The cab driver doesn't say anything, and even if did, they wouldn't notice. They're too preoccupied with each other; touches and looks and tiny little sparks that build to shocks on bare skin. When the taxi stops, Chell throws a $50 at the driver while Gladys tries to drag her out. They can't make it up the stairs fast enough.

They don't even make it into a bedroom. Chell pushes Gladys onto the couch just inside the door, straddling her legs and pulling up the hem of her dress. Gladys lifts her hips so the other woman can pull the garment off over her head, leaving her in her bra and panties. Of course, Chell makes quick work of her bra, dropping it beside them on the couch and leaning down to lick an already-erect nipple.

"Oh God," Gladys moans, grabbing blindly at Chell's hair and shoulder. Chell massages her other breast with her hand while the tip of her tongue plays over the other, flicking the nipple back and forth, then sucking on it. She nips gently, and when Gladys groans and grips her hair tighter, she bites harder, working on a bruise. Gladys doesn't seem opposed to this.

Chell continues the foreplay for a while, then slides Gladys down sideways so she's lying on her back. Sitting on her hips, Chell removes her top. Gladys just observes the smooth, toned body of the other woman, remembering watching those muscles move underneath her standard testing uniform, not with lust, but mere fascination. Chell is-was-is-the perfect test subject, with the perfect build, intelligence, and resourcefulness. Of course, these qualities don't only help with testing.

The buzzing in Gladys' veins builds to a crescendo when Chell slips her hand under the elastic of Gladys' underwear, tangling her fingers in coarse curls and further down into damp heat. "Oh God," Gladys nearly screams as those fingers start to move, pushing against sensitive areas not yet explored. There's a smile on Chell's lips as she leans down, pressing their bodies together and kissing at Gladys' neck. All Gladys can feel is heat and good and fire and tight muscle spasms, reaching up to hold onto Chell with all her might. Chell's fingers start to move faster, each brush against her clit drawing out a little moan or a sharp gasp. Gladys spreads her legs further, allowing, almost asking, for Chell to slip a finger inside her.

Gladys lets out one of those hauntingly beautiful melodic moans, and Chell can't help but look up at her face, into her eyes, and whisper "GLaDOS," before silencing them both with a kiss.

The sound of Chell's voice, speaking to her, with her name, not her human name, but her real name, is enough to send Gladys over the edge. She clenches, every muscle in her stomach taut, then collapses bonelessly, breathing like she can't possibly get enough air into her lungs.

Chell moves her fingers more slowly, letting Gladys ride out her afterglow, then removes them, letting them play along her stomach. She hasn't come, but that display was enough to satisfy her. For now, anyway. Gladys has the back of her hand on her forehead, looking like she's ready to pass out from the pleasure, but the corners of her lips are twitching in what might be a smile.

"That," she says in between breaths, "was incredible." Chell stacks her hands on Gladys' chest and rests her chin on them, beaming up at her. "Test euphoria doesn't hold a candle to it," she smiles back, looking down at the other woman with heavy-lidded eyes, "and the way you punched that guy. That was incredible too."

Chell rolls her eyes, still grinning. "You talk too much," she says, and Gladys tilts her head back, releasing a deep sigh and light, genuine laughter.

"You don't talk at all. Someone has to compensate."

"Well, now that I've decided to start, perhaps you should cut back."

"That's like asking a turret not to shoot organic lifeforms."

Chell rolls her eyes again, then leans up and covers Gladys' mouth with a kiss. They stay like that for a few moments, reveling in the closeness. When they separate, Gladys lets out a contented sigh. "That is one way to shut me up," she teases.

"I'm sure I can think of many more," Chell teases right back, giving her breast a firm squeeze.

In time to come, their neighbors give them awkward looks, apparently well aware of what the two women do in the privacy of their apartment (and sometimes the stairwell, and the elevator, and the mail room), but neither Chell nor Gladys care. They're over 99999[CORRUPTED] old, and they're not going to live forever, so fuck if they're not going to make the most of what they have left. Together.