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PERSEPHONE Rating: NC17 Summary: DreamFic ********************************** I had a dream my last night in the hospital. I say dream because it lacked the traditional earmarks of a nightmare. There were no burnt or bleeding bodies. No eviscerations. No children flying through livingroom windows or staring off into nowhere, their heads at funny angles. No tears. No powder burns. I dreamed everything was different. I dreamed that instead of me pulling Scully down into my dark world, I entered hers. The world of Scully, free from the XFiles, free from her abduction, a world where she had never been tarred with the Mrs. Spooky brush. I found her squeezing avocados in the grocery store, and, after a couple of dates, I somehow lived with her, in her nest, like the ones mice make while waiting to be killed by grad students. True to form, she defended it against everything, against dirt and against disorder, against me, even. She planted flowers in the back yard and one of those 'Protected by XYZ Security System' signs in the front. She straightened her hair every morning. In the dream, I simply looked at her hips, designed for giving easy and painless birth, and she did it. Like that. Like nothing. Like little gods, they stood immediately, walked and talked in minutes. Their eyes were flat and screaming blue. She lined my children up like clean little red-haired soldiers, but her hair was brown. Her hair was brown. The meals were nutritious and edible, scrupulously balanced. I don't know what I did, but I went to work every morning in sparkling white shirts, with creases in my pants that cut my thumbs, and came home every day at five to find her mopping the floor with water that smelled like violets. In bed she wore a night gown, like she never does in real life, and I had to lift the hem quietly, Surreptitiously, and enter her taking all my own weight on my elbows to keep from touching her too much, afraid to impose. Afraid of what would happen if I tried to make her feel me. I moved so carefully, trying my best to make myself come without irritating her. And her expression never changed. Then suddenly, we were in the basement, arguing about cattle mutilations, and she said, "You'll have to give me something if you want to keep me. I've been doing this too long with nothing to show for it." Maggie stood in the doorway waiting to take her, and I was overwhelmed by the feeling that my time was almost up. There was a pomegranate on my desk and I crammed it into her mouth as hard as I could, then another and another, until her belly stood out, hard and round. She looked at me and laughed, her mouth red around the edges. And somehow, the way it always happens in dreams, I began to fuck her, right there on my desk, my hands on her big belly, sucking her red juice-stained tongue. This time, she screwed me back, fierce as a little animal, all teeth and claws and wiry adrenalin, her broad little ass meeting my thrusts, over and over. More than that, it felt like her muscular little cunt was milking me. Maggie stood there, watching it all without expression, dried grass and mud clinging to the legs of her pantsuit. By the time I was fully awake, Scully had brought me back to my apartment to discover a molly missing. *********************
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