.gif "talk about sex by @frostsparks")
"Woo! Take it off!" Jester catcalled from her bunk.
"You're being ridiculous." Said Medusa, removing her uniform and neatly placing it in a laundry bin.
Her body was sleek black metal, dozens of interlocking armored plates devoid of any features.
Jester whistled. "Hot." She said, leering.
Medusa rolled her eyes.
"My body is not hot." She said. "It's ruthlessly efficient. A machine for killing, nothing else."
"Hot."
"Ridiculous." Medusa repeated. "What are you finding attractive here? Is it armor segment 27a? 51b?"
"You don't get it, Dusa. You lack imagination."
"Enlighten me."
"The chassis isn't hot intrinsically, it's hot because it's you, fuckhead." She explained, rolling onto her back and stretching. "You don't see me looking at requisitions catalogues with my hand in my pants, do you?"
"I don't have eyes on you every moment of the day."
"Har har."
"So my body only interests you in a purely sentimental fashion?" Medusa asked, folding her arms and staring through Jester's eyes into her soul.
"Weeell," Jester said, mouth dry. "You've got those squishy textured fingerpads for grip, I am a little curious how they feel."
"You've held my hand." Medusa said, smug, as she stalked toward Jester.
"I-I'm not talking about holding hands." Jester said.
Medusa closed a mechanical hand around Jester's throat, gentle but immovable.
"Greedy. Perhaps when I'm done with you, your curiosity will be satisfied."
