Chapter 15: Crush

As Rouge did something she called "closing" with the city mayor, Amy backed slowly out of his office. When she had called her friend to say that she had finished the order for the centrepieces already – thanks almost entirely to Metal's help – and suggested that she would need to order a taxi to transport them all to city hall, Rouge had appeared minutes later in a car she sometimes seemed to have access to and drove Amy and her creations to city hall. Amy never asked Rouge about the car – she knew it wasn't actually Rouge's car, and she felt that was maybe as much as she needed to know about it. Rouge's closers were never exactly that, and so, when Amy had noticed that Rouge had gone full-circle and seemed to be trying to pitch another idea to the mayor, Amy took the opportunity to sneak out and do something she had always wanted to but never before dared do: she took a wander around the entire building, checking out offices and the backstage area before finally finding her way into the ballroom.

The ceiling was higher than the other rooms in the building, and in the very centre hung an enormous, twinkling, crystal chandelier. Amy had only been in the ballroom when the chandelier had been on once before – it was usually left dark, and only ever lit for special occasions – and her main memory of it was the little stars of light it cast all over the dance-floor. She moved into the very centre of the room, positioning herself directly below the chandelier and looking up at it admiringly. She held out her arms at her side and started to spin around, but yelped when she felt someone take hold of her hands and guide her around. In her confusion, she let herself be manoeuvred around until she found herself with one hand on a shoulder and the other clutching a hand.

"We really need to work on your form," Rouge said to her with a smirk as their eyes met.

"I'm not a bad dancer!" Amy snapped defensively.

Rouge lifted Amy's hand from her shoulder and leaned back, before spinning Amy around, crossing her arms around her and pulling her in close.

"You need to relax," Rouge told her.

Amy seethed, but, her back pressed against Rouge's body and with the bat's arms locked around her, she was forced to remain in place until Rouge spun her around again.

"You need to be more sure of your movements," Rouge commented. "Hold your form, firm up your back."

"You said I needed to relax!" Amy argued.

"You do."

"How can I relax if I hold my myself rigid like you're telling me to?"

"Rigid form, fluid movement."

"You're not making any sense!"

Rouge sighed and released Amy's hands.

"You're a terrible student, you know that?" she said.

"You're a terrible teacher!" Amy shot back.

"Maybe just sit out the gala," Rouge advised. "Be a wallflower."

"I don't want to be a wallflower!" Amy moaned.

"Well then bring your robot boyfriend. Next to him, you'll probably look less awkward."

Amy put her hands on her hips and gave Rouge a hard glare.

"I can't take Metal to the gala," she said. "It's too dangerous."

"Why?" Rouge asked, momentarily looking genuinely concerned. "Are you worried he'll show you up when it turns it he actually is a better dancer than you?"

"That's not funny!" Amy complained when Rouge started laughing. "And you know it would be a huge risk to take him to a public event while Eggman is out looking for him."

"Well by that logic, none of us should be going to the gala," Rouge said, steadying her tone, her expression becoming more somber. "Eggman is out looking for all of us, all the time. And besides, yesterday it seemed like you were already sure you were taking him."

Amy hesitated, her mouth open, sure that her next words would be an affirmation of her decision to not take Metal to the gala: but, when such words failed her, she surprised even herself with what she did say next.

"I'm worried it would be too much for him. He struggles trying to socialise with me and Tails and Cream, I don't know how he would manage with a whole ballroom full of people."

"Let's make a deal," Rouge said in that voice Amy always hated.

"I'd rather not," Amy meekly replied, stumbling around as Rouge spun her out again.

"Let's go shopping."

"That sounds okay..."

"I'll buy you that dress you want."

"That sounds oddly generous of you..."

"I'll take it out of your next payout."

"That sounds more like you..."

"And you put that dress on, and then tell me you don't want to take Metal to the gala."

Amy pursed her lips as Rouge finally released her.

"Deal?" the bat asked her, holding out her hand.

"Fine," Amy agreed, shaking her hand. "But a dress isn't going to change my mind!"

"We'll see."

"We will!"

Amy arrived home, a ridiculously expensive and extravagant dress in a zip bag draped over one arm, feeling vindicated after trying the dress on in the shop and confidently telling Rouge that she would not be taking Metal to the gala with her. It wasn't often that she bested Rouge in any sort of argument, and she felt particularly smug for winning this one. She marched boldly into the house, going straight to her bedroom, where she threw the dress down onto her bed – because she had managed to stand by her decision, Rouge had accepted defeat and said she would not recharge Amy for the dress – and she then turned around and made her way back to the living room, where she found Metal sitting on the couch, a large binder cradled in his arms, his head downturned and a small frown casting shade over his intense red eyes.

"What are you looking at there?" she asked him as she passed him.

Amy stumbled a step when, upon hearing her question, Metal immediately slammed the binder closed. She turned to look at him for an explanation, and found him looking up at her with an almost frightened look on his face. When their eyes met, he quickly looked away and his expression hardened again.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

He said nothing, but she clearly heard him gulping. Suspicious, she narrowed her eyes and crept closer to him.

"What were you looking at, anyway?" she asked.

She started to reach out a hand towards the binder in his hands, but he swung it out of her reach.

"Whatever that is, it's mine anyway, so hand it over, Mister!" she snapped.

He shook his head and wrapped his arms around it. When he met her eyes and she saw his irises were glowing a little, Amy's ire flared.

"Give it to me right now!" she demanded, squaring up to him.

He stood up in front of her, stretching to his fullest height.

"Hand it over, Metal," she growled through tightly clenched teeth.

She tried to grab the binder, but in a smooth and dizzyingly fast movement, he raised it up above her head and launched it across the room. It hit the opposite wall and fell to the floor. Amy looked back over her shoulder, seeing that the binder had landed splayed open, and a couple of what looked like photographs had fallen loose from it.

"Is that one of my scrapbooks?" she asked.

She turned back to address Metal, but he was gone. She looked about herself, eventually finding him hunched over the binder, scooping up the contents. She sighed.

"I don't know why you're getting mad at me, Metal," she said. "You're the one invading my privacy, poking about in my personal property!"

He scowled at her from the floor and she sighed again, moving over to sit on a stool at her breakfast bar, with her back to him. After a short pause, she heard him moving about, piecing the contents of the binder back together before replacing it to a shelf on the far wall. He hesitated there for a few more moments before stomping across the room and sitting down on the stool at her side. She shifted her eyes to look at him side-on, and he copied her action. She made a short, high-pitched noise in indignation and looked away from him. She heard him shuffle a little on the stool at her side before feeling one of his leather-glove covered fingers tapping on her shoulder. She wanted to ignore him, but she found it so odd that he had tapped on her shoulder that she found herself turning fully towards him before she could stop herself. His face had softened and the glow had left his eyes, and Amy shortly found herself softening at what happened next. Holding her gaze, Metal very carefully mouthed out three words: "are you okay?". As he said "you" he pointed at her, and as he said "okay" he made an O-shape with one hand.

Amy nodded her answer, and when Metal then sighed and seemed to relax a little, she smiled. She then copied his actions of mouthing and acting out the question "are you okay?", to which he nodded and raised one thumb.

"Would you like me to fix you some dinner?" she asked.

Metal raised his other thumb and a faint, barely discernible hint of a smile appeared on his lips.

"Okay, settle in, I'll cook you something nice!" Amy said, sliding from her stool and moving into the kitchen.

She set about preparing dinner for them both, and, when she placed the dish into the oven to cook, she returned to the living room to find Metal asleep on the couch, in his most common position, his arms draped over the backrest, his head tilted back, mouth open, snoring softly. She caught herself smiling at him and thinking he looked quite sweet, and, as she started to question herself on that, turning her head from him as she tried to focus, her eyes found the shelf on the wall where she kept her scrapbooks.

Metal had made an excellent job of returning the binder to the shelf in a way that it was impossible to tell any of them had been disturbed: but, unfortunately for him, Amy's binders were all colour-coded with square stickers at the bottom of the spines, and she had noticed the one he had been clinging onto was the one with the red sticker. Checking that he was still soundly asleep, she tip-toed across the room and silently slid the scrapbook from the shelf. She then opened it up, frowning at what she found. He had acted so oddly, she had expected to find one of her more embarrassing scrapbooks – like the one where she had collected pictures of Sonic where she considered him to look particularly handsome – but instead, she simply found her Christmas Collection scrapbook. The binder contained photos taken on and around Christmas time, starting from the first Christmas Amy spent with Sonic up to and including the most recent Christmas.

Amy flipped through the pages, her heart sinking as she started to spot a depressing pattern: every year there were several pictures of her dangling mistle-toe over Sonic and making kissy faces at him, and in every picture, he was shirking away from her, a pained and panicked look on his face. She groaned and turned back to the very first page, hoping at least that her first Christmas with Sonic was a little less awkward. She smiled and relaxed when she found pictures of herself with Sonic, Tails and Knuckles, all looking happy. She pored over how cute the younger Tails looked, how stiff and awkward Knuckles was back then – still new to the concept of friends – and finally, she found a picture of herself standing with her hands clasped behind her back, smiling at Sonic, who was forcing a smile for the camera, one hand hanging at his side, the other holding a Mobian daisy.

Amy frowned and tilted her head, something about the picture stirring something in her mind. When Metal snorted behind her, she quickly and quietly closed the binder and returned it to the shelf, moving back into the kitchen. She loitered there until the oven timer sounded, the noise awakening Metal, who stretched his arms above his head in what Amy thought was a strangely endearing biological action. She served up the food, surprised again when Metal presented her with a glass of lemonade and placed one down for himself. She restrained herself from making a comment on how he was apparently learning good manners, deciding that the thought was, much like many other matters that had occurred between them lately, was best left unspoken.

They sat down at the breakfast bar together and ate – Amy smiled when she noticed that Metal was actually using utensils correctly and eating his food at a slightly less frantic pace than usual – and, about halfway through the meal, she suddenly remembered what the photo of her and Sonic reminded her of.

"Metal?" she said quietly. "Do you... Do you remember, Christmas time after we met, when I found you in the snow?"

She turned to Metal and he nodded his head.

"You do?" she asked.

He pointed at his forehead and Amy smiled.

"That's right, I put a bow on you," she said. "I did also take you back to Eggman... Did you want to go back to Eggman?"

He nodded and Amy sighed.

"That's good," she said. "I brought you back to him so that he could fix you up – which he obviously did – although he did also leave you there in the first place... Were you there a long time when I found you? You were totally buried in the snow."

Metal nodded and Amy wilted.

"That's sad," she said. "But I'm glad I found you."

Metal nodded and pointed at himself.

"You're glad I found you too?" she asked.

He nodded again.

"You looked so cute when I put that bow on you!" Amy giggled.

Metal gave her a strange look, and her cheerful giggle became an awkward laugh.

"I mean, you suit red," she tried.

His face still looked a little odd, and Amy found herself starting to feel embarrassed. When she felt her cheeks getting hot she turned from him and stuffed some more of her food into her mouth, chewing through it with difficulty, hoping that the task would help her focus. Instead, however, her mind drifted to one of the other photos she had seen in her scrapbook, a photo of Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow, Rouge and Cream – a photo Amy herself had taken – from the most recent New Year celebration. They were all dressed for the event, which had been held at the mayor's house, the group being invited as a special thank you for all their help keeping Eggman at bay all year long. Sonic had been dressed in a black dinner jacket, a white silk shirt, a red waistcoat and a red bowtie. He had really looked good, but, Amy thought to herself, Metal would also look good dressed that way – perhaps even more so that Sonic, due to his red eyes – and she started to wonder if all his claims about being a good dancer were actually true.

Amy shook her head and refocused her attention on the present, where she found Metal watching her intently. She frowned, unsure what he wanted; but, when she noticed his empty plate and that his eyes were actually on her half-eaten meal, she sighed and pushed her plate over to him, which he immediately accepted and began eating. She watched him shamelessly finish off her meal and his drink – and then hers – before he turned to her again, a small piece of potato stuck to one corner of his mouth.

"Metal?" she said.

He tilted his head.

"You have something on your face," she said flatly.

He roughly wiped one forearm across his mouth, which really only succeeded in smearing potato over his lips and the fur on the back of his arm. He licked the mess from his lips, before looking down at his arm as though considering doing the same there.

"Metal?" Amy said as he lifted his arm to his mouth. "I'm going to the gala soon..."

As Metal began licking his arm, Amy felt her mind go blank, logic leaving her entirely.

"Do you want to come to the gala with me?" she blurted out.

He lifted his head long enough to nod his reply, before returning to licking his arm.

"We'll have to get you some clothes, but it should be okay, right?" she asked.

He didn't answer her, but, she admitted to herself, she hadn't really expected him to, as she had more voiced the question to reassure herself.

"And you said you were a good dancer, so that should be okay too, right?" she added.

Metal inspected his arm for a moment before appearing to be satisfied that it was clean. He then shifted his attention to Amy, who was watching him expectantly. He mouthed out the word "what" and gave a slightly exaggerated shrug.

"Nothing," she replied. "It's all okay. We're okay. I'm okay and you're okay. Okay?"

Metal, despite regarding her a little suspiciously, gave Amy a hesitant thumbs up.

"Okay!" Amy said. "We're okay."

She slid from her stool and moved into the kitchen and began cleaning the dinner dishes.

"This is okay," she said. "Everything is okay."

She began humming a tune to herself, mostly to stop herself from speaking any more, as she was becoming aware that she was abusing the word "okay", to the point that it was becoming the only word she felt able to say. As she finished the dishes and turned around to leave the kitchen, she found Metal standing a short distance behind her, holding her communicator. She started to ask him what he was doing, but stopped short when a voice spoke out from the screen.

"Hi Amy – oh, Metal, it's you!" Tails said.

Metal held the communicator out towards Amy. She took it from him and started to turn it around, but he put a hand on it to stop her, tilting it back so that she was holding it facing him.

"I'm not your servant, Prince Metal Sonic!" she grumbled.

She scowled at him, but her expression quickly softened when he began signing at the screen.

"Um, are you sure about that?" Tails asked.

Metal nodded his head and then pointed at Amy.

"Well, okay, I guess…" Tails said carefully. "So, Amy, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I can hear you, Tails," Amy said, keeping the screen turned towards Metal and keeping her eyes on him.

"Metal said he wants you to go to the gala and not worry about Eggman," Tails explained.

"And how does Metal know I'm worried about Eggman?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Metal.

He signed something at the screen, his face a little tighter than before.

"I'm not gonna say that to her, buddy," Tails said in a low voice.

Metal's lips twitched and he signed another message to Tails, one that, to Amy's untrained eyes, looked identical to the one he had previously.

"Amy, Metal says everything is okay," Tails said.

Amy looked directly into Metal's eyes and he gave a single, slow and purposeful shake of his head.

"What did he actually say, Tails?" she asked, her eyes still on Metal.

"He said you talk in your sleep and also you're not as quiet as you think you are just in general," Tails replied in a slightly shaky voice.

"Did he really…?" Amy growled glaring at Metal.

Metal signed something else, and when Tails let out a long, low "oh", Amy started to seethe.

"What did he say now?" she snapped.

"I'd really rather not say…" Tails said, his voice still low. "But, uh, Metal, buddy, why do you want to say that to Amy anyway?"

Metal sighed and signed something, his hands moving more rapidly and rigidly than usual, as though he was irritated.

"Oh, yeah, I guess I forgot about that…" Tails said in that same low voice.

"What are you two talking about?" Amy snapped. "It's rude not to include me when I'm standing right here!"

"Um, Amy, the thing is, when Metal first started changing – into a more biological hedgehog – I tried to teach him a little bit about acceptable things to do and say, you know?" Tails responded, his voice fractionally clearer.

"Just tell me what you were talking about!" Amy insisted.

"I taught him that he should try to say nice things to people, especially if they're upset, and I guess he thinks you're upset right now."

Amy faltered as she recalled Metal bringing Thistle to her when she had been crying.

"Oh yeah?" she muttered.

"Yeah," Tails continued. "So after he said you were loud and you got upset, he said I should tell you that you smell nice. He said you say it to him a lot, and he thinks it's a nice thing to say to someone. Which, um, I guess leaves me to ask you, Amy, why do you keep telling Metal that he smells nice?"

"He does smell nice," Amy weakly replied. "He smells like that shower gel I like."

"The one you bought for Sonic?" Tails asked.

Amy nodded, even though Tails couldn't see her.

"Amy, that's kinda… Awkward, don't you think?" he asked.

Metal signed something and Tails made a strange squeaking sound.

"I'm coming over," he said suddenly. "D-don't do anything until I get there, okay?"

The communicator made a small noise to indicate that Tails had ended the call, but Amy stayed in the same position, holding it out towards Metal.

"What did you just say to Tails?" she asked him.

Metal blinked a few times, before looking down and frowning.

"Metal?" Amy pressed.

He turned away from her, and she put her communicator down onto the breakfast bar, following him as he moved over to the couch in the living room.

"What did you say?" she asked.

He kept his back turned to her, and, just as she started to reach out a hand to grab his shoulder, her front door burst open. She turned her head, surprised to see a very flustered looking Tails hurrying into the living room.

"It's not like you not to knock," she commented.

"So, um, could you maybe give me a minute alone with Metal?" he replied, ignoring her comment entirely.

Amy looked at Metal again, finding that he was still standing facing away from her.

"Okay, but you better explain yourself – and him – to me later," she warned.

She moved out of the room, but pressed her back against the hall wall in an attempt to listen in on their conversation. When she heard nothing for several seconds, she peered around the corner of the doorway, suppressing a groan when she saw them both communicating in sign language. She rolled her eyes and went through to her bedroom, sitting down onto her bed with a sigh. She noticed then that the seven cards of her old deck of tarot cards were still sitting on her bedside table. She picked them up and moved to retrieve her box of new tarot cards, but found herself hesitating, the old cards in one hand and the box of new cards in the other. She felt an urge to consult the cards, but she was not really sure what she wanted to ask. She was worried about Eggman taking Metal, she was worried about Metal fighting with Sonic, she was worried about the gala and she felt a little lost generally: ever since that first reading that had led her to Little Planet, she had always felt sure of her own destiny, but since reviewing the cards and re-interpreting their meaning, for the first time in her life, she felt a little lost and confused.

"Amy?"

Amy hurriedly stuffed her seven cards into the box of new cards and stowed them away on her shelf, before turning to face Tails at the exact moment he entered the room.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, the look on his face over-riding any concerns she had about him freely entering her bedroom.

"So, um, I was thinking, now that Sonic knows about Metal, we don't really need to hide him any more, right?" Tails replied.

"I guess not," Amy replied.

"So he should probably just come and live with me now," Tails said.

"Oh… Well, I suppose he could – but wait, didn't you say Sonic is at your place pretty much every day?"

Tails nodded.

"Well, you know Metal still doesn't really like Sonic," Amy continued. "And he wants to fight him every time he sees him. You said – right back at the start – that we should keep them apart, and the best way to do that was to have Metal live here with me."

"It doesn't matter now though," Tails said, with an exaggerated shrug. "So he can come live with me."

"But he'll attack Sonic every time he comes over," Amy countered.

"They're gonna have to learn to get along eventually, maybe it's better this way," Tails replied. "Let them see each other every day, get accustomed to each other… You know…?"

Amy could understand the logic in everything Tails was saying – after all, she had initially only agreed that Metal could stay with her until his wounds were healed, and that had happened very quickly – but, for a reason she couldn't quite fathom or explain, she was reluctant to let him go.

"He's no bother," she tried.

"Yes he is," Tails said, an almost desperate edge creeping into his tone. "He eats all your food, he's taken over your couch, he doesn't help around the house."

"But he has been helping me with my work," Amy pointed out.

"He can still do that," Tails countered. "He doesn't have to live with you to work for you."

"But he might as well."

"But he might as well live with me."

"What if I get a really big order?"

"What if he breaks a finger? You can't fix it for him."

"He doesn't have to live with you for you to fix him."

"You can't even talk to him, I can. He'd be... I mean... It just makes more sense."

Amy folded her arms and narrowed her eyes.

"Why are you suddenly so desperate to take Metal out of my house?" she asked.

"You were desperate to get him out of your house," Tails said slowly.

"And you never offered to take him before now. What changed?"

"Sonic knows about him now."

"Sonic knew about him yesterday. Why didn't you take him right after our fight with those cyborgs?"

"I forgot."

Amy narrowed her eyes further still.

"Why did you rush over here after he spoke to you?" she asked. "What did he say to you? Because whatever it was, it's the reason you're here trying to take him away from me now."

Tails looked away to one side and squared his jaw before meeting Amy's eyes again, hardening his look despite visibly shaking.

"I'll answer that if you can answer me why you won't just let him go?" he challenged.

"I need his help with my work," Amy replied.

"I think there's another reason," Tails countered.

"I've grown accustomed to having him here," she said with a shrug. "It's actually quite nice not living alone. I like looking after him. It makes me feel useful. You and Sonic sometimes make me feel useless."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Well, now you do."

"I'm sorry, I never meant to make you feel that way."

"It's okay."

Tails nodded.

"So, does Metal have anything here I should be packing for him, or...?" he asked, looking about himself.

"Wait, I thought we just agreed Metal is staying here," Amy responded.

Tails touched the tips of his index fingers together and looked about himself frantically for a moment before moving to close the bedroom door.

"The thing is Amy, do you remember how I told you Metal is new to a lot of things?" he said quietly, moving closer to her again.

"We all know he's new to a lot of things, Tails," Amy flatly replied.

"Like emotions, and understanding social clues and stuff?" Tails continued.

"Yes, I noticed. What's your point?"

"I mean, I could be wrong..."

Amy faltered a little as Tails's voice cracked and a strange look tugged at the corners of his eyes.

"Wh-what are you getting at?" she asked warily.

"Well, I could be wrong, but I just..." Tails began, that odd look on his face becoming even more strained as he spoke. "I think that maybe Metal has a little bit of a crush on you, and I just don't want you to feel awkward about it."

Amy's arms unfolded, falling loose at her sides, and her eyes widened out of their suspicious glower.

"He... He what?" she muttered.

"Yeah, I could be wrong, but he just... I think maybe, in his own sort of way, he's kinda had this crush on you, and it's maybe just stronger now."

Amy swallowed carefully.

"N-now?" she repeated. "What do you mean "now"?"

Tails suddenly looked panicked.

"As in, he had a crush on me before now?" Amy pressed.

Tails opened his mouth and moved one upturned hand out in front of himself as though he was about to say something significant, but he paused for far too long for Amy's comfort before finally speaking.

"Well, I suppose, as far as it's possible for an AI system to experience a "crush" as we know it," he began. "Then, by that definition, I suppose we could, for argument's sake, say that maybe–"

"Oh my goodness, Tails!" Amy cut him off. "Spit it out already!"

"I think when you were on Little Planet you said or did something that triggered something in Metal's AI that would be the robotic equivalent of a crush, and I guess now that he has a biological body, mind and urges, that might have developed into..."

"Into what?" Amy pressed.

"Come on, Amy," Tails said quietly. "Do I really have to say it?"

Amy searched his worried blue eyes for a moment before shaking her head.

"So he should probably come live with me now, right?" he asked.

Amy shook her head again. Tails looked confused, but Amy suddenly had an alarming sense of clarity.

"It's fine," she said. "He can stay here. And... If you don't have anything else to say, you can go."

Tails frowned and moved his mouth as though to respond, but, after a few failed attempts, he sighed softly and gave her a feeble wave, before turning and leaving the room. Amy closed him out of her bedroom and crossed the room, pulling down her box of tarot cards and settling onto her bed: in times of confusion like this, the cards were the only thing she could trust to give her answers.

Next Chapter: Amy gets an odd reading from the cards, one that she hopes she has misunderstood, as she pushes on and prepares to take Metal to the gala with her – though she starts to notice changes in his behaviour as he attempts to communicate with her and starts to emote more. Chapter 16: Tie