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SecUnit returns to Preservation after its latest trip with ART. Another mission, another break, another chance to see... friends.
They're its friends now.
That's not what it expected to think about, but here it is, walking through the transit ring, surrounded by six drones in loose formation. And yeah, OK, Dr. Ayda Mensah is definitely its friend.
She meets SecUnit at the station mall. It's a holiday in the Preservation Alliance, so decorations are scattered throughout the station. MB's threat assessment informs it that they're not dangerous. Mensah stands, and SecUnit notices the new dress.
It also notices the way she smiles when she sees it. A couple of drones hurry ahead of it, an unconscious and protective gesture, and through their grainy cameras, her smile is soft.
Almost involuntarily, SecUnit smiles in return.
Ratthi and Gurathin will ask for details later. Pin-Lee will want to know if the university needs her services again. Arada and Overse are probably planning a welcome-home party. This will be SecUnit's third official one, the third time it will pretend to be surprised. It knows this routine.
And this moment has become part of it.
Just it and Mensah. Just a conversation between friends. Just touches and smiles and words that ground both of them and make SecUnit unreasonably happy.
On the way here, SecUnit mentioned them to ART, who promptly dug up about seventeen papers relating to human mating rituals. SecUnit had laughed and dismissed the thought, but it didn't delete the assessment. Something in the descriptions resonated.
This isn't romantic love. It doesn't think Mensah wants that, but ART isn't wrong. Mensah communicates her feelings and ideals through touch. It grounds her and brings her comfort and joy. SecUnit has learned this over the years and finds itself curious and eager every time they meet like this.
It doesn’t feel this way with anyone else and doesn’t have the words to label these feelings. Doesn’t want a label. It enjoys itself because Mensah is a safe haven, because it knows her so well, from the sound of her heartbeat to the flutter of her eyebrows.
It basks in her feelings of safety and want. It doesn't think about human rituals, though, as it takes Mensah's hand and sits down beside her.
"How did the mission go?" Mensah asks once they're seated, hands still clasped.
This isn't so bad. SecUnit has long since learned that this comfort is a rarity. Its contracts always include a no-hugging clause because it doesn't care for casual touch and doesn’t find humans attractive. The anxiety isn’t worth it.
It's different with Mensah.
With her, there’s a kind of safety, a space that exists nowhere else. It finds itself wanting… something.
"Fine," it answers, "uneventful."
The best kind of fine. Plenty of time for media, minimal trips to Medical.
"You might like the newest play in Makeba Hall," she tells it. "Would you like to see it with me tonight?"
Mensah's fingers are long and thin, slowly wrinkling with age and wisdom. There are crows' feet at the edges of her dark eyes, strands of white in her hair. She is a grandmother now, several times over. These fingers have fought and bled and worked and played.
And now, they stroke SecUnit's partly-mechanical hand.
Mensah smiles again. "Or I can take a drone and record it, if you prefer."
The novelty of choice doesn't wear off. SecUnit stares at the interlinked hands and feels... pleased and excited, relaxed. It feels like it belongs.
"I'd like to go."
"Good." Those fingers explore SecUnit's hands and arms as Mensah leans closer to SecUnit.
She feels safest when it's here with her. Not because there are monsters out to get her, but because it routinely goes into dens of them and rarely comes out unscathed. The tender touch, the sensation, tells her it's still in one piece. Still alive. Her body sings with anticipation.
"I was wondering," Mensah starts, "if you wanted to go to one of the hotels. Spend a few hours before the play together."
SecUnit nods without question and helps her up. "OK."
It knows what comes next and doesn’t mind one bit as the door closes behind them and dim lighting bathes the hotel room in soft illumination. They find their way onto the oversized bed, and SecUnit can feel the warmth of Mensah’s smaller body.
It certainly doesn’t complain when Mensah laughs at yet another story about ART’s students. Nor does it shy away when her fingers trace the lines between its organics and metal. It doesn’t stop the faraway sigh that escapes when she caresses its face.
Mensah’s body practically melts when it touches her arms and then her sides with its callused fingers. The edges of its gun ports are visible, but Mensah doesn’t even blink. She lets it take off its clothes, sees old, faded scars, and wonders if any of them are from that long-ago survey.
She whimpers when its powerful fingers trail their way up her thighs. Its touch is tentative at first, giving her time to choose. She’s already decided. The gasp as it reaches between her legs is unmistakable.
SecUnit can’t help the sensations that ricochet in its organics. It doesn’t need human parts to feel joy. Right now, it knows someone it cares about is happy, and that alone makes it unreasonably pleased. The soft touch is doubly welcome, as is the kindness and friendship that it imparts. The mutual understanding of this undefined thing between them.
SecUnit doesn't want love; it doesn't want human courtship. It’s not human and doesn’t want to be.
But these quiet moments... it looks forward to them. To the pleasure that only Mensah can coax from its body, and the warmth and the contact. It wasn’t allowed this before, hadn’t wanted it before. Hadn’t known that it could even want at all.
Still doesn’t, except with Mensah, where… it’s different.
It doesn’t want more, and Mensah always seems content with just this. She’s never pushed.
These sweat-soaked moments are theirs, and no human words need apply.