Okay so...
I'm not exactly proud of this piece :P It was written in the late hours (now) after I've had a craaaaap week and am exhausted and just otherwise depleted. It hasn't been proofread because honestly my head is about to explode and I wouldn't force anyone to beta this thing for me :P
I'm posting it here only because I needed a place that would allow 1,500+ words that I could link back to the thread at Whedonland for the challenge for which this was written. So I apologize all my F-listers in advance! Don't feel obligated to read this...and if this is the first thing you read of mine...please don't judge me solely on this alone :P
Title: Or Never
Fandom/Pairing: Dollhouse, Victor/Sierra, Sierra/Topher Friendship
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
“Okay.” Topher conceded between gasps as he plopped himself down heavily on the cushioned chair. “You are the ultimate queen, empress and goddess of laser tag. This time.”
“You know it.” Friend!Sierra boasted, laser gun resting on her hip. “You giving up the attempts at the title for good? Cuz I mean, if all you want is the tiara I’ll give it to you. God knows it’ll look better on you, princess.”
“Oh, you are so,” a deep breath, “dead when I,” another, “recuperate. Damn doll.”
“Dude, you’re not nearly suave or deep enough to pull off 1940’s lingo. You’re just embarrassing yourself.” Sierra teased him, offering him her hand.
“Don’t- I am so- You know what?”
“You should really sit down and have a juice box before you start to try for human speech again.” She said, pushing him in the back to propel him back into his office level. “Also, maybe consider taking a walk sometime? Maybe breathe some real air?”
“And waste my energy on activities below my level of brilliance? Why would I do that?” Topher replied smugly, gratefully sinking into his couch, lasertag gear still on.
“Oh I don’t know, so your lungs don’t give out and you don’t die of asphyxiation panting over of these half-naked babes?” Sierra smirked, chucking her exhausted friend the requisite box of sugar.
“Ah, see? I don’t pant. I ogle. It’s a lot safer, trust me.” He replied, self-touted wisdom lighting his face.
“Freak.” Sierra shook her head in amusement. “So what do you want to do now?”
“Die?”
“And give your boss and coworkers the satisfaction? Nah.” Sierra dismissed the plan. “Besides, who else would I spend this day with? It’s a day of mischief and sneaky coolness. Totally for us, man.”
“You make a good point.” The genius man-boy replied, stroking an invisible beard. “Then...BSG reruns? Oh! I downloaded the latest Big Bang Theory. Yeah?”
“No and hellz no. All you do is drool during BSG and I’m starting to think it’s more about the possibility of wiring these guinea pigs so they’ll be able to interact with an invisible person and less about the hot chicks. Frankly that disturbs me. And all you do during BBT is bitch about equations you can’t possibly know anything about given that your fields are completely different and gloat over the fact that although you’re a bigger nerd than they are, you have a much cooler life and hotter friends.”
“Well I do...and how cool would that be!?!? I could implant that invisible person’s information into a kind of .zip file to store in their brains that they could access! It would be like having two brains in one!” He bounced excitedly on the couch, completely rejuvenated through his enthusiasm.
“Topher. Down.” Sierra commanded. “Besides, I’m not spending November the 5th doing something as mundane as watching tv. We need to do something cool, something against the rules.”
“Something that uses tools? And stumps fools? And involves swimming in pools? And-”
Sierra smirked again and threw the pillow at her side straight at his face, enjoying the small shriek that accompanied the impact. When her prey recovered the projectile and turned it into a protective shield, she got her laser gun back into attack mode.
“Okay! Wait! I have an idea that satisfies all your conditions!” He pled, eyes screwed shut, pillow out to protect him against the nasty, painless laser...
“Keep talkin’” She smirked menacingly.
“You just gotta help me mess up the security cameras.” He said with a mischievous grin.
“And then?”
“And then do something you’ve been begging for since...forever.” He grinned naughtily.
“Why Mister Brink, I do like where this is headed.” Sierra approved with a wiggle of her brow.
An hour later, the cameras securely frakked with and Topher supposedly “on the job to fix them, stop hassling me!”, the two amigos were huddle in the chair room.
“Listen, I know you’re not going to but to raise the level of suspense: Swear to me you’ll never repeat what you saw here today.” Topher demanded, his features schooled in a dramatic expression.
“I solemnly swear.” She replied in kind.
“...that you are up to no good?” They didn’t both giggle at that. They were way too cool for that.
“So what are you putting in his head?” She asked her genius bud while she ogled the handsome doe-eyed man reclining in THE chair.
“A little somebody who was supposed to get lost a while back...seriously, don’t tell anyone.” Topher explained, just a tiny inkling of nervousness creeping in so late in the game.
“I promise....do it!”
Slowly, Topher slid the imprinted software into the chair’s component and activated the transfer. Sierra watched in morbid fascination as the hot guy writhed on the chair, his head encompassed in blue light. Finally when the light faded and the chair came back into a seated position, the man’s eyes held much more than their previous vacant contentment.
“Hello, Roger.” Topher greeted, rocking excitedly on his feet. “Is there something you’d like to say?”
Roger looked confused for a moment and touched his face. “I believe I’ve forgotten something.”
“Oh, sorry, my bad.” Sierra smiled sweetly, bringing her hands out from behind her back, a mask in hand. “Here you go.”
“Okay can we not flirt with the active?” Topher groused.
“Thank you.” Roger replied to Sierra, ignoring the other man in the room. He put the white mask on his face and paused a moment before beginning:
“Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.”
There was silence in the room. And then there wasn’t.
“Siiiiiiiiiiiiick! That was awesome!” Sierra gushed excessively. “The accent totally made it!”
“Told ya!” Topher grinned broadly, his eyes barely visible through the smug expression.
“Yo,” she said quietly, turning her back to Roger who was now sitting aimlessly, “what else can you make him do?”
Topher looked at her face and rolled his eyes.
“I will not be your pimp. He’s going back to Lala-land now.” He said, reactivating the chair. “Say byebye to your little Bond!man.”
Sierra came around the chair to take the Guy Fawkes mask off his face and started a bit at the tingle that assaulted her fingertips where they brushed his skin and hair. She didn’t know this guy outside of being one of the Empties in this joint...but she felt sad at the idea of seeing him go back to those vacant eyes.
“Goodbye.” He replied cheerfully, that accent still doing a number on her.
“Yeah, later.” She tried to grin back.
The blue light haloed his face again and this time she was less curious about its morbidity and more about if he was really in pain. When it receded, she let out the breath she’d been unconsciously holding and smiled for real.
“Hello Victor.” Sierra greeted softly, not noticing the look of fear and shock on her buddy’s face.
“Did I fall asleep?” He asked innocently, his head tilting slightly to the side.
“For a little while, pal. Why don’t you go now?” Topher rushed in, ushering the active (gently) out of the chair room before turning back to Sierra who had seemingly already forgotten about what had transpired.
“So what’s next?” She asked him. “Please say pizza, I am starving.”
“How about a treatment first?” He said hesitantly, hoping to anyone who’d be listening in that she’d accept the command prompt.
“You know what? That sounds even better.” Sierra replied, snapping her fingers into guns and hopping into the chair. “But after that it’s a Meat Lover pie, yeah?”
“For sure.” Topher replied half-heartedly, commencing the imprint wipe and fervently monitoring the screen to make sure everything happened as it should. When she rose from the chair with that usual serene smile, he felt slightly reassured but not completely. His eyes followed her from his observation deck and was simultaneously happy and unnerved when she headed straight to Victor.
Dewitt would have to be informed of this, this was crazy-ass behaviour. Imprinted dolls shouldn’t recognize other dolls if he didn’t tell them too, and they certainly shouldn’t be generating prompt speech. He looked down on the couple, which by now he couldn’t deny as a couple, and what was left of his heart tore for them. In a way he felt he was witnessing one of the purest things anyone had ever had the privilege of seeing. But Dewitt would have to be told. After he fixed the wiring. And cleaned up after his day with Sierra. And he had a lot of paperwork to do and laundry! Well, he didn’t do his own laundry but he certainly had to get someone to come get it from his room...so yeah, maybe he’d have time to tell her tomorrow or the day after. Or never.
I'm posting it here only because I needed a place that would allow 1,500+ words that I could link back to the thread at Whedonland for the challenge for which this was written. So I apologize all my F-listers in advance! Don't feel obligated to read this...and if this is the first thing you read of mine...please don't judge me solely on this alone :P
Title: Or Never
Fandom/Pairing: Dollhouse, Victor/Sierra, Sierra/Topher Friendship
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
oooooooooooooooooooooooo
“Okay.” Topher conceded between gasps as he plopped himself down heavily on the cushioned chair. “You are the ultimate queen, empress and goddess of laser tag. This time.”
“You know it.” Friend!Sierra boasted, laser gun resting on her hip. “You giving up the attempts at the title for good? Cuz I mean, if all you want is the tiara I’ll give it to you. God knows it’ll look better on you, princess.”
“Oh, you are so,” a deep breath, “dead when I,” another, “recuperate. Damn doll.”
“Dude, you’re not nearly suave or deep enough to pull off 1940’s lingo. You’re just embarrassing yourself.” Sierra teased him, offering him her hand.
“Don’t- I am so- You know what?”
“You should really sit down and have a juice box before you start to try for human speech again.” She said, pushing him in the back to propel him back into his office level. “Also, maybe consider taking a walk sometime? Maybe breathe some real air?”
“And waste my energy on activities below my level of brilliance? Why would I do that?” Topher replied smugly, gratefully sinking into his couch, lasertag gear still on.
“Oh I don’t know, so your lungs don’t give out and you don’t die of asphyxiation panting over of these half-naked babes?” Sierra smirked, chucking her exhausted friend the requisite box of sugar.
“Ah, see? I don’t pant. I ogle. It’s a lot safer, trust me.” He replied, self-touted wisdom lighting his face.
“Freak.” Sierra shook her head in amusement. “So what do you want to do now?”
“Die?”
“And give your boss and coworkers the satisfaction? Nah.” Sierra dismissed the plan. “Besides, who else would I spend this day with? It’s a day of mischief and sneaky coolness. Totally for us, man.”
“You make a good point.” The genius man-boy replied, stroking an invisible beard. “Then...BSG reruns? Oh! I downloaded the latest Big Bang Theory. Yeah?”
“No and hellz no. All you do is drool during BSG and I’m starting to think it’s more about the possibility of wiring these guinea pigs so they’ll be able to interact with an invisible person and less about the hot chicks. Frankly that disturbs me. And all you do during BBT is bitch about equations you can’t possibly know anything about given that your fields are completely different and gloat over the fact that although you’re a bigger nerd than they are, you have a much cooler life and hotter friends.”
“Well I do...and how cool would that be!?!? I could implant that invisible person’s information into a kind of .zip file to store in their brains that they could access! It would be like having two brains in one!” He bounced excitedly on the couch, completely rejuvenated through his enthusiasm.
“Topher. Down.” Sierra commanded. “Besides, I’m not spending November the 5th doing something as mundane as watching tv. We need to do something cool, something against the rules.”
“Something that uses tools? And stumps fools? And involves swimming in pools? And-”
Sierra smirked again and threw the pillow at her side straight at his face, enjoying the small shriek that accompanied the impact. When her prey recovered the projectile and turned it into a protective shield, she got her laser gun back into attack mode.
“Okay! Wait! I have an idea that satisfies all your conditions!” He pled, eyes screwed shut, pillow out to protect him against the nasty, painless laser...
“Keep talkin’” She smirked menacingly.
“You just gotta help me mess up the security cameras.” He said with a mischievous grin.
“And then?”
“And then do something you’ve been begging for since...forever.” He grinned naughtily.
“Why Mister Brink, I do like where this is headed.” Sierra approved with a wiggle of her brow.
An hour later, the cameras securely frakked with and Topher supposedly “on the job to fix them, stop hassling me!”, the two amigos were huddle in the chair room.
“Listen, I know you’re not going to but to raise the level of suspense: Swear to me you’ll never repeat what you saw here today.” Topher demanded, his features schooled in a dramatic expression.
“I solemnly swear.” She replied in kind.
“...that you are up to no good?” They didn’t both giggle at that. They were way too cool for that.
“So what are you putting in his head?” She asked her genius bud while she ogled the handsome doe-eyed man reclining in THE chair.
“A little somebody who was supposed to get lost a while back...seriously, don’t tell anyone.” Topher explained, just a tiny inkling of nervousness creeping in so late in the game.
“I promise....do it!”
Slowly, Topher slid the imprinted software into the chair’s component and activated the transfer. Sierra watched in morbid fascination as the hot guy writhed on the chair, his head encompassed in blue light. Finally when the light faded and the chair came back into a seated position, the man’s eyes held much more than their previous vacant contentment.
“Hello, Roger.” Topher greeted, rocking excitedly on his feet. “Is there something you’d like to say?”
Roger looked confused for a moment and touched his face. “I believe I’ve forgotten something.”
“Oh, sorry, my bad.” Sierra smiled sweetly, bringing her hands out from behind her back, a mask in hand. “Here you go.”
“Okay can we not flirt with the active?” Topher groused.
“Thank you.” Roger replied to Sierra, ignoring the other man in the room. He put the white mask on his face and paused a moment before beginning:
“Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.”
There was silence in the room. And then there wasn’t.
“Siiiiiiiiiiiiick! That was awesome!” Sierra gushed excessively. “The accent totally made it!”
“Told ya!” Topher grinned broadly, his eyes barely visible through the smug expression.
“Yo,” she said quietly, turning her back to Roger who was now sitting aimlessly, “what else can you make him do?”
Topher looked at her face and rolled his eyes.
“I will not be your pimp. He’s going back to Lala-land now.” He said, reactivating the chair. “Say byebye to your little Bond!man.”
Sierra came around the chair to take the Guy Fawkes mask off his face and started a bit at the tingle that assaulted her fingertips where they brushed his skin and hair. She didn’t know this guy outside of being one of the Empties in this joint...but she felt sad at the idea of seeing him go back to those vacant eyes.
“Goodbye.” He replied cheerfully, that accent still doing a number on her.
“Yeah, later.” She tried to grin back.
The blue light haloed his face again and this time she was less curious about its morbidity and more about if he was really in pain. When it receded, she let out the breath she’d been unconsciously holding and smiled for real.
“Hello Victor.” Sierra greeted softly, not noticing the look of fear and shock on her buddy’s face.
“Did I fall asleep?” He asked innocently, his head tilting slightly to the side.
“For a little while, pal. Why don’t you go now?” Topher rushed in, ushering the active (gently) out of the chair room before turning back to Sierra who had seemingly already forgotten about what had transpired.
“So what’s next?” She asked him. “Please say pizza, I am starving.”
“How about a treatment first?” He said hesitantly, hoping to anyone who’d be listening in that she’d accept the command prompt.
“You know what? That sounds even better.” Sierra replied, snapping her fingers into guns and hopping into the chair. “But after that it’s a Meat Lover pie, yeah?”
“For sure.” Topher replied half-heartedly, commencing the imprint wipe and fervently monitoring the screen to make sure everything happened as it should. When she rose from the chair with that usual serene smile, he felt slightly reassured but not completely. His eyes followed her from his observation deck and was simultaneously happy and unnerved when she headed straight to Victor.
Dewitt would have to be informed of this, this was crazy-ass behaviour. Imprinted dolls shouldn’t recognize other dolls if he didn’t tell them too, and they certainly shouldn’t be generating prompt speech. He looked down on the couple, which by now he couldn’t deny as a couple, and what was left of his heart tore for them. In a way he felt he was witnessing one of the purest things anyone had ever had the privilege of seeing. But Dewitt would have to be told. After he fixed the wiring. And cleaned up after his day with Sierra. And he had a lot of paperwork to do and laundry! Well, he didn’t do his own laundry but he certainly had to get someone to come get it from his room...so yeah, maybe he’d have time to tell her tomorrow or the day after. Or never.