Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel!

Author's Note: I saw a Japanese TV show recently about a girl who ends up ordering a robot that is programmed to be her ideal boyfriend. It was a funny show, and I thought it would be fun to adapt the concept into an AU story. I'm not going to use the whole robot thing… so let's see how it turns out. Hmm.

Note to ishandahalf: I haven't forgotten my promise to re-write my other stories. They're not coming out as good as the first round, but I should have one up soon!

--

Chapter #1: Zero-9

'Aaaaaaaachooo!'

'Bless ya.' Sam Guthrie reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain handkerchief. 'It's a little nippy out today, ain't it?' He held the handkerchief out to the girl sitting before him.

'Thank ya.' Rogue took it from him and held it between her hands. 'It's so warm!' she said, holding it up to her cheek.

Sam chuckled. 'You're so adorable.'

They gazed momentarily at each other; the man, with short, blonde hair, startling blue-gray eyes, bold, rugged features, and a smile to die for; the girl, with long brown hair around a streak of white, shimmering green eyes, fragile, dainty features, and a heartfelt disposition. They were sitting outside of a café, across the street from where Rogue worked. She had a temporary position at a small art gallery called Waza. Sam Guthrie was a regular visitor at the gallery. He was a self-professed artist, but enjoyed viewing new art more than creating his own.

'Oh stop, you're embarrassin' me.' She blushed, her heart pounding loudly. 'Ah have somethin' Ah wanna show ya.'

She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick piece of paper. She held it out to him.

'What's this?' Sam looked at the paper and saw his own face staring back at him. It was a very accurate and proficient portrait of himself. 'Did you draw this?'

Rogue nodded, still blushing. 'Ah went to an art school but never took it up. Ah guess you can say ya kinda inspired me to start it up again.' Her blush deepened. 'What do ya think?'

Sam smiled. 'Ah think it's brilliant, girl!'

Rogue tried to hide her pleasure in being able to impress him. 'Mr. Guthrie, Ah—'

'You're gonna ask me out, right?' he said, interrupting her.

'Oh!' Rogue's green eyes sparkled with excitement.

'Ah can tell you wanna ask me somethin'. You need advice, right?' He seemed totally oblivious to her intentions. 'Is it 'bout work? Advice 'bout love?' He wiggled his brows.

Rogue's excitement faded. 'No… it's not that…' She didn't want advice on anything. They had been friends for so long, how could Sam not see her feelings for him?

Sam's cellphone suddenly started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the name of the caller. 'Jeez, sorry, Ah gotta go. Ah have a client callin' me.' He stood up and grabbed his jacket.

'Wait!' Rogue also stood up, facing him with a determined expression on her face. 'Ah wanted ta ask ya… what do ya think of me?'

Sam, slightly taken aback, smiled. 'Well… Ah think ya work really hard, and you're a fab artist.' He held up the portrait she had done. 'You're a great friend, Rogue.'

'Oh, Ah see.' Was that the sound of her heart breaking?

'Yea, well I gotta go. Keep drawin', Ah'd like ta see more of your work.' He reached out and squeezed her shoulder before heading off towards his car.

Rogue sighed. 'A great friend…?'

--

His dark, red eyes glinted in the dim light. The bars that held him within the small square room could not keep out the golden coloured puppy now licking the tip of his finger. He tilted his head, examining the puppy with a curious look on his face.

'His name is Darwin,' said a familiar voice, and out of the shadows appeared Dr. Henry McCoy. 'I thought you might be lonely, Zero-9, so I brought you this little friend.'

'Dar… win….' Zero-9, his dark, red eyes moving to the puppy once again, smiled. 'Thank… you, Dr. McCoy.'

'His speech is coming along nicely, isn't it?'

Henry, also known as Hank to his friends, turned around and nodded at the second man. 'Yes, indeed, Dr. Essex. He is nearly ready for testing.' Hank turned his eyes on Zero-9 affectionately. 'I am in the process of searching for a female candidate as we speak.'

'If this project is successful, Dr. McCoy, then we will need to move on to the mass production stage.' Dr. Essex's dark eyes sparkled with excitement.

--

Nathaniel Essex, a former scientist, had dedicated the later part of his life to the study of Genetics. He was a renowned Geneticist, but his passion didn't lie solely on the research of the body's makeup. He was, above everything else, a businessman.

Many years ago, when he was teaching at a University, his student and fellow scientist Dr. Henry McCoy proposed the concept of creating the absolute perfect human. Essex readily accepted the proposal. Creating the perfect human being would be an accomplishment far beyond any scientist had ever reached. But as the two young men embarked on this tedious quest, they realized with much disappointment that creating a perfect human being was impossible. After all, the definition of "perfect" was rather subjective. The project was dropped.

But Hank never gave up the idea of creating perfection. After graduating, he pondered the notion for many years, until one day, sitting outside the complex where he worked, he found himself observing a young couple across the street. The boyfriend had arrived late, and apparently the girlfriend had waited a good hour for him. She seemed very upset, but the boyfriend couldn't seem to find a decent enough excuse to explain his tardiness. They had a heated argument, in which the girlfriend vented her frustrations, and the boyfriend, flustered, tried disparately to apologize. Eventually the boyfriend, giving up, confessed that he couldn't meet the girl's exaggerated expectations, and stormed off. The girl, throwing her hair over one shoulder in a dismissive manner, crossed the street to where Hank was sitting and sat down at the bus stop. Angrily, she turned to the surprised Doctor – the only other person around – and sighed.

'Why can't a girl find a decent, caring man?' she said, in a frustrated tone.

Hank, completely taken aback, merely shook his head. 'I… do not know?'

The girl scrutinized Hank for a good long moment, before turning away. 'All guys should come with a manual. That way we can figure out how to fix them if they come out demented.' She laughed, but it was an angry laugh. 'Better yet, there should be one huge man-farm. That way all we gotta do is go there, place an order, and have the perfect boyfriend shipped to our door.' As she finished her sentence, the bus arrived and, as if Hank had never existed, she boarded and departed without acknowledging that she had ever spoken to him.

But Hank, for his part, never forgot that girl. Or rather, he never forgot her words. As he sat there, watching the departing bus, his mind began to work overtime. The perfect boyfriend? He suddenly jumped to his feet. The perfect boyfriend! Hurrying back to his lab, which, at that time, he had shared with Nathaniel, he told him all about the couple and how, suddenly inspired, he thought they should resume their previous project. Instead of creating the perfect human being, why not create the Absolute Boyfriend?

Nathaniel was hesitant at first, but slowly, as he pondered the idea, he realized that there was an excellent business opportunity present. If they could successfully create the absolute boyfriend, wouldn't every female in the nation want one for herself? The idea seemed quite profitable…

They had gone to the drawing board immediately. It was Hank's job to go out and collect research in order to compile the data needed to create the perfect boyfriend. He interviewed hundreds of women and, drawing upon the experiences of men as well, began mapping out a personality. Nathaniel's job was then to take the data and construct the genetic makeup. With the perfect sperm, and the perfect egg, he began the difficult task.

More years passed. After eight failed experiments, Nathaniel finally managed to produce the perfect body. Zero-9, who had started off as just an organic fetus floating in a test-tube, grew and matured into a dashing young man. He had shoulder length brown hair; rugged, chiseled features; a perfect jaw line; a toned, muscular body; strong, large hands; slim hips; tall height; and above all, a dashing smile. The one fault was his bizarre red-on-black eyes. How these came about was a complete mystery to Nathaniel, but as Hank had pointed out, women liked a mysterious quality in a man.

After creating the human body, Nathaniel's job was done. He didn't want anything more to do with the construction of the project, and so instead dedicated all his time to the business side of things. He was a rather charismatic and influential individual and managed to get various grants from prominent companies.

This left Hank to worry about Zero-9's upbringing. From infancy, Zero-9 was taught, instructed, and guided by Hank. Zero-9 was kept within the walls of the lab, and was only taken outdoors if Hank's lesson required it (i.e. to teach Zero-9 about flowers). All his teachings revolved around the research Hank had collected. Hank wasn't trying to raise a well-rounded individual. He was trying to raise the perfect boyfriend. The conditioning had been hard, grueling work, but eventually Hank had begun to see some signs of success. He would invite some of his female colleagues to test Zero-9 out, and the results had been encouraging.

Zero-9 was now 26 years old, and ignorant about everything in the world except the mindset of women. He slept in a small room with bars along one wall, but had full range of the lab's facilities during the day. He was intelligent, but without a female around, his personality was quite lacking. Zero-9 would only function properly when there was a woman around to activate his reason for being alive.

It would soon be time to find him one…

--

'Perhaps love is, by nature, a rather sorrowful thing,' Essex said, watching the puppy jump in and out of Zero-9's lap. 'However, if the mass production is successful, there will no longer be any more suffering women.' He smirked.

'There will be a lot more single men walking around, though,' Hank replied.

Essex chuckled. 'There will always be those women who cannot afford the Absolute Boyfriend. But first, we have to find ourselves a test subject.'

'True.' Hank nodded. 'I will find Zero-9 the perfect woman. We must do so quickly. Zero-9 may be conditioned into a fine-tuned machine, but he is still a man.'

'Actually…' and here Essex flashed Hank a huge grin. 'I have been working on something.' From his pocket he pulled out a small square memory chip. From the memory chip hung three thin wires. 'I have created a small circuit in Zero-9's brain. Everything that passes through his mind will be backed up and easily transferable to this memory chip. If Zero-9 begins to act out of accordance to his conditioning, it will only be a matter of a few shock currents to set him straight.' He handed the chip to Hank. 'We can also insert any specific features the female customer may want in her Absolute Boyfriend. The data will trigger the right parts of the brain and Zero-9 will instantly adapt to the information.'

Hank stared at Essex. 'But… is that not a bit inhumane?'

Essex laughed. 'My dear friend! You are forgetting that Zero-9 is not just a human. He is a product.'

'Yes, indeed. But—'

'It is our responsibility to ensure that our product is safe for the consumer,' Essex continued, interrupting Hank. 'If Zero-9 begins to act out on his own, the consumer will be dissatisfied, and will most likely ask for a refund. We are not creating just another form of man. We are creating the Absolute Boyfriend. He must therefore be… absolute.'

Hank didn't quite like the idea of manipulating Zero-9's thoughts, though the more he thought about it, the more he realized that that was exactly what he had been doing through his teachings. He had to remind himself that Zero-9 was a product before he could be considered human. He sighed. 'So, a product solely dedicated to love…'

Essex smiled. 'Indeed.'

--

'Rejected?' Ororo Munroe finished pouring Rogue a drink and slid it across the countertop of the bar.

'Sucks, don't it?' Rogue took the drink, smiling half-heartedly at the beautiful bartender. She sighed deeply, causing her white bangs to flutter up.

'But you didn't even 'ave de chance to tell him how you feel.' Rogue and Ororo turned to the third woman. She had long, straight blonde hair, startling blue eyes, and a very pretty face. 'Dere's still hope!'

'The outcome woulda been the same, Ah'm sure,' Rogue replied, sighing again. ''Sides, Belle, he just didn't seem int'rested.' She tried to give her friends a smile. 'Ah'm sorry y'all gotta put up with mah woes.'

'Nonsense,' said Ororo.

'Yes, we are friends, after all.' Belle wrapped her arm around Rogue's shoulders encouragingly. 'Dat's what we're here for.'

Rogue smiled. In this world, she had two very dear friends. Ororo Munroe, the tall and slender, white-haired beauty, was perhaps her dearest friend. She was more like an older sister than anything else. She had met Ororo years ago, when she had first moved into the big city. Rogue had found an apartment just down the street from Ororo's bar, which Ororo had named N'dare after her deceased African mother. Ororo had been responsible for showing Rogue how to survive in the big city, and also helped her get the job she now had. Ororo was very mature and very wise, and Rogue often found herself visiting the bar to get Ororo's insight on significant, and not-so-significant, matters. No one knew as much about her as Ororo did.

Her other friend was Bella Donna Boudreaux, affectionately called "Belle" by her friends. She worked at the same gallery as Rogue. Belle had been responsible for training Rogue in her job and they had soon become good friends. Bella Donna was beautiful and very charismatic. She was popular with the local men and was one of the reasons why Waza Gallery was doing so well. She was talented and creative and very aggressive when it came to something she was passionate about. At first Rogue had been rather intimidated by her, but as she got to know Belle, she saw that she was actually quite sweet and caring. Together with Ororo, Belle was always there for Rogue when she needed a sympathetic ear, although Ororo and Belle never did quite get along.

'Anyway, I best get going,' Belle said, looking at the clock behind Ororo's head.

'Boyfriend?' Rogue asked, already knowing the answer. She frowned dejectedly.

'Awww sorry, Rogue! I hate to leave when you're feeling dis low, but I promise to make it up to you.' She turned to Ororo. 'T'anks for de drink.'

'Not a problem,' Ororo said, waving as Belle hurried out the door. Rogue looked after Belle with a pout. Ororo chuckled. 'Oh stop with that pathetic face, Rogue. You will never get a boyfriend with that sour expression.'

'Ororoooooo,' Rogue wined. 'That's mean!'

'Yes yes.' Ororo refilled Rogue's drink. 'Drink up and forget your unrequited love.'

'Unrequited love…' Rogue hung her head, feeling the strings of her heart pulling apart. She had liked Sam from the first time she had set eyes on him. How could she forget her feelings over the course of a drink? She pulled the handkerchief he had lent her out of her pocket.

'What is that?' Ororo asked, nodding her head at the cloth Rogue held in her hands.

'A symbol of Mr. Guthrie's kindness,' Rogue said, looking down at the handkerchief affectionately.

'I thought you said you were going to give up on him?' Ororo shook her head. 'Rogue, this is why you can never find a boyfriend. You are far too sentimental. I can imagine guys get intimidated by you and your feelings.'

Rogue pouted.

'Rogue, you will never be able to find the perfect boyfriend if you continue on like this.'

Rogue knew Ororo well enough to know that the woman had her best interest at heart, and therefore was not offended by Ororo's words. She was just trying to help.

'Ah wanna change, Ororo,' she said, smoothing out the handkerchief on the counter.

'I know you do, child.' Ororo looked up as a few regulars entered her bar. 'Excuse me a second, Rogue.' Ororo grabbed a tray as she went to get their orders.

'You said you would like to change your life?' A bulky man, with brilliant blue hair and round spectacles on his nose, came and sat on the stool beside her. Rogue recognized him as the man who had been sitting at the back of the bar when she had first walked in.

'Excuse me?' Rogue gave him a suspicious look.

The man pulled a business card out of his pocket and held it out to her. She took it. It was a black card, with bold white lettering that said "Sinister Projects". There was no address or location. At the bottom right hand corner there was a phone number, and a name. 'Dr. Henry McCoy…'

'At your service,' replied the man, flashing her a toothy grin.

--

A few days later…

Rogue looked around the small office. It was rather sterile in appearance. There was a metal desk in the center of the room, a couple of chairs, one computer facing her direction, and a laptop facing Dr. McCoy. There was only one window in the room and Rogue could make out the darkening sky outside.

After her rather short conversation with the strange man at the bar, Rogue had left N'dare feeling rather down. Not only had she been suffering from a broken heart, but also she seemed to have had the word "Pathetic" written across her forehead. She returned from work each night in a worse mood, having witnessing Sam Guthrie act so nonchalant around her. And each night she found herself staring at the business card the man at the bar had given her. She wasn't quite sure what he had been going on about, but as the nights got longer and the days more painful, she decided that she would give the stranger a chance. Who knows, perhaps he really could help her change her life…

And so, here she was.

'Please, have a seat,' Hank said, gesturing at the chair in front of the computer. A woman had walked into the room and now stood behind Hank's chair. She had long, red hair and green eyes that looked at Rogue curiously.

Rogue sat down. The red-haired woman pulled out a camera and instantly took a few of Rogue's pictures. Rogue jumped up, surprised. 'What was that for?'

Hank smiled at her assuredly. 'Just part of the process.'

'What process?'

Hank motioned to the redhead. 'Jean, please give Miss. Darkholme the pamphlet.'

Jean pulled a small booklet out of the desk drawer and handed it to Rogue. Rogue took the book from her and flipped through it.

'This is Dr. Jean Grey. She will be assisting me with your product.'

'Product?' Rogue raised an eyebrow.

Hank nodded, smiling. 'Jean and I are going to introduce you to your absolute ideal boyfriend, free of charge!'

The pamphlet slipped from Rogue's hands. 'Uh… wait. Ah know about this sorta thing. Ah'm not int'rested in a dating service.'

Hank shook his head. 'My dear, we are definitely not that kind of company.'

'Ah'm sorry, but Ah'm not int'rested,' she repeated. She placed the pamphlet on the desk before moving towards the door. Coming here had been a mistake.

'In order to change your life,' Hank said, as she pulled open the door, 'you have to have the courage to take the first step.'

Rogue stopped and looked over her shoulder. 'The first step?'

'Did you not say that you wanted to change?'

Rogue nodded, eyeing him suspiciously.

'Well, now is your chance. Please, listen to what we have to offer. There are no strings attached, and the trial is free of any charges. It is a win-win situation for you.'

Rogue bit her bottom lip. Well, she had nothing to lose… so… 'Alraht, Ah'll listen.'

She walked back into the room.

--

Author's Note: So, what do you think? I know it sounds a lil' bizarre right now… but hopefully I'll communicate it well. I'm thinking of a love-triangle… and right now the third person I have in mind is Bobby. Any other suggestions? All reviews welcome!