The Game 20
Edited by Karen Leigh
Rising from his seat, Methos stretched and looked at the group. "So, is everyone coming upstairs?"
There was a general round of agreement and the men headed out of the bar. In the lobby, Methos paused, looking at a familiar couple standing near the doorway. "Hey," he nudged Anson, nodding in the couple's direction, "Don't we know them? They were at Mulder's apartment, remember?"
Cory turned to take a look and nodded. "Yep. That's Skinner and the cross-dressing Fibbie."
Cross-dressing FBI agents? Now that surely qualified as counterculture if not counter-counterculture. Things were getting more surreal, but Matthew was becoming more and more comfortable with his decision to hook up with these guys, at least for a while.
Dave shook his head. What the hell had Adam dragged him into? Almost tempted to take his leave, his eyes fell upon Tom and he quashed that idea. Hell, he had nothing better to do... the conference had ended last night. Having taken a couple of extra days off, he'd planned to do a little sightseeing. Possibly, Tom could find time to join him... if not, Dave would be quite content restrict his sightseeing to a thorough study of one *very* attractive mountain climber. Of course there were any number of - apparently - men in town with the same attractiveness, but there was just something about Tom that called to him. As most of these clones seemed to be gay - or at the very least, bisexual, he figured his chances were pretty good with Tom.
Ah, the chiropractor and the mountain climber, too. There's a humor piece in there somewhere -- heavy on the irony. When Matthew looked closer, he amended his assessment. Maybe this one's a little more one-sided. So far, anyway.
At least, he hoped so.
Moving to McLaren's side, he watched as Adam and Anson approached the couple. When the woman turned, he caught his breath. Some men, he thought, *really* shouldn't dress in drag.
Matthew smiled. His editor would have a fit if he sent something in with a picture of that drag queen dressed like that as a tie-in. Might be worth it to see what kind of creative combinations of expletives she'd throw at him.
"Mr. Skinner?" Methos said as he walked up to Skinner and Denise.
Skinner turned and gave him a suspicious look. Then, recognition appeared in his eyes and he relaxed slightly. "Methos, right? You were at Mulder's with your friends weren't you?"
Nodding, Methos shook hands with the rugged man. "That was us." He turned and looked at Denise. "How are you feeling? As I recall, you weren't too steady on your feet the last time we met."
"Oh, I'm feeling just fine now," Bryson assured him. "Between you and the AD, I'm completely recovered." She batted her long eyelashes at him and struck a pose, brushing up against Skinner.
Ruthlessly suppressing his amusement at the strained expression this move brought over Skinner's face, Methos cleared his throat. "Listen, we're all headed up to Dustin's suite to have a little chat. Compare notes and try to figure out what's going on and explain as best we can to the latest arrivals." He turned and introduced the new faces. "This is Matthew, he's a journalist, Tom is a mountain climbing guide, and Dave here is a chiropractor friend of mine. And I understand that there is another clone upstairs - along with a non-clone friend. We're going to call them and see if they'd like to join us."
Matthew nodded at Skinner and smiled amiably at his companion.
"I'm Walter Skinner," he introduced himself to the group. "And this is Agent Bryson. We're both with the FBI."
Cory stepped forward, speaking to Skinner in a quiet voice. "Don't look now, but it seems you've got a clone of your own."
Matthew looked where Cory indicated and, sure enough, there was a guy that looked too much like Walter Skinner for comfort. Catching up to Cory, he asked, "Have the chiropractors moved on in favor of geneticists who aren't exactly bothered by the laws prohibiting human cloning? I thought this was a high class hotel."
Suddenly finding himself on the receiving end of an engaging smile, Matthew glanced quickly at Dustin who seemed entertained by showing McLaren the contents of his Blockbuster video bag. Instincts engaged and enjoying being on the trail of a story again, Matthew turned back to Cory, asking, "What do you think?"
It felt like a badger eating him from the inside. Enough of this shit. He gave pain, not took it.
His hot eyes spotted a tear in the fish net stockings....he zoomed in on the spot of pale flesh, begging to be bit and sucked...bruised...burnt a little...Bled!
Horace strutted up to his built like a prize bull look-a-like. He reached across the man's body towards the TV on the wall just above the bar doorway, invading Walter's space and managing to grope the green-eyed pretty boy's thigh at the same time. He turned the sound up painfully loud and found Jeopardy, scrolling up the sound until it echoed as if Trebec was God.
"Fuck!" Matthew grunted, looking over his shoulder at the new arrival who had grabbed him in a way he had no business doing. When he looked back, muttering, "Jesus Christ," he saw that Cory was grinning at him.
Blushing, Matthew found himself explaining, "I'm not used to defending my honor, you know?" When those amused eyes just seemed to twinkle more, he added, "I've taken some time off and been living in a very small town, okay? I'm a little, well, a lot out of practice with this sort of shit."
Seeing that he was doing nothing more than amusing the guy he wanted to get talking, Matthew prompted, "So what do you really think about all this?"
Denise, her head pounding a little from the sudden overwhelmingly loud sound of Jeopardy, rose to her feet and smiled at AD Skinner.
"I need to go freshen up. I'll be back in a sec." Taking her purse, she made purposefully for the ladies, and once inside, proceeded to make repairs to her toilette.
Fluffing out her hair, reapplying her lipstick only took her a moment or two, and she was once more ready for action.
She hoped that AD Skinner liked surprises.
Scowling like an Old Testament prophet, the burly double said, "Whoever you are, that's too loud."
Ready set, Horace's was ready to leap, his electric bugaloo was posed on his fingertips, ready to dump the old rag for the prime ride in front of him. Shit, the man was built. Check those thighs out. He couldn't wait to see if he could make the babe flustering next to the man scream as he held her down and squeezed her/him with those.
Horace nudged the other lovely with his hip, grinning as he saw the man reach for the channel changer. Yeah! Hot damn! He reached up as the man touched the set. There was a sizzling noise and the air crackled with streaks of electric zigzags.
Christ! Here we go again. Dipshit makes another move and that only makes Cory laugh. Although Matthew had to admit, it was a nice laugh -- full of verve for life -- something Matthew liked to think that he himself had.
Horace's abandoned body collapsed...oh, just wait till he saw what Horace had left in his neat, rose tiled bathroom.
Instinctively, Matthew reached out and caught the falling man just before he hit the floor and before he realized that it was the guy with the busy hands. "Hey," he called. "This guy looks like he needs a doctor."
Smiling to herself, she returned to where her new boss was sitting.
Dave groaned and knelt down at the fallen man's side. Checking for a pulse, he was relieved to find it steady. Quietly, he told the concierge - who himself looked on the verge of fainting at this unseemly display in his lobby - to call an ambulance.
Rising to his feet, Dave moved back a couple of steps and stopped next to Tom. "What the hell have we fallen into here?" He asked in a quiet voice.
Shrugging, Tom grimaced. "No idea, Dave."
Cory leaned over to murmur in Matthew's ear, "Never a dull moment."
"Let's head upstairs, shall we?" Methos asked. "I don't think there's anything we can do here."
There was a general nod of assent - except from Skinner. Methos frowned at the man. "Are you okay?" He asked when there was no sign of agreement from the AD.
"Fine," Horace growled, liking the timbre of AD Skinner's voice. Then he corrected, "Actually, I felt dizzy for a moment. I think someone should drive me home."
Spotting his sweet, sweet prey, Horace raked his eyes over her/him. Yes, yes, yes, oh, she/he looked toothsome. He's nibble gently at first. Bet he could make her/him come first even as she lay quivering with fear. He'll suck and lick her all over, part her thighs as he took all her flavor in. He'll treat the pretty-pretty like a Tootsie Roll Pop. How many licks to get to the yummy chocolate center? If you didn't just take a nice big chomp?
"Agent Bryson," Horace, wearing Walter, said, "I don't feel well. Could you take me home?"
Walter Skinner and his original host both had brown eyes, but Skinner's were quite expressive. Now, he turned a warmly imploring look at the object of Horace's lust. Milking the bid for sympathy, Horace took off Walter's glasses and wiped them on a bit of tissue. He swallowed and rippled his host's well-toned body.
Meanwhile, his host was gibbering with fear and rage, pounding on the walls of his confinement within the depths of his own mind. Oh, self-gratification, Horace could feel a trickle of dark emotions feeding him constantly from the imprisoned AD.
A hand reaching out to the beautiful Denise, Horace waited for charming contradiction to walk into his trap.
Denise smiled uncertainly.
"Of course, sir. I'm sorry that you're not feeling so good." Inwardly, she was cursing the fact that her careful preparations seemed to be going down the tubes. She'd dressed for Skinner, and now he was ill. She only hoped that the chance would come again.
Denise was in awe of the man's muscles. He might be a desk jockey, but he was stacked. She wished that he felt better, and couldn't help laying a hand on his bicep as she cooed, "I'll drive you, sir. Where do you live?"
The hotel loomed, and Alex stepped out of the car.
"Okay, we don't need to wait here, just go and give Skinner the directions and see who all else is wanting to join us."
As they stepped into the lobby, they met with chaos. A man was on the floor, and AD Skinner seemed to be suffering from something too.
She looked up briefly as Mulder came in, accompanied by the man she'd met earlier. Alex, she thought that it was, and two strangers she hadn't yet met. "Don't worry. We'll make you comfortable."
Scully surged to the fore, all concern for her superior, forgetting Hobbes and his problems.
Denise Bryson waved, and told them that she was about to take him home. Alex frowned again, trying to make sure that Hobbes was okay with all the clones that appeared to be milling around. He cast a glance of appeal to Fox, indicating that his volatile lover should stay close to Hobbes.
Fox stood entranced. The room seemed full of clones, more than he could count, and some of the others that had been using Mulder's apartment like Grand Central station recently. How many more could there be? He thought. *Ask yourself how many more there are of me, too, Foxy,* piped up Mulder's voice, sardonically. *And have you noticed, while we're thinking about it, that all the Alex clones seem to be pretty level headed guys, and the two others of us are both flakes? A drug addict and a drag queen. And then there's us. Makes you feel all cozy inside, doesn't it?* Unwittingly, Fox giggled out loud.
Matthew blinked at the newcomer, trying for philosophical. What's one more really, when you've already met four or five guys who look like you? Satisfied at some level, he responded, "This guy just collapsed; someone's calling an ambulance."
A petite red-haired woman pushed her way forward and crouched next to the fallen man with the air of someone who knew what she was doing.
Must be a doctor, Matthew thought, watching her calmly take the man's pulse and check his pupil dilation. When she fixed intent blue eyes on him, he found himself speaking, "One minute he was fucking around with the TV and the next he collapsed." Knowing the chuckle and muttered, "That's not all," he'd heard was likely Cory referring to the man's penchant for groping, Matthew quickly added, "I caught him," and winced at how eager and approval seeking that sounded. Another chuckle from his right he sorely did not need.
She nodded, seemingly satisfied with the information he'd provided, and returned her attention to the unconscious man.
Alex frowned again, trying to make sure that Hobbes was okay with all the clones that appeared to be milling around. He cast a glance of appeal to Fox, indicating that his volatile lover should stay close to Hobbes.
Fox saw that Alex was worried about Hobbes. The man seemed dazed, and was swaying slightly. Pulling himself together, he went over to the soldier and took his arm to support him - he looked as if he was going to faint.
Hobbes turned his head slightly. He wanted to jerk away but didn't. He felt so pale, drained and slightly dizzy. What was happening to him? Every since he started having these memories, he hadn't felt at all well.
"Why don't you sit while we get this sorted out, Hobbes?" He smiled, and continued, "I'm sorry I freaked you out, before. Alex and I play games, y'know... I forget sometimes that I should behave myself. He's a wild sort of guy, and he encourages all my worst kinks. I wasn't going to hurt you, and so long as you don't go after Alex, I won't." He grinned, thinking about what he'd just said. "Though, as a rule, he can look after himself," Fox admitted.
Hobbes just listened slowly blinking as he tried to not only sort things out that he was seeing but also what was happening to him inside his head. He took the drink Fox had retrieved for him, "Thank you," he said softly. He had to pull himself together, get back in the right frame of mind.
"What is going on?" Hobbes finally spoke once more, his voice slightly stronger.
Turning back to Cory, Matthew rolled his eyes at the other man's smirk, wondering what kind of stories the lady doctor might have to tell and how she might be persuaded to tell them. Unfortunately, it didn't look like he'd get to find out any time soon as the new guy in leather seemed to be trying to assert order over the chaos.
Fox looked over at his lover, surrounded by carbon copies of himself. He'd like to fuck every one of them, in ones, in twos, in threes... But not one of them had what Alex had... the arrogance and the edge. And none of them would appeal to Mulder, he knew. The guy was obsessively monogamous. However, Fox wondered how Mulder saw his own clones. He might be curious enough to want to bed them, justifying it as an X-File, or extended masturbation. Alex's voice broke in...
"What's going on?" Alex growled.
Bryson looked up. Jeez, what was she wearing? Fox's jaw dropped. *Add telepathy to that list of weirdness in the Mulder clones,* he told Mulder, as he took in the glory of his vision of her, personified. Shit... way to go, Denise, he thought. But don't waste it on Skinner, baby.
A hand on Denise's arm, Horace let his fingers stray in soft rhythm along her arm. It was a nice arm, solid with muscle and soft skinned. Her perfume was very pleasant; he looked forward to licking it all off her. Beneath the scent, she was hot with pheromones like musk laced with vanilla. He could smell her faint arousal as he displayed the well-toned body he had just taken.
Casting a glance at the two men who had joined the group, Horace wondered what it would take to get them later? He was so very hungry and it was a feast in DC, a veritable feast. Mustn't be greedy, Horace, he considered. First this delectable morsel. And he would not hurry his pleasure. Look at that neck. Imagine it arching as scream after scream emerged. He couldn't wait to bite at her little nipples. Just like Maraschino cherries on her chest. Oh, they would go down smooth when he nipped them off...
"I want to go to some place a little more private then my apartment. I keep another location for special occasions. I was hoping to show you under better circumstances, but this will have to do," Horace said as he led her away from the group and out the hotel door.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Tin Man had decided that he needed to liaise with someone in authority about the Mac and clone situation. A born... or should that be manufactured...follower, whether of religion, or any group who earned his allegiance, he had decided that of all the people he had met recently, his original contact, AD Skinner, had the most seniority and integrity.
Hurrying back to the apartment, he was just in time to see his quarry leave with the unusual Agent Bryson. He hoped that Skinner was going to take Bryson back to the office for a severe dressing down. He utterly disapproved of transvestitism, and had more than once had to condemn Mac 007, Gross's best friend, for his stubborn refusal to dress like his human name-sake, preferring instead a selection of outfits based on costumes worn by James Bond's female conquests.
He jumped on a handy bicycle, and sped off through the traffic after them, arriving at the hotel a mere minute in their wake. But they entered a bar, and Tin Man feared to follow them. He had a weakness, one that he had wrestled with, but had never overcome. Alcohol. Perhaps it wasn't supposed to affect Mac robots, but somehow Tin Man's absorption system processed it to make him drunk, and his circuits had become infected with a need to imbibe. He backed out of the hotel, to watch for their re-emergence.
Eventually they did so, walking slowly towards Bryson's car. Swiftly he darted to it, under cover of other parked vehicles, and slipped onto the floor behind the back seat, pulling the fluffy travel rug, with its jacquard weave of petunias and kittens, over himself. He wasn't sure why he was hiding, but he suspected that it would be better to corner the AD on his own, and possibly without any of the strange clones knowing that they had met.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
All his life Anson had been unlucky.
Money slipped through his fingers, and so did love. He'd grown used to fading into the background. He'd become intimate with deception, and had long since dispensed with a conscience. He'd stolen; he'd beaten, he'd killed, and he'd cheated until it seemed as though that was who he was. Anson Greene - sleazebag...And yet, suddenly something seemed to be going right for him.
It was only a couple of days since he'd blown into town on a seeming whim, and his life had changed forever.
Methos....
Methos was gorgeous, sexy and kind. Methos was the sort of man that, if you found him, you hung onto him forever.
Methos had said he loved him... HIM. Anson Greene. Mr. Disaster.
One thing he knew was that he loved Methos. He felt the center of his body dissolve in warm, tickly heat whenever the old guy looked at him, and when he smiled... Oh, God.
So, being in love, Anson was trying to come to terms with what he was for the first time in his life. Methos had asked him to call Victor's room, and having done that, Anson hurried back to Methos' side, shivering with delight at the heated look his lover gave him, and pressing up close to the man's side.
"I love you." It was barely a whisper, but Methos seemed to catch it, and turned to smile into Anson's eyes.
Christ. He didn't know if this was good or bad. He only knew that it was inescapable. From now on, he would follow wherever the old guy led him. Currently, that seemed to be back up to the suite where he and Methos had first gotten to know each other. He smiled to himself as he caught sight of the hot tub, and memories flooded in.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
The phone rang, arousing Mac from the sweet, post-coital sleep he'd fallen into. Grumbling, he groped for the phone, and pulled it to his ear, snuggling up to Victor as he did so, Vic made a small, contented sleep sound and nuzzled into the bedcovers.
"Ramsey."
A voice that was a dead ringer for Vic's said, "We're gathering in suite 1013 to watch a few movies and talk about the things that are happening. I thought that you ought to join us."
"Is that Tom?"
"No. You haven't met me yet. My name's Anson. Tom told us about Victor, and we thought that you should be in on the discussions. They asked me to phone you, that's all."
"Thanks, man. We'll be there shortly."
Hanging up the phone, Mac rolled over onto Vic, kissing him as he held him tight.
"Come on, lover. Time's a-wasting. We've got work to do."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Another knock on the door, and Mac Ramsey strode in, grinning massively, followed by Victor Mansfield, who was not grinning at all.
There was a general milling of assorted personnel, and then the party of look-a-likes all appeared to drift off up towards the elevators. Catching hold of Cory, Alex asked, "Where are you guys all going? I needed to talk to you."
Cory led him up to the penthouse suite and opened the door. They were all there, in fact there seemed to be another couple of guys he hadn't seen before, one a tall, dark, sulky looking guy, and his companion, who bore the now familiar face of a clone.
Sitting in the corner of the room Anson watched them all troop in. Methos, Dustin, Cory, Matthew, Tom, Dave...
Introductions were already being performed. This seemed to be Victor Mansfield and his partner, whose name was Mac Ramsey. Alex hung back near the door, pressed for time, until Methos spotted him and called out to him.
"Hey, Methos. It's important that we get everyone to the meeting point for a conference. It's happening at Skip Brule's compound, and even if you don't come, your pretty boyfriend needs to be there, and so does Cory." He gave Methos directions and began to sidle to the door. "Please get your buns in gear. It's important that we get together as soon as we can and hash out a way of saving their lives... mine too, actually." "I have to go. Hobbes is sick, and I need to get him to a place where he can have medical attention without being vulnerable to attack.
"Let's go. We don't have a lot of time."
As the clone Dustin had come to think of as "James Bond guy-Alex" came sauntering into his room, Dustin looked over his shoulder. "Oh... hi there." He grinned. "Back from some new adventure? Well, maybe you can tell us about it..." He stretched on the couch, having lay down to relax.
At Alex's words, grumbling, Dustin got up and followed Alex to the elevator. He took his movies with him, as well as the briefcase he took everywhere. Catching up to Alex, he said, "You just took off with no warning, and then pop back into the hotel and expect us to follow you? What's up?"
Alex shrugged.
Dustin still didn't get it, but he wondered if Alex maybe had some ideas as to the presence of so many look-a-likes. If sci-fi had the possibility of answers...
He looked at Alex. "You don't seem too surprised at all of us look-a-likes running around. You never did, actually. Something you'd like to share?"
He watched Alex as he pretended to fish around in his briefcase for his laptop.
Alex didn't answer the question, "Let's go, we don't have a lot of time."
Dustin halted in the lobby and said, "I think I will wait for the others. We will need more cars, in any case. I can hustle them up if I have to."
Alex just nodded and said, "Try your best. I can't take any more time to worry about them.
Alex gathered up Fox, Hobbes and Scully and headed for the car saying, "Okay, that bunch will follow in their own good time. Skinner has the directions too so let's just head out. Remember Hobbes, Wraith is there too, if that means anything."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Anson had watched as Alex hurried out of the room to go back down to the car followed by Dustin. The one armed man had called him pretty in a dismissive sort of way, and he wasn't sure that he liked that. He took a deep breath and glanced at Methos. He wouldn't mind, surely...
"Where are Alex and Dustin going?"
"They've gone on to Skip's compound. Alex seemed really anxious to get Hobbes there. He seemed to be sick." Cory knew what had happened.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Matthew looked around the room and sighed. He'd been the third wheel before, but the ninth seemed a bit much. If he was reading this right, there was Anson and Methos -- so, okay, that one wasn't hard. Anson was looking at Methos with puppy dog eyes and Methos had a very possessive air about him. The doctor wanted the mountain climber and McLaren didn't seem particularly adverse. But not completely accepting either. Dustin and Cory had a vibe going between them and everything about the two newcomers shouted lovers.
Well, damn. That made him the ninth wheel, with eight other guys; five of who looked enough like him to be his brothers.
Suddenly, Matthew became aware of someone standing close to his left. Glancing in that direction, he met Cory's amused eyes.
Blushing slightly, Matthew admitted, "I'm feeling a bit superfluous at the moment."
Matthew -- thinking belatedly that curiosity could get him into a situation here.
"Guys, I think it's time for us to go find out what this is all about. I vote that we go to this compound and see what we can discover." Anson fell backwards, blushing a little at the thought that he had been so forward. "Will you come with me?" he asked Methos. The old man didn't speak; he merely put one long arm around Anson's waist and pulled him close, kissing him gently before turning to address Cory over his shoulder.
"I think we'd better go as well. Alex doesn't scare easily, but something is making him nervous. Come on, guys. Play later, when we get to Skip's."
He moved to the door, opened it and led Anson through and down the corridor.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
What the fuck? Ricky swore to himself.
Walter Skinner with a strange lustful smirk on his face emerged from the lobby of the nearest building. He appeared to be leaning on the arm of Denise Bryson who had on fish net stockings, a mink coat....(figured that the bitch would be into fur.) A gap in the coat revealed traces of black lace. Ricky found his eyes trying to peer deeper into the dark secrets hidden by the folds of fur. Hey, he knew she was a bitch, but she WAS a sexy bitch...
Drugged, Ricky knew that was the answer. Bryson had dropped some date rape drug into Skinner's drink and was now luring him off to ravish him. A good idea, but she could have invited Ricky...
"Come on, sir. You look...strange... stressed. I'll give you a massage and then you can get some rest." Denise led the AD to his rental car and held out her hand for the keys.
Horace was dizzy with need, greed, and lust. Denise might last for days and then she had friends it appeared. Friendship was a lovely thing; sweet prey lured one after the other. Nothing like swatting lovers, hugging hot lovers...
Collapsing into the interior of her car, Horace gave directions to the place he had retained from a recent victim. It was a sound insulated pornography studio, complete with living quarters above and torture implements below. There was even a camera so he could keep the sentimental memories when he had nibbled the last nectar from the peachy skin of darling Denise.
Once she had the directions, she set off, and soon they'd reached the property whose address she'd been given. It was small, but neat, and seemed to fit the AD.
Well, a new distraction. A burly motorcycle rider laid a resounding slap onto the gamin face of his underage looking companion. The girl, wearing more piercings and tattoos then clothing, ducked and whimpered. She already had a black eye and purple markings on her cheek.
Okay, he needed wheels and this looked like divine justice, Ricky style.
"Pick on someone your own size," Ricky yelled.
"Yeah, like you?" the man, who was possessed of red tangled hair merging with red tangled beard and had as much body hair as a gorilla, asked. He swung, trying for a sucker punch.
Ricky hadn't grown up on a side of town so bad that even the bums called it the wrong side of the tracks for nothing. He came up on his toes and put enough frustrated power into the fist to knock out a mule. It was good enough for this ass.
Fascinated, Ricky watched the guy walk around in a dazed circle and then fall. Glass jaw, too cool. He grabbed the girl and said, "Take my advice. Go home. Go to a shelter, but don't go back to that creep."
Ricky dropped the waif a few blocks away, a twenty in her hand and an admonishment to think ringing in her ears. Ricky was better at giving advice than taking it.
The motorcycle made it easy to keep up with Skinner. The two didn't seem to be going to Skinner's apartment. Maybe it was to Denise's place? Ricky didn't know what he intended to do, but improvisation was his strong point. He'd figure it out when he got there.
"You live here, sir?" trilled Denise, trying to divine a little of the stern man's character. Unspeaking, he opened the door and gestured for her to enter. As she did so, she trailed her fingers down his face. He was such a sweet man.
"Now, you slip into something comfortable and I'll give you that massage that I promised you."
Tin Man had had a stressful period, and the motion of the car and his recumbent posture on the floor behind the front seats had rocked him off to the equivalent of android sleep. It was several minutes after the car had become motionless before he realized that they had arrived at their destination. Throwing off the warm rug, he arose and went to the door. He was about to knock, but stopped, remembering that Skinner was the only human he could trust. The rest were weird, strange, and unreliable. Skinner had a strong, commanding, incorruptible presence. It went against his forthright nature, but nevertheless he went round the back and climbed in through a window. Somehow he had to talk to Skinner alone.
His charming smile more of a crocodile's hungry leer, Horace handed the drink to Denise. He said, "You really don't know what your company means to me..."
Sadly, Skinner seemed to have been seduced by Agent Bryson's perverted seductions. He spied on them, awaiting his chance. When he handed her a drink, and turned away to fetch his own, Tin Man seized his opportunity.
"Psssst," he hissed. "Skinner. I need you!"
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
The six Mac's watched in astonishment as Ricky picked a fight with a biker, knocked him out and took off on his bike with a girl.
Alexei turned to Sasha and said, "Well I guess that leaves us on our own. Let's load these guys into the van and dump them at the monument as ordered." Looking at the two colourful Mac's he said, "Help us load and strip these guys. Make sure not to leave any weapons behind."
With the help of the two rescued androids, Sasha, Alexei, Jules and Romeo hefted the five men into the back of the van with the strange weapons. Alexei took the wheel while Sasha, with the fumbling help of the two young droids, began stripping the men of their armour and weapons. "Do you two have names? Sasha asked, lightly tapping the conscious man upside the head when he put up a struggle.
The purple haired vision said, "Yes, my name is Youngblood Hawke and that is Wild Thing. We are members of a rock band called Beau Monde. We just joined the group and were celebrating but we got separated after the party and were heading back to the club."
"Are the others in the group I-Macs?" asked Sasha.
"No, they are human but they liked us because we can synthesize music and make the band sound bigger," said Wild Thing.
"How did you end up meeting the band?" Sasha had finished stripping the men naked and duct taped their mouths, hands and feet.
"We ran away from the lab at Innobotics. Pendrell made us but could not protect us when we were discovered. He told us what to do if there were trouble and how to escape the lab so we did. But once we were out we couldn't find him. A nice boy and girl we met on the street took us to meet the band and did our hair and helped us pick out suitable clothes," answered Youngblood Hawke.
Jules, Romeo and Sasha took a moment to look over those *suitable* clothes. Youngblood was all mauve coloured satin and Wild Thing in pale green satin. Elvis Presley jump suits in neon coloured satin. Sasha shook his head. Just looking at them made him feel old.
The van came to a stop and in moments Alexei opened the rear doors. The five androids each with a naked burden climbed the steps to the Washington Monument and dumped the men. Returning to the van there was a slight squabble over who was going to sit in front with Alexei. Sasha lost to Wild Thing who grinned as he hopped into the passenger seat. Youngblood Hawke and Sasha climbed into the back with Jules and Romeo and made themselves comfortable as the van took off. Alexei was driving very carefully through the city limits not wishing to be stopped. Once passed the outskirts he put the pedal to the metal and headed for Skip's.
Safe back inside the compound they handed over the van and went into the house only to be met by an excitable I-Mac who was looking for Langly. He told them there had been a big fight between Baines and Wraith and that Baines had been injured. Leaving Jules and Romeo to look after the two newcomers, Alexei and Sasha rushed to Baines' room only to find it empty. Wandering the halls they saw Dr. Eugene going into another room and followed on his heels to ask him where they could find Leigh. Once inside the room they spotted Leigh and noting that he seemed fine and was eating they waited till the doctor had grabbed a plate and a chair before going up to ask Leigh if he was all right.
Baines was happy to see them back safe from wherever Ricky had dragged them. "Where did you guys go off to and where is Ricky?" he asked around a mouthful of potatoes.
Drawn by the chocolate cake, Alexei and Sasha started helping themselves as Alexei answered Leigh's question. "We went to rescue a couple of I-Mac's. Five armed men were attacking them. After we disabled the men, Ricky attacked a young man and stole his motorcycle and his girl and took off without explanation. We dumped the men at the Washington Monument and came straight home. We were told you were injured fighting Wraith."
Leigh nodded and got up to get himself a cup of coffee limping slightly. "Well not exactly. I got between Jess and Wraith and accidentally got bitten."
"Bitten?"
"It's a long story and Jess is about to give us a run down on what happened and it's ramifications. So make yourselves comfortable." He returned to his chair and the two androids followed and sat on the floor, one on each side of his chair.
"So I guess the question is where to start." Jess took a deep breath and resettled on the bed. She started speaking in a measured voice, afraid if she didn't continue, she wouldn't be able.
"Now whether I'm considered a 'real' werewolf or not is up to debate. I wasn't bitten by a werewolf. My genetic structure was altered in a lab to give me many of the skills associated with werewolves, so they used that word as a convenient label. And you can forget a lot of the crap you've learned in werewolf movies - blood dripping pentagrams appearing on your next victim and so on. The things that they seemed to get right is that I... we are heavily influenced by the moon's phases, that lycanthropy is spread through blood/saliva contact, and that silver is deadly. There are also a few things the movies left out. Let me hit each of those areas before we get into specific questions."
"There are two ways to shape shift, or Change as we called it. The first is what most people think of - Changing with the full moon. It's completely involuntary, and as instinctive as breathing. The first few times it happens, you may not even realize what's going on. It seems like a dream. The second kind is a voluntary Change, like what happened today. Those take mental discipline to start, and even trickier to halt and reverse. It took me about a year to learn how to do it, and another year to refine it. Both can hurt like hell, depending on the circumstances. Sometimes your human perspective is in control once Changed, sometimes a wolf's. Usually it's a blend of both."
"Also, with the ability to Change come two other talents, as well as a price. Rapid healing, as Dr. Sands witnessed. You can be pretty much dead and come back. May take some time, but you will heal up. You'll find your diet changes slightly - you'll find yourself craving a lot more protein, especially rare or raw meat. It will be hard to gain weight because the Change kick starts your metabolism into high gear. And don't ask my why or how, but Changing adds to your height and weight. About 2 feet and 200 lbs on average. Your overall fitness level increases as well, more obviously when you are Changed, but I've noticed changes in my strength and stamina even when human."
"The other talent, which is almost always present in varying degrees, is telepathic ability. Mind speech is what we called it. Whether it was an accident or deliberate on the part of the scientists, I don't know. But it allows a werewolf to mentally communicate with another. We can hold a conversation with words, or we can project images to each other. Makes it so much easier to communicate, because I can't talk when Changed. It's always been werewolves I've done this with. Never had two-way communication with a human or a Mac 27, and I don't think it would be possible, unless they're mind readers of some sort. The side effect affect of mind speech is that if you concentrate hard enough, you can read a human mind. I always have severe migraines afterwards, and it's so difficult to do it's usually not worth it. Mac 27s are a completely closed book. Johnny and I have tried several times, always failing. There's always also the possibility that if you are reading a mind, you can become 'lost' and permanently entangled in the other personality. That's the other reason I don't do it. The risk is too high."
"On to the deadly stuff. Basically, there's only two ways we can be killed. Decapitation and blood/silver contact. Decapitation's pretty obvious, so I won't go over it. But the silver allergy is rather insidious. I... we can handle silver objects no problem. It won't burn a scar into my skin, or glow red hot when I'm around. Crucifixes, holy water, and other religious relics? Nope, don't harm me. But if silver in any form comes into contact with my blood, it sets off a reaction anaphylaxis, only more severe. Also, I'd start bleeding and the wound wouldn't heal. So depending on the size of the cut, I die due to either to blood loss or an allergic reaction."
"Third and really important - transmission. The Change is always transmitted directly by blood to saliva contact. I can't spit on you and Change you, unless I'm doing it into an open wound. Handling my blood should be about as safe as handling anybody's blood. I've never heard of any. Whatever it is that passes it on, it's in my spit. Also, it's not sexually transmittable. But, a child born to a werewolf and human parents has a one in four chance of being a werewolf."
"I know that's a lot of information to throw at you at once, but that's all I can think off the top of my head. Does anyone have any questions?"
Baines thought for a moment and asked, "Does being bitten always transform or is it possible that I won't?
Jess cocked an eyebrow at Johnny. Her knowledge was limited more to first hand experience, where Johnny had her medical files and some of the experiment's records resident in memory. "There is a slight chance that you have not been Changed," Johnny responded, "however it is unlikely that you haven't been infected."
"Will I be dangerous to anyone around me the first time or any subsequent time immediately after transformation?"
Both Jess and Johnny shrugged. "That's hard to say," Jess said. "I was extremely violent, but then I didn't have anyone around to help me.
"How many werewolves do you know? "
"There were ten of us, five males, five females." Jess rested her chin on interlaced fingers. "I was the dominant female, the alpha bitch. There was some question as to whether the alpha male or I was top dog, but the scientists considered us too valuable to put that to a potentially fatal test. As far as I know, they're all dead."
"Tonight is a full moon, will it happen this soon?" Baines dogged pursuing.
Jess nodded. "I already feel a bit... different. If you're going to Change, you'll start showing signs as darkness falls, but won't actually Change until the moon rises."
"If I bite someone while in human form will it also transmit the virus or whatever it is called?"
"Yes," Johnny affirmed. "It's something you'll secrete at all times.
"Will I have to be alone during the first transformation? I want Michael, Alexei and Sasha to see it happen. If I have to be alone we will have to find some way for them to watch without endangering them."
Jess shook her head. "No you won't, Leigh. I'll be there since I will be Changing as well. But I'm not sure it's wise to have others in the same room, if you have a violent reaction."
Johnny turned to Eugene. "Are there a set of adjoining rooms with a window or a one way mirror that we can use?"
Baines suddenly laughed and said, "I guess you must lose a lot of clothes. I guess the motto is be prepared or you might find yourself far from home naked hmmm." He turned to Michael and said, "I guess you will have to carry a gym bag everywhere we go with a spare set of underwear at the very least."
Michael grinned back at him tremulously, "Yeah, I can see me following picking up dropped weapons too."
"Shit, I guess till I learn to control this thing I had better leave my leather kit holders off. They were individually tailored for my arms, legs, and waist and I would have a heck of time replacing them."
"Hey, if you can turn wolfie in any dangerous situation you won't need to carry so many knives and guns." teased Michael.
Jess laughed. "Michael, you have no idea how many times I've been on all fours and was wishing for a knife, or a gun, or even a rolled up newspaper. Oh that reminds me, animals will react negatively towards you at first. I don't know if you saw Boris, Aura, or Sappho, but they all growled at me until I reassured them. Take a little time to make friends and let them smell you. It pays off in the long run." She sat back on the bed. "Any other questions?"
Alexei and Sasha were silent but communed together. They accessed their data banks for information on wolves. Alexei pointed out to Sasha, "Army life is something like a pack with rankings. Baines is used to living closely with a small close knit group that ranks from alpha to omega so this should not be a difficult adjustment in that area."
Baines sat back in his chair and stared at the floor for a long time before looking back up at Jess. "I feel itchy all over. And horny as hell, which I shouldn't considering we ah um...anyway that is what I'm feeling right now. So let us all just assume that I am going to change. First priority is finding a suitable room. Alexei would you go and ask Skip if he has anything like an interrogation room preferably one with at least a door with a heavy glass partition. I'm still hungry so I think more food is in order. Sasha would you mind bringing a couple of rare steaks and more of those great fried potatoes with swiss cheese. Oh, one more point, I want this kept between us for the time being. The fewer people who know the safer I am going to feel. Wraith's attitude, though extreme, is not an uncommon one. People tend to fear the strange and what they fear they try to destroy. Until Jess' transformation in the driveway no one knew about her. It is probably all over the compound by now. There will be speculation about me too. Every human I ever met has seen at least one werewolf movie. But until I am up to speed I want it to be just that, speculation. I want Jess kept safe until we know which way people will jump on this new knowledge." His green eyes flashed as he looked around the group. "Also, Johnny, I know that what you know will be available to most of the Macs but put it to the rest of them that they are to answer NO questions by humans or others until further notice. Eugene if you must discuss this with Rodney make sure he is clear on keeping it to himself."
Alexei and Sasha got up and left the room.
Eugene nodded and said, "I want to glance in on Wraith and then check on Rodney. I will join you to watch the transformation. I wish there were time for us all to have a nap first." With that he too got up and left the room.
Baines shifted and squirmed in his chair, a very unusual thing for a man who was preternaturally still most of the time. He finally said to Jess, "I guess we have as much information as we need. I am assuming from what you said that the no nipping rule starts now. I am also assuming that you will know to the minute when I should be isolated, so what I want to do is take the food and Michael back to our room. Either send someone for us or, if they can't find a suitable room, come yourselves."
Jess nodded and watched the lithe figure get up and pull Michael to his feet. She could see the restlessness twitching in him and sympathized. As he started to leave the room she said, "I estimate you have no more than four hours."
He just nodded and went out to intercept Alexei the way back to his room.
Michael followed Baines out of the room. The man moved with liquid grace ahead of him and Michael wondered if it came naturally. They were Approximately the same age but he felt so much younger. Sometimes when Leigh moved unexpectedly his military training showed. Strange to think that he would become a wolf when he prowled like a cat. Michael felt desire surfacing. It was the first time he felt arousal without Leigh's hands on him.
They met Alexei returning from his errand to Skip and he told them there was a room that would fit their requirements. The three of them caught up with Sasha as he came out of Mac Smith's domain arms laden with trays. Alexei and Michael each took one and they all continued on to Leigh's room. At the door, Leigh looked over the trays and rearranged some of the plates leaving most of the sweets on one for the two androids. He looked at them apologetically and said, "I hope you guys don't mind waiting out here again."
The two smiled back and shook their heads. Michael followed Leigh into the bedroom and watched him strip off everything and climb into the bed. He pulled the covers up to his waist and repositioned one of the trays on his lap and proceeded to eat quickly and efficiently. Michael slipped off his shoes and sat beside him fully dressed. He picked at some of the vegetables that somehow had found their way onto the plate. Finally he put the tray on the bedside table and turned to sit cross-legged facing Leigh.
"Aren't you the least bit frightened? I would be terrified."
Leigh grinned up at him. "Of course I'm scared. Be stupid not to be. But the world doesn't have to know it. In this world there is no use in kicking against the pricks. Only hurts yourself and those around you. It's going to happen so I might as well make the best of it."
Michael's breath caught at his beauty, and his chest ached with the surge of possessiveness that seemed to overtake him every time he looked at Baines.
Leigh's face was both wicked and angelic with its bright emerald eyes, long thick lashes, high cheekbones, pink bow lips, snub nose, and slightly pointed ears. Michael had watched that face display many moods. Moods that Leigh only showed when they were alone. Generally, in public, Leigh's face was expressionless. He could even keep his eyes unreadable. So self-contained elsewhere he opened up for Michael by turns tender, teasing, and lustful.
Michael's eyes traveled down Leigh's body noting the scars, which marred the display of muscle beneath the surface. So many newly healed scars. He reached over and ran a finger softly down one long one. Baines held still and watched him his eyes hooded, his cheeks flushed.
"I never thought I would ever say this to a man but you are beautiful Leigh. So beautiful."
His voice husky, Baines asked, "Don't you find the scars ugly? They are all over my body."
"Battle scars, badges of honor. They are not ugly to me." Michael lifted the tray off the bed and shifted to place it beside the other. He leaned over and gently kissed Leigh. Then he got off the bed and removed his own clothing and climbed under the covers and cuddled up to the waiting man and murmured, "so brave."
Leigh wrapped himself around Michael and began kissing and licking him.
Michael squirmed and whispered, "would you like to make love to me?"
Leigh froze and pulled back to look into wide green eyes. "Michael, we don't need to do that."
"I want to. I want it now before you change." His eyes closed. "II'm afraid that I will be more afraid after to.my first timeto." He couldn't finish.
"Shhhh, I understand. I think I might be afraid too. Who knows how much control I will have of any aspect of myself. I want to make love to you."
"Then do it."
Baines pushed Michael onto his back and reached over to open the side table drawer looking for the ever-present tube of lube. He draped himself over Michael and began kissing him gently careful of his teeth. Moving to Michael's neck he sucked softly on the throbbing artery before licking down to the collarbone. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once caressing all the spots his mouth missed as he worked his way down Michael's body. Michael watched as Leigh's mouth opened and took in his cock. He moaned.
Leigh pulled back and kissed and lapped the head as he lifted Michael's legs over his arms and began stroking his balls and perineum.
He squeezed lube onto his fingers before penetrating Michael's rectum slowly with one finger spreading slippery stuff over and into the entrance. Michael whimpered softly and Leigh stopped his hand movement. Michael pushed back with his hips and Leigh took the hint and began stroking in and out moving the finger in deeper with each stroke until the digit was fully embedded in Michael's ass then he twisted it and Michael shrieked. Leigh's eyes smiled at him as his lips smiled around Michael's cock. He pulled his finger out and pushed two in to widen the opening.
Again he stroked across Michael's prostate and this time Michael pushed back against the fingers and up into Leigh's mouth trying to fuck himself both ways. Leigh pulled out and pushed in three fingers ever so slowly back and forth in the tiniest of increments as Michael panted.
Leigh gave the cock one last kiss and straightened his back and lifted Michael's hips onto his knees. Slowly he pressed the head of his cock against the opening and pushed in. Michael gasped and Leigh held still. Michael grabbed the sheets in both fists and pushed back taking more in. Leigh began to move again very slowly.
Leigh began to move faster. Michael was moaning continuously when he wasn't emitting the occasional whimper. Leigh was watching every expression and Michael stared back wide-eyed. Sweat was rolling off Leigh as he drove deeper. He changed the angle of thrust and Michael gave a loud cry. Sliding a hand across Michael's belly Leigh grasped his now rigid cock and began stroking in time to his thrusts. Michael's body began to tremble visibly, his head thrown back, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets. Michael began to whine deep in his throat as he felt his orgasm build and then come crashing down on him, spurts of white liquid arcing over his chest, the muscles in his ass clenching tight around the intruder. Leigh threw back his head gasping for air as his own release was dragged from him.
Trembling and panting he held very still waiting for his erection to subside before slowly withdrawing from Michael's body and letting his legs slide down. Swiping Michael's chest carelessly with the corner of a sheet he lowered himself gently onto the other man.
Michael buried his face in Leigh's neck, tears leaking from his eyes.
"You okay," whispered Leigh.
"Yeah, m'okay. S'good."
Leigh slid to one side and pulled Michael into his arms murmuring unintelligible endearments. They dozed until a knock came on the door.
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Hobbes didn't know when it happened but he was in the back seat of Alex's car with Mulder. The other man seemed to be quiet most of the time, staying on his side of the car but every once in a while he would throw a glance Hobbes way.
Hobbes however wasn't feeling well. His stomach turned, his head ached and he just wanted to lie down. But they were so close to Wraith his body was excited. Maybe that was why he was sick. He tired to rest his eyes by closing them.
Fox hoped they'd soon be at the compound. Hobbes looked very pale, and he thought he might faint, but slowly he fell asleep. Thinking that it might help if he could sleep awhile, and worried that the swaying of the car would jolt him awake, Fox gently eased him over to lie in his lap.
Within a short time Fox knew his caring impulse had been a big mistake. The state he'd been left in after the earlier session in the bedroom with Hobbes and Alex, and the feel of that warm head rubbing against his crotch was making his cock feel like it was on fire.
He turned his head slightly into the strokes and a small moan left his lips. The aroma around him was intoxicating, was that coming from Mulder? It kind of reminded him of Alex or even Wraith.
Great, thought Fox, he's waking up, and how's he going to feel knowing he's using my boner for a pillow. Florence Nightingale must be turning in her grave.
Before he knew it, he had woken some time later with is head on Fox's lap and the man was stroking his short blond hair. He was still half asleep, not really sure where he was at the point other than in the car and could hear Alex talking to someone.
Hobbes placed a hand on the leg below his head and just left it there. Why, he didn't know, maybe it was just comforting. "Where are we?" came his whispered question.
Fox stroked his head again. "We've arrived," he said. "I think this is where your friends are... but Alex has all the information. You'll have to talk to him."
As Alex's car pulled up beside the gatehouse of Skip's compound, Alex hoped that the information he had been given by David was accurate, and not merely a ruse to get him out of the way.
The Mac 27s that peered into the car seemed interested in all the occupants, inspecting both him and Fox in particular.
"We're here to see Skip. Could you pass on the message on to One that Alex Krycek is here with three companions? Mulder, Scully and Hobbes."
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