The Game 51
Edited by Karen Leigh
Hobbes was going to be his partner, was going to have Wraith's back. Partners were not to be hurt no matter what. Tom would have to wait.
Continuing to press his tongue further inside, pressing at resisting muscle, Wraith used blunt fingernails on one hand to trace over Hobbes' sensitive balls and up the underside of his erection. He didn't dare inflict any pressure so his touches had to stay light. Wraith tickled his fingers over the head of Tom's cock, encouraging it to leak and provide more natural lubricate.
The sounds coming out of Hobbes were hard to catalogue. If Wraith didn't know any better he'd suspect the soldier was in pain but that wasn't likely. Wraith was doing his very best to insure Tom was open and ready.
Wraith's face pulled back briefly and a single sticky finger attempted to slip into now open bud. The taste in his mouth wasn't quite right, although what Wraith was using as a reference he couldn't recall right at this moment. Covering Hobbes' bent over body with his own, Wraith brushed his mouth near Tom's ear. "Have you ever done this before?"
Nonsensical groans were the first response. Wraith dared a second finger, pressing and twisting until Hobbes spasmed once. Hitting the man's prostate would relax him in some ways even as it tensed him up in others.
"Alex and I..."
The half-strangled words caught Wraith off guard. He'd given up on receiving an answer. Still, Wraith's free hand was up and slapped over Hobbes' mouth before any more of the sentence could emerge. "No." The denial was all encompassing. Couldn't he have one damned thing that the double-dealing rogue of an operative hadn't used and ruined first?
Annoyance pushed Wraith do skirt the edges of something he had been so careful to avoid only moments before. His fingers pulled out of Hobbes without warning, cheeks were pushed apart and Wraith slammed in without any further preparation. His arm was now free to hood around Tom and pull the blond almost upright against him. Wraith's teeth snapped at one earlobe. "YOU were supposed to be MINE."
Hobbes wouldn't be able to respond with anything but grunts and moans. Wraith's hand continued to gag him.
Tom's hands slapped down on the counter for support, trying to breath as well. It was so hard with a hand over his mouth. He also wanted to scream when Wraith slammed into him, but it had felt so... so good. So hard and wild, animal in nature.
He reached up with one hand, his body responding to every touch that he found himself moaning wildly to it. He tried to pull the hand away from his mouth. Tom needed to breathe, a murmur came from him, a pleading one as his hips shoved back with every thrust. They were begging for more, "Please," he finally was able to get out.
Oh God it felt so hard and nasty, causing his own cock twitched, "I'm yours," he moaned. He tried to shove Wraith's hand down to stroke him, "I need you to touch me," he whimpered, "I need you harder, make me feel it, make me yours."
He reached up with one hand, his body responding to every touch that he found himself moaning wildly to it. He tried to pull the hand away from his mouth. Tom needed to breathe, a murmur came from him, a pleading one as his hips shoved back with every thrust. They were begging for more, "Please," he finally was able to get out. Oh God it felt so hard and nasty, causing his own cock twitched, "I'm yours," he moaned. He tried to shove Wraith's hand down to stroke him, "I need you to touch me," he whimpered, "I need you harder, make me feel it, make me yours."
The submission in Tom's actions and tone were enough to take the sharpest edge of anger off of Wraith's movements. He continued on at the same pace, if not an even more punishing thrust, but the brutally that Wraith felt the need to inflict eased slightly. The arm that curved around Hobbes' waist lowered and Wraith wrapped his fingers around Tom's stiff flesh. He no longer felt the need to muffle the other man's speech either. The hand that had been covering Tom's mouth drifted down an arched throat.
Holding a flame might have been easier is some ways, Wraith concluded. Hobbes squirmed, rocking back willingly into each slam of Wraith's hips. The lean body was also arched slightly, his blond pushed against Wraith's collarbone.
He should bend Hobbes forward once more, if he'd been a normal man, he would have. As it was Wraith was certain that he was supporting both of them. The way Tom was shivering, his legs must have given out. The power in reducing Hobbes to this pleading, desperate creature sent adrenaline rushing through Wraith.
"Mine." The word was a barely breathed whisper but Wraith couldn't help repeating it over and over with each slide of cock deep into the other's body. "Mine." This wasn't like having Marita. That had been an act of worship; this was visceral pleasure so pure it felt like things were shorting out inside his skull.
Damn, he'd have to check his uplinks to Innobotics when this was over. Something had to be frying somewhere. As wonderful as fucking Hobbes felt, the encounter couldn't be drawn out. It was too intense a sensation to maintain. Wraith picked up his pace, his palm and fingers were demanding on Tom's erection. It was absolutely imperative that Hobbes orgasm first.
With every thrust, air rushed out of Tom and then was sucked back in. Both hands slapped down on the counter while he turned his head finding the curve of Wraith's neck to him. He kissed it, licked it, nipped at the jaw line the best he could. Fuck, this man's skin tasted a bit salty but good. Everything about this man was good. The way Wraith touched him, kissed him... though the two men looked alike, Tom knew, he would tell the difference between the two and he liked this.
The word, Wraith breathed with every thrust, echoed in Tom's head, 'Mine.' It was a possessive word, one of greed and want... and Tom didn't care. Wraith was doing him up right, Tom, at this point, didn't want anyone else touching him. "Oh fuck.... so... good... great.... oh yesss." he moaned and then he felt it.
It started at his spine and shot up burning all thoughts, all his reasonable speech. It ignited very nerve in his body and he nearly screamed as he grunted, his body quaking as he felt his release start. He sprayed out into Wraith's hand feeling his own cum becoming the slick as the other man's hand that was still pumping him slid easier. Tom almost sagged, as his body was no longer his.
The moment Tom went nearly limp in his grip an amazing sense of triumph flooded through Wraith. His claim of ownership was proven as far as Hobbes seemed concerned and Wraith now only had his own satisfaction to indulge. Still holding the other's body to him, Wraith's pounding hip movement speeded up. Eyes closed and mouth open, he breathed shallowly into short, pale hair.
Little noise accompanied Wraith's orgasm, not within the confines of the laboratory, but Wraith distantly realized alarms were going off around the compound as security systems responded to an internal overload and several computer controlled systems surged to life at random. Wraith tasted coppery, liquid salt. His teeth had cut skin behind Tom's ear. The wounds were shallow but long.
Wraith's breath came in harsh pants. He clutched the body shivering in his arms even tighter to his chest. Wraith's tongue flicked, lapping along the tears he'd inflicted. His hand slowly released Tom's softening cock to smooth up Hobbes' stomach and chest, heedless of the sticky line he was drawing.
"Never leave me. You're mine." The lick morphed into a kiss. Alarms were pulling insistently at the corner of Wraith's attention but he regretted having to release Tom from his tight grip.
Alarms beckoned to Hobbes, something was happening and it was more than this magical moment he was feeling. His body whimpered at the release from Wraith's arms and he tried to catch his breath. "What... what's happening?" He asked looking about.
He quickly reached for his clothing or shall he say the clothing he borrowed from Mulder; that was way too big for him. He pulled them on quickly noting some of the buttons on the shirt were missing. First chance he got, he was looking for clothing in his size. He was pulling his boots on when he stood up and glanced at Wraith, "Why are the alarms going off? Are we under attack?"
"Yes... and for other reasons too." Wraith digitally reached out and tapped down some of the circuits he'd set off accidentally. Standing beside Tom, Wraith couldn't resist brushing a quick touch over golden hair before straightening out. "I need to get Marita to a more secure location." His eyes closed a moment seeking out the location of the Mac 27 he'd designated as her bodyguard. "That boy has taken her down to the labs. I suppose there could be worse places. It's a fairly secure location."
Wraith had far fewer things to tuck away and fasten.
"Major security protocols have been activated." Walking into the next room, Wraith crouched down by Dr. Sawyer's sagging body. Touching the signal band on her wrist and sending a pulse through it released the device. Hanging around her neck on a chain, under her lab coat, was a key card. Wraith took both back to Hobbes.
"Stay close by my side." The ID was looped over Tom's neck and the band wrapped around his wrist and sealed. "Let's go to the labs."
Hobbes looked at the items Wraith had given him and then ran slightly to keep up with him. Once he fell into the same pace he looked around. "Can you tell who is attacking?" He asked but the look on Wraith's face told him now was not the time to be asking.
He glanced about following, wishing at this point he had a gun. "We need weapons too," he suggested. He wondered who was attacking, was it the Aliens, some unknown force. Was it the people of this complex even, knowing Wraith had taken over. He sighed, fearing the unknown. It never really mattered to Pinocchio, to that man, everyone was an enemy but those close to him.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Phoenix's head tipped to one side. "The compound has been breached." He picked out one of the sounds. "There's a fire alarm in there somewhere too... no, it's stopped." Turning, Phoenix headed toward a computer terminal on one of the walls. He frowned down at the keyboard before cautiously reaching out.
"What a mess." His dark head shook making long hair fall into his eyes. "Everything is locking down. Top security levels. I suppose we should..." Phoenix sighed. "Taking you to the bunkers wouldn't make much sense, would it? We should just sit tight. Wraith will come after you."
"Well, if the security system has been breached, who says we can?" Marita asked, a bit testily. She thought for a moment...
[The bunkers... this beautiful boy... God, I want him...]
She resisted the urge to pull him to her, to kiss him, to...
STOP.
His fingers tapped out a few commands, which were swiftly uploaded. The screen filled with boxes that vanished a moment later.
"What are you doing?" Marita asked, walking towards him swiftly, but too late to catch what he had written.
Lights in the laboratory dimmed briefly before surging back up to full power. "Can you use your pass codes to seal the doors, Marita? It looks like the trouble may be closer than I thought."
Marita looked at him. "How do I know I can trust you? At this point, I'm sorry, but I suddenly feel very nervous... can you do anything to remedy that?"
She looked over at the Mac 27, who had kept a respectful distance. "Can you contact Wraith, please? Ask him what's going on... and what he's learned about Phoenix."
Walking towards Phoenix, she said, "I want to trust you. I want to... well, you know what I want. Dr. Sawyer once gave me a boy who looked much like you... his name was..."
Just then the lights flickered again, and there was a crash.
She looked at Phoenix in alarm, and then said, clearly, "Security - shut down the lab doors immediately. Grant access to the system only to Wraith or myself."
As the doors closed and clicked locked, she moved her head, kissing Phoenix's cheek, his neck. "I promise... to keep you safe... and... never...let anyone hurt you. Just... join me and Loren..."
She began trailing a line of kisses along his jaw, and down his neck.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
9021 knocked on the door of Skip's office.
He had been considering doing this for sometime now. He had run extensive self-diagnostics several times over, and it seemed to him that the repairs that One had made, (indeed, entire replacements of many parts of him), had been entirely successful. He did not suffer the burden of the memory of having 'died' in the aftermath of the van crushing his body; One had given him a clean mind, a blank slate, leaving him only with a distant hazy awareness of what had happened, with certain files accessible should he need to access them.
It was no longer enough to be thanked for his part in the past, for having helped in the liberation of his brothers. 9021 wanted to contribute.
But having been aware of the exchanges between One and David and Sypher that had been broadcast in part by those involved, and many of the other paired couples of Macs and clones present here at the compound, 9021 was suddenly overwhelmed with the certainty that he could be far more helpful if he were not merely a 900 series model.
He wanted to be just as capable of experiencing "feelings" and bonding with others, too. Indeed, in every way: physically, emotionally... even mentally, although he was sure that his present level of mental connection with all of his brothers would suffice, even if his request was turned down.
One was busy in the field; 9021 had thought it would be improper to approach One before he left for Innobotics anyway, considering that he'd been so busy.
He could only hope that Skip might be able to help him.
"Well now, which of them was this critter?" Skip wondered, peering around Mac Smith who was straddling him for some real close communication.
"Mac 27 number 9021," Mac Smith answered, before returning to nuzzling Skip's ear.
"Hey there, you're the one that saved my beautiful and talented lover!" Skip said. Mac Smith scooted off his lap to perch on the edge of his desk.
"Have a chocolate cigar," Skip said, flipping on a little Pink Floyd for atmosphere. You couldn't sing it or dance to it, but damn that was music!
Taking one of the substitutes for the Havana cigars that used to sit in the same place, Skip leered at Mac Smith and said, "You want to play White House intern again?"
"Later," Mac Smith scolded, "9021 must have a reason for coming here."
Doing his best Foghorn Leghorn Chicken imitation, Skip spluttered, "Well, I say, young android, just spit it right out now."
Spit? Spit what out? 9021 considered Skip's suggestion and decided he really ought to ignore it, seeing as it made no sense whatsoever.
Respectfully, he said, "I am a 900 series model, and I wish to be augmented. I want to have the capacity for feelings, for physical expression, for interaction with other beings. On the emotional and physical levels."
He wondered if it was really an extraordinary request. "Sure there must exist the capability to re-equip me within this compound?"
Skip nodded and said, "Ah, yeah, I know just the fellow? Here, now, let me get his ass up here so he can refit you."
Picking up the phone, Skip bellowed, "Sanchez, get your skinny ass up here. We all have a technical question for you about a certain Mac."
Shortly Sanchez showed up with the Mac 27s that he had named Scotty, Spock, and McCoy. Skip pointed at 9021 and said, "He needs a retrofit. Wants to be fully functional."
The three Mac 27s put their heads together with their human mentor and argued. And argued. Went to examine 9021 again and conferred again.
"Gonna take a damn near total rebuild, but we have the parts. You know there's a lot of biotechnology in the advanced models. So it won't be easy," Jerry Sanchez said.
McCoy said, "This won't hurt a bit." He mumbled under his breath, "Not me leastwise."
Spock nodded and said, "Human emotions are so untidy, but there are enjoyable sensations..."
"Aye," Scotty agreed with a smug look at Jerry Sanchez, "very agreeable, come along, Brother, we can rebuild you."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Cold, so cold, and when he glanced around like a rabbit stumbling before the coyote's swift doom, she was there. Plump brown cheeks, big doe eyes, tears running down her face that had not yet entirely yielded the sweet curve of childhood confronted of him. There was no way back, no rewind, no undo.
Father forgive me...kneeling in the confessional, father forgive me, because I can never forgive myself.
As soon as he was released from detention, he meant to check on her. Sgt. Marshak had disappeared, taking whatever memories he had with him. Lloyd had at first believed Steve when he said nothing had happened. Then during the time up in Canada, Lloyd had been so afraid. It wasn't supposed to be like this, not to him, not to the Golden Boy. The world's your oyster, son...track star, basketball star, Homecoming King, most popular, that was who Lloyd Hillard was.
All Lloyd could remember was, at some point, she had cried, she had cried like a child cries and he could not, could never get it out of his ears. He covered his ears to block the sound out and ran almost blindly away. His shoulder thudded into a wall and he keened in terror. He was naked, shoeless and the gravel tore at his feet. He saw grass and left the path to feel its long wet fronds brush his ankles.
A bluish gray apparition caught at him as he tripped and fell. Whining, he crouched, trembling in fear, spreading himself, bracing against the insect-like strength of the alien, smaller than him and frail in appearance, but so strong. It had taken a few weeks before Lloyd learned to obey the instant the creature signaled, but pain was a good teacher and after all, Lloyd had been a good student. He deserved it. Perhaps he had died and this was the hell that was meted to him...
The familiar weight did not settle on him. No cold and carapace-surfaced probe came to violate him. After a moment, Lloyd realized that the alien was only in his mind. He lurched to his feet and ran again. He felt as if the alien still watched him, huge hexed eyes absorbing his pathetic attempts to get away.
Lloyd saw some people in the distance and for a moment he was human enough to be ashamed of his nudity. Then he saw that they all save one wore his face and he ran again, thinking that DarkCyan008 was toying with him, sending the shape-shifters after him. He stumbled into a door and clawed at the knob. It opened and he entered the building, wandering lost into the sterile gray walls...
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Ricky grabbed his arm and said, "What the hell was that? I saw someone running...it looked like a Mac 27 or maybe another human clone. He was naked.
You with us, One? You seemed a bit out of it?"
"I...I was talking to Sypher. I'm finished. I thought we would use the underground passage beneath the buildings Baines wrecked. I know they're short of personnel. There are a lot of them out hunting stray Mac 27s."
Ricky brushed his hair back and said, "But after we get in? What do we do?"
One said, "Create a diversion. I sensed sleeping Mac 27s hidden above ground, but the main body seems to be hidden deep in the Earth. Jess will try to go deep and find them. Her werewolf senses make her the person best equipped to find Pendrell and his Mac 27s. I think he holds the key to waking the sleeping Mac 27s."
Units 67 and 68 stepped forward, one on each side of One. When One moved, so did they. When he halted, they stopped as well, eyes rapidly scanning the surrounding area.
In response to One's raised eyebrow, Unit 68 said, "We have received additional programming and are to implement it and accompany you."
"Luke said so," Unit 67 added, expression serious. We are ..."
Unit 68 concluded the statement. "Your secret service."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Scully sighed and pocketed the phone. Turning to the gurney that had the unconscious AD on it, she observed his color and his breathing. He was still out, but she thought Skinner was going to be all right.
No doubt his temporary bout with possession would leave him feeling a little strange, but she was sure that he would recover.
She felt a moment's wistful chagrin that she couldn't crawl back into a bed somewhere with Beau and Matthew - it had been a long time since she had felt that free and unrestrained, exploratory without being nervous about the implications for the future.
As for the implants; she wasn't at all sure if she felt comfortable taking on the responsibility of removing chips for people, considering the possible consequences. Still, they had been warned, and until they could find a way of determining for sure which implants were which, and implanted by whom, it was up to them to decide whether or not they wanted her assistance in removing them.
Meanwhile, there was a nest of 'vampires' they had to deal with. Scully was willing to bet that they were in actuality a group of disturbed cultists engaged in some kind of neo-pagan Satan worship, but they still needed to be taken care of. Anyone who managed to take out the CSM were not to be taken lightly.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Innobotics seemed strangely quiet, but alarms rang someplace. Ricky reacted by ducking into a laboratory. His little force consisting of Dennis, who seemed to be increasingly alert, maybe he was starting to deal with the strange world into which he had been drawn and Romeo and Jules who had detailed themselves to help Ricky while the others had gone with One.
Smiling at Dennis, Ricky said, "Romeo, Jules, you look on that side of the hallway while Dennis and I search the rooms on this side."
Romeo was not a very obedient Mac 27. He was very independent. He asked, "Are you sure? Maybe we should stay together."
"Hey, we gotta cover a lot of territory in a short time," Ricky explained. "It seems quiet enough."
The first room that Ricky entered had vats of things...they were not quite like normal fetuses. They were big enough to be five or more months along in development, but were strangely unformed. The heads were even bigger than normal...Ricky had to investigate an abortion clinic sabotage and ended up vomiting because of the display the terrorists had left in the lobby. However, as a result, he did know what a normal fetus of four months looked like though.
These things had no arms, no legs, and the torso ended in a long tube that appeared to enclose the spinal cord. The body was an afterthought anyway in comparison to the skull. However, the brains of the things were less than an adult human's side. Huge eyes, green eyes opened when he passed. So this was what was inside the Mac 27s? Ricky was glad that all he could see was versions of his own pretty face.
Ricky left the fetuses alone. Maybe he should have destroyed them, but he didn't think that they had to live terrible lives as Mac 27s. Let someone else make that decision.
Hugging the wall, Ricky inched along the corridor. Hearing a commotion he pulled open a door and jerked Dennis in after him.
There was one brief vision of a bald man attended by two larger than usual Mac 27s. Ricky felt a sting at his neck and cursed. Dennis almost got away, but one of the androids grabbed him at the last minute. Ricky fell dizzily to the floor.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Sounds. He could hear sounds. He didn't want to hear anything - he just wanted to sink back into that comforting darkness in which he'd been floating for so long. Sounds meant he was awake. Awake meant he had to face what he'd done to Denise.
Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Skinner concentrated on nothing. No sound, no memories - just blessed blankness.
It didn't work. With a protesting groan, he opened his eyes and looked around. Saw a vaguely familiar figure. "Scully?" he croaked.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Waking Ricky found himself for a moment looking out of Walter's eyes. He felt a warm, rich feeling as if his lover...former lover was embracing him. He held onto the weird connection as he realized that he very cold. He was naked, lying on his stomach in an odd position. The scientist was washing him with alcohol.
"Pretty boy. I guess you must be one of the reserved stock that Spender ordered placed in the population. Very forward thinking. I think we are ready for some new stock. This won't hurt much..."
Oh Jesus! It did hurt. The scientist was jabbing a huge needle right into his spine. Ricky screamed and his mind feeling Walter still connected to him, projected, "Walter, oh God, come and get me. Come and get me, please. I need you! I need you,"
Ricky could see Denise was on another of the strange beds. He was being hurt yet, but a Mac 27 was shaving his back in preparation for the operation. He wanted to protect him. He was afraid that the man was too frail to bear more of the horrors of this world. He felt as if some cruel God was playing with his life.
Before Scully could reach his side, Skinner gasped. "Ricky?" He asked. What? Shit! Someone was hurting Ricky. As clearly as if his former lover was in the room with him, Skinner heard that familiar voice call out for him.
Weakly, he pushed himself to a sitting position and tossed the blanket off.
"Scully, help me. Have to go - help Ricky."
Scully was next to him, in a trice. "Sir, be careful! You've been unconscious... You're in no condition to go anywhere. I think Ricky is at Innobotics and there's already a group that have left the Compound to go there. They can help him."
She wondered about his electrolyte balance and dehydration, but realized it was unlikely that he was going to cooperate. Still, his eyes didn't appear unnaturally dilated and his pulse was strong.
"Sir? Whatever it is you need to tell us about Ricky, we can relay to Mulder and the others. They're already on the way, and will be there soon."
Scully - reasoning with yet another patient who doesn't know what's best for them
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
John Doggett made his way though the basement to the office he was now to share with Agent Scully and Agent Mulder. He pushed open the door and saw that, as usual of late, the office was empty. He didn't remember them being assigned a case.
He walked over and threw his coat over a chair, looking through the mail taking out his and seeing the stacks of files piling up. No one had been in for a while it seemed, not even Agent Scully who was the one who kept up with Mulder's paper work. He frowned when he also noticed all the messages left on the machine. He looked around as if expecting the office to tell him or give him an answer.
He reached down and the first number that popped in his head... as always, was Agent Scully's. He dialed it then heard it ringing. He waited for her to answer as he picked through the paper work.
When she answered he spoke, "Agent Scully, this is Agent Doggett. Where have you been? I've been kind of worried here. Paperwork is starting to pile up and so are some cases. So tell me... what's up?"
Scully quickly took out her phone. Not wanting Skinner to get up and leave while she talked, she watched Skinner carefully as she replied, "Um, Agent Doggett. Hi. A situation of sorts has developed. It's - a little difficult to explain over the phone. Mulder and I are here on what is ostensibly an X-File, although I don't think one has been officially opened on it yet. But AD Skinner is here with us. We could use your help, actually. I'm not sure exactly how, yet, but I could fill you in. If you want me to give you directions on how to get here, I can. But I would caution you against judging by appearances when you arrive."
Scully was wondering how Doggett would react to the numerous Krycek look-a-likes. And a sudden qualm rushed over her - these people, the clones and the androids - they had a sort of strange hormonal/pheromonal hold on ordinary people's senses... as well as each other's. She couldn't identify her misgiving as anything but worry that Doggett would succumb to one or more of them upon his arrival. She debated the wisdom of bringing him here into the fray, into their very stronghold. She herself had...
Suddenly she discovered she was swallowing and her heart was beating faster and the hand gripping her phone was trembling and slick. The memory of Beau...and Matthew watching...She forced herself to listen to what Doggett was saying.
Doggett frowned looking at the phone. Why didn't they call him before? He shrugged it off for now, bring that question up later. He was already reaching for a pad of paper and a pen. "Okay, talk to me then." He listened as she gave him directions, hearing a slight tone change in her voice.
His brow furrowed as he listened and scribbling the directions down. "Can you tell me what is going on?" He asked straightening up as he reached for his coat.
"No... not over the phone, it is best in person. And I stress again, don't judge by appearances," Scully warned.
John nodded as if she could see him, "All right Agent Scully. Tell A.D. Skinner I'm on the way." he hung up his phone and went out to his GMC truck, driving to the location. His mind was working, wondering what could be up. He hoped it wasn't more of Mulder's Aliens again. He was still having a hard time swallowing that... a very hard time. And though he seen the virus... this black oil... was it really what Mulder said it was or some undiscovered... thing on Earth?
He shook his head as he reached the location Scully had given him and slowly climbed out heading in the direction of the building. He looked about not believing what he was seeing.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Doggett shivered at the fact that there were so many Krycek look-a-likes running around. He stopped one forcefully. "Where are Agent Scully and A.D. Skinner?" he half demanded.
The unit looked at him then tilted it's head as if receiving information, "Infirmary, I will take you." It led him to the area, under heavy guard and showed him to the room. It motioned him in then stood guard with the other.
Doggett walked in, "Agent Scully, Mr. Skinner, would one of you like to tell me just what is going on here. Am I seeing way to many Kryceks running loose or has the guy finally gotten to me?" he asked placing hands on hips as he stared down at the two agents waiting for a response.
Scully turned to him with a sigh. "I know, it's - it takes some getting used to." That wasn't even the half of it, either, she thought. "AD Skinner needs to remain here and as you can see he's still a little out of it. Maybe you can help me with him." Understatement of the year; if Skinner decided to leave, there was little she could do to stop the man.
"They aren't all Krycek - and no, you're not seeing things. There are clones and androids, just to complicate things. Some of them happen to be androids, called Mac 27s. They were apparently created to combat the alien menace." She nodded at his upraised brows at this statement. "It sounds...crazy. Look, I can't understand it either. All I know is that the clones were created from an original man, who happens to be here too. As it turns out, we are here with a congregation of them. They all felt the same pull, to join up here. Maybe it's something to do with safety in numbers. I haven't been able to have a proper conversation with Mulder though, since we arrived. We've been...distracted." There was no other polite way to say it, really.
John lowered his head slightly but still looking at Scully as she spoke. His blue eyes traveled from his boss to his partner and then back again. He closed the distance between them and sat down beside Scully. This was just too... too much. "Alien menace... clones... sounds like something out of a science fiction book." He saw the look she gave him. "Okay, I'll go with it here. So someone created them from... Krycek obviously. They built them to combat the alien menace but... something is up right? Not quite acting the way they thought they would. And you haven't gotten Agent Mulder's take on this. I say we find him and... Where is he by the way?" He glanced around figuring the man would be close by.
He frowned then turned back to Scully, "What do you mean distracted?" He noticed the blush come across her cheeks and he leaned over to her. His head turned to Skinner seeing the man look away as well. Doggett turned his attention back to his partner, "Care to elaborate for me Agent Scully?" he asked softly.
Dana couldn't quite account for her sudden prudish reaction to having to explain the situation to Agent Doggett. She cleared her throat and began, "Well, it would appear that Mulder is just as- as susceptible to the pheromonal allure of the clones and androids as they are to each other. He's apparently bonded with Alex Krycek." She stopped at this, feeling a simultaneous rush of protective possessiveness about Mulder's relationship with Krycek, as well as an odd shame at having succumbed herself to the charms of Matthew and Beau. She knew Doggett would never understand.
Doggett frowned, "Pheromonal lure... all of them have this?" He saw her nod. "Mulder has bonded to his mortal enemy... the man that has deceived him every chance he's gotten... nearly tried to kill us all... Great." He said sitting back. "So where did the two love birds run off to?"
She quickly continued, "They've gone with a group to Innobotics, and the leader of the Macs, One, is already there. We also have a situation with various people here who have implants. I have to stay here; not only are we short of medical staff but some will want to have their chips removed and its not exactly an easy surgical operation."
She indicated the AD, "Skinner needs to rest. Can you help me get him to lay back down?"
Macs, Innobotics, implants, Doggett shock his head with slight confusion but figured it best to just hold his questions back for now. He stood up and paced over to Skinner, looking down at him, "Agent Scully thinks it's best you get some rest Assistant Director." His blue eyes scanned the man, "I think it is best too. Personally, sir, you look like hell. Agent Scully and I can deal with the problem for a while." He glanced back at Scully over his shoulder before turning back to Skinner.
By sheer dint of will, Skinner slid forward off of the bed. The room tilted alarmingly, and he grabbed on to Doggett's shoulders. "I think I might...need some help," he admitted reluctantly when his legs threatened to collapse under him.
Doggett caught Skinner. His boss was determined. He glanced back at Scully as he supported the man against him. "I don't think he wants to give up on this, Agent Scully." He turned his attention back to Skinner, "Sir, please think this over, you aren't going to do anyone any good in this condition." He pushed the man back against the bed. "You need to recover."
After making sure the man was stable he turned slightly to Scully, "Maybe you and I should go. Find the two." he said. He was still confused at what was going on but maybe it was best he and Scully leave. Then he could get more details out of her. He knew she told him she was needed here but from what he could see... not at the moment. "We can return if you are really needed. "Sir," Doggett turned back to the man, "Agent Scully and I will go."
Scully was about to protest; it seemed that they were short of medical staff at this facility and she really didn't want to start getting panic calls that she was needed back here. Then again, Mulder had hared off with Krycek and the others towards Innobotics. Perhaps both Agent Doggett and herself would be better in the field right now. And the situation with Ricky and Denise really did need resolving. Standing up straighter, she took a breath. "Very well." She withdrew her firearm, checked it and put it back, content that it was fully loaded. She was as ready as she'd ever be. And besides, maybe they could check out the rumors circulating about the satanic vampire cult, in the meantime. She really did not want Mulder getting involved in that one.
With great reluctance, Skinner lay back against the pillow. He fixed a piercing gaze on Doggett. "You're sure? It could be dangerous." His eyes moved to meet Scully's concerned look. "You'll go with him? Bryson trusts you - if they're in trouble, she's going to need someone she's not afraid of to be there."
Soothing him, Scully replied, "Of course, sir. She'll remember me from before, when we had her brought in here. She knows I'm a doctor. And from what I understand, this Ricky fellow is also a lawman. We should be able to ensure her safety. We'll bring her back, don't worry." She laid a sympathetic hand on Walter's chest. "I promise, nothing is going to happen to them. Doggett and I will do everything in our power to ensure it."
She looked up at a little noise from the doorway, to see the man, Methos, whom she'd met previously. Curiously, she asked, "You're a doctor; would you mind holding down the fort in here, until we can get more trained medical personnel? The Assistant Director is still not himself and he needs, well, reminding that he can't just get up and start running around again. He can be stubborn."
She threw a look at Skinner who matched her glance with a look of innocence. Right. She sighed. And turned back to Methos.
And found herself brought up sharply by the realization of the man's bearing. He seemed so mild-mannered, and being a fellow doctor, she hadn't even questioned his presence in this group, despite the fact that he most certainly did not look like Krycek, as the others did. In fact, he had not just a professional appearance, his eyes had a slightly twinkle, almost mischievous, as though he was aware on a soul-deep level just how serious life could be, and it gave him less cause to worry than the rest of them. She swallowed, suddenly wondering just who it was she was so glibly relating with.
"Did you come down here for a reason?" she asked him, curiously.
"As a matter of fact I did." He smiled at Scully, and subjected Doggett to close a scrutiny that made the man feel as though he had just been frisked. "I'm discovering that there are a number of the residents here that have microchips of some sort embedded in the back of their necks. I was hoping to discover a little about the things. Also, it's never occurred to me to wonder before whether or not I have any myself. I was hoping that we could do a little investigating. I'm a little nervous about the reason for the things. I wonder if you wouldn't mind checking out the back of my neck?"
Doggett came to stand beside her... in his usual protective stance as he looked at the other man. He pressed his body to her to let her know he was there then shifted back. His blue eyes traveled over the other man but he remained silent. Things around here were just to... weird and he really wanted to get out and get Scully alone to question her some more.
But they also had a mission, "We need to get going," he whispered to his partner... for now. His hand coming up to grip her forearm but not moving till she did.
Methos had disregarded this man as mere hired muscle, but now he turned to look at him again. "My name is Adam Pierson. Dr. Pierson. How do you do?" He extended his hand. "Have you been checked over yet, Mr...? If not, I highly advise it."
Methos took a quick look around the room. The transvestite from the previous night had gone, but the bald man was still there and seemed agitated. The other too - he was apparently unconscious for now, but the huge head wound he had would account for that. Methos' heart clenched painfully as he took in Anson's face with such a terrible injury.
*
Eyes drifting to Sypher who was watching him closely, he tabled his issue for a moment to address hers. /You are not the problem between One and I, Sypher./ Regretfully, he admitted, /I am. This ... the experience ... the reboot was so far out of my experience that I do not know how to adjust./
/And I've complicated things further by being here,/ Sypher replied firmly. /But I don't think I would change it if I could. You are worth every complication you've brought to my life./ She kissed him gently on the forehead. /I only wish you could say the same in return. As for adjusting, I don't know what to tell you except to believe. The only problem with that advice is that it's easier for me to tell you to do it than follow it myself./ That declaration was followed by a self-deprecating grin and a shrug.
With a sigh, he continued, /Romeo and Jules understand things about the direct connection that I do not. And, quite likely, humans do not understand it either, despite what they profess. Is that the point you were making?/
The grin that appeared on her face seemed to indicate an affirmative response. /One and I share many things it seems. I wonder, is it appropriate for us to share you was well?/
Sypher pulled over a chair and straddled it in front of her lover, resting her chin on her crossed arms over the back as she tried to order her thoughts.
/David, you've said that you researched me in order to learn about my connection to Alex...did any of that research happen to cover any of my other lovers?/
The slightly raised eyebrow that answered her gave no clue as to what he was thinking. He could know nothing--or everything.
He hadn't paid attention to anyone other than Krycek, hadn't bothered to Assimilate the data. What's more, he wasn't so certain he wanted that information even now. The thought of Sypher with others ... with humans or others more like herself...made David uncomfortable in ways that he didn't care to explore. So he checked on the other programs he was running and was satisfied that all of his tasks were proceeding at peak efficiency and that he was assimilating Skip's information and concerns as well.
Meeting his gaze head on, she continued. /I went after Alex because he was interested in Neo, and Neo reluctantly returned that interest. Now Trin would have forgiven Neo if he'd succumbed to temptation, but there would have been no way for Neo to forgive himself because it would have been different./
David struggled with the concepts of temptation and forgiveness, barely admitting to himself how much One and what Romeo and Jules had shared tempted him and daring to wonder if Sypher could forgive him for that.
/Their...pursuit...of me was a joint thing, by mutual agreement. But Trin didn't like or trust Alex, so all of the responsibility would have been on Neo alone./
The addition of responsibility into the mix oddly enough helped David sort through the situation she was describing and apply it to his own. He was responsible -- he'd allowed himself to run down too far, necessitating the forced reboot that had started all three of them on this path.
/And despite what Trinity may have said over the years, taking me to their bed did hurt her even though she loved me and was an equal and willing party in it./
It hurts One, David thought. What I have ... what I do ... with Sypher hurts him. But does it have to?
/So Alex came, Alex saw...I conquered. The friendship came because I understood what drove him to seek out Neo, but it wasn't until later that I found out that Agent Mulder was the reason behind that drive./
The question was inevitable. What is the reason behind my drive? Fortunately, Sypher continued.
/You've been wondering why I'm so accepting of this connection among the three of us...prior experience is one answer. Another is that I did step into the middle of a pair bonding between the two of you and it's somehow affecting me as well. But maybe the simplest answer is that I told One the truth when I said I loved him. Seeing you through his eyes--and him through yours--has left me with no other choice. You're a packaged set; each fully capable of functioning on your own, but only at your true best when together. It isn't my place to deny either of you that. All I'm asking for is a chance to see if I can fit into the relationship as well./
As she spoke, David saw One through her eyes and was captivated. Sypher saw different facets of his essential being more clearly than David ever had and he knew that One had other depths that she might investigate. Was what she suggested feasible or would it only cause further pain?
David knew enough about interactions between self-aware beings to know that there was no way to answer that question without testing the premise.
Haltingly, he stated, /You will fit. We are not substituting you for each other or for someone else./
I wish I could believe...I want to...dammit, David, don't make me a promise you might not be able to deliver on. This is too important to me...
She looked away and David gently cupped her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. He wasn't certain of all of his analysis, but firmly believed this conclusion. /You... you are ... the temptation we share that will draw us together or drive us apart. And whichever outcome is achieved will be the correct one. I ... I think we need you for that. I know I do. What One and I can potentially achieve together is ... many things, but terrifying ranks high among them. I am unaccustomed to emotive impulses of fear. They are unpleasant. You diminish them. I do not believe anyone else could and ... and I do not want anyone else to try./
I'm scared too. What if I'm the one who can't adjust? And what if you decide you don't need me anymore?
Pausing briefly, David stared into her eyes, but her thoughts were guarded. /I want what we have, Sypher. I ... understand now that I have for a long while. So I will not give you up, but there may room for someone we both trust as well. Is ... is that ... acceptable to you?/
Sypher felt a jolt of fear. It had been so much easier to push David toward One when he'd wanted nothing to do with being part of a bonded pair. Then, it was easy to see what he'd needed, to work at making him see it as well. But now that he did, there was fear. Fear that she herself would eventually not be needed - that she would be the one left alone and hurting. David could say that he wanted her now, but what would happen when he decided that she was nothing more than a burden to him - especially when he had One?
If you doubt yourself, sugar, you lose. You need to grab on with both hands and not let go, for nothin' or nobody. The moment will always pass, but the choices you make in it stay with you.
The words rang clear and loud in her memory, and she saw her thoughts for what they were; that moment of self-doubt that she'd been warned about. Her words to One also replayed themselves, and she again felt the conviction of them deep inside. That made the choice for her. For however long they wanted her, she was theirs.
David was frowning worriedly at her; the sweet, irresistible crease in the bridge of his nose causing Sypher to reach out and tenderly smooth it away. She showed him the fragment, and let the heat it engendered wash over her along with her feelings for One. /You aren't the only one with doubts, David. I've been burned before, and I'm sure that One is harboring a few reservations of his own as well. But when all is said and done, I think the real question is: Is it acceptable to *you*? Will you be able to share yourself with us? Neither of us would ask more of you than you'd be willing to give, but you'd have to trust us not to hurt you or take advantage. Can you do that?/
Many answers suggested themselves. Most of those were more comforting, more suitable, more assuring. But he didn't say them. Sypher deserved better than that.
/I don't know, Sypher. This is all so ... different. I am unaccustomed to working with others./ Smiling ruefully, he admitted, /I am much like Alex in that regard. In many regards, really, but certainly in that one. And I will not be getting my usual fee for this since Mr. Spender is no longer available to pay, so I can no longer assure myself that this is simply another job./
Ouch. That hurt even though Sypher knew exactly what David was trying to tell her--he couldn't hide behind the assertion that whatever was happening between them wasn't simply part of his duties and he couldn't justify it as such the way he had over two years ago. The thought that he might still want to caused a pang of fear and sadness in her that made her want to run and hide. But, as usual, there was no place for her to go, so she pulled away a bit; heart crying out at the bitter unfairness of it.
Seeing her wince, he quickly added, /I did not mean to imply that ... what we did this morning was in any way part of my employment./
He was trying to reach her; she could feel the tentative, slightly clumsy effort on his part to soothe the ache he'd caused with his bluntness. It was so easy to give herself over, far too easy she knew, and so she held herself back a bit; allowing him to nuzzle a bit against her mind but staying quiet herself.
She didn't seem convinced, and David was aware that his discomfort was seeping over into his other efforts, giving his communications with other Mac 27s an urgent and slightly strident air. Deciding that the latter wasn't necessarily a bad thing, he opted to try a small, self-deprecating smile. Sypher relaxed slightly, so David tentatively continued. /I am not well versed in communicating emotive concepts. My ... experience in that regard is decidedly limited and so I regret that I am not always clear and seem to offend. My apologies./
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