Unease trickles down Delphine's spine the moment she opens the door to her DYAD penthouse suite and switches on the recessed lighting. Setting her bag down near the door and shrugging out of her black leather jacket, her wary eyes dart around the open, sparsely furnished space. Everything looks as pristine as it had been when she left for work that morning. But her growing paranoia convinces her that something about the room feels off. Colder perhaps. More dangerous. The fine hairs along her bare arms stand at attention. And after the conversation she just had with Ferdinand and all its sinister passive aggressiveness, Delphine knows, irrational or not, that it would be foolish to ignore her gut instinct.
With a few quick strides, heart rate speeding up, she reaches a trapezoid-shaped end table in the lounge, slides open a drawer, and pulls out a beretta. At Marion's insistence, Delphine had learned to shoot in Zurich. For self-defense, Marion had said. But despite that training, Delphine's still not 100 percent comfortable with firearms. The semi-automatic pistol fits awkwardly in her clammy hand-a hand once trained to heal, to do no harm; a hand that's no longer a stranger to inflicting pain. She shoves those thoughts away and instead focuses on making sure the gun's clip is fully loaded, racking the slide, and flicking off the safety. Weapon at the ready, she draws a steadying breath and begins to search the entire unit. She checks the balcony, the closets, the laundry nook, the pantry, the office, the second bedroom, the guest bathroom, dispelling the menace of the shadows with each flick of a light switch and sweep of the gun. Finally, she reaches her master bedroom and ensuite.
All clear.
Delphine's lungs burn from the breath she's holding and she releases it in a sharp exhale as relief courses through her, making her feel faint. It had been nothing. No danger. For now. But she understands that perhaps one day soon, she won't be so lucky. But until then… she releases another shuddered breath and digs the heel of her free hand between her eyebrows, willing the pounding in her temples to subside. She walks to the kitchen, boot heels clacking loudly on the hardwood floor, and lays the gun on the polished gray marble of the countertop.
She eyes the racks of wine inside a built-in cooler, but ultimately bypasses them in need of something stronger. Reaching up to open a cabinet, Delphine pulls down a bottle of Glenlivet and a glass of Glencairn crystal. She'd never really liked scotch before, but it had become a taste she had acquired over the last few weeks with Topside. She fills the glass halfway, much more than necessary, and brings it to her lips. The liquor smells strong, but fragrant, and she takes a sip, savoring the sweetly complex sting that slides across her tongue and down her throat.
In need of relaxation, she dims the lights and retires to the living room and approaches a shelf bare of everything but an iPod connected to a compact sound system. She turns it on and Edith Piaf's rich, smoky voice singing La Vie en Rose fills the air. Delphine takes a few steps to a chaise lounger and stretches out onto smooth black leather. She closes her eyes and tries to empty her mind of everything-Leda, Castor, Ferdinand… Shay… Cosima. All the players. They all revolve around each other in dangerous orbits, narrowly missing each other. But she's convinced that one day, they'd all be on a collision course. Mutually assured destruction. She draws the scotch into her mouth again, allowing it to dull the squeezing in her chest as the music continues to drift around her.
The trill of a phone rouses Delphine and she blinks groggily at the ceiling. With a soft groan, she forces herself to sit up, careful not to knock over the empty scotch glass by her feet. When she stands, the room sways a bit and she shakes her head to clear it of fatigue and the alcohol's lingering aftereffects. Music is still playing and she turns down the volume before walking to the landline near the front door.
She notes the time on the screen. It's just past midnight. She brings the phone to her ear.
"Allo?" Her brows knit together as the building's front desk security guard informs her that she has a visitor. "Who?" All her muscles tense, almost painfully, when she hears the answer. She sighs, not in the mood to deal with that particular visitor, but...
"Send her up," she says anyway, too weak to say no and turn her away.
Hanging up, Delphine walks to the kitchen sink and turns on the faucet, cupping her hands under the cool water and splashing her face in the hopes it'll help make her more lucid. By the time she's dried off with a paper towel, Delphine hears a soft rap against the front door.
She moves to the door and pauses, hand stilling on the knob as a wave of vertigo hits her. Closing her eyes, she rests her forehead on the cold door and breathes in deeply, carefully reconstructing the protective mask she has worn ever since she had returned to Toronto.
"Delphine?" An achingly familiar voice calls from the other side. "Are you there?"
Pulling herself together, Delphine opens her eyes, takes a step back, and swings the door open to reveal Cosima in her usual red coat, a patterned scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. She stands timidly, expression guarded and yet conflicted behind her cat-eye frames, as if she herself isn't sure why she's there.
"How did you get this address?" Delphine asks curtly, proud of how she manages to keep her voice neutral. No nonsense. All business. A timbre befitting a Topside executive.
Cosima shifts her weight from one foot to another. "The… DYAD directory?"
"There is no DYAD directory." Delphine crosses her arms.
"There is when your friends are computer geeks," Cosima half shrugs with a wry smile that Delphine refuses to be charmed by. She makes a mental note to talk to the IT department to strengthen the institute's cyber security.
"Can I…" Cosima's eyes flicker past Delphine's shoulder. "Can we talk?"
"Cosima," Delphine sighs through her nose and runs a hand through her hair. "It's late. Whatever you have to say can wait until morning. Call my cell or make an appointment-"
"It's about the originals," Cosima says quietly and Delphine freezes.
"Originals," Delphine repeats, emphasizing the s. "As in…"
"As in plural. Do I have your attention now?" Even though Cosima's tone remains even, there's a touch of disappointment in it, manifested by the way her nostrils flare subtlely.
Letting out a deep breath, Delphine steps back, pulling the door open wider to grant Cosima access. As she brushes past, Delphine catches a whiff of smoke, pungent and sweet. A reprimand forms on her tongue, but she bites her cheek and remains silent, knowing her concern would be swiftly rebuffed. Cosima waits for her to close the door, and Delphine leads them into the lounge.
"Have a seat," she invites, but Cosima shakes her head.
"I'm cool with standing, thanks."
Delphine picks up her empty glass from the floor and proceeds to the kitchen. "Something to drink?"
"No, I'm good." Cosima lifts one eyebrow when Delphine refills it with more scotch, but doesn't comment on it. Instead, her curious gaze wanders around the suite, eyes pausing briefly on the still-operating sound system before continuing to take in the hard, clean design of the room and its impersonal decorations. The space is the exact opposite of the home in which Delphine had spent the better part of her afternoon. Shay's apartment had been warm and inviting and lived-in, the scent of herbs and spice permeating the air. And Delphine wonders if Cosima is comparing the two. Jealousy rises in the back of her throat, bitter and sharp, and she washes it down with a long pull of scotch.
Delphine settles on the couch, cradling her drink, while Cosima approaches the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the speckled lights of downtown and the crimson luminescence of the CN Tower against the black velvet horizon.
"Sarah found the Castor original." Cosima's reflection stares at her through the glass. "And Leda's."
Delphine's heart jolts at the news and its implications, for the project… for Cosima… for herself. But she keeps her cool, shows no emotion, poker face firmly in place. "Who are they?"
"Well," Cosima turns around, upper torso canted to the side. "it's less of a they and more of a she."
"She?" Delphine scrunches her brow, mind whirring from the revelation. "That's not… " Her eyes widen. "Do you mean to say... the original is, what, a chimera?"
"How's that for crazy science?" The corners of Cosima's lips curl up and Delphine can't help but smile in return.
She feels it then-the thrill of discovery and the unknown, the insatiable need to study a scientific mystery and solve it. Although she's sure the excitement and curiosity in Cosima's eyes are mirrored in her own, a sobering thought nevertheless hits Delphine. "Why are you telling me this?"
Cosima lets out a deep breath into the space between them, face falling almost imperceptibly, shoulders slumping slightly. "Because… I'm tired of keeping secrets," she says softly taking a step forward. "Aren't you?"
She looks so small against the backdrop of the cityscape, frail, so unlike the vivacious Ph.D student Delphine had first met in the brightly lit hallways of the University of Minnesota. Delphine has to look away.
"Where is she now?" Delphine asks instead of answering Cosima's question, focusing on swirling the scotch in her glass.
"On her way back here. With Sarah."
Head swimming, Delphine closes her eyes, a cold fear clawing at her chest.
"What's wrong?" Cosima asks, concern lacing her voice, and Delphine feels the tempting pull of concealment, the desire to keep Cosima in the dark for her own safety. But hadn't that been their problem all along? Could they have avoided their current predicament if they had avoided obfuscation and had trust one another with the truth? And now with time running out…
"Ferdinand," Delphine reveals, their gazes meeting once again. "He somehow discovered that Sarah was in London."
"Ferdinand? You mean that creepy ass cleaner guy that Sarah almost choked to death?"
"Yes." Delphine nods once. "He's coming to DYAD."
"When?"
"Within the next 24 hours, I'm sure."
Mouth hanging open, Cosima slowly sinks on to a recliner by the window. "If he knows about Sarah then…"
"Then he knows we've been keeping secrets from Topside." Delphine sets her drink on top of a glass coffee table. "Which means-"
"We're not safe," Cosima finishes, the muscles in her throat visibly constricting.
Delphine shakes her head. "Nothing will happen to you." Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, but she infuses it with all of her conviction. "Any of you. Not if I can help it."
Cosima regards her with a stare so intense it feels like it's piercing her heart, and Delphine rises to her feet in one fluid motion to place more distance between them. She walks back to the shelf and turns up the volume on the sound system, in desperate need for something to fill the void between them. The soft strumming of an acoustic guitar streams between them.
"This is all my fault," Cosima says behind her, regret weighing down her words. "If I hadn't…"
"It's everyone's fault." Delphine turns back around to find Cosima perched on the edge of the seat cushion. "We've all played a role in reaching this point. Perhaps we've all been destined to end up here, eventually."
"You can't possibly believe that."
Delphine shrugs, trying to tamp down on the despair refluxing in her chest like acid. "Does it really matter? We're… in this bullshit together, as you said. For better or worse."
Cosima buries her face in her hands, fingers lifting up her frames onto her forehead and back down. "What about the original genomes?" She asks. "We can use them as leverage."
"Yes." Delphine smiles wistfully. In some strange way, she feels almost proud of Cosima. How quickly they've all had to learn to play the game. "You can."
"We can use them for you too."
"No." Delphine shakes her head. "Even if Topside agreed to leave you and your sisters in peace, there would be no deterring Ferdinand." She recalls the thinly veiled threat in the smooth cadence of his voice. "It's... personal for him now."
Cosima falls silent as the iPod loops back around to Edit Piaf once again, the French singer now crooning Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien. It's fitting, Delphine thinks as she stifles a bitter laugh.
"What are you going to do?" Cosima asks, a crack now present in her voice that hadn't been there mere seconds ago.
"I don't know. I'll figure something out."
"Like what?"
"Something." Delphine wraps her arms around herself.
Cosima shakes her head, clearly not satisfied with that answer. "What about Marion Bowles?"
"Marion has her own to protect." Delphine thinks about the sophisticated executive and the clone daughter she loves so much. "She can only go so far in shielding someone who has betrayed Topside."
Bowing her head forward, Cosima leans her elbows on her knees and steeples her fingers together. Her entire frame is rigid, ready to snap, as she contemplates Delphine's words. "So what now?"
"Well, now, I'm going to bed," she says. "You should probably head home as well."
Cosima watches her silently, unmoving, an internal debate flashing across her eyes until she nods to herself and slowly stands. Sadness washes over Delphine as she realizes that this might be the last time she ever sees Cosima. But instead of walking to the door and out of the suite, Cosima starts removing her coat, freeing each button one by one until she shrugs it off and lays it on the recliner.
"I could go home." Cosima walks toward Delphine. Purposefully, yet tenderly. As if she's afraid any sudden movement might cause Delphine to skitter off like a frightened cat. Not once breaking eye contact, Cosima stops mere inches away and Delphine resists the urge to press her back against the shelf . "Or…" Cosima says, reaching around her to turn up the volume. "We can just… dance."
"Dance?" Delphine doesn't know whether to laugh at Cosima's abrupt non sequitur.
"Yes." Cosima's dark eyes briefly drop down to Delphine's lips. "We might not get another chance. What do you say?"
Delphine knows she should say no. Knows that they should say goodbye. Because the longer they stay within such close proximity of each other, the harder it would become to ignore the gravitational pull that still exists between them despite all their best efforts to quell it. And yet Delphine's heart can't resist giving in, not with Cosima so close and looking at her so openly, her sweetly musky scent intoxicating.
She should say no, but she leads Cosima away from the shelf to an open space. She places one hand on the small of Cosima's back and Cosima grips her bare shoulder gently. Cradling Cosima's other hand in her own, heart throbbing in her chest, Delphine pulls their hips close together and they begin to sway in perfect time to gentle violin strings and smooth brass.
One song leads to another.
And then another.
Losing herself in the melodies, Delphine revels in the way they still fit together even after all their time apart. Cosima nestles closer, resting her head against Delphine's chest while Delphine caresses the top of Cosima's head with her cheek. Delphine's muscles relax and she feels weightless. When the music ends, they keep moving to the rhythmic harmony of their hearts, neither one wanting to let go. Despite her fear of disrupting the peace that has settled around them, Delphine eventually breaks the silence by whispering Cosima's name.
"What are we doing?" She murmurs into the grooves of Cosima's dreads.
Cosima stills, bringing their dance to an end. "Isn't it obvious?" She lifts her head up to meet Delphine's gaze once again.
"What about Shay?"
"What about her?"
Delphine lifts an eyebrow and Cosima looks away. Her grip tightens as something resembling regret flashes across her features. "That's over."
"Why?"
"Do you really care?" Cosima focuses on her again.
Delphine doesn't. Not really. But she can't help her curiosity and she nods anyway.
Cosima sighs. "No sane person would stay in a relationship where your girlfriend's ex threatens your life."
Mouth suddenly dry, Delphine holds her breath, waiting for Cosima to lash out at her yet again. To yell. To curse. Anything. But the explosion never comes.
"Did you threaten Shay?" Cosima asks, calmly, her expression unreadable.
"Yes," Delphine answers. No more secrets. No more lies.
Cosima's chest rises and falls. "Would you actually have hurt her if I hadn't called?"
Yes. No. Maybe. Delphine's teeth rake over her bottom lip. "I don't know."
"But you wanted to?"
She can't bring herself to answer, to give voice to the dark truth that had emerged and festered deep within her the moment she had laid eyes on the first surveillance photos of Cosima and Shay and their easy intimacy. She looks away, cheeks flushed with shame, but Cosima places her fingers on her chin and gently tilts her head back.
"Why didn't you?" Cosima asks.
"Because…" The explanation lodges in Delphine's throat and she swallows to let the words free. "Because you care about her. Don't you?"
"I do," Cosima concedes and Delphine's chest clenches painfully, unbearably so.
Her eyes begin to sting from unshed tears and she takes a deep breath, preparing herself to ask the one question she's not even sure she wants answered. "Do you… do you love her?" Her voice is so hoarse, accent so thick, she's unsure if Cosima can even understand her. She can barely understand herself, not with the way blood rushes through her ears as the silence stretches between them.
"I don't know," Cosima shakes her head, eyes wide, glassy. "I think I could have. One day, maybe. But even if I did…" She cups Delphine's face between her trembling hands. "It wouldn't compare… could never compare… to the way I love you."
Delphine's heart snaps and whatever thin line still separated them vanishes with those three words. They collide against each other, lips crushing and desperate against each other. Cosima shudders in her arms and Delphine's entire body coils with a searing desire she has repressed for far too long. Operating on pure instinct, she guides them toward her bedroom, the blind leading the blind. Cosima's touch sends sparks all across her skin. Her taste leaves Delphine lightheaded and dizzy. When they reach the threshold, Delphine pauses, fingers digging into the jut of Cosima's hip as she summons all of her willpower to pull away, to ensure full consent.
Breathless and vulnerable, she asks without speaking and Cosima's initial confusion dissolves into a soft smile. Her answer is another kiss, aching in its tenderness. Delphine melts into it. And despite the bittersweet knowledge that the night could be their last, Delphine draws Cosima inside her bedroom, without regret, and shuts the door.
A/N: This story was based on prompts from fetch-me-some-filet on tumblr (I'm sorry I hijacked your fluffy Cophine late-night dance prompt) and a Howie Day anon, as well as a message from a song lyrics anon. Thank you to the wonderful twig-height for reading this over for me (while exercising on a treadmill no less! That's dedication! lol).