Work Text:
Maureen lounged on her new wicker patio furniture, basking in the blue sky that she could never have experienced again on Earth. With Will and Robot back from space, all her chicks were back in their roost, and she could finally relax.
Maureen felt the sunbeams suddenly leave her skin. She opened her eyes to find Robot standing over her, gently holding something in his hands she couldn’t see.
“Hi, Robot,” Maureen smiled up at Robot. Now that they were out of danger, everyone got to relax, and Maureen had begun to realize how curious and childlike Robot could be at times. “Whatcha got there?”
Robot lowered his hands down slowly to Maureen’s lap. He opened his hands and dropped it into his pseudo-mother’s lap.
Maureen stared at the dead bird.
She took a deep breath and stared up at Robot. His face swirled excitedly, seemingly proud of his accomplishment.
“Is this for me?” She said nervously.
“Yes.”
Admittedly, she had some practice in feigning awe with some less than stellar art projects (it’s the effort that counted anyway, and she’d worked to be better at appreciating all of her kid’s works since Penny’s memoir), but this…
“What do I do with it?”
“Help.”
Her face fell. “I’m sorry, Robot, but it’s dead. I can’t help it.”
“No,” Robot pointed at Maureen “Help Maureen Robinson.”
“You want to help me?”
“Yes.”
Maureen pondered what problem she had recently that a bird would fix. The only problem she could think of mentioning around her family was being at a loss for what to cook for dinner.
She froze.
“Is this for us to eat tonight?”
“Yes.”
Maureen smiled stiffly. “Robot, we don’t eat animals anymore.”
Robot cocked his head. The thing is they did still eat meat sometimes. They managed to get their hands on some real steaks for John’s birthday a few weeks ago.
“Did you kill it yourself?”
“No.”
Maureen kept her smile. If he killed it himself, she could explain how he wasn’t supposed to hurt anything. Tell him this will be a one time thing before at least knowing that the meat is fresh.
She swallowed. She was just about to explain to Robot why they couldn’t just pick up dead animals when she saw his beaming face. Since there was no need to fight or stand sentinel anymore, she sometimes wondered if Robot felt he wasn’t needed.
Maureen took a deep breath, knowing she’d come to regret this. “Just this once, cooking is our responsibility, not yours.”
Robot lit up, happy to give this little gift to his family.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Maureen lifted up the bird to take to the kitchen. There she plopped it into the trash, washed her hands, and double checked that they had canned chicken in the cabinet still. It would make him feel like he helped them (and it’s not like he’d notice if it was cut up in a soup.)