The Game 35
Edited by Karen Leigh
He wondered how long this poor sod would last, and how he'd be able to dispose of him without Dru knowing if his pleas for someone to end his agony got too bloody boring.
Drusilla turned in a haunting, murderous movement of head towards him. The kiss sating erotic hunger for now with images still flashing clear before her of the past that he too saw. "But why, it was all a game for you with no one the victor. Not even a deck of cards to play." Then a hand lifted to an ear and a majestic look of foresight came over. "Oh, there's a man of cigarettes down below. Come to check on my Spike's little plastic knick-knack. If he goes down to the woods today, he's sure for a big surprise..." She began in a smiling tribute to 'The Teddy Bear's Picnic' song.
Fuck. Was she saying one of the soldier boys was here? They couldn't have followed him from Sunnydale, could they? Reluctantly he decided that he'd have to take a gander downstairs before whomever it was found him instead. But first he wanted to see what Dru was up to now.
Regaining focus, Drusilla advanced on the man. Almost glowing in sheer confidence and reaching down to dog collared chain, in order to haul the Pinocchio puppet back up once more. "Little dog needs an operation!" She announced proudly. "Not like Spike - he's only to see things different."
Spike sniggered, and he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, wondering what Nurse Nightmare had in mind for the doomed doggy. Couldn't see her cutting his knackers off, she liked her pets horny. Pissing themselves in fear, and hard as hell. What a lovely combination. Maybe she was going to dock his ears? She had her scalpel ready.
Pinocchio fought as much as he could to keep from being dragged out from his protective corner. A snarl was on his lips but he did not voice the words that were etched deep in his eyes. The glare he gave her would have made most men run, cower or wet their pants once seen. Sadly, nothing worked on her insane little demon mind and he was forced out of his corner.
Throwing him down to the floor on his stomach, Dru straddled his back from behind, making sure he could not twist or turn without her express permission. "Princess said SIT!" She commanded as the small knife she had swiped from the table was brought to bear upon the man's spine...
Pinocchio clawed at the floor but unable to move, "Don't you mean lay down. Get off..." he was cut short when her weight bore down on him with a force that knocked the wind from him. He had to catch his breath but it was short lived for the burning pain of the knife into already sore skin took it away. He screamed out with a growl behind it. He felt blood run down his back, pooling in his shirt before soaking through. God the pain was horrible, teeth clenched, blue eyes blurred with the pain
Barely a minute later between intuitive cuts into flesh where what was needed could be found, Drusilla unraveled and removed the small piece of technology that had been causing so much trouble. "Night-night!" She waved and yanked the offending device clean out of Michael Pinocchio's spine.
You could have knocked Spike down with a feather. His lady did seem to know what she was doing, after all. Whether her fortunate patient was going to survive was dubious. He'll probably be a sodding cripple, he thought. Should think those legs won't work, with a bloody great hole in his spine.
Pinocchio screamed again, memories rushed back to him of the demon world he came from, the living hell she called just a game. She didn't understand it was so much more... so much more. The memories played in no order, of when he worked for Santiago, his time with Hobbes, telling him of Harsh Realm, how no one had the concept of God in that world, of the time his leg was blown off and a healer gave her life to give it back to him. How he fell in love with Inga and she stole his soul only to kill it. Of when he, Florence and Hobbes thought they killed Santiago, how greedy he got when he saw all the gold, visions of the real world, his days a soldier, the operation that put the device in his back, and lastly the bite Dru put on him, drinking his blood like he was a water fountain. His head dropped to the floor, breath heavy. He was barely conscious... oh the pain, the memories... it all hurt and still, after all this time he still did not see a light at the end of the tunnel for him.
His blues blinked with pain as he fought to stay awake, even a small whimper crept out of him. Now what was going to happen to him? Was he to be damned forever with these people, these vampires that were calming him as their pet? If there were a God above... he would just let him die, right now.
Spike's hands itched to rip Drusilla naked once more and graze the white skin with deep, wine-red gashes, to slather himself in the blood that swirled in her veins, newly gathered from the puling puppy she had on the end of her chain. It was nice to see her with a pet again. He'd forgotten how much fun it could be to watch them suffer and die in her inventive and irrational care. Nice too to see them realize that storybook monsters were real, and that there were vampires wanting their weak little bodies for dinner, and that who they were, or what the sad buggers felt didn't matter a tinker's curse.
The fat, rich smell of Pinocchio's blood curled into Spike's nostrils, and his face distorted once more to show his true, demonic nature. Dropping to his knees beside the pair, he snatched the knife from Drusilla's hand and licked the blood from it greedily, and was about to bury his fangs in the wound in the man's back when a vice clamped onto his brain, sending him reeling back in agony.
Leaping to his feet, he pounded his fists against his forehead in frustration. "Bloody stupid interfering twats," he snarled. "If they're here, you can rip their guts out for me, Dru, luv. Perhaps your little girly would like to get some fang practice, too. I'm going down to take a look. If it's them, I hope they haven't paid in advance for a room. They won't be needing it."
He slammed out of the door and rushed downstairs to the lobby. Edging round a pillar, he scanned the room. No sign of the Action Man boys, though one of the Corys was sitting across the way. He took a deep breath. If it were Cory, he'd probably recognize his scent. Some humans were difficult to tell apart, but that bugger Cory had blood that sparkled like vintage champagne. Oddly, however, the bloke had no human smell at all. Was this what Dru had meant by metal men? Spike dodged to another pillar for a closer look.
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It took Tin Man hours to get back to the hotel. He'd walked halfway before it occurred to him to get a bus, and he'd also got a little lost. Once there, he was desperate to re-fuel, and headed to the bar for a soda; something full of sugar for an instant energy boost. Several thousand megajoules later he felt ready to resume his task.
The man at the reception desk seemed pleased to see him, wanting to know which of the gentlemen, who looked so alike, he was. Tin Man was evasive, but did discover that the flunky knew nothing about Skinner or Denise, and that the clones had hired a van to go to some rich man's compound out of town. At least it was a lead, but so much time had passed that Tin Man wondered if he could be of help any more, or whether pursuit was fruitless. He decided to linger in the lobby for a while, and if none of the clones returned, try the compound. Crossing his blue-jeaned legs, and pulling his leather jacket tidily around himself, he settled back into a chair and went into standby mode
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The Smoker had long been interested in the movements of those of his experiments that had believed themselves free of the shadow of Innobotics.
He was watching one such at the present. Hostile 17 was on his screen, first buzzing around the compound where the Mac 27s had sought sanctuary.
It suited him to have the Macs congregate there, but he had consulted the database to ascertain just what kind of threat Hostile 17 posed, and he'd discovered that it was a vampire. Of all the things he didn't need at the present, it was the vampirisation of his project. He collected the information, summoned a technician from the lab, and instructed him to bring a series of the chips that disempowered Hostile 17.
As the two set off in a sleek black vehicle, CSM reviewed the sketchy information he had taken from the X-Files concerning the vampires.
"These individuals require blood, but so far, I understand that the chip installed within Hostile 17 is functioning perfectly. I wish to be sure that he is alone, and will not be a danger to the replicas."
As they arrived in the hotel, the Smoker was already wondering how best to ensure his project's safety.
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Man, Rodney knew how she felt. He wanted Eugene terribly but at the same time, damn it, he wanted respect from his lover. He was still pissed about being locked in that room as if he was too stupid to think for himself. As soon as Eugene realized that Scully, the little red head, wanted to play doctor and the good looking guy with the awesome nose was also a doctor, he was out of there. He had a feeling that he was going to have to crawl to get Rodney back.
Manners were something Eugene knew a lot about but he planned to ignore them. He went down the corridor where he and Rodney had been staying and opened doors.
Okay, big bed, threesome of identical clones or Mac 27s...one of them waved, "Come hither" but Eugene just said, "Carry on,"
There was Skip Brule busily making sex magic with his wondrous Mac Smith. Eugene had never seen a frosting decorator used in that particular way before...remind him to avoid any decorated cupcakes for the duration.
The next room had a trapeze hanging from the ceiling, but it was vacant...Eugene put that one in his mind for later. After he had found Rodney...
Ah, there was Rodney sitting on a couch with Allison and her Mac Brown, who looked somewhat jealous and bent out of shape. Romeo and Jules, who Eugene knew well enough to pick out of a crowd of Mac 27s, were cooing to each other on the bed.
"I was just trying to keep you safe, Rodney. You went after that trained killer, babe."
Leaning closer to Alison, Rodney's lips pushed out in a sulky delicious pout. He said, "So you locked me in my room as if I was a kid. I may not be as smart as you, but I'm not stupid, Eugene. Ever since you got here, it's been Eugene this and Eugene that. I understand you being needed as a doctor, but I'm not your errand boy and I won't be anyone's fuck toy again, not even yours."
Romeo and Jules looked at them both as if they were insane. They shook their heads, reconnecting to each other and shutting out the world. Eugene wished that he could communicate with his lover as easy as that. Instead he was stuck with words and he was afraid that they would not be enough.
"Allison, talk some sense into him," Eugene said, "or just tell me if I'm in the wrong. I'll fix it. I can't live without him. I don't want to even think about it. Rodney, I know you're just as intelligent as I am. Smarter really. You helped me really get clean. I couldn't have kicked the drugs without you."
Allison sighed, glaring at Eugene. She'd seen this scene often enough, and knew Eugene meant well, but sometimes he took his "I'm the doctor and I know better than you" approach too far. Especially seeing as how he often used the ex-druggie card.
Allison sighed again. "Eugene, it's not a matter of right or wrong or smarter, exactly. It's... dammit, sometimes you act so high and mighty. Like just because you're a doctor you know everything, are better than everybody, and know what's right for everybody. I love you, you know that, but Sometimes... you know, I don't even think you know that's what you're doing. But when you locked Rodney in his room it really... it made him feel like a baby. I mean, I'm guessing that's how it made him feel."
She paused, looking at Rodney. "I didn't mean to speak for you," she said.
She looked back at Eugene. "I know you only meant to help. But that's what you do, you know? You ... you are capable and you do do a lot. But... that... there's a flip side. You alienate people when you act that way all the time... some people don't want to be fixed, and the rest..."
Allison looked at Rodney, then back at Eugene again. "Just... let him try things. Let him try... don't make him feel like a baby all the time, like you don't respect him for himself. Cause it's..."
Allison looked at Eugene steadily. She'd been down this way before, herself, countless times.
"When people act as if someone..."
She looked at Rodney.
"Just... just show each other a little more respect," she said. "Talk more. You know? You really need to... talk."
She looked back at Eugene. "Okay?"
She hoped so. She knew how badly they'd hurt each other before when they fought. Hell, one or another of them had ended up at her apartment for a night more often than she was sure any of them cared to remember.
Was he really so much better? After all, he'd been a doctor for a mobster.
Sometimes Eugene got down on himself about his past prostitution. What Eugene had done was also a form of prostitution.
And it had cost them both dearly. They just expressed it in different ways.
She felt they belonged together... so why did they hurt each other?
She pulled Rodney closer to her, looking at Mac Brown, seeing his sad expression. She said, "I'll be all yours in a moment."
Taking Mac Brown's hand, she said, "I'm sorry. We... humans... we can be like that."
She wondered if it would be better or worse to be mind-linked like the Mac 27s. She quickly decided it would be worse.
Would it, though? At least then in theory people would be more honest and direct. She'd know what they wanted...
She leaned in to give Mac Brown another piece of chocolate. "Do you want to... go somewhere and talk? You look a little down," she said. "What's wrong?"
How could he tell her how he felt? Watching Romeo and Jules, Mac Brown truly felt arousal for the first time. He who had opened his mouth and legs for so many men and used his tongue and cock on so many women was a virgin to really feeling anything until tonight. Now he hungered, yearned for what Romeo and Jules felt...not their connection, not for the love of his own kind.
It killed him to watch Allison touch his human look a like the same way she touched him. He had kept thinking it meant something that she liked him as more than a friend, but now he saw she saw him as someone to help, just another stray cat.
Rodney stood now, held out a hand to Eugene and nodded, "Yeah, I want to talk about it. You know I love you, but we have to work this thing out. When I found out that bastard was dead, the one thing I knew is that no one was going own me ever again and I was never going to whore myself for anyone. Not even you, Eugene, I can't accept not being your equal, being your fuck toy not even if the coin you offer me is affection. From now on, you don't make any decisions for me, Eugene."
Watching Sands' face, Mac Brown understood how it felt to have your life dangling on a string. Love was such a strange thing, that it could cause so much pain...
As Eugene took Rodney's hand, pressed his lips to his palm, and then took it in his own hand, Mac understood that it was worth it all. He could almost feel the hum of connection between Romeo and Jules...it drew him in and he had to fight to avoid the urge to beg them to let him inside of their connection. That wasn't what he wanted and he knew that they would feel nothing but pity for him. They had what they wanted...each other.
"I have to get out of here...away from them," Mac Brown said fiercely. "It's not fair...I never had that...I never felt that. All those times and I never really felt anything but pain and fear. Now, I want...."
The door was what he wanted. Mac walked only because it was too short a distance to run... Allison leapt from the bed, saying, "Excuse me," and ran out after Mac Brown. Catching up to him in the all, she put her arms around him, pulling him close.
"I know how you feel, Mac... I do. I... I want that, too?"
She looked at him, gazing into his eyes, willing him to see that her heart longed for more, too, and maybe...
She ran her hand down his shoulder and arm. "I need someone, too... see... there's..."
She looked back up at him. Could she tell him she'd been falling in love with him all this time? Romantic fool that she basically was... she usually kept that side of herself hidden lately. Jake had almost made her lose her faith in humanity...
She rested her head on his strong chest. "I need someone, Mac. I need... you?"
She looked at him. "You're brave, and kind, and strong... all things I'd like to be... you don't hurt people just because you can."
She took his hand. "Why don't we... go find a room..."
She didn't want to do anything to scare him off, but she didn't want to lose him, either, or make him feel like she didn't love him. She did...
Not sure she was doing the sane thing, but not really caring, just wanting to be with Mac Brown and make him happy, and maybe find peace herself, she found an empty room and invited Mac to join her.
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Methos stood, wondering what the hell. There had been a surge that had tingled up and down his skin, and then... He didn't know. Something had flared, he'd felt it, and the tired man he'd escorted into the infirmary had suddenly pitched forward. He shook his head and began to step forward to the man's assistance, only to be pre-empted by Ricky, who had suddenly moved to pick him up.
Not liking the way Methos was looking at the collapsing man, Anson stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Methos? Can I help?" Methos straightened slowly, The voice was husky, and intimate, but it was only when he turned that he realized it was Anson who was offering assistance. He smiled, a little relief showing in his face.
"Hello, love. I wish you would. I really don't know what's wrong with him."
Shrugging helplessly, Anson looked at the clone. "Do you know which one he is? I mean, did he just arrive? Can't you, ah, examine him - find the problem?"
"I don't think that it's going to help in his case? All I can say is that he's sending out some kind of energy waves. He did something strange with them; I felt them; then he keeled over. I don't know who he is, but I don't think that he should be left alone, and there isn't a bed left in here tonight." Methos shook his head. "Damn. I was looking forward to curling up with you, and now I'm going to have to stay with sleeping beauty here."
"No!" Anson protested. "Does he have to stay here? I mean, we could take him back to our room... the bed's plenty big enough for three. That way you can keep an eye on him and still be with me." Lowering his eyes, Anson peeked at Methos through his lashes. "I miss having you in bed with me."
A rush of heat flooded Methos' midsection, and he smiled, stepping close to give his love a quick kiss. "Are you sure that you don't mind? It would be wonderful I'm just about beat."
One hand rose to stroke Methos' cheek. "I don't mind, babe. I just want to lay next to you and dream." He stopped, blushing at his own syrupy words. "I know you're tired, Methos, let's go back to the room. You need to rest now."
Methos looked around and found a gurney. "Help me with him, babe. He's out for the count."
Anson stepped up and helped Methos load the guy onto the gurney. Carefully, he crossed lax arms over the man's chest and straightened his legs. Looking up, he noticed a curious expression on Methos' face. "What?" he asked defensively. "We don't want to have his limbs flopping all over the place do we?"
"You are so... " Methos stepped quickly around the gurney and kissed Anson again, harder this time. "That was kind, love. Come on. Lets get Rip Van Winkle into bed." Together they trundled off with Philip on the stretcher. Arriving back at the room, they quickly had Philip undressed and laid on the extreme edge of the king sized bed.
A jaw-cracking yawn reminded Anson that he was exhausted. He grinned at Methos and proceeded to strip.
Walking over to the bedside, he looked at the stranger, then at Methos. "I think I'll take the middle, if you don't mind."
Methos grinned, tiredly. "Anson, my love, I was kind of hoping that you would take the bottom!" He climbed in next to his vexatious love, and took him in his arms. "You know, it's only my extreme exhaustion that's saving you from me?"
A couple of deep, loving kisses later, and he was asleep, his head pillowed on Anson's shoulder.
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Denise appeared to be stirring and her color appeared better. Ricky sat down beside her/him and stroked back the dark waves of hair. Poor creature, he hoped she'd be all right. Horace had put her through enough to destroy her mind.
Wondering if it made a difference, Ricky said, "Denis? Denise? Anyway, I'm here. I won't leave again until you feel better. Did that man hurt you?"
She felt strange. A snake...? Had there been a snake? Of course not. How could there be? She felt Ricky's hand on her hair and turned to look at him, smiling tremulously.
"You helped me. You saved me from him. Thank you, Ricky."
Her expression was one of profound adoration as she slipped her hand up to touch his.
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He couldn't seem to stop tasting her lips, her tongue, the roof of her mouth, her teeth, but David made an effort to get his point across all the same. "Humans have a saying." That seemed to be a good start, allowing another kiss.
"Something about the spirit being willing, but the body being weak." A nibble at her earlobe at that point earned him an excited whimper. "That's my situation." A kiss of the base of her neck turned into a gentle bite. "Regrettably," he murmured, kissing the spot to apologize for the rough treatment.
"I don't care!" Sypher whispered fiercely, feeling a tear slip out of the corner of her eye. "I just want to touch you, feel you touching me. It's been so long, David. So very, very long." Her emotions demanding their due after years of being held firmly in check, she pulled him in for another desperate kiss, feeling it overtake her. She was sure that if she let him walk out now, he would easily convince himself not to return and the thought of it hurt so much she didn't know if she could bear up under the pain.
The realization made her feel so weak and inadequate--so female. Which was scary as hell, but she didn't care if he saw it. He was the only one she could be like this for, didn't he realize that?
Sypher writhed beneath him at the feel of teeth marking her skin and offered up her throat to his pleasure. "Then we can have food brought in," she panted, "or you can let me do all of the work and please you this time. I want to so badly, David. You taste so good...," she felt his penis jerk at that and shifted to bring him into her at last, but his hips twitched away from her body; pinning her more firmly to the bed and leaving her horribly frustrated by the pulsing heat a scant inch away as he continued to torture her with kisses. Noooooo,/she whimpered pitifully, /let me, David...let me, please...
Trailing kisses along her collarbone, he added, "And I ... made an agreement ... with One ... to meet ... with him and ... two others ... early this morning." Her hardened nipples showing in stark relief against her cotton clothing were impossible to resist. David sucked one into his mouth and stimulated it relentlessly with his tongue and teeth through the fabric. When he lifted his head, pulling against her hands that were urging him to remain, he murmured, "I don't want to be interrupted when I ..." Watching her face, David rubbed the nipple he'd just tormented between two fingers. Her whole body spasmed, making him smile, and he tilted his head and breathed into her ear, "Make love to you."
She cried out as her inner muscles contracted hard, bringing forth another slick flood of lubrication and leaving her even more deeply unsatisfied than she had been. "David, it's only dawn," she whimpered again as his tongue traced her ear and his teeth found her earlobe, "One isn't going to be expecting to meet with you right now. Besides, he said for you to return when you were able," she shifted slightly and felt him touch her--so close--and was rewarded with a hot, shuddering gasp, "and you're clearly not--able to return that is," so saying, she nipped his ear with a slight growl and got a full body tremor for her trouble.
His eyes were almost sad, as he slid a hand between their bodies, stroking her left inner thigh slowly, surely. "I'm a soldier, Sypher. Not like Baines. Not in that sense. But I do what must be done, not what I want to do. You make me want ... things. That makes you dangerous."
She grinned madly at him. "I know exactly what you mean. But how can any soldier be expected to continually fight when he's always denied the very things he's fighting for?
David wondered at her words. Denied? I have my freedom. That is what I fight for.
You tell me I'm dangerous, and you're right; but you're dangerous too, David. You're intelligent and cunning and, I suspect, capable of killing when you have to, just like me. But is that all you want to be?
Touching her relentlessly and enjoying her vigorous response as well as her continuing efforts to talk, David couldn't help but internally ask a question he had no intention of mentioning aloud. But what else is there, Sypher?
Is that how you want to define yourself for the rest of your existence? I know it isn't what I want for myself. And I think that we're probably the best things to have happened to each other in our entire lives. We," she gasped as his fingers entered her and his thumb found her clit, "we fit together. Together...," the rest stalled out as he mercilessly pushed her into a climax, staring down into her eyes the entire time.
Suddenly kissing her as though he was starving and she was a fuel source, David whispered, "Dangerous ... exciting ... tempting ... maddening ... Damn it, Sypher, what are you doing to me?"
The same thing you're doing to me, beloved. He looked startled at the term of endearment.
Beloved? The sincerity behind her words was easy to ascertain when she spoke to him this way. After a moment, David decided that that might be one of the differences between having sex and making love. The lexicon was different.
/Didn't you know that was what your name meant? she giggled.
"I did," he muttered, frowning at her amusement, but unable to maintain it when she started stroking his back.
Although I could call you something else for the way you keep torturing me. Demon, most beautiful of all Lucifer's childer sent to corrupt and ravage my soul for eternity. But what you don't realize is that I'm more than willing to let you do it if it means that you'll stay with me.
The concept of staying with another being was known to David but something that he'd never considered. It was nearly impossible to consider it now with the way she was rubbing herself against him. Skin-level sensors were screaming at his pleasure centers, and David wasn't able to dampen the signals much.
That precious crease at the top of his nose was back, and she leaned up to kiss it. Somewhere in that positronic brain of yours, David, has to be a reference to Christian theology and ideology. Your number..., he still looked confused, in Christianity, 666 is the mark of the beast.
David checked the references quickly, noting with satisfaction that the efficiency was nearly 96% of his normal capacity. He still wasn't clear about what Sypher wanted with a Biblical beast when she shifted her weight and moved.
And, a quick, savage wiggle found her back at his groin, since you've marked me as your concubine, to my duties I willingly and happily go, she pulled him into her mouth with a hungry growl and sucked hard and fast, swallowing him deep and using every trick she knew to bring him off in record time.
In contrast to most of what she'd been saying, the thought of Sypher as a concubine was understandable to him. The movements of her mouth were those of a highly accomplished and very determined one, David thought, just before he lost the ability to process data meaningfully. Control of his body was next to go. All he could manage was to tangle his fisted hands in the sheets and emit inarticulate sounds. Words were beyond him. His scream when he came would've been right at home coming from the mouth of a beast of Biblical or other, more mundane proportion. It faded to muted groans as she licked him clean and into silence when she slid up next to him and wrapped her arms around him.
David sought order in the chaos that Sypher had made of his systems and subsystems. He almost laughed when he realized that the diagnostic protocols he'd began what seemed so long ago had run and patches had already been created. Once the resets were tripped, he was as functional as he'd been in a long time, although dangerously low on fuel. This was a vastly different brand of maintenance than David was used to but he had to admit that it was admirably successful.
A surreptitious call as she cuddled him close had a tray of food at their door quickly, and she brushed a chocolate covered cherry against his lips. "Eat, baby," she whispered, putting the confection in her mouth and feeding him by kiss when he wouldn't comply. A half-dozen cherries later, he finally opened his eyes and pinned her with a laser bright stare. "Welcome back, lover," she whispered gently, unable to determine his mood and hoping that he could see the fierce love she felt for him...
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I'll go," Luke agreed, "but only because you will. I'm not going to re open the connection though until after the meeting. It might be a good thing, but I want to find out what I can do on my own."
"No, Luke," Ryan murmured. "Don't do this because of me and what I intend. Do it for the second reason -- because you want to know what you can do."
Smiling, Simms added, "Part of being an individual is being a little or a lot selfish when you need to be. I think you might need that right now."
Lowering his lashes, Luke pushed closer to Ryan. The truth was that he yearned to fill the emptiness he felt where all his brothers had been and that he wished with all his heart that he could feel something like that with his human lover. He reached up to brush his fingertips across his skull. Was there really a human brain inside of there? Did that make him human?
The world was a confusing place. When he worked for Farmer Orville, the man seemed to be sure he knew all the right answers. What was good? What was bad? That Luke was not human and had no soul. That fornication was bad and being beautiful was bad because it tempted good folks to sin...
"Are you ok?" Ryan asked, running his hands up and down Luke's back, wondering if he was cold. One look in his eyes suggested not. Whatever Luke was thinking, it wasn't all good.
With a shudder, Luke made a leap of logic. He suddenly understood why Farmer Orville beat him. It had been such a ceremony...taking off his overall, being made to kneel and pray with the man, then the beating and afterwards, the farmer had scrubbed him down in a tub, telling him that he should pray to be made clean. Luke had never understood how he could still be dirty after such a through bath, the scrubbing brush had been so stiff that he really worried for his skin sensors and the integrity of his soft human like layer of epidermis. He finally understood that it was Farmer Orville who should have washed himself. It was him that wanted what he considered a bad thing.
"Luke?" Ryan ventured once more after watching Luke stare at his own hands and rub them together for almost a full minute.
Hugging Ryan, Luke said, "My master said that I had no soul, Ryan, but I think he was wrong. Could I want so much? Could I yearn to become more than I am if I had no soul. I think he was wrong. He was wrong about a lot of things...especially about fornication. It's not a bad thing; it's really one of the best things of all when you love someone. If you think that it's the right thing to help One and David, then I'll try, but they can't ask me to hurt you. I'd rather be terminated than do that."
He meant it too. Before he met Ryan, he had been so ignorant. He may as well have been a tractor. Now things were infinitely complex, but that was all right. He knew he was alive now and every moment he spent with Ryan, he felt more alive, more unique. He didn't envy One or David nor Romeo and Jules. He didn't need to be the best or the smartest nor did he want what the android lovers had. He was happy to be Luke. Happy to be with Ryan for as long as his beloved would allow it.
"I don't know if you have a soul Luke." Chuckling, Ryan added, "Only because I don't know if I have one. But I suspect that if I do, you probably do, too."
With a playful grin, he continued, "Here's hoping you're right about fornication, though. It'd be a shame if something that ... incredible was a "don't" from the soul perspective. Assuming we have souls, of course."
Seeing Luke's serious pondering of his words, Ryan hastened to clarify. "I was just trying to make a joke, Luke. What we did last night wasn't wrong. It couldn't be."
The bright smile was reward enough, but Ryan thought he had a few more points to make. "As to David and One, we'll go and listen and then we'll decide what to do. Not me. Us. Ok?"
Luke looked away without responding.
"Don't substitute me for One, Luke. That'd be a bad choice. Besides, I don't want to be your mentor. There's another role I'd rather play, if that's okay with you."
Ryan whispered the last phrase in Luke's ear, pitching his voice as low and husky as he could. Luke shivered and turned back toward him.
"And think about this for a minute. If One and David want someone to hurt me, they aren't going to choose you. Why would they go through the effort to convince you to do it, when they could co-opt someone who doesn't know me, tell them a story about me betraying Mac 27s or something and have them deal with me? So I doubt that that's what they're after, but I do appreciate the reassurance about what you'd do if they did. Really."
Luke snuggled back into Ryan's arms once more and Simms couldn't tell if the android's trembling was a good sign or not.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
The smell of chocolate covered cherries sent his emotive subsystems into a furor again. Tired, David sighed and moved his head away.
"Eat, baby," she whispered, putting the confection in her mouth and feeding him by kiss when he wouldn't comply.
When she kissed him, he opened his mouth and she bit down on one of the confections. Despite the impulses the smell and taste sent roaring through his system, David needed fuel, so he cooperated for the most part. Although, it was pleasant when Sypher licked the liquid that they missed that ended up on his chin.
A half-dozen cherries later, he finally opened his eyes and pinned her with a laser bright stare. "Welcome back, lover," she whispered gently, unable to determine his mood and hoping that he could see the fierce love she felt for him...
Fascinated by her expression, David reached out and touched Sypher's face, gently tracing her cheekbone and then her chin with his fingertips. Only when she took his hand and brought it to her lips did he realize it had been shaking slightly. The flicks of her tongue on his palm sent stimulating signals to his brain that didn't make it to other parts of his anatomy -- his energy level was too low. Her slow smile had the same effect.
When he merely continued to stare at her in silence, Sypher felt her heart drop. She wanted to close her eyes against that steady gaze, but needed to let David see how sorry she was for pushing him as far as she had. I'm sorry, my beloved demon, she whispered mournfully. I know you're low on fuel, but I couldn't stop...didn't want to...I just wanted..., a tremor passed through her as she tried to hold back her feelings; afraid of his reaction to them, afraid of putting him off with her need. Oh, David, I'm so sorry. Forgive me?
Awkwardly, he levered himself up into a half sitting position with his free hand and looked over to the tray she'd had sent in. A huge carafe of the liquid that One had concocted sat nearly in the middle of an impressive array of chocolate and chocolate-containing items. Freeing his hand from her grasp, he pulled Sypher to his chest and reached around her to pour a large glass of the beverage. Running his fingers through her hair, he methodically consumed several chocolate donuts and the drink. When he poured himself another, David knew he could no longer ignore Sypher's tension in favor of fuel intake.
Settling back next to her, David wondered, "Why is it different with you? I haven't felt like that in ..." His voice trailed off when he realized that the appropriate answer could just as easily be several hours as over two years. The forced reboot had been remarkably similar in some respects to what he'd just experienced. He'd been at the mercy of another being and it had been ... amazing.
Sypher had no good answer to that question for him, even though she knew what her own was. There was no way she could dare to expect that he could feel the same way, despite what the Oracle had told her.
Focusing on the woman, his eyes were drawn to the bite mark on her neck. David traced its outline with his forefinger, whispering, "The concubine of the beast." Smiling wryly, he added, "Is that what you want out of your life, Sypher? Would that be enough for you, soldier that you are?"
Is he offering...could he really...want...me? she asked herself as her heart beat wildly. She pushed the hope down, not wanting to read anything into his words. "I've never been given a choice before," she answered honestly. "My whole life has been about being a tool--a weapon--because that's what a soldier is; but I always wanted more. Now...I think that...being a soldier could finally be enough for me, if I knew that there was someone who accepted me for what I am and wanted me in spite of it. Perhaps the question should be whether or not a soldier would be enough of a concubine for the beast."
She was looking at him with wide eyes, clearly uncertain of his meaning. David wasn't either, but he knew what he wanted to do and felt reckless enough to do it. Sypher was right. It was early. One wouldn't need him for an hour or so yet. And she had said that she would make no future demands of him, so there seemed little point in denying the impulse. Glancing back at the tray and pulling lightly at the lower edge of her t-shirt, he murmured, "Take this off."
Sypher trembled at the low husky growl in David's voice. It went straight through her, raising goose-bumps everywhere and suddenly she couldn't comply fast enough. With a shock, she realized that he was going to give her what she'd asked for and also that she might not have the strength to keep her end of the deal when it was over. Then there was nothing but David as he stared hungrily at her and the familiar meltdown throughout her body as she displayed it for his pleasure. Leaning back on her elbows, she flexed slightly to call his attention to her stiff, aching nipples; hoping that he would taste them again.
David swallowed when she removed the garment with a flourish and tossed it on the floor next to the bed. Her body was as he remembered it. Firm. Taut. With softness where softness should be. Leaning forward, David kissed her, slowly and thoroughly, urging her onto her back. Pulling a chocolate cream filled donut closer, David smiled at Sypher and proceeded to take his time painting her nipples with the cream. When he was finally satisfied with his artwork and the amount of squirming she was doing as well as the occasional whimper that escaped her lips, he poured himself another glass of the beverage and drank it down in one continuous swallow, oddly stimulated by the feel of her watching his throat as he did it.
Putting the glass aside, he leaned over Sypher, stared into her eyes for a long moment and slowly licked his lips. She moaned and he bent over her and lapped first one stiff chocolate covered treat and then the other. In no hurry, because the fuel was still working its way through his system, he licked her until not a particle of chocolate remained and kissed her, letting her taste the chocolate cream for herself.
"You taste good, too," he murmured in her ear, lowering the pitch of his voice to one that he remembered that she liked. "And I need fuel so badly."
His voice sent her into tremors again and Sypher had a sudden vision of a tiger stalking his prey...or his mate. The image caused a sharp, paradoxically delicious pain as blood rushed to her groin and her need spiked out of control. Gasping, she rocked against him helplessly as her mind chanted, ...takemetakemetakemetakeme..., while she whimpered at the feel of his body against hers.
Gently extricating himself from her grasp, David reached for the tray again and crushed two chocolate covered cherries in his hand before running it sensuously along her inner thigh. Her breathing was ragged and he could smell the secretions that signaled her arousal when he offered his hand to her lips. "Your turn, Sypher. And then it will be mine again."
Licking greedily at his hand, she could feel the liquid he'd smeared on her thighs slowly making it's way towards the sheet and cried out at the feel of his searing tongue gently lapping it away, as carefully and thoroughly as he had the chocolate cream from her breasts.
The combined smells of chocolate covered cherries and Sypher were overrunning David's abilities to process them. Her arousal and the stimuli she was emitting were demanding that he channel the fuel that he'd taken in to please her. As he consumed the chocolate he'd spread on her thigh, he could feel the beginnings of the renewal of his own need.
By the time he brushed the point of his tongue against her aching clit, Sypher was beyond caring about concealing her emotions. She was beyond caring about anything but David, who was burning her up from the inside out with the force of his desire. Or maybe it was her own. Either way, it didn't matter. She was in a place she hadn't seen in over two years, completely open to another soul and basking in the fierce heat of it.
David could sense Sypher's joy, her need to culminate their passion. Something deep within him responded to it. Subsystems of which he'd been unaware until the forced reboot engaged programs that had never been run to his knowledge. One little push was all it took for her, but David felt like he was tumbling after her over a different sort of precipice, falling into an unknown realm where only she and he existed. Even as he seemed to fall, his body acted.
Beloved, she cried as orgasm overtook her; feeling him penetrate her in one savage thrust, then pound mercilessly as she met him thrust for thrust.
The endearment flowed through David's consciousness, triggering further responses against his will. Indeed, the concept of will was elusive at the moment. He was no longer a separate entity. He belonged to her as he'd belonged to One during the reboot. But, here, she belonged to him as well. And he gloried in it.
A torrent of emotions poured into her mind, the most prevalent being wonder and a curiously sweet sense of possession. It felt like she was being wrapped in a wordless cry of 'minemineminemine' and she snuggled into it, giving herself over completely to David and whatever he wanted.
He could feel her accede to him, place herself into his care, accept being completely at his mercy. The power she'd given him went beyond a way to assuage his lust. It was pure in the way that fire was, and by giving that power without reservation, she'd retained it's equivalent over him. He wanted her to have that power almost as much as he wanted her, a realization that under any other circumstance would've stopped him cold. Secured and seduced by the heat of her body, he was unable to deny her or himself.
Yes, she whispered, knowing he could hear her, I am yours, for as long as you may want me. To the rest of the world I am a soldier, but for the Beast I am concubine, and it is more than enough. I love you, David. I have from the beginning. That was why I reacted the way I did when you revealed yourself to me.
Love? What is love? Is it this powerful powerlessness? Is it this undeniable pleasure?
Without warning, he crushed her against him and sucked hard on the base of her throat as he shuddered against her...and she could only wonder about the sudden extra wetness there for a moment before another orgasm and unconsciousness dragged her under.
When she came to, it was to find him staring at her in shock and panic crept into her chest. "David? Beloved? What's wrong?"
"I ...," was all he could manage at first. There was both too much and too little to say.
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She didn't want to do anything to scare him off, but she didn't want to lose him, either, or make him feel like she didn't love him. She did...
Not sure she was doing the sane thing, but not really caring, just wanting to be with Mac Brown and make him happy, and maybe find peace herself, she found an empty room and invited Mac to join her.
The strongest emotion he felt was fear. He knew that he was supposed to have vast stores of intellect and reason yet his experiences drove him instead. Watching Romeo and Jules make love had confused him utterly. His body wanted. Something told him that he was capable of that...that sex didn't have to be what his past told him it was.
Yet, his desire was so strong...his body cringed with the memories of hands on him. Cruel hands, lustful hands, demanding his service and then making him think that he had failed to please them and he deserved the pain that was always part of the taking.
His master had always said that it was his fault, that he was imperfect, not what he had ordered, lazy, clumsy, ugly...he should be glad that master and his friends could even bear to touch him.
But he wasn't. He wasn't grateful. He hated what they did to him, hated the pain that he was so exquisitely able to feel.
Allison was the first person that he trusted enough to want to experience what his eyes told him was possible. Yet he was afraid that he was tainted. He didn't want to hurt Allison, but every touch he had ever experienced except hers was pain.
Now he felt such need, such longing to touch, to be touched. It consumed him, but he had to be sure that he would not hurt Allison. He wished there was a way to be rebooted. That someone could write over the pain and the humiliation...
Yet he reached for Allison's hand and held on tightly. He trusted her as he trusted no other...she had saved him. She told him to live. When he looked in her eyes, he saw himself. They had both been hurt so much...surely they would never hurt each other?
Looking in her eyes, he saw only concern for him, concern, the remainders of the longing they had felt as they watched what they had been denies...pleasure untouched by pain...two bodies becoming one, and trust.
Raising her hand to his mouth, Mac Brown sealed his yearning with a kiss. He was frightened yet his need was stronger. She would be safe with him. He was not Jake. And she was not his master. She was Allison whom he loved, trusted, and ... desired.
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Leaving Michael and Baines to themselves, Johnny checked in on Jess. She was curled on the bed. One eye opened and shut, and she snuggled deeper into the sheets.
Figuring she'd be hungry when he woke up, he went back to the cafeteria.
For the next several hours Baines and Michael went through the house looking into rooms, asking questions of everyone they met. The house was a beehive of activity and surprisingly little was missed by the Macs. One was still waiting on David, who was with the cyborg Sypher. Luke had cut himself off from contact with the Macs. Scully had taken a chip out of Hobbes' body. That fact got Baines inner bells ringing. He didn't say anything to Michael but led him back through the house continuing his surveillance and questioning until he reached the infirmary. Ricky was sitting holding hands with Denise and Skinner was still unconscious. Scully was nowhere to be seen. The infirmary contained an x-ray machine. Now to find someone to operate it for him. There had to have been a reason why all the clones arrived in D.C. almost simultaneously. He searched around the room and found a vial containing a small piece of metal. Could this be the chip taken from Hobbes? He would have to find Scully and ask. But first, find out if he and Michael had a similar device implanted in their bodies. If that were the case, then he would see to it that One examined the chip. Find out what danger there was in removing it from the host. Find out whether the danger could be circumvented. Find out how many of the clones also had similar implants.
Going back over the information he had gathered, he was piecing together random facts. Abductees called to their deaths on Skyland Mountain. If the clones had implants that called them to DC, could they be called away from the compound?
Damn, there was never enough time.
Michael was silent, watching Leigh poke around the infirmary waiting patiently for his lover to tell him what had brought the crease to the bridge of his nose. Something was worrying him.
"Michael, we need to find Scully. I want her to take an x-ray of both of us."
"Why?"
"Something called us to DC. No matter what our original plans or destination, every clone found himself coming here. I want to find out if it was something tangible. Something that might cause a problem in the future."
Nodding to Ricky, Baines and Michael left the infirmary in search of Scully or an android knowledgeable enough to operate the x-ray machine
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