Hey everyone! Thanks so much for the reviews, I really appreciate it since I'm new to this whole thing… Netbug009, I did realize that about the title—that's exactly why I picked it! I'm glad you noticed. I have the soundtrack too and I was debating over whether I should call the story "It Only Takes a Moment" or "All That Love's About" cause they both seemed appropriate. Whenever I listen to "All That Love's About" on the soundtrack, I can see EVE watching the security cam in my head and I start to get all giggly, lol. I think that's why I picked it.
Thanks for pointing that out about the song lyrics, btw! I had completely forgotten and would have probably got in trouble if you hadn't said anything.
Anyhoo, chapter two…
Disclaimer: Wall-E and EVE do not belong to me, nor does the captain of the Axiom or "Hello Dolly!" or any of the songs therein. :)
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EVE
The Captain stared at the footage she had taken of earth—or what was left of earth. His jaw hung from his round face in disbelief.
"That doesn't look like earth," he protested. "Where's the blue sky? Where's the grass?"
EVE only kept projecting the records on her camera, too troubled and distracted to care much about the Captain's troubles. The barren landscape reflected in her video records greatly disturbed him, and in a moment he'd turned away, conversing with the ship's computer, trying to make sense out of this great mess. EVE was greatly disturbed as well, but not by the camera footage.
She couldn't focus. What was wrong with her? The Captain's troubles should have been her troubles. Robots weren't supposed to have any troubles all their own. She wasn't anything special—just another Extraterrestrial Vegetation Evaluator—one of hundreds sent to earth to search for life. Only she had done something that none of her fellow EVEs had ever done in 700 years: she'd brought back a plant. It was a flimsy little green thing in a boot; but that delicate, odd little thing held more importance than all of the robots on board the Axiom.
The strange thing was, she couldn't take credit for its discovery. And that was where all her troubles began.
From the moment she'd been built, her Directive had been the sole purpose of her existence. Fulfill the Directive; let nothing stand in her way. That's how she had functioned—that was the proper way. She'd always done everything right, everything just as she was expected. She'd never questioned, or even though about doing anything other than that. She was a robot, and robots didn't question. Robots didn't think. They processed, they analyzed, they obeyed. They didn't wonder, or imagine, or feel.
And yet—she had. There had always been a part of her, a irrational and dangerous part, that had always secretly loved the feeling of soaring through the air freely when no one was looking. She would never have admitted it to anyone, least of all herself, but part of her felt a deep thrill in those moments when the only thing to process and analyze was the feeling of the air against her sleek white metal body, with no Directive to interrupt. And it was that part of her—the part she was afraid of because she couldn't rationalize it—that was troubling her.
It was all because of Wall-E. That ludicrous little outdated trash-compactor, obsolete now for centuries, rusted and dirty and somehow completely adorable. He'd started out as a bit of a nuisance, following her around on earth, distracting her from her mission. She'd put up with him after her initial landing on the planet, mostly because he was amusing. He couldn't even pronounce her name properly: EE-VAH! Absolutely ridiculous. Yet she couldn't help but giggle whenever she thought of it. She'd never giggled at anything before she met Wall-E, but his wide, wondrous binocular eyes somehow managed to bring it out of her.
He was cute. She'd admitted it. He was nice to have around, as long as he wasn't messing anything up. She couldn't understand why he had felt the need to share all his belongings with her back on earth, or show her his silly ancient video tape, or try and teach her to imitate the humans in the tape even when she'd accidentally knocked him into the wall. She couldn't understand why, after she'd destroyed many of his things and had nearly blown him up on numerous occasions, he had felt the ridiculously stupid urge to follow her up into the Axiom and chase her all over the place, getting them both in trouble and nearly ruining everything.
But what she really didn't understand—and this was what troubled her more than everything else—was why, in the brief moments she'd believed that he was destroyed, the entire universe had seemed to fall apart around her. Those few seconds—the explosion, and then the horrible silence of empty space—had seemed to last for ages. It was as if she'd looked into the sky, and all the stars had been snuffed out in a single instant. It was as if she'd discovered that her Anti-Gravity Airframe had somehow been disabled and she would never fly again. No—somehow, it was even worse than that.
But then had come the really astonishing moment—when she knew he was alive—and such a rush of beautiful, irrational nonsense had come over her. The same rush she got from flying, from freedom, only better and more complete than ever before. It had swept over her, conquering all her logical and practical thoughts, until she had snatched the little robot up in her arms and spun dizzy circles with him in space, not caring for anything else. And then that strange, overwhelming feeling had surged up inside of her until it had escaped through a quiet, beautiful little spark that had passed between them.
EVE's quick robot mind ran through all those events over again, analyzing them to no avail, resulting only in frustration because she knew there were more important things to think about. Wall-E was being projected from her camera's memory now, eagerly exhibiting his knick-knacks to her, wanting her to find as much pleasure in them as he did. She should have been concentrating on her Directive—that was her purpose, the very reason for her existence. But despite all her logic, she could not manage to think about anything else except that little spark, and about the way the universe had looked reflected in Wall-E's eyes, and about how her flight with Wall-E outside the Axiom had been the best flight she'd ever taken, simply because she had no longer been flying alone.
She couldn't be feeling things like this. She couldn't be feeling. It wasn't logical. It made no sense.
And Wall-E was irrational and ludicrous. She'd left him down on the Lido Deck a few minutes ago, and with all the really important things going on the silly trash-compactor had seemed completely oblivious. He'd wanted something back there, she knew, but she was too busy at the time to even try to imagine what it was. Probably something impractical and absurd—that was usually what he wanted. But why did she let him trouble her like this? Why should she even care what he wanted, what he thought, why he followed her around? Why did the thought of his destruction make her feel as if she'd been crushed? After all, he wasn't her Directive.
She was startled out of her uneasy and frustrating thoughts when the projector from her camera flickered, and the words "SECURITY CAM ACTIVATED" filled up the screen. She watched, perplexed for a moment. Ah—of course. Wall-E had given her the plant he'd found on earth, as a gift, and she'd been shut down for the few days after that until her ship had returned to earth to take her back to the Axiom. She'd forgotten that her camera had recorded everything during her dormant state. At first the footage didn't seem important… Until Wall-E's wide eyes filled up the screen.
"Ee-vah?" his recorded voice cried. "Ee-vah!"
He sounded baffled and concerned. Something about it made her tingle, like she'd got a small power surge.
Her digital blue eyes stared, transfixed to the screen in amazement, watching all the days she'd missed, unable to look away. Wall-E was never out of the screen for a second. There he was, holding an umbrella over her in the rain, even when lightning struck him twice. Then he was attempting to wake her up by rewiring her—unsuccessfully. Then he was wrapping the colorful lights from his truck around her, taking her for a ride in a boat, sitting beside her and just watching the sunset.
EVE had never even considered a sunset before. Suddenly, she realized it was beautiful.
Beautiful, she thought. For once, it was more than just a word. Beautiful, like the stars. Beautiful, like the fragile little plant in the boot. Beautiful, like flying. Like flying with Wall-E. Like that small spark she'd given him, and the feeling that went with it. Like the way he said her name.
The footage went on, and EVE lost herself watching it. He'd been there the entire time, and she never knew… Without any rational cause or motivation, he had done everything for her. He had followed her around everywhere, regardless of her apathy towards him, regardless of his own peril. He had shared all his treasures with her, even though she had destroyed several of them. He'd tried to make her appreciate what he appreciated, even though it had never really clicked until now. He had cared for her, and she never knew. Almost as if she were his Directive. Why?
Why would he treat her better than he treated himself?
Her blue eyes shimmered on the black screen of her face, softening as they watched the little trash-compactor. His old video tape showed up on her screen again, and for the first time, EVE really watched it. She watched the two skinny humans on the tape, singing to each other, entwining their hands together. Just two hands, holding onto each other. Just holding.
What did it mean? EVE opened up her own hard white fingers and slipped them together, attempting to understand. It didn't make any sense, and yet—perhaps it didn't have to. Perhaps that was it. Wall-E had done all this for her because—because he wanted to have another hand to hold. Because something as small and irrational as two hands holding each other was somehow everything, and meant more than 700 years of following a Directive.
"Wall-E," she sighed softly to herself. Something felt warm inside of her—like the lighter in Wall-E's truck. She'd shown him how to open it up and spark the little flame inside of it. Now, she felt as if he'd done the same thing to her. She still remembered exactly the way he'd looked at her in his truck back on earth. At the time, she'd pretended not to notice, but she remembered. The look in his eyes had reflected something that no robot's eyes should ever have been able to.
But somehow, she didn't think that Wall-E cared what he should or shouldn't feel. And suddenly, she realized that she felt the same thing, and she didn't care either. In a moment, it all had changed, and EVE's all important Directive seemed, extraordinarily and invigoratingly, insignificant.
Wall-E was her Directive now. That was all. It was completely unreasonable, completely impractical—and that was why she liked it. That was why it was beautiful. That was why she loved him.
She loved him. And that was all.
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And that is all that love's about!... Hope you guys enjoyed. I'm thinking of writing another longer Wall-E story if I have any time. Reviews are loverly! Thank you! :)
EDIT: Just wanted to thank everyone for the wonderful reviews! I'm so glad you guys enjoyed reading the story as much as I enjoyed writing it!
