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Apr. 19th, 2003 10:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vaznettiOK. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kristenk2 issued the challenge, and it is still Deslea's birthday here in the land of Pacific time. Sorry to be so self-indulgent, but it's another Parallel Catastrophes fragment. K/Ma, for the birthday girl (what, you were expecting Knowle/Shannon?).
No beta, so all the mistakes are mine. I aimed for shmoop, but got a dollop of angst alongside.
Parallel Catastrophes: Years or Mileage
Author: Vanzetti
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: The XFiles and Harry Potter universes are not mine. No copyright infringement here.
Set: Summer 1995
Marita couldn't help but feel that seven years in Slytherin ought to have left her better prepared to deal with Alex Krycek. Even though he'd been on the run for almost a month and had just woken from a sound sleep he managed to look intimidating. That might have been due to the gun pointed unwaveringly at her.
"You don't need the gun, Alex," she said. "I'm not here to hurt you." On reflection, Apparating into his motel room was not the best idea she'd ever had.
"I don't believe that," he said. "How did you find me?"
"I know you,' she said in a soothing voice.
"You used magic on me, didn't you? What did you do to me?"
"Nothing!" she said. "I mean, I did use a charm to find you..." His eyes narrowed and his finger shifted slightly on the trigger, so she hurried the rest of the sentence out. "But it didn't do anything to you. And it wouldn't have worked if I didn't... if we weren't..." She blinked back tears. "Alex, please put down the gun."
He stared at her as if he didn't recognize her for a second. She watched his eyes cloud until he blinked too and dropped his hands to the bed, still holding the gun in his right. Marita tried not to sag too obviously with relief. "Why did you come looking for me?" he asked. Now he sounded tired and a little sad. "Why didn't you let me disappear?"
"Someone would have found you someday." His face hardened as he thought about it. "I'm sorry," she offered, as if the truth of their situation was somehow in her control.
"It's not your fault," he responded automatically. Then, perhaps in response to his own words he ducked his head and placed the gun on the bedside table. "I'm sorry, too. You took me by surprise."
Still moving carefully, she sat down on the bed. "That's all right. You only frightened ten years off my lifespan."
"Which still leaves you twice as long as me, even without the Smoker trying to have me killed."
"We're not that different," she protested. But his face was creased with sleep and she could suddenly imagine him, fifty years from now.
"Sure," he said. "Except for the part where you can teleport anywhere you want, and turn people into frogs and make them do anything you want and God only knows what else!"
"I didn't realize it bothered you."
"It's not--" He tried again. "It doesn't-- I don't know. I wanted to leave all this behind."
"Even me?" she asked. She was not going to cry in front of him.
He sighed and stared at the sheets. "I don't know. But Marita, I nearly died back in Washington. If I'd been a few seconds slower... I'm not even thirty years old!"
She wanted to reach out to him, but the distance over the few inches of bedspread seemed infinite. "I didn't know!" she said instead. "If I had known, don't you think I would have done something?"
He met her eyes. "Parkinson knew. He had to have known."
"And if you come back with me..."
"...Then I go back to him, too."
"I won't let him hurt you again," she said. "He'll understand." She closed her eyes and summoned the image she'd had of Alex, fifty years older. She would see that face in reality, she told herself. "I'll make him understand."
"He'll never take me seriously," Alex said. "It's always been easy for you. You've always been... It doesn't matter."
She could feel herself turning pink. "It does matter! I--" she stumbled over the words. "I care about you."
"It doesn't matter because I have to go back with you anyway," he said.
She could feel actual tears on her cheeks. "I'll pretend I never found you," she said. "I promise."
She had closed her eyes against the tears, so the touch of his fingers as he brushed them away surprised you. "No," he said. "You were right. Someone will find me someday." He pulled her against him and held her. "At least this way I'll be with you," he whispered.
Marita Covarrubias had never sniffled in her life, not even when she'd gone back to Hogwarts the year after her father had disappeared and Theseus Pilchard had tormented her every day. She was not going to start now. She was not going to ask for reassurance. She pulled away from Alex and sat up straight.
He let her go, but kept hold of one hand. "I mean it," he said. "It makes it better, knowing that you..." he hesitated. "Being able to see you."
"Does what I am really bother you so much?"
"No," he said, his voice so firm that she decided to believe him. Then he sighed. "It's weird. But this whole situation is weird. A little more weirdness doesn't make much difference."
"I care about you, Alex," she said. "It doesn't matter where you come from or what you are."
His smile made her heart feel strangely heavy. "I love you too, Marita." As if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if he had no idea that her entire world was shifting, here in this dingy Muggle motel room.
"I..." she stopped, tongue-tied, and smiled at him again, hoping he would understand her. Seven years in Slytherin was really no use at all when it came to Alex Krycek.
End
kristenk2 issued the challenge, and it is still Deslea's birthday here in the land of Pacific time. Sorry to be so self-indulgent, but it's another Parallel Catastrophes fragment. K/Ma, for the birthday girl (what, you were expecting Knowle/Shannon?).No beta, so all the mistakes are mine. I aimed for shmoop, but got a dollop of angst alongside.
Parallel Catastrophes: Years or Mileage
Author: Vanzetti
Rating: PG?
Disclaimer: The XFiles and Harry Potter universes are not mine. No copyright infringement here.
Set: Summer 1995
Marita couldn't help but feel that seven years in Slytherin ought to have left her better prepared to deal with Alex Krycek. Even though he'd been on the run for almost a month and had just woken from a sound sleep he managed to look intimidating. That might have been due to the gun pointed unwaveringly at her.
"You don't need the gun, Alex," she said. "I'm not here to hurt you." On reflection, Apparating into his motel room was not the best idea she'd ever had.
"I don't believe that," he said. "How did you find me?"
"I know you,' she said in a soothing voice.
"You used magic on me, didn't you? What did you do to me?"
"Nothing!" she said. "I mean, I did use a charm to find you..." His eyes narrowed and his finger shifted slightly on the trigger, so she hurried the rest of the sentence out. "But it didn't do anything to you. And it wouldn't have worked if I didn't... if we weren't..." She blinked back tears. "Alex, please put down the gun."
He stared at her as if he didn't recognize her for a second. She watched his eyes cloud until he blinked too and dropped his hands to the bed, still holding the gun in his right. Marita tried not to sag too obviously with relief. "Why did you come looking for me?" he asked. Now he sounded tired and a little sad. "Why didn't you let me disappear?"
"Someone would have found you someday." His face hardened as he thought about it. "I'm sorry," she offered, as if the truth of their situation was somehow in her control.
"It's not your fault," he responded automatically. Then, perhaps in response to his own words he ducked his head and placed the gun on the bedside table. "I'm sorry, too. You took me by surprise."
Still moving carefully, she sat down on the bed. "That's all right. You only frightened ten years off my lifespan."
"Which still leaves you twice as long as me, even without the Smoker trying to have me killed."
"We're not that different," she protested. But his face was creased with sleep and she could suddenly imagine him, fifty years from now.
"Sure," he said. "Except for the part where you can teleport anywhere you want, and turn people into frogs and make them do anything you want and God only knows what else!"
"I didn't realize it bothered you."
"It's not--" He tried again. "It doesn't-- I don't know. I wanted to leave all this behind."
"Even me?" she asked. She was not going to cry in front of him.
He sighed and stared at the sheets. "I don't know. But Marita, I nearly died back in Washington. If I'd been a few seconds slower... I'm not even thirty years old!"
She wanted to reach out to him, but the distance over the few inches of bedspread seemed infinite. "I didn't know!" she said instead. "If I had known, don't you think I would have done something?"
He met her eyes. "Parkinson knew. He had to have known."
"And if you come back with me..."
"...Then I go back to him, too."
"I won't let him hurt you again," she said. "He'll understand." She closed her eyes and summoned the image she'd had of Alex, fifty years older. She would see that face in reality, she told herself. "I'll make him understand."
"He'll never take me seriously," Alex said. "It's always been easy for you. You've always been... It doesn't matter."
She could feel herself turning pink. "It does matter! I--" she stumbled over the words. "I care about you."
"It doesn't matter because I have to go back with you anyway," he said.
She could feel actual tears on her cheeks. "I'll pretend I never found you," she said. "I promise."
She had closed her eyes against the tears, so the touch of his fingers as he brushed them away surprised you. "No," he said. "You were right. Someone will find me someday." He pulled her against him and held her. "At least this way I'll be with you," he whispered.
Marita Covarrubias had never sniffled in her life, not even when she'd gone back to Hogwarts the year after her father had disappeared and Theseus Pilchard had tormented her every day. She was not going to start now. She was not going to ask for reassurance. She pulled away from Alex and sat up straight.
He let her go, but kept hold of one hand. "I mean it," he said. "It makes it better, knowing that you..." he hesitated. "Being able to see you."
"Does what I am really bother you so much?"
"No," he said, his voice so firm that she decided to believe him. Then he sighed. "It's weird. But this whole situation is weird. A little more weirdness doesn't make much difference."
"I care about you, Alex," she said. "It doesn't matter where you come from or what you are."
His smile made her heart feel strangely heavy. "I love you too, Marita." As if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if he had no idea that her entire world was shifting, here in this dingy Muggle motel room.
"I..." she stopped, tongue-tied, and smiled at him again, hoping he would understand her. Seven years in Slytherin was really no use at all when it came to Alex Krycek.
End
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no subject
Date: 2003-04-20 07:54 am (UTC)And it really, really isn't any better an idea to Apparate into a sleeping assassin's room than it is to walk into it. Or at least, not unless you're prepared to Apparate out again pretty quickly. :-)
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Date: 2003-04-20 10:51 am (UTC)I think the problem is that Mulder would want to know everything, whereas Krycek is content to know as much as he needs to. I do think that if you caught Mulder in one of his "sense of wonder" moods, things would turn our OK--and of course you wouldn't let him meet Malfoy. Any Malfoys, really. He'd be fine so long as you kept him with the "good guys" because Mulder works well with people who have a clear sense of black and white. He just owuld never stoip asking questions. Krycek is in some ways less tolerant of weirdness--or maybe less interested in it: unless it has to do with the conspiracy (and/or might hurt him), he really doesn't care.
It surprised me, in this piece, how innocent Marita is. But it makes sense, considering the background I've given her.
no subject
Date: 2003-04-20 11:43 am (UTC)Yes. I think it's those survival instincts again. He can do blinkered vision if he wants to, and if it's in his interests. Whereas, Mulder, quite often doesn't have what you'd term survival instincts. Or at least, he doesn't prioritize them as high as finding out what he wants to find out. I've often wondered how the X-Files would have fared if they'd been discovered by someone with a quieter, more subtle approach, who sat quietly in a corner for a decade or so collecting evidence and presented it all at once at a right moment, rather than the Mulder approach of shouting each discovery from the rooftops as he makes it. Okay, that's an exaggeration... but I'm sure that he could have got through his FBI career without turning his reputation into a joke if he'd played the game alongside all the other players. Though I guess he might have looked at himself as getting a little dirty while doing it, and he wouldn't be comfortable with that.
And yes, I can imagine that Mulder would lap that world up if you took him to tea with the Weasleys, or to visit Hogwarts and talk to people like Dumbledore. But I'd try very hard to make sure that Snape was away that week, and that he didn't get to chat with too many of the Slytherin kiddies whose parents think the return of Voldemort is a Good Thing.
I like the way your Marita works in this universe. It's interesting the way that coming from another world means that she can know all the same stuff about power games and politics, and somehow be less touched by it. Plus, the crossover is a useful way of getting another strong female into the Potterverse, which doesn't have as many of them as I'd like.
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Date: 2003-04-20 07:35 pm (UTC)And yes, I can imagine that Mulder would lap that world up if you took him to tea with the Weasleys, or to visit Hogwarts and talk to people like Dumbledore. But I'd try very hard to make sure that Snape was away that week...
Someone is writing a crossover like this--I see episodes on all-xf, but don't read through the whole thing, becaue the chronological errors annoy me and it seems very talky to me. The name I associate with it is Geneticus, but I can't remember if that's the author or the title.
I imagine that one could write a story in which Diana Fowley was playing the kind of long, quiet game you suggest in your comment, but got too close the the conspiracy in her attempts to keep track of it and gather evidence, and ended up being destroyed by it.
no subject
Date: 2003-04-21 03:59 am (UTC)I can see that it might well have to. After all, otherwise you have the problem of how a clever wizard like WMM/Parkinson could permit a muggle car bomb to kill him, and I'm not sure it could. Of course, someone Apparating to the opposite end of the alley to Mulder, waving a wand and yelling Avada kedavra might do the trick. Or he might just have decided to retire from the muggle world and settle down to wizard politics full time. :-)
I'd certainly be interested to see what reaction Mulder would have to finding a hidden world within his world. Maybe that's where he's going when he takes off to England to investigate crop circles in "all things"?
I quite like that as an idea for a Diana background. It seems more fulfilling somehow than the thought that she was an out-and-out villain from the start. It's more in keeping with what we learned of the conspiracy players in the early years too, before mytharc episodes got painted in such broad strokes of black and white. In seasons 2-3, people like WMM and CSM were portrayed as selfish, yes, but also as doing something that they genuinely thought might help the world as well as themselves. Their means and motives were suspect, more than the end results they were trying to achieve, which is why it's so easy to slot Krycek into the game as a kind of anti-Mulder, breaking all the rules and doing terrible things, but with the same end goal. The groundwork has already been done by the series itself.