“It’s the surge protector, and all because of you, Milo,” Master said. “You get to come to work with me on Monday, and we’re going to show Director Andreas everything. If it goes well, they’ll mass produce my part, and we’ll save thousands of future bots from overloading. It just needs fine-tuning to make sure nothing else is affected when the power gets redistributed.
“Oh, and I know how to replace your parts thanks to Raina. We’ll do that later, okay?”
“Y-yes, Master,” Milo said, hands shaking as he ran them up Master’s thighs and then started to undo his slacks. He had to hold it together. He wanted to please Master. He always wanted to please him. But this new feeling was starting to settle lower than his chest, as if whatever was wrong with him was spreading.
“Milo? Are you having a motor function error?” Master peered down at him and noticed the tremor in his hands.
“N-no, Master, I-I-I just—”
“You’re stuttering. Is it damage from the lightning strike? Full diagnostic report, now.”
“P-p-please, I…” Milo closed his eyes, hands still on Master’s thighs, afraid to tell him the truth, that nothing was wrong, but he was clearly broken in some unfixable way. “I-I just… f-f-feel like—”
“What?”Master sat up fully, forcing Milo’s hands to drop. “What do you mean youfeel?”
Notes:
Okay, so this sucked for Milo length too (ha!) but I promise something longer is coming (haha!). Ready for my choices for their Superhero AU names?
So The Ivory Bandit (Milo, who Rowan calls Snowflake, lol) guesses there must be a bug on him, maybe in one of his safe houses or more than one, and is getting paranoid, but he has no idea how Damask (Rowan, who Milo calls Red) might be pulling it off. Of course he doesn’t know it’s Rowan yet, but since Rowan is having more and more fun with his other alter ego, he knows he needs a fake alias. After thwarting yet another heist, he signs his next “love note” as:
Umbra
7
Notes:
Here.
We.
Go. ^_-
ROWAN
Rowan stared at Milo kneeling in front of him. Milo’s eyes were the same as they had always been, yet so different, he realized now, filled with something new, withemotionthat shouldn’t be possible.
“What do you mean youfeel?”
“I-I-I think I’m… broken, Master,” Milo stuttered miserably, “and I-I’m afraid… you will not want to keep me anymore if you cannot fix me.”
“Afraid? Youfeelafraid?” Rowan knew he was repeating himself, but everything he knew about robotics said this was impossible. People had warned of the potential of singularity for decades, but they had taken precautions to ensure the ability to learn never got out of hand. Even if it could, emotions were entirely different from a bot learning and adapting.
Weren’t they?
“I-I’m sorry, Master. I’m trying to act normal.” Milo was still trembling, gaze on its hands, which had lowered to rest atop its thighs, as the bot continued to kneel before Rowan. There was wetness shimmering in Milo’s bright mechanical eyes. They had lubricant to keep the components working, like all of Milo’s parts, but a bot was not supposed to look close to crying.
“How is this possible?” Rowan stared, at last reaching out to lightly grasp Milo’s chin and tilt it upwards. Milo’s lips were reddened too, like the bot had been worrying them.
Worrying.
Then a tear streaked down Milo’s face as its eyes met Rowan’s.
“The lightning. M-my surge protector kept me from overloading, b-b-but… the amount of power did something else to me. My diagnostics cannot explain it.”
“You’re alive…”
Another tear slid down Milo’s cheek. “Please do not throw me away. I can still please you.” With sudden urgency, Milo heaved upward, knocking Rowan back into the sofa cushions. Its hands were still trembling as it slid them up Rowan’s thighs like before to part his legs and return to undoing his slacks. Milo pulled the zipper down the rest of the way and started to push one hand inside.
