HAPPY BIRTHDAY JANE!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY lil_kaylee_frye !!! Hope you have a great day honey! :D
Two Alpha/Whiskey fics and some Barney/Dean icons...
Always:
Alone in the staff bathroom at the Dollhouse, Claire Saunders surveyed her reflection in the mirror over the sinks. The pads of her fingertips moved over the scars, tracing their soft ridges. Sometimes they appeared so faded that they were almost invisible, but this was not one of those times. When she thought about how she had gotten them, it hurt more than any physical scar ever could. Alpha. Carl William Craft. The number one dolls at the Dollhouse; the two most requested actives. At least that was how it was supposed to be; how it used to be until Echo anyway. That morning Claire had treated the doll formally known as Caroline Farrell, bandaging a broken wrist she had sustained during her latest engagement. It was hard to be cool and professional in Echo’s company, even if Topher had programmed her to be that way. If she thought to hard about what Echo’s existence had cost her, Claire felt she could quite easily have taken the nearest scalpel to the active’s pretty face.
She still had not completely grieved. Not for Alpha, nor for her places Whiskey rather than the aloof and reserved doctor, but for what had been ripped away from her so suddenly and inexplicably. Her finger traced the scar that marred her forehead now, remembering how she had not felt the cold sting of metal cutting through the flesh on her brow, but rather in her heart. She should have known Alpha would tire of her eventually, the way he did with almost everyone and everything else. But why Echo? What did she possess that Whiskey hadn’t?
Claire felt tears burn in her eyes but she fiercely blinked them back. It was no use crying over Alpha, she knew she was better off without him. Wasn’t she? Better off without his cold love, his dominating presence and his violent way of making love to her that made her scream in both pain and ecstasy. He had not only tossed her and her feelings aside, he had damaged her for the future. No one wanted to hire an imperfect doll with a face lined with scars, not even if she was the infamous Whiskey.
What sickened her more was looking at Victor’s scar free face despite his own run in with Alpha. Adelle DeWitt had shelled out for Victor’s appearance, but Claire supposed she shouldn’t be surprised, she had seen the way she looked at the young active. It still hurt that Adelle was willing to make allowances for Victor, but not for Whiskey.
She remembered the night Alpha had returned to the Dollhouse with the aid of Paul Ballard only too clearly. The feelings that accompanied the visit had not been forgotten either, because no matter how badly he had treated her, however much he had change her life and altered her appearance Claire Saunders; Whiskey, would always love Alpha.
Parents:
The original Doctor Saunders stood to once side of his office, his hands nervously twitching at his sides as he tried to explain this to Adelle DeWitt as calmly as possible. There was no way in heaven or hell that she was going to take this news well though, no one in her position would. As he had expected, Adelle looked as if smoke was about to erupt from her ears and her hands were bunch into fists in her thick, chestnut hair.
“You’re sure?” She asked, though if anyone had the nerve to be joking about something this serious at the Dollhouse, they would be sent to the Attic so fast that their heads would spin. Saunders nodded slightly, just the smallest jerk of his balding head. “You’re telling me that one of my Actives is pregnant; that my best active is pregnant?”
It was clearly rhetorical but Saunders nodded anyway. “It explains why Whiskey went AWOL on her last assignment.”
“Well, yes, it does rather tie up the loose ends.” Adelle replied tartly. “But still, aren’t all of the female Actives on the birth control pill?”
Saunders looked sheepish, turning away from the power of Adelle’s gaze. “Yes, yes of course. But these things are never one hundred percent accurate.”
“Evidently not.”
Adelle turned on her high heels and was about to stalk over to where Whiskey lay on the examination table, blissfully unaware of the fractious argument taking place around her and to her condition. Saunders caught Adelle by the arm.
“Ms. DeWitt,” He began awkwardly, coming to perhaps the most difficult part to explain. “We know who fathered the child.”
“Probably more than we can say of Whiskey, don’t you think?” Adelle shot back, her voice and her glare as sharp as daggers.
Saunders sighed. “It was Alpha. Whiskey is pregnant with Alpha’s baby.”
The blow came just as Adelle thought she had taken the brunt of more than she could bear. How was she going to explain this to the Rossum Corporation? Suddenly her head began to pound and she looked for a sharp shot of vodka.
“You’re sure?” She asked, yet again.
“His DNA was already in the system. It’s a match.”
“Oh dear God.” Adelle rubbed her throbbing temples, trying to think of a practical solution to this. Many things had gone wrong since she had been running the Dollhouse, but nothing of this proportion. She took a breath, held it and exhaled. “Here’s what we’ll do. For now we’ll carry on as normal, finish with Whiskey here and send her back downstairs. Give me some time to think about this.” She was on her way out of the doctor’s office when she turned around again. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will make sure the consequences cause you extreme pain.”
Saunders didn’t doubt her, not even a little bit.
None the wiser to what had happened, Whiskey walked down the stairs and joined her fellow Actives. She smiled and exchanged ‘good days’ with Juliet and Yankee, before she spotted Alpha. He wore a smile of his own when he saw her and both of them looked shyly at each other, like two teenagers on their very first date.
Watching from her office, Adelle observed the interaction between the two Actives. She watched the coy smiles and the way Whiskey nervously tucked her wavy brown hair behind her ears every now and then. She sucked in a breath when she saw Alpha take Whiskey’s hands, slipping his fingers through her’s. The gesture was simple but romantic and Adelle was even more confused about what to do.
Icons:
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