The night crept on slowly as Dorothy reflected. She turned to look at the clock. It told her that is was three o' clock in the morning. And since the clock had never lied to her before, she assumed that Roger and Norman were probably fast asleep.
Dorothy pinched the synthetic flesh on her arm, and there was no pain at all. Dorothy almost forgot she was an android when Roger was whirling her around the dance floor. He seemed so proud to be with her in front of all those jealous men, their dates snickering and gossiping in her direction. She had gotten dressed up and rouged her cheeks...for a moment she was not a doll.
As they danced, Dorothy heard comments like, 'Who is she?' 'She looks so young.' 'I heard she is a professional dancer giving Smith lessons.'
Dorothy found the dancing rumor amusing. She highly doubted Roger would willingly admit to a teacher of any kind that he couldn't dance. He would never hire a teacher! Dorothy, in that moment, also found it amusing that she could read Roger's mind with such little effort.
Finding she had nothing better to do, Dorothy wandered from her bedroom and into the kitchen. She would often do this, sitting on the counter by the large window, which was above the sink, to look at the few passing cars and people that were still awake.
Dr. Wayneright had always told Dorothy that nothing good wandered around after dark, but Dorothy disagreed as a young couple walked by. The young lady had a plastic tiara on that read Happy Birthday, and the young man had his arm around her. Dorothy couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but she could hear their laughter.
The man leaned down and kissed the girl softly. It was short and simple, but it made Dorothy think. Roger had kissed her like that, only it wasn't on her lips. Did that mean he cared about her? Could Lalia have been right?
Just as her thoughts began to carry her in that direction, she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat coming from the doorway of the kitchen. There stood Roger, all decked out in his black robe and gray slippers...the fluffy ones...
"What are you doing up Roger?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, but avoided eye contact with her.
"I just couldn't sleep. Sometimes my thoughts get in the way."
"Well, what were you thinking about? Maybe if you talk about your thoughts they will leave you alone."
"I'm not good at talking about my thoughts. It's one of the only flaws I don't mind having. My thoughts are probably better off where they are."
There was a moment of silence, and then Roger cleared his throat again.
"Do you need a cough drop?"
"No."
"Why do you keep making that noise?"
"Because it makes me feel better."
"How?"
"Why are you so curious? It's not like it will benefit you. After all..."
Roger stopped himself mid-sentence. He was about to make a snide android comment. Just when they had come so far!
DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!
"Go on Roger...I know what you want to say."
Dorothy's voice was so cold. He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose or not. He sighed and smiled.
"I forgot what I was going to say."
Dorothy thought to herself,
'Smoooooooooooooothe.'
"So tell me Dorothy, what do you find so interesting about the kitchen counter?"
"It's not the counter that is interesting, Roger. There are so many things beyond that window that interest me. Do you see those two people?"
Roger looked out the window as a young couple sat down on a bus stop bench in front of his mansion. The woman looked into the man's eyes, and they kissed.
"What about them?"
"What makes them love each other? What drives it? Is it just that they enjoy each other's company or that they were supposed to meet?"
"Those are some questions that I'm afraid no one will be able to answer perfectly."
"So does that mean no one ever figures it out?"
"I suppose when you fall in love yourself it becomes more clear. But there are a lot of different opinions on the subject. Some people believe it's fate and others believe there is no such thing."
"What do you believe Roger?"
Nobody had ever asked him such a question. He let the question sink in for a moment, trying to find the right answer to give Dorothy. He didn't want to confuse her, but Roger assumed she'd be a little confused no matter what he said.
"I believe that when two people meet, they find things in the other person that they enjoy; things they don't have themselves. And these things make them whole."
"But do you believe in fate?"
"No. I think it is the responsibility of people to live their lives according to their own script."
Dorothy pondered these ideas. Roger then said,
"Is this what you think about when you come to sit here in the ungodly hours of the morning?"
"Yes."
"Well, what do you believe Dorothy?"
She wanted to give him a good answer, so she took a moment to think.
"I believe someday I will make someone whole."
The two outside the window got on their bus and left. Dorothy slid off the counter.
"Sleep well, Roger."
"You too."
Dorothy turned around to look at him at the doorway.
"You know I don't need to sleep. It's not necessary for me to function."
"You should sleep anyway, Dorothy. It's nice to dream once in a while."
With that, she turned and walked back to her bedroom.
Dorothy looked at the large bed. The drawers that were placed at the wall next to the bed were dusty. She only had one dress, so they were not used. Dorothy never had an urge to look in them until now.
She opened the bottom drawer. It was empty. The next was the same. The only drawer that had anything in it was the top drawer, the underwear drawer.
A black and red nightgown and a picture of Roger and Lalia eating dinner were the only things in the drawer. In the picture, Roger was in a tuxedo, and Lalia wore a red silk dress with a plunging neckline.
Dorothy suspected that Roger must have hated the dress because it wasn't black. Or were the rules different when Lalia was around?
Dorothy picked up the nightgown. Under it was a matching robe. She held the nightgown up in front of her and it looked like it would fit. Dorothy slipped the black dress off and folded it neatly. She put it in the second drawer.
'It might get wrinkled.' she thought.
So Dorothy walked across the room to the closet, which she had also never opened. When she slid the door open, her eyes widened. Over two dozen stunning outfits hung, untouched and abandoned.
Among them was the red dress from the picture, the only red piece of the clothing to be found. It looked even more beautiful up close.
Dorothy found a hanger in the back of the closet and hung up her black dress. She put it in the back. With all of these clothes available to her, she wouldn't need to wear the black one every single day.
Dorothy slipped on the black and red nightgown and it fit her beautifully. The nightgown was black until the top, which was adorned with red lace in a floral pattern. The spaghetti straps sat gracefully on her shoulders. She took the matching robe from the drawer and hung it over the end of her bed. The robe had long, dangling sleeves and a butterfly on the right side.
Dorothy laced up the back of the nightgown and put the picture of Lalia and Roger out on the dresser, wiping the dust away. She slipped under the perfectly made covers, and closed her eyes. Dorothy silently prayed to any deity that was listening to give her a dream, and sleep overwhelmed her man-made senses.
...The next morning Roger opened his eyes to find that he had only gotten five hours of sleep. It was seven o' clock and he couldn't fall back asleep, so he got up and took a quick shower.
Roger got dressed, and after making sure every hair atop his head was in place, he stepped into the dining room for breakfast. To his surprise, however, Norman was waiting alone. Dorothy would usually help Norman prepare breakfast, but this morning her chair sat empty.
"Norman, where's Dorothy?"
"I went in to check on her this morning when she didn't come to help me with breakfast, and she was asleep sir."
"Asleep?"
"Yes sir."
"Her eyes were closed?"
"Yes sir, they were indeed closed."
"Was she above the covers or under them?"
"Under sir."
"::UNDER:: them?"
"Yes sir. Under them."
...Dorothy awoke gently. Her dreams slipped away, but it didn't matter. She had had them, that was all that mattered to her. Someone had finally listened to her, and it was the unnamed God.
Dorothy then realized that she might have missed breakfast! She climbed out of bed and quickly made it. She grabbed the robe at the foot of her bed and tied it around her slender waist. Dorothy quickly combed her hair and walked out of her bedroom in the direction of the dining room.
Roger heard Dorothy's door open and close and heard her footsteps. He looked at the floor as he shoved another fork-full of eggs into his mouth, and said through the tasty breakfast,
"Well, good morning sleepy..."
It was then that his eyes made contact with her feet...there was nothing covering them...she was barefoot...her toes were painted red. His least favorite color!
Then he looked up and his jaw dropped! Norman tried not to stare, but it wasn't easy. Dorothy was wearing Lalia's nightgown, and it looked better on her than it ever did Roger's ex-girlfiend. She was wearing the nightgown that Lalia would wear when they would...
...It was Roger's favorite...
AND IT WAS ON DOROTHY!
A million and one thoughts raced through Roger's mind, but only one made it to his mouth...
"You look beautiful!"
Dorothy lifted the right corner of her mouth in a flirty sort of way and said,
"You're a louse, Roger Smith."
She went to sit at her spot and the other end of the table. Roger got up and pulled out her chair for her. He had forgotten how heavy she was when he tried to push her back in, so with a little help from the deceivingly dainty lady in the chair, they got the job done.
The phone rang, and Norman stepped out to answer it. Before Roger could get a word in about how much fun he had had with Dorothy the night before, Norman walked back in.
"That was miss Lalia calling for you Dorothy."
"Yes, I expected that. We're meeting for brunch at ten o' clock."
"Well, she was calling to inform that she was in the elevator of the mansion and will be here any..."
The bell rang.
"...Moment..." Norman finished as he went to let her in.
Lalia walked up the stairs with a little less bounce in her step than she usually had. She had been planning comfortable conversation ever since she had realized...
When Lalia saw Dorothy all decked out in her nightgown, her jaw hit the floor. Dorothy was wearing her ::underwear:: and it looked STUNNING on her!
It was just then that Roger realized why Lalia was looking at Dorothy with such contempt.
"Oh, well, now I remember where I left that nightgown." Lalia said, looking a little hurt.
Roger was about to say something, but Dorothy beat him to it.
"I hope you don't mind Lalia. But you see, I had only one dress and one nightgown. I took them to the cleaners and I got them back all torn up. I went rummaging through my room and found some of your old things. I was hoping I could borrow them until I had a chance to buy new ones."
Roger was speechless. Dorothy had just ::lied:: to Lalia...it was a good lie too! He didn't know she could do that.
"Oh, well if that's the case I guess I don't mind. I had actually forgotten they were here. Why don't you just keep them? I haven't had them in two years, I guess I don't need them."
"Thank you Lalia. That's very kind of you. I'll just get dressed and we'll be off."
"Do you want my help Dorothy?"
"That's ok, I'm sure I can handle it. I won't be a minute."
"Take your time."
When Dorothy's door clicked shut down the hall, the dining room became overwhelmed with awkward silence. Roger half expected a tumbleweed to make its way across the table.
She finally spoke up.
"So, I see Dorothy is really happy here."
"She seems to be." Roger replied after a sip of coffee and a bite of his now cold eggs.
"What was that whole thing last night?"
"What thing?"
"Oh come now Roger. You were romancing her!"
"So what if I was?"
Before Lalia could reply, Dorothy walked out of the bedroom. She was wearing a short, lavender skirt with a low cut blouse that impressively flattered her breasts. Roger would have criticized it for not being black, but was stunned into silence by Dorothy's shapely figure. He had never really seen it before when it was hidden beneath the dreary uniform he had forced her to wear.
Lalia and Dorothy walked out with nothing more exchanged than a glance.
HEY! I MISSED YOU GUYS! Life has been crazy. It's going to be another long while I'm afraid before the next chapter because I'm moving in three weeks, but I'll do my absolute best. Feel free to gimme reviews and to e-mail me directly at STAY TUUUUNED!
Tori
Dorothy pinched the synthetic flesh on her arm, and there was no pain at all. Dorothy almost forgot she was an android when Roger was whirling her around the dance floor. He seemed so proud to be with her in front of all those jealous men, their dates snickering and gossiping in her direction. She had gotten dressed up and rouged her cheeks...for a moment she was not a doll.
As they danced, Dorothy heard comments like, 'Who is she?' 'She looks so young.' 'I heard she is a professional dancer giving Smith lessons.'
Dorothy found the dancing rumor amusing. She highly doubted Roger would willingly admit to a teacher of any kind that he couldn't dance. He would never hire a teacher! Dorothy, in that moment, also found it amusing that she could read Roger's mind with such little effort.
Finding she had nothing better to do, Dorothy wandered from her bedroom and into the kitchen. She would often do this, sitting on the counter by the large window, which was above the sink, to look at the few passing cars and people that were still awake.
Dr. Wayneright had always told Dorothy that nothing good wandered around after dark, but Dorothy disagreed as a young couple walked by. The young lady had a plastic tiara on that read Happy Birthday, and the young man had his arm around her. Dorothy couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but she could hear their laughter.
The man leaned down and kissed the girl softly. It was short and simple, but it made Dorothy think. Roger had kissed her like that, only it wasn't on her lips. Did that mean he cared about her? Could Lalia have been right?
Just as her thoughts began to carry her in that direction, she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat coming from the doorway of the kitchen. There stood Roger, all decked out in his black robe and gray slippers...the fluffy ones...
"What are you doing up Roger?"
He shrugged nonchalantly, but avoided eye contact with her.
"I just couldn't sleep. Sometimes my thoughts get in the way."
"Well, what were you thinking about? Maybe if you talk about your thoughts they will leave you alone."
"I'm not good at talking about my thoughts. It's one of the only flaws I don't mind having. My thoughts are probably better off where they are."
There was a moment of silence, and then Roger cleared his throat again.
"Do you need a cough drop?"
"No."
"Why do you keep making that noise?"
"Because it makes me feel better."
"How?"
"Why are you so curious? It's not like it will benefit you. After all..."
Roger stopped himself mid-sentence. He was about to make a snide android comment. Just when they had come so far!
DAMN IT ALL TO HELL!
"Go on Roger...I know what you want to say."
Dorothy's voice was so cold. He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose or not. He sighed and smiled.
"I forgot what I was going to say."
Dorothy thought to herself,
'Smoooooooooooooothe.'
"So tell me Dorothy, what do you find so interesting about the kitchen counter?"
"It's not the counter that is interesting, Roger. There are so many things beyond that window that interest me. Do you see those two people?"
Roger looked out the window as a young couple sat down on a bus stop bench in front of his mansion. The woman looked into the man's eyes, and they kissed.
"What about them?"
"What makes them love each other? What drives it? Is it just that they enjoy each other's company or that they were supposed to meet?"
"Those are some questions that I'm afraid no one will be able to answer perfectly."
"So does that mean no one ever figures it out?"
"I suppose when you fall in love yourself it becomes more clear. But there are a lot of different opinions on the subject. Some people believe it's fate and others believe there is no such thing."
"What do you believe Roger?"
Nobody had ever asked him such a question. He let the question sink in for a moment, trying to find the right answer to give Dorothy. He didn't want to confuse her, but Roger assumed she'd be a little confused no matter what he said.
"I believe that when two people meet, they find things in the other person that they enjoy; things they don't have themselves. And these things make them whole."
"But do you believe in fate?"
"No. I think it is the responsibility of people to live their lives according to their own script."
Dorothy pondered these ideas. Roger then said,
"Is this what you think about when you come to sit here in the ungodly hours of the morning?"
"Yes."
"Well, what do you believe Dorothy?"
She wanted to give him a good answer, so she took a moment to think.
"I believe someday I will make someone whole."
The two outside the window got on their bus and left. Dorothy slid off the counter.
"Sleep well, Roger."
"You too."
Dorothy turned around to look at him at the doorway.
"You know I don't need to sleep. It's not necessary for me to function."
"You should sleep anyway, Dorothy. It's nice to dream once in a while."
With that, she turned and walked back to her bedroom.
Dorothy looked at the large bed. The drawers that were placed at the wall next to the bed were dusty. She only had one dress, so they were not used. Dorothy never had an urge to look in them until now.
She opened the bottom drawer. It was empty. The next was the same. The only drawer that had anything in it was the top drawer, the underwear drawer.
A black and red nightgown and a picture of Roger and Lalia eating dinner were the only things in the drawer. In the picture, Roger was in a tuxedo, and Lalia wore a red silk dress with a plunging neckline.
Dorothy suspected that Roger must have hated the dress because it wasn't black. Or were the rules different when Lalia was around?
Dorothy picked up the nightgown. Under it was a matching robe. She held the nightgown up in front of her and it looked like it would fit. Dorothy slipped the black dress off and folded it neatly. She put it in the second drawer.
'It might get wrinkled.' she thought.
So Dorothy walked across the room to the closet, which she had also never opened. When she slid the door open, her eyes widened. Over two dozen stunning outfits hung, untouched and abandoned.
Among them was the red dress from the picture, the only red piece of the clothing to be found. It looked even more beautiful up close.
Dorothy found a hanger in the back of the closet and hung up her black dress. She put it in the back. With all of these clothes available to her, she wouldn't need to wear the black one every single day.
Dorothy slipped on the black and red nightgown and it fit her beautifully. The nightgown was black until the top, which was adorned with red lace in a floral pattern. The spaghetti straps sat gracefully on her shoulders. She took the matching robe from the drawer and hung it over the end of her bed. The robe had long, dangling sleeves and a butterfly on the right side.
Dorothy laced up the back of the nightgown and put the picture of Lalia and Roger out on the dresser, wiping the dust away. She slipped under the perfectly made covers, and closed her eyes. Dorothy silently prayed to any deity that was listening to give her a dream, and sleep overwhelmed her man-made senses.
...The next morning Roger opened his eyes to find that he had only gotten five hours of sleep. It was seven o' clock and he couldn't fall back asleep, so he got up and took a quick shower.
Roger got dressed, and after making sure every hair atop his head was in place, he stepped into the dining room for breakfast. To his surprise, however, Norman was waiting alone. Dorothy would usually help Norman prepare breakfast, but this morning her chair sat empty.
"Norman, where's Dorothy?"
"I went in to check on her this morning when she didn't come to help me with breakfast, and she was asleep sir."
"Asleep?"
"Yes sir."
"Her eyes were closed?"
"Yes sir, they were indeed closed."
"Was she above the covers or under them?"
"Under sir."
"::UNDER:: them?"
"Yes sir. Under them."
...Dorothy awoke gently. Her dreams slipped away, but it didn't matter. She had had them, that was all that mattered to her. Someone had finally listened to her, and it was the unnamed God.
Dorothy then realized that she might have missed breakfast! She climbed out of bed and quickly made it. She grabbed the robe at the foot of her bed and tied it around her slender waist. Dorothy quickly combed her hair and walked out of her bedroom in the direction of the dining room.
Roger heard Dorothy's door open and close and heard her footsteps. He looked at the floor as he shoved another fork-full of eggs into his mouth, and said through the tasty breakfast,
"Well, good morning sleepy..."
It was then that his eyes made contact with her feet...there was nothing covering them...she was barefoot...her toes were painted red. His least favorite color!
Then he looked up and his jaw dropped! Norman tried not to stare, but it wasn't easy. Dorothy was wearing Lalia's nightgown, and it looked better on her than it ever did Roger's ex-girlfiend. She was wearing the nightgown that Lalia would wear when they would...
...It was Roger's favorite...
AND IT WAS ON DOROTHY!
A million and one thoughts raced through Roger's mind, but only one made it to his mouth...
"You look beautiful!"
Dorothy lifted the right corner of her mouth in a flirty sort of way and said,
"You're a louse, Roger Smith."
She went to sit at her spot and the other end of the table. Roger got up and pulled out her chair for her. He had forgotten how heavy she was when he tried to push her back in, so with a little help from the deceivingly dainty lady in the chair, they got the job done.
The phone rang, and Norman stepped out to answer it. Before Roger could get a word in about how much fun he had had with Dorothy the night before, Norman walked back in.
"That was miss Lalia calling for you Dorothy."
"Yes, I expected that. We're meeting for brunch at ten o' clock."
"Well, she was calling to inform that she was in the elevator of the mansion and will be here any..."
The bell rang.
"...Moment..." Norman finished as he went to let her in.
Lalia walked up the stairs with a little less bounce in her step than she usually had. She had been planning comfortable conversation ever since she had realized...
When Lalia saw Dorothy all decked out in her nightgown, her jaw hit the floor. Dorothy was wearing her ::underwear:: and it looked STUNNING on her!
It was just then that Roger realized why Lalia was looking at Dorothy with such contempt.
"Oh, well, now I remember where I left that nightgown." Lalia said, looking a little hurt.
Roger was about to say something, but Dorothy beat him to it.
"I hope you don't mind Lalia. But you see, I had only one dress and one nightgown. I took them to the cleaners and I got them back all torn up. I went rummaging through my room and found some of your old things. I was hoping I could borrow them until I had a chance to buy new ones."
Roger was speechless. Dorothy had just ::lied:: to Lalia...it was a good lie too! He didn't know she could do that.
"Oh, well if that's the case I guess I don't mind. I had actually forgotten they were here. Why don't you just keep them? I haven't had them in two years, I guess I don't need them."
"Thank you Lalia. That's very kind of you. I'll just get dressed and we'll be off."
"Do you want my help Dorothy?"
"That's ok, I'm sure I can handle it. I won't be a minute."
"Take your time."
When Dorothy's door clicked shut down the hall, the dining room became overwhelmed with awkward silence. Roger half expected a tumbleweed to make its way across the table.
She finally spoke up.
"So, I see Dorothy is really happy here."
"She seems to be." Roger replied after a sip of coffee and a bite of his now cold eggs.
"What was that whole thing last night?"
"What thing?"
"Oh come now Roger. You were romancing her!"
"So what if I was?"
Before Lalia could reply, Dorothy walked out of the bedroom. She was wearing a short, lavender skirt with a low cut blouse that impressively flattered her breasts. Roger would have criticized it for not being black, but was stunned into silence by Dorothy's shapely figure. He had never really seen it before when it was hidden beneath the dreary uniform he had forced her to wear.
Lalia and Dorothy walked out with nothing more exchanged than a glance.
HEY! I MISSED YOU GUYS! Life has been crazy. It's going to be another long while I'm afraid before the next chapter because I'm moving in three weeks, but I'll do my absolute best. Feel free to gimme reviews and to e-mail me directly at STAY TUUUUNED!
Tori