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‘Come in,’ Emma called, not looking up from where she was sat behind her desk.
There was a brief pause before the door handle turned and then the door was pushed open, revealing a large, heavy-set man with a mane of blonde hair that had been forcibly tamed to lie smoothed-back over his skull. The man was in a sharp, neatly-pressed suit but somehow he seemed to be as unsuited to it as a wild animal would have been.
‘Ah, Mr. Creed,’ Emma said, looking up from her desk, ‘I’ve been wanting to see you. Please do come in.’
The man promptly stepped inside the office, closing the door quietly behind him.
‘Have you made progress on our little problem?’ Emma asked when the door was shut.
Creed inclined his head.
‘We have been keeping track of him, yes ma’am,’ he said evenly, his voice deep and slightly rough, ‘At least, as best we can.’
Emma’s eyes narrowed at that.
‘As best we can?’ she repeated icily.
Creed grimaced.
‘He rarely leaves the apartment, ma’am,’ he explained, standing straight and not allowing a hint of apology to enter his words; he wasn’t making excuses, he was merely relaying the facts. ‘And he’s highly paranoid. It has been … difficult to effect an entry into his home. Even more so to do it without his knowledge and especially now that he has a neighbour, whom he appears to be friendly with. And if I may say so, ma’am, the floor of his apartment is like a minefield; he would know if anyone were to disturb it.’
Emma let out an impatient sigh and pushed the file on her desk shut.
‘This is not acceptable, Mr. Creed,’ she said in a clipped voice. ‘We are being poked and prodded by one nosy little policeman who has filled his head full of wild conspiracy theories and you’re saying that this is the best that we can do!’
Creed appeared unmoved by her ire.
‘I would hardly say that he is working solely on conspiracy theories, ma’am,’ he said neutrally, looking carefully at a spot on the opposite wall. ‘He does, after all, have the name of two of our operatives.’
‘Ah, yes,’ Emma said softly, narrowing her eyes and leaning back into her chair, ‘Gypsy and Charlie.’ She then let out an irritated sigh. ‘And of course it would be Charlie. I would have been more surprised if he hadn’t been involved.’ She shook her head impatiently. ‘The boy is in serious danger of becoming more trouble than he is worth.’
Creed studied his nails carefully.
‘There is always the Attic if he proves to be too much …’ he murmured, but Emma brushed the suggestion aside.
‘No, no,’ she said, shaking her head, ‘It’s not as bad as all that. Merely a small, petty annoyance, Mr. Creed, nothing worth sending the poor boy to the Attic over. It’s hardly his fault, after all. Besides,’ her mouth twisted into a wry grimace, ‘I am sure that Mr. Shaw would be terribly displeased if anything were to happen to his precious Charlie.’
Creed didn’t say anything.
‘No,’ Emma said thoughtfully, ‘the problem isn’t with my Actives. It’s with this wretched policeman. What was his name again?’
‘Lehnsherr,’ Creed readily supplied, even though he was quite sure that Emma hadn’t forgotten the name at all, ‘Detective Erik Lehnsherr.’
‘That’s right,’ Emma nodded. ‘Rather unfortunate that he should have been acquainted with Gypsy. You would think, though, that after all this time he would have given up.’ She sighed. ‘I really don’t know whether to be irritated or impressed.’
Creed took a deep breath.
‘There is something that you ought to know,’ he said quietly, his deep voice rumbling in the silence. ‘Something important.’
Emma instantly became alert and she sat up in her chair.
‘Tell me,’ she barked, her eyes narrowed.
‘Something happened,’ Creed said, ‘Something potentially dangerous for the Foundation.’ He paused. ‘As you know, we have been monitoring Detective Lehnsherr’s computer traffic …’
Emma nodded and waved him on impatiently.
Creed continued.
‘Well, it appears that he made a set of searches yesterday afternoon.’ His eyes met Emma’s. ‘The searches were all for names of both current and former Dollhouse clients.’
Emma’s spine tensed but that was all the reaction she showed at this news.
‘But that’s not all …’ Creed continued, sounding almost reluctant.
‘Go on,’ Emma said quietly.
Creed stared unflinchingly into her eyes.
‘All the Clients – all the names that he searched for?’
Emma nodded.
‘Well – they all used to be Clients of hers.’
Emma froze.
‘Are you sure?’ she asked in a low voice.
Creed nodded.
‘Mr. Creed, I asked you if you were sure.’
‘Yes,’ Creed said immediately. ‘Yes, ma’am. I’m sure. There’s no mistaking it.’
Emma shut her eyes for a moment. They snapped open after a second.
‘Goddamn it,’ she cursed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose. ‘This is the last thing I need. Especially with him coming in later.’ She held onto her nose for a moment longer before pulling her arm away and turning to face Creed again. ‘We must assume from here on out that Lehnsherr is working for her.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Creed said dutifully.
‘And that makes him highly dangerous,’ Emma continued, her eyes narrowed in thought. She paused for a moment before nodding. ‘I want you to pull all surveillance on Lehnsherr. Immediately.’
Creed jerked in surprise and couldn’t help staring at her.
‘All surveillance?’ he repeated, disbelieving. ‘Miss Frost – are you sure?’
Emma glared at him.
‘Yes, I’m sure,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t say things for my own amusement, Mr. Creed. I want you to pull our men out of there. We cannot risk her knowing that we have been watching.’ She grimaced. ‘You were with the Canadian branch at the time, so you will not remember this, but the last time she was cornered by our men … well, suffice to say that it was not pretty. I will not risk more members of our team, nor will I risk her becoming aware of our surveillance and fleeing before we can find her. Besides,’ she added, calmer now, ‘we will still be monitoring Detective Lehnsherr’s computer and his communications. I doubt that we will miss much. No,’ she said, leaning back in her chair, ‘We will do it this way. Things will come to a head sooner or later. Either she will show her hand or …’
Creed waited.
‘… Or he will come to us,’ Emma finished, her expression thoughtful. ‘Yes, I can see that happening quite easily. I shall be interested to have a conversation with this man … this detective.’ She paused. ‘After all, I am reasonably sure that I have something that he wants.’
Creed made no reply.
‘Very well,’ Emma said, shaking her head, ‘That will be all for now. You have your instructions, Mr. Creed. Would you care for me to repeat them?’
‘No, ma’am,’ Creed replied.
‘Good,’ said Emma, ‘Now, if you would be so kind as to apprise Dr. McCoy and your surveillance team of this new information, I have a few things that I need to take care of before this afternoon.’
Creed inclined his head respectfully.
‘Would you like any additional security on the premises for today with regards to your visitor?’ he asked, ‘Or perhaps even for the foreseeable future? If she is involved then perhaps it might be sensible …’
‘Yes, very good, Mr. Creed,’ Emma nodded, already sounding slightly bored. ‘I shall leave the details up to you. You are, after all, in charge of security in the Dollhouse. Will there be anything else?’
‘No, ma’am,’ Creed said, before ducking his head in a sharp nod, turning on his heel, and making his way out of the office.
Emma waited until the door had shut gently behind him before getting up from her seat and making her way over to the wet bar that she’d had installed in her office by the second day of her becoming the House Director. She calmly poured a finger of fine amber liquid into a small, crystal glass, before bringing it to her lips and throwing it all back in one go. She allowed herself to feel the burn of the liquid for a moment before slowly setting the glass down and walking back to her chair. With one last look around her, she straightened her already impossibly-neat skirt, and sat down behind her desk.
It was not even ten o’clock in the morning and already she was wishing that the day would be over.
*
Not five minutes after Emma had put the phone down there was a loud knock at the door.
‘Enter,’ Emma said briskly.
The door was pushed open to reveal Logan, who did not seem the least bit pleased to have been called into her office.
‘Mr. Howlett.’
‘Miss Frost.’
Emma studied him for a moment before speaking.
‘I take it that you are wondering why I called you into my office,’ she said evenly.
‘Got that straight,’ Logan muttered. He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at her. ‘So what is it this time? I been caught smoking on the premises? Swearing in front of my Active? Sneaking beer into the House when nobody’s looking?’
Emma’s eyes narrowed.
‘For both your sake and mine, Mr. Howlett, I seriously hope that you have not been doing any of the above,’ she said coldly. ‘Be assured that we take any breach of the House rules and regulations very seriously, and any further infraction on your part-’
She was interrupted by Logan rolling his eyes.
‘I was only tryin’ to be funny, Jesus!’ he said, huffing loudly.
‘You were trying, Mr. Howlett,’ Emma’s tone was frosty, ‘But I can assure you that you were not succeeding.’
Logan didn’t seem to be all that concerned.
‘Now,’ Emma said, turning her focus back onto more important things, ‘the reason I called you in here is to check on your progress with Charlie.’
Logan blinked.
‘You want a progress report?’ he asked slowly.
Emma stared back at him, expectant.
‘I just turned in a goddamn report two days ago!’ Logan growled. ‘Spent a hell of a lot of time on it, too. You telling me that you don’t even read that shi- … that stuff?’
‘Every word,’ Emma said blandly. ‘Now, if you would please begin.’
There was no response.
Sighing at the mulish look on Logan’s face, Emma raised her head. Apparently a little prompting would be necessary. ‘How is Charlie behaving?’ she asked. ‘Is he still insisting on being called Charles?’
‘You know he is,’ Logan said grumpily. ‘Not that he’s “insisting” or nothing. Everyone just kinda calls him that now anyway, without his asking.’
‘Including yourself?’ Emma asked sharply.
Logan eyed her with something close to dislike before shrugging.
‘Yeah,’ he said, his eyes meeting hers unflinchingly. ‘Yeah, I do. You told me to keep my Doll happy, so that’s what I’m fu- … what I’m damn well doing.’
Emma didn’t respond to that. She appeared to be mulling something over, a small frown appearing in the middle of her forehead. After a moment she shook her head, allowing her expression to smooth out into its usual blankness.
‘And his other behaviour?’ she asked crisply. ‘He hasn’t been exhibiting any alarming or unusual traits? Anything even slightly out of the ordinary?’
Logan gave her an odd look at that before firmly shaking his head.
‘No,’ he said resolutely. ‘Everything’s normal and hunky-freaking-dory. Ask McCoy if you don’t believe me.’
‘I am not questioning your veracity, Mr. Howlett,’ Emma said in a bored tone. She adjusted the angle of a pen on her desk before glancing over at Logan. ‘One more question. Have you ever encountered anyone strange on any of your Assignments?’
Logan stared at her.
‘I’m guessing you don’t mean the Clients,’ he said slowly. ‘But no, I can’t say I have. No one that stuck out, at any rate.’
‘You’re sure?’ Emma persisted. ‘No one following you, no one paying you undue attention …?’
‘Positive,’ Logan replied confidently. Then his eyes narrowed. ‘What’s this about, anyhow?’ he demanded. ‘What’s going on? Is Charles in trouble?’
‘Charlie is fine,’ Emma said pointedly, stopping Logan before he could continue further. ‘Nothing is the matter. Nothing that we cannot handle, at any rate.’
‘Charlie is my responsibility,’ Logan said stubbornly, his fists clenched and his body taut with suppressed tension. ‘If there’s something going on then I deserve to know about it.’
Emma eyed him for a moment before tilting her head in acquiescence.
‘Very well,’ she said calmly. ‘The simple fact of the matter is that Charlie has something of a stalker. Someone who is rather obsessed with him. Someone who could very well be dangerous both to Charlie and to the whole Foundation.’
Logan’s expression had become thunderous.
‘He’s got a goddamn stalker?’ he snarled, holding onto his anger only with great difficulty, ‘And you’re only telling me this now?’
‘I’ve told you whatever was necessary,’ Emma said composedly. ‘And yes, Charlie has a rather fervent and devoted admirer. It’s odd, isn’t it, how he seems to have that effect on people. Don’t you think, Mr. Howlett?’
Logan merely bared his teeth at her.
Emma sighed.
‘I will have the details sent to you tonight,’ she told him. ‘Everything that we have on file will be yours to peruse. After all,’ she added wryly, ‘Charlie is your responsibility.’
Logan still didn’t seem to be happy.
‘Why can’t I see the file now?’ he demanded suspiciously, arms still firmly crossed against his chest.
Emma’s eyes narrowed at his tone.
‘Charlie has an Assignment this afternoon,’ she said coldly. ‘A very important Assignment, if you must know, and I need him to be ready and on top form. Which, as I just reminded you, Mr. Howlett, is your responsibility. Or are you not up to the challenge?’
Logan looked ready to strike her.
‘Oh, I’m up for it,’ he snarled, casting a disgusted look around at the office as he made his way to the door, not caring that he hadn’t being excused. ‘I’m fucking delighted. In fact, I’ll go see Charlie right now. Someone has to truss up the turkey before it’s slaughtered, right?’
‘Delightful imagery, I’m sure,’ Emma said, attention already turned towards her desk. ‘Make sure Charlie is ready and prepared. It will be a twenty-four hour Assignment at the very least.’
Logan cast one more disgusted look at her before turning around and slamming the door behind him.
Emma waited for the china figurine on her desk to stop rattling before slowly bringing her hand up and pushing a strand of blonde hair away from her face. That done, she picked up her pen and, turning her eyes back to her desk, continued to write.
*
It was a few minutes after two when Emma heard the sound of feet in the corridor. She had just enough time to set down her pen and look up from her desk when the door swung open, revealing none other than Sebastian Shaw in her doorway.
‘Emma!’ he exclaimed, his gleaming white teeth sparkling as he bared them in a wide, satisfied smile. ‘It’s been a while!’
Emma slowly rose from her seat.
‘Sebastian,’ she said coolly, giving him a stiff little smile, ‘It has indeed.’
‘All is well, I trust?’ Shaw asked, walking around the office as if it were his own and staring at the shelves in interest. ‘Smooth sailing and calm waters and all that?’
Emma watched him for a moment before dipping her head in a nod.
‘As you say,’ she said calmly, ‘Everything is in order.’
‘Good,’ Shaw smiled, ‘You always were supremely capable, Emma. It’s one of the reasons why I made you Director.’
Emma’s eye twitched at the unsubtle reminder but she dutifully pasted on a pleasant smile.
‘A fact that I am continually grateful for, Sebastian,’ she said smoothly. ‘One cannot deny that you have quite the knack for finding talent.’
Shaw’s mouth lifted at that. If Emma were a lesser woman, she would have shuddered at the expression. As it was, her face remained blank.
‘Just so,’ Shaw murmured, 'And speaking of ...' A small, possessive smile curled at his lips, ‘How is my little Charlie? Getting on well, I hope?’
Emma didn’t so much as twitch.
‘I assure you that he is perfectly content,’ she said briskly, ‘His Clients all rate him very highly.’
‘He’s been kept busy?’ Shaw asked innocently.
Emma turned to look at him.
‘He is one of our most popular Actives, as you well know,’ she said coolly, before pointedly adding, ‘You yourself are not fully immune to his charms, after all.’
Shaw’s expression flickered at that but it quickly smoothened out into his usual expression of smug affability.
‘His charms are considerable,’ he said easily, smiling as a particular memory came to the fore. ‘Love at first sight, I’ve always thought.’
Emma suddenly found the wall opposite her very interesting to look at.
‘And you, Emma?’ Shaw continued, coming to lean his hip against her desk. ‘Are you immune to Charlie’s many charms?’ There was something ugly and possessive in the look that he gave her, as if daring her to reply in the negative.
Emma merely raised an eyebrow.
‘I regard all my Actives as if they were my children,’ she said coolly. ‘And unlike some of the Clients that we administer to, I am not in the least bit fond of incest.’
Shaw smirked at that, withdrawing from her desk.
‘You always were impervious,’ he said, an almost fond smile playing on his lips. ‘Never one to display the more human emotions. It’s what I like about you. Did you know, I once considered recruiting you as a Doll?’
Emma stiffened.
‘Yes,’ Shaw continued reflectively, ‘I had an idea that it would be rather amusing to see you like that … see what was beneath that frosty veneer.’
Emma’s jaw tightened.
‘I suppose I am lucky that you ran into Charlie before that could happen,’ she said evenly, her voice not at all betraying the seething anger that roared beneath her veins.
Shaw smiled at that.
‘Yes, I suppose you are,’ he said easily. ‘Now,’ he straightened up, the smirk gone and replaced with a brisk sort of professionalism, ‘Where are this quarter’s financial reports? From what I remember from my last visit, your little Darwin wasn’t pulling his weight. I hope that this quarter’s review is better – for his sake.’
Emma’s mouth thinned.
‘He’s doing very well,’ she said coldly, before asking, ‘Are you sure that you wouldn’t rather do this later?’
Shaw looked up at that, and a wide, amused smile spread over his face.
‘Later?’ he repeated jovially. ‘My dear Emma, later I have no intention of being disturbed for anything short of a nuclear explosion. So why don’t we get this whole thing over and done with so that I can spend the next twenty-four hours in blissful peace, hmm?’
Emma nodded her head.
‘Very well,’ she said. She then pulled out a file from the top of the pile on her desk and handed it to Shaw. ‘Here it is. This quarter’s individual and combined revenues along with the projections for the next six months. All here.’
Shaw took the file from her and smiled.
‘My dear, dear Emma,’ he said fondly, ‘The lone cog that turns the machine. Whatever would we do without you?’
Emma closed her eyes and wondered the same.