The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

By Jixie

This is specifically for Sura's MerNavi AU. All you need to know is mermaids.

- Takes place some 60 - 70 years after my other fics "A Fish Out of Water" and "A Drop in the Ocean". They're not required reading, but this story will make more sense if you've read them first. At this point Roll, Forte, and Rock are in their species equivalent to their mid-twenties.

-I wasn't sure how to rate this, so warning: weird robot fish hanky-panky ahead.

Special thanks to Sura for help, suggestions, and beta reading.

Mega Man Battle Network © Capcom

The Oyashio current brought cold arctic water through the Bering Strait, colliding and merging with the warm Kuroshio current that ran up the coast of Japan, where everything converged into the North Pacific Gyre, traveling east across the ocean, then pushed south along California's shore before going back west, where it swept past their island home.

Today it carried with it Forte, returning from his latest sojourn. He came and went as he pleased, as fickle a creature as Roll had ever seen.

To be fair, he'd never liked the city, and once Dr. Cossack passed, no longer had much reason to stay close to the island.

"Where's Rockman at?"

… aside from Rock, of course. Probably the only reason he kept coming back.

"Aha," Roll replied. "He's back on the gladiatorial circuit, raising funds for Yuuichiro and Netto's latest project—"

"Still doing that crazy radio mind nonsense? Someone needs to tell those nerds that you can't just digitalize your brain into a fricken' broadcast signal."

"That's not what they're doing and you know it."

"We're more than just electrical signals, Roll. What do they even hope to accomplish? All that so they can live some inferior disembodied existence and what?"

"I don't… eh, I think the goal is space exploration, colonization of other worlds…"

"Yeah, yeah. Wasn't that Blues' thing? Morons."

She was inclined to agree, but Roll took Rock's side on principal. "Expanding to other worlds could easily be the future. Don't be narrow-minded!"

"Whatever."

It was always sort of weird how Forte would show up out of nowhere and slip into their home like he owned the place, and then she'd have to remind herself that this was his home too. Even if he spent most of his time away.

"Have you seen Kalinka yet?"

"No, I just got back."

With that, he swam through the archway down to the lower level, found a comfortable spot to hitch his tail, and started cueing up the backlog of mernavi entertainment he'd missed over the last few months.

A part of her wanted to follow, continue their conversation…

…But she had better things to do.

She'd kept up with Kalinka and the extended family, perhaps better than Forte himself did.

Likewise, Roll and Meiru had stayed close throughout the years. They still spoke every week over video chat, even as life pulled them in different directions and old age took its toll. Throughout Roll's adolescence, Meiru had graduated college, married, had children, divorced, remarried, raised her children to adulthood, and was now a grandmother several times over. Roll had only recently completed her education and formalized her partnership with Rock, settling into their own cozy little pod.

Mernavi didn't usually drift apart the way humans tended to (which is why close bonds formed in their youth could— and often did— carry into adulthood, growing into something more), and she knew there were times her dedication had been trying to Meiru. Now the 'age' difference was harder on Roll, with most of their conversations focusing on an endless list of minor ills and some hopelessly dull human hobby called 'quilting', but she knew how much her calls meant to Meiru.

Attempts to forge multi-generational bonds with her kids and grandkids, as Serenade had done with their human family, hadn't really taken off. Oh, they gladly talked to Roll if they happened to be visiting when she called, and they were considerate enough to notify her whenever Meiru's health took a turn.

It was clear, however, that once 'Grammy' died, the connection Roll had with the family would fade as well.

At least she had it better than Blues, whose deep friendship— brotherhood, really— with Enzan had ended abruptly and tragically. Enzan, who left behind no spouse, no children, only a grieving father and a great deal of regret.

It was strange what life and death did to people. Roll had loved humans, enjoyed befriending them, appreciated the unique perspective they gave her.

…Only to gradually grow hard-hearted as the reality of their short, all-to-easily ended lives set in. They were so fragile, so transient. It was better, less painful, not to get attached in the first place.

Forte'd had the opposite experience. Dr. Cossack's lingering illness had given him a more profound understanding of human nature and a greater sense of empathy. Serenade had been there for him throughout the whole ordeal, and afterwards, he'd apologized to them and to Mamoru for all the trouble he'd given both over the years.

(Mamoru, who spent his entire life balanced on the razor's edge, would ironically end up outliving all of his human peers.)

Even then, Forte wasn't very good at following up with anyone, not even his adopted sister and her children.

Roll let him spend a couple hours to unwind before harassing him about Kalinka.

Born a repair frame, Roll eagerly embraced the life she was designed for. She liked fixing things, helping people, leaving the world a little bit better place than it was before.

That same life ground her down, wore her out. It wasn't easy losing patients, no matter how hard she worked to avoid that, and not all things were fixable by a person's hands. Although she wasn't exactly a cynic, the grown-up Roll had a much more world-weary outlook than the child Roll ever had.

She wanted to say that was a part of being an adult, but really? Rockman and Netto hadn't changed all that much. They were a little wiser, a little more restrained, a little more mature… but they still saw the best in others, and still believed in a brighter future. A future that they were excited about.

Blues, if anything, was less anxious than he'd been growing up. He'd found his perfect buoyancy, so to speak, and he would always be a little awkward but no longer struggled the way he used to.

And in his maturity Forte seemed to be in a much better place than he'd ever been, but with him, you never really could tell.

"Come on."

"What?"

"Kalinka said she wanted to see you too. So, come on."

Roll wanted to protest but she ended up following along.

"It's called inflation, Shamu," Kalinka teased Forte over his petty complaints about transport service costs.

"There's no way your currency has gone up that much since the last time," he replied. "And call me that again, I dare you, air breather."

"Shamu."

Over the years he'd perfected the exact tone of obnoxious electric whine that drove humans up the wall, and then learned to lower the pitch as needed, compensating for their inability to hear high-pitched sounds as they grew older. Kalinka yelped and chucked a throw pillow at him, Forte let it hit him, then grabbed it off the floor and wound up his arm like he was going to fling it back. Instead, he gently tossed it to her.

"You're getting your scheduled screenings, right?"

"Ugh, leave an old woman alone."

"Kalinka…"

"Something'll get me in the end, at this point I'd rather not know."

"Tt! This is not a joke. Hereditary mutations in the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes are linked to—"

"I'd rather they just take me out back and put me down like a horse. Pop! Done."

Roll accidentally let out a sharp laugh, temporarily diverting Forte's ire from Kalinka to herself. His glare was withering and Roll did, in fact, wither from it.

"As I was saying, linked to ovarian and pancreatic—"

"Yes, yes, yes. Jumpin' Jehoshaphat, Forte. I can take care of myself."

They stayed longer than they meant to, joking, reminiscing, listening to endless stories about what was new with her kids and how the grandchildren were doing.

"Your grandnieces and nephews are so cute," Roll said on their ride back to the pier.

"I guess? They grow up way too fast." He made a face. "Get old too fast. Sometimes I wish I never… not that I would change anything, just…"

"No, I get it." Her own pain over dear friends was bad enough, she couldn't imagine what people like Forte or Serenade went through.

"It's funny, I can still remember Dad trying to explain 'cancer' to me, and would you believe it was when we were talking about how they died, of all things."

He was absently touching the scar on his chest, and Roll didn't have to ask who 'they' were. She wisely gave the conversation a forceful shove in another direction.

"You know who doesn't grow up too quickly? Mernavi fry."

"Oh no. Don't you start, now."

"Hey, I hear it from Yuuichiro and Haruka every bit as much as you do. More, actually, since I'm actually around them and don't disappear for months at a time…"

"Yeah, and why do you think I disappear for months at a time in the first place?" he joked.

In a lot of ways humans and mernavi— organic and cybernetic life— were intrinsically different, but in a lot of ways they were remarkably alike.

Reproduction, for example.

On the surface, their methods for propagation seemed to be polar opposites, but at their core were essentially the same. After all, what is sexual reproduction but an exchange of genetic material, merged together to create someone new? What is DNA, but the data providing a blueprint for this new person?

While the means may have been different, navi also exchanged data, the hereditary information used to create a child. It was just a little more… flexible. Any mernavi could equally give or receive data. They couldn't produce a child alone, at least two contributors were needed, but they were not limited to just two data donors. Data could be… selective, carefully edited, tailored for the best results. In other words, navis were making designer babies long before humans had even discovered what cells were.

And, like humans, the act of sharing or receiving a compressed data packet was gratifying, triggering electrical signals in the brain that gave an overwhelming sense of pleasure and contentment, love and attachment. Naturally, like most intelligent creatures, they fucked for recreation.

Although it couldn't produce a viable initialization chip— the culmination of data, the seed of a child that would be planted into an egg capsule— there was nothing to prevent a mernavi from simply plugging their I/O cable into their own dock and just uploading the file to themselves. Also for recreation.

Which was how Forte usually handled these things.

It was simpler. Less messy. Less… 'having to put up with a too clingy post-coital Rock'-y.

(Something he long suspected was a sham, because it sure seemed as if Rockman liked being held and caressed more than the actual coupling. Mushy business. Why bother putting Forte through that? Wasn't that what Roll was for?)

But he'd just spent some long, lonely nights trekking the Pacific. It was a lot of alone time— not to mention a lot of 'alone time'— to the point where he was actually craving some companionship (and the rutting that went with it, and maybe, maybe some of that physical affection that came afterwards).

Except Rock had the nerve to not be there when he got back. (How dare he?)

He found some solace in the mindless distraction of video streams, internet surfing, and electronic games, but at the end of the day it was just a stop-gap solution, and masturbation was not scratching this particular itch. By day three, it was starting to get to him.

"When's Rockman supposed to be back?"

Roll huffed in annoyance. It'd only been a couple hours since Forte last asked if she'd heard from Rock, nothing had changed in the interim. "I already told you, I don't know."

It was subtle, but he looked slightly crestfallen. It didn't take a computer scientist to figure out what had him so wound up. "Did you want to—?" he started, with all the grace of a whale shark, then faltered. "Never mind."

"What?"

"I said 'never mind'."

He started to leave, no doubt going back to… whatever he was doing to fritter away the time… but Roll caught the edge of his fin and gave a playful tug. He shot her a death glare.

"'Did you want to fuck'?" She grinned at his exasperation. "Why not?"

He blinked in surprise.

"There's got to be SOME reason Rock puts up with your crap. And there's only one way to find out if it is what I think it is."

"Ugh." After a moment's hesitation, he shrugged. "Fine."

…It wasn't like he had better things to do.

What Roll had expected… well… what had she expected?

Aggression. Bold and assertive, the sort of take-charge, self-assured actions of someone who was cocky and had the skill to back it up.

What she got was… passive indifference. What humans would call 'frigid'.

She expected him to corner her, pinning her back against a foundational column, fingers roughly fumbling their way in—

But Forte barely touched her. She ran her hands over his ventral plates and found the aperture scale, a protective shield where all that sensitive equipment was tucked away. Whatever one called it— the cloaca, vent, epigastric furrow— it was an opening, an aperture. Within was a set of I/O cables and connectors, a dock to plug into, and their generator's outlet. Roll carefully snapped it open…

…and ended up having to do the same to her own, because Forte didn't even try.

It was without a doubt the least sexy coupling she'd ever had. (That included her and Rock's sweetly awkward first time. Or back when she and Meddi were together, and they thought it'd be fun to give it a go while messed up from overclocking. That had ended with Meddi's visor cracked when Roll accidentally headbutted her, and one of Roll's streamers ripped off when Meddi grabbed it by mistake… but they'd had fun and been able to laugh about it afterwards.) She hooked up one of her cables into his dock and waited, expecting he would do the same, for a mutual exchange.

He did not.

As pathetic as this whole affair was, she quickly became swept up in the physiological reaction to jacking in, her body ready to do a data upload. Roll shivered as the sensation coiled deep inside her and then pulsed throughout. And Forte—

—just sort of hunched up into himself, grabbing her around the waist, making a small, almost pained sound.

Somewhere in the haze of her climax Roll realized what Rock had known all along: that Forte was a massive fraud. That under the attitude and callousness was someone with a terrible, desperate need. Someone who wanted affection and belonging and a chance to be vulnerable, even if it was just for a few minutes while receiving a data packet download. And hated himself for it.

Afterwards she held him while he shuddered, not from pleasure but from distress.

There was an alarming lack of protest.

Instead of avoiding her or being embarrassed, Forte acted like nothing happened.

Again, not at all what she'd expected.

"Hey, remember when you and the girls threw that little 'talent show'?" he asked out of the blue.

"Yeah," Roll replied. "What about it?"

"It was terrible. You were all really bad." Chuckling, he tapped his chin and dodged as she half-heartedly swatted at him with her tail. "…I don't know why, I've just been thinking about that lately. All the dumb stuff we used to get into when we were kids."

"Aww, somebody's getting all broody on us…"

Instead of growing flustered or indignant, Forte shrugged. "I guess."

"Do you think you… I mean… do you even want to have kids?"

She did. Rock did. They'd only ever had casual conversations about it, and hadn't really worked out the logistics yet. There was no rush, they had time. Roll never imagined Forte might want to have a part, didn't even think he had any desire to reproduce, but here they were.

"…Well…" Forte looked conflicted. "…Yes. But I wouldn't be a good parent, so I don't think I will."

"Says who?"

"Have you met me?"

"Okay, that's fair." She offered an encouraging smile. "Honestly? I think you're selling yourself short. The fact that you're concerned about it shows a—"

He made a dismissive gesture.

"Well, Rock would make a great parent, and frankly, so would I. You could always be an Ancillary…" Roll drifted off, lost in thought. "Hey, remember that time you almost died?"

"…Want to narrow it down a bit?"

"The thing with the cyber-shark."

"Sure. What of it?"

"Didn't that happen because—"

"No."

"—you saved—"

"No."

"—Netto?"

"Ugh. It's not that I care about Netto. It's just I knew that Rockman would never shut up about it, and it was easier to keep that little punk from dying than it was to listen to the endless moaning and groaning about his idiot brother."

Grinning, Roll placed a hand on his upper arm. "Okay. You're right, you wouldn't make a good parent. But you'd be an adequate one."

He smacked her hand away. "Don't be stupid."

Rockman returned a couple weeks later, and Forte went from openly pining for him to detached indifference.

"Who do you think you're fooling?" Roll asked, teasing him. "You asked when Rock was coming back at least twice a day."

"Really?" Rock asked, eyes lit up with joy.

It was useless to protest, and Forte just wore a look of resignation as Rock threw his arms around him. The lack of an attempt to wiggle free or assert his personal space spoke for itself. "Well you just got back, I figured you needed some space."

"Some space? Do you even listen to yourself?"

Roll gave him a knowing look, and then playfully flicked her tail. "I've got some… errands to run. I'll be back in oh, about an hour, give or take." Careful to avoid bonking her head on Forte's crest, she gave Rock a quick nuzzle and then a fleeting kiss— a human habit she'd picked up from watching cheesy human romance movies as a kid. Rock, of course, found it insanely endearing. Forte rolled his eyes dramatically— a human habit he'd picked up from his family.

She stayed out for an extra hour, just in case. When she got back, Rock greeted her passionately, pulling her into a tight embrace, tail coiling around her body.

"Missed you." He buried his face in the crook between her neck and shoulder, nudging his way up to the lip of her helm, fingers tracing along her hair. Roll felt the slight rush of vented water against her audio sensors, still warm, and hummed in appreciation.

"I missed you too," she replied, wrapping her arms around him, placing her hands on the back of his neck.

"Yeah, but I missed you more."

"Oh, I didn't know it was a contest." Roll laughed when Rock blew short, rapid bursts of bubbles under her jaw and chin. "Quit that," she said in a tone that indicated that she didn't actually want him to stop. "You goofball."

"Roll." There was a slight urgency in his voice, and he lifted his head to give her a questioning look.

She kissed him again, and then reached down to open her aperture scale. "I'm shocked, Forte didn't wear you out?"

"Ha. When has he ever beat me at anything?"

She shook with laughter, but before long she was shaking with pleasure. Rock was always so… so… well, cheesy really, but in a sweet and charming way. He was very much into having a mutual exchange, both partners freely giving and graciously receiving all at once. Tender and considerate as ever.

He was also pretty set on the whole 'look each other in the eye' while 'making love' (because naturally, Rock called it that, a goofball through-and-through). Roll tried to humor him on that, but she always felt a little bit silly, and often ended up resting her head against his chest instead, listening to the faint drumming of his circulation pump.

(Idly she wondered how he intended to work around a trio, and quickly dismissed the thought.)

Afterwards he continued to hold her, stroking her back, and she wove her fingers between the tines of his hair.

"Did he leave?"

"Huh?"

"Forte."

"Oh, no, he's asleep—"

Roll couldn't help it, she laughed.

"Weren't you going to ask how my tour went?" Rock teased, giving her a wry grin.

"Saito, hatchling, you messaged me every single day you were away. I'm fully aware of how the competition went."

"Yeah… well… I didn't write about everything."

Having thoroughly re-affirmed the bonds of both his partners, Rock was now eager to share every inane detail of his latest battle tournaments. Roll knew all too well what she was in for: an evening of long winded stories, rife with bad jokes and even worse puns. She didn't mind, it was part of his goofball charm. She liked his earnestness. Still…

…she had better things to talk about.

"Yeah, well, I didn't write about everything either."

Rock blinked in surprise. Something in her voice gave him pause. "What?"

"I may have tupped your 'first catch'…"

He made a sound, almost a choking laugh and sharp intake of water combined. "WHAT?"

It was genuine surprise, not anger. In fact, knowing Rock, he would've been delighted were it not for all the shock. He was downright gobsmacked, really.

"Yes. It's true. And not to put too fine a point on things, I can't even say 'we' did it, because— pardon my Benthicese— he was pretty much a dead fish."

This time the sound Rock made was definitely a strangled burst of laughter, and he pulled away from Roll just enough to clap a hand over his mouth. He shuddered as he tried to suppress the urge to cackle wildly.

"Roll!" he said once he'd finally managed to compose himself.

She smirked and did a fin flip of indifference— the navi equivalent of a shrug— before responding. "If anything, I'm now even more confused about how you two ended up together."

Rock's tail went slack and he untangled himself from her, then clasped both hands on her shoulders.

"Aw, come on. He's always like that when he first gets back—"

"Clinically depressed?"

"It's not that, it's just, he spends too much time alone and gets all weird."

"Does he know they have code patches for that?"

"There's nothing wrong with him," Rock insisted.

Roll huffed softly and tapped her chin. "If you say so. Traversing the Pacific for months of self-induced solitary and coming back miserable is not normal behavior." She gave him a questioning look. "So the coupling isn't always that lousy, then?"

"Augh. No, but— that's not why I'm partnered with him. Okay?" When she didn't respond, Rock's face twisted up slightly, not sure how to put it into words. "He needs me."

"Oh, Saito." She gently cradled his chin, her other hand stroking the side of his neck. "Saito. You poor, sweet, innocent little hatchling fry child. The egg capsule of my pump. You can't just partner with someone, bring them into your pod, because you want to take care of them. It's a partnership— a cooperative effort, a—"

He flicked his hand near his head, a rare gesture of annoyance from Rock. "I know that. That's not the only reason." He looked slightly sheepish. "I mean… there's also the dead fish data dumps."

For a few seconds he managed to hold the deadpan delivery before cracking. Rock broke into a toothy grin and snickered. Roll, laughing, punched him playfully on the shoulder.

"Actually, Rockman partnered with me because—" said Forte.

"GULL SHIT!" Roll cried out in surprise.

"Seven seas, Forte, how long were you listening in!?"

He paused just long enough for them to finish, and then continued as if nothing had happened. "—he's been head-over-tail in love with me since we were kids. Don't ask me why. Probably because he's an imbecile."

"Ummmm…" said Roll, hiding half of her face in her hands in embarrassment. "Umm…"

"Don't worry. I could not possibly care less what you think, Roll." Then he glanced at Rock. "And you, I never thought I'd hear you use such profanity. 'Dead fish'? 'Data dump'?" These were actually pretty crass expressions for navi. He swam over to them and threw an arm around Rock's shoulders. "Congratulations, jellyfish brains, you're now a bull dolphin, a seastallion, a plug-connector cybernetic sea-serpent." Forte made a mock chiming sound— fake sobbing— and clapped his free hand over his circulation pump. "Our little fry has finally become a full grown mernavi."

Rock groaned and shrugged him off. "You know, you could be nice for a change."

"I could," he agreed. "But as a counterpoint… no."

On the bright side, all this chicanery bought Roll another day before having to listen to every agonizing minute detail of Rock's battles and trips. It wasn't so bad… he was so happy to share, and it wasn't like he pressured her to go with him, so hearing about it after the fact was only fair. Besides, how many times had she bored him to near-death with digimedical cases that went completely over his head?

A small price to pay, really, the fair trade-off of a healthy relationship. Communication and support even when you didn't really care all that much about your partner's hobbies or passions.

Forte stuck around but also made himself scarce, mostly just showing up to drag Rock off to do who knows what— no, well, they all knew exactly what. That, and to play competitive electronic games. Boys.

Life went back to its quiet routine.

A little over a month later, and Roll returned from work to what she thought was an empty dwelling. Rock was visiting Netto, and she hadn't seen Forte in the last two days.

So she was taken by surprise when she went to grab a canister of fuel, and found her path blocked by the other navi. While Forte no longer intimidated her the way he once had, he was watching her like a mantis shrimp honing in on a tiny fish. She wasn't sure what to expect.

"I lied," he said matter-of-factly. "You're an intelligent, reasonable navi, which makes your opinion valuable."

Roll stared in confusion. Was he… was he apologizing? Was he… asking for an apology?

"But if you think you can hurt me, or turn Rockman against me, you're going to have come a lot harder than that."

"What? I don't— I never—" She paused and rubbed her temples, one of those few gestures that were the same for human and navi alike. "Forte, you're weird and surly and I can't say that I find any of that endearing, but… why in the Pacific would you think—? Never mind. What you and Rock do doesn't affect me any more than what Rock and I do affects you—"

"What you and Rock do does affect me."

She froze. "I'm sorry?"

"I had plans too, you know. We were going to— but no, 'Roll wants to live in the city'." Forte's imitation of Rock's voice was eerily close to the real thing.

For a second, she felt deeply ashamed, she'd had no idea… but then she had a rush of anger.

"This is the first I'm hearing about any of this. Sorry to say my mind reading program never loaded right!"

"He asked you—!"

"No, he asked me if I wanted to live here or 'go wherever the currents take us'." Roll's imitation wasn't nearly as accurate. "There was no mention of you, or any sort of plans for— I don't know what you had in mind, hunting sea monsters or whatever. But neither of you nitwits ever actually talked to me about it!"

Forte paused, studying her, but before he could respond, Roll had a sudden realization.

"Hey, wait a second. When you were doing that Rock impression, you didn't have an accent…?"

"You got a point?"

"Are you… is that some kind of affectation? Like you're doing it on purpose?"

"Of course I'm doing it on purpose." He said it like this was the most natural thing in the world, and he couldn't understand why she was so incredulous.

Roll boggled. "So… you're saying… you intentionally sound odd and make it harder to understand you. That. That's a choice you've made."

"Yeah." He laughed coldly. "Roll, my progenitors were killed when I was still a wriggler. I didn't download a language pack until I met Dr. Cossack. In between, I had to fight and earn every—" He cut himself off. "There was no one to teach me Low Pacifian, I had to learn it myself. That 'affectation' is all that's left of a family and territory that were stolen from me. So yes. I'll speak however the abyss I want to."

Somewhere in the wave of mixed emotions, she realized what Rock had known all along: just how badly Forte needed his friends and what it meant that he'd opened up to them at all.

Roll didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. Instead she reached out and placed a comforting hand on his face, fingers curled slightly against his left audio receptor. Forte's stare was still intense, but there was a change, a shift.

"Do… do you want a do over?" she asked.

His answer was animalistic— what Roll had expected all along. He pinned her, strong hands gripping her arms, tail coiled around hers. Unlike Rock's tender embrace, this was forceful, restraining. Sharp fangs flashed against Roll's throat, nipping, threatening to bite hard and drink deep. Forte was assertive and driven, with the sort of take-charge, self-assured actions of someone who was cocky and had the skill to back it up.

Claws skid over her ventral plates, fingers roughly snapping open her aperture scale.

Then Forte abruptly pulled back, just enough so he could look her in the eye.

"Hey. Rockman likes this kind of thing, and—" His tone was reluctant, with an underlying thread of… dare she call it nervousness? "I'm not— Tt. You want this, right?"

Roll had to bite back a laugh.

"Yes! For fucks sake, yes!"

It was electric, pulsing through her blood. They took turns, one after another, and Roll discovered Forte had a stamina that Rock didn't. Seven seas no wonder Rock put up with all his crap.

And afterwards…

Forte rested his forehead against Roll's, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers. It wasn't the loving, tender affection that Rock showed, but somehow… coming from Forte, it was every bit as touching.

In some ways things returned to the status quo, but in other ways, they had been hopelessly shaken up.

There was a tension that had evaporated, something Roll never noticed was there until it wasn't. Things got… easier… when it came to dealing with Forte, and oddly enough, with Rock as well. Balancing the two of them had taken a bit of a toll on him, and he was relieved that they had managed to come to some sort of understanding.

Not to mention that Rock was one of those people who was physically incapable of jealousy (towards his partners, at least… battles or 'friendly' competitions were another story), and was truly, genuinely happy to see Roll and Forte— the two loves of his life— form their own relationship.

"Here," said Roll, hand extended.

"What's this?" Forte asked, slightly irate.

"Code patches, you big dummy. It's about time you got on some kind of mood stabilizers like a responsible adult."

He frowned. "I don't need—"

"TAKE THE CHIPS, FORTE." Rock's expression was equally intense, eyes narrowed, shoulders tense, tail fin flared.

They both startled: they could count on one hand the times Rock had used such a forceful, authoritative, 'do it or I'll kill you' tone. (Again, outside of battle.)

Somewhat uneasily, Forte reached out and took the computer chips from Roll.

Roll was half asleep, nestled in Rock's arms, one finger lazily tracing the edge of Forte's crest, while he just as absently played with one of her streamers.

"Hey Saito."

"Mmm."

"Did your bratty consort ever tell you that he's broody and wants to spawn?"

She was teasing, even if it was true, and Forte made a sound of disgust but was too spent to actually protest. Rock, on the other hand, was instantly revitalized, his head snapping up.

"What!? Really? Is it true?" His eyes were wide as a giant squid's. "Wha— why didn't you say something? I mean— we could—! You know— it— uhmm— wow! Wow!"

"Shut up, doofus. Why must you insist on inflicting these things on me, Roll?"

"'Cause it's fun." She cackled, then playfully trailed from his crest down his helm and neck, fingers fluttering, until he snatched her hand.

"Thanks."

"Wow," said Rock again. "We should— the three of us—"

With a huff of loving exasperation, Roll gently placed her free hand over Rock's mouth. "Shhhh, hatchling. Shhhh."

She could feel his goofy grin under her palm. Unable to help it, she broke into an equally stupid smile of her own.

And Forte just groaned in resignation.