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Wilhelm couldn’t remember when his feelings for this evil, bloodthirsty cowgirl (who clearly carried a skag-sized pile of mental problems) had shifted into something more than platonic, more than just “colleagues”
Maybe it was when she shot a bunch of bandits without hesitation, after they attacked their shuttle to the Helios. No, way too soon. More likely, it was when she didn’t hesitate to inject him with Insta-Health as he lay bleeding out. Her eyes gleamed like golden stars, sweat-soaked hair plastered to the face, a familiar grin across it. At that moment, she looked unearthly. Beautiful. Or maybe it was because Wilhelm had lost 40% of his blood and his vision was as blurry as his head.
Either way, the result was the same: he likes her.
She is (objectively) a massive pain in the ass.
She ignored orders, did whatever she pleased, was unapologetically rude and cruel; once even tried to use Saint for aim practice. Wilhelm would never have allowed that. Still, he loved even that part of her.
Enforcer remembered all her small details and habits: the way she walked, how she reloaded her pistols, her laugh-damn it, her laugh. He couldn’t get it out of his head.
As they stood once again in Jack's disgustingly spacious office (now cluttered with piles of documents on how to enslave Pandora), Wilhelm half-listened to his boss, Nisha wasn’t listening at all.
Jack was rambling about some “official evening” organized by the “military hippies“-Maliwan corporation, as he usually called them. He made it very clear that he wasn’t going to show up to that corporate garbage party, but Hyperion still needed representatives. And really, who is a better candidate than his girlfriend and the robot he likes more than Claptrap?
Nisha agreed purely because the idea of visiting a space yacht appealed to her and the promise of free alcohol sounded nice too. Wilhelm-because Jack said he'd pay him for it, and definitely not because he'd get to spend time with Kadam, obviously, just the money.
The event was taking place on the Zanara, an expensive space yacht owned by the Maliwan corporation-or something like that, again, Wilhelm wasn't really listening.
Now the cyborg felt like a complete idiot, standing in a lavish hall, surrounded by corporate scum, trapped in the yellow-gray formal suit Jack had forced him into. Even after loosening his bow tie and unbuttoning the collar, the fabric still pressed uncomfortably against his neck. The too-tight jacket restricts the movement of his arms, especially the metal one.
His cybernetic eyes make a loud buzz when landed on Nisha standing beside him, as gloomy as a funeral
Jack had picked out clothes for her, too. A floor-length yellow cocktail dress with high slits. It wasn’t that Nisha disliked revealing or sexy outfits-she just hated being told what to wear. Her hair was styled neatly for once and black choker hugged around her neck; she refused to wear any other jewellery
“Man, this party just sucks. I fucking hate these people.” Nisha says coldly, swirling the champagne in her glass.
“They probably hate you too,” Wilhelm said without thinking, watching the cowgirl down her drink and immediately reach for another glass.
Nisha chuckled. “Charming. I want to strangle someone.”
“Jack asked for no incidents.”
She rolled her eyes. “Jack asked? Why the hell are you even listening to him?”
“Money.”
“Oh. Right.” The Lawbringer emptied the next glass in a single gulp.
Wilhelm lifted a brow, looking at the empty glass. “You know you’re supposed to drink slowly. Savor the taste.”
Nisha chuckled softly. “And how exactly do you know how to drink this stuff? I’ve never seen you with a bottle.”
“I drank when I was younger,” Wilhelm said, folding his arms across his chest
“Huh. You were young?” The Cowgirl smirked. “Could’ve sworn you were born like this—two meters tall and already bearded.”
He glanced down at his cybernetic arm, remembering when it had once been flesh and bones. The memory left a sour taste in his mouth. “Yeah. No. Though that would’ve been better.”
She caught the look and laughed under her breath. “Freak” she murmured, setting down another empty glass.
They both tensed as one of the men in suit started drifting towards them.
“Asshole at twelve o’clock,” Nisha muttered, adjusting her dress slightly. “If he asks what I do for a living, I’m killing him.”
Wilhelm scanned the approaching man, a Maliwan executive, but bluntly, nothing special. “Okay.”
The man stopped in front of them, smiling.
“Enjoying the evening?” he asked smoothly.
“Nope”
“No.”
They answered in unison. Ex smirks didn’t even twitch.
“What a shame.” His gaze slid to Nisha, lingering far too long on the high slit of her dress. “Perhaps the issue is a lack of proper company. A lady like you might appreciate—”
“No,” Wilhelm cut in.
The executive shot him a sharp look. “It's impolite to speak for your companion. I was merely—“
“No.”
Annoyance flickered across the man’s face, but he pressed on. “This lady could benefit from a more refined company. Something I could provide.”
He reached for Nisha’s hand.
Wilhelm grabbed his arm-not enough to break it, but enough to make it hurt. The executive yelped, instinctively pulling back.
“No,” Wilhelm said coldly. “Now get out of here.”
The man hissed through his teeth, clutching his wrist as he backed away. “Enjoy your evening,” he muttered venomously before disappearing into the crowd.
“Thanks. I owe you.”Nisha said quietly.
“Just pay me.”
"Hah. Alright. How much?"
“...It was a joke, Nish.”
“...Oh. Yeah, your face is absolutely not built for jokes." she said, smirking.
Wilhelm watched as Nisha stepped a little closer, looking up at him from her smaller stature.
“Hmm,” she murmured. “You don’t like parties.”
“I don’t.”
“And you didn’t come here for the free alcohol.”
“No.”
She tilted her head, eyes gleaming. “So it really was just for the money?” Nisha purred.
Wilhelm stayed silent for a moment before turning his head away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his tight jacket. “For the money.”
Nisha laughed softly at that and stepped back, restoring the small distance between them. Her gaze drifted over the hall.
“So,” she said, “how much longer do we have to stand here?”
“Two hours, thirty-five minutes, and ten seconds.”
“Damn.” She exhaled sharply, already turning away. “I’m going to get some fresh air. I can’t stand here any longer.”
“Fresh air?” Wilhelm asked, one thick brow lifting.
She glanced back over her shoulder. “It’s a yacht. There’s got to be a deck.”
He almost pointed out that they were in space-and that wandering off alone was a bad idea, even for someone as dangerous as her. Instead, he clicked his tongue, stripped off his jacket, and draped it over the Lawbringer’s bare shoulders.
“Not for long,” he said quietly.
Nisha froze, surprised, not expecting concern, or warmth from him,she smiled.
“Don’t worry, big boy,” she said lightly. “I’ll be right back.”
She turned away, hips swaying as she wrapped herself in his jacket.
Wilhelm exhaled heavily once she disappeared from view and leaned back against the wall. Without the Lawbringer beside him,the party felt even more unbearable than before.
***
When Nisha hadn’t returned after fifteen minutes, Wilhelm went looking for her, checking every corridor of the ship. (Or yacht? Whatever.) He knew she wasn’t a helpless damsel, but he also knew her definition of fresh air could easily involve an ””accidental”” killing.
He finally found her on the deck: a wide-open platform with artificial gravity but no atmosphere. She stood by the railing, still wrapped in his jacket, her face sealed behind the familiar, battle-scarred Oz Kit.
She didn’t look at him as he approached. Wilhelm activated his own kit as well—the quiet hiss filling his ears. (It would be convenient to have cybernetic lungs one day. No breathing at all.)
He stopped beside her and watched her for a moment as she stared out into the stars, then cleared his throat awkwardly.
“I never took you for the type to stargaze.” His voice came out hoarse, distorted by the Kit. Wil gaze flicked over her face.
Nisha chuckled, resting her hands on the railing. “Yeah. Me neither.” She glanced at him briefly. “They don’t look like the ones on Pandora. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
Wilhelm exhaled and leaned one hand against the railing beside her.
He wasn’t an expert on the night sky, but mercenary work; six galaxies’; and god knows how many kills-taught him a few things.
“That one,” he said, lifting his cybernetic hand to point at a particularly bright star. “Polaris. The North Star. Or something like that.” A faint smirk tugged at his mouth. “At least, that’s what they called it a hundred years ago. Sailors used to rely on it, they said if you lost everything else, it’d still be there.”
“Huh.” Nisha’s voice softened. “She’s beautiful.”
She sounded almost embarrassed saying this.
His gaze drifted, away from the stars and back to her. The way her golden eyes caught the starlight made his brain stutter, his instincts screaming at him to do something incredibly stupid. Something irreversible.
“Yeah,beautiful.” Wilhelm said automatically.
“…Wil,” she said quietly. “You’re staring.”
Her tone lacked its usual edge. Nisha looked at him now, surprised. “You wanna, do something?”
“I—” The words stayed in his throat, of course he did.
Nisha hesitated, fingers twitching near the button on her Oz Kit. After a beat, she powered it down.
Wilhelm followed her
He bent down, towering over her, cupped her face with both hands,his lips brushed hers.
Cold.
The kiss was clumsy. Barely a kiss at all. Nisha let out a soft, surprised laugh against his mouth, his beard tickling her skin.
It ended almost as soon as it began. Wilhelm straightened abruptly and reactivated his kit, exhaling sharply. A second later, Nisha did the same.
They stood there in silence, the stars hanging overhead, the moment already slipping away.
“We should go back,” Kadam said, turning from him.
“Yeah,” Wil replied quietly, watching her walk off ahead of him
They returned to the party. Wilhelm didn’t look at her again that night. It was easier that way, pretending the moment on the deck had been nothing more than a dream. They were colleagues. Nothing had changed. Nothing was supposed to.
So why did she keep his jacket wrapped tightly around herself until the very end?