April would be a busy month in the mansion. Beck was coming over almost every day to help me, Norman, and Dorothy decipher the file I found on Big O and her. The notes were written in some cryptic language, no doubt to try to prevent anyone other than the author from reading it. But we've never seen the language before and going to the memory archives was out of the question, out of fear that the enemy would be alerted.
Beck also started tinkering with Big O's systems. I couldn't imagine how he felt, having a former enemy of ours, now on our side, trying to fix him up and get him in tip-top shape. Some "glitches" happened, like the lift moving on its own causing Beck nearly to fall off, or the hatch nearly closing on top of him. Beck swears Big O hates him. However, Big O seems to have grown affectionate to Dorothy lately, almost being considerate in helping her access certain comms and weapon systems that normally give Norman and me ample amounts of trouble on the console. However, I noticed she does talk to him, like he's just an ordinary human being. Or maybe I'm just imagining things.
To relieve stress and get back into shape, Beck agreed to start training with me. He's not a bad fighter by any means. Of course, he fights dirty, but I'm slowly getting acclimated to his fighting style. The other day he nearly went off on me after I used one of his moves against him. Dorothy, who had returned from her run with Norman escorting her, laughed until she was crying, which didn't help Beck's reaction at all. Though, I did say thank you to him later for getting Dorothy to laugh the way he did, and the reaction he gave me was priceless. I hadn't heard her laugh like that since before the end of February.
Angel and Dastun were now officially living together, although in secret. Angel had been scared to go alone back to the presidential suite after the escapade in the subway, and her last contact with Big Venus. Every so often, she'll make an appearance, but will sneak out, so as to throw her security team at the presidential suite off her trail. Dastun had his own feelings on the matter, but got flustered every time I asked, so I learned to drop it. He conducted an inquiry into the rep's murder, but it seemed like key pieces of evidence were missing. Eventually, the inquiry was dropped due to lack of evidence. I've never seen Dastun so angry, but at Angel's insistence, he came over to our place, Angel and Dorothy going to the kitchen to talk, while Dastun and I talked about it. It was the second time I had ever seen Dastun drunk over work. Norman and I had to follow Angel to get him back into his apartment as he couldn't walk straight.
Dorothy would continue volunteering at the clinic. It turns out her budgeting skills came in handy as Dorothy had built up a nice sizable fund that we could live off for a while. Norman would screen calls, and every so often, we would take a small, easy case. We agreed that Beck's advice of lying low was probably for the best, and with Beck covering the cost of maintenance on Big O, it freed up the budget to invest into the mansion's defense systems, still at Level 4 security. It also allowed us more free time to spend with each other, including volunteering with her at the clinic. Of course, Dr. Plebanski told the kids embarrassing stories about me, which annoyed me to no end. However, it got Dorothy smiling and laughing, which as of late was becoming a rare occurrence. And, I found myself enjoying the time I spent with Dorothy and the kids.
Dorothy would spend most days in the office, going over the file I had brought back from the underground. She would go over cases and books, trying to see if anything we had dealt with in the past might provide a clue to Angel's case and the file. The times it would take a turn for the worst would be right after her nightmare, especially if it was particularly vivid. Never had I felt so helpless to watch her go through something like I went through with the memories from the R.D. case. Of course, Norman said the best we could do was be there for her and comfort her. But I felt like I could do more.
Of course, there was the nagging question on my mind. Every day, I carried the box in my pocket with me, trying to find the right moment or time to ask the question to Dorothy. But then, towards the end of the month, I got news that put it cleanly out of my mind…
Dorothy was helping Norman and Beck with his entourage do maintenance on Big O. Roger was out finishing a case related to an estate deal not too far from the mansion and wanted to go see Big Ear about the expansion project. Seeing as it was not far, Roger said he would be fine without Norman as an escort and left on his own, despite Beck grumbling about it. Big O responded to his behavior by moving the lift he was standing on, nearly making him fall, multiple times throughout the system checks.
"DUDE, WHAT. THE. HELL! I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
Beck stamped his feet in a tantrum causing Dorothy to giggle. She was in the cock pit checking over the systems and had the file in her hand that Roger had stolen from the underground facility.
"Big O, leave him be. He's trying to help. I get it though. You're mad at him for nearly having plunged to your death at the bottom of the ocean, among other things. But that's over now, and we do need his help. Please behave, for me?"
The screen began to flash as the words, "CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD, YE NOT GUILTY" scrolled across.
"Thank you."
Dorothy smiled as she checked off the system start up from her check list. She began checking the other systems, flipping pages in the file. As of late, now that she had more free time, she found herself enjoying the maintenance checks. Norman usually made a good lunch afterwards, and usually Big O made her laugh doing something to Beck.
"You're responding well to these system checks now. It makes me wonder… if my father was a part of this New World Order."
She sighed, frowning as the thought weighed heavy on her heart. She couldn't imagine her father being a part of something so heinous. Then again, something must've happened prior to forty years ago to warrant him to join the group. After all, she was sure he was the only who knew about her memory circuitry, and the only person who could've authored this file. Who knows what her father's motives were back then. Even if he were still alive, there would've probably been a decent chance he didn't remember why he worked with them in the first place, or would've refused to tell her if she had asked.
She finished the console check and began inspecting underneath the dashes to make sure there was no loose or hanging wires. She started on her left and moved her way over to the right. However, as she made her way past the center, she saw something underneath the small right display screen and recognized it at once.
She had seen this symbol in the file. It looked like the letter 'O' but with the bottom part cut off and feet added. Dorothy grabbed the file quickly and began flipping to one of the pages she had marked. She saw the symbol on the page, and it matched what she saw under the display. She checked the left display and saw the symbol too that she had missed. It was tiny, but it was there.
"Norman! Norman!"
Norman, who was checking over the connection points on the left arm of Big O, stopped what he was doing and ran to her, with Beck following behind him.
"Miss Dorothy dear! What's wrong?"
She pointed at the symbol she found in the file and on the outer casing of the display screens.
"Why, that's most peculiar indeed. In all my years tending to Big O, I've never noticed this. But, it's so small, it could be easily missed."
"Look Norman, look at the file. And it's not on this page, but it's… on every page with Big O on it."
Norman perused the file while Beck climbed into the cockpit to see the symbol for himself.
"It looks like someone cut the bottom part of an 'O' off and added feet to it." Beck grabbed his goatee and began to think.
"So, what could it mean then?" asked Dorothy.
Beck shrugged. "Who knows, Toots. This was before our time. Perhaps it was their way of identifying the Big or at least parts for him."
"All the same, this is a most unique find, Miss Dorothy! Good job!" Norman handed her back the file. "How's the internal system checkup?"
"So far, so good. No issues."
"Well, once you're done, I'll need some help applying oil to the connection points of Big O's left arm. He's been rather cantankerous with Mr. Beck doing the job. Perhaps you can help out?"
"Sure. Just let me finish in here."
Beck and Norman walked back onto the catwalk.
"I'm telling you, Gramps, he doesn't like me! That's the only reason why he's been acting up."
Dorothy finished wrapping up her checks in the cockpit and climbed out.
"You know, Beck, if you tried apologizing to him for nearly drowning him, he might not be as hostile to you," suggested Dorothy.
Beck's eyes grew wide with surprise, looking at Big O to Dorothy.
"Are you serious? He's still mad at me for that?"
"There's also the times you took tried or did take over my memory circuits, stole me from Roger and delivered me to Alex Rosewater…" Dorothy began ticking each situation on her fingers off. Beck looked at Big O, beginning to sweat and freaked out.
"I'MMA CHANGED MAN! I DON'T DO THAT ANYMORE! YOU'RE TRYING TO KILL ME BECAUSE YOU STILL HOLD A GRUDGE? CUT ME A BREAK! I'M TRYING TO MAKE UP FOR IT NOW! I'M SORRY!"
Dorothy giggled at Beck's goofy apology. Big O's eyes flashed in response and Norman and Dorothy beamed at each other.
"I think he's saying he'll make a truce for now," said Dorothy.
"How do you know what he's saying, Toots?"
"I don't know. It seems like… I've always been able to understand him."
Beck shook his head heading back over to the console, following Norman, while Dorothy looked at Big O, smiling. She followed Beck and Norman. Norman had pulled out a large canister of oil to use to lubricate the joints. He grabbed a hammer and screw driver to pry the lid open while Beck grabbed an oil dispenser. Norman had finished prying open the lid when Dorothy took a whiff of the oil, and began to gag, feeling nauseous at once. She steadied herself on the catwalk. Norman saw her face turn pale.
"Miss Dorothy, are you alright?"
But he had barely got the words out of his mouth when Dorothy bolted for the platform and to the restroom located in the corner. She barely made it to the toilet, which thankfully had the lid open, and vomited inside violently. Norman and Beck rushed over, Beck taking a few steps back as he caught the smell and made him nauseous. Norman crouched down, rubbing Dorothy's back, as she continued to heave, finally coming to a stop.
"Oh dear, I think we need to see Dr. Plebanski." Norman handed her the towel hanging near the sink.
"No, I'm fine. I guess… it's the lack of sleep and stress. Dr. Plebanski some things that never bothered me before might because I've never been so stressed out before."
She took the towel and wiped her mouth, before the urge to vomit overcame her again, and she began heaving into the toilet.
"Miss Dorothy, this isn't normal. If Master Roger were here, he would insist on you going to the clinic, and so, I'm also insisting."
Dorothy finally got to a stopping point and wiped her mouth again.
"Maybe you're right, Norman. I don't feel so good."
"That settles it then. Mr. Beck, would you be so kind to continue finishing the maintenance on Big O for me while I take Miss Dorothy to the clinic?"
"Uh… yeah, sure. Is Toots gonna be alright?"
"She will be. Dr. Plebanski has not failed us yet."
Norman slowly helped Dorothy to her feet and began to walk her to her car to take her to the clinic. They got on the lift to go down to the lower level of the hanger. Norman was about ready to call Roger on his comm link when Dorothy grabbed his wrist gently.
"Not yet, Norman. Let's find out what's wrong first and then go from there."
Norman nodded. "Okay dear."
Norman helped Dorothy to the car.
Norman walked in with Dorothy at the clinic. Dr. Plebanski was reading a magazine at the check-in counter when she saw the pair walk in.
"Dorothy! Norman! To what… what's going on?"
Dr. Plebanski noticed how pale Dorothy looked.
"Miss Dorothy was helping me with some chores and became ill. She was vomiting rather violently, and I figured it would be best to have her checked out, just to make sure it was nothing serious," said Norman.
"Of course, this one's on me. Come along, Dorothy. Norman, if you don't mind, could you watch the children and get Carlye for me?"
"Of course, I would be more than happy to."
Norman went off to fetch Carlye while Dr. Plebanski ushered Dorothy into one of the exam rooms, putting her on the medical bed to check her over.
"Dear, what happened?"
Dorothy shook her head. "I don't know. I was just helping Norman with chores and well… this has never happened before."
"Well, we're doing a complete work up on you. More than likely you just need to rest. Besides what happened today, any other changes I should know about?"
"None that I can remember. I've been going to the bathroom a lot, but I've also been drinking a lot of water as of late."
Dr. Plebanski grabbed Dorothy's wrist and began measuring her pulse. Carlye came in, putting on her stethoscope.
"Pulse is fine dear. Carlye, can you get the blood pressure for me?"
"On it."
Carlye put on a blood pressure cuff and began taking Dorothy's blood pressure. She pumped it, Dorothy wincing at the pressure, then Carlye let off, reading the numbers.
"120/80, Mary."
"Good. Alright dear, when was your last period?"
Dorothy paused for a moment, thinking long and hard. But the months felt like they had blended in together.
"I honestly don't remember. It's been such a mess."
Dr. Plebanski was scribbling on Dorothy's chart and stopped suddenly. She looked at Carlye, her eyes just as wide hers. Then she eyed Dorothy's belly where a slight bulge had been growing, which Dorothy had attributed to weight gain.
"Dorothy dear, I need you to try to remember for me. It's really important."
"Why?"
Dr. Plebanski and Carlye exchanged a worried glance with one another. Carlye approached the medical exam bed and gently grabbed Dorothy's hand.
"Dorothy, I know you've been busy, but have you been keeping track of your cycles?"
It finally dawned on Dorothy what they were asking.
"Uh… I… no… not really. Between Roger getting stabbed, taking care of him, the expansion project, and everything else…. wait… I think my last period… was close to the end of February? Just shortly before Roger got hurt?"
Carlye looked at Dr. Plebanski, who inhaled deeply.
"How close?" Dr. Plebanski asked.
"Maybe, a week and half… two weeks before he got hurt? I don't remember…"
Dr. Plebanski exchanged another worried glance with Carlye. Carlye went into the cabinet pulling out a urine sample kit.
"Take this and go to the bathroom, okay? Then come back."
Dorothy took it, her hands trembling, and went to the bathroom, taking apart the kit.
It's fine. It's just stress. That's all it has been. It can't be that. We've been careful. What else could it be?
She emerged with the sample and walked back to the room. Carlye took the cup from her and gave it to Dr. Plebanski, who dipped a pregnancy test in the sample then set it on the counter. After a while, she looked at it, her eyes wide.
"Carlye, go get the ultrasound from Exam Room 1. Dorothy dear, I'm gonna need you to lie down."
Carlye ran out of the room, as the realization hit Dorothy with a sudden force.
"Dr. Plebanski… am I pregnant?"
"According to this test, yes and if it's been two months…. Symptoms of pregnancy match certain kinds of stress disorders. Damnnit, why didn't I think of this sooner?"
Dorothy felt tears coming into her eyes. Not now… of all times…
Dr. Plebanski saw Dorothy crying silently and grabbed a tissue for her.
"Oh dear, you'll be alright. Don't stress."
"I can't be pregnant, not now…"
"Then well… let's just wait for the ultrasound."
Carlye walked in with the ultrasound cart. Dorothy unbuttoned her blouse and adjusted her pants for Dr. Plebanski to have access to her abdomen. She turned on the ultrasound, applying lubricant to Dorothy's abdomen and began scanning.
Two small fetuses showed on the screen in two separate gestational sacks. Dorothy felt the world stop around her, focusing on the screen in front of her, her hearing around her going in and out like a poorly tuned radio, trying to catch a signal. How could she be so careless? With everything going on, it was the worst time for her to get pregnant. Not only that, she worried about Roger, and how he would take the news, especially now that the enemy had revealed itself, and had made a threat towards her.
"Dorothy dear? Dorothy!"
Dorothy snapped out of her funk. Carlye was hovering over her, in the process of checking her vitals once more, but sighed with relief.
"Don't scare me like that. Did you hear a word of what Mary said?"
Dorothy shook her head. Dr. Plebanski repeated what she said to her.
"You have two separate placentas. You're having twins dear. It looks like you're having fraternal twins, but it's a tad early to tell right now. Here in about four-six weeks, we can possibly tell by looking again and running some tests. Judging from what I'm seeing, it looks like you're about eight weeks along."
"Dr. Plebanski… I…"
Dorothy didn't know whether to cry, be happy, or mad at herself. Dr. Plebanski sighed, motioned for Carlye to take the wand from her and went over to Dorothy.
"If you're worried about Roger and how he'll react, I've known that man for a long time, most of his life in fact. He'll be ecstatic."
Dorothy shook her head. "That's not it. There's… so much going on and… well… I don't think it's a good time now… not for this…"
"This is about work and probably related to your friend, the Madam President, with what happened to her not too long ago?"
Dorothy nodded.
"I don't have Roger tell me about his cases, in part because I'll worry. I'm probably a bigger worry wort than you when it comes to that man. But I'll tell you this. That man? Ever since he's been a negotiator, there's not been a case he can't solve. Have faith in him dear. I know it's scary right now, this uncertainty, but I know that man loves you more than anything, even if he hasn't admitted it to you yet, from what you've told me. I've been around for a long time. Roger's never been the type to admit his feelings, preferring action over professing them. And in many ways, you're like him. I think that's why you two click so well."
Dorothy wiped her eyes, nodding.
"So… I need to have faith in him."
"And in yourself. In each other. Things will get better, dear, they always do. Now, do you want to listen to the heartbeat? We can also take a picture for you to take home and show Roger, and start a photo album to document your journey. To be a mother, it's a big blessing, Dorothy. Embrace it."
Dorothy put her hands around her belly that had begun to form. She nodded and Dr. Plebanski went over to the ultrasound, pressing a few buttons as Carlye moved the wand on her belly again. This time, Dorothy heard the rapid heartbeat of the two babies she carried, her anxiety now easing at hearing the sound of life that was growing inside of her. However, the uncertainty of the future still weighed heavily on her heart.
Roger received a signal on his watch, "SECRET" flashing on the screen. He was walking out of The Speakeasy as he had consulted Big Ear for any updates or rumors related to the expansion project as the estate case had wrapped up quicker than he expected. But Big Ear had not heard anything that he could use. Roger sighed and got into the car, accessing the radio.
"Yes Norman, what is it? Why are you using the top-secret radio contact signal?"
"Forgive the intrusion, Master Roger, but well… I'm not sure where to begin."
Roger noticed Norman looking very unsure on the screen.
"Is everything alright?"
"Well, Miss Dorothy was working with me, and Mr. Beck, on Big O's maintenance, and she became violently ill suddenly. I rushed her over to the clinic, but I wasn't there for the exam as Dr. Plebanski had asked me to go get Carlye, and keep an eye on the children. But after the exam was completed, Miss Dorothy has seemed very withdrawn. I asked her if she wanted me to call you and she said no, to not worry you while you were working, sir, but… considering everything… I feel that there's something wrong. Forgive me for not listening to her, but I feel it's probably best that you come home. She's been standing outside the back courtyard and will not talk to anyone."
Roger raised an eyebrow, confused. "It's okay, Norman. I'm coming home now. And Norman?"
"Yes sir?"
"Could you make some of that tea she likes? I think it's the orange spice one. If you could have it ready by the time I get home, that might cheer her up. I'm at The Speakeasy, so I won't be long."
"Very well, sir! I shall put the kettle to boil."
The comm died. Roger started the car, wondering if the stress from their current situation and Angel's case had finally got to Dorothy.