This "flash fiction" piece (aka "short-short") was published on AntipodeanSF back in August, with the shorter title "Grim Love Bus". It's since moved to their dusty archive room; you can also catch the podcast version (narrated by Mark Tremble); and here's the story in its 500-word entirety:
All Aboard the Grim Love Bus
by Matt Stephens
The doors of the Redhound bus coalesce in Prisca's face, stripping cuticles from the tip of her nose. She peers through the gloop, locates the murky form of the bus driver, and fixes him with her deadliest glare.
"I was right here!" Prisca yells. "What'd you shut the door for?" The driver indicates with his thumb that he can't hear a thing and she should activate her Closed Loop audioconf. Grumpily she twitches her head and repeats the accusation.
"Sorry." He sounds genuine. "Procedures and all that. I have to regulate passenger intake. Give it ten minutes, then I can let you on."
"But you leave for Tau Ceti in ten minutes!"
"I promise, I'll let you on. Meantime, why not switch on your VCR? Let's have some fun while we wait."
She starts in surprise. Are bus drivers really allowed to do that? Even starbound space-pilot bus drivers? Still... she can't piss on this guy. He holds power over her right now. Shrugging, Prisca flutters her eyelids to login to the Virtual Chat Room. Her shoulders hunch and she stands alone, slumped like a solitary zombie.
A floral garden, she notes with alarm. His avatar is different, yet it's unmistakeably the bus driver. He sees her, grins, and floats over. A gaudy purple Privacy Cone shimmers around them. Prisca glares at him. Same expression, but this time it conveys a whole different meaning.
"Look," he says quickly, "I'm not a sleaze. I don't expect you to... you know, put out or anything. But... I really like you. And you must be searching for romance... why else would you head for Tau Ceti in wintertime? And as soon as we take off, Redhound regulations will prevent me from pursuing any kind of relationship with you. But there's a loophole... if we've already consummated our love, we can be together on the bus. You can even join me for lunchtime sandwiches in the cockpit. So this has gotta be fast. Can we kickstart a lifelong amour in... seven minutes thirty seconds?"
They give it their damnedest. "You're special," he breathes as their avatars perspire and move together as one. "You are so getting on this bus. My love."
Seven minutes later, they swap one last lingering kiss. Prisca's avatar, kinky and dented, drops out of cyberspace. She opens her eyes. The dank greyness of the city shimmers back into form, and she waits excitedly for the doors to dissolve. A light flashes, a siren hoots, and the bus takes off. Alone on the drab concourse, she stares in disbelief as the Redhound spirals into the glowing blue sky. The bus is already a distant spec as its antigrav thrusters shake the brittle landscape around her.
Prisca doesn't even bother to glare at the empty sky. She walks away from the stop, hating herself for never learning. Those bus drivers are all the same.