Author's Notes: Welcome to the new chapter 4! If you're confused about this, which you're bound to be, please see the updated author's notes in chapter eight, "Healed Wrong." I'll explain everything there.

Mostly I wrote this chapter because I really loved the parallels to Sierra and Victor that Topher drew in "Relapse" (which was written before this one). It was fun to play around with that some more. Enjoy the chapter, dear readers!

The D.C. House doesn't have handlers, per se. Well, there are handlers, but they aren't assigned to any particular active for a long period; Lipman feels that it keeps employees from forming any undue fondness for their charges. It doesn't matter much to Morris; the dolls are all the same, all prewritten scripts and endless discussion of food. They're walking vegetables.

Today he is assigned to Theseus, a shortish, dark haired active who he has supervised before. Lots of R engagements, which are usually boring, although Morris had enjoyed that one where he was a werewolf hunter.

He reviews the engagement parameters-some woman's ex minus the gay-as he leans against the wall in Halverson's office. His ease is feigned; the place is creepy as all hell. It had been bad enough when it was just the girl, with the arm in the sling and the child's voice and the tech that could turn a brain to mush. But now she has company, and that is so much worse.

The kid's just staring. It's weird.

"Remind me again what grouping is," Morris says to the busy Halverson. He looks back at his reading, breaking the accidental staring contest with the active sitting quietly in the corner. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that this doesn't faze the doll at all; the hazy smile doesn't waver.

Halverson, typing away at one of her monitors as Theseus waits calmly in the reclined chair, sighs. "Grouping is two actives showing an inclination towards being with one another in their doll state. I've been over this. That isn't why he's here."

The active in the corner-Hermes-is completely unaware that he's being discussed. But the programmer's speech pulls his attention from Morris and he stares at her instead, blue eyes wide and attentive. It's weird how the dolls don't slump. The kid has been sitting in that stool in that corner for two hours now, unless he went somewhere between now and the last time Morris was in here, and he's in the same place, same position, hands still folded in his lap.

"Ok, then, tell me why he is."

"You won't understand. Really, I preferred when you didn't talk to me."

Morris did, too. "You didn't have a doll hanging around in your office all day then. I'm confused."

"Of course you are," Halverson sniffed delicately.

"Don't talk down to me." He pauses. "Is it confidential?"

"No, it's just difficult." Morris looks up at her with his eyebrows drawn together, letting her know that he's nearing the end of his rope. "To believe in grouping you'd need to believe in persistence of original personality. Which this house does not."

"No way. I think it's you, Halverson. He's grouping with you." Halverson doesn't reply, just continues staring and typing at her computer. Morris puts down the report and walks over to Hermes. The active looks up at him and smiles blankly. "That right, Hermes? How do you feel about Ms. Halverson here?"

"Dr. Halverson is nice. Her treatments make me my best."

"See?" Halverson says, leaning around her computer to glare pointedly at Morris. "Programmed answer. It isn't me."

Morris continues his questioning. "Then why are you here?"

Hermes smiles and turns to the programmer. "Dr. Halverson is nice," he repeats. Halverson ducks back behind her computer and doesn't say a word.

"You say you think he's here because of his original personality," Morris says uneasily, replaying Halverson's technobabble in his head. Halverson rolls her eyes but doesn't bother to correct him. "He's not gonna end up like the freaky L.A. doll, right?"

Halverson bites off a sharp reply, but doesn't answer the question. "Funny you should mention her."

That look is his signal to back off. You don't want to bring down Medusa's wrath, they joke in the break room, but it's a lesson you should take to heart. If the programmer has it in for you, you'll be out of the house in a month at most. Rumor said the glitches that got the last Hephaestus sent to the Attic hadn't been glitches at all, but malicious software programmed into him after his original insulted Halverson before his wipe.

No, not to be trifled with.

He's not going to see what lengths she'll go to to protect her pet doll. The little blond Hermes-only male doll in the house shorter than Theseus, since most of the guys are freakishly tall-seems to wander up here on his own, so if there's anything there it's mutual.

After another minute or so, Theseus rises from the chair, a toothy grin covering half his face. "You the driver?" he says, pointing a finger at Morris.

"That's me."

"Excellent." He rattles off an address that Morris already has programmed into his GPS. "I'm going to visit my girl."

"I'm sure she'll be glad to see you," Morris replies, as the two leave the room, Theseus still chatting happily.

Hermes watches as Morris leaves. "He made you angry," he observes.

Some of the tension leaves the programmer's shoulders. "He did."

"Do you not like him?"

"I don't."

"Then I don't like him, either." Hermes' smile widens, and Halverson dons one to match, happy to see him so pleased with himself.

Halverson rises from her chair and walks over to the seated doll. She places a hand on his head and strokes his blond hair for a moment, then walks to her desk and returns with a glazed pottery bowl.

"Would you like some wasabi peas, Hermes?"

He takes the bowl from her and lifts one to his mouth. "Thank you, Dr. Halverson."

Two days later, Morris will remember his conversation with Halverson and decide to snoop around some more. He'll look up Hermes' file in the database and find most of the normal paperwork: health reports from the doctor, physical profile, list of engagements, client statistics. The only form missing will be the all-important deal with the devil, the consent form on which the actives sign away the next five years. He'll close the file with a snap and push Hermes and Halverson out of his mind, knowing that he doesn't want to get involved.

Three weeks later, Morris will be sent to the Attic for inappropriate behavior towards the active Theseus.