Robots don't get tired. They get low on energy, require recharge, and do so. Carl could go easily for days, even a week or more without rest, and even longer if he could get in a few minutes recharge here and there.

Humans are spectacularly different.

Humans require sleep every night, for eight hours. Carl knows this and understands it; he's lived with such a strange collection of humans for long enough to know what humans need. If they don't get their sleep, they get grumpy. Eventually, they'll fall asleep on their own- seemingly regardless of the circumstances.

Bedtime at the Robinson house is 11PM, sharp. Cornelius sometimes stays up longer to work on his inventions, though Franny has scolded him for this on more than one occasion. Right now it's 11:43, and Carl is wandering the halls, checking up on everything as he's supposed to. There's really one thing on his mind, though, and it's not the task at hand.

It's a beautiful girl. The most beautiful girl not just in the house, but probably in the whole city. It's an unusual but melodic voice, it's that voice being the first to say his name when he was caught by a dinosaur. It's a name that rings in his processors like a bell.

Tallulah.

He sighs softly. His inside rounds complete, he goes outside to circle the house.

It wasn't the dinosaur attack that triggered these feelings- he's always felt this way. He's never really been the type for romantics (his key function is to be a brother figure, a caretaker for Wilbur, so of course he doesn't exactly spend his time reading Harlequin novels), but her, she's something special.

This isn't an usual train of thought for him on a lonely evening, either. He has lots of time to let his thoughts wander after everyone else is sleeping, and this is usually the first place they go.

Tonight, though, it seems he has company.

He sees her before she sees him; she's sitting by the teacup hedge, knees drawn up to her chest, looking up at the stars. She's wearing her nightgown, bright with white and black buildings and city lights, for once not wearing her hat.

Then he puts a hand on her shoulder, and the entire peaceful scene is shattered. She tries to jump up and whirl around at the same time and trips over herself and starts to fall. Then there's metal arms around her waist and shoulders, catching her before she hits the ground. She sighs, relieved.

"Oh, Carl," she says softly, then laughs. "You scared me for a second!"

"Sorry." If robots could blush, he'd be bright red by now; fortunately for him they can't, so he just holds her in his arms. "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Yeah, I guess…" She answers, looking sheepish. She looks at her feet and confesses, "I was having a little trouble sleeping."

He finally seems to remember himself and pulls her to her feet and sets her upright, and there's a small part of her that's disappointed when he pulls his hands away, looking embarrassed. "Why's that?"

She's a little reluctant to admit what's bothering her. She's a tough enough girl- not to say that she's boyish, but she knows how to take care of herself, always has, and she's never been the type to cry about everything. She shuffles her feet a little and coughs. Carl can tell when somebody's stalling (Wilbur's done it with him enough times), and he raises an eyebrow at her.

Tallulah scratches her arm, meets Carl's eyes. "I had a nightmare."

She sits back down in the grass and pats the spot next to her; the robot needs no second invitation and takes a seat there. "What about?" He asks, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"What happened before." She answers softly.

He gets the wrong idea. He thinks she means the possibility of disappearing, thinks she means a hostile world takeover, thinks she means being mind-controlled, for however brief a time- time is weird, he thinks, and even weirder is the fact that any of them remember all that. He thinks it might be because they were at the centre of the time ripple, but time travel is Cornelius's thing, not his, and it makes his electronic brain hurt just thinking about it.

"You mean with Doris? Ah, Tallulah, that couldn't ever…" He trails off when he sees her shaking his head. Confused, he tilts his head to one side. "No?"

"No, it was…" She coughs, turns away. "It's nothing."

"No, really, what was it?" He leans forward to try to catch her eye but she leans away; he could just extend his neck but somehow he wants her to want to look at him, if that makes any sense, which to him it doesn't.

"Nothing." She insists, but she doesn't turn to look at him, and a few moments later, she admits to what her nightmare was about. "The tyrannosaurus."

"The tyrannosaurus?" He echoes.

Said tyrannosaurus is out back behind the house, sleeping under the hedge he shares his shape with. He's startlingly tame, though he does on occasion try to eat the pizza delivery ship (they quickly figured out he just wanted the pizza inside).

But she has nightmares about the day he came in to the family. She… couldn't possibly mean that the way he hopes she means that. He gives her a questioning look. Finally she turns and meets his eyes.

"Look, we're all fine," he reassures. He hesitates for a moment, then puts an arm around her shoulders. "Besides, what have I got to worry about with you looking out for me?"

She giggles. "The same thing I have to worry about with you around, I guess."

His heart couldn't be fluttering- it's mechanical -but it sure feels like that's what it's doing. Tentatively, he pulls her up against his side. His heart feels like it flutters again when she moves with him and leans against his shoulder.

"Thanks, Carl," she murmurs. She snuggles comfortably into place there, settles down like this is the best place in the world she could possibly be. And he doesn't know about her, but that's just how he feels.