"They all do it. The human mind doesn't normally handle this much information at a time, and OutLink hasn't figured out how to keep them from collapsing." He laughed. "At least they still download when they're out cold, though, right?"
"Wonder what you'd say if this was your sister," Sin said softly, helping the girl to her feet. "Ingénue, take my arm."
"Thanks," she whispered, and he noticed it wasn't the formal 'thank you' she'd always used by rote. Somehow that made it mean something.
She clung to him, using his strength to hold her up. Carefully – slowly – he escorted her from the building. The broken asphalt of the street outside seemed so much nicer than the glass and chrome of those corporate assholes who were amused by her weakness.
Chapter Eight
"Father," he said softly, knowing his God would hear, "grant me the wisdom to know when I'm wrong, and the intelligence to keep my mouth shut before I act like an ass. Amen."
Beside him, the girl laughed weakly. "That's a prayer?"
"Mine," he admitted. "I'm sorry, Ingénue. I've been acting just like them. Can you forgive me?"
She said nothing for a moment as he led her back to her home, but he saw her eyes glistening a little too much. It was nearly a block before he heard her sniff softly. He glanced at her and saw her wipe quickly at her lashes.
"Don't tell me I made you cry?" he asked, guilt hitting him like a hammer.
"It's ok," she said. "I forgive you. And, thank you for helping me." Her eyes flicked to him, then right back to the ground. "All of those times, not just this one."
"You still feel like a mess?" he asked.
"Burned out," she corrected. "Do you mind stopping for a minute?"
"Nah. I need a smoke anyway." As he guided her to a bench at the side of the street, Sin chuckled at the way her eyes had darted to his legs, proving he'd surprised her. "It's one vice that isn't against God, Princess. Let me have it."
"I didn't say anything."
"Your eyes did."
She smiled, the crinkles his only hint. "I think you spend too much time watching my face then."
He paused, the pack of smokes in his hand. "Probably. Not like I can see much of it, though."
"I did it again, didn't I?" she asked, sounding almost upset.
"Did what?" He flicked the lighter, listening to the paper burn.
The Ingénue took a deep breath. "I made a socially unacceptable comment."
Sin laughed. "No. You're fine, I just realized that I do spend a lot of time looking at your eyes, because they're all I can see. You aren't exactly oozing your emotions, girl."
"That's a good thing." She breathed in again. "And that smells nice."
His eyes widened. "My smoke? Now that, Princess, is a socially unacceptable comment."
"But it does." She inhaled again. "Natural."
"So, I guess this means I won't have to worry about standing downwind of you?"
"I like it. I think that's the other scent I couldn't identify on you."
"Wait, you've been smelling me?" he teased.
She didn't seem to understand his amusement, though, so she answered honestly. "Yes, I can't help but. You smell like kevlar, carbon fiber, gun powder, and a very nice shampoo."
"Guess I'll keep using the same brand then, since you approve."
