From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Fri, 10 Dec 1999 15:54:35 -0600
Subject: "Only In My Memory" by Kate
Source: direct


"Only In My Memory"
E-Mail: SpookyGrl5@aol.com
Author: Kate Wilkening
Category: MSR, UST, Angst
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They're mine. That's right. Mine. What's that? You say you've
got a contract and a lawyer who say differently? You're right. 
Spoilers: Post-'Millennium' 'fic
Summery: Scully reflects on the kiss at the end of 'Millennium'
Feedback: Please! Indulge me! 
Archive(s): Any. But please include my name and addy, and e-mail me
beforehand so that I can see where my brainchild is going! Thanks! 



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      "Only In My Memory"
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Nine seconds. 

I timed it. 

Subconsciously, of course. Counting out loud during a kiss like that could
lead to some serious conflicts in judgement. 

Nine seconds. 

Oh, God. Help me get away from myself. 

He was so fucking perfect. So much like the diluted fantasies I've often
found myself indulging in. His lips. On mine. For a full nine seconds. I
could feel his heartbeat through that thin gray tee-shirt of his, feel the
warmth of his skin. I wanted to sp lay my fingers across his chest, to
bury myself into him and never back away. 

He tasted like sweet liquor. 

Intoxicating. 

Numbing. 

So dangerously perfect. 

I relented only a moment. I don't know what I was afraid of. But he was
right: the world didn't end. It got sweeter.

Now I can't tear him from my mind. As we exited the hospital, his arm
draped around my shoulder, I contemplated what I had just done. What *we*
had done. We had ignited a flame that now burns brightly. I'm afraid to
let my life be illuminated by this ligh t. Afraid that I'll loose him. And
yet I know I never will. He plays on my dampened heartstrings like a
concert violinist, the vibrations shaking me to my very center. Every
shared word, every mere touch is a chord striking a resonant note within
me. 

Christ, I feel like a sixteen-year-old again. 

Sensing the world for the very first time. Testing my feeble wings in the
pounding rainstorm. Now, I find, it's a storm I'd like to stay in. 

I know we'll both bury this. We won't speak of it. Just like the hallway.
God, I had been ready then, too. Ready to loose myself. I lay awake so
many nights after Mulder and I returned from Antarctica, contemplating
what "could have been".

"What could have been" now is. 

All my years of studying the human body couldn't have prepared me for the
exhilaration I felt rush like a current of white-hot electricity when his
lips brushed mine. I felt it strike my very center with a firm reckoning. 
I resisted the urge to deepen the kiss, to tangle my fingers in those
mahogany tresses of his, to let my fingers dance erratic patterns across
his bare skin. 

Nine seconds. 

Nine seconds that exist now...only in my memory. 




.Finis. 





~-.._~-.._~-.._~-.._~-.._~-.._~
      "Only In My Memory"
     By: Kate Wilkening, 1999
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