The Game 32

Edited by Karen Leigh

Beau waited for an answer to his question on sleeping accommodations for Matthew.

Now that was a good question, the temple was large and he had to admit that most of the Mac 27s weren't fussy about accommodations, but the place was only built for about a hundred worshippers at a time plus his staff members.

Scratching his head, Skip finally shrugged and said, "Basically, you knock on doors and if there's no answer, see if there's an empty bed or if the bed isn't empty, see if whoever is in it is interested in another playmate. Which reminds me..."

"Alphonse? Did you remember to order the extra shipment of condoms and the banana flavored lube? Why do I have to think of everything around here? I'm up to my sacred ass in paperwork when I could be screwing Mac!"

Looking at the stunned faces, Skip said, "No, I'm not kidding. The place is overrun with Mac 27s and I tell you as pretty as that face is, I'm going to start to paint numbers on your foreheads so I can keep track of who is whom. Hell, try my bedroom. It doesn't look like I'm getting into it anytime soon. Take the elevator to the penthouse and key in the word, Foma, that's F-O-M-A."

Leaving the two weary travelers looking more than slightly confused, Skip went off to see if Mac Smith knew if he had accommodations for the rest of this pack.

Numbly, Beau watched the agitated man bustle off on whatever important issue he had on his quite obviously warped mind. Finally, he shook his head and turned back to face his companions.

And, the looks on their faces. Hellfire! Everything from astonishment, to suspicion to pity could be seen in the expressions before him.

"Ahem!" Beau straightened and glared at the group in general. "While it is true that Ah am a Mac 27 - Ah jest want to make it clear that a Mac is what Ah am, not who Ah am. Now, If y'all will excuse me, I'm goin' ta collect Matthew and get him ta bed."

As he stalked past Dave and Tom, who were both carefully avoiding his eyes, Beau looked up to see Matthew standing quietly. Well within earshot. And, judging by the look on his face, he'd heard the whole thing.

"Matthew?" He walked over to stand next to the man. "Ah have secured a bed for you. C'mon, let's get outa here. You kin sleep; Ah'll keep an eye out. Ah'm not so sure Ah trust some of these folks.

"Ok," Matthew murmured. "Thanks, Beau. I'm not sure how much more of this I could take anyway. But remind me to make some notes tomorrow. I'm sure there's a science fiction novel in all of this, and I'm the man to write it. How hard can fiction be anyway? And what with everyone looking the same, you don't have to do much in the way of description." While they walked and followed Skip's directions, Matthew added, "They're just trying to adjust to all this. That's all. When they have time to think and to observe you and others, they'll realize that whatever is going on -- we're in it together." Smiling, he put a hand on Beau's forearm. "The ones with any sense anyway. Okay?"

"Besides," Matthew continued after another bout of yawning, "if you get upset, you'll upset Tallulah. That'd be a damn shame, Beau."

Beau stopped and faced Matthew. "Ah hope you're right - about the others. Damn," he shook his head sadly, "Ah don't really think of myself as being a robot - a construct, you know? Ah mean, Les treated me like a man - like a son. Taught me so much - gave me respect. It jest took me by surprise, to have the whole group look at me like that." He turned and keyed in the code Skip had provided and they entered the room. "Ah surely do appreciate the fact that you don't look on me any differently now that you know what Ah am. That means a lot to me, Matthew. More than you can know."

Shaking himself out of his funk, Beau viewed the room and guided Matthew over to the bed. "Here now, you and 'Lullah lay on down and sleep. Ah'll keep watch."

Matthew didn't know what else to do and nothing to say came to mind, so he smiled.

Matthew stared at the bed gratefully, placing Tallulah down on top of the blankets. She barked at him, but it was a halfhearted effort. It seemed that she was tired too. Dropping his somewhat battered jacket onto a chair and kicking off his shoes, Matthew gave a passing thought to weather the pup was trained to go to the bathroom out of doors yet.

Too tired to think about that or to be particularly nervous about being alone with Beau, Matthew removed his belt, socks and unbuttoned a few buttons of his dark green shirt. His mind working sluggishly, he asked, "Keep watch? Don't you sleep at all, Beau?"

"Yeah, Ah sleep - jest not as much as you humans," Beau answered. "Ah haven't eaten fer a while now and that makes me a little tired, but, I'll be fine, boy. You need the rest far more that I do." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows, "Sides, there's only the one bed in here. Ah wasn't sure if you were ready to ... ah, share such close sleeping arrangements."

Matthew chuckled as he clumsily worked at the remaining shirt buttons. "Look at the size of the thing, Beau. It'd be comfortable for ten. You'd be lucky to find me in there. And, if you could get me interested in anything but sleep right now, you are one seriously talented man, Beau."

Slipping the shirt off of his shoulders, Matthew yawned and muttered, "Very seriously talented."

Regarding the puppy as he stripped down to his boxers and pulled down the bedclothes, Matthew asked, "Is it okay for her to stay on the bed?"

Beau smiled. "Tallulah should be fine - Ah must admit that Ah've spoiled her - she sleeps with me at home. She jest - has a certain charm that Ah can't resist." He chuckled. "Seems that her charm works on everyone. She's a special gal - can't believe Ah wuz actually gonna part with her."

While saying this, Beau undressed to his boxers and walked over to climb into the bed with Matthew. Although he wuz mightily tempted, he resisted his desire for this man. Boy wuz too tired to be in his right mind, jest now. Maybe when they woke ...

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

Dave watched as the others paired off and went in search of sleeping quarters. He felt wide-awake, for unknown reasons, and he was starved.

"Listen, Tom, if you're not too tired what do you say we head out and find a place to eat. I need to get away from this place for a while." He looked at Tom, silently urging the man to join him.

Shrugging, Tom nodded. "Yeah, I'm kind of wound up, myself. And, I'm hungry, too."

They headed out to the van and left the compound in search of a diner.

Neither noticed the car unobtrusively following them.

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

And three rooms over, unable to block the sensations and emotions that Baines was inadvertently sending but heavily shielding her own, Jess, lonely and aroused, cried into her pillow.

After a night of little sleep, Jess got up early and went to the dining room. Something about her posture, the expression on her face kept other early morning risers from asking to join her. Drinking coffee and picking at her breakfast she was going back over the past five years of her life, again. What was the point, she couldn't change it. She felt Baines wakening and then it started. Every muscle in her body seemed to tighten in defence as she tried to block the thoughts, emotions and images that came. Unlike last nights passion, this morning was tender and so loving. Baines, in love for the first time in his life, was astonished and filled with the joy of loving. It poured over her like warm honey and when arousal came it was muted and slow. Tears filled her eyes again. She sat frozen till the end unable to move. There was no where to go to escape this. She could not leave the compound, Jake would find her. The other night she had briefly sensed another of her kind outside the perimeter. She had tried to tell herself it was her imagination but something warned her that Jake was not her only problem beyond the gates.

An hour later and Jess still sat staring into a cold cup of coffee when Leigh and Michael entered the room. She felt Leigh's eyes on her but did not look up. She did not see the frown but felt a warmth roll over her as he reached out across the barrier. Then the mental touch was withdrawn. Still, she did not look up closing into herself even further. Suddenly, with a clatter the two men joined her at the table. She looked into concerned eyes and again the warmth rolled over her. Intrusive but comforting. She knew he was reading her and could do nothing to stop him. Even untutored his abilities were growing stronger with each passing day. While not the mentally strongest, Jess had been able to block out most of the other werewolves mental sendings. It was that or go mad. But with Baines, she didn't stand a chance. She wondered about his history, wondered if there were innate psychic tendencies in him. He smiled at her as if he read that thought. Oh shit! He knows that I know in detail what happened last night and this morning.

He spoke softly, "Jess, I'm sorry. You will have to teach me to build shields to block." He looked down at his plate and Michael pink cheeked and happy looked first at Jess and then at Leigh not understanding.

Jess nodded, not trusting herself to speak. This was awkward for her.

Leigh lifted his head and smiled gently at Jess and said, "We haven't had much time to get to know one another and we may not have the time. But one thing I do know is that life is too short to live in the past. You must let go of your past. Accept who and what you are and move on. This place is filled to capacity with warm and willing people, many of whom are kind and loving. Reach out, Jess. Reach out and touch someone. You can't heal yourself alone. Let someone warm you. I know my telling you that we are all slightly less than human it not much comfort but it is the truth. What you have become is not hateful, it can be a beautiful thing if you let it."

He started to eat, like a soldier eats, stoking the furnace. Barely aware of taste. His eyes on Jess as he chewed and swallowed. Listening to her internal arguments. Accept it? she thought, not caring if Baines was overhearing her. Accept what was done to me and move on? I'm a god damned werewolf! No one in their right mind is going to want to... She stopped that thought. It wasn't fair to Michael. Different situation anyway. The two of them were together before I...

"Jess, put the past behind you. You are special. You are worthy of being loved and cherished. Let someone give you what you need. Acknowledge that you need it. Think of this condition we find ourselves in as a gift. You have been alone and too self-contained for too long. It is not healthy. Let yourself be loved. I care about you. I want you to find the happiness I have found. I don't want my happiness to hurt you."

Jess' eyes were so sad that Michael shifted uneasily in his chair.

"I wish I could believe you, I want to believe you. It has been so long and you....I could not block and.....you are so beautiful together. I wish....I want.." she couldn't finish.

Michael's eyes widened as he suddenly grasped the meaning of what they were saying. He stared at Leigh but Leigh was focused on Jess.

"I know. I can feel what you are feeling. I know what you need. I wish I could give it to you but...." he looked at Michael and gave a tiny smile.

Jess could feel the warmth again and hunched against it for a brief moment and then let it wash through her. She smiled slightly and said, "You think I need a werewolf psychiatrist?"

Leigh laughed, "Not my area of expertise but I try."

Jess grinned at him and said, "Okay, I will try. Guilt and self-loathing is unproductive, I know. I want to teach you to block, and soon please because if I take your advice I don't want.... I don't. She blushed.

Leigh reached over and patted her hand, "I know believe me I know." Then he smiled such a lascivious and beautiful smile at her that she blushed even harder.

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

"Oh. How rude."

Whilst waiting for Samantha to finish talking on the phone, Drusilla's protective instincts had come to the fore and the naked vampiress roused herself from the soapy water to cover herself in a bath-robe and deal with any potential threats to her little family. Except now she was left with an unconscious man on the floor who hadn't even seen them, before taking it upon himself to spoil their lovely new carpet by draping himself all over it.

After a new dress was ordered from reception and sent up to the hotel suite, Samantha seemed to have quite forgotten precisely who had called them. Or at least, she wasn't saying so if she did remember. Dru by contrast was preoccupied with putting on her new clothes and deciding it was best to put the intruder on a bed.

It was just a shame there were no manacles or handcuffs to restrain their new guest.

Dabbing the stranger's brow with a flannel of soothing cold water, the motherly Princess watched in fascination as he stirred from sleep. "Shh...!" Comforted the English-lilted voice that could enchant a viper if it ever tried to. Drusilla bringing a hand to his chest in preparation to push him back if the mortal attempted to raise himself back up.

"And what was all the hurry for, hmm? All those frantic thoughts of running far away..."

Pinocchio looked up at the strange woman then turned his head to look around the rather large room he had broken into. Fuck but this place was big. He turned his head back to the woman. He slowly brought his blue eyes down to her hand that rested on his chest. Not like she needed it there, at the moment he was too weak to even get up.

What was happening to him? He could still feel a burning in his back, his fever still there, his vision was clearer at least. And his body just plain ached all over. Every cell was sore. He closed is eyes briefly as the strange woman dabbed his brow again. The coolness of the cloth seemed to bring him some relief. Even a small moan left his lips.

He opened them again and looked up into her dark blue eyes. They seemed so... hypnotic in a way, "Where... where am I and who are you?" he finally asked, "And how do you know... I was...running?" he didn't mean to ask that last part out loud but it just slipped out.

"Mummy knows everything," Samantha laughed, looking up at the stranger. She grew serious. "Think she'll tell you, do you?" She turned to her mother. "That was a man on the phone. He gave you this number to get in touch with... Methos. Cory's with him, they said... " She paused for a moment.

Turning away, she walked over to the bed and sat down, to see whom this new person was, and why he was here. Mummy would know.

"Hmm," said the vampiress in slight confusion. There were things to be taken care of here first and young Cory could wait for a good while yet. Quite what Spike wanted with him she had no idea. Maybe they wanted to go planting daisies together?

Then again, Spike always seemed rather uncomfortable when 'acting like a pansy', as he sometimes put it. Still, she rather liked the fact that he would only join in a doll's tea party for her and no one else. Angelus sometimes remarked he was getting in touch with his softer side and might start wearing some of her dresses in a few years too.

Spike always seemed to fume at those jibes and start to mutter foul language. Heaven knew why...

"Wouldn't make much of a meal as you are. Shame really. Just have to rest you for a while 'till we get hungry." In the low-lit room, Dru both looked and sounded like a motherly young soul making joker comments. Quite a world away from the very real and serious intentions of a would-be ravenous vampiress. She'd been looking forward to further consummating her own and lover's reunion. All in all it was taking quite some time.

"There now," she said with a gentle kiss to the stranger's forehead and final dab of her flannel to brow. "All better!" Pride began to fill her as Drusilla imagined the look on Spike's face when he discovered she had caught someone and nursed him back to full health in order to eat. All thoughts of the phone message quite clearly forgotten. Not that Samantha had told her it was even Spike on the phone, of course. "You'll need to rest now, hmm? Stay on my bed. Not lettin' you out my sight 'till all your parts work again."

The voice was hypnotic and the touch gentle. Pinocchio tried to watch her through blurred vision. He turned his head to the side closing his eyes, unable to fight his ever-growing weakness.

After some time, the pain in his back was increasing. He moaned and rolled to his side. Fuck but he hated pain... not good. Pain usually meant something bad... but what? He didn't remember getting shot?

"Florence," he said softly, "My back hurts; can you heal it?" Nothing, no response, "Florence?" He turned his head opening his eyes and held a confused look on his face. Who was Florence? Why did he call out for her?

He sat up slowly feeling slightly stronger noting his weapons were gone. Well at least his clothes were still there. He wondered if it was all a dream? Dreams... he dreamed he was in a world where everything was... destroyed. People living in encampments, hungry, cold and he was giving orders to destroy them. He furrowed his brow but brushed it aside as just a dream. But for some odd reason, Harsh Realm stuck in his mind as he started to kick his legs over the side of the bed.

In a brand new dress of favored crimson the vampiress watched. During his short sleep she had seen to a number of things and one of them was in her hands. Asked for from room service, who seemed rather perplexed at the request but came through regardless.

"Time to get up, sleepy-head. You can marinate elsewhere. All them dreams of a world in sorrow..." Striding up to the man saved for later feasting, Drusilla affixed a dog collar and chain around his neck without care for the fact he was still a little too dazed to object fully. A short, sharp tug was given before any argument could be made and Pinocchio was hauled up by vampiric strength like any other pet for walkies.

Regardless of his state of health, Dru at least had the intuition to know that after the rest, the man was at least able to stand and walk. "We've to wait 'till Spike phones an' tells us we've got taxis." The chain was gripped in hands effortlessly but firmly. Ensuring his compliance until they entered a living room for the undead. Such poetic irony in that statement... A couch was there to be used and used it was. Dru seating herself upon it, with the man in dog collar and chain being forced to sit beside her.

"Won't be long now," she curtly said in a smile of politeness. "Maybe we'll eat you on the way."

"Get this fucking thing off me lady," he growled as he reached up to take the collar off, "I'm not a fucking lap dog." He felt her bat his hand away, hard, putting a bruise on him. He glared at her as he tried to move away but felt the strong tug of the chain.

"Doggie's meant to SIT!" She commanded with an authoritarian air. "Not go walkies when I've not allowed! Grrruff!" Her imitation poodle-bark might have come as a surprise to him, but with Drusilla there was always a never-ending source of playfulness - even with torture.

"Just who or shall I ask what the hell are you?" his eyes locking to hers as if seeking the answers within them.

She paused a moment. A lady becoming quite incensed with his lack of polite manners and too many elbows upon tables. "You, little doggy, don't know your place!"

The vampiress could sense annoyance boiling up inside him, but her own rage could be truly Hellish and within a second Drusilla's face had transformed and shifted into that of the lethal demon her nature confided.

"Don't. You. Dare."

Pinocchio couldn't believe his eyes as the lovely woman who had been scolding him shifted and changed right before his eyes. His eyes fell to the sharp teeth, the high brow and the yellow eyes. He started to pull back.

The grip on Pinocchio's chain tightened and a scolding finger wagged at him in stern schoolmistress fashion. Drusilla's voice was slow and warning, replete with a predatory growl rumbling out within her throat. A threat if ever there was which only a fool would disregard. Yellow nocturnal eyes stared the mortal down and the vampire Princess showed mercy only to those who gave her due respect.

"Now then," she said with a slightly calmer gesture towards a plate on the nearby table. "Would you like a biscuit while we wait?"

So this is what she meant by eat. She was a vampire... a fucking vampire. Great, from one hellhole to the next. At least she looked good. If one was going to die, might as well die with a beautiful woman in his arms, even if she had yellow eyes. Fuck if he wasn't God's shitter, what the hell was he.

He reached blindly for the food, finding it as his eyes never left hers and pulled it back to him. He just sat there silently his mind working, trying to figure a way out of this mess he'd crawled into. He fingered the food before taking a bite. He slowly turned his blues to her, feeling the burning in his back growing worse. It was going up his spine. He lowered his head but still looked at her, for a vampire... she was damn good looking. Hell he wouldn't mind her wrapping her legs around him, fucking him to death before she drained him.

He looked away as he got flashes of Harsh Realm. Of the time when he, Hobbes and Florence were at that strange lake and they were being drained cause it copied them. How the copies were feeding visitors people... real people. If it hadn't been for Hobbes, they all would be dead.

He shook his head wondering where the hell that memory came from. He started to sweat again as he wiped it with the sleeve of his shirt. "So tell me Princess...master," he added for safe measure, "How long do we wait, could always call a taxi yourself."

His supposedly secret fantasy was radiating loud and clear to the undead psychic. She just looked at him, all the while contemplating just how delightfully perverse the mortal's mind was to practically yearn for her bite while she raped him into death. An appealing idea for the undead Princess if ever there was.

"Don't know where to go. Spike'll tell 'em when they're fetched. Not morning time yet, though I'm sure you wish I won't let it come." Her bestial expression hadn't yet changed and Drusilla's vampire mask was a relatively attractive one compared to most. There was something haunting in its captured beauty that many victims had even wished for before she took them to their deaths. "For you anyway."

Samantha sat on the edge of the bed, watching her mother talk to the man on the bed. The way she spoke to him... her tone was sweet, but it was also menacing.

Powerful. She could have that power... her Mummy had said so.

She would watch, and learn.

A small smile curved her lips. Playing, this was playing.

And it would be fun

The vampiress edged nearer the sweating man in collar and the chain grip only seemed to tighten. The air was laced with both fear and arousal, not to mention blood. All in all, rather an irresistible combination for one of her kind. "I know what you want," she purred in seductive overtone. Leaning up to the prisoner to take in his scent from the neck. "What you'd like Mistress to do." Slowly he was pushed back to stretch down on the couch, as the kittenish Princess crawled up her potential victim with a cat-like gaze of hunger. Long, slender fingers slid up and over Pinocchio's still-clothed chest and back around his head. A soothing motion that ended with a sudden grip of short hair and a yank back of the grown male's head.

Dru pressed herself tight against him. Rubbing the mortal's hardening erection between the long, lithe thighs in a small teasing way designed to coax the living male into complete submission. Against her strength he could do nothing - not even kiss. Instead Princess was in control and would not relent for so much as a second. Penetration didn't occur but the act was awash with sexual meaning, as the victimizing seduction always was. "I'm hungry..." Tongue wetly trailed up the exposed throat as fangs grazed and then luxuriously pressed down with a bite down into flesh. One finger beckoning over Samantha to feed as well, should her new daughter feel the need.

"Thank you mother," purred Samantha, getting off the bed with newfound grace and lying down beside Dru. "Look at how strong he is. His blood will taste so good..."

All kinds of new impulses and desires and modes of thought had been suggesting themselves, and now Samantha was comfortable enough to join her mother in the feast without guilt, and without the need for rationalization. Since she'd met Dru she just hadn't been the same...

A small chuckle escaped her at this thought. A twelve-year old girl should never be so evil.

As she drank, she began to feel a peaceful calm, and she looked of at her Mother. She seemed happy, too.

As she drank slowly from Michael Pinocchio, the vampiress Drusilla stayed there in a carnivorous consumption of his blood. The bite was her mark and without the ability to heal completely as she could, the scar would now be carried with him for life as a permanent reminder of her taking - not his life, but his pain. Vampiric saliva mixed with his bloodstream and many, should they be allowed to survive it, became addicted to the feel of bite and draining essence. For after the initial pain came a bizarre source of pleasure, perhaps heightened by the fact that she had long since stopped any sexual provocation below.

After enough was taken without involving death, razor-sharp canines withdrew and further licks of tongue sealed the wound as best they could. A shifting sound of features realigning marked the return of her human visage and Dru rose back up to her earlier seating position as though nothing unnatural had ever occurred. On the contrary - to her it was completely natural and not untoward in the slightest. The only thing unusual was leaving the victim alive.

"He's not dead, Mother? You can feed without killing?" Samantha looked at her mother as she began to think it over.

A ready and wiling victim any time... her mother had told her about hypnosis. It certainly would make things easier... less messy.

"A donor!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Mummy, you've found us a donor, right?"

Before anything like a true sexual union or so much as a kiss could take place, she had removed herself with a small feather-light slap given over the side of his face. "You'll not have me that way little dog," she reprimanded in a voice of teasing smile. "That's for my Spike - not you. Might be he'll find you a use. Might want someone to walk in the sun. Hunt you down an' make you beg for killin' if you run though."

Samantha shook her head, smiling. "Naughty Mummy. Not for me, either. I just want to run and play, forever."

She looked between them. "Spike should be here soon..."

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

Trailing the van was a piece of cake... until they approached the gates of what appeared to be a large private estate. There was a miasma about the place. It got into Spike's throat and stomach. It made his head ache. Some bugger had had the place blessed.

Now, Spike could stand a church, for a while... or a synagogue. In fact most places where worship went on, though uncomfortable, were bearable for a short time, as long as he didn't get too close to any holy symbols. Even then, the cross was the only one that would seriously affect him.

But this sodding place had got the works. Someone had taken every religion and put them into a big pot, and stirred them up. For Spike, it was like trying to breathe sewer gas, and the aura caused a physical barrier that prevented him approaching nearer than twenty yards. He watched the van disappear in frustrated rage, his face contorting to reflect the demon that lay inside him.

He hid the car in the bushes beside the road, and crept as near to the fence as he could, hoping to get a clue to the purpose of the estate. There were a lot of guards... and a large proportion of them also looked like Cory. What the hell was going on? Skirting the perimeter, he stumbled over some fresh bodies, ripped apart as if by wild animals. They were in uniform. Spike shivered. He wasn't at all keen on para-military types. The bastards that bothered with religion were really bad news.

Back at the gate he was just in time to see a car leave with Cory, or possibly another twin, and a companion. Perhaps it was a chance to get some answers. He knew he couldn't force information from them, but Dru could. He got back in his car and followed, hoping it was really Cory in there.

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

Roy walked the streets of Washington. It was 3:00 am, the wolf hour. Shoulders hunched against the pain he felt at Laurie's reaction and last words. "Go home." There was a finality in her tone that told him they were finished. Somehow in the deepest part of him he had known this would come, if not today, then someday. Their relationship had been good but Laurie had control issues and a neediness that nothing seemed to fill. Her behavior since she met her birth mother was a perfect example of that. Manipulating peoples lives to satisfy some personal need. When it appeared that her mother was not going to cooperate with her desires, she turned in a new direction. He had told her that it was her mother's life. So she focused on their life. His mind kept going over and over their last conversation. "You only get once chance in life to get it right and I don't want to miss ours."

He had still been half asleep but he answered her. I don't understand what you're saying.

I'm saying that I love you.

I love you too, honey, you know that.

I'm saying that I want to get married.

Well that woke him up with a vengeance with panic in his chest. The conversation he'd known would come but not this soon. God, not this soon. He had gotten out of bed saying, I'm going to get a glass of water. and she followed him into the kitchen and stood waiting for an explanation.

He tried. You're, II've been agonizing over this for monthsI haven't even been able to eat half the timejust trying to figure it outyou know. But, I just don't think I'm ready. I don't think that I'm gonna be ready. I'm justI'm not in a place right now where marriage feels right to me.

She said nothing, just waited so he continued. It's not you, it has nothing to do with how much I love you.

Well, that's such a relief. He saw the anger and tried to explain better.

After what happened with Sharon and me and the divorce, it justit tore me up, Laurie, it did. I don't think I'm ready to go through something like that again.

She heard but she didn't understand. Ray, it's not about divorce. I'm talking about marriage.

So he said the words he somehow knew would end their relationship forever. It's not the right time.

Her anger overflowed into speech. This whole last year you and I were just on this train to nowhere and you knew it the whole time.

That wasn't true. He had tried. No! I didn't know it. I.

And that is when she hit him in the balls doubling him over the counter in pain.

Through clenched teeth she asked, You all right?

No.

I had no right to do that.

No. You had every right to

But she hadn't let him say another word. Shut up, Roy, just shut up and go home.

And that was it. The end. That's all she wrote. That fat lady has sung. Another relationship crashed and burned.

Roy thought back over the last few months when he had tried to convince himself that they loved each other; that they could have a future together. But something wary in him held back. It was not that he was a person incapable of commitment. Hell, he had married Sharon in that fine, first flush of love and look how that relationship ended.

Laurie was nothing like Sharon but still he could not see them married. No matter which way he looked at it, and boy had he looked at it in the last several months, he just couldn't see them living together let alone married to one another. Somewhere under the pain was a sense of relief. He went over their last conversation again, trying to see if he could have said something different, something that might have held them together, given them more time but there was nothing. Nothing but the truth would serve.

Roy did not see the van passing on the other side of the road, nor did he see it make a U-turn behind him. Suddenly, the sound of a vehicle braking right beside him brought his head up but it was too late. Hands reaching out from the open side door grabbed him and pulled him inside. The doors slid shut and the vehicle was in motion. In the darkness, as he struggled against the hands that pinned him to the floor of the van. Suddenly an overhead light came on and he found himself looking up at four identical men. Men wearing the face he saw in the mirror every morning. In shock, he stopped struggling.

One of the men spoke, "He is human."

Human? What the fuck?

Another leaned closer and bright green eyes stared into his. "What is your name?"

Christ the voice even sounded like his. "Roy..Roy McIntyre." He stuttered out.

Hands helped him to sit up and patted him gently. "We are sorry if we frightened you, Roy McIntyre, but there is danger on the streets for those who wear our face. We thought you were one of us. We are going to a place of safety. There are other humans, like yourself, there who will explain."

"But Iwhat if I don't want to go?"

"It is not safe for you. They are hunting us all."

"What are you? Who is they? And why are they hunting us?" He had finally gotten a grip on his voice and the hesitation was gone. Strange that this was less nerve wracking than telling Laurie that he would not marry her.

The men looked at each other but did not speak. One turned to him and said, "We are androids. We were created by Innobotics and sold. But they began collecting us for recycling and others are now trying to terminate us too. "

"What does that have to do with me? Why would I be in danger, I am human?"

"Yes, you are human, Roy McIntyre. But you are also a clone of Alex Krycek."

"A clonewhat the hell are you talking about? Cloning people is illegal."

"Nevertheless, Roy McIntyre, it has been done. Many other clones have gathered at the same place of safety. All your questions will be answered when we get there."

The light went out and Roy felt bodies sit on either side of him.

Silence, but for the rumble of engines, filled the compartment. He was too tired to argue further so he leaned back and closed his eyes.

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

on to Game page 33

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