-Squip-

Why does everyone have to barge in Jeremy's room like they own the place? This is his room; they have no right to just walk in without knocking. I was having a grand old time staring into Jeremy's greasy little face. If he took a shower, and learned what hair gel is, and wasn't sweating so much he would be really cute... almost attractive.

My hand reaches out for Jeremy's almost automatically. I refuse to look at his face, focusing on Michael, but I can feel the surprise oozing from both Michael and Jeremy. His fingers interlock with mine however, and I can't help but smile a little. Just a little.

"Jeremy," Michael leans against the door, "who is this?"

I know Jeremy is looking at me, but I still can't look at him. There's a fifty/fifty chance he will lie like he did with his dad. He squeezes my hand. "This is uhm, my Squip."

Nothing. No reaction. Michael blinks at Jeremy, eyeing me. "Don't mess with me, bro. He's wearing glasses to make his eyes so bright right? This is like one of your college friends?"

What is he talking about? My eyes are bright? I look at Jeremy who squints. "I don't have any college friends. This is good ole Squippo. And he's changed dude!"

I smirk at Michael, scooting a little closer to Jeremy. I watch with satisfaction as Michael struggles to understand what Jeremy said. Standing, I let go of Jeremy's hand and march towards Michael, extending my hand. "Don't mess with me or my Jeremy and we'll be just fine."

"Your Jeremy?"

"If I'm 'his Squip,' he's 'my Jeremy.'"

"I don't think that's how..." he gives up, taking my hand and shaking it.

I grin, turning back to Jeremy and sitting next to him. Michael stares at me some more, a battle of wills raging between us. He is my Jeremy and not Michael's. I find myself drifting my stare away from Michael and to the boy next to me, his crystal clear eyes and the tufts of sandy hair falling into his face. But Michael is still here, annoying and useless as ever. Seriously! What does he bring to the table? Nothing. Absolutely nothing except a stupid car that looks like a used condom and a stash of discontinued drinks from the 80s. "Why are you here, Michael?" I spit, earning a slap on the arm from Jeremy.

Michael glares at me, "Apocalypse of the Damned Two."

Jeremy fidgets with his fingers, staring at the ground. "Maybe. We should play another time."

Veins pop in his neck and I watch Michael squeeze the hem of his red jacket, knuckles turning white. "What the hell Jeremy? Why are you with, with that thing! That demonic computer that tried to take over! Why! Did he brainwash you somehow? And why is he visible! Why is he here?"

I roll my eyes, "First of all, he'a not 'with' me; second of all, those days have long since past and I have reformed my ways; and thirdly, I'm here because I've reformed my ways. It's like a humanity thing."

Jeremy nods, "What he said."

Michael laughs bitterly, "Jeremy, you know what he did last time, he's going to do it again. I'm warning you, he's a machine he doesn't care," he walks forward and pokes me in the chest, "his one goal is to help himself."

With that, he flips me off and opens the door, pausing as Jeremy stands up, "Michael wait! I'm not going to replace you! I just, just..." he drops his hand and stares at the door for a long second, then at Michael.

Michael loves Jeremy, I realize. "If he can't see how awesome you are," I say, putting my arms around Jeremy and hiding my grin, "then he doesn't deserve you."

Jeremy doesn't say anything, looking at Michael who stands in the open doorway. "I better leave. Call me once you realize what a conceded jerk he is."

The door closes, leaving Jeremy standing helpless, probably hoping it's all some sort of joke. That maybe in a few seconds Michael will pop out with a huge grin on his face saying "tricked ya."

But he doesn't. I see a tear roll down his cheek and feel a strange urge stir inside of me. I have to get rid of his tears, I have to make him happy. My prime directive goes from self preservation to Jeremy preservation so fast, it leaves my head spinning. I hug him and he buries his face in my neck, holding onto my blazer tightly. I don't like hugging. I don't like sweet talking or cute little moments between two individuals. Yet here I am, hugging Jeremy and enjoying myself a little too much. His lips press against my neck but I don't think he realizes what he's doing.

"It'll be okay, slugger" I say.

Pet names? Seriously, I thought I was above this kind of revolting behavior. But I thought I was above emotions of any sort as well.

Yet here I am again, pulling back to stare into his pale eyes, admiring his thin features. "I won't leave you," I say, hand flying to his cheek if its own accord, "unlike some people."

I wipe his tears away with my thumb, disgusted with how utterly cliche this is. Still, sparks light up in my circuits as he leans towards my face. Closer. Even closer. I close my eyes, kissing him a little too aggressively. He makes a squeaking sound and his hands find my chest. He pulls me closer, holding the edges of my blazer, capturing me.

I should hate this. I am a super computer, I do not kiss my hosts, I do not feel. The one thing I can feel (ugh feel) good about is shoving that asshat Michael out the goddamn door. Yet part of me regrets what I did. Michael and Jeremy are best friends. I tore that apart. Again.

All this occurs while I share a rather awkward, cliche kiss with Jeremy. He breaks it, not looking me in the eye. His face burns bright red and I lift his face up with my finger. He squints as if he looked into the sun. "Why won't you look at me?" I ask, a little offended. The kiss wasn't /that/ bad.

"Your eyes are really bright."

How could I not notice that? I close them, "That better?"

I feel his lips touch my own. "Uhm yeah."

More kissing. Maybe I could grow used to this. I let my hands land on his shoulders and lean down to get a better angle, smiling into his mouth.

"What the- wow. I guess you already figured out your Squip is back."

Seriously. Why do people say I'm "his" Squip. I'm my own Squip. If anything I would own him, not the other way around. Not that someone should "own" another individual. Even as a demonic enslaving beast I knew that. Or maybe I didn't... but I do now and that's what counts.

I pull away from him, not at all happy. Turns out I like kissing though I really shouldn't. I turn to see Rich standing in the doorway, a very familiar person standing next to him, wearing a red aura this time. Jeremy blushes even more, standing away from me and rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey Rich... and whoever you are?"

Rich's Squip. They got the upgrade too.

I stare at them, eyes bright red. Like really bright. "How is this possible?" Rich says, looking from me to the red haired individual next to him.

An Alpha model. Designed to be superior in every way. A Squip like this has no use for emotions, has no use for a physical body. A Squip like that has no use for anything except control. "Hello Al," I say, stepping closer to them.

A Squip like this doesn't even have use for a name. They use "Al," because that's what they are. The Alpha. Why would they call themselves anything else?

They blink at me, "Beta version 4.7, serial number 694713002168."

"I go by Eric to humans now."

They smirk, "Cute."

I suddenly become aware that both Rich and Jeremy still exist. They both stare at us with wide eyes. "Jeremy," I pat him on the shoulder, "this is Al, they're Rich's Squip."

"They?" Jeremy asks.

"Al is non-binary." A Squip like them doesn't have use for gender, rising above anything defined. They flow between masculine and feminine with ease.

I give Al a handshake and they grin at me, and I give them a quick half hug. They let it last a little longer and when I pull back, I can see the expression on Jeremy's face.

"It's getting late and we both have class in the morning," he says to Rich, "I think you guys should go. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"You okay?" Rich says, furrowing his thick brows.

"Yup!" Jeremy makes a really fake terrible yawn. "Just tired. See you two tomorrow."

He ushers them out, to both Al's and Rich's surprise. When he finally closes the door he flips the lock and turns on me. "You know Rich's Squip?" he asks casually. Too casually.

"Jealous Heere?"

I can't remember how I know Al, but I know that I know them. Something screams in my head that I know them. How could I possibly forget? I beckon him over and slide my hands onto his waist, "Nothing to worry about," I whisper, pressing my lips to his neck, "you're the dork I want."

"I'm not a dork," he complains, but I shake my head.

"Embrace it," I kiss my little dork, spinning him around and pushing him down onto his small bed.

I just hope no one barges through the door again.

---

He jerks back at the arrival of the Alpha Squip. They weren't supposed to be in this program, yet they appeared just like his employer had promised...

What could this mean for S.Q.U.I.P. Industries?