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Around 11pm, Roger gets a call from a client about investigating suspicious activity on a property of theirs that's been going on for months. He heard employees whispering about a meet up for something around 1am, and wanted Roger to check it out.
He figures this could be a good learning experience for Dorothy, and he might need backup as well, so he runs down to the next level to collect her and get out there.
He sees her door cracked and goes to knock. “Dorothy, theres–” but his mind blanks when he sees her.
She's sitting at a large vanity playing with makeup, soft blush brightening her usually pale cheeks, and wearing a gorgeous dark green satin nightgown with a matching robe pooling on the ground around her. The dress was quite short and had a slit up the side detailed with floral lace, which he only noticed because her legs were crossed and it highlighted the soft squish of her thighs– oh shit he's staring.
“...Yes Roger?” She prompts when he just stands there staring at her like an idiot. His face flames and he looks away, coughing awkwardly into his fist, “I got called out to a job and thought you might want to come along,” he forces out, looking anywhere but at her.
He did not realize how much that outdated maid dress hid. He can't look away.
She considers it for a moment, “I guess I could…” she says, the robe slipping down one of her slender shoulders. Oh hell no.
“It's fine, I can manage by myself,” he says in a rush, not trusting himself to sit in a car with her for two hours and not embarrass himself further.
He feels his eyes drifting again so he focuses on the contents of her vanity as he tries to leave. But instead he blurts out, “why do you have so many perfume bottles?” Roger barely resists slapping himself as she looks down at the table, confused.
There really was a large amount of bottles, all with different intricate designs and styles, but he needs to get out of this room before she notices the lingering gaze on her tits.
“Well, I think they're pretty…” she says slowly, trying to come up with an answer to his random ass question. “I found most of them at antique stores and knew I wouldn't find another, so I ended up buying quite a few.” she explains, running a finger along a curvy art nouveau styled bottle.
Roger hums, following the movement, “is there old perfume in any of them?” he asks, eyes raking over her skin instead of leaving.
“No, they've been cleaned,” she says as she reaches for a short, squat bottle with a comically large atomizer. Roger almost jumps when she suddenly swivels toward him, "I've got my daily scent in this one,” she says, glancing up at him innocently. Roger starts sweating, he can't tell if she caught him or not.
“Would you like to smell it?” Dorothy asks sweetly before blasting him with a cloud of perfume.
“Hey!!” he yells before choking on the cloud, waving an arm to break it up.
Her expression flattens, “Oh, did you not get enough?” she asks with mock concern, then stood to spray him again, coating the front of his suit.
“Oh my god,” he cuts his losses and runs like a coward from the indignant android who chases him out of the room with one last spray, shouting “louse!” as he scampers down the hall.
He's too terrified to look back and notice her preening at having caught his attention. She gleefully slams the door for effect.
He runs to the elevator where Norman is waiting for him, relieved at the normalcy of it all until Norman helps him into his coat.
“Oh… were you with Miss Dorothy, sir?” He asks cautiously.
“Yeah, why?” He glances over his shoulder at Norman, who's watching him dubiously. “You smell like her perfume,” he says, a hint of judgment slipping into his voice.
Roger raises a brow, “I was just asking if she wanted to come along.” Norman hums noncommittally, clearly not believing him. “What are you implying?” Roger asks, getting offended.
“Nothing, sir.” He glances away, dismissively.
“I was in and out within a minute!” Maybe it's because of the late hour or the ridiculous blush high on his cheeks, but Norman's not buying it. His reputation with women really isn't doing him any favors right now, but it's not like anything actually happened!
“She didn't, in case you were wondering,” he grumbles.
“Very good sir,” Norman says and walks away, blowing him off. Roger scoffs, thoroughly embarrassed again, and storms off.
An hour later he's scoping out the best vantage point to spy on the warehouse in question, having almost forgotten all the embarrassment from earlier, until he hears the clack of heels strutting towards him and immediately wants to go home.
“Ugh god,” he mutters under his breath.
“Fancy meeting you here~” Angel calls out playfully, waving at him in her skintight pink jumpsuit.
Roger sighs, running a hand through his hair, extremely annoyed. “If you're here, this day is bound to get worse,” he knows he's gonna end up fighting a goddamn megadeus if she's trying to weedle her way into this.
She stops right in front of him, grinning obnoxiously, hands behind her back to unsubtly push out her chest. “What, did I interrupt a date or something?” she chuckles, glancing around like she's expecting someone else.
“Why would you think that?” He steps back, trying to put some distance between them.
She turns back to him, confused. “You stink like perfume,” gesturing at him like it was obvious. “I could smell you from 30 feet away, you're going to give away our position.”
“Oh goddamnit!” he shouts at the sky, exasperated. “Big ear commented too!” He can already feel the rumors about him spreading.
Angel's grin turns sharp as she steps closer, “Ooh, were you with your little android girlfriend?” she asks as salaciously as possible, touching a manicured hand to his chest, “Is that why you're so pissy? Did you two get interrupted?~” She chuckles darkly, voice dripping with mock pity, pissing Roger the fuck off.
He grits his teeth, sneering down at her, “She's not my girlfriend! I just went to her room to see if… if she wanted to come along but she was… um…" He hesitates. There's no way to explain how the rest of it went. Angel's eyes widen, staring at him in disbelief. He flounders, unable to get any words to come out.
Then she fucking snorts, laughing at him like an asshole, “Did you kiss her goodnight too?” she cackles out before doubling over, laughing hysterically.
Roger stands there for a moment and closes his eyes, letting the humiliation wash over him before his patience finally snaps. “ALRIGHT! Let's get this over with!” he shouts and storms off, not sure which direction he's going. Anywhere but here. Angel's laughing so hard she can barely follow.
The only thing that got him through this awful night was plotting his revenge.
One megadeus attack later, it's about 8am. He's lying in wait near the elevator, hiding in a coat closet, waiting for his victim.
He knows Norman has Dorothy get the day's groceries first thing in the morning, so he hasn't slept yet to make sure he's ready to attack at a moment's notice.
He's fairly certain this is a great plan, but he's too sleep deprived to really analyze it. Eye for an eye... That makes sense right?
He hears small footsteps coming down the hall and gets ready to attack. When he watches her pass by through the crack in the door, he strikes.
He loudly bursts out of the closet and sprays her down from behind with his own cologne.
“Wha-” She turns, confused by the commotion and he sprays her a few times down the front for good measure. She backs away, waving a hand to break up the cloud, “what are you doing?” staring at him like he's gone nuts.
And he has. He's been awake for 20 hours and has been attacked by thugs, a megadeus and was mocked relentlessly all night because of her.
He grins down at her, pointing dramatically in her face, “that was revenge for drenching me in perfume earlier!” then laughs manically, feeling incredible. Her expression flattens, glaring at him unimpressed. “And that was revenge for staring at me like a piece of meat earlier, remember?” Tilting her head pointedly.
Roger sputters, turning red. He wasn't expecting her to call him out on it. “S-spraying me with perfume was completely uncalled for! We were in a dangerous situation and I gave away our position!” he shouts, desperately trying to defend himself, “and Angel was no help because she was laughing so hard!”
Dorothy steps back, glancing down at his disheveled clothes, and looks pleased. “Good.” with the tiniest hint of a smile.
He balks, desperate, “I could have died!” he shouts with his arms out, trying to get any sympathy.
She rolls her eyes and walks away, muttering, “so dramatic,” as she goes. He wants to scream. His revenge really isn't going as planned, but no. He knows she'll have a terrible day regardless.
“Watch!” He shouts while walking backwards towards the stairs, pointing again. “Let’s see how you like getting judgmental looks and rude comments all day!”
She hits the call button and glances back at him, looking bored. “Sure, Roger." she says, clearly trying to placate him. He growls in frustration and angrily stomps up the stairs.
Dorothy watches him go from the elevator, patiently waiting until she's out of sight before melting against the wall, eyes rolling back as she breathes in the delicious scent of Roger's cologne saturating her coat.
She was still riding the high of catching Roger checking her out the night before and now this? How exactly was this supposed to be revenge? She can't believe her luck.
Knowing Roger had a terrible night doesn't hurt either. Just because she appreciates the interest doesn't mean it wasn't incredibly rude.
She breathes in again and gasps, her knees going weak when she realizes his cologne has mixed beautifully with her own perfume. She slides down to the floor and sighs dreamily, overwhelmed with a light fluttery feeling she doesn't understand. It's incredible.
She should assault him with perfume more often.