The Game 28
Edited by Karen Leigh
Hobbes lay in his dream world, not hearing a word of what was going on around him. He was too busy being flooded with memories; for once the chip was removed his memories of Harsh Realm; his past all came flooding around him. He struggled to gain control of them, to sort them out; file them back to where they came from.
He remembered being separated from his beloved before they were to be married, being thrown into Harsh Realm, a word ruled by the man called Santiago. His mission was to take him out so he could end The Game and go home. There in that world he met Pinocchio who told him there was no way to win, you can't kill what won't die he used to say. Then his beloved Sophie, the VC version being shot by his best friend Waters now working for Santiago.
The adventures he went through in that hell, seeing his mother die, his friends nearly killed, trying so hard to get out but yet failing each time. He remembered the hope he had, the letters he wrote to Sophie saying how he would return to her one day.
Then his world went blank, beyond a certain point, his mind could not or would not remember what happened to him, only pain, a great deal of pain. He slowly began to wake, finding himself face down on a table in strange clothing. Was he still in Harsh Realm? Where was Pinocchio, Florence... even Dexter his dog for that matter?
He turned his head and slowly looked around to see the red head by him. "Where... where am I?" He finally voiced, dazed and confused.
Scully quickly laid a cool hand on his forehead. "You're safe. Don't try to get up. You've been under the influence of a drug, which was given to you over a long period of time. You are suffering from withdrawal. We don't know who administered it to you yet, or even what it is, but I can assure you that you're safe here, and no one wants to hurt you. I also had to remove a chip that was implanted in your neck. It was quite possibly affecting your behavior. Don't touch the stitches; they're very fresh. Here," and she reached into her pocket and held up the chip in the glass tube for him to see.
"Are you thirsty, you really should drink something. She held up a glass of water.
Hobbes sat up and took the glass from her, "What is this place?" His voice was softer, his face did not have that hardened look to it like before, and it was more... innocent. "What do you mean," he held up the glass tube, and stared at it. "Santiago..." came the whispered as he looked at it. "He must have put this in me... but when? How? Pinocchio, have you seen him, man, soldier, blue eyes, blond hair, kind of rough looking?"
He handed Scully the glass back after he finished it.
She shook her head. "I'm sorry. We only just arrived here a little while ago, with you delirious in the car. There might someone here though who can help you. I can try to find out, but I've lost track of my partner and there's been another injury somewhere in this compound that I should check out. You really should stay here and rest. Don't worry; I'm sure we'll find your friend. He might be here, in fact. Try to drink some more water, okay? I'll be back to check on you."
Hobbes lay back down after drinking some more water, feeling alone, lost and confused. He kept noticing the same guy going past the door but in different clothing. He tilted his head then climbed off the bed. He walked to the door and watched as several copies of the same man passed.
What the heck was going on? He walked back to the bed, "I must be still delirious." He said to himself as he climbed back onto the bed. He lay back down, resting his head on the pillow trying to remember how he got here and the large blank spot in his memory. He could not rest. Finally, he got up and went to find Wraith.
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Sypher walked over to Wraith and stood tall. "I have no agenda, save the preservation of life--all life. I carry proof that your handlers have lied to you and misled you for their own purposes, and that they themselves are being lied to. There is a threat much bigger than the one your masters know about waiting out there, and the only means of stopping it lies here. If you are as committed to saving the human race and life on this planet as you claim to be, then subdue your rage and allow your intellect to work for a change. Now is the time for gathering intelligence, not kicking ass. Understand?"
Sypher's attention snapped over to Krycek after One's announcement about the cloning and Mac projects and she watched him with huge eyes and a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't possible; Krycek himself was a cl... She shut down the train of thought immediately. "This is all far from over between us, Mr. Krycek. You owe me an explanation for dragging me into this shit and I mean to have it."
"I? Drag you into it? I'm not sure what you've been drinking, but you ought to stop before it affects you any more. I'm just trying to get out of this mess without too much loss of life. If you care about that, then lose the attitude. If you don't, then what the fuck are you doing here?" He stood, visibly damping down his fury. "I did not need to come here. I am here because you summoned me, babe. That's YOU, not One, not David, nobody else. Now I'm here, you're playing hard to get. Where the hell do you get off? I was told that your life was in peril. I came to assist. It looks like you lied. Now, if you don't mind, I've lost my Fox, and I have a guy who is really sick lying unconscious in a room down the hall. Let me know if you suddenly decide that you're going to help instead of grandstanding."
He turned to One. "I hope that I can help, but if I can't, you better tell me quickly."
Sypher only added, "I will speak with you at my earliest convenience, Krycek. We never discussed terms for my services," in a cold, disinterested tone as the bastard glared at her. "Even useless information has to be paid for." A note of puzzlement from the Mac next to her brought Sypher back from her diatribe. The unit was clearly wondering how she'd known about his charge.
It was her eyes, Sypher answered the silent question the beautiful wolf's handler directed to her, they remind me of someone. Her secret's safe with me. I'd be more worried about Baines after this though. She would have liked to reach out to him as well, but kept her hands to herself. Not everyone had the same need for tactile reassurance that she did.
It's not that much of a secret. All the Mac 27s and probably half the humans know about her, Johnny transmitted back. It's Baines' condition that we are trying to keep as quiet as possible. Although he screened it out of his response, he felt a sense of admiration for Sypher. Not too many beings had recognized Jess in both forms without having been told about her abilities first.
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Jess sat beside the door, watching people go into the room. The sun had fully risen, and she couldn't hold back any longer. She clenched her teeth and hissed as the Change began. It hurt just as much going from wolf to human. Hissing in pain, she reared up onto her hind legs, placing her a forepaw against the wall for balance. Her tail retracted as the instep of her feet shortened. Fangs blunted into teeth and claws became nails on human fingers again.
She gave a deep sigh and looked up, to see Michael staring right at her. He looked away blushing, faintly embarrassed at being caught. "It's okay, Michael. I'm used to people seeing me undressed," Jess said matter of factly, taking the tee shirt from him.
"I'm not, or at least not until the second date," Michael mumbled as she pulled the shirt over her head. He was curious about the heavy scarring on her upper chest. Some looked like knife marks, some like bite wounds. But he didn't think he knew her well enough yet to ask.
"Shh.." Jess admonished, stepping into the jeans. "I'm trying to listen." She could smell blood, but there hadn't been any sounds of violence. Until she was certain that there was a problem in there, she wasn't going to let the dislike between her and Wraith to an already tense situation. What Michael had brought was either his or Baines, so both the pants and the shirt were too large. But she was at least decently covered now, although if she had to make a fast move, she'd probably trip.
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"Here now, watch it with that crate, boy," Beauregard warned. "That's one valuable animal, one of the finest I've bred yet."
"Animal?" The bellman stepped back hastily. "Sorry sir, no pets allowed."
Ashley Beauregard smiled kindly at the man. "Check with your manager, young man. Ah think you'll find that arrangements have been made."
"Yes sir." The bellman tipped his hat and disappeared quickly.
Beau waited beside his Land Rover, unwilling to leave his puppy to whatever marauders might wander by. He'd spent near ten years perfecting this breeding, and no one, by god, was gonna get their hands on this fine example of the Gordon Setter breed. He had a buyer waiting - carefully vetted, of course - and would be delivering the pup on the morrow.
"Hush now, dahlin'" he soothed the puppy when it started whimpering. "Not long now. We'll be in our room and you can have a bite to eat."
The manager came bustling out and greeted Beau in an effusive manner. "Mr. Beauregard, so sorry for the misunderstanding. Please, come on in - Charles here will take care of your luggage."
Beau frowned. "If y'all don't mind, ah believe ah'll keep the pup with me. She's a little skittish, bein' away from her momma and all."
"Of course, of course," The manager agreed.
Lifting the kennel, Beau followed the manager into the lobby. "Ah'll just go check in now. And, Ah sure do appreciate y'all takin' such good care of us."
"It's no problem, Mr. Beauregard," the manager hastened to reassure. "If you need anything - anything at all, please don't hesitate to contact me."
"I shall do so," Beau answered with a charming smile. "Though I don't think that'll be necessary. You appear to have a fine staff here, sir. A fine staff."
Formalities taken care of, Beau headed for the registration desk.
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"C'mon, Dustin," Cory said as he led the other man along. "I think Anson's right on this one."
"Well," Dustin frowned, but followed. "I suppose if we stand any chance of figuring out what's going on, we'd best tag along."
Vic and Mac shrugged at each other and wordlessly agreed to join the exodus.
Tom turned towards the door, and then glanced back at Dave. "You are coming with us... Aren't you?"
In the face of that appeal, how could he resist? Not that any of this concerned him - but, he did want to stick close to Tom. And, hell, everyone else in town appeared to have one of these clones - why not him, too?
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Dave answered with a grin. "Matthew?" He asked, looking at the newcomer.
With an unbelieving shake of his head, Matthew joined the party. "What the hell?" he mumbled to no one in particular.
They rode down in the rather crowded elevator, bodies brushing up against each other. No one seemed to mind the close quarters.
Once in the lobby, Methos headed for the concierge to ask that the vehicle he'd rented be brought around. Damn good thing he'd gotten a van. After handing over his claim ticket, he turned and leaned against the desk, automatically scanning the other inhabitants of the lobby.
"Shit!" He straightened abruptly and stared at the man in the process of checking in. "Another one," he moaned when the man turned so that his profile was visible.
"What?" Cory craned his neck, looking around for the source of Methos' distress. "Damn - you're right. Look," he said to the group, pointing at the dapper figure at the desk.
Sensing the scrutiny, Beauregard turned and glanced around. He almost dropped his teeth when he saw the crowd staring at him from the concierge desk. Why, there were ... six, count 'em six replicas of himself standing there.
Gathering his resolve, Beau tightened his hold on the crate holding his puppy, Tallulah, and walked over to study the group more closely. "Gentlemen," he greeted urbanely. "Ah am Ashley Beauregard - and, Ah must confess to more than a little shock at finding such an ... interestin' collection of look-a-likes here today. Any of y'all care to explain?"
"I'm Methos. The others can introduce themselves in the car - we're just on our way out in the hopes of finding an explanation."
"Ah see," Beau said slowly. "Well, as long as y'all don't mind mah bringin' Tallulah along for the ride, Ah'd be happy to join you."
"Tallulah?" Cory asked suspiciously.
Beau held up the crate. "Mah dog. Finest breeding around. She's a good little gal - won't cause any trouble at all."
"Fine, fine," Methos muttered. "Why not?"
The van arrived at the front door and all ten men - plus one puppy - trooped out.
Being the holder of the keys, and of the rental agreement, Methos headed around to the driver's seat. Anson automatically - and with a mulishly stubborn look, daring anyone to argue - climbed into the passenger seat.
After much shuffling around, all the men settled into the van. Mac and Vic cuddling in the rear seat, Dustin and Cory seated together - sharing a low voiced conversation - and, after a wordless meeting of the eyes, Tom and Dave settled next to each other.
Beau watched the proceedings with no small amount of amusement. He turned to Matthew and said quietly, "Looks like we're a couple for the moment. Y'all don't have a problem with that, do you, boy?"
Smiling slightly and eyeing the seating arrangements, Matthew noted, "Doesn't much matter, does it?" When the stranger suddenly took a renewed intense interest in his puppy, Matthew regretted how his words had come out and tried again. "Beats being the odd man out, though."
They climbed in and Beau settled Tallulah safely at his feet. "Do you get the impression that we, being single, are in the minority?"
"Distinctly," Matthew agreed with a grin. "I was just thinking how weird it felt to be the ninth wheel in this group. Sort of a spare tire. Not a real ego-stroking self image, I have to admit."
Offering his hand, he continued, "I'm Matthew Seagull by the way. I'm a freelance writer and I was on assignment to catalog D.C. counterculture when I stumbled into," with a vague gesture to the van and its passenger, he concluded, "all this. What brings you and your puppy to D.C.?" Smiling more broadly, Matthew made sure his tone was light and nearly playful as he asked, "And can I pet her or is she too well bred for that?"
"Ah'm right pleased to meet you, Matthew," Beau beamed a smile at his new acquaintance. "Mah name is Ashley Beauregard, as I mentioned, been called Beau as long as I kin remember, though. Ah'm in town to deliver this here pup to her new owner."
"And yessir," reaching down he opened the crate and pulled Tallulah into his lap. "Y'all are most welcome to pet her. She's jest a darlin' little thing, dontcha think?"
Matthew offered his hand to the puppy to sniff. She tentatively did, but seemed nearly immediately satisfied, pushing her tiny head underneath his hand.
Laughing, Matthew murmured, "Demanding little thing, aren't you?"
In reply, the puppy licked the wrist of the hand that was petting her and launched her small frame into Matthew's lap, barking to announce her arrival.
Smiling ever wider, Matthew glanced back at Beau. "Demanding and fickle. She's a she all right."
A slight nip at Matthew's hand got his attention back where it belonged in the puppy's rather limited world view.
"Damn she's cute, though," Matthew admitted. "Better watch out, Beau, I might get tempted to make a run for it with your prize pup."
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No sooner had Skip managed the most pressing of his personal business; when he was called to the gate. In the constant hubbub, he had forgotten business as usual.
Now Skip was a scammer and a cynic, but he was also the kind of gambler who always kept an ace in the hole. The tenets of Bokonon was that all religion was foma, but just to be sure, Skip had the land blessed and warded once a week.
This entailed one Roman Catholic Priest, a Hindu Holy Man, a Jewish Rabbi, a Wicca Coven, a Mide' Pipe Bearer, a Buddhist nun, and a Quaker minister to pray, bless, smudge, or charm the entire temple and all of its grounds.
If Philip had been around, Skip would have had him snake charm the place as well.
Making sure that the werewolves would not be harmed by the various religious observances; Skip detailed the religious folk around the grounds. As his own contribution, he engaged in the sacred ritual of boku-maru, pressing his bare soles to those of Mac Smith. He breathed deep of the harmony of his temple and meditated on the life and probable deeds of the Innobotics men who had died in the night, victims of their own destiny and the wrath of aroused wolves.
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Beau grinned. "Well then, sir, Ah'd jest hafta chase the two of you down, wouldn't Ah?" He reached out a hand to ruffle Tallulah's fur. "Ahdo love this 'un. Her mama is one of mah best bitches - and her daddy is a stud dawg out of Ohio, bred by one of the best. We're both right pleased with the results of this breeding." He frowned. "Hafta dammit, Ah'm of two minds about lettin' this bitch go. It's good business - and the buyer has agreed to bring her back to me fer trainin' ... still, she's a special gal an' I purely hate to part with her."
A suspicious noise came from behind them and Beau turned his head enough to glance back at Cory and Dustin - the two seemed to be quite close. Quite close - and looking to get even closer. Beyond them, he could see Vic and Mac enjoyin' each other, kissin' and huggin' up a storm. In the center seat, Tom was looking decidedly embarrassed, while Dave appeared to be doin' his level best not to notice the carryin' on around them.
Turning back to Matthew, Beau grinned. "'Pears that our friends are rather ... friendly."
"You could say that," Matthew murmured, still smiling at the puppy. "And I believe you just did."
Eyes shifting briefly to Anson and Methos, Matthew leaned closer to Beau and pitched his voice for the dog breeder's ears only. "And it's the bucket seats and that hideous armrest thing between the two of them that's giving us a fighting chance of making it wherever we're going in one piece. They've got some serious chemistry. More so than the others, I think."
The squirming puppy reclaimed Matthew's attention as he added, "It's kind of nice, actually. They seem more ... I don't know ... something. But that could just be this hopeless romantic streak I've got running through me. My dad blamed my mom when I gave Susie Keller some daisies when I was eight, and expressed his disappointment at every opportunity that I never really outgrew it."
Lifting Tallulah with one hand under her chest, Matthew brought her head up to the level of his and asked, "What do you say, little lady, you want to run away with me?"
When she licked his face, he laughed. "I think that's a yes. What do you think, Beau?"
"Well now, Ah'd have to say that Tallulah has excellent taste in men. Tell me - if y'all don't mind, jest how do you feel about these male couples? Ah'm bisexual myself, y'know - wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable but, Ah am somewhat of a flirt."
Beau studied Matthew's face. Lordy mercy - he could go for this 'un in a large way ... "And, Ah'd purely love to flirt with you. Among other things.
Matthew felt his mouth drop open and Tallulah chose that moment to lick his face again, deftly slipping her tongue in his mouth. Startled, he sputtered and shifted the puppy so they were looking eye to eye. "That was awfully forward, Tallulah. Did Beau teach you that or was that something that your mom passed on through that weird intuitive shit that women do?"
Sliding his eyes to Beau, he saw indulgent eyes directed toward the puppy, but they became expectant again when they returned to Matthew.
Blushing, Matthew shrugged. "People are entitled to make their own choices about how to live their lives, Beau. I've always believed that -- even when my dad gave me shit about those daisies. And as for me, I like flirting. How obvious is that? I've been flirting with a puppy for Christ's sake and please don't go into what that says about me, Ok?"
With a sigh, a look at Tallulah, who yipped happily and licked his face again and a quick glance around the vehicle, Matthew continued, "But I can't say that I've ever truly flirted with a guy -- knowingly I mean.
Or had one flirt with me. So I guess I don't know how I'd feel about it, one way or the other." Grinning ruefully, he admitted, "So that was a longwinded way not to answer your question."
Beau grinned. Well, well, well. This boy had definite possibilities. He felt it incumbent on himself to help Matthew expand his horizons. As a gentleman, it was the very least he could do.
Moving just a tad closer to the other man, Beau casually slung an arm along the seatback - just barely brushing against Matthew's shoulders. "Well now, Ah wouldn't want to make any presumptuous moves here, friend. Tell you what ... let's jest take this nice and slow. If you're interested, that is. Ah'll back off anytime, Matthew," he added seriously. "Soon as you feel uncomfortable, you tell me."
Matthew had never been one to back away from new experiences or challenges, but he wasn't sure how he felt about this one. But there looked to be an infinite supply of guys that looked like him and not many women among them, so if he was going to go along ...
Well, there had been a petite red-haired woman -- a doctor -- with the guy in leather ... um ... Alex. And they were going where Alex was, so ... she might be there. The memory of how not smooth he'd been when he'd spoken to her made that possibility of some feminine companionship seem remote. But maybe he could pretend never to have met her before. How hard could that be? And maybe she wouldn't be there.
A whole room full of doubles instead of just a van full? That could take some getting used to. It had taken a few moments to adjust to all these guys. Remembering how he'd rolled his eyes at Methos' supposition of his interest in Cory, he had to admit that the way he was interacting with Beau seemed different. But, then again, it just might be his imagination.
Shaking his head slowly, Matthew pondered, but nearly immediately noted stiffness in Beau's posture. Even as he turned questioning eyes to the other man, he realized that Beau was reacting to the fact that he'd shaken his head. That certainly boded well for him being true to his word about stopping if things got too weird.
Taking a deep breath, he admitted, "I don't know whether I'm interested or not, Beau. I've got no context for this. But I do understand the concepts of nice, slow and uncomfortable, so ... I guess I'm ok. For now, anyway." To cover his mild unease, he gestured with the puppy and indulged his insatiable curiosity, "How long have you been breeding dogs?"
Recognizing and sympathizing with Matthew's unease, Beau withdrew his arm from the back of the seat. Give the boy some room "Well," he answered, grateful for the opening, "Ah've been trainin' and breedin' dogs for 'bout 15 years now. Man by the name of Basham introduced me to the Gordon breed - after that, there was no lookin' back. Ah jest love these animals."
He said he was 'okay' with this, didn't he?
Not sure jest how to go about flirting without scaring the man, Beau frowned in thought. "How 'bout you, Matthew ... any hobbies or interests? Ah suppose we should start by gettin' to know each other a little better - not," he hastened to assure, "in the biblical sense, y'all understand. Jest as potential friends." He reached over and stroked Tallulah's soft fur - careful to not touch Matthew, but wanting to be closer in some way.
Matthew chuckled and sighed, wondering just how skittishly he'd come across. You lived in the woods too long, Matthew. Time to start thinking city again. And to stop thinking about what had been left behind in favor of what he might find on the road ahead.
"Hobbies?" Matthew mused. "I don't know that I've got what you would call a hobby, but I'm interested in everything. I love to travel and see new things. Talk to people. Get different perspectives and try to understand the gestalt of the world a little better through their experiences as well as my own. Never spent much time with a dog breeder, though."
After pausing a moment to tease Tallulah by batting her on the nose, he looked up at her proud surrogate papa, grinned and asked, "So, what can you teach me, Beau?"
"Well now ... The possibilities are endless and varied, my friend. Tell ya what; let's start with mah dogs - and the southern culture. How's that?" Beau allowed himself to move just a tad closer, sending Matthew a hopeful smile.
Lord-a-mercy, he did so want this boy! Had to take it slow and easy, though. Wouldn't do to scare him off at this point - things looked to be shaping up nicely.
Endless and varied, huh? Matthew could feel himself responding to the implicit challenge in those words, holding his ground and returning Beau's smile.
"Those sound like good places to start. I don't know a whole lot about the Deep South or dogs, really, other than that I like them." A grin at Tallulah later, Matthew added, "And that I better give this one back to you before I start to get attached. Well," he admitted softly, "before I get more attached."
Knowing it was for the best, Matthew lifted the puppy and put her on Beau's lap. She looked over her shoulder disdainfully at Matthew, turned around and bounded right back into Matthew's lap, barking her recriminations at being manhandled thusly.
"Uh," he said, not quite able to keep a pleased smile from his face. "Are they all so ... assertive?" Biting his lip, Matthew asked, "Or do they get that from you?"
Beau grinned. Smart gal, that Tallulah Damn, he wished he wuz sittin' in Matthew's lap.
"Nah," he drawled, "most Gordons aren't quite so ... forward. But, Tallulah here, 'pears to have fallen for you, sir. Not," he added, "that Ah kin blame her. And, Ah must confess that Ah have spoiled he jest a bit. She was the runt of the litter, you see, and I hand-raised her."
Sighing, Beau looked at the pup. "Ah'm a damned fool - agreein' to sell her." He shook his head, and came to a decision. "And, Ah've jest changed mah mind - this little gal is no longer for sale. Ah'll jest hafta convince the buyer to settle on another pup from the litter."
Smiling, Matthew chose not to analyze the relief that flooded through him at Beau's pronouncement. He could easily and contentedly picture this puppy with Beau, but not as the pet of some spoiled congressman's kid.
He moved closer to Matthew and ruffled his fingers through Tallulah's downy fur. "They all laugh at me, ya know. 'Cause Ah get too attached to mah dogs. Sellin' one is like sellin' mah own child. Thing is, the dogs were mah family when I first came to live on the estate. They bought me with the intention of usin' me as a kennel hand and general handyman 'round the place." He grimaced. "Miz Elinor - the lady of the manor, I s'pose you'd call her - didn't want blacks workin' for her. She wuz a strange one. Not a'tall like most Southern ladies."
Shaking off the memories, Beau gathered his thoughts. "Which do you want to hear about first - the South or the dogs?"
Matthew blinked, not quite believing that he'd heard what he thought he had. But he couldn't convince himself that he hadn't -- his hearing was excellent and his memory sharp. While he was considering, Tallulah made herself comfortable on his lap, stretching out for a nap and, in doing so, brought Beau's fingers closer to Matthew's thigh -- a fact he noted only peripherally -- Matthew's mind was on other things.
Finally curiosity won out over tact, so he ventured, "They ... they bought you? Who's they? Do you mean that Elinor person? And what do you mean they bought you? Did they lure you away from some other breeder or something?"
Beau slumped back into his seat. Dammit, he hadn't meant to say that ... what would Matthew think of him once the truth was known? Hellfire, he had no choice now ... Sighing deeply, he concentrated on petting Tallulah, carefully avoiding Matthew's curious eyes. "Ah'm not human, Matthew. Ah'm an android. I look human - I feel human - but I'm an artificial construct."
Lifting his sleeve, he showed Matthew the tattoo on his arm, identifying him as a Mac27 - #87. "The Trevvetts - Elinor and her husband Les bought me from a company called Innobotics. Ah worked my artificial ass of fer years - takin' care of their place. Miz Elinor never did warm up ta me - but Les was one hell of a man. Ah can't tell you how much he meant ta me - treated me like a real person ... and, after she passed on, he kind of unofficially adopted me. Left everything ta me when he died." Gathering his courage in both hands, Beau looked up at Matthew. "So, is this a problem? Should Ah back off now? Or, kin ya accept what Ah am?"
Matthew stared at the tattoo for a full minute, his mind turning over what he'd heard. He'd been convinced that Beau was putting him on until he'd seen the frightened, haunted look in his eyes when he asked his final questions. His eyes? Well, even if he was an android, he was still a he, wasn't he? Matthew couldn't bring himself to think of Beau as an it. He just couldn't.
Besides, he had to be male at ... at least anatomically and maybe with respect to socialization, too. But, if an android could look that scared was there really all that much difference between them? Legally, Beau had to have some sort of status if he could inherit Les Trewett's estate. Or maybe the executor of the will hadn't known he was an android. Matthew's head was beginning to hurt.
At that moment, Matthew's eyes were drawn to Tallulah and he noted how gently Beau was petting her. That's when he became aware that the van was stopped and Methos was talking to someone, but the other man's voice seemed to be coming from very far away and Matthew couldn't make sense of the words.
Methos pulled the van up at the gates of the compound. He'd followed the directions well enough, but the line of saffron robed Hare Krishna monks startled him a little. He shook his head and grinned at Anson, who was seated beside him, drinking him in with huge, adoring eyes. This was something that he could definitely get used to.
"When Alex said eccentric, he wasn't joking, was he?" Methos grinned, and then frowned as what appeared to be two more Anson clones stepped out, bristling with weapons.
"We've come for the meeting," Methos wound down his window and indicated the van full of look-alikes..."
Fresh from boku-maru and then a little wrestle in the hay with Mac Smith, Skip was in a better mood. He had heard yet more clones had arrived in the compound in front of the main temple and, of course, his personal residence.
Mac Smith headed to the kitchen to take command, sure that havoc reigned because of his brief absences, and Skip strolled barefooted, hiking up one end of his orange and purple robe with the tenets of Bokononism illustrated all over it. His cafe au lait colored legs strode impatiently as his imposing body pushed through idlers on the lawn. He must remember to put in a casino or something to keep people from gawking about so idly.
The new van contained seven more look-a-likes to add to the crazy collection already wreaking havoc in his temple grounds. Plus there was a tall, sulky looking fellow, a thin man wearing a huge sweater, an indolent air, and the suggestion that he knew a great deal that no one else did, and finally a handsome looking fellow who seemed very bewildered by his fall down the rabbit hole. Oh, and a dog, a puppy...joy...Skip hoped that none of his guests would eat the cute little thing.
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