Title: Dusk the Day Author: Squirrel Category: Angst, but fluffy anyway. Post-col. MSR Summary: Lean closer gentle readers and listen carefully: I have a story to tell. Someday in the future when hulking shadows cover the sky and a thick fog obscures the stars there will be a general. And she too will be a spinner of tales, of truths and half-truths, of memory and make-believe. Feedback: Of course. Feedback makes my world a brighter place. Winged_squirrel@my-deja.com Disclaimer: Not mine, CC's, we all know the deal. Distribution: Please ask first. Thank you. Author's notes at end. "The traces of the storyteller cling to the story the way the handprints of the potter cling to the clay vessel." - Walter Benjamin (translated by H. Zohn), from Illuminations Dusk the Day It's how all fairytales began. "Back, when the sky was blue and the stars hung in the night sky..." Regardless of how it ended, the story would always be followed by the kids running outside and looking up hopefully. But the same sky stared down. A sky the color of waves in a storm- dark gray- almost as if the sky was mourning with the rest of the world. And one child looked wistfully at the storyteller and asked, "Was there a blue sky, really? Or is it just make-believe?" "It's real of course. And they say one day the sun will shine again." "When I'm older I'll find the sun," another boy said stridently, the confidence of the very young reflected in his voice. "Will you, eh?" said the storyteller, a smile in her voice. "Make sure to bring some light to me." And all the children nodded solemnly, ready to travel to the ends of the world for their favorite grown-up. If Dana wanted the sun she would get it. As they grew older the kids forgot about fairytales. Instead they learned the lore of guns and fighting, the arts of survival. What difference did the color of the sky make? Grey, blue, black, death still ran like a river unchecked. Who cared about the stars when there were wars to be won? "So cold," Scully murmured as a chilly Summer wind blew over them. She huddled closer to her soldiers who sat listlessly waiting. "Time?" asked one. Scully peered into the darkness, measuring the shades of gray. "Five, I would say." "Hey Dana, do you remember when you used to tell us those stories about the kings and queens? Can you tell us one now?" asked James, one of the younger soldiers. A general titter went through the group. Scully smiled gently at the embarrassed soldier. "I have a better idea. Why don't you all tell me what you're fighting for." "You mean like our end dream?" called out a soldier in the back. "Exactly." James stuttered for a moment before replying, "A girl. I want a girl who can cook. And then I want a daughter and a boat." Once again laughter erupted and James, if possible, turned a darker shade of red. Another general agreed, "I want that too. But, it should be a blonde, I like blondes." Suddenly the clearing was alive with noise and chatter, a stark contrast to the nervous silence of earlier. People were shouting, eagerly trying to outdo each other: "I want to fly in an airplane!" "Visit the moon!" "See the ocean." "Find my parents." "Dana, what's your dream?" asked one. She didn't raise her voice, but when she started speaking everyone was immediately silent. "Well, I'm not sure. There are days I'd like to relive, even though I know that's not possible." "Tell us Dana, what was it like Before?" asked James. "All right. A long time ago, when I was young, which I'm sure you can imagine, was a very long time ago-" "Is it a story?" probed James. "Yes, I suppose so." "Then start it like one..please?" She nodded, "A long time ago, back when the skies were blue and stars hung in the sky like diamonds on the cheek of the night there were two partners, a man and a woman. Like now, it was Summer, maybe it was even this day or month. But, no sands swept the deserts, no aliens roamed the lands, at least not yet." She knew which syllables to accent and which to let fall. She held the soldiers captive with her crisp voice and as she spoke her words seemed to stay with them, dancing in the day's shadows. "It was a beautiful day. Mulder, the man, suggested they go out in a boat. Which is more surprising than you might think, because he hated sailing. He got seasick after one hoist of the main sail or the sight of one perfect, curling wave. But, he went anyway. Within minutes he was under deck, lying on a cot, the color of grass. Meanwhile, the woman watched the ocean," she waited a beat. "What a fierce nobility there is to the ocean. For every one of its pure, calm days there is a day marked by turbulence. Usually it's in between and that's how it was on that day. The waves rolled in, spraying the sides of the boat with their white foam and all the while the sun beamed down. " She paused and closed her eyes as she remembered the wind whipping her hair against her face in knots and the sound of Mulder moaning loudly in the cabin. Sculleeeeee. The guilty expression on his face when she rushed down, his "I was just checking to make sure you were paying attention". The grin he gave her after his comment that made her forgive him. The way one of his too-large hands gripped hers and steered her to him. When she opened her eyes again she could make out the vague outlines of dozens of soldiers eagerly waiting through the swirling mists. "And..." prompted James. "And that was it. It was a beautiful day." A ripple of disappointment went through the soldiers. "That's it?" demanded one incredulously, "What about an ending?" "But, you see Greg that story is still continuing. It hasn't ended. Not yet." They turned from her then to listen to another general's story, one with a happy ending. She wasn't forgotten. But they knew her by then and could sense when to retreat. "It's all wind-management," she had told him, laughing easily as he clumsily handled the sails. "I think I'm going to be sick," he whined as a large wave picked them up. "You already were. Now grab that line." "Ugh. I can't believe you talked me into this." "It was your idea, remember?" "You sure?" he asked, leaning in closer. "Yup." "Guess I must be mistaken then," he said as he pressed his lips onto hers. He dragged her down to the cabin, still keeping one hand tangled in her hair. "See how much nicer it is down here Scully?" he whispered into the side of the neck. "But, you can't see the ocean or the sky." "Sure, I can." He pulled her upright and tilted his head so they were nose to nose, "I just look in your eyes." A soft chuckle bubbled in her throat and she said hoarsely, "I didn't know you were such a sap." "Well, you learn new things every day." And then, once again his mouth hungrily found hers and for awhile the sails were forgotten. For a moment she was caught in her memory, trapped in Mulder's arms, and the salty heaviness of the air. There were things she couldn't explain to her soldiers, that times like those hadn't been momentous or a culmination of a lifetime of work. That was life. And life, as stories, had its own ends and beginnings. "I promise you that we'll stay together. Promise Scully." "Always Mulder," she had said and he swept her into an embrace even as the hordes of aliens had attacked. "I promise," she cried out loud. Feeling a tap on her arm she jerked and reached out a hand for her gun, before realizing it was James. "Dana?" he said, looking worried. "Sorry, I was falling asleep. Look at the sky, it must be about time to assemble the troops. Go bring the generals to me," she replied curtly, struggling to compose her face. He nodded, but as he was walking away he hesitated, "Dana, is it worth it?" "What?" "All these deaths, this fighting. Is the future worth it?" "It's always worth it James," she replied. "Was it worth it then, you know Before?" "Yes, even then." "Good. Dana, you know that story you were telling us?" "Yes?' "I think it'll have a happy ending." Slowly and carefully, she smiled and dismissing him with a nod they began to prepare for the battle. Fin. - - - - Huh. I wrote non-angst. Who knew it was possible? Certainly not me. Must have been all that eggnog. As always thanks to Nat, who guides me, guards my muse, and lights fires under my butt. The dry-cleaning bill should be there by next week. Also, to Ikkle for being my sanity. And for waving that cute little finger at me. This one's for you, whether you want it or not. Last to Nina, who let me take her beta-virginity. Thanks for the lovely comments and excellent guidance. I look forward to working with you in the future. ~Squirrel Winged_squirrel@my-deja.com "Here's a long night - an endless night - before us, and no time yet for sleep, not in this hall. Recall the past deeds and the strange adventures. I could stay up until the sacred Dawn as long as you might wish to tell your story." - Homer, The Odyssey (transl. Robert Fitzgerald) "Halflings," laughed the rider... "Halflings! But they are only a little people in old songs and children's tales out of the North. Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?" "A man may do both," said Aragorn, "for not we but those who come after will make the legends of our time. The green earth, say you? That is a mighty matter of legend, though you tread it under the light of day." - J.R.R. Tolkien, Lord of the Rings