RSA Main Fiction by Title Fiction by Author Fiction by Partners Slash Subplots Familiar Faces Links

Peaches n' Cream

Reply to Trinity

Added to the Roswell Slash Archive August 16, 2001

Title: Peaches 'N Cream
By: Trinity
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Tess/Isabel
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I do not own these characters nor Roswell.
Summary: Isabel visits Tess's subconscious and finds love, happiness, and home all rolled into one.
Author's Notes: J - Your praise makes me blush. Thank you. I - Your enthusiasm kept me going. Thank you, too.

        She saw her lover the moment she entered the dream, as usual, and started at the tears on her pale cheeks. A million questions came to mind - why, who, how? - before she registered the checkered planet and the basket and the crystal.

        "Hey," she whispered, sneaking up on her companion and wrapping her arms around her small frame. "What's wrong?"

        Turning her head to look her in the eye, Tess forced her features into a smile. "Nothing," she whispered, laying a soft kiss on softer lips. "I'm fine."

        Isabel shook her head and half-smiled, returning the kiss and gently wiping away a streak of salt from Tess's cheek. "Maybe other people buy that routine, but not me," she told Tess, staring her in the eye. Looking past the blue and through to the heart.

        "Oh, Isabel," the tiny blonde sighed, burying her face in Isabel's shoulder. "I miss you," she mummered between desperate kisses. "I miss - "

        Grabbing Tess's hand, Isabel clucked her tongue. "Don't start, Tess," she ordered, more harshly than she'd intended. The other girl sniffed and pouted for a moment before Isabel gave in. "I miss you, too. But... look around, Tess. Look at where you are."

        Tess obliged, rotating her head around in a ninety-degree angle. Isabel noted a lingering hint of sadness in Tess's eyes even as she smiled at the scenery and breathed in the air, but forgot it as a mischievous look covered her face. "Look at where we both are... alone and half-naked in a field with a picnic basket filled with honey."

* * *

        Her favorite scent had always been peach. The day she met them, the three that were to complete the foursquare, she dabbed a bit of peach hand lotion behind each ear. The night Isabel had first appeared in her dream, she had been in her favorite field, with peach trees all around and the scent of peaches everywhere.

        Isabel had originally intended to chew her out. To scream at her and to blame her for Alex's death and to find out what was going on in her insane little mind. But the shock of the beauty had overwhelmed her and struck her speechless, and Tess hadn't dared to break the silence.

        "It's so... is this home?" Isabel had finally whispered. And a tiny part of Tess, the part that had invented the dreams in the first place, the part that cried for hours after Alex's collapse, the part that wished Jim had reacted more favorably to calling him Dad, quivered. And lied. And nodded.

* * *

        Rolling over on her back, Isabel smiled. "You called me Bella again," she informed Tess. "And I think it's growing on me," she added as she raised a hand to block out the strong sun. Instantly, as if Tess had been trying, the sun's intensity lowered.

        Tess grinned and stuck her tongue out at Isabel. "And after the twenty minutes you wasted lecturing me about that last time!" she groused, somehow speaking clearly without putting it back in her mouth.

        "Oops," Isabel shrugged. "That'll show me," she laughed, and then began giggling as Tess leaned forward and applied her tongue to smooth skin. "Tickles!" she exclaimed, reverting to verb-less speak in her amusement.

        Tess's tongue traveled around Isabel's smooth stomach, darting in and out of her belly button. "I have an outie, you know," she commented blithely, making Isabel wonder how her words were so easy to understand while her mouth was otherwise occupied.

        Raising an eyebrow, Isabel laid her legs out straight in front of her, hoping to fine-tune her tan in the Tess-created sun. "An outie?" she asked. "Is that what it's called?"

        It was Tess's turn to giggle. "What what's called?" she laughed. "My belly button?"

        "No," Isabel nodded, mock serious now. "That weird thing sticking out from your belly button," she replied, prompting her lover to reach over for the pitcher of lemonade that Isabel hadn't known existed until now, and quick as a flash, dump it all over the licked-clean skin below her breasts. "You never had a problem with that weird thing before!" Tess shouted, speedily gulping down the remains of the pitcher and then leaning over to catch Isabel's lips in mid-shriek. Isabel felt all over her indignation over the magically non-sticky lemonade disappear as she fell into the kiss.

* * *

        For all of her whining over what Tess calls her, Isabel has never mentioned the words she has screamed out during her orgasms. She wonders if the tall blonde is even aware of her yells, or whether Isabel thinks she's silent during her moment of falling.

        Tess knew that the moment she nodded her head, told her that the grassy knoll was Antar, Isabel fully regretted not returning. From that moment, Isabel was hooked. And at that moment, the "Home," Isabel whispered was laced with reverence that told her Isabel would return to her dreams each night, forever.

        She longed at first to hear Isabel scream out her name. She longs still but the hope has gone. She knows when her lover wraps her arms around her body and brushes her tongue over her moist passage that it is not Tess whom Isabel is making love to. She knows this from the glow in her eyes when she arrives in the dreams and she knows from the "Home! Home!" that rings in her ears each time Isabel comes.

* * *

        "Why were you crying?" Isabel wondered, folding her knees into her arms and tearing her eyes away from the thousands of stars that were her favorite part of the landscape. She spoke quietly, but she knew Tess would hear her - Tess always did.

        Tess just smiled, a whisper of a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and shook her head. "See that star?" she pointed, and Isabel followed her glance to a glimmer that was marginally brighter than those around it. "I like to think of that star as the Milky Way's sun."

        Leaning her head down on Tess's bare shoulder, Isabel smiled, feeling content despite the smaller girl's avoidance of her question. "So that's me?" she wondered. "I'm all the way over there, and yet, I'm here."

        "Trippy, huh?" Tess chuckled. "Your body is so far away, but I'm here, feeling you and touching you. I..." she began, and then trailed off.

        Isabel shifted position so she was looking Tess in the eye. She could tell from her tone that she was serious, that whatever she was about to say meant something. And suddenly she wanted to hear more than she wanted to breathe.

        Tess swallowed visibly before speaking, and when she finally did complete her thought, it was with a shaky tone in her voice. "I was always jealous of your abilities. Dreamwalking. I wished so many times that I could visit your dreams - yours and Max's and Michael's. Just to know what you thought of me, know the real truth."

        "But you can do so much with yours. You can control things. You have so much power," Isabel argued, furrowing her brow. "I couldn't do anything. I just saw things."

        Sighing, Tess closed her eyes. "I did horrible things. You, you saw feelings and thoughts. You know my dreams. You know everyone's dreams," she said in a hollow voice.

        Isabel wished she'd never heard this, never started the conversation about powers. Not only didn't she want a fight on who had better advantages, but she didn't want to be reminded of what Tess could do. What Tess had done.

* * *

        She alluded to it often, and somehow reveled in the look of pain that crossed Isabel's face. Through that look, she saw into Isabel's soul, and knew. Knew the pains she'd caused - pain she regretted, yes, but a sign that she'd left some effect on Isabel's world. On Earth.

        Tess had never explained away her sins to Isabel and Isabel had never asked. She sometimes suspected Isabel was afraid - afraid that if she heard the hard truth, then all possible excuses she'd created in her mind would be gone. That if she knew for sure Tess had killed Alex out of malice, any possibility of an explanation would be gone. And then maybe Isabel would have to feel guilty for loving her and loving home.

        For by this point Tess was fairly sure that in Isabel's mind, the two were intertwined. That when Isabel said, "I love you," she also meant, "I love home," and when Isabel screamed, "Home!" she also meant, "Tess." Tess was home. And Tess equaled home. And Isabel wanted both.

* * *

        Isabel lolled her head back, pointing her face upward as it baked in the warm sun. Time always passed so quickly in Tess's dreams and it was midday again. "That feels good," she moaned. "More."

        "You want more, you have to pay the toll," Tess whispered huskily, mouth moving from Isabel's nipple to her stomach.

        Shaking her head, Isabel frowned. "What toll?" she asked, impatient. Eager for more in a way she wasn't used to.

        Tess just laughed, by now used to Isabel's frequent mood changes. Her tongue drifted slowly downward, spiraling and twisting, teasing. She paused only a second to speak. "Tell me what you regret," she ordered. "Tell me who you love."

        "You," Isabel shouted. "You," she repeated, this time so softly she could barely hear herself. "You. You. I love you. I love you. You."

        Her lover's tongue finally grazed the sensitive skin, darting between already wet folds in a pattern unknown to her. "You," Isabel kept chanting, voice lowering and lowering until it was fairly a moan in itself.

        "Me," Tess chimed in, and Isabel wasn't sure if it was with her mouth or with her mind Tess was speaking. She hardly cared. 'You, me.' The two words blended together in Isabel's ears until she was no longer aware who was speaking.

        She had lost all control of her senses except that of touch; she reached with her mind, grasping at the sounds and the smells and feeling them. 'You, me, peaches, you, trees, me, fields, you, peaches, me, home... home... home...'

        "Home!" she finally screamed, knees buckling. For a moment afterward she and Tess were both silent, gasping deeply for air, recovering.

        Finally Tess turned to her and for the first time since she'd entered her dream, a full smile was evident on her face. "Thank you," she whispered. "I love you."

        Isabel closed her eyes. "I love you," she breathed. And in her mind, only Tess existed. Tess, and the checkered blanket they picnicked on, and home.

* * *

        Isabel came to her because she had tempted her with the idea of paradise. Tess gave her something Max couldn't, Michael couldn't, Alex couldn't, that new guy she was seeing couldn't. She gave her the fantasy... a fantasy they both shared.

        She knew that one-day Isabel would find out the truth, that this world was a figment of her imagination and all the betrayal she had felt over Alex's death and Nesedo's deal would be overshadowed by the hurt she would feel by this one. She wouldn't come again, wouldn't allow herself to be seduced by false hope and false love.

        Tess had promised herself two things. Promised herself that when Isabel discovered the truth, Tess would let her lover hate her. Let her have an overcoming feeling of hatred instead of being torn. She would tell Isabel she'd fucked her over and fucked her body, that the moments they had shared had been as fake as Max's son, that it had all been an excuse to have some fun.

        She never had to know that in reality, Tess was huddled in a corner, a bulge in her stomach coursing pain through her body. She would never know about the scars or the beatings or the real reason for the tears Tess shed in her dreams.

        Isabel gave her love, and pleasure, and a connection to a truer home than Antar. The least Tess could give her was hatred and some leftover hope for a home that smelled like peaches.

Send comments to the author

Return to Top