Spoilers: Season 1
Summary: Erica tries to ignore her desire for companionship; nowadays, indulging in fantasies is the only safe way to have any. This is how Erica sees herself with Jack, Hobbes, Joe (her ex), Ryan and Dale (her former FBI partner).
Rated T for language, references to sexuality.

What It Would Be Like

When she was feeling strong, high on her position at the Bureau, she'd think of Jack. He needed her, thought she was stronger than him. She felt stronger around him. Their place was Jack's office, somewhere forbidden, where he would sit in despair, head resting in his hands, until she came to lift his spirits. She'd tell him everything was going to be alright, that his faith deserved another chance, and then she would pull him gently to his feet and kiss him. Her kiss would prove to him that they still had a reason to go on, and he would believe her with every ounce of his body. Then she would undress them both, and they'd make love for the first time on that chair, or on a couch, or right on his desk. It would be his first time, and it would always be amazing. With Jack, she was always in control.

When she was frustrated, upset with herself over the mistakes she'd made, she'd think of Kyle. She would create an argument in her head, and yell at him, because she knew he would yell back. She'd tell him all the reasons she hated him, and he would tell her all the reasons why she wasn't good enough, wasn't smart enough, wasn't strong enough to lead this resistance. Their place was Kyle's squalid apartment, somewhere foreign, where it didn't matter how messy their encounters would get. She would slap him, hard across the face, and he would kiss her, hard on the lips. They would tear each other's clothes off and fuck the pain away, and then afterward they would get along just fine...until the next time. The new found respect and understanding would only last until she was frustrated again. With Kyle, she was always fighting.

When she was feeling nostalgic, longing for the days before the arrival of the Visitors, before the responsibility of saving the world had been dropped in her lap, she would think of Joe. She would go back to the days before the blood test, before Joe stopped trusting her, before her family had fallen apart. Tyler was still a baby, and her career was still something she had to look forward to. Their place was their old bathroom before the re-model, somewhere familiar, and the shower they used to stand in together. Joe would apologize for doubting her, and then wrap his arms around her as the water poured over them, washing every bad memory away. If only he had believed her, then everything would have been okay. With Joe, she was always wishing.

When she was feeling curious, wondering what it was like for women like Valerie, she would think of Ryan. She would wonder if Valerie was just too blind to tell the difference, or if the entire body was really that convincing. She would imagine him being so, so good in bed, better than a human male because he'd been forced to study. Their place was Erica's bed, because it was safe, and no one else had been in it with her in so, so long. They would lie naked next to each other, and she would put her hand on his chest just to see her pale skin against his dark, like a ghost, or a dead girl against night. Then she would lie on her back and Ryan would teach her things about her body that no human ever could, because the Visitors knew more about the female anatomy than the women that were born with it. In the fantasy, he knew her mind better too. With Ryan, she could be submissive.

And when she was angry, really angry, she'd think of Dale. She would think about how he forced her to kill her best friend and partner, as if they were two separate entities, one that she lost and one that she'd never had in the first place. Before Anna's arrival, before the resistance, before his lie had been revealed, all her sexual fantasies had been about Dale. They'd been tainted by the truth, and their memory disturbed her, so all her Dale fantasies were now about violence. Their place was the warehouse, a place that had scarred her the night she found out. He would always charge, and she would always hurt him before he could hurt her. She would turn the guilt into self-righteousness, so she could repay him for the betrayal without the confusion and fear. With Dale, she always got her revenge.

Some fantasies made her feel better, and some made her feel worse, but no matter what she was feeling, no matter who she imagined herself with, loving or fighting, she still went to bed alone, and in the morning she could pretend she didn't use them for company. She had to ignore the fantasies when faced with their subjects, because a few of them actually had a chance of coming true. They all did, even Dale if the Visitors chose to rebuild his skin. But if they ever truly began then it would mean they could all truly end, and the only thing worse than the pain of longing was the pain of loss. As long as she had the power of prevention, Erica's own place would always be her own mind. Alone, but safe. The Visitors wouldn't get her there.