AI Era: Bots are People Too

She glanced down and let a shiver run down her body as her skin adjusted to the late August heat. With the worst of summer faded, she avoided heavy use of the air conditioning in her condo unit. But she couldn't control the common spaces, and she'd been regularly outvoted over its aggressive use in the building. Oh well. It did help her avoid the need to pay for electricity for the AC for her place and so long as it didn't force the common fees up she'd live with it. And thanks to that AC in the halls and the elevator, her nipples were even more rampant than they'd been. Beyond its fit, she enjoyed this shirt's feel and she wondered if she could make herself cum with just its pressure.

She pulled Lachlan close and he settled next to her as they walked. The Impala was a six block walk and were this a Friday or Saturday, the sidewalks wouldn't be more crowded. And even though she'd aimed toward the extreme end, she was only in the middle of the curve when it came to exposure. And despite the snug fit of his clothes and his lovely crotch, Lachlan was practically overdressed compared to some of the other guys! Not that she really cared what other dudes were wearing.

She wondered. It can't have been that everyone had their own Marie Sexless that had driven them to make this effort tonight. The area was never 'dead,' a major reason she'd chosen her place, but it was unusually heavy for a Wednesday. Then again, September loomed. It wasn't like the weather would change overnight, but had that driven everyone to hit the streets and avoid as much clothing as possible? Whatever it was, she adopted a strut and made sure her posture displayed her assets in their best light. She had zero interest in actually attracting anyone, but she wasn't going to back down either. Unlike plenty in her past, her escort wouldn't feel the need to play up his 'ownership.' Somewhere in her brain was that slight sense of relief that she'd lost the need to have the one she was with to prove that using... well, fists. She preferred not to dwell on those days. She squeezed his hand and he returned the pressure.

They traded greetings with local acquaintances. She hadn't arranged with any dearer friends to meet this evening, any encounters that would require inviting them to join or them to invite her was unlikely. That was good. She wanted to be OUT, but not have to be ON. Lachlan could discuss subjects from philosophy to sports, she loved basketball but it wasn't yet in season, she paid conditional attention to the local baseball team if they made the playoffs but this year the dog days had likely put paid to those hopes. He commiserated when she whinged and jabbered about work or her family. But he could also stay silent and simply be present. Spontaneity was his weak spot, but even in the last few weeks he'd improved. His menu plan for the last week had been sprung on her, he'd watched her eat since they'd gotten together and had heard her 'complain' about improving it, although it'd been more muttering than actual statements and was a complaint she'd have never acted on unilaterally, and he'd come up with and put his plan into action. Bastard! She squeezed his hand again.

A group of ten dudes and dudettes a few years younger came toward them, walking in the middle of the street. Certain streets in the area weren't friendly to wheeled conveyance, so they unfortunately weren't daring fate in that way. Clothing was skimpy but fortunately for most of the crowd that wasn't an issue. A couple of them should've known better, but, Viv thought, body positivity was a phrase her marketing group used although it wasn't an easy reflex for her. But that paled in her reason for annoyance.

It was their singing.

Or, was it singing? It was a current hit for a girl group quintet, everything about them a cunningly conceived and executed plan by marketing executives. Viv hated their music but recognized the skill of their puppet masters, she'd've done the same in their shoes. But take a crappy, over-produced song and put it in the mouths of ten tone deaf fools who'd apparently started their drinking in the mid-afternoon, and the experience neared torture for anyone unfortunate enough to be in earshot. Viv read the scowls and shaken heads around her. As the group neared, she saw a few people with active commeras pointed at the dectet, the current online ethos said hateviews counted as much or even more than admiring views. Her expression changed to a soft smile.

"Lachlan," she said and looked him in those violet eyes when he responded, "it's a song evening! You should do 'Some Enchanted Evening.' Full volume."

She kept them walking. It wouldn't bother him.

"I'll keep everyone out of our way," Viv added, "it'll get us to the restaurant!"

It was much older than the dectet's song, but not all that odd a choice. Lachlan's speaking voice rode the boundary of tenor and baritone, and his singing voice ranged across both. He hit the opening syllables with his voice pitched to the lower register. Heads snapped toward them as she fought her grin down to a sultry smile as her eyes made clear to open the path for them to continue.

The dectet faltered, a few of them tried to keep going but loss of attention that was almost choreographed pushed them to silence. Their formerly bunched group attenuated as a few slowed to look at their competitor.

His song had first appeared decades earlier and had been recorded by hundreds of artists. But its current prominence was due to a new movie version of "South Pacific" that'd updated the story to involve the humanoid aliens long-rumored to be spying on Earth. They'd switched some genders and reworked things so a male corpsman had sung to the mysterious woman who owned a plantation on the island with whom there'd been a mutual but unsteady courtship. It later turned out she was an alien spy genetically altered to appear human.

As she'd known he would, even unaccompanied he'd hit the opening notes perfectly. She knew many if not most of the young trendies would've seen the movie, as had she and Lachlan. It was a blazing hit, and their expressions registered their recognition that Lachlan's version was good. Very good, to Viv's ears, and expressions confirmed she wasn't alone in that thought.

Her strut kicked up a notch as she wrapped her arm around his, to the point she regretted she hadn't worn less casual clothes and wild heels. Sneakers just didn't convey the right attitude!

Jaws dropped and commeras moved to follow them as he sang, Viv assumed at least a few were sending this directly to the internet rather than just recording, live got the eyeballs, delayed uploading brought no benefit beyond the slightest 'I was there, too' claim. Despite that, a plan firmed in her mind.

Lachlan's expression made clear she was his 'stranger.' She could no longer block it, her smile broadened. They left the glares of the dectet behind and followers accreted, most of whom were like her, always looking for blogging material. And what better than an impromptu, pitch-perfect song on a city street!

Her smile morphed slightly when they made it to two steps short of their target when she stopped them and they rotated slightly. He raised his right arm as he delivered the final "never let her go." Viv's mouth broke into a grin as everyone not holding a commera applauded. Those devices had to display a tiny blue LED when they were recording and she stopped counting once into double digits.

"His name's Lachlan," Viv said, "L A C H L A N, make sure you get it right!"

Many in the audience laughed but there was a quick, second round of applause.

"We'll be eating dinner, now," she resumed after the applause "thank you."

"Glad you all enjoyed it," Lachlan added. Then he nudged Viv to turn her head to give her a languid kiss. That got them another round of applause and laughter, Viv liked the sour looks of those who'd lowered their commeras too quickly. She caught the eye of one she knew that'd been with them since the off-key crowd and gave her a nod. The woman nodded back and worked her way to stand next to Viv as the others moved on to find their next entertainment.

"Send me the video, Deb? I'll give you credit."

"Sure, Viv, on one condition," Viv's mouth went to an 'O' as Deb gestured toward Lachlan, "one hour. Me and him. Locked in my bedroom."

Viv squinted. Deb was about her age, did sales for some tech firm. A tongue ran quickly against a pale red upper lip as dark eyes locked on the singer's crotch. "C'mon, Viv, just an hour. Well, I'd take two... or three... but that'd probably kill me. I'm way out of practice for THAT much exercise! But I'd be happy to go that way. Or..."

Viv tilted her head at the theatrical pause before Deb continued. "Does he have a brother?"

Viv smiled broadly. "As a matter of fact..." She let the statement trail off and Deb grinned.

"I'll send you the file," Deb said and kissed Viv on the cheek, "get me his email! And pictures. Preferably nude."

She skipped off with a wave. Viv shook her head. She turned them and looked into the softly lit foyer, their spot just outside it brighter from a nearby streetlight. Despite the crowds on the street, the Impala didn't seem packed. She took a moment to register the new hostess. She must've just switched, Viv took a second moment to pull the name Noreen from a cubbyhole; they'd encountered each other. Somewhere. A specific tone in her ear, she raised an eyebrow.

"Lachlan," he looked at her, "go in and tell Noreen we'll need a table for two. I'll just be a moment."

He nodded and kissed her and stepped through a door that'd been braced open. Noreen looked up from behind her wooden stand and smiled broadly at him, then glanced toward the door as Lachlan pointed. Viv waved quickly then pointed to her ear, the new, universal sign for an invisible phone call. Even the street loonies had learned it, when you looked at them as they jabbered they'd point to their ears. Oh, not a crazed, possibly cannibalistic nutter, but a businessperson handling a phone call that'd decide the flow of millions of dollars. The confluence of that thought with something that happened to the hostess's face caused a hitch in Viv's voice, but that was quickly overwhelmed.

"Sluggo, connect, hey, Aleisha, what's up?"

"Holy shit, girl, did that really just happen?" Aleisha's voice was fast and joyous.

"Did what happen?" Viv conveyed as much confused innocence as she could manage.

"Get fucked," Aleisha said with continued amusement, "that sidewalk singdown. Was sittin' here working on my blog, got an alert for your nabe, grabbed the stream. I'm no artiste, but you know damned well I can sing, a stage mom and a decade of lessons. What I just saw and heard... that was..."

Viv let the silence hang as she looked into the Impala. Noreen was somewhere late-twenties or maybe thirty, her blonde hair softly curled and pulled into a loose ponytail that gave her beautiful face a prominent position. She had a smile that a young woman offered a man when she... and the fingers of her right hand danced along Lachlan's bare skin of his left arm just below the sleeve. Viv's smile was tight as she reran memories. She'd not been with Lachlan when she'd previously encountered Noreen, at whichever of the woman's previous employers they'd met. The blonde's job called for her to be friendly, a warm presence, it didn't call for her to step from behind the podium that reached to breasts that, although not quite Diana's ridiculous globes, weren't far off. Viv's weren't small, but compared to this chick's, a size battle was unwinnable. Breasts that were well-displayed by a shirt tighter than the staff usually wore, with more opened buttons than usual. She shuffled to stand close to Lachlan. A position that meant, with his height, her face and cleavage were both in direct line of view.

"Hey, Viv?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry, dealing with getting dinner. Felt like going out."

"Well, you're looking hot, girl, and so's your boy! But, that song..."

"I told you he could sing."

"You did. But... That's not... singing. That was... art."

"Uh, what?"

"Bad singers, like that pack, only hit notes by accident. Mediocre singers hit most notes they need to hit and nothing else. Really good singers... wander a bit, add touches here and there. Great singers sing whatever notes they want and make the song fit those notes. That's what I just heard."

Viv's eyes tightened as Noreen snuggled closer to Lachlan, who stood with his back to the door, his left hand rested lightly on Noreen's right shoulder. Although blocked from Viv's view, her right arm offered a perfect position to find his crotch.

"Um, oh, you said Nathan sings, right? He the same?"

"Nothing close, Viv," Aleisha's voice was deliberate and serious, "Nathan's on the border of being good, he might add a touch here and there, but it's not a deliberate reworking. And that's not the only thing I've noticed about Lachlan...."

Viv wondered if Noreen was going to drop her slacks and bend over right there in the dimly lit vestibule. The girl was probably an actress, area service jobs were rife with such pretenders, and simply playing at this. But, if so, she was good. Too good to need a hostess position at an upscale but not top-rank restaurant. Lachlan hadn't moved away, but Viv didn't expect him to. His left hand hadn't moved from its light perch on her shoulder, his right arm moved in apparent rhythm with whatever he was saying that had Noreen occasionally laughing.

"Um, okay, hey, Aleisha," Viv's brain was torn, "I'll, uh, call you later tonight. I need to deal with something. Quick question, you post bail for me if I need it?"

"Uh, sure, babe, be fine. But, why?"

"Might need to beat a bitch down, and you know me, I don't do these things halfway."

"Sure, uh, just be caref---."

Viv disconnected the call with a tap. Her temper had gotten her into more than one scrap, but it'd been years. Aside from the impressive tits and shapely ass, the blouse and slacks didn't offer confirmation of the girl's firmness. Viv had never thought about true fighting skills until she'd met Gina, but there was a way that woman carried herself that Viv didn't see in most women or men. And didn't think she saw it now in the slightly shorter blonde. She took a slow breath before she sauntered into the building. Sneakers were well named, it was easy to move silently. She flowed into place on Lachlan's right side and slid her left arm around his right as she spoke in a husky voice.

"Hey, lover, thanks for holding the fort, got us a table?" She stretched to kiss him quickly as his head turned. He shifted slightly to tighten against her and edge away from Noreen.

The immediate expression from the hostess was, unless Viv misinterpreted it, something atavistic. From before humans became humans. But then the mask firmed and a smile formed. But the hostess didn't pull away.

Viv concluded the slut wasn't acting. That flashed expression simply had too much behind it. Viv sighed. She just wanted a quiet dinner and a drink, not to have to grab this whore by the base of that ponytail and repeatedly smash her face into the top of her podium.

"Noreen says we can have a nice table," Lachlan said, his voice not quite guileless, "she just said it'll take them a few minutes to clear."

"Is that right?" Viv's voice was low and slow. From the foyer it was a left turn to the dining room, the entrance had curtains either side of a wide gap that allowed her a partial view. "Doesn't look so busy."

Noreen pressed a bare arm. "We'll go check, will we Lachlan? Viv can wait here."

So. It was going to be ponytail grabbing face smashing then. Viv's smile froze. Blueglow. This bitch used to be a server at Blueglow. His name had been Connor. He'd been their head chef. His girlfriend had been a server. No. His supposed fiancée. Viv had waltzed off with him but had never knowingly met that fiancée, real or not, at least not in context, and later had, rather rudely if she was honest, dumped the guy. Apparently needing a fresh start, he'd left town. Last she'd heard he was in Portland or Seattle or somewhere suitably dreary to match the condition she'd left him in. No wonder those cities had legalized weed. They needed all the help they could get, apparently, living in such places with too much gray in the sky and green things growing everywhere, including on people who didn't move fast enough.

"Hey, Noreen," Viv said firmly, the woman's professional politeness wavered, "thanks, but we've changed our mind. We'll go elsewhere."

She took a half step backward and Lachlan followed her lead and even before they'd completed the spin she had them moving. A quick glance back and Noreen had taken a step but just then a couple had emerged from the dining room. The blonde's professionally friendly expression had turned to anger but morphed back as she turned. She'd worked her way off the floor and it wouldn't do to lose her new job and get blacklisted in the area, but old wounds reopened, this wasn't over. Viv unchecked this option for future dining. A shame.

"C'mon, lover," she said as she turned them right as they left the Impala, "Grassa's close by. It's just as good."

"Well. The quality of tonight's crowd has truly bottomed out," the man at the stand at Botanical's entrance said, his dark pink suit perfectly fitted to what was obviously a lithe body as he stepped from behind his stand. Unlike the Impala, there was little separation for the entrance from the open space that sported well-spaced stand-up tables and small booths ringed the walls, the bar an atoll with a reef of stools in the center of the space. It wasn't packed but few open tables or booths could be seen. Servers weaved among the tables and multiple bartenders bustled on their island. The volume of the massed conversations and Sinatra on the sound system made the introductory statement hard to hear, but the host was well-practiced at projection.

"Good evening to you, too, Noah," Viv said as she stepped through the door to stop close to the colorful man and Lachlan chuckled as he stood close behind her, "you know damned well we're the most class that's set foot in this dump since the last time we were here."

He laughed then hugged Viv before he kissed her on each cheek and she returned the hug. He turned to Lachlan and put out his right hand but just before Viv's companion had taken it he pulled it back and threw both arms around the slightly taller figure and pulled him close. He locked his mouth onto Lachlan's. Hands grabbed Noah's ass cheeks.

After a few moments Viv let out a closed-mouth growl. Noah ended the kiss with a loud 'smack' and turned so both of them faced the brunette.

"When are we going to have another ménage à trois, my dearest girlfriend," Noah said, his height perfectly split the difference between the two who'd just arrived, "things have been a bit lame around these parts lately."

"I hadn't noticed," Viv winked, Noah shook his head and smiled, "but are there really three when at no point all of them ever touched?"

"Let's not get lost in strict definitions," he winked back and waved a hand through the air down her body, "I mean, look at you. You're..."

Viv placed her left hand on her hip and offered an expression that made clear his survival depended on his next few words.

"A girl! I mean... eeewww!"

She laughed and shook her head.

"She is every inch a girl," Lachlan said lightly, "I have investigated quite thoroughly. QUITE thoroughly."

"I commend you for going where few dare, and even fewer return from alive, Lachlan my boy," Noah said to Viv's loud sniff, "now, I'm not used to seeing you two out on school nights. What's up?"

"Tough day," Viv said, "just had a nice dinner at Grassa. Can we get one of the little booths? Preferably that one in the far corner?"