Disclaimer: this story uses characters and situations copyright Capcom.

Author's note: I have a particular interpretation of the Colonel-Iris relationship that I detail in an earlier story, "Broken Glass". You don't need to read that story to get this one, but this one's probably funnier if you have. Regardless, enjoy.

"So we're going to go ahead with it?" Zero asked.

"If you want to," Iris demurred, as deferential as ever. The two Maverick Hunters were headed away from the Commander's office. Inside, Commander Grant, a human charged with leading robots that policed other robots, was reviewing the latest mission metrics. "But it would be fun," she added.

Ahead of them, one of the Maverick Hunter squad leaders approached. Blitz, Zero remembered with some difficulty. Designed more for speed than power, that came readily to Zero's mind. Blitz had only been a squad leader for a few months. That made Zero, who'd held the rank for years, the senior of the two- not that Zero ever found times when that mattered to him.

Zero's tactical subroutine idly drew up three ways to kill Blitz, but Zero was used to ignoring tactical's advice for allies.

"We'll talk later," Zero said to Iris. The operator nodded, smiled at him (Zero's processing hung up for a moment at that), and split off down a side hallway. Zero's eyes followed her for a moment, then snapped back to Blitz. "Blitz," he called out.

The junior squad leader looked mildly impressed. "You remembered my name," he said.

"I'm getting a little better," Zero said, trying not to be defensive. "I need to ask you something. You... know humans better than I do."

Blitz blinked in surprise. "Okay, sure."

"Have you ever heard of 'cheesecake'?"

Blitz frowned. "No, but I can guess. It sounds like a human food. Why?"

"It came up while I was in Commander Grant's office."

"Huh." Blitz cocked his head to the side. "The Commander's never looked poorly fed to me. He looks like he has plenty of spare fuel."

"I don't know," Zero said, "but Iris says he's skipping meals. She says he feels hungry. It bothers her."

"Well, plenty of things bother Iris," said Blitz. His crooked smile suggested that he was trying to force a joke. Zero fixed his junior with a stony, unwavering gaze. Slowly, it dawned on Blitz that he might have made a mistake. "B-but she is the expert in how people feel," he allowed, recovering badly.

A curt nod from Zero let Blitz off the hook; the junior squad leader gave a look Zero usually associated with surviving explosions. It was Zero's turn to struggle. "So... I guess he wants cheesecake?"

"He should get some then," Blitz replied.

"Hm," said Zero, unsatisfied. He brushed past Blitz and walked away without another word.

Blitz watched afterwads, entranced by the side-to-side flick of Zero's hair. What hair! Maybe a dozen Hunters had hair, and none had hair anything like that. Zero was weird. Fearsome, but weird.

And so was Iris, for that matter- they were both weird. That was why she was his operator, Blitz supposed, and probably why they worked so well together.

Cheesecake...

Blitz changed his plan, and headed for squad leader's country.

"I'm just saying, I'm gonna follow X's lead. I'm gonna act like the new hunting guidelines don't exist. I'll follow the old rules."

The words made Klaxon Crab sigh at his fellow squad leader. "And what'll you do when your numbers grind?"

"What's X gonna do?" Vertos countered.

Klaxon snapped a claw just loudly enough to be unmistakable. "That's not an answer. X doesn't have to do anything. He's X. He's got the benefit of every doubt ever doubted. You, on the other claw, don't. I was asking about you."

"Who says my numbers are gonna grind?" Vertos said, dodging questions as casually and effectively as he dodged Maverick firepower.

Klaxon's eyestalks lowered. "The new numbers are designed to up the number of Mavericks we hunt. If you don't follow the new rules, you won't hit the new quotas for hunting. I shouldn't have to explain that to a squad leader."

"Oh, I get the idea," Vertos said with a too-clever grin. "But if noone hits the target, then the target is bad. I won't hit quota, and 17th Squad won't hit quota- X told us as much. Zero does what he wants, and hunting reploids who aren't fighting back bores him, so 0th Squad probably won't hit quota, either. That's three squads right there. So who is following the new guidelines?"

"Magma Dragoon."

Vertos' smile faltered. "Really?"

"Yeah. I saw his squad's numbers this morning. He's racking up quite a body count. It's making the rest of us look bad."

"That depends on what 'bad' means." Vertos gave Klaxon a pained look. "You're not following the new guidelines, are you?"

Klaxon shook his whole torso side-to-side- not having a neck made some gestures complicated. "No."

"Good," said Vertos with relief. "I want to stay friends with you."

"So your strategy won't work," said Klaxon, returning to the point. "There are Hunters who'll hunt any ol' reploid if they think that's what the boss wants, and that makes us stick out as underperformers. And that means we need a strategy to handle Commander Grant."

"What's your strategy?" Vertos said sourly.

"I don't have one yet. Step one was to convince you that we needed one."

The door opened. The two squad leaders slammed their mouths shut and looked to the door. They relaxed when they say it was Blitz. "Phew, I thought it was someone important," Vertos joked at his peer.

"And here I thought your conversation was important," Blitz shot back, but he seemed distracted.

"It was," Klaxon said after the door went shut. "We were talking about how to get on Commander Grant's good side. Do you have any ideas?"

Blitz's eyes were unfocused. "Maybe. I... hey, do any of you know where I can buy a cheesecake?"

Whatever Vertos and Klaxon were expecting him to say, that wasn't it. "What's a cheesecake?"

That seemed to startle Blitz. "Nothing," he said, and hurried nervously to his quarters. "I'll look it up myself."

Vertos and Klaxon looked after Blitz as he shut his door. They gave each other sideways glances. "I... uh..." Vertos started.

"I need to go to my quarters," Klaxon blurted. "I need to... to..."

"Look something up," Vertos finished.

"Yeah."

They scuttled away from each other.

"You know, Iris, you're off-duty. You don't have to hang around the ops center."

"I understand that," said the junior Operator. "I was just swinging by to see if I could help with- oh, Commander!"

The three on-shift Operators stiffened and half-turned. In theory, operations were supposed to continue as normal when the Commander came to the ops center. In reality, his arrival got their full attention. Only Iris was unperturbed. "Here to do your log reviews?" she asked, walking towards him with a tablet.

"Right on time," he said. "I demand punctuality, which means I need to have it, too."

She gave him a stern look. "Have you been skipping meals again, sir?"

He answered with a grimace-smile. "You can read that now, huh?"

"Humans are still harder for me than reploids," she admitted, "but I'm learning. I can recognize hunger even if I can't feel it myself. And you're very hungry, sir."

"Can't hide anything from you. Yes, I missed lunch today. I just never seem to have time to catch a decent meal. And I'll be late to my next appointment if I don't hurry, so show me the logs and let's get on with it."

"Of course," she said amiably. She moved beside him to bring up what he needed.

Behind her, all three on-duty Operators were whispering furiously into their headsets.

Altern was frowning as he walked. Were the Hunters short-circuiting around him?

A door opened in front of him, catching his eye. He stopped in his tracks. "Sir," he said automatically- and just as automatically felt foolish.

Signas smiled gently. "You don't have to 'sir' someone of the same rank," he said with practiced tones.

Except you'll be a squad leader the second an opening appears, and everyone knows it, Altern thought to himself.

"In fact," Signas went on, "you made Azzle before I did. If anything, I should be sir-ing you."

"That's static talking," Altern replied, and he would have blushed if he'd been built with that ability. "I'll see you around."

"Looks like we're headed in the same direction," said Signas, falling into step beside him. "Are you going down to the hangar?"

"Yeah. My squad leader's sending me on an errand."

"Same here," Signas noted. "Though it doesn't make much sense to me."

Altern smiled. "I know how that goes. 'Ours is not to reason why...'"

"I've never liked that saying," Signas said distastefully. "I've always believed a Hunter should try to understand what his boss is trying to achieve. That way he can help his boss- he can do things his boss never imagined. If he knows the 'why', he can improvise the 'how'."

Altern grinned. "How's that working out for you this time?"

Signas had appropriate chagrin. "It does depend on your boss actually telling you the 'why'."

"And him remembering what the 'why' was," Altern added, thinking of Zero.

As they entered the hangar, they saw Blitz running by at a substantial fraction of combat speed. The squad leader hopped aboard a hover cycle and, in the blink of an eye, was zooming out of the hangar. "Looks like someone's running his own errands," said Altern. "Speaking of which, where are you headed? We might be able to carpool."

"My boss told me to hurry," Signas objected.

"So? Mine did too."

Signas shifted and his lips pursed, which was as close as the stoic reploid came to showing embarassment. "I'm going to Bob's Bakery."

Altern blinked. "Wow, what are the odds?"

"Huh?"

"Signas," said Altern, slowly, "were you ordered to go pick up some cheesecake?"

The two assistant squad leaders looked at each other for a long moment. Then Signas smiled and opened the door of one of the Hunters' cans. "Get in. I'll drive."

Altern complied, and when the two Hunters were seated, he said, "I've got another phrase I picked up from the humans. They saved it for times like this. 'The gods must be crazy.'"

Signas laughed. "That one I like."

Bob opened his bakery more because he liked baking than because he liked money. Even three years later, it still blew his mind a little that he'd succeeded- succeeded enough to bring on extra hands to help, enough to pay off the startup loan. That was why he retained a few poor-man's habits, like tending the counter himself from time to time.

He'd seen a lot of different kinds of people come through his shop. Even reploids, on rare occasions, picking something up for the humans they knew. Two in one day, though? That was a record.

"One slice of New York style cheesecake with cherry topping," Bob said, handing the imposing, official-looking reploid a box. Bob recognized Maverick Hunter insignia on his customers, and that made him more confused, not less. Whatever, their zenny was as good as anyone's.

"You have an advantage," the tall reploid said to his slimmer counterpart. "You worked with humans before you became a Hunter. You actually know a little about their food."

The retort was, "Yeah, and that's why you let me order first. They say you have the most precise processors in the Hunters, but I wonder if that's just a nice word for plagiarism-"

The door rattled violently, the bell tied to it all a-jangle. Bob looked up and saw a third reploid- a year's quota- barging in with obvious haste. "Careful, careful," Bob chided.

The slim reploid laughed at the newcomer. "Overshot a bit there, Blitz?"

The newcomer didn't look; he just stalked for the counter. He got there, opened his mouth- and no sound came out. He frowned.

Bob recognized this. "Don't even know where to start, huh?"

"See you later, Blitz," said the other reploids as they slipped out of the door. Blitz shot them a look of pure malice.

Bob had to shake his head at the antics. "Next time the Hunters send someone for food, they should send someone who actually has taste buds," he said. "So, what'll it be? You want some cheesecake too, I'm guessing."

"Yeah," said Blitz. "Some... uh..."

"We've got half-a-dozen styles and a dozen toppings," Bob pointed out. "Look, how about I pick for you?"

"Yes," said the reploid, sagging in relief. "Just... give me something other than what those two got. Oh, and more of it."

Bob smiled as the cash register in his head made a 'cha-ching' sound. "Comin' right up," he said cheerily.

"Here you go," Altern told his boss, handing him a small box. "One slice of New York-style cheesecake with cherry topping."

"Good job," said Vertos.

"Hey, boss, mind filling me in?" Altern asked. "A few other Hunters were getting cheesecake at the same place. What's up?"

Vertos' eyes widened. "Other Hunters were getting cheesecake?"

"Yeah, why?"

There was no time to explain. Vertos pushed past his subordinate and out into the hallway. He collided with Klaxon Crab. Instantly their eyes went to the box each was holding. "Don't tell me..." Klaxon started.

"Some friend you are," Vertos scoffed. "Trying to edge me out!"

"You rotten ingrate, it was my idea in the first place!"

"Outta the way," Vertos said, taking advantage of Klaxon's awkward center of gravity to push him back. Before he could take more than a step, an impossibly strong claw clamped down on his ankle and pulled his foot out from under him.

"No one undercuts a crab," Klaxon said.

"Says the guy who- hey, look."

Both of them saw a third Hunter squad leader emerging. He didn't have a box, but he did have a plate, and the plate had something suspicious on it.

"Is that cheesecake?" Vertos accused.

The squad leader looked down at it, looked back at his competition, and ran.

Vertos and Klaxon wordlessly agreed to a truce, and the both of them scrambled to their feet.

Hunters running to and fro was a common thing in Hunter Base, where emergencies were routine. Rarely, though, were dairy-based baked goods involved in these emergencies. So when the other Hunters in the Base had to make way for the rampaging squad leaders, they afterwards had to question what it was they'd just seen. Almost none of the other Hunters knew from cheesecake, and only a handful recognized human food when they saw it. Even for them, the picture was simply absurd.

"Almost there," said Vertos as they pulled into the straightaway to the Commander's office.

"Ha! Caught ya!" Blitz vaulted over Klaxon's compact frame, tucked into a roll (centered, of course, on an oversized slice of cheesecake), and pulled back up into a run. Vertos and Klaxon grimaced and accelerated, but the fourth squad leader was the first to arrive. The door fairly flew open and all four squad leaders were talking at once.

"Sir, I heard you were hungry! Have I got what you need..."

"IbroughtyoucheesecakeIknewyouwantedsomesohereitis-"

"You want this one, it's New York style and it's... red!"

"Mine is red too but I was here first!"

"Iwasherebeforeeitherofthemandmysliceisthebiggestofallifyou'rehungryandIknowyouarebecausethat'swhyyouwantcheesecake-"

Commander Grant's astonishment was curdling.

"This is the one you want, it has these brown swirly things in it-"

"My cheesecake is the best!"

"Yours is the same as mine!"

"Take both our cheesecakes and pretend it's one big slice-"

The Commander stood.

"Hereyougosirtakethisone-"

"This is the best in the house, sir, promise!"

"Don't forget us!"

"...sir?"

The room began to quiet at the look of disgust on the Commander's face. Soon all were silent. Then Blitz, hopefully, offered up his slice. "Cheesecake, sir?"

"Are you making fun of me?!" Grant exploded. "I'm lactose intolerant!"

The room fell to silence. The venom in the words was unmistakable. Nothing else was. So they stood, still as only robots can achieve, waiting for understanding, too awkward even to exchange glances to share how awkward they felt, while Commander Grant took heavy, angry breaths in their general direction.

Finally, the boldest of the squad leaders murmured, "Sir... what's lactose?"

As robotics advanced, roboticists faced a quandary. The better senses they gave their robots, the more storage capacity they needed. The trouble was that storage capacity improved linearly over time, but because progress was made in giving robots all five senses, storage demand scaled exponentially.

Oddly, the solution was found in the same technology that helped robots achieve sentience. A mind that could judge what was important, and hold its own identity, was able to levy those same judgements on its memories. Memories were kept and understood and filtered by that mind, which decided (based on subconscious algorithms) which ones to keep. This went a long way towards resolving the storage problems.

Some time later, roboticists doing a meta-analysis of the great Dr. Light and Dr. Wily realized that this 'solution' recapitulated a lot of the problems with human memories. The masters had made robots' memories as unreliable and subject to change as human memories, just in digital format at high resolution. The science had spent the next ten years wrestling with whether that was a bug or a feature.

So as the dazed squad leaders exited the Commander's Office, unwanted cheesecake carelessly held in shamed hands, the question all of them had but none of them could answer was, "Whose idea was this?"

"Zero!"

Blitz pointed at the senior squad leader, who was headed past them back to Commander Grant's office. Zero stopped. "What?"

"This was your idea, wasn't it?"

Zero blinked heavily. "What idea?"

"The cheesecake," Blitz said desperately. "Aren't you the one who said the Commander wanted cheesecake?"

Zero looked away from everyone and his eyes slipped out of focus. Two seconds went by- three- four- Zero looked back to the group and said, simply, "I don't remember."

No one could gainsay him.

Four squad leaders completely deflated.

"Colonel, the troops are ready for your inspection."

"Great!" said Colonel, almost giddy.

"Sir?" said his unnerved adjutant.

Colonel composed himself. "I will be along shortly. Stand by."

The adjutant nodded and moved away. Colonel took a moment, and closed his eyes. As he suspected, his enthusiasm wasn't entirely his own. Iris- his conjoined-brain twin- was laughing. Merriment was around her. Colonel didn't know the cause- the link didn't work like that- but he got the sense that it was of Iris' making. She'd done something that made her happy.

And Zero, Colonel realized belatedly- he had a unique feel that Iris, and so Colonel, could place. They were both happy about something they had done. Good. Those two were good for each other.

Colonel smiled genuinely. Those two being happy made him happy. That wasn't always good, though. He had his own responsibilities, and while he enjoyed them, he didn't enjoy them this much. The trick would be to keep it all contained.

As hard as Iris was laughing, it was going to be tough.

"No, no," said Doctor Cain around a full mouth. "I couldn't possibly take another slice..."

Blitz gave him such a kicked-puppy look that Doctor Cain reconsidered. He swallowed his mouthful of cheesecake. "Okay, okay, fine, leave it here. Twist my arm, why don't you. More cheesecake, huh?" He hummed happily to himself as he brandished his fork. "I don't know why you all are bringing me all this, but don't stop."

"Never again," Blitz mumbled. "Never, ever again."

"Really? That's too bad." The human took another bite and moaned in appreciation. "Because lemme tell you, cheesecake is my favorite!"

Fin