Harem Apocalypse: Every Moan Levels Us Up!

Becky kept her eyes on the road, hands firm on the wheel, her blonde braid resting against the bare skin of her back like a thick golden rope. Sunlight streamed through the windshield, catching on the curve of her shoulder and the side of her breast as she drove. The leather seat creaked faintly beneath her with every small shift of her hips.

I started working through my clothes in the passenger seat. Jeans first, the denim dragged roughly over my thighs, catching slightly on damp skin. She reached up without a word and angled the rearview mirror away from me, giving me the courtesy of not watching.

Then she pulled over abruptly onto the shoulder, tires crunching on loose gravel.

"What?" I asked, one leg already in my pants.

"You were struggling," she said, turning to look at me fully. Her bare breasts shifted with the movement, nipples still tight from the AC.

"You’re talking like you’re fully dressed," I said, yanking the jeans up over my hips.

She glanced down at herself — completely naked, thighs pressed against the warm leather, one hand still on the wheel — and gave a small, genuinely curious shrug.

"What exactly would I be hiding?" she asked.

I looked at her. The smooth line of her stomach, the faint tan lines from wherever she usually trained, the way her body sat comfortably against the seat like she had already accepted the absurdity of the situation.

"I appreciate the pair," I said.

Her hand moved. The leather beneath me suddenly went ice-cold, a sharp jolt racing up my spine as I pulled my pants the rest of the way up.

"Stop that," I said, voice tight.

She started laughing, bright, unrestrained, shoulders shaking so her breasts moved with it. The seat returned to normal temperature instantly.

Material transmutation used for pettiness, which was either a waste of a level eight ability or the best use of it I had seen yet.

"Why are you laughing?" I asked, pulling my shirt over my head.

"You’re good," she said, still smiling as she pulled back onto the road. "Really good. The way you handled Mrs. Rivers." She shook her head, braid swaying against her bare back. "I was genuinely worried about getting a new partner who wasn’t Max. But I like you already."

"High praise," I said, adjusting my shirt.

"Are you done?" she asked, glancing over.

"Yeah."

She accelerated smoothly, still completely naked behind the wheel. The capital moved past the windows in a steady flow of glass towers and traffic, sunlight glinting off windshields and buildings.

"Don’t tell me you’re driving back like that," I said.

She was already merging into traffic, one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on her bare thigh.

"Our destination isn’t far," she said, completely unbothered.

I looked out at the capital reassembling itself around us and decided this was not a battle worth having.

"Lucky the windows are tinted," I said.

She laughed again, the free, bright kind that shook her shoulders and made her breasts move with it. "I haven’t laughed like this in a while. I don’t know what it is about you." She pulled over on a busy stretch of the capital, tires scraping against the curb, and started dressing right there in the driver’s seat. "I think everyone should drive through a city naked at least once."

"Where are my undies?" she muttered, fishing under the seat, ass lifting slightly as she reached.

"I had you pegged as the quiet type," I said, pulling my own shirt on.

"I am quiet. Depends on the person and the mood." She yanked her shirt over her head, blonde braid whipping as it came through the collar. "What else did you think of me?"

"Nothing else," I said.

"I used to think about you and Sherry," she said, fastening her braid back with quick fingers. "After Bala separated you from the group. I kept asking Max if he remembered the starving boy."

"Who’s the starving boy?"

She tapped my chest once, right over my heart. "The walls have made you forget how you looked at the gate. You were genuinely starving to death. I felt sorry for you." A pause. "You look different now."

"I know," I said.

She laughed softly. "What do you think of me?"

"Royal," I said.

She smiled at that, a real one that reached her eyes. Then: "Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Good. I’m having lunch with my CGI partner." She opened her door and reached into the back seat, pulling out her sword with a smooth motion.

"We’re not going anywhere with a sword," I said.

She slid it onto her back anyway and stepped out.

I got out and followed her down the busy street. The sword rested between her shoulder blades, blonde braid swinging with every step, completely unbothered by the stares and double-takes she was drawing from pedestrians. Heads turned. Conversations faltered. She walked like none of it touched her.

She led me to a quiet restaurant on the corner and pushed the door open.

"Royal," she repeated with a small, private smile as we stepped inside. "I like that."

The cool air of the restaurant washed over us, carrying the scent of fresh bread and roasted meat. The hostess looked up, eyes widening slightly at the sword on Becky’s back, but said nothing as she led us to a table.

We sat across from each other at a small table near the window. Sunlight cut through the glass in a sharp, slanted blade. The restaurant hummed around us, low conversations, the clink of silverware, the scrape of chairs, the ordinary rhythm of people who had no idea what lived beyond the walls.

"Bread and meat," Becky told the waitress without looking at the menu. The girl nodded and disappeared.

"Does it ever strike you?" I asked, eyes drifting across the room. People eating, laughing, gesturing with forks. "That everyone in here is just... living. Like there’s nothing out there."

"I don’t have time to wonder about things like that," she said, leaning back slightly. The motion made her blonde braid slip over her shoulder, catching the light.

I looked at her.

"What?" she asked, one eyebrow lifting.

"Is this how you were with your old partner?" I said. "Max seems like a patient man."

"He is," she replied, fingers tapping once against the table. "He just doesn’t like you."

She said it lightly, but the truth sat right beneath the surface.

"Max loves most people," she added. "You’re a specific exception. I don’t know why. I’ve found you perfectly decent."

"I don’t love him so much either," I said, keeping the same register. "But I like his sister well enough."

She smiled, small, genuine, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

The waitress returned with a basket of warm bread and set it between us. Steam curled upward in thin, fragrant threads. Becky tore off a piece immediately, the crust crackling under her fingers.

She picked up her glass of water and held it up.

"First day together and I’ve already seen your dick and you’ve seen my pussy," she said, voice low enough that only I could hear, but carrying just enough edge to make it dangerous. "Nothing hidden between partners. That’s the best foundation there is."

I picked up my own glass. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

"To a good partnership," I said.

"To a good ride," she answered, and we touched glasses with a clear, ringing clink.

The water was cold going down. Becky’s eyes stayed on mine over the rim of her glass, a spark of amusement and something sharper behind them. She set the glass down, tore another piece of bread, and leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table, the movement pulling her shirt tighter across her chest.

The restaurant continued its quiet rhythm around us, completely unaware of the two CGI agents sitting half-dressed in memory, now fully dressed in fact, already bound by a shared secret and the promise of more to come.