Premise:  Someone very cute is very, very sick.  While flat on
his back recuperating, he has time to mull a few things over.

Title:       Bad Case of The Bug 1/1
Author:      Sue
Rating:      G
Disclaimer:  All X-Files characters are property
             of C. Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX.
             No infringement intended.


Bad Case Of The Bug


I tried to ignore how I was starting to feel the other
day, when, while at my computer, I started feeling
real, real queasy.  What a trip...  Thought it was due
to eating Frohike's three-day old chili, (Hey, I've
eaten the stuff when it was green before) and if I just
inured myself to the chills, the aches, the pains and
overall feeling of total put-me-out-of-my-misery malaise,
whatever this thing is will go away...

Dream on!  Ha-ha--but *so* not funny.  Yeah, this time
the joke, or should I say, the dose's is on me.  I've got
the bug, man, and I don't mean Y2K.  This is viral
infection with a vengeance.  Like payback for thumbing
my nose at getting a flu shot all those times.  Just
count me in with the rest of the plague victims.
According to CNN, D.C.'s been hit just as hard as the
rest of the country.  I, Ringo Langly, stand, well not
right now, I'm dyin', and be counted.

It wasn't until I was lying flat on my back, and told the
guys I was seein' yellow, that they hauled my sorry
keister up from the bed, loaded me into the van and booked
to Georgetown Medical asap.  At Emergency, after triage
got a good look at me...and I guess I wasn't looking the
best I've ever looked, since several other nurses were
called over to check me out, for their joint opinions,
I became theirs.

No big surprise.  I was admitted, and am presently resting
uncomfortably here in Room, uh...wait, Frohike just said
what it was a few minutes ago, when Byers asked.  They
think I'm sleepin', but I'm fakin', 'cause I just need
to rest.  Last night was rough with all the hacking--
of the coughing variety--and I HATE IV's.  Didn't get
much sleep as a result.  Oh, yeah, Room ten-thirteen.
I'm not superstitious, just paranoid, but I wished they'd
have had another room to stick me in.  I sense bad karma
from that number.  But, no such luck.  The facility's
packed-out with us flu sickees.

All I can say is I better be all well, a week from now,
man.  The cruise is comin' up with Scully's cousin, and
I'm goin', no matter what.  Runny nose, watery eyes,
fever--the feeling of feeling like death warmed over--
regardless.  Even dehydration won't stop me!

The flu bug hasn't been engineered yet that can keep me
from that gorgeous babe, and some well-deserved fun in
the sun.  Now, if I can just survive the staff's efforts
to get me well, I might have a fighting chance.

This is all your fault, Mulder, for gettin' it first, an'
shootin' it to me.  Maybe I'll just return the favor,
and give you an electronic one...

End