Mellie only hesitated briefly before inviting the man into her apartment. Certainly he looked suspicious, with his hooded jacket, his exhausted eyes and posture and that cringingly thick Russian accent. But Paul was an FBI agent. He probably had to deal with people like that all the time. This man said he was Paul's friend, and if he was, being polite was probably for the best. If he wasn't, if he'd actually been trying to break into Paul's apartment when Mellie saw him at Paul's door, then it would still be better to invite him in rather than let him wander off into the night. Paul would probably show up pretty soon and he'd want to see the man who'd attempted to break into his apartment.
The fact that the (probably criminal) man was blindingly attractive and had clearly been flirting with her had only a little to do with it.
"The coffee isn't quite made yet," she said, hurrying over to the kitchen where she did, in fact, have coffee brewing. It would be ready in a couple minutes. "He doesn't usually get home this early, but I wanted to have it made just in case. I know it's a bit late in the evening for caffeine, but I thought…"
"It's fine," the man said. "I live on the wild side." He smirked ever so slightly, but it wasn't a mean smirk or a condescending one. Mellie was all too familiar with those. It was almost fond—odd coming from someone she'd only met about five minutes beforehand.
"Of course you do," she said, putting a mug in front of him. It was still empty for now but it kept her hands occupied. He gave her a look. "I mean, if you know Paul."
"Oh, yes. I've known Agent Ballard for a long time now. We're good friends," he said. He was obviously lying through his teeth.
So he probably wasn't actually Paul's friend, which meant this was kind of dangerous after all. But he hadn't tried to kill her yet, which was probably a good sign. Right?
"So," she said. "My name's Mellie." She offered her hand, which he shook, his hand lingering a bit too long in hers. She shivered, unsure whether it was sexy or creepy. Probably creepy. Definitely creepy. (Maybe a little bit sexy? Well, no one ever said she knew how to pick them.)
"I'm Lubov," he said. "It's always nice to meet a friend of Paul's, especially one so charming. I can't remember if he's mentioned you, my apologies. I don't suppose you're his special friend?" He winked.
Mellie flushed. "No. No, we're just…neighbors."
"Neighbors who occasionally have coffee," Lubov said. "Or maybe have coffee regularly? Maybe every night? Maybe Agent Ballard sometimes comes over for other reasons, maybe he enjoys the coffee a bit too much?" He wiggled his eyebrows.
It was the first time someone had implied Mellie was involved with someone in quite a while. Mostly, people seemed to pity her for not having a boyfriend, especially since her last breakup. Every time she mentioned Paul to one of her friends they had this knowing look in their eyes, but it wasn't the nice kind of knowing look. It was the look that said she was making a fool of herself again, and everybody knew it.
"No, just neighbors," Mellie said. "We don't really…do this…that often." Or ever. They talked in the halls, he once in a very great while accepted some leftover food. He never came into her apartment or let her into his, and they never talked about anything personal. Really Mellie had no idea why she liked him. She did, though. For some reason she did.
Lubov nodded sympathetically. "He's uptight."
"Oh, not really."
"He's uptight. Trust me. I know," Lubov said. "A man like him couldn't treat a woman right if his life depended on it." He shook his head. "I don't know why a nice girl like you would go for him?"
"You think it would be better if I went for his friend from Old Navy?" Mellie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sarcasm. I like it."
She brought the coffee pitcher in from the kitchen—it was finally done brewing. Poured Lubov a mug. Poured herself a mug. "How do you really know Paul? Or Agent Ballard, as you call him."
"I told you, we're Old Navy friends…"
"No one would believe that," Mellie said. "You don't even expect me to, do you?" She rested her chin on her hand. "Come on. It's not like I have anyone to tell. If Paul knows already."
Lubov hesitated, then snorted. "It's true. I'm not an excellent liar. What can I say, I'm working on it…"
"So you'll tell me what he's working on?"
"Some kind of insane thing about a dollhouse," Lubov said. "I'm supposed to ask around about it, so I'll ask you. Do you know what the dollhouse is, Mellie?"
"You put toys in it?" Mellie said, scrunching up her face.
Lubov shrugged. "That's about as much as I've gotten from anyone else. But your Paul is insane. He keeps calling me, telling me to find information. I can't give him information I don't have. Frankly, I don't think this information exists. Dollhouse." He snorted again. "Programmable people or something. Actually some people have heard of it, and they all know it's not real."
"The dollhouse," Mellie said, testing the words out. "Well, if Paul thinks it's real, he's probably right."
"No offense, but your Paul is not a very nice man sometimes," Lubov said. "And he's not always right about everything." He flashed a smile. "For example, here he is ignoring this nice woman who wants to give him coffee, give him her heart…"
"Shut up," Mellie said, unable to resist smiling this time.
"I'm serious. You are very kind, very beautiful. You make wonderful coffee. Agent Ballard does not have eyes in his head."
"Shut up," she repeated. "How are you involved with this dollhouse anyways?"
"I'm not!"
"Paul thinks you are. Why would he think that?"
"Because he's an idiot. Sorry," he hastily added, seeing her annoyed expression. "But I really know nothing about any dollhouse. Only your boyfriend thinks I do."
"He's not my boyfriend," Mellie said. "And he must have some reason."
"It's not something to talk about with a nice lady like yourself, hm?" Lubov said. "Let's leave it at that." He sipped his coffee.
Paul probably knew all about Lubov. It wasn't like her impromptu interrogation was actually accomplishing anything. But Mellie was curious. And talking to Lubov was not unpleasant, anyway.
"You're probably with the Russian Mafia," she said flatly.
"You say that like there is only one Russian Mafia," Lubov said. "Things are a lot more complicated than that, you know, and…But I am not part of the Mafia. I am honest citizen."
"Paul wouldn't bother an honest citizen."
"It is like I said. Agent Ballard and I are friends."
"You're still an awful liar."
"Maybe," Lubov said. He paused. "You have a lot of faith in your boyfriend. I hope, for your sake, it is not misplaced."
"He's not my boyfriend," Mellie repeated.
Only this time, Lubov raised an eyebrow at the words. His gaze settled on her lips with a quiet certainty that made Mellie draw in a quick breath. Even her ex-boyfriend had never looked at her with so much intent.
"Not your boyfriend, hm?" He leaned forward, closer to her. His eyes moved up to meet hers, and he smiled.
The phone rang.
Cursing, Mellie ran to pick it up, but when she did, no one answered her greeting. When she returned to the table, Lubov was still staring at her, with the same unbroken intent. But the moment was broken. Now that she thought about it, his gaze was kind of creepy.
"I think maybe you should leave," she said.
Slowly, Lubov got up from the table. "Perhaps. It was nice meeting you, Mellie." He patted her shoulder. "You'll give my message to Agent Ballard, hm?"
She nodded.
"Maybe I see you again."
/…/…/
Adelle watched the surveillance tape twice over before turning back to Topher. "Concerning."
"I think you mean adorable," Topher said. "Come on! Look at those two. Look at the way he looks at her. I don't even watch rom coms, and I think it's cute. Tell me I'm not delusional."
"Mellie shouldn't be attracted to anyone except Paul Ballard," Adelle said. "But she was definitely interested for a moment there. Good call on phoning to intervene."
Topher said, "That was November's handler. I would have let them go at it."
"You're lucky November's handler thought to step in, then," Adelle said. She pursed her lips. "Why was Mellie interested?"
Topher shrugged. "Well, we all know Victor's popular with the ladies. And Mellie has a bit of a thing for dangerous men. Still, I'm sure it was nothing serious. Even though it was fun to watch."
"Hm. And why would Lubov be interested in a woman like Mellie?"
"Well, you know. A troubled soul. Too many women, too much vodka. Night after night he dreams of a nice girl and a steady, safe job where he wouldn't have to worry about getting shot. Mellie's very safe. It doesn't hurt that she's November and November is…" Topher whistled.
"Lubov's imprint doesn't need to be romantic," Adelle said. "He's a serial womanizer and a member of the Borradine family. None of that requires hidden longings for a good woman."
"Yes…but is there any reason for him not to be romantic? He's a nice guy. Let him have his secret dreams."
"He can dream whatever you want," Adelle said tartly. "But he's not to interact with November again. See if you can adjust the imprint and erase the interest. Although I suppose this charade won't continue for much longer." She paused. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Topher said. "Easy."
"Good." Adelle smiled. "If you like rom coms, I'm sure you'll still have fun seeing how Mellie deals with Agent Ballard."
"I just told you I don't." It was something different, watching two personalities he'd created in isolation come together with such surprising chemistry. There was just something sweet about it.
"Then don't enjoy it. Just do what has to be done."
Adelle left. With a sigh, Topher went back to looking at Lubov's imprint and figuring out the necessary adjustments. No romance for Victor—at least not this week.
/.../.../
/.../.../
/.../.../
AN: Do I ship Victor and November? Um...not really. Do I ship Lubov and Mellie? Yes. Yes I do. Their one scene together was hilarious.
My first fic in the Dollhouse fandom. Reviews would be much appreciated!