A Heart in the Machine (Serial Designation V x Reader)

Chapter 20: Preparing for Prom

She trails off, shaking her head sharply, as if snapping herself out of a thought she doesn't want to finish. Her smirk flickers back into place, though it feels forced this time. "I hope N brings you a clown outfit," she says breezily, though her voice lacks its usual bite. "I think that'd suit you."

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden deflection, but decide not to push further. V's already leaned back again, her usual teasing mask slipping back into place, though her fingers still linger near the brooch.

A sudden buzzing noise draws your attention to V, who's casually pulling an old, cracked smartphone from her coat pocket. She glances at the screen, her expression unreadable as her sharp yellow eyes scan the message. Without a word, she types a response, the tapping of her fingers against the shattered glass loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Then, without warning, she stands up. "Thanks for letting me out," she says, her tone nonchalant, though there's a hint of curiosity there. "I have no idea why you'd do something that stupid, but... thanks."

You watch, frowning as she heads toward the ladder. "Wait, where are you going?" you ask, alarm creeping into your voice.

She pauses, throwing a glance over her shoulder. "Girl stuff," she replies, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Don't worry your little processor about it. I'll be back later."

Your frown deepens, suspicion gnawing at you. "You're not—" You hesitate, trying to find the right words. "You're not planning to, I don't know, murder anyone, right?"

V snickers, turning around to face you fully. "Wow, no trust. I said I wouldn't, didn't I?" Her voice carries a mock-offended edge, but for some reason, you find yourself believing her.

"I... guess you did," you admit reluctantly.

Her smirk widens, and she brushes a strand of silver hair over her shoulder. "Good. I'll be back before the golden retriever returns from playing fetch."

Without waiting for your response, she climbs the ladder and swings open the hatch. "Thanks again," she tosses over her shoulder, and with one last amused grin, she disappears outside, the hatch slamming shut behind her.

You sit there in stunned silence for a moment, staring at the empty space where she'd just been. "What the hell..." you mutter under your breath.

It finally sinks in. You're sitting in the middle of nowhere, inside a Disassembly Drone's ship, completely alone. Uzi is back at the bunker with Thad, N is off skeleton-hunting, and V—possibly the most dangerous person you've ever met—is out there doing girl stuff. Whatever that means.

Your gaze drifts to the bolt cutters still sitting on the floor, and you can't help but laugh quietly to yourself, though it's more nervous than anything. Somehow, you've managed to land yourself in a situation so absurd you wouldn't believe it if someone else told you.

"What am I even supposed to do now?" you mutter.

You sit there for a while, lost in thought, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. On one hand, the logical thing to do would be to return to the bunker. Uzi and Thad are back there, and your job is to fix things—keep the place from falling apart. But on the other hand, you haven't been killed yet, which is... kind of a relief? You're not sure if it's because they trust you or if it's something else entirely. Either way, it feels like you should keep your distance from the bunker for now. You can't shake the feeling that keeping an eye on the disassembly drones might be important—especially for the safety of everyone else. Although, you have just allowed both of them to leave, so you already failed that task.

It's a lot to handle.

In an attempt to focus, you stand up and begin pacing around the small interior of the ship. Your fingers brush against the worn tools scattered about, and for some reason, you find yourself picking them up and starting small repairs, tightening bolts, fixing random components. The clinking of metal against metal is oddly soothing.