The Game 6

Edited by Karen Leigh

Marita had come to Washington to attend a meeting on the recent upheavals in the Middle East. It had been the usual show of good sportsmanship, but she knew it was only a matter of time before things went back to hell in the proverbial hand basket.

She supposed there was something to be said for trying to solve a centuries-old war in the space of a weekend... if you went in for impossible dreams.

She leaned against the wall in the lobby of the hotel - waiting for her contact.

Sudden movement caught her eye, and a man walking across the lobby at a rapid pace came into view. "Hey!" she called, but he didn't stop, just kept going. How unlike him Unless... It wasn't Alex. Which meant... No, your radar would have gone off.

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in the familiar number.

"I think you'd better get down here. It's starting. I just saw another clone. And the Mac 27 units are escaping."

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

C. G. B. Spender replaced his telephone and leaned back in his padded, leather chair.

Damn! Since Alex Krycek's first defection, everything had been going wrong. He closed his eyes in irritation. If you want a job done well, do it yourself. Alex Krycek. It was all his fault. The Alex project had always been near to his heart. All those beautiful, unscrupulous young men under his control. He'd enjoyed manipulating and demeaning them. They were deliciously unpredictable, but always came through with the goods.

He wasn't sure about the android project. Something told him that 10,000 Alex Kryceks, all with the strength of supermen, was too much to deal with. Still, it appeared that he was going to have to deal with them anyway. Sighing, he reached for the telephone and booked a flight to DC.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

Anson opened his eyes in the darkness. He was feeling good, but something wasn't quite right. He'd been asleep, mercifully dreaming good dreams, and suddenly he knew, with the sixth sense of the hustler, that something had changed.

He laid, every sense alert, waiting for the reason for his sudden awakening to become apparent. It didn't take long. Someone was moving in the bathroom. When the man emerged, he suddenly knew that it was Dustin. Sighing inwardly, Anson knew that he needed to intervene and help Dustin deal. He could tell at a glance that the other man's psyche was in shreds. He slid out of the bed softly, without wakening Methos, and padded over to his clothes. Once dressed, he quietly followed Dustin out into the night. Arriving down in the front foyer to begin his search, he spotted the lights of the all night cafe across the road, and headed that way to grab a caffeine fix. Sure enough, there sat his doppelganger, looking sorry for himself beside an open laptop. He grabbed his coffee, and swaggered over to the booth where he sat. Sliding in opposite Dustin, he racked his brain for something to say that wouldn't scare him off.

"Hey, man. Come on. What's the problem?"

Dustin looked up. "What's wrong? Man, what isn't wrong? I had it all and then I lost it... all because of one thing I did, or rather, didn't, do. This guy moved in on my life, into my house, my car, my job - he even took Darcy. Then I found out I let him do it for nothing. And yet the girl still ended up dead on the beach..."

He stared into his coffee, as if it held the answers he needed. "Then I come out here on a fool's errand while Minnow - that's the guy, don't ask, yeah, his name is *Minnow* - Minnow gets to stay at home and do the movie. The movie *I* found! The one I... hell, I'm VP. But he gets the VIP treatment? And..."

He trailed off. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to go off on you like that. I -- I usually don't, it's just... I've got to do this in a week, and meeting you all, and... and... what we..."

He looked away. "I can't believe I let myself do that. I don't know why I...I don't want it to bother me..."

He turned back. "And Darcy... read some of the emails she sent me..." he turned the laptop for Anson to see.

"I need a drink. Wanna grab one?"

Anson glanced through the email that Dustin had turned towards him.

"What a bitch! Why do you care about this freak?" he said, shuddering at the content. "Go fuck yourself?"

A thought occurred to him, and he chuckled at Dustin, shaking his head.

Dustin was instantly snapped out of his reverie. It took him a moment to realize what Anson was laughing at.

He shook his head with a scowl.

"Fuck off, Greene. You don't get it..."

"You certainly did that, didn't you? Was it good?" Anson gave Dustin a lascivious look, and rubbed his groin suggestively. Then he appeared to become serious. He leaned in to Dustin, and his voice dropped, sensual and husky to hear.

"All women are bitches. They'll take it all and betray you without a conscience. Don't waste your time grieving over her. She screwed you over, and you're sick, but you'll get over it, and you'll be happier, trust me. Come on back to the room and get some sleep.

He laid his hand over Dustin's, and fixed Dustin with an appealing gaze that said that he, Anson would count it a favour to have Dustin beside him.

Dustin sighed. "She... makes - made - me a whole person. We make a good team. And the sex... oh, man. Don't even talk about that."

For a moment he envisioned Darcy as she straddled him, riding him. Her long hair swung from side to side as he reached up to tweak her nipples...Darcy...

"That little trite speech supposed to cheer me up?" Dustin snorted. "Thanks, double, but I got that all figured out already. Intellectually."

He laughed bitterly. "What do you know about women, anyway? You're right that they can be total bitches... but you spoke it like a man who's been in the trenches." He swallowed.

Maybe if he got Anson to talk, they could drink and he could forget...

Dustin smiled slightly. "Let's go get drunk, but not... I don't want to go back just now."

He looked at Anson hopefully. "Can we just... talk awhile? Please?"

Anson reflected. He didn't want to lose Methos, but this guy was hurting, and besides, he felt so wide-awake now that he knew he wouldn't sleep. Besides, what would it matter if he told this double of his the story of his sorry life.

"I'll come and have a drink, but I can't afford to get drunk, man. I'm flat broke," he said, honestly.

Dustin nodded. "If it's money you're after, I got that. I'll hook you up."

Together, they left the coffee bar and returned across the road to the hotel, where they took the elevator to the mezzanine and ambled into the bar and Dustin ordered a couple of shots.

Carrying the glasses with them, they found a table away from the bar and took their seats.

"You want to know why I hate women? I'll tell ya. I was married. I've got a daughter that I haven't seen in four years. They won't let me see her because 'its better that way.'" Anson's voice took on a sneering singsong as he spoke. One day I came home, and all my stuff was out on the porch. She'd found herself a guy who made more money than I did, and that was it. Bye-bye Anson. They all do it to you. You'll see."

Dustin looked at Anson. [And I thought I had problems.]

"I'm ... real sorry to hear that. Man! At least Darcy never had the chance to... your daughter? Why won't they let you see her? Any way you can? That's not right."

He picked up his glass and tossed off the alcohol, and then slammed the glass down on the table.

"You can't tell me anything good about them."

Dustin nodded. "Well, they are good in bed..." he sighed. "That's...something else again, though. Do you ever think about revenge? You know, getting back at the people who took your life..."

Anson smiled. "Good in bed? Yeah, but hey, Methos last night was a damned sight better than my ex ever was. As for getting my own back, listen to me, man, it's just not worth it. Get out of there while you can, and forget them. That's more revenge than you can possibly imagine."

He zeroed in on a cold looking blonde who sat alone at a table a few paces away from them. "Look at her. Beautiful, isn't she? She'd cut your balls off, man. It would be hundreds of dollars just to talk to her. Forget it, man. I'm happy without the hassle."

He nodded to a couple of girls who smiled at him, and waved the bartender over for another round.

"I haven't been the same since that day... I feel so cold. Like a dead man. A puff of wind could blow me apart. Like I'm living though I shouldn't be... can you understand that?"

"I understand perfectly."

"Your life comes to an end, and you feel like somehow they forgot to bury you. That's when you make the big mistakes, Dustin, if you're not careful. Don't go get yourself into the sort of mess I did."

Dustin grunted.

Dustin looked over at the blonde woman Anson indicated. Yes, she was beautiful... he imagined her hair tossing as she swung her head. He looked at her slender neck, and her delicate ears.

"That's the thing though. I could have had her in two minutes back home...and I would be the cold one. I still probably could, or maybe not. I've lost my confidence..."

Dustin looked at his companion. "Big mistakes, Anson? I surely couldn't think of a much bigger one... but what do you mean?"

Anson's voice had sounded almost... haunted. Yes. Ancient and haunted.

"What happened to you, Anson?"

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

Cory groaned and rolled over reaching for ...

What the hell? He opened his eyes and saw that he and Methos were alone in bed. Sitting up, he looked around the suite. No signs of either Dustin or Anson.

"Hey," he reached over and poked at Methos. "Wake up."

Methos pulled the covers over his head, determinedly ignoring Cory. "Go away," he muttered, "'M trying to sleep here."

"Methos," Cory whined, pulling at the blanket, "they're gone."

Cracking one eye open, Methos glared at Cory. "What the fuck is your problem, Raines. I'm an old man, you know. I need my rest."

"Dustin and Anson ... they're gone."

Well, hell. Giving in to the inevitable, Methos opened both eyes and looked around the room. "Yeah ... well, I expect they'll come back sooner or later, Cory. After all, Dustin is paying for the room ... all of his stuff is here."

"And Anson?"

Methos cracked a smile. "Oh, I definitely think he'll be back." He sighed at Cory's concerned expression. "Look, Raines, they probably just went to get coffee or something." He sat up and adjusted his pillow behind him, leaning back comfortably. "Speaking of coffee ... if you're gonna insist on my waking up, the least you could do is call room service and order up a pot."

"Don't you think we should go look for them or something?" Cory asked with a frown.

Fuck! Methos groaned and rubbed one hand over his face. "No Cory, I don't ... let them be. If they wanted to be with us, they would." He climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom. "Call down for coffee while I shower, okay?"

"But -"

"Raines," Methos said firmly, "just call, would you? I'll be right out, then we'll talk." He closed the bathroom door behind him, ignoring Cory's pathetic expression.

After calling room service, Cory got up and found his jeans. Pulling them on, he sat down on the sofa with a sigh. Damn Methos anyway. Bastard had no empathy ... no sympathy. Didn't he understand? Dustin was most likely wallowing in guilt right now. Poor guy. Cory almost regretted his insistence on seducing the man.

Almost.

Methos emerged from the bath just as the coffee arrived. He poured himself a cup and sat down next to Cory on the couch, sipping the hot beverage with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, that helps," he said.

Cory shrugged and stared blankly into his own cup.

"Cory," Methos studied the pensive expression on his face with concern, "what's wrong? This just isn't like you. Snap out of it, man. They'll be back."

"I just ... I don't know, Methos. Do you think I pushed Dustin too hard last night? Maybe I shouldn't have insisted so much. I think I may have hurt him ... confused him, you know?"

He'd never known Raines to be so ... serious before. Methos shifted closer and put a comforting arm around the man's shoulders. "Cory ... Dustin's a big boy. You didn't force him into anything. Don't tear yourself up over this ... Let's wait and see what happens when they get back."

"It's just that ... I really like him, Methos. He's a good guy and I'm afraid that our little scene last night really freaked him." Cory sipped his coffee absentmindedly. "Maybe it was a mistake." He looked at Methos sadly. "I was pretty ... um, well ... I was so sure that he'd like it and you and Anson were so ... in tune with each other. I fucked up big time, didn't I?"

Setting his coffee down on the side table, Methos pulled Cory closer. "Listen, kid, I don't have any answers for you. I know that you and Mac think I'm some kind of font of wisdom, but I'm just a guy ... a really old guy, but still just a guy. I think Dustin will be okay. He's just a little confused right now. It was a new experience for him, you know."

"Yeah, I know." Cory said sadly. He laid his head on Methos' shoulder and sighed again. "I just wanted him so much."

"Cory, this is a new and slightly frightening version of you," Methos said. "You're always so ... happy-go-lucky."

Cory shrugged. "I know that's how people see me, Methos. And, usually, I am happy. But, I get lonely sometimes. I don't really have any close friends and my lovers are ... casual at best. For some reason, Dustin really got to me, you know?"

"I'm beginning to see that, Cory." Methos said softly. "You're not alone though ... I'm your friend. And so is Amanda."

Cory snorted. "Amanda is a fun companion, we have a long history but ... she's not exactly the kind of person I can love ..." He looked up at Methos. "Do you really think of me as your friend?"

"Yes, I do ... but if you spread that around I'll have to deny it. I work hard at my distance from people, Cory. I have a reputation to uphold."

"Yeah ... Methos the ultimate pragmatist."

"That's me." He carded his fingers through Cory's soft hair. "I do have feelings, Cory. I've just learned to ... protect myself over the years. It gets hard, watching so many friends and lovers die, you know."

"Maybe that's why I work so hard at being ... carefree, Methos. It hurts when they die. It hurts so much."

"I know it does, Cory ... that's our lot in life though," Methos offered. "All we can do is survive it as best we can." He picked up his coffee and took another sip, grimacing at the now cold brew. "Come on, Raines, let's get back into bed and try to get more sleep while we wait."

Cory agreed and reluctantly pulled away from the other man's warmth. They shed their clothes and climbed back into the bed.

"C'mere," Methos said, pulling Cory over to lie against him.

Cory settled down, his head on Methos' shoulder and one arm across his waist. "Methos," he asked hesitantly, "Why Anson? I mean, you've never shown any interest in me that way. He does look exactly like me."

"Because I always thought you were straight, Cory. I was pretty surprised last night by your interest in Dustin."

"Yeah, well ... I always thought that you and Duncan ..."

Methos chuckled. "You've got to be kidding me ... Mac's about as straight as a man can be. Besides, all that duty and honor and ... Hell, he's such a boy scout!"

"So ... you're my friend ... and obviously you like my looks, after all, you did make some pretty heavy moves on Anson. Why not me?" Daringly, Cory started stroking Methos' chest, enjoying the smooth skin under his fingertips.

"Ahh," Methos sighed. "Told you ... thought you were straight."

"So ... now that you know I'm not?"

"Mmmm," pulling Cory closer, Methos smiled. "Well now ... the situation has all kinds of interesting possibilities now." He put one hand under Cory's chin and raised his head up. "Why don't you kiss me and let's see what happens, eh?"

Cory and Methos dressed and went to find Anson and Dustin.

Once outside the crowded apartment Baines heaved a sigh of relief and began walking hoping to snag a cab. At least an hour later he caught a cruising taxi and headed back to his hotel. He was paying a pretty penny for his tiny room in the huge, fancy hotel and thought he might catch some sleep in his own bed. Decanted in front of the hotel, Baines stretched his 6'1" frame. Scanning the surrounding area was second nature and he did it without thinking noting two men coming out of a coffee shop across the street. There was something familiar about them but he shook his head and headed past the doorman into the spacious lobby. He went to his room and took a hot shower. His mind was tracking the events of the day and he decided a quick drink might help him sleep. He took the elevator down to the mezzanine and got out. Another swift glance around on his way from the bank of elevators and his eyes locked on those of a man coming out of one, 'another clone'. Baines stopped in his tracks and waited for the man and his darker companion to come up to him.

"Alex", it's good to see you again. Do you know anything about what is going on with all these carbon copies of you that seem to have descended on D.C. this week?"

"I'm not Alex," growled Baines.

Cory who had merely taken in the clothes, the face and the walk took a second look at the left arm with its stiff hand and shook his head. He looked past Baines to see Dustin and Anson sitting in the bar. He shrugged and indicated with a nod of his head and a flick of his eyes; Baines turned and saw two more of his doubles already seated at a table in the bar.

Anson was thinking hard; trying to make the words "I am a murderer," sound less chilling, less horrific than they did, when he spotted Cory and Methos approaching. He flashed Methos a relieved grin, and then noted that there was yet another look-a-like with them. He frowned. Just how many of us are there, he was thinking.

Dustin looked at Cory and Methos, and then saw the newcomer. He shut his eyes and opened them again. Still the other copy of him was there. What's going on? *Have* I ended up in an episode of The Twilight Zone? It was an absurd thought, but so was his present situation.

He beckoned the three over to their table, and idly noted the blonde at the next table had withdrawn a cellular phone and was now talking into it in hushed, but urgent tones. [Great. Just what I need. Well, at least this should get my mind off the other.]

He nodded to Cory and Methos, and his other double.

"You found another one?" he said to Methos, grinning, and running his tongue over his teeth. "How many of us do you need?"

Methos sat down next to Anson and looked over at Dustin as Cory headed for the bar. "Cory has been really worried about you, Dustin. He dragged me out of bed to come looking for the two of you." He sent Anson an apologetic look. "I did tell him that you'd be back but he was ... unusually concerned and insisted we find you."

Dustin nodded and smiled weakly. "I'll be all right. Thanks, though. It's...nice of you and Cory to come find us."

He'd be all right if he could just get over it. Maybe best to forget anything had happened...But the idea, that Cory cared for him enough to come look for him, made him feel nice. He looked at Baines as he talked, nodding at the appropriate moments.

Dustin groaned, but grinned a little.

Looking around at his three apparent duplicates, sitting around the table, each with their highball, he felt a wave of hysteria threatening to take him. He turned to the newest addition to his nightmare.

"What's your story?" he said to Baines. For some reason Dustin giggled. Must have been the drink, or his sudden case of deja vu. "Sorry," he said, trying to stifle himself.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

The smoker was paying off his cab outside the DC offices of the Consortium, when his phone rang once more. It was 3am. Surely everyone was in bed, and if not, then they ought to be.

He thumbed the phone to turn it on, and instantly, Marita's cold tones cut through the damp air. She was babbling, and the best that the smoker could discern was that she was in the company of a number of Alex Krycek look-a-likes. He climbed back into the cab. Best to see this for himself.

On arrival at the hotel, he made for the bar, which was preparing for closing. Looking around, he spotted Marita almost at once. She gave him an anxious look and indicated a table that was in the corner, hidden by large, strategically placed plants.

As he approached her, he could begin to see around the corner, and despite his usual phlegmatic attitude, he felt his eyebrows rise.

There were four of them. Four of them, right here in the bar. There was another with them, dark and saturnine, but the four that took his attention were sitting together, apparently in animated conversation. He moved to greet Marita and sat down.

Hello," she said. "I'm glad you're here. The two on the side there came down, and went to the coffee shop. One followed the other. Then they came back, and were joined by the others. I don't know who the other one is, but I think we should find out." Marita looked at him. "It's hard to know what to do when you never tell me what to do, or how to do it, or what the final goal even is."

The old man looked at her with a cold smile. "You'll do what you are told and nothing more. All you have are orders to be carried out."

[Typical. Goddamned typical.] "Yes, of course," she said demurely and lowered her eyelids to cover the flush of anger she felt at his words.

When he saw her face flush, he paused, lighting a cigarette and leaning back to appreciate the fragrant curl of smoke. "You will attempt to infiltrate the group. I want Alex Krycek and one of those men will no doubt be able to lead you to him. Make yourself useful, my dear. Seduce one. I really don't care which it is. It will be quite like old times for you."

She nodded at him. You will. I want. She really resented his authoritarian attitude at times, but it had been her choice to join the Consortium. You so sure about that?

She looked at him coldly. "And if they don't know where Krycek is?"

She eyed the table of men, wondering which she would approach. One was dressed in jeans and a lumberjack shirt, one all in black just like Alex, another in an expensive looking suit and tie. His shirt was a little rumpled. The fourth she really couldn't see as he returned to the table but she had no doubt he was just as handsome as the others.

She smiled thinly.

"Just like old times, hmm?" she mused. "You know, if I didn't know you better, I might take offense to that." Actually, I do take offense to that. In a big way.

"If I were you, I would save your spleen for somewhere it can be of use to you. You have a job to do. I trust that you will bring it to a speedy conclusion. I will be at the offices should you require assistance, and my dear...?"

She looked at him, in mute inquiry.

"Be sure you don't fail me. I will be watching."

He stood and walked to the doorway of the bar, a tall figure, limber despite his age. He didn't turn to look behind him. He didn't need to. He'd given an order, and it would be obeyed, there was nothing more certain.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

"Eugene," Rodney breathed, knees weakening as his lover kissed him. "Oh God, Eugene!"

Eugene's kisses were flan, sweet, rich, and multi-layered. A man could live on those lips. That bottom one lush, yielding...Rodney sucked it into his own mouth, nibbled on it. He felt Eugene's hand unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans, and slip into his welcoming warmth. Rodney spread his legs as the hand found his cock and played with it. Eugene took control, cupping his face with loving firmness.

The lovers sank down on the damp grass, moaning as their strong, supple bodies writhed against each other. A slamming door interrupted their tryst.

"Jeez, can't you kids keep your hands off each other until you're off shift. Sorry, break's over. Rodney, you're not going to believe it, but they just brought in another guy who looks just like you."

Amelia Jacobs brushed her short salt and pepper colored hair back with an abrupt movement of her thin big knuckled fingers. She was a wiry, petite woman with skin the color of a chocolate malted and big elfin eyes that looked on the world as if it was one big baby in need of feeding. Her small stature was belied by an inner chi that allowed her to bully men in the last stages of DTs into the tiny clinic unit, strong arm a two hundred seventy pound man with the IQ of a six year into a shower, and sit holding a tremulous hand as they waited for an ambulance to haul a dying AIDS victim into the hospital. If Rodney didn't love Doctor Eugene Sands so much, he might have volunteered to be Jacob's toy boy.

Eugene groaned and said, "Is he sick?"

Jacobs said, "No, just down and out. Eugene, will you get him settled? And I need some help with that skinny kid who came in an hour ago. Rodney, see if you can find out why he's trying to persuade us that he's eighteen. He's fifteen if he's a day."

Jacobs didn't make any comment about their disheveled clothing as they pulled themselves together. Eugene grinned and said, "Back to reality. Hmm, another Rodney clone? A guy could die from a surfeit of riches."

Rodney shot his lover a dirty look and said, "Or die from straying from the one that loves him."

Eugene grinned and ducked through the door. Rodney was tired, horny, but happy. He spared a thought for Fox Mulder who had taken his life by storm and freed him to eventually find the love of his life. Rodney hadn't heard from Fox for a while. Perhaps that was for the best. Fox was "What might have been." Eugene was it, his lover, his friend, his support group, and his world. Rodney reflected that, despite the playful personality that Mulder had, he had always had an inner reserve as if part of him wasn't really in Rodney's arms. Rodney looked into the foggy night and shrugged. Well, this was one of those nights that anything could happen and probably would. He'd better go find out who the runaway kid was.

Allison walked into the shelter and found Amelia. "I know I said I had a busy day tomorrow but I figured I could come down here for a few." She took off her damp trench coat and slung it over one arm. "You won't believe this - I ran into two more Rodney look-a-likes. No, Amelia, not those - those."

She smiled. "Their names were Dustin and Anson. Met them at the nightclub, down the street over there? Strange thing is, I don't believe either of them knew the other one! What's going on in this city?" She shook her head. "If it's not one thing, it's another... well, what can I do to help?"

Rodney shoved off his shoes and groaned, wiggling his toes inside of the thick cotton socks he used to help his feet endure an eight-hour shift of running, lifting, and deftly skipping to avoid unpleasant substances. As he hoped, Eugene's radar was working. Damn the man was beautiful, Rodney thought as his lover's crooked beaked profile appeared in the doorway.

Eugene plopped onto the sagging couch with the broken spring in the middle that decorated one wall of the staff lounge. He lifted Rodney's feet into his lap. He drew each cotton sock off and produced a plastic jar of Coconut-Vanilla-Musk oil.

Rodney arched his head back in bliss and said, "If I wasn't in love with you, I'd fall in love with you just for this." Rodney groaned with pleasure and let a deep contented rumbling emerge from his chest. If he had ever guessed that life could be this good back in the pit of his former existence, it might have killed him for sheer contrast.

A little later returning the favor, Rodney asked, "So what about the kid? He tell you anything? Such as his real age?"

"Nope." Eugene said, "And I'm not asking. That kid is scared. When I took him to the clothing storage room to change, I saw old burns and scars on him. Whatever he's running from, it isn't a case of not getting the newest game boy. So what about you? You figure out why you suddenly have twins all over the place?"

Rodney leaned forward to kiss the top of Eugene's foot. He stroked a finger down the sole and said, "Must be more clones. Maybe they had them stored some place and they got loose. More power to them."

"Hate to interrupt anything, boys." A sultry voice teased.

"Allison!" Rodney exclaimed with real pleasure. Even though there was a lot he didn't like in Washington, DC, Allison was a good friend and he didn't regret moving here just because he and Eugene had met her.

"You're not going to believe this, but two more guys who look like you showed up." Allison said. She continued, "Amelia is in the kitchen, serving them soup, although they ate three candy bars a piece out of the junkie stash. They were shaking so hard that we thought they on the big H. But when we checked, they didn't have any needle marks. Anyway, these two are so much in love that they hardly would let go of each other to eat as starved as they were. You know the rules; no one is allowed to sleep together, no matter what. So they intend to hit the streets and sleep in a park. They're too innocent for that, guys. You're going to think I'm crazy, but either you two take them home or I will."

Rodney thoughtfully replied, "That's against the rules too."

Eugene looked at him with his soulful hazel eyes and said, "It could be us."

Rodney sighed. Eugene was right. He said, "Allison, how many stray kittens and little lost dogs did you talk your Mom into keeping?"

Allison tried to look at them sternly, but broke into a smile. "Too many for our own good. And a couple of foster kids, too... she still has one of the kids, and five dogs and seven cats. And she never lets me forget that I talked her into them." She smiled. "These two are just so adorable. Wait until you meet them. Their names are Romeo and Jules." She giggled. "I'd take them myself, but - you know. You'd be perfect for them. And I know you won't let them come to harm." She began to walk towards the kitchen, looking to see that Rodney and Eugene were following. "You know, I've seen some... disturbing things, lately. Dark vans that seem to be rounding up these look-a-likes... I've seen it a few times on street corners. These two escaped such a van..." Reaching the kitchen, she nodded and smirked at Amelia for a second. "You wait, you'll see."

She walked over to where Jules and Romeo were seated at a table, alternately eating hearty soup and feeding it to each other, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes.

She cleared her throat with a smile, and they looked at her.

"This is Rodney and Eugene," she said. "They're the men I told you about. Now, just like I told you..." she added conspiratorially.

Jules smiled, and so did Romeo. They gave Rodney and Eugene the most irresistible looks they could manage. "No one understands," Jules said.

"We live in an unforgiving world," added Romeo. "We aren't considered by many to be able to feel emotion. Or, for that matter, to be truly sentient enough to know what emotions are, on any real level."

"We're thought of as so much silicone." Chimed in Jules.

Allison squeezed their shoulders. "Stop, or you'll break my heart right along with theirs."

"I did not mean to break your heart, Allison," Jules said.

"Oh, no," Allison smiled. "You didn't. It's a..." She gave up and looked at Eugene and Rodney with the same expression she'd used on her own mother. It hadn't failed yet.

Rodney felt his knees growing weak. He grabbed Eugene and held on tight. Clones he could handle. It had been a shock at first when Mulder informed him what he was, but after a while, cloning was old news. Life was the sum of experiences, not just what was in the genetic code. However, the full impact of what these limpid green-eyed doubles had said hit him hard. He looked at Eugene and at Allison. "We'd better talk. Um, Romeo and Jules, would you come into the staff room with us?"

The lovers drew together and they looked mildly distrustful. "Humans are not all trustworthy," said Romeo, who seemed the more assertive of the two.

Jules nodded agreement. "We would not have come here except we were very hungry and sensed others of our kind."

As if on cue, three more Rodney copies walked into the room.

"Wow, pretty, pretty, pretty! I feel like Captain Kirk. Hope Harcourt Fenton Mudd doesn't show up next." Eugene said, with one eye on his lover and the other on five, count them, five beautiful Rodney doubles.

Rodney noticed his lover's ready to drool expression and pinched him. "Hey, you said that you love me for my soul."

Eugene said, "Just looking."

The residents in the halls reacted in various ways, none all that dramatically though. A lot of the homeless residents had alcohol, drug, or mental health problems. They were used to seeing odd things or having double, triple, or this case sextuplet vision.

Allison off loaded change into the machine and dumped a load of candy on the table. All of the Rodney clones instantly grabbed a handful.

Rodney surveyed the lot. Romeo and Jules were easy to pick from the rest. They were always touching. He thought Jules had longer eyelashes and was more inclined to be shy. Romeo had a particularly piercing expression and was very assertive.

The other three had signed in as Mac Brown, Mac Smith, and Trey-Trey MacDuff. Mac Brown looked dull eyed. Rodney had signed him in and noticed right away the way his double flinched if you moved toward him. Mac Smith was a cheerful worker who had immediately volunteered to work in the kitchen. He had made tonight's soup out of an assortment of surplus food, donations, and grocery stores seconds. Somehow, it tasted grand enough to even tempt Eugene to take a second serving. And Eugene had never quite learned to eat what he could find. He had been raised by an affluent Jewish couple that had doted on him before his brush with the law. Trey-Trey MacDuff, well, it was hard to say what he was about. His only comment directed at Romeo and Jules was "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." This was spoken in rich, rolling stage tones that would have reached to the last row in a theater.

Rodney began the meeting by saying, "All of you have met Eugene and I. This woman is Allison Meredith-Jones. We want to help you, but I think we need some explanations first."

Romeo stood up and said, "May we confer alone first?"

Rodney said, "Sure. Just open the door when you're ready."

Rodney leaned on the door and shook his head. "Give me a few rounds with Mike Tyson any day instead of this weirdness."

Eugene nodded. He moved over and wrapped his arms around Rodney. "But at least it isn't boring. I can't believe I used to think I had to numb myself to get through life. Now, I wake up each day and just anticipate every moment, because I know that you're never far."

Allison said, "That's why we have to help them. All these poor frightened creatures...we have to find out the truth."

After a while, the door opened. Romeo said, "We will trust you. Ours is a strange and bitter tale at times. Come and sit down. We will tell you of the previous Macs and how one day, Mac 27 Number One realized that he was a unique being."

Rodney looked at Eugene who looked at Allison. She shrugged and took up the gauntlet, unafraid.

Allison looked at Romeo. "Thank you for your trust. We have room in our hearts, and shelter, for all of you."

Romeo gave a wry smile. "For 10,000 of us?" he said. "That's how many there are, you know."

Allison looked at Rodney and Eugene, who looked about as stunned as she felt. She looked back at Romeo. "Room in our hearts, if not in our beds." She paused at a look from Eugene. "Um, that didn't come out right. Of course, I meant the beds here, at the shelter."

Rodney smirked at her. Eugene giggled, as did Jules.

"We only ask to be together," he said. "Me and Romeo."

"Umm..." Eugene said.

Allison looked at him. He and Rodney had to 'adopt' these two; they just had to.

Romeo looked at Allison. "It was very sad about Mac 27 One. Very sad. He...he worked on a farm, with a hard master who worked him very hard. He thought of him as no more than another machine, and spared no thought for his comfort or feelings."

Jules put in, "He did not even know he had feelings..."

Romeo continued. "The farmer and his wife had three children, one of whom was just of school age, and just learning to read. She also regarded Mac One as a human, because to a child... to those who... feel more than reason, he was a living being, just as she was."

Allison nodded. "Of course." She noticed Eugene swallowing hard, and Rodney taking his hand.

"He learned very quickly, and soon he was reading the older children's books... a book by a man named Charles Dickens, I think, had a particular effect on him. One day he was wandering around the farm after he'd finished his work, and he came to the tool shed."

Romeo's face tightened for a moment, and he continued. "He found a Mac 27 owner's manual. This made him very sad - that he was still thought of as a machine when he felt so human. He began to read more. The older son was at university, and had many, many philosophical texts that Mac 27 One read thoroughly. He grew very disillusioned, and he started to question his owner on his rights to treat him the way he was. That's when -- when they sent him, Mac One, they sent him to NASH..."

At the mention of NASH, Jules looked about ready to faint. Romeo put a protective arm around him.

"There," Romeo said to Jules. "There, there. No one will take you to NASH."

Allison took Jules's hand lightly. "We won't let anyone hurt you, or treat you badly, ever again. Don't worry. You're safe now."

She turned to the other Macs, Mac Brown and Mac Smith and Trey-Trey MacDuff. "You are all safe, too."

Mac Brown still looked fearful, trembling as she looked at him. She knelt beside him, and he looked at her with large, frightened eyes, that nearly broke her heart. She had a chocolate bar in her waist pack, and she brought it out for him. "Do you want this?"

He reached for it, and then stopped. "What do I have to do for it?"

Allison choked up. "Absolutely nothing... just take it." She set it on his knee when he still seemed unsure, and moved back to where Jules and Romeo stood. "There are times I'm ashamed to be a human being," she said. She looked at Romeo. "Romeo, who wants to round you up? Why are they doing this?"

Rodney was interested in the answer too. He knew more than anyone what it felt like to be owned. Between alcohol and gambling, he had sold his soul and body into slavery. He thought the strange little man who fell in love with his sister, Iris, had freed him. But the death of the fight promoter who blackmailed Iris and him with his gambling debts had not been the end of it. The man's nephew had forced him into prostitution and devastated what remaining dregs of self-respect Rodney had kept. One day, some unknown angel of mercy struck the monster down. Rodney had decided to struggle back into the real world, leaving alcohol, the fight ring, and gambling behind.

Rodney saw helping the Mac 27s as a way of paying back fate for his freedom Besides Romeo and Jules tugged at his heart. Now that he had Eugene, he understood what it was like to feel that his life was bound to that of another. Loving Eugene made him a better person. It gave him courage, dignity, and joy. And he felt that Romeo and Jules proved better than anything that these "soft machines" were as human as any one he knew. More human than some.

Romeo nodded as if guessing his thoughts. His intense eyes gazed at his beloved and they clasped hands again. Romeo said, "I thought we were being taken to the recycling station. But the men who took us did not seem like the ones I knew from the factory or crèche. They spoke oddly, saying someone was willing to pay a great deal more than the maker for us."

Allison frowned and asked, "But they didn't say who?"

Romeo said, "No, but he must have great wealth and power to find us. Anne moved and changed her name to protect us after she saw the recall notice."

Romeo said, "When they came to Anne's house, we were alone. Anne was at a dog show with Aura and Boris. We used to go with her, but when the recall note came, Anne said that she would pretend that we had run away. Anne loves us."

Jules said, "Anne always understood us. When she came to the crèche, she only wanted one Mac 27. But Romeo and I always knew we were meant for each other. When she saw us holding each other, she said that she would pay more than the cost of both to keep us as a pair. Anne said she would fight the bad men before she would let them take us."

Romeo said, "But she didn't change the dog's names. He must have traced us through the AKC."

Trey-Trey MacDuff said, "My owner loved me also. He was a great actor. A very great actor who wanted a companion to read to him and play out scenes. He was very old and fragile. I fear they killed him when they dragged me from his house." MacDuff's green eyes shed tears, which rolled down the sharp planes of his face.

Mac Smith said, "I don't know if my owner loves me, but I was a good chef. A highly skilled one. I wonder if the customers miss me?"

Mac Brown had never ventured a single word except to answer a direct question. It surprised Rodney and everyone else by their reactions to hear his voice. He said, with a kind of bleak passion, "I would have been glad to go to be recycled. I have never known love. My life from the time I left the crèche has been to be the plaything of a cruel master. He asked that I have the most exquisite receptors for sensation. The makers did not ask why; they programmed me to feel great pain and pleasure. Pleasure I have not known. Pain I know. Pain I have catalogued in a thousand shapes and forms." Mac Brown looked at Allison and said, "You seem kind. If Romeo and Jules know how to end my life, I ask you to give me this mercy."

Rodney knew that feeling. He hid his sudden tears by turning to his lover. He still listened to hear what Allison would say. "Humans get mistreated, too," Rodney said.

Mac Brown nodded glumly.

"But then you... you find love," Eugene said.

Allison sat down by Mac Brown. He eyed her warily, but didn't try to run. She smiled. "I can give you some chocolate... for a start," she whispered.

Mac Brown's dull eyes sparked for a moment.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand.

Reflexively he jerked back.

"I'm sorry," Allison said. She led him to her cluttered office down the hall, and he sat across from her desk. She sat behind it and took out a Hershey's Special Dark bar. She handed it to him, and he studied her for quite a while before unwrapping it and tentatively breaking off a small piece. He put it in his mouth, sucking slowly. He smiled.

And so did Allison.

Mac Brown hesitated before accepting the small piece of chocolate. His master would often offer him fuel and then take it back. The only time that Mac Brown ever could count on enough food to fully function was when his master brought friends over and wanted his toy to perform with them. Then he would not want Mac Brown to go into a power saving mode and fail to experience and react to The Games of the night. Mac Brown had never had chocolate before arriving at the shelter, although he knew it was a magic food, full of power and complex chemicals that a Mac 27 would experience as heightened sensations. Ah, but this food of the gods was even more wonderful than the small chocolate covered bar the human with his face had given him. Mac Brown felt the flavor burst over his taste analyzers. His metabolic converters sang with the unaccustomed calories to transform as energy. His processors converted the feedback he received and formulated a smile response. This was a new activity and Mac Brown devoted a small part of his cognitive programs to study it.

Master smiled when he succeeded in stimulating the damage avoidance program and the emotional wave associations that were associated. However, Mac Brown knew that he was not hurting the chocolate or the human woman who smiled back at him. This was puzzling. Mac Brown accepted another piece and this time he did not flinch back. The brush of the woman's soft fingers was pleasant. His olfactory receptors registered her scent as in the range preferred by humans. He found that he preferred her company to that of the other humans or even his own kind.

Mac Brown recognized that he had accepted several favors. Master had equated every necessary process that Mac Brown experienced with the need to offer an exchange. Even though Master could order him to do anything, it amused him to make Mac Brown ask for sexual acts or to be punished. Perhaps, Mac was supposed to offer something to this female person.

Mac Brown bowed his head submissively. He said, "Should it please you, Mistress, this miserable and hideous android begs for you to use him. My skin conducts exquisite agony to my processors when I am whipped or burnt. I will simulate bleeding without risk to your health. I am capable of erection even when I am screaming with pain."

Large tears welled up in the female's eyes. She covered her mouth and ran from the room. Mac Brown realized he had done something very wrong. He didn't know how to correct his error. Sometimes, Master wanted him to prepare to be punished, but sometimes when Mac guessed wrong, Master had been very angry.

When the human female returned, she broke off another large piece of the delectable fuel and said, "Open."

Mac Brown felt the fingers brush his lips and then the treat was melting over his taste receptors.

The woman said, "Now I want you to learn something."

Mac Brown's negative probability calculator's cycle disengaged. He thought he knew what would happen next. He hoped he would suffer beautifully for the woman. Perhaps she would then want him for her own Mac 27. He could endure pain for the kindness and soft touches she had already demonstrated.

The women held out her hand. "Shake this."

Mac Brown understood that. He obeyed and waited. She said, "I'm your friend, Mac Brown. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to let anyone hurt you anymore."

Mac Brown felt something. Was this a positive outcome verification feedback loop? Mac Brown enjoyed the surge of what humans called hope. He asked, "Am I your Mac 27 now? Is this a command?"

The woman groaned and said, "You are free."

Mac Brown said, "Free - meaning number, one not imprisoned or enslaved. Meaning number two, given without monetary compensation. Meaning number three, not controlled by will of another or having free choice. Is this correct?"

The human woman nodded. Mac Brown considered a vast range of possibilities. He said, "Then I choose to be your Mac 27."

The woman said, "Fuck, no. You don't have to belong to any one."

Mac Brown checked his logic program. He decided he was correct and replied, "Only a master can order me not to be hurt anymore. That is all I know. I am willing to learn freedom if you will teach me. But I do not want to be of no value. My master said that I was very expensive because of my special nervous system. If I do not have an owner, then someone like my master or worse may find me. No, I choose to be terminated or to be your Mac 27. I value your friendship, Mistress." Mac Brown found a humor circuit that he did not know that he had. The human woman seemed very perturbed. Her mouth kept opening and closing as if her verbal circuits had malfunctioned

Allison sighed. "Then I suppose I will take you home with me. If it comforts you to think of yourself as mine, for a little while, so be it. But I don't own you, and you are -- you don't have to stay with me if you don't want to."

"Also, please call me Allison." She grinned. She smiled. "I've got to be going home now... this isn't my real job. I volunteer a lot though. It's important in our society to look out for those less fortunate than ourselves... you know?"

"Your home?" he asked.

"Yes... you can go with me if you like."

"Then I'll go to Mistress Allison's home."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Allison."

They walked out into the main room of the shelter, and Allison looked at Eugene, who was looking at her with a look in his eye.

"You got another stray," he joked.

She sighed. "You're taking Jules and Romeo."

Rodney smiled. "How can we not? Look at them."

It was true. The two androids were cuddled up in the corner, eating chocolate and feeding each other.

Allison laughed. "All right. I'll see you guys tomorrow, after work..."

Rodney watched Allison go out the door with Mac Brown. It may have been wishful thinking, but he thought the self-destructive android already looked happier. Eugene stretched and yawned, ran his elegant fingers through his tawny hair. Gawd, all his...every lean, laconic, edible inch of him! It took every bit of self-control not to trip him and hit the floor beneath him before he could fall.

Eugene's eyes danced. "You want to go home and go to bed?"

Rodney said, "Yeah. Let's go." He turned to the android lovers and said, "Come on, guys. There's a hide-a-bed with your name on it."

The four of them just managed to cram into Eugene's rebuilt Volkswagen bug. Good thing the androids liked close and closer. Eugene had the stubby hood of the car in the driveway when a mini-van blocked the way. Rodney reached for the gun that Mulder had given him when they parted. It was legal now. He had registered it, surprised to find that he no longer had any record of arrests. Serendipity had taken a liking to him after he met Mulder.

Romeo's husky voice said, "It is Anne. Let us out so we may greet her."

The androids scrambled out of the car, as a big framed, long faced woman dressed in old jeans, a Pendleton shirt, and dog hair climbed out of the mini-van. Two huge mounds of fur also bounded out.

Romeo and Jules embraced the woman. She had tears running down her face. "I thought they killed you! And it would have been all my fault! I knew I shouldn't have registered the dogs for that show!"

"Arroooooo....pant....woo....arroo!" howled the dogs who executed play bows, wiggled sideways, fell on their backs comically and generally acted as if they had found their best friends.

Romeo assured the woman, "They would have found us eventually anyway. We are safe."

Jules said nothing except some muffled words uttered to the bouncing fur-balls as he knelt embracing the smaller dog, his face buried in the silver mane ringing her neck.

Rodney said, "Hi, I'm Rodney Lange and this is Eugene Sands, my partner. You must be Anne."

"Anne North. Where were you taking my guys?"

Rodney said, "Home. We work at the shelter. Romeo and Jules came in for help, but they can't be with each other. No couples. So, hell, one of the volunteers talked us into bringing them to our apartment. I know how I'd feel if someone said I couldn't be with Eugene."

Anne North smiled affectionately at the androids, both now greeting the dogs. She said, "And I didn't program that either. The crèche said they were defective."

Rodney said, "Um, I think we should talk. We need some answers."

Some time later, all of them sat around the living room of Rodney and Eugene's apartment, eating Linzer cookies and drinking tea. The malamutes looked longingly at the treats, but were in stays at the feet of their mistress. Huge pink tongues lolled out of sharp-toothed mouths. Heavily furred tails thumped on the carpet. Dark almond shaped eyes carefully watched for falling crumbs.

Rodney cautiously said, "Anne, you don't seem the type to buy something that might be a sentient being."

Anne blushed fiercely and said, "I'm not. It's daddy. Daddy, to put it bluntly, is a creep. He works for some government operation that I'm not supposed to know about. He and my mother divorced when I was young. A few years ago, Mom died and he came to the funeral. Last year, he insisted that he wanted to give me something unique for my birthday. It sounded horrible, but I thought I could do sort of a puppy mill thing. You know get in and expose them."

Rodney blinked. For a moment, Anne's voice sounded a lot like Mulder's.

Anne said, "Only once I had Romeo and Jules, I was afraid that the awful place would hurt them if I went to the press. Then the recall notice came and I ran with them. New name and everything. Now I don't know what to do. All I know is that my mother told me that she left dad because he was involved in something unbearable. She said she knew he was a fanatic about his work, but had found something out that made her leave him. I think she was frightened by him."

Anne looked at Rodney and though she didn't seem like the type of person who would be easily intimidated, Rodney thought that she looked as if she was one hair short of being scared out of her wits.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

Mac Brown followed behind Allison as she went out to her car and climbed in.

Mac Brown got in the passenger seat and she drove to her home, a small apartment with two rooms and a small kitchen. When they were inside, she turned to him. "Well, this is it. Nothing fancy, just effective." She smiled.

There were several law books and legal journals spread out on the coffee table. She sat down on the couch, offering her hand to him. "Want to sit down? It's been a long day..."

Mac Brown wasn't tired. The superior fuel made him feel as if a nimbus of energy should surround him. But Allison had said sit. He froze for a moment confused. She had also said he didn't have to obey her. Instead of taking her hand, Mac Brown sat on the couch and lifted the foot that rested on the table to his lap. The pretty man who loved the human who looked like Mac Brown had rubbed his partner's feet. Rodney appeared to like this very much.

Mac Brown dropped Alison's shoes and rubbed her instep. He concentrated on her expression and repeated the movements that made her sag back with a moan of enjoyment

Allison looked at him curiously as he moved her foot to his lap. Does he *want* to do this, or does he feel he *has* to?

It had been a long time since a man had rubbed her feet. She leaned her head back and smiled. "You're too good to me," she murmured.

After a moment, Mac Brown realized that he was giving pleasure and it did not hurt him at all.

She sighed. "Mac, are you happy doing this? I don't want you to feel obligated..."

She groaned again. After being on her feet in courtrooms all day, it felt really good. So why question it?

Allison relaxed into his massage. He seemed pleased. She was so tired... so tired. As he kept rubbing her feet, she felt herself drifting away into sleep. The last thing she thought of was how she felt more comfortable with Mac than she felt with most human beings. His touch made her feel safe, which was something she hadn't felt in a long time.

She slept. Mac Brown carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed covering her with a multi-colored quilt.

--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--

On to Chapter 7

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