Just the Usual:
I don't own DollHouse, or any of its stock characters (they're all Joss Whedon's) so please don't sue me.
I tried to keep the poker terminology to a minimum so it's not too abstract for anyone who doesn't play.
And spoiler wise it's focusing on another aspect of the LA DollHouse and doesn't impede in Season 1's story arc in any way. If I'm wrong then please tell me and I'll make the appropriate adjustments.
And I hope you enjoy it.
Dollhouse: A Day in the Life of Charlie
"That's very good Charlie, you like stars don't you?"
Ms. Brook always made a habit of complimenting and physically touching her charges when she was supervising her art classes. Her touch being a programmable baseline requirement imprinted within the Doll-state, that being touched by a teacher both relaxed the Active and reminded them of her status; she was a teacher and they were the students.
None of this was sinister; Terri Brook had taught pre-schoolers and kindergarten before coming to Los Angeles and knew the best ways to get the most out of her charges.
"I like the stars Ms. Brook" replied Charlie, not looking up from his work.
Half a dozen Actives were using play-doh to create whatever their imagination offered.
Charlie often concentrated hard in art class, he rarely looked at his teacher or handler while he was drawing or painting. But he always replied to questions or responded to requests and despite this note being flagged in his file Dr. Saunders did not think it was anything to worry about.
They didn't have much dough, Charlie was on his third star now, they were just pointed two-dimensional shapes with one crescent in yellow dough representing a moon.
Ms. Brook had noted Charlie's star interest but had little insight into his gravitation towards it. She deemed that it would do no harm to ask him so she did
"Why do you like the stars Charlie?"
Charlie stopped, he had never been asked such a question before and his face frowned as he tried to search his memory for an answer. Due to his Doll-state he found nothing in his head so in the end he just said "They're nice to me".
Ms. Brook nodded this approvingly. She would note it in her log journal and pass it on to Dr. Saunders for her comment, whether or not Ms. DeWitt needed to be informed would rest at the feet of the House physician.
Charlie was still working on his stars when his handler John Urban came over to speak to Ms. Brook.
After a quick conversation she nodded before coming to interrupt Charlie while John waited at the edge of the mat that was the boundary of the art area.
"Charlie" she said, touching his shoulder and focusing his mind on her voice. "Would you go with Mr. Urban please, Dr. Saunders would like to see you".
The touch and his handler's name had the required affect and Charlie began to untie the apron all the Actives wore during class.
"Charlie" spoke Ms. Brook as he was preparing to leave "Please clear your station first, you don't want to leave it for others to clear for you".
"No, that wouldn't be fair" murmured Charlie. He knew that it was wrong to leave messes for others to clean up; Ms. Brook had to remind him from time to time for leaving his art station untidy, especially if they were using paints.
"Thank you very much" said Charlie, smiling to Ms. Brook as he left with John, his handler, whom he trusted more than anything.
Walking through the door to Dr. Saunders office Charlie met the lady who was always nice to him. Of course his extra sweet tooth and her endless supply of lollipops always helped in his opinion too!
"Hello Charlie" said the doc, "Please have a seat here for a moment".
"Now Charlie, are you going to be good for the doctor?" John held Charlie's hand to access the imprint protocols that had been established between the two.
"Yes" replied Charlie, he was always nice for Dr. Saunders, she gave him sweet things and took care of the stuff that hurt him from time to time.
"I'll call you when I'm done Mr. Urban" called Claire, turning back to Charlie who was looking at the flowered paperweight on Claire's desk as John went back to monitor the DollHouse floor. .
"Charlie it's time for you to have your hair cut" said Claire, covering his upper body with the usual black cape that all hair dressers had.
"I'm not going to hurt you Charlie but I need you to sit still for me ok?"
"I understand Dr. Saunders" replied Charlie and Claire noticed Charlie's body visibly stiffen.
While Claire set about cutting the ends of Charlie's straggly blonde locks she just started humming, nothing in particular, just some formless tune to help her focus on the task in hand.
She occasionally did this when she was suturing Actives that had mild cuts or other wounds they'd picked up through engagements. It helped break the silence that was so often present in the House. The Actives didn't implement conversation so her procedures did suffer from suffocating silence when she worked.
Cutting the hair of the male Actives was not a requirement by the in-house physician though, Claire did it just to stop any of their hair getting overly long or unkempt; and Charlie's hair seemed to grow at lot faster than some of the other males working there. Female Actives had their hair styled once every 6 weeks by an assigned team of stylists and salon staff. All vetoed by The Center (DollHouse HQ) they traveled from one House to another in the continental US maintaining the hair of the female employees. Even Adelle DeWitt had been known to have her hair groomed on occasion by the band of experts.
It was just to keep their hair sleek and uniform, once imprinted the dolls themselves could style it to suit a particular engagement, but in their doll-state it was easier to make their hair as low-maintenance as possible.
"Your hair Charlie, it grows so fast, sometimes I think we're going to have to start cutting it ever month from now on".
"I like my hair Dr. Saunders".
"I know you do Charlie, others like it too". Claire could think of a few engagements Charlie had had in the past when he'd worked on a children's oncology ward for a week and the little girls, some already losing their hair from the required chemotherapy had enjoyed braiding his hair for hours.
When Charlie had returned that day he'd asked for the braids to be left in following his treatment but that, of course, was impossible following his wipe in Topher's chair.
Finally after combing out the off-cuts and making sure the back was level she was done. She always mused that it was one of the few times the client didn't ask to see the back of their hair, or how it looked in the mirror. Charlie trusted Dr. Saunders implicitly, giving him a proper haircut was all part of the service.
"All finished" she proclaimed, removing the cape with a flourish.
Charlie didn't move, he was still sitting still in the chair until Claire or whoever said otherwise.
Claire took this as an opportunity to snatch a lollipop from the pot on her desk and hand it to him; she saw his eyes light up when he had the candy.
"You can go now Charlie. Go and have a shower to make sure any loose hair is free, you don't want to get hair in your bed".
"A shower would relax me, thank you Dr. Saunders".
Claire watched the tall Louisianan go, stepping with pre-Active grace around the yoga mat and back past Ms. Brook's art class to the showers. She didn't know Charlie that well, how well can a physician know an Active in their Doll-state? But she did like him; he was more polite than most and you got the impression that when he smiled he really meant it rather than just relying on the programming to trigger specific responses.
*
Charlie walked down the lit wooden corridors to where a woman in a white uniform was standing near two benches.
"Hello Charlie, can I help you?"
"Dr. Saunders said I ought to shower. It will relax me".
"It will Charlie, please take these and follow the path round to the right please".
The lady Attendant handed him a blue bathrobe and shower sandals and he took them round to the changing cubicle.
While he was changing out of his track pants and t-shirt he noticed Yankee just wrapping a towel round herself, her ankle still red and angry where she'd burnt it.
"Hello Charlie" she said, passing him to go to the mirror to comb her hair out.
"Hello" he replied, not completing the sentence as he was focusing on the shower.
He turned to call her name but knew it was rude to shout across to someone. By the time he reached the shower he'd forgotten he'd seen her.
Another Attendant was at the shower hub and after handing him his robe Charlie got to enjoy the warmth of the water easing out the tensions in his back and spine. Sitting so still for Dr. Saunders was a test, and Charlie passed it, trying to be his best for her while she helped him get better. He got a lollipop too.
There was still a while to go before bedtime, so Charlie returned to the main atrium after dressing in the clothes given to him by the same lady who handed him his bathrobe.
"There you are Charlie" she said "Why don't you go and sit by the pool for a while? You've had a busy day hmmm?"
"Thank you" replied Charlie.
The lady Attendant was right. He could sit and read for a while before bedtime.
"Would you like a snack Charlie? Before bedtime?"
"Yes, I would like that. Food helps me be my best" he replied brightly.
The lady smiled "Well why don't you go and see Ms. Winters in the kitchen? Tell her Sandy sent you for a snack, ok?"
"'Sandy sent me for a snack'" Charlie repeated.
"Yes I understand, thank you".
Sandy watched Charlie leave the shower area; she liked the blonde haired Active. He reminded her of her baby brother, who was developing a considerable southerner accent of his own during his undergraduacy at LSU.
**
The 1st Meeting
Adelle takes her time during such interviews. Often potential candidates need a variety of prompts to sign on the line.
'The Rossum Party Line' one could call it.
Emotional blackmail, threats both to themselves and loved ones, promises of bonus money above and beyond the regular payouts; anything, without reason or limit.
But this blonde man in front of her is intriguing. And not just because of his blonde hair and southern drawl.
It's the grime under his nails, and the missed areas of beard that Adelle notices despite his hands being clean and face shaven. These specific areas, the areas that Chael cannot see it seems, remain.
They give him a fractured appearance that reminds her of the day Victor arrived in this room, playing with the green china tea cup like a hyperactive child, nerves clearly shot through severe PTSD.
'Why is it the majority of male candidates are often the most emotionally damaged?' she wonders.
"All this… in my head" he jabs a finger into his temple with such force that Adelle raises an eyebrow, an unusual reaction on her part for such a move.
"Will this be gone afterwards?"
"With absolute certainty" she replies. "We can arrange it that any past memory will be permanently removed following the completion of your contract".
Chael looked at Adelle straight in the eye and Adelle saw just how sleep deprived the young man was; grey bags hanging off bleary eyes.
"When was the last time you got any real rest Mr. Boudreaux?"
Adelle resisted a smile at this point; to laugh at the boy now would be uncouth.
But Chael smiled sadly "I don't remember".
"It's five years Mr. Boudreaux. This is a good thing I'm offering here".
Chael reached for the tea "Can't get any worse can it?"
Adelle smiled.
"Without intervention I promise nothing" came her reply.
Chael nodded at this and Adelle could see him thinking through possible courses of action in his head.
Finally he drained the cup of tea in one and reached for the paperwork.
Bringing the pen to the dotted line he stopped at the last second.
"Don't abandon me".
"I'm sorry?"
Adelle was genuinely confused at this remark.
"The government abandoned us, all of us. The media says it was Katrina that caused all the deaths, the devastation. It wasn't. It was the officials. It was those who were supposed to be in charge, who were supposed to look after those who couldn't help themselves, who ran when they should have stayed. Stay and help. And they didn't".
He was almost crying by the end; and Adelle felt for him, more than some of the other potential candidates that had passed before her. Like Victor.
He believed in something, in someone that didn't return that belief when the debt came due. Adelle had experienced that feeling many times in the cut-throat world of Rossum's business ventures; it ran with the territory, but she admitted it still stung when she was backstabbed in the boardroom.
By Clive Ambrose especially.
She would not do such a thing to this man.
"Chael, I will not abandon you. Not while you are an employee here, you have my word".
Chael scorned her words with a look that told her he'd heard that line before and trusted when he shouldn't have.
"You – have – my – word".
Adelle enunciated each word with typical, precise English tact.
Chael held her gaze, unblinking for a long thirty seconds, nodded once and signed on the line.
"Thank you" said Adelle.
And she surprised herself later when she realized she had actually meant it.
**
Ms. Winters was similar to Ms. Brook in the respect that she had worked as a catering manager for a prestigious Chicago prep school for many years and was a close friend of the family of someone high up on the Rossum board of directors.
Everyone knows everyone else in The Rossum Corporation.
She left the actual cooking to the chefs employed by the House, but was responsible for the ordering of the ingredients as well as any out-of-hours requests that were put forth, or problems that might arise when the chefs had knocked off for the day.
She also dolled out the occasional snack to any Actives or staff that were working unsocial hours.
So when she saw Charlie walk into the kitchen and repeat the phrase Sandy had given to him she knew he was partial to fruit so she quickly served up some slices of brioche and some dates and went back to her ordering.
The dining hall was more empty than usual this evening.
Charlie ate alone at one of the tables, and Annie Winters sat on a stool at the clean metallic countertop watching the young man eat while she ticked off boxes and made notes regarding the forthcoming invoices.
She often wondered what was going on inside the minds of the Actives as they ate.
Whether they savored their food or did they just eat in order to provide the energy for them to 'be their best'?
Annie always felt creepy whenever that phrase was mentioned. But she understood its necessity.
The means to the end of maintaining the standards of any House, or home, or business was discipline; the idea that certain things must be always adhered to, like the exercise regime here, in order for the whole to be achieved.
This is why she wasn't worried about serving Charlie brioche. The rate the Actives exercised it would be burnt out of his system within a day.
It seemed in no time at all that Charlie had finished his snack and was preparing to leave.
'Wow, that boy can eat fast' she thought.
"Thank you Ms. Winters" said Charlie, returning the dishes and tray to the tray hopper.
"You're welcome Charlie, have a nice evening okay?"
Charlie nodded and left the food area, padding away in bare feet and that methodical Doll-like amble that all the Actives possessed when they walked.
Annie looked at the lone tray in the hopper, she'd run the dishes under the washer in a second.
They could sit there all night, and no doubt if any night-time engagements were taking place then Topher would be down raiding her cupboards for junk and she would return tomorrow to a mountain of crockery that needed to be run through the washers before breakfast.
The chefs would certainly not appreciate that.
Chefs were a funny breed.
But at least no one complained about their food here.
Annie shook her head, finished her paperwork, rinsed the bowls and left for the evening, taking that 10 story elevator ride back to civilization.
Meanwhile Charlie, with nothing left to do went and sat by the pool for a while.
The sofas were soft, but firm, nothing ended up where it shouldn't be and Charlie was content just to sit back on one of them and let his body relax near the water of the pool and the stillness of himself.
The House was starting to become quiet now.
Charlie's snack had moved him outside the first bedtime call, which rounded up any Active not currently engaged in an activity with their teachers and allowed them to shower and get into bed without causing any bottlenecks at the changing rooms.
The only Actives still awake now were those getting treatments, seeing Dr. Saunders or out on engagement. Charlie didn't know this of course, he was just happy looking at the water and thinking of the stars.
He was starting to wonder why everything around him seemed so empty and quiet.
He didn't like the quiet and although he could see the water in the pool, and the rocks at the bottom of it there was something about the blue-glass swirls that made him uneasy.
Charlie instinctively drew his feet up and sat cross-legged on the sofa. He was aware of other people around him but the water was drawing his eyes into it like a magnet and no matter what he thought he couldn't bring himself to look away from the blue vanishing point in the depths of the pool.
"Hello"
The voice and touch on his shoulder made Charlie jump.
"Are you ok?" offered Yankee. Unsure at what had just made her friend shiver.
Charlie smiled seeing Yankee, he hadn't seen her in a long time. He didn't remember seeing her in the shower that afternoon.
"I was looking at the water" replied Charlie.
"I like the water" said Yankee, easing down beside Charlie on the sofa. She had a bandage around her ankle where Dr. Saunders had been disinfecting it following her lazering.
"You went to see Dr. Saunders" said Charlie, pointing to Yankee's lollipop.
Yankee nodded "She is very nice, she helped my ankle get better, she helps me be my best".
"I went to Dr. Saunders today" said Charlie. But Yankee didn't notice Charlie's hair. Although granted it was only slightly shorter than before and Yankee had a lollipop.
"It is very quiet here" said Charlie softly, staring at the water again.
"I don't like it when it's quiet".
Yankee turned and looked at Charlie as he said this. She was trying to understand what Charlie meant, she liked the calm here.
Was calm the same as quiet?
She took the lollipop out of her mouth and offered it to Charlie.
"Will this make you feel better? Like when you see Dr. Saunders?"
Charlie took the lollipop from her and started sucking on it. Nothing seemed wrong in what he was doing, Yankee was his friend and she was trying to help him feel better. Remembering his manners he took the sweet out and politely said "Thank you" before returning it.
As Charlie looked down he noticed Yankee's ankle and the dressing over the lazer area.
"What's that?" he said finishing the sweet.
"I don't know" said Yankee, following his gauze. "Dr. Saunders helped me, it was hurting, and she is very nice".
Charlie nodded at this and was about to ask another question when a chime sounded throughout the House, followed by a familiar voice announcing:
"Would everyone in the main atrium please proceed to the showers in an orderly manner please. Thank you".
Both Charlie and Yankee recognized the voice and without saying much to each other they got off the sofas and followed the last remaining Actives down the corridor from the atrium and towards the shower hub.
**
The 1st Engagement
"Thirty thousand to call, Daddy's boy!"
Jackson Lavelle Jr. had developed a reputation for riding on his father's blubbery coat tails. Being the only child of the governor of Mississippi will hazard such pitfalls. Not that Jackson minded taking advantage of these 'problems' though, his father provided for him with an ample safety net equivalent to the GNP of half a dozen Sub-Saharan countries.
Jackson looked at his chips, mentally trying to gauge if calling was a wise idea.
His caller was a regular thorn in his side, Tyler Reynolds, one of the aides to the Democratic candidate in the forthcoming state elections.
As ruthless and calculating as his Republican brethren Tyler had fallen in with Jackson's poker crowd for both something to do and hoping it led to bigger and better things.
Tyler was hedging his own bets on the last part because what Jackson Jr. didn't know was that Tyler Reynolds was the godson of one of the more powerful capos in the Colombo crime syndicate.
And the Colombo's were always interested in politics.
No one in Governor Jackson Lavelle's party knew this potential time-bomb sitting in Jackson Jr's lap.
But Adelle DeWitt did.
This is where Sonny Chapelle, Jackson Jr's new aide and bodyguard came into play.
Sonny wasn't a player in this five man game, so he didn't sit down. But from his leaning post behind Jackson he kept an eye on the table, the chips, the dealer and the cards with all the scrutiny of a New York rounder.
So far Junior was holding his own, ahead but only just; and although he had being sucked into two silly mistakes which had cost him substantial chunks of his bankroll he was still on course to make it to the final when the last two players went head-to-head.
Until he said "Call".
Thirty thousand dollars went into the middle of the table.
"2 pair" declared Jackson.
Tyler grinned "Full house" he said showing threes over queens.
Jackson's face went thunderous but he said nothing. But Sonny could tell he was seething as Tyler raked in the money that had only recently been his.
Sonny's phone chirped, holding it to his ear he called across the table to his employer "Phone call for you Mr. Lavelle".
The other players all snickered at the formality. They were all around Jackson's age, nineteen, and they all had the distinct impression that this new bodyguard was calling Jackson Mr. through the conditions of employment rather than genuine respect.
For Jackson was currently acknowledged as a lot of things but being an adult wasn't one of them.
"Take a message!" snapped Junior, playing with his bourbon glass that all the 5 players had next to their chip piles.
"I'm sorry sir, but the call's urgent and… private".
Jackson looked up at this and at Sonny's indignant look clearly trying to tell him something.
"Fine!" he grumbled. Throwing a few chips on the table to cover his hand he got up left the room with a "Deal me out, this won't take long".
Sonny followed him as he went, handing him the phone as he did so.
"Hello Jackson Lavelle. Hello? Hello… this phone's dead you idiot, there's-"
"Will you shut up for one second".
Sonny's voice was calm yet firm against the whiny southerner. His mouth hung open; Sonny doubted he'd been talked to like that in his life. He took full advantage of this momentary silence.
"What are you doing in there? Can you even play this game?"
"What the fuck you talking about, course I can" came the reply, but Sonny knew that was hot air. Like father like son obviously.
"Clearly you don't cos you can't even lie to me and we're not playing cards here".
Jackson went quiet again, realizing he'd been found out.
Sonny leaned back against the nearest window ledge of the corridor where they'd found themselves following their quick exit.
"You can't play, you can't read people, you can't card count and you're throwing around $30,000 calls like they're nothing. So what's that all about?"
"You don't understand anything in there 'security man'".
The last words were delivered with a sneer but Sonny didn't bite.
"Maybe not, but I know how to play cards and I don't see the point of losing on purpose to people who will gladly take your money for nothing".
Sonny was sitting on the window ledge now. He clearly had this boy figured out and the boy knew it to, and he didn't like it.
"You think it's easy being the son of the governor?" spat Jackson, halfway to throwing a punch at Sonny or crying his eyes out, Sonny wasn't sure which at this point.
"Everyone knows you cos of who your father is, and you know that whatever you do will be measured in his achievements. And heaven forbid you embarrass him, but also heaven forbid if you let him help you do anything".
Sonny laughed at this. Threw back his head and laughed to the ceiling.
"That's it? You're throwing money down the toilet because of some messed up reason relating to the fact that you're the son of someone rich and powerful? Shit I gotta write that one down".
Jackson wasn't expecting this reaction, but Sonny could read this young man like a book. He couldn't go back inside looking like he did, but he didn't know where to go if he left the building either.
So Sonny decided to offer advice, not that this was his forte but what the hell "Jackson, I strongly suggest you leave this game. Tyler is playing you. And you know it. And he knows that you know it. But you're letting him do it anyway. Why that is I have no idea, I can guess but that's not my business. All you're going to do is to get into debt with this man.
And from what I hear about him he's the last person you wanna be in debt to".
"My father will help me out of any problems".
Sonny shook his head at this boy's arrogance and seeming inability to grasp the danger of his situation.
"You think Tyler's playing on his own? You know he's connected right?"
Sonny's mouth dropped and he did his goldfish impression for a third time in 10 minutes.
"Yes, connected, like Mafia, like Goodfellas, like bleed you dry or take your kneecaps or some other body part".
"I didn't know" stammered the boy, reducing in age every second. He'd started out a nineteen but was looking more and more like a thirteen year old by the minute.
"Well, it's not something Tyler advertises. He just goes out and reels in the fish for his godfather to catch. And you're the fish".
"OK… ok… what do I do?"
'Finally' Sonny thought 'We can drop this macho bullshit'.
"OK, first things first getting out of the game is the top priority. But you can't just cash in and leave, Tyler will know something is up and from experience I've learnt that guys like this don't react well when their plans go south.
And I don't think for one second Tyler came to this place alone".
That line caused Jackson to shiver.
"So you get back in the game, play it straight. No big raises or flush draws. Tyler's probably rigged it for you to be in the last pair anyway, if we can avoid that then great. If not... well... I'll think of something when the time comes".
Jackson was nodding at all this; Sonny was hoping he was taking it all in.
"In the meantime you need to go and clean yourself up. Pee, wash your face. Try and give the impression that nothing's wrong. I know you clearly can't lie to these guys but let's not make it easy for them, right?"
Jackson nodded and went to find the men's room. Sonny flipped up his cell phone and called his Security head.
"Mr. Dominic please".
*
He knocks the door twice before entering. Adelle knows it's only Laurence Dominic who ever knocks twice so she doesn't comment on his entry.
"Yes Mr. Dominic, what is it?"
"I've just received a phone call Ma'am from Charlie; he thinks he's managed to penetrate the fug surrounding the Senator's son's brain. He's planning to work on extracting the boy sometime over the next few hours".
Adelle turned around on her chair at this "A few hours?"
"Poker games can go on for a while Ma'am".
Adelle shook her head, she really hadn't thought of playing cards as a pastime. Well, not the extent where she actually wanted to play.
"Fair enough, how does Charlie sound?"
"Sound Ma'am? He sounded like Sonny Chapelle. That is his imprint".
"Yes, I know all that. What I am trying to determine Mr. Dominic is that did Charlie sound confident in his own abilities, surely you've got some kind of sixth-sense towards this? It is his first engagement".
Laurence Dominic frowned for a second before speaking.
"There's a taint there. It's possibly his imprint, a card sharp and an ex-marine can cause unexpected combinations concerning the ideal of honour".
"That hasn't stopped you though has it? Not what I hear, what the handlers let slip about during their monthly poker games, you're something of a hustler".
Adelle smiled at this, Dominic just looked uneasy; she couldn't determine if it was the reputation he was picking up for his card skills among the handlers or the fact that she knew the information in the first place. He ought to know she has eyes and ears everywhere, not just those of Laurence Dominic.
"I just think… I'll wait and see if Charlie has the capability to handle such imprints in the future. I don't see him in such stand-up roles as those played by Victor for example".
Adelle's smile dropped at the mention of Victor's name.
"Unusual that such a random example would bring up that particular Active" she said.
The tone was clipped upper-English. Dominic knew he might have overstepped the mark with this friendly sparring.
"Not at all" he recovered. "I am simply aware that he has portrayed more official governmental types recently. I cannot see Charlie fulfilling that role with the same degree of efficiency".
Adelle's smile returned.
"Why Mr. Dominic, this wouldn't have to do with his accent or background would it?"
Dominic returned the grin for the first time.
"I resent the insinuation Ma'am that I am somehow biased against our Southern Actives".
"Hmm... I will keep that under advisement. If that is all Mr. Dominic?"
Dominic took that as his cue to leave.
"I will keep you informed on Charlie's progress Ma'am".
With that he turned and left her office, as gracefully as he'd entered.
*
Sonny was an expert at reading people.
It wasn't just Jackson's inability to count cards either; from his leaning post behind Jackson he had a bird's eye view into the face of Tyler Reynolds.
And Sonny could tell Tyler was not happy.
Jackson was trying his best to remain ignorant of his situation but the boy was as transparent as a plastic bag. Tyler had cottoned on to Jackson's timid style of play, so different to his bravado prior to the 'phone call', that he would assume the caller had given Jackson the heads up as to Tyler's ulterior motive.
Tyler might not suspect Sonny, and Sonny reinforced the simple southern stereotype with repeated 'Sirs' and 'Mr. Lavelles'; so this would give Tyler a brain cramp at best trying to figure out if he'd been made, and at worst it would give Sonny time to plan his own exit strategy, to implement should the opportunity arise.
Finally, watching Jackson fold a pair of pocket aces following the flop Tyler throw his own cards down in disgust.
The three other players looked clueless but Sonny knew then that Tyler knew Jackson's hand, Tyler was a mechanik and through 'hanging' spent cards to Jackson was able to steer the game in the direction he chose as easily as driving a car.
Tyler wanted Jackson in the final, and was prepared to do anything to get it.
As Jackson dealt the next hand a secretary working in the offices where the game was taking place entered and announced "Phone call for Mr. Chapelle please"
Sonny figured as much, they had to get him out of the game somehow in order to expose Jackson.
Jackson looked up at him at the announcement.
"Take a message" he called to the secretary, but could see the lady wasn't going to be placated that easily.
Sonny put his hand on Jackson's shoulder, out of sight of Tyler's beady eyes "I'll be back in ten minutes Jackson" he whispered before straightening up and following the secretary out the door.
……..
….
..
It didn't even take 10 minutes.
Jackson hadn't played two hands yet before Sonny returned, looking flushed but alive and only slightly disheveled.
Long story short, Sonny didn't know if Tyler Reynolds's security team had meant to kill him as a leverage tactic or simply sedate him. Either way it wasn't an experience he cared for and took the necessary measures his training (i.e. Topher's imprinting process) had given him.
After a flurry of strikes both given and received from various people around the desk where the supposed phone call was Sonny was back. He thought he might have one broken rib but other than that he was tough.
The secretary with the hypodermic was curled up under her desk dreaming of Brad Pitt courtesy of her own needle, and the three goons that accompanied her who he assumed were Tyler's muscle (or a good portion of it) were laid out around her like a moat around a castle.
They were alive but Sonny had been forced to stick one man's head in a photocopier. The glass had cracked and there was blood everywhere but nothing was gushing so nothing vital had been severed and after pillowing his head with his jacket Sonny returned to the card room.
The look on Tyler's face was a picture. Sonny smiled and just said "Wrong number" before returning to his leaning pole.
As the last hands were being dealt Sonny calculated that with a bit of luck Jackson might pull this off and avoid getting sucked into the one-on-one final game.
Jackson was trailing in third place of five, behind Tyler and another kid called Anderson. No doubt Tyler was going to rig Jackson's hand hoping he'd bite on the flush draw he would provide for him with the community cards.
Tyler didn't have any other play here. His muscle strategy had failed; he could hardly threaten Jackson in front of 3 independent witnesses, so he put everything into this last hand.
And it almost worked.
Almost.
"$10,000 to call, Jackson" came his dead reply.
"Call".
Fourth Street revealed a Six of spades. Jackson held pocket Five and Nine with the flop giving him an Eight and a Four. Sonny knew the River or Fifth Street card would give a Seven, it was obvious.
He hoped Jackson was clued in to Tyler's ploy.
"$20,000" said Tyler, scattering chips like pepper on a steak.
"$50,000" replied Jackson. Sonny raised an eyebrow, re-raising at this stage was mad. He wanted Jackson out of the game not taking more of Tyler's money.
Tyler put forth the remaining $30,000 to call and turned the river card to reveal, sure enough the Seven of spades.
He grinned, wanting Jackson to think he had something unbeatable but hoping to sucker him in to winning the hand he was supposed to.
"$25,000".
Jackson smiled, looked at his cards and breathed out slowly "Sorry Tyler, I don't think I can win with these" and threw the cards away face down.
Tyler's face dropped and as Anderson made his two pair had to hide his growing anger at Jackson with fake congratulations to the player next to him who was now against him in the final.
As Jackson got up to leave the table he didn't feel lost or heartbroken for losing the money. Instead he felt liberated in a weird way; he'd seen the angle the man across the table was trying to play him with and had avoided it. Granted he'd had a lot of help from his new security man but he'd learnt something today.
Pride.
In himself.
And maybe a warning as well; a warning not to take everything at face value in this world.
"I'll be seeing you Junior" came Tyler's sneering reply.
Jackson turned back as he was leaving "I kinda doubt that Tyler".
That was it, no quip or sarcasm just quiet determination. Walking in front of him to open the door like good security Sonny was silently proud of the boy.
Of the man.
As they left the building and headed towards Jackson's BMW Sonny took the time to ask Jackson a question:
"So what did we learn today?"
"Don't swim with sharks?" joked the boy.
"Or you end up 'swimming with the fishes', yeah right, corny" came Sonny's reply.
As they reached the car Jackson opened it and got in starting the engine without a word, Sonny turned and began the walk to his own vehicle.
Suddenly the horn went on the Beemer. Sonny turned and waited as the car drew up beside him.
Jackson stuck his hand out "Thank you Sonny. Really, thank you".
Shaking it Sonny nodded with a smile. "All part of the service, sir".
"Am I going to see you at home?"
Sonny nodded. "Sure, just let me write out a report concerning a little 'altercation' I had in there and I'll be home to inform your father of everything. It's all good news Jackson".
Jackson grinned "Cool. Hey! You like gumbo? C'mon I recognize the accent, all you country boys like gumbo surely?"
Sonny nodded.
"Ok then, I'll phone the order in; I'll get you and your guys some of the best stuff tonight. Proper stuff, not the drek they sell to tourists in New Orleans".
"Ok Jackson, that'd be appreciated".
Jackson drove away, the Beemer kicking up the dust as it left the parking lot.
Sonny walked back round the building to where his van was parked, one of his crew was waiting there by the door.
"Hey Sonny, would you like a treatment?"
*
"So, we agree then. Charlie performed well enough to pass the probation?"
Mr. Dominic didn't say anything.
'All right, here we go' thought Adelle.
"Speak Mr. Dominic!"
She hated it when he mused over security issues on his own.
"I like him".
Adelle was surprised, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow to comic effect.
"I do. Unusual as it must be for you to hear I think Charlie will be a good addition to the House".
"Really?" she didn't sound convinced.
"Really Ms. DeWitt. Despite what you may assume I don't think of every new Active as a potential threat. Not even after that incident with Alpha".
"It's just the way you are with Echo-"
"Is the way I am with Echo" Dominic interrupted, speaking with more authority to his head of house than she was used to.
"My instincts tell me that Echo is more than she seems. I don't feel that way about Charlie".
"Because he follows orders?"
"Because he got results. I accept not all engagements will be successful, but if Charlie is the assigned Active it will not be for the lack of trying on his part".
Adelle nodded at this admission, her belly feeling warm which was an unexpected but not wholly unpleasant feeling.
"Right then" she said turning and picking up Charlie's file that was lying on her desk.
"Schedule a session with Dr. Saunders for a more extensive emotional screening and put a tick in the engagement ear-marked Charlie".
Dominic left, and Adelle hurried to the drinks cabinet.
That man was infuriating!
All "Yes Adelle, No Adelle" but she could tell he was more than a yes-man. Much more.
It was unfortunate that the rules preventing employee relationship extended to the head of the House. But Adelle knew that rules were there for a reason; like 'being your best', they maintained the order of things and in such a rigidly controlled environment such as theirs she could not break them.
Even for the sake of her own happiness.
**
Even though Charlie had showered only an hour before the announcement for the sleep-call to the remaining Actives he still walked with Yankee down the familiar carpeted corridors to the shower hub and the familiar Attendant Sandy.
"Good evening Yankee, Charlie" said Sandy. She was working a late shift and would be supervising the bedtime of the Actives until 2am when the dead-night staff clocked on.
The DollHouse was weird like that, rather than having two shift changes of 12 hours a piece it had changes at 10 in the morning, six in the evening and the dead-night switch at two.
Why this was, was never really explained (was anything in this organisation?) but Sandy believed it was to keep as many staff members as possible on duty over the course of the twenty-four hours. And studies had concluded that the attention span of staff on twelve hour stints begin to lapse during the last hour or so of a shift and a drop in security could never be tolerated, even for a single hour prior to shift change.
In that aspect the House really was like a prison.
Charlie showered for the required length of time it took to relax him, the warm water easing out the tension that had built up in him during his time by the water ponds.
Drying off and changing he watched quietly as Yankee combed her hair out and received medical attention from one of the Attendants in changing the dressing on her ankle which was removed prior to showering.
"There you are Yankee" said the man "Now try not to knock your ankle on anything ok?"
"Ok. Thank you" she replied softly, walking out to rejoin her friend on their way to bed.
Both Actives were sleeping in the southern dormitory structure with three others. Kilo was out on an overnight engagement so that left the pair sharing their pods with Papa and India for the night.
This didn't faze either Yankee or Charlie in the slightest. They knew where they were, who they were and what was required. And Charlie admitted to himself he was tired and needed sleep to be his best in the morning.
The pod lids opened with a hushed whirring and each of the four Actives knew which pod was theirs, walking to it with a sibilant grace they all possessed.
Lying down on the mattress and the pillow Charlie let his breath ease out of him as he willed his muscles to go limp and the tension to seep out of his fingertips. The lid closed above him and he could sense the lights above him growing dimmer as the room became darker and warmer and more like home.
Looking up through the opaque lid he could make out the stars shining out from the nightlight situated in the centre of the dormitory. Just glowing blue and yellow shapes, they looked like stars to Charlie and he reminded himself that whenever he felt sad or nervous he would think of these stars and it would make him happy again.
He could smell the familiar scent of vanilla that was in the pods at night now, and this sent made Charlie feel safe for both himself and his friends.
This was his last thought before sleep took him away to dream.
*
The Origins of Stars and Rainfall
"Hello Charlie, how are you feeling?"
"Did I fall asleep?" Charlie said, replying to Topher's question groggily.
"For a little while".
"Should I go now?"
"Why don't you go with Dr. Saunders Charlie, she would like to ask you some questions".
Charlie's face fell in confusion
"Questions?"
"It's ok Charlie" said Clare, appearing behind Topher "I just want to make it easier for you to be your best here, that's all".
Charlie wasn't sure but Dr. Saunders was always nice to him so he agreed.
As Clare guided the young man out of the imprint room and down to her office Topher was busy uploading the imprint of Sonny Chapelle onto the DollHouse mainframe.
"Goodbye gumbo-lovin' southern security consultant, it's been a pleasure" he giggled to himself as the data bled away into the archive.
Meanwhile Clare was erecting an emotional parameter with her new Active through a combination of recorded response and control questioning. Having established a baseline for her report she now moved off the scripted 'How are you feeling' to something more personal.
"Does anything scare you Charlie?"
Charlie looked puzzled; he didn't understand fear given the lack of traumatic external stimuli the House was ruthless in suppressing. But when he didn't reply with the traditional response of "Should I?" Clare wondered if she may have found something.
"Are you afraid here Charlie?"
Charlie shook his head "No Dr. Saunders. I like it here. But the water here. It's cold".
"The water in the showers?"
"No Dr. Saunders, out there".
Charlie pointed out to the main atrium where a number of Actives were undergoing their daily yoga sessions.
Clare guessed he meant the water in the pond in the centre of the room.
"The pond water?"
Charlie nodded.
"Why does the pond water scare you Charlie?"
Charlie considered this question, his emotional responses, specifically his iris dilation told Clare he was trying to access memories that were either omitted or restricted following his initial brain treatment a month ago. Finally he spoke
"I don't know Dr. Saunders; it just makes me feel sad and scared. Like… there is too much water. It's everywhere and…"
He stopped at this. Clare could tell trying to draw on this memory, the memory he couldn't remember was distressing him.
"It's alright Charlie" she told him, reaching to hold his hand as reassurance.
"But you don't feel that way about the pool though do you? Do you remember? The place where you swim".
Charlie shook his head. Indeed Charlie had been in the pool almost every day since he had been given his first treatment and twice on a couple of occasions. The desire to swim was stronger in this Active than the others, particularly the male Actives who preferred to use the weight room than the pool.
Clare Saunders was not surprised at this admission, in his file she had learnt that Chael Boudreaux had been a member of the Louisianan State Police who had volunteered during the Katrina disaster to help many people survive and flee from the worst parts of the city.
When the levee near the lake ruptured he had found himself trying to save hundreds of people (as well as himself) from the surges of lake water pouring down well known residential streets flooding and drowning all who were caught in its wake.
As the pressure in the sewage systems evaporated causing the sewers to evacuate their contents in the deluge, combined with petroleum and the corpses of the dead Chael had found himself burdened with the impossible task of trying to keep people alive in one of the worst situations in human history; preventing them from drowning in a cesspool of their worst nightmares.
And as the days turned into weeks and still no rescue effort was established Chael was forced into many difficult decisions. He heard about the generators failing in the main New Orleans hospital, causing the deaths of several ITU patients, the horrors of the Superdome and the prison where convicts were only released from their cells when the water was up to their waists.
Each story was worst than the previous one and by the time Chael left the city something had warped in his head.
Finally he left, having survived trench foot and extreme exhaustion he was ordered to leave the city by superiors who didn't have any type of plan at all to help the people and less of an interest in implementing it.
He had never returned, both physically and emotionally.
Clare knew he blamed himself, but this aqua-phobia was limited to pond water, dark bottomless oceans of the stuff. Pool water or showers clearly posed no threat to Charlie so she noted the details alongside those recorded during his initial treatments and left it at that.
She was more interested in the stars though.
Stars had been in Charlie's dreams, his initial art classes ever since he arrived. The teachers had noted this fascination and Clare was curious to see why Charlie's mind was rooted to this image.
"Why do you like stars Charlie?"
Charlie's demeanor changed at once. He sat up and looked like he about to give Clare a show-and-tell essay on stars. Instead he just said "They make me feel better".
"Can you try and remember why they make you feel better?"
"I see them when I go to bed" said Charlie, almost immediately; talking like a little boy eager to give his teacher the right answer.
Clare thought for a second before figuring it out. It was the nightlights glowing off the lamps in the dormitories. Charlie could see stars in his pod lid.
Clare smiled. "They make you feel good Charlie?"
Charlie nodded.
"Well, I don't think that's anything to worry about" she replied scribbling in his file.
She would like to know where this affinity came from, it was quite obviously some memory that Charlie had retained through processing but there was no way for the Active to access such a memory and digging for something that posed no obvious problem to the Active or the House seemed pointless.
She would note the fascination with the stars but not include it in the weekly reports she issued to the Dollhouse staff.
She knew no one read them anyway.
"Ok Charlie, I'm finished for now. Why don't you go and swim in the pool for a while?"
"I like swimming Dr. Saunders" he said.
Charlie smiled, his grin and matted hair framing his face in a way that made him not bad looking thought Clare.
In a southern kind of way at least.
"Goodbye Dr. Saunders".
Charlie went to go but Clare quickly called him back.
"Charlie, can you come here a minute please".
Charlie left a few seconds later, an orange lollipop in his hand, and while Dr. Saunders concluded her report he went to swim in water he wasn't afraid of and to dream of the stars.
**