Quick note:
This is Bob/Dot only... set right after the restart at the end of season 3, and a vague attempt at explaining why Dot is acting so bizarrely in season 4. No OC's, nobody else, just these two.

Bob leaned on the balcony railing outside the Principal Office, watching the subdued night-time activity of Mainframe below. The party inside was still going on, as it had been since the restart. He'd used the cheering chaos as an excuse to get away for a bit. Just to be alone, outside and see what they'd been fighting for all this time, restored to its former glory. He closed his eyes for a moment, felt the breeze on his skin. He'd missed that, in the Web. There were a lot of things he'd missed. Things that he'd feared he might never see again.

"Bob? Are you OK?"

The Guardian turned, then smiled. "Hey."

Dot approached him, returning his smile, and slipped her hand into his.

"You left the party. I got worried."

He shook his head, slowly.

"I'm fine. I... just needed to be someplace quiet for a nano, that's all."

Dot rested her head on his shoulder as she took in the view.

"It's pretty out here," she said.

"Not as pretty as you," he countered. She lightly smacked him on the arm, blushing.

"Stop that."

He grinned, and kissed the top of her head as he pulled her to him in a hug. They stayed that way for a few nanos, savouring their closeness.

"I thought you said you hated being alone, especially after... you know," Dot said.

Bob sighed. "I do... but you get used to it, after a while... and then you start to need it, just once in a while."

Dot nodded, and pulled back to meet his earnest gaze, losing herself for a moment in his sad brown eyes. He wouldn't tell her what had happened in the Web; had only given her vague fragments of information that didn't even begin to hint at his change in demeanour. She almost missed his bravado, his total self-confidence.

"You've changed so much, Bob. You never used to be like this."

Pain flickered momentarily behind his eyes.

"We've all changed, Dot. We had to."

She shook her head. "Not as much as you. It's almost like you're a different sprite..."

"Is it such a bad thing?"

"No, I..." Dot bit her lip, unsure how to voice her feelings. "No... I just feel like I have to get to know you all over again. Bob, tell me what happened out there."

He turned away from her, moving back to the balcony rail.

"Dot, I can't. It's still too recent, even for me."

"It's important, Bob. I want to understand."

"No, Dot." Bob pushed away from the railing and turned back to face her. "It's not important. You know what's important?" He reached out and traced the side of her face gently with the back of his hand. "How much I love you. I'm still the same sprite. I just... grew up." He smiled wryly. "User knows you were always telling me to."

"I'm sorry."

Bob leaned closer to her, resting his forehead against hers.

"Don't be sorry," he murmured. "You know... I think this is the first time we've ever been alone together."

She smiled despite herself. "Probably. We're always in the middle of a crisis, or just heading out of one, or we're about to head into one..."

He grinned; then heard the strains of the party music drifting up the dark corridor and out onto the balcony, accompanied by the laughter of dancing sprites, and the thumping of feet in rhythm.

"Even here we're not really alone," Dot sighed, glancing down the hallway.

"You... want to go somewhere else?"

She looked back at him. He had a slightly mischievous look on his face. It was a look she hadn't seen in cycles. A part of the old Bob surfacing, if only for a split-nano. It was comforting.

"Yes. I want to."

Bob compiled his zipboard, stepped on, and held out a hand to Dot. She was about to step on, but hesitated.

"What's wrong?"

"Enzo..."

Bob shook his head. "Enzo's in safe company, Dot. He'll be fine."

Dot sighed. He was right. She needed to stop worrying so much. Take the time, Dot, she told herself. She took his hand, and stepped onto the zipboard, securing an arm around his waist.

"So..." he said, "I guess the question now is - your place or mine?"

* * *

"It's kind of surreal, being back in my apartment like this. I'm sure it wasn't this tidy, though."

Bob scratched his head, a slightly bemused expression on his face as the two stood in the living room. Dot blushed slightly.

"Bob... I have a little confession to make..."

He raised an eyebrow at her, causing the colour to rise even more readily to her cheeks as she looked away in embarrassment.

"I..." she started, then trailed off, biting her lip. Oh, don't be so basic, Dot, she told herself. He won't laugh at you. All the same, she couldn't meet his gaze, and retreated to the safety of the couch, folding herself into it.

"I came here, a few seconds after you disappeared. I... don't know why. I was tired beyond tired, and Mouse told me to go get some downtime, or else..." she smiled, remembering the hacker's concern. "Anyway, I came here... and even with everything going on around us... it felt... safe. Like you were still here. And I kept coming back here, every night..." She closed her eyes briefly, then smiled tightly. "Silly, really."

Bob shook his head. "No. I probably would have done the same."

He eyed his antiquated music system - just like his car, it could be unreliable at the best of times. He couldn't stand the silence anymore. It reminded him too much of...

/drifting, trapped, alone.../

He shook the thought, and walked over to the equipment. After a nano or so of fiddling with the controls, he managed to find what he was looking for.

A soft beat, a gentle rhythm.

"May I have this dance?"

Bob retraced his steps, and gently took Dot's hands in his, pulling her up off the couch and into his arms again before she could protest.

"I never thought you could dance," she teased.

He looked somewhat sheepish. "I can't... but I can do a pretty close approximation."

She smiled, and took the initiative, leading them both in a simple, gentle movement around the room. No schedule, no war... no Games. This was *their* time.

Bob dipped his head to meet her lips in a tentative kiss. Dot slipped her arms around his neck, responding in kind. Their kisses became deeper, longer, more searching, urgent. Her fingers slid up into his hair, gently teasing the nape of his neck. Her pulse began to quicken. His hands slid down to rest on her backside, drawing her closer to him. She leaned her head back as he ran kisses lightly down her neck, and she moaned his name. He sensed the change in her demeanour, and moved a hand to gently cup her left breast. She pressed into him, catching him back up in another kiss as his long fingers kneaded the flesh carefully. After a few moments, they moved up to circle her icon in a wordless question.

Dot suddenly pulled back from him, and met his eyes. For a split- nano, Bob felt a mild surge of panic. Had he pushed a little too far?

She smirked, seeing the momentary panic in his face, allowing herself a little perverse pleasure in his discomfort. He frowned, confused. Then, she placed her small hand in his, stepping backwards towards the bedroom.

He allowed her to take the lead until they crossed the threshold, whereupon he shut the door and made his move, pinning her against the wall with his body. Dot barely had time to squeak in surprise before her mouth was reclaimed in another intense kiss. She relaxed into him, feeling the heat from his body as he pressed against her. Her hands wandered over the breastplate of his armour, felt the raised icon at its centre...

Bob allowed a moan to escape his lips as their clothing protocols released simultaneously, their skin making true contact for the first time. Dot tossed their icons aside, not caring where they fell; her hands caressing him, running over his shoulders, his neck, her tender touch making him quiver with delight. Her fingers brushed over the ever-so-slightly raised lesions that denoted his Web scars, and even though the two were locked in a passionate embrace, some small part of her mind couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow... it made her want him all the more, as if her touch alone could repair the hurt.

Her lips were sweet, and tasted of passion. Bob sensed the urgency in her embrace, but refused to allow the moment to pass too soon. Ever the control freak, Dot, he thought, inwardly amused, letting his own hands slide over her flawless skin, raising goosebumps where they passed, finally settling on her buttocks.

She wriggled against him, feeling his need pressed between them, wanting him, moaning his name, urging him on. He pushed another kiss to her heated lips, cupping her buttocks in his hands, finding his own restraint wearing thin. He worked his lips down her neck, tugging gently at her skin, the scent of her pheromones intoxicating him, luring him onwards, begging for his attention. Her fingers entwined in his hair, pulled at it, sometimes a little too harshly, but he didn't care.

She felt the surge of warmth, threw back her head, her fingers curling. He was so gentle, so certain, so... holding back, damn him!

"Bob..." she moaned, a hint of agony in her tone.

Dot could tell he was smirking, even in the low light of the bedroom, as he continued his explorations, the heat of his erection burning into her skin. She playfully bit his ear.

"Like that, is it?" he murmured, in response. She trailed her nails lightly across his shoulders. He shivered at the delicious sensation. He couldn't hold off any longer. Gripping her buttocks with both hands, he lifted her up, off the floor, and as her legs twined around his waist, used the wall to support them both as he shifted his hips just enough -

She gasped as he sank into her; then held still, briefly, savouring the moment, reveling in her warmth, her slick tightness; her nails digging into his shoulders. He brushed her nipples with his thumbs; hard and erect with her desire. Slowly, he moved within her, establishing a tender rhythm, two souls entwined in the eternal dance...

/I'm never getting home, am I?
The only person who can answer that question is you, Guardian.
I... I just want to know she's OK.
Is that all?
Silence, then:
No... that's not all. I want to tell her... I want to tell her I'm sorry./

His movements became more rapid, his hands clutching her buttocks, drawing her to him, pushing every last bit of himself within her. She curled around him like a leaf, her thighs tightening around his waist, feeling the white fire as it threatened to overtake her senses, make her blind with ecstasy as she lost herself in his dizzying embrace. Her hands traced abstract patterns on the hot skin of his back, her lips exploring his face, delighting in his groans as she contracted herself around him.

The pressure became too great to bear, and he sank into her once more, crying out as he released, burying his face in her neck, panting. Dot moaned, caught him up in another kiss, urged him on. More. He obliged, thrusting harder, deeper, faster, until she could stand it no more, and the heat of her orgasm made her whole body convulse.

After a few moments, he carried her to the bed, and they held each other as they relaxed, breathless, sharing soft words and gentle kisses. Eventually, sleep took the two sprites into their own separate worlds once more.

/It is time. Time for the Burning.
And so they dragged him, half-conscious and bloody, from his cell. He had made it this far; had earned the respect of some of the Riders for his sheer stubborn endurance of their harsh ways. But there was more to come, and he knew, and he was afraid - afraid that he had no more left to give. That he would die out here, with nobody to know why, or when, or even care. Alone, among a people he didn't understand, and a language he couldn't comprehend./

Bob was woken by blows being rained upon him, and he instinctively raised his arms to fend them off, unable to see who it was.

"What the - "

"It's all your FAULT!" screamed his attacker.

"Dot?!"

She was kneeling on the bed, pummeling him blindly, tears streaming down her pretty face, her yelling punctuated by strained gasps for air.

"This is all your fault! Damn you, Bob! None of this should have happened! I shouldn't have had to lose Enzo to the Games! He shouldn't have suffered! It's all your fault, and I hate you!"

He sat up and grasped her wrists, trying to make sense of her ranting.

"Dot? What...?"

She wrenched herself angrily from his grip, backing away from him, sliding off the bed. Her eyes were bloodshot and shining with tears, her face a jumble of emotions.

"So how did you like your little 'experiment,' Bob? Was I a good test subject for you?"

"Experiment? Dot, please - "

"Oh, don't play innocent with me, Guardian," she spat. "I found out about yours and Turbo's game... Mainframe, the 'great experiment'," she intoned sarcastically.

Bob's gaze dropped.

"It's true, isn't it?" she whispered, incredulous at his reaction, seeing his guilt. "It's all true!"

"No!" His head snapped back up, his face defiant. "That's not what this was about!"

"You could have gotten rid of Megabyte and Hexadecimal all along, and you chose not to for some stupid experiment!"

"Dot, please..." He looked pained. "You think I wanted this to happen?"

"What does it matter? It did... I lost everything. I lost you, I lost Enzo..." She sank to the floor, sobbing, burying her face in her hands.

He closed his eyes. He knew she was right, and the truth hurt, like the dirty blade that had cut each and every one of the scars into his flesh.

"I'm sorry, Dot. I never wanted this to happen."

"And that's supposed to make it all go away and be better?" she retorted, her violet eyes flashing dangerously.

He met her gaze, pain and guilt etched on every part of his face.

"You think I don't think about it? How much I hurt everyone I love? I think about it every second, every cycle, Dot. I know it was my fault. I'm living with that knowledge, and it hurts me, more than you could ever know."

Dot picked up her icon wordlessly, and 'booted into her usual attire.

"Dot?"

She glanced back at him.

"I thought you loved me, Bob. Or was that an experiment, too?"

He looked hurt.

"Dot, you're the one thing that kept me alive... I've loved you, always! The experiment was the viruses, not the people! I could no more fake my love for you than I could delete someone..."

She took a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry, Bob. I... I can't deal with this. Not right now."

"But last night..."

"I let my emotions take control. I was excited, and happy, and I love you... but I'm not ready to forgive you, Bob. Not yet."

She turned away from him, unable to meet his anguished expression.

"Don't leave me, Dot... please...." he begged, feeling the knot of despair in his his stomach. He couldn't bear to be alone, not now.

"I'm sorry," she choked, and left the apartment before she could change her mind, leaving the Guardian alone.

Bob drew his knees to his chest, and, for the first time, after everything he'd been through, he wept; silent tears in a silent void of loneliness that threatened to engulf him...

/And he was drifting, alone, through the Web, wondering if this was it, and the one image he kept seeing in his mind that made him want to believe he wasn't going to die, that he could make it home, even though there was no way he could survive, that his air supply must be running out soon... there was hope... and her name was - /

"Dot..."

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