From: Reese Date: Sat, 18 Jul 1998 18:26:26 -1000 Subject: NEW: "Frohike's Destiny" (1/5) Disclaimer: All X Files characters in this story are the property of 1013 and CC, no infringement intended Summary: Frohike begins a quest across the country to meet his one true love (PG) Frohike's Destiny (Part 1 of 5) The Mighty Mighty Boss Tones slammed out the song, "The Impression that I Get" as Byers and Langly inspected the giant autographed poster of a seductive looking Sarah Michelle Gelar on the wall. The Lone Gunmen Headquarters was an awful mess, littered with books, papers, and computer accessories. Byers nonchalantly picked up some printed emails from Buffy@aol.com, addressed to Frohike. One of them, a happy birthday message from Sarah, was taped on the wall. Langly took the message down from the wall to take a closer look as Frohike, sitting at his computer, busied himself with hacking into the Department of Defense. The computer screen showed the words, "Department of Defense: Enter Access Code," in the center, and after a few moments typing, Frohike found himself inside the DOD, with the power to access orbiting weather satellites. The computer screen read, "WEATHER CAM - INFRARED MODE" and showed an infrared image of their Washington, D.C. neighborhood. The image magnified several times every second so that Frohike could see an infrared image of himself sitting at his computer, through the window. "Oh yeah, I am the kung fu MASTER!!!" Frohike said with satisfaction. The song stopped and Frohike exited the DOD secret files. He grabbed a remote and turned on "Xena:Warrior Princess." "Get rid of this crap," said Langly with disgust as he crumpled up Sarah's birthday message and tossed it into the trash. Meanwhile, Byers watched the TV screen with obvious scorn for Frohike's taste in television. "How ... how can you do that? She wrote that to me on my birthday!" Frohike cried. "Like in 500 years Sarah Michelle Gelar will waste her time writing to you," Langly pronounced. Frohike ran over and dug out the message from the trash. He tried to smooth it out. "All this Buffy crap polluting our room--it drives me nuts! You don't mean anything to her." Langly said. Langly took a look at the multitude of printed emails lying on the floor, sent by "Buffy@aol.com," and he kicked the papers around and chuckled. "What are you talking about, she likes me!" Frohike thumped his bullet-proof vest - covered chest with his left fist. "Look at all these messages from her." "Don't you know, Frohike," Langly said sarcastically, "You're a NERD. Beautiful girls never go for the nerds. They go for the Brad Pitt's, the Tom Cruise's and the Leonardo DiCaprio's." "...Like Agent Scully," Byers cut in with a smile. "She's obviously in love with our favorite FBI poster boy Mulder. I think you have more of a chance with this TV actress than you do with HER." "All right now, leave the beautiful Dana Scully out of this, please," Frohike said. "Anyway," Langly went on, "If she's really writing to you, it's a joke. She's just playing you." "Well, I don't know..." "Don't be naive," Langly said. "You shouldn't be so desperate for a date that you have to turn to the internet for love. Get a life." "Maybe you're right..." Langly turned toward Xena on the TV set. "And change the channel, PLEASE! I hate that ugly bitch." Langly said. Frohike stood up and was about to turn off his monitor, when a beeping sound went off, signalling the arrival of new email. Frohike excitedly opened up his mailbox. As the sounds of "I'm a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie World" came out of Frohike's speakers and Xena's annoying husky voice blared out of the TV set, Frohike looked at his computer screen, which showed the following message from Sarah. Dear Frohike, You are my one and only love. I need you desperately. Come to Los Angeles, and we will be together forever. I want to marry you and make lots of babies. You know where to find me. love, Sarah. Frohike turned to Langly happily. He pointed to the screen. "She loves me, she really loves me!" The next morning saw Frohike throwing all kinds of junk into his red Jeep: his emails from Sarah, CDs, and loads of clothing, as well as his super-duper laptop, and a spare bullet proof vest. Langly appeared in the doorway. "Now where the hell would you be going off to?" "As soon as Sarah Michelle Gelar gets off work filming "Buffy" at USC, in two weeks, I'll be meeting her." Langly laughed as he slapped Frohike on the back. "Go get her!" he said. end part one. Frohike's Destiny, part 2 of 5 Nearly two weeks had passed as Frohike drove his red Jeep across the country. He was nearing Las Vegas, heading west in a beeline for Los Angeles. It was a bright, scorching summer day as Frohike drove along at 80 mph, singing along to a dance mix of Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On." Wiping the sweat pouring profusely from his brow, he noticed in the distance a sign that said "In and Out Burger." Frohike pulled off the freeway and turned into the In and Out Burger parking lot. Inside In and Out Burger, Frohike carried a tray laden with a cheeseburger and fries. As he looked for a seat, he noticed an attractive redhead dressed in beige pants and a black business suit jacket. She was carrying her order to her own table, and Frohike gasped in shock as he realized he was looking at Dana Scully. This has got to be some kind of mirage, he thought. A tall, dark man was harassing her. "I think I'm in love," he said. The man toppled over her burger, sending it falling on the floor. Scully stared at him, annoyed. "Come on, let's do the wild thing." he said. "Hey," Frohike shouted, charging into the fray, "get your damn hands off her!" Frohike suddenly grabbed the man and threw him to the floor after performing a dizzying martial arts move. The man grunted in pain. Scully observed the proceedings with a shocked interest. "You want to take this outside, *PUNK*?" Frohike blustered. "No, it's cool, man. It's cool." The man slowly got up and left. "Damn it," Scully said, "There goes my lunch." Frohike handed his cheeseburger over to Scully, who accepted it with a grateful smile. "Thanks, Frohike." Scully said with a blush. "No problem. What are you doing in Las Vegas, Agent Scully? Where's Mulder?" "Oh, I'm on vacation," Scully said. "I've been spending the last three days gambling, and now I'm going to Disneyland. As for Mulder, he's still in D.C. Probably throwing pencils at the ceiling and watching his videos, I'll bet. Say,... where'd you learn to do that---that move?" "Oh, I learned from the best," Frohike said proudly. "What, did you take lessons?" "No," he answered, getting embarrassed, "I, uh, watch a shitload of Xena." Outside the restaurant, Alex Krycek put on his pair of amber tinted sunglasses as he checked the clip in his gun and walked inside. "Say, you need a ride to LA?" Frohike asked. As Scully opened her mouth to answer, they both noticed Krycek standing before their table. "How's the cheeseburger, Agent Scully?" Krycek said with that ersatz smile of his. "Agent Scully, I need your opinion," Krycek said. "There's the hamburger, there's the cheeseburger, and there's the double double, and I just can't decide. It's just that.... they're all so good!" There was a beat. "So," Krycek said, "If you were about to die and had to choose between the three, which would you go for?" Under the table, Scully's right hand slowly went for her pants pocket... "Is that a hypothetical question, Krycek?" "You ever seen those Tombstone Pizza commercials?" Scully slowly pulled out her gun out of her pocket. "I say the cheeseburger." "Well, now, thanks a ton, Scully." He pulled out his piece and pointed it at Scully's head. "Who sent you?" Scully said. "They want you dead, Agent Scully, do you understand me? They want you filled up with bullets, and that's where I come in. I'm going to make you a very, very *famous* woman..." Suddenly, a deafening gunshot was heard from under the table. Everyone in the restaurant turned around in alarm. Krycek collapsed in pain, the gun dropping form his hand. As Krycek clutched his wounded leg, Scully grabbed Frohike and made a break for it. Krycek grabbed his gun and started shooting at them. His shots shatter the glass windows near the entrance, but Scully and Frohike were soon out of range. "You are SO dead, you hear me! I'm going to get you, you bitch!" Patrons got up and started running. In his haste to shoot Scully, Krycek blasted innocent bystanders left and right, shooting indiscriminately. "Out of my way, you burger-eating lard-asses!!!" Krycek howled in fury. Krycek hobbled to his feet and mowed down a cashier, an old lady, and a little kid. The floor was littered with dead bodies, pools of blood, and the remains of half-eaten burgers. As Krycek reached the exit, he heard the sounds of Frohike's jeep driving off in the distance. end part two of five "Frohike's Destiny" (3/5) It was some time after the shoot-out, and Frohike's jeep pulled into a parking lot ouside of a motel in the middle of the California desert. As soon as they got inside the motel room, Scully turned on the light and plopped herself onto the single double bed. Frohike walked into the room carrying his super-duper upgraded laptop computer. He put it down near the bureau. Scully took off her shoes. "Aren't you going to sleep after all that excitement?" Scully said. Frohike could hardly believe his situation. He was really spending a night with Dana Katherine Scully in the same motel room! Could life be any better than this?! Yes, it could, he reflected. Sarah Michelle Gelar is the one for me; even Scully has to take a back seat to her captivating beauty, he thought. "Maybe later," Frohike said, keeping his cool and adjusting his glasses. Scully pulled out a clip from her hair. She shook her head and her beautiful red hair whirled around her head in one smooth motion. Frohike turned his computer on, and Scully walked over to him. She took off her jacket. Frohike noticed that she was wearing a white shirt with no bra underneath. A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead. His computer was hooked into the phone line, and he was checking his email. Frohike glanced at Scully as she took off her pants, too, so no she was dressed much like Sigourney Weaver at the end of ALIEN. He forced himself to turn away and looked back to his computer. He started playing "Solitaire." "You look tense," Scully said. "Want a massage?" "No, as a matter of fact..." "Come on, it's just a massage." "I'm getting married when I get to LA." Scully looked like she had heard the funniest thing in her life. She threw a teasing look at Frohike. "Are you worried that I'm going to SEDUCE you, Frohike? Ah, ha, ha, ha!" Frohike blushed as Scully started rubbing her hands on his shoulders and upper back, taking off his bullet proof vest in order to do so. He sat frozen, his eyes closed, as Scully massaged him. "I... I just don't want to take advantage of you, Agent Scully," Frohike said. "Your life is in danger. You're a really nice person, and I--I want to help you, that's all." "Why," Scully said with a smile, "that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a long time. You know, you're really cute when you start blushing, did you know that?" Complete silence. Their faces were so close, they could almost kiss. Instead of Scully, now Frohike saw an image of Sarah kneeling beside him, her face on a level with his, her eyes shining. She was smiling. Sarah closed her eyes and Frohike reached out to touch her cheek-- Frohike blinked stupidly. Sarah was gone, and Scully sat in her place, smiling dreamily, her eyes closed. Frohike suddenly retracted his hand that was about to caress her face. He shook his head in confusion and got up. "Excuse me, Agent Scully, I REALLY have to go to the bathroom right now." Frohike got up and walked into the bathroom. Scully sat there with a bemused smile on her face. (the next day) A fountain shot water upward in a high stream as Frohike and Scully streaked past on the nearby California highway. As Frohike and Scully cruised down the stretch at 80 mph, the song, "Everything You Know Is Wrong," by Weird Al Yankovic, played on his speakers. It was a beautiful day, and a sign overhead read, "Los Angeles: 5 miles." Scully was looking at Frohike's CD collection. "Frohike, you have one messed up CD collection. Are you sure you don't require psychiatric help?" The sound of a police siren was heard in the distance as it approached Frohike's jeep. Scully looked at the speedometer. It read 100 mph. "I think your music has exerted an excessive stimulation of your adrenal glands," she observed in a clinical voice. Moments later, the jeep was pulled over by the California Highway Patrol. A tall, imposing man wearing sun glasses, sporting a badge that read, Sergeant Dixon, walked up. "I want to see your driver's license and your motor vehicle registration," he said. Dixon took a look at Scully and paused in recognition. He walked back to his motorcycle after receiving the requested items and said something into his radio. The clock on Frohike's dashboard read 4:30 PM. The plan was to drop Scully off somewhere safe and get his ass as fast as he could to USC, where he would meet Sarah Michelle Gelar at 5:00 PM. Obviously, things weren't going as planned. "What's taking him so long?" Scully said. The clock now read 4:45 PM, and a helicopter began it's descent to the highway below. Frohike and Scully exchanged puzzled glances as they stood outside the jeep with Sergeant Dixon. Who should emerge from the helicopter but *Agent Fox Mulder*!!! Frohike didn't know whether to be scared or relieved. Scully was apparently as confused as he was. Dressed in his work clothes, complete with bad suit tie, dark, imposing trench coat, and prominent FBI tag, Mulder briskly approached Frohike, Scully, and the sergeant. He looked very, *very* pissed off. end of part three Frohike's Destiny (part 4 of 5) "Well, Scully, fancy I should see YOU here." Mulder said ironically. Mulder stood in front of Scully with his hands on his hips as he glared at her. Scully gave him a defiant look in return. "I didn't think you had it in you to stop watching your pornos long enough to get off your sad ass and come all the way down here to find me." she said in an insolent voice. Ouch, Frohike thought. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Now, sunshine, the Consortium wants to kill you. I can't believe, at a time like this, you would go off running with Frohike, of all people. I mean, FROHIKE, for Chrissakes! He's a goddamn repulsive little troll! Don't you know, *I'm* the only one who can protect you! I thought after all these years, you would realize that. It's fate, Scully; we belong together." Mulder stopped long enough to glare at Frohike. "I can't believe you would... would BETRAY me like this, Scully!" Scully nodded carelessly. "You don't own me, Mulder. I have a life too, and I can spend time with anyone I want. It's none of your damn business!" Mulder nodded his head nonchalantly. "Scully, come on back to D.C. with me. I've missed you. Let's go hang out at my place; we can have some 'fun.' I like the night life... I like to party." He winked at Scully. "What do you say?" "Fuck you, Mulder!" Scully said as she spat in his face. Mulder winced and looked angrily at her. Something suddenly snapped. Without warning, he slapped her hard across the face, sending her flying back into the jeep. "You little spy, I'll teach you to mess with me. NO ONE says 'no' to me, understand?" Mulder climbed after Scully into the jeep. He slapped her hard across the face, left and right. Frohike, held by Dixon, stood by helplessly. As Scully gasped in pain, Mulder took off his trench coat and threw it out of the jeep. "I love you, Scully, and this is how you repay me! You ungrateful bitch!" Mulder cried furiously as he tried to strangle her. Frohike broke loose and grabbed Mulder from behind. "Let her go, are you crazy?!" Frohike said. "Down, Frohike!!!" Mulder said as he swung his arm around, knocking him back to the asphalt. Momentarily, Scully was forgotten as Mulder stepped out of the jeep and rolled his dress shirt sleeves up his arms. "You want some too, huh? How dare you steal Scully from me, you pathetic prick!!!" A car drove by, pulled over, and slowed to a halt, and Krycek, wearing his shades, sat inside. Unnoticed by the others, he pulled up an M60 rifle. Frohike lay on the ground, squirming in pain, and Scully looked out the door of the jeep and saw him. She cried out his name and Frohike looked to her. For a moment, he saw Sarah's face again, calling him plaintively, and he trembled in pain and confusion as he stared back. The clock read 4:50 PM. Then the image became Scully again. Mulder kicked Frohike in the groin. Frohike cried in anguish. Scully got out of the jeep and went to Frohike, who struggled to get up and face Mulder. "Get out of the way, Scully! I'm teaching this bastard a lesson--" Mulder shoved Scully viciously to the ground. Seconds later, machine gun fire erupted from Krycek's car. Mulder, standing between Krycek and Scully, was quickly shot dead. Frohike shielded Scully from the fire by taking several hits himself, the bullets tearing into his bullet-proof vest. The highway cop pulled out his pistol, and Krycek cursed in Russian as he swung around to perforate him. The jeep sped off as Frohike and Scully made their break for it. Krycek got out of his car and got off a few shots before running out of ammo. He threw his gun down near the bloodied bodies of Mulder, Dixon, and the helicopter pilot as he climbed into the chopper. Scully looked back and saw no sign of Krycek or his car, only regular traffic. Frohike, his face bruised, drove at high speeds and weaved through traffic like a madman. He glanced at her. "You okay, Scully?" "I'm fine, Frohike," Scully said. She sat in silence for a few seconds. "Wow, that bullet-proof vest of yours really DOES come in handy," she noted with a smile. Frohike coughed. He could feel he'd possibly injured some ribs. The chopper came into view above them, making vicious dives and banks. Alex Krycek flew the chopper, a look of relentless purpose on his face. As Scully looked up and saw his face through the glass, she marvelled at Krycek's amazing ability to fly a chopper with only one arm. "It's him," Scully breathed. "He won't get his hands on you, I promise!" Frohike said. Scully looked at Frohike as if seeing him for the first time as he pulled over hard to the right, crossing solid white lines and cutting in front of other cars, into the Exposition Boulevard exit. The chopper made a turn to match their direction as Frohike's jeep pulled onto Exposition and Figueroa Streets. Frohike began to lose control of the vehicle. The temperature meter was off the scale. The jeep crashed into a flower shp, sending flowers and crap flying all over the place. Customers and employees fled in terror. Scully and Frohike got out. As Frohike left, he paused and turned back to his jeep. He ran back and grabbed his laptop along with his modem cable. "Frohike, forget your stupid computer! There's NO TIME!!!" Scully screamed. Frohike ignored her as he yanked out a telephone and inserted the modem cable, turning his computer on. "I've got a plan..." he said. Scully walked up to Frohike and looked over his shoulder as he connected to the Department of Defense's top secret Star Wars satellites. The computer screen showed a three dimensional image of one of the orbiting satellites. At the bottom, there was a tag that read, SELECT TARGET. On a map of the United States, Frohike clicked on Los Angeles. An image of Los Angeles appeared, and rapidly magnified to focus on this part of South Central LA. "Frohike, what the *hell* are you doing?!?" "Watch and learn, sweetie," Frohike said with satisfaction. The chopper, its blades still spinning, hovered a few feet above the ground, just fifty feet ouside the shop, sending pedestrians and drivers fleeing in terror. Inside the shop, Frohike clicked a button that said, ARM LASERS. The chopper landed, crushing a few cars as it did so, and Krycek stepped out cockily. He pulled out a fearsome looking rocket launcher. "I've got a little present for you, Agent Scully!" he shouted. "Let's get this party started. IT'S JUDGMENT DAY!!!!!!!" Krycek aimed his rocket launcher at Scully and Frohike, who both ducked and covered. A split second later, a searing, high energy laser beam came raining from the sky, causing the chopper to erupt in a massive fireball, killing Krycek instantly. Every car in the street was incinerated. Glass shards flew into the flower shop along with steel and concrete fragments, and a wood beam from the ceiling fell to the floor onto Scully and Frohike. Five minutes later, Frohike slowly and painfully emerged from the pile of rubble and ashes. His face and clothing were blackened with soot and his shirt sleeves were torn. His glasses were cracked, and he had to discard them. He grunted as he struggled to shove away the large beam that covered Scully. Frohike pulled up Scully and held her in his arms. Her clothes were also torn, and a large bloodstain stretched across her abdomen. "We got him...." Scully said. "We sure did." Scully coughed painfully, closing her eyes. "I'm done for, Frohike." "No, Scully, don't say that. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see." A tear ran down Scully's face. She motioned for Frohike to move closer, which he did. Finally, before Frohike could realize what was happening, Scully hooked an arm weakly around his neck and pulled him toward her. Frohike, hesitating, blinked and saw Sarah's face again. He was holding Sarah in his arms and she smiled at him. Frohike turned away and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Dana Scully. It was Scully that he finally kissed, lightly at first, but then passionately. After a long time, he stopped, breathless, and looked at her confusedly. She was smiling peacefully. Her eyes closed. Then it was over. Coming up: THE FINAL CHAPTER!!!!!!! Frohike's Destiny (part 5 of 5) -- The Final Chapter of the Frohike Saga. Bloodied, bruised, and with torn clothes, Frohike approached the Tommy Trojan statue in the middle of the University of Southern California campus. The place was mostly deserted, as it happened to be a Saturday evening. The trailers lined up further down the road were devoid of human activity. All camera lights were off. Frohike checked his watch. A yellow piece of paper flew by, kicked along by the wind. Frohike saw a lone figure sitting quietly down at the base of the statue. It was Sarah Michelle Gelar. "Sarah, it's me, finally." Frohike said breathlessly. She looked at him blankly. "I have to apologize for my appearance. I've just been through a lot lately, and I hope you'll understand--" Sarah began tugging at her face and pulled. As Frohike's jaw dropped in shock, Sarah ripped off her face to reveal the CIGARETTE SMOKING MAN! Sarah spoke, and her voice was the old, familiar Buffy voice. "You never suspected it, did you, Mr. Frohike?" "That you aren't Sarah?" Sarah Michelle Gelar laughed an evil, sinsiter, mocking laugh as "she" threw her head back. She reached down and pulled out a little device attached to her throat. When "she" spoke again, it was the cold voice of the Cigarette Smoking Man. "Amazing what wonders these voice-altering chips can do, wouldn't you agree?" Frohike stared dumbly. All the walls of his mind were crumbling in chaos. He didn't know what to believe anymore. "You've got it all wrong, my dear Frohike. I AM SARAH MICHELLE GELAR. You've seen me on TV. I've got this nice pretty face--" Sarah held up her full face mask and blonde wig-- "--and a sweet, wonderful voice, as well as a body most guys would kill for. They want me, Frohike. They want to fuck me. But none of them know the truth." "You sick, sick bastard!" Frohike managed to gasp. "They believed the lie." Sarah said. "They fell in love with my image. It was such a turn-on! But what would happen if they realized that their beloved actress was an ugly-ass, cross-dressing, homosexual white guy who covers up government conspiracies in his spare time?" Sarah put the mask and wig back on. She approached Frohike and put her hand on his shoulder. Frohike struggled as Sarah French-kissed him full on the mouth. When she finished, Frohike turned and spat out as hard as he could. "Get the hell away from me!" "Don't you see, Frohike. It's meant to be. We belong to each other. I'm the most beautiful actress on prime-time TV. You deserve the best... you nerd." Frohike stared blankly. "Did you just call me a nerd?" "Fuck that ugly bitch, Xena." Sarah continued her tirade. "Fuck those babes who show up in 'The Adventures of Hercules.' They all suck ass. Come to me, your one and only love; you know you want it." Sarah grabbed Frohike and threw him to the ground. She pushed him on his back with one foot, holding him down, as she undid her belt, like a dominatrix. She began mercilessly whipping him across the ass. "Take this, you loser! Say 'uncle,' Frohike!!! You're MY bitch, now!!!" Frohike was absolutely livid. He cried out in fury, "Turn it off! TURN IT OFF!!!!!!!" Sarah Michelle Gelar disappeared, along with the entire Tommy Trojan statue background. * * * It was night time at Lone Gunmen Headquarters. Frohike ripped off his virtual reality goggles and angrily hurled them to the floor. He got up, cursing under his breath, and kicked it across the room. He glared at Langly, who sat on the sofa with an old photo of the Consortium from 1973, the one that contained the Cigarette Smoking Man. Byers looked on with amusement. Langly looked like he was ready to burst out laughing. "Hey, Frohike, I think you should know that I had nothing to do with--" Langly began with feigned innocence. "I'm going to kill you, you lousy BASTARD!!!" "--with that *fine* piece of work." Langly finished. Frohike lunged off his chair and tackled Langly on the sofa. He grabbed Langly's throat and they rolled off onto the floor, both of them throwing punches. "Gentlemen, I think you should stop before you destroy something," Byers said, ready to burst out laughing himself. Langly gasped for air, still laughing. "Okay, okay! I won't mess with your program--I promise!" "You sons of bitches," Frohike muttered. Frohike let him go and got up. He looked out the window. It was dark and rainy outside. Grabbing his jacket, Frohike headed out the door. Langly and Byers watched him leave and nodded to each other. Langly took a seat at Frohike's computer. "Sucker," he said. Langly and Byers laughed diabolically as they plotted Frohike's next virtual reality adventure. * * * Frohike stood outside Scully's apartment, feeling like an idiot. He was wet, tired, and pissed with the other Lone Gunmen. It wasn't *too*late, Frohike noted as he looked at his watch. He knocked on Scully's door, taking off his hat and holding it in his gloved hand. Scully answered the door. "Frohike?" she said, bewildered. "Hi, Scully. Um, can I buy you a drink?" Frohike said bashfully as he held his hat with one hand and his umbrella with the other. Scully gave him an embarrassed look. "I'm sorry, Frohike--I, um, have to do an autopsy--" Frohike cringed in disappointment. He was being rejected for an *autopsy*?! This was truly a crushing blow to his pride. If Langly and Byers ever found out, he would never live it down. "--for Mulder," Scully added, smiling enigmatically. Was she smiling because she was happy to have found such a convenient excuse not to go out with him? Frohike didn't know. All he could do was put his hat back on, stiffly bid Scully good-night, and walk off. Moments later, Frohike sat by himself at the bar, drinking a Bourbon. As he downed another glass, he reached into his pocket and took out a magazine clipping of Sarah Michelle Gelar. She was Sarah, the most beautiful actress on prime time TV. She was dreamy, sweet, and wonderful. But she'll never be Dana Scully, Frohike thought miserably, as he finally crumpled the picture in his fist and rested his hands on the counter, drinking the dark, lonely night off to a far away place. The End. So, did any of you like my crazy Frohike story? I welcome your comments. email me at: china@usc.edu Thanks