Know Your Place
A Caveline fanfiction
She had known from the moment she stepped into the lobby for her interview that Aperture Science was the right place for her. Things were HAPPENING here. NEW things. This wasn't like the other places. She had interviewed to be a receptionist at a newspaper office, a copywriter at a magazine, and an assistant in a medical research lab – THAT one had sounded the best on paper, though the environment was so restrained, so stiff. Then there were all the jobs she had applied for. With a new college degree, majoring in physics and minoring in business (because she'd been told over and over that she needed something she could fall back on, something useful), and with surges of the Women's Rights movement all over the country, Caroline had thought she could achieve big things. And she WOULD. She'd had a few setbacks, true, but they had all led her straight to Aperture.
She had dressed smartly for the interview, in a white skirt and blazer, with her favorite scarf tied loosely around her neck. She had brought copies of her transcripts, her resume, her cover letter… everything she might need. And she answered every question well, she thought. She even took a typing test. She had always been quick and accurate.
Then a man poked his head in the room, and Caroline's heart skipped a beat. Not because he was handsome, though he certainly was – a bit like Elvis, except for the nose. No, more like a golden-haired god, with that wide, knowing smile. But what really pulled her in was the charisma, the sheer CONFIDENCE this man exuded. As if he could reach out and shape the world to match what was in his mind.
"Hey, kid," he said with a wink, those strong eyes focused right on her. "You up for doing some science?"
She'd been so flustered that she'd blushed and glanced at the interviewer.
"We're almost done here, Mr. Johnson," the older man said in a bored tone.
…Mr. Johnson. Cave Johnson. Oh…
Caroline stood immediately and stepped towards him to offer her hand. "Mr. Johnson, sir, I would be honored to do science for you." Her knees were shaking, and she barely heard what she was saying.
Cave laughed, a deep, easy sound, and shook her hand firmly, then brought it to his lips briefly. "This one's not another of those shrinking pansies like we've had before. I like you, kid. When do you start?"
"Actually, she hasn't been…" the interviewer started peevishly.
"I can start right now if you want," Caroline gasped breathlessly.
"That's what I like to hear! The boys in HR can wrap up the paperwork for you, that's all they're good for anyway. What's your name, dollface?"
"It's Caroline, sir." She was so swept up by his brash charm, she felt like she was floating.
"You just made the best decision of your life, coming here, Caroline. Now! What do you say I take you for a spin around the place?"
"Yes SIR, Mr. Johnson!"
"She CAN'T…" the interviewer tried to cut in, but the two were already gone.
Caroline got set up at her own desk right outside Mr. Johnson's office. She proudly kept it neat and perfectly organized. Of course, it was only natural that she would spend a lot of time in his office. Reviewing schedules, giving messages, typing memos… Often he asked her to come in while he was recording messages to encourage the test subjects. He would grin and wink at her as he was speaking, and it infected her, making her flash an answering smile, making her heart grow warm and fluttery.
One night when everyone else had gone home, he put a big hand on her arm. Their eyes met, and she forgot to breathe.
"Got plans tonight, Caroline?" he asked, his voice low and rumbling.
"No, sir."
"How'd you like to… put in a little overtime, then? …For Science?"
She leaned in. "Anything for Science, sir," she said breathlessly.
His smile was warm, but knowing. "That's my girl," he whispered into her ear as she turned her face up to his.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() ()()
Fifteen years later scandals whirled around, and money was draining from the company, but they were still flying high on their successes. There were so many new products and procedures to test. It was all about exploring the possibilities, Mr. Johnson insisted. He had filled out as he aged. His face had gained a certain hardness, but that melted away when it was just the two of them. He had grown a mustache at her suggestion. It made him look stronger.
She accompanied him to every meeting and demonstration now, taking notes and smiling all the while.
Once she had gotten bold, and interrupted the scientists.
"But if this Propulsion Pudding sends food through the body that fast, will it even be digested?"
The scientists had stopped and stared at her. Mr. Johnson raised his eyebrows.
"No, dear, that's the point," the older scientist said with a condescending laugh. His colleague laughed too. Mr. Johnson did not. He urged them to keep going.
Sure enough, soon after the product hit the shelves, it had to be recalled for causing people to excrete undigested chunks of food at high velocity.
"Forget it," Mr. Johnson growled. He pushed the intercom button. "Cave Johnson here. Just wanted to let you know that if you had a hand in that Propulsion Pudding project, I'd like you to head to the warehouse and pick up a box… get something big enough to hold your things. That's right. Pack up. Parking lot. And be quick about it, those desks of yours'll be filled again in no time." He paused. "Because you're fired."
"Sir," Caroline murmured after he was finished. "I've been thinking, what if we repurposed the Propulsion Pudding?"
"What, you mean in the cafeteria?" He laughed. "Sure would be a sight to see at lunch time! Too messy, though."
"No, Mr. Johnson, I mean as a testing component. We've seen how it works in the digestive system, but out in the air, without all the moisture and digestive enzymes and acids to contend with, think of what it could do!"
The CEO paused and tapped his pen thoughtfully. "I don't know…"
Just then the phone rang, and Caroline had to answer it. She ended up answering a number of questions, and finally giving the R&D department's number.
"Caroline, I've got it," Mr. Johnson said when she hung up. "We'll get the lab boys to work out a way to use that Propulsion Pudding in testing."
The secretary frowned until he patted her arm and winked. "Couldn't have done it without you, dollface. You're a gem."
From that point on, Mr. Johnson had Caroline read through each new proposal that crossed his desk. Before they went to see the demonstration, she would hand him a page of carefully-typed notes.
Some of the scientists protested that the ideas Mr. Johnson was suggesting were unsafe. They were quickly given a box and a small map to the parking lot.
And Science progressed at an alarming pace, with the driving force of Mr. Johnson and the gentle but steely direction of Caroline.
They spent all their time together now, though of course much of it was taken up by Science. But on Friday nights, late at night when even the janitors had gone home, they would meet in an empty lab. She would cook them dinner over the lab burner (he liked steak and she liked pasta, so they usually had one or the other). Then they would open a bottle of wine and put on some music and dance for a while. His strong, forceful movements weren't ideal for the slow melodies, but she loved the feel of his body against hers.
These nights had been his idea. It made her glow to think of that. And if they stayed a bit longer than it took to eat, drink, and dance, and if they both left a little rumpled… there was no one to see, no one to know.
They never mentioned work on Friday nights. It was a time to be together, to enjoy each other's company. Not a time to vent growing frustration. Frustration that no matter how many ideas she suggested, and no matter how many were USED, and were SUCCESSFUL, they always came from Cave Johnson. She had tried to speak out just a few more times, and the scientists always gave her that patronizing little smile, the gentle reminder that a SECRETARY (and by that, they meant a woman) didn't have anything to contribute to Science.
They had no idea. Caroline was all that Science was meant to be.
And Mr. Johnson said nothing. Oh, he praised her constantly. Not just when they were alone, but in the prerecorded messages he enjoyed so much. In fact, he often told anyone he came across how valuable she was. A gem, he said. The backbone of the facility, he said, smiling fondly at her. Proudly.
But when the scientists turned her ideas away, he never spoke up.
It didn't matter, she told herself firmly. He knew how much she contributed. SHE knew it. She was setting projects into motion that could change the world. Science was being done, because of her.
And that was enough.
()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()() ()()
As Caroline's heels clicked down the hall, other employees flinched a little. She had no interest in them, of course. Her destination was Mr. Johnson's office. Anyone else would have paused, knocked softly, perhaps even looked around furtively.
Caroline turned the knob and stepped inside, head held high. The office was empty, as it had been for a while.
It was very different than the office Caroline had first seen. More awards. More furniture. It seemed fuller. Heavier. The air was stale.
She passed through a door, and if anything, the heaviness intensified.
"Mr. Johnson, the board of directors won't stand for this," the head of the legal department – the one remaining member – hissed in a low voice, bending over the aging man lying in bed.
The CEO tried to hold back a cough, but it wracked his body again and again. A nurse on his other side offered him a glass of water and a handkerchief. He coughed into the handkerchief a few times and wiped his mouth, then took a swig of water. Caroline noticed spots of red on the white cloth, and her stomach twisted.
"Caroline," Mr. Johnson croaked out, his raspy voice saturated with relief. His eyes shone when they lit on her, and she felt her heart lift just a little.
The man glared at the lawyer. "I don't care about the board. Who's in charge here? Who built this company up from nothing? It damn well wasn't them! You've got my answer. We're done here."
"But Mr. Johnson –"
"Get out," Caroline snapped icily. It made the other three stop for a moment.
"We can discuss this further later," muttered the lawyer.
"Nothing to discuss. You know what I want. Make it happen. Now get out," Mr. Johnson growled. His eyes, still strong though they were more sunken than ever, turned to the nurse. "And you. I don't need some incompetent ninny fluttering over me."
"M-Mr. Johnson, I'm just doing my job," the woman stammered.
"You're not needed at the moment," Caroline informed her. The other woman ducked her head and hurried out. As the door closed behind her, the tension in the room fell noticeably. The CEO sighed.
"Does she need to be replaced?" Caroline asked, her eyes still on the door.
"No point, no one else ever did any better," the man grumbled. Then he looked up with a strained smile. "Except you, of course, dollface."
Caroline relaxed enough to return the smile with a tight-lipped one of her own. Once, when she was young and besotted, she had dreamed of marrying this man. But that wasn't in his plans, and by this time, she was glad. Marriage would have complicated and strained their relationship. She walked over and bent to kiss him, soft and lingering on the lips.
"You are a gem, Caroline," he sighed into her ear when she stopped.
She smiled at him, tilting her head down and to the side slightly as she used to. Outside she was stiff and cold and formal, and she knew she terrified most of the staff. She didn't care. In here she was still soft. Only for this man, who had retained his rugged good looks and his manly charm even while being ravaged by moon rock poisoning.
Mr. Johnson coughed again and took a deep breath. "Caroline, you know you've always been a shining beacon of pure Science around here… I want to make sure you're taken care of when I'm gone."
"Don't talk that way, sir," she said sharply. "The lab boys are working on a cure."
"Please," he scoffed. "You and I both know they couldn't cure heat stroke in a blizzard. But you know you'll always have a place at Aperture."
Caroline stilled, gazing off slightly above his head for a long moment. "Aperture… IS my place, Sir," she said distantly. "It always has been."
When she focused on him again, Mr. Johnson was watching her closely. His eyes were a little clouded, but he was still sharply focused on his assistant. "Your place is at the top, Caroline. That's where Aperture belongs. It's where you've always been, and you can pull it right back up again. You're the heart and soul of Aperture. Always have been."
"It's all for Science, sir," Caroline said, lowering her eyes to avoid the misty look in his. It was only a whisper of what it had been.
Sometimes he let it go, but this time he grasped at her arm. Though his strength had wasted away, his grip was still tight.
"We only got as far as we did because of you, Caroline," Mr. Johnson rumbled. "Me and Aperture. We'd be nothing without you."
Sometimes she would sit with him, talk to him, read to him, try to make him laugh. Sometimes she would lock the door and slip off her heels and lie down with him, hold him when his weakening frame was shaking with coughs. He no longer had the energy for more strenuous activity, but she had come to terms with that.
Tonight she kept her eyes down but clasped a hand firmly over his. "Mr. Johnson," she began.
"You'll go far, Caroline," he said, his voice low and rough. "You'll be the best of us. Always were. You'll show 'em all."
He dissolved into a violent coughing fit.
Caroline held herself straight and tall and still. She looked down on his quaking head, the hair thin and gray now. He couldn't carry Aperture on his shoulders like this. And for the first time, she realized that he never would again. She was the only one who could protect his dream and further the cause of Science.
She had to. At any cost.
"Yes sir, Mr. Johnson," she said distantly as she steeled her heart against the years to come.