Sometimes, there's nothing I value more in Nos than his instinctual knowledge of when not to talk.

The 2nd floor of the library has more direct light than ground level, so we're up here, leaning together on the sofa between two bookshelves. I'm wrapped in the biggest, thickest, softest blanket in the house. Too tired to open my book, I merely hold it, folding my arms around it so that it's against my chest. It's a nice, big, heavy book.

Nos is doing something for his work. Probably responding to messages ‒ that's almost always it. He could be contacting a potential new company, corresponding with one of his current manufacturers, or answering an inquiry. While I envy his work in that he creates his own schedule and gets to stay home, I'm glad I get my days off completely to myself.

I should use them to spend more time in sleep mode.

Even though the clouds are heavy and snow lines the window sills, it is undeniably daytime, and my thought processors are filled to bursting. As tired as I am, I don't want to go offline right now. Staying still and thinking feels just as good.

Unrestricted streams of thought slip though my processors. So much has been going on... the nursery is always chaos in the post-holiday season. Nobody's asking me to take down decorations since I've been growing, but there's still plenty of work to do. I care for the plants on display and in the greenhouses, and I help customers when everyone else is busy. Even though I can still carry up to 350 pounds, the girls all try to do things for me. They wouldn't even let me near the Christmas trees when people were dropping them off for our recycling program... silly things.

Of course, Dr. Darickson would probably agree with them. Every time I see him, there's something new to be worried about. He thinks I'm about halfway through with my pregnancy, but it's apparently hard to tell since I'm using such an old version of the hardware. Then, there are tiny glitches and miscalculations going on between a few minor systems since I turned. It's nothing threatening to the baby, but then there's the whole not knowing if it's an Energy Vampire thing. Dr. Darickson wants to eliminate as many little problems as he can in case that turns out to be a bigger issue.

I tighten my arms around my book. Nos-4-a2 and I have discussed long and thoroughly whether or not we'll be having more children in the future, and both of us agree that one should be plenty. Of course, we also consulted One and Wall.E on the matter, and they think we shouldn't remove the system in case we ever change our minds. From their perspective, it would just be another operation if we wanted children later and I'd had the hardware removed. The truth is, I would need to have my system replaced with the more current version if we wanted more children anyway, so it would be another operation no matter what.

When we figured all of that out, Dr. Darickson told us that the artificial-reproductive hardware could easily be removed while I'm being repaired after the baby's born. That's two birds with one stone, in my opinion. As an added bonus, that will also mean that Nos and I won't have to worry about protection.

I can't say that I'm not nervous about it. It's scary enough to think about "giving birth" without a major alteration immediately after... not that I don't trust Dr. Darickson. It just feels like there are a million things that could go wrong...

Nos-4-a2's hand gently touches my shoulder. When I look up at him, his optics are filled with understanding. That's right... he must have been keeping tabs on my emotions. I run some cooling air through my systems with a light sigh before smiling.

He smiles back and kisses my forehead, taking my blanket and pulling it snugger around me. Then he brings me closer and I tuck my head against his chest. He goes back to working on his tablet.

There aren't words to describe how grateful I am for Nos, but I can find comfort in the fact that he knows. With my head resting on his sleek red alloy, peace settles over my thoughts, and as I'm engulfed by the rhythm of his electrical wavelength, my eyeforms begin to lose focus. I watch his stylus work deftly against his tablet and listen to the soft clicking and whirring within his metal until I finally drift into sleep mode.