TITLE: Dollhouse: DC
AUTHOR: brave-little-toaster
RATING: PG-13 for now.
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own BtVS and Dollhouse. I’m just twisted enough to try to put them together in some form or another.
FEEDBACK: Makes me do the Snoopy happy dance of glee.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: After much debate in my head, no Epitaph. This has excerpts from season 2 episode 2, and fits into episodes 2, 3, and 4. Many thanks to Binky for reading my rough draft and helping me improve it!
- - -
Ballard was sitting in Topher’s seat, and the techie didn’t like it. His seat, in front of his computer, in the room next to his lab. Sure, Ballard was new here, but shouldn’t he know enough not to sit in another person’s seat?
Topher cleared his throat as he turned from the refrigerator, Mountain Dew in hand. “Can I get in there? I want to make a few last checks on Echo’s imprint.” A sheepish smile graced Topher’s face.
Immediately, Ballard jumped up. “Oh, yeah.” He paused, at a loss for what to say, as the other man crossed the room. “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous. You know, first engagement and all.”
Pulling up a colorful brain scan, Topher pointed to a purple section. “See this?” He waited for Ballard’s nod. “It means that even if all hell breaks loose, Echo will still recognize you and come with you for her treatment.” Ballard nodded again, and Topher clicked a few more things on screen. “And… all done!”
At that moment, DeWitt walked in. She looked at Ballard, raising an eyebrow. “Are you ready for your fist engagement as Echo’s new handler?”
- - -
Now-Senator Perrin was sitting at a computer in a rather spacious looking household office. Just inside the door, a thin girl wearing a suit was standing so still that she could have been a statue, except for the occasional eye movement and the steady rise and fall of her shoulders that indicated her breathing.
Willow watched Perrin shake his head and sigh in frustration for what must have been the hundredth time that day. She looked out the large window, saw only the lovely outside garden, as usual. Her eyes glided along the bookshelves, slowly but surely, just to make sure that nothing had moved. Allowing her mind to linger for a moment, she read a few of the titles on the shelves. Law books. Then she began her circuit sweep of the room again, starting with Perrin.
The bodyguard jumped slightly as Perrin began to talk loudly, but clearly not to her. “I think I made a mistake.” Cindy’s footsteps began to approach the room. Willow knew it was her without even looking, the same way she knew the sound of Xander’s footsteps upstairs. Being around the same people for months on end makes them easily identifiable, and intruders even easier to identify. “Do you think I jumped the gun?”
“Which gun?” His wife’s voice was approaching from down the hallway.
“Press conference. I was hoping when we went public, more witnesses would come forward.”
Willow allowed her eyes to sweep the room once more, then stepped just outside the door to allow the couple some privacy. Perrin had been under an incredible amount of stress recently, mostly because he was so bound and determined to expose the fact that Rossum was doing society so many wrongs. He had proof of money laundering, but he wanted more. When he had appealed to the public, though, all he had gotten was an ex-rocker with a tin-foil hat who claimed to be a werewolf that had been victimized by the Rossum Corporation. Apparently they had mailed his liver to Saturn.
Couple the stress with the fact that Cindy had just walked into Perrin’s office wearing little more than a robe, and Willow was sure that there would be very little productive work accomplished in the next couple hours.
A little bit less than a minute after she stepped out of the office, Willow heard the doorbell ring. When Cindy moved toward the door to get it, Willow positioned herself at an angle so she would be able to see who was there before Cindy could.
Cindy and Willow shared a look after the door opened.
Nobody was there, but there was a thick file folder on the door mat.
- - -
Late that night, Willow and Xander were sharing a pot of coffee at a kitchen counter.
Xander’s face was one of utter disbelief, and his voice portrayed the same feeling. “I always thought it was just talk. I mean, it couldn’t be real.” He looked up at his co-worker as he finished talking.
The red-head shrugged. “I don’t know, Xan. You heard them talking, just as plainly as I did. The Dollhouse is real, and I think we’re about to stumble into the middle of it, if we haven’t already.”
Both bodyguards just sat there for a moment, not moving. Willow’s voice broke the silence. “Wanna spar?”
He gave her a dry smile. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
- - -
Tango and Echo were sitting next to each other at a small, square table. Both were staring at their plates, not even indicating that they noticed the other.
When Tango was about halfway through her pancakes, she felt something on her cheek. She looked just to her left, where Echo was sitting. The other girl’s hand was lightly running over the stitches on Tango’s face.
Placing down her knife and fork, Tango began to cry. Echo covered her friend’s left hand with her own right.
Echo sat, watching her friend for a few minutes. Once Tango’s tears slowed a little bit, Echo leaned over and whispered quietly in her friend’s ear. “You’ll be your best again soon. Don’t worry, they make your cheekbones more pronounced. I’m sure that Red will think that they’re smoking hot.”
Tango laughed, although there were still tears on her cheeks.
- - -
Echo was sitting on one of the many long couches in the Dollhouse. In her lap, she held a rather large book. Langton approached Echo, hesitated for a moment, then sat down next to her.
He spoke quietly. “I didn’t know you could read.”
“I like looking at the words.” A small smile crossed the brunette’s face.
Langton nodded, then got up and left Echo to her activity.
- - -
DeWitt, Langton, Ballard, Giles and Topher were sitting around a TV in DeWitt’s spacious office. On screen, they were watching the replay of a press conference that a senator from New York had called.
Senator Perrin was standing at a podium on a small, brightly lit stage. He spoke slowly and clearly to the crowded room. “I have a witness that lost 3 years of her life, and a family that lost their daughter to the Dollhouse. If you would give them a chance, they have statements prepared.”
The first witness, a girl who had been named “November” as an active, stepped up to the podium. Ballard’s face clearly fell as he watched her clear her throat, preparing to speak. She made her statement, but none of the people in DeWitt’s office heard a word of it. They were too shocked.
A minute later, a man with graying hair stepped onstage. Immediately, DeWitt began to curse. “That bastard. After the state that Echo found his daughter in, he should be in jail!” Giles shushed her, wanting to hear what the father of his active had to say.
- - -
At the press conference in DC, Willow was standing just out of the sight of the press. She was scanning the crowd, prepared to pull Perrin offstage at a moment’s notice if something went wrong.
She heard the witness say something about a missing girl, and looked at the projection screen for a moment. At least, she meant to look only for a moment.
What caught her attention was the blonde hair, but the half smile and eyes made her keep her eyes on the screen. It was a picture of the same girl she had been drawing for months.
Tara. Her name was Tara Maclay, and her family was looking for her. They suspected her disappearance had something to do with the Dollhouse.
- - -
Sierra descended the stairs from Topher’s lab, slowly and carefully. When she got to the bottom, she noticed Victor standing there.
Smiling, she took his hand and they walked towards the pool together.
- - -
From her space on a small padded bench, Echo watched Victor and Sierra walk away. A few moments later, Ballard approached her. He was babbling on about how he was sorry, for things he knew she couldn’t even remember.
She cut him off. “I remember all of them.” Ballard looked at her, shock clearly written on his face. “Sometimes, I’m one of them. Sometimes, I’m all of them. But none of them is me. None of them are real. Who am I? Who is real?” Her tone was calm, and her expressions unreadable. Unless anyone else had just over heard her, no one would have known that she just made one of the most profound statements an active shouldn’t make.
Ballard just nodded. “Caroline. You’re Caroline.”
- - -
Tango was in her bed, looking at the inside cover of her journal. Tara.
Just then, the glass cover slid open and Echo slipped inside, her own journal in hand. As soon as she was on her stomach next to the blonde, Echo began to flip through the last dozen or so pages she had written in. She spoke quickly and quietly, with a sense of urgency in her voice.
“I remember them. Different pieces, different times, but they’re all there, waiting to come out.” The brunette seemed to find the page she was looking for. She circled a section before handing the journal to Tango. “More importantly, I remember you. Or at least what I met of you. Read it.”
Reading the pages, Tango began to feel distressed. Her name was, in fact, Tara. Her father and brother had spent most of her adult life abusing her in a religious cult, after she had told them that she was gay.
Tango began to cry, and Echo took that as her cue. She gently slipped the journal from between the blonde’s hands and quietly left.
- - -
When Willow went to relieve Xander around midnight, she had her sketch pad and a newspaper with her. Tucking the paper under her arm, she opened up the pad to the first page.
She looked her co-worker in the eye. “I drew this when we first started working for Perrin.” Xander looked confused, and Willow took the paper out from under her arm, showing him the picture of Tara on the front page, the same one from the press conference earlier in the day.
Realization crossed his face, and was quickly replaced by more confusion. His eyes drifted from the sketch pad to her. “How…?”
Willow shrugged and shook her head slightly. “Until today, I had never seen this girl before. Not even a picture, but I was able to draw this.” The man’s eyes left the paper, and met his colleague’s eyes. “ Xan, I think we’re in deeper than we thought.”
- - -
The next day, Echo opened the book she had been ‘looking at’ the previous day. Inside the book, she found something that clearly didn’t belong there, and hadn’t been there the day before. She picked up the folded piece of paper from in between two of the pages, opening it carefully.
Someone had written the words “FOR THE STORM” on the paper. In the middle of the paper, Echo found herself looking at an all-access card for a Rossum Corporation building.
- - -