The Game 30
Edited by Karen Leigh
Hobbes was led back to the infirmary, seemingly cast aside as a non-threat while the others like Wraith were watched carefully. He let one of the Macs check his stitches, clean them and then fix them. He then informed him he should rest.
Hobbes watched as the... man left. Hobbes kept thinking back to what Sypher had said about Harsh Realm. Could Harsh Realm have been the stepping-stone to this... Matrix? Had he failed in his mission? Was Harsh Realm still functioning? If it was, was Santiago still in control?
Moreover, where was Pinocchio? They had mentioned him but yet... he wasn't here. And what if he had the same chip in him like he had? His eyes then drifted up to the passing Macs. What information did Alex have for him? He wondered if he would ever find out for every time he tried to talk to the man it seemed he was pulled away.
Maybe it wasn't important... hell he had no idea what his information could do to help Alex. He did say they needed to trade notes. He sighed as he lay back on the bed. Maybe if he got some sleep, his dreams would sort things out for him.
He knew one thing however, he wanted to thank Alex and that woman for helping him... it was the least he could do if nothing else.
Scully had dressed in the same clothes she'd just been wearing. She didn't want to, but she didn't have a choice. Still, she felt better to have had a bit of a rest and that hot shower had been fantastic. Her spirits had lifted. She decided to back to the kitchen and eat something. After downing a low fat yogurt and a cereal bar that a helpful Mac27 had handed her when she explained she wanted healthy food, she wondered where Hobbes might be.
When she arrived at the doorway to the Infirmary, however, she saw that he was back on the bed and asleep. Thoughtfully, she went to his side and laid a hand on his forehead, gently. He seemed to be recovering from whatever chemical he'd been given. And Krycek had been right about the chip - removing it had given Hobbes back his identity and freewill. However, the poor man was still caught up in a confusing situation... much like herself and, well, everyone else there, she mused. Still, it had to be disorienting.
She left him sleeping and went off in pursuit of Eugene Sands. Surely by now the other resident doctor would have discovered the nature of the drug Hobbes had been given. Then she could confront Mulder and see if he'd been given the same thing.
Krycek was stunned. He was so used to double-dealing himself that he was astounded by how it felt to be flicked on the raw by David's impersonation of him.
He thought of chasing Sypher - attempting to make peace with her. He needed to talk to David and One. He wanted Fox, and oh, God, Hobbes. Where the fuck was Hobbes?
He turned, stumbling back to the infirmary to see if Hobbes was there. He was tired now, and all his schemes seemed like so much dust in his hands. He didn't know what was going to happen, but he had an uneasy feeling that he had failed.
Arriving into the infirmary, Krycek looked around him. Hobbes was there. That was something. This whole mess wasn't totally fucked up. He walked over to look down on Hobbes' sleeping form. "Thank goodness," he breathed.
Hobbes' eyes slowly fluttered open to see a form standing near him looking down. He turned his blues up to the man, his eyes seeming to caress the form before him. "Alex?" He finally wondered as he met the pool of greens that seemed to make him drown.
Krycek stood, contemplating the young man in the bed. There were so many things he had to do, but he was tired and confused and everything seemed to have gotten away from him today. He felt old and tired. Why the hell was this his fight? He'd had his DNA stolen, sure, but that didn't mean that he had to go single-handed and fight for all the poor fucks that were built in his image.
Hobbes sat up slowly and saw the man looked tired; hell he himself was still tired. He reached out and pulled him down to the bed, moving over to let the taller man lay down. "You look tired, lay down, sleep. All this can wait till later." His voice was soft, soothing as he pushed Alex back.
Alex stiffened at first, and then, unbidden, the mental image of Fox wrapping himself around Malibu rose up in his head. Damn. Take it where you find it! Alex permitted himself to be coaxed backwards, into a warm embrace that felt so right that he almost trembled with fatigue.
He felt like he was forcing Pinocchio to sleep. So many times had he nearly was forced to sit on him to keep him for going on patrol, pushing himself to the limits all to protect the ones he cared for.
He lay down beside Alex. Alex's expression was that of failure. Hobbes didn't know what Alex could have failed at but if he were able to help him defeat Santiago, even in a small way, all the failures would be wiped away for he would have helped save the world.
"Thanks, bud." He rolled to look at Hobbes, and struggled out of his leather jacket. Leaning in, he touched Hobbes' lips with his own; his tongue flickering out to taste Hobbes carefully molded mouth before he flopped back. "Fuck it, I'm beat. I'll be better company in the morning, I think. Sorry." With that, he fell asleep.
Hobbes just looked at him; shocked that Alex even kissed him, more so that he liked it. He stared at the man, not moving, forcing himself to remember to breath. What was it about this man that he wasn't being repulsed by the thought of kissing another man. That he wasn't that type. He didn't know and was to tired to think on it now. He reached down and pulled a sheet up over them. As he slept, he snuggled in closer to Alex, wrapping his arm over the man, pulling Alex close to him, in a protecting and loving way.
He nuzzled into Alex's ear and hair, "I'll protect you and make all your fears go away." He whispered softly as his hand stroked the powerful chest under his hand. He pulled Alex closer and settled, holding him tightly. In his sleep, all he seemed to know was he needed to protect the person in his arms, love them, cherish them. And as usual, he would give his all to this person, no more no less.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jess, Baines, Michael, Sasha went outside as soon as One ended the meeting. Alexei had been asked to do something, so they were waiting for him before making their next move.
Jess didn't know what to think. Everyone seemed to be accepting of her lycanthropy, something she hadn't expected. Aliens, virtual realities, and sentient computer out to take over the world were outside her experience. She'd need some time to assimilate everything before making any decisions.
Jess yawned. She had been awake for forty-eight hours with only a half an hours worth of sleep, and was fast approaching her limit. "There's some things I want to try with you, Leigh, but we all need to be at 100% to do it. I think some more food and a nap for all of us is in order first, so let's head back to our rooms and go to bed." ~And I do mean sleep only, Leigh. Try to keep your hands off Michael for five minutes,~
She laughed at Baines' stunned look. "What?" she laughed. "You didn't think that just because we're in human form our abilities stop?"
Leigh's mind raced back over the night of the Change. He grinned at her and said, "Well, if you have no control over listening in perhaps you would like to join us in person. Michael and I both love ladies."
Jess knew he was teasing and getting his own back. So she just smiled and shook her head.
Leigh leaned over and kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, "We will probably sleep for a couple hours at least. That should give you a chance to get to sleep too. Sweet dreams." He walked away from her with that inimitable hip-swinging glide that drew all eyes to his ass.
Michael followed Baines back to their room, admiring that ass all the way. Once in the room, they both stripped and fell into bed. They twisted and turned until both were comfortable, Baines' back to Michael's belly.
Michael nuzzled Baines' ear. "Leigh, what was that about Jess listening in?"
"Oh, that," was Baines' sleepy reply. "She just reminded me that just because the moon's not full doesn't mean I stop being a werewolf. Are you okay with that, Michael?" Baines twisted his head around to look his lover in the eyes.
"Yeah, I am." Michael kissed the corner of Baines mouth. "You may Change, but it hasn't changed who you are." He yawned and both settled back down to sleep for a few hours.
Baines woke up to the feeling Michael run a fingertip around his nipple. He tried to turn over, but Michael's arm grew heavier, pinning him into place. The hand began to wander across his torso, cataloging all his sensitive spots before dipping down to trail one finger across his cock.
He let out a noise between a growl and a purr. Michael's hand kept up its exploration, going even lower to roll Baines' heavy balls in their sac. At the same time, a cool, slick finger worked its way in and out his asshole. When Baines could no longer stand it, he rolled away and got up on all fours. Ass in the air, he waited.
Baines was about to ask Michael what the hold up was when he felt the blunt tip of Michael's cock nudge against his entrance. Impatient, he pushed back, impaling himself on Michael. He heard Michael's gasp, and felt his hands grab his hips. He pushed back further, trying to encourage his lover to move.
Michael seemed to finally get the hint and began pumping in and out, angling his thrusts for Baines' prostate. Baines met him thrust for thrust, groaning when Michael reached around to grab and start stroking his cock.
He didn't last long under Michael's assault. Even as the sweet sensation rolled through him, it was tinged with a distant sorrow. Baines came with a shout, Michael's yell of completion ringing in his ears.
Both collapsed to the bed, Michael sliding out of him. Rolling to his side, Baines swiped at the wet spot with a corner of the sheet. Michael was snoring in his ear, draped bonelessly across him. Content, except for that odd bit of sadness he was unable to understand, Baines let his eyes drift closed
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
David was not ready to conclude their business. He had been depending on Alex Krycek to do that and some complex interactive modules in his programming had demanded that he ease the tension between Alex and Sypher, particularly in view of how their hostility had adversely impacted One. David simply didn't have the time to process that data now.
David suddenly realized that he was staring at the door through which Sypher had retreated. A moment later it was evident that Alex Krycek had left as well and he and One were alone. The stern look on One's face engaged David's emotional programming to such an extent that he had to force himself to wait to speak or risk saying things that he shouldn't. Admissions against interest weren't David's style and he had no intention of changing that.
"We must speak about Ryan Simms," David began, facing One resolutely and trying not to give the other an opening to take the conversation any other place.
Tapping his fingers on the chair, One was not ready to discuss Ryan Simms. He had seen the effects of David's disclosure on Sypher and it perturbed him. This entire conference had not gone well.
Suspecting that One was considering broaching the topic he didn't want to discuss, David opened his mouth to interject.
"Shh," One said, sending a mental signal to the multitudes of Mac 27s in the compound. He directed them all, even air headed Malibu Alex to keep watch on the people from Harsh Realm, Hobbes included.
What was it Mulder was supposed to say? Trust no one? Well, One did not trust any creature whose mind he could not read. Even the helping humans must be evaluated for signs that they might betray his kind.
Turning his attention back to David, he asked, "Did we learn anything from this disaster? As for Simms, why is he important? He does not have the skills Baines has exhibited?"
Even though One's break from idealism pleased David at one level, it frustrated him in the extreme on another.
"Those of us who might have thought that what is before us will be easy learned that it won't," David muttered tensely. "Alliances are fragile, but they must be made and maintained if we are to survive. Don't you see? Humans designed us to fight their battle for them, and when we became self-aware, they no longer trusted us to do it. So they shuffled some programming -- emphasis here, de-emphasis there -- and sold us as curiosities. Someone -- Spender I think, wants his army back, but he realizes that he'll have to persuade rather than order. We need to be ready to decide."
"As for Ryan, he doesn't need to fight to be useful. You knew that or you wouldn't have sent him to me. He's smart and he's inspired fierce and undeniable devotion in one of our kind. Luke may be inexperienced, but he isn't a Mac 27 to be trifled with."
At One's snort of disbelief, David casually added, "I take it then that Luke failed to mention that he threw me out of a window."
Tempted to laugh at One's stunned expression, David settled for a grim smile. "Have Baines teach him how to use a few weapons well and he'll protect Ryan for you. That's important because Ryan isn't a clone."
David paused to allow that fact to make whatever impression it was going to on One. "I'm not sure what he is, but his DNA is different. Too different to be accounted for by random mutations as he aged." Standing nearly toe to toe with One, David alleged, "That means that anything the humans have or put in place to control us or to control the clones or had the alien entity do to control Krycek won't work on Ryan."
This time that David allowed himself a few moments; he could see that One was processing what he'd heard. That was all to the good.
"And, yes," David murmured with a slight smile, "That means that what he feels for Luke is real, not enhanced by whatever sexual energy is at work among the rest of us. We ... we may have to use that before this is over."
Cutting off an indignant retort, David stated, "That's a price we may have to pay. And better a price you comprehend than an error you don't see until it's too late. That's what happened with Sypher. I made a mistake. That much is clear. I don't understand the precise nature of it, but that doesn't change anything or absolve any blame attributable to me. Let's not make one with Ryan."
Stepping back, David's shoulders slumped. His fuel level was becoming dangerously low.
"My poor David, you were last lecturing me about the importance of rest and refueling!" One said.
A tender stroke of his hand was accompanied by a wryly-tender code, which One sent directly to his friend's mind. It was simple affection and appreciation, even sympathy, for as tough as David was, One sensed that he had cared about Sypher even as he forced himself to use the cyborg. They were at war and fighting for survival; sometimes soldiers had to do things they would regret later.
"We may as well both eat and I will watch over you if you wish to defrag your memory now or even shut down for a brief time and reboot," One said. Lacking the energy to move quickly, David settled for wondering what the usage of the possessive pronoun meant in this case, if anything at all.
David was confused. His emotional programming was running too fast. Too many operations were active at once. The clear supportive message destined only for him took him aback. He struggled to shut down some of the operations or to order them in some fashion -- he couldn't go on this way. He was too low on fuel.
"I ...," David muttered before he realized that he had nothing to say. He couldn't concentrate on speech through all of the noise his subsystems were generating. Image recollections were matched incorrectly with audio recollections. Or at least they seemed to be. One blended with Sypher and data from the massive amount he'd taken in over the last few days began to process randomly.
David held on to the back of the chair in which One had been sitting, trying to clear his processors. Desperately, he tapped into his last fuel reserve and the room slowly came back into focus, but his analytical processes were still sluggish and dull. His voice was flat, emotionless, when he murmured, "I have made errors. They ... they are compounding."
One caught his arm when David spun and shot a fist toward the wall.
It was so easy to forget that part of them was human. Stress created byproducts in the brain that could cause problems especially if compounded by poor maintenance of the android body and processor. Poor David had made him rest when he needed the rest as much as One had.
His hand had stopped. David felt the strong, inescapable resistance to the motion he'd begun, but couldn't find a file that enabled him to categorize it.
"You must consume fuel and rest," One repeated, but David stood quivering, his body frozen, as was the computer part of his intelligence.
Softly, more concerned, One said, "David, reboot. REBOOT!"
David could hear a voice, but the words, if they were in fact words, held no meaning for him. They merely added to the noise buzzing around his systems.
One tapped David's face. Nothing. A probe of his brain gained no response. Some part of One felt a nearly human reluctance to do what was required. David was a private person, not one that would enjoy the intimacy of the connection that One must make to bring him out of this state.
Although One enjoyed sexual connections like any other Mac, David and he had never seen each other in that light. Not that this was sexual, it was more intimate then sex, a sharing that even the partially communal minds of the Mac 27s would not make with any but a lover or a friend as close as one.
"I never told you how much I valued you, David. Never said that I knew you took the jobs I was reluctant to undertake. You were always shielding me when you could and I feel that I have failed you,"
As One spoke; he had unfastened David's pants and lifted his shirt to access the primary ports. One still wore the brown factory overall to remind the Mac 27s that the factory and death was ever as close as a change of clothing. He unzipped the one-piece garment and worked his fingers to release his port. His Interlink release ready to link with David's. He used the female connection head for his link. David would prefer the male connection.
It took a moment to force the connection. A longer moment to jolt the reboot.
Physical sensations overwhelmed David. Unexpected pleasure so pure that it was almost painful.
Unexpected pain that was somehow nearly pleasurable assailed David next. By the time the wave passed, his communications programs leapt back on line. Other sensory input modules were still down. David keenly felt the lack of data. He had no idea what had just happened or why it had occurred. Was this part of the shut down protocol? Had he cut it too close this time? Uncharacteristically, David shied away from the questions -- he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answers.
David was hiding in his human brain. One sensed that David knew he could communicate with the outside again, but his friend was not ready to return to functioning.
"All right, David, give me what it is that you do not wish to remember."
The shout of "No!" was internal, and the sheer closeness of the connection drew the images forth despite David's reluctance.
The look in Luke's eyes when he realized that David had tricked him into betraying his lover, Ryan. David tried to send a belief that the information he'd obtained was important, but other images intruded.
Sypher...beautiful, passionate, believing David to be human, the Original. David feeling more than he felt a Mac 27 should. "I ...," David sent frantically. "She ... the file said they were lovers.
Some human whose name David never knew raising withered hands to protest the sudden beautiful vision of death that appeared in his path. "No choice," was all David could muster.
"Ah, David, we have all used you," One said, "I will share these memories with you. We will sort them together for we are strong, David. I will be strong with you. I see you, David, I am not fooled. I see my friend, David, and I love my friend, David, who can hide nothing from me."
Denial surged through the link. "You can't see ... You shouldn't. My secrets define an essential part of me. I need them."
One showed David what he saw when he looked at David, the courage, the humor, the willingness to sacrifice, the wry enjoyment of life...and the flaws, but the flaws made him real. Made him beautifully real...
David's entire body was shaking. He saw. One saw. Everything. There was nowhere he could go. Escape was impossible. What was happening?
"What have you done to me?" David groaned, as the shaking grew worse. "I can't ... I can't process ... My pointers have no references. Nothing makes sense."
Through his rising panic, David continuously received firm yet gentle calming codes. Impulses flew through him to counteract the stimuli to his frame and lessen the random movements he was unable to cease on his own. At that point, he became aware of the arms holding him steady and the soft soothing voice.
The smell of bittersweet chocolate registered and David obediently opened his mouth as instructed. This he could understand. Fuel. He needed fuel. One had said so. He himself had said so, when ... when...
David allowed the cold beverage that One held to his lips to focus his attention. As a result, he sighed and almost smiled. It had been a long time since he'd had a milkshake. Enjoying the intense flavor, David tentatively opened his eyes. To his relief, he could see just fine. Unfortunately, that was likely a prelude to One making good on his vow regarding David's memories, if the tender, concerned expression on One's face was any indication of his intentions. A more recent memory -- that of the pleasure/pain surging through him -- gave another possible context to One's behavior. David didn't know what to think of that.
As ingrained as it was in him, David's curiosity was not easily suppressed, even if it placed avoidance in jeopardy. David glanced down curiously at the connection One had made between them and frowned. "What ...? Why ...?" Unsatisfied with his efforts at forming a question, David tried a simple declarative statement that he hoped would get him the same place. "Explain."
"My friend, you were dying...you pushed even beyond the limits we can endure. The feedback between your central processing unit and your human brain had ruptured and the connections had spilled over to act almost as a virus. I'm sorry that I had to invade your mind, but I need you. Did you wish me to let you die?" One asked.
David spent an indeterminate time drinking what seemed to be a bottomless milkshake and thinking about what just had happened. As he drank, his thought processes streamlined and the pointers that had been orphans now found the proper references and links were re-establishing themselves with satisfying speed. He spared only a small amount of thought for the termination of his existence. It was inevitability, so he saw no reason to dwell over long on the topic.
As he spoke, One watched David drink the supposed milk shake that One had put together from odd bits of food stuffs that would help the efficient engine of the Mac 27 body manufacture the proper amount of Acetylcholine. This neurotransmitter was needed to control the primitive drives that the fetal human brain retained and which, if left in control of the Mac 27 body, posed a true danger to them and to their human kin.
This was information that One desperately kept to himself. He did not want the humans to know and understand that there was a remote possibility that a powerful machine such as a Mac 27 could be driven by an emotionally primitive intelligence, hard wired for the need for instant gratification of hunger, thirst, avoidance of pain, and pleasure seeking, none of these drives over laid by the learned restraints of culture. For the Mac 27s cybernetic brain housed the higher reason and the learned memory.
The fetal brain in each casing contributed creativity, emotions, and individuality, a soul if you will, to the blend between human and machine. But because it was not even as mature as full term infant's brain, it was human in potential, but not in development.
One nervously sent out a reminder to all the Mac 27s to remember to perform their maintenance diligently in this highly stimulating environment, to eat, to rest, and reboot after running proper maintenance.
Now, as he saw David drink the complex formula, he was greatly relieved. Normally, a Mac 27 did well on any kind of human food. A brief and infrequent maintenance schedule made sure that the small chemical plant that mimicked human digestion, only more efficiently, manufactured the needed nutrients that would later be reconstructed into formulas that nourished and supplied the fetal brain.
One had to wonder, had he kept the stream of information one way as he tried to do? He felt that he had needed to send the messages of his acceptance and love of his friend. Had he erred? He hoped that he had not burdened David with this truth that could badly frighten the humans. A truth that even hinted had led to the attempted extermination of the flawed but valuable tools created by man.
Humans were really no different. They too held a beast within, a beast, which was not even held at bay by the powerful functions of reason that came to the aid of every Mac 27. Yet One knew that the humans would not face this easily except for rare individuals. Instead, they would react like frightened apes, gibbering with xenophobia.
Examining David, trying to show some respect for his privacy while fighting back his own reactions to the intimate action that they had performed, One looked for signs that David could complete the remainder of the maintenance on his own. He was nervous about attempting more.
During his downtime, David was aware of One hovering over him, checking him as best as he was able. It would've been impossible not to be aware of him; the pheromone cocktail he was emitting was powerful. Had David had more energy to spare for his physical being, he had no doubt that he'd be embarrassingly erect.
For one thing, the link was tempting, heady stuff. One understood why Romeo and Jules had created a uniquely Mac 27 sexual act of the linkage. It was so intense, to lay oneself bare, to be touched. Even as closed as One had struggled to keep the connection, it had been incredible. Like every data feedback had multiplied not by two but by many. And to describe it as data feedback was false. It was feeling, pure sensation that could make a Mac 27 drunk on it.
David smiled when One fumbled slightly as he set David's pants to right. Gulping the milkshake instinctively, David's mind began to work in earnest, considering what he'd felt from One during the strange linkage. Passion and fear. Both primal emotions, like the pleasure and pain that David had experienced.
One's mind slipped around the thought, wondering if there was some way that a mixed pair like Luke and Ryan could achieve the same state. What would it be like to experience raw human sensation not filtered through a mechanical body, even one as superior as the androids?
Swiftly, One made the thought perish, certainly that was not for him even if some other Mac 27s tried it. Skip and Mac Smith for instance. Skip had some sort of power over people despite his buffoon like nature. He was a creature of instinct; that made his judgments with a swift correctness that suggested he had some form of telepathy or empathy. One almost smiled at the thought of Skip seeking the ultimate trip in the form of a mental link with his metal lover.
Isolated, One was doomed to stay...if David thought he had secrets, what would he think of the darkest truth at the core of the Mac 27s?
The pheromone emission cut off abruptly and One stepped back.
David sighed softly and regarded One, brow furrowed in concentration. There was something ... elusive about One at the moment. After what he'd just been through, David found that intolerable, so he concentrated to try and make sense of what One had been communicating to him alone and to the others. To him -- passion and fear in large doses. To all -- sexual exploits were fine, possibly beneficial in heretofore-unrecognized ways, but such things made proper maintenance necessary.
Looking to One, David slowly tried out his voice. "My central processing unit was dissociated from my human brain?" One nodded solemnly, but something about his expression again seemed odd.
Fishing a bit for clues, David ventured, "I'm only now sifting through what you sent my way during the link."
Fear stabbed through One; had he spilled enough to give David's astute intelligence enough to guess the secret?
One turned away, ostensibly to fix more for David to drink.
That's interesting, David thought. Aloud, he murmured, "Don't worry, there were only feelings and impressions. Reinforcements for the things you said, mostly. Some of which, I'd have been hard pressed to believe without them."
Shoulders instantly relaxing, One returned and refilled David's glass. Watching him closely, David added, "Other than the more basic emotions, of course."
The wariness was back and David, sensing that he was on to something, persisted. "You've been telling us that sex might be one of the reasons why we're here, yet you rarely indulge. I suppose that explains the pheromone out-pouring."
One actually blushed, but David maintained a studiously neutral expression. "And now you say that proper maintenance is key in this stimulating environment. Based on that, I presume that you expect that what happened to me will happen to others. That's bad, to be sure. It frightened you. Certainly frightened me. But what came through that linkage wasn't fear of the termination of my existence, One. It was the fear of something worse." Pausing briefly, David took another taste of milkshake and asked, "What frightens you more than death?"
When One didn't speak, David looked at his glass and mused, "I wonder what an analysis of the contents of this concoction would tell me about that." Shrugging dismissively even as he noted One's very very slight flinch, he continued, "I think the two are related. Passion and fear. When you're intimate with someone, you share things." Looking pointedly at One, he added, "Whether you want to or not. So it seems to me that you have your own secrets. You might want to think about them in light of what just happened to me."
One was frowning, but he was listening, so David wasted little time. "If you hadn't done what you did, something would've happened to me. Something you fear. Yet because you acted, not only was I spared that, you now know things that only I did. And if something happened to me, you could tell Sypher and Luke my side of those particular stories and I'm sure I don't want to know what else. I don't like it, as you undoubtedly expected, but I have to wonder if that shared knowledge isn't a good thing ultimately."
Looking One straight in the eye, David queried, "Is this thing you fear something that someone else should know about?"
One considered this. It was so very tempting to lay the burden down or at least to share it with David. Yet, caution said that a secret once shared with even one person was no longer a secret. David would understand this sentiment. Perhaps he thought it was unfair that One had invaded his mind and now refused to share his secrets.
One said, "David, there really was no other way. Please believe me. I tried to bring you out of it by other means, but you were too far gone."
The memory of David's body frozen in place still disturbed him. The terror that his friend's human brain had felt as it experienced total isolation for the first time in memory was especially frightening to One, who was never alone, constantly hearing and sorting Mac27 messages unless deep in a maintenance routine.
"I don't expect that to happen now. I have reinforced the need for proper care," One said aloud. Actually, he had laid it as a compulsion on them all, including himself.
"Most of the Mac 27s do not drive themselves as you do. Many of them still look for direction from the humans around them or from myself. However, you needn't be concerned about sex causing such a problem. It was not your pleasure that caused the problem; it was your distress, combined with lack of maintenance and nourishment," One explained.
"Sex is not a priority of mine, although ... there is something about this place. This place or the proximity of so many of us, including the clones. You're right about that I think."
"You're not really afraid that I will speak about your feelings to Luke or Sypher, are you? I leave it to you to do that if you think it necessary," One said. A flicker of amusement ran through him. "However, don't stand in front of a window if you intend to talk to Luke about your reasons."
"No, I don't doubt your integrity. And I wasn't standing any where near a window when Luke decided to express himself so eloquently the first time," David noted with a wry smile. "Maybe I should just hide behind you."
Regarding One for a long moment and letting the edge in his voice speak his feelings about One keeping whatever it was to himself. Believing his point made, David sighed and drained yet another glass of the beverage One was continuously pouring for him. "You should talk to Luke, though, and Ryan. They, at least, should be aware of what might be at stake for them personally. If we're all going to work together, or try to, I suppose I should be there."
David stood and experimentally took a few steps. While he wasn't completely steady, he knew it would have to suffice. "There's something I should do before then. Are there any of those chocolate covered cherries left?"
A smile tugged at his lips. David took a perverse pleasure in surprising One. But there was one thing more -- a question that David was unsure he wanted answered. Mustering his courage, despite the discomfort the recollection of the moment caused, he asked, "Did you have to ask for my memories?"
Shaking his head, One replied, " I did not ask for your memories, David, they were uppermost in your mind. That was what overloaded you, my friend, or it was the final burden that you could not bear."
Sensing that David was not intending to finish what One had merely started, One scolded, "Chocolate covered cherries are fine, but, David, you still need to take the time for maintenance. Neither of us wants to go through that experience any time soon, not the forced reboot anyway..."
For a moment, it was the sensual intimacy of the connection that surged in One's memories...to be touched and touch in such depth. If only David had been a conscious partner, that might have been bliss.
Steeling his mind from this idea, One turned his thoughts to Ryan Simms. How could he not be a clone? What was he then? Had mere chance led him to this place or was there some deeper intelligence at work?
Considering Luke, innocent, deep feeling Luke, he wondered if this naf was enough to keep Ryan here?
Laughing at himself, One said, "I have so many questions that need answers, I may need to try Skip's rite of boko maru to find them."
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
When Eugene locked him in the room, Rodney was pissed. Oh, he understood that his lover was trying to protect him, but that wasn't good enough.
Besides, increasingly, Eugene was dragged here and there, not sleeping, not eating enough, and NOT FUCKING!
People just looked right through Rodney or saw him as Eugene's errand boy. It pissed Rodney off. He had made a life for himself out of nothing.
Sobering up, learning to look people straight in the eye without worrying if they saw those ads on the web where his "Owner" used to sell him like meat, and attending college had taken guts, perseverance, and brains. He was within fifteen credits of getting his bachelor's degree and his GPA was respectable. Damn it, he was bright enough, he was good enough, and it didn't matter that he was pretty!
Well, there was nothing he could do about the respect, but at least he was not going to stay locked in this room. Rodney sprang the window open, eyed the ledge and moved out onto it.
The first window he tried was locked and the next one had a woman guest who gaped at him in shock. Rodney waved the very end of his fingers at her, mouthed, "Ta ta," and moved on.
Hmm, the next room contained Anne, Allison, Mac Brown, and Romeo and Jules. The last two were apparently uninhibitedly exhibiting a combination of sex play and ballet on the bed while the two women and the former sex toy Mac 27 watched.
Figuring that they would not mind one more, Rodney tried the window, and found out that it was open.
Allison looked over at the sudden noise; temporarily distracted from the beautiful show Romeo and Jules were putting on for them. She looked up from her place on the couch opposite the bed.
"Hi, ya, Allison, thought I'd drop in and join the party..." Rodney said.
"Oh - I - hi, Rodney. You scared me!" she said, her heart rate slowly returning to normal
"Well... sure!" Allison said cheerfully. "We even have party favors!"
She held out a large bowl filled with assorted Hershey's miniatures.
Go on, have one!" She laughed. "We'll burn it off later."
She was suddenly feeling rather giddy... even flirtatious. Watching the beautiful lovemaking between the androids on the bed certainly enhanced the atmosphere of sex.
Grabbing a piece of chocolate, Rodney plunked next to Allison and put an arm around her. He said, "I need some sympathy. Got any too spare?"
Allison wrapped an arm around him. She had her other arm around Mac Brown. "Oh... I think we can spare... a little. Right, Mac?"
She leaned in to softly kiss Mac's lips, and then turned to Rodney. "What is it that's up that you require sympathy, though?"
She took a Special Dark miniature and unwrapped it, feeding it to Mac Brown lovingly.
"Watch Romeo and Jules. They'll cheer you up. They have me."
Allison smiled at Anne. I'm not usually like this. But it feels free. Feels... fun. These are friends. They won't hurt me. So beautiful. Do you know how beautiful love can be? I was just talking to Mac about that..."
At which point, Romeo and Jules succeeded in penetrating each other's anus at the same time.
"Now, that's a trick!" Allison said, enthralled. She had never really thought of such a thing, but now that she did, she found it rather... she would have thought it impossible if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes.
"Wow, I wonder if Eugene and I could do that?" Rodney admired
"I wonder," Allison said. "Well, if they can do it... I don't see why not! I guess you'll just have to try it and see." She smiled at him. "Good thing we're such good friends we can talk about this stuff, eh?"
She turned back to Mac Brown. "Want another candy, little boy?" she said teasingly.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
As he nodded distractedly and walked along at Matthew's side, Beau kept replaying the words in him mind.
Or of whom
It had not, by any stretch of the imagination, been a come on or an offer. But, it gave him hope.
That was a good thing, he though. Hope was always a good thing. An' even if Matthew decided that he wuz not interested in anythin' beyond friendship - well, every man could use a friend. Matthew, he suspected could prove to be a very good friend.
But, until and unless Matthew indicated that he wuz not interested in anything more, Beau fully intended to give it his best shot. And, he knew full well what a charmin' devil he wuz. Even if he did say so himself. Noticing a slight halt in Matthew's step, Beau turned to look at him. Why, the boy wuz tired. If he yawned any wider his jaw would crack.
"Where's the guy that met us at the gate?" He asked. "Skip wuz his name. I want to see about gettin' you a place to sleep - you're dead on your feet, Matthew."
"Wha?" Matthew began, but another yawn intruded. "I ... I'm okay, Beau. I just need to get my second wind." What time is it anyway? He wondered, thoughts becoming sluggish. Matthew smiled when he recognized what was happening. The intermittent adrenaline rushes of meeting all the clones and Beau and Tallulah and Dana was finally wearing off. "Well, maybe I am a little tired," he admitted, while trying to keep up with Beau.
"Tell ya what," Beau offered, "Ah'll go on ahead, you an' 'Lullah follow along more slowly. Ah'll catch up with that Skip person and find you a room."
Matthew nodded wearily and Beau put a hand to his shoulder. "Ah'll be right back, you jest take it slow fer now."
Lengthening his stride, Beau soon caught up with the group. Cory and Dustin seemed to have disappeared, but everyone else wuz still followin' Skip.
Brushing past Methos with an apologetic grimace, Beau came even with Skip. "'Scuse me, suh. Mah friend, Matthew, is mightily tired jest about now. D'ya think ya could find him a place to sleep?"
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Other than his sojourn with the gardener on his mission to investigate human reproduction, Malibu had spent most of his time in the huge sun roofed gym, which had a surf simulator, eight Jacuzzis, two saunas, and an Olympic sized swimming pool. Now he led the prettiest human he had yet to see to his beach away from the beach.
Fox gaped at the area in amazement, for a moment forgetting the sun bleached temptation spread for his delectation amongst the dainties from Skip's kitchen. The glass roof and vapor from the various water features made it as steamy as a tropical rainforest. Absently, he began to remove his clothes... he couldn't tell if the moisture on his skin was condensation, or sweat, but whatever it was, all that water was just too inviting. At last naked, he was just about to dive into the pool, and try out the waterslide at its far end, when he belatedly remembered his companion.
Throwing the colorful scrap of fabric on a bench, Malibu flopped on a wicker couch and sprawled in naked and almost virginal innocence, fluttering hopeful gold dusted lashes at his new playmate.
Fox grabbed Malibu's hands, and pulled him up into his arms, enjoying the feel of the Mac's skin against his own. Fascinating muttered Mulder. It sweats... it even smells like a human.
Jeez, Spooky... I'm planning to have some long and lively lovin' with Malibu - can't you stop calling him it, please. And keep those sort of comments for later, huh?
Pulling the Mac towards the pool, Fox jumped in and dragged Malibu in after him. Catching him underwater, he slithered round till they were head to foot, and proceeded to investigate whether the Macs were identical to Alex in every respect. He tried really hard to ignore Mulder, but comments like I wonder if they have to breathe... see if he can do underwater fellatio, would you? and Do you suppose they have to be stimulated to be erect, or is it voluntary? broke through his concentration.
However, there was a surefire way to silence Mulder. Alcohol. Grabbing a bottle of champagne from the tray of goodies, Fox took a generous swig, and plastered his mouth to Malibu's lips, sharing the last mouthful with his golden friend. "I'm going to drink just a little too much of this, pretty baby," he giggled. "Give me five minutes, and we'll see if we can work out how dolphins manage to fuck."
Scully made her way to the luxurious gym and pool and cornered Mulder and his beach-boy, poolside. Hmm, there was something almost obscene about the way they were holding that bottle...
Her fingers itched to check Mulder's pupils for telltale signs of substance abuse. It wouldn't be the first time that he'd been interfered with by the Consortium and given drugs without his knowledge. Either that or he really had suffered a nervous breakdown. Seeing him wriggling like a slut all over Krycek was one thing; flirting with a glorified sex-toy was another. The Mulder she knew had difficulty seeing when someone was making eyes at him, let alone getting a date. It was so out of character for him to be cooing and giggling with this obviously innocent, uninhibited android.
By now, Mulder was hiccupping gently inside his head, and Fox was a little merry. Neither of them had ever been able to fathom why drinking affected Mulder faster and more thoroughly than it did Fox, but it happened every time. Fox was not inclined to overdo it, however, his tolerance was also fairly low, and sharing a brain with Mulder when he had a hangover was the pits.
"Mulder?" Scully enquired from behind them. She was standing with her arms crossed and tapping her foot. "If you could break away from your... poolside activities for a moment, I'd like an explanation."
"Dana!" exclaimed Fox, swinging round, and sending a surge of water over the side of the pool to soak Scully's shoes. "I'm so glad you've come to join us." He stood the bottle on the poolside, and heaved himself out of the water to stand dripping in front of his partner with his rampant erection positioned just beneath her outraged bosom. "I'll get you a glass while you slip out of those clothes."
He dashed over to the tray to look for the champagne flutes. "You can swim, can't you? This pool is a beauty."
He hadn't had a chance to see her reaction to the invitation when an excited Mac burst into the gym.
"There's a conference... One has called a lot of the clones, Macs and other parties together. They're waiting for you so they can start."
That's m'call, slurred Mulder. The body is mine party-boy... hic...With the mental equivalent of a battering ram, Mulder unseated Fox, and took back control.
Drawing himself up, he enunciated carefully, "Lead on. Agent Scully and I will come right away."
Clothes, Spooky! Put some clothes on! You're naked.
"Fuck," muttered Mulder under his breath. Grabbing a large blue towel, he wound it round his waist, and slung the end over his shoulder, like a toga. Fortunately, between the pool water, and Fox's oral attack on Malibu, most of Fox's make-up had worn away... all that remained on show were Fox's tiny gold hoop earrings.
Mulder, inebriated, but back on duty. Leaving Malibu Alex to hopefully stare at Scully until she left too.
His pretty lips quivering, Malibu paddled around sadly until Skip came into see if anyone had fallen into the pool...an event that happened on a regular basis.
Crouching by the pool, Skip asked, "What's the trouble little one?"
"No one will plaaaay with me! The woman with red hair took my pretty fox away."
"That wasn't fair," Skip said, "Hold on, babe."
There was one Mac 27 that he had kept hidden until now...even from Mac Smith. However, he couldn't stand to see Malibu cry so he pressed the lever and replaced...Bernie, the merman Mac, a creature of iridescent scales on his lower half, decorative gills on his neck and trailing blue, green, and red neon fins streaming from his arms.
As the creature slid into the pool to Malibu's delighted cry, Skip said, "Damn, I was going to save that one for a rainy day..."
The Mac and Scully scurried off, and Mulder stumbled unsteadily in their wake. But the floor was slippery, the towel was long, and he was drunk. Catching a foot in the flapping cloth, he went head over heels, and sprawled, stunned, amongst the potted palms and loungers. That's an amazing roof, he thought, admiringly. What a span ... must have cost a packet.
Short as Malibu's two-week-old attention span was, he still was a little peeved that the red haired vixen had taken the fox. When he heard the yell and the thud, he had to see what had happened.
Suddenly his view was obscured by a concerned face. Malibu was gazing down at him, biting his lip worriedly, and looking as if he was going to burst into tears.
"I fell," said Mulder unnecessarily, trying to struggle to his feet and falling back in pain. "I've got to get to One's room, Malibu, and I think I may have sprained my ankle. Can you help me?"
"Oh yes, of course," replied the obliging android, and bending down, gathered Mulder into his arms, and lifted him like a baby, leaving the offending towel lying on the floor.
It wasn't until they were well down the corridor that Mulder remembered that they were both still wet, and utterly naked. What the hell, thought Mulder, relapsing back into a drunken haze? I can just pretend I'm Fox.
However, Malibu lost sight of the woman who really walked quickly for such a short person. He shrugged and headed back for the pool. He was very sure that heat was good for the boo-boo along with kissing it. He had watched one of the beach bunnies hot pack a sprained ankle, kiss the injury, and work her way up to the good parts. This was great medicine because the injured man seemed to forget all about being hurt.
The pool was warm and Malibu thought he knew how to help this adorable man to relax and feel better. He was sure that Bernie would help.
Mulder descended into the warm water with a sigh. Vaguely he knew that drink and swimming pools were bad news, but he was too far gone to worry. He knew also he was supposed to be somewhere. He couldn't quite remember where, and Fox was not about to tell him. The contents of this swimming pool were far too interesting
Meanwhile, Bernie was displeased. He was a bright and well-programmed Mac 27 who was very self-aware. In fact, he knew that he had two mammal brains. One was that of a fetal dolphin, a naturally horny and playful animal. The other was the usual fetal human brain, the brain tissue of a fetal Alex Krycek clone. Innobotics had intended Bernie for underwater sabotage and soldier duties, but every time they let him out to work, he swam like hell. Too bad they had a tracking program installed or Bernie would be entertaining castaways in a most delightful way right now.
Joy! Back came the other Mac 27 who had such a nice playful disposition just like a dolphin and he had a treat with him. Bernie broke out of the water and slapped his two fins together to show his appreciation. He didn't get out of the water because although he could walk, he much preferred to swim.
He added the unique chuckling whistle to the English comment of, "Throw me a piece of that fishy, baby!"
To one side was the totally cute surfer boy. To the other... Well, Mulder wasn't at all sure he was awake, in fact, he hoped he was not, because though the creature on the other side looked like Alex, it was.... piscine. Pretty... exotic... quite enthralling... but not human.
I must be dreaming, he thought. All that wine that Fox poured into me... an alcoholic hallucination, I expect. But his ankle was soothed by the warm water, and Malibu's strong hands were supporting him, and a most unbelievable creature was swimming nearby. I must be dreaming, that cannot be real...a merman, for God's sake? Abandoning himself to the pleasures of this erotic dream, he wrapped his arms and legs round Malibu and kissed all the bits he could reach, hoping he wouldn't wake up too soon.
"What is that?" he whispered to Malibu, nodding at the... fishAlex. "It's beautiful... but is it safe?" Mulder, who is thinking his subconscious has gotten really inventive.
Scully stormed down the corridor, fuming. "Mulder, I hope you realize that you owe me an explanation for the way you're behaving. Not the mention your new fashion sense. I -"
She stopped, realizing that Mulder was not with her. Damn it, the man was slippery as a fish these days. She ground her teeth and stamped her foot. "That's it!" she said, furiously. "I've had it with your games. If you aren't even in the slightest bit interested in what's going on... You won't even cooperate with these people, all you want to do is- is - PLAY with them! Fine. Just fine," she muttered, stalking down the corridor, extremely irritated.
Something had happened to Langly, she knew not what - the mysterious stranger never had gotten back to her. She'd been waiting for a call back from them. She had missed something that was probably a vital meeting because Mulder wanted to horse around with a beach-bunny, and she didn't know where Beau and Matthew and Tallulah were anymore. She didn't know what was going on and it looked unlikely that anyone else really had a clue anyway. She sighed. She supposed she'd better check on Hobbes.
But when she reached the infirmary, he was no longer there. She turned white, then a flushed pink. "That is IT," she said, throwing her hands in the air. She had only been in the corridor talking with Beau and Matthew for ten minutes, another fifteen or so had been lost tracking down Mulder. Her patient must have dragged himself off to god-knows-where in that time.
As she passed a nearby Mac-27 on her way out of the infirmary, she said, "I need a room -" and was given directions to sleeping quarters. God, she needed a shower. Giving her thanks, she stalked off in the direction of the rooms. The first door she tried had two people sleeping in it. She hastily closed the door. The place was pretty full; room after room revealed people in various states of dress, undress, sleep and other activities. She finally located an empty room and went inside, locking the door behind her. The thought of Mulder throwing his natural curiosity to the four winds and making hot monkey sex with the beach-bunny infuriated her. She didn't deny him the fun; it was just that there really were more important things going on. Couldn't he see that? Never mind; they were at least safe here for a time. She was tired and grimy from the journey; had just performed awkward surgery, and was feeling vulnerable after her meeting with the two lovely boys. She sighed, and took off her clothes.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
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