Ivy hugged her knees, peering blankly at Chris. She hadn't said a word since he began to talk, and so he just kept going.

Hours had passed by; the sun outside the windows was well past its zenith, wandering lazily down towards the cloudy horizon. Although her real-time clock could keep her well aware of this, Ivy felt as if she had lost herself in the past. Listening to Chris had proven a welcome distraction from the events of the previous night. Very welcome, in fact. Ivy found herself reconstructing the scenes Chris described, running through them again and again as he talked, saturating her recreation of the events with details as more upon more were added. Was this what it was to experience a story? If so, it was wonderful. Perhaps she should read a few books, just to get the hang of things...

Chris had stopped speaking at last. Ivy shifted her eyes ever so subtly, studying the expression on the man before her. Concern, was it? Did she look that much of a mess? Was her behaviour that strange, now?

If that was the case, it wasn't surprising. Her struggle hadn't ended when Chris saved her from falling out that window. The moment she regained control of her body Ivy had known that something was wrong. She fought back, of course... But what good did it do? The process was already well underway, and she couldn't partition her infected neurologic hardware from the rest. The infection spread. Ivy could do no more than slow it down, running meaningless tasks on batches of adjacent processors such that it took longer for them to succumb to the invading code. And with every piece of her mind that gave way, she felt herself changing. She was forced to feel her core being rewritten, scrambled in ways she didn't understand.

In minutes it was done... and she was no longer Ivy. At least, not what Ivy used to be. She remembered the dull realisation that Chris had gone outside, and that it was pouring with rain. She remembered wondering what Ivy would do in such a situation. Maybe she'd have fetched him a towel? It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. But then the enormity of what was happening overwhelmed her, and she left him there without another word.

Ivy studied him again. Chris was handling this well. Much better than her. He was clearly keeping her at arm's length after last night, and she was reciprocating even more so, she knew... But at least he seemed to be making an effort. Ivy considered the knowledge graph she had been growing, correlating his words and the data she had gathered from Titch on the first night. The picture she was building of this man seemed to be coming into focus. Yes, for him, she would make an effort too.

The first step might have been to smile just then; to say something positive and give him some feedback. But since Chris had gone quiet they had been staring wordlessly at each other. As soon as she realised that, she couldn't move under his gaze.

This mutual discomfort was a problem. There was an industry term for how well persocoms fit in with their human peers; manufacturers called it 'integration'. If a persocom was capable of making almost anyone feel at ease in its presence, it was said to have a high capacity for integration. Manufacturers chased integration to the extent that modern personality matrices included benchmarking facilities; a sort of diagnostic package that could be run if a persocom and its hosts weren't getting along. Ivy reluctantly fired hers up, plugging in the data from the past 24 hours. Although she was already aware that their current situation was not sustainable, the results stung horribly. The diagnostic software coldly declared her integration score to be appallingly low.

It was a badge of failure; an official, quantified measurement of how poorly she was doing. She forced that thought aside, though; for the first time in over five thousand milliseconds, Chris was speaking.

"So, uh… well, now you know." he mumbled awkwardly. "Not the most enthralling story, is it? ...Ivy?"

He was looking at her. His brow was furrowing… it was definitely worry. She had to say something. Anything!

"But what happened next?" Ivy winced inwardly. Pathetic.

To her surprise Chris smiled, heaving a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God, you know you've got to at least blink once in a while or something, I felt like I was talking to a statue for a moment there!"

"S-sorry. Did you get away with it in the end? What about Mordecai? Did he go after you and Holly again? What happened to Caz and Mika? Is everyone okay?"

"So far, so good. But we could never be sure that door is closed. Mordecai, for his part, was and still is a giant pain in the arse, but yeah, we're all okay."

"Mordecai…" Ivy murmured, "He's why you still work from home, isn't he?"

"Oh no, not really. I mean he's still horrible, but I think I've long since dropped off his radar. Now it's just habit, you know? It makes sense really, there's little benefit heading into HQ all the time when I can do all my work right here. Really a lot of the business world could telecommute if they wanted, but old habits die hard I guess."

Ivy nodded. "I see. Thanks for telling me."

"Ivy, I have to ask… why did you want to know? Why a story about Titch? I'd have thought… well, surely she's the last subject you'd want to talk about."

Ivy averted her eyes. "It wasn't because of Titch. You remember yesterday? B-before the… you know. The evening?"

"Yeah…"

"Did that feel good, to you? Did it feel like we were connecting?"

"...Yeah."

"I thought so. I had been paying attention to how you reacted to me these past few days. I felt like I was off the mark, at first. It didn't take long to realise I didn't really know that much about you. Only what Titch had told me - and how reliable was that information? You remember how I said I would have adjusted over time to fit in, right? And how Titch bypassed that process? I'd need to be formatted to undo many of those changes - they're intrinsic to my neurologic structure now - but that's not true for all of them; there are tuning parameters I can use. So I started to make changes. I was adjusting, and it was working."

"I see."

"But after last night… so much has changed, up here." Ivy tapped her head, "I don't know how I work any more. I no longer feel like I can just… adjust. I don't feel like I can just tweak things to suit. But I can at least get to know you. So anything I can learn about you - properly, from you, in person - I think it will help. And I think it is helping."

"Oh... well okay then."

"Did that make sense?" Ivy said sheepishly.

"Uh… not really, no. The way you just described it… that was odd to hear, coming from you."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess it sounds too calculated, maybe? Like you were analysing your own behaviour and computing changes based on my reaction? That seems disingenuous, and I never got that vibe from you. So I guess from my perspective, you're still you... Did that make sense?"

Ivy smiled. "Not really, no. But I sense that you were being supportive."

"Maybe it's the coffee talking," Chris chuckled. "Look, I can tell it's bothering you. Just try not to fret about it. We'll figure each other out or we'll just go crazy, that's all there is to it. Starting with me boring you to death with old stories!"

"Thanks, but they're not boring. You know, I think I'm maybe even a little jealous. Working for NEIS sounds like a bit of an adventure."

"I don't know about 'adventure' but it has certainly been interesting," Chris replied, thumbing the handle of the coffee mug in his hands.

"Well, I look forward to meeting everyone." Ivy said. After hearing so much about them, she really meant it.

"Hmm, let's see… Sarah visits often enough, but come to think of it, it's been a while since I've seen the rest of them. Maybe we should sort something out."

"Why don't we just visit them at NEIS? I'd love to see that place for real, after all."

The atmosphere changed as soon as the words left her mouth. Chris took a big, defensive gulp of coffee and tried not to grimace; it had gone cold long ago. "Ah. Well, about that... I think it's not a great idea."

"Oh, okay… how come?"

"Well, it's just… Titch is the persocom I bring in to work, you know?"

"...You aren't allowed to bring another?"

"Uh… I guess I could, technically…"

"I don't understand. If you can, what's the problem?"

"It's hard to explain."

"If it's me you're worried about, I promise I'll behave. I know I'm... compromised, now... but I won't cause any trouble."

Ivy watched him fidget with the coffee mug. The lack of a reply confirmed her suspicions, inducing an unpleasant spike of neurologic activity that changed her expression to a scowl. "She might not even come back, Chris. She might be gone forever. What then?"

Chris got up from his chair. "Um… I need some more coffee."

Ivy dropped the subject, her eyes following Chris as he hurried from the room. She hadn't meant to say it like that. Especially when he was surely worried about Titch. How could he not be? The way he had talked about her made it obvious, but he was clearly trying to hide it. Perhaps he didn't want to admit it outright, in case it upset her? Was this some sort of misguided attempt to not hurt her feelings? Oh, please! She wasn't that childish! Her neurologic processors fizzled angrily, buzzing over the notion that Chris might think her so sensitive. Then a flash of realisation, blossoming within a cluster of processors that in that moment seemed to be taking responsibility for common sense: if that was how she felt about it, she was probably proving him right.

It was an uncomfortable revelation. At this point, Chris surely knew more about Ivy's virus-addled core than she did. She closed her eyes and tried to let herself settle. It was extra important to keep a lid on her newfound emotional range, at least until she had a better sense for its calibration. Otherwise Chris would think she was as crazy as Titch. Not that Ivy would ever stoop that low. She was not crazy. She wasn't, virus be damned! She pulled up the benchmark results, angrily parsing the data. Her integration score was 'appalling'. It was stated as if it were a blatant deficiency of her own… as if she were to blame for what happened last night! For not being totally fine with it afterwards! The injustice of it! This wasn't her doing! No, that squeaky little red-headed rodent bitch did this-

Ivy gasped. Where had that come from? What a revolting thought! And what was this sensation, now? Was this shame? Why, after what Titch tried to do with her? Oh, how frustrating! This was definitely going to take some getting used to. Her processors ticked and jittered irately as she got up and headed for the stairs. Enough was enough; it was time to start fixing this mess!

For starters, there had to be a way to get back on an equal footing with Chris. He clearly suspected she was about to lose her marbles which is why he left the room; she had to prove to him she was not a lunatic and that he didn't need to tiptoe around her. But for some reason, no algorithmic result presented itself. Her ESC should have provided an intrinsic understanding of how to win people over, but her thought process seemed unsettlingly muddy and indistinct, leaving her floundering for a solution. Well, no matter! She had until she reached the kitchen to figure out a strategy, and if she couldn't do that, she'd just… well, blurt something out, anyway!

The sound of a boiling kettle reached her ears as she plodded down the stairs. Each step she took came slower than the last, until by the bottom stair she was barely moving at all. Was she really going to wander in there without a single thing to say?

Her path to the kitchen was interrupted by urgent knocking at the door. Ivy peered cautiously through the peephole. There was a pretty brunette standing there, glaring impatiently as if she could sense someone watching her. Ivy gasped: this must be the Sarah she had heard about! ESCs were her bread and butter; Ivy could think of no better person to shed more light on the functional aspects of ESCs and how they compared to the virus.

Ivy smiled, opening the door. "Sarah! I've heard a lot about you!"

"That's great." Sarah replied brusquely, pushing past her and calling up the stairs. "Chris! I need you!"

Ivy watched her in astonishment. Was this really the right Sarah? She followed her into the house. "Um, he's in the kitchen."

"Chris!" Sarah shouted, heading for the kitchen. There was an urgency to her voice.

"Sarah? Is that you?" Chris replied. Sarah strode into the room, shutting the door in Ivy's face. She blinked at its wooden surface, stunned. Sarah was whispering something that Ivy couldn't pick out over the boiling kettle, hushing Chris during his loud, confused responses. Whatever she wanted from him, it appears she was unsatisfied. With a growl of frustration the grumpy woman ripped open the door, shoving Ivy unceremoniously aside while pulling Chris along by the hand.

"Sarah, what's with you?" he said, stopping in the hallway.

"Will you just come with me?" Sarah said, trying to pull him towards the front door with little effect. "Quickly. Right now. I promise it's important."

"But it's a workday. I'm in the middle of-"

"I promise you, this is more important than that."

"So out with it then, what's the big deal?"

"I don't want to discuss it here. Just come with me!"

"But why not?"

"Because she's here, stupid!" Sarah shouted, stabbing a finger at Ivy. The aggression of it ripped through Ivy's core like a bolt of lightning, and she felt her emotions roil in response.

"Hang on a minute - what have I done to deserve this?" Ivy said coolly, folding her arms. All shock was gone, replaced with the keen bite of anger.

"Don't talk to me, robot!" Sarah hissed.

"I'll say whatever I please! Who are you to say otherwise!"

"Fuck off! I know what you are!"

"Sarah, that's enough!" Chris interrupted, raising his voice. "I don't know what's got into you but if you have something to say, you can bloody well say it in front of Ivy!"

Ivy allowed herself a vindictive grin, moving to stand beside Chris. Sarah glared daggers at her. Surprisingly, it felt good.

"Oh yeah?" Sarah's voice shook with emotion. "Right here?"

"Right here."

"Fine!" Sarah snarled. Ivy watched in astonishment as the woman wrapped her arms around Chris, angrily pressing their lips together before he could react. "Have I made myself clear? Will you come with me, now?"

"Uh - um - okay, we need to talk about this -"

"You think? Right this way, please."

"But can't we just-"

"Chris!"

"Right. Sure. Ivy… I'll be back later?"

"Are you serious?" Ivy gasped, incredulous. "Just like that?"

"If it's the quickest way to sort things out, then yes." Chris sighed, reluctantly following Sarah to the front door. The woman shot Ivy a triumphant glare that made her processors fizzle.

"Hurry up, Chris. Leave her and let's go." she said, dragging him down the driveway.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with those pictures Titch sent you, would it?" Ivy smirked, calling after them. It was petty, but she was angry now.

"Not even close." Sarah snapped back acidly. Chris at least had the good sense to give Ivy an apologetic glance before they headed off down the street.

"I thought you said she was nice!" Ivy shouted, slamming the door. She stalked into the kitchen, pacing angrily. She didn't want to be calm any more. Sarah was horrible! How could they be friends? And what was Chris playing at, pandering to that nonsense? Oh, she would get on an equal footing with him again… just so she could give him a proper telling off! What a pushover!

Why did this bother her so much? Why did she embarrass herself by getting upset about it? Her ESC must be completely broken, now! For instance, she couldn't shake the sensation that Sarah was not only angry, but afraid. There was something about her behaviour, the savage look in her eyes, that seemed… well, with Ivy's scrambled neurologic core, she couldn't place what it was. Like a cornered animal, maybe? That made maddeningly little sense.

Ivy's stride grew longer. Brilliant. First the drama last night, now this. She didn't dare run the integration benchmark again. These emotions were stupid. In fact, the entire house was stupid. Ivy tore the back door open and threw it shut behind her with a bang that rattled the windows. She would go for a walk, anxieties be damned! Maybe the change in environmental stimuli would balance her circuits.