Disclaimer: Only the ideas belong to me.
I am a faggot; ergo, I will continue to write midgey drabbles about nothing in particular. Pairing requests are love, so you should encourage such self-destuctive behavior and send them in. www. freewebs. com/incompletelove/listaz.htm works if you reaaaally can't put a name to the one you want.
hahaha whatever
pixels
Humans had their own theory of love, mostly involving touching, sweet nothings or embracing of some sort.
But she knew better. She was a machine, built to comprehend what escaped the boundaries of the mind.
Thus, when Dexter sent her those cutesy, pixelated hearts from the confines of the dusty shelves, she was sure to return them without a word. There was no wondering, guessing about it.
That was what her programme told him was correct, after all.
When Professor Oak synchronized their data, she knew better that to assume that it was anything other than her programming that made her almost feel, feel the data coursing through the bits of silicon. If she could put a name to the psuedo-sensation, it would be 'rapture'.
--
"...Anyway, I'm just going to head back here and grab Dexter, are you coming?" The professor's voice still carried the same enthusiastic echo that it had during his last visit several months ago. Apparently the boy consented, because the doorknob clicked once, twice, the door swung open, and Professor Oak immediately shielded Ash's eyes from the sight before them.
"...Ah, oh! Fas-ter, fas-ter!" The digitalized bleeps would have sounded much dirtier if they had more than the solitary voice inflection.
"Oh yes, oh baby!" Dexter's replies were just as hurried.
The door slammed behind them.
oh my god I should have changed this earlier aughghgh. Chapter dedicated to UmbraCat. -fawn-