The Unabridged Laurence Dominic

by rogoblue

A new client comes to the Dollhouse you can picture her as Summer Glau if you like with an interesting request—she wants to ask Laurence Dominic a question, causing a firestorm that no one other than Topher could have predicted. A new client comes t

Story: The Unabridged Laurence Dominic

Rating: M

Author: Rogoblue

Summary: A new client comes to the Dollhouse (you can picture her as Summer Glau if you like) with an interesting request—she wants to ask Laurence Dominic a question, causing a firestorm that no one other than Topher could have predicted.

Spoilers: Season 1 but not Epitaph 1 which I have not seen.

Disclaimers: The toys are Joss Whedon's. The idea is mine.

Dedication: To Erica, again, for blazing the trail and keeping the faith.

Pairing: Dominic/OC (somewhat), Dominic/Echo (sort of), Dominic/Adelle (hints of)

"What can we do for you, Ms. Krane?" Adelle DeWitt asked, her second or third best meet and greet smile gracing her face.

"I need to speak with this man," said the tall brunette with expressive brown eyes who proffered what looked to be an identification badge.

Adelle DeWitt found herself staring at a decent photograph of Laurence Dominic. How did this woman acquire Laurence's ID? Is she NSA? Would they be so bold as to send an operative here in this decidedly noncovert manner?

"Where did you get this?" Adelle asked, mutely handing it to Boyd Langton, noting his raised eyebrow.

Meeting Adelle's gaze, Langton mouthed, "Alpha?" to which Adelle replied with a harsh smile and curt nod.

A blush formed on Ms. Krane's prominent cheekbones. "I doubt you'll believe me. I have trouble believing it myself. After years of searching, I got handed a gift."

"A … gift?" Adelle prompted, allowing her curiosity to show.

Ms. Krane took a deep breath before she said, "It came in the mail in a plain envelope. No return address. Postmarked from Idaho."

Surely you jest. "You received this via the United States Postal Service?" There was really nothing to say to the calm nod of assent. "I see. What, then, is your business with Mr. Dominic?"

"I need to ask him a question."

"Which is?" Adelle asked, voice disarmingly casual.

"It's personal." Ms. Krane smiled. "And private. And I'm willing to pay twice your standard fee for the answer."

Adelle took Ms. Krane's measure. The younger woman regarded her in much the same manner. What will this woman do with Laurence, I wonder? "Very well, Ms. Krane. Return tomorrow at this time and we will present Mr. Dominic for questioning."

Smiling with what appeared to be genuine pleasure, Ms. Krane stood and offered her hand to Ms. DeWitt. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

* * *

Laurence Dominic opened what he fervently hoped were his own eyes. A glance at his hands offered promise. They looked like his. And they haven't restrained me, or Victor posing as me or whatever that was, every which way this time either. That's a start. Fighting the urge to talk, to interact, to generate a response from someone else, Dominic allowed himself to move only his head. Topher, of course. Adelle. Langton. And … Paul Ballard? Interesting. No doctor. Also interesting but I have to throw in alarming along with that.

"Tell me about Simone Krane, Mr. Dominic," Adelle DeWitt demanded.

Still mad. Holds a grudge, that one. "Who?" Dominic asked after toying ever so briefly with refusing to respond. The urge to communicate was simply too great.

"Simone Krane."

Even though his reply was set immediately, Dominic allowed himself a few moments to reflect. "I don't know anyone by that name."

"Mr. Langton," Adelle prompted, making a sharp gesture with her right hand.

Boyd Langton stepped forward and presented a photograph for viewing.

Dominic mouthed, "Wow." A tall, svelte woman with long wavy brown hair stared at him from the photo. Her cheekbones were high and well defined. Perfectly arched eyebrows framed soft brown eyes. A small well formed nose and full, not quite pouty lips completed the picture. "I definitely do not know this woman."

"But you'd like to," Ballard said, wry smile sliding into a smirk.

"Wouldn't you?" Dominic asked. Laurence gave Ballard credit for honesty as he nodded his agreement.

Adelle leaned over the chair. "She is convinced she knows you. She has questions for you of a personal nature. She is willing to pay twice our fee to ask them. Explain."

"I would be honored to answer Simone's personal questions."

Narrowing her eyes, Adelle said, "First name basis, Mr. Dominic."

"Just trying it out." Taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, Dominic shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I owe her money."

Leaning closer, nearly nose to nose with Dominic, Adelle said, "Out of morbid curiosity, I am willing to allow this meeting to take place, so long as you agree to play nice. Do I have your word, Laurence, however little that is worth?"

"You do, even though you don't need it because you'll be monitoring every syllable of the conversation with these two," his eyes flicked from Langton to Ballard, "at the ready should my behavior fall short of your standards."

Adelle faced Langton. "Make him presentable. He has a meeting in one hour." When she reached the door of Topher's domain, Adelle looked back over her shoulder. "Make no mistake, Mr. Dominic, a choice to cross me will be to your detriment.

* * *

Straightening his tie one final time, Laurence Dominic stepped into Adelle DeWitt's office. The gorgeous brunette in the deep green silk, sleeveless, mid-thigh length dress smiled at him. Smiled at him in a pleased, glad to see you again way. Baffled, Laurence said, "Ms. Krane."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "You don't remember me."

There was no hint of the interrogative in her words. "No," he admitted.

She sighed. "I'm not surprised. Truly. I was in a far different place when we met." A wry smile appeared as she looked him in the eye. "You asked me once if I was a member of the royal family of Monaco."

Dominic winced. "Sorry. I would like to think I'd have done better than that. Must have had a lousy day."

Simone regarded him for a moment and then laughed. "No, it wasn't that sort of conversation. You weren't trying to pick me up. Although you did, more or less."

"You want to run that by me one more time? Slower with explanatory footnotes?"

Instead she picked up a garment bag that had been resting on Adelle's coffee table. "Catch," she said. He did. "Open it," Simone suggested.

"Curiouser and curiouser," Dominic mumbled, unzipping the bag and rummaging within, removing a battered, black distressed leather jacket. Seconds of inspection revealed it to have once been his. "Where did you get this?" he demanded, eyes blazing. "Where?"

* * *

"Mr. Langton?" Adelle DeWitt asked.

"He's fine. Under control." Langton gestured toward the screen.

"Agreed," Ballard offered. "Genuinely surprised, though. That's not an act."

* * *

Simone reached toward the jacket and touched the leather. Meeting Laurence's eyes, she said, "You gave it to me."

"I—?" Dominic stopped and stared at Simone, trying to reconcile the woman before him with the one he recalled. Memories flooded his awareness and he gripped the jacket in both fists. "You … things seem to have improved for you since … then."

"Immensely."

They regarded each other for a moment that seemed to stretch out forever. "It's been a long time," he offered, the need to talk overwhelming the conviction that he had nothing of note to say.

"What ever happened to her?" Simone asked.

Tilting his head to one side, Dominic asked, "Who?"

"The woman who was reaming you a new one via cellular phone when I stepped out onto the balcony."

A slight smile tugged at Laurence's mouth. "She's gone on to live a nice life."

"Too bad about the phone."

He shrugged. "Had to get rid of it."

"Most people would toss it in the trash can, not off of a building."

"I'm not most people."

Another too long to be completely comfortable silence greeted Laurence's statement. "I apologized for disturbing you," Simone said.

"I said … um … it was a big balcony or something to that effect."

"I was crying." Simone stared into his eyes. "You asked me if I was all right, kind of reluctantly, if I'm not mistaken. Like you felt you had to for some reason."

"You shook your head. Once. More an angry motion than a sad one." Something flared in her eyes, prompting Dominic to ask, "What?"

"Nothing." She fought off a smile but wasn't entirely successful. "When you asked if I needed someone to give me a ride home you looked as though you'd rather be having a root canal."

Dominic looked inward for a few moments before saying, "It had been a long day, week, month, something. Complications I didn't need. But … you did the whole angry reply thing again. This time in the affirmative."

"You told me to get my stuff and I said I had nothing to get."

"Which explained why you were standing out on that balcony wearing next to nothing risking pneumonia. And why," Dominic said, holding out the jacket toward her, "I gave you my jacket." Mentally shaking himself, he said, "Glad we cleared that up."

* * *

"What did I miss?" Topher asked, breezing into the observation room.

"They have met but it seems the young lady was in a bad way at the time," Adelle offered. "Do be quiet and pay attention, Topher. I'd prefer not to miss anything that might be relevant." Turning to Langton, Adelle said, "I don't believe I've ever seen Laurence this … still. Comment, Mr. Langton?"

"He's being careful. Mindful that we're watching, probably."

Paul Ballard frowned. "He's tense, wound up and managing the adrenaline rush by deliberately not moving. It's not easy to do."

* * *

Simone picked up the story. "You helped me into your jacket and we went back inside. The party was winding down and we skirted the edge of the crowd and left. I was so relieved when we got to your car that I just huddled in the passenger seat."

"I had to ask you where we were going," Laurence recalled.

"I gave you a business card and off we went." Smiling at the recollection, she said, "It wasn't long after that you asked me if I was a member of the royal family of Monaco."

"I was trying to figure out why we were being followed."

"It was scary," Simone said, hugging herself. "I'd never been in a car chase before."

Dominic decided to try a light tone. "And since?"

She laughed. "No."

"A singular moment for you then."

Cocking her head, she admitted, "A unique experience to this point in my life, yes." Simone shuddered. "But there were two vehicles in pursuit and we were cut off. You told me to stay in the car but to move to the driver's seat just in case." She frowned. "I never did think to ask just in case of what." Shaking her head, she continued, "You got out and confronted those guys who were peers of a sort. They knew you. You knew them. And they told you about me."

Focused on her face, Dominic said, "I told them I was taking you home. They said I was taking you from home. That you were … ah …"

"Taylor Dayton's side piece." Lowering her eyes, Simone said, "Side piece number two to be precise. His wife looked the other way while he flaunted us to his cronies. And sometimes she watched. She was a piece of work."

"He wasn't?" Laurence couldn't resist asking.

"Goes without saying, doesn't it?" Taking a deep breath, Simone continued, "They said that all would be forgiven if you handed me over—like a piece of luggage. Just a misunderstanding. Could happen to anyone. Damsel seemingly in distress and all that. No one, you in particular, needed to get hurt." Looking up at him, reliving the intense emotions of that moment, spearing Dominic with a gaze of frightening intensity, she asked, "Why? Why did you do it?"

Dominic looked away. "What does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

Silence stretched too long for Dominic to withstand. "I don't remember," Laurence said. "It was a long time ago." When he risked a peek at Simone, she was smiling—a cold, harsh smile.

"Try harder," she demanded, folding her arms across her chest. "Tell me why."

* * *

"I knew he was a hardass," Topher moaned, "but I never thought he was a completely unfeeling bastard." Looking around the room, he added, "Really. I didn't."

* * *

"Laurence … um … may I call you Laurence?"

"Sure."

She stepped even closer and put her hands on his shoulders. "You gave me my life back when you dropped those keys in my hand and kept those guys from following me," Simone asserted. "I'd appreciate you doing me the courtesy of telling me why."

His attempt to turn away was forestalled when her hands slid along his shoulders to frame his face. A deep breath and heavy sigh later, Laurence said, "I don't imagine you'd be satisfied with 'I hadn't done my good deed for the day yet.'"

"No."

* * *

"Color me relieved," Topher said. "I really hate being totally wrong." Scanning the crowd again, he added, "Have I mentioned that?"

"That is quite enough, Topher," Adelle said.

Topher's widening eyes returned Adelle's to the screen, just in time to witness Laurence Dominic being well and truly kissed by their newest client.

* * *

"I've been waiting over three years to say 'Thank you,'" Simone whispered, leaving her hands clasped behind Laurence's neck.

"Eloquently done."

Simone laughed and inclined her head in acknowledgement of the compliment. "Back to my question."

"You're relentless."

Looking to her left, Simone said, "I may be relentless, but I am humane. I've arranged to feed you while you considered my question."

The spread was impressive. Dominic was hungry but wasn't certain how his system would handle solid food. Watching Alexis pour, he reflected that white wine was far from his preferred alcoholic beverage and tried not to think about how good it felt to know that about himself—to know anything about himself for absolute certain after the attic. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked up and asked, "What do you do?"

She seated herself at Adelle's couch. "I thought I was the one asking the questions."

Opting to sit next to her rather than across the coffee table, he shrugged. "Forget it. I was just curious about what you were heading toward when we parted ways."

Buttering a roll that actually looked like it was made with white flour, Simone said, "I'm a psychiatrist." She grinned at his raised eyebrow. "That surprises you?"

"Not really, I guess." Deciding to risk a roll and some interesting looking white cheese, he regarded her closely. "Shrinks probably have just as many problems as the rest of us."

"If not more." Simone aimed a small smile his way. "The term 'shrink' doesn't bother me, just in case you were wondering." Leaning slightly forward, she added, "Which you undoubtedly were."

Voice low, eyes serious, Dominic asked, "Were you going to jump?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"You had that look about you. White knuckled grip on the railing. Despair in every movement." Arming himself with a puzzled frown, Laurence continued, "An angry despair, though. Not a sad one. Again, that was … unexpected. And you agreed to take a ride from a perfect stranger at a time when LA was rife with stalkers with all sorts of nasty agendas."

Simone sat up straight, leaning back on the couch to put more distance between them. "My turn, Laurence. What do you do?"

"I'm … ah … kind of retired."

"From what?"

"I'm not a shrink too, if you were wondering." A slight smile preceded, "Which you definitely were."

"Touche. And right back at you." Simone gestured toward him with her roll. "Why does whether I was going to jump matter?"

After the briefest of pauses, he replied, "It does and it doesn't."

"Does and doesn't?" she prompted, crossing her legs.

Eyes following the motion, Dominic said, "If you did, that would've put the exclamation point on an already horrendous day. In that sense, it mattered. It didn't really matter with regard to escaping the situation you were in, just a decision as to method. So … I guess it mattered to me but not to you. Sort of."

Simone stared at Laurence for a few moments before a knowing smile appeared. "You're awfully proud of that answer, aren't you?"

"Seemed sufficiently convoluted."

Eyes hardening slightly, she said, "And I can tell you the exact moment you realized you knew the answer to my question and promptly decided not to tell me."

Dominic blinked, took refuge behind his wine glass and waited.

"You looked down, took a single sharp breath and shook your head ever so slightly, looked back up and said 'It does and doesn't.'"

He frowned, eyes flitting around the room.

"And now you're editing. Please don't edit, Laurence. Tell me why you did it. I'd really like to know."

"You're scary, you know that. Truly frightening." Simone didn't rise to the bait. Placing his wine glass back on the table, Laurence said, "You do realize this isn't a private conversation?"

"I suspected as much given the fine tooth comb with which your jacket was searched."

"Maybe I just don't feel like sharing with the wider audience."

* * *

Topher stared at the screen, humming a tune he'd heard on his random IPod shuffle that morning. He was peripherally aware Adelle DeWitt was on the phone and Langton and Ballard were both frowning.

This is intense. This has what my graduate advisor liked to call realizable unrealized potential. Ah, the lovely sound of opportunity knocking down my door.

* * *

Simone's lecture on not worrying about what other people think was interrupted by a sharp rap on the door followed by a young security man carrying a tray. "Sir, ma'am," he said, nodding in their general direction, as he placed the tray on the table. Evan Williams single barrel bourbon, an ice bucket and two glasses. Without another word the man left the room. Dominic laughed.

"What's so funny?" Simone asked. When he gestured at the tray, she considered. "Your brand?" He nodded. She prompted, "So …?"

"I think that's another vote for answer the damn question," Laurence said.

"Oh. Good. In that case, I'm pouring. One cube or two?"

Dominic held up two fingers and waited for her to return with his bourbon before he relinquished the wine he'd barely touched.

When he didn't speak, Simone took his chin in hand and turned his face toward her. "In the space of a half an hour, I went from contemplating suicide to freedom from a horrid situation—admittedly, a horrid situation partially of my own making, but one I could no longer tolerate or break free of on my own. Car chase notwithstanding, that is the singular moment in my life and I want to understand it." Releasing his chin, likely upon realizing how tight her grip had become, she whispered, "I need to."

"It's complicated, Simone."

"I have all evening." She glanced at his plate. "You really ought to eat something other than rolls and cheese, you know."

"I'm not sure if I can." Shrugging off her obvious shock, he muttered, "But that's another story."

"Please, Laurence."

She really knows how to use those big brown eyes. Jesus. "I'll have to give you some background or else I don't think the explanation will make any sense." Tearing his dinner roll into small pieces to give his hands something to do, Dominic took a deep breath and began. "I am, or was, I guess, an undercover agent for the NSA and have been since I graduated from UNC. What that means is that I've spent my adult life playing roles. I've been …"

He paused a moment to consider which personas to feature. "Um … I've been a lead programmer on a Top Secret project run out of the private sector. Advanced weapons systems designed to out star war Star Wars. I headed up the stealth arm." Laurence slouched, leaned back against the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table and popped a piece of cheese in his mouth. "Late nights and take out, you know?"

Simone nodded. "What sort of guy was …?"

"David. Never Dave. Always David. Sarcastic sense of humor, but funny in general, you know, not at someone else's expense. Usually. Had a serious job he never took very seriously."

"Healthy disrespect for authority?"

Dominic snorted. "That's a nice way of putting it." He shrugged, a sharp, harsh motion. "The NSA uses the shit we created." Glancing at Simone, he smiled, "Getting two for the price of one doesn't suck." Laurence placed his feet back on the floor, reached for his bourbon, thought better of it. "Then there was Dane. An actor. Off Broadway, mostly." As he spoke, both with his mouth and his hands, Laurence prowled the office. "He was fun. Talked constantly. Every once in a while had something to say. Got mad fast but got over it faster. Could make anyone laugh. Try anything once. Except maybe suffer for his art."

"More recently," Laurence continued, assuming a ramrod straight at ease posture, "Chief of Security of this place. Middle management. Aggressive. Serious. Either too aggressive or too serious for most people. Sense of humor, if any, sarcastic running to caustic. Always on alert." Shaking his head, he added, "Laurence was generally wrapped just a little too tight to be comfortable around, unless—well, that's neither here nor there."

"So, anyway," he concluded, "that gives you an idea of what my life was like."

Simone said, "Do you realize what you just did?"

"Um … told you about some of the people I've been?" Laurence asked in an 'Is this a trick question' tone.

"You didn't just tell me. You showed me."

"Showed you?" he asked, taking the hint of her hand patting the couch next to her and sitting back down.

"Your body language completely changed. Your speech patterns as well. Choice of words. Gestures. Way of moving. The whole nine yards. You were David, then Dane and then Laurence."

Tossing a piece of roll from hand to hand, he said, "I guess it all just came back."

* * *

"I've never seen anything like that," Ballard said, looking first to Langton and then to Adelle for confirmatory nods.

Ignore the little science guy, as usual.

"Was it all unconscious, do you think?" Adelle DeWitt asked in a small, shadow of her usual confident tone. "Instinctual? Somewhat akin to muscle memory?"

Before either Neanderthal could comment, Topher said, "That part of it was." Grinning, he added, "They don't hardwire many brains that way and, if they do, the software isn't developed to its potential."

"Explain, Topher." Again, Adelle's voice lacked the command Topher was accustomed to hearing and she looked to be biting her lip.

"I can't. Not really. The best I can do without scanning his brain and studying it for what would probably be years is to speculate that Laurence has a really advanced capacity for empathy."

"Empathy?" Ballard asked, not bothering to hide his skepticism, leaning a hip against a high table.

"It means—."

"I know what it means, Topher."

"To play roles like that—continuously with no script, he'd have to really get his audience. For that, he needs ultra-empath power."

Laurence Dominic's laugh pulled their attention back to the screen.

* * *

"That's another first for me," Simone said, smiling wryly. "It isn't common for a man to laugh when a woman says she finds him fascinating."

Laurence tossed the piece of roll he'd been playing with up and caught it in his mouth. Chuckling again, he asked, "But which one?"

"Pardon?"

"David, Dane or Laurence?" A slight frown preceded him saying, "Or the player to be named later." Retrieving his bourbon, Dominic added, "The me that's between roles at the moment."

"The gestalt."

He shook his head. "There isn't a gestalt. It's a serial process, not parallel."

"Will you humor me for a few moments before getting back to answering my question?"

"It's your show, Simone."

Placing her hand on his shoulder, Simone fingered the silk of his jacket. "David wouldn't be caught dead in something like this, would he?"

"Funerals or weddings."

"He was shy around people, especially women."

Laurence looked her in the eye. "That doesn't sound like a question." When Simone simply waited, he nodded. "Until he got to know them."

"Social circle limited to people from work and anyone they introduced him to?"

He smiled in appreciation of her emphasis of the interrogative. "Pretty much."

"Was Dane gay?"

"Equal opportunity."

Simone closed her eyes. "Yes, bisexual makes better sense. Loved The Tempest. Hated Hamlet. Liked intimate theater, one or two man shows, even though he professed to be a big production guy."

"Have I mentioned that you are seriously frightening in the last fifteen minutes or so?" Heart rate accelerated, Dominic took a few slow steady breaths in a struggle for calm.

"Consider it mentioned," Simone said. "I'm thinking one significant fling with each sex—one or both of which had to do with Dane's actual assignment for the NSA."

Lifting his bourbon, "I think I'd have had a heart attack if you'd added one phrase to that statement, because we're bordering on eerily weird here."

"What phrase?"

"Now that I think of it, I'm not sure my phrase fits your sentence. But I know I'd have had some major health issue if you'd somehow known that both of the … um … flings occurred at the same time."

She grinned. "Like I said—fascinating."

"So you like Dane best."

"I'm not sure yet. On to Laurence."

Dominic sat up straight.

"Excellent posture," she noted. "Moves fluidly. Economically also. Probably comfortable standing close to other people." Simone leaned toward Laurence. "All the better to loom, if the situation warrants some of that aggression you mentioned. Obviously likes nice clothes. Eclectic taste in ties, music and books. Not really into movies. Might watch 24 if he didn't find the whole idea clichéd."

"How in the hell do you get all of that?"

Blushing slightly, Simone admitted, "Observation and educated guesses. Laurence is more constrained that either David or Dane. He can't play interactive games on-line like David or do stand up like Dane, yet he has to express himself somehow. Ties are easy. Books and music were flat out guesses."

"So … what about the fourth guy? The one without a name."

"You have a name."

Interesting. She's stalling for time to figure out what she's going to say. Didn't need to do that for the others. "A name I haven't used it in so long it would take me forever to remember to answer to it."

"We'll stick with Laurence then." Rolling her eyes at his smirk, she said, "Laurence number 2, if we must, but never Larry. That just isn't you." With a pat on his shoulder, she said, "First off, this Laurence would lose the jacket and tie. I'm thinking rolling the shirtsleeves up a few times also."

Without a word, Laurence adjusted his wardrobe as instructed.

"You have a decent sense of humor that doesn't fall into any ready classification. There's a heavy dose of sarcasm but that's far from all. An excellent vocabulary. An ease of motion. You're comfortable in your own body."

You got that right!

Clearly noting his reaction, she asked, "What?" She watched him closely but accepted his refusal to answer her latest question. "You like sports, probably play at least two of the big four reasonably well. Will watch them all. Given the UNC connection, I'm sensing a preference for college basketball. Perhaps even a passion." Simone drained her white wine. "Let me see. Music, pretty much across the board." Narrowing her eyes, she considered. "Not opera though." Simone smiled broadly and regarded Laurence with rank speculation.

"What?"

"Can we try a small experiment?"

"I've already said it's your dime, Simone, but I don't know. Something in your tone makes me … hesitate."

"C'mon, you live once, Laurence." His chuckle gave her pause. "What's so funny?"

"'You live once' has some significance to … um … Laurence number one." Taking another piece of whatever white cheese had been served, he asked, "What do you want?"

"I'm going to ask you to do something, the same thing, as David, Dane, and the two Laurences. Will you?"

He nibbled on his cheese. "Depends on what, I guess."

"Kiss me."

"Oh yeah. I can do that."

* * *

"How can a man kiss differently?" Paul Ballard asked. "Differently enough so that a woman would think he was a different guy?"

"Like that," Topher said, gesturing to the screen, approaching it in fascination. "Exactly like that."

Boyd Langton focused on Topher. "Which one will she prefer?" he asked.

"Him," Topher said.

"Which him?" Adelle DeWitt asked.

"Laurence number two. The current him." Topher turned an ear to ear grin at Adelle.

"How can you be so sure, Topher?" she asked.

"Because he's figured out what she wants and will deliver it as requested." Gesturing grandly to the screen where the experiment was being played out, Topher said, "Watch."

* * *

Dominic waited for a few moments but couldn't resist asking, "Do we have a winner?"

More than slightly disheveled, Simone pulled him back toward her. "As you said, 'oh yeah." She made him wait. Unexpectedly he did. "You."

"Which me?"

"You you. Laurence number 2."

He smiled without a hint of a smirk. "Good."

Dropping a small kiss on his lips, she whispered, "Now back to my question."

"Again with the relentless. Which, I guess, is what makes relentless relentless." Rummaging for something else in the food category that he might be able to keep down, Laurence asked, "Where was I?"

"You'd described how you'd played several roles, leaving some out, I presume, to give me an idea of what your life was like."

Nodding, he said, "Now we proceed to what my life was like at the time I met you. Or … a bit before to give you the context for my mind set. Ok?" Her peck of agreement on his cheek made him smile. "I was given an assignment in security for a billionaire to provide real background for my resume for the Dollhouse job. I hated it but it was easy. And, to be frank, I thought the Dollhouse was an urban legend and that I was wasting a lot of time chasing shadows. So I got sloppy. When I met someone I clicked with, I made friends. I met a woman I wanted to sleep with, did and ended up having those dangerous conversations."

"Don't stop there. That isn't fair."

"Oh, c'mon, you know the ones. Do you want to have kids? How many bedrooms should our house have? White or black tux for the wedding?"

All this time, all these words and I've surprised her what—twice now?

"Which color?" Simone whispered.

"What do you think? I'd look like crap in white."

"I don't know," she said, fingering his ivory silk shirt.

"Top to bottom? No."

"And then?"

"I got the interview for this and I guess they get the 'What the fuck' reaction a lot, because no one even blinked an eye at my stunned disbelief that this place actually existed in something other than overactive imaginations." Settling on some carrot sticks and broccoli with some kind of dip that smelled good, Laurence resumed. "It wasn't long after I got the job that I appreciated what I'd gotten into and the risk it presented to anyone close to me. If things went south, either I screwed up something badly enough or was exposed as an NSA agent, someone would tie up the loose ends." He closed his eyes and sank back into the couch cushions. "There're some things you can't bring home."

"True enough," Simone whispered.

"Also, to do what I do, play roles to a purpose, that is, there are parameters. Orders to be carried out with respect to the NSA and the employer of the moment. Expectations to be met of everyone you interact with. Fit in. Play along. Fly underneath the radar. It's stressful, particularly at first. When the persona is fresh or I'm unfamiliar with the people involved." Laurence regarded Simone with nearly dangerous intensity. "I'd been here four, maybe six weeks when I met you. It was still new. I had to jettison everyone from my past and I was resisting it. Maybe I was tired of being alone. Maybe I was just tired. I'm not sure." Laurence's voice picked up speed. "But I was tired or tired of something, nervous, scared, stressed every which way."

"And you're in that place right now," Simone interjected, taking Laurence's left hand in hers. "You've put yourself there—heart rate up, adrenaline flowing, too much energy to contain. It's making you fidgety by the way."

"I …," Laurence took a deep breath, sensing at a deep level the rightness of what Simone had said. "I guess, yeah."

"Do you need a break?"

"No," he breathed. "No, I think I'm kind of hitting my stride, actually." Her smile of encouragement prompted him to continue. "Anyway, I'm in this hyped up frame of mind when I see this pretty woman crying on a balcony, looking ready to leap, and I think, 'Fuck. That's just what I need—some LA bitch whose boob job didn't get her the part after all taking a dive right in front of me.'"

"I never had—."

"I know. Recall the stress level. Recall the cell phone toss. Clearly not thinking … um … clearly." Her skeptical look made him smile. "Yours are without doubt what you were blessed with." A small smile from her made it fine to resume. "Then you kind of … I don't know … hunched over ... like you were expecting to be hit and I spoke before I thought it through and asked if you were all right. I got a 'No' to that and wondered what to do. And, I admit, I offered you a ride fully expecting you to say 'No' given what was going on in LA at the time." He munched some broccoli. "But you didn't so I was stuck. And you were freezing so I had to give up my favorite jacket."

Simone murmured, "Sorry about that."

"I did get another one and wore it on occasion, but it wasn't the same."

"Off topic." Simone softened her words with a smile that took Dominic's breath away.

"Left party. Got into car. Received marching orders as to destination. Asked about Monaco. Run off of the road. Barked orders as to your placement in the car. So … I got out and had my conversation with Peter, who so desperately needed an ass kicking. And, that, whether you believe it or not, was part of the reason. He needed it and he'd be so embarrassed by losing you that he'd be reluctant to drop more style points by ganging up on me so he'd tell his guys to hold back." Dominic lifted Simone's hand to his lips. "That, my dear, was most sincerely fun."

He held up his free hand to forestall comment. "However, the main thrust of the reason was this. You weren't connected to anything I was enmeshed in. There were no orders to follow. There were no expectations to be met. There was nothing I had to do to fit in. Peter wanted me to play along and I disliked him immensely. There was no radar to fly under. I was a free agent. For the first time in forever, I could do what I damn well pleased. So I did."

After a full minute, Simone said, "Well, that's half of the answer."

"What? That's more words than Laurence number one spoke in three months! How the hell is that half an answer?"

* * *

Adelle DeWitt chuckled. All three men in the room looked her way. "Why?" she murmured, chuckling again.

"Why?" Langton repeated.

"Why, Mr. Langton, was giving her the keys what Mr. Dominic damn well pleased?"

Simone confirmed Adelle's suspicions seconds later.

* * *

"Oh, I get it." Dominic grinned at Simone. "You know the answer to that question or you should if you've been paying attention."

"I'd like to hear it from you."

He decided to focus on his carrot sticks and garlic ranch dip for a while. Her patience exceeded his capacity for stalling. "You reminded me of me."

"Excuse me?"

"You were scared, worried, used up." Laurence kissed the inside of Simone's wrist. "I don't know what your situation was exactly but I'm betting I'm right." Tears welled up in her eyes as she nodded. "You also had no one to turn to. You gave me the business card of your lawyer for Christ's sake. I wasn't going to deliver you to your worried mother or your best friend Candace or you lover Raphael. I was taking you to a downtown office building that was deserted at that hour by everyone other than the janitorial staff." He paid her the respect of looking her in the eye when he said, "Like me, you had no one who cared whether you lived or died other than someone who was paid to." He took a deep breath. "So I helped you because I could and because I was maybe trying to build up some good karma in case I needed someone to do the same for me someday." A sad smile flitted across his lips. "And that, Simone, is the rest of your answer." He frowned. "It's strange. If you'd have caught up with me the next day, I wouldn't have had a prayer of articulating this to you. It's only after … everything that's happened since that I get it. Bizarre."

Simone gently turned his head back toward her. "Laurence, you're in trouble. Tell me what happened."

"Is that within your mandate?"

She stroked his cheek. "If it isn't, I'll throw more money at them."

Laurence smiled. "Money isn't the issue. Security is. I ought to know; I used to run the department." Eyes scanning the room, focusing briefly on each of the camera locations, he said, "If I tell you what happened, you'll have information that is far from in the public domain. I don't want to put you in a position where they'll feel they need to make sure of your silence in a way you don't like."

"I won't disclose anything you tell me." Simone raised her voice and annunciated clearly. "I view this exchange as inviolate as doctor-patient confidentiality. I'm not taking notes so there is no written record of this conversation. Nor will I memorialize my impressions in any way once I leave the premises."

The ensuing silence was deafening. Simone was waiting; Laurence wasn't quite sure what would constitute the equivalent of call brand bourbon in this case. "I'm not sure that will be enough," he finally ventured.

"We'll see," Simone murmured, turning her attention to her plate of food and glass of wine. "You should eat some more before I prod you into talking again."

Eyes never leaving Simone, Dominic complied.

A few minutes later, a young woman entered the room, crossed it, put two copies of a confidentiality agreement in front of Simone. Handing her a pen, the young woman said, "I'd be happy to explain any of the provisions to you."

"I've had experience with these agreements," Simone countered, scanning the document quickly before signing both copies. "Tell Ms. DeWitt I appreciate her understanding and tolerance of my curiosity." Smiling at Dominic, Simone said, "I've been told I can be relentless."

* * *

"This should be fascinating," Adelle DeWitt murmured. "How often do you get full exposition of an event such as this?"

"Are you sure it's wise to let him speak frankly?" Langton asked. "Aren't we simply borrowing trouble?"

"She seems honest enough," Ballard offered. "And she seems to genuinely like Dominic. If we want this information, trusting her with it strikes me as worth the risk."

Topher ignored all of the noise from the others. Because that's what it was—just noise. The interesting bits were being played out on the screen before him in an amalgam of words, expressions and gestures.

* * *

"That's inhumane!"

The horror in Simone's voice in response to Laurence's description of the attic was oddly gratifying, something which made his next words flow awkwardly from his mouth. "It wasn't so bad, really. Once I got past the panic, which wasn't easy by any stretch of the imagination, it was … well, kind of peaceful."

"Peaceful? How in the hell can anything like that be peaceful?"

Her haunted eyes inspired him toward articulateness. "When I accepted I didn't know who the hell I was, I made things up. I constructed personas. Professional athlete—pick a sport, any sport. CEO of a fortune 500 company, there are 500 to choose from. Auto mechanic living in a small town in Kansas, who knows how many of those towns there are. Whatever. The exercise passed the time and while I was imagining, things would resonate with me. When that happened, I knew—I just knew—I had a decent jump shot. I could play electric guitar if I wanted to and practiced forever to get my chops back. I could fire a gun and hit what I intended to hit, land any Judo move I tried, hack virtually any computer system given enough time and caffeine, a lot of other things. And simple things too. Like liking the color blue and hating disco. Having that information, even that small amount … made a difference." Extricating his hand from Simone's only to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer, he whispered, "I guess you'd say I have fewer identity issues than most people.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." He shifted slightly to remove the very small distance remaining between them on the couch. "You didn't do it. You didn't fuck up, like I did, or order the disposition of my person."

"What a waste," Simone said, planting a gentle yet compelling kiss on his lips.

"A … waste?"

"Tell me, Laurence," she demanded in a tone that required a response. "How difficult is it to fire a full magazine at a moving target you have no intention of hitting while giving every impression you're desperately trying?"

Tension flowed into Laurence's shoulders. "Um … after the first one or two, it isn't hard. The trick is getting the pieces in motion."

"What about the first one or two?"

"People who are right handed tend to flow to the right. Except when they go left." He shrugged, a more difficult motion with tight shoulders. "You have to guess. It helps some if you telegraph what you intend—aim a bit high and to one side to encourage movement in the opposite direction."

"And after that you play the room?"

"Or the room plays you," he growled. To her raised eyebrow, he muttered, "Cheap ass safety glass."

Simone laughed, a full bodied, truly amused sound. "Oh, I can actually hear that thought." She leveled a serious gaze at Laurence, then dropped her shoulders, rolled her eyes to the ceiling and said, "Now I have to get cut. Great." Meeting his stunned look, she asked, "Am I close?"

"Can't get much closer."

"There was no choice, was there? With just the active and the 'spy' you'd have been able to brazen it out, perhaps. People probably would've taken your word for whatever happened. And you could've erased whatever evidence might have been left on the computers later. But the science guy … um …"

"Topher."

"Strange name. Yes, though, with him in the equation, things changed. I have no idea how high up the food chain you need to be to see the tape of what goes on in this office but someone would've looked. So there was no margin in shooting the active and possible mitigation in not shooting her. Nor was winning the fight with the active in your interest and wounded creatures do, on occasion, garner sympathy. Most importantly, you couldn't deviate from the Laurence Dominic persona during the subsequent interrogations or things would've just gone worse." She smiled at his puzzled frown. "Not only is he an NSA agent, he's good at it. That's not the path to leniency."

"No. It isn't."

"What?"

Dominic raised an eyebrow, enjoying more than he'd like to admit the shoulder to knee contact. "What what?"

"There's something else. Some other factor."

"This is the standard Simone is seriously scary warning being broadcast on all channels."

"Laurence." Neither could resist laughing at the growl in her voice as she spoke his name. "What other factor?"

"I'm not sure but I have a guess."

"Don't make me pull teeth." Simone punctuated her threat with a deep, intense open mouthed kiss.

"My tonsils ok?" Dominic asked, trying to catch his breath.

"Perfect. Other factor?"

"This is what makes my job surreal—when I poke around and discover things and suddenly all the marbles fall into place. 'Oh, I get it' is immediately followed by 'There is no way in a million billion years that Laurence Dominic would even suspect such a thing.' It's hard to pretend not to know something you know."

"I assume you're going to tie this back into the fabric of your story."

"I'll say this. If you're lying to yourself, the last thing you need is to find out that someone you trust is lying to you—even if those lies were pretty much benign and his interests were more or less in line with yours."

Simone considered for a long moment. "I see your point, and I have to think about how best to move forward." Shifting from his side onto his lap, Simone whispered, "But first I need to touch you."

A bit taken aback by her intensity, Dominic murmured, "Are we outside of your mandate now?"

"Yes."

"Then don't get too comfortable."

"Ssshhh."

Dominic held Simone's head in his hands. "I know Adelle pretty well."

"Mr. Dominic," Adelle DeWitt's voice sounded loud in the room. Dominic mouthed the words, "That is not on offer," in perfect time with Adelle's spoken delivery.

Simone laughed and pulled back slightly. "I'll see what I can do about settling my karma debt, Laurence. I promise."

"I appreciate the sentiment but you'll be wasting your time."

Adelle loomed over the couple. "I trust you have received adequate answers to your questions, Ms. Krane."

"Yes. I certainly have. Might I steal another moment of your time, Ms. DeWitt?"

Adelle's eyes slashed to Dominic. "Of course."

Simone looks over her shoulder at Laurence. "Thank you."

"Thank you," he replied.

"For what?"

"For making it count. What I did that night. And for understanding what came after for me." Chuckling, he looked down, took a sharp breath and looked her in the eye, purposefully mimicking the sequence of expressions that clued her in to the fact that he could answer her question. "It matters."

Smiling broadly, Simone asserted, "You desperately need therapy."

Dominic countered, "I desperately need something."

* * *

"Well, Mr. Dominic," Adelle DeWitt said, "I must say your new friend is zealous in your defense. She's even offered her professional services to the House should the need arise and to attend to your personal psychotherapy gratis. Should you be treated humanely in her view, of course." Her smile was cold, harsh, damning. "It was a stimulating negotiation; however, my inclination is to return you to the attic."

"No."

Everyone turned to Topher. The shock on Dominic's face overmatched the surprise on everyone else's—a fact that struck Topher as funny.

"I beg your pardon, Topher," Adelle said.

Forcing himself to be serious and face Adelle, Topher said, "I won't dismantle that mind again and Ivy isn't ready to do it on her own."

Adelle's voice took on a dangerous tone. "You … won't?"

"Why not?" Boyd Langton asked, his calm curiosity diffusing some of the tension in the room. "What's changed?"

"Everything, man friend." Topher helped himself to a dinner roll. Turning to Dominic, he said, "I'm sorry, Laurence. I didn't know." Gesturing expansively, he added, "I mean—who could've known—right? That pesky 'secret' part of secret agent kept the whole thing under wraps."

"Um … ok." Laurence retrieved his bourbon. "What is it exactly that you didn't know because it was secret?"

"About you. And David and Dane and whoever else you might have been or yet be." Topher grinned, imagining the possibilities. A sudden thought occurred to him and he was mid-blurt before he'd definitely decided to articulate it. "From a bisexual actor to a poster boy … poster man, I mean … for flaming heterosexual—in the blink of an eye. Can I just say, 'Wow," and get the whole awe thing out in the open because this is … this is like the … Holy Freaking Grail, you know?"

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Ballard demanded.

"What he said," Laurence added, gesturing to Ballard.

Topher beamed.

"Explain, please, Topher," Adelle said, making her way to the bourbon bottle and availing herself of the second glass.

"Back in the day … back when the technology for creating actives was first developed, a handler wasn't envisioned as someone who sits in a van eating bonbons and playing solitaire while the active does whatever the script calls for. Well, I mean a handler was envisioned that way for stuff like sex fantasies but not for other stuff. More advanced stuff. Stuff with strategy and tactics and … stuff." Why is everyone looking at me like that? "What?" he asked.

"You lost me at the bonbons," Dominic said, biting his lip. "The visual image of Langton, a box of chocolates and a deck of cards was just too … something, not sure what, for me to process, but I feel safe in guessing that hanging on to your every word wouldn't have done me much good."

"Don't any of you get it?" Topher asked, volume increasing as he spoke. "The opportunity we have here? Anybody?"

"An opportunity in the person of Mr. Dominic?" Langton ventured.

"Yes, yes, yes, man friend!"

Responding to a delicately cleared throat from Adelle DeWitt, Langton prompted, "What sort of opportunity?"

When Topher didn't respond immediately, Dominic said, "The Holy Freaking Grail is, I take it, not some sort of cup in this case."

"It's not a cup. It's a person," Topher said, moving, nearly bouncing around Dominic. "It's you!"

"Me?"

"You."

"I'm not sure what to say," Laurence said. "I'm not sure why I'm saying anything, but it just seems like someone should say something to a pronouncement like that."

"How about 'Rubbish?'" Adelle said.

Dominic shrugged. "We can work with that." Turning to Topher, "She said 'Rubbish' to which you reply …"

"Prototype," Topher said. "The word you're looking for is 'prototype.' Laurence is a prototype for a high end handler." Warming to the lecture, Topher said, "Imagine a sensitive situation that requires a working knowledge of the Dollhouses, our strategy for accomplishing whatever, espionage or anything overarching. Taking the first one, say our people need to interact with people from other Houses to accomplish our goal. Maybe we want to, say, swipe or, better yet, copy some imprints, so that no one knows we have them. Which I have thought would be a convenient thing to do from time to time. To add to our collection. So we … Laurence, you get this—right?"

"Pair an active to do the copying or identify the imprints to steal with someone who knows the people, layout, what have you about the Houses and understands why this needs to happen and when within the context of whatever strategy we're running."

Topher smiled. "Exactly. I knew you'd put them together if I could get the puzzle pieces on the table. I'm guessing that goes with the decoder ring."

"Which is a myth, by the way," Laurence said. Perhaps seeing a hint of a tear forming in Topher's eye, he quickly added, "But there're a lot of cool things that aren't."

Smile getting wider as he sensed Laurence adjusting to accommodate him, Topher couldn't help but ask, "Like what?"

"Gentlemen, the moment this conversation ceases to interest or amuse me, Mr. Dominic is headed back to the bench. Permanently."

The two men exchanged a look, fleeting yet significant. A male bonding moment with Big Bad Laurence? That might be a sign of the apocalypse. Oh wait, I forgot. BBL has left the building.

"I'm missing something, Topher," Dominic said. Sipping his bourbon, he appeared to be considering. "How would you get the back story? These two people, theoretically, have history together. They'd have to. A reason to be wherever together."

"I'd get it from you." Topher grinned at Laurence, stepping closer, enthusiasm crowding out his usual ration of fear. "You make it up, like you said you built all those personas in the attic. From the story you tell us, Ivy and I can build a historical template to overlay on the skills imprint, and, Houston, we have back story."

"You can do that?" Dominic asked.

So not used to respect flowing in this direction. "With time, sure. The less details, the easier. So it'd depend on the situation. Stakes get higher, time gets longer."

"Makes sense," Laurence allowed before pouring himself some more bourbon. "Although sometimes less is more."

"Say we imprint Sierra with an heiress personality who is going to be a client for a rival House." Topher felt his heart rate accelerate. This is so sharp it's beyond cutting edge! "Who are you? Uncle? Masseuse? Dance instructor?"

Dominic's eyes drifted for a moment, presumably freeing his mind. "Bodyguard."

"For how long?"

"Three years."

"Is he her lover?"

"Not yet. More of a friend when no one is around to comment."

"Why?"

"Shouldn't be related unless there's no choice," Laurence said, obviously catching a bit of Topher's wave. "Family's too complicated. We are, to the extent we can be, in keep it simple, stupid territory. Less to forget. And bodyguards tend to be where their employer is pretty much all the time. It's tailor made."

"So what if Echo is—?"

"How could he work with different actives?" Langton asked. "How could the trust imperative work in that case?"

"It couldn't," Topher replied. "Beyond a framework for it based on their 'past,' trust would have to be earned the old fashioned way."

"That takes time," Ballard said, splitting his time between radiating skepticism in Topher's general direction and eyeing Dominic like an exotic creature that might be poisonous. "There won't always be time."

"You just saw it done over a very unbalanced meal." Topher turned to Laurence. "More non-dairy protein, man friend and maybe some fruit."

"Simone was predisposed to trust him, given their brief history," Adelle said. "I don't think you can cite that situation as typical."

"It's the briefitude of their history that makes my point. It doesn't matter that she believes he saved her life. What counts is that she had built up certain expectations about him, he figured out what those were and met them." Topher didn't miss the hint of a smile that flitted across Dominic's features. And he knows full well what he did. That's huge. "In this case," Topher said, "we'll be putting the expectations in place, taking the mystery out of the process. All he has to do is meet them."

Adelle drained her drink. "To what end?"

"To the end that we have something no one else has," Topher said. "No other House could touch us. We could protect ourselves, deal with Alpha and bring down every other House if we wanted to. And a few governments for variety." Topher actually launched himself into Adelle DeWitt's personal space. "This is unique." Turning to Laurence, "What was your word? Singular. This is a singularity in our universe. This is our big bang. The vehicle for expansion. Creating something out of nothing."

Adelle's face was a blank mask. "I will go and speak to Ivy about returning Mr. Dominic to his rightful place."

* * *

"Thanks for trying."

Topher touched the rim of his wine glass to Dominic's bourbon filled one. "Not good enough."

"Still, coming from you, I take what you said as complimentary." Laurence hesitated. "Can I ask you something?"

"Ok."

"Was the Roger imprint for Ms. Lonely Hearts retired?"

Topher nodded. "Right after … um … things went south with you. How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." Dominic's thoughts drifted to what he'd told Simone about the "other factor." He felt no real gratification in being right.

Eyeing the cop/FBI contingent across the room, Topher tapped Dominic on the shoulder and muttered, "Boyd should talk to her. To DeWitt."

Dominic laughed. "You think he approved the first time?"

Shoulders slumping in defeat, Topher whispered, "No."

"It … well, it sounded interesting." When Topher looked up, Laurence added, "What you were talking about. It had a certain appeal."

"It ought to. It's what you were born to do. Run actives like that."

"Maybe." Dominic stood, pulling Topher up with him, as Adelle DeWitt arrived. "The verdict is in."

"Is that your final answer?" Topher whispered, startled to hear a snicker from Dominic.

"I wish to speak privately to Mr. Dominic," Adelle said. "Please await us in Topher's inner sanctum."

Laurence watched the others leave the room, Topher looking back with regret, Langton with interest and Ballard with something that looked almost like relief. Adelle didn't speak. Worn out with all of the talking he'd done, Dominic wasn't in a hurry to either. The silence spun out for a time but, in contrast to what he would've expected, it wasn't uncomfortable. It was, strange as it might seem, almost like old times, when there was often no need for conversation between them.

"Does the NSA know you are compromised, Mr. Dominic?" she asked while pouring them both another bourbon.

Why bother to lie? There's no margin in it. "Yes."

"At what point did they—?"

"The day you put me in the attic."

She frowned. "Then why haven't—?"

"Who says they haven't?"

A hint of a smile splashed across her face. "This need to interrupt is new, Laurence."

It all suddenly seemed pointless to Dominic. "They may have tried to replace me. Infiltrate the organization at another entry point." He leveled a frank gaze at Adelle. "They haven't come looking for me, though. Nor will they. It was understood from the beginning that this was a one way trip. The cavalry has the decade off." When she wouldn't meet his eyes, he laughed. "What? Did you really expect me to say 'It doesn't matter what you do to me because no one is going to come looking for me,' Adelle?" Sipping his bourbon, feeling a bit drunk, he added, "That isn't the way they suggest you play it in covert operations 101, much less in the advanced classes."

"And how do they suggest you play it, Mr. Dominic?"

"As tight as possible," he said, watching Adelle closely, not caring if she noticed. "Don't get cute. Don't get attached. And for Christ's sake don't think of your boss as a brilliant woman with great legs. Don't think of her as a woman at all."

Her laughter sounded loud in the quiet. "Your Simone's are better."

Laurence allowed himself a slow grin. "Too close to call. And, sadly, despite what all of you seem to think, I'm not so confident she's anything close to 'my Simone.'"

"I want you back in the attic."

"Why? Topher seems to think I'd be useful to you. And you are, after all, in the business of using people."

She turned away and her voice lowered to a whisper. "I can't trust you. I can't trust that you aren't saying what I want to hear. Doing simply as I expect. Not after what I've just seen."

Dominic thought about that for a time, letting the now tension-filled silence have its way. "Tell me something, Adelle," he said. "Was the Laurence Dominic you knew … before … attracted to you?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Beyond the occasional bit of role playing in front of people from rival houses?"

Turning to face him, a hint of defiance infused into the strength of her tone, she said, "I believe so, yes."

"Do you think he knew you knew?"

She took her time. "Perhaps."

Fighting a smile, he asked, "And what do you think it would've taken for him to actually do something about it?"

Unhurried yet not completely unflappable, she replied, "Some unambiguous signal on my part, I should think."

"Definitely. Someone like Laurence doesn't hit on the boss without getting an obvious go code." Walking over to the window, staring out at the traffic congested street, he said, "Without being hit on the head with 'This is what I want you to do right now,' he wouldn't risk it. He couldn't." Not looking at Adelle, he sighed. "I thought we had a shot after all the drug-induced moronic behavior at Rossum. The right moment, if it arrived at all, passed quickly."

"And what if I'd transmitted your go code?" she asked, interest obvious.

"We'd have … um … gone." He laughed. "Hell, I'd eventually have confessed the NSA thing in some post-coital state. Partly because of the brilliant, great legs thing and partly because I wanted a connection. Needed a real connection to some one else."

Adelle regarded him for a long moment. "I … I can't trust you."

Taking a risk, Laurence took Adelle by the shoulders. "Listen, here's the deal. I have no where else to go," he said. "If I turn back up, the NSA will take me out and, well, that's pretty much it for real options." He glanced down at the floor and took a deep breath. "I appreciate how pathetic that is, but life is funny that way. Mine's definitely a black comedy. The Cohen brothers would feel right at home."

"You could be normal."

"Normal?"

Adelle laughed, presumably at his absolute disbelief. "Yes, normal. Design software or software/hardware interfaces based upon the David personality. Take Broadway by storm as Dane. Move into security at a different job as Laurence. Something normal."

Sighing, Dominic whispered, "Would you allow that? Would the NSA?" Gazing at a painting on the wall that hadn't been there the last time he was in her office, he said, "I guess I could make a break for it and try to be normal somewhere. But both you and the NSA have a long reach."

"Ms. DeWitt," Boyd Langton burst into the room. "There's a situation with Echo. I've routed it to screen number 2."

With nary a thought, Dominic followed DeWitt to the bank of video monitoring screens and took up his normal station to her left.

Katlin/Echo shouted, "He's supposed to be backing me up and he's got some blonde bimbo with her tongue down his throat!"

Her handler, Travis, said, "I've told you, Kaitlin, she was asking for directions."

"Asking what? Your esophagus?"

Travis looked to Paul Ballard and the security team that had materialized in response to the disturbance. "She's glitching again. The woman was blonde, but she just asked me how to get to the Forum."

"He's not always the same!" Kaitlin/Echo insisted. "And you don't need to be within undressing distance to ask someone how to get anywhere."

"Mr. Dominic?"

DeWitt's voice seemed to be coming from far away. "Hmmmm?"

"Shall we see what this is all about?"

Dominic stared at Adelle for a moment, mind trying to switch from his impressions of what he'd seen on the screen to what had just transpired with DeWitt. It wasn't until she spoke again that he followed.

"Shall we see what our alleged high end handler makes of this situation?" she asked.

Trying for a safe response, he shrugged.

* * *

When they arrived on the scene, Adelle stopped yet urged Dominic forward with a sharp jut of her chin. "Demonstrate for me, please, these advanced skills Topher seems to think you have."

Feeling odd without the jacket and tie he abandoned in Adelle's office at Simone's request, Dominic approached the gathered crowd, taking a position leaning against the glass wall of Topher's office. "What's going on?" he asked, tone casual, curious.

Ballard and his team looked shocked. What the fuck is Laurence Dominic doing loose in the House? In stark contrast, Kaitlin/Echo latched onto the new pair of ears with gusto. "This," she said, pointing dramatically at Travis, "is supposed to be my partner. He's supposed to have my back."

"And instead he's … um … giving directions?"

Kaitlin/Echo backed Dominic up against the wall, pinning his body with hers, one leg between his, glaring up at him. "Do I seem like I'm about to ask you for directions?"

"No," he admitted. Allowing himself a slight smile, he added, "But if you did, you'd be likely to get them."

"Is that so?" Kaitlin/Echo murmured, rocking against him, watching him for any reaction. Dominic swallowed hard. She smiled big.

"You said he wasn't the same," Laurence said. "What did you mean?"

She stepped back a half step, eyeing him speculatively. "You were watching me."

He glanced over her shoulder at Travis and shrugged. "You were screen number two in the boss' office."

"So you were watching screen 2?"

A hint of a smile appeared as he murmured, "It was the only one with you on it."

"Excellent taste," she said, grinning. "I like you … but I don't know your name."

"Laurence."

Kaitlin/Echo slipped her arm around Laurence's waist and drew him to her side. "Look at him. He's got that puppyish thing going, Laurence. 'She's mistaken, sir,' and all that. But out there, out in the field, he had his fist clenched in her hair and was giving as good as he got, you know." Kaitlin/Echo looked up to see if Dominic was listening, smiling as she saw she had his complete attention. "Just FYI, I wouldn't care at all if you got an urge to do that to me and gave in." She laughed at his raised eyebrow. "He's not the same. He's … he's …"

"Inconsistent?" Dominic ventured, slipping his arm around Kaitlin/Echo's waist as well.

"Yes!" Kaitlin/Echo enthused. "You get it!"

Catching and holding her gaze, Laurence said, "I think I do." Eyes amused, he grabbed her by the hair as she'd described, tilted her head toward him and whispered, "Follow my lead, Kaitlin." She winked in reply.

Releasing her hair, patting it back into place as best as he could, Laurence took a deep breath. Show time.

"You know, Travis, is it?" Dominic asked, taking a slow step or two toward Echo's handler. When he got a nod from the earnest young man, he said, "There's a foolproof way to get out of an argument with a woman. It's never failed since men and women came into being. You might consider it in the future."

"What?" Travis demanded.

"You agree, Travis."

"Huh?"

"With whatever she says. Whatever she's accused you of. Whatever your sin of the moment happens to be, real or imagined."

Travis regarded Dominic with obvious confusion. "I don't understand."

"Obviously." Dominic turned his back on Travis and faced Kaitlin/Echo. His shoulder's slumped, he looked at the floor, kicked at an imaginary rock. "So what? So I kissed her. So I kissed her so freaking hard you were jealous. It's boring in the van, ok? I didn't expect you that soon. So you caught me. Go you! Pat yourself on the back and let's move on like adults."

Kaitlin/Echo's eyes were wide. Dominic looked over his shoulder and said, "See."

"But … but … you admitted …," Travis said.

"Who cares? She caught me. I confessed. She's all justified in her low opinion of me." Laurence looked back at Kaitlin/Echo and grinned. "But the conversation is over. She won't feel the need to repeat it … well, repeatedly. This whole incident, this public display of nonaffection, would never have happened." Dominic sighed. "The problem, of course, is the difficulty in implementing this strategy. Natural inclination is to defend yourself. Did not. Did too. Did not. Did too. Begins in about the second grade and gets more articulate but doesn't really change. It takes discipline and the understanding that this isn't a way to win an argument. It's simply a way to get out of one."

Travis and Dominic locked eyes, Travis' getting wider when Kaitlin/Echo stepped next to Laurence and looked up at him expectantly. Dominic couldn't see an advantage in disappointing her, so he said, "And … there's a reason things are done the way they are, Travis. Really. Smarter people than you or I have figured this out."

"What … things?" Travis had begun to sweat.

"A romantic encounter necessitates physical proximity." With a hand on the small of Kaitlin/Echo's back, he maneuvered her into position close to Travis. "It also would easily explain a piece of paper in the interior pocket of your jacket having a phone number or a restaurant name and time or some similar information."

Without hesitation, Kaitlin/Echo swooped in and extracted just such a piece of paper from Travis' jacket.

"But all is far from lost," Dominic continued. "Simple enough to say that 'I haven't worn this jacket in six weeks. That note is old news,' all the while hoping there isn't an actual date on it. But you see," Laurence looked from Kaitlin/Echo to Travis, "this is the real problem with earnest. Earnest doesn't interrupt. Earnest doesn't say things like 'Shouldn't they just put you back in your box,' or 'How in the hell can you people listen to this guy—hello, traitor much?'" Dominic laughed. "Or better yet just put your fist in my smart mouth. You don't just let me talk incessantly."

Peripheral vision fully engaged, Dominic saw Adelle's involuntary step forward. Someone else with the program. How nice. "This isn't a lecture at Quantico or one of the Academys. This is real life and you have to engage." Dominic looked at Travis and sighed. "Deer in headlights never works. Not unless you are, in fact, a deer facing an oncoming car. You need to do better."

"Who's Colette?" Kaitlin/Echo asked. Travis reddened. Dominic looked over his shoulder in disbelief, took a deep breath and let it out quickly. Focused on Laurence, Kaitlin/Echo asked, "You know her?"

"Those are some serious directions," Dominic muttered.

"What?" she asked.

"I'm talking 'How do I get to the Orsay Museum in Paris from downtown Shanghai using surface streets only?' serious. Wait," he mused, "Can that even be done?" Dominic laughed again. "More to contemplate."

"Talk to me, Laurence," Kaitlin/Echo demanded.

"About this tall," Dominic asked, putting his hand about shoulder blade level. "Blonde, green eyes, everything that can be surgically enhanced, surgically enhanced?"

Kaitlin/Echo nodded. "Tell me about her."

"She's fun," Laurence admitted. "Predictable, maybe, but … well, the package is very, very nice." Noting Kaitlin/Echo's narrowed eyes, he said, "If you don't like svelte. I am so into svelte it isn't even funny."

"He's full of shit," Travis asserted.

"Finally!" Dominic said. "Too bad late is not much better than never when it comes to situations like this." With a full on smirk, he continued, "As a friend of mine once said after an unfortunate outcome in a flight simulator, 'Cool! I suck!'" Turning to Travis, he ordered, "The time to extricate yourself is passing, Travis." Aware of Kaitlin/Echo hovering at his side, Laurence decided to take a moment to bask. The silence stretched to an unbearable tension. "Look, you can't effectively lash out at me after letting me talk this long. And you can't backpedal, since you've been saying 'She was asking for directions,' forever. But …?" Dominic tried his intense stare on Travis.

Travis said nothing. "Oh, c'mon," Laurence said. "Who else is there to blame?"

An inordinate time later Travis said, "Echo?"

"This is seriously remedial." Sighing, Dominic whirled on Kaitlin/Echo. "The woman was asking for directions to the Forum for a spelling bee for pity's sake! You begged me to wear this jacket and now you start this shit! What are you playing at? What in the hell did I ever do to you to deserve this?" Looking around frantically, eyes widening, jaw clenching as if in realization. "So you're in on it with him. With the traitor. Nice. Very nice. What could he possibly have offered you?" Breaking off eye contact with Kaitlin/Echo, Dominic looked over his shoulder at Travis. "Something like that."

"I …" Travis began but fell off.

Dominic turned to face Travis. Kaitlin/Echo molded herself to his back. Tugging his head to one side she whispered, "Do you have any idea how hot you are right now?"

"What?"

She closed her eyes and rubbed her body against his. "Even better. A man who doesn't get his own hotness. This is my lucky day." Kaitlin/Echo began nibbling at the base of his throat.

Laurence muttered, "Stop that." Facing her disgruntled look, he smiled. "Let's finish this first, all right? There will be plenty of time after your treatment to … ah … ask for directions."

"Promise?"

Taking a deep breath, unexpectedly fighting not to lose himself in those expressive eyes, he said, "Promise, Kaitlin."

"I don't know if I believe you," Kaitlin/Echo asserted, leaning in, kissing him full on the lips, coaxing a response.

"Decide," he said, not masking the desire in his voice.

They faced each other down for what seemed to Dominic to be a very long time. Understanding his role, he never flinched. After a while, he grinned at Kaitlin/Echo in a clear challenge.

"Finish it," Kaitlin/Echo demanded. "You're on the clock."

"Understood," Dominic said, making a show of reluctantly looking away from Kaitlin/Echo to face Travis. "I'm thinking your silence, Travis, is directly tied to a misconception of what comes after this decidedly one way conversation. I'm going to get laryngitis if this keeps up."

"They … they put me in the attic."

"Sorry. Wrong. There isn't likely to come a day when someone says, 'Shit, only Travis knew that! Now I'm really sorry I put that bullet in his brain." Dominic stalked toward the younger man. "And before you get your heart rate up even more, we aren't in bullet in brain territory. While I favor the convenience of a problem solved that way, I don't get that vibe from Langton. So you're likely to simply get your walking papers—goodbye and good luck." Dominic's smile became predatory. "It's the 'what happens then' that's the real issue." He focused on Travis. "Which is?"

"I tell them you sold me out."

"Ok. To review. Laurence Dominic is sent to the attic to rot. But the moment you fuck up with your active who strolls by to listen to the exchange—LD. And he, basically, more or less, but without actually doing it until pretty late in the game, calls you an NSA agent, and a poor one, to your face. Are you getting how farfetched this sounds?"

"It's the truth!" Travis nearly shouted.

"And?" Dominic demanded. "Lee Harvey Oswald acting alone is the truth and look at what's been done with that scenario over and over again."

"He did?" Travis asked.

"Off topic." Dominic smiled at his unconscious echo of Simone.

"My handler will believe me."

Laughing again, Dominic said. "Mine won't and she's senior and recognized as a brilliant, hard ass bitch." Laurence smiled at Kaitlin/Echo. "She liked me. And she would look you straight in the eye and say, 'Dom would never do that. He doesn't have it in him.'" He shrugged. "After the attic, she has no fucking clue what I have in me, if she ever did before. So …"

Ballard gestured sharply. Two of his men latched on to Travis and hauled him away. The man barely struggled. Dominic took a deep breath. Then a second. And then had a handful of Kaitlin/Echo in his arms, her tongue seeking entry into his mouth.

"Isn't it time for your treatment?" he asked, a bit breathless from her onslaught.

"Yes," she murmured, kissing him again, harder, deeper, more thoroughly. "Definitely." Another kiss. "Time." Hands busy trying to interest him in her program. "For." She nibbled an earlobe. "My." The other earlobe received the same attention. "Treatment." A kiss that Dominic returned in spades.

"I think your treatment can wait, Kaitlin," Adelle said, a hard smile on her face.

"What?" Laurence asked.

Adelle turned her Ice Queen mask to Dominic. "I think you should fulfill your promise to the young lady at once. Don't you?" She approached, slowly, predator-like. "Don't you want to?" Looking him up and down meaningfully, arching an eyebrow, Adelle whispered, "Be honest, now, Laurence."

"I can wait." He kissed Kaitlin/Echo on the cheek. "I'm a delayed gratification guy. I'm copacetic with that. Really."

"No," Adelle said.

Kaitlin/Echo took Dominic's hand. "Please?" she asked.

The combination of Adelle's chuckle and Kaitlin/Echo's intensity demanded he answer, "Sure. Ok. Now." Stabbing Adelle with a glare, he demanded, "Where?"

* * *

"What exactly is the point of this?" Boyd Langton asked, turning his back on the surveillance screens, leaving the voyeurism to DeWitt, Topher and Ballard.

"I'm calling his bluff," Adelle said, eyes never leaving the screen. "It was a marvelous performance, Mr. Langton. Flawless. Until now. Laurence can't bring himself to sleep with Echo. Not even if his life depends on it."

"He's tense," Ballard commented, "but I'm not sure he's unwilling."

"He's adjusting," Topher offered, gesturing with one hand to the relevant screen. "He didn't expect to have to play the character he created for the Kaitlin imprint beyond dealing with Travis." Stepping next to Adelle, he said, "Did I nail the handler thing or what? He gave her the attention she wanted on all levels and included her in the little drama he staged for her benefit." His happy smile was evident in his voice when Topher added, "In case you didn't notice."

"But not now," she stated.

Undeterred, Topher suggested, "Give him a sec."

Langton said, "Men have been known to behave differently one on one with a woman than they do in a group setting."

Gesturing to Langton with both hands, Topher said, "Exactly, man friend. I couldn't have said it better myself. With a little more enthusiasm, maybe, but not better."

* * *

"What's wrong?" Kaitlin/Echo asked. "I thought … well, it sure seemed like we were on the same page."

"Nothing," Laurence muttered. "Nothing's wrong, Kaitlin. It's just … well, it's been a little while."

"No way!"

"Way."

Kaitlin mouthed, "Oh." Eyes wide, she stepped back and clasped her hands together, released them, clasped them again. "And I'm going too fast, aren't I? Of course I am. I always do. Sorry, ok?" When he nodded, she smiled. "I can do slow. Slower, at least. I can." Kaitlin/Echo bit her lip and scanned the room. Her eyes lit up when she saw the CD player. "Be right back."

While Laurence watched her thumb through the stack of CDs, he fought for calm, for a focus, for a handle on this aspect of this role—one he could use. She's just a woman, idiot. Get a grip. But she's not just any woman, she's Echo. And Echo is … the enemy. Or she was. Maybe still is. Hold on. She's Kaitlin at the moment. Not Echo. I have no idea who Kaitlin is, really. But whoever Kaitlin is, she isn't an enemy unless I make her one. She's … ok, she's Kaitlin.

Slow country music with a simple backbeat called Dominic from his thoughts just before Kaitlin/Echo reappeared in his personal space. "Is the music ok?" she asked. "I thought, you know, we could …" She slipped her arms around his neck, leaned in close and more or less simply swayed to the music.

Relax, Dom. You can do this. Remember, you did a good deed for Kaitlin, just like you did for Simone. This is no different. No reason not to lose the tension. There was an audience then, too.

The song ended. An even slower one began—one about pickup trucks and prison terms and the woman who waited for her man to come home. That was followed by the lament of a no good, two timing ex-husband for what he'd lost.

"That's better," Kaitlin whispered, running her hands along his shoulders. "Much better." She smiled up at him and pressed her lips to his for a slow sensual kiss.

* * *

"Never play poker with that man," Topher commented with what he hoped was an evil smirk. "That's most bodaciously excellent bluffing. I give him 10 out of a possible 10."

Ballard chuckled. "I think this one goes to 11."

"Mr. Langton, please escort Echo to her treatment."

"Now?" Langton asked, incredulous.

Topher looked from Adelle to the screen and back. Kaitlin/Echo was sitting on Laurence's lap, whispering in his ear. The audio pickups didn't register her words, but they seemed to be doing pleasant things for Dominic.

"Now," Adelle ordered, tone brooking no further argument.

* * *

"Kaitlin, would you like your treatment?" Langton said, voice barely above a whisper.

Kaitlin/Echo shifted in Dominic's lap in order to get a sight line to Langton. Laurence bit his lip hard enough to draw blood in an effort to keep his reaction non-verbal. "No," she said. "I'm busy now, but thanks for offering."

"I'm sorry, Kaitlin," Langton said, aiming his apologetic look at both. "This isn't really a request, even if it sounds like one."

"He's right," Dominic said, hugging her briefly. "Boss lady has spoken."

"But …" An evil grin flashed across Kaitlin's face as she brought clever hands to bear. "I can't leave you like this."

Dominic's eyes wouldn't focus. His mouth refused to even attempt to form words. He felt so incredibly good he almost couldn't stand it.

"Kaitlin," Boyd's sharp tone cut through the haze of lust. "That isn't very nice."

"I don't want to go," she pouted.

"Obvious, but beside the point." Langton lifted Kaitlin off of Laurence's lap. "I don't like this any more than either of you, believe me. Ballard will be here in a moment to escort you back to Ms. DeWitt, Mr. Dominic.

Dominic managed a nod and was damn proud of that accomplishment. Kaitlin blew him a kiss over her shoulder. Ballard entered the room, practically radiating sympathy. Suddenly, it was all funny. To his mild surprise, Ballard laughed with him and made no move to rush him out the door.

Good. I definitely need a few minutes before facing Adelle. Have to calm the fuck down. So to speak.

When he felt more under control, Dominic stood and matched Ballard's pace to the door and into the corridor beyond. Feeling Ballard's eyes on him, Dominic said, "What?"

"Topher asked me to tell you not to give Ms. DeWitt what she wants—your anger, pain, frustration, whatever." Ballard spoke without looking at Dominic, barely moving his lips. "He thinks, and I agree, that she's looking for an excuse to have you killed."

Dominic considered for a few moments, before saying, "But Topher's entire thesis about why I'm useful is based upon my ability to give people what they want."

The two men halted before the elevator to Adelle's office. "You won't be able to do that or anything else, if you don't—in Topher's own words—play this hand for yourself, not for her."

Myself? Who is that, exactly? "I …" The elevator door opened and Sierra's and Victor's handlers stepped out, conversation dying mid-syllable as both stared at Dominic. Ignoring them, Laurence followed Ballard and willed the door to shut again with alacrity.

"You what?" Ballard prompted.

"I get it," Laurence said, closing his eyes, trying to clear his mind. "What you and Topher are saying, I mean. But I don't think it matters one way or the other. Adelle's mind is made up."

The instant they stepped from the elevator, Adelle DeWitt said, "You may return to your other duties, Mr. Ballard."

Ballard caught the elevator door before it closed and left Dominic to his fate.

"I must congratulate you, Mr. Dominic," Adelle said, walking a slow circle around Laurence. "Your gift for improvisation is nothing short of splendid. I never suspected you capable of such range." Stopping before him, she raised an eyebrow. "What? You actually have nothing to say?"

"I'm tired, Adelle. Tired of talking and, well, just plain tired."

"Funny." She smiled in a way Dominic didn't like. "You didn't seem tired with Echo."

"I wasn't."

"That's where I thought you'd reveal your limits." Adelle's eyes hardened. "With Echo."

Roll the dice, Dom. What have you got to lose? "Not Echo. Kaitlin." Surprised her for, what, a millisecond? Now we're back to our regularly scheduled program of cold calculation. "Who was Kaitlin, anyway?" he asked.

"An up and coming thief in the process of building a reputation for penetrating the impenetrable." Adelle's voice was as sharp as her wit. "That amuses you, Mr. Dominic?"

"No. It explains a few things about her, that's all."

Curiosity softened Adelle's features. "Enlighten me, Laurence."

He shrugged. "Up and coming implies focused with little patience for people who aren't. Her reputation is important to her. Anyone who sullies it in any way becomes persona non grata. So Travis had to be put down somehow." Smiling slightly, toying with his watchband, he continued, "And going where others fear to tread demands energy, inventiveness and flamboyance. Traits useful in other aspects of her life as well."

Nodding, Adelle said, "I see." Finally approaching within striking distance, expression unreadable, Adelle mused, "Now what shall I do with you?"

"What do you want to do with me?"

"We don't always get what we want, Mr. Dominic."

Laurence laughed, thoughts leaping back to Kaitlin's busy hands and determined mouth. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Sarcasm at this juncture is not in your best interest." Adelle stepped closer, gazing at Dominic as though she could see beyond the surface. "Tell me something, Laurence. Who are you?"

Refusing to give the name panic to the feeling flooding his system, Dominic looked away. His eyes darted around the room, searching for inspiration, finding some, sifting through the options. He sighed and changed his mind. "I don't know," he whispered. "I haven't had time to give it much thought."

"It might be easier for you if we approach it this way. Would you continue to use the name Laurence Dominic if we were to conduct Topher's experiment?"

Eyes widening in surprise heading at light speed toward shock, Dominic said, "That would be less confusing for everyone, I think."

"What would you do in your spare time—when you were not conducting an engagement with an active?"

"Read," he replied, looking down at her, wondering if she was playing with him. "Work out. I feel out of shape. My balance is off."

"What would you read?"

"I … um … I like complex plots, doesn't really matter what genre. George R.R. Martin, Neal Stephenson, Dan Brown—all good. And memoirs."

Adelle turned her back to him. Is this some kind of test? Will I go for her throat?

"And how will you work out?" she asked.

"Swimming for stamina. Martial arts for balance and discipline. Boxing for footwork and power. Why?"

She smiled. Dominic wasn't sure exactly how he knew this because she was still facing away. He was sure of it nonetheless. "Perhaps I am trying to get to know Laurence number 2."

"And maybe you're messing with his mind."

"Is that what you think? Truly?" Adelle spun to face him, expression raw with a mix of emotions Dominic couldn't begin to parcel out.

Feeling lucky, Dom? Roll those damn dice again. He nodded.

"I am outnumbered, Mr. Dominic. Topher is firmly in the Holy Freaking Grail camp. He has even recruited Ivy to his cause. Ballard was stunned by David, Dane and the dueling Laurences and impressed with the deconstruction of Travis. Mr. Langton favors anyone who protects Echo. Your actions vis a vis Simone spoke similarly to him."

"Be all that as it may. You're the boss."

"When facing unanimity," Adelle said, "I'd be a fool to act in opposition were I not certain of my course."

It was Dominic's turn to raise an eyebrow. "So … what happens now?"

"I keep you on a very short leash." Putting her hands on her hips, Adelle added, "I saw that flicker of a smile, Laurence. Do watch your step or I might be tempted to take that action in a literal fashion."

"What does the figurative version mean?"

"I will assign Mr. Ballard to watch you."

"The handler being handled." Dominic permitted himself a smirk. "Where does it end?"

Adelle matched his expression remarkably well. "Perhaps with a go code. One never knows, does one?"

"A … go code?"

A challenge in her stance, the smirk shifting to a sly smile, Adelle waited.

Go code. Go code. I've used that expression today. But when? I've talked so damned much. And Adelle's heard practically every conversation I've had, so it's not necessarily something I said to her. God, I'm tired.

Adelle's chuckle called Dominic out of his own head. "You look charming when you're confused. Something the two Laurences share.

"I hate to burst your bubble but I'm not confused."

"You are entitled to your opinion, of course. However, I stand by my assessment," she said, pursing her lips for a moment as though deciding whether to continue. "I do believe the go code we're speaking of, if ever transmitted, will be less provocative, although no less ambiguous than what Echo did to you after Mr. Langton arrived. That was an expression for the ages, Laurence."

I don't even want to imagine the look on my face at that point. Dominic shook his head, trying not to recall how desperate he'd felt, how good. Get back on topic, Dom. We have a non ambiguous, provocative go code to define. Oh. Yeah. That. His own words echoed in his brain. Someone like Laurence doesn't hit on the boss without getting an obvious go code.

"Laurence Dominic, Version 2.0, might be a take matters into his own hands guy."

"Be cautious about what or whom you take into your hands," Adelle advised.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Do not start that again," she ordered, placing a hand on his forearm, waiting to have his undivided attention. "This is the crux of the matter. I trusted you, Laurence. Your betrayal stung more than I care to admit. I will not be ill used again."

"Understood—."

"If you say ma'am again, the attic will be too good for you."

Dominic stared into Adelle's eyes for a long moment. "I'll earn your trust."

"I'm unconcerned on that score. You've demonstrated the ability to inspire trust time and again this day." Moving her hand to his elbow and then to his shoulder, she whispered, "Will it be misplaced is the question."

"No is the answer." Dominic sighed and turned to face her. "I want somewhere to belong, real connections to people. I need to figure out who I am, but I don't think I can do that alone."

"You won't be alone, Laurence, but you might be lonely."

"Lonely?"

"Topher envisions you as a handler without portfolio—able to work with any active. The other handlers will resent both that and Topher's unbridled enthusiasm for the idea. You will be isolated from your peers."

Dominic shrugged, dislodging her hand from his shoulder, feeling it migrate to the small of his back. So what? I've been isolated from pretty much everybody for a long time.

"The damage from your exposure as an NSA agent was mitigated by your public denunciation of Travis. Release of Simone's story will mend fences further, but most everyone will be watching and waiting for you to return to type."

"Including you?"

"Especially me."

He closed his eyes, never anticipating the difficulty he'd have in reopening them. A yawn snuck out before he could stifle it. "I didn't lie to you before, Adelle. In my opinion, I have no where else to go. That's a big incentive to walk the straight and narrow, however serpentine that will turn out to be once you set whatever plots you're hatching in motion."

"I am somewhat less Machiavellian than you paint me."

"If you say so." A slight smirk settled on Dominic's face. "And I didn't even think of appending the word that shall not be spoken."

"I do say so." Adelle took his arm and led him toward her bar. "And I'll append this—

welcome home, Laurence."

THE END