Disclaimer: I do not own Big O.
Chapter 9 - Epilogue
The time had come for Roger to take some serious action. Plan A had not worked in the slightest, in fact, it had only managed to piss her off (to his great dismay). Why was she upset, anyway? He had finally managed to come out with it and she thought he was playing some kind of practical joke on her… But then why would she think it was cruel? If he had told her he loved her and she didn't give a damn, she probably would have just shrugged it off and given that false, mechanical smile that she had whenever a joke was told and she didn't quite know how to respond.
However, she had not done that. Could that possibly mean what he hoped it meant? Could she care about him, too? He had been counting on it, and it would be disastrous if he was wrong. Even if she didn't love him back, he would still want her to stay with him. But would she want the same thing?
So many questions and conflicted thoughts ran through Roger's mind as he got into his car and sped down the street. She had gone to the repair shop, and he had to get there before she could leave and be lost to him forever!
"Well, Miss Wayneright, what seems to be the problem?" Asked the repairwoman in the light blue overalls. Her mousy brown hair was done up in a tight bun, and she was very thin. Her thinness did not seem to be healthy, however, but in any case, she seemed to be a good-natured person.
"My head doesn't feel right. I think something may be broken," she said from her seat on the table.
The repairwoman turned Dorothy around and pressed a button, opening the back of her head.
"Hmm," said the woman. She made a series of noises, none of which gave any indication of what may or may not be wrong. After some minutes of waiting and antsy anticipation, Dorothy finally spoke.
"Is there anything wrong?" She asked.
"Well, there is one or two things that seem to have been overloaded and then overheated, but they're not essential to your functioning. Since they're pretty much useless in there as they are, it would be good to remove them."
"Will I lose any functions with these?" She was apprehensive.
"There are several, but none of the androids I've relieved of these specific chips have ever come back to me wanting replacements. What the chips are normally supposed to do is tighten your master's control over you. If he makes a command they force you to obey whether you want to or not. Without these, you'll be able to choose your own loyalties and which orders to follow and so on. Make sense?"
"I think so," Dorothy replied. That would explain a lot of things. "So they control free will, then. Do they control my emotions?"
The woman seemed rather taken aback.
"Emotions?" Dorothy heard her voice become thoroughly stricken. "Well, to be honest, no one is really sure what makes androids exhibit emotions. There's been a lot of controversy about it, ever since the very first models were created. Mind you, this was a long time before everyone lost their memories, so our ancestors managed to get very advanced in this particular type of technology. Some people think that the androids are simply imitating, as their artificial intelligence prompts them to do. This means that after being around humans for a long time, they themselves begin to exhibit human qualities and habits. Others believe the ghost in the shell theory, which suggests that after a while, androids actually form their own soul. Little blips of unexplainable positronic activity, of which even our extraordinary ancestors could not figure out, are actually thought to be feelings and original thoughts, which no one and nothing prompted or taught to the individuals who have been tested." The repairwoman was really getting in to her explanations, and Dorothy had to stop her before she went on and became lost in her own world.
"Which theory do you believe?" She asked.
"The latter, of course. I actually live with several androids, and when you've lived with them for as long as I have, you know that there's something more to them. I thoroughly believe that they all have souls. There's something in them that won't die and disappear when they can no longer function. I'm certain of it."
"Do you really think so?" Dorothy said, her voice just above a whisper. Could it be true?
"I do not think so. I know so," said the woman breathlessly. "Now! Would you like me to remove these broken chips?"
"And will you be wanting any replacements?" The woman asked as she took up her pliers and began the work.
"No," Dorothy replied with a slight smile on her face.
"'Atta girl! Good for you! You have your own free will now, to do what you please and when you please. Isn't that nice?"
"I guess I'll find out," she said rather wistfully. "While you're back there, I have some things that I've always wanted to know, but there has never been anyone who knew, or who I could ask. Is it alright if I ask you?"
"Of course," she said warmly. "Ask away."
Roger pulled up to the curb in a fury. He would not let her get away from him this time! She had managed to run away from him too many times before. If he had to get Big O to get her to hold still and hear all of what he had to say, so be it! There was no way he would let her move in with Beck, in any case. The thought of that yellow-haired buffoon keeping Dorothy with him, touching her, having her cook for him, clean up after him, and live in his house, was just too much. If she threatened to go to Beck one more time, he swore he'd find a way to chain her to the piano outside his room.
As he sat in his car, a sudden thought came to him stemming from the chains, the piano, and Dorothy. A lecherous smirk appeared on his face, and he chuckled evilly. Then quite suddenly, he slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide in shock. No! Bad Roger! However, that brought up a very good question…
He jumped as the door opened, letting in some of the cold night air, and in stepped Dorothy. She sat and shut the door behind her.
"Hello Roger," she said.
"Dorothy!" He said, gathering his scattered wits about him. "What…"
"I could have walked, but I appreciate the ride." There was a slight glow in her eyes as she spoke, but she refused to look at him.
"Listen, there's something that I need to talk to you about, and you can't leave until I finish."
"When we get home," she replied.
"No, now! I…"
"Roger." She turned to look at him, and he stopped, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows raised. "Let's go home, ok?"
He sat for a moment, hesitant, but revved the engine and they were on their way.
"Are you still thinking about moving in with Beck?" He asked, trying very hard to keep his composure.
"No. To tell you the truth, I only said that to make you angry," she said.
"Well it worked." His voice was low and menacing.
"I'm sorry about that, but you did call me a robot."
"And you called me a liar!" He snapped.
There was silence.
"So then…" she began. "You weren't lying when you said…"
"No, I wasn't," he said matter-of-factly. "I don't know if you hadn't noticed this, but I'm not really the type to play practical jokes."
"I suppose not," she said wistfully.
Another long silence as Roger pulled into a dark and deserted parking lot, but she didn't seem to notice, even when he turned off the engine and pulled up the parking brake.
"What about Angel?" She asked suddenly, looking up at him. He looked down at her, a slight smile on his face.
"She and her boyfriend had a fight. She told me that it happens at least once a month, but they always make up. When they do fight, however, she normally goes to a friend's house, but her friend was out of town. So she came to me."
His smile turned into a grin.
"Were you jealous?" He inched his face close to hers.
She was silent for a moment, and then looked away.
"Roger Smith, you are a louse." She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Does that mean that you won't stay with me?"
"I'd like to stay, but…" She trailed off.
"Could you really except me as I am? You know that I'm an android, and I could never…" She couldn't bring herself to say it.
"That's never mattered to me, none of it. As long as you're by my side… I'd be happy." He seemed surprised at himself, as he had just managed to speak his mind to her without becoming flustered and frustrated.
"What do you say?" he asked, sounding slightly doubtful.
She suddenly threw herself into him, her face buried in his chest as he tried his best to remain calm and composed. Her arms wrapped around him, and he pulled her into an embrace. The stick shift and parking brake were obstacles, but he managed to lift her over them and onto his lap with little effort.
"What do I say?" She asked into his chest.
"You could say that you love me, and always have. Telling me I'm handsome might help, too," was his suggestion.
She took him completely by surprise as she raised her head and the corners of her mouth lifted into her first ever genuine and heartfelt smile.
"I said that I loved you every time I played the piano outside your room. You just never noticed."
They were suddenly caught up in a feverishly passionate kiss, and when they parted, their chests were heaving. Roger's hair was scrambled and his tie was askew. Dorothy's black sweatshirt had somehow managed to rip along the back, as Roger had torn at it. Looking into each other's eyes in the interval, they began to kiss once more, and articles of clothing began to fly to the backseat. When Dorothy's hands found the fly of Roger's pants, he stopped her.
"Wait… I thought that you couldn't…" He trailed off.
"Yes, I can. I asked the person at the repair shop. But I'm barren," and she continued to undo his fly.
"Oh…We can always adopt," he said breathlessly and then moaned loudly as she did something he hadn't really expected.
When they arrived back at the mansion, the dawn was beginning to arrive. Quietly, they made their way to Roger's room. Before they could enter, however, Dorothy stopped him. She sat at the piano, and began to play. He leaned against his door, listening and waiting.
This was Mozart, the man who she had been so jealous of, and the man who composed music with his soul. This music reminded her of her place in the world, and that was at Roger's side. This music told her that she had someone to take care of her, and someone who would always be there for her. It made her heart leap in rejoice, because she was no longer one of those poor forsaken who was doomed to die a lonely death. She had her love to sustain her, and she would never be lonely again.
With her piano sonata, she told her love that all of the things that she had never been able to say in words.
"I love you Roger. I would never leave you. At your side is where I'm happy, and that's where I'd like to stay, for as long as we both have life in us."
As she finished her sonata, she shut the top of the piano, and took Roger by the hand. Slowly and tenderly, he brought his lips to hers and put his arms around her snugly. Her arms went around his neck and the kiss deepened.
After several moments, the two pulled back, lips swollen and chests heaving. They went in, locked the door behind them, and stayed there for a very, very long time.
(Well, I hope you liked it. That's the end, folks. I'm considering writing a lemon version, as I think it would be rather fun to write, but I'm not decided yet. We'll see. Tell me if you'd want to see that on the adult fanfiction site, or if you wouldn't. I really hope you enjoyed this story, as it was a great deal of fun (and hard work) to write. I just can't explain how rewarding this ending is to me. :)