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Title: SUZ Summary: In the year 2017, Suzanna Scully-Mulder tells us of her 'so-called life'. Normalcy. It's a bizarre word with no real meaning. To most people, normalcy is home with mom and dad, mum and dad who reminisce about their prom and their first date. Grandparents from both sides. Parents who are in their thirties or forties when you're a teenager, and who retire long after your graduation from college. To most people, mom is someone who pulls out her wedding photographs when she's feeling sentimental. Dad is the guy who teaches you to shoot and picks you up when you fall off your bike when you're four. To me, though, normalcy is something far more complicated. For a start, my mom and dad call each other by their surnames. They do not live in the same house - they have separate apartments. They're not married and I doubt if they ever got the chance to go on a real date. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking 'So? It's perfectly normal for people's parents to live apart and not be married. Since they're separated, they might recline from using each other's first names. Your mom got pregnant young - a one-night stand and your dad just happens to be a good guy.' But that's not quite it. You see, mom and dad aren't divorced, because they were never married. Big deal, maybe, but then, mom isn't a girl who just got knocked up and unlucky. She's a doctor, and, until recently, an agent with the federal bureau. And she was 37 years old when I was born. Also, my dad isn't just some 'good guy'. He and my mom have this amazing relationship that's sorta twisted and complicated, but so much so that you can't untwist it, and it's unbreakable and strong and very, very deep. He also used to be with the bureau. In fact, he was my mom's partner. They had been working together for almost eight years before I was born, and never really got used to using each other's first name. Besides, my dad's name is Fox and he hates it. Only Grams can get away with calling him that, and only because she's like a substitute mom to him .(he tells me that she's a better mother to him than his own mom was, but she died before I was born and I have nothing to back that up with, especially since my mom won't ever say anything bad about her.). So, my mom is now 53 and dad's just coming up on 57. He's now teaching at Quantico, since they both retired a while ago. I guess they can't go around chasing criminals when they have heart conditions to worry about. Not that they have any yet. When I said they were never married, I don't mean they don't ever get sentimental about each other. In fact, they do more often than not, and on Fridays, when we go over to the Gunmens' apartment (I'll tell you about them in a minute), they'll pull out photo albums and talk about cases and things they did in the past. I don't really get bored by it, because in sixteen years, I've never heard the same story twice. It started out like this: My dad is a genius. I don't mean 'oo, my dad's a genius', I mean 'he just is'. His IQ is way up in the hundred and seventies, and he has a photographic memory. He's a weirdo, my dad, but tons of fun. Anyway, when he was in his early thirties, he held a really promising career at the bureau. He solved every case he was ever on, and that made the top brass say 'wow. This guy's good.'. Unfortunately, the work was just a way for my dad to ignore what was really bothering him - his sister. My aunt. Her name was Samantha, and when my dad was 12 and she was 8, she was kidnapped under mysterious circumstances. So, when the top brass told him 'right, you're damn good so go investigate whatever you like', he decided to investigate the paranormal. Yeah, it shocked his bosses, too. But they let him go ahead with it, not really aware of his motives, just under the impression that he was out to tell them where to go. Besides, they didn't really want to supply expenses for his work. But they couldn't render it irrelevant, as they had no proof. So, what did they do? They got a very good and well behaved, smart, sophisticated, promising and above all, sceptical agent in to follow him around for a bit and then do the rendering for them. Big mistake. You see, the most qualified sceptical well behaved smart sophisticated and promising agent they could find was - you guessed it - my mom. In those days, the fbi was an all boys club - hard to imagine, I know - mostly women in it now. Anyway, my mom felt challenged by my dad, and did brilliantly to keep up with his ideas - no matter how hard it was. So she took the challenge, and went around with him on a few very odd cases. It didn't take my dad long to tell mom about his reasons for his investigations, and I guess something just clicked. In the end, she didn't give any evidence against him or his investigations to the people in charge, and ended up as his partner. From then on, they worked side by side in a 'you and me vs. the world' manner, and got better and better at what they did. They found out a lot about my aunt's disappearance, and saved the world a few times in the process. Unfortunately, my mom was to pay dearly for backing my dad up like she did. This resulted in her being kidnapped herself, only to return with no recollection of the ordeal and terminal cancer. My dad somehow managed to send her illness into remission, and she (obviously) didn't die, but was rendered infertile for very absurd reasons that don't matter anymore, anyhow. Eventually, the cancer was completely cured when they had a medicinal breakthrough about nine years ago, but at the time, there was sheer panic everywhere for mom's health. My dad started to feel responsible for her losses and on more than one occasion told her to get out while she still could before anything worse could happen to her. But she stuck by him, and I guess it was just as well. There's a huge complicated story in between, but the bottom line is, they had a revelation about my aunt's disappearance, and discovered she had been dead all along. Well, no. That's not really the bottom line, because their work didn't end there. They carried on as before, with one minor difference. Me. Seven years of knowing each other, they finally get together the courage to tell each other that somewhere along the line, they ended up as more than just friends. Each of them recall those four months as being the 'most wonderfully weird time in my life.' . They decided to screw protocol and all the rules, to get over the fact that they were also very best friends, and to get rid of the restlessness each were experiencing. I guessed it must have been pretty tough, each of them having to come out and tell the other their feelings. I asked mom, who treats me like I was born 35 anyway, and she told me it wasn't tough at all. She'd gone through a 'turning point' in her life (I'm presuming she means 'mid-life crisis') where she eventually got round to taking a good look at herself and where her life was going. Something very strange happened, which I won't go into the details of, but it ended up with her confiding in my dad (They were close as crossed fingers by that point) and telling him that she was happy with the way everything had turned out. He found it a bit hard to believe, as she'd lost so much because of her work with him, and that lead him to ask why she did it in the first place - why she hadn't debunked his work and got herself a promotion. She told him that, at first, it was because she had neither the proof nor the heart. He already knew it had turned into her quest, too. Then all of a sudden, the easiest and most realistic, not to mention called-for thing to do was to say 'Oh, by the way, I'm in love with you.'. Thus began their affair. They didn't really think much of it, probably because they had spent most of the past decade around each other, anyway. Neither ever turned around and said 'wow.' It didn't scare or freak them out that they could do anything in each other's company, they were so close. They practically lived in each other's apartments, anyway (and still do) - to them it was just a case of sleeping in the same room. However, they didn't make a big show of it, as you can imagine. They didn't deny it or hide it - just didn't flaunt it. Until one day they were asked to go to the place where they did their very first case. Bellfleur, Oregon. Mom started to feel cold and nauseous, and in the middle of the night, went to tell my dad, who immediately comforted her. Weird thing was, on their very first case, mom had got freaked out by mosquito bites or something, and more or less the same thing had happened (To a lesser extent - I doubt the incident first time round resulted in them lying on a bed together, wrapped round each other, whispering to each other, even crying together. Although, dad says they hugged.) Anyway, he told mom that their work wasn't worth the risk anymore. That he'd finally had no choice but to put something before his work (ie -mom), and they agreed to quit the case. However, when they got home, they discovered something big about the case, and decided not to leave it. Dad told mom to stay at home - because of what had happened to her, she was at a very great risk, and shouldn't go back to Oregon. However, he went back, and in the end, went - missing. Mom, meanwhile, took his advice and got her dizziness and nausea checked out at a hospital, only to find, lo and behold, little ol' me was on the way. So you have Mom and Dad, only minus Dad, having to reveal the extent of their relationship to a choice selection of people, mom looking frantically for dad, meanwhile coping with being pregnant, and depressed. What a woman. In the end, she found him. Once back to health, he was over the freaking moon to hear about me. I was four months due, and they spent that time organising everything for me. Being old time partners and all, they did a great job of it. I eventually got here, and was brought up to be catholic, like mom, and with a great set of advantages. First off, my mom is the most beautiful woman in the world. I swear she could've been a model. Even at 53, she looks young and fresh and she's black belt third dan in karate and could kick the ass of any guy any day. She's also a remarkably good shot and still has her gun. So I naturally inherited her looks, right down to her red hair and blue eyes. Second off, I inherited my dad's intelligence, so I, too, am a genius, and had to be sent to a special school for smart kids. Thank God they refused to let me play chess. They never told me why, though. I guess I should ask one day. Last of all, both of them were so overjoyed to have me, considering my mom's supposed condition that I was doted on quite a lot. Mom and Dad have very few close friends, because of their job, but the ones they do have are all crazy about me. There's my Uncle Walt - or Skinner, as they're used to calling him (or Skinman, as Dad is used to calling him). He was their direct boss in the old days and he grew really fond of them. He helped mom through most of her pregnancy and if it weren't for him, Mom and Dad would've had to endure all sorts of shit about their relationship, and would've been separated. He's great. It's really hard to believe him as being the sort of professional businessman my parents describe. I've always known him as being a great laugh and tons of fun. He also spoils me a lot, but what can be done? He retired when I was about three years old and since then, he's always taken me on holiday to Disneyland or somewhere for a week during summer, to give my mom and dad a little time to themselves. I don't mind - as much as they include me in every part of their lives, they still deserve a while alone now and then. This year, we're going to the LA rockfest - Travis are playing, and so are Small Nirvana. I'm not sure how he'll handle the heavy metal bands, but he says whatever keeps me happy will do. I think he just wants to meet the female stars. Heh heh. Then there are the Gunmen - John, Melvin and Ringo. They're computer dorks, really. Also, lots and lots of fun. They threw this huge party for my 16th birthday, and they've basically taken me on as a hacker's apprentice. I have 3 alias - which my parents know nothing about. I see them every week. You see, I have two homes. Mom's and Dad's. A week will start on Sunday, and we'll all go to Mom's, usually because we go visit Grams after mass, and take her over. And I'll have my bedroom at Mom's place. She used to use it as a study, but just moved her computer into her bedroom. Both my parents have pretty large apartments, so there's really no problem. At mom's it's always clean and perfect, and there's always some sort of music on in the background. Dad stays with us most of the time - sometimes he gets too tired and just stays with the guys or at his own place, but usually he misses Mom too much. When it's just me and mom, we'll get a movie out, drink way too much coffee, play Monopoly or something - we have a great time. I love her. Every second day, we'll stay at dad's. Dad's place is a bit dimly lit, but it's really cool. He has this native American theme going and also has old advertisements for beer and such framed on his wall. And, likewise, sometimes it'll just be me and him, when Mom gets too tired and stays over at Gram's or just at home. And, likewise, she usually misses Dad too much. When she isn't with us, we'll get out all his Pistols and Queen (!) albums, and drink way too much beer and sing all night. Dad will give his life for me and Mom, but he has absolutely no sense of responsibility. He taught me how to play guitar, and how to beat my Mom at poker (she's a champion player, mom is), and by the time I was five he had read the complete volumes of Lord of the Rings to me. Mom was more likely to read Gaarder or Bronte or Plath or Spark, but Dad doesn't budge from his Tolikken. So, as you can imagine - I have a very variably cultured background. There are seven days in the week, though, and that doesn't divide into two very well. So, on a Friday, we'll all go to the Gunmen's apartment and order pizza, play charades, and sleep on the fold-out king-size sofa-bed. On holidays, we'll either go to the summerhouse on the Vineyard, which is right beside the beach, or we'll stay with my Grandmother. Either way, we wind up in a very large house indeed. My first recollection of the beach house is my Mom kneeling behind me with my hand in hers, in front of an easel. She's teaching me to paint and is laughing, because I have a paintbrush in my other hand, and have just supplied her with a very attractive blue paint beard. She looks really beautiful, and her laughter is sweet and soft. She kisses my forehead then, as I laugh with her. Sometimes the memory crops up in my dreams, and every time, I wake up crying. I don't know why I cry, but all I have to do to feel better is tiptoe into my parents' room and slip into their bed at her side, where she'll instinctively pull me towards her. I told dad about it once, and he says that maybe I have a fear of losing her. He says that a lot of people have it and my situation is quite normal. He also used to have dreams like that when she was ill, only he couldn't quite climb into bed with her at the time. One time, he says, he was so devastated, that he sneaked into her hospital room at night and knelt beside her and cried. She was sleeping, but didn't wake up, even when he kissed her hand and stroked her hair. He hadn't told her then. I wonder if he ever did? My parents are past their prime now, I guess. But the things they've done with their lives are extraordinary. Mom is really spiritual, and talks a lot about karma, and charkas, and auras. Grams said that my aunt Melissa (who also died) was very like that, but mom, being the scientist, refused to believe in it. Grams said that, although Dad isn't spiritual like Mom, he's the main reason for her spirituality. I can believe that - so many times he's been the cause of her stopping and thinking 'Wait a minute. Where is my life going?'. Dad still likes to do a few profiles on a spontaneous combustion case every now and then. I watch him when he works. It's absolutely amazing. He's brilliant, and I love him. I love both my parents very much. I've never had a real argument with them in my life. Once, Frohike described us as the Holy Family. I asked him why, and he said that Dad's quest was a bit like the Bible from the start. And he had his disciples, and he had my Mom, and when I arrived, I was generally accepted as the newest member of the team. Apparently, when my Dad came back from being missing in Oregon, the first thing he did when he saw my Mom was wrap his arms around her and kiss her. He'd already been told about me, and her impregnated form didn't come as too much of a shock to him. He still told her that she looked wonderful, and as she hugged him back in reply, I kicked for the first time. Or leapt. Daddy. I guess that from someone like Frohike's point of view, my Mom and Dad being parents to the same child is kind of breathtaking. At least, that's what I've been told. I don't think I'll ever see their point, as I've only ever known the two of them as my parents, and very good ones at that. Besides, Frohike used to have a crush on my mom, but then, so did every other guy in the fed bureau, apparently. I'm not at all surprised. Anyway, the fact that Melvin's nephew is my boyfriend should make up for his loss a little. Phil is his name. He resents 'Phillip', but I get away with calling him that sometimes. As for me, everyone calls me 'Suz'. My German teacher said that my name carries the initials of a German work of philosophy - Sein Und Ziet. It means, 'being and time'. I'm like "Who cares? What the hell does that have to do with anything?". If I weren't smart, I'd have no chance at a decent career, my teachers are all loco. I guess everyone in my life is. And I wouldn't have it any other way. The Sappy End.
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