DISCLAIMER: Women's Murder Club and its characters are the property of James Patterson, 20th Century Fox Television and ABC. Dollhouse belongs to Joss Whedon and Fox. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Libra wakes up and like every day, she stretches and smiles as she sits up and climbs out of her pod to join the others in the line as they all head for the shower. Everyone is happy, always. When she steps under the shower spray naked, she recognizes the feeling that is like a small cloud hiding the sun on a summer day. It's being uncomfortable. Libra wouldn't call it that way, because there can't be any negativity in her world.
There are massages, yoga, swimming and treatments. She's living in a paradise.
She takes her tray with all the good, tasteful food she's getting for breakfast every day and carries it to the table where Echo, Sierra and Victor sit. They smile at her as they greet her. They are her friends.
"Good day," she says.
For them, they are all good days. Aren't they lucky?
Cindy can't believe what she is seeing. The woman, 'active' who has just stepped out of the elevator with her 'handler' she still can't get over this terminology is her exact twin. And the man with her is FBI agent John Ashe.
"Who is she?" she asks her inside contact who is supposed to open up the highest level of the Dollhouse to her. Cindy feels a cold sliver of fear skittering down her spine. So far, everything has been working alright with her new story; she's gone to places law enforcement personnel would have never find access to. This mind control business she is about to uncover will really be the biggest story of her life, ever.
"Let's just get inside and get you your treatment," he says softly.
Cindy reaches up to touch her hair, looking at the brown strands, then down at herself, and back at the woman on the other side of the parking lot. "No!"
It's enough that Lindsay has been acting so strange lately. She isn't going to lose her mind. Cindy tears herself away from the man who's been posing as her handler and runs over to Ashe and the redhead.
The color drains from her face when she realizes that this isn't just a look-alike. She is her. Cindy feels light-headed, the ground swaying under her feet.
"Cindy Thomas." Ashe smiles at her. "Meet Celeste Gautier."
"No," she pleads, frantically reaching up to touch her face that isn't hers at all.
The woman in her own body, Celeste, looks at her with mild interest.
"Give me a mirror. Please."
"Echo. Come on now."
She spins around at the calmly spoken words, frantically searching her mind as to why this man seems familiar, and more trustworthy than any other person around here at the moment, including herself. "Help me," Cindy pleads.
"Echo, would you like to have a treatment now?"
She lets him lead her away, unable to look at the body that is hers another time.
Return to Women's Murder Club Fiction
Return to Dollhouse Fiction
Return to Main Page