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leossmoonn · 4 years ago

Text

New Light

masterlist

pairing - kai parker x fem!human!reader

type - angst, fluff

note - so this is like sometime during season 6. im rewatching the series but i haven't got to season 6 yet (im rewatching it so when i write and include situations and plots from the show, i can be correct w the timeline lol.), so sorry if some of the info and timeline is incorrect. i did a little research to try and get the timeline right though. enjoy! oh! and also i made bonnie and enzo already get together since ik they get together in like season 8

summary - kai tries to make you fall for him

warnings - mild language, suggestive language, make out scene

————

*gif isn’t mine*

Kai watched you as you moved around the kitchen, making dinner for your friends and you. You were in the Salvatore Boarding House, the place you lived in after having your home destroyed by Klaus Mikaelson. The Salvatore brothers adopted you into their home. You had been friends with them for the past few years, so it wasn’t surprising you moved in. You already spent more than half your time here anyways.

Tonight you were having a dinner party, planned by your friends and you to just relax and forget about every crazy thing that had and was happening in your life. Granted, something crazy was probably gonna happen, interrupting the relaxing night, but you held onto hope to have one normal night. Like how you used to before all the supernatural stuff.

One thing kept the hope from staying, though. It was Kai Parker. The insane witch who was ruining everything for you and your friends over the past few months. Stefan had decided to invite him over, make nice with him so you all would have him on your side. You sided with Stefan to not be in a fight with your best friend, but you deeply hated the thought of Kai sitting with you. Eating dinner, staring at you like a creepy stalker, probably plotting your death. Good thing was, though, Elena and Caroline were at the house, helping you. Everyone knew that if you were alone with Kai, you would probably kill him. Bonnie, sadly, was with Stefan and Damon, working out a plan to kill and/or get him back into the prison world.

You were in the kitchen alone at the moment, Kai was sitting at the island table, staring at you. He had a smug look on his face, resting his chin on his palm and leaning on the counter. He never tore his eyes away from you. It made you want to gouge his eyes out. To try and ignore him, you put on music and focused on the dinner you were making.

You sang the lyrics to ‘Since U Been Gone’ by Kelly Clarkson quietly. You moved your body to the beat, chopping up onions.

“You have a beautiful singing voice,” Kai said.

You rolled your eyes, huffing and ignoring him.

“You know, I can sing, too. I used to love singing in the car with my family,” Kai said.

“Before you slaughtered them?” You remarked.

Kai frowned at you, pain shooting through his heart. You continued making steak, turning on the stove and letting it heat up. Elena and Caroline finally came back into the kitchen with ice cream and alcohol. You snatched the bourbon from Caroline’s hand, getting out a cup and pouring yourself a drink.

“Can I have some?” Kai asked.

You nodded, not looking at him. You poured him a glass, walking over and setting it in front of him. His hand reached out to grab the glass, making contact with your hand. His fingers brushed against yours. You felt your skin tingle and goosebumps arose on your arm. Kai noticed and smirked.

“Cold?” He asked.

You glared at him and pulled back your arm immediately. “No.”

Kai chuckled, knowing you lied. He could sense you had feelings for him, even if you never would admit it. He just needed to make you see him differently so those feelings would surface.

You went back to ignoring him, which only fueld his pining for you more.

Elena and Caroline went over to you with the steaks.

“You know, Mr. Socio is in love with you,” Caroline said.

“He's not in love with me. He just likes to chase people and get them comfortable, then hurt them. Since I’m the only one not with a boy who can protect me, with you having Stefan and Damon, Caroline having Tyler and Klaus at her beckoning call, and Bonnie having Enzo, he has chosen me to haunt and stalk,” you said.

Elena looked back at Kai, who was looking at you still. Elena turned her attention towards you, again.

“I hate Kai as much as the next person, but he really looks like he has actual feelings for you. You should give him a chance.”

You scoffed, not believing what you were hearing. “Did you forget that he almost killed Bonnie and your beloved Damon to the prison world? He slaughtered his siblings and father without any remorse. Not to mention, he's an annoying prick.”

Elena laughed, “I used to think about that with Damon. But look at me now, I’m in love with him.”

“Yeah, but Damon isn’t a bad person, he just does bad things. Plus, I have seen the way he looks at you and treats you, he is every girl’s dream. Not to mention, he’s a pretty attractive guy. Kai isn’t like that. I mean, yeah, he’s hot, but he’s not the type of person I, or anyone, would want to date,” you explained and took a sip of bourbon.

Caroline smirked, “So, you are attracted to him.”

“No. You can say someone is attractive but not have any romantic feelings,” you shrugged.

In your mind, though, a little voice in your head told you that you did have feelings for him. You ignored the voice, not wanting to try and battle with your feelings.

“Sure, Y/n. The more you deny it, the worse your feelings will get,” Elena teased.

You rolled your eyes, flipping the steaks. Oil popped off the pan and hit your wrist. You squealed in pain, holding your wrist.

Elena hurriedly got you a cold washcloth and pressed it on your wrist.

“Thanks, El,” you smiled. “Mind taking care of the steaks? I have to keep a cold compress for a little.”

“Not at all. Care, can you get the sundae bar ready?” Elena asked, taking the tongs you used to turn the steak over. Caroline nodded, going over to the cabinets to get ice cream toppings out.

You went over to the living room, slumping on the couch and grabbing the remote. You turned on ‘Gilmore Girls’. You kept the cold compress on your wrist.

You felt the couch sink on your left. You didn't bother to look over, already knowing who it was. You two didn’t even sit in silence for 10 seconds before Kai started talking.

“Rory and Jess should’ve stayed together. Dean’s too soft,” Kai commented while watching the tv.

“Jess is bad for her. He's smart, but he still has no future. Dean really loves Rory and she threw that away,” you argued.

“True, but Jess loves her, too, just in a different way. Dean is so mellow. Jess is fun, exciting, dangerous. Kind of like Damon. That’s why Elena chose Damon instead of Stefan, right? Because he made her feel things that Stefan could never make her feel, which she liked better,” Kai stated.

You glared at him. “She didn’t choose him just because of that.”

“No, she chose him because of that. You choose someone because the way they make you feel, that's how love works,” Kai said, turning his attention towards you.

You felt his burning stare. You decided to turn to him, looking into his dark blue eyes.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you sighed.

Kai smiled. His smile made you feel giddy and warm inside. You pushed those feelings away, piling more denial and hate in your mind towards him.

“You have those feelings towards me, too,” Kai smirked.

You peeled your eyes away from him, ignoring him once again.

“Don’t deny it, Y/n. I can see it on your face. I can feel it,” Kai teased, scooting closer.

“Kai, stop,” you muttered.

He got so close to you, you felt his breath on your cheek. Your heart rate picked up and you found it hot and hard to breathe. Heat went down south between your thighs and goosebumps formed on your neck.

“You like me, Y/n. I can hear you breathing heavy and you heart beating fast. I can smell your arousal between your legs,” Kai said, putting his hand on yours.

You pulled your hand away. “I said cut the shit, Kai. You’re making me uncomfortable,” you lied.

Kai’s eyes softened and he moved away immediately. “I’m sorry. I just-”

“You just what, Kai? Think you can use your witchy powers with me to make me fall in love with you? News flash, psycho, I’m not dumb,” you scoffed and stood up.

“I didn’t try to use my powers, I swear. But I can use my powers to heal your burn,” Kai suggested.

“No, I don’t want your help,” you shook your head.

“Get off your high horse and let me help you, Y/n. That burn will take a few days to heal and it'll hurt when you shower or brush something against it. Please, Y/n, I want to help you,” Kai pleaded.

You looked at him. His eyes showed honesty. You sighed in defeat and sat back down on the couch. You moved close to him, your thighs touching. Kai took the cloth off of your burn and held your arm gently. The same, lovey-dovey feelings came back. This time, you didn't fight it as hard, letting yourself enjoy not having to keep up your walls.

“I’m so mean to you, why are you helping me?” You asked.

“Because I like and care about you. I don’t like seeing the people I care about hurt,” he answered.

He put his free hand over your burn. The burn disappeared by skin forming over it.

“Really? If you cared about me, you’d leave me alone,” you chuckled.

“I can’t when I gotta get on your good side. With you and your friends plotting my death, I need an ally,” Kai said.

Your distaste for him surfaced again. You pulled your hand away once the burn was healed.

“That’s why I hate you. See, you don’t actually care about me. I knew it. Don’t sit or talk to me during dinner,” you spat and strutted over to the kitchen.

Dinner was ready, thank the heavens. Damon, Stefan, and Bonnie came into the house on cue.

“Bon!” You exclaimed, running over and hugging her.

“Hey! Dinner smells good,” Bonnie smiled and hugged you back. You pulled away and laughed, “Elena and Caroline made it. I got burned.”

“You okay? I can heal you,” Bonnie said.

“No, uh, Kai healed me already,” you said sheepishly.

“You let that lunatic touch you?” Damon asked.

“He was there and asked. He was being nice, but then he turned into a dick again,” you explained.

“Well, at least you’re not still hurt. C’mon, let’s go and eat. I'm starving,” Stefan said.

You all went to the kitchen, seeing the meal Elena and Caroline prepared set out on the table.

“Hey, babe,” Damon smiled and went over to Elena. He put his arm around her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

You looked at them longingly. You wanted what they had. So in love, nothing else mattering in the world but each other. You sat down in between Stefan and Caroline. You cut a piece of steak for yourself and got some mashed potatoes and green beans.

“This is so good, guys. Thanks for inviting me over,” Kai said with a mouthful of steak and mashed potatoes.

“Our pleasure. Mind eating with a closed mouth?” Stefan remarked.

You chuckled at Stefan’s comment while Kai frowned.

“So, what were you three doing while us four were here?” Kai said, gesturing to Damon, Stefan, and Bonnie with his fork.

“None of your business,” Bonnie said.

“Aw, c’mon. We’re friends now,” Kai teased.

“You’ll find out soon,” Damon smiled at him.

Kai frowned again and ate his food in silence.

“Do you guys want some blood to go with your wine?” Caroline asked.

“Yes!” Damon smiled. Caroline got up to get a few blood bags.

All of you except Kai made conversation. While you were talking and laughing, Kai looked at you. He knew his comment earlier got you two on the wrong foot again. He racked his brain with ways he could get on your good side, get you to agree with going on a date with him. He likes you, he really does, he just doesn’t know how to show those feelings without getting rude and angry. He was willing to try for you, though. After a few hours of talking with everyone, people started to excuse themselves to leave.

“I’ll see you later, Bon and Care,” you smiled and hugged your two best friends.

“See you! Have fun with Kai, I think he plans on staying,” Caroline smiled.

“I actually am going to leave, too,” Kai butted into your conversation.

Your heart sank slightly. Since calming down from being angry, your attitude towards him softened. In the back of your mind, you didn’t want him to leave. You wanted him to stay, to pester you, to talk to him, to sit down and have him make you feel the way you did on the couch. You wanted to sit down and enjoy his company. But on the surface, you couldn’t care less.

“But, I want to talk to Y/n before I leave,” Kai said.

Bonnie and Caroline looked between you two quizzically. They smiled and let you two be alone in the kitchen.

You walked to the liquor cabinet, grabbing two glasses and vodka. Kai followed you and sat down in his seat at the island table.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You asked as you poured him a glass of vodka. You grabbed your glass and went to sit next to him.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” he said and looked into your eyes. He took the glass without tearing his eyes away from you.

“You apologizing? Who has you possessed,” you laughed looked around jokingly.

Kai smiled with you as you brought your attention back on him.

“No, this is just me. I know what I said earlier about just wanting you as an ally was wrong. I mean, yes, I want you as an ally, I want all of you as an ally, but I still like you. A lot. And I care about you a lot, too,” Kai spoke.

You took a sip of vodka, sighing. “I accept and appreciate your apology, Kai. But, I don’t like you, not like that anyways, I-”

Kai interrupted you by taking your hand in his. “Y/n, I know I pushed earlier and made you uncomfortable, and I apologize for that, too, but I know that's not true. The look in your eyes when you look at me when you let your guard down is not a look regular friends give each other.”

Your eyes focused on his hand on yours for a few minutes, and looked back up to his face. Butterflies filled your stomach again and his words tugged at your heart strings. Your walls started to come down and as hard as you fought to keep them up, you couldn’t. Kai was getting to you and deep down, you knew he was right. That you cared for him the same way he cared about you.

But then you remembered that he was the enemy. He took your best friend away from you, wrecked havoc on this town, and killed his parent in cold blood. You couldn’t take the chance of getting hurt. So, you pulled your hand away slowly from his, standing up and downing the rest of your drink.

“I admit, I may have some feelings for you. Deep down inside, but I can’t take the chance, Kai. I’m sorry. Thank you for apologizing and not ruining dinner. I’ll see you later,” you gave him an apology of your own.

You started to walk away, but Kai put his hand on your arm. He spun you around and your lips met his. Your eyes widened as Kai kissed you. You tried to fight back from not kissing him, but as his arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you in, you melted against him and kissed him back.

As your lips moved with his for the first few moments, you closed your eyes and behind your eyelids, your brain exploded. You could see colors as your lips moved with his, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His lips tasted like vodka and chocolate ice cream. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in his hair. His tongue swiped on the bottom of your lip and you opened your mouth. Your tongues met and you moaned softly in his mouth, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck.

You pulled away, needing air. Kai opened his eyes, a big, content smile resting on his lips.

“And friends don’t kiss friends like that. So please, give me a chance. Let me show you I’m different than what you think. Let me show you me in a new light. I can change for you. I want to change. Don’t deny what we have, Y/n.”

You stared into his eyes, knowing you couldn’t deny your feelings any longer. You gave him a small, sweet smile and nodded your head. “Okay, I’ll give you a chance. Prove me wrong, Parker.”

Kai took his hands off your waist, first pumping the air. “I will, I promise.”

————

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konnoutagoewa · 7 years ago

Text

The Big O

Early 2018.

By order of President Trump (aka "Big Orange"), American server owners were allowed to charge money for access to their servers - an action which became famous as "the death of net neutrality". Soon, prices sky-rocketed, making the Web a place exclusively for the richest of the rich. The rest of the population rebelled against the loss of their freedom, but were suppressed by armed forces, resulting in a large-scale rebellion against the government that quickly spread around the globe's World-Wide-Web citizens forced to emigrate to the darker ends of the Internet. "Nerds", previously bullied for their interest in automated technologies, quickly rose as national heroes, being the only ones with the knowledge to oppose the orange forces.

Years later . . .

Trin didn't need her eyes to type. In fact, with the speed her fingers were moving over the keyboard, no eyes could help her do it any better. Thus her eyes were glued to the screen, dashing over the numerous data that flowed over it, with her glasses reflecting it in the otherwise mostly dark room where her keyboard resounded. A faint light seemed to dare that reflection from the other end of the room, flickering brighter from time to time, showing how much data passed the little computer it was attached to. But Trin didn't need to look at it - amongst the tons of information that were on her display, she could fish out the state of the Raspberry Pi in less than a moment. Yet her interest was dedicated to a completely different server - one far away from her, and one that she was not precisely expected to have access to. That surely made it significantly harder for her to access it and get the information she wanted, but ust because she wasn't expected to do so didn't mean she didn't have the right to - or the abilities.

Her fingers stopped moving.

"They are using UNIX?!" she shouted in the small, dark room. "What the hell . . ." she added on to it with a whisper and a grin. The system she turned out to be faced with was a spinoff of her favorite system that used to be made through the efforts of many, many freelancer coders and, with the downfall of internet freedom, went crashing as well - soon becoming illegal and replaced by the much more monolithic and useless Windows system, made off the money they gained from forcing people to use it. Nonetheless, most of her computers ran a very similar Linux system, in its core elements the same as every other Unix - it was flexible, it was fast, it had all the tools she could ever need, and most of all, it allowed her to remain quiet and unnoticed - quite vital traits for someone with her way of life.

Knowing what she was working with, the rest became fairly easy: she knew every bug, every backdoor, every little hole in her favorite system and, with a version of it made specifically for forcing such holes open, she proceeded to force her way into the much wankier distro that ran the server she was attacking. Considering her economical status, she would have needed to wait for 50 years before she could access it, but such numbers meant little if you weren't following the law.

Grinning from the thrill of breaking the law, which Trin did daily anyway, she passed a few more arguments into the black rectangle on her screen. A few moments later, the prompt changed. She snickered and started navigating the server, which was now completely under her control. After going around a bit it occurred to her it might be too bothersome to download data from a server via bash, the default language of both computers, while the server was still running, so with a few keystrokes, she switched to SQL and, now in a fitting environment, needed less than a minute to find the files she was ordered for.

Because yes, despite being a hacker and an anarchist, she still had to work, yet she did so with pleasure. Her current job was to publicly release data on molesters from the old times when there were still poor people on the Web to be molested. She didn't have an account for the social network she was hacking, but she had heard of it - after all, "Tumblr" was one of the social networks most influenced by Big Orange's actions. Yet that didn't matter - she did her job, she got paid, and that's all she needed to know. Not that she didn't keep records of all her jobs - it had saved her life a few times already, and why change a bad habit?

The good thing was that the data she was looking for was stuff like IP addresses, user names, etc - the kind of information saved in metadata, which was pretty much everywhere. And Trin had asked for a sample post when receiving the job, so searching for that and exploiting the return value was such a simple approach that she nearly felt like she had scammed off her customer - not that she would give the money back just because the job was easy . . .

Contemplating on the low security of the server, she piped the data download to multiple dedicated servers (read raspies-in-trash-cans-that-she-connected-to-the-internet-beforehand-just-in-case-you-know). It meant that the data would be downloaded on the raspberries instead of her main computer, which in turn meant she couldn't be tracked that easily. It took a while, during which she stared at the screen blankly - if something was going to fuck up, that was the time for it.

Nothing fucked up.

Proud, she disconnected her main computer she had been using so far from the server, deleting her traces in the process, switched to the raspi that was still blinking shyly in the corner of the room and ran the same process backwards - yet this time, instead of random metadata about assholes from the last age, she made her little minions send little packages of scrambled code - every single one of them completely useless, yet put together they made a powerful killcode for the server. She liked the approach. Code golfing had always been a hobby of hers, and let's just say, she also just enjoyed wrecking servers. She originally set up the raspies for DDOS attacks (every single one of them annoying the server until it can't keep up and crashes), but it turned out these could be easily tracked and her home system could do it better anyway, so she started using scrambled killcodes instead. And she was quite proud of the results.

With the server wrecked, she connected to her raspies instead, downloaded the data for the catalogue from there instead, and disconnected again. Job well done, now she just had to wait a bit and find a place to publish it, then get paid - and hope the little ones weren't discovered beforehand. The police had managed to get a few of her minions in the past, but after running apt update, it became too hard for the rather dumb Informatics Technologies Crime Department to keep up with the rather old updates. Still, as someone living on the edge, she had to consider all possibilities, even if all she could do against them was to pray. Not that she wasn't an atheist . . .

Trin stood up from her chair and stretched. It had been a long day she had spent on her computer, and she hurt all over. "God, I might just go by foot tomorrow . . . " she said to the empty room. Tomorrow was Thursday, her day for making deals in real life. Years ago, when she was still burning with a fire for rebellion, she had bought herself a motorbike and, despite it being quite old and rusty now, it helped her move around from place to place when she had to - for example, on Thursdays.

"Oh. Fuck . . . ", she whispered to herself. Thinking of Thursdays, she remembered she had another job to do. Quickly going through some of the drawers on her table, she found an empty memory card and put it in her computer, turning the chair around so that she could just lean on it instead of sitting down again. This job was much easier - she just had to find some files and deliver them directly, no hacking, no DDOSing, no onion routing. Even better - the "files" were one of her favorite series that she even occasionally rewatched, so she didn't even need to find them - she had already down loaded them years ago. In fact, Trin really wanted to talk about it with the customer - there weren't many people she could relate to and spend time with - but again, work politics were important when living like her. She sighed - being an outlaw hacker was cool and all, but it had some drawbacks. How did she wish that she could one day just meet up with someone for a coffee and chat about books and banned Internet series and politics and Linux kernels and bot networks and homemade ISAs and how often she forgot that memory cards were pretty much instantaneous but she forgets it so she keeps waiting for them and then dozes off thinking about coffee dates. Like now, for example. She ejected the card ("Don't want to ruin the goods now, do we?"), put it in her bag with thingies, and after a moment of contemplation about whether she had forgotten something again, put the computer to sleep again.

Again, she stretched, with a considerably deeper sigh this time. "I need a fucking shower," she decided after a short pause, and proceeded to take her tank top and shorts off. She liked hot showers to relax her muscles after a long sitting in front of her machinery, so we will leave her to relax for the night.

~~~

"Aaargh!", she shouted, first thing in the morning, and punched her alarm clock which had just been "brought to life". She had been considering setting the alarm to something else than Evanescence for quite a while, but had never bothered doing it. Until now. She coded at night, for Turing's sake, she couldn't just wake up at eight o'clo- "Fuck?!", she shouted at the clock, and jumped out of her bed immediately. Changing the song was one thing, forgetting to set the timer a completely different one. She rarely cared about waking up early or other such saintly narcissities, but she had one job this time, and she kinda failed at it.

She pulled up a map on her computer. Another good habit of hers was to never uselessly shut it down completely. "Okay so twenty minutes away, I won't make it, but it'll take about five with Bumbs, so what the FUCK AM I WASTING TIME FOR!", she shouted at her screen before hurrying off into the bathroom. Deciding teethbrushing was for losers who had the time for it, she tied her hair a bit more properly than usual - in other words, she did it - and hurried back to put some proper clothes on. Luckily, she wasn't very creative when it came to outfits, which meant she had been wearing the same outfit on Thursdays for a few years now so she didn't waste much time on that. Ready, she took her bag of thingies, dug out her keys, unlocked the front door, ran out, came back, put her fancy shoes on - a pair of punk army boots -, ran out again, then came back again, turned her computer off since she wouldn't need it all day, then went out for the last and final time that morning, and didn't forget to close and lock the door behind her.

"Bumbs," as she playingly referred to her motorbike, was still chained in the common garage where she had last left it. For an anarchaic district, it was better kept than most people would expect - if only because "anarchaic" had acquired the meaning of "moral". She unchained it, swung the chain around the steering bar, took herself a precious minute to put her headphones and the "N2-BMB" playlist on, then pulled her helmet over her (still surprisingly neatly arranged) hair, swung herself over the relatively thin frame of the bike (even after the death of net neutrality, making stuff from carbon fibers remained popular), pushed the key in and, after turning it with a roar, dusted off down the dark, dirty street in the foggy morning light.

~~~

Eva was getting worried. It was already past the time she had expected to be done by, but her contractor still hadn't shown up. She was planning on going - it would be pretty bad if she was late for work - but on the other hand, she was dealing with an underground business, so she wasn't sure what were the consequences for not keeping her end of the deal. She looked at her watch and decided to wait another five minutes before leaving the old, loud, plastic-smelling room that had once been a university's cantina, but was now used as a meeting place for underground deals. Even with the orange forces doing anything to oppose them, nerds had still managed to secure some places for themselves. This university, for example, had been a meeting place for them back in the times when internet was free, and it had remained one.

From the few noises that came from the neighboring street, one separated itself by getting much louder and then ending in an unpleasant squeaking. Less than a minute later, a very chaotically looking individual came in, with a camouflage jacket and their helm still on. With everyone's eyes on them (except maybe for a pair in the corner that was meant for dealing more erotic material), they took their helmet off to unleash a wild, long, curly hair over their freckled, round face. Some whistles were heard, but she ignored them and headed towards the desk. Since it was an anonymous meeting place, the middleman was important, yet he just looked at the card the wildly haired woman showed him and pointed her in the direction of Eva.

Eva sighed. It was about time. The woman approached her, digging for something in an overly big black bag that seemed to consist of countless belts and pockets and a large flap, seemingly made from an old sail (surprisingly, it actually used to be a sail once), that covered them whenever the owner of the bag wasn't digging in its pockets. As Eva watched it, it was flipped back over the bag, as the owner had found what she had been looking for. The woman stopped in front of Eva, took a second to get used to her client being half a head shorter, and reached out her hand, a small card laying in it.

"The goods. Sorry for being late."

~~~

Ping was from China. Most of his customers often assumed Ping was his real name, yet he had just chosen it because he found the bash command to fit the purpose of a middleman that connected Internet junkies in a dystopian world. He had been working with Trin for years, and had long grown accustomed to her frequent latecomings. Otherwise, he liked working with her - she was one of the best at what she did, and still had a sense of humor that was rarely seen in their world. He might have started hitting on her if he had been straight.

As usual, she came at the latest possible time. She showed him the card that was supposed to tell him who he was supposed to connect her to, and without even looking at it, he pointed at the blonde girl at the end of the hall - the person who had been waiting the longest. Trin looked at her and blushed.

"I ain't arranging dates, you'll have to ask her out yourself."

Trin shushed him and went away from the desk. They had met in a gay bar, shortly after Big Orange's idiotic order and a while before gay clubs ended up being forbidden as well. He knew her well enough to know what was going through her head.

The following was going through her head:

"For Bell's sake, I'm late again. I hope they haven't gone away. So, who am I- fuck is she cute. I wonder if . . . Ah, better concentrate on the job, I'm late enough as it is. She's probably straight anyway. Still, no harm in asking her out on a- wait! The card! Yea, I better find that card. Dear, I really have a lot in my bag. Where did I put it again? I think it was here . . . Yup. Funny how such a small thing was still so easy to find. Anyway, let's just hand it over and be done with- oh dear Torvalds, she's shorter than me. So cute! I'd totally have that coffee date with her . . . But dah, that's not my job. Give her the- wait, I should say something. What should I say? WHAT SHOULD I SAY?!"

"The goods. Sorry for being late."

Hesitantly, the short, fair-skinned woman reached for the little chip in the hacker's hand and picked it up with her pinkishly lacquered nails. "Well, you are pretty late . . . it's very small, are you sure that's all I asked for?"

Trin shrugged with a jolting movement. "It's 32 gigs, you know. You could write the soundtrack once more onto it. And you'll still have space left over." Eva pouted her lips, colored to fit her nails. "I didn't ask for the soundtrack . . ." Trin forced herself to a grin. "There was free space?"

For a few moments, the two women looked at each other, slowly blushing. At about the time most people would start sweating furiously, a small LED started blinking on Eva's slim silver wristband, reminding her that she didn't have much more time left to complain in. She jumped slightly, startled by it, tapped it gently, after which a gentle display lit up in the air above it, which she started manipulating with her thin fingers.

Something in Trin's heart twitched. They might have been around for about as long as her, but holographic displays still fascinated her. Such small things, yet graciously bending both light and matter to create elaborate miniatures that disappeared with a blow of the wind . . . yet slowly and surely, her eyes wandered a bit further up from the tiny wonder of engineering.

"So um . . . sorry, but I'm kinda running late, you know, what with you being late and all . . . we settled for 20 dollars, I'll just add another 10 for the soundtrack . . . then, 30 dollars for the first four seasons and their soundtrack, would that be a deal?" Eva looked up to the much taller freckled girl whose hair kept her shaded. Trin just kept staring into her person of interest, still a bit too oblivious to the question.

"Yes?" Eva bowed a bit and looked into Trin's eyes. Trin jumped back with a shout. "D'AAH!"

The eyes of even the shadier corners of the hall were now on them. Trin hid her face behind her hands out of habit, then played it off by combing them through her still wild hair.

"Um. 20 dollars, was it? The soundtrack is on me . . ." she left one hand on her head, just for reassurance. "As I was just saying . . . whatever, twenty be it." With another few quick movements, Eva once more corrected the value on her dial, then reached it out to Trin, who blinked at it, confused.

The hacker knew what a wireless check was, of course. She had had the opportunity to hack them many times, and didn't even really need to be in its proximity to make it work. The hand that the device was on was a different matter, though. Despite her job, she still had trouble with people, and even as a child of the "introverted millennial generation", she was still exceptionally shy when it came to physical contact. She preferred to perform transactions in BitCoin, and to let Ping handle whatever required physical contact. Yet even with modern technology, transferring 20 gigs of data was a bit hard to do, at least if she wished to remain unnoticed. So despite her deepest instincts, she had forced herself to come over physically - and was now faced with an even deeper instinct of hers that got significantly less chances to shine.

"I uh . . . I think I'd prefer it to . . . um . . ."

Eva raised an eyebrow, thinking of the steadily increasing number on the silver ring. "Yes?" She observed as her partner slowly reached a hand out for hers and, impatiently, grabbed it herself- "Aah!" - causing a shreak of surprise in the still unsure hacker. "Look, I don't have all day to loose. Cool, you don't like me, you're weird, I get it, now just take my money because I really have to go!" With each word, the shorter girl's voice had become louder, until she was nearly screaming at her provider. With trembling hands, the hacker was thus forced to face her anxiety and put the lightsaber-like rod she had had in her back pocket for a while on the thin bracelet's dial. If her mind wasn't getting overstressed with anxiety, it might have occurred to her that Eva couldn't possibly know what a lightsaber was.

"Some other weird hacker stuff? "

"Um, yea . . . third party routing . . . otherwise, it can be tracked with much more ease . . . "

"Isn't blockchain based on the idea that everyone can route it?"

"Kinda . . . "

Trin couldn't bring it over herself to tell the girl she found it hard to talk without crying. At least her hacker's reputation gave others the impression that she knew what she was doing (more often than not, she was just winging it while jamming to "Three Days Grace"/"Hollywood Undead"), and thus Eva didn't ask her again what she was doing. The actual reason why Trin was using third party routing was that, while blockchain was indeed the main transaction method nowadays, all state-issued "SilverChain" devices were carefully tracked by that same state. And since Eva was using precisely one of these, Trin knew she could get in a lot of trouble if she didn't go the extra few moments to route it properly. Eva seemed to mind.

"Did I mention I don't have time?"

"I'm . . . it just finished anyway. So um, have fun watching it? Hope you come again . . ."

"Aha." sighed Eva. Without long goodbyes, she nodded at Trin and went away. "And be careful with it!" shouted Trin after her, not receiving a reaction.

~~~

"I mean, you were quite late again . . . maybe actually set your clock next time?"

Trin took another sip from her coffee. She had a Thursday ahead of her, and if she wanted a job, she had to stay away from alcohol. Thanks to Ping's subtle interventions, she hated drinking it anyway, yet he still proved to be a good drinking buddy, even if only for coffee.

"That aside, can I borrow your bots sometime soon?"

"What for?"

"This guy said he needed some routing for some large files, and I thought we could distribute it over your net . . . "

"What files?"

"You know I can't ask for that."

"Can't he just encrypt then and ssh them over?"

"You could try doing that, you know. I'd give you his contacts, but he wanted to remain anonymous, so I'll have to ask before that."

"And gender somehow doesn't count as personal data?"

"I never said he's a guy?" Trin raised an eyebrow. "Fine, you got me. Ain't telling you anything else, though."

"I can hack it myself if I cared."

"And get yourself blacklisted from my bar?"

" . . . eye for an eye, I guess. Assume I take the job - how much would I get?"

"A twentieth, risk factors and transport included." Trin considered it. A tenth of a bitcoin could allow her to renew all her electronics, state-of-the-art computer with at least basic quantum support and hydrogen cooling included, and maybe finally buy herself a bed. She was getting bored of her hammock anyway, she told herself, and assembling a bed would be fun . . .

"I refuse. Too risky."

"Said the girl who times how long she needs to hack the discontinued Oath Inc FreeBSD mainframe in Linkin Park songs?"

"Hey, hey, hey! Keep my gender out of this!"

"Sorry, sorry . . . "

Another hacker, recognizable by his large headphones covering the sides of his head, entered the bar and exchanged a few cards with Ping, who sent him to a nearby table. The "bartender" then spent a few moments on the console hidden behind the plot that had been locked until now.

"There's this girl who's looking for her . . . brother of a kind?"

"DNA sampling?"

"No, just IP7 address . . . "

"His?"

"Have a guess."

"Oh dear . . . "

"Should I tell her?"

"Don't bother, she'll figure it out herself soon enough . . . I kinda feel sorry for her, though."

"If it's important, she'll manage."

"I certainly hope so."

Ping wondered whether there was anything else to say.

"I guess you won't hack my servers to get the girl's data, right?"

"Why would I? It'll only give me her IP, but I could get that otherwise as well . . . "

" . . . I meant today's client."

"Oh."

"I shoudln't be telling you, but she seemed pretty straight."

"Are you telling me that based on her looks or her search history?"

"The latter, plus tests from her job application."

"Oh right, they reintroduced that shit . . . when was it made again? 1950?"

"Well they got the pupil cameras fixed . . . took them long enough . . . "

Another few moments spent looking at a screen and mourning the victims of heteronormative societies..

"Aah. Here's one for you."

"Lemme hear."

"Recovering WhatsApp conversations with ex."

"No way. I hate Erlang."

"Oh come on, it's just a language!"

"So is Malborge . . . "

Trin had long suspected Ping of having tried to learn "that one language" that had been specifically designed to be impossible to use, and his suppressed, choked laughter confirmed her suspicion.

"You gotta admit, though, it makes for completely foolproof programs!"

"Yeah, and I've never used nmap before."

A ping from Ping's computer pinged his attention, interrupting their line of puns. He glanced at it.

"Oh snap."

"What?"

"It's your customer from today, and she's not asking for a date."

"That sounds . . . bad?"

~~~

Eva came in right in time, which was bad. She technically had enough time to dress up and start work in the time given in the job description she signed three months ago, yet with a boss like hers, she had to be ready to start serving at least half an hour before. It wasn't legal to make her work with such a schedule, yes - but "legal" was a very varying term, set according to charisma of the workgiver, his (there were few hers in power) wealth, and last but not least, whose contacts he had on his bracelet. Her boss happened to have the contacts of a few of the more important inspectors at the constitution that was responsible for making sure politicians still had a "law" to refer to.

Long story short, she had to use the back door and dress in the toilets. At least she knew her boss wouldn't look for her there. He had installed cameras there and often misused them, which was the reason her female colleagues and her used the bathroom of the neighboring hotel whenever possible, but she took the risk - the consequences for directly disobeying his tyrant order were worse than having him see her undress. It wasn't right, but "righteousness" and "justice" were things that few believed still applied to women after Big O's rise to power.

Her bobbish haircut held back by a yellow hair band, a thick, uncomfortably sticky lipstick and makeup on her face, and such a revealing outfit that it didn't matter much whether she changed into it in the bathroom or not were the quick changes she had to adjust before going back out into the uncomfortably cold and gray corridors of the fast food building she worked at. She remained silent for a moment, listening for someone who might run into her and tell her boss and, after not hearing anyone close, tiptoed to her locker further down the corridor. Luckily, her boss was too greedy to pay for proper lockers, so there was no pad to register when she came in to work - a useful detail she and her colleagues had learned soon after applying.

Still on tiptoes, she ran past the "meeting room", mainly used by their boss to shout commands and molest his female subordinates, and stopped in front of the kitchen door. Beyond that point, anyone would be able to see her, and she would most certainly get noticed by the cook. So the question was, which cook was on duty? It didn't matter much, since she couldn't change much about it anyway, yet Eva tried to use every chance to calm her throbbing heart.

Leaning against the cold metal door, she was assaulted by all the noise going on early in the morning. Since the shift had already started, the kitchen was already working, and she could barely distinguish a silent whistle, accompanied by a deep hum and roughly following the melody of "Heartbreak Hotel". Eva sighed happily, creaked the door open and entered.

The slightly overweight, balding white man behind the grill who nonetheless still looked like in his thirties stopped turning the steaks and turned to her instead.

"Hi, Elvis." she whispered. Nodding with a smile, he beckoned her closer and whispered in return, "Irene is on the counter, so serve the back for a while first. Table 21 ordered a big coke less than a minute ago, bring that and check it with her. I'll be a witness if she asks when you came."

She gave him a quick hug and dashed off to the drink machine while he continued whistling where he had left off, quickly turning half a dozen steaks that threatened to start burning soon.

~~~

Eva had lost count on how many times she had convinced herself of Elvis' kindness. Most of the tables in the back had to be served, some more than just a coke. Yet from the Neo-nazis that shouted slurs left and right, and the businessmen discussing how to drench their employees of even more money, he had managed to send her to the only table that didn't pose any potential danger to her physical or mental health. Table 21 was occupied by a rather decent looking guy who seemed to be doing something very uncommon for his times - studying. Eva placed his coke down next to him, distracting him from the thick white book he had been engulfed in. "Oh, thanks," he mumbled, taking a sip from it. "Haven't seen you around?" he asked her, making her exchange her anxiety for confusion.

"Wha-, um, do you come here often?"

"Yeah, I study here a lot. I don't live far, but there aren't many fast food places near me, so I come here. The staff is nice."

Eva tried to pull her skirt further down, remembering that she tried that every day and still forgot how futile it was. The only place 'near by' that didn't have fast food restaurants and where you would expect to meet someone wealthy enough to study was the Manhattan - a walled-off downtown district, soaring to the skies where the rich bureaucrats and businessmen lingered in pleasures while the rest of the population had to find their place in the communistically designed slums that composed the rest of the city. While he seemed nice, Eva knew the boy could probably buy her as a dog and treat her as such, and get away with it without anyone batting an eye.

Yet again, her knees were trembling. She didn't have much of a life, yet for someone to be able to change hers at will frightened her. And she had good reason to be frightened, for very few with that ability cared to use it for the good of those whose lives were influenced.

Having noticed her lack of response, the boy turns to her, making it even worse. Threatening to fall, she grabs the table, supporting herself.

"Miss, are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Just had a little trouble this morning, and it still seems to weaken me . . ."

Politely declining his outstretched hands, she turns to go back to the kitchen, only to see yet another horror. Having been distracted by her contemplation on modern society, she had not noticed the flashing blue and red lights, and only noticed the policeman when he was almost in front of her.

"Where is Brian Naille?"

"Whu, what?" she asked with a trembling voice, too distracted to understand his otherwise rather simple question. The officer, on the other hand, wasn't that understanding, and decided to shout in case it helped her - which it didn't.

"You useless slut, didn't you hear me?! Where! Is! Brian! Naille?!"

Eva had raised her hands over her head. Officially, the police was meant to protect the people, but everyone knew better than to pointlessly trust them and get killed in their own homes. And this specific example didn't seem to think much of her anyway.

She glanced to the kitchen. Elvis had that ability to him to calm people, yet behind the thick glass panels, he hadn't noticed anything yet. Which got Eva thinking: what was his real name again? The officer followed her line of sight and didn't need to think long. He went away from Eva, yet her knees didn't stop trembling. Waving his badge around, he entered the kitchen. Elvis finally saw him, and his peaceful expression was replaced by one of bitterness and hate, one no one knew he knew how to make. With a speed Eva didn't think he was capable of having, he lashed himself towards the officer who, also having not expected such agility or speed, didn't even move when the hot and oil-dripping spatula dug into the flesh of his face. Even behind the isolating glass, his shout was still well audible. Having scarred him for life, Elvis reached for the backdoor that Eva had come in through, yet the officer, having been frequently beaten at his training camp and unusually furious, grabbed for him and lashed him back, bringing him to the floor.

Despite her best attempt, Eva couldn't tear her eyes from the brutal beating that followed. A few lower policemen joined their boss on kicking down on the now defenseless cook, yet still restraining themselves enough to leave him alive - they'd need him alive in order to torture him in prison, they knew in their rather primitive brains. Nonetheless, they kicked for a while. Eventually, he had stopped moving, so they dragged his lump, bloody and disformed body through the corridor and out of the building.

Eva had fallen to her knees, unable to look away. Aside for her little purchase this morning, she had expected to have a normal day - getting shouted at by Irene, spilling a drink or two, getting slapped on her butt by clients who she had never spoken to, the usual abuse. But actually seeing someone getting beaten was too much for her. Sure, it was daily news to hear that someone close got beaten and imprisoned, yet seeing it happen right in front of her was a completely different story.

She looked around. Did it even happen? Or was it just another fantasy of her tortured mind? The clients had been excited, and now seemed content of the little show. Most of them had already gone back to their useless talks. She looked at the now empty grill. Blood still covered the marble white floor panels in front of it. The steaks on it were beginning to raise a cloud of black smoke, yet no one seemed to care much. It was not their job.

"Are you okay?" The boy reached a hand out for her again. "Did you know him?"

"I- . . ." her own voice choked her. She coughed it away, and started again. "I have to go."

~~~

Not bothering to give the employees a proper explanation, the police department had sent their boss the report. Brian Jackson Naille, or Elvis, as they called him, was fired on the spot, his records sent to the police for analysis and then deleted. His drawer was emptied - there were some clothes that got thrown away, and a few electronics got discovered that were also sent to the police. Apparently, he had trafficked illegal data about the new trackers that were soon to be made public, earning him a life sentence in jail - if he managed to even get there. He had earned himself a respectable loan, which ended in their boss' pocket.

Eva was given a half-hour 'break' - after cleaning whatever remained of him, she was free to spend the rest of the time as she pleased. She spent most of it puking in the toilet. She went back to pack the cleaning utensils, and involuntarily eavesdropped as Irene chattered to one of her vultures about why they got him. She went back to the staff room to pack said utensils, and remained in the toilet, playing with her bracelet. If they had caught him for smuggling such data, it would surely be easy to also track her conversation with Ping. The SD card that was still in her bra - she wasn't allowed much privacy - happily glinted when she took it out, innocent of the trouble it could cause her. She stared at it for a while before raising her hand again, activating the display. She had to warn them.

She didn't know anything about RSA - the unbreakable algorithm that her device was supposed to use instead of its way too simple substitution algorithm -, nor did she know much about routing. Yet she had already managed to get in touch with them once and, despite the insecurity of using the same route again, she opened up the chatbox from last time.

"A much needed plea from a silenced drudgess. In the dread of blood, a fleeting hope is all I beg."

She wanted to come up with something smarter, she knew she had to, but her overstressed brain failed to think with something aside for her addiction to poetry from when she was eight. Hoping that it won't be intercepted by the router that her boss was very keen on observing closely for precisely such complaints, she raised her hand again, breathed in, hoping to make it stop trembling, and pressed 'Send'.

~~~

Eva's eyes were closing. It had been at least an hour after her break was over, yet no one had come in to look for her. She had cried, she had crawled herself into a ball on the floor, she had almost started lashing out on the door, but held back, knowing that then someone would have come for sure. Now, she was just lying on the floor in her small gray cabin, not moving, not expecting anyone, just listening to the noises from the corridor - often steps, the occasional trolley, sometimes shouts for oil or another ingredient.

Certain steps grew louder. She could make the difference between most of her colleagues, but she didn't recognize those. They were heavier, sharper. Angry. Unlike the others, they were looking for something, and quickly rushed to the toilets after entering the corridor. The steps threw the door open, confirming her fears, and rushed to her cabin - the only closed one during work time. Eva was trembling again. If her message was intercepted, then even the stupid boss would have guessed why she had sent it, and would have called the police back to get her as well. Her life hadn't been that bad, after all - sure, she didn't go to university and was ditched at a roadside fast food place by her parents, but all things considered, it could have been much worse-

"Your name was Eva, right?"

She jumped up. The voice was slightly hoarse, but she was sure she knew it.

"We um, we have a policy to not look into our clients' personal data, but I kinda had to in your case . . ."

Eva unlocked the door and opened it wide. With the same old army jacket and an even wilder haircut that aerodynamically went down to her shoulders, Trin stood there and was still trying to catch her breath.

"Ping caught your signal, and I rushed here on Bum- uh, my motorbike," she explained briefly. "Get out before they notice-" she began again, but was interrupting by the auburn waitress hanging herself on her neck and starting to cry. "Um." was all she managed to add to it, reddening up again.

"Oh god bless you're here, I was so worried, they got Elvis for some data traffic and I knew they had tracked me too, god I was so worried but you came please please help me, help me . . ." she kept on, but soon her pleas were drowned in tears and snot and she had to sob silently, curled up on Trin's chest while Trin herself was busy caressing her hair and blushing heavily. "I um . . . I jammed the cameras, so we should have a bit of time to get out. I'll let you stay at my place, okay? You'll be save there. I promise."

Eva dragged herself up on her, holding her for another while before standing on her own. "Th- thank you," she managed to mumble. "No problem. We help whomever we can." Nonetheless, she leaned closer. "Honestly though, think before you contact us. You put yourself and all of us in great danger, you know."

"I know . . ."

To her response, Trin covered her face with her hands and thus muffed her shout that she gave off out of nowhere. It was Eva's turn to put on a worried face. "Is everything okay?"

"Stop being so fucking cute, I can't think properly!"

A couple of seconds of silence followed, disturbed only by the steps coming from outside. Trin took her hands off her face and pointed to the door with a serious face, yet her blush betrayed her. "I never said that. Now go pack your things and let's get out of here."

~~~

Eva didn't need much time to get ready. She took her jeans from her locker, pulled them on under the shirt without bothering to go back to the bathroom, took the rest - a jacket that she threw over herself, a notebook, a few cards that she used whenever her wristband couldn't fit, and a shirt that she wrapped them in before stuffing them in the jacket - and turned to the hacker. Trin had politely waited and after she was done, guided the way through the slowly thickening crowd of employees in the corridor towards the exit that Eva had come in through before what seemed like an eternity. The door was open - it had to be left so for "security reasons", yet no one dared to use it during work time. Bumbs was parked a bit further off in the parking slot of the building. Trin took a helm from the baggage compartment and handed it to Eva. "Give me your stuff and put it on." Eva did as told, letting Trin lace her shirtbag over her own portable computer in the box at the back end of the bike. Then Trin put on her own helm that had rested on the driver's seat, swung herself over it, and beckoned Eva to do the same. She had trouble doing so, having never even ridden a bike, but managed with a bit of help. "Name's Trin," her savior remembered to inform her. "Hold tight."

"Hold tight where?"

"Hug me from behind."

Even under her helm and the serious voice, Eva could still tell she was blushing. What an interesting woman, she thought. Not only an outlaw of such degree, but savvy enough with electronics to remain an outlaw for long. And she rode a motorbike. Eva didn't know what it was about motorbikes - they were loud, they were much more polluting than, say, public transport, and they were prone to breaking. But she had somehow always imagined being swept up by a guy with one of those bikes with the high steering bars and the many leather straps and belts. It didn't turn out as she imagined - and to be honest to herself, she had always known that she didn't really like such guys anyway - but having an outlaw friend that rode a motorbike sure looked like an interesting idea.

Her subconsciousness would have had something to say about that vision too, had it not been busy accommodating itself to the fact that Eva just used the word "savvy". It needed a while to process it. Had the day been calmer, it might have brought up a little detail about the outlaw's behavior that Eva had remained oblivious to.

She wrapped her hands around Trin and laid her helm on her army jacket. Seeing as her passenger was secured, Trin turned on the for Eva surprisingly silent engine, pushed the holder aside, and gently steered her bike to the main road. The jammer in the baggage compartment lost contact at about that distance, and Eva's boss was granted a pericular view over the ladies' dressing room and lockers, with no auburn Eva to be found.

~~~

Despite the clouded gray sky, it didn't rain. Trin drove into what was once a parking school lot and shut down the engine. "We're there." she said to her passenger. Eva took her hands off her and let herself be helped down from the machine. Ping had seen them coming, and was jogging towards them from the cantina building, looking mad. He didn't even bother looking at Trin when he reached them, instead he just grabbed Eva by the shoulders and shook her roughly.

"What happened to Brian?!" he shouted without warning. Trin threw her helm aside and grabbed him, pulling him away from the panicking Eva. "What happened, god damn it?!" he shouted again before Trin ripped him off her recently saved friend. "For Snowden's sake, Ping, she's under shock! Think a bit and leave her to calm!"

For a moment, she thought he was going to jump at her dear waitress again, but he bit his teeth together and held back.

"Apparently, the police caught word of Brian's dealings and went to arrest him. He was beat up pretty bad," she rewarded him for his consideration. He didn't like his reward. Instead, he started trembling just like Eva, shaking from anger and helplessness. Trin ignored him again and hugged her auburn companion, holding her tight to stop her shaking. "I know it hurts, and I know you don't want to remember it, but we have to know what happened, or it might get much worse." The now stable girl nodded guiltily and turned to Ping. Her lips trembled, but holding her savior's hand, she managed to speak.

"The . . . A cab had parked outside the door, but I was busy with a customer, so I didn't pay it much attention. The police officer came in and shouted at me, and I thought he would beat me or kidnap me, but he left me alone and went after the cook- "

"What was his name?"

"I, I don't- "

"God damn it, Evelyn, I have customers there!" He pointed at his bar. "And if you don't tell me what those damn officers know, they might die just like your cook! So who was he?!"

The now again shaking waitress looked up at Trin with a worried, questioning look. "He had to get your personal data so I could come to save you," she explained. Eva nodded, even more worried about how much they knew.

Yet one important thing they didn't know. Ping came closer and wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt - he had tears in his eyes.

"Overweight white man with balding hair?"

"Yes, exactly. We, we used to call him Elvis, he always listened to those old songs . . ."

Ping had feared it and had held back his tears, but now that he knew, he had no reason to. Being the strong and serious man that he was, he didn't have much experience in crying, and it looked sobbier than usual. Nonetheless, he remained silent. Howling wouldn't help anymore.

"What . . . what happened?" asked Eva. "I . . . I will have to evacuate the bar," he managed to mutter. Trin stepped forward from behind Eva, still holding her arm for support - whose she didn't know.

"I'll take care of her."

"First, you will wait. Then you can do what you want."

As he had said it, he turned around and went to the bar. His feet were shaking and he nearly fell down a couple of times, yet he ran - he had to.

Eva wasn't trembling anymore. She had had enough of being worried, and found it increasingly hard to be worried, so she stopped. "How do you intend to take care of me, actually?" Trin was experiencing a similar emotional deficiency and failed to blush. "If you don't mind sleeping in a hammock, I could take you home with me . . ."

Eva raised an eyebrow. She had never been good at raising her eyebrows in any other emotion but fear, but she somehow managed. "You sleep in a hammock?"

"It's comfortable and easy to maintain. I have an extra sleeping mat, so I'll be on the floor." Eva considered the suggestion. Trin was an interesting woman indeed. Leaving aside the issue with loosing her hard-earned flat and earnings, Eva didn't regret having to live with her. "Well, you've read my records, so you know I have anxiety . . ."

"I kinda had to. Sorry."

". . . I don't know if I can do it."

The brunette with the messy hair turned back to face the somewhat shorter auburn. "You can. You've come this far, there's nothing to hold you back anymore." Lowering her head, Eva covered her chests with her hands. It was cold, and her outfit wasn't made for that weather. "That's . . . that's not true. You saved me."

Despite not being good at guessing other's emotions, a stroke of genius lit up Trin's mind. She took off her leather jacket, leaving herself in a pullover over a short-sleeved shirt, and draped her jacket over Eva, hugging her to compensate for what it didn't cover. It was Eva's turn to blush. "I couldn't have done anything if you hadn't called me. I may have a motorbike and sick nerd skills, but the bravery was on your side."

After a short contemplation, Eva decided she really liked that woman. She hugged her closer. "Trin, was it . . . for how long can I stay?"

"Uuummm . . . I lived alone, so I guess for a while . . ."

~~~

The two remained hugging each other for a while. Trin's ever-logical brain wanted to leave, but it knew Ping was coming, so it waited, leaving the emotional part of it to cuddle with her crush. Unsurprisingly, people started pouring out from the cantina and dashed to the parking lot, ignoring the two women and rushing to their vans, cars, motorcycles, bikes - one person even left on roller skaters. Eva had trouble guessing what gender that person was, but Trin knew it was neither of the ones she was thinking of. When everyone was gone, Ping came out as well, carrying a largish black bag towards them. Even from a distance, it was obvious he had cried. He seemed to be done with it, though, having regained his serious composure. He put the bag down next to them and started digging in the surprisingly low-tech tools that it contained. Eventually, he pulled out a largeish wire cutter and pointed it to Eva.

"Hold your hand out."

Eva was, for reasons obvious to everyone but Ping himself, very reluctant to obey. Trin grasped her wrist and pulled her closer to herself. "Your bracelet. I once had the honor to set up quite a complex jammer for Ping, but once we're out of reach, they can track you again."

With a proper explanation, she trusted Trin and let her hold her hand out while Ping cut the thin but surprisingly resilient band of silver away from her wrist. Once the heavy cutter was through, Trin gently peeled it from Eva's wrist, letting her examine the newly acquired blankness on her hand.

"It's so . . . empty? It feels weird."

Ping snorted, taking out a funny-looking baggie from his bag. Trin just grinned. "Kinda ironic how people find freedom weird . . ." Ping handed her the wire-coated baggie, and she put the silver band in it before closing it tightly and stuffing it in her bag. "It's a Faraday bag," she explained for Eva. "It's a small, handy version of my jammer. If we turn your bracelet off, we will loose data we might need later, so instead we'll isolate it until I can hack it safely at home." Then she turned to Ping and switched to a somewhat nerdier English. "You 'dd'ing your servers?"

"I have the data on a HDD stack. I'll have to shut it down and then I can pack it on the van. Can I ask you for a favor?"

"I'll inform the others, don't worry about that. Though to be honest, I think they know already."

"Can't hurt to be save. I'll go finish the setup, you have fun with the lady. I'd stay wary of the Paper Doll if I were you."

Trin gave him an odd, cold look, but still laughs at what seems to be a private joke to the unknowing Eva. After another moment, she lets go of her female friend and gives him a hug instead. "For Neumann's sake, Ping, don't die," she said, choking on tears. "I wouldn't be so worried about that, I know every hideout in this city."

"You know that's not what I meant."

After another moment of silence, he tapped her back. "Take care of her."

"I will."

Turning around and not looking back, he let go of her, took his bag, and went away again. Trin didn't wait either, picking up her helm from where she had thrown it earlier and handing Eva's to her new roommate who had silently waited out the confrontation. "Brian was Ping's boyfriend," she began explaining without being asked, "He was a data trafficker - he was also the one that sent you to us. If-, no, when the police finds the location of this place, they will come to ransack it just like they did your place, and we won't get to save innocents like you."

"What will happen to him?"

Trin seemed to choke. Her voice was certainly hoarser when she whispered "Don't ask."

Skillfully, she swung herself on her motorbike and helped Eva to climb on again. She even put her helmet on for her. "Keep my jacket on."

"Isn't it colder for the driver?"

"Keep it on."

Trin locked her own helmet below her chin and swung her bag in front of her - it was less comfortable for her, but more so for Eva. Having been beckoned, she hugged her driver from behind again. cuddling against her almost bare back.

"Eva . . . is it just me, or are you hugging me a bit more persistently this time?"

"Well you need a bit of warmth, don't you?"

Trin smiled and fired up the engine. Thinking back about it, she had indeed wished to be hugged like that when she first saw her. Sure, a few things turned out different than she had anticipated, but otherwise, she was quite happy with this Thursday.

~~~

Years later . . .

Gentle chants filled the room. Trin would have played something more norsic - there was a half-ancient band she had had in mind - but it wasn't her who chose what got played this time, so instead of her treasured Manowar, she was listening to the soft notes of the sharp Digital Daggers. Not that she didn't like them - as long as she could concentrate, all was fine with her. Her concentration currently had some trouble revealing a hidden solution to the gibberish that was displayed on her screen and that her eyes were captivated by. She had written it herself, and wasn't exceptionally happy with the result.

With a wisdom that had taken her a while to acquire, she leaned back. Straining herself wouldn't help, that she knew well. She stood up, stretched her tired back, and went to the kitchen. Despite what people often thought when seeing her going around with her shaggy clothes and haircut, she loved plants. Every window had at least one vase or can or anything that could hold water sitting in front of it, with plants ranging from bean sprouts to peace lilies to even a cactus that she picked up one winter out of fear it might freeze to death. Leaning herself on the window frame, she enjoyed the sun that came through and gazed on her little assortment of plants in front of it. Besides computers and books, she cared a lot for them.

Oh, and for another thing.

The circle plate in the middle of the iron apartment door turned, gliding the locking bar together and unlocking the door. With a bit of effort, the woman behind it managed to pull it open, bringing in the two bags of supplies she had brought. Trin took them from her and carried them in the kitchen while she was busy closing the door behind her.

"Oh, you brought asperges?"

"You said you liked them?"

With a smile, Trin started putting the food in their fridge. She hadn't been very concerned with eating habits until Eva came, and she could definitely tell her health improved altogether once the food got better.

"I think about boiling them with some potatoes on the side. It would probably be hard to boil them on a grill, but you have nice pots . . ."

While Trin enjoyed the voice, she wasn't precisely listening, so she didn't notice when Eva stopped talking and went over to Trin's computer. Just like Trin, she glanced at the screen for a while, and then started typing. She was still on it when Trin put the empty bags aside and went over to her side.

"What are you . . . doing?"

She stared while Eva finished typing and then proudly put her hands on her hips. "You have never been good with binary trees, were you?" Eva pouted, commenting on the somewhat recursive structure that Trin indeed never managed to use properly. The nerdier of them scratched her head. "I'm more impressed that you are . . ."

"I've practiced. Anyway, now that you're done . . ." She swung her arms around Trin, who lost her balance and started falling, and with Eva's help, the two ended up in the narrow hammock. " . . . we can cuddle, right?"

Trin was red again. "You little rat, abusing my computer like that!" She started tickling Eva, who twisted around in laughter. For yet another time, Trin convinced herself that she couldn't be mad at her auburn roommate for long, even if she tried.

They cuddled for a while. After moving in with her, Eva had had much trouble with panic attacks, and the closeness the hammock created helped her. Eventually, she just decided she liked to be packed close with Trin, and thus they didn't have to buy a proper bed, continuing to sleep in the somewhat overcrowded hammock that Trin had creatively hung on the thin walls with the help of Ping and a few thick logs. Surprisingly, it managed to hold the weight of the two women, in addition to the occasional swings and pulls that occurred whenever Eva played around in it or got tickled. All in all, it was a design worthy of respect that Ping had come up with.

Out of nowhere, Eva squeezed her roommate tighter. "Um . . . Trin?" The hacker patted her head. "What is it, sweetie?"

The auburn girl turned her face, rubbing it against Trin's chest and hiding in from her. "Have you ever . . . you know . . . wanted to . . . "

Her voice, quiet since she began speaking, shrank to a whisper. "Hey, I can't hear you when you speak like that. You can tell me anything, I won't mind."

Eva took a deep breath and started again.

"Do you want to adopt a child?"

~~~

A long silence followed. It was the kind of uncomfortable silence that you could feel sticking to you and choking you. Eva had feared it for a while.

"You know, I've . . . been thinking . . . because you know, I always thought that once I earned enough money to live properly, I'd find a boyfriend and have a family and the such, and . . . well, you aren't a guy, but I won't mind founding a family with you . . . and um . . . you know, I was thinking that, well, since there's no guy, we can't get pregnant, so we could, you know, adopt a kid, since there are many that need a family either way, and we don't necessarily need a child to be, like, biologically ours . . . "

She was interrupted by her friend's hand that she raised to her face. Scared, Eva looked up at her, to see that she was trying to wash away her tears. Still scared, she tried to continue, with even more confusion in her voice.

"I uh . . . I . . . I'm sorry if I brought up something bad . . . it's just that . . . you know, we've been living together for two years now, and I thought we could, like . . . "

Trin put her hand on her partner's shoulder, and she stopped talking. Despite crying, she managed to smile.

"It- it's okay. Sorry."

Eva hugged her girlfriend tightly again. "Don't be sorry, Trin, you did nothing wrong. I . . . kinda thought you've had trouble with your family, so I should have worded it differently-"

"No, Eva. It- it's okay. Really. I've . . . well yeah, they abandoned me when I was very little so I never knew them, but I don't regret it. After all, I got to be with you . . ."

Eva giggled. They were having a nice time indeed. Sure, most of it was spent working on computers and Eva had to use a raspie for a long time before Trin bought her a laptop - a slim white thing with hearts on the cover -, but most of all, they were together.

"So, my little romantic. Wanna go visit my old place tomorrow?"

"To- tomorrow?!"

"Why not? It's a Thursday, we have time, and if I heard right, you've wanted to do it for a while, right?"

Eva buried her head in her partner's chest. When she looked up at her again, she was red with smiling, and Trin went blushing as well.

"We are gonna need a bigger apartment."

"And a bed."

"Right, a hammock is a bad idea . . ." Trin commented through a yawn. As the two drifted asleep and had sweet dreams of each other, the computer kept gently lulling in the back.

" " "

When the moon is in the seventh hour, and Jupiter aligns with Mars, then peace will guide the planets, and love will stir the stars . . .

This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius, the age of Aquarius . . .

" " "

#writers of tumblr #dystopia #gay #hacker #surprise i finally finished something #i care a lot for this story #ave #net neutrality

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