Public Indecency.

It's a cool, clear night in Berlin. The stars are faintly visible above the fug of neon light pollution pouring from the run-down buildings of the Sozialenmarkt. Palls of smoke coil upwards from dozens of burning oil-drums to join the haze, as the homeless men and women of the flux-state huddle around them to ward off the encroaching chill. Other figures, their features either hidden in shadows of alleys and side-streets or rendered down into stark, black silhouettes as they pass in front of artificial lights go about their own clandestine business. The flux-state never really sleeps, and tonight, that's exactly what I'm counting on.

Except, frustratingly, the one person I need to be here, isn't. For the thousandth time I dig through the thick pockets of my robe and pull out a cracked handmirror, flicking it open and checking that I still look okay. A pair of wide, pretty eyes look back at me, framed by a shock of bright purple hair shaved down to the scalp on one side to show off the sharp, almost elf-like lines of my face and the gleaming datajack wired into my skull. The rough, brown garment scratches over my skin as I slide the mirror away and huddle down, pulling it tighter around my long, toned body to ward off a shiver that I know is only partly due to the chill.

"Stupid troll's probably gotten piss-drunk again." I mutter to myself. "Maybe I should just go."

No sooner than the thought leaves my mind, Sally Fasthand's face materializes in its place. The little girl's slew of curses as she fought with her weapon, the ugly grinding sound of it jamming as bullets whizzed and sang back and forth over her head. The sudden snap as she struggled to clear two Ex-Ex rounds from the chamber.

The momentary look of terror on her face, a heartbeat before the rounds detonated and blew most of her body apart. Such a stupid, pointless, wasteful way to die.

It's just an excuse, I think. Anxiety gnaws at the edge of consciousness, bombarding me with all the reasons why this won't work, why it'll go wrong, why I should just scurry off back to the safehouse and put this whole, stupid plan out of my mind for good. But then I think of Sally again, of all the plans she'd made, all the dreams and aspirations she's talked to us about, and I think - there's no reason why that couldn't happen to me. Shadowrunners die. I've been lucky so far - a couple of bullet scars across my midsection, a mangled arm that got replaced with a bit of sleek, black-chrome cyberware, and a smashed jaw that healed quite nicely making up my total of serious injuries to date - but luck doesn't last forever. If someone geeks me before I get out of this biz, I sure as hell don't want to die thinking about all the things I didn't do.

My thoughts are interrupted by a deafening cry of "Aaaayyyy!" as Dozer lumbers around a corner and into view, one hand raised in greeting. The troll's face is a pugnacious mess of horns and old scar tissue topped off by a nose that looks like it's spent more time broken than not, but there's no hiding the warm, cheerful grin on his face and the merriment that shines in his little eyes.

"Doze!" I cry back, my own face splitting into a grin of relief at the sight of him. The big lummox looks absurd. He has done ever since he managed to get an ancient early-2000's era CD/DVD disk running and found a recording of an even earlier vid-show, and started modelling himself after the lead star, complete with slicked-back hair and oversized sunglasses hanging from the pocket of a leather jacket far too small for his broad, muscular frame.

He hurries over and throws his arms around me, dragging me into the crushing warmth of his embrace. The troll really is huge - a head and shoulders taller than me at least, and at least twice as broad - and part of me purrs in contentment as his arms wrap around my slender body. It was Dozer who got me into Running in the first place. Trust can be hard to come by in the sixth world, but I trust Dozer like nobody else. I suppose tonight we'll see if that trust is misplaced.

"Cherub. Sorry I'm late. Fight broke out at the Rosenrot, you know how it is. Bloody anarchists, right?" Dozer says, chuckling. His hands roam over me - not sexually, more like a Lone Star agent searching for concealed weapons, albeit with a lot more care - but the feeling of his strong hands around my body is enough to banish the last of my worries. "You okay? You feel different."

"Oh, I'm not wearing my armour." I reply.

Dozer gives me a funny look as I toss my hair and try to look nonchalant, doing my best to hide the way I'm starting to shake with excitement. Now that he's here, everything seems so much more real - my heart skips and leaps like a pixie at a rave bar, the rough, brown robe seems to drag at my skin with every little movement, and I can feel a thin sheen of nervous sweat starting to break out across my body. Now that he's here, we can begin. Digging through my pockets, I pull out a gauzy veil and tie it around the bottom half of my face.

"Never seen you wear one of those before." Dozer remarks. "Special occasion?"

I give him a wicked grin. "I felt a bit naked tonight, that's all." Even saying the words kindles a comfortable warmth deep in my belly. How long have I been waiting to do this? Wanting to do this? Too long. As I step forwards and motion for him to follow, there's one last nervous twist, one last mental cry demanding that I stop, one last moment of hesitation, like a woman staring over the edge of a cliff - and then it passes, swept away by the mad rush of freefall.

"Doze, I can trust you, right?"

"I sure hope so." He replies. "What did you want to talk about, anyway?"

"The last run." I say. "About what happened to Sally."

Dozer's face twists into a pained grimace at the memory. He'd been next to her when her gun misfired. "Ugly bit of buisness." He said, shaking his head and sighing heavily, blowing out a great cloud of steam in front of his face. "She was a nice kid, could have been a good Runner. Gets her whole life planned out and then..."

The troll clapped his mammoth hands together, mimicking the blast that had killed the poor girl. "Didn't deserve to go like that." He adds.

I don't reply right away, and we share a moment of silence for the girl as we walk through the Sozialenmarkt. Dozer is known and recognised enough around here - most of the other people squatting around their firepits or skulking in their alleyways barely blink as he passes by, while my thick robes and veil conceal anything which might be worth looking at. Biting my lip and glancing around, I quickly reach up and loosen the hem of my robe, dragging it aside to reveal the thin sliver of pale flesh between my breasts. My hands vanish back into the deep sleeves of the robe as quickly as they emerged. Did anyone see? I look around again, studying the faces of the people around me. My heart races in my chest. But - no. Anyone who noticed didn't care enough to stare, and a mixture of relief and disappointment sweeps through me.

"Well, anyway." I say eventually. "It's just, it got me thinking."

"Ah, now, thinking." Dozer replies. "There's your problem. When you're as thick as I am - " he knocks a fist against his craggy forehead - "these things don't bother you so much. It's sad, but, hey, shit happens. You grieve and then you move on. After a while, it just washes right off, like -"

"Water off a duck's back?" I cut in.

"I was gonna say, like dead Runner off a troll's face." Dozer says with a dark chuckle.

"Doze!" I cry, giving his arm a slap that's only half playful. "That's not funny."

"Yea, I guess not. Sorry." The troll replies. His shoulders slump a little, and my moment of anger passes. Sally's death hurt him as much as it did me, no matter how he shows it. Older Shadowrunners tend to develop a bit of gallows humour for a reason, after all, and it wouldn't be fair to hold it against him. I put a hand on his massive bicep and lean my head against his arm for a moment, subtly trying to angle my body to tease him with a glimpse of cleavage. It takes a moment - his attention stolen by the sight of a 24/7 soykaf kiosk propped up along the street - but eventually he glances down and raises an eyebrow.

"Uh, Cherub?" He says slowly, one eyebrow raised. "You okay?"

"I'm too warm tonight. I needed to undo my robe a little." I give him a sly little smile. Not exactly a lie, given the warm blush I can feel spreading over my body. Dozer grunts in reply.

"Weird. I'm freezing." He says, leading me towards the kiosk. "Come on."

I feel myself growing even more excited as we stop off to get our drinks. It's manned by a spotty, awkward young orc, and as Dozer places our order, I lean against the flickering lamp-post and do my best to catch his eye. It takes a few goes, but as soon as I've caught his eye, I shake the sleeve of my robe away from my cyberware hand and run one of the black, mechanical digits down the little cleft of bare skin already revealed. He swallows hard, still absent-mindedly trying to prepare the two steaming cups as his eyes track my finger down, down, until it reaches the hem and keeps pushing. My skin tingles as the robe parts further and the cold air washes in, like a physical reminder of how exposed I am.

"That's it." My voice is the slightest of murmers, inaudible to anyone but myself. "Keep looking, keep looking. Don't you dare look away." A slice of muscular stomach is revealed, until, finally, I feel the little divot of my bellybutton. The wind tickles the sides of my breasts and gusts around my lithe form, but it does nothing to extinguish the swell of arousal building in the pit of my body as the teenager goggles at me. God, this is turning me on so much. I feel more than beautiful, or attractive, but...desirable, in a raw, animal sort of way, the knowledge that just a little bared skin can command so much attention. I lean back against the pole and begin to extend one of my legs, a glossy black boot to match the cyberware coming into view, followed by the length of my calf, and finally the long, creamy expanse of thigh. His eyes crawl inexorably up my leg, the weight of his gaze shifting deeper, to the shadowy depths still hidden in the depths of my robes...

I hiss a curse under my breath and quickly tuck my leg back in as Dozer turns around. He ambles back over and hands me a steaming cup as I look up at him, holding my breath, heart racing, stomach fluttering, waiting to see if he's going to say anything.

"Cherub, uh, I don't mean to...look, are you naked under there?" He says, slowly, realization finally dawning as we depart from the soykaf kiosk.

And there it is. As soon as the words leave his mouth, a sudden, manic smile breaks across my face. The reality of the situation seems to crystallize, like a fuzzy vid-player being tuned into clarity. Naked. I'm naked, yes. I can feel the sharp little twinges as the rough fabric of my robe pulls at my nipples, the faint scratching as it drags over my skin. Berlin's cool air whistles around my legs, the shock of it like ice against my wet folds. My robe suddenly feels so heavy, so constricting, filling me with the urge to throw it off then and there. It takes me a few moments to realize that I'm panting before I reply.

"Remember how I asked if I could trust you?" I say, my voice tight and tense with excitement. "Let's...let's just keep walking. For now, at least."

We move on, wandering into the Sozialenmarkt's main bazaar. Most of the shopkeepers and stallholders have packed up for the night, but a few persist, hawking food and drink, salvaged junk and magical nicknacks to anyone passing by. I toy with the hem of my robe with shaking fingers, alternatingly pulling it aside and tucking it back into place. There aren't so many people here, but they're far more alert than the BTL-numbed homeless populations we passed earlier, and I can feel their stolen glances at the long slice of bare skin on show crawling over me like hungry, searching fingers.

"Watching Sally getting geeked made me think about all the things I'd regret not doing if it happened to me." I blurt the words out in a sudden rush. "I mean, what's worse? Making a tit of yourself doing something you've always wanted to do, or getting shot by some CorpSec asshole and spending your last moments regretting all the things you didn't do?"

"And you've always wanted to walk around town naked?"

He doesn't even try lowering his voice. I suck in a sharp breath as a pair of dwarves look up from the battered drone they were arguing over, their eyes hard and judgmental. What are they thinking, I wonder? "Look at her, the stupid whore"? "Look at her, isn't she pretty"? "Look at her, what the hell is she doing?" Do I even care, so long as they're looking at me? As soon as we're out of earshot, I let out a long, shuddering gasp and swallow hard.

"Hells, Cherub, you're shaking like a leaf." Dozer says. He gently guides me into a dark sidestreet, his big, shovel-like hand cradling my back. "What's gotten into you? You know what Berlin's like. This is dangerous. Think about what might happen."

I do. Oh, my word, I do. Parading myself around wearing nothing but a pair of boots and a partially open robe, in a city with no law enforcement, no authorities, no-one but the flux-state's unreliable self-proclaimed peacekeeping gangs. I'm just asking to be dragged off, pushed down into the gutters and fucked, hard, right there in front of everyone...

A soft mewl of need slips free of my mouth. I grind my thighs together, shuffling on the spot, trying to quench the hot, needy pressure building inside me.

"But I have you here to protect me, don't I?" I whisper, looking up at the big troll, batting my eyelashes at him. My hands toy with the hem of my robe again. I feels like a lead weight around my body. I want rid of it, but I can't bare to take it off. Not yet. I don't know why. Some lingering doubts? Guilt, perhaps? "Could...could you open my robe a little more? Please?"

He reaches for me then pauses, his little, dark eyes staring at me. I give him the tiniest of nods, biting my lip in anticipation. And then, finally, he undoes the belt around my waist, then guides his hands up the curves of my body to my shoulders, and slides my robe backwards. The front falls open and catches on my stiff, aching nipples, baring almost my entire chest to the troll. A blast of cold air rushes in, my skin pimpling as it wraps around my bare body, rustling through the little tuft of pubic hair now proudly displayed atop my mound.

"Oh, shit." I gasp, shuddering as the wind gusts over my wetness, the moisture gathering between my lips and clinging to my thighs turning it to ice against my hot skin. I look down, staring in wonderment at the expanse of pale, naked flesh exposed to the elements. Anyone coming along the street from the other way would have no doubts about just how beautifully naked I am under the robe. The though of it is enough to leave me short of breath. "This feels so good."

"You're really getting off on this, aren't you?" Dozer replies, placing one of this thick sausage-fingers under my chin and lifting my head up to face him. "Cherub, you're nuts, you know that?"

I glance down and find myself grinning at the visible lump in Dozer's tight trousers. "Don't tell me you aren't either."

"Ah, hell." The troll grunts. "You're a pretty girl, what do you expect? You know I don't get physical with the people I Run with."

Shooting another look back over my shoulder, I spot another side-street on the other side of the plaza. Between me and there...maybe a dozen people, spread out, all busy with their own things. I could cross it in...maybe a minute, at a good stride? Could I? I look down again at myself. Just walk over there? Like this? Bared to anyone who might look? My body burns at the thought, my skin flushing with a potent, heady mixture of anxiety and arousal, liquid streaks slowly making their way down my legs at the thought of all those eyes on me...

"Doze." My voice comes out as barely more than a low rasp. "Doze, will you do something for me?"

I cut him off before he can so much as open his mouth. "Walk me across the plaza. Look, over there. It's not far."

"What if I say no?" He says.

The grin that splits my face is nothing short of manic. I'm not in control of myself any longer. What I've started - it's not going to stop, not now, not until I've taken things as far as I can. I've been teasing myself all night with little strips and flashes, but now, no matter what - this is happening, and my whole body sings with terrified anticipation. "I don't know." The words spill out giddily. "Like - like you said, Berlin can be dangerous. I'll have to take my chances."

Before Doze can reply - before any last-minute doubts can catch up with me - I spin around and begin to stride across the allyway, Dozer cursing and stumbling out after me.

No-one notices at first. Four steps out, five, and a few people look up, their glances disinterested as they turn to look at the figure encroaching upon their peripheral vision.  My heart races and I can't stop myself from shaking as I continue to stride across the plaza, my long legs carrying me inexorably onwards towards the street opposite. Disinterest turns to confusion as more eyes turn towards me. I barely look at them, stealing tiny glances as they gawp at my exposed body. It feels unreal, dreamlike, like I'm coasting through a good BTL trip, and something tells me that if I make eye contact with any of them, the spell will break and I'll bolt back the way I came. Confusion gives way as the scattering of individuals around the plaza realize what's happening. Some laugh, some turn away in disgust, others stare at me with obvious hunger, their desire only fueling the raging fire that I've set within myself.

Halfway now. Some of them step forwards, lascivious grins on their faces and hands on concealed weapons, only to back off as Dozer catches up and falls into step behind me, like a corporate catwalk model or matrix celebrity being trailed by her bodyguard. The robe slips further from my body, coming away from my narrow shoulders and falling from my breasts almost completely, baring the pert mounds to the eyes of those fortunate enough to be closer to my goal than my starting point. The garment is barely clinging onto me and billows out behind like a cloak, rippling in the air and flashing my tight buttocks. Will any of them recognize me, I wonder? I don't normally dye my hair, and the veil will help break up by appearance, but...all it would take is one person, one flash of realization, and the rumours would sweep around the Sozialenmarkt like wildfire. What would they say? Slut? Whore? Would they just write me off as crazy? Start treating me like some call girl? I don't know, and I don't care.

The robe finally slips away as I duck into the shadows of the opposite street, tumbling away to lie abandoned upon the ground. All my doubts and fears go with it. My guilt over Sally's death, my worries about how I'm going to make the next month's rent on my hideout, even the deep-rooted anger at my family that drove me into Shadowrunning in the first place - it all tumbles away. I feel so free, so liberated, naked and quivering with the rush of adrenaline as whoops, cat-calls and applause echo out of the darkness behind me.

"You're mental, chummer." Dozer says, standing at the mouth of the street, as if trying to shield me from the eyes of anyone who might have followed. "Absolutely, drop-dead mental."

I barely hear the words. My whole body sings and sizzles with arousal, the deep, weighty itch in my nethers too incessant to ignore. Need - desperate, physical need, the urge to feel another person pressed against mine, to feel the deep movement of a man's body inside my own, screams through me.

"Doze," I rasp, turning towards the wall. "Doze, I - I really need to get fucked. Now."

"I - what? Here? Now?" He exclaims, eye's wide. "Shit, Cherub, I - fuck, you know I don't, not with other Runners, it's - "

"Then pretend I'm not a Runner, just for a little while." I hiss. "Doze, either do it, or step aside and let the first guy who comes down the street to it. You've got no fucking idea how this feels."

He hovers, indecisive, then curses under his breath and steps forwards. I have to fight not to whine in gratitude as the sound of his belt being unbuckled rattles in the air. Placing my hands against the wall, I bend over and push my ass out towards him, shaking my hips invitingly.

"What if someone sees us?" Dozer mutters as he stomps around me, one hand wrapped around his cock. God, it looks like it's almost as thick as my arm. I screw my eyes shut and chew down on my lip, grinning madly at the thought.

"Fuck, let them." I gasp out as the head of his cock brushes against my slit, sending a desperate twinge coursing through my body. "Let them all crowd around and take a good look if they want..."

"Mental." He repeats, shaking his head. His cock slides up and down against my lips, slithering through the gathered wetness, making me squirm and gasp, grinding my hips backwards towards him. One of the troll's hands wraps around my buttock, squeezing and kneading the tight, pale flesh, his craggy fingernails like little, sharp points of pain next to the comforting strength of his grip. He reaches forwards and wraps his other hand around my flesh and blood one, holding on tightly as he lines himself up with my entrance, the thick head of his cock teasing my labia apart and butting gently against my entrance.

And then, with one, sudden push, it pops inside me. I let out a sound that's half a gasp, half a scream as he forces me apart, my inner walls stretching and giving way before his girth. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck." I chant the word, screwing my eyes shut as my fingers curl with delight, the cheap, crumbling synthplas giving way as the digits of my mechanical hand clutch onto it for support.

"Hells, you're tight." Dozer grunts. He slides deeper, moving slowly but stubbornly, forcing my trembling body to accept his length. I can feel it, it's heat and hardness lodged inside me, splitting me open as monstrous waves of pleasure course through my narrow body.

"God, you're huge." I choke the words out, my back arching and flexing as he burrows into my wetness. "Never been with - ah, shit, with a troll before."

The dense, curly hair that clings to his legs tickles the back of my thighs as he finally fits the last few inches of his cock inside me. We rest there for a moment, getting used to the feeling of our bodies entwined. Dozer pulses steadily inside me, the thick stick of meat impaling my form throbbing in time with his slow, heavy heartbeat, the intensity of the penetration drowning out every other sensation. And then, with the same slow pace with which he completed our union, he begins to withdraw, my labia dragging against the sides of his cock as he begins to pull back, leaving me panting and gasping, my body already aching at the fleeting departure.

Dozer's next thrust is not so gentle. Now that he knows I can take him, he thrusts back into me with force, drawing a strangled cry from my mouth and a wet sound from my aching, sodden pussy. I spread my legs wider and push back against his thrusts with my hips, digging my mechanical fingers deeper into the wall as he starts to fuck me in earnest, battering my slender, almost fragile compared to his, form with relentless, mechanical force. He pulses and twitches, his weighty, hairy balls slapping against my clit as he pounds into my shaking body, driving me even further into ecstasy.

"We've got an audience." He grunts. I open one eye, and true enough, a pair of young men are lingering at the end of the street, barely a few meters away. I give them a coy look and the dirtiest grin I can muster before turning away, giving voice to another cry of pleasure as Dozer' shifts his angle, his prick stretching me out and grinding relentlessly over my most sensitive spots.

It's something that can't last. My body was tense with arousal long before we stepped into the street. We're not making love, there's no foreplay - just a quick, dirty fuck in a nameless sidestreet, and I can feel my climax coming up on me fast and hard. I match Dozer's pace, thrusting back onto this hulking cock in time with his movements, driving myself relentlessly towards orgasm. It hits like a punch to the gut, a short, sharp blast of pure pleasure that crashes through my writhing body. I throw my head back, flipping sweat from the lank crest of purple hair dangling in front of my face, luxuriating in the hungry gazes of the two onlookers as the crushing waves of sensation smash through me and begin to recede.

"Not gonna last much longer." Dozer's voice is thick and strained, and I can feel him beginning to twitch inside me, his monstrous prick seconds away from flooding me with his seed. In one smooth motion I slide off him and turn, dropping to my knees and yanking the veil free, face raised towards the swollen head of his cock. The big troll gets the message and wraps on meaty fist around his length, angling it down towards me and pumping hard. Two, three, four strokes of his hand and he reaches his own peak, spilling thick, stringy ropes of pungent seed over the narrow lines of my face, pearly drops catching in my hair or dripping onto my waiting tongue. Craning fowards, I wrap my lips around his head, milking the last few drops of come from his cock and washing him clean of our mixed fluids with my lapping tongue.

"Holy fuck, that was intense." One of the kids at the end of the street mutters. I turn to him and grin, long strings of the troll's come still dripping from my face.

"Show's over, guys. Scram." I say. They scarper as Dozer waves them off, still chattering excitedly to one another.

"Right." He says, belting his trousers back up and tossing me my discarded robe. "Show's over, like you said. We're going home."

Still grinning like a lunatic and lost in the heady afterglow of fading arousal, I pull the robe back on and get back up on shaking legs. Dozer slips an arm around my waist to keep me steady.

"You, uh, gonna wipe that up?" He says, pointing to the mess clinging to my face. I can feel it drying in the Sozialenmarkt's cool wind, still taste his thick, bitter flavour on my tongue. I lap at some of the glistening trails clinging to my lips and give him my best smile as we start the walk home.

"Nope. Not until we get back to base."

He shakes his head and laughs. "Like I said. Mental."