The first meeting

It was quiet and peaceful evening and Robin sat quietly in his living room, bored out of his skull.

He closed his eyes, took a deep slow breath and froze.

He was suddenly aware of a soft sounding hiss and the clanking of steel, an unusual sound for him, especially in his house.

His eyes darted around his room and rested on, of all things, a large book baring the title of "Isaac Asimov's Law of Robotics".

His hand quickly grabbed the book, one hand gripping the bottom tightly and the other grabbing a pillow to use for defense.

As the hiss grew closer and closer he tensed, this wouldn't be his first fight, but for some reason the danger filled him with an odd energy, like excitement and adrenaline that lit a fire in his heart.

He was barely aware of his mouth twisting into a grin and only years of strict training allowed him to force it back down into the cold expression that he usually wore.

As the hiss seemed to reach a crescendo and a figure seemed to melt into his sight, he leaped, the hand with the book intent on delivering a chop anywhere it could.

Pain, a dull shiver up his arm and into his whole body.

He watched in shock as his attack was stopped by a holo-shield, before recognizing the thing that stopped his attack.

It was a drone, a defense drone to be precise, it was a small thing, colored white and blue; Rounded and visored head on two legs with a backpack on it's back. It chirped at him in greeting, as if he didn't just seconds ago tried to strike it with a book on robotics.

"A defense drone? How unusual," he muttered, dropping the pillow and the book looking suspiciously, "What are you doing here drone? Who sent you?"

His mind spun with possibilities, A robot uprising? An induction to a secret cult? A robot Cult uprising?

The drone chirped once more and something ejected from it's backpack.

A holo-pad.

All at once the answer came to him and he felt himself flush with embarrassment and giddiness.

This drone was for him, and he attacked it, but it didn't seem to mind though. Maybe this happened a lot? Or maybe it was programmed o like him no matter what he did? He didn't care he had his own drone now.

He would make the best of it.

Now what to name the little guy...

"I'll think about it later," he mumbled before looking down once more on his holo-pad, "First I've got to read the instruction manual."

As he went to go sit down on his couch, his drone chirped and went to sit on the pillow he dropped on the floor.

And all was well in the Weiss household.