Maxswell slumped over the bar counter, his shoulders stiff from a long day of paperwork. His eyelids weighing heavily, threatening to put him to sleep as he wearily stared at his half empty wine glass. The sombre red liquid sat still in the wide glass as Maxswell studied the Venerian wine, whilst catching the eye of the bartender. He was a stout, elderly man with wrinkled joules that drooped and sagged while he dried a pint glass with a cloth.

"You alright there? Maybe it's time you went home…" The man asked, wondering if Maxswell was on the verge of losing his lunch. Maxswell groggily propped himself up on the counter. Trying very hard to remember how many he had. He figured it was about his third or fourth.

"I'll head home when I bloody well feel like it." Maxswell grunted before awkwardly gripping his glass, downing the rest of it in one quick gulp. Being careful as to not spill any of the sour liquid on his dress suit. It proved to be a bit of a challenge…
Maxswell placed his now empty glass back down on the counter.

"A Cerulean Sunrise please."

"I think you've had enough."

"I think you should mind your own business."

"I'm not going to serve you any more, you've drunk nearly two bottles already."
This halted Maxswell from making a retort, as he grimaced in thought. Perhaps he had drunk a little bit too much. He shook his head from his grogginess before trying to muster a threatening glare.

"Cerulean Sunrise I said!" Maxwell griped before the bartender sighed.

"At least you've got the money for it…" The stout man mumbled, as he went to prepare Maxswell's sixth or seventh drink.

In the meantime, Maxswell began looking around the bar, trying to find something to distract him from collapsing on the counter. In the corner of the street bar was a new model of Mood Organ, where a bunch of wealthy youths were gathering. Dialling for various thematic stimulants and emotions for their night ahead. Maxswell thought perhaps he should dial for some stimulants to keep him awake. On the other hand, he didn't want to go anywhere near the stuffy teenagers with rich parents.

He turned his attention outside of the street bar he was in, looking at the verdant and spotless walkways of New Melbourne. High Class shops and bars were attracting the wealthy and rich pedestrians, who were dressed in the latest of fashions. Despite their dress being 'trendy' Maxswell thought they looked rather foolish in their strange and glittery getups.

"The future looks bleak…" Maxswell muttered as his eyelids began to sag once again. Between the outfits with poor taste and the dialled up teenagers, New Melbourne was something of a sparkly fever dream. Still, there was one good thing about the place… It's xenophobia. It made for easy money.

New Melbourne was established not long after Venus was terraformed, where the filthy rich and privileged flocked to their "jungle paradise". Of course in their exodus from earth, they had brought all the Andys a Blade Runner like Maxswell needed to make a comfortable living. Society's elite were utterly terrified of their Skinjob servants and pleasure models. And they paid ludicrous amounts to have their runaway Replicants retired. Being an off world Blade Runner was easy, lots of cash and easy targets. What's not to love? And Maxwell did love it. One of his fondest memories was blasting an Andy right in the middle of a Voight Kampff Test, it had no chance against him. And he revelled in it.

Maxswell continued to stare out onto the sparkly utopian street for a moment longer, right when a girl stepped into view…
She was a bombshell. Waist length blonde hair, legs that went on forever and flawless skin. She was rich to boot, the elaborate glass necklace she wore glowed softly. Maxwell thought the glass was forged from Titan, Jupiter's largest moon. She also wore a pair of fiery jewelled earrings, probably from Mars. She was the kind of Woman that was way out of Maxswell's league…

Still… Nothing wrong with looking…

As the girl disappeared Maxswell began to feel tired once again. He looked around the bar impatiently, at this rate he was going to fall asleep, well before his drink arrived.
He slumped back onto the counter, forming a cradle with his arms before resting is head on them.
He had to keep himself preoccupied somehow, he began to remember something that would keep him awake. He closed his eyes to help him picture something, anything that came to mind. Searching for something to keep him going.

He then found himself on one of the many verdant high streets of New Melbourne. Standing amidst the green space of the Venerian flora, looking up at the stormy swirls of the methane rich skies. Suddenly, he felt something warm and gentle grab him firmly by the hand and tugging him along.

Maxswell turned to see the most stunning woman he'd ever seen. She had a perfectly heart shape face, and the softest supple skin he'd ever felt. She had jet black hair that she wore in a short bob. Wearing a thigh high skirt and matching blouse. Maxswell could only stare dumbly into this mysterious beauty's eyes as she led him along by the hand. Maxswell thought he must've fallen asleep, there was no way he'd forget a girl this gorgeous. He had to be dreaming.

The girl opened her mouth and spoke, yet no words came out of her mouth and she appeared to giggle. An unexpected goofy smile appeared on Maxswell's face as the woman of his dreams skipped ahead of him, still holding his hand tightly. 'Who was this girl?' He thought to himself, 'Was she mute?' He had to be dreaming. The night was vivid and lively, patrons were out raucously drinking and were loud about it, probably high off thematic stimulants.

Maxswell couldn't care less, he had a drop dead beauty in his hands, and who knew where the night would lead him. They took a left and wound up in a flash bar. Head's turned as the beauty walked in, before they shifted to envious glares as they saw Maxswell in tow. The dame released him from her warm embrace before moving over to stand by the counter. It was a perfect time for Maxswell to get a good look at her figure. Slender waist and killer hips.

'Godamn.' Maxswell thought.

She gave him a casual glance expecting him to come over to her, Maxswell whole heartedly complied. The girl talked to the man behind the counter and apparently ordered them a drink. Maxswell couldn't tell, he couldn't hear her. She turned to face him and he couldn't help but lose himself in her lightning blue eyes.

The girl began talking to him, seemingly engaging in small talk. It must have been one of those dreams, the kind where you're stuck in those weird and awkward situations. 'Shit' Maxswell thought, fearing that his chances with this girl were dropping rapidly. Even though this was a dream, and this girl meant nothing to him, he didn't want to stay silent in response to such a beauty.
Maxswell just spoke, the words flowing from his mouth.
"Actually I'm a cop…" He said in a surprisingly calm voice. Maxswell started to sweat, however, to his surprise, the girl responded naturally, her lips forming words, yet her voice was silent. Again the words began to flow from Maxswell's mouth.

"Bored? Nah, I find ways to entertain myself, drinking with pretty girls is one of them." He joked and she responded with a silent laugh. Her mouth started to move once again and Maxswell leaned against the counter, focusing on her lips, trying to pick up some context on what was going on.

"Sorry that's classified." He said with a wink. The words just appeared in his mouth, he didn't have to think about it. The girl silently responded with a smirk and Maxswell laughed aloud.

"We'll see after a few drinks." He grinned and the girl mutely laughed in response, just as their drinks were brought to their counter. 'What the hell is going on?' Maxswell thought as they drank and chatted. He felt the cold liquid beginning to smoulder in his stomach, finishing his first drink. He'd need a few in order to work up the courage for a marriage proposal. She silently chatted and flirted the night away with him, thus Maxswell responded with his own quips and flirts of his own. He was having fun, even more so with the alcohol tearing down his social barriers. Funnily enough the girl never spoke a word and Maxswell said whatever came into his head, it seemed to be working. To Maxswell, it felt like he was watching a one sided conversation, he just had to roll with it.

The night went on as she bought him round after round and Maxswell could feel himself slipping after each drink. Soon enough, the beauty tried prodding Maxswell once more. She mouthed her question once again as the bartender delivered the next round... a pair of Cerulean Sunrises. Maxswell laughed again, he knew he shouldn't answer, but aaaah fuck it, why hold out on this beauty?

"Blade Runner... you know what that is?"
The girl visibly stiffened and began to look uncomfortable. She gave a brief nod.
Maxswell, feeling terribly intoxicated blathered on.
"Yeeeah, not what you'd expect in an off world place like this right? But it's easy money! Everyone here is so terrified of the Skinjobs, they'll pay through the nose for you to take care of the problem."

Maxswell rose his hand, making a finger gun as he pointed it off somewhere in the bar.
"All I need to do is find what I'm looking for, take aim and..."
He flicked his hand back, mimicking the recoil of a gun.
"...bang."

The girl left some money on the counter before turning around and storming towards the bar's exit. Maxswell watched in cold shock before realising that the girl of his dreams was walking out on him. He rapidly palmed his forehead before fumbling with his wallet, slapping a fifty dollar bill on the counter. Maxswell now seeing the girl leave the bar, hurried after her, doing his best to keep his balance as he gave chase.

"Hey w-wait!" Maxswell called out as mocking glances were shot his way.

The Beauty slipped through the bar doors and Maxswell soon followed, his head spinning slightly as he looked around for the girl. He scanned the crowds before sighting her unmistakable figure. He bolted after her, she noticed him and tried to escape into the crowds once again. However the Blade Runner was too quick and caught her by the wrist.

"Hey c'mon, I was only kidding. If I'd known you'd storm out like that I wouldn't have opened my gob!" Maxswell exclaimed. The girl turned her head back around to scowl at him. Maxswell clenched his teeth thinking of what to say, like hell he was going to let her go that easy.

"Look, I think... I think you're really pretty... and I... I..." He didn't know what was wrong with him, he felt really on edge as the Alcohol stirred in his system. The girl tore her hand away, a forlorn look on her face. She silently muttered something that caused a sense of desperation to stir in Maxswell's gut. He lunged forward and grabbed the girl by her shoulders, spinning her around.
He gazed deep into her fearful blue eyes.
Then, as if moved by an invisible hand, he leaned into her and their lips met.

Maxswell's drunken mind went blank, as he focused solely on this moment, the girl was stunned at first... but it wasn't long before she kissed back. Her lips tracing the contours of his. Time stood still as she leaned into him and the two embraced long into the Venerian night.

Suddenly, he felt a violent shake of his shoulder as Maxswell was brought back to reality. He sat upright with a start, looking around the bar somewhat bewildered.

"Here's your drink... mate..." The jowled bartender mumbled begrudgingly as he spitefully smacked his misty blue drink down on the bar counter. Maxswell waved the bartender off as he stared at the blue foggy liquid in his glass. His mind swirling, like the murky blue drink contained within it's tall wine glass. What was that dream all about? Who was that girl? Why didn't she speak? These were the kind of questions that was suddenly plaguing Maxswell. Yet despite his endless questioning, he couldn't help shake the feeling that he didn't want to know the answers. Lazily he gripped the stem of his drink before propping himself on the bar counter, feeling somewhat melancholy as he stared into the drink.

'Probably just the Alcohol.' He thought to himself. Pursing his lips, Maxswell rose the glass to his mouth before tipping it back, allowing the murky liquid to pass through his gullet. The Cerulean Sunrise gave off a sharp creamy tang as he drank to the last drop. He placed the glass upon the counter, feeling the liquid stir in his stomach.

Suddenly, he felt a splitting headache rupture out of no where. Maxswell groaned as he leaned heavily on the counter, a hand shooting up to his forehead in a vain effort to stop the pain. Through gritted teeth sudden images flashed into his mind. A dark alley. A night sky. Gun in hand. A trail of blood. Maxswell slammed his eyes shut as it all came flooding back to him.

The Venerian twilight hung heavy over New Melbourne as Maxswell stepped into the alley, he'd managed to get a few shots off at the Andy, but it had evaded his fire to the extent to receive a leg wound... But that was more than enough. Large droplets of red clung to the otherwise spotless alley, forming a trail that disappeared down a side passage. A heavily weighted handgun gripped firmly in the palm of his hand, finger ready on the trigger. Police sirens wailed in the distance as Maxwell stalked the alley, his eyes focused on the trail. He was close... he could almost taste it.

Maxswell rounded the corner to see the trail of blood end where a collapsed beauty lay. She panted heavily, placing pressure on her bleeding gunshot wound. Maxswell hesitated for a fraction of a second, lowering his gun by his side, he walked steadily towards her. She shot her piercing blue eyes up at him, they swelled with fear and desperation.
"Maxswell..." she muttered in a fragile voice, on the brink of breaking down into tears. The Blade Runner said nothing as he took a few more steps before standing over her. Her now messy short black hair trembled as she glanced between the gun and his face.

Slowly The Blade Runner rose his handgun to level with her head, his eyes narrowing as he took a deep breath. He didn't need to rush... it wasn't as if it was going anywhere.

Her lower lip trembled as she gazed down the barrel of the gun.
She now locked eyes with Maxswell, tears rolling down her cheeks.
A sad heartbroken smile appeared on her lips.

"I love you." She whimpered.

Maxswell took steady aim and...

"...bang." He muttered, reopening his eyes, the crumpled Mood Organ receipt for 110-Montauk suppressants now in his hand.

"Ah... that's right..." Maxswell sighed, before ordering another round for himself.

Author's note:

Hi! hope you enjoyed this rather short story. It was just a little something I wrote to help me overcome a bit of writer's block.
It's all pretty much based on a dream I had once and decided it was a rather cool idea to make a story for.
Although, the setting of the story is more centered around "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep" rather than the movie.
But there's no category for that so not much I can do about that.
For those of you who follow my stuff, I'm officially back from my hiatus and ready to get back to writing.
Thank you for waiting so patiently and I'll have an update for Wolf and Cyberpunk ready within the next two weeks.
Thank you once again.
-RRR