Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Midnight Train Written 6.16.06 (C) Rogue 2006

   An urban fairy tale-ish story with definite erotic elements.  This may
tweak graphic sexual sensiblities, so just bear that in mind.  Very likely
NWS.

   Home late again from another boring day.  Lately everything seems the
same, all shades of grey.  She taps her foot, waiting for the subway to
come, knowing it's always sporadic this time of night.  It's the end of the
week and most of the people disembarking from the other side are heading
into town for drinks, dancing and various mating games; and all she wants
to do is get home.  She looks at the board again, the timestamp glowing in
yellow orange dots: 2 minutes until the next train.

   Tired of reading or listening to her iPod to block the world out, she
turns and walks to one of the marble benches in the middle of the platform.
The day has been hot; sweltering at times.  She's grateful that she spent
most of the day in an office building, even if the air conditioning always
seems to be set to one extreme or the other - 60 or 80.  The night air
above is moist, and it settled on her skin like sticky dew.  The air in the
tunnels is slightly less warm, but equally as damp.  Summer in D.C.  It's
cloying and hard to breathe, usually, but that doesn't stop everybody else
from going out and enjoying themselves.

   Only she, it seems, is unable to bear the air quality; the heat.  Sweat
trickles across her brow, tickling, and she moves to wipe it away with a
frown.

   "What I wouldn't do for a portable air conditioner." she grumbles,
placing her backpack next to her.  "Or a fan."

   The items in her backpack are pretty much useless for combatting the
heat.  A biology textbook, a small laptop and several pens and pencils. 
Even the notebook she has is floppy, and would make a poor fan.

   The train finally arrives, and she breathes a sigh of relief, knowing
that most of the cars are air conditioned.  The doors open and she steps
into the cool breeze, thanking the various gods of cool air and divine
providence that something in this awful city actually works the way it
should.

   She's lived in and around this area for most of her life, dreaming of a
life beyond - a life three thousand miles away.  Northern California. 
Someday, she thinks, someday I'll actually pull myself out of this swamp
and move across the country to where I truly need to be.

   If only.

   It's been a dream that's persisted for so long; too long, she thinks at
times.

   Unmarried and with no children, she likes it that way - wishes that she
could live more like a vagabond.  Living life from day to day instead of
being caught up in the monotany that a regular job and bills brings.  She
remembers a friend from a time that seems so long ago, somebody she met in
another country far away.  The tales of their travels excite her, and she
wishes that she could be that person; that she could take that first step
away from what she should do, and finally make the road meet her feet where
she wants it to.

   She settles in the seat, taking a moment to look around at her fellow
passengers.  Anything could happen on this trip home, she thinks to herself
as she imagines it.  The train wrecking in one of the underground tunnels;
everybody evacuating and making their way to the surface.  An earnest
vigilante, chasing a criminal from one car to another, knocking several
people over as they fight in the middle of the car.  The nation's capitol
under attack as the trainload of passengers waits with fearful breath as
they await the outcome.  Somebody attacking her; bringing out a frenzied
response as she breaks his leg and cracks several of his ribs.

   Most of her thoughts are violent, for some reason that she can't quite
understand.  She never really did.  It's something that she shares with
only several other people that she's run across in her lifetime.  Some of
the people that she's talked with brag; they're all flash - but it's the
ones who've been 'in the shit', as the saying goes, that really quicken her
blood.  Petty scuffles and skirmishes aren't what excite her.

   Armageddon.  World War.

   Raging against the machine of the enemy; that's what stirs her soul.

   Her body has never been strong enough to join that conflict, that one
single moment where the body and soul unite against a common enemy; truly
working in synchonicity.  She has always had issues with breathing, and as
she gets older, her joints seem to want to give out rather than work
properly.  She feels like an old soldier who has never had the chance to
fight, never engaged with a force that needed defeating; and she feels it
in her bones.  A quiet longing.  A sorrow of sorts.

   She sighs and stares at the map of the trainsystem on the wall across
from her.  The same old destinations, same 'places of interest'; although
very few hold any interest for her now.  This city feels dead for her, and
has for years now.  She feels grey and unaccomplished, although there are
many who would look at the fullness of her life and see her as having lived
in an exciting flash of everpresent light.  She can't see it, and hasn't
been able to feel much for what feels like a very long time.

   "Find joy in the simplicity of life, and there will be prosperity in
your soul." she remembers a voice from long ago; a reading told to her by a
good friend.

   At times, she's able to do just that; listening to a burbling creek as
the water gently buffets the stones in its path, listening to the trees
creak as they sway gently in the summer night.  The pleasure gained from a
wild animal brave enough to creep up and touch her shoe, to take food from
her hand.  There is majesty in this also, but she wants so much more.

   There is a dark part of her that wants to be let out, to play among the
living; but she's well aware that if she ever released it, there'd be no
turning back.  And no taking it back.  It squats, waiting for the chance to
be free, waiting for the chance to truly run and live, but she keeps it
well chained - and thus her passion slowly dies.  There has been no release
for her inner passion for many years now, and with this quashing of need,
of desire, it's slowly twisting into something else.  Bitterness.  Anger.
Disgust.

   She hides the emotions well, but there are some who see; some who walk
on the other side of the street to avoid her, harmless as she may initially
appear.  And there are those who bow to her as well; the vagrants in the
alleyways.  As yellow streams of acrid urine trail down the walls, they
look at her and bow, still pissing.  They see her, when no-one else can.

   The train slows as it hits the next stop, and she watches several
passengers as they exit; their expressions tired and vague.  Do they feel
the same?  she wonders as the recorded voice echoes through the car,
stating that the doors are closing.

   She takes another deep breath, then starts at the sound of the doors
opening as a tall figure pushes his way into the car.  The doors close
behind him, and she rolls her eyes.  Some asshole's always gotta force it.
He can't just wait for the next train.  she mutters in her thoughts,
dismissing it as she goes back to looking at the railmap.

   She hears the thunk of shoes on the carpeted metal flooring as the
person makes their way towards her, and she wonders if this is the night;
if this is event that will change her life.  It never is, though.  She
looks over, out of the corner of her eye, and sees that the man; yeah, it's
most definitely a man, is still moving toward her side of the car.  He's
dressed like a stockbroker, black briefcase in hand.  She notices that he's
well groomed as she bows her head, looking over at him through hooded eyes
as he takes the seat across from her.  Self important prick, she muses. 
She knew the type.  Power brokers and go getters, so-called alpha males
that want to play in the shark tank of business, but if they'd ever had a
gun placed to their head they'd piss their pants in terror.  She smiles a
little secretive smile, feeling smug and self assured.

   He's what society in general would consider almost painfully attractive,
but his appearance repulses her.  Or - she wants it to.  Another should to
add to the long list of shoulds.  She looks away, anywhere but at him - at
this man who thinks he can walk where he wants and take what he wants
because he has money.  But then, if he had money, why is he on the Metro at
11 o'clock at night?

   She hears a chuckle, and she looks over to find him staring back at her,
a curious glint in his eyes.

   His cornflower blue eyes.

   He smiles at her then, warmly, and she quickly looks away again. 
Slowly, unable to stop herself, her eyes slide back to look at him, and she
gives him a sidelong glance.  His smile grows wider and he leans back into
his seat; confident and sure of himself.  He knows he's good looking and is
using it to fuck with me.  Her eyes narrow as she drops all pretense and
glares back at him.

   He's grinning now, and raising an eyebrow in silent query.

   "What?" she growls, angry that she'd broken the silence first.

   His voice is pleasant enough as he leans forward and quietly says, "You
think you've got me all figured out, don't you?"

   She grits her teeth, not liking that she's so transparent.  Not wanting
to admit it.

   He chuckles again, this time a little louder.  "It's not so easy,
placing labels on people, you know.  Yours nearly chokes out who you really
are entirely."

   At this, her eyes grow wide and she looks away from him, flushing.  Her
eyes again creep back to him, and he cocks his head a little as he catches
her gaze.

   "Tell you what," he offers, slowly pulling his steel grey tie down and
away from his neck and unbuttoning the first button of his starched white
shirt.  "I'll drop mine if you drop yours."

   Her tongue quickly flickers out to moisten her lips, her pulse
quickening as she clutches her backpack tighter.  There's definitely
something different about him, but she can't quite put her finger on it.

   The train begins slowing for another stop, and her breath catches.  She
looks at the sign outside, seeing that the next train will be ten minutes
behind this one.

   The man leans forward, his voice growing low as he murmurs, "Think of it
as going through the Looking Glass.  You'll never know until you take that
first step."

   She looks back at him, shocked, and his smile hold something else behind
his eyes now as he holds a hand out to her.  She remembers a chilling line
from one of her favorite faerietales as she looks back at his hand,
trembling now.

   Be bold, be bold But not too bold Or else your life's blood might run
cold.

   Something momentous was just around the corner, she could feel it in her
blood.  She could either run from it, and her fears about herself and her
own personal bullshit, or she could take that step forward and grasp his
hand, hoping that it would lead her somewhere that would take the grey
away.

   She takes a quick, deep breath in; forcing it out as her hand darts out
and slaps into his.

   He presents her with a dazzling smile, his blue eyes dancing as he
breathes, "And thus it begins."

   -

   The world warped around her, and she felt a vague pressure in her head,
a disorientation that lasted for just a moment before a warm liquid THUMP
rippled through the air, setting her senses tingling.  She had a moment to
notice that her legs didn't ache anymore before she realized that the train
was gone.  She was now standing with him in what looked like a moonlit
arboretum.  She blinked rapidly, pulling her hand away from him and looking
at it, checking it over to make sure that it was still attached.  There was
a strong tingling sensation in her fingers that was slowly dying down, and
she clutched her hand into a brief fist several times.  Her breath was
coming in hitches and she realized that she was now having a full blown
panic attack; hyperventilation, dizziness, heart hammering as if it
intended to batter its way out of her chest - the works.

   "Shit." she heard the man exclaim as he quickly opened his briefcase,
pulling out a paper bag and helping her hold it over her mouth.  She looked
up at him with wild eyes as she struggled to breathe slowly, in and out, in
and out.  She felt an arm wrap around her and she leaned into him, her
knees suddenly buckling.  The fearful tears that always came during these
attacks trailed down her face, and she blinked to get them out of her eyes
so that she could see.  He was looking down at her, his expression
concerned as he held her.

   "Breathe.  It's ok.  Just relax." The sound of his voice was smooth,
soothing.  Her breathing slowly became more regular as she looked around.
It was beautiful.  Dirt paths wound through thick underbrush, and she could
hear the sounds of strange birds calling to each other.  Lanterns lit the
way, throwing a flickering golden glow over everything, and she began to
laugh a little as she realized that it was hot and moist again.  One
climate changed for another, both almost exactly the same.  She couldn't
escape it.

   He took the bag from her lips, and grinned.  "Sorry about that.  I keep
forgetting that Wights aren't used to the trip."

   She frowned back at him, asking, "Whites?  Do you mean caucasians?"

   He shook his head, chuckling as he helped her to her feet.  "Wights
are..well, it's a really old word for human."

   She let out a weak laugh and wobbled on her feet.  "What, are you saying
that you're not human?"

   He pulled his tie off, undoing the knot and smoothing it out before
placing it into his briefcase.  "Bing.  Got it in one."

   She gaped at him, then began laughing.  "Alrighty then.  Good thing to
know up front."

   He could hear the disbelief in her voice as he began unbuttoning his
shirt.  "Suit yourself.  Think what you like." He smiled as he pulled his
suit jacket off, folding it neatly before depositing it inside.

   She took a step back as he pulled the starched shirt out of his pants
and began stripping out of it, revealing a very nicely muscled torso that
was covered with strange symbols in black ink.

   "What in the world are you doing?"

   He folded the shirt up, raising an eyebrow and murmuring, "Well, I'dve
thought that was obvious."

   She clutched her backpack in front of her, taking another step back. 
Sure, he was cute, but she was hardly ready to jump into sex with a strange
man that she'd just met on the Metro.  The wierdness of suddenly being
teleported to somewhere else - instantly, she could handle, but something
this casually sexual?

   For some reason, that was a stretch.

   She watched him shuck his shoes off and unbutton his pants, and she
quickly turned around before he pushed them down around his ankles.  She
trembled as she waited for him to finish, hoping desperately that he'd end
up putting something else on.

   "I wouldn't have pegged you as being particularly shy." he said as he
placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

   She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into the backpack, not wanting
to give up her control over the situation, even though it had gone far
beyond that by now.  She was standing in an entirely alien environment, not
at all aware of where she was, but for some reason the illusion of having
some kind - any kind - of control was reassuring.

   He gently spun her around, and murmured, "What are you so afraid of?"

   She slowly opened her eyes, startled to find him so close.  His entire
appearance had changed, his eyes glittering and his inky black hair falling
over his brow in sharp points.  He smiled and let his hand drop, taking a
step away from her so that she could look at him.  He had a good, solid
face; but now that she had a chance to truly look at him, he looked far too
attractive to be straight.  Full lips, high cheekbones; everything about
his face was almost overly sensual.  Her eyes widened as she spotted the
large black wings that stretched over his head.

   "What are you?" she asked as she gently placed her backpack on the
floor. Her gaze trailed down his body, and she was relieved to see that he
was now wearing a black kilt with what looked like a pair of beaten up
combat boots.

   His wings gently flapped twice before retracting and settling against
his back, and the air suddenly had a sharp, spicy tang to it that set her
senses tingling.

   "I am one of the Rephaim.  One of the last of my kind." He stepped
towards her slowly as her eyes flickered over the multiple designs all over
his body.

   "Not everything, or everyone, is as they seem." he breathed as he
stepped up to her, heat flickering in the depths of his blue eyes.  "You
cannot force people into categories, then become irritated when they do the
same to you."

   She felt a flush creep into her face and she opened her mouth to reply,
annoyed now.  He stepped forward and let his fingers trail down her
jawline, startling her into silence again.  "I'm not saying this to shame
you.  It's just the way it is."

   She felt warmth trail along her skin where his fingers touched, almost a
fluttering.  Her voice cracked as she asked, "What are you doing?"

   He smiled and ran his thumb gently along her lower lip, his voice a
sensuous purr as he replied, "You're not too good at the obvious, are you?"
He leaned in and kissed her, his lips gently brushing against hers.  She
stiffened, then shivered as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth.

   He slowly pulled away, smiling - and she felt her heart hammer in her
chest as his fingers brushed lightly against her throat, sliding down to
trail along the line of her blouse.  "I d-don't.." she stammered and he
slid a hand up into her hair, gently squeezing.

   "You don't?" he asked, leaning in and letting his lips brush against the
skin at her collar bone, pulling her blouse over her shoulder and following
it with feather-light kisses.

   Come to think of it, what exactly was it that she didn't do again?  When
was the last time she'd found herself in this kind of situation?  She'd be
damned if she could remember.  She usually wanted to wait until there was a
possibility of a relationship before coming anywhere close to this kind of
intimate contact.  He was pulling feelings and sensations from her that she
couldn't remember having before.  Again, she could either choose to run
away from it and wonder what might have happened, or just go with it and
see where it lead.  Such things had never really been easy with her, and
she struggled with this while she tried to figure out what she wanted to
do.

   She let out a disappointed sigh as she felt him pull away and look back
at her, his expression amused.  "You're thinking too much."

   "I do that." she murmured, shivering and not wanting him to stop.

   "Then stop." he replied, his expression matter-of-fact.

   She looked back at him, puzzled.  All the heat seemed to have left his
eyes, and he was simply looking back at her now.  She blinked, unsure of
what to say.

   "Let's put it another way.  What, in this moment, do you want?" he
asked, his lips quirking in a grin as he added, "The truth."

   She looked away from him, not certain if she could say what she truly
wanted while looking at him.  Her voice sounded small and quiet as she
replied, "Passion.  Fire." her voice trembled as she looked back at him. 
"I want to burn.  To feel."

   His eyes danced then, and she could hear the heat in his voice now as he
slid his hands over her hips and pulled her close.  "Let's see what we can
do about that, then."

   She cried out as he pressed against her, his mouth hovering over hers,
but not quite touching.  She could feel him grinning as he quickly kissed
the corner of her mouth.  He slowly moved to the hollow just under her ear
and breathed, "I'll make you burn, lovely.  But you'll have to beg me to
bring you release."

   She could feel the well contained control in his momements as his
fingers slowly slid up her hips, pulling her shirt out of her pants.  She
responded with a fire of her own that startled her.

   "Tease me, but damn well carry through or I'll kill you."

   He smiled against her neck, chuckling softly as his tongue flicked out
to taste her.  She shuddered as one of his hands crept under her blouse,
giving her ribcage a gentle squeeze as he pulled away and said, "Take it
off."

   Her fingers trembled as she tried to undo the buttons, and he clasped
her hands in his and breathed, "This is going to happen.  It doesn't matter
how long it takes.  Relax.  Breathe easy."

   She fought to control her breathing, which she had just now realized was
verging on hyperventilation again.  He gently stroked her knuckles, his
voice soft as he brushed his lips against her cheek, asking, "How long has
it been since you last felt the touch of a man's hands?"

   Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she felt herself relaxing slowly. 
"Years." she answered, her eyes snapping back open to look at him.

   He gently took her hands away from her blouse, and began undoing the
buttons himself.  "There is a brazen spirit in you, but it's gone cold and
uncertain after so many years of disuse."

   She gave a weak laugh as he slipped the blouse off her shoulders,
folding it up and turning to place it in the suitcase behind him.  "What
are you doing?" she asked, and he looked back at her, grinning.

   "Taking your mask from you." he replied, kneeling in front of her now.
His wings flared out so that the tips didn't touch the ground as his hands
slowly trailed up her legs.  "Bringing your phoenix out."

   She trembled as his thumbs slid along the seams of the pants along her
inner thighs.  As his thumbs met, he pressed them into her and an electric
jolt ran through her, drawing a hiss from her lips as he purred, "I see
you."

   He gently trailed the crook of a finger along the seam in her crotch,
and she delighted in the sensation as he cupped her with his hand.  Even
with the fabric between them, his hands were hot and clever, and she cried
out, fisting her hands at her sides.

   She watched his fingers creep up to her zipper, his eyes sparking with a
deep intensity as he slowly drew it down.  He slowly, langorously slid her
pants down her legs, trailing his hands down to her ankles, letting her
step out of them.  He slowly slid his hands back up her body as he stood,
moving them around to her lower back and pressing into her.  She was still
reacting at this point, making no move to touch him of her own volition. 
He smiled and reached up to tweak her nipple, gently tugging on it as she
sighed.  He flicked the hooks on her bra open with his other hand, and he
gently pulled the cotton away from her skin, pinching harder this time as
he covered her mouth with his.

   She felt something inside her snap, and she met his kiss with furious
abandon.  He smiled and hefted her in his arms, her legs automatically
wrapping around his waist.  His mouth pulled a part of her that had been
too long dormant to the surface and she growled, nipping at his lip.  She
felt his fingers tighten against her ass in response as he held her up, his
other hand tightening in her hair.

   Oh my god.  She'd never felt anything like this.  It was as if her
entire body had roared to life in a blaze that threatened to consume her.

   "Please.." he heard her whisper, and he exhulted - triumphant.

   "Please what?" he asked, his tone light and teasing.

   She felt the fabric of his kilt between them and her voice became husky
as she demanded, "Take it off.  Fuck me."

   He chuckled and slid two fingers along her slickness, feeling her breath
hitch.  "What, so soon?"

   "Yes, yes, yes." she whispered, her breath hot on his neck.

   She moaned as she felt his fingers slide into her, gently probing. 
"Now, now.  That's not proper begging." he purred, moving his other hand
down to hold her up while he slid a slick finger over her clit.  She rocked
back in his arms and let out an unintelligible cry as his clever fingers
worked against her, sending shivers of ecstacy through her.

   She felt his lips on her breast and she clawed at his shoulders,
hissing. He smiled against her skin, pleased with her response.  He leaned
into her, whispering into her hair, "Do you now burn?"

   She wet her lips with her tongue, biting down on her lower lip.  Close -
she was so close.  "Yes!" she cried out, her voice dropping to a husky purr
as she brought her lips to his ear and replied, "I burn.  God, I burn."

   He felt her tipping closer to the edge and slid his finger off her clit,
thrusting it back into her slickness.

   "NO!" she yelled, frustrated now.  "Don't stop, don't stop."

   She felt him heft her higher for a moment, then she felt him slide her
back down, pressing into her, hot and thick.  He took his time, watching
her eyes flutter shut as he slid inside her, savoring the feeling.  Did she
realize how tight she was?  He felt his breath catch in his throat as he
filled her, his hips now pressed firmly against her ass.  She rocked her
head back and shuddered as he quickly pulled out, then slammed back inside
her.  His wings began to curl around his shoulders as he paced himself,
wanting to draw the sensation out for her.

   Spiralling closer to the white hot light of release, she clutched at
him, biting into his shoulder as he pushed her closer.  Something changed,
and the sensation became a little too intense.  She'd been with other
people in the past, and had always instinctively scrabbled away from them
because the sensation became too much.  She'd always fled from mind
shattering orgasms before, not wanting to be blown apart by them - and
she'd always ended up somewhat disappointed.  Something about it scared the
hell out of her, but she didn't realize it until now.  He bore down on her,
forcing her to ride it, his tone hungry and vicious as he growled, "No -
this time you'll take it.  This time you'll come, whether you like it or
not."

   It started to hurt now, and she tried to push away from him, but he just
held her tighter, his breath heavy with exhertion.  She started getting a
little scared and the tone of his voice changed, becoming softer now. 
"Ride it to the end.  Trust me."

   She shivered at the sound of his voice, and suddenly the feeling changed
- no longer painful.  There was a moment where she could almost feel the
wave as it began to roll through her, and she screamed out as it finally
crashed through her synapses, sending the fire she'd so desperately needed
flooding through her body; burning away the grey.  Her body was instantly
dripping with sweat as he quickly followed, clutching at her and crying out
as he stiffened beneath her, his wings wrapping around their bodies. 
Another loud liquid THUMP resonated in the air, and she felt it go through
her soul.

   The last of the flickers of fire curled through her body, and she opened
her eyes, startled to find herself back on the train.  The man was seated
next to her now, back in his business suit, his briefcase on the floor next
to him.  She looked down to find him holding her hand, and felt him squeeze
it gently.

   "Better?" he asked.

   She looked up to see his eyes dancing, his face still somewhat flushed.

   She blinked, then grinned, blushing furiously.

   "Better." she replied, giving his hand an answering squeeze.  "Come home
with me?" she asked, feeling bolder than she had in years.

   He presented her with a wicked smile and murmured, "I thought you'd
never ask."