3397 lines
198 KiB
Plaintext
3397 lines
198 KiB
Plaintext
From: matthewk@spot.Colorado.EDU (MATTHEWS-SIMMONS KELLIE)
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Date: Thu, 21 Jul 1994 04:45:17 GMT
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The story you are about to read contains SEX, written in loving detail.
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If that bothers you, either do NOT read this story, or get someone who
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doesn't mind erotica to black out all the juicy parts for you before you
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read it. If you're underage, get your parent's permission to read it.
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Don't flame me if you're silly enough to go ahead and read it after I
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warned you, and then get offended by it. --kms
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This story copyright 1994 by the author. Permission to distribute freely
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is given, provided you do not attempt to sell it. The X-Files is a
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trademark of Fox Television, characters not used by permission.
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Okay, now that all the official stuff is out of the way, let me make a
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brief comment. This story is a companion piece to "Gemma" and was written
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to appease all the GATB-er's who kept writing me to complain that Scully
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didn't "get any" in "Gemma." :-) It does NOT feature any romantic stuff
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between Our Heroes, but gives Dana a shot at someone completely different.
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And, as usual in my work, though it is erotica, it also has a plot.
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Enjoy.
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Kellie Matthews-Simmons//matthewk@ucsu.colorado.edu
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Member: SFLA&EBS, PSEB, DDEB, X-phile "Ego veno eos in vulcos minos."
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"Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of
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humiliation." --Fox Mulder, X-Files "Squeeze"
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Ancient Dreams, part 1.
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Kellie Matthews-Simmons
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Dana Scully leaned back in her seat with a sigh, looking out the
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window at the tarmac below the plane. God, she really needed this
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vacation. It had been a very, very long year. The settlement of her
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father's will and his bequest to her had given her the incentive she'd
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needed to take a bit of a break. She hadn't realized exactly what she was
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getting into when she'd accepted the task of working with Fox Mulder on
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the X-Files. It had been a rough year not only physically, but mentally
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and emotionally as well. In the end, her belief system had been as
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traumatized as her body had been on occasion. She shivered, thinking
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about how close she'd come to dying a couple of times. Both Eugene Tooms,
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and the damned prehistoric mites had almost gotten her. On top of that
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there was the humiliation of the time Mulder had almost had to peel her
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off the Kindred guy, Brother Andrew, because she couldn't resist his
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pheromones. She still burned with embarrassment whenever she remembered
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that incident... Mulder's comment about her "doing the wild thing with a
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total stranger" had stung more than it should have, though she knew
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objectively he had just been trying to lighten the situation.
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Thinking about cases reminded her that she'd meant to tell Mulder
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she'd left a new one in his inbox. He would never find it there, since he
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only went through it when it started to overflow. There was an airphone
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in the seat-back in front of her and she almost reached for it, then sat
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back, smiling wryly at herself. She just couldn't seem to leave work
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behind! He had enough on his hands, travelling to three states to check
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out reports of UFO's sighted around large defense contractor sites, and
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wouldn't be back for days. She'd drop him a postcard from the Shannon
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airport, he'd get it when he got back... provided the Irish postal service
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was at all reliable.
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She opened her book, a murder mystery, then closed it again. Just
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what she needed, more mystery! She should have taken that trashy romance
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Karen had offered her, that would have been better vacation fare. The
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only thing that had stopped her was that the last thing she needed was to
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feel any more frustrated than she already did. That was the other
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drawback to working with Mulder; she was attracted to him. She knew
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better, of course. He was maddeningly stubborn, annoyingly focused, and
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emotionally a mess, yet despite all that she found herself not only
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admiring him, but liking him as well. That was something she just
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couldn't afford. She had to work with him, and any hint of her attraction
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would make that impossible.
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Slightly raised voices told her there was some kind of problem
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three rows up from her own. A man and a woman were standing in the aisle
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with a flight attendant who was looking at tickets and seeming flustered.
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Scully eavesdropped unabashedly, and after a moment realized that as often
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happened, there had been a mixup in seat assignments. One of the people
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in the seats, and one of the people standing had the same assigned seat.
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The attendant had her seating chart out and was studying it, then she
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pointed, at the empty seat next to Scully. Dana sighed. So much for the
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unaccustomed luxury of flying with an empty seat beside her. She'd known
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it was too good to last. She pretended not to have noticed the commotion,
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as the attendant led someone toward the seat.
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"Here you are, sir. I'm so sorry about the misunderstanding. I hope
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this will work for you."
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"I'm sure it'll be fine," he said, softly, in a tantalizingly
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accented voice. "Would you look after my sister? Let me know if she
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needs aught?"
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Aught? How odd... Scully looked up to see the man staring toward
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his traveling companion with a look of concern. Now that her view was
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unobstructed, she could see that the woman removing her coat before
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sitting down was quite noticeably pregnant. She was startled to realize
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that except for what looked to be a ten-year difference in age, the man
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and woman could be twins. Both had hair of an unusual dark auburn, and
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deep-set eyes under sharply winged brows. They were both strikingly
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attractive. Neither would have looked out of place on the cover of a
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fashion magazine.
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"Should she be really be traveling in her condition? It's a long
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flight..." the attendant looked worriedly from the man to the woman, who
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had seated herself.
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The man chuckled. "She's not sick, just with child. She'll be
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fine, if a tad uncomfortable," the man reassured the attendant as he
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removed his calf-length coat and folded it before placing it in the
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overhead compartment. Dana caught a glimpse of the label and her eyebrows
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lifted: cashmere. It had probably cost him the equivalent of a month of
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her salary. She noticed with irritation that the compartment was an easy
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reach for him. She always had trouble getting her things into an
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overhead... unless she was traveling with Mulder and could make him do it
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for her. She didn't *feel* short, it always surprised her that she was.
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"You're sure she'll be all right? Her physician said she could
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travel?" The flight attendant, her name-tag said Johnston, was still
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worried. She looked young, and was probably new at her job.
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"Aye, she just needs to get home," the man took the attendant's
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hand and looked into her eyes. "She'll be fine, believe me," his voice
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was low and husky.
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Dana suppressed the urge to snicker as Ms. Johnston swayed toward
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him. Dana was sure he was very charismatic, but the woman didn't have to
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be so *obvious* about her attraction.
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"Of course she will," the young woman repeated, a bit dreamily.
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"Go on now, and see to the others."
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He let go of her hand. She stared at it for a moment, blinked,
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then an embarrassed blush spread over her face. "I'll... I'll just go
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start the final flight check now," she said, hurrying toward the galley.
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The man closed the overhead compartment and sat down next to
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Scully, trying to wedge his knees into the meager space between their bank
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of seats and the next. His arm brushed hers as he attempted to get
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comfortable in a seat made for someone more her size than his. She
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noticed that the fabric of his shirt had the rich gleam of silk, and he
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wore a massive gold Celtic interlace ring on the forefinger of his left
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hand. That was unusual, most men wore rings only on their ring fingers,
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or pinkies. His elbow nudged her, and she shifted aside to try to give
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him a little more room.
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"Sorry," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean to disturb you."
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Dana looked him full in the face for the first time, and suddenly
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understood Ms. Johnston's reaction. Her earlier assessment of him as
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striking was wrong, gleaned only from brief glances. Seen this close, he
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was one of the most attractive men she'd ever seen. He reminded her
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vaguely of someone, but she couldn't put her finger on who. He had broad,
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prominent cheekbones, a very straight, slightly blunt-tipped nose; his
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mouth was full-cut and sensual. But it was his eyes that were
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mesmerizing... a luminous, leafy green, fringed with utterly spectacular
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lashes. The slight lines around his eyes and the gentle lift to the
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corners of his mouth bespoke humor, and there was something about the
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flare of his nostrils that hinted of passions barely held in check.
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Caught and held by his gaze, her lips parted on a sigh, then she
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remembered herself and broke eye contact.
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"Oh, no, it's all right, I understand. It's difficult for someone
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of your height to travel coach."
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For just a moment he looked puzzled. "Coach? 'Tis no coa... ah,
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you mean the seats! Aye, usually we'd be up front, but t'was booked and
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we had to be on the flight. Eithne has to get home soon, the child must
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be born there," his gaze left her face, and his brows drew down in
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concern as he looked over the seat toward where his sister sat.
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"If it would set your mind at ease at all, I am a doctor. If
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there's any problem I should be able to help."
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His turned back to her, looking surprised. "You're a doctor?"
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Dana bristled a bit... she got awfully tired of that reaction.
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"Yes, I am. Why are you surprised?"
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"I thought... I... it seemed you..." he broke off, shaking his
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head with a rueful smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to offend. I'd thought
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you were in law enforcement of some kind."
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It was Scully's turn to be surprised, or rather shocked. "How did
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you know that?" she demanded.
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He looked a bit smug. "Then you are? I thought so."
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"But... how did you know?"
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He smiled and winked. "'Tis a talent of mine, being able to guess
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professions. A party trick of sorts. So, how does a doctor come to be in
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law enforcement?"
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"I do forensic and other work for the F.B.I., and I'd still like to
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know how you knew!"
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He shook his head, grinning. "Ah, that'd be giving away my secret,
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now wouldn't it? A man has to have some mystery."
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It was obvious he wasn't going to tell her. She glanced down to
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make sure she didn't still have her ID clipped to her lapel. She didn't.
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"It's a good trick," she admitted, giving up. "If you ever feel
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like telling me, I'd love to know."
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"If I ever feel like telling, you'll be the first, lass."
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Dana stiffened, then relaxed, realizing he didn't mean to be
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offensive. He probably called all women that. In another context she
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might have been irritated by it. Still, he was friendly, easy on the
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eyes, and had a delightful voice. She could do worse for a seat-mate.
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Their attention was drawn by the captain's voice telling them the flight
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was ready to depart. She checked her seat-belt, then noticed that her
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companion's belt wasn't fastened.
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"You'd better buckle up," she reminded him.
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He sighed. "Aye, it must be done," he shifted and fished the ends
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of the belt out, holding them by the fabric straps rather than by the
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buckles. He looked at the ends for a long moment, then slid his fingers
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up to the metal and fastened it in place with a quick snap. As soon as it
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clicked into place he yanked his hands away with a deep, shuddering
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breath, fingers curled, eyes closed as if in pain. Very odd. She glanced
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at his hands, and gasped.
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"My god! What did you do to your hands?"
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"'Tis nothing, just an... allergy."
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"To what? Those blisters look bad!"
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He opened his eyes and shook his head. "They'll be gone soon, they
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never last long."
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"But what caused them?"
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"I've a... metal allergy. I should've remembered to bring gloves."
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She stared at him, shaking her head. "A _metal_ allergy? I've
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never heard of such a thing."
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"Sure you have. Lots of people have it... no doubt you've had
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friends who could only wear gold or silver earrings?" he touched his left
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earlobe, or rather the thin gold ring that pierced it, for emphasis "'Tis
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the same, mine's just more severe."
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His movement drew her attention to his ears. If she hadn't spent
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the last year working on X-Files she probably would never have noticed
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them, but she had, and she did. They were *pointed*. Not tremendously,
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obviously, Mr. Spock-pointed, but just enough to be unusual. The fact
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that the poor light inside the plane gave his skin a faintly greenish cast
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that was even more pronounced next to the dark, rich mahogany of his hair
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made her notice the points even more. And once she'd noticed, her eyes
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were irresistibly drawn to them over and over again, until finally he
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caught her staring at him. She lowered her eyes in flustered
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embarrassment, but he just smiled.
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"'Tis okay, lass, it happens all the time."
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The languid lilt of his accent slid over her like silk. Lovely,
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though the colloquial American "okay" sounded quite odd said in those
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tones.
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"Back home they say our family's been touched by the Folk, because
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we've all got them. 'Tis a... genetic mutation, a dominant one, or so
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they tell me."
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"I really didn't mean to stare..." Scully began, but he cut her
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off with a wave of his hand.
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"I took no offense, I'm used to it. I didn't get to be the great
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age I am by taking offense when people look at me. My name's Fionnvarra
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MacCumhaill, by the by," he extended his hand.
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Finvara McCool? An odd name, that. She didn't see how she could
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politely decline, so she reached across and shook his hand. A tingle of
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warmth seemed to spread up her arm from where their palms touched.
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"I'm Dana Scully," she supplied withdrawing her hand as quickly as
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she could without being rude, and wondering what was the matter with
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herself.
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He studied her a moment, then nodded. "'Tis fitting."
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"What is?"
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"Your name, Dana. You're named for the Mother, and carry Her
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blessing."
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"What mother?"
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"The Mother, of the Tribes..." he smiled suddenly, and it almost
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took her breath away. "You don't have a clue what I'm on about, have
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you?"
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"I'm afraid not," she admitted.
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"Sorry, I sometime forget that there aren't many people who know
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the old stories. That's my work, I collect legends and folktales, and
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write them down, so they'll not be forgotten completely. The first of The
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Blood to take ship to Eire were called the Tuatha de Dannan... the
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Children of Dana."
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Something stirred in her memory. "Isn't that what the mythical
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ancestors of the Irish were called?"
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"You've heard of them? Good for you!'
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"So you're a folklorist?"
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"You could say that."
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She smiled. "Well, I'd never have guessed it."
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"What would you have said I do?"
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She studied him for a moment, and was her usual honest self.
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"Well... nothing, to be honest. You look like someone who doesn't have to
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work for a living."
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He chuckled. "Ah, so I look useless do I? Well, I see I've
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competition in the work-guessing field. You have me to rights. I've no
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need to work `for a living' as you so aptly put it. What I do, I do
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because someone needs to, before humankind flies headlong into the future
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and finds they've forgotten all the poetry and magic of the past." His
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gaze had grown distant, darkening. "And in that forgetting *we* lose all
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that we could be," he said, with peculiar emphasis, leaving Dana at a
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loss for words. He was a strange man... compelling, but definitely odd.
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He had closed his eyes momentarily, but they opened again as the
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plane began to taxi more quickly, picking up speed for the takeoff.
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"Damn, I hate this," he said, his hands clenching into fists. She
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almost winced, remembering the blisters on his palms. It must hurt.
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Suddenly she realized she'd just shaken his hand and felt not trace of
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blisters on the smooth, warm skin of his palm. She looked at his hands,
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trying to see if she was right, but they were still clenched so she
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couldn't tell.
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"Takeoffs and landings are always a little scary," she said,
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hoping that her commiseration would help.
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"Aye," he said grimly, tightlipped.
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The engines screamed as they reached maximum acceleration. The
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nose of the plane lifted into the air, followed seconds later by the rear
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wheels as the plane became airborne. Scully watched the ground receding
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and smiled, glad to be on her way. After a moment she turned to her
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seatmate and was startled to find him slumped laxly in his seat, eyes
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closed, and as pale as cream. Alarmed, Dana reached over and slid her
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fingers beneath the hollow of his jaw to find his pulse, and was relieved
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to find it strong, if a bit rapid. Suddenly she felt his muscles tense
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and his hand covered hers, his long, lean fingers holding her hand against
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his throat.
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"What do ye, maid... " he began, confusion written plainly on his
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face, then he looked around and seemed to shake himself, a flush painting
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its way across his cheekbones. "Ah, sorry. As I said, I hate takeoffs."
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"Don't feel too bad," Scully sympathized, easing her fingers out
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from beneath his, and trying to pretend her own pulse wasn't racing. "A
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lot of people are afraid of flying. I hear there are psychologists who
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specialize in helping people deal with phobias like that."
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He shook his head. "'Tisn't flying I fear, 'tis the damned plane.
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So much metal... when I loose all touch with the earth, 'tis overpowering
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for a moment. Forgive me if I frightened you."
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Dana shook her head, taking refuge in professionalism. "I was just
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concerned that you might be ill."
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He smiled disarmingly. "And grateful I am for that concern, I hope
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Eithne handled that better than I... there's a good chance that the child
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will have grounded her."
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Scully looked at him askance... what an odd thing to say! He
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seemed to realize it, too, for suddenly his gaze fell and he looked
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uncomfortable. She opened her book, and they didn't speak for quite
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awhile.
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####
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Fionn sat, as relaxed as he could be when surrounded by the burning
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cold of iron, no matter how annealed and alloyed it was. He could feel
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every steel part in the engine, every seat-belt, every rivet. He was
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surrounded by it. With a shudder he looked toward Eithne, felt her
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relaxation, and envied it. Carrying a child gave her human protections,
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buffered her from the shrill call of deadly metal. He had worn silk and
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wool, both of which helped dampen his sensitivity, but not enough. He
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silently cursed his sibling. Eithne had known she could not give birth in
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a foreign land, it was not their way, yet she had waited so long to return
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home that they had been forced to take human transportation. The child
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was too aware at this point to survive the translations of Folk
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travelways.
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Desperate for a distraction, he turned again to Dana Scully. She
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was reading... or at least she wished him to think she was. She hadn't
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turned a page in quite some time. The tiny frown between her brows, and
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the set of her full mouth told him she was troubled. He leaned back and
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closed his eyes, reaching out, trying to ignore the song of iron all
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around him, so he could hear her thoughts, thinking that perhaps he could
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steer the conversation toward whatever troubled her.
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An image formed. A man... tall, lean, attractive, very intense...
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he could see eyes, haunted eyes. That image led to a series of others,
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quick, tumbling on each-other. A feral flash of teeth and yellow eyes,
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strangely elongated fingers... her hand clasped around a man's wrist as
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she helped him escape that peculiar predator. Impossible lights in the
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sky, that man again, confused this time, lost, needing rescue; the fire of
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Dana's anger and indignation, a homely man in a rusty suit holding her
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hand, thumb caressing her, the flash of instant desire, then the sudden,
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angry presence of that first man again, forcing her away from the plain
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one.
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Fionn sat bolt upright with a gasp, staring at her. She jumped a
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little, startled by his movement.
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"Is something wrong?" she asked, her gaze concerned. "I...no, just
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a dream," he lied swiftly, still astonished by what he had sensed. Not
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only had this woman been involved in some very peculiar events, she'd been
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*sampled* by a young male of the Folk... one who had no training, or good
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sense, apparently. Not only had he sampled her, he had tried to englamour
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her as well, but clumsily, at levels that would have glamored one of the
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Folk, not just a human! Could he have not known that what he was doing
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was terribly dangerous to a human? Thankfully the encounter had been
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interrupted, or the woman next to him would not have survived. Yet he
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didn't know the male... his face was not familiar, his lineage unclear.
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Fionn couldn't find any recognizable kinship in the rather ordinary face
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he had drawn from her memories. Could there be Folk unknown to him?
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The thought intrigued him, but he could think of no way to get her
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to speak of the experience. She felt shamed by it, that much was clear.
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She didn't understand that her response had been as instinctive as an
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animal's. She only understood the humiliation of having her...(what was
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he to her?) the other man find her in such a state. Her feelings for that
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other man were what troubled her. She was uncertain of them, wanting it
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to be just friendship, yet her body reacted to his, and her gentle nature
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wanted to comfort him.
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His curiosity aroused, Fionn closed his eyes again and sent her an
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image of the first man, triggering another set of memories. Her partner,
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that's what he was! Her work-partner! She didn't wish to feel attraction
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to him because they worked together, and she thought it was unprofessional
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and imprudent to give way to them. Her thoughts turned to a new subject,
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and unabashedly he let her memories flood him; becoming more and more
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fascinated by her.
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She was so complex, so strong, yet so fragile at the same time. He
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was startled to feel insecurity that ran very deep, and the entangling
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threads of familial love. She felt she had let someone down, some family
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member... her... father! Yes! He became aware of a presence now, one
|
|
departed but not yet reconciled to it. He had things left unsaid...
|
|
things his daughter hungered to hear, things he hungered to speak. He
|
|
should have continued on his Journey long before now, but was trapped by
|
|
his need to communicate. Fionn reached out, gently.
|
|
//Tell me, unquiet one... tell me. I will find a way for your
|
|
words to reach her.//
|
|
Emotion jolted through him, bringing tears. He blinked them away,
|
|
stunned. It had been too many years since he had felt the sting of tears.
|
|
//Yes, I will tell her, I swear it. Rest now.//
|
|
The presence dissipated slowly, reluctantly. Fionn sighed,
|
|
wondering how best to keep his promise. The flight still had many more
|
|
hours yet, surely she would fall asleep at some point, and he could shape
|
|
her dreams. Thinking of the time left until they reached land again made
|
|
him conscious that the buckle on the safety-belt was beginning to burn
|
|
against his abdomen, despite the shielding layers of wool and silk. He
|
|
shifted uncomfortably and edged his fingers beneath the fiber straps,
|
|
lifting it away for a moment's relief, careful not to let the metal touch
|
|
his fingers.
|
|
"Do you need help with that?"
|
|
He looked up to find his seat-mate looking at him sympathetically,
|
|
and decided to take shameless advantage. He summoned up a sheepish smile
|
|
and nodded.
|
|
"I do, if you wouldn't mind. I've got to..." he let the sentence
|
|
trail off, hinting at bodily needs. She nodded, and reached over to
|
|
release the catch. Her fingers brushed his stomach, and he thought
|
|
momentarily about how nice it would be were she to do that less
|
|
perfunctorily. It had been a long time since he had taken a human lover.
|
|
Perhaps he would find her again once Eithne was safely home. Dana opened
|
|
the seat-belt and carefully tucked it to one side, with the buckle
|
|
dangling over the edge of the seat. To do that she had to touch his
|
|
thigh, and though her touch was impersonal, now that he was thinking of
|
|
her as a potential lover, it roused him slightly.
|
|
"Thank you," he said softly, lading his voice with more than
|
|
thanks.
|
|
Dana looked up, and he caught her gaze with his, letting his pupils
|
|
widen. Her own followed suit. When he had shaken hands with her he had
|
|
automatically sampled her, and he used that to weave a hint of glamour on
|
|
her, just enough to bring a flush to her cheeks. His eyes caressed her
|
|
mouth, loving the full softness of her lips. They parted, inviting him,
|
|
then she seemed to shake herself awake, as if from a dream, and she looked
|
|
away. He was impressed. She must be very strong- willed, for her to be
|
|
able shake off his influence so quickly. She would be challenging.
|
|
"Glad to help," she said neutrally, opening her book again. He
|
|
noticed her fingers were shaking and smiled. She wasn't as unaffected as
|
|
she pretended. He stood and made his way back to the lavatory, to lend
|
|
credence to his request for help.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dana watched Fionnvarra walk away, eyes lingering on the way his
|
|
expensive, tailored slacks fit over his rear. She wondered idly what he'd
|
|
look like without them, and her imagination took flight, filling in
|
|
details. Long, sleek muscles, firm, satiny skin, dark auburn curls
|
|
surrounding... Suddenly realizing what she was doing, she forced her gaze
|
|
back to her book, blushing hotly. What on earth was the matter with her?
|
|
The last time she'd reacted like this to a man was... she stopped and
|
|
thought about it for a moment. Never. It was never. Not with a *normal*
|
|
man, anyway. She still wasn't sure exactly what Brother Andrew had been,
|
|
but normal wasn't among the adjectives she might choose to describe him.
|
|
It didn't apply to Fionnvarra MacCumhaill either.
|
|
She made a disgusted face and shook her head. Working with Mulder
|
|
was beginning to get to her. Just because the man had an unusual allergy
|
|
and a rare genetic mutation didn't mean he was a candidate for an X-File!
|
|
Her reaction could be simply and easily explained... it had been more than
|
|
a year since she'd had a sexual relationship with a man, and her seat-mate
|
|
was an incredibly good-looking man. She was attracted to him for the most
|
|
basic of reasons... she was sexually frustrated. The answer wasn't
|
|
appealing, but it was logical.
|
|
For a moment she toyed with the idea of flirting with him, then she
|
|
sighed. Whatever skill she'd ever mastered at that had faded over years
|
|
of discipline and reserve. Her high-school and college years had been
|
|
spent in libraries and study-groups. Looking back on it with 20/20
|
|
hindsight, she could see that to some extent she had used studying as an
|
|
excuse to avoid social contact. Later, she had built a shield of cool
|
|
professionalism against the discrimination she encountered in medical
|
|
school, and that had isolated her as well. After that the rigid regimen
|
|
of the Academy had instilled its own unique signature to her interactions.
|
|
Now she was ready for more, and wasn't completely sure how to go about it
|
|
any more.
|
|
Movement in the aisle caught her eye, she watched the Irishman
|
|
return from the lavatory and stop beside his sister's seat to talk to her,
|
|
his face expressive. He was concerned about her, he *cared*, and it
|
|
showed. It was nice to see, reminding her of her own family. He stayed
|
|
there for several minutes, talking and laughing with her until the flight
|
|
attendants chased him back to his seat with the drink cart. He slid in
|
|
and sat down with a grin.
|
|
"She's after making the poor fool next to her frantic... she keeps
|
|
pretending she's having contractions, and he panics every time. I told
|
|
her to stop it, but I doubt she will."
|
|
Scully laughed with him. "Oh, that's cruel! I take it he's not
|
|
experienced?"
|
|
Fionnvarra shook his head. "He can't be more than seventeen, and I
|
|
doubt he's ever even been kissed, let alone fu..." he stopped abruptly,
|
|
looked at her apologetically, and continued "I mean, had any more direct
|
|
experience with a female."
|
|
Scully grinned, willing to let his slip go by, especially in light
|
|
of her thoughts a few moments earlier. "Poor thing," she commiserated.
|
|
"Did you set him straight?"
|
|
"Aye, and told her to stop teasing him, but I doubt she will. At
|
|
that stage she needs something to keep her mind off her discomfort. I
|
|
remember all too well how hellaciously uncomfortable it is to sit for long
|
|
periods of time when you're that far along."
|
|
Scully looked askance at him, wondering at his phrasing. The way
|
|
he'd said it was as if *he* had direct experience with pregnancy. Almost
|
|
as if in response to her thought, he grinned.
|
|
"Listen to me now! You'd think *I'd* had a child. I meant to say
|
|
that I remember my other sister's descriptions of that stage."
|
|
"Drinks?" The flight attendant asked, cheerily, interrupting them.
|
|
"Whiskey, straight." Fionn said instantly, then looked at Scully.
|
|
"Can I get you anything?"
|
|
She didn't usually indulge, let alone allow complete strangers to
|
|
buy her drinks, but what the hell? She was on vacation, wasn't she? And
|
|
he spent more money on clothes than she made in a month, he could afford
|
|
it. Ignoring the warning voice in her head that sounded annoyingly like
|
|
Mulder's, she nodded.
|
|
"I'll have a Bloody Mary, thanks."
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dana woke from a wonderfully comforting dream about her father to
|
|
find she was being gently shaken awake. She blinked sleepily at the man
|
|
next to her, wondering at the warmth in his gaze.
|
|
"Mmm? What's up?"
|
|
He smiled, a sensual curve of his mouth that made her want to find
|
|
out if it tasted as good as it looked. She looked away, flustered.
|
|
"We're almost there. I thought you'd like to take a look from up
|
|
here before we land."
|
|
"What? Oh!" She sat up and looked out the window, down through
|
|
wisps of cloud to an amazing greenness below. It dawned on her that the
|
|
land she was looking at was the exact color of her seatmate's eyes. A
|
|
thousand shades of green, woven into a subtly changing whole. It looked
|
|
like a postcard... green fields partitioned off by hedges, here and there
|
|
a narrow, meandering road or stream, the tiny white forms of grazing
|
|
sheep... it was incredibly pastoral. And incredibly *empty*. She was
|
|
used to looking down into the gray haze of urban sprawl when she flew
|
|
anywhere. She glanced up finally, and found him looking over her shoulder
|
|
hungrily, as if he wanted to consume the land beneath them. He caught her
|
|
glance and looked away, obviously embarrassed.
|
|
"You miss it, don't you?" she asked softly.
|
|
"Very much... I hadn't realized how much."
|
|
"I think we all feel that way about home, no matter where it is."
|
|
He nodded, eyes focused past her, she sat back in the seat to let
|
|
him look. After a moment he sighed, and sat back.
|
|
"Thank you."
|
|
"No, thank you for waking me. I'm glad I got to see it this way."
|
|
"I thought you might appreciate it. May I ask where you are going
|
|
once we've landed?"
|
|
Dana hid a smile... was he flirting with her? She thought perhaps
|
|
he was.
|
|
"I'm supposed to meet with a distant relative in a place called
|
|
Ardnaree, which I'm told is not too far from Sligo. But I've got nine
|
|
days, and I plan to enjoy every one of them, I thought I might just be a
|
|
tourist."
|
|
He smiled. "I'm sure you will. Are you driving?"
|
|
"Yes, I've arranged to rent a car."
|
|
"Wise choice, I think the tours are not for you. You'll enjoy
|
|
yourself more this way. Oddly, my home is not far from Inishcrone, just
|
|
off Killala Bay which is where you'll be, at Ardnaree. I know the area
|
|
well, if you'd like me to suggest some sights, or places to stay, unless
|
|
you're staying with your kin."
|
|
He *was* flirting with her! He was also scoping out her plans.
|
|
Ordinarily that would make her nervous, but for some reason she trusted
|
|
him. She smiled warmly.
|
|
"I will be staying with my great-aunt, so I don't need suggestions
|
|
on where to stay. I have a list of things to see that my travel agent
|
|
gave me, but I'd love to have some suggestions on what to see from a
|
|
native. I'm sure they would be much more reliable than what she gleaned
|
|
from a guidebook."
|
|
"Aye, since I don't take kickbacks," Fionn said sardonically.
|
|
"May I see your list?"
|
|
She got it out of her bag and handed it to him. He studied it with
|
|
drawn brows for a moment, then took a black and gold Montblanc fountain
|
|
pen out of his pocket. She almost whistled, the man must have more money
|
|
than he knew what to do with! She didn't know too many people who used
|
|
four-hundred-dollar pens. The heavily enamelled barrel gleamed as he
|
|
lined through a couple of the names and wrote in others, then handed it
|
|
back to her.
|
|
"Overall not a bad list, but I've noted two places I think you
|
|
would prefer. Your travel agent has good taste."
|
|
"I'll tell her that,"
|
|
"Sure, and she'll be thrilled, no?" he inquired with a grin that
|
|
took her breath away. She found herself grinning back.
|
|
"Sure and she will!" she replied, then blushed, suddenly afraid
|
|
he'd misinterpret her. "Oh, I didn't mean to make fun of your accent..."
|
|
"I know that, don't worry," he assured her.
|
|
She glanced out the window again, saw the glint of sun on a broad
|
|
expanse of water, as well as the rolling green fields, and turned back to
|
|
him. "You said we were almost there?"
|
|
"Aye, ten, maybe fifteen minutes."
|
|
"Where's Shannon?"
|
|
"The river? Right there... though 'tis really an estuary at this
|
|
point."
|
|
"No, I mean the city!"
|
|
He looked puzzled. "What city?"
|
|
"Shannon."
|
|
He smiled gently, understanding her query at last. "There is no
|
|
city called Shannon."
|
|
"I thought it was the Shannon airport."
|
|
"It is, but there's no city there. 'Tis midway between Ennis and
|
|
Limerick, if you're looking for the nearest city."
|
|
"Oh." She felt a bit chagrined at her own ignorance. "Then the
|
|
airport is in the middle of nowhere?"
|
|
He grinned. "Aye, but then, many would say that description suits
|
|
the entire country."
|
|
Dana looked out again at the pastoral emptiness and smiled. "I
|
|
think I'm going to like Ireland."
|
|
"I think you are, too," he said softly, and something in his voice
|
|
sent a shiver through her, stirring something inside her. She felt her
|
|
nipples tighten and was glad her blazer hid that response from him.
|
|
Perhaps it was a good thing they would be going their separate ways when
|
|
the plane landed. She wasn't accustomed to having this sort of reaction
|
|
to complete strangers! In this day and age, casual sex could be dangerous
|
|
in more than just the traditional sense, and she suspected it wouldn't
|
|
take much effort on his part to persuade her to it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
As Dana stood in line at the customs table, waiting her turn, she
|
|
realized that there were undercover agents scattered throughout the
|
|
terminal... they were as obvious to her as uniformed guards might be to
|
|
someone else. They reminded her forcibly of Secret Service agents. She
|
|
watched them surreptitiously talking into hidden microphones and listening
|
|
to hidden receivers, and wondered what was going on. When her turn came
|
|
she put her bags on the counter, and nodded in the general direction of
|
|
one of the dark-suited men.
|
|
"What's going on? Why is security so tight?"
|
|
The woman behind the counter eyed her suspiciously. "Why'd you
|
|
want to know?"
|
|
"I'm in that line of work myself, I was just curious."
|
|
"And what line of work might that be?"
|
|
"Law enforcement, of a sort."
|
|
"The F.B.I., to be precise?" the woman asked, smiling suddenly.
|
|
"Well... yes. How did you..." Dana stammered, feeling a bit
|
|
bewildered by this sudden surge of apparently psychic people.
|
|
"It's on y'r bag, dear."
|
|
Scully stared at the seal emblazoned on the side of her carry-on
|
|
and started to laugh. "I'd totally forgotten that was on there! So that's
|
|
how he knew! I wondered!"
|
|
"Who knew what?"
|
|
"The man who sat next to me on the plane guessed where I worked
|
|
and wouldn't tell me how he knew. Now I know! He must have seen my bag."
|
|
"Ah, he was after flirtin' with you, was he? Men!"
|
|
Scully chuckled. "Well, it wasn't so bad, he was very
|
|
good-looking. You probably noticed him when he came through here a bit
|
|
ahead of me, he and his sister. They're both tall, red-haired, very good
|
|
looking, the woman was quite pregnant."
|
|
The woman frowned thoughtfully, and looked up from her task,
|
|
feeling around in the bag for weapons. "I don't think I noticed them,
|
|
miss. Perhaps they were in the other queue."
|
|
"I saw them walk through, not ten minutes ago! Odd, now that I
|
|
think about it, they weren't stopped."
|
|
The customs agent laughed. "The Pope himself couldn't get through
|
|
here without bein' checked today, you must be mistaken. Perhaps you just
|
|
looked away at the wrong moment."
|
|
Dana was pretty sure she hadn't but she didn't want to argue about
|
|
it. "Perhaps so."
|
|
The woman smiled and closed her bag. "Have you anything to
|
|
declare?"
|
|
"No, nothing... but I would still like to know what's going on, why
|
|
security is so tight."
|
|
The woman looked right and left, then leaned forward, her voice
|
|
pitched conspiratorially. "Seein' as how you're a professional, I'll tell
|
|
you. The PM is comin' through here today. It's not been announced, but
|
|
he'll be here."
|
|
Well, that explained it all right. Scully summoned up a smile and
|
|
thanked the woman, asked directions to the car rental place, and went on.
|
|
A few minutes later, rental-car keys in hand, Dana emerged into the
|
|
parking lot and was stunned to realize how small the airport was... it was
|
|
tiny, really. To her amazement she noticed that on the other side of the
|
|
lot there was a little park-like area, within which three large stones
|
|
formed a dolmen... in an airport parking lot, of all places! Amazing! As
|
|
she studied the stones, she noticed Fionnvarra and his sister walking
|
|
toward the dolmen.
|
|
As she lifted her hand to wave, a car near them disintegrated into a
|
|
ball of fire. She cried out as the shockwave knocked her flat on the
|
|
ground. She felt heat and pressure as the blast roiled outward, but to
|
|
her utter amazement none of the glass or metal shrapnel touched her,
|
|
instead raining to the ground all around her as if she were under an
|
|
invisible umbrella.
|
|
As the thunder of the explosion died down, she lifted her head an
|
|
inch to see if it was safe to stand. There was a peculiar shimmer to the
|
|
air, not quite like a mirage, but similar. Stranger yet, she could see
|
|
Fionnvarra and Eithne, standing in the midst of licking flame and smoke.
|
|
She had to be hallucinating! There was no way it was possible! She
|
|
blinked, and the scene remained the same. Eithne and Fionnvarra stood
|
|
less than four feet from the mangled remains of the vehicle that had
|
|
exploded. Fionn had his arms outstretched, an expression of intense
|
|
concentration on his face. Dana gaped, dumbfounded. How could they still
|
|
be standing? It was impossible! They appeared completely unscathed!
|
|
There was movement behind Fionn, she watched in disbelief as a
|
|
figure emerged... from where? Where had she come from? She was just
|
|
*there* all of the sudden! A tall, red-haired woman, whose features
|
|
marked her unmistakably as kin to Fionn and Eithne, though her hair was a
|
|
lighter shade, and streaked with gray. She wore a long, loose yellow gown
|
|
that left her arms bare, held at the shoulders by huge disk-like clasps,
|
|
and cinched at the waist with a belt of linked disks. Dana gasped to
|
|
realize she wore no shoes, yet she walked unflinchingly over asphalt that
|
|
was on fire in places, and studded with broken glass and shards of twisted
|
|
metal! She put out her hands and made a gesture toward the burning
|
|
vehicle. The flames flickered, and died, leaving a cloud of oily black
|
|
smoke drifting upward.
|
|
Only then did Fionn let his arms fall, and he shuddered, visibly
|
|
exhausted. The woman in yellow turned and placed her palm against his
|
|
face, caressingly, and he seemed to recover a little. Dana noticed with
|
|
surprise that they were the same height... all three of them over six
|
|
feet. Eithne reached for the older woman and the trio embraced, like
|
|
family reunited, then turned and began to walk away from the wreckage.
|
|
"Miss? Miss? Are you hurt miss? Please, let me help you up...
|
|
there's an ambulance on its way..."
|
|
Scully dragged her attention back to the situation at hand and
|
|
slowly got to her knees, letting the man in the badly-fitting black suit,
|
|
and a radio receiver wire around his ear help her up. Suddenly the
|
|
parking lot was full of men in similar suits, with suspicious-looking
|
|
bulges that bespoke shoulder-holsters, all running to and fro, shouting
|
|
orders, looking like a bunch of ants whose nest had just been disturbed.
|
|
"I'm not hurt, thank you, just a little... dazed, I guess."
|
|
The man looked relieved, and sighed, running a hand through his
|
|
thinning sandy-colored hair. "Damned terrorists! We thought we had
|
|
security tight enough, but obviously something slipped past us. We're
|
|
lucky it wasn't worse, the fire seems to have died out on it's own. It
|
|
could've started a chain-reaction what with all these cars in the park!"
|
|
Dana refrained from mentioning the woman in the yellow gown, and
|
|
nodded. "Very lucky."
|
|
Glancing back toward Fionnvarra and the two women, she frowned and
|
|
looked around the parking lot. They were *gone*! Just... gone. How
|
|
could they have disappeared in the thirty seconds it had taken to get to
|
|
her feet?
|
|
"Did you just see three people over there?" she asked, pointing
|
|
toward the dolmen.
|
|
He shook his head, looking slightly puzzled. "No, miss, I didn't."
|
|
She sighed. "Somehow I didn't think so. I must be seeing things."
|
|
He looked at her, concerned. "Would you like to have a doctor take
|
|
a look at you?"
|
|
She smiled. "I am a doctor, and I'm fine, thanks."
|
|
"If you say so, miss, but I'd like to have someone look at you just
|
|
the same, if you don't mind. If anything were to happen to you later on,
|
|
because of this we'd be liable. Also, we'd like to ask you a few
|
|
questions, just routine, to see if you saw anything."
|
|
She almost laughed out loud. Saw anything? She'd seen plenty, but
|
|
nothing that made any sense, or that she was willing to tell anyone else.
|
|
They'd ship her back to America on the next flight out! She nodded
|
|
pleasantly at the man.
|
|
"I understand, liability, and all that. I'll see your doctor, but
|
|
I know what he'll say. There's nothing wrong with me. Lead on."
|
|
"I'll get your bags for you," he volunteered helpfully, picking
|
|
them up, and she reflected that there was at least one nice thing about
|
|
countries where they did things the old fashioned way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
From: matthewk@spot.Colorado.EDU (MATTHEWS-SIMMONS KELLIE)
|
|
Date: Thu, 21 Jul 1994 04:46:30 GMT
|
|
|
|
WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17 Rated!
|
|
WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17 Rated!
|
|
|
|
The story you are about to read contains SEX, written in loving detail.
|
|
If that bothers you, either do NOT read this story, or get someone who
|
|
doesn't mind erotica to black out all the juicy parts for you before you
|
|
read it. If you're underage, get your parent's permission to read it.
|
|
|
|
Don't flame me if you're silly enough to go ahead and read it after I
|
|
warned you, and then get offended by it. --kms
|
|
|
|
This story copyright 1994 by the author. Permission to distribute freely
|
|
is given, provided you do not attempt to sell it. The X-Files is a
|
|
trademark of Fox Television, characters not used by permission.
|
|
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons//matthewk@ucsu.colorado.edu
|
|
Member: SFLA&EBS, PSEB, DDEB, X-phile "Ego veno eos in vulcos minos."
|
|
"Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of
|
|
humiliation." --Fox Mulder, X-Files "Squeeze"
|
|
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Ancient Dreams, pt. 2
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons
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Fionn sagged against the seat of the coach, watching Naoise handle
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the reins and feeling completely exhausted after creating and maintaining
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a shield for Eithne and himself... and Dana Scully. Thankfully, he'd
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sensed the imminent explosion seconds before the force of the blast had
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escaped its confines, and had been able to work quickly enough to make a
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difference.
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In his mind's eye he could still see Dana Scully lying on the ground
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as he expanded his wards to enclose her, forcing the explosion to defy the
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laws of nature and bypass her. Trying to protect her as well as himself
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and Eithne had overextended him severely, but he couldn't let her be
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harmed. His mouth tightened. If he hadn't been so tired, he would have
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tracked the culprits who had planted that bomb, and marked them to deal
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with later. They had threatened the well-being of someone under his
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protection. He didn't want them to escape unchastised.
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"I've marked them for you, Fionn. You can find them later."
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He looked across at his eldest sibling and smiled. "Thank you,
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Banbha."
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She smiled back. "T'was no bother," her gaze sharpened as she
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studied him, and she lifted an eyebrow. "So, have you decided to mate
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again, or is she just your lover? It's been a long time since you did
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either."
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Nonplussed, he stared back at her. Finally he found his voice.
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"Neither, at this point, though 'tis none of your business. Why do you
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ask?"
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"You extended your protection to include her. I thought she must be
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important to you."
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He shook his head slowly. "She was kind to me on the flight, and I
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felt I should repay that, though I will admit she intrigues me. Humans
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have changed a great deal since the last time I knew one intimately. They
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are far more interesting and complex now."
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Banbha leaned forward, her gaze intense. "Our numbers grow ever
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fewer, Fionn. We need new blood. You should mate again." She looked at
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Eithne who had fallen asleep, and smiled. "Eithne's child will be the
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first in generations; it would be good to have another for it to grow up
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with."
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His mouth thinned. "If you're so anxious for new blood, why don't
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you take a mate?"
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Banbha's gaze grew dark with sorrow, and she looked away. "I have
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tried, Fionn, three times now, but I fear I am too old, or perhaps too
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much damaged. I can no longer Change, or Renew. I try and try, but it
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does not come."
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He stared at her, utterly shaken. "You can't... not at all?"
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She shook her head and lifted a hand to her hair, drawing a lock
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forward, displaying the wide streak of gray in it. "I can't even put my
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hair right any more. I fear... I fear sometimes that I'm dying."
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He reached over and took her hands in his. "Ah, Ban! I'm sorry...
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I didn't know, or I'd not have said what I did! What did you mean, you're
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too damaged?"
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She drew her hands away and stared sightlessly past him, gaze fixed
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on nothing. When she spoke, her voice was flat, almost emotionless. "Do
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you remember when the Rus grew careless and lost control of the little sun
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they had made? I was living only a few kilometers from the place. I
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thought nothing of it at first, but after a time I noticed I was aging
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more quickly than normal. I came home, and went to the Caverns then, and
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lay in the Earth and Water, dreamed of Air and Fire. I did not try to
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Change then, so I don't know if it was already too late. I prefer being
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female and chose to simply Renew. That was only five years ago, and now I
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look like this... and I cannot Change, or Renew. I think I am damaged,
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inside, where it does not show... or didn't until now."
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A tear slid down her face, then another. He leaned forward and drew
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her close, stroking her hair and saying soothing nonsense as his mind
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raced. Traveling the world for the past few years, studying the myths and
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legends of Humankind for traces of his own people's past, it had not
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occurred to him that anything Humans could do would harm them like this.
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How many of the Folk were damaged? He remembered reading that radiation
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released by the reactor accident at Chernobyl had been measured in fairly
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high quantities as far away as Wales... which was but a metaphorical
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stone's throw from the Land. Perhaps they had been far enough away that
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it had not hurt them... Banbha said she had been close to the source. He
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drew back, looking down at her.
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"Ban, has this happened to anyone else?"
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She looked at him blankly, and shook her head. "No... I don't think
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so, anyway. I don't know for sure."
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"We need to find out. This could be dangerous... not just for you,
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though you seem to be the most affected. Do we know where Aoife or Conn
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are?" At Banbha's negative head-shake, he swore. "Damn! None of the rest
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of us have enough knowledge of medicine or science to *do* anything about
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this!" He shook his head, fists clenched in frustration. "I've been
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studying words all these years when I should have been studying healing!
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We've been so complacent, thinking we didn't *need* to know it, that the
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Caves would always take care of our ills... but if this is beyond that,
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what do we do?"
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"I don't know," Banbha said, her voice bleak. Across the carriage
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Eithne stirred and stretched, yawning.
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"Sorry to fall asleep, she apologized. "I find myself constantly
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napping these days. Where are we?"
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Banbha summoned a smile from somewhere. "Near Oranmore, I think.
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We're making good time."
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For the first time in ages Fionn's pleasure in the thought of going
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home was dimmed. He was half afraid now, afraid to see what other changes
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awaited him there. Knowing Eithne would pick up on his somber mood, he
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forced himself to think of something else, something pleasant.
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The first pleasant thing that came to mind was Dana Scully, with her
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soft laugh, soft lips, and soft curves. He reached out, searching for
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her, found her back at the airport, sitting with feigned patience as she
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answered questions about the explosion asked by an apologetic man in an
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ill-fitting black suit. Though she kept it to herself, she was
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exasperated and wanted to leave. He didn't blame her, as he picked up on
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the fact that the delay meant she'd have to stay in Ennis for the night,
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throwing her plans awry. He smiled. Well, at least he could see to it
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that she would have pleasant dreams.
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####
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Dana lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall
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asleep. She was used to staying in strange places, and beds that weren't
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her own, but for some reason tonight was different. The cool, smooth
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sheets were comfortable, the bed decent, the room quiet and dark, yet she
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couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she started remembering,
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and remembering made her start to wonder about her sanity. That didn't
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last long, she was sure she was sane, but that troubled her even more. If
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she was sane, how did she explain what she had seen? Fionn apparently
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holding the explosion at bay like some wizard in a bad fantasy flick? A
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woman appearing out of nowhere, dressed like an extra from that same film,
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dousing flames with a gesture? It didn't make any sense! She wished
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desperately that she could call Mulder and talk to him about it... or even
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better, that he'd been there to see it himself. He'd make some silly joke
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about it to put her at ease, then tell her some bizarre tale that
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explained it... something she could pick apart, and research. Not knowing
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what she could possibly have witnessed made her feel inadequate. Not a
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feeling she liked in the slightest.
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She sighed and rolled onto her stomach, dragging the pillow into a
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more comfortable shape, and lay there staring at the wall instead of the
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ceiling for a change of pace. Maybe it was the time change. That could
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have... no. She couldn't lie to herself. She'd been a lot more tired on
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many previous occasions, and even total exhaustion had never given her
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hallucinations. A slight case of jetlag certainly wouldn't do it. She
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did *not* want to think about it any more. She wanted to sleep!
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Determined, she got up and searched her overnight case for the
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antihistamine tablets she'd put there for emergencies. Finding them, she
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took one, then followed it with two aspirin. If *that* didn't put her to
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sleep, nothing would. With a sigh she lay back down and stared at the
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ceiling again.
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Mulder. What would he do? He probably would have told the security
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guy at the airport exactly what he'd seen. He would have gotten Fionn's
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flight information from the manifest. He would have started asking
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questions. She'd done none of that. Why? Because she didn't want to
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believe? Because she wasn't open to `extreme possibilities?' Mulishly her
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jaw squared.
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"Because I'm on vacation, damnit!" she said aloud, to convince both
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herself, and the mental picture of Mulder who was looking at her with
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disappointment. "Leave me alone. I am on vacation!"
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She turned onto her side and closed her eyes with great
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determination. She was going to sleep. Now.
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####
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Fionn slipped into the room, unseen and silent. Of course, being
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able to walk through walls, in a manner of speaking, made it that much
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easier. He stood looking down at her as she slept, a bit disappointed to
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find her wearing pajamas. He had somehow envisioned her in silk and lace,
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or even better, in nothing at all. The almost prudish practicality of her
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nightwear surprised him, until he realized it was probably the result of
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having had her sleep interrupted with emergencies on a regular basis.
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He went lightly into her mind to see what she was dreaming, and
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was pleased. Now *that* he could work with. In her dreams she lay, as
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she did now, on her belly, but not alone, nor in prudish, practical
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pajamas. He frowned slightly as he recognised the man she dreamt of, even
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if she had not... that was why her dream-self faced away from him, her
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face against her arm as he caressed her. She didn't *want* to recognise
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him.
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"No, you don't want to be dreaming of him, now. I know you don't,
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you told yourself so. Dream of me instead, yes?"
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Fionn eased down beside her, and built a glamour, a strong one,
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remembering her resistance, but not strong enough to cause her distress.
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He wanted her to stay asleep, to know him only as a dream. That was
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always the easiest way with human women, at least in the past few
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centuries. They tended to be much less inhibited if they thought they
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were dreaming. He was a little out of practice with this, though it
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wasn't a skill one forgot, once learned.
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She stirred restlessly, and sighed, breathing the glamour deep,
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flooding herself with it. He watched her lips part, saw the gentle flush
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that painted her skin, and smiled. He insinuated himself into her dream,
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subtly altering the man's features until they reflected his own, and
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changing the setting to closer reflect reality, including the pajamas. In
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her dream, she suddenly relaxed. Changing her partner had done that...
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removing the undercurrent of guilty discomfort and allowing her natural
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sensuality to bloom.
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No longer passive, she turned, in dream and reality, and reached to
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embrace him. Fionn sighed, enjoying the soft warmth of her body against
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his. Carefully he opened the small buttons that closed her top, and
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spread it open, exposing her small, firm breasts. He cupped them, fingers
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teasing the pink nipples into rigidity, and lowered his mouth to taste her
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lips, savoring their fullness, and the sweetness they hid. His tongue
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flicked into her mouth and she moaned softly, arching against him, kissing
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him back with eager intensity. She trapped one of his thighs between
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hers, and he could feel the heat and dampness of her through the thin
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fabric of her pajama bottoms. His dream-self suggested that she would be
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more comfortable without them, and she reached down and slid them off,
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baring herself to him.
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She was a small woman, yet wonderfully rounded, with full hips and
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thighs. The soft down covering her mons was the same copper-gold as her
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hair. Why had he gone so long without women? How could he have forgotten
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how sweet they were? He moved his lips to her breast, licking and nipping
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the responsive peaks until she was squirming and breathless, then he
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kissed his way down the gentle curve of her belly. He loved the way she
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was built, no skinny, bony thing this... perhaps that was why he'd been so
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uninterested in human women of late. Their recent obsession with being
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skeletally thin and muscled like a plowhorse held no interest for him. It
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wasn't that he disliked strong women, but strength didn't have to mean
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masculinity. Dana was strong, he could feel the solidity of muscle
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beneath her skin, but she was also as soft and sleek as a seal.
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She reached down and freed his hair from the clasp that held it at
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the nape of his neck, and it spilled around his shoulders and onto her
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thighs. She laughed softly, and he was startled, fearing she was shaking
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off the glamour, but she hadn't. She still thought she was dreaming, but
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even in her dream the feather-light touch of his hair had tickled. She
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apparently had very sensitive skin. With a wicked smile and lowered his
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mouth to the inner curve of her thigh, just below the rise of her mons.
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She gasped and thrashed as his tongue, teeth and lips took full advantage
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of that sensitivity, teasing and tormenting her until she finally reached
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down and quite boldly placed him exactly where she wanted him.
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He waited a moment, teasing her, then he put his palms on her inner
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thighs and pressed them wider, which parted her. The subtle complexity of
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her scent surrounded him, exciting him. She was plump and hot and damp,
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aching for his touch. He gave it, a long, deep kiss, tounge slipping
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between, over, and finally into her. She arched and moaned, hands
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clutching his shoulders, proving that strength he had sensed. She was
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spicy and sweet, like nothing else on earth. He kissed her again, and
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again, tongue stroking and probing. He was suddenly fiercely aroused, as
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he hadn't been in decades. His body was shaking with need, hard, and
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ready for her. It was all he could do not to crawl up her body and bury
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himself deep inside her.
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Fionn backed away from her with a gasp, trying to control himself,
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and she moaned, protesting his abandonment. He drew a deep, ragged breath
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and wished for a moment that she wasn't glamoured, that she was conscious
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and doing this in reality rather than in a dream... but he knew she
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wouldn't be doing it at all if that were the case. She wasn't a woman who
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would share herself on a few hours acquaintence. He felt vaguely guilty
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at that thought, knowing he was violating her principles. His arousal
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fled, and for the first time in his life he felt ashamed of what he was.
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He had always felt a kind of amused superiority at being Folk, rather than
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human. Now suddenly he would trade his immortality to be the man she'd
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dreamed of voluntarily rather than a pathetic creature who had to steal
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and mold her dreams to include him. He had been ready to violate not just
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her principles, but her body.
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Disgusted with himself he rolled away from her and would have risen,
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but she whimpered softly and he felt even worse. He had brought her
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almost to the peak, then deserted her. He eased down again, and stroked
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her hair, dropping kisses on it.
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"I'm sorry sweet, I can't," he whispered as he took her hand and
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placed it between her thighs, urging her to complete what he'd started.
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She protested, wanting him back, but with a little mental nudge she
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gave in. He felt her body shudder and heard her sigh of release, and
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turned away, shaken to the core. His world was falling apart. His sister
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was dying... none of The Folk had ever died, not like that. Certainly
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they were vulnerable to accident and murder, but old age had never before
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claimed any of his kin. Now this... this guilt for simply being what he
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was? He'd lived centuries, and never before felt anything like this.
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Perhaps it was just that it had been so long since he'd taken a
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lover or mate, he thought, grasping at straws. He knew better though. He
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knew the real cause. Before the past ten years, he had never spent any
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appreciable amount of time with humans, never bothered to learn their
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mores and customs beyond the barest surface knowledge. Unfortunately now
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that he had, he was faced with the realization that what he had done with
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human women all his life could be seen as a form of rape. Just because he
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left them with a dream of pleasure received didn't mean it was less of a
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trespass. He drew the bedcovers gently up, tucking them around Dana's
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sleeping form, and left her alone.
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####
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Bright sunlight was pouring through the lace curtains when Dana
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awoke. Eyes closed, she stretched, feeling incredibly well- rested, and a
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strangely content. Mid-stretch, she suddenly realized something was
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amiss, and sat up with a gasp, looking down at herself. Her pajama top
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was completely unbuttoned, and the bottoms were missing altogether! A
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moment's searching yielded them in a wadded bundle under the covers and
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she sat there looking at them, trying to remember having removed them. As
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she did, memories of an incredibly erotic dream came flooding back, and
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she felt warmth rising in her face. Mulder? *And* Fionn? She must be
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more frustrated than she thought if she was unconsciously weaving sexual
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fantasies about both of them in one night.
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God! It had seemed so *real*! She could still almost feel the
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touch of fingers, lips and tounge against her skin, almost feel the
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spiderweb touch of long auburn hair on her thighs. The beginning of the
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dream, the part with Mulder in it, was less clear, almost fuzzy, but the
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*middle*, when her dream-lover had become Fionn, had been almost
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unbearably erotic! She `remembered' him opening her top in the dream, she
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must have done that herself, just as she remembered removing her pajama
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bottoms at his suggestion... his touch had been incredible! It was a
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shame that it had been a dream, because he'd aroused her more than any
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real lover she'd ever had. The end of the dream had been disappointing,
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though. As she thought about it, Dana felt annoyed. Why was it that even
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in her *dreams* she ended up alone? The words of one of her favorite
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songs echoed in her mind...
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"But I fear, I have nothing to give, I have so much to lose
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here in this lonely place; tangled up in our embrace, there's
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nothing I'd like better than to fall..."
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She made a face, disgusted at herself. If she was *dreaming* of
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mysterious lovers, maybe it was a sign that she needed to be more honest
|
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with herself, to acknowledge her sublimated needs and desires. She still
|
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couldn't allow herself to act on her feelings for Mulder, but the fact
|
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that in her dream he had become Fionn told her that it was possible that
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she was only fantasizing about him for lack of another candidate. She
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laughed at herself at that thought, knowing full well she was clutching at
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straws. However... that still left Fionn. Hadn't he said he lived not
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far from where she was going? Didn't she make her living tracking people
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down? In a place as small and sparsely populated as Ireland, how hard
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could it be to find an independently wealthy collector of folklore who was
|
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better looking than most movie stars?
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Smiling slightly, she swung her feet out of bed and something fell
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to the floor with a metallic chime. Puzzled, she reached down and picked
|
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up a small C-shaped gold band about three-quarters of an inch wide, its
|
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surface deeply incised with Celtic interlace. There were small holes in
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each end of it, and a eye-headed pin hung from a chain attached to it.
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She threaded the pin through the holes it was obviously meant to go
|
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through, and stared at it, trying to figure out what it was. It was too
|
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big to be a ring, and too small to be a bracelet, though it looked vaguely
|
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familiar. Perhaps the maid had dropped it when she'd made the bed.
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Dana got out of bed and set the object on the dresser, then looked
|
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in the mirror and laughed at her reflection. Her hair looked like she'd
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combed it with a blender. No way was she going to wander down the hall to
|
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the bathroom looking like that! Picking up her hairbrush she began to
|
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work it through the snarls, and stopped suddenly, as the weight and
|
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texture of hair in her hands triggered a memory. She let her hair fall,
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her eyes going to the golden object. She knew what it was now. It was
|
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the band that had held Fionn's hair back out of his face. She remembered
|
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unfastening it... in the dream. Yet here it was, as real, and solid as
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the hairbrush in her hand.
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"Oh my god..." she sat down on the bed, feeling a little weak in
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the knees. "Oh my god... he was *here*! It felt real because it *was*
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real!"
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She shuddered, angry and frightened. How had he gotten into her
|
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room? Why hadn't she awakened? Had he managed to drug her somehow? She
|
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didn't know *how* he'd done it, but he had obviously been in her room last
|
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night! She might not have been penetrated, but it was still rape as far
|
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as she was concerned! Furious, she stood up and started yanking clothes
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from her suitcase, dressing quickly. She was going to go talk to the
|
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management about the so-called security in this place, then she was going
|
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to hunt him down.
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####
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Two hours later she was in her car and on the road, feeling a
|
|
strange mixture of anger, confusion and embarrassment. Mrs. Murteach, the
|
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woman who ran the bed and breakfast, had convinced her there was no way
|
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anyone could have entered her room without someone knowing it. She had
|
|
been horrified at the thought that Dana might have been attacked in her
|
|
establishment, assuring her that nothing like that had *ever* happened.
|
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She had even called the night staff and questioned them, determining that
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no one had seen anyone who didn't belong there. But it wasn't until Dana
|
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had told Mrs. Muirteach that she'd met her assailant on the plane, and
|
|
mentioned his name, that things had truly gotten strange.
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|
"Fionvarra MacCumhail?" the woman had laughed. "Aye, he ought to be
|
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easy to find. Just visit any library."
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"I don't understand, what are you talking about?"
|
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"He was having you on. I suppose you could check the passenger
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manifest to see if he gave a real name there, but with only a false name
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to work from, you haven't a hope of locating him."
|
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"What makes you think it's a false name?"
|
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"Because there's not too many people around who'd dare name a child
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after a legendary hero-king of Ireland. The poor child would be a
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laughingstock!"
|
|
It had never occurred to her that he might have used a pseudonym.
|
|
She was reluctant to report the matter to the local police, since she had
|
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no proof that she'd been touched at all. Still... he had said he lived
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near Inishcrone, so she knew approximately *where* to look for him, and
|
|
his description surely wasn't that common. It wouldn't hurt to ask
|
|
around.
|
|
The worst part was that the more she thought about it the less
|
|
likely it seemed that he had really been there. The dream-like quality of
|
|
the experience had grown more and more pronounced the longer she was
|
|
awake. Once she was less shaken, it had dawned on her that the fact that
|
|
she'd dreamed about the hair clasp could just mean that she had noticed it
|
|
in the bed while in a half-waking state, and unconsciously incorporated it
|
|
into her dream. Stranger things had happened. She'd dreamed of Mulder,
|
|
too, and *he* certainly hadn't been in her room last night. The only
|
|
piece of evidence she had was completely circumstantial, and couldn't be
|
|
linked to her suspect since she hadn't noticed him wearing it on the
|
|
plane, only in the dream.
|
|
There was also the question of why someone like `Fionn' would risk
|
|
sneaking into her room and assaulting her. She knew that from a
|
|
psychological standpoint a man's looks and bank balance had nothing to do
|
|
with his potential as a rapist, but she was usually a good judge of
|
|
character, and nothing about him had triggered any warning at all. Of
|
|
course why would he have used a false name if there wasn't something a
|
|
little... off about him? And what the hell had that scene in the parking
|
|
lot been about? She just couldn't get the puzzle pieces to fit together.
|
|
She was even more determined to find him. If she could see him
|
|
face-to-face, see his reaction to her, she would *know* if she was losing
|
|
her mind, or if something much stranger was going on.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dana stopped the car and sighed, reaching yet again for the map.
|
|
"I'm lost," she said aloud, just to hear a voice. "How can I be lost in
|
|
a country smaller than Pennsylvania?"
|
|
She studied the map, shaking her head. She'd asked directions to
|
|
Ardnaree of a man in Ballina. He had told her to go south until she got
|
|
to the first crossroad past the town, then turn east and she couldn't miss
|
|
it, but if she got to Tobercurry she'd gone to far south and needed to
|
|
turn back. Well, she'd done that. Gone too far and turned back, then
|
|
gone all the way back nearly to Ballina again without finding a turn.
|
|
Finally she'd decided that what she thought was a sheep track must be the
|
|
road he'd meant and she took that.
|
|
She'd been right about sheep. Half a mile down the road she'd
|
|
encountered a flock of them. Most of them were grazing on either side of
|
|
the `road,' but two of them napping contentedly right in the middle of it.
|
|
It had taken a couple of blasts on the horn to get the stupid things to
|
|
move. She'd driven on another mile before stopping again, disheartened.
|
|
It would help matters a lot if the damned hedges weren't so high!
|
|
Irritated she dropped the map on the seat. She might as well be
|
|
looking at a map of Maryland for all the good it was doing her. She
|
|
opened the car door and stepped out. If she couldn't see over the hedges
|
|
from *inside* of the car, maybe she could see over them from on *top* of
|
|
it! She stepped onto the seat and boosted herself up onto the roof of the
|
|
car, then stood carefully and looked over the nearest hedge. Beyond it
|
|
lay a field of still-green grain of some type. She didn't think it was
|
|
wheat, but wasn't entirely sure what it was. Looking to the hedge on her
|
|
right, her jaw dropped. A similar field lay on that side, but a
|
|
disturbingly familiar sigil had been stamped into the grain, laying it
|
|
flat in a clockwise whorl of stalks. A crop circle? The only time she'd
|
|
ever seen one was in the field at the Kindred farm. As she gaped, a voice
|
|
spoke from behind her.
|
|
"You wouldn't happen to be Dana Scully, now would you?"
|
|
She gasped and almost fell off the car. After regaining her balance
|
|
she turned to find a tiny woman standing a few feet from the car, flanked
|
|
by a pair of huge, shaggy dogs that were almost as big as she was.
|
|
"I am," Dana managed to acknowledge. "How did you...?"
|
|
The woman smiled. "We don't get many visitors. I'm Maire Desmond.
|
|
Please call me Maire."
|
|
Dana stared, stunned. *This* was her eighty-year-old great-aunt
|
|
Maire? This tiny, slim woman in a gray tweed jacket and khakis', with
|
|
masses of silver hair braided in an elaborate coronet? This woman who
|
|
looked *possibly* sixty-five, maybe seventy at a stretch, but never in a
|
|
million years eighty? This woman whose sharp hazel gaze was as bright and
|
|
unclouded as a teenager's? She realized she must look like an idiot and
|
|
carefully climbed down from the roof of the car. She stood uncertainly
|
|
for a moment, cautious about the dogs. Maire noted her caution and
|
|
smiled.
|
|
"Hold out your hands, palm out, so they can smell you."
|
|
Dana complied. Maire spoke to the dogs softly and they edged
|
|
forward slowly and sniffed her hands. To her surprise, they both lay down
|
|
at her feet, whining. One, a female, rolled onto her back presenting her
|
|
vulnerable belly. Maire whistled.
|
|
"Now that's odd... she's usually quite the dominant one. I guess
|
|
she feels you're the alpha female here. Brenna, up now."
|
|
The dog immediately bounded to her feet, accompanied by the male,
|
|
and they retreated to Maire's side where they eyed Dana worriedly.
|
|
"Well now, aren't you both actin' quite strange today? What's got
|
|
you all upset?" Maire asked the dogs, as if they could reply. She
|
|
ruffled their ears and turned back to Dana. "Anyway, Dana, I thought I
|
|
ought to come out and find you when you weren't here by tea-time. I
|
|
thought perhaps you were having trouble finding us."
|
|
"Thank you, to be frank, I was. And I'm so happy to meet you! Dad
|
|
told me so much about you."
|
|
"Aye, and he wrote me many a letter praising you as well. Have you
|
|
room in there for Angus and Brenna?"
|
|
Dana looked dubiously at the back seat, wondering if it would cost
|
|
her extra to have paw-prints cleaned off the upholstery. She decided to
|
|
chance it.
|
|
"I think they might just fit. What kind of dog are they?"
|
|
Maire smiled. "Irish wolfhounds, of course. Lovely aren't they?"
|
|
"Quite," Dana lied, opening the door. Maire spoke a phrase in
|
|
Gaelic and the dogs trotted obediently to the car and arranged themselves
|
|
on the back seat. Maire stepped forward and took Dana's hand between
|
|
hers.
|
|
"I'm so pleased you came to see me," she said, her voice low and
|
|
soft. "Your father was always my favorite nephew, and I was so sorry to
|
|
hear of his loss. 'Tis a sad thing to outlive your children, and I always
|
|
liked to think of him as mine, though he rarely got to visit me in recent
|
|
years. I wish I'd not been such a world-traveller in my younger days, so
|
|
he could have been with me more."
|
|
Dana felt an immediate kinship with the older woman, and her eyes
|
|
teared up a bit as she thought of her father. "H-he told me a lot of
|
|
stories about his visits with you. He loved it here, he always said it
|
|
was a haven for him, the only place where he didn't have to hear his
|
|
parents fighting."
|
|
Maire looked more her true age suddenly. "Aye, proper fools those
|
|
two were. In love and out of it as often as frogs jumping. It was hard
|
|
on him. I'm glad I was able to provide him a place of peace now and
|
|
then."
|
|
"He... he asked me to give you..."
|
|
Maire shook her head, pressing her hand again before releasing it.
|
|
"Not now, lass. Let's get home and get a pot of tea goin', then we'll
|
|
have a proper talk."
|
|
Dana nodded and went around to open the passenger door for Maire
|
|
before getting into the car and starting it. Maire gestured toward the
|
|
road.
|
|
"Go on straight for a bit now, and there'll come a branch. Take the
|
|
left fork."
|
|
Dana nodded and put the car in gear. They drove for awhile in
|
|
silence, then Maire spoke.
|
|
"Something's troubling you, lass. What is it?"
|
|
"I... nothing. I just didn't sleep well last night."
|
|
"Na, that's not it," Maire said, definitively. "I sense a man in
|
|
this, maybe two men... wait..." she stared at Dana for a long moment,
|
|
looked at the dogs, then back at Dana. She reached across and lifted one
|
|
of Dana's hands from the steering wheel and drew it toward her, sniffing
|
|
audibly. Her eyes widened. "Ah, no! You too? I'd thought I was the
|
|
last, it still runs in the family, I see! What's his name, your Faerie
|
|
lover?"
|
|
Dana turned and stared at her, mouth open slightly in surprise.
|
|
"What did you say?" she managed after a moment of stunned silence.
|
|
"He was with you last night, the dogs smelled him on you first, and
|
|
I can still smell him, faintly. I know the scent of a Fey, even after all
|
|
these years, I can still remember..." her voice trailed off as she
|
|
reminisced for a moment.
|
|
If she hadn't been saying something uncomfortably close to the truth
|
|
Dana would have wondered if her great-aunt was less competent than she had
|
|
first seemed. But recent experience had taught her to be more open
|
|
minded. She steered the car toward the side of the road and stopped it.
|
|
"Please... what... what do you know?"
|
|
"I know he came to you last night. I know you're troubled by it. I
|
|
know he seemed like a dream, but also like reality. I know you've never
|
|
had another lover like him."
|
|
"*How* do you know that?"
|
|
Maire looked at her, eyes clear and unshadowed. "It happened to me
|
|
once, a very long time ago. I was your age, or less. What was his name?"
|
|
"I don't know."
|
|
"They always tell you their name, 'tis their custom. He must have
|
|
told you."
|
|
"He gave me a name, but it couldn't be his real name..." Dana
|
|
whispered.
|
|
"What was it?" the old woman's gaze was intent, her voice tight.
|
|
"Fionnvarra MacCumhaill."
|
|
Maire closed her eyes and sighed in obvious relief. "T'wasn't the
|
|
same one. I don't think I could have borne that."
|
|
"Please, Maire! Explain! I have to know what's going on!"
|
|
Maire opened her eyes. "I'll tell you all I know, but drive on,
|
|
Dana. I need that tea, it's a long story."
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
It was a long story, and it left Dana doubting her own sanity as
|
|
well as her aunt's. But in a bizarre sort of way, it made sense. She
|
|
kept telling herself to be open minded, reminding herself of some of the
|
|
inexplicable things she had seen over the past year. The story was no
|
|
more implausible than any of those. She took a long sip of her tea, and
|
|
then a deep breath.
|
|
"So, you're saying these... `Gentry' as you call them... are real?
|
|
That they live here, and everyone here knows about it and thinks it's
|
|
perfectly normal?"
|
|
Maire laughed. "Well, perhaps not normal, but accepted. Just as
|
|
you'd accept it if your neighbor happened to have twelve cats. It's odd,
|
|
but there's not much you can do about it, and they're harmless enough."
|
|
Dana bristled at that. "How can you call rape harmless?"
|
|
Maire looked at her askance. "I wouldn't call it that. It seems to
|
|
me it was seduction."
|
|
"I wouldn't."
|
|
"Perhaps that's why he left you, then. They're not cruel, or evil,
|
|
Dana. They never come to those who haven't in some way called them to
|
|
come."
|
|
Dana found herself fascinated by the loose tea leaves floating in
|
|
her cup. Had she wanted him to come to her? Could she truthfully answer
|
|
that question in the negative? If he had come to her when she was awake,
|
|
and asked to make love with her, would she have allowed him to? She
|
|
wasn't sure. She couldn't deny that she'd briefly imagined him as a
|
|
lover, or that she had felt a very physical interest in him. She pushed
|
|
that aside.
|
|
"But what do they get out of it? Why do they do it?"
|
|
Maire grinned. "Need you ask?"
|
|
Dana blushed at the implication, and shook her head. "I mean
|
|
besides that!"
|
|
"Who knows? One thing's for sure, they've been Visitin' for time
|
|
out of mind."
|
|
"But I met him on a *plane*, for heaven's sake! Why would he have
|
|
been in America?"
|
|
"I've never heard of them traveling so, but perhaps they have
|
|
interests in this world that we know naught of. Did he speak with you?
|
|
What did he say, what was he like?"
|
|
"I thought he was quite... normal. He dressed well, very well in
|
|
fact. Expensively. I liked him, he was easy to talk to, though a little
|
|
odd at times. He told me he was a folklorist... collecting legends and
|
|
stories. He said... he said that he had to do it, before all the poetry
|
|
and magic was forgotten."
|
|
Maire's face softened, her eyes growing distant. "Aye, they would
|
|
have that need. They themselves are poetry and magic, and like legends,
|
|
they also are all but forgotten."
|
|
Dana thought about that and found it very sad, for a moment. Then
|
|
she wondered what on earth she was thinking of, believing it for even a
|
|
second! It was too outrageous and bizarre to be real... But... what else
|
|
could explain how they had survived that explosion in the parking lot?
|
|
What else could explain a woman appearing out of no where? What else
|
|
could explain the hair clasp in her bed? Thinking of that suddenly
|
|
reminded her of his reaction to metal on the plane.
|
|
"You know, there was something else odd about him... he said he was
|
|
allergic to metal... to some metals, at least. He wore a gold earring,
|
|
but he couldn't touch the seat-belt clasp because it blistered his
|
|
fingers. I saw it happen."
|
|
"Was it iron?"
|
|
"Well, it was stainless steel, which I think is an alloy of iron and
|
|
carbon."
|
|
Maire nodded sagely. "They can't bear the touch of it. 'Tis said
|
|
to be the only thing that will kill them."
|
|
Dana shuddered, unnerved. "Maire, this is crazy!"
|
|
"I know, lass, but... 'tis Ireland."
|
|
"It's just another country, not another world!"
|
|
Maire looked at her in silence for a long time, and finally smiled
|
|
cryptically. "Don't be so sure about that."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
--
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
|
|
From: matthewk@spot.Colorado.EDU (MATTHEWS-SIMMONS KELLIE)
|
|
Date: Thu, 21 Jul 1994 04:47:53 GMT
|
|
|
|
|
|
WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17 Rated!
|
|
WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17 Rated!
|
|
|
|
The story you are about to read contains SEX, written in loving detail.
|
|
If that bothers you, either do NOT read this story, or get someone who
|
|
doesn't mind erotica to black out all the juicy parts for you before you
|
|
read it. If you're underage, get your parent's permission to read it.
|
|
|
|
Don't flame me if you're silly enough to go ahead and read it after I
|
|
warned you, and then get offended by it. --kms
|
|
|
|
This story copyright 1994 by the author. Permission to distribute freely
|
|
is given, provided you do not attempt to sell it. The X-Files is a
|
|
trademark of Fox Television, characters not used by permission.
|
|
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons//matthewk@ucsu.colorado.edu
|
|
Member: SFLA&EBS, PSEB, DDEB, X-phile "Ego veno eos in vulcos minos."
|
|
"Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of
|
|
humiliation." --Fox Mulder, X-Files "Squeeze"
|
|
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Ancient Dreams, pt. 3
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
|
|
Dana remembered those words when she woke the next morning and
|
|
looked out at the misty landscape. The humidity had created ground-fog,
|
|
and it swirled eerily around the cottage, making it look as if it were
|
|
decorated for a Halloween party, though it was nearly midsummer. It did
|
|
look like another world. She shivered, though it wasn't cold. There was
|
|
something strange about Ireland. Since before she'd arrived she'd been
|
|
plagued by as many odd goings-on as she would have had she been back at
|
|
work tracking psychic serial killers and the like. She'd hoped to get
|
|
away from such things, not run headlong into them. Thankfully, though,
|
|
her dreams had been ordinary, mundane dreams, with no seductive Elves...
|
|
or partners for that matter. She told herself that was a relief, that she
|
|
didn't particularly want to dream of either. Her self-assurances rang a
|
|
little hollow, though.
|
|
She heard noises from the kitchen, and smelled something incredibly
|
|
appetizing. Fresh bread? She dressed quickly, hoping to help with
|
|
whatever needed doing. Though Maire was amazingly young for her age, she
|
|
*was* in her eighties and Dana felt gulty letting her do all the work. As
|
|
she left her room, Maire looked up from the stove where she was stirring
|
|
something in a pot, and smiled.
|
|
"You look rested."
|
|
"I am, I slept well, very well, in fact."
|
|
"I thought you would. I put up a charm for you."
|
|
"A charm?" Dana was taken aback by that.
|
|
Maire smiled. "I've shocked you now. Yes, a charm. I placed two
|
|
iron nails across your windowsill to keep the Folk away from you. You
|
|
needed a good night's rest."
|
|
"I hardly think a couple of nails would keep anyone away if they
|
|
were determined to enter, Maire."
|
|
"No, it wouldn't, but they respect the old customs."
|
|
"I see," Dana hid her smile, "Thank you, then."
|
|
"You're welcome. I thought I'd give you a traditional breakfast
|
|
today, I hope you like oatmeal."
|
|
"I... it's... alright," Dana said, trying to summon up some
|
|
enthusiasm. Oatmeal had never been her favorite dish.
|
|
Maire laughed. "I can see you've only had that pasty stuff they
|
|
call oatmeal in America, haven't you? You'll like this better. It's as
|
|
different as night and day."
|
|
"That sounds promising."
|
|
"It is, and I made soda bread fresh, too. Cut yourself a slice,
|
|
it's there on the table."
|
|
Dana cut a large hunk off the round loaf, taking the heel that was
|
|
her favorite part, and buttered it thickly, feeling decadent. At home she
|
|
rarely ate butter... too much fat and calories. Irish butter was pale and
|
|
unsalted, and melted on the hot bread in creamy runnels. She took a bite
|
|
and sighed in pleasure as the taste of wheat and raisins and caraway
|
|
filled her mouth.
|
|
"This is wonderful!" she said, around a second bite. Maire
|
|
grinned.
|
|
"Glad you like it. The kettle's hot now, why don't you make tea?
|
|
Tea things are in the cupboard there."
|
|
Dana nodded and got out the teapot, measured dark, smoky-smelling
|
|
tea-leaves into it, then filled it with hot water to steep. Something
|
|
about making tea was relaxing, possibly that it was a sort of ritual. Not
|
|
quite as ceremonial as a Japanese tea ceremony, but still recognizably
|
|
ritual. A few moments later she poured the tea into two mugs across a
|
|
pierced silver spoon that Maire handed to her. As Dana emptied soggy
|
|
tea-leaves from it and rinsed it out, she stroked the deeply modeled
|
|
pattern on the handle of the spoon, tracing the interlaced lines.
|
|
"This is beautiful," she said softly.
|
|
"Aye, it was a gift."
|
|
Something about Maire's faraway smile made Dana curious.
|
|
"From a suitor?"
|
|
Maire looked at her oddly, and shook her head. "No, I'd not call
|
|
him that."
|
|
Dana almost dropped it. "This was from him?"
|
|
"Aye. They always leave a gift, the last time."
|
|
Dana scowled. "That sounds awfully close to payment."
|
|
Maire sighed, shaking her head. "Nay, lass. 'Tis not that at all.
|
|
You must stop judging them by human standards."
|
|
"I can't help it, they're the only standards I have."
|
|
"Then perhaps you need to be more open minded," Maire stated
|
|
flatly.
|
|
Anger washed through her and she almost snapped at Maire, then she
|
|
let it go. There was no point in being angry with her. "Mulder's always
|
|
telling me that, too."
|
|
"Who's Mulder?"
|
|
"My partner."
|
|
"He sounds like he's got a good head on his shoulders."
|
|
Dana laughed. "I wouldn't go that far."
|
|
"Tell me about him."
|
|
Dana sighed. "He's a bit *too* open minded, actually. I might
|
|
even call him gullible."
|
|
"Why is that?"
|
|
"Because he... believes. In *everything*. Aliens, werewolves,
|
|
mutants; you name it. He believes in it all."
|
|
Maire looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. "Ah, child.
|
|
You've lost your sense of wonder, haven't you? And he still has his, and
|
|
it hurts."
|
|
Dana opened her mouth to rebut her, and stopped suddenly. She
|
|
couldn't. It was true. Feeling unaccountably sad, she sipped her tea in
|
|
silence for a moment, then looked up.
|
|
"So, where should I go today to see something historical?"
|
|
"Go to Sligo, to Queen Medbh's tomb. You'll like that."
|
|
"Sounds perfect, would you like to come?"
|
|
"Na, I've things to do here, you go on. I'll have a cold supper
|
|
for you when you get back."
|
|
"You don't have to do that!"
|
|
"I know, that's what makes it fun." Maire smiled. "Get bowls,
|
|
would you? The oatmeal's ready."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
|
|
Even though she'd spent the day hiking around neolithic barrows and
|
|
fields of dolmens all day, by bed-time Dana was still wide awake. Maire
|
|
was dozing by the fireplace with a book held loosely in her fingers, the
|
|
dogs at her feet. Dana made herself a sandwich from leftover ham, cheese
|
|
and bread, and sat at the table, eating and wondering what she could do to
|
|
make herself sleepy. She cleaned up the dishes and was trying to decide
|
|
if she should wake up Maire just to have her go to bed when suddenly the
|
|
dogs got to their feet and began to whine, staring at the door. She
|
|
looked at them, a little uneasy. Did they need to go out? Probably. She
|
|
got up and went to the door, reaching for the doorknob just as a knock
|
|
sounded.
|
|
She jumped about a foot, startled. She hadn't expected anyone to
|
|
be out after dark out in the boondocks. That must be what the dogs were
|
|
whining about; they had sensed the visitor. They didn't seem afraid or
|
|
alarmed, so they probably knew whoever it was. She looked at Maire
|
|
sleeping by the fire, and decided not to wake her; instead going to the
|
|
door and opening it herself. The light fell on the caller's face and she
|
|
gasped.
|
|
"You!"
|
|
Fionn had the good grace to look faintly embarrassed as he nodded.
|
|
"Hello Dana."
|
|
"What are you doing here?" Dana snapped curtly, resisting the
|
|
urge to slam the door in his face.
|
|
"I... we need your help."
|
|
That surprised her. "What do you mean?"
|
|
"You're a doctor, we need one."
|
|
"Why? Is someone injured?"
|
|
"Eithne's child, something's wrong, its coming early and the birth
|
|
isn't going as it should, but our own midwife is in the Earth now, and
|
|
none of us are trained to help."
|
|
"I'm not an obstetrician, why don't you take her to the nearest
|
|
hospital?"
|
|
Fionn looked at her a bit disdainfully. "You know the answer to
|
|
that, I know your aunt told you about us. We can't risk a hospital! The
|
|
others would not even risk you, but I have some foolish notion that you
|
|
can be trusted."
|
|
Dana found herself gaping. Fionvarra trusted her? To deliver a
|
|
non-human child? Why? She shook her head.
|
|
"I don't think I can help you..."
|
|
Anguish lit his face as she reached out and caught Dana's hands in
|
|
hers. "Please, Dana, you must... there's no one else! Without someone's
|
|
help, they both will die! We're not that different from you, not in this.
|
|
I swear it!"
|
|
Scully hesitated, feeling torn. She wasn't prepared and she knew
|
|
it. Not only was childbirth something she knew only academically, but
|
|
these people might not even be *human*! On the other hand, if someone was
|
|
really in trouble, and had no one else... how could she refuse to help?
|
|
It went against everything she believed in. Finally she nodded.
|
|
"If I can help, I will, but I'm afraid I've assisted in delivering
|
|
exactly one baby in my career, and that was in a hospital setting with
|
|
help from specialists."
|
|
The expression of relief that flooded Fionn's face told Dana she
|
|
was doing the right thing. "Whatever you know will be more than we do,
|
|
and I thank you now for making the attempt, whatever the outcome. We must
|
|
hurry now, come!"
|
|
"I have to get my stuff..."
|
|
He nodded and waited outside while Dana dashed for her suitcase.
|
|
She had a small kit she carried for emergencies, it would have to do. As
|
|
she came out, she stopped to waken Maire to let her know what she was
|
|
doing, but found her already awake, and watching Fionn with interest. At
|
|
Dana's touch on her shoulder, she looked up and smiled.
|
|
"Is that him?"
|
|
Dana nodded, and Maire grinned. "He's lovely. And for what it's
|
|
wirth, I think you're doing the right thing. Earn their thanks and you'll
|
|
not regret it."
|
|
"But Maire... what if I can't help?"
|
|
"Then you can't, but at least you'll have tried. I have a good
|
|
feeling about it, though."
|
|
"I hope you're right," Dana said under her breath as she hurried
|
|
out the door, and stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the huge black
|
|
creature that waited outside the door.
|
|
"That's a *horse*!"
|
|
"Aye," Fionn said, sounding amused.
|
|
"You can't expect me to..." Dana's voice trailed off. She was
|
|
afraid of horses. She had been ever since she'd been on a vacation trail-
|
|
ride when she was nine, and the horse they'd given her had dumped her into
|
|
a creek.
|
|
"I'll not let you be harmed. I'll be with you."
|
|
"I..." she clenched her teeth. "Can't I drive us?"
|
|
"It's not a place you can reach in a machine. Let me help you up."
|
|
Dana belatedly noticed there was no saddle, and no bridle... how
|
|
the hell did he expect to control the animal? He moved behind her and his
|
|
hands closed on her waist, then he was lifting her up, and she awkwardly
|
|
swung a leg across the horse, straddling it. The horse was damn big, and
|
|
she felt a little dizzy looking down. A moment later Fionn mounted behind
|
|
her, one of his arms going around her waist to draw her firmly back
|
|
against him. She tried to pretend she didn't notice the hard breadth of
|
|
his chest against his back, the way his thighs lay alongside hers, the
|
|
consciousness of the way her buttocks pressed intimately into his groin...
|
|
a wash of heat went through her.
|
|
"Ready?" he said softly in her ear. She nodded, and he tightened
|
|
his arm around her in a kind of hug.
|
|
"You're a brave woman."
|
|
"When I have to be," Dana acknowledged with a wry grimace. "I
|
|
guess I'm ready."
|
|
"Then we go," he spoke softly to the animal, and made a tchking
|
|
sound. Dana closed her eyes as the horse began to move, a walk at first,
|
|
then a teeth-jarring trot, then finally a smooth canter. She kept her
|
|
eyes closed, not wanting to have to look down. It was too scary. Fionn
|
|
laughed, and began to sing in some strange language Dana at first assumed
|
|
was Gaelic, but after a while she decided it wasn't. She'd heard a lot of
|
|
Gaelic spoken in the past few days, and this just didn't sound the same.
|
|
It was in a minor key, and its complex melody was almost eerie.
|
|
With her eyes closed Dana didn't feel the fear she'd expected.
|
|
Instead she seemed unable to think of anything but his body against hers.
|
|
She was aware of him with every nerve ending, the movement of the horse
|
|
making him shift rythmically against her in a cadence all too reminiscent
|
|
of sex. She understood for the first time the erotic appeal of riding
|
|
bareback... even through the sturdy canvas of her jeans she could feel the
|
|
warmth and power of the animal between her thighs. Adding to the sexual
|
|
miasma forming inside her was the realization that where she fit closely
|
|
against his crotch there was a hard, heated length that hadn't been there
|
|
when he first settled behind her. He was aroused too, and there was no
|
|
disguising it.
|
|
He stopped singing, and his other arm slid around her, above the
|
|
first, his hand resting partly against the side of her breast, partly
|
|
beneath her arm. His thumb began to glide gently over the upper curve of
|
|
her breast. Her breath caught in her throat but she didn't object, and a
|
|
moment later his fingers tightened a little, cupping her breast fully in
|
|
his palm. Warmth flared inward from her furled nipple and then was echoed
|
|
a moment later as his lips grazed her neck, just below her ear. It was
|
|
all she could do not to moan. God, this was crazy! Why was she letting
|
|
him do this? Especially after he'd... or had he? She still wasn't sure
|
|
if that had been dream or reality two nights earlier. She sat forward,
|
|
breaking her contact with him and his hand dropped away instantly. He
|
|
took hints well. It seemed like only moments later that the horse slowed,
|
|
then stopped. Dana heard voices, women's voices, and a single voice over
|
|
the others, moaning in pain.
|
|
"We've arrived, you can look now," Fionn's voice was carefully
|
|
neutral as he loosened his other arm from around Dana's waist. "I must
|
|
let you down here, they won't let me come closer."
|
|
Dana opened her eyes, and almost wished she hadn't. What were they
|
|
doing in a cave, for heaven's sake? It looked as if she'd stepped into a
|
|
museum diorama featuring `The Ancient Celts'. There were a dozen women
|
|
present, all wearing what looked like costumes, save Eithne who knelt
|
|
naked, supported by a woman on either side. Her body was round and hard
|
|
with pregnancy, her face anguished. All other considerations fled in the
|
|
face of that. Dana slid off the horse and ran, pushing aside the women in
|
|
her way.
|
|
"Let her lie down, I need to see what's going on."
|
|
Nodding, the two women helped Eithne lie back on the linen sheet
|
|
spread on the ground. Dana checked her pulse and breathing, and was
|
|
relieved to find them relatively normal. She didn't appear to have any of
|
|
the symptoms of toxemia either.
|
|
"How early are you, and how long have you been in labor?"
|
|
"I'm six weeks early," Eithne managed, through gritted teeth. "As
|
|
for how long... I'm not sure, but much longer than ever before. And it
|
|
doesn't... feel right!"
|
|
Dana's eyebrows lifted. "You've had other children?" She didn't
|
|
know why she felt surprised, but she was.
|
|
"Aye, two. Please... can you help?"
|
|
"I'm going to have to examine you before I can tell."
|
|
Eithne nodded, biting her lip. Rolling up her sleeves, she drew on
|
|
a pair of examination gloves from her kit and knelt beside her patient.
|
|
As gently as she could she eased her hand into the birth canal, trying not
|
|
to hear Eithne's whimpers, thankful for once that she had small hands. It
|
|
was instantly clear what was wrong, there was no doubt whatsoever. The
|
|
baby was coming rear-end first. She sat back, collecting her thoughts,
|
|
trying to remember the important points of assisting a breech birth.
|
|
Damn, why hadn't she paid more attention to that seminar? She
|
|
would have to free the legs, keep the cord free of any constriction so
|
|
there was no loss of circulation from the placenta, and ease the arms
|
|
down. Delivering the head would be the hardest part, but then, it would
|
|
be in a normal birth too! It would need to be done now, as the baby was
|
|
already through the cervix to about its navel, and if she remembered right
|
|
once it was to that point things needed to move quickly. She sat back and
|
|
looked up at the older woman who stood waiting.
|
|
"What's your name?"
|
|
"Banbha."
|
|
"Beva?" she asked, confirming her pronunciation. "All right, I
|
|
may be able to help, but you have to realize it will be the first time
|
|
I've attempted anything like it."
|
|
"But you know what to do?" Banbha asked anxiously.
|
|
"Technically, yes."
|
|
"What can we do to help?"
|
|
"I'm going to need someone to help me, and it would help if she
|
|
were higher, so I had better leverage. A table would be good, something
|
|
about waist high."
|
|
"A table..." Banbha made a movement and Dana gasped in shock,
|
|
almost falling over backward as something *changed* and Eithne was lying
|
|
on a table, waist high, no longer on the ground. She stood up quickly,
|
|
gaping at it.
|
|
"Do you need anything else?" Banbha asked.
|
|
Dana blinked at her, dumbfounded, still not quite believing that
|
|
the table had just appeared out of nowhere. She reached out and touched
|
|
it, finding its surface smooth and hard beneath her hand. It was a wooden
|
|
table, not a steel one, but still, just the fact that it was *there* was
|
|
outrageous!
|
|
"I... I..." she scowled, trying to think clearly. Eithne moaned,
|
|
curling around her pain, and the sound galvanized Dana. Grabbing her kit
|
|
she fished out a scalpel and a couple of needles, along with suture silk.
|
|
"I need soap and water to wash up with, and some boiling water to
|
|
sterilize these, just in case I end up having to do an episiotomy."
|
|
"You can't use those." Banbha said quietly. "Let me see them, I
|
|
will create something you can use."
|
|
Dana stared at her. "Why can't I use them?"
|
|
"They are steel, she would never heal from a wound made by that.
|
|
Please, hold them out so I can see them clearly."
|
|
Dana held them out, and Banbha studied them for a long time, then
|
|
closed her eyes, a frown of intense concentration marring her beauty. A
|
|
moment later she held out her hand; on her palm lay an object the same
|
|
size and general shape as Dana's scalpel, but the shaft looked like wood,
|
|
and the blade seemed to be made of black glass. Dana picked it, testing
|
|
the weight and feel of it, and looked at Banbha questioningly.
|
|
"What is the blade made of?"
|
|
"Obsidian. I thought of bronze, but it is not so sharp. This will
|
|
function better, won't it?" she sounded anxious.
|
|
Dana nodded, recalling an article she'd read in about eye surgeons
|
|
using obsidian blades because they made a cleaner incision and left less
|
|
scarring. It was, she smiled to herself at the pun, cutting-edge
|
|
technology, for all its stone-age appearence.
|
|
"It should do fine. What about a needle?"
|
|
Banbha looked past her to the others gathered in the cave.
|
|
"Brede?"
|
|
One of the other women stepped forward, her gown was embroidered
|
|
heavily around the neck and hem in dizzying swirls. Opening a pouch at
|
|
her waist she drew out a scrap of soft leather. Four very thin needles
|
|
pierced it, gleaming in the odd, diffuse light that filled the cave,
|
|
though it seemed to have no source.
|
|
"They're silver, and won't harm her." Brede said softly. "I would
|
|
be honored if you would use them."
|
|
Dana accepted the packet solemnly. "Thank you. What about the
|
|
nylon suture? Could it hurt her?"
|
|
"May I see it?" Brede asked.
|
|
Dana held out the spool. Brede examined it, drawing a section
|
|
through her fingers. She shook her head. "No, this should not harm her."
|
|
"Good. Where's the water I needed?"
|
|
Someone came forward with a large bowl full of steaming water.
|
|
Dana dropped the needles and scapel into it. The wooden shaft buoyed the
|
|
stone blade so that it floated on the water. She shook herself, wondering
|
|
if she would wake in a moment to find that she'd dreamed it all. A second
|
|
bowl of water was brought along with soap, and she washed her hands, then
|
|
drew on a new pair of gloves. Her hands were trembling. She turned away
|
|
a moment, trying to get herself under control. Silently she prayed to the
|
|
god she hadn't quite believed in for years, hoping she could pull this
|
|
off. Finally she turned.
|
|
"I'm ready. This is going to hurt like hell, so hang on to her
|
|
hands and be ready to hold her still."
|
|
Brede stepped forward and took Eithne's hands, gazing down into her
|
|
eyes, and she began to sing, the melody reminded Dana a little bit of the
|
|
song Fionn had sung on the way here.
|
|
Banba smiled. "We'll see to her, she'll have no pain."
|
|
Dana didn't ask how, but for some reason didn't doubt that they
|
|
could do that. It was just part and parcel of the whole bizarre
|
|
situation. Banbha placed her hands on Dana's shoulders, looking down into
|
|
her eyes with concern.
|
|
"What of you? Are you well?"
|
|
Scully took a deep breath, and nodded. "I'm fine, a bit nervous,
|
|
but fine."
|
|
Banbha gazed at her with steady confidence.
|
|
"Do what you must, you will succeed."
|
|
Oddly, Dana suddenly felt more confident. She moved around the
|
|
table to where she could more easily reach Eithne and went to work.
|
|
"Banbha, you'll need to keep a gentle, steady pressure on her
|
|
abdomen, pushing the baby toward me. Can you do that?"
|
|
The older woman nodded, and took her place. Dana worked a hand
|
|
into Eithne's body, amazed that her action didn't draw even a gasp from
|
|
her patient. The powerful muscles were contracted, trying to expell the
|
|
child, and she had to wait for the contraction to end before she could
|
|
carefully free one of the baby's legs, drawing it down from its flexed
|
|
position. It was terrifying, trying to gauge the right amount of
|
|
pressure... too little and nothing happened, but too much and she could
|
|
injure the child. Her fingers kept going numb from the pressure against
|
|
them, and she was sweating with exertion as she fought against the
|
|
contractions that hampered her. Sweat was dripping into her eyes and she
|
|
wiped her face on her sleeve ineffectually, wishing someone would do it
|
|
for her. Before the thought was finished one of the other women was at
|
|
her side with a cloth, blotting the sweat away, then stepping back, near
|
|
enough to do it again when needed, but out of the way. Dana muttered a
|
|
terse thank-you and concentrated on Eithne again.
|
|
With the first leg freed Dana was was able to draw down a loop of
|
|
the umbilical so there was less stress on it. She could feel a strong
|
|
pulse in the cord that reassured her. Whatever they were doing to Eithne
|
|
to keep her from feeling pain must be working, because she wasn't even
|
|
whimpering at things Dana knew would have even the bravest soul screaming
|
|
in pain. She managed to spread her fingers over the baby's rear and
|
|
thighs, and gently pulled downward, drawing the infant out far enough that
|
|
she could start fighting again, this time to sweep its arms down from
|
|
where they were crossed over its chest.
|
|
When the next contraction rippled through Eithne, since the
|
|
blockage of flexed legs and arms had been cleared, the baby's shoulder and
|
|
arm slid free. For the first time, she could see the back of its neck and
|
|
head. It was time. Desperately trying to remember exactly what she was
|
|
supposed to do, she put her forearm under the baby's body to support it
|
|
and slipped two fingers into its mouth to draw its head into a better
|
|
birth position.
|
|
"Eithne, when the next contraction comes I need you to push, push
|
|
hard! Banbha, you too!"
|
|
As they complied, Dana put her other hand over the baby's shoulder,
|
|
her fingers spread on either side of its neck, and pulled evenly with both
|
|
hands. The baby slid downward an inch or so, no more. Dana longed to
|
|
ease her hand free and shake it to return circulation and feeling, but
|
|
that would mean starting over so she ignored the needle-like pains in her
|
|
arm and kept at it. It took three more tries, but the baby finally slid
|
|
free in a rush of amniotic fluid and blood.
|
|
Dana felt a rush of irrational joy... as if she, not Eithne, had
|
|
just given birth. She turned it... him, upward, holding him carefully as
|
|
she gazed down into his unfocused eyes, and messy little face, grinning
|
|
like an imbecile. Collecting herself, she cleared his tiny mouth and
|
|
gently massaged him into breath. He hiccoughed twice, then settled into a
|
|
steady rythm. She shuddered with relief. She'd done it! He seemed to be
|
|
normal and healthy, he was breathing on his own, his color was good... she
|
|
breathed a quiet sigh of relief and quickly tied off the umbilical and cut
|
|
it with the obsidian scalpel. Maybe her pride wasn't so irrational...
|
|
without her, he might not have made it into the world alive.
|
|
"He's beautiful," said softly, marvelling at how long he was. He
|
|
was a surprisingly big baby, especially since he was early, with
|
|
cafe-au-lait skin and distinctly African features. As she checked him
|
|
over, though, something odd caught her attention as she cleaned him up
|
|
with a warm, damp cloth someone had handed her, and she looked more
|
|
carefully. Her jaw dropped, and she barely managed not to swear in
|
|
surprise. Banbha must have read her consternation on her face for she
|
|
leaned close.
|
|
"What is it? Is something wrong with the child?" she demanded in
|
|
a whisper.
|
|
"I... well... yes, and no. He... she seems to be healthy, but..."
|
|
"But what?"
|
|
"Well, it seems... I mean..." Dana stopped, frustrated. There was
|
|
no easy way to say it, so she just came out with it. "He... um... it
|
|
appears to be hermaphroditic." she said, taking refuge in medical-ese.
|
|
It didn't work. Banbha shook her head, puzzled.
|
|
"It's what?"
|
|
"It has both male *and* female genitalia!" she said in a tight
|
|
hiss.
|
|
Banbha stared at her for a moment, then a smile spread across her
|
|
face. "Of course it does, we don't choose a primary gender until much
|
|
later. 'Tis normal for us."
|
|
Dana gaped, feeling utterly dumbfounded.
|
|
"Normal? This is normal?"
|
|
"Aye, completely."
|
|
"I... I... well, if you say so."
|
|
"I do, so be easy with it. Give the child to Brede to clean and
|
|
wrap now before Eithne starts to worry."
|
|
Dana nodded and carefully passed the child to Brede, then turned
|
|
back to Eithne to attend to the delivery of the placenta, trying not to
|
|
let on how shaken she was. Until that moment, she'd been able to just
|
|
think of them as a quirky group of historical reenactors. This, however,
|
|
confirmed their alienness in a way she could never have anticipated. What
|
|
had Banbha meant when she said they didn't chose their primary gender
|
|
until later? She had thousands of questions fighting for precendence in
|
|
her mind, but she didn't feel that she could ask any of them. Fighting
|
|
off the urge to sit down and rest, she deliberately set her mind to the
|
|
task at hand and blocked out the rest.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dana sat bolt upright, startled and disoriented. It took her a
|
|
moment to figure out that she was in bed at Maire's cottage. Odd, she
|
|
didn't even remember going to bed! Her clothes were neatly folded on the
|
|
small dressing table. On top of them lay an unfamiliar object. She
|
|
reached over and picked it up. It was a small chamois pouch with
|
|
something small and heavy inside it. She eased the drawstring open and
|
|
shook the object out into her hand. It was a small gold disk, about an
|
|
inch in diameter, one face bore a small, rather grotesque female figure
|
|
which appeared to be exposing herself, and the other face held an
|
|
intricate triskele pattern. It looked like some sort of ancient coin,
|
|
since it bore no jump-ring for a chain.
|
|
Where had it come from? What was it? Why did she have it? As she
|
|
turned it over and over in her palm, she began to remember the odd dream
|
|
she'd been having. Delivering a baby? Weird. She must have been
|
|
thinking too much of Fionn last night, and her subconscious had pulled
|
|
Eithne out of her memory. The beginning of the dream had been a lot like
|
|
the earlier one she'd had of him, starting out very sexy. She could still
|
|
remember the hard impression of his arousal against her rear, the touch of
|
|
his lips on her neck. After that it had gotten bizarre, ending with the
|
|
delivery of a baby. She made a face, annoyed at this possible evidence
|
|
that her biological clock was trying to make its presence known. What
|
|
else would explain these dreams, first about sex, then babies?
|
|
Still puzzled by its presence in her room, she tucked the coin back
|
|
into the pouch and got up, glancing at her watch. One o'clock? That had
|
|
to be in the afternoon, since it was daylight. Could it really be that
|
|
late or had her watch stopped? She checked it again, and saw the
|
|
second-hand sweep around the dial. It was working, but maybe it was slow,
|
|
or fast or something. Yawning, she pulled on her sweats and headed for
|
|
the bathroom. As she passed Maire's room she saw that the door was open
|
|
and her bed was neatly made. Not surprising; she seemed to be an early
|
|
riser. She went on into the bathroom and closed the door.
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
"You're up finally?" Maire greeted her as she wandered into the
|
|
kitchen. "I thought you were going to sleep the day away, but figured you
|
|
must need the rest."
|
|
"I guess I was more tired than I realized! Is it really after
|
|
one?"
|
|
"It is."
|
|
"Sorry to be such a slug-abed," Dana apologized, smiling. "By the
|
|
way, I found this in my room, is it yours? Did you leave it there?"
|
|
"What is it?"
|
|
"This," Dana held out the chamois pouch. Maire opened it and
|
|
fished out the coin. She studied it for a long moment, then smiled a very
|
|
strange smile.
|
|
"It's not mine, Dana, it's yours."
|
|
"No, it's not... unless, do you mean you're giving it to me as a
|
|
gift?"
|
|
"Oh no, it's not from me, and it's not a gift! It's payment, for
|
|
services rendered."
|
|
Dana stared at her. "What do you mean?"
|
|
"It's from Them. They're paying you for your help last night."
|
|
Dana felt a little weak-kneed and sat down abruptly on one of the
|
|
kitchen chairs. "Them?"
|
|
"The Gentry. How did it go? Were you able to help the mother and
|
|
child?"
|
|
"But... that was a dream!" Dana exclaimed.
|
|
"No, it was real. I saw you leave with him night before last, and
|
|
you were gone a full day. I didn't hear you return, but when I got up
|
|
this morning you were in your bed. They must have brought you back."
|
|
"Gone *how* long? That's impossible! I don't remember..."
|
|
"Sometimes, when you cross between the worlds, time is different,
|
|
and the crossing can do things to your mind, make you forget."
|
|
Dana lifted a hand to her head, rubbing her forehead in confusion.
|
|
"My god... I can't believe this is happening to me! This is...
|
|
incredible! It's simply not possible!"
|
|
"There are many stories of midwives taken to help the Gentry!"
|
|
"That's just it, Maire! They're *stories*! Fairy tales! Not
|
|
real!"
|
|
"There's a grain of truth in almost every story, Dana."
|
|
"Maire, this is making me crazy! First Fionn, now this! What's
|
|
*real* around here?"
|
|
"It all is. Just because it's different doesn't make it any less
|
|
real."
|
|
Dana sighed. "I wish Mulder was here!"
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"Because he has a way of making the bizarre seem plausible."
|
|
Maire chuckled. "Sounds like an interesting man."
|
|
Dana gave a derisive snort. "That's one way to put it." She shook
|
|
her head. "It's like I dreamed it all... except Fionn. I know he was
|
|
real, on the plane at least. I wish I could find him, talk to him, ask
|
|
him what's going on."
|
|
"You can. I know where you can find him, tonight at least. It's
|
|
full moon and there's been a birth, he'll be at the stones."
|
|
"What stones?"
|
|
"The ring of stones on the hill above their house, on the cliffs
|
|
not far from Inishcrone."
|
|
"Their house? They have a house?" For some reason that was harder
|
|
to believe than the thought of them living in some alternate universe.
|
|
"They have to live somewhere when they're here, don't they?"
|
|
"I... guess so. But what makes you think he'll be at this stone
|
|
circle?"
|
|
"As I said, his sister's just given birth, and it's full moon.
|
|
He'll be there. It's..."
|
|
"It's traditional," Dana finished for her. "I take it these
|
|
people are pretty tradition bound."
|
|
"Very much so."
|
|
"But what am I supposed to do? Hide behind a rock and wait for him
|
|
to show up?" Dana demanded sarcastically.
|
|
"If you like."
|
|
"I don't. I'd feel like a fool."
|
|
"It's up to you *how* you do it, but you should go. You have to go
|
|
and see if he's there, your Fionvarra. Go and see if he walks to the
|
|
stones, and crosses over. After that, if you still disbelieve, I'll say
|
|
no more, but do that much for me before you make up your mind that I've
|
|
lost mine."
|
|
Dana shook her head, scowling. "No."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
The bay looked unchanged. It lay sparkling in the moonlight just
|
|
as it had for longer than even he could remember. Fionn breathed in
|
|
deeply, tasting the sweet smoke of a distant peat fire. That essence
|
|
seemed to be ingrained in his soul. For too many years the only things he
|
|
had smelled were the cloying stink of half-spent hydrocarbons, and the
|
|
synthetic fragrances that Americans were so obsessed with. They were
|
|
always covering up natural scents with unnatural perfumes. It was a
|
|
strange passion.
|
|
He walked up the hillside away from the house that stood at the
|
|
edge of the cliff, its physical location mirroring in a way its more
|
|
precarious position... that of standing between two worlds. The world of
|
|
the Sidhe, and the world of Humanity. It was a Gathering Place, and
|
|
always would be, whether the house stood there or not. The land there
|
|
held a special property the Folk needed to survive, hidden in caverns deep
|
|
below the surface.
|
|
His foot touched a stone half-hidden in the thick grass, and a
|
|
charged tingle raced upward from his bare toes. He smiled. A border-
|
|
stone. He had reached the outer edge of the Gateway. Humans and animals
|
|
would always feel uncomfortable here, and avoid it, but to him it was as
|
|
if he'd been reborn. He stepped past the boundary and began to walk the
|
|
circumference of the Outer Circle, refamiliarizing himself with its shape
|
|
and feel. It had been so long... so long... but he remembered it, his
|
|
body remembered even if his mind did not. He felt the Crossing song well
|
|
up, and gave it voice, letting the words flow out of him like water, words
|
|
so old none of them knew their meaning any longer; no one but him. He
|
|
knew a few of them now, after many years of searching and study, their
|
|
roots lay deep in languages dead for millennia. He had traced them as far
|
|
back as he could, surprised and yet not surprised to find their source in
|
|
Human tongues.
|
|
He wondered anew how his people had begun. They must once have
|
|
been human... how else could they be genetically compatible? But
|
|
somewhere back in the mists the Folk had taken a far different path, and
|
|
kept on it. They had learned that the universe was both less, and more,
|
|
than it seemed. They had learned to manipulate the world at its basest
|
|
level, to play with atoms like marbles. Strange that the atoms they
|
|
played with had turned on them, might yet destroy them. He thought of
|
|
Banbha and felt an unfamiliar pain in his chest. Unconsciously his hand
|
|
tried to massage the pain away, but it was too deep, too far inside. He
|
|
loosened his cloak and let it fall so he could move unhampered. The night
|
|
air was cold on his skin, but it didn't bother him. The ritual was his to
|
|
perform, but tonight he would Cross not just for her, but for Banbha as
|
|
well.
|
|
"I cross over in your honor, you who are new born to this world.
|
|
Be in me," he whispered, and began the dance.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dana shivered in the cool dampness of the night, drawing her jacket
|
|
closer around herself, and feeling foolish. How had she talked herself
|
|
into this? What was she doing watching some stranger's house through
|
|
binoculars as if she were on a stakeout? She was liable to run afoul of
|
|
the local constabulary, though Maire had assured her it was unlikely. She
|
|
could hear the older woman as if she were with her.
|
|
"You have to go and see if he's there, your Fionvarra. Go and see
|
|
if he walks to the stones, and crosses over. After that, if you still
|
|
disbelieve, I'll say no more, but do that much for me before you make up
|
|
your mind that I've lost mine."
|
|
She had agreed, finally. And now she was sitting behind a rock on
|
|
an Irish hillside spying on some unsuspecting family that happened to live
|
|
in a house that local legend had endowed with Otherworldly portent. The
|
|
windows shone golden with light, and she could see the shadows of people
|
|
within as they moved. There were a lot of people there, it must be a
|
|
party. After a while the door opened, and a figure emerged to stand in
|
|
the courtyard, lit by the glow spilling from inside the house. Someone
|
|
getting some fresh air, no doubt. She focused the binoculars and nearly
|
|
dropped them.
|
|
Fionn.
|
|
She looked again, focusing carefully on the face, unable to believe
|
|
the coincidence, that he really *did* live in the house where Maire had
|
|
said he would. It was him. She had no doubt at all, despite the fact
|
|
that he seemed to be wearing a costume of some sort... a short,
|
|
light-colored tunic, and over it a checkered cloak. She thought it was
|
|
yellow and black, but she couldn't be certain. The tunic was so short he
|
|
probably couldn't bend over comfortably in public, and his legs and feet
|
|
were bare beneath it. His long, thick hair was loose around his shoulders
|
|
like a lion's mane, falling to mid-back. Uncomfortably she fingered the
|
|
clasp in her pocket, wondering if he'd missed it yet.
|
|
He turned and said something to someone inside the house, and the
|
|
door closed, cutting off the light. She strained to see more clearly, and
|
|
wished for a starlight-scope. He was moving, walking... toward her. She
|
|
lowered the binoculars and looked again. She could just see him, in the
|
|
moonlight, walking up the hill toward the ragged stone circle that stood
|
|
on the hillside between the house and her position above it.
|
|
"See if he walks to the stones, and crosses over.," Maire had
|
|
said. Now he was walking toward the stones... but what had she meant by
|
|
`crosses over?'
|
|
Dana watched him hike quickly up the hill, pausing once to stand
|
|
and stare out at the bay, then resume his walk. As he came closer she
|
|
could see him easily. He moved gracefully, quickly, with a stride that
|
|
reminded her of a leopard she'd seen at the zoo. He was close now, close
|
|
enough that she could hear him singing... something minor-key and
|
|
haunting, with no words she could understand. It reminded her of the song
|
|
he had sung as they rode toward Eithne. He paused for a moment and
|
|
dropped his cloak. She sucked in a breath, unprepared for her reaction to
|
|
him. God, he was superb!
|
|
The tunic left his arms bare, and they looked like sculpted marble.
|
|
Despite his height, he had a distinctly endomorphic build... compactly
|
|
muscular. His hair spilled like ink over the pale fabric, looking black
|
|
rather than auburn in the moonlight. The planes of his face were
|
|
highlighted and shadowed like a pen-and-ink drawing. His legs were
|
|
beautiful... long, and powerful. She imagined him naked, she imagined
|
|
those hard, arched thighs between hers, those solid arms around her, that
|
|
full, sensual mouth on her skin, the hard heat and weight of his body on
|
|
hers. Warmth exploded through her, banishing her chill as she watched him
|
|
begin to move.
|
|
His dance was like nothing she'd ever seen before. There was
|
|
nothing balletic, or folk-dance, or modern or jazz about it. Yet it was
|
|
unmistakably a dance. It was also a pattern, working slowly from the
|
|
outer edge of the circle toward the center, spiraling ever inward. He was
|
|
still singing, his voice soft and rough and sad. She blinked. Was it her
|
|
imagination, or were his steps leaving marks on the thick grass?
|
|
Footprints limned in faint phosphorescence. No... she stared hard and the
|
|
glow didn't fade. He *was* somehow leaving glowing footprints behind.
|
|
Her analytic side speculated on how he'd done that. Some sort of
|
|
substance on the soles of his feet? Some property of the grass in the
|
|
area? Some kind of bioluminescent insects? Any one of those could be the
|
|
answer. Her aesthetic side didn't care. He was beautiful, the dance was
|
|
beautiful, the song was beautiful... she was enthralled. She watched him
|
|
move closer and closer to the center of the circle, then finally he was
|
|
there, his back to her as he put his hands against the stone that marked
|
|
the center. It was roughly waist-height to him, its base buried since
|
|
time immemorial in the dark, fertile earth. He lifted his head, gazed at
|
|
the moon, and moved his hands apart with a soft cry.
|
|
The stone split in two, brilliant golden light spilling from inside
|
|
it. It opened, like a door. A door into *what*? A door into *where*?
|
|
She found herself on her feet, trembling, as she watched that impossible
|
|
space widen, and the light bathe him, his figure casting a distinct shadow
|
|
up the hill behind him. He laughed, and spoke some word she couldn't
|
|
understand, and stepped down somehow, into the stone, into the light. She
|
|
reacted without thought, on instinct, as if he were a fugitive about to
|
|
escape. She ran down the hill toward the rapidly narrowing glow, and
|
|
flung herself headlong after him.
|
|
She saw him turn, his eyes widening in... fear?
|
|
"NO!!!!" he screamed as she crossed the threshold.
|
|
Chaos. Confusion. Pain. Light that was darkness, sound that was
|
|
taste, scent that was sound... excruciating, agonizing, brilliant pain, as
|
|
if every molecule of her body were being individually torn apart. She
|
|
convulsed as she fell upward toward him, and there was nothing to hold
|
|
onto, no ground, no walls, no up, no down.... nothing. She was suspended
|
|
in nothing, her body exploding into a nova of agony. She tried to cry out
|
|
and saw her voice. Some tiny, rational part of her mind tried to explain
|
|
what was happening. Synesthesia? Then a ball of roiling crimson darkness
|
|
expanded behind her eyes. The last thing she felt were hands, something
|
|
real and knowable, as they closed around her arms.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
--
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
|
|
From: matthewk@spot.Colorado.EDU (MATTHEWS-SIMMONS KELLIE)
|
|
Date: Thu, 21 Jul 1994 04:49:01 GMT
|
|
|
|
|
|
WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17 Rated!
|
|
WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17 Rated!
|
|
|
|
The story you are about to read contains SEX, written in loving detail.
|
|
If that bothers you, either do NOT read this story, or get someone who
|
|
doesn't mind erotica to black out all the juicy parts for you before you
|
|
read it. If you're underage, get your parent's permission to read it.
|
|
|
|
Don't flame me if you're silly enough to go ahead and read it after I
|
|
warned you, and then get offended by it. --kms
|
|
|
|
This story copyright 1994 by the author. Permission to distribute freely
|
|
is given, provided you do not attempt to sell it. The X-Files is a
|
|
trademark of Fox Television, characters not used by permission.
|
|
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons//matthewk@ucsu.colorado.edu
|
|
Member: SFLA&EBS, PSEB, DDEB, X-phile "Ego veno eos in vulcos minos."
|
|
"Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of
|
|
humiliation." --Fox Mulder, X-Files "Squeeze"
|
|
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Ancient Dreams, pt. 4
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
|
|
|
|
Thirsty. She was thirsty. She licked her lips, hoping to moisten
|
|
their dryness, but her tongue was nearly as parched. There was something
|
|
tight around her shoulders, and she wasn't very comfortable in a
|
|
half-sitting, half-lying position, with something bumpy under her rear and
|
|
thighs. She was also moving slightly, back and forth. It was making her
|
|
seasick. She could hear someone speaking, a soft, soothing almost-
|
|
whisper, deep and low. A man's voice. Maybe he'd get her a drink.
|
|
"Irstee," she managed hoarsely, and flinched at the increased
|
|
pounding in her temples. She heard a gasp, and she thought for a moment
|
|
she was falling backward, but something behind her shoulders slowed the
|
|
movement, though her head was now tipped uncomfortably backward. What the
|
|
hell? Where was she? She opened her eyes to find Fionn's face close to
|
|
her own, wearing an expression that seemed to combine fear, concern,
|
|
surprise, and joy, all at once. It finally registered that he was holding
|
|
her in his lap, rocking her like a child.
|
|
"Ah, thank the Mothers! You're alive!"
|
|
She stared at him for a long moment, puzzled. "Yeah, shouldn't I
|
|
be?" Or that was what she'd meant to say. It came out more like "Eah,
|
|
shun ee bay?"
|
|
He laughed, and leaned down, his lips sealing hers. Suddenly she
|
|
forgot all about hurting, all about thirst, all about confusion. His
|
|
mouth was magical, soft, yet firm, the pressure just right. She lifted
|
|
her arms and slid them behind his neck, burying her fingers in the thick
|
|
silk of his hair, drawing him closer, urging him to more intimacy. He
|
|
yielded for a moment, his tongue slicking into her mouth, moistening the
|
|
dryness, and exciting her unbearably, then he pulled back with a gasp.
|
|
"Nay, lass... you're nowhere near ready for that yet. How do you
|
|
feel?"
|
|
Disappointed by his reaction, it took her a moment to marshall her
|
|
thoughts coherently. She realized she felt awful, which was a real
|
|
contrast to what his mouth had made her feel.
|
|
"I feel..." her words were more intelligible now. "...like
|
|
someone worked me over. What happened?"
|
|
"You Crossed Over, unprepared, and alone. For a mortal that could
|
|
be fatal, you're lucky I was able to catch you and bring you back! In
|
|
fact, you're damned lucky to be alive! What d'you think you were doin'?"
|
|
For a *mortal*? What was that supposed to mean, she wondered, as
|
|
she answered him. "I was following you."
|
|
"Why, for Pete's sake?" he asked, the Americanism slipping oddly
|
|
from his mouth. "Were you after killin' yourself?"
|
|
"I didn't know... I just wanted to talk to you, and I thought you
|
|
were going away."
|
|
"Oh," he looked a bit taken aback. "but to follow me into the
|
|
Tir... lass, how could you be so foolish?"
|
|
"What's... the teer?"
|
|
"Tir nan Og, the Summerland. Surely you've heard of... no, I can
|
|
see you've not. Leave it to an ignorant American to follow where the
|
|
proverbial angels fear to tread."
|
|
Dana bristled, trying to sit up, only to realize she was on his
|
|
lap, held in his arms. She subsided, scowling.
|
|
"I am not ignorant!" she snapped
|
|
"Yes, y'are. In these things, anyway. Lass... never travel in
|
|
myths you've not researched." he said in utter seriousness.
|
|
"But *where*... I mean, what is it? Why shouldn't I have followed
|
|
you?"
|
|
"'Tis another world, one that lies beside, or perhaps more
|
|
accurately, inside yours. One your human senses cannot fully comprehend
|
|
or deal with."
|
|
She struggled upright, pushing away from him. "What do you mean,
|
|
one my *human* senses can't comprehend?"
|
|
He smiled, shaking his head. "Ah, lass, you still don't see?
|
|
You're human, I'm not."
|
|
Dana suddenly wondered if she was dreaming. Dreams didn't have to
|
|
make sense. In a dream one could carry on a perfectly deranged
|
|
conversation like this with impugnity. She pinched the skin of her wrist
|
|
and winced. It hurt, which unfortunately meant she wasn't dreaming. She
|
|
studied him... he seemed perfectly human to her.
|
|
"Then what are you? An alien? You don't look like an alien.
|
|
They're supposed to be little guys with big heads, black eyes, and gray
|
|
skin."
|
|
His smile faded somewhat. "No, we're not them, and they're not us.
|
|
We're just a different kind of native, as much children of Earth as you
|
|
are, only we're not quite the same. Where your ancestors learned to use
|
|
fire, mine learned to use the mind. Over time we became two very
|
|
different kinds of being, though we may have begun the same."
|
|
"Right," she said sarcastically. "How stupid do you think I am?"
|
|
"Oh, not stupid at all. You're probably far more intelligent than
|
|
I am, and definitely more learned in the way Humans think of learning.
|
|
You're just ignorant in this thing, as I said."
|
|
"Okay, show me how you're different, then. You don't look
|
|
different."
|
|
"I will..." he said softly, a teasing smile playing around his
|
|
mouth.
|
|
He closed his eyes, she felt a shifting, a strange shiver of his
|
|
skin where it touched hers. Beneath her thighs she felt something change,
|
|
sinking away; where her back rested against his chest she felt a new
|
|
pressure and softness. His face blurred and softened, his lips became
|
|
fuller, redder, his features finer and less masculine, his eyebrows
|
|
thinner... He opened his eyes and it hit her suddenly, what was
|
|
different.
|
|
"Oh my god!" she gasped, and suddenly Banbha's words about
|
|
choosing a gender made sense.
|
|
"Aye, you see it now. And that's just one example of how we're
|
|
different." Even the voice was dissimilar... higher, huskier, rounder.
|
|
Just subtly, but enough.
|
|
She fought free of his... her embrace and knelt on the bed, facing
|
|
Fionn; staring at the long, sleek legs, so much rounder now, with that
|
|
underlying layer of fat that makes a woman's body softer-looking than a
|
|
man's.
|
|
"You're... you're..."
|
|
"Female. Aye, for the moment, though I can hold it for only a day
|
|
or so without the Earth's help to remold me. To change like this is a
|
|
minor thing, a parlor trick."
|
|
"But... how?"
|
|
"The same way I can do this..." he waved a hand at the chamber
|
|
they were in. The bedcover shimmered and changed from aqua to a deep,
|
|
rich purple, then became fur. The bed writhed and became dark walnut
|
|
instead of pale oak. A fireplace sprang into being where a window had
|
|
been.
|
|
"Stop, please, it's making me dizzy."
|
|
"I'll not do it any more. I just wanted to prove my point."
|
|
"How... how do you do it?"
|
|
"I... look at how it is, and then I make it as I wish it to be. I
|
|
look deep, and make the changes there, and they... become. I know that
|
|
makes no sense to you, but I can't explain it any other way. To me 'tis
|
|
instinctive, to you 'tis impossible."
|
|
She closed her eyes, feeling sick as another realization hit her.
|
|
Brother Andrew..."
|
|
Fionn nodded, frowning. "I believe he was one of us, though
|
|
untrained and nearly as ignorant as you. He could have killed you, the
|
|
fool! It doesn't take anywhere near that level of glamour to make a human
|
|
woman willing."
|
|
"Is that what you did you me... in Ennis? A glamour?" Dana asked
|
|
softly.
|
|
Fionn flushed and would not meet her gaze. "I started to, yes, but
|
|
then I realized it was wrong. I had never realized that before. I've
|
|
lived four-hundred lifetimes, and never saw it was wrong before. I had no
|
|
right to touch you without your consent. Please forgive me.
|
|
His, no, her, eyes were shadowed and clear, without deception.
|
|
Dana felt she was looking into his soul. Her soul. This was so
|
|
confusing!
|
|
"I will forgive you, but tell me this, *why* do you do that? Why
|
|
do you need to take human lovers?"
|
|
S/he sighed. "Because there are so few of us. For a long time
|
|
that didn't matter, we haven't the same inhibitions you humans do. But
|
|
then the children began to show the effects of it... the Be'an were born,
|
|
the Pooka. They were made wrongly, sometimes in body, sometimes in mind,
|
|
sometimes both. Only by studying Human science did we find out what was
|
|
wrong. We had become too inbred. From then on we had to look to
|
|
Humankind for lovers and mates, to make sure no more monsters were
|
|
created."
|
|
Monsters... Dana shivered, thinking of Eugene Tooms. Could he
|
|
have been one of those? A malformed, mutant Faerie child? Was he the
|
|
product of the Kindred? The elasticity of his muscular and skeletal
|
|
structure could be an outgrowth of this shapechanging abililty. She had
|
|
to accept Fionn's tale, it seemed. What choice had she? She'd met the
|
|
Kindred, and she'd seen, and more importantly, *felt* Fionn change from
|
|
male to female. The reality was there, unless she really was dreaming.
|
|
But this was unlike any dream she'd ever had.
|
|
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked, trying to make sense out
|
|
of everything. "Aren't you afraid I'll betray you?"
|
|
Fionn smiled, his features blurring as he shifted back to his male
|
|
form. "To whom? None would believe you, save those who already know of
|
|
us. You don't even believe it yourself, do you?"
|
|
Dana felt shaken, knowing he was right. She didn't, and no one
|
|
else would either. Even Mulder would have a hard time with this one.
|
|
Thinking of him she suddenly realized... was this how Mulder felt?
|
|
Knowing something was true, yet having no one believe you, doubting even
|
|
yourself? She didn't like it. It made her feel helpless, and paranoid.
|
|
"Aye, it does, doesn't it? You should be easier on him. He's no
|
|
fool, that one."
|
|
She gasped, eyes narrowing as she studied him, knowing she hadn't
|
|
spoken aloud. "You're a telepath?"
|
|
"I told you, we learned to use our minds the way your people
|
|
learned to use tools. You humans could do it, if you tried. We come,
|
|
after all, from common roots. All that we are, you could be. Sometimes
|
|
there are children born to you who should have been born to us, and vice
|
|
versa. We try to trade, when possible, but are not always able. A child
|
|
of the Folk growing up among humans is very alone, and sometimes
|
|
dangerous."
|
|
"Is that what happened to her?"
|
|
"Her?" he queried, puzzled.
|
|
"Mulder's sister. Did you take her?"
|
|
"Show me..." he said, leaning forward and taking her hands.
|
|
"How?" Dana asked, confused.
|
|
"Just think of him, think of what you know... ah!" His face was
|
|
eloquent with disgust. "Liathann! No, that was not our doing! There
|
|
are... other beings, other influences. We cannot talk to the Liath, they
|
|
are too... different," he shuddered.
|
|
Dana tried to imagine a being that Fionn would find strange, and
|
|
shivered herself. She was relieved that he had returned to his original
|
|
form. It was too strange for words, knowing that the man before her had
|
|
been a woman just moments earlier. It challenged her beliefs at a very
|
|
basic level. She studied him, shaking her head.
|
|
"Why do I believe you?"
|
|
"Because you know it is the truth."
|
|
"I have no proof."
|
|
"Truth needs no proof."
|
|
"Truth must have proof," she countered.
|
|
"No, some truths just... are."
|
|
"Why did you stop?"
|
|
He looked puzzled. She was pleased by that, it meant he had not
|
|
been reading her mind. The thought that he was always in there had
|
|
bothered her.
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"In Ennis, when you came to me... why did you stop?"
|
|
His eyes darkened and he looked away. "I was... ashamed."
|
|
She looked at him and smiled. "You've tasted the apple."
|
|
He got the reference instantly, and laughed. "So I have, and
|
|
wholly fallen from innocence."
|
|
She looked away, suddenly shy. "I was afraid... I thought
|
|
maybe..."
|
|
He caught her hands in his, drew them to his lips. "No, never
|
|
that. I wanted you more than I've wanted anyone in longer that I can
|
|
remember. But I knew if I took you, you would never forgive me, and that
|
|
I could not bear."
|
|
Her heartbeat skyrocketed as his lips moved against her fingers,
|
|
then he turned her hands in his and his tongue tasted the pulse in her
|
|
wrist, then in the softness inside her elbow. She shivered as he lifted
|
|
his head, his eyes alight with desire.
|
|
"But now you're here, and whole, and knowing, and so am I. And I
|
|
would love you as a man, if you will have me."
|
|
"As a man?" she asked, not understanding his implication.
|
|
"As a man, without resorting to a glamour, or dreamweaving, or any
|
|
of the other tricks of my kind. Just... as a man."
|
|
She realized he was shaking, she could feel his hands trembling.
|
|
He was afraid. Afraid of just being who he was, afraid she would say no,
|
|
afraid she would say yes. She was afraid of those same things, every one
|
|
of them.
|
|
"I... would like that," she heard herself say, and felt a flash of
|
|
fear. What on earth was she doing? What was the matter with her? Was he
|
|
using a... glamour on her? No... as soon as she thought it, she knew he
|
|
wasn't. He wouldn't, not now. She felt the attraction shimmering between
|
|
them. She wanted him, and had since the first time she'd seen him. It
|
|
was impulsive, and crazy, and very un-Scully. But she didn't *want* to be
|
|
Scully for awhile, she was tired of it. She wanted to be Dana, just Dana,
|
|
just a woman. She was tired of being controlled, and cool, and
|
|
professional and walled-off. She wanted to be someone else for awhile.
|
|
Someone impulsive, and open, and free.
|
|
"Fionn," she whispered. "I want you, but I'm afraid."
|
|
He shook his head. "Don't be, I'd never harm you, never"
|
|
"It's not you I fear." she said, reaching for his hand.
|
|
Understanding lit his face, and he let her take his hand and guide
|
|
it to her lips.
|
|
"Don't fear yourself either, Dana."
|
|
Easier said than done, she thought, then looked down at his hand,
|
|
clasped in hers. "You have beautiful hands, you know..." she whispered,
|
|
running her tongue along the grooves of his knuckles. She turned his hand
|
|
palm up and pressed a kiss into the center. He shivered, but stayed
|
|
still, letting her take the initiative.
|
|
"Dana...?" he whispered, making her name a question.
|
|
She knew what he was asking, and nodded, slowly. He put his free
|
|
hand behind her head, working out the pins that held her hair in a French
|
|
knot. Once they were out he pushed his fingers through it, loosening it,
|
|
until it fell free, brushing her shoulders. He slid his hand behind her
|
|
neck and cupped the back of her head, tilting her face up as he leaned
|
|
down and brushed her lips with his. She shuddered, breathing fast and
|
|
shallow. She leaned toward him, her hand against his cheek as she sought
|
|
a deeper kiss.
|
|
He opened to her, giving her complete control. Dana took it, and
|
|
her tongue found his, dueling hotly, as the kiss rapidly escalated. Her
|
|
arms went around him, her hands fanning out against the broad, hard planes
|
|
of his back, urging him closer until they were pressed together from the
|
|
knees up. She could feel the hard length of his erection against her
|
|
belly, even through her jeans, shirt, and jacket. She pulled away,
|
|
suddenly anxious to be rid of those restrictions, and fumbled with the
|
|
zipper on her jacket. Her fingers were shaking so badly she couldn't open
|
|
it. He put his hand over hers, and she looked up at him, blushing both
|
|
with arousal and embarrassment.
|
|
"May I?" he asked.
|
|
She nodded. He eased the zipper down and slid her jacket off her
|
|
shoulders. Next he opened the buttons on her shirt, slowly, with infinite
|
|
patience. As each button came undone she seemed to feel a surge of
|
|
desire, and when he finally got the last one undone and spread her shirt
|
|
open, her nipples were diamond-hard beneath the t-shirt she wore instead
|
|
of a bra. He paused for a moment, until she arched back a little, lifting
|
|
her breasts, then his fingers stroked over her, his touch simultaneously
|
|
soothing and inflaming. She gasped, her hands coming up to cover his,
|
|
holding them in place against her as she lifted her mouth to his again,
|
|
licking and sucking at his lips and tongue, almost feral in her
|
|
excitement.
|
|
Fionn returned her wildness for wildness, his hands slipping from
|
|
beneath hers to yank her t-shirt up so he could touch her bared breasts.
|
|
A moment later he slid one hand down over the soft curve of her belly and
|
|
into the gap at the waist of her slightly too-large jeans, then on down to
|
|
cup her buttocks through the soft, thin cotton of her briefs. She curved
|
|
into his hand as he massaged her, his long fingers drifting low to where
|
|
the moisture of her arousal dampened the fabric; her mouth still sealed to
|
|
his as they drank each other in. She let her hands drift down his back,
|
|
to his hips, then to his thighs, until she felt the satin of his skin
|
|
beneath her fingers rather than coarse linen of his tunic. Then she moved
|
|
them behind, and back up again, to cup the hard, muscular curves of his
|
|
buttocks. As she'd expected, he was bare beneath the tunic, and he felt
|
|
vibrantly warm and alive under her touch.
|
|
Dana caressed him for a moment, pulling his hips tight against her
|
|
stomach, rubbing her body against his, then she let him go and wrenched
|
|
open her jeans, shoving them and her briefs down around her knees as she
|
|
shifted, spreading her thighs wider. He needed no urging. Without any
|
|
barriers between them, he cuppped his hand over her mons and touched her
|
|
gently, his fingers parting the moist curls, the soft flesh, caressing.
|
|
She moaned, shaking, and her hands returned to his shoulders, clutching at
|
|
him as she pulled her mouth from his with a gasp, and leaned against him
|
|
for support. He dropped his hand from her breast and cupped her behind,
|
|
lifting her, tilting her pelvis forward so he could push two fingers deep
|
|
into the core of her. She pressed her lips against his neck to still the
|
|
sounds she wanted to make as he gently stretched and stroked her. She
|
|
could barely keep herself on her knees, she was shaking so badly. All she
|
|
could think of was how he would feel inside her. It had been so long...
|
|
so long...
|
|
Suddenly agressive, she shifted, getting her feet under her, and
|
|
pushed him over backward with a little growl. He laughed as he went over,
|
|
and lay there, sprawled loosely, looking up at her with hot green eyes and
|
|
a wicked smile. She dragged her t-shirt off over her head and kicked off
|
|
her jeans, then leaned over him and unfastened his belt, tossing the heavy
|
|
length of bronze-disks-on-leather to the floor. That done, she discovered
|
|
that his tunic was just two rectangles of linen, without side seams. They
|
|
were wrapped and held at the shoulders with pins, and at the waist with
|
|
the belt. She turned the rings to unlock the pins and drew the sharp
|
|
metal carefully out of the fabric, then dropped them on top of his belt.
|
|
Gathering the front section of the tunic in her hand, she looked down at
|
|
him, grinning.
|
|
"I like this," she said. "Easy access."
|
|
He laughed, nodding. "Aye, sometimes the old ways are best."
|
|
She eased it down to about waist-level, exposing a broad chest and
|
|
flat stomach, furred with hair so dark a red it was nearly black. She
|
|
leaned down and kissed him again, her tongue tracing the sensual fullness
|
|
of his lips, then began to work her way south, kissing his chin, his
|
|
throat, his collarbone, his sternum, following the line of fine curls
|
|
where it arrowed beneath the fabric. Next to the white linen, his golden
|
|
skin showed its distinct olive undertones clearly. She eased one hand
|
|
under the bunched cloth and cupped his penis, feeling the rigid length of
|
|
him leap in her palm, feeling him tense and arch into her touch. She
|
|
looked up at him, her eyes lit with mischief.
|
|
"Well, you may be green, but you're sure as hell not little."
|
|
His eyes had been closed, his lashes dark fans against his cheeks,
|
|
but at her words they flew open. He studied her a moment, looking
|
|
puzzled, obviously not getting her joke, but he smiled tentatively.
|
|
"If that is a problem, I can be whatever you wish me to be. 'Tis
|
|
one advantage to being what I am. Most have wanted me to be as I am now,
|
|
but I can change that if you need... I can be smaller, larger, whatever
|
|
you like."
|
|
Dana stared at him, her joke forgotten. Did he mean what it
|
|
sounded like he meant?
|
|
"You don't mean you can change the size of your..." she suddenly
|
|
couldn't say it, it sounded too crass. "What exactly did you mean?"
|
|
He winked. "Let me show you, 'tis easier than saying."
|
|
In her palm he narrowed, lengthened, then a moment later the
|
|
proportions changed again, growing shorter, then yet again, as he
|
|
expanded, filling her hand until it was hard to close her fingers around
|
|
him. Her eyes widened as she stared down at his groin, where her hand and
|
|
his sex were still hidden beneath the fabric of his tunic.
|
|
"Oh my god! How did you... never mind. I don't want to know,"
|
|
she used her other hand to pull his tunic aside and discard it, and knelt
|
|
there for a moment, her hand caressing him, gently, watching the pulse in
|
|
his erection, lips parted with anticipation. After a moment she dragged
|
|
her gaze away and moistened her lips, taking a deep breath. "I... think
|
|
you were fine the way you started... this might be too much, at least at
|
|
first."
|
|
His smile was very knowing as he let himself resume his former
|
|
dimensions. "As you wish, but I can be however you like, whenever you
|
|
like. Just tell me." His voice was a silky whisper, as arousing as a
|
|
touch.
|
|
She nodded, eyes caught by his, mesmerized by the fire in them.
|
|
The flow of her desire was back, full stream. She moved astride him, but
|
|
didn't take him into her yet. Instead she knelt there, holding him,
|
|
brushing the soft warmth of her labia across cock, feeling the broad,
|
|
blunt tip of him part her and nudge within, creating a growing ache inside
|
|
her. His hands went to her hips, lightly resting there, holding but not
|
|
guiding as she moved. He closed his eyes again, and a soft groan escaped
|
|
him. She shivered at the sound, pleased to be the cause of it, excited by
|
|
the thought that he wanted her that much. She sank down a little, just
|
|
barely taking him into her, before lifting again.
|
|
His hands tightened almost painfully on her hips, then released
|
|
instantly, contrition written on his face.
|
|
"Ah, don't tease me, Dana! I've been celibate longer than you've
|
|
been alive."
|
|
She stilled, looking down at him in surprise. "You have?"
|
|
He nodded, hips arching upward as his body sought hers. "Aye."
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"No one interested me."
|
|
"No one? In how long?"
|
|
He looked a bit desperate. "Do we have to talk about this right
|
|
now?"
|
|
She grinned mischeviously, but her hand moved on him, stroking.
|
|
"Yes, we do."
|
|
"'Tis hard to think with you touching... no, don't stop. I'll
|
|
manage."
|
|
His hand covered hers quickly when she made as if to stop,
|
|
preventing her, encouraging her. She stroked him, feeling the silk over
|
|
steel of completely aroused male. Her fingers explored him, and he made a
|
|
little sound of pleasure deep in his throat, bucking into her hand, his
|
|
breathing ragged.
|
|
"The... last time I took... a lover was... was... sometime during
|
|
the war," he said raggedly.
|
|
"Korea?" she inquired, curious enough to be distracted from the
|
|
burgeoning sensations inside her. She figured he didn't mean Vietnam,
|
|
though he didn't look old enough to have been celibate since before
|
|
either. She stilled her hand, allowing him to relax a little, and he
|
|
looked at her blankly.
|
|
"Have they called it something different now? I can never keep up
|
|
with you humans and your history. I thought it was called the Great War."
|
|
Her mouth dropped open. "World War *One*?"
|
|
He nodded. She shivered, faced suddenly with his non-humanness,
|
|
even though proof of his compatibility throbbed in her hand. His hands
|
|
caressed her hips softly, urging her on.
|
|
"Please, Dana, please... I need you."
|
|
"Why me?" she breathed quietly, resuming the gentle, rythmic
|
|
caress she had stopped.
|
|
He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, struggling for control.
|
|
"Because... you're a complex, fascinating woman... I've never met
|
|
anyone like you before."
|
|
She laughed, delighted. "For that, you get a reward, whether or
|
|
not you really meant it."
|
|
She shifted over him, her hand moving down to guide him, and then
|
|
she was easing down, taking him inside her. She closed her eyes,
|
|
concentrating on the feel of him, the way her body opened to accomodate
|
|
him. Despite the fact that he'd resumed more average proportions at her
|
|
request, he was still very large, but she couldn't remember ever having
|
|
anyone feel this right inside her before. He was perfect, utterly
|
|
perfect. She rocked above him, circling her hips, using him as her center
|
|
of gravity.
|
|
"Dana..." his voice was dark and throaty.
|
|
She opened her eyes to find him gazing up at her with an expression
|
|
that took her breath away.
|
|
"Wha...what?"
|
|
"I meant it. Every word."
|
|
Unless he was a damned good liar, he was telling her the truth. He
|
|
chose that moment to run his hands up her sides then back down, stroking
|
|
her, his hips lifting beneath hers, following her movements. She forgot
|
|
all about how old he was. It didn't matter... all that mattered was how
|
|
he felt inside her. She leaned over, bracing her hands against his
|
|
shoulders, and began to move in earnest, loving the slide and thrust of
|
|
his heavy maleness inside her. He lifted his head and scattered kisses
|
|
over her throat, his hands coming up to caress her breasts, his fingers
|
|
tugging at her nipples. She whimpered, bucking on him.
|
|
His hands left her breasts to cup her buttocks and pull her down
|
|
onto him, urging her into a looping glide. She could feel her release
|
|
building, her muscles tensing in preparation and moved faster, working for
|
|
it. Suddenly he caught her hips in his hands and stopped her in mid-
|
|
motion, holding her still. She tried to move, and he wouldn't let her.
|
|
She struggled a little, frustrated.
|
|
"Wait, wait... let me...." his voice trailed off as he managed to
|
|
sit up, taking her weight on his hands and groin as he shifted position.
|
|
A moment later she was sitting on his lap with her legs around his waist,
|
|
his cock still buried in her aching softness.
|
|
"How'd you do that?" she gasped, not quite sure how he'd managed
|
|
to accomplish the change of position without ever withdrawing from her.
|
|
She liked it though, it still gave her control, but felt somehow more
|
|
equal, more intimate.
|
|
"Magic," he whispered, threading his fingers into her hair to draw
|
|
her toward him, taking her mouth with his in soft, open drugging kisses.
|
|
She squirmed, her breasts brushing his chest, her vagina clenching around
|
|
him, as she moved. Oh, god, he felt good! She arched, sliding on and
|
|
around him, discovering that the position brought her clitoris into almost
|
|
continuous contact with his cock. He reached down and gripped her thighs
|
|
in his hands, opening her wider, pulling her closer. Ecstasy blasted
|
|
through her, her nails digging into his back as the full pleasure of her
|
|
orgasm hit, slumping forward with her head against his shoulder. He held
|
|
her, stroking her back, his body still hard and unreleased within her.
|
|
When she could think again she realized he he hadn't finished, and
|
|
Dana leaned back so she could look at his face. His eyes were closed, his
|
|
breathing shallow, but steady and even, he almost looked like he was in
|
|
some kind of trance. She frowned, puzzled.
|
|
"Fionn?"
|
|
"Aye?" he whispered, radiating tension.
|
|
"What's wrong?"
|
|
"Nothing's wrong."
|
|
"Why are you..."
|
|
"I want to pleasure you."
|
|
"You have."
|
|
"More.
|
|
"You will."
|
|
"Aye..." he sucked in a deep breath, "but I can't hold... you're
|
|
too sweet, and it's been too long..."
|
|
She took his face in her hands, stroking her fingers over his
|
|
cheekbones, down his nose, soothing. "You've already pleasured me, what
|
|
more do you want?"
|
|
He shuddered, trembling with the effort of control. "It's hard..."
|
|
She grinned. "I noticed."
|
|
He laughed, eyes opening. There was something akin to pain in
|
|
their verdant depths, despite his smile. She leaned forward and kissed
|
|
him.
|
|
"It's okay," she whispered against his mouth. "I promise, I want
|
|
this."
|
|
"No..." his voice was desolate. "I can't..."
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"I'm afraid."
|
|
"Of what?"
|
|
"Losing control."
|
|
"It doesn't matter... I want you wild."
|
|
Her voice was dark and husky as she urged him on. He felt the
|
|
strength of her hands, her thighs, the muscle underlying her seal-soft
|
|
body. She was small, but she wasn't fragile. He smelled the hot scent of
|
|
her arousal and heard the passion in her voice. What he really wanted was
|
|
to Mate with her, but knew he would have to be content with less.
|
|
She ran a finger over his lips, her celadon eyes gone distant and
|
|
hazy with pleasure, then she moved on him, her body like a wet velvet
|
|
glove, very snug around him. Her movement broke his paralysis. He
|
|
gripped her tight against him and rolled with her, taking her beneath him.
|
|
She shifted a little, adjusting to his weight, tightening her thighs
|
|
around his hips. Slowly he pushed his upper body away from her, bracing
|
|
himself on his arms, his cock still held within her. She ran her hands up
|
|
his forearms, over the taut muscles of his shoulders, then around behind
|
|
him to rest against his lower back.
|
|
"You feel so good, you're so beautiful..." she whispered.
|
|
He shook his head, amazed. "Shouldn't I be saying that to you?"
|
|
She smiled, wriggling her hips, making him crazy. "If you like,
|
|
but you are, and changing the subject won't change that."
|
|
Women certainly had changed since he last had a human lover...
|
|
changed a lot. He lowered his mouth to hers, taking her soft, lush mouth
|
|
as if he could devour her. His hips curled forward instinctively, his
|
|
body pushing deep into hers. She moaned and he froze, burying his face in
|
|
the curve of her shoulder so he couldn't see her face, gasping.
|
|
"I'm sorry..."
|
|
"What for?"
|
|
"Hurting you," he whispered, ashamed, not meeting her eyes. He'd
|
|
been afraid he would do that if he lost control, and now he had. It was
|
|
so much easier to be sophisticated when all you were doing was talking, so
|
|
much easier to bring a woman to pleasure in a dream rather than in
|
|
reality.
|
|
She took his face in her hands, turning him toward her, forcing him
|
|
to look at her. There was no pain on her face.
|
|
"Fionn, you're not hurting me, I don't think you could! I love the
|
|
way you feel inside me!"
|
|
Her words sent an arc of fierce desire through him and he moved,
|
|
surging heavily into her. Her eyes closed and she curved upward, biting
|
|
her lip. He wanted to do the same. He leaned down and claimed her lips
|
|
again, urging her mouth open so his tongue could play with hers. Hers
|
|
played back. He laughed into their kiss, joyfully, it was so wonderful
|
|
having her awake and involved. He wasn't afraid any more.
|
|
Shifting his weight forward, Fionn drove into her, watching her
|
|
face, seeing her pleasure written on her face. He could feel it as if it
|
|
were his own. He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her cheekbone, her jaw,
|
|
arched his back so he could lean lower and suckle at her breasts. She met
|
|
and returned his kisses, her arms circling him, her hands splayed across
|
|
his back. He shifted back onto his knees and slid his hands beneath the
|
|
lovely, rounded curves of her buttocks to lift her into his thrusts. She
|
|
felt incredible, so hot, so slick, so tight. Her thighs tightened around
|
|
his hips and she went still with a soft cry, he could feel the explosion
|
|
of contractions around him as she came. With a shudder he lost himself in
|
|
her, letting the pleasure break inside him, almost painfully intense.
|
|
When he could think again he gathered her tight against him as the
|
|
pleasure slowly ebbed.
|
|
After a moment he felt her pushing against him lightly and lifted
|
|
to look down at her. She drew in a deep breath with a contented sigh.
|
|
"Better, couldn't breathe."
|
|
"Sorry," he said apologetically.
|
|
She shook her head. "Not necessary... taking a woman's breath away
|
|
is a talent to be proud of." She grinned. "You're not bad for a man your
|
|
age."
|
|
He laughed. "Thank you... I think."
|
|
She smiled, but absently. He could almost sense the shift in her
|
|
focus as she began to think about something other than satisfied desire.
|
|
"Fionn, how old *are* you?"
|
|
"I can't tell you."
|
|
She looked put out, her lower lip pushing out in a pout that made
|
|
him want to take her mouth with his. "You mean you won't." she amended,
|
|
irritably.
|
|
He kissed her, parting her lips with his, slicking his tongue into
|
|
her mouth intimately, echoing what they had just done. His body
|
|
responded, hardening, even though he'd just come. He was surprised by
|
|
that, and he curled his hips, rocking into the cradle of her thighs. She
|
|
tore her mouth from his with a gasp, her hands clutching at his hips.
|
|
This time he didn't mistake her response for pain. He knew better. He
|
|
rocked again, gently, establishing a slow, steady rhythm.
|
|
"No," he whispered. "I can't tell you, because I don't know. We
|
|
don't pay attention to the years, they seem so short. I know it was in
|
|
the fall, but no more."
|
|
"No year?" she queried, staying with her curiousity, though her
|
|
hands began to roam his flanks, and her hips lifted with each undulation
|
|
of his body in hers.
|
|
"No year."
|
|
"What's the first event you recall... human history."
|
|
He stilled, remembering, wishing he didn't. "The destruction of
|
|
Mona. I had a brother there... it was the first time I knew death."
|
|
His mouth closed over hers, preventing her from speaking again, and
|
|
for a moment his control slipped, his movements growing harder, harsher,
|
|
his mind filled with centuries-old anger at that needless waste. To his
|
|
amazement she responded to his fierceness, her knees coming up to open
|
|
herself more, to give her leverage as she pushed herself onto him. He
|
|
remembered her plea for wildness, and knew this time he had enough
|
|
self-control to give it to her. His anger had vanished back into the past
|
|
where it belonged, and his roughness held an edge of deliberation.
|
|
"Fionn?"
|
|
He lifted his head to find her gazing at him, her lips parted in
|
|
invitation. He shuddered at the look in her eyes... pale green fire, like
|
|
burning jade. The heat scorched him, drew him...
|
|
"Dana?" he answered softly.
|
|
"More..." she breathed, her voice a raw whisper.
|
|
He smiled knowingly. "As you ask... so be it." He closed his eyes
|
|
and reached out with other senses, feeling her need, sliding into her
|
|
thoughts to see what she really wanted. He felt no guilt at that, there
|
|
was nothing wrong with using his inborn talents to satisfy her. He shaped
|
|
himself to her desire, a little surprised at the depth of wildness in her.
|
|
He had not guessed her to be so untamed in her inner core.
|
|
He slid from her, leaving her gasping and arching, and rolled her
|
|
roughly onto her belly. She moaned and spread her thighs, inviting him.
|
|
He closed his hands over her buttocks, slid his fingers down low and
|
|
opened her, then mounted her. She yielded softly to his thrust, easily
|
|
taking him deep, sighing with pleasure. Moments later she tossed her
|
|
head, then pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. He shifted
|
|
position with her, and held her hips as he drove hard into her. With his
|
|
thumbs against her back his fingers nearly met across her belly; reminding
|
|
him forefully that she was such a little thing, but at the same time every
|
|
movement, and every word she spoke made him aware of the strength of
|
|
her... both in her body and her mind. He ached again to meld her
|
|
uniqueness with his own; what a child they could create together! But he
|
|
knew he couldn't ask her that, he didn't think she could knowingly give
|
|
him that much of herself, and he was no longer a being who could just
|
|
steal a life from her without her knowledge.
|
|
"More!" she hissed again, and he abandoned thought and self
|
|
control, pulling her back hard into each thrust, as if trying to gauge the
|
|
depths of her. She pushed back, willingly abetting his plunges, her hands
|
|
savaging the soft furs that covered the bed, arching and purring like a
|
|
cat. Taking his cue from that image, he nipped at her shoulders and the
|
|
back of her neck hard enough that she could feel his teeth, but not so
|
|
hard it would hurt. She stiffened beneath him, and he felt a shudder run
|
|
through her, then she slowly relaxed down onto the bed, gasping. He was
|
|
drawn down with her, and he gentled his movements, kissing her where he'd
|
|
nipped before. She sighed, shifting beneath him to give him easier
|
|
access.
|
|
"My god, Fionn," she said huskily. "You're something else..."
|
|
"I've had a lot of practice," he said, grinning.
|
|
"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's not nice to brag?"
|
|
"I wasn't bragging, I was explaining."
|
|
"Oh, is that what it was?"
|
|
"Aye," he turned onto his side, taking her with him, and slipped
|
|
an arm beneath her uppermost thigh so she was open to his fingers. She
|
|
gasped and whimpered, hips bucking against his hand as he began to stroke
|
|
her.
|
|
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, just to be sure.
|
|
"No!" she managed.
|
|
He grinned and closed his mouth over the sensitive spot where neck
|
|
and shoulder meet, sucking gently. He felt her response deep inside,
|
|
where she held his body in hers. He did it again, and again she
|
|
tightened, her reaction immediate and unmistakable. He kissed her jaw,
|
|
and curled around her, working to pleasure her with lips, fingers, cock.
|
|
It took only a moment or two before he triggered her release again, and
|
|
the feel of her pleasure provoked his own. He let the pleasure roll over
|
|
him in pulsing waves with a moan. After a while she sagged, bonelessly,
|
|
and he eased her back down onto her belly as he withdrew. He felt utterly
|
|
relaxed himself, and he put an arm around her as he stretched out next to
|
|
her, half asleep already.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
--
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
|
|
From: matthewk@spot.Colorado.EDU (MATTHEWS-SIMMONS KELLIE)
|
|
Date: Thu, 21 Jul 1994 04:50:25 GMT
|
|
|
|
WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17 Rated!
|
|
WARNING! THIS STORY IS NC-17 Rated!
|
|
|
|
The story you are about to read contains SEX, written in loving detail.
|
|
If that bothers you, either do NOT read this story, or get someone who
|
|
doesn't mind erotica to black out all the juicy parts for you before you
|
|
read it. If you're underage, get your parent's permission to read it.
|
|
|
|
Don't flame me if you're silly enough to go ahead and read it after I
|
|
warned you, and then get offended by it. --kms
|
|
|
|
This story copyright 1994 by the author. Permission to distribute freely
|
|
is given, provided you do not attempt to sell it. The X-Files is a
|
|
trademark of Fox Television, characters not used by permission.
|
|
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons//matthewk@ucsu.colorado.edu
|
|
Member: SFLA&EBS, PSEB, DDEB, X-phile "Ego veno eos in vulcos minos."
|
|
"Sometimes the need to mess with their heads outweighs the millstone of
|
|
humiliation." --Fox Mulder, X-Files "Squeeze"
|
|
|
|
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
Ancient Dreams, pt. 5
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dana yawned sleepily and burrowed into the covers, eyes closed,
|
|
feeling as relaxed and contented as a just-fed baby. The image made her
|
|
think of Eithne's baby, and how incredibly awed she had felt as she
|
|
delivered him. Suddenly she sat bolt upright.
|
|
"Shit!"
|
|
Obviously startled, Fionn sat up too. "What's wrong?"
|
|
She scowled, disgusted with herself and a bit with him. "I didn't
|
|
think... oh damn it all, I can't believe I was so stupid!"
|
|
"What? What did you do?"
|
|
"It's not what I did, it's what *we* didn't do."
|
|
He shook his head. "I don't understand... what do you mean?"
|
|
"I'm not protected, and I didn't think to make you use any birth
|
|
control!"
|
|
He stared at her for a moment, then began to smile. "Is that all?
|
|
You can relax. You can't conceive by me, not like this."
|
|
"Don't tell me that your people and mine can't crossbreed! You
|
|
already told me you do!"
|
|
"You're right. We can and must. But it's a complicated
|
|
process..."
|
|
"How complicated can it be?" Dana interrupted. "All it takes is
|
|
sperm and ova!"
|
|
"I can explain if you want..."
|
|
"I want," she said flatly, trying to ignore the little knot of
|
|
fear in her stomach. The absolute *last* thing she needed to have to deal
|
|
with right now was an unplanned pregnancy. Fionn leaned back against the
|
|
bed, looking completely undisturbed. That was both reassuring and
|
|
irritating.
|
|
"For me to have a child with you I would have to... to force it.
|
|
It could not happen naturally. I would have to use my mind to unite
|
|
the..." he paused, as if searching for words. "The male and female
|
|
parts... sperm and egg?" He looked at her questioningly and she nodded,
|
|
encouraging him to go on.
|
|
"It has to be done that way because humans can't conceive by us any
|
|
other way. Then I would have to undergo Change, and take the... the..."
|
|
he looked frustrated. "I'm sorry, I don't know the words. I would have
|
|
to take what results from that union from you and take it into myself,
|
|
into my female self. I would have to carry the child, since we learned
|
|
long ago that if a human carries a Sidhe child, it is almost always born
|
|
Human, rather than Sidhe."
|
|
She stared at him, stunned. "You're talking about surrogacy!"
|
|
"What's that?"
|
|
"Removal of an zygote from the original parent an placing it in a
|
|
host to be carried to term."
|
|
"Zygote?" he asked, puzzled.
|
|
"The fertilized egg."
|
|
"Oh, then yes, that's exactly what I meant."
|
|
"But... how do you take the zygote? It's obvious your medical
|
|
technology is almost non-existent!"
|
|
"We have never needed it. We move the... zygote," he looked
|
|
rather pleased with himself for remembering the word. "...the same way we
|
|
create it. Telekinesis."
|
|
"I would think that would destroy it."
|
|
"No, it happens so quickly it does no damage, but it must be done
|
|
before it makes a home in the human woman's womb. After that, it must be
|
|
left where it is or it will die."
|
|
"So conception between a Sidhe and a human can't happen naturally?"
|
|
Dana asked, just to be sure she wasn't misunderstanding him.
|
|
He shook his head. "No, never."
|
|
She relaxed, feeling reprieved. "Well, that's a relief. I could
|
|
just see me trying to explain a baby to Mulder."
|
|
Fionn grinned. "Surely he knows how they're created."
|
|
"That's *not* what I meant and you know it!" Dana said, trying not
|
|
to grin and spoil the effect. She remembered something she'd meant to ask
|
|
him earlier, before she got... distracted. A smile curved her mouth at
|
|
the memory of that distraction. He was incredible! She managed to drag
|
|
her attention back to the present.
|
|
"You said the first historical event you could remember was the
|
|
destruction of Mona. I don't remember that, what was it?"
|
|
His expression hardened, went distant. "The Isle of Mona. The
|
|
historian Tacitus wrote of it in his Annals. Julius Caesar ordered its
|
|
destruction in order to crush the spirit of the tribes of Britain. My
|
|
brother Ciaran was there, studying... he was only a boy, just past his
|
|
first Change. They killed him along with all the rest. I felt his death
|
|
inside me as if it were my own. For a long time after that, I hunted
|
|
Romans."
|
|
Dana realized her mouth was open and she shut it with a snap that
|
|
hurt her teeth. He couldn't possibly mean what it sounded like he meant.
|
|
He simply couldn't. She dredged her voice out of wherever it had hidden
|
|
and spoke.
|
|
"Fionn... Julius Caesar invaded Britain in... god, what was it? I
|
|
learned it in Western Civ... I think it was 45 BCE! You couldn't possibly
|
|
have been alive then!"
|
|
He looked at her, was she imagining a trace of disdain on his face?
|
|
"Why not? Barring accident or murder, my kind lives forever."
|
|
Dana shook her head, feeling as if she'd suddenly lost her balance.
|
|
"It's impossible!"
|
|
"I can't prove it, but I lived it," he said softly.
|
|
She kept shaking her head, nearly overcome by the urge to laugh.
|
|
"You're joking with me!"
|
|
"No, I'm not."
|
|
"Are you talking about reincarnation?" she asked, grasping at
|
|
straws.
|
|
He shook his head. "No. A single lifetime... infinitely long."
|
|
She ran a hand through her hair. "This sounds like an episode of
|
|
Star Trek!"
|
|
To her surprise he grinned. "Aye, it does. I remember that one,
|
|
`Requiem for Methuselah', a good story."
|
|
She inched away, feeling afraid for the first time. "The stress
|
|
has finally gotten to me! My god... an elf who watches Star Trek! I
|
|
can't believe I'm making this up! I was never any good at creative
|
|
writing! Wait... maybe I'm dreaming..."
|
|
He drew her toward him, his hand gentle against her hair.
|
|
"No, Dana. You're neither mad, or dreaming. We are real, we are
|
|
natural, in our own way. It's strange... you didn't balk at the idea that
|
|
we change our gender, that we are telepathic and telekinetic, that we are
|
|
living myth... but you can't accept that we are long-lived?"
|
|
"Not that long! Fionn, that's over two *thousand* years! No one
|
|
could possibly live that long!"
|
|
He rubbed his lips across her knuckles and looked at her
|
|
apologetically. "Would it help if I looked like Mel Brooks?" he asked.
|
|
She stared, not understanding for a moment, then suddenly she
|
|
remembered watching a video clip of Mel Brooks and Carl Reiner doing their
|
|
classic `Two Thousand Year Old Man' routine. Her lips twitched. His did
|
|
too. A moment later his smile broke free, and hers followed. She started
|
|
to laugh. It took her a long time to stop, but when she did she shook a
|
|
finger at him.
|
|
"You watch too much television!"
|
|
He looked embarrassed. "Guilty as charged, television fascinates
|
|
me. It is so... immediate, so malleable. In television you can do
|
|
whatever you want, create anything. In some ways it's like our abilities,
|
|
only it's far more influential. A dangerous medium, if misused."
|
|
"You've got that right," Dana said, eyeing him speculatively. "So,
|
|
I'm not crazy and you're not either... I really am sitting here with a
|
|
two- thousand year old elf who can change gender at will and manipulate
|
|
reality with his... or her mind?"
|
|
"You are."
|
|
She sighed and relaxed back onto the bed, lounging on one elbow.
|
|
"Mulder will kill me when I tell him about this."
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"For having all this fun without him."
|
|
"Fun?" Fionn smiled. "Would you really want him to share in
|
|
our... fun?"
|
|
Dana felt herself blush and chuffed irritably. "Will you be
|
|
serious? I meant that he would be fascinated by your story. He still
|
|
will be."
|
|
"He won't believe you."
|
|
"Oh yes he will! You don't know Mulder, he probably knows all
|
|
about the Sidhe. I bet when I tell him, he'll pull out an X-File on you!"
|
|
Fionn's eyes narrowed. "What is... an X-File?"
|
|
"That's what I do... we hunt down extraordinary criminals, and
|
|
we've had some pretty bizarre ones. That's where I ran into Brother
|
|
Andrew... the one you said might be Sidhe."
|
|
"He was a criminal?" Fionn was frowning, his expression almost
|
|
incredulous, as if he thought such a thing impossible.
|
|
She shook her head. "Not him, but a friend of his, who was using
|
|
his pheromones to kill. They were part of a group called The Kindred, we
|
|
thought they were an isolationist religious sect, but they turned out to
|
|
be a lot more than that."
|
|
"There is a *group* of these people? How many?" Fionn demanded,
|
|
his expression intense and focused. For some reason this was important to
|
|
him.
|
|
"Oh, twenty or thirty I think, I don't know that I saw them all."
|
|
He leaned forward. "Where? Where are they?"
|
|
"I... don't know. They disappeared from their farm in
|
|
Massachusetts when we traced the killer's origin to them, and haven't been
|
|
seen or heard from since."
|
|
"Damn!" Fionn closed his eyes and slammed a fist into the cushions,
|
|
startling her into backing away. Immediately he opened his eyes and put
|
|
out his hand toward her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I
|
|
hoped..." He broke off for a moment, shaking his head. "I had hoped that
|
|
I could find this other group, and that they would be enough different
|
|
from us to be a partial solution to our problem. As it is, each
|
|
successive generation becomes less Sidhe and more Human." His voice and
|
|
expression were bleak. Dana knew he was talking about the end of his
|
|
people, and felt tears rise.
|
|
"Fionn..." she began, wanting to offer comfort, but couldn't think
|
|
of a way to convey her feelings. What did you say to a member of a
|
|
species facing extinction? Nothing. There was nothing to say. Fionn
|
|
shook his head, and reached out to touch her face lightly, then his hand
|
|
dropped and he looked away.
|
|
"I thought of asking you, you know."
|
|
"Asking me what?"
|
|
"To mate with me, not just be my lover. But I thought you would
|
|
say no, so I didn't ask."
|
|
Dana stared at him, stunned. "Whaaat?"
|
|
He still didn't look at her, but rather stared off into the fire.
|
|
"I knew you would feel that way. That's why I didn't ask."
|
|
"Wait, what are you saying? I'm not sure I'm clear... do you mean
|
|
that you wanted to use one of *my* ova?"
|
|
He nodded, Dana studied him, completely floored. It was the first
|
|
time anyone had ever wanted to... procreate with her. Not just have sex,
|
|
but actually create a child. It was the strangest feeling! Flattering,
|
|
frightening, and a bit exhilarating, all rolled into one. It reminded her
|
|
just a bit of the way she'd felt just before the first time she'd ever had
|
|
sex, and her first day at Quantico... the same kind of fearful
|
|
anticipation. She smiled finally, knowing she was blushing too.
|
|
"I'm flattered, Fionn. No one's ever asked me that before."
|
|
He faced her finally, surprised. "I find that hard to believe."
|
|
She shrugged. "It's true."
|
|
"Then your men are fools," he said bluntly.
|
|
She grinned. "My `men,' as you put it, know better. So did you,
|
|
obviously. I must admit, your offer is more intriguing than the standard
|
|
variety would be, since you'd be the one doing all the work."
|
|
He grinned back. "That is one advantage to our way."
|
|
"It certainly is. I know a lot of people who would probably love
|
|
it if it were an option for humans as well as Sidhe."
|
|
"I would teach it if I could, but I can't."
|
|
"Too bad," she sighed and watched him for a moment, suddenly
|
|
realizing that he was gazing at her warily, almost hopefully. She didn't
|
|
want to mislead him. "Really, I am flattered, but you were right. I grew
|
|
up in a pretty close family, and I... can't see doing that, knowing I had
|
|
a child somewhere but not being part of its life."
|
|
His gaze fell and his disappointment was obvious, but he nodded.
|
|
"It is your choice. Once I might not have asked, but I'm no longer that
|
|
person. If you ever change your mind..."
|
|
"You'll be the first to know. Fionn..."
|
|
He looked up at the question in her voice. "Yes?"
|
|
"Thank you for trusting me to help Eithne. It was... an incredible
|
|
experience. For the most part my medical practice has been limited to the
|
|
dead, so to help a child be born... I can't describe the feeling. I was
|
|
honored."
|
|
"I know the feeling, and thank you for helping. Without you I
|
|
might have lost both Lon-Dubh and Eithne. It would be hard to lose my
|
|
grandchild, but harder still my daughter."
|
|
Dana stiffened. "Your dau... I thought she was your sister!"
|
|
"A fiction we use among humans since to you we seem too close in
|
|
age to be parent and child, but Eithne is my youngest."
|
|
Dana digested that, trying to reconcile her image of him with that
|
|
fact. It was hard. "How... how many children do you have, all told?"
|
|
He smiled "Do you truly want to know?"
|
|
Dana thought about his apparent lifespan, and the number of
|
|
children that could be born over that much time. She shivered. "Yes."
|
|
"Eight, still with me. Ten, if you count Madarua who died, and
|
|
Faoilean who was Taken."
|
|
She thought of how sad it must be to lose a child and felt tears in
|
|
her eyes. "I'm sorry." she whispered.
|
|
"Please, don't be. I remember them with no sorrow now. It has
|
|
been a long, long time, and they were gone before their Naming."
|
|
Dana felt confused. "I thought you called them..."
|
|
"Those were child-names, like Lon-Dubh. When a Sidhe child is born
|
|
we name it after an animal they resemble. At first Change, when they
|
|
choose a principal gender, they also choose an adult name."
|
|
"What does... Londu mean?"
|
|
He smiled at her mispronunciation. "Blackbird."
|
|
She smiled. "Appropriate."
|
|
"Aye."
|
|
"And the other two?"
|
|
"Faoilean means Seagull, and Madrua is Fox."
|
|
"Fox? That's funny!"
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"My partner's first name is Fox. He hates it though."
|
|
"It's an odd name for a human child. Why was he named that?"
|
|
She shook her head, with a wry laugh. "God only knows... he
|
|
doesn't talk about it at all. I tried to call him that once, I thought he
|
|
was going to crawl under the seat."
|
|
Fionn chuckled. "Humans don't deal well with things out of the
|
|
ordinary... most of them anyway. Strange that you should have a friend
|
|
named the same as my child."
|
|
"Synchronicity perhaps... stranger things have happened. Like me,
|
|
being here with you..." Dana leaned over and kissed him softly, taking
|
|
his face between her palms. A moment later she was sliding her fingers
|
|
through the thick silk of his hair and licking at the sensually modeled
|
|
curve of his mouth. He made a throaty murmur of pleasure that sent
|
|
shivers through her, and his arms encircled her. When she finally drew
|
|
back they were both breathing hard.
|
|
"Dana..." Fionn said hoarsely. "I thought you were tired."
|
|
"So did I," she said, catching her lower lip in her teeth for a
|
|
second. "I guess I was wrong. Am I too demanding for an old man like
|
|
you?" she teased.
|
|
"Old man?" he roared indignantly.
|
|
The next thing she knew she was on her back beneath him, his hips
|
|
wedged firmly between her thighs, the rigid length of him full and hard
|
|
against her waiting softness. She arched upward, eyes closing so she
|
|
could concentrate on the way he slid and stroked where she was most
|
|
sensitive. She let her fingers move over the firm planes of his chest, up
|
|
to his shoulders, and into his hair again. There was something incredibly
|
|
provocative about the way it felt in her fingers. He was a lot of firsts
|
|
for her, even had he been human. Her first long-haired man with an
|
|
earring... she smiled to herself; he would look bad on her security
|
|
clearance. He was also the first lover she'd ever taken so impulsively,
|
|
she wasn't given to acting impetuously. His mouth dropped to her breast
|
|
and suckled gently, making her arch and cry out, wanting him so bad it
|
|
almost hurt. Another first... he was the first man to pleasure her like
|
|
this, to know her almost as well as she knew herself. Telepathy was
|
|
definitely an asset in a lover.
|
|
She felt empty, and wanted filling. He filled her. A long, slow,
|
|
patient entry that gave her time to adjust, and time to want more. She
|
|
pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him hotly, open-mouthed, sensual.
|
|
When he was finally fully inside her she thought of how he'd felt when he
|
|
was beneath her. He smiled and shifted onto his side, then onto his back,
|
|
yielding wordlessly to her desire. She braced her hands on his shoulders
|
|
and circled her hips, drowning in the feel of him, the scent of him, the
|
|
perfect mesh of their bodies. With a hushed moan she felt pleasure roll
|
|
over her, softly this time, and she dissolved, sensation tumbling over and
|
|
over like grains of sand in the surf. She sank down against him, closing
|
|
her eyes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The rumble of her stomach wouldn't let her lie in bed any longer.
|
|
Dana rolled over and sat up, wincing a little. She felt like she'd been
|
|
`rode hard and put away wet' as the saying went. She smiled then,
|
|
remembering *why* she felt like that. What a night! She stretched
|
|
languidly and pulled on her sweats. Maire was going to give her hell for
|
|
disappearing again. Or maybe not... after all, she knew what was going
|
|
on. She was the one who had told her where to find Fionn. She smiled,
|
|
her uncharacteristically impulsive fling had definitely been worthwhile.
|
|
She hadn't felt so relaxed in months.
|
|
She wandered into the kitchen and found it empty, the dogs nowhere
|
|
in sight. Maire must be out walking them. She put on the kettle to boil
|
|
and looked in the larder to see what else there might be to eat. She was
|
|
hungry... *really* hungry, as if she hadn't eaten in days!
|
|
She was just pulling out the leftover soda bread when the door
|
|
opened, admitting Angus and Brenna who bounded over to see what she was
|
|
doing. Maire was a moment behind them, and she stopped, her walking stick
|
|
dropping to the floor when she saw Dana. Her expression went from shock
|
|
to relief in a matter of seconds, and she hurried forward to wrap her arms
|
|
around her in a fierce embrace.
|
|
"Ah child! You scared the life out of me! I'll not ask where
|
|
you've been, but next time you might give me some warning!"
|
|
Dana returned the hug, then stepped back, a bit surprised. "You
|
|
told me to go to the circle... you knew what I'd find."
|
|
"Aye, but I didn't expect you to be gone for four days!
|
|
"Four..." Dana gaped for a moment, then she remembered Maire
|
|
telling her about how time flows differently in the Sidhe dimension... or
|
|
whatever it was. She laughed, shaking her head. "Four days? God, no
|
|
wonder I'm starving! The man really ought to feed a girl if he's gonna
|
|
keep her in bed for four days!"
|
|
Maire laughed, and shook her head. "He couldn't. Once you taste
|
|
Faery food you're obligated to stay with them in their world."
|
|
"I thought that was Persephone," Dana said, confused.
|
|
"The stories are rather similar."
|
|
"Well, couldn't he have just gotten take-out or something?"
|
|
Maire opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again and grinned.
|
|
"Do I take it that you're enjoying your vacation, then?"
|
|
"You do. But I don't have much of it left, do I? If I was gone
|
|
four days then I only have three left."
|
|
Maire looked away uncomfortably. "I'm afraid you may not even have
|
|
that," she picked up a piece of paper from the table and held it out.
|
|
"You got a call while you were gone... someone named McGrath. He said he
|
|
needs you to come back."
|
|
Dana groaned, shaking her head in dismay. "It figures! The
|
|
bastard can't even let me enjoy my vacation in peace! When did he call?"
|
|
"The day after you... left."
|
|
"Damn! What did you tell him?"
|
|
Maire grinned. "I told him you were on a walking tour and that
|
|
since I had no way to reach you, his message would have to wait until you
|
|
contacted me. Let me tell you, he wasn't very happy."
|
|
"I'll bet he was livid!" Dana said, chuckling. Well, I guess I'd
|
|
better call him. If you send me the bill when it comes, I'll have the
|
|
office reimburse you for the trans-Atlantic call."
|
|
Maire shook her head. "There's no need, I'm comfortable."
|
|
"No, really, I want to do it. Besides, it'll annoy McGrath."
|
|
"In that case, I'll send you the bill," Maire said with a wicked
|
|
smile. Dana winked as she picked up the phone and started dialing.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
####
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
An hour later Dana was on her back to the airport to catch the next
|
|
flight back to the States. She was a little depressed, for several
|
|
reasons. First by the fact that she hadn't gotten her full nine days,
|
|
second because she had barely started getting to know Maire, and third she
|
|
had been forced to leave without saying any kind of goodbye to Fionn. Not
|
|
that it really mattered, it wasn't like they were anything more than
|
|
casual lovers, but she didn't feel right about just *leaving* without a
|
|
word. Thinking of going home made her feel oddly nervous. She was torn
|
|
between wanting to tell Mulder all about the odd experiences she had had,
|
|
and wishing she could forget all about them. Her indecision was partly
|
|
due to the fact that having a romantic fling with a stranger was out of
|
|
character for her... or rather, for the character she had carefully
|
|
created over the past few years at the Bureau. She also simply couldn't
|
|
see herself talking to Mulder about it at all, yet it was an integral part
|
|
of what happened. The worst part was that after this... well, she simply
|
|
couldn't deny that some things were far stranger than she had thought
|
|
possible. She had worked hard to maintain a certain detachment from their
|
|
cases, and this tried it sorely.
|
|
It started to rain, and fog swirled across the road, causing her to
|
|
drive even more slowly than she would have to watch out for the occasional
|
|
sheep or cow. She passed a hitchhiker, and almost stopped, but despite
|
|
her experience with Fionn, she was too aware of possible dangers to go
|
|
picking up strange men on the road no matter how wet and miserable they
|
|
might be. Oddly, a few miles further on she passed the same hitchhiker,
|
|
or at least one dressed the same. No one had passed her on the road, so
|
|
how had he gotten ahead of her? It was strange, but maybe there was a
|
|
road that paralleled the main one, and he had gotten a ride there. When
|
|
she spotted a third hitchhiker she suddenly started to smile. Even half a
|
|
mile away there was no mistaking that outfit; an indecently short linen
|
|
tunic and checkered cloak. In the daylight she could tell it was a purple,
|
|
blue and saffron plaid. Revolting, really. He had great taste in Human
|
|
fashions but.... She slowed to a stop next to him and rolled down the
|
|
window.
|
|
"Need a lift?" she asked, grining.
|
|
He shook his head, leaning down to peer inside the car, carefully
|
|
not touching it. "Nah, just out for a walk."
|
|
"In the pouring rain?"
|
|
"Is it raining?" he asked.
|
|
She looked closer... he was bone dry, as was her windshield, and
|
|
the road ahead. Behind her the back window and the road behind glistened
|
|
wetly in the mirror.
|
|
"Handy talent, that."
|
|
He nodded, grinning. "Invaluable. You're leaving, I didn't want
|
|
you to go without saying good bye."
|
|
"I didn't either, but I didn't think I had a choice."
|
|
"I made one for you. Will you come out of there so I can touch
|
|
you? The metal..."
|
|
"Of course!" She opened the door and stepped out. Before she
|
|
could think she was in his arms, held against the hard warmth of his body.
|
|
She felt tears rise and blinked them back, feeling stupid. It wasn't as
|
|
though they were in love...
|
|
"Isn't it?"
|
|
She drew back and glared at him. "Damn it, don't you dare read my
|
|
mind!"
|
|
"How can I help it when you're all but shouting at me?" Fionn
|
|
demanded, seeming a little annoyed himself.
|
|
"I was not!"
|
|
"How do you know what you sound like to me?"
|
|
She opened her mouth and realized she had no answer. "I... don't.
|
|
I'm sorry."
|
|
He nodded, slightly mollified, then took her hands in his. "Dana,
|
|
as much as one of my kind can love, I do."
|
|
"Oh, Fionn... don't, I can't..."
|
|
"I know you can't, it doesn't matter. I care about you and that is
|
|
all that matters to me. I had Brede make this for you..." He held out a
|
|
small object dangling from a fine gold chain. Before she could protest he
|
|
had looped it around her neck, and it dangled between her breasts. She
|
|
lifted it and looked at it, puzzled. It was a small cylinder about an
|
|
inch and a half long, with a cut-out at one end and three tiny holes in
|
|
it. Despite being hollow, it was heavy, she guessed it was gold, like the
|
|
chain and his hair-clasp and the coin left by her bed. "It looks like a
|
|
whistle..."
|
|
He grinned. "Good guess."
|
|
"What's it for?"
|
|
"To summon me."
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"If you need me, for whatever reason... be it danger, or desire. I
|
|
will come to you."
|
|
"From half a world away?" she asked, jokingly.
|
|
"From a world and a half away," he said solemnly, his green eyes
|
|
shadowy and dark. "However far, no matter what, I will come. It is not a
|
|
promise I give lightly,"
|
|
She shook her head slowly. "No, I can see that."
|
|
He touched the whistle with a fingertip, and smiled. "Once it
|
|
would have been a hunting horn, but I thought perhaps you would find this
|
|
easier to explain."
|
|
She laughed softly. "Decidedly. How does it work."
|
|
He grinned. "You just put your lips together, and blow."
|
|
She stared at him blankly, and he shook his head and sighed. "Ah,
|
|
before your time, I see. I watch too much television, and you don't watch
|
|
enough. To summon me, just blow it. A single call will tell me you
|
|
desire me, two that you need my aid."
|
|
"I don't see how you could possibly hear..."
|
|
"I am bound into it. Brede forged it with my blood. I cannot help
|
|
but hear it, no matter where I am."
|
|
Dana looked at it and shuddered. "In your blood?"
|
|
He nodded and held out his arm. A fading scar ran down the inside
|
|
of his forearm, it looked weeks old. "We heal quickly." he said at her
|
|
questioning look. She had no reason to doubt him, the scar hadn't been
|
|
there the last time she'd seen him.
|
|
She touched the scar lightly, then leaned down to press her lips
|
|
against it. "I don't take your gift lightly, Fionn, Thank you."
|
|
"You're welcome. Now I have another gift... one you may not like
|
|
as well..."
|
|
"What?" Almost before the word was out of her mouth he reached out
|
|
and touched her on the forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed and she
|
|
sagged, he caught her and eased her slowly to the ground, which was no
|
|
longer a road, but a meadow. There was no trace of her car. He looked
|
|
down at her, his mouth drawn down in quiet unhappiness.
|
|
"I'm sorry," he said aloud, as if she could hear him, needing to
|
|
explain somehow. "I know you wouldn't want me to do this, but Taliesin
|
|
tells me you should not tell your friend of us, and he's been right too
|
|
many times for me to take the chance. He thought I should erase your
|
|
memory altogether, but I don't want you to forget me, so I will only
|
|
change it a little, make it more... ordinary," he smiled, and shook his
|
|
head. "I wish the same could be done for me."
|
|
He stopped talking and slipped into her dreaming mind, changing a
|
|
memory here and there, weaving the whole into a slightly different
|
|
reality. Finally satisfied he sighed and sat back. Looking at the
|
|
whistle he smiled, and made one last adjustment, then the landscape
|
|
altered and they were back on the road behind her car. Using his cloak to
|
|
shield his hands he replaced her in the vehicle, closed the door, and
|
|
stepped away, fading from sight.
|
|
Behind the wheel Dana awoke with a start, looking around with a
|
|
puzzled frown. She remembered getting fogged in, and pulling to the side
|
|
of the road. Now it was sunny... she must have fallen asleep waiting for
|
|
the fog to lift. Not surprising, considering how late she had stayed at
|
|
Fionn's house last night. A secretive little smile curved her mouth as
|
|
she thought of him. He was a bit eccentric, but who cared? He'd been
|
|
exactly what she needed. She started the car and as she reached for the
|
|
gear-shift a movement against her breast caught her attention. She looked
|
|
down at the antique whistle he'd given her, remembering the legend he'd
|
|
told her about it... how blowing it once would bring a long-lost love to
|
|
her, and twice would bring help in a time of need. It was a lovely story.
|
|
A fairy tale. Ireland was full of that sort of thing.
|
|
She sighed. What a week! Between meeting Maire, an emergency
|
|
stint as an obstetrician, and having an all-too-brief affair with Fionn,
|
|
she couldn't say she'd had the restful time she had expected. But it had
|
|
left her feeling relaxed and slightly exhilarated. It was a nice feeling.
|
|
Too bad McGrath had had to go and ruin things just as they were getting
|
|
good! She automatically looked in the rear-view mirror to check for
|
|
traffic and froze with a gasp... what the... she turned quickly but there
|
|
was no one there. She shook her head, that had been odd... for a moment
|
|
she thought she had seen Fionn in the mirror, but that had just been
|
|
wishful thinking. She looked one last time and pulled onto the road,
|
|
speeding just a bit to make up for having lost nearly an hour to a nap.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
###
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dana met Mulder at the airport barely six hours after arriving back
|
|
from Ireland. They had to make a quick stop at the Bureau for a briefing,
|
|
then be off to New York where a case had taken a turn for the weird and
|
|
McGrath, to his extreme annoyance, had ended up sending for them as the
|
|
agents best qualified to handle it. She watched him walk off the plane
|
|
and wondered at how relaxed he looked. Apparently haring off to Colorado
|
|
had been good for him. Maybe he'd gotten in some recreation time up in
|
|
the Rockies. Whatever it was, he looked better than he had in weeks, the
|
|
lines of tension less deeply engraved, and to her surprise he grinned when
|
|
he saw her.
|
|
"Hey, Scully! Long time no see!"
|
|
She grinned back, unable to resist the infectiousness of his smile.
|
|
As he drew even with her she fell into step beside him, taking two paces
|
|
to one of his. Damn all long-legged men anyway... except one.
|
|
"So, how was your trip to Colorado?"
|
|
Mulder's gaze slid away from hers as he replied nonchalantly.
|
|
"Fine. I learned some interesting things, but nothing really helpful."
|
|
Scully wondered at his uncomfortable manner, and at the slight
|
|
flush across his nose and cheekbones. He'd probably gotten in some sort
|
|
of scrape he didn't want to talk about. She was about to prod him for
|
|
more information when he pre-empted her.
|
|
"How was Ireland? Did you have a good time"
|
|
She felt a blush crawl its way up her throat and into her face, and
|
|
cursed her fair skin, not for the first time. "Fine," she managed
|
|
shakily, "...it was... fine, thanks."
|
|
He eyed her as if he didn't quite believe her, but he didn't say
|
|
anything. She decided discretion was the better part of valor and didn't
|
|
ask him any more about Colorado.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The End
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
The song lyrics used in part 2 are from "Fear" by Sarah McLaughlin from
|
|
her CD "Fumbling Toward Ecstasy."
|
|
--
|
|
Kellie Matthews-Simmons
|
|
matthewk@spot.colorado.edu
|
|
|