Welcome Nightmare

CODE: D (set in the D Is For Damien storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): Four P (in progress)

PAIRING: Lt. Alan Kincaid/Officer Christine DelBora (M/F)

EXPLANATION: This one is a FUNNY scene which NEVER ever happened...as the ending reveals. Yes, I'm allowed to pull a fast one every so often. ^_^ When Officer DelBora first appears in the in-progress Four P, she gets this very VERY weird, kinda creepy crush on Lt. Kincaid. Everybody knows Kinnie is nuts. Even DelBora. Doesn't stop her from crushing on him though. So to shake her up a little I gave her THIS scene. Bwa-ha-ha-ha. (There is actually a followup scene somewhere, non-erotic, where she confronts him after having this dream and there's quite a lot of awkwardness involved. *evil laugh*)

DISCLAIMERS: It never happened. And it never will. But you know that already, right?

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Welcome Nightmare

She steeled herself and stepped into his office.

The door shut behind her. She glanced over her shoulder briefly, then back toward him. He looked at her and stood up as she stepped forward.

"I got those reports, Lieutenant," she said. She tried to keep the quaver out of her voice and knew that she didn't altogether succeed. "Just like you asked."

"Thank you, DelBora. You can place them on the desk."

He didn't say anything else; she put them down and stayed there, fiddling her fingers and staring at the walls. The truth was she felt uncomfortable just being there; from everything Hawthorne had told her she knew Lieutenant Kincaid had a rep, and she wanted to find out more about it, but didn't know exactly how she should go about doing that. If he had a rep, wouldn't it be a bad idea to ask him?

He came around from behind the desk, toward her. She glanced up briefly as he flicked down the shades and turned back. She realized that the shades facing the street had been drawn before she'd come in. She felt something twist in her chest.

"Uh..." She trailed off, cleared her throat, tried again. "Lieutenant..."

"No one can see in," he said, his voice low. "And no one can hear either."

Somehow, absurd as it was, she knew that was the truth. He stepped forward and took her by the shoulder. Officer DelBora was frozen; she found that she couldn't move at all. All she could do was stare at his face, the fire that was burning out of control behind his eyes.

She found the remnants of her voice, stuck in her throat. "I don't--I don't know if this is a good idea, Lieutenant--"

"Who said it should be?" He was taller than she was so he bent down and his mouth covered hers. She started but his hand gripped her shoulder harder. When she brought up one hand to try to push him away he caught it as well. She broke away and flailed at him with the other one; he caught it just as effortlessly and held them, DelBora still struggling.

"You wanted it," he said; she couldn't understand how he knew. Had Hawthorne been talking about her behind her back? To Kincaid? No one gossiped to Kincaid! She kept straining to break free, yet his grip was tight as a vise.

"Please--let me go, Lieutenant."

"You wanted it," he repeated, and kissed her again. She started flailing her arms anew; yet the longer he kissed her the less desperate her struggle became. It was as if he had some power over her; her head was growing foggy and she felt dizzy. He let go of her wrists and one hand moved to her back; the other she could dimly see tugging at the buttons on his shirt. Soon he'd pulled it off, and drew her to him, his fingers clutching her back.

His kiss moved to her neck; he unbuttoned the top of her shirt and pulled it down, his mouth moving over her shoulder. Her eyes closed; she arched her neck, her head falling back and her breath coming faster. She could feel a throbbing deep inside her; the rational part of her mind, being shoved continually to the back, cried out that this wasn't right, she couldn't let this happen, she couldn't let him do this to her--she had to shout, scream, do something to catch the chief's attention, yet hadn't Kincaid just told her no one would hear? She'd wanted it, but it still wasn't right--she didn't know anything about him--but she successfully shoved the voice out of her head and brought her own hands to his bare back, running them up and down. The hell with rank; this was the chance she'd been waiting for, and she hadn't even had to say anything. Hawthorne--or whoever--had done that all for her.

His hands moved to her waist and down, clutching her behind. When he lifted his head from her shoulder she could feel his breath, coming hot and fast on her neck; they started kissing each other, and if the urgency of that was any indication she knew he must want her. She couldn't believe it had been so easy. There was still the slight fear that Bowen or someone else might walk in or listen at the window; but the fog was growing so thick in her head that she didn't care.

Kincaid moved her toward the desk and with a motion of his arm swept everything to the floor with a crash. Neither noticed. She took him by the neck, running her hands through his hair, moaning into his mouth. He pulled off her shirt, and her bra; laying her back on the desk he grasped at her breasts, his mouth still exploring hers. His hands moved to her belt and undid it, pulling her pants down. She could feel him tugging at his own belt, undoing it; her breath came faster in her throat and she pulled at it as well, helping him. He nuzzled her neck; she squirmed and tried to shirk off her underwear. The throbbing was growing stronger; all she wanted to do was feel him inside her. She opened her eyes and gasped at the air. Kincaid lifted his head to look at her--and she screamed when she saw his glowing demon eyes, his fangs and horns and leering, evil grin--

DelBora sat up in bed with a gasp, her hand flying to her head. Immediately the fog lifted from her mind; she glanced around wildly, seeing only the dark outlines of the objects in her bedroom, the posts of her bed disappearing into the shadows above. A thin stream of moonlight filtered through the window. There was no office--no Kincaid.

She let out her breath and took another one, trying to steady herself. Her heart was thumping wildly; she put a hand to her chest in an attempt to slow it. The dream had seemed so real, somehow; it hadn't had any of the surreal qualities of any of her usual dreams. Yet that was all it had been, no matter how much she might have--but denied to have--wished it weren't. She glanced at the clock. It was almost five o'clock. She still had about an hour of sleep to go, yet knew she wouldn't be able to sleep again after that.

She also felt that going to work, seeing Lieutenant Kincaid again, would be just as bad--probably worse. She didn't know how she'd face him.

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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.