Friendly Affairs part 2

	“Do you see anything? Is it back there?”
	The high-intensity bulb of Mike’s thin, pocket flashlight flickered sporadically, before casting a harsh but steady beam over the veritable treasure-trove of antiquated audio equipment tucked away the storage room behind the restaurant’s main stage. It was said that most of this stuff was surplus from some of the other, now-defunct Fazbear locations, though Mike couldn’t recall where he had picked up that particular facet of information. Nevertheless, as he scrounged the maze-like depths of the dark and dirty back-room, he found himself flanked in all sides with shelves upon shelves of industrial grade amps, tuners, switchboards, and god only knew what else. Between the decrepit state of the equipment, and the musty smell in the dust-polluted air, he couldn’t help but feel like he was disturbing the long forgotten tomb of some ancient rock-legend; lost to time after decades of subsequent musical revolutions, only to be dimly remembered as an artifact of the past.
	“You don’t see any rats, right? Tell me you don’t see any rats.”
	With a sigh, Mike clicked off his flashlight and placed in atop a stray subwoofer; reminding himself not to get so melodramatic as he turned to face his uneasy companion.
	“I don’t see anything, Springy,” he replied skeptically to the nervous golden robot currently poking its head over his shoulder and eying the shadows suspiciously. “You sure it was a rat?”
	“Well, I saw something… I think,” she answered with a not-so-subtle tinge of doubt; leading Mike to suspect that she was probably just being overly-cautious. Not that he had a problem with that.

	Like Chica, Spring was a surprisingly advanced animal-themed robot, currently serving as a mascot at one of the few remaining Freddy Fazbear locations still operating in the state. Made in the same template as her avian companion, the gold-tinted rabbit shared many stylistic cues as her bird-themed counterpart; though in a softer, more cuddly package.
	Gone were the pointed talons and hefty wings; instead replaced by padded paws and conventional human-sized fingers. Her cheeks and hair –despite still being nothing more than molded extensions of her rubbery shell- appeared cute and fluffy; inviting the predilection for head-pats and evoking a more ‘hands on’ impression than her other two colleges. This notion of openness was only backed-up by a pair of bright green eyes, which shone brightly like beacons amidst her warm, amiable face; as if beckoning friends and strangers alike to come closer and stay for a chat.
	Two elongated ears sprung from the top of her head like an extra set of limbs, and were complimented by a petite black nose and a pair of bucked front-teeth jutting from her dull-yellow muzzle. This deviation in color continued from the top of her chest, and extended all the way down to the bottom of her pelvis, before wrapping back up her rear and terminating below her inelaborate poof of a tail.
	The only trace of accessories Spring wore was one of several brightly colored bowties, which hung neatly around her dull grey neck, and were usually changed out every day for variety’s sake. This predisposition to bows was apparently a trait shared amongst almost all Bonnies; and while Mike didn’t quite get it, he couldn’t deny that Spring pulled it off well. With all that said, if there was one accessory he truly associated her with, it was the guitar.
	While all of the robots that inhabited his workplace were blessed with a variety of abilities and knowledge from their long and varied years as children’s entertainers, Spring’s utter mastery of stringed instruments surpassed any of her counterparts’ inherent skills. From her trademark Flying-V, to basses and banjos, Spring could play nearly anything that deigned to be plucked. Apparently, she had even taken a crack at the violin once; though it had been years since she could get her hands on one since then.
	With all of his free time watching the restaurant at night, Mike had jumped at the opportunity to learn from a master, and eagerly began taking guitar lessons from their resident rockstar. It was a decision he had quickly come to regret, however, as Spring proved to be a relentlessly meticulous taskmaster.
	Breaks, it seemed, were not something she was accustomed to -thanks in part to her purpose built fingers that never tired or blistered- so when his tutor made clams of seeing something scurrying around behind the stage, Mike welcomed the distraction from the otherwise unending drills and finger-exercises he had so readily asked for.

	“I didn’t realize you were so afraid of rodents, Spring,” Mike mused as he walked back to the stage; taking a seat on its edge before setting to work cracking his still-sore fingers one joint at a time.
	“It’s not that,” a hint of wary discontent remained in the rabbit’s voice as she sat down by his side and watched him pop his knuckles with mild fascination. “The last place lived got taken down by a rat. Someone saw it in a bathroom and told the health inspector. The building had to be closed until the infestation could be taken care of, but by then, it had lost too much money.” Mike stopped cracking his knuckles, and looked over to see Spring staring down despondently at the floor; idly swinging her legs to and fro as they dangled over the edge of her seat. “The worst part was: Nobody even knew it was going to happen until the liquidators came to dismantle the place. Management just kept telling everyone to check their schedules for a reopening, right up until the day they shut down for good.”
	Mike’s eyes narrowed as he thought to himself; trying to remember what his current calendar looked like, and growing more concerned as he came back blank. “I uh… I actually don’t think my boss scheduled me past tomorrow.”
	“Nope. You’re all set for next week,” she perked up and cheerily informed him. “They just updated the schedule tonight, a few hours before you came in, actually.” Mike stared at her blankly, both relieved to hear the information, but bewildered as to why she knew his work hours so readily. Sensing his confusion, Spring quickly replied, “It’s in the server, remember?” while tapping on the side of her head.
	Another moment passed before he registered what she meant. Things like scheduling logs we all uploaded and archived electronically in the buildings computer system; the same system that each of the robots accessed on a daily basis for everything from debugging scans to simple relay messages passed between them. There was no one left on the maintenance crew knowledgeable enough to explain exactly why the performers were able to access information outside of their specific sub-systems, but it was generally agreed upon by anyone in authority that fixing the issue was far more trouble than it was worth.
	“I keep forgetting you can do that,” Mike shook his head; a little disquieted at the recollection that all his friends could essentially talk to each other from anywhere at any time without him even noticing. “Must be weird having a computer in your head like that.”
	“My head is a computer, silly,” Spring giggled back. “Besides, it’s no different than having a cellphone on hand. But all I get to use it for is scanning the building’s website and pinging Foxy and Chica. Speaking of which…” a wide buck-toothed grin formed on her face. “How’s it going with you and our resident pizza bird? You two still going at it when you think no one’s around?”
	Mike’s face went red as the rabbit held her ginger expression and waited for his reply. “S-Spring! Wow. Way to put me on the spot.”
	“Please. You two have been official for weeks now, and it’s not as if me and Miss Foxy ever go anywhere. How could we not notice what happens when you two stop squabbling and go off somewhere by yourselves?” the rabbit shot back before taking a more pleading approach. “Come ooon, we’ve been nice enough to give you your space for this long. I want gossip!”
	Mike grumbled under his breath as the bunny stared at him with a longing, doughy look that he imagined must have taken her years to perfect. “Things are going just fine,” he begrudgingly replied. “We’re happy and it’s weird but we’re happy. Alright?”
	“Yeah?”
	“Yeah,” he crossed his arms, and hoped that the answer was definitive enough for her to drop the subject.
	“Good,” she chirped with glowing approval. “Chica’s been gushing about it ever since you two got together, but I just wanted to hear your side of things, is all.”
	“She’s uh- She’s been talking about me?” he suddenly found himself going from hostile to defensive as this new information was brought to light.
	“Mm-hmm,” Spring nodded back. “Don’t worry, she’s got nothing but nice things to say. It was really cute hearing about your little picnic at the top of the tube maze last Saturday. You should have invited me. I would have played you something romantic to help serenade her.”
	Mike smiled and turned his head away to hide his bashful expression. Obviously Chica had been talking with them about it. Hell, he was surprised it had taken this long for him to talk about it with anyone. It wasn’t as if he was a particularly private individual either, but the idea of him and Chica being together couldn’t help but make him just a little uncomfortable. Robots weren’t exactly seen as something to get into relationships with; not that it was entirely unheard of, just that it was usually met with the same level of legitimacy attributed to people who claimed to be married to their pets or cartoon characters. But as he sat there next to Spring, Mike felt silly for trying to keep everything in the dark like that. After all, if there was anyone who would be sympathetic to the hardships of dating a robot, it would probably be another robot.
	“Will I’m glad you approve,” he found himself loosening up a little now that he had gotten past the initial unpleasantries. “Honestly I’m really happy with how it’s gone so far. Like I said earlier, it’s weird, but it’s a good kind of weird.”
	“Great! So how about the sex?”
	And suddenly he was on the defensive again.
	“Ha- Wha?”
	“Hehehe, you don’t need to get like that,” Spring giggled aloud as her blushing companion attempted to collect himself. “It’s not a big deal. Really. I’m glad one of us is getting use out of these parts.” She leaned in closer and whispered into his ear, “It’s not like we really get to put them through their paces during our day jobs.”
	 “Well, I’m sorry to hear that but-” Mike fumbled his sentence and tried to approach her with a little more focus. “Not that it’s any of your business, but… What exactly do you want to know?”
	Her lips suddenly tightened as a pensive look dawned across her face. Sure, she had established the subject just fine, but Spring clearly had jumped into the conversation feet-first, and probably wasn’t expecting him to give her much more than a few awkward stammers and a hasty change of topic. Now that he had shown himself willing to engage her on this, Mike could practically see the metaphorical gears spinning in her head as Spring tried to determine what it was she really wanted to ask him.
	“Is it-” she paused; still chipping away at the root of her question. “Is it good?” That wasn’t something he was expecting to hear -especially as the answer should have been self-evident to anyone with even a passing knowledge of the subject- but as Spring continued on, Mike began to understand what it was she was trying to get at. “I mean, I know you care about Chica and all, but- Well, she’s not a person. Er, not a human. She’s got hands and eyes and other bits, but they’re just… recreations. We’re just recreations.”
	“Simulacrums,” Mike corrected her; causing Spring to shoot him a peculiar face. “It means a recreation of something that doesn’t actually exist. For whatever reason, it’s about the only thing I remember from high-school English class,” he smirked weakly as Spring slowly nodded in acknowledgment. “Anyway, I already sort of answered this back when I said things with her were weird but good. You guys aren’t really recreations of humans. Or animals, for that matter. You’re just sort of your own thing. You’ve got tails and beaks and opposable thumbs and wifi in your brains, and whenever Chica and I, uh, get together, I can appreciate her for what she, is without being bothered because of what she isn’t.”
	His little explanation had come out of nowhere, but as he said it, Mike realized that he wasn’t just talking out of his ass. There were all sorts of strange little quirks about Chica that he found unusual, but still cherished as a part of what made her so unique. Spring, it seemed, was just as pleased with the answer as him; with her expression lighting up and her bright green eyes widening as she looked at him from across their seat.
	“Oh gosh, that’s so romantic!” she practically swooned. “You must really get a kick out of her.”
	“I guess that’s one way to put it,” he replied awkwardly. “I’d like to think we have something special.”
	“Hm,” she nodded in happy approval. “So does any of that stuff ever come up? The weird things, I mean? Do you like it when she uses her beak or talons?” Before Mike could respond, Spring scooted closer, and was practically breathing down his neck as she once again eagerly barreled into the topic. “I bet it was weird the first time. She’s almost half a head taller than you; that’s gotta be a little intimidating. Have you ever gotten pinched on any of her joints? I know they’re practically nonexistent now, but back when I first came on-line-”
	“S-Spring. Spring!” Mike fought to get a word in through her verbal onslaught, until finally getting her attention by waving his hand in desperation.
	“Oh, sorry. I guess I’m getting a little carried away,” she smiled meekly while rubbing the back of her head.
	“It’s fine. Really.” That was a lie; he was actually getting pretty uncomfortable. But it was clear she had a genuine curiosity, and Mike didn’t have the heart to offend her. He was, however, perfectly alright with making up excuses to get out of any more delicate discussion though. “Look, I’ve uh, got to get back to my post. The boss told me I couldn’t slack off too much during my shifts, you know?”
	“Oh, you’re no fun,” she pouted.
	“Hey, I’m the night guard, not the night gossiper,” he quipped –terribly- while detaching himself from her side and rising to his feet.
	“What about the rest of your guitar lesson?”
	Now there was something he hadn’t considered. In light of recent events, Mike had completely forgotten the reason he was even hanging out with her in the first place.
	“Just give me an hour or so to get some work done and then we can finish up,” he quickly spouted as he began to back away towards the hall leading to his office. “My delicate human fingers need a break anyway.” Mike then wiggled them in her direction for emphasis.
	“Alright, but don’t think you’re weaseling out of the rest of those chord drills,” the rabbit shot back in a sarcastically stern tone; giving him the opening he needed to nod his head and make his escape. Right as he was about to leave her sight, however, she followed up with a hopeful, “And, uh, maybe we can talk a little more about that other thing later?” to which Mike simply continued nodding as he mumbled something incomprehensible and disappeared from the room.

	As he reached his office, Mike plopped down into his seat with a deep and heavy sigh. He wanted to simply tell her no, but Spring was acting so earnest about the subject with him, it was hard to outright dismiss her. Up until now, boundaries had never actually been an issue between him and any of the bots, but now it was clear his burgeoning relationship with Chica was beginning to spill over into other aspects of his life, and it was only a matter of time until something had to give. At the same time though, much to his chagrin, Spring’s adamant questioning was a little bit exciting.
	He had never exactly been in a position of authority like that -not when it came to sex or relationships anyway- and it was kind of fun being looked up to. Adding to that, Spring’s questions were genuinely interesting, and raised some points he himself had never thought to consider.
	And then there was the other thrill, that he so shamefully tried to deny all throughout their talk, but now made itself readily apparent as it poked from under the fabric of his slacks. Mike felt like such a creep. Here he was, finally in a relationship after years of nothing, and now he was getting off to the well intentioned prodding of his coworker/friend/girlfriend’s friend. Closing his eyes and running his hand across his scalp, Mike let out another heavy sigh before leaning back in his chair and trying to forget everything that had just happened.
	It was only then, with his getaway clean and complete, that he realized he had left his flashlight back behind the stage; resulting in his sigh quickly devolving into a dismal groan before he begrudgingly rose from his chair and stared towards his office door.
	“No point in putting it off,” he grumbled to himself; and walked back out into the wider building.

	Glancing around the main room, Spring was nowhere to be found, and Mike counted himself lucky as he quickly darted towards the stage. It was so silly being afraid of a coworker like this, but right now, the only thing he wanted was to clear his head and get away from the thoughts that his naïve companion seemed insistent on thrusting upon him.
	As he hopped up on the stage and approached the entrance to the back room however, his thoughts did indeed shift away from the awkward topic of the day, as he detected a faint rustling from behind the maze of derelict audio equipment Spring had been so adamant he check out earlier. With the story of her last restaurant still fresh in his head, Mike’s mood grew deathly serious as he slowly and silently encroached upon the source of the noise.
	In his mind, he was preparing for the worst. If it was a rat, he could catch it and get rid of it. If it was roaches, well then he’d just have to accept whatever came next. But as Mike crouched down and peered through the wall of junk obscuring the mysterious rustling, what he found instead was something completely unexpected.
	Sitting alone on an old play-mat in the back corner of the dark, empty room, Mike could just make out the sight of Spring leaning back against the wall behind her and fiddling with something between her legs. About to call her name and ask what she was doing, he caught himself and stayed silent as a stray feeling got the better of him; a strange feeling that told him something wasn’t quite right here, and that he shouldn’t interfere. It wasn’t until a few more seconds of curious observation had passed that he realized what it was that his subconscious had already worked out.
	It was her. Spring was toying with herself.
	Mike’s jaw practically hit the floor as it dawned on him that he was watching Spring masturbate. Amidst the jumble of wires and mountains of old and forgotten storage boxes, the restaurant’s sickeningly sweet musician was completely occupied picking away at her own delicate strings; with her legs tensing and shuffling against the floor whenever striking a particularly sensitive cord, while her shaky voice sang a song of soft, startled gasps in time with each accompanying twinge. Altogether, every one of her actions added up into a muffled cacophony of sound just audible enough to be heard from beyond the room.
	He should have left her then and there -he was a taken man after all, and it wasn’t like he particularly needed to hang around for the chance to grab his flashlight- but to his shame, the thought of making a quick and silent getaway never once crossed his mind, and Mike instead remained exactly where he was; quickly growing as wrapped up in Spring’s performance as she herself currently was.
	Through his peephole, Mike watched on as her electronic huffs grew heavier and more strained, culminating in a jolt that nearly sent him jumping backwards; wherein Spring gasped aloud and sat up straight, ears and all. The two of them froze in unison -Spring teetering on the edge of her peak, and Mike watching breathlessly from the sidelines as the drama played out before him- but just when it seemed like she had reached its limit, the rabbit’s body began to relax, and she slumped back into her corner with a labored sigh.
	With the tension subsiding, Mike finally decided it was probably a good time to take his leave. He had seen enough –far more than he should have, really- and the last thing he wanted was to explain this little indiscretion should anyone else catch wind of Spring’s rustling and stumble in on them. But just as he was about to pull away from his peephole, he noticed his subject begin to glance around the room.
	Mike’s heart stopped as he assumed the worst. This was it: He had been caught, and there weren’t enough excuses in the world to explain away his presence here. He was too scared to even make a break for it now. All he could to was stare in frozen terror until she spotted him through the wall of shelves.
	To his eventual relief, however, that moment never came; as Spring’s eyes eventually narrowed instead atop a lone subwoofer, before she leaned over to nab he misplaced flashlight and take it back to her corner. Never in his life had Mike seen anyone look at something with as much coveting and adore as Spring looked at that flashlight. Her expression was so soft and warm as she eyed it up and down; gripping it in her palms; running her fingers along its edges and getting a feel for its mass and rigidity. It didn’t take a psychic to figure out what was about to happen next, and Mike once again found himself completely unable to look away as the actions played out before him.
	Her lips quivered excitedly as she slid the firm metallic rod across her pink, fleashy folds; getting its handle nice and slippery as she held it from the head. Then, after a moment of what he could only interpret as silent reverence, she plunged it between her thighs; her bucked-teeth biting down against her lower lip as she forced the tool inside of her with a stifled gasp followed by a light and bubbly giggle.
	A giggle.
	He was at a loss for words.
	It was all too much. The way she pet herself with such doting care; how she gazed down at his flashlight, with eyes so bright and full of affection as she wiggled it in and out; how she tickled and teased the tip of her vulva, happily murmuring to herself with each twinge that shot through her limbs- Spring couldn’t help but exude adorability even in the midst of something so base. Even the way she gasped to herself as a jet of fluid burst through her fingers and landed on the ground in front of her made Mike’s heart flutter just as much as it made his libido swell; like he should have patted her on the head and told her what a good job she was doing. From her first happy little plunge all the way up to her happy little orgasm, Spring reveled in her own joy like few people ever truly could; and when Mike finally did muster up the will to see himself out, he left with the glimpse of her looking completely contented in her efforts, as she tiredly settled back into her seat with heavy eyes and a smile he could only describe as positively blissful.

	Mike stayed in his office for a long while after that. Not wanting to move. Not wanting to talk to anyone. His mind was both empty and racing as he stared blankly at his monitor. It wasn’t right, what he did; for a lot of reasons. Spring’s right to her personal space, for one. Their longstanding friendship. His commitment to Chica.
	He had crossed a line for sure, and it was going to take some time for him to figure out how to work through it. Until then, all he could do was let the hours roll by and hope his shift would end without any further incident.
	This, of course, wasn’t to be, as the very last person he wanted to see inevitably knocked on his doorframe and let herself in with a big smile on her face and a painfully familiar object in her hand.
	“Hey Mike!” Spring beamed. “You forgot to come back for the rest of your guitar lesson.”
	Instantly wrought with embarrassment, took every ounce of will Mike hand not to mumble through his response.
	“I, uh, I was lazy,” was what his addled mind hurriedly came back with. “Just, you know, feeling tired. And I uh, didn’t.”
	“Oh, well, that’s okay. Truth is, I was a little out of it myself,” the rabbit responded blithely; unfazed by his stuttering demeanor. “But I’ve got it all out of my system now!”
	“Ye-Yeah?” He really had to fight himself to leave his reply at that.
	“Mm-hmm, I think I got a little too carried away with our conversation. I know it made you uncomfortable, but I just got so swept up in it. You know?” Mike kept his lips sealed tight but gave her a look of acknowledgment; prompting her to continue. “Anyway, I’m sorry about all that. You’re always such good friends to me. To all of us. And the last thing I’d ever want to do is make you feel awkward.”
	That one stung.
	“It’s… fine, Springy.”
	“No, I mean it! I know that kind of stuff can be embarrassing for some people, and it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. But, just remember, if you do want to- Or heck, if you just wanna talk about anything, you know I’ll always be here for you.”
	There it was again, that doting, innocent charm that made her so damn hard to shrug off. Deep down, Mike wanted to say something to her -something meaningful and heartfelt to make up for what he had seen- but his mind was still reeling, and the best he could do was a painfully honest, “Th-Thanks, Spring. You’re really a much better friend than I deserve.”
	“Haha! Don’t say that. You’ll make me blush,” she chuckled before quickly shifting gears. “Oh that reminds me!” she extended her arm and held his flashlight out towards him; prompting him to take it from her with an unflinching, unassuming smile. “You left this backstage.”
	Mike stared at it for a few more seconds than appropriate as he wondered whether or not she had cleaned it first, before reluctantly plucking it from her hand and hastily placing it on his desk. “Thanks, Spring. Uh, again.”
	“It’s no problem!” she said as she turned to walk out the door. “Just don’t end up losing it. You never know when it could come in handy!”
	And with that she was gone; out of the office and out of his hair for the rest of the night; yet never once leaving his mind until well after the sun had risen and his long and troubled shift had finally ended.