157 Words: Jazz
by Alanna
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Music filled the air.  Jazz, perhaps.

His breathing picked up the tempo.  Hers joined in as his nails -- all sharp, jagged edges --
broke her skin through the thin shirt's barrier.

The music wasn't cohesive, nor was she, flying apart at his touch.  He was already shattered
-- assymetrical and torn.  A fake arm would be too real in this moment when her worst
enemy pressed her against a brick wall and tore her to pieces with feral teeth and
rabid passion.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.  I am fucking Krycek senseless, and good God I love it.

The humid night-haze made the scene unreal. Green eyes flashed lust as he inhaled her
silk shirt.  She tugged at their clothes before sinking down on him with the force of a
sax hitting low e-flat. 

The far-off singer's voice became a siren wail as the not-quite-lovers climaxed.

The club's patrons applauded.  Scully laughed and caught her breath.

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End (1/1)

Word has weird counting methods -- if this is technically NOT 157 words, well, I did my best.

al

+++++alanna++++
http://alanna.net
"You have a deathwish.  How selfish.  I have one too,
but I direct it toward others."
               --"The Opposite of Sex"