WARNING!: This story contains sexual situations between two women. If this
offends you or you are
under age then read no further. You have been warned!

Bubblegum Crisis and its characters belong to Youmex, Inc. and AnimEigo, Inc.

Special thanks to Kahm and Nightraven, for reading, editing and putting up
with me.


Passages

Chapter  2:   Crossing A Heart
----------------------------------------
By She-Hulk (brobinso@neocomm.net)
	


	It was a sound that first started to pull her out of the darkness. Priss
felt herself floating up
through the layers of consciousness and listened to the sound as it
continued. Annoyance was her first
reaction. The sound was high-pitched and rhythmic, irritatingly close.
Gradually she heard other sounds
and she focused on those. Low voices nearby, but she couldn’t understand
what they were saying. She
heard the rustle of fabric as someone moved past. Priss realized then that
she was cold. Quickly on the
heels of that thought came another; her arm was colder than the rest of
her. Why was her arm so cold?
The smell of sheets caught her attention and she realized that she was in a
bed.
 
	Priss opened her eyes at that, then wished she hadn’t. White. All she
could see at first was the
color white. Her eyes began to adjust and she stared at the face bending
over hers. It peered down at her
and turned to away to speak. This time Priss understood the voice.

	“She’s coming around. She might be a little disoriented at first, but it
should pass quickly.”

	“I understand.” That was Silia! Priss turned her head towards her and
blinked as the room spun.
The spinning stopped and Silia swam into view. She stood beside the bed and
smiled down at her. Uh oh.
Silia was smiling, something had gone wrong. 

	Two more faces popped into her sight and she grew even more concerned.
Nene grinned at her
and waved, but her eyes were strange. Linna was looking pensive and Priss
knew that the shit had really
hit the fan. The pieces of the puzzle snapped into place.

	 “I’m in a hospital.” It was a statement, not a question, but Silia
answered it anyway. “Yes. It’s a
private hospital, owned by me through one of my other companies.” As
interesting as that was, Priss was
more concerned with ‘why’ she was in a hospital. She felt no pain, but then
that’s what drugs were for.

	“What happened?” Priss watched Linna glance at Nene, then Nene glanced at
Silia. Silia didn’t
answer immediately and Priss ‘really’ began to worry. 

	“What do you remember?” Priss thought about it. She remembered parking her
bike at the office
and then later climbing into the plane behind Nene. Images came faster. The
boomer. Silia falling to the
ground. The feel of the boomer’s grip as it tightened around her throat.
She remembered reaching for a
grenade.
 
	Priss went as white as the sheets she was laying against. Terror flashed
over her features and she
looked down at herself. She lifted her right arm and saw the IV secured to
the back of her hand. That
explained the cold, she thought absently. Priss pushed the covers down to
her waist, watching her hand
complete the motion. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the white
bandages that spread across the
left side of her body. She moved her left arm and froze when it didn’t come
into view. Nene was crying
and Priss made herself face the unknown. She turned her head and every
thought fled from her. A knot
lodged in her throat and she made no sound as her mouth worked. 

	The white bandages covered her side and came up over her left breast, but
it was where the
bandages ended that caused the huge wave of horror, grief and fear to
engulf her. The white material
stretched up over her shoulder and she could feel it wrap around her back.
Priss looked at her friends and
begged them with her eyes to tell her that this was a mistake, that this
wasn’t real. Linna had her arm
around Nene who was watching her with such a look of pity that she wanted
to scream at her that it
wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

	Linna tried to smile reassuringly, but Priss knew better. She sought the
one person who would
tell her the truth. Silia met her wild eyes calmly and spoke the same way.
“There was nothing that could
be done.” Priss flinched and clenched her teeth against a the storm of
tears that threatened. “The grenade
destroyed the boomer, but the hard suit couldn’t withstand the blast. Your
shoulder and arm were lost.
Your left breast was severely injured, but the surgery to repair it has
already been done. It should heal
completely.” 

	Silia paused, then revealed the rest. “A synthetic collar bone and
cybernetic shoulder joint have
been installed to replace the old ones. Neural implants have been centered
within your brain to allow for
maximum performance and control.” Silia ignored Linna’s gasp at her
terminology and watched Priss
carefully as she began to shake. “A cybernetic arm is being constructed for
you. It should be ready
tomorrow and can be installed then.” 

	“You let them do this?” Priss’ voice was low and incredulous. She had made
Silia promise her
that  she would never receive cybernetic implants of any kind, regardless
of how badly she may be hurt.
Priss had trusted Silia to keep that promise.

	Silia straightened and lifted her chin slightly. She would face the
consequences of her decision
head on and pray that Priss would forgive her one day.

	“I instructed the doctors to perform the operation.” Silia watched Priss
close in on herself. “I was
there during the surgery, to insure proper installation of the components.”
The words fell on Priss like
hammer blows and she struggled to deal with the images they invoked. Linna
and Nene stood frozen,
bewildered and confused by the incredible tension between their friends.
They knew nothing of the
promise.

	“Get out.”

	Silia nodded in acceptance and turned to leave. An ache began somewhere
deep inside her, it
blossomed into the cold chill of pain as she realized that no matter what
her reasoning she had hurt Priss
in the most horrible way possible. Determination shoved her doubts aside
and she continued to walk the
path that she had chosen. She spoke over her shoulder, taking another step
on that lonely road. “I’ll be
back with the arm when it’s ready.”

	“Don’t bother.” Priss’ tone was surly, but the underlying grief almost
undid Silia. She drew a
deep breath and faced Priss.

	“Don’t toss away an opportunity for revenge, Priss.” Silia forced herself
to smile in challenge.
“You’ll need two hands to kill me.” Having thrown down the gauntlet, she left.

	Nene glanced nervously at Linna, then smiled weakly at Priss. She ignored
them both and stared
blindly at the ceiling.




         + + + + +


	Light flared as the torch hit the welding compound. The dark glasses
reflected the image of the
red hot seam as the torch passed over it. Mackie watched Silia finish the
seam and set the next piece into
place. Not since their father had died had he seen her so upset. It wasn’t
obvious to someone who didn’t
know her, but the signs were there. She held herself stiffly, tension
outlining her body. The cold mask of
her face did little to hide the pain in her eyes if you knew what you were
looking for. She switched the
torch off and exchanged it for a circuit board without stopping. 

	Mackie cleared his throat. Silia jerked off her welding goggles with an
impatient gesture and her
eyes glared at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but you said you needed the power
cells?” He set them on the table
and cast an experienced eye over her work. A slight twinge of envy was
pushed away as he acknowledged
her mastery of cybernetics. He smiled at his older sister. “Great work. I
don’t know why you don’t do
more in this field.” 

	Silia shrugged and began to wire in the board. “Needs must.” She paused as
the full impact of
her comment struck her. Needs must. It was need that had driven her to
create the hard suits. Need to
topple Genom and need to avenge their father. Need caused her to recruit
the others, to use them as tools
in her battle. Silia dropped the screwdriver and buried her face in her hands.

	Mackie touch her arm in concern. “Sis?”

	Silia raised her head and met her father’s eyes. “Oh Lord, Mackie. What
have I done?” He
frowned in confusion as she started to pace the length of the lab. Her arms
were wrapped tightly around
herself and she shook her head in denial of her thoughts.

	“I thought I was doing this for Priss’ own good, that she would have to
accept this sooner or later
and it might as well be sooner. God! How could I have been so blind! I need
Priss on the team. Without
her I can never bring Genom down. If I had obeyed her wishes then she would
never be able to fight
again. But no, I have to have her so I played God. She could kill me now
and I think maybe I should let
her.” She turned to Mackie and he was there. He hugged her to him and began
to speak.

	“Maybe part of that’s true. However, your motives aren’t as selfish as you
think. You do need
Priss, but not just to defeat Genom.” Silia stiffened, his meaning clear.
“Think for a minute. If Priss
doesn’t accept this then what will she do? Her singing may not suffer, but
her singing is only a small part
of her. The other, larger part is what compels her to climb onto a
motorcycle and defy fate. She risks it all
in everything she does. Without the ability to do that, Priss will die. Do
you really believe that she wants
to give up her freedom? Priss made you promise about the implants, but she
didn’t understand what it
would mean. Or what it would cost you. She might as well have told you to
kill her.” 

	The sense of his comments was persuasive. She realized that he was
becoming more like their
father every day. He blushed when she told him this and offered to help
finish the arm. Silia touched the
cool metal and refused. “It’s......between me and Priss.”

	He left her to work. Silia picked up the screwdriver and finished securing
the circuit board. 



         + + + + +


	Priss was not happy. The dull ache from her shoulder wasn’t the problem.
That was something
she could stand. What she couldn’t deal with was Nene. She watched in
silence as her friend tried once
again to cheer her up.

	“Hey Priss? Do you want to play checkers?” She asked this in a singsong
voice and shook the box
in an inviting manner. Priss scowled at her in reply. Nene’s eager
expression crumpled and she sagged in
her chair. Priss felt like she’d just kicked a puppy. A twinge of guilt
caused her to shift uncomfortably and
Nene rushed in to adjust the pillows behind her. Priss bit her tongue and
allowed her to fuss. Nene sat
back down with a satisfied smile, which started to droop at Priss’
forbidding expression. 

	God, the things I do for my friends! Priss waved her hand at the game.
“Set it up.” Nene beamed
at her and happily began to set up the game. Priss forced herself not to
wince as she began to hum and
even managed a slight smile when she offered to let her go first.

	Linna noted the smile and the effort it took as she entered the room. “Try
not to pull a muscle
when you do that, Priss.” Nene was oblivious and studying the board with
the concentration of a chess
master. Priss moved a piece without really looking and watched Linna pull
items out of a large plastic
bag. Toothbrush. Hairbrush. Toothpaste. Deodorant. Nene moved again and
Priss distractedly countered.
A couple of changes of clothes came out of the bag and a half a dozen
paperback novels. Linna set the
books on the table beside the bed and watched Priss casually take three of
Nene’s pieces. Her distressed
moan filled the room and they didn’t notice Silia come in. At first.

	Priss glanced up and froze. Silia stood quietly in the doorway, watching.
She carried what looked
like a long instrument case.  Nene saw Priss’ expression and turned. “Hey
Silia!” She saw the black case
and got up quickly. “We’ll just give you two some space.” She grabbed
Linna’s hand and pulled her from
the room.

	“I told you not to bother.” Priss ignored Silia and began to stack the
plastic game pieces in
towers. Red, black. Red, black.

	Silia set the case on the foot of the bed and snapped open the latches.
Priss jerked at the sound,
but continued her task. Red, black. Red, black.

	Silia raised the lid and removed  the wrapped arm. Priss tried not to look
at the ominous bundle.
Red, black. Red, black.
	
	A hand swept across the board and sent the pieces and the table flying.
Priss started and swung
around to find Silia in her face.

	“Curse me, attack me, but don’t ignore me!” She gripped Priss’ face in her
hand and forced her
to look her in the eyes. “I’m not going away, Priss and your not strong
enough to stop me. Now we can do
this the hard way or the easy way, I don’t care which.” She saw the anger
flare in Priss, but it was gone
quickly as indifference returned. Silia cursed her silently. Anger she
could work with, but apathy.... Silia
wanted her to get angry, to care about what was happening. She watched
Priss retreat further into herself
and knew that it would not be today. 

	She let go of her face and slid an arm under Priss. She pushed her onto
her right side and began
to undue the ties of the hospital gown. Priss lay motionless, but Silia saw
her flinch when she pulled the
side of the gown away. Silia began to remove the bandages and Priss came to
life. “What are you doing?”

	“These can be removed now.” Silia tossed the cloth away and inspected the
implants. Priss’ fear
was tangible and Silia knew that she had not even tried to look beneath the
dressings. She focused on the
metal fibers where they entered the flesh. No sign of infection. She rose
and unwrapped the arm. She
turned back and found Priss staring at her in horror. Silia forced herself
to continue. She held the weapon
up and began to explain the mechanics. 

	Priss didn’t hear her beyond the part about how it attached to her body.
She hadn’t looked at the
shoulder joint, but she kept catching glimpses from the corner of her eye.
She began to shake as terror
drowned her. The fear would have overwhelmed her completely if Silia had
not chosen that moment to
demonstrate the energy saber. The blade hissed as it slid out and began to
hum. Priss watched the blade
glow and began to notice other things about what Silia was holding. It was
silver and she could see some
kind of black pattern along the surface. Silia retracted the blade, saw
that she had her attention, and
described the effect that the impact caps in the knuckles would have in a
fight. Despite herself Priss was
interested. Silia brought it closer and Priss watched silently as the claws
shot out. She turned the weapon
again and Priss stared at the design, identical to her ring. She met
Silia’s gaze and spoke, “Pretty toy,
Silia. Sure you don’t want to keep it for yourself?” Her voice was derisive.

	 Silia brought the arm down and placed it against the joint. Priss’ hand
came up to stop her and
Silia caught her wrist, pushing it down onto the bed. Silia met her
pleading look with one of
determination, ignoring the frantic pulse beneath her fingers. Priss tried
to jerk away, but Silia had
already slipped it into the socket. A metallic click and Priss felt the
tingle of energy. She felt the circuits
in her head activate and wanted to scream in protest, but it was to late.
The metal hand clenched into a fist
and Silia waited patiently to be struck down. 

	Priss didn’t attack. She felt the ripple of flesh along her arm and wept
because it was a lie. She
curled into a ball and cried, the cause of her anguish lying unused beside
her. Silia reached out to touch
her, but found herself drawing back. She had no right. Silia straightened
and turned to leave. Nene and
Linna were standing in the doorway.

	They had came back when they had heard the crash. They had stayed because
this was their
family. Nene was crying and Silia met her accusing stare calmly. Linna was
looking at her like she had
never seen her before. Silia reached for her mask and once again stepped
behind its facade. She brushed
past them, saying nothing and walked away with the sound of Priss’ grief
echoing through her.



         + + + + +

One month later...
 

	Silia adjusted the settings on the hard suit’s left elbow seal. The added
space would allow more
room for Priss’ cyber arm and still maintain the proper flexibility. She
began to adjust the seals around the
wrist and fingers. The spacer slipped and scratched a deep furrow across
her hand. She swore loudly and
hurled the hapless tool away. Blood flowed freely from the cut, but Silia
made no move to stop it.

	 It was no use. Silia knew that she was wasting her time with the suit.
Priss had not even begun
to accept the implants. Linna and Nene kept her up to date on her
condition, but there hadn’t been much
of a change. She had been released from the hospital and had gone straight
to her trailer, where she’d
stayed. No one could budge her and nothing could induce her to use her new
arm. Nene and Linna were
doing errands for her and generally making it unnecessary for her to adapt
to the situation. Silia had said
nothing when they’d told her about the ‘help’ they were giving Priss. They
would see the error of this
soon enough.

	They had kept in contact and had even gone out with her on the jobs that
had come up, but they
acted differently around her. Silia couldn’t blame them, really. She had
made a mistake and pushed Priss
before she was ready. Now they were all paying for it.

	<So do something about it.>

	(Go away.)

	<You can’t let Priss rot in that trailer.>

	(It was listening to you that got me into this mess in the first place.)

	<No. It was falling in love that got you into this mess. I just helped.>

	(Fuck off.)

	<Temper, temper. What would the team say if they could hear you? Oh that’s
right. They can’t
hear you because you pushed them away.>

	Silia didn’t respond. This tiny nagging part of her was right. She had
pushed the others away
when she should have been trying to pull them together. 

	(Okay, Know-it-all. What do I do now?)

	<Give Priss a reason to need that hand.>

	Silia looked at the motorcycle that was parked in the back of her lab.
Yes. It might work.



         + + + + +


	Priss sat on the couch and flipped through the channels of her TV. They
clicked past in quick
succession as they had the first ten times she’d done this. Part of her
protested this waste of time, but Priss
firmly shoved it down and continued to channel surf, never stopping, never
listening. Just wandering
aimlessly through the channels, her mind elsewhere. It was a little after
four and Priss had just gotten out
of bed. She knew she should get something to eat, but she didn’t seem to
care. The nightmare had found
her daytime hiding place. 

	Before it had come only in the night, catching her unaware and leaving her
defenseless. Since
she could no longer sleep during the night, she had retreated into the day.
She had been able to claim her
much need rest, but that was over now. She shifted restlessly and felt the
brush of metal against her leg.
She had gotten remarkably good at ignoring it and had not tried to move it
at all. It had become
something of a game. She went about the tasks she had set for her self each
day, cleaning the trailer,
fixing meals, folding laundry and washing dishes all with her human hand.
She was very pleased with her
mastery of folding sheets one-handed. 

	Priss was startled by the sound of a motorcycle in the distance. It was
coming closer. She listened
to the purr of the engine and suddenly longed to be out on the road. She
looked down at her nemesis and
scowled. To ride again she would have to use this thing. She wouldn’t admit
this to anyone but she was
afraid of this mass of metal. Priss knew that if she used this arm she
would lose a piece of herself. She
would no longer be human.

	The bike roared to a halt in front of her trailer and Priss went to the
window. It was the cat. She
watched Linna climb off and head for the door. Priss was already there.
“Why did you bring that here?”

	Linna studied her friend and realized that Silia had been right. Priss was
letting go. She took in
her haggard face and too bright eyes and was glad she’d agreed to help
Silia with her plan. Linna didn’t
like what had happened in the hospital, but Silia had apologized and tried
to explain what she been
hoping to accomplish. She wasn’t sure what had surprised her more, Silia
apologizing or the fact that she
admitted she’d made a mistake. Priss’ furious scowl drew her back to the
situation at hand.

	“Silia said to bring it here. It was in the way at the office.” Linna kept
her expression calm, her
voice even. “She said she didn’t care what you did with it, as long as it
was out of her way.” Priss stared at
the bike and Linna could of swore she saw a look of hurt cross her
features. Priss went back into the
trailer. Linna followed. The trailer was neat and clean and that in itself
was a very strong indicator of
Priss’ level of boredom. 

	“Take it away, I don’t care where. Just get it out of here.” Priss spoke
quickly, rushing to finish
before she stopped herself. “Give it someone, sell it, junk it, just get it
away from me.”

	Linna felt her patience slipping away. “So your just going to throw away
one of the biggest parts
of your life?”

	Priss whirled and faced her. “What life?! I can’t ride anymore! That’s
over!” She ran her hand
through her hair and Linna stared at it’s metal counterpart. Such a waste.

	 She had snooped around Silia’s lab one night and found the designs for
the arm. Silia had
poured every bit of her skill into that hunk of metal and Priss wouldn’t
even use it. She watched Priss
trying to destroy another part of herself and finally understood that she
and Nene had done her no favors
by pandering to her self pity. Silia had said nothing to them about what
they’d done and now she knew
why. Silia had sent Linna discover the truth for herself. Ashamed at her
mistake she turned on Priss.
	
	“Why don’t you try using what you have and stop whining about what you
don’t!” The edge in
Linna’s voice lit Priss’ anger.

	“Why don’t you mind your own God Damn business?” Priss sneered at her and
unleashed some
of her anger at this new target. “I don’t need you preaching at me. Why
don’t you go curl up with your
account books and mother the-”

	The sound of Linna’s slap echoed dully through the room. Priss felt the
pain in her face and
automatically raised her hand to return the blow. She halted the blow
suddenly, a breath away from
Linna’s face.

	Linna exhaled softly and watched the tangled swirl of emotions play across
Priss’ face. She
turned her head and let her hand cup her face. She was surprised by the
warmth. Linna had thought the
metal would be cold.

	Priss stiffened as the sensors in the metal hand began to send information
to the relay in her
head. The soft feel of Linna’s skin, seen through the microscopic sensors,
shook Priss like nothing else
had. She watched the metallic fingers move up and touch her hair and the
heightened sensations  flooded
her again. Horrified at herself for what she had almost done, the damage
she had almost caused, Priss
began to cry.

	Linna felt the fingers slide through her hair and watched Priss’ defenses
crumble. When Priss fell
to her knees, Linna was there with her. She held on while her friend’s life
shattered all over again and she
held on when she started to pick up the pieces.

	


         + + + + + 


	Priss raised her arm forced herself to look at it. She studied the fingers
and watched them curl at
her command, then straighten again. The wrist flexed and rotated, mimicking
the actions of her human
wrist. Priss extended the arm straight out in front of her and twisted it,
watching the light play across the
metal. The intricate design was pleasing, but Priss would rather have it on
her bike than on her. Which
brought her back to why she was doing this. It had been a week since the
incident with Linna. Priss let her
fingers tighten into a fist and bent her arm back, touching her shoulder.

	Linna had stayed with her that night and they had talked until dawn. Priss
had told her about the
nightmares and confessed her fears of losing her humanity. Linna had
listened, then calmly pointed out
that a boomer wouldn’t have stopped from hitting her. It would have struck
Linna down and thought
nothing of it.

	“Priss, this arm is nothing more than a tool. It’s like wrench or a
screwdriver. It isn’t you.” Linna
touched the metal fingers and felt them curl around hers. “Your heart
drives you and it was your heart that
caught yourself in time. But you do have to accept that you have this. What
you choose to do with it is up
to you.”

	Priss had said nothing and Linna continued. “If you let this piece of
metal stop you, control how
you live your life, then the boomers have won.” Priss’ head snapped up at
that and her scowl was fierce. 

	“If you don’t take back what you’ve lost and start living again, then you
might as well have been
killed that night. Because you’re dying now.” Encouraged by Priss’ reaction
she risked bringing the other
problem out in the open. “When we saw the explosion I thought you were
dead. I rolled you over and
knew that you couldn’t have lived through that. I froze. I remember saying
that you were dead and
hearing Silia yelling at me. “No! She’s not dead!” She knocked me out of
the way and knelt beside you.
She stayed with you from that point on, never leaving your side. She forced
her way into the operating
room and dared anyone to try and remove her.” She had dragged that
admission from a reluctant Silia.

	“Silia made a split second decision and went against your wishes. She knew
you’d be furious, but
she also knew that you would never be able to live your life the way you
needed to without help. I know
your angry, but just remember why she did what she did.”



	Priss let the arm straighten out again picked up the glass in front of
her. The sensors relayed the
composition and thickness of the material and thermal scanners registered
the temperature of it’s contents
at thirty-seven degrees fahrenheight. She knew that if she touched the
liquid inside, that the sensors would
analyze the chemical structure of the soda and she would know exactly what
it was made off. Priss drank
from the glass and decided that there was some things she didn’t want to know.

	 The last week had been full of learning and surprises. She had explored
her trailer with new
‘eyes’ and discovered things that had astounded her. The rough texture of
smooth wood. The itchy feeling
of the couch. She had spent an hour studying the microscopic structure of
an apple. After a detailed search
into the contents of a cigarette and it’s smoke, she’d thrown them away.
The amount of warning sensors it
had set off had been a shock. Priss knew that the sensors installed in her
cybernetic limb were not
standard. She could feel the slightest of breezes brush over it as if it
were covered with flesh and blood
instead of metal and fiber-optic cables. Silia had outdone herself. 

	Priss waited for the pain to come at the thought of her and wasn’t
surprised when it didn’t. She
was slowly coming to realize that Silia was not the monster she had
thought. She was also dying to get
back out on the road. To do that she needed to know exactly what this thing
was capable of.  So she had
forced herself to use it and learn. She set the glass back down and stood
up. It was time. She pulled out
her red leather jacket and tossed it on the bed. Her tall motorcycle boots
followed and she added a thin
black T-shirt.

	Priss reached for the box on the top shelf of her closet and removed the
new black leather pants.
Nene and Linna had given her this gift a few days ago after she’d told them
what she was planning. They
were stiff and needed to be broken in, but Priss loved them. The sensors
were working overtime as she
dressed and it was difficult not to get distracted by the rush of data. She
fastened the last hook on her
boots and picked up the black helmet. Priss ran her hand over the silver
inlay and listened to the scanners.
 
	There was some kind of circuit relay hidden under the lettering. She
probed deeper and
discovered the presence of a tracking device. It was like the one Priss had
discovered in her ring yesterday.
She shook her head at the thought of Silia’s subterfuge. Had she found this
last week she would have been
furious, but now she only wondered if Nene and Linna knew that they were
probably bugged. 

	She was beginning to understand Silia. 

	Priss locked the front door and walked over to stand beside the
motorcycle. Her silver hand
touched the gleaming metal and she had to force herself to pull away.  She
slipped the helmet on and
mounted, feeling the texture of the handle grip like she never had before.
The engine growled awake and
thrummed steadily. Priss took a deep breath and released the brake.


	

	Silia waited patiently. She had gotten rather good at waiting over the
years and she used this
ability now. The sun was warm, but she didn’t remove the helmet she wore.
Silia sat on her bike and
watched the street that led from Priss’ trailer. She had positioned herself
at the side of a parked truck,
where she hoped she’d be overlooked. 

	Linna had come to her over a week ago and told her what had happened that
night. Part of her
was elated that Priss had begun to heal, but she was also afraid that Priss
would not be able to forgive. She
had gone ahead and finished the modifications on Priss’ suit. It may be
wishful thinking on her part, but
she wanted to be ready, just in case.
	
	The motorcycle was a deep midnight blue and Silia had built every piece of
it herself. She had
never told Priss of their shared interest, not wanting to reveal this part
of herself. But now she wanted
this, possibly the last, meeting between them to be on equal ground. She
watched the street and wondered
if today would be the day that Priss broke out of her self-imposed prison.
Silia had waited here everyday
since she talked to Linna. The sound of another motorcycle had her leaning
forward in anticipation. Priss
shot around the corner and accelerated down the street. Silia cranked her
bike and sped off after her,
keeping well back.

	She watched Priss weave in and out of traffic and smiled at her obvious
pleasure. She moved like
she had been born on a motorcycle and Silia had to work hard to keep up.
<It’s been to long since I’ve
done this, I’m out of practice.> She swerved around a car and narrowly
avoided colliding with another.
Silia felt the remembered rush of adrenaline and laughed. She had forgotten.

	Priss wasn’t sure when she became aware of the other rider. When she had
first hit the road it
had taken all of her concentration to keep from wrecking. The data stream
from her hand was incredible.
The sensors had went wild as the wind had crashed over her and tried to
assimilate the huge influx of
information. Car exhaust and air content. Stray scent particles told of
food and sweat and animals,
combining with grease and oil and other airborne chemicals. Wind velocity,
temperature and pressure.
Microwaves, radio waves and a dozen different kinds of radiation. Priss has
thought that her head was
going to explode. She had fought to narrow the sensor field and had barely
succeeded. The flow gradually
slowed to a trickle and she could think again. 

	As she had settled down and began to enjoy the feeling of freedom again,
she caught a glimpse of
another motorcycle behind her, several cars back. She didn’t think about it
again until later, when she saw
it swerve wildly to avoid a car. The rider was bent down low over the dark
bike and wouldn’t move any
closer. Priss frowned at the other drivers actions. She turned off the
highway and wasn’t too surprised
when the motorcycle followed. She began to make rapid, quick turns through
the tangle of streets and had
soon lost her shadow. Priss laughed. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

	She had traveled several miles when the sensors in her arm began to detect
a radio impulse
directed at her. She raised her hand to the helmet and felt the circuit
relay responding to the signal. Priss
pulled off of the road and waited. A familiar bike appeared a few minutes
later.

	Silia  rounded the curve and saw Priss up ahead. She slowed down, but
continued to cruise
toward her. Priss hadn’t removed her helmet and Silia couldn’t see her face
through the tinted visor. She
brought the motorcycle to a halt in front of her and left her own helmet on.

	Priss studied the rider, taking in the dark blue leathers and the
incredible bike. She wondered
how long Silia had been planning this. The motorcycle was similar to an
older model, but extensive
alterations had been performed. She stared at the dark helmet and tried to
decide on a course of action.

	They sat there, unmoving. Cars raced past and so did time.

	Silia was waiting patiently again. Everything depended on Priss. She told
herself that she was
prepared for her rejection, but it was a lie. She hoped that she hadn’t
made another mistake. The sound of
Priss’ motorcycle coming to life caused her heart to jump. She felt
something cold clench inside her as
Priss circled around her and rode back to the edge of the road. Silia
stared the ground, unable to watch
Priss ride out of her life.

	Priss stared at the asphalt and wondered at her reluctance to sever this
tie. She couldn’t seem to
make herself go and leave Silia behind. She looked back over her metal
shoulder and saw the down bent
helmet. She revved the engine and Silia looked up. Priss jerked her head
toward the road and waited as
Silia scrambled to start her motorcycle. 

	Silia steered the bike with trembling hands and moved up alongside Priss.
Relief had coursed
through her when she saw that gesture and she vowed to never forget how
close she’d come to losing
everything. The engine next to hers roared and she followed Priss out onto
the highway. 

	They rode together in silence, each wondering what the other was thinking.
Priss watched the
wheel spin beside hers, but didn’t look at the rider. Why wasn’t she
angrier at Silia? She should be
furious. Silia had gone against her wishes and betrayed her trust, hadn’t
she? The memory of Silia’s face
when she’d attached the arm came back to her again. It nagged at her, that
flash of what had looked like
remorse in her otherwise stern features. Priss hadn’t considered what it
must have cost Silia to do what
she had, knowing what her reaction would be. Priss didn’t think she could
have done it if the tables had
been reversed.

	The orange ball of the sun fell below the horizon and still they rode on.
Dusk became night and
they found themselves nearing the remains of what had once been Aqua City.
A boomer had taken over
the site and the Knight Sabers had destroyed it. Silia remembered the sight
of Priss driving fearlessly
down into the bowels of the monster and longed to have the old Priss
returned to her. There was nothing
left of the city now, but the remains of a long bridge that went nowhere.
Priss turned onto the bridge and
maneuvered the bike through the barricades. Silia followed. 

	As they neared the edge, Silia wondered if Priss was going to stop or
would she let herself race
past and fall to her death in the waters below. She moved up beside Priss
and matched her speed. This
time she would yield to Priss’ wishes.

	Priss saw Silia keeping pace with her and realized what she was thinking.
The end of the bridge
was rapidly approaching. As they got closer, she also realized that she
wasn’t going to stop unless Priss
did.

	Silia saw the bike next to hers begin to slow and breathed a sigh of
relief. They brought the
machines to a halt inches from the edge and shut them down. Silia pulled
off her helmet, but didn’t look
at Priss. The night was beautiful. The moon cast shimmering rays over the
water, but she could see dark
clouds in the distance. Silia tasted rain as she felt the breeze sweep in
over the ocean and decided that as
long as she knew Priss was alive, she would be happy with that. 

	Priss removed her helmet and watched Silia watch the sea. If  Silia
noticed, she said nothing.
Priss struggled to find the words to tell her what she was feeling. 
	
	Silia spoke softly. “I’m sorry.”

	Silence followed her words and she wished she could recall them. They were
poor offerings
considering the magnitude of suffering she’d caused and she didn’t blame
Priss for ignoring them.

	Priss didn’t know what to say. She had been prepared to hear Silia list
all of the reasons why she
was right and Priss was wrong. The whispered apology floored her. Silia
never apologized and Priss was
startled to find that it made her uncomfortable. She wasn’t sure she wanted
an apology.

	“You...you were doing what you do best.” She halted, unsure of how to
continue. Priss sighed and
decided to wing it, what she did best. “If it had been anyone else, I would
have killed them. You took the
decision out of my hands and robbed me of the right to choose.”

	Silia said nothing and waited, knowing that the worst was coming.

	“I woke up and found out that one of the three people that I trust in this
world had betrayed me.
You dropped this bomb on me and walked away like it didn’t concern you one
way or another. Then you
came back and managed to make my worst nightmare a reality. Do you know how
much it hurt when you
forced this on me?” Priss drew ragged gulps of air and continued. “Do you
know what I dream now? I’m
on stage and the crowd is screaming. I’m singing better than I’ve ever sung
before and then I see Sylvie in
the audience. Suddenly the music stops and she’s on the stage with me. She
smiles and says welcome to
the club. I don’t understand what she’s talking about until her face begins
to split and fall away. I try to
scream, but I can’t speak and she comes at me and I can feel her pulling
the flesh away from my face.
Sylvie disappears and I’m standing in front of a huge mirror. I am a
boomer. Every night I dream and
every day I wake up to find that it’s true.” She grabbed Silia’s arm and
jerked her around to face her. “I
should kill you for that!”

	Silia pulled away and got off of her bike. She walked over to the edge and
stared at the dark,
swirling water, hundreds of feet below. She turned around and watched Priss
come towards her. “Go
ahead.”

	Priss stopped at her words and realized that she meant it. The wind had
picked up and she felt it
pushing at her, pushing at Silia. She moved closer and Silia stood still,
waiting for whatever may come.
Priss saw the shiny tracks of tears in the moonlight and couldn’t believe
it. Silia didn’t cry. She was made
of ice, wasn’t she? Priss knew that the next few moments would effect her
life forever. A choice had to be
made. She raised her hand to Silia’s face. Silia pulled away and Priss saw
a flash of fear. It hurt, that
small moment of doubt, and Priss realized that despite everything, she
still cared about her.

	The wind gusted suddenly and Silia was caught off balance. She swayed back
over the precipice,
her arms windmilling. As she went over the edge she saw a flash of silver
and felt herself jerked to a stop.
She looked up to see the metal hand that she’d created. Priss had hooked
her foot against a metal rail and
was hanging half way off of the bridge. She felt her shoulder screaming
protest as it took the full force of
Silia’s weight. Priss grabbed the edge with her human hand, struggling to
keep them both from going
over. She began to inch herself further back onto the bridge.

	“I guess I made it easy for you, didn’t I?” Silia’s voice was filled with
irony as she reached up
with her other hand and started to pull Priss’ fingers away from her wrist.
“Let me go, Priss. Get on with
your life.”

	Priss scowled at her and tightened her grip, though in truth there was no
way Silia could remove
her hand. “Are you crazy? Hold still while I pull you up.” Priss was on her
knees now and she began to
ease Silia up over the side of the bridge.

	“You don’t want me to live, Priss. I don’t blame you, I’d want me dead
too.” She began to
hammer her fist against the metal hand and Priss lost her temper.
	
	“Will you shut up!” She yanked hard and Silia came flying over the edge,
knocking Priss back
and landing on top off her. Priss’ arms came around her and held her
tightly. She told herself that it was
to keep Silia from doing anything stupid, but she was lying to herself and
she knew it. She buried her face
in Silia’s hair and tried to think of some reason she shouldn’t. Hot tears
splashed onto her neck and she
pulled away to look at Silia. Despair was the only word to describe what
she saw there and Priss reacted
without thinking. She caught Silia’s face in her hands and kissed her.

	Silia felt the touch of her lips and froze. She began to shake and Priss
pulled her closer,
deepening the kiss. Blood roared through her head making her dizzy and
causing her heart to pound
furiously. 
	
	They laid there on the bridge and explored each other’s mouths, because
they could do nothing
else. Priss lost herself  in the taste of Silia and let her anger fall
away. She tore her mouth from hers and
began to rain kisses across Silia’s face, tasting the tears and licking
them away. Priss moved down to her
neck and Silia gasped as she nuzzled the soft flesh there. Silia found
herself holding Priss’ head to her
body and moaned when her hands slipped down her back and beyond gripping
her tightly. Priss sucked at
the flesh just above Silia’s collar and swore because her jacket was in the
way. She reached to unzip it and
stopped.
 
	She looked up at Silia and spoke softly. “I don’t want this to happen for
the wrong reasons. If you
want this to continue then we can go somewhere private. It’s your choice.
If you want to stop that’s okay,
too. But we’re leaving this place either way.” Silia got up awkwardly and
Priss followed, still not quite
sure she wouldn’t try a swan dive.

	 Silia touched  Priss’ face and spoke as honestly as she had.  “I don’t
want to stop and if being in
love with you is a wrong reason, then I’m guilty. I just don’t want to do
this with anger between us. I
don’t expect you to forgive me, but I need to know if your still angry.”

	Priss caught her hand and brought it to her lips. “I stopped being angry
the second I saw you fall.
Of all the emotions I’m feeling right now, anger is not one of them. I
won’t lie to you. I’m still dealing
with the rest,” she paused and her voice grew faint, “ but I figure you can
help me with that.” Silia felt the
touch of the smooth metal around her fingers and knew that it was a start.



         + + + + +  


	The storm raged outside, unnoticed by the lovers. There was only the sound
of soft sighs and
urgent moans. Priss watched Silia’s face as she touch her. Her eyes were
closed, head thrown back and
small sounds of pleasure escaped her as Priss continued to tease her soft
flesh. She pulled her hand away
and let damp fingers glide up her body, ignoring Silia’s cry of dismay. She
touched the firm tip of one
breast and bent her lips to the other. Silia’s ragged moan filled the room. 

	A husky laugh and soft lips descended Silia’s body, searching. The wind
blew across the bed,
mixing the scent of cool rain with sweet spice and creating an intoxicating
blend. Priss breathed deeply
and continued to play the exquisite instrument before her. Agile fingers
drew forth a melody of sighs and
a chorus of moans that combined into the most ancient harmony.  She changed
the tempo and the beat
increased, faster and faster, swelling into a crescendo, surging into the
final clear note of Silia’s cry of
release.

	Priss heard the roar of success in her ears and she cradled her beloved
instrument as the last
echoes of  music faded, leaving only the sound of rain.  

	The storm had long passed and the concert was over, but the instrument had
other ideas. Silia
moved over Priss and whispered softly, just before she bit her neck. 

	“Encore.”




	Priss kissed Silia’s shoulder and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling
her back against her.
Silia reached up and laid her hand on the warm metal. Priss felt her
fingers trace her upper arm,
following the pattern.

	“Why?”

	“Why what?”

	“You know.”

	“Oh.”

	“Yes.”

	“Because it’s what you are.”

	Priss smiled as she felt sleep overtake her. Silia fell asleep soon after,
her hand resting over the
hawk.