2/46 Nothing Is What It Appears To Be
A/N: In the end, they all make a mistake.
Nothing Is What It Appears To Be
By Demeter
People have a tendency to want to spare her, even Alpha. He is amused at finding himself not completely immune to the effect.
"What do you want, imprint me again? The last time I ended up an alcoholic teenager, so no thanks."
Behind the cute exterior, there's a lot of attitude left. He smiles, secure in the fact that she can't see him. He's not crazy; he wouldn't have come here if he didn't know that Lindsay Boxer is on her way to LA once more, hashing out some important details with the task force, as Alpha's body has never been found. His smile widens. It won't happen in the future either; he made sure of that.
"It doesn't have to be that drastic," he says. "You're not the best witness to identify me - being blind and all."
"So what exactly do you want?"
"Remember what Adelle told you?" He chuckles. "Of course you do. Enhanced version and all. You know that the Dollhouse is very much like the mythical Hydra, you cut off a head, it grows new ones. What makes you think we don't have any more informants in the SFPD?"
She sits very straight, her mouth set in a grim line.
"That's right, you will magically forget everything about me, everything you saw. Like Adelle told you, we could still cause a lot of trouble for your girlfriend. Unlike Adelle, I won't hesitate to make it happen. Late backup... just once would do the trick."
"Let's say I stick to my part of the deal." Suppressed anger and fear are hovering close to the surface. "You know I like stories. I'm curious. I want to know how you and Clyde started the Dollhouse."
He knows she's trying to bait him, but he can't help the flash of pride. "I'm afraid that's too complex for Libra's little mind, or what's left."
"Mr. Langton." She takes off the black glasses, momentarily startling him by looking straight at him. "You're underestimating me."
"Ego makes you careless, doesn't it?" He spins around to face the inspector, her gun trained on him. He mentally calculates his move. It isn't over yet.
"Stay where you are," she snaps at him. "Hands up."
"Oh well. This is getting cozy yet, isn't it?" he says sarcastically. "I just came to chat about an old friend we have in common."
The fury is turning her eyes coal black; he's satisfied to see she's got the message.
"You could have stopped him. You didn't do a damn thing."
Boyd shrugs nonchalantly. "The sign series actives weren't priority." He sees her finger tighten on the trigger, enjoying her dilemma and the moment on the edge of the knife. It's all part of the adrenaline rush, and he's sure had many of those from the moment the first Dollhouse was opened.
"Lindsay, don't."
She hesitates at her girlffriend's plea, but doesn't turn to her.
Boyd is not worried though. He knows he can move faster than she expects him to.There have been other casualties on the road to his perfect freedom; he doesn't mind them. He knows how to hide the bodies too. Carefully, he takes a step closer to her.
"Don't even think about it." Echo comes from the right. He spins around at the sound of her voice. A mistake, he thinks angrily. They set him up.
"It sounds like a bad cliché, but I have to say it anyway. Game's over."
"Do you trust me?" he asks sincerely, expecting the indoctrinated line. Echo might be special, but only because he made her. She's still under his control. She'll always be. "Echo, do you trust me?" he repeats.
"In your dreams," she says, and that's when Boyd knows he's in trouble. Ironically, the inspector was right. He should have stopped Ashe sooner, and the imprint that allowed Cindy Thomas to remember him would have never been made. Somebody has to pay now. The easiest, closest target is still the woman he came here for in the first place.
He moves, but not quickly enough. The sound of a gunshot rings loudly. What an undignified way to go with all the good he was going to bring to humanity. He isn't going to go down without taking the enemy with him. His finger tightens around the trigger of his own gun.
Nothing Is What It Appears To Be
By Demeter
People have a tendency to want to spare her, even Alpha. He is amused at finding himself not completely immune to the effect.
"What do you want, imprint me again? The last time I ended up an alcoholic teenager, so no thanks."
Behind the cute exterior, there's a lot of attitude left. He smiles, secure in the fact that she can't see him. He's not crazy; he wouldn't have come here if he didn't know that Lindsay Boxer is on her way to LA once more, hashing out some important details with the task force, as Alpha's body has never been found. His smile widens. It won't happen in the future either; he made sure of that.
"It doesn't have to be that drastic," he says. "You're not the best witness to identify me - being blind and all."
"So what exactly do you want?"
"Remember what Adelle told you?" He chuckles. "Of course you do. Enhanced version and all. You know that the Dollhouse is very much like the mythical Hydra, you cut off a head, it grows new ones. What makes you think we don't have any more informants in the SFPD?"
She sits very straight, her mouth set in a grim line.
"That's right, you will magically forget everything about me, everything you saw. Like Adelle told you, we could still cause a lot of trouble for your girlfriend. Unlike Adelle, I won't hesitate to make it happen. Late backup... just once would do the trick."
"Let's say I stick to my part of the deal." Suppressed anger and fear are hovering close to the surface. "You know I like stories. I'm curious. I want to know how you and Clyde started the Dollhouse."
He knows she's trying to bait him, but he can't help the flash of pride. "I'm afraid that's too complex for Libra's little mind, or what's left."
"Mr. Langton." She takes off the black glasses, momentarily startling him by looking straight at him. "You're underestimating me."
"Ego makes you careless, doesn't it?" He spins around to face the inspector, her gun trained on him. He mentally calculates his move. It isn't over yet.
"Stay where you are," she snaps at him. "Hands up."
"Oh well. This is getting cozy yet, isn't it?" he says sarcastically. "I just came to chat about an old friend we have in common."
The fury is turning her eyes coal black; he's satisfied to see she's got the message.
"You could have stopped him. You didn't do a damn thing."
Boyd shrugs nonchalantly. "The sign series actives weren't priority." He sees her finger tighten on the trigger, enjoying her dilemma and the moment on the edge of the knife. It's all part of the adrenaline rush, and he's sure had many of those from the moment the first Dollhouse was opened.
"Lindsay, don't."
She hesitates at her girlffriend's plea, but doesn't turn to her.
Boyd is not worried though. He knows he can move faster than she expects him to.There have been other casualties on the road to his perfect freedom; he doesn't mind them. He knows how to hide the bodies too. Carefully, he takes a step closer to her.
"Don't even think about it." Echo comes from the right. He spins around at the sound of her voice. A mistake, he thinks angrily. They set him up.
"It sounds like a bad cliché, but I have to say it anyway. Game's over."
"Do you trust me?" he asks sincerely, expecting the indoctrinated line. Echo might be special, but only because he made her. She's still under his control. She'll always be. "Echo, do you trust me?" he repeats.
"In your dreams," she says, and that's when Boyd knows he's in trouble. Ironically, the inspector was right. He should have stopped Ashe sooner, and the imprint that allowed Cindy Thomas to remember him would have never been made. Somebody has to pay now. The easiest, closest target is still the woman he came here for in the first place.
He moves, but not quickly enough. The sound of a gunshot rings loudly. What an undignified way to go with all the good he was going to bring to humanity. He isn't going to go down without taking the enemy with him. His finger tightens around the trigger of his own gun.