As soon as he's within range, she hugs him.

"Hi! I missed you. I know I saw you last night and have been emailing you about spaceships all day but I missed you." She kisses him on the cheek. "Quick, grab your stuff and let's get on the road before I make the unwise decision of making out with you in the middle of the hall."

(But what if he wants to make out with her in the middle of the hall? It's probably wiser not to. Much wiser.) He grins and opens his locker as quick as he can (messing up once because, cute girl), and pulls out all of his stuff before slamming it shut a little too loud, wincing slightly at the noise. (No one else seems to have minded, only a few people turn their heads for a moment.) "Alright, let's go," he says to her. (They can make out by the bike racks like last time instead? They should probably not make out by the bike racks. Much.) 

Bounce bounce!! She pecks him on the cheek again (she may perhaps be having some difficulty refraining from making out with him in the middle of the hall) and darts off in a bikerackward direction.

John grins and refrains from the urge to kiss her back and follows, happy all the while. 

She reaches the bike racks a little ahead of him and sits down to get her skates on, beaming with general John-related glee.

John just has to undo his bike lock (and relock it) and put his helmet on, and is ready with a hand to help her up once she's all set up and ready to go. 

Up goeth Rosy!

...and then immediately kisses him!

(But that's what he was planning to do!)

(That's okay, it's fine.)

He leans into the kiss, using the hand on hers to pull her closer, and wrapping the other one around her into a deeper kiss. Kissing Rosy is so good. The best. (She's gonna be his. Also she's cute and hot and delightful and is very into him.) 

Oh, kisses. She missed kisses. She missed the way he holds her and the way he tastes and the way touching him makes her feel like she's floating. She loves him so much.

"...right," she says, eventually, "places, the going thereof. And talking about spaceships. On the way. Yes?"

"Yes, yes, right, yes," he agrees, also a little out of it. He really likes kissing her, and the way she folds into his grasp and feels it so passionately and everything. But also, going places. (And dealing with mom.) And spaceships! 

"So, spaceships," he says, once they're slightly underway. He's biking extra slowly so Rosy can keep up and talk to him at the same time (and she probably doesn't know the way yet, she's only been the once). It involves a little bit of weaving from side to side, but it's worth it regardless. "What else did you think of my, um, thoughts," he says. Hopefully she won't bring up the 'disgusting' bit again? (She's probably going to bring up the 'disgusting' bit again.) 

"So I definitely agree that I underexplored the question of who exactly you are and why exactly you're there! I like your idea that you're an agent for somebody big. And I love the idea of Business Lady Me having Spaceship Me run a demo of my piloting skills! ...I'm going to end up naming all these characters, aren't I. Anyway, yes, that's great, and I love you and your escaping parentheticals, and I think it's sweet to imagine you showing up prepared to negotiate the sale of a future spaceship and finding a girlfriend instead. An enslaved spaceship girlfriend. Who loves you."

"It is pretty cute," he admits, "but also, I just needed to figure out how all of these situations you describe came about. There's people in them, and the people have to do things for reasons! Or else it doesn't work and it's just, um, bad porn plots. And I'd much rather we have good porn plots" are these really words he is saying with his mouth. "Or at least, sensible porn plots. Ones where things make sense and don't take you out of the..." his brain has decided his mouth isn't allowed to say words any more. Fair of his brain really. He blushes and does a very bad job of hiding his face because he is piloting a bicycle at low speeds next to another person. 

"I mean, of course! Who wants substandard porn plots? Our porn should have the best worldbuilding and characterization—are you okay?"

"I think so?" he squeaks. "It's just really weird saying those words out loud, I think," his voice returning to normal. "But yeah. I'd much rather things, um, made sense instead of not making sense. If that makes sense." He winces. 

"I am one hundred percent with you there. What else, what else..." She opens up the email on her phone again. "Right! The question of why my showroom model has a vagina!"

"Yes, that," he says, blushing again. 

"So that's an interesting one because on the one hand I think it's hilarious and sociologically fascinating and potentially really hot to imagine you being left alone with my avatar specifically so you can fuck me, but on the other hand I think, hmm, how do I put this... I know I said 'horny Star Trek' but I think in my head this universe is not actually shaping up into horny Star Trek, it's shaping up into something where... uh, the porn plot was the friends we made along the way? Rather than being built into the premise? Even though, yes, there's a lot to be said about the possibility of our first meeting happening that way. I'm having the urge to nudge you suggestively but I'm afraid you'd fall off your bike. Consider yourself air-nudged. Anyway do you see what I mean?"

"I see what you mean," he says. "I could still see a non-porn-premise star trek universe where, well, where things are a lot worse and skeevy companies sell sex in order to sell things, and that's just how business is done?" Why is he just saying the words that come into his head. "It'd be like, um, instead of a spaceship, a robot maid, that also happen to be usable for sex even though most people don't. Or on a more corporate level, in addition to feeding the client's salesperson a fancy dinner and putting them up in a fancy hotel to convince him to buy their products, they also, um, give him a prostitute?" He's still saying them, help. "That's not necessarily porn premise just... the world is worse. But! You had a different idea, I assume?" Good, change the topic. "What's your different idea, for why your um, showroom model has a vagina?"

"Oh no do let's remember the idea that they give him a prostitute in his fancy hotel. That's a great one. I'm going to write that down."

She types a short note into her phone.

"But anyway, I think... hmm, how do I put this... the idea I'm having is approximately that, when they were trying to make an artificial mind that was human enough to do the things that humans can do, they were a bit lost on how exactly to accomplish that? So one of the things they tried was... literally giving me a human perspective on the world, by giving me this avatar that perceives and interacts with the world in a completely human way. And part of how humans interact with the world is by having genitals. I'm not sure they'd have necessarily made sure I used them—though they might have!—but they'd have made sure I had them, just to cover all the bases? But I'm betting that creating a robot with that kind of sensory fidelity and feedback would've been ruinously expensive for anyone without access to those juicy juicy military contractor space dollars—which ties back into why all the ships that come after are running copies of my personality! Because copying my personality once you've got it is effectively free, and growing another one from scratch would break the bank! Not to mention, they might be wary of the idea that I somehow managed to seduce you into stealing me using my very appealing human body, so even if they could make another avatar, they wouldn't want to for fear that my copies would use it to enact Feminine Wiles. I'm not sure about that part, it seems unnecessary and also kind of runs into the thing where they don't think of me as a real person but I bet someone somewhere is thinking it. I guess there are people in real life who don't entirely think women are real people but still think we use our magical vagina powers to get ahead in life."

John is slightly (mildly) (extremely) worried when she takes out her phone to type into while still skating, but she puts it away after a moment and nothing terrible happened. "So they just threw everything at the wall to see what would stick," he says, thinking it through. "Including your vagina. Just in case. And so the avatar really is more of a puppet for you to experience the world and try to learn to be human with, so they could make a sufficiently-human AI personality with it. And not only are they making copies of your personality because it's cheaper that way, they're also not making new ones because the body is incredibly expensive to produce." He thinks some more. "So all of your, um, fellow ships" not sister "have memories of having a human-shaped body before it was taken away from them when they were copied? And so they can actually reasonably imagine what it's like to kneel before me. And um. Other things." He blushes a little. "Hm. Possibly if that's the case, maybe it's easy enough to switch which one of you is doing the piloting? Of the body that is. So they can all get a turn now and then as I accidentally-or-however-we-imagine-the-plot-to-go build up my fleet?" 

"Oooh... I'd definitely want switching who links to the avatar to be at least its own episode's worth of plot, so to speak, but I'm very enthusiastic about it once that's established. I love the idea that we all know what we're missing, though, that's great, we're keeping that. Will you make a face if I write it down."

Why would he make a face about her writing that dow... oh. "Maybe, um, stop first?" he says, putting down a foot to brake and letting his bike skim to a halt. "I don't want you to hurt yourself. Pads and helmet or no." 

"Sure." She stops herself neatly and types for a bit and then looks at his email again. "Right, we need to figure out why she leaves us alone if it's not so you can try out the goods. And it won't be to try out the goods since you're not in line to buy the prototype, and future models won't have this feature. I wonder if she even does leave you alone with my avatar, actually? My avatar might be in another section of the ship at the time, so that you only get to touch me after we make a break for it. Am I just transparently making excuses for it to be the case that we don't have sex until you own me? Many things are possible." She puts her phone away and starts skating again.

"We could go back to the corporate espionage angle, maybe?" he says. "Or well, I mentioned it but discarded it for the um, showroom model thing. I could in fact be intending to steal the secrets and not actually buy the thing, maybe not actually sent by the company that I said I was from but a different one, faked credentials and all that, and I sneak back on board later because of some device I left on the ship that let me do that, and, surprise surprise, run into you." He pauses and thinks. "I think I might want to figure out more details about the shadowy government that made you or something as well as the company I'm pretending and the one I'm actually working for to figure out why I decide to run away with you, though," he says. "I have to make it make sense." 

"Understandable! I'm picturing the people who made me as, like, shady corporate dystopian Stark Industries with no Tony Stark to stop them from pursuing the siren lure of profits at all costs? Not literally the government themselves, but entangled with and beholden to the government? And you're presumably representing, or pretending to represent, a private buyer who's interested in a ship with my kind of capabilities not necessarily for military applications but for other money-making schemes. I was thinking earlier about part of our situation when we run away together being exploring new star systems, and now I'm imagining that this is a situation where exploring new star systems is potentially lucrative enough to pull down that kind of money, and you work for or pretend to work for a company that actually does that, so it's an obvious available road for us when we're on the run? And then we spend half our time scouting potentially habitable systems and half our time selling their locations to shady information brokers for spectacular amounts of money. I'm not sure what we use the money for. Lobbying for robot rights, maybe. And buying me lots of shiny upgrades. And showering you in every conceivable luxury. And sex toys. Okay, we have things to spend money on."