From: theidiosyncraticstanwyck@yahoo.com   
      
   Title: Modern Miracles: Or, Uncle Frohike Saves the Day   
   Author: the idiosyncratic stanwyck   
   (theidiosyncraticstanwyck@yahoo.com)   
   Rating: G   
   Summary: Take leftover curry; add Scully, Byers, Langly, a   
   rainstorm, and a crying baby. Stir well.   
   Author's notes: Written for the Fando Baby Fic Challenge in   
   honor of Tali and her newest addition. Challenge elements   
   at end.   
      
   Modern Miracles (1/1)   
      
   Surely they'd been joking about the curry.   
      
   At least that's what Scully was telling herself as she   
   gripped her steering wheel, inching toward the dark,   
   cavernous building where the Lone Gunmen worked and lived,   
   in a part of town that emerged on the far side of   
   "unfashionable" in a gray area somewhere between   
   "disreputable" and "downright dangerous."   
      
   When she'd left home, it had merely been damp and dismal;   
   now it was, to put it bluntly, raining like a son of a   
   bitch, and she'd already been on the road for forty-five   
   minutes. She sighed and focused on the red tail lights of   
   the car in front of her, made blurry and indistinct by the   
   driving rain sheeting down the windshield.   
      
   Yeah - they must have been joking about the curry. Not even   
   those three could be so stupid as to -- no, really, it   
   wasn't even worth contemplating. It had merely been a ploy   
   to roust her out of her dry, comfortable apartment and get   
   her to come over and help them. And it had worked, hadn't   
   it?   
      
   The one good thing about the Gunmen's neighborhood was that   
   finding parking was seldom a problem. Scully pulled into a   
   space on the street, withdrew the key from the ignition,   
   and sat still for a moment, listening to the rain drum on   
   the roof of her car. Maybe if she waited a few minutes the   
   storm would let up marginally.   
      
   But, Christ - if they hadn't been joking - if they were   
   really feeding curry to a baby - they could have a serious   
   medical emergency on their hands. After taking a deep   
   breath for courage, Scully leapt from the car, slamming the   
   door behind her, and dashed through the night.   
      
   An eternity seemed to tick by as she jabbed the Gunmen's   
   buzzer repeatedly; by the time Langly finally admitted her,   
   she was soaked to the skin. In their defense, the two men   
   inside couldn't possibly have heard the puny imprecations   
   of the buzzer over the operatic wailing of the very red-   
   faced baby who was kicking his tiny feet and yanking on a   
   limp strand of Langly's hair in time with his cries.   
      
   Byers rushed toward Scully, a look of relief mingling with   
   the profound suffering on his face. "Agent Scully, I'm so   
   glad you're here!" His eyebrows tightened resentfully. "It   
   certainly took you long enough."   
      
   Such a reproach was patently unusual when it came from John   
   Byers. Scully shrugged out of her dripping coat and tucked   
   her sodden hair behind her ears. "I might've gotten here   
   faster if I had an ark," she responded grimly. "I thought   
   Langly said you were covering some mysterious assignment   
   tonight."   
      
   Byers offered Scully a tattered but blissfully dry bath   
   towel. "No, *Frohike* is on assignment. I've been here all   
   afternoon."   
      
   Scully, increasingly puzzled, mopped excess water from her   
   clothes and skin and watched as Langly bobbed and swayed   
   with the baby. True, Langly had called her on her cell, and   
   the connection had been terrible; but she had assumed that   
   Byers, not Frohike, was missing in action. She would've   
   counted on the quietest of the trio to be able to keep the   
   situation under control.   
      
   "You're sure my presence is really necessary?" she had   
   demanded over the phone. "Why don't you call Mulder? I'm   
   sure he owes you a favor."   
      
   Langly had practically guffawed at that. "Call Mulder?   
   About a *baby*?"   
      
   She'd sighed. Right - she had breasts and two x   
   chromosomes, so she was automatically a font of knowledge   
   related to all things baby. "Well, when you put it that way   
   - but why the hell would you call me either?" she'd pointed   
   out.   
      
   That's when Langly had played his trump card. "Hey, the   
   kid's hungry, and we ran out of the stuff his mom left, and   
   we already gave him a cherry popsicle. Can you put curry in   
   a bottle?"   
      
   Now Langly held the baby out to her, but she sidestepped.   
   "Find me some dry clothes," she ordered, "and explain again   
   how you ended up baby-sitting."   
      
   Langly shoved the baby into Byers' arms and trotted off   
   into another room.   
      
   "He belongs to Stephanie Kim, across the hall," Byers   
   supplied. "She's taking night classes to get her business   
   degree. Tonight she has a big final, and her regular sitter   
   called in sick at the last minute."   
      
   "We said we'd keep Joe," Langly said as he rejoined them,   
   "but the little dude's been crying full blast for two   
   hours. We've tried everything we can think of."   
      
   He handed Scully a wad of clothing. Upon closer inspection   
   she discovered that she was holding a Butthole Surfers t-   
   shirt and Tasmanian Devil boxers. Whatever - she was in no   
   position to be picky.   
      
   Scully emerged from the bathroom in her borrowed clothing   
   and obligingly took the baby. He quieted for a few minutes   
   as he rooted in the vicinity of her breasts, but only began   
   to bellow more loudly when he came up empty. "I know," she   
   sighed to him, "it's kind of a tease, isn't it, Joe?"   
      
   "I'm surprised you didn't just look up baby-minding tips on   
   the Internet," Scully said.   
      
   Langly scowled. "We can't. Frohike's rebuilding the Macs,   
   so they're all out of commission. And my laptop is dead   
   because Byers ruined it."   
      
   Byers glared defensively. "It's not my fault! I don't know   
   why you left it in the kitchen sink in the first place."   
      
   Little Joe Kim was howling his displeasure and Langly and   
   Byers were eyeing Scully reproachfully for not being able   
   to work some secret female or medical magic when they heard   
   the multiple locks on the apartment door being disengaged.   
   Accordingly, the door opened and Frohike appeared. Byers   
   and Langly rushed him as if they were groupies at a rock   
   concert, and Scully looked on, mystified.   
      
   "Okay, okay, guys, quit'cher bitching," Frohike admonished   
   his business partners as he scooped the baby from Langly's   
   arms. "I got your messages and came as soon as I could." He   
   spared Scully a smile, apparently unfazed by her attire.   
   "Hey, Scully. It was nice of you to give these lunkheads a   
   hand, but Uncle Melvin's here now." He leaned down and   
   spoke conspiratorially to Joe. "Hey, kid - do you miss your   
   mom? You look a little cranky, there. In fact, I think the   
   word of the day is 'cranky.' Uncle Byers is cranky - Uncle   
   Langly is cranky - and Aunt Scully is -" His eyes narrowed.   
   "Wearing my underwear."   
      
   Ignoring the provenance of her garments, Scully looked on   
   in shock. From the instant Frohike had taken Joe into his   
   arms, the baby had fallen silent, making the remedy look   
   deceptively quick and easy.   
      
   Who said there were no modern miracles? Compared to this,   
   the fishes and the loaves were nothing.   
      
   **The End**   
      
   Challenge elements: baby, boxers, dead laptop, curry,   
   cranky, quick, easy, and cherry. Oh, and it was supposed to   
   be under 500 words, but for me, 1,200 is still a miracle of   
   brevity.   
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)