(First of Five 'Flowers')



The repairs were completed, her smooth ivory appearance restored to its usual sleekness, slim leg unharmed where the crushed velvet skirt exposed it.

"I am fine, Roger," she said curtly, unblinking black eyes conveying blunt reassurance. "There is no need to treat me as though I am about to break in half." Steam rose delicately from her teacup.

He half-sighed, wryly, and straightened his back to readjust his fork's grip. "I'm just worried about you," spoke Roger, as though his pride was terribly wounded. "Not that you'd understand how worried you made me." He shook his head, grimacing.

"I am sorry," R. Dorothy said indifferently.

Roger made a sarcastic, affectionate noise deep in his throat.

She curled her slim fingers in the loop of the teacup, pressing her white fingertips with automatic gentility along the china. He, in reply, glanced at her, an eyebrow lifting in mild concern at the disconcerted, distant air about her; R. Dorothy watched the steaming tea without seeming to trul recognize the liquid's existence.

"Roger," she began, as calm as ever, "if we are nothing else, we are friends, are we not?"

He paused, somehow wistful. "Don't be absurd," he said. "Of course we are."



Continuity: Following the 09.21.03 episode.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, locations, or situations of Big O. This fanfiction piece is, however, mine.