chapter3 ~-=Curse of the Flesh=-~
A Big O fanfiction by Grendel226 a.k.a. Arren Dracone

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Big O or any of the characters. All are property of Sunrise and their respective parties. This fanfiction is rated R for mildly disturbing images, mild violence and adult situations. As always comments are appreciated, and flames will incur my wrath. ;-) Note: Asterisks denote a major jump in time and/or location.

Chapter 3:
A Dangerous Game

Roger sat in the chair, his head heavy. A migraine had set in from lack of sleep, but he kept his vigil determined to find out the extent of the damage done to Dorothy. The lobby of Gentronix Androids Incoroporated, the more reputable of the companies that Dan Dastun had suggested had become Roger's haunt for the past forty-eight hours. Specialists had taken the deadweight android from him and had disappeared behind pristine glass doors. Roger's entire body seethed. He wanted nothing more than to take retribution on Del for his actions. He hated himself for not handling the overall situation with more grace; he was after all, the city's top negotiator. He even detested the lobby of Gentronix. It resembled the lobby of a large corporate office covered in plate glass windows with an enormous jade plant sprouting from a gray brick planter in the middle of the foyer. The secretaries who sat at the front reception desk would occasionally glance at him, but they went unnoticed. His eyes shifted uneasily from the vaulted glass ceiling and the gray sky overhead to the doors through which Dorothy had disappeared. His chin had become scruffy from the absence of a razor and his clothes were rumpled. But his appearance was the last thing on his mind.

Six hours later, Roger was escorted through the doors and into what looked like a boardroom. He was greeted by a lone white-haired scientist who neglected to offer his name to Roger. "The man who worked on her was clearly a genius," the man rasped. "He's used a silicone based cell system to create skin capable of utilizing touch receptors. And her structure has been reworked using fiberglass with ballasts at the normal human centers of balance. Of course you knew about the emotion chip and the rolling memory." Roger's head throbbed as he tried to make sense of everything he had been told. "So, she's not damaged?" "Well," the scientist rasped coughing slightly, "it was quite an ordeal for her. She has lost some of her basic memory functions." "She doesn't remember anything?" "No no…when I say basic functions, I mean basic functions such as walking and talking. As well as what ever happened at that shop. You might call it an android form of post-traumatic stress disorder. This is probably the reason she was so inactive when you found her. We reprogrammed her with all the basic knowledge she seemed to be missing. She has in fact been asking for you if that's a comfort." While it was a small comfort Roger was still struggling to make sense of it all. "Then is she…" he struggled for the right word, "Damaged?" The scientist laughed. "Damaged? No not at all. More human though. Almost as human as you or I. There are still obviously artificial aspects but she now appears to be in possession of an almost completely functional female body. Naturally she lacks mitochondria so her body will not undergo changes as a body normally would. She does now have a functional blood system now, but that of course is also synthetic and regenerating based on a time lapse. But otherwise it would appear this con job has made her as close to human as I will ever see an android. Her original creator and this misanthrope Del knew their craft." Roger nodded, feeling weary with relief while questions still plagued his mind. "You can see her now" the old scientist prompted. Before he went in the door, Roger turned to the old scientist. "Why did she appear to be in such pain when she came in?" The scientist stared at his shoes for a moment as if inspecting them and then stared at Roger through wrinkled eyes. "We don't know how the touch receptors for the grafted skin was tested. But it is clear she can experience pain." Roger's heart sank. Had Del tortured her, or worse? The need for revenge threatened to overtake him again when the scientist pushed the door open and his eyes met Dorothy's. She was sitting upright in what appeared to be a hospital bed. Her skin was still pallid but he knew that now it was capable of sensing as acutely as his own flesh was. She blinked at him as he sat in the chair beside her bed. "Dorothy," he said in greeting, hoping the bruises on his lips were faded enough that they would not recall unpleasant memories for her. "I dislike my attire," she stated almost accusingly. The corners of his lips twitched into a smirk. She was clad in a paisley hospital gown that was open in the back, exposing her bare shoulders. The unruly and tasteless garment would reveal more unless she kept her back to the pillow. Roger found himself chuckling. "I find it rather attractive," he said with a dry smile. She turned away from him and stared at the wall straight ahead. "You're a louse, Roger Smith."

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The Griffon roared up in front of Roger's mansion and the pair stepped out to be greeted by Norman. "Miss Dorothy! I'm so glad to see you are safe." Dorothy smiled at Norman and gave him an experimental hug in greeting. Roger scowled. He hadn't been given nearly as affectionate a greeting. In fact, she had called him a louse. But she was home. Norman had reached in the trunk to take the bag that Dorothy had left Gentronix with that carried spare parts in case of a malfunction. "That won't be necessary Norman, I am perfectly capable of…" Roger peered behind the car and was shocked by what he saw. Dorothy sat on the ground with a stunned look on her face, the bag sitting in front of her. She had underestimated the weight of the bag and possibly overestimated her strength. Her new frame was still strong but not equal to the steel frame she had previously sported. An adjustment she would have to become used to. Norman helped the perplexed android up and then collected the bag, quickly disappearing into the house. "I must make a note of this new weakness," Dorothy said with careful consideration. "My strength has been diminished. I certainly hope that not many more mishaps accompany this transformation." But her miscalculation of her strength was only the beginning. She had helped Norman in the kitchen many times prior to her transformation, but never had she taken human objectives into consideration. Roger skidded downstairs and into the kitchen upon hearing a yelp of pain and found Dorothy nursing a pair of burned hands, the soufflé she had attempted to remove from the oven still bubbling on the rack. "I am aware of the heat but unused to sensing it," she said in an apologetic tone upon noticing Roger in the doorway. Roger called Gentronix to find out the healing processes for silicone graft skin, and Norman bandaged her hands and gently introduced her to the concept of hot pads. Dinner lead to a second fiasco as she was actually able to taste food for the first time. However, she chose the same soufflé that had scarred her hands earlier and this time chose to char her tongue by taking a heaping bite before it had cooled. Roger had to hide his mirth and his concern but relished watching her experience so many new things for the first time. "Dinner was exquisite Norman," Dorothy remarked as she helped to clear the table. "I do believe I am developing a somewhat illogical dislike of soufflé," she added tartly as she examined her bandaged hands. Roger was trying to imagine what all this sudden transformation could be like for her. She had known about so many different human sensations yet had never been subjected to them before, and now her newly implanted sensors let her experience the world in entirely new dimensions.

They stood on the balcony for an after dinner conversation and the third mishap of the day occurred. Dorothy balanced precariously on the balcony when a gust of wind caught her. She teetered a moment and Roger rushed forward to steady her. His hands rested on her waist to balance her on her perch, until moments later she wearily stated, "I believe this has become precarious since my balance has been impaired." Stepping off the railing she turned to face Roger and scowled pensively. "The sensation of touch is an intriguing one. I must confess this new frame is not to my liking, however." "Yes," Roger replied choosing his words carefully, "I can see its disadvantages." "It is not without advantages," replied Dorothy, her eyes never leaving his as she ran a finger gently across his still slightly swollen lips. Roger bit his tongue. He hoped she had not remembered the kiss. He had secretly wished that would be part of her memories that were lost. He tilted her chin lightly with his hand and pressed his fingers to the warmth of her cheek. Warmth…a property that had been alien to her until now. She felt so real. So perfectly human. Perfectly human? But aren't humans the imperfect ones? He mused momentarily. Dorothy still had many of the perfections of an android, but now bore many characteristics of humanity. She was a paradigm, much like the city: a set, which now contained an alien yet particular element. Dorothy leaned in against him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. Roger steeled himself preparing for a bold statement. "Yes." The only word to escape his lips. "Yes? Your sentences appear to be fragmented Roger. Perhaps you should take less wine at dinner." He shook his head in exasperation, "No, I mean your question. Do you remember your question Dorothy?" Dorothy's eyes became a void as she turned her head to look out at the city. "I fully remember my question. But we have not lost our memories and therefore my question lacks validation." Roger's mind moved like a steel trap. He wouldn't let her evade his question tonight. "But I don't remember a time when you have looked more beautiful. And I don't remember a time when I didn't think about you. So I guess you could say I've lost my memories of what life was like without you." Dorothy turned her head back to him and stared at him with her obsidian eyes. "You are sly Roger Smith. It appears my question is valid under your circumstances." "And you, Dorothy Waynewright have received the answer to your question. Yes." Her eyes were filled with confusion, anticipation, and uncertainty as he pulled her close to him and again gently tilted her chin up so their gaze met. Carefully, Roger leaned forward not wanting to repeat the errors of their last encounter. His lips brushed lightly against hers and her eyelids fluttered shut as she tried to comprehend the new tactile sensations of a body close to hers and emotions she had never experienced. To his surprise and delight she returned his kiss, her lips parting slightly to grant him the intimacy he hoped for. Their kiss deepened and her senses swam. This was a dangerous game she played. Succumbing to human emotions would seem to push her further away from the perfection she had known. But at the same time it opened the door to her for a new perfection, which she could have never known. She felt consumed by the moment and desperately tried to return Roger's affections, unsure of the situation and the proper reaction. Roger relished the feeling of her lips against his…her body so close that he could feel every curve against him. The kiss was awkward but he reminded himself that this situation was alien to her. She would learn, and he would not be unnerved by the situation. He was after all a negotiator. "Sir?" Roger reluctantly pulled away from Dorothy to find Norman standing at the balcony door. Quickly, Roger tried to regain his composure and straightened his suit. "Yes?" "A phone call for you sir, Mr. Dastun." Roger suddenly had the urge to hang up on Dan but stalked into the building and took up the receiver. "It better be good, Dan. What? Where was it? I'll be in touch." Putting the phone back on the hook he turned to find Dorothy staring quietly at him. "That was Dan Dastun," he stated unnecessarily. Dorothy waited patiently for information that she had not already ascertained. "They found Del's body floating in the harbor. He's been dead for a few days." Dorothy seemed to be staring past Roger as she quietly repeated, "Del, dead?" "It would seem you and I are the prime suspects since we were the last people to see him, and we were dissatisfied with him at the time." Dorothy nodded quietly and retreated to her room, and Roger collapsed into bed. This truly was a dangerous game.