Disclaimer: I don't know whom the fairy tales belong to, I just know it's not me.

Author's Note: I did this in school a little back. Enjoy. It's a very long version of Cinderella. And if you think this is bad, you should have seen the illustrations I drew along with it...

Magic

It was Current, Inc.'s Normal Durable Everyday Robot of Energy Luptonic Life Artificial, or Cinderella for short. It was the latest technology- not only did it have the abilities proper for a household servant, but it ran on the new Luptonic energy crystals discovered in 2040, one year ago, so that the robot only needed to charge itself once a day, and it could do so when the owning family was asleep.

Not only this, but the robot was almost human. It looked and acted just like a young girl. This, Current Incorporated told the world, was for those who felt uneasy around robots. Not only this, but the robot, for the first time, had feelings. The air intake she had helped her keep power- like breathing. Like a real maid, for half the cost.Soon the first model was ready for mass production. The only problem was that it needed to be tested.

So Current, Inc. held a raffle in the state of Oregon. Send in three dollars, get a ticket. The winner would get a free, three-month trial of the latest Cinderella.

It was no surprise that Rachel Stevenson and her two daughters won- Rachel had put in three thousand dollars, the rumors said. No one knew what Rachel nor the robot looked like, for privacy's sake, but the widowed Rachel was fifty, and her two daughters, Clarissa and Sheryl, were 24 and 23, respectively, when the first Current, Inc.'s Normal Durable Everyday Robot of Energy Luptonic Life Artificial was activated for the first time.

The first thing the robot was aware of was a woman in front of her clapping her hands and saying, "You." The woman, Rachel Stevenson, flipped through the handbook that had come with the robot. "Cinderella, is that it? Well, don't just stand there, start the floor." Cinderella blinked for the first time, and nodded, reaching for a broom and beginning to sweep. Clarissa and Sheryl were staring at her with something like envy and confusion. After all, not only did this new, fancy robot look like a real person, but she looked more perfect than any human could ever achieve. And the Stevenson family was not known for its beautiful women.

Cinderella did not dread her days as a robot. She was made to serve. She had no idea that there was anything else in life but serving the Stevenson family. She did come to dislike her owners, though. Rachel was cruel, though no matter how tough she tried to be, Cinderella could always follow her orders. But Cinderella saw her being cruel to others. Clarissa and Sheryl were both not so bright, but they were just as mean as their mother. Clarissa always looked as though everything disgusted her, and Sheryl was always whining. Both tried to be better than the other, which was really quite amusing to Cinderella, since she was better than both of them.

The Stevenson family was out shopping about a month after the raffle winners were announced. Of course, Cinderella was there too, carrying an impossibly high stack of packages with precise balance. Passing a television store, Rachel stopped by the display televisions turned to the news.

"This just in," said the news reporter. "His Royal Highness, Prince Charles of Alaska has told us that he will be holding a dinner party on April the third, his birthday." Everyone knew who Prince Charles was. He was the youngest son of King Marcus, the man who had separated Alaska from the 49 States of America and made it a monarchy. "It is rumored that he will be looking for a date at the party," continued the reporter. "And now for a closer look at the rainfall in India..." started the reporter, leaving the subject of the ball behind. But Rachel was looking with glazed eyes and a determined look at the screen. Cinderella had been around long enough to know what that meant: One way or another, Rachel Stevenson was getting her children to that party.

Cinderella didn't have much offhand knowledge of parties, but, reaching into her internal database, she found the definition. It didn't help much (4. A social gathering: a dinner party. Ex: I was invited to the party). But whatever it was, Rachel was going.

Sure enough, two days later, the invitation arrived, marked with the royal seal of Alaska and written in loopy handwriting. It read:

'You are cordially invited to a dinner party on the third of April in honor of Prince Charles of the Royal Republic of Alaska's twenty-fifth birthday. It will be held at the Royal Palace from 8:00 PM to 2:00 AM. Please reply as soon as possible if you can come.'

And of course, the Stevensons could come. Cinderella was staying at home while the three Stevensons attended the ball. "You don't mind, do you, dear?" asked Rachel Stevenson the night she was leaving on the plane to Alaska in that oily tone that said she could care less.

"I am here to serve," said Cinderella simply, for she knew nothing else to say. Her compliance partly annoyed Rachel, because it meant she was even more perfect than her daughters, but for the most part Rachel Stevenson didn't care. So Cinderella was left alone at home that night while her three superiors were on a hoverjet, first class, headed for Alaska from Salem International Hoverport. It was on that same night that someone rang the doorbell.

Cinderella turned on the video camera, which showed a picture of the visitor and said, "I'm sorry, but the owners of this house are out." An old lady's face was shown in the video camera. The wrinkles on her face were pushed upward as she smiled.

"I know that," said the old lady. "I got the Prince to send them the invitation in the first place. I came here to talk to you." Cinderella frowned. A sort of slight twisting was inside her. She let the woman in.

"Why would you want to see me?" asked Cinderella as the woman sat down in the dining room.

"I am Jane Parker," introduced the woman. "I am the president of the SRAI, the Society for the Rights of Artificial Intelligence. I have come, to put it frankly, to try and get you a life."

"I have a life," said Cinderella calmly. "I serve the Stevensons." Her only feeling was confusion. Didn't she have a life? She knew no other life than this. But the twisting inside her was continuing, a little deeper this time. Perhaps she was malfunctioning? Checking her systems, she found she was in perfect condition. A side effect, then?

"No, that is not what I mean," said Jane Parker, brushing aside Cinderella's comment. "I mean to get you treated as a human, not as some slave. Your creators gave you a human body, human feelings. I want to give you the life of a human."

"What do humans do that I do not?" asked Cinderella. "The only thing that they do that I do not is breathe, sleep, and eat. And I can do many things far better than a human can. What am I missing?" This twisting, is it a feeling? Or some other human thing they wanted me to have? Why?

"You are not treated as an equal," said Jane Parker. "Most of the girls now are doing what your owners," Jane put a bit of scorn into the word, "are doing tonight- going to the dinner party and hoping that Prince Charles whatever will marry them. I'm here to give you a chance."

"You are?" asked Cinderella. "What do you mean? I can be treated as a real girl? I'm not already?" It seemed impossible, against anything Cinderella had ever been programmed to think. But she had also been programmed to think as a human, and to a human, nothing was impossible.

Jane leaned forward. "I saw you checking your systems a little earlier. Will you tell me why?"

Cinderella thought. "It was... something inside me was twisting, almost fluttering. I thought something inside me was going wrong."

The aged woman nodded. "This is a little different. Something was going wrong, except it wasn't physical. This was an emotion."

"A feeling, especially a strong or intense feeling, as of love, joy, fear, etcetera, often accompanied by complex physiological changes," said Cinderella, nodding. "I know."

"Not really, since you haven't experienced them before this."

"This twisting was an emotion? Do humans feel like this all the time?" Jane chuckled.

"No, no, of course not. That would be most uncomfortable, as you were feeling confusion, maybe some doubt and unease as well. No, there are many emotions, and some of them are worth all the rest."

Cinderella paused. She was taking the word of a complete stranger. But something inside her, some feeling, was telling her that Jane Parker could be trusted. Maybe she should trust her emotions. Maybe... Cinderella decided to speak.

"You can help me explore more... emotions, and help me become... human?" she said uncertainly. But something was lifting inside her. Something like... hope.

Jane Parker smiled. "Only if you want to."

Cinderella, nodded and smiled. Things were becoming more comfortable. "I do want to. But how can we get to Alaska from Oregon? The party started exactly two hours, one minute and thirty-seven seconds ago."

Jane Parker held up a plane ticket. "We're only thirty minutes from the Salem International Airport, and it only takes a half-hour to get to Alaska by hoverjet. You can get there by 11:30 if we leave now." And now there was no second doubt in Cinderella's artificial mind- she was going to the ball just like every other girl.

"How did you get the tickets?" asked Cinderella, feeling drawn back and shaken. Shocked?

Jane smiled. "Magic."

Cinderella frowned at this. More doubt. "Magic isn't real," she said.

"Only if you don't believe in it." Even so, Cinderella shook her head. Jane just smiled.

As they headed out the door, Jane said, "I hope you won't mind if I got you economy-class tickets."

The woman and the robot walked down the driveway and entered a comfortable SUV. "Airport," said Jane, and off the car went, automatically driving to their destination. Jane leaned towards Cinderella.

"Now, when was the last time you charged your Luptonic crystals?" asked Jane.

"Approximately twenty-two point five hours ago," said Cinderella. She was worried. She only had one and a half hours left before she would shut down and recharge. That wasn't nearly enough time. Jane frowned.

"I can't make you last through the night," said Jane, "but I can give you these." She pulled out two slippers made from Flexi-glass, the newest element on the periodic table- flexible glass. But unlike normal shoes, these had tiny outlets in the bottom where Cinderella's feet would be. Turning the shoes over, Cinderella saw the outlets were connected to. "They'll only give you another thirty minutes," said Jane apologetically. "It was hard to hide the battery packs in the first place- you have size 1.25 feet. That's smaller than any human foot."

"Thirty minutes will have to be enough," said Cinderella. She would have to leave the ball at approximately 11:55, if she was to have time to recharge.

As the SUV approached the airport, Jane Parker handed Cinderella a dress.

"What is this for?" asked Cinderella.

"An evening gown. You didn't expect to go to the dinner party in the simple clothes you're wearing, did you?" asked Jane.

"Actually, I did," admitted Cinderella. Her cheeks felt warm, and she almost recoiled. Was this... embarrassment? Shyness? "I guess there's a whole lot more to being human than I thought."

"Yes, much more," agreed Jane. "Now, enter Terminal 1 and go to Gate 47."

"You're not coming with me?" asked Cinderella. It was the unease, again, stronger than ever. She didn't feel ready to do this by herself. But something inside her stirred- this was something new.

"No," said Jane firmly. "If you want to help yourself become more human, let yourself experience human feelings- all of them, not just the good ones. Good luck, love."

So Cinderella nervously boarded the flight departing from Gate 47 and waited. She found she actually enjoyed being on her own and experiencing the human feelings she had never let herself feel before. She felt surprised when she looked out the window and found that they had already departed. Cinderella felt exhilarated when she saw how fast the hoverjet moved. All these new emotions- anticipation was one, anticipating the party, and nervousness was another- were you supposed to end up at parties late? Cinderella could hardly wait.

Outside the airport, dressed in her evening gown, Cinderella realized from her internal maps that she couldn't walk to the Royal Palace. It was just too far away. Perhaps a taxi driver noticed her looking lost, because a taxi stopped and a man asked her where she wanted to go.

What was it called. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, searching databases. "The Royal Palace," said Cinderella. The man grinned.

"One more person looking for a royal date. Well, come in, then." It was a good thing this hadn't happened forty years ago, Cinderella realized, because that was before the Taxi Act of 2025, when all taxis became public services and were free of charge. Cinderella had no money for a ride.

Upon reaching the royal palace, Cinderella stepped out of the taxi and waved her hand at him as she had seen many other humans do, hoping it was the right gesture. It seemed to be okay, because the man waved his hand back in the same fashion and drove off. Even though she was completely mechanical, Cinderella could have sworn that she felt her heart flutter. That was a silly thing to think, admonished Cinderella a moment later. Hearts don't flutter, especially mechanical ones. But it was wonderful, just a moment, to believe.

The door was open. Cinderella walked elegantly and perfectly up the stairs and a footman opened the door for her. She held her breath. These emotions, these feelings, they were building up inside her, until she felt like she might die of overdose.

The ballroom was majestic and vast. One side of the room was dedicated to many long tables, all with marvelous silver platters of food and every kind of drink from expensive French wine to the latest soda pop. On one side there was a stack of golden plates and silver tableware, and lights winked at Cinderella from all the reflective surfaces. Cinderella saw more twinkling above, and looked up to see twelve shining chandeliers, with so many crystals, as if to make up for the lack of stars. On a stage to the far corner, twelve of the finest musicians played a tune, which filled the hall up to the fixtures on which the chandeliers were hung. Many women, and not quite so many men, were all dancing on the velvety scarlet carpet adorning the white marble floor. Cinderella quickly spotted the Stevensons, in the crowd surrounding the Prince.

With so many people coming and going, almost no one noticed her entrance. But the Prince tiredly looked up to the doors, and a look of wonder came into his eyes. Somehow separating himself from the women and girls all around, he walked over to Cinderella. The robot by the door was worried about what her owning family might think, but out of the corner of her eyes she saw the three huffily walking over to the banquet. So she smiled and took the Prince's hand.

They danced as the musicians finished the song: Prince Charles' strong arms seemed to whirl Cinderella around as she flawlessly waltzed along. Several angry-looking glares were thrown Cinderella's way, but she didn't really care. Her head was spinning, her heart was whirling, her eyes caught the glitter of stars and it was like she was flying. Cinderella wanted to keep dancing forever... no wonder humans danced, if the wonderful feelings that came with them were so glorious. But the song ended, and Charles let go of her hands. Cinderella let go, reluctantly, but the prince looked at her questioningly.

"Would you like to come out on the balcony?" Barely breathing, Cinderella nodded. Charles led Cinderella to look out on the balcony, the city lights winking below.

"I suppose you already know who I am," said Prince Charles. "Who are you?"

Cinderella replied, "Cinderella," praying that the Prince didn't follow the discoveries of Current Inc. in Oregon. Luckily, he seemed not to notice anything. A flutter, and a sigh from inside her came. Relief, Cinderella supposed.

"Where are you from?" he asked. She tensed again.

"Oregon," replied Cinderella, hoping this wouldn't sound strange. It didn't, and she relaxed again.

They chatted for a while. Cinderella was stunned at this man- he wasn't a robot, but he was perfect. She was lost in the sound of his voice, the touch of his hand. Everything in her longed to be a real girl, because she knew that all she could do, being a robot, is fall helplessly in love and break her own heart.

"This is really awkward- I'm staring at a girl I just met and danced with for a few minutes, and I find..." said Charles.

"You find...?" asked Cinderella, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"I find that I love her," said Charles. Cinderella's mechanical heart skipped a beat. Then she felt a feeling of worry. Not only would she break her own heart, she would break the Prince's, too. But she couldn't say anything now. She couldn't break his heart willingly... Most of the information downloaded into Cinderella's brain, not including some of the literature, said that robots couldn't feel, couldn't fall in love, and couldn't have broken hearts. Cinderella was breaking all those rules. The twisting, the flying, the immense mixture of feelings from inside her gave in to one truth: she loved Charles and she couldn't break his heart. "I love you too," she said softly.

Bong!

The church bell signaled the first of twelve rings to come. Cinderella panicked. She would shut down in exactly... one minute and thirty-five seconds. Thirty-four. Thirty-three. The startled robot ran for the ballroom, startling several dancers, and dashed out the door. One of her high heels slipped off, but Cinderella was too frantic to care. Outside, she didn't catch a taxi- it would take too much time. Instead, the disheveled robot ran for the Royal Gardens, hiding herself so that no one would find her until she was done charging. She could hear the uproar in the ballroom, Charles' voice drifting outside, carried by the breeze...

Three. Two. One. All systems shut down and Current, Inc.'s Normal Durable Everyday Robot of Energy Luptonic Life Artificial was left in the garden, alone, the broken hopes of a young girl trapped inside.

Opening her eyes, Cinderella sighed. It had been a wonderful night. She would never be the same. Images of Charles flashed through her mind, and she sadly shook them away. She was a robot. Charles was a human, a wonderful, charming, human...

All she could do was change and go to the nearest computer and download the name of the hotel where the Stevensons were staying. They would be annoyed to find she had come here without them, but they would be happy that their servant was here so they could boss her around a bit more.

Sure enough, Rachel Stevenson was not exactly satisfied, but happy that her servant had come all the way to the Republic of Alaska to serve her. "You can start by vacuuming the floor," she told Cinderella. "You would think that the hotel would actually clean it!" said Rachel, and Cinderella nodded trying to push thoughts of the ball out of her mind.

Clarissa didn't help. "Don't you want to know how the ball was?" she asked.

"How was it?" asked Cinderella.

"Marvelous," said Sheryl.

"Stunning," added Clarissa.

"Stupendous," said Sheryl, trying to outdo her sister.

"Spliferenderous," said Clarissa, under the impression she had said a real word.

"Did you dance with the prince?" asked Cinderella. Poor Charles, she added in her mind.

"Of course. It was obvious he liked me best."

"No it wasn't, he liked me."

"Me!"

"No, there was that other girl he liked more than you..." Both girls stopped.

"What other girl?" asked Cinderella. She hoped no one would notice how softly she spoke, how glorious she felt when the prince was mentioned.

"Some girl came in only for about thirty minutes and went out on the balcony with the prince," said Rachel quickly. "Don't ask questions."

The three humans and the robot were about to go check out of the hotel when there was a knock on the door. Cinderella opened it sadly, then stopped, stunned.

"Excuse me miss, but we have orders to try this shoe on every girl in the kingdom." In the royal scribe's hand was the shoe Cinderella had lost. The prince was behind him, brooding and nervous. Cinderella was so disheveled that the prince didn't even recognize her when he looked at her. But Cinderella recognized him. If she had been human, her breath would have been coming in gasps.

Clarissa was first. She tried to stuff that foot in that shoe, but it just wouldn't fit. If the shoe had been made of real glass instead of flexible glass, it would have broken.

"My turn," said Sheryl, joyful that her sister's foot hadn't fit. But then it was her turn to pout and scream as the shoe twisted and turned while Sheryl tried to cram it on her foot.

Even Rachel tried it on, despite her daughter's complaints that she was too old and her feet were too big. Both comments were proved true. The scribe turned towards Cinderella.

"It wouldn't be her," said Rachel Stevenson quickly. "She's only a maid- she wasn't even at the ball."

"We have to try it on her anyway," said the scribe dutifully, and Cinderella closed her eyes and felt her foot slide neatly into the shoe. The flexi-glass accepted her synthetic skin, cool and light to Cinderella's senses. The three Stevensons' mouths dropped.

The Prince pulled Cinderella up by the hand and stared into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered. Cinderella turned, looking for any escape as she looked for a way to tell the prince the truth. She didn't want to see his face turn away in denial, see the disbelief in his eyes as she told him why she could never love him... her feelings were building up into the ball of love and frustration and hate and anger and hope and wonder and sadness and joy and nervousness and pain and ease and love and love and love...

And love... A few tears leaked from Cinderella's eyes.

Robots can't cry.

Cinderella, startled, tried to reach her internal clock. It wasn't working. Or maybe... maybe it wasn't there. Putting her hand on her chest, she felt a soft, thump-thump. All was silent for a moment, and Cinderella could hear her soft breaths. In... out... in... out... She no longer knew what the exact time was. Her mind did not have the knowledge of centuries of documentaries and literature. But she knew she loved Charles. That was enough.

Looking back into his eyes, Cinderella put her hand in Prince Charles'. "I love you, too," she whispered, faint from happiness and confusion. Why was she not a robot? What was going on? Her glance fell on the doorway.

There, in the open doorway, grinning at her, was Jane Parker. Cinderella stared at her, and Jane smiled and waved.

"Who are you? Why are you in my room?" asked Rachel, stunned and confused at why her robot was suddenly not a robot anymore. "What just happened?"

Cinderella smiled, and slipped her hand into the Prince's. "Magic," she said simply.

Epilogue

Cinderella and Charles had many long years of happiness. During their years of ruling Alaska, they made many peace treaties between warring countries and joined Jane Parker as she went to courts around the world, protesting for robot rights. In 2065, the Robot Act was made, stating that any artificial life form would have rights. But people probably didn't need to worry after all. Rachel Stevenson's report to Current Incorporated told them to stick to making robots without human personalities- hers was so human it had run away.

Neither Clarissa nor Sheryl got married, but eventually moved to opposite sides of the country. Clarissa was known in her community as the crabbiest cashier at Wal-Mart, and Sheryl became a PE teacher for students at the Central High School of Alabama. All her students dreaded her classes. Rachel Stevenson moved to a senior community and played bridge twice a week.

Even after the Robot Act was made, Jane Parker traveled around the world, making dreams come true and miracles happen. She won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2080 for settling the conflict between Israel and Palestine. When asked how she had done what had seemed like an impossible feat, Jane replied, eyes twinkling, with one word: "Magic."