From:             MdmSpooky <MdmSpooky@aol.com>
Date sent:        Tue, 10 Mar 1998 15:39:05 EST

TITLE: Beyond the Edge	 II
AUTHOR: Moondaughter
EMAIL ADDRESS: MdmSpooky@aol.com
SPOILERS: none
RATING: R, for Adult situations and sexual themes
(nothing too graphic) KEYWORDS:  MSR, S/otherR (very
little of it though) CLASSIFICATION: VR DISCLAIMER: Ok
everyone, I've got a secret.....they aren't mine! 
Surprise, surprise!  Mulder and Scully belong to
God...um, I mean CC, 1013, etc.  I am not trying to scam
on anyone's originality, so suits: stay back!  SUMMARY:
A continuation of Part I  (IOW, read Part 1 :-)

I hadn't planned on writing a second part to this story,
but I had several requests to do so.  Please let me know
what you think of this at the addy above; a part three
is rolling around in my head.  If this one is well
received, I will write the third one.


Beyond the Edge Part II    By Moondaughter

I think I must be in shock.  I can't move, I don't think
I'm even breathing. I'm standing in the living room of
my apartment with tears running down my cheeks, over my
naked body, and splashing on the floor.  The room is so
silent I can hear the ominous sound of my heart beating,
breaking, and above that the sound of erratic breathing
from across the room.

I know that Leah's skin is beneath my fingers, but my
sense of touch has gone numb.  I am aware now only of
the sound of my pulse and the breathing, becoming
calmer, more assured.  My eyes have not left Mulder's
face since he opened the door to find me dancing wildly
through my deepest fantasy.  I could never have imagined
a more horrible, more perfect moment; I would never have
dared.  Yet I am here, acting out both my wildest dream
and my most terrifying nightmare.

I could not possibly have gauged Mulder's response to
the revelation of this hidden side of me; certainly I
never intended him to see it.  However, standing before
him now I begin to feel a rush of warmth that is not
humiliation spread through my body.  An involuntary
smile passes liquidly across my face, and my hand
reaches out to him.  I am attempting to invite him to
join us, but I get no further than the utterance of his
name before he smiles.  I cease my effort at speaking as
he begins to move slowly toward me---toward *us*, I
remind myself---and tugs roughly at his tie.  His hands
betray his suave demeanor; even from my far vantage
point I can see them shake, and it is this simple
observation that calms my racing heart enough to allow
me a breath.

I hear myself whisper, "Fox," and watch in wonder as a
light forms in his eyes that I have never before
witnessed.  The light melts over his face and he seems
to glow from within.  This is the man I spend nearly
every waking moment with, the man that after five years
remains a mystery, the man whose face has haunted my
dreams---and yet, it is not.  He is somehow different,
more gentle, more innocent, more beautiful, if such a
thing is possible.  I can see none of his bitterness,
his loss.  I see only tenderness and.....no, I cannot,
*will* not think that.  I am almost able to set my mind
free, but not quite.  I will not allow it that
dream---this one here, now, is enough.

He stands now before me and cups my face gently in his
hands.  I see his lips form my name, but I hear nothing;
the blood is again rushing through my ears and drowning
all sound save its own.  I again whisper, "Fox," and am
enthralled as the light in his eyes intensifies.  We
stand this way for what seems like hours until a slight
movement in the corner of my eye captures my attention
and snaps me briefly out of my reverie.

Leah's face registers in my muddy brain like an arrow of
fire, and I remember why we are here.  I reach out to
her, and she takes my hand in hers, drawing my fingers
to her lips.  As her tongue teases the tender skin on my
fingertips I close my eyes and soar back to the sun.

I am aware next of my bed, solid beneath me, my only
tenuous hold on a rapidly dissipating reality.  My body
is being battered by long, crimson waves that threaten
to consume me.  Each time I feel myself begin to drown,
choking, unable to breathe, I am pulled upward and my
head is once again above water. I open my eyes to meet
those of my tormenters, the god and goddess whose hands
and tongues rise and set the moon.

I writhe in the heat of scorching passion, twisting,
turning, but silent.  I need this, I want this, my body
is screaming, "Please!" but my pride will not allow me
to cry out; I will not beg.  I realize I am whimpering
and try to stop but cannot.  A face materializes above
my own, the violet eyes rippled as though under water. 
From light-years away I hear Leah whisper, "Goodbye,
Dana," and then she is gone.  The waves however, do not
cease, but roll in sharper, harder.  I stare into the
hazel eyes of my Saviour, and I love him so much in this
moment that I feel my life must be slipping away.

I scream his name as a long, searing wave crests above
me and rips my soul from its shell.  Flashes of blue
lightning explode behind my eyes as I flounder in the
rapids of a raging primordial sea.  I feel myself being
reborn of the first gods; I am pushing my way from the
womb of the earth in a single, ecstatic shudder as long
as time itself.  The secrets of heaven are just within
my reach, and as my fingers close around them I feel
myself beginning to sink back into my body.

I lay motionless for what seems like eons trying to
restore order to my universe.  I become aware of strong
arms wrapped around me and open my eyes to meet the gaze
of the man who has shown me what is beyond the edge of
sanity and brought me safely back.  I look deep within
his hazel eyes, into my love, my only dream, searching
for something, an explanation, a hint of his thoughts. 
I catch a glimpse of an emotional depth I never thought
he would allow me to see, and then he smiles.  His
fingers smooth back my hair and I sigh softly in the
stillness.  My heavy eyelids release their resistance,
and I sleep.

finis