Posted by PK on January 20, 2002 at 17:35:46:
Julian could hardly believe his luck, even now after what seemed like hours of the wildest sex
he'd ever had. And with Her. Exhausted, sated beyond expectation, he lay with his succubus
sprawled on top of him. He bathed in the musk and salt sweat scent of her, he could feel her
hot breath as he inhaled. Fluids and air conjoined.
Some party. Never expected this...and he had thought...
It took some time to speak. Eventually, quotidian issues arose as they always do, flies in the
ointment, pimples on the face of God.
"What about Robert?" he muttered fondly and a little anxiously. Her (previous?) boyfriend,
the bastard. Hadn't seen him lately.
The blonde sex kitten licked his nose. "No problem, don't worry about it."
Julian was not so easily reassured. "Why not?"
"He's gone."
"Gone?" How gone? What gone? "When? How?" Fleet-footed Mercury had robbed his
tongue.
Felice sighed patiently. "I ate him," she explained. Or so it seemed at the time.
It was hard for Eric to remember the conversation that had followed. In the morning it was
hard enough to remember his own name, (Reroc, Eric the Fish or Freddie the Frog? Eric
would do) or at least what he'd called himself the previous night. From long experience at
dealing with hangovers, he made himself a healthy breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausages,
grilled tomatoes, baked beans, hash browns and toast, with a bowl of cornflakes and three
mugs of tea. Half way through the fourth cup of tea, he remembered..
The entire lyric of 'Solar Flares' by Robert Wyatt (the 'Ruth is stranger than Richard' album)
is:
'They burn
For you.'
Trust me, it's how you sing it.
And that was what had been playing on the stereo at the precise moment when something or
other had happened.
Robert. Something about Robert. And why had he thought of himself as 'Julian' while he
was....
Fucking Felice. Star Trek convention. Party afterwards. How long ago had that been? Last
night? It seemed like longer. Who would have thought he'd meet Felice somewhere like that?
Felice the Popular Girl, Felice the 'Fuck off I'm Fussy' Girl, Felice the ManEater...
Oh, right. I had my Julian Bashir persona on. And the shirt. The shirt Felice pulled out of the
tight trousers so she could run her hands up inside, over my belly and pinch my...
What had Felice come as? Some sort of Klingon/Bajoran/Orion cross? Or somebody who'd
read a few comic books and just generalised: your standard sexy alien female is in all
obvious and necessary aspects human but may use pointy ears, minor skeletal adjustments,
modifications to skin colour etc, as fashion statements. No overt nudity, just imply it.
Strongly.
Go back a bit. Canadian. Anglophile She. Thus Julian.
Felice sighed patiently. "I ate him," she had explained.
Oh, that one. What had he said, anything he'd regret? Eric turned the TV up. This could be
really embarrassing.
Oh when I was a little Ghost
A merry time had we...
Each seated on his favourite post
We chumped and chawed the buttered toast
They gave us for our tea.
What the FUCK had he said?
"Oh, right," Julian had said nonchalantly. "Didn't know you Klingons did that." It was obvious
that Felice was still in character, whatever character that was.
"Not a Klingon." Tone not angry, not apologetic. "It was an accident. Mostly."
"You ate him by accident?" Not wanting to know, go to sleeeeeeep...
Muscles shift against muscles, Felice deliciously squirms and snuggles, Julian, exhausted,
stirs slightly.
There had been something after that, Eric was sure. Oh, he was meeting her for lunch.
Oysters. Something about oysters. Blue Oyster Cult? Caviarre?