Disclaimer: I do not own many of these characters. Alternate universes involved. This story was written for entertainment purposes only.
WARNING:
The following scene contains mature subject matter that may not be suitable for all readers. Reader discretion is advised. This chapter is thus submitted with the one scene only, so that those who do not wish to read it may skip to the next with little break in continuity.
HOWEVER, that does not mean this chapter is meaningless to the story. If there is any question by staff as to the context of this scene, I will be happy to e-mail you the later scene to which it also applies. If, it is felt after that, that the content is still unacceptable, I will, of course remove it. Also, if there are any problems, I am quite willing to take the necessary steps to correct it, but please contact me first so I can do so. It is not my intention to offend anybody. But I do feel the story itself will suffer in quality if the scene is removed in its entirety. This story IS rated 'R' for many things, including sex. I feel I have put in as many warnings as I can (in the rating, in my initial author's notes, on the chapter title, here) and have given a very simple method for people to avoid it, and keep reading. I don't know how much more I can do. And honestly… I see worse on prime time television, every night.
Chapter 3: Imperfect Reflections (pt 1)
Distortion (n) di-'stor-sh&n: (1) the quality or state of being distorted. 2: a product of distorting 3: a lack of proportionality in an image resulting from defects in the optical system 4: falsified reproduction of an audio or video signal caused by change in the wave form of the original signal
--Mirriam-Webster Dictionary
It's Life's illusions I recall; I really don't know Life at all…
-- Joni Mitchell
The screams woke him. A high keening designed to cut through every distraction, impossible to ignore. Screams that something was wrong, out of place. David. He rushed out of his room – pulling the shirt down over his head, no sense causing a full-fledged riot – and bolted for the stairs.
They gathered in the living room, circled around David who screamed and rocked, hands flapping back and forth. He scanned the room, trying to figure out what small item was not where it should be. Every thing seemed perfect, down to the last detail.
"What's wrong?" Clearly David felt something was wrong, but Trip'd be damned if he could figure out what it was.
"Everything, Charles. Now fix it." Gina never called him "Trip", mainly because everyone else did. She, therefore, would call him something different, but felt the usual diminutives like Charlie or Chuck were unsuited to his demeanour. The formality of "Charles" worked for her, and since she controlled the availability of his living space, he let her do what she wanted. It's only a name.
"Fix what, Geen? I don't even know what's going on!" He looked around helplessly. Nothing, absolutely nothing was out of place. He felt his chest tightening with panic, fought to breathe…
Slash warning!
…he lay on his back, staring up at Archer. Something was odd here, just slightly off. Archer leaned in close, his cheek just brushing Trip's lips. He pulled back, leaned in again.
Yes, please. Yes. Trip wanted to scream it aloud, couldn't. He tried to force the words past his lips, but to no avail. He felt Archer's lips against his, forceful, desperate.
Archer's hands worked quickly, getting the shirt out of the way, then his head moved down to Trip's chest. He paused there for a second, maybe less, then set to work, steady, rhythmically. He leaned in again, mouth to mouth, then pulled back. He straddled Trip, and DiLorenza's face moved in from the top, she looked at Archer with a question, and then her lips replaced his on Trip's. Oh, yes…
Archer picked him up, easily, cradling Trip to his chest. He said something, but Trip couldn't catch it, only "…bed." That would be nice…