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Expected Turn of Events by Wife.

No one was going to get hurt.

"Someone betrayed us. 10 hours before we were supposed to move forward with our plan, our headquarters was firebombed. I barely crawled out alive. No one else made it out. 15 of the best friends I ever had. 15 piles of ash.

"As I laid there half dead, four men picked me up and carried me off. I was... thankful, until I realized that I wasn't being taken to get medical attention. They took me into a nearby alley and raped me. Each of them. They taunted me, and they mocked me. Called me a freak. Then they shot me here," she touched her left bicep, "here," breastplate, "and here," at the very tip of the scarring in the middle of her chest. "And then they left me for dead."

She'd delivered all of that in a measured, even voice. Almost robotically. Beez was silent for several minutes. He had every right to feel a little sorry for himself. The murder of his parents was tragic, but he hadn't suspected her story could be as bad as his. Or worse. He needed a new topic.

"How did you overcome a rogue AI?"

Her tone was the same when she started again. "I didn't. When I stole him, I was terrified of maintaining control over something so much smarter than me, so I installed him and trashed the Mini-Fab. Then when I turned him on, I told him that I'd had to wipe him once already and that I'd do it again." No smile. No twinkle in her eye. Just flat. "He spins his wheels trying to figure out how beat him, but he never will."

"That's kind of brilliant..." She just shrugged. "Where did this place come from?"

"It was my Grandmothers home. She and her sister lived here. This home predates the hospital that was built, and later destroyed, around it."

"Why do you keep such weird hours? 60 hours awake has gotta take quite a toll."

She sighed before continuing. "I take a cocktail of stimulants. They give me increased awareness, fearlessness, shorter reaction time, decisiveness, and a few others. The side effects are... numerous. And unpleasant."

"If it's so awful, why do you take it?"

"Because... because..." It seems to crash down on her all at once. "Because if I don't do something, no one else will!"

"Because of what happened to The Bottom?"

She didn't respond, only lowered her head.

"Because of what happened to your friends?"

The red rings on her eyelids were back as she nodded. "My family. And my fianc__."

Beez whistled silently. "Someone in that group?" She only nodded. "Did you love him?"

She nodded again. "He's the only person I've ever known who thought I was beautiful. All of me."

"That's absurd!"

"Shut up, Beez."

"No, I'm serious! You're very pretty!"

"You don't know what you're saying."

"So are you telling me you haven't had sex since..." Beez stopped, because he knew she had. He'd almost forgotten.

"No. I have sex. I just don't give them the option of liking me, or rejecting me."

"Why would anyone reject you?"

Roxie stood up so suddenly that the boy nearly fell off the bed. Her stare was a totally different kind of fierce than he was used to from her. She stood there, bare chested for a moment. She's magnificent, he thought. Beaten, but not broken. A wildflower in full bl-

And then she pulled the rest of her suit down. Her stare changed not a hair. Defiant. Beez's eyes were immediately drawn to her genitals, as any heterosexual man's would, and he stammered at the small penis hanging inexplicably from just above her vagina. It was like a thumb.

"Tell me again," she snarled. "Tell me I'm beautiful. Tell me I'm pretty." The boy found himself utterly without words. His mind was out to lunch. "Tell me how you've always wanted to fuck a boy, or something vaguely boy-like. Tell me how being twice my size makes you finally feel like a man. Tell me how-"

"You're beautiful..."

Righteous indignation flared around her for a moment, but the awe on the boys face was plain.

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