EVER I SAW by SAM3 suzannem3@usa.net Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Disclaimer: No names are mentioned, but it should be obvious (I hope it's obvious!) who this story is about, so just in case, I didn't create them, Chris Carter did. They belong to someone else, not me. No infringement is intended. MSR, A, V Summary: No Plot, No Timeline, No names mentioned, precious little dialogue. What could be left? Oh, yeah, that's right. Rating NC17 - again, nothing much is mentioned by name, but it should be obvious (I hope it's obvious!) what is happening in this story. Archive: Yes but include authour name and disclaimers etc Dedication: To SAM, the best virtual friend in the world, and the reallest! And to DJ, who proffered song titles instead of feedback (I've got the power! - like WOW!:-) and for playing my song. It's always nice to be appreciated, and since feedback is the only reward for fan fiction, please, please, please send feedback, to suzannem3@usa.net. I guess I have been reading too much NC 17, too much flickfic, too much?everything, I decided I wanted to try to avoid focussing on the physical description of lovemaking without sacrificing any of the emotional strength of this act of completion between these two lovers. Maybe you can tell me if I succeeded in my intent. Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx He was lost in her. Finally, completely lost. It had been so long, she had been so long, and he couldn't contain it, couldn't think, couldn't control the frustration that overwhelmed him. Like a moth to a candle flame he could only beat himself against her, losing himself, losing her in his desperate grasp. He cried out, in fear, in frustration at the aloneness until her hands brought him back, back to himself, back to her. Stroking his face, through his hair, her lips whispered like kisses on his lips, his eyes, soothing against his brow, rescuing him from the brink of madness, the sweet reason of her presence claiming him, freeing him from the temporary insanity that consumed him. He could feel, could think, and marvel at the connection between them, that nothing, not time, not distance, not even death could sever. And it had never been more strong, more sure than now. No less tangible than the touch of her hands, or the look in her eyes that spoke of her understanding, that she had been lost too, and he clung to her the way a drowning man clutches a life raft, shaking with the fear that had been revealed between them. He buried his head in her shoulder as she held him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry?" Tears of desperation, or tears of relief? He didn't know if there was a difference, or even if it mattered. The two extremes of emotion became one in her arms, as she soothed him with her touch, with her voice, telling him it was alright, that she was there, she was always there, she knew, and she did know. They were the same in this, and even as he began to feel ashamed of his outburst he could feel a fierceness from her, of protectiveness, of acceptance, even tenderness in her affirmation that this?between them was more powerful than either of them. She knew he needed her to ground him as much as she needed him to? He lifted himself up to look at her, the answer there in her eyes, she needed him to?make her flesh spirit, to make her blood sing with desire and make her heart beat like a soaring bird. He gazed into the endless blue expanse of her eyes and saw everything. She was there, in his arms, her strong, small body naked beneath his, her arms around him as he moved within her, not lost, he wasn't lost, and he watched in wonder as she opened herself to him. He had never imagined how exquisitely beautiful she would look as she surrendered a tremulous smile, then allowed the unrestrained intensity of her love for him to suffuse her features, I Love You, I love you, I love you, written in flesh, spoken in the parting of her lips and the exultation of her expression. I love you, too. Said with his hands cupping her face tenderly. In his body gently thrusting into hers. Her body's response her reply to him, no distance between them now at all. He could feel her need as surely as his own, could feel her thoughts, her emotions as though they were one person, one mind instead of two. And she was there. She was there, it was real and she was making love to him, her body, flesh and blood and bone rising and falling with the tide of passion, beneath him, seeking completion, seeking perfection. I. And he could see it in her eyes, the rainbow at the end of the world, the end of his search in unlooked for perfection, and then she spoke to him, so strange that her voice was clear like a bell, so certain and strong. So her. "Don't let me go." And he smiled and shook his head, unable to trust that if he formed sounds in his throat and expelled them from his mouth that they would form into intelligible words. Let his body speak. His hands found hers, fingers entwined, he wouldn't let go, never let go of her. I won't let go. Love. Let instinct take over, deeper inside her, inside himself to find her, her body giving in to his, to accept him more completely. Hold me. As he thrust into her again, felt her gasp her pleasure, her breath expelling from her lungs as though he was replacing her need for air with the primal expression of this connection. Thrust again, feel her feet flat on the bed, body coiling, poised for flight. "Hold me." And he was almost overcome, not quite, not yet, by the sweetness of her entreaty, by the golden warmth at her core, with which she held him, the urgency with which her mouth bathed his face with cool moisture and seared him with hot breath. The fierceness of her passion was unlike anything he'd experienced from her and yet was exactly as he had expected, hoped, imagined. She moved with him, taking him further, demanding more, needing more, grasping for completion with their fingers twined and their bodies joined. You. "You." Her eyes held him as she whispered the word, not strong and clear, a mere shuddering of breath, but no less certain, undeniable conviction, he couldn't deny it, for one moment of shimmering perfection he was everything, everything she wanted, everything she needed, she loved him. He strove to keep her there, his control a ragged thing, the pleasure that connected them eclipsing everything. And she flung herself into the air to meet him there. He held her for a long time afterwards, finally unclasping his fingers from hers to stroke her hair, tangling in and combing through silken copper strands. I won't let go. Ever. And he smiled at her, an x file this, full blown telepathic connection. Watched her eyebrow raise and her answering smile. Don't even think about it. No doubt about it at all. He settled against her, and let his body relax as a prelude to sleep. She curled into him, warm and soft, her skin against his reforming the connection that held them together, and he kissed her, felt the unspoken thread of communication in their touch. Goodnight. I love you. Always. They could talk in the morning. THE END Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx SAM3 suzannem3@usa.net 'Mulder loves Scully, and Scully loves Mulder.' - Chris Carter "Five years together, Scully. You must have seen this coming." - Fox Mulder