I stepped closer, focusing on the map as Zoe adjusted the perspective. The plotted route and our current trajectory were out of sync, the discrepancy clear even to my untrained eye. The lines had separated just a bit, and it made my teeth ache. We were talking about outer space here, a small deviation could mean weeks of travel.

"I thought Ryan handled that," I said. I mean, plotting the route based on her navigation was his job, right? He was probably screwing off, as usual. Typical Ryan.

"He did," replied Zoe evenly, her tone not unkind but far from complimentary. "The autopilot overcorrected based on his inputs. It’s small, but still wrong." She glanced at her monitor, her fingers dancing across the surface. She looked so in control, like she was born to do this. Which she kind of was, being the navigator and all.

As if summoned, Ryan appeared at the doorway, a protein bar in one hand and an unmistakable chip on his shoulder. "What’s wrong with my inputs?" he asked, crossing the room in a few easy strides. He looked all pissed off, his jaw tight. As if this was somehow an attack on him, personally.

"They weren’t wrong," said Zoe, her fingers still moving across the keyboard. "The autopilot just... misinterpreted them. It didn't factor in the gravitational pull from the nearby moon." She paused, her fingers flying, adjusting the course on the monitor. She moved with such confidence, with such ease. It was mesmerizing. And a little distracting.

Ryan leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the screen, that familiar cockiness in his expression. "We gave it all the necessary parameters, including gravitational and positioning data. It shouldn’t be deviating,” he said. He was probably just trying to save face, like a little kid who got caught doing something bad.

"Shouldn’t and didn’t are two different things," said Zoe, her voice calm but clipped. She paused, typing in a set of coordinates, meticulously accounting for the pull, and double-checking the star map before locking in the adjustment. "The autopilot AI can hallucinate sometimes. It’s good, but not perfect. It over-relies on its internal database and fails to account for real-time positional shifts,” she said, finally taking her fingers off the keyboard, and looked directly at Ryan. God, she was good. "Did you, by chance, double check the positioning data after inputting the route?" The question hung in the air, innocent enough, but loaded with implication.

Ryan frowned. "We spent hours calibrating it back at the platform. You’re telling me it just... got creative?" He sounded genuinely frustrated, but now there was a hint of defensiveness too.

"Yes," she replied, finally looking up at him. "Because that’s what it’s designed to do when it encounters variables it doesn't fully understand, or variables that were not accounted for.” She emphasized the last part, ever so slightly. "It’s better than nothing, but it’s not infallible. It's meant to learn, adapt, even improvise, but that means it can also make mistakes." She met his gaze, her eyes unwavering.

I stayed quiet, sensing the tension brewing between them. Ryan folded his arms, his jaw tightening as he stared at the screen. Here we go, I thought, two of them, ready for a fight. Honestly, though, Zoe looked incredible right now. She was so focused, so in control. It was kinda hot, to be honest. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was turning him on, too.

"I get it," Ryan said after a beat, though his tone suggested otherwise. "But if we keep overriding it every time it hiccups, we’re going to waste more time than we save." He was so stubborn, so sure of himself. He hated being wrong. Typical engineer.

Zoe turned back to the console, her voice calm but firm. "If we don’t correct this now, that three percent becomes six, or worse. We're not just flying from point A to point B; we're navigating a complex web of gravitational forces, spatial anomalies, and temporal distortions. A minor error now can compound exponentially over time and distance. Trust me, Ryan, this is faster in the long run." She was so focused, so in control.

The bridge fell quiet except for the soft tapping of Zoe’s keyboard and the faint hum of the ship. I shifted my weight, glancing between the two of them. The air wasn’t hostile, exactly, but it was heavy, like the stillness before a storm. Goddamn, it’s so obvious, I thought, they need to get laid, probably. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and it was all the more obvious because it was two very hot people with a very clear problem. Not that I'd ever been laid, but still, I was sure it was that. They’d been on this ship for two days, and they were already wound tight, like springs waiting to be released.

Ryan sighed, stepping back and running a hand through his hair. "Fine. But if it screws up again, we’re recalibrating the whole system,” he said. Oh yeah, that was definitely a threat. A childish, pointless threat. Typical.

"Deal," Zoe said, not looking up. Her fingers paused over the keyboard as she hit the final command, locking in the corrected course. The map shifted, the new trajectory aligning perfectly with our intended route. She moved with such purpose it made my skin tingle.

"Done," she said, sitting back in her chair. "We’re back on track." She looked relieved, a small sigh escaping her lips.

Ryan muttered something under his breath and walked out, leaving me and Zoe alone. I hesitated for a moment, then leaned against the console beside her. I could smell her perfume, the faint scent of something floral and spicy. And maybe a hint of frustration.

“You okay?” I asked. I’m probably making things worse, but I can’t help myself. I was always stepping into situations that didn’t involve me.

“Fine,” she said, exhaling slowly. Her eyes stayed on the screen, scanning the data as if double-checking her work. She looked so serious, so focused, it made my chest ache. “Just... this stuff matters, you know? If we mess it up, it’s not like we can pull over and fix it.” I wanted to reassure her, but I knew I couldn't.

I nodded, understanding the weight she carried in that moment. “You did good.” Smooth, Luca. Real smooth. I hated how lame I sounded.

Zoe didn’t answer right away, but after a moment, she glanced at me, a faint flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “Thanks.” Okay, maybe I didn't totally screw that up. All I could think about was their unresolved sexual tension, they were so going to make out in the engine room later or something.

***

The lounge buzzed with energy, the crew settling in for another night of movie-watching. The electric fireplace cast a soft glow, the snacks were piled high, and the opening credits of Terminator rolled on the oversized screen. Joey had already claimed the spot closest to the TV, narrating the movie with his usual mix of trivia and exaggerated enthusiasm, why does he always do this. It was like he was trying to prove he knew more than everyone else, that little know-it-all.

“Fun fact: James Cameron sketched this idea on a napkin,” Joey announced, tossing popcorn into his mouth like a goddamn seagull. I swear he practiced that move in the mirror.

“You’ve told us that three times,” Zoe shot back, sinking into the other couch right against Danny, who had tried to scoot over but had run out of space. She stretched her legs out and flicked a pillow at Joey, smirking when it hit its mark. Damn, her legs are gorgeous, I thought for the hundreth time, my gaze lingering on her smooth, almond-colored skin. I sorta wanted to sneak a touch, just to feel the texture, but that would make me a creep. And I’d probably get my hand slapped.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Hey, respect the classics,” Joey retorted, dodging the next pillow with theatrical flair. He was such a drama queen, always trying to be the center of attention.

I leaned into the corner of the couch, my focus divided between the screen and Emily, who sat beside me. She’d curled up with a bowl of chips, her green eyes lighting up at the explosions on the screen, and my body felt like it was about to explode as well. Her shoulder pressed lightly against mine, and every so often, her fingers brushed mine as we both reached for the bowl. Stop moving Emily, I thought, you’re going to make me hard. Her touch sent shivers down my spine, little sparks of electricity that had nowhere to go. I had to remember to act casual, cool, like I didn’t notice. I wanted her hand to linger.

“You know, Terminator was revolutionary for its time,” Emily said, her voice animated. “The way it combined practical effects with early CGI—this movie basically paved the way for modern sci-fi.” God, she’s so smart, and beautiful. She knew so much about everything.

“You sound like Joey,” Ryan quipped from across the room, earning a laugh from Emily. He was such a jealous shit.

“Please,” Emily said, grinning. “I’m way more insightful.” She's probably right. She was probably way more insightful than all of us put together.

The room filled with laughter, but I caught the slight tilt of Emily’s head, the way her ponytail brushed against her neck as she turned to me. Her excitement was infectious, and I found myself watching her more than the movie, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest.

When the credits rolled, Zoe grabbed the remote, spinning it in her hand like a baton, and I knew things were about to get messy. “Okay, my turn to pick the next one,” she announced, leaning back like she’d already won the argument. She was sitting way too close to Danny. Poor guy was perched by the armrest like he was ready to leap off the couch at any second. His face was flushed, his shoulders stiff, and he kept shifting like he thought maybe—maybe—he could scoot over and escape. Spoiler: he couldn’t. Zoe wasn’t going to let him. She was leaning in, brushing his arm just enough to drive him insane, and I swear, she was doing it all on purpose.

“No way,” Ryan said, sitting up straight. “You already picked this one.” Of course he was ready to argue. He was such a predictable tool.

“Excuse me?” Zoe raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with mock outrage. She casually shifted closer to Danny, her thigh now pressed against his. He looked like he might explode. “We all agreed on Terminator.”

She had to be lying. She always did. That didn’t stop her from flashing Danny a sly smile as she said it, her shoulder brushing his. He laughed nervously, the sound halfway between “please help” and “I might die.”

“You pressured us into it,” Ryan argued, crossing his arms. “It’s Emily’s turn. She’s the biggest sci-fi nerd here.” Oh yeah, she is. She probably knew more about this stuff than most directors.

Emily perked up, her grin widening. “Finally, someone acknowledges my superior taste.”

Goddamn, she’s adorable, I thought, watching the way her whole face lit up. Meanwhile, poor Danny was squirming like he was sitting on hot coals, and Zoe was relentless. She tilted her head toward him, whispering something I couldn’t hear, but the way Danny’s ears turned bright red told me everything I needed to know. The kid’s doomed.

“Superior is a stretch,” Joey muttered, earning a half-hearted kick from Emily. He was just jealous that she got all the attention.

“Fine,” Zoe said, waving the remote like it was a sword. “Emily can pick next, but I get the one after that. No backsies.” Her tone was playful, but she didn’t stop leaning into Danny, her hand brushing his arm as she adjusted her position. He looked ready to either faint or bolt, and honestly? It was hilarious.

Ryan groaned. “Not Blade Runner. It’s so slow,” he said. He always liked his movies fast, loud, and stupid.

“It’s atmospheric,” Emily shot back, her tone firm but playful. “And a masterpiece.” I had to agree with her on that one.

The debate spiraled from there, with Ryan lobbying for Starship Troopers. “It’s not a crap movie!” he argued, gesturing with a half-eaten pretzel. He really loved that movie, it was kind of endearing, in a weird way.

“Oh please,” Zoe said, crossing her arms as she leaned against the couch, her thigh still pressed against Danny’s. “You just want to see the naked girls.” Her tone was sharp, but her grin was playful, her eyes flicking to Ryan like she’d just called out the most obvious thing in the world. She wasn’t wrong. Ryan was that predictable.

Danny shifted uncomfortably, his face so red I thought it might start glowing. Zoe, of course, noticed. She noticed everything. She let out a mock sigh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was about to do, and reached behind the couch. A second later, she pulled out a blanket, spreading it over her lap. “Here,” she said, draping it over Danny’s legs. “You look cold. Can’t have that.”

Danny blinked, his whole body stiffening like the blanket weighed a hundred pounds. “Uh, I’m fine,” he stammered, but Zoe just smiled, settling in closer as if that settled it. Her shoulder brushed his, and she tilted her head toward him, her dreadlocks spilling over her shoulder.

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh as Danny gave a nervous laugh that sounded more like a dying engine. He looked like he wanted to crawl into the couch and disappear, and Zoe? She was loving every second of it.

Ryan paused, his mouth half-open to respond. Before he could come up with anything, I leaned back on the couch, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Are you sure you want to watch that scene in these clothes?” I asked, gesturing at the sheer loungewear, and god I hoped he didn't. I might lose it. I was already about to lose it just by sitting here with Emily.

Ryan blinked, then nodded as if giving the idea serious thought. “Huh. Good point.” He was such an idiot, I couldn’t believe how obvious I was. I wanted to smack myself, but it was still funny.

The room erupted in laughter, even as Zoe rolled her eyes. “You’re predictable,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s honestly kind of sad.” She was probably laughing at all of us.

“Predictable or consistent?” Ryan shot back, leaning into the arm of his chair with his usual smugness. “You say sad, I say dependable.”

He’s trying, I’ll give him that. Ryan could be so dumb sometimes, but there was something almost endearing about how hard he tried to make his arguments sound logical. Almost.

“That’s one word for it,” Emily muttered, amusement clear in her voice as she reached for another chip. Her fingers brushed mine, and I swear my entire body lit up like I’d been zapped with a taser. Calm down, Rossi. Don’t be weird.

“Alright, alright,” Danny cut in, his voice squeaking slightly as he raised his hands like he was calling for a ceasefire. “Let’s settle this. How about The Matrix? Sci-fi, action, no naked people—unless you count Neo in the pod.” His voice cracked just a little at the end, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Good idea, Danny. Please, let’s stop talking about naked people before you combust.

Joey, who had been quiet up until now, perked up, his grin widening. “But it’s a really gross pod scene. That should count.” Of course, Joey would focus on that. The guy always zeroed in on the weirdest parts of movies.

“Not the same, Joey,” Danny said, his tone slightly strangled as he dodged a popcorn kernel Joey lobbed at him. “Not the same.”

Meanwhile, Zoe had made herself at home. She’d leaned her head on Danny’s shoulder, her hands tucked under the blanket she’d spread over the two of them. Where her hands were exactly? No clue. But judging by Danny’s bright red ears and the way his voice kept cracking, I could guess he was losing his mind. She shifted slightly, her body pressed closer, and Danny froze like a deer in headlights. It was hilarious. Poor guy couldn’t even figure out where to put his arms.

“Children,” Emily muttered, rolling her eyes at Joey and Danny’s antics before turning to Ryan. “The Matrix isn’t a bad idea, but it’s not going to win. We need something with actual artistic merit.” She punctuated the point with a look that could have killed any argument dead.

“Exactly,” Zoe chimed in, a slight blush showing on her face, her voice smooth and playful, as she adjusted herself under the blanket. Danny flinched slightly but didn’t dare move. “Artistic merit. Thank you, Emily.”

Ryan groaned, leaning back with his arms crossed. “Fine. Just let the women take over, as usual.”

“Finally,” Emily said, her grin widening. “So… Blade Runner? Philosophical androids, atmospheric brilliance—it’s perfect.”

Ryan muttered something under his breath about pretentious androids, but the decision had already been made. The crew resigned themselves to Emily’s pick, the women victorious again. No complaints here, I thought, leaning back with a smirk.

The real entertainment wasn’t on the screen, though. It was Danny, stiff as a board under Zoe’s blanket, trying not to melt into a puddle of awkwardness. And Zoe? She was having the time of her life. Poor kid never stood a chance.

At least Emily sat by me tonight, a small victory, I guess, but it was enough to make my brain melt. And Chris seemed happy to sit by Joey tonight, they were sort of touchy with each other, their arms touching, and their legs entwined. Shouldn’t that feel weird and gross? It was like some sort of weird, forbidden fruit that I knew I shouldn’t be looking at, but I couldn’t help it.

Oh god, stop it Luca, and focus on Emily. Just focus on Emily, her laugh, her eyes, her gorgeous green eyes. Stop, Luca, I thought, just breathe.