Subject: NEW: "Addicted to Love Part 1" by Rebecca Perlow
Date: 05 Aug 1999 01:54:15 GMT
From: jingerluvv@aol.com (JingerLuvv)
Organization: AOL http://www.aol.com
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Title: "Addicted to Love" (1/2)Author: Rebecca Perlow
Rating: R for some language and sexy stuff:):):)Spoilers: "Fire"
Summary: 1984-- Mulder takes Phoebe with him on a trip
to the States for the summer. When Phoebe's wandering
eyes go into overtime. Mulder gets mad, gets a clue,
and takes off on a late night drive with the latest
guy's girlfriend. Three guesses who it is!:)
Disclaimer: Mulder does not belong to me. Nor does
Scully. And you'll never catch me calling
Phoebe Green my own!!!! Uh-uh!!! They all
belong to Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Prod.
and the Fox Network, all of whom I'm going
to leave alone in this disclaimer because
I'm too tired to do anything else. Relax
Chris, I'm not going to comment on your
haircut, or tell you how your credibility
would be shot to pieces if you sue a 15,
innocent or not, for having a little fun,
or how the 50 Victoria's Secret bras and
half dozen pair of thigh-high boots with
four inch heels you'd collect, should you
decide to sue me anyway, would *not* aid
you in paying off you legal fees. Nope.I'm
going to play nice this time:) Yessiree:)
I'm going to be polite:):):);)
Many thanks and tears and hugs and kisses
go out to my friend Jolene--who encouraged
me to write this piece, and to all theKids
at the Church of X who helped me have the
balls to rewrite this story after someone
accidentally deleted it the first time.
Thanks you guys--you guys *ROCK*!!!:):):)
*******************************************************
May 28, 1984
11:35 P.M.
The China Girl
How could he have been so *stupid*?!
'It's official now, Fox Mulder, you are the stupidest son of a
bitch on the face of this planet.'
How could he have been so dense?
Did he honestly believe Phoebe Green could be faithful? That she
could ever devote a single second of her time just to him? That she
could control her roving eyes and overactive pack of estrogen for just
one minute and look at whatshe could've had with him?
She'd screwed all those guys at Oxford.
Had he honestly thought she'd be any different here?
That was the kicker, he'd thought she would be different here. That's
why he'd invited her to celebrate the beginning of the Summer with him
in the States. He thought that without all the "distractions" back in
England,
maybe they could finally have some time alone together to be alone and to
concentrate on salvaging what precious little may have been left of their
relationship.
Well, any thoughts of that and what little bit of his so called relationship
with Phoebe flew out the closed window when he came back from getting her a
drink and saw her grinding her pelvis against some Don Johnson wannabe who
was
all too eager to be her ownpersonal scratching post.
He should've known.
Why should he have known? Maybe because this was the third guy he'd
caught Phoebe with.
Not the first.
Not the second.
The *THIRD*.
And the fact that she didn't even *know* this guy made him even more mad and
hurt. He was just a guy she'd seen at the stupid club she'd dragged him to.
The China Girl, it was called.
Well, that settled it. He could never listen to David Bowie again.
Or the GoGo's song they'd been "getting acquainted" to.
Pity, Belinda Carlisle was hot.
He was more angry now than he'd ever been with her, and he'd caught her in
far
more embarrasing situations with far more embarrasing people the first two
times.
The fact that this one was the *third* made him feel like he could rip a
phone
book in half.
Maybe it had to do with the fact that the anger boiling over in his veins
was
not soley Phoebe's, a little bit of it was reserved for himself, too.For
letting it go this far.
He was so blind and so stupid for taking her back all those times. And he
was
even more stupid for not confronting her now. Rather than cause a big scene
he'd run out into an alley next to the club reeking of old pizza and
garbage
to clear his head.
Fat lot of good that did.He felt his blood burning in his face and he felt
all
the strong emotions racing through him right now threatening to rise up
with a
wrath unforseen.
He quickly looked for something he could take it out on
that didn't have Phoebe's face.
Finally setting sights on a nearby dumpster, he went at it with all the wear
his white-gray Reeboks were worth.
Should've known. *KICK*
Should've *KICK* fucking *KICK* known. *KICK*
"Hey, cut it out! What'd that dumpster ever do to you?" a feminine voice cut
through his frustrated musings.
He looked up from his anger displacement to place thevoice with the face.
The face he would've found *very* enchanting if he wasn't entirely pissed
off
at the moment
The young woman standing five feet away from him may have been small in
stature
but she stood tall and strong, ensconsed in the clothes that were typical of
the kids he'd seen shaking their ass inside the club: stonewashed denim
jacket
that looked like it had been thrown in the washing machine twelve times in
one
day, a black T-shirt under that, Levis 501 jeans with great gaping rips in
the
knees that went up to the middle of her thighs, and a pair of black
canvashigh-tops.
But he could tell this girl was no clubgoer. There was something in her
stance
that reeked of an education. And there was a youth and an intelligence her
face that
he couldn't place. Most of the people he knew wouldn't have had guessed her
to
be a day over twenty, and he didn't figure she was either.
But there was something about her..., maybe it was the way her long auburn
hair
framed her face and the way the flickering street light nearby seemed to
halo
her figure with an almost angelic glow.
If he wasn't about ready to spit steel he might've seen that.
But the river of hostility was still bullet-training through his body at an
alarming rate and he couldn't see much of anything right now.
"Can I help you?" he threw out with a faint trace of contempt in his voice,
before turning back to the dumpster.
"Yeah, actually you can," she advanced on him unabashedly with an
antagonistic
voice of her own, "you can go in there and remove your girlfriend's bony
ass
from my boyfriend's lap."
Words to make him look up from what he was doing. So, that cover from a
"Miami
Vice" fan magazine had a girlfriend. Made sense. He imagined girls were
falling
all over themselves and would crawl stark naked over broken glass for a
chance
to get into the backseat of acar with him
Like Phoebe was...with everybody.
"It's not up to me." he informed her, a faint hint ofsadness in his voice.
The look this girl gave him was filled with astonishment at his thudding
lack
of interest and could've frozen beer.
"Oh, I see," she replied, almost with disdain, "well I sure hope it's up to
*somebody* because *somebody has to go in there and break up that horomone
fest
before the two of them start stripping onthe dance floor."
"Well it's not going to be me," he studied her for a moment,"you look like
someone who could handle herself pretty well. Why don't *you* do it?"
"Because I need a cigarette."
With that she slid a pack of Marlboro Reds out of the inside pocket of her
jacket that was most of the way full and looked like it was about six
months
old.
She put one of the tobacco menthol cylinders to her lips and lit it with a
silver blue lighter, taking a long healthy drag. Failry soon an aura of
blue
came to circle her auburn head.
He felt a little sick to his stomach."That's a filthy habit you know."
"So's your girlfriend," she made an extra effort to blow a puff of smoke in
his
direction.
A lenghty silence formed between them that lasted long enough the girl had
finished half her cigarette by the time she became the first to speak.
"Why are you out here anyway?"
It had been so damn quiet for so long, it took him a second for his ears to
adjust to sound.
"Huh?"
"Why are you out here kicking the hell out of a dumpster when you should be
in
there doing something similar to my boyfriend's ass?"
"Why aren't you?"
"Because I could freeze *ice* on your *girlfriend's* ass," without really
knowing why, that provoked a smile from him, "besides, I don't really feel
like
it tonight."
Something fell in her expression that intrigued him. In the five minutes
he'd
known this young woman, she had not ceased her snide remarks or her
contemptuous demeanor.
Now, something in her features began to take on an entirely different
shape.
Her face seemed to melt from anger to sadness in what had to have been just
seconds.
Something he didn't think he'd ever seen in someone before, other than
himself.
"You know what's the worst part?" she flicked the remains of her cigarette
into
a puddle of rainwater and anitfreeze, "he's so busy in there with getting
his
ass
stroked, he probably wouldn't even notice if I left. If I just up and left
right now, he probably wouldn't even bat an eyelid."
He examined her for a moment. From what he could see of her in the dimness
of
the flickering street light, she was a *very* pretty woman, and she had a
strong
character from what he knew just by talking to her. And with that strong
character, came a lot of pride.
Pride in herself, and that character.
And he could tell her from the way she talked about her boyfriend, she
wasn't
just angry, but she'd been severely hurt by his lascivious actions around an
open zipper like Phoebe Green.
"Want to find out?"
She pointed him with a curious stare for a solid minute before breaking out
into a small smile and following him out to the parking lot.
"Think *she'll* notice you're gone?" she climbed into the passenger side to
his
black Ford P.O.S. and buckled herself into the seat.
"Oh, most definetly." he answered, shutting the door on the driver side and
putting the car into ignition.
"What makes you think so?" she asked as he shifted the car into drive and
pulled out of the parking space.
"I'm her ride home."
*******************************************************
For the first five minutes in the car, niether of them said anything.
They were both too high on the adrenalin rush that came with this type of a
situation.
Ditching your significant others--the cement of all good relationships.
"Soooooo," he drawled out, trying to think of something to say, "what's your
name?"
"Oh Jesus...you don't *have* to know my name do you?" she asked looking away
from her window and over at his muddled expression.
"Well, it's not a *prerequisite*, but it'd be nice."
"It's just that learning someone's name always leads to more complicated
things
like...relationships."
He nodded thoughtfully.
"Or sex," she added quickly, "have you and that British bitch had sex yet?"
The tires screeched to a halt at the red light upahead.
"What?! What kind of a question is that?!"
"A practical and reasonable one," she replied without too much emotion,
"since
that's what's most likely next on the itinerary for our respective others
tonight."
Before he could even search half of his brain for an appropriate comeback,
she
broke in again.
"You know, I'm not from here but I think *green* means *go*." she pointed to
the traffic light ahead.
He scrambled in his seat and eased onto the accelerator.
"You're changing the subject," he persisted, regaining his equilibrium,
"come
on, what's your name?"
Another lengthy pause erupted before she finally sighed heavily.
"...Melissa."
"Okay, Melissa...what's your *real* name?"
She glanced over at him, an astonished look painted across her face.
She returned her eyes to the fascinating view out the windshield before she
answered in a small voice.
"...Dana."
"Dana," he repeated almost to himself, "pretty name."
"Yeah, and I seem to have dropped it. Can I borrow yours?"
He threw her a wry smile.
"Clever."
"I get that a lot," she pressed on, "so what's your name?"
Hmmmmm. His *name*. He thought about that for a moment.
"Marty," he replied.
"Okay, Marty, what's *your* real name?"
"Do you *have* to know my real name?"
"Well, I told you mine, I think it's only fair."
"It's just that someone learning my name is how I got into all that trouble
back there at the club. At least that's how it started anyway.."
"Come on..." she insisted.
"It's not the greatest name in the world.""Like mine is. Come on, give it
up."
"...Fox."
"Fox?" she asked, as if she wasn't sure he was serious, not that he wasn't
used
to that kind of a reaction, "...well, that's kind of--"
"Spooky?" he asked, expecting to hear something similar to it. He always did
after all.
"No," she paused---"it's...kind of *fitting* actually."
He glanced over at her as she smiled sincerely at him, then grimaced at the
new
song on the radio.
Jitterbug Jitterbug
"Oh God! I can't stand Wham!. George Michael is so gross! Do you mind if I
change the station?"
"Go ahead," Fox didn't really care what song was on the radio, just as long
as
it wasn't "China Girl" or--
Vacation
All I ever wanted--
*CLICK*
He reached over and spun the dial to a newstation.
"What are you doing?" Dana asked, flipping the dialback, "the GoGos are
cool."
Vacation
Had to get away
"No," he switched the station back.*CLICK*
Taaaaaake oooooon meeeeeeee
"Why not?"
*CLICK*
A week without you
Thought I'd forget
"It's my car."
*CLICK*
Neunundneunzig luftballoons
"Don't be such a baby."
*CLICK*
Two weeks without you
*CLICK*
Come on Eileen...
*CLICK*
Still haven't gotten over you yeeeeett
*CLICK*
I'll stop the world and melt with you
*CLICK*
I wake up every morning, I stumble out of bed...
"Eww! Not Sheena Easton!" Dana cried out.
*CLICK*
Karma karma karma karma karma chamemeleon
You come and go, you come and go--oh-oh-oh
"There you go," Fox gestured toward the radio, "BoyGeorge."
Dana shrugged a little.
"It's cool," she leaned back against the seat a little bit, "I like Boy
George,
she's pretty."
"She's a *he*!" he laughed.
"He's prettier than your girlfriend." she threw back at him, a slight smile
on
her face.
"Your point?" he asked, feeling great that he could joke about Phoebe
without
feeling like he'd just committed hari-kari.
"No point, just an observation."
"Your sense of observation is impeccable. Congratulations." he smiled a
half-smile, not really sure why.
"Thank you."
Just then, a sudden burst of an upbeat tempo on the radio broke their
extraneous conversation.
"What happened?" she asked over the music.
"Ahhh, it's the damn radio," he grumbled, reaching over to fiddle with the
dial, " the damn radio--it's all screwed up.Sometimes it flips on or
switches
stations on it's own."
Finally he settled on a station he liked. Dana felt like she had been thrown
back against the seat as an even more fierce tempo filled the car.
The lights are on-but you're not home
Your mind is not your own
Your heart sweats, your body shakes
Another kiss is what it takes.
"Oh, yes! Robert Palmer is the man!" he reached out to turn up the volume so
that you could almost see the music vibrating against the windows.
You can't sleep, you can't eat
There's no doubt-you're in deep
Your throat is tight you can't breathe
Another kiss is all you need
Dana felt a giggle ripple throughout her body as he began to sing along with
Robert Palmer.
And she definetly felt a chuckle rise in her throat a moment later when he
began to move his body to the beat of the song, while still driving.
'Is that really safe in the car?'
'Is that really safe *anywhere*?'
Whoa You like to think that you're immune to the stuff
Oh yeah
"Hey Dana, sing with me," Fox yelled to her over thevolume of the song.
"Sing!? I can't sing!" she yelled back.
"Niether can I, but I'm doing it! Come on, it's fun!"he smiled, encouraging
her.
Dana laughed it off, then was surprised a minute later
when she began to sing along with him.
You're gonna have to face it
You're addicted to love
You see the signs-but you can't read
You're running at a different speed
Your heart beats in double time
Another kiss and you'll be mine
Her hair flew in her face as she began to dance in her seat to the beat of
the
song as well.
A one-track mind, you can't be saved
Oblivion is all you crave
If there's some left for you
You don't mind if you do
Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to thestuf
fOh yeah
It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough
You know you're gonna have to face it
You're addicted to love
Might as well face it, you're addicted to love
Might as well face it, you're addicted to love
Might as well face it, you're addicted to love
Might as well face it, you're addicted to love
Might as well face it, you're addicted to love
Without explanation, as the song trailed off, they both began to laugh
hysterically.They didn't really know why. But they were both grateful to be
given the chance to laugh and have fun, especially the way the evening had
startedout.
But they weren't thinking about that right now.
They weren't thinking about much of anything.
Both of them were out of breath from laughing so hard.
Still trying to catch some of her breath, Dana glanced over at Fox, almost
surprised to see his own rapid breathing matched her own.
They stared at each other for a long time as each one fought to catch their
breath.
Finally, he was the one to get enough of his voice backto speak.
"You hungry?" he asked between ragged breaths.
It took her a moment or two before she recovered enough breath to manage a
response.
"Yeah, kinda." she tried to control her breathing.
"'Kay, let's get something to eat."
"Cool."
*******************************************************
End of Part 1.
WOW!!!:) I think stuff is better the second timearound!!:):):)YAY!!!!!!!!!!!
IT's ALIVE!!!:):):)Like it so far? Hate it so far? Utterly despise the 80s
***AND*** this fanfic??!!!:)Whatever the reaction Kids:)--LET ME KNOW!!!!!:)
Rebecca's "Addicted to Love" Soundtrack Album SideOne--because vinyl *is*
the
best:))
Track 1: "China Girl"
Track 2: "Vacation"
Track 3: "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go"
Track 4: "Take On Me"
Track 5: "99 Luftballoons"
Track 6: "Come On, Eileen"
Track 7: "I'll Melt With You"
Track 8: "Morning Train"
Track 9: "Addicted to Love"
Title: "Addicted to Love" 2/2
Author: Rebecca Perlow
Rating: R for some language and some sexy stuff:):):)
Spoiler: "Fire"
Summary: See Part One:)
Disclaimer: Are you kidding me?:) Do you think I'm
going to write all ***that*** again?!!!:)
UH-UH!!!!:) You want a good disclaimer and
some healthy CC-bashing, check out part 1:)
Okay, okay, "Christine" the 1983 movie
belongs to Stephen King--the master of
horror and the writer of "Chinga."
Once again, mucho mucho mucho thanks go
out to Jolene--my biggest supporter--and
all my friends at the Church of X:):):) You
guys really showed me stuff and people can
come back from the dead!!:):):) I LUVV YOU
GUYS!!!!!:):):)
*******************************************************
May 29, 1984
1:38 A.M.
"Where do you go to school?" Dana rooted through the McDoanald's bag as
they
pulled away from the drive-thru window and into the less than crowded
street.
"Oxford," he answered her, scanning the surrounding area for a place to
park,
finally spying an empty parking lot nearby, "do you mind if we park
there?"
"Sure," she rummaged around in the bag, "Oxford huh?"
"Yep," he slowly pulled into a space and shifted the car into park.
"Wow. What's your major?" she pulled out her Quarter Pounder and set it
on
her lap.
"Psychology," he accepted the hamburger she handed to him.
"Mmmm, you like the idea of crawling up inside people's heads, huh?" she
paused from what she'd been doing to talk to him, "yeah, me too, only
*literally*, not figuratively."
"Pre-med?"
"Second year, Berkeley," she pulled out a red and gold container of
french
fries, "well how do you like that? They only gave us one of our fries
orders.
Gotta love the Golden Arches."
"Here," he set them on the seat between them, "we'll split them."
She looked up at him for a second.
"Thanks," she told him sincerely.
"Welcome," he unwrapped his own Quarter Pounder and took a bite, "so,
Berkeley, what are you doing on this side of the country?"
"Well, what are you doing on this side of the *Atlantic*?" she
countered,
making a face in mid-sentence as the radio clicked on, playing the
familiar
Wham! song, with an outstretch of her hand, she silenced it, "do you
have any
tapes we could play? The radio's kinda.."
"Yeah, I think I have a tape case back there," he gestured towards th
back
seat.
He looked down for a second to take a long sip of his soft drink before
he
looked up again and...WHOA.
Dana had kneeled up on the seat and over into the backseat in search of
the
tape case he'd brought, leaving him a generous view of her pert derriere
and
the slim legs attached to it.
Not that the view wasn't *nice*...
"Are you sure you brought it?" she suddenly reappeared and flopped down
in
her seat, "I didn't see anything back there."
"I--uh--I guess I left it at the hotel," he stammered a little,
embarrased to
realise he had been staring.
"Oh..., which brings me back to my original question," she took a long
sip of
her diet cola, "what are you doing all the way over here if you go to
school
in England?"
"Hey, I'm *from* here," he told her, "I'm not wasn't made in England,
you
know."
"You're from Massachusets?" she returned her attentions to her sft drink
as
she waited fo an answer.
He nodded.
"Chilmark, if you want to get into specific locations. Born and raised
there.
Quiet little town by the beach. A population of about 639. It was a nice
place to grow up."
"It sounds like it," she agreed, "I'm a Navy Brat, I pretty much think
everywhere is home--you come to accept that frame of mind after a while.
You
have to."
"I can imagine," he ganked a french fry from the carton, "we also had
this
little Summer home in Rhode Island. That was nice too. We used to play
ball
by the beach, or go swimming or water skiing. Sometimes my parents would
build bonfires along the shore. I remember running home screaming
whenever
Dad got out the firewood."
"Why?" she giggled around the straw.
"I hate fire. No, *terrified* of it it's more like it." he told her with
some
trace of shame in his voice.
"Well that's okay," she slurped the last few drops of her cola before
she
popped the top off the paper cup and plucked a couple of pieces of ice,
"anyway, you know what they say about people who are afraid of fire
don't
you?"
"What do they say?" he took another bite of his hamburger as he shook
his
head.
"They tend to be extremely passionate people," she stuffed the ice chips
into
her mouth one at a time, "something about over-compensation."
He looked up at her, watching her as she savored the ice.
'Ohhhh, I can't pass this one up.'
"Yeah, well you know what they say about people who like to eat ice,
don't
you?" he countered.
"What's that?" she asked around an ice chip.
"Sexually deprived."
She pointed him with a fixed stare of surprise.
He smiled, popping the top off his own soda and reaching in to snatch an
ice
chip. He slid it between his lips as he returned her stare.
"They say that huh?" she asked with amusement.
"Uh-huh," he formed his words around the piece of ice.
"Well," she paused for a second, "they sure hit that nail on the head
now
didn't they?"
He almost choked on the ice cube as he chuckled. Finally he regained his
composure.
"Well, while you're here, how do you like Massachusets?" he asked.
"Well from back there," she gestured back towards the club, "it was
looking
pretty crappy."
He nodded in a silent agreement to that.
"But...from where I'm sitting right now...it's not so bad."
He smiled over at her as she answered it with a small smile of her own.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure," she finished off the last of the french fries and tossed the
carton
into the back seat.
"What was someone like you doing at that club?"
Her face fell for a second before she finally answered.
"My boyfriend persuaded me to go. Him and his friends wanted to see what
it
was like." she stared out the windshield, refusing to look at him or
anything
else as she continued.
He listened.
"He asked me to go on this trip with him and his friends. He said he
wanted
to spend some time with me alone," she went on, "of course, that was a
lie."
He abandoned his food and what was left of his diet soda as she took a
breath
and began from the beginning.
"I met him at a party of my sister's. He was handsome, intelligent, and
seemed really nice. He made me feel beautiful, which is something I've
never
thought of myself as before. At first, I didn't understand why he liked
me. I
mean, it's no secret guys don't really like smart girls. Even my sister
told
me that."
Fox turned to face her in his seat.
'I like smart girls.'
"He..told me he loved me..And--um--nobody had ever told me that before.
*Nobody*. And, of course, I believed him."
'Why wouldn't you?'
"It just...,I can't believe how stupid I was--" she reached for the
inside
pocket of her jacket, before Fox reached out and grabbed it.
For the first time, Dana turned her gaze away from the windshield and
stared
at him, studying the intense activity in his hazel eyes, almost as
intensely
as he studied hers.
She was such a pretty girl, with that auburn hair, and that skin, and
those
eyes...she was indescribable even to his sharp mind. He couldn't
understand
why any guy with testosterone under his belt and half a brain in his
head
would trade a girl like this for a vampire like Phoebe Green.
For a moment, niether one of them moved.
'She's upset Fox. Say something nice. Something eloquent. Something
that'll
make her feel better.'
"Please don't smoke in my car."
'Oh lovely.'
She blinked for a second, as if she had to process what he'd said before
he
pulled back and released her hand.
"Okay."
Another lapse of silence seeped into the room. An inexplicable tension
flared
from nowhere. Once again, it was Dana who decided to sweep it away.
"I probably should've realised he was lying when he told me he loved me.
I
mean, does anybody our age really *mean* it when they say it?"
Fox adjusted himself in his seat, sitting a little further back against
the
seat, looking down at his hands.
"I did."
Dana's gaze drifted back to his face, and for the first time, she
noticed a
drastic change in his features, fallen with dejection.
"What happened?" she asked, concerned.
He looked at her and half-chuckled.
"I should have known she didn't love me...I mean, I can't even recall
her
saying it. I did but I don't think she ever did..But there was a part of
me
that wanted to believe she did."
She adjusted her jacket around herself as she rested her face against
the
seat, listening intently to him as he told the story.
"Years ago...when I was just a kid..something happened..to my family.
I'm not
going to get into what happened, because it won't change
it...but..needless
to say, my family wasn't much of a family afterwards. My parents
divorced..and to be honest...I think they agreed to send to me to Oxford
once
I got accepted just so they wouldn't have to look at me for a while. To
be
honest, sometimes I question whether they really care."
Another momentary silence overtook them before he started again, with a
bit
more sadness evident in his voice.
"I met her at a party at my roommate's friend's house. She was really
smart
and attractive, and she seemed to like me. Anyway, I guess..I just got
in
over my head because...because I wanted to believe it."
Solicitous to his words, she felt herself falling into them. The
sympathy and
affiliation she could feel with him was thick and submerging. The
betrayal he
obviously felt, so evident in his voice, was so similar to hers, it was
both
frightening and heartbreaking.
"I haven't felt love..in a real, *long* time...And--I don't know even
*why*
I'm telling you this, maybe it's so you won't make the same mistake--I
guess
I forgot what it felt like. And that's not something you want to forget
so
easily."
Her heart cracked and broke into two large pieces that crumbled on
impact as
they fell into the empty well where it used to be, even as Fox tried to
feign
disinterest in the subject.
"I mean--hey--I should've known, right?," he attempted to sluff it off,
"I
mean, what else could've I asked for?"
Dana studied him for a moment. From what she'd seen and talked with this
boy,
whom she'd only known for a few hours, he was incredibly sweet and kind.
There was an aura about him that was very trustworthy--she wouldn't have
jumped in his car if she hadn't sensed it.
And he was quite handsome, too. With his thick dark hair, and his olive
complexion, and those dark, fathomless eyes, she couldn't imagine anyone
purposely hurting someone like him. She couldn't even imagine someone
superficial like his bitchy excuse for a girlfriend wanting to screw
around
on him.
He'd obviously been hurt by her, and piled on top of the pain of
something
that had happened in his family (she refused to press that issue) he'd
tried
to shrug it off, almost as if not being bothered with it would make the
hurt
go away, even choosing not to use her name when he talked about her.
Almost
as if it would make the entire relationship insignificant.
As insignificant as they both felt right now.
'Your heart is *always* significant.' she thought to herself.
She scooted close to him on the seat, brushing the empty french fry
carton
out of the way to sit in the middle of the seat. They sat in silence for
a
moment, close enough that the outside of their thighs were brushing.
'What else could I've asked for?' his words rang in her ears, and she
looked
up at his face, averted from her gaze in the shadow of the nearby
streetlight
as it found other things to concentrate on.
"More," she whispered almost to herself as she tentatively reached up to
touch the back of his neck.
Almost as if he hadn't heard her word or felt her touch, he turned to
face
her, moving his face into the palm of her hand. He closed his eyes for a
moment, indulging in the gesture.
"What?" he asked in a voice a touch softer and deeper than he had spoken
with
before.
"It's just that....," her thumb ran across his high cheek bone, "you
could
have more."
He stared into her compassionate gaze, bathing in its soothing warmth,
closing his eyes as the combined sensation of her look and her touch
made him
lightheaded.
He breathed deeply as he felt her cool breath whisper against his face.
His
lips parted as he felt that same whisper close a mere hair's breadth
away.
He leaned in closer, curiously. Wondering what those lips would feel--
Move yourself
You always live you're life
Never thinking of the future
Prove yourself
You are the move you make
Take your chances win or loser
His eyes snapped open and Dana pulled back a little as the radio kicked
on
and interrupted their musings.
As the frustration of the scene drifted away the humor began to enter it
with
charm.
"Excellent timing." he smiled, dryly chuckling.
"Yeah," she answered, a trace of a giggle in her voice that soon floated
away
as she concentrated on his face. Her expression sombered.
Fox closed his eyes as she came forward again. This time he felt her
brush
her lips against his. A light chaste. An exploratory touch asking how
far he
wanted to go.
He surprised both her and himself by bringing his mouth to hers slightly
more
firmly then she had a second ago. Even in the sudden clamorous force
behind
it, the kiss remained somewhat innocent, their lips the only parts of
their
bodies touching. He hesitantly brought the back of his hand up to gently
caress her face, marvelling at the smooth texture of her skin.
Much better than - a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Their breath continued to mingle, softly encouraging them. A moment
later,
Dana licked her tongue along the length of his lower lip, as if asking
permission for entry.
Say you don't want to chance it
You've been hurt so before
'He made me feel beautiful..which is something I've never thought of
myself
as before.'
But she was beautiful.
*Very* beautiful.
He granted it, parting his lips slightly to admit her tongue. He groaned
softly as she ran along his top row of teeth, her fingers slowly weaving
into
his thick rich hair.
A second later, she was in his lap, one leg on either side of him,
straddling
his thighs, without either one of them remembering how it had happened.
Fox's tapered fingers traced the gentle curl of her hair, amazed by the
texture and scent making him feel more than slightly intoxicated as she
deepened the kiss.
Owner of a lonely heart
Owner of a lonely heart
Much better than - a
Owner of a broken heart
Owner of a lonely heart
The rest of the song blurred into the into the edges of their their
interaction.
Fox's hands moved beneath her denim jacket, sliding it from her
shoulders and
onto the floor of the car. His hands surveyed the warmth of her skin
radiating through her shirt, finally slipping beneath the hem.
She made a sound that she didn't recognise as having come from her as
his
mouth left hers and found comfort in her neck. When his hands traced a
path
up and down her spine, she slipped her own beneath his collar,
reverently
stroking his neck.
He felt her shiver as his hands ran up the soft skin at the front
underneath
of her t-shirt, rising goose flesh along his path. His fingertips
retreating
a step when they encountered the underwires of her bra.
'Oh, Jeeesssusss.'
She shifted across his lap, leaning forward slightly to return her lips
to
his, accidentally sliding his hands inside the satin cups of her bra.
He felt her gasp inside his mouth, followed by a heavy, pleasant sigh,
almost
rendering him unconscious.
His tongue stroked the roof of her mouth mimicking the actions of hands
as
his palms making light contact with her hardened nipples.
She whimpered against his mouth, as her hands and fingers journeyed up
and
down his spine, teasing him.
He moaned and pulled her closer against him, sliding his hands around
her
tiny waist to the back to unclasp her bra.
You love her
But she loves him
And he loves somebody else
You just can't win
Their bodies stilled as they became aware that the radio had moved on to
the
next song: "Love Stinks" by the J. Geils Band------oh dear.
Dana slid one hand out of the hem of his shirt and reached over to
change the
station.
After a few awkward seconds, her finger managed to find the button.
*CLICK*
Like a virgin
Touched for the very first time
*CLICK*
That girl is pretty kinky
The girl's a super freak
I really love to taste her
Everytime we meet
Fox smiled into the kiss as he felt a smothered giggle rise in his
throat,
which broke restraint a second later.
To his relief, Dana pulled away from the kiss with a thoroughly amused
smirk
lighting her face as she reached over and mercifully shut off the radio,
falling against his shoulder, laughing mirthfully.
"Well, as far as that went...it was uh..."
"Yeah," he smiled, chuckling in spite of himself when he spotted
something
out the window on his side, "I didn't even see that car pull up."
Amused, Dana looked up from his shoulder, still holding on to him, and
peered
out of the window.
"Oh my God...." her face fell as she spied the all too familiar car.
"What is it?" Fox's expression grew uneasy at her unreadible expression.
"That's Ethan's car."
"Ethan?"
"My jerk *ex*-boyfriend."
Fox's eyes followed the path of her gaze to the car not five yards away
from
them, taking immediate note of the tell tale shadows dancing on the rear
window. A flagrant display of the college kid's favorite brand of
"quality
time."
'Oh no.'
"1967 Porsche 911. Found it rusting away in some old man's garage. He
worked
for a year on that car. It was his baby. *Nobody* was to handle that car
other than him. For a almost a *year*, he wouldn't even allow anybody
else to
*sit* in that car. I'm gone for two hours and he decides to exchange
bodily
fluids on the seats."
If the situation hadn't been so serious, he would have been a bit turned
on
by her knowledge of vintage metal. That is, if he hadn't wanted to shove
that
metal somewhere unmentionable at the moment.
'What a guy.'
"Hope that car's name is 'Christine.'" he replied, subtly implying who's
what
he'd like to shove it where that very minute.
"Hope your girlfriend's name is 'Leigh.'" she answered him, displaying a
little displeasure of her own.
She knew about horror movies, too. Wow.
"I wish."
"*And* that she's eating a hamburger."
He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something less
than
couth that would hurt him and disgust her.
"Somehow I don't think so." he settled.
"Not that I want him anymore or anything, but this really pisses me
off."
"Me too," he gently rubbed her leg up and down from knee to thigh
beneath the
ripped denim in a calming gesture.
"I mean...Well, you're girlfriend's in for a disappointment. Ethan gets
stage
fright *real* easy."
Fox snickered. As his laughter slowed, an mischieveous idea came to his
mind,
bringing a small smile to his face.
"Don't worry, they're not even going to get *that* far." he patted her
knee
on last time.
"Where are you going?" she creased her forehead as he lifted her off of
his
lap and distributed her in the passenger seat.
"You'll see," he pulled the door handle and stepped out into the open
air.
"Fox, what the Hell are you planning?" she crawled over to the driver's
seat
only to fall back across the seat as he shut the door as briskly and as
quietly as he could.
Slowly, as not to disturb the pair sprawled across the backseat, he
crept up
upon the car. Just as he was within three feet of the car, he stopped in
his
tracks--
"*Ooof*" he exclaimed as Dana impacted into his side.
"What are you doing?" he whispered roughly.
"What are *you* doing?" she asked in a similar voice.
"I asked you first."
"Shhhh," she brought a finger to her lips, gesturing towards the car.
He nodded, and carried on with his plan. Dana felt her heart speed up a
little as he continued to advance on the car.
She thought she felt her heart *stop* completely as he stepped right up
to
the window. The suspense of not knowing what he was going to do was
killing
her.
He strained his eyes a little, just barely making out the outline of the
two
figures through the steamed up window.
"Oh..Oh..,"he lightly cringed at the familiar British giggling he could
hear
through the plexiglass.
He smirked.
'Never *did* know how to fake it, did you Phoebe?'
As she watched him look though the window, Dana felt a thousand stomachs
form
in her abdomen, making it difficult to breathe.
"Oh..Oh..OH--"
*KNOCK* *KNOCK* KNOCK* Fox rapped lightly on the window.
"You done in there man? She said I could be next!"
Dana's eyes went WIDE.
The marbles in her stomach turned to giggles as she felt a steady stream
of
them about to leave her throat, she turned towards the Ford and ran,
feeling
more than seeing Fox running just a step behind her.
They felt the car rock with the impact as they crached inside, fumbling
with
their seatbelts as they battled the rumble of their hysterical laughter.
Suddenly, the back door to the Porsche was swung wide as Ethan stumbled
out
of the car, shirtless,looking pissed as Hell, ready to kick the crap out
of
whoever dared to cross his path,...just as soon as he finished fumbling
with
his belt.
"Can I?" Dana gestured toward the window.
"Knock yourself out," he smiled, putting the key into first gear and
swinging
the wheel sending the tires squeeling in a sharp turn.
She rolled down the window halfway as they rode past the Mustang.
"Having problems Ethan?!" she yelled out the partially open window.
Dana watched as he hopped up and down, trying to get his shoe on,
grinning as
he fell down face first in the mud.
"Okay, we can go now," she rolled up the window, smiling at Fox as she
adjusted her seatbelt, leaning slightly against the door at the force of
the
circle they made around the Porsche.
He smiled to himself as the car screeched out of the carpark, summarily
spraying both the fallen Ethan, and the half-naked Phoebe Green, exiting
the
car to see what had so rudely interuppted her annual illicit encounter,
with
a shower of mud.
'Oops.'
*******************************************************
May 29, 1984
2:35 A.M.
"This is the place," she gestured towards the not *too* trashy, somewhat
respectable building branded in large gaudy letters to be the Heartbreak
Hotel. He pulled up in front and put the car into park.
I ain't missing you at all
Since you've been gone away
I ain't missing you--
Fox reached over and flipped the dial, sending John Waite's heavy voice
into
oblivion.
"This song...it irritates me," he told her.
"Oh--me too..." she nodded, fidgeting a little at the silence that
enshrouded
them once more.
"So what are you going to do?" he asked.
She looked up at him, smiling at his concern.
"My parents and my younger brother live in Anapolis. I was going to head
over
to visit them in a few days anyway. I might as well get a head start."
He nodded, comtemplating something.
"Well, um...," she looked over at him, unsure of what she could say,
"thank
you for...being with me tonight. It was nice having someone to talk
to...who
understands."
"Thank *you*," he smiled, feeling a wave of something wash over him as
she
turned around in the seat.
"Well,...good night," she turned around and casually grabbed the door
handle.
"Wait," he lightly touched her arm to still her movements, dug his
wallet out
of his jeans pocket and unfolded three fifty dollar bills.
"For your flight to Anapolis and...like, you know, food, and spending
money
and all that--" she cut off his words with a brief, but deep kiss.
As she pulled away, he noticed two things: the small smile on her face,
and
his closed hand--
With the three fifties still in it.
Before he could protest, she wrapped her arms him in a gentle embrace,
laying
her head against his shoulder. Relenting, he slipped his arm around her
and
layed his empty hand against her hair.
"You are such a good person," she whispered against his neck once more,
"don't let anybody treat you like you're anything less."
He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the meaning of her words and
the
scent of her hair.
'You either.'
All too soon, she withdrew from his arms, opening the door and slipping
out
of the car.
She stood on the sidewalk for a moment staring at him through the car
window,
before smiling at him and waving goodbye.
Fox sat in the car and watched as she turned and headed up the stairs to
the
hotel.
As he watched her slip inside the door to the lobby, the radio flipped
on
again:
I could escape this feeling, with my China girl
I feel a wreck without my little China girl
I hear her heart beating loud as thunder
Saw the stars crashing
His first instinct was to reach over and shut off the radio, but as he
watched Dana walk to the elevator through the giant picture windows, he
casually allowed the radio to play the song.
Looking down, he spotted her denim jacket on the floor. He picked it up
and
touched the soft denim, examining it almost as intensely as he had her
face
just moments before.
I'm a mess without my little China girl
As the song continued, he felt himself unconsciously brush all his
saddened
feelings aside.
Somehow, he had the strangest feeling that this would not be the last
time he
saw her.
'There's plenty of alleys out there.'
******************************************************
Well what do you know?:)
Who says you can't start all over?:):):)
Like it? Love it? Hate it? Printed it out to read later, then burned it
with
a lighter once you read it?
If you liked it, please tell me, and what you liked about it:):):)
All my thanks go out to those of you who convinced me to start all over
with
this story, and to be honest, I think I like this draft even better:)
Thank
you all so very, very much:):):)
Rebecca's "Addicted to Love" Soundtrack Album Side Two--because vinyl is
*still* the greatest:)
Track 10: "Owner of a Lonely Heart"
Track 11: "Love Stinks"
Track 12: "Like a Virgin"
Track 13: "Super Freak"
Track 14: "Missing You"
"WOMAN! Get back in here and make me a sandwich!"
----Mulder "Arcadia"
(whenever I want to make my mom laugh, I say this line)
(
geocities.com/area51/portal/1720) (
geocities.com/area51/portal) (
geocities.com/area51)