This is my first Big O fic., so be gentle. Hope you like it. Oh, and I don't own it, blah blah blah.
***

Roger Smith awoke to the sound of a ringing phone. Disoriented, he looked around the room with a grumble. When he finally decided no one was going to answer the phone, he wrapped his large comforter around his shoulders and dragged himself to the phone.

Upon picking up the receiver, he was relived and annoyed all at once to hear the voice of Norman, his butler, on the other end.

"Terribly sorry I wasn't there to wake you, sir," the old man apologized in his British accent, "But Miss Dorothy and I realized we were in dire need of groceries for your breakfast and so we went out to the store. There was a call for you at ten this morning from a Mr. Hunter Green. His number is by the phone."

"Thank you Norman," Roger said with a sigh, "but please try to hurry back - I'm starving," he added.

"I have every intention of doing so, Sir,"

With this, Roger hung up the phone and went off to get ready. As he brushed his hair, still damp from the shower, he began thinking of what he wanted for breakfast. Not that it really mattered, but it would give him something to do - not to mention this was a wonderful way putting off his phone call.

He'd heard of the client before in the papers - Hunter Green was a corrupt industrialist. He ran what had been his father's business, but rumor had it he was far from skilled in business and, despite making some shady under-the-table alliances, was running into money troubles. Roger didn't even want to think about what this man was going to ask him for. Not to mention Green was a known womanizer - Lord knew Roger didn't want that man anywhere near Dorothy.

Roger stopped his thoughts of Green for but a moment to try and figure out why he wouldn't want his lovely android companion near a womanizer. Who would want a machine, anyway? Though the better question would be, why would he care if someone did like her? But, in classic Roger Smith style, he preferred not to dwell on it, and so went on to brush his teeth before his butler arrived with food.
***

Shots rang out from the other side of the warehouse Roger and Dorothy were in. They were huddled against one another behind a lone crate in the otherwise empty concrete room. The two had gone to the location Mr. Green had specified over the phone after breakfast expecting to get a rundown of the circumstances and to settle on a price; however, once they had gotten there, they were assaulted by a horde of gun-wielding guards. And, since it was against Roger's principles to carry a gun, they were left virtually defenseless.

Dorothy had valiantly stood in front of Roger as a shield until he could take cover behind the crate and she joined him herself. Unfortunately, though, her outer shell had been unable to withstand more than the first few blows without significant damage to her left arm, right leg, and her lower chest. As she lay almost covered with dents, and with even further injuries to the aforementioned parts, Roger frantically racked his brain for a way out of the situation, but after sitting for several minutes while the hit men inched ever-closer to their hiding place, he could find none. He was beginning to panic, which was very uncharacteristic of him, when Dorothy turned to him.

"Roger," she began in her soft monotone, "there is only one way to get out of this place without you getting hurt. When I say so, you will run towards the exit, and I will jump out and retrieve the weapons from the hit men,"

Roger stared at her for a moment, taking in her mangled limbs and her weakened overall exterior.

"There has to be another way, Dorothy. Isn't there something we can do so we both get out?" he said quickly, embarrassed he nearly choked on the words.

"No. I have run through all of the possible scenarios, and this is the only way I can save you, Roger. It's alright, it won't hurt. Professor Waynewright neglected to give me any sort of pain receptors. Now go," she said firmly, her expression not changing once.

He pushed himself up into a squatting position, ready to bolt when told. She, too, braced herself for what was to come. As she turned to give him the signal, their eyes met for a brief moment, and suddenly Roger turned himself completely towards her. Neither was sure of what exactly was going on, but before any assessment could be made, his soft, warm lips were on her cool, firm ones.

It was an odd sensation for both, Dorothy having never been kissed, but finding an end to her secret longings before she was shut down permanently, and for Roger because of the mix of human and inhuman qualities he found in her lips and mouth, and because of the overwhelming torrent of emotions he had pushed to the back of his mind rushing forth and pouring into every element of his kiss.

They stayed that way for several moments before pulling away, and they regarded one another with a somber, knowing look before Roger took off running, and Dorothy sprang up in front of the line of fire.

As Roger reached the door, he turned his head back around to gaze at her one last time, to find her body dented and her dress in ruins, oil pooling all around her still form. It was then he realized that she was no longer able to block the shower of bullets that were now racing towards him with such speed that he knew he couldn't escape. At this point, though, he didn't really care. He suddenly realized just how empty his life would have been had he not turned back towards the android - no - the woman he had just now allowed himself to admit he loved. Yes, this was the for the best. And so, without regret, Roger Smith closed his eyes, and let the calmness of death overtake him, lead his spirit to R. Dorothy Waynewright, and with a newfound content, the Negotiator left this world with a soft smile gracing his lips.

*We Have Come To Terms.

Ok, short and sweet. Let me know how you liked this - it was just a spur of the moment thing.