Doppelganger

Chapter 7

Waffles covered in maple syrup and melting butter were actually really, really good. Or at least the ones that 494 didn't burn were good. No...Alec, not 494. Trying to use names instead of designations when it came to Manticore soldiers wasn't exactly easy for 270...Quip. Her name was Quip now.

After 49—Alec had gone to bed, Quip had stayed up, trying to decide whether or not to make a break for it and go to ground. She didn't like not being in control of the situation, and she really didn't like that Max was trying to ship her off to Canada or something. Seattle was her home base, and Seattle was where she belonged now that there was no more Manticore. Eventually she drifted to sleep, her exhausted body making the choice for her.

She had woken up to the smell of something delicious cooking and the sound of Alec humming and mumbling words from some song she'd never heard before. Before she had time to think about sneaking out before he noticed her, he came out of the kitchen with a huge plate of yellow-gold, bread-looking things and a jug of chocolate milk.

Alec set two mismatched plates and a pair of cups down on the table. Glancing at her before sitting down, he pulled five of the golden pieces of bread (she guessed these were the waffles he had mentioned last night) onto the plate in front of him and poured thick, golden-brown syrup over them.

Tentatively, she got off the couch and joined him, pilfering one of the waffles from the stack and moving it to a smaller plate that he had put across from his place at the table. Without asking for permission, she doused her waffle with syrup; it was already covered in butter.

Alec scarfed down most of the waffles while Quip picked at hers. They were pretty delicious, but she wasn't used to eating lots of sweet things; she mostly looked for nutritional food when she was out on the streets. But she decided that chocolate milk was pretty much the best thing ever.

"So," Alec said, breaking the silence as he leaned back in his chair, "About this hospital thing."

Quip wondered how hard it would be to sink into the floor and disappear. Hospital. The regular person word for med-bay or infirmary. Or lab. Her side was still aching, but it wasn't as bad as yesterday, or she didn't think so. Not bad enough for her to have to go to a hospital, if anything. "I don't need to go."

"Hey, maybe the guy will give you a lollipop or something," Alec said, smirking at her. Quip frowned.

"I feel good, my side doesn't hurt that bad," she said, shaking her head. She didn't care about candy. This guy was a doctor. So he was bad. 'Bad' and 'doctor' were the same thing back at Manticore; why would it be any different out here?

"Yeah, sure it doesn't," Alec said. He speared one of his remaining waffles and lifted it. Syrup dripped from the waffle onto the plate below and pooled in a golden-brown circle. "Because being shot is like spending a day at the spa. Feels good, right?"

"Haha," Quip said stubbornly, glaring down at the gooey remains of her waffle. "You wouldn't go either," she muttered.

"Maybe I would," Alec replied, "You're the one who keeps insisting you're not really a clone. Maybe we don't do everything alike."

"We don't, but this we do," she said. She stared at him as he stared at her, green-gold versus green-gold. Eventually she broke and stabbed at her waffles. Darn him. "I don't want to go."

Alec snickered. "You're right. I wouldn't want to go either. But I would've gone at your age."

"That's because you were at Manticore." She smirked at him, mimicking the way the corner of his mouth rose. "You couldn't say no."

"So you're going to say no just because you can?" Alec asked, one eyebrow rising. "Hurting yourself is an interesting way of showing your independence."