Time Warp: Tu es le Silence (Dom)

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Canon; July, 2013

---

Lucy didn't ever think she'd be one of those girls.

Not that she was, but in her current state she felt it. The need for some kind of serenity.

The eldest Serrano stretched her arms above her head as she stood outside the door labelled 211. Lyra was a friend. A young one, but one who thought and acted above her years in some aspects of her life. She didn't burn Lucy for details of her life, or her feelings, or personality. They hung out, talking down about Hammel and watched horror movies. She didn't want anything from the Australian. She didn't expect a change in her either. Because she didn't know her as anyone but herself. She didn't know - and Lucy wouldn't tell her - but her company was grounding. Something stable.

Not to say Sawyer was a bad friend. On the contrary. But their relationship was one that chose to glide across the surface; never peering underneath the ice for clarification and depth. She couldn't talk to her even if she wanted to.

Where did that leave the tattooed one? Shrugging her shoulders and appearing on another doorstep.

2-0-5.

For a very brief moment, Lucy pressed her forehead against the cool door. This was so stupid. No, it really was. He was either going to be asleep, drunk as hell or - worst of all - with someone. Ugh, that wasn't something she wanted to walk in on. Well, it felt like that or sleep on the ground, because she desperately wanted to avoid the twenty questions her other friends might force upon her. At least she could steal a night on his common room couch.

With a belated sigh, she lifted her head again. Her hand curled into a gentle fist and she knocked a couple of times.

Dark eyes glanced up at the blonde stint of so-called perfection, distant and vague. Her eyes were briefly caught by the strange reddening of his cheek. Was that a bruise forming? "Before you say anything," She paused, her hands retreating to the pockets of her jacket. And for a brief moment, her eyes turned down to the ground as if watching her sharpened expression fall. "Just... Don't be a dick about this, okay?"

[Dominique Chevalier]

Surprising everyone, including himself, Dom wasn't drunk or... entertaining. He'd been sleeping, or trying to, when someone had knocked on his door. Muttering to himself, still not totally awake, he ran hand through his hair quickly (priorities) and pulled open the door a crack.

It was not any of the people who he'd expect to appear at his door in the middle of the night. Dom blinked, for a moment totally speechless. He took a moment and automatically started to smirk as his brain jumped to all the snide comments he could make, to dispel the sense of 'something' he was still trying to shake off. He opened his mouth but she got there first, and his jaw closed like a trap.

Don't be a dick? He could... try?

"Alright," he said finally, and opened the door a little wider. "Did you, ah, want to come in then or something?" The terrakenetic looked around behind her to check. He was mostly naked, just a pair of navy CK briefs, but it was passed midnight so that really shouldn't have been a surprise for his tattooed friend.

He felt a little awkward anyway, which was bullshit, as Dom was the epitome of body confidence. He wrote the book on owning your nudity, or your almost nudity, and so crushed the discomfort up and tucked it away.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Dom's response wasn't quiet what she expected. Lucy had thought he'd retort with something along the lines of how impossible it was for him not to be a dick. Or to use his dick. She didn't know, but she'd assumed the response would primarily involve a quip about his penis that would have her cringing with a subtle grin and, well... They'd banter away.

Her eyes instantly traveled downwards when the door opened more and she did cringe, though there was no subtle grin tacked to the end of it. Of course he slept practically naked. Ninety-five percent naked. This was not her night. And she looked back towards the way she could travel to her own room. Maybe it was easier to just laugh and bail?

But who might be waiting for her..?

"If that's okay." She said finally. Ugh, politeness. It was so bitter in her mouth she could barely stand it. But despite how distant he'd been over the last day or so - after the kiss which would now be referred to in her mind as the Incident - it surprised her that he was willing to even talk. At the prompt she made her way into the room, glancing around the silent common area. Tidy. She wasn't surprised at that. "Can you do something for me?" Lucy asked, turning on a heel and glancing back at him. Her dark eyes were directly positioned on his face.

Not his practically naked body. Or his all-but-displayed package. "You're not expecting hardcore through traffic for the rest of the night, are you? I... Need a place to crash." She exhaled on a sigh. That was harder to say than she realised.

[Dominique Chevalier]

It would be, Dom thought wistfully, so easy to say something like “like what you see?” or “the best is yet to come” when he saw Lucy give him the up and down. He would have, too, but it just... didn’t feel right. He wasn’t sure how she’d respond, if she’d just laugh (he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about that) or if she’d tell him to fuck off and leave (he wasn’t sure how he’d feel about that either.)

“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t ok,” Dom pointed out as he stepped out of her way, his eyes rolling up a little before he checked himself. He didn’t know what to do with his hands; should he cross his arms? Or, put them on his hips?

Why did it matter, they were just hands. He left them by his side after he’d closed the door, but they felt stupid and awkward. He needed his stress balls. Would it look weird if he got them out? Wha-

Wait, what?

Blue eyes sharpened into focus as he looked back at Lucy. “You want to stay here?” He asked, surprise showing openly on his face before he had a chance to check it. “You want to crash with me,” he said again, reaffirming what she’d said, before looking behind him at the bed he’d crawled out of just minutes ago. “Yeah, that’d cool.”

Wait, wait, wait. This was out of character (since when did he say cool?) And why would she-

“Not to be a dick or anything but, you know,” he shrugged as he turned back to Lucy, “why?”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

In the painful silence, Lucy just stared at him. Dark eyes were fixated on his face for the most part - only briefly did they wander again. And this time it was up. To his hair. Why did he opt to answer the door without putting clothes on if he'd obviously taken the time to do his hair?

Why was she asking herself that? She knew the answer. The hair was the most important.

She felt the weight of his question; did she want to stay there. Her eyebrows furrowed and she stared at him with confusion. Would she be there if she didn't? And for herself, did she even really want to? She could have easily crashed with Lyra instead. Or Sawyer, if she was really so desperate. "Yeah, okay. I-" Lucy stopped suddenly, as the penny seemed to drop.

"What? No, not with you with you." Wasn't that obvious? Stop looking at your bed, douche.

At the question of why, Lucy glanced quickly to the floor before shrugging off her jacket and leaving it over the back of the couch. The sleeveless shirt's lines dragged under the arm, offering the hint of a dark coloured bra and - of all things - a monster's hand across the side of her body. The Wonder Woman tattoo in all it's glory was flashing itself despite the darkness of the room. "I just do." She reasoned, turning to look at the common room's couch. "Here's fine, okay?"

And over her shoulder, she offered another glance. Her eyes lacked their usual stint of sarcastic humour. "So... Thanks."

[Dominique Chevalier]

To be fair, Dom reasoned with himself, he’d sort of guessed that she wasn’t here for sex. Didn’t mean it couldn’t have been fun-

Nope. Nope. He was not following down that train of thought.

“No fucking kidding,” Dom snapped back, finding momentary relief from the tension that came with watching his words so damn closely. “Did you hear me offer that??”

His eyes followed her arms as Lucy shed a layer, flicking down to the dark tattoo just under her bra. That didn’t spell ideal things about her mood then. He frowned, to himself this time, and rolled his eyes again when she refused to actually answer.

But, that was what she did. It was normal for her. It was a bit of a relief, honestly. If she didn’t want to tell him he wouldn’t press it.

“Wait,” once he realized her intention, Dom gave the couch a disdainful look. “Come off it, Luce. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” With one of his stupidly awkward hands, Dom gestured to the king sized bed behind him, rumpled sheets and all. “There’s room,” he pointed out, “and I’ll stick to my side, or whatever.”

He supposed he could even put a shirt on, if he really absolutely had to.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

"You didn't have to!" Lucy retorted, but she stopped herself from falling any further. She was trying to be grateful, so calling him an excess of names probably wasn't going to win her any points.

And she'd be thankful that he didn't push her for an answer, because she didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to have to admit to potentially losing control of something in her life. To the derailing of her comfort level and the loss of her own space.

Lucy turned to look at him completely again after tossing another glance towards the couch. She didn't really see what was wrong with it, but look at the look he was giving it. He'd probably never slept on anything less than a mattress stuffed with hundred dollar bills in his whole life. "Are you kidding? What did I just say?" She asked, her eyes a little wide at the thought. Her fingers curled into the fabric of her jacket. "If that's what it's gonna take you can shove this whole thing up your ass." Lifting it up from where she'd only just put it, Lucy started taking the necessary steps towards the door.

"Forget it. It's not worth it." She added, with every intention of brushing right past him and walking out. Though her steps were a little hesitant.

[Dominique Chevalier]

It happened pretty quickly. If pressed, he could put it down to instinct or some shit like that, but the fact remained that when Dom saw Lucy start to go, he acted. One hand reached out to curl around her bicep, not tightly, not to stop her, but to slow her.

“Hey,” he said, moving to stand in front of her as he looked at her from under blonde brows, “You’re being a moron, you know that?” There was no snideness in his voice, no edge meant to cut or wound at all. He exhaled, mouth twisting. “I just meant that it’s more comfortable. Your virtue will remain in tact, alright?”

His fingers tightened for a moment, a friendly reassurance, before he dropped his hand from her and used it to pluck at her jacket, tugging at it persistently.

That’s when the idea came, and it was foreign enough in its motivations that Dom nearly dismissed it based on that alone. But he’d seen the way her feet had, not quite faltered. And hell, for her to even make it to his door, let alone knock... She wouldn’t ask if this wasn’t her best option, or if Sawyer and that little kid hadn’t been there.

And, if he was going to be even a bit honest with himself, he didn’t want to prove he was a shit friend.

“If it bothers you so much, I can sleep... there,” he said, gesturing at the couch and firmly not thinking about what Carter would say to all this. “And you can just take the damn bed, ok?”

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

The sudden hand around her arm surprised her, partially because she didn't expect it. And partially because she didn't expect it to be to gentle. Slowing to a halt, Lucy watched as he moved in front of her. She searched his face for a recognisable emotion; but Dom wasn't an open book, and that made reading him almost impossible.

She hated that about him.

"I-" Lucy started, her voice cutting off abruptly. She'd been all ready to come at him with hits about how low he was for soliciting her, but even her mind caught up eventually. He hadn't said anything. She was guilty of assuming. "Shut up." The Australian shot out instead.

And she almost lost her jacket when he tried to take it from her. Despite the fact that she held it with a hand, it didn't seem to stop him from tugging it in the direction of his room. She followed when she had to, because he was significantly stronger than her even if either weren't really trying. But she actually stopped and apparently let the jacket go when he suggested another option.

"...Who are you?" Lucy asked, looking down at her hands. When did the sleeve slip out of her fingers? She dropped her hands to her sides. "That's... That's a worse idea than sleeping with you." Lucy explained. Because if there was one thing she understood, it was the importance of imagery. A roommate walking out in the morning to see him kicked out of his own room? What the hell would that look like?

Exhaling on a sigh, Lucy slumped her shoulders and walked passed him and entered the space of his bedroom. She'd... Well, she'd actually never seen it before. It just screamed of money. Especially because he had a decent sized bed, and what she normally slept on barely had room for one person. Let alone herself and a blue haired invader.

But then she just stood there. Because... Now what? Her mind was blocking out the thought of the myriad of people who'd been there. She doubted they were allowed to sleep over. Dom didn't seem the type to share.

"...Which side?" She asked. And she was going to firmly stick to the furthest part of whatever side she got.

[Dominique Chevalier]

"Well, at least you admit that there are worse ideas," Dom said with a hind of his old smirk, now apparently the sole holder of Lucy's jacket. He looked down at it in mild surprise; she never just gave up like that, before tossing it back to her as she walked passed him and into his room.

So, that was it. Now, Lucy was going to be sharing a bed with him. The terrakenetic wondered if the blue haired girl knew, then decided he really didn't give a shit about her anyway.

He'd bet she'd be pissed though. The corners of his mouth twitched up at the thought.

"I sleep on the left," he said, pointing to where the left pillows still showed the indention of his head. "So, right." Crossing her, he finally got to his desk and picked up the two quartz spheres he used as stress balls and let them roll over his palm.

Grey-blue eyes slid back to Lucy like magnets to metal as Dom slowly sat down on his side of the bed. He really wasn't sure if he should offer to put a shirt on or not. She hadn't asked; that was a plus, right?

"You don't snore or anything, right?" he asked finally, the feel of smooth crystal under his fingers bringing back some of his usual boldness.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy took her jacket back when it was tossed towards her, and she looked down at it very briefly. It was strange to have let it go so quickly. She'd blame it all on shock, obviously.

Looking at the bed specifically, Lucy's teeth sunk into her lower lip. The left was his, and that suited her just fine. She preferred being closest to the wall; furthest from the window and the door in case some crazy ex-hook up of his burst through and tried to kill him. Or maim him. Or whatever.

She ignored the fact that he was playing with his balls. The quartz ones, of course.

"No, I don't." Lucy retorted, as if speaking the fact helped prove a point. She dropped her jacket across the back of his desk chair, kicking off her shoes to produce bare feet. Glancing back over at him, Lucy found herself frozen in her position. She had to take other things off, right? Definitely not her jeans.

Turning on a heel, she opted to face away from him as her hands filtered up through her sleeveless shirt and unhooked the clasp of her bra. She pulled one of the straps over her arms, raising her attention suddenly. "What happened to your face?" Lucy asked, refusing to look at him as she pulled the item of clothing away from her body. She quickly tucked it underneath her jacket before she turned back to him.

[Dominique Chevalier]

Without needing his fingers to propel them on their path, the two balls of mineral spun smoothly over Dom's palm. It was a mental exercise, not a physical one, and it required just enough concentration to help keep his mind off other things.

The two balls clicked, the smoothness jarred as Dom caught sight of what Lucy was doing, but as she stared at him he managed to have them spinning again. He was a Chevalier, he'd seen a damn bra before. He kept his eyes on the spilling orbs in his hand instead, and scowled.

So the blue chick hadn't told her yet? Well, he'd give her a bit more time to come clean. The talk was coming up soon, that'd serve alright as a deadline.

"Why're you sleeping in my room?" he shot back as an answer, looking up with raised eyebrows, "if we're gonna start sharing secrets." His eyes dropped again, making it clear that as far as he was concerned that conversation was over.

But something else did catch his attention, and his brow furrowed again. "Serreno," he said slowly, disbelief clear in his voice, "you're not going to sleep in your jeans."

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Given that Lucy knew he was a terrakinetic, it should have been no surprise that he could spin his stress balls without effort. But it was a surprise. She thought he could only fiddle around with dirt.

But now wasn't the time to get impressed.

Her eyes narrowed on him instinctively when he asked why she was here again. Lucy bit back the fire on her tongue that threatened to send an insult his way. "Fine. Hint taken." She conceded. She didn't really care anyway.

And then he asked something else. Well, not asked...

"What?" Lucy breathed, exhaling on an unbelievable laugh. "Are you kidding? Are you-" She stopped abruptly. Words were no longer her ally. So she just shook her head.

Hitting on her? Again? Was he serious or was this a joke? "Are you demanding I get as naked as you?"

[Dominique Chevalier]

Dom's mouth twisted slightly; of course she'd take it that way. Couldn't she just chill out for five minutes? "Oh god, I won't look," he exclaimed, staring up at the ceiling. "It's not about that, mon chou. Don't flatter yourself. I like them curvier, nicer, and you know, willing."

He looked up that to meet hers without hesitation; it was only partially untrue, and the final part was completely. The very idea honestly made no sense to Dom; his father had made it pretty damn clear that there was nothing sexier then a 'yes', especially if it was sighed, or squealed.

"The only reason," he went on, "to sleep in your jeans is if you are drunk. I thought you wanted to get some sleep. But," he laid down on his back, holding the spheres against his palm with will alone, "your call. Do what you want. I don't care."

He totally didn't. Right?

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

Lucy all but glared in his direction. Could he not be himself for five minutes? This was hard enough as it was without his mild shots of humour. She had to suppose that toning it down was as much as he could actually offer. And that she should be grateful.

She watched as he looked at her directly in the eyes, and even with the distance there was something heavy about the way he was looking at her. She almost wanted to get closer, just to stare more willingly and try to figure him out.

But every time she tried, she never got anywhere. He never made any sense. And if it drove her crazy at the best of times, she couldn't imagine how she'd feel trying to now.

Turning around as he spoke, Lucy opened his closet and rifled through his belongings. Never for a moment did she think of how neatly stacked and pressed every article had been before she touched them. Sure enough, she found the drawer with the myriad of neatly folded black shirts. Pulling one out, she looked down at it.

Jesus, what size was this? Was it going to make a difference if it hugged him as tightly as his skin did?

Tossing it over towards him, Lucy thought of a reason; "I'll take them off if you put this on."