Title: Restless
Author: Kimber
E-mail: Kimber@Now-Online.com
Catigory: XF/LFN ( slight crossover ) LFN= La Femme Nikita
Spoilers: Brief Never Again
Rating: NC-17
Keywords: Scully/other, slash
Feedback: Please.
Special thanks to Susan P. for Beta reading.
Disclaimer: Scully and Nikita don't belong to me. I just borrowed them for a while. I also borrowed the lyrics to the song 'The Love Thieves' from Depeche Mode, again they're not mine, I just borrowed them briefly.


Restless again.

The last time I felt this unsettled I ended up drugged. Got a tattoo and slept in the bed of some guy I just met the day before. Who I might add was not only seperated from his wife but also had a tattoo with a jealous streak and homicidal tendencies. Well, in the end I still love my tattoo. The fact that my personal life has turned into an X-File still disturbs me. At least I have a reminder that I'm still capable of an impulse once in a while. Sometimes I wonder when I turned into the ice queen everyone calls me, what moment of emotional grief made me into this person. What happened to that carefree girl I used to be. Sometimes... I really miss her.

God, I'm so...

I'm itching for something. Someone. My mind is at war. And logic isn't winning. I miss being touched. Touching someone. I can't even remember the last time someone else touched me in passion. I need to do something. Hell, anything. If I don't... I know I'm going to go crazy. I can't deny myself again.

Why should I?

Is there a reason to say no anymore? For that matter was there ever? Life is so uncertain, why deny myself? --Why? --Why? I can't think of any good answers when I know there should be a million. But I just can't bring myself to care anymore.

What am I doing here? A club of all things. Am I too old for this place? I don't care tonight.

The music cuts through me, it's throbbing beat calling to that restless part that has already taken control. My body feels so strange, as if Im wearing someone else's skin. Itchy, tight and so hot.

I get a drink at the bar. No wine... Wine is for good little girls who deserve a treat. Tonight I'm not a little girl. And I'm sure as hell not planning on being good. This isn't about what I deserve, it's about what I want. I take the shot. The vodka does an icy burn all the way down. Then I do another. After a third, I turn around and look at the dance floor. Packed wall to wall with undulating bodies, it's hard to tell where one person stops and another begins. The techno beat and vodka start to do their work and my body starts to move to the music.

I don't hear the music tonight. Tonight, I feel it. Flowing through my blood, through my mind, taking me higher onto this restless plateau I'm reveling on. I turn back to take another shot, but a hand reaches out to stop mine before it touches the glass. I stare at the hand, my sluggish thoughts not quite grasping what is happening. Short nails, clear polish, long slender fingers, no rings, smooth white skin. I finally look over to see who this hand belongs to. My mouth falls open as I stare into one of the most beautiful faces I've ever seen--long white blonde hair, light grey-blue eyes and a mouth... Oh what a lovely mouth, lips parted slightly as if she were going to say something.

I continue to stare as my other senses catch up and I realize she is talking... Something about dancing I think, so I nod my head and she leads me into the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor. The techno song is fading out, replaced by something with a slower beat. We begin to move, her hands on my waist, mine on her shoulders. I have to look up to see into her face. My senses are inflamed. I stare into those beautiful eyes and get lost. It feels like she can see right through me... Swaying to the music I finally hear the words...

Oh the tears that you weep
for the poor tortured souls
that fall at your feet
with their love begging bold....

Her arms tighten around my waist. Does she know me? Can she see how lost I feel?

Arms fall apart
for the retched disciples
and the love that they swore
with their hearts on the Bible
beseeching the honor
to sit at your table
and feast on your highness
as long as they're able
love needs its martyrs
needs its sacrifices
they live for your beauty
and pay for their vices
love will be the death of
my lonely survivors...

She pulls me close to her, my head pillowed on her breast. I feel surrounded-her smell so sweet, skin so soft and warm. I feel sexy, safe and for the first time that night I feel right. No guilt or second thoughts. This is what I was looking for. She pulls back a little, a question in her eyes. One to which I can't say no, don't want to say no. I say yes with a look.

She takes my hand and leads me from the floor. The feel of those fingers wrapped so securely around my own and the thought of what might come, send my mind spinning, my senses on overload. It feels so good after being so cold and controlled for so long.

We walk out of the club and onto the sidewalk. Instead of going to the parking lot, we walk in the other direction. I wonder if I should ask where we're going, but I really don't care as long as she's the one going with me. We walk for a while, both lost in our own thoughts, then come to a stop in front of an apartment building. Through the front doors and up the stairs, she still clutches my hand even as she unlocks and opens the door. I take the first step into the semi-darkness of the room. The only illumination coming from a blue neon light attached to one wall. I hear the door close behind us and the snick of the lock being turned. I stand there with my back to her, my hand still held by hers, my breath quickening at the thought of what was to come. Slowly...so slowly, she pulls me to her.

My back against her front, I feel her breasts against my shoulder blades, burning me with their heat. Surrounded by her again, that sweet smell I will never forget. Both her hands end up on my stomach, my shallow breaths making them move in a caress. She bends her knees slightly, and places her lips against the side of my neck. Just that slight touch makes me go weak, and I feel a rush of wetness between my thighs. She kisses her way to my ear, for a minute I think she will say something. But instead I feel the wetness of her tongue, at this touch I stop breathing altogether. Her hands unbutton my blouse and my breath returns as a low moan. All the buttons are undone and my shirt hangs open, barely covering me. My skin is luminous from the neon light and I slowly watch her hands come up to cover my aching breasts. My shirt cloaks them and I move away slightly to shrug it off, so I can see her touching me. I want to feel everything there is to feel tonight. See everything there is to see. I want to remember this. Her fingers lightly caress my nipples, which have been tight little buds from the moment she took my hand at the club. There's such a wonderful ache as she rolls them between her fingers. She pinches one and a shot of pleasure goes straight to my core. I don't ever remember anything feeling this good. Slowly she drags her nails lightly from my breasts down my abdomen to the waistband of my jeans, her fingers dipping below the band slightly, setting off sparks wherever they touch. Her luscious lips at the side of my neck are making me shiver. She goes still for a moment, asking a silent question. In answer I reach down to undo the top button of my jeans, then the next and the one after, until they are an open vee, an invitation to my most vulnerable place. It's all I can do not to beg her...Touch me please. I want to scream out, but there are no words. Her fingers continue down their path, nails running across my skin, tracing the open vee to the bottom. I'm on fire, about to combust, shaking with need. Then her fingers slip below, into my hair, between my lips, into my fire. She gasps into my neck. I can feel her trembling with me. I'm so wet, I coat her fingers on the first pass. She rubs me slowly up and down my length. Entering me just briefly, then bringing her fingers back up, lightly touching my clit, which makes me jump slightly. I'm almost there with a few brief strokes, so ready to come I'm already spasming.

She must feel it, because she lightly bites my neck and then she touches my clit, rubbing it slowly in circles, driving me wild, taking me higher than I thought possible. God, I'm so hot, burning out of my skin, and she's igniting me with just one finger. Higher I climb, standing on my toes pushing my body into her. Trying to get away... Trying to get closer... Just when I think I can't take another minute, it starts, a slow burn- it's so good. It radiates up my body from my clit. I feel it everywhere, shaking with it, until it reaches my voice that has been silent all night. And then I scream my loneliness, my pain, my relief, my joy- all this with just a touch from those beautiful hands. I stand there, knees trembling, leaning into that sweetness at my back. I slowly recover my breathing and begin to turn around, to look into her beautiful eyes, to caress that lovely body, to bring her the same pleasure she gave me.

Her phone rings.

Jarring us both with the intrusion. Turning around fully, I look at her and see she can't ignore it. I watch as she answers it and hear the low murmur of her voice. I think I hear the name Josephine and wonder if it's hers. For the first time since she asked me to dance at the club, I have a lucid thought. Her voice, a low husky murmer, with a slight accent I cant quite place, distracts me. She hangs up and looks at me, tells me she has to go.


Something she can't ignore.

I just stare at her, loving the voice. Hating the words, but this I understand.


I understand...

She walks toward me, picks up my shirt on the way, brings it over and hands it to me, kissing me lightly. Our first kiss of the night...our only kiss of the night. Then she pulls away, tells me she has to go.

"Just one more thing," she says...

"I'll see you soon."

God, I hope so.


The End. Maybe...