It’s not her he’s been fucking anyway. Not in theory. What he wants from Tess, that was supposed to be a theory too.

The planetary authorities had had him dead to rights. Years of effortless political assassination, thanks to his shapeshifting talents, were about to come to an ignominious end. They offered him a choice. He took it.

Death, or life as a bodyguard for some genetic experiment on another planet. It would be... different. He could still kill. And he would still be alive. He submitted to the chemical neutering with a clenched jaw. They planted an emotional urge to ensure his total loyalty to her. Something latent, rising unbidden, in times of her crises. The thing that kept him killing for her, driving cross-country for her, morphing endlessly for her. He wasn’t supposed to do anything ...organic to her. With her. It was never an issue before.

A week after they moved to Roswell, after her first failure with Max, Tess came to him teary-eyed. He loves someone else, she wailed petulantly. A stupid cow-eyed bitch... why doesn’t he want me? He considered telling her to shut up and get a life, and remembered that this was her life. She was just as much of a lab rat as he was. So he patted her shoulder and told her Max would come around. She tilted back her pert head of curls and gazed at him consideringly, and walked away. Later that evening she stood before him in her pink pajamas and told him she needed him. "Can’t you. You know, be him for a little while? So I could practice?" Unbelievable. She was almost as twisted as he was.

He turned her down of course.

But ever since she suggested it... he hadn’t been able to get the idea out of his mind. It was all in the interests of science, of course, for the good of her planet... and he was a monkey’s uncle.

He thought about it scientifically. What would it feel like to touch her the way Max was supposed to touch her? Using his hands to pleasure her instead of causing harm to those in their way? What would she taste like? If he were to plunge himself inside her... would he feel the flash of pure pleasure he had felt killing that unfortunate Hubble woman decades ago? She had been about to whelp. He could feel the possibilities of future life winking out in a rush of white heat as she begged him for mercy. Of course he had shown none. Just knowing that Tess was meant to breed with that moon-eyed boy would make the act more deliciously transgressive, no doubt about that.

The four of them were one step closer to discovering their ordained fate. As entertaining as it would be to watch them struggle with the unpleasant and onerous truth, he decided to bow out of all the brow-beating and denial from the three lost ones. Tess, of course, would be one step closer to her goal. Good for her. But he didn’t have to be there to watch her sidle up to the little prince. He’d been planning to change into Pierce anyway. It was the most obvious thing. Still he had to wait around until Max the Magnificent "came up" with the idea on his own.

It was most ...revealing. Changing into Max had been an interesting whim. It was just practice for when Tess.... not that she had anything to do with it. He had just been bored. No one interesting to kill, such obvious clues to leave... it had been a pleasant rush being in such a young, handsome body. But Max was just a child. His human emotions were simple and boring. Just like that little human girl he thought he was meant for. Still she had surprised him with her spirit and her intelligence. And her little tongue was a touch more practised than he had thought it would be. Kids these days...

Agent Pierce was a man. He was a little more accustomed to that feeling of experience, the comfort of a sharp, yet suavely worn suit of a body. And Pierce was certainly a more aesthetically appealing figure than the other adult guises he’d worn over the years... He stood at the edge of the hill, in tune with the energy being harnessed in the cave up above. Soon it would all begin, and he could hardly wait. Killing humans had become too easy. He flexed his hands, anticipating the challenge of real equals in the art of assassination. He turned to leave, ready to pull the wool over the addled eyes of the FBI when he heard the scrabbling sounds behind him. There she was, the little lost girl, tumbling down the hill. Her pain radiated off her in waves. He smirked at her.

"Having fun yet?"

"Fuck off and die!" she spat at him. He morphed easily into Max in response, and put an effort into his sweet smile.

"How do you like me now, Miss Parker?"

She drew an outraged breath and flung herself at him, hands unfurled into futile little claws. He caught her easily and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her with deliberately cruel tenderness. And then, just as she lowered her resistance, he sent her images of Max and Tess entwined on the top of that ridiculous jeep. He tossed her to the ground.

"That, Miss Parker, is the future. Learn to live with it."

Because I have to.....

He stalked away from her, smiling a little. He could have killed her, he supposed, but where was the fun in that?

He stepped back into the shadows, breathing hard. The FBI was so disorganised that getting the unit to run circles around itself in his absence had been a snap. Leaving him free to observe the four of them. Tess was persistent, he’d give her that. Watching through a window at the Crashdown he could see her slowly wearing down Max’s resistance. His smiles were less forced, his brush-off of her embraces less reflexive. Good for her. Damn her. He could feel his chemical barriers wearing down. Pierce’s determination was seeping into his genomes. It wasn’t such a bad thing. Soon he would be in control of himself again. And he could surprise Tess. She had asked him to, once. She might remember that. Better late then never.

He turned to leave and there she was. Her brown eyes were bitter and sad, her spine ramrod-stiff.

"Having fun yet?" she asked him and walked away without waiting for a reply. Poor little Miss Parker. Thinking her miniscule life had come to an end when she didn’t know the true meaning of being fucked with by a higher authority. He looked through the window again. Tess was bringing Max a cherry coke, and her fingers lingered deliberately on his wrist. Max’s shoulders were slumped and he would not look at her, but it did take him a good five seconds before he freed himself from her grasp.

That is when it came to him. Inhabiting the body of a twisted individual had its definite advantages. He morphed effortlessly into Max and strolled around back. He clambered up the wall and slipped into her room. She was sitting on the bed, ripping pages out of a journal. She looked up and saw him. They stared at each other for a beat.

And then they came together, on her frilly sheets, papers crinkling beneath them. It was not as though he has never had sex before, in human form. He considered it research into the human condition. But blowsy hookers at truck stops were business transactions. He generally killed them anyway, just on principle. He wasn’t planning on killing Liz. Yet.

Her body was little, with slight curves and a dancer’s grace. If it wasn’t for her damned long hair he could pretend it was Tess. He was going to pretend anyway. Just on principle. The plan was to...what, exactly? Practice fucking her and then go to his little princess? It would do for now. Besides, no matter how many times Miss Parker cried out Max’s name, he had a feeling she knew quite well who it really was.

He did learn from hookers not to kiss anyone when having sex. That made it mean something. And this did not mean anything. It was a scientific experiment. It pleased him that she was ready and waiting for him each night. She had come to expect no tenderness, no attempt at courtship. He was amused at her readiness to abase herself for her twisted little fantasy. As though she would ever let the "real" Max take her from behind, without sweetness, without protestations of love and most importantly, without bringing her flowers.

Every night he knew her body better. The tanginess of it, the heat.. the musky intensity of her wet skin. She let him do things to her that caused her to writhe in pleasure and pain and she called him Max.

"You taste just like him," she made the mistake of saying that one night. They were not supposed to talk. He left her immediately and didn’t come back for three days. He watched Tess walk hand-in-hand with Max instead. He dug his fingers into his palm but he didn’t feel anything at all.

He came back though. And this time he tasted of peppermint. Sharp, hard, cold... she got the message. And it did seem to produce the most interesting effect on her, in certain places....

Last night was unusual. She met him with her usual fervour. He didn’t think about how easily he slipped into the glove of her, the rhythm of her. He realised that he hadn’t thought much about Tess in a while. He sped up in fury and intensity. Her little hands snaked around his jaw and she pinned his gaze with hers. Usually, she was somewhere else. Usually her eyes were closed as she murmured that one holy name over and over under her breath. But tonight she was looking at him. She pulled him closer and fastened her lips on his. He felt something dissolve inside him as he opened his mouth to let her in. He lost control of the rhythm, he was slipping... he felt his body change... he looked over his shoulder at her girlish dresser. He was Pierce, riding a wave of undeniable pleasure, of her, in her. He could have changed again, he had time... but he didn’t.

"Having fun yet?" her voice was breathless, filled with a smile. He looked at her. Tiny body, slight curves, long dark hair. He fucked her again, just on principle.

He stands in front of the bathroom mirror, slowly unwrapping the cheap peppermint candy. He hasn’t gone to see Liz. He will not go to see Liz. Max has just walked Tess home. She will be alone. He can feel his pulse thrum, unencumbered by chemical restraint.

And she will be alone too.

He is free to do as he pleases. Killing a few of the coming visitors will be easy, hitching a ride home even easier. And he has a to-do list for when he touches down. But before all that... He is ready for his little princess, he knows everything he needs to know to please her. He shapeshifts into Max.

He hears a sweet, mocking voice in his ear.

"Having fun yet?"

He morphs unthinkingly into Pierce. He sucks fiercely on the peppermint and reaches for another striped candy. He stands in front of the bathroom mirror and switches seamlessly from Max to Pierce, from Pierce to Max. He grabs a fistful of hard little candies. He’s practicing, he tells himself. Just on principle.