Work Text:
They had only walked a couple of feet before 9S spoke again, euphoric on the promise they had just made.
"By the way—"
"You're being especially talkative today. We can't go shopping if we don't complete our objectives." 2B said as she continued on her path forward, eyes scouring the ground for useful equipment or parts.
Her partner’s steps slowed, his now trailing behind her.
"I know that!"
"Then, let's focus on the present and get back to the camp…Quietly 9S."
He made that prolonged hum in his throat that conveyed he wanted to keep talking.
And so, he did.
"But, that's the thing. You keep calling me 9S."
She paused, swiftly grabbing a discarded screw out of the grass.
"It's your name."
"Yea but, you…you did call me Nines back there, didn't you? In the castle, I mean." He took a dainty step in front of her, handing her a bolt that she had missed behind her—Scanners were indeed useful for this sort of thing.
2B accepted the bolt, graciously, before side-stepping him.
"If you're asking me, you probably misheard."
"What?!" 9S lurched, before scrambling to her side again. "No, I did hear you. I asked you about it before; I remember!"
"Then, why are you bringing it up again?"
"Because you didn't answer me!"
2B halted in her steps, exasperated. Why had she cleared this area of machines?
She pondered—briefly—about crying "false wolf" just to distract him. Instead, she adjusted her trajectory, and silently began searching a patch of grass she already checked.
“2B you—“ He averted his eyes when she bent over slightly to check one spot. “You really won’t tell me…?”
She turned her head to face him, taking a moment before deciding. “No, it’s past us.”
After remembering to take a cursory glance around, she straightened up and affirmed her intentions.
“Let’s go.”
He doesn’t ask questions.
Instead, his shoulders slumped in grumpy recognition.
“…Fine.”
They started walking again, seemingly more focused than before. Though, while her partner was keeping up with her pace, he also remained stuck on the issue.
“It really did sound a lot like it…but maybe, she just mixed up the ending with a ‘z’?” he muttered under his breath.
She doesn’t comment, even if a part of her wanted to correct him, as attributing the event to a basic error like that was illogical.
Eventually, silence settled between them once more and by the time they made it out of the commercial facility, 9S had alerted her to aggressive machines nearby and they'd shifted gears for combat.
But then, maybe the promise they made finally gets to her, too. Or maybe, there’s a direct correlation to be made between some of her more questionable actions and the way he smiles.
Either way, she calls out to him, in the midst of battle. Using 9S, of course.
He sighs, brief and resigned, but with that ever persistent pep still in his voice.
“Yes?”
“Maybe you’ll hear it again, someday.”
“…Hear what?” He absentmindedly asks as he aims his shots to the machine to his left. 2B chooses not to answer him, instead swinging at the machine in front of her. 9S figures it out anyways, as expected. His head perks up in recognition. “Wait, Nines?!”
2B had long since stopped keeping count of the number of times 9S had provoked an eye roll out of her, but the unrestrained delight—true and genuine—that rang out in his voice made her obliged to note this time in particular.
Still, she replies as she slices upward.
“It depends.”
She cuts downward and across.
“You still need to find something nice for me when we go shopping.”
Left. Pod aims to finish the job.
“Oh, that far in the future huh…” He says, backing away from the explosion from her kill, mildly disheartened. With 2B’s attention on the last enemy in their range, 9S shifts targets to aid her. His shots don’t miss, but they do delay by a fraction of a second. But before she can reprimand him and tell him to focus, his optimistic disposition rears its pleasant head again. “You’re stockpiling a lot of promises for our post-job plans, you know?”
She dodges an attack to the head.
“Is that a problem?”
“Not really,” he answers with the start of a laugh, but doesn’t finish. “It’s just, you make the future seem so envious right now. But…I guess that’s what we’re fighting for.” A grin surfaces, bright and sure. “Speaking of—“
9S moves in for the finishing strike, but 2B won’t let him do it alone.
So, she swings—right in tune with him.
It hits true.
The target comes apart at the seams, collapsing in a fiery burst.
A wave of exhilaration and pride in their strength filters through them. She’s stronger. They both are. It’s this kind of strength—this refinement of it—that they’ll need to foster to reach their intended…Their desired outcome. More accurate.
2B turns to her side, to 9S, naturally, as that is where her train of thought has led her. She is greeted with an offered fist, quiet but hopeful.
He is in a good mood.
She avoids his waiting gaze by looking ahead, deciding then and there, to comb through the wreckage immediately. Her body is prepped for movement, but before her legs can propel her so far, their knuckles meet—briefly—in a brush of soft fabric and tingling warmth.
And then, she carries herself past him.
As 2B starts picking up the usable scraps from the debris, and a light-footed 9S joins her without even being asked, she allows a picture to flash through her mind—her blankly holding a t-shirt, that 9S has clearly picked out, as her partner conveys encouragement with that carefree expression of his.
Another shot follows in the sequence—her face expressing I’m not wearing this any longer and as she’s part-way through with executing just that, 9S holds her frantically, reminding her that humans have changing rooms as he bows apologetically to their fellow "customers".
One last image is conjured to mind.
Compared to the other two, it’s much more nondescript, but she can safely assume it follows along chronologically. Their backs are turned to her, and while the colors indicate they have successfully discarded their uniforms, there’s only one point of focus that she can fixate on.
Unsurprising is the smile on 9S’ face, full of life and an ironic innocence like nothing could ever or has ever harmed him—a trait she wishes she could turn true.
Disorienting is the smile on her own face, small yet open as if on the cusp of blossoming—growing towards the light like the overgrown grass of the earth.
And that’s what pulls her back to reality, as she realizes she’s holding onto a thin blade of grass.
She stares at it for only a moment before she lets it slip from her fingers, to float away in the wind.
For a moment, she understands what 9S was talking about. The future does seem rather envious, when she stops and allows herself to indulge in how it could be framed.
Still, when 2B observes the present unfurling before them in the way 9S’s mouth curves, as natural as ever and in her own sense of repose that has made her near forget herself, in spite of their earlier miss with the rogue, she knows there’s something just as desirable here.
And maybe one day, she’ll be envious of these times.
But for now, she lives on, in beat. With him.
-End
Bonus:
“Nines, hand me that nut over there.”
“Mmhm; got it—wait...“
“Hm?”
“Y-You—You said it again!”
“Said what? I asked you to get me something.”
A groan compresses out of him, slow and pained. She doesn't even attempt to stop the smile that spreads as his head droops.
Then again, a sample of their future doesn’t have to be so far away either.
