What is this feeling?
How do I explain it?'
At this point our little "talk" turned into a stare-off, as usual. His cute, pouting stare against my blank, thoughtful one. I cant win-I never do-but today, I stretched the seconds a bit longer. Maybe today I can come up with an answer before...
As if on cue, his eyes flashed the way they do when he wants something.
Oh he wanted it so badly.
I diverted my eyes, trying to distract myself.
I'm not giving in today, not until I give him his answer.
You can do this.
You are an invader!
You are an invader?
...No, you are a fool.
A fool...for him.
For your own robot...
You're HIS servant.
He's got you wrapped around his finger.
You try to deny it, to hide it.
And though you know not why, you bow to his every whim.
Yes, yes you do know why.
It's that feeling.
That word.
And if you could find out what it was, and tell him...
Maybe thats the only way to break the spell he has on you.
But then, what if it gave him more power?
Would we battle over who gives it more meaning?
Wait a second...
...isn't that something the humans do when they...
He cut my thoughts short with a whine.
A long, pleading, desperate whine.
"Zimmmyyy..."

And for a moment I felt like I was in charge here.
What is it called?
Dominant?
Yes, I felt dominant.
For the first time since I became a fool for him.
I knew he was just acting, I knew that all too well, but I enjoyed all 6 seconds of it.
I loved the way he emphasized each syllable of that adorable little nickname he'd given me.
I inhaled sharply, taking it in.
Then I noticed something.
The plea transformed into almost a demand as he cut it off.
That feeling that I'm trying to explain... it wasn't there, nowhere to be found in his voice.
What's it called?
This feeling he seems to lack?
Affection.
Thats it.
He cannot show affection.
He's a robot.
He's mine.
So, to show affection for your posession is...
Caring about it?
When you care about something you take care of it.
You treasure it.
If you truly care for it, you do whatever it asks of you.
You pamper it, nurture it, keep it safe...
Never in all my life have I not figured something out.
And as a scientist, it shouldn't have taken me this long.

My eyes locked with his.
"I have something to say..."
His eyes widened a bit in surprise, and slight disbelief.
I slipped my hand in his and squeezed, quite unsure of what to say.
What could I say?
Just say how I feel?
"Gir, I care about you..."

I guess I said something wrong.
He burst out laughing.
Ok Zim, lets take a step back.
This is like an experiment.
Problem, hypothesis, experiment, results, conclusion.
He's laughing at me...
Conclusion? I was wrong.
Error? Error? Where's the error?
In the hypothesis, right...
He continued to laugh as I sorted it out.
I started removing elements from the equation, and plugging more in.
Many were just guess work.
But one stuck.
He's a person in my eyes.
And if anyone is a posession here it's me.
He owns me.
Since my other hypothesis is obviously incorrect, this feeling I feel must be more.
So what? Does it mean he has no obligations, since I am his? Should his feelings not be equal to mine?
Does it matter?
Since I am his, does it give him the liberty to have a lesser feeling?
Or worse, none at all?
Will I forever be doomed to not have my feelings returned?

This seems so.
Whatever I caught in his voice earlier seems to fit the description.

But now...
Right now...
The twinkle in his eyes...
His cute laugh...
They seem almost as genuine is my feelings...

Oh, who am I, but a scientist?
I'm no poet.
I understand this feeling, but have no means to describe it.
Will I ever be able to tell him?
If he doesnt feel this too, he wouldnt be able to help me.
And I could express it but...that would entail him getting what he's asking for.
And then I would have nothing to bribe him with, to tell me what this means.

He stroked my cheek and chuckled softly.
"You're so silly.
I love you for it, though."

That was it...
That word...

Love.

It sent my heart racing, and my head spinning.

Love.

I blushed uncontrollably, flattening my antennae against my head.
He kissed my hand that was still gripping his.

"You're so cute sometimes, you know."

I giggled, butterflies going crazy, tying a knot in my squeedily-spooch.

At that, my consiousness wavered, and I knew that by tomorrow, I'd be too love-dazed to remember that simple little phrase. And he'd have to teach me what it meant again.

I love you.