Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/479043.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      No_Archive_Warnings_Apply, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Dark_City_(1998)
  Relationship:
      John_Murdoch/Daniel_Schreber, Frank_Bumstead/Officer_Husselbeck, May/Emma
      Murdoch, Larry_Byrne/John_Murdoch
  Character:
      John_Murdoch, Mr._Hand_(Dark_City), Daniel_Schreber, Emma_Murdoch, May_
      (Dark_City), Frank_Bumstead, Officer_Husselbeck, Larry_Byrne, Ben_Carson
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Cyberpunk, Gender_Dysphoria, Genderswap, Crossover
      Pairings, Memory_Alteration, Prostitution, Repressed_Memories,
      Shapeshifting, Explicit_Sexual_Content
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-06 Chapters: 20/20 Words: 100393
****** The Spark of Life ******
by Zoi_no_miko_(zoi_no_miko)
Summary
     The City is always night, enslaved to the will of a group of beings
     called the Strangers that can alter reality with the mind alone.
     Locked underneath the city's surface are thousands of humans whose
     physical bodies are in cryogenic sleep - unknowingly, they pilot
     "shells" of flesh and blood, created and altered by the Strangers to
     fit their experiments.
     Last night, one of them woke up.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Prologue: Daniel Schreber *****
Dr. Daniel P. Schreber

I couldn’t remember anything before they brought me here, to their city that
was always changing, always night. I called them The Strangers, because they'd
never seen fit to provide me with anything else to call them. Individually they
called themselves Mr. Book, Mr. Hand, Mr. Sigh, things that seemed randomly
appropriated from the English language. At first I'd thought it for my own
benefit, as I was certain they didn't use those names when they spoke the
horrible clicks and trills that made up their own language, but as the
experiments ran on longer and they chose to speak English more and more, I
began to think it was simply another attempt to further understand the nature
of their subjects.
            I couldn’t remember how they'd implanted their cerebral net inside
my skull, the mesh of fine wires that somehow connected directly with my brain.
It allowed me to interface directly with their computer, to create and alter
programming with a thought, a technology that should be beautiful and amazing.
I couldn’t find it anything but horrible and isolating, and even when I slept -
everything unplugged and shut down - I could still feel the busyness of it all
buzzing around in my mind.
            I couldn’t remember them putting out my right eye or implanting one
of their devices in its place: an optical interface to their computer system
that allowed me to see data and schematics and programming at any time. I could
still see like a normal human apart from the data that the computer
automatically superimposed whenever I saw someone - names, personality, and
role in the primary experiments. I knew everything about a person in a glance,
and because of this, I know no-one.
            Then again, none of the people I saw were real anyway.
            The city was populated by beings that the Strangers called Shells.
They were human in absolutely every way - they move, breathe, process food.
Blood pumped through their veins. But on their own these beings were lifeless;
they had no mind, no thoughts and no will of their own. They were created
effortlessly with the mental powers that the Strangers call Tuning; but while
the Strangers could create and change whole buildings, create technology far
beyond the grasp of the human race, they could not create life, not even their
own. They were dying, their race unable to reproduce. They think that the
secret of the human soul will be their salvation, the spark of life that
changes a body from a mere mass of basic elements to something with
consciousness. Someone with dreams, memories, emotions.
            The real humans were safely locked away in cryogenic pods where
they could not age or weaken. They’d had the same cerebral nets implanted into
their brains that I had, and the cables that ran from the steel plates on the
backs of their necks connected them into the computer. They controlled the
Shells created by the Strangers without ever knowing that they weren't human,
going about their lives in innocence. It was my place to program all of this,
right down to their very identity with the computer I controlled uploading the
entirety of a new human memory into the subject's mind whenever the experiment
changes. My computer also controlled the Strangers secondary machine, the
machine that mimicked their power to handle the simple tasks in the city like
creating food and water. When a subject's identity changes, I upload their new
physical appearance as well, and the Shell is Tuned accordingly - blonds become
brunettes, old men become young, weak men become strong, male becomes female,
and their clothing changes with them. Whatever the Strangers have ordered.
            The city slept every twelve hours while I make these adjustments,
while the Strangers change and move the city's architecture, creating the
perfect stage for their experiments. The era changes as well - I've seen the
city sleek and modern, lit with neon signs and controlled with technology that
humans would have never dreamed of on their own. I've seen the city sent back
to the Edwardian era, all bustle skirts and horseless carriages, the men with
perfectly waxed moustaches and the women with impossibly small, corseted
waists. I've seen the city broken and crumbling from war, an entire experiment
dedicated to seeing what people would to do save themselves and their families,
the streets stained with blood. The real humans can't die, of course, and if
the Shell dies they simply continue in their cryogenic sleep, completely
unknowing, until they are hooked up to a new Shell in the next experiment.
            Occasionally an imprint did not take, despite my best efforts to
ensure each programmed identity is perfect. The subject remembers pieces of
their previous identity, or nothing at all. The human mind is resilient, it
seems, rejecting the programming to cling to the familiar. The controlled Shell
is disoriented and confused and must be tracked down so that I can manually
reset and re-upload the programming to its human controller through the shell
itself. The portable upload devices were something I'd designed myself, strange
and beautiful devices of glass and copper that resemble old fashioned doctor's
syringes. When activated, the copper filigree case that protects the glass
covered circuitry inside springs open. The plug end of the device rotates down
into place, a thin copper jack that looks like a needle, which pierces through
the skin on the forehead of a Shell and into the hidden port in the center of
their forehead, right in the middle of the mythical third eye. It's somehow
comforting to me that the upload devices seem so vintage and organic, a little
piece of warmth in the Strangers dark world of black metal and leather and
shining steel.
            Usually a manual reset is successful, and there is never an issue
with the human subject again. But occasionally the problem reoccurs. The
Strangers had a three strike rule for the strays. They considered a third
rejection a sign that the pattern will only continue. Then they wake the human
from their cryogenic sleep and take him to the center of their domain, a huge,
tiered area where they gather to watch as the human is strapped to a metal
wheel, spread-eagle, cold and almost nude and disoriented. They discuss his or
her roles in the experiments and examine them, discuss the possibility that
this human, this stray is the answer they have been looking for. The answer is
always an inevitable no.
            Then they remove the subject from the experiment.
            Permanently.
            With their throat slit, the human is little more than another empty
shell, base elements to be Tuned away into nothing. It sickened me that they'd
treat the precious life they are trying so hard to understand with such callous
disregard. But then again, what is one life to them when they share one group
mind? When there are so many more lives, sleeping unknowingly in their cryo-
pods, knowing nothing of the nightmare they are a part of?
            It sickened me more to be part of this nightmare.
            I do remember trying to escape, traveling through the city on a
stolen jet cycle, flying down streets and between buildings and trying to find
a way out. They caught me almost effortlessly. Then they made certain I could
never try to escape again, and locked me into the metal contraption that now
snakes around my legs and hips, feet encased in heavy boots that allow me to
hover instead of walk, to keep up with their levitation. I control it with my
mind, with the cords that screw into the plate at the base of my skull and
snake to the small interface device on my back that rivets to my clothing, the
same device that allows me to change the entire identity of a human at will. It
shuts down completely if I try to breach the borders of the city, if I travel
too far away from Them. And so I became more a prisoner and more dependent on
them than ever before.
            I hate it. But I'm too afraid of death to end it. And so, like a
coward, I continue my betrayal of the human race.

***
***** Larry Byrne *****
Larry Byrne

            My name was Henry, the first time that I discovered how to change
my Shell. I knew nothing of the Strangers then, nothing of the world of
nightmares that we lived in. I remember the fear and elation of being able to
change my body, making my dark hair red, changing my eyes from brown to blue,
and my body taller, stronger.
            I only remember bits and pieces of that time, but I remember
experimenting for days, willing even the colour of my skin to change, willing
my fingers to claws, my teeth to fangs, willing deadly spines to burst from my
skin, tearing through the sleeves of my well tailored suit. I could fix that
too; change the colour of my clothes just by willing it so. It felt like my
skin was crawling, but still I experimented, turning myself into a monster and
back again in the quiet isolation of my tiny apartment.
            I remember them coming for me.
            The knock on my door came at three in the morning, far too late for
any sane person to be awake. I'm not even sure why I was still awake, standing
in front of the mirror, watching myself change. I turned myself back quickly as
best I could, or at least what they could see of me. But it didn't matter, in
the end.
            The men at my door were pale, too pale to be human. They wore long
dark coats and hats that covered bald scalps, their eyes darkly shadowed. I
felt my pulse race, my mind knowing somehow immediately that these men, these
beings were something to be feared, something very different from myself.
Something dangerous.
            "You will come with us, yes?" the one in front said simply, though
I knew it wasn't a request.
            It was the last thing I was going to do.
            I slammed the door closed and turned the lock, running through my
apartment towards the window in my bedroom that lead to the fire escape. In my
panic I changed myself blindly, my mind reacting to fear by making myself
bigger, stronger, my clothes tearing as they became too small. I barely managed
to squeeze out the window, but I could hear them in my apartment behind me, so
I pushed on.
            I leaped over the side of the fire escape to fall the last two
stories to the ground, somehow landing on my feet, taking off running into the
street. Around me people were screaming, and I caught sight of myself in the
glass of a storefront as I ran: a huge, hulking beast, no more human than the
men that were pursuing me.
            I ran faster. If I could just get far enough away, if I could find
some quiet place to hide then perhaps I could change myself into someone
completely unrecognizable and disappear into the crowd. If I could just get
away....
            Suddenly I spotted them in front of me, the pale men in the dark
coats. I darted away onto a side street as they followed, running past crates
and dumpsters and bags of trash. The alley came to an abrupt end in a brick
wall, boxing me in, so I jumped to catch hold of the moulding on the building
next to me, hauling myself up the side of the high rise without hardly even
thinking about what I was doing, adrenaline pumping in my veins.
            There were more of them waiting on the roof when I reached it,
however, dozens of them along the edge of the building. And suddenly the
concrete under my feet shifted, falling away into nothingness as I tumbled down
into darkness, hitting concrete with a painful thud.
            "Is the shell still alive?"
            I struggled to look up, watching one of them floating down casually
from the roof to land at my side, slow and graceful like gravity didn't apply.
I stared at him in abject horror and struggled to get to my feet, but before I
could move heavy iron shackles burst through the concrete to clamp down around
my wrists and ankles, holding me in place.
            The white-faced man peered at me dispassionately, and then pulled a
knife from his coat, the blade springing open. He circled me slowly before
looking up at the others. "Yes. But he has changed it somehow."
            Another white-faced man landed next to him, smaller than the first,
eyes wide as he watched me struggle against the shackles. "A stray, Mr. Hand?"
            "More than just a stray. This one can control the machine. Like the
doctor, yes." The man called Mr. Hand turned to the second. "Trace the subject
back to his pod, wipe his memory. We must examine this one, yes. Perhaps he
holds the key to what we are looking for." Then he bent down to cover my face
with a hand, voice a stern command that sent my world into darkness. "Sleep."

 
            "Wake up." The voice was low and breathless and desperate. "Wake
up, hurry. Please."
            My limbs felt stiff and unresponsive as I struggled to open my
eyes, eyes watering at the sudden light. I tried to place myself, but I
couldn't remember what had happened. The pale men had chased me, but why? "Who
- " I tried to ask the voice, but my throat was dry and the words came out as a
croak.
            "My name is Daniel Schreber. I am a doctor. I'm here to help you.
But you must hurry, please."
            I managed to focus on the source of the voice, pushing myself up to
sit. The world was blurry around me, but as I stared and blinked away the fuzz
he slowly came into focus. He was crouched beside the oval-shaped bed I'd been
lying in, though it was more like a capsule then a bed, the lid pushed up
against the wall. He was human - blond, pale, but human -  I realized with
relief, flashing back to easily the white-faced beings that had chased me. But
he was altered, one blue eye replaced with something shining and black that put
me in mind of a camera. His eyes were covered with a pair of silver-rimmed
glasses, and the arm on the right side had been replaced by some kind of metal
with blue lights on it that attached to a piece in his ear. The right lens of
the glasses was etched with what looked like thin white lines and points -
circuitry, my mind told me, though I couldn't place the origin of the word. I
could see the same circuitry snaking silvery blue into his skin from the device
on the arm of his glasses.
            His clothes, at least, were normal - a white lab coat that did up
with buttons and a buckle at the side of his collar. His blond hair was parted
in the center, brushed back and gelled so that not a hair was out of place.
            I stared down at myself, limbs long and lanky, skin pale and
freckled and dusted with ginger hair. I could just see my reflection in his
glasses, and my features were strange and foreign. By impulse I tried to change
them, but nothing happened. "Where am I? I can't remember how...."
            "I tried to shield you from the memory wipe, but I was only
partially successful. Forgive me. Your memory is fragmented, you are confused.
I will explain everything to you in time. For now, just know that you must come
with me or they will kill you."
            I tried to take in all of his words, tried to piece them together
with the images that came back to me. At least he was right about the
confusion. Wipe his memory, the pale man with the knife had said. But how?
            There was a figure standing behind him, a nude man, but the body
was completely featureless, the short cropped hair an unremarkable shade of
brown. Its arms hung limply by its sides, its eyes lifeless. I stared. "Who the
hell is that...?"
            "It's a shell," Daniel replied. "A human body without a soul. The
true humans control them from these stasis pods through the cerebral nets
they've implanted into our brains." He turned his head and pointed to the back
of his neck where there was a metal plate with two plugs inserted. I could see
the circuitry from it snaking out in dark lines under his skin, like the piece
on his glasses. The cords hung down to connect to a computer interface of some
sort that was riveted to the back of his lab coat. When I reached to the back
of my neck I could feel a similar plate and the sockets for the plugs, and I
glanced behind me in the pod to see the cables lying where my head had been,
the ends disappearing into the pod itself.
            "He's going to take your place," Daniel was saying, tugging me from
the pod, and I managed to pull myself from it, muscles weak and unresponding.
The shell lay down in my place, movements jerky and unnatural and more than a
little horrifying.
            Daniel had grasped my chin with one hand, eyes darting over my
features. Then he turned back to look at the shell, and I watched it shift -
nudity covered by the same gray shorts I was wearing, the skin changing from
its almost-plastic perfection to mottled with freckles and fine hair. The
features shifted, sharpened into my own, the short brown hair growing longer,
auburn. I saw the edges of the metal plate appear at the back of its neck, and
Daniel reached down to attach the cables to it. Then he hit a switch on the
side of the pod, and the glowing oval cover hissed down into place.
            He pulled back and stood as the lid of the pod clicked shut,
holding out a hand to me. "Do you think you can walk?"
            I took the offered hand and managed to get to my feet, but I felt
weak, my muscles trembling. "A little. I don't know what's wrong with me."
            "You've been in stasis," he said again, "Cryogenic sleep. Don't
worry, this is normal. You will regain your strength soon. Stand on my feet and
hold on tight to me. My machine can carry us both."
            It was then that I noticed that his legs were encased in metal -
shining silver bands that started at his hips and spiralled down his thighs and
calves, ending in over-sized silver and black metal boots with thick soles. The
metal moved with him as if it was organic, but I didn't have time to wonder
about it before he was pulling me tightly against him. I managed to stand on
the tops of the boots, the metal cold under my bare soles, and with a slight
shudder I realized we'd risen a few inches, hovering above the ground.
            "Hold on tightly," Daniel instructed, "But don't touch the
connection on my back."
            He didn't have to ask me to hold on twice. I clamped my arms around
his shoulders, feeling his own tighten around my waist, his head resting on my
shoulder. He was smaller than me, and slight, and could barely see past me as
we began to move sideways - out the door and down a hallway, the walls and
ceiling the same black, twisted metal as the room I'd been in. My stomach
caught in my throat as we turned to drop down an empty shaft, moving faster
past openings out into other hallways before finally moving into one to another
door that opened in front of us. The room was almost identical to the one I'd
been in, the oval bed empty, the top leaning back against the wall. Daniel set
us down, pulling me towards the pod.
            "I have to hook you back up," he explained, words hurried and
breathless. "I'm very sorry, but the Strangers need to believe that they've
killed you."
            The Strangers. The title fit the inhuman, pale faced men. "Killed
me?"
            "They believe you are a threat to the integrity of the experiments.
I will explain more when I see you next. Lie down please, hurry. They are
coming for you even as we speak, I must meet them. They must believe that the
Shell they find in your place is you. You need to control it. Just pretend to
be real and I promise you that I will do everything in my power to keep you
safe."
            I lay back in the pod, fear gnawing at my stomach. What reason did
he have to help me? But then, what choice did I have but to believe him? "Thank
you."
            Daniel reached under the back of my neck to connect me, and while I
half expected some strange sensation of pain all I felt was a slight pressure
as the plugs clicked into place. The light on the side of his glasses started
to flicker, and he frowned. "They're calling me. Close your eyes. I will
connect you to the Shell as soon as you are asleep." He reached for the lid of
the pod, pulling it down to close.
            "Wait!" I looked up at him as he paused, all the uncertainties in
my mind bubbling over. "What's my name?" Henry, my mind supplied, but at the
same time I knew it wasn't correct. It wasn't real.
            Daniel gave a twisted little smile, bitter. "It's whatever you
would like it to be." And with that he closed the lid of the pod. I felt a cold
sleepiness overcome me immediately, and I closed my eyes, giving in to
darkness.


            When I opened my eyes I couldn't tell if I was me, or the shell
Daniel had put in my place. I was surrounded by the pale faced men, but instead
of the black wool coats and hats they wore the strangest leather outfits,
moulded with straps and buckles binding their bodies. Their hands were cold on
my skin as they dragged me out of the pod, yanking the cables out of the back
of my neck and pulling me to my feet.
            Two of them caught me by the arms, hauling me out of the oval bed,
dragging me out into the hallway and into some kind of metal cart that sped
down the hallway without any visible guidance. I struggled, trying to wrench
free from the grip of ice cold hands, only to have one of them cover my eyes.
"Sleep."


            My arms were stretched out, buckled into place against cold iron, I
realized as the world swam into being again. I felt groggy, too groggy, and
couldn't quite focus on the white faces that stood over me, arguing.
            "Surely this is an evolution - "
            One of the voices sounded old, almost ancient. "It's no evolution,
Mr. Tree. He has simply discovered how to interface with the machines. Our
Doctor can do that. He is a nuisance. He is not the answer we have been looking
for."
            "We will wipe his mind, then. Start again."
            "Yes, we will delete his memories of accessing the machines. The
Doctor can give him a new personality. We will redesign his Shell."
            "But can we chance it? What if the wipe doesn't work? The damage he
has done to the current experiments is irreparable; this entire scenario is a
loss."
            "He is too big a risk, yes." My vision finally focused on the one
they'd called Mr. Hand. "We must be rid of him. We will remove him from the
experiments."
            I didn't have to fake my fear. If they found out that what they
held was only a shell and not the real me at all who knew what they'd do?
"Don't," I gasped, struggling against the straps that held my wrists and ankles
to the down. "I swear I won't do it again, just let me go - let me go back to
my apartment, I'll do whatever you want me to, I swear it - "
            "Dispose of him," the old one said simply. Mr. Hand stepped
forward, the blade for his shining knife springing open, and before I could
utter another word he'd drawn the blade across my throat.


            I awoke disoriented, mind filled with memories of pain and blood
and the cold, dead hands of the Strangers. I cried out before I could stop
myself, gasping for breath.
            One hand on my chest held me pinned down as I struggled to grasp
hold of reality. My eyes focused on Daniel over top of me, lips drawn in a
tight line, watching me wake. He was holding some kind of strange copper
syringe with fins on it, and he clicked them closed around the glass, the
needle retracting into the syringe as he tucked it into the breast pocket of
his coat. "It's all right. You're safe. The rouse held. They believe you dead."
            "They killed me!" I couldn't get my mind away from the knife, from
the bright hot pain as it had slid through my skin like I was soft as butter.
            "They killed the shell," Daniel corrected me, still holding me
down, voice low and calm. "They did just as we planned. They think that you're
dead."
            I tried to focus on my breathing to calm down, taking slow, deep
breaths. I was lying on a sofa in a rather bland, sparsely furnished apartment,
Daniel perched at my side. "I don't understand... how did you get me out of
there?"
            At this Daniel looked a little uncomfortable, glancing away. "I
didn't. Because of your... unique abilities I realized the safest way to hide
you would be in plain sight. You're still in the pod I placed you in. You're
controlling a new shell."
            I looked down at my hands, focusing, making them shift and lengthen
before turning back to normal. I had to admit that he had a point. "But what if
they find me? Won't they notice that I'm still controlling one of these
things?"
            Daniel shook his head. "Both you and your shell have been removed
from the experiments entirely. You're completely off their grid. I connected
you to this shell manually, and they can't trace that back to you unless they
actually have this Shell." He moved back and stood, the metal bars around his
legs moving fluidly with him as he straightened. "Your name was Larry Byrne
when they took you. Lawrence Francis Byrne. You were a police detective. That's
all I was able to find out."
            I sat up, shaking my head slowly. My body felt strong and whole,
with none of the weakness I'd felt when he'd carried me between pods. Then I
let the name play on my tongue, repeating it softly. Larry. It felt better.
More natural. "Thank you."
            He nodded, watching me with an unreadable expression. "I can't stay
long, and it's dangerous for you if I spend much time near you. But I will come
back to speak with you. I can control all of the shells here remotely. I will
borrow one to come explain more."
            My mind still hadn't quite been able to sort out this idea of
remote controlled avatars, something that seemed vaguely horrifying. "How will
I know you?"
            "Give me a code word?"
            "Francis," I replied without hesitation, and gave a soft laugh.
What a ridiculous middle name.
            Daniel cracked a small, half smile as well. "All right. You can
stay in this apartment, it's unused for now, but furnished and safe and there
is food in the fridge. I've connected you to this Shell with the programming to
make you look like yourself; I had hoped it would be less of a shock for you. I
do not recommend going out without changing yourself significantly. Perhaps
female would be the best disguise for now."
            I stared at him. "I can turn myself into a woman?"
            He did smile at that. "You can be anything you like, and the more
you experiment the more you will discover this. You've already been a woman
four times in the past." He straightened as the light on the side of his
glasses began to flicker, rising up a few inches off the carpet with the
strange metal boots. "I need to return. Don't take any chances, Larry. And
whatever happens, make sure you are back in this apartment by midnight. The
days are twelve hours only. Always night. I will explain when I see you again."
            "All right," I replied, but before I could say anything else he was
gone.


            I took Daniel's advice for a few days, making myself into a curvy
bombshell of a woman any time I went out, long dark hair and brown doe eyes,
full breasts and curved hips. She was beautiful, but it felt strange. Fake. I
felt ungainly in the body, and I had to teach myself to walk as a woman, to
adjust for the change in shape, the sway of my hips. Being a woman did have its
advantages, though. I certainly didn't mind the attention I got when I went
out. It was strangely alluring to see men look at me with lust in their eyes,
buy me drinks, open doors for me.
            As soon as I was in the apartment I was back to being me, which was
a relief. Now that I knew what I really looked like it was disconcerting to
change myself, much more than when I'd originally started experimenting. More
than anything I just wanted to be myself.
            My second night out as the brunette I was sitting at a table in the
corner of a lounge with a guy I'd met on the street - strong, tanned, ruggedly
scruffy and all together too good looking for his own good. One of the few
things I'd quickly become certain about in this bizarre world I'd fallen into
was that I was definitely not sexually interested in women. We'd just ordered
drinks when he stopped mid sentence, freezing and staring at me.
            I wondered suddenly if I had something in my teeth and gave him a
questioning smile, to which he blinked rapidly. "Francis?"
            I stared at him. I'd given my name as Laura.... "Jesus Christ.
Daniel?"
            He lifted a finger to his mouth. "You need to leave here. There's a
serial killer stalking his prey, it's too risky for you and they're watching
this place too closely." He glanced over me, mouth turning into the same
discerning little frown I'd seen on him when I met him in person. "Perhaps it
is not wise to make yourself so attractive."
            "Perhaps," I agreed. "I'm not really digging this whole female
business, anyway. I'll make something up to this guy and leave."
            "Go now," he said with a little shake of his head. "I'll take care
of him. Stay home this evening and I'll try to come by and speak with you."
            I nodded, getting to my feet. "Thank you," I said, and left.


            Time in the city was something I had to adjust myself to.
Everything I knew was built on a twenty four hour day - roughly equal parts day
and night. Now I had to start thinking in twelve-hour chunks, with no day to
break up the ongoing night. I quickly discovered that the city still worked on
a twenty-four hour schedule, sleeping through most of one twelve hour chunk and
then living the second, with about half the populace awake at a time. Everyone
thought they worked the night shift. Everyone thought they slept through the
day.
            It was nearly four in the morning - or afternoon, depending on how
you looked at it - when Daniel came by. He was in a male shell again, younger
than my date had been this time, a man with pretty green eyes and dark curls
that I thought rather more handsome than my date had been as well. "I'm looking
for Francis," he replied when I called through the door to him, and I opened it
with a smile.
            "Hey. Thanks for stopping by, please come in." I took a moment to
admire the shell, taking his coat and hanging it on the rack. "Don't these
people notice when you borrow their shells? Don't the - the Strangers notice?"
            "No," Daniel replied. "This one was about to go to bed in one of
the apartments upstairs, and I will return him to bed before I leave, he won't
notice a thing. He is not being utilized in an experiment at the moment, he is
more... scenery. The Strangers are not watching him. I see you're back to
yourself again?"
            "It... it feels more natural," I tried to explain, wondering if I
made any sense. "Are you sure I can't go out like this?"
            Daniel hesitated, and then shook his head. "It isn't wise. If there
is no specific need for a certain appearance in the experiments - for instance
being remarkably beautiful or of a different gender - a shell is usually based
on the physical appearance of the person controlling it. It seems to take more
easily. I believe this may have been why you started trying to change your own
appearance. To make yourself... natural. So the Strangers are aware of what you
really look like and more likely to take note of you if you are not disguised."
            "I guess that makes sense," I replied, frowning as I thought about
it. "Would you like something to drink?"
            "A cup of tea would be lovely. I expect us to talk for some time."
He followed me into the kitchen, taking the tea kettle out of a cabinet I
hadn't yet looked in and filling it with water. "The empty apartments in the
city are normally much the same. It's easier for them just to replicate things
over and over. I am afraid that they lack imagination in many aspects. If you
need to move on to another apartment in a different building I will let you
know."
            "You mean if they get too close?"
            He glanced back at me. "Something like that. You're always home by
midnight, yes?"
            "Yeah. Or noon. Why is it always night?" It was hard to blurt out
everything I wanted to ask, everything that was running around in my head. How
had we ended up here? Who the hell were the Strangers and what was the point of
keeping us all locked away in pods, remote controlling these shells?
            Daniel hesitated in the middle of scooping loose tea into a tea
ball. "Let me finish making the tea and then I will start at the beginning."
            "This sounds like quite a story."
            "It is merely the first time I have told it." He was more than a
little tense, I noticed suddenly, hands trembling as he dropped the ball into
the teapot and filled it with water from the whistling kettle.
            "Will you be able to stay long enough to finish?"
            "I am allowed eight hours of sleep every two cycles. Every twenty
four hours. It will be the best time to see you. If there is an emergency I can
contact you temporarily by any Shell that is around you like I did in the bar,
but it's more difficult to control a Shell if I cannot give it my full
attention. If I cannot do anything else I may be able to borrow your mouth."
            I stared at him. "Excuse me?"
            He looked at me, becoming completely still. It was then that I felt
my lips move, heard words from my mouth that weren't my own. "I can speak
through you without controlling the rest of you." Then green eyes blinked
rapidly, the still face becoming animate again. "My apologies. I wasn't certain
it would be possible. I promise I will not do so without it being completely
necessary. I imagine it is a little...."
            "Freaky as hell?"
            He smiled, eyes sparkling with good humour. "Yes."
            Realizing suddenly that he was doing everything in what I'd come to
think of as my apartment, I found two clean teacups in the cupboard and put
them on a tray, pouring sugar into a bowl and adding a small spoon. It was a
motley tea service, but he didn't seem to mind, following me with the bottle of
milk as I took the tea into the sitting room. The couch was beige, utilitarian,
as was the coffee table. I thought about a hundred, a thousand apartments that
looked just like this, a thought that was somehow sobering. I sat, watching him
pour tea for me and himself adding sugar and milk to his own and stirring it.
            "I don't know where we came from," he started finally, "Just that
it was called Earth. I expect we had daylight there, and all of the things I
put into memories that do not exist in this place. Mountains, forests. The
beach. The Strangers brought us here to experiment on us, to find out what
makes us human. To find out the difference between these inanimate shells and
the humans asleep in the pods like you are. They are parasitic in nature, you
see. Small insect like creatures that inhabit those white faced shells you saw,
making them animate. They cannot understand how humans can think and reason and
feel without anything inside their heads."
            "Experiment on us? How?"
            Daniel took a sip of his tea. His voice in this shell was lighter
and less throaty than when I'd met him before, a clear tenor that was beautiful
to listen to. Perhaps that was why he'd picked this shell. "Every night at
midnight the city sleeps. All the shells, your own included. The Strangers
change the buildings, the layout of the city. Sometimes the era. In a few
weeks, for instance, we will move from the late twentieth century to the mid
twenty-second. I will try to prepare you for the most drastic changes. They
change the city – the layout, the buildings - to create scenarios, to observe
and examine how humans react in certain circumstances. And I create the
players. I change the shells to their specifications; I program an entire
lifetime of memory, a new identity. Then they watch what happens. When they
have seen enough, the memories are erased and they start again. This is why you
can only remember fragments of your life as Henry. Somehow your mind has
learned to interface with the computer I use, the computer that programs the
appearance of the shells. You have learned to change yourself. I do not know
why or how."
            For a long moment I couldn't reply, couldn't do anything but stare
down at the still full teacup in my hands and play his words over again in my
mind. "If what you say is true...."
            "It is."
            I stared up at him. It was unbelievable, but how else could I
explain everything I'd seen? What choice did I have but to believe him? "You
can program an entire human memory?"
            "Yes. It is a... rather complicated process, and what I create is
by no means as extensive as an actual lifetime of memories. Some things are
naturally ingrained, of course - language, for instance. How to walk, abilities
involving muscle memory, like how to play the piano. How to use a knife and
fork. Basic, every day things. Some habits as well, quirks of personality.
Addictions. For the rest I provide a framework of life with detailed key
moments that determine identity and personality. The rest the subject fills in
themselves, or simply never needs to remember."
            The reality of what my life would be like going forward was a
sobering thought. No one I talked to would have any permanency; there would
always be the risk of their entire identity changing the next night. But it was
better than being dead, wasn't it? I took a large swallow of tea. "Is there
anyone else like me?"
            "Not that I am aware of." Daniel finished his cup of tea and set it
back in the saucer, reaching over to touch my hand where I'd let it rest on the
cushions of the couch. "I'm sorry, Larry."


            After Daniel left I went to the corner store and bought a pack of
cigarettes, not even bothering to change my appearance. Then I returned to the
apartment building, slipping out the window at the end of the apartment hallway
to sit on the wrought iron fire escape to smoke. I watched the people walking
by as I did, wondering how long they'd been them, looked like they did now. I
tried to imagine doing this day after day, meeting people who would change at a
moment's notice.
            I lit up another cigarette.
            I was on my third when I heard steps on the fire escape above me,
though I didn't turn to look. A moment later I heard a familiar voice behind
me. "Have a light?"
            I turned to see Daniel behind me, a package of cigarettes in hand.
I nodded, digging my lighter out of my coat pocket. "Surprised to see you back
so soon."
            Eyebrows knit over green eyes. "I'm sorry?"
            Shit. Of course this wasn't Daniel, this was the regular occupant
of the Shell. God, thinking about it like that gave me chills. I gave a laugh
that was hopefully as embarrassed as I felt. "Oh - sorry, I thought we'd met
before."
            He smiled then, wide and warm and completely different than when
Daniel had borrowed his shell. "I'm sure I'd remember you if we had. I'm
Jonathan Williams."
            "Larry Byrne," I said before I could stop myself. But Daniel hadn't
said anything about not using my real name, right? I flicked my lighter and
held the flame towards him with one hand to shield it from the breeze, smiling
as he leaned in to light his cigarette. Beautiful man. Daniel had good taste.
            "Thank you," he replied, taking a long drag and then exhaling. "You
just move in to the building?"
            I hadn't really thought about how to explain my life. Quickly I
tried to think of a story that wouldn't sound too abnormal. "A little over a
month ago, I've just been out of town visiting relatives. You like it here?"
            The dark haired man shrugged, looking out into the street. "It's an
apartment building. Nice enough, quiet. Not a bad place for a single guy to
settle down. What about you? Just you and the missus?"
            I chuckled softly. "Just me. Don't really have time for women."
Don't really want women, I resisted the urge to add.
            Jonathan gave a sympathetic nod. "I hear that. You new to the area
too, or just the building?"
            Now why hadn't I thought of that explanation? "The whole damn city,
actually. Good thing the Chinese place down the road does delivery."
            He laughed at that. "Yeah, very true. If you ever want to eat out I
can recommend a few places. Some really good pubs around here that cater to us
nocturnal folk. Could go for a drink or two."
            I flicked the butt of my cigarette over the edge of the railing.
"That'd be really great. Thank you."
            "Chance to get out." He shrugged and smiled, tossing away his
cigarette as well, glancing at his watch. "Christ, almost sun up already?
Better get some sleep. Listen, I work the night shift at the bank, seven at
night until three in the morning, but I'm usually awake until about this time.
Stop by number 528 whenever you like, we'll go out."
            "Thanks. I will." I watched him head back up the fire escape, eyes
indulgently fixed on his ass as I wondered how I was going to manage to run
into him while wearing a form that he'd definitely want for more than just a
few friendly drinks.
            Maybe this life wasn't completely pointless after all.


            The next evening - or rather, about ten hours later - I waited in
the lobby of the apartment building with the newspaper, everything about my
appearance forgettable. When I saw Jonathan appear from the elevators I let him
leave, closing my paper before following casually. He was wearing a charcoal
suit with a dark green tie that brought out his eyes, obviously dressed for
business, a slate gray overcoat on over the top. At first I was worried he'd go
to the car park or hail a cab, something that would be much more difficult for
me to track. Thankfully the weather was nice enough for walking, and his
destination didn't turn out to be far. I tailed him from about half a block
away, stopping to buy a hot dog from a vendor when he stopped at a red light,
munching as I continued after him.
            When he disappeared into the bank I waited outside for a time, not
wanting to seem like I was obviously following him. Finally I went back in,
taking a bite of the remains of my hot dog as I did. I saw Jonathan
immediately, prim and proper behind the glass, exchanging money with an older
woman. A bank teller. I could work with that. I smiled, considering the option
of staying for a time and just watching, just to see if there were any women he
was friendlier with than others so I could discern his type....
            "Excuse me, sir. You can't eat that in here. This is a bank."
            The security guard that approached me was elderly, and his glare
looked like it was the strongest part of him. I smiled and shrugged. "Sorry,
sir. I'll be on my way." I glanced back at Jonathan, then turned and left,
making my way home.
            I brought back the brunette bombshell. I was familiar with her look
and the feel of her body, and I knew for certain she'd turn heads. Preferably
his. The thought of having sex as a female was a little bit weird, but I
figured it wouldn't hurt to try it once, right?
            I'd discovered quite early on that if I created myself an identity
instead of just a face, essential details would come with it, almost by
default. Maybe it was my mind filling them in, or maybe Daniel's freaky
computer system. Whatever the method, I always had ID on me with my current
face and whatever name I wanted, and cash. The richer I imagined my identity,
the more cash came with it. I'd spent a couple hours turning myself rich,
emptying the cash out of my wallet, turning poor and then turning rich again.
The end result was a good amount of cash that I squirreled away, using it to
buy food and cigarettes and beer and occasionally clothes just for the
experience of shopping for a nice suit.
            Half an hour before his shift was over, I got ready to leave the
apartment.
            When I turned myself into Laura this time it was into a carefully
considered dress - classy without being too expensive, sexy without being too
revealing. It was a deep cranberry that worked well with her dark hair and the
charcoal grey blazer that I buttoned on over the top. It turned it from a
sleeveless, knee-length cocktail number to something that could possibly be
work appropriate, barring my ample cleavage.
            I tucked a good amount of cash into my handbag, which already held
her wallet and identification. Then, checking the time, I headed back to the
bank, walking carefully in the stiletto heels I had finally gotten used to
balancing in. I took a cab, and arrived at the bank fifteen minutes before the
end of his shift, making my way in with quiet confidence and getting in line in
front of Jonathan's teller window. I gave him what I hoped was a sultry smile
when I reached the front of the queue. "I'd like to open a personal account, if
I may. Can I do that here?"
            I'd thought up my story ahead of time this time, all about moving
into the area to start fresh after a broken engagement. He didn't ask, though,
completely professional as he helped me fill out the forms and took my ID,
entering me into the computer system. My flirting looks and words were met with
no reaction, though he did seem a little taken back by the amount of cash I
wanted to deposit.
            "I sold my engagement ring," I said, perhaps a little too quickly,
and gave a sigh. "He cheated on me with my sister."
            "I'm sorry to hear that," he replied, and gave me a receipt.
            Well, fuck.
            I thanked him and left the bank at two minutes before close,
standing outside and pondering the situation with a little frown. I considered
a cigarette, and had just pulled the package from my handbag when Jonathan came
out of the main bank doors, wearing his overcoat. He stopped to pull it more
tightly around himself as the wind picked up, and I took the opening.
            "Excuse me... I don't suppose you happen to have a light, do you?"
            He turned, seeming a little surprised to be addressed, and smiled.
"Of course. It's a little windy though... here..."
            Jonathan held his coat open to block the wind, flicking the lighter
while I leaned in to light my cigarette. I looked up at him through my
eyelashes. "Thank you. Would you like one...?"
            He produced his own pack in reply, taking one out with a little
smile. I took his lighter from him and managed to light it despite the
awkwardness of well-manicured fingernails, lighting his cigarette in return. I
let my fingers brush his as I handed the lighter back, but he didn't seem
affected. Part of me wondered if I was just shit at picking up men, but I'd
never lacked for attention in this body before....
            I took a drag off my cigarette and gave it one last try. "I don't
suppose you could recommend a place for a girl to have a couple of drinks?"
            Jonathan gave a soft laugh. "I'm sorry... Laura, was it? I don't
think the bars I generally frequent are really your type."
            I echoed the laugh, lowering my eyes and touching his arm. "I don't
mind if things are a bit rough...."
            "I think you would mind that they're only filled with gay men," he
replied back, smile somewhere between uncomfortable and amused.
            Oh.
            OH.
            Well, that certainly made things much more interesting. I forced a
laugh, stepping back. "Gotcha. I'm sorry. Thank you again for your help and the
light," I replied, and started down the sidewalk in the opposite direction to
the apartment, all the while trying to figure out how to get back home and back
to myself and then to his apartment as soon as humanly possible.
            I changed my appearance in the quiet corner of a department store,
taking on the unremarkable male personage I'd worn that morning once I was well
and truly out of sight of everyone. It wouldn't do for the brunette to be seen
coming back into the apartment, and I rather hoped he'd forget about her all
together. Part of me wondered if it was wise to initiate an affair with someone
when I looked like myself, but he'd already met me on the fire escape and
nothing had happened. Daniel had said that The Strangers weren't closely
watching him. It was a good enough rationalization as any.
            I stopped by a liquor store and purchased a recommended vintage of
wine, then returned to the apartment building, making sure no one saw me enter
my apartment. The building was half empty, but I still managed to remember to
be cautious despite my mind being filled with very pleasant thoughts about dark
curls and pretty green eyes. In my apartment I stood in front of the mirror,
changing the appearance of my clothes about ten times before finally settling
on a blue-gray button down shirt and a casual black suit jacket that I wore
undone over the top with charcoal pinstripe slacks. Then I took a deep breath,
caught up the bottle of wine, and took the stairs to the fifth floor to knock
on his door.
            It took a moment for him to respond, long enough that I was a
little worried that he'd gone somewhere other than home after work. When
Jonathan finally opened the door, however, his face lit up with a smile,
completely opposite to how he'd reacted to Laura. "Larry!"
            I grinned and held up the bottle of wine, leaning against one side
of the door frame. "Fancy a drink before dinner?"
            Jonathan's smile widened, his gaze moving slowly and obviously down
my body. "Are you asking me on a date?"
            "Would you say yes if I was?"
            "I invited you here, didn't I? Come in." He stepped back from the
door and I came in without hesitation, slipping out of my shoes as he shut the
door behind me, watching him pad barefoot towards the kitchen. "Want me to open
that now and let it breathe?"
            "Sounds good to me." The apartment was much the same as my own,
other than the decor being a slightly different shade - even the placement of
the furnishings was the same. "Nice place."
            He shrugged, screwing in a corkscrew and tugging out the cork of
the wine with practiced ease. "It's a place to hang your hat. A bit bland, and
I'm not sure why I've never really done anything with it. I'll get around to
it, I suppose."
            His comments on the decor were something that reminded me too
starkly that this world was a construct for him - the apartment, his identity,
his memory. It definitely wasn't something that I wanted to be thinking about.
"Work sucks the life out of you?"
            Jonathan chuckled. "Try standing on the inside of a bank teller
window all night. It's a beautifully monotonous hell." He took down two wine
glasses and half filled each of them, leaving them to sit and breathe, and then
turned to me, leaning back on the counter. "What do you do?"
            "Freelance editing," I replied with a forced grimace. "Mostly grunt
work for dime store novel publishers. You can't imagine some of the trash I've
torn my hair out over."
            "Thank god the work day's done," he noted, and I nodded, giving a
half smirk.
            "Time to spice things up a bit maybe?"
            Jonathan nodded, a little smile playing around the corners of his
mouth. "Have I told you that I like the way you think?" He offered one of the
glasses of wine to me, holding his own in a toast. "To unexpectedly handsome
neighbours?"
            "I'll drink to that," I replied, toasting him and taking a sip of
the wine. He watched me as he sipped his own, and then set it aside on the
counter before curling his fingers around mine on the stem of my glass, leaning
in to press his lips to mine.
            I gave a soft moan into his mouth, setting the wine glass aside on
the counter blindly to free both hands to slip around his waist and pull him
closer. Jonathan's lips were warm and yearning against my own, tasting a little
of wine as I flicked my tongue against them. I groaned as he caught my bottom
lip between his own, sucking on it and nibbling gently. It sent an unexpected
thrill of arousal down my spine, and while I couldn't specifically remember
ever doing this before part of me was familiar with it, the joy of sharing
passion with another.
            "Been wanting to suck on your lips since the moment I saw you," he
breathed against my mouth.
            "I've been wanting you to." I smoothed my hands down to cup his ass
and pull our bodies together, smiling at his soft moan of pleasure, at the
little buck his hips gave against mine. He'd slipped one hand into my hair when
he kissed me, and with the wine glass released he tangled the other in the back
of my jacket, kisses growing more yearning as I yielded to the press of his
tongue. It felt good to just lose myself in the moment, in the feel of his body
pressed to mine, in the heat of his kisses. It felt good just to focus on
sensation and set aside all the insanity of this nightmarish world for the
pleasure of his embrace. This wasn't about whether or not I had a place in this
world, just a purely physical connection to this beautiful man, just the twine
of our tongues and the hungry slide of our hands over clothes.
            Jonathan broke from my mouth to trail hungry kisses along my jaw,
teeth scraping against my skin, breath warm. "Let's postpone dinner."
            "Should definitely work up an appetite," I agreed, tilting my head
back for him, drawing a sharp hiss of pleasure as he nipped at the soft skin
under my ear. "Jesus Christ, you're gorgeous."
            "Not too bad yourself," he replied, and the hand that had been
tangled in my hair smoothed over my chest, starting to tug the buttons undone.
Jonathan was still in the remains of the suit I'd seen him in earlier, the
jacket discarded and the tie loosened, and I tugged his shirt from his slacks
to stroke my hands up into his undershirt, caressing bare skin.
            "Think we're going to make a mess of your kitchen if we don't take
this somewhere else," I murmured, and Jonathan pulled back with a soft laugh,
picking up his glass of wine again. He hooked his fingers into my belt, running
his thumb up the length of my erection where it strained at my slacks. I arched
into the touch with a soft groan of pleasure before I could stop myself, which
made him smile.
            "Let's go some place more comfortable then." Jonathan took a sip of
his wine before tugging me towards the kitchen doorway. I followed, taking a
swallow of my own wine and enjoying the tart sweetness of it on my tongue,
wondering if it would taste the same if I licked it from his skin.
            The wine was soon forgotten about once we entered his bedroom, set
aside with his to free my hands for the much nicer task of undressing him,
tugging the shirt from his shoulders, tugging his pants undone so I could
stroke over the lines of muscle that ran down from his hips as I pushed his
boxers off. He still wore the tie, sexy and almost obscene around his neck, and
I gave the knot a little tug. "Going to keep your tie on while you fuck me?"
            The words were out of my mouth before I'd even thought about what I
was saying, but the thought of it, the idea of being pinned under him as he
drove into me sent a rush of arousal through me. I didn't have to remember sex
to know that I liked this, craved this like I'd craved his kisses and his
company. Definitely a good idea.
            Jonathan's fingers paused on my slacks and he looked up at me,
green eyes dark and pupils wide in the dim light of his bedroom. He smiled,
warm and promising, tugging my slacks and underwear down to join the rest of my
clothes on his floor. "Yes. And I'm going to keep it on while I blow you."
            That was an even better idea.
            I ended up on my back amidst the hastily flung back blankets on his
bed, thighs looped around his waist as we kissed, rocking together slowly, my
erection hard and aching against his own. Jonathan's mouth was intoxicating,
kissing me breathless, finally moving away to kiss down my throat, torturing my
skin with little kisses and nips before tugging on my nipple with his teeth. He
let his weight rest on one forearm, his free hand slipping down to tease my
thighs, cupping my sack to stroke and tease me before he finally ran his tongue
up the length of my erection with a soft groan. I choked back a cry at the
slick heat of his mouth, at the tease of his tongue as he continued to cover my
skin in slow licks. "Oh god, that feels good."
            "Good." Jonathan's lips parted over the head of my cock, sucking at
the tip, groaning as he swirled his tongue around me, lapping at my head,
tonguing the slit. It made me almost madly aroused, tangling my fingers in his
curls, trying not to buck up into his mouth. "I'm a little out of practice," he
murmured against my skin before taking my cock in his mouth again, his fingers
moving from their gentle tease of my balls to curl around the shaft of my
erection, stroking me slowly as he lavished attention on me, taking me deeper
with each bob of his head.
            "Me too," I managed to gasp, because god if it didn't feel like
discovering these sensations for the first time. "Jesus Christ, lover, your
mouth - !"
            Jonathan gave a little satisfied hum around me, taking me deeper,
groaning as the head of my cock hit the back of his throat. Out of practice or
not, he was soon swallowing me down, fingers clenched at my hips and green eyes
shut in pleasure as he took me deep in his throat with practiced ease. Before I
knew it I was grabbing at the sheets under me just to hold off, the heat of his
mouth stoking my passion, pulling tight the knot of sensation in my core that
was quickly building, threatening to break free. I tried to gasp a warning. "Oh
fuck, Jon - so good - gonna make me come!"
            He pulled away with a final flick of his tongue to the head of my
cock, wrapping his fingers around me instead, jerking my cock in firm, even
strokes as he looked up the length of my body, green eyes dark with lust. His
tongue licked around the base of my cock, then moved down farther, sucking one
of my balls into his mouth and then the other, teasing them with his lips and
tongue.
            "Jesus Christ - !" I was coming before I could stop myself, in hot,
thick spurts, and he stroked every bit of my seed from me to stain my stomach
and chest. When he sat up again it was with a little satisfied smile, and he
ran a finger through my come before licking it off with a little appreciative
hum. I gave a soft, breathless laugh, a shiver of pleasure running through a
body that felt warm and languid in the afterglow of climax. "God, you're good."
            He gave a little pleased smile, not resisting as I tugged him down
to me and caught his mouth with my own, kissing him deeply, licking the bitter
traces of my seed from his lips. "Glad you enjoyed."
            "Mmhmm. Makes me want you inside me," I replied, smoothing a hand
down his chest to curl around his cock, stroking him lightly, almost teasingly.
Jonathan gave a low groan, fingers stroking my stomach, slick with my come,
then pressing between my thighs to stroke teasing circles over my entrance, a
shiver of sensation on hypersensitive nerves. It became the focal point of my
languid relaxation, his fingers easing into me carefully, and meeting little
resistance. I let my eyes fall closed, rocking up against his fingers with an
appreciative sigh, tilting my head back to the kisses he mouthed along my jaw
and throat.
            "God, you're hot. You're so tight. Wanted you like this the moment
I saw you...."
            I drew a sharp breath through my teeth as his fingers crooked
inside me, teasing against my sweet spot. "Mmm - on the balcony? You wanted to
fuck me then?"
            "Before that," he admitted with a low, throaty laugh. "Saw you
coming into the building when I was out on the fire escape having a smoke. Came
down to ask for a light just so I could talk to you."
            The words sent a thrill of delight through me, and I arched up
against his fingers, meeting the darkened gaze of green eyes with my own.
"Going to show me what you wanted to do to me?"
            "Everything? It might take a while." Jonathan grinned as he pulled
back, stretching out across the bed to tug open the drawer, pulling out a
condom and a small bottle of lube. He opened the foil packaging, giving a
little appreciative noise as I helped him roll it down the length of his cock.
"Want to start out by riding me?"
            "I can do that." I straddled his thighs, taking the lube from him
and drizzling an ample amount on his cock, stroking it over him slowly as I
admired him spread out beneath me, tie flung haphazardly over his shoulder. He
was even more beautiful like this, flushed and naked and mussed from our
passion, lips pink from the force of our kisses. Curling my fingers around the
base of his cock, I let myself sink down onto him, rocking slowly as my body
stretched around the head of his cock, a shivering ache of pleasure that
crawled up my spine. "Oh, fuck...."
            Jonathan's hands clenched at my hips, urging me down more onto him,
lips parting in a throaty groan. "Oh yes. God, Lar, you feel good. Fuck yes..."
            I bit my lip and let myself buck down onto him, sheathing his cock
inside me in a rush of sensation. My body shuddered and clenched around him at
the intrusion, so for a moment I just held still, hands braced on his
shoulders, focusing on the pulse and heat of his cock inside me, forcing myself
to relax. Jonathan's hands smoothed to cup my ass, kneading at the skin,
soothing and arousing all at once, and after a moment I began to grind down
onto him slowly, gasping at the shift of his cock inside me. I knew this,
somehow, knew the pleasure and sensation of being filled with a thick cock, the
slide of two bodies together. I'd ached for it. "Missed this," I breathed,
leaning down to catch his mouth with mine as I began to rock just a little
harder, groaning against his lips.
            Jonathan stroked up and down my back as he returned the kiss with
just as much hunger, rocking with me, fucking up into me in slow, insistent
thrusts. "Mmhmm. That's it, sexy. Such a sweet little ass. You're so tight
around me, god...."
            I let myself rise up more, bracing myself on his shoulders again,
angling my hips until the thick head of his cock rubbed up inside me just right
as I sank back down onto him. It sent a stronger surge of sensation through me,
pulling a keening moan from my mouth. "Christ, your cock - !" I clenched my
eyes shut as I repeated the motion, riding the intensity of sensation, fingers
digging into his shoulders. "Feel so good fucking me, so damn good...!"
            When I met Jonathan's gaze again he was watching me through
narrowed eyes, darkened from passion. One hand smoothed up my thigh to curl
around my half-hard cock, stroking me slowly as I bucked down onto him a little
harder. "Can't tell you how sexy you are like this," he growled, jerking my
cock a little more firmly in time with the rock of my hips. "Love seeing you
taking your pleasure, so hungry for my cock...."
            It didn't take much before I was hard again, riding him hard,
gasping for breath with each thrust. "Show me how it makes you want to fuck me.
Wanna be flat on my back while you pound this gorgeous cock into me...."
            "With your legs over my shoulders?" He gave a breathless laugh,
sitting up as I pulled away, catching my mouth as he pushed me down onto the
bed, kneeling between my thighs. He pulled my calves up to rest on his
shoulders, teasing my ass with the head of his cock and giving a dark smile at
the little whimper it drew from my throat. "Touch yourself for me."
            I gave a throaty chuckle, stroking a hand down my chest without
question, stroking my cock slowly from root to tip. "Come on, sexy. Show me
what I do to you."
            Jonathan grinned, letting just the head of his cock push into me
and pop out again, eyes scanning up and down my body as if drinking in
everything about the experience. I was faintly whimpering when he finally
buried himself inside me with a hard thrust, leaning forward to push my knees
almost to my chest as he began to set a punishing pace. His hips bucked up into
me to hit against my prostate again and again, pulling breathless groans from
my throat. I caught hold of his tie as the pleasure built, pulling him down to
kiss me, sucking and nipping at his lips almost desperately as I worked my cock
in time with his thrusts. "Harder. Oh fuck, Jon, make me come - !"
            His only reply was an appreciative, husky laugh, one hand slipping
between us to cover mine on my cock, his thrusts becoming more erratic, jerking
into me hard. I let my eyes fall shut to the blissful punishment of his cock,
shuddering under him, crying out as Jonathan's face fell to my neck, biting
down at the crook of my neck as he jerked tense and came in me, bucking into me
hard. It was more than I could take, pushing me to climax again, bliss that
shuddered hot and bright through every inch of my body.
            Maybe I could do this, if it meant meeting people like him. He must
be safe to be with, or Daniel wouldn't have borrowed this shell. I could stay
with him as long as I liked, forget about everything but his smile and his
pretty green eyes and the bliss of his lips on mine.
            We ordered take out at one point, spicy Indian food from a shop I
hadn't tried before, sitting naked in bed and feeding each other, washing it
down with creamy mango lassis and the rest of the wine. It led to half-drunken,
languid lovemaking, and eventually I fell asleep tangled in his arms.


            Jonathan and I had sex again in his shower the next morning before
he left for work, and I spent the day trying to keep myself busy, time crawling
along at a snail's pace. He'd handed me the spare key to his apartment, and I
fully planned to be waiting for him when he got home with a bottle of wine,
wearing nothing but a big red bow. I went through half a pack of cigarettes
waiting before finally heading back to his apartment, pulling off my clothes
before changing myself just enough to be wearing the aforementioned bow,
sprawling out on his bed. It was worth it for the hunger in his eyes when he
got home, looking like he wanted very much to devour me. He slipped out of his
clothes as he crossed the room, kneeling over me and grinning as he untied the
bow, and what followed that was nothing less than hours of mind blowing sex. I
liked Jonathan, much more than the tiny sensible part of me knew I should. It
wasn't any kind of grand romance, but he was fun and ridiculously sexy, and it
was just as enjoyable to lay sprawled out on his bed, talking in the aftermath
of sex as it the actual sex itself was. I'd needed this more than I knew,
needed to just connect with someone and forget about the strangeness of the
world around us.
            "I really like you," Jonathan remarked at one point, watching me
with a little smile, fingers stroking through my hair. "More than just for the
sex, which is really fucking amazing. But you're fun. We should keep doing
this. Maybe actually go out sometime."
            I chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss him. "If we can stay clothed
long enough to get out of your apartment."
            "Hmm." He returned my kiss as he thought about that, fingers
smoothing down to continue their caress on my spine. "We could go out to a sex
club."
            I had a sudden mental image of being bent over a leather saddle
while he fucked me where everyone could see, and it made my cock twitch with
the unexpected sexiness of it. "You have a deal."
            When I woke up the next night to his lips on the back of my neck,
his hand slowly coaxing my morning erection to full hardness, it was with a
contentment that I hadn't felt since this whole crazy nightmare had started. I
was grinding back against his cock before I knew it, urging him to take me,
voice low and husky and desperate. I needed to feel him, needed to live in this
moment as intensely and as long as I could. We didn't even bother with
protection this time, and he rocked up inside me with slow, languid thrusts. I
was still slick and relaxed from the night before and yielded to the push of
his cock easily, sighing with each pulse of pleasure as we moved together.
            "So glad I met you," he breathed, lavishing kisses on my neck and
shoulder. He kept one arm tight around my waist, holding us together while his
other hand teased my bare skin, pinching my nipples to pebbled points, stroking
over my hips and thighs. "You're so amazing, Lar. Feel so alive when I'm with
you. Oh god - !"
            I bucked back against him, managing a whimper in agreement, crying
out as his fingers curled around my cock, stroking slowly up and down my shaft
as we moved together. "Make me so hard for you," I breathed, groaning as his
thumb circled the head of my cock, slicking pre-come down my shaft. "Christ,
you feel good. Feel so good inside me, Jon...!"
            He eased my top leg up more to support me on the bed, shifting to
straddle my other thigh and drive deeper into me, leaning over me to catch my
mouth with his own. I let myself get lost in it entirely, in the warmth and
beauty of his body, the rush of pleasure that he sent through me each time he
hit up against my prostate, the stroke of his hand on my cock. Let’s do this
forever, I wanted to say. Help me forget that this world isn't real. Help me
forget that I don't exist. I was crying out with each thrust before I knew it,
shuddering, riding the edge of pleasure, everything so much more acute with the
mix of joy and helplessness I felt, but when I felt him buck into me, tense and
erratic, felt the heat of his seed fill me, at last then I could let my own
pleasure eclipse everything in the world but him.
            When we were finally dressed we traded languid kisses in the
entryway of his apartment. "Come see me in the morning," he murmured, hands
cupping my ass as he held me to him, warm and possessive. "We'll go out to that
club I told you about. It's all masked once we're there, so you don't have to
worry about being recognized." He nuzzled along my jaw, voice low and
promising. "I want everyone to see how beautiful you are, how good you look
when I'm fucking you."
            I nodded, catching his mouth again. "I'll be here. I promise."

 
            I didn't meet him in his room that night, but stood in front of the
mirror in my apartment as I went through clothes, finally settling on a pair of
butter soft black leather pants that hugged every curve of my ass and a black
button down shirt made of silk that was just a little bit sheer. I pulled on a
thigh length, deep green pea coat with it, thinking the whole ensemble made me
look ridiculously leggy and hot.
            When I knocked on his apartment door, however, there was no answer.
I tried again, puzzled - there was no way he wouldn't be home from work by now,
right? - and then waited for another five minutes, a cold knot of dread
starting to form in the base of my stomach. Every day at midnight we slept,
Daniel had said. I sometimes recalled waking up from those sleeps, slumped on
my couch or curled on the floor of my apartment, but mostly my mind seemed to
gloss over it. Still, every twelve hours we slept, and the Strangers changed
the world around us, gave people new lives, new identities.
            I used his spare key, which still fit the lock, but when I walked
in the apartment was empty. It had been barren before, but now there was no
trace of Jonathan at all - the empty wine bottles in the trash had vanished, as
had the contents of his wardrobe, the personal items on the bureau in his room.
The bed didn't even smell like him anymore.
            I closed the door to his apartment and locked it with shaking
hands, ice churning in my stomach. I wasn't prepared for this. I wasn't ready
for this. It couldn't be over yet.
            Finally I caught the landlord for the apartment building in the
office on the first floor. "I had a letter put in my box for apartment five
twenty eight," I told her, "Could you see that the tenant there gets it? It
looks like it must be important."
            The landlord flipped through her record book and gave a little
shake of her head. "Better write 'Return to Sender' on it, dear. Five twenty
eight has been vacant for three months."


            I couldn't cope with the idea that Jonathan wasn't coming back,
though I knew it was true. Not even that he wasn't coming back - that he didn't
exist as Jonathan anymore. That the past few days, how happy we'd been
together... the only things that remained of it were my own memories and this
aching sense of loss.
            I smoked the rest of my cigarettes on the way to the bank, tossing
the last one in an ashtray before going inside. The security guard was
different, though his name tag was still the same, and when I asked about a
teller named Jonathan Williams he told me there was no one who worked at the
bank by that name.
            Finally I managed to find a gay bar and proceeded to get very, very
drunk. I had propositions - in pants like that, who wouldn't? - but I couldn't
bring myself to take anyone up on them. What was the point? Even if I found a
connection or friendship or god help me love, they'd be gone again sooner or
later. Just like Jonathan.
            I managed to make it home just before noon - midnight - whatever
the fuck time it was - and when I crawled into bed, part of me hoped that I'd
wake up with a new life and no memory of this at all, just like everyone else
in the city.

***

***** Leon Husselbeck *****
Leon Husslebeck
 
            In another life, I was your apprentice, and you my mentor, and I
loved you more than anything.
            In dreams, I'm in a small stone cottage. It's cold, but clean, as
are the tattered clothes I wear. I sit next to a young girl on a rough wood
bench, holding a heavy book and reading aloud carefully. A bible. The girl lays
her head on my shoulder and smiles.
            The door to the cottage opens to reveal a man with a carefully
wrapped bundle under one arm. Father. And the girl is my sister. The man
speaks. "Landon. It's time, get ready."
            My mother has drawn water to fill a big wooden tub that's been
borrowed from the castle laundry, and she takes the stew pot out of the
fireplace, pouring the steaming water into the tub. She helps scrub me clean,
and then while my father bathes she dresses me in the contents of the parcel -
a clean new tunic made of finely woven wool and even a new pair of trews. She
is in tears, but smiling, because with luck I will not sleep under her roof
again. Like every other boy in his sixteenth summer, it's time for me to grow
up.
            When we go outside we can see clearly in the light of the moon. In
worn wooden sandals I follow my father through the streets of the town, over
the drawbridge and into the castle keep. My mother works here in the laundry
and my father in the stables, and I've served many times at the Lord's feasts,
carefully carrying trays of food from the kitchen out to the many tables. But
it isn't a feast day, and instead of the great hall we go into a smaller room
where the walls are lined with tapestries, where there are padded benches and a
roaring fire in the fireplace.
            Nine other men have been invited to bring their sons here tonight,
and four men wait to choose an apprentice - two merchants, the castle Falconer,
and most importantly for me the castle Chamberlain. This is the only man I have
eyes for - handsome, graceful and well spoken. He'd helped me once at a feast,
when a drunken merchant had spilled his glass of wine all over me as I passed.
I'd been so devastated at ruining my tunic that I was near tears, but he'd
taken me away into the castle donjon, comforting me with soft words and
dressing me in a clean tunic that was only a little worn and a little too big
for me. Then he'd taken me back to the feast, his hand warm on my shoulder,
praising me and sending me back to work. I'd always made certain to serve him
after that.
            He is a little young to be taking an apprentice - even my father
hasn't taken one yet - but all I care about is that he's talking to my father,
watching me as he does, with one broad hand resting on my shoulder.
            "He can read the bible and count," My father says proudly. "He's
quick and bright and very healthy. He would make a good chamberlain."
            "Is that so?" The Chamberlain leans down to look at me with a soft
smile, blue-grey eyes clear and beautiful. He checks my palms, my teeth, my
eyes, and his hands smooth over my arms, my torso, my legs, checking to see
that I'm fit. When he addresses me my heart feels like it will burst out of my
chest. "Would you like to learn to be the next chamberlain, Landon?"
            I wouldn't have cared if he'd been the castle gong farmer. "Oh yes,
sir. Yes please."
            Papers are signed and money is exchanged, and then the Chamberlain
lights a tallow candle, taking me away from my father and through the halls of
the castle. The money will pay in part for my father's own apprentice, will pay
the dowries for my younger sisters and help repair the house. I belong
completely to the Chamberlain now - his servant and student and companion, and
I will do everything he asks and learn to one day act as chamberlain in his
place.
             The Chamberlain's quarters are small - one room with a bookshelf
filled with ledgers and a desk covered with papers, a fireplace, a wardrobe and
a bed in a curtained alcove. There is a woven mat on the floor and the bed is
piled high with thick quilts - it's the warmest, most comfortable room I've
ever been in. The Chamberlain has never married, but I don't know enough to
wonder about that. I do wonder why he seems so worried now as he looks at me.
He cups my face with one hand, warm and gentle. "I know this is very new to
you, and probably a little frightening. I won't make you do anything that you
don't want to do. I will ask for a trundle bed for you to sleep in if you like.
If you do your best to learn I promise I will be fair and kind. I hope in time
you will come to love me as I loved my mentor."
            I want to tell him that I already love him, that I know exactly
what is expected of me. I know he will teach me to be a man. I've seen the
tender, possessive way other mentors kiss their apprentices, and the sight of
it has always created a hot throb between my thighs. My pulse thuds in my ears
as I think about the Chamberlain kissing me like that. "I would like to sleep
with you, my Lord Chamberlain. If you'd like me to."
            His eyes narrow slightly, voice lowering. "Do you know what you're
asking for?"
            I nod, feeling my cheeks heat up. "I'd like you to make me a man.
Please, sir."
            "You can call me Franklin when we're alone," the Chamberlain says
softly, and leans down to cover my mouth with his own. His lips are warm and
possessive and so different than my mother's soft pecks, and I arch closer to
him, slipping my arms up around his neck as my lips part to his kiss. This is
what I've dreamed of since the day he helped me, thought of every time I've
served him. His hands are strong and broad, warm through my tunic as he strokes
them over my body.
            Tucked in his bed with my clothes tugged off with gentle fingers, I
help him with his own and let my eyes play over his body - his firm muscles and
the light hair on his chest, his cock flushed and hard in its nest of curls,
everything about his body so different from my own. I realize I'm trembling as
his hand strokes over my cheek and down my chest, his lips warm on my jaw, my
ear. "Shhh. I promise I won't hurt you, my beautiful boy. Everything will be
all right."
            Everything else in the world is quickly eclipsed by his kisses, by
his hands on my body, teasing and stroking and worshiping me until my whole
body is flushed and aching for more sensation. He kisses my chest, my stomach,
licking at my smooth thighs before finally taking my sex in his mouth. I'd
talked with apprentices and other boys after bible study and heard about this,
but I'd always thought it was supposed to be the other way around, that I was
meant to worship him. I'd certainly not imagined it would feel like this, his
mouth hot and wet and slick, sucking on me gently as I grow harder. I bite my
lip on a shivering moan, whimpering, arching up into his mouth before I can
stop myself, but he merely hums encouragingly around me, one hand between my
thighs to stroke my sack and the soft skin behind, fingers rubbing back against
my ass, a warm tease of sensation. Pleasure builds like a storm in the pit of
my stomach as he continues, sucking and licking me until it completely
overwhelms me, my body pushing back against his fingers, shuddering and crying
out as the pleasure bursts through me in hot pulses of ecstasy.
            Franklin continues his care with me even when I'm stretched out
under him on my stomach, shivering and rocking up against the fingers that
press against my virgin ass. He covers my neck and shoulders in kisses, finally
kissing down my back, nuzzling my ass and nipping lightly, pulling apart the
cheeks to lick between them. It feels even better than his fingers, and before
long I'm whimpering in pleasure, writhing under him on the bed as his tongue
licks inside me with slow thrusts. He preps me with slick oil, with strong,
nimble fingers that fuck me, crooking just so to hit against a spot inside me
that makes pleasure burst white behind my eyes. Three fingers leave me feeling
more stretched open and full than I ever thought possible, and still I gasp for
more until the head of his cock finally presses against me.
            "My beautiful boy," he murmurs, kissing under my ear, sucking on
the skin. When he takes me it aches, a spidery discomfort that crawls up my
spine. But it feels so good, so right that my body quickly adjusts, rocking
with the slide of his thick cock inside me, inching deeper, the flared head
rubbing against that spot that makes me cry out in helpless pleasure. His lips
are tender against my neck. "Feel so good, so tight... my sweet boy...."
            The words are somehow so familiar, and I rock up against him,
needing his passion. My whole world becomes the warmth of his skin and the
bliss of our bodies moving together, his low, husky voice and the whimpers that
are drawn from my mouth. It feels like everything I am has led up to this, like
this is the one place where I truly belong in the world - wrapped in his
embrace, overwhelmed by pleasure and devotion, by the soft adorations that slip
from his lips as we make love.
            "You're so sweet," he murmurs as we lay together afterward, his
fingers stroking up and down my back again and again. His lips are warm as he
nuzzles my forehead. "I've always thought so. Such a bright, beautiful young
man. When I overheard the Falconer inviting your father to bring you here
tonight I suddenly couldn't bear the possibility of seeing you as an apprentice
to anyone else. It was so strange. It made me feel so... empty. It's why I came
tonight."
            His words are so tender, so beautiful, and I have to swallow hard
to speak past the knot in my throat. "Sir, there hasn't been a moment since the
day that you first helped me that I haven't wanted to belong to you."
            The rest of the dream is strange, just flashes of image - the
falconer's apprentice being found dead in the aviary, his body slashed to
ribbons by what appears to be the beaks and claws of the birds. The later
discovery of the bloody knife wrapped in the falconer's own tunic, his final
confession. And Frank, drawing me to him in private and holding me tightly,
trembling, his face wet as he kisses my forehead and eyelids and cheeks and
lips, whispering that he loves me over and over.
 
            Perhaps it's just a fantasy that's caused me to dream of you like
this again and again. Perhaps it's just a product of my own wishful thinking,
of watching you work every day and longing for more. You're still the perfect
gentleman, and you make me proud to be a police officer and to be your
assistant.
            Still, I wish we were more.

***
***** Larry and Daniel *****
Larry Byrne
 
            The apartment Daniel had left me in had a small library, but
strangely enough it seemed to consist of multiple copies of the same twenty
books. For the next few days I read them all several times over, escaping into
novels, trying to find anything I could to distract myself from the futility
that was my existence. When I knew each plot twist by heart I hauled a bunch of
them to the used book store, trading them for new ones - histories, military
novels, gothic horrors, everything but the trashy romance novels that filled
bins to overflowing. A few times I considered going out to look for a
meaningless, one night stand, either by going back to the gay bar or by doing
another stint as a female, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. It would be
too easy to get attached. Too easy to want to get to know my lover, and in the
end I'd just loose them.
            It was weeks later, around three in the morning when the knock came
on my door. It alarmed me - I'd kept to myself by choice and for safety, and no
one knew where my apartment was. Flashes of the time that the Strangers had
first discovered me came back too easily. I glanced through the peephole to
find a woman in a cranberry suit with pencil skirt, golden brown hair hanging
in loose waves down her back. I couldn't place her, but it was nearly
impossible to place anyone in this city where people's appearances changed so
often. "Who's there?"
            "I'm looking for Francis," the woman said.
            Daniel.
            I unbolted the door and let her into the apartment, giving her a
smile. "Hey. Everything all right, doc?"
            The shell that Daniel was controlling nodded, stepping in and
bolting the door again behind her. "You shouldn't look like your true self,"
she told me with a little worried frown. "If it had been one of them at the
door - "
            "Then I would have seen them through the peephole and changed."
            It didn't make her look any less worried. "They don't follow human
laws of propriety. Your windows..."
            I gestured to the closed curtains, behind which the windows were
closed and locked. "I'll be careful, Daniel. Thank you for coming to see me,
though. Is something wrong?"
            She opened her mouth, and then closed it again, giving a little
shake of her head. "No. No, I simply wanted to see how you were doing. I keep a
watch on your location but it has been some time since we have actually talked.
The Strangers believe that I am asleep, I have some time to stay if you are not
busy?"
            If I'm not busy. What a laugh. I shook my head. "No. These days I
hardly leave the apartment."
            Daniel looked immediately concerned. "Why? If you change yourself
there should be no danger - "
            "I can't do it," I blurted out, then stopped for a moment, looking
away. "I can go out, I can disguise myself, I just... it's completely
meaningless."
            The little worried line between Daniel's eyebrows grew, and she
stepped closer. "Meaningless?"
            "I can't do this," I said again. "I can't interact with anyone,
knowing this is all a lie. Knowing that they could be someone else tomorrow.
Jesus Christ, I've even only been with one person since this all started. I
have to get out of here."
            "You cannot leave the city," the shell replied, her voice soft with
sorrow. "There is no way out."
            "There has to be some way - "
            "It's impossible," she replied, giving a little shake of her head.
"Larry, I'm sorry. I know how this is for you, I know it very well. I've lived
with this isolation for years. I thought it would be different for you because
you can travel the city freely, because they're not watching you, but...." she
stopped and sighed, giving a little shake of her head. "I just didn't want to
see them kill you."
            I gave a slow nod, shifting my weight restlessly from one foot to
the other. "I know. I appreciate everything you've done for me, please don't
think that I don't. I'll always be in your debt for saving me. It's just a bit
difficult to cope with everything. I just... I feel so alone sometimes."
            The shell Daniel was controlling watched me, silent for a long
moment as if considering something. Then she stepped into me, watching her own
hand as she slowly smoothed it up my arm. "You don't have to be alone, Larry."
She was trembling, though trying to hide it, and I realized suddenly what she -
he - was offering me, and how long it must have been for him....
            The thought of being intimate with another person rather frightened
me, and memories of my brief time with Jonathan still hurt. But at least Daniel
wouldn't disappear. At least Daniel would remember me.
            I reached up to cup her face with one hand, the shell's skin as
warm and real to my touch as my own. "I want to. But not like this."
            "I can be anything you want me to be," she replied, voice tight and
a little rough with emotion, though I couldn't tell if it was from nerves or
desire. "Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you. Blonde, brunette,
curvy, sporty, I - it will be just as real to both of us as if we were human."
            "I want the real you," I blurted out before I could stop myself,
and her gaze jerked up to mine, frightened and vulnerable.
            "You don't," she replied, holding herself very still. "And I can't
come here, Larry."
            I remembered what he'd looked like the few times I'd seen him, his
features, the curve of his mouth. He was slight, features a little more boyish
than I was beginning to realize I preferred, but still quite attractive.... I
swallowed hard, feeling a shiver of desire. "Then just look like you. Please."
            I watched the tip of a pink tongue dart out to wet her lips, and
she stepped back from my touch, body standing completely still, her eyes blank.
Then the shell began to shift - a tiny bit taller, long hair becoming short and
blond, the curves disappearing to masculine sleekness. Her features became his,
the eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses blue. The circuitry in his eye and on the
glass of the lens were gone, as was the machine he traveled in, and his clothes
were a sleek three piece suit in chocolate brown.
            Daniel was sweet and timid when he glanced up to me, and suddenly I
wanted nothing but to take away that nervousness. To sooth us both with the
companionship we were lacking.
            "Much better," I told him softly, stepping forward and cupping his
face with my palm again. This time it was to tilt his face to mine, slipping an
arm around his waist to draw him close as I caught his mouth with my own.
            I hadn't really stopped to think about whether or not he'd want it
like this, but he answered my question wordlessly before I could worry about
it, arching up into me with a little choked groan against my mouth, his body
warm and trembling. Daniel's arms slipped up around my neck to pull me closer,
latching onto my kiss like a man drowning, lips parting eagerly to the touch of
my tongue. My body ached with desire where we touched, and I couldn't hold back
from devouring his sweet mouth with kisses, hands roaming over his body, trying
to stroke and feel and possess every part of him. I drew him back towards the
bedroom as I started to tug at his clothes, pulling his jacket and vest undone
and stroking my hands hungrily over the thin cotton of his shirt.
            Daniel returned my kisses with a single minded passion, gasping for
breath against my mouth between kisses. He pulled back just long enough to drop
his glasses on the bedside table, then his fingers made short work of the
buttons on my shirt. The touch of my hands on his body drew little needy
whimpers from deep in his throat, and the feel of his body and his obvious
hunger for me made me very hard very quickly, hips rocking against his to feel
his own erection through his trousers. I managed to get his trousers undone as
we reached the side of the bed, kissing down his neck, down over his chest and
nipping at his skin through the shirt. Then I sank to my knees, yanking his
slacks and undershorts down around his hips and taking his cock in my mouth.
            Some things were ingrained, Daniel had said. Always remembered
regardless of the programming. I quickly realized that this was definitely one
of them, the indulgent pleasure of having my lips wrapped around a hard and
straining shaft, of licking away every trace of bitter precum on the head of
his cock and taking him deep into my throat. Daniel's fingers tangled tight in
my hair and his hips gave a little involuntary buck deeper into my mouth as I
drew on him, taking him, my lips sliding farther down his shaft with each bob
of my head. His soft whimpers deepened to breathless, throaty groans, choked as
if trying to hold back, and a breathless warning that was surprisingly
coherent.
            "Won't last long like this."
             I looked up at him as I drew back, licking my lips deliberately.
"That's all right. I'll suck you off and then we'll fuck."
            "God." Daniel's eyes clenched shut for a moment, voice breaking as
his fingers tightened in my hair again. "Please."
            I took him again in reply, groaning around him, swallowing him down
in one go, pressing my face to his pelvis before drawing back and doing it
again. It made me forget what we were; forget that I was alone in this hell. It
made me forget everything but the very real taste of him and the burn of my own
arousal, sucking at him hungrily until he gasped and jerked tense into my mouth
and came, salty and bitter and thick and perfect.
            I was panting when I drew back, but I licked every trace of his
seed from his cock hungrily, swirling my tongue around the head until he pulled
back with a soft whimper. He sank down onto the side of the bed, and I pillowed
my head on my arms on his lap, leaning in to press a kiss to his hip. "You all
right?"
            Daniel let out a long breath and nodded, stroking his fingers
through my hair. "Yes. Thank you. I just..."
            "Been a while?" I asked lightly, smiling as I began to toy with the
buttons on his shirt.
            His fingers stilled in my hair, voice low and rough. "You don't
know the half of it."
            I knelt up to stroke a hand over his cheek. "You're welcome to come
see me any time you like."
            "Thank you," he replied, looking down at me almost wistfully. "I
shouldn't take the risk. I don't want them to discover you."
            I knelt up to stroke his shirt off his shoulders, pressing a soft
kiss to his chest. "Some things are worth discovery."
            "I might be terrible in bed, you know." Daniel's voice was wry and
amused. I helped him as he began to tug on the buttons of my shirt, pulling it
off, stroking his hands over my chest and shoulders. I thought about the
passion and desperation of his kisses, his moans of pleasure, the taste of his
cock in my mouth.
            "No," I replied with a smile. "You won't be."
            I climbed up onto the bed and urged him back onto his back under
me, helping him kick off his pants before catching his mouth again, kisses long
and slow and deep. My own jeans were easy enough to kick off, and I pressed him
back into the bed, blanketing his body with my own as we kissed. There was an
emotion to this that I hadn't felt with Jonathan, something warm and tender and
protective. Perhaps it was the knowledge that unlike anyone else in this world,
Daniel would stay Daniel. Or perhaps it was the almost painfully obvious
vulnerability with which he gave himself to me, trembling as he arched up
against me, yielding to the onslaught of my kisses with little whimpers of
pleasure, his fingers tangled in my hair, digging into my back.
            "How do you want this?" I murmured, pulling back from the sweetness
of his lips to nuzzle his jaw. "However you like, sweetheart. Whatever you
want. Want to just kiss and cuddle like this for a bit?"
            Daniel gave a little shake of his head, cheeks flushed, and I
wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or self consciousness. "I need you.
I'll do whatever you want, I just... need to feel you. Make love to me.
Please."
            "Shhh..." I silenced him with warm kisses, tasting him, claiming
his mouth with warm swipes of my tongue. Then I kissed down his throat again,
taking more time with my explorations this time despite the ache of my own
erection, lavishing attention on his skin, teasing his small nipples with my
tongue and teeth. Daniel was breathing hard again by the time I reached his
stomach, and he whimpered as I flicked my tongue against his belly button,
teasing around it before nipping lightly at his skin. Meanwhile I let my hands
stroke up and down his thighs, urging his knees to bend so that I could push
them up, leaning down to kiss and nuzzle the inside of one thigh.
            "Larry..." My name was helpless on his lips, and I urged his knees
up almost to his chest, nuzzling his half-hard cock and mouthing at his sack.
            "Shhh. Just relax. Just feel, sweetheart." I leaned down more,
drawing my tongue along the crease of his ass and over the sensitive pucker of
skin, hearing him draw a sharp gasp of breath. It didn't sound like a bad gasp,
so I continued, exploring the taste of him with slow licks. Daniel's hands
clenched on mine where they held his thighs in place, shuddering as I traced
around his hole with the tip of my tongue, pushing against him experimentally
in gentle thrusts until I was fucking him slowly with my tongue.
            "Oh my god...." Daniel's voice was an almost incredulous whimper,
which was very satisfying indeed. It was a heady feeling, to give him so much
pleasure, licking into him again and again, lost in the scent of sex and
arousal and the salty-tart taste of his skin. I was groaning against him before
I knew it, face pressed to his ass with my tongue deep inside him, pulling
little choked whimpers from his throat that were beginning to sound more and
more desperate. "Oh god, Larry, please! Enough - !"
            I drew my tongue over him one more time as I pulled back, grinning
despite myself as I leaned over him, making a little surprised noise when he
pulled me down against him, kissing me hard, his cock pressed hard against my
own. "Like that?"
            "Incredible," he breathed, nipping at my bottom lip. "Now fuck me.
Please."
            I had lube in my bedside table - it made having nothing but my own
right hand rather less dismal - and I was glad of it now, finding the bottle
and pouring some onto my cock as he watched me through blue eyes that were dark
with need.
            "Do we really need to worry about protection if we're just shells?"
I pondered, and Daniel laughed breathlessly.
            "No. Human disease does not exist here unless it is needed for an
experiment. They can control that much." Daniel pulled me down to him, voice
husky as pale thighs wrapped around my waist. "Fuck me."
            I watched him as I started to ease into the tight heat of his body,
watched his lips part to a silent cry of pleasure, his eyes falling closed to
cover the stark vulnerability behind them. I couldn't resist the urge to gather
him in my arms, pressing breathless kisses to his lips as I rocked slowly
deeper. Daniel drew a shuddering gasp against my mouth. "Don't stop."
            "Won't," I breathed, sheathing myself completely inside him,
rocking ever so slightly against him to let him adjust to the penetration. When
his heels pressed into the small of my back I started to move a little harder,
pressing kisses along his jaw, nuzzling his hair. "Feel so good, sweetheart. So
very good."
            "Thank you," he gasped, rocking up against me, his body tensing as
we came together in a shudder of pleasure, a trembling cry pulled from his
lips. "Oh god. God, Larry, like that - more - please - !"
            I rolled my hips up into him again, groaning at his answering cry,
his fingers digging into my shoulders. One of his hands moved to tangle in my
hair, pulling me back to needy kisses, nipping at my lips and tongue almost
desperately. We kissed until we were too breathless to continue, breathing
gasps of pleasure against each other's mouths, coming together faster and
harder. I buried my face in his neck as my own pleasure surged, riding the edge
of climax, lost in the way he arched tense against me, head thrown back,
completely lost to pleasure. I managed to work a hand between us to stroke him,
nipping at his neck. "Come on, sweetheart. Let go."
            Daniel's choked cry was almost a sob, and I felt his body shudder
around me in waves of pleasure as he came, fingers clenching hard at my
shoulders. I took him through it, rocking deep as I let go of self control and
let my own pleasure crest, coming deep inside him. Daniel's grasp became
tighter, if anything, his breath in shuddering, almost overwhelmed sounding
gasps, so I didn't even try to pull away, kissing his temple softly and holding
him close as my body slowly relaxed from the high of our intimacy.
            "You okay?" I murmured finally, kissing the corner of one eye and
tasting salt, nuzzling his skin and trying to soothe him with soft murmurs. His
fingers unclenched from my shoulders then, as if suddenly realizing how tightly
he'd been clutching me, rubbing over my skin.
            "I'm all right," he managed, voice low and only a little shaky, and
let out a long breath. "Thank you. Really. That was... I needed that."
            "Me too," I replied, nuzzling his jaw, not quite willing to pull
away yet. I brushed his lips with my own, slow and lingering, letting my tongue
trail against them slowly when his parted a little to mine, slowly calming.
Finally I eased away with an apologetic kiss, sighing as my cock slipped from
the warmth of his body. I left long enough to wet a facecloth in the bathroom,
cleaning off the streaks of his come on my fingers and stomach before coming
back to stroke the warm cloth over his torso, watching his eyes fall closed in
contentment at the touch. He'd re-claimed his glasses from the bedside table,
and watched me quietly, blue eyes contemplative and a little sad.
            He didn't resist when I curled up against him, pulling him into my
arms. "You've never chanced this before, have you?"
            Daniel was silent for a long moment, one hand resting on my chest,
thumb stroking my skin slowly.  "Once. There was a woman," he started softly,
"back when I'd only been involved with the experiments for a few months. Her
shell was scheduled to be murdered in an obvious crime of passion, so I knew it
wouldn't impact the experiments if I stole her for a time. When her controller
went to bed I took over." He gave a little frown, watching his fingers where
they were splayed on my chest. "I went out to a sex club and slept with two
different men before letting three of them fuck me at once. It was rough and
base and primal, and by the end of it I'd been fucked so hard and come so many
times that I could barely make it back to her apartment."
            I tried to imagine it, feeling an unexpected twitch of arousal at
his words. "What was it like?"
            "Sex as a woman?" Blue eyes flicked to mine. "You're not
disgusted?"
            I shrugged, remembering wearing the female body the first time I
tried to pick up Jonathan. "Nothing anyone does here in this city matters, it
all disappears when the experiment changes. What was the sex like?"
            "Different," he replied after a moment. "I'd recommend trying it at
some point, if you're open to it. It's not what I prefer, but it was available.
I thought about changing myself and finding a gay bar, but I wasn't sure back
then how closely they watched for unfamiliar faces. I couldn't chance it then."
            "Why did you only do it once, though?"
            He gave a soundless laugh and looked away. "I felt like I'd
violated her. I knew she wouldn't know a thing about what had happened, and it
wasn't like any of the men that I slept with would see her again, but I
just...." Daniel let out a long breath. "All that I remember is this, is
working for them, betraying my own kind. I couldn't add on another offense."
            "Then why do you do it?" I'd held my tongue on the question since
our first meeting, but he didn't look angry, merely sad.
            "A hundred reasons that all boil down to one... I have no choice,
Larry."
            I thought about the cold darkness of those hallways under the city,
the sleeping people behind the doors, so close and yet so far away. I thought
back to what he'd said before we'd made love, of thinking that I wouldn't
experience this loneliness because I could at least be among the people of the
city, could pretend at a normal life. I curled closer to press my lips to his
hair. "I believe you."
            "Thank you," he murmured, giving me a soft, sad smile, but the open
vulnerability I'd seen when we were making love was schooled away again, hidden
behind a quiet loneliness and the kind of strength I was beginning to realize
came from just making yourself go on, day by day. Doing what you had to do to
survive.
            "You're so much stronger than I am," I realized aloud, and he gave
a short, soundless laugh, shaking his head.
            "You're stronger than you realize. We wouldn't be here right now if
you weren't." Daniel's fingers were gentle on my face. "Did something happen to
make you feel so hopeless?"
            I glanced away, remembering Jonathan and his pretty green eyes. "I
guess so. That guy you borrowed the last time you came here, the one from
upstairs... we met up that night after you'd stopped... you know, borrowing his
shell. He picked me up and we slept together for two nights. I was supposed to
meet him again the next night, but he was just... gone. There was no trace of
him at all."
            "You fell in love?" Daniel asked softly, and I shook my head with a
soft laugh.
            "Love in a matter of days? I don't think so. Love doesn't happen
like that."
            Daniel's smile was wistful. "You don't believe in love at first
sight?"
            I watched him, shaking my head again slowly. "You can't know
someone well enough to love them the instant you meet them. It's impossible. I
did like Jonathan, though. It was fun. It... was easy to forget about all of
this when I was with him."
            "Don't be afraid to know people," Daniel said softly, a little sad.
"I wish I could."
            "You can come see me whenever you need. You're always welcome
here," I replied, stroking my fingertips along his jaw, and he gave a little
nod.
            "Thank you. I... perhaps. I'm not certain it will prove the safest
course of action. You could become very distracting for me, Larry. It's not
something I can afford."
            I gave a little nod, sighing despite myself. "Just don't forget
about little old me, okay?"
            "I won't." His smile was warm then, and he leaned in to place a
lingering kiss to my lips. "Thank you for this. I wish I could stay."
            I admired his form as he stood, standing still at the side for a
moment before the shell shifted back to the woman he'd been, fully clothed and
without sign of our lovemaking. She cast me a smile back over her shoulder when
she reached the door to my bedroom. "Take care of yourself. I'll talk to you
soon."


            I did see Daniel twice more over the next few weeks, but his visits
were brief, our contact limited to a soft touch of his hand when he spoke, a
gentle kiss before leaving. He kept the forms of the men that he borrowed when
he did come by, unremarkable and safe, though I rather wished he'd be himself.
I wished he would stay. The companionship had been warming, and enough to break
the prison of despair I'd fallen into when I lost Jonathan.
            On Daniel's second visit he brought a thin, shiny tablet that
proved to be some kind of futuristic computer interface. "We'll be jumping a
couple centuries in four cycles," he told me. "This apartment will be safe for
you to stay in, though it will change significantly around you, so please don't
be shocked when you wake up. Stretch out on the couch if you can. The
information here should help give you a heads up on the fashion and technology
that the city will adopt."
            At least it was something to focus on. And I had to admit that I
was a little excited at the prospect of the change, and spent ages studying the
myriad of fashions stored in the tablet Daniel had given me, the outfits of
both sexes, thinking up ways to change myself and dress myself. When the change
finally came I spent a whole twelve hours just walking the streets and watching
the rest of the city - people on jet-like vehicles that roared above the city
streets, cars like miniature space shuttles. On the ground they walked robotic
dogs and strange, fluffy fox like creatures with multiple tails and multi-
coloured fur. Some of them even hovered above the sidewalk on boards that
reminded me of Daniel’s boots.
            I'd settled into bed to sleep just after midnight when I heard
someone speaking. "Larry. Larry, I need you. Larry, answer your door. Get up.
Hurry. Larry, please."
            It took a moment to come to full wakefulness, realizing suddenly
that it was my own mouth moving, and my own voice under someone else's control
that had woken me. I stumbled out of bed towards the pounding that I could hear
coming from my front door. As I walked I changed myself into a nondescript
body, into basic black slacks and a shiny lyrca shirt with a leather trench
coat over top, opening the door.
            "Francis." The woman at the door pressed a piece of paper into my
hands. "Catch a cab. Come to this address. Hurry." Her eyes went blank at that,
but I'd already shut the door behind me, hurrying to the lift that took me to
the ground floor and hitting the button at the door to hail one of the floating
cabs.
            The Strangers version of the future still used cash, thankfully,
though they were strangely printed and closer to plastic than paper, shimmering
as I handed them across to the driver. It hadn't taken long to get to the
address on the piece of paper, and I stared up at the darkened office building,
wondering what the hell I was supposed to be doing. The front doors were
locked, and when I double checked the paper it said simply 'back'. A darkened
alley ran along the side of the building, completely shadowed from the neon
lights of the city, and as I rounded the corner of the building to the back the
flicker of a small blue light was my only warning before I found Daniel's hand
on my arm. His glasses, I realized. The real Daniel.
            "Thank you. Come with me." He sounded almost panicked, tugging on
my arm, moving fast enough that I had to half-run to keep up.
            There was a door at the back of the building, and he ran a key card
through a swipe lock that I couldn't even see in the darkness, pulling it open,
the light from inside blinding me momentarily as he pulled me through the
doorway.
            The room was bare concrete, holding only what looked like a breaker
box on the door by stairs that went up into the building. A blond haired man
was curled up on the floor against the wall, wrapped in what I quickly
recognized as Daniel's lab coat, and Daniel dropped to his knees in front of
him, the steel around his legs moving fluidly with him as he did. "Ben? I can't
stay. But I brought someone to help you. He'll take care of you until I can
come back." He cupped the man's cheek familiarly when he lifted his head to
look up at him, but all I could do was stare. This man was older than Daniel,
but his features were so similar that they could have almost been twins.
Certainly family. Brothers?
            The man - Ben, Daniel had called him - looked back at Daniel
helplessly. "I don't even know what's going on here, I don't... where's Amy? My
children...."
            "I'll explain everything when I see you again," Daniel promised,
pulling his hand from his cheek to clasp both of Ben's hands in his own. "I
promise you. Please trust me for now. I have to go now, before they come
looking for me...."
            Ben wasn't nearly as slight as Daniel, and I matched his physique
without thinking: shorter than me, stocky, well muscled. Then I slipped out of
the trench coat and unbuckled the pants, pulling the shirt off over my head. It
was easy enough to change myself into new clothes once they were off. I
crouched beside them with the clothes in a bundle, not surprised that the only
thing he wore apart from the lab coat were the same gray cotton shorts I
remembered wearing myself when Daniel had woke me up in the pod. "You must be
freezing, put these on. I'm Larry."
            "He can change his shell, so don't be frightened if he looks
different all the time," Daniel said. "He's a friend, he woke up like you did.
Stay with him. He'll keep you safe." He leaned in to press a kiss to the man's
cheek, letting out a soft sigh. "Please be safe, mein Herz."
            "I'll protect him with my life," I promised, the words slipping
from my lips before I could even think about them. But Daniel had saved my
life, hadn't he? Of course I'd do anything he asked of me.
            Daniel gave me a grateful, trembling smile, tugging his coat from
around Ben's shoulders before standing, disappearing up the staircase faster
than if he'd been running, the light on the side of his glasses blinking fast.
            Ben had pressed his fingers to the cheek where Daniel had kissed
him. "My parents only had one son," he said softly. "One son, one daughter, and
she's dead. But I... he...." he looked up at me helplessly. "My heart knows
him."
            Looking down at the man who could only be Daniel's brother, I felt
my heart twist, unexpected and painful. He was beautiful, like a slightly more
masculine version of Daniel - stronger, rugged, amazingly handsome, his eyes a
little more grey. How had I never noticed how beautiful Daniel's mouth was? I
forced myself to break from his gaze, guiding one of his hands into the arm of
the shirt, then the other, helping him pull it over his head. "You've woken up
to a hell of a world," I told him, trying to focus on the here and now. "I
won't say it's easy to accept. But we'll survive. We'll stay alive. Can you
walk?"
            "I think so," he replied, letting me help him to his feet. He
leaned heavily on me as he pulled on the pants, and I kept one arm securely
around his waist. It was then that I saw the silver plate with the empty
sockets on the back of his neck, and it really hit home.
            This man was real. Human. Not a shell at all.
            My mind reeled at the realization, but I fought to keep from
showing it, helping him on with the trench coat instead and turning up the
collar to cover the plate on his neck. "There. Better? I should get you back to
my place, we'll be safer there."
            Ben nodded, giving me a soft smile, and god if it didn't make my
heart twist again. I slipped an arm around his waist as we started for the door
and tried to tell myself that there was no way that I was going to revise my
stance on the existence of love at first sight, no matter how good looking this
man was.
***
***** Maison Jennings *****
MayMaison Jennings

            The first time I remembered a life I wasn't supposed to I didn't
even realize what was happening, too caught up in my own worries to understand
what was going on. Emma and I had been married for a year and had worked
together for almost three as a two person electronica act at the nightclubs.
Sometimes it amused me that we still called them nightclubs - it was always
night in the city, the world long since blocked from the light of the sun by a
thick layer of dust caused by a comet impact. Above the dust massive systems of
solar panels floated in orbit, transmitting back to us the energy to run the
world we lived in, a world of darkness where day and night have been all but
replaced by "first half" and "second half" designations of the day. Sometimes I
pretended it was daylight while I slept the second half away, imagining that
all I'd have to do would be to open the window shutters to feel the heat of the
legendary sun on my face.
            When it really came down to it, though, Emma was all the light I
needed. She was absolutely beautiful, her chestnut hair teased into dreads,
tied in with extra dreads in the same blue-green as her eyes. We clipped in
even more for shows - plastic tubing and coiling metal and glowing fibre-optics
until it was a veritable lion's mane. It was a brilliant, dramatic look paired
with the simple PVC outfits she wore - cat suits and tube tops with miniskirts,
flowing vinyl mermaid gowns. She often wore coils of silver and LED lit bangles
up and down her arms, but her jewellery was simple otherwise - the silver ring
I'd given her for our engagement - moonstone surrounded by diamonds - and the
moonstone necklace I'd bought for her on our wedding day. I loved how beautiful
she was, how sexy; how every man in the club wanted her but the only one who
could touch her was me.
            My own look was reversed. My short, white- blond hair was shaved on
the sides and spiked up into a simple fauxhawk, but my clothes were as
elaborate as hers were simple - black cargo pants edged in fibre-optics,
bracers on both arms with electronics built in that allowed me to quickly and
easily interface with my keyboards and soundboard programs to adjust the music.
A strap around my head held an optical display unit in place; sexy in its
silver lenses and mock-exposed circuitry. It projected the workspace for my
sound equipment directly into the retina of my right eye, letting me adjust the
mix and sound using the controls on my bracers. I could lose myself in it for
hours, in the sweet croon of Emma's voice and the pulse of the music, in the
writhe of bodies in front of us in the strobe lights.
            Tonight there was a strangeness to it, though. A sense of newness
that I couldn't quite place or understand. It was bizarre to think about,
because we played at this club quite often, we'd played together a million
times. But still something in the sway of my body to the music seemed different
or clumsy. Wrong.
            When we finally returned home I watched Emma in front of the mirror
in our room, pressing the sequence of points on her headband that disengaged
it, and she pulled it away to leave only the dreads of her natural hair and the
silky aqua strands that had been teased to spiral around her dreads. The
headband went on a pale, featureless display head, proud and beautiful with her
other, similar ones. Then she started to undress, wriggling the tight-fitting
PVC skirt down over her hips.
            In the mirror Emma caught sight of my reflection and stopped with
the skirt around her hips, turning to me with a smile playing about her lips.
"You like what you see, Maison?"
            I couldn't deny that. Emma was beautiful, perfect skin, perfect
curves, and more than anything in the world I loved to worship her with my
hands and lips and tongue. I felt my cock twitch with a rush of arousal, and I
tried to push away the fact that it seemed strange. Unnatural. It was easier to
forget about it, to focus on Emma and her beautiful curves.
            I moved towards her unhurriedly, already nude from the waist up,
sliding my hands around her hips before pulling her into a kiss. "You're
beautiful, sugar. I'm the luckiest man in the universe."
            "And I'm entirely, completely yours," she murmured, fingers
stroking up into the short spikes of my hair, still stiff with product. She
gave a little disgruntled sound against my mouth. "Let's shower together."
            That I had completely no qualms about. I gave her skirt a final tug
to stretch it off over her hips, stroking my hands over the thin band of her
thong panties, over her sides and down her bare ass. Beautiful and lush and
warm, the perfect woman. And entirely, completely mine, just as she'd said.
Emma melted against me, lips parting to the press of my tongue, hips rocking
against me, her breasts full and soft against my chest despite the hard bones
of the corset top she wore. "Help me off with this?"
            She couldn't get into this top without my help, and I'd gotten
quite adept at lacing her into it - just tight enough to accentuate her
hourglass figure without restricting her ability to sing. She turned and lifted
up her dreads, and I undid the knots in the laces with deft fingers, tugging
feet and feet of laces through silver eyelets until the garment was finally
loose enough to slide down over her hips, tugging her panties off at the same
time. I pressed my lips to the back of her neck as I ran my hands up her thighs
and over the swell of her hips, cupping her full breasts with my hands,
brushing her nipples with my fingers. She gave a soft, appreciative chuckle,
turning in my embrace to nip at my bottom lip as she kissed me, her hands
tugging my cargos undone to tug them off. Then she curled her fingers around my
cock, giving a little playful tug in the direction of the shower. "You're such
a boob man. Come on, mister."
            "When they're your boobs," I agreed, and followed her into the
shower, hitting the buttons to turn on double occupancy. It made two streams of
water cascade from the ceiling, hers a little cooler than mine. Emma pulled
back just long enough to pull a stocking cap on over her dreads, and then
stepped into the stream of water with an appreciative sigh. I reached for the
dispenser on the wall, pressing the button that drizzled a stream of her body
wash into my hand, lathering to stroke it over her skin. It was warm and spicy,
sensual with a hint of musk. "I love the way this smells on you."
            Emma laughed softly, wriggling closer to me, soap-slick breasts
soft against my chest. "You say that every time we shower together."
            It was true, I realized, and echoed her laughter, pressing a kiss
to her forehead. "It's worth saying again."
            Emma stroked her arms around my waist, grabbing more of the shower
gel and soaping my back. "I think you secretly just like to smell like me. It
smells good on you, too, you realize."
            "Does it? Not too girly?"
            "Just right," she affirmed, giving a soft sigh as my fingers soaped
up the inside of her thigh, washing away the sweat of the club before stroking
into the dark curls between her legs, soap-slick fingers delving into the folds
of her sex. "Oh god, Maison..."
            "God can't help you," I replied with a promising grin, catching her
mouth in a warm kiss. I had no intention to stop, letting the length of my
fingers slide between her lips before pulling back to tease her clit with my
fingertips. Emma whimpered, rocking up against my fingers, resting one foot on
the side of the bath to give better access. I pressed her back against the
wall, kissing down her throat and over the swell of her breasts, kissing the
wet skin hungrily as the shower rained down onto my hair and back and her
shoulders. Emma's fingers tangled in my hair, now free from gel, drawing a soft
hiss as I tugged on one hard nipple with my teeth before sucking hungrily on it
to sooth, cupping and almost kneading her other breast with my free hand. "God,
you're beautiful."
            Emma squirmed a little, hips thrusting up against my fingers to
encourage more contact, and she gave a soft sigh of satisfaction as I rocked
two fingers up inside her. "Make me so hot for you, Mai...."
            "Good," I breathed, then slipped to my knees and pressed my mouth
to her sex. I loved the taste of her, love the way she whimpered and clenched
around my fingers when I sucked at the hard nub of her clit, lavishing
attention on her with my lips and tongue. Emma buried her hands in my hair, her
hips arched away from the wall to give me better access, her sweet voice in
throaty cries as I stroked her sex with my tongue, using it to replace my
fingers, licking up as much of the musky wetness of her arousal as I could. I
knew her well, knew how to stoke her passion with my fingers and tongue, and
before long she was shuddering around me, bucking up against my mouth,
completely lost to the pleasure of climax.
            When I pulled back to look up at her with dark eyes she smiled,
cupping my face and running a thumb along my lips. "My handsome gentleman.
Let’s go to bed."
            Her dreads would need to be dried properly - we had a machine that
did it for us - but we couldn't wait for that, lost in a fever of kisses as we
slipped into the bedroom, still wet and dripping from the shower. When I buried
myself inside her I was briefly overwhelmed by how good she felt, how intense
the pleasure was, her body hot and wet around me. Emma's fingernails dug into
my back as I rocked up into her, gasping pleasure with each thrust, whimpering
encouragements. "Oh god, Mai - so good. So good, my beautiful Mai."
            It was familiar to me, being pressed close to her with her legs
wrapped around me, driving into her again and again. But it was almost strange
how I could feel her come to climax, feel her heat ripple and clench around me,
and when I came it was like a maelstrom, completely overwhelming me and leaving
me feeling drained and exhausted afterward.
            Emma kissed my forehead with a soft giggle, untangling herself from
my body and tucking the covers around me. "All worn out, my handsome boy? Get
some rest. I'll be back as soon as my hair is dry."
            It was an easy request to follow, and I passed out within moments,
barely waking when she crawled back into bed and curled around me.

            In dreams, I feel normal. Emma and I walk down the street at night
in a crowded shopping district, hand in hand. When I look over to her, she
smiles, just as beautiful as ever. She's dressed almost like a porcelain doll,
in a knee length, lace-trimmed dress with full ruffled skirts and net
petticoats underneath, her legs covered by frilly black knee-high lace socks,
black Mary Janes on her feet. They're trimmed with lengths of silver chain that
dangle in loops from the toe to the buckle, adorned with tiny silver charms -
crosses and flowers, and her purse and the wide belt on her dress is the same -
set with delicate sparkling silver in loops with tiny charms and crystals
shining over her dress and the leather of her purse. Emma's hair is straight
and sleek, gently curling at the ends, adorned with a large lace bow on top of
her head with a black rose in the middle. Tiny black feathered wings attach to
the back of her dress, and I look down at our joined hands to see her nails
intricately painted black to match, silver chain and crystals and charms glued
to their long, impeccably manicured surface.
            I realize suddenly that my hands are the same as hers, my nails in
pearly white with gold chain and charms. We stop in front of a shop window, and
I stare at our reflection. I could be Emma's twin, or the angel to her demon.
We're the same height and share the same curves, but mine are dressed in white
instead of black, and my blonde hair is curled into shoulder length ringlets.
            "This was a good idea," Emma says, pressing close to me and
nuzzling my hair. "We look so beautiful together, May."
            I turn to her and smile, pressing my lips to hers, and even our
kiss feels better - soft and warm and lush, pink glossed lips sliding against
each other.
            I dream of returning home with her to a loft apartment decorated
like a tea house, all old fashioned finery and lace, just like us. We giggle
and help each other undress beside a canopy bed with chiffon curtains, teasing
each other with gentle touch and soft kisses. Her hands smooth over the curve
of my hips and my thin waist, cupping the swell of my breasts through a white
lace bra, teasing my nipples. It makes me ache to be with her, and when I pull
her into bed our bodies fit together with perfect softness.
            I make love to her with a toy, a pearly white silicone vibrator
that's designed to please us both. The small end I ease up inside myself,
groaning at the exquisite pleasure of being filled; the toy shaped so that I
can hold onto it with my thighs so the large end curves out beyond my body like
a phallus. When I rock into her she sighs and arches up to me, fingers tangling
in my curls as her legs wrap around my waist, and the pleasure I find is in the
vibration of the toy, the way it rubs against my clit every time I rock forward
and teases up inside me when I pull back. The pleasure is intoxicating and
perfect, and I press kisses to her throat and the tops of her beautiful breasts
as we move together. "My sweet girl. My beautiful Anna."
            "Love you so much," she whispers, and my world is lost to warmth
and pleasure and the love of this woman who means more to me than life itself.

            The night was quiet around us when I awoke, Emma breathing deeply
in my arms. Curling closer to her sleeping form, I tried to ignore the hardness
of my body, how awkward I felt. I loved Emma more than anything in the world -
that I had no doubt of. But for the first time in my life I didn't feel like
me.

***
***** Ben Carson *****
Ben Carson

            I'd woken up in a nightmare.
            I'd expected a nightmare, truthfully, just a completely different
kind. For weeks I'd been the night watchman at a dilapidated department store
that had been ravaged by fire, the only thing inside remaining untouched being
walls upon walls of mirrors. I still wasn't sure if it had been my own
hallucinations or actual ghosts that had haunted me, but whatever they'd been,
they'd killed my baby sister. My Angie. They'd threatened to kill my family. So
I'd given in to their threats, kidnapped a little old woman from a nunnery just
because the demons asked for her, dragged her back to the place where she'd
been imprisoned and tortured as a child.
            My memories were a blur after that, the kind of blur made by panic
and adrenaline and fighting for one's life. Everything was on fire, and I was
fairly certain I'd killed the demon creature that Anna Esseker had become, but
then everything crumbled around me, and all I knew was pain and darkness....
            Then I awoke with my head resting on the cool, hard surface of a
desk.
            Sleepy and disoriented, I sat up slowly, staring around me. The
desk in front of me held a computer, or was a computer.... a large glass
monitor set into the desk's shining white surface that appeared to be some kind
of touch screen interface, three monitors sitting on the desk itself with
information scrolling by, photos....
            "Hey Jack, you done with those reports?"
            I heard the voice behind me, but didn't pay attention until a heavy
hand fell on my shoulder. "Jack? You awake, buddy?"
            I whirled and stared up at the man who stood behind me, soulful
dark hair and dark eyes, his face open and friendly. I'd never seen him before
in my life. "My name's not Jack," I said without thinking. He must have the
wrong person. How had I gotten here?"
            The man immediately looked worried. "Are you feeling all right?"
            I stood, shaking my head. Where the hell was I? I had to get home,
I had to make sure Amy and the kids were all right. "I'm sorry, I need to go."
            He caught hold of my shoulder, tight grip betraying the worry he
hid in his expression. "Okay, sure. We can go wherever you want. Where do you
need to go, Jack?"
            I twisted out of his grasp. "Stop calling me that. I don't know who
the hell you think I am, but I've never seen you before in my life!" As we
spoke I became of others around us, standing slowly from desks, watching us
warily. I didn't care. "My name is Ben Carson, I'm a city police detective. I
need to get home to my family. I need to make sure they're all right."
            "All right." The dark haired man was still carefully reasonable.
"You want me to give you a ride? Where should we go?"
            "Home," I said, trying to picture our house the last time I'd seen
it. Amy and I had painted over all the mirrors to hide from the demons, covered
the windows with newsprint. Every surface that might cause a reflection.
            "You'll have to give me an address, Ja - Ben. I haven't been there
before."
            An address. What the hell was my address? I pulled the wallet out
of the back pocket of my suit - how the hell was I wearing a suit? - and opened
it to pull out my ID card. Instead of the drivers license I expected it was a
strange, clear plastic, a hologram of a face where the picture should be. Jack
Harris. 154 B Ave. It wasn't even my face. I shook my head. "This isn't me,
look - even the picture's different. This isn't - what the hell is going on
here?"
            "It's you," the man said softly, pointing to the shining surface of
the desk. "Just look. It's you, Jack."
            I leaned over to stare down at my reflection, recoiling at the
unfamiliar face that looked back. Dark eyes instead of blue, dark hair buzzed
short, high cheekbones - "That isn't me - !" I was clutching the man's sleeve
now, panic bubbling over in a rush of what I knew to be true. "That isn't me,
I'm not - that's not my face! My name is Ben Carson, I - I'm blond, I have a
wife, a family, I'm a police officer - "
            "Let's go downstairs," the dark haired man said softly, a little
sorrowfully. I turned to find two men in grey uniforms behind me, silent and
formidable. "We'll go see Doctor Haffenbaker, okay? We'll sort this all out."
            What could I do? I fell into step between them, letting them escort
me out of the office area through a pair of glass doors that slid open for us
on approach, into a clear lift that started to descend. "I have to get back to
my family," I tried again, not being able to push away the panic. "They were in
danger. Please let me go see them. I have two little children - Daisy is seven
and Michael is five. I have to make sure they're all right. Please."
            The worried line between the man's eyebrows deepened, and he shook
his head. "It's all right," he said softly, "We'll get this figured out. I
promise you."
            I wasn't paying attention to the floors of the building as we
passed them in the lift, not until we stopped on what seemed to be the bottom
floor. When we stepped out of the lift we were immediately surrounded by the
strangest battalion of men - men in long dark leather coats with pale skin and
no hair, all wearing the same wide brimmed hat.
            "We'll take it from here," The one in front said, and lifted a hand
to my face. "Sleep."


            Someone was shaking my arm, and it felt like I'd hardly been asleep
for a moment. The voice was panicked, but somehow familiar. "Wake up. Oh god
please, Ben, wake up."
            Well, at least it was my real name. I managed to open my eyes,
blinking to try and adjust to the mix of light and darkness, trying to focus on
the man that leaned over me. The panicked voice was somehow familiar....
            The world around me sharpened, and I yanked away from him with a
cry of alarm, sitting up and scooting as far away from the man as I could. I
was near naked, I realized, sitting in a strange kind of oval bed with a lid
that was brightly illuminated in a dark room. This was the face I'd expected to
see when I looked down at my reflection. I reached up to touch my own face with
my fingers, trying to determine if it was normal again. My hair was longer, at
least....
            "We look the same," the man said softly, not trying to move closer
to me, though I could see the anguish in his eyes. Eye. One had been replaced
by some kind of lens, and I assumed it tied in to the strange device that was
attached to his glasses, all steel and circuitry and little blue indicator
lights. "My name is Daniel. We were brothers, once. You won't remember. I
hardly remember. I won't let them hurt you, Ben. But you have to trust me. You
have to come with me, now, before they come for you. Please."
            He held a hand out to me, and despite my panic at this nightmare of
a world I couldn't stop myself from reaching out to take it. Something deeper
than the fear told me to trust this man, a warm kind of security. Love. Had we
really been brothers?
            My body felt weak and shaky as I managed to stand, and Daniel
wrapped an arm around my waist to help support me, though he seemed hardly
stronger than I. "Press close to me," he told me, giving a little tug in
encouragement. "Stand on my feet. My boots can carry us both."
            I did so, wondering at the strange bands of steel that came up from
the boots to circle his legs. Some kind of transportation system? When we
lifted off the ground with a slight lurch to hover above it I realized that the
bands around his legs must be to stabilize him in flight. But as I glanced over
his shoulder I noticed a third figure in the room - this one wore the same gray
shorts as I, but he was almost completely featureless, like a human shaped mass
of plastic. As we passed I noticed it begin to change, to slowly take on the
likeness of the strange face that I'd seen in the glass when I'd tried to look
at my own reflection. "What the fuck is that?!"
            "A shell," Daniel replied, taking me out of the door and down a
hallway that was only a little brighter than the room I'd been in, all winding
black metal and glass hidden blue lights. We moved faster, up an empty shaft
and down another hall. "It's a replica of a human body with no life or soul of
its own. They are created by the beings that hold us captive here. It will take
your place when they come to kill you."
            "Kill me?"
            "You remembered. You are dangerous to them," Daniel explained
plainly, taking me through another door and helping me step down and lean up
against the wall. The room was nearly identical to the one that we'd left,
except the translucent lid of the oval shaped bed was closed, and I could just
see the figure of another person inside. "Stay here until I come for you."
Daniel had begun to look a little panicked, and I noticed that the light on the
side of his visor was beginning to blink faster. "Stay quiet, and don't touch
the pod. I promise I will come for you as soon as I can. I will take care of
things. I promise."
            "All right," I found myself agreeing. What other choice did I have?
Daniel's fingers brushed my cheek almost affectionately, and then he was gone.
            I sunk down to my knees on the floor, my body cold and trembling,
and closed my eyes for some time, just trying make sense of it all. How had I
seen that other face in the mirror? Why were people calling me by another name?
It all made my head spin, and for a time I just tried not to think about
anything at all.
            Time stretched out, and after a while I couldn't even tell how long
it had been. Minutes, hours? Everything around me was silent apart from a low
hum that emanated from the oval shaped bed. It was almost like a coffin, I
reflected, staring through the frosted glass at a person who didn't even seem
alive. I could make out the person's features - his features - just a little:
pale eyebrows and a warm, generous mouth, thick ginger hair. There was
something vaguely familiar about the man, but I couldn't place it. Maybe just
one of those faces.
            The cold made me tired, and I curled closer into myself, wrapping
my arms around my knees and pillowing my head on them. The metal flooring
underneath me and at my back had grown warm from my body heat, but everything
was so cold, and I was so exhausted. Perhaps I slept. It was easier to think
about nothing than to try and figure out any of this, or to wonder if the man
who had called himself my brother was ever coming back to me.
            I didn't even notice the door open, I wasn't aware of anything
until Daniel's hands were on my arms, his voice low and urgent. "Ben? Oh god,
you're freezing. Here...."
            Something warm and smooth was wrapped around my back and arms, and
it took a moment for me to register that it was the white lab coat he'd been
wearing. He looked even more concerned when I managed to meet his gaze, one
hand touching my forehead, then both cupping my cheeks, forcing me to hold his
gaze. "Ben. I need you to focus. We need to leave quickly. I need to get you
someplace safe before they realize that I'm gone. Please stand up. Please...."
            Later I'd reflect on how pale he seemed as he took me through the
corridors again, up and up and up. His arms around my waist were trembling a
little as if from exhaustion, but he didn't mention why. Instead he spoke, his
lips by my ear, voice low and soft, of exactly what the nightmare was that I'd
woken up to. A world filled with marionettes controlled by humans sleeping in
suspended animation. He told me of the part he was forced to play, creating the
new identities for each person to fit the experiments set up by the pale men in
the black coats. The Strangers. That I had been part of the leverage to force
him to do these deeds, that he'd spent long months quietly altering records
with each new identity that I was given, disguising which person controlled
which shell so that tracing the path from my shell to me would be, he hoped,
impossible. He explained that somehow the personality I was meant to have - the
memories of Jack Harris - hadn't taken. That I'd remembered the wrong things
before. That the consequence of remembering too many times was to be removed
from the experiments permanently.
            "I couldn't chance it," he murmured, shivering a little more, his
arms tightening around me. "You are the only part of me that's left. The only
memory they left me with was your face."
            "I wish I could remember you," I whispered, and meant it. It felt
good, to be with Daniel. Secure.
            "It doesn't matter," he replied, and his lips touched to my hair
briefly. "Just as long as you are safe."
            I don't remember at what point the metal around us changed to
concrete, to a world I was more familiar with. We finally stopped in a small
room at the bottom of a set of stairs, and Daniel helped me curl up against the
wall, pulling his coat around me more securely. "I called a friend to help us.
The only person in the city who knows the truth besides you and I. I must go
meet him. I will return in a moment."
            I took in Daniel's words when he returned with the man, only half
hearing them but storing them for later. Then his lips were pressed to my
cheek, and he was gone.
            My Heart, he'd called me, and I felt a wave of warmth wash over me.
If nothing else, I was certain of one thing. Something inside me remembered him
in love, even if my mind could not.
            The man who'd joined us - Larry, Daniel had called him - helped me
dress in clothes that had somehow appeared and surprisingly fit me like a
glove. The world I saw around me as he took me back to his apartment was even
more fantastical than it had been in the office I'd woken up in, like something
out of a science fiction novel. We rode in a cab that rose up to hover twenty
feet above the ground, swooping up to go over other cars at intersections, and
when it finally reached our destination Larry paid with a strange, plastic cash
that reminded me of the driver's license I'd looked at with the face that
wasn't mine. He swiped a key card by the door censor for the building we had
arrived at, taking me up the lift and to a small but comfortable looking
apartment. It was fairly utilitarian in design, but the furniture had been
covered with plush throws in shades of navy blue and forest green, and along
one wall an intricate silk kimono was pinned, light blue at the collar fading
to dark blue at the bottoms, covered with an embroidered landscape of birds and
sakura trees. "That's gorgeous."
            "Thank you." I turned towards Larry at his reply, finding that he'd
changed his appearance. He was taller now, his build more wiry, his red hair
parted to one side and curling a little around his ears. He smiled
apologetically with a generous mouth, and somehow his appearance was strangely
familiar. "I'm afraid I'm fairly limited in terms of what I can do on my own
with the décor. Technically this unit is supposed to be vacant, so I can't be
too obvious with bringing in new furniture, and I can only create things that
could be reasonably considered clothing items when I change. Would you like
something more comfortable to wear, by the way?"
            I tried to think about that. "Maybe a sweater?"
            "Sure." Within seconds I was staring at a mirror image of myself,
dressed down in a very comfortable looking pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a warm
gray hoodie that zipped up the front. He stripped down to his boxers, tossing
the clothes over a chair, and in moments was back to being himself, dressed as
he had been before in dark jeans and a button down shirt. "Sorry, that was
probably a little creepy. It's just easier that way."
            "I - thanks. It's all right. Just a lot to get used to," I replied.
I'd taken the leather trench coat off at the door, and I pulled on the hoodie
now, feeling much more at ease in the thick, baggy garment. I folded the jeans
and t-shirt and left them on the end of the couch. Larry seemed almost nervous
as he watched me, so I gave him a smile. "Thank you for letting me stay here.
Don't go to any pains for my sake."
            "It's no trouble," he replied with a little shake of his head. "Are
you hungry at all? Coffee? There are replicators here for food, it's pretty
handy."
            I hadn't really thought about food. "Truthfully I'm just exhausted.
Do you mind if I steal your couch?"
            "I do mind," he replied with a little frown, catching my arm and
tugging me in the direction of one of the doors that lead from the room. "I've
already slept, you get the bed. Sleep as long as you need. The bathroom's there
if you need it," he told me, nodding toward the other door.
            "I can't take your bed - "
            "You can and you will. You've been through a lot." He stopped at
the side of the bed, turning back to give me a smile that was somehow wistful.
"Get some rest. I'll be here if you need me."
            "Thank you," I said again, a little overwhelmed by the kindness. I
watched as he left the room, then crawled into bed fully clothed, curling up in
the blankets and finally, finally feeling warm as I drifted off to sleep.


            I kicked off my clothes as I slept, layer by layer when I became
too hot. When I woke up for good it was still dark, but I pulled on the robe
that had been draped over a chair by the door for me, stumbling sleepily out of
the bedroom with thoughts of taking a leak, having a shower and coffee, and not
necessarily in that order. At the bedroom door I froze in shock, heart pounding
fast, staring at the strange woman who sat in the armchair reading a viewing
tablet. She glanced up at me and gave me a smile. "Morning, Ben."
            I stared at her, uncomprehending. "I'm sorry... who are you?"
            For a moment she looked a little taken aback, then laughed.
"Christ, I'm sorry. Ben, it's me. Larry. This is what I do, sorry for not
warning you. It's safer if I don't carry the same look for too long."
            He was a rather good looking woman, truth told, but reminded me too
much of my estranged wife. She had a bit of a Latino look to her, dusky skin
and long dark hair in micro braids hanging down her back. She wore a plain
white linen jumpsuit with a coiled metal belt at the waist and intricate metal
bracelets. "You run around as a woman?"
            She - he - shrugged and smiled. "Well I certainly don't look like
me this way. I'm still getting used to the fashion this time around and I
haven't worn this body before, what do you think?"
            I opened my mouth, then closed it again, trying very hard to think
up a tactful reply. "Um. Well, I suppose you do make a very attractive woman,
it's just... truthfully, this is just a little bit weird."
            Larry didn't seem fazed by the reply. "It took me a bit of getting
used to. You should try walking in heels." He chuckled softly, setting aside
the viewing tablet and stretching languidly before getting to his feet, lithe
and graceful. "You want breakfast?"
            "Um. Yeah, but... I'll shower first," I replied, still trying to
get my mind used to the idea that the man I'd met last night and this woman
were one and the same.
            He nodded. She. "Sounds good. I'll leave a couple things in your
closet, wear whatever you like. We can wear comfortable things around the
apartment, but if we go out it has to be this kind of..." he made a random
gesture to the jumpsuit. "Future fashion. Then you can take a look through what
the replicator makes or we can go out to eat, whatever you like. I suppose
you'll have a lot of questions about everything that's going on here?"
            "Some," I admitted with a little rueful smile. "Daniel told me some
as well, but we didn't have much time.... Will I see him again?"
            "He comes by when he can," Larry replied, seeming a little wistful
again. "It isn't the safest thing for him. But I'm sure he'll come to see you."
            I nodded and headed into the shower. It was all electronic, but I
managed to figure it out after a few false starts and one uncomfortable drench
of cold water. It felt good to feel the water stream over my body, almost
invigorating, and I stayed in for longer than I should have just enjoying the
sensation. Feeling alive.
            When I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in the robe I stopped
short. Now there were two people sitting on the apartment couch that I didn't
recognize - a cute young woman with short black curly hair that was a bit girl-
next-door in looks, and a man that looked barely out of his teens with light
brown hair that fell in curls down to his jaw. He smiled widely when he saw me.
"Ben."
            I glanced between the two of them for a moment before focusing on
the woman. ".... Larry?" I tried a little weakly, and she laughed, standing.
            "Yes. I'm sorry. Here, how about I..." she paused for a moment,
thinking, then stretched out her left hand. A silver bracelet snaked around her
wrist, set with square turquoise stones which was attractive without being so
delicate that it would seem out of place on a man. A large cocktail ring with
the same stone curled around her index finger. "I'll keep these on for you
regardless of what I'm wearing. Will that help?"
            "Thanks," I replied, giving an embarrassed grin. I glanced to the
man. "Have we met?"
            "Daniel," he replied with a soft smile. "I'm sorry I cannot come
here in person. Ben. It would draw too much attention to the two of you. But I
can borrow the shells of others during times that they won't notice, like when
they are asleep. In an emergency I can speak through Larry as well. How are you
feeling?"
            "Better than last night," I admitted, tightening the tie on my robe
and sitting down in the chair across from the sofa.
            "Try and eat something," Daniel urged with a soft smile. "Your body
has been in cryogenic sleep for some time and is not accustomed to being awake.
Take it easy for now." He looked up at Larry. "Perhaps some tea and toast with
apple preserves?
            "Coming right up," Larry replied with a bright smile, and
disappeared into the kitchenette.
            "There's something I don't understand." I turned back to Daniel,
watching him, finding the new body strange. Still, there were certain
mannerisms that were familiar, and his eyes were the same shade of blue. "You
said that the city is filled with Shells, and that the people sleeping in those
beds, those pods, they control the shells with their minds, right?"
            Daniel nodded, so I continued. "When you woke me up, you said that
shell was going to take my place. Who was controlling it? Wouldn't the
strangers have noticed?"
            "They would," Daniel said slowly, glancing down. "But I have had
enough practice with the machines that I can take almost full control of a
shell while still remaining aware of my physical body. It isn't something I can
do for an extended period of time... when you see me like this it is when the
Strangers have given me leave to sleep, so only a tiny part of me is aware of
my real self. Then... I was able to split my focus to control the shell long
enough for them to drag me out of the pod and kill me." His eyes met mine,
almost shy. "I didn't want you to have to experience that."
            The realization was heady, and I reached out to cover his hand on
the arm of the chair with his own. "Did it hurt?"
            Daniel curled his fingers around mine, then gave a little shake of
his head. "No more than other things I have experienced. Don't worry, Ben." He
looked up as Larry came back into the room with something that resembled a tea
service done in stainless steel, a stack of hot buttered toast and a bowl of
cooked apples with cinnamon.
            I accepted a cup of tea from Daniel gratefully, sipping at the hot
liquid slowly. I suddenly realized how hungry I was, my stomach grumbling at
the taste of the tea. It was hard to listen to Daniel's instructions to take it
slowly. "You said that you create everyone's identities. What do you mean?" 
            Daniel glanced away, hands wrapped around his cup of tea. "We
control the shells through a cerebral net they've implanted in our brains. I'm
afraid I cannot tell you how they did it. But that is why - " he tapped the
back of his neck. "That's how you were connected to your shell."
            I'd felt the strange metal plate when I'd showered, and I nodded.
"But how do we not remember that? Wouldn't people realize at some point that
they're not... real?"
            "The shells are as real as our human bodies," Daniel replied
calmly. "Every system of the body perfectly replicated through the Stranger's
powers of creation. They call it Tuning. They have machines that can replicate
the ability on a small scale, notably the ability to change the shells. This is
what I am able to use to borrow this shell that you see me in now. Larry's mind
has somehow evolved to be able to connect to the machines enough to change his
own appearance. For everyone else in the city, well... the Stranger set forth
their expectations for their experiments, and I program people to match.
Identities are changed, appearance, gender, even whole time periods like the
switch you experienced between your life as Ben and now. The new memories that
are programmed completely erase the old... and in most cases it works."
            "Programmed." I shook my head slowly. "I don't understand. How
could an entire human memory - an entire personality - be programmed? How could
something like that be captured with a computer?"
            "I had wondered about that as well," Larry mused, taking a piece of
buttered toast and munching on it.
            Daniel gave a nod. "You are correct. It would in ordinary
circumstances be impossible. Some things are ingrained regardless of the
programming, like... how to hold a cup of tea. How to ride a bicycle."
            "How to suck cock," Larry noted around a mouthful of toast, and I
couldn't help but chuckle at that.
            "So things you learn as a child...." I paused and glanced to Larry.
"Well."
            Daniel chuckled softly as well then, flushing a little. "Yes, but
also things involving muscle memory. Like playing the piano. And also language.
For instance, can you understand me, Ben?"
            "Of course I can," I replied, the words out of my mouth without
thinking. Larry looked a little taken aback, and I realized that what Daniel
had spoken hadn't been English - and that I'd automatically replied in kind.
"What the hell?"
            Daniel was beaming. "We can speak German. I can only assume one or
both of our parents was a native speaker. It comes quite naturally, doesn't
it?"
            I couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "But it doesn't
explain how I can remember the birth of my son five years ago. How long was I
Ben Carson?"
            "Only a few months," Daniel replied. "You didn't kill a police
officer, Ben. It was all fabricated to see how you and your family would react.
When the Strangers brought us here they extracted all of our memories. I simply
mix the information together to form a believable history, alter the settings
and faces in the memory. The Strangers cannot understand the human mind, they
needed an expert, an artist. Apparently I fit their requirements. So here we
are."
            I nodded. It made a strange sort of sense. Perhaps I was just
looking for an explanation to all of this madness, any explanation that could
fit. "Are my children safe?"
            Daniel nodded. "Your actions did save them, even though the death
of a shell has no impact on its controller. The woman who was your sister lives
another life, safely. And your wife. They are no longer the people you knew,
though. They have been re-imprinted. I am sorry, Ben.”
            "Estranged wife," I corrected distractedly, mind going back through
my memories. Truthfully, it was a bit of a blur. I could remember specific
events - the shooting, of course. The birth of my children, my marriage to Amy.
But so much of the rest was missing. "So everything I remember... Ben Carson is
just a lie."
            "You are not a lie," Daniel replied softly, setting down his teacup
and reaching over to touch my arm. "Everything you feel - your love, your fear,
your bravery - it's all real. The essence of you. The only things that changes
in the experiments are the circumstances you are faced with."
            It was a little reassuring, but only a little. "I don't suppose
there's any way to get the hell out of here?"
            Daniel looked down and shook his head. "It is, I am afraid, quite
impossible. I have tried. The results were...." he stopped, and I could see a
shudder run through him, his fingers tightening on my arm. He seemed to catch
himself, pulling his hand back and sitting up straighter on the couch. "In any
case, we are far beyond the help of the rest of the human race, if they even
exist. It is impossible to leave the city. Please, don't try. I will keep you
safe here. I will make sure you always have a safe place to stay through all of
the changes. And perhaps, if the two of you are willing to help me, I will try
to save others who face death at their hands?"
            "Of course," I replied without hesitation, and Larry nodded.
            Looking more than a little relieved, Daniel stood. "Thank you. Both
of you. I must return, but I will try to come back to you in a few cycles to
check up on you and talk more if you need. Larry, can you take care of things
here...?"
            "Sure thing. I've already half filled his closet with new clothes."
He - she - smiled a little proudly, then stood as well. He leaned in to press
his lips to Daniel's temple, and I wondered about the familiarity. "I'll see
you soon."
            "Of course," Daniel replied with a smile, taking his hand and
giving it a squeeze. Then he leaned in to press a kiss to my cheek. "Take care
of yourself, mein Herz."
            "Be safe, liebling," I replied, the endearment falling from my lips
before I'd hardly thought about it. Daniel smiled widely, flushing, then pulled
away and left.
            I watched him leave and let out a soft sigh, rather wishing I could
see him as him. His face had been a comfort. Familiar. I glanced over to where
Larry was watching me quietly. "So what do we do now?"
            He gave a smile that seemed a little strained. "Well... for now, we
just go on living."


            I slept for the majority of the next three days, and when I was
awake, Larry was there - at least in whatever body he'd chosen at the moment -
with big bowls of chicken soup and hot buttered toast and tea. He kept the body
of the little pixie girl with the short curly hair for a bit, then moved on to
an almost gypsy-like girl whose dark curls were like a huge lion's mane. When I
finally felt rested enough to be up and about I went into the living room to
find him a leggy blonde, short hair almost white, the bangs swept over one eye
with the rest trimmed short. Her outfit was silver lamé - a short mini skirt
with a black vinyl belt, thigh high silver boots and a silver halter top. He -
she - looked up at me and grinned with lips that had been painted blue, pulling
off the silver visor-like sunglasses she'd pushed up into her hair and tossing
them to me. "Get dressed. Let’s go out before the cabin fever kills me."
            I glanced down at the sunglasses. "You don't think I'll be too
recognizable?"
            "Not when I'm done with you," he replied with a grin. Three silver
rings decorated his bottom lip, another in one eyebrow, and too many to count
in various sizes from his ears. Reminded me a little of the Goth girls I went
to high school with.
            "I can't change back when I'm done," I started cautiously, but
Larry just laughed, standing and balancing perfectly in what looked like six
inch heels.
            "Don't worry, handsome. I'll be gentle to you. Go pick something
out of the closet and come back."
            It was a bit difficult to get settled into the idea of the
futuristic flash that seemed to be in fashion from what was hanging in my
closet. I settled finally on a matte black dress jacket with a mandarin collar,
the traditional frogs replaced by silver striping that only reminded me a
little of retro-reflective safety strips. There were silver plates on the arms
that reminded me of bracers, and when I went to adjust them they tightened
automatically to fit my forearms perfectly. The pants that went with the top
were just as bright and silver as the reflective strips, but no brighter than
what Larry was wearing, I rationalized. I stuffed my feet into the least clunky
pair of black ankle boots in the closet and slipped the sunglasses on,
surprised to find that they despite the appearance they didn't shade the room
at all. I suppose it was the only kind of sunglasses needed in a city that was
always dark.
            Larry looked me up and down slowly as I reappeared, lips turning up
into a very approving smile. "Nice. Very nice." I stayed patient as he spiked
my hair up with some kind of product that made it almost metallic silver. Then
she slipped into a short silver coat with a black fur collar, and out we went.
            We walked this time, and I found I could better take in the
strangeness and beauty of the city around me. It seemed fashionable to walk up
and down the night time streets, which were brightly lit with overhead
streetlights and banks of light alongside buildings. People had weird pets on
leashes - one woman passed us with something that looked like miniature zebra,
with her friend walking a snow leopard. Further down the road a young boy was
chasing something that looked like a lavender coloured fox with nine tails. I
leaned a little closer to Larry. "How the hell do the animals figure in?"
            "I wondered the same thing," he replied, grinning as the fox and
boy raced by us, the fox barking excitedly. "Daniel says they can't make
animals either - not living ones, anyway. I try not to think too much about it.
These are all highly advanced robotics, apparently. I thought about getting a
dragon to sit on my shoulder, but they're a bit pricey, and I'm not sure I
could pay for one with that much cash without seeming suspicious.
            I pondered that as we went into a restaurant that was more like a
lounge, snagging a booth along the wall. The walls themselves changed
appearance slowly, from a brushed metal to dark concrete to a colourful kind of
fluid, like oil on dark water. Larry in her boots and mini skirt turned more
than a few heads, and it made me feel strangely angry, though I pushed it away.
Men would have to be blind not to stare at an ass that was that nice and that
shiny.
            "I suppose it would be a bit difficult to get a credit card if you
technically don't exist," I mused, leafing through the drink menu. They seemed
to be mostly martinis and cocktails, and none of the titles were any more
recognizable than I remembered martinis and cocktails to be from my last life
either.
            "That's the trouble," Larry agreed with a wry smile. "I could
probably steal someone else's just by mimicking them, but I worry it would draw
undue attention to us. It's just as easy to live like this, anyway."
            I nodded, still staring at the drinks. "Fuck, isn't there anything
in here that's anything like beer?"
            Larry laughed, turning to the last page, on which there were a list
of "Vintage-Style Grain Fermented Brews". "Hammerhead Red is pretty tasty. Same
with the Rig Pig."
            "Thanks, I'll take your recommendation," I said, and ordered one of
each when the waiter came to take our drink orders. They were both very good
when they arrived, and thankfully as real as I remembered beer to be, and Larry
laughed when I toasted his own glass. "To beer, thank god."
            "To beer and company that appreciates it properly," he agreed,
drinking deep.
            The food, thankfully, wasn't all that different from what I was
used to, and the medium-rare stake and baked potato I ordered were perfectly
done. "Do you think Daniel will really bring more people to us?"
            Larry pondered the idea, twirling seafood pasta Alfredo around his
fork. "I don't doubt he'll try, though I'm not sure how often people wake up.
He seems to want to get people out, he really does... maybe because it's the
only way he can really go against them? But they frighten the hell out of him,
Ben. I think I'd probably be scared as hell of any beings that decided to
arbitrarily replace one of my eyes with computer parts, and who knows what else
they've done."
             I shivered at the thought and nodded. "I wish I could see him," I
admitted, frowning a little into my beer. "The real him, I mean. I wish I could
remember him. I feel like I should, it's like... something that just teases the
edges of my memory. It's infuriating.”
            "Maybe in time we'll remember more," Larry suggested softly,
watching me. "You've been stronger than the programming at least three times
already, right?"
            The idea was a little cheering, and I nodded, taking another bite
of stake and revelling in the taste. "Going to need a bigger apartment if
anyone else joins us."
            Larry chuckled, spearing a scallop with his fork and lifting it to
lips that still appeared perfectly blue to match the electric blue of his eye
makeup. "I'm sure Daniel will figure things out for us."
            For about a week we continued this pattern, going out to eat,
trying out the restaurants in the area around the apartment buildings, catching
movies, or just sipping coffee and talking as we watched people go by.
Sometimes we stayed in with rented movies, things that were loaded onto a
little device that put me in mind of a portable USB drive and deleted
themselves after forty-eight hours. It was a fascinating system, and I stayed
far away from it - electronics didn't tend to like me too much. Thankfully
Larry seemed to fit into this strange world like a fish in water, sorting
everything out regardless of what body he was wearing.
            I'd taken a liking to tea and toast for breakfast, lounging on the
easy chair in my robe and re-watching the movie that we'd brought home that
night, a weird action flick that seemed to be some bizarre re-telling of The
Three Musketeers, but in space. Larry was blonde again, this time with honey
coloured hair that fell sleek and silken over her shoulders and a thick fringe
that made her face seem more heart-shaped. She was wearing a dark blue silk
robe that hugged her curves in very nice ways, and I tried not to look at her
for modesty's sake. It had been far too long since I'd seen any kind of action
with the opposite sex, at least as far as I could remember. In the remains of
my memory, Amy and I had been estranged since the shooting, but the marriage
was passionless for a long time before that. I'd pondered making a play for
him, but it seemed like a bad idea for more reasons than I could count. He was
my only company in this bizarre world, and I was pretty dependent on him if I
wanted to do anything with myself beyond hide in this apartment. If he was
insulted or uncomfortable by my proposal it would make things pretty awkward.
Then there was the constantly changing nature of his appearance... he was
beautiful no matter what form he chose, but what if he thought I was only after
his current body - or current gender - and not him at all?
            "Do you want to go clubbing?" Larry asked suddenly, looking up from
his viewing tablet.
            The words jarred me from my thoughts, and I stared at him.
"Clubbing?"
            "Yeah. There's apparently a bunch of really hip ones in the area.
It's seems like since there's an eternal night, there's also an eternal club
scene or something. He chuckled. "Let's go, there's live music at one down the
street I've been hoping to check out, apparently it's a husband and wife team
that does some really interesting sounding house and trance mixes. Let's go out
and have a drink and a listen."
            It was an interesting thought. I hadn't been to a club since I was
in my twenties, and part of my wanted to protest that I was too old for it. I
had to remind myself that my memories made me feel a lot older than I actually
seemed to be. "Okay."
            Back in the bedroom, I stared at the closet for a long time.
Truthfully it all rather looked like club wear to me. Finally I settled on a
black, tattered looking vest over a white tank top. It had a cowl-like collar
that was high enough to hide the plate at the back of my neck, like all the
clothes Larry had made for me, and did up with two buckles on the left side of
my chest almost like a double breasted coat. It fell into layers of gauzy
tatters below my ribcage, showing the tank top underneath. I paired it with
white cargo pants, the pockets edged in black piping, and fit the black goggles
that had hung with the vest on the hanger up onto my head like a headband,
spiking my hair behind them and smoothing it forward in front. Then I moved
back into the main room. "Larry? Think this will do?"
            "Hm?" He appeared from the bathroom and stopped short. For a moment
I could only stare. He'd changed his form again, and this girl was sporty and
lithe with small, perky breasts and a tight ass. I could see every line of her
body, which was clad in a shiny dark blue bodysuit - though it was more like a
crop top and pants that connected with a strip down her midline, leaving her
sides and back bare. The pants barely covered her hipbones, and a black belt
was slung around them, holding a few pocket-like bags, much like a utility
belt. The top was low cut enough to show the swell of her breasts and an ample
amount of cleavage, the bottom of the top so high cut that it barely kept her
modest. I focused briefly on the boots - knee high, black and clunky with thick
heels and buckles down the sides - then made myself focus on her - his - face.
His hair was a deep red, a colour I hadn't seen on him yet, cut almost boyishly
short and feathered around his face, slightly longer bits curling in front of
his ears. His eyes were still the same clear blue, and his generous mouth went
well with the boxy chin. He grinned, looking me up and down, and as he moved
the colour of the body suit shifted, slowly changing to a deep purple with
lighter purple geometric patterns on it that almost seemed to glow. "Hey,
nice."
            "Nice yourself," I shot back with a smile, reminding myself to keep
my eyes on her face. "Nifty little trick that fabric does."
            "Isn't it? I saw it in a shop window, took me a while to figure out
how to copy it. You ready to head out?"
            "If you think I'm not too obvious without the shades...."
            He pondered this for a moment, then shook his head. "No, it should
be fine, but maybe I'll put some makeup on you just to be sure. Come here."
            "Makeup?" I didn't make a move closer, staring as he looked down at
his hand, a purse-sized silver box appearing in it.
            "Manly makeup," he assured me, setting the box down on the bathroom
counter and opening the lid. "Come on, it won't bite."
            I stood in the doorway and watched him sort through the contents of
the box with more than a little trepidation, which was full of little bottles
and pencils and pressed powder kits in every shade of the rainbow. Finally he
picked up a dark gray pencil that seemed to be a bit shimmery. "Close your eyes
and hold still."
            I did so, hanging on to the sides of the doorway. At least this way
I wasn't staring at his boobs. At the first touch of the pencil to my skin I
flinched back without being able to stop myself, and Larry gave a little growl.
"Hold still, damn it."
            "I'm trying," I growled back, forcing myself to hold still as I
felt the pencil begin to stroke over my eyelid. "The closest thing I've ever
worn to make up was that cheap stuff you buy to draw hockey logos on your face.
Like, kids face painting stuff."
            He chuckled, low and rich and throaty. "Don't worry, Ben. You'll
look fine."
            "You know guys look incredibly faggy when you put them in eyeliner,
don't - ow!"
            "That didn't hurt," he shot back, drawing the pencil up towards my
eyebrow. "I'm hardly pressing at all, this pencil is really soft."
            "Well it surprised me," I replied somewhat defensively, trying not
to quirk my eyebrow as the pencil moved past it. "What the hell are you doing?"
            "Trust me," came his reply, "I've been staring at fashion shoots
for three weeks making sure we fit in."
            He was at it so long that I was starting to wonder if my entire
face was going to end up gray, but the second eye just ended up getting lined.
"Can I look now?"
            "Not yet." Larry's voice was warm and amused. "Not finished
blending."
            The brush, at least, was softer, dancing over my skin, and with my
eyes closed it was hard not to focus on the gentle touch of his fingers on my
face. Why had I agreed to this again? My mind moved then to the thought of
Larry at the club in this skin-tight little outfit, coloured lights catching
the shiny fabric and the pale bare skin, playing on the sway of his hips and
the quirk of his lips. I was about to call off the outing all together when he
pulled back. "There."
            There was a smear of gunmetal across one eye that started at my
temple and swooped down to just below the center of my eye, perfectly blended,
my other eye just lined and smoky. "It looks good," I said, sounding far more
surprised than I intended, and Larry laughed.
            "You'll be a heart breaker once I'm done with your hair," he said,
smiling. "Go sit down and I'll be right there."
            I did like the result when he'd finished with me, and when we
arrived at the club we fit right in. A wink at the doorman and a few bills got
us to the head of the line, and I bought us both pints of beer with cash from
the wallet that he'd tucked into the back pocket of my cargos. The club was two
levels, and we managed to find an empty table against the railing of the
mezzanine that overlooked the main dance floor. For a time I just sat and
sipped the beer and stared. The couple that Larry had talked about were quite a
sight to see on the small stage that stood in the middle of the floor. The
woman was dressed in a sleeveless mermaid dress made of PVC, arms wrapped with
straps that seemed to be the same material as Larry's jumpsuit, the colour
shifting and changing as she moved. She wore no jewellery that I could see, but
her hair was a huge mass of black dreadlocks with PVC tubes and strips of LED
that shifted and pulsed in time to the beat. She crooned into a microphone,
voice low and sultry, flowing effortlessly into a throaty growl that seemed to
shudder through the crowd visibly. Her partner was blond and stood at her back,
his clothes trimmed with the same LED that pulsed in her hair. He wore bracers
that were lit up with buttons and dials and an eyepiece to match, and was
interacting with what looked like a hologrammed keyboard and turntables that
hovered in the air before him.
            "Let's do shots!" Larry caught my attention with the declaration as
he hopped down off his stool to catch the eye of a waitress walking by with a
large tray of multi-coloured glasses. I couldn't hear them over the sound of
the music, but moments later he returned with a stack of six cups covered with
a clear film to keep them from spilling. "Porn Star, Lemon Drop and a Jell-
O shot!"
            "I thought the plan was to have a few drinks?" I shot back, taking
the first one anyway and pulling the top off.
            "This is a few!" he replied with a grin, picking up the other one
of the same colour - a deep purple. "To getting the hell out of that
apartment!"
            The shot was sickeningly sweet and sour all at the same time, and I
must have made a face, because he laughed, pulling the top off the second,
yellow glass and handing it over. "I know, it's a bit of a girly drink. They
didn't have any whiskey. This one's tequila."
            "To tequila," I replied back with a grin, and shot it back. The
jello shot was bright blue, and for a long moment I just held onto it, watching
Larry's tongue lick the jello out of the glass. I passed him mine and picked up
the beer again. "Too sweet for me," I explained, though part of me just wanted
to see him go at it again with his tongue. I could feel the effect of the
alcohol in a warm kind of glow, which made it rather easier to relax but more
difficult not to stare at the way Larry's lips wrapped around the shot glass.
            He laughed as he set the glass down, sipping his beer. "I like this
band. Good music."
            "It is," I agreed, draining my glass. "You want another beer?"
            "I want to dance," he replied, finishing his own beer. "Come on."
            "Dance?" I'm sure the look I gave him was just as incredulous as
when he suggested the makeup, but Larry merely laughed again, hand tightening
around my arm as he hopped down off his stool again and started to tow me in
the direction of the stairs down to the dance floor.
            We managed to fit into a small spot near the man's side of the
stage, and I tried to approximate what some of the men around me were doing,
letting myself fall in with the beat of the music. It was more interesting to
watch the man on stage play, fingers moving through the air over intangible
controls, though I thought I could see a flash of wiring on the bottom of his
gloves, and now and then he adjusted the controls on his bracers, changing the
hologram display around him.
            It was easy to get caught up in the sway of the crowd around us,
painted faces and multicoloured hair, bodies moving together to the music.
Larry pressed closer as one song transitioned into the next, catching my gaze
with a little hopeful, lopsided smirk. His hands caught the sides of my cargos,
pulling me closer and into rhythm with him, still holding my eyes with his own.
Whether it was the relaxation of the alcohol or the warmth of her hands through
the fabric of my pants, I gave in, letting my hands stroke over the bare skin
of her waist, feeling the shiver that ran through her with the touch. The pulse
of the song was almost primal, and I didn't pull back as Larry arched up
against me, hips pressed to mine, hands pulling me with her as she swayed in
time with the music. It was hard not to think about how good this felt, the
simple, intimate contact that I hadn't felt in so long.
            Larry turned in my embrace, generous mouth turned upwards into a
smile that was a more than a little promising. Her ass was just as tight as it
looked, maybe a little too tight to be a girl's, and as he rocked back against
my thigh I had to wonder how the hell he'd learned to dance like this. I let my
hands smooth over the slick fabric that clung to her hips, stroking up his
waist again and drawing my thumbnails along the band of the top, just under her
breasts. I felt rather than saw the shudder that ran through her at the touch,
lips parting slightly in pleasure, half turning to grin at me, covering my
hands with her own and drawing them back down to rest on his hips. It was easy
to follow his rhythm, moving together, feeling so much warmth between us. Maybe
I shouldn't have tried so hard to resist him. Maybe he wanted it, too.
            I let myself nuzzle her shoulder and up the side of her neck, and
she turned back to me, still smiling, dark and promising. Her fingers brushed
my lips lightly before resting on my shoulders, nuzzling my jaw, almost
grinding against my thigh as she rocked with me. It would have been obscene if
there weren't so many people around us doing the same: couples, girls, men.
Groups of three or more, pressed close and intimate. The emotion in the music
rose, the singer calling out a repeated command in a language I didn't
recognize, and the synth player joined in, the growl of his voice going
straight down my spine. I'd caught Larry's mouth with my own before I could
stop myself, hard and demanding, and her hands clenched at my shoulders,
arching closer, returning my kiss with just as much enthusiasm.
            "Let's go home," she growled in my ear, grabbing my hand as she
pulled away, starting for the club exit. That, I definitely had no problem
with.
            We'd walked the few blocks to the club, but he hailed a cab now,
and it was difficult not to stare at the curve of his ass as he climbed in. He
leaned in to nuzzle my neck as I sat down next to him, hand high on my thigh,
breath hot on my skin. "Wanted this."
            "Me too," I breathed back, returning the nuzzle and stroking my
hand up her sleeve, letting my fingers brush the side of her breast. "This was
a good idea."
            Larry laughed, low and throaty, nipping teasingly at my earlobe
before pulling back. "Even the makeup?"
            I couldn't help but chuckle. "Even the makeup."
            Larry passed cash over the bank of seats to the cabby as we reached
the apartment building, taking my hand again and tugging me inside. He caught
my mouth with his own as soon as we were back inside the apartment itself,
tugging at the closure of my vest as he lead me back towards the bedroom. I let
my hands stroke over everywhere I hadn't dared to touch in the club, finding
the clasp of his belt and tugging it undone, tossing it over the back of the
couch as we passed it. I smoothed my hands up her thighs and over her hips,
over the bare skin of her waist to cup her pert breasts, finding them to be
perfect handfuls, squeezing gently and letting my thumbs stroke over the
quickly hardening peaks I could feel underneath. Larry groaned against my
mouth, low and throaty, pushing my vest off my shoulders and tugging at the
bottom of my tank top, pulling it off over my head, hands stroking over my bare
chest.
            I stroked my fingers over the bare skin at the neckline of her
jumpsuit, over the swell if her breasts, and tugged at the zipper of her
jumpsuit, pulling it undone as she tugged me back onto the bed. It was easy to
let my mouth fall to her neck, trailing hungry kisses down her throat, kissing
the tops of her breasts, nuzzling the soft globes and sucking at her pert
nipples. Still, something sat wrong with me about this, and the hotter we got
the more it pulled at the back of my mind.
            I pulled away from him with a little shake of my head. Truth be
told, I liked this form better than any of the ones he'd had before, but
everything still sat wrong with me. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Larry, I just... I
don't think I'm cut out for this."
            I watched his full lips struggle not to turn into a pout, and he
tugged the sides of the bodysuit together ineffectively, staring down at his
hands. "It's the fact that I'm male underneath this, isn't it."
            It was, but not in the way that he'd think it was if I agreed with
him. I moved to perch on the edge of the bed, still watching him. "Do you enjoy
being like that?"
            He settled for folding his arms across his breasts. "What do you
mean?"
            I tried to figure out how to put my question into words without
being completely offensive. "Does it feel more natural to you?"
            Larry glanced away with a soft, bitter laugh, sitting up on the
edge of the bed as well and crossing one leg over the other, tense and
deliberate. "None of the faces I wear seem natural. But it's a necessity."
            "For you to be a woman."
            "For me not to look like what I really look like."
            "And you prefer to be a woman?"
            Larry stared down at his lap for a long moment. "... no." He was
very still and very pale and obviously upset, well manicured fingernails
digging half moons into his arms, and the bodysuit sent despondent black
ripples out along the fabric from the touch. "Do you mind if I have a
cigarette?"
            "Do they exist here?"
            "They do if I make them." His clothes shifted around him - her -
changing from the bodysuit to an equally tight denim skirt paired with a mesh
top and black leather biker jacket, much more the fashion I was familiar with.
There was nothing under the mesh top apart from neat black X's that covered his
nipples. She pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from one pocket of
jacket, taking one and lighting it, then offering me the box a moment later.
            I took one without hesitation, leaning in as he flicked the
lighter, inhaling and feeling a little soothed at the familiar rush of smoke
and nicotine. Larry tossed the pack and the lighter on the bedside table before
pulling one of the strange metal vases that sat on the headboard as decoration
and plopping it on the bed between us, ashing his cigarette into the mouth of
it.
            "Why do you do it?" I asked softly, watching him. "If you don't
prefer to be a woman... I mean, surely they wouldn't be any more likely to
recognize you if you just changed your appearance as a man...."
            Larry took another long drag of his cigarette, fingers trembling,
still refusing to meet my gaze. He kept himself very calm and very still apart
from the hand that held the cigarette. "I thought you'd like me better this
way," he replied, voice a little hoarse.
            I shook my head in confusion, ashing my cigarette. "I'm sorry I - I
don't understand. I like you fine, Larry. What does it matter what you look
like?"
            He took another drag, blowing the smoke out in a long breath, his
eyes almost unseeing as he stared at the bedroom wall. "I mean.... I wanted you
to like me enough to want to sleep with me."
            It all made a strange kind of sense. My mind thought back over
every way I'd seen him - tall, short, curvy, lithe, exotic and sweet. Every
body type, every hair colour.... "You were trying to figure out what kind of
woman I liked."
            "Isn't that obvious?" Larry gave a soft laugh, and it seemed
somehow brittle. He stubbed out the end of his cigarette on the edge of the
vase mouth before dropping it inside, picking up the pack of cigarettes again.
            "Can you just try being you?
            Larry froze, staring at the half opened box of cigarettes in his
hands. "... you don't like men."
            "I don't know what I like," I admitted, stubbing out my cigarette.
"I mean, I was married, yeah. But we never actually had sex, the only times I
was with her would have been in the false memories Daniel made. But I do know
that I like you. And I don't like that you're pretending to be something you're
not just to please me." I leaned forward to take the pack of cigarettes from
him, setting it aside with the vase. "Just be you, Larry. Please."
            He closed his eyes for a moment, and this time when he changed it
seemed somehow effortless, as if melting back to what was underneath all the
masks. It was the second face he'd worn, I realized, the night we first met,
when we'd first come back to this apartment. The same comfortable clothes, too
- worn jeans and a plain white button down shirt. He seemed very similar to the
face he'd just worn, as if he and the girl could be siblings - the same boxy
jaw and generous mouth, the same blue eyes and red hair. But it felt natural
now. And while he wasn't handsome in the traditional sense, there was
definitely something very appealing about him....
            I shifted along the bed to perch beside him, reaching to cup a
cheek gently and turn his face to me. He searched my gaze worriedly, and I gave
him what I hoped was a reassuring smile, stroking my thumb over his cheekbone,
taking in his features. "This is better."
            "But you're not...."
            "Shhh," I replied, and before he could continue, leaned in to press
my lips to his.
            Larry gave a little helpless moan against my skin, his hands coming
to cup my shoulders lightly, trembling as if afraid I might pull away. I
answered the concern wordlessly with a warmer kiss, pressing closer and
slipping my free arm around his waist, drinking in the lushness of his mouth
against mine. It was different, yes, and certainly new to feel the hard angles
of his body, the slight roughness of his skin against my own, but... this felt
real. This felt right.
            When I flicked my tongue against his lips they parted to my request
without hesitation, sucking at my top lip as I caught his full bottom lip
between my own, finding it even more arousing to suck at it now then when he'd
been a girl. His throaty groan was better too, low and husky, sending a shudder
of arousal straight to my cock like the singer at the club had done. I pressed
him back down into the bed, revelling in the warmth and strength of his body
against mine, his arms tight around me, pulling me closer. The taste of his
lips, the scent of him, the little helpless groans I pulled from his lips with
each rock of my hips against his... there was something so familiar about it
all, something I felt I should remember, like the traces of a dream....
            "You can do anything you want to me," he breathed against my mouth,
fingers stroking hungrily over my back, tightening on my ass to pull me closer.
"Please."
            The clench of his hands sent an unexpected surge of arousal through
me, and I let myself grind slowly against him, revelling in the low waves of
pleasure that came from the press of his hips to mine, the feel of an
undoubtedly masculine hardness through his jeans. I started to tug the buttons
of his shirt undone, letting him help me, pushing it off his shoulders when we
finished and pulling back just enough for him to shrug it off. His skin still
tasted the same when I kissed him, licking at the crook of his neck and nipping
at his collarbone, hands stroking up his arms and over the tattooed band on his
right bicep. It reminded me of one of my own, the Celtic knot work on the band
very similar, and I leaned down to kiss the ink. "Good taste."
            He chuckled softly, stroking his fingers through the spikes of my
hair. "Have it on my real body. What you see is... well, me."
            "I like it," I decided, leaning in to catch his lips with my own
again, licking against them, kissing him deeper to taste the lingering
sweetness of the drinks at the clubs. I let myself lay to one side of him,
stroking a hand down his midline to cup his cock through his jeans, squeezing
lightly, teasing, smiling as he drew a sharp hiss against my mouth.
            "Oh Christ, Ben...."
            "Mmhmm?" I tugged the belt and button of his jeans undone, slowly
dragging down the zipper and slipping my hand inside to cup him through the
thin cotton of his boxers, smiling at the little whimper it drew from his
throat.
            "Tell me what you want from me." He arched up into my touch,
drawing a sharp breath when I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers,
giving a little moan at the feel of hard heat of his cock against my palm as I
stroked him slowly. "Want me to suck you off? Fuck my mouth? Oh fuck, Ben,
anything...."
            "I want to thank you for taking such good care of me," I replied,
nuzzling the soft skin at the corner of his jaw before nipping gently at it,
lathing it with my tongue. I helped him tug off his jeans, curling my fingers
around his cock with a little appreciative moan, stroking him slowly from root
to tip. "God, so much better like this."
            Larry gave a helpless little laugh, rocking up into my touch just a
little, finding my mouth with his own. "Just being with you is thanks enough,"
he murmured against my mouth, angling to reach for the closure of my cargo
pants, tugging them open as well, teasing me through the fabric of my shorts.
"Don't want you to feel obligated to do anything you don't want to. You call
the shots, handsome."
            I drew a soft hiss at the tease of his hand on my cock, so many
possibilities running through my mind, the first and foremost being a question
as to how it would feel to bury myself in his ass and see if he was as tight as
I thought he'd be when we were on the dance floor. I shifted to claim his mouth
again, slow and warm and deep, revelling in the touch of his hand through my
boxers. I circled the head of his cock with my thumb, surprisingly turned on
even more by the slick arousal there, smoothing it down his shift. "God, you're
beautiful. Really want to fuck you, Lar."
            "Please." Larry's hips gave a little buck up into my fingers, his
voice catching on the words. "Oh fuck, yes. Please. Oh god, Ben, need you." He
started to tug at my cargos, and I wriggled out of them before pulling him
close again, tangling my legs with his, letting our hips press together.
            "God." It was so warm between us, so real, the feel of his bare
skin against mine almost decadent. Larry gave a little whimper of agreement,
slipping a hand between us to curl around both our cocks, rocking against me
slightly as he began to stroke us together. I drew a sharp gasp against his
mouth, fingers digging into his hip, arching closer. "Feels so good," I hissed,
shifting until I could curl my other hand with his, stroking together, kissing
him almost desperately, again and again, rocking up into our combined touch
just to feel my cock slide against his.
            Larry finally broke away, meeting my gaze, blue eyes dark and
needy. "Lube in the drawer beside you if you still want this, lover."
            "Hell yeah." I grabbed the small bottle in question, drawing a soft
breath as he stretched out on his stomach on the bed before me, grabbing one of
the pillows and holding it to his chest. I let some of the lube drizzle between
his ass cheeks, stroking my fingers through the slick and over his hole,
feeling him shudder and push back against me. "Bareback?"
            "Can't catch anything here unless they plan it," he replied
breathlessly, still trying to grind back against my fingers, hips undulating.
            "At least there's a bit of a silver lining," I replied with a soft
chuckle, still watching him move. God, how could a girl be sexier than this? I
eased two fingers into him carefully, a rush of satisfaction running down my
spine at his throaty groan, as he rocked back to push my fingers deeper.
            "Christ, yes. More. I can take it."
            "You're incredible," I found myself breathing, pumping my fingers
in him a few times, curving them up inside him until I felt them brush against
the firm point of heat that made him cry out and clench around my me, pressing
back more. I'd done this before, I realized as I continued to tease him,
slicking a third finger and folding it along the first two, working them
carefully back into him. Another life, another identity I couldn't remember. I
knew this. God, I wanted this.
            "Ben." Larry groans were catching with each thrust of my fingers,
drawn up into almost a whimper. "Oh fuck, please. Fuck me. God, fuck me."
            "Gladly." I took a moment to slick my cock, trying not to think
about how tight he'd be and how long it had been, trying to keep enough of my
wits about me not to just come all over his tight little ass. I urged his
thighs further apart to kneel between them, leaning with my forearm on the bed
beside his as I used one hand to guide my erection to him, teasing him with the
head of my cock. I closed my eyes for a moment as I pressed into him slowly,
feeling his body stretch tight around just my head, then pulling away to do it
again, drawing deep breaths to cling to restraint. I mouthed warm kisses along
his shoulder and up his neck. "Sure this is what you want?"
            "Jesus Christ, Ben." He tried to rock up onto my cock, giving a
little frustrated whimper when I pulled back completely. "You want me to get
filthy and beg for it? Fuck me. Pound that beautiful thick cock into my ass.
Fuck my hole hard and fast and then fill me with your come."
            "Holy fuck." I buried myself inside him in one hard thrust before I
could stop myself, groaning at the tight heat of his body surrounding my cock,
shuddering around me. "Oh god, you're dirty."
            "You seem to like it," he replied breathlessly, rocking up against
me with a low groan. "Christ, you're big. Oh god. Give me a minute."
            I pressed my lips to the corner of his jaw, letting myself rest on
my other arm as well, tightening them around him as he rocked back against me
slowly, his body fluttering and clenching on my cock. "Feels so good, Lar. So
hot inside your tight little ass." I let my teeth graze his neck, and he cried
out at the sensation, hips jerking back against mine a little harder.
            "More," he gasped, one hand finding mine, twining our fingers
together and clenching harder. "Please, I'm good for it. Oh god, fuck me."
            "Shhh..." I trailed warm kisses down the side of his neck as I
began to move, pulling back slowly before pushing deep again, long, smooth
thrusts that pulled throaty groans from his mouth. "However you want it, sexy.
Want you to feel so good...." I shifted a little, angling down and driving
harder into him, hearing him curse as he bucked up against me, crying out.
            "Oh fuck, there - ! Do that again, please, oh god, Ben, your cock -
!"
            I nipped at the crook of his neck as I repeated the motion, driving
against his sweet spot as I took him again and again. It was intoxicating,
hearing his shuddering cries, feeling him rock up against me as if hungry and
helpless for as much sensation as possible. I lavished his neck and shoulder
with kisses and nips and bites that would probably leave marks afterward, not
caring about anything but the intensity of sensation between us. "Want me to
jerk you off?" I breathed, nipping at his earlobe, and I couldn't tell if his
reply was a helpless laugh or a sob of pleasure.
            "Just fuck me. Christ, keep doing that. Oh fuck Ben, don't stop!"
            I bucked into him a little harder, still angling to draw a gasping
sob of pleasure from him on each thrust, trembling with the effort to hold off.
He felt so good, tight and hot and shuddering around me, but more than that I
ached with unexpected emotion, some deep seated need to be as close to him as
possible, to please him, to hear him cry out my name. I pressed my lips to his
ear, groaning against his skin. "You close, beautiful? Going to come for me
like this? Come on, sexy. Let me feel you."
            "Ben - !" Larry jerked up against me with a choked little cry, hips
bucking up onto my cock almost erratically, and I could feel his body clench
around me almost impossibly tight, feel the shudders of sensation that rippled
through him as he gasped out his climax. I forced myself to keep control,
revelling in the clench of his body, the elation of feeling him come, rocking
with him gently to draw him through his orgasm. I held back until he bucked up
against me, breathless, voice rough with pleasure. "Don't stop, baby. Fuck me
hard. Come in me. Fill me up."
            "Oh god." His words had the same effect on me as they did the first
time, and I rocked hard into him, hips hitting against his ass as I gave in and
let my passion take over. I couldn't last much longer, pleasure overwhelming my
senses, jerking up into him again and again as I came in a rush of sensation,
spurting hot and thick inside him. "God, Larry, oh fuck - !"
            Larry's hand clenched on mine almost painfully tight, drawing
shuddering gasps under me. He turned his face into my breathless kisses until I
could catch the corner of his mouth with my own, kisses warm and slow and
gentle as we both slowly calmed. "Thank you," he murmured, voice still low and
rough and thick with emotion. "God, I needed that. I needed you. Thank you."
            There was so much I wanted to say about how right this felt, like
this was everything that had been missing and that I finally felt complete. But
how could I even hope to explain it when I couldn't even put it into words
myself? "Me too, sweetheart. Was so good. You're so perfect."
            I drew away finally, sighing as my softening cock slipped from the
warmth of his embrace. We shared a shower, trading lazy, decadent kisses as we
cleaned each other up, then threw a towel down on the wet spot and curled up
together in bed. Larry nestled against me, pressing a soft kiss to my chest and
relaxing with his head tucked under my chin, and I stroked my fingers slowly
through his hair and down his spine, over and over. "Don't ever sleep on the
couch again."
            He chuckled softly, sleepily, giving a little contented sigh as I
tucked the covers around his shoulders. "As long as we can have lots of that
mind-blowing sex."
            "Deal," I replied, kissing his hair and letting myself relax into
sleep.

***
***** Miss Leonessa Husscroft *****
Miss Leonessa Husscroft

            In my dreams, I'm surrounded by dancers - by ladies in high waisted
gowns that fall straight and flowing to the floor, their hair pinned up in
curls, and by gentlemen in smartly cut suits. The dress I wear is my own
needlework, carefully stitched silk and chiffon in cream and a pale sage, tied
tight under my breasts, the ribbons falling sleek down my back with my skirts
to the floor.
            My father is the son of a son of a Knight Bannaret, a merchant and
a trader with a respectable fortune. I am his only child since a riding
accident five years hence that killed my elder brother, and as he has no
brothers or cousins or relatives to speak of, I am the sole heiress to his
money. I am almost eighteen, well old enough to be married, and as such my
attendance at these dances is notable, and filled with gentlemen plying for
spots on my dance cards. It's overwhelming and at times distressing - unlike
most ladies of my status who look for love and wealth in their suitors, I will
never know if a gentleman's smile is for my beauty or for my father's money
            This dance is different, though, and I wait in a mixture of nervous
excitement and trepidation. My father has told me to leave my dance card empty,
but didn't explain why. The little I know is from Miss Katherina Welby, with
whom I often sew in the afternoon. Her chambermaid is friends with one of the
servants at Sterling House, where my father often gambles, much to my mother's
disdain. While it is considered a gentlemanly sport, there have been too many
instances of entire fortunes lost in the course of an unlucky evening. The
whispers from the servants speak of a remarkably unlucky game of cards less
than a fortnight ago, where a latecomer to the game won a sum from my father
large enough to pauper us. It was the kind of shame that would likely see me
grow old as a spinster or a laundress. But the matter was settled quietly
behind closed doors, and my father left with his fortune intact. I can only
wonder at the honour of such a man who would do that. I know nothing of him
other than that he is the youngest son of the Duke of Greenwater, and not
having the same duties and responsibilities to the title as his elder brother,
has made a name for himself in the British army. A Lieutenant-Colonel in high
regard.
            "Miss Husscroft?"
            I turn towards the voice behind me, low and warm, and am
immediately lost in the most beautiful pair of grey-blue eyes that I've ever
seen, bright and warm and adoring. Just as striking is the gentleman they
belong to, who is quite possibly the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes
on. He's far more distinguished than the boys who normally chase me, and older
as well, probably closer to my father's age than my own. But that isn't a
deterrent to a smart girl. Not when love is involved.
            It takes a moment for me to realize he is still speaking to me,
most of his words lost until he says, "Would it please you to join me in a
dance?"
            I realize that I've completely missed his introduction, and I flush
darkly - an unbecoming trait I've never been able to shake, but it seems to
make him smile. "I - my apologies, sir, my father has requested that I refrain
from such festivities tonight." I feel a rush of disappointment as I say them;
for once, I truly wanted to dance.
            "Your father has requested that I make your acquaintance," he
replies, still smiling softly. He nods towards the side of the hall, where I
can see my father in conversation with Lord Sterling. He meets my gaze and
gives a little approving nod.
            All at once my blood runs cold, and I'm thrown into a turmoil of
emotion. I stare up at him, trying to remember what he's introduced himself as.
"Lord Greenwater?"
            "Colonel Lord William Frankland. Of Greenwater. Lord Greenwater is
my elder brother, the Marquise." He's still smiling, though he seems a little
worried now. "You may call me Colonel Frankland if you wish, as others do." I'm
silent long enough that the smile fades, and his eyebrows knit together a
little. "If you have no desire to dance, Miss Husscroft, then please accept my
apologies for disturbing you."
            "I would very much like to dance." I smile, and bow my head to him
in greeting, fingers tightening on my closed fan. Everything has suddenly made
sense to me, a rush of information coming together. Of course a true gentleman
would never be as unkind as to knowingly pauper a man with family. But if he
asked my father for permission to court me, to marry me... then it would be a
perfectly respectable way to collect what was rightfully his. I want to cry
suddenly. How foolish of me to think that I was worthy of the attention of such
a gentleman. This is just, as everything is, about my father's money. But I
will honour my family, so I smile and follow him to the dance floor.
            We wait with other couples for our turn to join the merriment, but
the look of concern hasn't left his face. Here on the dance floor amidst the
music and revelry is the only time that a man and a woman can speak with each
other without it being unseemly. "Miss Husscroft... I'm sorry, are you well?"
            I smile wider. I want so badly to take his kindness at face value.
"I am, Colonel Frankland. Thank you. Forgive me, it is a little overwhelming to
be blessed with the attention of an officer and a gentleman."
            "For beauty such as yours, attention should be a right, not a
blessing," he replies with a soft smile, though he seems a little sad.
            I glance away, flushing despite myself. "You are too kind."
            "Is it considered kindness to be truthful?" He asks, and before I
can reply, takes my hand and draws me into the dance.
            I'm torn between elation and despair, but as we move together, lost
in the gaiety of the dance, my heart settles into a kind of acceptance. My
marriage has always been about my father’s money. At least if I am meant to
marry him, I can be sure that my husband will be handsome and kind.
            He squeezes my hand gently when the music finishes, his smile so
sweet that I feel close to swooning. Then he thanks me for the dance and
disappears from the hall.
            My father quizzes me nonstop on the way home. Did I know who I was
dancing with? Did I like him? Could I love him? If he continued to pay suite,
would I allow it? I feel suddenly tired and answer exactly as I know he wishes
me to. With each answer I accept more and more the reality of the situation.
Still, I wish that this handsome man would love me for love alone.
            The next evening my father is furious. Colonel Frankland has
returned to Greenwater. What had I done to turn him away? Don't I know what is
at stake? He fumes and yells until it drives me to tears, until my mother
finally takes me in her arms and sends my father from the room with angry
words. She strokes my hair as I sob into her shoulder, soothing me with soft
words, but none of it changes the fact that I'm not even worth marrying for
money.
            I fall ill, and for days my mother nurses me with bitter teas
brewed from willow bark that make me sleep and sleep and sleep. I don't see
daylight for days. It's an escape from reality. I don't hear of anything
related to Colonel Frankland or the outside world, and it's almost a blessing
just to sleep and forget about everything that's happened. My mother strokes a
cool cloth over my forehead. "None of this is your fault, Leonessa. Your father
has been a fool. I never want you to marry for anything other than love."
            A week later my father pushes his way into my room despite my
mother's complaints. "Get up. Colonel Frankland is on his way to the city and
has asked to meet with you privately tomorrow evening. You will cease these
silly fainting spells and meet with him. You will answer his suite and if he
asks for an engagement you damn well accept!"
            "She's sick," my mother argues angrily. "She's in no state to be
out of bed, let alone receiving offers of marriage!"
            "You know very well what is at stake here," my father shoots back.
They leave the room to continue their exchange, and all I can hear are their
angry voices. It ends in my mother’s sobs.
            When night falls my mother helps me wash and dress silently,
brushing my hair until it shines, pinning my dark curls up as beautifully as if
I was attending a dinner or dance with the highest of society. She applies the
slightest touch of paint to my lips to cover the pallor of my illness,
remarking that at least there is no need to cover my habitual blushes with
powder; the illness has left me pale and drawn. Still, my mother laces my stays
as tight as she can and dresses me in one of my finest gowns, and when I look
in the mirror I am pale and willowy, and I can almost believe it when she says
that I am beautiful.
            I meet with Colonel Frankland in my parent's finest parlour, but
for a long moment he just stands at the door, hat in hand. "Please forgive me,
Miss Husscroft."
            It takes me a moment to react; I've forgotten how handsome he is. I
shake my head. "You have been most kind, Colonel Frankland. There is nothing to
forgive."
            "There is much," he disagrees, stepping into the room finally,
looking down at his hat. "My leaving was hasty, I can't imagine the impression
it has given you. I was called home on family business, but in part I needed to
think on my actions. I acted very rashly. I had no intention to hurt you."
            I couldn't force myself to meet his gaze, but I managed to keep a
smile on my face. "You have been a perfect gentleman, Colonel Frankland."
            "Your father says you took ill after my departure."
            "It was a mere cold. I am well."
            Colonel Frankland gives a soft sigh, then sets his hat down on the
table, reaching to take my hand with both of his, cradling it gently. His hands
are warm and strong, and I try to keep myself from trembling. "Miss Husscroft,
do you know of what transpired between your father and I at Sterling House?"
            I hesitate, and then give a small nod. "You have been most kind to
my family."
            "I have no need or interest in your father's money." His words are
blunt, and I look up at him in shock, loosing myself momentarily in the
intensity of his gaze. "My work as an officer, my inheritance from my father,
the money I will have when I sell my office - I have more money than I will
ever need, Miss Husscroft. I wagered with your father because I could not see
you suffer if he lost his business to another. I asked only for his permission
to court you. I have no interest into forcing you into marriage to save your
family's honour."
            For a long moment I can hardly speak, and I try to push away the
faintness that teases at the edge of my vision, try to remember to breathe.
"But you didn't even know me."
            "I saw you at Sterling House when I first arrived," he says gently.
"You were walking through the gardens by lamplight in the evening with Miss
Sterling and a few other girls." He glances away with a soft, sad laugh, lips
pressing together into a tight line. "I have always been a practical man, Miss
Husscroft. I have strongly refuted the existence of true love or love at first
sight. I have much proclaimed my intent to never marry. And yet when I saw
you... for the first time I found I must contend with the possibility that
everything I've ever believed about love is wrong."
            My heart beats so loudly that I'm certain he can hear it, and for
the first time I let myself start to believe that this is, indeed, about
something more than money. "My father thinks you are here to ask for my hand in
marriage."
            "I have no wish to force a choice on you," he replies, though he
doesn't let go of my hand. "Come for a walk with me, if you wish. Today,
tomorrow, whenever you wish. Let me court you. I will arrange for the
appropriate chaperons. If it pleases you to be with me, then I will ask again
for engagement."
            Finally the uncertainty that has eaten away at me for days has
settled. I want to tell him that there is no need, that I love him already.
That he has entirely swept me off my feet. Instead I smile for real this time,
certain I am blushing despite my mother's best efforts to keep me pale, and
agree.
            The next few evenings hold every excuse for him to spend time in my
company. We walk for hours, with anyone and everyone who will agree to
chaperon. My family is invited to dine at Sterling House, where he stays as a
guest. Most of all I wish for another dance, so I can feel the touch of his
hand on my own again.
            Days after we become engaged the word comes - his older brother has
died of consumption, without an heir. Colonel Frankland is saddened, but
unsurprised, and when we speak quietly in my father's parlour under my father's
watchful eye he gives a smile in apology. "I knew when I returned home. I
apologize for keeping it from you. I wanted to be certain that our marriage
would be based solely on love."
            "I'm glad you did," I murmur, and let my hand rest over his on the
table, ever so fleetingly.
            The day that I marry the now Marquise of Greenwater - the day I
become Lady Leonessa Greenwater - only then can I finally feel the press of his
lips on mine. His kisses are soft and worshipful, his hands gentle on my body
as he carefully undoes the row of pearl buttons down the back of my silver
gown. He nuzzles my throat, murmuring my name softly - Leonessa - so reverent
and intimate and sweet. I call him Frank, my distinguished gentleman. When I'm
laid out under him, devoid of all my feminine trappings, he looks at me like
I'm the most precious thing in the world and covers my body in reverent kisses,
his breath warm against my skin as he murmurs soft endearments.
            The sensations he awakes in my body are not entirely unknown, but
this is the first time they have been roused by the hands of another, and I
burn so brightly for him. I love him for the care he takes with me, the
adoration he shows me, the way he loves me more entirely than I've ever dreamed
of being loved, and even when he takes my maidenhood he is so attentive to me
that all I feel is pleasure. After he spills inside me he presses his mouth to
my sex, parting the folds with his tongue, soothing me with gentle licks that
bring me to greater heights of pleasure than I ever thought possible. He licks
and sucks at the pearl of my desire gently, again and again until my world
falls apart, pleasure shaking through my body, making me arch tense and gasp
out his name.
            I want this forever, to be in his arms every night and every
morning, to raise his children. I curl close to him and whisper that he's made
me the luckiest woman in the world.

            I woke up, gasping for breath, my heart aching like my entire world
had crumbled around me. It was silly, it was stupid. How could I mourn
something that wasn't even real? But it had felt so real - the touch of his
hands, his endearments. His kisses.
            I knew it couldn't be real. But it didn't make it hurt any less.

            I couldn't keep my mind from the dream at work. I'd always wanted
Frank Bumstead, even before I was transferred to work as his assistant. I'd
always pushed aside that attraction. He was my boss, and I was pretty sure he'd
been married in the past from the photo that he kept on his desk, which
generally meant he wouldn't be interested in a guy like me. It unfortunately
didn't stop me from longing for him, but I could content myself with the
interactions we had. Frank was brilliant and kind and the perfect mentor,
teaching me to be a better officer as we investigated cases together, and I
knew I was very lucky to work under him.
            The day after the dream, however, I couldn't seem to forget it. It
was too vivid, and I'd catch myself expecting him to smile at me like he had in
the dream, or to rest his hand on the small of my back as we talked, warm and
possessive. It was troubling, and harder than normal to pass aside.
            I stopped by his office at the end of the day with a data-chip
containing all my completed reports. "Is there anything else you need me to do
today, sir?"
            "Not today, Husselbeck. Thank you." Frank was reading over a
document, but took off his glasses as we spoke, folding them and setting them
aside with the viewing tablet. "Stay here for a minute, though. Have a seat."
            I perched in the wooden chair that sat beside his desk like I had
many times before, pouring over reports and lists of suspects and evidence.
"Sir?"
            Frank watched me for a long moment, a little troubled, and when he
finally spoke his words were careful. "You've seemed distracted today. Out of
sorts. Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"
            I glanced away, feeling my stomach flip-flop. "I'm sorry, sir.
There's nothing wrong."
            "And I'm the Queen of Sheba." When I glanced back he was smiling
slightly. "Is someone giving you trouble?"
            I shook my head. "No... no, just love issues, I'm afraid. I won't
let it affect my work."
            "I know you won't. But I'm worried about you." He leaned forward to
rest one hand on my shoulder, warm and comforting. "Would you like to tell me
about it, Leon?"
            I shivered despite myself at the touch, swallowing down the lump in
my throat. I couldn't look at him, not when he was being so kind and I wanted
him so badly. "It's... it's all right, sir. Just trying to adjust to loving
someone that I can't have. I'll get over him in time."
            "All right," he said after a moment's pause, sitting back in his
chair. "Just let me know if you ever need anything, okay?"
            I forced a smile and nodded. "Thank you, sir. I will."
            It wasn't until I was outside the precinct that I realized I'd
clearly said 'him' when I referred to my love interest, completely given myself
away. My stomach gave a sickening lurch at the realization, and though I tried
to push it away, my hands were shaking as I unlocked the door and turned on the
lights when I returned home to my apartment. I made a cup of tea to try and
calm my nerves and promptly threw it up again, spending the remainder of the
night tossing and turning in bed and wondering what kind of trouble I'd just
gotten myself into.
***
 
***** Maison and Emma *****
May Maison and Emma

            Emma and I lived the club scene, and woke up shortly into each
second half to prepare for the night's show. This night I found myself staring
at my outfit in the mirror with strange trepidation. The pants were fine -
shiny black PVC covered with belts edged in blue LED piping, and it looked
fabulous on stage. It had a matching cummerbund that went up to just under my
rib cage, and my bracers would glow blue to match. It was the top that I was
having issues with. Or rather, the lack thereof.
            I'd worn the bolero top that went with this dozens of times,
covering my arms and shoulders while leaving my chest bare. Emma's outfit to
match was a cap-sleeve mini dress in black lyrca and chiffon with a keyhole
cut-out on the chest that showed off ample cleavage. But when I put on the
bolero tonight, I felt... naked.
            I couldn't keep down the well of unexplainable panic as I turned to
Emma. "I can't wear this."
            "Hmm?" Emma glanced up from where she sat at the vanity, applying
vinyl mascara to her long lashes. "What's wrong, baby?"
            "I...." I stopped, trying to fight down the panic, to find some
kind of reasonable explanation. "I'm naked."
            Emma raised an eyebrow. "You look fine...?"
            I shook my head, biting down hard on my bottom lip and trying to
keep my breath even. "No - no, I feel naked. I can't go out like this, I
can't...."
            Emma rose from her seat in concern, crossing the room to slip her
arms around my waist. "You okay, Maison? It's not like you to freak out like
this...."
            It was true, I realized, and I took a deep breath, clinging to her
tightly. "I know. I - I don't know what's wrong with me, I just...." I pressed
my face to her headdress and closed my eyes, trying to make the world stop
spinning. I couldn't tell her about the dreams I'd been having - I could hardly
understand them myself. Why did I feel so much more at peace when I dreamed of
myself as a woman?
            Emma's fingers stroked through my hair, her voice a comforting
murmur, lips pressed to my temple. "Shhh... you need to take a night off, baby?
Can stay home and talk about it, or we can just relax...."
            It would be nice, I had to admit, to just curl up in her arms and
forget about it. But part of me felt compelled to tell her, and I knew if we
stayed home it would somehow come spilling out. What would she think of me? I
pulled back and shook my head slowly. "No, I... it will be better if I have
something else to focus on. I just... I can't wear this."
            "All right," she agreed, stroking the side of my face gently as she
pulled back, still concerned. "What about that lyrca turtleneck you have? You
could wear that under the waistband...."
            I nodded slowly, and when I was finally dressed I did feel a little
better. Less exposed. But I couldn't quite shake the underlying dread. Why had
the thought of being shirtless in the middle of the club made me panic like
that? What the hell was wrong with me?
            I gladly lost myself in Emma's embrace when we returned home,
helping her undress, revelling in the warmth and softness of her body. It was
easier to focus on those sweet lips, to kiss her throat, cupping her lush
breasts with my hands and lifting them to my mouth in turn, kneading gently as
I teased her nipples with my lips and teeth. She made me as hard as always,
pressed close to the sweetness of her body, and when her fingers curled around
my cock I just closed my eyes and tried to focus on how good it felt and not
how strange it felt. Emma urged me back towards the bed, but tugged me down to
sit on the edge, sinking down to her knees in front of me with a little
appreciative noise, kissing my chest, teasing my nipples with little flicks of
her tongue. I couldn't help but watch her as she licked up the underside of my
cock, watch her eyes fall closed as her lips parted over the tip, hand cupping
my balls gently, taking more of me in her mouth with each bob of her head.
            It was too much.
            "Stop," I whimpered, jerking back, and she looked up at me, blue-
green eyes wide and concerned. I tried to cover it, leaning down to kiss her,
tugging her up into bed. "Want to make love to you."
            "I'll never say no to that," she murmured, returning my kisses
warmly, fingers threading through my hair. I could feel her concern still
linger, though, and did my best to drive it away with my kisses, my touch,
lavishing attention on her body. Rocking up into the warmth of her body was
easier, and I could let myself believe, just for a moment, that things were
like they were in my dreams, that Emma and I were perfectly matched.
            Afterward Emma nestled her face into my neck, hand smoothing up and
down my back. "Am I doing something wrong?" she asked, her voice soft and
small, and it almost broke my heart.
            I tightened my arms around her, closing my eyes. "No. Oh sugar, you
haven't done anything wrong. You're so beautiful, so perfect. I just...." I let
out a soft breath, trying to find the words, frightened of her rejection. "I
don't know what's wrong with me. I.... just don't feel like me."
            "What do you mean, baby?" Her lips pressed to my throat, breath a
soft caress on my skin. "I don't understand."
            "I... I feel like I'm supposed to be a girl." The words said, all I
could do was keep my eyes closed and wait. I felt Emma move, felt her soft sigh
against my mouth, her gentle kisses against my lips, my cheeks, my eyelids.
            "If… if you want to experiment with men…" she started slowly, and
my eyes flew open.
            "No, no men. You don’t understand. I don't want anyone but you."
            Emma's eyebrows knit together slightly. "Can you explain it to me,
Mai?"
            I wet my lips, thinking, trying to make sense of it all. "I feel...
wrong. Like I don't belong like this. I dream about being a woman, making love
to you as a woman, and I... that feels right. I wake up and it's like I'm
waking up in someone else’s body."
            Emma's eyebrows were still knit together, but she gave me a brave
smile, leaning in to kiss me again. "I'll always love you, and you'll always be
sexy to me. No matter what. I'll always be here with you. You know that, don't
you?"
            There was so much that could happen, but somehow her words soothed
my fears, and I relaxed into her, pressing my lips to her hair as I drew a
trembling breath. "Thank you."


            Four cycles later I found myself in the reception area of a quiet
office, my clothes plain, my hair parted on the side and brushed down in a
semblance of normalcy. Emma was at my side in a soft gray pantsuit, fingers
laced with mine, and when I looked over at her she gave me an encouraging smile
and squeezed my hand.
            The door to the side of the reception desk opened, and an older
woman stepped out, giving the receptionist a smile and thanking her as she
left. The receptionist disappeared inside the office for a moment, and then
returned, giving me a smile. "Maison Jensen? Doctor Schreber will see you now."
            I gave Emma's hand a squeeze in return before letting go, then took
a deep breath and stood, walking past the desk and into the office before I
could change my mind, closing the door behind me.
            The office was old fashioned, and it took me a moment to adjust,
used to the sleek lines and minimalism that were so popular. This was warm,
though, inviting, and everything was done in deep, calming tones. The walls
were lined with bookshelves made of dark wood, filled with books - actual books
instead of viewing file catalogues and chips, with hard covers and paper pages.
The desk was a deep mahogany, carved, matching the carved sofa and easy chair,
which were upholstered with a deep wine coloured leather. There were a trio of
wooden filing cabinets behind the desk, and a blond man stood at them with his
back to me, dressed appropriately to the room in a chocolate coloured suit, the
lines sleek. The coat came to mid thigh, almost like an old fashioned frock
coat, the sleeves done up with gold and amber cuff links.
            He turned to me, and I started despite myself. The doctor wore a
pair of silver rimmed glasses, but the right side had a device attached to it,
the lens of the glasses covering some kind of camera system where the doctor's
right eye should be. My stare was obvious, and he gave an apologetic smile.
            "I apologize for my appearance; I understand it is rather
startling. I had an accident as a child. I can assure you that the replacement
is not a recording device, but if it makes you uncomfortable I can cover it."
            "No." I shook my head and managed a smile, offering my hand. "It's
fine, I apologize for my surprise. I'm Maison Jennings."
            "Doctor Daniel Poe Schreber." He crossed the room to shake my hand,
his grasp warm and secure. His step was a little too fluid, and when I glanced
down I could see hover devices built into his boots, which was something I'd
never seen before. Mentally I catalogued the look and made a note to
investigate what the cost would be to get a pair made for our shows.
            "Thank you for making room to see me, Doctor."
            Doctor Schreber smiled, and held his hands out towards the
furniture. "I am more than happy to speak with you about whatever you like.
Please have a seat. How would you prefer to be called?"
            "Mai," I replied automatically, and he gave a little nod.
            "All right. Would you like something to drink, Mai? Water? Tea?"
            "I'm fine, thank you," I replied, pondering the furniture for a
moment before sitting down in the easy chair. He sat opposite to me on the
couch, and before I could stop myself everything came out in a rush. "I feel
like I'm living a lie. My body horrifies me. I can't stand to look at myself,
and when I move I feel unnatural, I feel... fake."
            "All right." Doctor Schreber's voice was soft, not at all surprised
by my outburst. But then again, he'd come highly recommended as an expert when
it came to dealing with feelings of... dysphoria. "What does fake mean to you?
Your existence is fake?"
            I paused, then shook my head. "No. No, I just... I feel like I'm
not supposed to be who I am. I feel like... like I should be female. Not gay, I
- I love my wife. I still want my wife. I just... I'm not supposed to be like
this."
            Doctor Schreber nodded slowly, seriously. "How is this affecting
you, Mai?"
            I wet my lips and looked down at my hands in my lap. "At first it
was just a bit... weird, you know? But more and more it's all I can think
about. When I make love to my wife I have to try and imagine that..." I
hesitated - the explanation sounded so vulgar in my mind. "That I'm just using
a sex toy to please her, that it isn't real."
            Doctor Schreber picked up a blank notebook from the stack on the
coffee table between us, making a few notes, asking more questions. How long
had I felt this way? How fast had it escalated? Did I feel that it was
triggered by anything, or made worse by anything? I tried to answer as best I
could, even telling him about the dreams. Before I knew it, our hour was up.
            He stood fluidly, offering his hand to me, but when I took it he
clasped it in both of his. "Please know that you are not alone in what you are
feeling, and that I am truly sorry for the pain it has caused you. I will be
happy to help you work through this. Don't think about this as trying to make
any kind of decision. The goal is simply to make you feel at peace with
yourself."
            "Thank you," I replied, finding his touch unexpectedly calming.
"You've been very kind."
            He looked strangely sad at that, but smiled. "Not at all. Take
care, Mai."

 
            That night as I slept I thought I heard his voice, and others.
            "I told you that this kind of experimentation is experiencing a
higher failure rate as time goes on. Perhaps you should take this as a step
forward. The mind has very strong associations with sex and gender that perhaps
cannot be completely overridden by your programming, no matter how complete it
may be."
            "We have discussed this before in the past, doctor, and we have
concluded that it is not relevant to our research." The second voice was cold
as ice, and it made me feel more than a little uneasy. I tried to move, to wake
up, but the darkness held firm. "We will need to reset their experiment
completely."
            "The female has not remembered. You can replace the other with only
a minimum of work. These are the changes you'd have to make."
            There was silence for a time, then another voice, just as cold as
the second. "We are pleased with your work, Doctor. There needs be no change in
the experiment. You can make these changes immediately, yes?"
            "Immediately, Mr. Hand."
            "Very well. Carry on."
            For a time there was silence, and I'd almost drifted back to sleep
completely when I felt a touch to my forehead, soft and gentle. There was a
soft sigh, and then I heard his voice again. "I am very sorry about, this, Mai.
It is better this way. And you will be at peace with yourself, I guarantee you
that."
            There was a sharp pain between my eyes suddenly, and images
scrolled across my mind.
            Being a young girl, looking over the edge of a boat and into the
lake, my blonde curls shining in the sun. Moving to the city, going to school,
growing up. Discovering clubs, discovering that I can make boys buy me drinks
if I smile just so, if I look up at them through my eyelashes. Moving away from
home as soon as I am old enough to do so, going out every night. Meeting Cindy,
learning how to make boys buy me much more than drinks. The best of both
worlds, Cindy says to me. Wild sex and expensive presents. Not prostitution, of
course, as it's long been illegal to take sex for money. But gifts are
innocent, and if you date a man one night who gives you a necklace and you sell
it after you break up the next day, well... that's simply coincidence, isn't
it?
            I know where I live, how I like to dress, what I like to eat. My
name. May.
            I've always been May. What strange dreams I've had. They scatter
away like ash, unimportant.
            I turned over in bed, curling up to the man at my side, and slept
on.

***
***** Ben and Larry *****
Ben Carson

            I quickly discovered that having sex with Larry - no, being in a
relationship with Larry - was the craziest, sexiest, most fulfilling and most
adventurous thing I'd ever done in my life. And that was without even bringing
in the whole shape-shifting thing. It was just the way he was: completely open
and willing to try just about anything I'd ever thought about.
            We'd talked, the first time I'd woken with him in my arms.
Apparently he'd slept with my brother, which was an interesting thought, and I
found I didn't mind it as much as I thought I should. I was truthfully more
concerned about Daniel, but apparently they'd discussed the topic of me the
last time Daniel had come while waiting for me to get out of the shower. Daniel
had taken one look at Larry as a girl and called him on the whole scheme. Then
he'd smiled, stroked a hand through Larry's hair as he'd pressed a kiss to her
forehead, and told him that he'd be a fool if he didn't go after me. And that
he'd kill him if he hurt me. And that Larry should really try things out as
himself before going through every woman of the rainbow, and in hindsight, he
really should have just listened to Daniel.
            Larry was adorable during the whole telling, and when he was done I
leaned in to kiss him, warm and possessive. "You're here now. That's all that
matters, isn't it?"
            We didn't left the house for two days - four cycles - after that.
Two completely decadent, carnal, luscious and fulfilling days. When we finally
did leave the house it had more to do with the fact that the food replicator
was shit at creating beer. Larry dragged me into the video store as well, where
we discovered the back room, and between that and the beer, well... there was
another couple days gone.
            "You're going to kill me, you realize," I breathed in his ear as I
rocked up into him, one foot on the couch that he knelt on, leaning over to
brace himself on the back.
            "You'll take me with you," he groaned in reply, grinding back
against me, pushing me deeper. "Fuck, I'm such a slut for your cock."
            I couldn't help but chuckle despite the surge of arousal his words
sent through me, bucking up hard into him. "You are," I growled, nipping at his
ear, slipping a hand around his waist to curl my fingers around the straining
shaft of his erection, slick from the arousal leaking from its tip. I started
to stroke him slowly in time with my thrusts, satisfied in the little choked
groan it pulled from his lips. "And completely, entirely mine."
            "Always," he breathed, and rocked back onto my cock.
            Curled together on the couch afterward, sated and content, I
wrapped my arms around him and nuzzled his hair, only pulling away long enough
to turn off what was still playing on the TV. "I'm glad it was you," I
murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple.
            Larry snuggled into me with a little contented sigh. "Me?"
            "Mmm. Here. If we have to be alone in this world... really glad
that it's us together."
            Larry raised his head to smile up at me, smile achingly sweet. He
stroked his fingers over the side of my face. "I'm in love with you, you know.”
            I nodded, still feeling a surge of warmth and joy wash over me at
the speaking. "I'm in love with you too," I replied, because it was true.


            Larry still went out as a girl every once and a while, though now
it was always the sporty little red haired girl he'd been the first time I
kissed him. He was cute that way, I had to admit. Striking in a non-traditional
way. We both figured I'd probably be less noticeable if I was seen with a
variety of companions, though there was one man in the apartment building that
we inevitably ran into on the way out that had taken to giving me funny looks.
Larry thought it was hilarious.
            "Would you be into it if I kept this body in bed tonight?" he asked
me once on the way home, a little eager smile teasing about the corner of her
mouth. "I just want to try it once for shits and giggles."
            I quirked an eyebrow. "Sex as a woman?"
            He shrugged. "You've never been curious? I've heard it's pretty
wild."
            I tried to figure out who the hell could have possibly.... "Daniel
was a woman when you had sex with him?"
            "What? Oh god no." That sent him into peals of laughter, loud and
good humoured. "No no no, I've never had sex with a woman. That's one thing I'm
pretty damn sure about. I'm sure he was talking about past experience. So what
do you think? There's some fun positions that are much easier to try with a
woman...."
            "You mean we haven't done them all already?" I teased him,
following him into the apartment and stealing a warm kiss.
            "Surprisingly." Larry returned my kiss with a little appreciative
moan. "What do you say? I'll even leave my boots on."
            Today's flavour of boot were thigh high PVC with laces all the way
up the back that revealed a decadent amount of bare skin. I chuckled, smoothing
my hands up the back of her thighs, teasing the bare skin between the laces,
then moving up under the mini skirt to cup her ass. "I feel like I'm cheating
on you with you."
            That earned another warm, delighted laugh, and Larry pushed me back
against the door, hooking one thigh up over my hip as we kissed. "God, I love
you."


            It was a few weeks before we decided to go back to the club again.
We'd checked out a few others, and even a couple of gay bars, but I'd really
liked the live music we'd heard at the first. I wore the shades this time in
lieu of makeup, and Larry produced a similar pair, actually going out as
himself. When we got inside the door, though, something had changed. The music
itself was somehow different, and as we headed to the bar, Larry stopped short.
            "I know him."
            The words were soft, barely heard over the music. I tightened my
arm around his waist and followed his gaze over the crowd. The female singer
that stood on the platform in the middle of the dance floor was the same,
though this time she was wearing a black Lycra and gauze dress with a keyhole
cut-out on the chest, and the LED piping in her dreads cycled from green to
blue to purple and back again. The man that stood behind her was different,
though. He was taller than the blond I remembered, with dark curly hair and
delicate features - handsome rather than cute. He wore pants that were trimmed
in the same peacock colour LED's and some kind of vinyl belted cummerbund that
came up to his ribcage. His chest was bare, shoulders and arms covered with a
bolero top that ended in the same bracers the blond had worn. "The synth player
is different. Shame, the blond was kinda cute. He's a pretty fellow though. You
know him?"
            "I... knew him," Larry replied, a little wistfully. "Different
identity though. We had a friendly affair. Was kind of a shock when he
changed."
            "You want to head someplace else?" I offered, and he nodded,
heading for the back exit of the club with his hand in mine. Once we were
outside the club I found myself pressed against the wall, Larry's mouth
catching mine hungrily, body pressed close.
            "Don't leave me," he murmured, and I drew him close, wrapping my
arms around tightly.
            "I don't just love you because you're the only one around," I
replied, nuzzling his jaw. "You're adorable. You make me happy when I never
thought I could be again. I won't leave you, Lar."
            Larry pulled back to give me a soft, trembling smile. "Thank you."
            I cupped his cheek gently, trying to comfort him with the warmth of
my touch. The sensible part of me knew that there'd be no way for anyone to
tell if my words were true; realistically, all we had was each other. But it
wasn't what my heart felt. I couldn't explain why, but this wasn't just
circumstance. "You want to just go home and relax?"
            He nodded, and leaned into me as we walked home in companionable
silence.
            Back in the apartment I took charge, drawing him to me for gentle
kisses, tugging his clothes undone and worshiping the skin that was bared to
the lamplight in the bedroom. For once Larry seemed content to simply enjoy
being spoiled, arching into my touch and kisses with soft, appreciative moans
of pleasure. I lavished his cock with laps of my tongue, teasing and pleasuring
him, revelling in the taste of his arousal, the way it felt to take him in my
mouth, feeling the head of his cock nudge the back of my throat as my lips slid
down his shaft. I continued to pleasure him until he was reduced to helpless
gasps for more sensation, and when we finally coupled it was with him on his
back with his legs wrapped high around my waist, pulling me down for breathless
kisses, crying out into my mouth when he reached his peak.
            "Don't know if I could have kept on if you hadn't come here," he
murmured as we curled together afterward. I kept stroking my fingers through
the waves of his red hair, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
            "I'll always be here," I replied gently, and kept stroking until I
felt his breath lengthen, body lax and warm with sleep, which I quickly found
as well.


             My dream is full of sunlight streaming through tall trees full of
green leaves. Real daylight. Warmth. Spring. Larry walks beside me, talking and
joking with me, much younger than he is now, red hair short and spiky. He's
beautiful. He follows me up the walk of an old colonial style house, across the
veranda through the front door.
            Daniel is sitting at the kitchen, surrounded by papers and books,
eyebrows knit in concentration. I slip my fingers into his hair to ruffle it
affectionately. "Relax, liebling. You're too serious."
            "I have to write my thesis for the Harvard application," he replies
with a frown, ducking out from under my fingers. I just shake my head.
            "Haven't you ever wondered if you're rushing through life? Most
guys your age are writing their middle school exams. But next semester my math
teacher is going to be judging me based on having had my younger brother in her
class the year before." I laugh - more than anything I feel proud of Daniel. I
adore him, but I'd never choose his path.
            "I think I can skip the underage drinking parties of high school,"
Daniel replies to me with a teasing smile, patting my hand before returning to
his book.
            I chuckle softly. "We'll be upstairs studying."
            "I'm sure you will," Daniel replies, his carefully neutral tone
betrayed by a barely held back laugh on the last word.
            I can't resist the opportunity to get my own dig in. "Like you were
studying with that John boy yesterday?"
            He chokes, and to my satisfaction a flush spreads across his face,
starting from the tips of his ears. "He asked for help with math problems."
            "One plus one equals two?" Larry asked with a grin, waggling his
eyebrows.
            "Oh - go study!" Daniel snaps, still adorably flustered. "Just
please make something for supper before Dad tries to?"
            "I promise," I reply, and grab Larry's hand, towing him up the
stairs to my room. At least there's no need to pretend in front of Daniel.
            Larry and I almost never study. I'm possibly allergic to it,
regardless of my mother's pleas to 'apply myself and be more like Daniel'.
Perhaps because of them. Even if I don't share my brother's genius I'm not
stupid; far from it. I've always been the dangerous kind of adept that gets by
easily, so it's difficult to make myself apply myself to things I don't really
care for. Secretly I want to be a cop, and Larry and I plan to apply to the
academy the day after graduation. I haven't told my parents yet. Considering
what they've paid to put me through the same ridiculously expensive private
prep school Daniel's enrolled in, I don't think they'll be too happy about
ditching out on collage, no matter how I can further my academics with the
NYPD.
            Instead of studying, I lock my bedroom door behind us and pull
Larry close for a heated kiss.
            Few people know this about us. It's easier that way. His mother
knows, who lives up in Toronto with another woman, but not his father or
stepmother. Daniel knows, and Daniel's friend John, who walked in on us once. 
Frank, an older friend of ours that did track and hockey with us, now two years
into the police academy. Larry and I are horrible flirts with the girls at our
private school's sister school, and have been on more double dates than I can
count, but part of me wants to say fuck it and take him as my date to prom.
            "I love you," I whisper, tugging him down to my bed with me, hands
slipping up under the hem of his t-shirt to touch the bare skin I've craved all
day. I know Larry's body almost better than I do my own, know just how to touch
and tease and arouse him, but no matter how many times we kiss, no matter how
often I indulge in the taste of his skin and map his body with my hands and
lips and tongue I can never get enough of him.
            "Love you, Ben..." his reply is a soft sigh against my mouth,
already tugging my t-shirt up and off over my head. Sometimes we'll continue
just like this, kiss for hours, half clothed on my bed, bodies rocking together
in an agonizing but unhurried build of pleasure. It's nice, sometimes, just to
enjoy the afternoon like that, teasing each other with our hands and the
incessant grind of hips, clothed erections pressed against each other, batting
away Daniel's cat when she walks over us.
            Sometimes our clothes will hardly survive their removal and our
kisses will be frantic, leaving kiss bruises on each other's shoulders and
chests where they'll be hidden by clothes. I'll hardly have time to roll on a
condom (Larry's mother is a much thanked enabler when it comes to safe sex,
we've found) before he's on me, slicking my cock with lube and rocking onto me,
hands braced on my chest as he rides me hard.
            Today is a more languid day, and clothes fall away until we're
sprawled across my double bed naked, stroking each other to hardness as we
trade slow, yearning kisses. I twist, and lean down on one elbow to take him in
my mouth, moaning around him as he continues to stroke me, his free hand
tangling in my hair to encourage more. Larry leans back to grab a bottle of
lube from its hiding place inside a sock in my bedside drawer, drizzling some
over my cock, his thumb tracing circles over the head as his fingers smooth up
and down my shaft, slick and wet. I stroke the base of his cock with one hand
as I lavish attention on the head, tracing the ridges, sucking on the underside
where it's most sensitive. I tease it with my tongue before my lips part for
his cock, sliding down around him. I draw on him, sucking hard for a moment
just to hear him gasp and curse softly, then return to my slow bob, revelling
in the weight and hardness of his cock against my tongue.
            "Don't think you get to have all the fun." He urges me back, then
leans down to draw a thick stripe up the underside of my cock with this tongue,
groaning around me as he takes me in his mouth. I close my eyes and revel in it
for a moment, and then claim the lube where he's dropped it on the bed, pouring
some on my fingers and stroking it over his cock. Pina Colada - must have been
the blue sock. I stroke it up the length of his cock, wet and shining with lube
and my saliva, then cup his balls lightly, rolling them in my fingers, slicking
them as well. I twist a little more, bending to lick at them, sucking them into
my mouth one at a time. I stroke the soft skin behind them, rubbing gently, and
Larry pulls back from me with a low groan. "Jesus, Ben."
            I chuckle around him, stroking slowly up and down the length of his
shaft, loving the way he has to fight back soft whimpers of pleasure. "Love
torturing you," I murmur, teasing the base of his cock with a slow drag of my
teeth, which causes a whimper that he can't hold back.
            "Why don't you get up here and put your money where your mouth is,
then?" Larry pulls away and lays back against the pillows, skin pale against
dark blue sheets, dusted with freckles that I love to stroke and kiss. He'll
have more in summer, when we spend our days outside in the sun. I sit up and
watch him with a little smile, pouring more lube on my fingers and stroking
them over and between his thighs, watching him close his eyes with a soft sigh
of pleasure, arching up into my touch. This is different from fucking, but
sometimes nicer, sometimes more intimate. We'd started out like this before he
became more daring, before I saw how much pleasure he took from penetration and
gave it a try myself.
            "Love how dirty you are," I murmured, laying over him and catching
his mouth as I push my cock between his thighs.
            Larry is all lean muscle, toned from hockey in the winter, track in
the summer. Endurance running, and he's good at it; I stick to stuff like
hurdles and shot-put where it doesn't matter that I'm a short little shit. I
love the surge of his strength underneath me as we rock together, the slide of
his cock against my abs. Larry groans and grinds up against me as my cock
slides against the slick underside of his balls, against the soft skin behind,
shivering at the pleasure it brings him. He nips at my lips, breath hot against
my mouth, hands sliding down to clench at my ass and pull me closer. This is
what's best about having sex like this - being so close to him, drinking in
kisses as I thrust against him again and again, nothing between his skin and
mine. I kiss and nip at his beautiful, cock-sucking lips, biting at the bottom
one and tugging on it playfully just to hear him groan. "Wanna switch?"
            "Mmhmm." Larry grins and flips me, kissing me hard as his hands
stroke between my thighs, slicking my skin, cupping my balls and stroking
through the nest of ashen curls at the base of my cock. "Let’s do this
forever."
            I groan as his cock presses between my thighs, squeezing them
together, and he bites back a choked cry, thrusting harder against me. The drag
of his cock against my skin is intense and intoxicating, making my nerves sing
with pleasure, and I pull him down into my kisses, rocking with him and
thrusting up against his abs. Everything around me fades to gray, everything
but the intensity of sensation between us, his cock between my thighs, his
kisses, his breath, his voice. "Never gonna stop," I murmur in reply, tangling
one hand in his hair. "Need you, need this. Always. Oh fuck, Larry...!"
            It ends with our bodies crushed together, laying on our sides with
my shoulder in the crook of his arm, his mouth devouring mine as we wrap our
fingers around each other's cocks. Everything is wet and slick and messy and so
fucking good, and I jerk him in slow pulls that gradually quicken. I keep time
with him until he pulses in my grip and comes, spurting slick in my fingers and
up on my stomach and chest. I follow before I can stop myself, too turned on by
the feel of his climax, by his fingers working my cock so expertly, jerking
every last shudder of sensation from me.
            "Love you," he whispers again, and I kiss him, soft and breathless,
as we both slowly come down from the high of our union.
            "Love you," I murmur in reply, smiling against his mouth, nuzzling
along his jaw. There's nothing in the world more perfect than this, and it
occurs to me that I don't really care about school or what we do afterward, as
long as I can be with him.
            "I want to take you to prom," I murmur in his ear, and he chuckles,
squeezing me tight.
            "Anything you like, handsome. Whatever you like."

***

***** May Jensen *****
May Jensen

            "I have a work function to attend this time next week, and I need a
girlfriend. What's your schedule like?"
            I set down my cup of coffee and smiled across the table in my
apartment at the man who sat there, completely comfortable in his nudity. "You
know I don't do work functions, Greg."
            "I need a stunner, May. No one can impress like you can. I'll buy
the dress and the jewellery. Authentic stuff, you can keep it. My gift. And
I'll send you enough reading material for you to work your magic."
            I did indeed do work functions, but I made sure they were few and
far between... it was one thing to have my game known around the clubs, but I'd
be completely worthless for functions if some hoity-toity exec recognized me
from the arm of a different social climber the week before. So it was a very
occasional gig, and very high priced. I leaned forward, letting my red silk
robe fall open a little more. "Honey, I don't let anyone else pick my clothes.
And for your calibre of gathering... you know I'll need more than just a new
dress and some sparkles."
            For a moment he contemplated me, then sighed and stood. Crossing to
the chair his pants were flung over the night before, he pulled out his wallet
and took out a nondescript, black card. The best kind. He sat back down at the
table and held it out to me, but I made no move to take it, giving him a little
teasing smile as I looked up at him. "I haven't seen that colour before. What's
that for, sweetheart?"
            "You know what it's for," he replied calmly, holding my gaze.
"There is a hundred dai limit, so you can't buy yourself a new apartment on it.
But you can max it out."
            "That's very generous of you," I returned, still making no effort
to take the card.
            "Well, if this even goes well I'll have two more in the next month.
I'll buy you new dresses to do those ones too."
            "If you're asking for exclusivity...."
            Greg shook his head. "Just the events and our normal Mondays and
Thursdays." I watched his eyes trail down my throat and over the tops of my
breasts. "And another go now."
            "Deal." I took the card from him and tucked it into my purse on the
table. Greg had been a steady client for a while, so I didn't mind. It would be
simple enough for him to get a girlfriend, but not a lot of girlfriends would
be able to give him the no-strings-attached kink I'm willing to give to him.
"The whip, or...."
            "Bathtub," he replied hoarsely, and I smiled despite the distaste
it brought me. Thankfully I hadn't emptied my bladder yet that morning. I could
hide my disgust well enough to get him off. I stood, letting my robe fall open,
rounding the table to place one booted foot on the edge of his chair between
his thighs. I nudged the toe up against his cock carefully, already half hard.
            "What do you say?"
            "Please, Mistress May."
            "Good. Get on your hands and knees and crawl into the bathroom. Get
into my tub and wait for me." I watched him crawl off quickly, then crossed to
the bar and poured myself a large splash of whiskey, shooting it back.
            Ah well. A job was a job.


            It was later that night that I first saw her. I'd slipped into a
club that I hadn't visited yet, near the end of the second half. It was more
just to check it out than to try and find a date, and I was dressed fairly
demurely, in a knee-length red slip dress and matching heels with satin ribbons
that laced up my calves. This club boasted live entertainment and was known for
it, a synth artist and his wife, the singer, who performed live five times a
week. I slipped out onto the dance floor without paying much attention to
anything in particular, just absorbing the feel of the club, letting the throb
of the music move through me. The singer’s voice was beautiful, low and
sensual, curling around me into a throb of desire between my thighs. This would
be a good place to find dates.
            I let myself move to the music and turned my attention to the stage
platform in the middle of the floor, curious about the artists, but when I
brought my gaze to the singer, everything in the world seemed to fade away. Her
eyes, the curve of her hips, the way her lips caressed every word.... I knew
this woman!
            Emma, my heart said, and I could feel the press of her lips to
mine, the softness of her skin. I could remember what she looked like spread
out beneath me, flushed with arousal, drawing me down to her softness. It was
vivid and real, but at the same time... how could it be? I didn't do women,
they generally weren’t willing to pay well enough. How was I remembering being
with her?
            It took me a moment to realize that I'd stopped dead in the middle
of the dance floor and that she had as well, staring at me with lips parted,
still in front of the microphone. Her eyebrows knit together a little - even
that, I knew! - but before she could say anything more a touch on her shoulder
from the other performer brought her attention back to the music, and she began
to sing again. Still she watched me, and all I could do was tuck myself up
against a pillar, watching her, trying to understand the most intense sense of
longing I'd ever felt.
            It turned out to be their last number, and the synth player thanked
the audience, the platform they stood on descending into the floor and out of
sight. I held her gaze until the churn of bodies blocked her from me, and with
a heavy heart, made my way slowly out the back door of the club. My thoughts
spun around in my head, and I hardly knew what to do with myself. I needed her.
I had to see her. But how? She was a performer, well known, rich. Respected. So
far out of my world....
            "May!"
            I'd just stepped out of the door when I heard her voice, and turned
to find her standing alone in an open door half way down the alley, her dark
hair and pale skin thrown into sharp contrast in the light of the alleyway. I
didn't think, just ran, catching her up in my arms and pressing my mouth to
hers, trembling, kissing her again and again. "Emma. Oh god, Emma."
            Her fingers dug painfully into my back, and she returned my kisses
with just as much desperation, giving a choked sob against my mouth before
pulling back. "I have to go. My husband... how do I find you?"
            I always carried calling cards with me, thin black vinyl bracelets
around my wrists that each contained a tiny chip with my contact information. I
slipped one around her arm to join the dozens of silver bangles. "My address."
            She was trembling, as was I, and I pulled her tight against me
again, pressing my face to her hair. I couldn't understand this - none of it
made any sense. But I needed her. I couldn't deny that.
            "I'll come," she whispered, then pulled away from me and was gone.


            I went home, undressed, and for a long time just stood in my
shower, letting the water cascade hot through my hair and over my body. I'd
ignored the main bedroom in my apartment, the main bath - the secondary one was
mine and mine alone, soft and comfortable and real, with nothing of my dates or
my clients to remind me of the life I'd lead. Finally I stepped out of the
shower, standing underneath the dryer for a few moments, then pulling on a
housecoat - white lace with a thick satin tie. Classic, beautiful. Try as I
might, I couldn't bring my own memories in line with what had come back to me
in the club when I'd seen her face. Maybe I'd just imagined the whole thing.
Maybe she hadn't even been there at all.
            The knock that came on my front door was so soft that I almost
missed it. I crossed the apartment, heart pounding, and it barely took a glance
through the peephole for me to recognize her and throw open the door. "Emma!"
            The club wear was gone, and the lion's mane of extensions in her
hair, and underneath her long dark coat she wore a simple white blouse and
slacks. I didn't care. She was my Emma. I pulled her inside and barely took the
time to turn the lock on the door before wrapping my arms around her again,
catching her mouth with mine. Emma's fingers tangled in my curls with a soft
whimper, her mouth warm and lush and wanton, tearing kisses from me, tasting me
desperately. "May. My love. My May. God...."
            Talking wasn't important in that moment, nothing was more important
than getting as close to Emma as possible. I pulled her into my bedroom, my
real bedroom, down into the white cotton softness of my bed. Her fingers found
the tie of my robe, pulling it open, and it wasn't much harder for me to tug
open the buttons on her blouse, pulling it off her shoulders and undoing the
clasp of her bra as we kissed. I knew how to touch her, arouse her, pressing my
lips to her breasts, sucking and kneading at their softness, nipping just hard
enough to make her gasp and shudder underneath me. I knew the sound of her
moans before I drew them from her throat, the way her lips formed my name.
"May. Oh god, please, please...."
            I knew the taste of her, how to crook my fingers up inside her just
so to make her buck and clench around them as I sucked on her clit, I knew how
to make her come completely undone with my mouth and my hands. As she pushed me
back onto my back, kissing up the inside of my thigh, I realized from the first
flick of her tongue that she knew me too....
            "What does this all mean?" She asked me softly as we curled
together afterward, warm and exhausted in the aftermath of pleasure. "When did
we meet, how do I know you? I've never been with a woman before, I've been with
my husband for five years, but I... I remember you."
            "I know," I replied, letting my forehead rest against hers, fingers
stroking along her cheekbone, smoothing an errant dreadlock back from her face.
"I remember you, too. I wish I could answer your questions."
            Emma let out a shivering sigh, curling closer to me. "Sometimes the
world doesn't quite feel real. I think back over my life and it feels like I'm
just living in someone else's nightmare. I don't remember why I made the
choices I did to end up here. Then tonight I saw you, and for the first time
ever something felt real."
            Her words struck a kind of dark resonance with me, and I shivered
as well. "Like you're just going through the motions day after day because it's
what you're supposed to do."
            "Yes." Emma's arms tightened around me, almost painfully, but then
she pulled back, sitting up in bed, her face mournful. "I have to go. My
husband..."
            "You're really married?"
            She glanced down. "I suppose I am. I remember meeting him. I
remember falling in love. But everything's so...." she paused, and shook her
head. "Even my memories don't make sense. I'm so sorry, May."
            "I'm a prostitute," I said softly, pushing myself up in bed as
well. "A socialite. An escort. Whatever pretty name you want to call it. I fuck
men for money." Bile rose in my throat as I thought about it, and I had to
choke it down. "I don't know why, I just.... Oh god, Emma. I'm so sorry. Oh
god...."
            "Shhh...." Emma's hands were gentle as they cupped my face, her
lips soft on my forehead, my nose, my lips. "It's all right, love. It's all
right. I'll always love you. No matter what."
            "Come see me again," I whispered, pressing closer.
            "Tomorrow," she agreed, returning my embrace. "Same time. I
promise. Don't come to the club, I - I don't know if I can control myself
around you."
            "I'll wait here for you," I replied, burying my face in her hair.
"I promise."
 
***
 
 
Ben Carson

            It didn't bother me that I was almost completely dependent on
Larry. I suppose I could have gotten by on my own as long as I had access to
the apartment - in this society, basic needs were all met without cost, and
while I may not have had much in the way of clothes the food replicator would
have kept me alive. Larry's abilities allowed us to have a life - new clothes,
the cash to buy things with. My wallet was always full, but it was a little
disappointing that I couldn't really take care of him the way he had of me....
            It occurred to me that there had to be some kind of black market in
the city - no civilization could be without corruption. And in my heart I was
still a cop. I could judge people, and all it took was a few asked questions in
bars and a few greased palms to find out what I needed to know.
            "I'm going back out," I announced one day when we'd come home from
dinner. "I won't be too long. Will you wait here for me?"
            "Wait here?" Larry looked a little taken back, and smiled at me
curiously. "You don't want me to come with you?"
            "If you did it would spoil the surprise," I returned, returning his
grin. "Just trust me."
            "All right. Do you need cash?"
            "I have what I need." I leaned in to kiss him, warm and lingering.
"Just relax, handsome. I'll be back soon."
            "All right," he replied with a grin. "Just remember that if you
pick someone up you have to bring them home to share."
            I laughed at that, leaning in to nip at his earlobe. "Everyone else
I see pales in comparison to you," I replied, kissing his jaw before
straightening. I grabbed my sunglasses from the shelf by the door, pulling on a
dark jacket and heading out.
            I took the sky train this time, watching the neon lights of the
city speed by the windows. It was faster and more discreet than a cab. Reaching
the station I needed, I headed down the stairs and into one of the darker areas
of the city, where things were still run with gasoline motors. I paused in my
thinking and gave a soft laugh. Even knowing the truth about the city, it was
easy to believe the falsehood - believe that these buildings had been here for
decades, that situations had slowly evolved instead of being programmed mere
weeks ago.
            I stayed clear of other people as I made my way down the street,
hands in the pocket of my coat, with one on the tazer-like device that had
replaced pistols. Non lethal, but I'd rather not have to use it. It wasn't that
the area was dangerous, but there were stim-junkies here, and the kind of
prostitutes that didn't bother to hide their intentions standing under the neon
street lights. A block ahead of me a hover car dipped down to stop at the curb,
and after a moment the tramped up young man that had been standing on the
sidewalk disappeared inside.
            I found the shop I was looking for with little trouble, and the
woman behind the desk smiled at me with bubblegum pink lips. "Hey sweetie. You
here to sell some presents?"
            That was how the rich prostituted themselves. I smiled and
shrugged, taking a package out of the inside of my coat. "Not much use for
keeping them when the girl's moved on to the next guy, is there?"
            "However you want to play it, cutie." She set a velvet lined tray
on the counter, and I set out the items: a pair of diamond studded cufflinks, a
gold chain, a gold watch set with diamonds on the face, a ring to match the
cuff links. "Mm, I haven't seen the style before. It's nice. Is it new?"
            "I think it's imported," I replied, watching as she slid each item
separately under a scanner, which spat out authenticity certificates for each.
We settled on a price, and I headed back to the station with a single-use
credit card in my pocket. She'd sell the items to a gift boutique, and some
other rich man or woman would buy them for a husband... or boyfriend-for-hire.
            When I left the train a second time, the area was as different as
could be from the last, full of well dressed people shopping with well trained
- or programmed - electronic pets at their heels. I ignored the sales people on
the street that tried to talk me into trying a new hair product or viewing the
latest line of men's clothing. I knew exactly where I was going.
            When I finally returned home it was with a large box under my arm,
and it was hard to resist the urge to whistle. I gave a nod to our suspicious
neighbour as I entered the building, but before I could reach the elevator he'd
stepped in front of me, backing me into the wall. "I'm going to need to see
your identification."
            I stared at him for a long moment. He was tall, even taller than
Larry, and well kept, with hints of silver in his dark hair. His blue-grey eyes
were hard as he looked down at me. "Excuse me?"
            A hand slipped into his breast pocket to pull out what was
unmistakably a police badge. "Identification. And tell me what's in that box."
            "It's a gift for a friend," I said slowly, reaching for my wallet
slowly. "Inspector... Bumstead, is it? You want to tell me what this is about?"
            "A gift for a friend, or a gift from a friend?" He took my wallet
from me, taking out my ID card and slipping it behind his badge, which turned
into a digital display. "What this is about, Mr. Carson, is that when I ran
your face through recognition a few days ago it didn't show up in our systems."
            "Is it your habit to do background checks on law abiding citizens?"
I returned, feeling annoyed at the invasion more than anything else.
            "On law abiding citizens? No. On possible prostitutes? Yes."
            I burst out laughing. "I'm a prostitute?"
            "You seem to bring a lot of dates back to this apartment building,
Mr. Carson."
            "I have many friends," I replied, biting back my laughter. "As for
dates, there's only two - my boyfriend and his sister. Last time I checked it
wasn't illegal to participate in a polyamorous lifestyle as long as I'm not
trying to marry both of them."
            "It doesn't explain why you aren't on the grid," he returned with a
frown, pulling out my identification. "This ID is fake."
            "It is," I replied, thinking quickly. "I'm here under protection,
they transferred me into this city because it had the least amount of ties to
the organization I testified against. Go into your restricted files and you'll
find the information, it's file number eight five three nine two." I took my ID
from his fingers at that and pushed past him. "Come back when you've done that
if you still have an issue with me, Inspector. Leave me be until then." It was
a bluff, just a lie designed to get him off my case for now. I'd have to try to
contact Daniel, to see if he could somehow cover for me - or at least move me
somewhere else.
            "I will," he shot back, not trying to keep the annoyance out of his
voice, and as the lift door closed I breathed a sigh of relief.
            I'd have to tell Larry about it, I realized as the lift stopped on
our floor. We'd have to get a hold of Daniel or find someplace else to stay
until we could. But it could wait until after....
            Larry was sprawled out on his stomach on the couch, reading a
viewing tablet. He set it aside as I came in, pushing himself up. "Hey
handsome. What's that?"
            "Something for you," I said, setting the box down on the coffee
table before returning to the closet to hang up my coat. "You're going to have
to put him together, though, it's a bad idea to have me play with electronics."
            "With... what?" The box was a plain white, and he peeled off the
tape on the sides to lift the lid, pulling aside the tissue paper that filled
the box. "Oh! Ben? How the hell did you....?"
            I smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his hair. "You like it?"
            Larry lifted the small dragon carefully from the foam pet bed it
was nestled up inside, eyes wide and wondering. I'd spent ages staring at the
displays before finally settling on this one, a bright silver with gunmetal
gray underbelly, his spines and the webbing on his wings a sleek black. I ran a
hand down the length of the dragon's body - the scales were soft and sleek like
snakeskin, his spines a little harder, like a flexible rubber. It was a little
smaller than a cat, but thankfully lighter. Larry looked up at me and grinned.
"Christ, Ben. He's gorgeous. Thank you. How do I turn him on?"
            I laughed and settled on the couch next to him. "No fucking clue,
but there's instructions in the packet taped to the inside of the box." I
curled back against the corner of the couch, watching with a smile as he set
the dragon carefully down on the table, pulling the packet off the lid.
            He looked over at me as he pulled out the instruction chip and
slipped it into the viewing tablet. "Ben, you didn't nearly have enough cash
for one of these."
            "No, but there's still pawn shops in this era. If you know how to
look for them. Might have to get you to make me some new cufflinks if we ever
go anywhere black tie again, though.
            Larry laughed and shook his head, leaning in to give me a warm
kiss. "Thank you. This is really sweet of you. You didn't have to, Ben."
            "I know," I replied, warm down to my toes from his smile. "But I
wanted to."
            Larry was already scrolling through the instructions on the viewing
tablet. "Congratulations on your purchase of our mini-pet - designed
specifically for customers with small living spaces who want to make a big
impression with a small friend." He chuckled a bit, still scrolling. "Mini-pets
utilize the latest in kinetic technology, generating their own renewable power
through movement."
            "Sounds like a watch," I observed, and Larry snickered.
            "Hush, you. He's much cuter than a watch." Larry flicked the screen
on the viewer. "Mini-pets are programmed with state of the art artificial
intelligence and have the ability to learn and mimic basic emotion such as
curiosity, loyalty and affection..." he frowned, flicking past a few more
screens. "Oh, here we go. The wide plate between the dragon's thighs will
rotate open with pressure applied to the sides to reveal the power switch as
well as an access port for installation of customized personality chips. Please
note that once the mini-pet is turned on it cannot be turned off again without
resetting all personality and learned traits. Please also note that the mini-
pet will imprint its owners into its facial recognition system immediately upon
powering up...." I watched him scroll through a few more pages, eyebrows
knitting together a little. "Hm. You might have to hang onto him when we go
out. He won't recognize me once I change."
            I frowned, immediately understanding the dilemma. "And if you
change now he won't recognize you at home...."
            A light knock came at the door before, and I jumped to my feet,
already heading to the bedroom. "Shit. If it's that suspicious guy from
downstairs I'm not here...."
            "What?" Larry shot me a confused look, heading for the door. "Who's
there?"
            "I'm looking for Francis," came the reply, and Larry grinned
wildly, opening the door immediately.
            "Daniel!"
            I came back out from the bedroom. "Francis?"
            "My middle name, apparently," Larry replied with a grin, ushering
Daniel inside. He was borrowing the same shell he had the last time I'd seen
him, a cute bookish fellow, tall and slender with wavy brown hair.
            "Sorry to bother you," he started softly, but I shook my head,
stepping forward to pull him into an embrace.
            "Completely the opposite," I replied, smiling as he relaxed against
me. "Always happy to see you well, liebling."
            "Daniel, could you do me a really, really big favour?" Larry was
grinning at us both when we broke apart.
            Daniel looked a little confused, but nodded slowly. "Ah... if it's
within my ability, of course...."
            "It's easy. I just need you to look like me for a bit so I can look
like girl me and we can imprint the dragon Ben bought me."
            Daniel glanced over towards the coffee table at Larry's gesture,
taking in the dragon that still lay curled up on its surface. "Ah, so you two
are nesting. I suppose it's much easier than children." He glanced over at
Larry with a little bemused smile. "I don't recommend staying female for more
than twenty four hours if you're having unprotected sex, by the way. The shells
can get pregnant."
            Larry paled, but I couldn't help but laugh, patting his back. "You
guys figure out the pet. I'll get the tea."
            It was undoubtedly unsettling to return to find my brother looking
like my boyfriend, but thankfully it didn't take long to complete the dragon's
start up process, and soon enough we were back to normal, sipping tea. Larry
was delighted with the pet, which made little chirping noises and liked to rub
it's head against him, reminding me more and more of a cat the more I watched
it. The purchase was more than worth it for the way that he smiled. "What
should we name you? You want something stereotypical like Draco?"
            The dragon had blue lit eyes - LED's or something of the sort, I
assumed, and at the name the eyes turned red. It lowered its head, shaking it
with a little angry growl, nostrils exhaling a puff of smoke.
            I chuckled softly and turned to Daniel, who had changed back to
looking the way he had the first time I'd met him, minus the device in his eye.
It brought my mind back unexpectedly to the dream I'd had of his younger self,
and I wondered if there'd been any truth in it. "How have you been, little
one?"
            Daniel hesitated, looking down at his tea. "It... was a rough day.
I didn't really have any reason to come here tonight, to tell you the truth. I
just... needed a friendly face."
            I slipped an arm around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his
hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"
            He sighed softly. "I lost a stray tonight. A woman I'd been
watching. I couldn't get a shell down to her pod in time to take her place, so
they... they killed her, the same as they've done to all the others. I just...
I thought I could save her."
            I felt him tremble in my embrace, and held him a little closer.
"I'm sure you did your best. You're single-handedly starting your very own
underground railroad, there's bound to be some kinks."
            "I know," he replied back, letting out a shuddering sigh. "I know,
I just... I'm so tired, mein Herz, and no matter what I do nothing will ever
change. They'll never get anywhere with these bloody fucking experiments
because they're too goddamn dense to see the answers that are right under their
noses, and the thought of continuing like this for another day is so
overwhelming sometimes, let alone for years - "
            "Shhh...." I shifted closer to wrap both arms around him, holding
him tight. "Shhh, liebling.  We'll be here whenever you need. Whenever it gets
too much."
            "I can't stay with you - " he started, voice rough, but I cut him
off before he could continue.
            "Hush. You can for now, can't you? You said they let you sleep
for... what, eight hours? What does it matter if you do that while you're
hooked into this shell? Stay here with Lar and I. Sleep here for a while. This
shell doesn't need to be anywhere any time soon, does it?"
            Daniel was quiet for a moment, then shook his head slowly. "You two
have been... I shouldn't intrude on your intimacy.”
            "We've been fucking like rabbits for almost two weeks?" I pressed
my lips to his hair with a soft chuckle. "I think we can survive a night
without sex. Is that why you haven't been around?"
            "One of the reasons," he admitted, pulling back with a slightly
embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry. I've tried not to eavesdrop, but I have to peek
in on you two every once and a while just to make sure you're all right...."
            "It's fine," I replied with a smile, re-filling his cup of tea.
"Truthfully I ran into a little bit of trouble tonight that I was rather hoping
you could help me with." I related my encounter with the officer, which set
them both laughing, especially at the accusation of prostitution, and my claim
of dating both Larry and his sister.
            "I can take care of it," Daniel assured me, still chuckling softly.
"It will be easy enough to make your fiction prove fact.”
            "Thank you," I replied, setting down my tea cup. "It's much
appreciated. You going to stay here for a while, liebling?"
            Daniel glanced over at Larry, who gave an encouraging nod. He
finished his tea as well, setting it down. "Thank you. I... I can stay for a
time."
            It wasn't difficult to fit a third person in the bed, and Larry and
I curled up on each side of Daniel, who fell asleep very quickly, his body soon
relaxing, losing the tight, tense posture he'd held since his arrival. I
reached over him in the semi-darkness to find Larry's shoulder, stroking gently
over the t-shirt he'd worn to bed, expressing with gentle touch my affection
and thanks. When I moved it back to rest comfortably on Daniel's shoulder he
found it with his own, twining his fingers with mine as we drifted off to
sleep.
            My dreams that night weren't of any specific circumstance. But they
were full of sunlight and warmth and the two of them, safe and happy.

***
***** Frank and Leon *****
Leon Husselbeck

            The weeks that went by after I'd managed to accidentally out myself
to my boss went by without incident. I harboured a vain hope that he hadn't
noticed my slip of the tongue, and Frank said nothing about it to me. He seemed
somehow even kinder than normal, though, and that was difficult for me. Whether
it was because I was upset or because of my revelation to him, he seemed to
take more time with me, find more reasons to keep me with him on crime scenes
or in his office. It seemed as though the touch between us that had before been
casual meant more; a hand on my shoulder as we spoke or left a crime scene
seemed to linger. Or was it just my imagination? Sometimes it took all my self
control not to just wrap my arms up around his neck and whisper to him how
badly I needed him.
            On good days I could deal with, set it aside and work beyond my
emotions. On bad days, days where I couldn't stop dreaming about the feel of
lips on mine, it was despairing. It would never happen, and I knew I had to
learn deal with standing day after day at the side of the man I wanted most.
            Maybe I'd chosen the wrong vocation.
            "Do you think this department is a good fit for me, sir?" The
question spilled from my mouth as I stood in his office near the end of shift,
fingers clenched on the stylus for the data board I'd been noting his
observations on for our latest case.
            Frank had leaned back in his chair as he'd looked over the details
of the case, and he sat up sharply at my words, setting down his viewing tablet
on the surface of his desk. For a moment he simply regarded me, eyebrows knit
in concern. "You're the brightest and most dedicated officer I've ever had
working under me, Husselbeck. I'm sorry if I don't recognize that more often."
He stood slowly, but remained at his desk. "Is it the job that's making you
unhappy?"
            I looked away, feeling my cheeks burn, and set the stylus down on
the ledge at the bottom of the data board. "No. No, it's not the job. You're
very kind to me, sir. I appreciate very much the opportunities you've given me.
I'm sorry I haven't been myself lately."
            "Perhaps we've both been a little preoccupied," he replied, still
watching me. "For my part... I'm sorry."
            I bit my lip, feeling a wave of guilt wash through me. None of this
was his fault. "You have nothing to be sorry for, sir."
            Frank shook his head. "No. There's something I should have done
some time ago, and I haven't. It's just... difficult," he said slowly, eyes
still fixed on his desk, "to decide whether to adhere to protocol, or to listen
to one's heart."
            The turn to the conversation was completely unexpected, and I
stared at him for a moment in confusion. What did he mean? He couldn't possibly
know how I felt about him... could he? "I suppose it would depend on what one's
heart was telling one to do," I said carefully. "If it's worth breaking
protocol."
            Frank gave a firm little nod. "I hope you'll forgive me for this,
then." He stepped closer to me, bringing up one broad hand to cup my upper arm
as blue-gray eyes met mine. "I want you to know that I'm not asking this as
your boss, and whatever your response is, it won't change things at work, I
guarantee it. So please answer me as truthfully as you would any other man."
            His hand was warm through the thin fabric of my uniform. Familiar.
I felt like I could hardly breathe. His words curled around me, so completely
unexpected, but.... "Sir?"
            Frank let out a long breath, then leaned in close, his breath warm
on my ear. "Whoever it was that broke your heart... he doesn't deserve you,
Leon. I'd like to try and mend it, if you'll let me."
            For a long moment I couldn't move, couldn't speak. I closed my eyes
and replayed his words in my mind, feeling my cheeks heat up. He couldn't
possibly mean....
            Frank pulled back, a little awkwardly, at my lack of response. He
cleared his throat as he glanced away. "I'm sorry. That was... inappropriate. I
- "
            "Frank." His name on my lips was unexpectedly rough, and he turned
back to me at my words, surprise clear in his expression. At the lack of
knowing what else to do, I slipped my arms up around his neck and held on
tight, burying my face in his shoulder, trembling. "Sir...."
            After a moment Frank's arms wrapped around me in return, stroking
my back, warm and strong. "... Leon?"
            "I've always wanted you." The words came in a rush, and I pressed
my face to the smooth fabric of his suit, still half afraid to look at him, not
quite believing this was actually happening. "I've only ever wanted you, sir."
            I felt his face press to my hair, breath warm against my skin. "Oh
god. I'm so sorry. I've been so blind. Oh, my sweet boy...."
            The words were so heartfelt, completely what I'd been longing for,
aching for so badly all this time. I choked back a soft moan and tried not to
let the emotion overwhelm me, pulling back just enough to look up at him. "Can
we really do this?"
            Frank gave a slow nod, his eyes soft and warm, bringing one hand up
to cup my cheek gently. I closed my eyes for a moment, shivering at the warmth
and tenderness of his touch and leaning into it a little more. "If you want to
stay here we'll have to be discreet. It's far less than you deserve. If you
want to transfer - "
            "I want to stay here," I said before he could continue. "No one has
to know about this but us. I still want to work under you, please."
            Frank's eyebrow knit together a little, but he nodded. "Let’s get
out of this office, then. Come home with me for coffee. We can discuss it more
then."
            "Yes, sir."
            Frank caught my hand as he pulled back, though, lifting it and
pressing his lips to the back of my fingers. "You're beautiful, you know." I
felt my face heat up, but he merely smiled, squeezing my hand gently and
releasing it, turning back to your desk and punching in the numbers on the com
line to have his car readied in the garage. "Get the file data from forensics
if you will and meet me in the car park. We'll see if a change of scene helps
iron out the suspect's profile."
            Like your bed, I wanted to say, but bit back the words, nodding and
turning for the door. "Of course. I'll be right there, sir."
            "Leon - "
            Every part of me felt like it was made of nervous energy, a swarm
of butterflies crashing around inside my stomach. "Sir?"
            "It's Frank, when we're alone."
            I'm sure I flushed darker, and I nodded. "Of course. I'll be right
there, Frank."
            His smile was soft and warm, and it took me every inch of self
restraint to turn away from him and go do what he'd asked.
            When we were settled in his car, Frank programmed the coordinates
for home into the console and set it to auto pilot. I'd ridden in his car many
times for work, but this time felt different, charged with the energy of things
revealed. He reached over to place his hand over mine where it sat on the
armrest, warm and strong. "I am sorry, truly, for not acting before now, Leon.
Considering my age, I just didn't think...."
            "That I liked older men?" I twined my fingers with his boldly,
returning his gaze. "Sir, I find you so unbearably handsome, so dignified...."
At a quirk of his lips I caught myself, feeling a wave of heat in my cheeks
again, and glanced away. God, I might as well be eighteen again. "I'm sorry.
Frank."
            He chuckled softly, moving his hand from mine to brush my cheek
gently. "It's all right, Leon."
            I kept my gaze fixed on the dash, but leaned into his touch. "Guys
my age are all bravado, they're so crass, and thoughtless... you've been such a
gentleman to me, so gentle and wise.... I feel like I've wanted to be with you
since the moment I first saw you."
            "That long?" The surprise was genuine, and when I glanced back at
him his smile was a little wistful. "I suppose we both have much time to make
up for, then."
            With his car settled in an underground parkade, I followed him up
into the street level and into the apartment building. We passed a young couple
that were dressed for the clubs as we did, a red haired girl with a silver
dragon on her shoulder that was talking excitedly to the man that was with her,
his blond hair spiked and silvered. He cast us a worried look, but Frank didn't
spare him a glance as we made our way to the lifts. I caught his sleeve.
"Frank? You know those two?"
            He gave a little shake of his head, his hand warm on the small of
my back as he took me into the lift. "Was looking into one of them but he
checked out. Don't worry about it. I've been in this building for years but
it's quiet and easy to keep to yourself, not many people here know what I do
for a living."
            I'd put a jacket on over top of my uniform, but pulled it closed a
little more tightly. "I'll keep a change of clothes at work.”
            Frank smiled at my words. "We'll figure something out.”
            Frank's apartment was warm and simple and undoubtedly masculine,
and I felt at ease immediately. It was put together in a classical kind of
style rather than the stark modernism that was popular at the moment - dark
wood and paint that made the space comfortable and intimate. Frank took my
jacket and left me in the sitting room as he disappeared into the kitchen.
"Make yourself comfortable. I'll get the coffee this time."
            I chuckled softly, moving over to the coffee coloured leather
sectional couch that featured in the room, one side of it turning into a chaise
lounge. There was a large black case on the coffee table with its lid open, and
when I glanced into it I felt a thrill of surprise. The musical instrument
inside was beautiful, all mother of pearl inlay and lovingly worn ivory keys,
but it looked to be in perfect condition otherwise. "You have an accordion!"
            Frank stepped back out of the kitchen without coffee, equally
surprised. "You know what that is?"
            The question didn't offend me. Music was all done with synth these
days; it had fallen out of fashion years ago to be an actual musician. I smiled
and gave a little shrug. "My parents own a real baby grand, I took lessons
growing up. I've never seen one of these in person, though. It's beautiful. Is
it difficult to play?"
            Frank crossed the room, his fingers brushing the instrument with a
fond reverence. "Not that difficult. It's the same theory as a piano,
actually... melody on the keyboard with your right hand, accompaniment with the
left." Frank looked over to me with a little smile. "Would you like to try
her?"
            The thought was tantalizing. "I don't want to damage it...."
            Frank shook his head. "It's been kept in very good repair, there's
no chance of that. Here... sit on the corner of the chaise lounge. I'll show
you how to work it."
            I did as he asked, slipping my hands into the straps on each end to
hold it securely as he handed it to me and fastened the strap over one
shoulder, tightening it a little. Then he settled on the chaise behind me,
thighs on either side of mine, the pose so intimate that it completely
distracted me for a moment from what we were doing. Frank rested one hand
lightly on the side of my right thigh, the other resting below mine on the
instrument's left side, which held dozens of unfamiliar buttons. "You use these
to do your chords. The stone on the middle key here... feel that? That's your
major key of C, this row here. Easy to find when you're playing. Then you just
move down from there... root, major, minor, seventh, diminished.... you'll
really only use a few notes on the left hand in any one song. You can do it
rhythmically for some of the very old dance styles like polka... but it's
easiest to just start out with a sway."
            "A sway?"
            "Mmmm." Frank's left hand covered mine, warm and secure, guiding my
finger to the one beside the jewel and pressing down. At the same time he urged
me to pull open the bellows slowly, and the instrument sang a chord in a minor
key, low and rich and a little melancholy. I closed my eyes for a moment,
leaning back into him, revelling in the warmth and strength of his body behind
mine. He continued speaking as he pushed the bellows back in slowly, the
instrument silent. "Or if you want to play rhythmically you can switch chords
just like you would on a piano. You just position your fingers with the chord
progression you want rather than having to move to different keys." His fingers
guided each of mine to a different key, and then eased the bellows out slowly,
urging my fingers down to each key in rhythm, and the series of chords sounded
happier this time.
            "It shouldn't be difficult if you're used to piano... just a matter
of adjusting to the layout." He pulled his hand from mine. "Want to try and
play something on her?"
            "Let’s see...." I worked the bellows slowly for a moment, getting
used to the layout of the left hand side keys, listening to the sound of the
chords they produced. Then I let myself find more familiar patterns of notes on
the keyboard side, getting used to the movement of playing as I picked out a
melody. "... you became the light on the dark side of me... you remain... my
power, my pleasure, my pain. Baby, to me you're like a growing addiction that I
can't deny - " I stopped with a soft laugh. "It's different to get used to
playing. She's a beautiful sounding instrument, though. Almost like an old pipe
organ."
            Frank chuckled softly, tugging my hand from out of the strap on the
left side and slipping his own into place. "Keep playing."
            That was much easier, though it took a few moments to adjust to his
pull on the bellows and fall into the same rhythm. Frank's breath was a soft
caress against my ear, his voice low and warm. "But did you know, that when it
snows, my eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen..." his
lips brushed against the corner of my jaw, sending a shiver of pleasure through
me. "How do you know this song?"
            I stopped playing as he stopped working the bellows, leaning back
into him and turning my face towards his a little more, closing my eyes at his
gentle nuzzle. "I... suppose I must have learned it as a child... do you
remember the name?"
            He paused for a moment, then gave his head a little shake. "No. It
must be very old... my mother used to sing it, I just remember it being very
beautiful, all about love...." He moved the hand on my thigh to cup the side of
my face, pressing his lips gently to my jaw as he turned my face to his,
finally catching my mouth with a soft sigh, warm and yearning. I felt like I
could hardly breathe, yielding entirely to the soft caress of his lips, the
slide of his fingers up into my hair, the soft tease of his tongue against my
mouth. I curled back into him more, whimpering softly, wanting to melt into him
entirely, to hold tight to him and never let go.
            "Let me put her away," Frank murmured, and I pulled back
regretfully, turning and holding the instrument as he undid the shoulder strap,
taking the accordion from me and setting it carefully back in its case. Before
he could move again though I leaned closer, slipping my arms up around his neck
and claiming his lips with my own. Frank gave a soft, appreciative hum against
my mouth, hands stroking around my waist to pull me closer.
            Somehow I ended up stretched out along the sectional with him,
pulled down on top of him, still between his thighs. I couldn't get enough of
his kisses, yielding to his hunger and desire and returning it in kind,
groaning at the tease of his hands through my clothes as he stroked up and down
my back, broad hands cupping my ass, pulling me closer. It was everything I'd
dreamed of and yet so much more, because this was here and now and real. "I
want you," I breathed, and Frank gave a low groan into my mouth, hands
tightening on my ass.
            "Such a beautiful, exquisite young thing...." he nipped lightly at
my bottom lip, voice a little husky. "I'll give you whatever you want.
Everything you want, my Leon."
            I pulled back to look down at him, breathless, feeling overwhelmed
by the sweetness of his words and almost mindlessly aroused by the warmth of
his embrace. "Bed. Please. I need you."
            Grey eyes darkened, and he nodded, urging me to stand with him, one
arm tight around me as he lead me down the hall and into a bedroom that was
just as intimate and inviting as the rest of the apartment. Frank's touch and
kisses were gentle as he tugged away my uniform, helping me with his own
clothes, but rather than feeling exposed to him I felt strangely comfortable.
The strength of his body, the scent and taste of his skin... somehow it was so
familiar, and so very longed for. Frank's cock was thick and hard against my
stomach, bare skin warm against my own, and I arched closer to him, closer, but
still not enough.
            Frank kissed warmly down my throat, his fingers curling around my
cock, stroking me slowly, and I rocked forward against his palm, biting my lip
on a shivering moan. I knew Frank would be the perfect gentleman, take care of
me completely before even thinking of his own pleasure, but it wasn't what I
needed. I'd wanted this for too long. "Make love to me," I breathed, breath
catching on a groan as his thumb smoothed over the slick head of my cock. "Oh
god, Frank, please. Need you too badly."
            "There's no need to rush this," he replied, though the huskiness in
his voice betrayed more desire than patience, I was sure. I eased back to look
up at him, pressing my fingers to his lips.
            "We can take our time with things later, can't we? I've waited too
long for this."
            Frank kissed my fingertips, then nosed them away, claiming my mouth
in a harder kiss, almost desperate, his voice rough with need. "Me too."
            Settled on his bed on my knees and forearms, I tried to do
everything I could to make him lose control, groaning as his fingers breached
me, slick with lube, fucking me slowly to ready my body for him. I rocked back
against him, not making any attempt to hide my pleasure for modesty's sake. "Oh
god, yes. Feels so good, Frank, make me so hard for you. Oh fuck, please....
please more." The tease of his fingers against my sweet spot drew a shivering
cry from my lips, and I rolled my hips back onto his fingers, shuddering. "Fuck
me. Please, god, I need you inside me."
            "Hungry little boy." Frank leaned over me to murmur the words
against my mouth, easing his fingers from me and curling around me, the hard
length of his erection pressed between my ass cheeks. I let myself grind back
against him, whimpering, needing more sensation.
            "Yes. Always for you. Oh, please...."
            "Shhh..." Frank's lips pressed to the corner of my jaw, warm and
comforting. "Anything you want, Leon. Want you to feel so good...."
            I gave a little whimpered affirmative as he pulled back enough to
slick his cock, teasing me with the head, taking me with careful, slow thrusts
that let me adjust to his girth, my body shuddering as I stretched around his
cock. It ached a little - I'd been too impatient - but the feeling of fullness
as he rocked deeper into me was so good that I adjusted to it quickly enough,
rocking up against him. The slow slide of his cock inside me was so familiar,
the heat between us so intoxicating that I couldn't get enough of him. "Oh god
yes. Oh god, sir, feel so good inside me."
            "So perfect," he breathed, sounding almost as overwhelmed as I
felt. He started up a slow rhythm with me, rocking down to brush against my
sweet spot again and again as we moved together, somehow knowing so well how to
please me. All I could do was move with him, rocking up onto his cock as he
lavished kisses on my neck and shoulders, blanketing me with his body. "My
beautiful Leon. My sweet boy. Oh, Leon...." He nipped a little harder at the
crook of my neck, the sweetest tease of pain, and I bucked up against him a
little harder.
            "So fucking good," I gasped, rocking harder with him as he picked
up the tempo, breath hot against my skin. He shifted his weight over me a
little, slipping one hand around my waist to cup my balls, squeezing gently and
rolling them in his palm before finally starting to stroke my cock in time with
the buck of our bodies. It was too much, and I bit down hard on my bottom lip,
jerking up against him. "Oh god, sir - gonna make me come - !"
            "Let me feel you," he breathed, voice warm and rough with pleasure,
not slowing for a moment. "Come for me, love."
            I bit my bottom lip, nerves singing with pleasure, trying to hold
back, to savour this moment and this pleasure. I could hear him gasp a soft
curse as I tightened around him, bucking harder into me as I rode the
agonizingly sweet crest of passion, clinging to control until it all became too
much. My climax hit like a hammer, and I made no effort to hold back my
pleasure, my breath coming in choked cries as each thrust of his hips pushed
another shudder of pleasure through me, spurting slick in his fingers. I heard
Frank cry out against my skin, felt the heat between us grow as he came,
shuddering against me and emptying himself in erratic bucks inside me.
            "Don't pull away," I whispered as soon as I could find breath,
needing to revel in this, the warmth of his cock inside me as my body hummed in
the aftermath of orgasm, gasping for breath. "Oh god, Frank...."
            "Love you," he murmured against my mouth, voice low and soft and
reverent. "I love you so much, Leon. My sweet Leon."
            "I'm so in love with you," I breathed back, closing my eyes and
just trying to take everything in - the overwhelming sweetness of his words,
how good it felt. How perfect. And for the first time in a very long time, it
finally felt like things were going right.


            For a long time after we made love Frank and I just lay together
curled in bed, warm and relaxed. He'd left just long enough to bring back a
damp cloth to clean the streaks of come from my stomach, fussing over me with a
little smile before throwing a towel down on the sheet and curling around me.
"Feels so good to be with you," he murmured, nuzzling my hair, I nestled my
face under his chin with a little contented sigh, giving a soft hum in
agreement.
            "Frank?"
            "Yes, love?"
            I smiled against his skin at the endearment, at the gentle stroke
of his fingers curling in my hair. "What made you say what you did in the
office today?"
            Frank was thoughtfully silent for a time before he spoke. "It had
to do with a lot of things... I don't know if you'd believe some of them even
if I told you."
            "Try me," I replied, enjoying the warmth in his voice.
            Frank chuckled softly. "If you like. I've always... felt very
protective of you, Leon. I've always felt far more for you than I should. It's
something that's easy to push away when you've been doing it all your life. I
assumed you didn't swing that way, in any case."
            "And then I accidentally outed myself?" I guessed, and Frank
pressed a kiss to my hair with another soft laugh.
            "I was worried about you. I knew you were upset about something, I
just... wanted to take that away, somehow. Then when you told me that day that
you'd had your heart broken by a man... well, it was hard to stop thinking
about the possibility after that. I'd wanted you for too long. I even started
dreaming about you."
            "Really?" It was hard not to automatically think of my own dreams,
and I stroked my hand down his side, shifting to drop a warm kiss to his mouth.
"Tell me about them?"
            Frank gave a soft snort. "Trust me, you don't want to hear about
this old man's erotic dreams."
            "Oh, I very much think I do." I kissed him again, nuzzling his jaw.
"And you're not old."
            Frank shook his head with a soft laugh, watching me fondly. He
seemed to ponder the matter for some time before finally starting to speak. "I
dream about you, over and over," Frank murmured, his fingers still stroking
through my hair gently. "They're vivid and strange and almost always the same
two scenarios. In one you're my friend's son, and I manage the band where you
play the guitar. We aren't supposed to be together, but you're so determined to
seduce me and I can't stay away from you. You find me in the studio late at
night and push me away from the recording equipment so that you can slip down
to straddle my lap, your body warm and lithe and strong. I kiss you forever
just because I can't get enough of your mouth, and you're so beautiful...."
            I felt a shiver of desire despite my exhaustion, and stretched out
against him, pressing closer. "Mmm, don't stop now... just getting to the good
part."
            Frank chuckled softly, nuzzling my hair. "You don't think it's
dirty?"
            "No more dirty then I am," I replied, glancing up at him and giving
a little playful smile. I leaned in to kiss him warmly, letting the tip of my
tongue drag along his lower lip. "Keep going."
            Frank gave a little appreciative noise, returning my kiss with
languid warmth. He stroked a hand down over my hip. "I can't ever keep my hands
off your tight little ass as you rock and grind against me, and you whisper
between kisses what you want me to do to you. We both know that anyone could
come back to the studio and see us, and it makes it even more erotic. You make
me so hard...."
            "Tell me what you do to me," I murmured, nuzzling along his jaw to
kiss and suck at the soft skin just under his ear. I drew a deep breath just to
smell him, the arousing mix of his cologne and our sex.
            "Sometimes I push you down over the table beside the sound board
and pull down your trousers so I can kneel behind you and kiss your firm little
ass cheeks, lick them and bite them just to hear you whimper and moan and beg
for me to take you...." Frank's fingers tightened on my ass, his voice growing
huskier. "Then I taste you exactly where you want me to fuck you, lick you
until you relax for me, until you let me fuck you with my tongue...."
            "Oh my god, Frank." I draw a sharp breath against his skin, nipping
at his neck and arching closer, feeling my cock twitch in unmistakable arousal.
His words painted a vivid picture in my mind, and it was unbearably sexy. "Keep
talking. Tell me what else happens."
            Frank curled closer to me, wrapping both arms around me while
continuing to let me lick and suck at his neck. One hand smoothed over my ass,
pressing between the cheeks to stroke over my hole, still slick with lube and
his seed. "Sometimes you just slip out of your trousers and straddle me, tug
open my pants so you can sink down onto my cock. You moan like you've been
waiting all day for it, starving for it, and your hands clench tight at my
shoulders as you take your pleasure of me...."
            I was already half hard, rocking up against his thigh as he spoke,
his hands warm and possessive on my skin, fingertips of one hand still teasing
my ass. "Oh god, yes, I like your dreams. Tell me about the other."
            "The other?" Frank gave a soft laugh that sounded a little
uncomfortable.
            I licked up the tendon that ran up his neck, wriggling back against
his fingers on my ass. "You said there were two scenarios. Tell me about the
other... please, Frank...."
            "It's weird," he started slowly, warningly, but drew a soft hiss as
I slipped a hand down to curl around his cock, stroking him gently, almost
teasingly, feeling him twitch against my palm at the stimulation.
            "I don't mind weird," I replied, still stroking slowly, kissing his
cheekbone. "It sounds sexy." I gasped as one of his fingers pressed inside me
carefully, teasing sensitive nerve endings. "Mmm, yes please...."
            "As weird as dreaming about you being my wife?"
            I rocked back onto his finger with a soft groan, getting harder the
longer the conversation continued and craving for more sensation. "Not too
weird. Would love to be your little wife. Tell me about it."
            "She's barely a woman, she's - you're just a little slip of a girl
with big doe eyes and soft dark curls, you take my breath away just like you do
now. You wear these... long flowing dresses, it's... strange. Almost as if we
live in ancient times. Your father loses his fortune to me in a game of cards,
but I convince him to allow me to court you instead."
            There was something familiar about the telling, but I was far more
interested in the second finger that he'd eased inside me, the tips just barely
brushing against my sweet spot to result in the most agonizing delicious
sensation. "And I instantly fall madly in love with you?"
            Frank nuzzled my cheek, finally catching my mouth with his own,
warm and yearning, and he spoke softly between kisses. "It's not quite as easy
as that. Everything's very proper. We can only see each other with a chaperone,
and the only time I can take your hand is when we dance...."
            Things were beginning to fall into place, enough that even the haze
of desire didn't completely distract from the realization. "But at first I
think you're just courting me because it's the honourable way to claim my
father's fortune."
            He chuckled softly. "Exactly. I don't care about the money. I have
enough of my own. I just want you to be my bride. I call you - "
            "Leonessa," I blurted, and Frank froze, easing back to stare at me
disbelievingly.
            "Yes. How did you - "
            "I call you Colonel Frankland," I continued, the details coming
back to me more clearly. "You're the younger son of a duke. You know that your
older brother is dying without an heir, but you don't tell anyone that you're
to be the next marquis. You want our marriage to be based just on love."
            Frank shook his head slowly, eyebrows knit together, perplexed. "I
don't understand. I've never tried dream sharing, I've never told anyone...."
            "I've dreamed it, too." I said, a little overwhelmed by the
enormity of what I was suggesting. "But... how is that possible, sir?"
            "I don't know...." Frank leaned in to press his lips to my hair.
"Do you think it's from a book or film? Something we've both seen, something we
subconsciously cast each other in...."
            "I guess it could be?" I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to
remember. "I'm not sure that kind of movie is really my thing."
            Frank gave a little nod in agreement. "I'll do some research
tomorrow, I suppose. For now...." he caught my gaze, smoothing his hand over my
ass again. "Where were we?"
            I gave a soft moan, arching closer to him, reaching up to press my
lips to his. "Mmm... I was riding you in a recording studio because I can't get
enough of your cock...."
            Frank gave a little appreciative hum, kissing down my throat,
teasing the crook of my neck lightly with his teeth, making me shiver and draw
a sharp breath. "Is that so?"
            I tried to wriggle back against his fingers as they pressed against
my ass again, teasing the pucker of skin. "Oh god, Frank... please?"
            He eased two fingers back into me, rocking them slowly up inside
me, moving to nip at my earlobe. "You're still so slick..."
            "Told you I'm a dirty boy," I breathed, whimpering as his fingers
crooked just so, teasing me. "Let me ride you. Mmm, please...."
            "Anything you like," he murmured, easing his fingers from me and
shifting to lean back against the headboard of his bed. I knelt out over his
thighs without hesitation, glancing up at him with a little smirk before
leaning down to take him in my mouth, relaxing and swallowing him down almost
entirely in one go.
            "Leon - !" I felt his hands stroke over my shoulders, one tangling
in my hair, and when I pulled back and repeated the motion he gave a very
satisfying groan. I let myself indulge for a short time, seeking out every
ridge and vein in his cock with my tongue, sucking hard enough on his head to
make him thrust up into my mouth, fingers tightening almost painfully in my
hair. Finally I pulled back, grinning at him and taking the lube, pouring it
over his cock and my own as I pressed them together, wrapping both hands around
us and stroking slowly.
            Frank stroked his hands up and down my thighs almost restlessly,
watching me with more than a little hunger. "Have I told you how amazing you
are?"
            I laughed softly, leaning forward to kiss him hungrily, curling one
hand around the base of his cock and rocking down onto him. "Almost as amazing
as you... oh god, that feels good."
            Frank's hands curled around my hips, urging me to move as he arched
up slowly into me, quickly finding my rhythm as we moved together. This was
something I was rather proud of, being able to ride a man effortlessly with
just the strength of my own toned thighs, ride him hard and dirty until we both
came. I closed my eyes for a moment, revelling in the slide of his cock inside
me, thick and hot, stretching me open. "Oh perfect. God, I needed this."
            "Mmhmm..." Frank tugged me closer, leaning up to kiss me, one hand
cupping the back of my head as he plundered my mouth, leaving me feel so
completely claimed. I gasped against his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip and
moving a little harder, rolling my hips as I did, searching for just the right
angle...
            Frank urged my hips back a little, his cock brushing up against my
sweet spot as I sank down onto him, sending a shock of pleasure up my spine.
"Oh fuck, yes. Oh god, Frank - !"
            "Show me exactly what you wanted," he growled against my mouth,
hands tightening on my hips. "Show me how good this is for you, love."
            "Lay back," I hissed, one hand on his chest pushing him back
against the headboard again. I held his gaze as I stroked my hands over my own
chest and stomach, finally taking myself in hand to jerk myself in time with
the rock of my hips. It was amazing turmoil of sensation, and I couldn't stop
myself from moving harder on him, not trying to hold back the little mewling
cries of pleasure pulled from my throat.
            "So damn beautiful." Frank's voice was a growl that went straight
to my cock, and his hands tightened on my hips, pulling me down onto him. "Let
me watch you come, love."
            I flashed him a breathless grin, grinding down harder onto him and
letting go of control. It wasn't difficult to give in to his request, fisting
my cock faster in time with the helpless buck of my hips, my fingers slick with
lube and precum. Even as everything broke free I kept moving on him, bucking
down onto his cock as sensation shuddered through me, as my fingers milked each
spurt of my seed from me, landing slick on my own stomach and chest. "God,
Frank - !"
            He gave a choked cry, pulling me down onto him, fingers tight
enough on my hips to leave bruises, jerking up into me as he came. I rode him
through it, then sank down to rest against his chest, my entire body
overwhelmed by the intensity of sensation. Frank's breath was warm against my
hair, fingers stroking through it and down my back, wrapping his arms around
me. "So perfect. So amazing, my sweet boy."
            I managed an exhausted laugh, curling up closer to him without
pulling away, not yet. "You are. Yes."
            Frank chuckled, pressing a warm kiss to my hair. It felt good just
to be close to him like this, to gradually come down from the high of sex, to
revel in the warmth and security of his embrace. "Stay here with me tonight,"
Frank murmured, nuzzling just under my ear.
            I gave a soft sigh in agreement, never wanting to let go. "I don't
have a clean uniform for tomorrow...."
            "We'll figure something out," he replied, lips moving up to kiss my
temple. It was nearing the end of the second half, and we cleaned up, wanting
nothing more than to curl together and fall asleep. This I did most happily,
wrapped in the security of his embrace.
 

            In the dark security of sleep I heard a voice, low and rich, but a
little breathless at the same time. Sad. "You two again. Oh dear. I did tell
them that it was a bad idea to place you together in a platonic fashion. They
would find so much more success if they'd simply listen to me...."
            There came a gentle touch to my forehead, smoothing away my hair.
"I am sorry about this, I truly am. Don't try to remember again, please. It's
for the best. You're not supposed to fall in love this time." Then there was a
sharp pain, right between my eyebrows, and everything faded to darkness.


            I found Frank in his office at the start of shift, reading through
the reports that had come in for the cycle, a cup of coffee already cold by his
elbow. For a moment I just stood in the door way, watching him, fondness
curling low and warm in my stomach; the kind of fluttery happiness that only
comes from truly falling in love. I shut the door behind me, taking a packaged
report chip to him. "Good morning, sir."
            Frank glanced up and gave me a smile before going back to the
report. "Morning, Husselbeck."
            I knew I should behave and go back to work, but I couldn't make
myself leave quite yet. I let my fingers brush his shoulder familiarly.
"Frank... thank you for last night."
            "I'm sorry?" Frank looked up at me, eyebrows knitting together,
perplexed, and for a moment I faltered, a shiver of dread running through me.
            "Last night," I repeated, not knowing what else to say. "When you
asked me back for coffee...."
            Frank shook his head slowly, eyebrows furrowing a little. "I'm
sorry, I... asked you back for coffee? Husselbeck... are you feeling all
right?"
            The words stung, and it took me a moment to respond, to swallow
down the well of hurt. "You've changed your mind, then? Look, I can handle it
if you have. You don't have to pretend like this."
            "Pretend at what?" Frank looked honestly confused, and it made it
harder.
            I folded my arms tightly across my chest, fingers digging into my
biceps painfully tight. "Don't pretend last night didn't happen, please." My
voice wavered on the words, and I cleared my throat, trying again. "Please."
            "Pretend that what didn't happen?" Frank shook his head, openly
concerned. "We called it a night on the case and went home last night, I - what
on earth are you talking about?"
            I blinked back tears hard, keeping my voice low to hold back the
emotion in it. "You promised me that it wouldn't affect our work. You promised
me that. Why are you doing this? You took me home last night to your apartment,
you let me play your beautiful accordion with the mother of pearl inlay. You
kissed me. We made love. You told me - " I had to bite back a sob; I couldn't
finish. I'd believed it when he said it. I'd wanted it all so badly. I pressed
the heels of my palms to my eyes for a moment, trying to calm my breath. "Was
it just about the conquest for you? Just tell me the truth. If you don't love
me, just tell me!"
            "How do you know about my accordion?" his voice was soft and
worried, but I couldn't do this any longer.
            "Fine, then. You want to end it like this? Fine. I'll request a
transfer right away."
            I turned for the door, and finally he moved, crossing his office to
catch hold of my arm, "Husselbeck - "
            "It's Leon!" I hissed, twisting my arm from my grasp and yanking
the door open, striding out with him in hot pursuit. I stopped dead a mere
stride from his door, though, staring at the three pale men that blocked the
hallway, dressed in long, old fashioned black coats and wide-brimmed hats.
            "Sleep," one of them said, lifting a hand, and the world went black
around me.

***


 
Ben Carson

            There was nothing more disconcerting than being woken by being
called one's lover when he was fast asleep. "Ben. Ben, wake up. I need you.
Hurry."
            It took me a moment to focus, and by that time Larry had started to
stir as well, sleepily confused. "What - Wake up, both of you - oh, Christ."
            "We're up," I told him, cluing in to the knock on the apartment
door. "Just let me grab clothes."
            "I'll get the door," Larry replied, shifting into one of his more
nondescript male personas and heading out of the bedroom. I met him a few
moments later, having grabbed pulled on jeans and a t-shirt with a hoodie over
the top. Larry was at the door with a woman I hadn't seen before, who looked
rather out of breath.
            "Same place as last time," she replied, glancing up at Larry's
shoulder as the dragon swooped down to land on it, apparently not to be left
behind. "Hurry, I can't stay long."
            "We'll be there soon," Larry assured her, grabbing my arm and
towing me out of the apartment towards the lifts as the woman took off in the
opposite direction disappearing into the apartment next to ours.
            It was more than a little disorienting. "Larry, what the hell...."
            "Daniel's got someone out," he replied, towing me out of the lift
just as quickly and hitting the signal button to hail a cab.
            The thought was thrilling, and a little relieving at the same time.
He'd seemed so crushed when we'd last seen him, after losing the last one....
            When the cab set us down next to a darkened office building, it
started to seem familiar to me. Larry started down the alley without delay,
producing a tiny flashlight from somewhere to light the way. We almost missed
Daniel when we turned the corner, who stood up against the wall, barely visible
despite the white lab coat and the flicker of lights on his optical device.
"This way," he murmured, starting along the building. "This one..." his words
trailed off into a sigh. "He'll be difficult."
            "Difficult?" I questioned, and then Daniel swiped an access card,
opening a door in the building to a surge of light.
            When my vision adjusted, I recognized the room that Daniel had
brought me to, where I'd first met Larry. The boy standing against the wall
looked little more than that, barely past twenty. He was dressed in a dark,
plush robe, but still seemed freezing, and Larry was already shifting, pulling
off his clothes.
            "Who are you?" Blue eyes were wide and frightened, and I stepped
forward, offering my hand.
            "Ben Carson. I escaped, the same as you. Don't worry, we'll keep
you safe."
            "Safe?" his voice wavered on the word, curling a little more in on
himself. "From what? Myself? I've gone insane, everything that I thought was
real - "
            "We'll keep you safe from the Strangers, those men with the pale
skin and the black coats. They control this city and the memories of the people
inside it. When we remember things that they shouldn't, they consider us a
failed experiment. They try to kill us. That's what Daniel saved you from."
            "You were in our apartment building," Larry said suddenly beside
me, and Daniel and I both turned to look at him. He'd shifted back to the
female persona, holding clothes and a pair of boots and ignoring the lizard as
he tried to chew on her hair. "You came in with that man last night - the
suspicious one that thought Ben was a prostitute."
            "You saw us?" Something akin to relief passed over his face, and he
sagged back against the wall. "You saw Frank and I together?"
            "It did happen," Daniel said softly, though I still wasn't quite
certain what 'it' was. "I'm so sorry, Leon. They never intended for you to fall
in love this time. You have lived dozens of lives together before now, you may
have remembered some in dreams. But this time they wanted it to remain platonic
so that you would focus on the cases only. They erased both your memories that
night during the Tuning and took you back to your own home. The imprint held on
Frank, erased every memory of what you did together. It didn't take for you."
            "Oh, sweetie...." Larry's voice was a soft moan, and he stepped
forward, dropping the clothes and wrapping his arms around the newcomer. He
didn't resist this time, sagging against Larry and burying his face in her
shoulder, giving way to choked sobs.
            Well. This was certainly going to be different.
            I glanced to Daniel. "What should we do?"
            "Keep him safe, get him well. You won't be able to go back to that
apartment, but I've secured another location in a safe place, a three bedroom
this time so that hopefully I do not have to relocate you again so very soon."
He pressed a key card into my hand that was wrapped in a slip of paper with an
address printed on it. "Don't let him go looking for anyone he used to know.
They will not remember him, he has been completely replaced."
            "Frank will know me." The boy - Leon's - voice was a little
steadier as he looked up from Larry's shoulder. "I know he will. I just need
time, now that I know what's happened I can make him remember...."
            "If you love him, you won't," Daniel replied softly, holding his
gaze. "He has two strikes against him already, Leon, same as you had. If you'd
both woken up at once I would not have been able to save you both. Even if he
remembers on his own... I've lost two people for every one that I have managed
to save. The safest place for him is where he is right now, the safest thing is
for him to continue with no memories of you." He touched Leon's shoulder,
lowering his voice. "I'm sorry."
            Daniel left with apologies as Larry helped Leon dress, chattering
at him about everything we'd found out since waking up. Leon stayed silent
throughout the exchange, letting us bundle him back into a cab, staring down at
his lap as we traveled to our new destination.
            "Kuronue!" Larry scooped the dragon off his shoulder as he tried to
take a bite out of Leon's hair. "Stop that. You can't eat, especially not hair.
And be nice to Leon." He grinned at Leon apologetically, while I wondered when
the dragon had settled on a name. He'd been Ginger the last I'd asked, and
before that Fred, Rasterize and Starscream in turn. "Ben got him for me.
There's really no limit to what we can procure, but anything other than
clothing and accessories has to be kind of... planned out. We can get you a pet
if you like?"
            "I'm all right, thank you," Leon replied softly, but when the
little dragon curled up in his lap he ran a hand slowly over its spines.
            We settled Leon in one of the bedrooms of the new apartment when we
reached it, and he fell asleep almost immediately. Larry and I set to re-
personalizing the new space, getting some colour to cover the white. Still,
something Daniel had said tugged at the back of my mind.
            "You worried about something?" Larry asked finally, back to his
true self like he always was at home. He let a hand rest on my back, warm and
reassuring.
            "Not worried," I said slowly, "Just thinking... Lar, have you ever
dreamed about us?"
            He pondered it for a moment. "Well, there was one once where we
were in a hot tub filled completely with melted chocolate...."
            I chuckled softly and shook my head. "No, no, I mean, plausible
dreams. Things that could be memories."
            Larry looked at me curiously, but shook his head. "No. But then...
I've never remembered anything before. You think you are?”
            I slipped my arms around his waist and pressed close. "Perhaps...
there's been, well... nothing reoccurring, but it's the same kind of
circumstance. I dream about Daniel when he's young, and... you're there too."
            Larry returned my embrace, giving a curious little smile.
"Hopefully not as part of your family."
            I chuckled, shaking my head. "No, god no, but you might as well
be." I moved a hand to stroke up his cheek and into his hair. "Your hair is
lighter, short and spiky. You have so many freckles...." I leaned in to indulge
in a warm kiss, feeling him relax into me. "I was so fucking in love with you."
            "Sounds like we picked up where we left off," he replied with a
smile, returning my kiss with one of his own, warm and yearning. I had to
resist the urge to melt into it.
            "Lar... I don't know if I can keep sitting here doing nothing.
Yeah, we've found each other, but...." I glanced towards the closed bedroom
door, and Larry gave a slow nod.
            "I know, I just... what can we do? They're everywhere, they control
everything. Even if there were ten times, a hundred times more of us... what
could we do?"
            I don't know," I admitted, shaking my head slowly. "I'll talk to
Daniel next time he comes by, I mean... maybe there's some weakness they have
that we can take advantage of."
            "That Daniel wouldn't have tried before?"
            "Daniel's only one man." I looked up, cupping his cheek. "If there
is something we can do... are you with me?"
            "Always," Larry replied, arms tightening around me.

***

***** May and Emma *****
May Jensen

            My heart knows you. I love you. Nothing else matters.
            It had become the mantra of my meetings with Emma, and we stole
away from our lives as often as we could, even if it just meant moments in a
coffee shop or the darkness of a movie theatre.
            The more we talked, the more we tried to put things together, the
more everything seemed to fall apart. I remembered my first client, remembered
the rush of calm and satisfaction that came over me the first time I picked up
a paddle. But everything in between seemed muddy and indistinct. What was my
first kiss like? When was the first time I slept with someone by choice? I
asked myself those questions, and my memories only went back to Emma, to the
beautiful moments that we'd had together and the things I remembered that logic
stated could not be real. I remembered our first kiss, shy and timid,
remembered her sweet little sigh, the warmth of her body pressing closer to
mine. I remembered the first time we made love, how it felt to finally cover
her skin in kisses, to find out what made her shiver and gasp.
            "Stay with me," I murmured as we lay together in my bed, nude and
languid, but Emma just sighed.
            "I wish I could. I have to perform, love." Emma's smile was
wistful. "I'll be back as soon as I can."
            I nodded, wondering why we had to continue to pretend to live these
lives. But what else could we do in this world? Part of me wanted to run away,
to take her far away from everything and start over. I could take clients
without sleeping with them, I'd done it before. I could support us until I
found a place where she could sing again. But at the same time every part of my
being screamed against it in rejection. I'd be nothing if I wasn't this, I'd
have no identity. It made my head ache to think about it, so eventually I just
stopped, just let myself get lost in the sweetness of the one thing that I knew
for certain, the only truth in the midst of all this confusion. "I love you."
            "I love you too," she sighed, leaning in to kiss me warmly before
pulling back. "Will you come with me to catch a cab?"
            "Of course," I replied, and dressed with her, helping her find
where we'd scattered her clothes around the room. She'd come in a simple skirt
suit, the kind of classic lines I'd learned she preferred when she wasn't on
stage. She zipped up sleek coat of black twill over it, the princess seams
accentuating her curves. I pulled my dress on over my head without bothering
with underwear since I'd be home again soon enough. My hair was a disaster, but
it was easy enough to smooth it back with my fingers and pull it into a tight
ponytail at the base of my neck. I pulled on a thigh length leather jacket over
top of the dress and belted it at the waist. It was soft and warm and elegant,
as opposed to most of the leather pieces in my wardrobe. Pulling on matching
knee-high boots, I took Emma's hand in mine and headed out.
            There was a small coffee bar on the bottom floor of my building,
the shop open to the street with stools along the counter for the customers who
wanted to stop and sip their drinks, to be seen rather than hurrying along to
their destination. There was a young couple there, seated beside each other,
the girl's head on her boyfriend's shoulder, dark curls tumbling down over the
back of his jacket. Emma followed my gaze and gave a little wistful smile. "I
wish that could be us."
            "We can pretend for a few minutes, can't we?" I leaned in to kiss
her temple. "Let me buy you coffee before you leave."
            Emma hesitated, then nodded, giving me a warm smile. "I'd love
that."
            Hand-brewed coffee was an art form, something that couldn't be
duplicated by the replicators any more than a good bottle of wine. The
programming to create each individual kind of bean was the greatest kept secret
of any coffee company, and the rich went to coffee tastings, debating the full
flavour of this blend compared to that. Emma ordered a brew that I was
particularly fond of, so I doubled the order, waiting patiently while the
barista set to grinding the beans fresh for the individual cups.
            Emma sat up on a stool with her back to the bar, holding out her
hands to me. I took both of them with a smile, stepping close to her, thinking
about nothing but how beautiful her smile was. "It feels like you're the only
thing that matters in the world," I murmured, and Emma flushed, looking down
with a soft laugh.
            "Come here," she said softly, tugging me closer for a soft kiss.
            "... Emma?"
            I felt Emma jerk tense in my embrace, and jerked around to see the
man who had spoken standing at the corner of the shop. I recognized him
immediately, though I'd only seen his dark curls and slightly delicate features
once before in the darkness of the nightclub. His eyes were a particularly
striking shade of hazel, and were currently bright with hurt, eyebrows knit
together.
            "Oh god." Emma had slipped down off the stool and out of my arms.
"John?" 
            "I - " he gave a little helpless shake of his head, stepping
backwards. "Oh god." The words were choked, and he turned from us, darting out
into the darkness.
            "John!" Emma went after him at a run, and I followed without
thinking, rounding the corner of the apartment building to find them half-
hidden from the street by a van.
            "You've been having an affair." His voice was broken, disbelieving,
and he raked his fingers through his hair, pacing along the wall of the
building. "We've been married for a year, you're tired of me already?"
            "It's not that!" Emma's voice was a soft sob. "This isn't about us,
John. This was never about you and me."
            "How can it not be about us?" He turned back to her, looking up at
me helplessly. "You're sleeping with someone else."
            Emma caught his arm. "John, please. I remember May, and she
remembers me. I can't explain it, John. Maybe it's another life, but I loved
her and my heart can't forget about it. It doesn't mean I don't care for
you...."
            "Another life?" He shook his head helplessly. "What are you saying?
Am I supposed to believe something like that? Just tell me the truth, Emma. If
you don't love me anymore, just tell me!"
            Emma was in tears, and it was all I could to stop myself from going
to her. "John, you're my life. But I can't forget love, I can't - "
            "Pardon us."
            The voice that spoke behind me was eerily familiar, crawling like
ice up my spine. I whirled, stepping back towards Emma protectively, knowing
somehow that I had to protect her from the men that stood there - three of them
in long black coats and wide-brimmed hats. They were pale, too pale. Inhuman.
"Emma. Run."
            "We'll have none of that, yes?" The one in the lead raised his
hand, fingers outstretched. "Sleep."
            Through the darkness that swirled around me, I could hear them
speak. "This is the one that was last her husband, yes? How does she continue
to interfere with the experiments?"
            The third joined in. "We should reset them all and start from
scratch. The integrity of the data has been compromised too many times to
continue."
            "It is a lost cause, yes. But perhaps we can use this. Let us
launch the serial killer experiment early, let these events play out with the
couple. It will only take slight modification to the data we currently have
stored. Reset these two for now. Let them sleep until the next Tuning, have the
doctor reprogram them, yes? We'll deal with the blond for now. We will make
sure this time that there will be no more interference from her."
            I wanted to cry out for Emma, wanted to reach for her, touch her,
but I couldn't move, couldn't speak. Then even their voices faded, and I felt
nothing at all.
 
 
 
            The light that broke through the darkness was so bright that it was
overwhelming, and I clenched my eyes shut, crying out with everything that I'd
been forced to hold back, clawing at the fabric under my hands. "Emma - !"
            "It's all right. She's safe. She'll be okay."
            The voice was somehow familiar, and I focused on it, blinking,
forcing my eyes to adjust to the light. Why was it so bright? "I can't see
you."
            "Your real body has been asleep for a very long time. It's all
right. This is natural. Your eyes will adjust. For now you must trust me. I
need to get you out of here before they come." I felt hands on mine, tried to
focus on the human form that moved over top of me, urging me to sit up. I was
cold, so very cold, and only wearing the thinnest grey cotton panties and tank
top. I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes, and finally focused on the
man who was with me in the dark room - small and blond and dressed in a white
lab coat. One of his blue eyes had been replaced by a strange system of lenses.
Something came to mind, a half forgotten memory, a name....
            "Doctor Schreber."
            He gave a little sad smile and nodded. "So you are remembering even
that. I am so sorry about all of this, May. I will answer any questions you
have as soon as you are safe. For now, you must come with me, quickly."
             I hesitated only for a moment, and then took his hand.

***

 
 
Ben Carson

            In the days after Leon joined us, we didn't go out often. I wanted
to talk to Daniel, but waiting for him to visit left me feeling restless and
helpless, so instead I spent my time investigating how to turn replicated
ingredients into much better meals than the computer could turn out. Leon
answered questions when asked, but didn't speak otherwise, and I decided not to
push him. After sleeping off the effects of the cryogenic sleep for several
days like I had, he spent much of his time curled up on the love seat under a
throw, reading a book with Larry's dragon draped over his or shoulder or head.
            I'd just finished piling the dishes into the sonic washer when a
knock came on the front door, and I returned to the main room to find Larry
closing the door behind my brother and a woman I didn't recognize. Daniel was
dressed in a dark suit and a long jacket and looked more than a little
frazzled. He looked up at me and gave a strained smile. "I apologize, I cannot
stay for long. I need to reset her, she was on the very bottom level and I
couldn't take her out of the underneath completely without Them seeing me, so
she'll just be a shell. I'll need you to take care of her as well."
            "Of course," I said, watching the woman follow him jerkily. It was
then that I realized her features were too smooth, too nondescript, and almost
plastic. This was just another shell like the one that had taken my place, he
must be controlling it as well.
            The shell sat down on the sofa and stretched out on its back, eyes
closing, and Daniel's eyes closed as well for a moment, letting out a sigh of
relief. He took a strange, object of glass and brass from the pocket of his
overcoat, and the brass casing surrounding it sprung open like brass filigree
wings, a needle descending from the bottom with a mechanical whir. "It's not a
syringe," he explained as Larry came up to stand beside me, watching curiously.
"Though I am quite fond of the design, if I do say so myself. The first set of
experiments we ran were based on Victorian England... ah, that term may be
unknown to you. In any case, I kept the design. It is a portable upload device.
It is necessary to establish the link between a shell and the human controlling
it when a human has remembered and been wiped... or in this case, been taken
off the grid entirely. There is an input port in the center of a shell's
forehead that links to its neural net, similar to the ones on the backs of your
necks." He worked as he spoke, running a fingertip down the center of the
shell's forehead until he reached a spot a little above the eyebrows. Then he
pierced the skin carefully with the device, fingers slipping into the o-rings
at its base and pushing the plunger home.
            The effect was immediate and would have been startling if I hadn't
seen Larry change so many times. Plastic-perfect skin became real, a soft,
peaches and cream complexion, thin lips becoming full and rouged, muddy brown
hair lightening to a shining gold that formed into fat ringlet curls. Grey
cotton clothes turned to a black leather coat and knee high boots, and when
Daniel pulled the syringe from her forehead she opened her eyes with a gasp.
            "It's all right," he said softly, keeping a hand on her shoulder as
he tucked the syringe away. "May, this is my brother Ben and his boyfriend
Larry, and the cute boy behind me is Leon. They'll take care of you and answer
any questions you still have. In the meantime please give me a moment to speak
with all of you about something important." Daniel straightened looking at
Larry and I. "There's a stray loose in the city."
            Larry's eyes narrowed slightly. "Loose like I was? They're chasing
him?"
            "No, not yet. I mean loose as in, he woke himself from cryogenic
sleep and escaped from the Underneath without my aid. I'm not certain how. He
also created his own clothes."
            Larry gave a little nod. "So he has my ability."
            "Not exactly. Your mind has evolved to interface with the same
machines that I control, which is made possible through your continued
connection to the machine that controls only the physical characteristics of
the shells. If you were unplugged you would not be able to alter anything any
more than I could. This is why they considered you a failure. What this man has
accomplished has happened completely independent of that. A step up the
evolutionary ladder. Perhaps something that can rival the Strangers abilities.
It is what I have been waiting for."
            I felt a thrill of excitement in my core. "A weapon against them."
            "If we can keep him away from them, yes, possibly. I need you to
find him and keep him safe at all costs. There is little that can damage them,
unfortunately - water, sunlight. Enough damage to the head that the parasite is
killed, which certainly could not be accomplished with the peace-keeping
weapons of this era."
            "A gunshot wound with ammo that explodes on impact?" Larry
suggested, pulling a pistol from the back of his pants and offering it hilt-
first, at which Daniel and I both started.
            Daniel gave a soft laugh. "Yes, precisely. But please be careful.
Do not provoke a fight unless you absolutely must. If you attack one, the
others will just render you incapacitated before you can get off a second
shot."
            I nodded. "But how do we find him?"
            "It will be difficult. His memories have been all but erased or
fragmented - worse than yours were, Larry - so he could choose to go anywhere.
Likely he will chase those fragments in an attempt to discover his own
identity. In this you have a small advantage." He looked down to where the
woman called May sat on the couch, legs pulled up to her chest, listening
quietly. "He is the man who was married to the women you are in love with. His
name is John Murdoch."

***

***** John Murdoch *****
John Murdoch

            When I opened my eyes the world was nothing but a pattern of
darkness and light, and everything was cold.
            The moments of disorientation between sleep and waking were normal,
waiting for the mind to adjust, for reality to come back.
            Except this time it didn't.
            I sat bolt upright, almost hitting my head on the lid of the
strange, brightly lit cot I was laying in. At the same time I felt something
twang at the back of my neck with a shock of pain, leaving me feeling a little
light-headed. When I turned back to see what it had been, two cords lay on the
white padding of the cot, and I touched the back of my neck to find a strange
metal plate with two sockets inside it.
            Where the hell was I?
            More importantly... who the hell was I?
            The room was small, barely twice the size of the strange oval pod
I'd been laying in. The walls, floor and ceiling all seemed made of the same
dark material, a twisting black metal that glinted in the light from the cot. I
got to my feet cautiously, catching myself against the wall as my legs
threatened to buckle but managing to keep upright. There was a smooth panel
that looked like a handle-less door in front of me, and I was about to try it
when my mind clued in to the fact the I was dressed only in a pair of very
small grey cotton shorts.
            Clothes. Clothes were much easier to focus on than the uncertainty
of being here, of not remembering how I got here or even what my name was. A
strange thought buzzed at the corner of my mind, a weird, shivery sensation
that made me turn to look behind me. There was a pile of clothes on the metal
floor by the edge of the bed - how had I not noticed them before? Soft grey
slacks, a button down shirt and a matching gray jacket, a soft charcoal leather
overcoat. The black boots were leather as well, and I turned them over in my
hands, finding them to be brand new, without even any scuff marks on the
treads.
            I dressed, feeling a little stronger and more sure of myself as I
did. At the touch of my hand the door to the room opened, and I stepped out
into a hallway very much like the room had been, long and dark, with dozens of
identical doors on either side. I checked a few of them to either side of me,
but they were the same as mine apart from the fact that the occupant of the
strange cot was still sleeping, the lid of the cot shut tight. I gave up on the
rooms after checking four or five and made my way down the hall instead. At one
end it ended abruptly in an empty shaft, and when I tried to look up and down
it I couldn't see the top, just openings to more levels lit with a flickering
blue glow. I could just see another opening at the end of the hall, and I
hurried towards it, beginning to feel more and more panicked. Perhaps this was
a nightmare. How else could I explain everything?
            The hall ended again in a similar, bottomless shaft, though beyond
the shaft another opening stretched out into an identical hallway. More doors,
more rooms. But there had to be some way out of here....
            I started back from the shaft, trying to decide which door to try,
but as I turned, a flicker of movement caught my eye. I looked back to find a
man standing at the mouth of the shaft, staring at me in open astonishment. He
was blond and dressed in a white lab coat with a strange device hooked onto his
glasses, one eye replaced with something dark and glassy. Stranger were the
bands of silver metal that curled up his calves and under the jacket. Was this
someone familiar to me? Did I even know who he was?
            "You woke up on your own?" The words slipped from his mouth in soft
astonishment. Then he was gliding towards me, hovering a few inches above the
metal flooring. "You're confused, aren't you? Frightened? It's all right. I can
help you."
            Part of me wanted to do nothing more than to take off running back
down the hallway, but I knew there was no escape that way. "Who the hell are
you?"
            "My name is Daniel Schreber. I am a doctor. Now, you must listen to
me." He reached me, taking hold of my arm and tugging me back towards the shaft
I'd just left. "I can get you out of here, but first I have to hide you. We do
not have much time. Come with me, stand on my shoes and I'll take you up."
            What choice did I have but to trust him? He was small, and it was a
little awkward, but in moments I was rising up the empty shaft with only the
support of the other man's body against my own.
            "We're all prisoners here," he was saying, voice low. "They control
everything in the city for their own ends. You have lost your memory. There was
an experiment, something went wrong. Your memory was erased. Do you understand
me?"
            Experiments? "No, I don't understand. What the hell is going on
here?"
            "They'll be looking for you as soon as they realize you're not
connected. You must not let them find you." We'd reached the top of the shaft,
and he took us in through one of the doors that lined this hallway, identical
to the one I'd just left. There was another strange capsule here, another
sleeping person. We touched down. "Please stay here. I have to return to them,
but I will come back for you. I'll take you to people who can keep you safe.
Just please don't leave."
            I nodded, still not understanding any of what was going on, and
before I could say anything else he was gone.
            For a short time I did as promised, standing in the darkness and
trying very hard not to think about the person sleeping next to me, the glimpse
of their face reminding me much too much of a person laid out in a casket. My
own life and identity had still failed to return to me. I could remember
flashes if I thought hard, but nothing made sense.
            Being young, sitting in the sand at the beach building castles with
another young boy with blond hair and glasses.
            My mother calling me for dinner with my little sister.
            None of it made sense.
            Suddenly I heard voices from the hallway, and I stiffened. There
was something familiar to them, something dreadful and terrifying, though I
didn't know why.
            The first speaker was cold, almost unemotional apart from a touch
of superiority. "There has been too much activity in this area, yes? Doors
opening and closing. Pods deactivating."
            The second voice was not much warmer, though it sounded a little...
confused. "But the doctor tells us that no one has accessed the pods."
            "Our doctor is still human, yes? He is... not infallible. We are
concerned that he has been spending time with the subjects."
            A third. "But that would invalidate the experiments!"
            "Perhaps we should restrict the doctor's access to the grid?"
            "If we discover it for certain, yes. For now we will simply
observe. Check these doors. Make sure everything is all right."
            They'll be coming from you, the doctor had said.
            Oh fuck.
            Something pulled at the back of my mind, the same shivery sensation
I'd felt before, and when I turned, I could see the outline of a door behind
the pod. How had I not noticed that before? I hopped over it without thinking,
stepping through the door as it opened to find myself in what seemed like an
access shaft, narrow and dark with metal rungs up the side. Was up the way out?
It was the way the doctor had taken me. Well, there was really no way to go but
forward.
            Like Alice down the rabbit hole. The thought brushed my mind, and I
thought of a girl in a blue and white dress and a rabbit with a pocket watch.
How curious.
            The climb seemed to take forever, and was far more tiring than I
expected, my limbs weak and trembling. At times I stopped to rest, clinging to
the rungs with my fingers and the toes of my shoes, closing my eyes and trying
not to pass out from exhaustion. When I finally reached the top - a hinged trap
door - I could have cried in relief. The room I entered was dark, but finally
warm, and when I crawled out into a pile of something soft I couldn't do
anything more than close my eyes and fall asleep.


            "What the hell are you doing in my fabric? You're one of those
goddamn club kids, aren't you? Fucking winos, the lot of you!"
            I was assaulted from sleep by light and the grating, yelled words,
and for a moment all I could do was stare up at him blankly. "What...?"
            "I don't care how drunk you are, this is trespassing! What lock
pick kit did you use to get down here? You've ruined my goddamn taffeta, are
you going to pay for that with your booze money?"
            I managed to stagger to my feet, focusing on the older man who was
up in arms in the doorway as well as the pile of shimmery white fabric I'd been
curled up in. "I didn't break in, I came in through the trap door, I - " I
turned to look, but the floor was a smooth, unbroken concrete.
            How the hell....
            "I don't care what the hell you're on, I'm calling the cops,
mister. So you'd better - " Halfway through the tirade, however, he stopped
dead, crumpling ungracefully to the floor.
            Oh god. Had I given him a heart attack?
            I stumbled over to him and dropped to my knees, rolling him onto
his back and checking for a pulse. "Mister? Hey mister, wake up. Oh god." The
pulse was there, though, and his chest moved with breath - too much, I thought,
as he let out a shuddering snore.
            Asleep? Just narcolepsy?
            I drew back from him with a soft sigh and ran my hands through my
hair. Whatever it was... I didn't want to be around when he woke up. I stepped
over him carefully, trying the doors in the hallway until I found one that
opened onto a stairwell, following it upstairs. The level above was a
comfortably furnished sitting room, and a dress form in the middle held what
looked like a very elaborate wedding gown, all silk and taffeta and little
crystal beads. Was I married? The idea seemed strange to me. Maybe I was just
single, then.
            When I finally found the door out of the apartment, I nearly
tripped over another person by the lifts, stretched out on the floor asleep. It
sent a sudden surge of dread down my spine. Two narcoleptics? When he lift
didn't come, I ran up the stairwell next to it, emerging into the court of what
looked like a combination shopping mall and professional buildings - huge
storefronts with flashy clothes and artwork with sets of lifts between them,
listing the offices you could visit with each one. The mall was completely,
deathly still, but not from being empty: here, just as below, every single
person was fast asleep.
            I shook a woman on a bench. "Can you hear me? Please, wake up. If
you're just asleep, wake up. Oh god, why won't you...." It was the same with
the man slumped over a table, head laid down next to a still steaming cup of
coffee. And the man at the coffee bar itself, asleep over the counter. Was it
the entire mall? What about the entire city?
            I'd just started for the exit to find out when the lights
flickered. I heard a soft chime somewhere, and the world around me came back to
life.
            "Hey, Mr. Murdoch!"
            I turned without knowing why, meeting the gaze of the man now
standing behind the coffee counter. He beckoned me forward, so I went. If he
knew me, maybe he could tell me who the hell I was at least....
            "You left the GPS for your car here last night," he said in a low
voice, passing me a package in a dark bag. "Did you find your wife?"
            "Excuse me?"
            "You know. That address you asked me to hack off of it for you,
where she went. I didn't tell anyone. Did you find it all right?"
            I hesitated, then shook my head. If I told him I had no clue what
my name was, he'd think I was insane. "No, something came up. What was the
address again?"
            "The apartment building on the corner of D and 19th. Hope she shows
up for your performance tonight."
            "My performance?"
            "Yeah, at Silver Whispers. You two playing somewhere else now too?
Need me to hail you a cab?"
            "I'm all right," I said, sticking the bag into the pocket of my
coat. There were a few folded bills there, and I pulled them out, passing one
to him with a smile. "I have a few errands to run. Thank you."
            Leaving the building, I leaned up against the wall weakly. So I was
married. And my wife was missing? What the hell was I supposed to do about all
of this?
            Well. I supposed the first thing to do would be to find out who I
was. So stepping out, I hailed a hover-cab and started off for Silver Whispers.


            When I reached the night club, there was a big sign by the main
entrance. "Live Show Cancelled." Still, there was a long queue of people in
skimpy club wear, and I could hear the throb of music inside. I tried not to
make eye contact as I slipped past them, heading up to the bouncer. "Hey... why
are we cancelled tonight?"
            "Mr. Murdoch!" He looked surprised, and then shook his head. "Emma
called in to cancel an hour ago, said you've been missing for days. You okay,
man? There were cops around here looking for you about half an hour ago."
            Cops? I gave my head a little shake. "I'm fine, I have no clue why
they'd been here. Did Emma say where she was going?" The name seemed strange on
my lips. I was married to this woman?
            "No, sorry. Oh, but someone did stop by...." he rummaged through
his jacket pockets, handing me a card. "Said he needed to meet with you
urgently. I know it's not your style but the paper card was so ridiculous I
thought you might want to see it. Who the hell uses paper for business cards,
anyway?"
            I stared down at the card. 'Daniel P. Schreber, MD.' An address,
which I committed to memory. This whole night was like a goddamn maze.
"Thanks," I muttered, stuffing the card in my pocket and heading away. I
thought about the strange man I'd met so far underground and shivered at the
memory of the cold. Was he really here to help me?
            There was a big coloured marquee against the wall, a picture of
myself decked out in cyber gear with a beautiful, dark haired woman. Emma and
J. Murdoch, it read. I took it in for a moment, memorizing Emma's look, then
turned the corner into the more deserted alleyway, playing the name over in my
head and against my tongue. Murdoch, that had been what the man in the mall had
called me. J Murdoch? Fuck, there were a million names that could start with J.
I went through common ones in my head, trying to see if anything resonated with
me.
            "Come to Shell Beach!" The booming announcement cut through my
thoughts, and I looked down the alley to see a huge billboard on the top of a
building at the other end. It had just activated, shooting out an array of
lights and holograms, and I started towards it slowly. Shell Beach, the city's
premier vacation destination, just outside the city walls. Guaranteed to be the
most realistic beach experience ever. The holograms were of real sea waves, of
girls in skimpy bikinis and muscle clad men. They all seemed bathed by the sun,
and suddenly something in my thoughts snapped into place. There'd been no sun
here for decades, since before I was born. How did I remember a sunlit beach?
            "If you look for yourself too hard, you may not like what you
find."
            That voice! I whirled, my insides tying in knots, staring at the
three men who approached. No, four: three and a child? Black coats, black hats.
Pale skin, too pale. Something about them pricked at my memory, combining with
the cold fear I felt at the sound of that voice. "Who are you?"
            "We might ask the same question, yes?" He held up a hand, palm
towards me, fingers splayed. "Sleep. Now."
            The words buzzed through my mind, strange and heavy, but I shook
them off, taking a step back. They'll be coming for you, the doctor had said.
There must be some reason as to why I was afraid. The leader seemed genuinely
shocked for a moment, then pulled a blade from inside his jacket, the blade
springing into place with a metallic swish like an old fashioned switch blade.
            I ran.
            I could hear something crashing and breaking behind me, but I
didn't turn to see what it was. I didn't stop until the first man suddenly
dropped down in front of me from the sky, lunging toward me with the knife,
driving me back. I couldn't think, just react, trying to get away, fear and
adrenaline a shuddering heat rushing through my veins.
            Something pulled at the back of my mind, a panicked warning. I
dropped to the ground without knowing why just as a jet cycle came careening
down the alley, a blur of silver chrome and blue LED lighting as it spun end
over end through the air. Two of the men jerked back, but the back rim of bike
caught the third in the head as it spun, slicing through with a sickening
squelch. Immediately the air filled with a high pitch screaming, and the
remaining two men and child curled up on themselves in pain, clutching their
heads and sounding a weird barrage of clicks. Out of the back of the fallen
one's sliced off skull, a strange, glowing worm like creature oozed,
shuddering, shrivelling up on itself.
            I decided not to wait to see what the hell was going on and took
off at a run for the bike, which had finally spun to a stop several feet away,
hovering a few inches above the ground. Wherever it had come from, I didn't
care, and I hauled myself up into the seat and took off. Despite the hover cab
I’d taken appearing to be completely automatic, I discovered the hover bike
allowed manual control by the pilot, and I was grateful for that, zipping away
through the streets as fast as the bike would take me with no aim in mind other
than getting away, keeping low to the ground and to the center of the street to
avoid hover cars as they parked and took off.
            When I came to the river I finally stopped, putting the bike into
idle and moving slowly along the street while I tried to take stock of what I'd
found out.
            My name was J-something Murdoch. I had a wife who thought I'd been
missing for days. The cops were looking for me, probably because of my wife. I
had a car GPS and a paper business card in my pocket. I had a bike that was
probably stolen. And weird pale men with alien slug things in their heads were
trying to kill me.
            Well, some things were definitely more fucked up than others.
            I glanced up to the street sign as I passed it, noticing that I was
on Avenue D, and remembered what the hacker had told me about the address. It
seemed a good enough place to try next, so I took control of the bike again,
watching the street signs as I sped past. The apartment building I found seemed
fairly unremarkable, slightly higher end than normal, with a trendy little
coffee bar on the bottom. I parked the bike at the curb and hopped off, heading
inside to the bar, where one of the baristas was standing at the menu board,
typing commands on a data pad to change the daily special.
            "Excuse me... I was hoping you could help me. I'm looking for my
wife, Emma."
            He didn't look up from the pad. "Sorry, man. I'm a barista, not a
baby sitter."
            "I know, I'm very sorry. I just - I've been unable to contact her
for a few hours now, she said she was going to come here for coffee and I was
hoping you might have remembered serving her." I tried to remember Emma's face
from the poster outside the club. "She wears her dark hair in dreads, she has a
heart-shaped face and blue green eyes...."
            "I haven't seen your wife," he repeated, making another entry on
the pad.
            The other barista, however, cleared his throat from behind the bar.
"I'm sorry... what did you say your wife's name was? Emma? As in... Emma
Murdoch, the singer?"
            I hesitated for a moment, remembering what the bouncer had said
about the cops asking around about me. I didn't like the thinly veiled fear in
the barista's eyes. "No," I replied, "Emma Smith, though sometimes I wish she
was the singer. Beautiful woman. Thank you for your help, though."
            "I think I have seen her," the man behind the bar said suddenly,
his voice trembling. Before I could call him on it I felt a touch on my arm and
almost started.
            "Here you are, handsome. Was beginning to think you stood me up."
The woman was blonde and beautiful, curves hidden with a black leather coat,
hair in soft curls around her face. She winked at the baristas. "See you later,
gents. Keep some of that special light roast aside for me, hm?" She gave a
little tug to my arm. "Come on, mister."
            "Who are you?" I hissed as soon as we were out of sight of the
baristas.
            The woman's smile stayed warm and easy, but she didn't stop. "A
friend. I'll explain once we're out of sight, John.
            John?
            I let the name play in my mind as she reached the lifts, nodding to
a younger man who stood there waiting. "Leon, call Ben. Let him know we've
found John."
            He nodded. "Right away, May."
            "I'm sorry... May? How do you know my - is that really my name?"
            May gave me a little sad smile. "You really don't remember
anything, do you? You don't remember me?"
            "I've never seen you before in my life," I replied, following her
out of the lift as the boy - Leon - started trading low words with someone
through a phone.
            "It's probably for the best," May replied, pulling a key card out
of her purse and swiping an apartment door. She gave a little approving hum as
it unlocked, taking me inside and shutting it behind Leon. He tucked away the
phone and gave her a nod.
            "They're on their way here."
            "Good."
            The whole thing was just far too weird. "Who's coming here?"
            May placed a hand on my shoulder, light and sympathetic. "I know
this is probably confusing as hell for you. I haven't been awake long enough to
be able to explain it all to you very well - hell, I still don't understand
half of it myself. But the men who are coming are friends, they've been awake
for a lot longer. They'll answer any questions you might have, John."
            I shook my head. "Could you tell me how the hell you know my name?"
            "Because the doctor told me. And because I knew you before. Would
you like to take a seat?" The main room of the apartment was open, a small
seating area with a black leather couch and a dining room table. She pulled a
chair out from the table and sat, crossing one leg over the other. I chose to
remain standing, as did Leon, leaning back against the kitchen counter and
seeming a little uncomfortable.
            "The doctor," I repeated, and she nodded.
            "Was he there when you woke up? Underneath the city. He said you
woke up by yourself. Did you really?"
            I thought back to the man I'd met who'd told me to stay hidden,
warned me about the pale men in the dark coats. "Schreber.”
            May smiled. "Yes, exactly. Would you like something to drink?"
            Suddenly that sounded like a great idea, and I nodded, sitting down
wearily in one of the kitchen chairs. May produced a bottle of whiskey from one
of the kitchen cupboards, pouring a little in three glasses and passing one to
me. I sipped it, finding it a nice blended malt. I looked up at her. "So when
you say awake... you mean from those weird bed things we were in, the ones that
were all lit up.
            May nodded. "I'm still sleeping there, actually - he said there
wasn't time to get me out, I was too deep, and so I'm hidden down there in a
different bed controlling this shell. You and Leon are both real, though. That
interface on the back of your head is what allows you to hook in to control the
shells as well."
            I stared, then took another slow sip of whiskey. "Shells."
            "Yeah. They... oh dear, it's really best to just let the others
handle this."
            I let out a long breath and stood. "Look, thank you for your help,
but I can't stay here. I have to go find my wife - "
            May glanced back to Leon. "I don't think you should be out in
public at the moment," she said with a sigh, pulling a small viewing tablet
from her purse and handing it to me.
            I stared at the headline of the day's paper. "Nightclub celebrity
top suspect in serial killer case?" It was my own face on the paper! I almost
dropped the tablet. "That isn't me!"
            "I know. It's an experiment that they've set up. It's not real.
Nothing around us is real, that's where these shells fit in."
            "They?"
            "The pale men in the dark coats," she said again patiently. "The
Strangers. They probably let the scenario run because if the police catch you
it'll just make tracking you down easier."
            The Strangers. I shook my head. "I just don't understand. What the
hell do they want from me?"
            "They hunt down everyone who threatens the integrity of their
experiments," she said softly, and I didn't complain in the least when May
poured a little more whiskey in my glass. Finally a knock came at the door, and
the view screen beside the door showed two men - a blond with tousled hair and
a thinner, taller ginger beside him with a silver dragon perched on one
shoulder that was happily chewing at his hair. The blond looked strikingly like
the man I'd run into in the cold hallway under my city, the one who'd called
himself Schreber. May opened the door with a relieved sigh. "Thanks for getting
here so quickly, guys. My scan card still works for this apartment but Daniel
didn't say whether or not I'd been replaced. Might not be a good idea for us to
be here when the replacement me comes home with a client." Her lips quirked in
a smirk. "And if you'll excuse me for a moment, I really need to find some
underwear."
            I watched her leave with a little trepidation until the ginger
plopped down into her vacated seat, holding out a hand to me, his smile wide
but almost sad. "Larry Byrne. Glad to see you doing all right, John."
            I took his hand carefully, but found his grip firm and warm. "I'm
sorry... do I know you?"
            "Not now," he replied with a little shrug and a smile. "But we were
friends once, some time ago. It's a bit of a complicated explanation, but we'll
get started." The other man was named Ben Carson, apparently the doctor's
brother, and I sat and listened as they tried to explain about the city - a
fantastical tale of experiments and avatars and multiple lifetimes,
explanations that I could hardly even begin to comprehend as being true.
            "I don't understand," I said finally, shaking my head. "Where do I
fit into this? You all remembered - I don't remember a thing."
            "You woke up on your own," Ben explained, watching me. "Daniel
thinks...."
            He was cut off by a knock at the door, and we all stiffened,
looking towards it. The view screen showed an older man in a neat suit, his
coat over one arm.
            "Shit! Cops!" Leon had jumped up with a soft curse as soon as the
knock had come, looking around wildly. "May - where do we hide him?"
            May was still for only a second before she was moving towards one
of the doors that lead off the seating room, taking charge. "Come with me.
Don't mind the toys. John, get down under the bed. Larry, think you could
pretend to be a client for me?"
            Larry tugged me into the bedroom with a grin. The room looked like
it was straight out of a fetish catalogue - everything done in muted wine and
black with LED candelabrum. There was a large glass curio cabinet that held a
collection of dildos, butt plugs, clamps and handcuffs laid out on velvet, with
a sonic sterilization unit on the bottom, and a rack with various sized whips
and flails. The bed had an impressive wrought iron frame, and there was also a
freestanding cross to match off to one side. His eyebrows quirked, obviously
impressed. "Sounds like a plan to me."
            "You should be a woman," Leon instructed. "As naked a woman as
possible. May, I gotta hide too, I know this guy...."
            The knock came at the door again. "Miss Jensen? This is the police,
we have a few questions to ask you."
            May grabbed up a long silk robe from the foot of the bed, tying it
on over her dress so that she looked rather naked underneath, other than the
boots. "Coming!"
            Larry bounced back onto the bed, and I couldn't help but stare as
his entire personage changed completely. His features became fine and sweet and
definitely feminine, and the simple black clothes he'd been wearing melted away
to reveal a very female, very nude body wearing nothing but thigh-high lace up
ballet boots and nipple clamps. He - she - lay back on the bed and reached up
to worm her hands into the straps that hung from the bed-frame, grinning at me
and giving a wink. "Don't stare, I know you're not into this. Get hidden,
handsome."
            "Come on!" Leon yanked on my hand, and I dropped to the floor,
wriggling under the bed and making sure the bed skirt was in place. Leon
crawled in beside me, closed his eyes and let out a long breath. I mentally
added this to my lists of things that were definitely more fucked up than
others.
            May had closed the door when she went out, but I could hear their
voices from the other room. "I do apologize for the intrusion. I'm Inspector
Bumstead."
            "Not at all, Inspector. May Jensen. This is a friend of mine, Ben
Carson."
            The inspector's voice sounded dryly amused. "You do get around,
don't you."
            "I have many friends. Just visiting one with my girlfriend."
            "Not your boyfriend?"
            "He's otherwise engaged. How can we help you, Inspector?"
            "Just following up on a tip. Is this gentleman the only... friend
you've seen tonight, Miss Jensen?"
            "And his girlfriend? Yes of course."
            "I don't suppose I could take a look around?"
            "You're welcome to take a look around, but you might get an
eyeful."
            "Noted." I heard footsteps cross the apartment, headed away from
us, and tried not to breathe. Why the hell had I thought that the old hiding
under the bed trick would work? Why the hell had I gone with these people in
the first place?
            The bedroom door opened, and I heard someone give a choked cough.
"... Ah. Pardon me, miss...."
            Beside me, Leon's shoulder's shook with silent laughter. Above us I
heard Larry give a little appreciative noise, his - her - voice a low, husky
alto. "Oh hello, handsome. Are you one of May's friends come to play?"
            "Pet..." I heard May's boots tap across the floor, followed by the
loud smack of skin on skin and a surprised gasp. "I told you, no speaking
without permission. Do you understand?"
            "Yes, mistress May." Larry sounded genuinely surprised, and I
couldn't help but smile at the bizarreness of the situation.
            "Good. Apologize to the inspector."
            "I'm very sorry, Inspector."
            "Good. Speak out of turn again and I'll gag you, understood?"
            "Yes, mistress."
            Discomfort was evident in the Inspector's voice. "If I can take a
quick look around I'll be on my way."
            Shit. Why the hell were we under the bed? I heard his footsteps
cross to the bed and closed my eyes. Don't look, don't look, don't look....
            There was a moment of silence. "Well, I suppose I'll be on my way.
Thank you for your cooperation, Miss, and my apologies for... disturbing you."
I let out a sigh of relief, but when I opened my eyes, everything was still
completely dark, without the light that had been spilling through the skirt on
the bed. I was vaguely aware of them talking in the other room, of the
inspector warning May about the man they were looking for targeting party girls
like her, and then silence.
            "Ben?" I could hear Larry shift off the bed above us, then crash
onto the floor. "Jesus Christ, how the hell does anyone walk in these?"
            The bedroom door opened, and May sounded amused. "They're called
fuck me boots for a reason."
            Larry's voice was masculine when he spoke again. "How the hell did
he not see them?"
            "See for yourself," May replied.
            I'd reached out as they spoke, trying to find the edge of the bed
and the bed skirt. Instead my hand encountered something smooth and hard, which
didn't budge when I pushed against it or even banged on it. "Hey - what the
hell is going on here?"
            Ben's voice was reassuring. "Hang on, we'll lift the bed. Lar? One,
two..."
            Light flooded under the bed, and I crawled out between them,
offering a hand to Leon to help him out. I stared at the wooden rim that now
ran all the way around the bottom of the bed behind the bed skirt. "How the
hell did your bed do that?"
            "How did my bed do that?" May looked back at me as she took off her
robe, draping it over the black leather chair that sat against the wall. "Beds
don't randomly grow extra bits."
            "Well, it wasn't like that when we went under it," I shot back,
rubbing my hands over my eyes before looking at Larry. "And how the fuck did
you just turn into a naked woman?"
            "The Strangers didn't catch on to me because I remembered," he
started slowly. "I learned how to access the machines they use to change what
we look like, change the shells. But that's made to be manipulated by a human,
and I can only do it when I'm still asleep and hooked up to the machine like I
am now. But you managed to escape completely on your own. You got yourself out
of the underground, you got yourself clothes, and now..." he made a little
motion towards the bed. "Your mind has evolved even farther, you're protecting
yourself with the kind of powers the Strangers have. The powers they use to
keep us captive."
            "I didn't do that," I replied, shaking my head. "It's not possible,
it's not...." But wasn't it? I remembered suddenly these clothes that had
appeared for me when I'd woken up, that convenient escape shaft behind the pod,
the hatch that had disappeared into the concrete.
            Ben gave a little sigh, shaking his head. "We need to talk to
Daniel."
            "When's he going to show up, though? I mean, we can try to stay
here, but if there really is another May kicking around we could be discovered
at any time...."
            "But where else do we go if we leave?"
            Something clicked into place as I listened to them, and I turned to
Ben. "Daniel. Your brother? Daniel Schreber?"
            "Of course," Ben replied, eyebrows knitting together. "He can
control Shells temporarily to contact us, but - "
            "Does he have an office?" I cut him off, finding the paper card in
my pocket and offering it to him. "One of the bouncers at the nightclub said
this had been left for me."
            His eyebrows rose slightly as he scanned it. "I wasn't aware he had
an office in the city."
            "I think I saw him once, actually." May's lips pursed slightly as
she thought about it. "I knew who he was when I woke up."
            Ben gave a little decisive nod, handing the card back to me. "It'll
have to be less risky than staying here. Let’s go."


            We'd elected to leave my stolen bike outside the apartment building
and walk to the address on the card, which was conveniently enough only a few
blocks away. It seemed simpler than having to hail a cab, easier to hide me in
the middle of a group of people. Before leaving I watched Larry shift forms
again, turning into a mirror image of Ben in a stylish deep blue suit with a
black overcoat, peeling off the clothes and handing them to him. More
nondescript office wear instead of the more trendy clothes he'd been wearing.
He looked to me. "You need something less flashy too. Any requests?"
            I shook my head slowly, still floored from witnessing the whole
thing. It was even weirder when he turned himself into me, smirking, stripping
down. I found myself holding a dark olive trench coat, soft charcoal slacks and
a gray wool jacket, a sage green shirt to go underneath. I pondered changing in
the bedroom, then decided it would be less traumatizing to change out here and
started stripping down with Ben.
            Leon had been quiet since the police inspector had left, but
finally spoke as he watched us change. "Hey Larry... think you could get me a
uniform?"
            Larry quirked an eyebrow. "Uniform...."
            "Cops. Specifically for precinct twelve, homicide unit. I can talk
the talk if needs be, might give us an edge if we need to get out of a tight
spot." He paused for a moment. "I used to work for that guy."
            Larry quirked an eyebrow, changing as requested. "I thought he was
your..."
            "I didn't say it was without scandal." He gave a small, sad smile.
"He's a good guy. Wish we could trust the cops to keep us safe."
            Ben nodded, watching Larry as he changed into a smartly uniformed
version of Leon and began to strip. "Just remember what Daniel said. Especially
now. If he remembers you...."
            "I won't put him at risk," Leon replied quietly, stripping down as
well and changing into the clothes Larry had provided.
            May had disappeared into the other room and came back out in a soft
leather jumpsuit, buttoning a deep wine jacket on over the top. She glanced us
up and down. "Very nice, boys. Let’s get going, I have a regular that usually
comes over around eleven."
            "Noted." Larry had shifted back to the woman he'd been in bed,
though he was thankfully much less naked this time, wearing a copy of May's
outfit with a dark blue coat. He gave her a grin, and the little dragon that
had been perched on Ben's shoulder settled back around his neck like a small
silver scarf, giving a happy little trill.
            We set out, Leon a few paces in front of us, followed by Ben and
Larry - should I be calling him something else, I wondered? - and May and I in
the rear, May's arm linked through mine. "I want to apologize to you," she said
quietly, walking closer to me.
            I felt my eyebrows knit together. "Why?"
            May gave a soft sigh, silent for a moment as we walked. "I'm not
sure you were supposed to be here at all. I was Emma's husband before, but I
couldn't adapt to the gender switch. So they took me out and put you in my
place. But when I met Emma again..." her words trailed off, cherry red lips
pursed in dismay. "I couldn't forget the love I had for her. Daniel says it
seems to be the only thing stronger than these damn experiments, love. I had an
affair with your wife." Her hand gripped my arm a little tighter as she looked
up at me. "You found out, you were... very hurt. And then the Strangers came. I
heard them talking about using it to form this experiment, to make you a serial
killer... but you hadn't hurt anyone, John. I'm sorry for taking your wife from
you. I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble."
            Her words didn't really make anything less confusing for me. I
found myself shaking my head. "If everything really is what you say it is...
with these experiments and everything... then I'm the one that took your wife
from you."
            Before she could reply Leon did an abrupt about face ahead of us,
looking panicked. He grabbed Larry's arm, pulling him back towards the door to
the store were in front of, a movie rental place on the corner of the building.
"Hide!"
            "What - " Ben started, but Larry pushed him towards the store as
May pulled me inside, past the racks of movie displays to the back of the room.
            "Strangers," Leon hissed, pointing to a gap between video displays
where we could see out the windows into the street. We just gotten a block from
the apartment building, and it wasn't a bad hiding place for a last minute
choice - movie rentals were all automated, and the windows to the store were
covered in holographic displays only visible from the outside boasting this or
that newest title, so we couldn't be seen from the street. What I could see was
dozens of those strange pale men in the dark coats like the ones that accosted
me in the alleyway.
            "How the fuck did they know we were here?" Ben's voice was low and
angry. "I'm going to see if there's a back door to this place."
            "They're checking everyone," Leon said softly, voice tight with
obvious fear. There were people on the sidewalk across the street, and as we
watched they were approached by a pair of the pale faced men. The Strangers.
One of them held a hand out towards them, fingers outstretched like the one in
the alley had done, and they collapsed to the ground to be thoroughly examined.
More Strangers poured out of the doors of the building, shaking their heads,
and moved on to the next. Some had turned the corner on the other side of the
street, searching more people, and even the hover cars that went by seemed to
obediently descend down to land on the street and be searched.
            "No other way out of here," Ben replied as he returned, angry, but
I'm sure it was to cover his fear.
            "Only a matter of time before they reach the store," Larry said
softly, pressed close to Ben. "They'll see John immediately when they do, and
they'll know that you two are awake. They'll know about Daniel. Probably trace
May and I, too."
            "If I go on alone they won't care about you," I said slowly, but
Ben grabbed my arm tightly.
            "Don't even think about it. We're here to protect you, so don't go
doing any crazy self-sacrifice."
            May's voice was soft behind me. "If we could get into the office
across the street... it connects to the next building over. The maintenance
room connects into the old subway system, we should be able to use it to get
closer to the office... or at least get away." When I glanced back she gave a
little shrug. "My clients have strange fetishes sometimes."
            I looked out into the street. There were still a few parked hover
cars on the road, but not nearly enough to provide the kind of cover we'd need.
Even if I could coax these strange abilities into manifesting, wouldn't they
notice? "I don't think we can get there without them seeing us."
            "We have to do something," Ben shot back. "When they get to this
store and find us here that's it for all of us."
            May was still eying the hover cars, chewing on her bottom lip. "If
we go one at a time... you could give John a hat and we'll go as a couple,
maybe they wouldn't look closely enough...."
            "It won't work." Larry's voice was soft and low, and I turned
towards him, finding him looking like himself again. He grabbed the front of
Ben's shirt and pulled him into a kiss, hard and trembling. Then he stepped
back, shoving the dragon on his shoulder into his hands. "Love you," he said in
response to Ben's questioning look. "Keep John safe." Then before anyone could
react, I was looking at a mirror image of myself darting out the door of the
shop and back towards the apartment building
            "Lar - !" Ben surged forward, and would have reached the door had
May not caught his arm, twisting it around behind his back and shoving him into
one of the video displays in a surprising show of agility. He struggled against
her regardless, pushing back from the display and trying to twist his arm from
her grasp. The dragon had launched from his shoulder and flown against the
door, wings beating furiously, claws scrabbling at the glass. "Fucking let go!
He can't go on his own, I won't let him - LET GO! Larry!"
            Outside, our pursuers had already taken note, streaming out of
buildings and into the street, rushing like a black wave through the street in
the direction Larry had gone. I heard three loud bangs that sounded strangely
like old fashioned gunfire, and then what I rather hoped was the roar of my
hover bike. Ben managed to throw off May, knocking over a display rack in the
process, and ran out into the street with a - god, did he actually have a gun?
The Strangers were gone, though, a wave of black in the distance behind the
bright blur of a hover bike, leaving only three fallen black bodies behind. The
dragon took off down the road, but came winging back after half a block, crying
mournfully.
            May grabbed Ben's arm, pulling him towards the other side of the
street and the building she'd indicated earlier. "Ben, don't let this be in
vain! Come on!"
            I followed, Leon's hand on my back to propel me into the building
after them. May lead the way through the maze of hallways and stairwells.
Finally we came to a maintenance door that was unlocked, finding a rickety
flight of metals stairs behind it that was more like a ladder that lead down
into darkness. There were a pair of flashlights hanging on hooks at the top of
the stairs, and May handed them to Ben and me before disappearing down into the
darkness. A few moments later there was a click, and bare, old fashioned
tungsten bulbs lit to illuminate the space. It was rough and unfinished with
boilers and copper pipes, the floor encrusted with dirt. May looked back at us
as we descended the stars, then slipped back behind a boiler. "The access hatch
is here, I just need to jimmy the lock. Give me a moment."
            I nodded, watching Ben. "Ben... I'm so sorry...."
            "Please don't say anything," he replied, voice low and rough. "I
can't talk about it now. We just need to keep moving."
            I nodded, turning the flashlight over and over in my hands,
watching Ben's dragon circle the basement slowly, letting out sad little cries
every so often. Ben finally held his hand out, gathering the dragon to his
chest when it landed on his arm, stroking one broad hand down its scales, over
and over. He made a soft sound that I'm sure was meant to be soothing, but
didn't sound any less heartbroken than the dragon.
            May slipped out from behind the boiler with a frustrated growl,
brushing dust off her coat. "They fixed the damn lock, I can't get it open.
John, you think you can have a go?"
            I stared at her blankly. "I've never picked a lock in my life."
            "Just go try. Maybe... something will happen?" She shrugged and
gave a smile.
            I sighed, slipping back behind the boiler. The door in question was
metal and quite solid, narrow, and I wondered why they hadn't just filled it in
with concrete. The lock was an old fashioned key lock, a little rusty, with
scratches around the key hole from, I supposed, May's attempts to open it. I
yanked on it helplessly, staring down at the lock. I tried to remember what the
tickle in the back of my mind had felt like when I'd found the clothes, when
I'd hidden Leon and I from the inspector, but all I got was a frustrating
nothing. It was like answering a math question correctly by fluke but having no
idea how to solve the problem a second time. I resisted the urge to yell at it
and slid out from behind the boiler. "I can't do shit. I don't know why the
hell you all think I'm worth protecting when - "
            The maintenance door opened above us, and we all froze. A young man
slowly descended the steps, one I didn't recognize, small and slight with mousy
coloured hair. He stopped on the bottom step and looked to Ben, his voice
hoarse. "I'm looking for Francis."
            "Daniel." The name was half sobbed, and Ben pulled him down off the
bottom step and into his arms, holding him tightly.
            "I can't find him. Ben, I tried. I can't find him. I'm so sorry. Oh
god...."
            "Shhh..." Ben's eyes were clenched shut, and I could see the tremor
that ran through him, hear it in his voice. "I know you did, liebling. I know."
            "Isn't it a good thing if you can't find him?" Leon's voice was
hopeful. "I mean, if he's not where you think he is then they can't find him
either, right?"
            "I don't know." The boy's voice was rough, helpless. "I had him in
an unused pod, one where the occupant had been killed a long time ago. They
wouldn't have been able to find him unless they'd gotten a hold of his shell to
trace him back there directly. If The Strangers found him and took him away
they aren't telling me. I'm not certain they completely trust me at the
moment."
            "But he could be hiding somewhere, right?" Leon pressed, hands
clenched so tightly into fists that his knuckles were white. "He could have
gotten out before they came for him - "
            "I don't know if even he could wake himself out of cryogenic sleep,
only John - " Daniel started, and Ben gave a firm shake of his head.
            "Enough. I can't talk about the what if's right now. Is there any
way for us to get below and search for him?"
            Daniel shook his head. "Even if I could get you down there, without
the fully trained ability to tune it would be impossible to navigate the
Underneath. Our best hope is to keep them so busy looking for John that their
group mind is too distracted to remember about him."
            "Looking for me, hm?" All of a sudden everything boiled over - this
fear, this frustration, the guilt at knowing that Larry had sacrificed himself
because of me. "I think it's time you gave me some answers, Doctor. How did I
wake up? How am I doing all of this? And how the hell do we get out of this
place?"
            Daniel regarded me quietly for a moment, expression sombre. "All
right. I will give you all the answers that you seek. But I must leave for now,
the night's Tuning will begin soon and I must be there. I will meet you in the
change room of the bath house at 513 K street next cycle at 6. You should be
safe to stay here until then, they have recently searched this area. Do not do
anything to draw attention to yourselves."
            "Doctor Schreber?" Leon's voice was soft and tentative. "I want to
be able to get into my old precinct if I need to. Larry gave me - " he paused
for a moment and swallowed, "this uniform, and it looks like all my credentials
and access cards are good with it. There's an officer in homicide - Greg
Beardsley - if he could maybe be sick for a bit...."
            Daniel nodded, a little distracted. "Yes, yes of course. I will
take care of it. Just be careful, please." He turned back to Ben at that,
cupping his face gently. "I'm so sorry, mein Herz. Ich liebe dich."
            Ben nodded silently, visibly just barely holding himself together,
and pressed a kiss to Daniel's forehead. "Be safe."
            He nodded. "Keep John safe. I will see you soon."
            With Daniel gone, Ben took to pacing back and forth in the
basement, the dragon draped limply over his shoulders. I perched on a stack of
crates and tried to concentrate on a piece of splintered wood on the ground,
tried to pull my mind back to that feeling. If I could move it or change it....
            I heard a crackle from Ben's direction, the flare of a match, and
glanced over to find him with a white stick in his mouth, holding the flame to
the end. It gave off a heavy, bitter smelling smoke, which he inhaled deeply,
than exhaled in a long sigh. It was strangely familiar to watch him do it,
though it took a moment for my mind to identify the act. "Cigarettes?"
            "Mmm. Something from long before this time. Nasty habit. These
things'll kill you." He gave a soft sigh, stopping at the base of the stairs
and looking up them. "I wish I knew what he had planned...."
            "Hopefully he has a plan," May remarked with a little frown.
            Ben opened his mouth to retort, but his watch beeped. He sat down
on the stairs. "Shit. Two minutes to midnight, you guys better get comfy."
            I watched him sit down on the stairs, and Leon slipped to the floor
beside me, folding his arms on one of the crates and resting his head on them.
"Lean up against something, it's easier than falling over."
            I stared at him. "Falling over?"
            "Asleep," he replied. "Every midnight and... noon. Midnight. It's
when they change the city and people's identities. May, get comfy."
            May gave a little frown, regarding the dirt on the floor with a
frown before dragging a crate to the wall, sitting down and leaning back. Then
Ben's watch beeped again and the three of them collapsed simultaneously into
deep sleep.
            I stood, slowly, remembering what things had been like when I'd
gone up into the mall and found everyone there like this. So it was a regular
thing? I looked down at them as they slept, feeling a surge of guilt. Keep John
safe. Why was I so much more important than any of them?
            One thing I knew for sure: I couldn't keep putting them in danger.
Maybe it was time to look for some answers on my own.
            I picked up the piece of wood I'd been staring at, bending down to
scratch at the dirt next to Leon. "Sorry," I wrote, then headed upstairs and
into the sleeping city.

***
***** Frank Bumstead *****
Frank Bumstead

            "Inspector Bumstead?"
            I looked up from my desk, glad for the distraction. The case I was
working on was horrific, and no matter how many times I looked at the details
it just didn't seem to make any sense. I took my glasses off, resisting the
urge to rub my temples. The young officer at the door wasn't one I remembered
meeting before, though he seemed strangely familiar. "Come in. Officer...."
            "Husselbeck," he replied after a moment. "Officer Beardsley called
in sick, I'm afraid, so they've sent me up to help you with the Murdoch case
for now."
            Husselbeck. I'd heard that name before, I was fairly sure. "Thank
you. Do you know any of the details of the case?"
            "Sorry, sir. Just what the papers have reported." He seemed
nervous, so I crossed the room to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
            "Don't worry, homicides aren't as scary as they seem. I'll be with
you the whole time. I'm grateful for you offer to help."
            He looked up at me, and for a moment seemed a hairsbreadth from
tears. Then he seemed to pull it together, giving me a wide smile. "Thank you,
sir. I'm just flattered to work with you, that's all. I've heard a lot about
your past cases. You're the best we have."
            It was a fairly common sentiment, even if I wasn't completely sure
of its accuracy. I gave a nod in acknowledgment if not in agreement. "Grab your
jacket, then, Husselbeck. Going back to do a follow up interview. Something's
not sitting right with me. I'll fill you in on everything on the way."
            "Yes sir," he replied. "Thank you."
            He was waiting by my car when I met him in the parkade, and sat
quietly on the ride over while I filled him in. "There's been six victims so
far, with the last being found at the beginning of the last first half. She was
in a hotel room rented under his name. The victim before that was four halves
ago, but there was a week between her and the previous victim. I'm concerned
that he's escalating, that there will be another woman killed if we can't find
him soon.”
            "And you're sure it's this Murdoch guy, sir?" Husselbeck asked, and
I nodded slowly.
            "Sure enough that I can't afford to overlook him. It fits the time
frame. I spoke with his wife last half, she couldn't account for his
whereabouts for any of the first four murders, and he's been completely missing
for the last three days. They were inseparable, but she had an affair. I'm sure
it's the stressor that made him start killing. He's taking his anger at his
wife on women who he sees as having as little morals as she does. And we have
DNA from him at three of the crime scenes."
            "Why the type, though? The victims are all blond. Emma Murdoch is a
brunette, I've seen her pictures at the nightclub."
            I shook my head. Admittedly it was one of my own misgivings. "It's
not something we see commonly in serial killers, certainly. One theory is that
perhaps he can't bring himself to admit that he's angry at her. One is that
he's choosing targets that resembled his mother. Perhaps she had an affair when
he was young and this has reopened old wounds."
            I lead the way into the apartment building and up the lift to the
floor I'd interviewed the hooker on, with the officer following. When we
stepped off the lift, though, something seemed wrong. I could see the door to
her apartment slightly ajar, and I held a hand up to motion Husselbeck to keep
behind me, drawing my shock pistol from its shoulder holster and moving towards
the door cautiously. Discretion was thrown to the wind, however, at the high
pitched sound of a woman's scream, and I kicked the door open. "Freeze!
Police!"
            What I found was a too-familiar dark-haired woman, who froze at the
door to the main bedroom, hands pressed to her mouth. She turned to me and
raised her hands slowly, eyes bright with tears, shaking like a leaf.
"Inspector...."
            I lowered the gun. "Why are you here, Mrs. Murdoch?"
            Emma let out a shuddering breath. "I heard from an acquaintance
that he'd come here. That he'd been following me here. The men at the coffee
bar said he'd left with her. I just wanted to talk to her, I just wanted - I
wanted to talk to her, see if she could help me find him...." She drew a
shuddering breath. "She's - I knew her. I - "
            Knew? I didn't like the sound of that. With a sinking heart I moved
to her, looking past her into the room and gave a soft groan. The blond woman
I'd spoken with earlier was there, chained to the very bed she'd had her client
tied to. She was wearing nothing but a red silk robe that had been torn open,
her head fallen to the side, blue eyes sightless and glassy. And the tell-tale
sign of my killer - spiral shapes mutilating her skin, carved bright red into
her naked flesh. I urged Emma down to sit at the kitchen table, finding the
replicator and using a tissue to punch in a command for a glass of ice water.
When I pressed it into her hand she looked up at me dazedly, blinking,
seemingly unaware of the tears that escaped to roll down her cheeks.
            "You knew her?" I asked softly. It wasn't that Emma Murdoch had
been uncooperative, but I'd gotten the sense that she'd been holding something
back through this whole thing.
            Emma gave a shaky nod. "I... I loved her. But I don't remember her.
I don't know her name or where I met her, but I - I remember what it felt like
to kiss her...." She drew a shivering breath, hands wrapped around the glass
without drinking. "What's going on, Inspector?"
            I stayed standing, but leaned down a little. "Mrs. Murdoch, was she
the one you had your affair with? The one your husband discovered?"
            Emma shook her head. "No. No, his name was Maison Jennings, he was
an artist in Center Q that did a lot of work on my dreads. He moved away a week
ago. I was saying goodbye to him when John caught us."
            "Maison Jennings?" I raised an eyebrow. The similarity in names
couldn't be coincidental. "Have you ever been with a woman before?"
            "Never. But...." her breath grew faster as she looked back towards
the door. "I remember her. How do I remember her?"
            I heard a soft moan from the bedroom doorway, and glanced up to
find that the young officer who was with me had crossed to look in at the body.
He was shaking his head slowly, very pale. "Oh god. This wasn't supposed to
happen...."
            I moved to tug him away from the door gently. I'd seen too many
officers go green over their first dead body. "Husselbeck, can you step outside
and put in a call for a forensics team? 1440 east Fifth Street, apartment three
eleven. It's going to be hell going through fingerprints and DNA and trace from
an apartment like this, but all we need is to establish that Murdoch was
here..."
            "That won't be necessary, sir." He glanced back towards the room,
letting out a shaky breath. "Murdoch was here, and I was with him. But he
didn't kill May. He's being set up."
            I quirked an eyebrow, watching him calmly and trying to decide what
to do with the revelation. The idea of it buzzed angrily in the pit of my
stomach, but at the same time this young officer didn't seem capable of
malicious intent if his life depended on it. "Explain."
            Husselbeck swallowed hard. "We were protecting him - myself and May
and the two others that you saw here with May. There's these group of men, they
all look the same, like a cult - long dark coats and pale skin - "
            "And they cover their baldness with wide black hats!" Emma was the
last person I expected to collaborate, and she turned around to us, eyes wide
through her tears, fingers pressed to her mouth. "Oh god, I saw them! One of
them came to talk to me, he knew so much about John...."
            I nodded slowly, carefully noting their story, trying to decide
what to make of it. I glanced back to Husselbeck. "So why did you come to me,
then? I'm not even going to ask how you got into the precinct, I'm assuming
you're not a cop. Beardsley is all right, I trust?"
            The boy nodded. "We lost track of John, he escaped from us. We
split up to try and look for him. May came here in case he came back, and I
came to you in the hopes that you would find him...."
            I regarded him silently for a moment, then gave a nod. "All right.
For now I'll believe you enough to accept your help. But I can't let you keep
your weapon. Or your badge."
            Husselbeck handed both over without hesitation, but instead of a
stun gun he handed me what looked like an old fashioned pistol. I felt my jaw
drop. "What on earth is this?"
            "Pistol. Exploding ammo. A shot to the head is the only way to kill
the Strangers. The white faced men."
            "A lethal weapon?"
            "I surrendered it to you, didn't I?"
            I made sure the safety was on and tucked it into the shoulder
holster that had held my stun gun, tucking the latter in my pocket with his
badge. I pushed Husselbeck up against the wall and patted him down, stepping
back when I was reasonably certain he wasn't carrying anything else that could
be dangerous. "All right. Call for the homicide unit and we'll get Mrs. Murdoch
home. Then we'll go from there."
            "Excuse me, but... who the hell are you?"
            I turned towards the door, stun gun in hand, but lowered it when I
saw the unfamiliar blond woman who stood there, arms folded angrily across her
slender frame. I pulled out my badge instead. "Inspector Frank Bumstead, miss.
I'm afraid you can't come in, there's been a homicide. Your name, please?"
            The woman's mouth twisted angrily. "I'm May Jensen. I live here.
This is my apartment."


            If I'd thought things were out of place before Husselbeck appeared
in my office, they only got stranger from there. With forensics teams at the
apartment to examine the dead May Jensen and the living May Jensen being
interviewed by a sketch artist, Husselbeck and I took Emma Murdoch back to her
apartment. Our suspect was there when we arrived, waiting for her. I caught him
in the hallway of the building before he could flee, drawing the pistol without
realizing and cursing inwardly. Emma had stationed herself between him and me,
face still flushed from crying. I couldn't risk hurting her. "Stand aside, will
you please?"
            Murdoch held both hands up, taking a cautious step down the hall.
"I didn't kill anyone."
            "What you are is a suspect. Turn yourself in and I'll listen to
whatever you have to say."
            Murdoch shook his head, eyes darting to the officer behind me.
"You're not going to believe what I have to say."
            "Try me. Better yet, let me guess. There's a group of men after you
that all dress in long black coats and hats and shave themselves bald. They're
setting you up. Would be nice if you could tell me why, or why there's living
and dead versions of May Jensen - "
            "They got May?" The colour drained from his face, and Emma burst
into a fresh round of sobs.
            "We split up to look for you," Husselbeck said quietly behind me.
"She went back to the apartment. Ben went to your club, but I haven't heard
from him. I went to see if the police had found you...."
            Murdoch took another step backwards. "I'll come peaceably on the
following conditions. Only you and him deal with me, question me, whatever, I
don't want to be shuffled around to a dozen cops. You keep me safe from those
men, and you let me meet with my Psychiatrist."
            "Deal," I replied, and cuffed him.
 
            Back at the precinct, with Murdoch booked and processed, I met with
him in an interrogation room. I'd brought with me the evidence from the
murders, but everything seemed to genuinely baffle him. "I didn't kill these
women. May told me she was having an affair with Emma. But I'd only found out
two turns ago. The Strangers decided to use it as part of their experiments."
            I remembered what Emma had said when I'd found her in the apartment
with the dead woman and shook my head slightly. So they had their story
straight, at least. "Experiments?"
            The story he told me was impossibly fantastical. Aliens and
experiments, identities being erased and replaced. I cut him off half way
through, shaking my head. "Don't play games with me, Murdoch. You can't expect
me to believe all this."
            "You promised you'd listen to me," he shot back, green eyes holding
my gaze seriously. "Let me ask you something. Have you heard of a place called
Shell Beach?"
            "Of course."
            "Do you know how to get there?"
            I couldn't understand what he was getting at. "Yeah. You just take
main street west to the...." I stopped, mind drawing a blank. "I'm sorry, it's
been a while."
            "How do you get out of the city, then? You must be able to tell me
that."
            "It's been a while," I repeated, but at the same time I could
suddenly understand the strangeness of the situation. It should be an easy
drive to leave the city, there should be dozens of ways. Why couldn’t I think
of a single one?
            "You never leave the city for conferences? You never pursue a
suspect outside the city walls? Inspector, I checked all the maps, I've spent
the last few hours trying to find my way out. There are no roads out of the
city. The only way out is to by Shell Beach by the sky train, and conveniently
the train is an express that doesn't stop at a single train station. How is
that possible?"
            "It must be a mistake," I said slowly, but he shook his head
            "Wait, I have a better one. That officer that was with you, you
said he told you about everything - helping me, not really being an officer.
Right? So tell me, Inspector. Why is someone who's impersonated an officer to
help a suspect in a serial killer case sitting in your office right now with
full access to all of your files?"
            "He's not a risk," I found myself saying, but at the same time it
didn't make sense. Of course he was a risk. How the hell had I....
            "Emotion overpowers logic," John said softly. "It overpowers the
programming. The people that were helping me all had lives in the city before
they woke up and escaped. Leon worked for you. Part of you still knows that
even now. Part of you trusts him despite logic telling you not to. Please
believe me. If they find me they'll kill me, just the same as they do with
every other failed experiment. They'll kill Leon when they find him too."
            As if summoned, there came a hurried knock on the door and
Husselbeck's voice. "Sir? Inspector, open up, please!" He was out of breath
when I opened the door, panicked. "They're here. We have to get John out of
here. Now."

***

***** John and The Strangers *****
John Murdoch

            I wasn't entirely sure how I convinced the Inspector to believe me.
Maybe it was something in the talk of Leon. Or maybe it was the glimpse we got
of the Strangers inside the precinct as he and Leon whisked me out the back
door and into Frank's car, speeding away. It was a quarter to six, then. The
timing couldn't have been better. Time to meet Daniel.
            Standing in a dimly lit bath house change room, I stared at the man
in front of me. He was just as I'd seen him the first time, at the beginning of
this nightmare, except now he wore a suit instead of a lab coat, smartly
tailored dark brown. The steel bands still coiled up his legs, keeping him
hovering an inch or so above the ground, though he still seemed smaller, far
frailer than I.
            "Doctor Schreber? Don't you think it's about time you started
giving me some answers?"
            He seemed flustered, almost nervous, and nodded. "Yes, yes of
course. Will you please sit down?" He sat himself, the metal around his legs
moving fluidly as he sank down onto the bench behind him. "We are reasonably
safe here for the time being. The strangers have an aversion to water, you see.
One could almost call it a phobia. They don't like coming here."
            I nodded, sitting down awkwardly. "Who are they? Why are they
trying to kill me?"
            "You are the biggest threat to their experiments so far, John. You
have their abilities. They call it Tuning, it is how they make the buildings
change. So far you have only acted on instinct, a reflex, but I can teach you
to control it. Please trust me, John. Together we can stop them, we can take
the city back. We can end this nightmare so that no one else has to die. With
your abilities - "
            "My abilities? So I can be like them?" The idea of being like these
men, being able to change the very earth around me just with the power of my
mind was terrifying.
            "No. Never like them. You are human. Only you can put a stop to all
of this."
            I shook my head slowly. "I've seen them. You can't expect me to
believe that I could win against all of that. I'm not staying in this city."
            Daniel gave a soft sigh, then stood. The door to the change stall
behind him opened to reveal his brother, his pistol cocked and levelled at me.
"Don't move."
            Daniel took a device out of the pocket of his jacket, something
that looked a bit like an old fashioned doctor's syringe, but done in brass and
glass instead of surgical steel. "I'm sorry about this, I truly am, but we do
not have much time and I cannot afford the luxury of doing this the right way.
Everything you need to know, all the answers you've been looking for are in
this data transfer device. I need to inject you with it. It's the only way to
help you understand."
            I stared at them both, torn between feeling incredulous and
betrayed. "... you're kidding me, right?"
            "We're running out of time, John! We need to do this now!"
            I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, Frank
entering the change room behind them silently. "Put down the gun."
            Ben didn't flinch or move his eyes from me. Daniel stated though,
turning. "If you kill me, they'll be here in an instant."
            "And what about him?" Frank questioned calmly, shifting just a
little to sight the pistol at Ben, stepping forward slowly until the muzzle of
the gun touched the back of his neck just above the metal plate. "Drop the
gun."
            "Fuck off," Ben replied with a low growl. "Or go ahead and shoot
me. We're all fucked anyway if he won't do this."
            "Do as he says, mein Herz, please...." Daniel looked close to
tears, and after a moment the other man sighed, tossing the pistol across the
bench and out of reach.
            I snatched the syringe from Daniel's hand. "What exactly is in
this?"
            "All the answers you've been looking for. I swear it. Please...."
            "Or maybe you'll just wipe my memory and send me back to your
masters? Maybe I should hang onto it for now." I tucked it into the inside
breast pocket of my jacket. "Everything's too convenient when it comes to you.
So perhaps we should cut off your connection, hm?" I reached out without giving
him a chance to react, grabbing the cords that attached to the plate on the
back of his neck and yanking them out.
            The metal around Daniel's form uncoiled, starting with his hips and
traveling downwards. Daniel gave a little helpless cry and crumpled like a
marionette with its strings cut, twisting to grab at my shoulders to keep
himself upright. I caught him without thinking, just reacting, holding him
tight to me and feeling him shudder.
            "Please hook me back up," he whispered, hiding his face in my
shoulder. "I - I can't stand on my own."
            "What?" Daniel was practically dead weight in my arms apart from
the shudder that ran through him with each breath, and I held onto him more
tightly.
            "I tried to escape the city when they first took us," he replied,
voice harsh against my shoulder. "They caught me. They severed my spinal cord
and put me in that device to keep me from trying again. So they could keep
track of my whereabouts at all times." He swallowed hard, fingers digging into
my back. "John, please."
            I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling an unexpected surge of
helplessness and hatred at his words. Then I decided.
            "We're getting out of here. When we're out of the city we'll bring
help back."
            Daniel's soft laugh was more like a sob. "We can't leave the city."
            "We can, and we are. I'll carry you. Ben, help me."
            "You don't understand - " Daniel started, but gave up with a soft
sigh, closing his eyes as Ben helped support him until I could pull him up onto
my back. He was light, even for his size, and so much smaller than me that it
wasn't difficult. "Please reconsider," he begged one more time, but I shook my
head.
            "I'm sorry, Doctor. I think I've done things your way long enough.
We're doing this now."
            We settled Daniel in the car where Leon was waiting, and I could
hear him apologize for getting Frank involved, though Daniel shook his head.
"If you insist on doing this, Mr. Murdoch, then take the car up above the level
of the buildings. You'll need to follow the sky train out to Shell Beach."
            Ben was perched in the middle of the car, one of Daniel's hands in
both of his, only having eyes for his brother. "Daniel, I can't leave. Not
without knowing...."
            "It's all right," Daniel replied with a little sad smile, patting
his hand. "You won't have to."
            "But how can we look for him if we... god, liebling, I'm so sorry.
I'm so sorry. I'll kill them myself for doing this to you."
            Daniel simply nodded, closing his eyes and leaning into him more.
            When we reached the end of the train line, there wasn't even a
station, just a single express train cooling on a landing platform with no
passengers in sight. Frank set the car down on the ground in a space that
wasn't so much a street as an area paved in concrete lacking any buildings. It
seemed somehow… unfinished. I rounded the car when we landed, only to find Ben
already there, pulling Daniel onto his back. "He's my brother, I'll take him."
            "Sure," I agreed, then looked to Daniel. "Tell us where to go,
please."
            The path he directed us on wasn't long, though it certainly became
progressively stranger. The architecture and scenery around us became almost
impossible - diagonal walls and upside-down staircases, an ancient gasoline
powered car covered by rubble, an old blue telephone booth. Finally we turned
into a long narrow alleyway with a door at the end, and Ben stopped, leaning
against the wall.
            "You don't need us anymore. I've taken you as far as we will go,"
Daniel said, but Frank was already there, gun cocked.
            "You're coming with us until we're safely out. Can't have you
ringing any alarms in the meantime, can we? Move."
            Daniel looked to me helplessly, and despite not knowing his
alliances, his desperation was real. "John... please reconsider."
            "I'm sorry, Doctor. Come on." I said softly, genuinely regretful,
and set off for the door.
            I'm not sure what I expected to find. An opening in the city wall,
perhaps. A door out a beach, to the ocean, to grassland, open space. Something
other than the concrete jungle we were trying to escape. But when I opened the
door at the end of the alleyway I stepped through and stopped short. We stood
in an open courtyard filled with rubble and the same kind of strangeness I'd
seen outside. The other end of the courtyard, however, was sealed by a tall
brick wall with a giant painting on it, an old fashioned billboard with a
blonde pin-up girl.
            Ben had set Daniel down on the top of what looked like a brick
chimney coming out of the ground. "There is no ocean, John," the doctor said
softly, watching me. "There never was. The only place it exists is in your
head. It is impossible to leave the city."
            It couldn't be true. There had to be a way out. I moved forward to
touch the wall, the billboard paper stiff and brittle with age under my
fingertips. This was just another barrier, it had to be. I dug my fingers into
the paper and pulled, ripping it away in a rush of adrenaline. I could hear
Daniel crying out for me to stop, but I was too focused on this, catching up a
piece of pipe that lay nearby to smash at the brick. If there was no way out of
the city I'd make one myself. Frank joined me immediately with another piece of
pipe, smashing at the brick, pulling loose bits away with his hands, and after
a moment Leon did as well, brick dust coating his hands and the sleeves of his
neat uniform. It was too much brick, too slow, and in a surge of anger I felt
that tingle at the back of my mind, recognizing it just long enough to yank
them both back from the wall as my powers blew a hole in it, sending bricks and
mortar flying out... into the darkness of space.
            "Stars," Leon said softly, halfway between wonder and horror. I
couldn't blame him. When I looked down there was no ground, just a gray expanse
of building ending in nothingness. More stars. Above I could see the edge of
the black clouds that covered the city, the scorched atmosphere we all believed
was the result of a natural disaster.
            There was nothing beyond the city.
            There was nothing but the city.
            "Murdoch!" I turned at Ben's warning cry just as a group of
Strangers streamed in - six of them surrounding a dark haired woman wearing
nothing but gray panties and a tank top. Emma, I realized with a shock of fear,
though she was younger than I remembered, and her hair hung sleek and straight
in place of her dreadlocks.
            "So now you know the truth," the one that was holding her said. The
same one that had attacked me in the alley. He was different now, somehow,
somehow shrewder and less cold, but his voice still sent chills up my spine.
            Frank reacted immediately, drawing his pistol and firing twice
before it melted away to nothing in his grasp. He caught two of the Strangers
in the head, the gunpowder blowing huge craters in corpse white skulls,
blackened blood spattering everywhere. Then a third attacked him, trying to
overpower him frantically, throwing his weight against Frank until they both
tumbled towards the hole we'd made into space.
            "Frank!" Only Leon's frantic lunge for the Inspector kept him from
falling out with the Stranger, the young officer almost losing his balance
himself before yanking him back inside. We watched in horror as the Stranger
kept falling, floating out away from us into space.
            I turned back to the rest, my pipe raised. But the leader still had
Emma. "Surrender, Mr. Murdoch. Or it will result in this one's death, yes?"
            "She's not my wife," I shot back. "My entire life is a lie. Why the
hell should I care?"
            "But you do care, don't you, Mr. Murdoch?" he replied, the tip of
his blade nicking Emma's skin, drawing a helpless sob of pain from her lips.
            "That's the real her," Ben said softly from where he'd pulled
Daniel down behind the chimney for safety. "That's not her shell. He kills her,
she dies."
            The Stranger quirked an eyebrow. "Shall I kill her now, as you
would have?"
            Everything in me was screaming to run, to get away, to go anywhere.
But there had already been too much death for my sake. I lowered the pipe.
"Don't hurt her. Promise me you won't hurt anyone else."
            "We are only interested in you, Mr. Murdoch."
            I dropped the pipe, and he smiled triumphantly. "Sleep," he said,
stretching one hand, and the others tumbled around me. I felt a blur of
exhaustion wash over me, and fought it on instinct until the Stranger's eyes
narrowed, and I fell into darkness. "Now."



            I woke up to coldness, to the same strange dark metal world I'd
woken up in when this all began. This time I was restrained, though, bound on
my back with my arms and legs outstretched, tied to a strange metal wheel.
Surrounding me were dozens - maybe hundreds of the white faced men, though now
they made no attempt to hide their alien nature. The human trappings were gone,
leaving them in strange leather outfits adorned with belts and buckles. They
were talking about me, examining me, fingers cold on my skin.
            I tried to concentrate, tried to understand what they were saying.
Why wasn't I dead yet? It was an option I heard over and over. Then a low,
booming voice spoke, and I focused on the speaker - large, old, automatically
deferred to by each man around him. The leader. Mr. Book, they called him. I
was the answer to their experiments. An evolution. The key to unlocking the
mystery of the human soul.
            "It is time for our experiment to move into a new phase. We no
longer need the other subjects. The time for study is over."
            I could see Daniel behind him, moving slowly through the crowd,
looking pale and almost nauseous. When he got closer I realized why. They'd
locked him in some kind of upright cage that encased and supported his body,
but it could only move via a series of wheels turned by hand, and his legs
dragged limply along the floor as he moved. There was nothing but hatred in the
look he gave Mr. Book as he handed him a device that looked rather like the
syringe he'd tried to use on me, but black and spidery looking.
            "It is time, Doctor. Imprint."
            "What are you doing?" I managed to ask, looking at him as he stood
over me. He set the syringe on my chest, stretching a leather strap over my
head, fastening it in place.
            "They want to imprint you with their own collective memories," he
murmured, breathless from exertion. "They want to make you one of them. So they
can share your soul." His hand smoothed under my jacket, though, pulling out
something. The syringe I'd taken from him, I realized. Was he just hiding the
evidence?
            "Imprint, Doctor. No more disobedience."
            The frame I was bound to spun around before I could react, holding
me upright, and I felt Daniel's hand at the back of my neck, tugging down my
shirt collar. "I'm sorry, John. The pain will only last a moment."
            The twang of pain I'd felt when I'd inadvertently ripped the
connection from my neck was nothing compared to this, a searing, red hot pain
that went up into my skull. But with it came a surge of images - everything I'd
tried to remember and couldn't.
            The sunshine, playing in the sand with the blond haired boy. My
first memory upon waking. How had I not realized before that the boy was
Daniel? Then an adult Daniel gives me an ice cream cone, voice soft and
nonthreatening. Encouraging. He is handsome and whole, without any of the
machines or devices or the implant in his eye. I sit in my garden and listen to
him teach me how to access my abilities, to focus and control the tuning. How
to move things, how to create things. How to heal my body if I am injured. How
to understand the changes I can make to the very building blocks of matter.
            So many exercises, practicing how to Tune over and over. How to
levitate. The sun is warm and bright on my skin. Daniel is so young sometimes,
standing beside me in a back yard, staring up at a tree house I'm not allowed
to be in. I try to levitate up to it, but it doesn't work. Then we are sitting
together at a kitchen table with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and math
textbooks between us, Daniel's voice soft and patient as he walks me through
the steps of solving the problem. I look over to the back yard to see Ben and
Larry on the porch steps, sharing a cigarette and a kiss.
            On the steps of my own house, I draw hopscotch on the walkway with
a piece of chalk using only the power of my mind as the adult Daniel stands and
coaches me. A little girl with dark hair hops through the design and then
kisses me on the cheek, and a woman inside the house calls for John and Anna to
come to dinner.
            I sit in a school room, staring at schematics. Adult Daniel is my
teacher. "You are probably wondering why I keep appearing in your memories. It
is because I have inserted myself in them. All of these memories have been
fabricated in them in order to teach you about the Strangers. To give you a
lifetime of knowledge in a single syringe. This is the main machine that the
strangers use to amplify their thoughts, the machine that changes our world.
You must take control of it, you must make the machine yours. I know you can
beat them, John. But you must concentrate."
            I'm in the school hallway, then, almost an adult. I have a test
paper in my hand. I grin at the young Daniel. "Ninety five percent."
            He beams, and his smile sends a surge of joy through me. "I knew
you could do it, John." He throws his arms around me tightly, and suddenly I
want to push him back into the lockers and kiss him breathless.
            The information about the Strangers comes faster, then. The
parasites inside them. The nature of the experiments. How it all revolved
around the focal point of their group mind, their leader. Mr. Book. That's my
target, that's how I take control. And Daniel's encouragement. "The world can
be anything you make of it, John. This is your gift. You can change everything,
save everyone. But you must act. Now."
            "Something's wrong." I heard that cold voice speak, and a cry of
pain from the real Daniel. Something behind me smashed on the metal floor.
            A growl from Book. "What have you done?"
            It jarred me into action. A thought was all it took to break free
of the metal frame around me, to let it melt into nothingness. I reached for
the machine as I did, sensing all the components, reconfiguring it to respond
only to me. I turned to Daniel, smiling at the expectant hope there, and tuned
away that horrible cage, replacing the levitation device he'd had before and
reconnecting him to it. It was all the time I had for him, though, and I could
only trust he'd get away safely.
            My world then was a blur of power, of white faced men in leather,
of fighting them back. But I could handle these abilities as easily as
breathing now, act and react with a thought. Book and I were in the skies
before I knew it, minds pushing against each other, the strain of it a red hot
pain in the base of my skull. But loosing was not an option.
            I thought of Daniel, thought of what they'd done to him, to
everyone who had helped me. I remembered what Frank had said about them killing
May, making her another victim of my fake psychosis. I thought of Larry, who'd
sacrificed himself to save me and left Ben behind alone. The rush of anger was
exactly what I needed, and I threw Book's own knife back at him, sending him
careening through the air. Water destroys them, Daniel had said. I could do
that, too. A thought was all it took to create an old fashioned water tower in
his path, and as he crashed into it the structure it exploded in a burst of
water and steel, leaving the parasite inside him to escape with a scream,
turning to ash.

            There was an immediate calm that came with Book's death. The pull
I'd felt on the machines as they'd tried to take control of them died
completely. They were nothing without their focus.
            I closed my eyes and let myself descend down into the rubble of the
city, giving a soft sigh as my feet touched solid ground. There was a giant
clock in the middle of the area, half buried in the ground with its hands
pointed to midnight - yes, part of the machine. I could start it again and wake
the city, never to sleep again.
            "I knew you could do it, John." Daniel was dusty, but none the
worse for wear, smiling as he came out of the rubble. "Thank you."
            I shook my head. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. You could have
just told me that the city was floating alone in space."
            Daniel gave a smile that was slightly sheepish. "I wasn't certain
that you would believe me. I am sorry, John."
            I gave a little shrug. "It's done now. Where are the others?"
            "Asleep, back in pods," Daniel replied. "But their memories haven't
been touched, the Strangers were too busy dealing with you."
            "And Larry and May?"
            Daniel looked away. "I still haven't been able to find Larry. May
has been erased, but she's still sleeping. I can give her a new shell. With
your permission I would like to give her a new life with Emma. I would like to
take the memory of this experiment from them completely and let them start
again."
            "It sounds fine. Why are you asking my permission?"
            Daniel flushed, glancing down. "It's your city now, John. You can
do whatever you want. You are the master and commander."
            "And you'll help me?" I asked, feeling a thrill of nervousness at
the thought of that kind of responsibility. Daniel nodded.
            "Anything that you ask. What is your first wish?"

            I looked around at the buildings, sensing the city, putting
everything back to rights. Burying the clock and setting it ticking again.
Slowly around us the hover cars started up again and the city came to life.
Then I looked up at the sky, trying to imagine the stars behind the thick black
clouds. "I want the sun," I said slowly. "And a beach. I want Shell Beach to be
real. And then I want to leave everything alone, let people live their lives
without any meddling at all. Can we do that?"
            Daniel smiled. "If you create it, John, I will make them believe
that it has always been real."
            "And then if we can find Earth...."
            Daniel wet his lips and nodded slowly. "I'm not certain if it still
exists. But we can access their database together. We can find out. If there is
a home to return to, we can take the city back if you wish."
            The undertaking would be huge, I knew. But I couldn't help remember
the young Daniel in my memories, his face shining with happiness and pride. His
embrace. I knew you could do it, John.
            We could do it.

***
***** The Beginning of Daylight *****
Frank Bumstead

            I'd fallen asleep on the edge of the city and woken on the leather
couch in my apartment with Schreber bent over me, holding one of his strange
syringes. I jerked upright, almost bashing heads with him, and Murdoch placed a
hand on my shoulder, tugging me back down. "Easy, chief. Relax. We haven't
changed anything. Just waking you up again, that's all. Giving you a new
shell."
            "I was rather hoping this whole business was just a...." I paused,
staring out the window. "Is that the sun?"
            Murdoch looked pleased as punch. "We've made a few minor
improvements, now that we've got rid of the evil overlords. Just us humans in
the city now. But we could do with a little help making sure things stay
running smoothly."
            Schreber nodded. "We'd also like you to be the chief of police, if
you're willing. It will be a new promotion for you, so you'll have time to
adjust to the role. Would you like something to drink, Inspector?"
            I sat up more slowly this time, watching the both of them. "Coffee
would be much appreciated."
            Murdoch nodded. "Cream and sugar?"
            "One of each," I replied, not expecting the cup to appear out of
nowhere on my coffee table. Murdoch watched me with an expectant grin as I took
a sip. "I see you've figured out this whole alien super power thing."
            "With a little help," he replied, smiling wider as he glanced to
Daniel and back. "Will you do it?"
            "What's the catch?"
            Murdoch shrugged. "No catch. Just don't arrest me."
            "Then don't do anything illegal."
            He laughed. "Deal. As long as you don't ask me where my money comes
from."
            I pondered the situation for a time. "All right. It's a deal. How
are the others? The doctor's brother and the officer that was helping me?"
            "They're safe," Schreber replied, smiling, picking up the cup of
tea that had appeared on the coffee table and taking a sip. "They will be in
position to assist you. John and I plan to keep our own role in the city
rather... low key. But if there is anything we can do, please let us know. We
are very grateful for your help, Inspector."
            I couldn't quite get over the warmth and brightness that streamed
through the window. "So we get to live our own lives now? Just one life, no
more changes?"
            "None," Schreber promised with a smile. "We are no longer simply
rats in a maze, Inspector, if you will excuse the clichéd but apt turn of
phrase."
            "How do I contact you?"
            Murdoch held out a hand, taking the paper card that the doctor
passed to him. He penned something on the back, then handed it to me. I tried
not to stare at the strangeness of a paper business card instead of an info
chip. "Daniel's office, our contact info, and our home in Shell Beach. You are
welcome at any time."
            I quirked an eyebrow. "Our house?"
            "We thought it best to stay in close quarters until we've figured
everything out." He stood, taking Schreber's empty teacup and willing it into
nothing, starting for my door.
            "Just head in to work on Monday," Schreber told me with a smile.
"Your office is ready for you. Let us know if you have any problems."
            I nodded mutely and watched them leave, head still spinning. I’d
never in a million years expected something like this. But somehow my gut
feeling told me everything was going to work out all right.

***
John Murdoch

            I spent the first few days after the Stranger's defeat with Daniel,
setting the city up for what would be its final state. There were a few
malicious personalities in the city, like the serial killer I was meant to be,
and these we reverted and sent to live normal lives in my newly created Shell
Beach. There were people who slumbered with no shells - people who'd been
killed or who simply didn't have a place in the last set of experiments - and
we also placed them back into society. The sun and the ocean outside of the
city became a normal part of life. Only the five of us knew the truth or
remembered how it had been. Three men who became part of the city. Then myself.
And Daniel.
            I wasn't quite sure when I'd started thinking of him as Daniel,
though I suppose it must have had something to do with the memories. The
infusion of knowledge, Daniel had called it. At least it was something to
remember, something where the blankness had been. It was pretty good, as far as
childhoods go. I had parents who loved me, a sister. Daniel, both as a mentor
in his adult self, and a friend in his younger self. That was the only strange
thing, really. I could understand seeing his brother in my memories, and Larry.
Even Emma as my younger sister - Anna, now. I think Frank was even in there
somewhere. But why two of Daniel? It seemed like it would have been easy enough
to have the young Daniel teach me. It's not like I had a choice of whether or
not to listen to him.
            Settling Bumstead as the new chief of police was the easy part. We
then spent the weekend searching through the rooms of pods underneath the city
with Ben, working far into the night, trying to find any trace of Larry. But
with thousands upon thousands of people in the city - and therefore sleeping
under the city - it was going to take some time. Ben was a quiet mask of
resolve, and Daniel managed to keep up the same when Ben was around, but when
we were apart I could see his despair.
            "Come for a drink with me," I told him one night after we'd seen
Ben back to his new apartment in the city. Daniel looked up at me, startled,
but nodded.
            "I suppose we have not had much time to talk. But perhaps home
would be a more convenient locale?"
            "Sure." The drive back to the house I'd created in Shell Beach
wasn't long, but it was long enough for me to ponder why he'd proved so
agreeable to anything I'd asked. The house in Shell Beach mainly... when I'd
suggested it might be easier for us to stay together while we got the city
settled I hadn't anticipated that he'd actually agree. I worried at my bottom
lip. "If it's easier for you to stay at your old place, I don't mind."
            Daniel glanced over. "If I'm an inconvenience - "
            "No, no. Nothing like that. I just... I feel like I've been very
demanding of you."
            He gave a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Not at all, John.
Truthfully, I am happy to have a place to call home, if just for now. The only
place I have in the city is my office, I slept in the underneath. I... would
prefer not to return there if it is not necessary. When we are finished I will
secure a flat for myself in the city."
            "Or you could stay."
            He gave another little shake of his head, staring down at his hands
in his lap. "You will have your own life, John. You won't need me to get in the
way. I should reopen my practice as well. Surely there are people who will
remember past imprints with time. They will need my assistance."
            "The only life I have is the one you've given me," I said softly,
not expecting the look of surprise and concern that crossed his face.
            "You have your sister. And you'll meet many others...."
            Anna had May, I wanted to argue. Or would have May. And while I
still cared for her, I hardly knew her. The only people I felt I knew at all
were the ones who had helped me. Instead of arguing, I turned off the hover car
and stepped out, waiting for him before heading up the walk to the house,
throwing the lock and tugging open the door with my mind.
            "Is there something troubling you, John?" Daniel's voice was
hesitant as he hung his coat and hat on the rack. I didn't reply, heading into
the kitchen and willing a bottle of cold single malt whiskey into being along
with two glasses and ice.
            "Whiskey?"
            He regarded the bottle for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you."
            I half filled both glasses and took a sip of mine, letting the
liquor play across my tongue and burn down my throat. "You don't think we're
going to find him, do you."
            Daniel opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. He
took a large swallow of the whiskey, shivering a little as he swallowed. "I do
not know. They very well could have just wiped him and put him to sleep like
they did with the other three... it's equally likely that they recognized him
as a former stray and just did away with him immediately." He shivered and took
another swallow. "I don't want to contemplate it. But I'm afraid that I'm
giving Ben false hope."
            "I won't stop looking until we've checked every pod," I said
softly. "He did what he did to protect me. All of us. I'm not giving up."
            "Thank you," he whispered, leaning forward onto the kitchen counter
with both hands wrapped around the glass, blond hair falling down to half cover
the device attached to his glasses. "I - I'm sorry to be so emotional. He was
the first one I managed to save. It's hard to think about...."
            "We'll keep looking," I said softly, covering his hand with one of
mine, taking another sip. "He's just as important to you as he is to Ben, isn't
he?"
            Daniel gave a soft laugh and shook his head. "No one could be as
important to anyone as Larry was to Ben. You should have seen the two of them
together when it was just them. I couldn't wish anyone better for my brother."
            "But you did care for him?"
            Daniel pulled away from my touch to take another swallow of the
whiskey. "I suppose I loved him, a little. I slept with him. It was just he and
I then. Before Ben. I..." he gave a soft, broken laugh. "It had been so long
since I'd had anyone show me kindness, let alone intimacy...." Daniel flushed
darkly, glancing away. "I borrowed a shell. It wasn't safe for me to visit him
as myself, in any case." He drained his glass and looked up at me. "Ironically,
at the time he was heartbroken over you."
            "Me?" I drained my glass as well and poured more whiskey.
            Daniel chuckled softly. "A previous identity. Apparently you picked
him up for two days of hot meaningless shagging before your experiment
changed." He sipped his whiskey. "I can't say I wasn't jealous."
            That was an interesting concept. I tossed back the remains of my
drink and smiled. "Of me or him?"
            "Both, if you must know." He stared at me as I refilled his glass.
"John... that is rather a lot of alcohol."
            "Good. After everything we've been through I think we deserve to
get a little wasted." The smile Daniel gave me was sweet and indulgent, and I
let myself just enjoy it for a few moments. "You're so patient with me."
            He glanced away, still smiling. "You've done me a great service.
Anything that I can do for you, John...."
            "Then stay here," I said softly before I could think about it,
pressing on when he looked back to me, startled. "You're my history now. And I
can't take care of the city on my own. I need you."
            "You're too kind to me," he replied, flushing darkly. He was so
sweet like that. I thought back to my own memories, to wanting so badly to kiss
him. Maybe it wasn't too late.
            I set my glass aside, stepping closer and bringing a hand up to
touch his cheek. "Maybe I only picked up Larry because I'd never met you."
            Daniel froze, but let me turn his face to me, to draw him closer
with a hand on his hip. "John...."
            "I've wanted to kiss you for a very long time," I murmured, and
leaned in to claim his lips with my own. They were as soft and warm as I
thought they would be, and he yielded to me with a soft gasp, not resisting as
I pulled him closer, his arms coming up slip around my neck. The warmth of his
body against my own was intoxicating, and I'd pressed him back against the
kitchen cupboards without thinking, mapping his mouth with a swipe of my tongue
before delving deeper. I wanted to lose myself in the heat of his mouth for
hours, to kiss him until neither of us could breathe. Being close to him felt
so familiar, so right....
            "I can't do this." Daniel twisted out of my grasp before I could
stop him, expression almost stricken. "I'm sorry, John. I'm so sorry."
            "Daniel - " I tried to catch his arm, only to have him dart away to
the kitchen entryway.
            "Good night," he said, and disappeared.
            For a long moment I stood in the kitchen, wondering what I'd done
wrong. Then I finished my drink and stated upstairs, my body warm and fuzzy
from the alcohol. His bedroom light was off already, so I stripped down to my
boxers and crawled into bed, quickly falling asleep.
 
            When I felt a soft caress on my lips it took me a few moments to
realize exactly what was going on. There was warmth pressed against me, soft
and satin smooth, and a whisper of silk on my chest, a gentle touch.... I tried
to speak, but all that came out was a sleepy little questioning noise.
            "Hush." Daniel's voice was low and husky against my mouth, and I
arched closer to claim his lips again, warm and yearning. I tried to curl into
him, stroking a hand over his chest and finding that he was dressed in
absolutely decadent feeling silk pyjamas. He caught my hand with his own,
though, pushing it away, pinning it to the bed at my side. "Lay still."
            "But..."
            "Lay still," he said again, voice low and husky, sending a shudder
of desire down my spine that I definitely couldn't argue with.
            I gave a low moan into his mouth, sucking on his bottom lip, losing
myself in the warmth and desire of his kisses. "I can tie myself to the bed if
you like."
            He chuckled softly, mouthing along my jaw, nipping at the soft skin
just under my ear, a shiver of pleasure that made me moan. "That won't be
necessary if you behave yourself," he replied, releasing my hand to stroke over
my hip, cupping my cock through my boxers and giving a light squeeze.
            I groaned, rocking up into his touch without thinking, quickly
growing harder under his touch. "What are you doing...?"
            "What do you think?" He nipped lightly at the crook of my neck,
soothing it with soft laps of his tongue, his breath a warm tease on my skin.
Before I knew it he'd slipped down to lap at my nipple, sucking on it wetly and
teasing it with his teeth. His hand slipped down inside my shorts, and he gave
a low moan as his fingers curled around my cock, stroking me slowly.
            "Oh god, Daniel...." I smoothed a hand over his shoulder, slipping
it into in his hair, but he didn't dissuade me from that, slipping down further
and tugging down my boxers to take the head of my cock in his mouth. I drew a
sharp breath, fingers tightening in his hair and just barely resisting the urge
to thrust up into the wet heat of his mouth. When was the last time I'd had
sex, let alone in my real body?
            Daniel gave a low, appreciative hum around me, swirling his tongue
around my cock, tracing and teasing it, licking the underside where I was so
sensitive. His fingers curled around the base of my shaft, stroking slowly,
teasing me as he pleasured me with his lips and tongue. I couldn't hold back my
pleasure. "Oh fuck, feels so good... god, Daniel, your mouth - !"
            He hummed around me in reply, sucking me down a little more
hungrily, groaning, taking me until his mouth met the stroke of his hand. That
was perfection, hot and wet and slick, drawing on me hungrily, his little
aroused groans vibrating through me and only making me harder. I clenched my
fingers in his hair again and again, tugging just a little, encouraging,
gasping out breathless groans of pleasure with each bob of his head.
            His fingers slipped down to cup my balls, squeezing just a little,
just as he swallowed me down into his throat, groaning around me. I bucked up
into him despite myself, but he took it, taking me again, still fondling my
sack. I gave his hair a little tug in warning, trying to hold back the tide of
sensation. "God, Daniel - going to make me - "
            Daniel's hum was encouraging, showing no sign of stopping, and when
he swallowed around me again it pulled away the last vestige of my control, and
I came hot and thick in his mouth. He took me through it, gently sucking each
spurt of my seed from me, then licking me clean with slow laps of his tongue.
He pressed a soft kiss to my hip with a low, satisfied little sigh, then tugged
my boxers back into place.
            I tried to catch my breath, nerves buzzing with pleasure. "God,
you're amazing."
            "Glad you thought so." Daniel moved up to kiss my cheek.
"Goodnight."
            "Goodnight?" I tried to tug him down to me. "Come here, beautiful."
            Daniel gave a soft hum, letting me kiss him, licking past his lips
to taste myself on his tongue. Then he pulled away completely, tucking the
covers of my bed back around me. "Sleep well."
            I stared after him as the door closed, even more confused than I
was before. But it was hard to ignore the relaxation and well being that
followed a really good blow job, and before long I'd drifted back to sleep.

***
Ben Carson

            My reintegration with society was easy. Daniel had asked me if I'd
consider going back to the police force in a senior position. Something with
enough power that I could help out if there was ever the need. It was a
familiar calling, and I hoped it would take my mind off the losses I'd
suffered. I hadn't expected the position to be the city's Deputy
Superintendent. It involved an update - an infusion of knowledge, Daniel had
called it - to bring me up to speed on modern law enforcement techniques and
the organization of the city's police force. Then as far as anyone else was
concerned, I was merely a transfer from the same position in a smaller city.
            Daniel had retrieved Kuronue from the apartment I'd shared with
Larry and Leon for that short time, where I’d left him for safekeeping when he
and I had gone to meet John. I couldn't go back there yet. I'd expected it
would even be too difficult to be around the little dragon, but our mutual
sorrow ended up being strangely comforting. Eventually I'd have to reset him,
give him the kindness of not knowing who he was missing. But I couldn't do it
yet. Daniel and John and I had spent hours on end searching through tiny rooms
with pods full of sleeping people, with me strapped in to one of his levitation
devices. It was strange and a little unwieldy to get used to, but necessary to
navigate the underneath. Our search had turned up nothing in the area where
Larry had originally been sleeping, but I couldn't completely give up hope, not
yet.
            My first morning's agenda was filled with meet and greets -
individual meetings with the heads of each of each of the law enforcement
bureaus I looked after, and with the commanders of the specialized bureaus, who
I'd be working with just as closely, like emergency services, cyber crime and
crime scene. The Commander of Cyber Crime was first, a feisty little thing with
white-blond hair and ears full of piercings that looked like she'd be more at
home in a club than an office environment. She reminded me of a look that Larry
had worn once, and I had to force myself not to think about it. I admitted to
her straight off the bat that I was completely useless with anything electronic
beyond the reporting systems we had, and between that and her approval on my
choice of dragon I somehow bought her good will immediately. We talked politics
and office gossip for half an hour before the meeting was up. I pulled open my
files on the touch screens on my desk, thankful that Daniel's aid had given me
some idea of how to navigate the systems, and started making notes on the
conversations. I had ten minutes before the Commander of Crime Scene was due to
stop by.
            The door to my office opened as I was finishing typing down my
thoughts, but before I could look up Kuronue had launched himself up off the
desk with an excited squawk, zipping over to the door, trilling frantically. I
glanced towards the door, ready to call him back and reprimand him, but my
words caught in my throat.
            "Hey!" The man at the door caught the dragon with a laugh, trying
to keep hold of him as he squirmed out of his grasp to curl up around his neck.
"You're a cute little fella, aren't you? But my hair isn't edible - "
            "Kuronue," I barked, forcing myself to react through the shock. Of
course the dragon would go to him. To Larry, my Larry, the same mussed auburn
hair that I'd run my fingers through hundreds of times, the generous mouth I'd
kissed so often. I wanted to laugh and cry all at once.
            "It's all right, sir," Larry laughed, getting the dragon to settle
down by rubbing under his chin and behind his horns, same as Larry always had.
"I don't mind, always thought these little guys were cute. Not sure why I've
never picked one up, I didn't know they were allowed at work."
            "A privilege of rank," I managed to reply, still staring, and for a
moment I couldn't say anything at all. "How...." How was he here? How could he
have gotten back into the world without Daniel knowing? But god, how did that
even matter? He was here. He was alive. But... he didn't know me anymore. I
tried to force my racing heart to calm. I realized I'd risen to my feet when
he'd come in, and caught myself, sitting back down and nodding to the chair on
the other side of my desk. "Please have a seat. Commander Larry Quinn, right?"
            Larry grinned and offered a hand, his grasp warm and secure. "The
one and only."
            "Ben Carson. Please call me Ben. How long have you been in the
bureau, Commander Quinn?"
            He gave a little shrug. "Enrolled right out of school, it was
always my dream to be a cop."
            Was he really my Larry? I suddenly needed to know everything, a
million questions streaming through my mind and one falling from my lips before
I could sort through them. "Do you have any tattoos?"
            Larry quirked an eyebrow. "Sir?"
            "Just an ice breaker," I managed to reply, smiling to fake my way
past awkward embarrassment. "One of my own interests."
            "So you want to know if I have a battleship on my ass?" His mouth
quirked into the familiar half grin, and I laughed, shaking my head. He was so
much my Larry, and his smile and gentle teasing had begun to put me at ease.
            "No, nothing like that. Commander, as far as I'm concerned, we both
report directly to the Chief Bumstead, so we're equals. I've seen the kind of
turf wars that can come up between crime scene and the beat cops, I don't want
that happening."
            He looked a little relieved, and nodded. "I completely agree, and
you'll have my full cooperation, sir. Ben. And call me Larry, please."
            "It would be my pleasure." Inside my emotions churned between
nervousness and excitement. "Please feel free to come to me whenever you need
me for anything, Larry."
            "I will. Thank you very much, it's very much appreciated. Your
predecessor was... less generous." A familiar half quirk of a smile let me know
he was the one being generous with his words. I chuckled softly.
            "Then things can only get better, I hope. Should we take some time
before the department head meeting next week to try and iron out any
outstanding issues?"
            "I have a pretty long list," he warned with a teasing smile, and I
gave another soft laugh.
            "I have plenty of time for you." It was a more intimate statement
than I should use, I knew, but he didn't seem to notice.
            "Then I'll clear my schedule as well. I'll send you a note as soon
as I get a few reports pulled and we can figure out a time to start."
            "Thank you," I replied, standing as he did. I wanted to reach out
to him, I wanted to pull him to me and never let go. But this was a start. He
was here. It was enough.
            Larry paused at the door, turning back to me, hesitating a moment
before speaking. "You know, if you haven't got a chance to see the city yet...
I could take you around to a couple of places. Do some off the clock networking
after work."
            "Networking is always better with beer?" My heart was pounding, but
I nodded. "I'd like that very much."
            He grinned, wide and beautiful. "Great. I'll meet you here at five.
Oh shit - your dragon." He went to unwind the happily coiled dragon from his
neck, receiving a heart-breakingly mournful cry in return.
            "It's all right," I said, giving my head a little shake. "Kuronue
likes you. Hang onto him for the afternoon at least. Call him an ambassador for
peace. But I can't be held responsible if he eats your hair."
            Larry laughed and nodded. "Thanks." He glanced over me, still
smiling, but for a moment I could see a hint of the passion I'd fallen so in
love with. "I'll see you later, Ben."
            "Looking forward to it," I replied, sitting down slowly as I
watched him leave, not able to stop smiling. It was definitely a start. It was
better than a start.

***

***** Remembering Leon *****
Frank Bumstead

            The office of the chief of police was big. The actual job and the
office itself. I hung my coat and hat on a rather empty coat stand and took a
look around the room at the empty display boards and turned off monitors. There
were huge floor to ceiling glass windows that I didn't remember seeing from the
few times I'd been in this office in the past. Perhaps another one of Murdoch's
minor improvements.
            I heard a soft knock at my door, and turned to see a blessedly
familiar face. "Husselbeck?"
            The young man smiled, soft and warm. Rather than the officer
uniform I was used to, he was dressed in a pair of soft grey wool pants and a
matching vest over a royal blue dress shirt, rolled up to the elbows. It was a
very smart look on him, brought out the blue in his eyes. "Good morning, sir.
Thought I'd come to see how you're settling in."
            "It will take a bit of adjustment," I admitted, finding myself
strangely glad of his presence. "Do you work here too, Husselbeck?"
            Husselbeck's smile widened. "I'm the Deputy Commissioner to the
Mayor. The simple explanation is that I take care of all your paperwork, and
then make sure it gets to city hall in a timely fashion. The mayor hires me to
make you look good."
            I nodded slowly. "I'm familiar with the post, though I'm pretty
sure there's supposed to be an eighty year old former secretary taking care of
it...."
            "I think you'll find she retired, sir."
            "Convenient of it for the post to open up."

            "It was." Leon was still smiling, though it seemed a little
wistful. "Ben and I both sat down with Murdoch and the Doctor and figured out
places where we'd be happiest and most useful. You should be hearing from the
new Deputy Superintendent over your law enforcement bureaus soon as well."
            I raised an eyebrow. "Murdoch?"
            He chuckled. "No, no. Murdoch has settled down to a very
nondescript life in Shell Beach, we're welcome to visit them anytime we like.
The doctor's brother is your new Deputy Superintendent. Ben Carson. Just
transferred in from out of city, according to the official paperwork. He's been
a cop before, apparently, he seems really solid."
            "Thank you," I told him, and we got to work. I saw Husselbeck quite
a bit over the course of the day, and he seemed to fall into the role of my
assistant as if it was completely natural, even down to somehow intuitively
knowing how I took my coffee and when I liked to drink it. But he had a kind of
sadness behind his smile, something that I realized had been there since I'd
met him. Of course it couldn't be easy, everything he'd gone through with the
strangers. The idea of his sadness sat strangely uncomfortable with me, made me
realize I wanted to do something about it. I caught him at his desk outside my
office near the end of the day, engrossed in a report, and watched him for a
moment before speaking.
            "You have plans tonight, Husselbeck?"
            He looked up at me, startled. Adorably startled. "Um, sir? No, I -
do you need me to do something for you?"
            I made up my mind. "Yes. I need you to come to dinner with me."
            For a moment he just stared at me, eyes wide, and I suddenly
worried that I'd overstepped professional boundaries. "Just to catch up on
everything that's going on in nicer setting."
            "Oh," he replied, then gave a hesitant smile. "I'd like that, sir."
            "Good. I'll meet you in the parkade."
            Husselbeck seemed a little nervous when I met him at my car, but
gave me a wide smile. "Thank you, sir. I - I appreciate the company. I don't
know a lot of people anymore. I mean - I know them, but... they don't really
know me."
            "We'll see if we can change that," I said, opening the door for him
before getting in myself. "Any preference as to where or what we eat?"
            He shook his head. "Surprise me."
            "All right." I thought for a moment, then programmed in an address
to a restaurant I was rather fond of - quiet and upscale with excellent food.
"Are you adjusting to the role all right?"
            Leon - when had I started thinking of him as Leon? - nodded. "It's
familiar, a lot like what I used to do but on a larger scale. You?"
            "A lot more meetings than I'm used to," I admitted with a little
smile. "But there's good people working under me. I think things will be all
right."
            It didn't take long to get to the restaurant, and I took him inside
with me, feeling instantly at ease in the setting as we were seated. This
particular restaurant took its décor strictly from the early twentieth century,
from the wood paneling and frescoed ceilings to the delicate chandeliers set
with artificial candles. "It's a bit of a theme restaurant," I said
apologetically as we waited for the waiter to take drink orders. "So I
apologize. I have a small weakness for antiques."
            Leon gave a little shake of his head, smiling. "No apologies
needed. It's beautiful here. I can't believe they have an actual piano." He
grinned up at the waiter as he approached. "Excuse me, will there be a pianist
in this evening?"
            The waiter gave an apologetic shake of the head. "Our last one quit
a couple weeks ago. But if either of you gentlemen happens to be classically
trained, we offer an appetizer on the house for every song played."
            Leon was silent for a moment, contemplative, then gave a little
nod, glancing to me. "Will you excuse me for a moment, sir?”
            "Be my guest," I replied, watching him with a little smile as he
crossed the wooden dance floor and pulled out the stool, lifting the lid of the
piano and cracking his knuckles before contemplating the keys. I watched him
run through a couple of quick scales, listening carefully to ensure the
instrument was reasonably tuned. Then he glanced over to me, the mask of
happiness slipping for a moment to reveal a longing so intense that it took my
breath away. He looked away from me quickly, putting his hands to the keys
instead.
            I let myself get lost in the melody as he played, a sweet, sad tune
with delicate finger work and beautiful harmonies. It wasn't the most polished
of performances, but I could feel the emotion in his playing, and it was
beautiful. Lyrics began to come back to me as he played. Had I heard this
before?
            I remembered it all in a flash of memory so sharp I almost gasped.
His body close to mine, the sweetness of his voice. "You became the light on
the dark side of me... you remain... my power, my pleasure, my pain." Leon
holding my accordion, pressed back to my chest as he picks out the notes.
Speaking to me. "How do you know this song?"
            But when had that happened?
            I watched his fingers move on the keys, head down, lips pursed in
concentration. More words came back to me with the melody. And if I should fall
along the way, I've been kissed by a rose....
            I wanted to make him smile. The realization came with a deep set
ache inside me, a longing stronger than I could ever remember. I wanted to make
him smile, really smile. I wanted to make him deliriously happy. The waiter
returned, and I ordered a good vintage bottle of wine, then stood as Leon
finished playing, crossing to the piano and touching his shoulder. "Let’s take
a walk, Husselbeck."
            Leon looked up at me with wide eyes and nodded, following me out
onto the restaurant's veranda. The restaurant was on the top floor of a small
but expensive office building, and the rooftop was filled with plants and
trees, lovingly tended. The sun was just setting, which lit everything golden,
and the warmth was reassuring. Leon and I walked for a short time without
touching, finally reaching a spot at the edge of the rooftop overlooking the
city, where I stopped, turning to him. "Husselbeck... what's your story?"
            He tensed immediately, resting both hands on the rail and staring
out at the city. "You know it, sir. I woke up from the experiments some time
ago and stayed with the others until everything happened with Murdoch. Now I'm
here."
            "What about before that? How did you wake up?"
            He gave a soft, soundless little laugh, silent for a long moment.
"You don't want to hear it."
            I stepped closer to him, letting a hand rest lightly on his
shoulder and feeling him shudder. "I very much do. Please."
            Leon let out a long breath, as if forcing himself to relax, but his
fingers on the rail stayed white-knuckled. "I was in love with my boss, and he
with me. Daniel says we'd been together as a couple in dozens of experiments.
But it didn't fit their plans when I became Leon, so they removed the romance
from our memories. Trouble is, I still remembered even if he didn't. So they
took me out of the experiment entirely, they replaced me. That's when Daniel
pulled me out."
            Oh god. Leon worked for you, Murdoch had said. It's why I'd trusted
him. I bit my lip on the surge of helplessness his words brought and struggled
to keep my voice calm. "What of your lover? What happened to him?"
            Leon gave his head a little shake. "The imprint held. He doesn't
remember me at all."
            "Are you so certain of that?"
            I felt a shudder run through him, and he closed his eyes for a
moment, his voice very small. "If he does, maybe he should tell me."
            "Oh, Leon...." The words slipped from my mouth in a sigh, and I
pulled him tightly against me, feeling him give a shuddering sob, wrapping his
arms up around my neck and holding tightly. I pressed my face to his hair,
breathing in deep. I knew this, knew the scent of his skin, the feel of his
body in my arms. I knew him. "I don't know what I remember," I murmured, heart
aching at how good it felt to touch him. "But somehow I know that I love you.
God, I love you."
            "It's all that matters," he replied, voice shaking badly. "Oh god,
Frank. Don't leave me. Never leave me again."
            "I promise." I stroked my fingers through his hair and down his
back, over and over. "My sweet boy. How could I ever forget this?"
            "Thought you'd never remember," he breathed, arms tightening around
me.
            I could remember more, now. Holding him in my arms in my office,
like this, wanting to give him the world. "I showed you how to play my
accordion."
            "Yes. That song." Leon pulled back enough to look up at me, eyes
bright, his skin warm and golden in the dying sunlight. "And we made love."
            I tried to remember what it would have been like to kiss him, to
remove his clothing slowly, piece by piece, but while I could imagine it, that
was all there was. I shook my head, trying to bite back frustration. "I don't
remember."
            "You didn't remember the song until you heard it," Leon said
softly, flushing a little. "So perhaps something similar will jog your memory.
If you'd like, of course."
            The very idea was enough to drive me to distraction... but he
deserved better than that. I let my thumb brush his bottom lip, watching his
eyes fall closed for a moment in pleasure. "Dinner first. We'll make a proper
date of it and see how things go."
            Leon nodded, a little hopeful smile playing about his lips, and I
couldn't resist the urge to claim it, cupping his jaw as I leaned in to press
my lips to his. Leon gave a soft whimper, arching closer, fingers clenching at
my back. This too was familiar, and so long waited for and longed for. I caught
his bottom lip between mine as his lips parted to me, sucking on it with a low
moan, realizing very quickly how easily it would be to become addicted to his
kisses, to kiss him and never stop. I forced myself to pull back, pressing a
soft kiss to his cheek and taking his hand in mine. "Come on, my love."
            When we reached the table the wine was poured, and there was an
appetizer waiting - four individually garnished ravioli that turned out to be
filled with crab and cream cheese. I lifted my glass, catching his gaze with a
smile. "To making the city ours.
            Leon smiled, and clinked his glass to mine.
            By the time we were finished dinner - a pan seared sea bass with
baby potatoes and new vegetables for Leon, and Beef Tenderloin with a wild
mushroom risotto for me - the bottle of wine was mostly finished as well, a
warm relaxation in the tips of my fingers. Leon was adorably flushed, talking
about work, telling stories from when we worked together before, and I was all
too content to watch him, to take in how beautiful he was. Another pianist took
a seat at the piano, starting into a slow waltz, and when two other couples
took to the floor, I held out a hand. "Leon?"
            "Hm?" He glanced down at my hand and then back up to me. "Sir?"
            "Just Frank, Leon."
            He flushed darkly, giving a soft laugh. "I've always been kind of
bad about that. Sorry."
            "Don't apologize. Come dance."
            Smiling, Leon gave a little nod and took my hand, letting me lead
him out onto the dance floor. He fit perfectly in my arms, and for a moment I
just closed my eyes, forever thankful that fate had brought him back to me.
            The official excuse for taking him home was coffee, but we were
barely in the door before he was pressed close to me, body warm and tantalizing
against mine as he kissed me. "Don't worry," Leon breathed, "we didn't actually
get to the coffee last time, either."
            I gave a soft laugh, stroking my hands down his back and finally
letting myself cup that firm little ass, pulling him closer. "Still can't
resist you," I murmured, licking past those sweet lips and into his mouth,
tasting warmth and Leon and a hint of the wine. Leon returned my kisses with
just as much longing, with little moans of pleasure that shivered straight down
my spine, kissing until we were both breathless. He made no attempt at reserve,
hips rocking against me under the clench of my hands on his ass, and I could
feel his arousal tenting the front of those soft wool trousers.
            "Will you come to bed with me?" I breathed, and Leon bit his lip on
a groan.
            "Yes, a thousand times yes. Any time you want, Frank. Please."
            I slipped an arm around his waist, holding him close as I took him
down the hall. "I suppose we've already had conversations about the fact that
I'm far too old for you?"
            "And that it's just the way I like it?" Leon's fingers began to tug
at the buttons of my vest as we reached the side of my bed, pushing it and my
jacket off my shoulders. "And about how I'm just a naughty little boy who needs
a proper gentleman to make him behave?"
            I drew a soft hiss, liking his words far more than I wanted to
admit. I leaned in to catch his mouth, stroking my hands over his chest,
tugging open the vest and starting on the buttons of his shirt, needing to
touch his skin. It seemed to take far too long to tug his clothes off, kissing
and sucking at his bare shoulders and throat as I did, helping him with mine.
Finally I could stroke my hands down an uninterrupted slope of skin, cupping
his ass and groaning as he rocked up against me, his cock firm and warm against
my own. I squeezed his ass gently, nipping at his bottom lip. "All right, my
naughty little boy. Face the bed and lean down on your hands for me so I can
eat this tight little ass of yours."
            Leon drew a little whimpering breath and nodded, doing as asked,
his ass in the air. I took a moment to admire the lithe lines of his body,
stroking my hands over softly muscled thighs. Then I slipped to my knees,
pressing my lips to one firm ass cheek, kissing his skin, lathing it with my
tongue as I stroked up and down his flanks. I loved the taste of his skin,
hearing his breath come heavily, and when I finally drew my tongue up the
crease of his ass it drove a trembling groan from his mouth. This was my guilty
pleasure, making him whimper and gasp with my tongue, licking over the tart
pucker of flesh until he relaxed enough to the pleasure and I could push it
inside him, tasting him, fucking him in slow thrusts. Leon's whimpers were
almost helpless as I licked into him again and again, groaning against his
skin. When I moved one hand from his hip to cup his sack, his thighs began to
tremble from the pleasure of it all. "Oh god, Frank! Please...."
            "Please?" I blew lightly on his wet hole, smiling at his sharp
gasp, leaning in to nip gently at one ass cheek as I continued to massage his
balls gently, teasing the soft skin behind.
            "Need you," he gasped, hands clenched in the cover of my bed.
"Please...."
            Licking over him one more time, I stood a little regretfully,
pulling back the bedding, pressing up to his back and kissing the nape of his
neck. "Lay down for me, my boy."
            Leon was beautiful as he stretched out on my bed, pale skin
flushed, his cock rock hard in its nest of curls, the head slick with arousal.
I grabbed the bottle of lube from my bedside table, pouring some over his cock
first, stroking him slowly just to see him shudder and rock up into my fist.
Then I slicked two fingers, rocking them into him carefully, watching him
through narrowed eyes as I crooked my fingers just so, working until I found
the spot that made him jerk tense and cry out in pleasure. I continued stroking
him as I teased inside him, leaning down to mouth at his balls, sucking them
into my mouth in turn. I loved the hard weight of his cock in my hand, the way
his body tensed and clenched around my fingers as I continued to stretch him
open, his fingers smoothing restlessly over my shoulders and back. Finally I
eased my fingers away, not being able to resist the urge to press my tongue
inside him again, stroking him firm and fast.
            "Frank!" Leon's cry was almost helpless, his whole body near
trembling. "God, gonna make me come....!"
            I gave a little approving noise, face pressed to his ass, pushing
my tongue deep inside him. It made Leon jerk tense, choking back a cry as his
body shuddered around me, as my fingers milked spurts of come onto his stomach
and chest. I eased him through it until he could breathe again, then drew back
with a smile, licking along one streak of come on his stomach. "So beautiful,
Leon. So amazing.”
            "Oh god." Leon sounded a little incredulous, tugging me down to
kiss him, panting against my mouth. "I - oh god."
            "You like that?"
            He gave a little incredulous noise of agreement, still trying to
catch his breath. "Want you inside me, though."
            I tried to ignore the shiver of pleasure that his words drove down
my spine, nuzzling along his jaw. "We have plenty of time for that. Don't we?"
            "Mmhmm..." Leon's lips were warm against my jaw, nuzzling my ear.
"I want a long, slow fuck. Just like this...." He found the bottle of lube
where I'd left it on the bed, squeezing some on his fingers and reaching down
to encircle my cock, stroking teasingly light and slow. "Come on, Frank. Want
to feel you take me while I'm all slick and relaxed like this...."
            I let out a long breath, not quite trusting myself to speak, and
then shifted to kneel between his legs. I pushed them up to his chest, stroking
up the inside of his thighs and watching his eyes close in pleasure. He looked
incredibly debauched already, neat hair tousled from our passion, his skin
flushed, slick with his seed. I ran my fingers through the come on his chest,
smiling at his soft moan, and then rocked them back inside him, teasing him
with slow thrusts. "So hot. You loving having your ass played with, don't you?
I could just tease you and lick you and eat you out for hours...."
            "Want you to come inside me," he gasped, whimpering as my fingers
teased against his prostate. "Oh god, Frank. Fuck me. Please...."
            I wanted to wait, wanted to hold off until he was hard and aching,
whimpering and rutting back against my fingers. But I couldn't resist his
helpless plea, desperate as if he couldn't last another moment without my cock.
I pulled my fingers away from him and wrapped them around the base of my
erection, easing into him with slow, gradual thrusts, feeling the slick heat of
his body stretch around my head. I loved it for how good he felt, for the
little choked moan that escaped his lips, his fingers reaching, scrabbling on
my thighs for purchase. "Oh fuck. Oh god, Frank, more. So big...."
            I bit down on my bottom lip to keep concentration, to keep from
fucking into him hard and fast like my body was screaming for. I wanted to
savour this, to torture myself with the intensity of every slow thrust, to
watch him come undone under me as I fucked him. I curled my fingers around his
half-hard cock, stroking him gently as I slowly rocked deeper, holding still
for a moment when my hips connected with his tight ass and closing my eyes to
the sheath of his body surrounding me. "God, Leon. My boy...."
            Leon clenched around me, drawing a sharp his through his teeth.
"Makes me so hard when you say that."
            "When I call you my boy?" I rocked ever so slightly against him,
hardly moving, just grinding my cock into him and loving the way it made him
shudder. "Because you want to be spoilt? To be teased and pleasured and
cherished? Or perhaps you want to belong to me?" At his soft hiss I smiled,
giving a slightly harder thrust just to make him gasp and rock back onto my
cock. "That's it, isn't it? Little boy wants to belong completely to his
gentleman, to be molested and claimed only by me, whenever I want you. Is that
it, Leon? Every inch of you belongs to me, understand?"
            "Yes. Oh god, please...." He was so hard again, fingers digging
into my thighs, trying to squirm closer to me. I pushed them away, pulling his
calves up to rest on my shoulders, pulling his hips to me as I buried myself
inside him, letting my desire for him take a little more control. Leon's eyes
were almost glazed with pleasure as he looked up at me, falling closed with a
cry every time I brushed up against his sweet spot, his calves trembling on my
shoulders, toes curled under in pleasure.
            "Touch yourself for me," I murmured, thrusting harder into him,
breathless at the shock of pleasure each thrust drove up my spine. Leon took
himself in hand without further urging, pulling on his cock in long, firm
strokes as I fucked into him again and again. I couldn't tear my eyes away from
him, the way he looked stretched out under me, and I couldn't imagine how I
could ever forget this perfection. I was speaking almost without realizing,
telling him this breathlessly as we moved together, pleasure building hot and
frantic. "So beautiful. So perfect, my Leon. Perfect tight little ass, feel so
good. Love you, my boy. Oh god, Leon - !"
            "Frank!" Leon's cry was helpless, jerking up against me, his body
clenching tight and hot around me with the shudders of climax. I forced myself
to hold back, drinking in the sight of him completely lost to pleasure, head
thrown back and flushed lips parted as he jerked each spurt of ejaculate from
his cock. It was too much to take, my own orgasm overwhelming me, bucking up
into him as I shot inside him, losing myself completely in the slick, perfect
heat of his body.
            Leon tried to move his trembling calves from my shoulders, and I
shifted a little to let them rest in the crook of my elbows, pressing close to
kiss him gently without pulling away quite yet. Leon gave a soft, breathless
moan against my mouth, returning my kisses softly as he tried to catch his
breath. "Oh god. Oh god, yes. Tell me we can do that again. Tell me we can do
that lots."
            I chuckled breathlessly, nuzzling his jaw. "As often as you want,
love."
            "We'll never get out of bed if you say that," he replied, voice
warm and sated.
            I was already thinking about that, and more, of making him walk
around my apartment completely naked except for a vibrating plug buried in his
tight ass, of driving him completely crazy with desire before finally letting
him come. I rather wished I had one now so that I could press it inside him and
tell him that it was to keep him open and ready for me to fuck him again later.
I'd definitely have to go shopping. "We'll see," I replied with a smile,
kissing him lazily as we both calmed, and licking along those pink lips. "For
now you're going to lay here and relax and let me clean you up, and then I'm
going to feed you dessert."
            "It sounds perfect," Leon replied with a soft sigh, returning my
kiss and only giving a soft moan of regret as I eased from his body to curl
around him protectively.
            "You are perfect," I replied in agreement, kissing him again.
***
 
 
May Jensen

            "She's pretty good, don't you think?"
            I glanced over to the owner of club I'd been working at. "She is
pretty good... at wiggling her ass. Take your eyes off the booty and actually
listen, Greg."
            He looked a little disgruntled. "I have listened to her CD. She
sounds great."
            "Carefully recorded and digitized, yeah. She sounds crap in person.
Doesn't have the consistency and staying power to sing live. It'll be too
demanding for her."
            "But her name - "
            "Will do nothing for us if she can't keep up to the demands of five
shows a week," I replied. "I won't work with her."
            "You won't work at all if you can't find a singer," He replied with
a frown. "We've heard eighteen girls today, May. Will you even consider men?"
            "A male voice wouldn't fit with my music," I replied with a frown.
"Besides, the singer needs to be able to make men drool."
            "She can - "
            "And be able to sing," I cut in, waving to our stage tech to escort
the girl out of the building.
            Greg frowned. "You're such a diva," he grumbled. "She's the best
we've heard all day."
            "But still not right," I replied, placing a hand on his arm and
looking up at him through thick eyelashes. "I won't accept anything but the
best in live entertainment for Quicksilver. You shouldn't, either."
            "Fine," he grumbled, then motioned towards our stage tech as he
came back. "We have anyone else?"
            "Just one, Mr. Ossom."
            "Well, at least we'll have time for a drink before the doors open.
Send her in."
            I consulted the list of singers that had been sent to my viewer,
crossing out the name of the previous girl. "Anna... Murdoch?"
            "That's me." The girl that walked out onto the dance floor had
long, sleek chestnut hair, so dark it was almost black. She was dressed in a
deep purple mermaid gown that put me in mind of a noir-inspired clothing line
I'd seen recently, all sequins and swirl, and it hugged her curves beautifully.
She had striking blue-green eyes and rosebud lips, and seemed strangely
familiar....
            "Have we met before, sugar?"
            She was watching me curiously. "I don't remember... but you seem
really familiar...."
            I stood and offered my hand. "May Jensen. Do you sing anywhere else
in town?"
            "I perform two nights a week at the Speak Easy. I'm looking for
something a little more... full time."
            I'd heard of the Speak Easy - a quaint little Jazz lounge with an
antique style. I'd never been there, but I shrugged it off. Perhaps I’d passed
her on the street or something. "All right, sweetie. Show us what you've got."
            Anna slipped a chip into the soundboard and moved to the microphone
we had set up, instantly all smoulder and sex. When she opened her mouth, the
clear, rich tone of her voice shivered down my spine. "When the rhythm starts
to play, dance with me, make me sway...."
            "She'll need to change her image a bit," Greg said beside me,
watching me with a little smile. "I'll get the paperwork drawn up for her to
sign."
            I grinned at him. "And here you thought I'd never find the one."
            I met Anna on the dance floor as she finished the number. "I think
you'll be the perfect fit," I said right away, watching her smile and flush
cutely. "Have you heard my music before?"
            "A little. But not live. John - my brother - he's been here before
and told me about the audition, he thought it might be a good fit for me."
            "Then he has a good ear," I replied, liking her more and more the
longer we spoke. "We'll have to get you some costumes more appropriate to the
club's style of course, but I'd like to start up performances again in a week
if you think you can be ready. Greg's getting the paperwork to have you signed
on full time - it basically just restricts us from performing the same material
live anywhere else unless the club's running a concert or event, we're still
fine to record without having to pay royalties or anything of the like. As soon
as you're available I'd like to meet at my studio and go through some of the
material and show you how the basic set-up will work, things like that."
            She was practically glowing, and nodded. "I'm free tonight?"
            "Perfect. Then we'll get a bite to eat and get to work.
            There was something so natural about working with Anna that it made
me almost forget about my previous singer all together, who'd moved out of the
city when her husband had been transferred. Anna's voice was just right for the
music, and she caught on quickly to my style. My studio was the second bedroom
in my apartment, and I loaned her one of my little black dresses so she could
be more comfortable. I picked up a mix for a peach cocktail, and we spent the
evening drinking and making music.
            I'm not sure at what point the smouldering glances we'd been
trading turned to open invitations, or who acted first, just that when she was
finally in my arms with her lips on mine it seemed the most perfect, natural
thing ever. I'd been with women before, and men, but I'd never felt the same
kind of instant connection that I felt with Anna. Even in bed we fit together
perfectly, and I let myself indulge in every part of her body, the pale skin
and luscious curves, the full breasts that were perfect to cup with my hands,
to kiss and lick. I let myself get lost completely to pleasure, to the taste of
her, to the shivers of pleasure her mouth and hands sent through my body, and
when Anna coxed my body to the bliss of orgasm, the only thing I could think of
was that I wanted to be with this woman forever.
            "This was the best decision I've ever made," she murmured as we lay
together afterward, stroking her fingers through my gold curls. I smiled,
leaning up to kiss her.
            "It seems like this is one of those times where somehow everything
just... comes together perfectly."
            Anna nodded, curling closer and nestling her face in my hair.
"Completely perfect."
***  
***** John and Daniel *****
John Murdoch

            I slept late the next morning, but without any lingering grogginess
that a shower couldn't take care of. I thought about the previous night,
worrying about it a little as I did. It had been good, he'd been amazing,
but... it struck me that without the kisses and touch and closeness that I
generally associated with sex I'd been left feeling... empty. But why had he
left? I tried to determine if I'd done something wrong, but still came up
blank. Best to talk to him, then.
            I found Daniel downstairs in the kitchen, already dressed as well,
talking on a com unit as he glided back and forth behind the kitchen table.
"I'm so happy for you, mein Herz. So relieved. Let me know how things go, will
you? I'd like to meet him again whenever you think it's right. Of course. Ich
liebe dich." He unhooked the com unit from his ear and turned to me with a
smile that was achingly sweet. "Ben found Larry."
            "Found him?" I felt a smile start to echo on my own lips. "How?
Where?"
            Daniel chuckled softly. "In the city. In the police force, head of
crime scene of all places. He doesn't remember, of course. They must have wiped
him and just left him to deal with later, we must have just put him back into
the city with everyone else that was sleeping, he...." He stopped and shook his
head, still smiling. "It doesn't matter. Ben is so happy. They're going for
drinks after work."
            I smiled, remembering my flash of memory of the two of them
together. A surge of relief washed over me. It seemed... right. "Thank god."
            Daniel nodded, but his smile faltered a little. "I suppose it gives
us time to look into locating the Strangers records. Shall we have breakfast
and start off?"
            I wanted to tell him to take a break, to rest, but the happenings
of the night before still weighed heavy on my mind and I wasn't quite sure how
to approach them. Instead I made an idle motion with my hand, laying the table
with assorted breakfast foods, with a hot pot of English breakfast tea and a
cup of coffee for myself. It was the same thing that the replicators did, in
any case, creating food through their imitation Tuning power. This was just
more convenient for me. Daniel sat and helped himself to a bowl of fruit salad
with muesli, but when I sat down I found I wasn't hungry, and occupied myself
with adding cream and sugar to my coffee, stirring it a little too well. Taking
a sip, I finally glanced over at him. "Last night... that wasn't just because I
wanted it, was it?"
            Daniel flushed darkly, putting down his spoon, though he carefully
avoided looking at me. "I don't give thank you blow jobs, no." He took a sip of
his tea, still staring at the teacup. "It was a mistake. I'm sorry."
            I tried to bite back the hurt that his words awoke in me. "Why do
you think it was a mistake?"
            "John, I've spent every day since they took me telling myself that
I can't get involved, that I shouldn't get involved, and then you...." he gave
a soft sigh, shaking his head.
            "But they're over with," I pushed, "they're gone. Wasn't that the
whole point of everything we went through? To give us the freedom to live our
lives however we choose?"
            "We did," he replied carefully, "and you will, and I will go back
to my practice full time to make recompense for what I have done."
            "You can stay here and still have your practice," I replied, but he
shook his head.
            "It's better that I do not. I'm sorry, John. I never intended to
stay here long term. I apologize for making you believe otherwise."
            "Then why did you make us friends in my memories?" The words came
out harsher than I intended, and I pulled back. "I just... don't know why you
made me like you if you were just planning on leaving."
            "John, I was your teacher...."
            "And my friend," I pressed. "And it was that friend that I fell
for, even when you were tutoring me in bloody calculus. Why the hell do I need
to know calculus to Tune, anyway?"
            Daniel's eyebrows knit together slightly. "... Calculus?"
            "Yeah." I gave a little helpless laugh, wrapping my hands around
the heat of my coffee cup. "Whether or not you intended it, I fell in love with
the boy I grew up with. I...." I stopped, and let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry.
I guess I didn't take into account the fact that you don't share my memories. I
just... thought you wanted us to be close."
            Daniel was still watching me with a strange expression on his face.
"Calculus. Tell me what else you remember."
            I set my coffee cup down, a bit taken aback. "You made my
memories...."
            "Humour me," Daniel urged, and he looked so intent that I couldn't
help but shrug and reply.
            "I don't know. Drawing hopscotch for Anna to play with. Seeing your
brother and Larry kissing. Playing in the sand at the beach with you...." I
paused, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks. "Oh my god. That was
from before you gave me the data infusion."
            "I didn't put any of that in your memories, John," he said softly,
watching me. "I would not have included anything would have distracted you from
learning how to Tune."
            "Then where did they come from?"
            He rose from the table, moving over to stand in front of the French
doors that lead out to the garden and the path down the cliffs to the beach,
looking out to the morning sun as it sparkling on the waves of the sea. "I
don't know. Perhaps you can answer that question for me. What else do you
remember?"
            I left my coffee at the table, following to stand behind him,
trying to think. "I don't know... bits and pieces, here and there. You helped
me study for a big math test, you were... so proud when I aced it. There was a
tree house in your back yard...." I paused, thinking back to it, more images
coming to mind. "We caught Ben and Larry having sex there once. I took you up
there alone later, I... kissed you. These memories are from before, aren't
they? From Earth. Before they took us. I knew you." I let myself stroke a hand
up to rest a hand on his shoulder, pressing up against his back to press my
face to his hair and feeling him shiver at my touch. Before I could stop myself
I was speaking the realization aloud. "I was so in love with you."
            Daniel leaned back into me, drawing a shuddering breath. "I'm not
that boy anymore, John."
            "No? You're still just as kind and patient, and passionate - "
            "I can't be with you." He twisted in my grasp, moving back. "I
can't. I'm sorry."
            "Why? You do care for me, don't you?"
            "Too much." Daniel gave a soft, choked laugh that could have been a
sob. "I mean - physically, I - I can't...."
            Suddenly everything made sense. I stared at him for a long moment,
then shook my head. "It doesn't matter. I still love you. I still want to be
with you."
            "It does to me. John, they took everything from me, everything that
made me myself, every piece of my memory - "
            "But we aren't our memories! Isn't that the answer to all of this?
The answer that they couldn't find? You're still Daniel. You're still beautiful
- "
            "How can you say that with everything they've done to me?" Daniel’s
voice was raw, expression stricken, helpless.
            I stepped into him again, slowly bringing a hand up slowly to run
the backs of my fingers along his jaw. Daniel's eyes fell closed at the touch,
a breath escaping his lips in a soft, defeated sigh, but he didn’t push me
away. So I stepped close enough to press my lips to his hair, to nuzzle the
skin above the device on his glasses where circuitry showed blue through his
skin. Gradually I let myself nuzzle his skin, slipping one hand up into his
hair and the other around his waist. "Because you’re beautiful to me. Daniel, I
just want to be with you. Nothing else matters to me."
            He leaned into me, trembling, and I drew him closer, trying to
sooth him with a soft caress of my fingers on his hair. "You say that now, but
when you've had to deal with this for years...."
            "So you think I should just let you leave and regret it for the
rest of my life?" I pulled back to search his gaze, the beautiful blue paired
with the bottomless darkness of the lens. "Tell me what to do to convince you
to stay. Please...."
            For a moment he said nothing, just watching me, searching my gaze.
Then he glanced away, wetting his lips. "... it won't be easy."
            I pressed my lips to his forehead. "Tell me."
            Daniel pressed close unexpectedly, burying his face in my neck with
a little choked sob, voice low and rough with emotion. "Fix me. God, make me
normal again. Make me human again. Get rid of this fucking thing in my eye, and
my legs - I can't...." he voice broke on the words, and I wrapped my arms
around him tightly, pressing my face to his hair.
            "Shhh, love. With Tuning? Of course I will. Anything you need."
            "It's not that easy," he replied, fingers clenching in the back of
my coat. "Do you have any idea what the human nervous system is like? The
intricacies - it would be like trying to solve a puzzle with thousands of
pieces and no photo key. To put everything back together correctly...."
            I ran my fingers through his hair. "Will it hurt you?"
            "No...."
            "Then I'd like to try."
            "It might hurt you."
            It felt good to have him in my arms, to feel him gradually relax as
we spoke, and I hoped he’d begun to accept what I was saying. I kissed his hair
again. "How?"
            "With Tuning... working the mind is like working any part of the
body. Too much work leads to fatigue, to burn out."
            "Like a red hot poker in the very base of my skull?"
            "Likely. You've felt that?"
            "During the fight with Book. It went away, though."
            Daniel gave a little nod. "Any time you feel that you need to stop,
relax, and let your mind recuperate before trying again. Regardless of what you
are doing."
            I drew back a little, kissing his forehead, the tip of his nose.
"Will you let me try, then?"
            "Even if it takes months?"
            I brushed his lips with my own, then let my forehead rest against
his. "Of course. As long as it takes, I'll be here. I promise you that. We can
start this morning, if you like."
            Daniel's hands slipped up into my hair, holding me close as his
lips found mine, soft and trembling. I stroked a hand down his back, returning
the tentative kiss gently, then more warmly as he relaxed, just enjoying the
gentle press of his mouth, the caress of his lips as we kissed. When he drew
back finally he seemed calmer, giving me a shy, hesitant little smile that made
my heart flutter. I cupped his face with one hand, brushing his cheek with my
thumb. "Do you want to start this morning?"
            He gave a little nod, and then glanced towards the table. "You
definitely need to eat first, though."
            I grinned, pressing a soft peck to his lips before pulling away.
"Yes, doctor."
            We settled finally in Daniel's bedroom, as I wanted him to be
comfortable more than anything else. I stood in front of him as he perched on
the side of the bed. "Do you want me to try and fix your eye first?"
            He hesitated, but shook his head. "No... I should probably leave it
as it is for now, at least until we're finished dealing with the Underneath.
The interface is..." Daniel sighed. "Too valuable."
            I nodded. "All right, then. Lay down for me, love?"
            "Of course. It may be easier without my shirt...."
            "I'll never argue with that," I replied with a teasing smile,
watching him unbutton his white dress shirt and the buff coloured vest over top
of it. Then he perched on the bed, legs stretched out, and reached behind his
back to disconnect the wires at the back of his neck. Immediately the device
around his legs rescinded back into the shoes like I'd seen before, turning off
completely, and he leaned forward to pull them off his feet and set them aside.
He hit a switch on the computer interface on his back, disconnecting it from
his clothes and setting it aside carefully on the bedside table. When he pushed
the shirt and vest off I could see a simple harness over his shoulders and
around his ribs that held another metal plate to his back; he unbuckled that
and set it aside with the device before looking up at me anxiously. His glasses
were last, twisting the device at his temple slightly until they came free with
an audible click, setting them carefully aside. I moved to his side and
smoothed a hand over his hair, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his mouth.
"Turn onto on your stomach for me?"
            He did so with only a little difficulty, and I sat on the bed
beside him, running my fingers down his spine. Daniel gave a soft, contented
sigh at the touch, and closing my eyes, I went to work. At first I just looked,
sent my mind out to study the patterns of matter just as he taught me. How
things were at the moment. There was a sense of wrong between two vertebrae on
his back, something twisted, a feeling that nature had been altered. That was
the damage. But how to fix it? It would be far, far more intricate than just
righting a broken building. I let my awareness extend to my own body, to the
spidery map of nerves, seeing what healthy looked like. I could compare the
two, use it to set him to rights. It would be easier with a direct physical
relationship, so I moved to kneel over his hips, resting my hands lightly on
the small of his back.
            Slowly I began to work, bit by bit, rebuilding damaged tissue,
reconnecting the nervous pathways. It was a very exacting process, as Daniel
had warned, and took all of my concentration to remain completely aware of
everything I was doing: my own body, the state of his, my awareness as I
worked. All too soon I felt the hot throb in the base of my skull that I'd
dreaded, and I pulled back my awareness with a soft sigh.
            "How is it?" Daniel asked softly.
            I frowned, smoothing a hand up and down his back slowly. "It's
intricate. I couldn't do as much as I wanted. But I think it should come easier
over time. I'm sorry."
            "It's all right," he replied, voice low and gentle. "But you can
keep doing that if you like."
            I realized I hadn't stopped stroking his back and smiled, running
my hands over the soft skin. "I can do more than just stroke, if you like. Want
me to rub your shoulders?"
            A slight hesitation before he replied, almost shyly. "Yes, please."
            I smiled, smoothing my hands over his shoulders and starting to rub
gently, feeling the muscle under the skin, the warmer, tighter points, working
my thumbs into them to help them relax. "Let me know if I'm being too rough."
            "All right. That's just fine, you can... ohh, there...."
            The little moan I pulled from his mouth was very gratifying, and I
kept working, Tuning just a little massage cream onto my fingers to work slick
over his skin. His low, pleased responses were almost sensual, but I pushed
that away, just concentrating on him. Daniel slowly melted under my touch, warm
and pliant. I smiled. "Still all right?"
            "Oh yes," he replied, giving a low groan as I worked my thumb into
a knot under his shoulder blade. "Oh god...."
            I gave a little approving noise, finding myself very much liking
his responses, the feel of his skin under my hands. I couldn’t help but find it
arousing, not while I was straddling his hips, stroking his skin and listening
to him moan. Finally I leaned him over to nuzzle the side of his neck, letting
my breath tease his ear. "My beautiful Daniel."
            The gasp he gave in response sounded almost as aroused as I felt.
"John...."
            "Mmhmm?" I nuzzled around the shell of his ear, deciding to see how
far he'd let me take this.
            Daniel seemed unsure himself. "I - you...."
            I placed a soft kiss under his ear. "If I want to just cuddle with
you and kiss you for a while, is that all right?"
            "I'd like that," he replied softly, turning and looking up at me
rather shyly as I shifted off of him and he pushed himself up onto his side. I
pressed close, gathering him up in my arms and claiming his mouth with my own,
intending something gentle and teasing but receiving something rather more
hungry in return. Daniel gave a low moan into my mouth, catching my bottom lip
in his and sucking at it, fingers slipping up into my hair to urge me closer.
That I was definitely all for, tracing the curves of his mouth with the tip of
my tongue, tasting him deeper as his lips parted to mine. I stroked up and down
his back as we kissed, teasing my fingers up his side in a slow, feather-light
caress that made him shiver under me, moan helplessly into my mouth.
            It was nice just to concentrate on kisses, to be able to explore
his bare skin with my hands, stroking gently just to see what made him shiver
and gasp. Daniel's kisses became hungrier, nipping at my bottom lip lightly,
tasting me back, tongue sliding against my own as we both grew more breathless.
Finally I broke from his mouth to kiss along his jaw, sucking and lathing his
skin with my tongue, nipping lightly at the soft skin just under his ear.
            Daniel's answering groan was nothing short of wanton, fingers
digging into my back. "Oh god, do that again."
            "This?" I caught his earlobe between my teeth, tugging on it,
sucking gently.
            "That too. Gentle, I - I'm sensitive...."
            "Won't hurt you," I murmured, nuzzling his ear, tracing the curves
of it with my tongue. "Just tell me if you want me to stop." I kept teasing his
side, drawing my thumbnail lightly up his skin. He gave a little whimpering
moan, arching closer to me, trembling a little in my touch as I continued to
lavish affection on his ear. I started down the side of his neck, licking and
teasing the skin, sucking gently, then a little harder as he encouraged more.
Nipping at the crook of his neck produced another one of those delicious little
whimpering moans, so I did it again, biting just a little harder, worrying at
the muscle with my teeth.
            "Will you take your shirt off for me?" Daniel's request came shyly
through parted lips that were flushed from our kisses, one hand moving to tug
the buttons undone. I nodded, helping him and pulling away only long enough to
shrug out of it.
            "I'll do anything you want. But I'd really like to just spoil you
for the time being." I claimed his mouth again, and his kisses were warmer, a
little more urgent, stroking his hands hungrily over my bare chest.
            "You're too kind to me," he murmured against my lips, drawing a
sharp hiss as my fingers found one nipple, circling it with my thumb before
drawing it over the hardened peak. "Oh god..."
            The taste of his skin and the sound of his pleasure made me almost
madly aroused. But I could set that aside for now. I wanted just to focus on
him. "Feels so good to be close to you," I murmured, kissing down his throat
again, licking over the pink kiss bruise I could see on the crook of his neck
before nipping and sucking at his collarbone. "So right...."

            "Yes," he breathed, smoothing his arms around my waist and holding
close. "God, John... more, please...."
            "Let me know if it's too much," I murmured before delivering
another, harder nip to his collarbone, then nuzzling up to tease the side of
his neck, teasing his skin with the drag of my teeth, rubbing my thumb over the
hardened nub of his nipple and squeezing gently.
            "Just don't stop," he gasped, fingers clenching at my back,
whimpering as I squeezed his nipple gently, rolling it between my fingers. I
trailed little kisses and nips up and down the side of his neck, nipping at his
earlobe and sucking on it, tugging on it with my teeth before tracing the shell
of his ear with my tongue. The mix of sensations seemed to make him go wild,
pulling throaty little moans from his lips with each breath. I moved my hand
from one nipple to the other, repeating the same treatment as I bit down on the
crook of his neck again. Daniel jerked tense against me unexpectedly, fingers
biting into my back almost painfully hard as he shuddered against me, giving a
gasped cry that sounded almost surprised. "Oh - !"
            I stopped immediately, holding him tight. "Did I hurt you?"
            "No," He managed to gasp, still trembling, burying his face in my
neck, breathing hard. "No, I just - oh god...."
            I stroked my fingers through his hair and down his back gently,
puzzled but willing to take my cues from him. "You all right, love?"
            "Yes." Daniel gave a breathless, incredulous laugh, relaxing more
against me. "Oh yes. I... that felt... I think I came."
            That was unexpected. Still, I found myself smiling, a warm rush of
pleasure moving through me. "Is that so? Well... there are women who say they
can come just from that kind of stimulation...."
            "Yes." He laughed softly again, and this time it was beautifully,
completely carefree. "Yes, of course. My real body is so much more sensitive
then when I borrow a shell...." He pulled back enough to kiss me, soft and warm
and tender, again and again. "Thank you. Oh god, John...."
            "Just want to make you feel good," I replied softly, drawing a
sharp breath as his fingers slipped down to whisper over my erection through my
slacks.
            "Feel so good," he breathed back, stroking me a little more firmly
through my pants, tugging the button undone. "May I return the favour?"
            I gave a soft groan into his mouth, arching up into his touch.
"Just touch me like this. Just want to be close to you...."
            Daniel gave a little nod, and I helped him tug down my pants and
boxers enough that he could free me, curling his fingers around me and stroking
slowly, mapping my lips with slow, warm kisses. "The heart remembers what the
mind cannot," he murmured, stroking me a little more firmly. "I've seen it time
and time again, and it's so beautiful. I thought I'd never find something like
that, not until I met you. I do love you, John. I don't know how, but I do. My
heart knows you. I love you so much."
            "Daniel..." the sweetness of his words left me all but speechless,
clinging tightly to him as his fingers skilfully worked my cock, slick with my
arousal, sending shudders of pleasure up my spine. "Love you...."
            "I'll stay forever," he murmured, breathless. "I promise. Want to
spend every day with you, every night in your arms. Want to taste every inch of
your body. Want to feel you inside me when I'm well, feel you claim me, feel
you come inside me...."
            "God - !" I bit down on my bottom lip, shuddering at the surge of
pleasure his words sent through me, bucking up into his fingers. "My
Daniel....!"
            "Come for me, love," Daniel murmured, and that was all I could
handle before I was coming, crying out into his mouth, spurting slick in his
fingers as the waves of sensation shuddered through my body. Daniel drew me
through it gently with soft, encouraging murmurs, watching me with a little
smile as he brought his hand to his lips and sucked one finger clean.
            I laughed, breathless and boneless, kissing him warmly to taste my
seed in his mouth. "You're completely amazing."
            "You're the amazing one," he replied with a little appreciative
chuckle, returning my kiss. "I'm sorry I left last night."
            "You're forgiven," I replied, nuzzling his jaw. "You can make it up
to me by staying in bed with me now and being lazy all day." Daniel chuckled,
letting me pull away to stand, letting my clothes fall and stepping out of
them, coming back with a warm facecloth and wiping the streaks of my come from
his stomach and fingers. "One of us made a mess of your pants, I'm afraid."
            "I told you that you made me come," he replied, holding his arms
out to me with a smile that was both fond and shy, and completely adorable. I
made the washcloth conveniently disappear, curling up to him again, pressing a
warm kiss to his forehead.
            "Love you," I murmured. "Thank you for doing this for me."
            "Thank you for being so patient with me," he replied, curling
closer, warm and solid and so familiar in my arms.
            "Thank for never giving up on me," I replied, because it was the
truth.

***

***** Larry Quinn *****
Larry Quinn

            I hadn't expected to like the new Deputy Superintendent at all,
which had a little to do with him being a transfer rather than someone from
inside our force, our city, but more to do with my horrible working
relationship with the previous Deputy Super, who'd been very 'my way or the
highway' about his approach to work. I was happily surprised to find that Ben
Carson was anything but. Of course he'd come highly recommended with invaluable
experience from his old city, but I still hadn't expected him to be so easily
reasonable and likable. And not just because he was cute.
            Though he was.
            Absolutely, mind-blowingly drop dead gorgeous.
            I was a little surprised that I'd managed to speak coherently at
all, let alone ask the man out for a drink. Somewhere along the lines though,
in deciding that the man was handsome my mind had reverted to more familiar
patterns, patterns I was more comfortable with. Not necessarily ones I had ever
used before at work, but easy enough to convert. How to judge a new
acquaintance, how to interact in a way that was, if not flirting, at least
inviting familiarity. God, I wanted familiarity. And so I could see something
in the way he looked at me that encouraged me, a longing that was almost
palatable, though he did an admirable job of keeping our interactions clearly
professional.
            I couldn't be completely certain, not yet, but hopefully time would
take care of that. I was certain of the desire I saw in his eyes, so I'd just
have to dance the careful steps of trying to determine if he wanted something
more than professional or strictly friendly without coming on too strong or
being offensive. At least his dragon seemed to like me - adore was probably a
more accurate term - and that had to be a good sign.
            I found him in his office at the end of shift with the door open,
staring at a projected display above his desk with eyebrows knit. He drummed
out a command on the touch screen on the desk, frowned, then picked up a
viewing tablet, scrolling through the data while looking slightly more
perplexed. I knocked lightly on the door just as the dragon that was perched on
my shoulder announced our presence with a trill. "System giving you fits?"
            Ben glanced up, relaxing immediately and giving a soft, embarrassed
laugh. "I'm fucking useless with technology. Things are set up a bit different
here from my last office. Just trying to get the end of days in, sorry Larry."
            "Hey, no worries. Want me to give you a hand?"
            "Would you?" He looked grateful, leaning back in his chair and
stretching with a soft groan, and it took me a moment to remember that I wasn't
supposed to be admiring the way his suit jacket pulled open across his chest
and the hint of well-muscled shoulders.
            I rounded the desk, leaning over to see where he was. "Oh god, did
they update the process guide again? I don't know why they force people to
learn the most tedious way possible. There's a much easier workaround for it,
and we'll set up a macro on your desktop to auto-encrypt the data with the
weekly cipher and transmit it, all you'll have to do is run it on the file."
            "Okay," Ben said slowly, looking up at me. "I thought only IT could
do that?"
            "When they're not playing ping pong?" I grinned, backing out of the
half finished process and talking him through it as I set up the macro, then
walked him through using it to submit the reports. "Perfect. Bada bing boom,
let’s get the hell out of here and get a beer."
            Ben's smile was warm and seemed almost affectionate. "Thanks, Lar.
First round's on me."
            "Deal. You have great taste in liquor, by the way. All these
fashionable, premium super customized micro filtered whiskeys and vodkas that
are so fashionable are too uptight and pretentious sometimes. Need to just kick
back with a beer." The short form of my name didn't quite register until I was
halfway through my rant on alcohol, but I smiled as I thought about it.
Familiar.
            "A man after my own heart," he replied with a grin, pulling on his
overcoat and following me down to the parkade. "Should we go together?"
            I shrugged. "Might as well, it's not that far. I can program it
into your car so you can get there again if you don't mind swinging back here
afterward to drop me off."
            "Sounds good to me," he replied. His hover car was a fairly new
sedan in electric blue, fairly sedate until you got inside, where it was decked
out with all the bells and whistles including reclining back seats and a small
food replicator. I quirked an eyebrow. "Useless with technology?"
            Ben chuckled, settling in the driver's seat. "A friend talked me
into it, but thankfully he set everything up on voice command. Figured it was
easiest to just relocate myself, so I sold everything off and packed the
essentials into the car."
            "Nice." I programmed the co-ordinates to the pub into his car and
saved them, sitting back in the passenger seat as we started out. I'd been
tempted to take him to a predominantly gay club, but that would be disastrous
if I'd read him wrong. This one had a relaxed atmosphere with a good mix of all
types, and most importantly wasn't a cop favourite. "How are you liking it so
far?"
            "It's big here," he said with a chuckle, "But I like it. My younger
brother's been living here for years, so it's good to be close to him again."
            "Yeah?" I tried not to imagine another Ben. "What does he do?"
            "Psychiatrist. He's amazing, I'd never have the patience for it."
            I chuckled. "Me neither. Good men, though. Seen them work wonders."
I hopped out of the car as we arrived, waiting for him on the sidewalk before
heading inside. His hand rested against my elbow for a few moments as we
walked, and I leaned into him, just a little, the casual familiarity giving me
a warm shiver in the base of my stomach. Inside I nodded to one of the
waitresses I was familiar with and found a booth in her area, slipping in with
him. The holo-display in the center of the pub was replaying a recent Grav-
Hockey game, and he stared at it, transfixed. I watched him with a grin. "You a
fan?"
            "Yeah, well... sort of. It didn't really catch on where I was
living but I played a lot of floor hockey growing up... how does it work?"
            "Not too different," I replied, more than happy to expound on a
personal passion. "More challenging, though, if you can believe it. The hover
gear keeps you afloat but the propulsion is all personal effort, it's really
ingenious. In game play the puck can still hit the sides, but it needs player
contact within a certain amount of time to keep it hovering, and if it hits the
bottom the game goes to a face off in the zone of the team that last passed the
puck." I watched him smile, nodding slowly as he took in the game. "We've got a
league at work if you're interested, I could show you the ropes. Practice area
is in sub C with the gym. You still train, don't you."
            Ben grinned, pausing to order a beer from the waitress as she came
by, which I did as well. "Don't want to get soft behind a desk. You too?"
            I nodded. "I run, mostly. And play on CSU's team. The gym is just
basic, none of the fancy Virtual Reality workouts or personal trainers anything
like that, but I think it's good for the men to see Supers down there as
well... that way they know we're not getting soft."
            "Not a bad strategy. Good for morale. I like it." His smile was
approving. "People say you're a good leader and a good boss. I like that too."
            I gave a shrug, feeling my cheeks heat under the kind of praise I'd
normally shrug off. Why did it feel so different coming from him? "Just try to
do right by my men, that's all."
            "Then I'll try to undo my predecessor's cock blocking," Ben
replied, thanking the waitress for the beer and taking a sip. "Good stuff."
            I tried not to think about anything to do with cock. "They get it
from one of the city's best microbreweries, brew it up real. Replicators are
shit at making beer. Food isn't all that better. If you're hungry we can go to
a real restaurant later, this place just has replicator fare. No use paying for
something you can get from your own kitchen."
            "Amen to that." Ben glanced back to the grav-hockey game for a
moment, looking contemplative. "The leagues at work are bureau based?"
            "Yep. Things get pretty heated around playoff time."
            "What if we re-sorted the teams and did a round robin tournament?
Think the other heads would be up for it?"
            I laughed, immediately liking the idea. "It'll be chaos, no one
will know who to cheer for. I love it. They'll love it. Think the chief will
give the green light?"
            "I think we can talk him into it," Ben replied. "I am serious about
getting our men more in tune, Organized Crime had the same concerns as you did
- pretty much everyone but Cyber and Movies, actually. I'm going to talk to the
enforcement bureau chiefs about it tomorrow."
            "It won't be easy," I told him, watching the way his fingers
grasped the glass, the complete attention in the blue eyes that watched me.
"It's been about 'us' versus 'them' for so long. Changing an entire mentality's
going to take time."
            Ben nodded slowly, sitting back and letting his free hand rest next
to mine on the bench between us, relaxed and unassuming. He took another sip of
his beer. "It's definitely something to be encouraged and nurtured. It'll be
easier that it's starting with us, that our relationship is genuine and not
forced." His blue eyes were intent, as if reading me, and I decided to take the
chance, letting my hand move closer, letting my pinkie finger rest over his.
            "How genuine?" I asked softly, still holding his gaze.
            Ben seemed to relax at the touch of my hand, and took my hand in
his boldly, twining our fingers together. "How genuine would you like it to
be?"
            I shifted closer to him, grinning at the rush of nervous excitement
that ran through me at the clasp of his hand. The dragon on my shoulder gave a
happy little trill. "I've wanted to ask you that question all day. But I'm not
- I know we just met, but I don't just fuck around with relationships and I've
never dated a co-worker, so....”
            He nodded slowly, looking down at our hands. "We can play it by
ear, see how things go... if either one of us wants out we'll just go back to
business?"
            "I'd like that." I'd had amicable separations with lovers before,
though I hoped it wouldn't come to that. There was something about Ben that
made him very comfortable to be around, like I'd known him my whole life.
            Like I'd loved him my whole life.
            I watched him, stroking the back of his hand with my thumb. "Do you
believe in fate?"
            "That everything happens for a reason to guide us to a certain
place? I... didn't used to. I'm starting to have second thoughts," he said
slowly, lifting his gaze to mine again. "Do you believe in love at first
sight?"
            "I didn't used to," I echoed, watching him, feeling the strangest
ache in my heart. "Didn't know if it was possible to know someone well enough
to love them on first meeting."
            "Maybe it's possible to remember someone you've known before," Ben
suggested carefully, still watching my face. "Before this life."
            I chuckled softly. "You believe in reincarnation?"
            He shrugged. "It's as good a theory as the afterlife. I do like the
underlying values of being rewarded for good deeds and growth, and of souls
that follow each other. It's... kind of a silly, romantic notion, I know,
but...."
            "I like it," I said softly, squeezing his hand and wanting very
much to kiss him. I finished my beer. "You want to go someplace else to eat and
talk?"
            He hesitated for a moment, considering, then nodded slowly. "I can
cook you something real if you want to hang out at my place. I haven't really
done any kind of decorating yet, but...."
            The thought of someplace private was even better. "No, that sounds
great. I'd really like that, Ben."
            Ben's smile was almost overwhelmingly sweet, and he nodded,
bringing my hand to his lips and pressing a brief kiss to the back of my
knuckles. My breath caught in my throat, and he gave an apologetic chuckle.
"Too much?"
            I managed to shake my head. "No. No, not at all." I leaned in
before I could stop myself, pressing a soft, trembling kiss to his mouth which
he returned with a barely audible whimper before pulling back with a strange,
dark intensity in his eyes that I couldn't quite identify.
            Ben closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself, and when he
spoke his voice was a throaty kind of rumble that went straight down my spine.
"Let’s go." He let go of my hand to pull a wallet out of his back pocket,
leaving cash in the table and pushing my own wallet back towards me when I
pulled it out. Then he took my elbow for real this time, taking me back out to
the car and opening the door for me.
            I grinned at him as I got in. "A gentleman."
            "For you," he replied softly, shutting the door and getting in
himself. He punched in a code that registered as 'home', and the hover-car rose
and started off. He watched me silently, eyebrows knit together a little.
"Larry... there's something I should tell you...."
            I braced myself. "You're with someone? Someone back in your old
city?"
            Ben gave a soft laugh and shook his head. "Oh god, no. Nothing like
that. I just...." He was silent for a long moment, then reached over to take my
hand again, giving a little shake of his head. "I don't just fuck around
either."
            His intensity was beautiful. Reason tried to tell me that this was
all happening too fast, too soon. But if that was the case, why did it feel so
natural to be with him... so familiar? I smiled, squeezing his hand gently.
"Good."
            His apartment was one of the many cookie cutter apartments in the
city, done in white and grey with basic furniture, ready for personalization.
It was upscale and fitting for his position with a nice view of the city and
what looked like two bedrooms and an office. The only thing of note was a large
decorative kimono hanging on one wall. I stared at it as I slipped out of my
shoes. "That's beautiful. Is it famous? I feel like I've seen it somewhere
before."
            Ben looked a little surprised when he looked over at me, watching
me with wide eyes. "No, no, it's just...." He stopped, just staring for a
moment, then stepped forward to take my face in his hands, pressing his mouth
to mine. "God, Lar..."
            I gave a soft groan into his mouth, slipping my arms around his
waist and pulling him to me. For all the restraint he'd shown in the pub there
was none of that now, kisses hot and hungry and demanding, sucking at my lips
and tongue, his fingers clenched tight in my hair. It felt like I'd waited
forever to be kissed like this, to find the perfect union of our lips, the
incredible thrill of arousal it awoke in me. All I could feel was the heat
between us, shivering through my body from every place we touched. I slipped my
hands down to cup his ass, stroking over the perfect tight muscles, feeling a
shock of desire at the way it made him groan and grind against me.
            The dragon on my shoulder, half forgotten, gave an excited little
trill, startling the both of us, and Ben pulled back, chuckling softly. "Sorry
about that. Come here, Kuro. Time to sleep."
            It - he - gave a little mournful cry that made me feel rather
guilty for abandoning him, but Ben stroked his hands soothingly down the length
of his body, taking him over to what looked like a white padded cave in the
shape of a cube that sat on one of the living room end tables. "Don't act so
hard done by, you can come cuddle later. Now is alone time. You know this.
There you go." Ben turned back to me with a little apologetic smile. "Um...
he'll probably be back if we don't... go somewhere more private."
            "Oh he will, will he?" I gave him a warm smile, crossing the room
to slip my hands into his, pressing a soft kiss just under his ear. "If you're
asking me to go to bed with you I won't say no, handsome."
            Ben gave a shivering breath against my ear, hands tightening on
mine, and I pressed closer, nuzzling his hair. "You okay, Ben? Don't have to do
anything you don't want to. And I go either way, so... whatever you want."
            "I do want," Ben replied, voice low, face pressed to my hair. "I
very much want. I'm sorry, I just... I was married some time ago, it... ended
badly. She found someone else. I just... thought I'd never find...."
            "Shhh..." I pulled back enough to kiss him, long and slow and warm,
heart aching at the thought of this amazing man being hurt. "If this is too
fast...."
            "No. No." Ben let go of my hands, cupping my face as he drew back
to search my eyes, fingers smoothing over my cheekbones and along my jaw. It
felt almost as if he was trying to convince himself that I was really here. I
gave him a warm smile, hoping to be reassuring, and he returned it with a
little relief, brushing his thumb against my bottom lip. "You have the most
gorgeous mouth, you know."
            I felt the same shivery rush of warmth and self confidence that I'd
felt the first time he'd complimented me and smiled, kissing the pad of his
thumb. "Just wait 'till you see what it can do to you."
            Ben's eyes narrowed slightly, appreciatively. He slipped one arm
around my waist, tugging me back towards the hall. "Let’s go."
            Once we were inside the master bedroom I have to admit that there
wasn't much in the way of finesse or restraint. I leaned in to catch Ben's
mouth again, warm and yearning, stroking my hands into his undone suit jacket
and around his waist, pulling him against me again. It was easy to get lost in
the taste of his mouth, in the feel of his hands on my body, the press of his
hips to mine. I let myself cup his ass again, rewarded by the same groan of
desire, Ben's hips rocking harder against mine, his cock pressed hard against
my own through the fine fabric of suit pants. Ben's kisses held a tinge of
desperation, his hands stroking over my shoulders and chest and back as he
tugged off my clothes, as if needing to touch as much of me as possible. I
answered with the same desire, tugging his tie loose to attack his shirt
buttons. He kissed along my jaw, breath hot on my skin, words low and husky.
"God, you're beautiful. So beautiful, Lar. Don't ever let me...."
            I was never sure of what he was going to say, because with our
clothes finally scattered on the hardwood Ben pressed a final kiss to my mouth
before slipping to his knees, fingers clenching at my hips as he licked a wet
stripe up the underside of my erection. I ran my fingers through his hair,
tugging just a little at the short gold spikes, groaning as I watched his
beautiful lips part over the head of my cock. "Jesus, Ben...."
            Ben gave an appreciative hum around me, lips sliding halfway down
my shaft before pulling back, lavishing attention on my head with his tongue
and a teasing drag of his teeth. He was attentive and amazingly talented,
somehow knowing just how to press his tongue against me to send a flood of
sensation through me. "Oh god, you're incredible at that. Fuck, Ben..."
            He looked up at me through his eyelashes as he took more of my
cock, eyes dark and hungry and cheeks hollowed as he sucked me, and fuck if it
wasn't the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. I bit my lip on a groan, bucking a
little deeper in his mouth. "You want to fuck me, handsome? Would love to feel
you inside me."
            It wasn't idle chatter - he had a gorgeous cock, standing stiff and
proud in its nest of ashen curls between well muscled thighs. I wanted to suck
it, to swallow it down and let him fuck my mouth, to taste his come on my
tongue. I wanted more to ride him, to feel my body stretch and yield to his
girth, to rock down onto him until the pleasure of it drove me insane. Ben
pulled back with a soft sigh, though, looking up at me and wetting his lips.
"Will you fuck me this time? Can switch later if you like, it's just... been
awhile."
            I ran a thumb over his cheekbone with a smile. "Told you I'd do
anything you wanted, love. Would love to be inside your tight ass...."
            Ben gave a soft groan, pressing a kiss to my palm before pulling
away, pulling open the bedside drawer to grab a bottle of lube which was left
on the bed. Then he got to his feet, breathless, glancing to the bed and
pulling aside the covers and pillows to kneel facing the headboard, grabbing
hold of it to brace himself. "Like this?"
            "Perfect." I grabbed the lube and knelt against his side, nuzzling
along his shoulder before kissing up his neck, smiling at his soft moan of
pleasure. I continued as I worked one slick finger inside him, drawing a sharp
breath at his groan of pleasure, fucking him slowly and searching carefully
until I teased the point that made him whimper in pleasure. "God, you have a
beautiful ass. So tight, so hot...." I curled my fingers around his thick cock
as I worked a second finger inside, stroking him slowly, thumb swiping through
the slick of arousal on the head of his cock. I continued working and
stretching his ass, drunk on his sounds of pleasure and the way he pressed back
against my fingers. "So fucking hot."
            When I went up to three Ben's hips gave a little buck, his voice
low and rough. "Enough. Please, Lar...."
            I twisted to kiss the corner of his mouth, kissing him deeper as he
turned into the kiss, nipping at my bottom lip, his tongue questing for my own.
His kisses were hard and trembling and needy, and he gave a soft whine against
my mouth as I pulled my fingers away to slick my cock with lube. "Gonna be
easier with our height if you keep your thighs together, think you can do that
for me, love?" He nodded, and I shifted behind him as I did, kneeling on either
side of his calves. I nuzzled the back of his neck, kissing the skin softly as
I teased him with the head of my cock, one arm wrapped around his hips to
steady him, slowly starting to rock into him.
            "Fuck...." Ben's breath caught on the whimpered word, trying to
press back onto me, working with me surprisingly easily as I took him with slow
rocks of my hips until I was sheathed inside. I pressed my face to the crook of
his neck, tightening both my arms around his hips to keep him still, just
revelling in the clench and flutter of his body as he adjusted to our union. He
gave a soft whimper. "Larry, please. I'm good for this. God, just fuck me."
            He gave a low groan as I eased back and filled him again with a
harder thrust, my breath catching at the feel of his heat surrounding me. The
position made him tight, but he seemed to love it, his cock still hard as I
wrapped my fingers around him, stroking the lube left on them up and down his
shaft. "So tight, gorgeous," I breathed, mouthing up the side of his neck as I
kept moving slowly. "You feel so good. Oh god...."
            "You have no idea," he managed to breathe, falling into rhythm with
my slow thrusts. "Oh fuck, harder...."
            I braced one hand on the headboard next to his to steady myself,
changing the angle of my thrusts as I complied with his request, groaning with
the shuddering cry they drove from his lips. It was surprisingly intimate to be
with him like this, pressed against his well-muscled back as we moved together,
our skin heated, slick with sweat. Ben's hand moved to cover mine on the
headboard, holding it tightly, and I closed my eyes for a moment, nuzzling his
hair. I wanted this always, to be with him every day, bodies tangled together
in passion and love. Together. Whole. "My Ben," I breathed, rocking up a little
harder, letting my thrusts drive his cock into the slick grip of my hand.
"Beautiful Ben."
            "Don't stop," he breathed, arching back against me, and since I
wasn't sure if he meant fucking or speaking to him I continued both, happily.
            "Not going to stop, lover. Couldn't bear to. Feels so - damn - good
to be with you, god...." I fought to keep my thrusts steady, shuddering with
the build of pleasure, clinging to restraint. "So sweet, so amazing, and god,
your body... fuck, Ben!"
            "Come inside me." Ben's request was gasped and thick with urgency,
hips jerking back into me. "Please."
            My body complied almost before he'd finished speaking, pleasure
rushing through me as I continued to buck up into him, coming inside him in hot
spurts. Ben rocked back against me with a choked sob as he followed me, his
hand clenching mine almost painfully tight. "Oh god, Larry - !"
            I took him through orgasm with gentle rocks of my hips, drawing out
my own pleasure in little shivers, stroking every last drop of come from his
cock. I nuzzled his shoulder as he did, pressing soft kisses along his jaw as
he turned his face to mine, pressed back against my body, I could feel a little
shiver run though him, hear it in his breath, and I let go of the headboard to
wrap both arms around him tightly, stroking his chest, kissing him gently. "You
okay, lover?"
            Ben nodded, not saying anything, just returning my kisses gently as
he slowly relaxed into me. I continued my gentle caress of his chest, pressing
a kiss to the corner of his eyes. "Can we stay here for a bit before we start
thinking about food?"
            "Please." His breath caught as I eased away from him, and he let
out a long exhalation before finally letting go of the headboard. "Just let me
grab something to clean up with."
            "I'll come with you." It was easier to fuss over him in the
bathroom, stealing the washcloth from him and trading soft kisses as I wiped
down his chest and stomach.
            He pulled me close when we were back in bed, and I curled up
against his chest, nuzzling the crook of his neck and closing my eyes to the
slow caress of his fingers through my hair. There was a strange feeling to this
all, an overwhelming sense that this was somehow right, like I'd never belonged
before I found the warm security of his arms. I loved him; I knew what love was
and was not, and I knew that for certain. I loved him, even if I didn't know
how, and when we'd been together long enough that it wouldn't seem clingy or
creepy I'd tell him.
            Ben pressed a kiss to my temple, stroking his fingers through my
hair. "Lar, you okay?"
            I looked up at him and smiled, feeling somehow like everything was
right. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine."

***

***** Epilogue: Daniel Schreber *****
Daniel Schreber

            I stepped out the back door of our home in Shell Beach to see my
brother close the lid of one barbeque. "All right. Should be able to start
basting the ribs in about fifteen minutes. In the meantime, we should prep the
lobster tails, they only take about ten minutes on the grill."
            John was watching him with arms folded. "I still don't see why I
can't just Tune them."
            "Real cooking gives it more succulence," Ben replied with a little
smile, inclining his head towards me at the door. "Let’s go inside. You need
anything, liebling?"
            I held up a two bottles of beer, ice cold, and handed one to Ben.
"Just thought you hardworking boys might like some refreshment. Larry suggested
it, but he's up to his elbows in potato salad."
            "Smart man," John replied, taking one from me as he followed Ben
and me into the house.
            "It's why I keep him around," Ben remarked, opening the beer and
taking a sip. He pressed a kiss to Larry's cheek as he passed him in the
kitchen, opening the fridge to take out a bowl of lobster tails, finding knives
in my drawers. He handed a tail to John and took one himself. "Now, we have to
butterfly the tail - cut open the underside and pull the flesh up on top - and
then skewer it so it doesn't curl up while cooking...." He frowned as John
handed him a perfectly butterflied - and tuned - lobster tail. On his shoulder,
Kuronue gave a disapproving squawk. "That's cheating."
            "It's not cooking it," John replied with a grin.
            I laughed, leaving to answer the front door. They all knew about
the city again now; Anna and May had come to me a few months after the sun rose
being very troubled by dreams they'd both had involving May being a prostitute
and Anna being married to her brother, and after discussion with John we
decided it was best to show them the truth. Larry had been a little more
difficult, starting with a 3am call from Ben to report that Larry had somehow
turned female in the middle of the night and could we please come out before he
woke up? After a good degree of panic he'd agreed to a data infusion to update
him on the events he was missing and teach him how to control the ability. It
wasn't something he needed to use any longer beyond the occasional gag, but it
was good to have him back in the know.
            The girls had come out from the city with Frank and Leon, and I
embraced them both at the door, then Leon, exchanging a firm handshake with
Frank and taking the box of beer he'd brought to fill up the fridge. We didn't
often manage to all get together, but somehow today had conveniently become a
civic holiday, and we'd all agreed that whatever happened, we'd always meet
every year on this day.
            With barbequing complete and the table in our back yard covered
with various salads, and steaming meat hot off the barbeque, everyone got
themselves seated with their drink of choice. I stood before anyone could say
anything, lifting a glass of red wine. "I'm very glad that you could all make
it here today, we're so very happy to have you. I won't take so long that this
delicious food goes cold, but I did want to say a few words. A year ago today
we were all alone and in darkness. So we celebrate today not only the changes
that have been made - the chance to live our lives according to our own wishes
in the warmth and sunlight - but the efforts and sacrifice of all those who
worked so hard to see it happen. So I'd like to toast to everyone here, to all
my friends and saviours. Thank you. Happy Jour du Soleil."
            "And to our brilliant mastermind Daniel," Ben added before anyone
else could, standing and clinking his glass against mine with a grin. "Happy
Jour du Soleil."
            I flushed, but exchanged toasts with everyone, watching their
smiles, listening to laughter and returns of the day. Ben stayed standing as I
sat down, though, and cleared his throat, setting his beer down on the table.
"Sorry to drag this on, but before you dig in, um. We have announcement." He
seemed to falter with our attention turned to him, so Larry grinned.
            "I'm pregnant."
            John snorted. "Hey, even I can't make that happen."
            Ben chuckled. "He's not pregnant. But we are getting married."
            On the other side of the table, Frank choked on his beer. "You're
kidding me. I have enough trouble covering for you two already when you're just
taking vacation together. How the hell am I supposed to hide marriage?"
            "You shouldn't have to hide it." Leon was grinning as he spoke. "I
checked into it, the 'No Fraternization' rule only applies if one party reports
to the other. They're fine as long as neither of them wants your job."
            Frank quirked an eyebrow. "You knew about this?"
            Leon's smile was oozing innocence - something he seemed
particularly good at, somehow. "Not at all, sir."
            "Forget them." John stood and rounded the table, wrapping his arms
around each of them and squeezing. "Congratulations, both of you. Took you
bloody long enough. Can I plan the bachelor party?"
            Larry laughed. "Which one?"
            "Well, both of them, of course."
            May was sipping her cocktail thoughtfully, and glanced over at
Anna. "We could do a new song for the wedding, couldn't we? Something not quite
so electronic, of course."
            Anna nodded, looking over with a smile. "Of course. If they'd
like."
            "We'd love that," Ben returned with a smile. "That would be
amazing, we'd love to have you perform."
            Larry glanced up to John as he sat back down. "Your turn next, you
know."
            "Yeah." Ben grinned, joining the tease. "When are you going to make
an honest man out of my baby brother?"
            John laughed, holding up his hands. "Hey, don't look at me, I'm not
the one that needs convincing."
            "I happen to enjoy living in sin," I replied simply, taking a
lobster tail from the plate and beginning to cut it from its shell. "And the
food is getting cold."
            "Come on, liebling. Ben leaned over to press a kiss to my hair as
people started to help themselves. "What do you have against it?"
            I shook my head. "Nothing for other people. But I don't think
marriage is necessary to validate love to the outside world."
            Larry was still grinning. "But it is a fantastic excuse to throw a
party and then spend a couple weeks vacation fucking. Making love. Pardon my
French."
            May snorted. "My virgin ears."
            "Well I was more concerned about Frank."
            "He doesn't have virgin anything," Leon said casually, grinning and
leaning over to press a kiss to his lover's cheek. "You can thank me for that
when we get home."
            "You're completely incorrigible," Frank replied, though I could see
a smile twitching at the edges of his disapproving frown. He glanced up to Ben
and Larry. "As long as you leave people in charge that are capable enough that
the office doesn't explode without you."
            "Deal," Larry replied with a grin.
            Ben was still watching me smiling fondly. "Maybe you'll change your
mind about weddings after you give me away, liebling? If you're willing, of
course."
            The request, though not unexpected, was still flattering. I smiled
and nodded, keeping my voice soft. "Of course I will, mein Herz. Perhaps I will
change my mind, now that I can actually walk down the aisle."
            "Perfect," Ben replied, reaching over to squeeze my hand, and I
looked over to John to find him smiling, warm and adoring.
            "And you'll stand at my side as well?"
            I nodded, squeezing his hand back. "Proudly, love. Have you planned
anything yet?"
            "Not too much. We're still torn between dress uniforms and kilts,
so we might switch between both. And then..." he glanced over to where Frank
was talking with May, and lowered his voice a little more. "Hoping the boss
will perform the ceremony, but we'll broach that when he gets used to the
idea."
            I chuckled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Good idea.
Congratulations, mein Herz."

            "Thank you." He glanced down at the table for a moment, oblivious
to the ribs that had been dropped on his plate. "Do you think mom and dad would
be proud?"
            "You remember more of them than I do," I pointed out, and he
nodded.
            "It's true... just not a lot, I'm usually focused on you or Larry.
They always seemed very busy. I remember they didn't want me to become a cop."
            John and I had found, in the course of our searches of the
underground, that the Strangers had taken people only between the ages of
sixteen and thirty, though we hadn't been able to figure out why. If our
parents were still alive they were back on earth, with both their children
gone. I gave Ben a warm smile. "I am quite certain that they would care only
that we are safe and happy," I replied. "And I don't think they could be
anything but proud of all the good you've done, Ben."
            He smiled warmly and nodded. "Thank you."
            It had been six months since I'd worn anything other than the
simple spectacles of brass and glass, six months since I'd needed the
levitation device that gave me control over my lower body. John had been there
through all of it, more patient than I could ever have imagined, and in the
warmth and security of the sunlight and his arms I'd slowly began to feel
normal again. Sometimes I could even forget, if just for a few moments, the
cold and darkness of my long servitude.
            We ate and drank as the sun went down, laughing, finally giving up
the table for comfortable patio furniture around a small fire pit. At one point
in time John had declared that the next person to talk about work had to tell a
dirty sex story as punishment, though it was quickly vetoed by certain people's
enthusiasm and Larry's suggestion to turn it into a challenge. John had Tuned
up plates of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies that were far more delicious
than anything to come out of a replicator, keeping the drinks coming, and by
the time it was completely dark my whole body was warm and lax from the wine.
We stood with the others on the railing that edged the cliff at the end of our
garden, looking out over the ocean and down towards the town of Shell Beach.
Ben and Larry's dragon, apparently sensing the anticipation, flew loops in the
air over our heads with little exciting squawks, occasionally landing to try
and nibble Larry's hair before getting shooed off.
            John's arm was warm and secure around my waist, and he turned to
place a kiss to my hair. "Today was amazing, love. I've had so much fun."
            I nodded, smiling at his kiss. "We should do it more often."
            "We could make up more holidays," John pointed out, and laughed.
"Ah - time for the fireworks."
            The speakers hidden throughout the garden turned on with an audible
hum - the same music would be broadcast down on the waterfront, where I could
just see the crowds of people out along the beach with small campfires, all
celebrating as we were. It would be played throughout the city to anyone who
tuned in, because the fireworks that had began to shoot up into the air in time
with the music would be visible from the top of most buildings over ten floors.
The view was best from where we were, though, the glittering explosions of
every colour of the rainbow reflecting on the almost completely calm surface of
the sea. One more gift to the city from my beautiful, talented lover.
            "I love you," he murmured in my ear, just as a plethora of red
exploded above us, sparkling in the outline of a heart.
            I smiled, cuddling back into him and thinking that this night,
these friends, and this love were more perfect than I could have ever wished
for. It made my heart ache with happiness. I turned to press a warm kiss to his
mouth, his features highlighted in the flickering light from the pyrotechnics.
I had the sweetest, most beautiful man in the world at my side for always.
            "I love you too," I replied, and closed my eyes for a moment to
revel in the feeling of home.


 
******

End Notes
     Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed my smut!
     Like a street busker, the continuance of my writing is greatly
     influenced by your kind appreciation. So if you loved this, hated
     this, were inspired by this or popped a boner, please let me know! <3
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