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"I'm going," I grumble to the carinoux. "Don't knock me down."
Sophie's been hard at work tending the beds near the front of the terrarium, and they look neat and clean. The foliage is still thick and overgrown in several areas at the back of the large dome, and of course the leak would be in one of those. I don't see the human, so I push through thick tangles of vines, heading toward the sound of water hissing out from a pipe.
"Ow!" I hear as I step over a crawling vine nearly as big as a tree trunk. "Son of a bitch!"
"Sophie?" I call out.
"Over here," the female replies, and then cusses again in her human language.
When I finally make my way through the overgrown plants, a spray of hot water hits me in the face and I grunt. Why is it always the hot water pipes that break down? I quickly eye the area, shielding my face with my hand. The busted pipe is one of the sprinklers set into the wall that runs along the perimeter of the room. It should be easy enough to fix once I get the water off. Sophie's standing nearby, half-hidden behind a thick plant, an enormous leaf in front of her as a shield as she tries to approach the broken pipe and the control panel to shut it off. Heated water sprays everywhere, steaming in the air.
"Stand back." I head for the panel, ignoring the hot spray that soaks my hair and my clothing. When Sophie heads for the pipe again, I gesture that she should back away. "You can't turn it off from there. The pipe'll be too hot to touch."
"Yeah, I figured that part out," she comments dryly. "So what do we do?"
"Shut off the water to this part of the terrarium and replace the broken area," I say, stripping my shirt off to protect me from the blast of hot water. I wrap it around my cybernetic arm, because at least that won't blister, and use it as a shield to block the worst of the water, because of course the panel I need is directly to the side of the break. My arm sends up all kinds of alarming feedback, my circuits going crazy as I type in the override. The hammer of hot water finally stops and I fling my wet shirt to the ground in disgust. Feedback crackles through me, making me grit my teeth, and I can tell it's going to be one of those keffing days where my limbs cause me no end of pain.
I look over at Sophie. She's completely soaked, her dark hair plastered to her hornless head and making her seem smaller than normal. Her jumper has been stripped off and lays in a wet heap on the tile floor. Her arms and legs are covered in mud, her face smeared in it, too, as if she's been rolling around in the dirt like her pet does. There's a disgruntled look on her face that might be guilt.
"What did you touch?" I bark over at her.
"Nothing!" She starts to cross her arms over her chest and then stops, letting her muddy hands fall limply to her sides. I can't help but notice that her undergarments—a soft shell of a pale tank top and some strange short pants to cover her hips—are utterly soaked and cling to her body, outlining everything I've imagined. There's a dark patch between her thighs, and her nipples are dark and hard against the wet fabric of her top. Her breasts are outlined magnificently in the wet material and the sight of her like this—soaked and muddy and yet so incredibly erotic—is going to be burned into my mind.
"How-how did it break?" I jerk my gaze away from her nipples—pert and fascinatingly tight—and try to focus on the broken pipe. She's not mine to stare at. I don't get to wonder about the feel of her skin, or what that dark triangle is between her legs.
"I don't know," Sophie admits, and she sounds tired. She rubs the back of one hand along her brow when I look over at her, leaving a smear of mud in her wake. "I was working on the bed at the front when I heard something hiss, and I came to look at it. I tried to turn off the pipe, but it started shooting water everywhere and…" She spreads her hands. "Boom. Clusterfuck."
Clus-ter-fuck. I don't know what it means but it sounds vaguely appropriate. "I'll take care of this. Just get your pet and get out of here."
"Okay." Sophie sounds timid, and I hate that I've somehow scared her again. She hesitates, and when I look over, she bites down on her lip and gestures at the wet pile of her clothing. "Can…I hate to ask, but can you hand that to me?"
