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sunday_reveries: Chekov quote
Sep. 26th, 2009 04:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notaballad"Try to reason about love, and you will lose your reason."
Anton Chekhov
Anton Chekhov
Des let out a contented sigh as he kissed along Michael's shoulder blades. Michael was lying on his stomach, head turned away from Des as he caught a quick, post-coital nap. It was a rare afternoon where both of them had been free, and they'd decided to take full advantage by falling into Michael's bed.
"This is very, very nice," Des mumbled against the curve of Michael's shoulder. "I love you, Michael."
"Love you too, Des," Michael muttered sleepily, shifting a little as the alarm clock on the nightstand began to beep.
Des frowned, watching his boyfriend reach out and shut off the alarm. "What's that for?" he asked curiously as Michael stretched and slid out of bed.
"It's time for my Treatment," Michael said simply as he reached for his boxers.
Des blinked a little and then sat up as his boyfriend began to dress. "Oh?" he said. "Do you want me to take you?" He wasn't expecting Michael to say yes, but he thought that he'd at least give it a shot.
Michael smiled softly and shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary," he said. "Adam's coming to get me, and he should be here at any moment." He moved over to give Des a kiss, brushing his fingers over his boyfriend's cheek. "I'll call you tomorrow. We'll have dinner, anything you want."
Des smiled softly and nodded. "Alright, that sounds good to me." He gave Michael a kiss in return and then sighed as his boyfriend left the room. He waited a few minutes and then got up, getting dressed. He heard the front door open and the sounds of two male voices -- Michael's and a British-accented voice that Des knew belonged to the mysterious Adam -- conversing. The door closed a moment later, and Des pulled on his sneakers, tying the laces. He then straightened up and grabbed his keys, wallet and cell phone, tucking the last two items into his pockets. Heading out of the apartment, he managed to get downstairs just in time to see Adam's black van turn the corner.
Des leapt into his car, cranking up the engine and roaring off. Utilizing the tailing skills he'd been taught by his ex-military mentor, he managed to follow Adam's van to a parking garage without being seen. He parked across the street and made his way to the garage on foot, arriving just in time to see Michael step into an elevator.
Quickly ducking down beside a parked SUV, Des managed to avoid being seen by Adam as the man turned away. After the Englishman drove off, Des stood up and moved over to the elevator. He pressed the button, not really thinking about the possibility of somebody being in there. Once he realized that he could be caught, he quickly ducked out of sight when the doors opened. When he saw that the coast was clear, he moved into the elevator, looking around cautiously. There was only one button, and he pressed it, heart pounding against his chest because he didn't know what he was going to find.
He blinked in surprise when the elevator doors opened into what appeared to be some kind of spa. He thought that was pretty weird, considering that the elevator had gone down instead of up, meaning that he was now underground. He kept his head down, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible while keeping an eye out for his boyfriend. He was nervous and a little bit apprehensive because he had a feeling that he knew exactly where he was; after months of fruitless searching, he'd found the Dollhouse. He felt a tingle of excitement as he realized that it wasn't Michael he was looking for, it was Peter. If he played his cards right, he could meet the real Peter, he could get his boyfriend's memories back.
He was a little scared -- what if Peter got his memories back and didn't like him, didn't feel that spark of chemistry? Would Des be losing one of the most important people in his life? He shook his head. He couldn't think about that; he had to find his boyfriend first. Everything else would fall into place, he was confident.
He made his way down a hallway and quickly ducked into a side room as a couple of people, dressed in tank tops and sweat pants walked past. He remained in the room until he was certain that no one was around, and he moved back into the hallway. He continued to explore, getting even more confused about the Dollhouse. It looked just like any other day spa, but he knew that there was something else going on.
He stepped into a room with five white frosted glass panels in the floor. He frowned deeply, looking confused, and then gasped a little, remembering something that Michael had said about feeling like he was trapped in a pod by glass. He glanced around, his gaze falling onto one glass panel in particular. He hesitated a moment and then moved over to it. He knelt beside it and then started feeling around, looking around for a switch or something to open the glass. He didn't find anything, and he stood up, examining the wall. He found a panel of five buttons and then hesitated a moment before pushing one. He blinked in surprise as he heard a quiet whisper behind him, and he turned to see the glass panel he'd been examining sliding open.
He gasped in surprise when he saw a slumbering Peter, dressed simply in a gray t-shirt and a pair of dark blue sweat pants. Feeling a little bit like Prince Philip from Sleeping Beauty, Des leaned down into the pod and kissed Peter awake. He looked relieved when Peter willingly came with him, rising out of the sunken bed and exiting the room with him. He really had no idea what he was going to do, he just knew that he had to get Peter out of there. First, he had to get Peter's memories back.
When Peter led Des off to where he got his Treatments, Des gasped, his eyes widening. He'd never seen such a setup, not even in a science fiction movie. "What is all of this?" he wondered.
"Pretty impressive, huh?"
Des gasped in surprise and whirled at the sound of the unfamiliar masculine voice. He was inwardly kicking himself for letting someone sneak up on him. What a rookie mistake, he silently grumbled.
"Might be more impressive if I knew what I was looking at," he said warily as he sized up the sandy blonde guy standing in the doorway. "Who are you?"
The guy, who was dressed casually in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a open button-down striped shirt, gave Des a smug grin. "Me? I'm the guy who rules this kingdom, the guy who makes all of this work." He motioned toward the weird-looking chair next to which Peter stood. "Topher Brink."
Des gave him a critical onceover and glanced at Peter, giving him an encouraging smile. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach. He knew that Peter loved and trusted him, and he had to do everything he could to help Peter. "So you can make this work then?" he said to Topher, nodding toward the chair. "Peter said that this is where he gets his Treatments. Now, I don't know what that means and I doubt I want to, but can you give Peter his memories back?"
Topher laughed and shrugged a little. "I could but, uh, his contract isn't up."
Des frowned, even more confused. "Contract? What are you talking about?" He glanced toward Peter, who smiled softly at him, and he smiled back before looking back at Topher. "What the hell is going on around here? What are these 'treatments?' Why does he think he's Michael? What are you doing to him?"
"Whoa, dude, cool it with the twenty questions," Topher said as he raised his hands, palms outward toward Des in a surrendering gesture. "I'm not authorized to give you any of that information." He frowned slightly. "Come to think about it, you're not even supposed to be down here. How'd you get past security?" He moved toward a phone hanging on the wall, but stopped short when Des moved into his path.
"Look, Topher, you seem like a really nice guy, but I don't have a lot of time here," Des snapped. "Are you going to help Peter or do things have to get ugly?"
Topher brought his hands up in that surrendering gesture again. "I'm sorry, dude, but I-" He cut off, eyes widening, as Des ran his hands over the top of a computer monitor. "Whoa, what are you doing?"
"This is pretty sweet," Des said as he looked over the computer equipment. He didn't really understand what was being displayed -- a scan of a person's brain or something -- but he knew that it was being displayed by a pretty sophisticated piece of machinery. "You know, I'd hate for something to happen to this."
"I think we all know you're bluffing, Mr. Molloy," a feminine British-accented voice said from behind him. "You're too much of a computer geek yourself to damage such an impressive piece of equipment."
Des tensed and turned to see an elegantly dressed brunette straign at him with an icy glare. "Great, and who might you be?" he asked in a grumbly tone.
"Adelle DeWitt," she responded. "I am Head of Operations of the Los Angeles Dollhouse."
If Des possessed a "spidey sense," it would've been ringing loud alarm bells in his head. Why was she confirming the existence of a secret organization like the Dollhouse to him? He suddenly had a very clear, very disturbing mental image of his maimed and unrecognizable body washing up on the beach tomorrow.
"Huh," he said, eyeing her cautiously while trying to remain casual. "I'd introduce myself but I've got a feeling that you already know me."
Adelle nodded, folding her arms over her chest. "Oh, we know a great deal about you, Desmond. You've been a thorn in our side for months. Because of you, Peter keeps glitching."
Des frowned deeply at that, feeling confused. "Glitching? He's not a fucking computer! This isn't the Matrix, although I guess, metaphorically, you could liken the elevator shift to the rabbit hole, but I don't feel like Neo and you sure as hell don't look like-"
"Mr. Molloy!" Adelle cut into his geeky ramblings with a cold, sharp tone. "We have tried several methods of making Peter forget you and all of them have failed. This is a very serious problem."
Des raised his head, glaring at her with defiance written all over his face. "You can't stop true love, Mrs. DeWitt."
Adelle grimaced, looking a lot like she'd just smelled or tasted something vile. "Apparently so," she said coldly. "No doubt you've come here to whisk him away to safety, but I'm afraid I can't let that happen. Peter entered into an agreement with this organization of his own free will. In just under four years, Mr. Molloy, you may have him back."
Des frowned deeply and glanced at Peter, who was standing beside the chair, a curious look on his face as he watched them. When his eyes caught the gaze of Des, a smile broke out across his face. Des couldn't help but smile back and he shot a glare at Adelle. "So, what, I'm supposed to just stop seeing him? I don't think so."
Adelle let out an annoyed sigh. "He cannot complete his duties if he is attached to you, Mr. Molloy. It inteferes with the programming, and if he cannot complete his duties, he does not fulfill his contract."
"You can't just dictate my life or Peter's! If he weren't brainwashed, Peter would feel the same way!" Des snapped. "I'm not leaving here without him and his memories intact."
Adelle narrowed her eyes, her mouth set in a hard, thin line. "Then you will not be leaving at all, Mr. Molloy," she said in a cold voice. She nodded at a couple of men who came in behind Des. "Take him to the Attic."
"This is very, very nice," Des mumbled against the curve of Michael's shoulder. "I love you, Michael."
"Love you too, Des," Michael muttered sleepily, shifting a little as the alarm clock on the nightstand began to beep.
Des frowned, watching his boyfriend reach out and shut off the alarm. "What's that for?" he asked curiously as Michael stretched and slid out of bed.
"It's time for my Treatment," Michael said simply as he reached for his boxers.
Des blinked a little and then sat up as his boyfriend began to dress. "Oh?" he said. "Do you want me to take you?" He wasn't expecting Michael to say yes, but he thought that he'd at least give it a shot.
Michael smiled softly and shook his head. "No, that won't be necessary," he said. "Adam's coming to get me, and he should be here at any moment." He moved over to give Des a kiss, brushing his fingers over his boyfriend's cheek. "I'll call you tomorrow. We'll have dinner, anything you want."
Des smiled softly and nodded. "Alright, that sounds good to me." He gave Michael a kiss in return and then sighed as his boyfriend left the room. He waited a few minutes and then got up, getting dressed. He heard the front door open and the sounds of two male voices -- Michael's and a British-accented voice that Des knew belonged to the mysterious Adam -- conversing. The door closed a moment later, and Des pulled on his sneakers, tying the laces. He then straightened up and grabbed his keys, wallet and cell phone, tucking the last two items into his pockets. Heading out of the apartment, he managed to get downstairs just in time to see Adam's black van turn the corner.
Des leapt into his car, cranking up the engine and roaring off. Utilizing the tailing skills he'd been taught by his ex-military mentor, he managed to follow Adam's van to a parking garage without being seen. He parked across the street and made his way to the garage on foot, arriving just in time to see Michael step into an elevator.
Quickly ducking down beside a parked SUV, Des managed to avoid being seen by Adam as the man turned away. After the Englishman drove off, Des stood up and moved over to the elevator. He pressed the button, not really thinking about the possibility of somebody being in there. Once he realized that he could be caught, he quickly ducked out of sight when the doors opened. When he saw that the coast was clear, he moved into the elevator, looking around cautiously. There was only one button, and he pressed it, heart pounding against his chest because he didn't know what he was going to find.
He blinked in surprise when the elevator doors opened into what appeared to be some kind of spa. He thought that was pretty weird, considering that the elevator had gone down instead of up, meaning that he was now underground. He kept his head down, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible while keeping an eye out for his boyfriend. He was nervous and a little bit apprehensive because he had a feeling that he knew exactly where he was; after months of fruitless searching, he'd found the Dollhouse. He felt a tingle of excitement as he realized that it wasn't Michael he was looking for, it was Peter. If he played his cards right, he could meet the real Peter, he could get his boyfriend's memories back.
He was a little scared -- what if Peter got his memories back and didn't like him, didn't feel that spark of chemistry? Would Des be losing one of the most important people in his life? He shook his head. He couldn't think about that; he had to find his boyfriend first. Everything else would fall into place, he was confident.
He made his way down a hallway and quickly ducked into a side room as a couple of people, dressed in tank tops and sweat pants walked past. He remained in the room until he was certain that no one was around, and he moved back into the hallway. He continued to explore, getting even more confused about the Dollhouse. It looked just like any other day spa, but he knew that there was something else going on.
He stepped into a room with five white frosted glass panels in the floor. He frowned deeply, looking confused, and then gasped a little, remembering something that Michael had said about feeling like he was trapped in a pod by glass. He glanced around, his gaze falling onto one glass panel in particular. He hesitated a moment and then moved over to it. He knelt beside it and then started feeling around, looking around for a switch or something to open the glass. He didn't find anything, and he stood up, examining the wall. He found a panel of five buttons and then hesitated a moment before pushing one. He blinked in surprise as he heard a quiet whisper behind him, and he turned to see the glass panel he'd been examining sliding open.
He gasped in surprise when he saw a slumbering Peter, dressed simply in a gray t-shirt and a pair of dark blue sweat pants. Feeling a little bit like Prince Philip from Sleeping Beauty, Des leaned down into the pod and kissed Peter awake. He looked relieved when Peter willingly came with him, rising out of the sunken bed and exiting the room with him. He really had no idea what he was going to do, he just knew that he had to get Peter out of there. First, he had to get Peter's memories back.
When Peter led Des off to where he got his Treatments, Des gasped, his eyes widening. He'd never seen such a setup, not even in a science fiction movie. "What is all of this?" he wondered.
"Pretty impressive, huh?"
Des gasped in surprise and whirled at the sound of the unfamiliar masculine voice. He was inwardly kicking himself for letting someone sneak up on him. What a rookie mistake, he silently grumbled.
"Might be more impressive if I knew what I was looking at," he said warily as he sized up the sandy blonde guy standing in the doorway. "Who are you?"
The guy, who was dressed casually in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a open button-down striped shirt, gave Des a smug grin. "Me? I'm the guy who rules this kingdom, the guy who makes all of this work." He motioned toward the weird-looking chair next to which Peter stood. "Topher Brink."
Des gave him a critical onceover and glanced at Peter, giving him an encouraging smile. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach. He knew that Peter loved and trusted him, and he had to do everything he could to help Peter. "So you can make this work then?" he said to Topher, nodding toward the chair. "Peter said that this is where he gets his Treatments. Now, I don't know what that means and I doubt I want to, but can you give Peter his memories back?"
Topher laughed and shrugged a little. "I could but, uh, his contract isn't up."
Des frowned, even more confused. "Contract? What are you talking about?" He glanced toward Peter, who smiled softly at him, and he smiled back before looking back at Topher. "What the hell is going on around here? What are these 'treatments?' Why does he think he's Michael? What are you doing to him?"
"Whoa, dude, cool it with the twenty questions," Topher said as he raised his hands, palms outward toward Des in a surrendering gesture. "I'm not authorized to give you any of that information." He frowned slightly. "Come to think about it, you're not even supposed to be down here. How'd you get past security?" He moved toward a phone hanging on the wall, but stopped short when Des moved into his path.
"Look, Topher, you seem like a really nice guy, but I don't have a lot of time here," Des snapped. "Are you going to help Peter or do things have to get ugly?"
Topher brought his hands up in that surrendering gesture again. "I'm sorry, dude, but I-" He cut off, eyes widening, as Des ran his hands over the top of a computer monitor. "Whoa, what are you doing?"
"This is pretty sweet," Des said as he looked over the computer equipment. He didn't really understand what was being displayed -- a scan of a person's brain or something -- but he knew that it was being displayed by a pretty sophisticated piece of machinery. "You know, I'd hate for something to happen to this."
"I think we all know you're bluffing, Mr. Molloy," a feminine British-accented voice said from behind him. "You're too much of a computer geek yourself to damage such an impressive piece of equipment."
Des tensed and turned to see an elegantly dressed brunette straign at him with an icy glare. "Great, and who might you be?" he asked in a grumbly tone.
"Adelle DeWitt," she responded. "I am Head of Operations of the Los Angeles Dollhouse."
If Des possessed a "spidey sense," it would've been ringing loud alarm bells in his head. Why was she confirming the existence of a secret organization like the Dollhouse to him? He suddenly had a very clear, very disturbing mental image of his maimed and unrecognizable body washing up on the beach tomorrow.
"Huh," he said, eyeing her cautiously while trying to remain casual. "I'd introduce myself but I've got a feeling that you already know me."
Adelle nodded, folding her arms over her chest. "Oh, we know a great deal about you, Desmond. You've been a thorn in our side for months. Because of you, Peter keeps glitching."
Des frowned deeply at that, feeling confused. "Glitching? He's not a fucking computer! This isn't the Matrix, although I guess, metaphorically, you could liken the elevator shift to the rabbit hole, but I don't feel like Neo and you sure as hell don't look like-"
"Mr. Molloy!" Adelle cut into his geeky ramblings with a cold, sharp tone. "We have tried several methods of making Peter forget you and all of them have failed. This is a very serious problem."
Des raised his head, glaring at her with defiance written all over his face. "You can't stop true love, Mrs. DeWitt."
Adelle grimaced, looking a lot like she'd just smelled or tasted something vile. "Apparently so," she said coldly. "No doubt you've come here to whisk him away to safety, but I'm afraid I can't let that happen. Peter entered into an agreement with this organization of his own free will. In just under four years, Mr. Molloy, you may have him back."
Des frowned deeply and glanced at Peter, who was standing beside the chair, a curious look on his face as he watched them. When his eyes caught the gaze of Des, a smile broke out across his face. Des couldn't help but smile back and he shot a glare at Adelle. "So, what, I'm supposed to just stop seeing him? I don't think so."
Adelle let out an annoyed sigh. "He cannot complete his duties if he is attached to you, Mr. Molloy. It inteferes with the programming, and if he cannot complete his duties, he does not fulfill his contract."
"You can't just dictate my life or Peter's! If he weren't brainwashed, Peter would feel the same way!" Des snapped. "I'm not leaving here without him and his memories intact."
Adelle narrowed her eyes, her mouth set in a hard, thin line. "Then you will not be leaving at all, Mr. Molloy," she said in a cold voice. She nodded at a couple of men who came in behind Des. "Take him to the Attic."
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Date: 2009-09-27 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-27 04:52 pm (UTC)