#madmud writes

[madmud2730]

@fangedmetadevil

The first time they met he stalked her and she was terrified. His roars echoed off the wall of the Cosmodrone and the little machine - a ghost, it said it was - reassured her that there was nothing to fear. If she died it would bring her back again and again, as many times as she needed, and they would make it to the City. Traveling would be faster and easier though if she avoided death as much as possible, something which that Fallen Captain was guaranteed to bring if they encountered it now. "One day though,” the ghost promised as she fled for the wall, “We’ll come back and we’ll take care of that Captain. Make sure he never hurts anyone else ever again.”

The second time they met she stalked him and he was angry. He roared at her and took aim with his shrapnel launcher. Esmay dived behind a concrete roadblock for cover and Saph chided in her ear that this was a bad idea. Esmay ignored her as she handed her rifle off to Saph for storage and the ghost sighed before it transmatted the weapon away. “Do you know what to say?” Esmay asked, despite having gone over the plan with Saph at least a dozen times by now.

“I do.”

“Then do it.”

The ghost swirled anxiously then played a garbled audio recording of Fallen speech. “Peace!” Saph shouted out, over and over again. “Peace! We are here in peace!”

It was enough to get him to stop shooting and call off his crew. It was not enough for him to grant her the right to get closer though. When Esmay tried to step beyond the roadblock the Captain hissed and raised his weapon at her, warning her to stay put. Saph shouted for peace to remind him they were trying to be friendly. Esmay obliged his desire for space in order to maintain that peace.

“This is a bad idea.” Saph warned her again when all seemed safe. The Captain didn’t shoot at them, just clicked his mandibles and continued to hiss in warning. It was a very loose definition of safe, but what value did safety hold to someone who could rise from the dead?

“Go on.” Esmay told her ghost. The first message had been spoken. Now they needed to speak the second one, and the third, and the fourth, and the fifth... However many it took to establish a permanent line of peace with the Captain. The Eliksni were scavengers of a lost world, but that did not have to make them killers. They could be allies to the Guardians and the City. Perhaps they could even be Guardians themselves, if the Traveler willed it to be so. They just needed a chance.

Esmay was willing to give them that chance. Even if she only befriended this one Captain, it would be a victory in her eyes. An enemy turned into an ally is more valuable than any number of dead enemies.

The third time they met they were both anxious. The alliance formed between them was unsteady at best, but it was enough. In exchange for not killing each other on sight, they would teach each other the language of their people. Esmay was terrible at Eliksni pronunciation (much to the annoyance of her teacher) and quickly left the task of speaking it to Saph. Xirr’s English was gravelly and broken, but understandable.

Then, after many more meetings, the language barrier was broken and the terms of their alliance shifted. In exchange for not killing each other, they would teach each other the cultures of their people. Xirr growled that humanity was soft for letting the Guardians be their only warriors. Esmay pitied the Eliksni for having to turn every member of their Houses into warriors. Part of her wondered if this was always the case for the Eliksni or if life had been more peaceful before the Darkness came, but she never dared to ask. A great deal of time may have passed since the fall of their planet but she imagined it was still a great wound to them, one she would never prod at. It would serve her no purpose anyway.

Esmay had stopped counting how many meetings they had now. They met so frequently that it was pointless to do so. There were better things to keep track of, to count, and to monitor. Meeting a friend did not require careful documentation.

She wondered if he had ever documented their encounters and how quickly he may have given up the process, and hummed to herself. It made her happy to think of him giving up and coming to think of her as a friend at the same time she did with him.

The Warlock smiled and she shut her eyes, absorbing the last rays of warmth coming from the setting sun on her face. The Cosmodrone air was getting colder as night approached and she knew she should put her helmet back on to stave off the cold, but she had come to dislike wearing it while she was around Xirr. She rarely ever got to take off her helmet while outside of the City and he was one of the few things that made her feel comfortable enough to take it off. Putting it back on for any reason other than leaving or combat felt wrong to her.

“It’s cold.” The Captain warns through a low growl, watching her closely with his eyes. “Get your helmet.”

“In a minute,” she tells him, earning herself another growl. The smile on her face broadens at the sound. To the untrained ear, he is threatening her. She knows better though. “A little cold air won’t kill me.”

“Then do not complain when you are cold.” He huffs, moving away from her.

Esmay sighs and opens her eyes, taking one last look at the view, and follows him.

[madmud2730]

@fangedmetadevil, have an idea that came to mind but I never got around to writing it until now. also it’s late and my give-a-fuck-o meter is reading at an all time low so expect nothing of quality

He lays her down on the sleeping bag gently, then deliberately runs his secondary hands over her form while the primary hands hover, waiting for the secondaries to find something for them to latch on or tend to. Esmay tiredly pushes the nearest hand away, mumbling that she is alright and he needn’t worry. He worries anyway. Despite Saph’s best efforts to heal her, Esmay still carries herself as though is were injured and severely weakened. Xirr-Kis is quickly beginning to suspect that whatever injury is laming her goes beyond the physical body and lays within her spirit, within her Light - if it’s still there at all.

A noise rumbles in his throat and he plops down beside her. Four eyes watch the road leading into the Farm and four eyes watch him. It isn’t long before the number of eyes on him changes to two as one of his Guardians drifts off to sleep. Xirr-Kis is frustrated that the eyes that closed were not her’s.

He feels a hand slide into one of his secondary hands and looks down at the joined appendages. Esmay had done this many times before - hand holding, she called it - and he never understood the purpose or cared for it, but he indulged her every now and again. Mostly in the City, where things were safe - were suppose to be safe - and not on in the open worlds. He prefers to keep all his hands at ready and unheld when they’re outside the City so that he is always prepared to fight at a moment’s notice.

Technically, the Farm is not the City. He needed to keep his hand open.

Xirr-Kis does not move and shifts his eyes to her.

“Keep an eye out for them.” She murmurs, blinking slowly and heavily. Fighting off sleep, he recognizes. “And tell me--” A yawn catches her by surprise. Esmay does her best to hurry through the process, but exhaustion keeps the yawn long and deep. Xirr-Kis begins to purr, knowing full well it will hurry the process of her falling asleep. It’s happened before. It will happen again now. “Tell me when they get here please.”

He draws in a breath of ether, the gas gurgling in his throat before he rasps out in a hushed voice, “I will.”

Esmay moans lightly in what he assumes to be thanks as she lowers her eyelids and never lifts them again. She lightly squeezes his hand and her breathing begins to even out.

Xirr-Kis blinks and looks down at their joined hands again, then the road. After a minute of silence passes, he squeezes her hand.

[madmud2730]

A Christmas drabble gift thing for @mamascream and @choochoomotherslagger.

This is also pretty much a rough draft so expect an ungodly amount of errors. OTL

Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the apartment not a creature was stirring, not even the trained dog who laid protectively at his stand-in master’s bedside.

That peace would not last very long though.

At the stroke of midnight, Casey slips out of the covers and sneaks through the bedroom. Upon reaching the door he looks back to check on his partner, who continues to sleep the night away, then the dog, who holds their head high and slightly tilted. Casey gives a hushed command for the dog to stay, and with a sigh Junior lowers his head but does not close his eyes.

Confident that he's now in the clear, Casey slips past the door and tip toes over to Eve’s room, slowly cracking open her door and wedging his face into the gap. “Pssssst.”

Nothing.

“Eeeeveeee.”

Still nothing.

“Eve, are you awake?”

After a moment of silence, there is a hushed, “I am awake.”

“Cool,” Casey opens the door all the way and grins at his pseudo-adopted-daughter. “Wanna go check out our Christmas presents?”

She responds to his question with a frown. “I don’t think we’re suppose to open our presents until Christmas morning.”

“Well, yeah, but it’s Christmas!” Casey beamed at her. “It’s officially Christmas. Pretty sure AM means morning, right?”

“That is correct.”

“And it’s,” a quick glance at the clock. “Looks like twelve o... something. It’s past midnight, twelve AM. It’s morning, specifically Christmas morning.”

The frown on Eve’s face shrinks a bit then gradually turns into a smile. “It is.”

“Sooooooo,” Casey’s grin broadens, “whaddya say, kiddo?”

Eve sits up in her bed and asks, “is Gabe awake?”

“Nah. Geezer is still restin’. We’re okay though. I can wrap everything up again so we can reopen our presents when he gets up later.”

Eve frown returns as she gets out of bed and meets Casey at the door. “That doesn’t seem very...” She waves her hand around, trying to come up with a word. “Right?”

"It’s cool.” Casey leads her to the living room, where their tiny, plastic, presenting guarding tree awaits. He plops himself on the floor near the tree and starts grabbing for presents while Eve takes a seat beside him. “Alright, kiddo,” he holds up two of her presents in his hands, one wrapped in red paper; the other blue. “Which one you wanna open first?”

“Pick the red one.” Gabe answers, startling them both. Yawning, the older man shuffles his way to the kitchen area and pours himself a cup of coffee while Junior trots over to lay between Eve and Casey.

“Gaaabe, hey,” Casey tosses the presents back under the tree, nearly knocking it over and stands up. “Whatchu doing up this late?”

“I could ask you both the same thing.” Gabe puts his cup in the microwave for a minute and smiles at his flatmates, easing some of the tension in the room.

“Pssh, we were.. We were just--”

“Going to start Christmas early without me,” the older man interrupts then taps at his left ear. “Just because this ear is burnt does not mean I cannot hear you two plotting behind my back.”

“We’re sorry, Gabe,” Eve chimes in, looking sorrowful. “We didn’t mean to exclude you.”

“It’s fine, Masā.” The microwave dings and Gabe pulls out his coffee, then shuffles over to the couch. “It’s natural for children to be excited on such a holiday.”

Casey puffs out his chest defensively. “Are you calling me a child?”

“I have called you many things, Qiṭār,” Gabe hums. “Child is hardly an insult.”

Casey huffs in disagreement and sits back down. “Yeah, well, I’m taking back your Christmas present, you butt.”

“Then I will also take back your’s.” Gabe smiles as he sips his coffee. “Now then - I believe Eve was going to open my present first.”

[madmud2730]

Inspired by @monsternobility‘s post and the Festival of the Lost

She traces her fingers over the lines drawn onto the paper, wondering if Eva had given her the crude imitation of the Speaker’s mask on purpose or not. It was unlikely Eva did it on purpose, but still - Esmay wondered.

She knew the Speaker had a Ghost, and she knew only Guardians were blessed enough to have Ghosts. That meant the Speaker was a Guardian, but did it mean another Guardian could assume their role? Was this cheap mask a hint of something great in her future?

Esmay hummed as she put it on, stowing her questions away for later. There were more important matters to attend to - like collecting more candy than Xaive so she won’t have to suffer through his infernal gloating.

“Seriously?” Xaive gawked down at the box of raisins.

Eris was silent.

“What kind of treat is this?!”

Her eyes narrowed. “What kind of Exo wants food?”

“The kind who wants to share with all the good lil boys and girls down in the City!”

She sneered. “Then feed them the raisins.”

“Nobody likes raisins, lady.”

She was trying her best not to laugh but when giggles started to slip past her reserve, Samantha covered her mouth to silence them. She could hear the amusement in Cayde’s voice when he spoke.

“What?” He canted his head. “What’s so funny?”

Samantha shook her head, not trusting herself to speak without laughing.

“Is it my face?” The Hunter grasped at his mask. “Is there something on my face?”

The giggles were turning into choked laughs and snorts.

“Do I have something on my face? Please don’t let it be anything hideous. My roguish good looks are all I got left.”

[madmud2730]

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Blackguard, Redstrike Relationships: Blackguard/Redstrike (Bondmates) Additional Tags: Vaguely Fluffy, Nonsense, Seriously this is ridiculous skip over it Summary: The only thing more awkward than silence is dancing. Author’s Notes: I’m experimenting with my characters. It’s one part figuring Redstrike, one part figuring how Blackguard and Redstrike interact with each other, one part figuring out their relationship, and six parts me just wanting this because I can have it. Also I wrote it with this song in mind.

Things between them were... difficult. At least that’s how Blackguard chose to see it. Disastrous was probably a better word but that made it sound like they had no chance of reconnecting, which was very likely and also very undesirable. She felt enough shame for leaving the relationship. Taking on more shame for staying out of it was just unthinkable. They had to work things out, one way or another.

But how does one rekindle the spark between them and another? How does one start being in a relationship again after spending so many years being out of it? How does one reconnect with their bondmate?

They certainly don’t bury themself in work and hope the problem takes care of itself, but that was the route Blackguard was going with anyway. It never worked, but it was still her favorite tactic to use. The only thing she had going for right now was that she and Redstrike were talking again. It was usually in short, awkward bursts but it was good enough for her. They weren’t ignoring each other and they weren’t arguing - what more could she want?

Stability, security, trust, love.

Her rotors twitched uneasily. It was getting harder to pretend everything was fine when it was clearly not.

Things weren’t difficult, they were disastrous.

There was a knock on the door. Blackguard looked up from her datapad and hesitantly invited him in. 

The door opened and Redstrike walked into the office with a radio in hand, looking expectantly at Blackguard, who stared blankly back at him. This visit was not planned and every attempt to gather data (emotions, ideas, anything that could indicate what was happening) through the bond failed. He was up to something and he was guarding himself well, leaving her scared and in the dark.

As the silence between them started to become uncomfortable, Redstrike shut the door, went up to the merchant’s desk, set the radio down, and looked at her again. Blackguard’s optics flickered between the radio and the peregrine, searching for any clue or sign that she might have missed before. Nothing stood out to her though and she looked at her bondmate helplessly. “Uhm...”

Redstrike held out his hand and waited for her to take it, then guided her out of her seat and away from the desk, out into the middle of the office where it was open and far away from any furniture or datapads. As Blackguard began to fidget, Redstrike gently squeezed her hand and offered her a small smile. “Scared?”

“...Uhm.”

“Relax.” He reached back with his free hand to press play on the radio. “You don’t need to talk.”

That was somewhat relieving to hear, but Blackguard still worried about what was going on. “Okay.” Her rotors twitched. “What do I do then?”

“You listen and,” he paused for a moment, giving her a chance to hear the music as it began, “dance.”

“Dance?” Her vocalizer squeaked.

“Yes.” Redstrike took her other hand and started to move, dragging her along with him. Blackguard felt clumsy and kept her optics on the floor, watching her pedes to make sure they didn’t go out of place or step on his. The moves were vaguely familiar to her - slow, sensual - and she gradually started to remember.

This dance was one of their favorites.

Redstrike’s smile broadened when Blackguard finally looked up at him. “Redstrike, what--”

“Shh. Listen.”

She ‘frowned’ and looked back down, saying no more. It was best not to tempt fate and risk upsetting the seeker with unwanted chatter. If she played along with his game then it would end sooner, and the sooner it ended the sooner she could stop dancing with him.

Blackguard wasn’t entirely sure she really wanted to stop dancing though.

The music continued on as the two estranged bondmates danced with each other, and Blackguard listened to it as intently as she could without forgetting where her’s and Redstrike’s pedes were. When it seemed like nothing but a steady beat and various noises would play, the singer’s voice softly broke out and Blackguard froze up as her full attention went to their words. If Redstrike was cross with her for prematurely ending the dance, she failed to noticed.

♫ It might not be the right time ♩ ♪ I might not be the right one ♬ ♫ But there’s something about us I want to say ♩ ♪ Cause there’s something between us anyway ♬

♫ I might not be the right one ♩ ♪ It might not be the right time ♬ ♫ But there’s something about us I’ve got to do ♩ ♪ Some kind of secret I will share with you ♬

♫ I need you more than anything in my life ♩ ♪ I want you more than anything in my life ♬ ♫ I’ll miss you than anyone in my life ♩ ♪ I love you more than anyone in my life ♬

A small wave of affection gently brushed over her spark and Blackguard tentatively glanced up at her mate, who looked as nervous as she was. His smile began to flatter under her gaze and Blackguard quickly flashed him a ‘smile’ before teasing. “Are you copying from Quickshaft’s playbook?”

“Maybe,” he chuckles as he looks down at their pedes for a moment. “But not quite. Quickshaft would have sang this.”

“And several other songs.”

“And several other songs.” Redstrike nodded in agreement. “But I can’t sing, so I thought I’d stick to the one thing I did know - dancing.”

Blackguard hummed quietly as she gently pushed her digits in between his. They felt strange and familiar at the same time. “Well, I’m sure he would be impressed with your adaption to his move.”

“Really? Because I thought he’d feel threatened.”

“That too.” They shared a laugh and squeezed each other’s hands.

“He never was a good dancer.”

“Nope.”

“That never stopped him though.”

“Nothing ever did.”

“Except for us.” The affection Blackguard felt on her spark turned to sorrow, and quickly all of the emotions she was picking up from her mate disappeared. Redstrike hesitantly pulled away from her and politely bowed. “Thank you for this dance.”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” Blackguard nodded and returned the bow. “My pleasure.”

The peregrine let out a soft hum as he grabbed his radio, headed for the door, and left without saying goodbye. Blackguard stared at the door, hoping he would come back, but after a klik passed with nothing but silence she sighed and returned to her desk.

Things between them weren’t difficult or disastrous, they were just complicated.

[madmud2730]

Home Again

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Blackguard, Mixracks Relationships: Parent/Child Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort Summary: Blackguard discovers that her homeworld, Gigantion, has survived the rust plague and races home to reunite with her caretaker. Author’s Notes: I just really wanted to write some post-war/post-plague fluff for Blackguard. I focus too much on the bad things with her and I needed to do something good for once.

A small bell rings over Blackguard’s head as she opens the door and she lets out a soft hum as she looks up at it. The new addition to the shop is as cute as it is amusing; bright and shiny, the edge was trimmed with a line of little cars that looked suspiciously familiar, and the clapper was shaped like a wheel. Blackguard quietly laughed to herself. Typical.

“I’ll be with ya in a nanoklik!” His voice echoed from the back and her visor brightened. It’s him. She marches up to the counter, to excited to hide her pedefall from him. If he could recognize it after all these years then he was doing better than she was. If not, then that would make the look on his face that much sweeter for her.

Mixracks walks out of the backroom, wiping his hands with an oil rag.  "Heya, sorry ‘bout th--” His optics widen and his jaw drops. Her visor brightens up even more as he carefully sets the rag down. “Blackguard?”

She chirps at him (or, at least, she tries to chirp but instead makes a garbled, staticky noise) and reaches over the counter, pulling the carozzi up and over and into a hug. He yelps, then laughs joyously and does his best to return the embrace. Slowly, her grip around him tightens and Blackguard begins to shake as a choked sob slips out of her vocalizer. It’s really him.

Mixracks quietly shushes the aquilae, stroking the back of her helm as he hums old lullabies she hasn’t heard since she was a youngling that make her legs buckle. Another sob slips out and Mixracks yelps as Blackguard falls to her knees. “Shh, shh.” He strokes her helm harder, wraps his arm around her tighter. “I know, kiddo. I know.

“I’ve missed you too."

[madmud2730]

Once upon a time, mamascream drew a thing. That thing was so cool at the time (and still is cool) that I finally broke down and started watching Red vs Blue. Now I have a bunch of armored babies. Thanks a lot, Clockwork.

This is an early birthday fic btw. I was going to post it on July 10th (when Clockwork’s birthday is, HINT HINT) but I’m eager to share this quick little ficlet so yeah HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY, CLOCK. ♥

"Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You ever wonder why we’re here?”

Gabe frowned thoughtfully. He thought about that often - project freelancer, the Meta, the agents getting into some kind of civil war then scattering to the wind. None of it made a lot of sense to him. Then again, he had deliberately ignored it. "Yes.” His finally answered a long period of silence, frown deepening as he thought about it more. “I didn’t pay much attention to what was going on though, just kept focused on my job - making you guys good, good like the Director’s top eight.” His heart suddenly sank at the memory of them. Those agents were just kids, they all were. Casey would probably remark how everyone was a kid compared to him, which was true but no less depressing. Children weren’t suppose to be soldiers. “Something went wrong though, something... malfunctioned. When the Director failed to keep it together his agents broke out in fights, big fights too not just little squabbles and brawls, and they brought the ship down.” The scars on his face started to tingle and he touched them, trying to rub off the ghostly pain. “I figured that was a good opportunity to run because whatever was going on there was wrong, and I didn’t want us to be a part of it anymore.”

Silence fell between them, and when Gabe finally rubbed off his ‘pain’ Casey spoke up again. “Dude...”

“What?”

“I was just askin’ ‘bout why we’re in the canyon.”

“Oh.” The older man coughed to hide his embarrassment. “Well... You know why. The warthog ran out of fuel and--”

“Yeah, I know, but,” Casey gestured to the canyon walls that boxed them in, “why here? Why are we huddling down in a place that has no way in or out unless you’ve got the ability to fly?”

“Because it seemed secure. No one can sneak up on us if they have to fly in.”

“Okay.” He nodded slowly, then asked, “what was all that other stuff?”

“Hm?”

“You were talkin’ about project freelancer and how stuff broke. What was all that about?”

“Oh.” Another cough. “It’s... It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure it’s nothing?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.”

Silence.

“...do you wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You sure you’re su--”

“Yes, Casey, I am very--”

“Hey guys!” Eve suddenly chirped from behind, startling the two men. “Whatcha talking about?”

“Nothing!”

“Nothing.”

She frowned. It didn’t sound like nothing was being talked when she came up to the top of the base. Gabe was fidgeting, fingers against his rifle, and Casey had his best-worst ‘I don’t know anything’ face on. Something that was definitely not nothing had been talked about, but since neither one wanted to talk about what that something was she had to accept their answers and let it go. If it was important they would tell her. “Okay. Well, since you’re talking about nothing you won’t mind if I talk about something then, right?”

The two men exchanged curious and confused glances. “No?”

“Great! Follow me then!”

“No waaaaay! You actually did it?” Casey was bouncing around, overjoyed to see the warthog in working condition again. Even Gabe was smiling, which had Eve swelling with pride.

“Yup!” She patted the hood affectionately. “It’s fully functional again.”

“Impressive.” Gabe nodded as he circled around the vehicle. “How’d you do it?”

"Well...” Now she was nervous, kicking the dirt at her feet. Casey didn’t seem to notice, but Gabe did. When he inclined his head Eve reluctantly continued. “I might have borrowed some solar panels from the base’s power supply and put them on the warthog.”

The elder man’s brow furrowed. “How much did you borrow?”

“Not much, just what was needed.”

“Hmm...” Casey frowned and crawled into the driver’s seat, jerking the wheel this way and that way. “I don’t see any solar panels here.”

“That’s because I replaced the windshield with them.”

“Oh.” There was a loud smack from Gabe facepalming out of embarrassment. “I knew that.”

“So it works?” Gabe sighs as he drops his hand.

“Yes.” Eve chirped, then added, “I think.”

“You think?”

“Well, it’s untested. I can get it running but I don’t know how well it works in the field. That’s why I brought you guys down here - to test it.”

“Dibs on driving!”

“Oh no.” Gabe glowered at the other man. “You are not driving.”

“Too bad I called dibs.”

“You’ll wreck it!”

“I. Called. Dibs.” Casey puffed up.

“He did call dibs.” Eve nodded solemnly. “He gets to drive.”

Gabe let out another sigh and buried his face into a hand. "Fine. Fine. Whatever. He drives, and I’ll take passenger in case something goes wrong.”

“Oh relax, Pops.” Casey grinned as he fired up the warthog. He could feel daggers coming from Gabe’s eyes and they only made his grin broaden. “I ain’t gonna wreck it.”

[madmud2730]

Self indulgent OC/canon because I can’t get a website to work and I don’t feel like panicking because I made myself vulnerable.

It is 100% based off of RP things.

I will not be ashamed.

Inspirations - Prompt and Picture

“Don’t touch that!”

Swindle ignored her. There was an orb and he was curious about it. Yes, it was her property and she told him not to touch her things - especially that thing - but he wanted to know what it was and he was going to find out, one way or another.

Just as his digits brushed against the smooth metal surface of the orb, Blackguard swiped it and held it close to her chasis, visor glaring with anger. He grinned. “Come on, babe.” Her plating flared at the pet name and his grin broadened. She was so easy to screw with. He almost felt bad for playing her like this. Almost. “I just wanted to look at it. Why are you gettin' all defensive about it?”

“Because it’s valuable to me and I don’t want your grubby little digits all over it.” She hisses back at him, holding the orb closer. He’s kind of hoping she’ll throw it into her cockpit just so he can see if she actually uses it. Do things rattle around in there or does she take the time to secure them? Probably not. He chuckles at the thought of her walking, trying to be serious while that orb bounced around inside her, making a huge ruckus.

The grin turned into a crooked smile as Swindle leaned toward over the table, propping his elbow on it and resting his chin in his hand. She said the V word. Like it or not, she had his full attention now. “Valuable, huh? How much we talkin’, dollface?”

“Nothing.” She revved her engine at him. He liked the sound of it. Maybe a little too much, but he didn’t want to think about that right now. “It has sentimental value, not monetary.”

“I know you know better than that.” Her rotors flicked nervously. “Everything has a price, babe. You might not be interested in sellin’ that hunk of junk,” her plating flared out even more, “but I bet you’d pay a pretty penny to buy this thing back if it ever disappeared.”

“Is that a threat?” Another rev and she stomped her pede at him. She thought she could intimidate him. Cute.

“No,” he leaned back and continued to smile at her. “Just an observation.”