From: "GuEsS? Midas" Date: Fri, 21 May 1999 20:11:52 EDT Subject: The Evening Star - fic Title: The Evening Star Author: GuEsS? Rating: G Classification: Story Archive: whatever, but let me know first Summary: How many ways are there to gaze at the stars? As many as there are stars themselves. Author's note: Sorry, this is what you get when boredom and lots and lots of free time fuse... But hey it's not that bad... right? ***************** To The Evening Star, - William Blake Thou Fair-haired Angel of the Evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown Put on, and smile upon our evening bed! (cont'd) ***************** It had been a long day. Of course, many of them were. Not that this contained, neatly-packaged bat out of hell sitting beside him had helped any. Admittedly, mutilated cattle can be a trying thing on one's patience; but she had the impressively depressing ability to singlehandedly turn any event into a living nightmare. Dana Scully was in a mood. His mind flicked over several weak substitutes for a quality comment to make, though never quite sure he would be heard over the mist of silence and the sputtering engine of yet another Ford Taurus, in yet another southern town, in yet another dead end situation. Nothing worth saying. So he just dove. And drove. And checked his watch. 11:40. Almost midnight in Nowhere, Nebraska. And drove. And drove. She shifted positions, every 5 minutes at most, uncomfortable in every imagineable state attainable by the human body. Finally she settled in a disgustingly out of character state, sideways along the seat with her legs curled up leaning left into the back of the beastly piece of furniture, head rested against the window. She sighed and craned her neck back, resting the top of her head against the glass, staring up into the sky. "At least it's a nice night." He jumped a little as she spoke, expecting anything but small talk from her at this point. "Yeah," he murmured, leaning forward over the steering wheel to gaze up out of the windshield. To his surprise, she was right. It was spectacular; a rural highway on a perfectly clear night appears much like a tapestry depiction, a fairy tale sketch where everything is more beautiful than life. He smiled weakly, "So it really is a good thing we're not in Washington." "I'm not sure; I know my bed's a lot more comfortable than this." "Since when do you have trouble sleeping in cars? Usually you're drooling on my shoulder by now." "Mmm, I'm too tired to sleep." A pause. "Hey Mulder?" He looked her way. "Stop for a second." "Why?" "Just stop. There's nobody else on this road. We're not going to make it back any time soon, so just stop for a minute." He pulled the car to a halt in the middle of the highway. "What?" something was about to happen; he could tell. She opened the door and got out. "Just want to stretch." She ventured a little ways out into the dry grass at the side of the road, gazing up into the midnight sky. After a moment's consideration, he followed to stand beside her, simply soaking in the ambrosial vision of a seemingly fictitious piece of artwork. She turned without speaking, pacing slowly back to the abused and dying Taurus. Swinging the door slowly open on its hinge, she braced herself on the floor of the vehicle and mounted onto the roof, where she perched as he watched in silent curiosity. She met his gaze for an instant, and then cast hers sights upward into the heavens, sitting in perfect still, minding that nothing should fall out of place in welkin. It was a scene fresh out of the mind of a watercolour artist. Extensive green fields made indigo by the moonlit darkness, conservative trees lining the narrow road here and there along the way, the steel gray car, tinted azure by night, a subtle horizon hiding behind an early morning mist, supporting a wickedly dark sky pierced a hundred thousand times, and one woman, alone in the world, thinking. A second later he was leaning on the car's bottom and hoisting himself up beside her, getting settled in a similar cross-legged position. As soon as his weight hit the thin roof, the convex frame became suddenly concave, sending both scurrying off to either side, sliding down the side and onto the pavement as the metal recovered its natural form. Scully didn't even bother trying to hide the smile which she could feel creeping up the corners of her expression. "I take it you've stopped swimming." He grinned and nodded curtly, dismissing the teasing attack. "You know how I love my Big Macs," he responded. "Yes, I do." Thought. "We could sit on the hood." "Go for it. Personally, I don't trust that machine." She rose to her feet. "You don't trust anything." She turned and extended a hand to help him up. "I can trust you, right?" he questioned, clasping onto her hand. "Some days," she answered and let him drop from halfway up onto the cement. He mocked deathly pain as she got settled on the hood of the car, leaning back against the windshield, surprisingly comfortable. Within seconds she was lost into the sky again with that same prophet look. He set down at her side and followed her gaze up into space, noticing after a minute that he had taken on the same countenance as her; and groped for something to say. She did it for him. "I used to know a lot of the constellations, but I can't remember very many now. There's the Canis Major over there," she pointed. "And Orion's right up here, pretty much above us," she gestured. "And Cassiopeia there... - and I know there's something over that way but I can't remember what it is." He smiled. "Uh, I know where the dipper is." She grinned quietly. "My great-aunt Cassidy knew everything there is to know about the stars, the constellations. She was always just fascinated by it. She's the one who taught me all this. I remember she had a small house out in the country, so when I was a kid we used to sit out on the deck and try to figure out where they all same from, or why they were there," she paused to glance at him. "She died when I was only 13, but that year we had some incredible moments. Mostly because I was getting old enough to be able to understand what we talked about, I think. That's when I started to ask why she was so interested in the sky. She always answered with the same response; that looking up into heaven was seeing so much more than anything we can watch here on our little planet. That, when you stare at a star, you're seeing even more than you may think, not just a burning ball of gas whose origin remains, in part, a mystery, or it's location and age uncertain. You're seeing back in time. Since most of these," she indicated with a sweeping hand. "Are million, billions of light years old, what we're looking at here is a reproduction of what was going on before the dinosaurs arrived. Before the first life cell, even. And then, consider that every different star comes from a different time, you perceive the whole night sky, and you're looking back in time at a thousand separate moments in history, one much greater than ours...." she stopped short. " Babbling. Sorry." "No," he smiled. "I just never considered it that way before. Of course, I've always loved it, too, but for other reasons. I thought, scientists think that the sun's having 9 planets is a relatively small amount. So if each of those stars has, say, 10 satelites, then that means that we're talking tens of billions of stars; that's an unimaginable amount..." "... and an absurd ratio for not one of them to have life?" she finished for him. "Yeah," he smirked. "I know, typical train of thought, but it's a reasonable argument." "Actually, I'm inclined to agree with you." "Really?" he picked his head up to look at her. She nodded, and they lay silent for a moment. Suddenly Scully's eyes brightened up. "Oh, did you see that?" "What?" "A new star! It wasn't there, and then all of a sudden it was!" "Are you sure?" "Yes! I witnessed the birth of a new star! Right there," she aimed a finger at one exceptionally brilliant speck. "This is amazing; it's uncommonly rare..." "Actually, you saw the replay of what happened millions of years ago. That one, the bright one?" She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. And I still saw it appear. That's worth something. It's equally rare." "So do you get a wish?" "What?" she wrinkled her nose at the suggestion. "You get a wish when you see a shooting star, and this is much more impressive, so something good has to happen. I think you get to name it." "Mulder, there's probably a thousand scientists world wide all scrambling to claim it; I don't stand much of a chance. Maybe for an uncommonly rare event, something uncommonly good will happen," she hoped out loud, immediately feeling stupid for saying it. He smiled affectionately. "Well, lucky you. What did you have in mind?" he added mock-seductively. "Hmm, you can never tell with these baby stars. Maybe it's not an outside event, but an internal revelation. Some sort of personal insight into something I missed before." He twisted his face in confusion. "Like what?" They both realized that sometime through the conversation they had both propped up on the elbows against the windshield, and were now very face to face. Very. She paused to contemplate how to answer. She found what she secretly wanted to say, and shortly thereafter surprised herself by actually saying it. "Like not letting the right moment pass," she whispered, never breaking his gaze. There was a momentary lapse of time as she abandoned concentration on what was happening, lost in a sensation. Her recovery came as her face moved away from his. She smiled sheepishly. "Actually, I didn't see a new star. That's the North Star." He closed his eyes in acknowledgement and rested his forehead on her right shoulder, pushing her onto her back as she laughed lightly. It had been a long day; but it had a good ending. THE END ==== Till next time, remember; Life would be better... if it was hockey! Peace, love, and bullet-proof marshmallows! - Lady Midas When the touch isn't golden, the ambition always is!