Work Text:
Creating Miss Lonelyhearts was one of the most foolish things Adelle ever did. Roger was an indulgence common enough to those in her field (who didn’t sample their own goods?) but not one she could afford. Her position was precarious; she could not afford weaknesses, much less delusions of love.
Roger, a man created out of her own dreams and Topher’s odd brilliance, was a stupid, stupid thing to do. Adelle only ever did one thing that was stupider, and that was Cara.
Even the name was stupid. Adelle requested it specially. Not quite Caroline—she didn’t delude herself that far—but not quite not either. Cara was a recent college graduate with dreams of changing the world who currently had settled for an affair with a rich woman instead. She thought the world of Miss Lonelyhearts, of her “Katherine”, who to her was a philanthropist with a fine taste in culture. Katherine was whom she aspired to be, her ideal woman. Cara adored her.
Adelle was very stupid to even come up with the idea of Cara, stupider still to actually put forward the request, and specifically request Echo as the doll to be used, and pay the money and follow through with it.
The first time, she was hesitant. It had been years since she was last with a woman. Moreover, Topher rarely programmed lesbians, and she wondered if he did a good job. Certainly they got no complaints, but…
But it turned out that was all pointless worrying. Flaws with her plan there were, but Cara herself was flawlessly all Adelle could have imagined.
“Look at you,” she said, pinning Adelle against the low wall of the balcony, so close Adelle almost feared they’d both fall over. “God, it’s been ages. Gimme a kiss?”
She had that bratty white girl accent that Caroline always flaunted. Adelle almost froze up, but she noticed Cara beginning to frown and leaned forward and kissed her. Cara kissed back skillfully. Is this how it is for all Echo’s customers, Adelle wondered, but she pulled herself back to the present. She was here to enjoy herself, not philosophize.
It was not so different from a visit from Roger, except in the small things. Cara’s fencing style was a bit different, and when Adelle pinned her and kissed her she smirked. Cara was a vegetarian, which Adelle had known beforehand, so the dinner had to accommodate that. Cara in bed was a woman—that was quite a difference—but she still was worshipful and sappy, so perhaps it was not so different after all.
It was Adelle who was different. She did not spend very much time with Victor, after all. Nor did she know who Victor had been before, except vaguely, inasmuch as they had made a deal with each other. But this was Echo. This was Caroline.
No it’s not, she told herself. It’s Cara. It’s an imprint. And you chose it to be like Caroline Farrell because she’s your type—why not indulge yourself—and you chose Echo because she’s the best. That’s all.
She watched old tapes of Caroline Farrell sometimes.
They had a couple videos and photos of her from before her crusade started. After that, scattered evidence. Pictures and brief clips from surveillance cameras, some so blurry that it was hard to say if the woman was even really Caroline even if the Dollhouse computers had said she was at the time. A couple videos from the time she had attacked and nearly blown up their base. Those were Adelle’s favorite. She watched Caroline’s stride, professional and eager yet still feminine, as she walked about the building as if she were not an intruder but belonged there. She even enjoyed watching the explosion.
She sometimes rewatched tapes of her own conversations with Caroline before Caroline had been wiped away from Echo’s body. Caroline, who should have been terrified, seemed relaxed. She leaned back in her seat, and snarked when Adelle offered her tea. She met Adelle’s eyes for long, wavering moments, and Adelle smiled at her, and she did not seem disgusted, though she hid her reactions. She was perfectly attuned to what Adelle said, appearing relaxed yet simultaneously on guard.
Was there any attraction there?
Adelle pondered the angle of her knees and her shoulders. The tilt of her head, the lilt of her lips. She might never have a prolonged conversation with Caroline Farrell again. Here it all was, and was it nothing? After all the months she had spent chasing Caroline, was there nothing between them?
Caroline looked at her as if she contained all the world’s answers, even if they were only explanations of the world’s evil. Adelle watched her stare until the tape ended, and then she closed her eyes and mentally rewound.
Stupid to think of Cara. Stupider to request her once. Stupidest, she found herself doing it again. And again. And again. And again.
Of course Cara was not Caroline. She loved Katherine, but she did not understand Adelle, not the brutal way Caroline had. She was not a kindred spirit. Yet Adelle returned to her again and again, looking for something she could never quite find.
Still. Harmless, she told herself. Cara was young, pretty, clever, idealistic. Many women’s type, many men’s type for that matter. There was nothing so odd about Adelle wanting something like that.
Nothing wrong with a casual indulgence.
Except.
Except.
Except Victor always wiped so cleanly, and Echo…
Didn’t.
She came upon her in the evening when she was done with work. Sitting outside her office. Dominic said, “She’s been there for a while, ma’am. I would have told you, but.” He shrugged. She’d been focused, busy. There was always something to focus on. Of course she had not the time to care where a willful doll wandered.
“Thank you, Mr. Dominic. It is not a concern.” She smiled at him and nodded, then stared until he walked away.
She turned to Echo. “Echo. Are you well?”
“I am my best. Doctor Saunders helps me to be my best.” It was not Cara or Caroline’s voice. It still held that eerie calm. But she cocked her head. “Are you your best, Katherine?”
Adelle swallowed.
She did not correct Echo. There was no point—this would be wiped away soon, names weren’t even supposed to be thoroughly remembered by dolls, no reason for Echo to call her Adelle or DeWitt or whatever. Katherine was as good as any name.
“I have been trying,” she said.
She knelt on the floor, and Echo sat cross-legged next to her. Yoga pants let her take any position she chose—Adelle’s pencil skirt was more restraining. “You came to see me.”
“I’m supposed to see you,” Echo said. She sounded absolutely certain of it.
“You’re supposed to do whatever you want.” Or sometimes follow the programming. Or at any rate not sit outside an administrative office for hours on end doing nothing.
Echo said, “I am doing what I want.”
She stared at Adelle. Adelle fought the urge to flush. Dolls were always so frank. Nothing so strange about this. Nothing so…
Damn it. She would have to have Topher wipe her down more thoroughly. Why was it Echo always malfunctioned? At least she didn’t try to kiss Adelle. That, it seemed, was beyond what she remembered. Probably she didn’t remember much. Probably.
Yes, it was a stupid stare. And it was stupidly that she followed Adelle down the stairs, and shadowed her as she checked up on things, closing out for the end of the day. Didn’t really mean anything.
But Adelle was still the stupid one. Because even after all this, even after requesting a stronger wipe, she still requested that Cara come visit her two weeks later. She couldn’t help it. Those eyes on her, whether dull or lively, stirred something in her. Cara and Echo didn’t know Adelle, not really, but they saw her. And she needed to keep on seeing them too.