Title: Visionary
Author: Margaret Brown, aka Andromeda Valentine
Fandom: Mutant X
Pairing: Shalimar/Emma/Jesse (kinda)
Rating: NC-17
Status: New (03/05/03)
Archive: Yes to list archives, anyone else please ask first.
Feedback: Yes, please!!
E-mail address for feedback: andromeda_valentine@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: None, yet
Other Websites: Crimson Redd - https://www.angelfire.com/goth/crimsonredd
Disclaimers: Not mine - the Mutant X gang belongs to Tribune...
Summary: Jesse sees something he wishes he hadn't. Or does he?
Warnings: Explicit femmeslash, voyeurism, and an overall dark tone... Also, slight spoilers for a couple scenes in the Season Two ep "No Man Left Behind."
Notes: In response to Luzmaria's birthday fic request - any pairing, any fandom, including somewhere in the fic the line "I am not here, and they are not naked..." I was going to write her an Andromeda fic for it, but this idea hijacked me instead, and came out *much* darker than I'd anticipated...
And just in case it wasn't completely clear, the 'half-memory' Jesse has at the end is from 'No Man Left Behind' - Emma zaps some bad guys with a broadband projection of extreme panic, then forces Jesse to forget about it when he freaks over how intense a projection it was. *Very* creepy...
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I am not here, and they are not naked...
I'm not standing here in the shadows, an unseen voyeur by sheer accident of bad timing, and the woman I've only just begun to notice is *not* falling headlong into the arms of the woman I consider my sister...
I close my eyes, as if that'll make this all go away, but Emma's soft cry begs me to open them again. It's a tiny little mewl of pleasure from the back of her throat, an unconscious reaction to the feel of Shal's hands on her breasts, and it makes me burn to be in Shal's place.
Emma leans back against the wall, unbuttoned shirt sliding off her shoulders as Shal kisses her, and whimpers as Shal whispers something in her ear before tracing a path down to one erect nipple.
It occurs to me - again - that I should go before they notice me, giving them back their privacy, but I find myself with more care to stay than will to go. I can only hope, as I stand rooted to my spot, that neither Shal's Feral senses or Emma's empathy pick me up, because there'll be hell to pay if they do.
The thought fades as Shal straightens, shoving Emma's skirt up past her hips, and my body reacts to the fact that Emma apparently doesn't wear underwear, even under those short skirts of hers - another painful fact I'm sure to recall in the dark hours of long, sleepless nights.
Shal trails a hand up the inside of one of Emma's thighs, fingers threading through the dark hair between them, and Emma wraps a long leg around Shal's waist, trapping Shal's hand as she rides the rhythm it sets with tiny little cries that almost send me over the edge.
Then, just as I'm sure Emma's about to lose it and take me with her, they shift, Shal falling to her knees with Emma's leg propped up on her shoulder. I can't watch what comes next - it's too personal, too private - and I force my gaze upward to Emma's flushed and pleasure-ridden face, still unable to tear myself away, yet feeling even more the voyeur than ever.
Emma suddenly reaches a hand out to Shal, almost as if stroking her hair, and I notice the telltale static tingle on my skin with just enough time to guess what's about to happen and realize that I'm effectively at ground zero.
The psychic projection of Emma's orgasm rips through the air almost visibly, sending me into oblivion on something balanced on the razor-thin edge between pleasure and pain.
Consciousness returns only a few seconds later, but I have spots dancing in front of my eyes in time to the throbbing in my head, and my whole body aches.
Alone now, apparently unnoticed, and suddenly disgusted with myself, I retreat to the shower. I climb into bed afterwards, seeking oblivion again in sleep, but only find strange dreams filled with half-memories of lying shaking at Emma's feet as she stares down at me with inhuman eyes...
