Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The door slams hard. “God damn it, Carl”, I mumble. It’s the third time he’s done that this week.

I roll over and look at the small clock by my bed. It’s 5:47am, and it's still dark outside. Dani and Grace won’t be up yet, but of course, the robot doesn’t sleep.

I figure that there’s no point in trying to get back to sleep now. Not with Mr Thunder Thighs trudging around the house. Seriously, how many times do I have to tell that idiot to step lightly?
I sit up and run a hand through my hair, my head starting to hurt. If I’m going to get up now, I’ll need a coffee, stat.

Caffeine has become my new addiction these days. I got off the drink when I started training Dani. She helped me get sober, and in turn, I trained her up enough to get Grace back. The pair have been in their “puppy love phase” ever since.
I warned them, though. I warned them about the dangers of falling in love when the weight of the world is on your shoulders. I got some bullshit speech in response, about how they’ll always find each other again, in any timeline. I can feel myself rolling my eyes just thinking about it.

Carl coming back was a different story. It was Dani who insisted we try. I told her that as long as I didn’t have to get involved, she could do what she wanted. Well, of course I ended up getting dragged into it. Only Dani would be sentimental enough to want to break through time and space for a talking piece of scrap metal who used to sell drapes for a living. Now the machine sells cakes. I wish I was joking. Carl, the former Terminator, is a baker and people actually purchase his products. I guess being able to access so much data all the time has its perks. He can always keep up with the trends.

I never envisioned that this would be my life. A decent four bedroom house, shared between a robot, a half robot, the half robot’s girlfriend whose entire existence is based around saving the planet… and me.

I pull a robe around my shoulders and make my way to the dining room. Carl’s already put a pot of coffee on. The asshole must have known he’d woken me.

“Good morning Sarah”, he says, and he uses that creepy Android smile.

“Jesus Carl, I’ve told you not to do that. You’ll scare your customers away with that face.”

He ignores my jab and hands me my black coffee. I have to admit, he does always make the perfect cup.

“Speaking of customers, I’ve got one coming to taste cake samples today.”

I raise an eyebrow. He knows I don’t like civilians coming to the house. He knows how uncomfortable it makes me. Yet here we are, having this conversation anyway.

“Before you get angry”, he starts, reading my expression a little too well. I hate it. “She was in the area today, and I asked her if she wanted to stop by. She wasn’t sure what she wanted, so I asked her to come and try a few for herself.”

“And how is that supposed to reassure me? Carl, we’ve been through this. We have to be inconspicuous. We can’t just invite anyone over, business or not. The whole point of your stupid baking business is that you sell online to avoid… well… this.”

He ignores me and I know that I’ve lost the battle. For now. I sigh in frustration, pouring myself a second mug of coffee. Why doesn’t he ever listen to me? He’s got to get it through his head that we’ll never truly be safe. I can’t believe he’s having some woman over for cake. It’s almost embarrassing.

“And exactly what time is your lady friend coming?” I ask knowing fully that I plan to do grocery shopping during her visit. We don’t need any groceries whatsoever, but I’m not making nice with a stranger over robot made cakes.

“Lily will be here at 12pm.”

I snort indignantly. He wastes so much time trying to learn about his entire clientele, the vast majority of people he’ll probably never see again.

“Great. Thanks. I’ll be out getting bread at 12pm.”

“But we got bread yesterday!”

I almost crack a smile. Almost.

***

I jump in the shower at 11:30am, throw on the first clothes I find and head for the door. I figure that if I can just get away early enough, I’ll be out of everyone’s hair and won’t need to feel so on edge. I don’t bother saying goodbye to Grace and Dani. They know I do my own thing, just as they do theirs, and there’s a mutual respect for each other’s privacy.

I swing open the front door and immediately, I find myself face to face with a woman. A short blonde with messy curls and thick rimmed black glasses. Her eyes are a dark brown, black eyeliner trailing around the edges and forming imperfect wings. She’s got the most ridiculous smile on her face, that falters slightly when she sees me, but still, she keeps that grin as our eyes meet.

The worst part is, I find her kind of attractive. She’s got a cuteness about her that’s so unlike anything I’ve seen in a long time. I feel irrationally angry about this. Frustrated with myself for having childish thoughts, and irritated with her for existing.

The woman has a youthful face, but I can’t really tell how old she is. She’s obviously one to be punctual, and for no logical reason, this angers me even more.

“Hi”, the woman finally speaks, her voice bright and bubbly.

“I’m Lily.”

Chapter Text

I’m taken aback when a woman answers the door, but nevertheless, I try to keep a smile on my face. I’m suddenly terrified that I’ve got the wrong house, and anxiety washes over me.

“Hi, I’m Lily.”

For a moment, the woman staring back at me doesn’t say anything. She almost has a curious expression on her face, as if she’s taking a moment to drink me in. She looks me up and down, and I begin to feel naked and vulnerable.

“I’m here for cake samples. Does Carl live here?”

The woman’s intrigue is quickly replaced by a scowl, but for some reason, it makes me want to laugh. She’s really short, but insanely muscular. The kind of woman who looks small, but could probably snap your neck between two of her fingers.

Her hair is a sort of silver in colour, her eyes blue, with tired circles beneath them. Despite this, I feel weirdly drawn to her. I don’t know what it is about her, but there’s something really appealing. I can see she’s significantly older than I am, so she’d probably never go for someone like me. Regardless, I can’t stop staring at her eyes. They’re mesmerising.

I snap out of my thoughts when the woman finally speaks. Keeping her eyes locked with mine, she yells “Carl” at the top of her lungs, and I can’t help but jolt in surprise. I think I see her suppress a laugh at this, but I can’t be sure.

Moments later, the man that I recognise from his Facebook page appears. Carl of Carl’s Bakery. Carl is huge. At least a foot taller than I am, but he’s also built like a tank. What is it with this household? Have I accidentally stumbled upon a family of gym enthusiasts? I’m surprised that Carl isn’t a personal trainer of sorts. Maybe the woman who answered the door is.

“Come on in, come through to the kitchen”, Carl gestures. He has a really thick accent. German? Dutch? Austrian? I’m not too sure.

I awkwardly pass the woman, who’s still standing in the doorway, and her eyes never leave me. Even as I walk down the hall, I can see her in my peripheral vision, watching my every move.

***

When we enter the kitchen, there are two more women sitting around a dining room table. Unsurprisingly, they, too, are “buff”. They must all be fitness freaks, it’s the only explanation. That doesn’t explain Carl’s Bakery, though. I’m surprised it’s not one of those gluten free, paleo, fad diet type businesses.

“Hello”, one of the two women sitting down says, offering me a warm grin. She’s sweet and young, and also has an accent that I can’t place.

The woman opposite her gives me a curt nod, before leaning across the table and whispering something in the other woman’s ear.

There’s something about this house that slightly unsettles me. I feel oddly out of place, and a little intimidated by all these athletic bodies.

Carl excuses himself as he goes to fetch cake flavours, and I feel I have to make some kind of small talk with the women at the table.

“Hi, I’m Lily. I’m here to try Carl’s cakes to find a flavour that I like”, I tell them. I feel really ridiculous when I say it out loud. Why would I be here for anything else?

“I’m Dani, and this is my girlfriend, Grace”, the friendlier woman announces, clutching Grace’s fingers. Grace offers her a look of adoration, before turning her attention to me. We don’t really make eye contact but she gives me another nod, and it’s slightly less chilly.

I can’t help but think what a bizarre family this is. Two really hostile women, one of which I’m kind of attracted to, a really friendly lady, and a strange gentle giant who bakes cakes for a living. It’s madness, but I quite like the eccentricity of it all.

When Carl returns, it’s with the most aesthetically pleasing tray with no less than 15 cake samples.

***

We spend the next half hour chatting, with me tasting. The cakes are to die for, but I’m more curious about him and the three women he resides with.

He’s odd but weirdly endearing. At some point, we sit down at the same table as Grace and Dani, but it’s not too long before Grace whisks Dani away, and I can’t help but feel that my presence is a burden in some way. I try to ignore it and continue speaking to Carl.

“This is really rude and off topic, so please feel free to ignore me, but the lady who answered the door to me- is she your wife?”

I don’t know why, but I tense as I wait for his reply.

“Sarah? No. She does not like me.”

I’m a little stunned by this response.

“Oh. Oh dear. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be”, Carl waves a hand dismissively. “She has her reasons.”

I so desperately want to ask what those are, but even I know that this would be crossing a line.

“What about Dani and Grace? Are either of them your relatives?”

Carl shakes his head.

“No. Dani…” he pauses, choosing his next words carefully.

“She works with Sarah. And Grace also knows Dani through work.”

“Is that at a gym, by any chance?”

I know I shouldn’t have asked, but I can’t seem to help myself.

Carl looks slightly bewildered by my question. Not anxious, per se, but almost as if I’ve asked him a complex riddle that he doesn’t know where to begin solving.

“You could say that.”

A husky voice comes from the doorway. I glance behind Carl to see Sarah, a hand on her hip, watching me with those piercing blue eyes. She’s staring at me so intently, and suddenly, I feel like a tiger in a zoo.

Or maybe Sarah is the tiger, and I’m the prey.