The streets of Los Angeles smelled of blood and gunmetal, and David Arden reeked of both. Overhead the sky crackled and rumbled like the radio static of a fallen god, freak bursts of chain lightning ringing out damning cadenzas of dying ions.

This is some way to spend Christmas day, David thought to himself. His boots thudded rhythmically against the cracked concrete and steel of the old city, as he ran, gun in his hand, toward the coordinates that HQ was feeding to him. Civilians filled the streets, shopping bags in hand. They stared, gaped, and then parted as David ran through. Far off in the distance, medleys of carols and Hare Krishna chants echoed amidst the tall dark buildings and the choking wires that filled the urban air like a devil's game of Cat's Cradle.

Go on, fight the beast, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Fight it and one day, you will become it. He ground the thought down hard as the snow slicked off his coat and onto the ground. He had already retired two this evening -- one of them had been unlucky enough to run from the VK, and a few shots at near point-blank range had been the end of him. The other one had come after him with a butcher knife, his eyes filled with fear and desperation. It had taken an entire clip to stop him.

Yes, this was definitely getting harder.

"BR Unit 15493, this is HQ." His headset crackled to life, startling him for a moment. "Can you confirm two retired, over?"

"Roger, HQ," He responded mechanically. "Suspects Able and Baker confirmed and retired, over."

"And Charlie, over?" The dispatcher sounded about as weary as David himself felt.

"En route now, over."

"Keep us posted; over and out." With that, the headset fell silent.

And then he was there; a small, decrepit building that seemed to cower between the more modern high-rises that surrounded it, ringed it in like an old caged animal.
He kicked at the door, which flew open easily. There, in the lobby, he could make out a huddled figure. A single precise motion brought the gun up, primed to kill. Ready. Cocked. Aimed.

"FREEZE! Put your hands up in the air where I can see them!"

"P...please... don't kill me..." The figure stood, hands in the air. It was a frightened, female voice; high and singular.

"Come out! Keep your hands up where I can see them!"

He almost dropped his gun as she came out of the darkness. She was small, had shoulder-length hair, with delicate features -- in this the composite sketches used during the briefing were correct. But what they had failed to mention was the abject, naked terror and resignation that burned in her eyes. She was shivering, too, partly because of the cold, partly because of the shock.

"So you're the one they sent me to kill. You don't seem dangerous... but none of your kind really do, at first."

"Wh...what are you t-t-talking about?"

"Let me guess. You don't know what you are, do you? I guess you deserve that, at least. You're not human; you're a rep. Nexus-6, as a matter of fact. A top-of-the-line killer, I guess you'd say."

"But isn't that what you are? A top-of-the-line killer?"

"Hey. I kill those who kill. Like your friends."

"Then... then... Miles? And Anders?"

David nodded. And he was completely unprepared to hear the girl crying quietly, in hiccupping cadences, as if trying to keep the pain in.

"I thought your kind wasn't supposed to have any empathy," David managed.

"And now you're going to send me to join them, aren't you?"

"Is that what you wish?"

"Will I dream?"

"What?" David was now completely shocked.

"Will I dream? You know, after you... 'retire' me."

"I... I don't know."

"Why is your hand shaking?"

As if on cue, the headset crackled to life again.

"BR Unit 15493, this is HQ. Status report, over."

What the hell, David thought. Uncocking his pistol, he motioned the girl into silence, then pulled the mic down. "HQ, I am on location. There are no traces of Suspect Charlie here. Repeat, Suspect Charlie is still on the loose. HQ advise, over?"

A different voice came on the line. "Unit 15493, this is HQ. Be advised that the building that you are currently in is located near the old sewer complexes. It is safe to assume that the suspect has probably gone underground by now, over."

"HQ, requesting permission to terminate investigation for the day, over."

"The tunnels are too extensive for one unit, and the danger is too great. Agreed; Unit 15493, you are dismissed, over and out."

David looked up, to see the girl staring at him in wonder. "Why did you do that?" she asked, "Aren't you going to... kill me?"

"Get out of here. When the investigation begins tomorrow, this is the first place they'll look." David turned to leave.

"W-wait! Why- ?"

"I might as well ask the same question of you. You've had your chance to kill me, just now. But that didn't even cross your mind, did it? Run away. I'm not going to kill you." and he smiled, slightly, as he heard her hurried footsteps fading away in the distance.

He had forgotten completely about her when, thirty minutes later, he walked down the stairs from the rooftop of his apartment building, heading to his set of rooms. As he turned the corner, he could make out amid the clutter and the flickering lights a figure curled into a ball in the middle of the hallway, by his door. He froze, automatically drawing his gun.

"Who's there?" His voice came out as a cold command, not a question.

"It's just me..." was the whispered response.

"You again! What the hell are you doing here?" As he watched, the ball uncurled, the thin and hunted silhouette of the girl he had let go strode toward him.

"I..." she faltered slightly, her eyes peering at him through the fall of dark hair.

"Don't you realize ..." noticing something, he stopped. "You're shivering!"

"So... cold..."

David sighed, defeated. Turning, he unlocked his door, allowing the light to spill out into the empty hall. "You wanna come in?" his voice pitched, unused to conveying gentleness. "You're going to freeze to death out there..."

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes wide and feral, untrusting. Then, the cold overrode even that, and she stumbled unwillingly forward, toward the door, into the light.

"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, stopping, staring at him, in a mixture of hope and fear.

"Well... you're cold, and you're tired. I'm putting you to bed."

"I thought you said you weren't going to kill me... ?" and she shrank away from him.

David almost wanted to laugh. "No, I mean for real. There's a perfectly good bed here, and I don't use it; I end up catching a few hours on the couch anyway. So take it; you're welcome to it."

"I..." she looked as if she were about to say something else, then changed her mind. "...thank you."

"Get some rest," David shook his head slightly. "You look tired." and with that, he slumped on the sofa himself, falling asleep almost immediately.

A hand on his shoulder, shaking him, woke him.

"Wha - " he mumbled, then snapped fully to attention.

"Ummmm..." her hair fell like a dark veil around her, enfolding her in age-old mystery. "I couldn't sleep."

"Yeah? Jitters? I don't blame you."

"Have you... have you ever seen the ocean?"

"Yeah, in photographs. Why?"

"I've never seen it before..."

"You should probably see it, at least once, you know?"

"Miles and Anders... they were always talking about it, how it was so huge, so... hey... are you listening?"

David looked down at his trembling hands at the mention of the two replicants he had retired earlier. Then, slowly, head down in defeat, he spoke. "You do realize... you do realize that I killed the two reps you're talking about..."

"Yes, but... you haven't killed me. Yet. What are you going to do to me? When are you going to take up that gun and end me?"

The headset that David had abandoned on the coffee table cracked to life once more. "BR Unit 15493, this is HQ. We have traced Suspect Charlie to your location. Stay on your guard. We're sending backup, ETA 5 minutes." And with a crackle, HQ went offline.

The girl stared at him now, her eyes like deep water. "So... what will you do with me?"

David snapped up to his feet, and in a sudden motion, took her hand. She did not resist. And then, to her bewilderment, he began running out the door with her.

"Let me tell you what I'm going to do with you."

"Wha- ?"

"I'm going to take you to see the ocean."

The run up to the roof, and then to the spinner was all surreal, and as he lifted off he could hear the faint sirens of police spinners in the distance, chasing him. For two hours they sped into the horizon, in search of the unseen waters.

And finally they were there. Darkness still enshrouded the air, but the sky lightened even now in preparation of the birth of a new day. Perfect, David thought.

They both climbed out of the spinner warily, stretching their cramped legs. Shyly, uncertainly, but with a kind of hope, she strode forth, taking his hand. A moment later, as the sun came up over the shattered waters, she let out a cry of delight that seemed to echo in the empty distances around them.

"Well, there it is," David whispered, "The ocean. What do you think?"

"It's so beautiful..." she whispered, turning to him. "Hold me?"

He looked down at her, for a moment, his heart overflowing with rich and jubilant pain, filling him like the chords of a great pipe organ. His arms opened wide, enfolding again, gently, protectively, as she melted away against him. The ocean lilted in a vast rhapsody against the shore. The sands shifted like golden, timeless prayers to an unseen god underneath their toes.

In the distance, but coming ever closer, the sirens wailed their bitter swansongs. As if in defense against what was to come, he held her a little bit closer, as close as he could.

And even as the shots rang out, he was glad that the sky would reflect the cornflower blue of her eyes forever.