Title: Ginger Ale
Chapter: Oneshot/Ficlet
Type: Fanfiction
Fandom: Ergo Proxy
Character(s): Real, Vincent, Pino
Genre: General, Humor
Word Count: 585
Notes: For mefiant (and berserkerm).
Summary: Real needs a break.

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Ginger Ale

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Real stared at the door, willing it to remain closed. Taking a swig of her ginger ale, she allowed her mind to relax. Relaxation – a rare phenomenon now that she had taken up with two supremely annoying traveling partners. She missed Iggy – missed having her hair brushed – missed having her food prepared for her by a competent Autorave. She heard a thump – the ungraceful stumbling of that bumbling fool who was in love with her – and prayed that he would pass by the little room she had holed herself up in.

“Real-san?”

She winced.

“Real-san, where are you?”

She tipped her cup and swallowed. The door rattled. She pulled the bottles to her body and inched closer to the wall. The door opened.

“Real-san! We’ve been looking all over for you!”

She ignored him and took another drink. He tilted his head at her, rugged hair flopping with his movement. His green eyes were unnatural in the dim light. They shouldn’t have glinted like that. She smooshed her back against the wall some more.

“Real-san?”

God, imagine waking up to that whiny voice every morning.

“What are you doing?”

She didn’t answer him. He looked at her like she was insane, eyes locking on her bottles of ginger ale. So, she liked a certain drink – so what? She poured herself another cup.

“Real-Real!” another uninvited voice shouted, tone bubbling with exuberance. “Real-Real, Pino made you breakfast!”

Real wanted to vomit at the thought.

“Not hungry,” she grumbled, earning a scowl from the tiny Autorave.

“Real-san,” Vincent began sheepishly, taking a step towards her. She could see the exasperation hidden clearly behind his false cheerfulness. Once upon a time, he had worshipped her. Now, he still worshipped her (rightfully so), but he was also privy to her so-called faults. Thus, the apparent exasperation. It was annoying.

“Go away, Vince,” she said icily, fixing him with a dark glare.

He stared at her for a minute, the hint of something dark and serious in his eyes. She poured herself another cup so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“Real-san, those bottles have been empty since last night.”

She glanced at the bottles of ginger ale, shocked at the revelation. Perhaps, that’s why the taste was no longer satisfying. Embarrassed, she pushed her mind to lay the blame on stress, and since stress was the cause, that also meant that it was Vincent’s fault. She threw a bottle at his feet – a warning.

The sound of shattering glass sent Pino skittering out the doorway. Vincent took a deep breath.

“Real-san…”

Slam.

Real jumped.

Click.

Vincent looked ready to cry.

“Pino won’t let you out until you’re nice to Vince, Real-Real!” a voice piped shrilly. “You have to be a nice Real-Real, and then you can eat Pino’s breakfast!”

Part of Real wanted to crush the Autorave in her fist, the other part of her wanted to gun Vincent down right away. But Pino was out of reach and she didn’t have her gun. She cursed. Why hadn’t Pino just locked her up by herself? That would have been an ideal situation. Why had she locked Vince in here? Said man was currently staring at her like some frightened child, his back pressed up against the door. She grinned evilly and kept drinking her ginger ale.

“So, you want me to be nice?”

His face turned red and his whole body tensed up. She wondered if it was possible to kill the man with kindness.

END.