I wrote this weeks ago, after Carly's very first Flash, basing it on spoilers and my own speculations. This fic contains sexual/adult situations, so please, turn back now if you are underage.
This fic posted here is NOT NC-17. If you choose to go elsewhere and read the unedited version, you do so at your own discretion.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada.
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Come Undone
When the flash ended she was left with a myriad of images that were far too clear. More distinct still was the shiver of sensation that followed in their wake, like echoes through her body. Though the word 'echo' implied a lessening and distance of feeling, and that certainly wasn't the case. She leaned heavily upon her elbows, cradling her face and pressing the heels of her palms into her closed eyes, as if the motion were enough to force the unwanted feelings out.
If only they were unwanted. But it seemed her body wanted them all too much. Her mind was more complex in its reaction, throwing these untoward fantasies at her, then berating her when she couldn't help responding physically.
When the fantasy ended, slipping back into her mind like something sinking into dark water, she was left with an aftermath of desire and urgent need. And a cold thread of guilt running through it all.
There were aftershocks of light on her eyelids after she finally removed the pressure of her hands. Pushing her hair shakily out of her eyes, she stood up from the table and very slowly removed some bills from her purse without bothering to count them. Enough to pay for her coffee and then some, but she didn't care. She carefully walked across the moderately busy diner, focusing herself on the steps that took her to the door of the lady's room. Once inside and seeing an expanse of empty floor, she abandoned all sense of composure and threw herself into the stall farthest from the door, bolting it closed behind her.
There she sat upon the closed lid of the toilet and rubbed firmly at her temples, asking herself why she couldn't just rub her damn thoughts out. The fingers of her right hand ran over the raised surface of new scar tissue, and inevitably hesitated.
No, force was not the key. But sweet reason certainly wasn't working either. She gave a self-derisive snort of laughter at that. When had had the word 'reason' ever been a part of her vocabulary? And if there was one thing she understood about this situation, it was that it went way beyond the realm of reason.
What am I going to do, came a weak voice in her mind. She had no idea what situation she was referring to, but she knew she couldn't possibly mean her 'flashes'. She certainly wasn't going to act on them, but she just might go insane, she decided. Since they seemed to be painting a very detailed and vivid patchwork on the inside of her head, and had steadily started to leak into dreams that were already tainted by him.
Him. What a roundabout way of naming her problem. And she felt a sense of defeat at that thought. Giving that much ground to him in her mind meant he had the ability to take more. Between her sleeping dreams and waking flashes, she was beginning to feel that helpless falling sensation that said she was about to lash out and do something drastic. Groaning she dropped her hands unceremoniously to her lap, then wished she hadn't as her arousal came pounding back into the centre of her awareness.
Weighing two options as best she could in her lust-tinted mind, she quickly came to a decision and leaned forward to peer beneath the wall of the stall, seeing the room was still completely empty. The ends of her blonde hair swept the floor as she rose back up, but she paid it no more attention than to brush it habitually over her shoulder.
Taking a deep breath and resigning herself to what she was going to do, she wiped sweating palms on the coarse material of her skirt, then slowly inched it up over her thighs. Hooking her thumbs through the band of her panties, she lifted up just enough to hike them down around her ankles, then slipped one slender, booted foot out to spread her legs more accommodatingly.
I won't think about him, she thought, her hands sliding up the inside of her thighs in silent echo of the man in her fantasies. If I don't think about him, then I'm not really being unfaithful. She leaned back, her head coming to rest against the wall behind her as she finally let go of her denials and justifications.
As her body became focused with the promise and pleasure of release, her eyes closed and her vision turned inward. Again, she saw him in that hazy inner landscape, where the setting was dark and inconsequential, and they were centre and sharp---the only actors in an intimate play.
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Part edited for ff.net. Blah. :-P Go here to read this chapter in all its completion (remember to remove all spaces in the following url): http: //pub219. fobesessionthecarlomessageboardfrm8. showMessage? topicID=315. topic
You may also continue reading here for the 'R' version.
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With a choked gasp, her eyes blinked open, adjusting to the light once more as she gazed up at the ceiling. She was biting her lip hard, her left hand resting, with fingers tellingly wet against her knee. Her right had moved at some point, ending up on her thigh. The tender flesh there was mottled with the marks of her nails, the slight sting of pain coming only when she noticed the scratches. Thankfully, it wasn't anything that wouldn't fade before Sonny got back. Too bad the flashes wouldn't do the same.
Her eyes turned bright with tears at that, fingers shaking as she grabbed several handfuls of toilet paper to clean herself up. After this she was going home to take a long, hot bath. Then curl up in her bed and sleep, if the fates allowed.
Composing herself into the woman who had first entered Kelly's, she stood a long moment facing the door to the stall, then undid the latch and stepped out. She stopped suddenly to see she wasn't as alone as she thought, her face instantly flaming into vibrant colour as she hoped she hadn't made any noise to call attention to herself.
She decided the answer was definitely 'no', as the girl continued to ignore her, leaning closer to the mirror as she fussed over her wind-blown hair. Carly gave a silent sigh as she stepped up to the length of sink herself, setting her purse on the edge of the counter and pawing intently through it. Her eyes flicked up to the mirror once, and caught the curious gaze of her stranger-companion. The thought that this girl clearly had 'trouble' stamped across her forehead almost made her smile. Except that she realized the brunette was paying far too much attention to her now to be in the passing. She glanced back down with a frown.
Carly's suspicion was confirmed as the teen turned from the mirror and leaned one hip against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. "You're Carly," she stated without herald.
Carly paused in her search, not exactly certain what she was looking for anymore. It didn't matter. She began sorting through the contents of her purse anew, pushing aside a wallet and a brush. So this girl knew her name. Who didn't in this town?
"Last time I checked," she said with feigned-distraction. She really didn't need this now.
"My uncle says all these great things about you, but I have to wonder---what kind of idiot stays with a man that shoots her in the head?"
Carly bristled instantly. Now this was bordering on harassment. Who the hell did this little bitch think she was! Turning abruptly, her purse falling forgotten on its strap, Carly leveled her with a glare that had been known to send street-hardened men back a few steps. But the teen didn't appear intimidated in the least. In fact, she seemed to perk up, and even smile.
"Who the hell are you?" Carly hissed.
A definite smile then, not friendly or repentant, but a smile nonetheless. "Sage," she said heading toward the door out, "Sage Alcazar."
Carly blinked, staring long minutes around the now-empty bathroom. In one motion she turned on the tap and began scrubbing at her hands.
TBC...
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