Author's Note: So…yeah. I finished watching Ergo Proxy earlier today (or, rather, yesterday, seeing as though it's now almost 3:00am), and I knew that I had to write something including Real/Vincent fluff. I wanted so much more of it in the anime, and didn't get what I wanted. So, I figured that I might as well create it.

Seeing as though I'm half-delirious and was as such when I wrote about three quarters of this fanfic…I don't expect it to be that great. But I'll leave that judgment up to you guys. Just be easy on me when it comes to characterization. I'm still not used to the characters, and I'm pretty much falling asleep.

Oh, and I know that "Real" should really be spelled "Re-L," but I'm lazy and didn't want to type it like that. Plus, I think that "Real" just looks better.

So, without further ado…le fanfic.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Ergo Proxy. Please don't make me type any more.

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Two-thousand miles to Mosque. Two-thousand miles. Real shivered and attempted to pull her blanket even tighter around her scantily-clad form. Her disheveled hair spilled around her pallid face, her breaths coming in short gasps. The cold weather was taking its toll on her, and she could hardly take it any longer. How long had they been stranded there without the slightest gust of wind? How long?

Clenching her teeth together, she hissed in pain and frustration. There had to be some way to stay warm in that god-forsaken "Rabbit." Fire was out of the question—the outside world was completely blanketed in snow, and burning anything inside of the ship would release suffocating toxins. They didn't have any more blankets, and putting on her coat made it impossible to sleep. In the end, she needed to sleep more than she needed to be warm.

But there had to be some way to achieve both.

The sound of a lone snore drifted through the frozen air, and Real growled in annoyance, shooting a pointed stare at the man sleeping on the floor. How could he possibly sleep so peacefully? He was…infuriating. So innocent, so…so…

Ugh.

On the other hand…

In one smooth motion, she swung her legs over the side of her bed's metal frame and stepped lightly onto the floor—forced to bite her bottom lip in order to keep herself from hissing again. She should have known better than to let her bare skin come into contact with metal in the middle of the night. A state of severe chill was causing her brain to function a little less than optimally, to put it lightly. It was frustrating. If she couldn't rely on herself, then who could she rely on?

Still, she had to follow her instincts. Even when she knew that her mind was unreliable, it was the only thing that she knew how to do. Even when…

…well, she had to stay warm somehow, didn't she?

Real tugged her blanket down with her, spreading it on the floor next to Vincent, who was still sleeping soundly, which both pleased and disturbed her. After the slightest hesitation, she lowered herself into a lying position atop her blanket and pulled his blanket over so that it could cover her, as well. She had never tested the technique, but she had always heard that sharing body warmth was more effective than bundling up with blankets and clothes. A few moments passed, during which she made sure that he was still asleep, and then she slowly moved closer to him. Once their bodies were about an inch away from touching, she stopped.

What on earth was she doing? The cold must have caused her to go mad, because climbing into bed with a man—especially Vincent—was not something that Real Mayer would usually do. But, there she was, doing that exact thing. The part that scared her the most was that she wasn't repulsed by him in the least. She was—

"Real…?"

Vincent's shocked voice penetrated through Real's reverie, causing her to gasp slightly in surprise. Her head shot up in panic, and she saw his green eyes gazing down at her with a mixture of confusion, astonishment, and embarrassment. A red flush began to color his otherwise pale cheeks, and Real's eyes widened as she remembered that she was, indeed, wearing nothing but her underclothes. Even though she was mostly covered by the blanket that they were sharing, it wasn't hard to tell.

Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest as best as she could while lying down—averting her gaze from his as soon as humanly possible. Other than that, however, she made no movements to get up or away.

"I'm cold." Her voice was terse, annoyed even, but it held a certain edge of nervousness, which even she couldn't explain. While it was true that she had been inexplicably drawn to him since the very beginning, she couldn't possibly…

No, she was Real Mayer, and she was cold, dammit. That's all that there was to it.

"…oh."

For several moments, they remained in silence, neither looking directly at the other. It was an awkward situation, to be sure, but there was something about it that was particularly…tense. It was just embarrassment, right? Right?

A gloved hand came into contact with Real's bare waist, and she jumped slightly in surprise. Before she had time to protest, Vincent pulled her tightly against his body, causing her icy blue eyes to widen even further; they were beginning to resemble blue china saucers. What was he doing? How dare he…he…

…well, he was making her warmer. Whether the warmth was coming from him or from the fire burning in her cheeks didn't really make much of a difference.

"Is this better?"

His breath tickled her ear as he whispered, and she couldn't help but let a shiver run down her spine. Her breathing hitched slightly—a fact that only served to confound and infuriate her further. He wasn't supposed to have that kind of effect on her. He wasn't even human. He was…he was…

As if it was moving of its own accord, one of Real's hands slid up the rough red fabric covering his chest—her fingers idly plucking at its fringe. She could feel his body stiffen in response to her gesture, and she found herself fighting the urge to smirk. Why that was, she didn't feel like thinking about. Indeed, she found herself almost unable to think. Was the cold really affecting her that badly?

"…take your shirt off."

Apparently so.

"Wha…?" Vincent's eyes widened a tremendous amount, and Real found him staring at her with a dumbfounded expression on his face. It was even more annoying than the innocent expression that he usually wore.

"Tch." Real narrowed her gaze at him, expressing her displeasure through a sharp glare. He was always so dense. She was beginning to wonder if that was the fate of all immigrants or just all men in general. "If you take your shirt off, then we can share our body heat more effectively." There she went—successfully making everything sound like an equation. That was Real Mayer.

"I don't know about you, but I don't feel like freezing to death in the middle of the night," she added in an agitated mumble. She wasn't looking directly at Vincent anymore, but she could feel his gaze boring into her. He wanted to know what she was up to, but he wouldn't get any answers other than the one that she had just given him. Not necessarily because there weren't any other answers, but because, if there were, even she didn't know what they were.

It only took a few moments of hesitation for Vincent to comply with her wishes. It always worked that way, didn't it? She could get him to do nearly anything. At first, she had been skeptical about a Proxy being able to feel anything like a human, but…regardless of his biological makeup, he really did…love her, didn't he? It was obvious. Even Pino, nothing more than an infected machine, could tell.

Perhaps she…perhaps what she was doing was a bit cruel. After all, she didn't love him. She didn't. …did she? It was hard to tell. Everything felt mixed up—like she had lost connection with her ability to think and her ability to reason. Her mind was frozen, just like her toes, which were beginning to peek out from underneath the blanket.

The cold sensation brought her back to reality, and she saw Vincent moving to lie back down after successfully removing the upper portion of his uniform. Suddenly, she felt the need to get out, and get out fast. Regret from all of her actions that night poured over her like a scorching waterfall, but left her even colder than before. She pulled herself up, beginning to scramble out from underneath the blanket.

"This was a bad idea…"

But she was too slow. Before she could get away, she found herself lying flat on her back with her arms pinned at her sides and that infuriating…intoxicating man hovering over her. She struggled to free her arms from his grasp, but it was a half-hearted struggle, at best. She didn't really want to get away. In fact…could it have been that she was actually getting what she had wanted all along?

Vincent's face hovered mere inches from hers. For some reason, she was completely incapable of looking away. His eyes…she had never seen such green eyes before in her life. They were fascinating.

"Vincent…"

"I'm not going to let you freeze, Real." His voice was strong and warm, melting away a bit of the ice that surrounded the very core of her being. "I'll do what I can to protect you."

She didn't want to give into him, not that man, but…she was beginning to feel that she didn't have much of a choice. The wholly inappropriate situation that she had created and ensnared herself in brought out every irrational part of her existence—every single one.

Reaching up a hesitant hand, she trailed her fingers down his cheek in an almost absentminded manner. His breathing was becoming irregular, and she could feel it. Her own breathing followed suit. Although that would have dismayed her a few minutes ago, she found herself not caring. No, in fact, she found herself almost…excited by it.

"Re—"

She didn't allow him to get any more past his lips before she rapidly pressed her own to them—her hand moving to entangle itself in his hair and pull him down closer to her. Even though her eyes weren't open, she could tell that he was shocked. In fact, he was almost as shocked as he had been the first time. But the first time had been a ploy; she had needed to get her gun back and had been forced to distract him. She hadn't meant it. But…

The passion with which he returned the kiss was unexpected. He was usually so passive and so easily manipulated. But, at that particular moment, he was almost taking charge, even daring to trail his hands up and down her bare skin. The feelings that he was invoking within her were nearly unbelievable. She felt as if she was going to burst from all of the tension that was being relieved.

At that moment, she knew that they had both been waiting to get closer to each other—to finally give into the attraction that they had been battling so diligently. He had been doing it for her sake, but she…well, she had been afraid of what "love" could truly mean. The love that she felt for her grandfather was the only kind that she had ever experienced. And then that man…that Proxy…had entered her life. She knew that, even if she continued to fight his feelings and her own, she could never go back to being the same Real Mayer again.

A gasp escaped her lips as his tongue met her own. Her fingernails began to dig into the bare skin of his back as she let out a moan of pleasure, her body nearly melting against his. His burning lips continued to capture hers until he decided to move down her jawbone and then down her neck—nipping lightly every now and then as he went along, simply because the action elicited a variation of gasps from the raven-haired woman.

It was as if she was on fire from the inside out. Part of her couldn't believe that he, Vincent, could really make her feel that way. But the other part of her knew that he had been capable of it all along. She had just never given him the chance.

After pausing for a short period of time at her collarbone, he continued to boldly trail kisses down her skin, lower and lower…

"Oi, keep it down! Pino is trying to sleep!"

Both Real and Vincent jumped in surprise upon hearing the Autorave's shrill voice pierce through the air. They both knew perfectly well that Pino didn't need to sleep, but following their schedule always made the girl feel better—more human, perhaps. Apparently, "Real-Real's" exclamations of delight were too loud for Piano. It was fortunate that she didn't understand what they were really doing.

Disappointingly, Vincent stopped his advance and rolled himself off of Real, who honestly didn't care about meeting the request of an infected Autorave. But it was probably for the best, anyways. The blush that had returned to Vincent's cheeks showed that he wasn't entirely confident in everything that he had done. No, worse than that: he was actually embarrassed.

Realizing that caused something inside of her mind to snap. She had been teetering on the edge of insanity for days, but leave it to Vincent to give her a little push.

A deep, irritated scowl settled over her features as she whipped around to fix her glare on him once more.

"How can you do that and then look so…so…sheepish?" Her voice was clearly laced with anger, and the surprised look that he gave her in return only made matters worse. That is, until he spoke.

"I told you that I love you. I suppose…I never thought that you would return my feelings."

Real blinked slowly, taking a moment to process what he had said. Love? But she had already determined that she didn't love him. She just…was experiencing lust, which seemed to be a normal human instinct. Love wasn't…it wasn't part of the picture. It couldn't be. He was a Proxy.

Dammit, whatever happened to just wanting to avoid freezing to death?

"What makes you think that I love you? I never said so."

For a moment, he merely stared at her. Then, he began to laugh lightly, causing Real's scowl to deepen even further.

"What?" she snapped, feeling an urge to hurt him in any way possible. It was a childish urge, to be sure, but she was very tempted to give in to it.

"You didn't have to say so, Real." He moved closer, pulling her body to his and placing a kiss on her forehead. "I can just tell."

"How?" Real was almost pouting. For some reason, she felt like she had just lost at a game that she had invested a lot of time and effort in. She couldn't have possibly been acting more like a child. It was a frustrating realization, but she blamed him. It was all his fault.

But she couldn't continue being that hostile when he pulled back and fixed his emerald gaze to hers. After looking in those eyes, she just couldn't see things the same way. She was being hypnotized, and she didn't mind.

"I can tell because…for the first time, you feel warm."

All that she could do was stare at him for a few brief moments. Warm? Well, she was feeling warm, but…he wasn't talking about her body temperature, was he? Perhaps…he was right. She had been so cold to him for so long. In some ways, she had been no better than the unforgiving weather that raged outside of the Rabbit. Could he possibly have calmed that storm?

The affectionate feeling that began to spread throughout her body was enough of an answer.

A small smile upon her lips, Real leaned her head and her hand against his chest, feeling comfortable and even safe for the first time in…well, forever. The steady thump of his heartbeat and the warmth that spread out from his very being were enough to lull her into a state of perfect complacency—possibly even happiness.

"…yeah, I guess that you're right."