The Game 50
Edited by Karen Leigh
Fox heaved a sigh, and relaxed onto Alex's chest, listening to his heartbeat, and trying to remember how many weeks it had been since he'd spent a whole day, uninterrupted, with his lover.
*Nine weeks, two days,* whispered Mulder, *And I've been miserable every single one of them.*
*One thing we agree on, Spooky! So I'm making the most of this.* He smiled against his favourite assassin , and lifted a brow. Where to start? It was all so delectable, though he suspected that the stubble he was sporting to match Alex's, might be unpopular in some of those tender erogenous zones. Still, it was worth the risk. Maybe Alex would get mad, and... Fox's guts felt that they were going to melt. Alex would get mad, and perhaps Fox would get just what he wanted.
There was warm, smooth skin under his cheek, and a little puckered nipple. He flicked at it with his forefinger, and then gave it a tweak. Putting an arm behind him, he tugged his t-shirt over his head, and wriggled over Alex's bare chest. His hands snaked down to their flies - first his own, and then his gorgeous Alex's were undone, and soon he was letting him know, by direct means, just what a hard-on was. His cock pressed into his lover's groin, snug, a little uncomfortable, and he slid hands under Alex's shoulders, and writhed against him.
"Want you, my sweet Alex," he purred, half to himself. It was an affirmation for Fox. Other guys were fun, but the way he felt, just being near Krycek was magical. Probably that's why Mulder gets so uptight about it, he thought. For me he's paradise, the promised land; to him, he's a shameful addiction... and neither of us wants to find a cure. He looked down into Alex's eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip. "Fuck me, Alex, please. I want your cock inside me. I want to feel you, in every part of me."
He waited for a slap, for Alex to push him away. Alex usually didn't like it when he begged. But Jesus Christ, he wanted this evil bastard so much; he couldn't help himself.
"Let me get this straight, Fox. You think that we're gonna get done with what I want to do with you on a 15 minute ride in the back of a fucking pick up truck? I don't think so, but... it's your frustration levels we'll be feeding."
He ran his fingers into Fox's hair, and seized it, pulling Fox's head back so that he could fix his mouth to the pretty, petulant lips.
Fox opened for him, sucking the strong tongue into his mouth hungrily. So far, so good. He levered his boots off, and slid hands into his tight leather pants, trying hard to remove them.
"Come to think of it, Fox, my love, you are never more gorgeous than when you're needy. I believe that we can play a little, but if you think I'm going to let you come before midnight, you're SOL." Again he brought their mouths together, drinking in Fox's moans, before letting go his hair and moving his hand down to where the man's dick strained against the supple leather that he wore. He smacked Fox's hands away. "Naughty, Fox. Did I tell you that you could touch? If I see you touch again, the deal's off. You won't be coming at midnight either."
"You... don't mean it?" Fox whispered, his shocked eyes wide with hunger. His hands clenched and unclenched impotently. "Please..."
When Fox whimpered, Alex laughed and stroked the smooth, slick leather again and again, his face that of an interested spectator as Fox writhed.
"Oh god, Alex, I won't be able to hold it, if you do that." His voice was almost a sob. Alex's touch was like a flame on his dick, already painfully bound by his tight pants. He jerked his hips back and placed his palms on Alex's chest, to hold him away, cocking his head questioningly. The smile on Alex's face told him he meant every word. Fox's lips twitched, and he laughed. "Mother-fucking bastard. You are evil incarnate, my sweet. I'm not even gonna be able to walk, let alone think."
He leaned down, ran his tongue over Alex's fly, feeling a pull on his skin as his leaking cock stuck to the leather of his trousers.
He couldn't touch himself, but Alex wasn't out of bounds.
"When did you ever know me not to mean what I say?" Alex asked, his voice smoky, diesel with sugar as he ran his hands over Fox's slim, taut body. "Think of it as a lesson in willpower, my love. You need one." He chuckled at the groan that his words elicited, and a shivery pleasure shot through him as he felt the extent of Fox's need for him.
Suddenly sitting up and rolling Fox over, Alex covered him. "Come on, baby, better sublimate for a little while. I think that we're almost there, and there just isn't time."
"You're kidding, Alex? Not so soon?" Fox looked up at him mournfully. "Mulder will have to take over; you know I'm no good in a fight, and he's feeling so shitty he's gonna be hell to work with." He gave a resigned smile, and writhed under Alex's weight, opening his thighs to work himself wantonly against Alex's leg. "Kiss me goodbye, lover, and try to miss me?"
He leaned over, pressing his mouth to Fox's lush lips, working his tongue into the soft mouth.
Fox clung to him. He was used to Alex leaving, knowing he was probably heading into danger, but hated the rare occasions when Mulder accompanied him, and Fox actually had to watch, and worry. He felt like a wuss, but this stuff was Mulder's forte, and he'd just be a burden.
His hands roved in delight over Alex's muscular body, and he gave himself completely to the kiss, making his brief joy last until the truck slowed and stopped.
He let himself drift away, still in Alex's arms, and Mulder returned to enjoy the last of it, before Alex eased off him, and pulled him to his feet.
Alex felt a momentary pang as he felt the change in Mulder. He cupped the other man's face and kissed his eyelids softly.
"Soon, Fox," he murmured, and stood a second, wishing...
Mulder smiled grimly. His could still feel the odd buzzing in his brain, but the brief respite had given him a chance to think through it, put it aside. It wasn't like a headache, more like radio interference. If he concentrated on the job in hand, and didn't let his mind wander, as it usually did, he'd probably be okay.
He pulled one of the tarps aside.
"There seems to be a good choice of weapons here, Krycek. Have you any idea what we're going to face, what we'll need?"
"Wraith," was the curt response from Alex. "I have no idea what we need. Whatever we have is probably not going to be enough. Wits are about the only thing that I can think of, and mine seem to have gone begging."
He looked around at the main door and then with a fatalistic sigh, stepped inside.
Mulder watched him go with a shrug. Knowing Alex, he had everything he needed hidden on his person. It was just a shame that Fox hadn't had time to find out, he thought with a shiver, taking the chance to rub his hand over his still-swollen crotch now that Alex was out of sight.
Once they saw action, he would be able to forget how Alex had left his body... aching for his lover's touch. But more than half-an-hour wandering around empty corridors, and he didn't think he'd be able to control himself; as for waiting until midnight, fuck that!
*It's hot,* said Fox, pointedly.
*It's a damned stupid distraction,* snarled Mulder, pulling the boxes and bags of weapons around, looking for inspiration.
"Where the heck did you get this arsenal from, Gross?" he asked the Mac 27, who had just climbed into the truck box.
"Mr. Brule seemed well stocked. I suspect he may not be a respectable citizen," said Gross, carefully. He looked off into the distance, where Jess and Sasha were just disappearing into a manhole. He and Sasha would remain in communication; Sasha could relay messages on to the compound if Gross' systems were not powerful enough. "I did not know what would be needed. I brought a wide selection of implements."
"You get together a bag of explosives, and multi-personnel devices...gas... maybe a taser? The odder things. Nothing too bulky. I'll go for the one-on-one, conventional weapons."
In a couple of minutes, they had armed themselves. Mulder had a light machine gun, as well as a powerful handgun. As an afterthought, he picked up a beautiful broadsword, wickedly sharp. It glittered in the sunlight as he swept it in a wide arc. "Last resort," he said, with a tight smile. "Maybe, if all else fails, primitive technology will save the day."
"There's nothing primitive about a good sword," objected Gross, as they strode towards the building. "Centuries of development..."
They were still discussing the finer points of steels and blades when they came upon Alex, who motioned them to be quiet. On the step in front of him was a tiny figure, a child, asleep.
"Shh... It's a kid. What the hell is she doing there?"
Mulder peeped over Alex's shoulder. "Is she okay?" he whispered. The child had long brown hair, and was wearing a dress that looked crumpled and dirty. Mulder knelt to take a closer look; she seemed to be sleeping. He put a hand out to touch her, to wake her gently, but she didn't stir, so he rolled her onto her back, to see if she was injured.
"Come on, Mulder. We don't have too much time to waste on this."
For a long moment he stared at her face, breathing shakily, and then got up slowly turning to Alex. "Do you see who this is? What is this Alex? Do you know about this... experiment too?"
"It's a kid. Come on, Mulder. Leave her. She'll be there when we come back. She's out for the count."
"This *kid* is Samantha, Alex," Mulder shouted. "Samantha... again. What the hell is going on, now?"
"Don't be stupid. Samantha should be about thirty something. This is just a kid."
Mulder bent down to shake her more roughly, but she seemed to be drugged. "It's a fucking copy... a clone... or an alien. It's Samantha."
"You mean that Innobotics clones as well as the Consortium? Shit!"
"A thing... that looks like her. How many more of these are there, eh? Did they make them, along with the Alex robots, like Gross, here? Do you know about this, Alex? Tell me the truth!" Mulder grabbed Alex's coat, and shook him. "Do you?"
"Mulder, what are these things for? I know that they have duplicates of you and me, but this...? I can't stand it."
"You can't stand it?" said Mulder, incredulously.
"How about you?" he said, turning to Gross. "Have you seen anything like this? You come from this place..."
"There were never any children manufactured, Agent Mulder," replied Gross. "This must be a real child."
Krycek stood scratching his head. "Mulder, do you know how it feels to look at face after face and see yourself? It's getting to me. There were children made though. You told me that. That farm...."
"I remember. They had no real individuality, though." His shoulders drooped. "This is sick... " He picked up the child, and looked from one to the other. "It could be one of those, I suppose. No way to tell until she wakes. What shall we do with her?"
"Hmmm. We can't keep toting her around with us, no matter what. Damn it all, what the hell can we do with her?" Krycek wanted to strangle the inert child that lay in Mulder's arms. "Do you suppose we could just put her outside in the truck? Or maybe send her back to the compound somehow?"
"I can take her, Mr. Krycek," offered Gross, "Though it will leave you with no means of contacting the compound."
"Fuck! I don't like that option at all." He turned to Mulder. "What do you want to do?"
"I'm not willing to take her, or leave her unguarded. It's not Samantha, and Christ knows what it really is." Mulder looked to be at the end of his tether. "The kid could be anything, could be a danger."
"You think that it's dangerous?" Krycek hadn't thought of that. He frowned and turned to Gross. "Maybe you'd better get it back to the compound."
"Call them, and let them know, Gross. Maybe someone can meet you part way and you can hurry back here. Get her to Scully... she can investigate, and she'll make sure the kid is well-guarded."
"Very well," said Gross, handing his bag to Krycek, and taking the child. "To Dr. Scully? I will deliver her as fast as possible. What if she should wake?"
"If you are sure she is a threat," Mulder hesitated, then continued hoarsely, "Kill her."
Gross nodded, and ran from the building. Mulder drew a deep breath, and straightened his shoulders. "Where now, Alex? Where do we have to go?"
Krycek had been in this building once before, but as a drugged and unwilling visitor. He was fucked if he knew where to take them. He'd hoped that Gross would know, having been crafted here, but now that whole idea was toast. Fuck! He wanted to kill something.
He turned to Mulder. "Well, seeing as your chivalrous intentions have robbed us of our roadmap, I guess that we toss a coin. I suppose that you do have a coin, don't you? If not, then we can either wing it or go home. I think I'm equally excited by each prospect. It's always so fucking exciting to be operating blind without a safety net, wouldn't you say?"
"Chivalrous intentions? That's bullshit, and you know it. That... thing; that travesty - if you can think of any good reason, any innocent reason - for it being right in my path I'd be really interested to hear it, Krycek."
"For fuck's sake. It's not always all about you, Mulder." Krycek snarled
He banged his various weapons down on a bench nearby and crowded right up to Alex, wrapping his hands around Alex's throat and squeezing just hard enough to be unpleasant. "And I've got you to thank for a lot of the time I've operated blind without a fucking safety net. Welcome to the club, Ratboy." Flinging Alex away from him he reached into his pocket, drew out a quarter and tossed it. "What does tails signify, O mighty leader?"
"It signifies the place I'm most likely to kick if you don't get yourself together, asshole," growled Krycek, fists balled. "We don't have time for this. Come on."
He restrained his urge to hit Mulder. The asshole would probably like it in his current frame of mind, and the last thing Alex wanted to do was reward him for being a shortsighted idiot. Finally, Alex turned towards the elevator.
"We go down," he decided and entered
"Okay, let's start at the bottom," said Mulder tightly, punching the button for the basement. "Maybe there'll be a building plan alongside the fuses. The bad guys traditionally make the most extraordinary mistakes." He leaned back against the side of the elevator and raised an insolent eyebrow at Krycek. Jeez, if he hadn't made a move Alex would still be bumbling about back at the compound trying to organize the crowd of dummies that infested it. "If there are secrets here, do you think they'd have told the Max 27's?" He smiled, damn... he was contradicting himself... that would be the perfect mistake. "Too bad about Gross; but they make them here, so there should be another couple thousand of the robots around. One's as good as another, after all."
"Yeah, as long as they are ones that have been treated with the program that I gave David, otherwise, I'd say you have a problem on your hands. Who are you gonna trust, baby boy?"
As the elevator opened on the dark and gloomy basement, Krycek slid from the cubicle into the shadows, his gun at the ready, and began to move along the wall, searching for what, he wasn't quite sure.
Mulder sidled after him, torn between silently following or investigating the various doors they passed which Alex was ignoring. Having spent too long peering into one which held rows of enticing filing cabinets he was just running on tiptoe to catch up with Alex when the lights went out. Inevitably he cannoned into Alex's back and they both crashed into a pile of empty canisters, knocking them over with a noise like a ton of knives and forks dropping onto a corrugated iron roof.
"Shit," said Mulder, feeling around for the other man. "Are you okay?"
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Wraith frowned. The invasion was a threat to Marita. It couldn't be ignored if it was actually beginning. Wraith caught at Hobbes' bicep and dragged the other man upright so he could look into his face. "How do you know? Is that what *Krycek* told you?" Wraith couldn't restrain the sneer that crossed his lips whenever he had to say that name. Fingers dug into muscle almost unconsciously. If the rogue triple-agent was the source of Hobbes' information, it was tainted.
Hobbes tried to jerk his arm away but found he couldn't, "No!" came his response. "We were told by the others, One and... David..." His blue eyes shot up to Wraith, "We need your help. The others have been... reprogrammed, changed I think, to better deal with this. I'm not at all sure... but I do know this... they need your help. You are a natural fighter... like my friend Pinocchio. You can advise them, help them, guide them, and fight by our side for the world's freedom."
"Please Wraith... there is more to the world than just.... this," he gestured around him, "If you want to protect the woman you are with...protect those you love, fight with me. Fight by my side. They are coming... and we are the world's only defense. I need you Wraith...please help me."
He fell silent, praying his words would get through. He knew this would not be easy but he had to somehow get through to the man. Alex saw Wraith as dangerous, and if he would not fight with them... the man wanted to kill Wraith. Hobbes wanted to make sure the latter did not happen. No one deserved to die till they were given a chance... except Santiago. Hobbes felt Wraith was just... misguided and he wanted him on the right track.
Hobbes stared up into the other man's eyes, his tongue quickly licking his lips as he waited to hear a response. The grip was painful, he would have a bruise he knew it, but he at least didn't back down from the man everyone seemed to fear.
"I was fighting by your side, Lieutenant. You were supposed to be my partner. You..." Hobbes was dragged closer until they were almost nose to nose. Wraith's complaints came out clipped and cold. "You. Changed. Sides." Betrayal was not something that was expected of soldiers. It was a thing for the men in suits who sat around the table. His voice rose even louder. "You left me for Krycek." A small shake punctuated Wraith's decidedly jealous shout. He expected Hobbes to jerk back, attempt to escape but the man held his stare.
"I will resist the invasion. I will put the resources of Innobotics to the task. I will do it to protect Marita." The whispered statement was qualified. "But *I* will do it. You keep Krycek away from this place. Your people are not welcome here. If I find any of your *robots* here I will strip and reprogram them to suit Marita's needs. Just because we have a mutual enemy... it does not make us friends."
Hobbes was shoved away. "You left me." It was a whine, Wraith realized that as soon as it passed his lips but it was too late to take it back.
Hobbes was stunned slightly but held his ground. The man was half acting like a jealous child. "I had a chip inside me... controlling me. When it was removed I didn't remember a thing between when Santiago captured me in Harsh Realm till NOW. Dammit, I didn't switch sides... I don't even know what the sides are. Krycek was the only one who told me what was going on. If you were my partner, where were you when they removed the chip from me? Where were you when I needed you? Krycek was the only one who told me anything of what was going on. I don't think he told me everything... I don't even think he truly knows or even understands the complete details."
He stepped bravely closer, "I do know this. You CAN'T just lock yourself up in this place and try and hold ground. There is more going on out there." He made a point to gesture out the doors. "There is more than just the alien invasion. Look at the bigger picture, Wraith. The world is going to hell out there. There are other forces besides just the invasion. Santiago is out there as well. He will wait, plan and strike you, all of us when we are at our weakest. Marita is not the world; everything does not revolve around her. If everything goes to hell in a hand basket and it will, there won't be a world or an Innobotics for her to run. Help me...and I will help you. Be MY partner again. I won't fail you..." His voice grew softer, "I won't leave you again. You have my word this time. Join me Wraith, join me in saving the world."
Hobbes was deadly close to Wraith now, able to smell him. The scent was so familiar... and in the back of his mind, he knew he had smelled it before. His blue eyes held Wraith's greens his body wanted to press to him for some reason, to feel him, taste him. He held his breath slightly, his heart started to speed up with anticipation of what the man would say next. He tentatively reached out and took the man's hand, "Be my partner Wraith... please, help me do what is right."
He should shake off the touch. Marita touched him, no one else. But that wasn't necessarily true, Wraith had to admit, Hobbes had touched him before and gotten away with it. These two pale haired beauties had been instrumental in turning his life upside down.
"I have to defend Marita." The declaration was whispered out. "I guard. It's what they programmed me for." That directive was forcing him to push past the point Wraith was comfortable with, past his normal level of expertise, but without clear, dependable orders it was all he had left. The technical information for this mode of operation was there, Wraith had stolen it out of Dr Sawyer's computer, but that didn't make him any more comfortable with the role. "Marita has to decide. I have to ask her."
He shouldn't allow Hobbes this close. It could all be a ruse. Any moment the young soldier could turn on him, betray him into Krycek's hands. Something had to be up... Hobbes was all but trembling and the soldier's breath was far too shallow and fast.
"Dammit, go past the programming they gave you. What does your heart say to do?" He saw the slight confusion on the man's face.
"Listen to my heart? That's nonsense. I guard. I follow orders." Wraith frowned heavily. Hobbes wanted decisions about long-term plans. It was beyond any point Wraith had considered. "Call Marita back, she will..."
"Wraith... you don't have to ask Marita. She doesn't own you, no one does, make YOUR OWN decisions. For once in your life; go by what is in your heart and not in your head. You don't need her to tell you what to do. I know you aren't like the others... you are special, Wraith."
Feeling special wasn't something Wraith normally wished to experience. Most of the time being told he was special was a preamble to a particularly distasteful task.
Hobbes pressed forward, closing the little gap between them so their bodies now touched. His grip tightened on Wraith's hand, "I need you, Wraith." The admission was so unclear, even to Hobbes.
A shiver ran up Wraith's back that was barely contained. Only gritting his jaw and staring straight into Hobbes' eyes kept the sensation from becoming a noticeable, physical response. Even then it was betrayed by widening eyes and a sharp intake of breath. "Personal needs are irrel..." The statement strangled off unfinished. It was a lie. He was after all, now functioning purely on what Marita needed, not for the good of Innobotics any longer.
Fulfilling Hobbes' needs was another matter entirely. Wraith was no longer certain what exactly the other man was referring to. The body language Hobbes was using was reminiscent of Wraith's interactions with Marita but with a decidedly fiercer flavor to them.
Wraith's hand lifted, fingers spread wide to press against one side of Hobbes' face. He was missing something, something he could almost, but not quite understand. Tom didn't feel like Marita. His cheek was slightly rough and the bones were less prominent but tight with nervous tension. Wraith's touch slid higher. Marita's hair had been silkier and almost white blond. These strands were golden. His grip tightened as he studied the face so close to his.
He wanted to lock his lips with this man, taste him, and feel Wraith inside him. To feel those strong arms around him, to feel the same fury that he had once felt from Pinocchio. He knew that, unlike Alex, this man could give it to him, make him feel it.
"I know there's more. I know another perspective would help." Wraith wasn't sure why he chose those words exactly. "I just have to be careful."
But he also wanted Wraith by his side in a battle... much like Pinocchio. He felt he could trust this man as much as he could trust Mike, did trust. Slowly his lips parted, "What does your heart say is right?" Blues innocently looked up, his body feeling the heat coming from the other man, oh God he wanted this man, he wanted him so badly, he could almost taste it, causing his body to shiver slightly at just the mere thought.
Fascinating. The tighter he gripped Hobbes, the more the other man quaked. "You won't go to Krycek again. If you're with me. You stay with me. I don't trust Krycek. I'll deal with him if I have to, but I'll never trust him."
It wasn't his imagination, Tom's mouth was waiting for a kiss as obviously as any time Marita's had tipped up for Wraith. He had to have missed something during his training and his service to Mr. Hargreaves. Some file on social mores had been left out along the way. It seemed binding through physical interaction was common; at least it had been at the compound the Mac 27s had taken refuge in.
Wraith could do this. His encounter with Marita had been satisfying but after several long years without any kind of sexual contact, Wraith was more than willing to indulge.
He had no other point of reference. Wraith pressed a possessive kiss of the kind Marita melted under on his former and renewed partner.
Hobbes nearly fainted from the kiss. His head started to spin for the kiss was even better than he dreamed. Instantly his hips ground into the other man, almost pleading to take him. Fingers suddenly started to work feverishly at clothing before him, nearly tearing the material till his hands felt skin under them.
It was hot and smooth, strong and soft. Hobbes fingers slowly traced every muscle and a moan seeped out of him as he did so, tearing his lips from Wraith's to do so. His eyes caressed the exposed skin before him before he lowered his head to it. Hot breath covered the area his lips slowly went over while his fingers ran along the waistband before him.
Hobbes sank down to his knees. He was right at perfect level, slowly undoing the button before him and then the zipper. A scent drifted out to him and he closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, a palm rubbing over a hard erection under the material. He brushed Wraith's hands away when they even attempted to move near the area. Hobbes was determined not to be stopped.
He leaned in as he pulled the material open and his teeth caught at the waistband of underwear. He was pulling everything down at once, but slowly, as his tongue and lips adored the areas he exposed. Hobbes' breath quickened when his eyes met the hard flesh. Swallowing hard, he closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek along it, his hands slowly sliding back up the strong muscular thighs. One curled around to the ass as the other cupped balls gently.
A droplet of juice was run over his lips before sucking on the tip only, his teeth gently working, his tongue circling, pressing, and swallowing. A little more was worked in slowly and it kept going till Hobbes had a happy rhythm going. His tongue would push on the large vein, his teeth would scrape gently, and when he went all the way to the base, the back of his throat kneaded the man he wanted so badly.
Pinocchio always told Hobbes he was a natural at this and he liked doing it too. Especially when he would hear the moans and groans of pleasure coming from him. He hoped to hear the same ones from this man if not more.
Wraith hadn't expected Hobbes' remarkable reaction to the kiss, not that it wasn't welcome but it took Wraith a moment to process the overwhelming sensations that quite suddenly battered at him. He had to reach out and catch hold of a piece of equipment to maintain his balance. Wraith's second tryst with Marita had been like this but its manic fury had been cut by the activity going on inside Wraith's head as he interacted with Innobotics mainframe. This time there was nothing to dilute the physical reactions Hobbes' actions provoked.
All the breath gusted out of Wraith's lungs and his eyes squeezed shut. Wraith's mouth wouldn't close. He had to pant to get enough air.
He should reciprocate, Wraith knew that. That was the way sexual encounters were supposed to work. That was somewhere in his files. Still, the idea of moving... of possibly disturbing the other man and putting a halt to the way Tom's mouth was swallowing him down, it was intolerable.
His free hand shook, undecided. Wraith had touch Hobbes' hair. He curved his fingers, threading through spun gold and cupping the back of Tom's skull. It was to encourage rather than force the act. Hobbes was doing everything perfectly.
Hobbes moaned with Wraith at the back of his throat when he felt the man's hand on him. To have the man touch him sent even more shivers through Hobbes body as he drank Wraith down. Hobbes didn't want to leave this position; he wanted to worship him till no more could be taken.
But his body needed to feel the man drive into him. To feel powerful hips grinding into him and making him feel like he hadn't in a long time. Slowly Tom pulled off, sucking the whole way till he got to the tip and circled his tongue around it.
Hobbes' lips moved to the stomach, kissing his way back up again as hands lead the way. He pulled Wraith's shirt off the rest of the way, tossing it to the floor. Fingers admired the strong carved muscles as he moved his hands up the arms to the shoulders. Curving one hand around the neck Tom pulled him down.
He pressed in closer, breath heavy, burning the skin his mouth was trying to devour before finding lips once more. Pulling their mouths just barely apart, the words were forced out, "I want you inside me, I want you, oh God, I need you." Hobbes latched his lips to the others once more, his body shaking with the need.
Wraith ran the side of his hand down Hobbes' body while his mind sifted through possibilities. The way the other man quaked at the contact was seductive in the truest sense of the word.
Inside? He had to flip through several lines of thought before the request clicked into place. Heterosexual sex had been an unused, stored file. The methods of homosexual interactions were buried as well. Wraith hadn't accessed this information since his training had ended. Mr. Hargreaves had deemed all sexual activity a complete waste of Wraith's energy.
Hobbes was giving way before even the lightest touch, inviting Wraith to dominate the encounter. The fingers that had smoothed down Tom's chest and hip dug in slightly provoking a shivery moan from Hobbes. Prompted by these clues, the correct file locked into place.
Wraith's mouth opened against Hobbes'. The blond was bent back, shoved against one of the many counters in the lab. Without breaking the searching kiss he was forcing on Tom, Wraith's hands went to work stripping the other man. He didn't need to look to see what he was doing and besides, whenever a fastening wouldn't give way Wraith just tore it free. With each shredding of fabric Hobbes' hips jerked in response.
When arms wouldn't reach, Wraith dragged his open mouth lower, exposing his teeth to the sensitive skin under Tom's chin and down his throat. The soldier's pants were yanked open and peeled off. It wasn't enough to just pull Hobbes' clothing open like had been done to Wraith, he had to be stripped bare from his shoulders to his toes.
Once Hobbes was completely nude Wraith took the opportunity to explore every inch of his companion with his fingertips and mouth. Each point that made Tom squirm or moan was catalogued and lavished with attention. Surprisingly near the beginning of Wraith's investigation Hobbes' legs ceased to support his weight properly. It was simple enough to hold the other man upright. The control made it even easier to turn Tom in his grip to nip at the tender skin from the nape of Hobbes' neck to his tailbone. Hobbes eventually slumped forward onto the counter.
The curve of Tom's ass was very last spot Wraith turned his attention to. Pale skin was cupped, massaged and finally parted.
No lubrication, Wraith realized immediately. There was nothing in the laboratory that he would dare trust to do the task and Tom's saliva on Wraith's erection had long since dried. The jump in logic was quick. Wraith pushed his face between soft globes of skin, exhaled once in warning, and then flicked his tongue out.
Tom's mind was a blank, only the frantic need within him was controlling his mind. To feel the man return his kisses, to touch him. Oh God, when Wraith was almost tearing his clothes off, his mind exploded. Hobbes was now only reacting.
He could feel the cold counter under him but his body was on fire. The feel of hot breath graced him and then the tongue, his body shivered and his breath caught in his lungs and he had to remind himself to breath. "Oh god," he breathed his hands trying to find the edge to hold onto.
Hobbes tried to look over his shoulder, but he wasn't even sure if he could see through the haze he was feeling. His sucked in a hard breath when Wraith pushed his tongue inside him. His mouth then fell open in small pants.
"Please Wraith," Hobbes tried to get out, "Oh... need you... so much."
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After they had gotten their food and sat down (well, Phoenix had sat while Marita got the food - he seemed not to have yet grasped the concept of 'free'), Marita looked at him. "I have a story to tell. Some you might already know. But, please. What was Dr. Sawyer training you for?" When he hesitated, Marita said softly, "It's okay. Think of me... think of me as the new Dr. Sawyer."
Phoenix pushed at the food set before him with one finger. Lifting it to his mouth, he sucked the sauce he'd poked off of his fingertip. Wide eyes studied Marita, blinking slowly. "I told you I'm classified." He glanced up at the Mac 27 standing guard over them. "But then I suppose Wraith changed your clearance level along with everything else." Phoenix's attention wandered about the nearly empty room. "I'm the next generation. The new version. Dr. Sawyer says I'm perfect. They've done everything they can think of to me... I haven't broken yet." The statement came out in a rather flat tone. Phoenix's mouth tightened. Some of the tests and trials still bothered him if he thought too hard about them, so he attempted to avoid thinking about them. It was a simple solution. "Wraith and Alex Krycek need a replacement. Wraith is inflexible and Alex Krycek is beyond control. The Mac 27s are flawed. If I work out they'll duplicate me. Well, they would have... I suppose it's too late now."
Marita was staring.
The main part of the meal was picked at briefly and then ignored in favour of the raspberry that was drizzled over the cheesecake. "Wraith was deemed still too human. The Mac 27s are too artificial... but myself, I see that as more of a programming flaw than anything else. When something is mass produced it's altogether too tempting to cut corners." Phoenix's head tilted to look at their protector once more. "I was helping Dr. Sawyer write alternate programming for the Mac 27s but I doubt that project will be completed either." A sigh escaped the young man. "I would appreciate it if you didn't tell Wraith I wasn't a proper clone. Dr. Sawyer said he has some issues about artificial life-forms." His brow furrowed. "I don't want to fight with him... not if you and he are in charge now... but I don't want to be... put into storage or shut down."
Marita stared in horror for a moment, her cheesecake still on her fork, halfway to her mouth. "Put you in storage or... no, no, no. See, that's...that's what bothered me, and why I was put back in charge of Innobotics. In charge of the program that I created in the first place. You see, Dr. Sawyer... she'd always worked for me."
Marita looked down for a moment, then back up at Phoenix. "But, that was the thing. She and everyone else treated you - Mac 27s and clones - like *things*, like chattel. But, you aren't that. I made sure of that when I put a zygote from Krycek's brain into the protocol for Mac 27s. And clones...well, the clones are a moot point."
Marita looked at Phoenix again. "The tests and trials. These people were - inhuman, to do what they did. I -- I saw what they were doing and I tried to do something about it. For doing so, I -- I was taken and put through --"
Her voice hitched and she had to pause, remembering tests with the black oil, repeated rapes, beatings, and then, the final indignity, being used as a whore for the evil bastard who --
She looked up, realizing Phoenix was studying her with a mix of sympathy and concern. "They hurt you, too," he said.
"I'm sorry. I just, ah - they did things to me, too, yes."
[Boy, did they.]
"But, you're free now. No one will hurt you again. If they try to, Wraith will protect you. But - I need to know about these tests. What they did to you, what the data is. The aliens are here, and we need every defense available to us."
She looked at the Mac 27, standing awkwardly tableside. "Go tell Wraith that Phoenix and I are going -- to the labs. And that we'll be fine on our own," she added, stiffly. She was usually touched by Wraith's over-protectiveness. But it was becoming a bit much.
The Mac 27 shook his head. "I am not permitted to leave you without protection, Ms. Covarrubias. Your safety is my primary directive. I can move away a certain distance to allow you privacy, but I cannot withdraw completely."
She looked at Phoenix. "Take me there. And... we can talk, in private."
Marita had never talked about it with anyone, but for some reason she couldn't fathom, she felt like telling all to this boy - felt a connection to him somehow. She shook her head to clear the feeling, but it didn't work.
Phoenix pushed away from the table and headed for the door, mildly entertained by the Mac 27's movements. The android ran to reach the portal first and surveyed the hallway for security problems. He then pulled back to a wall, keeping his eyes purposefully away from Marita while still watching for danger. When Wraith designed a bodyguard, he didn't make mistakes... but then that had been Wraith's primary purpose for quite some time.
Marita rolled her eyes at the Mac 27, but cracked a grin as she followed Phoenix. "Thank you, kind Sir."
Then: "Do you have a name? If you're going to be tagging along, it'd be nice to know what to call you."
"I am Mac 27, Unit 852, Ms. Covarrubias." His gun snapped out in preparation for trouble along their route.
It seemed to startle Marita, but Phoenix caught at her hand to lead the way. Her fingers were remarkably cool. "The staff isn't likely to be there. The non-combatants would have retreated to security bunkers when the alarms started." Phoenix indicated the understated red lights that blinked up near the ceiling. Someone... I assume Wraith... put the entire complex on full alert. Only soldiers will be moving about. Some of Innobotics security protocols are rather... extreme." His nose wrinkled. "But then I suppose you already know that."
"Yeah," Marita said with a doleful smile. His nose was incredibly cute as it wrinkled.
Marita looked at the youth, noting yet again how slender he was, how sinewy, how dark his lashes were, as he lowered them slightly... how her throat caught at his touch.
Stop, she told himself. He can't be older than 18, 19 at best. What are you thinking?
She decided it was only her feeling that since they'd both survived the tests; that they had something in common.
[The tests? Alien virus tests?]
She knew it was so. But *how* she knew, she couldn't say. Had she seen Phoenix before?
Moving at the quickest speed Marita's clicking heels would allow, Phoenix drew her to a stairwell and down two flights. Trying to open the door to the proper level made him frown. "I had clearance yesterday. The codes have changed."
Marta smiled. "No problem." She looked directly at a small black lens on the door and said, "open." The door, which was no doubt controlled via Wraith's neural net linkup, clicked open and they walked through it.
As they walked down the corridor to the labs, Marita couldn't help but remember, and she had to fight her urge to flee. Phoenix led her through the hallways, to a room she had only ever been to once, that she could recall.
Inside, it was warm, damp, and backlit with orange-red light from an indefinable source. There was a long aisle, and on either side were big fish tanks. Inside each tank was a growing person, at various ages and development. They all appeared to be male - all clones of Alex Krycek. As she walked along, in horror, one of the clones, around five or six, did a somersault in his tank and swam over to them. He put his hand up to the glass, and Marita instinctively put her hand to his, on the other side of the glass.
Marita looked at Phoenix. "Was this where you, ah, grew up?" she asked stupidly, knowing that it was.
"Not really. My internal framework is artificial, Mac 27 based. I did have to spend some time in one to grow muscle and skin over my framework." Phoenix laid his own hand over top of Marita's.
When Phoenix touched her, Marita felt... not electrified, but, something. A life force. A strengthening of energy. A bond.
It was jarring, but pleasantly so. Marita felt a sense of calm, and well being. She smiled at Phoenix a little uncertainly.
"Time in the tanks might actually do you good. "
She said to Phoenix, "Me? In the tanks? Or was that a generic 'you'?"
Marita looked back at the clone. As if in answer to her query, she felt a sensation of warmth, liquid, floating... knowing and seeing, but being safe, being loved, nurtured... always nourished...Safety. Warmth. Comfort.
"Dr. Sawyer figured out a way to barrier out the black oil with internal membranes. It took a while...a lot of tries... but I'm immune to black oil now. I could install the membranes in you. Wraith's got them but they're imperfect. Dr. Sawyer wasn't able to test him properly. Mr. Hargreaves didn't want Wraith exposed to the black oil... just in case he was ruined."
Marita was tempted to say yes right then, but an inner voice reminded her she scarcely knew the boy. She looked into his green eyes.
"It's not so bad..." Phoenix looked over her shoulder. "... being in the tanks. It's calming. All they have to do is grow, absorb knowledge, and think. It's rather soothing." Shifting slightly Phoenix tapped on the glass to catch the clone's attention. Their eyes met and held. The undeveloped creature's head tilted and a burble of air escaped it.
"He likes your hair... the way it shines."
Marita smiled. "He's adorable," she said, moving her hand along the tank. The clone laughed and tracked it, dragging his palm, too.
Phoenix's hand pulled Marita's off the glass, clasping it. "You're warmer than Dr. Sawyer. Your skin is softer too." He turned her palm up. The hand he held trembled, her whole body was shivering slightly. "Is there something wrong, Marita? I'm sorry. Perhaps coming here was a mistake."
As he held her hand, the sensation flowed through her again - calm, stability, love. She smiled at him.
"No. Nothing's wrong, it's just..."
Suddenly something occurred to him, and she thought to him, ~You can read my mind, can't you? ~
His head shook, dark hair falling in his eyes. "Not very well." Phoenix had to catch her gaze, stare straight into Marita's eyes or make physical contact to manage even a tenuous connection. "I do better with the clones, like this little one, or hybrids. Dr. Sawyer credits a subject named Gibson Praise." A smile flitted across his lips only to vanish a second later. "I can do the Mac 27s, but only if I consciously attempt it. I've layers of barriers up so I can't be identified as artificial... so I don't give off electronic signals like they do."
She felt drawn to him again, wondering why. Flashes of scenes from her past imprisonment and torture, 'reeducation', flashed through her mind. Rape...electric shock... CSM... light...
Phoenix winced, forehead wrinkling up. He was especially sympathetic about the electrical torments. They had been the hardest for him to deal with. It seemed fair to return her sign of trust. Phoenix offered up his absolute terror of tasers.
Being in a tank. Being... indoctrinated. Trying to resist, being punished for it.
The visions were blending, making it harder to tell whose thoughts belonged to which of them. Humans weren't made for this at the best of times and Marita was an absolute novice at the sharing. Phoenix had to be careful not to damage her delicate thought strands.
Reaching up to stroke her face and hair seemed to settle the woman, helping her to remain inside her own mind.
Above all this though was a feeling of love, and concern.
Marita looked at Phoenix, and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm a bad person, aren't I?" she said. "What I've done... I tried to get out, but..."
"Consider something, Marita. Dr. Sawyer told me you were 'bad'. She said you were a bad influence on Wraith. She was, in one way, proven correct. You intended to torture her and allowed Wraith to kill her. You did this because you thought Dr. Sawyer was bad."
Marita nodded, considering. "I used to be... I was in charge of the cloning projects, at one point, as well as the Mac 27s. I was so sure that what we - what *I* - was doing was right. The idea was to create a race of humans, and nonhumans, that could survive anything - alien invasion, a nuclear blast...anything. All we cared about at the time was their efficacy. We didn't care... or we just assumed it didn't matter, that they liked it, that that was all they knew and ignorance truly was bliss. Of course... I knew I was only trying to justify our actions."
"So, I decided that what we, Dr. Sawyer being part of 'we', were doing was bad, because as I worked with the clones and Macs, I realized that they - that *you* - are as human as I or Fox Mulder or Alex Krycek."
She closed her eyes for a moment at the thought of Alex.
"But I -- I worked on the project for so long - did so much - I think I might be irrevocably bad. How can I atone for all I've done? I've betrayed people, been responsible for deaths..."
Phoenix's thumb drew a line down her small nose. "The problem is 'bad' is a rather subjective term. It's too imprecise to be useful in most situations. Everyone uses it different ways. Even the dictionary definitions of the word vary greatly. Point of view is everything." His head tilted and a smile ghosted at the edge of Phoenix's lips. "You're complicated. I like you. I still wish you and Wraith hadn't seen fit to kill Dr. Sawyer, but I think I understand your reasoning that she was 'bad' just as I understood hers."
Marita smiled. "You're smarter than most eighty year olds," she said. "Just like Gibson... you all are wise beyond your years. Why do I find that sad?" She paused. "I knew Gibson... he helped me come to realize... how I could try to sabotage and stop the project. Where is he, do you know? Is he here?"
"I've never met Gibson Praise." Phoenix's head shook, a restrained movement. "He just supplied some of my source material. Dr Sawyer's records indicate the sample was harvested some time ago." Looking straight into Marita's eyes was a task. She tried to duck her head but Phoenix caught her chin. "Don't be too sad over things past, Marita. It's a waste. The future is where you will make a difference
Never met... Gibson..." Marita tried to process this. Gibson wasn't a syndicate creation - they hadn't known about him, and that's why --
Something was niggling at Marita, warning her that as much as she thought Phoenix naive and innocent, he was anything but...
Damned if she could figure out what it was, though.
Again, her throat caught. This boy - young man - seemed to understand her so well, and she felt so safe, comfortable around him. When he embraced her, she had felt...[whole]... like maybe she wasn't all bad, like maybe, just maybe, she could become good...
She stroked his cheek, and smoothed some of his hair back from his face, thinking he looked like Krycek had when CSM had tried to blow him up in the car... same length of hair. Hair that she used to stroke as they lay in bed, the sound of his breathing, his hands on her, his mouth...
Phoenix thought it was strange that all the people making decisions about his appearance had insisted that his hair be long... and yet those same people were forever brushing it back. Dr. Sawyer and a few of the elders were especially fond of playing with his hair, as well as other parts of his body. Then again the senior staff were all rather odd men.
Unconsciously, her lips parted, and she gasped slightly. Inclining her head, she stroked his face, his neck...
Phoenix sighed. "You're thinking of kissing me. I fear Wraith will hurt me if you do. He is human enough to be territorial and unstable enough that he will over-react."
Marita blinked. What had she been about to do? But God, she wanted him...she felt like he and she had been lovers, or good friends... somewhere, sometime... it almost scared her. She'd never felt this way before. "How will he know?" she heard herself asking, huskily. "Besides, Wraith - see, Wraith worships me more than he loves me. I'm sure that if I told him not to harm you, he wouldn't. I've already - I've already made it clear to him, or tried to, that he's to protect you. He... he knows that... you were hurt..."
"Wraith is in an awkward situation. He's designed to take orders, not give them. He is attempting to compensate for his discomfort with the position he's been backed into taking by gearing his every action toward protecting you, Marita."
"The position he's been 'backed into'?" Marita said, staring at Phoenix. "What ..."
Phoenix's expression darkened slightly. "I suspect I could disable him if I had to, if I moved without warning, but Wraith hacked the system. He has my shut down protocols somewhere in his head now. It's just a matter of Wraith taking the time to look for the right file within a file to find my specs... my entire schematic. I'm surprised he hasn't found it already. He's distracted. Not that I blame him." The shy smile returned. "You distract me. It's part of my legacy from my donors, I suppose."
Something was very wrong here, and Marita tried hard to overlook that shy smile she loved so well... something, something.
She pulled him to her again, looking into his eyes intently. "I know you," she insisted. "But ... from where? Why am I feeling this way, Phoenix? I don't understand."
"Not me, just someone who looks like me. Someone who contributed to my DNA. I was never under your jurisdiction." Phoenix's head shook. "I've seen your file Marita. It was a mistake to have you work on the clone and Mac 27 projects. Your affection for Alex Krycek, Loren Faber and for those who share this face was a clear weakness. Dr. Sawyer complained about it more than once."
Feeling somewhat sheepish, she added, "How old *are* you, anyway?"
"If I told you, it would upset you." Phoenix took a step backward, his hand smoothing up the underside of her arm and wrist as he moved. When only the tips of their fingers remained in contact, Phoenix lifted the delicate digits and touched them to his lips. His mouth opened just enough to allow his tongue to brush her fingertips. Marita tasted nothing like Dr. Sawyer. "Or perhaps you would cringe away in horror. I wouldn't want either of those things to occur." Her hand was turned over and a kiss brushed over her wrist." All during the light physical contact, Phoenix kept his gaze locked to Marita's.
"What - what do you want?" Marita said, hoping to find out what was causing her alarm
"You have to make it clear to Wraith that anything we might do together is as you wish it. Right now all he has to keep his system from overloading is a desire to protect you. Until another purpose or controller presents itself you could tell him to dismantle himself and he'd do it with only the slightest hesitation." Phoenix ran a caress up her arm. "The other side of that situation is that if his allegiance changes by some feat of reason or persuasion. Wraith could hand over the sum total of Innobotics research and martial power. You should probably keep him under your control, Marita, or reassign it to someone you can trust." Phoenix's brow furrowed. "I could take it if the responsibility bothers you. You could tell him you want him to accept orders from me."
That was true... Marita did need Wraith's allegiance, even if she was assured of Loren's. She nodded slightly.
Then, she said, "I think I'm doing fine, so far. Let's ... I think I should go to him now," she said stiffly. "He'll be wanting --"
Just then she heard an alarm sound from somewhere...
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