The Game 2
Edited by Karen Leigh
There are two of us, Sypher told David firmly with a slight nod in One's direction, and only one of you. If I can decrease my demands on you, why shouldn't I? Besides, this is my function, beloved. Like it or not, the problems that come with it are...maybe not normal, but to be expected because of my makeup. I've grown used to it. Just...rest, and promise me that you will make our beloved leader do the same. Her tone was slightly sly and possessive and she couldn't help the tiny smirk that accompanied it. He has Luke to help him now, so he could take a few minutes for a quick maintenance cycle, and you should as well.
Only when she mentioned the fact did David become fully aware that Luke had, in fact, accessed and assimilated the necessary information, was sitting in front of the computer with an unfocused expression, and appeared to be communicating with remote Mac 27s. David almost smiled when he realized that unit 55 was processing the smaller amount of filth that had clung to him despite Sypher's admonitions to the contrary. Undoubtedly, Luke had plenty of practice dealing with manure and similar substances.
She then gave him the equivalent of a long, loving kiss, and let him and One feel her love and strength. I love you, she whispered quietly, reaching for the needle...but David got to it first.
"David, please...we have no time for argument...time's running out..."
"Then do not argue with me," David suggested, holding the syringe out of Sypher's reach. "You want me to establish a quick rest cycle. I will." Tossing the needle into an unoccupied corner and firmly leading her back to Youngblood and Wild Thing, he added, "After we get you through this."
Sypher felt like a small child about to be disciplined as David hauled her back to the I-Macs. "I don't need you to baby-sit me!" she huffed angrily, but melted as David hesitantly nuzzled her and murmured something about not wanting her to be alone. "Okay," she whispered sadly, "you win, Demon."
Without looking over his shoulder, David noted, She's right, One. You can take a few minutes to refresh and you should. I'll need you to cover for me in a short while. For One alone, he appended, I am uncertain how much energy I will have to spare after this.
Settling her where the others indicated, David pulled Sypher into his arms and whispered, "I'm not quite as fragile as you seem to think." Switching communication styles without even realizing he'd done it, he continued, Not after ... His mental voice trailed off, but David couldn't keep his eyes from tracking to One. The reboot had been invasive, compelling and a number of other things David had no time at present to analyze, but there was something subtly strengthening about it as well.
Brushing her hair out of her eyes, David stared into them for a long moment. He felt her relief and her guilt. Stop, Sypher. This is my decision and I will not be convinced to act otherwise. Gently, he kissed her and asked, "Are you ready?"
Instead of answering, Sypher ducked her head and lifted her hair, exposing her neck and the I/O port's aperture. Already apprehensive, she shuddered when she felt David's lips touch the spot.
David knew that he had made another mistake. It was difficult -- dealing with humans. Sometimes they admired, appreciated and indeed wanted direct communication. Directness was a style that David employed as a default, unless he was dealing with clients or potential adversaries or people he did not know. But Sypher had thought he was patronizing her when he had taken a direct approach with respect to the sedative. After blindingly rapid but careful analysis of their recent interactions, David saw no sure method to ascertain when she would feel that way and when she would accept his effort as simply the way that he did things. He was wondering if there were files that might shed some light on this matter when she reacted.
A moan was torn from her as the hook-up slowly went in, and then she could feel her lover steadying her as she got ready for digital freefall. It felt so good to have him there, so right, and some of her fear eased as she felt the last of the external preparations being made.
There was no time to wonder now. David didn't know what exactly to expect, but it was clear that it would be painful for her. To be able to say that he'd kept his promise, David engaged a series of baseline maintenance programs that he could run while still being aware enough of other things to assist Sypher if he could.
But there was still work to do and it wasn't going to be easy. "My work is now completed and I stand ready to make the exchange. The password is all that's required..."
David took a moment to check his files on Sypher, even though he fully recalled her true name. It was a beautiful name -- haunting in a way.
One's gentle mental nudge forced David to realize that he was stalling in an effort to spare Sypher pain and how futile that effort was. The pain would come, regardless. If she was to endure it, best to do so when disgorging the data she carried.
Will you ... you see that she comes to no harm if I ...?
There was amusement in One's reply and another, slightly less gentle push to do what must be done.
For her ear only, David softly spoke her given name. He wasn't prepared for the immediate tension that filled her body or the strength in the hands that clawed at his back. If he'd been a human, the bruises would have been spectacular.
David reached out mentally for her and was stunned to find that the quick, light communication path was unavailable. He couldn't reach her through the emotions that were buffeting her -- fear, anger, joy, and pain. A wave of lust took him along with it, and David could barely resist the urge to act, as she seemed to be demanding. After what might have been a fraction of a second or an hour, he had no way to judge at the moment, the lust faded to a deeper, more intense emotion that frightened him with its intensity.
Finally, one of her hands settled with a tight grasp in his hair and the other rested, fist clenched, on his hip. Giving up on trying to reach the logical part of her mind, David settled for projecting as much calm and support as he could to the tumultuous emotions that he could touch, holding on to Sypher and the hope that his proximity helped somewhat.
He was vaguely aware of the room around him and the beings moving about within it, but he was being drawn away from the reality of Skip's office into that of Sypher's emotions.
Alex Krycek, followed by Hobbes and Mulder, entered the room, and Alex looked a little relieved. There was David, and as a bonus, One was present too. He wasn't at all sure he was happy about the cyborg's presence but David seemed to welcome it, so he was prepared to put up with it, just as long as there were no further self-righteous inquests into his behavior.
"One, David, I think that you need to listen to Tom's story, and we need to get some planning together." He gestured for Tom to come forward, and then Mulder. "We have a whole bunch of things that will need setting up. First, I think that you need to hear what Tom has to say. He's been in the thick of things."
Hobbes looked at Alex then back at One and David. It was so eerie how all of them looked exactly like the man he was in bed with not to long ago. He stepped up to Alex's side then studied the three before him.
He got the sense that they seemed uneasy around Alex, and as for Mulder...Well even he was uneasy around him. He didn't like the way Mulder looked at him after Alex showed him affection. It was as if he wanted to kill him. He guessed he should stay away from Alex as far as the affection part went, he didn't want to upset Mulder if the two were lovers and he didn't want to be used to make the other jealous.
But if Mulder was not Alex's lover... and Alex didn't claim him as such, Hobbes was going to beat the crap out of him for treating him poorly. He may be shorter but he was trained by America's finest. He turned his attention to those before him. "Okay, what do you want to know? Cause if you are going up against anyone, even Santiago... you need to know all the information you can on your enemy, just fighting is not going to cut it."
Baines had moved back and stood against the wall of Skip's office and watched the latest group interaction.
Mulder noted the clone standing against the wall. Something about his stance and the way his eyes moved over the people in the room made Mulder focus on him temporarily. The clone cocked his head and a thrill ran through Mulder. Over the past few weeks Mulder had met Alex in all imaginable forms and permutations but this one....this one came closest to the real thing. Something in Mulder recognized him and knew instinctively that like Alex he was chameleon-like in his ability to flow from edgy to dangerous to ice cold to tender. Mulder wasn't sure that Alex would like this one. He might play with some, be amused by others but this one was too close to the archetype. Those eyes hid a devious mind. A mind that just might see more than his secretive lover would or could tolerate. The clone's eyes met Mulder's and as if reading his mind the face smirked and then blanked once more as the man moved away from the wall. Gliding like a predator on the balls of his feet Baines moved around the group and out the door.
Having been built as a server for the Mac 27s, One was mastering multitasking now that some new things had been awakened in him by the fascinating, fatally enthralling reboot. He continued to distribute the file through the Net, but brought his immediate attention to the humans who had crowded into the already overpopulated room.
"We will be glad to have you share your knowledge with us. As for Santiago, perhaps it would be best to divide our tasks. We seem to have many fronts on which to fight unless Santiago is part of the alien's human allies?" One asked.
One tried not to watch David and Sypher with too much of his mind.
'Can you lose what you never had?" One pondered. He wished that he could just surrender himself into the whole of his brothers...why had he feelings if they just gave him pain? Love was a useless gift if he loved the unobtainable...
Hobbes looked at the man, "Santiago works for himself and no one else. He may be using them if he is but I doubt it. He already has his empire started; he just needs to bring it to the real world. He may be waiting...for you and the aliens to battle, and then he will come in to pick up the pieces the battle has left behind. He can be a very patient man." Hobbes warned.
"Our best bet is to take out the immediate threat and remain free." He suggested, throwing a glance back at Alex. He tilted his head at the other two wondering what they were doing. "But then... Santiago may come in handy... he has an army... a large army... people who would follow him to the end."
"If we can convince him that these aliens threaten his world as well... our numbers will double," He suggested. "Plus... It will keep him from trying to destroy you as well. A possible alliance may need to be made with the man."
Alex cast a quick glance at Tom. He hadn't broached this before, and it seemed to Alex to be a very bad idea. He shook his head and looked down, waiting to hear what One would have to say about it.
One frowned. He wondered why they were pressing this decision now? He knew better to involve Skip directly in the decision, but he alerted Mac Smith to relay the conversation to the man. As for himself, he needed David and Sypher's input before he said a word.
There were voices now. In the place where David had been. Familiar voices -- human he thought, but he could not attach an identity to them, nor make out the words. Concepts and emotions came through, but he did not know whether they were accurate. Urgency. Necessity. Concern. An idea of some sort.
Where he was there was only pain. Her other emotions had been overwhelmed by pain of such intensity that he could not imagine how Sypher withstood it. David still could not reach her, so he took on as much pain as he could and hoped that was of assistance.
Through the pain, David could feel One's uncertainty. It was difficult to concentrate ... to separate Sypher's pain from what One was feeling
There was a presence outside of where she was...reaching for her, trying to touch...to soothe. No. Not yet. Still too much pain...didn't want to hurt that one...loved...him...loved...them? Yes...but there was only one here now...one that was impossibly two...
She was so tired and confused...too much pain...and the memories were all coming back. Her identity, her mission, her life...but the pain was too overwhelming to allow for fear yet.
She could feel the other now...the one who meant so much to them both. Confusion touched her and she could feel a question, but couldn't decipher it. Where she was there was pain--and a presence that compelled and comforted her. She wanted nothing more than to snuggle into it and forget...forever. To not have to be the person she'd forgotten ever again. Don't make me...please don't make me...
Human beings were very puzzling. Was it wise to ally with a man who openly wanted to enslave humans as Mac 27s had been enslaved?
It was easy to see what One's thoughts were, because they matched Alex's own so closely.
"You're thinking that it's not a great idea, I can tell. What can I say? I think that you're right. Far better to kill him, or contain him if we can. It needs to be looked at though, and you needed to hear about the son of a bitch." Alex shook his head. "I've got to get after Wraith and do something to stop him before he starts turning out rogue Macs that will destroy the resistance. Mulder has special talents that are going to come into their own now. He can sense the alien presence. When an alien artifact is around, he can hear them - it isn't telepathy precisely but it's damned useful anyway. I want to take him with me, and I need to have a Mac27 so that I can stay in touch with you. What do you say?" He shook his head once more, self deprecatingly. I think that with this one will need all the help I can get. I brought him here thinking that you guys would be able to contain and re-program him, but now he's loose, and he's nuts. We need the Macs. They are more than toys - you of all people know that. You Macs were created to do a job that we humans are not capable of doing for ourselves, and that was the only reason I permitted my DNA to be used. Now, it seems that the Macs are in trouble, and we humans need to return the favor and get them out of it as soon as possible. The day will come when the Macs will be all that stands between humanity and colonisation."
Suddenly, a question came through relatively clearly. The concept of a common enemy floated into David's logic processors, but he couldn't focus enough to send anything to One. How had this other link - this one that had so recently become too strong, so very insistent - been impacted? That question led inevitably to another, more basic one. Where am I?
In the void. The answer came as naturally as the question had, and it turned her attention outside of herself somewhat, because she suddenly realized that it hadn't come from her. It had come from the one who shared himself with her--the one who was now as much a part of her as she was of him. And they both belonged to another--another who didn't yet realize...the source of the confusion? Must be...
One's inclination was to say 'no.' They hadn't even tested their resources. Surely, there was power beyond even the obvious. One felt his brother's building in strength and unity even as they developed their unique talents. Then there were the mysterious clones, wondrous creatures all, as alike and unique as snow flakes, as beautiful too. Surely they also had a purpose?
The allies too....beautiful Sypher.
Beautiful? She was beautiful? No. She was plain, quiet and shy...little Sypher, always tagging along after Neo and Trin; always trying to stay out of Switch's and Apoch's way so they wouldn't bully her; geeky little Sypher, who hung out with Mouse because they understood each other so well; little Sypher, who always questioned and challenged Morpheus, little Sypher, always afraid of everything but charging in regardless to keep from being called a baby...
Strong Walter, the impetuous yet wily Skip, and the Mulder clones, Eugene and Denis. Jess with her curse that might be a blessing when they needed her was equally strong as her student Baines, the warrior. Allison with her compassion and fierce protective instincts. This was strength and purity of purpose. Was One to assume that good was weakness? He didn't think so, but he was willing to see what Hobbes and Alex could do with their idea.
Inventory. One was taking inventory. David sensed a path and tried to send approval, but a silent scream from Sypher drove into his system, threatening to overload his emotive subsystems. His efforts to take those same subsystems off line failed.
PAIN!!!! ohfuckingjesussomuchpain...the other was reaching for her again, and she could feel his helplessness and despair...David. No, Demon...don't cry for me...so sorry, didn't mean to hurt...love you...my David...didn't want you to see this...to feel this...it isn't supposed to be like this...why is it like this?
One shrugged and said, "Is there anything you need from us? I'm not sure that I agree with you. To ally with someone who might sell us to the aliens in a moment does not seem wise, but I will listen to your logic. Later, when my...when David and Sypher are able to converse, I will discuss it with them."
"Yeah. I think that it's wise to wait for them. I'll hang around here with you and wait then. I really need to get things hashed out, and I imagine that you'd like the play-by-play too. I don't have that many ideas on this one, and I suspect that I'm likely to wind up dead if I'm not careful. I'm happy to put my life on the line if it's to good purpose, but I don't go out into the darkness without a flashlight. I won't be racing off on my white horse without some clue that I might stand a chance of winning." Alex finished speaking and waited for One to say something - anything.
David was reeling. Impossibly, the pain was worsening and abstractions were flowing into him as well. Good as a synonym for weak. The possibility or probability of treachery. A fierce wave of possessiveness.
More pain, coming from outside herself...the other, not David...so lonely he was, and her heart wanted to reach out to him, welcome him in and keep him safe...he was part of David, part of her, and he belonged with them...not right that he should be alone and keep himself apart...
Imagining he and Sypher in the meditation garden, quiet, calm and at peace, David habitually sorted through the input. Her muscles relaxed and she almost fell, making him grateful for something tangible that he could do to help her. Picking her up, he held her close to his chest.
The pain was lessening, but now she was so tired all she could do was ride the wave. She actually liked this part, sensed that this was how it was supposed to be and felt the same sense of frustration that she always did when that realization came. She wanted to be able to ride the wave without pain and enjoy the freedom like her Demon did. She wanted to make love with him here in this place...wanted to love them both. But now wasn't the time. The upload was gearing down, and too soon they were going to be expected back in the real. And now that she had her memories back, there were things that David needed to know.
Opening his eyes, One came into view, coalescing some of the other input in interpretable form. Something warm and comforting flowed toward him and David followed it to the source, forming the communication he needed to make on the way.
One. You are proof that good is not weak. If the possibility of treachery is greater than zero, the probability is high. Sooner or later. Common enemy or no. Be ready. We ... we will be back with you as soon as we can.
Spent, David closed his eyes, swaying a bit on his feet. One of the units who was helping Sypher on the technical side -- Youngblood he thought -- steadied him and steered him to a chair that David couldn't recall being at its current location. When he sank down into it, David thought perhaps the pain she was enduring was lessening. For her sake and his own, he hoped so.
Snuggling into her demon, she dozed in the beautiful space he'd created for them. I tried to warn you off, she murmured lazily, I didn't want to hurt you. Tracing gently down his chest, she whispered, I remember who I am now. I remember everything. I'm not sure I should thank you for that. It means that there are things you need to know about me, David, and I don't know how it's going to change us after I tell you. But you need to know what you're up against--really up against--if my mission is to be successful here.
You know who and what I am...but you don't know why I'm here--why I'm really here. You need to listen with an open mind now, beloved, because a lot of what you're going to hear is going to sound pretty fantastic. But I promise you that it's true...and that I love you more than anything. Remember that for me. I was inserted and put online in 2568, 550 years after the Great War that enslaved humanity to the AI. I am a child of the Matrix...
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Lest his proud colors be erased from the entire tapestry of the Iridescence, DarkCyan008 vowed, "I will wipe them out. I will find all there defenses and turn them on each other. The humans will supplicate to bear our young and feed the beauty of the Grey Nymphs.
As soon as DarkCyan008 stepped over the threshold of his temporary home, he was ready to go to his hexagon. Dreaming of the day when hive attendants would groom him, he released his human pet from its crate. It crept forward trembling on hands and knees, knowing better than to ask for any comforts until it had performed its function. DarkCyan008 buzzed, "You may begin your duties,"
Humans were difficult obstinate creatures. Even this poor specimen had been prone to emotional displays and rebellion. Now, it mostly understood what was required. Shaking, it begin to sleek the dirt of Earth air off DarkCyan008's softly textured body, blowing lightly after each sweep of its tongue to warm and fluff the clean almost invisible fluff that distinguished the higher ranks of soldiers from the ugly Grey field workers.
Of course, this thing was even uglier than a field worker and DarkCyan008 had not yet earned his white softly fleshed attendant that would groom him and with which he could practice for the time of mating. However, the human was paler than gray and DarkCyan008 could pretend that he had already evolved to the next step, almost worthy then to go to SHE, the MOTHER, the divine center of their being. Ah to evolve into a male....to thrust his seed into the beautifully swollen body of the Mother, to be worthy of succession, to experience the fatal joy of her pleasure and having been found worthy to die in lovely agony before being carried to feed the hungry young...
His seed probe stiffened and DarkCyan008 threw the trembling green eyed human to the floor to practice mating upon him. It was important to be experienced enough to find the orifice of fatal delight...there were no second chances once transmuted into a drone-male and chosen. He had chosen this specimen because it resembled the enemy, a weak and inferior thing, hardly worthy of being called an Alex clone, yet nevertheless, it wore the rebel human's face.
DarkCyan008's blue glistening probe extruded. The human crouched on the floor shook harder, but reached behind him to hold apart the fatty deposits that formed its haunches. "Say it," DarkCyan008 bade.
"Please honor me, oh brilliance of color, transcendent carrier of hive honor, glorious future mate of the Mother. I am lower than a grub, less than an incubator, please use this one, Lloyd Hillard, repulsive dung carrier that I am..."
Sliding his probe into the sheath of human flesh, DarkCyan008 begin the familiar thrusting movement, feeling the tension in his midsection, the pleasurable pull reminding him of the wondrous future immolation in the mother's egg channel. He was not yet a male although he wore the appendage of one, marking him as a future drone once he had proved himself worthy of feeding upon the royal jelly that would transform him. His probe pulsed however with clear fluid and he dizzily disengaged.
His human toy crept forward to clean him and DarkCyan008 thrummed with joy as he envisioned his glory to come...
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
"I want from you what you do best, pretty lady. I want you to kill. To begin with, there is a certain Omar Santiago that I would like to see gone from the planet. He's greedy and importunate. He's also very wealthy. He's someone that Mr. Pinocchio here would be happy to tell you about should you care to hear. Unfortunately, he's dabbling with the future of mankind. Why don't you and your...er, family... eat him and his associates. It will be an act rather like weeding a garden, don't you think?"
"Simple needs, you see, Mr. Spender," said Spike lightly. He tilted his head, and gave the old man a smile. "My pretty petal here is an honest, old-fashioned girl. Home and security, and her family about her." He stood behind Drusilla and hugged her to him, bending to kiss the cool, scented silk of her snowy shoulder. "And it sounds like you're running out of bargaining time, so we better get some things clear."
He smirked. "Can't say as I believe in an invasion of bug-eyed monsters from the planet Zarg, though, or you mistaking Dru and me for bloody Dan Dare and Digby. Still, got to do our bit for planet Earth, I suppose. Are you expecting me to go and shoot the buggers with my trusty ray-gun, or did you have a different role in mind? Because I warn you, whatever's been put in my head might not let me do it, even if they are friggin' aliens. There's my own skin to think of, too. Who knows what they could do to a poor innocent vampire?"
"It's an interesting thought, is it not? You might find that you can hurt them terribly - to death, in fact. Wouldn't that be a pleasant thought? Worth a try, don't you think?" The old man suddenly stopped smiling. "Within the next month or so there will be no red blood left, only alien green, and then who will feed you?"
Spike released Dru, and walked over to Samantha, looking speculatively from her to Spender. He teased the little girl's hair through his fingers, then suddenly wound a length of it round his hand and lifted her to dangle a couple of feet off the ground. Laughing at her struggles, he turned back to Spender.
"Before I risk my... Well now, I was going to say life, but I'm not really alive, so... Before I risk my existence facing these aliens, I'd like to see just what they can do to people like me." He tossed Samantha across the room. She slapped against the door like a jointless doll, and slumped to the floor. "Take your little Sammy here and throw her to them. I'm curious."
Spender licked his lips, but said nothing as he gauged the interaction between the vampires as a result of this action. His mind raced as he wondered how he could use it.
Pinocchio's lips curled in a snarl at the mention of the name Omar Santiago. That man put him thought hell, left him with nightmares he would never get rid of... him and that damn game of his, Harsh Realm. But the black lunged man was right, he needed to be stopped, killed in fact... but it was hard to kill something that would not die.
He then glanced at Dru. She could kill Santiago... the dead killing the man who would not die. The thought caused a smile to grace his lips but when he saw Spike toss Samantha, he was at the little girl like he was shot and nearly growled, taking the little girl into his protecting arms.
The bastard may have looked at him as nothing but dinner, someone to abuse but Dru told him to protect, take care of her and the little girl. He would walk through hell for Dru if he had to and if it meant standing up to the bastard that pawed at Dru, and then so be it.
He turned his head back to the little girl but kept his sense about him, ready to move if either Spike or the other man moved. He was ready to attack if he had to. "You all right?" He asked the little girl then threw a glance at Dru, asking in his eyes how she could let this happen to someone she called her daughter.
Drusilla had stood stock-still when Spike had used Samantha like a toy and thrown her across the room at a door, that may as well have been covered in barbed wire for all the malice the act involved. Had it not been for Pinocchio's quick reactions and her wide-eyed shock that Spike would even do such a thing, Dru would now have Samantha in her own arms.
As it happened, the soldier had been a perfect guardsman and done as duty requested. Something for which Dru was silently grateful. Eyes fixed on his and bowing head slightly in thanks.
Spike threw himself in a chair and looked thoughtfully at Spender. "Santiago - rich bloke you say? That's an inducement, for sure. Can't stand all this traditional vampire crap, myself. Living in damp vaults... no comfort. If you were to make it possible, I'd off him for you tomorrow, assuming I get to keep what's his. But, unfortunately, Mr. Spender, you'll have to persuade Dru over that one, unless you'll get this bloody chip out of my head for me?"
Dru has really done a good job on that poor bastard, thought Spike. His lips twitched with amusement at Pinocchio's reflexive urge to look after the child vampire. He leaned back, put his feet on the coffee table, and lit a cigarette of his own, puffing a couple of smoke-rings towards the ceiling as he mulled over Spender's words.
"You're really above board with this invasion business, aren't you?" he said at length. It had seemed like a load of shite when the old bugger had first suggested it. Spike had been wondering whether he was senile, but now he concentrated on him, he could see Spender was no doddering old fool. Dru's words confirmed what he said, too. It was serious, and Spike was afraid. Humans and demons he could cope with, but this was neither. He really didn't want to take an alien on without knowing its power, no matter how much potential pleasure lay in slaughtering them, but this time, he knew that the human and demon world had a common enemy.
Spike looked at Pinocchio babying Samantha, and felt sickened. Damn, he'd forgotten what a trial it was living with the spawn of Drusilla's obsession with hangers-on, and creatures to fawn over her. He enjoyed torture and torment as much as anyone, and had even occasionally indulged in a slave of his own for a while, but slaves soon disgusted him, and had to be killed.
Too fast for Pinocchio to react, he snatched Samantha from him and danced back out of reach. "For fuck's sake, you stupid cunt," he snarled at the man. "This thing is a demon, not a kid. It's ten times stronger than you, and you have to work bloody hard to hurt it." He raked his nails across the child's face; within seconds the deep, bleeding cuts had disappeared, leaving her delicate skin unblemished. "She doesn't need you for a Daddy."
Spike was treading on VERY thin ice indeed. His female sire was not going to tolerate her Samantha being hurt anymore than she would have tolerated it happening to Spike himself.
To Drusilla, all those she turned were regarded as true children - just as Spike himself. Her own friends and family in mortal years had been ripped away and murdered without thought by the one she would later learn to call 'daddy'. A merciless process, which had led to her eventual descent into what many conveniently labelled insanity.
What Spike was doing now was simply aggravating those feelings and Drusilla would not stand for that type of behaviour. Not in the least and a severe growl of warning could be heard directed at him, rumbling from deep within her throat.
He turned to Dru. He was more shaken by the idea of the aliens than he knew, and felt rashly impatient with her whims. "If you want me to stick with you, Dru, there'll be no more pets until we've got a place to keep them, and I don't have to look at their fucking puling faces all the time, understood? In fact, you've got one too many already, in my opinion. I can do without the ankle-biter here." He dumped Samantha on the floor, and walked up to Pinocchio, his face transforming into its demon mask. "This one is more use." He ran his hand over the pulse in the man's throat, and licked his lips. "Hungry... " he said dreamily. Pinocchio smelt so good, of sweat and blood and fear. He had a fleeting vision of this rough squaddie on his knees, giving him a blowjob, knowing Spike was going to kill him as soon as he was done. Instantly he pushed it aside. Wouldn't do to have that image popping into his sweetheart's nosy brain.
"Samantha is NOT a pet." With the girl gathered in her arms as Spike began getting a little too big for his boots, Drusilla's words were spoken clearly in distinct tones. Her eyes were narrowed at the man she had once turned to be lover in the London of 1880, while Angelus and Darla had been too wrapped up in one another to give her much in the way of the familial love or attention, which any daughter would wish for. Samantha herself no doubt included. "And you're not being a very nice brother."
Pulling his attention back to the discussion, he turned to Dru. "If you want to keep the kid, make me another vampire we can use as bait for these little green men to kill, just so's we can see what we're dealing with. I'm not daft enough to walk into the lion's den with my eyes shut, Spender," he added.
"No."
Her answer was unquestionable and succinct. For while Spike may well think in terms of mere fodder for dusting, it seemed their parting had been long enough to forget that she regarded the creation of childer as something special and not to be taken lightly.
Family.
A concept deeply rooted within Dru's psyche that would never leave.
She shook her head in firm denial of what he was asking for. "I'm not makin' me any boys an' girls jus' to go marchin' off to battle," said the motherly vampiress with a pout and kiss stop her precious Samantha's head. Rising from her hug with daughter in somewhat of a hurt expression. "Ain't decent..."
He crushed Dru into his arms, and took her scarlet lips in a slow, sensual kiss. Pinocchio's scent had aroused him a little, and the slide of Dru's thighs over his prick was delicious, making him fully hard and wild to feel her body beneath him. "We've got to help with this, little love," he said. "These aliens could mean the end of everything, the end of my precious Drusilla. You've got to stop playing your games for a little while; with your power this will all be over in a flash and then, when I'm back to my old self, I can put my princess in the fairy castle she deserves."
While she had power over him as his maker, Drusilla felt herself calm under his romantic efforts, as was so often the case between them. A flame most literally embraced by the passionate furnace of death itself. But just a kiss? Could a simple matter of that alone be enough to repair the damage he had caused over his own sister in blood? Not likely but it was a definite start.
"Did I ever tell you what my Angel did t'me? Did I, my love? Back when my heart still beat?" The look on her face was that of an ever-present lost gaze again as she cupped his face in hand and rested in his arms. She couldn't remember if she had before. If she had ever been told in their eternal love of 118 years together. Drusilla forgot a lot of things and...
Others she remembered with a frightening clarity.
"One by one... All made to flutter off like butterflies. Everyone I knew, all made bloody..." she explained with saddened eyes focused in his and his alone. "I ran away to God after mummy-" The words caught in her throat. As vicious and sadistic as she could be, those memories never failed to haunt the vampiress Drusilla and it was an added power of conditioning that her own sire had always held sway over her. "Everything I love's always taken away from me, my William. Don't make me lose anymore." Hands slid around lover's neck to join in a clasp behind and the Princess leant forwards to kiss lips softly. "Please?"
Though Tin Man was not deliberately listening to the conversation between the vampires and the Smoker, certain keywords were set to alert him. One such was 'android'. A few seconds after Spender had mentioned the word Tin Man come out of his reverie, and reviewed the snatch of speech which contained the vital word. What was being said seemed to justify reviewing the whole file.
He was amazed at its content. Vampires? Either he had stumbled upon a group of mad humans... though in Tin Man's opinion no human was as sane as a Mac27... or the fabled monsters really existed. Shuddering with distaste at the mish-mash of superstition and folklore that passed for religions amongst humans, Tin Man debated what to do. An alien invasion was being discussed, and involvement by Mac27's. This was too weighty a matter for him, and would have to be passed to a higher authority.
He usually kept the gain on his internal communicator turned really low. The channels tended to buzz with gossip and puerile jokes circulating amongst the Mac27 community, and Tin Man was of a higher order, preferring silence to enable him to concentrate on the infinite. He activated it, and searched for One's signal, and, without further ado, downloaded the file and continued to broadcast the on-going conversation.
Spike could feel her melancholy as clearly as if it were his own, and, stroking her hair gently, felt ashamed of the way he was treating her. He knew her past, and he knew Angelus all too well. Perspective, he thought. That's what it is. Get away from her for a while, and now I see her differently. He hooked his arms around her, and lifted her from her feet to settle back in his chair with her on his lap. Kissing, and whispering reassurance, he puzzled about what was happening between them.
Before, when she got like this, all I'd want to do is indulge her. Keep her happy; keep her out of my sodding hair. Let her have her fancies, play with her stupid dolls, and feel sorry for her. Now, daft as it seems, I'm feeling guilty that I haven't tried harder to help her. Where I used to be happy she depended on me, now I think I'd be happier if she was cured, yet still wanted me to look out for her. Fuck, you'd think once a bloke was dead, he'd stop thinking with his prick.
"Dru, my darling, I don't want to make it bad for you, but it sounds like we're going to be caught up in a war. We could both lose everything. We could lose each other - forever. Don't think we can stand back and watch the buggers slaughter each other, and just enjoy the show this time. If you want me to be a big brother to Samantha, then I'll tell you what a proper big brother would do now. He'd send his little sister away somewhere safe until this is all over, and if you want to be a good mummy to her, that's what you'd do, too."
It was strange. Alien in a very real way. Spike was talking about sacrifice - change. Change wasn't something that Dru tended to cope with very well. In some ways she did; like going on holiday to far away and distant places. Always having new toys to play with, new games to play and new people to eat. But the deep things, the special things... Like Family. She didn't like it when they changed at all.
"Why?"
It was a simple enough question and on his lap, in his arms, she felt safe. Protected from those winds of change even as he suggested them. Samantha though; why change that? Her little girl? Didn't want to do that. Couldn't. Wouldn't. "I don't wanna' send 'er away. S'not right. Not what I promised at all."
"We don't know what we're up against, so it's no use you trying to tell me that we can mince the aliens like we can humans, or protect her from them. Who knows? They could vaporize us by just lifting a finger... which is why I'm keen to find a sacrificial lamb," he added, half under his breath. "If you like, we'll turn our backs on all this, and go away together until it's all over. You decide. But whatever you choose, get Samantha out of it. I don't care if you blow your top, sweetness, but you have to know I'm not prepared to put you or I in danger to protect her. The puppy will bare his little teeth for her, and be a good guard dog, but he's no superman, you know that."
He sighed. Not much use reasoning with the summer breeze, and that's what princess's mind was like.
Drusilla looked down with one arm hung loosely yet needfully around his neck. Doubt was filling her about a great many things now and paths, as always, needed to converge or be none. She simply didn't know what to do but would not throw Samantha needlessly away. In fact throw her away in any regard. It just wasn't done.
"But..." She said looking up. "The smokey man knows. Knows what they can do." A new kind of hope shone in her blue eyes and vampiress glanced up to the living man named Spender. "You tell us," she demanded of him. Shifting herself to lean in closer to her bleached blond lover in a sure sign of unity and instinctive urge. "You tell us or I'll 'ave your guts for garters! What can they do, them little grey men with the oil inside? To us? Our kind? What could they do?"
"My dear, I don't believe that their weapons will harm you any more than ours. I believe that you would survive the invasion perfectly well. Ah, but then what would you do? Their blood is green and corrosive. Would you drink it? You'd certainly grow hungry, and there will be no blood left on the planet if they win. Poor vampires." He shook his head in pity. "Condemned to roam the earth for an eternity without sustenance."
He nodded to himself and then raised one brow in faint inquiry. "Is there a measurable length of time that a vampire may live without food? Or would he be condemned to starve forever?"
Pinocchio watched and listened. Though he did not mind that Spike touched him the way he did, smelling him and probably thinking other thoughts, he just didn't like the thought of being tossed aside. He could only guess at what Spike's thoughts were. He had seen that look in Harsh Realm too many times. The one of hunger, of greed, of want for a thrill. He got the sense the guy wouldn't mind him dropping to his knees and blowing him.
But Pinocchio would not do it if Spike treated Dru the way he was. He didn't like the way he spoke to her, seeming to tell her what to do, plus trying to push him away from her. He was not going to leave her side. Though she saw him as a pet, a plaything, she also told him to protect her family... that included Samantha as well as herself. He would do that.
And he didn't like the fact the man under estimated his skill. Sure he wasn't fucking tough like Spike was, a vampire... but he had other tricks up his sleeves. He knew other techniques and besides, the fucker could only move at dark while he... he could move in the day and so could the fucking aliens.
Pinocchio looked at Spike, finally getting enough nerve to speak, "Listen shit for brains," He said stepping away from Samantha, "When you turned into a vampire... did your brains die to?" He snarled though he knew Dru would not like his words, he had to say them, "Your best bet for survival is in numbers. You send the little one away... you lose the concentration of Dru here, who can do all the killing since you can't. You try and fucking hurt someone, like snuff a cancer stick out on me... how much pain do you feel?"
He shifted his weight still blue eyes flashing, "And what do you think these aliens do... only come out at night? You better open your eyes. Your sorry ass needs us all. So maybe it be best you keep Princess happy for a while." He then turned to Spender, "As for you, you better start talking on what you know about these aliens. I ain't in the mood to play games and if you want to beat cancer, start talking. Cause you may control Spiky boy, but you don't control me." he glared.
Spender smirked at Pinocchio, and then returned his attention to the two that were sitting together in the chair.
"Mr. Pinocchio has a point about the hours of darkness too. You might do well to take that into consideration."
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It was early morning at Skip Brule's compound. The sky had a glow in it that within half an hour or so would become a coppery, gleaming dawn, but which for now was merely a suggestion of the day. Stars were on their way to bed, and the guards on the gate dozed over their sub machine guns, daydreaming of violent crime and warm beds with warmer partners.
Nothing stirred. Nothing out of place, and yet there was a sound.
A hissing, crackling sound impinged on the senses, right there at the boundaries of perception. Within the compound, Cory Raines sat up and frowned before lying back down again, and Methos stirred restlessly as it gained -not volume - pressure.
Something was coming. Something glowed bright as magnesium against the black velvet backdrop of the night.
A hiss and a pop, as though somewhere pressure had changed - adjusted itself - and a man stood, confused and frowning in the space before the door.
Jacob Hardy seemed to shake himself. He was here, wherever here was.
Adjusting the black beret he wore to cover more completely the unfortunate wound in his head, he turned to the door, and opening it, he entered Skip's establishment.
The corridors were wide and well lit, and he could see people moving with purpose along them. He started to go to the closest to ask where he was, but as he drew nearer, he began to notice that all the people he could see wore his face.
This was some kind of cosmic nightmare. He put out a hand to stop a passer by.
"Who are you? Where am I? Why does everyone look like me?" Shivering, he raised a hand to his head once more. "Help me," he whispered. "I need to find Kara."
Ryan Simms looked at the newcomer and had to smile at his first thought -- The relative novelty of this one looking for a woman. He'd come pretty far on the open-mindedness regarding sex partners in just a short while. The inevitable thoughts of Luke that came with that sentiment were bittersweet. Luke was making himself useful while Ryan was pacing the corridors.
"My name's Ryan. This temple complex is a sanctuary for people who look ...well, who look like us. As to why, some of them are androids that were created using a prototype that does. Others are clones of the same guy. I know that sounds ... science fiction-esq., but that's my understanding of it."
Ryan decided to leave out the part about aliens and who knew whom else trying to kill them for now. This poor guy had enough to adjust to at the moment. "I don't know any Kara, but I'll try and help you."
"Let's start with the basics, ok?" Ryan smiled, he hoped reassuringly. "What's your name?"
"My name's Jacob Hardy. I was... We were at an art exhibit in New York. I don't know..." He put his hand up to his forehead. "It's a blur, and I'm afraid. There were people who wanted to kill me. Where's Kara, my fianc?"
His head looks like it hurts, Ryan thought. And so much for sparing him some of the nastier specifics of the situation. With a small sigh, Ryan said, "I don't know where your lady is, Jacob, but it's probably best that she's not with you right now. Because you're right to be afraid. There are people who are trying to kill us. All of us. Not just you."
Jacob shivered. He was dressed in a thick jacket and heavy denims, but he still appeared cold, and huddled in on himself, apparently miserable. His hand strayed to the beret that he wore, touching it and then moving away as if nervous.
He looks cold, too. Maybe he's got the flu or something worse.
"Ryan, I'm completely lost here. Where the hell is here, anyway?"
"Generally, here is a suburb of Washington, D.C. If you can't remember how you got here from New York, maybe you've suffered a traumatic injury of some sort. I can't help but notice you reaching for your head. Are you okay, Jacob? Should we go to the infirmary and have your head ... ah ..."
The word "examined" fit, but Ryan didn't like the connotation and Jacob was spooked enough. "Looked at?"
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