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“You don’t need me for anything else?”
“Nope. Nothing that can’t wait until the morning, I’ve got this.”
“Don’t stay too late, DiPierro. Try to pretend you have a life outside of this.”
“Will do, Norm. Say hi to the kids for me.”
Norm nods in acknowledgement before he shuts the door, Dom waves and groans, stretching out her back, the worn leather chair she had adamantly claimed weeks ago proving to be yet another poor decision.
Her eyes flick to the monitors out of habit, noting that Darlene is still in the kitchen working on a puzzle, her face pulled into a frown.
Darlene’s concentration shifts, her head snaps up, standing unexpectedly. She walks through the living room and to the door, peaking through the blinds.
Dom watches on, she’s been doing a lot of that lately, over the weeks they’ve had Darlene cooped up downstairs, protecting her, tracking her. It’s a game Dom’s become fond of, something that’s more than just filling the time and doing her duty as an agent, trying to work out what is going on inside Darlene’s head.
Darlene is… She’s noticed Norm leaving. Interesting, Dom thinks.
Darlene makes no move to go back to her puzzle, just stands and waits, watching people on the street pass from the basement she’s essentially being held prisoner in. Dom tells herself she doesn't feel guilty, that the jarring feeling in her gut is from lack of sleep and a massive workload.
The chinese takeout that’s been sitting untouched to the side of her desk for the past hour suddenly seems like a good idea, Dom reaches for the bag, fishing around for some chopsticks. Her eyes break from the screen as she stands and heads towards the fridge.
She doesn’t usually drink when she’s on the clock, but having Norm as a partner has made her relax, he bends the rules, keeps the fridge in the safehouse stocked with beer for late nights like these and Dom is beginning to appreciate it.
She walks back over and sits down, reclining in her seat with her feet up on the desk, practically inhaling the chinese food once she manages to lock it securely between the chopsticks.
It’s become some sort of morbid entertainment for her, watching Darlene in the monitors while she eats and sips on her beer, winding down in the evenings when she’s not quite ready to head home for the day. There’s nothing much for her at home anyway, only a messy apartment, Alexa and insomnia.
Norm has made a few comments here and there about it, the compulsion she has with watching Darlene. He’s said enough for Dom to pay attention to the fact she’s paying a lot of attention to the reluctant informant downstairs.
The truth is… Darlene is, intriguing. A constant niggle at the back of her mind. The fascination she had developed chasing fsociety and, for awhile, unknowingly chasing Darlene pushed her to her limits as a person and an agent. Catching Darlene was entirely different, familiar.
From the very first contact, the first face to face interview, one on one, just the two of them, Dom had felt it. A confirmation of sorts, but what had been confirmed still alludes her. Often, she’ll look back at that day and her mind starts to swim with words like fate, purpose and special.
In her sleepless nights Dom stares at the ceiling, thoughts twisting and turning until they end up at the same destination they always do, Darlene.
Darlene who is currently… Sitting on the couch looking forlorn and conflicted. Which isn’t a change, Dom’s used to seeing the sullen expression and broken body language, her mood easily translating through the screen.
Dom finishes her chinese, stuffing it back into the plastic bag, halfheartedly clearing the mess she’s made in front of her. She drops her feet from the desk and leans closer, studying. There’s no new information she can learn from this, but Dom feels compelled to watch regardless.
As if she can sense the eyes on her, Darlene moves, walking to the kitchen table to grab something from it before moving back to the couch. Dom’s gaze follows her from one monitor to the next and back again as she takes another swig from her beer.
Dom squints.
Darlene has a… Note pad and a pen.
She starts scribbling, writing in big, bold strokes before she holds the note pad up, in full view of the hidden camera Darlene must know is there.
I’m bored.
Dom snorts, the unexpected message catching her off guard. Darlene puts the note pad down, reaching for the phone on the coffee table instead. The very same phone that was advised only to be used in emergencies, a direct line to Dom’s phone upstairs on the desk.
It rings and Dom ignores it, watching Darlene’s face flood with annoyance.
She knows the strict rules she has to follow when engaging in contact with a CHS, knows that whatever Darlene is trying to do now falls outside of those rules, the clear boundaries that have been set.
Darlene sends a glare to the camera, picking up the note pad. Dom can almost hear the sound of the pen being heavily pressed against the paper, the angry scratch of her words.
Pick up.
The phone rings again, Dom sighs at the shrill noise. Darlene must be aware that she’s there, that Dom hasn’t left yet.
Dom lets it ring out, it’s harder this time, the temptation to give in coiling like a snake ready to strike. She rocks back in her chair and huffs, considering that maybe it’s time to go home. She packs her things and begins shutting down the screens one by one.
Something stops her before she shuts down the final monitor.
I have new intel.
Bypassing the message directed at her, Dom stares at Darlene’s face through the screen, the desperation that spills out of her eyes more prominent than usual, it hits Dom directly in the chest and the air rushes out of her lungs. She cringes as she shuts down the monitor, stealing one last glimpse before the screen cuts to black.
Darlene is lying, Dom has watched her all day, watched her float about downstairs doing puzzles and reading. There have been no incoming calls from her brother or anyone related to fsociety, nothing.
Dom closes the door to the safehouse, her keys jingling loudly as she locks it. She takes slow steps down the stairs, lingering. When she reaches the pavement she turns back and can see Darlene staring at her through the window, illuminated by the lamp light behind her in the darkness.
With an expectant look on her face Darlene shrugs, it’s no invitation and Dom doesn’t take it as one, but she can’t quite get her feet to move, unable to will them into walking towards her apartment.
“What the fuck am I doing?” Dom asks herself, spinning around, walking to the basement door. Darlene’s face immediately brightens, the sight of it fails to make Dom feel any better about her decision.
Darlene swings the door open before Dom has the opportunity to turn back.
“How kind of you to join me, come in, make yourself at home,” Darlene says sarcastically, “I have cigarettes and water, whatever tickles your fancy,” Dom steps inside, awkwardly brushing past Darlene as she makes her way into the living room.
“Nice trick, that's new,” Dom tilts her head to the note pad on the couch.
“Thanks, I knew you were watching,” Darlene smirks.
Dom coughs, already feeling out of her depth as her eyes dart around the downstairs apartment they have kept Darlene in. It looks a lot smaller compared to when it’s displayed on the monitors. She’s been here before, of course, but the walls somehow seem closer this time.
“So, the intel?” Dom asks, dropping her bag from her shoulder onto the couch, putting her hands on her hips, hoping the action is enough to convey to Darlene that she’s not here to play games.
“Wow,” Darlene gapes, “Getting down to business already?” Dom knows Darlene is goading her, always pushing.
“Dude, let me take your jacket or something,” Darlene offers, trying to shift the no-nonsense mood.
Dom doesn’t move for a long time, weighing up the options in her mind. She isn’t sure what this is yet, what Darlene wants. Dom takes off her jacket and hands it to Darlene, figuring that the longer she stays here the longer she has the chance to find out.
“See, isn’t that better?” Darlene hangs Dom’s jacket on the back of the door and walks towards the kitchen, coming back with a lighter and a packet of cigarettes.
“You want one?” Darlene holds out a cigarette and Dom shakes her head, “Non-smoker, good to know, I’ll add that to the list.”
“What list?” Dom asks.
“The things I know about you list,” Darlene shrugs, “There’s like… Three things on it, including the fun fact I just uncovered.”
“And they are?”
Darlene saunters past Dom, bumping her on the shoulder as she starts, “One, you’re a non-smoker,” Dom rolls her eyes.
“Two,” Darlene sits down on the couch, lighting up a cigarette as she reaches for the ashtray, “You’re an FBI agent.”
Dom hates herself for laughing, hates how Darlene appears to like it.
“Three,” Darlene leans back, her eyes begging for attention as she stretches out like a cat on the couch, “You’re kinda hot.”
Dom blinks rapidly, “That is… That’s not appropriate, Darlene.”
“Tell me about it,” Darlene says and takes a long drag of her cigarette.
The urge to blush rises as fast as her anxiety, the tough agent act she puts on for the world starts to crack under Darlene’s stare. She could spin this, get Darlene to divulge secrets by playing along.
Acting. That’s what Dom settles on, something to justify why she’s here, an explainable reason to stay. She refuses to admit that she’s staying, talking to Darlene, because she wants to.
“Your list is terrible, by the way,” Dom sits down on one of the arms of the couch, opposite from where Darlene is sitting, “Definitely could use some work.”
Darlene raises one of her eyebrows, “I don’t have the kind of resources you and the bureau do,” she pauses, “Well, not right now anyway.”
“You probably shouldn’t be telling me that,” Dom says, hiding a grin behind her hand.
“Why? Are you going to arrest me? Turn me into a confidential human source? Make me snitch on my brother?” Darlene questions dramatically, waving her cigarette around, “Wait… This sounds familiar…” She finishes, snuffing out her cigarette.
“Very funny,” Dom says, trying not to yawn.
“Why are you here?” Darlene asks, face suddenly serious.
“You said you had intel,” Dom answers, as if it’s obvious.
“Why are you really here?” Darlene tries again, shuffling on the couch, moving closer, her body angling towards Dom perched on the arm of the chair, “Because, seriously. I’m not buying it, I’ve pulled that same stunt a few times now.”
“That’s why I’m really here, Darlene,” Dom states, wavering under the accusations.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night…”
“I don’t,” Dom bites, her voice sharp, growing tired of the games. Darlene shifts forward in her seat, Dom’s rough tone capturing her full attention.
“Don’t what?” Darlene digs, always digging for something.
She hasn’t made up her mind about why Darlene does it. Whether it’s out of boredom or finding something to hold over her later on or genuine interest.
At this point Dom’s not sure what would be worse.
Dom runs her hand over her face, “I don’t sleep at night.”
“Oh,” Darlene says, falling silent.
The tension in the room changes after Dom’s confession, she can acutely feel the momentum turn. Her skin itches, uncomfortable, she’s supposed to be gathering information about Darlene, not the other way around.
A quiet murmur breaks the tension that’s building, “I guess I just found number four on the list.” Dom laughs, stupidly.
Darlene wiggles, pressing herself against the other side of the couch, “You can sit down, you know?” Darlene pats the spot next to her, Dom hesitates, “Look, you won’t catch cooties from me, I’m all the way over here.”
Dom relents, toppling from the arm of the couch to down beside Darlene. This is close, Dom thinks, but she’s too tired to do anything about it.
“Do you watch me? When you’re here working late… Sometimes I swear I can feel eyes on me, I know it’s you.” Dom flinches, unprepared. She tries to get up and move away but Darlene stops her, gripping her arm tightly before she’s able to get to her feet.
“It’s okay, dude,” Darlene gives her arm a squeeze before releasing her grip, “I kind of already know the answer.”
“I can’t help it. At first I was just doing my job, keeping tabs on you,” Dom says, “I’m not sure when it became different, or why it changed, but it did.”
Darlene’s brow furrows, processing what Dom’s said. She doesn’t react in the way Dom thought she would, she isn’t shocked, repelled or even angry. It surprises Dom, that Darlene keeps surprising her.
“You are… Intriguing, agent DiPierro.” Dom snorts, thankful Darlene has moved on quickly from the last question.
“Likewise,” Dom nods, “And it’s Dom, just… Call me Dom, it’s easier.” The corners of Darlene’s lips twitch upwards gradually, a slow smile spreading across her face.
“Dom,” Darlene draws out carefully, almost like she’s trying to decide how the name tastes in her mouth.
“Are you lonely?” Dom softly asks, turning her head to catch Darlene’s eyes before she has the chance to look away.
“A little,” Darlene answers, sighing, “This shit isn’t a walk in the park.”
“I can imagine,” Dom says.
“Are you lonely?” Darlene asks, firing back with the same question Dom had asked her only moments earlier.
This time it’s Darlene that watches Dom, observing as her face falls, wounded as she fixes her stare to the ground.
“Yes.” Dom admits, counting on one word to be enough.
Darlene nudges Dom backwards, her hands on Dom’s shoulders as she pins her against the couch. Without a fight or any sort of objection, Dom lets her, knowing deep down she wants this, that it has all been leading to this.
Darlene straddles her, pressing her hips hard into Dom’s. She holds Dom’s face in her hands gently, searching for a reason to stop, Dom knows she won’t even attempt to give her one.
Shifting upwards, Dom kisses Darlene, sick of watching and waiting. Darlene’s mouth is electrifying as it moves against her own, her hands finding Darlene’s hips the instant their lips meet and Dom digs her nails into the soft flesh.
“I can’t.” Dom says, a weak sound spilling out of her, guilt, feeling obligated to at least try to fight this.
"You can… And you will.”
Not needing to be told twice, Dom kisses Darlene again.