THE DOPPELGÄNGER, EPILOGUE

WHAKATANE, NEW ZEALAND

Their server had just placed a new pitcher on their corner table.

The young woman - Anabel, Lara recalled – then drew back slightly, the empty pitcher dangling from her fingers.

"Listen, I hope you don't mind my asking," she began, eyeing Sam and Elsie, "But, you two are Yanks, right? We've been watching what's going on over there over the last few months and...we...um..."

The girl hesitated.

"Yes?" prodded Sam.

"Go on," said Elsie, smiling. "We won't bite."

Lara replenished her ale as the girl worked up the nerve to pose her question.

"I was wondering...not that I mean to pry, but...where do you stand on Trump?"

"On his windpipe," shot back the blonde without hesitation.

"I'll go with that," chuckled Sam. "Why?"

The girl seemed relieved. "Oh, nothing...just nice to see there's some sanity in the world after all..."

The girl drew off as Sam and Elsie exchanged impish grins.

"She's cute…anyway, where were we? Sam…?"

The pub's circular corner booth had been the scene of the most profound of dialogues. Fundamental tenets of the Human condition. Existentialism. Core questions of the Universe.

Sam Nishimura made her choice.

"Truth."

Elsie leaned forward, arms crossed on the table as she studied the Asian-American.

"Hmmmm, let's see…okay. Is Lara a screamer?"

The brunette almost choked on her ale.

"Bloody Hell!" protested the archaeologist. "That's not - you have to ask a question about Sam!"

"Actually, I don't," returned the blonde serenely. "I just need to pose the question to her."

"I challenge that!"

"Fine," countered Elsie. "Show me the rule book."

Sam smiled at the brunette. "She's right, you know."

Lara looked aghast. "But…but…Sam!"

The filmmaker turned to the blonde. "In answer to your question, yes, on occasion…but you have to push her hard."

Lara slid down a couple of inches in her seat. "Oh, bugger this…"

Sam turned back to the blonde. "Honestly though, I'm actually a bit surprised you didn't know that already.

Elsie shifted slightly. "We...haven't gotten quite that far yet.

"Oh, girl, you're missing out!" exclaimed the filmmaker. "I can tell you from experience it's the most incredible -"

"I'm right here, you know!" protested Lara.

"Oh, come on, sweetie," cooed Sam, nudging the brunette affectionately. "You've already slept with most of the table, what's the big deal?"

The archaeologist's cheeks flushed furiously. "Sam, for God's sake!"

"Well, with one notable exception," remarked Elsie. "But maybe we ought to rectify that?"

Sam and Elsie both turned to the doppelgänger, who had been sitting quietly opposite her template.

"What do you say?" asked the filmmaker.

The redhead locked her gaze on the horrified brunette.

"It could be interesting," said Doppie.

The brunette's cheeks turned crimson. "Absolutely not!"

The doppelgänger inclined her head slightly. "Are you not at all curious?"

"Well, I sure would be," remarked Sam. "Think about it, babe…it would be like an out-of-body experience, in a way."

"Almost transcendental, really," added Elsie helpfully.

"Out of the question!"

"Oh come on, don't be mean," chastised the blonde. "Doppie deserves her kick at the can, too."

Lara bristled. "For your information I am not a bloody CAN! Nor will I be KICKED!"

"Now now, sweetie, it's not nice to discriminate," rebuked the filmmaker.

"It's because I'm not human, isn't it?" asked the doppelgänger. "I suppose it would feel like bestiality to you."

"I... I n-never said that!" stammered Lara. "You're not a bloody animal!"

"Well, then..."

"Come on, girl," chimed Elsie. "Share the love."

The brunette clutched her mug with both hands, glaring at the table.

"Oh, stuff you lot," she grumbled.

Sam winked at the blonde. Sidling along the circular bench until both flanked the brunette, the two Americans snaked their arms around the archaeologist's waist to secure her in place.

"Aww, you know we love you, sweetie," purred the filmmaker, her lips lightly brushing the column of Lara's neck.

"What she said," breathed Elsie as she gently nuzzled the brunette's ear.

Lara squirmed.

"Stop it," growled the Englishwoman. "You won't buy me off…and this is hardly the time or place - !"

Sam's lips drifted up and contoured the brunette's jawline.

A moment later soft probes gently slithered into the Englishwoman's ears. Lara closed her eyes and steadied herself against the loving onslaught, a deep, guttural groan rising from her throat.

"Won't…work..."

The arms around her torso tightened, the Englishwoman rendered quite immobile by the increasing pressure of the amorous sandwich. Lust was battling with panic for control of the brunette's cooking brain.

"Get us…in trouble…"

The probes in her ears slowly inched deeper.

"S-stop," she gasped.

Elsie pulled out slightly. "Gonna give Doppie a go?"

Lara swallowed deeply. "N-no…"

"Right then…"

The blonde plunged back in. Both tongues writhed anew in renewed effort to meet somewhere within the archaeologist's skull.

Lara's breathing became increasingly ragged - surely they'd be thrown out before long?

The tip of the blonde's tongue tickled her eardrum.

The archaeologist gasped and shuddered, her defenses sundered: it had taken every drop of self-control not to cry out.

"Stop," she barely managed to croak. "I…I give…"

Following a reluctant pause, the loving probes slowly withdrew.

Lara slowly opened her eyes. Doppie's elbows were propped on the edge of the circular table, her chin cupped between her chalice-formed hands. She was staring back at the Englishwoman with intense curiosity.

"You'd better be bloody fantastic," rasped the brunette.