Chapter Text
She was breathing heavily, sweat making her shirt cling to her skin as she twisted. Legs spread, able to feel and truly savor the physicality rushing through her in a way she otherwise never could. Her lips parted, smile breaking through despite herself. Before she brought the pipe down a final time, hitting low on the prone strangers spine and provoking a loud, gruesome CRACK that only invigorated her more. The body stilled. Her gloved grip loosened, letting the pipe drop with a bouncing series of clangs as she took a step back.
Some resellers for a meaningless portable that was all the rage. Expensive, but worthless. Maybe it was stolen, which could be useful to bolster whatever type of motive was assigned here. A truck full of them that would almost certainly disappear before the bodies were reported. A mess that cleaned itself up. She was preparing to start the usual ritual, the cleaning, the perfection, taking in the red splattered across the trucks front flowing into the paint stroke against the concrete wall. Beautiful work. A trip well worth how out of her way it had been.
But then there was an imperfection- a twitch in the first body, the one with blood already beginning to pool- and the exhilaration was snuffed out in a heartbeat. Some out-of-date Modded organ or cocktail of drugs keeping its adrenaline high enough to get back up (barely)? Whatever it was, it was disgusting. And would quickly be rectified. The pipe had already dripped blood where it lay, so she considered that tool used up. Paint drying on canvas.
She looked around as the groans grow in volume, the corpse-to-be slowly pulling itself up. It's unnecessary. She knows this space better than her own apartment right now. An idea occurs- and is acted upon. The cracked portable, freshly removed from its packaging and just as freshly dropped next to a tire is picked up in a single smooth motion before her hand grasps the long hair, already sticky with blood. It let out a cry of pain- hands reaching back, desperately grabbing at her as she gave one brutal yank, forcing the kneeling figure to bend back to look at her. Eyes unfocused, scrabbling hands getting caught on her top, tugging and scratching uselessly- but the sensation is unpleasant. She stares down, doing some mental measurements, lifting the new model of portable (Better battery life! Thin enough to fit in a bodikon dress pocket! And strong enough to survive a truck rolling over it!) and fitting it into their mouth. The broken jaw helped.
It's a few focused beats of pressing with all her weight down, the scratching hands becoming more annoying as she feels those contracted, desperate throat muscles start to give, able to see blood welling as those sharp, metallic corners carve their way out and dig into the platysma. The attempts to push her off stop completely - its arms drop. She lets go immediately after, leaving it kneeling there, head looking up at the empty high rises. She pats a disgusted hand over her chest, Morgan looking down at her completed work. She'd turned it around at the end, dug up treasure while planning for salvage.
She huffs, checking under the nails for threads or skin and deciding it'd be worthwhile to just carve up the hands as punishment for ruining a perfectly good shirt, taking an extra few moments to grimace at the corpse that had touched her.
"I don't even let my girlfriend do that. What made you think you had the privilege?"
Morgan arrived home not much later, gloves and shirt exhanged for unmarred ones. She was greeted at the door by Serra- who wasted no time holding out a hand, fingers spread. Morgan maintained her indifferent expression as she lifted her own hand, pressing her gloved palm into Serra's- letting the girl give it a gentle squeeze. The closest thing to an intimate hug Morgan would allow in less than extreme circumstances. Serra had no complaints, but held the hand for a few more long moments- sniffing at the air, as unobtrusively as she could manage.
Looking for the telltale stink of a different brand of cigarettes, Morgan had inferred a few weeks back. Quite the untrusting lover she'd found herself involved with. It was almost cute. Her own brand muted the last remnants of the heavy scent of iron.
"Welcome home, Adonai."
She'd begun stressing the syllables differently recently- more melodic and gentler consonants than Serra had begun with.
"I'm home, Serra."
"..."
Ignoring Serra's soft smile, Morgan slipped her hand from the grasp of the girl, stepping past her into the apartment. Sera's blanket still lay in a wrinkled heap on the couch, but her other nicknacks had been moved up to the bedside table in Morgan's room.
It was... odd. Morgan was willing to admit that much. Her bed had become their bed. Serra remained on her side of it unless she'd rolled closer to talk or when they were having sex. But it was a change in the organization of her life and habits. Shifting in bed upon waking now meant the sight of Serra's sleeping, comfortable figure, slight chest evenly rising and falling. The dim glow of her barcode actually made it more convenient when grabbing for her phone in the early hours of morning.
But it was odd. Serra and her would work different hours, but there was enough overlap she was often falling asleep beside her or waking up to her presence. And every week both of their schedules stayed clear for a film, without a single missed day so far. Last weeks had been a classic year 2000 superhero flick (that was when those films got big, right?)- and had been entertaining enough, although its thesis had been particularly funny to Morgan.
There was no equal-and-opposite good to her 'evil'. Just the House, giving her a seat at the table. Then again- perhaps she was too small to figure into whatever the universes mysterious plans were. It was an appealing thought- carte blanche through the weltgeists own underpaid bureaucracy (Serra had been spending too much time with Makoto. Morgan was tired of thinking about Hegel). A rounding error.
Morgan sat at her desk and slipped her gloves off, soreness from her earlier exercise becoming impossible to ignore. Not to mention the steady, soft pains from her encounter with the Witch last month. Serra hadn't let her injuries go untreated for long, and the scarring had faded better than it usually did- but the pain had sunk in regardless. It had been easier to ignore while she was doing more important things, but now at her desk and preparing to relax and bask in the afterglow of the feeling it had returned.
Cost of doing business, unfortunately.
She closed her eyes, wondering if now was the right time for a short nap- Serra would leave her alone if she slept and would occupy herself with videos, and she'd handled her current clients paperwork before heading out. Leaning back in the chair, Morgan prepared to drift off for a few minutes-
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
-but her eyebrows knit together at the annoying sound at her door.
She cracked an eyelid, returning Serra's expression of mild surprise. A careless gesture sent her partner to open the door, leaning her head back once more. She wouldn't get a chance for a nap regardless if it was some delivery Serra had ordered- this was just an effort to gain at least a few more moments of peace.
"Oh!! Prosecutor Rockford...!"
Morgan's eyes snapped back open.
"Just Emma is fine, Ms. Ashur."
"Um- Just Serra is fine, then."
She stood from her desk, picture of put-together composure, slipping her gloves back on as she moved across the apartment.
"What's the occasion, Emma?"
Emma, in contrast to Morgan's immediate composure... looked rather worn. Even by her standards.
"Mmm... I was given the address for your place by Reyes-"
Damn Sunshine.
"-although I suppose I could have just looked at one of your business cards any time."
... Fair enough.
She cleared her throat, adjusting her glasses a bit and looking over the pair.
"I was... pushed out of the office and told to take it easy, since it'd been some time since I've slept or... taken any sort of break."
"Would you like to borrow a couch or...?"
"Oh, no- thank you, though. It's hard enough to get to sleep on my own bed."
Emma gave a little laugh, scratching at her soft cheek awkwardly.
"Um- Reyes said when she got off she would camp outside my place to make sure I didn't access any files I have there either. And if she had to keep an eye on me in the apartment itself, I'd just be even more worried about her knocking some of my figures over. So would I be able impose upon you two...? Hopefully just for a few hours."
Yawning gently, she looked between the two sharing a glance of their own- Serra giving a little shrug that Morgan returned after a pregnant beat.
"... I don't see why not. Come in. Can I get you anything...?"
An imposition, but as Morgan invited her in, she found her eyes locked onto Emma as she swayed over the boundary into the apartment, stepping aside to let her make herself at home. Gaze following her all the while. It seems her little 'lockout' had occurred before any details of her excursion had broken. The timeline would be a bit vague- she'd made absolute sure of that fact. Which might make this a near-perfect alibi.
She didn't need one, of course: no evidence could have possibly linked her little walk to that gruesome, brutal, etc. tragedy. But it was better to keep Emma close, just in case. She blinked at a sudden bump against her side- glancing down to see Serra, pouting up at her.
"Spearmint...?"
She looked up at Morgan with a certain expression that seemed out of place for her roommate, frowning up at her and murmuring a request.
"Stop looking at her like that. I'm right here."
"Like...oh!"
Morgan almost laughed out loud. Emma had sat down by the counter, and was looking at them curiously. Morgan patted Serra's head, giving her jealous little robot a smile before heading over to the other side of her counter, standing straight in her kitchen against Emma's slumped, sleepy posture in the stool.
"So, have you, um, always liked Adds?"
Morgan freezes in the middle of pulling a trio of glasses out, the sensation of being a deer in headlights grasping her for only a moment before she continues her motion, setting two glasses down. Emma had good eyes- something in their behavior and Serra's whispers must have connected the dots for her. No use denying it.
"Her name is Serra, as you know, and I'd like you to refer to my partner a bit more politely than that."
Morgan's tone became a bit more flat, in a way she figured fit for defending a lovers personhood. Emma merely blinked.
"Oh- I meant, um, you checked with her before letting me come in. I thought it was polite of you. I see. My apologies... and... congrats?"
...Damn it. Complete misread. She could practically hear the plastic jangle of chips clattering to the floor from that misplay.
She cleared her throat, gesturing to her alcohol collection and receiving a shake of the head- instead pouring water for the three of them. Serra takes the opportunity to lift hers from the table, eyes looking over the disheveled prosecutor in front of her. Emma looked back, blinking lazily.
"Hello, Serra. Is Morgan feeding you well? Keeping her...electric... bill... paid...?"
Serra blinked, looking around the apartment, lights clearly on.
"Um, yes... she bakes something for me to eat at least a few times a week."
Emma had an awkward, apologetic expression on her face as she glanced at Morgan.
"That's... good. Sorry, I've never been good with k... people younger than me."
Serra's cheeks puffed out, but instead of responding she turned away and padded down to her couch, curling up amid her blanket.
Morgan had an eyebrow raised as Emma shared another look with her.
"Electric bill?"
"I'm tired, alright? And I haven't really talked with an... Add, like that before."
The hesitance made Emma's understanding of Serra's situation obvious. It was probably just for Morgan's sake she laid her cards on the table. But she had gotten a bit more unsteady talking directly with Serra- because of her being AI? Or was she truly bad with...
"So you bake?"
Morgan blinked as her train of thought was interrupted, gesturing around the kitchen.
"Sometimes. Any requests?"
"Oh. Not off the top of my head. You could bring something into the office sometime if you'd like, though. Anything with sugar is good for a late night."
Morgan's eyes narrowed. Not even a favorite sweet? Did she think Morgan wasn't up to the task? She was almost tempted to bring a croquembouche next week out of spite to show Emma the opportunity missed. But since she was still coasting on the pure satisfaction or her earlier work, she responded with a small, innocent smile.
"If I have time."
"Mmm. Busy?"
Morgan shrugged, switching to her worn coworker mask, leaning over to speak to Emma at eye level.
"Some days more than others. You, though- I think you're more wiped than I've ever seen you."
"I was going to head home, but a case caught my eye. Some bodies found with a couple people stealing things from their truck."
"Oh?" Her heart stilled, Morgan's mask holding firm as she made a gentle, concerned expression.
"Seemed like some scalper deal gone bad, but the thieves were saying they just found the people dead and decided to steal some things and run for it."
"And you'd thought it could be Heartbreak?" She asked, innocently.
"For a moment."
"Oh?" She questioned, curiously.
"Something felt off. Seemed a bit... tryhard. Not quite a copycat but mostly... shallow, the same way those are."
"Oh." She said, flatly.
"Maybe I do need sleep..." Emma yawned. "Ugh, I hope Reyes decides I'm 'played out' and lets me go home soon. I really do feel sorry about dropping in like this."
"It's alright." She stated, kindly. "I'll kick Serra off the couch if you do need to rest your eyes. Or at least need to try."
"Mm. Thanks again. Does she sleep there?" Emma turned her gaze away from Serra, seemingly enjoying a film on her own to distract herself- some black and white mess.
"Used to." Morgan felt the cold, complete fury at her work being questioned and doubted slowly subside, letting her mask slip away, replaced with Morgan once more. Heartbreak was dead and gone. Her work slipping past Emma's gaze could only be a positive.
"Hm." Emma seemed to pause for a moment, eyes focusing on Morgan through those heavy glasses before asking a question she'd clearly been turning over in her head for some time now.
"So, you don't think she's a kid?"
"No. She's childish and sheltered, but it's different. Makoto reminded me how exhausting children really are."
"Hmmm. I see." Emma kept a flat mask of her own, turning to look to Serra once more. Morgan paused for a beat before continuing.
"She... reminds me of someone I knew in college. With a bit more innocence and a kinder upbringing. But I do feel a degree of attachment."
"... Should you only feel a 'degree' of attachment to your 'girlfriend'?"
"Early days. We're still figuring things out."
"Good luck. Relationship troubles I understand."
"Oh?" Morgan tilted her head. This might have been the most personal anecdote she'd heard Emma let slip.
"Long-distance. Something."
"A... situationship?"
"Mm." Emma seemed to slump a bit in the chair, hands pressed into her cheeks.
"Good luck." Morgan's gaze drifted to the television, frowning slightly. Shaking her head, she looks back at Emma, tone jovial and a warm smile plastered as she asked.
"Would you have gotten me arrested if I'd said I saw her as a child?"
Emma looked up, a curious look on her face.
"Huh? No. Legally, you can do whatever you'd like with her. In fact..." Her expression grew a bit more solemn. "I do believe the State prefers Adds fulfilling that sort of role. A victimless crime." Her eyes drift back to Serra, happily watching- Morgan frowns, staring intently at the screen as she replied.
"Ah. Not pleasant."
"Mm." Emma shrugged. "I'm not worried. About her, at least. You've pretty much indisputably shown you've got her best interests in mind already."
"Hm?" Morgan blinked. "Oh, right."
Emma chuckled at her bafflement. "Or what, still plan to sell her for parts or whatever your excuse in court was?"
Morgan remained quiet, staring at the back of that bright green mess of hair, bobbing gently as Serra laughed at a slapstick situation in the film. "...No, I don't."
She straightened out, leaving Emma and crossing the room as she slipped onto the couch next to Serra, crossing her legs.
"Spearmint, didn't we just watch this one? I thought I recognized it-"
"No, Adonai, we watched the one where they meet Frankenstein!"
"But the Invisible Man was there. He's here too."
"It was a sequel hook! The ended the first film on another monster as a gag, as a way of gesturing towards a cinematic universe."
"Huh." Morgan stared up at the screen, starting a bit as Emma slipped onto the couch, giving her and Serra some space, but adjusting her glasses and joining the impromptu movie night.
"Oh, she's gorgeous."
Serra turns to Emma excitedly. "Isn't she!? Unfortunately, despite getting an almost decade-long contract, she wasn't really in that many films..."
Morgan leaned back, letting the two discuss the film over her, taking a slow, steadying breath. A little smile played at the corner of her lips, comfortable and contented. For now, at least. She ought to just relax and enjoy the film.
Serra walked down the street, escorting Emma Rockford the final stretch home. It had been a request from Adonai, and she intended to see it through without fail.
("Can't sleep anywhere but her own bed my ass- Serra, can you make sure she doesn't conk out like this again before she makes it home?")
The snoring had been a bit loud, especially during the climax of the movie- it nearly drowned out the fixed boxing match, frustrating Serra enough she started glaring daggers at the prosecutor (after making sure she was asleep). But Adonai had handled it with aplomb, calling Reyes and giving quite a few pointed words that had ended with her, all smiles, escorting a sleepy Emma out the door.
"Serra?"
"Mm?" Serra started, turning to see Emma rubbing her eyes and squinting from the brightness. They were walking through a very nice part of the city, the gleaming, looming buildings making her feel very small.
Despite her annoyances at Emma's earlier insinuation she was childish, she'd ended up (mostly) forgiving her as they'd talked about the movie together. Adonai had seemed content to quietly enjoy it, but with fewer snide comments. It made Serra realize all over again how much her mannerisms changed in front of others.
"Do you like being a paralegal?"
"Oh, very much! I've gotten to meet Yumi, and Makoto, and Sosuke...! And it feels like... I'm helping Adonai help people, and learning more about how I want to help people. I... I miss Father, but... it's nice being out in the world. Even if things are harder, or more complicated. And Adonai... is always trying to protect me, without hiding me away from everything."
She can't stop a soft smile from forming, looking at Emma curiously and catching sight of a complex expression behind her glasses for a moment.
"Well, that's good! If you're ever looking for more experiences, let me know if you want to see how the other side lives! I could use a paralegal, too, you know!"
Emma ruined the bright tone with a loud, long yawn, but Serra smiled regardless.
"Thank you! Perhaps when my part-time job is less... well, when I've learned my work a bit better, I can stop by to say hi!"
Emma chuckled, stopping suddenly and forcing Serra to stumble and twist around to an awkward stop in front of a... truly massive, opulent building. Wow.
"Well- this is my stop. Thank you for escorting me home, Serra, you're a model gentleman."
Serra smirked, hands planted firmly on her hips from the praise.
"Never fear- no foe could have stopped me from carrying out Adonai's command! Invisible or not!"
Emma smiled softly, giving a little wave to Reyes, sitting in the lobby with some magazine, who threw up some crass hand sign in response. Probably unhappy with the words Adonai had given her. Serra gave an energetic wave and received an awkward expression in return.
"Mm, the very picture of the king of knights. Don't let her walk over you too bad. And she should know synthetic skin doesn't heal back perfectly." She winked, tapping her own lower lip and moving to head into the building.
Serra felt a flush rising up to her cheeks, stumbling over a parting barb of her own. "Y-yeah, well, call ahead next time! So you don't see us holding hands or... kissing.." She grew more embarrassed for a moment before huffing once more. "I-if you'd been even a bit earlier, I might not have let you in at all if Adonai wasn't home!"
This made Emma pause for a moment, shaking her head and heading into the extremely expensive-looking building without another word. Serra huffed even louder, arms crossed. Had she always been so frustrating!? Well- forget her! She turned on the spot, stomping down the street and heading back to her- their apartment. Wondering if Adonai would share some of her thoughts on the movie tonight in bed. And, despite her slight annoyance, Serra found a soft smile breaking through.
