Fiona, Why?

Your curiosity has drawn you in, you clicked the link to this thread. I'd say buckle yourself in for a wild ride, but being an ATS member, I suppose you buckled up a while ago. Therefore, the following story won't mess with you at all. Or will it?

I was surfing ATS as usual tonight, checking my threads, watching the fire-hose, everything I normally do. It had rained earlier, and my mood was rather rancid, fault the weather and a 5:30 darkness now thanks to DST and the fact that we're headed toward the solstice December 21st. I'm EST.

The wife had gone to work already, she works midnight turn, and after ten I have the internet to myself, unsupervised.

Stop your thoughts from the plethora of pornsites out there. I rarely watch porn anymore. I research.

It's MY TIME. I was researching how far YU55 was off the ecliptic, scanning videos, when there was a knock at my door. Actually three raps in a row.

I froze in my chair at my laptop. I was expecting no visitors.

RAP, RAP, RAP. It happened again. Only louder.

I went to answer the door, and once I opened it, I stumbled back a few steps. I peered.

"Fiona?"

"Who else would you expect at this time of night?"

"Uhm, I really wasn't expecting anyone." I thought for a moment. "Why are you here?"

"Before we get to the Why, I think you should tell the ATS members the Who first."

"You mean, of course, explain who you are?"

"Yes."

I looked into her eyes, and they chiseled back at me. Dark blue infinity. My eyes darted over her body, and I sighed. Aroused. Fiona was a Lover I used to have. She is an imaginary construct, a fictional character that exists within my mind, the perfect woman, and my best friend. She is a representation of my female side, and I occasionally incorporate her into stories I tell. She only occurs during times of extreme duress, which is why I am puzzled that she appeared tonight. Call it a fugue, a state where off world people become real to an individual, but it's not like that, as I talk to her, and she touches me. I feel her caress on my skin, and it tingles. She only exists in my mind, but when she re-appears, she is with me until I solve my problem.

"Is that good enough? Wanna come in?" I gestured, and she brushed her body against mine as she saddled past. I felt her heat as she passed by, and breathed heavily. She was a bit older now, but supple and subtle in all the right ways. She knows what turns me on.

She looked around my house, and sighed, then walked slowly towards me. I braced.

"I've missed you, hun."

She wrapped her arms around my neck, and leaned into kiss me. I met her repose, and my lips parted to accept her invitation. Our lips brushed gently at first, then slowly melted into a heated unison. I wanted her. She backed away, taunting me.

"So you really have no clue as to why I am here?"

My lips were still tingling and my thoughts were completely unfocused. I couldn't answer, so I looked at her. She was clad in a pair of jeans, a white t-shirt, with no bra, and her nipples revealed their presence in the landscape of her top. I sighed heavily, words thin, desire thick.

"Think about it."

"I am," I said, not really thinking but desiring the beautiful creature in front of me. My mind was a rush of passion, and that was pretty much it. I wanted her. Really badly.

She looked at me, glaring.

I only wanted her to touch me again. Her touch makes my skin feel warm.

She glared, still.

"OK, what do you want from me? The truth?"

"A confession."

"What, that I've had sex with my wife three times this year, and it's November now? That's not something I want to tell. You are here because of something else, deeper than that. I know it." I took a step closer to her.

She took a step closer to me.

"So what is it?", I asked.

"I don't want to tell you", she said as tears welled up in her eyes.

Somewhere in the interim I found myself holding her again, and tightly. I had my head resting on her shoulder and I breathed in the scent of her hair. She smelled nice. Like Lavender.

She sobbed gently as I held her. She's never done that before. I've known her for over ten years. I could sense she was afraid.

"You are going to die soon," she whispered ever so slightly, "and I came back to see you through." Tears welled up in my own eyes, as I held her, and I choked back feelings of what she said as resolve.

I held her, close to me, not wanting to believe the truth. We spent our tears freely.

Our embrace lasted for what seemed like eternity, and in the end, she pushed me backwards on my bed, freeing my pants and zipper, and hours later we laid together in post-coital bliss.

I brought up the question once more, my mind ever inquisitive, as we lay naked together, "So why am I going to die?"

She purred to me, sleepy and satisfied, half-dreamily, yet coherent enough to make out her words.

"It's because you don't believe in yourself."

I kissed her forehead, snuggled next to her, and drifted off to sleep.