From: "Sqira A." Date: Mon, 09 Aug 1999 18:49:50 GMT Subject: NEW: Quotes: Then I Understood... (1/1) Title: Quotes: Then I understood... Author: Sqira A. Classification: VA Keyword: M/S UST, Missing scene(?) Content Warning: PG-13 Summary: My muse on that shared room. Spoiler Warning: Rain King Distribution Statement: Yes, with my knowledge. Feedback: Reply back guarantee at sqira@notme.com Disclaimer: Not mine. Deal with it. Author's Note: The second in the series. No, it's a stand alone as the rest of the series. Feedback will be much loved... tell me of what you think of the tie between the fic and the quote... or if there *is* any tie at all. Thanks for reading. Great thanks to Heather for the Saturday morning wake-me-upper and Amy for the encouragement. This one's for you guys. -------------------- I crept quietly into the room, avoiding as much unnecessary sound as possible. A rumbling run of water greeted my ears, telling me of an occupant in the bathroom. Ah, she was back. I tuned my ears, trying to catch any inconsistencies, but I received none. I was saved... for the night at least. I could still remember her annoyance at our sudden joint sleeping arrangements this morning. She had grumbled and tried to wrestle her way out of it, while I sat there, amused. What could I say? I had a splitting headache then, a cow that was perhaps on its way to the nearest meat processor and not to mention the damn weather that refused to let up. I had a lot on my mind and sleeping arrangements were nothing compared to the other matters at hand. She had flung exasperated looks at me for my nonchalant attitude in the situation. I was unresponsive, unwilling to be her partner in crime in such trivial pursuits. C'mon, a room is just a room... four walls, a decent bathroom if you're lucky, a working TV if you're blessed. The God of Fortune must had been smiling on us as her room had all these... *And* more as I soon found out. I tiptoed my way around the room, finding my bag by the side of the couch. Okay, I assumed that was going to be my bed for the night. That was fine by me; at least it was home for a while. I sank myself into the couch, loosening my tie off my body. A sudden wave of fatigue diffused itself into me, causing a tinge of nausea swimming in my head. Perhaps I had a hard day at work (right... and Elmer Fudd *did* catch that damn wabbit) or perhaps I was getting old. Yeah, that was it... old. My body was not what it used to be; able to take the burden of the world. Right at this moment, I could feel it slipping ever so gently to the ground... and I did not have the will and the strength to lift it again. Then again, perhaps I was just tired. I gave the room a once over, settling my eyes onto the window at my side. It was open, allowing a gentle breeze to caress its way softly around its fine curtains. I thanked the moonless night for the darkness that hugged the room, enveloping me in its calming embrace. I welcomed it, making it a part of my existence. Its presence soothed me, rocking me slowly in its silent lucidity. I was gradually being taken over, my body relaxed upon its command, my mind emptied on call. My eyes drooped in response, entering the other realm willingly. I dozed, along with the gentle run of water lapping softly in my ear. I lost track of time in my state of slumber. Images flashed through me, random pictures careened its marks. I tried to grab hold of some of them, relishing the moments. It was then that I sensed another dream birthing its roots, taking form in beats. I waited in patience, resisting the urge to hurry. I found myself waking up to a presence before me; hovering and peering. Traces of slumber were still imbedded in me, preventing my senses from stirring. I felt warm breaths on me; on my face... warming my cheeks. The breaths followed a mantra, a repeat of syllables that proved incomprehensible to me. I tried to shake my head to face that presence only to find my body unable to cooperate. It had simply gave up in my times of need. Then, it came slowly. The presence produced a touch that burned me throughout, scarring the very place that it was laid upon. I remained motionless, absorbing the pleasure that seared through. Who was this being that made me feel so? The Angel of Death that finally reclaimed me? It was *time*? A shudder chilled through me, forcing myself to grasp the presence ahead. But... it was gone. Coldness greeted me, wrapping eerily into my grasps. Who was that? Was it all a dream? A figment of my imagination? I woke up then, swatting away the cobwebs that tied me to my dreams. I shook my head, palming it in my hands. I searched my reasons, cursing myself for taking up the case that brought us into this god-forsaken town. What was I thinking? Getting my brain fried was not part of my agenda here. Reality hit me hard then. The room was silent, broken only by the woeful cries of the wind. I looked towards the bathroom, noticing the similar darkness that walled the room. Strange... where was she? An abrupt movement caught my ears. I tuned into the movement, honing its source. My eyes ended their search by the window, its curtains masking my view. Then, I saw her. My angel stood stoically against the wind, ignoring the chills that whizzed by. The table lamp halloed her in my eyes, curving her silhouette in the darkness. Her hair, damp from the shower, began to curl unevenly around her face. Her arms crossed tightly across her, shutting out the world, leaving her alone. Her eyes were fixed on the scene yonder, oblivious to her instant surroundings. I watched her silently, unwilling to break the serenity of the situation. My arms ached to circle her, to hold her close to me. But, something stopped me. Something more primal... I wanted to watch her. Guilt stabbed through me, accusing me of invading her privacy and personal moments. I felt like a pervert for a moment, seeing no way that I was any different from those who find pleasure in seeing something that they shouldn't. I felt sick... and so wrong. But I sat still, my eyes laying claim on the angel before me. I contemplated her next move; rushing back to bed, shutting the window hastily, coming straight at me and slapping me silly... she did anything but. Her hands slowly lowered to the knot of her robe. Entangling it, she gently slipped the cloth off her shoulders, onto the floor. My eyes screamed in delight, surprised and aroused by her languid movements. My eyes gathered at the robe that pooled around her feet. Her feet were shoeless, as she stepped off carefully from the fabric. I willed my eyes to stay stationary at her feet, afraid of the sight that would greet me above. But my curiosity won the best of me, edging and daring me to go beyond her that I had ever gone before. Her calves were shaped by an artist's hands, sculpted modestly of flesh and muscle. They curved ever so perfectly, skin-tight and pale. They ended, hidden mysteriously by a wispy fabric that graced her knees. My eyes furrowed in confusion, stopping my eyes there and then. My angel? In a slip? Where were her jammies? Whoah, hello! My eyes rushed through her, drinking her sight for the first time. She had adorned a soft, silk maybe, pale blue slip that ran mercilessly to her knees. Two frail straps supported this entire piece, with one being hung tightly while its pair was busy exploring new areas of her upper arm. I swallowed my breath, noticing the rapid beatings of my heart. I lay my hand on top of it, massaging it to still... for at that moment, I had certainly died and left hell for her. The slip accentuated her figure, molded by the mounts and valleys that dipped naturally around her. The slip caressed her, whispering sweet nothings that lay delicately unflustered upon her skin. Her breaths hollowed the slip, allowing the cool air to settle itself permanently in between. It moved beneath the slip, nuzzling the very skin that I would die to be. She stood motionless still, her back facing me. The slip plunged dangerously low on her back, clearing the pathway for my sinful thoughts. Her shoulders lined relaxed across her back, smoothing the creases off her torso. I forced myself not to move as my eyes toured perilously deeper into her back. I shut my eyes in wonder, overwhelmed by the scene that played before me. I had found my heaven. Softly, my angel moved. She pressed herself closer to the wind, closing the distance between her and the window. She hinged herself by the side of the window, looking as if in sorrow. This time, I could finally see her. Her slip modestly covered her, vainly veiling herself to me. The slip rested lightly on her breasts, rising in motion with her labored breaths. Her breasts were perfect in my eyes, the very mark of her womanhood that she sometimes tried to hide. The slip carried on, waving itself onto her belly, shoring unknowingly into my desires. Then, I knew. I knew how I could treat her. I realized how I could touch her. I knew it then, like a sudden revelation that dawned unwittingly into me. I *must* be that slip. I *will* be that slip. I stocked those images into memory, securing them in place, casting them in stone. But I noticed too of how futile such memories might be. The possibilities of it actually happening in reality were close to none. We were too stubborn, too afraid of walking over that line. Over time, the line began disappearing; erased in the years, smudged over unconsciously. In truth, we were getting there, but both of us needed the push to do so. I am a patient man, but at that moment, in that room; patience ran a mighty low. But at least now, I knew more than before. I knew what I would be, or try to be when I am with her. She allowed me a peek into a side of her that I would never had tapped. She allowed me in, although unknowingly, unconsciously, illegally. Even then, I could not fathom the reasons for her melancholy. Her face carried some part of sadness, perhaps a regret that mulled her mind. Her hands rubbed her arms habitually, damping the hairs that stood suddenly in the midnight chill. I slumped my head unto my hand that pinned by my couch. Drunk on her, I continued my watch, disguising my scrutiny on her. Suddenly, as swiftly as it came, she froze. Her arms stiffened and her body went rigid. The next instant was a blur to me as she made her way from the window towards the bed. I closed my eyes instinctually, compelling my body to follow suit. I leveled my breathing, digging my head deeper into the couch. Oh please God, I *needed* to be saved... She stopped by my side, sweeping her hand tenderly against my forehead. Her hand flew south, trekking idly to my chest, hesitating for a minute too long. I dared not look at her. Fear gripped its fingers in me and it was taking me whole. I was a coward... and a bad one in my act. I felt her moving away, distancing herself once again from me... oh, my mistake, *I* was the one who did the distancing. Upon hearing the creaks of the bed, I carefully opened my eyes, locking her face into my view. She threw a glance towards me. I was thankful for the darkness that covered me, permitting me to gaze back at her without her ever knowing. I saw the same sadness that I saw before. This time, I felt as if it hurt her more to look at me than a few minutes ago. What? What should I do? Then, she turned and cocooned herself tightly between the sheets. She switched the light off, blacking my view. I let out the breath that I was holding, hanging my head low in disgust. I was such a damn coward. A rustle between the sheets jostled me out of my reverie. I clamped my eyes shut, sealing the thoughts that ran wildly in my mind. "Goodnight Mulder. Maybe next time." Then... my eyes flew open. ----- One night, I watched Dona Querida at the window in her slip and noticed for the first time how a woman's underclothing barely touches her skin; how it rides on a cushion of air as she moves, how the silk floats about her body rushing her flesh like an angel's wing. Then I understood how a woman must be touched! - Don Juan Demarco in 'Don Juan Demarco' -------------------- Feedback please... I hate to beg :o) Scribendi cacoethes http://members.dencity.com/sqira/index.htm