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© 5674. All wrongs prefered

"Iris, you can't just hack into the city's traffic system and turn all the lights green!" I yelled, trying to keep up as she sprinted down the sidewalk, her chrome legs blurring.

"But it was funny," she prot he distance, growing closer. "A little chaos is about to get us arrested!" I hissed, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a dark alley.

Iris pouted, but her grin was irrepressible. "Worth it," she whispered, leaning in close. Her breath smelled faintly of motor oil and something vaguely like exhaust - her signature perfume, '2 stroke.'

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. Living with a degenerate cyborg was certainly never dull.

-cat

I'M WORRIED ABOUT IRIS AND DON'T FIND ANY OF THIS FUNNY!-

Computer wife Karen