Dollhouse fic - Enemies of My Soul, Conspirators in Pajamas; R; Chapter 9
Title: Enemies of My Soul, Conspirators in Pajamas (An Epic Alias-Dollhouse Crossover)
Rating: R for language, violence and sex (Yes, you read this right)
Characters: Adelle, Dominic, Irina, Jack, Rachel, OC
Pairing: Adelle DeWitt/Laurence Dominic; Jack Bristow/Irina Derevko
Disclaimer: I do not own Dollhouse. Or Alias.
Words: 5, 320
Notes: Spoilers for season 1 of Dollhouse and season 5 of Alias
Also: brief backgrounder on the alias characters with pictures! and the previous chapters
Author's notes: I found this the most ridiculous chapter to write. It took me four days to write one scene. I apologize for the mistakes in advance.
The kitchen is already bustling with activity when she strolls in. The head chef’s barking orders to two other people, who are busy clanging the pots and pans.
She looks around. Most of the appetizers are finished.
“You’re a slave driver, Michel.”
The head chef, a huge, brown-haired, mustached man, stops talking and turns to face her. A big smile appears on his face.
She has known Michel Renault for some time now, and she knows him well enough to be comfortable with his presence and he knows her well enough to not ask a lot of questions.
He hurriedly goes towards her. He leans forward and kisses both her cheeks. He touches her shoulders and stares at her, “You are looking younger every time I see you, Irina.” He says.
She smiles, coquettishly, “You flatter me, Michel.”
“But it’s true!” he exclaims, “You give the twenty-year-olds a run for their money! What’s your secret?”
Irina tosses her head back and laughs, “That is just bordering into unbelievable. And you make it sound like I made a deal with the devil.” She says, resting her hand on his arm.
Michel waggles his brows, “Did you?”
She shakes her head, still smiling, “Well, if I did, I couldn’t really tell you, could I?”
He responds with a hearty laugh, “Ah, I missed you and your wit.” He remarks, “And when will your guests start arriving?”
A glance at her watch, “They’ll be here in thirty minutes.”
“Ah,” Michel says, “You have to leave the kitchen, then. I want to finish the rest of the hors d'oeuvre, and start on the main course.”
Irina smiles at him and squeezes his arm affectionately before walking out. She leaves the busy kitchen, goes past the dining room, into the living room then up to the second floor and goes out to the balcony.
She finds Jack seated on one of the chairs. His cell phone is on top of the patio table and he’s staring at the view in front of him. He immediately looks up when she steps out.
Irina goes to him and stands by his side. He puts his arms around her waist and he lets out a deep breath.
“Plan B’s going to work.” She says after a few minutes, “I know that you like Plan C because you want to frighten Ferguson and that you won’t ever see him again after that, but I think those two will succeed.”
He doesn’t say anything. She starts to gently rub the base of his neck and she feels the tension ease slightly.
“Ready for Ferguson?” she asks. Jack hadn’t really liked the man, and his dislike had intensified after the meeting last week.
“I take consolation on the thought that he’ll be unconscious for an hour.” He says and lifts his head up to look at her. He gives her a small smile.
Irina touches the side of his face. It thrills her that she’s seeing more and more of his smile. He’s such a serious man, even back then. There was a time when she thought she’d never see him smile at her ever again. For once in her life, she’s glad that she was wrong about that.
Jack takes her hand and kisses her fingers. “Our guests will be arriving soon. We should probably get dressed.” He says.
She smiles and takes Jack’s hand. She pulls him off the chair and tugs him to their room.
~*~*~
Adelle keeps the smile on her face as she watches Ferguson paces around in front of them. He’s very jittery, seemingly like an animal in a zoo. She first saw him as a very confident man, but the more they spend time with him, the more he seems to come off as unhinged.
“Are you all right?” she asks lightly. She puts her hands on her lap and tilts her head to the side. Ferguson stops pacing and glances at her. He smiles.
“I am.” He says a little too quickly, “I am. I’m just… I have something to discuss with Irina and I’m excited about it.”
She sees Laurence come out of the bathroom. Ferguson observes them as Laurence sits down beside her.
Laurence slips his arm around her and kisses her bare shoulder. Adelle turns her head and gives him a smile, which makes him lean in closer to kiss her lightly on the lips.
“This might sound a little intrusive, but I have to admit that I envy you two.”
They both glance at him. Laurence rests his chin on her shoulder and she rests her left hand on his back.
“What do you mean,” he asks, “You envy us?”
The tall man runs his hand through his black hair. “Because you have each other-despite what you do for a living.” He explains, “It’s like how Jack and Irina are, except at the same time, it’s not.”
“Oh,” Adelle says, but she’s not able to say anything more as Irina Derevko enters the room holding a bottle of wine. Jack follows behind her, carrying a tray of wineglasses.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Irina puts the bottle on top of the table, “We had a difficult time uncorking the bottle.” She looks pointedly at Jack, who gives her brief smirk. Adelle watches as Ferguson beams at the interaction. She can’t really understand why he can’t see it-why he can’t see how dangerous these two people are.
Jack hands her a glass of red wine before handing another one to Laurence. She takes a sip from the glass and keeps her eyes on Ferguson, who’s being handed a glass by Irina.
“I was telling Kyle and Cate how lucky the four of you are.” Ferguson says and starts drinking.
Irina pats his shoulder, “Don’t drink too fast.” She says to him, as if she’s talking to a little boy who has gotten his hands on a jar of cookies, “We still have dinner.”
Ferguson chuckles, “Of course, of course.” He says, grinning, “Don’t you want to hear why I think all of you are lucky?” he asks, good-naturedly, slightly waving his free hand around.
Irina gracefully sits down on an empty chair beside her, “Why are we lucky, Ferguson?” she asks. Ferguson is the center of their attention-the only actor in the stage with the four of them as his audience.
“You found each other. We’re all in this crazy world, crazier than normal I must say, and you found your… mate.”
Jack stands by Irina’s side, a little bit in front of her chair. He has one of his hands shoved in his pant pocket, “It’s not as easy as it sounds.” He has a defensive posture, as if he’s anticipating something violent to occur.
“Yes, well. Still.” He says. Ferguson starts pacing around, “You’re still together aren’t you?” He then glances at her and Laurence, “How hard is it for the two of you?”
They look at each other. They never had this kind of a discussion before. She can see him thinking and her mind races for a reason, something that is both accessible and plausible.
“We want children,” Adelle tears her eyes away from Laurence’s and looks back at Ferguson. His hold on her tightens but then quickly eases, “But we can’t really bring them into this… into our equation.”
“We have to quit, but we’re just too… involved with our jobs.” Laurence says and kisses her shoulder, “I’m more than willing to retire, but she’s not ready for that yet.” He adds.
“And he’s not the one who’s going to be pregnant.” She teases and plants a kiss on his cheek.
Irina’s laugh fills the room. Adelle leans against him and angles her head to look at his face. He has a smirk, but aside from that, the expression on his face is inscrutable.
Suddenly, they hear a loud thud and the sound of glass breaking. From where she’s seated, she can see Ferguson sprawled on the floor.
Laurence stands up and takes her wineglass from her hand as Jack puts his on the table and goes towards the unconscious body.
“Thirty minutes.” Irina says, starting the countdown. It will take ten minutes for them to dress down to the basic black burglar outfit (and ten minutes to dress up), ten minutes to go to Ferguson’s house and back. They have thirty minutes to go around Ferguson’s house and get to his office. It seems like they have a lot of time to steal the manuscript, but they will need all the time they have to avoid the fifteen men patrolling the house.
Adelle ties her hair up in a bun as she heads towards one of the rooms, with Laurence following a few steps behind her. The moment she hears the doors close, she takes off her heels and takes the clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser.
Before she unzips her dress, she stops momentarily and looks at her partner-in-crime. He has started to unbutton his shirt.
He flashes an inquiring look, “What is it?”
She purses her lips and shakes her head, “Nothing.” She turns away from him, “Never did it occur to me that I’d be comfortable dressing up, or rather, dressing down, with you in the room.” She says as she unfastens her dress.
“There have been a lot of surprises in this mission.”
And that was the truth.
Adelle quickly strips down to the basics and wears the cargo pants and the turtleneck. She takes off her jewelry and puts them on top of the dresser. She then takes the running shoes under the bed and sits on the chair.
“Your answer, that the Ascotts want children? That was pretty good.” She hears him say. She tightly ties the laces and looks up. He’s already standing, bouncing up and down.
“Children. Always a nice story.” She replies and stands up herself. “Are you ready, Mr. Dominic?” she asks.
Laurence takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Let’s do this.”
~*~*~
She patiently sits outside the café. The cool wind kisses her red, slightly sunburned cheeks. She’s lived in LA almost all her life and she’s been to a lot of places. For her, LA is the sunniest place on earth; four months ago, she discovers that she’s wrong.
“Oracle, are you in position?”
Rachel pretends to fix her hair. Her back is by the wall with the information on her laptop unseen by anyone but her, “That’s an affirmative, Evergreen.” She responds and looks around.
“Wait for my go signal.”
When people look at her, they see an approachable young blonde who likes to party. From the conversations she had with people, she knows that they underestimate her; that they think of her as a bit bimbo-ish. And truth is, she’s more than willing to let them believe that. Letting people think that she’s an airhead makes her job easier. It makes snooping around easier. And it means that no one will think that she can access and control the town’s power with just a few clicks on her computer.
Rachel takes a sip from her iced tea. This is the second to the last hurrah. She’s enjoying her stay in Ibiza, enjoying the attention she gets when she’s in the clubs, enjoying this pseudo-vacation, but she misses home. This isn’t some sort of infiltrate-the-Russian-mob type of mission- it’s actually a very light operation, only with very complicated people involved.
“Oracle, contractors are in place. You have the go signal.”
She stretches her fingers and starts typing. Seconds later, all the lights on the street and the establishments switch off and the town is suddenly blanketed in darkness. She hears several gasps of shock (or maybe of alarm). From her reconnaissance, she knows that this kind of incident rarely happens.
Rachel feels a bit of satisfaction settling in her stomach.
~*~*~
The back-up generators didn’t work, as planned, and they easily slipped through the iron gates undetected. So far, they haven’t had the chance to use their tranquilizers.
They hide by the bushes. They’re a few feet away from the front door-not that Adelle’s going to use it to enter the house.
Laurence peers through the shrubs. He can make out a few people assembling by the door and he can hear them talking about checking the generators and the fuse box, to find out why the back-up power isn’t kicking in.
They wait for the men finish the conversation. Two will check the fuse box, which is by the library, while two others will go to the other end of the property and check on the generators.
They start to move again, avoiding the beams of light from the flashlight when the men scatter. Adelle leads the way, as she has a better grasp of the landscape.
They make sure to stay within the shadows. The security rounds of Ferguson’s men don’t include the kitchen, which makes it their point of entry. When they reach the back door, Laurence swipes their dummy keycard and they stealthily slip inside the house.
They huddle behind the center table. Laurence opens the backpack he’s carrying and hands Adelle the night-vision goggles. As she wears them, he puts two small canisters of tear gas in the pockets of her pants. He then gives her the plastic cylindrical container for her to place the manuscript in.
Laurence looks at his watch. Twenty-five minutes left. He looks at Adelle, who also points to her wristwatch.
He nods his head. She then sneaks out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
He wears his night-vision goggles, takes the bag and goes out of the house. He slowly closes the door and goes towards the side. He runs his hands in the shrubs to find the thick metal rod which the agents from the reconnaissance mission installed. When he finds it, he kneels on the grass and starts taking the spool of cable from the bag and the industrial-strength magnets Mr. Plum provided for them.
His ears strain to hear the guards as he installs the spool and the magnets. He didn’t exactly feel safe using only magnets to attach the spool to the metal pole, but before they left for Ibiza, Mr. Plum had demonstrated the strength of the magnets using two cars.
Laurence glances at the time. Twenty-three minutes.
He squats behind the bushes and waits for Adelle. Splitting up wasn’t the original plan, but after what happened to him in Ferguson’s office, they decided that it will be for the better if they did.
Time crawls. He keeps himself from looking at his watch every second.
And then, he sees a beam of light. He hears someone talking. It’s a man’s voice and he seems to be talking to someone through a two-way radio.
Laurence freezes. His fingers curl tightly around his tranq gun. The man is by the kitchen door.
He considers incapacitating the guard if he doesn’t move from his position. There’s no way Adelle can get out of the house through the kitchen door if there’s someone in front of it.
He waits. After a few seconds, the man starts walking to the side.
Laurence holds his breath. The cable isn’t noticeable, but there’s still a chance that the man is observant enough to see the small fraction of light bouncing off from the shiny surface of the spool.
The man stops in front of the cable and looks about. He flashes his light around.
Somehow, he points his flashlight towards his direction
“HEY!” the man shouts and reaches for his walkie-talkie.
Laurence acts fast. He pulls down the goggles from his eyes and sprints away from his position. He quickly kicks the radio away from the man’s hands.
The man stumbles backwards, but immediately recovers from his attack. He grabs Laurence’s arm and starts throwing punches at him. The man is taller than him by a several inches, and definitely larger than him. He can’t avoid all his blows, and they’re too near each other that he can’t shoot him with his tranquilizer.
Laurence kicks the man’s knee. The man grunts. He kicks the knee again. This time, he hears something crack and the man falls down with a shout of pain. He takes a quick step back and shoots the man.
He bends forward, resting his hands on his knee as relief courses through him. His side is starting to twinge, but he ignores it. After a quick second, he grabs the man’s ankles and starts to drag him behind the bushes. He takes the flashlight from the ground and turns it off while the two-way radio is thrown off the cliff.
He hurriedly goes to the cable and starts preparing for the jump. He looks at his watch. Eighteen minutes.
After a few seconds, Adelle appears.
“I got it.”
“Jump off point.” He replies and gives her the carabiners and the clamps as he takes the plastic cylinder from her.
He shoves the container in his bag and zips it up. He then grabs the clamp at the end of the cable and follows Adelle to her position.
They are a few inches away from the edge. Laurence can feel the small rocks crumbling under his shoes and falling to oblivion. But the wind isn’t blowing, which is a very good thing.
They’re already wearing the safety harnesses around their waist and legs. Laurence hooks the end of the cable to himself and he fastens the other hook on his waist on the strap on Adelle’s waist. He pulls her towards him and she puts her arms around his torso. He does the same.
Her heart is racing. She’s terrified of jumping off the cliff. She never admitted it out loud, but he knows.
The lights around the house begin to flicker. Then a light on the second floor goes on.
Someone has fixed the generator.
“Go?”
“Yes.”
And they jump.
The air blasts on his face and the feeling of rapidly falling down several hundred feet and seeing nothing of the danger is making his blood rush through his veins.
He forgets everything that happened before this and focuses on this moment- jumping off a cliff without the fear of being cut by the large, jagged rocks beneath the towering crag. Jumping off a cliff without any fear of death.
He feels so alive.
And just as quickly as it started, it ends. A brief and painful jolt goes through both of them as the rope recoils.
He keeps his arms locked around Adelle’s body. Her face is against his chest, her legs wrapped around his legs and her body is pressed very tightly against his. And as they dangle upside down, he doesn’t let go of her.
Excitement pounds in his head. Laurence feels laughter bubbling inside him.
“Are you okay?” he finally asks. Adrenaline is still pumping in his body.
She doesn’t speak. Her heart is hammering against his chest. Laurence starts to rub his hand across her back.
“Adelle?” he asks again after a while.
“I’m… I’m fine.” Her voice is a little shaky.
He continues to knead his hand on her back. He suddenly feels himself grinning. He’s going to do this again- not with the same scenario, of course, but God, he’ll do this again when this mission is finished.
“I’m going to release you first. Hold on to my arms, I’m going to help you down.” He says when a few minutes had passed.
“Okay.”
Laurence disengages the hook and takes hold of Adelle’s forearms. Gradually, she lowers her legs and slowly finds her footing on the ground. He then unhooks himself from the cable and lowers himself on the sand.
When he’s steadily standing on both his feet, he slowly pulls the wire downwards and when he feels a click, immediately releases it. The cable quickly retracts upward, being pulled in by the spool.
He lets out a hoot. “Wasn’t that fun or what?” he asks giddily, with the pain from being punched by a giant man, forgotten. He fights the urge to jump up and down like an excited kid high on sugar.
“Yes, it was.” Her tone is brittle. She looks at her watch, “We should get to the extraction point.”
He reaches out to her and takes her hand. He squeezes it reassuringly before letting her go. She drops her hand to her side.
“Let’s go.”
~*~*~
The room is still spinning when he opens his eyes. He groans, audibly, and shuts his eyes again.
“Ferguson, darling, how are you feeling?”
He opens his eyes again and finds Irina’s concerned face hovering above him. He blinks and shakes his head.
“Not too good.” He answers and makes no move to sit up, “What happened?”
“We don’t know. You were talking one minute and then you were on the floor, unconscious.” Irina answers, “When you didn’t wake up after a few minutes, we called a doctor. But he hasn’t arrived yet. There’s been a blackout.”
“There’s no need for a doctor, I’m feeling all right now.” He pushes himself up to sitting position. He feels his body swaying and it took a lot of concentration for it to stop. “How long have I been out cold?” he asks before he started looking around the room.
“Forty-five minutes.” Irina sighs and peers at him worriedly, “You’re having more and more of this fainting spells, Ferguson. You scared all of us back there. Perhaps you should go see a doctor.”
“No. No doctors. I’m perfectly healthy, Irina. This is just stress.”
He hates doctors, he hates hospitals. Under no circumstance will he see any of it willingly. He’ll see them when he’s dead.
“Then de-stress, darling.” She purrs, “If you don’t, you’ll end up in the hospital. And I know how much you hate hospitals.”
He shudders at the thought. It’s laughable-a grown, rich man afraid of hospitals and doctors.
Irina pats him on the shoulder and smiles.
Ferguson smiles back at the older woman. He doesn’t know how a woman branded a terrorist by various intelligence agencies around the world can be so gentle. He knows that he shouldn’t want to see that side of her and he doesn’t.
“They served dinner a few minutes ago. Jack is with the Ascotts. We should join them.”
He nods his head. He slips off the bed and stands up. He’s thankful his knees doesn’t buckle.
“I am not comfortable with talking about Rambaldi in the presence of the Ascotts.” He says offering his arm to his companion as they start walking towards the door.
“Why not?”
“I don’t think they will understand. I don’t want to talk about the apocalypse in front of a couple who wants to have children.”
She gives him a curious look and then nods her head. “That’s… very thoughtful of you.” She says as they step out of the room.
There’s a part of him that’s starting to think he’s slowly going insane from worrying about something a 15th century man wrote about.
“And besides, I don’t want them to think I’m crazy.” He says.
“I understand the feeling.”
Ferguson takes a deep breath. He has time to prepare for the apocalypse. The end of the world isn’t going to happen tomorrow.
He has time.
~*~*~
She’s in her pajamas, standing by the dining table, drinking a glass of vodka. What happened a few hours ago was one of the most terrifying things to have happened to her. It was also a strange one. After jumping off a cliff, they have to act as if nothing of that sort occurred and instead, pretend to have been worrying about the man whom they stole from.
It was also quite difficult to act worried when adrenaline was still rushing through her body.
Adelle drains the glass of the drink and takes the bottle to pour herself another round. There’s something satisfying about feeling the vodka burning down her throat after this hectic, stress-inducing day. She should probably go to bed after this.
She’s almost finished with the second round when Laurence approaches her.
“Celebrating?” he asks and pours a drink for himself.
She notes that he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, “You could say that.” She says when he starts to drink.
Laurence stands by her side, but he doesn’t say anything. Adelle wonders when they had gotten so comfortable with each other that they can drink in companionable silence wearing only their pajamas.
He’s watching at her. She pretends not to notice and focuses on her glass, which is almost empty. Looking back at the day, she has to admit that although they hit a few snags (like the power going back on a little too early), Plan B worked smoothly.
“How are your bruises?” she asks after a while. She puts the glass down and turns towards him.
“It’ll heal.” He answers, doing the same.
Adelle takes a step back and takes a look at the large, purple contusion on his left rib. She doesn’t know the reason behind it, but she reaches out and gently touches it. His skin is still a bit cool, from the cold compress. There doesn’t seem to be any serious swelling.
Slowly, her fingertips trail down his torso. She has this urge to touch him- to run her hands across his chest, his shoulders and his arms, just to know what it feels like. Her fingers brush against the scar by his stomach before she drops her hands to her side.
She lifts her head up and looks at him. His gaze is so powerful, it unsettles her.
“Erm.” She clears her throat, “Maybe we should-”
Not another word leaves her mouth as Laurence grabs her by her shoulders and covers her lips with his. Insistent and eager, it catches her off-guard, jolting her awake.
Nipping, pulling, tongue and teeth… she can’t help but readily respond to him. She’s always wanted to kiss him, just like this. Adelle rests her hands on top of his chest and he puts his hand at the small of her back, drawing her nearer, closing the very little gap they have between them.
Her backside hits the edge of the table. Laurence drags his mouth away from hers; trailing little kisses on her jaw and down her neck. And as his lips skim her skin, she lets her hands roam his body- chest, his back, abdomen, his arms… Laurence Dominic is all muscle, solid and strong, and she’s suddenly reminded how she feels safe whenever he holds her.
A tingle goes through her and a moan escapes her when she feels his tongue lightly tracing the side of her neck.
“What were you saying a while ago?” He asks as he starts unbuttoning her pajama top, “Maybe we should what?”
He looks at her, his gaze unwavering, as he opens the buttons of her shirt. The intensity of his blue eyes is making her body buzz in excitement. She wants this. She wants this so much, and she’s not going to stop herself, not tonight.
“I was saying that maybe we should get to bed.” She says, letting her hands trail downwards, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants.
Then she leans forward and kisses him, deeply, fiercely, that when she pulls away from him, they’re both out of breath.
“I think that’s a good idea.” He says breathing heavily. Without warning, he lifts her up and carries her to their room.
The next thing she knows, they’re in the room and he has dropped her on the bed. She doesn’t know when she lost her shirt, but she doesn’t care.
He pushes her on her back and it suddenly becomes a tangle of limbs, of kisses that make her forget everything, of tugging, pulling, rolling, caressing - rough hands, gentle hands - all driven by an urgent need (of want) that’s been bubbling over the surface for the past few weeks. She can feel his hardness pressing against her leg which makes her start pulling his sweatpants (why this has occurred to her only now, she doesn’t know).
God, she wants him inside her, right at this instant.
“Laurence.” She gasps out. She’s currently pinned underneath him.
“Don’t you think three years is enough of foreplay?” she asks when he looks at her. Her body feels like she’s on fire and she’s wet and ready, and she can tell from the way his muscles clench and the way he groans every time she touches him, that he wants this as badly as she does. She admires his self-control, but it’s something that’s not really wanted right now.
He smirks, “The three weeks we’ve been together is enough foreplay, actually.” He murmurs into her ear then pulls her pajamas off.
With one swift movement, he’s inside her. Her eyes squeezes shut as her hips rise, her back arches, and a moan leaves her lips.
When she opens her eyes again, she finds his blue eyes piercing her. Just the way he looks at her robs her of her breath. Then he starts to move. Slowly, deliberately. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she moves with him. This is torture.
It gets harder to take in air with his every stroke and every thrust. Adelle wraps her legs around his waist, urging him to go faster with each sway of her hips.
His pace quickens. Her vision starts to blur as she feels something growing within her, a pressure building up, waiting to burst. His thrusts grow deeper, reckless even, and she can sense- knows that she’s nearing that point.
She says his name, twice, thrice, and then, something breaks in her. Her breath gets stuck in her throat as she came, seemingly like a huge wave, hitting her, spreading pleasure through her. Another wave hits her as he reaches his peak, and it feels like everything inside her has shattered again.
Laurence collapses on top of her, breathing heavily. His heart is rapidly beating against hers. Adelle closes her eyes, taking in his weight. A smile flutters across her face.
He kisses her shoulder before rolling to the side.
“Ridiculous day.” She says, her words, slurring a bit. She tries to keep her eyes open, but they seem to get heavier by the second.
“Agreed.”
Adelle curls up beside him and falls asleep leaning on his shoulder.
~*~*~
He wakes up a few hours later, with the room still dark, and with Adelle sitting up on the bed, turned away from him. She is deep in thought, not noticing that he had awakened.
Laurence watches her and waits for her to move. He hears her breathe deeply and sighs, her hand rubbing the side of her head. He knew, at that moment, what she was thinking and it makes his heart sink a little.
He touches her elbow. She jumps slightly and she turns to look at him.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” she asks, softly
He looks at her and sees traces of apprehension on her face. He shakes his head.
Gently, he tugs her towards him and she lies down beside him, her back against his chest. Laurence brings the blanket up to their shoulders before draping an arm around her waist.
“You think too much.” he says, after what seems like an eternity.
A small laugh, “It’s a force of habit.” She answers. He hears her sigh once again and she rests her hand on his arm, “We’ll be back in LA in two weeks.” She says, her tone, solemn.
“Then we’ll make the best out of it.” He says. Laurence then presses his lips against her neck and buries his face in her hair. Tension starts to dissipate from her body.
Two weeks is such a short time.
chapter ten
Rating: R for language, violence and sex (Yes, you read this right)
Characters: Adelle, Dominic, Irina, Jack, Rachel, OC
Pairing: Adelle DeWitt/Laurence Dominic; Jack Bristow/Irina Derevko
Disclaimer: I do not own Dollhouse. Or Alias.
Words: 5, 320
Notes: Spoilers for season 1 of Dollhouse and season 5 of Alias
Also: brief backgrounder on the alias characters with pictures! and the previous chapters
Author's notes: I found this the most ridiculous chapter to write. It took me four days to write one scene. I apologize for the mistakes in advance.
The kitchen is already bustling with activity when she strolls in. The head chef’s barking orders to two other people, who are busy clanging the pots and pans.
She looks around. Most of the appetizers are finished.
“You’re a slave driver, Michel.”
The head chef, a huge, brown-haired, mustached man, stops talking and turns to face her. A big smile appears on his face.
She has known Michel Renault for some time now, and she knows him well enough to be comfortable with his presence and he knows her well enough to not ask a lot of questions.
He hurriedly goes towards her. He leans forward and kisses both her cheeks. He touches her shoulders and stares at her, “You are looking younger every time I see you, Irina.” He says.
She smiles, coquettishly, “You flatter me, Michel.”
“But it’s true!” he exclaims, “You give the twenty-year-olds a run for their money! What’s your secret?”
Irina tosses her head back and laughs, “That is just bordering into unbelievable. And you make it sound like I made a deal with the devil.” She says, resting her hand on his arm.
Michel waggles his brows, “Did you?”
She shakes her head, still smiling, “Well, if I did, I couldn’t really tell you, could I?”
He responds with a hearty laugh, “Ah, I missed you and your wit.” He remarks, “And when will your guests start arriving?”
A glance at her watch, “They’ll be here in thirty minutes.”
“Ah,” Michel says, “You have to leave the kitchen, then. I want to finish the rest of the hors d'oeuvre, and start on the main course.”
Irina smiles at him and squeezes his arm affectionately before walking out. She leaves the busy kitchen, goes past the dining room, into the living room then up to the second floor and goes out to the balcony.
She finds Jack seated on one of the chairs. His cell phone is on top of the patio table and he’s staring at the view in front of him. He immediately looks up when she steps out.
Irina goes to him and stands by his side. He puts his arms around her waist and he lets out a deep breath.
“Plan B’s going to work.” She says after a few minutes, “I know that you like Plan C because you want to frighten Ferguson and that you won’t ever see him again after that, but I think those two will succeed.”
He doesn’t say anything. She starts to gently rub the base of his neck and she feels the tension ease slightly.
“Ready for Ferguson?” she asks. Jack hadn’t really liked the man, and his dislike had intensified after the meeting last week.
“I take consolation on the thought that he’ll be unconscious for an hour.” He says and lifts his head up to look at her. He gives her a small smile.
Irina touches the side of his face. It thrills her that she’s seeing more and more of his smile. He’s such a serious man, even back then. There was a time when she thought she’d never see him smile at her ever again. For once in her life, she’s glad that she was wrong about that.
Jack takes her hand and kisses her fingers. “Our guests will be arriving soon. We should probably get dressed.” He says.
She smiles and takes Jack’s hand. She pulls him off the chair and tugs him to their room.
~*~*~
Adelle keeps the smile on her face as she watches Ferguson paces around in front of them. He’s very jittery, seemingly like an animal in a zoo. She first saw him as a very confident man, but the more they spend time with him, the more he seems to come off as unhinged.
“Are you all right?” she asks lightly. She puts her hands on her lap and tilts her head to the side. Ferguson stops pacing and glances at her. He smiles.
“I am.” He says a little too quickly, “I am. I’m just… I have something to discuss with Irina and I’m excited about it.”
She sees Laurence come out of the bathroom. Ferguson observes them as Laurence sits down beside her.
Laurence slips his arm around her and kisses her bare shoulder. Adelle turns her head and gives him a smile, which makes him lean in closer to kiss her lightly on the lips.
“This might sound a little intrusive, but I have to admit that I envy you two.”
They both glance at him. Laurence rests his chin on her shoulder and she rests her left hand on his back.
“What do you mean,” he asks, “You envy us?”
The tall man runs his hand through his black hair. “Because you have each other-despite what you do for a living.” He explains, “It’s like how Jack and Irina are, except at the same time, it’s not.”
“Oh,” Adelle says, but she’s not able to say anything more as Irina Derevko enters the room holding a bottle of wine. Jack follows behind her, carrying a tray of wineglasses.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Irina puts the bottle on top of the table, “We had a difficult time uncorking the bottle.” She looks pointedly at Jack, who gives her brief smirk. Adelle watches as Ferguson beams at the interaction. She can’t really understand why he can’t see it-why he can’t see how dangerous these two people are.
Jack hands her a glass of red wine before handing another one to Laurence. She takes a sip from the glass and keeps her eyes on Ferguson, who’s being handed a glass by Irina.
“I was telling Kyle and Cate how lucky the four of you are.” Ferguson says and starts drinking.
Irina pats his shoulder, “Don’t drink too fast.” She says to him, as if she’s talking to a little boy who has gotten his hands on a jar of cookies, “We still have dinner.”
Ferguson chuckles, “Of course, of course.” He says, grinning, “Don’t you want to hear why I think all of you are lucky?” he asks, good-naturedly, slightly waving his free hand around.
Irina gracefully sits down on an empty chair beside her, “Why are we lucky, Ferguson?” she asks. Ferguson is the center of their attention-the only actor in the stage with the four of them as his audience.
“You found each other. We’re all in this crazy world, crazier than normal I must say, and you found your… mate.”
Jack stands by Irina’s side, a little bit in front of her chair. He has one of his hands shoved in his pant pocket, “It’s not as easy as it sounds.” He has a defensive posture, as if he’s anticipating something violent to occur.
“Yes, well. Still.” He says. Ferguson starts pacing around, “You’re still together aren’t you?” He then glances at her and Laurence, “How hard is it for the two of you?”
They look at each other. They never had this kind of a discussion before. She can see him thinking and her mind races for a reason, something that is both accessible and plausible.
“We want children,” Adelle tears her eyes away from Laurence’s and looks back at Ferguson. His hold on her tightens but then quickly eases, “But we can’t really bring them into this… into our equation.”
“We have to quit, but we’re just too… involved with our jobs.” Laurence says and kisses her shoulder, “I’m more than willing to retire, but she’s not ready for that yet.” He adds.
“And he’s not the one who’s going to be pregnant.” She teases and plants a kiss on his cheek.
Irina’s laugh fills the room. Adelle leans against him and angles her head to look at his face. He has a smirk, but aside from that, the expression on his face is inscrutable.
Suddenly, they hear a loud thud and the sound of glass breaking. From where she’s seated, she can see Ferguson sprawled on the floor.
Laurence stands up and takes her wineglass from her hand as Jack puts his on the table and goes towards the unconscious body.
“Thirty minutes.” Irina says, starting the countdown. It will take ten minutes for them to dress down to the basic black burglar outfit (and ten minutes to dress up), ten minutes to go to Ferguson’s house and back. They have thirty minutes to go around Ferguson’s house and get to his office. It seems like they have a lot of time to steal the manuscript, but they will need all the time they have to avoid the fifteen men patrolling the house.
Adelle ties her hair up in a bun as she heads towards one of the rooms, with Laurence following a few steps behind her. The moment she hears the doors close, she takes off her heels and takes the clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser.
Before she unzips her dress, she stops momentarily and looks at her partner-in-crime. He has started to unbutton his shirt.
He flashes an inquiring look, “What is it?”
She purses her lips and shakes her head, “Nothing.” She turns away from him, “Never did it occur to me that I’d be comfortable dressing up, or rather, dressing down, with you in the room.” She says as she unfastens her dress.
“There have been a lot of surprises in this mission.”
And that was the truth.
Adelle quickly strips down to the basics and wears the cargo pants and the turtleneck. She takes off her jewelry and puts them on top of the dresser. She then takes the running shoes under the bed and sits on the chair.
“Your answer, that the Ascotts want children? That was pretty good.” She hears him say. She tightly ties the laces and looks up. He’s already standing, bouncing up and down.
“Children. Always a nice story.” She replies and stands up herself. “Are you ready, Mr. Dominic?” she asks.
Laurence takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Let’s do this.”
~*~*~
She patiently sits outside the café. The cool wind kisses her red, slightly sunburned cheeks. She’s lived in LA almost all her life and she’s been to a lot of places. For her, LA is the sunniest place on earth; four months ago, she discovers that she’s wrong.
“Oracle, are you in position?”
Rachel pretends to fix her hair. Her back is by the wall with the information on her laptop unseen by anyone but her, “That’s an affirmative, Evergreen.” She responds and looks around.
“Wait for my go signal.”
When people look at her, they see an approachable young blonde who likes to party. From the conversations she had with people, she knows that they underestimate her; that they think of her as a bit bimbo-ish. And truth is, she’s more than willing to let them believe that. Letting people think that she’s an airhead makes her job easier. It makes snooping around easier. And it means that no one will think that she can access and control the town’s power with just a few clicks on her computer.
Rachel takes a sip from her iced tea. This is the second to the last hurrah. She’s enjoying her stay in Ibiza, enjoying the attention she gets when she’s in the clubs, enjoying this pseudo-vacation, but she misses home. This isn’t some sort of infiltrate-the-Russian-mob type of mission- it’s actually a very light operation, only with very complicated people involved.
“Oracle, contractors are in place. You have the go signal.”
She stretches her fingers and starts typing. Seconds later, all the lights on the street and the establishments switch off and the town is suddenly blanketed in darkness. She hears several gasps of shock (or maybe of alarm). From her reconnaissance, she knows that this kind of incident rarely happens.
Rachel feels a bit of satisfaction settling in her stomach.
~*~*~
The back-up generators didn’t work, as planned, and they easily slipped through the iron gates undetected. So far, they haven’t had the chance to use their tranquilizers.
They hide by the bushes. They’re a few feet away from the front door-not that Adelle’s going to use it to enter the house.
Laurence peers through the shrubs. He can make out a few people assembling by the door and he can hear them talking about checking the generators and the fuse box, to find out why the back-up power isn’t kicking in.
They wait for the men finish the conversation. Two will check the fuse box, which is by the library, while two others will go to the other end of the property and check on the generators.
They start to move again, avoiding the beams of light from the flashlight when the men scatter. Adelle leads the way, as she has a better grasp of the landscape.
They make sure to stay within the shadows. The security rounds of Ferguson’s men don’t include the kitchen, which makes it their point of entry. When they reach the back door, Laurence swipes their dummy keycard and they stealthily slip inside the house.
They huddle behind the center table. Laurence opens the backpack he’s carrying and hands Adelle the night-vision goggles. As she wears them, he puts two small canisters of tear gas in the pockets of her pants. He then gives her the plastic cylindrical container for her to place the manuscript in.
Laurence looks at his watch. Twenty-five minutes left. He looks at Adelle, who also points to her wristwatch.
He nods his head. She then sneaks out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
He wears his night-vision goggles, takes the bag and goes out of the house. He slowly closes the door and goes towards the side. He runs his hands in the shrubs to find the thick metal rod which the agents from the reconnaissance mission installed. When he finds it, he kneels on the grass and starts taking the spool of cable from the bag and the industrial-strength magnets Mr. Plum provided for them.
His ears strain to hear the guards as he installs the spool and the magnets. He didn’t exactly feel safe using only magnets to attach the spool to the metal pole, but before they left for Ibiza, Mr. Plum had demonstrated the strength of the magnets using two cars.
Laurence glances at the time. Twenty-three minutes.
He squats behind the bushes and waits for Adelle. Splitting up wasn’t the original plan, but after what happened to him in Ferguson’s office, they decided that it will be for the better if they did.
Time crawls. He keeps himself from looking at his watch every second.
And then, he sees a beam of light. He hears someone talking. It’s a man’s voice and he seems to be talking to someone through a two-way radio.
Laurence freezes. His fingers curl tightly around his tranq gun. The man is by the kitchen door.
He considers incapacitating the guard if he doesn’t move from his position. There’s no way Adelle can get out of the house through the kitchen door if there’s someone in front of it.
He waits. After a few seconds, the man starts walking to the side.
Laurence holds his breath. The cable isn’t noticeable, but there’s still a chance that the man is observant enough to see the small fraction of light bouncing off from the shiny surface of the spool.
The man stops in front of the cable and looks about. He flashes his light around.
Somehow, he points his flashlight towards his direction
“HEY!” the man shouts and reaches for his walkie-talkie.
Laurence acts fast. He pulls down the goggles from his eyes and sprints away from his position. He quickly kicks the radio away from the man’s hands.
The man stumbles backwards, but immediately recovers from his attack. He grabs Laurence’s arm and starts throwing punches at him. The man is taller than him by a several inches, and definitely larger than him. He can’t avoid all his blows, and they’re too near each other that he can’t shoot him with his tranquilizer.
Laurence kicks the man’s knee. The man grunts. He kicks the knee again. This time, he hears something crack and the man falls down with a shout of pain. He takes a quick step back and shoots the man.
He bends forward, resting his hands on his knee as relief courses through him. His side is starting to twinge, but he ignores it. After a quick second, he grabs the man’s ankles and starts to drag him behind the bushes. He takes the flashlight from the ground and turns it off while the two-way radio is thrown off the cliff.
He hurriedly goes to the cable and starts preparing for the jump. He looks at his watch. Eighteen minutes.
After a few seconds, Adelle appears.
“I got it.”
“Jump off point.” He replies and gives her the carabiners and the clamps as he takes the plastic cylinder from her.
He shoves the container in his bag and zips it up. He then grabs the clamp at the end of the cable and follows Adelle to her position.
They are a few inches away from the edge. Laurence can feel the small rocks crumbling under his shoes and falling to oblivion. But the wind isn’t blowing, which is a very good thing.
They’re already wearing the safety harnesses around their waist and legs. Laurence hooks the end of the cable to himself and he fastens the other hook on his waist on the strap on Adelle’s waist. He pulls her towards him and she puts her arms around his torso. He does the same.
Her heart is racing. She’s terrified of jumping off the cliff. She never admitted it out loud, but he knows.
The lights around the house begin to flicker. Then a light on the second floor goes on.
Someone has fixed the generator.
“Go?”
“Yes.”
And they jump.
The air blasts on his face and the feeling of rapidly falling down several hundred feet and seeing nothing of the danger is making his blood rush through his veins.
He forgets everything that happened before this and focuses on this moment- jumping off a cliff without the fear of being cut by the large, jagged rocks beneath the towering crag. Jumping off a cliff without any fear of death.
He feels so alive.
And just as quickly as it started, it ends. A brief and painful jolt goes through both of them as the rope recoils.
He keeps his arms locked around Adelle’s body. Her face is against his chest, her legs wrapped around his legs and her body is pressed very tightly against his. And as they dangle upside down, he doesn’t let go of her.
Excitement pounds in his head. Laurence feels laughter bubbling inside him.
“Are you okay?” he finally asks. Adrenaline is still pumping in his body.
She doesn’t speak. Her heart is hammering against his chest. Laurence starts to rub his hand across her back.
“Adelle?” he asks again after a while.
“I’m… I’m fine.” Her voice is a little shaky.
He continues to knead his hand on her back. He suddenly feels himself grinning. He’s going to do this again- not with the same scenario, of course, but God, he’ll do this again when this mission is finished.
“I’m going to release you first. Hold on to my arms, I’m going to help you down.” He says when a few minutes had passed.
“Okay.”
Laurence disengages the hook and takes hold of Adelle’s forearms. Gradually, she lowers her legs and slowly finds her footing on the ground. He then unhooks himself from the cable and lowers himself on the sand.
When he’s steadily standing on both his feet, he slowly pulls the wire downwards and when he feels a click, immediately releases it. The cable quickly retracts upward, being pulled in by the spool.
He lets out a hoot. “Wasn’t that fun or what?” he asks giddily, with the pain from being punched by a giant man, forgotten. He fights the urge to jump up and down like an excited kid high on sugar.
“Yes, it was.” Her tone is brittle. She looks at her watch, “We should get to the extraction point.”
He reaches out to her and takes her hand. He squeezes it reassuringly before letting her go. She drops her hand to her side.
“Let’s go.”
~*~*~
The room is still spinning when he opens his eyes. He groans, audibly, and shuts his eyes again.
“Ferguson, darling, how are you feeling?”
He opens his eyes again and finds Irina’s concerned face hovering above him. He blinks and shakes his head.
“Not too good.” He answers and makes no move to sit up, “What happened?”
“We don’t know. You were talking one minute and then you were on the floor, unconscious.” Irina answers, “When you didn’t wake up after a few minutes, we called a doctor. But he hasn’t arrived yet. There’s been a blackout.”
“There’s no need for a doctor, I’m feeling all right now.” He pushes himself up to sitting position. He feels his body swaying and it took a lot of concentration for it to stop. “How long have I been out cold?” he asks before he started looking around the room.
“Forty-five minutes.” Irina sighs and peers at him worriedly, “You’re having more and more of this fainting spells, Ferguson. You scared all of us back there. Perhaps you should go see a doctor.”
“No. No doctors. I’m perfectly healthy, Irina. This is just stress.”
He hates doctors, he hates hospitals. Under no circumstance will he see any of it willingly. He’ll see them when he’s dead.
“Then de-stress, darling.” She purrs, “If you don’t, you’ll end up in the hospital. And I know how much you hate hospitals.”
He shudders at the thought. It’s laughable-a grown, rich man afraid of hospitals and doctors.
Irina pats him on the shoulder and smiles.
Ferguson smiles back at the older woman. He doesn’t know how a woman branded a terrorist by various intelligence agencies around the world can be so gentle. He knows that he shouldn’t want to see that side of her and he doesn’t.
“They served dinner a few minutes ago. Jack is with the Ascotts. We should join them.”
He nods his head. He slips off the bed and stands up. He’s thankful his knees doesn’t buckle.
“I am not comfortable with talking about Rambaldi in the presence of the Ascotts.” He says offering his arm to his companion as they start walking towards the door.
“Why not?”
“I don’t think they will understand. I don’t want to talk about the apocalypse in front of a couple who wants to have children.”
She gives him a curious look and then nods her head. “That’s… very thoughtful of you.” She says as they step out of the room.
There’s a part of him that’s starting to think he’s slowly going insane from worrying about something a 15th century man wrote about.
“And besides, I don’t want them to think I’m crazy.” He says.
“I understand the feeling.”
Ferguson takes a deep breath. He has time to prepare for the apocalypse. The end of the world isn’t going to happen tomorrow.
He has time.
~*~*~
She’s in her pajamas, standing by the dining table, drinking a glass of vodka. What happened a few hours ago was one of the most terrifying things to have happened to her. It was also a strange one. After jumping off a cliff, they have to act as if nothing of that sort occurred and instead, pretend to have been worrying about the man whom they stole from.
It was also quite difficult to act worried when adrenaline was still rushing through her body.
Adelle drains the glass of the drink and takes the bottle to pour herself another round. There’s something satisfying about feeling the vodka burning down her throat after this hectic, stress-inducing day. She should probably go to bed after this.
She’s almost finished with the second round when Laurence approaches her.
“Celebrating?” he asks and pours a drink for himself.
She notes that he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, “You could say that.” She says when he starts to drink.
Laurence stands by her side, but he doesn’t say anything. Adelle wonders when they had gotten so comfortable with each other that they can drink in companionable silence wearing only their pajamas.
He’s watching at her. She pretends not to notice and focuses on her glass, which is almost empty. Looking back at the day, she has to admit that although they hit a few snags (like the power going back on a little too early), Plan B worked smoothly.
“How are your bruises?” she asks after a while. She puts the glass down and turns towards him.
“It’ll heal.” He answers, doing the same.
Adelle takes a step back and takes a look at the large, purple contusion on his left rib. She doesn’t know the reason behind it, but she reaches out and gently touches it. His skin is still a bit cool, from the cold compress. There doesn’t seem to be any serious swelling.
Slowly, her fingertips trail down his torso. She has this urge to touch him- to run her hands across his chest, his shoulders and his arms, just to know what it feels like. Her fingers brush against the scar by his stomach before she drops her hands to her side.
She lifts her head up and looks at him. His gaze is so powerful, it unsettles her.
“Erm.” She clears her throat, “Maybe we should-”
Not another word leaves her mouth as Laurence grabs her by her shoulders and covers her lips with his. Insistent and eager, it catches her off-guard, jolting her awake.
Nipping, pulling, tongue and teeth… she can’t help but readily respond to him. She’s always wanted to kiss him, just like this. Adelle rests her hands on top of his chest and he puts his hand at the small of her back, drawing her nearer, closing the very little gap they have between them.
Her backside hits the edge of the table. Laurence drags his mouth away from hers; trailing little kisses on her jaw and down her neck. And as his lips skim her skin, she lets her hands roam his body- chest, his back, abdomen, his arms… Laurence Dominic is all muscle, solid and strong, and she’s suddenly reminded how she feels safe whenever he holds her.
A tingle goes through her and a moan escapes her when she feels his tongue lightly tracing the side of her neck.
“What were you saying a while ago?” He asks as he starts unbuttoning her pajama top, “Maybe we should what?”
He looks at her, his gaze unwavering, as he opens the buttons of her shirt. The intensity of his blue eyes is making her body buzz in excitement. She wants this. She wants this so much, and she’s not going to stop herself, not tonight.
“I was saying that maybe we should get to bed.” She says, letting her hands trail downwards, stopping at the waistband of his sweatpants.
Then she leans forward and kisses him, deeply, fiercely, that when she pulls away from him, they’re both out of breath.
“I think that’s a good idea.” He says breathing heavily. Without warning, he lifts her up and carries her to their room.
The next thing she knows, they’re in the room and he has dropped her on the bed. She doesn’t know when she lost her shirt, but she doesn’t care.
He pushes her on her back and it suddenly becomes a tangle of limbs, of kisses that make her forget everything, of tugging, pulling, rolling, caressing - rough hands, gentle hands - all driven by an urgent need (of want) that’s been bubbling over the surface for the past few weeks. She can feel his hardness pressing against her leg which makes her start pulling his sweatpants (why this has occurred to her only now, she doesn’t know).
God, she wants him inside her, right at this instant.
“Laurence.” She gasps out. She’s currently pinned underneath him.
“Don’t you think three years is enough of foreplay?” she asks when he looks at her. Her body feels like she’s on fire and she’s wet and ready, and she can tell from the way his muscles clench and the way he groans every time she touches him, that he wants this as badly as she does. She admires his self-control, but it’s something that’s not really wanted right now.
He smirks, “The three weeks we’ve been together is enough foreplay, actually.” He murmurs into her ear then pulls her pajamas off.
With one swift movement, he’s inside her. Her eyes squeezes shut as her hips rise, her back arches, and a moan leaves her lips.
When she opens her eyes again, she finds his blue eyes piercing her. Just the way he looks at her robs her of her breath. Then he starts to move. Slowly, deliberately. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she moves with him. This is torture.
It gets harder to take in air with his every stroke and every thrust. Adelle wraps her legs around his waist, urging him to go faster with each sway of her hips.
His pace quickens. Her vision starts to blur as she feels something growing within her, a pressure building up, waiting to burst. His thrusts grow deeper, reckless even, and she can sense- knows that she’s nearing that point.
She says his name, twice, thrice, and then, something breaks in her. Her breath gets stuck in her throat as she came, seemingly like a huge wave, hitting her, spreading pleasure through her. Another wave hits her as he reaches his peak, and it feels like everything inside her has shattered again.
Laurence collapses on top of her, breathing heavily. His heart is rapidly beating against hers. Adelle closes her eyes, taking in his weight. A smile flutters across her face.
He kisses her shoulder before rolling to the side.
“Ridiculous day.” She says, her words, slurring a bit. She tries to keep her eyes open, but they seem to get heavier by the second.
“Agreed.”
Adelle curls up beside him and falls asleep leaning on his shoulder.
~*~*~
He wakes up a few hours later, with the room still dark, and with Adelle sitting up on the bed, turned away from him. She is deep in thought, not noticing that he had awakened.
Laurence watches her and waits for her to move. He hears her breathe deeply and sighs, her hand rubbing the side of her head. He knew, at that moment, what she was thinking and it makes his heart sink a little.
He touches her elbow. She jumps slightly and she turns to look at him.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” she asks, softly
He looks at her and sees traces of apprehension on her face. He shakes his head.
Gently, he tugs her towards him and she lies down beside him, her back against his chest. Laurence brings the blanket up to their shoulders before draping an arm around her waist.
“You think too much.” he says, after what seems like an eternity.
A small laugh, “It’s a force of habit.” She answers. He hears her sigh once again and she rests her hand on his arm, “We’ll be back in LA in two weeks.” She says, her tone, solemn.
“Then we’ll make the best out of it.” He says. Laurence then presses his lips against her neck and buries his face in her hair. Tension starts to dissipate from her body.
Two weeks is such a short time.
chapter ten