
   Byers said urgently.   
      
   "Do you think it'll make a difference to him?"  Langly asked.   
      
   "Of course it will!"  said Frohike.   
      
   Byers and Langly joined Frohike behind the desk, surrounding   
   Skinner.   
      
   "Skinner," Frohike said.   
      
   "Mister Skinner," added Byers.   
      
   "Hey Skinman," Langly bellowed.   
      
   Skinner seemed to flinch just a fraction.   
      
   The other two looked at Langly.   
      
   "What?"  he said.  "We want his attention, don't we?"   
      
   "Okay, on three," Frohike said.  "One, two, three..."   
      
   "Skinner!"  "Mr. Skinner!"  "Hey Skinman!"  The three voices   
   chorused behind Walter Skinner.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
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