The Boy Does Have His Uses

A "Murder Drones" fanfic.

...

A "Murder Drones" prequel. Only a possibility.

I don't own anything about "Murder Drones," of course. R&R!

...

The disassembly drone known as N was holding down the fort, as J had put it, guarding the landing pod J, V, and he had arrived in. He wasn't too clear just what he was guarding it from; the only others on this planet were the worker drones he and the other disassembly drones preyed upon, and they generally couldn't be bribed to come within a hundred klicks of here.

The others were out hunting, of course, as usual. They'd told him they'd bring him something back, as he was useless and terrible at hunting...or, at least, that was what they told him. Constantly. It was rather discouraging. If it hadn't been for V, he probably would've given up long ago. Just the thought of her raised his spirits.

But he was beginning to feel the need for oil. His internal sensors were informing him of a rise in body temperature, and he was starting to get nervous. He hoped he wouldn't have to go out scavenging again; for some reason, the others always gave him a hard time when he did that.

"N," J had repeatedly said, usually after a good beating, with her foot on his chest, "you are worthless and terrible. The only reason you're still alive is because the Company wants you alive, God alone knows why, and they've saddled us with that burden. And you are a burden, don't forget that. So just sit here and play with the nice buttons and don't. Do. Anything until we get back, hear? Got it? Good, because I'm not repeating myself."

So he sat there, at the ruined console, feeling his temperature rise and his spirits sink, trying to distract himself. They'd be back soon, surely.

Sure enough, just as he thought that, he heard a familiar thunk! on the roof. Finally! He wished they'd let him go with them on their adventures. The few times he had, he'd racked up what he thought was a respectable body count, but for some reason, this seemed to displease them, especially J. He couldn't figure it. Wasn't that their whole purpose?

"We're back, N, and, as promised, I brought you a little something." V was holding up a severed worker drone head, still flashing the "fatal error" message. It must be fresh, and he practically drooled at the thought of all that warm, sweet oil…he reached for it.

"But," she said, holding the head up out of his reach, "I took some damage. I'm gonna need your help."

"Sure, V," he responded. Even without the promise of oil, he loved her, and was eager to help her, just as he had so many times before. And, even before she said anything, he knew where she'd taken damage. It was the same place as always. Part of him thought it odd, that J never seemed to get hurt, at least not…there. But that was J. She was just awesome like that.

V sat on a nearby chest across from him, leaning up against the bulkhead, and spread her legs. Gestured towards her groin. "Down there. You know I can't reach there, myself, so get over here and get to work. After all," she said, her voice suddenly becoming softer, "I'm really hurting here, N. You don't want me to hurt, now, do you, N, honey?"

Her words were sweeter than any oil. "Of, of course I don't! Sure, V, I'll help! You know I will!" But even as he dropped to his knees and began to lick the place she'd indicated, just the way she'd taught him (though for the life of him, he couldn't see any damage. The worker drones must have some sort of exotic weaponry, he thought, something that didn't leave any marks), he wondered, in the back of his mind, why J never seemed to get injured, at least not down there. Other places, sometimes.

And, yeah, every great once in a while, down there. But she wasn't nearly as nice about it as V.

Still, it was his duty, his reason for existence. Or so they both kept telling him.

"Oooooh," moaned V. "Yeeeessssss, juuuussst like that." She closed her eyes in ecstasy. He'd sure learned. "For God's sake, don't stop now…" She grasped his head, guiding him, spreading her legs wider. "Deeper. G-go deeper. F-faster. Oh, N…N..."

She must really have been hurting, he thought.

And she actually remembered my name. That alone made it all worthwhile.

Much later: "Why do you continue to, to degrade yourself like that?" snorted J. She was busy uploading reports back to HQ. "He's useless and terrible, and you know he's got it bad for you. You're only encouraging him. And you've seen his kill-count. He could make the rest of us look bad, given half a chance. The Company might decide we're superfluous."

Still basking in the golden glow of post-orgasm, V couldn't stop smiling. She found it hard to completely disagree with her superior; after all, she had a point. But... "Yeah, I know, J, but you're wrong about one thing.

"The boy does have his uses."