They nod. "Right. But in any case, we don't know that the guy is dead. He wasn't when he got in the ambulance."

"He might live, yeah."

Sigh.

"I don't think so. It should probably be me, though you can come if you like."

"I will if you want me to."

"It makes me feel happy and kinda smug to hear you say that. I don't mind either way." And of they go, waiting for her if she moves in a way that suggests she's coming.

"Smug? Seriously?" she asks, rolling to her feet.

"Yeah!" they say, holding the door.

"Why?"

"Well, when a person has standards as high as yours to like other people, signs that I'm one of them are most definitely cause for smugness, methinks."

"You may or may not have just killed a guy and you're being coerced into the Wards. I thought you might need emotional support. If all I'm doing is stroking your ego I'll just go build something instead."

"Oh, it's not really an ego thing, it's a... warm fuzzy kind of smug? I like you. And I like that you like me—or at least don't despise my presence. And in any case, yes, the emotional support is helping, I just found my stride again, you know? Talking helps. If I talk a lot, especially about what I'm thinking, it helps me sort it all out, understand myself better and what I'm feeling and deal with it in a less descructive and more coherent way."

They giggle. "Okay, have fun. And, hey, thank you. I know it looks like I'm all okay and maybe shrugging it off or something but you helped a lot and I'm really happy I met you." They pet the bot. "I'm keeping it."

"You can't keep me," says the bot. Lorica is already at her keyboard.

Giggle. Out they go.

Chevalier's waiting in his office.

Knock knock!

"Come in."

Glam does. "I'm in," they say without preamble.

"...is there a particular reason gender is not an optional field?"

"I didn't devise the form. Is there a problem?"

"Uh. Kinda, yes. Both a cape-problem and a secret-identity-problem."