Daisy, give me your answer, do

Cygnus might have been a disgraced field agent, but that didn't forbid them from going out into the field of their own accord.

Cygnus teleported to the roof of the nearest ruined building. Porting to places they'd been before was easiest, but a short-range 'jump' teleport now and then was doable. Cygnus 'leapt' along the gap in the void-pathways -- not literally jumping. More like… folding the void-space to them, before the void had the chance to realise what Cygnus was doing and throw them back. Cygnus was briefly vulnerable, like a brachiating gibbon in the split second after it lets go of the branch behind and before it catches the branch in front. Cygnus made it up to the roof without incident. Disgraced they might have been, but not incompetent.

A few pigeons fluttered away, startled by the TV-unit suddenly materialising on their roof in a cloud of noisy black fog. Cygnus crouched at the edge of the roof, leaning on an HVAC vent, using the elevation to survey their surroundings. It was that time of day when the light faded from golden to dusky pinks, and the first of the stars emerged. Wouldn't be long before the optical radiation would be too dim and Cygnus would be able to see only by infra-red and by the void-pathway nodes projecting into layer zero (the only layer that non-TVs could see and navigate).

An evening mist was rolling in. Bit unusual. And potential cover for Skibidis on night patrols… but the wild vegetation reclaiming the area looked as though it had been undisturbed since these buildings were first abandoned. …There was an infra-red heat signature somewhere in there. Cygnus assumed it to be a beast, but it was at least human-sized. A deer? A small bear? …Big pile of weasels? The mass stirred slightly. The way it moved was… remarkably humanoid. It was warm flesh throughout, without the cold blockiness of a skibidi's bowl or the characteristic striations of heat of a techfolk body. …Could it be a human in need of rescue? It was a healthily warm organic, whatever species it was - a human good at assembling a shelter, perhaps.

Cygnus decided it was worth investigating. If it was an unskibbed human, the Alliance would offer sanctuary. If it did turn out to be a weird-arse bear - well, Cygnus was inedible to all mammals, and could port away from any danger. Cygnus slid off the roof and ported to the ground, teleporting reflexively as soon as they entered freefall. Off Cygnus went, into the wildflower-filled sprawl surrounding the heat source.

The mist thickened and descended, dulling Cygnus's vision as though someone had smeared a layer of vaseline on their screen. If Cygnus had been investigating anything else, they would have fucked it off and come back in the morning after the sun had burnt off the mist, but there was potentially a human here in need of assistance. …The mist thickened further still as Cygnus approached. This was getting bizarre… so was the feeling of increasing unease, giving way to dread.

"Get out, or this one shall lose its temper and bite."

Cygnus was greatly startled to come face to face with another TV-unit, of all people! …But their heat signature was organic, and they lacked the yes-I-live signal that all techfolk emitted.

The owner of the voice cracked open its screen - making Cygnus static-shriek in horror at what appeared to be a fellow TV's CRT imploding - until the sight resolved itself into a TV-headed creature with a glass-toothy maw. What Skibidi trickery was this?

…Could this actually be a mimic? Were they not a myth?

Whatever it was, it was clearly displeased and possibly capable of inflicting harm. Cygnus could always teleport away to safety… but they felt they would make a poor excuse for a diplomat if they didn't even try to smooth things over. Plus, this would surely offer some useful experience in inter-species communication.

"I apologise for my intrusion," Cygnus began, as the mimic snapped its teeth back together and re-formed its pseudo-screen. "I did not know this was anyone's home. I detected your heat-signature, and I was concerned that you might be a human in need of assistance."

"A before-times creature, from synchronicity? No, not this one. Poor things! …All gone."

"Not all," thought Cygnus, but decided it might not be wise to reveal that right now.

"Metal one braved my mists," said the mimic. "Metal one thought it would rescue a trapped creature. Kind and strong metal one." The mimic prowled around Cygnus as it spoke, apparently getting a good look at Cygnus from all angles and picking up their scent.

Cygnus observed back with equal fascination, swivelling their head to track the mimic. At such close range, it clearly wasn't techfolk, but it was amazing how well this organic lifeform approximated the shape of one, even down to flesh-folds resembling typical Alliance clothing and pores on its head resembling a TV's speaker-grilles. Its pseudo-screen even had bio-luminescence. However, Cygnus noticed, there were some little tells that marked the mimic as being non-techfolk: its hands were clawed, and the way it moved and carried itself wasn't quite right.

Cygnus noticed the curious shape of the mimic's… mouth? Mandibles? As well as the glassy-toothed horizontal split, the mimic had an additional vertical split separating the lower half of its pseudo-screen, giving it effectively three jaws. Cygnus wondered if this was in some way an attempt to mimic the Titan's additional cranial screens. Could this mimic have ever seen the Titan?

"This one is a bad host," said the mimic. "This one apologises for its lack of manners… This one has been so alone. …Pretty metal one. Metal one reminds of this one's mate." The mimic moved its face in closer to sniff at Cygnus. It appeared to approve.

Cygnus quickly synthesised the information the mimic had just provided - a necessary and practised skill in Cygnus's diplomatic work. The mimic had mentioned its mate, and the fact that it was 'so alone'. The poor mimic must be widowed. "I'm sorry to hear of your loss," said Cygnus. "They clearly meant a lot to you. …Might I know your name?"

"This one has no name," said the mimic. "It ate its name when its dear mate died." This must be a mourning custom with which Cygnus was unfamiliar. "May this one invite the Metal One into this one's den?"

Cygnus quickly weighed up their options. Their immediate inclination was to accept the mimic's offer of hospitality. This was a rare opportunity -- on a personal level, that made it worth doing purely for its own sake; tactically, it was worth doing for the possibility that befriending the mimic would lead to a source of information on skib activity in the area. "I can always teleport away to safety," Cygnus reasoned to themself. But… Cygnus was currently disgraced as a field agent for failing not one but two missions, one of them catastrophically, for lack of preparation. Was Cygnus really prepared for whatever might go wrong if the mimic turned hostile? It was true that there were no documented instances of mimics attacking techfolk first, but that didn't mean it would never happen…

Cygnus decided. The mimic had already had ample opportunity to attack, and seemed friendly enough, if a little strange. And Cygnus wasn't prey (at best, the mimic might be able to eat the ashy remains of whatever was in Cygnus's biofuel burner, but it wouldn't be worth killing a whole techfolk just to get at such un-nutritious scraps). "I would love to accept," said Cygnus.

Cygnus followed the mimic up a fire escape, hoping they weren't walking into a trap… The mimic had apparently claimed a rooftop pavilion as its den - Cygnus could probably have seen it from the rooftop they were on earlier. The den was cosily lined with soft materials strewn everywhere - pillows, duvets, sofa cushions and soft throws. It looked as though the mimic could have flopped down anywhere it liked and found itself curled up in a cosy bed. The mimic evidently had a favourite colour: assorted blue trinkets were displayed on any available space, like a bowerbird's collection. Pieces of blue glass were placed at windows to act as suncatchers.

Cygnus could see into another room, which was devoid of soft nesting material and instead housed the mimic's 'larder'. The floor was covered in tarps and bestrewn with remnants of stripped carcasses, including some pieces of skull that were undoubtedly skibidi in origin -- as well as the occasional processed food wrapper. (Cygnus wondered briefly how the mimic got the carcasses up there. Did it drag them up the fire escape like a leopard stashing its kills in a tree? Maybe it kept them in the main building's lower rooms and brought pieces up to eat in its den.)

The mimic paced around, looking for a choice spot to sit down. It found one to its satisfaction, and lay down with a squirm, much like a cat. Cygnus noticed the short leathery spines on the mimic's upper back; another feature that marked it as an imposter among techfolk. At the mimic's invitation, Cygnus sat nearby, following the mimic's example and pushing some cushions around to make a cosy nest.

The mimic traced a digit over the engraved '5022' on Cygnus's head-casing. "Fifty-thousand and twenty-two," it remarked. (Clearly, the mimic could read.)

"It's Fifty-Twenty-Two," said Cygnus. "That's how we verbalise our serials. Call me just Twenty-Two, unless you'd like to be formal."

The mimic purred. "Pretty Twenty-Two."

"Or you may call me Cygnus. That's my nickname among those who prefer word-names to serials."

"Its name is Sickness? Oh, it is unfortunate."

"Not quite." Cygnus enunciated their name once more. "It's another name for a swan."

"Pretty Swan." The mimic made a noise like a purr, and twitched its little horns - not unlike Cygnus's own dipole aerial.

"May I give you a nickname?" asked Cygnus. It would be inconvenient for this mimic to remain nameless.

The mimic seemed to be thinking about this. After a few seconds, it pointed at a bunch of little flowers in a blue glass vase; the same kind of wildflowers that grew in abundance in and around its den. "It is this one's favourite flower," said the mimic. "What is its name?"

Cygnus recalled the flower's name from their many walks with their human friend Phaeton, who liked to point out the various plants and insects and fungi. "I believe that's a daisy," said Cygnus (hoping Phaeton hadn't been making shit up again), "Though I couldn't tell you the exact species."

"Then this one's name is Daisy," said the mimic happily. "Thank you, Pretty Swan."

"You can call me 'Pretty Swan' if you like," thought Cygnus. Interesting - the mimic ("Daisy, not 'the mimic'," Cygnus reminded themself) used the pronoun 'you' for the first time. Until now, they'd called Cygnus 'it'. Maybe having a name again was making Daisy perk up and remember more of how to use words. "You're welcome, Daisy," said Cygnus, displaying a smiling emoticon.

"What are the slots for?" asked Daisy, pointing a claw at the space on Cygnus's wrist from where their blades protracted.

"That's where TVs keep our blades," Cygnus explained. Cygnus guessed that that TV-mimics' claws were a crude attempt to emulate these. "Would you like to see?"

"Daisy would."

"Be careful," Cygnus warned, and protracted one of their blades.

"Oh, a lovely thing," said Daisy approvingly. "Daisy envies. No wonder the Metal One was so unafraid." (Cygnus retracted the blade.) Daisy moved their face in close to Cygnus's, making short bass-y grunts of pleasure, like the happy-chuffs of a tiger. "You remind Daisy so much of my dear mate, Pretty Swan. You look so much alike… except you have the same horns as Daisy."

Cygnus presumed the comparison to Daisy's mate was a compliment. Thank you for your gracious words," said Cygnus. They inclined their head to better display their aerial. "Though a TV's 'horns' are called an 'aerial'. My aerial helps me pick up signals from other techfolk." It was interesting to Cygnus that Daisy's species had learned to mimic TVs so closely, but Daisy themself clearly had had little exposure to them.

"Might Daisy stroke the Pretty Swan's aerial?"

"Yes, Daisy might," Cygnus replied with another smiling emoticon. That would have been a very forward request coming from another techfolk that one had just met, but Daisy wasn't techfolk, not really. As Daisy lifted a clawed hand to pet Cygnus's aerial, Cygnus presumed Daisy would not object to reciprocation. "Daisy, might I pet your horns?" Cygnus asked.

Daisy's glowing pixel-mimicking chromatophores on their pseudo-screen resolved into a happy expression, and they inclined their head to allow Cygnus to touch. Cygnus scruffled Daisy's little aerial-like horns and the soft wrinkled skin between them, provoking some happy growls and a blissed-out expression on Daisy's pseudo-screen. Daisy in turn rubbed Cygnus's aerial, gently pulling at the base in a way that made Cygnus happily buzz their speakers. "Oh, is that nice?" asked Daisy.

"It is," said Cygnus. "It's helpful too. When you hold my aerial, you act as an amplifier for the signals-"

"…What happens if it does this?" interrupted Daisy, pushing the tip down on one of Cygnus's aerial-poles so that it concertina-ed short.

Cygnus gave a startled bark of static, their screen swimming with chaotic noise, and flinched away from the touch. "Oh!" exclaimed Cygnus. "Please always ask before doing that to a TV." Cygnus pulled their antenna out to its full length again, and their screen settled back down into its usual soft pattern of barely-visible snow.

"Daisy regrets. I am sorry, Pretty Swan," said Daisy. "Bad-mannered of me."

"Thank you," said Cygnus, offering a smiling emoticon. "I accept your apology-" Cygnus stopped speaking in surprise as Daisy leaned in and nuzzled the size of Cygnus's head, gently rubbing their teeth against the TV's head-casing. Cygnus reached up and cautiously petted Daisy's own head. Was Daisy displaying submissive behaviour by way of apology, and there was a return gesture Cygnus was expected to make? Daisy's nuzzling was friendly, but there was something melancholy behind it…

"Empty dens amplify sad thoughts. Warm bodies absorb them." Daisy closed their eyes. (Were they eyes or just a pattern of chromatophores, Cygnus wondered.) "Cygnus, Pretty Swan… I've been so alone. Would you… keep me company tonight?"

Cygnus spread their arms to invite a hug. Daisy looked confused by the gesture, their head tilted. Had Cygnus been too forward? Or did mimics not like to hug? Daisy delicately opened their jaws and politely lunged at Cygnus's nearest hand, grasping it in their glassy teeth, holding it firmly but not biting down hard. Cygnus was alarmed, but held firm - Daisy clearly wasn't trying to cause physical harm. Was this a challenge? A gesture of affection? Should Cygnus keep their hand still, or wriggle their fingers in protest to invite play?

Daisy probed Cygnus's hand curiously with their tongue. "Well, if that's allowed…" thought Cygnus, and gently stroked a digit over Daisy's tongue in return. Daisy purred, opening their mouth to invite Cygnus to continue properly. Cygnus stroked and rubbed Daisy's tongue, which seemed to be exactly what the mimic wanted. Cygnus used their other hand to cup the side of Daisy's head and rub their jaw-joint - Daisy delightedly leaned into the touch.

"Pretty Swan," said Daisy dreamily, once Cygnus withdrew their hand from Daisy's jaws. Daisy pushed Cygnus over and then flopped onto the TV-unit, purring.

"Be gentle," said Cygnus. "If you're not nice to me I shall simply disappear down the void-pathways."

"I'll be nice to you, my Pretty Swan," Daisy purred. They pressed themself into Cygnus some more, then exclaimed: "Oh, what do you have that smells so nice? Shouldn't hide away something so nice!"

There was that amazing ability organics had - they could detect things unseen just by the particles they left in the air. Cygnus wasn't sure what Daisy was smelling, though; Cygnus had only the standard equipment they carried with them in the field… It dawned on Cygnus; they did have something on them an organic might like. "Is it this you can smell?" Cygnus asked, opening their coat and retrieving a packaged snack from an inside pocket. Cygnus had meant to give it to Phaeton later, but Phaeton would surely approve of letting Daisy have it.

Which was just as well: Daisy clearly took Cygnus's question as an invitation to take the snack, and they gleefully snatched the packet and ripped it open. Daisy ate the contents in four snaps and two gulps. "Thank you, Pretty Swan," said Daisy. "You showed me something nice… May I show you something nice?" Daisy purred lasciviously.

Cygnus guessed where Daisy was going with this… Daisy made quiet grunts of anticipation as they waited for Cygnus's answer. "You may show me," replied Cygnus. They had to admit, their curiosity was piqued.

"Here's where I keep it, when I have it," said Daisy, pointing at their null-crotch.

"Does it…retract when not in use?" asked Cygnus.

"…Would you like to find out?" asked Daisy. "If you can get it excited, you'll see it."

Cygnus moved a hand near Daisy's crotch. "Will you guide my hand?"

Daisy wordlessly took Cygnus's hand and pushed it into Daisy's mound, letting Cygnus feel the flesh twitch and softly conform to Cygnus's fingers. "You guide me," said Daisy. "I can go either way, as you please… Show me, push me, rub me the way you'd like me to be… Mold me to your liking. For you, Pretty Swan, I can be anything you want."

Could Daisy really do as they said they could? Cygnus stalled for time by idly caressing Daisy's crotch, which was getting softer and warmer and more pliable under Cygnus's touch… Cygnus realised they had a shape in mind.

Cygnus, shyly at first, pressed their fingers gently down where they wanted Daisy to enfold, and teased the flesh outwards where they wanted Daisy to fill out. Cygnus 'sculpted' Daisy's flesh, a crude fascimile taking shape at first, becoming more and more refined and precise as Daisy picked up on what shape Cygnus was targeting, and as the pair became more used to the one's touch and the other's reciprocating movements.

"So that is how you like it," remarked Daisy, admiring their new temporary genital.

"…It's what I know best," said Cygnus. "I have a very dear friend… I hope you don't mind that I made your junk into a copy of theirs. If you'll let me, I'll… show you how they like to be touched."

Daisy purred. "Show me what you know, Pretty Swan."

Cygnus obliged. They stroked and caressed Daisy's newly-formed genital, warm and fresh like bread from the oven. Daisy arched and made pleased clucking sounds as Cygnus ramped up their touch and began kneading Daisy's glans in earnest.

"Oh, Cygnus, Pretty Swan, your friend is lucky… you have a good touch… But what about you, pretty one? Don't you want that pleasure for yourself?" Before Cygnus could answer, Daisy reached for Cygnus's crotch… Daisy caressed between Cygnus's legs, then clucked in surprise at finding nothing but smooth blank plating. "Is it… shy?" asked Daisy. "Too cold in Daisy's den?"

"I have nothing there," explained Cygnus. "Techfolk anatomy is… not one-to-one with organics."

"Oh, Daisy is curious now," said Daisy. Their genital collapsed back into a null-crotch, like a timelapse of an ice sculpture melting. "Will you show me how to pleasure you, Pretty Swan?"

Cygnus unbuttoned their pea coat, jacket and shirt, to reveal the charging port on their sternum, then pulled back the cover to expose its twin parallel sockets. "This is where TVs fuck," explained Cygnus, pointing to their charging port. "We push our blades into each other's charging ports, and that sends electrical current over our shells."

"…Might I touch?" asked Daisy. They held up their claws, which even now flowed like meltwater into long and strong points. "I'll be gentle."

"You may touch," said Cygnus, "…And…you can be a little less gentle if you'd like - our charging ports are very robust. They're meant to take all sorts of…inputs-" Cygnus's words were cut off in surprise as Daisy pushed their claws into Cygnus's charging port, lengthening and strengthening their claw-tips and finding more and more of Cygnus's connector-points inside. Cygnus emitted a delighted rumbling buzz from their speakers - Daisy echoed it with a pleased growl.

Daisy withdrew their claws (raking them against the connector-points one last time), then - to Cygnus's surprise - pushed Cygnus down and straddled them while re-forming their own null-crotch into a genital of sorts; this time a branching morass of tendrils. Daisy sat on Cygnus's charging port, pushing their erupting mass of tendrils home into the sockets. Cygnus emitted a static squawk of surprise at this treatment.

"Too much for you, Metal One?" asked Daisy, clenching their tendrils and powerfully squeezing the septum between the parallel sockets.

"Continue…" Cygnus thought deliriously, too dazed to vocalise it. But they needed to tell Daisy 'don't stop' somehow… Cygnus made an undignified squeak of high static frequencies. Daisy cocked their head curiously.

Cygnus broadcast their consent, their desire… then realised that of course, Daisy was still an organic, and couldn't perceive transmissions. Cygnus dissolved into the techfolk equivalent of a desperate primal cry, their screen blazing purple, issuing a command-beam loaded with the message "Continue." Cygnus immediately cringed with embarrassment at using the command-beam on a non-enemy without asking first. Luckily, Daisy seemed very amused by this.

"Oh, you absolutely want Daisy to continue, don't you, Pretty Swan?" crooned Daisy.

"Ohh… yes…" Cygnus finally managed to speak. "That feels… oh, it feels so nice." Cygnus internally cringed again. Nice? Was that the best they could come up with? Cygnus's eloquence left them, as Daisy wetly fucked Cygnus's charging port, their weight pressing down and making Cygnus's exo-plating flex delightfully. It was probably a bad idea letting that much moisture into their charging port, but Cygnus was too lustfully dazed and happy to care. The way Daisy's morphing genital filled the entire socket, probing right into all the corners, was so good… it didn't cause the electric current flow that a fellow TV's blades would, but the sensation and pressure was delicious in its own way, and so warm. Cygnus writhed into the sensation, and then squeaked in surprise as Daisy pushed down further and let their extra tendrils suction onto Cygnus's plating.

"You're nice and warm inside," said Daisy approvingly. "Daisy was afraid Metal One would be cold and horrid. I am happy to be wrong."

Cygnus purred their speakers at the compliment.

"Going to just lie there?" asked Daisy. "Too horny to reciprocate, Pretty Swan? Daisy's horny… Daisy would like a bit of attention in return."

"…Can we stop for a bit?" asked Cygnus. "And maybe try something else?" Cygnus was enjoying the feeling, but wasn't sure it would be enough to make them cum. And now that they'd been brought back down to reality a bit, Cygnus was aware of how slimy their charging port was getting. (Right on cue, their auto-diagnostics sent an alert that there was moisture accumulating in the sockets.) "This is lovely, but I shouldn't let my charging port get so wet."

Daisy pulled out, their tendrils elegantly retracting back into a null-mound. It was quite a hypnotic sight.

Cygnus took stock of their charging port - they'd need to treat it with desiccant pellets later. Or maybe the slime would dry to a rind and Cygnus could scrape it out? (Phaeton would surely know what to do.)

"Oh, have I endangered you, Pretty Swan? Can you drink the lightning in this state?" Daisy must have realised the implications of Cygnus not having a functioning charging port.

"Not very well," replied Cygnus. "But do not worry about me; I have a backup." Cygnus displayed a reassuring smiling emoticon, then pulled back the cover on their biofuel burner. (Daisy took the opportunity to reach out to stroke around the rim with a finger.) "We techfolk can break down organic matter and get energy this way, by using our Seebeck generators to harvest the heat," explained Cygnus. "It's not as efficient as plugging in and charging with electricity, but it'll do."

Daisy quickly withdrew their digit once Cygnus said the words 'break down organic matter'.

"It's safe to touch, don't worry," said Cygnus. "You could put your fingers inside without harm. This is just the hopper," Cygnus said, indicating the entrance. "The actual burner is deep inside me."

Daisy seemed to be contemplating this, their head slightly cocked curiously. "Can Daisy put some organic matter in? Give you some energy for your journey home?"

"It would be appreciated," said Cygnus, "But please don't deplete your food stores on my account-"

Cygnus was stunned into silence by Daisy re-forming their blank crotch into a new genital - this time, unmistakably a big fat cock. Daisy growled lustily at Cygnus as they flexed their multi-part jaws salaciously, and began stroking themself off to bring their newly-formed cock up to full mast. "I've been lonely for quite a long time, Pretty Swan," said Daisy, "And I'm a little backed up." Daisy pushed their cock into Cygnus's biofuel burner, and began thrusting against its smooth walls. "Oh, this makes a much better orifice," said Daisy admiringly. They quivered, then thrust once more, apparently pleased by the soft creaks that came from Cygnus's plating.

Cygnus chirped in surprise - this was a new sensation, and not unwelcome. Cygnus doubted they'd cum from this - the fuel hopper wasn't much of an erogenous zone, after all - but they couldn't deny that the sight and sounds of Daisy enjoying themself were delightful. Cygnus rallied their thoughts and remembered that Daisy had gently rebuked them for just lying there… Cygnus cautiously reached in to hold Daisy's hips and guide their thrusts.

"Ohh, Cygnus, Pretty Swan…" Daisy growled with pleasure, "Very good." Daisy lowered their head closer to Cygnus's and gave the TV-unit's screen a friendly lick. Cygnus reflexively degaussed their screen, then shivered at how warm that made their cathode ray. Daisy clucked in laughter at the funny noise of the degausser and at Cygnus's movement.

Cygnus found themself beginning to enjoy this feeling… It wouldn't quite be enough to bring Cygnus to completion, but it was enjoyable in its own way. Daisy's warm weight was making their plating creak pleasantly, and Daisy certainly shared Phaeton's lack of bashfulness. It occurred to Cygnus that both of them were effectively being reminded of their favourite partners, and it made Cygnus wonder if that was all that this would ever be, or if they might one day want to fuck each other for its own sake…

Daisy came, mightily, squirting pulse after pulse of cum into Cygnus's fuel-burner.

Cygnus chirped in surprise at the sensation - they didn't normally bother to use the fuel burner, being that they spent most of their time at either the TV Base or in another Alliance base on business, where there was always access to the electrical grid. Cygnus's fuel receptor had never been so full or heavy before, the surrounding endo-struts flexing a little from the weight of it. Daisy's cum was so thick and dense!

Daisy's keening and panting wound up to a close, then finished with a delighted dreamy sigh as Daisy deposited the last few drips of their cum. (Just as well. Cygnus's auto-diagnostic pinged an alert that the biofuel hopper was nearing capacity.) Daisy gazed down fondly at Cygnus as they shrunk and retracted their cock back into its null default, without moving their hips off Cygnus. "Oh, Pretty Swan," Daisy said simply. They finally dismounted from Cygnus and lay next to the TV-unit, purring softly.

Cygnus made a static sound like a wheeze. Their exo-plating creaked a little as it re-settled from being pushed down by Daisy's weight, and their biofuel burner began churning its payload of cum. Cygnus closed the covers on their fuel hopper and their charging port and began re-doing their buttons.

"Thank you, Cygnus," said Daisy. "You've done this one a lot of good. Daisy is very happy." Daisy stroked Cygnus's front, where the two energy inputs lived. "Such a pretty one you are. So kind, so gentle." (Cygnus couldn't help emitting a purr of static at that.) "Rest here until morning, if you'd like."

Cygnus patted Daisy's hand that was idly stroking their front. "I would like."