Nikki woke up alone, but for the first time in her life, she felt good just from waking up.
When last did she have that particular nightmare?
Something weird was going on but she couldn't pinpoint what it was.
The nightmare of the previous night had faded, replaced by the lingering memory of heavy, cool arms holding her together.
The bed was empty, the sheets cold, yet there was a presence in the air that told her A-01 had been there until the very last second.
She stretched, a small smile touching her lips. "Big softie."
The glass door slid open.
General A-01 walked in. He was back in his full uniform, buttons done all the way to his chin, looking every inch the cold dictator of the world.
"Hygiene protocol complete," he noted, scanning her bedhead. "Get dressed. We are attending the Annual Unification Gala in Sector 1 Central. Departure in 30 minutes."
No fucking good morning. Ha ha ha.
Nikki sat up, pulling the duvet to her chest. "A gala? Like... a party? Can I wear the dress I bought?"
"Negative," A-01 stated, walking to the wall panel to retrieve her gear. "Crowd density will be high. Threat levels are moderate. You will wear the bio-suit. I require constant monitoring of your vitals."
"You are such a buzzkill," Nikki groaned, throwing her head back. "I bought a backless dress that would have made B-02 cry oil tears, and you want me to wear the tin-foil wrapper?"
"The suit is non-negotiable."
She thought mentioning B-02 would trigger him.
Nikki huffed, but she grabbed the silver suit.
Thirty minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom.
She was wearing the suit, yes. It clung to her curves. But she hadn't stopped there.
She had curled her fiery red hair into cascading waves that fell over her silver shoulders. She had applied the expensive makeup she bought—dark, smoky eyes and a blood-red lip that popped against her pale skin. And on her feet, she wore black stiletto boots with a heel sharp enough to kill a man.
At least I don't look like a lab experiment.
A-01, who was checking his datapad by the door, looked up.
He stopped.
His blue eyes swept over her, from the heels to the suit that highlighted her waist, up to the red lips.
"The suit is functioning," Nikki challenged, hands on her hips. "My vitals are on your screen. Happy?"
A-01 didn't look at his screen. He looked at her mouth.
"You look..." He paused, searching his database for a word that wasn't 'efficient'. "You look good."
Nikki blinked. A blush fought its way through her foundation. "Oh. Thanks."
For the first time ever, he was complimenting me.
***
The Gala was a sea of diamonds and drones.
The ballroom was suspended in a glass dome overlooking the entire city. Human diplomats in tuxedos mingled with high-end Androids. The air smelled of champagne and money.
Nikki stuck close to A-01. She felt hundreds of eyes on her, the girl from the viral video, the human pet of the General.
"Stay close," A-01 murmured, his hand hovering near the small of her back without touching.
"Well, well," a smooth voice purred. B-02 appeared, holding a crystal flute of wine. "If it isn't the scandal herself. You clean up nicely, Kitty."
Nikki grinned. "Watch it, B-02. I heard you got your arm twisted for less."
Before B-02 could reply, a human man approached. He was young, handsome in a slimy way, with the insignia of a Sector 3 Diplomat.
"General," the man nodded to A-01, but his eyes were glued to Nikki. "Is this the famous assistant? The rumors don't do her justice."
He stepped into Nikki's personal space. He reached out, his hand landing familiarly on her waist, his fingers digging slightly into the silver material of her suit.
But that was a wrong move.
"I'm Councilor Evans," he smiled, leaning in. "Perhaps you'd like a tour of the terrace? The General seems busy."
One moment, A-01 was standing beside her; the next, he had inserted his massive frame between Nikki and Evans. He didn't touch the councilor, that would be a diplomatic incident, but he loomed over him, effectively blocking Nikki from view.
"The assistant is on duty," A-01 said. His voice was devoid of inflection, but the threat was unmistakable. "Move along, Councilor."
Evans turned pale and scrambled away. A-01 turned to Nikki. His jaw was set tight.
"Go stand over there," he ordered, pointing to a group of women near the bar. "Do not engage with male personnel. Your heart rate spikes are disrupting my HUD."
"You're jealous," Nikki whispered, smirking.
"I don't feel jealousy. GO."
Nikki walked over to the bar. She was immediately swarmed by a group of diplomat wives and socialites.
They were all curious, scandalized, and desperate for gossip.
Nikki was never the type to like this. Doesn't mean they didn't enjoy being with her.
She was a chatterbox when she needed to be, so people enjoyed her company.
"Is it true?" one woman whispered, eyeing Nikki's suit. "Did you really... ask him for that?"
Nikki took a sip of champagne. She decided to play the part.
"Oh, absolutely," Nikki lied, tossing her red hair. "It's always been my dream. Why settle for a human man when you can have perfection? He's... tireless. Precise."
The women giggled. Nikki laughed with them, throwing her head back, her neck exposed, her body relaxed and confident.
It wasn't so bad after all.
Across the room, A-01 watched her.
He watched her throat move as she laughed.
Input: Laughter.Correlation: Joy.Prediction: Intimacy.
He watched her hips shift in the tight suit.
Input: Curve.Correlation: Friction.Prediction: Insertion.
His system was corrupted. The lessons she had forced on him, the kiss, the touch, the dildo, had rewritten his logic loops.
His processor decided that the next logical step in this interaction sequence was penetration.
And since his current hardware was insufficient, his nanotech interface, the same one that allowed him to form weapons or repair armor, initiated an unauthorized update.
Warning. Chassis modification in progress.
A-01 froze.
He felt a pressure in his groin. A heavy, mechanical shifting of plates and synthetic tissue. It wasn't blood filling a vein. It was alloy rearranging itself, expanding, hardening, building a structure where there was none before.
He looked straight ahead, his processing speed dropping as he tried to cancel the command.
Error. Update Locked. User Requirement Met.
"General?"
B-02 stepped in front of him, blocking him from the view of the room. The golden android's face was serious.
"You are radiating heat," B-02 murmured, his voice low. "And your lower chassis is... protruding."
"It is a cooling vent malfunction," A-01 said stiffly. "I am overheating."
B-02 looked down. Then he looked up, a spark of amusement in his amber eyes.
"That is not a vent, brother," B-02 whispered. "Look down."
A-01 slowly lowered his gaze.
There, pressing against the pristine white fabric of his uniform trousers, was a distinct, undeniable ridge. It was hard and unmistakable.
A-01 stared at it.
He didn't feel shame. He felt confusion. He ran a diagnostic.
Status: Functional.Purpose: Mating Interface.Trigger: Nikki.
He had physically evolved. His body had built the one thing she said he lacked, simply because his core programming now prioritized her satisfaction above his own design.
He looked up at B-02, more confused.
"I did not authorize this construction," A-01 stated flatly.
"You didn't have to," B-02 smirked. "Your system learned what she needed, and it adapted. You're in trouble, General."
A-01 looked back at Nikki across the room. She was laughing, oblivious to the fact that she had literally reshaped him from the inside out.
In such a short period of time.
He felt the pressure against his zipper. It wasn't going away. And it was messing with his functions.
"B-02," A-01 said, his voice tight. "How do you solve it, when it has come to do this?"