Harper told Remiel that he loved me.
Wow, as Beka might say.
I’ve been wrestling with those words for a nearly a week now.
I think that after Gabriel, I simply did not want to deal with the possibility that anyone else could love me the way he had. I think I’m still not sure if I can.
But as I watch Harper through my main frame self, working tirelessly in Engineering as he’s always done, I suppose I must do or say something to the man to let him know that, in my own way, his avatar does reciprocate this very… organic emotion.
Or at least I told Remiel as much when I asked him to spare my engineer for me.
Glancing at Dylan and indicating that I have other business to attend to, I exit Command and walk down the corridors, keeping in contact with my mainframe so that I am constantly aware of Harper’s whereabouts as I make my movements toward Engineering.
I’ve always wondered, but never asked anyone other than Harper, if the sounds of the gears in my extremities moving ever bother humans. I’m accustomed to the whooshing noises in my knees as I bend them, but do they ever bother anyone else? Do I sound as clunky as the maintenance bots used to, or is it just me?
Does the sound herald to people that I am anything more than I appear, which is a human female?
I turned the last corner and can see him now, humming some ancient Earth tune under his breath that I don’t have in my data banks as he’s working on maintaining my Slipstream core. I have moved close enough to him that I can feel the heat radiating off his skin with my sensors.
But I can tell he’s already aware of my presence, even before he turns around and looks at me with that lopsided grin of his. It’s evident in his body language and the way the pitch in his voice changes when he realizes he’s no longer alone in his working space. I wait, expecting him to say something, anything.
To my surprise, Harper stands there instead with his head tilted. For once, Harper has uncharacteristically decided that I, his avatar, should say something first.
It is at this point that my mainframe informs me that he’s just looked into the data recording of my conversations with Remiel while making sure there were no traces of the Balance of Judgment’s core personality, and he’s already aware of everything I said to Remiel while we share the same body.
I don’t have to tell Harper I love him, because he already knows it. And as I compute the ramifications of this, Harper starts chuckling.
Leave it to my creator to know what I’m doing before I do.
I cross the distance between us and hug him close enough so that I can rest my head on his shoulder. My sensors tell me his body temperature is rising now, and he’s moving just enough that his arms are around my shoulders, his fingers are smoothing down my hair. I can, with my olfactory sensors, smell the unique chemical signature that’s Harper coming off him, mixed with the soap from Afinity Atoll. I can detect and hear his heart rate rising slightly. And I can just feel a soft brush of his lips against the side of my neck before he pulls away to go back to work.
A week ago I would have wrung his neck for something like that. But today, I let it slide with a smile as I turn away. He knows I don’t want to kiss him back.
Not yet, anyway.