Matt sighed as he sat up in bed, he opened his eyes, which right now were encased with a layer of mucus that prevented him from seeing momentarily as they glued his eyelids together. This was rectified with a quick backhanded rub to the eyes, allowing him to get up and look at the offending alarm clock that had pulled him from his deep sleep, he pressed the sleep button and swung his feet over the side of the bed, getting up in a single motion.

With a shake of his head he realised he had only gotten three hours of sleep, it was honestly his own damn fault, or was it? He had left the game with several hours to remain in the night, but he had spent all of those several hours but three pacing back and forth feeling like shit. Multiple conclusions and arguments ran through his head like fire through grass, each one burning and cutting off the fuel for the other.

“Good morning,” called out a happy voice, and the main source for his current predicament. He looked up at Willow’s happy smiling ghostly figure as she floated and danced around him. She had put him in this mood, and as soon as his head had been awake enough from the not satisfactory amount of sleep he had gotten the doubts and other questions settled in.

He felt like shit.

Almost like he had cheated on Monica.

He knew it was only a kiss, and further he also knew that he and Monica were not even dating yet.

Yet.

The issue was he actually liked Monica, not that he didn't like Willow, it was simply that he had been looking forward to this relationship, this date. He had been looking forward to it very much. And then along came Willow at just the wrong time and confusing him. With a sigh he went to the restroom, he and Willow had this agreement, she would not follow him into the restroom, he knew it was futile, seeing as everything he saw she also saw, but even knowing this it made him feel better to not have her ghostly figure hovering over him.

After relieving himself he hopped in the shower, his mind still conflicted, after a quick scrub down he grabbed a towel and dried himself off, and pulled on his clothes for the day. The clothes he wore today were much nicer than ones he typically wore, consisting of a nice set of black jeans that had a factory made faded section from mid thigh to mid calf, providing a slightly lighter section that colored the pants, and a shirt that resembled a long sleeve tee, except the arms were rolled up to be just below the elbow and there were four buttons near the top, allowing him to leave the top two undone.

He pulled on a nice pair of socks and grabbed his nice riding boots, the black ankle high boots going up to his mid thighs and he took a minute or two to lace up, and once they were up he pulled the jeans down over them. He stood up and looked at himself in the mirror. All of his clothes were black or somewhere near that color, except for the strip of blue that ran straight down the center of his shirt. He looked at his face , and with a pair of scissors, trimmed the edge of the beard, satisfied he once again looked at himself and nodded.

Pulling out some deodorant he applied it and got some cologne, this one called Almond musk. Monica seemed to like this one, and he often remembering her smell deeply anytime he walked by her while wearing it. Honestly at first he had thought it strange, but now, well he took it in stride.

He was about to turn around when he found himself looking at the not so happy face of Willow, she frowned and had her arms crossed, and looked at him with a discontented face. “What?” he asked looking at her.

“You didn't answer me.” she pouted. And thinking back he did remember she had spoken this morning, she had said good morning to him. He looked at her, and sighed.

“Good morning Willow.” he said, and turned and grabbed his riding jacket, which made Willow perk right up after the lackluster response.

“Oh! Are we going somewhere?” she asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

“I am going somewhere, on a date remember?” her excitement fell away, quickly turning into a look of bitter anger and hatred, but this all melted away in an instant when he looked back at her. “I would leave you here, but that is impossible, so I am simply going to ask you to please not get in the way, I promise I will allow you to talk to her, but please please Willow, just, let this go, for now. Ok?” he asked, and she wouldn't look at him, her pouty face turned away. “Ok?” he repeated, and to his relief he received a slight nodd. It was the best confirmation he was likely to ever get. And with that he put on his jacket, and retrieved two motorcycle helmets.

He looked at his white helmet and the blue one, it was Taylor’s old helmet, and he wondered if it would be ok to allow another woman to use it. Not just for Taylor, but also for the other woman, would this be awkward for Monica? To wear the moto helmet of another woman he had loved? With a shrug he thought that Awkward was distinctly better than dead, and thus grabbed it, bringing it with him.

After bringing up his garage he drove over to Monica’s house, it was not to far from his, only three blocks to the right side of his, one of the new constructions that had just recently been finished, a tall three hundred story spire made of white and reflective silver, with a distinct curve at the top of it, giving it the appearance of a blade of grass, if not the color. He found her sitting on the steps, she was wearing a form fitting pair of Jeans, grey in this case, a black top that covered her arms down to the elbows and was cut in a vee neck, exposing a pretty generous amount of skin, which also came to a hoddie in the back, thigh high black boots and fingerless gloves that covered her hands and went to mid forearm.

Her blonde hair was streaked with blue, giving her a asphalt ranger look. The hairstyle consisted of one side being shaved about three inches above the ear and the rest going up and over her head onto the other side. As he approached she smiled and stood up and waved to him, he pulled his bike and parked it in front of the curb, the auto kickstands deploying to allow him to rest the bike without any effort. Several passers by looked at him and the bike, but he was used to it, it was after all extremely rare to see such and atique still in use.

Willow made note of the woman, this, this was her mortal enemy.

Crush.

Kill.

Burn.

She made sure to not be visible, she was simply the observer at this moment, she had after all much to her anger agreed to stay out of it.

For now…

“Hey Monica,” he said, pulling off the helmet, she smiled and practically bounced over, her hair, and much to Willows disgust another feature of her anatomy bouncing with each step.

“Matt, I am so glad you could make it, I am really looking forward to today,” she said, folding her hands behind her back and leaning forward slightly, allowing the deep vee of her shirt to show him a slightly more interesting view. And as a male, much to Willows increased disgust he looked, or rather glanced.

“I am too,” he said, tearing his eyes off of her cleavage and back to her eyes, hoping his stare had not been noticed, Monica however had noticed and really wanted to give her friend Christa a hug in thanks for the suggested move, it was effective. She beamed as he sade those words. “Ready to go?” he asked, and unstrapped a helmet from the back of his bike, and offered it to her.

She recognized it instantly, it was a helmet she had seen many times, except always on another woman, a woman that was no longer alive, she paused mid grab and looked at the blue motorcycle helmet.

“Sorry it's the only spare I had-” he said awkwardly, figuring she was upset at the reminder of Taylor.

“It's fine,” she said with a smile, and grabbed the helmet, pulling it on. The helmet had elicited a response in her, but not the one he had thought. ‘Oh my god, he is willing to let me wear her helmet? He is going to let me wear something so important to him?’ she felt she could almost cry tears of appreciation. “So what is the plan for the day?” she asked sliding onto the back of the bike and tightly wrapping her arms around him, he could feel the warmth of her pressed up against him, it was completely different from how it felt when Willow had done the same, it reminded him of Taylor.

“Oh we have plans,” he laughed, “Ready?” he asked, and when she had confirmed he took off, much faster than she had expected.

“Whhhhhaaaaaaaaa??? AHHHHHHHHHH-” she screamed a formless scream as he accelerated enough to lift the front tire off of the ground, causing the bike to tilt back a full foot and her to tighten her grip on him, squeezing him as tightly as she could fearful of falling off. When they came back down he was laughing and she in her anger slapped him on the back of the motorcycle helmet, the hit only caused him to laugh louder as he sped between obstacles on the way to there destination. He kept laughing and even against her will she found herself smiling, though it was likely more to being able to wrap her arms around him like this than the excitement of the moment.

This, this was something she had only dared to dream of in the past five years, she had remembered when she had first seen him, she had been a new clerk at the store, and he had been the person who was set to training her. He had been so nice, and after a week she felt she might like to get to know him more. And that was when she found out he was married, happily so to a woman with long locks of wavy Auburn hair and piercing green eyes.

Taylor.

She had killed any thoughts of being with him after that, and though she felt guilty she remembered the spike of joy she had felt when she had heard the news of her passing. Was she a bad person? She had wondered many nights because of it, she had felt a spike of joy, but only for a split second before the sadness settled in. she had liked Taylor after their nteractions over the years, they had even become good friends and she would never wish death on the woman. But that spike…

She shook her head, and looking at his back she smiled, she could work this out later, right now she wanted to focus on the right now. She turned her head sideways and laid it on his back, a smile on her face as she watched things whizz by on her right side. He felt her head on his back and the arms around his midriff and smiled.

The only one not smiling was Willow, she was having a hard time not growling.

The location they stopped was the same shopping district and Mall that he had taken Willow to to scout out for the date. He had it all planned, parking to the back of the lot, walking her in, protecting her in the crowd, all of it just like what he had done with Willow, where it changed however was the window shopping, Monica didn't have the same sense of wonder Willow had, she had been here many times, and instead of running from window to window she was content to simply walk side by side with Matt, her hand in his.

The two of them walked over to a movie theater, it was an old school theater, attempting to recreate the feeling of watching a movie in one of them found it the past, it even played some old two dimensional movies all the time. The movie however was one she had never seen, seeing as the movie medium had all but died in the past hundred years as story tellers had opted to use casers to tell more interactive tales.

It was some soppy rom com, but she loved it, laughing at jokes she had never heard. But honestly they could be watching anything, so long as he was there with her and she would have probably enjoyed it. After that, they walked around the park, observing the dogs and kids playing there. By then the day had flew past, and the sun was setting, she was slightly startled when the giant skylight window that was the complex's roof darkened.

Had the day really gone that fast?

Matt looked at his watch, “Well, it is time to go eat, are you ready?” he asked, she was wrapped around his arm with both of hers, pressing her not insignificant chest up against it.

“Ready when you are.” she smiled serenely, and allowed herself to be led off to a restaurant. ‘God, today has been perfect.’ she thought to herself. The restaurant they went to was one that served italian food, or at least that is what they said, seeing as cultures had long ago blended away, making most dishes more, diverse than originally.

They carried out conversation, laughing and laughing and, Willow couldn't take it any longer. She knew she had promised to stay out of it, but dammit, he was putting so much more effort into this date than he had on hers.

She started yelling.

“Damned whore of a woman!” she ranted, appearing in the corner of Matt’s peripheral vision. Matt stopped what he was saying and froze, looking behind Monica, she looked puzzled and looked back, over her shoulder, upon seeing nothing she looked back at Matt.

“Are you ok?” she asked, looking at him slightly concerned.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” he answered, but he still looked distracted to her. In his sight Willow kept ranting and raving.

“Whore!”

“Slut!”

“Bitch!” and any other word that popped in her head to shout, and worse than this she screamed every time Monica opened her mouth, making it hard for him to concentrate on what Monica said.

“Are you sure you're ok?” Monica asked, he was definitely distracted by something, she had just told a joke and he had not even laughed, or chuckled, or hell told her that that joke was awful. Any of those responses she would have been ok with. He had simply stared off like he had not even heard it.

“What?” he asked, a slightly confused look in his face. He shook his head, almost like he was dislodging something “Yeah, im fine, Im going to head to the restroom i'll be right back.” he said, excusing himself from the table, she watched him leave with a nervous expression on her face.

Had she fucked it up?

The day was going so damn well, was it something she had said.

Had she ruined her one chance?

Matt on the other hand was in the bathroom stalls, each one was like its own separate bathroom, with a sink and mirror and everything. He growled and in anger punched the thin metal wall, leaving a nice imprint of his fist in the metal. “Willow.” he growled and she appeared before him, attempting her best smile that smile faded when he slammed his fist into the metal again, and rested his head on the stall wall. There were a few tears that ran down his face, and she was about to speak when he spoke up. “Please, this is hard enough for me as is.” he said softly, “This entire day I have been trying to not think about Taylor, about how we did this, or she would have done that,” he turned his head and looked at Willow, a pleading look in his eyes as a single tear tracked down his face. “Please, I already have enough ghosts to deal with.” she looked at him, and nodded silently, before vanishing. He turned and rested his head against the cool surface of the stall’s wall, before pushing himself back up.

He had split the skin on a knuckle, and it was bleeding slightly, he washed it off and wiped his face, before heading back out. To Monica’s credit she never mentioned the knuckle or the fact that his eyes were puffy. After they finished the meal they made their way out, and he drove her home, on her insisting he followed her up to her room, and she dragged him into her apartment.

She dragged him in, as she planted a kiss on his lips, and lead him over to a cube about a foot high with two cords coming out of it. It was a device called the SafeSpace. A virtual space where two people could interact using their casers however. It was sometimes used for meetings, but it had also found another market, using it two people could engage in intercorce with no risks whatsoever, it felt exactly like real as it sent a complete scan of you into the virtual world, and it sent signals straight to the brain, just like normal caser programs.

Use of the device was widespread, it had practically decimated the transmission of S.T.D.s and of unwanted pregnancies, seeing as it felt exactly like actual sex, without any of the risks it was supported widely by practically everyone. Actual sex was only used when two people wanted children.

She was about to plug in and have him do the same when he stopped her. “Wait, wait.” he said. “Before we do this, I uh have something to say.”

“It's fine,” she said, smiling a knowing smile. “I know Taylor ment alot to you, I understand that if we get in this she might be a corporeal memory.” there was one issue with the SafeSpace, it was so sensitive to the users to create as real a feeling as possible there was sometimes issues where thoughts and emotions formed mental images that were projected in the SafeSpace, it lead to ghostly images, and sometimes more. She obviously thought he was worried about this. “I understand what she meant to you, I've come to terms with me not being the only woman in your heart if this goes into a more serious relationship, I also have it set up so if something does happen we can go to a zone where no external stimuli will affect the program, effectively blocking any corporeal memories.” she stammered on, “Please, I really want this to work.” she looked at him, offering the cord.

He took it out of her hand, and looked at her. “If only it was that easy,” he sighed, and after she had given him a curious look he plugged it in and sat down, “You’ll see, if Taylor shows up as a corporeal memory then that will be the least of our concerns.” he said, as she turned on the machine with a curious look. The nauseating feeling once again overtook him, and he found himself in a nice room, comfortably furnished, and by his side was Monica, but they were not alone, standing there looking extremely upset was none other than Willow, and not the ghostly Willow, but a physical Willow. “This is what I mean Monica,” he said gesturing to Willow, “This is Willow.”

Monica’s brow scrunched up and she looked extremely confused at the other woman who glared at her. “Who the hell?”