Fanfic Friday – “The Woman In The Red Dress”

27 Jul

Mouse sat at the cafe patio in an impeccably tailored suit, his toe tapping impatiently as he glanced with total disinterest at his newspaper. The only text printed upon it consisted of stolen keylogs and hacked inter-crew messages, which usually held his attention well enough, but today even the latest ship’s gossip bored him. Today, he had something entirely different on his mind.

Drones of the Construct buzzed about him pointlessly, hurrying along to appointments that hadn’t been made, rushing to catch buses that didn’t exist. Their cut-and-paste similarity was obvious to him; he was the one who’d programmed them, but at a glance they served to populate the cafe and the street outside realistically enough. Mouse didn’t care. The only reason he was looking at the milling crowds of clones at all was because he was scanning them for someone very unique indeed.

Many sleepless nights had led him to this moment; many hours of coding and 3D modelling, many jibes and sneering looks from his mates. Mouse didn’t give a shit what they thought. She was worth it.

She appeared from the crowd just as he thought this, as though he had summoned her just by calling her to mind. In a way, he reflected proudly, that’s exactly what I’ve done.

She stood out so vividly from the crowd it was as if nothing else in the world had any colour. They walked with mechanical order; she swaggered and swung her hips. They rushed about mindlessly, she strode languidly in her four-inch heels. Her golden hair was lustrous and perfectly curled, and it bounced playfully as she went. Her dress, a bright crimson, hugged her body tightly. Mouse’s jaw dropped open.

“I am a genius,” he said aloud, watching her meet his gaze and approach him with a smile. She reached his table and stood over him, looking down with a twinkle in her eye. He motioned for her to sit, and she did, tucking her hem under her hips and crossing her legs daintily. “An absolute god-damn genius.”

The woman in red blinked at Mouse prettily, saying nothing.

“Quiet type, eh?” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Not a problem, not a problem at all. In fact, I find I get along better with girls who don’t talk much. It’s not out of disrespect, you understand; I’d be very interested to hear what you have to say, in fact I’m sure you’re a very interesting person. But the truth is, I’m a talkative guy, and most of the time my girlfriends find it hard to get a word in edgewise. Know what I mean?”

She sipped at her coffee, leaving a large red lipstick stain on the white mug. She looked directly at him, and her expression sent a shivering tingle into Mouse’s loins.

“Y’know, some of my…friends…seem to think this is a bad idea. Can you believe that?”

She raised her eyebrows, disbelief painted plainly on her face.

“I know! Such hypocrites. They’re just mad ’cause they can’t program their way out of a paper bag. It’s pretty clear, to me anyway, that if they had half the skill I do they’d be sitting right where I am now. Man, Dozer works me like a dog. I think I deserve a little R&R, don’t you?”

She had been polite, listening as patiently as possible, but it was clear she couldn’t wait any longer. She was biting her lower lip and fidgeting around on her seat, her eyes burrowing into him. He opened his mouth to say something and she dove across the table, knocking their mugs to crash on the sidewalk, kissing him with fierce passion. Mouse’s eyes rolled back. She tasted delicious.

The table fell over and they tumbled to the ground in a heap, ignored by the drones stepping over them. She was tearing at his clothes, whimpering with excitement, and in the spaces where her tongue wasn’t in his mouth, he was saying, “To…deny our own…impulses…mmm…is to deny the very thing…that makes us human.”

**

Tank clicked away at his console, scrolling lines of green code illuminating his face. His brother walked up to him, stifling a laugh, and said conspiratorially in his rumbling bass voice, “Tank: get a load o’ Casanova over here.”

Tank and Dozer both poked their heads around the hanging coils of cable and steel to look at Mouse’s body, prone in the chair while he was jacked in. His tongue lolled lustily out of his mouth, and his hands were groping at invisible curves. His eyelids twitched and the two brothers laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.

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