J narrowed her eyes, eyeing the two disassembly drones in the pod. N and V leaned against the wall, white sheets of A2 paper in their hands. V rolled her eyes, but N raised a finger, as if requesting permission to ask a question. What a waste of time — just ask.
“Hey captain, what’s this?”
“It’s your schedule for the next week. Memorize it, or keep it safe. I won’t be printing out another.”
“What’s the point of this?” V asked. J jerked her gaze to her other squadmate with a frown and a click of her tongue. As if I gave her permission to ask a question. “Fly around, kill whatever, drag em back. ’s worked just fine so far.”
“I selected our patrol routes so that—” J’s lecture was interrupted by a paper airplane sniping point-first into her temple. A pixel-vein popped above one eye, and her gaze snapped to the last drone in the pod.
Uzi sat in the pilot’s chair, legs kicked up on the console. She held a Nintendo Game Boy Advance® in front of her, buttons clicking — hands busy, as if she were innocent of the crime, but there was only one drone without a printed schedule.
The worker smirked, and J glared back.
“We’re robots,” Uzi said. “Just save it to a file and airdrop it. Thought you of all drones would be happy to use a spreadsheet.”
“We did use a shared database, until someone went in and gave themselves an entire month of time off, corrupting my access credentials in the process.”
V shot a dirty look at Uzi. “And you didn’t share it with anyone? Stingy little dork.”
“Hey, I earned it!” Uzi dropped her Game Boy®, crossing her arms. “Testing security is job too, you know!”
“Nice work, Uzi! Preventing hacks with hacking, I like it.”
N made a finger guns gesture, and Uzi smiled back.
J scowled deep enough you could hear it. “Enough,” she said. “N, V, get out. I need to talk with Uzi, in private. We’ll conclude this meeting later.”
N gave a salute, while V glanced between J and Uzi and snorted. She left first, and N tailed after her.
J stalked forward, the stabs of her stiletto pegs resounding in the now-vacated pod. Uzi didn’t flinch at her approach. No, that smirk turned into a grin, even as the reflection of yellow eyes raced up her visor.
The murder drone loomed over the worker, and the worker lifted a hand and tapped J between the eyes where visor met synthskin.
“Boop.”
J grabbed the hand by the wrist and squeezed. The metal protested, and plastic bent.
“Uzi.” The voiced sibilant in her name was made both a hiss and a growl.
“Hey, J.”
Amber eyes stared, narrow and getting narrower.
The goth sighed. She amended, “Hey, captain.”
“That’s right. Captain. I’m in charge here. Do you think you’re doing this team any favors when you undermine my authority?”
“Yes.”
Eyes wide now, an eyebrow quirked. “Excuse me?”
“What, did you think having a stick up your butt all the time was helping more? I think things are going smoother now that everyone knows you even aren’t all strict business all the time.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” J’s tail rose now, tip pointing straight up.
“Come on, J. You suck at hiding it. You can’t even glare at me without blushing.”
J’s tail swished back and forth until she caught it, and carefully lowered it. “A small detail. A coincidence — hardly a leak of confidential information.”
“And you don’t think anyone wonders why it is you let me get away with anything?”
“You do not get away with anything.” Behind her, J’s tail lashed.
“Yeah, I guess I have the bite marks to prove it. Think if I pull down my jacket it’ll clear that up for them?”
“Don’t you dare.”
“But how can you maintain your authority if the team doesn’t know what your punishments looks like? C’mon J, be consistent.”
“Uzi, I swear, if you don’t—” J’s words were low growls, lower and lower until it was just inarticulate sputtering. “Gah!”
A predator snarling and flashing teeth over her, and Uzi pressed her face closer. She could feel J’s hot breath on her faceplate, and when she spoke, their exhausts fought for the air between them.
“Hey, J, it’s okay. You don’t have to use your words. I know it’s hard to think when I make you go off script.” Uzi reached up with her one free hand now, touching J’s cheek. “Honestly, probably my favorite exploit I’ve found. Just push the right buttons, and—”
Still growling, hissing. “Uzi! This was supposed to be a meeting. Keep it professional.” It was J who pulled back, standing up straight, looking down at the goth.
“A private meeting. I’m sure you had only the most managerial intentions when you glared N away from me. Wanted me all to yourself.”
“Are you insinuating I’m… jealous?”
“I dunno.” Uzi glanced down at the floor, where her paper airplane had landed. “Why don’t you unfold my schedule and tell me how many of my assignments you’re supervising.”
J turned up her (lack of a) nose. She raised the pitch of her voice — no more undignified growling, instead composed and airy-toned. “But of course. You have a terrible work ethic and an appalling lack of experience. You—”
“So you’re taking a hands-on approach?” Uzi wiggled the arm still held in J’s death-grip.
Still high-pitched, if strained. “Only as is appropriate—”
“Kinda raising the same question you’re answering. Why’s your first thought about whether it’s ‘appropriate’?”
J released Uzi’s arm. “Because I would never—”
“C’mon. Just tell me what improper thoughts popped in your head.”
J screamed. Between the constant interruptions and allegations, her visor was a mess of bright blush ticks and throbbing digital veins. She was back to growl-sputtering. “If you don’t shut up, I’ll…”
“What? Kill me over a little teasing?” Uzi let the smirk drop. “Okay, J. If you want me to stop… just ask sincerely.”
J froze. A loading icon. Then she huffed, crossed her arms, and turned away. “I don’t need to ask you to stop. It’s just a little teasing. Really, that’s all you are. Little. Insignificant. Miniscu—”
That was when Uzi launched herself out of the pilot’s chair. The sudden motion drew J’s gaze back to the worker, and she didn’t flinch at irked-tensed, clenched-fist purple threat in front of her.
“Bite me! I’d rather be short, if the alternative is impractical stripper pole legs!”
“Impractical? Remind me, how many missions have you completed?” J laughed, eyes tracking Uzi from the bottom of her visor.
“Not a fair comparison.” Uzi crossed her arms. “Quit looking down on me!”
“Maintaining eye contact is essential for—”
But Uzi huffed. “Then how about this?” As she spoke, she was already acting, or otherwise J would have had time to react. Uzi jumped, arms and legs thrown forward, pouncing.
She held on by J’s shoulder, and wrapped her legs around her hips, shimmying higher as the murder drone yelped. Thrown off-balance, J’s arms were flailing before she even tried pulling the worker off her. And now Uzi was climbing higher, holding secure.
The momentum from Uzi’s pounce sent J backwards, and her stripper legs stiletto-heels struggled to find purchase on the pod’s metal floor. The stumble-fall didn’t end until J’s back was too the wall, pinned by Uzi.
A grin beneath purple eyes narrowed devious — held high, looking down.
“I,” J started, voice breathy. “We’ve gotten v-very off-track.”
“This meeting could’ve been a date,” Uzi drawled.
J still panted, cycling exhaust. It took a moment before she could speak steady again. “I can arrange a sight-seeing trip downtown, tonight. Is that what it takes for you to accept the new schedules?”
“It’d be an improvement.”
“What else do you require?”
“Hm… how about a kiss?”
J stared at her — but she wasn’t blushing or breathing hot because she didn’t want to. A deep intake, then J parted her lips and leaned forward—
And Uzi leaned back, causing J to miss. Vein pop. Hiss. J leaned further, far as her neck would allow, and Uzi teased her like a dog on a leash. The goth brought her face back, and J darted after it, only for Uzi to keep dodging, laughing softly.
Then J reached up grabbed the goth with a fistful of hair, and shoved her face toward her scowling maw. Lips meet lips with almost palpable electric shock.
J’s tongue slipped forward into Uzi, inflicting this annoyance in retribution for playing hard to get, and Uzi bit back against J’s invasion, holding it there between her teeth, slowly increasing the pressure.
But J still had a fistful of hair, and now she pulled, until Uzi’s bite released itself to make way for a moan.
The seal of their lips didn’t break, and that touch persisted as Uzi melted into J’s embrace, teasing resistance falling away bit by bit.
Then it was interrupted by an abrupt tug on purple hair. Uzi was pulled out of her tongues-twined, arms-enwrapped sense-bath into cold, separate air.
The first sound she made wasn’t a word, but a whine. Then, “C’mon, J. Why’d you stop?”
“Mmm. Will you behave yourself around my team, now?”
Closed eyes opened to meet eye with J. The worker said, “No. Never. ’s too much fun.”
J’s lashing tail smacked against the pod wall. “Why do I even keep you around?”
Uzi smiled, and brought a hand up to caress her murder drone’s cheek. “Because. It’s something you can’t put into words or schedules. It’s just:”
And they kissed again.