Hallucination - f/f slash, NC-17
{USER_FIRSTNAME} {USER_LASTNAME}
AUTHOR: Scott J. Welles
ARCHIVE: Yes, but please write and tell me where.
CATEGORY: f/f Slash
SPOILERS: Yes, for Season 7. Story takes place shortly before the season
premiere (but after the opening sequence in Atlanta)
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Your dreams know things that you don't. For intstance...
DISCLAIMER: All "ER" characters and institutions are the property of Warner
Bros., ConstantC Productions and Amblin Television. This is written
strictly for entertainment value, no infringement of copyright or ownership
is intended, and nobody is making a profit on this piece. As always, any
errors in continuity, characterization, or common sense are entirely my own
fault.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Scotty Says:
Don't even ask me where the inspiration for this one came from. I'm
stumped.
Once again, if you don't like f/f slash, DON'T READ!
SEND ALL COMMENTS (positive or negative) to scottj...@yahoo.com
Hallucination, by Scott J. Welles
"Tell me about the dream."
"Okay, here goes...
* * *
Long hours don't bother me; I can always find something to do. Mine is a
meticulous, analytical mind. Organization and preparation are not work to
me, they are an autonomic process, like respiration or digestion. Taking
inventory is a meditation, not a chore...
Someone behind me asks what I'm doing. I don't have to look back to see who
it is; I know the voice. I knows every voice I've ever heard. It's a
variant on the photographic memory...
I reply that I'm just taking inventory. The patients are few, and the hours
aren't. Everyone needs a way to pass the time. Unless new patients have
arrived...?
The tall woman in the doorway tells me not to worry, they haven't. She was
just making conversation...
I should be satisfied at that, but I'm not. I've never seen her indulge in
idle chatter with anyone before. If she has business with you, she says so.
Otherwise, she leaves you alone...
I want to turn back to the task at hand, but I don't want to be rude, and
she's still standing there in the doorway, leaning casually against the
jamb. All six-foot-something of her, without an ounce of fat anywhere.
I've never seen her lean or slouch, either. She's either standing tall, or
moving...
What does she want...?
* * *
"So you're at work when this dream takes place?"
"Yes. Down in the ER. At least I think that's where the room is. It's got
cabinets and cupboards like the drug lockup, or the supply room, maybe. But
it feels like the ER."
"Do you feel comfortable when you're working?"
"I feel...purposeful. Active. I like getting things done."
"Mmm. Do you have an active social life outside your work?"
"Well, yeah, I've got friends, and family and all that. I'm not a
workaholic, I mean I don't feel incomplete unless I'm working. Why do you
ask?"
"The setting of the dream might be an indication of its meaning. Please, go
on."
* * *
She's making me nervous, staring at me without saying anything, like she
knows something I don't. I wish she'd either say something or go away. I
ask if she needs anything...?
No, she doesn't...
Does she want to help me, I ask, meaning the inventory...?
There's a smile on her face. She doesn't smile often, and when she does,
it's reserved and noncommittal. But she's definitely smiling at me...
She pushes easily away from the doorjamb and walks slowly toward me.
Beneath her lab coat and skirt, her legs are flawless. They are impossibly
long and slim and smooth. I've got good legs, but hers are the flawless
legs of a mannequin brought to life...
Yes, she says as she approaches me, she is here to help me. And as she puts
her arms around my shoulders, I begin to tremble with anticipation...
* * *
"The woman seems to be one of your co-workers, then? That is, a member of
the hospital staff?"
"Yes, I know exactly who it is."
"Oh, so you do know her name?"
"Uh-huh.
* * *
Cleo...?
Her lips on mine silence my question. It's a gentle, soothing kiss, and I
respond involuntarily. I kiss her back, enjoying the taste of her mouth,
the motions of her tongue, the feel of her arms around me...
When we pull apart, her face is radiant, a sight I've never seen. She is
aglow with something I'd call love if I saw it on anyone else. But Cleo's
face is always cool, often hard. Not like this. I don't understand...
I'm so happy for you, she whispers to me...
* * *
"What is she happy about?"
"Hell if I know! I don't think I've ever exchanged four words with her that
weren't directly related to one patient or another."
"You're not close to her, then?"
"I don't know if anyone is close to Cleo Finch. She doesn't seem to be
interested in making friends with anyone else at work, and I don't know what
she does off the clock. Probably two hours of calisthenics, followed by two
more of weight training and two of aerobics."
"Physical fitness is a passion of hers?"
"What's beyond passion? Obsession? Compulsion? I mean, I like to keep
fit, like anyone else, but she's like the Energizer Bunny. Just not pink
and fuzzy."
* * *
Her touch is strong, yet soft at the same time. I can't push her away. I
don't want to push her away...
She runs a hand lightly down the length of my body, and the seams of my
clothes dissolve under her touch, melting away like cotton candy. Scraps of
cloth fall like flower petals, baring my skin. I shiver, but not from cold.
I am afraid...
Afraid of what, she asks me, as though I had spoken...?
I tell her I'm afraid someone will see me naked, I tell her. But that's not
the real reason...
* * *
"Is this making any sense so far? Or am I just babbling on?"
"Perhaps it is. Being naked in a public place is a common theme in many
people's dreams."
"Yeah, I know, it represents public insecurity, or fear of discovery, or
whatever. But I don't have anything to be insecure about. My residency's
going great, I'm in the running for Chief next year. I don't have any deep,
dark secrets to hide. Or if I do, they're a secret to me, too."
"Perhaps there's something you're not consciously aware of."
"Like what? I'm gay and I don't know it?"
"Not necessarily."
* * *
Cleo spreads her lab coat like a cape and embraces me, wrapping her coat
around me, the way my mother used to do when I was very young. I press
against her for warmth, and I can feel that she is also nude beneath her
coat. Her skin is hot against mine, the way a steaming mug of coffee is hot
against my hands. Not a painful heat, but a sensuous one...
It's all right, she tells me. They'll know soon enough. And she kisses me
again...
I return her embrace, holding her body close against mine. I don't know why
this is happening, I only know it's going to happen no matter what I do.
And I want more...
* * *
"I'm not interested in women, period. I don't think there's anything wrong
with it, it just doesn't appeal to me. Men do. Besides, if I was going to
experiment with a woman, even in my dreams, why wouldn't it be someone I
like? My friend Nancy, maybe, she's cute."
"You don't like Cleo?"
"Well, I don't dislike her, I barely even know her. It's not like we hate
each other or anything."
"How do the two of you get along?"
"We get along fine when we end up working together, but otherwise, we don't
encounter each other much at all. She's off doing her thing, and I'm off
doing mine... um, can I have some water?"
"Of course. Help yourself. Are you all right?"
"My stomach's been a little funny lately."
* * *
Her hands explore my body, and tension melts away, muscles relaxing,
yielding to her slightest touch. Our mouths have an endless thirst for each
other, we cannot drink our fill...
Even in the midst of my desire, I know this is unlike me. I don't love Cleo
Finch, I don't sleep with women...
That doesn't matter now. I need...
* * *
"Tell me more about Cleo. What other qualities can you describe about her?"
"That's...that's a tough one. She doesn't seem to show a lot of emotion, so
it's really hard to get a handle on her personality. Except..."
"Except what?"
"I was going to say, except when she's with kids. I've helped her with
pediatric patients a couple of times, and she's pretty good with them. It's
the closest I've seen her to being really likable."
"Really?"
"Yeah. We had this girl last week, fifteen years old and already giving
birth. Scared as hell, of course, but Cleo talked her through it. You
should have seen her encouraging this girl, reassuring her. 'You're doing
beautiful, honey, you can do this...' Like that."
"I see."
"See what? What's that supposed to mean?"
"It doesn't mean anything. I was just noticing that you were smiling while
you described Cleo helping the pregnant girl."
"So I smiled, so what? I approved of her manner with a patient! Does that
mean I've got a thing for her?"
"You tell me."
* * *
Her hands slide down my back, to my hips, and lift me off the floor. She
holds me easily, pulling my legs up around her waist as she continues to
kiss my neck. I feel the edge of a countertop beneath my buttocks as she
sets me there, freeing her hands. They glide over my chest and stomach,
cutting a pleasurable swath through my nerve endings. The tones of her skin
against mine are rich and lovely. Brown on gold, cocoa and honey...
* * *
"I am NOT a lesbian, okay?!"
"I wasn't implying..."
"My debutante days are all the 'coming out' I plan to do in this lifetime!"
"Calm down, please..."
"I don't have any issues with my sexuality. I enjoy men, I've never had a
problem with that. My sex life has always been great... and I have no
attraction to any woman, least of all Cleo fucking Finch!"
"I don't think you do, either."
"You don't?"
"No. We've worked together long enough that I think any sexual identity
issues would have come up in an earlier session."
"Great. So then why does she keep trying to fuck me in my dreams?"
* * *
My breasts seem to swell as she runs her tongue over them. The nipples
stiffen even more under her fingertips. Only one man has excited me this
much before...
* * *
"I'm sorry for yelling. This just frustrates me so much. My dreams are
usually very clear and straightforward. I mean, it's easy enough to figure
out what they're trying to tell me. But this one..."
"I'd noticed that about you. Whenever we talk about your dreams, you seem
to discern their meaning with very little need for my help."
"Right. Like the one last autumn that I told you about? And I was certain
it had to do with my father's health?"
"And did anything come of that?"
"Yeah, that was right before he told us about his heart condition. I knew
he was having trouble."
"I've also noticed that the dreams that affect you most strongly seem to be
about your parents, either about their influence in your life, or their
reaction to it."
"God, I can't imagine how my parents would react if they knew I was having
sex dreams about a woman. Not even a Chinese woman, for that matter!"
* * *
She kisses and licks her way over my abdomen, as if worshipping at a shrine.
Something is concentrating within me, and I realize Cleo is not causing it.
She is reacting to it, taking part in it. It's something beyond my control,
but it is because of me, not her...
You're doing beautifully, she tells me...
* * *
"Would the fact that she's not Chinese matter to them more than her gender?"
"I don't know, the issue of gender's never come up between us. But I know
they want me to marry a Chinese man. They're very traditional in that way."
"Cleo's not Chinese, I take it?"
"No, she's African-American. Maybe they wouldn't mind me seeing a white
boyfriend, but a black one? God, if they ever found out..."
"Is there anything for them to find out? I don't mean about Cleo, or a
woman."
* * *
The counter beneath me has re-contoured itself, and I recline easily on it.
My legs are elevated, held as though by invisible hands, as strong and as
gentle as Cleo's...
She spreads my thighs with her hands...
I know the time is near...
Time for what...?
We can do this, she says as she brings her mouth down to me, opening me
gently...
And it begins...
* * *
"Well...I did have an affair with a black man recently..."
"Was this before the dreams began?"
"Yeah, a few weeks before. We met in the ER, he was a patient at the time.
Dr. Greene introduced us, and I asked him out and we started seeing each
other..."
"Tell me about him."
"He's a nurse...a MALE nurse, obviously...he's black, like I said, and very
physical. I mean, he's got to work out a lot, 'cause he's got a body that
would stop traffic."
"Hmm. Not unlike Cleo."
"Well, it...what do you mean?"
* * *
Her tongue penetrates me, and waves of fire crash within me. Her expression
is loving, even rapturous...
* * *
"Did your affair end badly?"
"No, we just grew apart. We both knew, going in, that it wasn't going to be
anything serious. Just a casual relationship, which was all we were looking
for."
* * *
I clutch at her head, trying to pull her inside me. My spine arches as a
cry is ripped from my throat...
I am helpless to alter the outcome. I am only a vessel for what is
occurring...
* * *
"We just wanted to have a good time together, and the sex was always
terrific, but...the last time, especially..."
"What was the last time like?"
* * *
Exploding within me... Consuming and yet nurturing...
I can't make it stop. I don't want it to stop...
It's almost here, Cleo tells me...
* * *
"It was...imagine the best you could hope for, and it's all that, but
there's something more. Something you can't describe, because you've barely
caught sight of it. Like the logical walls of the universe parted, and you
had just a glimpse of something magical behind them...oh, I don't know what
I'm talking about."
"I think you do."
* * *
I don't know what's happening, or what part Cleo plays in it, and I am
terrified by what I can't understand. And yet, I am almost in love with it
at the same time...
Her movements are graceful, delicate, soft, yet precise and accurate. She
is taking me where I must go...
The climax builds inside me...
* * *
"So what's Cleo Finch got to do with it?"
"I don't think the real Cleo has any significance. I think she represents
some aspect of yourself that you know about, but haven't yet recognized."
* * *
Sweet agony...immense pleasure...overwhelming...
* * *
"What part of myself would choose Cleo for an image?"
"I don't know. But consider her role in your dream."
* * *
Her hands, her mouth, her skin, all bringing it out of me...
* * *
"She's black and athletic, like your lover. She seduces you in your place
of work, where you met him..."
* * *
It is something far bigger than I am, yet it cannot exist without me...
Please, I have to... I'm so scared...
* * *
"So you think I'm not over Frank?"
"Perhaps, but I think it's more than that."
* * *
Older than time, yet newer than a fleeting moment...
Oh, God... I can't... Yes, I can...
* * *
"She undresses you in public, so there's a likelihood that your secret is on
the verge of discovery..."
"What secret, dammit?!"
* * *
I want... please, yes...
You're almost there, Cleo whispers. I'm so happy for you...
* * *
"A pediatrician knows something about you, and she's happy for you."
"Cleo? She's only happy when she's with...oh..."
* * *
It's time. Now...
It reaches fruition, deep inside, then erupts to the surface, turning me
inside out...
* * *
"Oh my god, you don't think..."
* * *
I scream...
Ohhhh...
* * *
Jing-Mei awoke sharply, feeling the shattering suddenness of the orgasm.
Her hand, moving unconsciously between her legs, was slick with moisture,
and the power of her recurring dream was almost overwhelming.
She sat up in bed, alone in the dark room. It was still night out, and a
glance at the clock told her that her alarm wasn't due to awaken her for
another hour or more. But she knew she wouldn't be getting back to sleep.
The dream was more vivid than ever, and after her last session with her
therapist, she had a growing suspicion why.
She rubbed her belly through the sweat-soaked tee shirt she wore to bed.
"Frank...?"
And then she was certain.
She barely made it to the toilet before the morning sickness struck.