He was still there, on the floor, holding the bear – asleep – in the morning.
She stirred, sat up in the bad, and blinked. As she put her feet on the floor to slide them into her slippers, the fact that there was a large bump there shocked her, and so she jumped.
After recovering from the initial surprise of having a large black-and-white thing on her floor, curled up, she crouched down to see what it was.
"…Roger?"
There was no response from the large lump, so she prodded it slightly and tried again.
"…Roger?"
This time, it moved, and sat up.
Roger's eyes widened. "Dorothy?"
"Roger, what are you doing in here?"
"…I… uhm… came to apologize to you. For being so cold-hearted yesterday. I thought you would be awake, but you weren't, and…"
He quickly hid the brown, fluffy bear behind his back.
"…I guess I fell asleep. I was pretty beat. Sorry for causing you a shock."
She chuckled. "That's okay, I was tired too."
…did she just LAUGH?
…she's smiling at me…
Dorothy noticed Roger staring blankly at her, and asked "What is it, Roger?"
"…nothing."
They sat there, Roger on the floor, a teddy bear behind his back, and Dorothy crouched down in front of him, for a moment, each observing the other.
Then., suddenly, Roger jumped to his feet.
"What time is it, Dorothy?"
"…I believe that it is 6:45. Why do you need to know, Roger?"
"SHIT!" Roger yelled, and tore down the hall.
He dropped the bear on the floor.
Dorothy could hear him hurling curses at himself as he changed into his suit as she picked up the bear.
The bear?
She sat there for awhile longer, holding the bear in one hand and staring at it, then took it to go play piano with her.
Roger, meanwhile, was rushing out the door toward the subway at the other side of town.
He jumped into the Griffon with practised ease, turned it on and sped at around 90 MPH toward the subway.
He also checked his watch. 6:55.
Dammit, why did I have to sit there and talk to Dorothy anyhow? It's not as if she has any feeling to make a decent reaction.
Part of him said this, but part rejected it and remembered her tiny chuckle. And, for some reason or another, this latter part of him caused his cheeks to flush red.
He parked the Griffon and began to descend the subway, to go down the tunnel to meet with his client.
A flash of red.
A barcode.
An eye.
My eye?
A room full of identical children.
Am I there?
A feeling of estrangement.
…a teddy bear.
Roger started back from the force of the conflicting emotions that flooded through him. His still-wounded arm was throbbing. He tried to resist a sudden urge to scream, and instead put one foot in front of the other, traveling down the tunnel.
Toward his client.
She was waiting there, at the end of the tunnel, for him. She cackled to herself slowly and took off the red hood.
"I'll kill you, Roger Smith," she said to herself. It was a fact, not an idea. There was no room for debate in her mind.
The tint of the red lights in the subway dyed her white skin crimson, turned her auburn hair into a blazing inferno. It reflected off the black velvet dress and made it seem warm.
The figure of Paradigm City's top Negotiator appeared in the entrance to the passage, and she grinned an evil, sardonic smile.
"…Dorothy?"
Roger was astounded to see his 'maid' waiting for him patiently at the end of the subway.
"…Dorothy, did you follow me?"
There was no response from the girl in black. She looked down at her feet.
"…Mr. Smith, I don't know who you are talking about. I would like to discuss my missing daughter with you. Please come closer."
Hesitatingly, Roger took a step forward.
She grinned at the floor, at the spatter of blood that surrounded her.
"Mr. Smith, I would really like to be able to see you clearly as I talk to you."
This lady is an odd one.
"Listen, I don't have all day, Mrs. Jehovawitz. Just tell me about your daughter and I'll see what I can do."
She looked up.
"My… daughter… has been taken from me by a louse, Mr. Smith. I am intent on getting rid of him, once and for all."
"That's not my job…" Roger replied, faltering at the sight of her eyes. They reflected no light. They were flat, black, and malicious.
"You are right, Roger Smith…" she said, becoming more and more intense, losing the calm edge in her voice. She lifted a gun that had been in her right hand.
"Your job is to die."