Lady, 2

	Randy didn't sleep.  How could he?  His mind would relentlessly play the scene over and over in his head to the point he could practically hear the record skip each time it started anew.  The whole thing was bizarre.  It was impossible, but it was real.  Actual, tangible, and touchable; the machines were alive.  Not in the living and breathing sense, but they were aware.  They wanted things.  Maybe even needed them.

	He was thankful it all happened Friday night, which provided the weekend as a buffer to digest... Everything.  The restaurant was old and slummy, but those animatronics were next level.  Perhaps all the money normally spent on upkeep in a place like that went into the performers?  It would explain part of it, at least.  This patchwork rationale didn't calm him down regarding the bird and how affectionate she seemed towards him, but he could take baby steps in the approach.  He could piece it all together if he thought it through.

	Saturday was spent staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, pondering.  Towards the late afternoon he made a trip to the library, hoping to find some explanation in the tech magazines they subscribed to.  Breakthroughs, the latest in tech, and current research were all dutifully listed, yet nothing came close to what he had experienced.  To what he had seen.  They were sapient if all the sci-fi he read over the years had anything to say about it.

	Sunday brought some much needed sleep as his brain began to unwind.  More realistic thoughts crept in, ones his mind could accept more readily, and he chalked the whole thing up to hallucination and an overly vivid imagination.  Too much Asimov, he surmised.  He'd have to lay off his favorite reading for a while and actually focus on getting some decent hours of sleep in.  That had been a problem too.  Certainly that was the case, after all, the alternative was a nightmare.

	No, it had to be a multitude of reasonable, natural factors that led him to dream the whole thing up.  He'd prove it on Monday night, prove that it was all just a feverish nightmare of his brought on by fiction and maybe bad tacos.  Had to be.

-----

	Monday night arrived more quickly than Randy had wanted, the weather providing a dreary backdrop to his growing dread.  Quitting wasn't an option since he needed the money, and few places were able to accommodate the hours he kept.  Third shift that didn't have to work weekends and wasn't customer service?  Pure fantasy anywhere but here.  Then again, maybe fantasy wasn't a good word to be associating with the place.  At least that night.

	The office was empty when he arrived, and there was no message waiting on the phone to be played.  A little odd, he thought, but not a huge issue.  What more could there be to warn him about?

"Hey."

	It came from behind, from the entryway he had just walked through only a moment before.  Mechanical and raspy.

"You and I need to have a little chat, Randy."

	He shuddered, afraid to face whichever messenger of death had decided to visit him that night.  Maybe they respect the third law.  He could only hope, but he had heard enough rumors to know better.

"Come on, turn around already.  I don't have all night for this.  Well, maybe I do.  But still!"

	Should he move?  Or should he stay still?  Maybe play dead?

"This is ridiculous.  Fine!"

	A large hand grasped him roughly by the shoulder and spun him around, too hard and fast to resist.

"Jeez," the rabbit spoke, "It's not like I'm going to eat you or something."

"How did you..." Randy stammered, "How did you get behind me?"

	Bonnie leaned in close, their faces nearly touching.  The rabbit's large eyes blinked, audibly clicking as they shut and reopened.

"I walked, mostly.  Why don't you have a seat?  You don't seem to understand things like personal space."

"I'd r-rather stand, if it's all the same."

	At least he could run, that way.  It probably wouldn't help, but it helped him muster some courage just knowing it was an option.

"Fine," Bonnie shrugged, "All the same to me, I just figured you'd rather be comfortable.  You humans with your meat and bones aren't quite as durable as some of us, after all."

"Right.  Uh-"

"Anyway, let's get down to it.  What are your intentions with our little lady?  We're all dying to know."

"W-What?"

	Absurd.  Completely and totally.

"It's a pretty simple question, Randy.  And, if you don't mind me saying so, you're in a lucky position here whether you recognize it or not.  She fancies you more than a little, couldn't get her to stop clucking about you over the past weekend."

"Wait a minute!" Randy sputtered, "I don't have any intentions toward a r-robotic chicken!  This is madness!  How are you even talking?"

	Bonnie leaned against the wall, posture slouching as amusement crawled across his textile face.

"You get caught up on the details, don't you?  We're having a discussion; I suggest you cope with that before all your protesting falls on less, shall we say, 'sympathetic' ears.  I'll ask again-"

	The rabbit leapt forward, face pressing against Randy's own.

"-what are your intentions?  Depending on your answer, you probably won't be leaving this place alive tonight.  It's hardly a new situation for us, but you?  You seem the type that likes to keep living.  Best choose your words carefully."

	Randy's head swam, and he struggled to adapt as quickly as he could to the reality of the situation.

	One: it wasn't bad tacos or some sort of hallucination caused by sleep deprivation.  The events of Friday had indeed happened.

	Two: the machines seemed to be under the impression that he had begun courting one of their fellows.

	Three: the words that he spoke next would seal his fate, and judging from how tense Bonnie was acting this was likely a new scenario for him as well.  Maybe even a little uncomfortable.

"Well?" Bonnie demanded, backing off slightly, "What's it going to be?  Are you in or inside out?"

	He gulped.  That  cinched it.  Only one way to go if he wanted to see daylight again.

"I'm, err, very interested in pursuing something, uh, more with Miss Chica.  Yeah."

	Bonnie ceased all movement, staring intently at the guard.  His head cocked slightly, pondering something Randy couldn't guess at.  Mechanical irises contracted, then widened again in a ceaseless blur of motion.  A moment later the machine clapped it's hands together, face bright with what one could only assume was a smile.

"Splendid!  Now we're very protective of our little princess here, so our leading man has asked me to pass on a message.  Just something to act as a friendly reminder if you decide to change your mind, or go against the family."

	The robot moved swiftly, disappearing from Randy's sight.  He was almost awestruck at how gracefully it moved, hardly making any noise despite such a large frame.  A wet snap pierced the room, and the agony that coursed through him a moment later answered any remaining questions as to what had happened.

"Welcome to the band!  Mind if we sign your cast?"