Author: Jemirah Archive: You want it-you got it. Just please let me know! Spoilers: No thank you. Rating: PG, I guess... Category: W for weird again, and V for vignette. Summary: She ought to see the drawings at his apartment... Feedback: jemirah@hotmail.com Disclaimer: Do I really have to? I think it should be obvious that I don't own them, or I wouldn't be doing this... Author's Note: This is a sequel to Work of Art. Read it first if you want this to make any sense. It can be found here: http://www.angelfire.com/ms2/XFGoddess/j.html Also, I didn't have this beta'd, so any mistakes are my own. ***Dedication: This one is for Andrea too, intended as a peace offering after a little misunderstanding. I hope she isn't mad at me still.*** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Another Work of Art ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She is here, seeing me for what feels like the first time ever. My arms and legs haven't felt this long and gangly to me since the summer of my growth spurt, I don't know what to do with them. She looks up from the sketchbook with an interesting smile on her face, and then back at the book. I am trembling as she peruses the record of my obsession, the hundreds of drawings and sketchbooks strewn out on the coffee table. "Mulder, you can if you want to, I don't mind." God, how is it this woman knows me like she does? I grab for the closest sketchbook like a drowning man would for a life preserver. She lets a small chuckle escape then and I know I am done for. She sits on the floor with her legs drawn up under her. I capture the winsome, almost amused expression on her face, but once isn't enough. Another view, another angle. She is trying to ignore me as I move around the room but she has never seemed more aware of my presence in all the time I've known her. I wonder if she is uncomfortable with this, but surely she would've said something to me. So I move on, yet another angle, this time across from her, in the chair. She has unconsciously moved with me every time I've moved, and now she is looking directly at me, not at the drawings I brought her here to see. I finish a couple more really rough sketches and switch to the next page as I move down onto the floor on the other side of the coffee table. "What are the little rough sketches for, Mulder?" She shows me a sheet filled with several studies of her from several years ago, very similar to the ones I just completed. "I used those to draw a more complete, detailed charcoal sketch." I gesture toward the sheet in her hand. "Charcoal?" "Mmhmm." Oh God, I haven't felt like this in years. "Where is it? I'd like to see it." The expression on her face is neutral, but her voice has dropped to a near-whisper. Maybe it's because that's what my voice was like a moment ago, who knows... "It's in, uh, the other room. I'll go get it." I am suddenly that teenage dork again, I can't make myself say the word 'bedroom'. "That's ok, I'll just come with you." Oh God. My mouth is like a desert. We are in the hallway, going toward my bedroom before I realize it. I barely have enough sense in my head to hope that it's not too messy before I am pushing open the door and going toward the closet. As I hand her the folio, she gives me a strange look and sits on the edge of my bed. My head is swimming now, I can't catch even one of the millions of thoughts swirling around in it. "Why didn't you bring these with the others, to the living room?" Good question, why didn't I? Then I remember, as the look of shock registers on her face as she looks down while opening the folder containing even more drawings. "Uh, I, uh..." "I can see why, Mulder, hush." Did I let her see those voluntarily, or did she force me somehow--voodoo, witchcraft, hypnosis? What was I thinking? "Is this the one you drew from those in the living room?" I nod as she holds up the one that is my favorite of all my drawings. In it, like all the others hidden in this folio, she is nude. Completely naked. It isn't like something you would see in Playboy though, it is a tasteful nude. Art. Or at least I hope that's how she sees it. That's how I meant it. Dimly I wonder if I shouldn't be giving some of these explanatory thoughts voice, but she continues to sift through the drawings and I lose the initiative. She doesn't look terribly offended though, and I get a bit hopeful. "How did you draw these, Mulder, I mean, without, uh, seeing...," she doesn't finish the sentence in words, but with a gesture toward her body. Oh God. "Well, I have seen you, you know." I thought I had blushed earlier... She surprises me now though, by looking up at me with a smile on her face. "You are very talented, Mulder." I am speechless for the nth time today. "Maybe someday you'll let me pose like this for you." !~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~ Ok, here is where I beg you to write me and tell me how you liked or didn't like it, as the case may be. C'mon, you know you want to. jemirah@hotmail.com ~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!