Itis mostly due to dragon89 that I'm updating this story, and quite possibly to kjghjh also (the statement 'No Update' was rather confusing). Thanks to you. I'm happy if only one or two other people read each of my stories because I write what I want to read but just cannot find.

Little Luke didn't sleep very much. I guess he inherited my shark DNA. He of course slept more than me, as all children do more than their parents, but still the longest he slept was only around six hours. Every night, from midnight to six in the morning, like clockwork.

I spent the two days in that hotel between Luke's waking up and 511's in an odd sort of routine. I checked on 511's wounds, and watched him sleep. Then when Luke would wake we would head to Mace's room to wake him up for breakfast.

Of course I'd let Luke wake Mace up by launching himself at my brother and being caught mid-air just before he could land on Mace's broad chest. Luke would always giggle and Mace would let out an uncharacteristic laugh until he remembered that I was there. Then he'd set down the little boy and grab me to tickle me.

I guess the fact that Mace and I were always out on 'assignment' explained why he didn't act like 'compound transgenics.' We only acted like the transgenics who'd had their childhoods beaten out of them, when we were hauled in once a year to give progress reports to the Director. I guess the lightened security when we were on the road gave us more autonomy and let us be ourselves more often.

After we'd have breakfast, whatever Mace had gotten for us the night before and we'd just relax for a few moments. Every second we could relax was worth its weight in gold, always has been. Then we'd clean up, I take Luke back to our room to give him a bath, leaving Mace to grab a shower of his own.

Then, when Luke was squeaky clean, he'd run back off to Mace's room next door so I could get a shower myself. The rest of the day I'd spend time between the two rooms, taking care of and watching Luke and then taking care of and watching 511. Needless to say, between a three-year-old and an unconscious man, I wasn't getting any sleep.

The third day we were in that dinky little hotel, I fell asleep. Days of no sleep and no appetite had exhausted me to the point that I passed out while sitting in a chair right next to 511's bed. One moment I was watching him sleep and the next...

I woke with my head on the rock-hard stomach of 511. I opened my eyes to find myself staring into the eerily familiar pair of bright blue eyes. I smiled at him before I was completely awake. Then, when I realized where I was and what I was doing, I bolted up, blushing like mad. He just stared at me, making me nervous.

"Morning sleepy head." I said with a smile, unable to resist.

He started to sit up. "How long have I been out?" He asked me. He seemed to be having a little trouble getting into a regular sitting position, so I helped him up.

"Three days 511." He was so surprised that I blushed again. Once again I curse my lack of X5 verbal smoothness. "I read your barcode, sorry."

"I'm surprised you're not running and screaming." And with those odd words, he searched my face for a response. And I realized that he thought I was an ordinary!

I smiled at the idea, in actuality it was all I could do not to laugh out loud. "Because you're a transgenic?" I asked slowly. When he nodded I began to laugh; I just couldn't help it. He flinched and looked confused. "511, so you're just pretty on the outside but nothing inside your empty little head but fluff?" I asked him, stifling my laughter. He continued to stare at me blankly. "I'm a transgenic too, dummy."

His face turned bright red. "Oh." He replied, grinning sheepishly at me. "My name's Biggs by the way. What's yours?"

"Charlie." I smiled again. "My name is Charlie."

It was a little while later, after I'd given 511 a bowl of the instant oatmeal Mace had lifted from a nearby store, that we got to talk more. It seemed perfectly peaceful and friendly, I never would've figured that we'd get onto such a dark and painful subject.

"What base were you at?" He asked me between spoonfuls of the warm mush. His arm was so injured I had to feed him myself, but I didn't really mind tending to such a gorgeous male. He kept his eyes on mine the entire time, strangely enough.

"I wasn't on any base." I told him as I gave him another spoonful. He swallowed the oatmeal obediently, then looked at me expectantly. I pushed back a strand of hair that was threatening to stick to my bottom lip, his eyes followed my movement. "I was on a special detail." I looked away nervously, not wanting to look him in the eye. Then I smoothed out the edge of the faded blue blanket he was under, wanting to get off the subject.

He reached over to me and placed his fingers under my chin. I looked up at him. "Charlie." He said quietly, soothingly. "What's wrong?"

"I..." I choked as my eyes filled with tears. I was so afraid of how he'd react to my next statement. "My designation is P-622." I whispered. "I'm...psy-ops."

He just sat there, obviously shocked into silence. I watched him fearfully, silently begging him to say something, anything. When he didn't murmur a single word, I dropped the bowl and spoon I was holding onto the table and fled the room as ifa pack of rapidwolverines were after me. And I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks at the latest in a long line of rejections from any social interaction with X5s.

As always, please review. You've gotten this far, why not take it five seconds further?

-transgenic-girl