"I'm only joking," he said, an excess of vodka rendering his expression cartoonishly worried. "I wouldn't actually make you ride the robot."
"I'm sure you wouldn't, Doctor Robolove."
"I wouldn't!" He moved her glass from its perilous perch and set it on the table. "Besides," he added, looking at her from the corner of his eye and attempting to gauge her mood. "I'd be worried that you'd rewire it."
"I'd rewire it so it shut down at the sound of your belt being unbuckled."
"You wouldn't. You would, would you? No, you would. Yes."
"I will if you don't stop saying wouldn't, Drunkcade." She grinned. "You can apologise by getting me a drink. A cold sarsaparilla, please. All this talk of robots makes me want to sober up for a bit."
He drunkenly patted her knee, satisfied that she wasn't about to punch him in the next few minutes. An attentive cocktail waitress materialised at his elbow and took his order, happily chirruping that James insisted that it was on the house. Drinks were promptly served, and Veronica silently thanked the idiot Garret sibling for having the foresight to include a bowl of roasted pinyon nuts that were heavy on the salt and spice.
"So," she said, chasing her straw around the edge of her glass of sarsaparilla with her tongue. She needed something to distract Arcade with that didn't involve him goading her into seeing how many nuts she could toss in the sir and catch in her mouth, and given that he had some information that she might need in the immediate future… "So," she started again. "Tell me all about Julie."
"I thought you said that it would take away the fun of finding out for yourself."
"Aww, Arcade." She fluttered her lashes. "You know I just can't say no to your brotherly dating advice. It's the perfect guide. I just need to do the opposite of whatever you say."
The tactic worked. He spoke and spoke, she gained some insights about Julie - some interesting, some helpful, and some of them enough to make her blush scarlet - and Arcade got drunker and drunker as she sobered up. When he gestured too lavishly and accidentally dropped his glass, she decided that it was now or never.
"Arcade? Where did James say your, uh, usual room was?"
"Third from the stairca-- hey. Hey." He pushed his glasses back up his nose with a shaky finger. "Hey."
"Stop saying hey, drunky."
"Really? You're actually gonna…" He waved his hands in the air, and it took Veronica a moment to realise that he making a shape that vaguely approximated FISTO's body panels.
"Don't you dare ask if you can watch." She got halfway out of her chair and paused. "How long does it take you to, uh. You know. How long does it take you to conduct an appreciation session?"
"That's very personal, isn't it? I don't ask you how long it takes you to attend your personal affairs."
She tried not to laugh at the fact that his cheeks were flushing redder than the time Cass had accidentally walked in on Raul in the bathroom and then told them all about the colours, shape and dimensions of his ghoulified backside in lurid detail.
"Five minutes? Two minutes?"
"Fifteen minutes if it's been a while. An hour usually." He set his jaw and stared at her as if daring her to her to challenge his stamina.
"Relax," she said mildly, biting back a grin. "You just sit here and watch the entertainment. Personal engineering, right? I'll be back in an hour."
She stopped by the bar on her way to the staircase to ask for a toolbox, and trued to ignore the way James Garret's eyes lit up with delight. She took the stairs two at a time, the toolbox bumping heavy against her thigh, and when she reached FISTO's door she took a deep breath and pushed it open.
"Greetings. I am programmed for your pleasure."
"Oh no you're not," she muttered, kicking the door shut and dropping the toolbox on a dressing table. "Mr FISTO, I presume? Do you respond to voice commands?"
"I am fully voice activated."
"Wonderful!" Veronica pushed back her hood and scuffed a hand through her hair, grinning in the dim bedroom light. "In that case please present your rear access panel, Mr FISTO."
Veronica/FISTO Arcade/FISTO, 'Libenter Hoc Facio' 3/4
"I'm sure you wouldn't, Doctor Robolove."
"I wouldn't!" He moved her glass from its perilous perch and set it on the table. "Besides," he added, looking at her from the corner of his eye and attempting to gauge her mood. "I'd be worried that you'd rewire it."
"I'd rewire it so it shut down at the sound of your belt being unbuckled."
"You wouldn't. You would, would you? No, you would. Yes."
"I will if you don't stop saying wouldn't, Drunkcade." She grinned. "You can apologise by getting me a drink. A cold sarsaparilla, please. All this talk of robots makes me want to sober up for a bit."
He drunkenly patted her knee, satisfied that she wasn't about to punch him in the next few minutes. An attentive cocktail waitress materialised at his elbow and took his order, happily chirruping that James insisted that it was on the house. Drinks were promptly served, and Veronica silently thanked the idiot Garret sibling for having the foresight to include a bowl of roasted pinyon nuts that were heavy on the salt and spice.
"So," she said, chasing her straw around the edge of her glass of sarsaparilla with her tongue. She needed something to distract Arcade with that didn't involve him goading her into seeing how many nuts she could toss in the sir and catch in her mouth, and given that he had some information that she might need in the immediate future… "So," she started again. "Tell me all about Julie."
"I thought you said that it would take away the fun of finding out for yourself."
"Aww, Arcade." She fluttered her lashes. "You know I just can't say no to your brotherly dating advice. It's the perfect guide. I just need to do the opposite of whatever you say."
The tactic worked. He spoke and spoke, she gained some insights about Julie - some interesting, some helpful, and some of them enough to make her blush scarlet - and Arcade got drunker and drunker as she sobered up. When he gestured too lavishly and accidentally dropped his glass, she decided that it was now or never.
"Arcade? Where did James say your, uh, usual room was?"
"Third from the stairca-- hey. Hey." He pushed his glasses back up his nose with a shaky finger. "Hey."
"Stop saying hey, drunky."
"Really? You're actually gonna…" He waved his hands in the air, and it took Veronica a moment to realise that he making a shape that vaguely approximated FISTO's body panels.
"Don't you dare ask if you can watch." She got halfway out of her chair and paused. "How long does it take you to, uh. You know. How long does it take you to conduct an appreciation session?"
"That's very personal, isn't it? I don't ask you how long it takes you to attend your personal affairs."
She tried not to laugh at the fact that his cheeks were flushing redder than the time Cass had accidentally walked in on Raul in the bathroom and then told them all about the colours, shape and dimensions of his ghoulified backside in lurid detail.
"Five minutes? Two minutes?"
"Fifteen minutes if it's been a while. An hour usually." He set his jaw and stared at her as if daring her to her to challenge his stamina.
"Relax," she said mildly, biting back a grin. "You just sit here and watch the entertainment. Personal engineering, right? I'll be back in an hour."
She stopped by the bar on her way to the staircase to ask for a toolbox, and trued to ignore the way James Garret's eyes lit up with delight. She took the stairs two at a time, the toolbox bumping heavy against her thigh, and when she reached FISTO's door she took a deep breath and pushed it open.
"Greetings. I am programmed for your pleasure."
"Oh no you're not," she muttered, kicking the door shut and dropping the toolbox on a dressing table. "Mr FISTO, I presume? Do you respond to voice commands?"
"I am fully voice activated."
"Wonderful!" Veronica pushed back her hood and scuffed a hand through her hair, grinning in the dim bedroom light. "In that case please present your rear access panel, Mr FISTO."
---