From: "Turkey Delish" Date: Wed, 09 May 2001 00:09:30 -0700 Subject: Short Hours of Ecstasy Source: direct SHORT HOURS OF ECSTASY AUTHOR: The X-Piig CATEGORY: VRA SPOILERS: None KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully Romance RATED: PG SUMMARY: "I have envisioned a scene like this a million times and even in my fantasies I love you too much to complete it." ~Mulder DISCLAIMER: "Chris it ain't so-oo-oo... they're your characters... Chris it ain't so-oo-oo... I'm just loaning him and her..." --to the tune of Say it Ain't So, by Weezer NOTES: I wrote this in half an hour while taking a break from a science project. Un-beta'd, probably pure crap but I love it anyway. From Mulder's POV, of course. See, I've read (and written) so many Drunk!Scully stories where he resists her, or doesn't and she wakes up remembering and wholly understanding that I wanted one where it's not all so rosy. Don't worry, the ending is happy. FEEDBACK: "I'm a lot like you... so please, hello... I'm here... I'm waaaitin... I think feedback's good for me... and I'll... be good.... to you" -tune of: El Scorcho, by Weezer * * * Last night you came to my apartment, drunk. I don't know how or where you got that way, but there you were, standing in my doorway with your blouse unbuttoned too far and an enigmatic smile on your face. I asked what you were doing there so late, and you told me you needed to see me. Ridiculously enough, my first question was if you had driven in this state, you answered in the negative, and I was left with my guard down and nothing to say. That was when you put your arms around my neck and kissed me, hard enough and good enough to suck all the breath out of my body. You pulled back and I still had nothing to say, so you kissed me again. By the time we made it to my couch, my shirt was off and you were running your small hands over my jeans, driving me crazy. I knew you were drunk out of your mind, knew I shouldn't be doing what I was doing so enthusiastically. My mind was split between the part where I see you storming angrily out of my life for this, and the part where I see us, together on my couch, simple puzzle pieces. I pulled you closer because that part of my mind was more alive. It sparked and jumped every time your lips scarred the rough skin of my face. I danced and sizzled when I buried my face in your hair and inhaled the undeniable scent. And it slowly, reluctantly faded into the background as I forced myself to do the impossible: stop. I slid out from underneath you, bruising my hip on the floor and earning a sharp, frustrated snort from you. You wanted this, see? I wanted it so much, but I tried not to give in. The story of my life. I have envisioned a scene like this a million times and even in my fantasies I love you too much to complete it. Stumbling away from that couch, toward some semblance of sanity. I made it as far as the doorway before I felt your hand on my arm, begging me to turn. I hoped for embarrassment, or apology, even anger. Instead I saw what I feared in your eyes: desire. Desire equalling mine but never overshadowing it as you dragged my willing- unwilling head down towards yours. Desire passed through that other dazzling kiss and lit in my own eyes. Forcing me down, down. Farther, until we were in my bed and this time I couldn't stop you. You pushed me until I broke, then pieced me back together even though you yourself were in pieces. You were drunk, I was not, yet you were so very strong. And I couldn't resist. I love you so much but I couldn't resist your final test. I tried to stop until the very minute my back hit the mattress. After that I hardly remember, as drunk off you as you were off your drink. Don't you see? I failed that final test of loyalty and worth. Last night I lived short hours of ecstasy and only because you wanted it too. But I should have resisted, because maybe now you don't want it. God knows I do, but drunk people aren't always reliable. Perhaps it was the drink that said you loved me, and not your beautiful mouth. This morning you woke up and you didn't remember. You threw my arms off and gathered your cloths, glaring at me as I explained. You resented me for taking advantage of you when you were drunk, last night. You told me so, screamed it at me as if I would not otherwise understand. You said you thought you could trust me. I told you I was sorry, and you just looked at me. Because I failed. The one test that mattered and I failed. I don't love you enough. This morning you told me, in your own silent way, that I don't love you enough. Then you walked out on me, leaving a blank mind, blank heart, blank life behind you. This morning you didn't come to work. I came, but I wasn't there. I was at my apartment, with you last night. And this time I was stopping us, telling you I love you too much to do this. This time I slept on the couch and you in my bed, cursing me in your slow, drunken thoughts but grateful in the morning. This afternoon you showed up and stood in front of me, blank as my mind had suddenly become. I told you I was sorry again. I told you I understood, and that maybe I thought I loved you but clearly not enough. I lowered my head as if it was too much effort to even keep my eyes on yours. I said I tried, but you just pushed so much. I broke, and that's why I failed. And please don't break me again, even if I deserve it as I suspect I do. You stared, just stared and I knew you wouldn't forgive me for not loving you enough. You said you were sorry. I looked up, and asked why, asked it with my eyes instead of my mouth. Your face suddenly had emotion, you looked close to tears. You told me you weren't really angry, only scared and maybe frustrated at not being able to remember. You admitted that you had be harsh this morning. You were angry, actually. At yourself, for pushing so hard and blaming that break on me. You leaned down, lowering your voice and finally letting one precious tear out of its prison inside you. You didn't lean down to kiss me, to break me again in either way. You said you were sorry, again, and thanked me. For trying, even if I was too weak to succeed. You didn't say weak, but I thought it myself. No matter what you say, my love was still too weak. You leaned in closer, and thanked me for loving you. You said you loved me too, that you wanted what I wanted. And tonight, Scully, I won't have to be strong. not the END for them http://www.geocities.com/thexpig42 It's about Mulder, Scully, and maybe a lickle iced tea. Home of the world's first non-fiction fanfiction.