#frederikntrevor

Obviously, it was related to Frederik – whom she still owed due to the breeding program – and to Levil, who clearly provided at least some of the genetic material.

But now, she looked at him… ‘in the name of peace’.

It seemed important to him.

Unlike any other supernatural being, he had an attachment to his body.

Mmmh.

The man in front of her…. fretted.

It was really the only explanation.

Explanations started and stopped. About how he needs to know everything. And doesn’t. About how he doesn’t want to ruin people’s lives.

How they should have talked it over with him – for someone so full off demonic politics that was almost laughable – and how he doesn’t really want to interfere.

But his DNA was HIS and his responsibility.

It shouldn’t even be possible!

The body – and DNA he was given belonged to HER and it shouldn’t be his problem. Just his own and no one else’s. And-

“Alright, Metatron. You are upset. I can give you all information you need to find your clones. And I can destroy any and all material that might be at Frederik’s disposal. Is that… acceptable?”

The man stared at her.

Still in her kitchen. Still not much further from the morning paper.

And he nodded. Curtly. Once.

“As long as it is out of his hands,” he said.

And she nodded. Apparently, his impression had not been a favourable one.

“Genetic material is easiest; he does not usually work with human. It’s easy to distinguish and easily destroyed. Developed cells are inside their eggs. But one is… living, actually. Not in the sense I would think critical, but she was born with your DNA. With interesting side effects, surely, but no conclusive data”

He stared some more.

It really was a strange fellow, this one. First going and trying to hire her as a hitman… and that in the morning… visiting her without weapons if you think she HAS that capacity. It was strange.

Also that he thought she WAS doing to help him.

… not that she WOULDN’T, but…

The assumption alone….

It was the strangest morning indeed…

“So… you can destroy the genetic material?”

She took a tiny sip of coffee: “Yes”

“And you can hand me over the eggs?”

She nodded sagely: “Yes”

“… AND I can meet the… uh… female… clone of myself?”

“Yes”

More staring. A blink. Then: “This… went better than… expected?”

“We are rather organised, thank you very much.” She raised her brow. It was a tiny slight after all.

More staring. Odd, really.

“… is there something else?”

He frowned, then: “… I think… it’s not a bad idea… to… talk to them. Meet them. The… female one?“

“Further in Frederik’s hand, yet still entirely possible. This week? Any favourable time for that?” – she still has not yet received any reassurances, but alright.

“…Wednesday?”

She nodded: “Alright. I think that would be all?”

He stared some more.

“I think so, at the very least. It might be the best idea to go home now, yes? Lay down for a while? It’s a bit of stress, I’m sure”

It was as polite a throw-out she could do.

He seemed to understand. At least with his searching eyes.

Very confused.

He hopefully had someone to go to.

It was not her.

And the man did stick around. Even after his acquaintances disappeared with an ‘early shift tomorrow’ or, in some cases ‘I’ve got late shift. Sure you wanna stay?”

The stranger stayed. Until the bouncers brought the last ones out. Even eyed the stranger for a moment.

Trevor thanked them and left. Only the stranger and him.

“Still there, now,” the stranger said after the door closed for the last time. He still drank from the almost-full glass.

“Mh. Yes”

“But no for long, it is terribly late,” he yawned.

“I- what? I… it was clear we would talk and… okay, lets make this short. Why do you have clones of me?” Trevor was… not in the best mood after hours of scribbling.

“Because it was interesting?” He made a face as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Yes, but how did you do it?”

“I took your genetic material, polished it and made clones? It’s really not that complicated. Now I just want to know if you can provide any info’s that are relevant to you,” he pointed the pen towards him. It somehow made everything worse.

“H- How in the world did you get my genetic material. I can’t be cloned,” Trevor didn’t want to hear that.

“Well, my results beg to differ. But it’s no matter. How? I got delivered, of course. Like everything,” he shrugged

“… no one can clone me, that’s ridiculous,” everything in him spoke against it, the hairs on the back of his neck raised. “And what do you mean delivered, who delivered it. Who the hell are you?!”

“Uh. Frederick. Smith. Born and raised. And… got them from clean-up crews. Fresher samples from personal encounters? MUCH easier now, certainly,” he yawned again, looking around. It was rather silent, “… you do shed skin averywhere”

“That’s just my corporation! The human half! The uninteresting part!”

‘Frederik’ smiled: “Heeeh… ‘s what you say… as if all ‘high and mighty’ has anything of value. Very straightforward, that one,” he supported his head on a hand.

“You cloned my human part” a deadpan question.

“Nooooo. That would be dead by now. But actually mixing. N Personality,” eyes drooped-

“You made them immortal?!”

“Noooo…. Jus…. yanno… energy… n new life… and cloning,” Frederik made a matter-of-fact gesture.

“There are immortal clones of me out there?!”

…

There was no answer… just a heap of unkempt hair and a hand still sticking up.

What.

Trevor shock him… just to get bapped away.

And curled further in the hoodie. Where that came from was probably not a question,

With a frown, he brought the creature in the guest room.

This… would not do.

And he – or most likely he – already walked over to him.

With a raised brow, he welcomed him to the counter: “Good evening. What can I bring you?”

“I actually know you!” the person says. They are pointing. They are wearing an oversized shirt and baggy pants and they are pointing. “You are the Metatron”

The second eyebrow joined the first: “Trevor Matthews is perfectly acceptable, thank you”

”Sure, sure” the stranger waved, “you’re out there, all in splendor and giving people drinks! So much easier to find!”

“… yes. Yet I must remind you to the one-drink-minimum”

“Oh!” He jammed his hand into the jeans and found a crumpled ten pound note. “Wouldn’t wanna violate any rules in here!” – he slapped the bill on the counter and waved at the bouncers.

“,,, so? What can I bring you?”

“Guinness,” he shrugged, “Sooo… you are here every day?”

“… there is also a no-flirting polic-“

“No worries, just want to know. Possibly to ask questions? I mean, come on, when did one get the chance to ask before? This is a ridiculous chance!”

Trevor pulled the beer for the… customer.

“... alright., I will not disclose any information regarding any employees’ shifts” he says and puts the Guinness in front of the strange man.

“Okay. Okay. Still no throwing out, I behave!” He lifted his hands. “I’ll think of something good, I promise!” And nips at the beer.

What a strange person.

…