Watching

"You hateful little man!"

Zulu looked up, craning her neck, noticing the raised voices and the commotion in one of the glass-fronted rooms above her.

"You hateful, hurtful little man!" Dr Saunders, who Zulu had never heard raise her voice above a gentle whisper, was shouting, crying. She was very upset.

"Hey! Hey!!" Topher raised his hands in front of him, defensively. Zulu headed for the stairs, disturbed by the noise. Several of the other dolls had stopped what they were doing.

"What do you think is happening?" November asked her, wide-eyed.

"I think Whiskey did something wrong," Zulu replied, a knot of worry growing in her stomach.

She didn't like this. She felt a little scared. But normally when any of them got scared, they just went to see Dr Saunders, or Topher, and they would take the pain away.

But how could either of them fix this when they seemed so unhappy themselves?

*--*--*

Twelve hours earlier

Marshall collapsed into the sofa, kicking off his shoes and laying back. He closed his eyes, fingers digging into his forehead. He had a tension headache to end all tension headaches.

He was right. He knew he was right.

But how could he be right?

"Hey, you okay sweetie?" Lily said, kneeling behind him and handing him a beer.

Marshall took a swig, but the liquid caught in his throat and made him gag.

"Hey, steady!" His wife said with a tinkling laugh.

He sighed. "Lil…" He said, falteringly. "At work today, I saw something weird. And it made me… think… About stuff."

"About the Dollhouse?" Lily asked with a hint of disapproval. Marshall knew that Ted and Lily thought he was driving himself too hard over it, to the point of unhealthy obsession. He also knew that they missed Robin and Barney too, in their own way. But Ted was burying the pain, Ohio-style, and Lil, she just… Well, she'd said, matter-of-factly, that the three of them had been fine before Barney or Robin had come into their lives and they would be again.

But how could she think that? What if it had been one of them that had been taken by the Dollhouse? What if it had been Ted, or, god forbid, her?

He closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath. "I was in a meeting with John MacBride today," he began.

"Oh my god!" Lily said. "The head of GNB?"

"Actually, he's the CEO of Altrucell. This guy's huge." And intimidating. He scared the crap out of Marshall. In fact, the only guy Marshall could ever remember not being scared by Mr McBride was Barney, who called him "Johnny" and had apparently played golf with the dude. Golf!

"Anyways," Marshall continued, "he was acting really weird. Making these crazy decisions that didn't make sense to anybody. And when he signed a bunch of contracts later, he used his left hand."

Lily looked at him blankly and Marshall had to explain that John McBride used his right hand to make notes through the meeting. And he'd even tackled Billson about it and he had told him that, no, McBride wasn't ambidextrous. "Don't you see what this means?" He said, desperately. Lily shook her head. "He's a doll. I think McBride is a doll." Lily opened her mouth to protest but Marshall waved her down. "No, no, it makes perfect sense. Think about it. If they have the technology to mind-wipe anyone and put in a different personality, they could do that to anyone. Governors, business leaders, even the freakin' president!"

Lily frowned. She even looked a little sad. "Marshall, no… I think you-"

"Lil, don't you see?" He said desperately, willing her to believe him, to support him, just because she was his wife and his best friend. Her shoulders sagged and she gave him a reluctant nod.

"It makes a certain kind of twisted sense, I suppose." She conceded.

"I only wish that Barney was here," Marshall said. "He'd know for sure. And he'd know what to do."

"But he isn't," Lily said, using her most firm school-mistress voice. "And you need to ease up on this Dollhouse thing, Marshmallow! I don't want to lose you too."

He drew her into a hug and held on to her for a long, long while. Perhaps she was right. He didn't want to lose her either. Nor Ted. There had been too many casualties already. Perhaps he should just let it go?

Marshall closed his eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet perfume of Lily's hair.

He didn't see her silently thumb the button on the recording device in her hand. Or the look of satisfaction on her face as she did so.

*--*--*

Six hours later

Topher sauntered into the MedLab with a smirk that could only mean he was cooking up some scheme - probably involving complicated electronic wizardry. Or possibly juice boxes.

Claire sighed and tried her best to ignore him, continuing with her standard post-engagement inspection. She's long since lost her inhibitions about the dolls being naked. They were just bodies that she needed to fix.

Even if some of the bodies were more… interesting… than others.

From a purely medical standpoint.

Some of the males really were excellent examples of the human physique.

(and that's why she spent more time with a certain doll than with all the others, she told herself)

"Happy birthday," Topher said, breaking her concentration. She looked up sharply and scowled at him.

"Topher…" She said, warningly. This was her kingdom and he was an uninvited guest. He didn't seem to take the hint.

"So, what're you doing to celebrate?" Topher grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively until she gave him a stony glare. Celebrate? Did he really think that getting one year older was something to celebrate. "Nah, right. You haven't left for four months. You really should get out more."

She narrowed her eyes. "You read my file? You had no right…"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I had to read it - part of the imprint de-brief when Echo interrogated you."

"Sure…" She turned away from him, just hoping he'd go, just wanting to be left alone with her… work. No one understood. No one knew how hard it was to work with so few medical staff, to be the only full-time doctor here for up to forty dolls. She didn't have time for a personal life.

"I got you a present…" Topher continued, tentatively.

This surprised her. "You- what?"

"It's a surprise…"

*--*--*

Zulu watches as Whiskey's handler takes him up the stairs. She tries smiling at him but there is barely a flicker of interest or recognition. She wonders if this is her fault. Is she not her best?

"Am I not my best?" She mutters.

The handler pauses midway up the staircase and looks back at her. "Is everything okay Zulu?" He asks her.

She nods and smiles. She wants to ask him why… something. Why… something… Why…

She turns around because it is time for her to swim. But she misses… she feels a loss. There was a time when Whiskey would watch her swim.

Now he never watches her at all.

*--*--*

Claire feels his eyes on her and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in the instant before she turns around.

"Heard you could use some help?"

It's him, Whiskey, standing in the doorway while she gives Sierra an exam. It's Whiskey, but not. He's active. She can see the flash of intelligence in his blue eyes, the smirk that gave away the imprint personality. .

Plus he was wearing a white coat.

"Topher sent me. Said you needed an extra hand. It being your birthday and all."

She shook her head, feeling herself flush. She hated dealing with the actives. That's why she always stipulated that they bring her only dolls. She got them only after the wipe had been performed. They were less than children then, totally trusting, totally blank.

Whiskey, like this, standing there and acting like a… man. Winking at her. That, she couldn't cope with.

She also wondered… did Topher know? Did they all know? Had they figured out that she always took special care with Whiskey, spent a little more time, found more excuses to touch him in ways that went beyond a simple medical exam. It wasn't… abuse, exactly. But now she was deeply embarrassed.

And so, perversely, because she was that kind of woman - the kind that bent but didn't break - she smiled shyly and nodded. "Yes… " she said, quietly, hesitantly. "Some help would be wonderful, thank you."

She swallowed. If nothing else, the time would go by so much more quickly with someone else by her side.

*--*--*

They worked together for five hours. Whiskey watched her carefully and he was good at his job, using just the right tone of voice with the dolls and instinctively knowing what she needed exactly when she needed it. That's why it freaked her out so badly when he made a move on her.

Claire was leaning over one of the dolls, Echo, examining a bruise on her back, when Whiskey touched her face.

"A good plastic surgeon could fix that for you, no problem. In fact, I know someone, if you want-"

She pulled away from his fingers, her cheek tingling where they had traced the line of her scar. "Don't-" she said, the word stuttering in her throat. "I don't want-" She swallowed. The touch felt too intimate, too invasive. She didn't want it, she didn't, but at the same time she craved it, from him, from anyone. She just wished…

"Shhh…" He said, hooking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't have to. It doesn't… detract. It doesn't make you any less beautiful…" His words were so sincere, so heartfelt, that for a moment Claire was drawn in, drawn in as easily as one of the Dollhouse's clients.

Then she just felt stupid.

And angry.

Because he was programmed to do this. He had no choice.

No man would ever really want her. Not when she looked like this. Not after Alpha…

She stormed into the imprint room. "You hateful little man!" She growled at Topher. "You hateful, hurtful little man!"

Topher shook his head, baffled by her tears.

"Take him away. Take Whiskey away. That you could think that I'd… share myself so intimately… that I could make love… with a doll! That you could think that… it shows just how sick you are, Topher Brink!"

"But I didn't!" Topher protested. "I swear. That would be… god, that would be gross! I only imprinted him with a basic medical programme. He's not a sex toy. He's just a guy!"

She shook her head, her face still wet with tears.

"Saunders - really, you think I'd-? Crap…"

She shook her head and walked away, with as much dignity as she could muster.

When she got back to the exam room, he, Whiskey, was still there, although he'd sent Echo away. "I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" She hated the sob, the hitch in her voice, the betrayal of her weakness and her despair.

"For touching you. It was… presumptuous."

She shook her head, her lips twitching at his phrasing. "It was…" She said. Although she wanted it… needed it… his touch. "I don't… want the surgery to correct… this." She admitted, sweeping one hand across her scarred face. "I want to remember."

There was a kindness in his eyes that was heart-breaking. "Something tells me that you will never forget. Even if you got the surgery. The man who did that to you… he cut you more deeply than that."

The tears came again. So many tears after so long a dry-spell.

"Hey… hey!" He said, coming to her, putting his arms around her, pulling her to him. She sighed, pressing her face against his chest. He pulled away a little, one finger under her chin, raising her face to his. "You are beautiful. You just have to let yourself believe that."

And then he kissed her.

*--*--*

Zulu watches.

She stands outside the med lab where the door has been left open just a crack and she watches them.

She watches as Whiskey pushes Dr Saunders back onto the exam room table, pushing up her skirt, spreading her legs.

Her eyes go wide as she sees Whiskey tugging at the doctor's underwear, pulling it over her slendar thighs, her knees, over her ankles. She sees his hand disappear beneath the doctor's white lab coat.

She sees the doctor grimace, like she's in pain, but it's a good pain. She sees the doctor cry out as Whiskey pushes her down, as he covers her mouth with his own, as if he's stealing her voice, her breath, her life.

Zulu feels a burn in her belly, between her own legs as she sees Whiskey pull back, settling his body between the doctor's legs and push himself forward, his bottom rising and falling as the doctor throws her head back and cries out.

Zulu watches what happens and struggles to understand.

She watches and watches and feels something new - dissatisfaction, anger, emotions that she's never known.

Jealousy.

And she determines to be her best. Be better. Be the one he notices again.

She can do this.

She can.