Big O Fan Fiction ❯ Sweet Uncertainty ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Big O or its characters.

A/N: Hey there! I was watching TV and came across a Harvey Keitel movie. Since he's one of my favorite actors I continued to watch it. I don't know what the movie is called but this fic is going to be loosely based on it. Have fun reading it and don't forget to tell me what you think. My first Big O fic, hope you like it.

A black line will indicate scene changes.

"No, no, no. You're missing the point completely. Art is art for the sake of expression, not for the sake of skill." Roger reached down to put more of the oil paints on his pallet.

"But if you aren't skilled you can't really call it art."

"That's not true."

"Would you call the doodling of a two year old art?"

"I don't really think a two year old is capable of creating art, Dorothy. Plus, that isn't the point. If you are expressing yourself, you are creating art."

"Maybe the two year old is expressing himself." Roger looked around the easel and gave her one of those `you-know-what-I-mean-so-stop-making-things-difficult' looks. "Besides, I never said you were bad. I just said that you weren't skilled."

"Dorothy, I'm really getting…"

"Master Roger, so sorry to interrupt…" Norman had entered the room without them noticing. "…but Major Dastun called and said there is a large mecha in one of the domes."

"Did he say which one?" Roger had already taken off his apron and put on his uniform-like black suit.

"No, he was cut off."

"No matter, I'm sure I'll be able to find it soon enough." He sprinted towards the door and just as he approached it the ground shook violently. Roger braced himself on the knob to keep from falling. "I think I've just found it." He turned around a raced to the balcony, where he summoned his megadeus.

"Wait for me." Dorothy called after him.

"No, stay here." He said, hopping into the cockpit, but pausing to give her a reassuring glance.

"I didn't want to go with you anyway." The monotone in her voice always made it hard to pick up the sarcasm, but it was there. When you're close to someone you understand hidden meanings.

"Be careful, Master Roger." Norman piped up. Roger had almost forgotten he was there. "I'll postpone din…" he was cut off when the earth quaked again.

"I've got to run." The cockpit closed and Norman and Dorothy watched as Big O took off to the other side of the dome.

"How soon will he be back?" Dorothy asked of the man behind her. There was the sound of a door shutting.

"Not soon enough, dear." An alien voice said behind her. She turned in time to see a man dressed in a gold suit hit Norman in the back of the head, sending him limply to the ground. The man was flanked by two others dressed in black.

"Beck"

"It flatters me that you remember my name. Boys, do your work."

Dan Dastun cringed as a building was knocked down. "I hate this. Why can't we just get rid of all the robots?"

"Umm…because we don't have the firepower." One of the privates answered beside him.

"It was a rhetorical question." He said dryly.

"Oh…"

Roger Smith grunted as he pushed one of Big O's arms forwards, grabbing what resembled the neck of the gold hued robot in front of him.

"You look really stupid with that antenna coming off of your head. Let me do you a favor." Big O reached out and pulled the antenna off the top of its enemy's head. Suddenly the lights in the other robot went out and it went as limp as a large metal robot can go.

"That's odd." He dropped mangled pile of metal and kicked it. Roger shrugged and began pushing some buttons in the cockpit. Big O bent down, picking up the `dead' robot and tossed it in the direction of the sea, where it sank to its watery grave.

He shut the heavy doors through which he had entered. "Norman?" He called; it was odd the elder man hadn't greeted him when he walked in. "Norman?" A bit louder this time. He continued walking toward his chambers. "Norman!" This time more irritated than questioning. "This isn't funny."

He made his way up the stairs and into his bedroom. The lights were off but the balcony doors were still open. "What the hell?" Norman always kept them closed in accordance with Roger's private lifestyle preferences. He stepped forward to close them but tripped over something unmoving on the ground. He rushed back to the other side of the room and flipped on the light switch.

"Norman!" He sprinted to where Norman lay and checked his pulse. He smiled faintly when he felt it beating strongly. Roger rolled him onto his back and lightly slapped his face. When the man's eyes fluttered open let out a sigh. "What happened?"

"I don't know, sir." The old man rubbed the back of his head and jumped when his hand ran over a large bump.

"Do you want me to get you some water?"

"No, I'll be fine."

"Where's Dorothy?"

"I don't know. She was standing on the balcony and asked me how soon you would be back. After that I don't remember." Roger moved swiftly to the balcony but stopped suddenly at what he saw. Scattered all over the floor were pieces of Dorothy. Wires, circuits; her left arm had been sawed off. The program disk that was kept in her hair band was shattered in pieces near her stiff body. Even the faint glow of light that was usually emitted from her eyes was gone.

He dropped to his knees and tried to pick up the pieces of the disk, but soon gave up for they were too numerous to put back together. He closed the circuit plate and picked up her arm. He examined it for a moment, fighting to hold it still. The sound of metal hitting metal could be heard as he tried to reattach her arm by shoving it back in the socket.

Norman shuffled to where Roger was hunched over, eyes widening as he saw the younger man trying to put the pale android back together. "Sir, I don't think that's the best thing to do."

"But I can put her back together, Norman." His voice was hopeless and soft. Tears weren't flooding Roger's eyes, but Norman knew him well enough to know that inside he was screaming.

"Why don't you let me try it?" He kneeled next to him "I'll fix her if you take her down to the shop for me. I have proper tools down there and it will go a lot quicker than this nonsense you are doing."

Roger looked at him coldly, his indifferent `negotiator' mask slamming any feelings he was showing behind it. He slipped an arm under Dorothy while Norman picked up her arm. "I trust you Norman."

"I know you do." He began exiting the balcony. "I know you do."

Roger was a strong man, but was visibly fatigued from the weight of the android.

"Put her on the table, Roger." Norman had gotten several tools out and was beginning to rewire the arm. Roger followed the orders and stepped back after he had set his burden down.

"How long will this take you?" He was obviously anxious to get her back.

"I don't know. I don't really know that much about androids. I might be able to figure it out, though. All night maybe."

"Why do you think this happened? Who would want to do this? Why would they want to do this?" His gaze drifted over the lifeless body. Not that she ever, technically, had life. But her just being there was another presence. Different from the presence that Norman brought. It was a more intimate one. Not in a sexual way-but he did have fantasies about that now and then. His thoughts were stumbling all over themselves, contradicting one another.

"Maybe we should answer those inquires one at a time. It's late, why don't you go to bed. I'll be here in the morning."

"And I'm thankful for that." He turned to leave the shop. "Thanks."

"It's all right, sir. Just get some rest." Roger smiled at his friend and ascended the stairs.

He had changed into his silk pajamas and was slipping under the sheets when he noticed a piece of paper on the pillow. He flipped on the bedside lamp and opened the folded note.

To my dearest friend, Roger Smith

While sitting in my horrible decorated cell I couldn't help but think about the reason I was there. If it weren't for you I wouldn't have been in that abomination of taste in the first place. I had plenty of time to sit and seethe about you and that asinine robot of yours (really that thing would look better if it had a decent paint job). But, after realizing there was nothing I could do to reverse things, I began plotting ways to get back. The first thing that came to mind was destroying your megadeus; but it was already painfully clear that that was a little out of my reach. So my thoughts drifted to your wonderful little android. Ah yes, Dorothy. Since I couldn't have her for my own personal plans of crime, I decided it wasn't fair for you to have her either. By now she is little bits and you are probably crying like the little boy you are. Well, as much fun as this is to write, I must be off, for my work is finished.

Beck

p.s.-Don't waste your time putting her back together. I think you'll find that without her little program disk she is just a pile of metal. I'm a nice guy, saving you time with that little tip.

Roger bared his teeth as he closed crushed the paper in his fist. His pain faded away as anger took over. So Beck was behind this? He should have known. He was the only enemy sick enough to do something like this. Was it true what he had written about the program disk? There was only one way to find out. Roger jumped out of bed and ran back to the shop.

To be continued…

Malevolent Angel says: Well kiddies, I hoped you liked the first installment. It's up to you guys if this gets continued or not. If you review will ideas/likes/dislikes I'll try and incorporate what you said in the next chapter. But there is only going to be a next chapter if you review! Oh yeah, for this to work you kinda have to accept that Roger has a thing for Dorothy. That said I'll get more into the main plot in the next few chapters, that is, if you want me to continue this thing. One more thing, this fic will probably get NC-17 in later chapters.