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❛ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇʟᴀɴᴅs ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ᴅᴏʟᴏʀᴇs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ
ʟɪғᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ( ɪɴ ғᴀᴄᴛ, sʜᴇ
ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇ ) ꒱


❝ YOU'D BE SURPRISED AT WHAT
BRINGS PEOPLE TOGETHER ❞

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

"Gather 'round, children. Quickly now!" Reginald called to the siblings. "We don't have time for touching family reunions I'm afraid."

Dolores stared at her uncle with wide eyes as he stood proudly next to the older man. In this instance it's the grandfather of all repercussions. God damnit. She must be getting slow in her old age; Edward was right: he had told her that he'd known how the world would end. But how? As she looked around at the reluctantly listening adults (and one teen) she realized something that they all had in common: their birthday was October first, 1989.

Sure, her uncle's birth had seemed to be entirely planned as it coincided with her father's, but what if that was just a coincidence? He'd always said that he'd been a surprise baby— because her grandparents had only been expecting her father. So, that led her to one conclusion: "holy shit! You're one of them, aren't you?"

Reginald let out a disgruntled noise at being interrupted but Edward's smile only became wider. He tapped his nose knowingly before he placed his finger to his lips. The brunette considered the average-looking man with a different lens than she'd had her entire life: one in which her notoriously cryptic uncle had superpowers.

"I think the more pertinent question is why are you all playing with jars?" The conversation had continued around her as the girl's whole world perspective changed.

"They're invitations," Sloane answered. Diego hastily threw his jar over his shoulder.

Luther met his father's presence with a detached tone. "Nobody's playing."

"Luther and I are getting married," the blonde explained as she held out one of the party favors.

Reginald took it from her with a disappointed look on his face. "All of space and time is collapsing and you lot are planning a wedding?"

"Yeah, and, uh, the thing is, um, space is limited," Luther said as he stood. He went over to the older man and took the jar from him. "So it's kind of a per-plate situation so, you know. . ."

"Is this how I raised you? To fiddle while Rome burns?" Reginald questioned them fiercely.

Klaus hesitantly approached his father to remind him in a low voice: "remember what we talked about, Reg. Remember to breathe. . ."

"Quiet, I'm on a roll."

Sloane watched their interaction worriedly. "Dad, have you been taking your pills?"

"As a matter of fact, I haven't. And I can confirm that I've never felt better in my life. You thought you could dope me up and slow me down, take control of my affairs and squander my fortune. . ."

Taking advantage of Reginald's impromptu speech, Edward slipped away from the older man and towards his different-timeline niece. He bent to whisper into her ear: "how would you like to find a quiet spot to. . . discuss any questions that you may have?"

She flashed him a grateful look. "Oh, thank god."

✧✧✧

"Unlike your shrewd, unscrupulous father-in-law, I find it important to share nothing but the truth," Edward began. He stood in front of the brunette with his hands clasped behind his back as he met her gaze evenly. "While I may not be able to answer all of your questions straightforwardly, I find that purposefully hiding things only leads to resentment and distrust. So, ask away, my dear girl."

Dolores looked around at all the pink that surrounded them. "Why did you chose the White Buffalo Suite to have this talk?"

He chuckled. "Not the first question I thought you'd ask, but no matter. It's simply an important feature of this hotel in which many timeline-altering events have or will take place. I thought it would be fitting to make it noteworthy to us as well."

While she didn't fully believe him, she nodded with acceptance. "Next question: are you working with Reginald Hargreeves?"

"In a way. I notice you didn't say for— so your phrasing is correct. I can admit that his intelligence has yet to be rivaled, but he is a man of opportunity rather than talent, whereas I am the other way around. For the time being we make a decent enough pair to ensure that everyone who shares a relationship with a Hargreeves will make it out of this alive."

"So you do have a plan, then?"

"He would not be Reginald Hargreeves if he didn't," her uncle countered confidently. "Now, whether the plan will succeed is yet to be seen. It depends, in part, on the siblings' cooperation and how your father-in-law choses to take his next steps."

The girl sent him a quizzical look. "Yet to be seen. So. . . that has something to do with your powers, then? What are they, exactly?"

Edward nodded approvingly at her. "Yes, it does. I possess the gift of foresight, where I can see how each choice affects the direction of the timeline. Occasionally some paths have a higher probability than others of happening, which I can also predict. You know, I'd expected you to be more stunned at learning this information."

She shrugged. "After being surrounded by people with superpowers for decades I'm rather unimpressed by any new ones that come along." There was a moment of silence as Dolores chewed on her bottom lip while she considered a stray train of thought before she screwed up her courage to ask it: "what. . . in how many timelines does Five end our marriage due to my choice from the '60s?"

The older man's expression softened with unexpected sympathy— a reaction that did not sit very well with her and caused her stomach to clench with worry. "All of them."

"Oh. Are. . . there any in which we get back together permanently?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that."

Despite the vagueness of his answer, hope chased away the concern. She knew well enough that he couldn't tell her what was to happen, so maybe there was still a chance for them. "Okay. . . um, back to the apocalypse. . . This plan of Reginald's, does it have anything to do with Project Oblivion?"

He looked satisfyingly surprised that she knew about the existence of the mission. "Now, where did you hear that?"

"Pogo. Um, the Hargreeves' ex-butler. He's an anthropomorphic chimp who— in this timeline— does tattoos for the Mothers of Agony."

"Well, you'll be pleased to know that you are correct. Quite a bit rides on the success of whether or not Reginald can get his children on board with his plan."

Dolores let out a derisive snort. "Well, then, we're screwed. The Hargreeves would rather let the world end than— God forbid— work with their father."

Edward's lips quirked up with faint amusement. "You'd be surprised at what brings people together. Weddings and funerals usually do the trick— and one of those will be happening later this evening."

"So. . . can you tell me anything else about Project Oblivion? We got as much as Pogo knew but I know there's more. Maybe if I had all of the information I could help convince my in-laws to be. . . cooperative."

The older man sighed. "I'd love to but unfortunately, there's one problem: I can't see anything past a certain point."

The brunette's eyes narrowed with confusion. "What does that mean?"

"The space where Project Oblivion exists. . . it's outside any known timeline. Anything that goes on in that dimension is fair game, from success to failure. My powers only do so much and. . . once we enter the portal, I can't predict the outcome."

"Portal? What portal?"

Her uncle pointed to the Pachinko machine. "That portal. Although, I'd advise against going in there by yourself. While I don't know what lies beyond, I can assure you that it's not something which you can face alone."

✧✧✧

After her (mostly enlightening) talk with her last remaining family member, Dolores returned to the first floor of the hotel. On her way downstairs, she passed Reginald and Klaus; the fourth Hargreeves was on a long-winded rant about. . . something. She quickly brushed slipped past them to avoid being caught up in any more Hargreeves family drama. Once she'd arrived at the lobby, she made her way to the boutique area of the hotel. She spent a very peaceful half-hour sifting through the clothing racks in an effort to find something suitable for the wedding.

"Hey," Lila greeted her as the British's woman's search lead her to the same shop.

"Hey," she replied in an equally amiable tone.

There were a few more moments of silence that was only broken by the shiing of hangers sliding along the metal rack before the other woman attempted to have a conversation with her: "so. . . an apocalypse wedding. Probably brings back some memories, huh?"

"Mmm."

Unfortunately, Lila wasn't as easily deterred. "What was yours like?"

Dolores' gaze finally lifted from the clothes that she was sorting through to pin her with a flat look. "You really want to know?"

"Uh. . . that's why I'm asking?"

"Fine. The first time we got married, we didn't have an officiant. The second time we did, and that was pretty much the only thing that was different. There were no guests except anyone our minds conjured up. I didn't have a wedding dress and Five didn't have a tux. We were both dirty, smelly, starving and dehydrated because the biggest meal we'd had in weeks were a couple of cockroaches. I didn't walk down an aisle, we barely exchanged vows.

"By stroke of luck, Five did manage to find rings but they were encrusted with dirt and dented from surviving an apocalypse. We didn't have a honeymoon and only had one night of celebration that involved drinking wine that was decades old and tasted like vinegar. Needless to say, we didn't have a wedding cake and my husband went right back to work on the equations that he needed to solve in order to save what was now our family from meeting the fate that we were currently experiencing." She gave the other woman a sarcastic smile. "Any other brilliant questions, Lila?"

The other woman stared at her with wide eyes before she went back to the task at hand. "Jesus, I was just trying to make small talk. I thought you were supposed to be a romantic."

The brunette scoffed. "Yeah, and look where that got me. Trust me, Lila, weddings and happy endings aren't all they're cracked up to be: when you're finally even halfway content, that's when you have something to lose."

Lila didn't seem to be convinced by her reasoning. "Well. . . I guess what you're saying has some merit, seeing that you're older than me and all, but are you sure that you've given up on love entirely? What if you and Five get back together? Wouldn't you want to. . . I don't know, have a fresh start with him?"

"Maybe," Dolores answered noncommittally. "But I don't want to get my hopes up. We'll probably die before that happens."

"Say that we won't," she countered insistently. "Would you want to try to have a normal life? Did you. . . ever consider having a baby with him?"

The girl looked up from the dresses in front of her again. "Don't you hate him? Why are you even asking all these questions?"

The British woman shrugged uncomfortably. "I dunno. . . it's just, you're the only woman besides my mother who I've really been able to talk to."

Slightly surprised by her honesty, Dolores relented on her rather pessimistic outlook. She sighed. "The truth is, I've never been able to consider a future with Five. We've always been running from one apocalypse to another and the end of the world isn't exactly a great place to raise a kid. Even if I wanted to have children with him, the thought has always been improbable. He calls me ridiculous enough without knowing that I want things that are entirely out of reach."

"But. . . if you could have a baby with him— and you two were still together— would you?"

There was a pause before Dolores admitted quietly: ". . . yes."

Lila met her gaze over the clothing rack and something. . . changed between the two women: a bond of mutual respect was formed between them. While the feeling went unacknowledged, Lila finally settled on admitting quietly: "I think you'd make a good mum."

"Oh," the girl replied with surprise. "Um, thanks." Then, her expression brightened as she lifted a dress up for inspection. "I think I've found what I'm gonna wear!"

The other woman considered her option. "Black? To a wedding? Isn't that bad luck or something?"

She shrugged. "I don't believe in luck."

𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑
Dolores should have believed in luck

✧✧✧

The elevator doors slid open to reveal an ornately decorated banquet hall. Sparkling chandeliers hung from the ceiling while round tables took up most of the space. Long buffet tables stood off to one side while the stage was occupied by a full-blown D.J. booth, complete with large speakers. A dance floor was located off to the side of the room with spotlights that rotated slowly over the area.

"This place better be big enough," Klaus commented jokingly.

Allison sighed. "There better be an open bar."

"Hear hear, would-be murderer!" Dolores agreed brightly. She earned a dark, unamused look from the third Hargreeves.

"Hey, come on. It's for Luther. Let's perk up," Lila tried to brighten the mood. After Dolores' dismissiveness about cultural norms, she'd also decided to go with a sparkling, black dress. As her gaze fell on the setup, her mouth dropped open with awe. "Wow. . ."

The doors chimed again to reveal Luther and Viktor. The former was worrying over how his suit fit. "I don't know. Normally my tush looks good."

His brother made to reassure him but Allison cut off his reply: "ah, I see you've gone for the oversized button-down. Original."

"You do realize there's no paparazzi here, right?" Viktor countered easily.

His sister's eyes widened with mock surprise. "What? Dang it!"

Luther was quick to intervene as he attempted to soothe the brewing argument before it got worse. He made his siblings promise to get along for the duration of the wedding under the pretense that it was his day. As he calmed the waters, Five wandered over to the brunette with his hands in his pockets.

"You. . . look nice."

"Thanks," Dolores muttered, though she refused to look at him. Her gaze was fixed on the buffet at the other side of the room.

"Black is. . . an interesting color."

She inhaled deeply before she finally turned to the boy with a tight smile. "Look, Five, I appreciate the compliment but. . . I think it's just best if we keep our distance from each other for. . . the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. There's twelve people left on Earth; I don't have to be the one that you talk to. I just. . . need space, okay?"

The boy couldn't help the disappointment that flashed over his face but it was gone quickly. His features smoothed over into an unreadable emotion. "Okay. Fine. Sure. I can do that. Space. . ."

He took several steps away from her. Luckily, the elevator doors slid open again to save them from further awkwardness. This time, Sloane made her appearance in a gorgeous white dress that fit her figure flawlessly. A shy smile graced her lips and her eyes sparkled happily at Luther as she clutched the perfectly white bouquet of flowers. Not for the first— or last— time that night, Dolores felt the unpleasant feeling of jealousy worm its way into her stomach. 

✧✧✧

"Dearly beloved," Klaus began— dramatically, as was his fashion. "We're gathered here today for a good time, not a long time, so let's have a good time, huh? 'Cause the sun can't shine every day. Can I get an amen?"

"AMEN!" came the enthusiastic response from most of the party goers.

The Séance turned to the brunette. "Luther: do you be taking this banging hottie to be your lady?"

"I do."

Klaus turned to Sloane next. His voice had taken on a teary note as he spoke: "Sloane, do you promise to love and cherish this big, hairy bastard for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours?"

"Give or take a day!" Five called out. His brother shushed him quickly.

She nodded happily. "I'm gonna try."

"Well then. . ." He paused to wipe his eyes. "I'm sorry. I pronounce you married as shit! Viva la apocalypse!"

✧✧✧

Dolores stood off to the side of the dance floor with the rest of the Hargreeves siblings. She held a champagne glass in her hand as she watched Luther and Sloane share their first dance as husband and wife. The envy had not left her— and in fact it only grew stronger— as she watched how lovingly they gazed at each other and how closely they stood together. That had been her and Five, once.

She scoffed to herself. Who was she kidding? Five didn't dance. He hadn't even given her a traditional first dance; they'd just kissed and gone straight for the. . . evening activities. (Granted, she'd willingly gone along, but still.) They'd been happy just being together, even in the midst of tragedy. Now they were apart and miserable at the end of another world.

She sighed. "Weddings make me want to vomit."

Ben glanced over at her with a faint smirk. "I feel that. Can I get you a drink?"

Dolores gave him a surprised look but nodded. "Please."

He chuckled with companionable amusement and looped an arm around her shoulder. "Well, I do believe there's an unlimited selection of alcohol— or at least whatever the end of the world provides. What's your preference?"

"Something strong, for sure."

✧✧✧

Dolores sipped casually on her Bacardi Rum Punch that Ben had been surprisingly talented at making. She sat with the Sparrow and Allison at what was clearly the "loser's table;" they watched the rest of the partygoers with dark expressions and made sardonic comments about them.

"How long before we can leave?" Ben complained.

"After the speeches," Allison replied dully.

Dolores sighed. "I don't think that I can last that long. Allison, can you kill me again? Maybe I'll be dead long enough to skip to tomorrow morning." She earned a sarcastic smile in return for her request.

The Asian man's lips quirked into a wry grin. "You're a lot more pessimistic than I gave you credit for. Oh, also, have either of you seen dad?"

"Have a drink, Ben," the third Hargreeves encouraged him. "Relax. For once in your pathetic life."

"Yeah. For someone who's good at making cocktails you are quite the unexpected teetotaler," the brunette agreed.

He gave her a flat look. "I have no idea what that means."

She let out another sigh, this time in an exaggerated way. "That means that one out of every three people at this table is a nerd. If you don't see one, then it's probably you."

She patted him on the shoulder condescendingly to make sure that she got the point across. (What she didn't notice was that the man's gaze lingered where her hand had touched him and the confused expression that briefly took over his face.)

Allison let out a snort of laughter. "You know, you're a lot more tolerable when we're drinking."

"A lot of people are," Dolores agreed cheerfully.

The elevator chimed once more; this time, it opened to reveal Reginald and Edward. Silence fell over the assembled siblings as they walked slowly towards them.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Luther murmured loud enough for them to hear. (He had no opinion about the second man.)

Neither uninvited guest paid them any mind as they passed by their tables. Once they'd gotten a plates of food, complaints rose from his surrounding children as they looked for a table. They finally sat down alone at the far end of the setup.

"Who invited them?" Ben whined.

"Just sit here and suffer with us," Allison muttered.

The man didn't seem to hear her as he continued loudly: "I can't even get invited to a party and he's invited to this wedding? And the random dude gets to come too?"

"He's not a random dude!" Dolores said defensively. "He's my uncle from another timeline."

"He means nothing to me," Ben retorted dismissively.

The third Hargreeves rolled her eyes. "Wow, you really can't relax, can you? Ben? Chill."

The brunette studied the men from a safe distance and over the rim of her glass. Reginald met Klaus' gaze, to which the long-haired man gestured for him to smile. As he attempted the gesture, she grimaced. "Oh, that's just creepy. What on Earth is he trying to do, lure children to a sewer before he sucks out their life blood?"

She received no response as Allison finally stood and abandoned her post. Dolores ignored the other woman as she watched Lila and Diego approach the unwelcome guests. They both rose as Diego introduced them and shook Lila's hand. While she wondered what they could possibly be talking about, she wasn't nearly curious enough to go over and find out. Instead, her attention was soon taken up by Ben, who was repeatedly poking at her arm. "What?"

"What did Allison mean by 'chill?'"

✧✧✧

Dolores soon got involved with encouraging Ben to make. . . not-so-great life choices as she enthusiastically chanted "chug, chug, chug!" She joined him in that department by finishing off her current drink only to reach over and steal an untouched— and unsupervised— glass. Klaus eventually came over to sit with them. "Hey, Ben-ihana and Lolita. Hey, listen." He addressed the former: "I know we ain't exactly been best buds in this timeline or whatever but man, do I have a mission for you—"

"Boring!"

He looked over at the brunette, who was sticking her tongue out at him. "What?"

"Boring!" she repeated. "Klausy, take a breeaak!" She drawled out the last word. "You've worked so hard and this is 'sposed to be a party!"

Klaus waved a hand in front of his face. "Whew, Jellybean, what have you been drinkin'? Anyway, this'll only take a second—"

Unfortunately, he didn't get any farther as Ben burped in his face. Dolores cheered at how loud the noise was and high-fived the Asian man. "Twelve people," he mumbled.

"Huh?"

"There are only twelve people left," he explained as he held up a shrimp tail.

"Okay. . .?" Klaus wondered, not getting the point. "Drunk Ben clearly likes numbers and. . . shrimp."

"And you couldn't even invite me to your stupid bachelor party."

Dolores swallowed her drink too quickly and began to cough as it went down the wrong way. In a raspy voice, she cut in: "boo bachelor party! They're sexy. No, I mean. . . something like that. The thing where girls aren't allowed."

"Sorry, Jellybean. It wasn't my place to change tradition," Klaus consoled her. He turned back to Ben. "Have we finally flecked off bad Benny's hard candy shell?"

The girl let out a (quieter) burp of her own. "I'm boored. I'm gonna go find Five and bug him."

✧✧✧

Unfortunately, her impaired senses did not aid in her ability to locate her. . . whatever Five was to her at this point. She spent quite awhile stumbling around the empty expanse of lobby with a bottle of champagne— not exactly her drink of choice but it had been the easiest to grab from the buffet. Her aimless wanderings continued for some time until she bumped into Ben, who was leaving the banquet hall. Dimly, she registered Five's voice singing drunkenly from the room but her attention was quickly distracted by the Asian man's boisterous greeting.

"Dolly!" he said with unusual brightness as his arm looped around her shoulders. "'S good to see you. What've you been up to?"

She looked up in surprise at the man's usage of Five's nickname for her but was too drunk to figure out why she was so unsettled by it. Instead, she squirmed out of his grip and moved a few feet away from him. "Jus' lookin' for my. . . Five. 'Ave you seen him?"

"Pfft," the Sparrow scoffed. "I've been lookin' for you."

Dolores' expression became curious. "You have? Why?"

Ben's face softened to take on a sad appearance and he heaved a deep sigh. His shoulders slumped as his tone became regretful. "I. . . never gave my Dolly a chance. I know how much she liked me. . ." He sighed again. "I missed my chance. . ."

The brunette moved closer to pat him consolingly on his arm. "'S okay, Benny. We all have missed chances. 'S the second chances that are important to act on."

He gave her an appraising look that she missed as she was too absorbed with examining the bottle that she was holding. "You're like a. . . a second Dolly," he mused softly. "And you paid attention to me when no one else did. . ."

"Hmm?" the girl wondered as she caught the tail end of his murmuring. She glanced up at the Asian man with confusion. "What're you talkin' 'bout?"

"Dolly. . . how close are you to my Dolly?"

Her finger ran thoughtfully over the lip of her bottle. "Well. . . we are genetic copies of each other. . . I think that. . . 's just the ol' nature versus nurture argument. We inherently share the same personalities and feelings. . ."

Her answer made him brighten. "So. . . is there a chance that. . . you could have feelings for me?"

Unfortunately, her reaction was the opposite of what he'd been hoping for: she burst into loud, raucous laughter. He frowned as she held her stomach and took gasping breaths. "Oh, god that was funny. . . good one, Benny. Tell-tell another!" Stray giggles continued to escape her lips as she looked up at him pleadingly.

He huffed. "I wasn't joking. I mean, you and teenage mutant. . . guy aren't together anymore. Don' you wanna move on?"

Dolores shook her head firmly. "Nah. . . we may not be together now but I still love him. I couldn't ever love anybody else. Thas' why 'm lookin' for 'im, to. . . talk things out." She wiggled her eyebrows at him suggestively.

Ben grimaced at her insinuation. "Okay, ew. But. . . can't you just try? My Dolly loved me, I'm sure you could too—"

"But I'm not her," the brunette reminded him with such gentleness that it made his heart skip a beat. In a much more sober voice than before, she added: "I'm sorry, Ben."

The girl made to turn and head back into the banquet hall where Five was still crooning away to the lyrics of Come in, Mr. Lonely. A sudden, terrible fear made Ben's chest seize and caused his breath to shorten. What if Dolores was the only person who would ever love him? Who could ever love him? He didn't have much experience with the feeling— none of the Sparrows did (or had)— and that's what made him cling to what he knew with such fierce desperation. It was like he was a starving dog with a bone, holding on relentlessly because he knew nothing else.

He knew that his Dolores had cared about him— he'd even go as far to say that she'd loved him or admired him— and he wasn't willing to give that up. Marcus, Jayme, Alphonso, Christopher and Fei were all dead. Sloane was moving on. His own father seemed to prefer his children from the other timeline. Dolores— in whatever version of her she was— was the only relic he had left of his old life, of the way that things used to be.

Desperation to keep hold of the past made him act, and he'd never been one to hesitate. Perhaps it was because of what he'd known of his Dolly's liking of his power, this was what he did: he released one of his tentacles to curl it around the girl's waist and pull her flush against him.

Dolores immediately protested as the cobwebs of drunkenness cleared from her mind. "Ben! Ben, no— you're drunk— C'mon—" She squirmed against his hold but to no avail.

The Asian man looked down at her with a soft expression. He calmly lifted one hand to cup her face, to which she tried to turn away and out of his grasp— but there was only so far that she could go. "Dolly. . . come on. At least just try," he pleaded.

After she realized that her efforts to free herself weren't working, the brunette stopped moving and pinned her captor with a firm look. "Ben, let me go. You know I'm not the Dolores from your timeline. You're gonna regret this in the morning—mpph."

Now that she'd stayed still for long enough, Ben had taken the opportunity to lean forward to press his lips to hers. Dolores' eyes widened as he kissed her firmly. She wasn't sure what made her think of it but in those few moments, she came to two realizations.

𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒' 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘
[ 1 ] up until this point, the only man
she'd ever kissed had been Five

[ 2 ] she wished that it had stayed that way

A loud clatter made Ben finally pull away from her. When they turned to the source of the noise, the brunette's stomach dropped to her feet. Five had seen enough to make his own (incorrect) assumption.