This is an AU fic that begins in the last few minutes of the season 1 episode A Spy in the House of Love.
Standing on the walkway that overlooked the central atrium of the LA Dollhouse, Adelle DeWitt pressed a hand to her injured side, trying to force down the pain radiating from the bullet wound. It was almost poetic, in a sense, a physical injury inflicted by the person she had, until scant hours ago, trusted more than any other. For the entirety of the 3 years they had worked together, Laurence Dominic had lied to her.
Her ally, her trusted chief of security, was, in fact, an NSA spy.
Knowing that hurt far more than any actual injury.
Behind her, the door to the imprint room made a tiny sound as Topher Brink exited, the wedge containing Mr. Dominic held gingerly in his hand. She turned to face him, hand dropping back to rest by her side.
Mustn't show weakness.
Topher, looking mildly shell shocked, raised the wedge and quipped, "The unabridged Laurence Dominic."
Lose it in the archives. I trust his body's on the way to the Attic.
That would have been the smart thing to say.
The proper thing to say.
What came out of her mouth was, "I think perhaps sending Mr. Dominic to the Attic would be a waste. He could be far more useful here."
It was only logical, she told herself. She wasn't being overly sentimental, just making the best of a bad situation.
Topher blinked at her. "I'm sorry. I must have just had a momentary attack of the crazies, 'cause it sounded like you said you wanted to keep him here."
"Inform the docents from the Attic that they will not be taking Mr. Dominic into their care," she said, then glared at the gaping genius. "Now!"
Startled, Topher scrambled back into his domain and, by the time Adelle re-entered the room, he and Ivy were the only self aware individuals present. Mr. Dominic was prone in the imprint chair, body still and eyes dead.
He was, in essence, an empty shell. Everything that had made him Laurence Dominic was now contained in the small wedge lying benignly on Topher's desk.
Adelle stepped forward, looking down at Dominic, his normally sharp blue eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. He was a handsome man, there was no denying that. In his late 30's, or perhaps early 40's (she didn't know if even the birth date given in his personal file had been the truth), he was in excellent physical condition, not even a hint of an impending middle aged spread.
Most of their actives were young, as that was the age most of their clients desired, but there had been requests for more…mature company. As director of the LA Dollhouse, Adelle thought it her duty to provide for whatever her clients may desire.
She wondered if what she was about to do made her a sadist or a masochist.
Or both.
Ivy and Topher were huddled together by the bank of computers, watching her cautiously. After a rapid, hushed conversation (which ended when Ivy physically shoved Topher forwards), the neuroscientist asked, "Umm…Not to interrupt your communion with Veggie!Dom there, but what do you want us to do with him? He's cleaned out…autonomic functions are going to start shutting down and then comes eau de death and that's not something I want lingering in here…."
With a sigh, Adelle stepped back, pinning him with an icy gaze. "What do I intend to do?" she questioned rhetorically, raising her brow archly. "I am going to pay a visit to Dr. Saunders while you do what we pay you an exorbitant salary for."
He twitched, eyes bouncing from her to Ivy to Dominic and back several times in rapid succession. "You mean…."
Nodding curtly, she turned on her heel and marched towards the door. Without turning back, she commented, "It's about time we acquired a new Oscar anyhow."
TBC…