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[kickem]

Ray. Leave a message.

[Texts, calls (for 90s canon and modern day) and pictures and videos (for modern day)]

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[kickem]

What are you--? No, NO!

[Caught between 'oh, shit guy with a knife' and 'ew, gross' as he scrambles half way up the back of the sofa.]

Don't you fuckin' cut yourself in my apartment.

[How is he meant to explain a dead him in his own place?]

[hairlocked]

It's fine, really.

[ But he grimaces as he does it, because it is sort of gross, and there's blood and oozing, and Leoben looks entirely too pleased with himself, unspooling the wire with sticky hands and snapping it with his teeth, then jabbing the sharp end into his arm. ]

There's no need to look so nervous, Ray. I'm not doing anything I wasn't designed to do.

[kickem]

No. Stop it, that's-- nn...

[So, so tempted to grab for the knife but that risks both of them getting injured and if this guy really wants to start cutting himself then... Whatever.]

The fuck is that supposed to do? You sick fuck.

[hairlocked]

[ Poor Ray. This is literally the worst thing that could happen to an oversensitive queasy at the sight of human suffering sort of guy, right?

Leoben finishes, letting the wire hang from his bleeding arm and bringing the other end up to jam into the stereo jack. He closes his eyes for a moment, and then the stereo turns on, and the radio tuner whirs through the channels, settling on a samba. The volume drops to a more conversational level. ]

Now do you believe me?

[kickem]

[It's pretty high on the list of things he never knew he didn't want to see but saw anyway. He's not doing a great job of averting his gaze, but that's because curiosity has him looking back every time he tries to look away.

Guy bleeding with a wire stuck in his arm. Radio doing stuff. Still kind of stuck on the bleeding part.]

That is disgusting. You do not do that. That is sick.

[It's kind of like he picked a puppy up off the street and it shit on it's carpet. Except this one is just bleeding and being gross instead.]

[hairlocked]

Ray, answer the question. I can use the radio waves for other things. We can listen into the police scanner--

[ Which is what it does, with another little whir, and sure enough there's chatter from the neighborhood coming through it now. ]

--or we can feedback our conversation straight to the station through the tape recorder. That's easy too.

[ He cocks his head over again. Still oozing blood, still with his sticky fingers holding the wire to the machine. ]

I don't know what else to try.

[kickem]

Yeah. Fine. I believe you. Just... just stop with that.

[Or he might actually puke on his own rug, which would be impractical and annoying and mean having to actually clear up.]

You sure bleed a lot for a robot.

[hairlocked]

[ Leoben sniffs, and grimaces, and drops his head down to pull the wire out of his wrist. The stereo switches to radio static in the meantime, and he gets the wire fall onto the floor with the bloodied knife, then wraps his hand around his wrist and looks back up, grinning victoriously. ]

I'm not as good at it as the others were.

[ Lonely noises. ]

Could you get the first aid kit?

[kickem]

[That is so gross. And a waste of good wire. But kind of a neat party trick were it not for the self harm and blood.]

Uh. Yeah. That's...

[Briefly considering, and then pointing off towards his bathroom where he dart away to and returns seconds later with a little pack of generic first aid stuff which he hands over. Ray used to far more back in the days of boxing.]

So, okay. So say you are a robot from the past who is like my uh, genetic ancestor or whatever. What's the point? Why find me out? Cause I really don't believe that special bullshit. You go find the President or somethin', someone who can make an actual diff.

[hairlocked]

[ Leoben waits quietly, then takes the first aid kit and goes about getting his blood over everything in there too, thanks for helping, Ray. He manages to scrub away most of the blood under the wound, at least, sprays it with antiseptic, then bandages it one handed, using his teeth to tie a knot like he's just come from the trenches.

He huffs, relieved, but holds his arm nice and high to keep more blood from spilling. And then there's just him sitting in a bloody mess, grinning cheerfully at Ray. ]

You're special because we're genetically identical, Ray. But you're human. Entirely, one hundred percent human. You're beautiful.

Everything you do, your entire life, is more valuable than any presidency. You have a calling, you just don't know it yet.

[kickem]

[Hey, he's not touching that blood and gross stuff, not when that dumb robot self inflicted it. He can clean up his own mess, thank you. Instead he's just going to lurk awkwardly and hope the guy doesn't pass out of bleed all over his furniture.]

Is my callin' to be a hundred percent human? Cause I'm doin' pretty good at that. So is most of the human race though. I mean outta the billions there must be a few identicals. Y'see it all the time when kids look like their grandparents or great grandparents.

[hairlocked]

Identical physically, perhaps, but you're genetically perfect. Genetically, Ray. It's a mathematical improbability, but here you are.

[ Bloodied, but ever so cheerful, and suddenly he lunges across the space and wraps his bloodied hand around Ray's jaw, leaning up into him, pressing very close. ]

Here you are.

[kickem]

Yeah, okay. Hands off though. Museum piece, right? Look don't touch.

[Trying to step out of the grip of those sticky hands.]

[hairlocked]

But I--

[ He lowered his hands. ]

I don't even know if any of the others are still alive. I haven't seen any of them for hundreds of years. And you're so...so young, and beautiful.

You don't like to be touched?

[kickem]

[Ray rubs at a spot under his jaw with his palm, as if trying to wipe away whatever that grip might have left behind.]

Nah. Not... uh. I dunno. Just a lot a to try and believe, and it's hard to think when you're gettin' all touchy feely.

[Still not sure if he can trust the crazy dude, lets be honest.]

You got a thing for yourself, or just genetic perfections?

[hairlocked]

[ Well he did leave a healthy smudge of blood there, sorry about that, Ray. ]

There were thousands of us, all the same, the same, and the same. And there was a lot of time, a lot of sitting around. We tried to reproduce--well, not with each other, that would be ridiculous, but there were a lot of things to learn, it was more practical to discover most of them with each other.

[ A flicker of a smile. ]

I can't help but wonder how close to the same you really are.

[kickem]

[He figured as much. And just after he'd showered too.]

So you uh, just slept with a buncha robots.

[Was that last bit about being the same some kind of innuendo. Freeeeak.]

[hairlocked]

I haven't done it for a very long time. Thousands of years.

[ Sad robot sadness. He huffs, then draws back into himself, sitting on the floor at Ray's feet. ]

Are we going to Canada?

[kickem]

Canada? No. Why?

[Blinking down at the guy on the floor. Seriously weird social skills. Possibly weirder than Fraser's.]

Have you seriously not uh, y'know, had sex in thousands of years?

[hairlocked]

You mentioned it before.

[ Although he supposed going to the consulate was entirely out of bounds now, considering Ray wanted to keep him away from Fraser. He flickered into a wary smile. ]

Let me see...beautiful, Egyptian. So yes, thousands of years. [ He sighed. ] It used to be you just knocked them senseless and threw them over your shoulder.

[kickem]

Oh, right, the consulate. Uh. Yeah.

[The worlds most dismissive yeah of all time.]

Fuck, I never thought I'd meet a guy who'd had less sex than me in this millennia. Although, pretty sure the knockin' on head thing counts as rape, buddy.

[hairlocked]

You'd be surprised. It was the way things were done for the longest time.

[ He chews on his knuckle for a moment, inadvertently licking a lot of the blood away in the process. ]

You haven't... [ He gestured to the bruise coming up on his jaw. ] There's never been anyone else?

[kickem]

[A shrug. Damn, he's starting to realise his own stupidity at even bringing this up in the first place. Should not talk about sex, or lack of, with a random dude. Even if it is a ruggedly handsome dude.]

Not like. Uh. Not successful stuff, nah, not really.

[hairlocked]

Not successful? You mean there were attempts?

[ He squints up at Ray, who's looking wary and uncertain now, and if Leoben was remotely human he wouldn't blame him. Instead it's awkwardness all the way, and touching his knee again. ]

You mean you couldn't close the deal. Do you think you've forgotten how?

[kickem]

[The knee touch is enough to have him stepping just slightly away, still uncertain of the touch and entirely unused to much physical connection beyond friends and family.]

Not forgotten. Just, y'know? Hard to find anyone when you're workin' all the time, I guess. And uh, the uh, the women I manage to ask out don't... [Awkward shrug.] ... Don't stick around.