Author: Sue
Rating: PG-13
Category: Vignette/Langlyfic POV/Other
Spoilers: None really.
Summary: A visitor causes quite a shake-up with
someone...
Disclaimer: No infringement.
C. Carter, 1013, and FOX ownership
of The X-Files and characters.
The Date...continued
~~oo~~
She's plastering her generous lips on mine.
Now I *know* I'm dreaming; but the weirdness
is unquenchable. I haven't woken up yet.
We both come up gasping after the passage of
some very expressive moments. I go in for
a second helping, and she lets me, even
molding her body to mine this time. When I
hear her whimper, I ease up on the pressure,
and I think she must have heard me moan.
"You were so brave. I'll never forget you
and your bravery as long as I live," she
murmurs against my nose, as I shudder.
"Thank you, thank you...for protecting me."
Now, she needs protection from me....
"You're worth protecting," I stutter at her,
and she kisses the hook of my nose.
Slew-footed, I resume getting the door,
practically falling up the stairs. She passes
along with the tenderest of smiles splayed
on those soul-satisfying lips. God....she
gives beauty a whole new context. I go a little
dizzy, remembering how her lips tasted like
honied wine.
I join her on cloud nine where she's made room
for me.
~~oo~~
Dinner? All a blur; a bubbly blur, sans booze
which typically generates it. I was ridin'
high on the biggest feel good ever, with no
possibility of a nasty hangover to slap me down
next morning.
The singular thing I recall about the entire
restaurant experience was Lee and me playing
'handsies' beneath the table, gettin' totally
lost in a nebulous world we were constructing
with gentle caresses, playful squeezes and
some seriously sensual intertwining of fingers.
I almost came. Almost, but I excused myself,
made a mad dash for the Men's room, and
splashed cold water on my face several times
before returning to the table; returning to
the woman I would have kicked the crap out of
her attacker for if he'd even breathed on her
too hard.
We were at that table with a member of her
family, who was talking up and storm, and my
unconventional friends, but we were way gone.
My buds and the Fibbies were flinging
conversational 'shop talk' back and forth.
Lee and I inserted our input when called for,
but, aside from reacting interestedly enough,
we knew we were into mutual melding mode.
We didn't mention the incident. We didn't feel
any need to. Our secret. It was no secret how
I was beginning to feel about her....
During the ride back to Scully's, I had no
problem with Lee nestled in my lap, and
discreetly humming some Mexican ditty in my
ear. Her luxuriant mahogony-amber hair hung
like a bib about me.
Whatever the four of them had been thinking
mattered little to me, and I guess Lee too.
They all gave us odd looks; Scully most of
all, like I was treading on some very sacred
ground.
Like tough; we know something we're not
telling. Never seen two people click quick
before?
I had smiled as I thought about what I'd
thought when, earlier, she'd asked me if I
liked her singing.
....*She* sings like an angel....
Maybe one night I'll have her with me all
night, to sing in my ear, and hold me
tight....not tonight, d'uh, but maybe one in
the future. Dare I dare to hope?
All too soon, we’d pulled up in front of
Scully's building, and Lee whispered,
"Good-night," into my ear, but she looked
like she didn't wanna leave me, but what
choice did we have? Scully would have gutted
me if I had even made noises in that direction.
I think Lee wanted to kiss me again, too, but
she didn't. With the four of them heaping
squirrelly looks on us like we'd grown two
additional heads, apiece, we just shook hands.
~~oo~~
And, now....now, I'm lyin' here in my messy
bed, hands threaded underneath my head,
unable to fall asleep. I'm beyond freaked.
I'm all tingly again, after that second cold
shower, but it's not entirely the shower's
fault.
Our parting conversation loops over an' over
in my feverish brain like a treasured CD.
I hear her silky voice in my mind's ear, as
I stroke my cheek, wishing it were Lee doin'
it to me, instead, here and now; the way she'd
done in the van.
"Call me? Please?"
"Serious? You want me to? For real?"
"If you don't, I'll call you, Ringo..."
"Nah--I will. Uh, when do you leave for Miami?"
"The day after tomorrow."
"Sunday...huh?...like, maybe?"
"Maybe, what?"
"Maybe you'd...wanna go out with me tomorrow
night?"
"Oh, yes--certainly. But, call me tomorrow
morning--early. I'd like to spend the entire
day with you... Please?"
"The *whole* day?"
"I'd like that, unless you have other plans."
"No--no. I'm free; I'm like so free. Yeah.
Okay, tomorrow...we'll do the whole day, if
that's what you want..."
"It's what I want."
"Like, what time should I call?"
"You decide..."
The way she'd said *that* makes me smile all
over again as I think of it now.
I look over at the LCD on the cluttered night
table. It's 3:30 in the A.M. That's three
an' a half hours more to wait to make that call.
Two hundred and ten minutes to go, for my day
to be made....my tomorrows too....maybe. Yeah,
I know....I'm dreamin' with eyes wide open, but
can't help it.
I'm like so overwhelmed, man....by post aural
gratification and the way she let me kiss her
that second time. She left me wanting more....
so much more....
~~oo~~
End