AUTHOR: brave-little-toaster
RATING: PG-13 for now.
DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own BtVS and Dollhouse. I’m just twisted enough to try to put them together in some form or another.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This isn’t my first story, but it’s the first one I’m actually posting! Please be honest in any feedback you leave, and let me know if you’re interested in beta-ing. I had a friend look this bit over, but she doesn’t know enough about either Willow and Tara or Dollhouse to be able to be a proper beta for this story. A good amount of knowledge of either would be nice!
Additional note: I had to change the date of what happened here. That's the only change, I swear!
Late February, 2009
A small, red-headed girl sat in front of a short wooden table. She had a paint brush in her left hand, but nothing was on the paper in front of her yet. Her hand wasn’t moving towards any of the little tin containers of color that sat laid out on the table. In fact, she wasn’t moving at all. Instead, she was just sitting there with her legs crossed and her knees touching the bottom of the table. Staring at the paper.
When a blonde girl who might have been slightly taller than her came to sit beside her, she didn’t jump or move at all. She just continued to stare at the paper. The blonde girl looked at the red-head, then at the paper, and seemed to contemplate its emptiness before looking at the red-head again. After a while, the blonde spoke quietly, never letting her gaze leave the other girl’s face. “There’s nothing there to be looking at.”
The red-head smiled a little bit, turning her head slowly to look at the blonde. “There’s the entire world to be looking at. It’s just not there yet.” She paused before speaking again, this time with a slightly furrowed brow. “Do I know you?”
The blonde looked a little disturbed at this question, although more at the concept of the question than the question itself. “I don’t know,” She answered slowly, as if the fact that she didn’t know troubled her “but I think I’d like to.” Calmly, she extended her right hand. “My name’s Able.” A slow smile started on the left side of her face before spreading to the right.
The red-head’s face lit up as their hands connected. “Oboe. Does this mean we’re friends now?” There was a hopeful tone to her voice as she shook Able’s hand. Oboe blushed a little bit, although she wasn’t sure why. The other girl blushed too, shrugging and tilting her head downward just enough to make her hair fall in front of her eyes. Oboe slowly extracted her hand, just to brush some of the blonde’s hair behind her ear. “Don’t do that. You’re beautiful.”
Able looked surprised for a moment, before allowing the smile to return to her face. “Thank-you. I don’t think that anyone has ever told me that I’m beautiful before. A-and I suppose this does make us friends.”
Oboe beamed, proud to have made a real friend.
- - -
An unknown number of floors above, a young man was sitting in front of a wall of television screens. He was paying specific attention to one of them, watching the two young women’s interactions. He had no way of knowing what they were saying, but he began to suspect that something was happening as he watched the continued interaction.
His suspicions were confirmed when the smaller one put down her paint brush and the two stood up, then walked off together. The young man adjusted his lab coat, and looked behind himself to see a young, brunette female with her left arm in a form of a sling. Closer inspection would prove that the lower half of her arm was dead, and in a form of cast or possibly sling that probably suited the young woman’s needs.
The young man opened and closed his mouth a few times before speaking. “Able seems to be healing up quite nicely, Doctor Bennett. She should be ready to begin engagements within the week.” He spoke quickly and nervously, as if he were a child who was caught by a parent while he was in the act of doing something wrong.
Whether Doctor Bennett noticed or not, she moved next to him and placed her right hand on his shoulder. The young man visibly stiffened. The doctor gazed at the screen he was just looking at for a moment, and nodded. “Yes, I saw. I’m glad, too. I was almost afraid that either her wound wouldn’t heal up correctly or that my programming wouldn’t fix her… stutter.” She spoke matter-of-factly, with little emotion in her voice.
The young man forced a smile. “But your programming can fix anything, Doctor Bennett.” He paused for a moment. “And we both know that there was way more wrong with her… both physically and mentally … than just a stutter.” As he said this, Dr. Bennett had turned to walk out of the room. After his comment, she turned and smirked at him.
“Flattery will get you nowhere. Bring Able up first thing in the morning, I’d like to imprint her with a personality to see how she reacts before we suggest her for engagements.” As she said this, Dr. Bennett used her live arm to put the glasses that were previously held around her neck by a beaded green chain onto her face. She then adjusted the collar of her lab coat with the same hand, and walked out of the room.
Just after she passed through the doorway, she stopped and spoke over her shoulder to the young man.
“Keep an eye on Oboe. She’s not left-handed.”
- - -
Late that night, Doctor Bennett was seated in her laboratory. She was seated in front of a computer, observing whatever was on the screen and making notes into a little book. After a moment, she set down her pencil and picked up a little recorder.
“Future Senator Perrin’s current brain scans indicate that he is mentally stable and above a majority of his class in the learning curve. All that I’ve done for his imprint is replace his memories of college with assorted memories of lessons in law school and add a level of attraction to Cindy, his handler and future wife. I’ll have to let his brain fill in the gaps in between law school lessons. If I can only determine what needs to be taken out and replaced with the ambition to make this truly sucessful…” She trailed off in her thought, clicking a few more things on-screen before closing out of what was on the screen and shutting off the recorder.
Quickly, Doctor Bennett took the tape out of the recorder and placed the tape, the notebook, and an additional cassette-looking device into a small box. She crossed to the other side of the room and pushed the box between two others of the same size. Then, she crossed to another section of the room and took out a box with the name “Maclay” written on it.
She pulled three items out of the box that were extraordinarily similar to what she had just put into the Senator’s box. The notebook went on the table, the tape went into the recorder, and the cassette went into a little slot in front of the computer screen she was once again sitting at.
Turning on the recorder, she began to speak again. “It astounds me how much Miss Maclay has endured in her lifetime. There are clear signs of psychological abuse, and her body scans show even clearer signs of physical abuse.” She clicked on another file, opening up what appeared to be a series of body scans and pictures of a young woman, presumably named Maclay. “We were able to rid her of all of her outer scars, and additional… treatments… should have helped to repair her bones so that they’re straight and strong. She has been quite the expensive project to work on because of all of her physical and mental flaws, but she should be worth it. She’s truly a lovely young woman.”
- - -
Floors below, Able was in her bed with the opaque glass top and the royal blue sheets. She wasn’t sleeping, though. She was crying. She had had another dream, one of the bad ones. There was a man coming to take her away. She didn’t know who he was, but she had a feeling she should have known, he seemed familiar. He was coming to take her away, and she knew that this was the best she had ever been. He was trying to take her away, to make her so she wasn’t her best anymore. Then he would rub it in her face that she wasn't her best anymore. She just wanted to be her best.
Slowly, the top of her single bed slid open about halfway. A small face framed with short red hair appeared in the minimal amount of light from the room above. The face looked worried. A concerned voice asked “Able, are you okay?”
Able shook her head before speaking, her voice thick with tears. “He’s coming. He’s coming to take me from here, so I’m not my best anymore.” Oboe climbed slid into her friend’s bed, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t let him take me.” Able began to cry again, as a resolved face crossed Oboe’s features.
Oboe took her free hand and turned her friend’s face, so they were eye to eye. “I won’t let him take you. Ever. You’ll stay right here, with me.” Able’s sobs began to quiet.
Soon, the two were lying together in the bed. Able was laying on her back with one arm wrapped around Oboe’s back, while Oboe was laying on her side, with one arm wrapped around Able’s waist and her head rested on Able’s shoulder.
That night, Able slept more peacefully than she had in her whole life.
I actually went to the Dollhouse Wiki page to catch up a little. Looking forward for more. 
I’m glad it’s kinda sorta clear what’s going on. I’m trying to make this make as much sense as possible for those who don’t know much/anything about Dollhouse as possible.
