The Game 48
Edited by Karen Leigh
A few men and androids had gathered in the weapons room. Alexei had shared his basic training programme with at least two of the androids present and the information was still being transferred from unit to unit elsewhere. Baines entered last and looked around. He walked to one end of the room and those present stood to face him. The session was being filmed for subsequent groups to watch in case he was unavailable for the group for some time and also many who had expressed interest in receiving training were not present. "Welcome. I want to start this session off with a few points. Alexei has given the Mac's a copy of his basic training manual. We are going to work on a buddy system. Each of the Mac's is to take a clone under his wing and teach him military rules and regulations.'
"Physical activity will be undertaken as a group. These activities in boot camp serve several purposes. To raise your level of physical fitness, to teach you cooperation, teamwork, and to be aware of your companions at all times."
"No matter what branch of service one enters, initial training cycles all have common core components. One basic tenet is drill, drill and more drill. Drill until you can do most of the tasks assigned by officers in your sleep. Till obeying orders is second nature. Till your weapons are familiar and comfortable friends."
"It is not easy to shed the idea that human life is sacred. All the training in the world does not really prepare you for the moment when you must accept the fact that you must kill."
"Killing when it is necessary should bring no joy, no fear, no pride and no guilt. It is a skill to be learned and honed. Your survival and the survival of your unit depend on your ability to learn to kill and accept its necessity."
"You will be taught how to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat. We will discover where your weaknesses lie and what areas you need to work hardest at."
"You will learn the various types of weapons, how to dismantle and reassemble them. How to care for them. How they feel. Types of target practice. You will each choose a weapon for your personal use. Care for it, work it, know where it is at all times and practice, practice, practice. Till your muscles can draw and fire almost before your mind acknowledges the need."
"You will become familiar with terrain and how to move over it. Training films will be made available. Support each other in learning. If you master a skill, teach it to another."
"When Assistant Director Skinner is well enough I will ask him to speak with you on war and soldiers. Not everyone's experience of war is the same. Fields of combat differ. Methods of warfare change with every year that passes, with new weapons and new enemies."
"We will begin with defense. During your training, I will be calling in individuals with different training and experiences to demonstrate their skills. Some of you may prefer to learn other techniques in addition to the basics that the military have to offer. We all must focus and train as hard and as fast as we can."
"Our enemies are ruthless. Even if we know nothing else about them; we do know that is a fact. None of us has been here long. Information is slowly coming in on what we are facing. The situation changes quickly and some of us must act quicker than others. A lot of the information is difficult to believe. Aliens, virtual worlds, and hidden governments within governments. It was only weeks ago that we learned about being clones, learned about the Mac 27 project, the cyber projects, the werewolf project. A lot of this information is indigestible and so we will break it down and delegate parts of it to be dealt with as we can. Wars can rise quickly and end quickly or they can go on for years and years. Work at your own pace to acquire the skills you need to survive whatever we may face."
"In this war we are preparing for, we have no particular enemy to hate. So it is your brains not your emotions that will drive you to prepare and to fight. There is no nobility in fighting a war. You kill or maim your opponent in the quickest and most effective way you can with the least danger to yourself; because he will do the same to you. There is no honor to your enemy, he will trick you and cheat you and if you do not beat him at his own game you will not live to appreciate your own nobility."
"One last point, the military has officers to instill discipline. Here you will be required to discipline yourselves. The opportunity to learn is being offered; it is up to each of you to take what advantage of it you can. I will be away from the compound for some period of time so I am delegating responsibility for beginning training to this first group."
At this point, Leigh had each of the men and androids come up and introduce themselves on camera. When the filming was complete he thanked each of them individually. He and Alexei gathered together as many weapons as they could carry including several of the Mac 27 disruptors and headed for the infirmary once again. Alexei contacted Skip's mobile armory and arranged for the lone helicopter to be warmed up and ready for take off.
Finding Michael and Roy sitting forlornly he handed over the assorted weapons and sent them ahead with Alexei to the helicopter. He spoke with Rodney and Eugene quietly and like the others before him decided that having the chip disabled would have to do for the time being. Baines met his three cohorts by the helicopter and spent the next half hour suiting them up and giving instructions. Roy was understandably nervous as he was less familiar with weapons than the others. Alexei and Baines were the only ones with the disruptors for use on Wraith and any Mac 27 controlled by Innobotics technology.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Hobbes was outside the fence of the Innobotics building where Wraith was... so he could only guess. He was relying on memory that was shaky at best. Moving as he had been trained and done so many times in Harsh Realm. He gained access to the building. Moving down corridors acting sometimes like he belonged there. No one else seemed to pay him any mind. He stopped in a hallway however, seeing a group of men and frowned. He moved into hiding and listened, wondering what was going on.
Hobbes started to turn to make his move when he was hit. By the Mac 27 that Wraith had called up. The unit looked down at Hobbes and blinked. Silently it moved on, leaving the young man there.
Hobbes moaned softly, trying to regain consciousness. Vision blurred, he rolled over on the cold floor. What hit him? He started crawling down the hall. He had to get to Wraith, had to speak to him. Darkness kept threatening to take over. He rolled into another part of the lab through a door he managed to pull himself through. He pushed himself up against a wall, drew his gun as he tried to regain something of himself to focus on.
"It appears trouble has already begun." Phoenix stepped away from Marita and looked at the newcomer. Perhaps he shouldn't have unlocked the back way out of this room, but Phoenix had wanted a quick exit available to him when he discovered what was occurring in the main lab.
"You called me? I found someone in the hall. I knocked him out. Is he a danger?" the unit asked.
Wraith frowned at the door. If the threat was knocked out it could wait long enough for his first priority to be tended to. "Stand." The computer had told this unit that Wraith and Marita were to be obeyed. It complied instantly.
The cable was already in his port. Wraith plugged into the unit with a few brisk movements. The Mac 27 jolted slightly in reaction to the immediate invasion. In a matter of moments it's programming was shredded and rebuilt the way Wraith wanted it configured. Various chips were flashed with power, either shutting them down or kicking them up to maximum capacity. The unit's primary function was Marita's safety. It would have to be smashed into pieces before it would allow her to come to harm.
Wraith snatched both ends of the cable out. "Activate. Marita is through that doorway." A gun was offered and accepted without a blink of reaction from the unit. It swung around to go to its charge.
Once inside the inner lab Marita's bodyguard sparked into action. It all but flew across the room and toppled the already unsteady Hobbes to the floor. Hobbes was disarmed, flattened and sat on. The unit's gun pressed to the man's forehead.
"Shall I terminate this one, Wraith?"
"Not yet." This was a frustrating development. There was no reason for Lieutenant Hobbes to be here. The soldier had made it perfectly clear that he recalled nothing of Wraith or the mission they had been assigned. Hobbes had betrayed Wraith, turned to Krycek.
Just thinking of Krycek put a snarl onto Wraith's lips. He paced across to tower over the man who was supposed to have been *his* partner. "What do you want here? Are you alone?" The demands snapped out.
Hobbes turned his blue eyes up to the man towering over him, and then he scanned the room. His eyes came back to Wraith, staring into green eyes that flashed the same way Pinocchio's blues did at times. Damn he looked wild, ready to kill at a moments notice. Hobbes shifted a bit and was stopped by the unit on top of him with a push of the muzzle to his skin.
"I... I came to talk to you." Tom finally voiced. "I need... we need your help." Where did that 'I' came from... he had no idea? But in a way he did. He still remembered the look on Wraith's face back at the other compound when he said he did not know him. It was a look of devastation, betrayal... Hobbes never forgot that look. He'd hurt the man somehow and he wanted to know how.
But he needed the man's help as well... if he would help. Alex had been dragging his feet... Hobbes couldn't wait; he wanted to get the man on the right side, the side of good. And since Wraith mentioned before that they worked together... though he didn't remember... he must have trusted the man.
"Can we talk in private... I didn't come to hurt you, just... talk," Hobbes insisted, pleading with his eyes, "Just you and me... no one else. You can search me... take all my weapons, keep one on me if you want... I promise... I won't do anything... just talk." He somewhat held his breath... hoping, praying... the man would listen to him, "Please," he added softly.
Phoenix broke the tableaux. The youngster padded over and crouched down by Hobbes, studying the other as if he were fascinating. "Hobbes, Lieutenant Thomas." Phoenix lifted his face to gaze at Wraith. "I saw this one's file on Dr. Sawyer's desk and read it. It was fascinating. Lieutenant Hobbes is not supposed to exist." Phoenix shook his head. "Doctor Sawyer was worried about his and Ms. Covarrubias' influence on you, Wraith. I suppose that's proven justified." He stood slowly. An expression of surprise marked his young face. "I'm just as tall as you are! I mean, I knew I was, but... I can hook you up to the equipment. I can fix you, Wraith. It would be a good idea. Management is not going to be happy with what you're doing."
"Be quiet, child." Wraith's hand lifted to shove the interloper violently away but partway through the action it turned into a far gentler, but still insistent push. "Unit." The Mac 27 was addressed. "Marita expressed hunger. Escort her to the senior staff's dining area. Take this boy too," Wraith ordered. "Use the human guards in the hallway as you see fit. Open doors only as required and re-lock each security gate behind you. Marita is chairman of Innobotics now. The order has been given and is now filtering through the company. She is to be treated as such."
The Mac nodded then shifted his attention to Marita. "As the lady wills it."
Hobbes was relieved to get the heavy unit off his body. He sighed softly and sat up, very slowly, making no threatening moves. He watched silently as the unit and the other two were leaving. Blue eyes followed and scanned the room only to come to rest on the one remaining person in the room with him.
He locked eyes with Wraith, staring into greens that matched Alex's almost perfectly. But there was something different about these eyes... something he couldn't pinpoint. "Wraith," He started slowly, "Do you know what is going on out there? What is happening right now? To everyone? An invasion is happening... I would like your help in stopping it."
"The invasion isn't scheduled yet." Wraith frowned, internally sifting through the information he had on the purpose the Mac 27s were originally built to deal with. "It's not supposed to happen yet." Still, that would explain the emergency call back to Dr. Sawyer's lab. It would also explain the halting of his mission to disable the Macs... if they were now needed and there wasn't time to build proper replacements.
"Schedule be damned! It's already started."
Hobbes seemed so sincere, but then again the Lieutenant could likely lie through his teeth and still look like a choir boy. Inga Fossa had chosen carefully with her weapon, picking a soldier that someone might mistake for a naive angel if they hadn't seen the man in action.
Marita had led Phoenix to one side. "What Dr. Sawyer and the others were doing here, to you and the others, was wrong. They were holding you here..."
She looked over at Wraith briefly, calling to him, "Please, find out whatever you can about 'Phoenix.'"
Turning back to the young man, she said, "but that's okay now. I've come to liberate you... see, I have more authority than Dr. Sawyer. If you know anything about me, you must have known that."
Calling over her shoulder that they were going to grab lunch, Marita led Phoenix through the halls to the lavish cafeteria. As they walked, she explained about the Mac 27 and clone projects, her involvement, and why and how she had been so misguided.
"Power corrupts," she said. "But absolute power corrupts absolutely."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Mulder grabbed Alex, demanding to know what was going on. His answer was a crude Russian epithet, and Alex shoved the cell-phone into his hand with a snarl.
Tin Man repeated his information to Mulder. There was a silence. The Smoker was dead. It was unbelievable. He had had links with Santiago, too. That was not quite so incredible, given the prevalence of chips amongst himself and his companions. Mulder looked around for Hobbes; Santiago, Harsh Realm, was his baby, and Mulder wanted to get him on the case, but he was no-where to be seen.
Mulder knew that the Smoker's fate would have to take second place. The Mac 27s were the first line of defense against the aliens, and, judging by the throbbing buzz in his head, they were approaching, and growing in numbers. It was imperative, as Alex had said, that the Mac 27's should not be compromised. They needed to get to Innobotics and soon. The chips and their effects would have to wait.
"What do you want to do about Spender?" Mulder asked.
"Fuck. Nothing. I've been saying we need to get to Innobiotics, I need to see what's going on, and does anybody listen? Where's Hobbes? Send him, and a few of these guys. This whole joint is full of clones and androids with nothing better to do than make beautiful music together," he snarled.
Mulder raised a brow at that, but managed tact, for a change.
"Hobbes is missing." He turned to Scully. "Can you get hold of Skinner, and take care of this? Spender's been killed. Seems he had links with another group; Santiago, and his gang... and now a load of demons... or vampires, would you believe?" He grinned. "That's your forte, Scully, grab a priest and do the bell, book and candle thing, would you? David has the location, and you'll probably need some back-up, apart from Skinner." He tossed the phone to Scully, and headed for the door, smirking as he imagined Scully and Skinner meeting the Addams family, or maybe Boris Karloff. He was sure Tin Man was mistaken. The android had seemed seriously delusional.
"What are you waiting for, Alex?"
He dashed out of the door, with Alex in tow, in search of the exit.
Outside, Gross was standing beside a truck, looking impatient. At the sight of the two men, he jumped to attention, and gestured towards his vehicle.
"I am ready for action, comrades. Weapons, equipment... Gross is always prepared." In an undertone, he continued, "Others have already left, by ones, and twos. The man known as Hobbes, for instance. Other Mac 27s. I am hoping Langly will join us." He struck a noble pose, but refrained for pouring out his feelings for the man. This was neither the time, nor the place.
"I have room for others. Do you wish to wait, or assemble a party? We could wait for Langly, for instance." He sounded wistful. Krycek curled his lip, and jumped into the passenger seat of the truck, rolled down the window, and steadied his gun unobtrusively on the sill.
"Get moving," he growled. "And get the fuck in, too, Mulder, if you want to be part of this."
Mulder scrambled in beside Alex, with Gross in the driver's seat, and the Mac27 started the engine.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Seeing the truck with Krycek, Mulder, and a vaguely familiar android starting up, Jess flagged them down. "Hey! Going to Innobotics? Got room in the back for two more?"
Gross stamped on the brakes, throwing his companions against the dash. As one, they glared at Gross.
"Maybe I should drive." Alex opened his door, and jumped out.
*Don't let him, Spooky.* Fox wriggled inside Mulder's head, *I want to snuggle,* and Mulder, tired and with a sensation like a dentist's drill cutting through his thoughts, sighed, and replied, *Take it, Fox. I can't think... can't concentrate. You run us, give me some space to work out how I can cut off, or damp the affect the aliens are having on me. Maybe a drug of some sort? Can't you feel it?*
*No, not a thing.*
*Interesting, and fortunate,* Mulder muttered, almost falling as he followed Alex out of the truck. *Damn, take it Fox. I'm gonna faint.*
Fox jumped in as Mulder faded, and braced their body against the side of the truck, gulping in air until he felt Mulder calm himself once more. *Okay?* he asked.
*I'll be fine. Let's travel in the back, huh? I'll be better in the open.*
*Alex too?*
*Go for it, babe,* Mulder replied, with a weak chuckle. *That should make me feel better.*
Fox turned to Jess and Sasha, and gave a little bow. "Great to have you on board. Please, take the seats. Alex and I will be fine in the back. Can I recommend," he added in an undertone, "that you use the seatbelts."
Without a further word, Jess and Sasha climbed into the cab. Jess's head tilted a bit as she looked at the Mac driving. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
Ignoring Alex's crude comments about Gross's driving, he dragged his lover up into the flat bed truck and rolled over on top of him amongst the canvas bags and sacks, presumably full of weapons, that Gross had accumulated. The vehicle jolted into motion, and Fox felt his cock harden against Alex's thigh as they bounced straight across Skip's lawn towards the exit. He smirked, and leaned in to let his tongue rasp over the stubble on Alex's face. How the hell does Spooky managed to concentrate in Alex's presence? he asked himself. Fuck, he looked good. Rough, angry, and sexy as hell.
One by one, he started to pop open the buttons on Alex's shirt, following the trail with kisses and nips, breath bated, wondering if Alex would stand for his presumption.
Ignoring the fact that Mulder - no, it was Fox, that grin was definitely Fox - was rapidly stripping him, Alex lay, permitting him to do as he wished. He was tired - so tired, but there was little chance now of any rest. As Fox licked a swathe along his throat, Alex groaned, and put his arms around Fox. Take it while you can get it. We're all going to hell, he thought.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
The faint steady message from his kind assured One he was going in the right direction. As for creating a distraction, that seemed the operant word.
Wisps of Sypher and David's concern thrilled through One, but now he was committed to this course of action. The corridor ran deeper underground. The air seemed dank, although it was still climate controlled. He could sense a pulse of Mac 27s ahead. Not enough to be all of the missing brothers, but more than a few.
A door opened ahead and One hid, the diminished party following his lead. Mac 27s emerged. They were naked and filthy, smeared with what appeared to be oil and possibly blood. There were five of them and they were holding on come-alongs squealing fierce creatures. One thought they were almost reptilian. He could see jagged teeth, gray skin, and heavy sharp claws. They fought their caretakers constantly, seeming agitated by something in the air. The things were about the size of a German shepherd dog, but packed menace in every ounce of their bodies.
A Mac 27 remarked to its fellow, "The masters said that we are to let them hunt humans who do not have the signal band, but not to let them eat them."
Thoughtfully, the android added, "It will be very hard to stop them. They seem very hungry."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Despite his attempt to shut off the links to Sypher and David, One kept hearing their messages. Be careful. We love you from Sypher. Something more tentative from David...but hope. He wanted to believe it would work, but for right now, he had work to do.
David might think it was self-destructive, but One had not been able to bear the thought of David in danger. He was tired of his people dying while he sat safe and, when he realized he could stop that drain on David's power; he had to wake David as a server.
Now, One whispered to Ricky and Dennis, "You check the left side of the building. I'm going to the concentration of Mac 27s. I want to get as many out, activated, and protected by the new program as I can."
There was newfound confidence in Ricky's movements. Taking care of someone was good for the kid, One thought. Followed by his duckling guards, One checked the alarm on a window. He had equipped himself with electronic alarm chasers...Skip did have the most interesting and up-to-date toys!
It took a few moments to disable the alarm. There were three levels of back up and they had to be disrupted in order or alarms would cascade throughout the building.
"I will go," Unit number 68 insisted in a whisper, and Unit 67 put an arm in front of One to allow his partner to proceed.
One of the former farm droids insisted on going first. Damn David! This was hardly the point of taking his own risks if these zealous Mac 27 guards were going to anticipate every move and front for him.
Unit 67 sensed One's frustration, but he had been given files about the history and mission of the United States Secret Service and its companion agencies in other countries. He understood that the object of protection did not always appreciate the efforts of those who provided it.
Just as they slipped through the window, a team of guards entered the room. They didn't seem to be rushing in response to the alarm. They were looking for something, someone...
The only thing to do was to...
Moving with inhuman speed, One and the other Mac 27s attacked. At first, One tried to disable the humans, but there were so many. He heard a crunching sound and knew he had broken a neck into crumbled pieces.
Using the newly installed military programming, hand-to-hand sub-modules, Units 67 and 68 endeavored to keep the humans from One. By virtue of sheer numbers, some got through. Doggedly, the two fought to defend their charge.
A series of shots rang out and when the room quieted, One saw...Mac Brown, green eyes glazing as smoke sizzled over hot exposed circuitry...
"Tell Allison...she gave me joy," Mac Brown said before his systems shut down.
One cursed. He wasn't sure if this tragic and ill-fated Mac 27 could be salvaged. He reached down and carefully shut the eyelids over the staring green eyes. That was all he could do for now. He kissed the forehead and brushed back the silken hair.
Units 67 and 68 waited at a distance for One to pay his respects to their fallen brother. Unit 68 was leaking fluid, but he was already rerouting some internal connections to reduce the flow.
"You are damaged," Unit 67 noted, a hint of fear in his voice.
"I will be functioning at full capacity again very soon," Unit 68 assured his brother. "We will protect One as we were ordered."
The grim Mac 27s moved out cautiously, seeking their brothers. One looked back. He had lifted Mac Brown to a table, leaving his brother lying in state. He would avenge him.
Units 67 and 68 fell into step, flanking One. When he noticed the Mac 27 leader noticing his injury, Unit 68 held his head high and met One's gaze. "We will carry out our mission."
"And see that you carry out yours," Unit 67 added.
Unit 68 was impressed with his partner's action, as he perceived that 67's words had forestalled a protest by One to his own statement.
Just then Allison ran into the room. Seeing Mac Brown, she looked at the others. Crying out, "Mac!" she ran to him, hugging his still form, kissing him on his face, his neck, everywhere. "Oh, Mac... Mac.," She began to cry, heavy sobs, as she climbed up to lay beside him. "I told you I'd protect you... I failed... I always fail. Everyone I love, everyone I care about always dies... oh, Mac!"
A Mac 27 came in and looked at her. "Come, Allison, we've got to..."
Allison looked up at him through her tears. "No. I won't leave him. Without Mac... I have nothing. I really... I love him." She buried her head against his neck, hugging him as if she could bring him back by force of will and love alone.
He was dreaming. He's never dreamed before. In his dream, instead of having his fetal brain decanted from a limb-less vestigial body to a Mac 27 shell, he was a human infant. Someone held him and rocked him, sang to him. When he was hungry, he was fed. Smiling faces cooed at him and stroked his silken warm baby stomach. His world was brief discomfort followed by swift satiation and drowsy contentment.
Intermingled with this pleasant dream, Mac Brown could hear Allison. He wished he could tell her that he was still alive inside his unmoving shell. Well, when he finished growing up, maybe he would be completely human...no longer her frog prince.
Allison lay beside Mac Brown, holding him, rocking him, whispering words of love. She couldn't believe he could really be dead...
She began to cry out at the injustice of it all. "It's not fair... It's not fair."
She wrapped her arms around him, placing her body as close to his as she possibly could, kissing him, stroking his hair...
"Mac, Mac..."
She thought she felt something stir. Could it be??
Pulling back for a moment to look at him, she placed a hand on his heart. Would it be...
She thought she felt a life force. Faint, yes, but it was there!
"Mac," she said excitedly. "Mac, can you hear me?"
She smiled and wrapped him in her arms again, tears of joy and hope falling onto his skin. "Mac... please be alive... please..."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Over the noise of the lifting helicopter, Alexei yelled into Baines' ear. "One's group is in trouble. Mac Brown has been disabled.
Baines reached for contact with Jess.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Ignoring the humans making out in the bed of the truck, she turned to Sasha. "What can you tell me about Innobotics' layout? One seemed to think the other units were deep underground."
Pulling out a piece of paper and a pen from his uniform, Sasha started drawing a map for Jess's benefit. "The compound will most likely be guarded. But since One has started his offence, most of the guards attention will be directed inwards, not outwards."
Jess nodded. "So do we need to get inside Innobotics to get under it?"
"No." Sasha made an X on paper outside of the diagram of the compound. "It would be wisest to enter the sewer system here, 200 yards away from the outer fence. We can work our way underneath Innobotics and start our search here without even stepping inside the buildings."
"I have a full and recent knowledge of the local sewers," announced Gross, proudly. "I can find my way."
"Then that's our way in." She tapped the X thoughtfully. Sasha froze, and Jess recognized it from when Johnny would receive data from other units. "What is it? What information is coming through?"
Sasha took a further moment to process the data. "One has already been discovered. There has been a casualty."
"One?"
"He is functional. It is Mac Brown who is offline."
"The compound is under attack?" Gross was aghast. "We should return, and take arms against the invaders. I did not know..." Gross's communication with other Mac 27's was still patchy, despite his re-programming. "My owner did extensive modifications to my operating systems. The ability to mesh properly with other Mac 27's has been corrupted beyond repair."
Sasha shook his head sympathetically. To be isolated from the mental web like that was incomprehensible to him. "One has led a strike force to Innobotics to provide a diversion while we search. He has been discovered already."
Jess raised a hand to her head, wiping away the tears starting to spring from her eyes. She felt for the poor Mac 27 who had been through so much, having been there herself. /Enough time for crying later/ she thought, /if there was a later./ "Okay, here's what we do. We go in, find this Pendrell, convince him to help us, and bring him and the other Macs out. But if we come across whoever took Mac Brown offline, his ass is mine, understood?" Sasha nodded, and she turned to the driver. "How about you? You with us, or with them?" she said, gesturing to the bed of the truck.
"I do not comprehend," replied Gross. "Surely we are all on the same side, that of right, and honesty, and the one that's going to win, because the good side always does." Gross was naive, sincere, but, educated on a diet of hero action flicks, sadly out of touch with reality. "They are on our side, too, aren't they? Agent Mulder is a law officer, and Mr. Krycek is his friend. They are on the correct side, the good side."
"I meant are you coming below with us," Jess gestured to her and Sasha, " to search for Pendrell, or are you going with them into Innobotics?"
I will go with whoever will find me most helpful. I cannot feel emotions from the other Mac 27s, but I have reliable basic communication with the others, and access too much useful information, and much which some think useless, but could now prove otherwise.
"When my owner encouraged me to emulate adventurers like Alan Quartermain, and Indiana Jones, I think neither of us expected to find me in a situation where I could follow in their footsteps. But events have conspired to put me in the line of fire. I could not be more proud." He puffed out his chest, and settled his battered hat more firmly on his head.
"For instance, if, in the sewers, you should encounter an alligator, I am fully qualified to wrestle with it. Alternatively, if I go with Agent Mulder, to the factory, and he needs a remote controlled robot bomb constructed out of the contents of the janitor's closet, I'm your Mac!" He looked over at his companions, and added sincerely, with a tear in his eye, "You can always rely on me to do my humble best."
He looked at Jess, frowned in recognition, and then almost leapt out of his seat. "But... you... " he stuttered, the truck weaving as he tried to tug his revolver from its holster, "Last time we met, you morphed from some sort of wolf. I had to defend helpless bystanders against you! You cannot be one of the 'good guys'. Explain yourself, or I will be forced to take you to the dog pound, immediately."
"Helpless?!?" Jess exploded. "You cannot sit there and seriously call Wraith helpless! Did you see the wound he left in my gut? If I were human, I would have been dead!" Her eyes narrowed. "You're the one with the whip, aren't you?"
"I saw a huge, wild animal apparently attacking a group of Mac 27s and humans. My instinct was to incapacitate the creature that seemed to be out of control. Anyone would have jumped to the same conclusion."
Sasha put a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down. "Jess was meant to be a weapon to fight the alien invaders," he addressed Gross. "Something about Wraith triggered those instincts. I haven't seen her show an inclination to attack anyone else, unless she's defending someone or herself. One specifically requested for Jess to find Pendrell. One trusts her, and so do I."
Gross raised an eyebrow, and looked deliberately at the road, thinking hard. This person was a werewolf, he supposed. Another extraordinary event to add to the list! He was certainly living life to the full! However, werewolves were bad, everyone knew that, yet here was One vouching for her, and a Mac 27 willing to be her friend. He knew he must trust their judgment. Having decided, Gross never had second thoughts.
He held out his hand to Jess, and said, "I am sorry if my actions were wrong. I merely did what seemed right to me. Please let us put it behind us; we are going to fight together, and must trust each other completely. I would be pleased and grateful if you would shake my hand, to seal our new relationship."
Jess took Gross's hand and shook it firmly. "No hard feelings, Gross. Just don't crack that whip on my nose anymore, deal?"
"There is a problem," she said. "If I have to Change into a wolf, I can't talk. But most likely I will have to in order to locate the other Mac 27s. I don't know how we'll communicate. I can understand human speech though, for what that's worth."
"We'll have to figure out something," Sasha commented. "We're about ten minutes from the entry point."
Jess closed her eyes as she felt Leigh's probe. ~Jess, where are you?~
~Almost at the entry point.~
~We are just lifting off from the compound now. We know about One and Mac Brown. Will you wait till we are closer before moving in?~
~No Leigh, I'm sorry.~
~Okay, take care and keep in touch.~
~I will. Do you have Roy with you?~
~Yes.~
~Look after him for me.~
Leigh grinned, ~I will.~
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Drusilla had been wandering. Looking over the large accommodation after making sure that Samantha was shepherded in safely with the escort she had made of Michael Pinocchio. The men of metal went about their business as she pulled the curtains closed, lest the encroaching dawn light its burning rays upon her undead form.
Spike had gone for some reason and she sensed a sort of aggravation about him, although she knew for not why. It surely could not be something he disagreed with earlier, for she had waited patiently before making decisions; lest he himself have something to say. In the end Dru had surmised it was left up to her. Neither, she supposed, could it have been the issue of food. She had related to him what she saw in prophetic vision; them existing quite happily on what was left of humanity, who would be bred in farms for their pleasure, food and entertainment. Blood too she saw as being artificially produced as good as the real thing, for the use of covering the metal men in masking flesh to play games of 'pretend'. Not that it mattered if people themselves were to be kept for their feasting. Inga Fossa was, after all, to be at the head of it and would enjoy such things herself too.
No. Whatever it was, he had kept to himself. Something that troubled her, considering how he had wanted to renew their union. Was it something wrong with her personally? Overall she found it a rather troubling set of affairs.
Already Drusilla was growing emotionally lonely. Although fond of Michael Pinocchio, she stopped short of giving affections saved only for Spike. The man may have ingested blood but was nonetheless still a mortal man. He was meant to function as escort for Samantha, a pet when required and primarily as one to gradually give her William back his bite. Dru had requested he go and refresh himself with cleanliness, feed and drink, else his blood levels would remain depleted.
Samantha, likewise, seemed to be interested in exploring her own way around the new abode and Dru knew not when she would return.
So instead she waited as one of the unliving in a place named living room. A vampire waiting for her beloved and thinking on dreams for when the promises of demoness would come to fruition: A time when she and Spike would be safe and merry from the spoils of a war yet to come.
Drusilla stood dreaming. She stood and waited for love and company.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Pinocchio showered in one of the extravagant rooms, threw on clothing, a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt that seemed to cling to him. He wandered out, boots on the carpet moving quietly. He had already eaten. He had to give Santiago credit... he always kept the best for himself. Nothing but the best for him.
He wondered where the military leader was? Probably off making plans with his so called ex. The thought brought a scowl to his face. He finished strapping his gun to his hip, his ever-faithful companion. He looked into room after room, remembering a time in Harsh Realm when he would steal whatever he could carry; for in that world, luxuries like this were scarce.
He spotted the rather large living room, a lone figure sitting inside. The room was dark, heavy drapes drawn to hide the sunlight. He stood in the doorway, silently watching the young woman. Why did she carry such a heavy torch for someone who could care less for her? He felt Spike was using her... keeping her around so not to be lonely till he found a companion he felt more suited for him.
Kind of the way Inga had treated him. He sighed softly, if she could only see... he would give her the world. But was it really him thinking that... or what he had done, drinking of her and becoming a mere... pet. Was that just how she saw him? As just a mere pet? Someone to drink from when she wanted or needed it? Part of him said yes, screamed it in fact and wanted him to run away, escape this place and find Hobbes.
But another part, a stronger part, drew him to the woman, told him no... she cares... she needs him, loves him to a point and if he stayed long enough... he could show her just how much he did. He would kill for her, protect her, love her, rip the moon and the stars from the heavens and give them to her if she so asked. Just he mere thought of her touching him, returning his caresses, his kisses, not to stop short like she had done before but to take it all the way, giving in, brought shivers of pleasure to his body.
He took a deep breath to calm himself, to push those thoughts aside for...they would never be. Pushing himself from the doorframe, he wandered in silently. Any normal human would not hear him, but her kind, he was sure she did but she did not react for, he was not who she wanted.
He came around to her, knelt before her, looking up at her. "You want me to get you anything?" he asked softly, blue eyes gently caressing her form.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
In another part of the house, Inga stood looking at the monitor, her two beauties behind her. "I knew that the one called Spike was weak," she snorted. "The foolish girl clings to him not knowing he would give her up in a heartbeat for another. But he played right into our hands did he not my sweets?"
She reached up behind her and stroked both Terminators' cheeks, feeling warmth in one, covered with human skin and the other, cold, much like Dru when she tasted of her. "Go ahead, call, tell the others we will be on our way soon."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Having spoken to the battered android, Spike went in search of the others. These guys were the bad guys, that was bloody certain. Well, bad was good... but bad was also more dangerous to Spike's health than good, not being so inhibited, as it were.
Lo and behold, there was Dru, with the pup at her feet. Fuck, he wished he could kick the bugger. Enough to make you puke, seeing him fawning round her; and the sod was cheeky, too, knowing that Spike couldn't touch him.
Dru was making a *big* mistake, that was for sure. Inga was a demon, and demons always had their own agendas, no matter what their promises. He should know. He was one.
He looked at his princess. She was out of her depth... and so was he. He couldn't leave her here... they'd use her and throw her away, yet it was hopeless trying to reason with her. Maybe if the cavalry turned up, they could escape in the confusion.
Still, there was one thing he could do. He'd made up his mind he didn't like Inga, and Inga was fair game. So were those creatures of hers. No humanity in them.
If they won, he was sure he and Dru would be expendable.
He was going to have a shot at killing her.
A search of the house revealed no guns, but some antique weapons decorated the walls of a large meeting room. Selecting a huge two-handed sword, he crept to the room where he had heard Inga talking to her cohorts, and burst in. He wasn't about to issue threats, or any of that crap, that just got you slaughtered. A quick strike, and if it got to be dangerous, he was out of there.
Leaping at the cunt that looked like a metal man, Spike swept his sword around in a wide arc, and slashed his head right off his body. The head flew out of the open window into the street below.
Turning to Inga, he thrust wildly, and drove the sword with all his strength through the point where a human's heart should be.
Inga looked down at it then up at him, unfazed by what had just happened. She reached up and slapped him with a force that sent him clear across the room. She pulled the sword out and snorted.
Oh, bollocks... big mistake, thought Spike, regretting his impulsiveness, and heading like a bullet for the door.
The T-1000 was on Spike quickly, knocking all weapons from him, his body morphing around Spike's attacks. He pinned the inhuman easily to the wall after delivering near skull crushing blows.
Inga walked over, a glare in her eyes, "You foolish vampire. Do you know how many of your kind have tried to kill me?" She laughed, "Now what would little Dru say to all this? Hum? Maybe I'll ask her, tell her that her lover boy doesn't want to live in bliss with his beloved princess, but would rather be fucking one called Cory... Foolish boy, you could have had it all, I was laying it out before you... but you can't trust can you."
Spike slumped to the floor, his whole body a mass of pain, and he snarled at Inga bestially. Here she came. Predictable. They all liked to gloat. All thought they were god's gift to the dark side... most evil monster ever to walk the planet. If he hadn't been in such pain he'd have laughed at the clichs coming from her lips. But Spike's eyes widened at the mention of Cory. How had she known that? Bloody hell, it was bad enough dealing with demons with weird physical abilities without them being fucking mind readers, too.
The T-1000 lifted the vampire up, "I should throw your head out the window like you did my Terminator, but I have something else in mind for you. You see," She motioned of the T-1000 to bring Spike and he did with ease. She walked into a dark room. "Nail him to the floor with these crosses." She instructed tossing them over. "Holy objects don't work on me... but they do on you."
Inga walked over and opened the large bay windows; the sun started to peek in. "Within minutes, the sun will fill this room. Give me a good reason not to kill you." She heard the screams coming from him as the T-1000 just gave Spike a cold look then stabbed the wooden crosses through his hands, and feet.
Through the agony, Spike could hardly form words. He glanced over at the window, and knew he didn't have much time to think of a reply. All that came was the truth.
"If I thought you had a reason not to kill me and Dru, I wouldn't have tried to get you first. I've been shat on by demons too many times to believe a word any of them say. Jam bloody tomorrow, every bloody time."
He bit his tongue, trying to quell the burning sensation licking from the wounds up his limbs towards his body.
"You can tell Dru what you like. She knows me, knows I've fancied other people over the years, and she knows I love her. Whatever I do, she'll forgive me, just like I'd forgive her. It's our fate."
Still no idea came what he could offer this demon for his life. Still worse, if he died, what would happen to his princess?
I can't believe I just thought that! he said to himself. Altruism... vampire? Nope... not possible.
Anyway, he suspected Inga's altruism was right up there with pigs flying. It could take what it wanted, which is why he couldn't trust it. Safer to be a demon amongst mortals, than a demon in league with demons. Have it all, she said. Some chance. His reward, and Dru's, would be a quick death if they were lucky, once Inga had no more use for them.
Drusilla stood in the doorway; about to respond in a somewhat mournful fashion to Pinocchio, she had come rushing to Spike's aid at his screams -to her bloodied offspring. Ready as she was to tear open Hell itself to get him back until overhearing both words and feelings in conflict.
In short, Drusilla was emotionally wounded by betrayal of both sides. Inga knew what he meant to her, and Spike... oh Spike. Why ever did he want to stray? With Inga perhaps, she might believe it. The demon had such a powerful sense of influence that any creature - alive or undead - was near powerless against her own seduction.
But not with others.
She had been forced to leave him, as painful as the experience had been, for his growing obsession with the Slayer and now he was doing it again. For with a psychic, a mental affair was almost as bad as a physical one.
Inga stood back watching as the so-called young woman slowly walked in. Her eyes never leaving Spike. She could tell the woman felt betrayed but she was the one who was attacked, falsely accused of actions she had not done.
Yes she had betrayed others, Pinocchio for one. She stole his heart and never gave it back. If anything, she killed it. But her Pinocchio was special... and always would be to her. But this one, he did not know what she would do to them. She was like no other demon he had encountered. She had taken a liking to the young vampire, her innocence, her playfulness, and her devotion. She guessed it reminded her of Pinocchio in the beginning...till Harsh Realm got to him.
The T-1000 came and stood beside her, bodyguard and companion. "We should make repairs to the T-800. It is almost time to leave. The others are waiting." He stated. Inga nodded in silence as she watched the scene unfold before her.
Walking over in a contradictive concoction of stoic attitude and internally biting sorrow, Dru gestured to the demoness to leave her vampiric son be. It was a moment of silence as she felt the sun about to rise. Not caring for her own hands that burnt in noxious fumes like acid, as she gripped each cross to be removed from Spike's undead body. It was not a moment of rejoicing though, as she helped him up to stand, tenderly kissed and then looked regretfully into the eyes of a favourite son she had made with an eternal bite.
"It's true isn't it? What she said. I can see it in your head now, dancing round like fairy-lights."
SLAP
There was force behind her strike across his face. A sense of having to lash out because, as with what he felt for the Slayer, she could not change the path his heart wished to follow. Yet it instantly turned to a caress of hand against that same alabaster skin.
Drusilla looked over to Inga and the man of changing silver metal with a similar look of accusing betrayal for attempting to make one of her childer turn to dust. She couldn't help it - a mother's instinct covered in that of a lover protecting their other half.
"The sun'll be up soon." Whether meant for the sake of formality or Spike's benefit was not clear. The vampiress simply turned on her heels and left for the door without a further word being voiced. She left that room as though the world had been upturned forever and made her way back downstairs. Not wanting to be touched - not wanting to speak.
Just needing time.
Time perhaps, for her to contemplate leaving them all for the sun's rays later in the day.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Inga looked at Spike, snorted at him shaking her head and then walked out, the T-1000 following as they alone of all could exit the house into the rising sun and retrieve the head of their companion to effect repairs.
"I will pay for what he has done, say the word and his life will be dust." the T-1000 spoke.
"No my love," Inga said softly, "I think he will be paying enough soon. His thoughts are his dagger... her heart the victim. He is betraying the one being that would give him the world... all for human pleasures."
"That is why they are... inferior, must be terminated," came the cold voice of the T-1000.
"Man is destined to destroy himself, we will only... help him along," Inga said as she lifted the head and stroked the T-800's face.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Pinocchio watched from a distance as the young woman left the room. He saw deep sorrow in her beautiful features and followed for he felt and saw the same look in a mirror once... when he looked at himself.
Silently he moved till she entered a darkened room, nearly black save a few candles lit. He stood and watched her. He had a feeling she knew he was there, he didn't care. He wanted to comfort her for no one was there for him when he'd felt the same way... he wanted to be there for her.
Boots scuffed softly on the floor as he walked over. Not touching her he stood behind her. "Betrayal is the worse evil one could feel and give to a heart. I know." He leaned over to her to whisper softly in her ear. "The devil stuck her tongue in your ear... I know, she did it to me. Neither one of us could run fast enough... could we."
Dru just looked down at the floor. Swirling patterns in the carpet were hidden by a darkness through which only she could see. Where was Samantha? Her darling daughter and little fellow Princess. Not here. Around but not here.
Just like Spike.
He moved around to stand before her. "I was alone when it happened, no one to comfort me... to help ease the pain. It made me like this... what I am. You don't have to... I'm here for you... if you want me." He was speaking from his heart... not from under her influence, but from his heart, from his own experience and he meant the words he spoke.
"But I made you stronger."
The words were melancholy but truthful. Drusilla looking up in her ever-present affectionate way, now laced with sorrow for a potential parting of ways between herself and William the Bloody. The second time it would have been for an obsession of his that she could see. "And try as I might," she said with a hand brought softly to the side of his face, "there's no stoppin' what's already done an' I'd burn for want of that, so I would. Sometimes I wonder why little Anne can't play no longer." That same hand slid trailing fingers down and away from semi-childe's face.
"Then I remember," the voice solemnly enlightened.
"Angelus killed her you know. Ripped 'er from me, just like 'ee did with all them throats. Never was a one for... leavin' me be without pain." Her expression at that was clearly troubled. A vampiress, who had never been well adjusted to a perpetual life of damnation after death and, perhaps, who had never adjusted at all. Simply drifting through it like an ocean in the sea of time that she drowned in.
Again.
And again.
And again...
"I miss Prague," she said of the place where a mob had left her more dead than undead. Sick and in need of a cure that eventually came, thanks to both Spike and her sire who had since been given a waking soul. "My Spike... took ever such a good care o' me, so 'ee did after we left. Made me right as rain in the end. Maybe... maybe I'm better off out of it though." Placing fingers to chin, Drusilla was fraught with confusion. "I made 'im... went all around the world we did, eatin' all kinds of people an' doin' all kindsa' strange things. It was ever so lovely but now..." There was a sigh of self-resignation as Dru came to the most obvious of conclusions: That of there being none. "I don't know what I've done wrong."
Mouth curved in a sort-of smile, even if she felt like not doing so. "I'd turn you for me own too if I could. I'd love you proper, but my Spike wouldn't-" Again she averted eyes in puzzlement. "Wouldn't like it. Me 'avin' another." Or perhaps that was the way to go? To sire Michael Pinocchio as a full member of the undead and a true mate, just as Spike...at least as Spike had once been. His behaviour of late was confusing to her now. What she desired above all else was selfless love for her and no others: What she sensed was that the soldier was willing to give that, whereas Spike had been emotionally pushing her away at times. "You're ever such a sweet boy Michael," Drusilla offered. Silent mind wondering how he might feel about the eternal bite creating him as fledgling demon. "But my love... I don't know what Spike wants no more. I wanted 'im back so bad I...I thought he..." Hanging head in reluctant shame, Dru sank down into the sofa. Thoughts shifting onto family, family, family and the fathomless problem of what she had done wrong to make her William so want another.
"If he leaves," she swallowed with a further look up at the mortal man. "Promise you'll still be here. For Samantha if not me. I don't like it when blood wants to leave inside."
Pinocchio dropped down beside her, wrapping mortal arms around her, "I will still be here." He smiled slightly, "Babysitting Samantha is kind of like babysitting Hobbes." But then his blues came to rest on hers.
He drew her closer to him, his body heat reaching out to her, getting none in return really. But he didn't care. His hand slid down the curve her back created, his eyes gently caressing her features. "I'm not a boy Princess, but a man... a man who will love you till the end of days if you let him. One who will never leave you for when he gives his heart, he gives his soul. You don't need to turn me... you have me," he had leaned in and was whispering it in her ear, "All you have to do is accept me."
He pulled back slightly then brought his lips to hers in a passionate kiss, stealing a taste of her. One hand reached to his collar and pulled it aside, "But if you must," he finally said, breaking the kiss and offering her himself.
Her gaze penetrated deeper than a thousand cuts of diamond. The essence of one being made in nineteenth century London and days of horse and carriage, reaching out to another quite different, yet in some ways the same.
And there was indeed love to be found there if Spike's own proved not to be.
The kiss had both stunned and excited her and Drusilla may have had to catch her breath, if the need of it still resided in her undead form. He was willing to be hers forever in the closest possible way known to her kind. To be reborn into darkness with a further swallow of her own essence once at death's imposing door.
Startled for a moment at the magic of it all, the vampiress edged closer to her William's potential successor. Fangs lengthening, facial contortion arising and eye sockets altering, with their contents changing hue from innocent blue to a more otherworldly yellow. Those same eyes washing over his mortal body in the foresight of the familial creation that she could transform him to. Such a killer he could make. Such a wonderfully protective escort he could become and, in fact, already was, once helped to bathed in her own blood's flame that he craved now even in mortal life.
Yes. She could sleep safely in the moonlight with him.
Smile raised, Drusilla tilted head and moved in, down to the throb of artery now begging to be cut. One kiss to jaw-line and a flutter of unbeating heart. Another upon the skin of neck just waiting to be broken by the slit of embedded canines that could soon follow. One hand reaching around to bury fingers in hair and urge her soon-to-be's head back further, to expose that rich expanse of throat even more.
"You'll never leave me, will you?"
Carnivorous teeth, sharp and deadly, revealed themselves like multiple daggers against his skin. Each one making gradual contact as though savouring the bite into a sweetened cake composed of flesh. A kiss of true eternity, falling like twilight along with hair just as black that cascaded majestically over her shoulders. A kiss of vampiric perfection.
A kiss of the damned.
Just like she gave William...
Eyelids fluttered just before pressing fangs scissor-like down to where blood did flow and she stopped just before that fateful incision was to be made. Could she be sure that Spike wished for betrayal to continue? Not yet and she drew back because of it.
"No," she said in half-apology. "Not 'til I know. I... I can't say what 'ee wants no more." As worry fast replaced seduction, all features of vampirism smoothed out to show the Princessly humanity that she still possessed, even after over 130 years to the contrary. "I need to know. Need to know what Spike wants," she explained with an almost fearful look into the man she had almost made a vampire. "If he wants another... if... if I've lost my William's heart for good..." She turned away, not wanting to think about the consequences and knowing - knowing - that if Spike were to show another sign of drifting elsewhere, that he would 'taste of ashes', just as she had told him in South America not long before deciding to leave.
Standing up, Dru moved hurriedly to a candle for want of something to take her mind off other events around them. "I'm sorry. I can't. Can't and I don't know what to do."
Pinocchio slowly stood and joined her by the candle. He ran both hands up the side of her arms. One moved to the front of her neck, slowly moving up it, tilting her head back into his chest. He leaned down and kissed her soft creamy neck, taking in her scent as he ran the flats of his teeth along it till he reached her ear, "My love for you will burn eternally, if you let it. Or," he nipped her neck then blew out the candle, "... you can end it... I leave it up to you."
He pulled away and walked out, going to search for the little one, Sammy as he called her. He found her sleeping in one of the rooms and went to her. He crawled onto the large bed with her and pulled the small child to him, embracing her like a father would. Not that he would know since he never had any children and honestly, taking care of them was not his strong suit.
Samantha smiled at Michael, nestling into his arms. "What's up?" she yawned, sleepily. "How's Mummy? At least Father's dead. That's good!" She giggled a bit.
"I had a pet pup when I was younger. He killed it, you know..."
She looked at Michael. "You wouldn't kill my pet, if'n I had one, would you?"
She smiled, snuggling against him, and closed her eyes. "I'm full...tired..."
Pinocchio stroked the little girl's hair, "No sweetheart, I didn't kill Hobbes' mutt, why would I kill yours..." he directed his eyes at the door, staring at it. A soft sigh left him. He hoped the Princess would be all right... that she would get her hearts desire for she deserved it... everyone did... well most everyone.
He pulled the little girl onto his body, so she was on top of him, her head on his chest and in the crook of his neck, the rest laid out on him. He pulled the blanket up over them, settling but his eyes never leaving the door and a weapon under the blanket just in case.
Darkness surrounded him; in the distance voices could be heard but not. The man couldn't move, feeling an unknown weight upon him. Images still flashed out of the darkness, coming at him, haunting him... as they always have. They were of past and present, future and fantasy, whirling around him, blending one into the other, not known where one began and another ended. He felt like he was being torn, torn between two worlds, one he did not want to leave another that called to him, begging him to come back.
His head tossed on the pillow. A voice that sounded familiar whispered out to him, "Go back now. All wake up soon! Danger's coming. Comin' for us all." The voice was of his love, the woman he loved, wanted but could not give herself to him because of a devotion to another.
"No," came his voice softly, "I won't leave you."
"You must," she spoke again.
Her image appeared before him, as lovely as he knew she could be. She was dressed as a Princess, so pretty and soft though he knew what lay underneath. He threw his arms around her, "I won't leave you. I love you..." He insisted, holding her so tightly.
"I know you do," she petted.
"Then don't send me away," Pinocchio insisted, clutching to her. He bent down and lips met in a kiss of desperation, seeking a response of equal devotion.
"Oh sweet one... If I only knew you were out there, before devotion was given to another... Another who looks at the light when heart belongs in darkness." She ran her hand through the curls of his hair. The pain in his face could so easily be read, heart was breaking as it had so many times in the past. These memories would leave a scar on him; deepen others, though they were not real. It was only real to the dreamer, to the man that carried so much pain. One more break and his heart would be dead.
She leaned into him; giving a kiss so tender she felt a tear. "When love's devoted to one such as I... For all eternity that is. But you won't forget me." Smiling in affection, the woman's hypnotically ridden gaze met his to connect once more. "Maybe one day, hmm...?"
And that implied invitation hung in the air like a honey-glazed scent of darkly lit sweetness.
"You will already have my heart, no one else can give it back but you," he was resigning to the impending end.
"You must awaken... Family needs you, danger is afoot. Have to protect...Fight 'em for us. My little Samantha needs you," she spoke with insistent tone.
It ended with only one more sentiment:
"Goodbye my darling."
The soft touch of cool lips giving waking life to his mind...
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