'Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide
voices trapped in yearning, memories trapped in time
the night is my companion, and solitude my guide
would I spend forever here and not be satisfied?
(chorus)
And I would be the one
to hold you down
kiss you so hard
I'll take your breath away
and after, I'd wipe away the tears
just close your eyes dear
Through this world I've stumbled so many times betrayed
trying to find an honest word to find the truth enslaved
oh you speak to me in riddles and you speak to me in rhymes
my body aches to breathe your breath your words keep me alive
(chorus)
Into this night I wander it's morning that I dread
another day of knowing of the path I fear to tread
oh into the sea of waking dreams I follow without pride
nothing stands between us here and I won't be denied
(chorus)
The sharp crunching of snow beneath my boots seems fitting. Appropriate, somehow, filling me with a sense of balance. Strange how the simplest of things could center you in the face of the strongest of emotions.
The noise of this forest is the new soundtrack of my life. I don't remember the last time I spoke.
Subsistence living doesn't require you to speak. It requires you to be smarter than the other animals around you, your senses tuned into the very spirit of the place that surrounds you, allowing you to know the air more intimately than any other living being. It requires concentration… determination… but mostly asinine bullheadedness.
I've done a good job of forgetting why I came here in the first place. It's been at least a week since I thought I saw the flash of red hair in the trees surrounding me. I'm getting in touch with the nature I never knew. I am more than I was, and more than I ever could have been, while there, in my old life.
I'm glad I'm here now. I'm balanced. Calm. I've shed a lot of who I was. Who I didn't need to be.
A whole buttload of unnecessary additives, pushed on me by my own need to fit into society.
Strange how even nonconformists conform.
I can't think of a time when I've ever felt more at peace. More… whole.
Well, except for that gaping nothingness where my heart used to be.
It's amazing how well a person can live after having their heart ripped from their chest by a callous woman-child.
Fucking bitch.
I didn't say I wanted her to marry me. I just let it slip that I was… am… in love with her.
Fat lot of good it's done me.
I can feel the energy in the air around me shift. It almost draws a laugh from my ill used throat.
The forest feels tense now.
I told her easily enough. Simple words, that unleashed a crapaclysm that rivaled the Maelstrom of legend.
For someone so progressive, she sure was close minded about that.
What? Was I her first? Had she never known a dyke before? We're not that hard to spot, we're everywhere.
I could have done so much to her. For her. I could have given her so much… but she fell back on tired clichés, that given our previous relationship, was positively laughable.
I can't believe she tried to use the old ‘We're friends’ line.
We weren't friends, Kimmie. We were enemies. And the only reason why we're not anymore is because I'm retired.
The look in her eyes was enough to convince me that I couldn't do it anymore. Not after that.
No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't… I can't, even now. Hating her isn't in me. Oh, I'm sure as hell pissed as all hell at her. But hating her?
She'd have to actually work at it to get that trophy.
It's not like she's the first.
She's just the most recent.
It's not like I haven't felt this soul sucking wound in my chest before.
… It's never been this bad before. I'll give her that much, at least.
I can't believe that she could just… shut me out. We managed to share so much, while exchanging blows.
Ok, so we didn't. It was meaningless banter, used to spur ourselves on. It was drivel.
Meaningless. Like my entire life after I left my brothers.
I hate that. I hate that she forced me to see that.
I did not want to ever need my brothers again. I'm too damned self reliant to be content with that. I like being on my own. I like knowing that the only reason I'm still alive is because of me.
But my time with them was some of the greatest that I've known. I have to admit, though they annoy the hell out of me, I love the bastards. Even though Hego needs his head beaten in. Preferably with whatever close by, large, and denser than his skull.
Dumb fuck didn't know what I meant when I told him I was gay. Took him until I yelled at him “I HAVE SEX WITH WOMEN, YOU DUMB SHIT!” before he finally started putting it together.
I still think he's working on it.
Maybe when I'm done here, I can visit them.
Don't know what I'm thinking. They're just going to drive me insane and remind me why I needed to leave in the first place.
There's only so many times you can beat your head against a wall before you're left with a massive hemorrhaging and seeping grey matter.
Maybe I should have become a horror writer. Then I could have written all sorts of nice, grisly deaths for my idiot brothers.
And maybe I could write something about Kimmie.
I doubt that would be shelved with horror, though.
Especially not if I were to write about that position that just popped into my head.
Not like it would do any good. You never gave me the time of day. Just bruises. I gave you more than my fair share. I ache to know what it would have been like to know you. Truly know you. To hear your fears, your hopes, your dreams…
Do you plan on being a teen superhero forever?
I hear about you occasionally. When I go into town every once in a while to restock. They know me by now. Somehow old Rusty knows everything about the famous Kim Possible that it is possible to know.
Except how she managed to, with three words, completely tear my world apart. I can still hear the words, ringing in my ears.
Shego…we're…friends You were frowning, confused, and said the first thing that came to your mind. The eternal bane of love confessions: ‘friends’.
We weren't friends, Kimmie. We were enemies. I don't know what sort of alternate reality you're living in to think that beating the hell out of each other is a valid basis for a relationship.
I bet Dr. D's locked up somewhere now. I'm glad. The man is much more use as a research scientist under Global Justice's psych program than anywhere else. I should have left him to them long ago.
But then I wouldn't have run across Kim as much.
Even now, sequestered away from the world, making my way through the light snow cover, that last word reverberates in my head.
Friends…friends…friends…
Kim thought of us as friends.
What that means is anyone's guess. I don't dare hope.
I just know that she thought of us as friends, though it came to her as a shock to verbalize it. That gives me some measure of hope, cruel as it may be.
As long as hope lives, my love for her will not die.
It's been too long now for me to be able to pretend that I'll get over it. I may never get over it. I don't mind. So long as I have my memories, I have everything I need.
I wonder, sometimes, what it would be like to hold her. To kiss her.
I let my imagination have free rein.
Not like I'm going to find out.
I wonder, too, what our cuddling would be like. That is what intrigues me most. The thought of her lithe body, pressed against mine, her curves melting into me effortlessly, her lips moving against my skin as she softly speaks, telling me about her life since I've seen her last…
The darkness will be falling soon. I'm still a good few miles out from my cozy, if rustic, cabin. The thing that sold me on it, besides the solitude, was the almost total and utter lack of any form of modern amenities. No electricity, no running water, nothing. A hot water heater with a pump had been set up to draw in water from the nearby creek and allow me to bathe, pretty much my only modern amenity. I liked it. The creek was pure and clean, originating in the mountains that loomed above me, a few miles to the west. Between them and me stood only the wilds of a nature preserve. Much of the land around here was some sort of nature park. At least it meant I didn't have to deal with drunken hunters, and any I did find I could work out my aggression on, amid the thick foliage…
So much green. It reminds me of her eyes, at times.
Branches give way to my body, bending backwards as I pass by. I make no effort to hide my passing. If I truly wished it, I could probably make it back to my cabin with only the woodland inhabitants aware of my passing. I'm not yet good enough to hide my presence from them.
I could always give all this up. Go back to so-called civilization, reintegrate with the normals, and try to forget her.
What frightens me more than knowing that it wouldn't work, is knowing that I would see her again. Probably married. Rusty didn't say anything about it last time. Maybe he's keeping it from me.
The horrors I imagine are worse than whatever reality is. I'm sure of it.
They must be.
Darkness has fully fallen by the time I finally make it back to my cabin. I stop in the forest, staring at the small building. A fire is blazing inside, a single snowmobile parked near my front door showing how my unwelcome visitor made their way here.
I circle the cabin carefully, looking for any signs that this intruder is not alone. There is only one snowmobile, and the wildlife is active. Whoever it is, they had to have come by a while ago.
I emerge from the tree cover, determined to see who has invaded my home. I stop, midstep, suddenly feeling as though I've been sucker punched in the gut.
That snowmobile has a Global Justice mark.
Whoever's here isn't someone I'm going to want to talk to.
If, indeed, they want to talk. I may have left quickly, but I did cover my tracks. Sloppily. Terribly. But I did.
What the hell. I've lived long enough. I'm ready for whatever Global Justice wants to do with me.
I slip off my shoes and push open the door, striding into my home. I stop short, that same sucker punched feeling socking me again.
Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Fate is not this cruel. There is something more here than her appearing in my living room.
I'm dreaming. I have to be.
She stands, her loose shirt shifting around her torso. I can see her breasts outlined for a single, clear moment.
“Shego.” My name is spoken, not like the confused question of before, but as a statement of relieved, somber conviction.
I'm not sure if my vocal cords even work anymore.
“What do you want.” My voice has definitely sounded better. Right now I sound like I'm gargling with rocks. It gets my point across nicely, though. I can see that by her wincing at the roughness of my statement.
“I… “ She falters and looks lost for the moment, bereft of the very foundation of her world. She searches my face for something. I don't know if she found it, but she takes a breath and squares her shoulders. “You.”
I laugh. I can't help it. After what she pulled, she comes here and says she needs me? Forgive me if I don't believe her.
“Not likely. What do you really need. I've found I'm short on patience since leaving Middleton, so make it quick.” I wonder if I can growl with my voice this gravelly.
“I, uh, I need you. That's why I came here. Nothing else.”
She must be getting slow. In the old days, I never would have been able to pin her to the wall without a long and drawn out battle. She's looking into my eyes, nervous yet calm. She would accept it if I snapped her neck right now, I bet. She's got that kind of ‘I need to work off guilt’ vibe going on.
I hate that.
“You're lying, Princess. You're here ‘cause you think I'll offer you absolution.” I sneer at her, my eyes raking over her contemptuously. “Ain't gonna happen, sweetheart.”
She flinches at the venom in the endearment. I stare at her for a long moment. She's looking at me, that damn fright in her eyes, underscored by her trust in me. It makes me feel things I haven't felt since leaving Middleton.
I push away from her with an annoyed grunt, seeking to escape the sudden rush of emotions I hoped I was beginning to gain control over. Obviously, I was wrong. Annoyed, I stride to the blazing fire, and begin stripping my snow dampened clothes. I can feel her watching me. I'm sure that same damn fear and trust is in her eyes.
“What do you want from me.”
I can feel her jump from across the room as I tug my jacket from my body. The fire eats through one of the medium sized logs and snaps under it's own weight, landing in the ashes with a shower of sparks. I watch the small bits of fiery ash floating in the hot air, little curlicues of burning remnants leaving their mark on the air.
I pull the large snow pants from my legs, the voluminous overalls slipping from my frame to leave me in my jeans and sweater. I can feel the long johns shift against my skin underneath them.
I hear her breathing across the room. It's labored. It reminds of the last time I fought her, just before she completely and totally fucked me over.
I grit my teeth as the memory of her body, firm and curved as she readied for her final blow against me, burns freshly into my skin.
Damn her.
“Whatever you're willing to give me.” The soft words break across me with more force than any blow she ever landed on me.
I turn my head to look at her, a frown furrowing my forehead. She looks at me steadily, still leaning against the wall where I had assaulted her. I could see patches of dampness on her clothing from where I had pressed against her. Her worry showed in the creases between her eyebrows.
A low growl tore from my throat. Before I could think, I was back, pressing full against her. I hadn't thought before tearing across the room.
My mouth slanted across hers roughly, forcing her head back as I cruelly ravaged her mouth. I could feel her curves pressing against me, the bulk of my snow gear having muted the feel of her body. Her breasts are pushing against mine. I don't know if she knows what she's doing to me just by existing.
I grip her hips in my hands as I push my tongue into her mouth. She said anything I want, and apparently, right now, I want her. My fingers dig into her hips as I feel her tentatively responding.
I tear myself from her before I get drunk on her kisses.
Panting, I stare at her, my face blank.
I growl one word: “Bed.” If we're going to do this, we're doing it right. I am having her, and she will forever remember me. Even if she leaves and this is the last time I know her touch in any form, she will remember me.
She stands next to my bed, with it's heavy layers of blankets, nervousness making her shift slightly from foot to foot. I rake her body with my eyes, taking in the sight of her from head to foot and back again.
“Strip.”
Shyly, nervously, she pulls her sweater over her head. In the warm air of my one room cabin, I can't help but be dissatisfied. I've decided to have her, dammit, and I will have her now . This whole slow undressing shit has got to go.
I pull her shirt from her body, uncaring if I scare her. I'm careful not to catch her nose as I pull it over her head, but damn, this is hot. She's standing here now in nothing but her jeans and her bra. I stare at her for a moment as I pull my sweater and undershirt up. She is so mine.
I grab her and pull her into a heated kiss. Her hands are on my shoulders as I push her down onto my bed, pulling me with her. Her knee comes up between my thighs and I moan into her mouth. Her hands are roaming over my body, slipping under the simple sports bra I've taken to wearing here in the boonies.
I thrust a hand under her back and arch her upwards, panting as I break the contact of our mouths. Her lips migrate to my neck, where she sets about nipping and scraping with her tongue. I've never had to do this in quite this position, but I manage to unsnap her bra and pull it from her body. I toss it aside and grab her by the hair, pulling her away from my neck with a savage tug.
I swoop down onto her again, drinking from her lips the sweet nectar of desire long denied. Her nails are beginning to dig into my back. I growl again and pull away, nipping at her lower lip.
I pull my bra over my head and toss it aside as well. Her hands immediately latch onto my breasts and I gasp. Her hands feel so good, new words need to be invented to describe it. Her fingers are moving to my nipples and I grab her wrists and pin her to the bed.
Panting, I stare down at her as I press my thigh between her legs. She's looking up at me, accepting of everything I am doing to her.
It makes me want to forget.
I lean down and kiss her, hard. I think I feel my lip split. I might be wrong.
I pull away, and look at her again. She's still staring up at me with that same look.
Another litany of curses run through my mind. I really need to learn new ones.
Why is she so accepting of this? Is this just because of her guilt?
I undo her jeans and pull them from her body, taking her underwear with them. There will be time later, in my fantasies, for finesse. For soft touches and platitudes of love.
Right now…
I shuck my own pants quickly before slipping next to her on my bed. I pull the covers over our bodies. I've seen her naked now. I don't need to see her naked and writhing from my touch. Or recoiling. Whichever is going to happen.
I slip my thigh between her legs again. This time, I have to bite my lip to prevent myself from groaning out loud. Her eyes have fluttered shut. I guess I don't need to worry about her looking at me with bored contempt.
I keep my thigh away from touching right where it would feel the best. Instead, I rake my nails over her sides, and her butt. She bites her lip and her muscles twitch in response. I can feel them under my fingers.
I can feel heat pouring from her body. It's flowing from her and over my thigh, the burning air between us promising more than can be said. I'm going to enjoy being buried in her.
I bite her shoulder suddenly, without warning. My teeth sink into her deliciously unmarred flesh easily, leaving my mark. I suck at the spot, hard, leaving a deep mark that will be seen for days.
Even if she wants to forget this, she won't be able to.
I look into her face. She's still got her eyes closed. Her hands are dancing over my back and sides, straying close but not quite touching my breasts.
I lean down, my breath wafting over her face. I bet she thinks I'm going to kiss her again.
I bite her nipple sharply before sucking it into my mouth. She cries out, arching into my mouth. Her hands clutch desperately at my back, as I twirl my tongue around her nipple before biting down sharply. I pull the nipple with my teeth, and she cries out, tears forming in her closed eyes.
She's not pushing me away.
Shame begins to fill me. I lower my head, soothing her abused nipple with the broad flat of my tongue. Tears prick at my eyes as she murmurs nonsense at me.
I release her nipple and latch onto her mouth, seeking benediction in the touch of her lips. We kiss deeply, our tongues sliding together. The tears are beginning to streak my face as our bodies shift together.
I don't know what she's doing to me, but I need this, and her, too much to stop and try to figure it out. What started as revenge has turned into healing and if I pause to think about this, I'll scream and run into the hills instead of staying here and getting the top of my head blown off by the sensations she's drawing out.
Her hands touch my breasts and slide downward. There ain't no way in hell I'm leaving this. My own hand slips over her hip and between her thighs, slipping into the wet heat that awaits me. We continue to kiss as I press into her, my fingers pushing through a slight resistance.
My entire body stiffens as I realize what I've done. Her hands are working over my body, seeking to soothe me. Her hands are rubbing broad circles on my back, but the thing that breaks me out of it and allows me to continue kissing her and touching her is the way her hips hunch against my invading digits.
She wants me.
I kiss her deeply as I begin to stroke her, but my attempts to begin a rhythm are ruined by the sensation of her fingers sliding into me. I just about cream on the spot.
It's not gonna take much.
I'm still crying. The salty bitterness of my tears mixes with the sweet taste of her mouth.
I don't think I can ever get enough.
She's stroking me, I'm stroking her, our mouths are pressed together, and I'm crying. I don't think any moment has ever been as perfect as this one.
Before I know it, she's pushing me over the edge, and as I'm coming down, she goes off. She trembles beneath me, her free hand clutching me with a bruising grip. I hope she leaves a mark, so I know this wasn't a dream.
I kiss her once more, gently, and pull back.
That's when I see that my cheeks aren't the only ones stained with tears.
I brush her cheek with my fingertips, gently. She smiles weakly up at me. The fear is gone now. I don't feel so tense anymore.
“Kim…” I stare at her, my fingers lightly touching her smooth, wet cheek. She turns her cheek into my hand and kisses my palm.
“I'm sorry.” She holds my fingers in a loose clasp. I swallow, hard.
“I'm sorry.” She looks down at my chest, not wanting to look at my face anymore.
“After you left, I quickly figured out why my life was so perfect.” Her hand has tightened around mine. “It was because I had you. Even if it was just as an enemy…I had you.” She finishes in a bare whisper.
“I was unhappy because I didn't have you.” My rough voice makes her gaze snap up to meet my own. “I had money. I didn't have love. So, I was unhappy.”
“Do you have it now?”
I twirl a bit her hair around my fingers, fascinated by the strands. “What?”
“Do you have love?”
I still and look at her. She's staring up at me, her questioning eyes pinning me as surely as I hold her down on the bed.
“I don't know.” My honest answer startles her. I don't know what she expected.
“I don't know what I expected by tracking you down. Maybe to apologize. Maybe this.” She looks me in the eye. “But I do know that I'm willing, if you want to try.”
“Try?”
She fidgets, shifts uncomfortably below me. “Try… a relationship?”
“What makes you think that's what I want?” She looks away, towards my stomach. I lift her chin so I'm looking into her eyes. I speak softly and clearly so I know she understands what I'm saying. “With me, there is no trying. You either are into it, or you can pack up and get out now.” She stares at me, blankly. “What's your choice, Kimmie?”
I hold my breath for an eternity as I wait for her answer. She slides her hands up my arms, to wrap around my shoulders. “Anything's possible for a Possible, remember?”
“Even falling in love with someone like me?”
She smiles, slowly. A weight I hadn't realized I carried until then, lifted. “Especially falling in love with you. I did that so long ago I can't remember when I started.”
It's my turn to stare at her blankly. “You did what now.”
“Did I forget to mention that? I've been in love with you since forever.”
I attack her sides with my fingers, eliciting the sweet, sweet melody of her lilting laughter. “No, you did not mention that!” She cries out for mercy and I still, my hands slipping down to her hips.
“By the way… Merry Christmas.”
I blink. “It's Christmas?”
“In about four hours.”
“And you came slogging through the snow to find me?”
“Well, snowmobiling. So not the drama.”
I roll my eyes at her teasing. “What about your family?” She laughs. “They're the ones who told me to get off my butt and do something about you. Well, not in so many words, but they knew I wasn't happy.”
“So you came to find me?”
“Pretty much.”
“On Christmas Eve?”
“Sounds about right, yep.”
I stared at her for a long moment. “You realize, I'm going to have to kill you for that.”
She jumps, startled by my calm proclamation. “What? Why?”
“After this, how am I supposed to ever do anything romantic?” She laughs and I smile. A thought strikes me. “So wait… does that make you my Christmas present?”
She pulls me down and kisses me, slow and hot. She pulls away, her eyes glittering with mischief. “What do you think?”
A slow grin splits my face. “I think I've been a very good girl this year, but with your help… I'm about to be very bad.”
~end