Title: Lovestruck Fool.

Author: Nemesi.

Fandom: Rockman Classic Saga (MM)

Genre: General. Romance. Humor.

Word Count: 879.

Characters: Not tellin' you, but it's an het pairing.

Rating: PG.

Disclaimer: Rockman, its characters, places and themes belong to Capcom, Shogakukan, ShoPro, TV Tokio, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.

Warnings: Unbeated.

Summary:

* * * * *

He is going for her only because there is no other option. That's what he said to (the few) who had dared to question his choice.

Both creators of their race keep heaping the city with male models, he'd explained as patiently as he knew how (which is to say, not much). But for all their genius, neither one ever thinks of making a female model for a change. Hell, not even among the Cossackbots there is one single female, for crying out loud! Who else is he supposed to ask out?

At this point, his interlocutors had pointed out that gender is not an issue among robots, and that she's not the only female model in town, either. There's Splashwoman to take into account, and she's even on his side – their side, you know, the evil one.

Those who pointed out about the gender issue had been dealt with by means of a charged plasma shot.

He simply does not have enough patience installed to explain that yeah, gender might not be an issue, but duh, he likes curves, thankyouverymuch.

And about that hourglass shaped siren that is Splashwoman… well, she really is a siren; in the most literal sense of the word.

Soft and curvy and outrageously beautiful as she is, she lives in the sea. And for all his waterproof coating, he can endure water for only so long. Besides, she might be an ally, yeah; but as such, she's dangerous; and he doesn't want a woman whose peals of madcap laughter are a trifle scarier than his own.

It just wouldn't do for his image of evil villain.

…and no, he's not making excuses out of thin air. He'd really choose a flat-chested midget with a cheerleader ponytail and a pert-up button-shaped nose over a sex goddess for reasons that have nothing to do with the l-word. Really.

Really.

C'mon: him and the l-word in the same sentence?

First off, even he is honest enough to find the notion preposterous.

Second off, if anyone – anyone at all, even Damn! Big! Brother! Proto – dared to put his name and the l-world in the same sentence, he would blow them to pieces, family ties or not.

Just think about it: once he will be crowded King of All Robot Masters and Strongest of The Universe, having a lovely, house-cleaning Queen by his side will bring in more votes than carrying his spouse around in a water tank two-stories high.

It is a matter of convenience only.

Really.

It's got nothing to do with how soft and warm and bird-like fragile she'd felt against his chest when he'd saved her from Wily's clutches. Or how he had gone to save her in the first place, pride, family ties, his allegiance to Wily AND the first law of the robotics all but forgotten.

The earnest, spine-thrilling warmth in her eyes when she'd thanked him for his deed, the flush that had suffused her high cheekbones, and the softness of her lips pressed at the corner of his mouth were also irrelevant to his choice.

Of course, there is the minor setback that she is the twin sister of his sworn rival, of all people. Most Wilybots see that as a reason to hurt her, rather than woo her ("Ah! Easiest way to get revenge on him ever!" is what he recalls Reggae saying a moment before being socked into oblivion by yours truly). But frankly, he only sees it as an added bonus.

He just can't wait to rub it into the blueberry twit's face that he is dating his sister.

His sister.

His own and only and precious twin.

That ought to fry his little blue CPU on the spot!

…supposing that Protoman doesn't fry him first, for daring touch his baby sister. But ehy! he isn't scared of anything and anyone, and the visored progenitor of his race isn't a exception.

He bets he can outrun him, if needs be. He hasn't been equipped with wings for nothing, you know?

Besides, Wilybots such as he are sort of destined to have a fixation with Lightbots, but he has no way of knowing this, not yet, so the thought sort of flies over his head and gets lots.

So, for a quick recap: he is asking her out out of convenience.

Not out of feelings.

No feelings whatsoever to be found in this situation, he keeps telling himself, as he stands nervously in front of the Light Household.

No feelings .ever, he repeats again, just for good measure, even as he spits on his palm and rubs and rubs and rubs his helmet to a shine.

No feelings…

…and then Roll is opening the door, not wide, just barely enough for her lovely heart-shaped face to become visible, and she smiles at the sight of him, sweetly and brilliantly, her cheeks dimpling, her eyes crinkling at the corners, glinting in the warm honeyed light of the setting sun, and Bass has to quickly change his internal mantra to: my knees are not turning into mush. Not turning into mush.

Not.

Turning.

Into.

Mush.

With the hope to convince himself in time and avoid looking like a love-struck fool in front of her.

He almost succeeds.

Almost.

~*~おわり~*~

XD

I ADORE torturing Bass. *pinches his cheeks*

Bass: *growls threateningly*