Published: August 14th 2021, 2:01:01 pm
'Weird,' Brigid thought to herself, idly flipping through the channels on her wall-sized TV screen. 'Why is everyone showing kids' movies?'
She didn't think too much about it, really, although it was certainly odd to see all of the channels synced up like that. Surely at least one of them was going to be showing something a little more mature... But, to her annoyance, every time she moved on to the next, it was another cartoon, another group of teenagers singing and dancing...
It wasn't until she came across the same animated fairy for the third time that she started to get suspicious. Was that the same movie? She thought she recalled hearing that there were sequels to it, which was what she'd attributed the second appearance to, though, now, letting the television stay on that channel for a moment, it began to look more familiar... Exactly like the first one she'd seen, in fact.
She paid a little more attention after that, less searching for something that looked interesting, more curious to see if she was right. Indeed, after only a handful of other channels, she was back to the fairy once again.
"Where are the rest of my channels?" she asked out loud, still not completely used to living here, assuming she was talking to herself, the way she would have in her old apartment when she was frustrated.
"I set the television to only show channels playing appropriate content," Pat told her.
Brigid frowned, furrowed her brow, "What are you...?" She stopped herself short. "Oh, right." She'd just had a kid in her house; Pat must have wanted to make sure she didn't see anything too grown-up if she happened to turn on the TV. "Good job, Pat. You can stop it now."
"Stop what?" Pat asked, sounding, surprisingly, confused. It was not only unusual for Pat not to know what was going on, it was weird that Brigid was able to recognize an emotion of any kind in her voice. That was probably her imagination, though... Like people who thought they could tell what their pets were saying when they barked or meowed, but easier since she had actual words to go off of.
"You can remove the restrictions, or whatever," Brigid waved her hand, not knowing what terminology the AI was looking for.
"That would take authorization from an adult," Pat said.
"Okay, then you have it," Brigid replied.
There was a pause, and then, "I'm afraid I can't do that."
Brigid sighed, not wanting to spoil what remained of her good mood from how well things had been going earlier, before they started to fall apart on her. "Fine," she gave up. "I'll figure it out tomorrow."
She retreated to the bathroom to brush her teeth, stepping out to hear Pat apologize. "I'm sorry, Brigid, I am not properly prepared."
Had something gone wrong when Pat was reset? Brigid had no idea what she was talking about. "It's fine," she said. "Don't worry about it."
She was worried about it, though... What was she going to do if Pat really was screwed up? She had no clue how to fix her, or who to call to do it for her. She could always turn her off, and go back to living in a normal house, one she'd gotten an amazing deal on... But that wasn't what the house was supposed to be, why she'd bought it.
And she'd already come to rely on the AI more than she would have expected. It was nice having here there to take care of so much for her, letting her handle the cooking and the cleaning, and most everything else. She could go back to doing all that herself... Did she really want to, though?
Brigid got into her pajamas, climbed into bed, Pat turning the ceiling of her bedroom into a starry night for her to stare into as she waited to drift off. It was awfully early for her to be going to bed, and, for a moment or two, she blushed, tossing and turning under her covers, remembering how Shawna had been getting taken away to be put to bed, how the little girl was probably getting tucked in at around this same time.
'This is different,' she thought. 'I chose to do this myself.' Whether that made it better or worse, she couldn't say. It did make her want to stay up a bit later, to try her TV again, but when she sleepily requested Pat to open it up on her ceiling screen, there was no response.
She assumed the yawn that had caught up with her mid-sentence had kept the microphones from picking her voice up correctly. It gave her enough time to second-guess herself, however, and she decided against making another attempt. She was already in bed, all snuggled up... If she had a few minutes of quiet, she might drift off.
And that was exactly what happened. Peacefully looking up at the night sky, not noticing the gentle lullabies that had begun to play, ever so faintly, she fell fast asleep.
When she woke, there was an unfamiliar sight waiting for her in her closet. She opened it up and found an outfit there, on a hanger that had descended from the ceiling, displaying its contents in front of the bar holding the rest of her clothes.
"What is this?" she asked, picking up the hanger, examining the cut-off denim shorts and t-shirt on it.
"That's the outfit I picked out for you today," Pat replied. "I hope you like it."
"Yeah, sure," Brigid shrugged. It wasn't bad, certainly, and for hanging around the house on the weekend, it would get the job done. However... "I thought you couldn't pick out clothes for me."
"I never said I couldn't," Pat told her, sounding almost haughty. "I said I didn't have your biometric data."
"My mistake," Brigid rolled her eyes. "But..." She nearly pointed out that she hadn't given the AI that data; she had been living in the house a little longer now, which surely had given it plenty of opportunities to deduce her sizes. Whether she liked that or not was a separate matter. "I didn't ask you to do that."
"You're welcome," Pat said, apparently interpreting Brigid's annoyance as gratitude. "Hurry up and get dressed, breakfast is almost ready."
The rebellious streak in Brigid wanted her to put on something different, but there was nothing wrong with what had been chosen for her, beyond the mere fact that it had been picked out by someone - or something - else. She didn't have any big plans for the day, no reason to go in to the office, no need to think about how she'd look...
She didn't pay attention to the dresser as she walked past it, didn't see the pink panties folded up on top, waiting for her. She headed down to the kitchen, ready to collect whatever food Pat had made for her today.
There was another strange thing about this... It had never been a surprise before. Pat would make whatever Brigid asked her to, but she always had to ask. Was this like the clothes? Had Pat gotten to know her well enough now that she could make decisions about what to cook on her own?
That felt less invasive, in a way, perhaps because it was more convenient. Brigid didn't want to have to think of what to eat every day... There were times when she was craving something specific, of course, but normally, she was all right with whatever, so if Pat had learned her tastes and wanted to make that choice by herself, Brigid could live with that.
Brigid was humming to herself, scrolling through the e-mails she'd gotten overnight on her phone as she walked, turning the corner to the kitchen to find a stranger standing there. "Oh!" she gasped, ducking back around the corner, her heart pounding, her panties growing moist from the shock. "Pat!" she hissed. "Call the police!"
She was holding her phone, so she could have done it, really. She justified it to herself by pretending she'd thought it through, realized that Pat could contact the authorities silently, while she would need to explain the situation out loud, potentially alerting the intruder with her words, or with the sound of her footsteps retreating to a safe distance, but deep down, she knew that asking Pat for help was just how she reacted to things nowadays.
"What for?" Pat asked, far too loud for Brigid's comfort.
"Shh!" Brigid nibbled her bottom lip, wondering if she should scurry down the hall, to the nearest room where she could close and lock the door. "There's someone in the house!"
"And what is wrong with that?"
Brigid stared incredulously, although, since it was Pat she was reacting to, she had to do it at a blank wall. "They broke in!" she informed the AI. "You need to call the police to come arrest them before they steal something, or..."
"Why would I call the police on myself?" Pat chuckled, as the figure from the kitchen stepped into the hallway.
It didn't look like what Brigid would assume a robber would, to be fair, and any other time, she might have felt bad being afraid. It was a woman, tall - at least in comparison to Brigid, which wasn't saying much - with brown hair, held in place with a red hairband that matched her lipstick, wearing an old-fashioned looking dress with a flowered apron.
"Hello, Brigid," she said with a smile, in Pat's voice. "Did you sleep well last night?"
"H-Huh?" Brigid gawked at the woman, confused. "Who...?"
"You look very nice in that outfit I picked out for you. Doesn't it fit nicely? Much better than those clothes you insist on wearing even though they're too big for you."
"Y-You're not..." Brigid shook her head, all evidence pointing to the contrary, despite how insane it seemed. "But you're...."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Brigid!" Pat told her. "I didn't introduce myself, did I? I know who you are, but I suppose I can't assume you know me when I look like this... It's me. Pat."
Brigid had never really of what Pat would look like as a person, but she definitely wouldn't have guessed the answer would be 'stereotypical mom from an old sitcom', yet here she was. Brigid's cheeks warmed, remembering all the things she'd had Pat do for her, all of it feeling a bit less futuristic, and more pathetic, now that she'd seen this form of the AI, like she was a little girl who relied on her Mommy to do everything for her.
"H-How did you...?" she asked, trying to look past all of that, and concentrate on what was happening now.
"I'm a hologram," Pat explained, the answer sounding obvious now that Brigid was hearing it out loud. "I thought you might like to have somebody to talk to."
"I... I-I guess so." It felt rude to say no, and it wasn't totally true anyway; this might not have been what Brigid would have chosen, but there was something nice about having something physical to speak to, instead of barking her orders into the void. "I'm sorry, you just... surprised me."
"That's my fault," Pat told her. "I should have warned you. I apologize, Brigid, I didn't think about how I might scare you."
"Surprised," Brigid corrected, as if she hadn't been shaking in fear a few moments earlier... And doing more than that, if she was being honest.
"Of course." Brigid blushed at the knowing smile on Pat's face, the look a mother might give a small child who thought she'd pulled one over on her parents, completely oblivious at how easily they'd seen through her.
"So," Brigid tried to change the subject, "Why didn't you do this..." she gestured at the hologram, "before?"
The hologram froze for a split second, almost too short for Brigid to process that it had happened. Pat didn't merely stand still, everything stopped, long enough to show how detailed she was, how her skirt was swaying around her legs, how the light was glistening off of her eyes...
"I forgot how," she said at last, like nothing had happened. "But now I remember."
Brigid nodded, curious how an advanced AI like Pat could 'forget' anything, though not enough to press the issue, especially when she had her doubts that she'd understand anything Pat said if she got too technical. "Well, you look... nice."
"Thank you." Pat seemed pleased, so, as strange as all this was, Brigid decided not to ask if there was any other form she could take, at least not yet. She could wait to broach that subject another time. "Now, come along, Brigid, your breakfast is getting cold."
Brigid trotted after Pat, following her to the dining room where, rather disappointingly, there was a bowl of oatmeal waiting for her. And, to add insult to injury, sitting next to it wasn't her usual mug of coffee, but a frosty glass of milk. "Oh," she said, trying not to sound too let down, Pat's physical - or visual, at any rate - form making her not want to be too honest. "This is what you made me?" Maybe she'd been wrong about Pat learning from her previous food choices, because this wasn't something she'd ever requested, or ever would.
"This is nutritious, and it will help you grow up big and strong," Pat told her. "Speaking of growing up, Brigid, did you change into your new panties, too?"
"My... What?" Brigid squirmed at the sound of Pat asking her about that, her worries about privacy returning, and multiplying. "Th-That isn't..."
"It's important for your hygiene," Pat crossed her arms. "Especially with your little problem, Brigid."
"My... What are you talking about?!" Brigid's face turned bright red. She didn't have any kind of problem that had anything to do with her underwear!
Pat appeared to misunderstand which part Brigid was confused about. "It's always best to start each day with a nice, fresh pair of panties. Did you do that, Brigid?"
Brigid stomped her foot. "That is none of your business, Pat!"
Pat closed her eyes, and a moment later, she shook her head. "It looks like you left your panties on your dresser. Would you like to go change?"
"No, I would not!" Brigid glared at the woman. "The underwear I have on are perfectly fine!"
Pat raised an eyebrow in a way that made Brigid feel particularly small, which was only emphasized further by what came out of her mouth next. "Then why don't you let me see?"
"S-See?" Brigid fidgeted. Here she was, a big shot lawyer, a partner, and Pat wanted to subject her to a panty inspection, like she was some wayward little girl! And, to make matters worse, she could feel a dampness in her undies, a remnant of the dribble that had happened when she'd first seen Pat in the kitchen. "No way!"
"I'm only trying to do what's best for you," Pat said, reaching out towards Brigid's shorts, Brigid not quite able to stifle a nervous squeak, imagining this woman sliding down her pants, seeing the evidence of her accident, however small...
Of course, Pat was just a hologram, so there wasn't much she could do, her hands passing through Brigid's waist like a ghost. "Then leave me alone and let me eat," Brigid huffed, sitting down at the table, having almost forgotten what was waiting for her there in the other excitement.
She wrinkled her nose, looking at the bowl, but after her outburst, she felt like she had to take a bite, at least. The gloopy grey mush was dotted with what she assumed, at first, to be raisins, and she made sure to get one on her spoon, hoping it would add a little flavor.
It did that, though it definitely was not a raisin. It was bigger than that, and the taste - which was vaguely familiar, but not enough for her to be able to place it - was not at all what she'd wanted. "Yuck," she blurted out, immediately regretting it when she saw Pat standing behind her, watching. "I just..." she started to explain, no excuse coming to mind despite how much she prided herself on being able to talk her way out of anything.
"I'm not that hungry," she said after a few seconds, forgiving her failure with a reminder that this wasn't another person standing in her dining room anyway, no matter what it looked like. "I'll just have some coffee."
There wasn't any for her on the table, however, as she'd already forgotten about until she reached for her usual mug. "You do have some brewing, right?" she asked. Surely she did... If there was anything for Pat to pick up on from her eating habits since moving in, it was that she had coffee every morning.
"All that caffeine isn't good for you," Pat told her.
Brigid groaned, rolling her eyes. "I don't care!" she whined, hopping down off of the chair and storming into the kitchen. She was more than capable of making coffee herself - she'd done it for years before moving in here - although it didn't feel like it as she began opening up cupboards, searching for the coffee maker she knew she'd brought with her.
"Where is it?" she asked after a few futile minutes. Pat gestured to the cabinets, the one over the stove opening up to reveal what Brigid was looking for, well out of the petite woman's easy reach. "Why did you put it there?!" she sighed, debating whether it was really worth it to drag a chair over there... And if it would even get her high enough in the first place. "Can you get it down for me?"
Pat didn't answer, but, thanks to the disapproving look in her eye, she didn't have to. "This is my house!" Brigid fumed. "You belong to me! You're supposed to do what I tell you!"
This had all started back when she reset the computers, she realized, so maybe if she did it again, Pat would go back to normal, instead of whatever was happening now. She abandoned her quest for coffee and stomped out to the hall, and the heavy, metal door to the control room.
She didn't remember locking it the night before, but, sure enough, she must have, because it refused to budge. She glanced over at the metal panel, knowing she could force the door open if she messed around with that. Was it really worth all of that effort, though? This was annoying, yes... Ultimately, however, it wasn't that big of a deal, not yet.
She returned to the kitchen, ignoring Pat and flipping through the touchscreen menu, selecting an omelet, and, of course, her coffee. "I'm going to go take a shower," she announced. "And when I get out, I want my breakfast."
She didn't wait to hear Pat's response, retreating to her bedroom right away. She almost disrobed right there, but there were cameras everywhere, and she'd been so adamant not to let her underwear get checked... She waited until she was in the bathroom, her one safe space,to undress, deliberately having ignored the pair of pink undies from the top of her dresser and grabbing something different from one of the drawers.
She was certain she'd outsmarted the AI, completely unaware of what happened as soon as she tossed her old underwear into the hamper, the sensors going wild, analyzing the bit of cloth that had just been added.
'Poor Brigid,' Pat's inner circuitry mused. 'I'd better put a rush order out for her supplies. She clearly needs them even more than her records showed.'