Are you ready?

The light field levitating the atom was blinking. At first, it startled her, even long after Rosalind and her counterpart figured out how to communicate through it (and formulating their own shorthand through Morse code), but now, it brought a strange sense of comfort. Rosalind preferred being alone, but she didn't realize how lonely she was until Robert started communicating with her. Finally, there was someone out there who could keep up with her mind-and enhance it, at that! No more dull conversations of courting idiot men, no pretending to not hear misogynistic comments about women, just two passionate people sharing their research, thoughts, and sometimes, feelings.

They could communicate these things better, of course, in person. It took ages, money from various strange places, and various sleepless nights to perfect it, but after some time, both she and Robert had formulated a Tear between worlds, a way to communicate.

Comstock wanted it for his prophecies.

Rosalind just wanted to talk to her favorite person.

At first, before the tear was stable, they would hand each other letters and notebooks, full of their respective research, general daily thoughts, and, of course, personal letters regarding their thoughts and feelings toward each other. They were tame, at first, akin to communicating with a long-lost sibling, until they discovered that their feelings were so much more.

I think , Robert once wrote to her, that if we were to know each other face-to-face, I'd be in love with you.

Rosalind normally burned their personal letters in her fireplace. She didn't want Comstock snooping through her belongings and finding anything like this. She was lucky he didn't understand science in any capacity, but knowing his track record, he did know about romance.

Rosalind tried to write a reply for a solid week, but could never find the right words. I'm already in love with you felt desperate, I know sounded cocky, and we should talk about it in person wouldn't likely happen anytime soon and would make Robert far too nervous. So she threw all those in the fire, too, and busied herself with making the Lutece Tear more stable, able to harness actual conversations.

If all their calculations were correct, they could keep the Tear stable for an entire twenty minutes, the longest they would have ever achieved. And Rosalind would be able to explain why she hadn't replied.

Yes , Rosalind replied after checking her calculations.

The device made its usual whirring sounds-it did this often, even when not powered on, but this was a bit louder than usual, telling her that Robert had begun powering up his device on the other side of the universe.

Starting , came his response.

Rosalind didn't respond through the atom, but instead, through action, powering up the device. With the sparks and scent of ozone that followed, Rosalind worried that she had done something wrong, so she checked over her calculations and all the controls in a panic, moving quickly enough that her hair was falling out of her updo. But she couldn't be bothered with appearances, not now.

She had to see him.

Rosalind was painfully aware that she was but a person, and not one without flaws, so she started redoing the calculations completely over again, thinking she had missed something and couldn't find her error. Sweat beaded on her forehead, causing the flyaway hair to stick as she wrote frantically, ink smearing on the paper.

"Are you alright?"

Rosalind jumped, dropping her pen.

It had worked after all; Robert stood in the threshold of the Tear, chewing on a stray hangnail as he watched her carefully.

Robert had to have been a foot taller than Rosalind, which she attributed to their differing chromosome, but if that was something that Robert found bothersome or odd, he never said. It was the first time someone hadn't mentioned Rosalind's height, as people normally commented immediately something to the effect of, "Wow, you're much shorter than I imagined!"

There were other subtle differences aside from their gender as well; his freckles were more numerous, he worried more, he was more talkative, and he chewed his hangnails instead of just toying with them. Additionally, his interests were more multifaceted, from what Rosalind could tell from his letters. He had all sorts of side hobbies along with his work manipulating the universe and often went to plays, painted, and knew how to juggle.

"Rosalind…" He held out his much-larger hand-not on the other side of the Tear, of course, but to give the illusion of helping the frazzled Rosalind up.

She stood. "Hello, brother."

It was something they decided to call each other for when he would inevitably cross over. Robert had made it very clear that all he would be leaving behind was a classroom of bored boys with wealthy parents, nothing of substance. He had already prepared a suicide letter, staging his death so as to not arise suspicion of his disappearance.

But even so, Rosalind, being an unmarried woman in a conservative society, would have to have a reason for Robert being in her home. Posing as husband and wife proved some difficulty, considering their appearances and the fact that Rosalind had vowed to not marry in the eyes of Columbia to deter the various men begging for her hand. Passing as twins would have to suffice, though it wasn't ideal.

"Hello, sister." He smiled back at her, appearing just as unsure as she felt.

There was a long pause as they just stared at each other. It was the longest amount of time they had ever been able to take each other in, despite the filter between Tears only being able to handle colors in monochrome.

Rosalind's mouth felt dry, as though she had forgotten to speak, but she stepped forward. She pondered just walking through the Tear and embracing him as she wanted to, but instead, she pressed her hand against the waves of light. It hummed against her skin, almost a burning sensation, but not unpleasant enough to pull away.

Robert hesitated. "Is it safe?"

"Probably not."

"And you're doing it anyway?"

"It must be tested. Besides, I want to touch you. Or at least get as close to it as I can."

Robert swallowed, then stepped closer, wincing at the sensation of the Tear as he pressed his palm against hers. It was warm, far warmer than the energy of the device itself, and a bit rough. His palm took up her entire hand, something she noted with awe. She wanted to interlace fingers, but had a fleeting thought of losing those fingers and decided against it. She couldn't build reality-breaking machines with no fingers, or at least, not with far greater effort than she had ever known.

"You never responded to my letter," he said, voice soft. "I'm assuming...you'd rather remain platonic?"

"No."

He quirked an eyebrow, a flush spreading to his cheeks. "No?"

"I mean...I wasn't sure how to respond, honestly. Over here, I need to be really careful. I can't give Comstock any reason to pull my funds."

"Your funds?"

"My money to build this machine isn't coming from doctorate study grants. This...preacher, who wanted his city in the heavens, is giving me everything for this, and I can't sacrifice it for a romance."

"But you've already sacrificed everything," Robert offered.

Rosalind snorted. "Hardly. I'd need something to care about on the surface world in order to sacrifice it, and I can't say I had that."

"I don't, either."

"I suppose we have that in common."

"Among other things."

"Mmm."

"If I may, Rosalind, if you could respond in any way you wanted to, what would you say?"

"Are you alone?"

"Of course. No one knows what this machine is."

Rosalind took a breath. "I love you, too."

Robert covered his mouth with his free hand and said nothing.

"I think...I've always loved you. At least, the idea of someone like you. I had dreams of meeting people who were and were not myself since I was a girl, and those dreams…" Rosalind dug her toes into the carpet. "Those dreams didn't stay so innocent as I matured."

"I had the same dreams," Robert admitted through his hand. "Though you weren't always a woman in mine. Sometimes, you were a man, or somewhere in between."

Rosalind smiled. "You weren't a man in mine. You're the first man I've ever loved and...probably will ever love."

"Have there been women in your past?"

Rosalind averted her eyes. "Only flings in the women's college. Nothing substantial, as they all went off and got married anyway. They didn't bother fighting to continue their education like I did." When Rosalind looked back up on him, she saw that those icy blue eyes of his weren't staring in judgement, but rather, admiration.

"I wish I had been so bold to try."

"There were no women in your past?"

"No. A man, once, but as you know, those sorts of things don't last. He broke my heart when he packed his suitcase and left for his wife. I didn't even know he was married." Robert shrugged with one shoulder. "Now, I'm living at the university full time and teaching pricks just like him. You're like a breath of fresh air in comparison."

"How so?"

"You're stubborn. Fearless. Do anything you can to get where you want. And I get the sense you actually read my notes and don't tune out my ramblings."

"Of course not."

"But in comparison...I don't think I have much to offer you. I didn't build a city in the clouds. I didn't become famous. All I am is a bachelor professor. Why would you be interested in something like that?"

"I want someone who can-and wants to-keep up with me. I want a person I can bounce thoughts off of and explore the universe with." Rosalind tried to lower her hand, but Robert mimicked her motions, following the path it traveled without separating their palms. Rosalind stepped closer, her lips only a breath away from the Tear itself. "And I want to make your world an interesting place."

"You already have, you madwoman."

Rosalind didn't expect Robert to step as close to the Tear as she was, but to her surprise, he met her lips through the wavelengths. It felt strange, distorted, and made her head spin, but Rosalind didn't think it was just because of the Tear.

She would've deepened the kiss, but a sharp pain to her skull told her to step back, and he did the same. When she opened her eyes, she saw him on the floor, clutching his bleeding nose and frantically pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. Rosalind tasted her own blood in her mouth and wiped it on her sleeve before rummaging for her own handkerchief in her purse.

"We probably should adjust the Tear a bit before doing that again," Robert admitted.

"Possibly, but we still have twelve minutes."

"Good." He sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I didn't want to say goodbye yet."

"Neither did I."

"I still want to touch you."

"We could touch ourselves."

Blood was still dripping out of Robert's nose, but he looked up, eyes narrowed. "Are you insinuating-"

"I am. And someday, when you can come through, we can...feel even more together."

Robert resumed pressure on his nose. "I don't want to disappoint you, but…"

"But what?"

"I don't have...the parts you assume I do."

"What do you mean?"

Robert sighed. "I don't have a penis."

"Good."

Robert quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'good?'"

"I mean that I wouldn't know what to do with one. But what do you have instead?" Rosalind's mind was racing. Did this other universe, this other Lutece, have a completely different set of genitalia?

"I have...what you have. We were born the same gender. Or, rather, assigned the same gender, if that's the cruel joke the universe plays."

"So you were born female."

"I was."

"So how did you end up...with the voice? And the height? How did you-"

"I didn't always. I made a friend as a child who was obsessed with genetics, hormones, all the things that make bodies what they were. She was...quite the disturbing girl, really, but we were the best of friends in the orphanage."

"Was that Felicity?"

Robert's eyes brightened. "It just occurred to me that you probably knew her, too."

"Yes. Quite the odd little thing. We caused many explosions together before she moved away."

Robert laughed. "Did you have a crush on her, too?"

"Of course I did. Did you?"

"Yes. And she did a lot for me. She knew I wanted to study at a real university, not the women's college imitation, so she did what she could to masculinize me so I could disguise myself as a man."

"But you could've gone to a women's college together."

"You know she didn't want to. She wanted a husband she could murder for his fortune."

"Oh, yes, I remember that. I wonder if she succeeded."

"I'd imagine. She was a genius with chemicals. She probably drugged him to sleep as she pictured she would."

"Slowly poisoning him to death like the legends of Tamamo no Mae of Japan."

"Precisely."

"So what did she do to you? She didn't offer anything to me like that."

"I'm assuming you were content in your gender."

Rosalind shrugged. "More or less. I wanted to use my gender to prove a point, not alter it."

"I wanted to change it and blend in with society."

"Ah. There's our variable. So how did she do this?"

"She found a way to inject testosterone in me weekly. At first, nothing really changed, and I assumed my increase in fantasies about her and other people were a simple placebo effect, but then I lost my period. I grew more hair. I got a bit taller. My voice started cracking." He chewed his hangnail again. "Long after she left to marry a wealthy old man, I continued making the formula she injected into me, just to keep everything even. No one at the university ever knew my secret except my one lover."

"So what gender do you identify with now?"

Robert shrugged. "It's easiest to refer to me as a man, and I'm content with the idea. But, as strange as it sounds, I feel like neither, a being beyond gender."

"I can understand that."

"I prefer presenting more masculinely, I suppose. I always hated corsets."

"I love them. I love fashion in general, honestly. It's a guilty pleasure."

"Well, you look lovely."

Rosalind flushed but said nothing.

"I prefer being fashionable, too, just not in the same way."

"Another variable?"

"Perhaps."

"So how did you make the testosterone?"

Robert thought for a moment. "It was taken from the testes of dogs, at first, then other animals with higher testosterone contents. Eventually, she started learning chemistry in private and got her wealthy husband to make her a lab, and she made an artificial version of testosterone. She still mails them to me."

"But what will happen if you stop taking it?"

"I shouldn't physically change much, but, since I have access to other labs on campus, I've managed to emulate her creation."

"Have you told anyone about it?"

"No. It's our secret. If I did, then people would think I'm not really a man, as irrelevant as it is, and would likely rescind my PhD. I'm sure you'd be okay with me still making it when I cross over?"

"Why would I have a problem with that?"

"You're not disgusted by me?"

"Of course not!"

"You still want to, um…"

"Watch you touch yourself? Of course." She discarded her handkerchief and stepped closer. "I'm...rather attracted to you, and I think I would be regardless of your gender. I think you're the only person I could say that about." Rosalind wrinkled her nose. "Men are normally repulsive, but you're not."

"So you still think of me as a man?"

"If you would like me to, but primarily, I think of you as my better half." Rosalind began unbuttoning her blouse and folding it before setting it aside. "May I see you?"

Hands shaking, Robert copied her movements. "I'd...like to keep the top on, if that's alright with you."

"I want you to be comfortable. How does the undershirt work? I'm assuming it binds you down."

"I don't have a lot of breast tissue anymore. Not like you, anyway."

His eyes wandered for a second, and Rosalind played it up, slowly shedding her petticoat and leaning forward as she stood in her corset.

"Um!" Robert cleared his throat. "What I meant was! I lost a lot of it as I injected myself with contradicting hormones. But what's left, I bind down, yes. It's really an undershirt with reinforced lining, sort of like your corset, but higher up and not as painful or cinched."

"Interesting. Did you sew it yourself?"

"Of course."

"Quite the charming inventor. I'd love to see it in person someday."

"In time." Robert dropped his pants. "I'm...nervous, honestly. Is it odd to be nervous around oneself?"

"If I dated a prick like your ex-boyfriend, I would be nervous, too."

"Are you not?"

"I can't be nervous around you." Rosalind hadn't planned for showing herself off, but she was luckily in her most practical corset that unhooked from the side-a personal add-on-so she didn't need help unlacing. Once that was carefully set on a chair with her drawers and chemise, she stood naked before her double.

"I...probably touch myself a bit differently than you," Robert admitted. "What do you like?"

Rosalind sat, blushing at the lewdness of the situation before spreading her legs. "I like...internal things."

"I would have with the right person, but not alone." Robert slid across from her and revealed himself to her.

Rosalind's breath caught. The curls framed an entrance similar to her own, as far as Rosalind knew, but the internal lips were longer, the clitoris protruding as though it were…

"Mine isn't anywhere near as long."

"Mine didn't used to be. It's another part of me the hormones affected, which means I can do this." At first, Robert ran his fingers over the slit (which Rosalind had to distinctively not think about sinking her fingers into for her own safety), getting them soaked before rolling them over the head of the clit. With a few quivers and a ragged moan, Robert took a finger to either side of the clitoris and stroked.

"Intriguing," Rosalind admitted. She hadn't realized what her fingers were already doing, feeling herself pulse at the idea of him coming through the Tear and ravaging her, possibly with his tongue, or fingers, or an artificial phallus. She couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips as her fingers slid inside.

"We don't...have long," Robert mentioned, lifting his eyes to look at the clock Rosalind assumed was adjacent to his side of the Lutece Device.

"Long enough, I'm sure," Rosalind panted. The entire sight of Robert, flushed and stroking faster, made her pick up her own pace. She wondered what it was like to touch him, if he felt like she did, or if there were even more differences she had yet to place.

Rosalind never took long to make herself come. It was more of a maintenance thing, in her eyes; she was hardly the most romantic person she could think of, but she was a woman with needs and, especially lately, fantasies. She had found the most efficient ways to make herself lose control, but with Robert around, she wanted to make it last.

However, that didn't mean she could.

Two minutes.

Rosalind covered her mouth, holding back a scream; she was alone in her home, but she didn't want to raise suspicion among the neighbors. Robert appeared to be struggling, too, wiggling his hips in rhythm to his motions before tilting his head back.

"I want to hear you," Robert managed, voice cracking. "I always figured you were loud."

"You...thought about it?" Rosalind asked, slowing down a little.

"Of course I have."

Slowly, Rosalind dropped her hand.

"Faster, Rosalind. I want to see what you like."

With a moan she couldn't swallow, Rosalind obliged, adding a third finger and curling against the spot that always made her come unglued.

One minute.

"Rosalind, I…" Robert's image was beginning to shatter as the Tear lost its stability. He bit the inside of his free hand as he fell back, laying to the side as he pleased himself. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I love you so goddamn much ."

Tears spilled from Rosalind's eyes, but she didn't know why. She wasn't sad, even though Robert was disappearing. Her whole vision was shattering, honestly, but she didn't want to let her eyes close as they usually did when she came. She didn't want to lose him, not yet.

He kept repeating her name, his love for her, and his promises to please her in person, and it was enough for Rosalind. She let go, falling backwards, writhing on the carpet that she was sure her orgasm would stain.

The Tear disconnected. All Rosalind could hear now were the echoes of her own sighs and screams, the longest orgasm she has had on record. All she could think of were those hands on hers, him sliding into her, kissing her lips (without the bloody noses), and she sobbed.

It took a long time to collect herself as she lay nude on the carpet, walls involuntarily clenching on her fingers as her vision swam with dizziness and tears. Her lungs spasmed as she tried to replace the oxygen she lost with her screams, and eventually, she just went limp.

But not for long. She felt as though their conversation was cut off short. She scrambled to her feet, legs quivering, juices dripping down her thighs, and she made her way to the desk where her atom was kept.

I love you.

The response came back immediately. I love you.