Hey guys. So this is another Tony/Effy fanfiction. It's not nessecarily a pairing of them, but you know. Take it however you want. Also, it is a crossover of Skins and Dollhouse. But don't worry. If you haven't watched Dollhouse, you'll still understand the story. Don't let it deter you away from reading it, yeah?
I didn't put it in the crossover section because I don't think anyone would think of the two shows crossing over. So, at least give it a try. Please?
No real warnings. Rating may change but it's unlikely.


"Hello Beta." The familiar voice was pulling her back into the room she often woke up in. Eyes searching for a moment, she finally found his face and smiled serenely.

"Did I... fall asleep?"
"For a little while." He always said that. Of course, she couldn't remember that he said it... but she was sure he did.
"Shall I go now?" And she always replied that way. It just felt right. Like a script.
"If you like." Yes, she would like.


"Tone...?" It was Maxxie this time. For a moment, Tony wanted to smile. It was amusing that they thought he was breaking down. He was fine. He had to be. Turning to look at Max, he nodded. "I know. I'm spacing again."

"Yeah. You sure you're okay, mate?" Sometimes Maxxie cared too much. Like a girl.
"I'm fine Max. I'm perfectly fine. She's not my mother. I'm not suffering withdrawal."

But he knew that everyone – Sid, Michelle, Max – they all knew he wasn't okay. Effy was his sister and she was the only person who cared for him. Cared for him in a way that no one else could. They were a matched set. Tony and Effy. The Stonems. Impossible to be sold separately and at a high price to match. But now Effy was gone and he was worthless.

She hadn't just left. She hadn't run away. Because she had done it before and Tony had known instantly.
No. The unthinkable had happened. Effy's wit and her street-smart had failed her. She had messed up. Gotten killed. Kidnapped. Hooked on something stronger than spliff.
Either way, no one could find her. Not even that punk Cook – who she had been with. They had gone to New York. Claimed he had seen her at a party they were at one minute and the next, she had 'poofed' as he so eloquently put it.

Some part of him wanted to be angry with Cook. Punch him, yell at him. But he knew that even if he had been trying to watch out for her, he wouldn't have been able to. Effy didn't let anyone watch her. She was a free spirit. But that was the problem. Her instincts had failed and now she was missing. And strangely enough, Tony felt lost.


It had been three months. Three numbing months... Their mum was acting particularly fucked up but for once, Tony didn't blame her. Even he, perfect, unfazed Tony, had begun to show signs of loss. By now, everyone had accepted the fact that Effy was gone. The police still aired a small bit on the telly each night, saying the same thing over and over. Giving a description of her hair. Height. Where she had been. And each night, they flashed a picture of her – smiling and happy.

Where was she now?

And each night, though he promised himself he wouldn't, he found himself sitting on the couch. Waiting to see a glimpse of her face. Of course he could simply go and look at pictures of her whenever he wanted and stare at her face for hours. But this was safer. Less pathetic. When he saw her, he only saw her for 3 odd seconds. That was enough. It was controlled; kept him from breaking.