WARNING: OBVIOUS SPOILERS! Rated T for slight language.

A/N: I just want to apologize ahead for this story. It transformed way beyond what it was originally going to be, and I had no intention of involving Brad this much into it [you'll understand when you read it, lol]. Hopefully everyone's pretty in character. Calhoun can be pretty hard to write when she gets outside her hard exterior.

Sorry for the kinda awful summary. Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all like it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wreck-it Ralph or any of its characters.

"So," Sergeant Tamora Jean Calhoun said, after a moment. "This was fun."

She was currently standing at the door to her cabin with Fix-it Felix Jr., a "friend" she had met a couple weeks ago on a major cy-bug mission she at times wishes she could forget.

"Indeed it was, ma'am," the short handyman agreed. He placed both his hands behind his back and rocked his feet back and forth, as if waiting for something.

She casually grabbed for the doorknob from behind her back while still smiling at him. She knew what he was waiting for, of course. It was only natural after being walked to the door after a, er...date, that one be invited into the other's house.

"We should do it again sometime," She added, twisting the knob slowly, quietly. She thanked her lucky stars she was still wearing her gloves, or else her sweaty palms would have slipped and ruined everything.

"Absolutely!" Felix agreed again, nodding his cute little head.

He wasn't taking the hint. Calhoun felt the pit of her stomach drop as she realized she'd have to make even it clearer. She leaned forward, and a bit down, to get to Felix's level. She debated ending the night with a kiss on the lips, but for some reason, even after all they'd been through, it seemed a bit forward, and she settled on kissing his cheek.

When she stood up again, she noticed a slight pink shade across his grinning face. She smiled back, then breathed out. "Well, I'll see you later."

Immediately, the color faded and the smile disappeared. "Oh." He frowned. "O-okay then. Good evening, ma'am." You could tell he wanted to say more, but true gentleman as he was, he simply tipped his hat and forced a smile before walking off.

Calhoun stood there a moment, collecting herself, before hurrying into her house. Guilt suddenly washed over her and she quickly grabbed a small pistol off her dresser and aimed it at the target over her bed, shooting a few shots at it, relieving the stress.

She collapsed onto her bed and groaned.

"So, he seems nice," a voice spoke, breaking the short silence.

Calhoun held her breath, and grabbed at her belt, silently cursing herself when she remembered she had removed her weapons for the evening. She sat up quickly, trying to mask her fear, and looked straight at the voice.

"Brad," She gasped out. "W-what are you doing here?"

He ignored her question "What's his name?"

"What?" She mumbled. "W-who?"

"The guy at the door," He nodded his head that way. "What's his name?"

"Well, uhm...Fix It," She managed. "Felix!"

This was impossible. Brad wasn't here. He couldn't be here! He was dead. No, worse than dead, he wasn't real. She looked more closely at him, forcing her head to stay stable. He looked real enough. Though, she noted with closer inspection, he did seem to have a holographic look about him.

They were only a couple feet apart on the bed. Calhoun dared reach out her hand to him, but immediately drew back. Whether she touched actual skin or not, she knew she wouldn't be able to handle the emotions that followed.

How was this happening? Why was this happening? She wasn't insane, right? A little crazy, maybe, but not insane. I mean, sure, she did have the occasional nightmare, and when triggered, flashbacks were pretty much inevitable, and she guessed there were a few times she had heard Brad's voice speaking to her in her head. But had she actually gotten crazy enough to actually see him, talk to him, in her own bedroom?

Maybe this was just another part of her programming. She would start out slightly strange, and then turn full blown insane, where her only mission in life would be to kill cy-bugs, even if her brain forgot to comprehend just why she was killing them.

It made sense, of course. Starting her with such an intense background would easily transform into insanity. And being insane, thus barely having a functional mind, would make her the most dangerous, but epic, fighter in the entire game.

What kind of sick bastards came up with this stuff? Her designers had to men. No way a woman would put another woman through this much emotional crap. That would explain a lot, including her big breasts.

She snapped back to reality, or what was left of it, when the hallucination spoke her name. From his tone, he must have asked her something she was too lost to hear. "What?"

"I said, 'Why didn't you invite him in'?"

She looked out from her bangs, which had covered her entire face, due to her mini freakout. What kind of question was that? Why was he even talking? Why was he even here? Back stories don't just come back to life! It doesn't work that way.

"I was just..tired." Oh, God, please let her be tired. That would make sense. Maybe this was all a dream. She was just dreaming she was talking to Brad. Then again, maybe that made this more of a nightmare.

He chuckled. "Too tired talking to yourself?"

She jerked up. Had she said that stuff out loud?

"No," He answered.

Had she said that stuff out loud? Brad chuckled again, causing Calhoun to question her sanity once more.

"You seem to really like him."

"Excuse me?"

"I know you think about him a lot," He said, again ignoring her question. "You think about me, too." He seemed more disappointed about that.

"Well..."

"So, what are you afraid of?"

"I don't-"

"You like him enough, but you keep closing him out," Brad continued. "What's holding you back?"

Calhoun looked down, running a finger across the mattress top. "Nothing."

"Oh, Tammy," He frowned. "Don't tell me."

She froze. The sound of his voice speaking her almost forgotten nickname sent a cold trickle down her spine. "What?"

"You're not actually guilty about spending time with him are you?" He asked. "Guilty that you'd be, I don't know, shutting me out or something crazy like that?"

She couldn't take it anymore. She didn't like being interrogated, especially by late fiancee's. "Well, it's better than pretending you never existed!"

"I didn't ever exist!"

"You existed in me!"

"I existed in your code," He corrected. "I am nothing but a bunch of lost binary numbers."

"Yeah, well, you're still a part of me," Calhoun insisted. "It's not like I can just move on, you know."

Brad looked flustered.

She blinked. "You..want me to move on." The question came out more like a statement.

"Look, Tammy," He said, taking her hands. Oh, God, she could actually feel him. "I don't care what's written in your code. No one, not even video game characters, should be forced to live a life they don't want to. Especially when that life is haunted by painful memories."

"So, what are you saying?" She questioned, drawing her hands back. "Are you saying I should just forget you?"

Brad juggled his hands. "Not forget me, so much as...remember what we had, I guess?" He brought a hand to her cheek. She shivered. She didn't realize how cold he had felt before. "You deserve to be happy again."

She hesitated, looking down. "What if I was only meant to be happy with you?"

"Screw what's meant to be," He answered. "You think you were actually meant to live this miserable your entire existence?"

Yes, she thought, thinking of her evil creators. She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Okay, so, you might have only been meant to love and lose by the programmers standards," He said. "But those programmers weren't prepared for your meeting with a 8-bit man from a joystick-operated game you weren't even aware existed."

Calhoun laughed, genuinely laughed, surprisingly both herself and Brad.

"Finally," He smiled. "I wasn't sure I was ever going to see that again."

"What?"

He poked lightly at her cheek, her smile. "That."

Calhoun attempted to frown, causing Brad himself to laugh.

"You should go to him," He nodded towards the door again. "You know you want to."

Calhoun looked up. The thought of Felix, how happy he made her, not only that evening, but from the moment she met him brought a small smile to her face. He was right, of course, about everything.

She hesitated, before reaching out to Brad. "Thank you."

"I didn't do anything," He answered, honestly. "It was all you."

She raised an eyebrow, questionably.

"You're still one dynamite gal," He winked, before disappearing right before her.

Calhoun's eyes burst open, as she sat up quickly, turning her head side to side. A dream. It was all a dream. It couldn't have been just a dream, could it? She rubbed her eyes and groaned. Hell, how much did she drink last night?

She stood up, feeling a sudden lightness. Not so much lightheaded, as something falling off her. At first she thought it was her last piece of sanity, but then she realized it was something much heavier. As if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. For the first time in years, she actually felt herself smiling when she woke up.

She was about to head to the kitchen, a slight skip in her step, when a knock came at her door. Curiously, she opened the door to find Felix standing there, smiling his usual smile.

"Good morning, ma'am," He said, tipping his hat. "I'm here to escort you to breakfast, which..judging by your current attire, you're not quite ready for." He averted his eyes.

Calhoun looked down at her white tank top and brown shorts. "Breakfast?"

Felix noted the question in her voice and looked up again. "You forgot about breakfast," He nodded, trying not to let it get to him. He coughed. "Look, ma'am, I'm sorry if I seemed a little too forward last night. I didn't mean to offend you in anyway, I just...we have so much fun together, that I didn't really want our, well..date to end, and I just thought-"

Calhoun shook her head, smiling slightly. "Would you like to come inside?"

Felix stopped short. "More than I'd like a slice of apple pie, ma'am."