Dreaming Omega
Spookey247 (spookey247@msn.com)

6/7

17-B BUXTON COVE DRIVE 10:20 AM

"Fox?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me her name."

Boy, I really don't want to go there. A part of me wants to leave that life behind and only exist in this moment, the one that Joy and I have chosen together. We are a tangle of arms and legs, smelling deliciously of sweat and semen and her sweet, sweet juices.

"What happened to you and me and nothing else but now?"

Her lips are on my forehead. I lift my face to kiss her, but the gravity in her expression stops me short. "Fox, I can't help it. This is going to sound nuts, but I can feel her. It's so strong it's almost like I could see her face. I just...I want to know her name."

There's a tight feeling in my throat. To speak Scully's name is to acknowledge all that brought me here. The pain is fresh and full... I try not to fight it. I try to let my body be calm as I remember Scully's face, beautiful, wise, a fractal echo inside my body, pervading the cells that make me what I am. I may be far from her, but Scully is with me, present in this moment as surely as I am. If Joy wants to know me, then she is justified in wanting to know Scully, too. "Her name's Dana Scully. We've been partners for years."

Joy closes her eyes, quiescent, processing the information without seeming to judge its meaning. Then her lips curl up in a contented smile. "Thanks."

I trace my finger over the smile. Why is it that I go for such complicated women? "Why thanks?"

"Because I know that was hard for you."

"God, Joy..." There is so much I need to say but I am beyond words. When I came here I was like my father: childish and self-absorbed, consumed by a quest that was insubstantial and destructive to my self and those around me. I loved no one and nothing. Now...it's impossible to express what she has awakened in me.

"Fox, what?" She is raking her fingers across my chest. I'm getting hard again - I am so hungry for her. Her slightest motion arouses me.

"I need to be with you."

"Be with me, then."

Both of her hands circle my ass, and she grinds her hips against mine. Her hands travel up my back, exploring, caressing, and come to rest in my hair. "Be with me," she growls, her lips parting, sucking greedily at my tongue as I slowly slip it inside her mouth.

I'm reaching down to find the wet slit that I know is waiting for my fingers. Her sharp gasp lets me know I have found her. Oh god, yes, it's hot, I'm a lucky man, I can't believe I can touch her this way. I run a finger across the stiff point of flesh and she groans as I begin to stroke her there.

"Here, oh baby, don't stop..." she reaches down to guide my fingers to the perfect spot and I go to work, my other hand sliding toward her breast, pinching the nipple hard as I sink my fingers inside her, first one, then two, now three, opening her wide to my caress, pausing now and then to circle my thumb in her juices.

We stare into each other's eyes and I thrill to the flush on her cheeks, the way her eyelids flutter each time my fingers delve more deeply, each time my thumb strokes her just the right way. I can give it back, oh yes, I can give it back to her...her hips lift off the bed as she moves against my hand and her breathing is sharp and rapid. It's beautiful. I love the way it sounds.

I know I need to taste her and I descend quickly, kicking the sheets back, urged on by her hands, which push at my shoulders, urged on by the sob of need in her voice as she cries, "Yes, do it baby..." She is delicious. I explore the contours of her flesh with my tongue, making the exhilarating journey from the slippery depths to the smooth, salty heights time and time again.

Her moans come stifled as she pulls a pillow over her face...I love this, she is screaming, she can't control herself ...suddenly she sits bolt upright and she flings the pillow aside, pulling me to her, licking at my lips, tasting herself, whispering voraciously, "Inside me, oh god. You've got to fuck me now, now, now..."

I don't need to be told again. I feel like I'm going to pop as it is. I throw myself on top of her and before I know it, I am driving inside her, we are bucking against each other, she is holding onto the headboard, her legs wrapped around my back, moving like a wild animal against me.

All at once her legs begin to shake. Her face, oh shit, her face...her mouth drops open as she comes, forming a perfect O. Her eyes roll back and her sighs tear at my heart. Memorize this moment, keep this vision forever...my entire body goes rigid, "Oh Joy, Joy, Joy..." This is paradise. Our paradise, together.

I dream she is cutting my hair. It is morning and I am sitting half-dressed in her kitchen with sunlight streaming through the blinds like melted butter. The scissors are a blur in her hands. Little hairs are flying everywhere like shards of marble from a sculptor's chisel. I am Michelangelo's statue, trapped in stone, and she is setting me free. I float back to consciousness and oh, yes, she is beside me, long arms wrapped tight and warm around my body.

We are snuggled together like puppies at rest. I bask in the intimacy of her bed, burrowing more deeply into worn flannel sheets that smell exotically of jasmine and sex.

"Fox?"

"Uh-huh..." I answer her sleepily. I don't know how long we've been napping, but I am delighted to find myself still inside her. I feel like a little kid who just unwrapped the biggest box under the tree.

"Can I ask something?"

"Anything."

"I want to ask if I can photograph you."

"Really? What, like, Playgirl stuff? Gonna post me on the Web or something?" I run my tongue along the edge of her ear.

"Mmmm, yes. Women all over the world will shower me with gratitude..."

Just the thought of this is giving me an erection. My fingers travel lightly across her breasts. "That part about the shower...think we could give it a try?"

Joy's smile fades. She trails her fingers wistfully through my hair, kisses me softly, and then rolls slowly away. It's all I can do not to whine like a child as she sits up on the edge of the bed, her back to me, her voice low. "I want to do it as soon as possible, on the beach where we met yesterday. And then...god, I can't believe I'm saying this...Fox, I want you to go home."

Do I have to go home? I don't even know where that is anymore.

I'm awake now. "What's the matter, Joy? I don't want to go home."

I pull her back into the bed and she throws her arms around my neck and hides her face against my chest like what she just said to me ten seconds ago was all a bad dream.

"I know...that's not really what I want either and that's the whole problem."

As she speaks, I feel her body tight and restive against my own. She's fighting this, fighting me. Oh god, when they find out how crippled I am, they always turn away.

"I didn't mean for things to go this far...I don't know what it was, something chemical, maybe, or a past life thing, or maybe I just looked at you and saw someone who needed the same things as me. I didn't really think ahead. I just...god, I just wanted you."

I have never felt so exposed. My heart races with raw fear until her next words come, whispered and urgent. "I didn't know it was going to feel like this, you know? It's totally natural, like I've been waiting for you, like this hidden part of me knew you were coming. I want you to stay. Today, and tonight, and tomorrow. But Fox, I've got this gut feeling that it's not our time. I know you're not mine."

I meet Joy's intense gaze, searching her face for signs of betrayal and instead finding nothing there but love, unguarded and without blemish. She's with me. She has seen what I am and she is not afraid.

"Joy, Joy...I want to stay with you."

"I believe that's what you want right now." She lays a hand against my cheek, smiling ruefully. "Check me if I'm wrong, Fox, but you did have a life before you came here. What about that?"

If she only knew how much I want to shed that life. I have fucked it up so miserably. "I don't want it anymore...god, you have no idea."

"All I know is what I see in you. You've been hurt a lot."

"Yes. And so have you. Give me a chance to help you, like you've helped me."

She closes her eyes, pulling the curtain on the conflict inside. I've seen her do this before. God, she's stubborn. She thinks she's invulnerable. She won't admit what's happening here.

"Listen to me, Joy. When I came here I hated myself. I was dead inside. Being with you, god, it's like - suddenly everything is possible. Do you know that? Can you feel it? Even if I go home today, I think we should see each other again. I think this thing between us, whatever it is, deserves a chance."

"I would love that." She kisses me deeply, deliberately, sending shivers through my entire body. Then she sits up with a determined air. "But Fox, we're both completely unstable and that scares the hell out of me. We're on the edge, both of us in situations that are really heavy. We have got so much unresolved shit and who knows what we'll be facing when we come out on the other side. I mean, right now we could just say fuck it and try to be together, but those same problems will still be there. They're only going to get solved with lots of energy and attention... Fox, I've got a kid to raise. I can't afford to make any more mistakes. Do you understand?"

I guess the whole problem with living purely in the moment is the inevitable sucker-punch you get from reality. While you lie dreaming it marches in and kicks you in the ass, unforgiving and dispassionate as a cop moving a vagrant off a park bench. It is amazing, given the circumstances, but I do understand.

My life is not going to disappear just because I turn my back on it. I already know how badly things could end if I choose to do that. Scully's not going to disappear, either. I don't want to turn my back on her. I've got to make things right between us. I've got to go home.

But good god, Joy, how can we end this?

I roll over and put my head in Joy's lap. It's a sacred act, gazing up at her face. Right now this is my entire universe, the only place I want to be.

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"For saving me."

"I can't save you, Fox."

I reach up to stroke her hair.

She takes my hand and kisses each finger in turn. Then she closes her eyes. "You know what?" she whispers.

"What?"

"We've got to get out of this bed right now."

She's right, as usual.

"So that's it, then. I haven't got a leg to stand on."

She nods tenderly.

"But you want to immortalize me before I go home."

"Yes, I really do. You'll make an amazing picture. Let me, okay?"

"I will never say no to you, Joy."

I am rolling her under me. I can't make them real yet, the words we've just spoken. All I want now is her body against mine, radiant and divine. I want to give back all that she's given me. I could spend my life doing that, giving myself to her, both of us filling each other.

SURF MOTEL, ROOM 109 11:53 AM

I am tiny, the size of a grasshopper, and something I can't see is holding me aloft by the back of the neck. It pinches hard, paralyzing my shoulders and back. My feet are dangling and kicking frantically, faster and faster, as I struggle to get free of the pain. I am moving impossibly fast now, turning into a blur, writhing and screaming for the unseen force to let me go. All of the sudden I am falling fast, as if sucked into a void, shrieking with every fiber of my being.

I jerk awake. There is a thudding sound. What is that?

"Agent Scully. Agent Scully."

Someone is knocking on the door.

In the same instant my cell phone rings. I hit the send button before I have any clue what I'm doing.

"Uh, yes?"

"Agent Scully?"

"Yes."

"Deputy Capp here, Dare County Sheriff's Department."

Oh god.

"May I help you?"

"I just came into work down here in the Buxton office and saw the missing persons report you filed with Deputy Fowler last night... I would have contacted you sooner but I had to take some evidence up to Manteo last night and then I went on home from there. I wanted to tell you that I spoke with your Agent Mulder extensively about three o'clock this morning."

"Deputy, could you hold on a minute?"

I open the door to find the motel manager standing in the hallway holding the hand of a little girl.

"Hi."

"Good morning, Agent Scully, I think I've found your friend."

"Come in."

I raise the cell phone to my ear again. "Deputy, sorry. Someone was talking to me. Where did you speak with Agent Mulder?"

"Ma'am, he was present at the scene of a domestic call in Buxton last night. Apparently a young man came to the residence intoxicated with an unregistered weapon. Agent Mulder had already handled the dispute when we arrived, said he was a friend of the family. When I saw him last he was still at that residence. I didn't know he'd been reported missing or I would have called in."

"Thanks for calling me, can you hold on again?"

I turn to the manager. "I'm sorry. The deputy is telling me he's seen my partner at a residence here in town."

"Yes, he's at my daughter's apartment on Buxton Cove Drive. My granddaughter's told me all about him...there could only be one Fox, don't you think? She keeps talking about her new friend Fox. She says he's there now. Lord, what were the police doing at my daughter's home?"

I return to the phone. "Deputy, the motel manager here is telling me that Agent Mulder is at her daughter's residence. What's the address where you spoke with him?"

The two addresses match. I thank the deputy, end the call, and turn to the manager.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember your name."

"I'm Nell Allen. Do you want me to phone my daughter and see if your friend is still there?"

"No, thanks, I'll go myself. Can you give me directions?"

It's almost impossible to believe, but all last night, Mulder was only two blocks away.

17 Buxton Cove Drive sits on the edge of a marsh looking three times older than Hatteras Island itself. My guts feel like they've been wrapped in duct tape. I climb a rotting stairway to the second floor apartment and knock. A brawny guy in his late twenties comes to the door looking dazed and confused. Clearly, I have awakened him out of a sound sleep.

"Yeah, can I help you?"

I flash my badge. "I'm Agent Scully of the FBI. I'm looking for Fox Mulder."

He blinks sleepily. "Shit. Okay, come on in. Dude, someone's here to...hey, Mulder..."

The living room is drab but comfortable, filled with odd bits of furniture and smelling faintly of beer. "Ma'am, he was here...he was sleeping on the couch right there."

He disappears into what I assume to be the kitchen and I hear him talking with someone, a woman, or maybe two women, from the sound of things. He comes back into the living room and knocks lightly on a closed door to the left of the kitchen. "Joy? Hey, you in there?"

He pushes the door open to reveal an empty room and an unmade bed. "Damn," he mutters, "Sorry, ma'am. I don't know what to tell you."

He looks out into the driveway. "He might be with my sister. They were hanging out last night. Her car's not here, so maybe they went to get breakfast or something. I don't know. I just got up."

The idea that Mulder may have spent last night making time with some young lady while I spent last night searching for him and fearing for his life is enough to send me screaming off the end of the local fishing pier. I cannot help but cast a glance into the woman's bedroom. I can see that the bedclothes have been kicked completely off the bed, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. Pillows are lying askew, deliberately thrown aside.

With a sick, sinking feeling I notice something lying near the foot of the bed, something I cannot possibly ignore: a man's t-shirt, sweat-soaked and heather gray. I know whose shirt that is. I know why it is here.