Chapter Eleven

Lisa stretched as they sorted through the last of the morning’s files, her wings giving a slight flutter. “We’ve been at this for a while,” she said lightly, brushing dust from her hands. “What do you say we take a break? Maybe step out for a bit?”

Poul glanced at her, tilting his head. “Step out where?” He sounded nervous at the thought of leaving the apartment if he didn’t have to.

“Well,” she said, making her tone deliberately casual, “I was thinking…I don’t exactly have a wardrobe. My clothes right now consist of the sleepwear you gave me, this – ” She gestured to herself at the outfit she’d arrived in days ago. “And my jacket that’s hanging over by yours. I kind of will have to wash them at some point and I’ll need alternatives.”

His brow furrowed, and through the link, she sensed the faintest flicker of embarrassment. “You’re right. I didn’t think about that.”

She gave him a warm smile. “I didn’t expect you to. I don’t pack a bag when I travel somewhere new.” She hesitated, rubbing her chin. “Not sure I can, actually…although I can teleport with something light, my time travel ability is finicky enough without adding more than the clothes on my back.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Fair point. But finding somewhere to shop that won’t…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely.

“Trigger you?” she finished gently. “We managed with the market, didn’t we? There’s bound to be a place with human staff somewhere. We could go back to that café to do a search.”

Poul fidgeted. “Clothing shops are farther out than the markets…too far to walk. We’d have to take a t-transport…” His voice faltered as images of the robot-drawn buggies flashed in his mind.

Lisa was at his side in an instant, sensing his heartbeat quicken. “Easy, Poul. If it’s too much, it’s fine. I can wait.”

He leaned into her and took a deep breath. “No, th-there are robotless options. The self-set autotrikes.” She could sense he wanted to say more, so she waited for him to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he said, “They’re uncomfortable and fiddly to program, but…” She felt him squeeze her arm. “We’ll go.”

Lisa’s hearts swelled with pride. She kissed his forehead, and together they left the room, rinsed the dust from their hands, shook it from their clothes, and grabbed their jackets. Her wings faded into transparency as she pushed them through the slits in the back.

Hand-in-hand they left the apartment and Poul led her to the block with the transport depot. His steps faltered when he spotted the robot-pulled buggies, his breathing starting to quicken.

Immediately she stood in front of him and took his face in her hands. “Poul,” she said firmly. “Poul, look at me. Come on.” His eyes darted back and forth before finally fixing on hers. “That’s it,” she said. “Breathe. Focus on me. Tell me how this works…do we have to talk to someone to rent an autotrike?”

He grasped her arms and took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “We…we just have to go to one and…and program it. It’s a fixed rate for a day’s rental.”

“Okay. Where are they?” He started to turn his head but she stopped him. “No, you don’t need to look for them. Just tell me what they look like and I’ll bring us there. Or picture it in your mind and I’ll see.”

Poul tightened his grip on her arms to ground himself. “They’re three-wheeled carts with two seats and a control panel.”

Lisa nodded, holding his gaze. “All right. Let’s find one.” She gently let her hands slide down to grasp his, giving them a reassuring squeeze before releasing him. Keeping her movements purposeful and calm, she glanced around the depot. Amid the bustle of buggies and robots, her sharp eyes landed on a row of compact, three-wheeled vehicles with glossy panels and minimalistic designs. She pointed. “There. Are those them?”

Poul followed her gaze, nodding quickly. “Yes. That’s them.”

“Good,” she said brightly, slipping her arm through his. “Come on. We’ll take it slow.”

As they approached the autotrikes, Poul’s steps grew steadier. His grip on her arm was firm but no longer trembling. When they stopped beside one, he moved to the control panel and hesitated.

“I haven’t used one of these newer models,” he admitted, his voice low. “They…might be different.”

Lisa tilted her head and examined the sleek display. “Different how? What did the old ones do?”

“They had a basic keypad and coordinates entry system. These…” He gestured vaguely to the touch screen glowing with a user interface. “It’s unfamiliar.”

“It’s okay,” she said tenderly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

She leaned closer to the panel and tapped the screen lightly, which brought up a holographic interface. “Looks like it has a search function,” she observed. “What do we need? Clothing shops, preferably robot-free?”

Poul nodded, his hand hovering uncertainly over the panel. She sensed his hesitation and stepped in without missing a beat. “Let me,” she said gently, entering the search terms with swift taps. A small map projected itself into the air above the display, marking locations that fit their criteria.

“There,” she said, pointing to one of the blinking dots. “This one’s the closest. And look – ” She tapped the description. “Human staff only. No robots allowed.”

Poul’s posture relaxed slightly. “That’ll do,” he said quietly.

Lisa glanced at him, feeling the ripple of his emotions through their link. There was tension, but also determination. Pride filled her hearts as she tapped the destination, setting it as their route. The panel flashed with a request for payment, which Poul proffered without hesitation, then route confirmation, and the trike hummed to life.

“All set,” she said cheerfully, stepping back. “Shall we?”

Poul slid into the driver’s seat and reached over to help her to sit beside him. “It’s a bit cramped,” he muttered, adjusting the controls. “Not much legroom.”

Lisa settled in, pulling her transparent wings tighter against her back. “It’s not the legroom that’s…” She trailed off, shifting a little to try to find a comfortable position that wouldn’t pin her wings at odd angles. “Eh, I’ve squeezed into tighter spots for longer periods. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” he asked, concerned.

Smiling, she nodded and hooked her arm through his. “Let’s ride.”

The autotrike rolled forward with a smooth hum, navigating the streets with minimal input from Poul. Lisa leaned back, watching him as he kept a careful eye on their surroundings. She could feel his focus through their link, his mind working to stay calm and steady.

“See?” she said softly, resting her chin against his arm. “You’ve got this.”

He glanced at her, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “With you here, maybe.”

Her grin widened. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not going anywhere.”

Lisa took in the city as they rode, letting her gaze wander over the towering structures that stretched into the distance. Having the autotrike navigate their route rather than walking allowed her to absorb more of the surroundings as they traveled. It was a strange blend of polished modernity and sterile efficiency, with soaring buildings and smooth pathways designed for function over form. It was worlds apart from the places she’d known, yet there was something about it – perhaps the way it reflected Poul’s resilience – that made her appreciate it in her own way.

When they finally arrived at the shop, Lisa’s excitement was palpable. As she stepped out of the autotrike and stretched her transparent wings, she noticed a small display on the control panel flashing with an option labeled Secure Hold Mode. “What’s this?” she asked, tilting her head.

Poul leaned over to inspect it. “It’s a setting that locks the vehicle in place while it’s not in use. It keeps the autotrike reserved for us and disables the controls for anyone else.” He tapped the button, and the screen confirmed, Secure Hold Activated: Authorized Users Only.

Lisa gave an approving nod. “Neat. That’ll make sure no one takes off with it while we’re shopping.”

Poul nodded. “It’s standard for rentals like this, especially in crowded areas.” He hesitated before adding with a dry chuckle, “Not that anyone would want to steal this uncomfortable thing.”

Lisa gave him a playful nudge. “Hey, uncomfortable or not, it got us here. Be nice to it. All right…” She rubbed her hands together. “Let’s see what fashion disasters Kaldor City has to offer.”

Poul snorted as he adjusted his jacket. “Don’t expect much. You saw the news the other night – that ugly ‘robot-look’ getup the wealthy are wearing now.”

Lisa quirked her lips. “Well, although I have enough money to be considered ‘wealthy’, there’s no way in hell I’d be caught wearing something like that.”

“You do?”

She shrugged. “No idea where it comes from, but I do have a monetary system that allows me access to various tokens of exchange for different time periods and locations.” She rooted around her jacket pocket for a moment and pulled out a wallet. “It just appears when I need it, containing whatever is appropriate for where I am. I can even pay you back for the thermometers I squealed over the other day…”

Before Poul could protest, she added, “I make sure to give back, too. It wouldn’t sit right if I just took without balance. I donate to charities, help people who need it. It’s not limitless, but it’s enough to make a difference.”

He quickly shook his head and cupped her face in his hands. “No, Lisa. You’re doing so much for me…paying for a kitchen tool that we’ll both use – that will make some meals easier in the long run – is the least I can do.”

Lisa tucked her wallet back into her pocket and patted his hands, her smile warm but a little sheepish. “And you paid to rent the autotrike. Okay, but I insist on paying for the clothes. I’m not the type to let my partner cover my basic needs.”

Poul raised an eyebrow at her, his lips twitching with faint amusement. “ ‘Partner’?” he echoed softly.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping briefly before lifting to meet his, and shrugged. “I don’t know what else to call you.” She gestured vaguely. “I’ve only ever been linked like this to a few people. Most of them were romantic partners, and one was like family. But this…” She tapped a finger lightly against her chest, where she could feel his heart beating synchronous with her left. “It’s different. I do love you, Poul. Deeply. And you must feel the same about me otherwise we wouldn’t be linked.”

Poul’s expression softened, the faint smile lingering as he tilted his head. “ ‘Partner’,” he said again, testing the word. “That…fits. Doesn’t it?”

Lisa nodded slowly, relief flickering through her. “It fits,” she agreed. “Unless you can think of a better term?”

He shook his head, his hand lifting to rest lightly on her shoulder. “No. I think that’s exactly what we are.”

Her lips quirked into a grin, and she reached up to cover his hand with hers. “Good. Now let’s go tackle this wardrobe of mine.”

Poul chuckled quietly, stepping back to let her lead the way. “Lead on, partner.”

Lisa stepped into the shop with Poul close at her side. Her wings remained transparent, though she was conscious of their presence as they shifted slightly in response to the change in atmosphere. The shop was spacious and well-lit, racks of clothing arranged neatly with signs indicating various sections. It was quiet, the only other patrons a few scattered individuals browsing leisurely. A pleasant hum of soft music filled the air, and Lisa sensed Poul relax slightly at the lack of chaos.

“Not bad,” Lisa remarked, glancing around. “Much more inviting than I expected.”

Poul scanned the room with cautious eyes. “No robots in sight. That’s a good start.”

Lisa squeezed his hand lightly. “I would hope if they advertise ‘no robots allowed’, they mean it.”

As they made their way to the women’s section, Lisa’s gaze flickered over some of the items on display. Her lips twitched into a smile as she spotted a mannequin adorned in a cowl-style top with exaggerated folds and a golden sash. “That reminds me of Zilda’s outfit on Storm Mine Four,” she quipped, gesturing to it. “Remember that ridiculous headwear she wore?”

Poul’s expression softened with the faintest hint of amusement. “She did have a flair for the dramatic.”

“At least you didn’t wear something ridiculous on your head,” she quipped, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Uvanov and Toos, though…”

Poul’s lips twitched into a rare smile. “As the highest-ranked of the crew, it was expected they wear something to indicate that status.”

Lisa snorted. “Right…a Dimetrodon’s sail and a weird-looking crown…” She had to picture the prehistoric predator in her mind for Poul’s benefit. As she passed by a mannequin sporting a metallic, robot-inspired ensemble, she wrinkled her nose and turned quickly away. “Nope. Let’s move on.”

Poul followed her gaze and grimaced. “Thank you.”

The next rack featured more practical clothing, and Lisa began browsing with genuine interest. She brushed her fingers over the fabrics, focusing on the soft textures that reminded her of linen and silk. She sifted through the selection of blouses until she found a purple one with short sleeves, picking it up, checking the size, and holding it against herself in front of a mirror. Then she turned around to consult Poul for his opinion. “What do you think?” she asked. “Too plain?”

“Plain is good,” Poul said. “Simple suits you.”

She smiled at the subtle compliment and hung the blouse over her arm, then picked a few more of the same style in different shades of blue and purple. As she continued browsing, her gaze landed on a silk tube dress hanging at the edge of a display. It shimmered softly under the lights, its sleek, strapless-and-backless design practically daring her to try it.

“Oh, why not?” she murmured to herself, plucking it off the rack.

Poul arched an eyebrow as she held it up. “That doesn’t look like your style.”

“It’s not,” Lisa admitted, grinning and tossing the small collection of blouses to him to hold. “But it might be fun to try on, and it’s the only upper-body thing I can try on since these make things difficult.” Her transparent wings fluttered. “I’ll humor it.”

He folded the blouses over his arm and smirked faintly. “If anyone can make that work, it’s you.”

As she disappeared into the fitting room, Poul leaned against a pillar, his posture relaxing slightly now that the shop had proven to be as calm and robot-free as promised. He felt the faint ripple of amusement through their link moments before Lisa re-emerged.

“Well?” she asked, gesturing to herself in the silk dress. It fit her perfectly, the fabric draping elegantly over her form, with the back resting just beneath the base of her wings. The bodice was structured – firm enough to hold its shape without being restrictive, though she had the distinct feeling that one wrong move might test its limits. She looked stunning, but her expression was half amused, half exasperated. “I feel like I should be at some fancy party, not here in Kaldor City.”

Poul’s lips twitched into a smile as he took in the sight. “You’re right; it’s not your usual style. But…” He gave her an approving once-over, his tone genuine. “You do look lovely.”

Lisa arched a brow, giving him a sly grin. “Lovely or not, I’m still not wearing this. I prefer my formalwear to have sleeves or straps. One wrong move and, whoops, wardrobe malfunction.”

Poul let out a quiet laugh, his amusement seeping through their link. “Fair point. But it’s good to know you can pull off high society if you ever need to.”

She laughed, carefully slipping back into the fitting room. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Back to practical and sensible for me.”

When she returned in her usual attire, she handed the dress to a nearby attendant and took the blouses she’d chosen earlier from Poul’s arm. “Okay, tops are sorted. Now for something to cover the rest of me.”

Poul raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking. “Trousers, I assume?”

Lisa grinned. “You assume correctly.”        

They wandered to a nearby rack lined with neatly folded trousers in various styles and fabrics. Lisa sifted through the options, occasionally holding pairs up to her waist to check the length. Her transparent wings fluttered as she turned to the mirror to assess a dark pair of practical, straight-leg trousers. “These look sturdy enough for whatever Kaldor throws at me,” she mused.

Poul nodded approvingly. “Sturdy is good. You’ll need something comfortable, too, if you’re going to spend most of your time chasing after me.”

Lisa laughed softly, tossing the trousers over her arm. “You’re not that much trouble, Poul.”

He gave her a sidelong glance, amusement flickering through their link. “Says the person who’s had to talk me down from at least three panic attacks this week.”

“Hey,” Lisa said gently, placing a hand on his arm. “That’s not trouble. That’s just me looking out for you.”

Her words brought a faint smile to his lips, and she could sense the gratitude that swelled in his chest. She gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before turning back to the rack. “All right. A couple more pairs should do it.”

She wound up choosing trousers in black, dark gray, and dark blue, reasoning that darker colors would not show any dust or stains as easily as lighter ones. As they meandered through the shop, Lisa’s gaze landed on a nearby display of sleepwear. She tugged gently on Poul’s sleeve, halting their progress.

“Actually,” she mused, scanning the selection, “I should probably grab a couple more sets of pajamas. Much as I love the ones you gave me, I do need more than one pair.”

She ran her fingers over the soft fabrics, her eyes lighting up when she found a few comfortable-looking sets similar to the ones she already had – loose-fitting tops and drawstring pants in deep blues, soft grays, and rich purples. Holding up a dark blue one for his opinion, she asked, “What do you think? Acceptable for lounging around in?”

Poul’s lips twitched. “It looks comfortable.”

Lisa huffed, tossing the set over her arm along with a couple more in different colors. “That’s the idea.”

As she gathered her selections, she adjusted the growing pile against her hip, shifting them until they were somewhat manageable. Poul didn’t say a word, but she caught the faint flicker of amusement through their link. She narrowed her eyes playfully. “Go on. Say it.”

“Say what?” Poul replied, feigning innocence.

Lisa tilted her head. “You know I can hear you.”

His lips twitched again. “Then you already know I was just thinking how practical you are.”

She gave him a suspicious glance but let it slide, adjusting the pile once more before sighing in defeat. She could manage, but having her hands free would be easier. “Would you mind holding these for me again? I need my hands free.”

Poul nodded and took the sleepwear from her without hesitation, settling them atop the rest of the items he was already carrying. “Your shopping assistant is at your service,” he said with a bow.

Lisa patted his shoulder with an exaggeratedly grateful look. “What would I do without you?”

He shrugged. “You wouldn’t be here for one.”

“That’s true, but I’m glad I am.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad we’re together again.”

A warm feeling flooded through him. “As am I.”

Once she’d finished with the sleepwear, Lisa’s eyes flicked toward the next aisle, where a sign pointed toward the undergarment section. She tilted her head and gestured in that direction. “And since we’re here, I should probably grab a few essentials.”

Poul paused mid-step and cleared his throat. “Oh. Of course.” He pointed to a rack of scarves with a very deliberate motion. “I’ll…just be over here.”

Lisa couldn't help but grin at his sudden awkwardness. “Such a gentleman,” she teased, patting the clothes he was still holding for her and pecking his cheek. “Won’t be a moment.”

She disappeared into the aisles and perused the choices. She didn’t need anything fancy or flashy – it was just the necessities to wear underneath her regular clothes that no one but herself would see.

“All done.” She emerged a few minutes later with a small selection of neatly folded items tucked under her arm and a package of socks in one hand. “You can stop pretending to be fascinated by those scarves now.”

Poul glanced down at the scarf in his hand, realizing he’d been holding it upside down the entire time. He quickly set it back on the rack, his expression sheepish. “Did you find…what you needed?”

She nodded. “I think I’m good for now. We can go check out.”

They made their way to the register and she neatly piled her purchases on the counter. The clerk smiled politely as she rung them up and placed them in a reusable bag.

Another bag to add to the collection, Lisa quipped telepathically.

He smirked. One can never have too many reusable bags. They do eventually wear out from use.

She laughed silently as she handed over her payment, slipping her arm through his as she grabbed her bag and they left the shop. Once outside, Poul exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing. The trip had gone smoother than he expected – no sudden encounters, no lingering stares, no robots lurking at the edges of his awareness. It was just the two of them, moving through the city as though this was something normal.

It wasn’t normal. Not yet. But it wasn’t impossible, either.

As they stepped outside, their autotrike sat waiting, the screen still flashing its Secure Hold Mode status. Lisa sensed Poul’s faint relief through their link, though he wouldn’t have admitted to being worried about it.

She gave him a playful nudge. “See? Still here. No one wanted to steal it after all.”

Poul let out a quiet huff, tapping the panel to deactivate the lock. “That’s because it’s too uncomfortable.”

Lisa chuckled as she climbed into her seat, adjusting her wings with a little shift. “Uncomfortable or not, it did its job. And hey, I’d still take this over a robot-pulled buggy any day.”

Poul didn’t respond right away, but she felt his unease hovering at the edge of his thoughts – not overwhelming, not debilitating, just…there. A constant background hum, the way the city itself never seemed to sleep.

She didn’t need to say anything. He knew she was proud of him. But she said it anyway.

“You did really well today.”

Through their link, she felt the way those words settled over him, soft and reassuring. He let out a slow breath, eyes focused on the road ahead as he steered the autotrike back onto the street. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” he admitted.

Lisa grinned, leaning her head against his shoulder for a moment. “That’s what I like to hear.”

The autotrike carried them homeward, the city passing by in sleek, towering shapes. Lisa could feel Poul’s thoughts shifting – still cautious, still guarded, but lighter than before. He was getting there, one step at a time.

And as long as he had her, he wouldn’t have to do it alone.

End chapter eleven.

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