From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 13 Aug 2002 05:49:02 -0000
Subject: A White Whale Mingled With Fire (1,2) by Seulement Moi
Source: direct

Reply To: SeulementMoi101@hotmail.com


TITLE: A White Whale Mingled with Fire (1,2)
AUTHOR: Seulement Moi
FEEDBACK: Seulementmoi101@hotmail.com
CLASSIFICATION: Pre-XF, Scully POV
SPOILERS: Even if this is set before the X-Files, some stuff for
episodes like Beyond the Sea, Fire, Small Potatoes and One Breath
are hidden in there. 

*-*-*
Summer 1982
*-*-*

"Honey?" A soft knock on the door.

Maybe if I stay really quiet, she'll go away. What am I saying? 
Mother would never turn away from a closed door. And specially 
knowing that I am everything but asleep.

"Dana, are you ok?" The knob turns and the dark-haired woman enters
the room. "Dana..."

"I'm fine, Mom", I draw back a sob and wipe my nose with my sleeve.
I know I shouldn't do that, but I know Mom won't say anything about
it. That's not the important issue here. 

Her face is unchanged. You can never fool a mother, not ever. And
sometimes that so-called sixth sense can be very annoying. Did 
mothers *had* to know everything all the time? 

"Locking yourself in your room for hours is being fine?" She says 
firmly, but still, it's not harsh. Only my mother could do such a 
thing.

I look down and point my hand to the door. "Close the door, I don't
want Bill to march in here right now".

Mother makes a look. She knows Bill and I aren't the best of friends
to each other, but she is not too happy to contribute to the anti-
sibling attitude. 

"It's not that. If he finds out, he'll kick his a...butt". My mother
smiles and sits beside me on the bed, making no attempt to remove the
cushion I so dearly hold on to. 

"Marcus?" 

I nod, knowing too well she knows more than she lets on. 

"Maybe I *should* tell Bill about it..." I couldn't help but smile
at the thought. Marcus on the ground, his nose bleeding...

Mom knows I'm avoiding the subject, but she doesn't let herself be
detered of the topic at hand. "What happened, Dana?"

I shake my head.

"You know it's not worth it". She says.

"Yeah, I know that. And he seems to feel the same way about our
relationship".

My mother's eyebrows go up now. Well, maybe she does *not* know 
everything, after all.

"Well, he made his decision, after 2 long years of a relationship 
with me, that he prefered a freshman brunette that he met last 
month."

My mother didn't seem surprised at all. "Then he's a jerk". 

I look up to her, in shock. "Mom?"

She smiles. "If he can't tell gold from silver even when it's right
under his nose, then he's simply a jerk".

I can't help but smile. My mother is seriously biased, but it didn't
matter, I appreciated the love that conjured that sentence. I knew
her heart broke along with mine all the time.

"I'm fine, Mom, really". I tried to reassure her. But she knows 
better. And she knows not to push it any further.

"So, it wasn't much of a loss, was it?" She says.

I smile, wiping the angry tears that are still rolling down my cheek.

"No, I guess not". 

She stands and leans closer, holding me tight. "Do you want me to 
bring some food later?"

"No...I'll be there. Give me a minute".

She smiles and walks out of my room. Dad is coming tonight. He's been
gone for two months and I'm not going to miss dinner over a tantrum
for a worthless man. 

Another knock on the door. "Hey, D?"  Charlie.

"Kid, not now..." Of all my siblings, I must say Charlie is my 
favorite. I know it's not a fair thing to say, but he's just the 
sweetest thing. Bill has always been *too* fond of bothering me 
and Missy, well, you can even say we are opposites. She wears the
dresses, I get the jeans. I recieve guns and she gets dolls. Missy 
listens to Mom and I listen to Ahab. 

"D, I gotta show you something, it'll just take a minute..." He
swings the door open, guitar in hand. 

He stares at me. He can clearly see that I've been crying, but he 
knows he mustn't ask. Not at this moment, anyway. That's another
thing about Charlie, he's prudent.

"What is it, kid?" Even when he is a few months older than me, he
finds no insult in me calling him a kid.

"I finished the song." His smile spreads across his face. He sits
by me and positions his fingers on the strings. The soft melody
fills my bedroom. I stare at him, his closed eyes giving away the
satisfaction of a completed work.

"What do you think?", he says when he strikes the last chord.

"Wow, Charlie, it's amazing!" I say honestly.

"I'm on the band." He smiles.

He's been rehearsing the last year non-stop so he could be admitted
at the best band of his school. I hug him tightly.

"I play the guitar, John's got the bass, Michael's in percusions and 
April will sing the lyrics", he says.

"I'm so proud of you". I tell him and he smiles.

He stares at me, looking intently at the traces of tears in my face.
"He'll regret it". He says simply.

I nod to him, smiling. Thankyou, Charlie.

He walks out, leaving my heart feeling a bit less heavy.

*-*-*

Dad arrived home at 10 o'clock, just as he had promised. Mom was 
delighted and the house grew more alive. Dad would do that. Even
when no one expressed their longing for Dad, except for Mom, we
all knew that the house was truly complete when he was home.  

I had missed Ahab terribly. He hadn't been able to come to my High 
School prom, but he had promised to make it up to me. He always told 
me I would have to be wed on a ship, so he could be there on that 
day. I know he was as sad as me about missing my prom, so I tried 
not to talk about it, but he knew. Dad always knew me, so I wasn't 
surprised when Mom came into the house, leaving him in the porch.

"Daddy wants you", she said to me and I joined him on the bench 
outside the house.

"Hello, Starbuck", he said, staring at the horizon. The cloudless 
sky decorated with millions of flickering stars. 

I stare at him, the darkness of the night masking half his face. I
wait for him to speak, cause I don't know what to tell him.

"Now what, my girl?"

I'm not sure what he means, but I take the less dangerous sense. 
"Well, Dad, Medical School". I smile. I know he approves. I know
I make him proud.

He smiles, but his expression tells me that he wants to talk about
Marcus.

"Ahab, I spoke with Mom and she's right. He ain't worth it". I look
at my hands. What would my dad think of me? A looser just dumped me.
What did that make me?

His gaze is still mesmerized by the black skyline. "I wonder if he
realized that he just lost the most precious thing he'll ever have
in his life". He says softly, almost to himself.

I look at him, but he doesn't look back. He's lost in his reverie.
"When I met your mother, I just knew. Her eyes, her determination
and strength. Her will and love. How could you miss that when it
was so obvious? I was lucky to be good enough for her to take me".

He smiles at the memory. I wish Mom were here to hear this, but I
know this moment with Ahab is just for me and I'm the one who needs
to listen to it.

"You know, my Scully women are exceptional. Each on their own way.
Each having something to take my breath away."

He stands, walking towards the front garden, getting a better view
of God's scenery. I follow closely, not wanting to miss any of the
words he has to say.

"You, Starbuck, you aren't an ordinary woman. I knew it from the 
moment your eyes opened to this world. You were different. You 
would change lives."

I look up at my father. My savior. I wonder what Freud would say if
he knew my Oedipus complex never wore off. 

"If Marcus didn't see all that, then I'm sorry for him. He's doomed
for life. He'll never know better."

He turns to me and I smile at him. "What if I don't know better?"

He hugs me tightly against him, pulling off after a while. He 
stares at the stars once more and then back at me, as he starts 
to the house.

He speaks again, startling me a little, forgetting that my question 
had been left unanswered. "My baby girl, doesn't matter what you do, 
you'll change lives. Just by being born, you changed mine".

He smiles and goes inside the house. My tears escape my eyes. But I
don't cry out of sorrow anymore. I cry of joy for the woman I will
be. And I cry to keep the courage so I can be what my Dad thinks I 
am. To grow to the woman he has so much faith in. 

I'll make you proud. I'll catch the white whale for you, Ahab.

*-*-*
End Part 1

TITLE: A White Whale Mingled with Fire (2,2)
AUTHOR: Seulement Moi

*-*-*
London, 1982
*-*-*

"So, FBI, huh?"

I couldn't tell what the infliction in his voice really meant. He 
was either too amazed by my decision of joining the Bureau, or he
was simply repeating it out loud so it became real. He was very 
aware of my lack of faith towards the institution.

"Yeah" I say simply.

Jordan had been a great friend to me. He understood my dry humor,
comprehended that my past was not an issue to be discussed and 
respected my lack of excitement at going back to the States. 

And to my parents'. 

The only thing keeping me going was the prospect of finally doing
what I had longed to do since I was a kid: find my sister. 

Fight the invisible monsters who took her and understand for once
why everyone chose to keep quiet when all I wanted to do was howler.

"Hey, look..." Jordan's voice snaps me out of my reverie.

"Wha...?" I stop short when I see her walking towards her car in 
the parking lot, two rows ahead of mine.

Jordon looks at her, disgusted.

How can any sane man look at a beautiful woman and feel repulsion
towards her? Sometimes, I just thought I was a child with her. She
was the center of my infatuation, I was drawn by an indescriptable 
passion that died shortly after I found out what she really was.

Fire. 

Phoebe Green was fire, burning everything that came her way. 

And the funny thing about fire is that it doesn't matter how 
destructive it can be, it would still hold you mesmerized,  
wondering just how such a incredible thing can muster such power.

That's just what I felt right now. I so wanted to extinguish her so
she would stop her devastation, but I still felt compelled to stare 
at her. I knew exactly what look she'll have on her face if she 
happened to look my way. 

Pride. Utter pride. One more prey to her collection of men.

I didn't know what hurt me more: the idea of losing her or the fact
that she had stepped over my heart with my permission to do so.

"I bet you five dollars that she will come this way", Jordan said to
me, his gaze still fixed on the brunette.

Obviously, we were far from her tracks, but Phoebe loved detours. 
She always took shorcuts to torture her poor victims. A natural.
Damn. She was coming our way.

"Jordan, I'll give you ten if you send her away."

He grinned mischieviously at me, shaking his head 'no'.

He wasn't such a good friend, after all. I frowned at him and 
prepared for the silent battle I was about to engage with this 
woman.

"Hey, Sherlock."

"Hi."

She's doing it again. She is winking her eye, posing seductively to
me, in her own, devilish manner. Her hair is blown by the soft 
breeze, but she remains perfect...

Ok, I must remember I *hate* this woman.

"So, last day..." She smiles briefly, sensing at last that I'm not
too pleased to see her.

"Yeah..." 

Silence settles between us, and so it begins...

"Mulder, about us..." She starts, shifting her weight to her other 
leg.

"No, Phoebe---just, don't..." I stammer.

Her eyes lock with mine. If I didn't know better, I would truly 
believe her gaze showed a flicker of remorse. 

But I did know better. 

"Phoebe, you got over it. I'll get over it. It'll all be fine."

She smiles wickedly. Yes, Phoebe, I still haven't gotten over you.
It's just been two weeks and three days, but who's counting? 

She leans over to me and kisses me on the lips. Jordan looks around
and pretends to be busy with the lugagge next to him. I can't do this
knowing that this woman doesn't love me anymore. I pull away from her
and her eyes fly open. Her power of seduction hasn't worked and she 
looks disappointed.

She clears her throat as she realizes I'm not muttering an apology,
and she won't admit *she* kissed *me*, so there's nothing more to
say. The awkward moment #5627 makes an appearance.

"Well, I just thought I'll come by and wish you farewell."

I stare at her. For a moment, she seems nice. Even innocent. 

"Thankyou." Is all I can say. 

She gazes at me one more time, but I won't fall for her spell. 
"Maybe I'll look you up if I'm ever in America." She says and I
nod, not sure if I really want her to. She smiles faintly and 
walks away.

Jordan stares at me, trying to see how many of my brain cells have
been killed after this encounter.

"I'm fine, Jordan." 

His lips manage a thin line and I know that I don't look so good. 
Not even Jordan would push it when he knew I was really hurt.

"She isn't worth it, man", he says after a while.

I nod to him, watching Phoebe's car drive away. 

"One day, you'll find a girl who would mean everything to you. Not
just a fierce, passion-slash-infatuation, but a real life 
commitment, a girl that would never quit on you..."

I nod, not knowing what to say. Jordan would soon be married to his
high school sweetheart, so what could you tell a man in love? That
you weren't able to understand the feeling because you had never 
had it?

"...and when she comes, you won't be afraid. Because you would
know that you will always count on her. No matter what. A woman
that will love you as much as you adore her. And that, my friend, 
is all you need. Life's sweetest blessing."

My eyes fall on the scenery before me. Everyone seems to be 
enjoying this day. They're getting ready to leave, happy. 
My dearest friend, the hopeless romantic, would part to Germany 
the next day. With the love of his life. As for me...I was 
returning to my parents'. I was alone again.

I turn to him, realizing that he has stopped talking. He smiles at
me. "You think you won't have it, Mulder, but it's going to hit you
so hard you won't even realize it. But it won't hurt. No more fire."

I smile at him. He knows my fear for fire came long before Phoebe
Green. Of course, she contributed to it: she was the gasoline.

But, you know? I want fire.

The fire that would hold me mesmerized, but would not burn.

A fire that would keep me alive and consume my soul and heart. A
fire that would light up my smile. One that would keep me guided.

And sane.

I wanted fire. But the kind of fire that would never burn at all.

*-*-*
End Part 2


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