It was a funny thing… Mortalis was incapable of feeling or expressing emotion, yet everyone treated him as though he could, or might, at any time.
Which was always possible…
Ace sighed, shutting the filing cabinet drawer. The more irritating part of things was that no one considered him capable of expressing emotion, much less having them.
But he did…
The cyborg straightened a bit. “Yeah Fox?
“You said I needed an exam.”
“Afraid so. I just want to check and see that your glands aren’t still sore from the last cold you had.” Ace replied, pulling out an old stool to sit on.
Fox sat in the chair across from him, and closed her eyes patiently.
He gently pressed against her neck with his fingers, watching to see if she winced.
She didn’t, and he got the opportunity to study her face. She was absolutely beautiful to him, and he always felt at ease around her.
Ace idly wondered if she could feel his pulse through his fingers, the way his heart was pounding.
Her feathers were so soft, not at all like human skin…
He jerked his hand back like he’d been burned, and turned away before Fox could see his face.
He couldn’t take advantage of his role here. It was unfair to her, and it broke every rule he’d ever heard of about being a doctor.
She sounded puzzled, and he winced.
“You’re fine.” He answered, a bit more brusque than he might have been.
“Is there anything else you need?”
Yes. Tell me you don’t find me repulsive as a cyborg, as a human. Sit and talk to me…
“Nope. You’re all done.” Was what came out instead.
He felt a light pat on the back, and she left.
Ace slumped into the chair she had vacated.
No one considered a Cyborg having the heart of a poet. No one assumed a half-man, half-machine could be lonely, or ache to hold someone that meant the world to him.
Every day he envied Mortalis more.
Perhaps being emotionless wasn’t so painful.
The doctor turned back to the filing cabinet, and went back to updating his medical charts.
Ace, the cyber-hunk is mine. All mine! And copyright 2003.
Fox and Mortalis are copyright FoxStar, 2003.