Based on the mini story arc in Questionable Content ( by Jeph Jacques starting at comic 1010. That's 1,010 peoples. All characters belong to J.J. He rocks. I do not. I may or may not write more. Matters on the audience's reaction.
Two weeks. It'd been two weeks since Hannelore had put the chassis of the "robo-boyfriend" that her father had sent her in the closet. After Pintsize and Winslow's reaction to a simple, innocent booty-grab, Hannelore became too afraid to open the door again. Sure, during one of her many vigorous cleaning sessions, she'd glanced at the door, knowing that she had to clean in there sooner or later, but with Winslow around, she felt too embarrassed to open the door and pull the boyfriend-shaped chassis out again. Hannelore's bright green eyes scanned the living room of her apartment, searching for Winslow. He must be downstairs with Pintsize again, Hannelore mused mentally, her brow furrowing a little as her gaze shifted from the closet to the front door, then back again. She did have to clean that closet. Walking into the kitchen, she pulled her bucket o' cleaning utensils and products out from beneath the sink, which was immaculate, compared to other below-sink cabinets. Hannelore returned to the living room, setting the bucket down on the floor beside the closet door. Her pale, slender hand moved towards the doorknob tentatively, then grasped, turning it slowly, opening the closet door.
The robo-boy chassis stood their, having not moved an inch in two weeks, it's back still to her. Hannelore's emerald orbs flickered down towards the robo-booty, and her cheeks burned crimson. She took the empty shell of what her father thought could be her boyfriend, and moved him out of the closet, off to the side, facing the door. Hannelore slipped on her rubber gloves, flicked on the light in the closet, then proceeded to clean every inch of that closet, going over it three times, due to the fact she hadn't cleaned it in such a long time.
Two hours passed and Hannelore was finally satisfied with the cleaning job on the closet. She rarely used that closet, but still. Germs. Ew. Hannelore peeled off her rubber gloves from the inside out, then headed into the kitchen, throwing them in the trash. Returning to the living room, she stood for a moment, looking at the robo-boytoy. Taking a small, tentative step forward, she wrapped her arms around the chassis in a hug, closing her eyes and resting her head against the shoulder, wondering if this was what it was really like. To have someone you can just hold. And be held by.
Unbeknownst to Hannelore, the door to her apartment opened with the help of a slightly more demonic AnthroPC than Winslow, and her AntroPC in iPod-shape walked in, seeing her hugging the robot-boyfriend-body. His eyes widened a little on the screen he had for a face and he backed up slowly, giving Hannelore another minute. If he had gears in his chassis instead of microchips, they'd be grinding away.
Later in the evening, Hannelore had decided to leave the robo-boyfriend out, sitting him down on her couch, airing out his clothes. Or that's what she told Winslow, when he'd returned, wondering why it wasn't in the closet. To be honest, she liked having something, or someone, rather, her size that she could sit beside on the couch in comfortable silence with. During an episode of "Monk", Hannelore fell asleep, her head on the robo-boy's shoulder, and that's when Winslow made his move. He found the USB cord they'd used to upload his personality into the chassis before. He hopped up on the couch, plugging the cord into the spot behind the robo-boyfriend's ear, making sure it was in there, nice and firm. It then took some serious manuerving, but Winslow got the other plug into the USB port on his side. Within a few moments, his 'consciousness' was in the robo-boyfriend once more, and he could feel Hannelore's head on his shoulder. He reached up with his right hand -- He had hands again! Eehee! -- and unplugged the cord from behind his ear, setting his original chassis on the floor gently. Hannelore stirred gently, shifting so she way laying on her side, her head in now-Winslow's lap. Once Winslow knew she was fully asleep again, he lifted his hand gently, touching her shoulder softly. Then curled a lock of her bright blonde hair around a finger. "Hannelore?" He asked softly, his voice sounding odd coming out of the robo-boy body. Deeper, more like, well, a man. Hannelore mumbled sleepily in reply, and Winslow did the first thing that came to mind: Pick Hannelore up and carry the exhausted OCD-afflicted blonde to bed. It took some slight struggling, but Winslow had the sleeping Hanners in his arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her down carefully. He slipped her shoes off, then pulled a blanket over her. Another gears in the head grinding moment later, Winslow settled himself into bed beside her, moving an arm around her chest, one of his hands hovering over her breasts for a moment as the temptation made itself known. He clenched the fist, then relaxed it, moving to rest his arm against her. Hannelore stirred a little, feeling the arm around her, then lifted her hand to touch it softly.
"Thank you, Winslow..." Hannelore whispered, her throat tightening with emotion.
"You're welcome, Hannelore," Winslow replied softly.
End(?)