Nick set the cruise control at a slow, comfortable pace so the flying Roombas could keep up. Tiffany enjoyed the long ride through the night on the back, her arms wrapped around him, her cheek nuzzling the soft blue leather of his riding jacket. The cool night air rifled through her hair, making the ride feel extra nice — almost therapeutic.

  As they coasted down the country road to Nick’s property, he slowed and turned onto the long, winding dirt driveway, following it to the open barn. They rolled in and parked. Both got off and stretched, soft joint pops sounding off in the damp, chilly night air.

  Nick headed to the front door, unlocked it, and hung his jacket and helmet on the hooks by the entrance. Jarvis and Glitchet followed him in, quietly buzzing about as they inspected the house.

  He lingered at the doorway, looking out across the dimly lit yard, watching for movement. The sound of rummaging carried on the cool night air, followed by the hollow *thump* of the deep freezer lid dropping closed.

  A minute or two passed before Tiffany finally emerged — arms full of large, ziplock bags of deer meat from earlier that morning. She walked into the house without a word, her mind on the frozen cargo cradled in her arms. She passed Nick and dumped the bags into the large stainless steel sink.

  “Soooo... where should I unpack my things?” she asked, just wanting to shower.

  “Well, you can have my old room or my parents’ room — that’s where I sleep, but no biggie.”

  She paused for a moment, considering.

  "If it’s okay, I’ll take your old room. All I have is what’s in my bag here anyway."

  She hefted her bag off, unzipped it, and pulled out two small silver stainless steel Rubik’s cubes, setting them on the kitchen counter as Nick escorted her to her new room.

  He opened the door and showed her in. It was pretty well kept — posters of vintage American muscle cars, some 1980s–90s Japanese tuner cars, and a silver and blue R34 Skyline with a blonde-haired, blue-eyed man leaning on the side of it. A black Sharpie signature marked the corner with *Thanks for being a fan, Nick*. It was the only one framed on the wall, with several import tuner die-cast model cars on a bookshelf underneath.

  An empty hobby desk sat nearby, a lamp mounted to the surface and a small toolbox off to the side with a model kit tool set. A two-speaker stereo sat on the shelf above the desk with a stack of CDs. Her eyes drifted to the wall-length bookshelf — everything from Sherlock Holmes: The Collection to Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Further down was an alphabetized section of manga and Japanese car comics, which seemed to catch her interest.

  Then she found the DVD section. She picked up a green-and-black movie case — a picture of a man dressed all in black, dark shades, and a long trench coat holding a rifle. Two men and a woman stood behind him, dressed similarly in pleather outfits. She read the back: something about humanity being trapped in a simulation. She frowned and put it back.

  *Nope. Already did that tonight in real life, thank you very much, she thought.*

  She perused some sci-fi but didn’t seem interested.

  “Anything in particular you like? Action? Adventure... maybe some comedy?”

  Her hands paused between two cases — one depicting a hand holding a grail, with armored knights of old peering out of the holy relic; the other, a vast space scene with a man in a bathrobe holding a towel, staring at a short, white robot with a head the size of a planet.

  She pulled the one between them: a peaceful image of a lush, green hill with windows and a heavy, round wooden door set into the mound. A small man smoked a pipe, while a tall bearded man in a pointed gray hat and matching robes approached with a staff.

  “I’d like to watch this first. Then these two.”

  He took the three movies, setting the two British comedies to the side and examining the larger box.

  “This one might take a while — it’s a three-part movie...”

  She nodded, tired but enthusiastic.

  “We don’t have to finish it tonight. I just want to relax and unwind. Besides, I want to get up first thing in the morning and check on the girl at the hospital. So — go shower. I’ll put this by the TV and get the food started, okay?”

  “We don’t have to finish it tonight. I just want to relax and unwind. Besides, I do want to get up first thing in the morning and check on the girl at the hospital. So — go shower. I’ll put this by the TV and get the food started, okay?”

  He nodded and walked out the door, then popped his head back in as she placed a large ornate wooden box on the hobby desk.

  “I’m not that hungry, so please only fix a little bit for me, okay?”

  She nodded and headed to the kitchen as he went to grab some night clothes for them to change into, leaving a set for both of them in the bathroom before heading off to shower.

  She picked up the chrome Rubik’s cube and set it on a large space on the counter, flipping the switch. It began to grow and unfold in size. She let it be while she put a couple of ziplock bags in the fridge, leaving just enough out for her and Nick.

  She took the remaining ziplock bags of meat and turned back to the restored hyper oven that had finished transforming on the counter. She dumped the contents into the tray and tapped a few buttons, bringing the oven to life with a soft *brrrrrrrrrrr* of a hum. Jarvis wondered over to her with Glitchet in tow.

  "Mum, could we be of some service? I feel... lost."

  "We? Speak for yourself... I'm going for a nap. Wait—did you set up the charge docks yet?"

  "No, not yet." Tiffany said as she fiddled with the time on the hyper warmer before heading back to Nick’s old bedroom to unpack her bag.

  "Jarvis, just do the same thing you'd do at the apartment. Just make sure you ask before you toss any of Nick’s stuff."

  He saluted her as she walked away and started tidying the kitchen. She entered the room and dumped her bag, spotting Jarvis’s dock already set up on the bookshelf. She plugged it in.

  Then Glitchet hovered in with a box.

  "Someone left this at the door. Could be a bomb. Here—catch..."

  She nonchalantly flung the parcel to Tiffany and fluttered off back to the kitchen, whistling a screechy cheerful tune as she went.

  Tiffany caught the box and examined it. Hmmm... no post markings...

  She shook the box, hearing something inside, and noticed a slip of paper hanging out of one of the folds.

  *Sorry about the drop and run, guys wanted to hurry back to the ship. I forgot to give this to you for Glitchet.*

  She flipped the paper over and read the rest:

  *Also, everyone made it to the local infirmary in one piece and alive—especially your friend you said to take special care of. Should be able to visit them in the morning. Take care, your friendly astrofield tech, Splicer.*

  "Well, that was nice of him," she said, opening the box and pulling out a corded dock, equally as colorful and gaudy as the bot it was meant for. She looked at it, comparing it to Jarvis’s — which looked light-years newer than Glitchet’s raggedy monstrosity. Tiffany set the box aside and plugged the other dock in.

  She paused, wearily floating on fumes, and spotted a stack of discs next to the radio. She fiddled with the buttons, figured out how to turn it on, and inserted a disc with the picture of a toddler playing in a puddle of mud. She clicked play. The luring sound of the guitar began... then the thump of the bass kicked in. She let the tune play as she put her things away.

  Nick finished drying off, throwing on a pair of shorts and a shirt. As he opened the door, he could smell roasting meat wafting down the hallway. The mixture of the smell and the soft music brought back warm memories — memories of a simpler time, when his family was still alive and all was still right with the world in this small town.

  He could hear singing... but it wasn’t just the radio. And he couldn’t place the language. All he knew was that the tune matched the words from the song.

  *I could be you hero, you could be my Queen, you know that I'll protect you from all of the Unclean, I wonder what you're doing, imagine where you are, there's oceans in between us but that's not very far...*

  He followed the sad singing to his old room and knocked on the door.

  *Knock-knock.*

  The door slowly opened. She was sitting on the bed, looking at broken fragments of something. She looked up at him with green eyes, wet and misting over. He didn’t say anything — just walked up to her and offered his hand. She nodded, setting the fragments aside as he gently lifted her to her feet. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face wet face in his chest and they slowly danced to the rest of the tune.

  *Everything is changing, there's nothing that is real, so make up your own ending and let me see just how you feel,

  'Cause I am lost without you, I cannot live at all, all of my world surrounds you, I stumble then I crawl...*

  "Are you going to be okay?" he asked, holding her.

  She squeezed him a little tighter, nodding into his chest drying her face on his shirt.

  "You smell like lavender and cherry blossoms..." she muffled into his chest, the scent comforting her emotionally and physically — like a deep desire to cocoon herself in a pile of warm blankets and drift off in a soft, cozy bed.

  Her thoughts briefly flashed to when she was a young pup, snuggled on the futon her grandpaw made, buried under blankets on a sunny day. The scent of cherry blossoms had wafted through the cracked windows on a chilly spring morning.

  She then let go, turned, and picked up the broken blade fragments and a leather-wrapped hilt, gently placing them on the work desk next to the ornate wooden box. She turned off the radio, then gave Nick another hug.

  "I need a shower. The food should be done. Ask Jarvis to help with the warmer if you need it... I'll be out soon."

  He nodded as she walked briskly to the bathroom. He looked at the metal fragments on his old hobby desk, then at the open door she walked out of. *How in the world did she manage to hold everything together for as long as she has by herself?*

  Jarvis helps Nick with the oven and food prep, both behaving — Jarvis not tasing Nick, and Nick holding back on the Roomba jokes. Glitchet floats by, gently bumping into the back of Nick’s head as he's pouring water and setting the deer steaks on the plates. He slightly dodges the next bump, looking her in her half-moon pixelated eyes.

  "Hey, Tiffany's having a rough night. How about helping out and doing your other job?"

  Glitchet just hovered face to face, expression unchanging.

  "Oh? And what would that be, good sir?" the bot asked in a mock bemused state, her telescoping arms crossed. Nick grins and taps the side of her casing at the *Emotional-Support-Roomba*. Her eyes slitted at this as she huffed a sigh.

  "Fine... but I'd like something in return."

  She gave Nick an unnerving, creepy grin at saying this, which instantly made him regret asking.

  "What could you possibly want now? Tiffany is the reason you're not deleted or rotting in the basement. I know it's not the best, but she managed to get you a new body and a charge dock."

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Her eyes grew a little at the last part.

  "Wait... I get my own dock?!? *Gasp!* I don’t have to share?!?"

  She asked, placing a clamp on each side of her exaggeratedly mock-happy face. Nick just stared back with his signature blank expression.

  "Why do I have the sneaking suspicion you're being sarcastic... So—what do you want?"

  That unnerving smile flashed for a moment before her eyes returned to their usual half-moons.

  "Mayhaps I am, who knows... But I'd like this."

  She said as her screen went blank and an application flashed on her display. Nick started to read over it while she floated in front of him, the text scrolling as his eyes moved until he got to the end, with a digital fingerprint showing on the screen. Nick looked at it, perplexed, before finally questioning his new bot about it.

  "Wait... your favor that you want... is to be registered as a Mamzon delivery droid? Why? What in the world for?"

  He asked, crossing his arms, a little surprised that the sarcastic bot wanted to do something more than make people question their very existence.

  “To be blunt, sir... the selfish side of me hates housework. I’d get bored doing nothing, so I figured—why not do something? See the outside world. Harass some locals and wildlife. Maybe dig up clues on where the other ass hats are hiding—the ones who left me and those humans in a void of nothing, where time had no meaning…”

  Nick just stared at her, taken aback.

  “Wow—that almost makes you sound like you care. Like you’re a decent being…”

  Glitchet stared back, her eyes narrowing.

  “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” she retorted in her usual sarcastic tone.

  Her screen blinked to black, then lit up again with a glowing green fingerprint icon pulsing softly. Nick just shook his head and placed his thumb on the display.

  A cheerful chime rang out from Glitchet, followed by a green checkmark that swooshed across the screen and a cascade of scrolling text.

  *Congratulations! Thank you for assisting in our experimental drone delivery program!*

  Nick read further. It mentioned picking up a gate pass from security to fly the provided drones, or — if you had a long-distance model — piloting from your chosen location, as long as the drone could make the trip and carry the minimum safe cargo capacity.

  "Are you going to be able to meet these requirements, or are you just cannonballing into the lake with this idea?"

  Glitchet smirked back at him.

  "That would be pretty idiotic — to not know I could do all of these things before applying. But yes, my carrying capacity more than covers the minimum requirements... as well as my power supply... which..."

  Yaaawn.

  "I'm going to go dock. Long day tomorrow," she said, stretching her arms comedically, squinching her face in a yawn.

  As she floated off toward Tiffany's new room, Tiffany had just stepped out of the shower, walking down the hall while drying her hair, wearing a baggy, long, white cotton shirt. She stopped in the hallway as Glitchet blocked her path to the kitchen, floating directly in front of her face. Glitchet’s arms unfolded from her side casing, and she used her clamps to smoosh Tiffany’s cheeks while pressing her pixelated screen to Tiffany’s nose.

  "I just wanted to tell you everything is going to be fine...

  However — statistics say otherwise. Santa is a false construct for gullible children — a bribe to keep them from being detestable hobbs to their parents. The Easter Bunny was stewed alive by Mr. McGregor the farmer.

  But the best part?

  I’ve run the numbers... and through 9,356 simulations, we all meet most certain doom!"

  Glitchet smiled, gently patting Tiffany’s cheeks as she buzzed around her, whistling in an unnaturally upbeat tone — laced with static.

  "G’night, meat-sacks!"

  she called back, heading off to dock for the night. Tiffany just shook her head, finishing drying her hair.

  "I'm guessing that was your doing — putting Glitchet up to that riveting pep talk?"

  Nick just smiled, handing her a plate stacked high with medium-rare meat. Her eyes comically dilated, and a small trail of drool started to form at the corner of her mouth.

  "Well don’t just stand there in a meat coma — here."

  She shook her head side to side, snapping herself back to reality as her pupils returned to normal. She wiped the side of her face with a sleeve and graciously accepted the platter, growing a long claw from her index finger and stabbing a chunk of dripping meat, popping it into her mouth.

  Together, they shuffled with food and drink to the couch in front of the TV, settling in to watch the tale of friends fighting to reclaim their home from a squatting dragon.

  Tried as they might, they barely made it through the first movie of the three-part series.

  Tiffany curled up in Nick’s lap, and Nick’s head slumped against the back of the couch — both fast asleep before the credits rolled.

  *****The next morning*****

  Nick slowly woke to the sound of steady rain tapping against the windows.

  Jarvis hovered quietly around the kitchen, preparing tea and a cup of coffee for him.

  He felt Tiffany shift in his lap as her eyes fluttered open. She gazed up at him with a sleepy smile. He ran a hand through her messy red hair.

  Her smile scrunched into a grin as she stretched like a cat — arms reaching long past Nick, rear end arching upward, a steady trail of soft pops emanating from her spine before she sat up.

  Jarvis floated over, handing Tiffany a plain coffee mug filled with lemongrass tea — a stash he’d managed to save from the apartment. He also brought her extra-large mug and his miniature replica of it, placing both on the butcher-block counter beside the sink.

  Then he hovered over to Nick, fixing him a similar mug of black coffee.

  The two of them sat quietly, waiting to wake up, sipping their drinks as the rain tapped gently against the windows.

  They finished the rest of the movie in sleepy silence before moving on with the morning.

  "Could we go to the Infirmary to check on the girl?" Tiffany asked sliding into a form fitting tanktop she pulled from her back pack and a loose pair of cargo pants. Nick calls back to her from the kitchen.

  "You mean the local hospital right?" he asked inquisitively. She pokes her head out of the room seeing him helping Jarvis in the kitchen.

  "Yes, please. I wanted to check up on her. If that's okay — I know we're both whipped out. It's been a crazy couple of days... Hey—where's Glitchet?" Tiffany asked, noticing Glitchet wasn't on her dock and was nowhere to be found.

  ***Meanwhile, ealier that morning***

  Glitchet whimsically whistled a screechy tune as she dodged raindrops, package in tow, flying toward her first stop of the day. A small Mamazon refrigerator magnet sat proudly above her Emotional-Support-Roomba decals — just to be official.

  She dashed to the front stoop and lobbed the box at the door.

  "And Finkle goes long! It goes—gooooiiinng—*Thunk*—it's gooooood! Touchdown!" she resounded, complete with a mock crowd cheer as the lumpy box landed against the door.

  "What's all that racket!" yelled an irritated short man in a white t-shirt and boxers, yanking the door open.

  "Greetings and salutations on this fine day, good sir!" Glitchet responded as rain poured heavily, lightning striking behind her.

  In a stiff motion, she swept up the box and handed it to the perturbed man.

  "I didn't order anything!" he exclaimed, taking the lumpy box suspiciously. A red wet spot seeped from one corner. He shook it. *Rattle-rattle-rattle.*

  "Sounds broken..."

  "Most likely. I'm sure it was a lovely gift. Sign here, please."

  She edged closer, prompting him to touch her screen. The man took a step back.

  "Bark! Bark!"

  A small dog greeted the unusual guest in a happy manner. The man glanced between his dog and the oddly colored, very off bot. Glitchet floated down, petting the dog for a few moments before rising back to eye level with the recipient.

  The man began wagging his finger at her, but Glitchet strategically moved into the wagging finger, confusing him.

  *Beep!*

  "Signature accepted. Thank you, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day on this dreadfully glorious morning!" she chirped at the dumbfounded patron as lightning cracked again behind her.

  They stared at each other for an awkwardly long moment.

  In a swift motion, she dipped down, grabbed the dog, and tucked it under her frame to keep it dry.

  "Well—Allllllllllllllrighty-then!" Glitchet squelched, flying off into the stormy morning with the short, angry man — cloaked in soaked under garments — giving chase, but miserably failing to keep up.

  ***Aaaannnnddd—Back at the Dixon Farm***

  "She said something about a day job of deliveries, chaos, and something about clues, I believe, Mum?" Jarvis piped in, polishing a mug with a dishrag.

  "Also, Mum... that droid concerns me."

  Nick chuckled at this, shaking his head.

  "Yeah, we know. She's got a few screws loose..."

  Jarvis stared back at Nick, still polishing the mug, thinking over the term.

  "Well, sir, if you're going by that terminology, all the screws are missing — and she's fastened together with grey adhesive strip and... drool."

  "Ha! It's duct tape and spit, but close enough." Nick chuckled.

  Nick paused, putting a couple of dishes away, then looked back at Jarvis — slightly puzzled, if not also a bit curious.

  "What brought this up, Jarvis?"

  Jarvis handed the mug to Nick to put away, grabbing another like an old bartender — bored and passing the time.

  "Well, instead of resting on her dock all night to charge, she kept sneaking into the living room to watch TV as soon as the two of you passed out. They were running an American classic comedy marathon starring some dreadful fellow named... Jim Carrey. I warned her she was going to rot her CPU watching that, but she wouldn’t listen. I was too dreary to argue, so I retired to my own dock."

  "Tiff! I'm going out to the barn to get the car ready. Did you wanna grab something in town?"

  He called back from the front door, grabbing a leather-tabbed keychain with a Z stamped on the worn leather tag.

  "I'm fine with whatever you want — I'll be out in a minute!"

  Tiffany replied from the bathroom, pulling her hair into a ponytail and tucking it through the hoop of the snapback hat she’d borrowed from Nick’s hat rack.

  "Oh—Sir Nick."

  Nick stopped at the door, turning around to see Jarvis floating toward him, arms outstretched, holding a rather large cotton towel.

  “Never forget, sir. Always bring a towel.”