A/N: Hi, everyone. Feeling a lot better physically than I have in months. I'm making steady, albeit slow, progress on Chapter 6 of Beyond Aperture, for those who're interested.

Anyways, here's another. It's my first attempt at writing Caroline, and I really, really hope I didn't completely fudge up her character; though, admittedly, there's not much in canon to really go by and I didn't really want to deliberately copy anyone else's depictions of her. Anyways let me know what you think.

By the way, there's another fanfic on this site, The Tale of Wheatato. While I didn't write it myself - it's beyond my abilities at the moment - the story concept's mine. So go check that out if you'd like.

9. Snowfall
Summary: Caroline takes a walk in the snow and contemplates.
Genre: General
Characters: Caroline, Cave Johnson, Doug Rattmann
Warnings: Caveline?

She was glad to see the snowfall. It fell in large, fluffy, cottony-white flakes.

She stepped out the door, her breath misting in the nippy December air, wrapping her coat tighter around her body. Even at her advanced age, there was an air of grace, an air of dignity surrounding her.

"I'm very sorry about this, Miss Caroline," one of the scientists said, pausing for a moment on the way to his car. Although, on paper, she was Mrs. Caroline Johnson, she had always been known as Miss Caroline, from the moment she had walked in the doors of the newly-operational Aperture Science Innovators, an inexperienced, young woman - barely a girl, really - looking for her first job as a secretary. She had been hired almost on the spot. "I wish I could do something to prevent it."

"Thank you, Dr. Rattmann, but what's done is gone," she said. At the sudden look of utter hopelessness on his face, her features softened a little. "You have a bright future ahead of you, Douglas. You're an intelligent young man. Keep that in mind."

"Thank you, Miss Caroline," he said, before walking to the car, his boots leaving footprints in the pristine snow.

She sighed, lifting her face towards the sky, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out to catch a snowflake. She wasn't a young woman anymore, and she shouldn't act like one.

Cave had always loved the snow. Somehow, he always managed to get her away from her work ("Science can wait!" - even now, it was hard to believe he had ever said those words) so they could go outside to have a snowball fight or build a snowman on Aperture's front lawn. He was the type of person who made her feel alive. Even after nearly a year, she still missed him. Never once had they said to each other, "I love you," and she wished she had.

Tomorrow was the day.

She had seen the machine, a large mechanical device with a delicate robotic figure dangling from it. In some strange way, she had to admit it was beautiful: the smooth, white plastic and metal of its casing, its sleek, feminine lines. At the moment, though, it dangled from the ceiling, seemingly lifeless (could a machine ever be considered 'alive'? Even though she had met some of the personality spheres, she still couldn't answer that question honestly.)

Her new body. They hadn't completed it in time for him.

Tomorrow, when she arrived at work, armed guards would escort her to the room where she would be torn out of her fleshy, mortal body and inserted into a mechanical, virtually immortal one.

She would never see the snow again.

She had fought tooth and nail, not wanting her humanity torn away from her, but she had lost.

She had decided, though, that if she couldn't keep her humanity, she would at least keep her dignity. She would walk in of her own accord, rather than be kicked in kicking and screaming like some of her predecessors, the ones who had been transferred into the spheres. She would honor his last wishes with pride.

And with that, she lifted her face to the sky again, sticking out her tongue to catch a snowflake