TITLE: I, Android

AUTHOR: Parisindy

DISCLAIMER: No money was received or exchanged. We do not own Andromeda or any of its Characters.

This is purely for fun.

ARCHIVE: only MW can archive it anyone else has to ask first.

SUMMARY: Doyle reflects on her relationship with Harper and the possible return of Rommie.

NOTES: Thanks to Eljay for being my Beta reader. Thank You to Jips for the link that led to the Plot Bunny and thank you to the H20's for their inspiration and on going friendship.


"I do not fear computers. I fear lack of them."

Isaac Asimov


"When you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle


I, Android

He loves her. He aches for her. I see it in his eyes, in his voice. In the very air he breathes.

Who am I? How do I compete with her? Should I even try?

He reaches for a tool, one that he did not have before they returned for him. But he does not fix her. His hands shake and his heartbeat quickens but he wills himself not to look up at her. He doubts himself.

We fight now. More then we ever did before. I feel my frustration grow even as I think of it.

He only made me because he loved her. He lied to me… told me I was something else. How? Why? It wasn't fair, but nothing is in this existence.

I know I have value. I have a lot to offer the universe; I only need time and opportunity. Yet, as the days pass and we get closer to leaving the only place I have ever called home I find my emotions hardening like the sun-baked soil of Seefra.

He loves her and I love him. It's a vicious circle. Yet, it's not the kind of love one would think. Rommie and I both represent a certain...perfections. Well, the old Rommie did anyway… but it's not about the physical despite what he would have you believe. It's something different. He willed me into being. He made me different from her. He wanted to spend time with me, be my friend. For the longest time we were our own family. There has to be reason in that even though I have yet to understand it.

We were happy, if you could call it that. We had food, we had laughs, yet there was always that dark shadow hanging over us.

She distracted him yet he did nothing. When he did try to talk to her it was like she crushed his soul. He would drink anything and everything that would chase him in to oblivion. She blamed him and he blamed himself.

I love him, he loves her, and she loves no one.

How could I not be angry? All these emotions were so pointless, so human. And he punched in the numbers that gave them to me!

Even worse, I am her vessel. I am a part of this thing he cherishes. Surely I must be more than a vessel to him. I must be more then an end to his means?

When Dylan asked him to rebuild her he said, 'No'. Once more he couldn't face the task. Even with the strength of his returned friends.

I had to volunteer.

For I am a part of her and even though I don't really understand it I need to see her freed. Harper clings to the pain. He knows it and understands it. It's the future and the idea that she will hate him forever that he's afraid of. He would rather live in the pain of that uncertainty than face tomorrow without her.

Rommie and I have both been living in the dark for too long.

He made her; he made me. But I can fix her. I can make things right.

It makes me smile.

I represent Harper's love for her.

I am a part of Harper's love and for now that's enough.

For as much as I need his love I am not controlled by it. I am my own person. I am Doyle! And I shall be reckoned with in the way I choose fitting.

A wise man once said.

"When you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

Rommie and I will remain, for we are Harper's truth, whether he is ready to face us or not.

Truth is love.


the end