Title: Enemies of My Soul, Conspirators in Pajamas (An Epic Alias-Dollhouse Crossover)
Rating: R for language, violence and sexual implications
Characters: Adelle, Dominic, Sierra, Victor, Claire, Boyd
Pairing: Adelle DeWitt/Laurence Dominic; brief Sierra/Victor and Claire/Boyd
Disclaimer: I do not own Dollhouse. Or Alias.
Words: 4, 720
Notes: Spoilers for season 1 of Dollhouse and season 5 of Alias.

Also: The previous chapters

Author's Notes:I have every intention to finish this fic. I was just busy with... things. XD

And I apologize for any mistakes in advance. I hope you enjoy :D



At the start of this story, armed men storm into DeWitt’s office and shoot her.

We go back three months earlier. Jack Bristow has employed the services of the Dollhouse to help in the retrieval of a manuscript. However, instead of hiring Actives, he employs DeWitt and Dominic for the engagement, stating that Rossum Corp. agreed to it. Dominic is de-Atticized and was promised by the company that he’ll be set free after the operation.

The two are briefed, and it is learned that DeWitt can take care of herself if ever she finds herself in a middle of a gunfire. There is tension between the two of them, but they pull off their cover story, an arms dealer and a contract killer married to each other. Sierra and Victor are their back-up, while Echo is left in Los Angeles and serves as a point of contact between the CIA and the Dollhouse.

DeWitt and Dominic are invited by Ferguson, their target, to his home. Unfortunately, Ferguson’s security precautions against thieves has a nasty effect on Dominic which led to the failure of Plan A. Immediately after the failure of Plan A, DeWitt gets high accidentally after drinking a spiked drink in the party.

Meanwhile, in the Dollhouse, there’s been a security breach in the computer networks. Boyd asks Topher to create an imprint to fight off the hackers. Boyd then learns that Topher fears for DeWitt’s safety and is monitoring Dominic’s stats during his free time.

Things between DeWitt and Dominic get lighter after the drug incident. Dominic learns that DeWitt is formerly an SIS agent. They then execute Plan B (which involves jumping off a cliff) with the help of Jack Bristow, Irina Derevko and Rachel Gibson.

After the retrieval of the manuscripts, DeWitt and Dominic finally got to the sexy smexings.

Now, on to Chapter 10










Chapter Ten
They’re making up for the last three-and-a-half years they’ve wasted dancing around each other, controlling their impulses and keeping to their duties. And he now knows the real reason why they avoided acting on their not-so-professional urges. And it wasn’t because it would have been inappropriate. No, it’s much simpler than that.

The real reason behind it is that somehow, they knew that they would like it too much.

Adelle crumples on top of him, breathless, her body still shuddering. Laurence can’t bring himself to speak, as he’s also out of breath. He rests his hands on her back and inhales deeply. God, she’s addicting.

He runs his fingers on her bare back. He remembers those times when they walked beside each other too closely, how their hands would accidentally touch and how neither of them tried to keep their distance.

“For three years, I’ve always wondered what would happen if… you know.” He says after a while.

She lifts her head up to look at him. A thoughtful expression passes her face, “Is it what you expected?” she asks with a hint of curiosity in her tone.

“Better.” He answers, “Better than I’ve anticipated.”

Adelle flashes a somewhat shy smile before rolling to his side. He pulls her towards him and she rests her cheek on his chest, “I must admit that there were times when you’d start ranting about security that I was tempted to grab you by your tie and kiss you.”

“To shut me up?” he replies, teasingly as he rubs his thumb on her knee, tracing small circles on her skin. She moves, closer to him. He revels in how she reacts to his touch, revels in the way he reacts to her. He didn’t know how badly he wanted this, how badly he wanted her until he got it. There’s a part of him that doesn’t want to let her go. Two weeks is such a short time. He doesn’t want it to end.

She chuckles, “No, not at all. I remember when I first met you, I thought of you as a confident man, who’s rather quiet. I actually thought you’d be boring. Then you got angry and I saw differently.”

“You thought I was going to be boring?” he asks, disbelievingly. He might be a bit of a homebody, but that doesn’t mean he’s boring.

Adelle glances at him, “Yes, I did.” She replies, her green eyes twinkling, “I wasn’t entirely wrong about it— not that I’m complaining.”

Just the way she’s looking at him right now makes something flutter in his stomach. He pushes that feeling away before grinning at her. She smiles widely at him before putting her head on his chest once again.

They lay on the bed in silence. He likes the way how she fits beside him, how content he feels with her body pressed against him, how the sheets are twisted around their entangled legs. It’s not going to last forever. They have two weeks and after that, they go their separate ways, their paths likely to never cross again.

“What do you want to do today?” he asks when he hears her let out a satisfied sigh.

“Do nothing and stay in bed all day.”

“Tempting.” He replies and shifts his position so that they’ll be face to face. He likes looking at her face, “I suppose you prefer it if we’re naked in bed?”

She leans in and kisses him, “Of course.” She answers, “Breakfast in the room, then?” she asks.

Laurence doesn’t answer her. Instead, he kisses her, deeply this time. He hears a small sound of approval from her and he lets his hands trail on her body.

“Later.” He answers and rolls on top of her to cover her body with his.

~*~*~

She sits by the fountain, basking in the glorious heat of the sun and enjoying the relative silence of the area as she waits for James to finish shopping for a birthday gift for his little sister.

Their fourth week in Ibiza seems to have flown by pretty quickly. And it’s been fun. She can’t remember enjoying a mission this long when all she did was to be the back-up for the main players. She also can’t believe that DeWitt and Dominic got through the operation without any obvious trouble (aside from the fact that Plan A didn’t work).

And James has been so much fun to be with. They rarely get to be teamed-up in these kinds of missions— which is strange since they’re attracted to each other. She finds it odd that their bosses would rather team them up in high risk operations – where their feelings for each other might get in the way of the goal – and not in undercover operations where their attraction for each other can be used.

Ellen closes her eyes and hums quietly as a soft breeze blows her blonde hair away from her face. They’ll be leaving a few days earlier than DeWitt and Dominic. Hopefully, the two won’t get into any serious trouble. Even if she’s a very competitive soul, she knows that those two are very competent contractors. And they worked together so well—with the exception of the time when Dominic botched up an operation, DeWitt blows her top over it, and the two got into a fight which involved guns and knives.

She sighs. Whatever bad blood between them is gone, she thinks. She’s seen how they acted around each other, the little things. It’s funny, actually. She finds it so funny that she might have something to tell Brink when they get back to HQ.

She hears her phone beep. Ellen takes her cell phone from her purse and finds a text message. She reads the message and then erases it. She sighs and stretches her legs as she waits for James to arrive.

“Hey.” A glance up and she sees James holding a small paper bag.

“Did you find the perfect gift?” she asks. He grins and nods his head, “Can I ask what it is?”

“You can, but I don’t want you saying anything to Abby, so I’m going to keep it a secret.” He says, his eyes filled with glee, as he holds out his free hand towards her.

He has such kind eyes. She often wonders how someone so gentle and caring can be capable of brutality. She knows that such polarity exists in everyone, but she’s never met anyone who’s equally comfortable and uneasy with it as James is.

Ellen takes his hand and he pulls her to her feet, “We’re meeting Mr. Brown.” She says, linking their fingers together as they start to walk to their rented car.

“Usual place?” he asks.

“Yup.”

They reach the car. James opens the driver’s side, puts the paper bag on the backseat and starts the engine. She slips inside the passenger seat and after a few seconds, they’re roaring off.

The drive is short. After a few minutes, they arrive in front of a bungalow where they’ve been meeting Mr. Brown once a week.

Ellen steps out of the car and looks around. There’s a black van in by the side of the house, which always seems to be there when they meet. She assumes that it’s Mr. Brown’s ride. Snazzy.

She and James walk towards the front door. The inside of the house is bare and they go past the living room and through the dining area. They find Mr. Brown seated by the table in the middle of the kitchen.

“Mr. Brown.” James says. “Nice to see you again.”

“Mr. Keene.” Mr. Brown greets and looks at her, “Ms. Charleston.”

She takes the seat across Mr. Brown while James leans on the doorway.

“I have what your employers requested.” Mr. Brown says and puts a briefcase on top of the table and pushes it towards her.

She tilts her head to the side, “You don’t mind if we check it, don’t you?” she says as her fingers move to the latch.

“Go ahead.” he acquiesces.

Ellen unfastens the lock and flips open the case. Pieces of olden paper wrapped in separate sheets of plastic sits inside the briefcase. She glances at James, who motions her to inspect them.

Almost all the pages have scribbles on them, and seem to be slowly decomposing as the minutes pass. It’s a bit confusing and she doesn’t see the relevance of it to their big boss up in their food chain. A page, however, catches her interest—it was a sketch of a chair. Her eyes narrow. It seems familiar, and yet… she shakes the thought away and looks at Mr. Brown.

“I really can’t believe we went through all that effort to get a picture of a chair.” she says, amusingly. James cranes his neck to see what she’s referring to and she shows him the page.

“It’s a five-hundred-year old drawing.” Mr. Brown dryly says as he stands up, “Your employers will be expecting that—”

“—I don’t understand, Mr. Brown.” James interrupts and blocks the doorway, “You hired our company to assist you in retrieving… that.” He points to the contents of the briefcase, “And it turns out that it’s something of interest to our company?”

Ellen watches as the two men square off. Mr. Brown is taller than James, and though he might be restricted by the suit he’s wearing, she’s pretty sure James and Mr. Brown will be evenly matched.

She too stands up and steps away from the chair, sandwiching Mr. Brown between her and James.

The older man glances at her before turning his attention back to James, “That’s only part of what we retrieved from Ferguson’s house. We have what we want, and we’re giving what your company wants. It was the deal.”

James stares at Mr. Brown. After a second or two, he steps aside.

“The manuscripts have been checked. If your superiors have any problems with it, they contact Mr. Black.” He then gives a slight nod to the two of them before leaving wordlessly.

Ellen puts the pieces of paper back inside the briefcase and locks it. James takes it from her and they start to walk out of the kitchen. She links their arms together.

“Can you imagine? Disintegrating pieces of paper and sketches of a chair.” She says, almost disbelievingly, “It’s a little silly, don’t you think?”

“They’re the CIA.” He answers, “And you, being a former CIA agent, should know about these kinds of things.”

“My assignments didn’t involve these… things.” She replies. They go out the door and make their way to the car.

Ellen glances to her left and sees that the black van is still there. Then, she notices a man and a woman approaching them.

“Sierra.”

“Victor.”

She and James look at each other. Ellen drops her hand to her side as the man walks towards her.

“Would you like a treatment?”

~*~*~

He finalizes his report, one of the many he has done in the past few weeks since DeWitt has been gone.

The investigation on the security breach has been completed and it wasn’t an attempt on the Dollhouse’s computer networks. Instead, it seemed to have tried to get through the R&D department’s network.

They’ve taken care of it now. It was a harmless bug, with no lasting impact on the system.

Boyd carefully reads the report one last time before pressing print. He stands up and walks towards the adjacent area, where two men are overseeing the security feeds.

“Have we heard from Ramirez?” he asks as his eyes scan the monitors.

“She just called a few minutes ago, sir. They just reached the Barcelona House with Victor and Sierra.”

“No complications?”

“None at all, sir.”

He lingers around for a few minutes, watching the screen and listening to the calls before going back to his desk and taking his report from the printer.

He walks out of his office and observes the people milling about in the lower floor. From where he stands, he can see that the art class is in session with four or five Actives participating. On the couches are two, three Actives, sharing a picture book.

He glances at his watch. He has a lot of time, he thinks, and starts to walk around. The past few weeks have been slow for the House, since new clients won’t be entertained until after DeWitt gets back from Ibiza.

Mike, whose wrist is in a cast, is being led out of Dr. Saunders’s office by his handler. They might not be accepting new clients at the moment, but it doesn’t mean that all engagements had been uneventful.

Boyd knocks on Dr. Saunders’s door before sticking his head inside.

“Hey.” She’s putting back Mike’s folder on the shelf. “How’s Mike?” he asks as he steps inside her office.
He always finds time to drop by her office every time he takes a walk around the facility. He sometimes feels like, although she cares for the Actives very much, she still needs someone else to interact with even if it’s just for small talk. He also wants to invite her for lunch, but he still hasn’t found the courage to ask the question.

Claire looks at him, “I can only clear him for light engagements.” She stresses as she turns around.

“For how long?” he walks closer to her desk.

“A week. Two, at the most.” She takes a glance at the papers in his hands, “I see you’re finished with your weekly report.” She says and stands behind her table.

He gives her a small smile, “I don’t know if DeWitt’s able to read the brief reports I’ve been sending through the encrypted channel.”

“Knowing DeWitt, she probably has read all of them.” she replies a bit dryly and fixes her (uncluttered) desk.

“Well, she still needs to sign them.”

Claire takes off her lab coat and drapes them over the back of her chair. Boyd wordlessly watches as she stands behind her chair and dodges his gaze.

When she doesn’t say anything else after a few minutes, he starts to leave.

“Boyd.” She calls out.

He stops and looks at her.

“Do you think…” she trails off, unsure on how to ask the question. Boyd walks away from the doorway and goes closer to her.

Claire takes a deep breath, “Can you join me for lunch?” she asks.

He hides his surprise. For a few seconds, he’s rendered speechless by her request.

“I understand if—”

He breaks into a smile, “I’ll be happy to join you for lunch.” He says earnestly.

Relief appears on her face, “Thank you.” She replies, as she smiles back at him.

“Uh,” Boyd taps his fingers on his report, “I’ll bring this up to DeWitt’s office then we can…?”

“Yes, of course.” She answers.

He takes one last glance at the Doctor before leaving the office with a smile and feeling considerably lighter than he first entered.

~*~*~

She doesn’t want to go back to Los Angeles.

Adelle presses her lips together and looks her reflection in the mirror. There is a reason why she never takes a break from work for more than seventy-two hours. The longer she gets separated from the House, the harder it is for her to convince herself to go back.

The desire to run away grows stronger with every single day that passes. She wants to escape from Adelle DeWitt, from Rossum, from the responsibilities that she doesn’t want to bear any longer. Every day, she gets reminded on how easy it is to disappear.

But she can’t. She likes to think it’s the strong urge of duty that urges her to stay, but she knows, deep within her, that she’s just too afraid to leave everything that she’s grown accustomed with.

So, for the first time in four weeks, she thinks about her House. Mr. Langton has sent her a concise version of his weekly reports, but this is the only opportunity she has had to read them. Apparently, she has several injured Actives and somehow, someone had greatly angered the head chef that he had threatened to quit, but her Head of Security has taken care of that.

She rereads reports. She suddenly thinks about the accumulation of paperwork that is waiting for her when she gets back. Not only that, there are also a number of people whom she has to meet with to expound on the services they offer.

“Cate?”

She looks up from the laptop monitor and sees the bathroom door opens. Laurence enters.

“Hey.” He greets. He drops the small duffel bag on the other side of the granite counter, “You're still here.” He remarks. She accessed the reports two hours ago, before he went for his swim.

Adelle gives him a brief smile, “I’m rereading Mr. Langton’s reports.”

“Ah.” He shuts the door and goes towards the wardrobe. He takes out a shirt from the closet before tugging off the one he’s wearing.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, standing shirtless in the middle of the room.

She blinks and realizes that she’s been staring at him for the past few minutes. She takes a glance at the laptop and nods her head, “Yes.” A brief shake of her head and she looks back at him, “Senor Conti threatened to quit.”

“He did that every week when I was Head of Security.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He gets into these fits once a week.” He answers then shrugs, “I sort of wanted to recommend that he be let go. That man is a whiny prima donna and a pain in the ass.”

He starts to put on his shirt. Adelle looks at him curiously. She has heard of the chef’s outbursts, but she never saw it in his reports. “And why didn’t you?”

Laurence smirks, “His greatest creations are being eaten by people who can’t distinguish a crepe from a pancake. I kinda thought he was entitled to his fits once in a while… in his case, once a week.”

“I can sense that you liked him better than Topher.” She states.

“Well, yeah. Topher can’t make crème Brule.” Laurence replies, straight-faced.

She feels herself smiling, “You don’t find him an unstable element in the House?” He doesn’t fail to surprise her every day.

“Well if he was, he wouldn’t be head chef anymore.”

She sees him playing with the gold band on his ring finger. She feels a twinge in her chest and she turns away from him.

Adelle tries to focus on reading the report but she’s getting distracted with Laurence moving around behind her.

They’re going to part after this. When their plane lands on Los Angeles, they will go their separate ways and never to see each other again. She always knew that the end of this mission would be difficult and complicated. It would have been naïve of her to think otherwise.

“You don’t have to read Langton’s reports twice. Two injured Actives and an angry chef. Your House is fine.” He stands next to her.

She flashes him a questioning look. How could he have possibly known what was in the reports?

“I was your Head of Security for three years. Two’s the average number of Actives injured during the quiet weeks. And then there’s Senor Conti.” He explains simply.

An amused sound escapes her and she puts the lid of the laptop down. She shifts her position to face him, “Apparently, I’ve forgotten how efficient you were at your job.”

He doesn’t say anything in return and just looks at her. Oh god, she thinks. She doesn’t know what she’ll do when she gets back to the Dollhouse. She’s going to miss him, and unlike the time when she missed him before, it won’t be interspersed with ambivalence. She’s going to miss him and it will be accompanied by a throb in her chest that no amount of alcohol can numb.

How will she cope with it, knowing that there’s a version of him in the archives who despises her? How will she go back to the when she has the knowledge that some day, she might be tempted to pull out that version and stick it into an Active? It’s a crazy thought, but it’s plausible.

“I’ll send a bouquet of flowers to your office, every time I’ll think of you.” He suddenly says, breaking her thoughts.

His statement momentarily stuns her, “You don’t have to—” she starts to say, but he interrupts her.

“—and then I’ll sign it with another name so the other employees won’t start gossiping that Mr. Dominic is sending Ms. DeWitt flowers. And I promise I won’t put bombs or listening devices in them.”

This time, she laughs. Adelle reaches out, rests her hand on his cheek and lets herself lean closer to him. The expression on his face is earnest.

“I’m sure security will take care of the bombs and the bugs before giving the flowers to me,” she replies lightly, “And what name will you use for the card?”

His brows furrow as he pauses for a moment, “Ben. I’ll sign the card as Ben. It’s a simple name. Three letters, very easy to remember.”

She feels him wrapping his arms around her waist as she kisses him.

“I’m serious about the flowers.” He says when she pulls away. The sincerity on his face is throws her off slightly, “Of course, if you don’t want me to do it, then I won’t.”

She doesn’t know what to tell him. She likes the idea, but she’s also afraid that, if she allows it, there will come a time when the flowers will stop arriving.

So instead of answering him, she kisses him again, deeper this time. Maybe they should stop thinking about what happens after Ibiza and just enjoy the remaining time they have together.

It doesn’t take long for him to figure out what she wants.

~*~*~

They sat beside each other on the jet back to Los Angeles. They talked very little, but he didn’t mind it. They’ve always been at ease with the silence.

She had fallen asleep with her hand on top of his arm. And while she slept, he read a paperback novel he bought in the hotel’s gift shop.

This will be the last time they’ll be together again. The next time they see each other, it will most probably be in an official capacity—which he doesn’t want to happen. And then there’s the appeal of staging an “accidental” meeting, but he knows it’ll most likely upset her afterwards.

Laurence finishes reading the last chapter and he carefully puts the book on the table in front of him. He looks at Adelle. They barely slept a wink last night and he envies the way she can just sit on a plane seat and sleep.

She starts to move, making the dark blue blanket wrapped around her fall, but she doesn’t wake.

He picks up the blanket and covers her with it before leaning back on his seat.

He feels something for her. And it scares him because he’ll never be able to truly explore it. He has his duties; she has hers. Neither of them will willingly drop what they’re doing just for… their feelings.

Besides, it’s not as if they’ve been entirely truthful to each other. There are things he hadn’t told her—things that should have been true from the start. His name, for example.

Adelle stirs. She opens her eyes and after a few seconds, she massages the side of her head.

He keeps his gaze on her. She takes notice (or rather, she chooses to take notice).

“What is it?” her tone is quiet.

Laurence grins, “Nothing. I just thought we’d be making out all throughout the trip home.”

His remark elicits a roll of eyes from her. Laurence takes her hand and kisses her fingers before interlocking them with his.

She rests her head on his shoulder, “How long ‘til we arrive?”

He glances at his watch, “Two hours.”

Adelle sighs, “I have to change to my clothes before we land.”

“I’ll wake you up.”

“Thanks.”

And she falls asleep, once again.

He starts to think about their situation. If the circumstances of their meeting had been different, would they have different reactions to each other? If they met in a charity ball or one of those posh parties that Rossum organizes, would they have liked each other? If he followed his grandfather’s (and father’s) footsteps, and she didn’t get involved with Rossum, would their paths cross at all?

After a while, the co-pilot approaches them and informs him that they’ll be arriving in the city in forty-five minutes. Laurence thanks him before gently nudging Adelle awake.

She sits up and tries to shake her bleariness away.

“Time to change to your businesswoman clothes.” He forces humour in his tone, knowing that when she emerges from the bathroom, everything will be different.

She sadly smiles at him. She excuses herself and takes the bag from the overhead bin before going to the lavatory.

Laurence runs his fingers through his hair and lets out a loud sigh. He just needs to put on his necktie and his coat, and he’ll be set. It’s like their putting their costumes back on. With his coat and tie, he turns into the pedantic, frowning government agent. And when she puts on her high heels and her knee-length pencil skirts, she turns into the cold-yet-charming Executive.

Minutes later, after he had finished with his tie and have taken out his coat from its bag, he hears the click of her heels. She sits across him. Her hair is up and she put on a little make-up.

“When do you plan to get the tracking chips removed?” she inquires, finally breaking the silence.

She removed the chip on his shoulder – the one that monitors his position in relation to hers – which, he learned, would painfully render him unconscious if he gets out of her range. However, he still has to return to the Dollhouse so that the other tracking devices that they put on him (the same one they put on the Actives) can be removed.

“Within the week. Hopefully.” He answers.

She doesn’t say anything else and she turns her head away from him.

The pilot announces that the plane will be descending. They both fasten their seatbelts.

Laurence grips the arm of his seat when he feels the jet trembling from the descent. He always hated this part of a plane ride.

They landed safely. When the plane halts at the hangar, they immediately unfasten their seatbelts and fix their things.

They stand up from their seats almost at the same time. There’s an uncomfortable pause. Then Adelle turns towards him and smiles,

“It was a pleasure working with you again, Mr. Dominic.” She says. The smile on her face is strained—he’s seen it countless of times when speaking to clients whose requests she didn’t exactly agree with.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Ma’am.” He replies. She reaches out to straighten his tie. He grabs her hands and squeezes them reassuringly before letting them go. They try to avoid each other’s eyes as they stand in the aisle for a few minutes, not really knowing how to say their farewell.

He notices the pilot and the co-pilot starting to leave their cabin, but goes back in right away when they see him and Adelle still inside the plane.

Finally, she lifts her head and leans forward, “Goodbye, Laurence.” she whispers to his ear and plants a kiss on his cheek.

Adelle pulls back. She adjusts her posture and straightens up, while the expression on her face turns impassive and aloof. She takes a deep breath and takes her bag from the chair.

“Goodbye, Mr. Dominic.” She says, in a formal tone that sounds awkward to his ears.

He matches the look on her face and gives a polite nod, “Goodbye, Ms. DeWitt.”

She turns around and walks away.

And, doing what he had done for the past three years as the Head of Security of the Los Angeles Dollhouse, Laurence Dominic trails behind Adelle DeWitt for the last time.