The faint sound of clattering pans woke Moza from her already broken sleep. Thanksgiving, she remembered groggily.
She'd wrestled to fall asleep that night-too much caffeine in a fourteen year old body will do that-only to be woken up by sounds trickling up from downstairs. At this point, she accepted that it just wasn't a night for sleeping. She pulled her head out from the cocoon of blankets and her eyes found the bright red numbers of the alarm clock, piercing in the dark room. 3:05 AM.
There was a lot of work to do today. Extended family was coming over at noon to celebrate. It was going to be the biggest meal they'd ever had on Thanksgiving, and the worst part was that she had no idea what to expect. She'd never had a traditional Thanksgiving that she could remember.
Thirsty, she stumbled to the door and let herself into the cool hallway, carpet-less metal stairs like ice on her feet. The bed had been warm, but the house was designed to be cool just below comfort for an average human. Moza was used to it, but a warm cup of coffee made it just a little better.
More shocking than the temperature of the house, would think an intruder, would be what they encountered in the kitchen. But to Moza, who'd grown up around them all her life, seeing a six foot tall robot man, muttering cusses and cleaning the floor was exactly what she'd expected. Well, minus the cussing. "You owe a dollar to the swear jar."
Robot Jones spun around, a filthy rag in one hand and flour on his cheek. "Oh, Moza, did I wake you?" He looked guilty, but she didn't know if it was because she woke him up, or because he got caught swearing. It was strange to hear Robot curse, given she'd never heard him swear out loud until recently. He was a machine, not prone to venting his frustration the same way that humans did. And she'd heard there was actually a customary rule about robots letting their frustration show in front of humans. But Robot was the most humanoid robot Moza had ever known, and more likely to throw rules out the window than be as docile as robots built for servitude.
"I was just getting some water," she said. "Need a hand?"
"Oh, thank you Moza, but, it's fine. I've got it," he smiled, reaching for the dustpan. But she ignored him and grabbed some rags to mop up the liquid mess that was left after he was done sweeping the glass. "Thanks for that," he said sweetly. Moza was a rare human that acknowledged the automaton like that, offering to clean up his messes instead of expecting him to clean up theirs.
"Sure thing," she replied. She stood up and washed her hands in the sink and grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filling it from the dispenser on the fridge door. Robot leaned his back against the counter and sighed, making an expression that revealed how tired he was. He was also in his sweatpants and long sleeved navy sweatshirt version of night clothes, but she doubted that he'd slept at all that night, anyway. Though he was capable of staying awake for at least two days, it wasn't pleasant. Both he and Shannon worked late most nights, but he took the duty of preparing the meal without a word. No wonder he was dropping things. She wondered how many years he'd put himself through this for her family: for a meal that he himself wouldn't even enjoy.
Since their first Thanksgiving, the one in which a newborn Moza absorbed most of Shannon's time and energy, Robot had been a huge help preparing the event. While an exhausted Shannon spent half of the night feeding and changing the baby, Robot did most of the prep-work, including baking the turkey and watching it through the night. And only when the morning sun crept in through the windows did Shannon take over fine details of the operation while Robot curled up and slept the rest of the day. In the end, the humans on Shannon's side of the family were impressed with the feast, and while Robot didn't get any credit for his work-the humans assuming Robot served Shannon as part of robotic duties-Shannon it worth his while the night after in kisses and cuddles.
When Shannon was away on active duty, Robot managed to prepare a small, authentic meal for Moza at home when Thanksgiving Day came, even though she was the only one in the house that ate it. These lonely, awkward meals always filled Moza with resentment that politics had broke down the door, and ripped her family apart, so that she couldn't remember what a traditional Thanksgiving looked like. Or if there ever was one, for her.
This year was so much different.
With Robot and Shannon and all their children living under one roof, both their families, young and old, robots and humans, had decided to come together to celebrate. The union between this robot and this woman was a historical moment, and the press had turned them into minor celebrities. She didn't even want to think about what it was going to look like with so many robots and humans sat around one table. The things they would talk about. The awkwardness, arguments, the politics...
Under so much pressure, Moza somehow wasn't surprised to see Robot looking like a mess. "Are you sure you've got it?" she asked.
"You ought to get some more sleep, Moza, it's still so early." Robot then finished cleaning the mess on the floor, muttering, "Thankfully, that was just the cranberry sauce, and the statistics say 85.6 percent of humans hate that, anyway."
Moza looked around the kitchen, taking in another dozen messes. She couldn't believe her eyes. "Are you almost done?"
Robot groaned, pulling a piece of paper from his pajama pocket. "Negative, though I got through quite a large percentage." He flashed Moza the front of the paper, which had a list of the human relative's favorite Thanksgiving dishes, scrawled in black marker. Robot was trying to win over a lot of new in laws in one single meal.
"Geez, Robot, why don't you just wait for Sh-" Moza paused, and sighed. "Mom to help you?" It was hard for her to get used to calling Shannon her mother. She'd been away for so long that when talking to Robot, it was just easier to call her by her first name. She hated to admit it, but there were times when Shannon didn't even feel like her mom. Not in the way it should feel.
Robot understood this. She could tell, not because of his sympathetic expression when she stumbled over her words, but because they were closer than a robot and human had any right to be. Fourteen years together made it so that they didn't have to explain everything to each other. It was kind of eerie. "She's stressed enough about the decorations, and the pies, and the press and the potential opportunity for them to barrel through our door tomorrow during the feast."
Moza rolled his eyes with a smirk. Of all the things to worry about, the paparazzi was not one of them. "Oh, it's a shame that we don't have a house with metal walls or-I don't know, a laser touting grandfather security system or something."
The metal man chuckled, and there was a warmth in his artificial voice that anybody, not just Moza, would be able to hear. "Okay, I got your point." Robot pulled open the oven door and checked the thermometer. Though he didn't' know how food tasted or how to doctor it up, anybody with eyes could read a food thermometer and know if a turkey was done. Heating food was the one part of cooking that he was particularly good at. "There's no space in the oven until the turkey is done, so everything else will have to wait." He shut the door and calmly brushed off his clothes. "Up for some TV?"
They both sat on the couch in their pajamas. Robot sank into his end as Moza chomped on a bowl of popcorn one kernel at a time.
"This show is awful," the automaton remarked, his confusion and disgust fighting for equal expression on his face. "All these humans do is fight and party and complain."
"That's the point," Moza snickered, rolling a piece of the popcorn in her fingers before popping it in her mouth.
When another fight broke out, Robot gulped, cupping his can of oil with both hands. "Are you sure your mother allows you to watch this?"
"Robot, everybody's mom watches this!"
Robot narrowed his eyebrows. "It's certainly not the MTV I remember..."
Before they knew it, the clock had sped up and dawn was creaking over the hills, and slippered footsteps could be heard through the halls.
"Well well well, what have we here?" Shannon said, gently making her presence known as she entered the living room. Shannon, like the other two, was still in her PJs, and her hair was all over the place. "I didn't know couch potatoes were on the menu today," Shannon said, folding her arms.
"Good timing," Moza said with a stretch. "Robot dozed off about a half hour ago." She glancing up from the other end of the couch, where Robot had buried himself under the couch's fleece throw blanket to keep the sunlight out.
A couple tinny footsteps later, a smaller figure in space-themed pajamas stumbled in from the dark of the hallway next to Shannon's feet. Little Robbie Jones shook the swear jar excitedly. "Moza said a bad word!"
"No, I didn't," Moza said, sleepily. If she were younger-rather, if she wasn't so tired, she'd let this turn into a game of 'he said-she said.' As it was, she shook her head tiredly.
"Then explain the extra dollar, smarty pants," the six year old robot said with a grin, shaking the quarters in the glass jar.
"Ask your father about a four letter word for animal leavings," Moza replied, stretching.
"Robot swore?" Shannon said, looking at his sleeping figure with surprise. She couldn't remember him ever swearing in front of her.
"You bet your sweet four quarters he did."
"Moza," Shannon started, with a lecturing tone. She got closer to Robot, eyes widening. "What happened to him? Why is he a mess?"
"He wants to make nice with your mom and dad and everybody," Moza said with a yawn. "You know, since we're all a family now, or… whatever…"
Shannon lifted the sheet off of his head gently and called his name. "Robot," she sang with a grin.
The automaton stirred and gazed up at her, first with surprise, then with affection. "Well… hello sunshine."
Shannon got in very close to his face, and just as Robbie made his 'gross, they're going to kiss' face, she said: "If there's a huge mess in the kitchen, I will kill you."
"Then dismantle me and put me out for the vultures," Robot said with a grin.
"Oh, Robot!" She threw the blanket back over his head with frustration. She quickly then wrestled with him, blinded, to show she wasn't upset at all. Robot removed the blanket and grinned back up at her. Moza and Robbie watched them critically, both wondering to themselves if growing up was a myth, inspired by old people to command authority from the youth.
"You should get some proper sleep. Same with you young lady, I need you to help me with the dessert later," said Shannon.
"I'll do it now," Moza said reluctantly while shutting the TV off with the remote.
"You're taking after him all right," Shannon rolled her eyes as Moza passed into the kitchen. "And you, mister," she pointed to Robot, "Off to bed."
"As you say, Mrs. Jones," he stood up and gave her a hug, squeezing her, feeling thankful for the opportunity just being there. To hold her.
It was this day, not Christmas, nor another holiday that marked the new beginning. Every christmas brought about time to reflect on the changes that had taken place that year. Every New Year's Day marked another year for them together, with the children, alive. Safe. But it was this day that was truly different. This was the first holiday that Robot Jones and Shannon Westerburg would celebrate together, live together, as man and wife. This was the first holiday they could officially, and proudly call their strange group of humans and robots a lawful family.
When Robot entered her bedroom—the one that he and Shannon now shared as husband and wife, the window in the corner spilled in light. The room was filled with a warm, peaceful glow, inviting Robot to plug in and crawl under the sheets that his beloved had just left in beautiful, messy heaps that reeked of her presence. As the sun feel over his face, like a kiss, as if nature was for once acknowledging his existence with love instead of contempt.
Downstairs, as Moza rubbed her eyes over the work in front of her, she finally felt whole. No matter what happened today, nothing could take away this feeling. This strange, strange family was hers. It was all hers. And nobody could take that away from her, or any of them, ever again.
Originally Published November 23rd, 2017 Author's Note from the Story:
Okay, so for those of you that read my last fanfic, this is going to seem REALLY contradictory to ideas I put there. But whereas that was NEW this is a pretty OLD fanfic that I just polished off, (note the Jersey Shore reference) because I really like how it came out, and I wanted to share it. And when will I ever find a proper time to post this? It's got my OCs in it, so it's obviously not something I can pledge to be an attempt at 'like-canon' writing.
This is an epilogue to an alternative version of the Robot Jones ending, where RJ and Shannon get married. I still have a lot of ideas for the NEW fanfiction I'm writing, but again, when the hell am I ever going to post this? I hope you've all had a good Thanksgiving and ate a ton of food, and all that good stuff!
Whatever Happened to Robot Jones? © Greg Miller & Cartoon Network