“... Cat? Heeey, Cat?” I was blinking as I took in the intrusion into my consciousness that had ripped me from my trance. In front of me, on the workbench, was an almost finished prototype for the true air-taser, my latest project. But almost finished was not finished, so I focused on the intruder into the sanctum of my workshop. Sophia was standing in the door, a huge smile on her face.

“I’m free! Schooool’s out for summer! Nooo, more peeencils, nooooo more books, nooo more teacher’s dirty loooooks!” Sophia was singing to a tune only she could hear, demonstrating that singing was not in her skill-set.

But I was happy to have her here, the last two weeks had been a little lonely, not that I did not enjoyed talking to Galatea but more human contact than wishing the cashier at the convenience store a nice day was appreciated.

I stood and thought about hugging her when I realized that I had not showered since before I went shopping, three days earlier. “Hello Sophia, good to see you. Why do you not take a seat in the living room and I take a shower? Then I am all yours.” I said with a smile.

There was a bit of a question in her eyes, but she simply acquiesced and left the room, allowing me to get to the bathroom. The shower had been one of the projects I had tackled directly after moving into the bunker full-time and it was glorious.

Any sane being would call it an extreme waste of resources, but to me, it was worth it. In each wall of the extra-large shower-enclosure was a shower head, in addition to the one in the ceiling. Each individual shower head was larger and had more pressure than a normal one, allowing me to almost swim upright. Of course, the drain had been modified as well, or I would quickly drown, which would be embarrassing. So, with five shower heads working at not-quite pressure-washer levels, I was quickly clean and could simply stand there and luxuriate in the warm deluge.

But I did not want to keep Sophia waiting, so I did not take my time, as I loved to, but activated the warm-air jets, drying me in moments, before exiting the enclosure and dressing, thanking the stars that I no longer needed to live up to my fathers standards, or even those of Grace. As I did so, I asked Galatea to start the coffee-maker, another one of my projects. It was not as overbuilt as the shower, but fully automated allowing Galatea to make an awesome cup of coffee without any manual input, other than buying the coffee-beans in the first place. To do that, she would have to use the warehouse, having something sent there without receipt, something I did not want, at this point.

Thus, when I joined Sophia in the living room, the smell of coffee permeated the air, promising aromatic delights. There was a reason that I bought coffee by the hundredweight, happily paying the price for imported, jamaican coffee. It was, quite simply, my biggest vice, my drug of choice, the thing I could not live without. I had to struggle briefly with myself, to first give Sophia a hug and a small kiss, before getting myself a cup, I knew the coffee-maker would understand.

I offered her a cup as well and managed to suppress a wince when she desecrated it with tons of sugar, making me wonder if she would manage to reach saturation. Sitting next to each other, I queued up some light music and a nice scenic view on the large screen in front of us, before talking.

“So, what are your plans now, that you are freed from school? Go after the Omegas full time?” I asked Sophia.

“Omegas? My plan is to relax, spend time with you and enjoy myself.”

Her statement was quite surprising to me, I had anticipated that she would want to go after her enemies with a vengeance, now that we had time for it. I knew I would want to prioritise them, if I was her, but I was also aware of my own monomanic tendencies, preferring to focus on a single issue until it was dealt with. But I should explain who I was talking about.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“The Omegas are the street-gang we have hit before. I thought you would want to go after them, so I gathered information on them. If you want to go after them, I have some ideas what to hit” I explained.

Sophia started to smile and not a pretty smile. “Yes. I want to go after them, but not now. For the next week, I just want to relax and recharge.”

Her idea of recharging included physical closeness, something she got by turning on the sofa, placing herself in my lap and proceeded to erase all cognitive thought, narrowing my world to a pair of lips, warm breath and soft skin.

We spent quite some time on the sofa, until Sophia decided that we should go out again. A quick look on the clock showed me that it was late afternoon, it was easy to lose track of time down in my bunker.

Going out, I was blinded by the bright sunlight, realizing that I had not left my bunker for the last few days and that I should set myself a schedule to get some sun, or I would turn into a mushroom, obsessed with my work, only leaving the bunker to procure sustenance, which would be unhealthy. For now, I was quite happy to exchange my normal pair of glasses with a tinted pair. It was interesting, I had gotten used to the convenience of my glasses within days, the utility of having Galatea provide information and measurements was just incredible. I also enjoyed that they made me look a little older and just a bit more mature. It might just be an unconscious bias on my part, but it was there. Galatea had capitulated when I asked her opinion, joking that it was akin to a wife asking her husband if a particular dress made her look too big. Sophia had just accepted the glasses as part of my new identity, along my new name.

Outside, I learned that Sophia wanted to go to the mall, once again. I was not really opposed, even if I felt a little strange, walking outside when tomorrow would be a funeral with me as the main guest. Well, with Alexandria King as the main guest. Sophia had told me that Grace had asked if she wanted to attend but Sophia had demurred, citing that it would cause conflict between herself and Clark, spoiling the funeral. In reality, she did not want to be forced to fake her grief, it felt wrong to her. I did not even want to think about it, it just felt weird, knowing that my father and brother would be there, displaying their grief and possibly using the fact that I was gone to their own advantage. As a result, I banished all thought about upcoming funerals from my mind and simply enjoyed the trip with Sophia.

In contrast to the last time we had been at the mall, this time, we happily held hands and shared small affections from time to time, as we window-shopped. As we did, I realized that I could buy and wear whatever I wanted, unconstrained by any opinion but my own. I would take Sophia’s opinion into account, but I could also disregard it, if I wanted to. It was a rather heady feeling, the knowledge that nobody would tell me what to wear or criticize me for it.

At the same time, it reminded me that I was fully responsible for what I did and the results of my actions. Freedom and responsibility, two sides of the same coin.

What was funny, however, was that when I started to try on the more extreme dress-options, things I would have never dared to wear in my old identity, I realized that I did not enjoy wearing them, that I felt deeply uncomfortable in them. So, after a foray into very short skirts and too tight tops, I returned to the familiar comfortableness of pants and conservative blouses. I picked out a few things I was in need of some more clothes, but my overall style of dress remained conservative and practical. A few things were rather androgynus but I simply enjoyed the comfortable fit of them, so I had no problem with the fact that the blouse could almost work as a shirt, if worn by a guy.

We spent the rest of the afternoon at the mall, even as the siren’s call of my lair grew stronger by the minute, calling to me that I had work on my bench, that there was science to be done. I forced myself to focus on Sophia, I had not been able to spend time with her for two weeks, I owed her my attention and we did have fun.

At the end of the day, I brought her to her bus stop, sending her off with a gentle kiss, before making my way home, slightly wary when I remembered the incident we had broken up after the meeting with the Shadowbroker. I felt vulnerable, something I did not enjoy. It brought the plans I had made to the forefront, the idea to change my DNA to make me stronger and the gear I had planned to wear at all times. I would have to make it a priority, for my own peace of mind.