Chapter Text
“Do you really have to do all of this again?”
The blonde-haired woman was a little fed up with being prodded and poked. It was one of those things she never much liked, even as a child, being forced to stand and be measured, half-naked, just as she was then, whilst some tailor held measures of tape along her arms and legs and right around her waist, just to be dressed up like a doll.
“Yes.”
The doctor replied, adjusting her shades as she continued to take measurements.
“I have to be sure nothing goes wrong. Even if that means weighing you every week.”
“Well, they do feed us the same slop here. I doubt I’ve gained any weight.”
The Boss was used to fairly tasteless food. She had eaten some pretty disgusting things for survival, but she couldn’t quite judge the worst.
“Yes, but you could have also lost weight.”
Her English accent was pleasant, but The Boss couldn’t quite figure out what city it was from.
“And that could be critical.”
The silver haired woman explained.
London?
No, she didn’t think so. Still, she sounded educated, somewhat posh. She supposed that her own accent was rather proper too. Years of formality.
The scratching of the pen on the paper, securely attached to a clipboard, was an infuriating sound, but The Boss almost sensed that the doctor delighted in it, the same way she delighted in a smooth-running operation, usually with herself at the helm.
The room itself was frigid, and the lights felt too bright, despite not many being switched on.
“So…”
The doctor glanced up at her.
“Do you ever get… insecure ? About…”
The Boss knew what she meant, automatically looking down at the scar.
“That doesn’t seem relevant.”
She answered.
“I’m asking not as a scientist, but as a fellow woman.”
The doctor clarified.
“I have plenty of scars.”
The Boss shrugged.
“Yes… I’ve seen them, but… doesn’t it make you-”
“Want to hide it?”
She finished the doctor’s question.
“I don’t know. It’s a reminder, like most scars. A reminder… that I was once a mother.”
There was a pause between them, but The Boss could see into her pale eyes through her lenses.
“I’m sorry. That was unprofessional of me.”
The doctor shook her head and went back to her data sheets, looking away from her.
“I don’t mind. You don’t make me feel like some lab rat, like the others. You don’t stare at me like that.”
The Boss smiled.
“Like what?”
The doctor asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Perhaps it’s just me, but I always think that men would prefer me without the scar. That would make me theirs, then. Wipe the slate of my past clean.”
The Boss shrugged.
“I think the scar makes you rather unique. And of course the rest of your body is perfect.”
The doctor told her, with a smile on her face.
“Your codename is interesting, Strangelove.”
The Boss tried to ignore her comment and dispel the faint redness on her cheeks.
“Thank you, Boss.”
Strangelove replied.
“You can call me Joy.”
Strangelove didn’t say anything for a moment, but finally stammered,
“N-No, I shouldn’t , really. I respect you too much.”
“I insist.”
Joy told her, with a rather firm tone.
“Alright then… Joy . You’re free to go for today.”
Strangelove sighed.
Joy put the rest of her clothes back on and returned to her room.
“Goodnight, Strangelove.”
She decided to say her name instead of her title.
“Goodnight, Joy.”
She reciprocated the farewell.
-
Strangelove couldn’t wait until it was time to see her again. The truth was, that she really did not need to see her every week, but what Joy didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her.
Joy.
Her name was what she gave. She didn’t need to talk, or even smile, she just had such a radiant glow to her, and Strangelove laughed at her own thought that only the testing in Nevada could have given her that glow.
She had a picture of her on her desk. She was a stunning woman, captured forever on sepia tone paper. Strangelove wondered if Joy thought of her. She had to be special to her. Maybe not as special as Joy was to herself, but perhaps they did think about each other’s company, as the only 2 women around, it was only natural, right?
She almost hated herself for thinking that way. For feeling the way she felt. It was like she was some schoolgirl, getting that feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever Joy was in sight. Feeling almost light headed when she looked her in the eyes, seeing past the dark wall of her sunglasses. Strangelove was ashamed of herself for having such thoughts alone at night, conjuring up the image of Joy standing there in practically nothing. Imagining her fingertips tracing the curves of her scar, when it was in reality just the covers of the bed, trying to find some sick pleasure in it, but this was deeper than anything she’d experienced before.
It was pure obsession; insanity like no other. Wishing every day to just gaze at her from afar, hear her soothing voice and breathe in that scent of hers that could only be described as pure stardust, feel her touch upon her own body, the same hands that had held many weapons and taken numerous lives, caressing her and just making her feel so, so good-
“Doctor?”
Joy walked in.
Strangelove urged her heart to stop pounding so rapidly.
“I decided to come here before you sent someone to summon me. Save you the hassle.”
She came over, already unzipping her jacket. She must have been thinking of her to be so considerate.
“Right… Thank you.”
Strangelove got out her sheets, avoiding watching her undress so her heart rate would go down.
She went through the routine: vitals, measurements, the usual sort.
“You know… I can’t stop thinking about what you said last time.”
Joy spoke and Strangelove couldn’t remember her own words. They weren’t as important as hers.
“You said my body was perfect. What did you mean by that?”
Joy asked.
“I mean…”
Strangelove had to think of the correct words to say.
“You’re really strong.”
“Yes, but I mean I wasn’t born with those skills. Same way you weren’t born knowing all of this science stuff.”
Joy didn’t agree, making Strangelove feel foolish.
“You still have such a feminine figure… I’m quite jealous. I’m much too flat.”
Strangelove’s gaze wandered to Joy’s breasts. They were rather nice, better than hers, despite being younger.
Joy realised where she was looking.
“Oh, I mean it’s more of a burden than a help. It did give me an advantage when I was younger, sure… I had to be seductive to get close to targets.”
Joy chuckled lightly.
“Don’t be so negative about your own image. Ideals are just that: ideals . There’s no perfect.”
Joy told her friend, patting her on the shoulder.
Strangelove felt her stomach do flips again.
“Besides, I think you’re a pretty girl, and obviously intelligent… if guys don’t like you, they’re the problem.”
Joy added, speaking honestly.
Strangelove shook her head, writing away at her notes.
“No, I’m just not too much fun around them… that’s why I’ve never been with one.”
“Oh? You’re a virgin?”
Joy sounded surprised at that.
“Not quite…”
Strangelovewhispered and kept writing to avoid the subject.
“I don’t believe you.”
Joy stated.
“No one? Not even in England?”
“Manchester was full of interesting things, but, no. I’m just not a very social person.”
Strangelove admitted.
“Manchester? You didn’t seem like you were from there.”
Joy’s reaction made Strangelove raise an eyebrow.
“What? Do I sound too posh?”
She asked, acting a little offended.
“I guess.”
Joy told her, not really apologetic for it.
“I mean, I do put it on a bit… makes me seem smarter, innit?”
Strangelove relaxed her formal tone, slipping back into the way people talked in her home city.
“Is it nice there? I lived in Montana, it was pretty boring.”
Joy was really intrigued and it made the doctor’s heart swell. It was like they were on a date, here, in such a strange situation.
“It’s a far cry from Montana, I’m sure.”
Strangelove laughed.
“Full of so many different people. I lived in Altrincham, which was a rather posh place, but not so bad, really. I didn’t have many friends… besides I couldn’t go out much anyway, my skin would just burn up…though, I guess it was mostly poor weather.”
It was odd to reminisce about Manchester. She wasn’t sure what she felt about the place, even now, but she supposed she represented it well.
“The symbol of the city is a worker bee, since it was full of factories. I’m not sure if it’s flattering or patronising to compare us to such creatures… hardworking, but a hivemind… guess that’s how life is as a working class person, even today.”
She sighed, then turned back around to face Joy.
“Sorry, I went on a bit there, didn’t I?”
She nervously smiled.
“No, I think it’s an interesting point… as a soldier, you are like a bee, I suppose. Following orders as part of your duty to the hive.”
The way Joy had put it gave it an odd romanticism.
“You’d be Queen Bee, though, wouldn’t you?”
Strangelove spoke out loud, not fully processing it in her head before she said it.
“Perhaps. But then there’s always the beekeeper.”
Joy smirked, pleased at her own clever reply. Strangelove thought she looked so human as she made that expression. So much more than the stone-faced soldier she had expected.
Strangelove came closer to examine her, legs almost moving on their own.
The doctor always felt such a rush when she remembered how Joy had a beauty mark on her face, just like she did, albeit in another place. It was evidence, pure, hard data, to prove that they were really star-crossed lovers.
Strangelove leaned closer.
“Joy… can I ask you something?”
The blonde woman nodded.
“Do you think love is real?"
Strangelove found the courage to speak.
"Yes."
Joy nodded again.
Strangelove took a leap of faith, planting her lips on Joy’s, reaching up to the amazing woman before her, grasping the side of her face to do so. It was like magic, as if she was floating up in space, right amongst the stars.
Then she came crashing down to earth as The Boss pushed her away.
“What the hell was that?!”
The Boss’ face was turning red. Strangelove breathed heavily, full of adrenaline.
“I… You said you believed in love.”
Strangelove reminded her.
“Yes, but you’re different!”
She tried to argue and it was like a dagger through the doctor’s heart.
“Why?”
Strangelove asked, tears welling up in her eyes behind her shades.
“We’re women, that’s why!”
The Boss stepped back from her.
“So? We’re kindred spirits! Both of us are women who dared to defy the others-”
Strangelove reached out to her.
“I should go.”
The Boss didn’t look her in the eye anymore.
“No! Wait, Joy!”
Strangelove grasped her arm after she turned to leave, but it was useless against her strength.
Strangelove was left standing alone, crying quietly.
Her Joy had left.