Title: Modern Miracles: Or, Uncle Frohike Saves the Day 
Author: the idiosyncratic stanwyck 
(theidiosyncraticstanw...@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.