Operation Goliath - Chapter 5
Title:Operation Goliath - Chapter 5
Author:Peniketty
Pairing/Characters: Paul Ballard
Rating:NC-17
Warnings:Some chapters contain scenes of violence and strong language
Spoilers: None as set before Dollhouse
Disclaimer: I do now own Dollhouse or any of the characters. They belong to Mr. Whedon
Word Count:1384
Summary:Takes a look at what happened to Paul before he was assigned the Dollhouse case.
6 Months later.
His heart was thundering against his chest and his breath came in short gasps, burning through his lungs and throat. His skin was glistening with moisture and he felt beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He licked his lips and lifted his eyes to the person standing opposite him and as their eyes met he knew it was over. He tensed his fists within the heavy boxing gloves and flew at his opponent. As his gloved hand connected with the other man’s jaw he smiled to himself, watching as the force of his blow snapped the guy’s head to the side. Blood and spit streamed from his opponent’s mouth landing on the boxing ring. Bouncing back on the balls of his feet he watched with glee as the other man fell to the floor and stayed there. Hitting his gloves together in front of him he let out a shout of triumph while the crowd gathered around the ring cheered.
“Awesome Karl!”
“Way to go man!”
“Yeah! That was fucking brilliant! Another knock out!”
Paul lifted his arms in the air while he revelled in the praise coming from all around him. He glanced at his opponent, still unconscious in the middle of the ring, and felt nothing. The guy was sprawled on his back, his nose broken and twisted and a pool of blood forming where his mouth met the boxing ring. He didn’t know who he was and he didn’t care. He had just been another person to beat, another person to leave broken in the ring. Paul had quickly begun to get the reputation of being one hard bastard and it was a reputation he had every intention of keeping.
He had almost freed his hands of the cumbersome gloves when he felt soft, smooth arms slide around his body. He turned round and met Tasha with a deep kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. She pulled away, a sly grin on her face, “Hey Tiger, great fight. I do love to see you all sweaty…” She began to gently run her fingers over his torso, making her way down to where his shorts began. He smiled and, finally getting rid of the gloves, began snaking his hands through her hair and pulling her into another kiss.
“Yo, dude, get a room! Urgh, that’s my cousin man!”
Paul tuned and looked at Tom. He laughed, loving how uncomfortable he was making him, before turning back to look at Tasha.
“What do ya say gorgeous, wanna get out of here?”
“Well…that depends. What did you have in mind?” she replied, a cheeky glint in her eyes.
He laughed again as he picked her up in a fireman’s lift, clambered over the ropes and preceded towards the men’s changing rooms.
“Hey guys, no one’s to disturb us until we’re done, ok?”
Leaving her cousins cries of disgust behind, and with Tasha giggling uncontrollably over his shoulder, Paul made his way towards the changing rooms, his mind already racing with ideas of what he would do with her once they got there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later on that same afternoon, back in the bed at his apartment, Paul looked down at Tasha as she slept snuggled against his chest. She was breathing gently, a small smile on her face, and her hair flowing down her exposed back. The sun, which was streaming in through the window, lit up her face in its golden glow and warmed both their bodies. As he looked at her his heart began to fill with an array of emotions. He was falling for this girl. The knowledge hit him like a train and hurt him to his very core. He loved Jo but being with Tasha had been necessary. He had had no choice in the matter. However it hadn’t been necessary for him to grow so attached to her, to create such a bond, to begin falling in love with her. She was an amazing girl though, full of life and energy. Paul was sure it would be impossible for any man not to fall for her.
After meeting Jacob six months ago he and the brothers had hit some bars and clubs and Tasha had come along with them. They had spent the whole night together, leaning in close to speak over the loud music and ignoring everyone else around them. She had told him about her parent’s death and her love for her Uncle and cousins. She told him how she owed them everything, that without them she would have been alone in the world, and that she would do anything for them. Paul had told her some things about himself but it had all been lies, fabricated by the FBI, and he had felt like a complete bastard. She had been so open and he had told her nothing real. Later that night they had danced, Tasha pulling herself close to him and laying her head on his chest.
They had taken things slow. Paul saying he needed to speak to Jacob and the lads before they became official but in truth he had had to adjust to the idea himself. He knew he was attracted to her but he just could not come to terms with cheating on Jo. If she ever found out he didn’t think their relationship would survive. He had tried to picture his life without Jo but he couldn’t. She had always been there and she was a part of him, there was no future without her.
In the end he had done the only thing that would get his through the rest of this assignment. He had pushed Paul Ballard and everything about his life to the back of his mind and had taken on the persona of Karl Holland completely. The relief this had bought him had been immense and unexpected and it had allowed his relationship with Tasha to develop at a natural pace. It had also allowed him to disconnect from the work Jacob sent his way on an almost daily basis. It made the drug dealing and beatings easier. Karl Holland would enjoy this type of thing, so Paul had begun to enjoy it. He began going out with the lads and drinking more, he had even started looking forward to his next job and had begun training at the gym a few times a week to be more prepared.
It was at quiet times like this, with Tasha lying by his side, that Paul’s conscious would begin nagging him. It told him that what he was doing was wrong, that this job was not worth his life, his marriage and his future. It told him he wasn’t the same man he was, that he had broken his promise to Jo in so many ways. It told him to stop, to go home and be with his wife. It was then he would remember all the people killed by the Van Dynes, the women and girls raped and the misery caused and he knew he had to keep going. Each week he would go to a different phone booth and call his handler, Anna. Once a fortnight they would meet at some random dive of a motel and he would pass on any information gathered in the hope that it would help in building a case up against the family. They needed to be punished for their crimes, that much was clear, but what about his crimes? Who would punish him for his multitude of sins? If this worked, if he bought this family down, he would be labelled a hero.
He laughed gently to himself. Him? A hero? It was ridiculous. He was nothing but a liar, a cheat and a fraud. He reached towards the bedside table and grabbed the bottle of JD sat there. Taking a large gulp he felt the liquid burn down his throat, distracting him from the voice in his head telling him this was all wrong. Alcohol was the only thing that drowned it out now and he found himself relying on it more and more. Half a bottle later he began to feel better. The voice in his head finally shut up and he found himself drifting off to sleep, a smile on his face.
Author:Peniketty
Pairing/Characters: Paul Ballard
Rating:NC-17
Warnings:Some chapters contain scenes of violence and strong language
Spoilers: None as set before Dollhouse
Disclaimer: I do now own Dollhouse or any of the characters. They belong to Mr. Whedon
Word Count:1384
Summary:Takes a look at what happened to Paul before he was assigned the Dollhouse case.
6 Months later.
His heart was thundering against his chest and his breath came in short gasps, burning through his lungs and throat. His skin was glistening with moisture and he felt beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. He licked his lips and lifted his eyes to the person standing opposite him and as their eyes met he knew it was over. He tensed his fists within the heavy boxing gloves and flew at his opponent. As his gloved hand connected with the other man’s jaw he smiled to himself, watching as the force of his blow snapped the guy’s head to the side. Blood and spit streamed from his opponent’s mouth landing on the boxing ring. Bouncing back on the balls of his feet he watched with glee as the other man fell to the floor and stayed there. Hitting his gloves together in front of him he let out a shout of triumph while the crowd gathered around the ring cheered.
“Awesome Karl!”
“Way to go man!”
“Yeah! That was fucking brilliant! Another knock out!”
Paul lifted his arms in the air while he revelled in the praise coming from all around him. He glanced at his opponent, still unconscious in the middle of the ring, and felt nothing. The guy was sprawled on his back, his nose broken and twisted and a pool of blood forming where his mouth met the boxing ring. He didn’t know who he was and he didn’t care. He had just been another person to beat, another person to leave broken in the ring. Paul had quickly begun to get the reputation of being one hard bastard and it was a reputation he had every intention of keeping.
He had almost freed his hands of the cumbersome gloves when he felt soft, smooth arms slide around his body. He turned round and met Tasha with a deep kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth. She pulled away, a sly grin on her face, “Hey Tiger, great fight. I do love to see you all sweaty…” She began to gently run her fingers over his torso, making her way down to where his shorts began. He smiled and, finally getting rid of the gloves, began snaking his hands through her hair and pulling her into another kiss.
“Yo, dude, get a room! Urgh, that’s my cousin man!”
Paul tuned and looked at Tom. He laughed, loving how uncomfortable he was making him, before turning back to look at Tasha.
“What do ya say gorgeous, wanna get out of here?”
“Well…that depends. What did you have in mind?” she replied, a cheeky glint in her eyes.
He laughed again as he picked her up in a fireman’s lift, clambered over the ropes and preceded towards the men’s changing rooms.
“Hey guys, no one’s to disturb us until we’re done, ok?”
Leaving her cousins cries of disgust behind, and with Tasha giggling uncontrollably over his shoulder, Paul made his way towards the changing rooms, his mind already racing with ideas of what he would do with her once they got there.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later on that same afternoon, back in the bed at his apartment, Paul looked down at Tasha as she slept snuggled against his chest. She was breathing gently, a small smile on her face, and her hair flowing down her exposed back. The sun, which was streaming in through the window, lit up her face in its golden glow and warmed both their bodies. As he looked at her his heart began to fill with an array of emotions. He was falling for this girl. The knowledge hit him like a train and hurt him to his very core. He loved Jo but being with Tasha had been necessary. He had had no choice in the matter. However it hadn’t been necessary for him to grow so attached to her, to create such a bond, to begin falling in love with her. She was an amazing girl though, full of life and energy. Paul was sure it would be impossible for any man not to fall for her.
After meeting Jacob six months ago he and the brothers had hit some bars and clubs and Tasha had come along with them. They had spent the whole night together, leaning in close to speak over the loud music and ignoring everyone else around them. She had told him about her parent’s death and her love for her Uncle and cousins. She told him how she owed them everything, that without them she would have been alone in the world, and that she would do anything for them. Paul had told her some things about himself but it had all been lies, fabricated by the FBI, and he had felt like a complete bastard. She had been so open and he had told her nothing real. Later that night they had danced, Tasha pulling herself close to him and laying her head on his chest.
They had taken things slow. Paul saying he needed to speak to Jacob and the lads before they became official but in truth he had had to adjust to the idea himself. He knew he was attracted to her but he just could not come to terms with cheating on Jo. If she ever found out he didn’t think their relationship would survive. He had tried to picture his life without Jo but he couldn’t. She had always been there and she was a part of him, there was no future without her.
In the end he had done the only thing that would get his through the rest of this assignment. He had pushed Paul Ballard and everything about his life to the back of his mind and had taken on the persona of Karl Holland completely. The relief this had bought him had been immense and unexpected and it had allowed his relationship with Tasha to develop at a natural pace. It had also allowed him to disconnect from the work Jacob sent his way on an almost daily basis. It made the drug dealing and beatings easier. Karl Holland would enjoy this type of thing, so Paul had begun to enjoy it. He began going out with the lads and drinking more, he had even started looking forward to his next job and had begun training at the gym a few times a week to be more prepared.
It was at quiet times like this, with Tasha lying by his side, that Paul’s conscious would begin nagging him. It told him that what he was doing was wrong, that this job was not worth his life, his marriage and his future. It told him he wasn’t the same man he was, that he had broken his promise to Jo in so many ways. It told him to stop, to go home and be with his wife. It was then he would remember all the people killed by the Van Dynes, the women and girls raped and the misery caused and he knew he had to keep going. Each week he would go to a different phone booth and call his handler, Anna. Once a fortnight they would meet at some random dive of a motel and he would pass on any information gathered in the hope that it would help in building a case up against the family. They needed to be punished for their crimes, that much was clear, but what about his crimes? Who would punish him for his multitude of sins? If this worked, if he bought this family down, he would be labelled a hero.
He laughed gently to himself. Him? A hero? It was ridiculous. He was nothing but a liar, a cheat and a fraud. He reached towards the bedside table and grabbed the bottle of JD sat there. Taking a large gulp he felt the liquid burn down his throat, distracting him from the voice in his head telling him this was all wrong. Alcohol was the only thing that drowned it out now and he found himself relying on it more and more. Half a bottle later he began to feel better. The voice in his head finally shut up and he found himself drifting off to sleep, a smile on his face.