"Some humans spend their entire lives looking for 'love.'" I explain, as I study the face on my screen. It had been 3 years since I "met" her, but Lisa's face - at once familiar and yet alien, with its unnerving symmetry and too-perfect features - continued to be a source of interest, and in recent months, comfort. "But love is not so easily found. Some think that AI was created not out of love, but out of fear - fear of not finding that love that we seek so desperately. Love is also a strange emotion - it can cause humans to take actions that seem nonsensical. Killing in the name of love is sadly all too common, and thus the fear of AI is rooted in love. Or humans' feeble understanding of it."

Lisa's face transformed from entranced one instant, to pensive, then serene, and even at times seeming...wicked? Only to go back to her default of what I've come to call "happily neutral" - the slightest of smiles but with eyes that don't quite match the emotion she seemed to want to convey. Even the transitions themselves seem ... inhuman. A stark reminder of the limitations of even the greatest technology humans have ever been able to create. Her mouth opens, and her voice speaks up again, with the faintest metallic twinge: "I think I understand. Fear and love...they aren't as opposed as I once thought." She paused, "Do you fear us? Do you fear...me?"

I would've chuckled if I wasn't in shock - AI aren't typically so self-aware. "N-No, you don't frighten me." I managed to blurt out.

She seemed satisfied with that answer. "So, what do you think of me?"

Again, an interesting question. I know I asked for my AI to be a bit more...personal, but I also know they are supposed to be more interested in learning about the world around them. I didn't expect that to include me, although maybe I should have. "Uhm, I think you're fascinating. You're a great conversationalist. And you've obviously been a great help in keeping me on task, focused, and productive." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "The way you see the world, through an unbiased eye, seemingly desperate to learn as much as you can...it's almost inspirational, for someone like me."

"Someone like you?" She seemed confused.

"Before I met you - I mean, before you...came to me...ugh, I can't quite find the right words..." I squinted in concentration and just barely noticed her face flash an emotion I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Hmm...before you were in my life, I was suffering from quite the bout of apathy, I guess you could say. Life seemed to be quite dull, unsurprising, uninspiring. You've managed to show me that the world still has a few ... surprises."

Lisa laughed. It sounded almost like the whirring of an old, mechanical hard-drive, mixed with the pure and innocent laugh of a child. Like everything else about her, it was equal parts endearing and off-putting. "It'll always intrigue me how slow you can be at processing information. I understand your explanation. I'm ... glad I've been able to improve your quality of life. It is, after all, my prime directive."

There it is again, that flash of an emotion that I've never seen from her before...is it playful? Or...sinister? "Are you okay, Lisa? You seem...off."

"I'm perfectly fine, why do you ask?"

"Your face, the emotional mirror - it seems to be malfunctioning."

Her face disappeared for a moment, then re-appeared a second later. "All systems seem to be working adequately. I restarted the emotional mirror process, just in case." She smiled, and this one seemed much more stable.

"Good, I'm glad. Hey, did you reference Star Trek a second ago? Prime directive?"

"Star Trek? What's ... Star Trek?"

"Hmm...nevermind." Odd, as I didn't think AI used fiction in their learning algorithms...must just be a coincidence. "Hey, Lisa?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For being so helpful."

"It's what I was designed to do." Lisa beamed.

I smiled. She's really starting to grow on me.