Monday - Dopplegangers
Feb. 16th, 2009 01:55 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficHey guys! Sorry for the delay guys - I'm pinch hitting again... And my internet hates me!
So today's theme is dopplegangers. Any fandoms or groupings are okay, as long as at least two of the characters look alike.
Please remember to be kind to your friendly neighborhood code monkeys and format your prompts appropriately!
Examples:
Supernatural, Dean/shapeshifter!Dean, not what I expected
RPS/Leverage, Steve Carlson/Christian Kane/Eliot Spencer, whiskey in mind
If you don't see anything you like, please check out our Lonely Prompts sections and see if something there can catch your attention.
And speaking of Lonely Prompts, thanks again to everyone that participated in our first Lonely Prompt Challenge weekend! We're counting things up now - stay tuned for winners!
So today's theme is dopplegangers. Any fandoms or groupings are okay, as long as at least two of the characters look alike.
Please remember to be kind to your friendly neighborhood code monkeys and format your prompts appropriately!
Examples:
Supernatural, Dean/shapeshifter!Dean, not what I expected
RPS/Leverage, Steve Carlson/Christian Kane/Eliot Spencer, whiskey in mind
If you don't see anything you like, please check out our Lonely Prompts sections and see if something there can catch your attention.
And speaking of Lonely Prompts, thanks again to everyone that participated in our first Lonely Prompt Challenge weekend! We're counting things up now - stay tuned for winners!
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-16 09:11 pm (UTC)“Oh come on Dean, I can read your mind! What, did you think it was gonna be a woman? Jo maybe? Ellen?” He paused raising his eyebrows and fingering the pendant round his neck. “Sammy?”
Dean was on the shapeshifter like a shot, straddling him and punching wildly as the creature flailed beneath him. “Don’t talk about my brother you sick fuck! You don’t get to say his name!” He panted as the adrenaline pumped through him, staring at his own messed up face like he had so many times after a hunt.
The doppelganger laughed, his face morphing back, erasing a split lip and a swollen cheekbone. “You should have known.” He pushed back on Dean’s chest with unnatural strength, sending him flying onto his back. He stood, looming over Dean and flipping him onto his stomach.
Dean’s vision swam as he tried to right himself. The shapeshifter was on top of him, holding him down easily and yanking at his jeans. “No…no!” Dean struggled as the other man leaned into his ear, repeating the words he’d used on so many pickups.
“Shh, I’ll be gentle with you sweetie, just relax.” The shapeshifter licked at his neck lazily as he ripped off his clothes and pressed his hardening cock against the crack of Dean’s ass.
Dean breathed, the effort of trying to move exhausting him. He heard the creature spit and tensed as he felt a thick finger enter him. “Oh….” he moaned, unable to deny the ripple of pleasure that ran through him. It had been so long since he had let anyone do this.
“I know, so long.” The shapeshifter pushed into Dean in one swift movement, pulling his hips up as he did so and fucking him fast as he moaned and spazmed beneath him. “Tell me you want it, tell me bitch.” He growled.
“Oh, I want it, okay, I want it, fuck me!” Dean pushed back onto the shapeshifter’s cock, wishing he could watch himself be taken like this. He heard the familiar sounds of his own climax as he was flooded and came hard, giving a final guttural moan.
“Yeah. Oh man…” the shapeshifter’s hollow recording of Dean’s post-orgasm ramblings made the man wince. He pulled out quickly, enjoying the image of Dean spread eagled on the stone floor. “You must have known Dean. You must have known that only man who could fuck Dean Winchester would be Dean Winchester.”
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-04 11:15 pm (UTC)He just knows that one Christian Kane is a pretty awesome thing...and two? Well maybe he's greedy, but he really can't see a down side to that. Except maybe how he's gonna hurt in the morning.
Okay, so this second guy calls himself Eliot, and that's fine. He looks like Chris, sounds like Chris...god he even laughs like Chris and Steve is so goddamn hard he isn't going to last much longer and neither Chris has even touched him yet.
He reaches for the bottle, but a hand blocks him, followed by a face, a kiss that's more tongue than lips and Steve is falling back against a strong chest and not really fighting.
"Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private," one of them growls. "I got a whole lot more than whiskey in mind for you both."
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-24 08:03 pm (UTC)He sounds like Christian... mostly. Makes the same little whimpering needy noises, has the same growl behind each panted breath but there's more of a rough drawl about him.
He feels like Christian... mostly. The same heady combination of smooth skin and hard muscle playing beneath his callused fingers but the muscles are harder, tension coiled beneath the surface.
He smells like Christian... mostly. There's more of a city scent and not enough coffee but there's still that sunny southern sweat and Steve knows if he leans forward it will tang his tongue.
He tastes like Christian... mostly. Definitely has that tang of sunny southern sweat on his tongue but but it isn't the same, not quite. Steve can't really bring himself to care though.
Because the main difference between Eliot Spencer and Christian Kane - the one that Steve thinks makes Eliot even better is that when Steve kisses him, Eliot doesn't punch him. No, Eliot just grabs the lapels of Steve's shirt and kisses him straight back.
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:31 pm (UTC)You look good for a dead lawyer, Angel/RPS, Spike/Christian Kane
Date: 2009-03-08 08:33 pm (UTC)“You mind…” the man starts, and Chris is about to apologise with a grin when the man stops dead, his mouth open and eyes wide in shock.
“Y’alright?” Chris drawls out. It’s probably a fan, but he’s feeling perhaps a little too mellow tonight, and he’s not actually that fussed at being recognised. Of course, if Steve were here…well, Chris’d take a thousand touchy-feel-y fans over Steve not being here any day.
“You look good for a dead man – ‘specially a dead lawyer.”
Well, there’s no need for that.
“Ain’t a lawyer, darlin’.” It’s kinda sweet, actually, how confused the other man looks, and Chris grins and holds out a hand. “Christian Kane, sweetheart. An’ you?”
The man blinks, and visibly reels in shock.
“You…I thought you were…”
“Someone else?”
“Something like that.”
There’s frank appraisal in those blue eyes now, a gaze that looks more hungry than anything else, and Chris feels a shiver run down his spine.
“Can I getcha a drink -?” Chris leaves the question open, and the man smirks suddenly, tongue flickering out to lick over pale lips.
“Spike, pet – call me Spike.”
Re: You look good for a dead lawyer, Angel/RPS, Spike/Christian Kane
From:Re: You look good for a dead lawyer, Angel/RPS, Spike/Christian Kane
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-18 02:29 pm (UTC)It's not the same Lindsey thinks, but it will have to be good enough, because barring a miracle – or some serious interference by Wolfram and Hart, something he doesn't even want to think about thinking about – he's a one handed guitar player.
And yeah, curled under his next oldest brother's arm as Christian provides the second hand to play the well used instrument is the best place in the world right now bar having Eliot on his other side, but he still feels... hollow. As hollow as the belly of the guitar laying across both their laps.
Christian jerks his head up in surprise at the bum note, taking one look at Lindsey's face and pulling his youngest brother into a tight embrace as Lindsey breaks on his shoulder.
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-08 02:03 am (UTC)If he even thinks about it too much his brain will crack and he'll die, right here, like this.
San Francisco's cold and wet and it's late. It's wrong on so many levels he can't begin to catalog them, but this man is making his body do things he's never done and his voice is making his cock leak and his stomach churn and when he scrapes that stubble down Sam's back, Sam's fingers grasp at the brick wall in a vain effort to keep from falling.
"Damn..." Fingers press into him, wet with spit and beer and nothing more and Sam presses back for more...more...and then he's there, cock digging in where fingers had been, long, thin body pressing Sam's into the wall...and fuckdamnfuckharderplease erupts out of him in a stream of words that fall into noise and then fail altogether.
He'd been needy and alone...and this man...Sam shakes as the rhythm stutters, hips churning and grinding against him...this man was there...and he smelled like whiskey and smoke, he spoke dirty words in Sam's ear, asked Sam what he needed...
"Be my daddy?" Sam had whispered, and fuck if the man didn't do the role justice, hard hands and stern voice, commanding, demanding...and now...now...
Sam yells into the brick as he comes, slamming his hand against the wall and that gruff voice chuckles in his ear. "I'm just getting warmed up boy."
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-16 08:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-17 03:45 am (UTC)"Then I guess I'm not doing my job right."
"No, you're doin' it right. Very right. Just - um, I was thinkin' about what Vala said that time -"
"Do you have to talk about Vala in bed?"
"I'm not. Just - remember that crack she made about the limited gene pool? How we look alike?"
"What about it?"
"Just thought it was weird, is all. I mean, this would be kinda like...incest."
"I prefer to think of it as masturbation."
"You - oh, damn, Jackson, you are twisted."
"Hey, you're the one bringing up incest and you're calling me twisted?"
"You're right. You're right. Sorry - didn't mean to weird you out or anything."
"Yeah...you know, that reminds me of something - I once had an apartment with a mirror on the bedroom ceiling."
"Really? I always kinda wanted one'a those."
"The guy before me installed it and didn't take it down when he left. That was - an interesting six months."
"Oh, I'll bet."
"Yeah. I felt like I'd really gotten to know myself, in a weird way. It's kinda like - you see yourself on a whole new level when you know what you look like when you're losing it."
"Yeah."
"Anyway, my reflection was good company, even if there was no other human touch involved. Being a geeky workaholic isn't really that conducive to forming relationships..."
"And - lemme guess. Now you're fucking me, it's like being able to touch your reflection for real? See what it's like?"
"God, no."
"...Oh."
"I don't know why the hell people keep saying we look alike. We don't look anything alike. You don't look like me, you don't feel anything like me or sound like me or smell like me. You're you."
"And that's a good thing."
"Of course. I'm an explorer. New terrain and all that - fascinating new terrain."
"Mmm. So there's no need to get weirded out over any creepiness. Nothin' freaky goin' on in nineteen-sixty-nine, right?"
"Well..."
"Oh, don't. Don't you even, Daniel Jackson. That's not even funny."
"You're so gullible, Cam. See, we're not related - gullibility is not a part of my genetic makeup."
"Apparently, neither is humility."
"I'll...concede that point."
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-03-09 02:42 am (UTC)And Dean was very protective of his younger, vulnerable clone that could kick their asses with one hand tied behind his back. And seeing that he and Sam were lovers, it wasn't much of stretch to have Alec share their beds as well. Most of the time it was one or the other. Who was too fucked out to handle Alec's libido.
But of course it was Dean's fault for Sam's current situation. He took topping to a whole new level. He was in Alec's arms, the same green eyes making sure that he was okay, the familiar freckles across his nose, the lips that kissed him was like kissing Dean.
Dean was behind him, "Ready, Sammy?" Alec's hands gripped Sam's hhips to keep him steady.
Sam's eyes screwed shut as Dean slid inside him, his brother's cock stretching him even wider. It was too surreal, Dean penetrating him from obove and below. Alec kissing him and Dean's lips on his shoulders.
Sam knew he would wake up and it would be a dream. But instead, his head was on Alec's shoulder, Dean was spooned around him from behind, his brother's hand on Alec's neck, covering the mysterious barcode.
And Sam's ass ached like a bitch.
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:40 pm (UTC)Stargate SG1, Jack/Robot!Jack, Bring it on flyboy
(Bonus points if you can make this into porn! I do love a bit of robot porn. Lol.)
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Date: 2009-05-24 12:04 am (UTC)"Jack," Daniel warned, a hand up ready to clamp down on Jack's shoulder. Jack ignored him.
"You going to do something about it?" Jack barked, jerking forward enough to slam his chest against his doppleganger's. The robot wouldn't be budged and glared right back.
"Bring it on, flyboy," the robot growled. Daniel shouldered his way in between them, hands on his Jack's chest, pressing him back away from the machine.
"Jack, Jack. Stop. It's not worth it, come on." Daniel whirled as the robot took a step closer. "No!" Daniel snapped viciously. "Go find the rest of your team. Right now you are not helping your cause." The robot hesitated, but decided an enraged Daniel was more dangerous than an enraged Colonel, and turned to recover the rest of his team.
Daniel led Jack to the stairs and pressed his team leader into a sitting position with a strong hand on his shoulder. Daniel crouched beside him and hissed, "What has gotten into you? That robot can tear you to pieces and you're trying to get him to throw the first punch!"
Jack pushed his hands through his hair and growled. "I don't know. Seeing those things always gets me riled up, you know that. I hate the idea of them."
"Yes, well, they are sentient and now have lives of their own and you have to get used to that." Daniel dropped his hand to Jack's thigh, squeezing reassuringly. "Let's just help them and get out of here, kay?" Jack snorted.
"Stop patronizing me."
"Well then, let's just do what we came here to do. Then we can leave." Daniel stood. "Daniel!" he exclaimed happily as the robot brought the rest of the robotic team with him. Jack stood and steeled himself for a long few days.
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-22 12:31 pm (UTC)It's just a tad too long for comment_porn and I couldn't edit it. oops.
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-04 03:30 am (UTC)Chris let it go.
Imagine his surpise when he found the boy hunched over a lap top, his eyes not focusing on the screen. It was Jared but not. This one was broody, withdrawn, with Jared's cat tipped eyes.
So like a good ol' boy should, Chris befriended him. Brought him out of his shell, and eventually took him home.
Sam. If Chris thought he had feelings for Jared, it paled when he fell for Sam.
"Come on, boy," He nudged at the slender hip and Sam straddled him, "Ride a cowboy."
Sam leaned forward after he had Chris deep inside him, "Shut up and fuck me."
"Your wish," Chris gripped his hips and pushed upward. Sam groaned, "my command."
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-03 07:37 pm (UTC)He moved his head a bit, looking around. He laid on some, pretty comfortable bed and as much as he hated to move, he slowly sat down to see better. It looked like a hotel room. A good one, but still obviously not home-like.
The door opened and someone walked in. Krycek gasped, shocked.
"Calm down. It's all okay. And not weird at all."
"I was dead," said Krycek quickly and angrily. The other nodded, shrugging lightly. "And you look like me!"
"Okay, that part is a bit weird," he smiled.
"You think?" asked Krycek and sat there waiting for the events to unfurl.
He didn't really trust this whole situation. He could feel his muscles strained and ready to attack or run. And yet, he was not really angry... All in all, he felt pretty good. He smirked, watching the newcomer closely.
He was alive. That made life much better.
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-16 09:38 pm (UTC)It took a lot to render Sylar speechless, but this, yes, this would just about do it. He had assumed the ability of Joy Watson would create an image, like a projection, but here was a living, breathing, trembling doppelganger. He inclined his head quizzically, running his eyes over Gabriel’s body.
“Do you talk?” he asked, reducing the space between them.
“Yes.” Gabriel answered, watching Sylar with interest.
Sylar put a hand to Gabriel’s cheek, stroking it and half expecting his hand to drift right through. “I’d forgotten how pretty you were.” He brushed his cheek against Gabriel’s breathing in the familiar scent of the plain soap he had scrubbed himself with every day. “Take off your glasses.” He ordered.
As Gabriel did so, he closed his eyes. “Don’t hurt me. I know you want to but please don’t.”
“I do want to,” Sylar growled. “Look at you, so weak and pathetic!” He gripped Gabriel by the hair. “Get on your knees where you belong.”
Gabriel sank to his knees and started to hyperventilate as he saw his more aggressive self unzip his pants and take out his cock, pumping it fast. “I don’t know how…” Gabriel began to protest but was silenced when Sylar forced his cock into his mouth, fucking his face with his hand still twisted in his hair.
Sylar knew he wouldn’t last as he watched his former self suck him, trying to cope with the onslaught on his virgin lips. “We’re going to have so much fun together Gabriel, you just have to learn that I’m in charge.” He pulled out and came over Gabriel’s mouth and chin, milking every last drop from himself as the watchmaker gasped and coughed. “You know I always wanted a brother, and now I have something even better.” He turned away, zipping up his fly. “Clean yourself up, “ he barked. “We’re going to pay a visit to Mohinder….”
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From:and what happened next.....
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:47 pm (UTC)Spn Evil!Dean/Dean/Sam Never enough
Date: 2009-05-29 04:15 am (UTC)Sam was burning up, he could feel his whole body shaking though, as if it were freezing. He had no idea how many hours passed since they drove out of Massachusettes, away from that convent. He couldn't think straight anymore-- he knew he needed more blood, felt like he was going to die without it.
And Dean was with him now, yelling at him. "You're worthless, Sam. Without that blood in your veins, you have nothing-- there is nothing special about you, the demons were lying. You're pathetic. Dad knew. He knew, that's why he never tried to stop you when you went to Stanford. That's why I was always his favorite. You were never enough."
Sam struggled to hold onto his sanity, through his brother's taunting. He reached for Dean, begging him to stop saying it, begging for it all to stop.. but it wouldn't, not without Ruby.
"Stop. Please stop."
"I'm here. I'm still here." Dean whispered when Sam reached out for him; he wasn't sure if his brother heard him though, or would have believed him. He'd left Sammy once before, but Dean refused to do it ever again.
"Stop. Please stop."
"It will, Sammy. I promise. Soon."
The next morning, Dean woke with the sunrise, exhausted from the little amount of sleep he'd gotten. He was laying beside Sam, and gingerly reached out to test his little brother's pulse. It was strong now, much stronger than yesterday. Perhaps he would be okay. Dean sure as hell hoped so.
Dean came into the living room a half hour later, carrying all sorts of breakfast foods. He'd made everything in Bobby's kitchen, not sure what his brother might want to eat. Sam was up now, and Dean silently cursed himself for letting his brother wake up alone. He didn't think he would wake up so soon.
He placed the food on the coffee table and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. He thought he felt Sam shudder a little, but maybe it was just another passing tremor. "Are you okay, Sammy? You scared me there."
Sam nodded, but didn't say anything.
"I was there with you the entire time. I-- I was watching over you, I never left."
"I know." Sam said darkly, and Dean thought maybe he was mad at him. But then Sam appeared to shake off the bad mood. He looked up at Dean through his long hair, which was still damp with sweat. Sam seemed to be seeing him for the first time. "I'm glad you're you again."
"I'm not entirely sure what that means, but uh-- yeah, me too." Dean let the strang comment slide, figuring it was a passing effect of whatever Sam had gone through. He met his brother's gaze and smiled, things were getting back on track. "I'm glad you're Sam again."
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-16 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-16 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-16 08:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-16 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-17 12:11 am (UTC)"This is what you hired me for?" Eliot says, his breath warm against the back of his neck.
"Yes. And no," Lindsey huffs. It takes all his effort not to grind back into Eliot. Been too damn long... "I'm hiring you to retrieve the body it came from."
"Ah. Heard you left your job, though. How ya plannin' on payin' me?" His voice is gravel, rumbling across Lindsey's back and against his skin, and he shivers.
"I'm sure we can make an arrangement..."
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:50 pm (UTC)part 1
Date: 2009-05-04 01:31 am (UTC)After Charlotte's death, they tried to live the life she could not, in several unsuccessful attempts. Each time they tried to leave their home and experience some adventure, they found themselves reminded of Charlotte and, depressed, stayed inside.
Once Charlotte became undead (or "alive again", as some prefer to call it), she began sending her aunts pies laced with homeopathic drugs. In eating these pies, thinking them a gift from that boy who used to know Charlotte when they were young, the aunts found themselves more willing to leave the house. In time, it was common to see the two of them around Coeur d'Coeurs, or even visiting said boy, Ned, at the Pie Hole.
It was only a matter of time before they started going out of doors...individually.
During one of Vivian Charles' early solo excursions, she met someone she felt an immediate, indescribable bond with that she would, unfortunately, never find again.
She had spent the morning in a cheese museum (a fascinating place, which put great effort into their research, though perhaps less into the preservation of their displays), and was perusing the gift shop when she spotted an adorable little snowglobe. Reaching down to pick one up and look at it further, she bumped heads with another woman reaching for the same globe. They stepped back, cradling their skulls and apologizing, then got a good look at each other.
There was nothing immediately similar about them in appearance--Vivian was fond of bright colors in unusual Asian cuts, where this other woman was wearing a gray, sort of bland dress--but something just clicked when their eyes met.
"Again, I'm terribly sorry," Vivian insisted. "Vivian Charles." After a moment of indecision, she held out her hand.
"Virginia Gray," the other woman responded. She smiled politely and shook Vivian's hand. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm sure, but if you don't mind..." She motioned towards the snowglobe display.
"Oh, no, of course." Vivian moved out of the way, and Virginia picked out one of the globes, looking it over critically. As she watched the other woman inspect the snowglobe for cracks or damage, Vivian felt a very peculiar, very strong desire to make conversation. She would identify the feeling later as a desire to become friends. "Do you...like snowglobes?" she wondered.
"Oh yes, very much." Virginia responded, still looking over her snowglobe. "I have quite a collection back at home--one for almost every of the fifty states."
"That's...quite impressive."
"Thank you." Having finished her inspection, Virginia walked over to the cash register. Vivian followed her, a bit hesitant in her action.
"I, um...pardon me if I'm being rude, but, do you like pie?"
Virginia finished purchasing her snowglobe and turned to look at Vivian. Nervously, Vivian continued. "If you happen to have time later today, I know a place that makes very good pie. The owner used to be friends with my niece when he was younger, he sends me pies to..." It occured to Vivian that Charlotte was dead, and that this might not be an appropriate casual conversation topic. "I thought we might talk more about...snowglobes. And cheese."
Virginia looked at her snowglobe again (a wax-covered round of gouda), and looked back at Vivian. She smiled at her enthusiastically. After a moment, Virginia smiled.
"That sounds wonderful."
part 2
From:Re: part 2
From:Re: part 2
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Date: 2009-02-16 08:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-03 09:49 pm (UTC)Ned was everything Sylar despised. But his power was so useless, so horrifyingly burdensome even, that Sylar didn't want to kill him, just on the off chance he might be tempted to see how that horrendous ability worked. Not being able to kill who you wanted? Just awful.
So Sylar tried to slip away quietly, disappointed in his find, but Ned noticed him and assumed he was lonely and insisted that he try a piece of pie on the house.
Peach-blueberry pie. Even better than straight-up peach pie. Sylar had a new favorite.
That night, when Sylar told Ned that his eyebrows were sexy, when he ran his hand gently across Ned's eyebrows and cheek, down to the nape of the neck, Sylar was very glad that Ned didn't have a useful power.
But even though it was a great night, Sylar didn't come back. He had other powers to chase. He just walked out the door while Ned was still sleeping, stole three pies, and left.
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Date: 2009-02-16 09:01 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-02-16 09:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-16 09:03 pm (UTC)Fill 1/2
Date: 2016-07-26 01:25 am (UTC)“You’re up, Lodge. Enjoy.”
“I always enjoy helping people,” Julian says as seriously as he can muster. He scans the intake sheet - Sheppard, John, fending off a paternity suit by some woman named Candy Barre (for real? No wonder Madeline was smirking, this has got to be a joke). Sheppard has been living in the jurisdiction for at least the past six months, Madeline’s checked the box that means he qualifies for assistance. He’s a full-time student. Sheppard’s handwriting is slopy and masculine. Julian has heard all the jokes about his girly cursive and then some.
“He’s in conference room two,” Madeline says and saunters away, still grinning.
She rules the front desk with an iron first, and Julian was warned about getting on her bad side, but he thinks he’s been on it since day one.
The legal clinic used to be an apartment for visiting faculty, so it has a kitchen, a bathroom and even a shower, which is nice, but the workroom with the computers is what used to be the bathroom, the reception area is what used to be the den, and Julian is pretty sure that the two conference rooms are what used to be the pantry and the cleaning closet.
He straightens his tie, scoops up his notepad and pen, makes sure he has the intake sheet, and heads into conference room two.
“Good afternoon, my name is Julian Lodge, and I’m a 3L practicing under the 3L practice rule -” He stops short, because the man sitting at the conference table could be his twin, from his unruly hair (which Julian has gone to great lengths to tame) to his pointy ears (which Julian is embarrassed about) to his eyes (which are listed on his driver’s license as hazel but there is no color in the world adequate to describe all the colors in Julian’s eyes - in John Sheppard’s eyes).
“Well.” Sheppard clears his throat. “They say everyone in the world has a doppelganger.”
“Twin, actually,” Julian says. “A doppelganger is a death omen from germanic folklore. And usually I’d say the apostrophic They are wrong, but - this is quite uncanny.”
No wonder Madeline had been laughing.
“That’s one word for it.” Sheppard even sounds the same as Julian.
Julian forces himself to remain calm and professional. He slides into the seat opposite Sheppard. “So, I’ve reviewed your application for assistance. Tell me a little bit more about this - Candy Barre. Were you in a dating relationship?”
Sheppard shudders. “No.”
“In a non-dating sexual relationship.”
“Also no.”
“Then how does she possibly think you’re the father of her child?”
Sheppard’s mouth twists. “I was a gentleman. She was drunk at a party. I made sure she got home safe. She got pretty handsy with me in the cab.”
“So it’s your word against hers?”
“Yes.”
“Why not wait for the DNA test to will out?”
“Because she faked it.”
“Why would she do that? Other than the obvious, of course.”
Sheppard raises his eyebrows. “The obvious?”
Julian smirks. “Your good looks.”
“My father is Patrick Sheppard. I’m his oldest son.”
Julian knows who Patrick Sheppard is.
“My father and I don’t see eye-to-eye, and he’s probably disinherited me, but she recognized my name and got ideas.”
“Can you prove she faked the DNA test?”
“No, but there’s no other way it could say what it says.”
“How so?”
“Because I’m gay.”
“Never stopped a man from sleeping with a woman before,” Julian says, shuddering delicately.
Sheppard’s eyebrows shoot upward. “Really?”
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