*promising myself and all the revision gods that I will study all night after I write this*
Note: When I don't know something, I just make stuff up…
Conceal, an Orphan Black fanfiction by zashaxander (aka tequilamaslany on tumblr)
Chapter 1
Rachel rolled her shoulders as she strode through the lobby of her building and towards the elevator.
"Ms Duncan," the doorman nodded to her as she passed. She nodded back. She strongly suspected he worked for her employers. She strongly suspected most of the people she encountered worked for her employers. They were that kind of organisation.
She unlocked her door with her electronic swipe card, listening to the satisfying click, then pushing the door and making a beeline for the keypad where she disarmed her security system. Then she stepped out of her heels and undid her blouse, finally allowing her face to relax from the stoney, stern expression she wore all day every day. It was replaced with worry, worry and exhaustion…
She went into the bathroom and removed her make-up; it had been irritating her swollen eye and lip all day. The bruises were fading fast but the twinges of pain still lingered. She turned on the shower, too hot, and shed her clothes to step under the heavy flow of water. It battered her shoulders and she bowed her head, breathing deeply as she tried to relax.
Her white bathrobe hung on the door, fluffy and clean as always. She dried herself quickly and shrugged into it, stretching as she did so, feeling the muscles in her legs and back tense then release. She was strong, stronger than they thought.
She flipped on the TV as she wandered into the kitchen area. She opened the fridge and took out the ingredients for the salad she'd planned for today. Everything was ordered, healthy, organised… She laid out the vegetables beside the chopping board and slid a knife out of the block. And then she stopped, gripping the cold steel in her tired fingers, listening for attackers that never came, monsters that never emerged from the shadowy depths of her desperate subconscious. She closed her eyes.
"You're… gay."
Cosima had been defensive, witty, and beautiful. Rachel hated her, hated her independence, her hopeful naivety, her hidden strength.
"My sexuality is not the most interesting thing about me."
Rachel knew that, of course. The question had been accidental, one of the very few things her mouth had ever managed to blurt out before her superbly controlled mind took over. But…
The affair between Elizabeth Childs and Alison Hendrix had been known about. And incidents of homosexuality among the clones were… Rachel pushed the thought away. It was the 21st century, having a lesbian affair in your college years was turning into something of a rite of passage. All the girls were doing it. She forced out a snort of derision and steadied her hand on the knife, moving it to slice up a cucumber with unnecessary vigour.
She felt herself slamming into the floor, heart racing with fear and- as Sarah straddled her, pressing the gun to her jaw.
"Nobody lays hands on me," she said, sounding far weaker than she wanted to. There was a flutter in her stomach.
"You don't own us," Sarah growled, jerking her body threateningly. Rachel looked up into Sarah's eyes.
At first she'd thought it had been hatred, pure and simple. But there had been something else there, something confused and mysterious, something far from violence or cruelty.
Rachel knew Sarah hated her. It had to be that way. She did as she was told, she did what she had been raised for. She fulfilled her contract as thoroughly as she expected her employers to. The arrangement was perfectly smooth, perfectly easy to live with. They left her alone…
But she was beginning to be a little… distrustful. She blamed Sarah entirely. Sarah had spoiled everything, she was too determined, too rough. She wouldn't fall in line, she wouldn't be persuaded. Perhaps it was motherhood. Rachel had heard that motherhood could do all kinds of things to change a woman. Or perhaps it was what had enabled the motherhood. Sarah was different. She was special. Of all of them… Sarah was a whole person.
Rachel was on the lettuce now, shredding and tearing it into the bowl. She shuddered, replaying what had happened in her office over and over again.
Her parents had been good. Strict, but caring. Helpful. Protective. They had taught her a firm, unrelenting moral code which she had lived by every day of her life. In a way it was all she had left of them… She blinked, her eyes prickling as she remembered a day from many, many years ago.
Rachel was sixteen, already beautiful, but already reserved, too. Hidden. Passion was to be concealed, to be ashamed of. So Rachel was not passionate about anything, not even the science that she loved to study. She worked hard, as hard as she could, studying in the lab after school. She was there every day. She hadn't realised anyone had noticed.
"If you help me with my homework, I'll go with you to the cinema on Saturday."
"Why would I want to go to the cinema with you?" she said to Anna, pretending not to be startled. Anna grinned, her curly brown hair bouncing on her shoulders, far too wild to fit in with the dress code.
"I know that you do," Anna said confidently.
"You should do your own homework."
Anna sat down beside her, opening her book.
The next day, a blushing Rachel found Anna in the yard before school.
"I can't go to the cinema. I'm not allowed. But if you like, my parents say you are very welcome to come to the house on Saturday afternoon. And you can stay for dinner." She smiled nervously. "I'll even help you with the next science assignment."
Anna smiled back, widely. She knew better than to comment on the protective parents. All she wanted was time with Rachel, she didn't really mind not having to fork out for a cinema ticket. Or two.
"I can't wait," she said happily.
Rachel felt… Like nothing she could explain. She'd never really had a friend before. She tidied her room, changing the pink bedspread for something more demure and grown up, kissing her teddy bear on the head before stuffing him under the bed. Her mother seemed glad that Anna was coming. Friends were normal. It was good if Rachel was normal.
When the much anticipated afternoon arrived, Rachel's nerves had worn her down to a frazzled mess. She greeted Anna, who had arrived very punctually, and escorted her upstairs far too formally. She offered her tea. Anna flopped down on the bed.
"Nice place," she said. Rachel bit her lip.
"Thanks," she whispered. She sat down awkwardly beside Anna. To her surprise, Anna took her hand. She flinched, entirely unused to physical contact of any kind. But Anna wasn't phased, and she didn't let go. Slowly, Rachel became calmer. They talked, about school, about music, about books… Anna discovered that Rachel liked to read, fantastical stories about far away places, even sci-fi comic books.
When Anna slid her arm around Rachel's shoulders, Rachel just melted into her embrace. When Anna kissed Rachel on the cheek, Rachel didn't even blush. Suddenly she was alive, her skin buzzed with an energy she hadn't known she could have. She pushed away from the wall they'd been leaning against and turned around, swinging a leg over Anna's and leaning in to kiss her-
The door opened and her mother really did drop the tea tray she had been carrying.
"Out. Get out!" she yelled at Anna. Anna ran from the room. Rachel gaped after her.
"Clean up this mess," her mother said firmly, but not unkindly. "And never, ever do anything like that again. It is unnatural and wrong. Stay away from people like her."
They'd sent her to a different school to do her A levels. She'd never seen Anna again. She nibbled her salad, sitting on the couch in front of the TV, absent mindedly watching the celebrity challenge show that was humming away.
Unnatural and wrong.
She couldn't be unnatural. She couldn't be wrong. Her perfection, her conformity, was what kept her safe. If she became even the slightest bit interesting, they would want her to be much more of a test subject. Rachel had never spoken of her doubt in the project, in the organisation. She didn't have anyone to speak to, and anyway, she was watched too closely. But it was there. From the very beginning, she had worked for her independence. Freedom was impossible, but as things were, at least she could live her life. At least she knew what was going on.
But if Cosima was… And Alison, and Beth, and what she'd seen in Sarah's eyes… Did that mean something? Could it be genetic? And if it was genetic… Rachel didn't want to think about what that could mean for equality campaigners across the world, but even within the constraints of the project, if it proved to be a shared trait, ought she not to display it as well?
She let out an exasperated sigh. Sarah was out of bounds, regardless. And Sarah hated her. And she hated Sarah.
She took her plate to the sink and washed it, then poured herself a glass of water. She would have preferred wine, but Alison's situation warned her off. And her health… Katja, Cosima… She had to be wary. She had to take care of herself. She turned off the TV and padded through to her bedroom. She had a slight headache but she wasn't yet ready to sleep. She put on her silk nightgown, then after a moment of deliberation over the matching robe, her oversized college sweater. Then she picked up her book and let herself escape into a fascinating love story from another, simpler time.
