A/N: Hey, Lane here (noobloser on the Dollhouse Wiki), and I'm back! I've been fallow in terms of Dollhouse ideas for a while, so when I saw the end of "Omega", specifically that ending scene with Claire (sorry, Whiskey) and Topher (who else thinks that there's so many implications of a relationship there?), a wonderful idea popped into my head. I also decided that I would write it all in present tense. Now, that may not seem like a big thing, but coming from someone who mainly writes in the past tense, yeah, it's a big deal. And I never thought it'd be this hard! Three days to make sure ideas, tenses, and plot flow makes sense. Originally conceived (and still is) as a ClairexTopher piece, it grew to include PaulxMadeline/November/Mellie. You'll see why soon enough.
Any TDI/A fans out there reading this, I'm sorry I haven't been updating GftD! I heard the episodes were taking another six week break, so I'll use that time to catch up. I'll see what I can do in terms of getting the episodes though...so no promises on how far I'll be able to get. Help is greatly appreciated, and sorry--again! Oh, and an update for Lab Rat should come soon; I need to sort out a few ideas I have bouncing around in the ol' noggin.
Word of advice: the "Moonlight Sonata" movements one and three heavily inspired my fanfic, mostly movement one. So listen to the two while reading. In my opinion, the show could've squeezed in "Moonlight Sonata" Movement one in there at the end somehow. Not to say, the ending song wasn't all that bad either.
Disclaimer: I hereby claim no ownership of the premise or characters of Dollhouse. Those are in the ownership of FOX and Joss Whedon.
Echo is going up the elevator in the parking lot, up to the Dollhouse, to the Imprint chair to wipe away the past day's memories, of San Pedro Industrial Road 7-18, of Alpha, of Caroline Farrell.
Topher Brink has to be in the Imprint room, right by that chair, greeting Echo with a complacent smile, but tonight is different. He is earlier than usual, probably due to the day's events, but he is not his normal laid-back cocky genius self. However, he finds someone already in his office, down the small flight of stairs, staring out over the rest of the Dollhouse, watching the Actives through the tall windows.
"Doctor Saunders?" He asks, nervousness creeping into his voice.
"I think you gave me more computer skills than would be required by a medical doctor." She answers, in an almost trained tone, not even turning around to look at him, to watch his expression fall even farther. His eyes shift to his computer, and on the screen, there are the words "Document Search" and "Administrator Access Only" at the top of a window. On the right side, there are five descriptions. The first is the description "00293 Folders", under that "09857 Folders", and under that, in a dark tinge, "00547 Folders", and in an even darker tinge, "01097 Folders". The final string is blacked out. There are three folder icons in the center of the window, and there is a picture of a young woman, an Active, Whiskey. This, as he knows too well, is Doctor Claire Saunders. His thought train is interrupted by her while he's staring at the picture of Whiskey.
"It was very easy for me to hack your system." Now he looks away from the screen, almost ashamed. Oh fuck. He closes his eyes and mouths a curse under his breath before opening his eyes again, looking at her. She's turning now, and holds eye contact with him for a few milliseconds before looking off to the side, and then she starts taking steps towards the stairs. "I'm curious."
"About?" He's nervous. What could she be curious about besides her past, a past that she didn't bother looking up, since the three folders dedicated to that were unopened?
"Well, I guess I understand why they wouldn't want to waste an investment." She's now walking up the stairs, and he averts his eyes. Normally, the comment wouldn't—couldn't—shouldn't—hurt his ego at all, but after today's events, the panic from Alpha rearing his head again, everything seems to feel like a punch to the stomach—or a Taser to the chest.
"And I suppose why hire a new physician when you can just…Imprint the broken Doll." That comment hurts too, but he looks up, and now she's across from him, still by the railing, but across from him face-to-face. He looks down again, and looks back up, half expecting her to chide him for not facing her, hiding from the confrontation.
What he gets is an entirely different response. "But why did you decide it was so important for me to hate you?" The way she says it, her facial expression, unnerves him because it is blank, like an Active's, who she really is…an Active. He wants to give an answer to her question, but it doesn't come. Not even a squeak of fear comes to his aide. If he has more time...but that's what he doesn't have—time.
He doesn't get the chance to respond because she cocks her head to the side and starts talking again, inputting her own thoughts on her own question. "I think that's strange." He thinks she's going to say more, she has more on her mind, but she heads for the door.
He looks at his computer screen, then to her retreating form, and finally works up a sentence, a way to stop her. "You didn't open it." He weakly points in the direction of his computer, and he sounds panicked, voice slightly strained, hoping she'll stop. Why didn't she open it?
"No." She curtly—and roughly—responds, again not turning around to face him. At least it got her to stop. But she won't remain still long, he knew. He has to fire another question at her before it's too late, before she would make herself—and in turn, him—pretend their conversation never took place.
"Aren't you curious to see who you really are?" He's successful, and she turns her head to him and keeps a steady gaze for a few seconds.
"I know who I am." His breath catches in his throat as she turns her head back and starts to walk away. It was not the answer he expected, not at all. He realizes he's been holding his breath, and it comes out as a huff from his nose. He tries to whisper to himself, a simple reassurance that he understood what she said, but nothing comes out.
In the parking lot, Boyd Langton and Paul Ballard sigh. It's been a long day for both of them, and they're alone in the parking lot. They've been waiting for the past few minutes for the elevator to come down to take them up to Adelle DeWitt. Their thought trains are gone as the elevator pings and opens up for them. Boyd walks into the elevator and turns around to face Paul; he's still standing in the same spot, staring at him…or was it the open elevator?
"Let's go." Boyd commands gently, and Paul holds his head up and walks into the elevator and stands next to Boyd. The elevator doors close; they're both whisked away to the top floor and to Adelle.
He, Topher, had Deactivated November, now Madeline Costley. Orders from the top, and there's no way to argue with them. That, coupled with his talk with Claire—Whiskey—that had only taken place a few minutes ago had started to take its toll; his face started to show signs of exhaustion, but mostly guilt and sadness when Echo entered the room and sat on the chair.
Now Echo has been Wiped, and the chair is coming back into its original position. She has the same, blank look on her face, as always. He turns around from the machines to greet her, but he doesn't bother putting a smile on his face; he's too tired to do so.
"Did I fall asleep?" She seems normal.
"For a little while." He's surprised he can manage to keep a steady tone; he was facing the Active that had caused quite a bit of trouble for the past day—not counting the ever elusive Alpha.
"Shall I go now?" Her eyebrows rose in question, and her eyes are searching for an answer written on his face.
"If you like." He nods, and turns back to the machine to power it down. She gets up, satisfied with his answer, but something changes within her. She is not as satisfied as she should be, and she stops and slowly turns around and looks at him. He is sad. She walks to his side, and touches his shoulder. He turns around and sees Echo and attempts to ask her what's wrong, but nothing comes out. He takes a step forward, and her hand softly touches his chest. She finds words unnecessary, and she furrows her eyebrows before looking up at him. He is unwell there. He looks down at her hand, somewhat puzzled and frightened by the gentle touch, then looks at her face to see if she will say anything, but she merely smiles, takes her hand off his chest, and starts to walk away. He watches her walk out of the room, a little frightened by what she had just done…and he almost forgets to breathe.
A/N: You made it through in one piece? Okay! I think I got most of the tenses right, but still, any criticism is highly appreciated. And if you thought this was over...haha, you'd be wrong. There's another chapter COMING UP! So review on this one while you still can!