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.

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