#and there was a mix for adelle/dominic from dollhouse that i loved and it wasn't until much much later that i realized | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misscrazyfangirl321 · 1 year

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adelle x dom: some kind of au where he wasn't a traitor or swapped sides?

I hope this counts!

He’s already in her office when she arrives. That isn’t altogether uncommon-he’s always been prompt, and she often finds him there waiting for her-but the state of him certainly is. He’s slumped on her couch, face in his hands, a strange mix of stress and surrender that sends a thrum of panic through her. Always, he is steady. Firm. On an even keel, sometimes when even she cannot manage it.

“Mr. Dominic?” It comes out softer than she means for it to.

When he looks up, there’s surprise in his eyes. Another terrifying thing; he’s the most observant soul she’s ever met. How could she possibly have snuck up on him, especially without trying? He swallows once, then twice, looking at her like he’s never seen her before. No-like he might never see her again. She has half a mind to turn and look for Alpha-for who else could shake him like this-but she cannot break his gaze.

“Ma’am.” His voice is rough.

“Is everything alright?”

He laughs. It’s a dark, bitter sound, one that she very nearly wants to run from. Instead, she straightens her shoulders, arching a brow and staring him down. “No,” he says finally. “No, it’s not alright. None of this is alright. This was supposed to be easy. It wasn’t supposed to be-this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Is she even breathing? He’s not making a bit of sense-and that won’t do, not at all; he’s supposed to be the sensible one, the voice of reason to keep her focused-and she cannot recall the last time she was this afraid. “What wasn’t?”

“You weren’t supposed to get under my skin.” He grimaces. “I wasn’t supposed to care about you. Not like this. Not at all.”

Stupidly, she finds she wants to smile. There’s always been a romantic inside her, carefully hidden away (from all but Roger; he gets to see every reckless impulse, every silly softness she tucks inside her chest, and it’s safe because no one else will ever know), and such a dramatic declaration from someone as carefully contained as him, well… It’s enough to make her heart rate pick up, fear giving way to something far softer. She knows what she ought to do-shut this down, not risk their carefully curated working relationship-but she isn’t altogether sure what she will do when she steps forward, holding out a hand. “Laurence-”

He flinches back like she’s burned him, rising to his feet. “Don’t,” he warns, voice scalding. “This isn’t a love confession, Adelle.”

Embarrassed, and annoyed for it, she stops, squaring her shoulders. Of course; it was foolish of her to think, even for a moment, that this was as simple as all that. To think he would ever put his heart on the line like a hero from a movie of old. “Then what on earth is it?”

“A death sentence, probably.” He sighs, running a hand over his face, and all the fight seems to drain from him at once. Turning away, he looks out of her grand glass window. “I work for the NSA.”

The words echo in her mind, refusing to land, to form a coherent thought. They’re sounds, consonants and vowels, a string of syllables that cannot come together. The meaning is there, just at the edge of her mind, but it cannot come through. And then, all at once, it does.

“That isn’t funny.”

“Not a joke.”

Everything in her rebels at the idea (but the alternative is that he’s lying to her-either way, he’s lying to her, and that simply isn’t possible), and her legs don’t feel altogether strong enough to hold her up. She crosses to the couch and sits, pressing her hands together tightly. “What are you saying?”

He turns back to face her. “I’m a spy. They sent me to keep tabs on the Dollhouse, to make sure the technology stays under control. That it doesn’t get into the wrong hands.”

She thinks she might be sick. Thinks she might cry. Thinks she might cover her ears with her hands and pretend she cannot hear him, no matter how Topher-esq that would be. She does none of these things, however, just steels herself, meeting his gaze as steadily as she can. “Why are you telling me this now? Is it because you’ve come to care for me so much?” She forces as much mockery into the words as she can manage, the full force of his betrayal lodging itself between her ribs, anger and hurt coming in on a rush.

“They offered me a promotion.”

“Shall I say congratulations?”

“To assassin.” There’s something soft in his eyes, and another day, she might get lost in it. Now, though, it just burns, so deeply it takes her a few seconds to make out his meaning. When she does, the room suddenly feels too cold.

He could do it, she knows. Dozens of people in this building, and he could end her and escape before any of them even realized. She’s seen what he’s capable of, and it’s always been a thing of beauty to see-his strength, his skill, wielded for her and her alone-but now she’s suffocatingly aware that even with him several steps away, even with her just a few feet from the door, she’ll be dead before she even knows he’s moving if that’s what he wants.

When she says nothing, he continues. “They’ve found someone to run the Dollhouse. Someone who works for them, who’d do things their way. And they want me to make sure the position’s open.”

“And… Are you?”

“No,” he says, and the air comes back to her in a rush. “But it won’t take them long to figure that out, and then they’ll find someone who will. You need to run.”

Part of her-a very small part-wants to do just that. Another, even smaller part, wants to ask him to come with her. Even now, even after everything, the thought of being apart from him twists in her chest. Quickly, though, she pushes those impulses down, burying them under the professionalism that’s kept her alive for years.

“I’ll deal with them when they come.” She stands, and something shifts in his eyes. An uneasiness. As though he understands that she’s leveling out (as if he can feel the ice settling inside her, protecting her from the swirl of emotions). “For now, the only one I need to deal with is you.”

“And what are you going to do with me?”

“You’re a spy, Mr. Dominic. I trust you remember the contract you signed when you came here?” She exhales. “Any action taken against the house will result in you being sent directly to the Attic.”

Scoffing, his face twists into an odd mix of resigned disbelief. “Really? I just saved your life, and that’s how you’re going to thank me?”

“Saved me by not killing me.” She arches a brow. “That is rather the bare minimum, I should think.” She turns, tries not to think of all he could do before she even reaches the door, and starts forward.

“Where are you going?”

“To Topher, of course. He’ll need to prep the chair.”

“So you’re just going to leave me here?”

“Yes.” She keeps her gaze locked on the door ahead of her. “I’m going to leave you here, alone. I’m going to go alert Topher. Likely Langton as well; I’ll need someone with a gun, in case you try anything foolish. And when I return, we’ll take you down to the lab and deal with you. Permanently. And if you get any clever ideas while I’m away, don’t. Our security is top-notch.”

She knows he must understand. Because yes, it’s the most brilliant security she’s seen in an age; he set up every part of it. He knows this place inside out better than she does. He’ll be long gone before she can return with the others.

Is it weakness on her part? Is it strength? She doesn’t know. She knows only that he has saved her, that he’s put everything he believes in on the line to keep her safe, and she’s helpless to do anything but return the favor.

“Adelle-” His voice has gone low, soft and full of emotions she doesn’t even want to try and sort through.

“Don’t.” She lets her lips twist into a smile. “This isn’t a love confession, Laurence.”

(There isn’t even a trace of him when she returns to her office, Langton and Topher in tow. Topher’s too upset to think of it, but suspicion flickers in Langton’s eyes as he looks at her. No matter; she gives him firm orders to track down Laurence Dominic, whatever it takes.

They both know he’ll never find him.)

#adelle dewitt #laurence dominic #dollhouse #answered #thanks for the ask!#lattes of love #my fics #my writing #mine

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