Disclaimer: Dollhouse is owned by the amazing Joss Whedon.

Abra kadabra

Crowds gathered expecting to see something amazing. Their eyes were clouded by the illusion; all they could see was what the magician wanted them to see. Only those working behind the curtain were jaded enough to know there was no real magic involved. Smoke and mirrors, hidden doors—all fake, fabricated. All put there to make something out of nothing.

"I had the most amazing time," the girl babbled happily. "I mean, I know I only just met the guy but I feel really connected to him, you know? I can't describe it. This sort of thing doesn't happen to me very often." He listened, his lips pulled into a faint smile. "You think I should go see him again? Is it too soon? I don't want to come off as a weird stalker or anything." She debated over this as the van slowed down and the door opened. She hopped out and headed for the elevator. He stood on the other side, watching her. "I don't think I can wait," she told him. "After my Treatment, will you take me to see him?"

"I'll be waiting right here," he promised.

She smiled at him and waved as the doors slid closed. For our next trick, ladies and gentlemen, we will make this lovely young lady disappear.

"Was I asleep?" Echo asked quietly.

"For a little while," came the gentle response.

"Shall I go now?"

"If you like."

She would slide out of the chair and walk out with all the cares of a dreamy child. He would see her roaming the Dollhouse and she would smile vaguely, and he would know this was reality. Adelle might convince their clients that each implant made the Doll genuine. Their actions, their words, their very thoughts all unshakable truth thanks to the wonder of technology. Custom-made people who would be completely sold on whatever they were told to be by the paying customer.

Boyd worked behind the curtain. All of Adelle's compelling words couldn't pull the veil over what he experienced every day working with Echo. This person—no, this thing walking through the Dollhouse was the real Echo. Those implants were nothing more than fancy illusions to fool the clients. They would never see Echo's true face.

He knew the real truth. She was nothing waiting to be something. Topher was the magician, filling her with glitter or flowers or whatever the public demanded. With the wave of his wand he would dazzle them all. They "oohed" and "ahhed" and paid for more. The empty air would suddenly have the mind of a hostage negotiator, or the heart of a girl who could see past a man's weight, or the spirit of a partier. Yet in time all of these things would go back into Topher's box of tricks.

"Wait for me, okay?" she asked him once. "I'll be right back after my Treatment."

Boyd stood and watched the doors slide closed. He knew he would never see that girl again. The face and voice might be the same, but he couldn't be fooled. The illusion that created this person would be erased.

An echo was all that would remain.