***

“Twenty-four hours.” Twenty-four damning hours. Reid powered down his office technology and rounded his desk, resting his hand on the back of Clara’s chair in an effort to lead her out of the room. His fingers brushed her silken blond hair.

She looked up at him, her body stiff under his shadow. “For what?”

“Until you’re allowed to sign.”

She scrambled out of her seat to follow him as he left the room. His hackles raised, annoyed, frustrated, and his nostrils filled with the smell of fruit. Her footsteps sounded behind him.

“I’m ready now.”

“Standard procedure.”

“I don’t need it. I’ve thought this through. I’m a hundred percent certain I want to join the program.”

His teeth ground together. Reid had made a mistake, because her question shook him. ‘I have to have sex with you?’

No, Clara, but now that you mention it... He wanted to shake her words out of his head and dig his claws into the cement outside. Reid clenched his hands, making sure his nails remained retracted. It had been decades since he had last been with a woman.

“It doesn’t matter. Protocol,” he gritted out as they entered the reception area. He walked past the desk and moved toward the door. “Go back to your hotel or hostel and think about it. Come back this time tomorrow if you’re certain.” He opened the door for her. A wave of arid, stifling, hellish heat blasted him and with it came the desert powder. Reid turned to face her. “Good day, Ms. Warren.”

“I don’t...”

She stopped just out of his reach and eyed the exit with wariness. He couldn’t read her.

“You don’t what?”

“I don’t have a place to go.”

Reid pulled his gaze from hers and looked at her vehicle on the far side of the parking lot.

“There’s a place not five miles past the gates. Take a left, you can’t miss it.”

“I don’t have any money.”

Don’t. Don’t play the hero. Her words set off a war inside of him.

“Please let me sign today...”

He let go of the door and dropped his arms. The outside vanished at his back.

“Do you need money, Clara?”

She took a slight step away from him and he couldn’t blame her. Reid had his walls up for a reason. But there was something about the way she smelled—fresh and alluring—and when she turned her big violet eyes toward his, he found himself drowning in their depths. He wanted to close the short distance between them and nuzzle up against her.

“I... err, what?”

Reid flicked on his wristcon and brought up his personal finances—not the facility’s, but his. “How much?”

“I’m not taking money from you.”

“You need the time to think.” I have plenty to spare. He kept his eyes off of hers.

“I don’t. I really don’t. If you need to give me time, give me twenty minutes, an hour, I’ll stay here in reception and think about it. I’ll make a pro-con chart.”

“Would you still say that if I told you that you did have to have sex with a Cyborg?”

He told himself it was to send her away, to scare her off, and that it wasn’t because he yearned to know the answer.

She scrunched her features and checked him out. “Would it have to be you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

Reid sighed and walked toward the desk, bringing up the screen without questioning further. It was better that he didn’t know the answer.

“Sign here.” He stepped aside and indicated the projected document.

He watched as Clara visibly shook herself and approached it. She read over the clauses and signed the file, her lithe finger dancing across the air. His jaw ticked. Sign both of our time away, Clara dear. The next three months might be hard for her, but it would be hell for him.

Reid was already growing accustomed to her presence. The sound of her steps. The sway of her curves hidden behind loose clothing. Before long, if he wasn’t careful, he wouldn’t want to let her out of his sight.

He powered down the document. “Do you have a personal IP address?”

“Yeah.” She pulled out her network card and handed it to him. He noticed that she didn’t pull out a personal wristcon or tablet. It was almost unheard of to not have a device on hand.

Reid took her card, careful not to touch her fingers, and memorized it instantly. Her version of the contract was sent immediately to her... wherever or whatever device that carried her data.

“Everything’s been sent to you. Follow me.” He moved back toward the exit.

“You could be less demanding. A please can go a long way.”

Once again he held the door for her. “No.”

“It would make you less of a jerk.” She stepped past him. “Where are we going?”

“To get your things. I’m not a jerk.”

“Hah!”

“I’m a realist. It’s not my problem you don’t like hearing the truth.”

Clara shot him a killing glare at his back, one he couldn’t see, but could feel.

Her vehicle was an age old, maybe even older than him. As he neared, he seeded into its mechanics and found parts that had, indeed, been around longer than he had. It was like the technology of Earth, where waste was no longer waste but only a set of materials that could be utilized in another fashion. Everything was recycled.

Still, the outside rust of the vehicle made him feel grimy. No Cyborg liked being near old technology for long; it was the encroaching decay that every machine would one day go through. That one day he’d go through. It was too much like climbing into a cadaver.

Reid knew it was still operating, or else she wouldn’t be here, but he also knew it probably shouldn’t be.

He grabbed her bags with a small protest from her and led Clara back into the facility, through reception, and in the direction opposite his office. They passed several locked doors where he had her scan her fingerprints for future access and entered the currently unused residency section of the building.

“This is your room.” He unlocked her door and held it open. She walked by him again and her nearness made him stiffen.

Reid followed her in, leaving the door open behind him, and placed her bags on the bed. Clara did a three-sixty and looked at the space. He tried seeing it through her eyes.

There was one large white bed, an alcove with a food replicator and some adjoining appliances, one round corner table with three chairs, empty wall panels, an open door to the bathroom, and one large mounted television wall screen. Everything was in shades of cold and colder greys. It was industrial, clean, and as far from comfortable as possible.

She faced him with another unreadable expression. He wanted to know what was in her head.

“What now?” she asked.

“Settle in, get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow you’ll have reconstructive surgery. Don’t eat anything tonight.”

Her eyes widened and she glanced down at her belly.

His need to pry amplified with each passing second. I have to leave. He didn’t want to leave. The part of him that was a shepherd wanted to stay and guard, protect, and bond. His fists clenched at his sides despite his need to close the distance and continue to sniff her.

“So soon?”

“Yes. Do you have any questions before I go? I assume you know how to work the amenities in here?” I need to get out of here. I need to leave. Now. It wasn’t his place.

She briefly looked around the room again. “Can I leave the room?”

“You can go anywhere you want that allows you access. If you have it, the doors will open as you near,” he said, with strained patience. “Some rooms are locked, other living spaces, the laboratories, my office... but you can go outside as far as the first security checkpoint. If you choose to go beyond that point, an alarm will sound, and your contract will be forfeit and you’ll be fined for your time here.”

Clara licked her lips and he watched, wanting to lick them himself. What’s wrong with me?

The need to bond with another being had never been so demanding before. She was dangerous because of it, dangerous to him. Berries continued to spin through his systems; images of strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries were in his head.

“All right...”

Reid turned to leave but before he closed the door behind him, she stopped him again.

“Wait! Where is everyone else?”

“There isn’t anyone else.”

“Why? What happened? I thought there would be so many... I expected a wait list, selection... I thought this entire process was going to be so different than what it has been.”

“Nothing happened.” His hand tightened on the door handle. “We don’t get many applicants here. We don’t need them. CBF stopped advertising years ago and the main facility is now on Gliese.”

“So... I’m alone?” her question came out warily. He couldn’t blame her. He would be concerned if he were alone as well... alone and with a strange man, a Cyborg she disliked, no less.

“We get temporaries here occasionally.” He felt the need to reassure her. “Applicants from Gliese that are transferred here for further testing. It’s the nature of the beast—of science—the equipment installed here, well, can’t be moved without an extreme amount of effort. This facility has become more of a laboratory than anything since the war. Can you imagine trying to transfer the hadron collider into space? Some machines—labs—aren’t meant to move.”

“Oh...”

“Goodnight, Clara.” Reid closed the door and made his escape, filtering out everything about her from his systems: her smell, her mannerisms, even the few interactions they had that had softened him, and buried it all under a mountain of code.

By the time he reached the parking lot he had stripped out of his suit and was surging forward into the vast grounds and setting sun.

What better way to tire out a dog but with a long run in the fading desert heat?