Mannequins ~ By Fujin


Chapter 2


When Roger woke up to Dorothy playing the piano in the parlor he groaned, momentarily hiding his face in his pillows. So far she showed no sign of change. Roger sighed, not that he disliked her playing but the thought of waiting for Dorothy to act more human seemed a little more harder to achieve than he previously thought so. Now it seemed to him like a long journey in the Arctic then a pleasant stroll in the park. Well a game was a game. And a mission was a mission. He couldn't give up on her so soon. She just got the books last night. Time would be needed to have Dorothy act like her own person. He would just have to be patient though it was secretly killing him inside.

"I guess I was blinded by my own ambition," he yawned to himself, sitting up in his bed. "Well I can't back out now. Still I wish she would play another song for me to wake up to."

With that the languid negotiator rolled out of bed and proceeded to go along with the morning as usual. He first when to his office though. Moving back the chair, he sat down and gathered a pen and a black journal, not yet used. He rolled the slender pen between his thumb and forefinger as he looked down at the opened book before him. How should he begin?

January 5,

I gave Dorothy a couple of books last night in hopes that she might realize how to act more like a human without mimicking Norman or I. I believe she has finishing reading most of the works I have her. They were just some works on men of science and the human body. I hope she will take them into consideration and follow their theories. So far I have seen no change in her. She still woke me up at 10:00 by playing the piano. From what I think she still must have more time.

Roger put his pen down and though for a moment, pressing the tip of his pen to his lips.

I will give her more books and will continue to keep track of her behavior. She is a great interest to me. This is a great step forward for me to understand her logical mind path as an android.

Roger Smith


He was finished. Putting down his pen, he gathered the ledger in his hand, looking over the neatly written words that were running the width of the paper in neat rows. He had to frown. What he had put on the paper was far from the truth that was in his heart. Dorothy was more than just a great interest to him. He had forgotten to put that she intrigued him. That he could look at her all day and not become bored. That all day everyday she was on his mind. He wanted to understand her more basically not her robotic side-the side that choose her likes and dislikes. What made her happy. What bothered her. Why didn't he put that?

"This is a scientific log," he told himself, closing the book and placing it safely in a drawer. His voice was heavy with ridge discipline. "Not a romantic diary."

~*~*~*~

"Good morning, Roger," Dorothy told him, not even looking up from the piano as she continued to play for a minute more. Her voice was calm and collected as always and that made him frown. Since she was an android, she never looked as if she had a rough night. Each morning she woke up prepared and ready to face a new day. Roger, on the other hand, had to have two strong cups of coffee and a nice shower to be so geared up.

"Morning, Dorothy," he murmured from the doorway of the parlor. He was drinking a cup of coffee and still clothed in his dark pajamas. His hair was far from neat. "Did you sleep well?" It was a shot to carry a human conversation. Though Roger inwardly wanted to smack himself. Why did he have to sound so bloody obvious? Maybe she wouldn't notice how bazaar the question was.

Dorothy glanced over at him, her small white fingers still playing the piano. "Roger, you knew very well that I don't sleep," she told him. "Or what you call 'sleep' anyway."

Roger forced a shrug to cover his curiosity. "Don't you mimic us?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you pretend to sleep?"

"I've never seen a human sleep," she replied, her voice cool. "I don't know where to begin if I choose to pretend a sleep."

He had to except her answer, knowing that he could learn nothing else from her. He knew that she had read the books last night, had a hunch so to speak, but he didn't want to bring it up so distinctly. Dorothy might become unnerved. She still needed time to adjust though Roger could tell that it would take longer than he had previously. With a sigh, he moved away from the doorway, sipping the rest of his coffee.

He shouldn't rush her. Eventually Dorothy would become human more or less. Anyway he'd better report that in the log and be done with the deed.

~*~*~*~


Norman heard humming as he walked down the hallway to the parlor. Sweet and charming humming, as soft of a breeze in the summer time. Immediately he grew alarmed. He paused for a moment, holding his breath to catch the mysterious tones that swam through the air. For a second he thought that something in the basement must have sprung a leak to produce such a soft, purring sound. He turned around, deciding that it must have been coming from under him, but stopped for a second time. The sound was behind him. Becoming confused now, he turned back around and the humming was there to greet him.

"Something must be wrong in the parlor," he murmured to himself. "The radiator must have leakage. I should get that fixed before master Roger comes home."

With a sigh, he placed what he had in his hands on a nearby desk. Even though his employer was not duo for home for several hours, Norman never walked away from a broken pipe or something that needed to be fixed. As a butler is job was to keep Roger's house perfectly clean and flawless no matter wait. He walked to the parlor, wanting to get a first-hand look at where the leak was and how extent was the damage. Then he would fix it, knowing every little detail of the problem. If he wanted to win the war it was better that he fully understand his enemy.

He was unexpected to see Dorothy there was well. He paused for a moment in the threshold to see her dust shelving in the far corner of the room. She cleaned as always but seemed unaware to the leak and the humming sound that was obviously coming from somewhere near her. Surely her ears could pick up the sound.

"Dorothy?"

The humming stopped.

"Yes, Norman?" she asked, turning around to face him.

He cocked his head to a side and listened. He heard nothing. What in the world was going on? First there was humming. Then it stopped almost as mysteriously as if had begun. Was his hearing playing tricks on him?

Dorothy saw his strange reaction. Norman stood in the doorway without speaking with his head at an angle as though he were trying to hear something. She put the duster down on the shelf, confusion passing through her dark eyes. Had he heard her humming? Indeed she knew that it was strange of her to be doing so, but one book she read last night said that whenever one was bored one should hum a familiar tune. Well she hadn't known any familiar tunes and she just hummed a listless melody. Had Norman heard her and was curious of the sound? She whole-hearted hoped not.

"What is wrong, Norman?" she asked.

"It's nothing, Miss Dorothy," the butler replied. Still he did not let up is awkward stance. "I just thought our radiator in here broke a pipe. Didn't you hear a buzzing sound a minute ago?"

Dorothy felt like laughing with joy, so great was her relief. Indeed he had heard her but was obviously befuddled about it. She couldn't blame him. Dorothy quickly controlled the uplifting feeling behind a cold mask before it had to chance to escape and said in a normal voice, "It wasn't the radiator, Norman."

"Really? Then what was it? I thought to fix it before Master Roger comes home tonight."

"I was humming," she replied.

Norman stared at her. She saw the puzzlement in his eyes but wasn't offended by it. Then he seemed to break out of his spell. She smiled a little and blushed, looking down at her idle hands for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Miss Dorothy," he explained, his voice stuttering and surprised. "I didn't know. You have never hummed before...I'm sorry...I wasn't thinking...I'm sorry, Miss Dorothy."

She didn't give in to her urge to laugh because she knew it would hurt his feelings. Laughing, she noticed, even though it was stimulating it could crush a human quite easily. She didn't want to do that to Norman. It was obviously just a minor mistake and nothing more.

"It's all right, Norman," she told him, trying to put some sincerity into her voice that would ease his discomfort. "I don't mind. I've never hummed before. It probably was...horrible."

"Oh, you did it wonderfully," he replied quickly. "I just didn't know what to make of the sound. It has been a long while since I last heard some one hum. I was caught off guard."

Norman saw her smile. It was a small one but so genuine and full of innocence. He had forgotten what a smile look like. It had been so long since the last time he had ever since someone smile. It was...inspiring and he soon caught himself smiling back at her. If he ever thought Dorothy wasn't acting like herself, the notion never came to him. He was glad for her, glad for the change in her. It made her most enduring.

"I'm sorry, Miss Dorothy," he told her again after a moment. "You were doing something before I came. I'll leave you now." With a little bow, Norman turned to leave.

"Norman."

Her voice stopped him. He turned around just in time to see Dorothy put the duster in her belt and walk towards him.

"I'm done with the dusting here," she told him. "May I help you in the kitchen?"

He felt himself smile down at her. He automatically held out his elbow for her to grasp before he even knew what he was doing. "I'd be honor, Miss Dorothy."


~*~*~*~


He knew the mission failed. Miserably. All day Dorothy acted as she always had acted before. Robotic and cold. Roger was learning to come to terms with disappointed. He at least hoped that she would show a spark of character or human emotion but that seemed an impossible wish. When that didn't happen he knew he had risked too much on the game, placed too much value in those books. Besides how could the books tell a robot how to act more of a human? It was back to ground zero again. It seemed such a waste to Roger. He wanted Dorothy to act human. More than he should have. When he left for work later that day, his mood was a black as night and mind obsessed with the losing end of the deal. Not even reminding himself that it was only one day didn't seem to help his disposition.


He didn't tell anyone he was leaving. Her knew Norman was busy in the kitchen and he saw Dorothy dusting in the parlor. As he made for the door he stole a sideways glance at her. He should have kept his eyes to himself. What he saw made in frown with immense disappointment. Dorothy was dusting so apathetically, her movements precise and mechanical while a thick silence was hanging about her. She looked downright bored.

Work passed as it always had and before long he realized it was time for him to go home he went with a heavy sigh. He had completed no work that day, or at least work to be proud of. His mind was endlessly occupied with ways to teach Dorothy to be more human. Should he give her more books to study, more time? Would a movie do a thing? So of course there was no room for work.

The drove home was silent as he sped along the rode to his house. He didn't know what to do. Go along with it seemed to work for him. He couldn't believe that Dorothy had read all those books and still acted as if she was made out of metal. He knew that there was an intelligent brain inside of her. He just wanted it to show.

He took a longer route to get to his house. He needed to be a little bit more in control when he would be at his house. He needed to clear his head from all the pointless worrying that he was torturing himself with. He needed to relax. A nice drive home would have made his nerves settle if it had not been for his restless spirit raging inside of him. His mind refused to leave him any peace. He kept wondering about Dorothy. Odd, he thought he actually might care for her a little bit more than he initially thought he did. If he didn't, why was his thoughts consumed by her face?

It was all very confusing. And being confused didn't set well with the negotiator. It made him frown like the devil and made his attitude all the more unapproachable. He hated being stranded at a crossroads. He just hoped that he didn't run in to Norman when he got home. He wasn't in the mood to explain his tardiness and thoughtlessness in calling. Most of all he was hoping he didn't run into Dorothy.

Roger was an hour late coming home that night. It was 1:00 in the morning when she heard him pull his car up into the driveway and into the garage. Usually he came home at midnight and sat down to eat dinner with her while Norman served them. And if he were going to be late he would call Norman. He was usually thoughtful. Dorothy was strangely nervous ad worried when no one called at 12:30. So was Norman but he didn't voice his concern, only saying that he would stay up to make sure Roger made it home. Dorothy made him change in mind, saying she would be the one who waited. Norman was hesitant, but gave in to his exhaustion and her demand, going to his room after cleaning the kitchen.

She waited in the parlor for Roger. She sat in the darkness, neither bothering with a lamp or a fire to keep her metal body warm, on a couch in her black nightgown. She thought the scene was made for a depressing movie and a horror film, so comical and ironic was the picture. She looked at a widow mourning over a lost husband or a girl about ready to be attacked by a ghost from behind her. She might have laughed a little too but she was too nervous. Her fingers trembled a bit to her confusion. Shook so much that she dared not to turn on a lamp for fear of knocking it over. She wanted to be as quiet as possible.

She couldn't understand why she was so tense in the first place. But she knew it had something to do with Roger. He would usually call home if he intended to be late. When the time passed and he didn't Dorothy had only one thought in mind. He was in trouble. Her first thought was to find him and help him but it was a reckless notion. He could take care of himself. He was a strong and healthy man.

Who was just as handsome.

Dorothy wanted to smack herself for her thoughts of Roger. But they had a mind of their own and forced her to face reality. Of course she found Roger Smith handsome but he was mostly a careless louse and given to be rude and proud at times. A complete imbecile through and through.

But he was also gentle and determined. Dorothy had to give him that with a frown. And along with his good looks came a very comely smile. After the final battle of the MegaDuses, she had to tend to his shot wound. He was bleeding a lot and losing his strength quickly but he was determined to fight. With her assistance he could control Big O, bringing down the enemies. Afterwards, her hands shook as she helped stopped the blood coming from his wound by holding a piece of her dark skirt to the open hole in his arm.

He couldn't help but see her fear. Before she saw him, he placed the back of his cold hand on to her face. She was surprised but didn't move away from his touch. She didn't look at him either.

"Hey," he murmured softly, stroking her face gently. "It's all right, Dorothy. I won't die but you just have to stop the bleeding. Press down as hard as you can to clog the blood flow. You can do it." A pause as his hand gently wiped away a fallen tear. "I trust you."

Dorothy finally looked at him. Her expression was unguarded and she knew he saw the pain and fear in her eyes because he placed his other hand on hers and squeezed. His smile, though small, was enough to make her stop breathing for a moment. Good Lord, he was a beautiful man!

"If you die on me, Roger Smith," she whispered to him. Her voice still trembled but only a little bit. "I'll have 'louse' written on your grave."

After that, she did her best to stop the bleeding.

The sound of an approaching car pulled her from her thoughts. She quickly stood to her feet and hurried to a window that overlooked the street below, pulling back the black curtains. In the shadows, she was a glimpse of Roger walking away from the garage under her and tread quickly to the front door. She couldn't see his expression so she had no idea what he was thinking or what his mood was. But she could definitely see the tension in his shoulders.

He must have had a rough day at work.

Roger had no idea she was there. He closed the front door behind him, locked it, and then laid his keys on a small table nearest to him. With a heavy sigh, he removed his black jacket and loosed his tie that had been choking him all day before taking it completely off as well. He placed his jacket on the hall tree and rubbed the knots out of the back of his neck, unbuttoning his skirt a bit at the same time. He doubted he was going to get any sleep tonight. He was so tense.

Putting his hand in the pockets of his dark slacks, Roger strolled into the parlor. He didn't bother turning on a light thought. As long as the furniture had not been rearranged he could find his way easily in the dark. So far no one was up. He was glad. Maybe he could get into his room without Norman or Dorothy bugging him.

He put too much hope on that thought.

There was a little bar in the corner of the parlor. He fled to it immediately. He didn't drink a whole lot but tonight, after a hellish day, his raw nerves craved it. He didn't care what he drunk just as long as it could numb all his pains and worries. After pouring a small quantity into a tiny glass he threw back his head and swallowed the liquor in one fast gulp, slamming the glass back down on the bar. He clenched his teeth together as the bitter drink slid down his throat, burning his stomach, but it certainly hit the spot. He was pouring himself a not glass of the same drink, this time in a large glass, when he raised his eyes to a mirror and saw a ghost behind him.

Roger's first reaction was calm shock, bringing icy streams of alarm swimming through his hot blood. But the feeling quickly gave away into nothing when he realized it was only Dorothy who stood there. He didn't have anything to be worried about so he finished pouring his drink, took a sip of it, before turning around to face her. He saw her distaste over his drinking thought she didn't openly show it. But he knew she must have been disgusted. It wasn't every day that she saw him like this. He should have been appalled too.

"Roger." Her voice was heavy with calm control.

"What?"

"You're late."

He glanced at his watched and nodded, taking another drink of the liquor. "Seems that way."

"You usually would call if you were staying later than 12:00," she replied.

"Well I didn't want to," he shot back. His voice was angrier then he had wanted it to be. He saw her initial surprise as she took a tiny step back, her hands hiding in the folds of her nightgown. With a sigh he recognized his exasperation and slowly sat down his glass. He ran his hand through his hair testily. "I'm sorry, Dorothy. I've put in a hellish day."

She only nodded, regaining the step she had lost.

"Where is Norman?" he asked after a moment, trying to ease the tension between them. He didn't look at her, but stared down at his drink.

"Sleeping. He needed his rest," she told him. "So I stayed up to wait for you."

He smiled a bit, though out of amusement. "I can take care of myself, Dorothy," he murmuring, drinking a bit more. "I don't need you staying up, waiting for me."

Dorothy rolled her black eyes. "Tell that to Norman. He was worried sick about you because you didn't call."

"Yet, you are the one here with me now?"

"He was exhausted."

"Of course."

"He thought that you were in trouble," she lied.

"If he was so worried he could have contacted me in my car," Roger told her.

"I didn't know how," she admitted after a moment of silence.

Roger looked at her, dumbfounded at her words. But she wouldn't look at him as she stared down at the floor. Her hands where tight fist at her side as she clung to her dark nightgown. He couldn't see her face well because the darkness clouded it like a veil.

"You were the one worried about me?" Surely he had heard her wrong.

He saw her faint nod.

"Why?"

"Because you are an arrogant, pig-headed man, who thinks only of himself before others," she told him. Her voice shook with anger that puzzled him all the more. "I care for you, yes, but I have no idea why. You should have called and saved me from a whole lot of worrying. How hard is it for you to pick up a phone and say that you weren't coming home tonight a little later and say that you were well? If it was hard then you are just as lazy and careless as a pig. I was so nervous and terrified that you might have been hurt or attacked. Big O isn't fixed to fight a battle for another day or so. Why would have happen to you if you needed it? You could have been hurt terribly, you louse. And Norman and I would have no idea!"

His sweet and controlled Dorothy was so carried away by her anger that she didn't even her him approach. Her head was bent down so that her angry words were hurled to the floor. Only when he wrapped him arms about her slender form that she finally stopped condemning him to look up at him, face drained of all color. He felt her stop shaking all most immediately. Roger saw the tears and the pain in her eyes and Dorothy made no attempt to hide her emotions. He was sorry that he had been the one to have done this to her. Gently as possible, he raised his hand and slowly wiped her tears away.

"Roger..." she whispered in a dead murmur as she stared up at him.

Her met her gaze and said with a smile, "You were getting carried away, Dorothy...I don't want you to cry."

She all but stared at him, her black eyes burning holes into his. "It's your own good fault, Roger Smith. You stubbornness and unintelligent arrogance made this change in me."

He laughed a little, earning a dark frown from her.

"Why are you holding me like this?" She sounded a bit breathless to him. Her dark eyes glanced down and saw his arms wrapped tightly about her waist while his hands spanned her back.

"I want to ask you something," Roger replied. His voice was as soft as the silk covers on her bed.

"What is it?"

He bit his lower lip as he straightened his shoulders. "Were you truthful when you said that you cared about me, Dorothy?"

He saw her blush and he could only stare in wonder.

"You know I would never lie...What are you doing?" There was outrage in her voice was she felt him stroke her burning cheek as though he didn't know what to make of her flesh. She fought the urge to slap his hand away. The indecent louse! Did he actually thought he could touch her so affectionately even though he had been on his way to become drunk!?

"I've never seen you blush," he whispered to her. His gently whispered answer took all the rage out of her.

"Oh..." This made her blush all the more. She stared at him in silence; his eyes were seducing her own. They were standing all to close, she noted. Their faces were only inches apart and she could even smell the liquor on Roger's breath. Her blush grew even more when she noticed at her bosom was well nestled against his hard chest. She felt his hand on her back slowly move up her spine and cradle the back of her neck. Immediately a chill went through her, down to her toes.

Dorothy knew that she was allowing Roger too much liberty but wasn't she taking just as much from him? As he held her, her hands were on his hard arms. With nothing but a thin white shirt to clothe his flesh from her palms, she felt the hard muscles under her fingertips, reacting and tightening under her feather-light tough. She could feel his power. But he was being so gentle with her that she couldn't believe his amazing strength lying underneath his appearance. His hands were so soft as he massaged her stiff neck. His warm touch was soon seducing her to want more but she couldn't pull away. Even if she had wanted him to let go of her, she knew her voice wouldn't comply.

"Will you let me go, Roger?" Her voice sounded like a whisper dying to be a scream.

"No."

She looked into his eyes and saw the playfulness in his dark eyes. She didn't know that to make of it. She was speechless for a moment as she stared up at him. Too shocked at his denial to be angry.

"Why not?"

"Because I want to kiss you."

"Kiss me....?"

"Yeah," he drawled out before lowering his face to hers. He brushed his lips softly against hers. He felt her tense a little in his embrace but all he had to do was whisper that she was safe to get her to relax. For a few moments the kiss remained light and fragile as Dorothy absentmindedly wrapped her slender arms about his neck to hold on tight. But all too soon disciple seemed to wither and vanished as the kiss developed and grew passionate. He kissed Dorothy for a few more moments but when he heard her soft whimper and felt her pull him closer to her he had to pull away, breathless and in a daze.

In the silence of the room, he didn't talk as he stared down at her. He didn't think he could if his life depended up it. He noted that Dorothy looked as he felt, in a dreamy stupor. She didn't look like she was even was breathing and her cheeks were still flushed. Truth be told, their kiss was all but settling. He smiled a bit as he looked down at her.

She slowly blinked. "That was...." She began in a small voice, "a surprise."

His smile turned into a grin. "I would guess that you liked it."

"I would guess that you are as arrogant as ever," she replied, frowning at him but with gleaming eyes, silently telling him that she didn't mean her scowl.

He stroked her face again, amazed at how soft and warm it felt against his fingertip. She leaned into his gentle caressing, closing her eyes and purring. She clasped his hand in both of her and slowly rubbed her check against the back of his fingers.

After a moment she opened her eyes and stared up at him, lips still rosy and swollen from the kiss. Her gaze was almost seductive when she said in a husky voice, "But it certainly won't kill me if you kissed me for a second time."

He caught the devious tone in he voice and raised an eyebrow. "Meaning...."

Before he could react, Dorothy placed her hand on the side of his face and drew him close to her. She kissed him with the sincerity and passion that captured his heart but left him immediately breathless and hungry for more. He had to wrap his arms around her waist for fear of falling down, light-headed and dizzy as he was as he pulled her thin body tight against his. Dorothy must have had the same fear because she held on to his neck and didn't let go. After a moment she was the one to pull away, laughing and smiled at his expression over the enthusiastic kiss.

Roger shared her smile, knowing full well how much he was falling in love with her.

~*~*~*~

Norman heard their laughter and offered a nod of approval. Standing on the stairwell, he had heard and he couldn't have been more proud or happy. But he knew he was invading their privacy and after a moment, turned to go back to his room.

"It was about time," he said with a chuckle.


To be continued.....