Chapter Text
By the time Sunday evening rolls around, Dom officially runs out of things to do. Her apartment is clean, her closet is organized, and her fridge is full. She still has a little less than three months left of her administrative leave, and the FBI is still slugging through their investigation on her involvement with the Dark Army, so she has to find something to keep her occupied. Maybe she’ll finally start looking into exercise routines tomorrow, or maybe she’ll fulfill a childhood dream and ride an entire subway line from start to finish - because she actually has the time to do something like that now.
It’s pretty late, but she figures she should probably make something for dinner since she hasn’t eaten yet, so she lifts herself off her bed and makes her way towards the kitchen, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. She can’t conceal the grin that splits her mouth open; she already knows who it is, but out of habit she peers through the peephole anyway, and when she spots that familiar mess of brown hair and those idiotic heart-shaped sunglasses her grin somehow gets even wider.
Dom takes a second to compose herself, forcing the dopey smile off her face, and finally opens the door. “Hi.” Their shoulders brush as Darlene briskly walks past her, and when she turns to face her she notices she’s holding a plastic bag. “What’s that?”
“A gift.” Darlene smirks as she holds it out to her. “Pour vous.”
“Why?” Dom quirks an eyebrow as she reluctantly takes the bag. “Please tell me it’s something legal. You didn’t steal this, or-”
“It was legally obtained.” Darlene holds up three fingers. “Scout’s honour - and I have the receipt to prove it.”
Dom rolls her eyes before peering into the bag, but when she discovers what’s inside they nearly bulge out of their sockets. “I can’t believe it.” She gapes as she pulls out a brand new Echo; it’s a lot smaller and lighter than her last one, which kind of makes it look less conspicuous, but she’s not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
“I smashed the other one, so I figured it was my responsibility to replace it.” Darlene takes off her glasses, dumps her bag on the floor, tosses her jacket on one of the chairs by the small table, and sits on the edge of her bed, smoothing out her cargo pants with her hands. “Trust me, it wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’ve been beating myself up over it the entire way here.”
“You said that I needed to stop relying on this thing.” Dom pulls the speaker out of its box and places it on her desk. The fact that Darlene actually contributed to capitalism just for her is what’s causing the butterflies in her stomach right now.
“You do.” Darlene shrugs. “But you obviously already know that. You’ve done loads for yourself these past few months; I think you’re at a stage in your mental health where you can tell the difference between a preprogrammed talking speaker and an actual human being who wants to be a part of your life.”
The dopey grin from earlier makes a comeback. “Are you the actual human being who wants to be a part of my life?”
Darlene immediately turns away from her so that she can’t see her face, and it only makes her smile wider. “Obviously. Jesus, Dom - do I have to spell it out for you?”
That’s the closest she’ll ever get to a compliment from Darlene Alderson, so she takes it. “Thanks, I guess.” It doesn’t take long to set it up; Alexa’s back minutes later, blinking at them with her signature blue hue. “Alexa, play The Cranberries.”
“Shuffling songs by The Cranberries.” Seconds later, Dolores O’Riordan is crooning the lyrics to Linger. Darlene rolls her eyes, and Dom returns it with a triumphant grin before heading into the kitchen.
“Congratulations - you just gave the FBI another channel to tune into.” Darlene’s contemptuously staring at the small speaker, almost like she’s expecting it to grow limbs and attack her.
“Uh, in case you’ve forgotten,” Dom’s head is in the fridge, trying to figure out what to cook. “I’m the FBI. Also, you bought it for me, so if they’re spying on us right now it’s your fault.” She rifles through a salad kit, a brand new six pack of Tecate, and a package of raw chicken breasts. “Want anything for dinner?”
“Got any more of that grilled cheese?” When she pulls herself out of the fridge, Darlene’s leaning against the entrance to the kitchen with her arms crossed. The crooked smile hovering over her lips causes a stirring in Dom’s chest; she nervously clears her throat and sticks her head back into the fridge, partially to grab ingredients and partially to cool herself off.
“Coming right up.”
She makes the mistake of putting Darlene in charge of flipping the sandwiches. Sometime later, they’re sitting at her small dining table laughing over blackened toast. At least the cheese isn’t burned.
“So,” Dom reaches for her bottle of Tecate and washes down the remnants of her charred meal. “Did you sort everything out with your brother?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Darlene picks at her crust. “It went a lot better than I thought it was going to. I mean, I still had a panic attack, but I powered through.”
“That’s good - not the panic attack. I mean everything else.”
“Yeah.” Darlene shrugs. “I told him everything. I was expecting him to get really pissed off because that’s what you’re supposed to do when you find out your sister’s been sniffing around your personal business. Also, that’s just how he used to react, even though I had good reasons sometimes.”
“Like being a Confidential Human Source for the FBI?” Dom offers, and the both of them shyly chuckle into their drinks. “So where do you go from here?”
“Back to therapy, I guess.” Darlene doesn’t look or sound very enthusiastic about it. “I have to suck it up and actually care about it, or at least try to. It’s probably the only way I’ll be able to get rid of these stupid nightmares. Then...I dunno. We’ll see where we go from there.”
“There’ll always be a place for you at Cyber Command.” She reminds her.
Just as she expected, Darlene rolls her eyes. “Hard pass.”
Well, it was worth a second try. “If you’re so opposed to working for the feds, you can always find work someplace else. There’s a bunch of cyber security firms out there that could really use your expertise.”
“Ah, yes.” Darlene knits her eyebrows together, pretending to think really hard. “The age old debate: Do I want to be a pig or an office drone?”
It’s Dom’s turn to roll her eyes. “How much longer are you gonna keep this up? You’re going to have to grow up eventually - actually, you’re already starting to, with the commitment to taking therapy seriously and getting to the bottom of those nightmares you’ve been having. So you might as well go all out and get a job.”
Darlene heaves a sigh but doesn’t say anything else. The tip of her index finger is running along the rim of her Tecate. After a few more seconds of silence, she finally decides to speak up. “You never told me about Budapest.”
This is her way of letting Dom know that she doesn’t want to talk about the job thing anymore, and she’s fine with that. It didn’t look like that conversation was going anywhere anyway. “It was nice, but I was only there for about a week and a half. I went to Vienna afterward, and then Prague.” She runs a hand through her hair. “Next was Berlin, then I went up to Copenhagen for a little bit before heading to Amsterdam and Brussels. I stayed in Paris for about three days before taking the train to London...and then I figured it was time I went home.”
Darlene lets out a low whistle. “Wow. You really carpe diem-ed the shit out of the last three months, didn’t you?”
Dom chuckles and shakes her head. “Three months is a really long time. I couldn’t just stay in one city.” There’s a pause as Dom mentally gathers up the courage to say, “But you already knew all of that, didn’t you?”
Darlene immediately lifts her head to stare at her. Her brow is furrowed and her mouth is slightly parted. “Oh, c’mon. Don’t act surprised.” Dom shrugs. “You should’ve expected this.”
“How?” Darlene’s fingers visibly tighten around her drink.
“I know you a lot better than you think, Darlene. I knew you weren’t going to initiate contact, but I also knew that you couldn’t just not know because you’re weird like that, so I assumed you’d find a way to check up on me. This was all just pure speculation, by the way - I didn’t actually feel one hundred percent confident about it until you showed up at the bar on Friday. That’s when I knew for sure, because how else could you have known I was there?” Darlene begins to shift around in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with the fact that Dom can see right through her. “You told me before that I hold onto a lot and I hold on tight, but what about you? You act like you don’t care, but you do. You care a whole damn lot. You just don’t like showing it.” When Darlene shakes her head and looks away, Dom throws her a smirk. “You’re the most non-caring caring person I’ve ever met.”
“That doesn’t even make any sense.”
“You know I’m right. That’s why you snooped on your brother, and that’s why you snooped on me.” There’s a smug pride building up inside of her, and the more dismissive Darlene is the more smug she feels. “How did you do it, anyway? I was an entire ocean and a handful of countries away from you.”
Darlene takes a drink, her eyes forcing themselves to look at anything but Dom. “It’s not that hard. I just had to rig a few-”
Dom raises a hand the second rig comes out of Darlene’s mouth. “Y’know what, forget I asked. This is why you belong at Cyber Command.” She sighs. “I can’t believe I almost ripped my stitches running across an entire goddamn airport for you.”
“Whatever.” Darlene finally finishes the last of her sandwich. “Aren’t you gonna lecture me on how I just invaded your privacy?”
“Why should I?” Dom shrugs. “You already learned your lesson with Elliot, so I know you won’t do it again - at least I hope you won’t.”
Darlene raises an eyebrow. “So you waited for Elliot to call me out first before doing it yourself? Is that what you meant by when you’ve got it all figured out, I’ll be here?”
“You called yourself out when you confessed to Elliot first. I just called you out afterward.” Dom takes a swig of her beer. “Would you have brought it up if I didn’t?”
“I was going to!” Darlene exclaims. She’s clearly flustered now, and Dom has to bite her lip to hold in her laughter. “I was just working my way up to it. I had to have a goddamn panic attack first before I was able to tell Elliot, so cut me some fucking slack.”
A thought suddenly pops into Dom’s head. “Wait. If you knew where I was the whole time, why did you break in that night? You would’ve known I was back.”
There’s a long pause. Darlene begins to fiddle with her bottle again. “I stopped about a month ago. I only checked in on Friday after I learned you were back.”
“Why did you stop?” Somewhere in the background, No Need to Argue comes to an end, and Alexa starts to play Dreams.
Darlene shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. Maybe I realized you were doing exactly what you were supposed to be doing, which was getting the rest you needed and taking some time for yourself, and I didn’t feel like I had to check in anymore.” She finishes the rest of her drink. “I followed you all the way to Copenhagen, and that was it.” She pauses again, sucking in a deep breath, like she’s preparing herself for something. “I...never really apologized to you. For everything that happened.”
“It’s fine, Darlene.” Dom replies dismissively. “Honestly, I’m used to all of the dumb shit you pull on a daily basis.”
“But that’s the problem: You shouldn’t be used to it. Instead, I should be wising the fuck up and not do dumb shit all the time.” Darlene takes another second to pull herself together. “I’m not just talking about these past couple of days; I’m talking about everything: Stealing your badge, the whole thing with Irving, the Dark Army, Janice, all of it. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just...really fucking sorry for everything that I’ve ever done to you. I know this half-assed apology doesn’t really make up for anything, but I just want you to know that.” She turns away, breaking eye contact.
The stirring in her chest from before comes back full force, but she doesn’t fight it this time. Dom leaves her seat, makes the short trek to where Darlene is sitting, and cups a hand against her cheek. “That’s why I didn’t reach out. You needed to learn how to deal with things on your own - and you did, even though you feel like you haven’t made much progress.” She bends down and plants a kiss on her forehead. “I’m proud of you, Darlene, and I hope you keep it up. I don’t want to be anywhere in this new world without you.” Her smile is soft, borderline sheepish. “Three months was long enough.”
Darlene looks like she was just slapped in the face. It’s obvious she isn’t used to this kind of praise or affection, and it breaks Dom’s heart because she deserves so much of both. She thinks about why she might not be used to it, and none of the possibilities are happy ones - but whatever the actual reason is, Dom would like to know someday. Whenever Darlene is ready to share that with her.
Darlene’s hands slowly rise up to frame Dom’s face, and she pulls her down for a kiss. This time, they move slowly, almost languidly. All of the other kisses they’ve shared before were quick, sudden, and aggressive; it was always in the heat of the moment, with a sense of urgency, almost like they’ll never be able to do this again.
But now, there isn’t any pressure to act fast. Time isn’t running out - in fact, it’s dragging. It’s moving so slowly, but neither of them are complaining about it. They have all the time in the world to learn more about themselves and each other. There’s no need to rush.
Dom moves her hands to Darlene’s shoulders, tugging her to her feet, and she smiles against her mouth when she complies. Darlene allows Dom to gently push her against the closest wall, her hands dragging up from the sides of her face to her hair. Dom pulls Darlene closer, wrapping her arms around her waist and pressing their hips together.
Dom reluctantly pulls away a couple of minutes later, her chest heaving and face flushed. “Hold on.” She heads over to her closet and drops to her knees, rummaging through something.
She can hear Darlene groaning somewhere behind her. “Come on, Dom. I swear to God, if you’re checking up on your gun right now I’m gonna-”
“Can you stop complaining for five seconds?” Dom emerges with a small manila envelope. She sits on the edge of her bed and pats the spot next to her. “I just remembered that I have something for you.”
“And you have to do this now?”
“Yes, now, so sit your ass down before I make you.”
Darlene is still leaning against the wall; her smile is tantalizingly devious. “What if I want you to make me?”
Dom would’ve normally unraveled at that, but not tonight. She rolls her eyes instead. “Just come here, please.” When Darlene gives up and begrudgingly takes a seat next to her, she hands over the envelope. “Open it.”
Darlene shoots her a glare, but she flips the top of the envelope open and reaches inside. “What-” Her eyes widen when she pulls out a small stack of postcards, one for every country Dom visited.
“I didn’t know where to send them, so I started collecting them with the intent to just give it all to you in bulk when I got back.” Dom reaches for the Brussels card and flips it over. “I wrote something in each of them.”
She patiently sits in silence as Darlene reads through all of the cards. The messages aren’t anything special or enlightening; they’re mostly just quick blurbs about what she’s been up to, the things she’s seen, and how she wished Darlene was with her.
“I...” Darlene is speechless as she gently pushes the postcards back into the envelope, handling them with extreme care, as if she’s afraid she’ll bend or warp them with the slightest touch. “These are...really nice.” She sets the envelope aside and begins to fiddle with her hands. Dom’s never seen Darlene this nervous before. “Sorry. I don’t really know what to do. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”
“It’s okay.” Dom places a hand on Darlene’s cheek, her thumb gingerly brushing the skin beneath her eye. “You don’t have to do or say anything.”
“But I should.” Darlene mumbles, reaching up to grasp her hand. “I want to.”
“You’ll come up with something eventually. There’s no need to force it.” Dom smiles. “We’ve got time.”
She didn’t know it would feel so liberating to say that until now, and she knows Darlene feels the same because she’s nodding against her palm and finally smiling. “Yeah. I guess we do.”
Dom moves in for another kiss, which Darlene happily accepts. They pull apart a few seconds later, exchanging small smiles beneath heavy-lidded eyes, and they kiss again, but it’s cut short when Darlene unexpectedly leans away to yawn. Was she able to sleep last night? Did she have another nightmare? She looks exhausted.
“You really need some rest.” Dom heads over to her closet and tosses her old Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt over to Darlene.
“Ugh.” She hears her grumble as she reaches for something to change into. “Fine, have it your way.”
Not long afterward, Darlene is partially hidden somewhere beneath the blankets and pillows, seemingly fast asleep. After shutting Alexa off and tucking the postcards into Darlene’s backpack, Dom checks her safe one last time to make sure everything’s in order. Just as she’s about to lock it up for the night, she spots the passport sitting near the back; it’s the fraudulent one, the one she used in Europe.
She grabs it and flips it open to the photo page, tracing a finger over the false name. For three months she had the opportunity to live someone else’s life, to pretend she wasn’t an overworked, socially inept FBI agent who deluded herself with the illusion that she just had too much work to do to focus on her personal life. Through this fake passport she was able to reinvent herself and finally start working towards becoming the person she was always meant to be: Confident, approachable, with the self-awareness to accept that it’s okay to step back every once in awhile and take care of herself.
But she’s home now, and she isn’t the person in that photo anymore. Now she’s just Dom, who is still kind of nervous and socially inept, but she’s not as bad as before. She’s better, smarter. She’s not all the way there yet and there’s plenty of work to do until she gets there, but for once in her life she’s looking forward to it. She’s actually excited for the challenges that lie ahead, and she owes it all to the imaginary person staring up at her from this falsified passport - and the jerk who went through the trouble of getting it for her, who also happens to be sprawled out on her bed right now.
“Later, Jackie.” She smiles, as if she’s recalling a fond memory of an old friend who’s no longer here. “It was nice knowing you.”
The longer she stares at it, the less sentimental her thoughts become, and her logic and unwavering sense of morality kicks in. She briefly thinks about how she should dispose of this thing without leaving a trail that can easily lead authorities back to her. It’s an illegal document, and if she gets caught with it right before her admin leave is finished she could be in even hotter water than she already is. Maybe she should ask Darlene; this probably isn’t the first time she’s had to get rid of something like this.
As if on cue, Darlene calls out to her from the bed; her voice is gravelly and slightly slurred with fatigue.
“Can you just stop doing whatever the fuck it is you’re doing over there and come spoon me already?”
Dom’s neck and face suddenly feel ten degrees hotter. She rolls her eyes, though she also can’t help the smile that forces its way onto her lips, and tosses the passport back in the safe before finally locking it. She’ll figure it out tomorrow.
She finally crawls into bed, locates Darlene underneath the sheets, and curls an arm around her waist, cuddling as close as she possibly can as she buries her nose into Darlene’s hair. She can feel Darlene’s chest expand and decompress as she sighs with relief, and when Darlene leans back a bit to press their bodies even closer, Dom closes her eyes and drops her chin on her shoulder.
Sleep easily overtakes the both of them.