Disclaimer: The characters contained in this story are the creative property of 1013 Productions, FOX Broadcasting, and News Corp and are used without permission.
Title: Pardon the Interruption
Summary: Timing is everything
The three Gunmen wearily trudged into the warehouse, disappointment at another failed mission weighing heavily upon them.
Frohike reset the locks on the front door, making a mental note to check them again when he made his final sweep through the warehouse before going to bed. "The next time we get a lead on the Bush twins crashing a fraternity party could someone at least check the White House schedule to see if they're actually in town?"
Langly had made his way to the computers to see if any alerts had been logged while they were out. "You coulda done that."
"My job is to get the video equipment together and in the van."
"Well, in case you forgot, mine is prepping the van." Finding nothing of interest having occurred over the last two hours, Langly logged off the network. "Logistics let us down."
Byers winced at the accusation; he had thought his source credible but acknowledged that he would have to double-check any further information coming from that direction in the future. "We got some decent footage of underage drinking that might be salvageable."
"Yeah, especially if mommy and daddy turn out to be among the wealthy and powerful. Maybe." Langly raised his arms, trying to stretch out the kinks in his back from having to hide in the hedges for over an hour. "I'm beat. I'm going to bed."
Byers and Frohike thought it a good idea to call it a night as well. Leaving their baggage for unpacking in the morning, they followed Langly up to the second level.
Jimmy met them at the top of the staircase. His hair was spiked with dampness and he had a towel knotted around his waist, giving the appearance that he had just gotten out of the shower. "Guys? You're home?" He sounded more anxious than pleased to see them. "You said you'd be gone till morning."
"Plans changed." Langly ducked underneath Jimmy's outstretched arms and took a step towards the bedrooms. His path was obstructed again by Jimmy's naked torso, so Langly side-stepped to the right. Jimmy's blocking drills from his football-playing days took over as the two continued the zigzag movements into the hallway.
Frohike and Byers glanced at each other, puzzled over the dance pattern performing in front of them. Just as both were about to ask what the hell was going on, a female voice was heard.
The voice that called out from the far end of the hallway was unmistakably familiar to the three Gunmen, though it usually took form in a caustic or scolding tone. It was certainly out of place in the sleeping quarters of their warehouse, wet dreams not withstanding.
"Jimmy, I'm damp and nearly naked. Is there anything you care to do about that?"
A slim form rounded the corner from an adjacent hallway and then quickly retreated. The three glimpsed - in varying degrees - long dark hair, a hip that bore no tan line, and a white bath towel that was regrettably too large. The scamper of running footsteps was followed by a slam of a door. The form had made a dash for the bathroom, the only such room down that wing that had a door.
Byers cleared his throat and looked to Jimmy for an explanation.
"Was that Yves?" Langly's voice was somewhat louder than usual, as if he wanted to be sure that the person in the bathroom heard him.
"That sure looked like Yves," Frohike softly mused. When three sets of eyes slowly turned towards him, seeking some sort of explanation for the remark, he embarrassingly explained, "I mean, the hair."
Byers found his voice. "Maybe we should go and get a pizza and come back in about an hour, okay?" When Langly wouldn't take the hint, he grabbed the back of Langly's t-shirt to pull him towards the stairs. He also guided Frohike with a hand to his back down to the lower level for good measure; Byers hoped that he could get the two out of the warehouse before any more comments could be made or, at the very least, before they all fell into a giggling heap on the floor.
Frohike lingered for a bit at the closed front door before joining the others in the alleyway. "I gotta have a long talk with that boy."
Byers, amused by the predictable overprotective attitude, patted the shoulder of the other man. "I think he's gotten down the birds and the bees' thing by now."
"No, that's not it. I'm thinking I could use some new pointers."
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