From: bugs Date: Wed, 31 May 2000 03:31:57 -0700 Subject: The Ship by bugs Source: direct TITLE: The Ship AUTHOR: bugs SPOILERS: Requiem CATEGORY: MSR, V, A RATING: mild R for a sexual situation DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Spookys 2000- http://urw.simplenet.com/bugs/ship.html Gossamer, others, please ask. SUMMARY: Heaven's in here Heaven's in her Among the twilight and star Like a rocket to mars Heaven in here--David Bowie, 'Heaven's In Here' ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: Ambress, Shawne, Ali, Branwell and Kari...hmmm...5 betas for a 5K story... AUTHOR'S NOTES: A small thought came to me upon the 25th viewing of 'Requiem.' I wrote it down. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This ship lifted and carried me away to an orbit high above the earth. Now it dictates my heart's beating, ordering it onward. Pain throbs in tandem with my heart. Through my agonized nerves, it sends signals to every corner of my body. No part of me is hidden or untouched. I cannot move, even to blink. Cold clamps hold my eyelids open. But there's nothing to see--just the Black. Black as the cosmos outside the vessel's hull. Black as my pain. The roar of the engine is my only companion. Yet it gives me no comfort. It isn't the rumble of a familiar jetliner or the rattle of a navy blue rental car. It's the buzz of a dental drill, the hiss of a television's white noise--as constant and impenetrable as my suffering. The ship is all around me, huge and unfathomable, the empty space smothering me like a heavy shield. It's inside me as well. I can't escape into my mind. It expands, pushes through my veins and settles in my heart, forcing the beats to continue. I concentrate on those beats. In and out. Again and again. They are all I have left. I'm alone. She'd told me she wouldn't let me go alone-- Slowly, I can make out another heartbeat, slightly different. Lighter, like a deer's. I tip my head to nestle my ear between her soft breasts. Her voice is at my other ear. "Mulder--" Smiling, I remember. I am not alone. "I'm here." She murmurs, "Sleep." I manage to laugh and it echoes in the huge cavern around me. "Sleep," she gently chastises me. Rolling over and settling my hips between her thighs, I hold my weight up on my elbows and gaze down into her flushed face. "Can't," I grumble. "I won't ever sleep again." I lightly brush her collarbone with my lips. Sensibly, she reminds me, "You never slept to begin with," but she encourages my wandering mouth and hands, arching her back to give me better access to her neck and breast. "You need your rest," she weakly protests as my fingers find their hot, moist goal. "I'll be at rest in just--" I bury myself in her softness. "A moment," I moan. She wraps her arms around me, becoming larger and larger until she surrounds me. Slowly sinking into her warmth, I'm childishly seeking comfort and safety. She knows. She whispers, "It's okay, Mulder. Just let go. Come to me." I'm trying. I'm trying so hard. I hurry down the narrow corridor of the ship, calling her name, but my words are swallowed by the thick, spongy walls. "Scully!" A light glows ahead of me, and my pace quickens. When I see it, I stop, clutching at the dripping wall. It's not her. It's one of Them, its bright illumination throbbing in time with the thundering heartbeat that now reverberates off the curved walls. The being rotates slowly, like a planet on its own axis. The glistening bald head turns to face me. The round orbs of its eyes are shadows under the closed lids. The heart hangs in the center of a transparent torso and it flutters like beating bird wings, fighting to escape a cage. Despite my fear, I draw closer and reach out to touch the bulbous belly. Surprisingly, the skin is smooth and dry. The familiar smell of vanilla clings to the surface; a powerful and foreign odor in my sterile surroundings. When I drape myself over the shape, fingers course through my sweaty hair. The frantic rhythm of the heart fills my head, then it decelerates. The beats become sure and deep as a temple bell. Cool fingertips stroke my scalp, slowing the whirl of my thoughts. My eyelids drift closed. "Sleep, Mulder. Sleep." "All right, Scully. For you," I whisper as I welcome the darkness. End. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AUTHOR'S MORE NOTES: Waaaah! Poor Mulder! I was doing so well, and now I'm having an anxiety crash. Pardon me or share my pain at: bugs1231@my-deja.com http://urw.simplenet.com/bugs