Aberrant: 200X - Clearing the Air

[Vixen]

The floor of the balcony stayed beneath her feet. It didn't have to.

She stood, quietly looking out over Addis Ababa's arcology. The city was many things and brought many words to mind, but the first word it brought to mind was 'new.' It was a fitting word, because 'nova' also meat 'new' and the city's renewal - indeed, the entire country's - was traced back to people like her.

She hated the phrase 'people like her.' It felt lonely.

Roxanne heard footsteps inside their apartment, and forced herself not to look. She hard the fridge open and close, and a glass bottle clinked against other bottles as it was removed. She heard the sound of liquid being poured. She was dormed, so she couldn't smell it, but she knew it was the orange juice. His favorite, since he'd given up pop.

She felt something heavy turn inside her stomach. She looked down the side of the apartment, to the street below. It'd be easy to step away into the night air. So easy.

She heard the tap running as she drew her sweater around herself. She'd been right. It was a lot hotter than Seattle during the day. But at night it went cool, dangerously quick, and before long she'd gotten some thicker clothes. Adjusting hadn't been hard, but not easy either. Just one of those things that life made you do.

Inside, the tap ran, and she heard a low and hollow rushing sound rise in pitch, then instantly lower, and rise again, only to lower. After a moment, she recognized the sound of water being poured into a bottle then rinsed out, and she slumped, the itch of tears dancing behind her eyelids.

She opened her eyes and looked down below, at the green plastic crates piled up at the complex's entrance. Tomorrow was recycling day, when the city would come by and pick up recyclables. It happened on the same day at the same time every week, and he knew that he was supposed to do it, and...

What a stupid argument.

She remembered opening the fridge, and seeing the empty bottles inside, and calling out to him as he watched Mefistophaleez brag about mutilating a whore on N!. He always rinsed the bottles on Monday night. He knew that. He'd just forgotten. Couldn't it wait 'til next week? No, she'd said, because she didn't want to live in an apartment littered with bottles for a week like some bachelor pad.

That had been the wrong thing to say.

He'd had trouble finding a job here. He'd decided to take a job teaching via correspondence through the University of Washington and the OpNet. He worked at home. He'd become the househusband. He liked it when he could see his students face to face. All of this frustration boiled up and bubbled out, and then he said that she could just turn all the bottles into steam with a twitch of her nose, like on Bewitched.

That had also been the wrong thing to say.

Roxanne rubbed her nose, feeling self-conscious. It wasn't that big when she was dormed. It was very big indeed, otherwise.

They'd shouted. She hated shouting. She loved speech in almost all its forms but she hated shouting, and she especially hated shouting over someone else. The way you fought for volume, for attention, and what it brought out of you, all your little demons. It was like bursting an overfilled water balloon. It left her feeling drained.

What a stupid argument.

She wanted to go back inside. She wasn't sure she should. He was cleaning the bottles now, so maybe it'd seem like she only paid attention when he did chores, and would that play into how houseproud he should be? But if she left it then maybe he'd just figure she didn't care at all and was looking for an excuse to bust his chops. Maybe they should sleep on it, unless that made the feelings just ferment... maybe if...

She bit her lip as she felt her stomach rose. What a stupid argument.

The last of the bottles clinked against the others in the crate. She heard footsteps, and felt a tingle in her scalp as she realized they were coming towards the balcony.

Mitch called through the screen door. "I'm taking the bottles downstairs." His voice was flat.

Roxanne couldn't force herself to turn around. She nodded. "Okay."

Mitch walked towards the elevator. With his sneaker, he pressed the down button. The doors opened smoothly. He pressed the button marked 'G' and the doors slid closed. The elevator jerked slightly and the bottles clinked.

When the doors opened, Mitch walked out through the lobby. He pushed through the revolving door and stooped, putting the bottles in the corner where the truck would come in the morning.

He stood up, and blinked, as one of the shadows moved. He turned around as Roxanne floated to the ground, undormed, her bright green eyes wobbling slightly.

Mitch managed to smile. Tufts of fur poked out through Roxanne's collar and her cuffs, and there was a bulge at the back of her skirt as her tails fought for freedom. She always looked goofy when she undormed hastily.

He dropped the crate and took Roxanne into his arms, giving her a hug. "I'm sorry I forgot."

"I'm sorry I yelled."

"It's okay," he said, running fingers through her hair. "My fault, this time."

She breathed out. So did he.

After a time, they went back upstairs, her hand in his.