Disclaimer and such: check prelude.

AN: ranma8962 and SezZie, I'm glad you liked it. Mariel4000, I was confused by the laughter, but I hope it means you enjoyed the chapter.

No warnings on this one. This is pure fluff. Lyle fluff, that is.

Thanks for reading.

(Interlude)

Lyle stared at the open laptop and drummed his only thumb against the hard surface of the kitchen counter. Last night before leaving the office, he'd stopped by Broots' s desk to make it clear for the nerd that when he'd said 'now' earlier on, he'd actually meant 'two hours ago', so the information he'd asked for was already far behind its delivery deadline. It had worked and that same night the techie had sent him a massive email that contained all the gathered information available on project Darwin, divided into yearly reviews. Very good for Broots, Lyle thought, but very bad for him: there wasn't a single useful fact for Lyle and his puzzle among the memos, letters and money tracks found. Furthermore, the whole project seemed to be the epitome of transparency by Centre standards. Even the memos that alluded "dismissal" of personnel had been done by the book. There was nothing…. And yet, there was something, Lyle could feel it.

Taking another sip of his orange juice he set the glass down next to the running computer. Whatever it was he was looking for, had no direct relationship with the project, or at least he didn't think so. No, he persisted. Whatever crumbs Raines had left un-swept were somewhere around the periphery, waiting to be discovered with a magnifying glass the size of . …

"Wait"

With a few keystrokes he brought up the file that contained the information for 1999. There was an email; a notice dated May 2, 1999 stating that a Dr. Evan Gaarder, an OB/Gyn with a background in private genetics research programs, was joining the project to take a spot from a man less qualified. Lyle couldn't help his amusement as he stared at the electronic text: the name of the "replaced" man was Marks. Dr. Phillip Marks.

"Get in touch with Dr. Marks from the synthesis labs". Raines, the bastard.

Lyle hadn't contacted Dr. Marks right away as he had been told. Last night he'd been too busy with Jarod and Broots, and it had seemed to him that talking shop with the doctor could wait until the next day. Only now did he realize the error of his ways: daddy chairman had given him the missing piece he'd been looking for right from the beginning. The synthesis labs were meant for the research and development of biological agents. It was a place for biologist, biochemists, immunologists… and why not, genetics experts. But an obstetrician, no matter what his background, was simply out of place there. That had been the glaringly obvious clue staring at his face all this time.

Leaning against his spotless sink, Lyle crossed his arms and concentrated in making this new piece fit into his complicated puzzle. He knew this project that he had been embarked on was not about cloning Jarod. Despite the clues that the chairman had dropped regarding the replaceable nature of the pretender, Marks hadn't been kept alive all this time just so he could work on the remake of the Gemini project. Besides, the memo said Dr. Gaarder had been given Marks's job almost a month before the first clone was taken, so the timing ruled that one out. There was something else going on here, a sort of pet project that Raines was obviously carrying out without the knowledge of the triumvirate. Taking the dates into account, whatever was going on had begun around three years ago, back when the M. Parker was in charge of the Centre and …

Oh, my.

A bright smile appeared across Lyle's face suddenly brightening his day. All the pieces were falling together and finally showing him a picture. Granted, it was not a happy picture, or a clear one even, but it certainly was worth a thousand words, especially if he was right in his suspicions. And according to that probably inherited gut feeling he had recently learnt to trust, he was, which only heightened his satisfaction. He had all the good genes, no doubt about that.

Glancing distractedly at his watch he realized it was past the time to head out for work. In other words: Showtime.

While he waited for his system to shut down, the Centre executive finished his juice and grabbed a banana for the car ride. He was putting away the washed glass when his eyes fell on his kitchen knives which made the events of the night before rush back into his mind. It was a shame really, but he was going to have to put that plan on hold for the time being. First he needed to see what else he could find on Raines's scheme, and of course, there was also Jarod to take care of. Only when that was done would he be able to return to that Chinese restaurant and get that deliciously leggy hostess to come visit for a while. Picking up his laptop, Lyle decided he was adding his nutritional unbalances to the pretender's list of sins.

At least he knew there were still some leftovers hiding in his fridge.