Welcome To The Harem

And Here I Sit by Samantha Brownlie
Summary: Alone, Diana Fowley awaits her fate. Amor Fati.

From: "Sam Brownlie" sbrownlie@hotmail.com
Date: Tue, 11 Jul 2000 19:27:43 PDT
Subject: 'And Here I Sit' by Samantha Brownlie
Source: direct

Title: And Here I Sit
Author: Samantha Brownlie
Spoilers: Biogenesis
Key Words: None.
Rating: PG
Summary: Alone, Diana Fowley awaits her fate.

Disclaimer: The usual - they're not mine, I don't earn any money from
writing about them, and I promise to give them back when I'm done.

Feedback to sbrownlie@hotmail.com

'And Here I Sit' (1/1)

I sit in my lonely apartment, surrounded by emptiness. I wait for
them to come, because they surely will. I have betrayed them to
save the only man I ever loved, a man who could once have been
mine but who now belongs to another. I deserve this end. If only I
had been stronger all those years ago, he would have been as loyal
to me as he is to her now - but I wasn't.

I close my eyes in a futile attempt to prevent the tears escaping
down my cheeks. Selfishly, I had hoped that we could destroy his
identity, make him different, make him join us. All I wanted - and
still want, hopelessly - was to be with him. I know now just how
impossible that is. I know now that the outrage I helped them
perpetrate would only ever have killed him or made him stronger.
It never would have sent him to my arms.

The tears are still coming, and I don't care enough to reach up and
brush them away. A seemingly simple movement - lift hand, twist
slightly, rub edge across face - but one that would take more
energy than I can spare right now. All that I have left is taken up by

Right now, I remember watching over them from the secret
surveillance room, absorbing my last moments of him as greedily
as any addict. I watched her holding him, talking to him, urging
him to his feet. He must have been weak, he must have been in
pain, but he seemed to take strength from her. If I hadn't realised it
before, I realised then that he would never have been mine.

It seemed to take an eternity for them to leave the building, an
eternity that couldn't be spared. I watched their progress on the
video screens, watched him weaving and stumbling and watched
her keep her arm around his waist and guide him. Tears fell then -
as bittersweet as the ones I shed now - as I watched her helping
him into her rented car and fastening his seatbelt. I found myself
unable to let go - not yet, not yet, my heart cried - and followed
them at a discreet distance.

My hands twist together in my lap, and I flinch at a sound from
outside my window. It is just I tree, I know, a tree that has rapped
and slapped against that window in the slightest breeze for the past
three years, but my nerves are on edge and my emotions are out of

Right now, she will be with him. She took him to his apartment, let
herself in with a key that I would have killed to be trusted with, and
bolted the door behind him. Knowing that exposure could do
nothing more or less than was already going to happen, I rang them
once, yesterday. She was curt and polite, acknowledging my help
with her words but not with her tone. She told me he was sleeping
and would be fine, that he would be asleep for some time yet.

I understood those words and I have not called back. I don't blame
her. I could have prevented so much of this - if I had called her
when I first found him and heard him calling for her; if I had
helped her earlier; if I had told her where he was; if I had not foiled
Skinner's attempt to set him free. I wish she understood that so
much of what she and I have done has been from the same
motivation, twisted though it might be on my part and purer on

I hear a footstep outside my apartment, and this time I know it
cannot be explained easily. I close my eyes.

I have given him the last gift I ever will, the gift of his life and his
integrity, and he will forever give his thanks to her. At least,
though, I have finally acted decently, have tried to live up to the
high standards he sets for himself and for those around him.

My door creaks open, and a shaft of light slices through the
darkness around me.

It is over.