Date: Mon, 9 Jun 1997 21:24:25 -0400 (EDT) From: Jelyna@rocket.com Subject: Status Quo by Jelyna Feedback ... need ... feedback ... :-) It's always appreciated, anyway. Disclaimer: Not mine. Darn. Rating: G Classification: S Summary: Sixteen-year-old Dana Scully gets some advice from a familiar source. *** Status Quo by Jelyna SLAM!! The door made a satisfying sound behind Dana, but she was in no mood to hear her father cursing behind it. Car keys clenched in her hand, she threw herself into the car and backed out of the driveway fast enough to send the pigeons in the grass flying in all directions. California. He'd been transferred to *California*. Just when she'd finished her sophomore year and gotten some seniority at school, she was going to have to start over. Could the Navy have found any place farther away from Norfolk?? She had no idea where she was going. She just hit the interstate and started driving, stereo blaring, speedometer needle reaching dangerous levels. The June heat made the backs of her legs stick to the vinyl seats, and the hair not stuck to her neck by sweat flew in all different directions when she rolled the window down. Why couldn't her parents have gotten a car with air conditioning? Finally, she spotted a small gas station on one of the exits, and pulled off to grab a Coke. She was the only one in the parking lot, which comforted her. After buying the soda, she simply sat on the back of the car and allowed the angry tears to flow down her face. "Dana?" She looked up, startled. An older man was standing next to the car -- where had he come from? And how did he know her name? "Who are you?" she demanded. "My name is Lloyd," he said, extending his hand. Dana looked at him suspiciously. "How did you know my name?" He smiled, withdrew his hand, and hopped up on the car next to her. "I just know..." Her first reaction was to shove him off the car and drive off -- he could be a lunatic just waiting to kill me, or worse, she thought. But, at that moment, she met his eyes, and some irrational voice in the back of her head told her to wait. "Dana...I can see that you're having a rough time of it right now." "Yeah ... my dad..." "I know -- California is a long way from Virginia, isn't it?" Once again, the skeptical part of her mind screamed "How does he know??" But, she remained silent, and just looked at him. Something strange was going on, and the only way to find out what was to play along. "Dana, I think there is someone you need to talk to ... do you trust me?" "No...why should I?" Lloyd laughed. "Good girl." "Who *are* you?" "I am... a messenger, if you like. A middle man, to get from point A to point B." "Where to where? If this is point A, where is point B?" "Close your eyes for a second..." Involuntarily, as if she was being controlled, she did, and the sounds around her began to change. Somehow, before she opened her eyes, she knew that the sleepy gas station had disappeared. When Lloyd finally tapped her on the shoulder, she opened them and saw that, while she was still sitting on her car, the streets that faced her were in... "Washington DC??" "Yes ... that's the Mall right in front of you." "No kidding... I've been there. I mean here. What.... did you drug me? Put something in my Coke? What is going on here?" "I didn't drug you, Dana. Look over there on the park bench." Dana followed his gesture to a man in a business suit, slumped on the bench nursing a Coke, just like she was still doing. "What about him?" Her attention, though, was caught by the strange cars surrounding them. "Wait a minute ... where am I??..." Lloyd hopped down from the car and opened a nearby newspaper machine. "Here, read the date..." She took the paper. "April 6... 1997????" "You're seventeen years in the future right now, Dana." She was dreaming. That was it. She'd fallen asleep in the sun, and was now having a really strange dream. Nothing else could explain it. "Okay ... can I ask how I got into 1997?" "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Probably not," she conceded. "Now, what's with that guy you pointed out to me?" "You need to talk to him." "Why?" "Because you both need it. Go on..." He nudged her off the car. "I'll wait here for you." Dana shook her head, suddenly feeling a chill from the April wind -- she was still dressed for the Virginia summer, in cutoffs and an old T-shirt. She looked across the street at the man in question. He was cute, actually ... probably in his 30's, with dark hair and features that her friend Kevin would refer to as "vaguely Jewish." The deep-set frown, though, marred his good looks; slowly, Dana began to feel sorry for him. Someone who looked so unhappy must be in real trouble. It wouldn't hurt to just talk to him. She made her way across the street and sat on the bench. "Hi," she said shyly. He looked up, startled at the voice. "Hi..." Dana found herself tongue tied. What was she supposed to say? "You look like you need someone to talk to." Stupid, Dana, she immediately berated herself. That sounds really dumb. A humorless grin spread across his face. "Trust me, you don't want to hear it." "Try me," she said boldly. "I know you don't know me, but... I can listen pretty well." Suddenly she found herself the object of intense scrutiny, which made her nervous. The look on his face was odd, as if he recognized some part of her, a part that she didn't know about. "My life is coming apart at the seams," he finally said softly. She nodded. "So is mine," she muttered. *** Another grin appeared, this one with more humor. "I don't mean to offend you, but you don't look old enough to have your life coming apart ... you probably don't even have your life put together yet." "I'm sixteen," she said defensively. "And the only life I've known for four years is gone." "Where'd it go?" "My dad's been transferred to California." Why were they talking about her? But, it did feel good to tell someone her troubles. "There are worse fates than moving to California." "Yeah, I know ... but I like it here ... there..." she trailed off. "We never get to settle down anywhere." "Settling down is highly overrated. It can be very boring to stay in the same situation." "But I'm so bad at making new friends." Dana blushed as she realized how whiny she sounded. "Okay, I can sympathize with that one." A shadow of a frown once again crossed his face. "What's wrong?" she asked softly. "Well..." He was silent for a moment. "My friend -- my best friend, in some ways my only friend -- may not be around for very much longer." "Why not?" "She's... sick. Cancer." Dana winced. "I'm sorry." Cancer was an ugly word. Kevin's mother had died of it that past March, and Dana remembered long school days; passing comforting notes in study hall, providing notes and homework for missed classes so that he could help his father get the younger kids to school on time. What was going to happen to Kevin when she left? No one else quite knew what to say to him about his mother ... the thought depressed her once again. She shifted focus back to the man sitting next to her. "How is she doing?" "That's the problem-- I don't know. She won't tell me. She's determined to do this by herself..." "She's scared. Scared of what her weakness will do to you." Dana had no way of knowing this ... yet it sounded like the truth. "She has no idea how many times she's been my strength. I'd like the opportunity to return the favor." "But you are, I'd bet. Just being there is enough." He blinked. That wasn't something he'd thought of yet. "I don't know..." "Well, look at it this way. You're here, and you're not going anywhere, right? She knows where you are if she needs you. Maybe she doesn't need anything different from you right now." "And maybe she's just scared of changing the status quo." "The status quo can be comforting, especially when you're afraid of having it ripped from under your feet." "Kind of like you?" he challenged lightly. "You're afraid of changing your status quo..." Dana looked away. He was right ... she just hadn't thought of it that way. "I think," she said slowly, "that my situation is very different." "Why is it different? You're both looking at a change for survival." "Survival? How so?" "Well, in your case, you don't have a choice -- you're sixteen, you have to go where your parents tell you. Unless you want to spend the next two or three years completely miserable, you have to adapt for survival." "That's true," she admitted grudgingly. "What about your friend?" "She ... she keeps everything to herself because she thinks she needs to protect me. But, the way I see it, she needs to let it out, or the stress will kill her before the cancer does." "But, what do you want from her? I know I would normally rather die than admit I'm scared of something. If you know she's scared, she probably knows you know. Does it really need to be said?" "I think it does." "But what would it change, if you already know it?" "It would change ... everything." "But, do you want everything to change?" He favored her with an ironic grin. "Sometimes, change is necessary for survival." She found herself matching his grin when a tap on the shoulder interrupted her. "Time to go," Lloyd told her. Dana shook her head to clear it. Yes, she was still in this weird future dream ... nice of her subconscious, though, to create an attractive man to help her out. "Good luck..." her companion told her. He stared for a minute longer than she expected, again with that intensely familiar gaze. "You never did tell me your name." "Oh, it's Dana," she said casually. Lloyd turned her towards the car again, but not before she saw the narrowed, suspicious gaze directed at her. "He's... interesting," she told Lloyd. "I know. I thought you might enjoy talking to him." As she sat down on the back of the car again, an interpretation for her companion's scrutiny popped into her head. "Hey, does he know..." Before she could finish the sentence, her eyelids dropped and the sounds of Washington DC vanished from her hearing. She felt the Virginia sun once again beating on her bare legs, and the heat of the metal under her burned through her shorts. "What a strange dream..." she said aloud, blinking in the sunlight. She must have been sitting there longer than she thought, to fall asleep like that. The dream images were already fading from her mind's eye, but the conversation stuck with her. For her own survival ... yes, she'd survive in California, because she had to. Who knows, she thought with a smile, looking down at her quickly reddening skin -- maybe I'll get a tan for once in my life. There were worse fates than moving to California.