Transmigration
By Brandon D. Ray
publius@avalon.net
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere and everywhere, so long as my name
stays on it and no money changes hands.
FEEDBACK: Oh, hell yes....
Ephemeral: *FEEDBACK*publius@avalon.net
SPOILER WARNING: Redux II
RATING: Oh, let's call it NC-17, just to be safe.
CONTENT WARNING: Character death (no, it's not M or S, if that makes
any difference). Also, it is possible that some might feel this
qualifies as baby fic.
CLASSIFICATION: SRA; MSR
SUMMARY: Nothing vanishes without a trace.
DISCLAIMER: Nope, I do not own these characters or situations. If I
were THAT smart, I would be rich.
TRANSMIGRATION
by Brandon D. Ray (publius@avalon.net)
UCLA Medical Center
6:32 p.m. PDT
"Move it move it move it!" the paramedic cried as she and her partner
wheeled the gurney down the hall and into Trauma Room 3. The portable
heart monitor hanging from the side of the cart beeped erratically as
the body it rested next to struggled for life
They shoved the gurney up next to the waiting hospital bed. The
paramedic dropped the side rail on the trauma unit bed, then grabbed the
gurney's bottom sheet. Her partner already had his hands positioned
under the patient's body from the other side. "On three!" she said
sharply. "One two three!"
The patient's body slid quickly and smoothly onto the bed. With swift,
nimble fingers, the paramedic disconnected the portable monitor's leads
from the contacts pasted to the patient's body, replacing them seconds
later with identical leads coming from the hospital's own equipment,
while her partner transferred the IV bags and switched the patient over
to the hospital's oxygen supply. The paramedic and her partner then
stepped back out of the way as the trauma unit staff clustered around
the bed. Her partner had called report to the nursing staff over the
radio on the way in; now there was nothing more that either of them
could do.
<<Such a lovely young woman,>> the paramedic thought sadly. <<Such a
tragedy.>> Even after three years in this job, it still got to her
sometimes, and car accidents were the worst, she'd long ago decided. A
car full of people, full of life and energy, on their way to a ballgame,
or a wedding, or just on their way home from work -- then all in an
instant, twisted, scorched metal and mangled bodies. A single tear
trickled down her cheek.
"Hey, Mary," her partner said softly. "Buck up, girl. We did
everything we could."
"I know, Russ," she said quietly, making no move to wipe away the tear.
"But it wasn't enough this time. And I hate when that happens."
"Me too," he agreed.
# # #
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
9:32 p.m. EDT
"Move it move it move it!" Fox Mulder shouted. "Come on, Hot FBI
Woman! Move it!"
Laughing merrily, Dana Scully took the steps two at a time, beating her
partner to her apartment door by half a step. She leaned up against the
door, still laughing and gasping for breath, and fumbled in her purse
for the key.
"Gotcha!" Mulder declared, wrapping his arms around her in a bear hug
and planting a kiss at the base of her neck. "Gotcha!"
Scully felt a tingle of pleasure race down her spine, a promise of more
to come. "Mmm," she replied, tilting her head to give him better
access. "And just what are you planning to do to me now that you've got
me?"
"Oh, horrible things," he assured her, mumbling the words against her
neck. "Horrible things."
"Why Agent Mulder!" she murmured. "I do believe that your intentions
are not entirely honorable." She closed her eyes in pleasure as her
partner continued ministering to her neck, and added, "I hope."
"Count on it, lady," he growled.
"Oh, good." She continued to lean against the door while he nuzzled her
for another pair of minutes, before finally pushing him gently away.
"Come on, Lothario," she said. "Let's get inside where we can explore
your intentions in the detail they deserve."
# # #
UCLA Medical Center
6:46 p.m. PDT
Mary winced in sympathy as the trauma unit doctor hurriedly jabbed a
needle into the carotid artery at the base of the patient's neck.
"Dammit, her pressure's dropping!" the doctor said. "Get me 25 percent
albumin, stat!"
Mary and Russ stood quietly in the corner of Trauma 3, their presence
completely forgotten. Mary knew that they should be going through the
transfer routine: Photocopying their paperwork, drawing fresh linens
from the ER storeroom to replace the ones they were leaving here,
calling in to dispatch to report their availability, and all the rest.
But she just couldn't. Somehow, in the few minutes it had taken to pull
this woman from the wreckage of her Ford Taurus, Mary had become
emotionally involved, and she had to see this through.
For the thousandth time she thanked whatever gods had been responsible
for pairing her with Russ. He always seemed to be able to sense her
moods without her having to say a thing, and he was equally adept at
finding the right thing to say or do in any situation. Now he just
stood quietly next to her, letting his arm brush lightly against her,
giving her just enough contact to keep her anchored in the world, while
not interfering with her necessary agony.
One of the clerical staff arrived in the room at a dead run, and handed
the doctor in charge a slim medical record. Hurriedly, the doctor
riffled through the pages, then tossed it on the table next to the
patient's bed. Apparently there was nothing of use to him in those
pages. Mary could have told him that; nothing was going to be of any
use. She was sure of it.
"Okay, there's no advanced directive," the doctor snapped. "Let's get
ready to intubate her!"
Mary closed her eyes in sorrow. <<Such a sad way to leave the world,>>
she thought. <<Please, god, don't ever let this happen to me. When my
time comes, don't let them stick a tube down my throat and break my ribs
as a final gift.>> She wanted to step forward and object, but she knew
that they would ignore her. They had to do what they had to do. It was
a gruesome caricature of a sacrament.
# # #
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
9:46 p.m. EDT
<<Three months,>> Scully thought happily. <<Three months since we
became lovers, and I have never been so happy in all my life.>> She and
Mulder lay sprawled on her bed, limbs intertwined, each trying
desperately to outdo the other in the administration of pleasure. In a
few more minutes, she knew, she would be completely beyond coherent
thought. <<This is the only game you can play where even the loser
wins,>> she thought.
For the thousandth time, she thanked whatever gods were responsible for
pairing her with this man. What had started as a simple professional
partnership had blossomed with exquisite inevitability into a love
affair. <<Ours has to be one of the strangest courtships on record,>>
she thought. <<But it is so totally and uniquely us. Everything is so
totally perfect.>>
She looked up into Mulder's eyes, and drew in her breath at the naked
desire she saw there -- desire which she knew was matched in her own
eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips
against his in a deep, passionate kiss, her tongue aggressively
exploring his mouth. Then she was shuddering in a premonition of
intercourse as he returned the favor, his tongue probing, licking,
caressing.
Finally, she broke the kiss and gasped for breath as she looked again
into his eyes. If anything, they were even darker with desire than they
had been before, and this in turn drove her to greater levels of
arousal. "I love you so much," she whispered. "Oh, god I love you."
"I love you, too, Scully," he replied, and her entire body shivered at
the tender sacrament of his words.
# # #
UCLA Medical Center
7:02 p.m. PDT
"Flatline!" The tempo in Trauma 3 had steadily increased, the medical
staff working in a controlled frenzy, moving through the familiar,
horrifying ritual, and none of it was doing any good at all.
Now the defibrillator was being wheeled forward, as a doctor and a nurse
began to perform CPR on the inert form lying on the table. Lubricant
was smeared on the paddles, and a warning buzz sounded throughout the
room. Somebody shouted, "Clear!" and for an instant everything else
stopped as the body jerked and spasmed on the table. Mary closed her
eyes; she couldn't watch, she couldn't take it. <<Oh, dear Lord, why
did I ever go into this profession? What monsters we are!>>
She heard a disturbance, and Mary opened her eyes. Another man had
entered the room, and was now arguing with one of the nurses. He was
tall and lean, with bushy black eyebrows and salt-and-pepper hair, and
his craggy features were twisted in agony.
"I'm sorry, sir, but you can't come in here!" the nurse was insisting.
"But this is my daughter!"
Suddenly, Mary had something she could do. She stepped forward, saying
quietly to the nurse, "Let me handle this, Shelley." The other woman
stepped aside, and Mary turned her attention to the man in the doorway.
As she stepped close to him, she noticed the acrid smell of tobacco
smoke.
"Sir," she said softly, "you can't be here right now. The doctors need
room to work, and they need not to be distracted." Her words seemed to
have a calming effect on him, but still he was peering over her
shoulder, trying desperately to see what was happening. <<He doesn't
want to see this,>> Mary thought. <<He doesn't want this as his last
memory of his daughter.>>
Trying desperately to capture his attention, Mary said, "Sir, if your
daughter is to have any chance at all, you MUST allow the doctors to do
their job. She's in the very best of hands, but we have to give them
room." She continued speaking to the stranger, in a low, caressing tone
of voice, and finally, he allowed himself to be led out of the room.
# # #
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
10:02 p.m. EDT
Scully was more aroused than she had ever been in her life. Everything
was perfect; everything was right: The strong, salty flavor as she
licked and nibbled on Mulder's shoulder; the pungent, musky smell of
their mutual arousal; the burning, tingling feeling wherever he touched
her; the sound of their soft, mumbled endearments and inarticulate moans
mingling together; the sweet, sweet vision of indescribable pleasure on
his face.
She wanted him so badly; she wanted him now. There was a terrible,
wonderful ache in her very center, and Mulder was the only one who could
fill it.
"M-Mulder," she gasped. "Oh, Mulder. I need you. Oh, I need you. I
need you now!" She looked up into his eyes again, and again she saw her
own desire there, mirrored and transformed and returned to her a hundred
fold. "Now, Mulder! I need you now!" she repeated.
He rolled off of her, and her entire body seemed almost to cry out in an
agony of frustration at the loss of contact as she watched him fumbling
in the nightstand for a contraceptive. As his trembling fingers were
about to rip open the little foil package, Scully felt a sudden
epiphany, like a blinding flash of light, and her hand shot out and
grabbed his wrist. "No!" she whispered.
He looked back at her, his eyes a mix of surprise, confusion and
desire. "Scully?" he asked. "What --"
She pulled him back next to her and then rolled onto her back again,
sighing with joy as she once again felt his weight pressing her into the
mattress. She looked up at him, and all she could see were his
beautiful, hazel eyes, heavy-lidded with arousal. "Mulder, it's time,"
she whispered, but still he didn't seem to get it. "It's time. I want
your baby. I want to feel it growing inside of me. I want to have your
child, Mulder. I need to have your child."
Time seemed to stop as her lover stared down at her, and then the
confusion was gone from his eyes, and all that remained was love and
desire. "Scully," he whispered. "Oh, Scully. You know I could never
refuse you." And he entered her with one smooth stroke."
# # #
UCLA Medical Center
7:13 p.m. PDT
Mary sat quietly in the trauma center's family waiting room. The
patient's father sat next to her, dry eyed, but obviously steeling
himself for what lay ahead. Russ had disappeared without a word, and
Mary knew somehow that he was taking care of the mundane chores which
would be necessary before the two paramedics could leave this place.
The man sitting next to her had not spoken a word since leaving Trauma
3, and neither had she. There was really nothing to say, and so she
simply sat next to him, being there for him, providing him with an
anchor in the world, just as a short while before Russ had provided her
with an anchor.
<<He's such a beautiful man,>> she thought. <<He carries his soul in
his eyes.>> She fought back tears, not wanting to intrude on the purity
of the man's grief.
The waiting room door swung open and the trauma team doctor stepped into
the room. Mary and the patient's father looked up at the sound, and one
look at the doctor's face was all it took for both of them to realize
what had happened. Tears started to trickle out of the corner of the
strange man's eyes, and Mary found that her own cheeks were also wet,
despite her best intentions.
The doctor nodded softly, and said, "I'm so sorry. We did everything we
could."
The stranger closed his eyes and sagged against Mary; automatically, she
slipped an arm around his shoulders as he started sobbing quietly.
"Samantha," he whispered through the sobs. "Oh, Samantha." She drew
his head down to her shoulder without a word, and the father and the
paramedic just sat there for awhile, communing in their sorrow.
# # #
DANA SCULLY'S APARTMENT
10:13 p.m. EDT
"Mulder! Oh, Mulder!" Scully hovered on the brink of climax, and she
and her lover, she and her Mulder, were the entire universe, two beings
rapidly becoming one flesh. They were surrounded by an intense, white
light, and every thrust was bringing them both closer, closer,
closer....
She could feel him holding back; she could feel him waiting for her, and
the intensity of that knowledge was what finally drove her over the
edge. She felt her body cramp and spasm as wave after wave of orgasm
pounded through her body, and as she reached the uttermost peak, she
could feel him finally let go as well, could feel him emptying himself
into her, giving her his ultimate gift, and for that instant, that one
eternal instant taken out of time, they seemed to merge into one body,
one mind, one heart, a joyous communion....
At length they lay together on the bed, not moving, just being
together. Scully felt more totally alive, more totally complete, than
she had ever felt in her life. She never wanted this moment to end; she
would just stay here, curled around her Mulder, not moving, barely
breathing, until the end of time. The weight of his body on hers, the
warmth of his breath on her cheek, the gentle, intimate touch of his
penis still resting at her very center....Scully shivered, and tightened
her arms around him, trying somehow to draw him even closer.
Abruptly, Scully felt a warm tingling deep inside her abdomen, as if an
act of magic were taking place, and somehow in that instant she knew.
"Oh, Mulder!" she gasped. "Oh, Mulder!" She couldn't believe the
intensity of this moment. She couldn't believe that this was finally
happening to her. To her. To HER. She had wanted it, she had wished
for it, she had dreamed of it, but never had anything prepared her
for...for this.
She had to share it; it was too intense to keep to herself. Once again
she gazed up into her lover's eyes. "It's happened, Mulder," she
whispered. "It's really happened. You've given me everything.
Everything." She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and he was crying,
too. "And I think...I think it's going to be a girl."
Fini
--
"It's not till you get back to nature that you realize EVERYTHING'S out
to get you."
--Special Agent Dana Scully, "Quagmire"
=================
Okay, I succumbed. I've established an online archive of my own X-Files
fanfic:
http://www.avalon.net/~publius/MyStories.html