"Hello Zulu. How are you feeling?"

"Did I fall asleep?"

"For a little while."

Zulu frowned slightly. "Shall I go now?"

I wish you wouldn't. Topher blinked. Zulu blinked back at him.

"Shall... shall I go now?" Zulu repeated.

"I... If you like," said Topher. "Sure... go ahead... run along..."

"Topher, I've been looking at yesterday's back-up, did you double check the..." Ivy trailed off, looking from Zulu, to Topher, and back to Zulu again. "Zulu? Are you alright?"

"Shall I go now?"

Ivy's flicked a glance at Topher again. "If you like," she told Zulu. "Go and have a massage."

Zulu's vacant expression softened into a smile. "A massage would be relaxing."

"Yes it would," Ivy agreed. She watched as Zulu turned and padded out of the imprint room and down the stairs, nodding hello to Sierra and Victor as she went. Ivy turned her attention to Topher. His expression – punch-drunk – resembled a doll so closely it was amusing. "Would you like a treatment, Topher?"

Topher shook his head and his eyes cleared. He threw her a look of pure contempt. "Yeah," he snorted. "Don't you wish?"

Ivy rolled her eyes at him and shoved a sheaf of papers into his hands. "Double check your back-ups, Mr Genius," she snapped.

Topher crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue at her retreating back before tossing the papers aside. Double-check the back-ups. Pffft. He knew she didn't like him much. He even knew why. She didn't know he knew, but he knew. She thought she was sooooo smart; she could reprogram the entire system so it worked even faster, with even more efficiency, but she didn't respect the tech, not one bit. Nor did she respect the fine art that was mixing a range of personality traits and skills and emotions that went into an imprint which was as much creative talent as it was logical genius. Mr Genius. Ivy had that part right. Topher chose to ignore the sarcasm.

He turned and tapped on a keyboard, making the last few adjustments for his next imprint before popping the wedge and laying it next to the chair. As he turned, he caught sight of Zulu drifting across the lower floor. Leaning against the banister, he watched as Zulu skirted a group of dolls performing tai chi before mounting a couple of steps to the massage rooms, tugging her tank-top over her head as she went. She turned to close the door and Topher averted his eyes, blushing, but not before he caught sight of Zulu's small breasts.

A soft hand settled on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. "Goddammnit, Ivy, don't sneak up on me like...uhhhhh" he trailed off as he turned. "Echo..." he managed. "Ahhh... would you like a treatment?"

"You like Zulu," Echo told him dreamily.

"Sure I do, everyone likes Zulu... everyone likes everyone here... bona fide love-in going on in the Dollhouse..."

"You love Zulu?"

"No, I don't love Zulu," said Topher, running his fingers through his hair. He gestured at the chair. "Now. Echo. Would you like a treatment?" He swallowed nervously, as though a tabla rasa doll would disobey a directive and refuse a treatment.

Echo smiled sweetly. "Yes please. I enjoy my treatments."

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

January 27. Topher's birthday.

He picked through his private collection until he found 'Ruth'. Sierra had been good fun to pal around with last couple of years, but apart from the fact she was on assignment at the moment, and apart from the 'been there, done that' aspect, there was the Victor thing as well.

With the House mostly shut-down and the dolls on rest, he made his usual show of questioning the head of security about the idle actives and his annual diagnostic checks. But he already knew which doll he wanted. Zulu was one of the newest and under-utilised dolls anyway, and Topher was confused as to why Adelle had recruited her in the first place (or what she'd done to deserve it. He'd asked Adelle once only to earn a coolly amused look and a tart comment on the subject of 'need to know'.)

Not that he bothered to notice, normally, but Topher could see the point of handsome Victor and beautiful Echo, exotic Sierra and voluptuous November, athletic Mike and sexy Tango. But Zulu was short and slight, her figure boyish at best, and her skin was waxen pale. Her hair was pretty enough. If you liked that kind of thing: a thick dark-almost-black sheaf. And her eyes too, all violety-blue... once again, if you liked that kind of thing.

Topher tapped the wedge against his chin. For a moment he considered making a few minor last-minute adjustments... like the opposite of parts of the Claire Saunders imprint he'd made for Whiskey... like, just a few pheromone receptor adjustments and perhaps a partiality towards scruffy blond geeks...

"Oh, shut up, Topher," he muttered to himself, setting the wedge aside without fiddling with Ruth one damned bit.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

As the whining noise wound down and the chair righted itself, Ruth turned Zulu's indigo eyes on Topher.

"Please tell me you upgraded from that whack PSV system already?" She drawled.

"Of course!" He told her. "And I hacked the alpha-test version of Dean Hall's latest creation: boy needs to put up a few hundred more firewalls..."

"Word. Beer in the fridge, pizza on the way?"

"Totes, dude! Hey, you wanna play fatal laser tag first, though?"

Ruth rolled her eyes. "Am I going to have to resuscitate you again, Topher, because I swear you took that hit on purpose last time..."

"Nuh-uh! As if I would let you win..."

"Good, because I am so not giving you mouth-to-mouth, you'll have to call your big ole man-oh-color for that, dude, do you ever brush your teeth? You know, like with actual toothpaste?"

Probably should have tweaked the pheromone receptors at the very least, Topher thought. Turning to the fridge, he cupped his hands over his mouth and puffed a breath into them. Phew, she's right.

"I'm just gonna... use the little boys room," he called out.

"Floss too, Toph, you're going down."

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Topher closed his eyes. I wish... I wish... I wish I knew what to wish for, he thought, opening his eyes and blowing out the candles.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

January 27.

"Oh, don't even bother giving me that 'annual diagnostic exterior compost' mumbo jumbo", snapped Boyd, holding up one hand as Topher opened his mouth. "Just tell me who you want."

"Actually, it's the annual anterior insular cortex diagnostic, not that I'd expect you to understand..." he trailed off as he caught Boyd's thunderous expression. "Uh... Zulu. Zulu hasn't been out lately."

"Whatever..." Boyd tapped his password into Topher's computer. "Happy Birthday, Topher."

"And thank you, Mr Head of Security," Topher grinned and snapped off a jaunty salute.

Boyd shook his head and stalked away. "How to make friends and influence people..." he muttered.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Ruth lifted her head and grinned at Topher. Her first words were: "Fatal laser tag!"

"No!" Said Topher, leaning over absently to switch off the machinery. "Absolutely not."

"Oh, come on," moaned Ruth, slouching out of the chair. She pouted and Topher blinked. That's new, he thought. "Double or nothing."

"No!" Repeated Topher. "I'm not going through that whole defibrillator business again, Adelle nearly skinned me alive for letting one of the... one of my friends nearly die on her premises!"

Okay, focus Topher, you nearly called her 'one of the dolls' to her face!

"What if I promise to kill you first?"

Topher grinned at that. "No Ruth," he said gently. "We will not be killing each other today."

"Then what are we going to be doing?"

Topher's grin widened. "Come and see this game I invented! It was a computer virus – very dangerous and just a tiny bit alive – but have a look at this..."

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Ruth spun around and jumped, lobbing the ball over Topher's head with a flick of her wrist and landing it perfectly within the square they'd chalked on the wall.

"Booyah! Nothin' but brick!" Ruth whooped. She plucked the ball from the air and tucked it under her arm, using her free hand to push a lock of hair out of her eyes. Most of it she'd yanked back into a scruffy ponytail.

"Yeah, remind me to scrub that off before Adelle sees it," Topher said, eyeing their smeared basketball 'ring'. "Or worse – Boyd."

"How come the sleepies don't get a real basketball ring?" Ruth asked, dribbling the ball idly between her legs.

"Dunno." Topher shrugged. "Not a very restful activity, I guess."

Ruth rolled her eyes. "No bee-ball, no pool table, no pin-ball machines? Man, don't they get to do anything interesting?"

"They do tai chi," said Topher, earning himself another eye-roll. "They have massages, and art class... oh hey, there's a pool, you wanna go for a dip?"

Ruth raised an eyebrow and launched the basketball at him. "I didn't bring my suit," she said with a smirk.

"Oh, that's cool, I'll find you one in the wardrobes." I'm sure Zulu will have one that fits, he thought ruefully. "Come on, you can just borrow a suit." He jogged off, bouncing the basketball off the walls as he went.

"Borrow a suit," Ruth muttered, following him down a hallway. "Not exactly what I had in mind..."

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

"Come on, Toph," Ruth yelled. "Are you getting wet or not?"

Topher emerged from the changing room wearing a t-shirt, a pair of baggy sweats and a reluctant grimace.

"You can't swim in those!" Ruth chortled. "Come on, get your gear off."

Topher plucked at the sweats, feeling his face beginning to heat up.

"Oh, come on, you ain't got nothing I haven't seen before, dude. Look, this thing leaves nothing to the imagination and I'm not blushing like a school-girl." She stood dripping in the water and executed a graceful spin, sending water droplets flying in all directions. Zulu's racer-back swim-suit was almost modest by current standards, but still skin-tight and moulded to every tiny curve of her body.

And you ain't got nothing I haven't seen before either, Topher though, studiously trying to forget the communal co-ed showers, and other times he'd seen water streaming off Zulu's skin. It's Ruth, you're Ruth, you're not Zulu and wasn't that the point of this exercise?

Blushing still, Topher dragged his t-shirt over his head and stepped out of the sweats to reveal a pair of garish, slightly-too-large board shorts cinched tight around his bony hips with the draw-string. He hitched them up, embarrassed, as Ruth sniggered.

"I didn't bring my suit either," he muttered. "And Victor is a little... huskier than I am, I guess."

"On the other hand, have you been working out?"

Topher crossed his arms over his chest and slipped his palms over the small bumps of his biceps. "They have a gym here," he admitted sheepishly. "I use it. Occasionally."

Ruth nodded and shrugged. "You... ahhh. Look good?" She offered.

"Really?"

"Since when do you care what I think anyway?"

Topher snorted and looked away. "Since – like – never." He backed up a couple of steps and took a run up. "Cannon-ball!" He yelled, tucking his knees into his chest. Ruth squealed and held up her hands as Topher's well-placed, minutely-calculated wave washed over her.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

"So, no pool ponies? No sun-lounge?"

"What sun?"

"Good point," said Ruth, flipping onto her stomach and breast-stroking through the water for a ways before turning onto her back and lazily back-stroking back to where Topher was bobbing up and down. "Water polo? Diving platform?"

"Bit dangerous."

"Water polo or diving?"

"Both, from what I've heard. Break your neck doing either. Don't want a scratch on the moichendoice." Topher grinned.

"So what do they use the pool for?"

"Floating serenely," Topher suggested. "Swimming laps so they can 'be their best'." He held up his hands to make finger quotes.

"Boooooorrrriiiiinnnnnng." But Ruth smiled and stretched into a star shape, floating only as long as she filled her lungs. As she breathed out, she began to sink. "Well, I suck at the floating serenely part."

"You're negatively buoyant, you don't have anywhere near enough bodily adipose tissue to float properly," said Topher.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Uh, you're welcome?"

Ruth poked her tongue out. "Do they ever get to have any fun?"

"Umm. I like to think they have some fun on their assignments," Topher said.

"Yeah, and then you wipe their minds completely and they never even remember what happened! It's like the complete opposite of 'Total Recall'! Where's the fun in that?"

"I dunno, Ruthie," Topher said quietly. "But hey, I never get to have any fun either so..."

"Except when I'm here."

"Except when you're here," Topher agreed aiming pistol-fingers at her.

Ruth smiled. "Anyway," she said, flicking water at him. "Don't tell me you're not having fun dicking around with all that tech! You're in freaking geekazoid heaven!"

Topher held up both hands and grinned. "Guilty as charged."

Ruth tipped back and floated again. "I wish I had your job, dude," she said loudly, her ears filled with water. "Hey..." she flipped and righted herself in the waist-deep shallow end. "Do you reckon they'd ditch that Ivy chick? I could be your assistant, how cool would that be?!"

Topher looked uncomfortable. "Nah, you don't want my job," he told her. "Seriously, you're better off..." for a moment he drew a complete blank. What had he imprinted as Ruth's day job?

"Working at the comic book store?" She rolled her eyes and twirled one finger in the air. "Woo-hoo. Watching Captain Sweatpants put his grubby mitts all over the new releases and every second loser nerd – no offense..."

"None taken..."

"...Staring at my almost-non-existent rack." She cupped her breasts in her hands. "Yeah. Great." She sighed. "I'm gonna go dry off and call for pizza... I can do that, right?"

"Lift the receiver and press zero for an outside line," Topher said absently.

"You coming?"

Topher resisted the urge to glance at his crotch which – thanks to replaying Ruth's dripping hands lifting to mould around her tea-cup sized breasts in slow motion over and over in his mind – was now throbbing and most likely to be extremely obvious in a pair of sagging wet board shorts.

"I'll catch you up," he managed weakly.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

January 27.

"Five," said Ruth, launching the football across to Topher.

Topher screwed up his face and shook his head, catching the pass. "I'm not really that familiar with TOS, stick with TNS."

"TNS?! That gives me almost no scope! That's what? Three to choose from?"

Topher shrugged and tossed the ball back. "Well, what about you?" Ruth asked.

"Eleven."

"Seriously?! Floppy haired, nerdy idiot bouncing around with a stupid grin on his face..."

"Trying not to be offended here..."

"Yeah, sorry, should have seen the resemblance."

"At least he's having a bit of fun with it," said Topher. "At least he's not all morose..."

"What you call morose, some people call sexy and brooding."

Topher snorted. "Nine for you then?"

Ruth winked and popped her thumbs in the air. "Every time," she agreed. "Okay – companions... and if you say Leela I'll put this thing through your head!" She held up the football and aimed it like a javelin.

Topher laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, you gotta love strategically placed animal skins..."

"I don't gotta love it," retorted Ruth, firing the football across the void. "Anyway, you were the one who made the 'no old stuff' rule."

Topher ducked as the football whistled over his head, ruffling his hair. He chuckled and jogged to retrieve it. "New companions then," he agreed. He tossed the ball. "You first."

"Okay, not Rose..."

"Blonde, slack-jawed-yokel-expression on her face 90% of the time, right with you there."

"Not Martha."

"Smart, ambitious, brave... what's not to like?"

"Yeah, and she spent the whole time mooning over a man who was clearly never getting over his ex." Ruth rolled her eyes. "I liked Donna."

"Reasons?"

"For starters, she didn't look like a supermodel..."

"No strategically placed animal skins..."

"Hell no!" Said Ruth, laughing and lobbing the ball. "She was compassionate and brave, she didn't take any shit from the Doctor... she certainly wasn't in love with him!"

"Sound reasoning," Topher nodded. "Amy?"

"Slappable," came the tart response.

"Agreed. Jack?"

"Horn-dog," said Ruth. "And also slappable."

"He'd probably enjoy that..."

"Lol, you're such a comedian," said Ruth, rolling her eyes.

"Rory."

"Sweet but... devoted to Amy so also..."

"Slappable," Topher finished for her. "My turn."

"Let me guess..."

"River Song," said Topher.

"Reasons?"

"She's a genius. She's a psychopath."

"She's your perfect woman..."

"She has an ass that won't quit..."

"Topher!"

"Well, she does! When she said 'I'm wearing nothing but jodhpurs' I'm like 'yeah, baby, bring it on!'"

"Not sound reasoning, Mr Brink."

"Your reasoning for Nine was what? Brooding and sexy? You're the one who needs her head checked!"

"Why don't you just put me in the chair and offer me a treatment then!" Ruth mugged at him, dropping her arms to her sides, flopping her head to one side and rolling her eyes back like a zombie.

Topher's expression darkened. "That's not funny, Ruthie."

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Ruth ran her hands over the clothes as she drifted up one aisle and down another. "This is awesome!" She called through the racks. "How come you never brought me down here before."

"Because it's, like, just clothes?" Said Topher.

"OMG, what the hell is this?!" Ruth squealed. She yanked out one of Echo's outfits and held it up against her body.

Topher winced. "Dominatrix..." he managed. He bared his teeth at her. "Suits you?"

Ruth rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you wish... hey, this is gorgeous..." she pulled out a wedding gown. "One of the sleepies had to get married?"

"A couple of times, in her case. She also almost got killed," said Topher, taking the gown back and burying it among Echo's other clothes.

"Urgh, some of this stuff's a bit tame..." she was pawing through November's discarded wardrobe. She held up a sundress. "Not to mention enormous!"

"Not everyone is built like a whippet..."

"Hey, this looks like it might fit..."

"No, wait... Ruth!"

"This chick doesn't get out much, does she?"

Topher pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. "This was such a bad idea," he moaned to himself.

"'Zulu' not very popular, then?" Asked Ruth, flicking through the one small clothes rack Zulu required for her few engagements. "This is cute, though." She immediately shrugged out of her sweater and leggings as Topher blushed and turned his back.

"Ruth, seriously..."

"You can look now."

Topher turned back slowly.

"Ta dah," said Ruth softly, turning in a slow circle, pivoting on the balls of her bare feet. The knee-length dress was a simple, soft jersey material that matched her eyes exactly. It flared slightly as she spun. "You got pumps to go with this?" She asked.

"Probably," Topher murmured. He watched, transfixed, as Ruth hunkered down on her haunches and started rummaging through the small pile of shoes in the rack.

"There doesn't seem to be... oh, these'll do." She pulled out a pair of ballet-flats made of soft black leather and yanked them over her small feet. She grinned and executed a mock curtsy. "Do I look pretty, Topher?"

"Very pretty," Topher managed. "Look, can we get out of here before Adelle finds you messing with this stuff?" He gestured frantically and his eyes opened wide as Ruth grabbed his hand and started dragging him along.

"Come on!" She said.

Oh, why did I have to make you more of a girl? Topher thought, struggling to keep up with her.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Topher stirred and woke, groaning as he eased his neck into its rightful position after lolling for god knew how many hours against the back of the sofa. He rubbing one hand through his hair absently... then froze and looked down.

Ruth's head was pillowed in his lap, her hair spilling everywhere as her tiny chest rose and fell gently as she slept. Slowly, he reached down and brushed a lock of hair from her face, and she smiled in her sleep. Topher's face echoed the expression sadly and looked at his watch.

"Jesus," he murmured, shaking Ruth gently. "Ruth. Ruthie? Time to go home."

"Mmmm," she murmured, turning over and smiling sleepily up at him. "Can't I just stay here, it's so comfortable."

Topher sighed as her eyes slipped shut again. "Come on," he said, lifting her gently off his lap. "Go get changed, I'll see you out."

When she'd returned, dressed once again in the shapeless sweater, leggings and sneakers, Topher had powered up the chair.

"Would you like a treatment?" He asked her.

The curtain fell over Ruth's eyes. "Yes," she said.

He gestured to the chair and watched as she climbed on. His chest ached.

"Topher," she said, as his hand hovered over the switch. "After my treatment, can we play flying chess?"

"Of course," he told her.

He flicked the switch and turned away as her body jerked and the last 24 hours was erased.

The chair whined and righted itself.

"Hello Zulu. How are you feeling?"

"Did I fall asleep?"

"For a little while." You sure did. So did I.

"Shall I go now?"

"If you like."

Zulu smiled mildly and slid gracefully from the chair. As she started out towards the door, Topher remembered something.

"Zulu!" He called. She turned back, her blank face a question mark. "The shoes, and the sweater. Leave them here. They don't belong to you."

Without question, Zulu dragged the sweater over her head and stepped out of the shoes, padding off in the usual doll uniform of leggings and tank top. Topher swore softly under his breath and popped the Ruth3.0 wedge out of the chair. He gripped it hard for a moment, resisting the urge to smash it against the nearest wall.

"Hey, Topher, blood pressure's looking a little high there," said Ivy. "Was that Zulu I just saw?"

"Annual diagnostic," Topher managed without looking up.

Ivy raised an eyebrow and held out one of the cardboard coffee cups she was carrying like a peace-offering. "Caffeine?"

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

January 27.

Ruth raised her head slowly and peered at Topher from her place on the chair. "Is that a new sweater-vest?" She asked.

Topher ran his palms down the front of his new clothes and looked carefully at her. "Uh, not exactly," he told her.

Ruth clambered down from the chair and padded over for a closer look. "No..." she said.

"It's a waistcoat."

"It is," she breathed. "It's got actual buttons!" She touched each one. "And... pinstripes?" She pressed her palm against his chest and stepped back a little, looking down. "Matching trousers?!" She plucked at fine silk. "New shirt?" She moved back even further and her eye widened as she reached up to touch his hair. "Did you get a haircut?!"

"Yeah, I washed it, too." Topher ran his fingers through his hair. It felt silky and strange, and his scalp tingled. "You like?"

"I... uh..." Ruth seemed to be struggling for words. "I don't hate it," she said eventually.

"Also," said Topher. "I've got..." he grabbed a coat-hanger holding Zulu's indigo jersey dress.

Ruth grinned and twirled her fingers at him. Turning his back, Topher smiled to himself.

Modesty adjustment... successful.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Leading Ruth into the kitchen, Topher nodded to the single chef left on duty.

"Mr Brink," the chef murmured, nodding back. He gestured towards the back of the kitchen where the end of the stainless steel bench had been spread with a linen table-cloth and topped with candles, and a banquet of seafood, stir-fried vegetables dripping with spicy sauce, delicately marinated meats, fragrant rices, salads, cheeses and fruits.

"Wow," breathed Ruth. "The sleepies eat like this all the time?!"

Topher caught the chef's raised eyebrow at Ruth's words and shook his head in the man's direction. "Pretty much," he told Ruth. "I thought you might like something other than pizza. For a change."

Ruth tilted her head to one side. "Is this, like, a date?"

"Uh... it... could be?" Said Topher. He tugged at the collar of his new shirt as though it was choking him, in spite of the fact that he'd left the top button open and wasn't wearing a tie. "Do you... do you want it to be? A date?"

"I..." Ruth stopped and thought about it for a moment. "Do you?"

"I asked first."

They stared each other down for a moment. Ruth made a fist. "One... two... three... shoot!" She held up the hand in the shape of a lizard. Topher gave the Vulcan salute.

"Dammnit!" Topher muttered.

"Lizard poisons Spock," Ruth told him with a shrug.

"Okay, fine," said Topher, running his fingers through his hair. His clean hair. "Yes. I would like this to be a date."

Ruth smiled sweetly. "Good," she said, smoothing her skirts as she sat down. She lifted her bottom slightly as the chef tucked the chair underneath her, for all the world as though she ate in silver service five-star luxury at every meal. "So would I."

They picked through each of the dishes, tasting each new flavour and dunking the lobster pieces in the spicy sauce.

"You don't like it?" Topher asked eventually.

"No, I do, I do," Ruth assured him. "But... wouldn't it be better if it could all just go on a pizza?"

Topher nodded solemnly. "Definitely," he agreed. "My man?" He called to the chef. "Can you take that, that, that and... that, and stick it on a pizza base?" He pointed out the various meats, vegetables and cheeses he wanted.

"Of course," said the chef.

"Thanks, dude, send it up when it's ready." He turned to Ruth. "C'mon. Gotta show you something."

In the main chamber, Ruth followed Topher's gaze up onto the wall and gasped. "The sleepies got a bee-ball ring?!" She squealed.

"No: we got a bee-ball ring," Topher corrected. "Boyd helped me put it up..." he noted Ruth's slightly bemused look. "My 'man-oh-color'?"

"Oh right, Boyd." Ruth nodded.

"But just for tonight, I gotta take it down tomorrow."

"Basketball too exciting for the sleepies?"

"Yeah, it would be, like, in slow motion anyway, totally boring to watch. Here..." He tossed her a pair of sneakers, the ones she usually wore as Ruth, and retrieved the basketball from his office while she tugged them on.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Topher bounced the ball slowly, weaving from side to side like a cobra, his eyes flicking from the ring, to Ruth, back to the ring again.

"The scores are all tied up," Ruth intoned gravely. "The next shot could make or break the career of Christopher Brink..."

"Seriously, Ruth," Topher moaned at the mention of his full name.

"A hush falls on the stadium..." she paused and cocked a dramatic ear to the silence of the House. "Brink lines it up... and Ruth Dahl makes her move!" Ruth darted forward, snatching at the ball and finding her arms full of nothing but thin air as Topher dodged away. Spinning on one toe, her sneaker squealing on the polished wood, Ruth sprinted across the floor to cut Topher off mid lay-up, throwing herself in front of him.

Topher pulled up short to avoid knocking her over. He weaved from side to side again, looking for a way through Ruth's flailing arms, eventually growing still and holding the ball aloft, well out of her reach. He grinned as she jumped, trying to knock it out of his hands.

"Oh, wipe that smile off your face," she muttered, standing on tippy-toes.

"Make me!"

Ruth paused and looked up into Topher's hazel eyes. Her hands fluttered down to rest on his shoulders as she lifted her face, tilting her head to the side as his eyes softened and he starting lowering his head to hers. His arms dropped. The ball bounced...

And Ruth dodged around Topher, scooped up the ball and performed a jump-shot in one fluid motion.

"Booyah!" She yelled. "In your..." her eyes widened as the ball ricocheted off the ring and smashed through one of the frosted-glass windows. "...face." She finished in a whisper. She clapped one hand over her mouth in horror. "Omigod, I'm so sorry!" She mumbled.

"Topher!" A voice shrieked.

Topher turned and raised one hand in apology to Adelle DeWitt. "Sorry," he called, grinning sheepishly. "I'll, uh, pay for that!"

"Yes you will!" Adelle snarled. She took a deep breath and turned her gaze to Ruth. She smiled coolly. "Ruth," she murmured, inclining her head slightly.

"Hello, ma'am. Sorry, about that..."

Adelle dismissed her with a wave of her hand and turned back to Topher. "Have Mr Langton secure the area and for God's sake will you keep it down?! Our actives are trying to rest!"

"Of course, right away," said Topher, bowing slightly and clasping his hands in front of his chest, his eyes wide. A sheaf of sweaty hair fell across his brow and he pushed it out of the way absently.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Topher and Ruth threw themselves onto the couch in his office, giggling uncontrollably.

"OMG, are you, like, totally in deep shit with your boss now?" Ruth asked, her eyes wide.

"Nah, me and Adelle, we go way back..." Topher trailed off, grimacing. "Yeah, she's gonna tear me a new one tomorrow."

"I guess that's the real reason the sleepies don't get a bee-ball ring."

"That would be it, yeah," agreed Topher. He dragging his hands over his face, laughing. "I am in so much trouble."

"Now I'm glad I don't work here!"

"Me too!"

They glanced at one another and went off on another gale of laughter. Topher drummed his feet on the floor and Ruth rocked from side to side until she fell against him. Sighing the last of his laughter away, Topher draped one arm over her shoulder.

"You know," he said. "For a minute there, I actually thought you were going to kiss me."

"You know," she replied. "For a minute there, I was."

Topher pushed away from her gently so he could look into her face. "Really?" He asked. "You don't, like, hate the smell of me?"

"Are you kidding? You smell awesome."

"Totally?"

"Totally."

Pheromone receptor adjustment... successful.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Topher drifted up from sleep to the sweet scent of Ruth's hair where it lay across his bare chest in a shining fan. She stirred slightly as he shifted her and sank into a deeper sleep once he'd settled her head on the pillow. He sighed and turned to find his clothes... and froze when his eyes met a pair of killer pumps, stockinged legs, designer skirt, silk blouse and finally, Adelle DeWitt's furious gaze.

"Topher," she murmured, her voice barely containing her rage. "Please tell me you didn't..."

"Didn't!" Topher cut in, scrambling to his feet. "Didn't, didn't, definitely did not. See, still clothed below the waist!" He indicated his boxer shorts and twitched the blankets aside to reveal Ruth's white cotton panties. The girl shivered in her sleep and curled herself into a ball. Topher grimaced and covered her over again, praying she wouldn't wake as he scrambled into a t-shirt and yanked his jeans on. "We just, you know, held one other," he told Adelle. "I couldn't go through with it."

Adelle's stormy gaze scrutinised Topher's face for a moment.

"If you're lying to me..."

"I'm not lying!"

Adelle closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as though she was counting to ten and trying very hard not to lash out at a naughty child. "Wake her up, wipe her, and send her over to Dr Saunders for a complete physical. And if she finds any evidence of..."

"She won't," Topher assured her. "She won't, okay?"

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

Topher turned as the chair whined and righted itself, pasting a kind, benevolent smile into place.

"Hello Zulu. How... how are you feeling?" He managed.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"For a little while."

Zulu looked around the room and turned her mild gaze back to Topher. "Shall I go now?"

"If... if you like," said Topher. He smiled harder and steadied his voice. "Why don't you go for a swim?"

"I like to swim 30 laps a day," Zulu told him. "It keeps me at my best."

"I'm sure it does," said Topher. "Oh, but Dr Saunders would like to see you first." He turned away and thrust his fists onto the desk either side of the keyboard, squeezing his eyes shut. He listened as the chair creaked slightly.

"I like Dr Saunders," said Zulu. "She has candy."

"Uh huh." Go, just go, please go before I lose my mind.

"Topher?"

Topher spun around, his eyes wide. He couldn't remember any doll, not even Echo, addressing him by name before.

"Yes... Zulu."

"Was I my best?"

Topher swallowed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he'd managed to find his smile too. "Better," he said.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

In the archive room, Topher paused in the act of slipping Ruth4.0 in with the discarded imprints. He tapped the wedge against his chin, almost pressing his lips against the cold black plastic for a moment.

That's the contract, he'd told Claire Saunders once. You don't know me and I don't know you. Not fully. Not ever.

"Not ever," Topher murmured, his breath fogging the surface of the wedge.

He turned away from the archive shelf and headed for the incinerator.

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOooooooooo

"Well?"

"For starters, she stinks of him..."

Adelle raised an eyebrow at Dr Saunders. "That doesn't surprise me given the circumstances under which I found them this morning," she said. "But it's immaterial. Go on."

Dr Saunders made a tiny moue of disgust. "Well, other than that, she's in good physical health..."

"So did they...?" Boyd left the rest of the question unasked.

"I can't tell," said Dr Saunders. "Not for certain."

"You can't tell?" Adelle repeated, enunciating each word with deadly calm. "I thought that was one of the things you could tell?"

"Well, if they did, there's no... residue." That moue of disgust again.

"You mean semen? There's no semen?"

"No," said Dr Saunders quietly. "But they could have used a condom, I suppose."

"What about pelvic bruising?"

"There was a little, but that generally only happens in a rape, or if the... intercourse... is particularly..." Dr Saunders trailed off. "Particularly vigorous," she finally managed. Imagining particularly vigorous sex with Topher was making her nauseous. "It could also happen if the person in question went mountain-biking or horse-back-riding, for example."

"Horse-riding?!" Adelle snorted. "When would she have gone... oh."

"Her last assignment was with that Riding for the Disabled organisation," Boyd put in, pushing himself away from his place against the wall.

"Exactly," said Dr Saunders quietly.

Adelle smiled beatifically at her doctor and her head of security. "Well," she said. "That'll be all then. Thank you Dr Saunders. Mr Langton, has the debris from last night's... basketball game... been attended to?"

"Yes, ma'am."