He was different now. The blond man, who always wore pretty colored shirts and rushed around angrily, had come out of the treatment room without any of his usual intensity. Or colors. He seemed calm, sedate, at peace, almost completely unlike his usual demeanor.

It was good that he wasn't so tense.

Tension wasn't good. It didn't help you to be your best.

Echo watched as one of the nice people who looked after them approached the blond man and gestured for him to follow her. Sierra noticed that something had caught Echo's attention and turned to look as well. After a moment, she said, "I like when we get new friends."

"Yes," Echo replied, unsure why a little voice in the back of her mind warned her to be careful of him. It always spoke up when she saw him and she had the niggling idea that he was dangerous. "Friends are nice."

As he walked by, Victor paused, smiled and said, "Hello."

"Hello," Echo and Sierra chorused, though Echo thought Sierra was a bit happier to greet their friend. She usually was.

"I'm going to paint," he informed them, which made Sierra brighten.

"I like to paint," Sierra said, then looked at Echo. "Would you like to paint?"

"Not now," she replied, nodding to the picture book open on her lap. "You go. I might do yoga later."

They smiled and nodded before moving off to the art room. Echo remained on the couch and raised her head when the used-to-be scowly blond was led through. The care taker stopped and said, "How are you today Echo?"

"I have a book," she replied, then looked at the blond. He met her gaze placidly, then blinked and cocked his head to the side as he considered her.

The caretaker didn't notice, simply continuing, "That's lovely, dear. This is Oscar. He'll be staying here. Oscar, this is Echo."

Oscar - for some reason, Echo didn't think the name sounded right - nodded at her and said, "Hello, Echo."

"Hello, Oscar." It was the only reply she could come up with. After all, she couldn't say exactly what it was about him she always found so unnerving. It was just that she felt a sense of foreboding when he was around.

But that was different now too.

She didn't feel anything negative coming from him, but she did see a glimmer of recognition in his eye.

Oblivious, the caretaker laid her hand on Oscar's arm and said, "Come along, Oscar. I have to finish showing you around."

As she led him away, Echo settled back into the couch. Sometimes, she wished the mess of thoughts in her head were clearer or even that someone would tell her why she always felt like there was something creeping in on the edge of her awareness.

Leaning on the railing, overlooking the main floor of the Dollhouse, Boyd Langston let his eyes travel around the room, taking note of Actives, his mind immediately pulling up their most recent imprint.

Echo, recently back from her little adventure as Margaret Bashford, Ms. DeWitt's deceased friend, was snacking on a fruit salad. Across the table from her, Sierra was no worse for the wear of spending a day as Topher's female equivalent.

In the art area, several Actives were tending to Bonsai trees. Victor - last engagement, Drew Chilton, horse trainer- was among them, happily pruning the tiny plant.

One of the caretakers was leading Dominic (Damn it, he was never going to get used to calling the man Oscar. It was too strange and, frankly, he felt DeWitt had crossed a line there. Dominic might have been a spy and a son of a bitch, but he hadn't signed up for this.) from the imprint room, back from his first engagement.

A wealthy, 50 something woman had simply wanted an appropriate escort for a charity benefit. She hadn't wanted anyone too young, asked for a 40ish, elegant and well educated man to keep her company. Dominic - Oscar, damn it! Oscar - had fit the bill physically and Topher designed an imprint that perfectly suited the clients needs.

In fact, she had been so happy, the client had already booked Oscar for a second engagement next month. Some night at the opera type fundraiser.

As Dominic and the caretaker passed Boyd, the blond man paused to meet his gaze. "Hello," he said, voice softer and less intense than it had been before.

It was eerie.

"Good afternoon, Oscar," he said with a nod. "How are you doing today?"

"I try to be my best."

Boyd startled slightly, sure he'd heard a sarcastic undertone in that statement. Impossible. The caretaker hadn't noticed anything amiss and touched Dominic on the shoulder. "Come along, Oscar. Time to see Dr. Saunders."

"Dr. Saunders is nice," Oscar replied brightly, once again managing to imbue the simple sentence with… something indefinable.

Boyd stood there, stumped, as the caretaker let Dominic away. He turned back to the view of the atrium, wondering what was going on.

At her table, Echo looked up when Dominic and the caretaker appeared on the floor, crossing the area towards Dr. Saunders office. Her gaze locked on Dominic and, to Boyd's shock, the former head of security turned to meet her stare. As he watched, blue and brown eyes met, placid expressions shifted minutely and, after a moment, then nodded to each other before continuing on with their own activities.

What the hell was that?

TBC…