Title: Everything's Not Lost
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Laurence Dominic, Adelle DeWitt
Words: 1, 173
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be.
Summary: He makes it sound so… normal. It’s as if the person (can they still be considered a person, at this point?) he’s looking for isn’t a fully grown (and rather ridiculously good-looking) woman who acts like a five-year-old minus the tantrums and curiosity, and programmed to trust him with her life.

Notes: Sort of a sequel to Alternate Universe #1. I was supposed to post this to celebrate the first year anniversary of the season one finale, but I sucked, so I'm posting this to celebrate the impending death of Reed's character on the series finale of 24.

Does anyone still read Dollhouse fanfic? Lol. I MISS DOLLHOUSE. But I heard that there's some great news for fans coming out in July. Heh.

All mistakes are mine. I hope you enjoy.



The Dollhouse is just like the world it’s hiding from – depraved, absurd and violent, with a few of its inhabitants thinking that everything is good and made out of unicorns and rainbows.

He’s been working here for more than four months and he knows that despite the mindless robots, or the boy in charge of pulling the puppets’ strings, the thing which keeps this place moving is money. Which is exactly the same thing that keeps the world turning.

Laurence Dominic loosens his tie slightly, just realizing how tightly he had it knotted around his neck, as he makes his way to the ground level of this sprawling facility to look for his Active.

His Active. He lets out a little scoff. He makes it sound so… normal. It’s as if the person (can they still be considered a person, at this point?) he’s looking for isn’t a fully grown (and rather ridiculously good-looking) woman who acts like a five-year-old minus the tantrums and curiosity, and programmed to trust him with her life.

A woman he’s supposed to protect with his life.

The floor is very busy, with most of the Handlers and caretakers ushering the Actives towards the imprinting lab. There’s been a break-in at the Rossum Laboratory in Fremont College and everybody there – student, teachers, staff – are getting drugged with whatever drug that was stolen from the labs.

And Topher, the most obnoxious jerk to have been bequeathed to mankind, is certain that the Actives are immune to the drug because it affects a person’s memory—something that’s been effectively blocked by his science. So now, they need all the cleared Actives to go to Fremont to contain the spread of the drug.

He cranes his neck and glances around, looking for a tall and pale, dark-haired woman. She normally sits on the couch, looking at picture books during her down time.

Foxtrot is being guided to the line by one of the staff members. Even Victor and Sierra, two of the Actives whom Juliet “groups” with (or herds with, if he goes by Topher’s term) are with their Handlers.

“You’ve seen Juliet?” he asks Ramirez.

Ramirez shakes her head, “No. There are still a few of them in the showers, though.” She offers before turning her attention back to Victor.

He makes his way towards the shower area (the aspect of prostitution didn’t faze him – after all, people will whore themselves for a price – but the coed showers threw him slightly off-balance) and finds it empty, save for a few injured dolls.

He heaves out a sigh of relief. He feels uncomfortable going in the showers, and even more so when Juliet is actually there.

He checks the swimming pool, but she isn’t there. There isn’t anyone in the wall-climbing area and she’s not with the other Actives in the gym.

She isn’t anywhere.

A glance at his watch tells him that he has a lot of time left before Topher starts looking for them.

He decides to check the facilities again, just in case he had missed her the first time, and he’s starting to wonder where she might have wandered off. Dolls in their tabula rasa state aren’t exactly… spontaneous (too dumb to live also comes to mind).

On his way back from the swimming pool, he notices a pair of feet sticking out from a corner, the corner that leads to the sleeping chambers. He almost doesn’t pay notice of it, until he realizes that it’s a pair of feet sticking out from a corner.

He walks towards it and finds Juliet tucked quietly in that little nook and looking at a picture book.

“Juliet?” he calls out, unsure on what state she might be in. He remembers the Alpha incident (Boyd and Topher gave him quite a clear picture) and even though he knows that Juliet hasn’t shown any signs of any glitches, it’s not entirely assuring that any Active can turn into an Alpha.

The Active lifts her head upon hearing her name, “Hello.” She greets, almost in awe and stares at him wide-eyed, “You found me.”

His brows furrow and he looks at her, his confusion palpable,”I found you?” he asks slowly, kneeling down so that they could be at eye-level, “And who are you hiding from?”

“I’m hiding from everyone, silly.” She answers, “No one finds me here.” She says in child-like wonderment, which contrasts with her deep voice (that he finds too damn attractive).

She smiles at him and a tingle suddenly goes through him that he can’t shake off easily.

The first few weeks on the job, he thought he can look at it and what it entails with detachment and cold logic, but somehow, she made it all muddled and confusing. And he doesn’t understand it. She, who wouldn’t be able to fend for herself if left out in the world in her current state; who becomes a different person day in and day out; who volunteered to be a mindless robot slave for five years in exchange for excessively huge amount of money. The thought of her (her green eyes, those long lashes, that smile) keeps him awake at night and it disturbs him so much. And yet, he can’t seem to pull away.

“Why are you sad?” she asks, glumly, reflecting what she thinks his mood is.

He blinks and he pushes his overly-serious thoughts away, “I’m not sad.”

“You’re frowning.” She points out, “Everybody frowns they’re sad.” She says in a matter-of-fact tone.

He can never really get used to the way she just says these simple things confidently like they’re the only truths in the world.

“I was just—”

Without warning (none at all), she suddenly reaches and touches his chest. His breath catches in his throat and his heart starts to beat a little faster. The warmth of her hand seeps through his clothes and he can smell the scent of strawberries in her hair. While he struggles with the thought that this is wrong and weird and seriously fucked-up he also can’t help but think that she smells so damn good.

“This is crooked.” She remarks and he feels her fixing his tie, straightening it.

He stays motionless, gaping at her. Are Actives taught the art of necktie tying or is this just her?

“There. It’s not crooked anymore.”

Juliet looks up and something flashes in her eyes – he’s not entirely sure what it was, or if he really did see it because it went by so quick – before her lips curve into a big smile.

It takes him a moment to realize he’s been holding his breath.

“It’s time for your treatment, Juliet.” He says, finally, deciding to cut off the conversation.

“I enjoy my treatments.” She replies, automatically, “They help me be my best.”

He nods his head, absent-mindedly, “Yes, they do.” he says and stands up. She follows suit and he takes her picture book.

He lets her walk ahead of him, preferring to follow just a step behind her.