Chapter Thirty

Disclaimer: I am aware that previously I spelled Anahi's name Anahy in this book, but in Book 1, I spelled it Anahi, and I like that spelling better, lol. I plan to go back and fix it.

TW: NSFW ahead! Some fluff, talk about sex, Wren is thirsty (Connor is, too, but she's bolder), light smut (I'm trying to practice), mild angst (but like, in a fluffy way, if that makes sense? I guess it's more like whump lol)

For the next few days, Wren spent a lot of time at Jericho. She still needed to pass her evaluations, and the HAD were busy with their serial killer case, which left her alone at her house. Ever since finding Otto's body in the bathtub, Wren wasn't a fan of being home alone. She hadn't voiced this dislike—it would only worry Connor, and goodness knew that she'd put him through enough stress lately—so she just took a train and walked to Jericho. Usually, North put her to work organizing paperwork or helping her multitask. North's job contained a lot of multitasking.

How Markus, North, and Josh managed all the stuff they did, Wren had no idea.

Today was a quieter day, leaving Wren and North to work in comfortable silence. The news played in the background, though North left it on mute, preferring to play music. North's music taste was just as scattered as Wren's—one minute bubblegum pop beeped through the speakers playfully, and the next a rock song scraped with metal claws at the hollow parts in Wren's chest. It was the kind of music that they could dance or scream their hearts out to, and Wren liked that they shared a love of dance and broken pasts.

Part of Wren relished the silence. It settled over her like a soft blanket. Prometheus had offered her plenty of silence, but that had been the kind that thrummed against her eardrums, the kind that made her heartbeat feel like ear-splitting thunder. This silence felt like fresh snowfall, quiet and peaceful and beautiful. It whispered through her with a promise of rest.

So, when Josh burst into the room, Wren and North flinched like mirror images. Without greeting them, Josh strode toward the desk and swept up the remote and unmuted the TV.

Twisting, Wren's heart sank at the headline: FBI TO HELP DPD INVESTIGATE MURDERS. The HAD certainly wasn't happy to hear this, and a cold tingle spread from Wren's chest to the places where her skin and cybernetics met. It sent a weird jolt through the circuits of her arms, and she suppressed a shudder. She checked her phone to make sure Connor hadn't texted her, but her lockscreen remained blank, save for the picture of Connor smiling softly as she grinned, her arm over his shoulders. He had ducked down to match her height and looked up at the camera with puppy-dog eyes, his signature half-smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. It was one of the few pictures they had together. Hopefully, they'd take more.

Of course, peace did not seem to be in the cards for them.

It was another murder, though this one seemed far less staged compared to the others. An android strangled her partner in broad daylight in a public place, before killing herself. It would seem random and unhinged to the average person watching the news, but to Wren—and the HAD—it sent a message. The murder-suicide occurred on the steps of City Hall: This was a political message.

"With police turning up little to no evidence of whoever is involved, this begs the question if perhaps this is simply a malfunction in deviants' programming. We've already witnessed androids breaking their programming before. Perhaps this is the next step of deviancy—to destroy all humanity." The news anchor pursed his lips grimly.

"Oh, fuck you," North groaned as Josh lowered the volume. "I hate that guy. He never has anything good to report about us."

"This isn't good," Josh agreed, sitting heavily in Wren's empty chair. She'd opted for the floor to have more space as she organized things for North. "This will definitely make people rethink the new bill."

Wren's throat locked as her team flickered on screen. The volume on the TV was too low for her to make out what the news anchor said, but she had a feeling it wasn't anything positive about the HAD. She should be there with them, taking the heat. Part of the reason they failed to make any headway on this case was because they busied themselves with her and Prometheus. The least she could do was take the next steps to rejoin the team.

"And we're still not allowed to elect our own representatives, so this will probably set us back with any politicians who might've wanted to support us," North muttered.

"From what Markus told me, Senator Zachary is still adamantly on our side," said Josh.

"Where is Markus, anyway?" Wren croaked. If Josh or North noticed the catch in her voice, neither of them pointed it out.

"D.C.," replied Josh. "Trying to put out some of these fires."

Wren pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them. "I feel like we were coming at this all wrong. It's too… political for it to be a deranged killer. And we narrowed it down to a group who framed Typhon… I guess it could be another chapter of Typhon that we didn't consider."

"But?" North prompted.

"I have a gut feeling that it isn't Typhon involved. They're too scattered right now. Sure, they're using the publicity to fuel their own agenda, but I don't think they're strictly behind it."

"Well, whoever they are," huffed Josh, "they're making our jobs a lot harder."

At the end of the day, the door to Wren's bedroom opened and Connor entered. He shut the door gently and leaned against it, his head tilted back. Wren took off her headphones and sat up, worry creasing her brow. It wasn't often that bad days at work hit Connor, but when they did, they always managed to hit hard.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Connor's eyes slid shut. "The FBI sent someone to consult on the case with us."

"I saw the news…"

"It was Perkins."

Wren frowned. Connor told her about Perkins once—how he was, in Connor's words, "quite rude and difficult to work with," and in Hank's words, "a downright fuckin' prick"—but this seemed a bit below his paygrade. "The FBI must think this is much bigger than we thought it was."

"Or that we can't handle it," Connor sighed, pushing off the door and sinking down onto the bed. A soft smile curved his mouth as he played with Wren's fingers. "How was your day?"

"Pretty quiet," Wren answered quickly, "but are you okay?"

Connor lifted his eyes to meet Wren's. "I'm okay. Just… frustrated with the developments in the case."

Her heart gave a tight clench, and Wren reached out to brush her fingers through Connor's hair. His eyes fluttered shut at her touch, and he leaned into her palm. "Anything I can do?"

"This… helps." Connor's voice hummed into Wren's synthskin. They sat like that for a moment, neither of them needing to fill the silence with words or noise. Then, Connor raised his head. "May I scan you?"

Rolling her eyes, Wren pulled her hand away. "You know, if you want to see through my shirt, then you don't have to pretend to scan my ribs."

Connor's eyes widened a fraction. "I'm not—That's not what I—"

Wren giggled and leaned back against her pillows. "You're cute when you're flustered."

An exasperated smile pulled at the corners of Connor's mouth, and his eyes glazed over for a moment as he scanned Wren's body, checking to make sure her ribs were healing properly. "Maybe you should do it more often, then."

"Do what?"

Connor moved closer until he leaned over her; his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of Wren's head. Their noses brushed. "Fluster me."

Okay, now it was her turn to splutter. "What the—Where did this cocky bastard come from? You ass."

Wren turned her face away, hot blood rushing to her cheeks. Connor kissed her cheek and withdrew with a smug look, and the absence of him washed cool air over Wren's skin.

"People often mistake me for naïve, which I suppose is a fair assumption. I'm still learning, though I wasn't born yesterday."

"No, you're a whopping three years old now," Wren snorted and turned her head toward him. "Do you want to…?"

"Want what?"

Sometimes, it was difficult to tell if Connor was messing with her or not. Sometimes, he was genuinely confused about human colloquialisms and behavior, and sometimes, he whipped out that confident, sassy little shit like he did just a few seconds ago. But now, he just seemed sincere with his confusion.

Wren pursed her lips. She could flirt. She used to be a stripper, and she used to be seductive for Prometheus, and she'd had to flirt for cases… It never affected her when someone else was her target. But flirting with Connor always flustered her before she even managed to say anything too risqué. Still… Flustering Connor was rather cute. And him trying to fluster her was really—

Wren cleared her throat. "Would you like to take your frustration out on… me?"

Connor propped himself up on his elbow to peer at her. Wren trained her eyes on the ceiling, her cheeks prickling with heat. "Do you mean… hurt you?"

"No," Wren laughed and covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, good," said Connor, relaxing. "I would never be into that."

"Into what?"

"Tina and Gavin discussed rough sex today. It actually pertained to the case a little, but they got off topic and started talking about extreme situations in which people enjoy being physically hurt during sex. They had to explain why humans would be into that. I suppose their reasonings made sense, especially when they explained BDSM more, but… I don't think I quite understand the appeal of hurting your significant other."

"Well, every couple is different as long as its consensual," said Wren, ignoring the fact that Connor just so nonchalantly brought up BDSM. "I'm no expert on that stuff, but… I dunno. Some of it could be… fun."

"Like what?"

Wren swallowed and forced herself to meet Connor's gaze. He squished his brows together in askance, and his tie dangled from his neck. Wrapping her fingers around it, Wren pulled him a little closer to her. "Like… there are more uses for your tie."

"Like what?" Connor asked again, though this time, his voice sounded strained.

"Well, you can blindfold someone, or… restrain someone…"

"I…" Connor cleared his throat. "I don't think my tie would be very effective in restraining someone."

"Maybe not," Wren allowed. Perhaps it was better to just show him. Tugging on his tie, she guided Connor's lips to hers, brushing their lips together gently. He treated her like she was fragile lately, as if he feared she might crumble in his hands or vanish. Wren didn't blame him—the last time they "defeated" Prometheus, she ended up crushing his mechanical heart by returning to them—so it only made sense that Connor acted as though he might lose her. And, he was probably acutely aware that she was still recovering from her injuries. But she wanted Connor to know he was safe with her, that she wouldn't leave him ever again, as much as she could help it. They'd had to tiptoe around each other for so long, and when they didn't, she'd suffered for it. It had been worth it, and she would risk her life a million times over just to hold Connor for a few seconds.

But now that she was officially free of Prometheus, and their listening ears and threats, Wren no longer wanted to be careful.

Parting her lips, Wren deepened the kiss. Her head spun as Connor responded enthusiastically, his hands coming to cup her neck as he cradled her closer to his body. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, and sucked gently. Connor let out a soft noise that sounded like a mix between a sigh and a whimper. A shiver danced down Wren's spine. Connor rolled his hips into Wren's, and she arched her back in response, warmth pooling between her legs.

The last time they'd had sex was in the shower before their mission to take down Prometheus. Then, it'd been desperate—they hadn't been sure if they'd make it out alive—but now? Now, Wren was free. They were both free to explore, to be a little more playful.

Connor broke off their kiss—he paid more attention to Wren's need to breathe than she did—but kept his mouth close enough to hers that his soft lips tickled hers when he spoke. "Is… Is this what you meant by taking my frustration out on you?"

Weaving her arms around Connor's neck, Wren hummed an affirmation. They resumed their kiss, mouths moving with each other. Connor's body shifted closer to Wren as he positioned himself on top of her.

His weight crushed against Wren's still-healing and bruised ribs. An offensive squeak of pain escaped her lips, and Connor halted before withdrawing abruptly. He sat upright, peering at Wren with a frantic LED, lips parted in mild horror. "I'm sorry, I got carried away. We should stop."

Wren pouted. "No…"

"Wren, you're still healing. I don't want to hurt you."

As much as Wren wanted to, she had to agree. Her ribs now throbbed which made breathing a little sharper at the moment. Folding her arms, she sighed and feigned frustration. Stupid broken ribs. Traitors. "Fine."

Connor was so beautiful with his hair slightly mussed and his tie hanging loose around his neck that it hurt. Concern curved his brow. "It's not that I don't want you."

His voice sounded a bit ragged and pained, which elicited a coy grin from Wren. Dragging her teeth across her lip, she queried, "You do?"

Connor gave her an exasperated look. "You're making this very difficult."

Reaching for his tie again, Wren snaked her fingers around it and pulled Connor to her. With a slow, teasing kiss, Wren smiled against Connor's mouth. "Good."

Connor groaned and pulled away, crashing beside her against her pillows. "You're impossible."

"You love me for it, though."

"I love you for a lot of reasons," Connor replied. After a moment, he added, "But yes. That is one of them."

Wren turned over, wincing as the pain in her ribs caused her breath to hitch. Damn. Every time she thought they felt better… Curling into Connor's body, Wren let out a sigh and closed her eyes. They had time to explore.

Connor faced her, and draped one arm over her while the other stretched under her head. Reaching toward him, Wren traced a pattern from his LED, to his cheekbone, down to the outline of his lips. His eyelids drooped, but he seemed determined to gaze at her. "I love you for a lot of reasons too, by the way."

Connor's eyes stretched open, as if her statement awakened him. Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, Connor snuggled closer. "You can tell me about them later."

Wren hummed a soft chuckle into his chest. His thirium pump beat like a human heart, though it felt a bit more powerful, like the steady thrum of an engine. "You're feeling more confident today."

"I suppose… Taking down Prometheus and freeing you feels like a win, despite what's going on in the world right now."

Wren pressed her face into Connor's chest until the buttons of his shirt left imprints in her skin. She was so tired of fighting, but she'd keep going for Connor. None of it was over yet. They still had a serial killer to catch—or, serial killers—and bigots who wanted to keep them apart. But at least in this fight, they weren't as alone.

For now, they were allowed to feel a little more confident and relish that they'd won.

Although everyone received an invitation to James and Anahi's wedding, only Tina and Chloe were able to attend along with Connor and Wren. Hank needed to stay behind with the rest of the HAD, and the Jericho crew—although disappointed because none of them had ever attended a wedding and wanted to experience it—were too busy with some of the political unrest.

The four of them took a plane to Ellsworth, Maine, now that Wren was free to travel without triggering any alarm systems. Chloe was rather amusing at the airport, positively fascinated with the hustle and bustle. Even Connor appeared intrigued and excited as he took in the airplanes. His eyes scanned all of the people hurrying to their flights early in the morning while they rode a conveyor belt toward Gate E.

Wren slipped her hand into Connor's. He turned his head toward her, his eyes alight with wonder. "We should travel more."

"Just to go to the airport?" Wren teased.

Connor shook his head. "No, I want to see the world with you."

A happy blush warmed Wren's cheeks. "It's a date."

"No, that would be a vacation," Connor corrected her. "A date would be going to the movies with me next weekend."

"Are you asking me?"

"I am."

"Smooth," Wren praised. "You don't have to ask me out every time, you know? We're dating, which means going out together are automatically dates."

"Dating," Connor mused, a soft frown creasing his forehead.

"Speaking of dating," said Tina, butting in, "the four of us need to go on a double date sometime."

"Yeah!"

Chloe beamed. "We should invite Markus and North, too. They would enjoy that."

"And we all know they're not getting out much," said Tina, shaking her head.

"You all still haven't caught me up on what I missed while I was gone," Wren pointed out. North and Markus seemed to solidify things at the Liberation anniversary gala last year, but they seemed much closer ever since. Chloe and Tina lived together, too. These were minor things that had changed while Wren had been away at Prometheus, but they were still things she wanted to hear.

"You really didn't miss much when you were gone," Tina assured her as they trekked to their gate, their carry-ons rolling behind them.

"It was probably way more interesting than what I was doing at Prometheus," muttered Wren.

As Wren strode with Connor, their fingers intertwined, a few people cast stares in their direction. Connor's LED sputtered, but remained blue. Wren squeezed his hand, silently telling him to not let go. Connor returned the squeeze, his silent promise that he wouldn't.

After boarding the plane, Wren let Connor have the window seat. Tina and Chloe sat across the aisle, and the two of them seemed too busy with each other to care that their group got divided. Connor slid the window shut, as the plane was still grounded and the sun had yet to rise. Wren traced small swirling patterns on the back of Connor's hand with her free one.

"Are you alright?" Connor's question stalled Wren's movements.

"Yeah, why?"

"You seem preoccupied."

"Am I bothering you?" Wren gestured to her pattern-tracing on his hand.

Connor shook his head. "No."

Narrowing her eyes, Wren lifted her gaze to Connor's. The almost imperceptible press of his lips gave away his anxiety. "Are you okay?"

"I'm not ready to talk about it," Connor admitted.

Wren frowned. "Just let me know when you're ready."

"Maybe when we get there."

Wren leaned her head against him. Hopefully, it wasn't the looks cast their way that bothered him. They'd already promised one another that they'd fight for each other, no matter what. Surely, a few semi-judgmental and mostly curious glances were enough to make Connor doubt their relationship?

But what if…?

No. No, Wren needed to relax. She needed to stop being ready to lose everything she cared about. Prometheus couldn't touch her or her family anymore, and Connor did not just go through all of that just to doubt their relationship now. It would probably take some getting used to this peace and domesticity.

Plane rides usually put Wren to sleep. Something about the hum of the engines. Connor woke her gently as the lane prepared to land. Once the plane touched the ground and it was safe, Wren sent a text to her mom just to make sure they were still good to be picked up. Shannon shot back that she awaited them near baggage claim. The four of them grabbed their carry-ons and headed to baggage claim, where they found Shannon awaiting by the exit.

With a grin, Shannon scurried forward and threw her arms around Wren. "Hello, sweetheart!"

"Hey, Mom," Wren replied, a soft smile toying with her lips. The more she saw her mother, the more she felt like she wasn't just Prometheus's creation.

"Connor, it's lovely to see you as always," said Shannon, embracing Connor as soon as she released Wren.

"You too," Connor murmured, his eyes glowing with warmth. Shannon moved onto Tina and Chloe, who both greeted Shannon excitedly.

Shannon led the way to her car, where they loaded their luggage before clamoring into seats. Once at the house, Shannon extended her arms proudly. "This is the first year I've decorated for Christmas in a long time."

A small tree sat in the corner of the living room, twinkling with white lights. Ornaments glittered and flashed whenever Wren turned her head, allowing the different angles to cause the light to catch differently. A lit garland wrapped around the banister leading upstairs. The house smelled of evergreen and cinnamon. "It looks beautiful."

Shannon beamed. "Thank you, sweetie."

"You've got a nice house, Mrs. Blanchard." Tina's eyebrows raised as she gazed around. "Do you hunt?"

"Thank you," said Shannon, her eyes flitting warily to the deer head mounted on the wall above the fireplace, "and no, I don't. Charles still hasn't moved everything out."

"Is he going to be there tomorrow?" Wren queried, tensing. It was James's wedding, and he was welcome to invite whoever he wanted, but she hoped that her father wouldn't be there. She wasn't in the mood to argue with her father about Connor.

"No," said Shannon. "James didn't want him to come."

"Good," said Wren, relaxing. "I mean, not good, but… good."

Shannon took a deep breath. "Well, why don't all of you get settled, and then come eat something? Then we'll head over to Anahi's parents place to start decorating for tomorrow."

"It's not going to be here?" Wren queried.

"No, Anahi's mother insisted."

Wren shrugged. It wasn't like her mother's backyard was that beautiful, anyway. It was mostly just snow and empty lot. "Tina and Chloe can have James's old room, right?"

"That was the plan," smiled Shannon, shuffling toward the kitchen.

Wren led the way upstairs and pointed Tina and Chloe down the hall. Tina mentioned something about a short nap, and trudged down the hall, Chloe in tow. Waking up for an early flight wasn't her strong suit, apparently. Wren and Connor slipped into her old bedroom, and the door clicked shut behind them.

Unzipping her suitcase, Wren sifted through the few outfits she packed and laid out something a semi-casual outfit for that evening. Apparently, James and Anahi wanted everyone to have dinner, as this was the first time their families were meeting. With an uncomfortable twinge in her stomach, Wren suspected Charles was the primary reason for their families not ever meeting.

"I didn't think holding hands would earn us so many looks."

Wren froze. So, it had been the looks to cause him some discomfort. Was that enough to make him doubt their relationship, after everything they'd been through? Was that the real reason he didn't want to be intimate with her? Was he preparing for them to separate? Were they just doomed to love tragically?

"That's what was bothering you on the plane." A tight band of dread snaked around Wren's heart. It made breathing difficult.

"Yes," said Connor. He kept his back to her as he sank down on the edge of the bed. As if reading her anxiety—which he probably did—he added, "Don't misunderstand me, though. I'm not questioning us."

Wren blew out a heavy breath, and some of the tightness in her chest uncoiled. Connor looked over his shoulder at her; his brow puckered.

"You thought I was?"

Wren cleared her throat. "I may have started jumping to the worst conclusions."

Twisting around, Connor leaned forward, his eyebrows raised in earnest. "Never doubt that I love you, Wren."

Setting her suitcase on the floor to clear space on the bed, Wren sat down across from Connor. "I don't doubt that. I just… I think I'm still getting used to being free. I keep waiting for something bad to happen or for you to decide… that I wasn't worth it."

Connor squinted at her under a furrowed brow. "I would never think that."

"Logically, I know that," Wren sighed. "But we're supposed to be talking about you, not me."

It was Connor's turn to sigh and close his eyes. "I just underestimated how much of an effect these killings had on the general public's view of android-human relationships. I was hoping this fight would be an easy one."

"I know what you mean," Wren inched closer to Connor to rest her forehead on his shoulder. "But I'll never give up."

"Neither will I."

"We make a good team."

When Connor spoke, he smiled. "We do."

They sat like that for several seconds, neither of them wanting to move. Then, Wren shifted. "Promise to stay on the same page as me, please. We only work as a team. I tried pushing you away once, but…"

Connor's LED stuttered as he processed what Wren suggested, no doubt dragging up memories of earlier that year, where she treated him coldly and they both pined so much that it hurt. "I promise."

Eyes fluttering shut, Wren leaned toward Connor to place a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. But one of his hands flew to Wren's neck, and his lips parted, shifting the chaste display of affection to one more open-mouthed. Their mouths moved against one another, tongues flicking out to trace the edges of each other's lips. Wren's head spun, and her pulse jumped. Damn him. After sharing so many kisses, the bastard had memorized everything that made her knees weak. Her hands jumped to his shoulders to steady herself. When he kissed her like this, it immediately stirred heat in her blood.

After a moment, Connor broke off the kiss, but he didn't pull away. "Were you serious the other night?"

"About what?"

"About using my tie… for other purposes."

Heat flushed to Wren's cheeks. "It might be fun to try. But only if you're comfortable with that."

Connor cleared his throat. "I didn't know you were into... other things."

Wren laughed softly and withdrew from him. "I mean, I'm open to trying new things. Sex just doesn't have to be… the same every time, you know?"

Connor lifted his head, but he avoided Wren's gaze. "Is it because I don't satisfy you?"

"Connor, no, that's not it at all," Wren cupped his face, trying to shift into his field of view. Connor's brow pinched, and Wren's heart lurched in her chest. Shit. She hadn't wanted him to feel insecure. Spicing up the bedroom wasn't even a need or priority at the moment—they'd only had sex twice—and now Connor felt like he wasn't good enough. Wren dragged a sharp breath into her lungs. "Remember the first time we had sex and I cried?"

"Yes, you called yourself a loser."

"Yeah," Wren muttered, her skin prickling. "You've seen my memories. Sex hasn't always been easy for me. It was kind of scary our first time, being vulnerable like that with you. I didn't mean to suggest that I wasn't happy with you or anything. I just meant that… I trust you enough to try new things together."

His LED cycled, and he finally met her gaze. "I hadn't considered that. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. If you're not comfortable with it, we don't have to do anything too risqué," Wren promised. "You satisfy me plenty."

A smug, lopsided smirk touched Connor's mouth. His cheekiness faded as quickly as it appeared, though. "Thank you, Wren. For trusting me."

Wren brushed her fingers through the flop of hair that always hung down his forehead. "Thank you for being someone I can trust."

A soft smile warmed Connor's eyes. "How are your ribs?"

Without offering a response, Wren slipped her shirt off. Connor let out a small huff—whether in protest, exasperation, or desire, she wasn't sure—and grazed her torso with his eyes. "I can lift my arms over my head, no problem."

Connor's eyes glazed over as he scanned her, checking to make sure she was healing properly. "You don't have to remove your shirt for me to scan you."

"I know," Wren chirped. Damn it, she wanted to be vulnerable with him. She'd been strong for so long, hiding her emotions and hurting others for the greater good, chipping away pieces of her soul to take down Prometheus and Typhon, that now… Now, she just wanted to be vulnerable. Let someone else be strong for a while.

Connor's fingers traced her sides, where the bruises on her skin yellowed at the edges. Some had disappeared completely. Most of her cuts were mere slits in her skin. "You're so beautiful."

Wren's heart cracked open at the tenderness in Connor's voice. A coy response locked in her throat. It didn't seem like the right moment, anyway. Instead, she kissed him. He responded gently, his fingers ghosting up her sides, and over her shoulders. His touch peppered goosebumps on her human skin. She moved to straddle him, careful not to show any sign that her ribs bothered her—and really, the pain was mild now—and Connor sighed against Wren's mouth. Desire sparked within her.

The sounds he made were just so pretty.

His hands drifted back down to her hips, and he pressed her down onto his lap. However, he stopped the kiss to look at her. "Wren, you're still in pain."

"It's not bad," Wren whined, fingers messing with the buttons of Connor's flannel. She hesitated. "Do you… Do you not want to?" Do you want me touched the tip of her tongue, but she held it back.

Connor's fingers traced the lace of Wren's bra. Shivers danced down her spine like little spasms of lightning. Sitting up more, he pressed kisses to the tops of her breasts. Then, he tilted his head back to gaze up at her. "Can't you feel how much I do?"

Arousal rippled through her, because she could feel how much he wanted her. "Then why don't we…?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm not made of glass, Connor."

Connor grabbed her shirt and handed it to her. Her heart hung its head as she slipped her shirt back on. Her movement jostled her weight in Connor's lap, and he grunted quietly. Tugging her hair out of the collar of her shirt, Wren sighed at him.

"You know, if I stay on top, I can control how much I'm moving," she teased.

Connor leaned his head back. "Wren…"

"Why are you so afraid of hurting me? You're not a feral animal."

His LED cycled into amber, and he avoided her eyes. "I… You just said you trust me to be vulnerable like this. I know this means a lot to you. It means a lot to me, too. You're the only person I've done anything like this with before. I… I know how Jonah treated you. I never want you to associate sexual intimacy with me by thinking I'm acting like him."

"Why would I think that, if I'm the one initiating, despite my injuries?" Wren sank back onto Connor's thighs.

Turning his head away from Wren—presumably so she couldn't see his LED—Connor still evaded her gaze. "I… I don't know. Maybe I just don't want there to be any discomfort with me. Sometimes, I… I have rather dirty thoughts about you."

"Connor, look at me." At last, he did, though his expression remained rather distressed. Wren cupped his face. "Firstly, I want you to know that I have never felt unsafe with you. In fact, you're so gentle with me sometimes that I wonder if I deserve it. Secondly, I want you to be on the same page with me. You trust me enough to do these things with me, and I feel the same way about you. We need to communicate about sex. It's healthy. That's why I mentioned the stuff about your tie. You think I don't have dirty thoughts about you sometimes?"

Connor's eyebrows raised. "You do?"

Wren laughed. "Sweetheart, I've been trying to jump your bones the past couple of nights we've been together."

A faint blue blush dusted Connor's cheeks. "I don't have bones."

"Okay, smartass."

At last, Connor weaved his arms around her waist. "You do deserve gentleness, Wren. I never want you to think that I'm just using you for pleasure. I want you to feel how much I love you."

Wren's eyes brimmed with hot tears that stung her sinuses. Fuck, Connor was so sweet. She thanked whatever higher power was out there for letting her be alive at the same time as him. "I do feel that. I hope you feel it from me, too."

Connor's brow curved as his hands moved to her face. "I do."

Wren moved to get off him, but his hands were at her hips in an instant, holding her in place. "Wait."

"What's wrong?"

"Do you have any other ideas of things you'd like to try?" Connor looked up at her innocently.

Wren's eyes stretched. "Hang on, I've already shared one of mine. It's your turn."

Tongue flashing out to wet his lips, Connor shifted underneath her. "I'm not sure I have anything specific like you."

"But you have thoughts."

The blue on Connor's cheeks darkened. "Yes."

"Like what?"

"I… It's highly unprofessional," Connor choked, "but remember at Zlatko's, when we were in that… tight space?"

Zlatko's… Tight space… Wren's skin heated. Oh. Yeah. She bent over against him and he had scrambled out of there, looking panicked. She hadn't meant to fluster him, but she wasn't able to deny the frisson of satisfaction that wove through her skin when she had realized she did fluster him. "Yeah, I remember. That's not… Super dirty, Connor."

"And at Atlas Montgomery's estate, when we hid in the storage closet?"

Connor found that hot? Being in tight spaces together? He just… wanted to be close? "Yeah?"

"I wanted you both times. I'm not sure why, I just… Something about the proximity and the danger… That's why it feels dirty, because in one instance we were at risk of being murdered, and the other we weren't alone."

Suddenly, it clicked. "You like a little bit of risk."

"It's very unprofessional," Connor emphasized.

"It's kind of sexy," Wren grinned.

Connor widened his eyes. "You… agree?"

"Yeah." Tension bled out of Connor's shoulders immediately. Lifting a brow, Wren smirked at him. "That's not that bad. You had me thinking it was going to be a dealbreaker."

Connor rolled his eyes. "I'm still new to this."

Wren softened and kissed his forehead. "I know. Thank you for trusting me."

Instead of responding, Connor hugged her closer to him, burying his face in her breasts. A knock sounded on the door, and Wren and Connor stiffened.

"Wren, honey? Are you busy?"

Wren swallowed before calling out, "Give me a second, Mom."

"Okay. Just wanted your help with something." Her mother's footsteps retreated down the stairs.

"I didn't even hear her," Connor whispered.

A soft giggle escaped Wren's lips as she moved to get off of Connor, but he held her in place again. "Connor, my mom—"

"I love you."

Wren sagged down, and then pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "I love you, too."

The rest of the day was spent decorating the enormous backyard of Anahi's parents' mansion. No one mentioned that Anahi's family was loaded. Wren, Tina, and Chloe helped arrange flowers and decorate table settings while Connor assisted in hanging twinkle lights.

Wren did her best to tease Connor. Maintaining physical contact whenever possible was the top method. She kept it subtle and innocent. Most people wouldn't even notice or would ignore it.

At first, it seemed her efforts did nothing. Then, Connor let out a small gasp as Wren squeezed in between him and a table. She could've easily gone around the table, but that was way less fun. She even placed her hands on Connor's hips as she slipped past him, her whole body brushing against his back. As Wren walked away, Connor cast her a bemused look that caused the apples of her cheeks to pop with a poorly hidden smile.

She got away with that move twice. The second time, Connor looked exasperated as she passed him on the front, never breaking eye contact. She winked at him as she left him to resume decorating.

At dinner, though, Wren toned down her behavior. All the wedding prep left her tired, and the socializing with new people made it even worse. Instead, she just held Connor's hand under the table. Every now and then, she offered him a little squeeze. He returned it and cast a soft smile that sent warmth expanding throughout her chest.

The restaurant—which was probably one of the fanciest places Wren had ever been to—served them soup or salad before their entrees, though most people picked soup due to the cold outside. The waiter carried a tray of little cups of soup. Flames flickered upon the surface of each soup bowl. The waiter set the soups down in front of all the humans, save for Shannon, who picked a salad.

"Damn, this is fancy fancy," Tina muttered out of the corner of her mouth, spooning a bit of the still-flaming soup and bringing it to her mouth.

"Tina—" Chloe tried, but Tina had already put the flaming soup into her mouth.

She spat it out. "S'hot."

"It's on fire, Tina," Connor pointed out flatly.

Tina and Wren burst out laughing, which Chloe joined in with her tinkling giggles. Across the table, Izzy cackled and pointed at Tina. Connor smirked and shook his head.

Damn. Freedom felt good.

The rest of the dinner proceeded casually, though the waiters were very good at keeping wine glasses filled. Wren and Tina were flushed, giggling messes before their soups were even finished, leaving Connor and Chloe to share bemused, exasperated glances. Wren didn't usually like drinking in excess, but this wine was sweet and didn't taste too dry, which made it dangerous.

Resting her chin on her hand, Wren beamed at Connor. Boyfriend seemed too casual a word for what he was to her. Gosh, he was so fucking pretty. His freckles appeared like constellations, and the way his mouth usually slid into a lopsided smile rather than a perfect one only warmed Wren's heart. It just made him cuter. His lips were softer than a human's—all of his skin was—and squishy, like marshmallows. Sometimes, it was difficult to believe that he could kill everyone in the room if he wanted.

A frown puckered Connor's brow. "Did I do something weird?"

It was a question he only asked when he feared he'd done something too robotic or not human enough. It was rare that Wren received this question, but according to Hank, Connor asked it a lot right after he deviated.

"No," Wren giggled, "you're just so handsome."

Connor's eyebrows raised, but that soft half-smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. He seemed to be at a loss for words, so he just squeezed Wren's thigh under the table.

The dark eyes of Anahi's mother—Juana—settled on Wren and Connor for a long moment. However, before she spoke, Wren's phone rang.

The caller I.D. deflated all sense of security Wren had been enjoying for the past few days. Taking a sip of icy water in an effort to sober herself, she left the table and slipped into the bathroom.

"Rhett," Wren greeted with stiff lungs, "if you're calling for my help with something, I should warn you that I'm not entirely sober."

"Glad you're having fun," Rhett replied. In her inebriated state, it was difficult to tell if Rhett was sincere or not. Part of Wren felt he was making fun of her, but she didn't question it.

"What's up?"

"Just giving you a heads up," Rhett replied, "that Pauline's trial finally concluded."

"That was fast." Wren's heart punched against her ribs. "The verdict?"

"She's going to prison for a very long time."

The air whooshed out of Wren's lungs, and her knees buckled, so she gripped the counter. Tears jumped to her eyes, and a sob of overwhelming relief threatened to rip through her body. Wren covered her mouth to stifle the noise.

"Wren? You still there?"

Get ahold of yourself. Wren sucked in a sharp breath and trained her eyes at the ceiling to keep from full-on crying. "Yeah. I'm good. Thank you for telling me."

"There's more," Rhett warned, and Wren tensed. Of fucking course there was. "To get a lesser sentence, Pauline gave some names of others involved with Prometheus."

"And? The suspense is killing me, Rhett."

"And she named Senator Jordan Holt, Axel Brewer, Atlas Montgomery, Dr. Ellis Hughman—who's still on the loose—and Shasha Andronikov."

"Andronikov? As in, Zlatko Andronikov?"

"Extended family from Russia, yes."

Wren's stomach lurched. "This isn't over, is it?"

"No," Rhett muttered grimly. "I wanted to tell you before you saw the news. Because some pretty high-profile people were involved, some of whom we already knew about, this is going public. Not everything, of course, but a lot of this won't be in the dark."

"Like what?"

Rhett sighed. "Like your identity. You, Jamie, and Nina are no longer anonymous. I'm sorry."

Wren gripped the edge of the counter tighter. "Are you kidding me?"

"Wren—"

"That's putting a target on my back!" Wren hissed. "Any allies of Prometheus now know exactly who I am, not to mention the general public—"

She pushed off the sink to pace the bathroom, dragging a hand through her hair.

"They're not going to come after you," Rhett promised. "What's left of Prometheus and its allies is scattered and disorganized. Besides, you've been framed as a hero. At the very least, you're a prize for humanity. You're proof that we can go on—"

"A prize," Wren scoffed, "awesome."

"Wren, I'm sorry. There was nothing I could do."

"I know, I know," Wren sighed, rubbing her forehead. Her heart beat into her throat, threatening to empty her stomach of all the soup and wine from earlier. "Pauline just wanted to fuck me over one last time."

"Yeah. I'll keep you updated on our pursuit of the remaining members of Prometheus. You're still free, Wren. That should count for something."

Rhett hung up before Wren could retort something biting and sarcastic. Slipping her phone back into her pocket, she gripped the edges of the sink and took a few deep breaths. She didn't want to get wrapped up in politics. She didn't want people to know her face. She wanted a fresh start, but of fucking course, Pauline just couldn't let her have that. Wren's phone vibrated with an incoming text.

Connor: Are you okay?

Wren: idk

Connor: Did you get sick?

Wren: no

Wren: I'll tell you later.

With a deep breath, Wren exited the bathroom and returned to the table. She offered Connor her best attempt at a reassuring smile, but it came out so weak and chagrined that Connor's LED cycled into yellow. Shit.

His fingers interlaced with hers under the table. The rest of the dinner slipped by in a haze. Prometheus really just needed to have the last word, didn't they?

Once at her mom's, Wren didn't say anything to Connor before brushing her teeth and taking off her makeup. Connor waited patiently on the bed, his LED a steady, anxious yellow. Finally, Wren sat across from him on the bed. She opened her mouth to explain, but no words came out. Instead, she lifted her hand, and her synthskin peeled back. Connor flattened his palm against hers, and the places where they touched glowed blue. His eyes zigzagged as he stared off into space, reliving the memory of Wren's conversation in the bathroom.

When it finished, Wren tried to drop her hand, but Connor caught it and kissed her palm. "It'll be okay."

"Do you really believe that?"

Connor lifted his eyes to meet hers. "Statistically, when we work together, we have a higher probability of success."

He had a point, and that settled Wren's nerves slightly. She let out a heavy breath and buried her face in her hands. "I'm so tired of this."

Connor shifted closer to her. "I know. You're not alone. Not this time."

His arms wrapped around her, and Wren buried her face in the crook of his neck. His synthskin bore a faint smell of cigarette smoke, thanks to Anahi's father's smoking habit. But underneath that was the soft scent of synthskin—vaguely plastic but still sweet—and it managed to soothe Wren's heart a bit. Connor was right. She wasn't alone in this fight.

"I guess a lot of things are going to change, huh?"

"Most likely," Connor admitted. "But I think you'll find that it won't be as drastic as you're imagining."

Blowing out a soft breath, Wren pulled back from Connor. "As long as we're together, right?"

There it was, that crooked, gentle half-smile of Connor's that always sparked a clench in Wren's chest. "Right."

And that's a wrap on Book 2! Sorry it's been a while. A lot has happened, and I felt like I needed to replay the game to reignite my passion. I got a job finally; it's full-time, so trying to juggle it and writing has become a new challenge, but I am dedicated to this series, I promise!

I replayed the game and got my friend into it, so I'm all fired up for it again. I also re-read my own series to refresh my memory on Connor and Wren (and took notes on loose ends that I need to tie up in Book 3). I've started my outline for Book 3. It's pretty disorganized at the moment timeline-wise, but I've got a lot planned! Way more fluff than this one, but still plenty of action and angst/whump (because I love pain apparently). I'm also trying to get more confident with more explicit scenes, so there might be some more… *ahem* next book. There wasn't a whole lot in this one, but now that Connor and Wren are free… Well, they've got time to actually be a couple more in the next one, lol.

I'm really excited about Book 3, which I will be posting the first chapter of next Sunday (June 13th), so be on the lookout for it!

Thank you all for showing love and support (and patience) for this story. Electric Love means the world to me, and it's incredibly heartwarming to see that so many people love it, too. I'm really happy to be back now that my life feels a little less hectic now (for a minute there, I took a break from writing anything because I had so much going on). I will try my best to keep to a regular posting schedule, but you all know how life goes.

Anyway, please let me know what you thought of this chapter!

Next week, look for Electric Love 3: Of Veins and Wires!