Disclaimer: The characters in this story, with the exceptions of the bad guys, Sam Leland and Elizabeth Dillingham, are the property of Pebblehut FBEye, Inc and Paxson Entertainment. Elizabeth Dillingham is the creation of aubreysmom, and the rest are RRP's.
Author's Note: I need to reiterate something, so folks don't get confused. This series was started long before "The Kiss" and the information we got on Myles' sister and parents. This universe is based on a comment from "The Fugitive," a first-season episode, where we learn that Myles has brothers (a little tidbit someone in the continuity department must have forgotten, since there was no mention of them in "The Kiss."). So the deviation gets a bit wider as we go on – call this an "ideal universe."
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Chapter 1: Mirror Image
Tara Williams liked arriving at the office early, despite the fact that she hated dragging herself out of bed at the crack of dawn. There was a certain peace in the solitude before the Bullpen became busy, starting off the day by leaning over her keyboard and listening to the drip-drop of the coffee maker.
With those savored moments to strive for, very rarely was she not the first person to arrive. When she wasn't the first in the room, it was usually due to outside circumstances, or urgent case matter that compelled someone to rush to their desk as the sun rose. It was like farm work, with a pencil cup instead of a milk can, she decided, after encountering the "Scare from Fellow Early Agent" phenomenon for the third or fourth time.
So she was rather surprised, when she entered the office at 7 a.m., to find Myles spinning in his desk chair. Her surprise only multiplied when the chair whirled to face her, and he waved and grinned before the rapidly turning chair moved him in the opposite direction again.
"Myles?" There was a world of doubt and suspicion in Tara's tone. She had the sinking feeling that she was dreaming, and that she really had forgotten to set her alarm clock as she had gone to bed thinking. That person in the chair, though he looked exactly like the Myles she knew, couldn't possibly be Myles Leland III, could he? Not in the baggy designer jeans, or the band T-shirt that read "Dashboard Confessional" (complete with autographs, apparently) and the skateboard shoes. Most definitely, not with the bleached hair that was a tad longer than she remembered. She racked her brain, trying to come up with an undercover case that would account for what she was seeing.
"Almost! But not quite!" was the cheerful response from the still-whirling person in the desk chair. The chair slowed, his eyes gave her a once-over, and there was a drawn-out and amazed, "Woah..." from the Myles lookalike. He leaned back and sank to a nearly horizontal position.
"Sam!" A voice behind Tara roared, causing her to jump and nearly drop her things. The man in the chair flew out of it and bounded across the room.
"Myles!" He replied happily. "Dude, it's been forever!"
Tara slowly turned, almost afraid of what she would see, and found herself looking at two mirror images. The one in the classy punk-rock wear, from the chair, was hugging an identical copy of himself— except the copy was wearing much more Myles-oriented clothing – a suit and coordinating tie. The one that was most Myles-like didn't look all that receptive or thrilled, and wasn't returning the hug. He peeled the first copy away from him, and held him at arm's length.
"How did you get up here?" The Myles wearing a suit asked.
"Well, I...I um...I told them I was you and had left my badge in my desk?" The other one answered with a sheepish look.
"So I heard downstairs just now, after going through ten minutes of proving I'm really me."
Tara shook her head, trying to clear it and figure out what was going on.
Myles-with-the-suit turned to her and sighed. "Tara, this is my twin brother, Sam...Sam, this is Tara Williams..."
"Howdy." The punk rocker extended a hand, and grinned at her again. "Sam Leland."
"Uh...hi..." Tara was still trying to find a foothold, and get her train of thought back on track. Having two different copies of Myles in the same room made it increasingly hard to do so.
"Sorry about that, Tara." The Myles-that-seemed-to-really-be-Myles grabbed Sam by the arm, "It won't happen again, will it?" He demanded through clenched teeth.
"I dunno. It might. Depends." Sam shot back, wincing at the pressure on his arm; there was a pause, and then he broke the hold and slammed a fist into Myles' chest. "Point for me."
Myles sucked in a breath and glared at Sam. "So," he ground out, trying to at least sound civil. "What brings you here? How long are you staying?"
Sam leaned against a nearby desk, and looked up at the ceiling. "I come with the wind. Which happened to die about the same time I arrived, so I dunno how long I'll be around. Couple days, maybe a couple of weeks."
Myles looked alarmed at this news, and quickly asked the next crucial question. "Where are you staying?"
"Your place. Duh." Sam rolled his eyes. "Where else?"
"I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming. Someone pinch me and wake me up." Tara squeezed her eyes shut and mumbled under her breath. There was a sharp prick on her arm, and she pulled away from it with an injured, "Ow!" as her eyes snapped open.
"Nope. You're not dreaming." Sam told her, quite earnestly.
This time, Myles rolled his eyes and growled, "Sam, leave her alone."
"Well, she asked!" Sam retorted indignantly.
"Oh my word. I'm dreaming. There can't possibly be two of you." Another voice entered the scene, and all three heads turned to see Lucy standing in the doorway with a shocked expression on her face.
"Well, there ain't two of him, but there are two of us," was Sam's ready answer. "And that's not nearly as bad."
Myles hit him in the arm, and Sam slapped his brother upside the head in retribution.
Lucy moved into the office, and walked over to Tara to whisper, "Am I asleep?"
"Unfortunately, no."
"Look, can I get a house key and just be gone? I'll explain more later, but it's been a while since we've stopped and I don't want Glorfindel to pee on my car seats." Sam held out a hand to Myles for a key, and gave his brother his best innocent, puppy-dog eyes.
At the name, Tara perked up. "Glorfindel the Elf?" she asked in confusion.
"Nope, my cat." Sam clarified. "If I had an elf, I wouldn't be worried about him peeing on the car seats."
Tara stifled a laugh, and Lucy raised an eyebrow in amusement. Myles, however, simply glared at Sam and didn't relinquish the house keys.
Sam dropped the hand he had been holding out, and shoved it into his pocket. "Okay, then. I'll pick the lock."
There was an awkward pause in the room; then it was interrupted by a cheerful voice. "Good morni–" Bobby Manning stopped short, looking at Myles and then Sam, his eyes slowly moving back and forth.
"Hey, you're kinda cute..." Sam announced curiously. "Wanna go out?"
If seeing two copies of Myles in the same room didn't shake the Aussie, being asked out by one of them blew him away. His jaw dropped, and he tried to think of something to say. "Uh...Myles? Um..."
"Shut up, Sam. He's kidding, Bobby." Myles replied promptly, hitting Sam in the arm. "This is my twin brother, Sam."
Bobby moved warily around them and headed for his desk, shaking his head to clear it. Lucy and Tara exchanged mirthful looks, and both went for their own morning work when it was clear that nothing more was going to come of the matter at the moment.
"Why are you really here, Sam?" Myles questioned coldly, when the others were out of earshot.
"I heard you were sick." Sam mumbled, his shoulders slumping. "Mom called and said something about it. I thought I'd drop by and see if you were okay. I didn't think you'd be so mad about it."
"When did Mom call you?" There was a glimmer of sudden compassion in Myles eyes, and his voice lost its icy tone.
"Almost two weeks ago."
It wasn't difficult for Myles to regain his previous demeanor. "And you didn't start driving until just yesterday? I was in the hospital, Sam – with Ebola. I almost died."
"Well, she just said you were sick. I thought it was the flu or something." Sam said defensively.
"Maybe, if you had shown up, you would have known differently."
Sam eyed him, frustrated. "Maybe, if you bothered to call me once in a while, I would know when something was up."
"I didn't used to have to…" Myles stopped short, an ancient pain crossing his face. Then it was gone, replaced by a stoically mumbled, "Sorry."
His twin's eyes blazed momentarily, but, like Myles, it vanished a second later. The two of them stood there in a face-off for a long minute; it was Sam who finally backed down.
"Okay, so I haven't been the best brother. But at least I'm here now, right?" He flashed a grin. "I'll stick around for a while to make up for it."
"Don't bother." Myles' eyes lit up in alarm.
Sam missed the look, and assured him, "Oh, it isn't a bother. No problem. I don't mind at all."
"That makes one of us."
"Can I have the keys now? I really don't want Glorfindel to leak all over my car."
With a defeated sigh, Myles tossed Sam a house key, and warned him not to lose it. Sam promised, and disappeared out the door with a final wave. Myles watched his brother's retreating figure, and staggered over to his desk to collapse in his chair. "This is the last thing I need right now," he muttered. "Superman Sam and his Elven cat, back to plague the somewhat normal lives of the people around him. Just great."
Bobby was still trying to shake off his shock, but he managed a grin. "I thought twins were supposed to be pretty close, mate. You and Sam seem more like oil and water. Or gasoline and matches."
For a moment, the Aussie saw a flash of what he could only call anguish cross his friend's face. Then it was gone, and Myles grabbed a file to work on, his demeanor all business.
"Old news, and not particularly interesting. Do we have something constructive to do today?"
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That afternoon, Dimitrius walked into the Bullpen with Sue and Levi, talking animatedly about something related to a minor case they were finishing up. Sue stopped short as she saw Myles at his desk, and Myles at hers. Her eyes panned back and forth between the two for a long minute.
"Myles!" One of them sat straight up, looking dead-on at Levi. "How come they wouldn't let me bring Glorfindel up here, but she can bring her stupid dog?"
The other Myles, the one at his own desk, looked up. "Because, Sam, Levi is a service dog. He helps her because she's deaf." He rose and came over to where Sue was still trying to process her double vision. "Sue, this is my brother, Sam." He actually tried to fingerspell his twin's name, and did fairly well.
"Oh, hey, D-man..." The twin looked over at the black agent, who nodded back in silent acknowledgement, a smile parting his lips.
"Wait a minute..." Lucy interrupted, walking up to them. "You knew about him, D?"
Dimitrius nodded, the smile broadening. "Yeah. He blew into the Hartford office once while I was up there on a temp assignment. I don't think the place was ever the same." He gave Sam a high-five as he headed for his desk.
Sue still looked a little confused, but she managed a smile as well. "Nice to meet you, Sam. And actually, Levi's pretty smart."
"You read my lips!" Sam exclaimed excitedly, moving closer to her and patting Levi on the head. "I saw that on...uh...hmm...was it? No...Sesame Street! That's it! I saw it on Sesame Street once."
"That's right," Sue replied. "As long as I can see your lips, I can tell most of what you're saying, even across the room." A twinkle lit her brown eyes. "So you have to be careful what you say around me."
"Oooh." Sam grinned. "So you're F.B.Eye?" He pointed to his eye to indicate which manner of the word he was using, said blue-grey eyes dancing playfully and occasionally sneaking a glance at Myles to judge his brother's reactions.
"Righto," Bobby interjected with a brotherly grin. "Our very own secret weapon. Bad guys, beware."
"She reads lips," Sam said in a reasoning tone. "Besides, you would be enough to lure the bad guys in, I think. One look at you, and they'd all swoon!" Sam waved a hand in the air melodramatically, the grin still plastered on his face.
"Excuse me..." Sue tapped Sam on the arm, and he turned back to her. "But did you just say 'spoon' or am I reading you wrong?"
"Swoon." He repeated carefully. "It's what you see people do when he walks down the street. Especially high-end. Brokers are such saps for Aussie dudes."
Sue looked over at Bobby in confusion, noting that the Aussie's grin had vanished completely, and the blue eyes were murderous. She then looked at Myles for some sort of explanation, and he wearily shook his head, and struggled for a moment to remember the fingerspelling. Bad joke. He then waved a hand for never mind.
She glanced back at Bobby, then decided it was worth the risk. "Yeah, I can see what you mean."
The Aussie started to retort, and she flashed her brightest smile at him. He hmphed and turned back to his paperwork.
Sue looked to Sam, only to find that he was no longer there. He had abandoned her for D's desk, and was leaning over it, talking to the agent. She leaned back to see what he was saying, and caught a conversation in which D was apparently trying to humor him.
After about five minutes, during which D shot several glances in his direction, Myles decided it was time to limit everyone's "Sam exposure" for one day. He got up and walked over to his twin. "Hey, Sam?"
"Howdy, Random Identical Pedestrian. What can I do for ya?" Sam turned around to face Myles.
The agent ignored the quip. "I just thought of something. Glorfindel's in an unfamiliar place. I'd really hate for him to get himself in trouble while he's exploring, and not have you there to get him out of it."
"You don't think he'll get hurt, do you?" Sam's eyes widened, and for a split second he was completely and utterly serious.
Myles' eyes were just as grave. "Well, I don't know, but maybe you should go check on him, and keep him company until he has a chance to adjust. I shouldn't be late tonight. Today's just paperwork. I'll call you if something comes up."
"Good idea." Sam nodded rapidly, grabbing his car keys off Myles' desk. "I just don't want him to, like, fall in the blender or anything...promise to call?"
His twin raised a hand. "I promise. And, as far as the blender goes...just keep the lid on it, and he can't get into it. Okay?"
"Okay. I hope he's okay..." There was a pause, and Sam gasped. "I forgot to leave the peanut butter out! He'll be starving!" And with that, he flew out of the room.
Myles remained where he was until he was sure Sam was out of earshot. Then he turned full circle, raking the room with his eyes, stopping where he was sure Sue could read his lips. "I expect to be exempt from coffee and doughnut runs for the next month."
A chorus of approval was the unanimous response.
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Myles could hear the stereo clearly as he got out of his car at 5:30 that evening. Mrs. Patten, his next-door neighbor, walked over to him before he got to the front door.
"That's been going on all afternoon," the old lady said, her face indicating that punk rock wasn't her preferred genre. "You adopt a bunch of kids or something?"
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Patten," he replied quickly. "I'll take care of it…immediately." He opened the door as she stalked back to her house, and was assailed by several hundred decibels of electric guitar.
The kitchen was a disaster. Every cupboard was open, assorted items were strewn across the counter, and it appeared that a shaken bottle of root beer had exploded onto the ceiling and the cherry cabinetry. Myles gritted his teeth, unearthed the remote for the stereo, and switched the power off.
If he'd expected silence at that point, he was mistaken. Almost as loud as the stereo had been, a series of beeps, buzzes and other indistinguishable sounds were emanating from the TV. He walked into the living room.
Sam was sprawled on the sofa, a loudly-mewing Glorfindel perched on his shoulder, a game controller in his hands and his eyes glued to a screenful of cartoon characters in go-carts. Around him was scattered a large assortment of chips, popcorn, candy wrappers and soda cans.
Myles was going through his fifth round of slowly counting to ten when Sam finally looked up. "Dude, you're home!"
Taking a final breath, Myles risked speaking. "Yes, I'm home. Mind telling me when the tornado hit?"
"Tornado?" Sam paused the game, and looked around the room, blinking at the mess. Glorfindel meowed pitifully, and jumped off of his perch to scratch at an empty chip-bag. "Oh, this. 'Fin and I just had dinner."
"Dinner?" Myles' voice went up an octave. "The place looks like Glorfindel was running laps through the kitchen cupboards!"
Sam looked suddenly suspicious. "Do you have cameras in this place? How did you know that?"
Myles gritted his teeth. "I don't suppose your cat is as talented at cleaning it up?"
"Well, no. But we're working on that. He already knows how to use a spoon. Pretty cool, huh?" Sam grabbed Glorfindel by the tail, pulled the kitten towards him, and swung it back up onto his shoulder. "Huh, 'Fin? Wanna show Uncle Myles how you can eat cereal?"
"You're changing the subject!" Myles snapped, waving his hand around to display the mess.
"Woah, bro. You asked 'bout the cat. I'm just answering the questions. Chill." Sam raised an eyebrow, shook his head and clucked to Glorfindel. "Bro's a bit tight, don'tcha think? Bipolar, maybe." In a swift motion, he had the controller in his hands again, and was concentrating on the TV screen intently.
Myles took a very deep breath, trying to keep from wrapping his hands around Sam's throat. It took about two seconds to realize he was losing the battle. Time to leave before I end up having to arrest myself for murder, he thought.
"Excuse me for just a second," he said, attempting to sound civil. "I just remembered a phone call I have to make."
"Eh, no prob. Can I use the phone when you're done? I have to call Gregory- I forgot." Sam called after him without pulling his eyes from the game. "And can you get Glorfindel a bowl of root beer?"
Myles left the room before more than root beer hit the ceiling. He spent the rest of the evening, after cleaning the kitchen, pounding the living daylights out of a full-length punching bag in his small gym area.
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