Almost three weeks had passed since their last meeting. It was precious time that was slipping through their fingers, for they didn't know how much of it they had left. Artyom Gromov, the powerful cyborg of Project Lazarus, was on his way south to Elysium. Once he reached the city, he could pose a greater danger to its inhabitants than the crawler threat, which was now largely contained. Of course, the TRAP agency had not been idle. They had needed time to prepare their plan, though it had not been an easy undertaking for anyone involved. In more ways than one.

"Let me check the place again to make sure everything has healed properly," Yanny said, looking over at Harry who had taken a seat to her right as the rising wind played with her hair. The two of them had settled right on the roof of the headquarters, the sprawling and luxurious mansion on North Beach. They watched the sunset from there. The roof had its own access and a round concrete platform that, judging by its dimensions, was probably intended as a helipad. However, the previous owner never seemed to have used it. Harry smiled now, but did not take his eyes off the glaring light that tinted the horizon a fiery orange.

"What place do you want to see?" he asked. Actually, he wasn't sure if she meant his slowly recovering ribs or the new implant Yuri, Abigail and he had had Dr. Frank Stein put in. The doctor had not become any more sympathetic to him since their last visit, but at least he knew his craft and had a lot of practice at what he was doing. The cost of the treatments was also kept within reasonable limits, unless you specifically asked for a government license.

"The back of your head," she explained as a matter of course, moving a little closer to him. "Your chest, meanwhile, is healing quite well, I can tell by the depth of your breathing. However, you'll have to let me examine the area more closely. By the way, you didn't take your calcium tablets today. There are still 32 in the box in the kitchen, just like last ni..." she continued.

"Yanny..." he interrupted her with a sigh.

"What is it?" She looked at him with expectant eyes and made an innocent face. She also raised her voice slightly to hide the fact that she was overdoing it again.

"What did we say about permanent scanning of bodily functions?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. She avoided him, turned her eyes back to the setting sun and began to play with a strand of her hair, giving the impression that she needed to think before answering. Harry had to pull himself together to keep from grinning broadly. She was feigning ignorance quite well, even though her internal memory would have allowed her to replay conversations from months ago with exact wording.

"I'm just worried," she replied quietly, continuing to curl the purple strand of hair around her index finger. They were both silent for a few moments. From time to time, the sound of passing cars and the voices of passersby drifted up to them. Many of them were on their way to the North Beach boardwalk to join the nightlife that was beginning to pick up.

"Yeah, me too," Harry finally nodded, his voice taking on a serious tone again. The upcoming plan would lead to Yanny fighting the cyborg from the Northern Cities sooner or later. He hated the idea, everything in him was against it. She looked at him again, then slowly reached out her hand and gently pushed down the black bandana he wore to hide the freshly operated area and the shaved hair there. Then she felt carefully up his neck to the spot on the back of his head where a jack for a data cable was now implanted. The jack was as small as a dime, and in two months his hair would completely cover the area again. Sensors in Yanny's fingertips allowed her to determine the temperature of his skin, and a quick zoom of her eyes told her that everything was completely healed. The tissue had bonded flawlessly to the implant, both superficially and deeply. Harry had sat motionless during this little examination.

"Everything is perfectly healed," she said. "And don't worry, the plan will work. You are now ready to connect with my subconscious and remove the barrier to my fighting abilities. The rest will be easy," she went on. She sounded confident, but not completely convinced of her own statement. How could she be, considering what kind of opponent this Gromov was. Harry pressed his lips together and exhaled audibly. He cursed himself for not coming up with a better plan to stop this fighting machine.

"What if it's not easy? What if you lose? What if he damages you or d you?" he retorted.

"Then you do the rest. I'll at least make sure he can't do any more damage. Trust me," she replied. Harry's fingers now gripped the shingles he was sitting on.

"You say that so easily, as if it wouldn't be much of a problem if it actually came to that," he replied in a sharper tone than he had intended. She flinched slightly.

"Harry?" she replied carefully.

"Yes?" he returned after a few moments.

"Imagine having a computer. One like Abigail's, the laptop she's been carrying around since Ralph traded it for her at Bonzo's. She's told me the story before."

"Hmm...yeah, well, okay, but what does that have to do with anything?" Harry looked at her questioningly.

"Well, imagine you have a second computer, you take the processor out and connect it to the first one, so it has twice the power, or rather can calculate more things at once," she continued. Harry nodded, but still looked at her uncomprehendingly.

"Twice as much..." he repeated.

"And then two more processors, so you'll have four in total, quadrupling the power."

"Um, yeah?" He still had no idea what she was getting at.

"Now imagine you have a hundred of these processors... and then a thousand. Put them all together and you get unimaginably powerful computing power... Harry?", her voice had taken on an unfamiliar tone that he hadn't heard from her before. He looked directly into her eyes. They were enchantingly beautiful, and yet he could read nothing in them. He suspected that she was trying to prevent him from doing so by suppressing the reaction of her pupils.

"Yes?" he asked back quietly.

"Tell me, how many processors do you need to link together so that they eventually become human? How much processing power do you need?" Harry's face contorted slightly at this statement and he shook his head.

"Is that what this is about? You mean, because you're not human, it's not so bad if you actually get destroyed during this mission? Is that it? Because you have no organic >life< to lose?" Again, his tone was harsher than he intended. Then something unexpected happened. She slowly lowered her head and two tears ran down her cheeks. Harry was stunned at first. He knew she was capable of all sorts of physical reactions, but he had never seen her cry. He took off his scarf and gently dabbed at her cheeks.

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"I'm sorry, I can't really control it. This emotion thing is..." she started to explain. Harry just shook his head gently again and slowly lowered the scarf.

"What would you do if I died? So far, everything has turned out well, but we still don't have a safe job with this agency. That's what we decided to do, and we've already won more than we ever dared to dream. Still, it could happen someday, couldn't it? So how would you feel if I died? Or Abigail? Yuri? Ralph?"

"I don't know what I'd do if you died. It would be terrible, it's the most terrible thing I can imagine," she replied meekly.

"Then you know what it would be like for me. What makes you think it would be any different for me if something happened to you? I don't care if you're human or not. I may not fully understand how you were made and how you function, but it doesn't matter. You exist, you are sitting here next to me... you >live<. And I firmly believe that if there were more like you, the world would be a better place. I have never met a kinder, more helpful person," he said calmly. She blushed and finally nodded, almost imperceptibly. He smiled at her, watching her. She no longer avoided his gaze, she was still close to him. Suddenly, he noticed how fast his heart began to beat. A feeling as if he lost himself in her gaze, as if he had a thick lump in his throat. What was this? It came sometimes in the rare moments when they were both alone. Was it her eyes that had suddenly returned to their usual warm and gentle expression? Was it her appearance that seemed so attractive and yet so vulnerable at the same time? Could it really be that...? He wanted to protect her from all the evils of this world as much as he could. But how long would he be able to do that? Because of her nature, she could theoretically exist for hundreds of years without any problems... He was also aware of this. He had been carrying these thoughts and feelings around with him for quite some time, but without finding a clear answer to these confusing emotions. He had to admit that he was not the best when it came to emotions. In his job, he had always had to suppress them as much as possible in order to keep a clear head in dangerous situations, although he had not always succeeded.

"I think I understand now," Yanny finally replied quietly. Then she moved closer so that their upper arms touched. As another light breeze came up, he felt her hand on his, still resting on one of the wide roof tiles. He wanted to say something, but his mouth went dry as she gently ran her fingers over the back of his hand.

"Yanny..." he croaked in a hushed voice.

"You know how we only touch when we're fixing each other?" she answered just as softly, a smile playing around her lips. "Have you ever noticed that?" He had to concentrate to answer her unexpected question.

"Thinking back, yes, you're right," he replied. He had removed the bullet from her abdomen back on the Sea Lord, which had penetrated all the way to her spine. Yanny, on the other hand, had always taken care of his broken ribs and other injuries.

"Only once, on the ship, did you take my hand to pull me away from that sniffing ring announcer," she continued. He nodded and smiled. Then he turned his hand and took hers, sliding his fingers into hers.

"You remember that little detail?"

"Of course," she replied, pursing her lips. "I can tell you the date and the exact time, I remember it. I keep important events in my archives forever." His heart beat a little faster and he was aware that it was almost impossible that she hadn't noticed. That touch, that brief gesture had been so important to her that she had stored it in her memory forever.... Was there perhaps a real possibility that...?

"Damn, I'm going crazy here!" Ralph's loud voice rumbled up from below. Then there was a crash and more angry noises.

"Huh?" Yanny said, getting up to walk further forward on the roof and look down. Harry grunted in displeasure. Why did they have to be disturbed at this particular moment? What was it this time? He got up as well and cautiously walked forward. Ralph was standing below, kicking the bumper of the agency car once more, its hood open.

"What's going on?" Harry called down. Ralph, who looked up in surprise to see the two on the roof, gave them a quick wave.

"I don't know what's wrong with the car. Of course it must be now, when I wanted to go shopping. There are shortened hours in the neighborhood today, and now the damn car has to die on me!" he cursed.

"I can take a look at it in a minute," Yanny replied. There was no doubt that she would find the fault, as she had a good eye for mechanical things. Of course, Ralph knew that too.

"Yes, of course, madam. Okay, I'll take the lawn mower instead. Takes a little longer, but it's better than walking," the old punk yelled back in relief. He knew his car like the back of his hand, but he was still glad for her help.

"The lawn mower?!" Harry asked somewhat incredulously. The question was answered by Ralph's grumbling laugh as he trudged over to his riding mower, parked on the east side of the garden fence. He loved that thing, and the mansion's lawn looked squeaky clean from its extensive use.

"Sure!" he bleated from below. Then he jumped on the mower and started the engine. Booming rattles filled the romantic evening silence as Ralph drove the misappropriated vehicle toward the gate, then turned onto the road at a walking pace and with a loud >Yeehaw!<.

"There goes another nasty letter from the neighbors," Harry sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"No problem, I've already created a folder to collect them all. There have been quite a few lately," Yanny chuckled and then walked slowly towards the roof hatch. "I'll take a look at the engine. We may need the car quickly, you shouldn't put something like that on the back burner," she explained dutifully. She loved to make herself useful.

"Uh-huh," Harry replied slightly sourly. He watched as she slowly disappeared through the hatch. Then her head popped up again and she smiled at him, only to disappear again. That made him laugh. Then he trotted to the hatch as well. His stomach announced itself. It was time to prepare dinner.