Imperfect Perfection

(CLOSED - Very big thanks to Nina327 for making this possible.)


In every small town there reside those small shops and homes where the doors seldom open, the blinds clatter lightly in some unseen breeze, and no lights are seen until the wee hours of the morning. In a small building much the same as the multitude of others populating this quiet part of town, a light burns brightly against the dark cold night outside. Its windows are greasy and caked with dust and soot, the shades drawn perpetually behind them, and the only light comes from the smallest window in the cuppola on the second floor, and only then in the middle of the night.

Small clangs and whirrings echoed through the night, smoke rising perpetually from the shop's chimney. Despite the activity inside, none were ever glimpsed entering or leaving the establishment. It is there, in this unremarkable shack that a humble tinkerer worked day and night at his creation.

He worked for years to come to this point, coming so close to his goal, the thing he has burned and ached and striven after for so long now... Mistakes, falterings and prior attempts litter his entire home, none of which come close to the beauty and splendor of his creation, the masterpiece he worked so long and hard for. Machines of all size and shape were strewn about the upper floor of the building, all but a small portion of which had been allotted for his ‘lab.’ He’d fallen asleep in a large easy chair, one hand still clutched tightly about one of the myriad small, delicate tools he used. The other dangled from the end of the chair’s arm, twitching slightly as a light breeze blew through the cracked window. Machinery clicked and hummed in the background, whirred and blinked and whispered. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he shrugged fitfully in his sleep, wordless nothings mumbling forth.

Sensation crept into her. At first it was large things like her entire length in contact with what seemed to be all one thing. Temperature, different but similar in front of her and behind. She inhaled deeply as information flew through her mind, as it was absorbed, memorized, categorized, measured for value.. more and more things, ideas, concepts, words, images and feelings...

Her eyes opened seeing first a light then her eyes began to trail... light bulb, wires, ceiling, wood, boards, wall, clock, computer, letters, words, sentences on a board, printer, scanners, desk, abundant papers, window, night sky, drawings on large papers, toes... her toes. She wiggled them and smiled at the sensation. Sitting up she felt her torso drag from weight on either side. Looking she found her arms and hands. Lifting them in front of her she curled and flexed her fingers, touched each digit to is thumb, curled and bent her wrists, bent her elbows; this was also pleasing. She looked back at her toes and wiggled them again. She flexed and retracted her ankles. She greatly liked these sensations, so she laid back flexing and retracting her whole body. Her first whole body stretch lasted quite a while as she wondered and savored each muscles play upon the other.

Her eyes flicked back to the clock she had seen earlier. Only four minutes and 32 seconds had passed from blackness to awareness but to her it was an endless, expansive eternity and still just an instant. Time concepts would take much getting used to; much like touch, it would seem, as her hands spread out on the cool metallic surface sending delightful shivers up her arms. Sitting up once more she felt along the smooth surface as her mind ran through what she was sitting on. If it was a metal lab table, an examination table, then she was to be examined, but by what or whom. Her curious eyes looked around the room again but this time searching...

Looking over the room once more she found nothing that looked like it could move on its own. She turned and dropped her legs off the table, sliding slowly forward her toes touched the bare floor first, spreading out her toes as her weight gradually shifted from the table to her own feet. She stood for a moment gaining balance before putting one foot in front of the other.

Her steps faltered as her ears picked up noise. She caught the side of the table preventing a fall and stood there listening. Hearing for the first time all the noises of the room; the ticking of the clock, electronic whispers, soft buzzing and something entirely not mechanical. There was no rhythm to it, just a soft whooshing and something that sounded like it might be... words.

Righting herself she crept to the doorway, into a hall, the sound was close... coming from the other doorway. Softly she stepped through that second doorway and froze. The sound was, was a man, yes a sleeping man. At least that's what she thought it was, what she could make out from the slumped twitching form in the dim light. She crept closer, it seemed it had hair on its face so indeed it should be a male. Now even closer she bent to study his face, her fingers stretching forward slowly. She wanted to touch it, to touch him...

Mumbling softly to himself, he sighed and shifted in his seat. “Mmmm… Yes, that should work, but… Then cross there… Won’t provide the support…” A seemingly random string of nonsense words and sentences tumbled from his lips, surely unintelligible to anyone but him in his little dream world. His mind’s eye played back scraps and pieces of the past few days, when he’d been putting finishing touches on her. She’d long ago become real for him, in more ways than he could imagine. Everything that had come before, all of his prior attempts had been things, “its” really, but she… She was real, he knew, and would soon wake and look upon him and the world with fresh eyes, like a newborn, but with all the knowledge and information he could possibly give her… He didn’t want the world to come rushing at her full force, after all; who knew what the shock would do to her.

The small metal tool fell from his grasp, tumbling through the air and landing on the wooden floor with a clatter. He stirred in his sleep, but did not wake. He was simply too tired, having spent the last three days working tirelessly and without sleep. Perhaps one or two more and his work might be finished… All these things ran through his mind like background noise, the incessant chatter of a mind that never truly slept, even when he was resting. He replayed the last few hours again and again as he dreamt, watched the flutter of her eyelids as he tested reflexes, her lips twitching into smiles and frowns as he typed away at his keyboard, an incessant click-clacking that was almost musical in its ebb and flow.

He had no way of knowing what was occurring in the world around him, he was too deeply encased in sleep’s warm embrace. It wrapped snuggly about him like a warm blanket, enveloped him like a cocoon, shielded him from everything without and kept his vision pointed squarely inward. Sensory input blended with the dream, the gentle night breeze blowing through the small open window becoming a hissed sigh within his mind’s eye. The rough denim of his pants, bunched and twisted beneath him in the chair, became an uncomfortable twinge he couldn’t escape within the dream, and he shifted back and forth trying to overcome it. The soft ticking of the clock by the door blended with the sound of his keystrokes as he replayed hours of work…

The dream that shielded him from reality was firm and strong, but also brittle. It only took the slightest breath, and the wave of an outstretched hand before him, to wake him from his slumber. He blinked sleep from his eyes, imagining that he was still dreaming, as he saw her face before him once more, though he was resting in a chair at the moment. Light filtered in through the grogginess and he saw the tracery of her fine features, the bright eyes he had looked into countless times before, and saw something there he never had before. It was the spark of life, and at the sight of it he knew he must be dreaming, for he’d left her still lying on the table in his lab, where she would wait patiently for a few more days, at least, until he could finish the last of his work and finally give her true and meaningful life…

Her hand and then whole body jumped back hearing the clatter to the side of his chair. She knelt down intent on seeing what the sound was, peering around his legs she edged forward. She reached out, leaning around his shifting leg, and picked up the delicate metal instrument from the floor below his twitching fingers. Turning it this way and that small glitters reflecting off its surface between her sender fingers. She couldn't place what it was only that she had an image of it in her mind. She set it back on the floor turning her attention back to the man in the chair.

Settling back on her heels she watched him shift, twist and groan in his sleep. He was a curious thing. She glanced at the bed to her side knowing that it was a bed and thats where humans, people, slept. So why wasn't he sleeping there? Would he shift so much if he were lying down? She would just have to ask him.

She rose into a crouch and crept closer to him once more. Reaching out one hand towards his face the other rested on the arm of the chair. Leaning over him she could smell him. He was spice, tea, salt, machine oils and pheromones. Her nostrils flared and her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply, letting the scent fill her completely. His smell was, was comforting, warm, it was, well she didn't quite know but she wanted to touch him even more and her fingers twitched in response to that want.

She opened her eyes and found his opening and closing rapidly, blinking, before staying open.. He was waking. Her mouth curled in a small smile. His eyes in the dim light were very dark, not black but she couldn't name the exact shade of the iris. Her eyes traveled over the planes and lines of his face, his pink lips, the short dark hairs covering his jaw. Her fingers stretched out to close the distance and felt his breath on their tips just before they made contact with soft lips. He started at the contact but she was already used to him making nonsense movements in his restless sleep and continued to touch his lips. Tracing the whole of his mouth. Feeling his breath flow over and then under her hand. He also had breath coming from his nose.

All but her index finger curled and she touched the tip of his nose. She traced up the bridge and over the dark hairs that made up his eyebrow. Flowing down his temple her smile grew from the sensation of the prickly hairs along his jaw. Her hand retreated to her own face to trace over her smooth-skinned jaw and her eyes fell to his chest.

She crouched there for a several of his breaths just watching it rise and fall before reaching out her hand again. To touch him again. To feel his chest rise and fall under her flattened hand. Her eyes narrowed and she pressed slightly harder. She could feel the rise and then the fall but also a steady, rapid thump. She started to lean farther down when his warm hand closed over her smaller one. She pulled back from his chest and his hand fell from hers. She felt her eyebrows scrunch together along with her small feeling of frustration. She wasn't trying to make his hand leave. She was trying to bring it closer. She reached out and grabbed his hand, turning it so she could look at the part that had touched her, his warm palm, his fingers.

She leaned one knee to rest between his own on the chair and let go of the chairs arm. With both of her own hands free she examined his. She noted the swirls and tiny ridges of his fingertips, the creases and lines that made up the palm, she smoothed her own hand out across his as the word examine rang through her mind.

“Who or what was to examine me on that table in the other room?” Her voice was soft, clear and direct. It also didn't stop. She continued to examine his hand, front, back, nails and hairs as more questions flowed forth not giving him a chance to answer. “What is the tool on the floor? Why are you not sleeping in a bed? Would you twist, turn and groan so much if you were sleeping in a bed? Why are you sleeping in a chair? They are for sitting.”

The wind picked up outside and blew a breeze through the window. The passing air made her shiver and blew her hair in front of her eyes. She suddenly stopped talking, released his hand and stood looking at the long dark strands covering her face. She turned her head and watched them move catching a glimmer of something through the strands. Parting her hair with both hands she noticed a female looking at her. This female was parting her hair with her hands, too.

She walked soundlessly over to the dresser topped with a large wood framed mirror, leaning forward she touched the females cold, smooth, outstretched palm. Her fingers spread on the surface and so did the, no. Her eyes flicked up to the eyes that were looking at her and the mouth moved as she said “reflection”. She knew then that this was her, her reflection. A wide smile broke out on both their faces as she examined herself.

Her face was almost round with full pink lips, a delicate chin, a small turned up nose and her eyes glittered, even in this dim light. She leaned closer to the mirror to look closer at them. They were two colors, gold and green. The gold spiked out in rays into the green and the green spiked in, in matching rays. She blinked a few times and smiled. She liked her eyes.

Leaning back and standing straighter she turned her head watching her hair move. It was long and dark, neither brown or black, but in this light she couldn't determine the exact shade, only that it was well past her shoulders but not quite to her pink nipples.

A shadow darkened her view of herself and her eyes flicked higher on the reflective surface to see him standing behind her, at least a foot taller, if not more than, her reflected self.

He blinked the last sleep from his eyes as his mind slowly began to clear. He shook it softly, dislodging the mental cobwebs that had accumulated during the fitful sleep he’d managed to grab in the easy chair. Something was wrong… He didn’t think he was still dreaming, but what was she doing up and about? It couldn’t be, he hadn’t woken her up; he hadn’t even clothed her yet… Yet there she was, big and bold and bright as life in front of him. She was exploring, touching him gently but gingerly, and he merely sat, watching her as she moved.

She was everything he had imagined, and then some… Her movements were graceful yet inquisitive, and her eyes darted about as she took everything about her in. It was amazing, and he felt his heart begin to flutter and pound a little faster within his chest. Somewhere in the dark, dusty recesses of his mind he’d prepared something for this moment. Well, not this moment, but for the first time he spoke to her, just after she’d woken up. How long has she been awake? The question flew through his mind, followed closely by a million others, and as she drew closer, kneeling upon the chair, he opened his mouth to speak, his glance traveling down along with hers as she examined his hand.

Her questions threw him off guard, and he sat merely working his jaw up and down and looking rather confused until she got up and drifted gracefully off to explore the mirror on the broken down old vanity. He watched her with quiet awe as she reached out, saw the shifting emotions settle upon her face for mere moments before they were replaced. Despite the questions raging in his mind, he wanted nothing more to go to her, to help her understand the world she now inhabited, and he rose, walking with cautious steps across the old creaking floorboards to stand behind her.

She seemed to be totally unaware of her own nakedness, but he felt a flush rise to his cheeks as she looked up at him, or at least her reflected face in the mirror did. He resisted the urge to reach out and place a hand on her shoulder, though it twitched fitfully at his side and he curled it into a fist before shoving it into his pocket. When he spoke, it was in a voice low and calm and soothing, “I’m sure you have many questions, and I will do my best to provide answers…” Inauspicious first words, he chided himself inwardly, but better than ‘Hello and welcome to the world,’ or some other such nonsense. Frowning slightly and furrowing his brow, he did finally reach out, gently taking her hand with his and turning her slowly to face him. She regarded him much the same way she had before, and he gave her a warm, gracious smile before he continued. “For starters, that little metal tool would have been for checking motor reflex; it’s much more accurate than the old rubber mallet they used to use, especially for someone like… ummm… You.” The smile wavered slightly as he felt a flush rise to his cheeks.

Clearing his throat, he continued as though nothing had happened, “I would have slept in the bed, had I intended to sleep. I only meant to sit down for a few minutes, do a little light reading and go over a few things.” The smile grew wider, turning into a grin as he felt himself growing more excited, “My, you are inquisitive, though I suppose that stands to reason, given your makeup and all… Still, I’m finding it a little hard to believe you’re actually here. I mean, I knew this day would come eventually, rather I hoped…” He stopped and took a deep, cleansing breath, forcing himself to calm down so as not to let his speech grow more rapid and eventually unintelligible. “I was going to examine you, in on the table, and I would still like to, but first…” He chewed at his bottom lip, wondering how best to proceed. “I’m wondering how exactly you got here.”

Looking around, he glanced at the bed and bit his bottom lip, then turned back to look into her eyes once more. They were clear and bright, just as they’d been the countless times he’d looked into them before, but now… There was a spark, there, the glow of life within them, and that made all the difference in the world. “Come, let’s sit, and I’ll tell you whatever you wish to know.” Giving her a tentative, guiding tug and a hopeful smile he edged back towards the bed.