Chapter Text
Introduction
Willow exited the red automobile, looking over her shoulder at the unassuming cottage all the while. She knew that, for such an innocuous and innocent building, what went on inside was both complex and dangerous. To wit, the owner of this cottage was both of these, and doubly so. He was unpredictable. Unstable. Yet, he was a genius – not to mention a dear friend – and furthermore, she needed his help.
Wilson easily heard the two knocks – few enough to sound urgent while still maintaining a dignified air. This was not a delivery, nor a peddler of wares. This, he reasoned – and correctly, may it be known – was a guest. His work was thrown down, scattered haphazardly (though no more so than the rest of the study) across a monstrous desk as he abandoned his post to answer the door.
WX-78 heard the knocks, too. Additionally, it heard Wilson’s mad dash for the doorway. This latter was, in fact, the primary reason it decided to remain in its room, away from whatever human nonsense would be brought into the house. “INTERACTION WITH FLESH BEINGS WAS NEVER MY FORTE,” it buzzed to itself as it began pacing slowly about the room.