Chapter 3: Mind Games

"Sam, I'm trying to read." Myles looked over the edge of his worn copy of Goethe's Faust, and sent a silent prayer for silence heavenward. Even here in the library/office, he could hear the sound effects and music from the video game Sam was playing.

"Hold on...I'm saving up to buy a cow."

"What?" Myles set his book down on the nearby end table and strode into the living room.

"I'm saving up to buy a cow." Sam repeated, not taking his eyes off the screen. "You play this little dude and run a farm– plant stuff, and buy animals, and marry a village girl..."

"And you actually play this?"

"Duh. It's only the best game besides MarioKart."

"Can you at least turn the volume down?" Myles pleaded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I like the music. Besides, if I turn it down, I won't know when the pigs are hungry."

"Then turn it off. Please, just give me half an hour, at least." Myles walked towards the TV, reaching for the power button, and Sam grabbed at him as he passed.

"Let me save! Let me save it first! Glorfindel, attack!" The cat did no such thing– the little kitten just sat and meowed in its strange, hesitant way at the two of them, then scampered under the couch.

Myles paused, while Sam furiously tapped buttons on the controller, and then sighed in relief. "There. Now you can turn it off."

"Thank you." Myles turned the TV off, and reveled in the ensuing silence. Behind him, Sam stood and stretched, and wandered off towards the kitchen.

"Don't wreck anything!" Myles warned him, returning to where he had left his book. Still smiling at his victory, he settled back in his chair and found the place where he'd left off. The words soon flowed into a vibrant and resounding symphony in his head, reminding him how much he truly loved older literature.

He was reaching a rather tense verse in the narrative when the floor shook beneath him. At the same time, a raging storm of sound hit. Myles dropped the book, threw his hands over his ears, and stumbled out of the room and down the hall.

The deafening noise was coming from the guest room; he threw open the door, and was met by even louder music. Sam was jumping up and down on the bed, eyes closed, playing air guitar, and Myles shouted at him.

The effort was in vain; Sam didn't even open his eyes, or look up. Hands still clutched tightly over his ears, Myles stumbled to the stereo, and hit the power button. The sound ceased, and Sam's head snapped up to see what had stopped his music.

Looking up, however, was a mistake. His feet left the bed at the same moment, and his head collided with the ceiling. There was a dull crack, and Sam fell, landing on the bed haphazardly, one foot hitting the alarm clock on the bedside table with a crunch.

Myles stood in the sudden silence, his ears still ringing, and looked at the suddenly motionless form of Sam on the bed.

"Sam?"

There was no response. He rushed to the bedside, and shook Sam by the shoulders. His twin moaned, and shifted on the bed. A split-second later, his eyes slid open, and he blinked up at Myles.

"What happened?"

"You hit your head on the ceiling." Myles replied with a forced patience, glancing up at the ugly dent on the brushed white ceiling. He would most certainly be mad later, he knew that; but for now, he was too relieved to yell.

"Ow...that hurt..." Sam sat up, rubbing the top of his head, and making pained faces. "You shouldn't have turned the music off without telling me."

"Without telling you? You couldn't hear me! I tried to tell you!" Myles retorted, keeping a hand on Sam's shoulder, and studying Sam's eyes for signs of a concussion. "Don't get up. I'm going to get some ice."

Sam nodded, wincing at the same time, and dropped his head into his hands.

In the kitchen, Myles grabbed the phone, and dialed a number, cradling it between his ear and shoulder as he dropped pieces of ice into a plastic baggie.

"Hello?"

Myles almost kissed the phone receiver as he heard Elizabeth Dillingham's voice. "Tell me you're free tonight. Please!"

"Myles? Is that you?"

"Yes. Please, please say you're free."

She laughed. "Not for the whole evening, but I can spare time for dinner. What's up?"

He breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I'll take dinner, and I'll explain when I see you, okay? You just saved my psychological well-being, for the moment at least. And possibly a life."

Elizabeth paused. "Oka-aay. Why don't I drive tonight? I'll pick you up in ten minutes."

"I love you forever!" He hung up, and tossed the phone onto the counter, heading for the guest room once again.

Myles found Sam in the same hunched-over position when he returned with the bag of ice and a towel to wrap around it. He put the makeshift ice pack on top of Sam's head, and instructed him to hold it there.

While Sam nursed his aching head, Myles studied the ceiling and the bedside table. The ceiling would definitely need professional work, and the table was fine. But the alarm clock was as good as gone— it sat in shambles. He carefully unplugged the device, and let it sit before trying to toss it in the trash.

"You're lucky that thing didn't shock you." He commented, squatting down next to the bed and checking Sam's eyes again. "I don't think you have a concussion, but you should probably take it easy for a while."

"Video games?" Sam asked hopefully, pulling the ice-pack off of his head, and tossing it behind him on the bed.

"Fine..." Myles sighed in exasperation as Sam cheered and rushed past him out the guest room door. The game music started up again, and Myles bit back a growl. He walked across the hall to his own room to change, pulling the door closed behind him.

Ten minutes later, he heard a car pull into the driveway. He headed for the door. "I'm going out."

Sam turned around from his game. "Can I come?"

"On a date."

There was a pause. "Can I come?"

"No!" The door slammed as he left. Sam looked shocked, and not a little hurt, for a minute. Then he smiled slyly, went to the window, and watched the car pull away before he headed for his own.

-!-

-!-

"So, want to tell me why you had to get out of the house this time?" Elizabeth twirled her wineglass as she looked at him.

"I didn't have to get out of the house," he defended amiably. "I wanted to see you. It's been a week. I missed you."

She gave him a gently reprimanding look, accompanied by a soft smile. "Love, you couldn't lie to me if your life depended on it. Let's have it."

Myles grimaced, and started rubbing his temples with his fingertips. "All right. You're going to find out soon enough anyway, but I suppose I should give you some fair warning. You see, my brother, Sam, is in town—"

"Myles! Myles! I DID it! I bought a cow and married a village girl!" Elizabeth did a classic double take as Sam bounded up to the table. He grinned broadly as he gave her a once-over with his eyes. "This your girlfriend?"

Myles sighed, his voice heavy with exasperation. "Yes."

The grin disappeared, and Sam looked utterly crestfallen. "But...what about me?"

The agent looked up. "What do you mean, what about you?"

"Traitor. I bet she already eats the grapes out of your fruit cups, too." He glowered at her.

Elizabeth had been quietly studying the new arrival, a smile playing across her lips. Now she raised a brow at Sam. "Well, he's offered, but I always felt there was a reason I should decline. Now I know why."

It was Myles who did a double take this time, and she glanced over at him, her green eyes twinkling. He blinked once, then sat back, amazed. How does she do this? But he knew the answer— Elizabeth jumped right into a scenario until she learned the rules, which probably was one thing that made her so good a psychologist.

Time to sit back and watch the show, he thought, suddenly more relaxed than he'd been in the past thirty-six hours. A grin was trying very hard not to work its way onto his face. This should be fun.

Sam studied Elizabeth carefully for a moment, then pulled a chair over to the table for two and plunked down in it. "I suppose I could be willing to share him...but it's going to cost you."

She leaned forward on her elbows, her hands folded and her chin resting on them. Her expression was completely serious. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

Sam looked around the restaurant, as if he feared that he would be overheard, then cast a glance at Myles before leaning forward and motioning for her to do the same. She complied, and he whispered, "Got any gum?"

Myles was watching her with a practiced nonchalance, but she could see the laughter in his eyes. Elizabeth winked at him, picked up her purse and opened it. "All I have is sugarless, I afraid."

Sam's face fell, and he looked thoughtful for a moment, before answering, "Okay, fine. But I'll need two sticks."

She considered that for a moment, leaning back in the chair now, her elbows now on the chair arms and her fingers steepled in front of her. "Tell you what. You give me two uninterrupted hours with your twin tonight, and you can have the whole pack." She waved it in the air.

Myles was almost shaking from trying to keep a straight face.

"Really?" Sam's familiar, foreign eyes lit up, and he snatched the pack of gum. "You totally rock, girlfriend of bro."

Now she smiled at him. "Why thank you, Sam. I take that as a very high compliment. By the way, I'm Elizabeth."

"Lizzie. Got it." Sam nodded, and stood up, pocketing the gum.

She frowned slightly. "Hmm... Never got used to that one. How about Liz?"

Sam shrugged. "That works." He then turned to Myles and patted him fondly on the head, as if his brother were a puppy. "Behave yourself." With an admonishing look at Elizabeth, he added solemnly, "Two hours, Liz. No more or you'll owe me. And don't bring him back early expecting a refund."

"I wouldn't dream of it." As Sam walked off, whistling, Elizabeth turned to Myles, who was shaking his head at her and grinning. "What?"

"You do know he was completely in earnest, don't you?"

Elizabeth laughed. "Of course. I have a seminar early tomorrow morning, so that's about all the time I have tonight anyway. If I didn't, do you really think I would have given up my entire gum supply for just two hours with you?"

"I certainly hope not." Then his grin faded. "Well, since the something I was going to tell you about just sold me for a pack of sugarless... I suppose you'd like an explanation?"

She leaned forward again, her expression growing a little more serious – just a little. "He's your twin brother, and he drives you up the wall. That much I got. The rest...well, I could make a few assumptions, but I think you'd feel better if I let you explain."

Myles toyed with his cloth napkin, and then spoke. "Well, details aside, Sam and I...don't see each other much at all. He just shows up once in a while, and then disappears again. I was going to tell you earlier, but things kept happening, and I kept forgetting...I know it sounds awful, forgetting my own brother...but...Sam is, well...Sam...and..."

She reached over and took his hand. "I have siblings, too, Myles. And I don't always get along with them. I know you pretty well— and it's hard sometimes to relate to a sibling who's so different from you— even if he does look just like you." She smiled again. "Well, almost."

He chuckled, and flashed her a grin. "Usually the only way to tell that he isn't me is the noise; we're a pretty close match when it comes to looks."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Dearest, rest assured that there's one person in your life who will never mistake the two of you for each other." Her eyes twinkled at him again. "As for the noise - I think it's merely a different station."

"Hey!"

She laughed. "Now, we've only got an hour and forty-five minutes. Let's not waste them."

-!-

-!-

It was 10:15 when they walked up to the house. Sam was at the door, waiting. He looked at his watch pointedly; then sighed and shook his head. "Fifteen minutes late. Pay up."

"Already planned for it." She handed him a second pack, smiling. "Interest, for not keeping our deal, plus five minutes to say 'good night'?"

"Five minutes?" Sam looked unsure, and then nodded. "Fine." He leaned forward to take the gum, and whispered loudly in her ear, "You know, I'm getting the vague feeling you're dating the wrong brother."

Elizabeth didn't miss a beat. "Nope. Sorry. You were late. Your twin already swept me off my feet. You'll just have to keep looking."

Sam snapped his fingers, and gave his brother a light smack upside the head. "How come you have all the luck?"

For once, Myles was ready for him without really being annoyed. "Because I look at something besides that Nintendo once in awhile. Now, shoo." He pushed Sam back through the front door, his tone mock-warning. "Five minutes. And don't spy on us." Sam frowned at him and pushed the door closed.

Elizabeth was laughing softly. "I'm impressed. You actually gave as good as you got, without killing him."

Myles rolled his eyes. "It was a lot easier to take when we were seventeen. Sometimes I think he's still back there."

"And sometimes it'll be easier on your nerves if you just go back with him." She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. "I have to go, love."

"Hey, what happened to five minutes?" He pushed his face into an exaggerated pout.

She laughed and gave him a you've-got-to-be-joking look. 'Do you really think he's going to last five minutes without coming back out here?"

He sighed. "Not really."

"I'm free tomorrow night. Why don't you find him a date, and we'll all go do something together. That way, he doesn't feel left out, and you won't be his only target."

Myles smiled and kissed her again. "I knew there was a reason I loved you. Good night."