Title: Play On Words

Rating: PG

Pairing: Bear/B.T.

Summary: Bear and B.T. indulge in a typically flirtatious and vague exchange, and find themselves headed toward unchartered territory. (Set after episode 26 of Hack Sign.) Assumes that Bear has gained guardianship of Tsukasa in the real world. Contains spoilers.

Author's Note: No, the characters of Hack Sign are not mine. If they were, I would get Tsukasa a much less annoying voice actor. However, this story does belong to me, and as such, I must ask that you do not copy or reproduce it in any way without my permission. I have taken the liberty of giving B.T. a name: Kimiko or Kimi for short (pronounced Kee-me-ko or Kee-me). Regarding Bear's profession outside of The World: though it is never declared in the television series, the creators have confirmed that he is, in fact, a novelist.

She glances up at him through sly, half-lidded green eyes; her casual position, currently one of nonchalance as she leans against a large tree, betrays nothing. "You're late."

He finds himself smiling in front of the terminal. How so very like her: no formal greeting, no courteous small talk. She isn't a giver or a nurturer, and when she gazes at him like that, through lowered eyelashes, it's usually because she wants something. Information, attention, and sometimes, he muses, even validation. B.T. is painfully simplistic, her motives transparent purely because she tries so hard not to be. Perhaps that is why he likes her so much. Most people would call her selfish, but he merely finds her refreshing. She isn't a stereotype, any one woman; she is everything and nothing all at the same time.

Bear eases himself down to the ground beside her. "Yes, I know. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

She chuckles lightly at his apology. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"And I'm certain it won't be the last." The warrior informs her amicably, lying back in the warm grass, letting the late afternoon sun wash over him. He knows that such sensation is merely the clever design of The World's programmers, and that it is only the software that makes such a pleasant scene spring to life. Still, there are times when he swears he can truly feel the wind on his back or the rocks beneath his boots.

B.T. sits beside him, a look of amusement crossing her face. "Long day?"

He takes in her features with a weary smile, enjoying the way her hair spills across her cheek as she looks down at him. "You might say that. And yours?"

The blonde allows herself to fall back into the swaying grasses at his side. "The worst," she says with a heavy sigh. "I definitely needed this."

Bear looks up at the vividly blue sky, watching the clouds pass overhead. "Is there anything you need to talk about?"

"You know better than to ask that." There is an audible smirk in her silky tone. "I like to leave my problems in the real world."

"Fair enough," he agrees, lapsing back into a quiet reverie. She had e-mailed him to meet her here; the reason behind her request will become clear in time.

She follows his gaze to the skyline. "How is Tsukasa?"

"I haven't seen him in a while," Bear admits, "although Mimiru seems to have, quite recently. From her e-mail, I assume that he's doing fine."

B.T. plucks a long stem, twirling it absent-mindedly between her fingers. "I meant the real Tsukasa. The girl."

"I thought you wanted to leave reality out of this." He flashes her a light, teasing smile.

She closes her eyes, lips pursed. "You're the one who enjoys bringing your real life into the game. I'm merely indulging you."

"And as I've said before, I appreciate it," he replies pleasantly, brushing off her apparent irritation. "The real Tsukasa is also doing well. I had dinner with her the other night. Her grades are steadily improving, and she seems to like her new school. I'm happy to say that she's a very bright young lady."

"So are you enjoying playing father again?" B.T. questions wryly, and the mocking emphasis is not lost on him. "Is this your long-awaited 'second chance'?"

Bear returns his focus to the treetops. "I'm not her father, and I know that I can't make up for lost time or past mistakes. But I would like to be there for her as a friend." He means what he says. What B.T. said before with regard to his real son is also true, he can't erase the past with good intentions. His young friend may not be a second chance, but she is a comforting future.

"And how does she feel about all of this?"

He contemplates his answer carefully. "I imagine it was all very awkward for her at first, considering her father's reluctance to give her up and his open hostility towards me. But she has a support system now: Subaru, Mimru, myself… we're all here for her."

She flicks the piece of grass away. "It sounds like your little team dynamic has carried over into real life."

"Yes, it has," he confirms, unashamed. "I never expected it to, but I'm surprised at how natural it feels."

B.T. sits up abruptly, her mood shifting. "It sounds way to complicated," she dismisses him flatly. "Don't we all have enough on our plates without having to worry about confusing the events in The World with reality?"

"What is reality," he ponders aloud in return, "if not something that is real and meaningful to you? Not everything has to be lucid or tangible to be legitimate. So can't it be said that we make our own reality?"

She exhales in exasperation. "Don't go getting all philosophical on me, Bear. You write fiction, not metaphysics."

He laughs at the jibe, relishing the familiar banter. "No argument there. The only philosophy course I took in college, I ended up dropping in favor of another writing seminar."

She is strangely quiet, an unusual circumstance for both of them.

Bear studies her closed body language for a moment. "This reluctance you feel, about bringing elements of the game into your life," he ventures gently. "Does it have to do with Krim?"

B.T. shoots him a withering glare. "Don't be ridiculous. Do you really think I'm still hanging onto that?"

He shrugs good-naturedly. "There's nothing wrong with caring for people outside of their gaming personas," he states simply, deciding to drop the subject.

"I see." Her glare melts into a thin smile as she regards him impishly. "Why, are you jealous, Bear?"

This turn in their conversation is not unexpected. When confronted with a serious matter, B.T. generally relies on the power of her feminine wiles, mocking his sincere concern. But as he looks on her now, he recognizes her for what she really is—someone who has been deeply hurt in life, hiding behind a perfunctory façade of indifference.

And so he answers her with complete honesty. "Would you like me to be?"

She is noticeably stunned, her sardonic mouth dropping in surprise. "Are…are you serious?"

"Are you?"

She gives him a look of annoyance, though it's half-hearted at best. "Do you intend to answer all of my questions with a question?"

Bear sits up, grinning boyishly at her. "I suppose that wouldn't do at all, now would it?"

"That's still a question," B.T. reminds him pointedly, rolling her eyes. She settles tentatively back down beside him. There is a pause of uncertainty as she stares out beyond the quiet grove. "When we met…you know, outside of The World," the words hesitantly leave her lips, "what did you think of me?"

"Honestly?"

"Of course."

He reflects for a moment before responding. "I thought you put entirely too much sweetener in your coffee."

"Bear," she speaks his name as a warning, and it's then that he realizes how serious she is.

"I knew it was you from the second you walked through that door," he remembers fondly, the image replaying through his mind. "Just by the way you carried yourself. Not deliberately or over-confidently as the character B.T. would, but with a softness and grace."

She is touched by his words, but manages a typically cunning reply. "There's that charm again. I'll bet you think it'll get you everywhere."

He turns to her, brown eyes solemn. "Is that what you really think?"

"Well, you're the writer, Casanova."

Bear gets to his feet suddenly and stretches. "I guess you're right," he fights to keep the regret from his voice. She is content to dance around the subject; anchored neither in one world or the other. He pities her distrust; it only makes her more vulnerable in the end. Bending to retrieve his sword, he heads toward the glade's edge.

"You're leaving?" She sounds disappointed as she stands to face him.

He assumes a disarming expression. "Well, your e-mail said that you wanted to meet, and now we have. So if you don't have anything on your mind, I'm going to log off and grab a bite to eat."

"Bear, I—" But her voice fails her. Forcing herself to recover, she merely lifts a hand. "Good night, then."

Reconsidering his decision, he approaches her, touching a hand to her shoulder. "What are you so afraid of?"

"It's just a game, Bear," B.T. declares angrily, sounding as if she means to convince herself of this. "The World must be kept separate from everyday life. Letting it cross over into reality is, well frankly, it's just stupid."

It may be just a game, he thinks to himself, but there are feelings at the heart of it. Remove all of the thrills of virtual reality, each pixel of their computer generated world, and there are still the people who breathe life into it. The millions of players, with their problems and anxieties, their humor and flaws, all reaching out to become part of each other's lives whether they accept it or not.

She adopts a somewhat contrite expression. "It's nothing personal. I just think it's best that our relationship remain within the game. No one gets hurt that way."

"If you say so," he assents gently. "I'll see you later."

"I remember what I thought of you when I first saw you offline," B.T. calls to him, as if in afterthought.

He glances at her from over his shoulder. "And?"

She smiles tenderly back at him. "I was surprised at how blue your eyes are. They make you look younger."

Bear returns the smile, raising a hand in farewell. "Well, that counts for something, I suppose."

"You bet it does."

Bear pauses in his step. "If you ever change your mind, know that I'm here for you. Both in The World and on the outside," he reassures her before resuming his warp.

B.T. watches as his image fades away, before turning back toward the setting sun. The World has become a source of uncertainty for her as of late. What was meant to be a fun and relaxing pastime, has sprung to life in a way she never imagined. Relationships here have become overly complex; she finds herself confusing them with those beyond her computer screen. Krim had come as a great shock to her, and she hadn't anticipated the pain that would come of their offline meeting and his rejection of her other self. B.T. has managed to move on with apathy, but the woman behind her still feels the sting.

She has always preferred that her real life remain organized, with everything and everyone in it divided into specific categories. Emotions outside of these classifications are too confusing, and are therefore avoided. Such is her relationship with Bear. She does not understand what she feels for him or why, and this frightens her. He cannot be placed into any category, and therein lies the danger. Like Krim, Bear is an element of unpredictability; she runs the risk of disappointment.

Her fifteenth year high school reunion has come and gone, without her attendance. She tells herself that it was just a lame way for old classmates to get together and brag about how great their lives are. It had nothing to do with the fact that there was no one to attend with her, she merely hates braggarts. And besides, she is happy with her life.

Sometimes.

B.T. reviews her e-mail, deciding to scan the message boards before logging off. She notices that Bear has not yet signed off either; he's at an item shop near one of the gates, probably stocking up on recovery potions or something. She hesitates, the woman behind the terminal fidgeting with the mouse. Opening the e-mail menu, her fingers dart across the keyboard almost of their own accord.

Hey Casanova,

I don't have any plans tonight. Still hungry?

-Kimi

She clicks the "send" button and her message is whisked off into cyber space. Her heart begins to beat faster, like a teenager with a crush, she notes with slight annoyance. The wait is awkward, knowing that he is reading her words, processing the sheepish request. Perhaps she ought not to have sent it.

A tone sounds, informing her that she has received a new message. She reads it eagerly, a smile lifting the corners of her mouth, rippling across her features. Logging off, she removes her visor and hunts for her purse.

She doesn't want to be late.

Fin