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The Bourne Identity

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Summary: Memory loss twice over, can do strange things to your future. Or so Xander finds out. Slash, het and a Threesome Warning

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Multiple Crossings > Xander-Centered > Theme: HalloweenaewnaurFR1879,19823521,0854 Oct 0515 Jan 06No

The Bourne Identity

Title: The Bourne Identity
Authors: Aewnaur@yahoo.com & Arichanda@sbcglobal.net
Summary: Memory loss changes things, as Xander soon finds out.
Warnings: SLASH! this story will contain at some point slash, het and a threesome.
Rating: FRMAO (R and Up)
Feedback: desired.
Disclaimer: We own nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch.

*****
Prologue

Darien delivered two quick blows to the larger man knocking him unconscious. He lowered him beside his partner silent and quick. He had no idea why the men had attacked him but he had no intention of hanging around to find out. He couldn’t remember anything before last night but he figured he wasn’t stupid. He needed to get anyway from the men with guns, who’d been following him ever since he could remember. There was something strange about this town. At this point his best bet was to clear out, find somewhere safe to regroup, most importantly figure out what the hell was going on.

When the call for bus 1353 to Los Angeles came over the loudspeaker, he tossed a few sheets of newspaper over the trussed up bodies. Taking a step back he decided they looked like any homeless person, and with that he slipped out of the alley. Head down, he made for the bus. He hadn’t bothered to take their weapons; odd taser like guns, too bulky to be hidden. Besides he didn’t know how to use them anyway, and now wasn’t the time to learn. Making his way down the bus aisle he glanced out the window and frowned. Two men were heading toward the alley he’d left the others in. Seems like there was more to his amnesia than just a bump on the head.

Settling into a seat near the center of the bus as it pulled away from the station. Wary, and a bit on edge Darien waited until they’d gotten several miles away from the crappy depot before pulling out his duffle and opening it. He hadn’t really had a chance to go through it. He’d just grabbed it from the bus station locker. Knowing the men following him were possibly close by, he’d only taken the time to change into the clothes that were inside and take a quick look at the wallet inside. He pulled it out; slipping his driver’s license out, he studied it. He didn’t really feel like a Darien Lambert but that’s what the Washington D.C id said. So, what was he doing in California? And what did those spooks following him have to do with it?

Dropping the license he dug through the bag, shifting things around as he searched for any clue that would tell him about who and what Darien Lambert was. Mind noting the various denominations, and currencies he found; there had to be over a half million American dollars in here. After sitting stunned at the amount of cash, he continued digging. He could feel something at the very bottom. Darien could tell it wasn’t more money. Shuffling everything to one side, he grasped the billfolds and tugged. Passports. Why would he need more than one passport? He opened the first, ‘Darien Lambert. Washington D.C. United States.’

Then the next, ‘James Bond. London. England.’ Darien frowned, flipping through the passports faster, and faster. ‘James Howlett. Montreal. Canada.’

‘Jason Bourne. New York. United States.’ ‘Lucien LaCroix. Paris. France.’ ‘John Sheridan. Berlin. Germany.’ ‘Michael Knight. Tijuana. Mexico.’ ‘Nikolai Ivanova. Moscow. Soviet Union.’

‘Alexander Harris. California. United States.’ ‘Martin Riggs. Sydney. Australia.’ ’Aragorn Dunadan. Wellington. New Zealand.’ ‘Remy LeBeau. New Orleans. United States.’ ‘Wah Sing Ku. Beijing. China.’

My God! Who the fuck am I?

He pulled the wallet back out. Maybe there was something more inside that would clear this up. Tucked into the wallet were two more driver’s licenses; Alexander Harris of Sunnydale, California. Jason Bourne of NYC, New York. He stared at the ids. Which one felt more familiar? Which one was really him? Slowly he started stuffing everything back into the bag, until he came down to the last two passports. Jason Bourne. Alexander Harris.

These two, there was something about these two names. Who was he? Which one did he feel like? He couldn’t see himself as an Alexander, anymore than as a Darien. Finally he stuck the other back in the bag. For now, he was Jason Bourne.

tbc...
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