It's hours later when I head out to the garage to check on Rick. There are tons of things to talk to him about; Shane and I had worked out a rough plan to keep him out of SynDeCorp's clutches. But when I unlock and open the door, the chair is sitting there empty with zip-ties littered all over the floor.

For a moment I think one of those SynDeCorp goons has snuck into my garage and stolen Rick, but even as I think it I know it can't be true. The door was still padlocked, and they would have wheeled him out in that convenient chair.

He's hiding in here.

"...Rick?" I whisper–not sure why, since it’s just the two of us in here, but I can’t help but keep my voice soft and quiet.

He must have been standing right next to the door, flat against the wall because when he moves he's right next to me and then I'm swept up in a tight hug and he's kissing my head and saying, "Honey, I was so worried," he's picked me up, hugging me, so I wrap my arms and legs around him as he's murmuring, "I missed you," he says, breath against my neck, "I need to feel close to you,” he whispers, pressing his cheek against my collar bone and pulling himself gently against me as I cradle his shoulders in my arms. His voice quivers with uncertainty and a bit of fear as he speaks, "I can’t feel the sync anymore. I don't know how to—I don’t know what to do—”

He leans away from me and shakes his head in that same way he did earlier, then sets me down.

"I don't like this. I don't know what you need." He rubs a hand over his closely cropped hair. "Do you want—?”

He starts to shake his head again and I stop him, wrapping my arms around his neck and snuggling up, I try to soothe him, "Shhhh, it's alright. It's going to be okay. We aren't synched right now, but that just means we'll do a lot of regular, verbal communicating until this is sorted out, alright?"

"I'm synched to you, Honey. I'll always be synched to you as long as I'm operating. I'm yours. I just can't access your implant, so I don't know what you need from me right now. I don't know how to make you happy. I-I'm broken–I'm just a broken thing—”

"Shhhh," I squeeze him tight, my heart aching for him. "Listen, I'm so glad you're still here and SynDeCorp didn't get you. You're making me happy just being here. And I can tell you're having a hard time being offline, but you're doing great. You've been through so much, and you're doing the best you can. I’m fine, okay? I promise."

He takes another deep calming breath. Then, quietly, "Stay with me for a little bit?"

"Of course." I squeeze him again, trying to impart comfort and calm. "Let’s clean up in here and get all of this junk out. We can at least make this room comfortable for you."

So we work tirelessly for two hours. It would have been easier if I had moved the car out of the garage, but I was paranoid those SynDeCorp guys were watching me. If they don't already know Rick is hidden in the garage, I don't want to tip them off. I squeeze around and lift stuff over the hood of the car until all that's left is the lawnmower. Why the heck do we even have a lawnmower? We don't have any lawn at all, just trees, shrubs and mulch. Everything is meticulously maintained by a landscaping service. Anyway, I had a pretty hard time getting the mower around the car. Rick wanted to help, but I reminded him to stay in the shop. The last thing I need is him shutting down and dropping a lawnmower on himself.

Rick is busy sweeping and dusting the shop which turns out to be a pretty big space once everything is cleared out.

While we're busy, I think on what Rick said about still being synced. After I'd talked to Shane, I had the idea that when Rick ‘woke up’ with no signal directing him, he wouldn't be synced. I guess that was just speculation, and not accurate. He says he is synced, but just can't feel it. Well, probably the directive is still there. To be with me and make me happy, but without the actual link he can't guess what I would want him to do until I tell him?

He's used to knowing how I feel all day, even when I'm away. Now that he doesn't, it's probably got him off-kilter. And I wish I had some idea how his brain really works. It's clearly not the same as a regular biological human brain if he insists we're still ‘synced’ even when he's not receiving any kind of signal.

But he's definitely not run by an AI housed at SynDeCorp if he's able to think, talk and function just fine when he's in a Faraday cage.

I wish Shane was here. He's a lot more tech-savvy than I am; he could puzzle this out and then we'd have a better idea of how to keep Rick safe and keep him from getting shut down remotely again.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

All these worries swirling around in my head are tiring me out just as much as the work of turning the shop into a comfortable place for Rick to stay.

I found an air mattress in the guest room closet along with some extra bedding, so I'm bringing that all downstairs to the garage when Borg gets in front of me, almost tripping me as she meows loudly while rubbing against my legs.

"You're a ridiculous thing!" I admonish her as I set all my bundles on the couch. I go to press the button on her food dispenser and tell her, "Most cats learn how to press this button themselves after four days. Did you know that? Pay attention now, watch."

Of course she doesn't watch the button pressing, only pays attention to the bowl where food is deposited as she purrs loudly. I pet her a few times then go gather up all the stuff again.

Out in the shop, Rick is sitting quietly in a corner with his legs drawn up, his head resting on his knees, his eyes closed when I come out. For a moment I think he may have been shut down again, but he slowly lifts his head.

"I brought a bed,” I tell him happily, trying to be cheerful to help his mood. I set up the air mattress and start making up the bed when I finally notice that he's been still and silent, watching me this whole time.

"Rick, is something wrong?"

"Yes.” When he doesn't elaborate, I stop what I'm doing and go sit next to him on the hard floor. I grab his hand, squeezing it in mine and say, “Tell me what's bothering you.”

He sighs, staring at our hands. "I am supposed to take care of you and be everything you need. That is my directive. I should be making you dinner. You should be happy and relaxed right now if I was doing what I'm made to do. Instead I'm out here in a closet, disconnected and useless." He hangs his head. "Why are you working so hard to keep something that can't function properly anymore?"

I snuggle up to his side, holding his arm and resting my head on his shoulder, "You are functioning, Rick. You're awake and communicating your feelings and worries to me and you're capable of that because you're a person. No matter how you're put together, you're your own person. And I know that now. So I want to take care of you as well as I can for as long as you need," I hold his hand up and kiss his knuckles, "You have to know how I feel about you. That I'm in love with you."

"...Still?"

I nod my head, painfully aware that he doesn't say it back.

"Prove it," he says–now looking directly at me.

"How?" I ask him. I'd do anything to see this dejection gone from him. It doesn't suit him and it's breaking my heart to see it.

"If you still want me like you did when we were properly synched, then show me. Take your clothes off, come here."

I recoil a bit, but I realize that he's being a bit of an asshole on purpose. Giving me an opportunity to reject him without any guilt or fault.

I don't want to reject him though.

I get up, and before I can grow self-conscious and rethink things, I'm pulling off my clothes and revealing every single part of myself to him. I know I don't have an ideal body. I love the way I look, but I'm no lingerie model with my generous hips, soft belly and lack of definition. I'm strong from my job and my workout schedule, but I don't look like it because any muscle is hidden under chubbiness.

Rick looks at me with hungry eyes though. Like he's looking at something he covets more than anything in the world, and it makes me feel beautiful. When I move within reach he's grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him to settle on his lap, legs spread with my knees on either side of his hips–my nakedness right up against his hardness that's still covered by sweatpants.

His chaste little kisses against my lips, face, and neck are a sharp contrast to the punishing grip he has on my hair. I can tell he isn't synced to me because the hair pulling is rough and jarring when he usually applies exactly the right amount of pressure in everything he does.

It turns me on more though–this is real. This is him pulling my hair exactly as much as he wants to, and it's turning me on so much and I have an empty, needy feeling I want to address.

My hands are scrambling at his waist band, trying to pull it down between us, but he's not helping me at all. He holds my hair in one hand and the other snakes down my pants.

"You're so desperate for me, Honey. You need it don't you?"

"Yes!"

"Then tell me you're mine," he demands as he teases me.

"I'm yours," I assure him fervently, "All yours."

He's quickly pushed down his waistband and frees himself, rubbing against me torturously slow and not penetrating at all as he holds me up and still by my hair.

"You're so pretty like this, Honey. Begging and dripping on my cock…I love it." Rick lets go of my hair, grabs hold of my hip, and finally lowers me down. He does it slowly as his shaft spreads me open, making me stretch to take every inch of him and I’m savoring it until I'm flush against him. I can't help a quick roll of my hips, giving my button some of the friction it needs.

Rick tuts, "No ma'am, not like that. Not yet." He grabs my hips with both hands lifting me, and then moving me back down, "like this. Work yourself up and down."

I do and, god, it's such a tease. His thick length is filling me over and over and I love it, but I need to come.

"Such a good girl," he encourages me, "You feel so good riding me. You were made for this, you know that?"

I just whimper, I can't manage words as I move faster and faster, up and down, trying to come without the direct stimulation I need.

"Fuck! Keep that up. I’m going to--"

"Yes!" I cry, slamming down on him once, twice, and then his face screws up in a snarl and I swear, I can feel him filling me.

I lose control, rocking my body against his, putting pressure exactly where I need it as he's coming inside me. It's so good, my whole body is shaking in the aftermath.

I can't believe how amazing that was, even without the sync.

He's holding me close in a tight-squeezing hug, his face buried in my neck.

"Stay with me tonight?" he asks quietly.

"Of course." I hug him in return, feeling closer to him and more in love with him than ever.