Chapter 9: Mirror

The meal was over, but Alice and Claire were both still sitting at the dinner table, empty china dishes in front of them. The silence was awkward, it was clear that Alice wanted to say something but the words wouldn't come out. Alice was miserable; she didn't want to admit it but she was so in love with Claire. Yes, they didn't exactly leave each other on the best of terms but things were different now. She was human, and it made all the difference in the world…and no difference at all. Will she ever remember me? Do we just start over?

The videos spoke more of Alice's guilt then she knew; Claire could see that. She wasn't blind to the torment Alice put herself through. Though she couldn't read the taller woman's subtle movements, she noticed her general demeanor. Alice was upset, but the redhead could only guess as to why. Then Alice yawned, and it was a sign Claire could easily interpret.

"Well, I'm pretty beat…" the redhead offered, she pushed out her chair and rose to her feet.

"Mm," Alice agreed. She got up to take her plate into the kitchen but by then Claire had walked around to her side of the table and retrieved it for her. It was a simple gesture that Alice just read as Claire wanting to be useful, but it made Alice smile anyways.

"I don't know about you, but that king-size bed is calling my name," Claire commented as they walked back to the master bedroom.

"Go for it. I'm going to take the floor," Alice deferred; trying to tell herself that the bed would be too soft compared to what she was used to. She was trying everything to get the thought of sleeping in the same bed as the Claire out of her mind.

"Don't be ridiculous Alice; the bed is plenty big enough for both of us. Besides when's the next time you're going to be able to sleep somewhere this nice?" It was a rhetorical question, the answer more than obvious.

Alice couldn't find any fault in the redhead's logic, though she could tell she wasn't trying very hard to.

"Well, ok." Alice was absolutely smitten with the idea of sleeping in the bed with Claire, though she was terrified of its execution. What if I hog all the covers…or worse – snore? Alice was being absurd, she knew. But the redhead made Alice feel things she'd never felt before; she was nervous and excited at the same time, her stomach twisted in knots.

When the extra pillows were tossed to the floor, the covers shaken out, and a pistol placed under Alice's pillow, the two settled beneath the sheets. Though the world around her was silent, Alice was sure that her heartbeat was louder than a passing train.

Time carried on and Alice was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't immediately register that Claire had risen, and was sitting on the edge of the bed away from her. Something was wrong.

"What is it, Claire?"

Claire looked at Alice surprised. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

Alice sat up and responded. "You didn't, what's wrong?" The taller woman was afraid she was prodding too much, but Claire looked like she needed to be asked.

"I-I remembered something," Claire's voice was uncertain, and Alice could be seen swallowing as the redhead continued. "My parents…died in a car crash when I was young. I remember their funeral, and someone holding my hand the entire time. They wouldn't let go… I didn't want them too…"

Alice's throat was dry, but she said the only thing she could think of. "I'm sorry." She knew it would bring the redhead little comfort, but it needed to be said.

In the dim light Alice could see Claire smile, it was false and forced, but Alice understood. The redhead laid back down on the bed and Alice followed her.

It was late in the night when Claire was awakened by a muffled sound. Her first instinct was to wake up Alice, but then she realized that it was Alice making the noise. She was whimpering, the sheets clutched tightly in her hands, tiny beads of sweat dotted her forehead; and even in her waking phase – it broke Claire's heart.

"Alice," she said softly while gently touching her shoulder to wake her from the nightmare cursing her sleep.

The ex-project jolted awake, Smith and Wesson retrieved and firmly pointed at the door. Alice's breathing was panicked, and it wasn't until she saw Claire's compassionate look that she realized what was going on.

"Oh god," Alice said as she lowered the gun, but didn't put it away. Keeping the cold metal weight in her grip made her feel more secure. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok," the redhead promised, as she confidently brought her hand to Alice's back and rubbed it in slow, soothing motions. The ex-project calmed quickly; the remnants of Alice's nightmare brushed away by Claire's gentle hand.

Alice wasn't comparing Claire to Spence anymore, how could she? They were vastly different; Spence's arrogance – a flaw, Claire's arrogance – endearing. Spence's compassion – nonexistent, Claire's compassion – overwhelming.