It just figured. He'd sworn to himself that he'd never fall in love again and yet, when he'd least expected it, it'd happened. Perhaps "falling in love" was an incorrect term. One couldn't fall in love with a 'droid. Being infatuated, was probably a more accurate description. He'd seen her in a space pub, a P10-Companion model, and couldn't get her out of his mind since. Of course, maybe he wasn't actually thinking with his brain---

a perfect 10
all the right curves
and a tender smile

His infatuation became an obsession. In a Pit Stop pawn shop, he picked up a beat up old Washburn guitar for a few credits, and began to write love songs to her. HA! That was a sure sign of his madness. Love songs for an android!

sentimental blues
her receptors tuned elsewhere
exquisite agony

He went back to performing. There was nothing else he could do. He tried to erase what he was feeling, tried to sing it out of himself. Desire was too dangerous; Love even more so.

walking a fine line
bittersweet insanity
dreams of her touch

He left the sector on several occassions, but always returned, scanning the faces in the station pubs, searching for her smile, longing. But it was wasted effort and emotion. He knew that she could never love him back. His music escalated beyond anything he'd ever imagined, and the fans went wild for his new sound. He became more famous than ever. Still, he could not stop thinkng of her.

android image
burned into both retinas
flaming desire

He paced the station corridors, love sick, ignoring the prostitutes and over-eager groupies. The real women and girls. The ones who could feel. The ones who could ultimately hurt him. Then it hit him: Maybe he was in love with her inabililty to reject him. Was that it? Maybe he should find out.

arranged tryst
abandoned corridor
hesitant footfalls

When he finally came face to face with her, she was the perfectly acquiescent android specimen which he'd expected. Her programmed behavior was disappointingly predictable. She would have pleasured him there, on the dusty floor of the unused servo corridor, as he was well aware, but his momentary satisfaction would have only left him feeling even more empty than before. She was nothing more than a pretty doll, a fancy toy.

He gave her a final, sad look, then turned to leave, but her quick, softly spoken words shot through him, like a bolt of lightning, halting him where he stood.

"You're the Tin Man, aren't you? I--enjoy--your songs."

speechless moment
singer struck totally dumb
strange twist

He turned back to her, elation and doubt warring within him. Had he heard her correctly? He took her delicate chin in his hand, gazed deeply into her green glass eyes. A tender smile curved the corners of her lips. She glanced down, touched his tattoo gently, the one that read "No Heart", and an oily tear of understanding ran down her cheek.

communion
suddenly, in empty chests
hearts blossom