The Game 7
Edited by Karen Leigh
Anne North studied Rodney Lange. Was this the face on which her dear friends, Romeo and Jules, were based? She smiled as she saw the tawny, hazel eyed lover take the man's hand. What if the very nature of Rodney, his capacity for love had been written into the core of the Mac27s? Anne remembered her mother's funeral. She had felt so alone. Her mother had not only been her only family, but her closest friend. They shared everything together, their love of dogs, their solitary nature, and their regrettable taste in men.
All Anne knew about her father was her mother's comment that he had seemed glamorous and powerful at the time, but was a man "Who had no honor. A man whom she must avoid at all costs." When the minister had dismissed the congregation, a large man in a very expensive suit had approached. Anne thought it was an AKC steward that she had not met for some reason. Her mother's one involvement in politics was through her interest in dogs. Irene North had been a fanatic. Deeply involved in showing, she was one of the rare fanciers whose social conscience looked beyond her chosen breed. Her particular mission was to get the AKC to pull the registration from puppy milled purebred dogs and close down the loathsome farms. Anne had celebrated her eighteenth birthday by going along on a raid on a puppy mill. And she had been happy. At last allowed into the sacred mission of Mom's life.
"I'm Caleb King," the man had said, extending a plump and soft hand.
Anne automatically had shaken the hand, afterwards wanting to wipe the moist slimy feel on her skirt.
At her puzzled look, the man said, "Your father..."
Anne had wanted to run out of the funeral home, but she had remained polite, finally agreeing to meet the man for coffee later.
After that meeting, Anne had avoided the man except for a brief puzzling meeting two years ago. He had insisted that he had a very "Special" gift for her. Which led to a visit to the "Crche" and to Romeo and Jules.
The odd thing was that Anne never saw Caleb King after that. An attorney had contacted her and she learned that she had inherited a great deal of money, a house, a controlling interest in a racetrack, and a safety box that held nothing but computer discs. Discs encrypted to a point where her best computer savvy pal could not even open them to discover their operational platform. She also learned that she had lost a stepmother and half siblings she never knew. All horribly burnt in what was described as a mass killing. An event that somehow never hit the national papers....
Anne wondered if she should mention the computer discs? Could they have anything to do with the Mac 27s?
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Allison still slept and it was still dark. Mac Brown read Shakespeare, Bullfinch's Mythology, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, The Persian Boy, To Kill a Mocking Bird, and The Vampire Lestat. He read every book he could find in the shelves. Stacked on a bottom shelf, he found some books that were more like the thing called a note pad on the table. These books were called zines. Some of the stories scared him, reminding him of Master, but some made him smile as he thought of Romeo and Jules.
And Mac Brown read poetry. And he discovered a wondrous thing. Words could be like chocolate, rich, many flavored and stimulating. Allison was poetry, he thought. He would tell her that when she woke.
Allison awoke with a start, her heart trip-hammering in her chest, and echo of her scream ricocheting in her brain. She'd been dreaming of Jake again. Of the way he would hit her, and yell at her. Of never breaking free. In the dream, which she'd had regularly since finally escaping Jake two months ago (with help from Eugene, Rodney, and Amelia), Jake found her no matter where she went. She ran from town to town but could never escape him. As dreams tend to go, she always ended up being overtaken, overpowered...and just as Jake reached to pull down her pants his face would morph into her father's. She always woke up screaming. [No. Don't think about that.] But lately she has been shown fragments of memories, shards of consciousness, poking through time, taunting her with fleeting glimpses. Smells. Sensations. Catching her breath, she sat up, knowing she would not sleep again that night. She looked at the clock. 4:00 AM. Almost time for work anyway... she always got up at 5.00 A.M. She slipped on her Cat In the Hat slippers and padded into the living room, momentarily surprised to see Mac there. Then she remembered. He was still reading, and as the light from the lamp illuminated his skin she had to remind herself that he wasn't human. He certainly looked it.
"Mac? I... can't sleep. I'm going to make some tea and get ready for work. Do you want any tea?"
She put on a pot of water to boil, then went to sit by him. "How's your reading going?" She took in the pile of books around him on the table. "You read all these? I'm... wow. I wish I could read that fast!"
"I am a very fast reader," Mac Brown answered. "I have learned many things from these books. You are one who practices law?
She smiled thinly and picked up a journal with an article on assets forfeiture law. "I have to represent this guy in court today... he's losing his home because of these damn forfeiture laws. And, I mean, he didn't... the evidence was so obviously planted..." Allison began to read, taking notes on a steno pad on the table.
The water began to boil, and she walked over to make the tea.
Mac Brown said, "Interesting that your client must lose his home." Mac tapped one of the casebooks and said, "The 9th circuit decision, State of Maryland versus Bill Johnson does not apply?"
Allison mind flipped through the pages of half remembered precedents and teaching decisions long etched into her brain. "Why, yes, yes it would," she said, awed. "How did you..." her eyes fell on the book, as understanding dawned. My God...
His mind still swiftly processing all the information, Mac Brown said, "I have learned something of great interest. I found it in this book." He tapped the wonderful book and said, "Haines and those claiming under him, notwithstanding the not giving Bond as aforesaid; and that the same Beulah is entitled to her Freedom under the said Manumission against the said Caled Haines, and all claiming under him; and do order her the said Beulah to be delivered up from out of the Custody of the said Esther Barber and others, in which she hath been illegally detained."
Recognizing the passage, and the exhilaration in Mac's voice, Allison smiled, nodding vigorously. "Go on."
Still caressing the precious book, Mac Brown added, " And by virtue of the power and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated States and parts of States are, and henceforward shall be, free; and that the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said persons"
Allison waited.
Mac Brown said, "Slavery is against the law. I do not belong to you, Allison. I am free."
Allison felt her eyes brim with tears of joy. "Yes, yes... you are free. You don't belong to anyone..."
Mac Brown saw that Allison was happy with his words. He went across the room to her and offered his hands. "I am free and you, Allison, are poetry. You make my heart happy."
Allison blushed and took his hands. "Poetry? Me? No... but you..."
His hands felt nice in hers, and she rubbed them slowly. "I thank you for saying I make you happy. You make me happy, too, Mac." She smiled, and then turned away, blushing.
"What do you like for... ah. Honey. What is good... fuel for you?" She reached over to prepare the tea, doing so as she talked.
"I am reluctant to leave you here. I'm afraid someone will try to take you, or hurt you." She didn't know if the androids had locator chips in them or anything. "Not that I'm expecting anyone. But... in DC... things can be a little...unpredictable."
She handed Mac his tea as she said that, and almost spilled it, as her cat jumped down from the refrigerator.
"Oh, Sappho..." Allison groaned, rolling her eyes.
The animal life form frightened Mac Brown when it leaped down. However, Allison addressed it by name so it must be a friend. Mac watched it lace around Allison's ankles as if trying to trip her. He was utterly fascinated. Next to Allison, he had never seen anything so beautiful. He put the tea with honey aside to study the phenomenon.
Mac squatted to have a better look and the creature came over to speak to him. "MMMErrrrooow?" it asked.
Mac frowned. The creature did not speak English. However, he recognized the frustrated tone in its voice as it repeated its command. "Meerroww!"
Just then the phone rang, causing Allison to jump out of her skin. [No one calls at this time...] She reached for the phone as if it might bite her.
"Yes?" she said shakily.
"Hey, you little bitch. You thought you were so clever, didn't you?" Jake sneered.
Allison trembled at his voice. [How the *hell* had he gotten this number? How in the holy Hell...] She took hold of the counter to steady herself. [Well, Ally-girl, he got it --]
Jake said, "What did I tell you? That I would always find you. You and your little pansy friends there..."
[Eugene... Rodney...]
"I'm right outside your house, Allison. Want a ride to work?"
Allison sank to the floor, all color drained from her face. She looked at Mac Brown. "Oh... oh my god..." She tried to slow her breathing as she began to panic. "He ... he... he's right outside..." [Come on, girl. Now's the time to get a grip. Think!] She looked at Mac, willing her breathing to slow. Seeing him, she felt stronger, safer. [Odd. Usually -- ]
She scrambled to her feet, nodding to Mac. "Out the back door. Now. Silently. We'll eat when we get there." She looked out the window onto the street. Sure enough, the dented Pinto was there. Allison had long since developed a habit of sleeping fully clothed. She grabbed her knapsack and her trench coat.
Mac heard the intensity in the woman's voice. Subtle changes in her body chemistry produced a smell he recognized as fear. He did not know what a "Jake" was, but he suspected it was something like his former master. Allison tugged at him and made him follow her. The small being twitched its tail and stood in his way. He scooped it up, sensing a bad thing was happening. Allison didn't even seem to notice his action.
"We'll get tea and that sort of thing there. Right now, we have to get to the shelter. That was Jake, my very violent ex-boyfriend." She shivered and ran to her car. Climbing inside, she waited for Mac Brown to get in. "He threatened Eugene and Rodney. Closest thing to family I got..." She started the car and peeled out, down a side street. She drove as fast as she could to Eugene and Rodney's house, and ran to the door, checking to see if Mac Brown had followed.
Mac Brown saw that the woman was very afraid. She only said a few hurried words as she drove at a speed that Mac Brown's newfound knowledge told him was against the law.
Mac Brown didn't know the dwelling to which they went, but he sensed his kind inside. Ah, the lovers...he was glad. Romeo and Jules were very clever. Mac Brown sensed he had a problem. He adored Allison. Harm must not come to her. Yet the man who had owned him didn't take chances.
Mac Brown 'looked" inside and saw that the Asimov override was still in place. Three rules that should have been innocent.
1. A robot may not injure a human being, or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm.
2. A robot must obey the orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law.
3. A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.
She leaned on the doorbell. "Please be awake, please hear me," Allison whispered under her breath. She jumped as a car turned onto the street. Luckily, it wasn't Jake's. But it could have been. You must be slipping up, girl.
But Master had used the program that fixed the laws into an override over a Mac 27s natural inclinations to torture Mac Brown. Truly, Mac had humbly accepted this until now. Killing was wrong. What the master did to him was wrong also, but Mac Brown didn't want to become a creature like him. Now, however, Mac Brown had a new mission. Allison must be protected. He would ask Romeo and Jules to remove the Asimov override chip.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Rodney stumbled out into the living room a moment after hearing the frantic knocking at the door. His eyes felt welded together. His lips felt swollen. Probably were. Hearing the Mac27s make love had been inspiring. Eugene and he hadn't gotten much sleep, not that Rodney regretted that.
To his surprise, Eugene pushed past him with a snarl. Eugene had Rodney's gun in his hand. Rodney's lover said, "From now on, we don't open the door unarmed. We have put ourselves in the path of the hurricane, Rodney."
Great, so much for the calm in which they had been living recently. Romeo and Jules stirred from the bed, swiftly getting to their feet. They went blank faced for a moment and said, "It is Mac Brown."
Rodney noted that Anne North had emerged from a sleepy tumble of dogs and woman on the floor. She was also armed. Rodney snorted and said, "Jeeeessuss, put away the heat, Butch and Etta. I think it's more of us good guys..."
Allison turned and looked at Mac behind her. She heard dogs barking inside and wondered what was going on... it sounded like an entire kennel. Hearing shouts, she wondered if Jake had somehow beaten her to the punch... so to speak.
She noticed Mac Brown held Sappho in his arms, and smiled at him gratefully. In her rush to leave the house, she had forgotten her.
She slipped an arm around his waist and kissed him gratefully.
Anne scrambled to put away the dogs. She had insisted on bringing in the crates last night. Romeo and Jules had carried them in and set them together on one side of the cramped living room. With the hide-a-bed down, the crates, two Mac27s, and the three humans, there was hardly walking room.
Rodney peeked out the view hole and saw Allison. Mac Brown was behind her holding a cat. Rodney reacted to this with, "Anne, make damn sure those dog crates won't open. Allison brought Sappho...her cat."
Anne looked offended and said, "My dogs are perfectly quiet in their crates! And they like cats."
Eugene snickered and said, "Just like I like pickles."
Anne snapped the second crate shut and said, "Some people are intimidated by their size. They're just sweethearts. The worst watchdogs in the known world."
Rodney noticed that Eugene hadn't put away the gun. His lover was very paranoid. He'd had some exciting and troubled times on his way to the bottom and back again.
Rodney opened the door and was greeted by Allison's hurried voice saying, "Guys, he found me. I don't know how but he did... and he... you..." She shook her head as if to clear it. "He mentioned your names in a threatening way. I'm not sure you're safe here."
Rodney knew what she meant and how she felt. Until the police arrived to question him and tell him that Paul Coleman was dead, he had never felt safe. They cleared Rodney who had been in class when his "owner" had been killed, but never found the killer. Too bad, Rodney would have loved to send the author of his deliverance flowers, chocolates, hell; he'd have done a farewell performance in the sack if called for. Rodney knew all about being a victim. Hell, if he would ever let Jake or anyone abuse someone in front of him!
Rodney said, "Come in. It's safe. Have a look at Eugene. He does know how to use that thing."
As Allison came in, she gazed uncertainly at Anne North. Rodney said, "Allison, this is Romeo and Jules' friend, Anne North. She found us last night as we pulled out of the shelter."
Allison glanced at Romeo and Jules then narrowed her eyes at Anne. Anne reacted by bristling. Romeo and Jules braced their friend protectively. Even the malamutes stopped their panting to peer at the strangers.
Mac Brown handed the cat to Allison. He marched over to Romeo and Jules. He announced, "We must talk. I am in need of modification."
Startled, Allison took Sappho and put her on her shoulder. "Mac, modifications? What are you... we don't have time for this! Look, you don't understand!" she said, plaintively. He's probably going to come bursting in that door any second. And when he does..."
Rodney shut the door. Eugene went to get the shoulder holster for the gun. He shot Rodney a look and said, "Look, if that asshole, Jake, shows up; he's not messing with anyone."
Allison snorted. She knew he meant well, but realistically... Jake was a real bruiser. She knew he could snap her neck with one hand. He almost had a few times... She looked at Eugene apologetically, glad, for once, that he was as paranoid as he was. [But Jake has one, too...]
Rodney sank onto the hide-a-bed. He flopped backwards and said to the roof. "Why do I feel that I have totally lost control of this situation?"
Allison looked at him, alarmed. "Look. People. Are you not hearing me?"
She looked at Anne. "I know this must be quite a surprise... my ex-boyfriend is crazy and he's after me, and so now no one I know is safe. I... feel so guilty that I brought him into Eugene and Rodney's life... but..." She sighed and looked at Mac Brown, who was urgently talking to Romeo and Jules.
She sighed. They didn't get it... how could she make them understand? I don't know, but you'd better figure it out --
Just then, the cat leapt out of Alison's hands and on top of the dog crates...
"Sappho!" Allison scolded. "Hey!"
One of the dogs barked, while the other was fairly oblivious to the Siamese on their crates. She sniffed at the dogs through the crates.
And someone with a serious case of impatience kicked at the apartment door...
Allison jumped, and froze, looking at Eugene, who stood there with his gun. She quickly turned to Rodney. Shit! Oh damn...
She looked at Mac Brown. "Go on, now... out the back..." she said nervously, although it would plainly be impossible to evacuate the apartment before the door gave in, the way it was being pounded upon. For D.C., it wasn't a very strong door...
She turned, a trapped look in her eyes. "At least go into the other room...you don't need this. Eugene, lose the gun! No telling what he'll do..."
CR-A-CK!! The door crashed open, and Jake stood in the doorway, gun in hand.
"Hello, Allison," he said, a feral and predatory smile on his lips. "You aren't... avoiding me, are you?" He stalked toward her.
She gulped, automatic fear response setting her heart racing and adrenaline flowing. Fight or flight? She was 5'2 and 95 pounds to his 6' and 240 pounds. Tough choice...
She backed into a dog crate. Jake came towards her, gun up. She shook her head violently, as if to deny what she saw.
Jake turned and saw Eugene with the gun. He smirked, and grabbed Allison, holding her in front of himself like a shield.
"I don't think you have the guts to use that," Jake said. "But you never know with those things - they go off accidentally way too often."
Allison struggled futilely in Jake's grasp, and then apparently gave up. Maybe he'll make a mistake... then you can slip away.
Jake smiled. "That's better..."
Allison looked at Eugene, trying to tell him her plan with her eyes, trying to be brave and think rationally. But a few years with this guy, and she slipped back into the 'learned helplessness' mind state. The best she could hope for now was that she could somehow numb herself to the outside world.
Jake lifted her over a shoulder. "Come on, Allison. Let me take you out to breakfast. What time do you have to be in court today?"
"Nine," she answered in a lifeless voice. "Assets forfeiture case. The guy was framed, but Mac Brown figured out a way to..."
Jake narrowed his eyes, seeming only then to notice the other occupants of the apartment. Deciding that he didn't want to try dealing with all of them, Jake started back toward the door, holding Allison in such a way as to shield himself. "This doesn't concern you," he said. "I'm only taking what's mine."
Allison shook her head. "Please..."
"Aww, don't worry, Allison," he cooed. "I'll get you to work in plenty of time. Just want to take you to breakfast... first..." He went out the door, Allison in tow.
Jules had been watching with admiration as Romeo worked on Mac Brown's Asimov-box.
When the huge and threatening human entered, Mac Brown hopelessly begged, "Help her."
Jules, the gentle one, always protected by his lover and Anne's baby, moved with blinding speed. He had been timid from the day he was enabled. However, he saw the love and distress on Mac Brown's face. He knew the agony his brother Mac 27 had endured and now, now to lose the first creature that he had ever loved or trusted...
Jules augmented out a window and moved at incredible speed to the front. The malfunctioning human, Jake, was still focused on the others as he backed down the stairs with Alison. Jules grabbed at the gun. As he felt the human lose his grip, he heard the inner mechanisms work. The sound was huge. Jules felt a dissonance in all his parts. His damage control circuits sent warnings that disrupted his thoughts. His neural transmitter fluid spilled out of him. His extremities were no longer sending data. No one had ever hurt him until now, but he knew this was bad. This was very, very bad. Jules cried out as he fell, "Romeo! Romeo!" But even as he fell, he ripped the gun from the man's hand...
"'Romeo?'" said Jake incredulously, still stunned. He did not notice Jules reaching for the gun with an iron grip.
Allison looked at the fallen Mac 27. "No... no, no."
In the melee, Allison managed to break away from Jake, and ran to Jules' side.
Jake had started to turn back toward his car, when something caught his eye. He looked at the man falling to the ground. Was it a man? With *green* fluid? What the... his eyes widened, and he shook his head.
Allison said, "Jake, we have to help him. Please..."
"'Him'?" Jake sneered. "Whatever that is, it's not a human..."
Jake looked confused, and a bit frightened as he walked back to his car. "Lunch, then," he called to Allison over his shoulder. "We need to talk."
He drove off.
Allison held Jules close. "Jules, Jules... can you stand up at all?"
She saw him try, and shake his head. She stroked his wet hair. "What... can I... do?" She didn't know what Romeo would do without him, and felt very badly that he had been hurt in trying to help her. She gazed at him.
"Actually... Allison..."
"Yes?" Allison said eagerly.
"Romeo will know I am hurt and will come to help me. Meanwhile, you can do a few small repairs - I have the tool for it inside, here." He tapped his shirt.
Allison stared at him. "Wha - I don't know how... what if I screw up, and make it worse?" She looked doubtful.
Jules said, "I will talk you through it. If you trust me, and listen to me, I can talk you through it."
Allison nodded.
Jules lifted up his shirt, and looked up at her. "Now, Allison... listen to me. This is what I need you to do..."
She began to follow his instructions, feeling very nervous and hoping Romeo and Mac would get there soon. I'll have to ask Mac if there is another name he would prefer...
Allison stopped, frowning. Jules had said this was how it was done...
Allison turned at the sound of approaching feet.
Romeo sensed his lover's shock even as the sound of the shot cascaded reactions through the room. He withdrew the Asimov chip and crushed it in his hand. He ran through the room, flinging the human aside that tried to stop him.
Outside Allison Meridith-Jones crouched over his lover, trying to repair him. As he arrived, Jules stopped speaking. A ratcheting sound began as all of Jules' limbs twitched. A high-pitched sound emerged from his mid-chest.
Allison stood a few feet away, watching. She felt terribly guilty - Jules had been trying to help her, after all, and now...
She shook her head. "What - I'm sorry, I -- "
The bullet had damaged Jules' central pump. It no longer spread the neural fluid through all his parts. Romeo gently moved the human woman aside. He knelt confirming his fear. Softly, he gathered up his love who now lay silent
Allison stood beside him, looking at Jules with concern. "Can you... save him?"
But Romeo just walked away, as if he never saw her. He probably hadn't, Allison reflected.
With a heavy heart, Allison turned to follow him into the house.
Romeo uttered a wail as he walked. It rose like a banshee cry from every part of him. He could not stop it. Jules was all of him. He would sacrifice anything to repair him, but to do so...he must return to the most dangerous possible place. He must raid Innobotics to steal a heart for his beloved.
Allison followed Romeo slowly, watching him go into the living room carrying Jules. She hung her head. She knew better than to lead Jake here... but he*knew* how to get here, she reminded herself. That was why she had come...to warn them.
For the moment, all he could do was to lay Jules on the bed where they had played last night. Romeo gathered the still form to him and shuddered in the grip of dissonance... despair...alone, alone, alone for the first time since he had seen the shy sweet face across the room, his lover, his Jules.
She stood watching Jules for a moment, and then walked over to Eugene and Rodney. She couldn't even look at Mac Brown or Anne North.
"God, I am so stupid... so sorry," she said. "I didn't mean for this to happen..." She looked at Romeo across the room. "Is there..." She looked at her bag she'd brought with her... case files, books... "I've got to go to court in a while. I... feel so sick. I..." She sank onto the hide-a-bed, holding her head in her hands.
Mac Brown crossed the room when he saw Allison collapse onto the bed. If he were human, he knew he would have felt guilty. Logic however told him that there was not much he could have done. Now, however, he knew that he was free to act. He sensed danger about this Jake-human; Mac sensed that the man was as sick, twisted, and cruel as Mac Brown's master had been. Mac put his arms around Allison and said, "You did not cause this."
Allison was pleasantly surprised at his touch. She smiled and leaned into him a little
Allison shook her head. Mac Brown thought and asked, "Did I cause my master's behavior? Did I ask for him to torture me for his amusement?" Mac Brown waited for an answer.
"No, Mac, you didn't... but... Jules is hurt because he went to help me."
Rodney snarled, "Mac Brown, Allison, knock it off. We're a pretty little club here of victims, but I, for one, am sick of the role. It's time we turned the tables."
Allison stiffened, and nodded. Rodney was right. She played a good victim, but it was time for a change. Besides, she couldn't help anyone if she couldn't even help herself.
Eugene chimed in, "This is a cause for desperate measures. We need to get to some place safe. Rodney, we should all go to Skip Brule's and regroup. His place could stand off an army."
Rodney nodded. He said, "Mac, Allison, Eugene's buddy has an air taxi service, enough fire power to overthrow a small South American country, and he also has a friend who could hack into the Pentagon and get out without a trace."
Allison smiled. "Sounds like a good friend to have."
Mac Brown cherished Rodney's words. Yes, it was time to stop being frightened. It angered him to see his brave Allison paralyzed by that man's assault on them. He said, "Trey-Trey MacDuff and Mac Smith are also in danger. Eugene, you must bring them also to this safe place. I will go with Allison to court. I will protect her from Jake."
Allison looked at Ma Brown. "Are you... are you sure you want to go? Jake hurt Jules, he could... you're sweet, but I don't... want you to risk yourself..."
Rodney remarked, "The Cowardly Lion has found the courage that was inside him all along. Those are very good ideas, Mac Brown."
Allison looked at Rodney. Outvoted again?
Mac Brown rejoiced in his newfound friends. He hugged his ... Allison was more than a friend. He looked sadly at Romeo. He had envied Romeo and Jules, but now he saw how vulnerable love made you.
Allison hugged Mac Brown back. "We will help Jules," she vowed. "He'll be all right..."
Romeo lay his beloved down on the bed. He stood and said, "I need to speak to One. I sense that he also finds reason to go to the place of our greatest danger."
Do you know where he is?" Allison asked.
Anne North chimed in, "I'll drive you. Rodney and Eugene, you take my van. Take my dogs with you and Allison's cat."
Eugene nodded. He said, "Hold on while I print out maps to Brule's place. We should all meet there."
Mac Brown stroked Allison's hair. His delicate sensors told him how soft it was. For the first time, he was happy about his turbo charged neural net. He felt the pleasure of this touching even as he experienced fear for Jules and worry for Allison. He looked at Allison again, hoping to see the courage that had persuaded him to live.
Allison kissed Mac Brown's cheek. "This was a blow, but we're still standing." She stroked his hair. "If we give up now, they win." She could see a spark in his eyes that gave her hope, also. She pulled him close again. "No one will hurt you, or your brothers, again... between cases today I can draw up a petition to have Mac 27s declared people, and free beings, as well."
She knew some would call her crazy for doing so, but she felt in her heart that these Mac 27s were just as human as she. If humans had created them, so they had created them so perfectly in their own image as to have emotions, and consciousness, and feelings... individuals all.
She looked up as the others began to get ready to go to Skip's. "We'll meet you there after work," she said. "Just let him know to expect us!" Allison laughed, remembering some of Eugene's survivalist friends that he'd introduced her to. "Don't want to wind up full of buckshot."
Having sent Anne, map in hand, and Romeo in one direction to find One and Allison in another, Eugene climbed into the van, which now held, two malamutes, one badly damaged android, one cat, and his lover.
First stop was the shelter. Rodney went in to get Trey-Trey MacDuff and Mac Smith. Eugene tapped his hands on the wheel. He was nervous, feeling as strung out as he had been in the bad old days. Maybe it was the idea of hanging out with Skip again. Skip had done some time around the same period that Eugene had hit a different kind of bottom. Of course, Eugene had been a little fish, a buyer and a user whereas Skip had retailed major amounts of drugs. Skip had been smart enough to invest and launder his money in ways so convoluted that even the IRS couldn't pin much on him. He had done a couple years for holding a small amount of recreational pot. But Brule had got religion inside, not Christian religion, but he had converted to Bokononism. Yeah, Kurt Vonnegut's mythical religion. Brule even had himself confirmed as a minister of the First Granfallon Church of Bokonon. Tax deductible, tithing even. Eugene pondered the fact that in this life there were little fishes and sharks. Brule was a grinning, sometimes kind shark.
Rodney finally came out with Trey-Trey Smith and a still protesting Mac Smith. Woebegone faces peered out of the shelter. Rodney grumbled, "Mac Smith didn't want to come. He's got a fan club you wouldn't believe."
Mac Smith had somehow acquired a complete chef suit including a white crowned hat. He still had a bit of flour dabbed on his nose. Mac Smith said, "They need me. I am magic in the kitchen. They love me."
Rodney shot back, "Right, but they won't love you if those men in black come in shooting to get you. You want to live. Get in!"
Trey-Trey said, "Well, I'm tired of the shelter. My master is still alive in the hospital. I want to go home."
Eugene sighed and said, "Well, you can't go home until this is settled."
Rodney climbed into the passenger seat. He snapped his seat belt, settled back and said, "You know lately my life has been making delirium tremens pale in comparison."
Eugene patted his lover's knee. "I know exactly what you mean."
Rodney asked, "Do you think that Skip still has the hots for me?"
Eugene nodded, but said, "But, hey, he should find all these cute copies of you distracting."
Rodney shrugged and said, "Yeah, and if not, I've handled unwanted admirers before."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Allison grabbed her bag, and smiled as she walked to her car. Mac walked beside her. It really was a nice day, and she was determined not to let Jake ruin it. She drove to the courthouse, and parked. She walked up the stairs, went through the metal detector, nodding to the guards, and continued on to her office. It was down a short corridor, and marked "Allison Jones, Public Defender."
When she got inside, she hung up her coat and sat at her desk, offering Mac the chair next to her desk. "I'm not sure how interesting this will be for you... you can always read books though." As her house had been, so her office was lined with books.
He began reading through her briefs for the day, and a little while later a former client came in to thank her, giving her a tray of brownies. Allison grinned. "Thank you."
She gave the brownies to Mac, knowing how well he loved chocolate. She took one for herself, and finished the morning reading. "Holmes case, Judge Smith." She sighed. Smith was a hard nose, one of the zero-tolerance types. She sighed, and prepared to face him. "But it's not all black and white..."
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Now, to get to Skip's place, you had to drive to Henson's Creek Golf Course and keep going. About five miles past the course, you would see a sign that said, "Private-Keep Out" Fifty yards in you came to a gate with a security camera. Eugene got out and said, "So I said good-bye to government, and I gave my reason: That a really good religion is a form of treason"
"Foma" said the challenge.
Eugene replied, "It's clear as mud, Skip. Come on, let us in."
Skip laughed. It was a manic, booming sound. The laugh of a man who woke up one day and found out the world had gone mad and loved it that way. Two ninja clad men leapt out of trees.
One of Anne's malamutes uttered a heartfelt yodel. Rodney covered his face. He said, "Skip might be able to keep us safe from the men in black, but who is going to keep us safe from him?"
Eugene shrugged.
The guards, a total of six of them, searched the van, scanned the van, used bomb sniffing bloodhounds over every inch to the consternation of the malamutes and the cat. They were allowed to drive another hundred yards before reaching another perimeter, this one was labelled "The Gate of Hell" A huge picture of Bill Gates, decorated with horns, was painted on the solid metal entrance. It was encircled and marked with a slash. Eugene offered a sickly grin to Rodney and said, "Good old Skip. What a sense of humor."
The final gate parted and they were in a garden like setting. Fountains sparkled in whimsical designs. Various astounding people discoursed or sat in classical boku-maru position, arms supporting them, legs out-thrust as they engaged in ecstatic foot play. A huge sign said, "All religions are foma! This religion is foma."
Rodney said, "Well, at least, Skip believes in truth in advertising."
Skip Brule stepped out on of the main house. He was six foot and seven inches tall and a good four-foot wide. His skin was a truly beautiful coffee au lait. His brown hair was plaited in Rastafarian like kinks to his waist. His yellow slanted eyes held an expression of stoned bliss despite his abstinence from drugs since he had his moment of his vin-dit, the circumstances that had shoved him into the embrace of his faith. He wore a hand painted silk robe, which billowed in full sail behind him. His huge bare feet had purple and gold painted toenails. He wore eight earrings on one side and four on the other. He had the tattoo of a serpent disappearing up one leg and a grape vine up the other.
Skip took in the vision of Eugene, Rodney, Trey-Trey, Mac Smith, an injured Jules, Sappho, and the two malamutes, Aura and Boris. He whispered, "Busy, busy, busy." His broad mouth split in a huge grin; he threw back his massive head and he roared with laughter until tears streaked down his cheeks, until he bent double with his manic chuckling, and finally ended up flat on his back, huge legs kicking with baby-like joy in the air, revealing his alien-head decorated boxer shorts.
Eugene remarked, "Well, I'm glad we caught him in one of his calmer moods."
Mac Smith approved of the human, Skip. When the big human heard the story of Romeo and Jules, he had insisted on helping carry Jules to this quiet and beautiful room that was filled with fountains and many beautiful flowers. Jules lay under a sky light on a stone alter. He had been bathed and now was covered with a silk blanket. He looked as if he was only in a rest cycle. Mac Smith decided to sit shivah with the beloved android.
How strange that human's saw them as looking all the same. To a Mac 27s gaze there were many differences among them, not even counting the adaptations of human costume. Mac Smith for instance had a face, which was one point five centimeters longer than the standard model and two millimeters wider. The conforming machine had been acting up the day he was cast. He had point twenty-six percent fewer eyelashes in length and thickness than the standard model. The end result as Mac Smith saw was a pitifully plain face compared to Mac Brown who was incandescently exciting or Jules with his long thick lashes and the non-standard paperclip length hair. Mac Smith had long accepted that he was not beautiful as some of his kind were. Mr. Gotts, his owner, said the intelligence capacitors in his head were substandard. Mac Smith had accepted his essential worthlessness long ago.
However, Mac Smith had enjoyed the shelter. He had been treated as human. The troubled men who resided there had praised him excessively for the meals that he had prepared. He had enjoyed it much more than at his owner's fine restaurant. His master had claimed credit for every dish that Mac Smith had prepared. Even when Mac Smith joyfully invented a new recipe, Mr. Gotts had said it was the result of his programming. Perhaps that was true, but Mac Smith had loved being complimented.
Thinking about the shelter, Mac Smith began to feel his lack of fuel. Perhaps Skip Brule had a kitchen that needed a cook.
Mac wandered around at random until his sensors led him to the kitchen. It was a large and lovely specimen, but never had Mac Smith seen a place of such chaos. Just as he entered, a large man with a mustache of amazing proportions screamed, "I will not work in this madhouse one moment longer. I quit. I quit at this moment."
Surely enough the big man stomped out. Skip Brule shrugged and said, "Third one this month. Hell, just because meals follow their own rhythm around here."
Mac Smith had automatically begun to put things to rights. He directed the pink-eyed albino youth to wash the greens he had been about to throw still gritty into a large bowl. He lowered the temperature on a large cauldron of soup. He added a small amount of saffron to the rice. He paused the harried blond woman who was about to carve a prime rib that had not yet cooled enough. He looked about him and it was good.
Skip Brule caught him as he began to concoct a chocolate fudge trifle with raspberry sauce. The human grabbed him and kissed both sides of his face. That was very pleasant so Mac Smith moved his mouth to catch the man's next kiss. Mac Smith felt a wonderful sensation. His thermostat seemed to arc up several degrees. His neural pump skipped a beat. He felt beautiful!
Skip Brule seemed to find the kiss rewarding also. He declared, "Hell, if you're a machine! No mere conglomerate of cogs could kiss like that. I think I'm in love."
Mac Smith felt very shy. Did the human mean it?
Skip Brule begin to sing,
"When the sun comes back and the first quail calls,
Follow the drinking gourd.
For the old man is waiting for to carry you to freedom,
If you follow the drinking gourd.
The riverbank makes a very good road,
The dead trees show you the way,
Left foot, peg foot, traveling on
Follow the drinking gourd
Where the great big river meets the little river,
Follow the drinking Gourd.
For the old man is a-waiting to carry you to freedom
If you follow the drinking gourd."
Brule cupped Mac Smith's face when he was done with the booming song. He asked, "Mac Smith, do you want to be free? Do you want to set your people free?"
Now, Mac Smith had really been content in Mr. Gott's restaurant. He didn't consider it such a bad thing to be owned, but now he perceived free must be a very good thing. He tried to nod yes while still in the powerful grip of the human.
Skip Brule said, "That Eugene is always wanting to help everyone. Him, I maybe would help for old times. You and your kind though. Skip Brule is not a man to abide slavery. We will set our heads to thinking and do this thing. But first we eat..."
Mac Smith felt the fire of revolution in his heart. He was ready for great deeds, but first he would make the chocolate fudge trifle. Priorities were priorities.
--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--[o]--
Mulder let himself into his apartment with a weary yawn. The cab Tin Man and he had chosen for their ride home had been a wreck, and had broken down in a remote part of town. Inevitably there hadn't been a sign of another one, and Mulder had forgotten to charge his cell phone, so he'd had to wait patiently while the driver and his android companion had fixed the problem. Now it was the middle of the night, and even Fox had stopped whining to go back to Ricky's.
The android inspected Mulder's living room critically. "I assume you will need to sleep. This area is suitable for my purpose -please vacate it."
Tin Man dropped to his knees and rested his forehead on Mulder's rug, assuming a position similar to that used by Moslems in prayer. There was a loud click and he became motionless.
Mulder, somewhat disgruntled at being ousted from his own living room, nudged him with his foot. There was no response. He shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it on top of the crouching body, sat down on his couch, put his feet up on his brand-new Mac27 footstool and turned on the TV.
It was only after a fruitless few minutes surfing the channels for an old movie worth watching that Mulder noticed his computer was switched on, and he knew for sure it hadn't been that way when he'd left that... no, yesterday morning. His heart, just like slushy romances always aver, leapt. Alex had been here... he must be back from whatever mysterious mission he'd been on for the last few weeks.
//Look around Spooky,// came a tired, but excited voice. //He may have left a note.//
But he'd left more than a note. There in Mulder's bed was another look-a-like, snoring musically. And, unless one of the clones had volunteered for perfect verisimilitude by having an arm removed, this one looked like Alex because it was Alex. Mulder stripped quickly and silently and slithered carefully into the bed, spooning his tired but happily aroused body against his lover's strong back. Kissing him gently on the shoulder, he settled down to sleep.
The morning came soon enough.
Alex Krycek awoke with a start to feel warm breath on the back of his neck, and warm flesh pressed against his spine. Rolling over, lazily, he discovered the sleeping Fox Mulder lying curled loosely alongside him. The clever face was at rest, but Alex could see signs of strain around the luscious mouth, and there were new lines beside his eyes. Something was worrying his beloved, and he would hazard a guess that it wore his face.
He leaned forward to run his tongue over the full lips, jerking away again with a snicker as Mulder's face wrinkled up, before returning to do it again.
It took a few minutes, but Mulder... it was definitely Mulder this time, opened his eyes, and Alex could wait no longer, he claimed the newly awakened man in a kiss that was deep and savage; that spoke of sorrow at separation, and desire.
Mulder gave himself to the kiss, and for a while no words were spoken. It was only as Alex was lying, sweat-bathed and complete atop the strange, ambivalent entity he adored, that he recalled his purpose.
"Maybe you can tell me something about these people that seem to be wearing my face, Mulder. What do you know?"
"Mmm,.I know they don't wear it as well as you, Alex," murmured Mulder, running his fingers down the spine of his perfect lover and wriggling beneath him, the better to enjoy the sensation of Alex pinning him to the bed. Just then, the phone rang, and with a sly grin Alex picked it up and passed it to the grimacing agent. There was a brief conversation and Mulder passed it back for Alex to hang up.
"Scully?" inquired Krycek, lifting an eyebrow.
"More of you - several more," said Mulder, wryly. "I've stalled them for now, they can wait a little so that you and I finish saying hello."
With a heave, Mulder rolled Alex over so that he was on top. "It's been a while, lover. I think my concentration will be hopeless if I don't get a little more R and R first." He straddled Alex's hips, kneeling across him, and rubbed his sticky groin against the matted fuzz around Alex's half-hard cock. "You and I are going to stay here a while longer, if I have to cuff you to the bed, Alex, so you may as well resign yourself to it now." He reached down and took both their cocks in one hand, squeezing gently. "What d'ya say? Are you going to give in gracefully, or do I have to restrain you?"
Krycek laughed at that one.
"You wanna restrain me? Go right ahead, baby, but if you don't, I'll give you something I've been working on for days." He reached out to pull Mulder down and glued his mouth to that of the sultry agent. For a brief interlude there were only rustles and sighs, increasing to gasps as Mulder's hand worked the pair of them, and then Krycek broke free with a moan, fingers clutching Mulder's shoulder.
"Come on, Mulder, I want you on your knees for me."
Mulder snickered, and scooted down the bed until he was level with the evidence of Krycek's arousal, and proceeded to lap at the glistening head.
"If you make me come before I'm inside you, Mulder, you're going to regret it." As ever, Alex's voice was silken soft, but the menace it carried with it was unmistakable.
//Damn, Spooky, let me out of here. This is mine,// panted Fox in Mulder's mind.
//No way... Oh, no... I'm going all the way with this one.// The glee in Mulder's silent voice was unmistakable. //Isn't he grand?//
//Fucking awesome,// agreed Fox with a moan. //Tease him, go on... I like his way of making me sorry.//
Mulder looked up at him and smiled around his mouthful. Alex drew back his open palm and slapped Mulder. For a second, there was only the echo of the crack as his hand hit home, and then Mulder put his hand to his lip and turned to present himself to Krycek, a flush of arousal on his face and chest
//Hit him back! Hit him back!// yelled Mulder's internal tormenter.
Tempting as it was to drive Alex to pummel him into submission, Mulder was aware that work, and the mystery of the clones would call him back in a few hours. A beating from Alex usually left him too sore to move for a couple of days, and left his face looking unpleasantly colorful for several more.
He looked back over his shoulder, caught a drip of blood on his tongue and slowly smiled. "Let's get off of this god-awful wobble-board. I want to concentrate on your dick in my ass, not on a balancing act on this damn life-raft."
He slithered down from the waterbed and knelt beside it, flinching as something sharp dug into his knee. He reached down and retrieved the belt that some careless soul had dumped on the floor, and placed it on the mattress in front of him, then looked up
Krycek was never one to ignore what was offered to him. He took hold of the belt, doubling it and testing it against the top of his thigh a couple of times. Then he uncurled himself and stepped off the bed to stand behind Mulder, savoring the lean body that was presented for his use.
Mulder's eyes followed the belt, a slight twitch of his brows at the sound of the leather slapping Alex's thigh the only sign that he might regret his implied suggestion. He turned his head and shoulders to watch as the assassin moved around him, then looked up at his face, calmly, inscrutably. For once, his thoughts ceased. No voices, no noise, just a white blankness, a hot white flare that roared from his brain and through his body, leaving him trembling, urgent with need.
Mulder couldn't speak, there were no words to express how he desired Alex, how he wanted his lover to demand his submission, his pain. To tell him how he hugged the bruises and aches to himself when Alex was gone, to tell him of the loneliness he felt as they faded and Alex had still not returned.
"You want this?" he asked Mulder, searching his face for signs that he would be willing. He held out the strap, and Mulder extended his tongue, licking the metal tag on the end of it.
Grateful that Alex had found a way for him to signal his willingness, his eagerness to be marked, he gave a shaky smile, and turned away, bending forward to lay his chest on the bed.
Withdrawing his arm, Krycek raised it and lashed Mulder.
Mulder heard the crack of the impact and for an instant wondered if Alex had hit him. Suddenly there was agony, as if a searing metal rod had burnt a line into his skin. With a stifled shriek he flinched upright as a remorseless wave of scorching pain rushed through his ass, leaving a hot throbbing in its wake that pounded with the rhythm of the blood pulsing in his rock hard cock.
A stripe of a red so dark as to look almost black stood out across the white of his buttocks. Red droplets of blood welled along the line of the cut, and Krycek dropped to his knees to lick at the wound before burying his face in the cleft between the kneeling Mulder's cheeks. For a short while he lost himself in the taste and smell of Mulder, sucking at the testes as they dangled between the spread legs, and then running his tongue back to flick it over the man's asshole. As Mulder jerked, Krycek thrust his tongue forward to pierce him.
The feel of Krycek's tongue on his tender damaged skin was like the sandpaper surface of a cat's, rasping across the contused and crushed flesh. It sent a tingling itch through his groin, tightening his balls, twirling round his cock and forcing slow drips of moisture to form at its tip. Then Alex's tongue and lips descended further, leaving a blissful trail in their wake.
Mulder settled himself back onto the mattress feeling his legs relax and spread, as he opened and offered his body to the other man. An insistent licking caressed his sphincter and it parted easily as the velvet hardness of Alex's tongue entered him. He gave himself to the rapture, the hot thrum from his wound, the knowledge that Alex possessed him.
"Fuck me, Alex," he whispered. "Please, now, finish it."
He needed more, however. He needed to feel himself this gorgeous man's master. Straightening up, he made the belt into a loop, and slipped it over Mulder's head, pulling it tight as he places his own cock against Mulder's ass and began to thrust himself in against the G-man.
Mulder's head reared back in surprise as the leather strap clamped round his throat, and he put his hand up to loosen it in vain. There was a nudge at his buttocks and then Alex was inside him, pumping his body with a hot hard dick that stretched him wide as he struggled to suck air into his panting body. Krycek's hips had him pinned against the hard edge of the waterbed, and using the belt to assist himself Alex forced his dick up to the hilt in Mulder's asshole.
Realizing that Alex literally held his life, Mulder made himself stop struggling and braced himself against the mattress with one hand, taking his cock in the other and working it slowly as he waited for Krycek to control his pleasure.
Krycek was buried inside Mulder, and it felt good. He felt powerful, almost godlike as he thrust into the willing flesh. His orgasm built quickly, and he stopped moving for a second or two, desperate to extend the moment.
Mulder was purple in the face as he stroked his own hard and dripping penis.
Krycek eased the tight belt a little, and leaned forward to breathe into Mulder's ear..."Come on now. Come for me, Mulder. Gimme all you've got." His voice was like silk in a wound as it dragged over Mulder's senses, and suddenly slammed inside him, dragging the choke chain tight again.
Krycek was coming. He could feel it happening, and he sank sharp teeth into Mulder's shoulder as he felt the wave of pleasure take him.
Dizzy and disorientated by the lack of oxygen, Mulder's body rocked helplessly with the force of Alex's lunges. All he could do was try to hold himself steady, his fingers clenching desperately into the bed-covers as the sensations washed through him. The exquisite stimulation in his ass, the burning tenderness of his buttocks, his own hand, jerking now with little rhythm, on his engorged shaft, the belt cutting painfully into his throat, the cramp in his chest as his lungs begged for air; the sensations swirled together, merged into a magnificent euphoria that drove from his mind all the danger, all the risk to which he was exposed by his tyrannical lover.
Mulder, beyond gratitude, heaved a last breath into his lungs with an eerie wheeze, and gave a final spasmodic series of yanks to his weeping cock. Then the orgasm gripped him, clamping his gut tightly round Alex's pumping member as the white sperm gushed from his balls. His brain, succumbing finally to the shock of release and oxygen starvation, started to fade, and as the room shrank to a tiny dot and blinked out, Mulder's last thought was how he could thank Alex for this privilege, for his love.
But there was no response from the other man. As Krycek slumped forward, spent, Mulder's body was silent and apparently lifeless beneath him.
As Krycek loosened the restriction around Mulder's neck, he buried his face in the soft hair that grew on his nape. As he became aware of his surroundings again, he realized that there was something amiss.
"Mulder?" He pressed fingers to the pulse behind Mulder's ear, and sought movement, any movement, but there was nothing. With a string of curses in several languages, he flipped Mulder over to lie on his back and placed his cheek beside the unconscious man's ear.
"Mulder?" Louder this time, and then in panic, "Fox, Fox, please don't leave me."
Desperately, Krycek leaned over his lover, and began to apply CPR.
"Don't leave me, Fox. I love you."
With a hoarse gasp the man on the floor stiffened, then curled in on himself in a paroxysm of coughing. Finally regaining his breath, he looked groggily up at his anxious lover and gave a lop-sided grin.
"That was the best yet, Alex-baby." His voice grated painfully. Pointing to his head, he continued, "Mulder's blissed out in here like an amoeba on acid. Fuck him; he never knows when he's going too far. I should have butted in, made you ease up, I didn't mean to scare you."
He reached up to draw Alex down for a kiss. Stretching languidly he murmured against his lover's lips, "Next time give it to me, Ratboy, please." He reached down between his legs, retrieved a smear of the other's semen that was oozing from his ass and brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. "Second hand loving may satisfy Mulder, but I like to be part of the action." He daintily lapped at the viscid liquid and proffered the rest to Alex.
"Now are you going to tell me how you know about all the clones? I shouldn't complain, but it's starting to look like too much of a good thing, and some of them aren't even human." He gave a wicked smile and added, with as much irony as his ruined voice could summon, "I don't know why you and I are calling it 'your' face, Alex. Could be you're a clone too... maybe some wizened member of the consortium let his vanity carry him a little too far? C'mon, tell me. Is there a geriatric version of you behind all this?"
Alex Krycek was stunned. He didn't know whether to kiss his lover, or finish the job he'd started, and choke the shit out of him.
Krycek took the offered hand and moved it to smear the remainder over Fox's lush lips, then pulled him close and kissed him fiercely, probing with his tongue and nipping sharply as he sank himself into the relief that he was feeling. The kiss lasted a very long time, and Krycek ran his hands over Fox, tenderly stroking the areas he had abused only a few moments earlier.
"Frankly, though it pains me to admit this, I don't know. I wonder who could tell us. I've met Ricky in the past, and there's another guy too, Cory, who though he isn't wizened by any means is certainly older than I am, but where we all came from is beyond me. Guess I haven't hacked into the right files yet, baby." He dropped another kiss onto Fox's smiling lips, and laid his head against his shoulder. "I just want to stay here all day. Why do I have to get up and work?"
"I don't want to go anywhere at all. This is just perfect. Let's go and take a shower before the world catches up, lover. And I want to see what you did to Mulder, I feel damn sore." Fox hauled himself to his feet and headed out to the bathroom. "I didn't know you knew Ricky. That'll make life interesting, and freak Mulder. Are you coming? I want to soap you all over and draw little hearts in the suds."
Singing 'Some Enchanted Evening' in a loud and off-key tenor he climbed into the shower and turned on the water.
Krycek laughed. He followed Fox into the bathroom, enjoying the sight of his beautiful lover as he sashayed into the bathroom. He was still feeling a little nervous after the shock that he'd had just a few minutes prior. He didn't want to think about a world where Fox Mulder no longer existed. He had to admit (although he would never have told his lover this) he was totally hooked on Fox Mulder. He'd begun by loving the withdrawn FBI agent, but now he was head over heels with his extrovert, hard living alter ego. He needed him the way a junkie needs a fix. He watched Fox running the shower, and stood back to take in the sight of him as he ran the soap over himself suggestively. When he saw Fox lewdly sliding his hands along his rapidly enlarging dick, he had to join him, had to press against him. He had to murmur, low voiced and desperate, "I love you, Fox."
He quailed.
"But I don't love your singing."
At last, defeated, he pulled Fox to him and glued his mouth to that of the would-be matinee idol. He had to shut him up, and it seemed as though this was the only way.
Fox gave himself up to Alex's mouth and probing tongue with the joy of a lost soul finding Jesus. The hot water sluicing down and the slide of Krycek's body against his soaped skin made him fell as though he was slithering over a tide of warm satin. His cock was pressed hard between their bodies, pulled and pumped as their hips writhed together.
Lathering his hands, he massaged Krycek's buttocks, sliding his fingers down the crack and slipped one of them easily into his lover's soapy asshole. He pulled him still closer, grinding his cock into Alex's groin, and broke the kiss, moving his head lower to suck and lick at the other's neck. Alex was pliant under his hands and mouth, his body following Fox's. "On your knees, Alex," he growled, reaching over to slow the stream of water. "Time for you to make amends for what you just did to Mulder."
Krycek gave Fox a long, level look. The man was worth it. He was flushed and hard - a wet dream. Wordlessly, he knelt, sliding his mouth down over the lean chest with its fuzz, and across the muscles of his stomach until he could bury his face in the soapy wetness of Fox's groin.
Fox looked down at the slick, seal-pelt scalp, and melted into a sea of bliss. He hadn't expected his cruel lover to submit... a threat was the least he'd get, a slap was the usual response when he got uppity. He didn't dare to push his luck by guiding Alex's head, by forcing him closer or thrusting his cock into his mouth. He ran his hands over his own chest, pinching at his nipples mercilessly as he savored the slow, liquid trickle of Krycek's mouth and tongue down his quivering torso.
He looked up at Fox, and his own belly thrilled to see him standing watching. Deliberately, he mouthed the soapy penis, licking at it with tiny cat licks that made it twitch.
There was Alex's tongue, its delicate pink shade seeming maidenly, chaste, as it glided over the livid blood-pulsing bulk of his cock-head. The tongue darted, teasing, probing, and Fox's dick seemed to dance with it, to flirt, encouraging the agile little muscle to stroke and caress the clumsy bobbing shaft.
As Fox's face grew dreamy and filled with need, he opened his lips and took him inside, sucking him down to fill his throat, his eyes fixed on Fox as he did so.
Fox dug his nails into his own chest, unknowingly scoring deep marks as he watched his cock slowly disappear inside Alex's mouth, more and more, until he was totally consumed by his demon lover.
Alex's hands gripped the other's buttocks, pulling him tight against the suction of his talented mouth.
Suddenly there was a pounding on the door. Krycek, ever vigilant, leapt from his knees and with a snarl, dashed from the bathroom in search of his gun.
Fox stood for an instant, stunned. Hell, things had been going so well. Damn, he wasn't about to have the first decent fuck he'd had in weeks ruined by Jehovah's Witnesses, or Mr. Spotnitz from down the hall in search of his pet hamster again... though he still felt a twinge of guilt about the fate of the last one his neighbor had lost.
Distaining the towels on the rail, or the silk robe hanging seductively on a hook behind the door, he strode, naked and dripping to the front door and flung it wide.
He faced himself.
Another Fox Mulder.
Blistering barnacles, Tintin! I've got one too! He thought with glee. Grabbing the stranger's clothes, he hauled him into the apartment, and slammed the door.
"Alex, oh Alex... " he cooed. "Come on out, wherever you are." He grinned hungrily at his double and licked his lips. "I've got a special treat for you!"
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