Author's Note: Well, jeeze, lookie at all the people. looks up innocently at the readers This is a first/limited third POV from/of Xena. (I say this because I think the POV changes a little throughout, or is fairly open to interpretation.) It could take place absolutely anywhere in the Xenaverse timeline, or beyond. There, got enough information? Okay, finish the boring disclaimers and stuff and READ!
Dedications: Still the same people it's always been dedicated to. Especially to Illy, LK, Tali, Tango, Rissy, Kat, and everyone who I still see online, as that's not many anymore.
Summary: "Tongues spitting back refusals and paving the way for future disasters. Letting them run off to rebuild the walls and cool the fires. Because she's afraid. Corrupted by the feelings invoked… lips brushing lips."
Warnings: Kissing.
Rated: PG-13
Date Started/Finished: October 14th, 2005
By Delenn
There were so many reasons and worries and fears. The mind went running off on tangents of debauchery. Somehow convinced that every look meant something more, somehow worse, full of malicious intent and vicious aspirations.
Until one look was dangerous enough to warrant harsh words on a tongue, lashing, like fire. Because that one look would lead to more, and more would lead to wickedness, so that the whole world would suddenly turn upside down.
If only she would give in.
To glances that screamed out so much, and touches that burned so hard. To someone who could see her, see through her, and lick the darkness with ease. Defenses crumbling at just the right words at perfectly the wrong time.
Corrupted by the feelings invoked.
Steps closer, touches closer, words closer, body… lips brushing lips.
Cruelly teasing, tasting, testing, pulling at her dissolving resolve. Making all the reasons and worries and fears somehow… not…
And then, building, twisting and snaking through them - that rush of power that otherwise seems so dangerous. Twining into this rush of desire and want and… them. Throwing away all guards, until she hears the beating of her heart singing, "right here." And it belongs.
Dangerous, weakening her resolve, and altering her outlook, until she'd give, take, kill for it. Surging through her, a gasp of breath and everything comes crashing backwards. So that what felt so simple seems so full of ulterior motives that she pulls away – analyzes and regrets.
Tongues spitting back refusals and paving the way for future disasters. Letting them run off to rebuild the walls and cool the fires.
Because she's afraid.
Caught up – too busy to dig inside herself for resolve that it won't mean anything more. That the looks and imagined plots will be just that. So that she'll know, she'll know that one touch doesn't have to lead down a fatal road because she won't let it go there.
But one kiss and she doesn't know anything. His lips brush hers and she doesn't care whether the world has to pay for her own private demise.
So she pulls back, pushes away, because she could so easily let go and the world might not be there to see the finale.
Or maybe, it will.