Okay! So Claire's drunk. Like really drunk. And she acts really funny and cutesy and not exactly herself and Topher's not sure what to make of that.


This was not the way that Topher saw his night going.

It really wasn't.

But Topher had always been able to find the amusement in a situation, albiet a cynical, sarcastic sort of humor. But humor none the less. So he could find the humor in the fact that a very intoxicated Claire Saunders was sitting in her polka dot dress on his trampoline working her way through half his drawer of starches. She was currently holding a Dorito up by two fingers, turning it over as she examined the artificial coating on the chip's surface before blowing out a breath and popping it into her mouth. Topher kept his eye on her but continued to work on the newest imprint.

"So, you figured it out yet?" he asked.

"No! Can you check?" she asked looking up at him. Topher raised an eyebrow, "well you've got the imprint!"

"I told you, you're evolving," he said, typing on the computer, "you gotta figure it out. And your chips might change. I spent all of high school eating those Baked Lays, can't stand 'em anymore," she shook one of the bags, "keep trying. You'll find it."

Claire let out a breath, one of her curls falling across her nose. Topher watched as she crossed her eyes to look at the hair before blowing out a breath, the hair flying in response before falling back onto her nose. Claire groaned and fell backwards until she was laying on the trampoline, her stocking feet dangling off the edge. Topher sighed and stood up, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water nestled among the Red Bulls. He walked over to where Claire was laying looking at the place where the windows met the ceiling. Topher held the bottle towards her.

"I never got why we have windows up here," she said, "windows should look out. Out on trees and parks and babies."

"Okay you're being frighteningly maternal," he said, "well right now they don't look out, they look in. In on a world that almost no-one'll ever see."

"I feel like a fish in a fish tank," she wrinkled her nose, "cept there's no water. Fish need water."

"Ask and ye will receive," Topher said waggling the bottle back and forth. Claire looked up at him, her gaze foggy and far more amused than he had ever seen. So when she reached up he couldn't resist moving the bottle just slightly out of her reach, "ah ah ah, gotta say the magic words."

"Topher," she said, trying to sound like her usual self but only succeeding in sounding whiney as one of her hands came forward to reach out towards the water, her fingers brushing against the bottle but not actually grabbing it, "come on, gimme the water."

Topher looked down at her as she pouted and looked up at him. Pouting. Dr. Claire Saunders was on his trampoline with her curls askew and her polka dotted dress pouting up at him as she looked into his eyes. Topher sighed as he looked at her, wondering exactly what he was supposed to do now. It was just too good an opportunity to pass up. He smiled as he looked down at her, slightly amused at what was going on. Despite the fact that he was slightly troubled by what was going on, he could find amusement in the fact he was on his trampoline looking up at him through the bottle of water. Enough amusement to poke a little fun at her.

"Come on, whatcha gonna say?" he asked, "begins with a P? Rhymes with Leese?"

"Please?" she asked.

Topher opened his hand. Claire's hand streaked out and caught the bottle instantly, her reflexes not dulled at all by the whiskey she had consumed. Topher smirked and turned around, walking back over to the computer, sitting back and focusing on the file in front of his nose.

Not on polka dots.

"Topher?"

Topher raised his eyes to see Claire sitting up, the bottle of water uncapped in her hand. She looked at him and then at the computer before standing up uneasily on her feet. Topher's eyes widened as he jumped to his feet, hurrying around the table to where she was swaying. He reached it quickly, stopping just at the place where if she fell, he'd be able to touch her. But didn't actually touch her, not yet anyway. She looked at the water and then back at him once again.

"This isn't making me feel better," she confided in him.

"Well you gotta give it a couple of minutes!" he said, "haven't you ever--" he stopped as she looked at him, "oh right. Well you have to let it work. Keep drinking. I don't want to explain to DeWitt why you're--" he motioned to her.

"Why I'm wearing polka dots?"

"This isn't about what you're wearing!"

"Then what are you so worried about?" she asked.

He didn't know exactly how to convey the fact that if DeWitt came in and saw Claire Saunders swaying in his room she was going to have a major freak out and then probably wipe Claire and fire him. Or send them both the attic. Either way, there was nothing good that could come of what what was going on at the moment. Despite the fact it was incredibly amusing to witness. Claire let out a rather dramatic sigh and took a long drink of water. She lowered the bottle, pursing her lips as she obviously expected an instantaneous reaction and was equally clearly disappointed when nothing happened.

"Topher," she said. Topher looked at her but she continued, "Christopher. Why didn't you pick Chris?" Topher opened his mouth to tell her he couldn't get into that, "come on. Tell me," she said, "or I can go look it up in your psych profile."

"Oh you're good," he said, "but you want my real psych profile you're gonna have to dust off those hacker skills I imprinted you with," he said with a smirk.

"Already did it," she said flashing him an equally brilliant, triumphant smile.

Topher stopped dead.

"I didn't program you that well," he said slowly, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"You said it yourself. I'm learning, evolving. I learned. I evolved. I found out all about you," she said circling her finger before poking his chest.

Topher looked at the finger in his chest before looking back at him. Suddenly the game wasn't fun anymore. If she got into his file, she knew everything. Everything. It violated every agreement that he had signed, every confidentiality, every everything! If she got into his complete work up she was going to see why DeWitt had described his moral character as 'perfect for the job'. She was going to see why he didn't have a problem programming and wiping people many times a day. Why he thought that contract was clearance. More importantly, why he understood people's needs for a replacement, for someone tailor made to order.

Then she snorted with laughter.

"I'm kidding," she said, "I haven't done it--yet," she continued, "I don't want DeWitt to think I'm like Echo."

Topher exhaled.

Relief must have shown on his face because Claire snorted with laughter, one of her hands clapping over her mouth. The movement was jerky though and it knocked her balance off. Before Topher could quite understand what was happening, Claire had tripped and his position to being able to catch her came in handy.

Suddenly Topher found himself with an armful of polka-dot clad Claire Saunders.

His arms instantly went around her waist. But the position they were in meant she was at an angle and while one of his hands went on her waist, the other went decidedly lower on her hip. Her arms went instantly around his neck, her stocking clad feet not close enough to support her weight fully. Topher looked down at her and she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling brilliantly as the water she had been drinking pooled on the carpet nearby. She looked up at him, her chest rising and falling with the breaths she took. He looked down at her, knowing that his chest was in synch with hers.

"You changed your shampoo," she said.

"Yeah," he echoed, his voice soft.

"You don't smell that bad," she explained, her cheeks flushing pink.

"Ah--" Topher began, quickly moving forward to right her and step away but Claire Saunders had a few tricks up her sleeve and before he quite knew what was happening he was on the ground, trying to breath. Unfortunately Claire was right next to him, not completely the move without tripping herself, "Claire!" he cried, shoving himself up on his forearms.

"I--" she laughed, "I'm sorry," she laughed harder, "you just--" she shook her head, clapping her hands over her mouth in a failed attempt to muffle the sound, "you went down so easily!" she cried laughing harder.

Topher let his forearms slacken and dropped back to the carpet with a groan. Claire laughed harder as he felt one point on the back of his heel ache. One point. Drunk, no imprint and she had knocked him right off his feet without any sort of problem. He really wasn't cut out to be locked in a place surrounded by people who were capable of ninja-style martial arts. He needed a freakin body guard, especially if Claire was going to continue to do this. He turned his head to look at her, still laughing in amusement despite the fact that she was sitting on the floor as well.

Topher tried to hold the last shred of his dignity but laughter was, for better or worse, infectious and he found himself breaking until he laughed as well. Unfortunately that only egged her on until they were both laughing hard on the ground, trying to muffle the noise. Or she was. He was trying to stop laughing period, a highly unsuccessful thing. When they finally stopped laughing, Topher pushed himself into a sitting position and Claire brushed off her dress. He stood up and much to his shock, offered his hand to her. Even more stunning, Claire put her hand in his and let him pull her up to her feet.

"I think--" she yawned, "I'm going to go back to my, um," she snapped her fingers together, "Doctor place."

"Yeah, okay, you do that," he said. She nodded, turning to walk, "oh," she stopped and turned her head, "thanks, for the bed," he added, scuffing his foot against the carpet.

"I did it for your back," she said walking up the stairs. Topher nodded, not saying anything, "so why Topher?" she asked turning and gripping the railing. He looked down, "come on! Tell me why," she said pouting, "i bought you a bed."

Topher knew he shouldn't. He also knew she probably wouldn't remember either. Even more, much to his disgust, he realized he kinda wanted to tell her. Probably for the same reason his bags of chips were laying around them, the massacre of his drawer of inappropriate starches. Also the reason he had changed his shampoo. She saw his resolve weaken as well, as she waited there, her stockinged feet rising and falling against the carpet.

"My brother was Chris," he said, "so I'm Topher."

Claire looked at him. He looked at her, widening his eyes and shrugging his shoulders, waiting for her to say something or interrogate him further. But she just shrugged her shoulders.

"Okay. Night Topher. I'm going back to my Doctor place," she said turning around and walking out of the room.

Topher watched her go.

He really had nothing to say to that.

Please review! Next time Claire's in character and experiences her first hangover, Topher's not sure what he's going to do. Especially when DeWitt calls him in with some surprising news about Claire's contract and the repercussions it has for them all.