wytchcroft

She loved Vancouver and she loved to dance...
under the moody rusted fire escapes, along the wide alleys behind the back of tenements and with the chill wind catching her skirts. The sun like another flashbulb popping on and off between shutters of cloud. The music around her and the underlying traffic drone just another murmur of appreciation as she balanced her body backwards, as she flung out an arm, as she rippled and twisted with liquid grace. There was always freedom in dancing, in movement, in her body.

Meant a lot. The arduous hours of discipline, day by day through how many years - even she had trouble recalling - paid off with a physical display that was so immediate seeming, so instinctual and spontaneous that even the hardened photographers flubbed shots and angles, distracted.
"Oh you're good" purred somebody.

She smiled. Click. Flash! Applause. Feel the moment darling - be the moment - a moment is forever... one of her dance tutors must have said to her. She was tired though, this extra session was on the heels (so to speak) of an already gruelling shoot. Dannielle should've been here but the girl was a no-show, holed up in the hotel still, sleeping off, sleeping with, last nights conquest no doubt. They'd raised merry hell together but it was Dannielle who claimed the luxury of absence.

Still, who cared when there was this; to dance, to be a model, a muse even, didn't David always say that? David. She was glad this wasn't the 90s. David would've have hung out wild with the Sorrenti brothers, Jaime King and River Phoenix. He had attitude. "I'm fucking up for freedom," he said one time, in parody of her, but that was BS. He did have some pretty whack friends, sure, but not like...

and he wasn't here... and if he was with Dannielle...
The tightening of her abdomen threatened to ruin her pose.
The wolfish grins of the snappers were bright enough though.
No - her mood was spoiled now, quite suddenly. She lowered her arms but raised a hand.
"'k fellas - got what you need?"
"Baby - YOU'VE got what I need!" said a voice.
"Ignore him honey, he watches too much cheap TV. You need a break? Hey can we get this girl a, what, a juice, a coffee?"
She was barely listening to the two men but managed an automatic, "Can I get a tea - lemon?"
She was trying hard to put herself back in the zone; the free spot, the dance.
Couldn't be recaptured.

Someone killed the volume on the Blaster and silenced Tegan and Sara in mid flow.
She felt a little dizzy now, light headed. Well, freedom'll do that you she figured.
Tea should help. Nothing like the feel of Starbuck's Styrofoam to anchor a girl back to reality.

A few minutes later and someone brought it over. Just had to let it cool some first.
Damn, just couldn't keep the nag out of her head. Where were they?

People didn't just... except sometimes they did. Perched on a step now, her ass was getting cold and she shivered as shifted uncomfortably. A shadow fell across her. "Here," said a voice, "you need this?" A broad hand held out a cardigan. CdG - she loved CdG, or at least she thought she did, thought she should, probably. "Thanks... I feel a little weird." She wrapped the thin material about her.

"That's ok - it was quite a night," the voice said with sympathy.
Oh, it was one of the snappers, funny she didn't remember him from last night. Hell, she didn't even remember last night!
"Are we done here?" the man asked loudly, voices made neutral reply. "Good, ok, nice shoot people." He sat down next to her.
"You finish that and it's back to the hotel. You've had a hard day, get some rest. I was gonna say beauty sleep but..."
"Please don't," she said.
The man nodded a 'point taken'. He was wearing a leather jacket, it smelt nice - but it also smelt new.
"I know you?" She asked him.
"Ok, now I know you need downtime." The guy shook his head.
That wasn't really an answer though, was it.
"You help me up?"
"Sure."
"I feel kinda woozy."
"'sAlright, here, grab an arm."
She felt herself hoisted up. Hard to believe she'd been dancing only moments ago - been loosed, been free.
"Where we going again?"
"Hotel, bed, sleep."
"I could sleep right now."
"On your feet? Even on you that might not look so good."
He was trying to be nice, she knew that and did her best to smile. It was pretty weak though.
So was she. She leant on his arm.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I don't wanna mess up the -"
"Mess up? Forget that - you done good here, good work."
"I did? I don't remember."
"Here you go."
"This your car?"
"Uh-huh." And she hardly felt the seat she slid into, barely heard the chunk! of the doors, the sound of the keys in the ignition.
"Where's... D?" Her voice shook.
"Don't worry your head with that - we cleaned up. You forget the tape - but we bagged it."
"Tape?"
"Yah, sure the tape - him and those... 'associates' last night. With everything else you've collected I'd say we can close their whole private 'operation'. Pity about the girl... but you made a right call." There was a dull roaring in her ears - had to be the car. Her sleepy eyes were closing. "Now it's just a no-brainer of a case," the man continued as they pulled away. "The cops'll want it off the books from the get go. No questions asked."
"I - feel - sick."
"Just keep you head down and sleep it off. Freedom comes at a price these days - but tomorrow the sun comes up, toast, coffee, bacon, whatever - you won't remember a thing."
"Freedom..."
"So it aint much of a price at all." He smiled at her then from the driver's seat.
But she was gone already.

...................................
this was written before dollhouse aired.