From: Kristen Kilar Date: Fri, 14 Jun 2002 13:18:17 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Just Another Night In The CyberCafe by Kristen Kilar Source: direct TITLE: Just Another Night In The CyberCafe AUTHOR: Kristen Kilar KEYWORDS: Post-Ep angst. (I'll miss you guys 4-ever!) SPOILERS: Jump the Shark SUMMARY: How did they break the news about TLG to Mulder? And how did he take it? DISCLAIMER: Mulder, the Gunmen, Yves and Jimmy don't belong to me.Nobody else makes an appearance. However, the D&D freaks, Net geeks,hackers, fanboys, and Mary DO belong to me, and CC can't get 'em! TXF characters, etc., belong to Chris Carter and 1013. If I owned them, I'd be getting a backrub from Mulder and Langly would be working his magic on my computer. Not happening. ARCHIVE: Gossamer, etc. Let me know so I can drop by and show off. FEEDBACK: Please, I'm desperate. It's just a little piece, but tell me what you think, even if you're completely apathetic. Mail to: chickadee_from_3@yahoo.com AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, look. I hate you, Chris. You gave baby William up for adoption to these dumb Van de Kamp people, you killed off my three favorite computer geeks, and you left us with a date and a promise that none of the movies will be mytharc! Anyway...I wrote half of this at home and the other half in the car, so I'm sorry if it doesn't make much sense. Why don't you write and FLAME me? I don't mind. Also: I didn't see 'Jump the Shark', so I tried to avoid details. If I got something majorly wrong, just tell me. --Just Another Night In The CyberCafe-- He's a regular at the CyberCafe where I work. He comes late at night, when only the Net geeks and hackers and fanboys and D&D freaks are here. That's my shift. (I still don't really understand why they gave me this shift. A female serving these guys? Just inviting trouble. Although now they know that any innuendo slung at me gets them saliva in their Cokes.) He takes a compute console near the door and orders a large hot chocolate. I add a large dollop of whipped cream and a generous handful of chocolate sprinkles, plus a maraschino cherry, of course. He logs on to a little-used message board that seems to have only two or three members, including him. Today's no different. He smiles at me in greeting and sits at a console. But when I bring him his hot chocolate, I find him staring at the glowing screen in shock. "Oh no," he mumbles. "Oh, guys..." I look at the screen and the three newpaper clippings scanned onto the site. They're obituaries. "Melvin James Frohike...Vietnam vet...journalist, 'The Lone Gunman'...is survived by ex-wife Jennifer MacPherson...will be buried in Arlington Memorial..." "John Fitzgerald Byers...former FCC agent...journalist, 'The Lone Gunman'...is survived by brother Abram Lincoln Byers...will be buried in Arlington Memorial..." "Richard Davis Langly...born Johannasburg, Minnesota...journalist, 'The Lone Gunman'...is survived by sister Elsie Anna Langly... Dungeons and Dragons master...computer programmer...computer expert...will be buried in Arlington Memorial..." "Oh no," he keeps murmuring. "Oh no, guys..." "Friends of yours?" I ask sympathetically. "Close friends," he whispers brokenly. "Very close." He taps in a reply. No long, complicated message, just a few heartfelt questions. TO: ALL FROM: Exiled (SPOOKY1) How? When? Why? Is everybody else safe? What happened? Who's breaking the news to the Internet guys? How are Yves and Jimmy taking it? Give my love to everybody, The Exiled One He posts it and buries his head in his hands, mumbling softly, "I can't believe it...why? Why?" I can't help him with that, so I just put my arm around him and let him grieve. But he's not really the type to cry for long in public. He straightens up and whispers brokenly, "Thank you, Mary." "I didn't do anything." "No. Thank you for caring." He stands up abruptly, logging off the message board with a few quick key strokes. "I should go. Thank you...for everything." And he's gone for the night. He didn't drink his hot chocolate, I note. Well, no sense wasting it. I take a sip and get wipped cream on my nose for the effort. "Hey, Mary," a D&D geek calls. "Wanna play a game?" "Sure," I say and it's just another night in the CyberCafe. --End-- So? Like it, love it, hate it, couldn't care less either way? Let me know. My address is written TWICE at the top and I'll write it again here. Forever Mulder's, Kristen Kilar The Weird One Queen of the UnSane <>