The following morning, Mia opened her eyes, then rolled over to pull Aimee close to her chest. She kissed her forehead, stroking her soft black hair. Since she had become a host, she had noted subtle differences in her patterns of sleep; she was able to awaken far quicker, if still only to the peak of whatever energy she had accumulated overnight. "Good morning, handsome." She kissed Aimee's forehead and held her close, small scarabs nestling into the tendrils hanging from Aimee's wrists.
"Mmm... love you."
"I love you too." Mia stroked her hair for a while; she had Aimee's head on her chest for most of the night, which given her such calm sleep that when they awoke she had almost forgotten they were still on a contract. Yet, she was eager; violence was a mutually enjoyable activity for the couple, the sharing of murder as romantic as the sharing of a meal might be for anyone else.
It was almost half a year after they had first met, and the couple did not argue or differ much in their general values; Mia typically had her way however she liked it, although she had tried to accommodate Aimee's growing confidence as she could. She had learned the amount of reassurance Aimee required to feel secure; phrases to avoid or to repeat; and she felt herself a healing presence, which naturally meant she subtly felt she should be rewarded by as much unconditional love as she wanted.
More surprisingly was that as Aimee settled into her sexuality, the rougher and more degrading treatment she wanted from Mia, including certain acts that Mia would not indulge. But this sort of extremity is common among those formerly traumatized by religion; to rebel against the restraints that were placed upon one's sexuality often results in overcompensation, at least at first. It's as if the traumatized must keep their sexuality in a constant state of exertion so that they may be assured none other have claimed it.
As Aimee went up to go to the bathroom, Mia heard her speaking with the door open: "Mad Dog, Mad Dog... government, light, light Revenant..." As Mia came up behind Aimee and wrapped her arms around her, she noticed a curl of light sitting over the towel rack, as Aimee spoke: "There you are. Sorry, Mi- Swarm is here with me. Swarm, I'm just updating the federal government on our location. We're currently in Lathusser after our flight was destroyed. We'll continue along until we reach Tawnee for the night."
"Continue to update us with your location every morning."
The curl disappeared.
Mia glanced around, then to Aimee. "Is it...?"
"It's gone, yeah. Kinda liked the last Revenant they had for communication better. Walking through a wall into an office was much funner."
The young couple went out to the hotel's lobby and ran into Marisa, who was waiting in line for breakfast.
"Hey." Marisa yawned. "Samuel said he'd come down in a bit. Speaking of, why'd you put me with him, anyway? Did he get tired of Matoi?"
Aimee shrugged. "Just figured a bit of a swap for the trip would be-"
"Because the little pink-haired creep has a crush on you." chimed Mia helpfully. "And you're going to do the right thing by my stomach and not give her an ounce of your attention."
Marisa rubbed her eyes. "Oh, God, is that why she drove to pick me up? What the fuck does she even think she has in common with me? What would we even talk about?"
"I don't think she wants to exchange ideas, she wants to exchange fluids."
"Yeah, great, another woman who can't convince me that they like me for my personality."
Soon the others showed for breakfast. Mia noted that Samuel tended to put away as much food as any other student combined, besides perhaps Aimee. As he looked to Aimee, he glanced at her muscularity; just as she glanced at his; and they shared the nod of mutual respect that all weightlifters of similar strength do.
"How long?" he asked.
"About 6 years. You?"
"Almost 4. I've gone from the phase of weightlifting where you wear tank-tops about vikings to the phase where you wear shirts that say 'Fuzzy's House of Pancakes'."
Aimee paused. "Do they come in women's sizes?"
"I'll keep an eye out." said Samuel. "Speaking of, while we're on the subject of lifting. Six years in, I'm sure you've given it some thought. Any idea what effects that steroids have on hosts?"
"Got no interest in gear myself, but I can't imagine it'd kill you any quicker than what we do out there does." said Aimee, then remembered something from the previous night. "Uh, before we go. Wanted to tell you all something. I'm thinking we're being targeted by a particular group. Can't say who, since it's confidential, but I recognized two of the Revenants from reports I've read before. Only thing I need you all to do differently from any other host is destroy their Revenants. Don't scan, because that'll waste the government's time when they try to come pick it up. Destroy. These guys sometimes attack Revenant storage facilities, and I'd rather they steal something they've got no experience using than something they do. Make sense?"
"That's fine by me." said Mia, and Makoto agreed, setting the tone for the rest to follow.
After they finished, the six went outside to where their rental van was parked.
Makoto walked ahead. "We ready?"
Mia looked to Aimee, then subtly nodded. "Do it."
Makoto turned. "Do what? What are you-"
Aimee appeared behind Makoto, wrapped her biceps around Makoto's neck, then hurled her backwards clear through the backdoor of the van, through the front seat, out the windshield and over the hood, landing on the road and scraping her head against the asphalt for dozens of feet as Makoto shouted: "MOTHERRRFUUUUCKER!"
"THAT'S WHAT YOU FUCKING DESERVE!" shouted Mia, then turned to gaze lovingly at Aimee and clapped her hands smally. She kissed her longingly. "And that's what *you* deserve, my good little butch."
Aimee admittedly enjoyed having any sort of template to follow to know herself a good girlfriend for Mia.