AN: Warning - Asori is very proud of this chapter and the reader might die of laughter at some parts. And then possibly cry. The reader should also note that Spike can get kind of gross and inappropriate, so a strong stomach is advised. Asori hopes the reader will enjoy this chapter.
"So, how's rugby going?"
Spike shrugged, saying "I'm the left wing."
"Is that a good thing?" Bree asked.
"Yeah. It's 'cause I'm faster and more aggressive than the others."
Bree traced her finger across her cheek, snagging the thin chunk of hair that had caught on her lips and flinging it out of the way. The wind simply blew it back into her face again. She looked up into the gray sky. The ponderous clouds had rolled in since she and Spike had left the mansion forty-five minutes before, and their heaviness seemed to affect the mood between the siblings.
In the attempt to lighten it, Bree tried a new topic – one she actually knew something about. "So, you and Kenzi – anything happening with that?"
Spike darkened. "No. Don't ever say that name again."
"You don't need to be bashful," Bree laughed.
"I'm far from bashful," Spike snarled. "I want to rip out that wannabe warthog's tongue to use as a stress ball."
"Whoa." The middle bionic's eyes widened. "What'd she do to get you so worked up?" But upon receiving a vehement glower from the app, Bree dropped the subject.
A car passed them, shaking the ground and sending a gust over the two of them. Spike clamped his hand down on his hat and Bree hastily fixed her hair.
"So, um, you've been listening to music lately – what have you been listening to?" Bree asked awkwardly.
"Stuff."
"What stuff?"
Spike was not amused by the question. "Stuff."
"What's your favorite song?"
He shrugged, kicking at a weed poking out of a crack in the curb.
"Come on, Spike," Bree groaned. "Humor me."
Spike smirked, recalling how Carter often said the same thing. He replied as he did to Carter: "No, I'm humoring myself."
"You doofus," Bree chuckled, shoving him a little. Spike shoved her back, sending her lurching a little ways into the quiet road. "Hey!" she exclaimed, stepping back into safety. "It's on!"
The two of them pushed each other around, gradually getting rougher as the game continued. Bree would squeal when she would almost fall, and when she would shove Spike in return, he would catch himself and cackle.
On one particularly hard shove by Spike, Bree responded with a hip-check, sending the youngest tumbling down the slight hill of grass along the side of the road. She had hit him so hard that she couldn't stop herself from falling with him.
When they reached the bottom, Spike just let himself flop to rest, sprawled on his back across the soft little stalks. Bree came to a stop before rolling onto her stomach, studying the app.
"That was really fun – that's more fun than I've had in a long time," Bree chuckled.
"Rugby's better," Spike said into the air.
"Eh, maybe. But I'd rather do this with just my brother than with a bunch of sweaty guys."
"No dog piles for you?"
"No, this is fine. It's better than hanging out with Caitlin."
"What do you kitties even do?" Spike scoffed.
Bree set her jaw in irritation. "We are not kitties. And we go to the mall and window shop or talk. Usually we end up sitting on the edge of the fountain and Caitlin fishes out all of the coins."
Spike snorted with disdain.
"Hey, she's one of the only friends I've got – Stephanie makes sure of that."
"Who's she?"
"She's the cheer captain and the most popular girl in the school. She hates my guts."
"Why? Your guts would make great beanbags for a game of beanbag toss."
"Ew. You're disgusting, you know that?" Bree's face was twisted in a grimace.
A sly smile danced across the app's lips. "I'm serious – just eat a good lunch before we cut you open, and then they're already stuffed!"
"Eewwww, gross! Stop it, Spike!" Bree hollered, plugging her ears and squeezing her eyes shut. Spike hooted with laughter, letting his arm droop over his face.
"What is it with boys and being absolutely disgusting?" Bree grumbled when she finally unplugged her ears, blinking her vision back into focus.
"It's fun," Spike snickered.
"You're not even a real boy, and you're the worst of them all!"
"Not a real boy, huh? Want me to prove it?"
"No, no, no!" she said quickly, her face flushing. "I mean, you're artificial intelligence – you aren't a real human."
"Does that even matter?" Spike snapped, suddenly cross.
"Well, I mean, in TV and books and stuff, artificial intelligence is robotic, it works because of fancy tech stuff. It can't feel emotions or understand people."
"I'm not an it."
"I know," Bree mumbled. "You are way more complex. You do think and feel; you are practically human…."
"Yeah, I am," Spike breathed.
"Are you sure you're not actually Chase?" Bree asked abruptly.
"Do I look like Chase to you? Er, act like Chase to you?"
Bree pursed her lips. "Not at all. But… I don't know. There's this personality disorder-"
"I know, and that's not what it is."
The middle bionic was taken aback by the hostility that had seeped into his tone. She explained herself with a tentative note to her own tone. "But, like, the person will deny it in all branches besides the main one, and each branch seems like a whole different person. It sounds a lot like you and Chase."
"That's not us!" Spike roared. Birds in a nearby bush exploded from the branches in a flurry. "I have nothing to do with Chase."
Bree rolled onto her back, staring into the sky. She couldn't help the ache in her heart at how the clouds looked about to cry.
"You really killed Chase?"
"Do you think I lied?"
"You've lied before."
"I. Murdered. Chase. Chase Davenport is dead."
"Don't say that," Bree choked.
"Saturday night? I saw him face to face. I destroyed him."
"What?"
"I pointed a gun at his heart. And I pulled the trigger."
"No, no, stop," Bree stuttered, unable to stifle her sobs. Tears streaked freely down to her ears and into the grass. "I hate you," she whispered.
"About time," Spike grunted, closing his eyes.
Bree sucked in a shaking breath, saying "I can't, I can't be mad at you. Chase wouldn't have wanted that."
"Psh, are you kidding? He hated me more than anyone else."
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Spike pretended to think for a moment. "I hated him too. Still do."
"No, Chase didn't want anyone to hate anybody. You're wrong," Bree argued. She had to believe there was a reason not to hate Spike, she just had to, or else….
"Whatever you need to tell yourself, princess."
"No, you're my brother too, and I refuse to hate you. I can't live like that."
"Sure you could. Adam and Leo are already doing it.'
"And they're wrong!"
The two of them sunk into silence, filled only with Bree's huffs and sniffles. Occasionally there was a hiccup heard from her as well. Spike only simmered.
The silence was finally broken when both their phones buzzed, the mission alarm going off. Bree shot up into sitting position, Spike casually pulling out his phone from where he was at. "A mission…?"
She quickly wiped away her tears, standing and in turn pulling the app to his feet. "We have to go."
"Even me?" Spike was about to ask, but his words were lost in the empty air as she whooshed them away.
