2010-01-23: Doppelgangup (Phantasm)



Guest Starring Annie Van Cortlandt (Hallis' Phantasmic Twin)

Posting Date: January 23, 2010


George has been working drinking too hard, Hallis takes it upon herself to ease him of the pressures of politics.


Dawson's Office - Hallis' Apartment

The Special Projects office has seen better days. When the conflict first erupted into the open, it was quietly repurposed as a schizophrenic situation room - presenting his regular staff the appearance of working against the Evolved, while only a select few knew it was just putting up a front while it carried out an increasingly hopeless attempt to defend them.

The effort hasn't been kind to George, either. Slumped back into a metal folding chair, his hair is disheveled as he clutches a near-empty bottle of cinnamon schnapps. He's not sure any more whether the drinking helps or hurts his pretense, and is running out of energy with which to care.

Finding George these days hasn't been a very difficult task for Hallis, he's practically living at the office nowadays instead of with her in her apartment. The problem with the Evolved has become just another hurdle to overcome in their relationship, another one being that he's one of them. For Hallis, it's been increasingly difficult to keep her mouth shut about the whole ordeal and his latest almost overnight at the office is quickly earning him a place on the sofa.

Dressed in her overcoat and usual high boots, she trudges into his office and almost slams the door behind her. "George, are you — " Then she spots the near empty bottle and frowns deeply. Though still very young, too young to legally imbibe, the woman has had her own share of problems with alcohol. " — Schanpps? You have to be kidding me. You skipped dinner with my family to drink that crap?"

Oh, man, if only where to sleep was the biggest thing George had to worry about. How about when he'll be able to, or whether he'll be around for long enough to sleep anywhere? This could all turn against him in a heartbeat if anyone caught on.

He recognizes the familiar voice right off, but has more trouble focusing his vision. "This?" The bottle is set down on the nearest flat surface with a resounding thunk. "This has gotten me through a lot of tight spots, so don't you go complaining about it. You know why I'm doing all this…"

"How are you going to be the next president if you're stuck in the bottom of a bottle? My family has a lot riding on you. You better not throw it all away because of this silly little problem." Leave it to Hallis to turn a very serious issue into something less important than what to wear to work the next day. Swiftly, she crosses the room and grabs the bottle, dropping it into the waste basket next to his desk. "Come on, you're not going to sleep in this office again tonight. I think I've been really patient with all of this, you said in the beginning you were going to make time for us."

As the bottle slides away from easy reach, George reaches out toward it in a panic, wincing as his wrist smacks into the corner instead. "Hey, I need that!" Not bad enough to go fishing through the garbage for it, though, because that would require actually getting up. Oh, but she knows about other motivations, too… "Us? Hallie, I told you not to bring Sierra back into this. I'd end up paying more attention to one of you than the other, and it just wouldn't be fair."

Frowning deeply, Hallis shoots a glare toward George and sets her jaw. "Us, meaning you and me, George," she practically hisses. Though she was willing to share the man for a few social outings and the like, her eyes quickly turned from blue to green whenever the thought of having to share him carnally with the other woman came up. "What do you mean bring her back into this? You haven't been sneaking around behind my back, have you? Is that where you spend all your time now? With her?" The pitch of her voice turns from angry to hysterical in less time it takes for Nicholas Cage to hotwire a car. Zero to Sixty.

Reaching for his hand, she grips it firmly and attempts to pull him up out of the chair. Not an easy feat for her since she's so much smaller than he is.

It's only momentum that drags George up onto his feet, and that same momentum sends him staggering forward before he finds something else to grab onto: a phone receiver, which has enough time to start error-beeping before he slams it back into place with a sharp clatter of molded plastic. "Of course I haven't," he mumbles, glancing back toward Hallis. Wavering on his feet, he reaches a hand out as if to rest it on her shoulder… but should he veer to the left or to the right? It's so difficult when his eyes insist on lying to him.

"God, you're so drunk you probably don't even know who I am anymore." Hallis grumbles as she moves underneath George's arm to help support him. Her arms slip easily around his waist as her body pressed up against his side, giving him a little something to lean against as she tries to help him stumble from behind the desk and to the door. "I have a car waiting outside, Georgie," she murmurs a little more tenderly now that she actually thinks she has him convinced to join her. "It'll take us home and then I can make you something to eat, maybe give you a massage or fix you a bath?" Yes, she's become quite the little domestic in regards to his needs as of late.

George rests one hand against Hallis's shoulders, waving the other dismissively in the air as he's led out to the car. "Whatever. Depends how I feel by the time we get there." And he isn't in a state of mind to make any guesses in advance. At least he's managed to work out that the one he can feel is the real one, and the other one is just a trick of the light.

Through the traffic and frequent police checks, it takes more than a half an hour for the car to travel the fifteen blocks to their apartment building. Requiring the assistance of the driver, Hallis tips him double what she normally would to have the man help George out of the car and into the building. Of course, Hallis takes his other side.

Once they are through the door and into their haven, Hallis turns on the lights to reveal the remains of the spoiled dinner on the dining room table. Six half filled glasses of red wine, the untouched rack of lamb, side dishes… A few red stains on the floor. Apparently the guests had a drink and either left of their own accord or were shuffled out by the mistress of the house. Whichever the case, the young woman simply leads George into the bedroom and piles him onto the bed.

As he wanders from one room to the next, George is the very picture of stream-of-consciousness, having recovered some of his energy while slumped against the car window and then the wall of the elevator car. "What smells good? You took the organs out before you baked, right?" He squints at the stains, trying unsuccessfully to recall how far along her cooking skills have come. Maybe she hired someone for the occasion. Oh, but now there's a mattress rushing toward him! "I'm not hungry any more," he murmurs, flopping down face-first and slowly rolling over onto one side.

"George, silly, there's no organs in rack of lamb. The biggest trick is to put the little paper hats on the ends of the bone to keep them from burning at the tip… but let's get you to bed…" Slowly, she leans over him and her green eyes peer into his. It takes just a little bit of fumbling before the jacket is tossed to the wayside and the young woman has her own thrown over in a pile on the floor beside it. "Tell me what you've been doing all day, besides drinking? Anything new and exciting happen at the office that you needed to toast over and over again?"

George reaches up, running his fingers through his hair, which doesn't do any good. "I've been lying to people. A lot. And not just the people without abilities, either… I had to let three of them with abilities get caught today, because that was the only way left to save a dozen more. Remind me again why I asked for this job?" With his image of Hallis still wavering from one side to the other and back again, he shuts his eyes tightly, relying on his sense of touch to reassure him that she's still there with him. The comforting tilt of the cushioning under her added weight.

"Half a dozen more in your office? Oh Georgie, you shouldn't have to protect all of them, you can't. It'll be the end of your career. What if someone finds out?" Hallis' hand runs through his hair in a soft, repeated caress. Rolling into the bed next to him, she winds her arm around his waist, urging him a little closer. "Come here, lay your head on me… Ssshhhh…" She whispers, lulling him into a more pliable state. "Why don't you let me do some work with you, hmm? I can file paperwork, I can probably learn how to type or something? Maybe even…I don't know… I could be useful for stress relief."

Hmm, maybe she's right. Trying to take the weight of the world on his shoulders is no good if it breaks him, right? "Hey, I like that last idea. Come closer and let's talk about it some more." Reaching up, George works on getting some more of those pesky clothes of hers out of the way. He hasn't known her to go in much for that sort of euphemism, but in his addled state, it doesn't occur to him to question it.

With a little bit of a giggle, Hallis is more than willing to let him help her out of the scant amount that she's actually wearing. His efforts are continuously interrupted though, by her lips pressing against his and little shoves to his body to keep him off of the side of the bed she's currently occupying. "No Georgie, you stay over there. This is my side." Funnily enough, it isn't normally. It's usually his side. Though, he's probably soused enough to not even notice the difference.

"Since when do we take sides?" he answers. Well, they do while they're sleeping, but that isn't what she has in mind. Right? Everything today has been so confusing. Drawing his hands back, George waits quietly, leaving it up to her to make the next move.

Rolling on top of George, Hallis wedges her knees tightly against his sides. Then gripping his hands, she holds them up over his head, giving him a sly little smile as she looks down at him. "I just don't want you to fall off the bed," she coos innocently, her green eyes widening just a little as she puckers her lips to give him 'that look.' "I don't want you to get hurt…"

Their interruption comes in the form of a soft groan from her side of the bed and a blood covered hand fumbles along the spread gripping it tightly. Apparently someone is on the other side and now trying to get up.

A crooked smile. "And since when have you hurt me?" She's in a very strange mood tonight. But she obviously still wants him, and that's what's more important right now. As he reaches his arms out to her again… that moaning sound registers somewhere in his consciousness, but he doesn't know what to make of it. Why is the bed shifting again? He really would fall off if she wasn't pinning him down.

Leaning down over him, Hallis' lips meet George's for a very passionate advance. Her fingernails dig lightly into his wrists, not enough to be painful, but enough to be quite uncomfortable. His attempts to reach out to her are answered with her wrestling his hands back against the pillow above his head. She's either stronger than she has been since the beginning of their relationship, or he's so drunk that he's actually lost the upper hand.

The hand gripping the white comforter loosens its hold and slides back down to wherever it came from, leaving a bloody red streak in its wake. But there's another groan and this time the low murmur of the man's name, "George?"

Another surprise from his young lover! Next thing he knows, she'll be pulling out some silk scarves and tying his wrists to the bedposts. Which wouldn't be the worst thing in the world… but hang on a minute, they're not alone in the apartment after all. "Hallie, there's a burglar or something! Let me up!" Again he struggles with her, this time trying to sit up or at least roll out from under her.

Being bucked off by the politician gives the young woman a bit of fevered excitement and as he moves toward the edge of the bed, she reaches for him and digs her nails into his chest. "Ignore it Georgie, I'll deal with it… you're drunk. Come back to bed…" She purrs lowly, trying to sound as inviting as she possibly can.

Slowly, a curly blonde head peeks up, one red hand gripping into bloody matted hair. Turning her blue eyes toward him, Hallis' eyebrows furrow confusedly and her dry lips part. "George, what are you doing?"

Minx or no, Hallis still needs defending, and even in his drunken state George has plenty of instinct left for that. Nor does this double image confuse him for so much as a second - surely it must be someone trying to take revenge for his earlier calculated actions. "Get back, it's an impostor!" He pushes the green-eyed young woman out of the way with one hand; with the other, he seizes upon something blunt and heavy on the nightstand, bringing it down toward the intruder's head.

The blue eyes never close as Hallis falls down onto the floor once again, staring up at George but not seeing him. The red pool on the carpet only grows wider as the green eyed woman peeks over the edge with a triumphant smirk. "Oh Georgie, I couldn't have done it better myself." Annie purrs, reaching for him again and taking the solid knick knack out of his hand. As she tackles him to the bed, she drops it onto Hallis' body with a sickly squishing sound. He's drunk, he probably won't even know what he did until he wakes up tomorrow.

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