Author's Note: There are a lot of theories that Topher and Claire had some kind of pre-Whiskey connection (whether it be brother/sister, boyfriend/girlfriend, etc.). I had another theory that developed into a three chapter story, one chapter for each of her "transformations." This first chapter is a more narrative style bit about who her original personality was and how they met. The other two chapters would be more introspective on snippets of scenes from Topher's POV about Whiskey and Claire.
My writing skills are quite rusty so I hope this is okay. Enjoy!
Chapter 1 – Anna Calroy
"I don't know what anyone has told you but that mix-up, not my fault!" he said fervently, punctuating his statement with a hand gesture. He was positive it wasn't. He blamed his lab assistant. Yes, sure, he hadn't been working there very long and he was, in years at least, younger than anyone else in that lab but when the man in the clean white lab coat can't write clearly enough on a wedge to distinguish the letter V from the letter U, we have a serious problem, a serious problem that results in an tough-as-nails thief going on what was supposed to be a lovely, romantic dinner date. The blame needed to be properly placed because although he knew they wouldn't fire him, he was the smartest one in that lab, he didn't want a mark on his record just because the head of security had it in for him.
But the second he saw the look on Adelle DeWitt's face, it dawned on him in a crashing revelation that bursting into her "deal-making room" in the heat of the moment was probably not the best idea in the world. That death glare she gave him could have probably killed a small child and it was a motherly, well, not maternal, but certainly condescending, scolding that he had a feeling he had to look forward to in a few hours, once business was finished.
"Mr. Brink, can't you see I'm with a candidate," she said through slightly gritted teeth, as she rose from her chair and approached him intimidatingly.
He looked past her towards the round table in the middle of the room where her infamous green teapot and matching cups sat surrounded by paperwork. On the opposite side of the table from where Adelle had been sitting he saw a young woman with her face turned away from him, discreetly wiping her eyes with her sleeve like she had just been crying.
"Ah, sorry," he said, walking over to the candidate to try to make the situation less awkward. "Hi. I'm Topher Brink, the head programmer," he said, extending a hand to her.
The woman turned towards him, her eyes visibly red and puffy, and she smiled the weak smile of someone unable to fully put on a brave face. Her short, brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which seemed to make her large brown eyes even bigger. She was wearing a plain white t-shirt tucked into a navy blue pencil skirt and an open lavender-colored cardigan that fell to her knees and had sleeves long enough to completely cover her hands. Curiously, on the cardigan was a pin in the shape of a spider.
"Anna Calroy, the next person to put their life in your hands," she said, pushing up her sleeve and shaking his hand. Even though she looked into his eyes as she spoke, her voice sounded insecure.
He couldn't help but smile. This was the first time he had really met an Active before they became an Active and although he knew it was kind of a rule that they were supposed to be pretty, they didn't all give off the same vibe before being wiped that she did. She seemed unsure of why they had chosen her, unsure if she had made the right decision to sign the papers, and seemed a bit too innocent-looking to be subjected to the kinds of things he knew she would encounter in the next five years.
He instantly liked her.
Quickly realizing that he had trapped her in what had turned into a thirty second handshake, he let go with an uncomfortable laugh and turned back to Ms. DeWitt.
"Oh, and I have a message from Dom. He needs to see you right now, emphasis on the now; some big issue with the scary higher ups and standard procedure and other words that he likes to throw around. Actually if you could also tell him that I'm not responsible for delivering his messages and I really don't like being told them in that scary, threatening tone of his, that would make me feel so much better."
A fleeting look of visible annoyance passed across her face at the prospect of having to deal with Rossum for the second time this week but she stifled it expertly and nodded.
"Understood," she said monotonously. "Now if you could please take Ms. Calroy to the imprinting room . . ."
"Actually," Anna interrupted, leaning towards them. "I know I already signed my life away but I was wondering if I could get a look at the facilities first. It would make me feel a lot better," she said shyly, clearly hoping that she wasn't out of line in asking.
"Of course," Ms. DeWitt said, smiling as she tried to think of someone she could assign the chore to. Really anyone with a general idea of what not to say to a future Active would suffice.
"I'll do it," Topher volunteered. "It's a slow day," he said, creating an excuse. In truth, he was fascinated by this woman. What is the mind like of someone before they enter the Dollhouse? He wanted to know.
Ms. DeWitt looked dubious at his interest in such a job but it saved her a lot of trouble that he had so willingly offered.
"Alright," she said, turning to Anna. "I leave you in Mr. Brink's capable hands."
As DeWitt piled up all the papers and contracts on the table and left the room, Anna and Topher exchanged awkward smiles.
"So," Topher said, breaking the silence as he rocked back and forth on his feet. "This is the deal-making room." He motioned to the room they were in. "As far as I know, it doesn't serve any other purpose."
Anna let out a slight chuckle. "Well, I guess it's effective then," she said, trying to be light about the situation but unable to cover up a thin layer of gloom.
Thinking it would be best to get her away from the place she just signed five years of her life away in, he motioned for her to come with him. "If you will follow me. . ." he said with a tour guide like gesture as they walked over to an elevator right outside the door.
"One question before I forget," Anna said as the elevator doors shut behind them. "Ms. DeWitt wasn't sure about this but I wear contact lens and I was wondering if I should take them out now since I won't need them, right?"
Another situation he had yet to encounter! As far as he knew, none of the Actives had particularly poor vision before being wiped but then again, a lot of the Actives in the house currently were criminals who probably wouldn't be allowed to have metal objects that could be used in a fight, like an innocuous pair of glasses.
"You'll have to before we put you in the chair but for now, if you don't have glasses with you . . ."
"Oh, I do!" she said quickly, pulling them out of the pocket of her cardigan. "I'm prepared," she said grinning, as the doors opened onto the main floor. "In fact, I think I over-thought this whole thing, trying to look kind of nice and everything" she said, pointing to what she was wearing.
Topher shrugged. "Well, they won't retract an offer for looking like a slob," he said laughing. "I mean, we've got . . ." He paused and coughed, realizing he was about to tell her about the prison sentence shorting deal they had worked out. That would definitely fall under the category of 'things she shouldn't know about.'
"You can throw your contacts away over there," he said, hurriedly changing the topic and motioning to a trash can right outside the elevator.
She gave him an inquisitive look but seemed to decide questioning him wasn't worth it and instead, walked over to the can, pulling the lens out of her eyes with practiced skill. When she turned back towards him, she was wearing the glasses, thin gold frames that only added to the overall 'sweet' look she had going.
"Goody. Let the tour officially begin," he said, with a grand gesture as they walked towards the center of the Active's floor. He heard Anna suck in a nervous breath beside him and looked over to see her mesmerized by the Actives, walking blissfully across the room. She must not have noticed them when they first got onto the floor.
"That's what I'm going to become?" she asked erratically as she pointed straight ahead. "They're like zombies; without the brain-eating, right?"
Topher laughed. "Yeah, come on," he said, approaching a tall, blond Active with the uniform spacey expression they all shared.
"Alpha!" he shouted, causing Alpha to stop in his tracks and look at the two of them blankly.
"Hello," he said in a tranquil, even tone.
"Freaky," Anna whispered to Topher.
Topher grinned at her interest in his work. "Alpha, I'd like you to meet a new friend. This is Whiskey," he said in a far more calming tone than his usual one, motioning to Anna.
"Hello, Whiskey. My name is Alpha."
"Hi," Anna said slowly with a slight wave before shooting a look of horror at Topher.
"Alpha, why don't you go paint something?" he said, thinking she has seen enough to understand.
"Okay. I like painting," Alpha replied flatly.
As he walked away, Anna put a hand to her mouth in stunned silence.
"NATO phonetic alphabet names," she said in a purely observational tone.
He nodded.
"The second graders I used to teach could outwit them," she said in shock.
"You're a teacher?" Topher asked interested.
"Yeah, well, was," she said lowering the hand from her mouth. "I mold minds . . . differently from how you do," she said grinning at him. "It's a much slower process."
He returned the smile. Yes, he definitely liked her.
"I started out teaching kindergarten but I switched to second grade. Kindergarteners always need you to hold their hand through everything but second graders are more self reliant."
"I skipped second grade. I hear it's good though," he joked.
Anna laughed, the panic melting off her face. "Well, at least a second grader can fight back when attacked." She paused thoughtfully. "They can't, can they?" she asked, meaning the Actives.
"No, but we have a really strong security team lead by the most annoyingly serious man you'll ever meet. You'll be safe," he said, optimistically, as if he was making a promise to her.
Anna smiled. "Okay. So what else is there to see other than this crazy Zen interior decorating?" she asked, approaching one of the pools in the middle of the room and looking down at the rocks beneath the surface.
"Here they do yoga and meditation exercises; the whole place is designed to be all calm and spa-like. Over there, as you can see, we have your typical gym equipment," he said pointing across the way. "Back there is the art-type area thing for art-related doing. The dining area is right through there; three nutritious meals a day and I can say from personal experience that the food is awesome." He spun around, trying to find more landmarks to point out. "And the only other visible thing on this floor from here is Dr. Saunders' office which is right by the massage place."
Anna raised an eyebrow. "Do they need to see a doctor often?" she asked a bit worried.
"No, no," Topher said quickly, realizing that it sounded bad to need a doctor on the floor all the time. "Well, yes, but not for injuries or anything. Before and after assignments they have check-ups to make sure everything is fine."
"Oh," Anna said relieved.
"Do you," he started pointing to the office with his thumbs. "Do you want to meet the doctor?" Although she wouldn't remember him the next time she sees him, it would probably provide some much needed comfort to her now.
"Oh!" she said surprised. "Yeah, sure."
Walking towards the door, Topher realized Anna was looking at him speculatively.
"Topher is short for Christopher, right?" she asked out of nowhere.
"Yeah," he answered. "You're wondering why it's not Chris, right?"
Anna chuckled. "You get that a lot, huh?"
He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "Not as much as you'd think but enough to drive the point home. Chris just didn't fit."
Anna nodded.
"So is Anna short for something?" he asked.
"Lilianna."
"You know what my next question is."
"Same reason. Lily didn't fit like Anna did. Unfortunately, my mother really liked the name Lilianna but she only got an Anna," she said distantly.
"Personally, I don't think you need the Lily. Weighs it down too much," he said, furrowing his brows and nodding like he had thought deeply about this.
She flashed a slight smile as they came to the entrance of the office.
"Dr. Saunders?" Topher called out, poking his head into the room.
A man with thinning white hair and thick, black glasses looked out from behind a computer and smiled.
"Ah, Topher," he said cordially. "Need to see a file?" he asked, getting up from his chair and smoothing out his white lab coat.
"No, I just wanted to introduce you to An-Whiskey. Well, the future, first Whiskey," he said, moving aside so he could see her. "She's nervous," he whispered, loud enough for Anna to hear.
Dr. Saunder's smiled and grabbed a jar of lollipops off his medical tray.
"Well, miss I can assure you that you will be well taken care of by me and by the whole staff here," he said warmly, holding out the jar to her.
Anna took out an orange one. "Hey, if you give us candy, it can't be that bad, right?" she said jokingly.
Dr. Saunders laughed and patted her on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. Giving her a tour?" he asked, looking over at Topher.
"Yeah, actually, we have to get back to that," he said, peeking over at Anna who had unwrapped the lollipop and put it in her mouth.
"Lead the way," she said in a tone muffled by the candy. She took it out of her mouth with a pop sound. "Nice meeting you," she said politely to the doctor.
"I'll see you soon," he called back.
Once they had left the office and started walking in the direction of the pool and shower area, Anna spoke up.
"Does he give lollipops to the zombies?" she asked curiously.
"Yeah," Topher said, chuckling. "He treats them like little kids."
Anna nodded, staring at her lollipop with immense focus. "Do you think there's a method to their choice of lollipop?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, wondering where the idea came from but intrigued nonetheless.
"Do they choose at random? Do they try different ones until they find a flavor they like? Do they pick the candy that is the most appealing color to them? I mean, they're supposed to be the same, right, but how same are they?"
Topher looked at her with his mouth open like he was going to say something but shut it after a second and rubbed his chin. No one had really done any experiments too invasive on the Actives yet since the primary focus had always been solely on creating the technology and then applying it for a profit. Theoretically, the wipes would lead to each Active only being about to choose things at random but based on the behavior he had been witnessing since he got the job, it's completely possible that there are differences among the Actives no matter how difficult they are to pinpoint.
"Someone should keep a record," Anna decided, pointing at Topher with her lollipop.
"Do you ever experiment on your students like that?" he asked teasingly.
"Shh, don't tell anyone," she said, pressing a finger to her lips and laughing. "Really, though, I minored in psychology. This whole doll thing opens up a whole new world of social and psychological tests. It's really fascinating."
They both stopped walking and looked down.
"The pool!" Topher said dramatically, with his arms out. The room containing the pool was completely empty aside from some wooden panels in front of the walls that contrasted with the unnatural turquoise of the water.
"I can see that," Anna said, pacing around the side of it since there was nowhere else to go in the room. "It's very . . . rectangular."
"For doing laps."
"Right. I swam competitively in college so I usually know my way around one of these."
"Then you should feel right at home here," he said gladly, hoping he had found something in the house that she would approve of.
Anna frowned as she knelt down to touch the water.
"I guess," she sighed, cupping the water in her hand and then letting it slip through her fingers back into the pool.
In an effort to diffuse the situation, Topher clapped his hands together as if he was punctuating a change in subject. "So, after swimming you would want to go over here," he said, leading her through the hallway connected to the pool into the showers, "to wash off the chlorine."
The shower room was designed like one you would see in a men's locker room but with much nicer décor that continued the blue and wood color scene of the pool. It mostly consisted of multiple showerheads that laid enclosed by a circular glass structure that generally allowed concealment of the people inside and a few shelves for holding towels.
"And there's a sauna right there," Topher said, pointing to the door on his right.
Anna looked at the communal shower with apprehension.
"So are these the male showers or the female showers?" she asked gradually, seemingly already sure of the answer.
Topher started to back away from her as he tried to think of a sensible way to explain.
"Well, ha, you see, funny thing about that, they both shower here but that really doesn't mean anything," he laughed clumsily stumbling over his words. "Because Actives don't feel that thing, you know, that keeps men and women in separate bathrooms and . . ."
Suddenly, a showerhead above where Topher had backed into, turned on, spraying him decently before he could jump out of the way.
"And did I mention they're automatic?"
Anna covered her mouth to stifle her uncontrollable laughter.
"I'll get you a towel," she said with a grin, circling around the shower structure to where a stack of red towels were piled up. She grabbed one off the top and unfolded it as she walked back over to where Topher was now standing outside of the glass wall, trying to ring out the cuffs of his shirt. He reached out his hand for the towel but instead of handing it to him, she started trying to dry off his hair herself with gentle pats.
"Oh my God," she said stunned, shoving the towel into his hands. "I'm sorry. That was weird," she said, turning away from him with embarrassment.
"No," he said unable to stop the smile creeping up his face. "Okay, it was a little. I mean, I'm a big boy; I can do it myself but . . ."
"It's from working with kids for too long. It's a habit," she said a bit vehemently as if she was trying to justify herself.
"Well, on the bright side, it means you have a good maternal instinct," he said blithely, trying to soak up the water from his clothes.
Anna turned back to look at him and tilted her head to the side like she was trying to understand what exactly he meant by that, connotation-wise.
The room filled with a pregnant pause as they both thoroughly over thought what he had said.
Unable to take the tension, Topher cleared his throat as a means of getting back on topic and threw the towel into a dirty laundry bin nearby.
"Anyway, you shouldn't feel like your privacy is being violated while you shower," he finished.
Anna glanced above the wall of the shower configuration warily.
"With the exception of the cameras?"
It was moments like this that Topher knew why he wasn't the one doing the sales pitch for the Dollhouse.
"Those are for safety purposes only. It's not like anyone watches them for fun . . ."
"There are multiple people who can see them?" she demanded, a bit panicky.
Topher sighed. This wasn't going anywhere.
"Listen, I know this probably won't mean much but I, Topher Brink, personally promise that I won't watch you in the shower. I'll avoid seeing any shower tapes at all within my power. If a shower camera comes up on my screen, I will look away and go play Minesweeper."
Anna smiled but didn't say anything.
"And you're not supposed to know this but there are really only like, four people including myself who have full access to these tapes and, as far as I know, none of them are perverts . . . to any troublesome degree," he said in a low, secretive voice.
She shook her head slightly, her grin not faltering.
"You gonna show me something else now?" she asked, hitting him lightly in the arm.
"I can show you the sleeping pods!" he said with an excited tenor.
"Can't say the word 'pod' makes me feel too good," she admitted, following him back into the hallway.
"I know it sounds like something creepy in a sci-fi flick and they kind of are but they're pretty cool," he said as they came to the entrance of one of the rooms. The room had a wall of glass panels that did not provide as thick concealment as the ones in the shower room so one could see people coming and going. Inside the room were five underground beds with frosted covers that formed a star shape with stools in between the beds and in the center of the room. High on the wall there was a darkened window installed for employees to look down into the rooms.
"All the rooms have five pods and they have a protective cover that closes when they go to sleep so that the air inside can . . ."
Topher stopped talking at the sound of Anna crashing to the floor. Her eyes were closed and her body lay sprawled out as if she had fainted. He dropped onto his knees as rapidly as he could and lifted up her head, tilting it back over his arm to try to allow more air into her lungs.
"Anna?" he called, trying to rouse her.
At an excruciatingly slow pace, Anna opened her eyes, looking up at Topher with a look of confusion until she rolled her head to the right and was reminded of the reason she passed out. Without warning, she started crying profusely, her hands flying up to cover her face. Topher, partially confused and partially tremendously uncomfortable at seeing a girl cry, did the only thing that made any sense to him and held her in a loose but supportive hug.
"Anna, do you want to move away from here?" he asked, using the same soothing tone he uses on the Actives.
Through her heavy crying, she managed a nod and Topher immediately helped her to her feet and started leading her back towards where the showers were. Now that he had in a standing position, instead of helping her back onto the floor, he let her lean on him like a support beam. Trying to swallow how ill at ease he was, he rubbed her back in a gentle motion as he looked past her, gauging how she was doing based on the noise she made.
"Do you wanna tell me what's wrong?" he asked, when she had started to calm down.
She looked at him with reddened eyes. "Everyone's here for a reason, right? Less than two weeks ago both my parents died," she said weepy.
"I'm so sorry," he said sincerely, moving a hand onto her shoulder.
She nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"After the funeral, I flew right back here to try to get back to my normal routine but that night my apartment was broken into."
She stopped to take in a deep, shaky breath.
"He locked me in my closet and took anything really valuable that I had. But the real reason I'm here is . . . I was in that closet for three days . . . Claustrophobia . . . PTSD."
"God," Topher murmured, putting a hand up to his forehead. "If I had known . . ."
"You couldn't have," Anna interrupted, her tone stronger as she tried to wipe her eyes clean. "Unless you read the minor stories in the paper. I suspect that's how they found me. I'm the perfect candidate: no family, very few friends who think I've been carted off to a mental hospital by now, few possessions left, no kids, no pets even though I was thinking of getting a dog, grief and trauma. That's what they look for, isn't it? People with virtually no reason to live."
"What about your students?" he said, trying to help. Arguably, he didn't have much in his life outside of his job but he loved it and took so much pride in it that he never felt particularly empty. From the way she had talked about her students earlier, he wondered if she had been the same way.
Anna sighed. "They'll get a new teacher." She looked at him with her head tilted; the tears on her cheeks now dry. "Don't look so sad. I'm here because you'll fix me," she said in a marginally more optimistic tone, afraid that she had brought him down with her.
Topher hadn't been aware that he had looked sad but when she mentioned it, he tried to smile. In response, she looked down into his sweater.
"You smell good," she said casually, stepping away from him.
"Thanks," he said with a goofy smile plastered on his face that he couldn't suppress. Realizing he probably looked like an idiot, he changed the topic.
"Well, we've seen pretty much all the Active's facilities so unless you really want to see my office . . ."
"I do," she piped up.
"Really?" he asked, caught off guard. "Okay, yeah. I mean, I don't have to get you in the chair for another hour or so, so we can kill time there. I have games and stuff."
"That sounds amazing," she gushed with complete sincerity.
They walked down the hallway again, in the opposite direction of where the pods were, until they ended up back where they started at the center of the floor where a yoga lesson was in progress.
"I swear I'm not normally this emotionally unstable," Anna said, as they mounted the stairs that lead up to the second half floor.
"You know, I had a hunch," he said grinning back at her.
They stopped at the top of the stairs and Topher looked over at Anna to see a look of awe on her face.
"This is my office," he said proudly.
Anna walked into the middle of the room, spinning around to see everything. The main level of the office that they were standing on looked like the cross between an actual office and a rec room with things like a dart board, whack-a-mole, and a gumball machine mingling amongst multiple monitors and equipment. On the lower level were a few chairs and side tables and a one-person trampoline all set up in front of a large window wall that looked out over the Active's floor.
"This isn't an office. This is an apartment," she said, laughing. "Where's your bed?"
"In the back room over there," he said, pointing to the door behind them. "It's all cozy and protected and surrounded by things that buzz and blink all night."
"I was kidding," Anna said surprised. "You really live here?"
Topher pulled a face of doubt but ultimately nodded; well aware that his situation was strange but hoping she wouldn't judge him too harshly for it.
"That's . . . kind of cool. Arguably a bit crazy but kind of cool," she said walking over to his desk. "I guess it's true that if you want to know a lot about someone quickly, look at their room." She laughed to herself as she looked around. "Have you got enough chess boards?" she asked, pointing out three in eyeshot.
"I like to play against myself," he admitted.
"Well, that way you always win," she said with a smile, inspecting the board. "Is it white's turn to move here?" she asked, scrutinizing the game.
"Yeah," he said slowly, wondering if she was getting at something.
She moved a piece on the board, causing Topher to rush over and see what she had done.
"How did you see that?" he asked, noting that she had just set up the game so that on the next turn, white would be able to take any number of pieces and thereby penetrate the setup he had been building on the black side.
Anna shrugged as she walked down to the lower level to look out of his infamous window.
"You were probably looking at the game too long. Fresh set of eyes," she said, motioning to her face. "And I used to play a lot with my dad. He thought it would make me smarter."
Topher stared at the board a bit longer, trying to think of a way his black pieces could redeem themselves but came back to reality when he realized she had been silent for a while. He glanced down at Anna to see her transfixed on the Actives below, her head tilted to the side and a frown on her lips.
"I wonder if they're happy," she mused pensively.
Topher descended the stairs and moved to stand next to her, looking down on the Dolls below.
"I don't think they understand happy," he answered truthfully. "Not like we do."
Anna turned towards him, her gaze barely meeting his as if she was too distracted by her thoughts.
"Too bad."
Anna sighed lightly and finally looked directly at Topher.
"I would jump on your trampoline if I wasn't wearing a skirt," she said smiling to lighten the mood but it was clear that the 'too bad' had been directed at the Actives.
"So am I in the computer yet?" she asked, pointing over her shoulder at the computer on his desk.
"Uh, let me check," he said, snapping out of the thoughtful funk she had brought about and going up to the computer to look her up. All that had been entered so far was her name, age, and code name with a picture of her wearing a black and pink plaid shirt and standing in front of some bushes. "Hey, nice picture," he said smiling at her as she came up behind him to look over his shoulder.
"The same one from the article. It was taken the last time I went home before . . . you know. I grew up in Vermont but came to California for college and just never left. I wanted to escape the New England winters but I really miss having a big backyard sometimes. My dad was a botanist so we had a huge garden that I always used to help him keep. Actually, this pin is from him. He loved bugs. They went together: bugs and plants. I have a bunch of pins now, a butterfly, a centipede, a ladybug, a cockroach. It became a thing with my students and . . . I'm talking way too much about myself," she realized, embarrassed as she walked over to sit on his couch.
"No, no," he said, closing the file and going over to sit next to her. "If you want I could share some far too in depth information about myself. I have a lot of phobias: rodents, the dark, going out of my comfort zone which applies to pretty much every part of my life . . . and is kind of why I live here. I have a really bad snacking problem that will probably catch up with me one day. Oh, and half the time when I should be doing something important, I'm playing video games . . . or computer games . . . or board games, any game really. I even have laser tag but no one to play it with."
Anna grinned. "Can you keep a secret?"
Topher leaned in closer to her. "Yeah."
"I love laser tag . . . and I never one hundred percent grew out of gaming."
Topher's face grew very serious.
"If the Actives were asleep, we would play so much laser tag," he said as if it was the direst thing in the world.
Anna burst out laughing at his reaction, clutching her side in pain.
"Well, I'm sorry we can't," she choked out between laughs. "But I was wondering," she started, calming down, "Can I get a last meal?"
"We could check out the kitchen," he offered, standing up. "You can actually get a chance to taste that great food I mentioned earlier," he said enthusiastically as if trying to rile her up.
"I was thinking more along the lines of junk food."
"I can help you out with that!" he said snapping his fingers as he walked over to his fridge. "What would you like? Name anything."
"Got anything resembling pizza?" she asked eagerly.
Topher opened up the freezer and pulled out two boxes, one in each hand, as he turned back around to show her.
"Squares or bagels? I had rolls but I ate them for lunch."
"I'll take the squares," she said pointing to the box on his right. "I'm pretty hungry."
He put the pizza bagel box back in the freezer and opened up the other one, pulling out the frozen pizza squares and breaking them up to put them in the toaster oven. Once they were all in the oven, he opened up the fridge.
"Drink?" he asked, peering inside. "Right now I only have juice boxes and beer."
"Anything stronger than beer?" Anna asked hopefully.
"Well, I have some old juice boxes that might have fermented," he offered reluctantly.
"I'll just take a fresh one."
"Apple, grape, or mixed berry?"
"Mixed berry, please."
"Perfect. Those are my least favorite," he said, tossing her the pouch which she caught with one hand. "Snack while we wait for the pizza? I have a whole drawer of inappropriate starches," he said joyfully.
"Anything onion-flavored?"
"Sour cream and onion chips?" he asked, holding up the bag.
Anna nodded vigorously as Topher grabbed a pre-meal snack for himself and rejoined her on the couch. Immediately, she popped open the bag and ate a chip like she hadn't had one in forever.
"I think I'm in love you your food collection," she joked, crunching down on a few more.
"I think I'm jealous of my food collection," he quipped back without thinking.
Anna stopped chewing as a flush started to develop on her cheeks and she looked away from him for a second. When she looked back at him, she smiled.
"Are you eating a Slim Jim?" she asked randomly, noting the brown stick he was chewing on.
"Yeah. I'm sorry! Do you want one?" he asked, feeling like a bad host for not asking. He never had guests in his office.
"No, no. They freak me out."
"What?!" he asked flabbergasted.
"They're died meat with this viscous, orangey liquid that you can squeeze out of them. It's scary! Like Twinkies," she insisted, making a face.
"You did not just diss Twinkies," Topher said with all the severity of someone whose family had just been insulted.
"They're cake that hasn't been baked! They don't expire! They're barely classifiable as a food product," she argued fervently.
"And if we find ourselves in an apocalypse you can always survive on Twinkies for that very reason!"
"Before you die from the fat and sugar."
"A delicious death," he said dreamily. "Have you ever even eaten one?" he asked, trying to confirm the validity of his argument.
"No."
"If I had Twinkies with me right now, I would be forcing you to eat one," he said passionately. "Next time!"
They both went quiet as the timer on the toaster oven went off, signifying that the pizza was done. Without saying anything, Topher got up to put their food on plates as they both reflected on what he had said. He had forgotten that what was happening right now probably would never happen again. In less than an hour, she would be a blank slate for the next five years.
He walked back over to the couch and handed Anna her plate which she took with a very somber thanks.
"When you wake up in five years, I will make sure that I have Twinkies and you will eat one and you will love it," he promised.
"How do you know you'll still be working here?" she asked disbelievingly. "Five years is a long time."
"I'll still be here," he said confidently. Why would he want to leave the best job he could get?
Anna smiled slightly as she bit into the pizza and for a while they both just sat in a comfortable silence and ate until Anna broke it with a line that almost had Topher choking on his food.
"You're a very nice executioner."
And that was it. That was what he had been looking for. The root of her trepidation didn't lie in modesty or phobias or fear of the staff. She was afraid she wouldn't wake up again.
"I'm not an executioner. You're not dying. You'll just be . . . asleep," he said in a strung out tone, trying very hard to convince her.
"Does it hurt?"
Topher thought about it for a second since he himself had yet to use the tech on himself but he knew the answer well enough from watching people's reactions and he didn't want to lie to her.
"Yes."
"Can I ask you to do me a really silly favor?" she requested hesitantly.
"Does it involve dancing because, if it does, this silly favor could turn into something terrifying," he warned jokingly as he finished off one of his pizza squares.
"Can you hold my hand . . . when I'm in the chair?" she asked shyly before shaking her head in shame. "God, I feel like one of the kinder-"
"Yes!" he interjected zealously, causing Anna to physically jump at his response. In an effort to cover up his fervor, he cleared his throat and followed with a very composed, "I'll do it."
Anna smiled, perceptibly more accepting of her fate.
"Thank you."
An alarm on Topher's watch went off, causing them to break eye contact as he tried to shut it off quickly.
"Does that mean what I think it means?" Anna asked grimly.
"I wish we could push it back but my staff have to go home and . . ."
She pressed a finger to his mouth to shut him up.
"I understand. I chose this, remember?"
Anna put down her empty plate and they both stood up.
"It's through there," he said pointing to the imprint room.
Two of Topher's lab assistants were already in the room prepping for the wipe.
"I saw it when we came in," she said as they walked into the room and she sat in the chair without needing to be asked. "I was going to ask about it, see how it works, but I figured you wouldn't be able to tell me."
While Topher went over to the computer to double check everything that had been set up, the assistants went to work at attaching wires to her forehead and setting the chair up properly. One of them took away Anna's glasses without asking and she frowned, her eyes darting around in an enough to find something to focus on.
"Topher?" she called out.
"Are you okay?" he asked, coming over to her side once he had finished.
"You're blurry."
"I'm still here though, regardless of how blurry I am," he said, taking her hand like he had promised. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
At the sound of her confirmation, the chair leaned back until her head was aligned with the machine. Her grip on Topher's hand tightened as the room was suddenly filled with the light from the imprint chair and Anna's groans of pain.
"Everything's going to be alright," Topher repeated quietly over and over as if trying to reassure himself as much as her.
Anna tried to suppress the urge to cry out again but was still clearly in pain as her body convulsed, her eyes shut tight. The process of removing someone's personality and memories and putting them onto a wedge takes longer than normal imprints but it wasn't long before Anna was completely silent as the chair moved back into its upright position and one of the lab assistants started collecting the wires and the wedge that now held Anna Calroy.
Topher watched intently as Whiskey opened her eyes and looked at him with the blank expression of an Active.
"Now that you're here," she said softly, looking from him to their still clasped hands.
Quickly, Topher took his hand away and looked over at his assistants who didn't seem to have heard her following half the script for establishing an Active/Handler relationship. Whiskey looked at her empty hand with a confused expression but then put it down and looked up at Topher.
"Did I fall asleep?" she asked as she should have done right when she woke up.
"For a little while," he responded, wondering if their initial dialogue would wield any negative results later on.
"May I go now?"
"If you like."