As if time itself had stopped around this very moment, '45 cataloged this within the deepest portions of her DigiMind. It was something she ensured she would never forget. The deer itself soon became inconsequential to the connection that the two of them shared, and the animal faded into the backdrop like so many of the white flakes descending around them. She could feel every artificial heartbeat and the flow of energy it sent to her body, all of which was concentrated around a single point. Humming with excitement, she flexed her fingertips; dragging them against the doe's muzzle and leaving four tiny furrows in its coarse fur. They shifted until locked into place with '40's opposing pair, and it was then that she took her own picture. One of her partner's face, framed against the snow with their outstretched hands connected atop the animal.

Each detail was captured in immaculate detail, and it would be not a short while later that she was rushing to put it into permanence inside a picture frame. It was if her skin sparkled in the light that haloed around them, and every small shift of her head left '45 with a different breathtaking perspective. Soon, all the world around them faded to black until it was only '40 and her standing there, alone with their fingers entwined and their gazes met. She wasn't perfect, no, but she would do her best to make '40 proud. It wasn't about the Commander, or their mission, or any of that. Not at this moment. It was about the doll in front of her, who took her from the brink of despair and showed her that there was more to the world than their minuscule existence, was someone worth fighting for.
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Even though they were alike in both chassis and formatting, they couldn't be more different - where '45 was hesitant and doubtful, '40 was confident and straightforward, and where she was depressive and moody, the other was sunny and always had a smile on her face. It was a wonder how they got along so well, and yet here they were, sharing a moment even some humans never experienced. "Work? You and I both know that we spend most of our days sitting around the Command Center with nothing to do," she said, a hollow laugh following her words. She took a moment to collect herself, sparing one last glance at the deer before looking past her brown bangs and into the other's eyes.

"'40 I... I believe in you. You're my teacher now, and I know you'll help me get better. We'll both get better and help each other. So someday, when we're successful and going on lots of missions, we'll have newer, better bodies where we can really do some good," she said with confidence filling her voice and a smile creeping back onto her face. It was a stark contrast to the crumbling concrete around them, and even to the doe who had since started to graze once more - its curiosity for the pair of moving, metallic objects lost. Despite their contact with the animal being lost, '45 made a new one; fully locking their fingers together and looking up at her mentor. Her golden hues were bright and full of warmth, but as the moment crept forward, a doubt entered her gaze. How was she to proceed? With the doe idling away from them, the pair still had a "mission" to complete. '45 was truly lost, and her irises twitched around '40's face in search of the answer.



It always came back to this; phalanges intertwined, fingertips grazing benevolently against eachother, palms sealed in a tender embrace, the two of them always found a way to hold on to one another in some fashion. It was foolish, believing themselves capable of such a connection, a jole so miserably pitiful that they couldn't even understand how wrong they were. Yet, if that was the case, why did their hands fit together so well? If it was wrong and truly impossible as some would claim, then what caused that magnetic click between them? Every touch, every look, every word said and unsaid pulled them closer and closer together. Soon, they'd be inseparable, pulled into a perfect orbit around eachother's own precious world. If 40 held the radiance of the sun, then 45 eclipsed such brilliance with all the sobriety of the moon, their shared bond molding the earth between them.

Her fingers twitched, the muscles beneath her skin daring to flex, only to stop midway. 40 hesitated. Something was off. The situation was dangerous; That was what every logical process of her DigiMind computed. She had to move on to the mission, they had work to complete. This wasn't the time nor place for such action. Every little click and whirl inside her head resounded in her ears, an earthquaking pound that left her only the faintest bit shaken. That 'queer' feeling from before rose again with a vengeance. She couldn't tear her gaze away from those vibrant amber wells.
Again her fingers dared to clench, met with violent resistance from her logic circuits. She mustn't do it. They could never go back afterwards if she did. The way things were right now between them would be shattered and broken if she gave in to such temptation. How could she be an effective mentor, if she caved in so readily to her own irresponsible whims? What kind of example would she be leaving to 45? With any luck, it would be a clear picture of freedom, willpower, and the near human ability to choose for one's own. Her grasp on her companion's hand compressed.

"I think that's supposed to be my line, you know." 40 chuckled, bringing herself dauntingly closer. She dared to invade 45's space, breathe her very air, and defy everything inside her that pleaded with her to stop. In that moment, she knew what that feeling finally was. She wasn't about to waste such a gift. Leaning in, her eyes closed, pushing off her toes to press her lips against her beloved partner's.



Each second caused another string of doubt to enter her mind and with each passing moment, she feared she might have stepped too far. Who was she, a simple Tactical Doll resigned to a life of servitude in human conflicts, to feel such things? It went against nearly every core function she possessed, save for one. The one gift that human beings did gift T-Dolls with that made them more than nonautonomous killing machines - emotions. It was something that could be turned on and off at their will, yet it was the one thing that made them as close to human as they would ever get. It took '45 this long to realize that these were emotions she was feeling, rather than her body reacting to the environment. No, that wasn't quite right either. Her body was responding, but not to the tundra around them. All of these feelings, these emotions, rested on a single thing. An individual so similar to her that it caused others to double-take, yet she completed '45 in a way that nothing else could compare to.

Every shift of '40's body caused her breath to catch as if a divinity were gracing her presence. What was happening now was more real than that, and more real than anything programmed within her. It was something that, rain nor snow could ever tarnish, and she found herself wishing that it would go further. But, should it? No, it couldn't. '45's DigiMind whirled as if screaming in protest to what was going on, but for just this moment she ignored it. Even with her depression urging her to let go, that things would never be as she wished, she ignored it. It felt as if her very core were going to beat out of her chest and leave her body behind, and she could only clamp down on '40's hands to steady herself.
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She could see the other's eyes searching her face, looking for an answer that she too sought. Was this it? Was she it? Before '45 could conclude what these feelings meant, '40 answered all of her questions for her. It took her a second to process what was going on, and then the world itself faded to grey aside from two vibrant energies within the room. The soft embrace of her partner's lips was met with her own, and '45's DigiMind very nearly crashed on the spot. Their texture was indescribable, and she couldn't find a word for her taste other than fantastic. After the initial shock faded, her eyelids masked the vibrant light of her irises, and she leaned into the embrace. Body pressed against body in synchronous harmony, and, despite her somewhat smaller stature, they fit together perfectly.

Quickly finding something to do with her other hand, she brushed the textured surface of her glove against '40's cheek; rugged leather grazing her skin as if touching the most delicate of flowers. '45 finally found a word for that sensation she was feeling earlier. It was love.



It wasn't until after she'd started, that the worry started to hit her. Was she going too fast? Had she been too pushy? 40 wasn't even sure her conveyed emotions would reach 45, let alone be returned. She hadn't taken a second to stop and consider how that girl might have felt at all. The nervous anxiety over whether or not she'd be accepted afterwards kept her frozen in place, her processors drumming loudly in her ears. 45 hadn't moved either. This was bad, really bad. She'd done it now! She'd screwed up the only good thing she had, betrayed the trust put in her as a coach and mentor, taken advantage of a girl who wanted nothing more than to better and improve herself and-- Before she knew it, a hand graced her cheek, and all of that internal worry and fear melted away with the snow that would turn into spring.

Body to body, skin to skin, tied together at the mouth, she remained. The tension in her shoulders was shed, her posture becoming relaxed as they shared this moment in time. The snow seemed to land still in the air, the wind coming to a halt, and even the grazing doe behind them becoming broken and unmoving in this temporal fragment. It may have very well lasted no more than a few seconds, but that time was sure to stretch out before them, giving them both the grace of longevity.
Be it long or short, this was a memory 40 would cherish, always. Nothing would take this precious time away from her. She clasped onto the hand cupping her face, not only to keep it, but guide it, her thumb rubbing circles into the leather backing. Everything, every milisecond that managed to tick away, was recorded. How she felt, tasted, and smelled, all to be listed and become a part of her eternal memory too. What contrast would 45 provide to the bright, warm citrusy sunshine that 40 gave off? Were her lips veleteen soft? The lingering taste of her last drink, the warmth of her skin, did 45 pay attention to these too? She could only wonder.

However, despite how much she would have loved to remain there forever, such a thing simply wasn't possible. They were soldiers, and right now they were supposed to be training. With a heavy heart, 40 broke away first, her eyes remaining closed for a short time afterwards. "Well, enough extra curricular material for now. We gave a server to crack into."

Nothing in her programming had quite prepared her for a moment such as this. All of the feelings and sensations that coursed through her body made her feel more alive than even combat itself, the very thing she was built from the ground up to do. The feel of the other's lips strongly complemented the soft touch of her skin, with '45's uncovered fingertips stroking her pearlescent cheek. It was like everything she'd ever dreamed of and more, except this was no dream. The bitter bite of the cold air reminded her of that fact, just as the warmth of '40's lips reminded '45 of her fantasies that had come to life.

It was a wonder that they didn't stay they forever, locked in a sonorous embrace the echoed the depth of care in each of their hearts. Once again, '45 couldn't help but feel they were made for each other — soulmates without souls bonded by nothing but their hearts and minds. Even their real purpose, masked from both sight and memory, didn't influence this connection. It was something raw and beautiful that they created for themselves without any outside influence.
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She cherished the moment for as long as it lasted, and though they were only together for a brief few moments, it felt like an eternity. Chapped lips aching from hours out in the cold greeted her partner, though they weren't cold themselves; their taste akin to the sweetest of honey, mixed with the sugary freshness of a soda she had some hours prior. The rough of her lips with that sweet taste was almost a betrayal of her personality — a dour, tired exterior that somehow complimented a gentle heart that few dolls could hope to possess.
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Her tongue begged to roll along her lips and taste the warmth left behind by the other, and it was only then that she realized they had parted. With heavy lids, her eyes opened, halfway obscuring the deep golden irises just beyond, and she stared up into the face of her soulmate. It was just like her to crack a joke after a moment like that, and it brought a rare smile to the doll's lips. "If this was part of the training... I'd pass you with flying colors," she returned, slowly collecting her sense. Briefly looking away as if checking her weapon, '45 grazed her tongue across her lips to capture the last of '40's sunny warmth, wishing she could hold onto it until the end of her days. Which, in all actuality, she could. The sensations she felt then were stored away in her long-term storage and the files marked in such a way that they would never be deleted.

"I guess I'm on point," she said, hands reaffirmed on her weapon. Though her posture was still off and her stance all wrong, she walked with more confidence than she ever had before. A quick look around told her the deer had retreated through the snowy tunnel; all that was left in this space was the two dolls and the memory of what happened. '45 took one last photograph of '40 standing behind her, eclipsed by the snow wall to her rear and the light shining through it. She was absolutely perfect. Only giving her mentor a moment to ready herself, '45 was out of office and back into the hallway; setting up to breach the server farm door on '40's signal.