A Chance Meeting
Fiction Rated T
Synapsis: Right, well, you may find this rather boring, but it's something I've wanted to do for a while. Life is funny at times, and two people may cross each other's paths for the right reasons. We may or may not realize that the person we sit beside on the bus, or in this case, next to at a diner, may be able to change our lives forever. Very often, we don't say a word, and walk away, and sweet, yet dark fate laughs at our shortsightedness. Anyhow, be prepared for Invader Zim/X-Files crossover, and lots of rhetoric. I don't own Invader Zim nor The X-Files, don't ask, don't sue.
A dark, rainy night in the inner city. A diner's neon lights shine through the dismal weather, like a beacon of hope to weary travellers in need of a dry, warm atmosphere, a cup of hot, strong coffee, and perhaps a blueplate special for two dollars and fifty cents. A figure sits at the diner's bar, a man, looking wearied from a day of God-knows-what, rain dripping from his black trenchcoat as he drinks his coffee. The average built, brown-haired man looks up from his cup.
"Hey, uh, miss," He calls. An elderly waitress looks up, hating her job. She's seen this man here before. Always in a white shirt, black tie, and trenchcoat. He's a cop, or something, she can't recall, doesn't matter anyway.
"Whaddya need?"
"Can I get a refill?" Without a word, she fetches the pot, and fills the cup. The doorbell chimes as someone walks in. A boy enters, his black hair matted down by the rain. Ironically, he too is wearing a black trenchcoat. He takes off a pair of large, round-framed glasses and wipes them on his shirt. He places them onto his face, then sits beside the man at the bar. Old waitress walks over.
"What can I get ya, honey?"
"Hot chocolate." He says forlornly. The waitress nods and walks to the kitchen. The boy shakes like a wet dog, trying to relieve himself of the water that has him thoroughly soaked. The man looks over.
"Isn't it a little late to be walking around in a rainstorm?" He asks. Why is he trying to make conversation with a kid? Boredom perhaps.
"Nah," The boy replies, "I've been out in alot worse. Just working." The man laughs lightly.
"Aren't you a little young to be working?" The boy looks over, slightly annoyed. "What do you do?" He is silent for a moment.
"Chase shadows." The boy replies, nodding. His hot chocolate comes. He takes a sip. "Run around in circles trying to figure out answers that nobody wants to hear."
"That's kind of astute for somone your age." The man replies.
"Well, what do you do?" The boy asks. The man sighs.
"Pretty much the same thing. I'm with the Federal Bureau of Investigation."
"Wow, the FBI?"
"No wow to it. My superiors see me as a thorn in their sides, my methods and theories are always called into question, and my own partner doubts my sanity most of the time."
"Don't feel bad. Everyone says I'm crazy, annoying, or just wierd."
"In college, my collegues called me 'Spooky.'" The man confesses. "Spooky Mulder."
"That's your name," The boy asks. "Agent Mulder?"
"Yeah, Fox Mulder."
"My name's Dib." The boy replies, holding out a hand. "Dib Membrane." Agent Mulder takes his hand and shakes it.
"Good to meet you, Dib." Dib nods and takes a long drink of his cooling hot chocolate. Mulder follows suit with his coffee. The two sit for a minute in silence, then Dib speaks.
"Is it worth it, Agent Mulder?" Mulder looks over.
"What's that?"
"Searching for answers when everyone is against you? Against the truth?
"Well" Mulder said. "I like to think it is. I've been doing it for years. Dib, the important thing to remember is that truth is a funny thing to most people. If it works for society, and if it is something valuable to a person or people as a whole, everyone jumps on the bandwagon. But if the truth reveals something people would rather not know, and if it calls into question their beliefs, their logic, their faith, then they'd rather cover it up, ignore it, or even kill to keep from having to deal with it."
"Yeah," Dib sighs, finishing his hot chocolate. "And it's all so dumb."
"So are most people, but it's the ones that keep looking that find enlightenment." Mulder's beeper rings. He glances at it. "Well, Dib, I have to go. I'm buying, huh?" Mulder drops several dollar bills on the counter. "It was good talking with you." He says as he exits the diner.
"You too." Dib says as the F.B.I. Agent leaves. He sits at the counter for a minute more. "I bet Mulder would make a great paranormal investigator." Dib says to himself, then stands and leaves. The rain falls through the night, and Fate sits, laughing at another irony of her own devise.
Well, there it was, my loyal readers, the Invader Zim/X-Files crossover no one was waiting for. Like I said, I've been wanting to get that out of my bloody system for some time, so now that I did, Be expecting my piece d' resistance soon. Please tell me what you thought. So few people have reviewed my stuff, I'm beginning to think It's horrible or something. Anywho, must stop gibbering. Cheerio.