Eggs, Brains, and Hearts

by Lokemele

Darien Fawkes and Bobby Hobbes were called back into the Official's office just after lunch for their mission briefing. They took seats, the lights were dimmed, and the slide projector was started.

"This, gentlemen," the Official said, "is a recently escaped international terrorist known as the Eggman." The slide showed the picture of a small Oriental man with straight, longish, thinning gray hair and square glasses.

"I've heard the name," Hobbes remarked. "Isn't this the guy who injected nerve gas into eggs and left them on subway cars in Japan and France? Then when the eggs broke the gas was released, killing everyone in the vicinity? Didn't he demand something like $50 million or he'd do the same thing in New York?"

"That's the man," the Official affirmed. "He was overheard in prison shortly before his escape saying he wanted revenge on the man who'd put him there -- a Federal Agent named Michael Newman." The slide changed to reveal a handsome young man in his mid-twenties with dark hair and blue eyes.

"So why involve us?" asked Fawkes. "Why not just warn Newman and his people and wait for this guy to show?"

"Newman's gone rogue," the Official told them. "He's become delusional; he believes he's a middle-aged man named Michael Weisman. He's even kidnapped Weisman's widow and teen-age daughter, and the three of them are currently on the run. This is the best information we have on their whereabouts." He handed Hobbes a document detailing the information.

"We need you to find Newman, free the Weismans, recapture the Eggman -- with Newman's help if you can get it -- and return Newman and the Weismans here for debriefing," the Official summed up, "and we need it done ASAP, before the Eggman gets to Newman and starts killing again."

He dismissed them, and Eberts gave them tickets and an itinerary for their destination. They stopped by the lab to pick up some counteragent in case it was needed, then left the Agency to pack and catch their flight to Chicago. From there they'd catch a small commuter flight and rent a car to get to the town where Newman and the Weismans were supposed to be staying.

On the plane to Chicago Bobby leaned over and whispered in Darien's ear, "Ever wanted to join the Mile-High Club?"

Darien nearly choked on his drink, which brought the stewardess to inquire if everything was well. "I'm fine, really," the ex-thief managed to say, mollifying her. Satisfied one of her passengers wasn't ill she left.

He leaned over after she'd left and whispered back, "When?"

"No time like the present," came the reply. "You go first, and I'll follow."

Darien unbuckled his seatbelt and rose, headed to the restroom. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and he opened it to Bobby, who quickly slipped in. He went straight for Darien's zipper, swiftly releasing the erect member within and kneeling down to engulf it in a warm, moist mouth.

Darien stuffed a hand into his mouth to stifle his moans as Bobby worked magic with lips, tongue, and suction. It was quickly over, and Darien came with a shudder and a muffled shout. Bobby put him away and zipped him up before standing to claim a kiss.

Then Darien knelt and opened Bobby's trousers, pulling out his erection and swiftly taking it into his mouth. He copied Bobby's actions as best he could, and was soon rewarded with a mouthful of hot semen which he quickly swallowed. He gave his partner's flaccid organ a last kiss before returning it to his trousers and zipping them up.

They exchanged a passionate kiss before Darien returned to his seat, followed by Bobby a few minutes later. They got a few odd looks from nearby passengers but no one said anything, and the rest of the flight was uneventful.

Part 2

Lisa Weisman blinked sleepily and sat up slightly in bed, looking down at the man who claimed to be her husband. She wasn't entirely sure she believed his story about having his brain put into a new body -- it was WAY too science fiction -- but the man sleeping next to her knew far too many intimate details of their marriage NOT to be Michael. Of course, Michael hadn't looked this good even in his twenties -- he'd always been stocky and built more like a wrestler than the slender young man in this bed.

Young -- that was part of what had been bothering her lately. Her husband -- if it was her husband -- looked to be at least ten years her junior, and she could see the skeptical looks the neighbors gave them. She knew they were wondering why a guy who looked like Michael was with a woman her age and not a younger -- and prettier -- woman.

He stirred and opened his eyes, reaching for her half-awake and pulling her into a warm embrace. This wasn't exactly a problem; she was more amused than annoyed at Michael's newly improved libido, and the new equipment which came with it. He'd never exactly been lacking in that department, but the new was definitely an improvement.

"Good morning," he said before giving her a sweet, warm kiss.

"Good morning yourself," she replied after the kiss was finished, "and if you don't get out bed now you'll be late to work."

"Can't have that, I guess," he said, releasing her with obvious reluctance and heading to the bathroom.

She rose herself and walked down the hall to the small apartment's other bedroom. Knocking on the door she called, "Rise and shine -- time to get up." A sleepy mumble answered her, along with the sounds of movement from within. A few moments later the door opened and Heather Weisman stood in the doorway, looking at her mother through sleep-dimmed eyes.

"The bathroom open?" the teen asked sleepily.

"Michael's in it," her mother replied. Heather refused to consider the idea the man who'd taken them from New York was her father, and wouldn't allow her mother to even speak of him as such in her presence.

"Oh." She turned and followed her mother to the apartment's tiny kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of juice while her mother made breakfast. Ten minutes later Michael came out of the bathroom and Heather entered it, not bothering to acknowledge the man's presence.

Michael Weisman/Newman sighed at the closed bathroom door. The one thing he'd always wanted to give his little girl was a sense of security. Now his daughter was no longer little, and they were on the run from a government which would probably kill her if they ever caught up with them. She not only blamed him for tearing up their lives -- justifiably so -- she refused to even think of him as her father.

"Give it time," Lisa told him, pouring coffee. "She'll eventually get used to things."

"Probably about the time we'll have to pick up and move again," Michael said. "This isn't fair to either one of you. I should never have brought you along. It's just that -- I missed you so much, and couldn't stand not having you with me again. Sometimes I wish I'd turned the doc down instead of letting him put me into this new body."

Lisa set a plate of breakfast in front of him. "We'll manage, somehow. At least we're together, even if we have to start from scratch." She smiled down at him, and slowly he returned it. Maybe things would work out after all.

The Eggman looked at his accomplice -- a large, burly man with long, curly dark hair -- and said, "Are you certain this is the right building?"

"My sources say he's here, along with his woman and her daughter," the other man replied. "Look there." He pointed at the building's front entrance.

From the car where they'd been watching the building, the pair saw Michael emerge and walk to an ancient, beaten-up subcompact car which he entered and drove off.

"That is him," the Eggman confirmed. "What of the woman and her daughter? Is the apartment ever empty?"

"They both work at menial jobs," the accomplice replied, "and are gone most of the day."

"Excellent," the Eggman said. "We'll have plenty of time to leave them a surprise."

Part 3

Hobbes and Fawkes decided to separate and each take one of the Weisman women once they learned they were working at two separate locations. Fawkes would pick up the daughter while Hobbes went after her mother, and they would rendezvous at their hotel afterwards.

It started off well -- Fawkes simply went into the diner where Heather Weisman was reported to be working and asked for her. When the waitress pointed out the dark haired young woman, he went over to her and flashed his badge while introducing himself and telling her she was going to be OK now. He'd barely started before she bolted, but he managed to catch her before she'd gotten very far away.

"I didn't do anything!" Heather protested as Fawkes walked her to his car.

"I never said you did," he replied. "You're only being taken into custody for debriefing. Afterward, you'll probably be free to go back to New York."

"What about my mom? And what about HIM?"

"Your mom's being picked up right now by my partner. Watch your head," he said as he put her into the front passenger seat. He closed the door, went around to the driver's side, and got in. "Getting you and your mom safely away from the guy who kidnapped you was our first priority."

"She thinks he's my dad, you know," Heather said suddenly.

"Don't worry about it," Fawkes assured her, "we'll get it all straightened out once we get you and your mom debriefed." 'I hope,' he added to himself.

Hobbes had a far more difficult time with Lisa Weisman; she hadn't wanted to go anywhere with him, even after he'd identified himself and told her she wasn't being charged with anything. He ended up having to handcuff and manhandle her into his car. "This is going to make a really great impression on your daughter," he said.

"You leave my daughter alone!" she yelled at him, trying once more to break away.

"It's a little late for that," Hobbes replied. "My partner is picking her up right now. The sooner you stop fighting me, the faster you'll be reunited with her, and then the two you will be debriefed and released."

"What about Michael?" she asked.

"We'll get to Mr. Newman as soon as we know you and your daughter are safe," he told her as they pulled away, heading to the hotel and the rendezvous.

He was pleased to see Fawkes' rental car as he pulled into the hotel parking lot. "If I take off those cuffs, will you promise to be nice and not try to escape?" he asked Mrs. Weisman.

She promised and he removed them, then they went to his and Fawkes' room where they found Fawkes and Heather waiting. The two women embraced, happy to see each other safe. The two agents gave them a moment to be together, then Hobbes cleared his throat loudly.

"Ladies, if I may have your attention a moment," he said, "we need to ask you a few questions. Have either of you seen either of these men in the area recently?" He showed them pictures of the Eggman and an inmate who'd escaped at the same time, possibly with him.

Mrs. Weisman said she hadn't seen either man, but Heather said she'd seen both of them sitting in a car outside their apartment building just that morning.

"You all three work; that means the apartment's empty most of the day," Fawkes said. "It'd be fairly easy for someone to break in."

Hobbes could see where his partner was going. "Do you have eggs in your refrigerator?"

Mrs. Weisman nodded, and told them how many.

"According to our info, Newman's just getting off from work now," Hobbes said, checking his watch. "We'd better get over there now, and hope he doesn't get a sudden yen for an omelet."

Part 4

The pair left the women in the custody of other agents while they took a car to the apartment building where Newman and the Weismans were living. Hobbes pointed out Newman's car to Fawkes when they arrived.

"So how you wanna do this?" the ex-thief asked his more experienced partner.

"The fire escape's attached to the hall windows, so we both go in the front," Hobbes replied, checking the dart gun a final time. Dr. Morris had provided it and the tranquilizer darts it used, saying he wanted Newman alive and undamaged.

They approached the apartment with caution, having been warned by Morris Newman was dangerous when cornered. There were additional agents waiting in the lobby and outside the building, as well as a hazmat unit standing by. Hobbes and Fawkes were wearing gas masks as they rode the elevator to the 5th floor.

The elevator doors opened, and they were greeted by two perfectly healthy-looking teens who gave them odd looks as they stepped out and the teens entered the elevator. Fawkes reached up to remove his mask but was stopped by Hobbes.

"We not out of danger yet," he advised.

Hobbes took a deep breath, pushed his mask up while knocking on the door with his other hand, and announced, "Federal Agents! Newman, we need to talk to you!" and quickly slid the mask back down before taking another breath.

They heard movement inside, then all hell broke loose. Newman broke down the door from the inside and used it to knock down the two agents before making a move toward the fire escape. Hobbes got to his knees and fired two shots, both hitting their target. Newman went down hard and stayed there.

"We got him!" the senior agent yelled into the mike. "He's down!" He quickly stood and handcuffed the unconscious man.

"How many shots?" the voice over the circuit was unexpected -- Morris'.

"Two," Hobbes replied. "We moving in to secure the apartment now."

They entered the apartment, checking for anything out of place or anyone hiding in closets or other rooms. They found nothing and no one until they reached the kitchen. Checking the refrigerator, Hobbes found the egg carton and counted. "We need the hazmat unit up here," he said into his mike. "We've got an extra couple of eggs, and I'd rather not take a chance. Do you want us to evacuate the entire building or just this floor?"

"Evacuate just the floor -- we don't want to cause too much of a panic," came the reply.

Hobbes and Fawkes quickly cleared the apartments on the 5th floor while the hazmat unit entered the apartment and removed the egg carton for testing. While they were waiting for the hazmat unit to clear the building, they overheard one of the other teams checking out a suspicious vehicle in the vicinity. There was a lengthy silence on the line, then a report the vehicle contained the Eggman and his accomplice, along with at least one egg which might contain nerve gas. The team was warned NOT to pursue, but to pass the license number of the vehicle along to local police with a "Do Not Approach" warning.

"At least we got Newman," Fawkes told his partner, "and the Weisman's are safe."

"Yeah, but we won't be off the hook until the Eggman is back behind bars," Hobbes replied.

"Hey you two," one of the other agents said, "you want to take charge of your prisoner? I think he's starting to wake up."

Hobbes and Fawkes took their prisoner and put him in the back seat of the car to take him to a special holding facility. Hobbes rode in the back with the man while Fawkes drove.

"Where are you taking me?" Newman asked groggily. "Where are Lisa and Heather?"

"We're taking you to a holding facility," replied Hobbes, "and you don't need to know where the Weismans are -- only that they're safe."

"They're not safe," Newman said. "He told me he'd have them killed if they found out about me."

"Who? The Eggman?" Fawkes asked.

"No," said Newman, "Dr. Morris."

Part 5

"You're worse off than I am," Hobbes said. "Why would Morris want two perfectly innocent people dead?"

"Because they know about me," Newman replied.

"Just what is it they know about you that's so dangerous?" Fawkes asked.

"If I told you, he'd probably want you dead, too," Newman said.

"Look, Newman, I know you've got problems," Hobbes temporized, "but -- "

"You don't understand!" Newman said vehemently. "I'm not crazy -- he really did promise to kill them just to keep them from telling anyone about me!"

"It'll be OK," Hobbes tried to reassure the man sharing the back seat with him. "Your condition will be explained to them, and you'll get all the help the government can afford."

"What condition?" Newman asked, his brow furrowing. "Oh, I get it now -- the doc told you some story to explain why Lisa and Heather are with me. Let's see now; if I were the doc, what kind of story would would I use? He probably told you something like -- I'm delusional, and I think I'm some guy named Michael Weisman, right?"

"Now you're gonna tell us you don't think you're Weisman, right?" quipped Fawkes from the front seat.

"Not exactly," Newman replied, "it's just really complicated, and like I said, the doc said he'd kill anybody who found out."

"Yeah, well, your doc works for our boss and our boss isn't about to let us get killed over some so-called 'secret', so just tell us what's so special about you," Fawkes told him.

"Need to know, Fawkes," Hobbes warned.

"I am SO tired of all this 'need to know' crap!" Fawkes groused. "Don't you ever get tired of going out on a case without knowing all the facts?"

"If we needed to know all the facts we'd know all the facts but we don't need to know all the facts so we don't know all the facts," Hobbes said. "I thought I explained this to you already."

"Sounds just like the doc," Newman said.

"I HATE not knowing stuff," Fawkes continued, "because it's the stuff you don't know that usually kicks you in the ass, especially in the work I've been doing lately."

"I know just what you mean," Newman agreed, "The doc was always sending me out with just what he thought I needed to know, and not a single fact more."

"Would the two of you like some cheese with your whine?" Hobbes asked sarcastically. "I can understand why Fawkes would feel that way, but you're a trained operative, Newman. You knew going in what kind of business this was."

"Oh?" asked Newman. "And just who told you I was a trained operative?"

"Now wait a minute," Hobbes said, "don't go trying to confuse me here. You have to have had some training or you wouldn't be an agent."

"How much training did I get?" Fawkes commented.

"You don't count -- you're a special case," Hobbes said, "an exception to the rules. Besides, you're being taught, on the job, by the best."

"I'm an exception to the rules myself," Newman said.

"Speaking of exceptions," Fawkes said, "you've taken an exceptionally long time to answer my question. What's the big secret about you? And don't tell us we're gonna be killed if we find out -- we already explained about your doc working for our boss."

"If you absolutely insist on knowing," Newman said, "and you're aware the knowledge might get you killed, I'll tell you. My body's made up of synthetic organs, enhanced in various ways to make me stronger, faster and better able to survive. I'm supposed to be the prototype of the perfect soldier."

"The only organ they can't synthesize is the brain," Newman continued, "so they had to go looking for one. That's where Weisman comes in -- he was hit by a subway train and pretty much a goner when he got to the hospital. But his brain was OK, so it was harvested, and he made a deal with Morris -- he'd live, but he could never have any contact with his family again. I thought I could do it, but I just missed them so much I couldn't stay away, and when I got the chance to run -- I took it."

Hobbes interrupted the tale with, "Fawkes, step on it."

"What? Why?" Fawkes asked.

"Do it NOW, Fawkes!" Hobbes yelled, "You remember the description and license number of the car the Eggman and his accomplice were driving? It's behind us, and coming up fast."

Part 6

Fawkes looked in the rearview mirror, saw the approaching vehicle, said "Oh, crap!" and put the gas pedal to the floorboard. Their car shot forward, pulling away, at least temporarily, from their pursuers. The car behind them also speeded up, and they weaved around slower traffic.

Hobbes pulled out his cell phone and managed, somehow, to dial a number while Fawkes was performing evasive maneuvers. "We've got a problem!" he shouted into the phone. "The Eggman's right behind us and trying to pull even! Do I need to draw you a picture here?" He paused to listen to the person on the other end. "OK, we'll try that."

He lowered the phone and told Fawkes, "We're bait again; we have to stay ahead of them long enough to get them away from populated areas. Take the next left and look for a freeway entrance." He put the phone back in the vicinity of his ear.

Fawkes took the turn very nearly on two wheels and started looking for the freeway entrance. It took some tricky maneuvering but he made it to the on-ramp with the Eggman right behind him. Traffic was fairly light, so it was pretty much a race to stay ahead long enough to get away from populated areas.

"They're blocking the on-ramps in both directions and setting up some sort of roadblock ahead," Hobbes reported. "All we gotta do is lead them into the trap."

"Not a problem," Newman replied. "They're still right behind us."

A shot shattered the backglass, producing an "Oh, crap!" from all three men. Hobbes pulled a gun from an ankle holster and returned fire.

"I didn't know you had that," remarked Fawkes.

"You didn't really think I was gonna walk around with just a dart gun, did you?" Hobbes asked. "With all the enemies we got, and all the crazy people running around loose?"

"Just be careful where you're firing," Fawkes said, "you don't want to hit anybody. I think that's our roadblock up ahead."

"Don't sweat it," Hobbes replied, "I'm aiming at the outside mirrors."

They passed through the roadblock with the other car mere feet behind them. A device on the road shorted out the pursuing vehicle's electrical system, shutting of the engine, and the car rolled to a stop. After calling on the occupants to leave the vehicle and getting no response, officers wearing hazmat gear carefully approached the car. One look inside the car told them all they needed to know -- the two bodies were bleeding from noses and ears, indicating exposure to nerve gas. The hazmat team quickly took over to clean up the area.

A figure separated itself from the cluster of suited bodies and approached the car containing the three men, which Fawkes had parked after the wild chase. It removed the suit's helmet, revealing Dr. Theo Morris. He tapped on Hobbes' window, indicating he should roll it down.

When the window was down, Morris said, "Good work, gentlemen. You not only captured Mr. Newman and rescued the Weismans, but you've permanently taken care of the Eggman. Whether by accident or design, one of his own eggs apparently broke inside his car, killing both himself and his accomplice."

"Speaking of the Weismans," said Fawkes, "we really should be getting back to the hotel to check on them."

Morris' face turned cold. "They're no longer there, or any of your concern. Just make sure Mr. Newman gets to the holding facility, and after that you can have the evening to yourselves."

"Doc," said Newman with pleading eyes, "don't hurt them, please."

"That's out of my hands," replied Morris before he turned and left.

They commandeered a car from one of the other agents at the roadblock and set out once more. They hadn't gone more than a mile before Fawkes spoke. "I got a funny feeling about this."

"So do I," said Hobbes, "so I asked around and found out where the Weismans are being held." He had an odd, thoughtful look on his face.

"Then you'll help me save them?" Newman asked.

"Not so fast," Hobbes replied. "We'll check out your story and see if there's any cause for concern." He gave his partner a significant look.

Part 7

They watched the guards patrolling around the house the Weismans were being held in from behind some shrubbery and through binoculars.

"Looks like a typical safe house," Hobbes noted. "Fawkes, you wanna go check it out?"

"On my way," Fawkes said. He walked around a tree, sent a thought to the gland, and disappeared.

"I don't see him," Newman said. "Where is he?"

"He's there," Hobbes assured him, "he's just really hard to see. He's an expert at this sort of thing -- when he wants to be, he's practically invisible."

Fawkes made his way into the house and eavesdropped on the guards to find out what their orders were. He was intrigued to find they had been told to standby for orders from Morris, who had just arrived. He asked to speak to Heather Weisman first, and was led to her room. He slipped into the room while the door was open and listened to the conversation.

"Miss Weisman, exactly who did the man with your mother say he was?" Morris asked.

"He never said, but mom acts like she thinks he's my dad," Heather replied. "Just who are you, anyway, and why are you asking me all these questions?"

"My name wouldn't mean anything to you," Morris told her. "What I need to know is what you believe about the man we were speaking of earlier."

"You mean Michael? I thought he was a hunk, but really weird, you know?"

"You don't he's your father?"

"Him? Not even close! My dad's been dead for over a year."

"I see. Thank you for your cooperation." Morris left the room, Fawkes slipping out ahead of him.

Morris told the guards, "She's clean; we won't need to take any measures against her."

Then he went to see her mother.

"It was you, wasn't it?" Lisa Weisman said. "You claimed my husband's body from the hospital, didn't you?"

Fawkes was instantly alert -- here was possible corroboration of Newman's story.

"What makes you say that?" Something in Morris' voice struck Fawkes as wrong.

"You match the description of the man the nurse said was there that night. You're name's Dr. Theo Morris, isn't it?"

'She knows his name.' Fawkes thought. 'Of course, Newman could have told her.'

"My name isn't important. What is important is who you believe the man you've been travelling with to be."

'Now why wouldn't the good doctor want her to know his name?' Fawkes thought.

"Why should I answer your questions?"

"Why shouldn't you? Your daughter didn't mind cooperating with me."

"Heather doesn't understand."

"What doesn't your daughter understand?"

"That authority figures aren't always what they seem, and you shouldn't necessarily tell them everything you know."

"Why don't you trust me?"

"You won't tell me who you are or who you're working for."

"You don't need to know those things. Why don't you tell me who you believe the man you've been travelling with is?"

She sighed. "You not going to give up until I answer your questions, are you? All right, I'll tell you. He appears -- somehow -- to be my husband Michael. He knows too many things -- intimate details of me, Heather, himself and our marriage -- to NOT be Michael. There's absolutely NO WAY he could know what he knows otherwise."

'I wonder what sort of intimate details she's talking about, and why she's so certain he couldn't have found out any other way?' Fawkes wondered.

"Did he give you any sort of explanation as to the change in his appearance?"

"He claimed his brain was transplanted into a new, younger body. I know how that sounds, but it's what he told me."

"And you believe his story?"

"Yes. Yes I do."

Morris left the room and turned to the guards. "We've got a problem. Don't let her out of that room, and don't let anyone in. She'll have to be dealt with without rousing her daughter's suspicions."

'Oh, crap,' Fawkes thought as he left the house.

Part 8

"Well?" asked Hobbes as Fawkes rejoined the group. "What did you learn?"

"That the doc's almost as talkative as our boss," Fawkes replied, "and that he's got plans for Mrs. Weisman because she believes Newman's story. The only holdup is not raising her daughter's suspicions."

"We've got to get them out of there," Newman said, raising up to storm the house.

"Hold up there, hero," Hobbes told him, pulling him back down. "You haven't thought this through, have you? What are you gonna do once you get them out? Go back on the lam?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" Newman replied. "Let 'em get killed cause I couldn't stay away?"

"I've been thinkin' about that," Hobbes said, "and I think I have a solution to your problem -- but first things first. We need a plan to get the ladies out of durance vile."

They put their heads together and quickly came up with something that just might work. They put the plan into motion by having Fawkes quicksilver Newman (risky, as he was getting close to madness) and then keeping him between them as they made their way to the front door and knocked. Fawkes and Hobbes identified themselves and were allowed in the house, with the invisible Newman still between them.

They split up, Fawkes going for Heather and Hobbes and Newman going for Lisa. The ladies were quickly freed and away with no one the wiser.

"Now all we need," Hobbes said, "is a good hideout."

"I think I know somebody," Fawkes supplied, "if he isn't on my list of known associates -- and he shouldn't be. Just let me drive, and don't ask where we're going."

He drove, and they were glad not to ask where they were going as the neighborhoods got less and less reputable. Finally he pulled up in front of a warehouse in what had to be the seediest area in the county.

"Stay here," Fawkes told them, "and keep the doors locked."

"No problem with that," Newman assured him.

He disappeared inside, and a few minutes later a vehicle-sized door opened in the side of the warehouse. Fawkes waived them inside, and Hobbes took the wheel and drove them in. The door immediately shut behind them.

"I admit it's not much," Fawkes said as he showed them empty offices where they could watch the streets, "but as hideouts go, it's better than some I've used."

"What about your friend?" Hobbes asked.

"He doesn't want to meet you," came the reply. "He's kinda shy that way."

"OK, so we stay here and you pitch your deal to Morris," Newman said. "Just what are you gonna try to sell him in exchange for my family's safety?"

Hobbes pulled him to one side and they had a short whispered conference.

"That might work," Newman said.

"I figure it's pretty much your best -- and only -- shot," Hobbes replied, "unless you can come up with something better."

Part 9

"Where are the Weismans?" Morris asked the two agents. "I already know you were involved in removing them from the safe house."

"Just how many Weismans are we talking about?" Fawkes challenged. "Two -- or three?"

"I don't know what Newman told you --" the doctor began, only to be interrupted.

"Cut the crap, doc -- you know exactly what Newman told us," Fawkes said, "as if the name 'Newman' -- or should I say 'New Man' -- wasn't an obvious description."

"We know you put Weisman's brain into your prototype's body because it was the only part you couldn't synthesize," Hobbes added. "What you couldn't predict was Weisman/Newman wouldn't buy your absolute loyalty clause and started wanting to return to his family. What you need is a brain that's already loyal to the government and has no family to worry about."

"And I suppose you know where I can find one?" Morris said sarcastically.

"I might," Hobbes replied, "if certain conditions were agreed to first."

Fawkes broke in at that point. "Do you mind if I have a word with my partner?" They walked away and lowered their voices.

"What the hell are you up to?" Fawkes demanded in a whisper.

"I'm getting Weisman out of his predicament and back with his family, if I can swing it," Hobbes told him.

"How?"

"By offering to swap bodies with Weisman."

"ARE YOU NUTS?" Fawkes shouted, then lowered his voice once more. "I've grown kinda used to that one, and besides, I'm not sure we can trust Morris to keep his end of the deal, if he even agrees to it."

"Do you have a better idea?"

Hobbes had there, and they both knew it.

Returning to Morris, Hobbes pitched his idea. "Here's the deal -- we know you can take a brain out of one head and put it in another. All you need to do is put Weisman's brain in my head and my brain into your prototype. That way your prototype gets a brain that isn't going to run out on you, and Weisman gets to return his family. 'Bobby Hobbes' will leave the Agency and meet with the widowed Mrs. Weisman, and the two will fall instantly in love and marry. Happy endings all around."

"There's still the matter of the Weismans -- or the 'Hobbeses' -- knowing about the project," Morris pointed out.

"Who are they going to tell?" Fawkes said. "I mean really -- who's gonna believe a story like that? It sounds like something out of 'The National Enquirer' -- My Brain Was Transplanted By a Secret Government Agency!" He chuckled, and Hobbes joined in.

"There's also the matter of cost," Morris pointed out. "Brain transplants aren't exactly cheap, and you want me to do two of them? Who's going to pay for it?"

"The money's there," said Hobbes, "so don't get all miserly on us."

"I could simply wait you out, you know," the doctor added. "The two of you -- and specifically Agent Fawkes -- have a time limit, due to the effects of the gland. How close are you to needing a shot, Fawkes?"

"We still have the supply you gave us," Hobbes said.

"Which will last a week at most," Morris replied. "After that, you'll need more to keep your partner -- your lover -- sane. Where will you find it?"

"We'll manage somehow," Fawkes said, knowing it was all bluff and bravado. "Don't let him get to you, Hobbes -- we can stick this out."

"Can you actually watch your lover go through that, Hobbes?" Morris said. "Knowing the longer you wait the greater the chances are he'll be permanently insane? Is it worth it?"

"Is it worth the lives of three people?" Hobbes said as they turned to go. "You bet your ass it is."

They got in their car and Fawkes said, "What now?"

"First we dump this car and get another one," Hobbes said, "Then we start improvising a padded room at the warehouse."

Part 10

They dumped the car by the simple expedient of returning it to the rental agency they'd rented it from and taking a cab to another agency. This time they rented a van; Hobbes said he preferred driving one and they'd need something to haul whatever they found for a padded room.

They lucked out on that matter; as they were driving past a gymnasium, they noticed a man dragging out exercise mats and leaving them on the curb. It turned out the gym's owner had replaced the mats that day and was throwing out the old ones. He agreed to let the pair have the mats for hauling them away, and they were quickly loaded into the van.

Now all they needed to do was lose the tail they'd acquired, and they could return to the warehouse. Hobbes did some fancy maneuvers and they lost their pursuers. They turned for the warehouse district.

They found a small storeroom in the rear of the warehouse with a stout lock, and fitted it out with the mats -- walls and floor, as they didn't have enough for the ceiling and no way to attach them. Newman found them there and asked what they were doing.

"We're gonna need it for Fawkes," Hobbes explained. "Remember when we told you he was an exception to the rules? Part of the exception is he goes a little crazy if he doesn't get some special medication only the Agency has access to. Because we took your side they're withholding his meds until we cave in and bring them you."

"You couldn't stockpile the stuff?" Newman asked.

"We don't have access to it," Fawkes replied, "except one dose we were given for this mission, and I just took that. In a week's time I'll be howling at the moon and bouncing off the walls. That's what this place is for."

Seeing the distressed look on Newman's face, Hobbes said, "Don't worry about it; we're not about to let Morris have you or your family." He leaned closer and added, "Do you think my partner and I could be alone for a while? We need to discuss some things in private."

Newman nodded and left.

"What do we need to discuss?" Fawkes asked as Hobbes locked the door.

"Just this," Bobby said as he pulled Darien's head down for a passionate kiss. His hands slid down and forward to undo the buttons on his shirt, revealing a smooth chest and flat stomach.

Bobby's hands found Darien's nipples as Darien's hands worked to remove Bobby's shirt. They swallowed each others moans as skin met skin, and were soon naked and down on the mats on the floor, kissing, fondling, licking, and arousing each other.

"Oh God Bobby," Darien breathed, "fuck me. Just fuck me senseless."

"You're such a romantic," Bobby teased before covering his partner's lips with his own. After they broke for air he snagged his jacket and pulled out condom and lube.

He took his time preparing Darien, teasing his prostate until his lover was whimpering and incoherent. "How do you want it?" he asked. Face to face? Sideways? Or the standard doggie style?"

"I don't care!" Darien howled. "Just DO IT!"

Bobby put Darien's legs over his shoulders, donned the condom, slicked it with lube, and slowly entered him. He continued to tease with slow and gentle movements, alternating them with fast, hard fucking. He wanted to see how long he could make it last, so each time he sensed his lover approaching release, he slowed until the feeling passed.

"Bobby -- baby -- please -- no more -- please -- let me -- let me -- I need -- need to -- come," Darien begged.

"Oh damn Dare," Bobby replied, "you make me crazy when you beg like that." He began to thrust harder and faster, pounding into his lover's tight, hot channel for all he was worth. He reached down and started stroking the other man's erection in time with his thrusts.

Darien spasmed as his release splattered both men, and Bobby soon followed. He looked down at his lover and smiled. He had indeed managed to fuck Darien senseless. He slipped out and removed the condom, tying it shut, lowered the long legs from his shoulders and lay down beside him. "I love you, Dare," he whispered as he waited for the other man to awake so they could their loving.

Part 11

Bobby rolled over and yelled at the door, "Whaddaya want?"

"Just making sure you guys are all right," came the muffled voice of Weisman/Newman. "You've been in there a long time."

"We had a lot to discuss," Bobby called back, shaking Darien and grabbing his clothes. He felt a sudden twinge of pain at the movement, but it was a good pain; a reminder of their loving. His partner and lover wrapped an arm around him and nuzzled his neck. "Umm, I wish -- but we gotta go back to being agents now, Dare." He pushed the other man away with a regretful sigh, and turned his cell phone back on.

It immediately rang, and he answered it. "Hobbes."

"Why was your cell phone turned off?" the Official's voice snarled. "I gave you that phone so we could keep in touch."

"I was conserving the batteries, sir," Hobbes replied.

A sound suspiciously like a "Hmph!" came over the phone, followed by, "I want to know what's going on out there. Morris is claiming you two are no longer cooperating, and I'd like to know why."

"He's threatening to kill two or three people to keep his secrets," Hobbes told him. "Were you aware, sir, Newman was a synthetically- made prototype with Michael Weisman's brain in his head?"

"What I am or am not aware of isn't your concern," the Official said, "and what do you mean he's threatening to kill people?"

"The Weismans, sir," Hobbes replied. "Fawkes overheard him threatening to kill Mrs. Weisman, and it's a safe bet he wants to get rid of the brain controlling his prototype as well. He may want to neutralize the daughter now, too."

"He never said anything to me about killing anyone," the Agency head remarked.

"Did he mention the idea I pitched to him about straightening out this problem, sir?" Hobbes asked, then went on to tell him about the swap.

"I'll have to go over it with Morris and get back to you," he said. "Leave your cell phone on -- I'll probably be calling you back shortly." He ended the call without saying "Goodbye".

Hobbes punched a button on the phone and set it down to dress. He noticed Fawkes was already fully dressed and waiting to go. He quickly slipped into his things and the two of them left the room looking for the Weismans to update them on the situation.

They found them in one of the front offices, eating lunch made from some things the two men had bought while they were out.

"Mind if we join you?" Fawkes asked. They sat down and while eating told them of the phone call from the Official.

"So now we wait for your boss to call back," Weisman/Newman said.

"That's about all we can do right now," Hobbes replied.

His cell phone rang, and Dr. Morris answered it.

"I just spoke to Hobbes," said the Official.

"You're aware of the problem then."

"You didn't mention the possibility of killing civilians."

"I had hoped it wouldn't be necessary."

"What about Hobbes' plan? How feasible is it?"

"It's doable, certainly, but it's going to cost. I'll have to transfer nanocytes into Hobbes old body to effect the neural connections. Otherwise Weisman will end up a quadriplegic."

"You're lucky -- I managed to pull some additional funding to cover the expense. When and where do you want to do it?"

"Back at my lab -- I'll need the best possible facilities. Can you call in Claire to help me?"

"She'll be there when you arrive."

"Now all we need is the Weismans and your two agents."

I'll call them as soon as I finish with you."

"Then I hope to see you soon, sir."

Part 12

The cell phone rang and Hobbes picked it up and answered it. The other four people in the room waited to hear what the verdict was with baited breath. Would they be free eventually to return to a normal life, or would they be once again on the run?

"Hobbes."

"This is your boss," the Official said. "I've spoken to Morris, and he's agreed to do the surgery -- both operations. All we need now is you."

Hobbes smiled and gave them a thumbs up, and the others breathed a sigh of relief. The nightmare that was their lives might soon be ending.

"Do you want us to return to the safe house, sir?" Hobbes asked.

"No, go straight to the airport. Morris and your tickets and bags will be waiting."

"On our way, sir," Hobbes said, and the call ended.

They packed up what belongings they had and left for O'Hare.

They met Morris at the ticket counter and received their tickets and luggage. The flight back was uneventful, and Bobby and Darien both thought about another trip to the bathroom but decided it wouldn't be proper.

They were met at the airport and taken directly to Morris' lab. Claire was already there, and she reported to Morris everything was prepared as per his instructions. Hobbes and Weisman/Newman were taken away to be prepped for surgery, but not before tearful good-byes from both their significant others.

Fawkes and the Weismans were warned the surgery would take a significant amount of time -- probably the rest of the day -- but nobody was willing to leave the waiting room. Late in the afternoon the Official joined them, along with Eberts, who was sent out for sandwiches, soda, and coffee. The three who'd been waiting all day ate with little appetite.

Finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Morris came out of the operating room. He was still wearing surgical scrubs and looked very tired.

"Both operations were successful," he told the waiting people. "They're in Recovery now and will probably sleep through the rest of the night. You can look in on them if you wish." Fawkes and Lisa Weisman hurried off to do just that.

"How soon will they be back on their feet?" asked the Official.

"Not more than a month," replied Morris, "If the nanocytes do their job properly. There may be some disorientation at first, as they get used to their new bodies, but it will pass quickly."

The next few weeks passed in a blur for the Weismans and the two men who'd helped them. Although their vision was blurry at first and they had to wear "haloes" the first week until Morris was certain the nanocytes had done their job of healing the spinal cords and optic nerves of both men, they both made excellent progress. Three weeks after the operations, both men were proclaimed fit to be released from the lab.

The Official and Eberts hadn't been idle during the recovery of Hobbes/Newman or Weisman/Hobbes. They'd been creating plausible explanations for the sudden departure of one agent and his replacement with another. Robert Hobbes was being "medically retired" with a small pension -- a percentage of his wages.

He was being replaced by one Robert Michael Newman, who had a short but excellent record of service with another agency. All the paperwork was in place by the time they were discharged. Mrs. Weisman and her daughter had returned to New York to get on with their lives.

The last day the two men were in the same room it was the Official's office to bid an official good-bye to the retiring 'Hobbes'.

"Good luck to you," the Official said, shaking his hand. "In addition to your pension, I've also found you a job with the New York office of the GAO."

"GAO?" Weisman/Hobbes asked. Fawkes still couldn't get used to hearing his former partner's voice without it's usual Brooklyn accent.

"Government Accounting Office," Eberts supplied. "You'll be reviewing the government's insurance contracts and any claims brought against them by individuals or groups."

"Thank you, sir," Weisman/Hobbes said. "I appreciate that. Good luck to you too, sir, and to all of you." He turned and left.

"Well, now that that's finished," the Official said, "I've got a job for you two."

"Back to the grind," Hobbes/Newman said.

"You wouldn't have it any other way," replied Fawkes.

Epilogue

Six Months Later

Hobbes/Newman and Fawkes entered their office after their latest debriefing. The case had been a difficult one, and the pair were looking forward to a well-earned day off. They just wanted to check a few things in their office before going home and making love.

"Here's something interesting," Fawkes said, picking up an oversized envelope. "It's addressed to both of us -- 'Agents Robert Newman and Darien Fawkes, Dept. of Fish and Game, Washington, DC'."

"So open it and see what it is," his partner replied.

The envelope turned to contain a wedding invitation and a wedding photograph. The happy couple were very familiar to the two agents -- Bobby Hobbes/Weisman and Lisa Weisman. They were flanked by Lisa's daughter Heather on the bride's side and a tall, slender man with graying blonde hair -- identified on the back of the picture as Roger Bender -- on the groom's. Everyone looked very happy, and the couple almost seemed to glow.

"Wow," said Fawkes softly, "isn't that great? They sent us a wedding picture."

"Like I said," Newman told his partner, "happy endings all around."

"Yeah," Fawkes agreed, "once we got Morris straightened out."

There had been some debate about their continued relationship after the operations switching Bobby Hobbes' and Michael Weisman's brains into their new bodies. Dr. Morris hadn't wanted his prototype "distracted", and the partners -- or specifically Hobbes/Newman -- had been forced to lay down the law about restrictions in his new life.

"Look, I'll jump through your hoops, I'll live in your special quarters, I'll follow your exercise regime, I'll even let you analyze most of my secretions. I'm already going on missions for you and the fat man -- I'll even stick to your diet, as long as it's kosher -- but I'll be damned if I give up Fawkes. He's the one thing that makes everything else bearable."

Morris had sighed and conceded, and now Newman shared his quarters with his lover, who worked out and even ate with him. They usually cheated and ate junk food for lunch, and still spent half the night making love instead of sleeping.

It had taken some time for Darien to get used to Bobby's new body. Instead of stocky solidness he now had wiry strength. He had to find all this new body's erogenous zones and "sweet spots", not that he regretted the search in the least. The past six months had been a joyous adventure in discovery, and he looked forward to each new chance to make love.

Speaking of which -- "Hey Bobby," he whispered huskily, "let's pack it in and go home."

"I'm right behind you," Newman said, "and I'll get even closer once we get through that door."

The End