Rhys enters the van, sliding the door behind him and attemting not to wake anyone. He's so tired, and he regrets plugging that Nakayama ID deeply. He leans against the closed door, while his eyes are adapting to the darkness and his breathing slows down, labored after his long walk on the sand.

Tomorrow is going to be trouble, he knows it for sure, but he has so little strength left in him, he can't even fight the indifference.

He walks further in, stumbling on the corners when he notices a feeble light, that is blocked from his view by a human form. Without much thought he approaches, even knowing it would be best for him to lie down unnoticed. He doesn't realize it, but he craves for human company, for sanity, after all that mind blowing AI madness.

Rhys comes nearer and sees Fiona drinking from the tap, the lights over the kitchen sink become visible when she reaches down to sip water from her palms.

She is not wearing her hat, nor the jacket, nor the shoes. She looks so small and so humanely *normal*, that Rhys smiles almost involuntarily. Perhaps, there are things in his life he is grateful for.

"Hey," he whispers fondly, "you're up?"

Fiona turns at him, and her eyes glitter with reflected light, and, maybe, amusement? Rhys follows the movement of her head, as she looks up at him, cocking her head to the side. Then she giggles, causing his eyebrows to raise. She's more drunk than he thought.

"Wro-o-ong question." Fiona sings in a low voice, walking towards him, her legs somewhat unsteady. "The right one is - what am I up to?" She continues her pace, while Rhys backs his way straight into the van's wall. He must admit this is unexpected and unsettling. But...he's suddenly very eager to know the answer to her question. He is all strained to hear her whispering.

"And - are you up to it?" Fiona crushes herself into him, her breath hot on his chin. With a mysterious smile on her lips, she grabs him by the neck and pulls him down for a kiss. It is a passionate, rough kissing, as she sucks on his lower lip, her arms tugging him down forcefully in an uncomfortable hunch.

Rhys' mind goes completely blank for some seconds. He feels intoxicated by both her nearness and the alcohol, still heavy on her breath. She's so desperate, so greedy, so merciless, kissing and biting his neck, that his limbs are numb with both shock and rapidly growing desire. Then, he feels her fervor dissipate little by little, and he meets her eyes, as she looks up again, breaking the kiss, leaving him breathless. Her eyes are big, as if frightened by her own actions, as if the earth has broken open under her feet.

It is one of the rarest moments of his life, when Rhys acts with an impeccable prowess. He urges her back into the embrace, gently putting his arms on her waist. No one speaks. No one breaks eye contact. The lights dim behind Fiona's back as they are equipped with motion sensing. With his heart pounding with the loudness of a moonshot, Rhys makes his best decision ever - he resumes their kiss.

He's in the lead now. He's classy, slow, and tasteful, though his back begins to ache. After, he leaves Fiona to slump onto his body, as she smiles, content, hugging him firmly, her hands on his shoulders.

Some moments pass in silence and almost complete darkness, when Fiona laughs again, grinding herself into him.

"Now, who of us is up?" She mutters buring her face in his chest, the slur still noticeable in her voice.

Rhys can't help grinning back. She's not too wrong with her insinuation, but... Two can play this game.

Without any gallant notification, Rhys slides his hands down to grab her behind and lifts her up to match their eye levels. Fiona lets out a surprised yelp, as she clutches his shoulders, her legs circling around his waist.

"You." Rhys replies with a victorious smirk. Her expression of mixed awe and shock, all due to the intensified pressure in the nether regions, is just too enjoyable. He may be imagining it, because it is really dark, but her sharp breathing proves him right.

He leans forward and their noses touch. Rhys plants a quick kiss on her parted lips, then another one, and soon they're kissing again. It so much better when he doesn't have to double over to reach her.

Fiona arches her back, and he have to step forward to keep the balance. Another bright idea crosses his mind and he strolls forward to put her on the countertop, freeing his hands to roam over her back.

Fiona is all flushed, but still very practical, as her hands are undoing his shirt. She is too needy to finish the buttons, leaving some in the bottom unattended, pressing her palms to his bare chest.

Rhys brings her even closer with his right arm around her waist, while he runs his warm left hand from her collarbone down to her abdomen. His breath is caught in his throat, as he stops for a moment on her soft belly, asking her a silent question with a intense glance, before sliding his palm further down to rest it against her parted thighs. Fiona mutters something unintelligible, and slides her hands up to grab his shoulders under his shirt.

"Tsk, tsk. So much fun and you didn't call me? I'm wounded." A too damned recognizable voice cuts the silence behind Rhys' back. No, please, not now, he pleads internally.

Rhys doesn't even notice Fiona's confused look, as he stands unmoved for quite a while. She is breathing heavily, but his sudden stop worries her even through her clouded conscience.

"Just what a kind of a pal are you, Rhysie?" Jack sits next to Fiona, looking at the Hyperion man reproachingly. "Your good ol' buddy Jack could give your a hand in this." He smirks at Rhys' horror openly written on his face. Still, in the current state of mind, all worked up and unbound, Rhys finds it in him to anger.

"Just get out of it, will you!" Rhys cries, his hands curling into fists at his sides, as he takes them off the girl before him, his exasperated rage making him nearly forget about her. Not only about her, but also about other people in the van, who are thankfully still asleep.

"Wha-what?" Fiona lets out, her voice barely audible. She can't follow him, her thinking is not functioning any more. "Out of it...you mean, out of my clothes?" She suggests in a shaky voice, but her willingness is evident, being the effect of his expressive outburst on her. She mistakes his annoyance for the needy impatience, and it flatters her.

Rhys finally realizes he has yelled out loud, and the beads of sweat appear on his forehead, soaking his eyebrows. He is on the brink of ruining it all, he is so damned sure about it, and the fear is sucking out all his newly found confidence.

"Ugh...th-that...yeah, I mean that..." He only manages to say. He is not quite able to recall what she has just said. Maybe it is for best, because suggestions like that would have probably made him faint.

Fiona nods curtly, glad to get the logical explanation. She's eager to indulge him, almost tearing off her blouse, and the underwear beneath it. She means it, no mockery or challenge left in her expression. She makes it crystal clear she wants it, all the games thrown aside.

Rhys might as well faint, after all. His eyebrows almost meet his hairline, and he grasps the countertop edge for support with his left hand.

Jack, who seems to be speechless at such turn of events, moves to stand at Rhys' side. "You'd never get that view without me." He whispers, and Rhys' eyes widen even more, as he hears admiration in Jack's voice. "Let me do it, kiddo."

Without much effort, Jack takes the control of Rhys' cybernetic arm. Rhys is in no state to fight him.

Robotic fingers reach Fiona's ribs, featherlight at first, but then the pressure increases. Rhys, or Jack, begins with gentle up and down movements, the goosebumps pricking on her skin, as the touch is cold. Fiona is completely taken by the sensations, she closes her eyes, she doesn't care about anything else anymore. Rhys can't take his eyes off her, and he even almost forgets about the AI installed in his head.

Jack knows what he's doing. He cups her breast, gently, then greedy, then gently again. The sounds coming out of Fiona's open mouth are driving him and Rhys equally mad.

With a knowing grin, invisible to anyone, Jack makes Rhys' hand slide down, past the waistband of her pants, inside, and cool metal fingers meet her inflamed flesh. Fiona gasps, unprepared, edgy, striken. Her eyes fly open. "Don't you dare stop." She growls menacingly, her nails diggingg into Rhys' shoulders.

Despite her words, Jack does indeed stop his movements. "Won't it be fun, if I leave you now, a hand in her pants, with absolutely no clue what to do with it?" He laughs merrily. Rhys only swallows, his throat too dry to speak at this thought. But Jack continues: "Nah. This is much more fun, than making you look like a fool. That is a routine, and this... I haven't done this in ages."

And exactly at the moment when Fiona narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to declare her indignation, Jack starts to rub Rhys' fingers on her sensitive skin. The cybernetics allow him the unbelievable precision, his deft hand of an experienced hacker bringing down her firewalls, hacking inside her core, and running the hidden system files never executed before.

Rhys buries his face in her neck where it meets her shoulder. It gives him sturdier support as he can't trust his legs anymore, and also muffles his own groans. Fiona runs her hands up his neck, tugging at his dampened hair, and nuzzles her face into it.

This is an endless, sweet torture, their minds going completely offline, and the sensation of flesh on flesh, sweat on sweat is the only thing that reminds them they are still living.

"Rhys, look at me..." Fiona almost sobs against his ear. And he does. Wild eyes with widened pupils, reddened cheeks, dry lips...he has never seen more beautiful woman.

"Rh-" she wants to repeat his name as she shudders with pleasure under his touch, but he swallows it covering her mouth with his. He continues to kiss her, with more and more tenderness as she relaxes, resting her head against a cupboard. Her hands slide down to slump at her sides, and Jack make Rhys also retract his cybernetic arm. He has the dignity to stay silent.

Fiona looks almost lifeless.

"A-are you okay?" Rhys cups her cheek with his left hand. His right one is messy.

She lifts her eyelids and lets out a happy sigh. "Nuh-uh. I'm high." She smiles. She stretches her arms and tears a piece of paper towel hanging under the cupboard. "Here," she hands it to him.

Rhys smiles back, a bit shyly, as he takes the towel to wipe his hand. Meanwhile, Fiona slides down to stand on the floor, and dress herself lazily.

"Um, Rhys?" She calls, and he meets his eyes again. "I owe you one." She winks at him, and walks away into the darkness of the van.

He stands there for a while, then follows her.

Jack walks out of the van. He has little time before sleep claims Rhys' mind. He leans on the wall, looking into the sky full of stars.

"I'm going to miss these times." He sighs. "I'm going to miss you, Rhysie."