Sir Killinator the Fierce
Author: emocezi
Title: Sir Killinator the Fierce
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 665
Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers
A/N: Written for losers_pwn and the prompt sweat made me think of filthy porn. And Dammit, I'm not writing porn for a pwn prompt. I just won't. Not unless I'm specifically told by one of the mods to write porn for a prompt. Anyway, have some fic about robots and friendships and stuff.
“Turn on the fan. It's hot as balls in here.” Pooch snapped, tightening the last bolt into place. Jensen flicked on a switch that had a tiny ceiling fan come to life, barely stirring the tepid air in the garage. It offered a small amount of relief.
“You know, that really doesn't make sense. Because your balls actually have to be at a temperature for your swimmers to stay alive and healthy. It's why they hang low.” Jensen fanned himself with half an old Georgia license plate as he talked, looking for any sort of moving air.
“I shoulda welded your mouth shut when I had the chance.” Pooch muttered, wiping his forehead with the t-shirt he'd discarded an hour earlier. “I think it's done.”
“Sweet, let me get Data and I'll get the programming started.” Jensen paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder. “You don't think this is going to backfire on us right? Like we're not going to accidentally create a terminator, or Skynet or something, right?”
“You watch too many movies. Go get your computer.” Pooch waved the tech out the door and grabbed a half empty bottle of water. He drained it in two swallows and grabbed another one from the reuseable green Wallmart bag Jensen had brought with him. He was on some sort of green-save-the-planet kick now.
“Got it.” Jensen held the laptop in his arms like it was a colicky baby, cradling it to his naked chest despite the heat that was no doubt making the plastic stick to his skin. “Let me just plug you in and we'll get you programmed up in no time.”
“You should do those robot law things.”
“Issac Asimov's three laws of robotics? A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to ha--”
“Yeah, I get it. You've seen I, Robot to many times.” Pooch sneered, tossing a bottle at Jensen's head. He caught it right before it hit, eyes never leaving the computer screen. “How do you do that?”
“I have spider senses. Okay, that should about do it.” Jensen hit the enter button while Pooch supplied a drum role on a mostly empty set of paint cans.
Something started to whir and hum, a small trio of clicks sounded and Pooch crowed in victory as the two foot robotic monstrosity lurched across the concrete floor of his garage.
“IT'S ALIVE!!” Jensen shrieked, bouncing over to wrap Pooch in a bear hug, picking him up off the floor in the process.
“Put me down Igor.” Pooch patted Jensen's shoulder, trying to tap out. There was a scuffle at the door and Jensen let go of Pooch, ducking behind him when the garage door was wrenched open to reveal Jolene standing there, hands on her hips.
“What have you done to my air conditioning? It's hotter then hell inside the house.” She stopped at the sight of the small metal man lurching across the floor. “Is that...did you...Linwood Porteous. You built a robot without me? You didn't even consult me on it's design?”
Pooch looked at Jensen, save me written across his face. The hacker cleared his throat and stepped up to bat for his friend.
“We were gonna get you to name it.” Jolene's expression instantly softened and she skipped down the steps, pressing a kiss to Jensen's cheek, then kissing Pooch and looking down at the metal man.
“I'm going to call him Sir Killinator the Fierce.”
“That's an awesome name.” Jensen paused at the schmoopy faces Jolene and Pooch were sending each other and grabbed for his laptop and his shirt. “And on that note Data and I have a date with Cougar and some obscure Mexican movie I've never heard of.” He hightailed it out of the garage just as the kissing started.
Title: Sir Killinator the Fierce
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 665
Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers
A/N: Written for losers_pwn and the prompt sweat made me think of filthy porn. And Dammit, I'm not writing porn for a pwn prompt. I just won't. Not unless I'm specifically told by one of the mods to write porn for a prompt. Anyway, have some fic about robots and friendships and stuff.
“Turn on the fan. It's hot as balls in here.” Pooch snapped, tightening the last bolt into place. Jensen flicked on a switch that had a tiny ceiling fan come to life, barely stirring the tepid air in the garage. It offered a small amount of relief.
“You know, that really doesn't make sense. Because your balls actually have to be at a temperature for your swimmers to stay alive and healthy. It's why they hang low.” Jensen fanned himself with half an old Georgia license plate as he talked, looking for any sort of moving air.
“I shoulda welded your mouth shut when I had the chance.” Pooch muttered, wiping his forehead with the t-shirt he'd discarded an hour earlier. “I think it's done.”
“Sweet, let me get Data and I'll get the programming started.” Jensen paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder. “You don't think this is going to backfire on us right? Like we're not going to accidentally create a terminator, or Skynet or something, right?”
“You watch too many movies. Go get your computer.” Pooch waved the tech out the door and grabbed a half empty bottle of water. He drained it in two swallows and grabbed another one from the reuseable green Wallmart bag Jensen had brought with him. He was on some sort of green-save-the-planet kick now.
“Got it.” Jensen held the laptop in his arms like it was a colicky baby, cradling it to his naked chest despite the heat that was no doubt making the plastic stick to his skin. “Let me just plug you in and we'll get you programmed up in no time.”
“You should do those robot law things.”
“Issac Asimov's three laws of robotics? A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to ha--”
“Yeah, I get it. You've seen I, Robot to many times.” Pooch sneered, tossing a bottle at Jensen's head. He caught it right before it hit, eyes never leaving the computer screen. “How do you do that?”
“I have spider senses. Okay, that should about do it.” Jensen hit the enter button while Pooch supplied a drum role on a mostly empty set of paint cans.
Something started to whir and hum, a small trio of clicks sounded and Pooch crowed in victory as the two foot robotic monstrosity lurched across the concrete floor of his garage.
“IT'S ALIVE!!” Jensen shrieked, bouncing over to wrap Pooch in a bear hug, picking him up off the floor in the process.
“Put me down Igor.” Pooch patted Jensen's shoulder, trying to tap out. There was a scuffle at the door and Jensen let go of Pooch, ducking behind him when the garage door was wrenched open to reveal Jolene standing there, hands on her hips.
“What have you done to my air conditioning? It's hotter then hell inside the house.” She stopped at the sight of the small metal man lurching across the floor. “Is that...did you...Linwood Porteous. You built a robot without me? You didn't even consult me on it's design?”
Pooch looked at Jensen, save me written across his face. The hacker cleared his throat and stepped up to bat for his friend.
“We were gonna get you to name it.” Jolene's expression instantly softened and she skipped down the steps, pressing a kiss to Jensen's cheek, then kissing Pooch and looking down at the metal man.
“I'm going to call him Sir Killinator the Fierce.”
“That's an awesome name.” Jensen paused at the schmoopy faces Jolene and Pooch were sending each other and grabbed for his laptop and his shirt. “And on that note Data and I have a date with Cougar and some obscure Mexican movie I've never heard of.” He hightailed it out of the garage just as the kissing started.