Because you asked, but not quite what you asked for, I know. I’m just that
way. I started this with no idea that it would end the way it did. Perhaps
the song (Tragedy by Belinda Carlile) that inspired this very short piece
of fiction made this particular end inevitable. For now at least.
A story in the ‘Emily’ series (till I think of a better name!). The first
two being “Irreconcilable Differences” and “Seriously”. You can find them,
and this story, here: http://ithidrial.livejournal.com/ (the links are over
in the sidebar. )
Methos doesn’t belong to me but oh, if he did! Where was I? Oh yeah…
Methos doesn’t belong to me, but Emily does. The usual :)
Rated PG13
Thanks for reading!
@____________________@
The Tragedy That We Knew As The End
c. 2006
“It’s not fair,” she sighed as his lips caressed her throat. “I’m
exhausted, can’t think straight, and you’re taking advantage.” She didn’t
sound too put out despite her half-hearted objections.
“I never play fair,” he reminded her in a soft whisper that set her heart
racing, his teeth tugging gently at the lobe of her ear. Reaching behind
him, he locked the door to the on call room.
Emily pulled his head down, kissing him languorously, before pulling back a
little to murmur, “We’re divorced.”
“Not yet, we aren’t.”
“You sound like Derek,” she said, distracted by the feel of his hands on
her body. Closing her eyes, Emily tried to reign in the feelings that were
threatening to overwhelm what was left of her common sense. At 2 a.m. and
after ten hours of surgery, exhausted, she had no defenses left against her
husband’s calculated assault. “It’s not fair,” she whispered again,
relenting, pulling him closer.
Gently but inexorably, Methos pushed her back, hands and lips never
resting, pressing the advantage he knew he had. “You keep saying that.” He
sounded amused.
“Shut up.” Her legs hit the edge of the cot. “I hate you.”
“So you told me on our first date.” Now he was laughing in between the
hungry almost desperate kisses. He pulled off the top of her scrubs,
pushing her down onto the cot. “And frequently over the last thirteen
years,” he reminded her.
Emily didn’t care anymore. She didn’t have the willpower to stop what was
happening. In the months since he’d arrived at Seattle Grace, she’d done
her best to excise him from her life and had failed miserably. Inch by
inch, he’d worked his way through her defenses, despite her best efforts.
Maybe this was inevitable. Methos was the one touchstone in a life that had
become unreal in its complexity, no matter how much she hated herself for
having to admit that.
“You didn’t listen to me then; why should now be any different?” she asked
huskily, tangling her fingers in his hair, inhaling his familiar scent. How
could she still love him so desperately after everything that had happened?
Emily submitted to him and to herself. She’d pay for this later, but later
seemed so far away.
Methos held her face between his hands, looking into her eyes with a hunger
that should have scared her. But she was past fear, past anger. “I can’t
let you go, Emily. I know I promised, but I can’t.”
She swallowed, shaking her slightly between his hands. “There’s only
tonight. I can’t promise you anything else.” Closing her eyes, not able to
bear his gaze any longer, she whispered, “Please don’t expect more, Methos.
Let now be enough.”
He was totally still against her, before gently, like silk brushing her
lips, he kissed her. “I can’t.” Pushing away from her, he drew the bed
sheet over her as he stood. “I can’t; because it isn't enough,” he
whispered, as if to himself.
Emily pressed her palms against her eyes, willing herself not to cry as she
heard his footsteps cross the short distance to the door. Then he was gone
and once more, she was alone.
End
Ith *Ithildin@OnDragonsWing.com* Denise
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