She had always hated parties. She hated the mundane questions about her occupation, and whether or not she had found someone to marry. The inviting aroma from the open bar had tempted her too many times and she couldn't resist visiting it again, until a violet light highlighted his prominent cheekbones, sharper than a chef's knife. Her eyes flickered to his presence. There he was, fiddling with his cape, awkwardly. It was so weird seeing him with clothes on after she saved him from the hands of Zinyak. She never really approved of his insistence to wear at least seven belts, and that neon lined jacket with the popped collar that would fit into a Dead or Alive music video perfectly.

She did, however, approve of him as a person. Maybe even admired him. Sure, he whined like a distressed dog whenever she 'accidentally' crashed into someone/something, and he did have a bit of an ego when she first met him, but to her, he was so much more than that. He was her source of consistency, calmness and sincerity. He was always gentle to her, despite taking a punch or two from her. She was the first person to touch his body, to develop a more physical connection with him.

She rushed towards him, carrying two glasses of scotch. She caught his eye, and he turned towards her. She was flustered, blushing excitedly because he noticed her. It was strange because he was the one to ask her to take his virginity, yet he still had the power. She closed her eyes for a moment. Shit, fuck. He's seen me. I can't get him off of my mind.

"I can see you over there, you know." She heard a voice from the corner. Unmistakably English. She opened her eyes. It was him, the cybergod, standing there, staring at her, his hair covering his left eye, the reflective panels of his NyteBlayde suit mirroring the bright violet-suited dancers.

"Jesus. You definitely know how to scare a girl, don't you? Drink?" She said, her accent the same as his. She gazed at him has he took the drink, thinking about how she'd love to hold hands and cuddle with him once again.

"It wasn't in my intention to scare you, at all. I just wanted to ask you how you were. How are you, by the way?" He smiled, staring deeply into her eyes.

"Well, if you're subtly asking me how good your party is on a scale of top banana to shit, then I'm going to have to say pretty shit." She responded, taking a sip of her drink. "I don't even like Scotch. I don't even drink that much. I picked it up just to stop Johnny from flirting with me. Yourself?"

He chuckled. "It's not really my party, per say. Fun Shaundi organised it. Good excuse to get extremely shitfaced, I think."

"Well, how about we get out of here, drive to mine, play a few video games and talk?" She nervously asked. She desperately wanted another chance with him. "You know, as a way to apologise after punching you in the face and giving you a black eye or maybe two black eyes, and probably as you were bleeding a bit after I punched you, I guess I felt bad about punching you because you have a lovely face and I'm also sorry about not believing you when you said that aliens were going to destroy Earth and..."

He leaned in and kissed her lightly mid-sentence. She was so surprised that she dropped her drink and let the glass smash onto the stone floor. "I'd love to do that, as long as you promise not to babble on about something I had already forgotten. And if you make me play Mario Kart, I'll hack into your phone and give all your info to the Daily Mail. Deal?" He said, moving closer to her.

They spent the next four hours at her dark, city apartment out of costume, doing all sorts of things from dancing around her living room to Deadmau5 to singing along to gangster rap to playing Operation on her bed. They enjoyed one another's company, despite her being in her most baggiest Joy Division t-shirt and him wearing his Power Rangers t-shirt that looked way too small for him. Exhausted from all the shenanigans that they had gotten up to, they laid on the bed, side by side, staring at the ceiling.

"Matt... I don't know how to say this, but I think you're the first person I've ever properly... Loved. You're smart, funny, bit of an arrogant dickshit at times, and sometimes you can't dance to save your life, but you're incredibly talented and you're just a wonderful person to be around. I don't have that sort of relationship with anyone. Not even Pierce." She said, fumbling with her silver dove bracelet.

He blinked at her, shocked, his cheeks had a light red tint to them. He turned back to staring at the ceiling. "I ended it with Danielle."

She rolled her eyes slightly, surprised. "I knew that already. I, um, sort of guessed when you asked me if I could call you NyteBlayde."

"I mean, I ended it with her when I was in London. It was because I couldn't stop thinking of you. You and the rest of the Saints were so cool, and you got me hooked on cigarettes for a bit, because they reminded me of you. I didn't abstain from technology, I abstained from wanting to destroy you. I checked every news article about you, and when you called me, I lit up and kinda forgot about that time when I wanted to kill you." He laughed, nervously.

She turned over, facing towards him, moving her hand towards his face to stroke his razor-sharp cheekbones. "Happy birthday, Matt Miller." She said before kissing his cheek gently.

"I don't know about you, but I've got time to kill." He said, grabbing her thigh, kissing her neck as she laughed.

The next morning, everything seemed like a blur to her. She woke up in bed, naked. In his arms. His blue lipstick, smudged and mixed with her red lipstick. She looked under the duvet to see if he was wearing anything from the waist down. He definitely wasn't. She gasped, stared at the cracked ceiling and tried not to laugh. She sat up and rested her back on the headrest, analysing the events of the hazy night. Her black bra was on the floor, as were his dark blue boxers. The floor had an abundance of shot glasses and beer bottles. She lifted her arm to scratch her head until she noticed the bite mark on her shoulder. Um. I knew Miller was kinda into that, but seriously? She had a long, hard think about how she was going to explain this to her teammates, who had arranged to meet for brunch the following morning. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Matt yawning and groaning at the sudden influx of light that had hit his eyes from the open window.

"Morning, if you can call it that. What time is it?" He asked, running his fingers through his greasy looking hair.

"I honestly don't have a clue, I just woke up. Have you ever... You know, considered washing your hair?" She replied, moving the duvet towards her neck to cover herself.

"I do wash my hair! Just... Not that often. It doesn't hold properly when it's constantly washed. And you do realise that I have seen you naked before?" He protested, sitting up so he didn't have to strain his neck by looking up to her.

She checked her phone. 'Shit." She said. "It's already one and I have fifteen missed calls from Ben and Kinzie and they've probably figured out that you stayed the night at mine."

"You shouldn't worry about these things. I mean, it's not like Asha's going to kill you because we made love. She knows that I don't really think like that any more. That and she knows that I know that she sees me as a younger sibling." He reassured her as he kissed her bitten shoulder.

"Ooh, younger siblings. Nice way to kill the mood, Miller. I'm going to get us some breakfast. Want anything in particular, birthday boy?" She said, jumping put of bed to put on his Power Rangers t-shirt and last night's underwear.

"Well, ideally, I would like you, but that's not very nutritional. Have I ever mentioned that you have a particularly nice arse?" He cheekily remarked, clutching the duvet. "Come back, it's cold without you."

She turned back before walking towards the kitchen. "That's pushing it, Miller."

She walked into the spacious monochrome kitchen, taking out two bowls with the Saints fleur de lis on them. Her apartment was so sterile because she had spent so long on the ship with the other Saints. She sighed. Made love? Really, Miller? She poured out some Saints Whoa and paired it with a can of Saints Flow. She felt a slender figure press up against her, arms around her waist.

"Come back to bed, I need a break from writing NyteBlayde fanfiction and hacking into databases." He said in his smooth voice, linking his hands with hers.

"You? Break? NyteBlayde fanfiction? Don't you remember our condition? Never stop writing, Matt." She smiled, turning to face him.

"I can't help if it if your skin is as smooth as artisan leather and if your aroma is intoxicating. That's trying too hard, isn't it?" His childish giggle had turned into a rich chuckle since he came back to Steelport.

"Remember when you wanted to call the ship Neuromancer? Apart from setting out to kill me, it wasn't really your smartest decision." She joked, gazing into his almost-electric blue eyes. She sighed, holding his hand. "I'll come back to bed, but only because it's freezing and I want to go on Reddit and the wifi only works in my room. Okay?"

"Fine by me. Although, I doubt that your little Reddit spree would last very long." He said before picking her up and running with her in his arms to the bedroom.

She returned to the hazy state she was in earlier. She stared out the window. Early evening. Sunset. There he was, towel wrapped around his waist, shower running. She clinged onto her pillow, yawning quietly, staring at his slender frame and relaxed expression. She was wondering why he was leaving her in bed, like he thought she did when she was willing to sacrifice herself to save the world.

"Miller... Are you leaving me?" She whispered, worryingly.

"Oh, god, no. I wouldn't do that. Asha's throwing a poker-slash-pool party and I was going to wake you but you looked... Peaceful. You never really look peaceful when you're punching someone's lights out, so I thought I'd just tell you after you woke up." He said, surprised that she'd think that. "I'm about to have a shower, care to join me?"

"Again? Either you were deprived of giving yourself a hand as a teenager or I'm just too fabulous for you." She said, jokingly. "I smell like hacker. I'd like that."

He guided her to her en-suite bathroom, and helped her undress, giggling as they walked into walls because they were so preoccupied with kissing.

"I hope you're not vegetarian." He said, laughing hysterically.

She broke into a laughing fit. "Oh, Matt! Not this again, fuck me..."

"Sure." He said, rolling his eyes.

"That wasn't a question!" She said, playfully slapping his shoulder.

They stepped into the steam filled shower, giggling. He nuzzled her neck as she closed her eyes, smiling. He wrapped his arms around her shorter physique, lightheartedly kissing her back until she burst out chuckling. She turned round, lightly pulling him in to kiss him. They kissed for what seemed like forever.

"I told you that you'd get used to it." He said in last night's boxers, drying his hair.

"Get used to what?" She said, moisturising.

He smiled, cheekily. "Oh, you know. Seeing me naked and stuff."

"It's been five times now!" She protested, not wanting to admit that she actually loved seeing him like that. "Can you pass me that dress?"

"And here's to another five." He cheerfully said, passing her the black sequin dress she had pointed at.

She picked it up, daintily and quickly put it on. He gazed at her as she struggled to zip it up, trying to piece together how she got her wounds and who she beat to get them. He didn't gaze the way he normally did, which was in scrutiny, he gazed at her in a way he had never done. Not even with Danielle. He gazed at her, lovingly.

"Do you... Want me to help you with that?" He asked her, nervously. He was as nervous as she was when she approached him at the party, if not more.

"That'd be lovely." She said, staring out of the window, deep in thought.

He zipped it up, slowly. "You look absolutely beautiful."

"Thanks." She said, awkwardly. "Matt, I wanna know. Do you think... That we could ever... Be a thing? Like, an actual relationship?"

"That's what I've been thinking, too. I've been wondering if you could be the... Not dead Sylvia to my Franklin Nyte. Would you... like that?" He said, resting his head on her shoulder.

She was taken aback, not sure how to react without jumping all over the place in ecstasy.

"Yes, yes! I'll be the not dead Sylvia to your Franklin Nyte! That's perfect! Yes!" She said, incoherently.

She turned round and he wrapped his muscular arms around her, in a tender embrace.

"I need to stop by mine to get some clothes and stuff. I'll meet you at mine in a bit and then we'll make our way to Aquamarine, ok?" He said before kissing her on the cheek and holding his hand out, waving to say goodbye.

She got out of the purple taxi and entered a whole new world. Skyscrapers flooded the city, the skyline turned into an army of lights. Neon signs advertising products obnoxiously, big screens showcasing plastic dreams that girls aspired to be. An air of cool swished its way around Steelport. Shit. I can't believe Miller coded an even better version of Steelport. This is... Incredible. There it was. Aquamarine. The most exclusive club in all of Steelport, the polar opposite to The Broken Shillelagh. Teal lights highlighted the club from the rest of the high rises in the city, as did the extensive queue leading all the way back a few streets. The bouncer saw her and instantly realised who she used to be. The President of the United States. He admitted that he had been sceptical of her becoming the president of a country she wasn't even from, but accepted some of her policies. He let her in, and gave her a fleur de lis printed key.

Everyone recognised her as soon as she stepped into the club, looking for the Saints. It took some pushing and shoving through the crowds, but she finally entered the private rooftop suite that Asha Odekar had rented for her party. Pierce and Fun Shaundi were in the hot tub, enthusiastically flirting with one another. Asha was spraying a bottle of champagne at Benjamin Motherfucking King, and Johnny and Keith were debating with Kinzie and Shaundi about how many shots they could do before somebody suggested strip poker. Miller was nowhere to be seen, and she couldn't call him because she left her phone at her apartment, and she couldn't possibly ask the rest of the Saints if she could use their phones to contact him. She sulked in a plush white chair, wondering where her NyteBlayde was.

"I swear to god, if you and Miller have been fucking then I will go back to England and marry Prince Harry." Asha said, laughing.

"They're dead, Asha." She said, with regret.

"I forgot. But, I'm an MI6 agent, and he's my assistant. He tells me everything. I'd know if you guys are fucking."

"Asha, it's not fucking, it's... Different. And what has he said?"

"Oh, you know. Usual. 'I can't live without her and she's batshit crazy but I really like her but what if she likes Johnny? You saw how she punched me when I said it was a terrible idea!' All that."

"I said I was sorry! And I don't like Johnny! Not like that!"

"Hey! We had fun on the ship, didn't we?!" Johnny interrupted, faking offence.

"THAT HAPPENED ONCE!" She sternly shouted to Johnny.

"What happened once?" A voice said. The room went silent. Unmistakably English. Worried. Confused.

"Fuck." She said, turning to him.

"What's going on?" He said, baffled.

"Matt, I'm so sorry. I was meant to tell you but..."

He left the room, and took the stairs to the rooftop.

"Shit, fuck, arsetitting fuckwanker!" She shouted, frenzied. "Erm, enjoy your party and stuff. I have things to sort out."

She hastily followed where he went and braved the frosty rooftop in her short dress and heels. He was there, taking a drag, staring out into Steelport's skyline.

"Matt.. No... You just stopped... I know, I've hurt you and everything."

He didn't reply, a single tear falling from his eye. She stumbled slowly towards him, nervous.

"I'm just fragile. Odd. You know what my worst fear is. Things I can't control the outcome of. Just years of having people do it for you with multiple outcomes you don't desire takes it out of you after a long time. I like structure. I don't adapt." He said, taking another long drag.

She stared at him, and closed her eyes for a moment. She sighed.

"We're extremely similar, you and I. Well, now, anyway. I've never had a proper sense of consistency. Ever. And you were sort of my consistency. We both strive for consistency and structure, yet we love breaking the rules. You have to be at least 35 to be President? I'm a few years short. Native-born citizen? Fuck no."

She held out her hand, shivering.

"It happened way before we did the whole virginity taking thing. He compared me to Aisha and it was... Odd. It's also really fucking cold."

He sighed, putting out his cigarette, smiling slightly.

"It's really fucking cold? Damn. Romantic. I know. I just get slightly jealous of these things. I tend to do that. Force of habit."

"Does that mean we can go inside now?"

"Yes."

The pair went back inside the thumping club, hand in hand. He put his jacket over her shoulders, and helped her down the silver metallic stairs.

"Lovers' tiff?" Kinzie said, chuckling.

"Shut up, Agent Kensington." He said, jokingly. Kinzie walked off to Asha's poker game while Matt put an arm around the former President.

They had a few drinks and called it a night, then made their way back to his apartment.

Miller's apartment was odd. Dark, initially. He had at least one chalkboard wall in every room, and neon furniture. His office had a large collection of NyteBlayde posters, and old Deckers' plans. A small meow echoed as he slid open the door leading to the bedroom.

"You have a cat?"

"She's called Kiki."

"Interesting name."

"You know, in memory." He said, tweaking with the light switch.

"I'm just crashing at yours for a bit, okay?" She said, finding relief in taking her heels off.

"Fine by me." He said, undoing his shirt and tie.

The pair laid in bed, cuddling. He reluctantly got up to open his locked black drawer, proud of how secure he made it. He took out a small blue box and slid his finger under the clasp, revealing a box of Decker branded cigarettes. He ran his fingers through his hair and turned to her.

"These ones are... Sort of special." He said, placing one in his mouth so he could light it. "Want some?"

She looked at him, in surprise. Who knew Miller was such a badass? "The hell not?", she replied. He passed her the slim, electric blue tipped cigarette, and she took a drag.

"Why do I always find myself crawling back to you?" She asked, perplexed.

"Could it be because of my cybergod talents, my fabulous hair and wonderful writing skills?" He said, sarcastically.

"Be serious with me, Matt. One minute, you put Asha on a pedestal because you wanna fuck her, then you have Kinzie's nudes in your porn stash, what's next? BDSM with CID?"

He pinched his lip. "You are sort of forgetting that once upon a time, I was down to... Do that."

"Oh god, imagine Miller/Asha babies. Euuurgh." She shivered, clutching onto the white duvet.

"Are we a tiny bit jealous?" He smirked, taking another drag.

She rolled her eyes at him. "No, just slightly... Scared for humanity. Could be worse, could be ginger hacker babies."

"Okay, well, what would our babies be like?"

"Well, they'd be fucking awesome, obviously. And because of you, they'd be super good hackers, fairly sarcastic, takes punches like a champ, bit of a punk phase but we might be able to iron that out, hopefully they get the eyes and the cheekbones. Because I used to be President of the United States, they'd probably have dual citizenship, long flowing hair and self defence skills. Oh, and we'd dress them up in NyteBlayde outfits all the time."

"Can we call one of them Neuromancer?"
"Middle name only. I have Lewis, Alexander, Sophia and Cleo in mind for first names."