From: Lejanas@aol.com Date: Mon, 5 Apr 1999 17:43:48 EDT Subject: Soulscape (1/1), by Kathleen Stanton-Adams TITLE: Soulscape AUTHOR: Kathleen Stanton-Adams RATING: R CODES: V, A, it rather defies description, but noromos probably won't like it SPOILERS: None whatsoever, unless CC is planning to do an episode like this any time soon. ARCHIVING: Sure. Fine. Whatever. Just let me know about it, and keep the header intact. Oh, and please forward to atxc, cause I sure as heck don't know how to do it. FEEDBACK: Don't send it. I'm serious. I am the first fanfic writer in the history of the world who does not want to know whether or not you read her story. (now we'll see if reverse psychology REALLY works) Seriously, I'm Lejanas@aol.com. Please, I beg of you, drop me a line. DISCLAIMER: By day, I am a typical Catholic school girl. By night, I am .... the Surfer Dude! Right. Blah blah blah, they're not mine, blah blah blah, all hail the mighty Creator, Chris Carter, and his minions at 1013 at FOX. Everything's his, except Mulder and Scully. They belong to David Duchovny, Gillian Anderson, and one another. AUTHOR'S NOTE: This began as a waking dream of mine. It worked really well in my head. If it doesn't work on paper, *please* let me know. SHAMELESS PLUG: http://members.aol.com/laizhae/mail.html XXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXX Soulscape (1/1) by Kathleen Stanton-Adams XXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXX I don't know what came over me. I don't know why or where or when or how I got the nerve to do what I did. But that doesn't matter now. The important thing is that I did it. In a rare moment of absolute confidence, I pulled him to me, crushing his lips against mine, devouring him, plundering him. Marking him as my own. I heard him whisper my name like a prayer, heard him whisper a thousand beautiful nothings, nothings that meant everything to me, to us. Hushed and terrified declarations of love as his hands and mouth roamed my body. Incoherent, practically, as desire consumed him. "Love you love you love you oh god love you need you my truth my light my life my love need you need you love you love you love you mine mine mine mine mine .... " And then, silence, as our lips met once again. XXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXX There is darkness and there is fire as we tumble to the bed, shamelessly exploring one another. We walk the fine line between making love and fucking, but it hardly matters. Seven years of lust and longing have consumed us, obliterating the tenderness and caring I'd always imagined would define our first time together. He covers me completely, shielding me from the harsh realities of an indifferent world, protecting me from the anguish that has plagued both our lives. We fall into a frenzied rhythm, joined at last, as one, and in a moment of perfect clarity our souls merge. I am him and he is me, and even as he fills me, I *know* his rapture at plunging into my tight, hot depths. I am thrusting and being thrust into, fucking and being fucked, worshipping and being worshipped, touching, tasting this wonderful man, this beautiful woman, that I am and he is and we are and oh god .... Within me, a pressure builds, and my world goes black for a split second. I ride the waves of my climax into a dream world, a future together .... XXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXX .... on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching B-movies and feeding one another bits of pizza crust .... .... spooned in bed, sated from a day of work and a night of love making .... .... in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and bed-haired, making breakfast, burning breakfast, laughing and embracing .... .... holding a child, a beautiful dark-skinned baby girl, not a child of my womb, yet so very much OURS .... .... dance recitals, school plays, parent/teacher conferences, presents at Hannukah, candy at Easter, first boyfriends, permit tests, proms, graduations, baby showers, family reunions .... .... embracing them, my lover and my child, never letting them go, mine, mine, MINE .... Mine. XXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXX I sense his release rather than feel it, and my eyelids flutter open. I need to see him, to kiss him, to tell him what I have experienced, what I *know* will come to pass .... for how could I merely imagine a lifetime so perfect, so real? My vision clears, then blurs, as my eyes fill with tears and an anguished sob is wrenched from the very depths of my soul. My room is dark. My bed is cold. My sheets are drenched. My fingers are sticky. And I am utterly alone. XXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXXxxXX the end???