Weeks bled into a new normal. The -5% approval held steady, a fragile, almost peaceful stalemate. Kaelen fetched Iris from school. They sometimes ate dinner together, conversations stilted but not hostile. Sera's new suppressants worked without the brutal side effects, and a tense, watchful calm had settled over the penthouse.
Sera's movie, a historical epic she'd been filming for months, finally wrapped. The night of the wrap party, the penthouse was empty. Iris was at a friend's for a sleepover, and Sera had left that morning with a garment bag and a determined look.
Kaelen was reviewing security reports Valeria Ironwood's "pro bono" audit of Vesper Pharmaceuticals was progressing worryingly smoothly when her personal comms device buzzed with an unknown number.
She answered, her tone clipped. "Blackwood."
"Uh, hello? Is this Miss Blackwood? Seraphina's… fiancée?" The voice on the other end was male, young, and brimming with panic.
Kaelen's spine straightened. "Who is this?"
"It's Leo, sir ma'am! Miss. I'm Seraphina's PA. I'm so sorry to bother you, but there's a bit of a… situation."
Kaelen was already on her feet, her heart starting a familiar, anxious rhythm. "What kind of situation?"
"The celebratory champagne kind of situation," Leo whispered, the sound of loud music and laughter swelling behind him. "She, uh… she might have over-celebrated. The studio drivers have all gone, and her usual car service is booked. She's in no state to call one herself, and I can't just… leave her. The paps are swarming outside."
The image was instantly clear: Sera, who never lost control, who was always perfectly composed, was drunk and vulnerable in a den of sharks.
"Where are you?" Kaelen asked, already striding toward the door, grabbing her keys.
"Azure, the rooftop bar at the top of the Orion Tower."
"I'm on my way. Don't let her out of your sight. If a single photographer gets near her, you will be looking for a new career."
She ended the call, the threat coming as naturally as breathing. The Blackwood heir was needed now, not the confused transmigrator.
Twenty minutes later, Kaelen stepped out of the private elevator into the thumping bass and glittering chaos of Azure. She was still in her dark, tailored trousers and a simple black shirt from her day at home, looking severely out of place amongst the sequins and designer party wear.
She spotted them immediately. Leo, a nervous-looking young Beta, was hovering near a plush circular booth. And in the booth, slumped elegantly against the velvet cushions, was Sera.
She was breathtaking. She wore a stunning, backless silver gown that made her look like a fallen star. Her makeup was flawless, but her eyes were glassy and unfocused. A half-empty glass of champagne dangled precariously from her fingers.
Kaelen crossed the room, her presence parting the crowd like a shark cutting through water. Leo saw her and looked like he might faint with relief.
"Miss Blackwood! Thank you for coming, I"
Kaelen ignored him. She knelt in front of the booth, bringing herself to Sera's eye level. "Sera."
Sera's head lolled towards her. It took a moment for her eyes to focus. When they did, a slow, loopy smile spread across her face. "Kae…len," she slurred, drawing out the name. "You came. My… grumpy… knight. In shi… shiny shoes."
She reached out and poked Kaelen's cheek. "So serious. You should have a drink. Leo! Get my… my grumpy fiancée a drink!"
"She's had enough," Kaelen said, her voice firm but not unkind. She gently took the champagne flute from Sera's limp grasp and set it on the table. "The party's over. Time to go home."
"But I'm celebratiiing," Sera pouted, an expression so childlike and un-Sera-like that it was almost disorienting. "I finished the movie. I was… good. I was so good." Her smile faded, replaced by a sudden, profound sadness. "They all said I was good."
"I'm sure you were," Kaelen said softly. She stood and offered her hand. "Come on."
To her surprise, Sera didn't argue. She just nodded, her earlier energy deflating. "Okay. 'M tired."
With Leo's help, Kaelen got Sera to her feet. The Omega was unsteady, leaning heavily into Kaelen's side. The scent of champagne and her natural jasmine perfume was overwhelming.
"The back elevator," Leo whispered, pointing to a discreet door. "It'll take you straight down to the private garage. I'll create a diversion out front for the photographers."
Kaelen gave him a curt nod of approval and half-carried, half-walked Sera towards the exit. Sera rested her head on Kaelen's shoulder, her breath warm against Kaelen's neck.
"You're warm," Sera mumbled. "Comfy."
The drive home was a study in surrealism. Sera, the epitome of grace, was slumped in the passenger seat of the sports car, humming off-key to a song on the radio. She'd kick off her silver heels, tucking her feet under her.
"I hate these shoes," she declared. "Pretty. But hurty."
Kaelen focused on the road, a strange mix of concern and amusement warring within her. This was so far from the controlled, hostile woman she knew.
"You know," Sera said, her voice suddenly clearer, though still slurred. She turned her head to look at Kaelen, her eyes trying hard to focus. "You're… different."
Kaelen's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Am I?"
"Mmhmm." Sera nodded, a little too vigorously. "Less… shouty. More… math wizardy." She giggled at her own joke. Then her expression sobered. "The necklace… that was… not shouty."
She was quiet for a moment, watching the city lights streak by. "Why'd you do it?" she asked again, the question softer this time, stripped of its previous suspicion.
Before Kaelen could even attempt an answer, Sera's face went pale. Her eyes widened. "Oh," she said, her voice small. "Oh no."
Kaelen glanced over. "Sera? Are you"
It was too late.
With a sudden, ungraceful lurch, Sera Vesper, acclaimed actress and picture of elegance, threw up all over the dashboard of Kaelen's immaculately clean, obscenely expensive sports car.
The sound was awful. The smell was instantly, eye-wateringly worse.
Kaelen slammed on the brakes, pulling over to the curb with a screech of tires. She stared, utterly horrified, at the steaming, champagne-scented mess now defiling the Italian leather and digital displays.
A moment of stunned silence was broken by a tiny, pathetic whimper.
Sera had pulled back, her hand over her mouth. She looked down at the carnage, then up at Kaelen's frozen, appalled face. Her bottom lip began to tremble.
And then she started to cry. Not elegant, single-tear cries. Big, heaving, messy, childish sobs.
"I'm sowwy!" she wailed, tears and mascara creating dark tracks down her cheeks. "I ruined your shiny car! It's all icky! I'm a bad Omega! A messy, bad Omega!"
She began to flail her arms slightly in her distress, almost hitting the window. "You're gonna be so shouty now! And I don't wike it when you're shouty!"
Kaelen sat there, one hand still on the gearshift, covered in a fine mist of something she didn't want to think about, listening to the most feared woman in her life have a full-blown, toddler-esque meltdown over vomit.
All she could do was blink. The System was silent. It had no protocol for this.
Slowly, carefully, as if approaching a startled animal, Kaelen reached into the backseat and found a half-empty bottle of water and a stack of napkins from a drive-thru she'd never admit to visiting.
"Here," she said, her voice remarkably calm given the circumstances. "Drink this. Small sips."
Sera took the bottle with trembling hands, her sobs subsiding into hiccups. She took a sip, then used the napkins to wipe her face, smearing her makeup even more. She looked utterly destroyed and completely ridiculous.
Kaelen then began the unenviable task of using the remaining napkins to scoop the majority of the mess into a pathetic, sodden pile. It was a losing battle. The smell would require professional intervention.
She looked over at Sera, who was watching her with wide, guilty, red-rimmed eyes.
"I'm so sowwy," Sera whispered again, her voice hoarse.
A strange sound escaped Kaelen's lips. It was a choked sputter that turned into a cough, which then evolved into a full, deep, genuine laugh. It was the first real laugh she'd had in this body, maybe in any body.
"It's… it's a car, Sera," she managed to get out, shaking her head. "It'll be detailed. It's not the end of the world."
Sera stared at her, bewildered by the laughter. Then, a tiny, wobbly smile touched her lips. "Really?"
"Really." Kaelen put the car back in drive, rolling down all the windows to let in the cold, clean night air. "Now, let's get the 'messy, bad Omega' home before you decide to redecorate the upholstery, too."
The rest of the drive was conducted in a stinky, breezy silence. By the time they reached the penthouse, Sera was nearly asleep again.
Kaelen managed to get her inside and onto the sofa. Sera immediately curled up on her side, her ruined silver dress shimmering in the moonlight, her breathing deep and even.
Kaelen stood over her for a long moment. She then looked down at her own shirt, which had not escaped the evening unscathed. The smell, however, was a problem that a blanket couldn't fix.
"Sera," Kaelen said, her voice firm. "You need a bath."
Sera stirred, cracking one eye open. "Nooo," she mumbled, burying her face deeper into the couch. "'M cozy."
"You are not cozy. You are… aromatic. Bath. Now." It was the same tone she used to command boardrooms.
Sera pouted, but the combination of the smell and Kaelen's unyielding stance wore her down. She allowed herself to be hauled upright and steered toward the bathroom. Kaelen started the water, poured in a generous amount of bath oil to mask any lingering eau de vomit, and pointed. "In."
Sera stared at the filling tub, then back at Kaelen, a slow, loopy grin spreading across her face. "You do it," she said, her words slurred with exhaustion and residual alcohol.
Kaelen froze. "Absolutely not."
"Pleeeease?" Sera whined, trying to mimic Iris's pleading look and failing spectacularly. "I'm too… wobbly."
"You managed to hit every gearshift with impressive accuracy; you can manage a bath," Kaelen retorted, her ears turning pink. She backed out of the bathroom and closed the door firmly. "Call me if you drown!"
She waited outside the door, listening to the sloshing sounds and half-hummed, half-sung snippets of what might have been a song from her movie. After what felt like an eternity, the water drained, and eventually, Sera emerged.
She was swamped in a pair of soft, flannel pajamas covered in cartoon cats, her hair wrapped in a towel turban. She looked clean, warm, and about ten years younger. She shuffled past Kaelen, who was now attempting to clean her shirt with a club soda-dampened towel, and plopped down on the far end of the sofa with a contented sigh.
Kaelen stayed standing, maintaining a safe distance. The peaceful silence lasted for about thirty seconds.
Sera shifted, scooting closer across the vast expanse of leather. Then she did it again. Until she was right next to Kaelen, her clean, floral-scented warmth a stark contrast to the lingering memory of the car ride.
"Thank you," Sera whispered, her voice sleepy and sincere. "For… the driving. And the… not letting me drown."
"You're welcome," Kaelen said, her body rigid.
Sera looked up at her, her eyes still glassy but soft. She leaned in slowly, her intention clear. The distance between them closed. Kaelen could see the individual flecks of blue in her eyes, the faint freckles usually hidden by makeup.
Just before their lips could meet, Kaelen's hand came up, gently but firmly stopping Sera by placing two fingers against her lips.
"Sera," Kaelen said, her voice quiet but unwavering. "You're drunk. And I'm not taking advantage of that."
Sera blinked, confused. The rejected advance seemed to short-circuit her already addled brain. Her face scrunched up, not in anger, but in the way a child's does when told they can't have a second cookie. "Oh," she said, the sound small and disappointed.
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the energy left her completely. The effort of the bath, the emotional rollercoaster, and the alcohol finally won. Her head lolled forward, coming to rest not on Kaelen's shoulder, but squarely on her chest. A soft, definitive snore escaped her.
She was asleep. Instantly and completely.
Kaelen sat there, frozen, with a sleeping, pajama clad movie star using her chest as a pillow. She slowly lowered her hand, the ghost of the almost kiss tingling on her fingertips.
A warmth spread through her chest, a feeling that was terrifyingly tender and entirely unwelcome. It was a pull, a deep, resonant hum that had nothing to do with the System and everything to do with the woman sleeping against her. It felt like… something she had no right to name.
EMOTIONAL DEVIATION DETECTED.
Analysis: User is developing non canonical emotional attachments.
WARNING: Romantic entanglement with Primary Asset "Seraphina Vesper" is a severe narrative violation. The designated path is antagonism leading to redemption, not affection. Suppress these feelings. They are a threat to mission parameters.
The System's cold warning was a bucket of ice water. The warmth in her chest curdled into a sharp, guilty ache. She wasn't allowed this. This wasn't her story to have. The wish, the promise of freedom, was predicated on surviving this story, not rewriting it into something else.
The 5% in her mind's eye flickered, and then, impossibly, it changed.
Seraphina Vesper. Approximate Approval: 0%
It was neutral. Zero. The hatred was gone, evaporated as completely as the champagne had been… purged. It was no longer just a number; it was a promise she couldn't keep. A line she was forbidden to cross. A choice that felt like redemption but was, according to the cold logic of her jailer, a failure.
With a sigh that was part exasperation and part a deep, resigned sorrow, she carefully adjusted Sera into a more comfortable position on the sofa, retucked the blanket, and resigned herself to a very long, very still night. The villainess was, against all odds, being redeemed by the power of being a designated driver, a vomit cleaner, a bath time bouncer, and a profoundly unwilling pillow for a woman she was falling for a woman she was absolutely, systemically forbidden to love.