Game Chapter 11

The Game #11

Edited by Karen Leigh

"So, you are not interested in experimenting with another guy or just this particular guy?" Leigh batted his eyelashes at Michael who found himself reacting in exactly the same way women did when he himself used that particular seduction weapon in his arsenal.

"Yeah, it has to do with the fact we're both guys. But.." Michael trailed off, ending with a sigh. "You wouldn't believe me."

Leigh laughed softly and reached over and caressed Michael's face. "Michael, I almost died a year ago when I detonated a bomb in an attempt to kill a very large alien. The kind of alien you only see in the movies. I'm talking huge and smelly and terrifying. I felt it's breath, it's grip on my leg. There is nothing you can tell me that I wouldn't believe. Hey, if we hadn't seen it with our own eyes would we believe a report of what we have seen over the last two days?"

Michael nervously giggled. "Yeah, you're right. It has been a bit spooky."

Baines sat up and stuffed a couple pillows behind his back and reached for Michael and maneuvered their bodies until Michael was lying with his back on Leigh's chest. He allowed this because they were both still fully dressed.

"Now tell me." Leigh whispered softly into Michael's ear.

"It was about five years ago. I was at a club. I was talking on my cell phone at the bar when someonetouched me. I brushed her off. She wasn't that pretty, normally I wouldn't have even given her a second glance. She didn't give up just moved around me and touched me again. There was somethingher touch was" Michael stopped speaking, remembering.

Baines wrapped his arms around Michael tighter and said, "Go on."

"It was like I was high but I hadn't even finished my first drink. We headed to my car and she was all over me. I hadn't rounded first base when, we were interrupted by a cop. She got out of the car and all of a sudden I had this pain in my chest and I couldn't breathe. I was coughing. It felt like my chest was being crushed. The cop was looking at me and ordering me to get out of the car when she punched him in the jaw. The cop went down and she hit him again. Only it wasn't a she anymore. She looked like a he. Same clothes but bigger and male." Michael swallowed hard.

Baines rubbed his chest gently but said nothing.

Michael felt comforted and continued, "Next thing I knew I was in a hospital bed, trying to explain what happened to the police without telling them what really happened. Two F.B.I. agents turned up and." he paused, "there was something about the male agent, the way he asked the questions as if he knew what the answers were and he would believe me. I told him what I saw off the record. It was a relief to say it out loud, especially when he didn't scoff or laugh. He believed me."

"Sounds like Mulder to me," said Baines.

"Mulder? The name sounds familiar but I was so embarrassed at the time talking about it that I don't really remember. They told me I was lucky to be alive. Anyway, after that every time I went to a club and met a woman I found attractive I would wonder if she were really a he. I mean, I grew up thinking I was straight, no question. But ever since then I have been questioning. I've practically been a monk all this time. So you can imagine the state of my libido." Michael felt Leigh chuckle and laughed with him.

"Am I causing you to question yourself even more?" Leigh's hot breath fanned Michael's ear.

"Yeah, you're part of my confusion. I was starting to think I had my head on straight when it came to my sexuality. That's part of why I was going to that bar. My friends were going to help me stop being a hermit. But you grabbed me and I've seen and heard so many strange things and been carried along from pillar to post and ended up here in bed with you. I just don't know what to do or think anymore."

"So don't think for a little while and tell me what you feel. Does it feel good my holding you like this?"

"Yes."

"Did it feel good when I kissed you?"

"Yes."

"Do you trust me not to hurt you in any way?"

"Yes."

"Okay, listen carefully. A large percentage of straight guys test the waters on the other side at least once in their life. With your looks you probably had to beat the women off with a stick and had more action that you could handle so never found yourself horny and willing to try a guy. I, on the other hand, have spent most of my life in the service where women are in short supply so I am happy with both genders. As I said earlier, there must be something pheromonal that is drawing the clones to each other; that is probably adding to your confusion. I want you and I guess I have been obvious about it and I can tell that it's making you nervous. I am not going to push you. If it was just sex I wanted there are rooms full of warm willing bodies in this house but I want you. I'm going to leave us in your hands. You do what you want, what you feel comfortable with. I will follow your lead."

They were both silent for a long time. Leigh held Michael loosely and did not move a muscle. Slowly Michael turned and rolled onto his side and lifted his face to Leigh's and brushed his lips softly across those of his double.

Leigh held his breath. Could this mean Michael was ready? Gods, this was going to test his self-control to the limits. He wanted Michael. Wanted him badly. But, Leigh was afraid his urgent need would scare the kid off. With a sigh, he lifted his hand to caress Michael's cheek. "We'll go at your pace, Michael. If you need to stop, let me know... I don't want to scare you."

Michael sighed, leaning into Baines' caress. He nodded and then leaned forward to kiss him again. This time he pressed his lips firmer against Leigh's.

Gently, Leigh nibbled at Michael's soft lips. His hand moved to wrap around Michaels's neck, pulling him a bit closer. He parted his lips and traced the outline of Michael's mouth with his tongue.

"Mmm," he hummed. "Very nice." His tongue pushed past Michael's lips, requesting admittance to that lovely mouth. "Let me in, Michael."

Michael froze, and then forced himself to relax. This wasn't going to be easy for him, Leigh's reassurances or no. Slowly he opened his mouth.

Baines, sensing Michael's hesitation, backed off and started tasting his way across the man's cheek.

"Michael, you taste so good," he whispered hotly. "Just let me hold you ...touch you. No demands. If I make you uncomfortable, just tell me. I'll stop." He buried his mouth in Michael's neck, licking and sucking. One hand moved to caress Michael's smooth chest, carefully staying above the waist.

God! It felt so good to be touched after abstaining so long. Michael relaxed further. Tentatively, he ran his hands over Leigh's shoulders, nuzzling against the top of Leigh's head.

"Ah, Michael," Leigh said softly, "that's it, lover. Touch me, your hands are so warm." Following the long line of Michael's neck, he laid a series of nibbling kisses as he moved further down. He zeroed in on one hardened nipple and teased it with his tongue and teeth.

Growing bolder, Michael stroked down Leigh's back, but stopped at the small of his back before stroking back up.

Baines shivered under the touch and sighed happily. This was going well ...if he could only keep up the slow pace. If he could manage not to scare the kid half to death, he just might get laid. Carefully, he slipped one hand under Michael's t-shirt, anxious to feel that silky skin. "Is this okay?" he asked hesitantly. "I want to feel you."

Michael shivered, partially out of fear, but mostly out of arousal. "Yeah," he breathed, still running his hands over Leigh's back.

Slowly, Baines lifted Michael's shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor haphazardly. "Damn," he breathed, "you're gorgeous." He dropped his head back to Michael's chest, gently teasing the erect nipple with his tongue, while he teased the other with thumb and forefinger.

Michael moaned, pushing up against Leigh. He started tugging at the other man's shirt.

"Keep doing that." Ah... the kid was losing his fear. Baines grinned and raised his torso so that Michael could pull his shirt off. Once their chests were bare, Baines pulled them together, moaning as the sheer ecstasy of skin against skin caused an almost painful hardening of his cock.

Michael shivered when he heard Baines moan. Not allowing himself time to think, he kissed Leigh full on the lips, clutching them tighter together.

Baines opened his mouth to Michael's kiss, reveling in the freedom to explore his mouth. His breathing grew heavier as he explored the sweet cavity. One hand wandered down slowly, stroking and caressing Michael's sensitive skin, until its' explorations were halted by the waistband of a heavy pair of jeans. He broke off the kiss and raised his head to meet Michael's slumberous eyes. Silently, he asked permission as his fingers toyed with the opening of Michael's jeans.

Michael returned Leigh stare, a hint of fear returning to his eyes. There would be no turning back after this. Everything Baines had done until now had felt wonderful. He didn't want to stop. Still holding Leigh's eyes, he nodded.

Leigh smiled. "Listen, don't get worried now. I promised that we'd only do what you're comfortable with and I meant it." He unsnapped Michael's jeans, pulling the zipper down slowly, teasingly. "I'll make this good for you. I'm gonna make you feel things you never dreamed of, Michael." Reaching into the opened jeans, Leigh gently wrapped his hand around Michael's erection.

"Oh, Michael," he murmured. "You're so hot, so hard ... let me show you how wonderful it can be."

Michael was panting now. Leigh's words sent tingles dancing along each nerve ending. Involuntarily, he bucked into Leigh's hand. "Please," he whispered hoarsely. One of his hands tentatively slid down Baines' back to rest on his ass.

Baines moaned low in his throat. Tightening his hold on Michael's erection, he pushed his own needy cock against Michael's hip. "Oh, god, " he said in a deep voice. "You feel so good, Michael ... so very good." He pushed at Michael's jeans, "let me ... "

Michael raised his hips, making it easier for Baines to peel his jeans off. He could feel Baines' cock pressing against him. Leigh felt hot and hard and large. Michael began panicking. What did Leigh plan to do with that erection? And would he be able to handle it?

Sensing Michael's renewed fear; Leigh shifted his groin away from Michael's side and ran a soothing hand over his chest.

"I promised, didn't I?" He said softly, looking into Michael's eyes. "Nothing you don't want ... can't handle. I know this is a first for you, Michael. I'm going to make you feel good, lover. Very," he moved closer, pressing his lips against Michael's, "very good."

"I know...but what are you... I mean, how... oh God..." He gave up trying to think and just kissed Baines, slipping his tongue into Leigh's mouth.

//Oh yeah//

Baines opened wide for Michael, sucking on his tongue with growing need. His hand on Michael's cock started a steady rhythm, keeping the touch just light enough that he wouldn't bring the other man over the edge too quickly. Oh no, not too quickly. There were so many things he wanted to show the younger man. Breaking the kiss with reluctance, Leigh started an extensive oral exploration of the quivering body below his. He moved slowly across the smooth expanse of chest, down to the navel.

Michael quivered under Baines' explorations. The touch of the Leigh's hand on his cock was heavenly. As long as he didn't think about what would happen next, he could deal with what Baines was doing.

Teasingly, Baines' mouth moved further south, nipping at Michael's hip bones, licking the crease where thigh met groin, all the while continuing his light stroking of the man's cock. He nuzzled the wiry hair that surrounded Michael's erection, gently pulling at the hair with his lips. Raising his head, he grinned up at Michael and blew a stream of warm air across the man's cock.

Michael gasped in surprised, squirming a bit. Unconsciously, he threaded a hand through Baines' hair, guiding it towards his cock.

//Yes, there we go//

All too willing to follow Michael's urging, Baines licked the base of his cock, then ran his tongue along the underside of the deliciously hard member. Parting his lips, he took the head into his mouth, savoring the gamy flavor of precum. Lovingly, he probed at the slit before lowering his mouth to swallow Michael's erection. Relaxing his throat, he took him deep.

Then he started humming. "Oh God!" Michael gasped. Nobody had done that to him before.

Baines smiled around his mouthful and started moving his mouth up and down. Every third or fourth time, he'd take Michael's cock into his throat. One hand cradled the heavy ball sac; the other moved up and lightly pinched a nipple.

What fun! A virtual virgin ... and so responsive!

Michael moaned and tightened his grip in Baines' hair. Vaguely worried that he might choke Baines, but unable to stop himself, Michael thrust into the hot, wet mouth.

Knowing Michael's uncertainties, Leigh simply encouraged him with soft moans and increased suction. If he could make this first time good for the kid, maybe later ...Ruthlessly suppressing his own need, Leigh concentrated on making this the best blowjob Michael had ever received. He swallowed around the hardness filling his throat and rolled Michael's balls in his hand.

Encouraged, Michael continued pushing into Leigh's mouth. All he could do was react to how wonderful it felt. He could feel a prickling build at the base of his spine and realized he wasn't going to be able to hold back for long.

Realizing that Michael was on the precipice, Leigh redoubled his efforts. He pulled back, scraping his teeth lightly along the length of his prize. With one finger, he stroked the sensitive skin of Michael's perineum, as he manipulated the man's hardened nipples with more force. The cock in his mouth swelled even more as Michael's balls drew up tight at the base of his cock.

Oh yeah ... not long now.

Baines swallowed him whole again and hummed.

Leigh's hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Michael tried to warn him that he was about to come, but he didn't seem to be able to do anything but gasp and thrust. The pressure was building and he was almost there...

Michael gasped and stiffened as the spasms of his orgasm began. Leigh swallowed eagerly ... Jesus; he loved the feeling of power he always got when bringing a man to orgasm. He rode out the spasms, determined to swallow every drop of the man's offering.

Finally, reluctantly, he withdrew and smiled at his sated lover. "You okay, babe?"

Michael took a few deep breaths before answering. "Yeah," he sighed, blissed out. He reached out and stroked Leigh's face. "But that didn't do much for you."

Leigh smiled as he moved up to lie against Michael. He pressed a light kiss on soft lips and sighed.

"I'll be okay, Michael," he said softly. "I don't want you to feel that you owe me anything - I enjoyed the hell out of that!" He grinned wickedly. "Of course ... if you want to - ah, play with me a bit, I sure won't argue."

Michael just looked at Leigh and then got up off the bed and stripped off his jeans. He stood looking at Leigh, this man that had just given him the best blowjob of his life. This man with his face. This man waiting for a response from him. Michael felt his nerve being tested and took a deep breath and said, "You are overdressed."

Squirming around on the bed Leigh quickly stripped and reached up for Michael.

The sensation of warm skin sliding over warm skin as they rubbed gently against each other was tantalizing. Michael tentatively slid a hand down between them and grasped Leigh's cock. He moved his fingers lightly over the solid heat slowly accepting that he wanted to do this. This was nothing to be frightened of. There was pleasure here. Pleasure in giving pleasure.

"Oh," Leigh sighed. "That's great, Michael." Holding still, not wanting to overwhelm the timid man, Leigh closed his eyes and consciously relaxed under the exploration. "Mmm," he murmured.

Growing bolder, Michael began stroking Leigh's cock. It didn't feel too different from jerking himself off. He thumbed the slit and jumped a bit when he felt Leigh surge beneath him.

Biting his lip, Baines took a deep breath. Damn, he was so horny at this point that he was afraid his reactions would scare Michael off. Gathering his self-control, he ran one hand over the other man's shoulder softly.

"Don't be afraid, Michael," he whispered. "I won't do anything but lie here, if that's what you want. Just ... don't stop. Please don't stop now."

Michael didn't stop, eyes wide he watched his hand move, he watched Baines' hips jerk, he felt Baines' hand tremble on his shoulder. He smiled.

"I'm close, Michael. So close. It's been way too long. Please don't stop."

The husky voice murmuring in his ear made Michael's chest feel tight with overwhelming emotion. He turned his head and looked at the beautiful face so close to his and leaned closer and kissed the man. That was all it took as Leigh moaned into his mouth and the cock in his hand grew larger and he felt it pulse over and over.

Leigh laid panting and smiling up into Michael's eyes. "Thank you, I needed that."

Michael giggled and looked down at the sticky mess on Leigh's chest. He ran his fingers through the white blobs finger-painting his name.

Leigh looked down the length of Michael's body and saw that his cock was rising again slowly. He pulled Michael into a kiss while sliding a hand slowly down the silky skin of Michael's hip. When his fingers touched Michael's cock it twitched and he smiled into the kiss. He wrapped both arms around Michael and just kissed and petted him.

They rested just kissing, nipping, sucking on each other until they were both hard and leaking again

Leigh sat up and pulled open a drawer in the bedside table and scrabbled around inside looking for condoms and lube. He found none. He waggled his eyebrows at Michael and said, "Did I ever tell you I used to be a boy scout," as he got off the bed and unbuttoned one of the pockets in his pants and pulled out the requisite lube and condoms and waved them at Michael.

He climbed back onto the bed looking down at a suddenly tense Michael whose cock had deflated.

Leigh smiled and leaned over and took Michael's cock in his mouth. He tore open the casing on the condom and laid the tiny circle on Michael's belly. Popping the top on the lubricant he squeezed a heavy dollop onto his fingers and Michael's eyes widened as Leigh slid his hand behind his own balls. By the time Leigh had oiled and opened himself, Michael was hard again. Leigh lifted his head and reached for the condom. He rolled it onto Michael and scooted forward holding the head until it was poised at the entrance to his body.

Michael moaned as the head of his cock nudged up against slick heat. Leigh wiggled a little and pushed down on the blunt head. "Push, Michael, push," he whispered. Michael held still for an endless moment and almost without thought his hips lifted and he drove the tip of his cock up into the tight opening.

Leigh's head went back and his eyes closed as he let his weight take him down onto Michael's cock until the muscle ring opened and the head slipped completely inside.

Michael groaned at the heat and pressure on his cock. Reaching for Leigh's hips, he pushed up into that heat as Leigh sank slowly down till his buttocks were cradled by Michael's hips. He leaned forward taking some of his weight on his hands and bounced lightly. Michael was lost as the entire length of his cock buried itself in Leigh's body. He looked up into the face of this lover. This male lover whose expression was so ecstatic that Michael wondered if it was really possible for it to feel that good for Leigh. Then Leigh began to move, and thought became impossible. He rocked forward, then back, fucking himself on Michael's cock. Michael followed the rhythm and in synch moved up as Leigh pushed back. As Leigh pushed down, he twisted his hips and shuddered. Thrusting into Leigh from below, Michael took hold of the hard cock bobbing over his belly and squeezed it tightly and released each time the force of Leigh's movement pushed it into his hand and moments later Leigh began to whine deep in his throat as his orgasm built. Michael watched as the semen began to spurt and then the contraction of the muscles surrounding his cock pulled his own climax from him. He thought he would faint as it went on and on cresting higher as Leigh ground himself down on him.

Leigh fell forward onto Michael sweating and gasping for breath. He achingly lifted and reached to hold the condom as Michael pulled his cock free. He straightened his legs and slid to one side. He pulled the condom off gently tied a knot in it before dropping it over the side of the bed. Michael used the sheet to swipe carelessly at the semen on his chest and Leigh's. Then he pulled Leigh into his arms and wrapped the blanket around them as they both slid into a doze.

Alexei and Sasha had stood staring into each other's eyes for the past hour or more listening to their master, owner, possession, human toy, soon to be decided what he was to them, as he and his mate came together. Sasha reached out and patted Alexei on the arm and they smiled at each other.

Alexei and Sasha stood communing silently between themselves. They had picked up information on Baines from the gossip going on in the house. They felt that if there were such a thing as karma it had brought them together with this particular clone. The 7000 series of Mac 27 were military ordinance. Programmed with military rules, ranks, weapon systems, communication codes. Parts of their bodies were weapons cache spaces. They could lock into communication systems, cell phones, Intel satellites. With the proper input they could move armies. Michael did not appear to have any military knowledge but as one of this particular series of clones he was educable. The sounds of the men waking up made the two androids smile at one another again.

Michael woke up, not certain where he was at first. He could feel another body wrapped around him, something he hadn't felt in a long time. Slowly he started remembering the events of last night. It had been years since he had been laid, and none of his previous sexual experiences had been nearly as intense.

He looked at Baines, whose eyes were still closed. Michael wondered if he looked as beautiful in sleep. He didn't think he did, and he didn't think he looked as gorgeous as Baines did when he was on top of Michael. Idly, he wondered if Leigh would be up to a repeat performance when he woke up. 'What am I thinking?' Michael frowned a bit. If anyone had told him 48 hours ago that he'd wake up naked next to a man after a bout of mind blowing sex, he would have laughed in their face. But here he was, content and contemplating another round with a lover who looked exactly like him. He didn't feel the panic he experienced when Baines had kissed him the night before. He thought he was straight. But he felt drawn to Baines in a way he had not been attracted to any woman before. He had soothed Michael's fears, eased his concerns, and then sated his libido. He reached out and stroked a stray lock into place along Leigh's hairline. He wasn't sure where this relationship would be going, but he was willing to find out.

At his touch the eyes opened and locked on his face. Instant recognition and understanding warmed those eyes and a slow sweet smile crossed Leigh's face. Arms reached up to envelope Michael and pull him into a kiss redolent of morning breath. Two stomachs growled in unison and both men giggled into the kiss.

"Why don't we have a shower together and find some food," said Leigh wiggling gently against Michael.

"Mmmmm, okay," was the distracted reply from Michael.

Leigh let him go with a sigh and rolled off his side of the bed and headed to the room's adjoining bathroom. Michael was close behind.

"With all the people in this house, I hope their hot water supply holds out. We had better make this quick just in case." Leigh said as they took turns at the toilet and started the shower. Slightly awkward the two of them maneuvered around the shower stall and washed themselves. Once clean and finding the water still running warm they rubbed up against each other, stroking and kissing until they climaxed one after the other.

Clean, dry, dressed, rested, sated and now wide-awake and hungry they headed out to find food.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

When the door opened Baines found Alexei and Sasha standing on the other side. He felt a pang of guilt. "Hey, hi there. Have you been standing here all this time? His brow creased at the thought of them waiting for him in the same position all night.

"Yes Leigh." Alexei answered and noting the frown gathering on Leigh's face added," We do not require a horizontal surface to go into sleep mode."

"How about food?" Leigh asked as he realized his mood was instantly apparent to the android and wondered what else they were picking up from him. How fine were their sensors? The soldier in him never slept.

"A woman brought us fuel when we arrived but more would be useful." said Sasha.

"Okay, let's go find breakfast, especially coffee." Leigh smiled at his three companions.

"Beer would be better," said Alexei.

Leading his small troop, Baines headed deeper into the huge house in search of food and other people

A beautiful aria emerged from Mac Smith's chest as he effortlessly directed human helpers around the kitchen. Night or day didn't matter much around the temple so he prepared a variety of food. A chocolate souffl trembled on the table, begging to be eaten. Chocolate covered doughnuts stood in rows. Covered dishes held scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, ham, and potatoes along side a vat of oatmeal. Coffee, tea and juice occupied the area set aside for drinks. Trey-Trey MacDuff added a selection of beer. The rescued Mac 27s included various types and not all consumed food for fuel. His happiness filled all the glitches and empty spots in his programming. Mac Smith had a lover and he felt exactly like a story that he had read in the Crche before his owner had purchased him. He was a Velveteen Rabbit, made real by the love of Skip Brule.

Four new hungry people entered HIS kitchen. Mac Smith grinned and indicated the variety of foods on the serving area, which separated the kitchen from the cafeteria. There was another more formal dining area, but no one bothered with that most of the time.

"Eat, drink, and be merry!" Mac Smith said, "This is a delightful day."

Directed to the buffet by Mac Smith, Baines started heaping a plate with eggs, sausages, hash browns, bacon, and toast. Michael followed in line filling his plate in turn. Alexei filled several cups with coffee and followed Baines and Michael to a seating nook in one corner of the huge kitchen. Once Michael and Leigh were seated and eating rapidly to take the edge off their appetites, Alexei rejoined Sasha at the buffet and they picked through the chocolate donuts, juices, and helped themselves to some chocolate souffl. Trays covered they joined Leigh and Michael in the nook.

Leigh ate quickly and neatly watching the two androids as they tucked into the chocolate with evidence of delight.

"You like chocolate hmmmm." he asked with a smile in his voice.

'Oh yes. It is wonderful. We had it for the first time last night. Even better than beer." the two identical voices spoke together.

"Are you two linked? I notice you often talk in unison or finish each other's sentences. What exactly was the 7000 series of Mac 27 programmed for? Why were you hooked up in stasis in the medical section of the laboratory?" Baines' curiosity got the better of him with this rapid series of questions.

Alexei and Sasha looked at one another. Sasha answered first. The 7000 series are military ordinance. Individual units can operate any piece of military hardware. Others have additional programming to fly planes, monitor spy satellites, run surveillance. Others have been used as ground troops."

He paused and Alexei picked up the thread. "All the Mac 27 units can communicate to some degree or other with every other one, unless purposely blocked from doing so. Every series had individual programming to start but as they were sold and put to use the new owners added programming. Tailoring each Mac to the purchaser's satisfaction was commonplace. The 7000 series was always being brought in and having programmes erased and new programming installed. They needed more fail-safes than most of the Mac 27's. Asimov's law has been overridden in a number of units. A lot of them have built in destruct mechanisms coded by the factory. "

This last made Leigh sit up. "Do either of you?"

"No," Sasha hastened to reassure Leigh. "No, however, our Asimov Law programming has been adjusted and our primary use was training demonstrations. We were teachers."

"Which means you can handle weapons, know tactics and understand soldiering better than most but have either of you ever been in the field?"

"Yes, but only as observers. As part of our training and instruction." Alexei shrugged in what would pass in a human as slight embarrassment. That of an untried soldier in face of one that had been under fire often.

Leigh recognized the expression and smiled reassuringly at Alexei. "Sounds good to me. Now about your personal telepathy?"

"That is what the laboratory was working on, I think." He looked at Alexei for confirmation before he continued, "We have been together from the start and it is a new ability, though we have always had a tight communications loop between us."

Someone else came into the kitchen and spotting the four called over, "Skip is setting up a strategy session and he was asking about you guys."

Michael listened to Alexei and Sasha, feeling more and more out of place. He didn't have any military experience, although he was a good shot on the target range. These two androids seemed to share more experiences with Leigh than he did. He wondered what Leigh had in mind for these two, as well as him. He couldn't help but blush when he thought of last night in bed, or this morning in the shower. He felt that there was some mark on him screaming the details of what he did last night... a scarlet F or some sign that everyone else could see. But still, he couldn't wait to be alone with Leigh again.

Leigh glanced at Michael and read insecurity in his face. He reached over and put a hand over Michael's "Hey, this is good news, babe. Alexei and Sasha will teach you. We are going to be the Four Musketeers," he smiled at the lightening of expression on Michael's face.

Turning to Alexei and Sasha he said, "Actually, you will probably be kept busy teaching a large number of Mac's and clones if we are going to help them survive what I think is coming."

Alexei and Sasha nodded in response and reached for more chocolate.

The four headed into the main section of the house and found that Baines' prediction was true. Skip was expecting an attack and he wanted Baines to gather the group and prepare them to fight.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

One heard the celebrating humans return. He must have been in the cyber world for a long time. He was sorry that he would have to disappoint the raiding party. All they had done was scratch the surface. Innobotics still existed and it was moving against them. One bearer of bad tidings

Langly scratched at his head. The black stocking hat made his scalp feel itchy. The android that seemed to be a central communications device for the Mac 27s immediately called him over. Langly had half hoped that one of the Mac 27s would be killed in the raid. He was curious about their operations. They were odd creatures, so human at times and at others, well, they seemed very confused.

Langly nervously looked around for the crazy robot that had abducted him. He checked the staircase, the corners, behind the curtains, and under the tables. Okay, seemingly safe.

One said, "Gross meant you no harm."

Langly said, "He thinks I'm a girl. I was just about to show him proof that I couldn't be when I saw the chance to escape."

One dismissed the complaint with a wave of his hand. He pointed at the computer center and said, "There is a problem. Your back door orifice did not penetrate fully into Innobotics' system. After you left, I had a glimpse of other hidden systems. When I was connected to the computer, I sensed a powerful enemy. I don't know how much information it gained from me before I managed to close the connection."

Ricky Caruso glumly entered. He said, "Well, Romeo is happy and we did rescue a nice bunch of baby Mac 27s plus a really foxy Mulder looking fellow. Most of the Mac 27s don't even have much programming. They're sweet and innocent... cute as puppies if you ask me. However, I stayed behind to watch the fireworks. Baines is going to be pissed. I saw a couple explosions, but then nothing. Our big strike was a fizzle."

One nodded and said, "I calculated the probability as low that we would succeed in causing major damage."

Ricky sighed and said, "Yeah, I'm over my head. I've never been a plan-ahead kind of guy. Baines seemed to know what he was doing so hey, I just went with it. Well, I can't say it was a total loss. True love is rare enough. I'll be glad to see Romeo and Jules cooing at each other again."

Ricky looked at the computer and asked, "Can I do anything here?"

Langly thought this younger version of Krycek was cute. Just as good to look at as Alex, but not so intimidating. Why couldn't Ricky have been the one to abduct him? Or, Langly caught his breath, Alex. He's spent many a night with his favorite tweety-bird footsie pajamas down around his ankles while he jerked off to a fantasy of being kidnapped and questioned by Krycek. Somehow, the torture always ended with his virginity being ravished splendidly by the mysterious multiple agent.

Langly put his little fantasy away. He said, "No, I think this is over your head."

Ricky looked a little down. His bouncy personality seemed to have taking a beating. He said, "Okay, I got to find someone to take my mind off this mess."

Langly sadly looked at the computer and told himself that duty called. His eyes trailed Ricky's pert round behind as it sashayed away...

One blinked its eyes and said, "Do you need relief before you focus on the computer?"

Langly was tempted, but he wanted his first time to be something special not an offer to be serviced like a fifty thousand mile check up. He said, "No, I'll get to work."

Langly booted up. He could see instantly that the system was totally screwed. "Worms." He said, "Shit, my back door program was supposed to be fool proof and untraceable."

Langly hands flew over the keys. The worms were something new. In a way, Langly was thrilled. This was living. Cyber-conflict. As he jousted with the invaders, moving in and out of DOS to try new ways of removing them, the house grew quieter and quieter. He looked up and realized that everyone had left the main hall. He was alone with the computer.

Quiet voices created almost a bee's hum in Skip Brule's house. Most of the participants in the raid were exhausted from the tension. Even the deadly Baines had found a nest to which he had dragged the bemused Michael. Hyperactive Ricky was alone, a state he found uncomfortable. He was not the kind to meditate or ponder deep thoughts. And he wasn't sleepy. His body thrummed with an urge to do something. Getting laid would have been nice, but his half formed idea about Skip Brule dissipated when he saw the large man backing Mac Smith into a bedroom entryway the size of a garage door.

Ricky muttered, "Damn!"

Rodney Lange came wandering down the hall. He hadn't shaved and his eyes were dark circled. Plaintively, he said, "I'm worried about Eugene. He's been away too long and didn't answer my last call."

Ricky pulled his clone close and patted him. Rodney might not have shaved, but he smelled delectable. Too bad he was so head over heels in love with Eugene Sands. Wondering what that felt like, Ricky comforted his double and said, "We'll head over there and have a look. Besides, I want to know why Mulder has been avoiding me."

Skip had said, "Take any car."

His garage held a vast row of vehicles, but Ricky spotted one that was the double of the one James Bond drove. It took only a moment to confirm that it was armor plated with a souped up engine to compensate for the added weight. Ricky liked cars; he really enjoyed the feel of a heat and power surging beneath him, but driving wasn't bad either....

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

Anne loved this place. Acres of beautiful men who looked just like her lovely Romeo and Juliet. Great food. Her dogs were in ecstasy with two hundred people to scratch their tummies and play with them. Even Allison's cat seemed to like them in her way...which included hanging out at just the right height to box their ears as they walked by. Kneeling down, Anne embraced her furry best friends. She had been idle long enough. She'd agreed not to go along on the raid because she wasn't trained, but Romeo and Jules were her friends. She wouldn't stand by and let everyone else defend them.

Although she was no soldier, Anne thought she knew what she could contribute. She sought One and found him contemplating the interesting hacker named Langly. She said, "One, my father knew a great deal about your people. I inherited some computer data from him. I think we should go and get it. Maybe Langly should go to and have a look at the discs."

One nodded. He said, "We'll take four of the guards as none of us are trained to defend ourselves."

Patting her gun, Anne said, "Not entirely true. I'm a good shot and have no problem hurting anyone who tries to mess with my friends."

One managed to look amused and said, "Still, we will take the guards. Police tend to dislike people who shoot guns in their area."

The postal box was exactly as it was when Anne left it. She had taken the material out to look at it once, but it had depressed her to consider what kind of person her father had been. Now, she hoped it would give her a weapon to use in defense of the Mac 27s. She couldn't stand to lose her beautiful Romeo and Jules.

One settled down to read the journals. His eyes scanned rapidly page after page of the closely written notes. Langly popped a disc into his laptop. "Wow, haven't seen encryption like this for ages. Frohike is going to be so bent when he finds out what I have."

Returning from their errand to pick up Anne's fathers documents and disks her satisfaction was about to be eroded. Behind the steering wheel, Anne was nervously aware of several SUV's following. She lead footed the vehicle as the guards silently consulted with each other. Two of the vehicles crowded either side of her. She gasped as one of them bumped her...

One remained calm as chaos erupted around them. He grabbed a mobile phone and called Skip Brule. "Hello, the compound. We are in need of assistance. Location, approximately five miles from home, traveling toward you on the road bordering the gravel pit."

Instantly, Brule picked up the phone and said, "Roger, got you. Let me hunt up Baines and see if he can recon out to get you."

Moments later, Skip was back on the line. He said, "Baines is on the move toward you. The kid's one hell of a soldier. I think he'll take care of your little problem.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

Denise smoothed down his skirts and arranged himself becomingly in the vicinity of the designated deli. He'd liked Skinner's voice. It had sounded kindly, and he so wanted to make an impression. He idly buffed his nails, and uttered a ladylike 'damn' when he noticed a snag in his nylons.

When the burly, bald AD approached the doorway of the deli, Denise was busy applying yet another coat of lipstick, and didn't at first notice his arrival. It was only when a cellular phone rang, and the voice he recalled barked "Skinner," that he looked up to see the man himself.

Standing, Denise dusted off his skirt, and made her way over to the AD. "Assistant Director? I'm Special Agent Bryson."

//What the fuck?//

Skinner stared silently at the apparition before him. Phone call completely forgotten, he slipped his cell phone into his pocket without even turning the damned thing off. His jaw clenched and he felt his headache return with a vengeance.

"Agent Mulder... I am *not* amused," he said in a dangerously quiet voice. "We've got innumerable copies of Krycek running around the city, everyone is looking for you and you're... you're... WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Reaching out one hand he grabbed Mulder's arm and started to haul him away. Paused when he realized he had no car to drag him off in.

"Where's your car, Mulder? We're going to your place *right now*. You will change out of that... that... get up and then we're going to find out what the hell is going on." He glared at the agent, grinding his teeth in impotent fury. "And, Mulder... wipe that lipstick off of your mouth this minute."

Denise jumped in astonishment. Why was this lovely man with the kind voice yelling at him? And why was he calling him Agent Mulder? Was he mad?

"Assistant Director?" Denise was angry now, and her husky tones carried a definite reprimand. "I was told to report to you right away. I haven't had time yet to see about a vehicle. You need to approve my paperwork for the transfer, and with regard to my lipstick, if it was good enough for J. Edgar himself, then it's good enough for me. It's "Sunset Glow." That's my favorite shade, and extremely good for the skin. Would you like to borrow it?"

He waved his hands, ineffectually attempting to remove Skinner's grip from his arm as he found himself being hustled inexorably towards a taxi. Moments later the two of them were in the back of a cab heading out towards Alexandria.

Skinner's head was pounding.

Damn Mulder anyway. The son of a bitch was singularly capable of bringing him to a towering rage at the best of times... but this... *this* went beyond anything the agent had ever pulled before.

With a put upon sigh, he rubbed his aching temples. What if this *wasn't* Mulder?

He turned his head, studying the profile of the ... //Hellfire, is this a man or a woman or a Mulder?//

Shit.

He pulled his glasses off and sat back wearily. "All right... Bryson, wasn't it? Suppose you tell me about this urgent matter."

Denise breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe the Assistant Director had just eaten bad clams or something. It would be all right, he could tell.

"I was transferred in from the Washington State office to DC, and when I reported for duty, yesterday, the section chief told me that I was to report directly to you. He said something about X-Files. I couldn't get any real information from him, he just said that the briefing should come from you, sir." He licked his lips, and tugged at the bow on the neckline of his blouse. "He was not very pleasant, sir."

Skinner shook his head.

"Okay, Bryson. May I see your ID, please?" That at least should give him a clue as to the sex of the... person beside him. Bryson handed him his wallet, open to display his FBI tag and his driver's license. Hell's bells. It was a man!

He slowly returned the wallet to his newest agent, and sat, stunned. Bryson was about to say something when the cab pulled up outside Hegel Place. Skinner paid the driver and climbed out of the cab. He was *really* looking forward to Mulder's reaction to this one. He ushered Bryson through the door and headed for the elevator. "So, Bryson," Skinner glanced sideways at the ... person next to him while they waited for the elevator. "I imagine you've faced some, um, flak over your mode of dress." //as it were//

The doors opened and Skinner stood aside waiting for Bryson to board the elevator ahead of him. Then it occurred to him that he was reacting as if this *were* a woman. Of course ... the guy wouldn't be wearing a skirt and makeup if he didn't want to be treated as a woman. Right? Hell, he didn't know how to act. Transvestite FBI agents were a bit beyond his ken. Hoover had a lot to answer for, in his opinion. His head was pounding, and he hadn't even seen Mulder yet. Checking his pocket, he was relieved to find his bottle of aspirin at hand. That would be first on his list once they reached Mulder's apartment ... take at least a dozen aspirin. He leaned against the wall of the lift and imagined the expression on Mulder's face when he saw Bryson. And smiled.

Denise gazed at the AD's smile. It was a nice one, and he thought that perhaps the Assistant Director had recovered his good nature. He smiled back as the elevator pulled up on the 4th floor and followed his new superior out.

"Are we on a case, Assistant Director?" he breathed, as the AD knocked at the door of Number 42. "Do I need my weapon?"

Skinner's grin was wide enough to be called manic now, as the door began to open.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

"Mulder? Want me to get one or the other?" Alex called.

Mulder had taken an instant to wipe his sticky face, but the other matter that called plaintively for attention would have to wait, thought Mulder, giving the bulge in his boxers a defiant look before zipping up his pants. He'd just knotted his tie when he heard the noises from the living room and Alex's question.

"Get the phone," he called, and trotted over to the door. He flung it open and nearly fainted when he found the doorframe virtually bulging with AD Skinner... moreover, Skinner with an evil smile.

"H-hello sir," he stuttered, moving into the room to let the AD and his companion through. Fuck, there was Alex, in plain view, with his jeans halfway down his legs, talking into the phone. Snatching up Krycek's gun from the couch, he leveled it at the assassin, and gave a sickly smile. "Er... I apprehended Krycek breaking into my apartment, sir. I've just been searching him for weapons."

Trying to divert attention he gestured at his double on the couch. "And this is Mr. Sands. He has information about other clones in town. We were just about to pool our knowledge when you arrived, sir."

He turned to Skinner's companion, a tall brown-haired woman, and held out his hand. "How do you do? I'm Agent Fox Mulder. I don't believe we've met?"

Skinner put one hand on Bryson's lower back and pushed her ... him? ...towards Mulder. "This is Special Agent Bryson, Mulder."

Denise shook back her hair and held out one perfectly manicured hand to Mulder. "So nice to meet you, Mr. Mulder," she said in a sultry voice.

Skinner grinned and looked at Sands. Looked again. Winced and pulled his glasses off to rub at his temples. "I need a glass of water, Mulder," he said, reaching into his pocket for his trusty bottle of aspirin. "And Mulder... put the damned gun away. I know damn good and well what Krycek's doing here." His eyes dropped to the obvious erection tenting Mulder's pants. He shook his head and grimaced, raising one hand to halt the protest he saw brimming on Mulder's face. "Don't even bother, Mulder. I couldn't possibly care less if you want to fuck Krycek in your spare time ... besides, maybe *he* has some ideas on the matter of the clone convention here in town." Looking over at Krycek appraisingly, he snorted. "He is rather decorative, I'll grant you that."

Mulder was appalled. How long had Skinner known about himself and Alex? He thought he'd been so careful to hide their relationship. Perhaps Scully knew, too? He shuddered. "Yes, sir," he said, wincing. "Thank you. But I'd rather not discuss Alex here and now." He glanced over at Agent Bryson and back at this boss. "There *is* a lady present, after all."

Skinner smirked. "Mulder, this is Special Agent Denis Bryson."

Eugene had been practicing the Zen art of being one with the sofa. He had been in the Yale drama club so cross dressing had been an extra credit activity. He had been Fanny Brice, Cleopatra, and Mame. Denis' outfit and makeup were street-wear, but he knew instantly that here was another he. It was making him cross. Well, at least, Rodney wasn't here. It might make him a little jealous. Knowing Mulder had a thing with Rodney was one thing, but seeing the guy in the room with his lover was another. Eugene was torn between trying to leave in the confusion and making one last effort to get this motley crew involved in helping the Mac 27s. Eugene looked from Denis to Mulder and added finding out why and how he had been cloned. Surely there must be some purpose to duplicating Krycek and Mulder? Eugene evaluated Mulder's weird behavior and wondered if it was just an effort to improve on a muddled Mulder?

The presence in the nicely tailored skirt and blouse stepped forward and extended his hand. "Denise," he said, firmly.

Mulder took the hand, noting the softness of it, and the perfectly lacquered nails. He stared hard at Agent Bryson, a puzzled expression on his face. "That's amazing Agent Bryson," he said. "You're very convincing. Have you been working undercover for long?"

He turned to Skinner. "Is Agent Bryson joining us permanently, sir?"

"It looks as if Bryson will be with us for some time to come." Skinner grinned. "And, Mulder, Bryson is not working undercover. This is his ... her ... this is Bryson's preferred mode of dress." He stood back and waited for Mulder's brain to kick into gear.

//Congratulations! Give the man a lollipop!// came Fox's exasperated voice. //Now you wouldn't catch me in an outfit like that. A little red number, real short, and the highest heels we could manage without breaking our ankles. What do you reckon, Spooky-boy? Huh?//

//She wouldn't wear clothes like that at work, and I should imagine she's too respectable to wear clothes like that anytime. Not everyone wants to go round looking like a hooker, Fox.// Shit, what am I doing, he thought, debating women's outfits with him. I hope this doesn't give him any ideas.

//What do you suppose Skinner thought when he met her for the first time, Spooky?// Fox's voice had a hint of laughter in it.

Mulder choked. //Oh, my God! I bet he thought it was me. Damn, I wish I'd been there. I wonder if Scully's met her yet?//

"Is that so, sir?" remarked Mulder, straight-faced. He was shocked, but he'd be damned if he'd let Skinner get a rise out of him after nearly making him jump out of his skin by revealing he knew about Alex. "I had no idea that the Bureau had such enlightened policies. It's not a style I'd be inclined to adopt myself, however, at least, not at work.

"If you'll excuse me for my comment, Agent Bryson, women's clothing isn't ideal in situations where, say, one has to be involved in a fight. Though if it's mostly deskwork, like Assistant Director Skinner has, I suppose it would be perfectly practical. What do you think, sir?" He didn't have the pleasure of hearing the A.D.'s answer, because Alex, who had been talking on the phone, called him.

Denise took a deep breath. He opened his mouth to give Agent Mulder a piece of his mind, but closed it again as he saw the annoying man turn to look at the one armed man in the jeans that weren't yet fastened. He looked back at Skinner, who had also been stung by Mulder's speech, and shrugged, moving a little closer to him as he did.

Meanwhile:

Methos was so looking forward to the temper tantrum he planned to throw; he almost dropped the receiver in surprise when a male voice answered. He fumbled the phone, then spoke, "I need to speak with Agent Mulder, please. Is he there? This is Methos."

Krycek had removed the gun from Mulder's suddenly nerveless fingers, and stuck it in the waistband of his still unfastened jeans, and then gone to answer the telephone. He hadn't taken much notice of the newcomer who was standing in the doorway next to Skinner, but now, as he listened to the cultured, English sounding voice on the phone, he had time to take in Denise in all her glory. His jaw dropped.

"Um...sorry. Mulder, yeah. Hold on. Sorry," he stuttered. "Hold on," he said again, unnecessarily, and held the phone out to Mulder. "Mulder, it's for you," he babbled, inanely. Of course it's for him, he thought wildly, it's his phone. Shit! "Mulder!" he yelled again.

At last, Mulder turned, and Alex handed him the phone.

"It's an English guy. He said he needs you." Finally handing the phone to Mulder, Alex moved over to where the rest of his clothes were lying, ready to put them on. As he passed Denise, he gave her a long, sardonic look.

"Very nice, Walt," he said. "I always knew that you had the hots for Mulder. Good call!" Grinning, he began to pull on his clothing.

Denise Bryson gasped in horror. What was being insinuated here? He gave Krycek a stare that was calculated to depress his pretensions. "I may be wearing a dress, but I still put on my pants one leg at a time." he announced, decisively, and moved back to stand close to nice Mr. Skinner. "As for you, " he addressed the apparently zoned-out Mulder. "You don't seem to be open to extreme possibilities. What a sad thing that there are such narrow minds here in the heart of the nation's capitol." He smiled at AD Skinner, inviting him to share his irritation

As Mulder put the phone to his ear he puzzled over Alex's remark, and the close look he'd given Bryson. Come to think of it, Eugene was staring hard at her, as well. In fact, Eugene and Denise had more than a passing resemblance, and with this observation came the sickening realization that Bryson must look like him as well.

A tinny voice in his ear brought him back to reality. Someone was saying 'Hello' in an increasingly irritated voice. Oh, yes. The phone. Giving himself a mental shake, he said, "Mulder here."

Cory and Dustin had slept soundly after their adventure at The Mall. When they woke they joined Methos and Anson for breakfast and it was quickly decided that they should get hold of Mulder one way or another.

"Well, well, well," Methos sneered. "Do I actually have the honor of speaking with the famous Fox Mulder at last? I was beginning to despair of ever reaching you. Listen, Mulder, I really think we need to get together and try to figure out what the hell is going on with all of these clones running around ... not to mention your smoking friend and that blonde bimbo we saw in the bar last night. Do you think you can find time in your oh so busy schedule to meet with us?"

Biting back a rude retort at the abrupt attitude the stranger on the end of the line was taking, Mulder resisted the temptation to slam down the phone and heard him out instead. At the reminder of the smoker and his 'blond bimbo'... could that be Marita? his ears pricked up, and he forgot to be angry. Sweeping his eyes around the throng in the living room he sighed. What difference could a few more make? It wasn't until he'd given directions to his apartment and hung up that he realized he hadn't bothered to ask who the guy was, or how many more people he should expect.

Skinner grinned at Bryson and put one hand on his ... her ... oh, hell ... He put one hand on Bryson's back and glared at Krycek. "You," he said, "have absolutely no knowledge of what I want. Bryson may look like you lover over there, but believe me; the resemblance is only on the surface. "And you," Skinner turned his attention to Mulder, "Should really think long and hard before passing judgment on other people's lifestyles." He guided Denise over to the couch and sat next to her. "Ignore them," he said to her. "Your dress is just fine," he smiled at her reassuringly. "I suspect that you can hold your own in a fight." He looked over at Mulder. "Who were you talking to? Are we expecting company?"

Muttering, "Coffee..." he sidled into the kitchen and frowned at the pile of dirty mugs in the sink. Maybe a few quiet minutes with rubber gloves and hot soapy water would give him a handle on the situation.

In the kitchen, Mulder couldn't believe the evidence of his own ears. Skinner was humoring Bryson... reassuring her. He glanced round to answer Skinner's question and his eyed bugged. He was sitting next to her on the couch, smiling at her.

Mulder began to get seriously worried. Could Alex's remark have been correct? Was Skinner attracted to Denise, because she looked like him, but in a non-threatening, feminine way? What a frightening thought. Clearing his throat he replied, unsteadily, "I didn't get a name, sir. But it's about the clones. Whoever it was is on his way, and I suspect there may be others with him."

He turned back to the sink, musing.

The buzz of voices in Mulder's apartment was deafening. Everyone except Mulder was talking across each other, and *he* was deafened by Fox, who was so excited by the possibilities of the clones he had their mutual sex-life mapped out for the next fifteen years.

The pile of coats on the footstool in front of the couch twitched. It heaved. It stood, and slid to the floor. A Mac27, his eyes fired with the spirit of the Lord, stretched his arms to the heavens and bellowed "Hallelujah".

Throwing an inspired glance around the room, he reiterated, "Hallelujah! Hallelujah, Brothers and Sisters in the Flesh, I have been blessed. I am saved! A voice has spoken to me of the afflicted, the downtrodden, and it said, 'Gather together all the righteous, for there is a poor weak soul who has been lead astray by the seductive voice of the Great Pretender, and who is alone and suffering in a House of Sin, whom ye are called to succor.'

"This blighted spirit is named 'Langly'. My Brother of the Spirit, who has been filled with the Aether of the One True Divinity, the Avatar of the Electromotive Force, has blessed me with the message that we must save this poor inferior creature. We must wrest their victim from the clutches of the corrupt mammalian hoards and help Langly seek salvation with my pure, though over-charitable android compatriot, Gross.

" Who is with me?" He scanned the room. It was awash with stunned, blank visages, save one. Mulder had scooted out of the kitchen, his hands frothy with suds, and announced, "Me! You said Langly, didn't you? I'm with you. Langly's my friend."

Seconds later the two were descending in the elevator; Tin Man filled with the Light of the Divine Insubstantiality that Heisenberg had envisioned, Mulder filled with relief that he had put off the problem of the clones for a few more hours. Ignoring the way Mulder had rushed out of the apartment, Skinner looked at Krycek. "I don't suppose you have any insight on the situation? I've seen far too many copies of you in the last couple of days - there must be some explanation."

Meanwhile, Cory, Methos, Dustin and Anson were just entering the building.

"Hey," Cory pointed to two men climbing into a car. "Isn't that Mulder?" Dustin looked in the direction Cory had pointed. "I've never met the man - I wouldn't know."

Methos looked and shrugged. "Probably. The man does seem to be rather difficult to catch up with."

"So," Cory watched the car pull away, "what now?"

"Hell, I don't know," Methos said irritably. "Let's go on up and see if anyone's home. Maybe it wasn't him ... maybe he has clones on the loose too."

Dustin rolled his eyes. "Frankly, it wouldn't surprise me."

Cory sighed. "Okay," he agreed.

Dustin walked towards the elevator and waited for the others. "What a long, strange trip it's been," he muttered. Just as Ricky and Rodney pulled into the parking space vacated by a taxi, a car drove by containing Mulder and a Mac 27 in the factory issue overall. "Damn," Ricky exclaimed, "Missed him by that much! I could catch him in this car in nothing flat"

Tugging his "twin's" arm, Rodney said, "No, I want to check on Eugene. Maybe Mulder's gone completely around the bend and hurt him."

Having by now, spotted the group entering the apartment building, Ricky said, "Look it's a convention. Okay, this I have to see. With you and me, that makes five of us in one place. Hope someone has a camera." Eager for chaos, Ricky hopped out of the car and raced to the steps. Rodney kept up easily. The elevator closed just as they entered the lobby.

Days after, Mulder wondered what had possessed him to follow Tin Man. He'd never been carried away by religious fervor before, never turned his back on such a mystery as that brewing in apartment 42. Maybe it was the sight of Skinner getting cozy with his transvestite look-a-like on his own couch that had been the clincher. As he laboriously filled out the report about the destruction of that taxi, he thought back on the events. Tin Man had taken the lead. Directing the driver to step on it, he threw Mulder into the back, and jumped into the front himself. The taxi screeched away from the curb, and out into the fray that was the evening traffic. They hadn't been in motion more than five minutes when a battered and filthy Land Rover swept across the central reservation and drove straight at them. Mulder thought later that it hadn't been the driver's intention to play chicken, it was just shock that had kept him on his course, and when he was plucked from the wreckage by two strong sets of hands he was downright startled that he was alive and fairly unharmed.

Two identical faces looked down on him in concern. Shit, I've got double vision, must be concussed, he thought, 'til he realized that one was sporting a battered hat. He smiled a silly smile and passed out.

When he awoke he was lying on a vibrating floor looking up past two pairs of long legs at a small square ceiling. The floor jolted to a standstill, and he was hauled to his feet by those hands again and half-dragged to a familiar door. "Forty-two?" he said, puzzled. "Isn't this where I live?" The door swung open and he was dumped unceremoniously face down in the hallway. "Is there a doctor in the house?" bellowed Gross. Krycek had been about to leave and try to catch up with Mulder, and as the group came in through the door he virtually ran into them. With a snort of laughter, he studied the prone form of his reluctant lover. "Bring him in, boys. He's just in time for the party."

Methos groaned with disgust and stepped forward. "I'm a doctor."

Rodney immediately went to Eugene and pulled him into a quiet corner and just held on to him as they both watched the situation in apartment 42 unfold.

Skinner, beyond surprise at this point, simply asked if Mulder was alive. Once Methos had assured him that the agent was just fine, he settled back on the couch and watched as the clones buzzed around Mulder.

Krycek was becoming a little pissed off at the situation. Mulder was doing his best impression of an airhead, there were duplicates of him everywhere, there were duplicates of Mulder too, and they all seemed to be as off the wall as Mulder himself, and one of them was even wearing a dress. It was time to stop sniffing the illicit substances, he told himself. Feeling as though he ought to blow a whistle or something, he raised his voice to try and quiet people down. It didn't work. He shouted for attention again, and still nothing happened. Sighing, he raised his gun and fired it out of the window, causing the glass to burst as though a bomb had hit. There was immediate silence.

"Thank you. Now, do you think we could talk about this without getting silly?"

Mulder sat up, groaning. Jeez, he had the mother of all headaches, and now some moron was letting off firearms and smashing windows. The noise stabbed through his brain like a red-hot knitting needle. Squinting at the culprit, he sighed. Alex. Wouldn't you know it? Mulder staggered to his feet, and over to the couch, collapsing next to Skinner like a beached jellyfish. He listened to Alex's words drop into the silence. Alex's methods were drastic, but he seemed to have brought some order into the situation.

His eyes panned the room in disbelief. He'd thought the crowd at Ricky's had been unbelievable, but at least there'd only been copies of Alex, and he'd already known about a couple of them. But now there were at least two other copies of him. He looked at Skinner's stern face and winced. What next? More Skinners? And someone had said Langly was in danger... but was it Langly? This whole thing was getting so ridiculous. A list, that would be good. When in doubt, collate the data, look for a pattern.

He beckoned Tin Man over. "Get a pad of paper and pen from the desk, would you?" he asked. "Get everyone's names, and ask if they know of any other copies of us. Make a separate list of all the Mac27's you know of in the area. I'd do it myself, but my vision is a little blurred. Oh, and ask the humans' ages. There seems to be a variation and there could be a clue if we can discover who was the original of each of us, and whether there's a connection between them. We need to find out what's going on before the whole of Washington looks like genetic engineering run riot."

He turned to his boss. "Assistant Director, who sent Agent Bryson here? Do you think they knew that she and I were clones?"

Denise Bryson had had enough. People were shooting guns, shouting in a very ill bred manner, and looking down their noses at him in a very pointed fashion. He had had enough. He had shrieked in a maidenly way as the gun went off, and then as Ricky shot him another disdainful glance, he rose, clasped his hands to his chest, and swooned with a maidenly sigh, falling into AD Skinner's lap as though drawn by fine strings. "There," he thought. "That will fix his wagon!"

Skinner started in surprise when Bryson landed on top of him. What the hell? Uncomfortably aware that his lapful was a source of great amusement to everyone in the room, he grimaced and looked around for help as he adjusted the agent's body so that all of his, um, her, weight wasn't resting on such a sensitive area of his body.

'Of all the infuriating things', first, Walter lectures him about not hurting his feelings and now he was sitting there looking complacent with that floozy all over him! Ricky leapt up at the apparent faint and decried,

"I'll get smelling salts!" Ricky looked at Mulder and asked, "Do you have smelling salts?" Nah, Mulder wouldn't have something so ordinary. He probably had some South American medicine only known to remote tribes, who were given it by benign aliens. But if Krycek's gibes were accurate, there should be something just as odoriferous in the kitchen. Ricky threaded through the crowd of double and made his way to the small, dark kitchen. Opening the fridge, he wrinkled his nose and selected a plate overgrown with a wonderland of blue, brown, green, and yellow mold. Holding this at arms length, Ricky found the path cleared itself. He shoved this foul smelling thing under the Durante like nasal appendage of the dramatically flung (Across HIS Walter's lap!) woman. Not so pretty now, Ricky thought, watching the face turn green...

Cory looked at Dustin. "These people are all nuts," he said softly, inviting Dustin to enjoy the humor of the situation.

Dustin looked at Cory. "You'll get no argument from me." He chuckled. "Are we awake, or is this a dream?" He arched a brow. "You slip something into my drink, Raines?"

"Oh, hell," Methos grumbled, recognizing the signs. He moved over to the couch and pushed Ricky out of the way. "Come on," he said to Skinner. "We'd better get her into the bathroom."

Relieved that *someone* was offering aid, Skinner nodded and struggled to lift Bryson. Methos grabbed her shoulders and pulled while Skinner worked his way up to his feet. Between them, they hauled Bryson out of the living room, arriving in the bathroom just in time.

As Bryson heaved her guts out, Skinner winced and rubbed his eyes. //Why me, lord?//

Methos dampened a washcloth with cool water and wiped Bryson's pale and sweaty forehead. "Take it easy," he murmured. "You'll be okay in a minute." He looked at Skinner. "Let's get her into the bed. She'll be fine after laying down for a few minutes."

"Fine, fine," Skinner agreed. He and Methos supported Bryson as she shakily rose to her feet. "This way," he said, heading into Mulder's bedroom.

Once Denise was settled on the bed, Skinner turned to leave the room. When she grabbed at his hand he looked down at her warily. "Yes, Agent Bryson?"

"Please, sir..." Bryson's voice was breathy, quiet, and he was obviously suffering from the experience he'd just had. His complexion had faded from the green of a few moments prior to a pale and unhealthy yellow. It would take a lot of powder to repair that.

Skinner eyed him with distrust, and Bryson felt his world lurch sideways. This kind man was all that stood between him and chaos. He couldn't leave...

"Please, sir," he said again. "Don't leave me."

He sat up on Mulder's waterbed, and then lay down again, hastily. "I get seasick."

Skinner heaved a sigh. "All right, Bryson, just lay back for a bit. I'll stay." Gingerly, he sat on the edge of Mulder's bed and looked at the Agent. He couldn't help but have a sneaking fondness for the man ... Hell, woman. Obviously, Bryson's female persona was the one she preferred. The, excuse the expression, balls it took to be a transvestite in the testosterone-laden world of the FBI was rather admirable. And, she had a flair that he was finding harder and harder to resist. Carefully, he reached up and brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across Bryson's face. Pulled his hand back and stared at it as if it were some foreign entity. What the hell was he going to do? Ricky was obviously *not* a happy camper ... and Walt really couldn't blame him. After the little speech he'd given the man the other night about not throwing his infidelities in Skinner's face, this situation was bound to piss the kid off. Still, it was nice to have Bryson need him. He liked to be needed. Just as soon as he could get away from Bryson, he'd have to talk to Ricky. What he'd say ... Damn, what *would* he say. What the hell did he want? with Ricky was mind-blowing. And, the younger agent was so ... beautiful. But, would their relationship ever develop into anything beyond the occasional fuck? Could he live with it if things stayed the way they were? He just didn't know.

And then someone's cell phone rang.

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On to Chapter 12