TITLE:  World Without End: Book Two (10/?)
AUTHOR:  Rachel Anton
E-MAIL:  RAnton1013@aol.com

xxxxxx


"So why'd you leave for work so early this morning?"

Dana looks up at me, her mouth full of the Irish Stew 
I've been spending the last two hours cooking for her 
birthday dinner.  It's her favorite.  Well, her 
favorite thing I can make with the limited 
ingredients available.  Her eyes flicker and reflect 
the dim light coming from the utility candles I snuck 
out of the warehouse this morning.  She chews, 
swallows and takes a drink of water.  Then she wipes 
the corner of her mouth with her napkin.  The whole 
process seems to take an inordinately long period of 
time.

"I needed...I had to fix the pipe again."  Her eyes 
drift down to her plate as she speaks.  "The heat 
wasn't working when I left yesterday so I figured I'd 
go down there early and get it going before everyone 
else got there."

She's lying to me.  I just know it.  It's all over 
her face.  She's the worst liar in the world.

I suppose I've got no right to be angry about that.  
When she got home earlier the first thing she asked 
me was what I had done today.  I didn't tell her 
about Marita.  A lie of omission, which is really 
just as bad.

I wanted to tell her.  I still want to.  I want to 
know what the hell she thinks I oughtta do about this 
whole thing.  I need to know.  I've always needed her 
advice, her input, before I even realized that I 
needed her.  But trying to explain my relationship 
with that man, with Marita's goddamn father for 
Christ's sake, would be very difficult.  I'm sure 
Dana remembers him.  I'm sure she wouldn't trust him.  
I could never explain why I do.  Not without telling 
her things she refuses to hear.

And frankly, telling her about my meeting with Marita 
would mean telling her about the pathetic little show 
I put on.  She'd be disgusted to hear how low I've 
sunk.  How far into the mud that woman drags me.

And of course, I'd have to leave out the part about 
Marita's veiled threats towards the end of our 
conversation.  Threats to tell Scully the things I've 
been trying to tell her for months.  Things she won't 
let me talk about but, for all I know, might be dying 
to hear from someone else.  And that would be the 
end.

So, I have my reasons for keeping my secrets for the 
time being.  I suppose she has hers.  The problem is, 
her secrets have the potential to completely destroy 
me.  She has that potential.  I've only just recently 
realized that.

I've had my eye on Mulder lately.  Ever since that 
so-called truce of ours.  He told me he was willing 
to let her go but I've seen no evidence of that.  All 
I've seen is him sniffing around her like a stray dog 
looking for food, putting his mangy paws all over her 
as soon as I take two steps away.  Not that I 
expected him to keep that promise.  Not that I 
believed a word out of his mouth that day.  The whole 
thing was just impossible to swallow.

Dana might think that he's the good guy here, the 
innocent, pathetic, smitten ex-love who only wants 
what's best for her, only wants to be her friend.  
But I know what he really wants.

So, maybe it's paranoid for me to analyze everything 
she says and does.  Maybe I shouldn't feel like my 
heart is being gouged out every time she fudges the 
truth a little bit.  And maybe if the former love of 
her life wasn't spending more time with her than I 
am, things would be different.  I guess there's no 
way for me to know, because she didn't lie to me a 
single time before he came here.

Still though, I'm not entirely sure this has anything 
to do with Mulder.  I'm not really sure what it's 
about.  I just know that she's hiding something.

"This was really good," she sighs, leaning back in 
her chair, her plate completely empty.  Then she 
belches.  For some reason it makes the lie seem less 
important.  I can't imagine her belching like that in 
front of anyone else.

"Thank you, Alex."

"You're welcome, Burpee."

She throws her napkin at me and giggles.

"Let me get you your present."

She looks me up and down as I stand up, intending to 
go back to the bedroom and get her gift.  Her 
expression distracts me.  She's still hungry.

"Don't go anywhere," I tell her.  And don't lose that 
look.  I lean down and kiss her softly.  I only meant 
it to be a peck but as soon as my lips touch hers her 
mouth opens up and I feel her tongue pressing 
insistently against me.  Her hand snakes around to 
the back of my head and she grips me tight.

"Lemme...I wanted to get your present..."  I tell her 
as she starts kissing and nipping at my ears and 
neck.  She shakes her head and makes a pained sound.

"Don't.  Don't go."

"I was just...it's just in the bedroom."

"Don't.  Just, God, don't go," she whimpers.  She 
stands up, pressing her body into mine and pushing me 
backwards.  I fall back into my chair, and she kisses 
me again.  I suppose there will be time for presents 
later.

Her tongue twists and pokes in my mouth and she 
starts unbuttoning my shirt with frantic, clumsy 
fingers.  She's shaking.  This isn't right.

Don't get me wrong.  Horny Dana is not something I've 
got a problem with.  Ever.  And she hasn't been 
making an appearance as often as I would have liked 
lately so this should be making my day.  But there's 
something about this particular brand of horniness 
that strikes me as odd.  It's almost as if she's 
afraid I'll disappear if she doesn't take me right 
now.  As if we'll never be together again.  It 
reminds me of the way she makes love to me the night 
before a battle.

"Dana, Dana, slow down," I pant, feeling her nails 
rake across my chest and her teeth digging into my 
jaw.  Well, my mind may be protesting but my body's 
going right along with the plan.

"Dana, please."

I grab her two hands in my one and she pulls back and 
shakes her head questioningly.

"What?  What is it?"

"I dunno.  You tell me.  Where's the fire?"

She blinks at me a few times and I notice that her 
eyes are dilated and dark.  Wild.

"Alex, please.  Don't.  Just let me.  Please."

She runs her fingers through my hair, over my face, 
and says it again.  Please.  God, my baby.  My sweet 
devotchka.

Before I have time to react her tongue is back in my 
mouth and her claws are all over me.  Soon she's 
pulling impatiently at her own clothes, and I help 
her with those.  I end up latching onto a tiny hole 
in her blouse and making it ten times bigger in my 
haste to keep up with her frenzied pace.  Her jeans 
and socks come off more easily.  Thank God she took 
off her boots earlier.

And then she's standing before me, completely naked, 
and, as always, I'm reduced to a blathering idiot at 
the sight of her.  My beautiful, tiny goddess.  Her 
body is as flushed as her face.  Red splotches all 
over her skin to match the gorgeous red hair flowing 
over nearly half of her.  So much hair.  It almost 
dwarfs her.

She climbs onto my lap, straddling me, and my hips 
jerk upwards.  I can feel the heat, the white-hot 
intensity of her through my pants and shorts.  She 
hooks her feet around the legs of the chair and 
starts rocking against me, pressing my face between 
her breasts.  I lick and suck her skin obediently, 
feeding her need and finding my own growing with 
every passing second.

"God, Alex...inside.  Now."

Now?  I resist the urge to look at my watch.  But I'm 
pretty sure we've set a new record.  Least amount of 
time to pass between the kissing stage and the 
fucking stage.  Well, okay, there was that first 
night...

I suppose I've waited to long to make a move because 
she's taken the initiative to reach down and unzip my 
pants.  Before you can say "foreplay", she's got my 
dick in her hands and she's pulling on it, rubbing it 
against herself.  And then she's there, rising up and 
sliding down all around me and God, it feels good.

As expected, she starts moving immediately, bouncing 
up and down in hard, fast thrusts that cause the 
chair to rock and slam against the floor on its 
uneven legs.  She braces her hands on my shoulders 
which are still partially covered by the shirt that I 
can't believe I'm still wearing, and digs her nails 
in.

She throws back her head and cries out at the top of 
her lungs and I wrap my arm around her waist to keep 
her from falling.

"MmmmAleeexx," she moans, kisses me and kisses me.  
God, she's going so fast and it's so good, so fucking 
*hot* in there that I don't know if I can last.

"Devotchka...sl...slow," I try but she shakes her 
head violently and goes even faster.

"Need you.  Alex.  God...need you so bad."

Her eyes are closed.  There are tears running down 
her cheeks.  She's crying.  My God.  She's crying.

"Shh, shh, I'm right here baby," I whisper against 
her mouth.  Her teeth grip my lower lip savagely and 
she grabs a fistful of my hair.

She starts shuddering and rocking, and I feel her 
tightening around me.  Twitching with the beginnings 
of an orgasm.

"Oh God, need you, need you...AlexAlexAlexAhh," she 
drifts off into a long, keening cry and I feel her 
coming around me, tightening and pulling me deeper.  
And then I let myself go because I can't stand it any 
longer and it's over anyhow.  I groan and squeeze her 
tightly against my chest as I shoot and spasm inside 
of her and she sags against me, suddenly lifeless as 
a ragdoll.

Her head lolls on my shoulder and her arms wrap 
around my neck as I come down from my orgasmic high.  
God, what the hell was that?

"I'm sorry," she murmurs quietly into my neck.  I 
take her chin in my hand and pull her face up so that 
I can see her.  Her eyes are downcast and her cheeks 
are red.  She looks totally embarrassed.

"No...no, don't be.  Don't be sorry.  Don't ever be 
sorry.  I'm here, devotchka."

She smiles weakly and nods.  I wonder if I will ever 
be able to completely understand her.  I do 
understand need, though.  I understand that it creeps 
up on you sometimes and there's nothing you can do to 
hold it back.  I understand that it's not something 
Dana likes to admit to having.  In fact a declaration 
of need is probably more difficult for her to make 
than one of love.  Well, maybe not.  It's a nice 
thought, though.

In any case, she's made herself very vulnerable and 
that is something I can appreciate.  Knowing that she 
needed me that intensely, for whatever reason, for 
whatever brief moment in time, is certainly something 
to be happy about.  So why do I feel this sense of 
dread coiled in the pit of my stomach?

"Are you okay, Dana?  Really?"

"Yes.  Yes, I'm fine.  Thank you, Alex."

She's taken to thanking me after sex lately.  Another 
ever-since-Mulder's-arrival oddity.  Almost as if I 
were doing her a favor.  Almost as if she expects me 
to leave her any day now.

I kiss her softly, gently, and she responds in kind.

"Do you want your present now?"

She nods enthusiastically and grins.  I stand up with 
her still wrapped around me.  Thankfully she's light 
enough that with her arms and legs around me, I can 
hold her up.  Of course I can't hold my pants up, and 
they fall to my ankles.  We both laugh at the sound 
of the metal on my belt clanking on the floor.  I 
kick them off to the side and carry her to the 
bedroom.

I lay her down on the bed and she curls up under the 
covers as I finish undressing.

"Okay, now close your eyes," I tell her as I fish 
around the drawer in the bedside table.

"Why?  What are you gonna do?"

"God, can you ever just do something without asking a 
million questions?"

"Well, I just did you like that," she laughs and 
closes her eyes.

"Okay, now gimme your hand."

I crawl into bed on her right side and she holds out 
her right hand.

"Nope, other one."

"If it comes back slimy, it's going in your face," 
she says, thrusting her left hand in my direction.  I 
slide the ring on her finger-the one meant for 
wedding rings because even though marriage between us 
human drones is illegal and not really practiced 
anymore, even in our little outlaw community, there's 
still a part of me that holds onto the tradition as 
something meaningful.

"Happy Birthday, baby."

She opens her eyes and looks down at it and so do I.  
It's not bad looking really.  I was pretty surprised 
at how nicely it turned out.  It's just a small piece 
of sheet metal with a piece of blue glass, melted and 
shaped into a circle, embedded in the center.  I 
thought the blue would match her eyes.  It does.  I 
thought it would look huge on her finger.  Boy, does 
it ever.  She'll never forget that she's wearing it.

She gasps when she sees it.  Really gasps.  Like 
she's frightened.

"Is it too tight?  Pinching you?"

"No...no, it's...."

She's quiet for what seems like a lifetime, holding 
her hand up to her face, examining it.  I come 
dangerously close to blurting out "It's WHAT dammit?"  
but she saves me.

"It's beautiful.  God, Alex, so beautiful.  Where did 
it come from?"

"I made it."

She looks back and forth between my face and the 
ring.

"You did?  You made it?  How?"

She kisses my shoulder, gently reminding me that one-
armed guys aren't known for their welding skills.

"Well, not completely by myself.  I got all the stuff 
together and brought it down to the shop and the guys 
there helped me with it."

"Alex I...I can't..."

Oh God.  Please don't tell me that you can't wear it.  
Please don't say that it's too similar to a dead 
custom you have no interest in perpetuating or that 
you're not ready for such a serious gift or some 
other bullshit.

"I can't believe you did this.  Wow."

She's still staring at it and she's smiling now.  My 
panic attack is slowly abating.

"Does that mean you like it?"

"I love it, Alex.  God, I love it."

Jesus Christ.  She's crying again.  Maybe this is a 
birthday thing or something.  I've spent six 
birthdays with her though, and I've never seen her 
this emotional.

"What's wrong?"  I ask, even though she's smiling 
through her tears.

"I just...love..."

She pauses for another endless minute and I find 
myself idiotically holding my breath.

"...it.  Love it," she finishes and kisses me.

Her eyes are gushing with tears now and maybe it's 
the idiot male in me, but I'm totally confused.  I 
kiss her eyes, wishing whatever has her in such a 
state far far away.

"Shh, don't cry, baby."

"I'm sorry.  I just love it.  I don't even know...I 
don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything.  Just wear it."

Every day.  For the rest of your life.  Maybe we 
should glue it on.

"Mmkay," she sighs, snuggling up to me and tucking 
her head under my chin.  I wrap my arm around her and 
pull her as close as humanly possible.  She sniffles 
and snorts against my chest and continues to hold up 
her hand and stare at the ring.  She really does seem 
to like it.

"It looks good on you."

"I love it.  You're so sweet, Alex.  So good."

Sweet and good.  Two words I never thought I'd hear 
associated with my name.  I guess she really has 
turned me into a sap.  I just wish I could believe it 
as strongly as she seems to.

"You've made me so happy," she says and then laughs.

"What?"

"Nothing I just sound so...silly.  Like a soap opera 
actress or something."

"No, it doesn't sound that way at all.  Not at all.  
I wanna make you happy.  That's all I want."

She nods and snorts some more and starts running her 
hand over my chest.  We both admire the way the 
silvery metal looks, reflecting the moonlight and 
gliding over my skin.  Damn, we are a soap opera.

"I love you...Destiny," I say melodramatically, and 
she laughs.  "Or was it Montana?  Blaze?  What chick 
are you again?"

We chuckle together at our ridiculously sappy moment 
and then go back to looking at the ring and the way 
it glimmers as she touches me.  Everywhere.

xxxxxxx

End of Chapter Ten