Ship: Adelle DeWitt/Laurence Dominic
Word Count: 752.
Summary: Adelle and Mr. Dominic discuss the end of the world. A continuation of the 'unboxed' scene from Epitaph One.
Disclaimer Don't own it. :(
Note: This is written from stop_theworld (who I love and admire very much) for whedonland's fic giving. I hope you like it ♥ Title shamelessly stolen from An Honest Mistake by The Bravery which I discovered in my lovely Adelle/Dominic fanmix made for me @ gift giving. Isn't sharing fun! You can find it here I'm not sure if it's locked or not. Just give it a try! Mistakes are all my own, please point them out :D (nicely, I am prone to tears. LOL)
“Which one is Caroline?”
“Don’t be smart Mr. Dominic. You know which one she is.” Adelle replied, words laden with defeat.
“Is she the one I warned you about?” Adelle moved to the sofa, taking the bottle of vodka with her, if she was going to receive a lecture she may as well indulge. “Your little Echo? The one I constantly,” Angry emphasis on harsh syllables, “warned you about, the one you should have boxed and sent to the attic, the one who did nothing but cause trouble? Am I thinking of the right one Ms. DeWitt?”
“Yes, indeed, it seems as if I have made many mistakes in my life. All of which I am quite aware of, no need to make me a list, Mr. Dominic and remind me of how right you were. Congratulations on your prize.” She motioned a little wildly around her.
He moved to stand in front of her, looming over her seated form. He made her feel small and ridiculous, not to mention the memory of him thrusting a gun in her face was fresh on her mind and neck, he looked down at her with eyes that brimmed with contempt and disdain. A look that was the most painful when it came from him but one that she had become accustomed to receiving.
She was Pandora. She had let the evil into the world, brought it down on its knees, and Mr. Dominic, he was her hope, all that she had left. Finally freed from the box she had kept him in.
There was a moment of silence between them. “Mistakes.” He repeated. “Mistakes, Ms. DeWitt, mistakes? Care to share some of your other mistakes?”
“You know very well to what I refer.” She cast her eyes downwards, they both knew where this conversation was heading, and it would always circle back to this. It was, after all, the very definition of their relationship now.
“Do I? Or am I it? One of your mistakes.”
She didn’t think she could bear to hear that word again. So she stood up, doing her best to challenge his physical domination, filled with indignant rage. “What do you want from me Mr. Dominic? My tears of sorrow at what I did to you, poor Mr. Dominic, what an innocent victim in all the carnage. You were a spy,” She spat out the word, the feelings of revulsion brought back by the sight of him before her, but the feelings of loss too, the pain he had caused her. She had never dealt well with unfaithfulness. “You betrayed me, I betrayed you.”
He stepped closer, invading her space, bodies almost touching and hot breath on skin. “That’s pretty biblical Ms. DeWitt.” He stared at her eyes, looking for something, she didn’t know what, and she just stared right back. “Do you know what else is pretty biblical Ms. Dewitt,” Her name sounded insulting on his tongue, spoken again and again. “Judgment day, the end of the world, and all that. Do you even feel remorse,” He tried to provoke her. “Feel any guilt over the part you played in destroying just about everything? Or is this what we need, Adelle?”
“Of course,” She started, feeling herself crumble she paused. “I… Please, Laurence, I feel it all. And soon it will consume me.” The words were barely more than a whisper. She meant nothing to this man now, she was not his boss, his employer and she was most certainly not his friend, the least she could be was honest.
Almost as soon as the words had left her mouth his hand snaked up into her already disheveled hair and pulled her flush against him. She opened her mouth to say something, she doubted it would be a protestation, but he didn’t give her the opportunity instead he collided his lips with hers. He violently kissed her and raked his fingers across her scalp. She kissed back with equal passion, her hand gripping the base of his neck, nails scratching at the tender skin. As quickly as he had instigated he pulled away, she reeled slightly at the loss of contact and tried quickly to regain composure.
He looked at her, bruised lips and wide eyes, and rubbed his hand over his face. “I need to hate you.” He said as he turned away from her leaving her office empty and cold.
All she could do was nod as the soft burn of his kiss died on her lips.
Not even hope could save her.
Feedback and comments are appreciated.