We were going to have to move. I was annoyed.

Really, those two facts more or less defined the next few days of my life after Amelia decided to inform me that she was starting a clinic.

It wasn't even about the danger, the unnecessary risks, or my worries about Amelia's father. It was… well, I'd gotten very fond of the apartment we'd shared for so long. It was comfortable in that way that childhood homes were supposed to be comfortable. All lived-in, and familiar, and just ineffably ours.

I didn't have a ton of experience with that sort of stuff, but my shitty slum apartment had felt like that before I was forced to abandon it. Even if someone had offered me an objectively better place back then, I'd have been reluctant to take them up on the offer.

The same thing was happening now, except it was even worse. This wasn't an empty, bitter home where I could only cling to the memories of my mother. This was the home Amelia and I had escaped to for safety. Where we'd gotten to know one another, and even started our relationship in.

So, I was maybe a little grumpy when Amelia declared we'd be moving to a place above her future clinic because it was 'unnecessarily risky' to travel back and forth between the two.

Apparently, if we did get made and had to abandon the clinic in a hurry, the plan was to retreat back to the apartment. As such, having it also compromised would be unacceptable.

"Oh, stop being such a baby!" Amelia groused in my direction. "I can see you pouting. I thought we worked this out last night!"

"No." I snatched most of the boxes she'd been trying to balance precariously on top of the one I'd initially handed to her. "Last night, you got me to admit that it made sense to have a place we can fall back to. I never agreed to stop pouting."

I wanted to say my voice was icy. It wasn't, but it also wasn't whiny, thank you very much!

Amelia sighed as she went out first. Stepping through the door was a bit tricky with all those boxes blocking my vision, but I worked it out.

"We'll be back," she assured me. "Eventually. I'm not sure why you're taking this whole thing so hard."

"Because I like this place, okay?"

"I mean, sure, I understand that, but still…"

"You're not sad we're leaving?" I asked, maybe a touch sharply, as we ventured into the elevator.

"Nope! As I said, we'll come back eventually. Besides, while I do love it, 'cause a whole bunch of nice stuff happened in there, I've got you right here with me! You're the reason I like the apartment in the first place, so I figure I'll love our new place, too."

There was a teasing edge to her voice, but the look she was giving me more than communicated that she was sincere.

That was wholly unfair, because how was I supposed to stay mad?!

I still tried for 'upset', of course, though I couldn't quite swing it with the edge of a smile infecting my tone. "Fine! Did you even check what our next apartment looks like?"

"Mmm, it's a very nice, cozy place. Two bedrooms, though we obviously only need one. A spacious living room, pretty fancy bathroom… I mean, the kitchen's admittedly small, but, um…"

I laughed. Yeah, that wasn't a major loss. We occasionally tried cooking, because it was fun to mess around with what we could come up with, but it was really more us being silly and enjoying each other's company than serious culinary attempts.

I'd become completely spoiled by delivery apps, and she was funding my addiction remorselessly.

"Yeah, I get that. No big loss. So… the clinic itself? Is it everything you wanted?"

Amelia's face lit up like the sun. "It's great! Perfect, actually. Conveniently designed, well-equipped, and quite comfy. My father would never approve." She giggled the same way she always did when thinking about doing something that would annoy her father. It was a delightful mix of mischievous and murderous.

"I mean, I heard you list only nice things so far…"

"Exactly. My father required things to be at least moderately uncomfortable at all times. I think that if he doesn't have something to complain or be upset about, he'll run out of the spite that's powering his body and die."

"So… if we just stealthily hire an interior designer for him, we could win right now?"

Amelia scoffed, but the way her lips twitched into a smile suggested she was amused. Ever so slowly, I was successfully turning mentions of her father into a more casual or mocking thing, instead of something that left her with stiff shoulders and a dampened attitude. I was thrilled to see it.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

We continued to lightly bicker and speculate as we travelled down to the parking level, then made our way to our private space. In addition to the bike that had found a new home with us, there was a black moving van with tinted windows. Another favor from Yuri, hired through however many layers of people owing other people favors.

I wasn't sure how I felt about relying on him so heavily, to be honest. On the one hand, I'd never had that kind of unquestionable support pointed even vaguely my way, ever. The Kittens had been great, and they'd helped me out a lot, but to the same extent that Yuri was helping us now? Nah.

It made me feel like… well, like I had someone wholeheartedly backing me up, never mind that Yuri was focused on Amelia.

It also made me feel inadequate and like I was taking advantage of the man. Because really, I was literally carrying around a spine in my back that he had helped us get. Not to mention all the other bones, and the muscles, which didn't make things easier.

It was a mess of feelings and impressions I'd rather not deal with.

Regardless of how I felt on the subject of Yuri, and in spite of the fact that I still felt a little bad about our move, the work continued. Bit by bit, our entire life in the apartment was packed up, carried down, and deposited into the van.

We struggled to get the motorcycle inside as well. But since I had neither put aside the time to hack it myself, nor sent my shadow pal in to do the work for me, it was still a very pretty chunk of metal and little else.

I saw the way Amelia kept looking at it, though. Her eyes lit up with childish wonder, every time. I could tell she was tempted to get on top of it just to imagine driving it around.

I stifled a laugh and resolved to put 'sorting out the motorcycle' higher up on my list of priorities.

Eventually, though, we were done. The last box was out of the apartment. The last item had been thrown haphazardly into the back of the van. So, there was no more delaying and lingering in my bad vibes.

To my surprise, the ride to our new living setup was actually kind of… enjoyable.

The general area around our apartment's megabuilding featured high traffic and plenty of pedestrians. It was a commercial and residential area both, which meant it was impossible to avoid people if you wanted to go outside.

Whether or not I'd gotten better at suppressing my odd Stalker instincts, that made me uncomfortable. I would have felt that way even before I got mixed up with eldritch cybernetics. And that was without adding the risk of spies or whoever else Amelia's father might hire.

So, to move away from the more bustling parts of the district towards the wall separating the inner and middle districts was a huge relief.

Funnily enough, neither of us drove the van there.

It had the auto-drive option, so we just let it do its thing and held hands while people-watching. Amelia had a thing for pointing out the most ridiculous haircuts that passed us, which… I mean, she had a lot of those to pick from.

Sure, the inner city district residents had more money, more shops, and much more freedom. But they seemed to compensate for these benefits by doing silly things to their bodies.

Their colorful, ridiculous hair made them look like they were advertisements trying really hard to catch our attention. Really, why in the world did someone think styling their hair into a giant, pointy pyramid and dyeing it red, purple, and orange was a good idea?

The thing was, it wasn't something I'd pay attention to on my own.

I would focus on the way someone moved. Where their eyes were darting. How they held themselves in relation to other pedestrians. How likely they were to be concealing weapons in their pockets. Their eyes practically burned against my skin, too, which occupied most of my attention.

It took Amelia pointing out their ridiculousness to make me pause, look, and then snicker along with her. All my tension, both Stalker and human, slowly faded into the background. The whole thing left a giddy warmth inside my chest that made it hard for me to take my eyes off of my girlfriend, much to her protests that I was missing things outside of the car.

Things didn't quite devolve into a very awkward make-out session. Seeing as we were both strapped down to our seats, it wouldn't have been easy to pull it off. But it was a close thing.

A very close thing.

We were so busy staring hungrily into each other's eyes that we missed the neighborhood we were in, right up until the van started to slow down and turn into a parking lot. The sudden shift in speed alerted me just enough to make me look around. My insides froze when my eyes landed on a familiar building.

The mercs' HQ was exactly the way it looked in all the pictures.

It was an older, four-story building that sat kind of squat in its lot. The walls weren't the flimsier 'glass and metal' arrangements of modern architectural whimsy. They were older and sturdier, and offered far, far fewer chances to get a glimpse of the building's insides.

Even the windows that did exist were carefully decked out in one-way mirror glass, reflecting the outside world without ever letting anyone peer inside. At least they hadn't gone so far as to barricade the windows off. That would have made things significantly harder if we ever had to figure out alternative entry points into their HQ.

The building didn't really stand out much. Fading beige wasn't a particularly appealing color. Though the walls were sturdy, the brick and insta-crete solution they were made of was both a little crumbly and less impressive than most of the other buildings around. The cameras my eyes managed to pick out were numerous, yes, but not as numerous as they could have been.

Basically, the whole affair was… drab.

When I'd first learned about these mercs, I'd assumed they would have an impressive base and state-of-the-art equipment. They did have the latter, admittedly. The photos had shown that off effectively enough.

Still, they clearly didn't care much about the state of their building. Or maybe their budget wasn't large enough to cover both comfortable accommodations and new toys that could save their lives on missions. That was ironic, considering they were doing horrid evil shit for Amelia's father. The least they could have done was argue for more competitive rates.

My sudden onset of nerves didn't detract from my ability to appreciate the building our van was parking next to, though.

In direct opposition to the merc HQ, our new home had almost too much character.

The building was a mix of insta-crete and metal highlights. The entire wall that faced the parking lot had been converted into a massive mural, depicting some kind of massive entity snaking through the cosmos and snatching up stars to devour.

My eye twitched before I slowly panned my gaze over to a sheepish Amelia.

"Um… I didn't know?"

"Try again. Don't tell me your uncle neglected to send you pics of the available real estate."

"I thought it was funny?"

I blew out a loud, slow breath, keeping my eyes trained on the amused warm orbs of my Amelia. Orbs that were dancing with unconcealed mischief.

"Your uncle's right. You're a fucking menace."

"Oi!"

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