Disclaimer: If I owned Zeta, it would be on it's 10th season right now.
AN: I'm sorry that this one is short, and that it's taking me so long to update. I've been trying to figure out exactly where I'm going with this one, and in that process I've run out of the pre-written chapters. I'll get the next chapter up as soon as I can, and until then I hope this one gives you a bit of a laugh.
I watch them out of the corner of my eye—covert, so they don't notice. Even though, come to think of it, I don't think they would notice anyway. They're kind of busy, and haven't been paying attention to much of anything but each other.
Jeeze, it's like one of those drama vids my girlfriend used to drag me to. Before she was my ex, anyway.
"What were you thinking?" the girl shouts, and she looks like she's about to slap him. She doesn't, though—probably a good thing, since slapping a robot would hurt. Not that I would know or anything.
"I had no choice," he says meekly. Which is completely wrong—in the vids, the guy always growls that line with a grim look on his face. Vid stars don't regret anything, even in chick flicks, and they don't apologize.
"'No choice?'" she shrieks. "Of course you did! You could have run for it!"
"But you would have—" Man, this guy's a wimp. How did he manage to get away from us so long?
"Beats you getting reprogrammed," she grumbles.
These guys are idiots. They've been going on like this for ages in a crowded van, knowing perfectly well that they're under arrest and everyone here can hear every word they're saying, but they keep pretending it's a private conversation. Just like in those stupid vids.
He starts to say something, but she cuts him off before I can hear it: "Shut up. I'm just cold."
I look over to see what's going on: she's cuddled up to him, but she still looks irate (that word got me through the GATs). Apparently she sees me, too, and she shoots me a glare. Her hair and clothes are wet, and she's wrapped in a now-damp towel. Personally, I think she looks kind of like a drowned cat. Especially with that look on her face.
And then she sneezes.
I'm way too professional to laugh—she looks even more ridiculous right now—so I just cough politely until I get it out of my system.
"Laugh it up, scuzzball," she mutters. Real mature.
Rush stops staring intently at the screen and looks up at the captives. "Sir," she asks Bennett, "shouldn't we get her something dry to wear?" It's a nice enough question to ask, but does the accomplice girl think so? Of course not.
"What?" she shrieks—she's good at that, I've noticed. "And—and change in here? In front of all you people? Are you crazy?" Oh, so she has noticed that she's in a crowded van. It's about time. She's so busy yelling and protesting that I can't make out exactly what's happening, but I can make out the gist of it.
Bennett's marching right up to the robot, completely ignoring the girl. He's talking, and he's using his persuasive voice—the one that usually makes civilians crawl into a corner somewhere while he does what needs to get done. And Zeta's talking back, and he looks worried—I must be going crazy; since when did robots have expressions?—but eventually he turns his head around to look at the girl, and he starts calming her down.
"Can I at least get a towel or something first?" she whines. "I'm not doing this out in the open."
Yeah, she gets a towel. And since the robot's handcuffed to the wall, somebody else has to hold it up for her to hide behind as she changes. And who gets stuck pretending to be a living shower curtain?
You guessed it.
I need a new job.