BY: THE BEVSTER
CODES: STNG, P/Cish but indirectly, 1/1
RATING: PG-13
ARCHIVE:  Sure, if you like, but keep my name attached.
FEEDBACK:  [email protected]

Author's Note:  That tramp of a muse has finally returned to me.  But I
will let her roam free to tease and assist others at will.  And just for
the record: NO, I don't read Harlequin romances.  Heheehehehehehe

Summary:  More POVs from the others in P & C's lives.

THE JOURNAL

She used to tell me all.  Everything.  Every single torrid detail.  It
mattered not that these were only her fantasies, her wishes and dreams,
her desires.  These were part of her soul.  She ached for the moment
when he would hold her close, gently explore her mouth with his sweet
kisses and slowly push her back on the bed.  She dreamed of the day he
would place his hand on her heaving breast and caress it with his
burning touch.  She fantasized about his throbbing need for her, his
passion to take her in an ardent embrace, to make love to her until
their limbs were liquid from muscles overstrained by the physical proof
of mutual adoration.

She would shed a tear now and then for the despair of her life without
him.  Feeling her need for him pulsing through her unsated body night
after night, she yearned to touch him, to undress him, to feel his need
for her, satisfy her own desires in a mad, frenzied, abandoned tangle of
legs, arms, lips and bodies.

She would peruse her grandmother's journals often and her need would
become overwhelming.  She would let my fellow journal fall to the floor
in a heap to satisfy her own yearning to be touched, even if it was only
by her own hands and the artificial love devices in her nightstand.  She
would cry out her obsession for his hands to replace her own, for his
manhood to touch her as deeply as she required, for his lust to sate her
need for the itch she could not scratch with electronic fingers.

She would pour out her love-deprived heart to me.  I was devastated by
her desperation.  But what could I do?  How could I help her?  How could
I bring them together?  It was impossible.  I was but a humble book, a
volume of paper, binding and glue, an ear ready to listen to her tales
of woe, but I could do nothing to assuage the grief in her heart aching
for the man she loved.  Or could I?

Ah, that night!  That glorious night when she left me on her desk.  That
night I discovered that the computer terminal could be my friend and
ally.  The night that we filled the chasm in her soul.  We considered,
discussed, planned and finally executed the scheme to fulfill her heart
with all she desired.

I dictated, the computer transcribed her wishes, her thoughts, her
innermost secret dreams.  It transmitted the document to her beloved and
we waited.  Waited for the moment he would burst through the door, take
her in his arms and make mad, passionate love to her.

We were patient, and at last our deeds were rewarded with his presence
in her chamber.  Their lust was so great it threw me to the carpet as
their unbridled passions overtook good sense and they came together as
one soul on the floor near the desk.

 We watched in delight as he held her, kissed her, told her of his love
and she expressed her yearning for him.  His hands found her clothing
irritating and removed it.  Hers did the same with his uniform.  Their
lips burned paths of glory along each others skin to embrace the most
sensitive places on their bodies.  Their hands teased and roamed over
every inch of flesh.  Their voices cried out their joy.  His desire grew
apace, her aching need pushed her further into frenzy.  One could almost
feel the floor throbbing with their hunger to be one.  He pushed her
gently to the floor, caressed her with lips and hands, complimented her
beauty and lowered himself to join with her in love and longing to unite
their souls for eternity.

She cried out his name in passion, he joined her in mutual abandonment
of all coherent thought as they thrust against one another to reach that
peak of ecstasy they both craved.  Finally, at long last, the glorious
brink of rapture was breached and their lust replete for now.

Her smile cannot be described in words.  His love cannot be explained.
They are as one.  She is fulfilled.  They lose no moment to idleness
when they are together.  They seek each others company frequently now.
They care not where or when, as long as they are together and joined,
they are in heaven itself.

I have heard, from various sources, that perhaps they are too ardent for
each other.  Their activities perhaps a bit too boisterous or exuberant.
 Their choice of forum not discreet enough.  I disagree.  Theirs is the
universe.  Wherever they choose to be one, it is right!  Love conquers
all and should suffer not limitations of space or time.

To those who criticize I say "follow your own path and do not impede
theirs."

Alas, because we were so successful in our matchmaking, the computer
terminal and I are now a bit lonely for her.  She has no time to share
her experiences with us now, but we begrudge her nothing.  She is happy,
fulfilled, satisfied, and her love is returned by the only man she
desires.

We are content to wait.

<blissful sigh>

The End