CHAPTER THREE

THE CHIP ON HIS SHOULDER

It had taken nearly 14 hours for ARTHR's battery to reach full capacity, another couple hours for his operating system to run some diagnostics, and another 45 minutes to finalize some updates. Alfred had already moved the bot into his house, and was waiting tentatively for it to power on.

He was in the kitchen when it happened; the Android chimed as it's computer finally began booting up. Alfred bolts into the living room, causing his limbs to whirr in protest. He stands there, panting, beads of sweat collecting on his brow.

And while it certainly wasn't the best image to wake up to, he didn't think it warranted the response he got.

"Ugh." The Android groans, it's voice animatronic. "Why are you breathing so hard?" It's face scrunched up, green-lit eyes traversing up and down Alfred. He didn't seem pleased.

"I-…You were powering up, I just came in to see it." Alfred offers, suddenly aware of his disposition.

"Have you ever seen a computer boot up? It's the same damned thing." It says, voice thick with disdain.

Alfred pursed his lips.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there?" It says, thick brows aloft. "Perhaps you haven't recognized, but I'm a touch exposed." The bot's hand then trails listlessly down it's bare figure.

Alfred blinks, and hesitates for a second to collect his thoughts. It may seem silly to have to dress an Android, but since the invention of Touch Compatibility, newer models were being produced with certain… parts.

"Sure." He finally says, and saunters off to his bedroom to fetch some clothing.

ARTHR follows after him, naked as the day he was born – had he of been born, of course – and made sure to nit pick anything he could.

"This wall color is hideous."

"Why did you pick a TAN carpet to go with BEIGE walls?' It asks incredulously. 'Do you want to drown in a sea of neutrals?"

Alfred remains silent, and wonders if he can adjust the Personality Settings.

"Oh—I'm sorry… Do you honestly expect me to wear that?" It exclaims, body leaning away from the clothes Alfred held towards it.

Alfred cants his head to the side. "What's wrong? It's a t-shirt and jeans?"

"Exactly. It's a T-shirt and jeans. Haven't you got anything nicer? Perhaps some steel-grey slacks that I can pair with, say… A baby-blue button down?" The bot enters the bedroom, completely uninvited, and begins rummaging through Alfred's closet.

Naturally, a Secretary Bot would only want to wear something that fell into the category of 'Business Casual'. Unfortunately for ARTHR mk. 3, Alfred was a technician and owned nothing of that sort.

"Agh!" ARTHR cries, an accompanying foot stomp following soon after. "I can't believe this!"

The Android begins cycling through the closet again, perhaps not convinced yet that this Human didn't own anything nicer than a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. And while it does that, Alfred allows himself the liberty of sizing the droid up.

He wondered who they picked to model the bot after. Because whoever it was, had a really nice body. Smooth, pale skin. An ass that was firm, and perfectly rounded with two dimples in the small of it's back. A sleek waist, artfully sculpted legs. And the front wasn't too bad either.

"You done staring?"

The pitched voice tears into Al's subconscious.
"Ye? You get a good, long look, did you?" He accuses, hands placed on either side of it's hips. "Because when you're finished, I'd like a little privacy to dress myself."

"Oh—shit. Sorry, yeah." Alfred says, tripping over the words and wafting a hand dismissively. He lowers his gaze and quickly exits his own bedroom.

Once alone, Al huffs, "Yeah, he's got a chip on his shoulder alright."