Steampunk'd

Victoria stepped over a discarded wrench and gently poked a brass gear out of her way as she walked through the man's office.

"Hiram, are you here?" She slid past the second door to his study and heard an explosion just beyond, emitting a cloud of smoke. She hurried forward, settling her hand on the pistol in her handbag as she came across Hiram laying on the ground in a mass of robotics.

"Hello Victoria."

"Hiram." Victoria responded, easing her hand out of her bag, leaving the pistol inside, "I thought we had agreed you would give up on this nonsense?" she asked as she helped him stand.

"Vic, I have all of these ideas, they just aren't working the way they're supposed to! I know that there's something there I just have to figure it out!"

"Like what?" Victoria asked as she picked up some pieces on the ground, "These bits and bobs don't fit together, they're not meant to Hiram. You have to give up on these toys, we have bigger fish to fry, greater things to be done. Technology is advancing but you're focused on the wrong end of it."

"No, no, Vic, I know there's something here! I could make an automatron, a person who can move without winding it up! I know! And a contraption to fly in, I could build that!" Hiram shouted in excitement, pouring over blue prints and files on the ground and walls. Victoria placed her hand on Hiram's shoulders, steadying him and forcing him to look her in the eyes.

"Hiram, we have other things to do. Pack your bags and let's go. We're going to be late." She spoke while Hiram stood silently blinking before frowning and nodding.

"Alright," he began to walk out of his study, wiping his hand on a dish rag and rearranging his suit vest to sit properly on his frame, "Tell me, what in the world are you wearing?" He asked while Victoria chuckled. Her long skirt had a slit to the top of her knee on the right side, allowing for a greater range of motion and she wore a shirtwaist blouse with a jacket over that, making her appear to be ready for both a day on the savannah or a day in London, "You sure are putting on the role of the Femme Fatale."

"Someone has to protect you when your toys become inept." Victoria responded as she trailed behind him, watching a small robot walking in a circle by the door, completely on its own, wearing a pair of tiny goggles on its forehead.