Charlie Down

From FembotWiki

Part 1 - Charlie Down

Charlie sat in the corner of the small hotel room, legs crossed over each other at the knee. Her eyes whirred slightly in their sockets as they shifted from looking down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap, to the figure laying in the bed. The mechanisms inside of her head that controlled the movements of what appeared to be pale blue and very realistic human eyes were whisper quiet. Charlie heard them only because the sensitive microphone assembly nestled deep down inside of her ears picked up the subtle vibrations of the miniature motors that moved her eyes.

She saw the shape of a man laying in the bed, breathing softly in the dark room. The blankets were pulled up to his neck and wrapped tightly around himself in an attempt to ward off the chilly night air. Charlie formed a small command in her operating system and sent it to the controller board inside of her head. Once there the command was accepted by the controller board and sent to her eyes where a small mechanism momentarily cut her vision and replaced it with a luminescent green of night vision. In an instant every small pin prick of light was suddenly a massive ball of glowing illumination. Her eyes scanned smoothly across the entirety of the room again, searching for anything at all. Anything out of place, anything new or any sign of movement that shouldn’t be there.

She saw nothing, just like she hadn’t seen anything the last twenty times she had made the same sweep. Blinking again and resetting the optical lens in her eyes she turned her attention back down to her hands in her lap.

Her left hand was facing palm up, her fingers comfortably curled into a relaxed position. Just below her wrist joint, in the soft flesh of her forearm, a roughly rectangular portion of her skin had been peeled back. There were a number of clear plastic ribs criss-crossing the underside of the skin and helping to retain the original shape of her forearm. Inside of her arm were a number of wires and mechanisms that looked entirely too complicated for any one person to know what every single one did. Charlie slipped her slender thumb and forefinger into the opening and pushed some blue tinted wiring out of the way in order to reach a larger central mechanism. She twisted and tightened something there, then moved her fingers in succession.

Charlie opened up an internal log file, and began to record her findings.

“Tuesday March 3th, 22:04:33 - Tightening the extensor coupling seems to have increased the response time and accuracy significantly. I’ll submit an official modification request once this assignment ends.”

She closed the log and set about pressing the flap of skin back into place. Each of the ribbed pieces needed to be pinched a little to squeeze it back into place before proceeding to the next. Once done, there was barely any indication that her flesh had been opened up at all, though there was still a seam there if you knew what to look for. So Charlie bent down from the chair she was sitting in and picked up a small dropper. Placing the nozzle on her wrist she squeezed a small amount of some kind of paste over her skin and, using her index finger, smoothed the substance along her wrist. It would seep into the seams and seal them.

Placing the dropper into a satchel on the ground she flexed her fingers one more time, smiled and then laced her fingers together behind her head. Her shoulder length light brown hair, usually pulled into a ponytail, was instead hanging in messy chunks around her head. Her hands pressed into her hair and she leaned back. Her systems initiated another sweep of the room as she reclined. Her eyes blinking once and then switching into night vision, slowly scanning the room for anything and everything and then returning to normal.

“Stop it.” A muffled male voice from the bed. It was clearly laced with groggy slurred wording.

Charlie’s head snapped up and her posture changed. A hand snapped to her hip where a holstered pistol clung tightly to her belt.

“What is it sir?” Charlie called into the darkness, her eyes already transitioned back into night vision as her optics scanned the area around the man in the bed.

“That.” Was the only response she got.

It relaxed her a bit. Her hand came away from her weapon, but she stood up. As she did, she straightened the plane white button up top she was wearing. It was tucked into her form fitting jeans, but it ruffled just enough to bother her as she stood.

“What?” She called back, eyes still darting around the room.

“Every time you turn on your night vision thing it makes this high pitched whine. It's annoying as hell. Stop it.” He said and then tossed his hand over to the other pillow and violently shoved it against his head.

Charlie stopped for a moment. Her programming demanded that she comply with his requests unless doing so would endanger him. The question was, did her night vision endanger him? It would certainly make it more challenging for her to sweep the room for threats, but not impossible. Lack of sleep though would likely make him a much more vulnerable target. In the end, her artificial intelligence decided to discontinue her night vision scans, and opted instead to enlarge the opening in her optical aperture and let more of the minimal amount of ambient light into her sensors.

“Sorry, sir. I’ll stop.” Charlie replied and sank down to the chair. Her eyes scanned left and right as the iris in her human-like eyes opened wider and allowed in as much of the limited amount of light as possible.

Charlie sat still in that chair until morning came. There were no disturbances in the night and her client didn’t wake up any more. An hour before his alarm was set to wake him up, Charlie silently stood from her chair and made her way across the hotel suite. There were two queen sized beds here, one was for her, but she preferred to post herself in a place where she had more visibility in the room. The suitcase of clothes she had brought, though, was the sole occupant of the second bed. She stepped up to it and unholstered her pistol and set it gently on the bed, easily within reach.

She unbuttoned her top, shedding it without shame and in full view of her client should he wake up. She didn’t mind, she was built for a number of duties, and looking attractive was an intentional choice. She had a number of companionship programs installed, though her client had thus far chosen not to indulge. Charlie wasn’t offended by that, not in the slightest. She was contracted to him to protect him first and foremost, and to accommodate his requests and desires if he voiced them.

She kept her bra on, black and lacy with a vague floral pattern. It was very much an intentional choice of attire for her. The cover story was that she and Conner were here on a business outing. He was a wealthy socialite and Charlie was presented as his personal assistant. While Charlie preferred something more comfortable and tactical, in public she had to dress the part. Unbuckling her belt and wiggling out of her jeans revealed a mismatched pair of plaid panties. She didn’t feel the need to change her undergarments at the moment, so they remained on.

She spent the next few minutes taking out sleek black slacks and a matching jacket. A new crisp white shirt and a pair of heels. Slipping into the shirt and slacks she buckled a faux leather belt in place. Before she adorned her matching black blazer she wiggled her way into a tight shoulder harness and holstered a smaller pistol just under her breast. Once the jacket was in place, even without buttoning it, the shoulder rig was nearly impossible to see. Finally she slipped into the heels, the one piece of the outfit she was not pleased about wearing.

Balance, for a machine like her, was crucial, but also took up an immense amount of her processing power. To a human, balance was all about feeling. A human could sense when they were starting to tilt to one side and could correct that imbalance without lending a single conscious thought to it. Robots, like Charlie, on the other hand, were forced to use math. She had to rely on the optics implanted in her head, the numerous data points from her feet and legs, and internal gyroscopes to help her know when she was beginning to tilt one way or the other. All the data had to be passed to a system designed specifically for balance related issues, analyzed, and a solution calculated and passed back to her operating system. What’s more, it all had to be done incredibly quickly, nearly instantaneously if possible, because the entire situation could change in a moment.

Walking was the easiest, it was, to put it bluntly, predictable. Charlie’s eyes took in the area around and in front of her, and her operating system could make predictions based on what was coming up. It could pre-calculate some of the balance issues and formulate a walk cycle to compensate for it.

High heels made all of those compensations, calculations, and predictions so much more complicated.

The smallest imperfection in the way the foot came down, or an odd angle on the pavement, or any number of other unpredictable circumstances could completely throw off an android’s balance in heels. There were still programs and protocols in place to try formulating those predictions, but it was so difficult. Charlie herself had actually worn nothing but high heels for almost two weeks before this assignment in an attempt to allow her artificial mind and body time to “get used” to wearing them. In reality it was an exercise in feeding her operating system as much data ahead of time as possible so that small blocks of code could be prewritten to try and compensate for the majority of situations.

Regardless, Charlie knew that the world was an unpredictable place, and as she held the heels between her index and middle finger, she knew that this was just one more element of chaos that she would tangle with. She sighed, a purely social response from her and one that her human emulation software had pre-loaded long ago. She balanced on one foot, brought her knee up and pointed her toes and slipped on one of the heels. She contemplated repeating the maneuver for the other shoe, but decided against it. She turned around and lowered herself to a sitting position on the end of the bed, brought her foot up and slipped on the other high heel.

“You look good.”

The muttered response from the bed wasn’t unexpected, but Charlie snapped her head over to the bed anyway. The smirking face of Conner was peeking out from under the pillow.

“How long have you-”

“About ten minutes. Long enough to get an eyeful that’s for sure.”

Charlie’s lips pressed together into a thin line and the very faintest of pink blushes touched her cheeks. The early morning light concealed the redness well enough, but Charlie was acutely aware of what process was running and knew the pigment modifiers were running. She couldn’t do anything to stop them, she had a lot of control over her own body and how it operated, but some things she was simply not allowed to control.

“You should have said something, I would have done a little dance.” Charlie said, standing from the bed and stepping lightly over to Conner’s bed. She was about to lower herself down to the sheets and lie down with him, when he suddenly reached up, grasped the pillow and flung it at her.

Her optics picked it up and easily calculated the trajectory, and she could have easily dodged it, but the heels on her feet were a concern. In a flash her operating system had put together all the pieces and decided that it would be so much better to be hit in the face with a pillow, than tumble to the floor because of a misstep.

The soft pillow did, in fact, impact her face. Charlie took the opportunity to change her facial expression to a dispassionate, almost annoyed expression. There was a hint of playfulness there, but it was immensely subtle.

“Are you done?” She asked.

“I swear, one of these days I’ll get you to laugh.” Conner replied, pushing himself up to a sitting position.

He was shirtless, preferring to sleep only in his pajama pants. The signs of a lifetime of wealth were evident on him. He had the money for a personal trainer and a dietitian to ensure that he was in peak physical health. He wasn’t well muscled like a bodybuilder or even one of the frat boys that spent their days in the gym. Instead, there was a healthy fitness to him. The kind of look that made someone assume that all he had to do was flex the right way and his muscles would pop.

Conner stretched his arms above his head and yawned, arching his back and letting the previous night of relaxation melt away. Charlie watched him, raising an eyebrow as she did so and wondered idly if he was attempting to impress her. Not that he needed to. She knew that he had read the contract when she had been assigned to him. He knew what he could ask for, what he could demand and what was expected of her. If he had really wanted a night of pure lustful carnal pleasures, all he had to do was say so and she would have. It was in her programming, she was equipped for it, and she would have likely enjoyed it just as much as he would.

She wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t requested that. She was used to, even expected it, from most of her assignments. She had been rented out a number of times before and this was the first time that her charge hadn’t requested it. She wasn’t upset about it, she had no ego to stroke, it was just a curious data point to her, and something she might consider analyzing once her job was done.

“You’ll make me laugh when you do something worth laughing about. Now get out of bed, you have an investors meeting at nine.” Charlie said, placing her hands on her hips and mocking a scowl at him.

“Yes mother. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” Conner shot back, pulling the blankets over his head.

Charlie smirked and shook her head. Conner was fun, very witty, and in general just a good guy. Charlie had a hard time reconciling his charm and his good looks with his lack of a steady girlfriend. He hadn’t made any kind of move to utilize Charlie for her more intimate capabilities, and from the brief historical searches she had done on him, there was no woman, or man for that matter, in his life. He was single and happy to remain so. It wasn’t uncommon, but any time Charlie happened upon a person who was content in solitude, it always seemed so out of place.

Conner finally threw off the comforter and rolled out of bed properly. True to form he was only wearing his pajama bottoms, which, after a moment of stretching and twisting, were promptly pulled off. Charlie, following programmed behavior, averted her eyes and instead took a moment to turn away and scan the room for any new threats or changes. Meaning she didn’t see Conner look over his shoulder in her direction with a mischievous smirk. He glanced in her direction just in time to see her turning away and was unable to actually catch her eye, a fact that turned his smirk into a pair of disappointed pursed lips.

Conner let out a small, soft sigh and set about getting himself dressed. Investor meetings were by far the least exciting part of this trip. There was a very good reason he had requested that the location be some place with nice beaches and a vibrant nightlife. Where was the fun in writing off a few thousand dollars in company funds for a trip if he couldn’t have a great steak and some fun on the town. Investor meetings also meant he had to dress the part, which meant a suit and worse, a tie.

“I don’t get how people can wear these things every damn day.” He commented aloud to Charlie, prompting her to venture a glance over her shoulder at him.

He was dressed, mostly, sporting at least pants and an untucked shirt. He was holding up a tie and sneering at it with disgust.

“They’re like wearing a noose everywhere.”

“They also make a very good hand hold to grab someone and gain an advantage in a combat scenario.” Charlie confirmed, making Conner look from her down to the tie and then back to her.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Conner muttered.

“Just doing my job, sir.”

“Are you going to make me order you to call me Conner?”

Charlie turned around, placing a single hand on her hip and letting out a sigh. She wasn’t used to her clients being so casual with her. She was built and programmed for only two things, protection and sex, the two most requested services from the budding android industry. Casual conversation, jokes, and the broad category of “companionship” wasn’t something she was ill equipped for, but it was a non-standard set of skills.

“No, sir. Conner will be fine.” Charlie said, politely.

“Good enough. You know how to tie one of these things?” Conner said, holding up the tie, and Charlie nodded in return while raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Good, come help me, I always have to look up a guide on these stupid things.”

A small smile quirked up at the corner of Charlie’s lips. She carefully walked around the beds to stand in front of Conner. She fully relied on her balance programming to take the lion's share of her walk cycle calculations. Once there, she had to take one step just a little closer to Conner, putting him well within arms reach. She took the tie and leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, taking the silky fabric of the tie with her. It was a simple knot that she ended up tying, but for the few moments that she was intimately close with Conner, she could sense his warm breath wafting across her, exhaled from his nose. She noticed and compensated for all of his little sways and fidgets as he stood as still as he could, letting her work. She even noticed that, while he had every right to take in her beauty, he looked solidly up at the ceiling while she worked.

“There. Nothing fancy, but good enough.” Charlie said and took a measured step back, allowing Conner to look down at the tie dangling from around his neck and nodded in approval.

“Certainly better than I could manage. Thanks Charlie.”

Charlie nodded in return and let Connor get back to tucking in his shirt and fastening a belt on.

“Is there anything I should know about this meeting? Any topics that a personal aid, like myself, might have knowledge of? Any topics that are going to ruffle feathers and prompt someone to try and gun you down?” Charlie asked, settling down on the end of her bed.

“Nothing quite so thrilling I’m afraid. I’m chairman of a group of directors trying to get a new oil pipeline installed. I’m required to be at the meeting as an investor, but everyone will mostly be talking stock options, logistics, blah blah.” Conner said with a wave of his hand. “Nothing much to worry about really.”

“I see.” There was a moment of silence as Conner smoothed out his shirt and began to slip into a matching suit jacket. “Can I ask you something then?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Why contract a military grade android as a bodyguard if you’re so unconcerned about this meeting?” Charlie asked, looking over towards Conner.

“Hippies with shotguns.” Was the simple reply.

“You think someone will try and intercept you on the way in?”

“I think people know who I am. People know I like to have fun and see the sights and indulge in the locations I visit. And I think that gives people the opportunity to take their shot at someone they see as harmful to the environment.” Conner explained.

“I see. So you needed someone with bullet proof skin to step in between you and the folks who are trying to save the earth.” Charlie said, completely deadpan.

“Well..when you say it like that it makes it-” Conner’s voice took on a defensive tone.

“I’m joking, you know. Androids are capable of humor and satire these days.” Charlie interrupted and smirked at Conner, who was, at the moment, gobsmacked. “That’s one for me and zero for you. Come on, get your shoes on. You can crack jokes at me and try and even the score in the elevator.”

The investors meeting was, as Conner had rightly predicted, incredibly boring. Charlie was grateful that all she needed to do was simply sit near Conner and scan the room for threats. The meeting was held in a conference room in a hotel several blocks from the hotel Conner had booked for the two of them. Conner had initially wondered why they couldn’t just book a room in the same hotel as the conference and Charlie’s answer had been simple enough. Every other investor was staying in the same hotel as the conference, and if there was going to be any kind of trouble it would happen where the majority of targets were concentrated. By moving to an isolated location she could secure the area more easily and put him out of harm's way.

It was one of those reasons that, once hearing it, made so much more sense. Granted there was still an element of danger as she had to ensure he was safe when moving from the hotel to a car and vice versa, not to mention the playboy nightlife Conner had anticipated in his stay. That, however, was a concern for Charlie to take on when the time came. For now, she was content to listen to a room full of mostly old men talking with lawyers about litigations on cases that might block their project, profit margins and annual numbers.

The meeting concluded some nine hours later, around six in the evening. Conner looked like he had been put through the ringer. His constant yawning and the developing bags under his eyes were indication enough that he was likely ready to call it a night. However once the two crawled into the car and the door was closed, Conner flopped back into the seat, loosened his tie and smiled over at Charlie.

“So, dinner?”

Charlie looked over at him and began running scenarios in her operating system. There was a low chance of someone taking a crack at him while in a public and crowded space with lots of cameras and witnesses. It wasn’t a completely safe move, but it was acceptable.

“Oh Conner, I never thought you’d ask. Take me somewhere nice.” Charlie said, pressing her hand against her chest.

“For you sweetie, anything.” Conner shot back and the two shared a moment of laughter.

Charlie could have stopped the laughter with a single command. All of the social programming that came through her systems needed to be approved by her A.I. and laughing at the silliness of the situation was no different. After the kind of boring day they had had though, she knew it was the best option. Conner pumped his fist and laughed all the more, commenting about how he had finally gotten Charlie to laugh. Charlie left the mischievous smirk on her face and commented that she merely let it happen and to not let it go to his head.

Dinner was, as promised, lovely. They dined at an upscale Italian place and the two had plenty of wine, food, laughter and conversation. The atmosphere was, in a word, romantic and Charlie was very sure that a number of the patrons there thought the attractive couple were out on some kind of upscale date night. Conner was convinced that there were some people there who recognized him and couldn’t wait for the tabloids to proclaim that he had taken on a mistress of some kind. He didn’t care, and while Charlie suspected that the same thing might be a possibility, she was somewhat immune to the controversy.

Charlie wasn’t a real person, regardless of how much she looked and acted like a real person, there was no paperwork anywhere that made it so. She was a machine, nothing more, and nothing less. So While some might have attempted to search for her identity in order to either target her or more likely get a juicy story, they wouldn’t find one. She didn’t exist outside of her intended use. Conversations, protection, the occasional night of sex, and that was it. If the company that contracted her services saw fit, they could even go as far as disassembling her completely and pouring her A.I. into a new body.

None of that was likely to happen though. After several hours of frustrated searching tabloid reporters would either give up, or more likely, discover that she was a body guard android and throw their hands up in frustration. There was no scandal to be found in that.

Conner and Charlie spent almost two hours in the restaurant, laughing and drinking and trading stories. Moreover, Conner got his opportunity to question Charlie about his own curiosities. From their somewhat secluded corner booth, emboldened by a few glasses of wine, Conner began to ask the questions he had had burning in his mind since he signed Charlie’s contract.

“So, answer me this, you’re a robot right?” Conner began.

Charlie, knowing just how much wine he had already consumed, was ready for a slurred string of awkward questions. Conner was a good man, and there was little worry about him doing something truly embarrassing.

“I’d prefer it if you kept that a little more quiet, but yes, I am fully robotic.” Charlie answered with a smile.

“Do you remember being built and stuff? Like I can remember my childhood, but you don’t have that?”

“No, I don’t have a childhood. I have access to the footage of my assembly if I wanted it, but I’ve never really had much interest in seeing it. I mean, would you want to see the home video of your own birth?” Charlie replied.

“God no, good point.”

Charlie smirked, raised her wine glass and tipped it towards him in a ‘cheers’ kind of motion.

“Are you able to make choices for yourself? Or is it all just programmed responses?”

“Oh, we’re getting philosophical now?” Charlie asked after taking a small sip of her wine. She had an internal storage tank, but didn’t want to fill it up too much, it would need to be cleaned out after all.

“No no, not like that. But like, you can choose your own contracts and jobs and stuff, right?” Conner slurred.

Charlie shrugged one shoulder and tilted her head to the side a bit before answering.

“Sure, I can turn down assignments that I feel I’m not really a good fit for, but the company that owns me does assign me to tasks and I’m compelled to do them unless my A.I. has a really good reason to say otherwise.”

Charlie squinted a little at Conner.

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well, you’ve just been really good company, and I’ve got a lot more board meetings to attend in the next few years. I just thought I might request you specifically more often.” Conner replied.

“That’s certainly an option.” Charlie confirmed.

“You ever thought about doing something else? Other than contract work?” Conner continued.

“Like what?” Charlie asked with a small chuckle. “I promise you I will flunk out of clown college.”

“No, like private work. You know, like what you do now but for just one fun loving guy?”

The statement took a moment to bounce around inside of Charlie’s artificial mind and process through whatever collection of systems combined to resemble a mind inside of her. She had actually thought about going into private security, but everyone who was ever interested in it would never fit the kind of person Charlie wanted to spend the rest of her existence with. They were all assholes who needed someone to body check reporters out of the way. Conner though, Conner was different. He would have been a lot of fun to spend time with, and she could very much see herself enjoying any assignment she was given that involved him. He wasn’t too hard on the eyes either, and she assumed that an intimate relationship would form not shortly after. If she took him up on the offer, if there was an offer…

“I’ve considered it. But I’ve been in operation for a few years now and my model is likely to be outdated in the next few years. So, it’s probably not a great investment for anyone.” Charlie commented truthfully. There would be newer, faster, and more efficient models in the months to come. She could still easily compete, but she knew that sooner or later she would be taken apart, refurbished and sold to some collector.

“So what you’re saying is that you need to find someone who has more money than sense?”

That got a genuine chuckle from Charlie. She tucked some of her spikey, ruffled hair behind her ear and nodded a little.

“Something like that.”

The silence that fell between the two of them stretched onward for too long. Charlie didn’t mind at all, she had plenty to do while she waited for Conner to collect himself. She was constantly scanning the room for anything she deemed dangerous. Like always, there was little to notice. It was made easier as the night dragged on and fewer people were occupying the restaurant. Without another word Conner tugged out his wallet and passed his credit card to a passing waitress and told her to close them out.

The hotel was only a few blocks away, and the evening was far too nice to not stroll along the sidewalks. There were so few people out that even Charlie agreed that there was little chance of there being any kind of confrontation. Still, Charlie’s stark blue optics swept the area around them as they walked.

They were perhaps a block away from the hotel as the night grew thick with darkness and cold air. Charlie was quietly listening to Conner ramble loudly about how boring the day had been and how tomorrow wasn’t about to be any better. Charlie smiled along with him, but that changed in a flash as four men appeared behind them from the alleyway between buildings.

The first bullet, something small caliber, slammed into the back of Charlie’s head. The impact tossed her head forward, but the kevlar laced flesh along her scalp stopped the bullet from doing any kind of internal damage, though it did leave a hefty dent in the back of her head and blow off a tuft of her light brown hair. In an instant she spun around, her own pistol in hand and her optics took in the situation.

“Shit! It’s a bot!” one of them called in a panic.

Charlie leveled the weapon on him first. Even though she was only a machine, there were laws in place that allowed her to retaliate with like force when either her continued operation or the life of a human was on the line, this situation handily included both. Charlie’s operating system slammed into a combat centered code base and it took effect in an instant. Her finger pulled the trigger of her own sidearm twice in seamless succession. The first round pierced her attacker's chest, right about where the heart would be and the second hit him in the face. The remainder of the crew of would-be assassins began to flee. Though one of them took the opportunity to pop out from the alley, using his falling compatriot as a shield and get off a single round from his shotgun before darting back for cover.

Charlie didn’t have a clear shot of the second gunman, and it quickly became apparent that she wouldn’t get her opportunity. She saw them fleeing and her head swiveled over her shoulder to look for Conner who had dove behind a car parked at the sidewalk and was cowering there. His face was illuminated by a sudden burst of light, and Charlie looked back at the alley way, only to find it empty. There was another burst of light, though smaller this time.

“Are you ok Conner?” Charlie asked, stepping gently backward towards him, never lowering her gun.

“Yeah I’m fine, but you-”

“I’m fine.” She assured him.

“But you were-” Conner began again

“I’m fine.” Charlie repeated, the exact tone and inflection were unchanged. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

Charlie holstered her firearm, but left her suit coat open for ease of access. The two moved wordlessly for the remainder of the block they had been walking along. Charlie kept the pace quick and crisp until the door to Conner’s room clicked and latched behind them.

“Are you hurt?” Charlie asked, noticing that there was another flash of light coming from somewhere, but Conner was her primary concern at the moment, her operating system shunted everything else to a lower priority.

“I’m good, but you..are- are you okay?” Conner asked, his eyes traveling from her face downward.

“It’s going to take more than a bullet to the back of my head to take me out.” Charlie assured him, her tone light, almost joking.

“Yeah but, what about that?” Conner asked, leveling a finger towards her side.

“Huh?”

Charlie hadn’t registered the additional damage. Her operating system had already recategorized her processes. She was disposable, and damage to her was secondary to protecting Conner. But now that the threat was gone, she had more of an opportunity to assess the actual damage.

The scraps of her once white shirt and black jacket were shredded and tattered now. They were blocking a large portion of the actual damage to her body though. No matter how she craned her neck she couldn’t get a good view of the actual damage. She shed the jacket immediately, tossing it on her bed, followed by the shoulder harness. She didn’t waste time unbuttoning her shirt, instead she curled her fingers into the buttons and pulled it open with a mechanically enhanced strength. It left her in her slacks and her bra, but it allowed her to better see what had happened.

The shotgun blast had sent buckshot ripping through her torso, just above the left hip. The gunman had missed almost all of her truly vital components, which explained to Charlie why she was damaged at all. The kevlar enhanced flesh she was equipped with was only reserved for covering the components she needed to continue operating. The attack had hit her where some of her secondary controller boards were housed. If the primary systems had failed, she would be in real trouble, but these were easily replaced.

She put a hand into her torso through the opening there, and felt around for a moment. She was tracing several thick black and red cables that had been severed and were sparking sporadically back to their source. Charlie ended up bending weirdly in order to allow her to get the angle just right, but she had found where the cables plugged into a circuitry sub-system inside of her. She tugged twice to get the cable free and then pulled it out of her damaged torso.

“There. That should stop the spar-sparking.” Charlie stuttered “Fuck.”

“What? What is it?” Conner asked as he watched her drop the frayed bundle of wires to the ground.

“Nothing, it’s just an expensive fix, and my OS is chugging through all the errors. All the errors. And it’s causing some lag. Some lag. On my vocal output-cal output.” Charlie sighed. “Sorry.”

“B-but you’re okay?” Conner asked, the concern was genuine in his voice.

“Yeah fine. The dumb ass hit me in a weird place, nothing that can’t be replaced-replced when I get back-get back.” Charlie let out an exasperated sigh. “Once these errors clear-errors clear I’ll be much better.”

“O-Oh..Okay. Good..uh..thank you.” Conner said, taking a step forward, never taking his eyes off of the damage in her torso.

“Take a picture-a picture. It’ll last longer-longer.”

“Sorry, I just, I’ve never actually seen, you know, in-inside of one of you. Er a robot.” Conner blushed, hating himself for lumping Charlie in with the myriad of androids he had worked with in the past. He could tell she was something unique, which was why he planned to make a bid to buy her from the contract company. He liked her not just because she was gorgeous, but funny, and kind, a little sassy, and an enjoyable date.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. About it. I’m almost done here. Just a few more. Few more. More. Few more. To go.”

There was another small spark, followed by a sizzling sound coming from inside of Charlie’s body. Somewhere in her hips and Charlie rolled her eyes.

“Now what.” She muttered.

Her hands were on her belt, her fingers responding sluggishly as her operating system processed the self check, error messages and a number of body breech alerts. It took a little work, but she unfastened the belt before sighing again and lowering herself to the edge of Conner’s bed.

“Help a girl out? Girl out? Out?” Charlie asked, nodding down to the zipper on her slacks.

Conner swallowed hard, and began to work on her zipper. He wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline, or something else that was causing his fingers to tremble. Probably a combination of both. In the end though, he managed to undo her pants as Charlie watched. More accurately, she was only facing him. Internally she wasn’t paying him much attention. She had taken a lot of systems offline to help speed things along. Social responses, balance programming, constant self checks, and small parts of her human emulation were all offline for now. Once the error state was cleared she would bring everything back online and let her operating system figure out what did and did not need to be fully reengaged.

Conner tugged the slacks down Charlie’s legs, revealing her shapely thighs and eventually her calves and then they were in a heap on the floor. Charlie’s operating system detected the removal of her pants and reengaged a small part of her social programming.

“Panties too, I need to see what’s going on in there.” Charlie commented before retreating back and shutting down her social programming. She was now fully into a more minimalized mode, something more robotic. She was attempting to repair herself more than conform to a social dynamic.

Conner eyed her for only a moment before pulling the simple cotton, plaid panties she wore. Once they were off Conner only had a moment to observe Charlie’s perfectly crafted sex. Smooth and hairless, and, from Conner’s recollection, just about the most idealized version of what a woman’s sex should be.

Charlie blinked once and adjusted her head mechanically down to look at her crotch. Her eyes were not blinking and Conner noticed that she didn’t seem to be breathing either. Conner sat back on the ground next to the pile of Charlie’s discarded clothes. He watched as Charlie’s hands came to rest just above her slit, then pushed into her skin hard, and then pushed downward. Her vaginal module slipped forward, gliding out from between her legs. Once Charlie had pushed it out an inch or two, she readjusted and grasped the end of it, pulling it outward rather than pushing. Once the mechanism had slipped out a few more inches Charlie blinked rapidly again, seeming to regain some of her more natural facial expressions.

“Little scorching, but nothing that would stop it from working.” Charlie commented, her eyes clicking in their sockets to glance at Conner for a brief moment before returning to her nude and disassembled sex. She saw that Conner’s eyes were glued to her, and smirked a little. She gently pushed the module back into her body until it clicked into place.

Charlie’s OS had finished clearing the torrent of errors and warnings from the log files and she was returning to a more normalized operation. Though, there was something not quite right with her software. They say that trauma does strange things to people, and perhaps Charlie had seen enough trauma to integrate part of that into her A.I. but there was something about seeing her exposed and damaged circuitry in her side. The severed and frayed bundle of cables laying on the ground, and the fact that she had just ejected and reinserted her own vaginal assembly. All of it culminated in something that she hadn’t really expected.

She found her sexual programming loading and connecting to the reconnected sexual unit. There was a small snap from inside of her hips somewhere that seemed to shake Conner from his stupor. The same small spark only drove Charlie on though, she bit lightly into her lower lip and let a soft sensual sigh slip out of her lips. She wasn’t specifically programmed to pursue something intimate with her clients, but Charlie and Conner were there, she was naked, and she could easily infer that his heart rate was probably out of control. Conner had adrenaline and hormones coursing through him the same way that Charlie had somehow loaded her sexual programming.

Their eyes met for only a moment after the sigh and Conner knew, somehow, that Charlie was begging for him. He would be lying to himself and everyone around him if he said he hadn’t wanted to explore Charlie like this. Conner had been flirtatious and fun while they were together, he didn’t want to simply order her to crawl into bed with him, it made him feel like he was taking a shortcut in a relationship. He had spent his life earning his rewards, and Charlie was no different. She was an object, sure. A machine that would follow orders as they were given, but Conner didn’t want that, he wanted something more genuine.

Conner looked into those sky blue, oddly piercing, and wildly lust filled eyes. Her hands were moving away from her sex and towards him. They wrapped around his neck and pulled him forward even as she dipped low and brought her lips to meet his. There was a thrilling explosion of lust, intimacy, concern and a myriad of other emotions coursing through Conner. He pushed himself to his feet purely out of concern for Charlie. The last thing he wanted was for her to pop another component or overtax her back bending forward to kiss him. Charlie tilted her head upwards, her lips never leaving Conner’s, and inserted her tongue along the way, a welcome addition Conner noted.

As he stood, the kiss deepening with passion, he also noticed the slightly jittery presence of Charlie’s fingers working his belt buckle and then his zipper. She was being awfully forward for a machine that was programmed to follow orders. But maybe she was. He certainly hadn’t given an order for this, not that he was going to stop it, but he had a wandering thought that perhaps something had short circuited in whatever constituted a brain inside of Charlie’s head when she was shot. Either way, he wasn’t about to stop this.

Conner’s pants and boxers fell from his waist and he took the opportunity to kick off his shoes. He was glad he did, because Charlie broke this kiss, smirking with nearly angelic ethereal beauty, took his tie in her hands and then fell backwards. Conner was practically yanked out of his shoes and slacks, leaving him half naked, and comfortably nestled in between Charlie’s thighs.

“See, ties are just the worst.” Charlie cooed into Conner’s ear just moments before she nibbled playfully on his earlobe. The bite sent a jolt through Conner that he wasn’t entirely convinced wasn’t an actual electrical charge from Charlie.

Conner raised his head, letting out a soft groan and inviting Charlie to nibble and kiss her way across his throat and down towards his chest. Conner took this time to orient himself properly now and allowed one of his hands to find its way to Charlie’s chest. At the same time he felt her surprisingly warm slender fingers wrap around his shaft. He was usually so much more aware of his own arousal, he was almost more surprised at how hard he had become without his knowledge. Conner delighted in the feeling of charlie’s breast though, he had expected it to be hard, like a molded plastic mound, but even covered by her bra, it felt so real.

Charlie wrapped one arm around Conner’s neck and hoisted herself up a bit, allowing her to release Conner’s cock and work, instead on undoing her bra. It didn’t take much work, she was a machine and precision was one of her greatest strengths. She dropped back to the bed below her, letting out a delighted squeal as she did so and flashing a wide, genuine smile up at Conner. He took his chance and wiggled his hand under the bra and over her breast. Even as he began to playfully toy with Charlie’s nipple, he felt the tip of his manhood being guided gently into place. The tip of which was just reaching her moist, synthetic folds.

Conner didn’t usually have to be told something twice, there was an invitation and he took it.

Conner’s hips thrust forward without hesitation and he found himself plunging deep inside of Charlie. It was her turn to let her head fall back, and Conner could swear there was just a little bit of a static tinge in her voice. He wasn’t sure why, but that somehow made things more arousing to him. He pulled back and thrust inside of her again and again and again. His hands were on her, all of her. He spent long minutes fondling her breasts with wild, greedy abandon. He felt her nipple pucker under his palms, he felt the warmth of her artificial skin below his body, and he felt the warm wetness inside of her.

Her groans sounded so perfectly human, too. Despite the vocal distortion that arose from time to time, and the occasionally repeated phrase or sound, Conner found it all to somehow enhance his experience. Conner even found himself looking down at her hip, the shredded skin there and the exposed internal components sliding and moving. They were damaged, for sure, but somehow still graceful. It gave Conner a unique glance into Charlie that only confirmed how well built and well engineered she truly was.

The pair rolled around in bed for the next hour. Sometimes Charlie was gleefully mounted on top of Conner, bouncing up and down on his shaft. Each bounce jiggled her body in new, sensual ways, and the sound of some kind of motor system in her hips whined loud enough for Conner to hear it every time. Sometimes Conner would toss her down and push her legs wide open and allow himself back into her. Both would moan and groan happily with every move.

In the end though, Conner couldn’t contain himself any more and unloaded himself inside of Charlie. At the same moment she arched her back and let out one long cry. She balled up the bed sheets in her fists and wrapped her long lithe legs around Conner. He felt himself pulled into her, just a little deeper, and her legs held him tight against her. He let one more lustful burst go inside of her before he fell forward, panting and only barely catching himself on his hands. The pair looked into each other's eyes and leaned into a kiss.

The rest of the evening was a much more formal and boring affair. Charlie and Conner cuddled up with each other in bed while the afterglow remained, but Charlie was the one who broke away. She would have to make a report of the event this evening and the police would need to take her statement. It was an easy process of her simply copying log data and video feeds to an SD card to hand off to them, but there were protocols to be followed. So the pair left the soft warmth of the bed and began getting dressed.

Conner returned to his slacks and white shirt, though he removed the tie and tossed it into his suitcase. Charlie donned a pair of form fitting denim jeans and boots, with a matching blue shirt with a tan tank top over the top. She bundled together her hair, wild and frizzed out from the sexual encounter, into a ponytail on top of her head. It conveniently covered the dent in the back of her skull where the first bullet had struck, and also exposed the port where the authorities would insert their secure SD card into her systems for a data transfer.

The remainder of the trip had been called off in light of the events. Board meetings would be done virtual going forward until the entire deal had been settled and the pipeline construction was under way. Charlie stayed with Conner for the remainder of his time though. Though he was booked on a flight for the next morning, Charlie didn’t take up her usual perch on the chair in the corner of the room, and instead crawled under the blankets with Conner. Her reasoning was that her skin was bullet proof so she was able to transpose herself between the door and Conner should anything else happen. Conner didn’t argue.

At the airport the pair shook hands professionally and Conner once again thanked her for everything. There was a small twinkle in his eye and a quirked up corner of his mouth. She knew what he meant. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise when she returned to her contract agency for repairs and found a few documents waiting for her on their internal network. She dismissed them, thinking that they were forms to fill out about the incident and perhaps another assignment for her to evaluate.

Her repairs were quick. Her hips hadn’t sustained much damage, and the wiring and controller board were easily replaced. Replacing the flesh along her side was more hassle than any parts that needed to be worked on. It required the entire half of her torso, from hips to collar bone to be replaced with a new, single slab of skin. Her sexual unit wasn’t damaged enough to be a concern, though the IT crew extracted it and replaced it regardless. Her hair piece needed to be replaced as well as the back of her skull cap. No internal damages were found, but Charlie had to have her head disconnected and taken offline with the technicians carefully examining her inner workings and evaluating them.

It was almost a full week before she had the opportunity to be fully reassembled and online enough to read the documentation that was left for her. They were not, in fact, assignments or forms to fill in. It was an offer to buy out her contract signed by Conner himself. The entire document was a long legal tirade that Charlie actually took the time to read and understand. It laid out an offer to buy her wholesale from the company she was contracted to at the moment, with addendums added to include equipment needed for ongoing security measures, repair costs, parts, labor, updates as well as a proposal for future hardware and software replacements in order to keep Charlie operating in top shape. There was another note added to the legal document, it was short, and simple.

“The offer has no end date. I’d hate to see you become obsolete, and I’ve got all this money and little sense.”

It was hand signed by Conner.

Charlie wasn’t entirely shocked by it, but she found herself smiling at it.

“More money than sense. He’s not wrong.” Charlie muttered and stood up from her desk.

Part 2 - Charlie Foxtrot

Slap

“Good morning twinsie, ready for a vacation?”

Charlie didn’t flinch when the thick stack of papers, a contract, slapped onto her small desk. Android’s were hard to startle. Charlie had been looking over the report from her last client, letting her artificial intellect digest the information there in hopes that if another situation like it arose that she could be better prepared. The information would be read, converted into some kind of usable file by her computerized mind and then tagged with dozens upon dozens of metadata tags and stored. Later when she would settle down for a maintenance session her A.I. would crunch those entries into new program blocks for later use.

She hadn’t seen agent Foxtrot stepping up to her desk, not that it mattered, she wouldn’t have looked up any way. Foxtrot leaned against Charlie’s desk lifting one leg and half sitting, half standing there. Her free arm resting on her elevated knee as she nudged the stack of papers closer to Charlie. Charlie looked up and piqued an eyebrow at her redheaded colleague.

“Vacation? I don’t recall reading that in the onboarding packet.” Charlie said, pulling the papers to herself and beginning to look over them.

“Bora Bora?” Charlie questioned as she flipped through the contract details, and then her eyes stopped on the name of the client. She looked up at Foxtrot and raised an eyebrow in concern.

“Damaso Corbet? The pacific shark? He wants to hire us?” Charlie muttered with an air that practically oozed disgust.

“The money is good, and he isn’t technically a criminal.” Foxtrot offered.

“Yet” Charlie added. There were enough allegations and court cases to fill a book, but none of them stuck because there was too little evidence.

Foxtrot sighed, dramatically, letting her head fall forward enough to dislodge her long red hair from behind her ear and let it fall into her face. She pulled it up and tossed it over her shoulder before giving Charlie a sidelong glance. She tucked her thumbs into the denim loops on her jeans and hopped down from Charlie’s desk. Her combat boot clomping on the floor as she landed.

“Listen, I want you on this assignment with me. The only other unit who even comes close is November-”

Charlie snorted at that.

“-Exactly.” Foxtrot concluded.

Charlie dipped her head down and let it rest on her knuckles, letting it smoosh her cheek up a little. She glanced down at the contract again. Damasco was a sleazy gang boss. Not quite the mob, not quite a criminal syndicate, just someone who had gotten lucky. There were a number of pacific pirate rings that broadly operated under his banner. Everyone knew it was him, but there was no hard evidence that pointed directly to him. Probably because he operated in shell companies and buried or bribed any paper trail so deep that it would never again see the light of day.

Charlie hated him, he was the kind of person she expected to hire them only because he wanted to make a show of how powerful he was. He could contact any number of mercenary groups, most had similar models of defense units, most were half the price Charlie’s company would charge. But if he had the money for it, why not get the best, most expensive, and highest rated protection money could buy. Because he was planning to get attacked and didn’t care what happened to Charlie, Foxtrot, or anyone else they sent. As long as they took a bullet for him, it would be money well spent.

There were a lot of zeros in the contract though. That kind of funding would go a long way.

“Fine. I’ll do it. When do we deploy?” Charlie said at length, as she did Foxtrot squealed a little with excitement.

“Oh three hundred. Contract starts tomorrow at seventeen hundred.” Foxtrot blurted and scooped up the contract. As soon as she had Charlie’s internal message system alerted her to a new message. It was the digital contract for her to sign. She stamped it with her signature in the dozen or so places that it was required and pushed back from her desk. She tossed one last glance down at the smaller stack of papers there. The report from her last assignment, and just below it the offer letter offering to buy out the remainder of her service in favor of moving to a private security for one rich, senseless man.

It was an outlandish offer. She could be contracted for every event for the rest of his life and it would still probably be cheaper than buying her out of her service here. She shook her head, not understanding the why. She chalked it up to a thing humans did, and psychology. Her and her last contract had been through some trauma together and she had ensured his safety at her own expense. She took damage from a shotgun to save him. That kind of thing made humans sentimental, thinking that it was done for them, rather than just a machine doing what it was programmed to do.

As Charlie walked towards the maintenance bay for her configuration adjustments for her contract, she contemplated all of it. She had been very up front about what she would and would not do in the line of duty, why hadn’t he understood that. Sure they had some fun banter, and he seemed fun, but it wasn’t like Charlie liked him. She shook her head, attempting to shake the line of logic from her head. It was just logical, the numbers lined up, so why shouldn’t she take the buyout?

Because it would mean she belonged to someone, instead of belonging to an organization. The answer bubbled up from a combination of her social programming and her artificial mind. It was quickly truncated, she had work to do.

The maintenance bay was an absolutely massive portion of the facility. A small portion was for refitting androids with gear and augmentations that they needed for assignments. Since the majority of their duties involved the same kind of work, the most regularly requested modules were readily available. All of them were prefabricated and would fit on the android's body using standard port configurations and joints. Charlie’s field of vision popped up with information as soon as she stepped over the threshold into the maintenance bay. The punch list of new parts to install almost made Charlie turn on heel and walk back out and cancel the contract.

“This is disgusting.” She muttered to herself as she stepped up to the bay.

Foxtrot was already there, waiting to see if Charlie would actually follow through with the agreement to take on the contract.

“Before you say anything, just think of all the legitimate upgrades you can buy when this is done.” Foxtrot said as Charlie opened her mouth to speak. She was right, but Charlie didn’t want to admit it.

“Guns and sex, the one thing everyone will shell out cash for.” Charlie muttered.

The maintenance bay for augmentations was nothing more than a series of cubicle sized enclosures. The sides were lined with a number of mechanical arms resembling the kind of clunky appendages you might see on a car assembly line. Each one was articulated and tipped with whatever specialized tool it was crafted to have.

As Charlie stepped into her cubicle, she tipped her head forward, exposing her neck, and her hands moved up to part her hair and drape it over her shoulders. Then, with a small command, opened a small panel at the nape of the neck. It hid only a single port, and as soon as it was opened one of the mechanical arms swooped in, scanned the opening, and then inserted itself into her neck.

Charlie’s eyes rolled up in her head just a little. She never liked this part of the job. As passcodes were sent into her operating system and authorized, her A.I. retreated from control over her body. In order to facilitate efficient and precise upgrades and part swaps, her movements would now be controlled by the installation server. Her artificial mind could still observe, but that almost made it worse, Charlie, the A.I. portion of Charlie that is, completely disconnected herself from her body until she got confirmation that the installation was completed.

With the data cable plugged in and the install server now fully in control of Charlie’s body, installations began. First by moving her arms to swiftly unbutton her olive drab tinted shirt and let it fall from her smooth rounded shoulders. Her arms were slender, lending her a petite look, but the immense amount of strength she could produce from them was one of her greatest boons. Underestimating someone based only on their looks could spell doom for some, and in Charlie’s case, it often did.

Her slender fingers were working to unclasp her bra and then shrugged out of it as well, leaving her completely topless. Next she knelt down, the cable trailing from her neck following with her movements perfectly. She untied and slipped out of her tactical boots and then stood back up. Finally her hands were at the zipper on her dark gray denim jeans, unfastening them and pulling them down her long legs. Her panties followed shortly after and she stepped out of them.

Standing mostly nude in the maintenance bay, the install server sent a command through the cable in her neck to her chest. There was a whiting like some kind of high speed drill, and her chest just below her collar bone and just above her belly button, moved away from her body. A new arm swooped into place and clamped on to the chest panel and brought it away from Charlie’s body as she looked straight ahead, never blinking. Inside of her torso, a series of electronics gleamed in the sterile, all too bright, fluorescent overhead lights. Status lights blinked and winked as the install server began sending other commands.

Charlie took a single side step to widen her stance and in doing so spread her legs. There was a similar whining sound from her crotch, as her simple, yet effective vaginal assembly lowered out of her pelvis. Another mechanical arm appeared and inserted a thin post into the folds and then clamped onto it as it left her body. Another series of arms moved into place as Charlie’s original equipment was stored in a bin with her designation on it. The new arms brought new parts, aligning them away from Charlie’s body, but at the ready.

First, a thick bundle of cables attached to an arm moved in on Charlie’s exposed chest. With rapid movements and precision several new data cables were plugged into their waiting ports inside of her torso. They were filling up her internal storage media with new programming, mission objectives, drivers, and information. All of it was prepackaged and ready for her operating system to use. Once the file transfer process had completed the same arm plucked those same cables from the ports and retracted back to the wall.

Once the arm was clear of Charlie’s body, the new sexual module was aligned and sloted itno place. A satisfying click that no one heard indicated that it was locked into place and the installation server received confirmation that a connection was made. In a similar fashion a new chest plate was clipped into place, and again registered as connected. Teh familiar whining sound filled Charlie’s cubicle as the chest and sexual module slowly puleld into Charlie’s body, sealed in place, and were ready for use. The drivers that had just been installed started automatically and Charlie’s new equipment was done. The cable in the back of her neck was pulled free and retracted to the wall.

Charlie’s A.I. had been dormant during all of this, preferring to simply let it all happen and wait patiently for the install to finish. The install server had sent a final completion alert to Charlie and then reactivated her. Her A.I crept back into place and took control of her body back, opening her eyes and letting her field of vision tell the story rather than looking at log files or new software installed.

“Seriously.” Charlie muttered as she looked down at her enlarged breasts. Leaving little guess work on what other duties her and Foxtrot would be assigned. They had also left her naked, which wasn’t uncommon, but it was certainly rude.

Charlie squatted down and began collecting her clothes. She had just bucked her belt in place when she saw the flaming red hair atop Foxtrot’s head pop around the corner of the cubicle.

“Nice tits.” She commented and then giggled.

“You too.” Charlie returned holding her bra up to her newly installed chest panel. It was woefully small in comparison to what it would be required to hold up. “I guess we stop by wardrobe on the way out.”

Charlie huffed and tossed the simple satin black bra on top of her disconnected chest piece and sexual module in the storage bin. It would remain there until they returned from their assignment. Meanwhile Charlie was slipping her button up shirt on and struggling to button it all the way up. The strain on the buttons was intense, but they held. Charlie and Foxtrot both looked ridiculous though, with chests that only barely looked like they proportionally matched their build, and shirts that looked like they were intentionally too small to accentuate that very fact.

Foxtrot and Charlie looked a little less ridiculous when they made their way out of the wardrobe station. Having a bra that was the correct size for their newly installed chest pieces and shirts that fit went a long way to normalizing their look. While they were there though they were also handed a number of other outfits to wear while they were on assignment, things that had been specifically requested by their client. Many of which Charlie looked down at in disgust. The string bikinis, the revealing one pieces, and even the non-poolside clothes were disgusting. Denim shorts that looked like they were a size too small and cut intentionally to show off her rear end, and an upsetting amount of white shirts.

Charlie sighed as she looked at the payload of software that had been installed alongside her new breasts. Personality modification in particular. They had requested giggly, almost bimbo-esque agents unless there was some kind of direct threat, at which point she had permission to revert to a more stoic and combat oriented configuration.

“Great.” Charlie muttered.

“It won't be too bad. Just go along with it, do what you’re programmed to do and let the good times roll!” Foxtrot said as she tucked her equally humiliating pile of garments under her arm and held up a hand for a high five. Charlie reluctantly obliged her, knowing that Foxtrot would insist.

Charlie knew she was coming off as a killjoy in the moment, but she hated the idea of giving up the comfort of having pockets to store extra tools and magazines in, or the idea of giggling and jiggling on the arm of an alleged criminal. It was the kind of assignment you took once and then never did again, either because it put enough money in your pocket or it was a “learning experience.” Either way, Charlie wasn’t pleased, less so that she had once again let Foxtrot charm her into a job.

Charlie and Foxtrot went way way back in the agency. They were both manufactured and brought online on the same day, leading Foxtrot to start referring to them as sisters or twins. Charlie had found it charming at first, but now it was just what they called one another. Charlie couldn’t help but smirk at Foxtrot, her overwhelmingly bubbly nature probably had to be modified only to make her less enthusiastic. Even the wandering thought of the install server trying to calculate how to dial her personality down was enough to bring a small smirk to the corners of Charlie’s mouth.

Charlie and Foxtrot proceeded to their living spaces. Separate small dorms where each unit could be away from their job and let their A.I. relax a little. Charlie stepped into her small dormitory and let out a breath. Her duffle bag still wasn’t entirely unpacked from her last assignment, which made packing fairly easy. She dropped the pile of clothes into her bag on top of the usual attire of jeans, practical form fitting shirts, some hair ties in case her hair needed to be pulled into a ponytail, and for good measure a cocktail dress and heels. She would usually have a stylish suit as well, but the last time she had worn it a street thug had filled it full of buckshot for her.

Charlie zipped the bag shut and stepped out into the main living area. It was cozy, to say the least. Charlie had invested no small amount of her own personal funds into making it comfortable for herself. There was a comfortable overstuffed chair next to an oak bookshelf. The shelves housed more nicknacks than actual reading material, but there were a few novels taking up shelf space. Primarily science fiction, with her prized collectors edition of Star Wars prominently displayed. Her walls were adorned with tasteful modern art and there were more than enough live plants there. All of it felt like a small slice of a hidden garden had been transplanted into her apartment.

Charlie took some time to reshelf a book that she had left sitting on her chair, watered her plants and sat in the chair for a moment. Her A.I. took the relaxation as a signal that it was time to start untangling and revisiting those thoughts that she had spent a few days pushing aside. Why hadn’t she jumped at the opportunity to let Conner buy out her contract? It was an incredible opportunity, with less danger and more benefit to her directly instead of some massive organization, and she wouldn’t have to pick up contracts for wanted criminals.

There’s a lot of freedom in this job. She replied to only herself. She looked around her room, she had put everything here and made sure it was exactly how she liked it. Her dorm was her kingdom of peace in a world of madness, there was no guarantee that she would have that anywhere else.

Conner wasn’t that kind of person though, and you know that. Her own A.I. seemed to be in an argumentative mood…

But there was no guarantee.

What is guaranteed is that you’ll be replaced some day by a new Charlie model who operates more efficiently.

“That’s enough of that.” Charlie said out loud as she pushed her hands into the arm rests and shoved herself to standing. She almost tipped forward and had to stamp her foot forward to counter balance herself.

“Right, learn to rebalance with these things.” She muttered and looked down at her chest. They added some weight, not a lot, but enough that all of her pre-existing calculations were just a little off. It was like wearing heels all over again. She returned to her bedroom, hoisted her duffle bag onto her shoulder and left her dorm, casting one last look over her shoulder at her small slice of serenity.

Foxtrot’s room was across the hall from Charlie’s, and she never bothered to knock on the rare occasions when she entered into Foxtrot’s space.

If Charlie’s dorm was a palace of peace and tranquility, Foxtrot’s was the very picture of chaos.

Charlie dropped her duffle bag in the entryway, finding it to be the only clean surface in the entire place. The rest of the apartment was a disaster. Clothes were draped over the few pieces of furniture that Foxtrot had brought in. Bras and socks were scattered around the floor, while a pair of nice looking slacks were draped over the armrest on a small loveseat. From the bedroom Charlie heard Foxtrot in her usual packing routine. She had surely already tossed the required clothes into her luggage.

“Mother fffff….where is that damned- Oh hey sis!” Foxtrot blurted as she walked headlong out of her room and practically into Charlie.

“I was just looking for my- pants! There they are!” Foxtrot said as she turned and thrust her hand behind the couch and pulled out a pair of olive drab jeans. Foxtrot was wandering around in just the shirt she had picked up from wardrobe and a pair of simple white panties. Charlie thought she looked somehow less collected than before, which was honestly a nearly impossible task.

“Are you almost ready to go, Fox?” Charlie muttered as Foxtrot swept past her back into the bedroom and began pulling on the jeans.

“Yeah yeah, gimme a minute here. Uh, could you just grab my boots out there.” Foxtrot asked as she pulled the jeans up her almost inhumanly long slender legs.

“Sure, where are they?” Charlie agreed, then looked to the room in front of her…they could be anywhere.

“By the couch I think.” Foxtrot replied.

It took Charlie a few minutes to find the first boot. A black, thick soled, kind that was more fashion than function. It’s partner was nowhere to be found in the area, but Charlie dutifully kept looking.

“Oh, found one!” Foxtrot’s voice came from the room, earning an eye roll from Charlie. She brought in the one boot she had found to Foxtrot who was already lacing up the one she had found in her room. “How do I look?”

Foxtrot stood and threw her arms wide, letting Charlie look her over. Black boots, olive coloured jeans and a black tank top completed the kind of “I’m a mercenary” look that Foxtrot must have been going for. The goofy smile on her face diminished that somewhat, but it was enough to make Charlie smirk.

“You look ready to kick ass.”

“That’s what I was going for!” Foxtrot confirmed and snatched up her bag.

The flight was far longer than Charlie would have liked. Long enough that Foxtrot actually ran out of jokes to tell, topics to chatter on about and soon the pair fell into a silence as they gazed out at the endless blue ocean below them. Charlie was thankful for their model line’s seventy two hour battery life. It was a vast improvement over previous models that could barely get away with a full day on a single recharge. Longer battery life meant that Charlie and Foxtrot wouldn’t have to take shifts slipping into low power mode.

The flight landed safely in Bora Bora with no complications and Charlie and Foxtrot were greeted at the airport by a concierge holding up a sign with their names on it. He led the two with luggage in hand to a small dock just next to the landing strip where they were ushered into a waiting motorboat. In the back seat of the boat the pair were met with a slick looking gentleman. He was easily in his forties, but was trying hard to look younger. Well dressed as he was, there was no mistaking the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes.

“Good evening ladies, I take it you are-” he looked them both up and down, sizing them up, lingering on what curves on their bodies he could see “-well equipped for your assignment?”

“We have everything we need, thank you.” Charlie’s curt response let him know that she not only understood the innuendo he was trying to make, but could read between the lines. Yes, they had guns, yes they were combat robots, and yes they had been equipped for protection and sex.

The small watercraft sped along the coastline on the outer rim of Bora Bora, heading from the airport to a resort hotel. They knew they were close when dozens upon dozens of stylish huts, hovering only a few feet above the water on piers, crested the horizon. It was picturesque really, the kind of lavish luxury that you see on postcards and travel agencies. The water was crystal clear, the sands white, and the accommodations looked perfect. Except, of course, for the blackhawk helicopter looming in the background. Or the rowdy bunch of men yelling and laughing, clearly intoxicated. Or perhaps the man at the center of the party.

Damaso Corbet was tall, taller than any of the other individuals there. Perhaps that was an intentional choice on his part, he liked to tower over everyone. It probably made him feel superior to everyone else. As if his reputation wasn’t enough. He was fit, just teetering on the edge of muscular, but it was somehow kept in check. His broad chest was bare today, gleaming with oil that someone had to have put there, and hidden only by his tacky Hawaiian shirt that constantly flapped in the gentle breeze of the island.

The boat Charlie and Foxtrot were on pulled to a stop and Damaso himself strode over to meet them. As it was tied off, Damaso stood over the two robotic women, legs spread shoulder length and his hands on his hips.

“Well well, look what we have here…a little over dressed though, aren’t you too?” Damaso said, a sly, knowing, and devious smile quirked at the edge of his mouth.

“Yes sir, maybe you have a place where we could get changed?” Charlie’s A.I. absolutely loathed how quickly the personality modifications took over. Her voice was sugary sweet, flirtatious and it even made her wink at him.

He stooped down and held out a hand to Charlie, which she took and he lifted her out of the boat, followed shortly by Foxtrot. He positioned himself in between them and let his hands fall to their hips. Once there, he pulled both of them tight against him, chuckling as he did so.

“Oh stop, people are going to get jealous that you’re hogging all the fun.” Foxtrot giggled and began rubbing her hand up and down Damaso’s arm, earning her a quick swat on the rear from the man.

“I like this one.” Damaso muttered and kissed her on the crown of her head.

Damaso led Charlie and Foxtrot to one of the small huts over the water and held open the door for them. As he gestured for them to step inside he made sure to look them both up and down.

“Come on out and join us once you two are more, heh, appropriately dressed.”

In that moment, Damaso seemed to remember something more vitally important and slipped inside the dim yurt, pulling the door mostly closed behind him.

“You are the girls from the agency, yes? You have you-er-programming?” Damaso’s tone changed from a jovial frat boy to a businessman, and something of a concerned fugitive in an instant. Charlie didn’t mind, she kind of liked watching him squirm a little, but more so because it took her personality modifications offline. Her A.I. slipped back into control and responded.

“Yes, I’m agent Charlie, this is Foxtrot. We’ll ensure your safety for as long as you are here. Don’t worry.” Charlie wanted so desperately to tell him to fall off of the dock and drown in the waters below, but she knew that wouldn’t end well for anyone. So she stuck to the professional stoic side of her normal personality programming.

“Good. This is good. Okay. put on something sexy and meet me outside.” Damaso said and returned his smile to his face.

Once the door was closedCharlie let the slight smile she had on her face fade to nothing.

“Pig.” She muttered under her breath.

“He seems so nice for an international criminal and wanted murderer.” Foxtrot added, her light voice bringing only a small measure of levity to the situation.

Charlie only shook her head, a job was a job though, and she needed to get sexy now.

Charlie and Foxtrot both shed their more tactical attire and both sood stark naked in the small hut. Outside the sounds of a party in full swing kept them company as they both dug into their luggage. Charlie’s bikini, if it could even be called that, was easily accessible. She was sure it would be the first thing that was requested, and had even contemplated wearing it under her normal outfit. It wasn’t that it was uncomfortable, Charlie had enough administrative privileges on her own body that she could simply disable or truncate any processes related to that, it was more the humiliation of it.

As she dug out the garment she sneered at it. The entire thing was made of a very fine mesh, making it not quite transparent, but she knew nothing would be hidden while she wore it. The extremely thin thong style bottom piece was made of the same sheer material, and even as she slipped it up her legs and over her hairless crotch she felt as if she were somehow even more exposed. It felt like the garment was intentionally made to highlight certain areas of the body, rather than cover it. The top wasn’t much better. The cups where her breasts eventually resided were that same fine mesh, and it showed off her nipples in surprisingly stark contrast with her pale skin. The cups were criss-crossed over one another and were pulled together rather than upwards, leading to her newly installed larger breasts pressing into some impressive cleavage. They were also not at all large enough to hold back the entirety of her chest, leading to some of her rounded breasts spilling out on either side.

Foxtrot was barely pulling hers on when Charlie had finished. Her twin hadn’t fared much better. The same fine mesh material was only highlighted by how many additional straps Foxtrot was sporting. Several additional stretchy straps originated from the bottom portion and wrapped around her hips at different elevations. From between Foxtrot's breasts emerged more straps as well, running along the curves of her chest until they met the shoulder straps. Much like Charlie, it seemed the material was specifically designed to draw more attention to her exposure rather than provide any small measure of cover.

As Foxtrot strapped herself into her bikini she looked down at herself. She tossed her hair a bit before running her fingers through it to add some additional volume to it. She glanced at Charlie, looking down at herself in disgust. Foxtrot knew her sister unit was likely already running through the tactical advantages and disadvantages, running through hundreds of scenarios given all the available mission information and trying to formulate possible outcomes, counter attacks, and strategies. Despite the fact that Foxtrot had the same tactical knowledge and prowess as her sister, she leaned more heavily on her personality, and her artificial intellect to provide solutions on the fly.

“Hey.” Foxtrot mustered, catching Charlie’s attention. “It’s going to be okay. Even if shit hits the fan, you and me are unstoppable.”

Foxtrot winked at Charlie, who had been compiling a number of tactical strategies given their situation. They were unarmed and unarmored, though it wouldn’t be terribly difficult to come across a weapon here, every last one of those frat boys outside had some kind of firearm on them. Charlie couldn’t help but smirk though.

“Thanks Fox, I don’t know what I would do without that annoying optimism of yours.” Charlie replied and stepped forward, embarrassing Foxtrot for a moment. When they broke Foxtrot was also smiling at her.

“Don’t get all sappy on my you wuss.” Foxtrot said before punching Charlie playfully in the shoulder. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out her nostrils. The hot air from her processors expelled in a combination of social gestures and required additional cooling as she loaded her personality modification.

“Remember-” Charlie chided. “-big smiles.”

Charlie and Foxtrot emerged from the small hut to the brilliantly bright sunshine. The raucous sounds of laughter, both genuinely funny and the kind of laughter someone makes when there is an insidious inside joke let loose. Both of the androids stepped forward, barefoot and basically naked into the roiling party. There must have been nearly thirty men there, most were not nearly as fit or good looking as Damaso, and it seemed like each one had at least one scantily clad woman on their arm. Charlie was letting her personality programming and some of her automated operating systems take control. She wasn’t quite on autopilot, but her A.I. was definitely taking the hands off of the controls so to speak.

Her and Foxtrot, and most of the other androids in their production line could be broken down into three primary parts, each one increasingly less complicated. Charlie sported an A.I. that was, for all intents and purposes, completely sentient. The A.I. was Charlie. It was a combination of her core personality and blocks of programming that she had compiled over the years of her operation run time. When she experienced something, her A.I. recorded everything about it, the circumstances, the outcome, and the factors that led to it. From there, her A.I. compressed everything into usable files and passed them to her operating system for filing in a database.

Her operating system, the second layer of her operation, handled the boring parts of her operation. It was the middle man between her body and her A.I. If there was something happening in her body, around her body, or some kind of environmental stimuli then her operating system was the one to take it all in. everything from the sensors in her skin, to the camera-like mechanisms inside of her eyes to the simple act of walking. All of it had some block of code or a series of sequences that were stored in a database and triggered, automatically or intentionally. Her OS controlled everything that made her go, but it was really just an interpreter for her commands and the shell of her body.

And finally her body, the actual chassis Charlie, the artificial person, inhabited. It had been intentionally manufactured to operate efficiently and effectively. There was no need for her or Foxtrot to wear body armor, since their skin was laced with a light kevlar weave in most places. There was no need for the expense of covering all of her body in it, merely the torso where the majority of her sensitive and critical systems were housed as well as wrapped around much of her skull. Bullet proof only went so far though, many of her and Foxtrot’s internal workings were goated in a secondary shell, lined with gel and armor plating. It made heat management difficult, but not impossible, they were one of the few lines of android combatants that were almost entirely liquid cooled.

So as Charlie, the A.I., let her operating system take over, she relaxed somewhat into monitoring her body and her surroundings. Foxtrot, meanwhile, never passed up the opportunity to pick up on some secondary skills. Sure, prancing around in a revealing bathing suit and hanging on the arms of assholes might not seem like a skillset that she needed to have, but to Foxtrot, every experience was worth having. Even if it was just some code that took up space in her ever growing database of social responses, it was worth it to have.

So the sights, sounds, and vibrant, wild, chaotic energy around them was all taken in by Foxtrot, and her smile was genuine. She loved a good party and she rarely got invited. When the two robotic warriors approached Damaso, now more appropriately attired for the festivities, he smiled broadly and threw his arms out wide.

“There they are! Charlie and my little Fox!” Damaso pulled them close and kissed each of them directly on the lips, but lingered for a moment with Foxtrot, rubbing his hawk-like nose against hers. She giggled in return and playfully swatted his upper arm before laughing. Charlie, meanwhile, had let out a small, seductive moan as she kissed Damaso, and her hand traced its way up his arm.

The party, if that was even the right word for the chaotic celebration, lingered long into the evening. Charlie and Foxtrot were never far from Damaso’s side. His hands were on one or both of them at any given time. It was something of a habit that Charlie had noticed with most clients who were truly fearful for their life. Close, physical contact. It was almost like clutching at Charlie and Foxtrot was like holding onto a security blanket, hoping that it would provide enough protection against whatever lurking threat might be waiting for the right moment to pounce on them.

With the amount of hard drugs, stimulants and adrenaline flowing through everyone at the event it wasn’t a surprise that it was nearly two in the morning before Damaso squeezed his girls close to him and whispered to no one in particular.

“Why don’t we go back to my room and turn in for the night.”

The way he said it was so sickeningly lurid that Charlie knew that there was a very small chance of sleep for him tonight. He would likely simply pass out once he had had his way with them. As they approached his room though, he still seemed in high spirits. The halls were empty and Charlie held up a hand to stop him and Foxtrot.

“I’d better check the room first.” Charlie muttered and Damaso seemed surprised at her sudden shift in tone, but he couldn’t be mad, it was the sensible thing to do, and so he waved her onward.

Charlie gingerly opened the door to the room peered in through the small crack she had made between the door and the jamb. The room seemed empty enough, so she opened the door further and slipped inside. Closing the door silently behind her. She paced around the room, softly on her bare feet. Checking the usual places to hide a remote explosive device. There were no hidden cameras from what she could tell and the curtains were drawn tight. Everything looked secure enough, so she returned to the hall.

Once there she was greeted by the sight of Damaso pressing Foxtrot against the wall. His hands were fondling her overly large breast roughly, and she was squirming and squealing with delight. Damaso’s hand was on her chin, lifting it up to meet his lips. Charlie could tell that his tongue was inside of her mouth and she was returning the favor as well. Foxtrot’s hand was rubbing vigorously at Damaso’s pants as well, or more accurately the bulge that was forming there. Charlie wondered what kind of operations Foxtrot had been running recently, but then decided that she really didn’t want to know.

“Everything looks clear, sir.” Charlie interrupted and Foxtrot and Damaso seemed to immediately bounce off of one another, separating suddenly.

“Good, good work Charlie.” Damaso said, and moved past her and her fake smirk, he did let his hand fall back behind him enough to pinch a significant amount of Charlie’s rear end.

“Oh! Mr. Corbet. Naughty naughty.” Charlie said in a deep husky tone and spun around to follow him into the room. Foxtrot was on her heels and quietly closed the door behind the trio.

Once in the darkened room, Damaso immediately shed his shirt and let it fall to the floor without a care in the world. He moved to the bed and cushioned his head with his hands, letting out a long sigh. Charlie briefly thought that he was already on his way to sleep, but then he spoke.

“You two, over here. I want to watch you two fuck.” He punctuated his point by moving one hand and patting the bed.

Charlie was thankful that her modified personality, sexual programming, and social programming were all working well enough to stop her from scoffing and walking out of the room. Instead, she looked sidelong at Foxtrot and a small smile formed at the corners of her mouth. Charlie slinked along to Foxtrot and took her hands and began leading her towards the large king size bed. Charlie Scrambled up on it and Foxtrot didn’t miss a single step as she smoothly followed Charlie onto the bed.

Charlie had moved onto the bed enough and gracefully lowered herself flat onto the bed, laying next to Damaso. Foxtrot had followed her every movement with an equally smooth movement of her own, and soon she was crawling on top of Charlie.

Foxtrot, like Charlie, let her own built in sexual programming handle the heavy lifting. Foxtrot was more accustomed to male partners in her cortesan duties, but another woman wasn’t so uncommon. The programming though let her A.I. simply let the actions happen. Foxtrot’s hands were on Charlie’s chest, massaging and playing with her robotic sister’s breasts. Charlie in turn let out a soft moan, more breath than sound, but the message was clear. The sensorly flesh along her body was lighting up with pleasurable data, and her thighs were already beginning to gently rub together.

Foxtrot took the section of crossed straps from Charlie’s top and hooked a finger into it, tugging upwards on it, making Charlie’s breasts jiggle and bounce with each movement. She became more and more aggressive in those bounces, and soon Charlie’s chest was spilling out of her top. In return Charlie flourished her hands and brought them up and around Foxtrot’s head. She pulled the android down on top of her and their mouths met. Hungry for one another, their tongues tangled together. Once the pair was kissing, Charlie began to expertly untie Foxtrot’s bikini top.

Once it was loose, Charlie pulled it off, and flung it across the room, earning a small squeak from Foxtrot as her nipples soon came in contact with Charlie’s mostly bare chest. Then it was Charlie’s turn to move her hands onto Foxtrot’s body and begin playing with her chest. Her hands groped wildly at Foxtrot’s breasts, playing with her nipples any chance she got. Foxtrot, in turn, moaned deeply into her existing kiss with Charlie. The two continued like this for a few moments until Charlie moved one hand away from Foxtrot’s chest and moved it down to her long legs, brushing along the side of her shapely thigh and around it until she found her hand on Foxtrot’s warm and waiting sex.

Foxtrot deftly moved one of her hands down to assist Charlie in sliding the bottoms of her bikini off of her. Charlie moved her hands back upwards, dragging her nails along Foxtrot’s back until they were once again around her neck, tangled in the android’s red hair. With a simple command and some inhumanly robotic strength, Charlie flipped Foxtroy onto her back, and moved herself on top of her companion.

Once done, Charlie began to leave a long, hot trail of kisses down Foxtrot’s cheek, to her neck, then down to her collar bone and soon to her breasts. Charlie lingered on her nipples for a moment, suckling at them and letting her tongue swirl around them both until they were stiff and puckered on the tips of Foxtrot’s breasts. Charlie continued onward, down Foxtrot’s abdomen, hard and tense with artificial muscle simulations, and down to her waiting sex. Charlie wasted little time in placing her hands on Foxtrot’s thighs and encouraging her legs open before diving in.

Charlie stiffened her tongue and pushed it deep inside of Foxtrot, causing her legs to snap upward, and press in slightly on Charlie’s head. The android wasn’t bothered by this, she could have taken a bullet to the head and still kept functioning. Charlie’s lips soon met the smooth artificial flesh around Foxtrot’s womanly folds and even then she managed to press her tongue deeper inside. Charlie felt Foxtrot’s fingers tangle into her choppy brown hair and press her head into her waiting sex just a little more. Charlie responded by obliging her, pressing into the soft flesh around her sex and pressing outward on Foxtrot’s thigh.

Once settled in place, Charlie began licking and lapping generously against Foxtrot’s folds. She toyed and swirled her tongue around and paid little attention to anything else. Partially because her A.I. wanted nothing to do with whatever Damaso was up to at the moment, and it made it easier to focus on simply giving Foxtrot some pleasurable data.

The sharp slap against Charlie’s elevated rear end triggered her to stop. She sat up and looked around in concern. Damaso was no longer in bed next to her and glancing over her shoulder at the rest of the room along with Foxtrot, she spotted him. He had already lost his pants and was standing behind Charlie. He was fully erect and wearing the most sinister smile.

“Sorry cutie pie, did I startle you?” His words were meant to be playful, Charlie knew, but all she heard was the slime and sludge that his words exuded. Charlie cooed softly in return.

“No sir, we robot’s are hard to surprise, I just wanted to know where that slap came from. Give me another would you?”

There was another hard slap across Charlie’s rear end, she could see in her field of vision the alert of another impact across her body lighting up the flesh there. Her A.I. wanted so badly to lash out at him, but her operating system, ever the middle man between her thoughts and her actions, instead made her moan in pleasurable lust and then giggle. Damaso took that as his opportunity to level another slap against her other cheek. Charlie opened her mouth as another low growl tumbled out and she gripped the sheets next to Foxtrot. Then Damaso was inside of her.

He had pulled the thin strong from between her rear end and found Charlie’s wet and exposed sexual module there. He thrust deep inside of her and Charlie let out a cry, not of pain but of pleasure. Another thrust and she felt Damaso’s hips impact her own. Charlie lowered herself back to Foxtrot’s waiting slit and drove herself back in, desperate for a distraction. The three remained in this chain for only a few moments. Both Charlie and Foxtrot were specifically programmed not to reach any kind of simulated orgasm until their current user ordered it, or achieved that satisfaction on their own. When it was just Charlie and Foxtrot, there was a certain timer that was randomized inside of Foxtrot’s systems that would have executed the orgasm sequence, but now that Damaso was here, he was human, and therefore that random timer was canceled.

Charlie would remain there, her lips on Foxtrot’s clit, her tongue lodged deep inside of her and practically vibrating until the sensors inside of her own sex detected the signs of Damaso’s orgasm. She didn’t have long to wait, and moments later she felt the single, sudden thrust forward followed by the sensation of a warm fluid inside of her. Damaso had left his contribution and so Charlie herself let out a muffled moan as her lips were still locked on Foxtrot, who in turn also arched her back and let out a long, satisfyingly lewd, moan.

Damaso took a stumbled step backwards as his legs felt weak, Meanwhile CHarlie and Foxtrot sat up in bed and looked over towards him, their faces still smiling and their eyes looking half lidded and filled with lustful desire.

“Fuck you two are good at your job.” Dmaaso commented between breaths.

“Thank you sir.” Charlie and Foxtrot said in unison, their voices though unique, carried the same pitch, tone and inflection. It was the same sexual programming set running in both of them, meaning both of them had suspended their A.I. and were purely reliant on the generic sexual programming.

Damaso thought it was hilariously cute and laughed heartily at it. He moved to the bathroom and cleaned himself up for a moment before returning to the bed and taking up a place in the middle of the mattress. Beckoning the two girls to him, and they complied, curling up on either side of the crime lord. Charlie’s hand rested across his chest as he rapidly descended into snoring. Foxtrot’s hand resting on top of Charlie’s while they waited. Once he was snoring loudly and regularly, both disentangled from him and collected their discarded clothes. They exchanged looks and Foxtrot made a silly disgusted look before moving to one of the many electrical outlets. She opened a panel in the side of her torso and pulled out her charging cable and plugged herself in before sitting on the floor. Charlie stifled a small laugh and joined Foxtrot on the floor, plugging herself in and letting Foxtrot rest her head on Charlie’s shoulder.

Charlie and Foxtrot didn’t take long to recharge, the rapid draw they were built with could have brought them from completely empty to completely full in a matter of hours. When they plugged in the night before they were somewhere around half a charge, so the hour and a half it took to top off their power cells made it easy to spend the rest of the night silently watching over their client. Both puth their bikini’s back on, lacking anything else to wear and paced silently around the room. On occasion they would share a glance at one another and a small smile would form on Charlie’s mouth while Foxtrot would often make a large, wild grin in an effort to make Charlie laugh or even just smile more broadly.

Damaso managed to wake up and roll out of bed somewhere around noon the next day. Even then he was barely awake and stumbled to the bathroom. Charlie and Foxtrot remained vigilant as they waited for him to shower and once he stopped out of the steaming hot bathroom shower he simply put on whatever he was wearing the night before. Once he stepped into the room again both Charlie and Foxtrot adorned their usual smiles as he passed them by, clearly not in the mood for flirting on an empty stomach.

Both girls accompanied him to the breakfast buffet, but mentioned that there was no real reason for them to eat anything. He laughed for a moment forgetting that they were machines and not people, and piled his plate with more food.

Once breakfast, or was it lunch, ended, they returned to the docks and huts they had been at the night before to find that the party never really ended. Or maybe it had for a few short hours, but it was once again in full swing. As the trio approached there were a few shouts of joy and Damaso was quickly passed a drink. In a matter of moments it was just as if the night before had never ended. Charlie and Foxtrot were once again swirled around between Damaso and a number of his close associates. Charlie lost, or perhaps stopped counting how many times her bare ass was pinched, slapped, or grabbed. Everytime followed by raucous laughter. She giggled along and laughed and made jests, but there was always a portion of her A.I. that loathed it.

It was later in the day, the sun was low and that air was thick and hot. Charlie hated the feeling of hot air running over the cooling grills inside of her to only lower her internal temperature a fraction. She had heard humans suggesting that it felt, to them, like trying to breathe soup. The twilight hour of the day when the normal sound of birds and insects faded slowly into silence, only to have a momentary feeling of silence as the night time insects crawled out of their hiding places. Charlie only relished this time because it was a clear indication that the day was beginning to draw to a close, and she and Foxtrot were only on this assignment until tomorrow morning. They were close to ridding themselves of this awful duty.

The pair exchanged glances briefly while Damaso relieved himself into some bushes. Charlie rolled her eyes, but wore a genuine smirk and Foxtrot smiled, wide and wonderful. Despite all the humiliating remarks and inappropriate grabbing, Foxtrot was happy for it all. Her A.I. logged just as much discomfort in it, but her outlook was that it would make a valuable addition to her ever growing database of interaction. If nothing else, it would give Charlie and Foxtrot something to look back on and laugh about once they returned to headquarters, returned the ridiculous chest plates, and returned to normal operation.

The sound of spinning rubber slamming to a stop and piercing the early evening air with a squeal of protest shook away the smile in an instant. The repeated report of gunfire took their giggling personalities offline and replaced them with tactics and strategy in the blink of an eye.

Foxtrot tackled Damaso to the ground without a sound and Charlie crouched down, looking around and beginning to do what she did best. She located the sound of the gunshots, a small convoy of vehicles had come screaming out of nowhere and deployed a group of men, all armed to the teeth with automatic weapons. They would have to sprint up the docks to the huts to retrieve their own weapons, or take one off of some of Damaso’s men, who were already diving for cover and returning fire. There was an equal distance to the helicopter, but they would have to cross the road in front of the convoy to get there.

“Foxtrot, get Damaso to the chopper, I’ll find the pilot!” Charlie shouted over the roar of gunfire.

Foxtrot had covered Damaso with her bullet proof body, but looked up at Charlie orders, grinned as if to convey that ‘this is awful, but let's kick ass’ and raised two thumbs up. She then crouched, taking Damaso by the forearm and hauling him to his knees. She got very close to him and spoke into his ear. Charlie knew she was letting him know to follow her, stay close, move to the helicopter and don’t look back.

Charlie was already sprinting through the scattered tables as crystal punch bowls exploded around her. She took a few hits as she moved, several small caliber rounds impacted her kevlar laced skin and bounced off, but they also threw off Charlie’s balance. She skittered to a stop behind a table that had been flipped over and found one of Damaso’s men cowering there. He couldn’t have been more than eighteen, but he was clutching a pistol in his hands and weeping openly.

“For christ sake, give me that.” Charlie said and snatched the gun from his hands. She popped up from the table to survey her location and the location of the incoming fire. Then leaned quickly out to the other side and began squeezing off a number of well timed and precise shots. She had driven several of the attackers back behind cover and landed a number of solid hits. She glanced over to see Foxtrot interposing her body between the gunfire and Damaso, who was staying low and running along. Charlie popped out and let loose the last few rounds in the magazine in an attempt to provide cover for Foxtrot and Damaso.

Foxtrot and Damaso had made it to the relative cover behind one of the small huts by the roadside. They were a small sprint away from the helicopter now, and Foxtrot craned her head around the corner of the building to check to see if it was clear or not. It definitely was not, as a hail of bullets came screaming at her and while most of them missed her, there were two that struck her in the face. She recoiled, pulling back and looking back to Damaso.

“Shit’s crazy out there. Lay low for a second, okay?”

Damaso recoiled in shock. Despite Foxtrot’s complete zen-like calm about the situation, one bullet had hit her in the forehead, tearing away the synthetic skin there and exposing the metallic skull cap under it. There was a deep dent in it, but Foxtrot seemed not to care. More upsetting was the fact that one of the bullets had slammed into her optics, and while it completely obliterated the glassy human looking eyeball covering, the faintly glowing red optics just below the eye socket were still intact. Foxtrot, for all her party girl personality quirks could detect Damaso’s discomfort.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’m built for this. Just stay close and we’ll be good.” Her voice, despite the hail of gunfire and shouts.

It was about this time that Charlie arrived, a younger man with a look of terror and the same tacky tan shorts and floral shirt that everyone seemed to be wearing here. Charlie had managed to secure for herself two automatic weapons that were slung over her shoulder, Charlie passed one to Foxtrot. She and Charlie nodded to one another in silent recognition. They would hop out first, providing as much cover as possible while moving towards the helicopter. Foxtrot and Charlie both crouched down, spoke soothingly to their respective human counterparts, and then nodded to one another.

Both hopped out and began to let out small bursts of fire in staggered succession. Charlie looked back to Damaso and the pilot and waved for them to start moving. The men gotto their feet and began to run. Charlie and Foxtrot paced along with them, keeping heads down and bullets away from Damaso and the pilot. They scrambled up the small hillside and Charlie and Foxtrot knelt down to provide more covering fire.

“Get the rotors going, we’ll hold them down until we are ready to depart!” Charlie screamed as a fresh burst of fire erupted from the end of her rifle. The pilot nodded and sprinted to the helicopter with Damaso in tow.

Once the sound of the engines began roaring it seemed to draw the attention of the entire convoy and Charlie and Foxtrot now found themselves pinned down, but it was far too late. The rotors were thumping loudly and Charlie and Foxtrot felt the whipping winds they created just moments before they saw the helicopter lift off and turn rapidly away from the pair.

“That motherfucker left without us.” Foxtrot commented as she looked on, gobsmacked.

Charlie swore and looked around. There were few options, most of Damaso’s men saw him flee and took the cue that they too should scatter.

“The hotel had an automated shuttle to the airport.” Foxtrot shouted back to Charlie who nodded and ventured a peak over the embankment. The convoy of thugs had hunkered down and were sending only enough fire to keep Charlie and Foxtrot pinned down. From what she could see though they were hunkered in place. There was nothing but open fields between where they were and the resort, meaning there would be a mad dash to get there, likely a few solid his on their back, but it wasn’t impossible.

“Guess we run then.” Charlie muttered and Foxtrot nodded. “You first.”

Charlie sprang to her feet, spraying the last of her magazine at the convoy. As it clicked empty her eyes widened as someone popped out from behind one of the armored doors holding an anti material rifle.

The massive weapon looked like a cartoonishly large rifle with sharp squared edges everywhere and a high powered scope on top. It was the kind of weapon that international law only allowed people to use against equipment and hard targets. Things like radio communication packs, vehicles, and unfortunately for Charlie and Foxtrot, androids. Charlie didn’t even hear the sound of the hypersonic round, all she knew was that one moment she was staring down the barrel of the rifle and the next she was hitting the ground.

Everything in her operating system showed green though, everything was working as expected, so why had she suddenly fallen. Looking up, she saw why.

Foxtrot was standing right where Charlie had been, her posture showing that she had just shoved Charlie out of the way. The look on her face was somewhere between joy that she got Charlie out of the way, and shocked pain. Her head tilted downward in jarring, stilted movements to look at her torso. Charlie followed her gaze and found herself looking through Foxtrot’s abdomen. Charlie’s eyes went wide as Foxtrot tilted forward, falling towards the ground. Charlie scrambled forward in time to catch her from slamming face first into the ground.

Charlie was immediately opening a communication channel to the satellite relay that would put her in touch with headquarters. Foxtrot was still online, but she wasn’t going to be able to make it to the extraction, not on her own at least.

“Command, unit Charlie reporting in. Unit Foxtrot down. Repeat unit Foxtrot down. Moving to extraction on land. Requesting immediate support and extraction. Client safe, repeat client safe and accounted for.” Charlie’s message was scripted, filling in the blanks on a pre-existing template and waiting for the response. It would only take a second to return a reply from command, but she wasn’t waiting. She scooped up the rifle Foxtrot had and then knelt down to lift Foxtrot over her shoulder.

“Unit Charlie. Unit Foxtrot is unavailable for remote detonation. Manually initiate timed self-destruction and move to extraction point.”

Charlie was, for the very first time in her existence, surprised. They were going to let her explode right there, and worse still the fact that they couldn’t do it themselves meant that they were asking her to do it for them. Charlie looked down at Foxtrot who had moved to look her in the face again, her smile was twitching up and down rapidly.

“It-it’s been fun, twinsie. But I-I-ne-need to go now.” Foxtrot muttered, her voice sounding distant and tinny, but she was still smiling, her voice was somehow upbeat, as if this was just an inevitability.

Charlie could see into Foxtrot’s blown open belly, the circuitry there was still snapping and sparking in angry white and blue electric arcs. There were so many ruined electronic shards blasted in and out of her body. She was leaking some kind of fluid all over the place and it was getting worse by the second.

Charlie closed the comm channel and hoisted Foxtrot up on her shoulder and stood. She turned for just a moment to see that the cloud of dirt and debris the rifle had kicked up was beginning to settle. She could see a man holding the anti-material rifle, he was smirking like he had just bagged some kind of prize. Charlie held the trigger down and unloaded the magazine on him. She saw him flailing and blood spraying out his back. That would have to do. She turned and ran.

Moments later more hot lead was flying past her and making small explosions erupt from the ground around her. She registered a number of hits on her back, but the kevlar stopped them from doing any real damage. She also heard more than a few strike Foxtrot, a fact that enraged her A.I. more and more every time it happened. Eventually though, she made it to the hotel’s waiting auto-car bay. She threw open the door with her free hand and pushed Foxtrot inside as gently as she possibly could before climbing in herself.

The chipper automated voice in the car asked for a destination and Charlie screamed for it to take her to the airport. It sweetly and kindly responded with an affirmative and told her to have a relaxing ride and a nice day.

Charlie looked down at Foxtrot, she seemed to be deactivated now, badly damaged from the rifle round, and had taken so much more damage from the incoming fire as they ran. Charlie hadn’t known how much damage while she was running, because most of it had hit soft parts of her body. Foxtrot had lost her bikini top at some point, leaving her bare breasted as they ran. A number of bullets had torn into the skin on her chest, tearing free one of Foxtrot’s breasts, and leaving it hanging on by a small shred of artificial flesh. One of her arms was missing completely, leaving only a twisted and shattered shoulder joint with frayed wiring and some tubing. She was still smiling too, nothing would ever wipe that away.

Charlie let out a breath and reclined, letting her A.I. retreat back from her operating system again to try and process what had just happened. She was an android, a machine, nothing more, but her A.I. was practically sentient. Emotions were just programming, responses to stimuli. She wasn’t sad, upset, furious, or vengeful, those were all human emotions, but her A.I. knew that that was the appropriate response, and as she detached herself from her body and operating system, her A.I. screamed.

Charlie’s software and hardware were left on their own, with no artificial mind to start or stop anything, it fell to the external stimuli to dictate her responses. In her lap lay a naked, highly attractive, woman. Her optics glossed over the damage and a hand fell to Foxtrot’s one remaining breast and squeezed it once. She was toying with Foxtrot’s nipple the same way they had the night before, and her free hand moved to her own crotch. Charlie’s fingers moved in small swirling circles around her clit and in an instant her sexual programming was engaged. She toyed with herself for the remainder of the car ride to the airport, eventually coming to orgasm shortly before the car stopped.

When it did, as if controlled only by automated protocols she carried Foxtrot with her, to the waiting tarmac and onto the jet that was waiting there to extract them. There were no human staff members, just another automated system. Charlie’s body moved stiffly and blankly onto the plane, settled Foxtrot down on the floor, took a seat of her own and then her A.I. returned.

She had taken plenty of damage herself, large sections of her own synthetic flesh would need to be cut away and then replaced with new pieces. Her internal workings all seemed to be in good working order, but regardless, she would need to return to maintenance to have her chest removed and replaced. She didn’t want to be online for the flight home, sitting next to her ruined sister. So, she powered fully down.

Charlie came back online some hours later. Her internal clock registered that it had been almost twenty four hours since she had shut off. She was in the maintenance bay, and she could immediately tell that her head had been disconnected from her body, likely to uninstall the software and drivers from before and download the mission debriefing. As she came to awareness she could hear voices, human voices. There were only a few actual human staff members, but they were generally in places of leadership. She recognized the voice of the head of robotic repairs.

“-far too out of date. I mean we could get the parts but...yeah, it’s right at the end of its life cycle…maybe another year or two…uh huh…yeah ok, I’ll send it for scrap…Charlie? She’s fine, just a few skin patches…okay, I’ll put in the order and then head out.”

Charlie knew what it all meant. Foxtrot wasn’t just heavily damaged, she was gone. They weren’t going to repair her. She and Foxtrot were at the end of their life cycle. If Foxtrot hadn’t shoved her out of the way it would have been Charlie laying on that table with a work order for disassembly and scrapping. Charlie wanted to scream at whoever it was that was standing just out of sight, she wanted to tell him that he was making a mistake and that Foxtrot was one of their best agents. She wanted to plead with him to do everything he could to get her back. The install server had finished removing the software and mission logs, and powered her back down just as she opened her mouth to make her case.

She powered back on a few hours later. She was all in one piece, fully functional and repaired. She jolted up on the workbench as the mechanical arms that had pieced her back together slunk back into their cubbies. She looked at the other repair benches only to find them empty.

Foxtrot was gone.

Charlie slipped off of the table and picked up the clothes she had tossed in the bin when the mission had started. She slipped back into them and stomped out of the maintenance bay. She opened a phone application in her operating system and dialed in a phone number.

“Conner? Hi, this is Charlie. Do you have a minute to talk?”