Chapter Text
She must have caught the eye of every butch in the bar wearing that tight black slip dress. That little number hugged her plates in all the right places, especially highlighting the slate grey chest augmentation that made the red machine believe she had to have been built like that for it to fit so seamlessly. In that moment, V2 was no better than any man.
V2 knew everything they needed to from the way the girl moved, the way she would throw glances over her shoulder every so often and V2 wouldn’t look away.
Only an incoming ping from a certain machine broke her concentration off the sight.
>V1: DON’T WAIT UP
She swivelled her optic towards the transmission. Off to the side in a booth, but still shamelessly within the view of every optic in the bar, V1 was being straddled by an angel with a top much too tight for what it was stretched over. He was not so subtly grinding against its thigh and clearly being encouraged by the hand planted firmly on his backside. Its other hand slipped under his shirt. They were completely ignorant to the rest of the world, ‘making out’ the best way a machine and a helmeted angel could. V2 rolled their eye at the scene. If V1 wanted to act like that, they should have just went to a nightclub instead. She turned her attention back to the dance floor.
The girl was gone, her group of friends danced on without her. Her shoulders sagged.
“So, do you dance, or do you just like to watch?” A voice asked. The girl had sat to the right, leaning her bevel on the heel of her hand. How had she snuck up on her?
V2 didn’t hide the way she looked her up and down; a slow drag of their optic starting at her heeled shoes and bare thighs, stopping to meet the eye that looked at them quizzically.
“Just trying to catch your eye. Seems like it worked.” V2 said.
The girl crossed her legs, and leaned on the bar. She rested her bevel against the heel of her palm and chuckled, “Thank my friends. They suggested I come over and see if I could squeeze the confidence out of you.”
The red machine followed her lead, leaning against the bar and cocking her head. “Nothing shy about appreciating the view, is there? Though,” She quieted her voice module volume so that only the girl would hear, “maybe I’d like to see it up close.”
An amber eye studied the red machines intentions carefully. The colour reminded V2 of the petals of a sunflower.
A well-manicured finger tapped against the side of her bezel, as if deep in thought. If the suspense affected the larger machine in any way, she certainly didn’t show it.
The girl pointed at the Knuckleblaster resting against the bar, “As long as you keep that claw to yourself, Red, you’ve got a deal.”
V2 dipped her head in acknowledgement as she got up from the bar stool, extending a non-clawed hand to the girl, “You have my word, sunshine.”
Machines, fiends, and angels alike moved around them like water as the two made their way onto the dance floor. The hungry looks from some of the other bar patrons shifted to envy – surely this newcomer snagging such a fine femme would not go unnoticed or unforgotten but V2 paid them no mind.
As she turned towards the girl, V2 finally answered V1.
>V2: I won’t.
Under these lights, the girls once blue plates were bathed a soft purple and her dress glittered in ways that V2 hadn’t been able to see from her perch at the bar. She lacked the tactile sensors to know what it felt like, but it must have been silky smooth by the way her hand slid over it to cup her waist.
They moved without speaking – V2 followed the quiet song the girl was singing with her body and played along like she had written it herself. V2’s fingers roamed over the small of the girls back, her clawed hand gingerly taking her partners hand and spun her around. The girl tilted her head against the larger machines shoulder.
“What, you tired of looking at me?” Her tone didn’t match her words.
A deep hum reverberated from V2’s chassis, no doubt rumbling through the girls back currently pressed against her chest. She gave her hand a squeeze, “Never.”
V2 hugged her arm around the girls waist and held her there as the two swayed. The girl draped her arm over the back of V2's neck, grazing her nails against the thin metal. She pressed against the larger machine and shuttered her optic, letting V2 lead the way.
The girl wasn’t much shorter than her, maybe a just below her optic without the heels, but they fit together like two puzzle pieces and V2 didn’t want to let go. Her fans revved with every brush of her fingers, or press of her hips – lord, she was putting on a brave face but she doubted she would survive the night. She was on fire.
Light glinted off purpley-blue plating as the girl looked up at her dance partner, turning slightly in her arms to get a better vantage. Their bevels were mere millimetres apart, optics half-lidded. The colour of sunflower petals ensconced in an autumn dawn was all she could see.
“Thank you for the dance, Red.” She whispered. “I should get back to my friends.” She placed two fingers against her bevel, then placed them against V2's. She pulled out of her arms and like a ghost, disappeared into the crowd as if she was nothing more than a mirage.
~☆~
V2 returned to the bar every Friday, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ghost girl she had let slip through her fingers. The following Friday from that fateful day, some of the other machines applauded her on the catch but it was no secret they were just trying to get the scoop for themselves. V2 respectfully kept quiet. What happened between the two of them, she wanted to keep to herself even if everyone had been watching. They hadn’t truly seen it. And something told her that the girl wouldn’t appreciate being talked about without her knowledge.
A plume of air rushed through her fans in a mock sigh. It was getting late, and there was no sign of her femme fatale. V2 shouldered through the crowd and towards the front door of the bar. A sweep of frigid winter wind cooled her circuitry as she exited out onto the street.
“Hey, Red.” She could never forget that voice.
Leaning against the brick exterior, cigarette held between two fingers, was the girl. She was dressed in the same glittery black dress from all those weeks ago. Suddenly, it felt like no time at passed at all.
“Hey, sunshine.” V2 sidled up next to her, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Thought I wouldn’t see you again.”
She laughed, “Is that why you’ve been stalking this place every week since then?” She took another drag of her cigarette through a vent port close to her neck. A small flush crept up V2's processors. Her fans spun a little louder.
V2 looked away, “How’d you know?”
“I’m friends with the bartender. He said you’ve been coming around every Friday and sitting in the same seat looking all sad.”
“Then what are you doing out here on a Friday?” It was V2's turn to be smug.
The girl paused. V2 turned back to look at her. She dug her heel into the ground absentmindedly as she fidgeted with her cigarette. She wouldn’t meet V2's gaze.
“I came to see you.” She said so quietly V2 almost couldn’t hear. “But, I saw you sitting there and got cold feet.” She flicked the cigarette to the sidewalk and ground it out with her shoe. “I was hoping the nicotine would help.”
The two stood in silence, listening to the sound of the muffled music and banter. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and if V2 was being honest, any time spent with this mystery girl was quality, but hell, she didn’t even know her name.
“You know, I never caught your name.” V2 commented.
Finally, that amber optic met her own. The silence continued for another few beats longer. A car passed them by.
“Mirage.”
V2 hummed in response. Mirage notched her shutter.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She mimicked her hum, and V2 couldn’t help but laugh. Mirage punched her arm.
V2 put her hands up in surrender, “I’ve just never heard a name more fitting.”
“Yeah, well, what’s your name then?” She bristled.
“V2.”
“God, boring! I like Red better.” V2 chuckled again, shaking her head.
“You can call me whatever you’d like. It all sounds good coming from you.”
Mirage narrowed her shutters, studying the taller machine with an inscrutable glare.
V2 looked out over the snowy street, “Well, what do you say, sunshine? Care to dance?” She offered her arm.
~☆~
Something had changed this time around.
If the first time they danced they had fit together like puzzle pieces, this time around they could have melted into each other completely.
Mirage’s hands were on her shoulders, down her arms, on the back of her head. As soon as they had made it onto the dance floor, she had whispered those sweet words and placed V2’s clawed fingers directly onto her waist.
“Don’t mind the dress.” She continued. “I wore it for you anyway.”
That really made V2’s fans pick up. She dug the tips of her claw into the silky fabric. Mirage shivered.
With both her hands now roaming the smaller machines body, V2 could read her better.
As the music picked up, so did they; pushing and pulling against each other in a tidal rhythm as the music rose and fell. V2 would pull Mirage close before letting her twirl away, the flare of her skirt glittering under the lights. Mirage’s optic would snap open at the end of the spin, and V2 would be there still holding her outstretched hand, ready to pull her back in.
With a firm tug, it was V2 stumbling towards her – surprised by the change of lead. Mirage turned and draped her arms over V2’s shoulders, she was practically on her tippy toes to lean into her audial. Her soft chest pressed against the unyielding metal of V2’s own beneath her shirt.
“What do you want to do?” She asked sweetly.
Damn, this girl would be the death of her.
V2 placed her hands on Mirage’s hips, “What'd you have in mind?"
That amber light was pulling her in and she wasn’t sure if she would have the power to get herself out if she fell in.
“I want you to take me home, Red. You know what that means right?”
She would gladly fall in.
“Let's go, sunshine."
~☆~