NTBM: Part Two
As soon as they got there, Nella started to panic. Staying at home when they were like this was fine, they could do whatever the hell they wanted there and everything would be fine. But here, it was a completely different story. What if the Chick got lost? What if she looked like a horrible mother? She knew her friend was still in there, that it wasn't a completely new four year old girl, but what if it was still obvious to everyone that she had no fricking clue how kids worked? She was already positive that she had broken some kind of law by putting the Chick in her normal position of shotgun.
She leaned back in her seat. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."
The girl undid her seatbelt, preparing to get out. "Of course it was. Now would you let me out?"
"Dude, what if this all goes wrong?"
Her friend rolled her eyes. "Would you just relax and act normal for once in your life?"
She looked over at all the parents and their kids walking around the park. Some were happily holding hands and eating ice cream like they were in a commercial, a few were trying to deal with kicking and screaming brats and a couple of parents were shouting at each other while their children got ignored or made their own fun. In all honesty, they would fit right in.
"We'll be fine."
"Was there any ever doubt? Now let me out, woman."
**
Linkara wasn’t feeling too much like himself. The sugar high was starting to wear off, he had been a child for far too long and Dr. Insano wasn’t as nearly as much fun when he was five foot above him. And to top it off, that high-pitched mumbling sound that was coming from one of the bottom shelves was starting to annoy him beyond all rational belief.
He looked around and found that Dr. Insano was nowhere to seen. Good. He grabbed the pink ball, dropped it to the floor and squashed it into a dead, gloopy mess underneath his boot. He planned on regretting this later but right now, he was just glad that his enemy didn’t have anyone but him.
**
“You gave him a fucking cattle prod?!”
The Critic shrugged. “It was for his birthday.”
He asked again. “You gave him a fucking cattle prod? What were you thinking?”
The boy rolled his eyes. “Uh, hi? Coward here? I give him things and then run the fuck away.” But unheard by Ask That Guy, there was a tiny note of pleading in there, trying to get him to understand.
He slumped down in the armchair, rubbing his temples. “That’s like giving Hitler a country because he asked nicely.”
“Could you not compare me to Hitler?” Ask That Guy… asked, playfully.
The Critic snorted. “Dude, you are far worse than Hitler.”
“That’s very true. But it still hurt my feelings,” Ask That Guy sniffed, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Ooh, remember last Christmas, when you got really drunk and tried to find new ways to kill me?” the Critic asked, talking more like it was something inconvenient rather than something traumatizing.
“Best Christmas ever,” Ask That Guy reminisced, with a creepily dreamy smile on his face.
“For you, maybe,” the Critic pouted.
“Says the guy who wore a tiny, red miniskirt and hooker heels for some unknown reason.”
While his brain was short-circuiting at that image, he managed to hear the Critic say “Didn’t mean I was having fun while you were torturing me, dumbass.”
“Obviously you enjoyed it. Admit it; you’re a crazy little masochist.”
"I don't think you can win this one, Critic," he piped up from his armchair at the same time, recovering and enjoying the show.
"Shut up."
"You know you could probably still die by bleeding out completely, right?" Ask That Guy smirked.
The Critic clapped sarcastically. "You should get an award for being this morbid."
The other boy bowed in thanks. "I do try. Now both of you piss off, I’ve got stupid questions to answer.” With that, he walked into the study, straightening his bathrobe.
The Nerd watched him go, used to things by now. "How the hell did you two end up sleeping together anyway?"
"I, uh, was just bored one day and I ended up in his lap," the Critic replied, suddenly blushing an amusingly dark shade of red.
He snorted, ignoring the logical part of his brain that told him it was very wrong to talk about sex with a six year old. "Slut."
The child grinned. "You're the only one who makes that sound like a compliment."
“Whatever. Want me to do dinner?”
The Critic raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “You can cook?”
“Obviously. Can’t you?”
“Why the fuck do you think I live off cereal and pizza?”
**
Dr. Insano hadn’t felt this shitty in a long time. He had found a smug-looking Linkara in the living room about an hour ago. If that hadn’t sucked enough, the pink stain on the carpet and on Linkara’s shoe was what broke him completely.
He didn’t even remember what was said. All that stuck out was white hot rage, lots of yelling and Linkara eventually running off somewhere in tears. None of which had actually made him happy. So he scraped what was left of his son and placed him delicately on the very top shelf. It was the least he could do, after all.
But when he had actually found Linkara hiding under the bed, the boy was in no mood to chat.
“Hey, Linkara.”
“…”
“Would you like to come out from under the bed?”
“…”
“Do you want to go and get some ice cream? I know how much you love chocolate and the shops are probably still open.”
“…”
“I’m really sorry for yelling at you.”
“…”
“Do you think you could tell me why you destroyed my son?” That probably wasn’t the most tactful way to put it but, as he said before, he really wasn’t good with kids.
“…”
“Or at the very least, talk to me?”
“Don’t feel like it,” he said, sullenly.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Judging by the silence, he took the response to be a big, fat, resounding yes.
But he wasn’t about to give up now, so he phoned up MarzGurl and hoped like fuck that she would be able to sort things out. When she picked up, he immediately blurted out “For the love of God, help me.”
“Huh? Dr. Insano?”
It came out in a long string of words which he hoped she would somehow manage to understand. “Linkara’s a kid now, I thought he was going to be easy so I let him have candy and then he was on a sugar high and he was destroying everything and I kind of lost it and screamed at him and now he hates me and we both need our favourite woman to sort things out so can you come over and if you say no I’ll burn your house down?”
That obviously didn’t work, judging by her confused reaction. “How the fuck am I supposed to understand any of that? Slow down and start from the beginning.”
He took a deep breath. “Alright. Linkara’s a three year old again.”
There was a pause as she processed this. “Oh-kay. What did you do?”
He bashed the phone against the table in frustration. “I had nothing to do with this!”
“Okay, okay. Tell me what happened next?”
“Well, he was being really quiet and reading comics like a good boy so I let him have candy…”
“And that’s the stupidest thing you could possibly do. Next?”
“He obviously went crazy and he destroyed nearly everything, including my new son.”
She paused, taking this in. “I’m sorry. But I’m guessing you really didn’t take that very well, right?”
“I really lost it and screamed at him. I don’t even remember what I said.”
There was silence on her end. That really wasn’t helping his nervousness. “MarzGurl? Please say something?”
“Did you at least try and talk to him afterwards?”
“I tried but I don’t know how and now he hates me and he won’t talk to me and I don’t even have my son anymore.” Holy shit, was he about to cry?
She took pity on him. “Sweetie, just calm down, okay? Would you like me to come over?”
He sniveled, willing to wallow in his patheticness. “Please?”
“I’ll be right down. By the way, good God, you men suck. I never get these problems with Little Miss Gamer.”
That cheered him up slightly. “Yes, please mention your girlfriend as often as possible. That makes me happy.”
“Oh, darling, I and all bisexual women exist to make you happy, right?” she said sarcastically. But fondly, so it was alright.
**
Nella was exhausted already. It was a hot, humid day in LA and seeing as how the Chick was far too young to going to be on any rollercoasters, there wasn’t much air to be had. But the massive ferris wheel was fun, the tea-cup ride induced nostalgic feelings for her childhood, the sparkly unicorns on the merry-go-round were actually pretty cute and, luckily for her sanity but not her wallet, the Chick was quite happy - but not too happy, thank God - to spend her time eating pink candyfloss.
At the moment, they were sitting on one of the benches in the playground. She was too busy feeling the after-effects of too many sweets to notice at first but eventually she caught eye of three boys hanging around the swings, looking about five or six and all with spiky hair, who were looking at them with interest.
"I think they like you," she said to the Chick with a smile.
"Would they get scared of me if I told them I was really twenty-four?" Knowing the Chick and the particularly evil glint she had in her eye, she'd bet money that she'd be more than happy to.
"Why don't you go play with them? They look non-annoying enough and I'll still be here, recovering from all that candy floss you made me buy."
The girl wrinkled her nose in disgust, teasingly. "Why would I do that? I'm a lady with self-respect."
She snorted, being sure to keep her voice low so nobody would hear her discussing sex with a four year old. "Lindsay, honey, getting a man pregnant doesn't exactly scream self-respect."
The Chick bit her lip, deep in thought. "Does the Critic really count as a guy, though?"
She giggled, twirling her finger in her girlfriend's hair. "Only technically."
"So it doesn’t count," she smirked in response. "And besides, being a fairy's daddy is something most women can't accomplish in this day and age."
"Exactly," she said sarcastically. "You should be proud of yourself. Just like you should be proud of yourself for having a foursome with Spoony, Goggles and Benzaie.”
The Chick winced, looking down at the tarmac uncomfortably. “In my defence, I had no idea what I was doing that night.”
She understood, putting her arm around the girl and cuddling her closer. “I know, sweetie, I know.”
The Chick perked up five seconds later, changing the subject completely. “Ooh! You know what else I could tell them? I could tell them that I have robot limbs and I could crush their necks with a squeeze of my hand.” She made a move to rush over there but Nella stopped her before she could.
“While I dislike kids as much as you do, can we not traumatize them for life?”
There was a pout. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t feel like having mothers coming over to me and calling me horrible at the moment.”
The Chick sat back on the bench, looking sulky and folding her arms. “You’re no fun.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to look for something else they could do and finding one of those stalls where you could shoot targets and win prizes.
She grabbed the Chick’s hand. “Come on, I’ll make it up to you.”
When they got there, the teenager running it smirked at them. “Are you sure you can do this, Miss? It’s a hard game.”
“Whatever. How much is it? How do I play? And how do I get one of those big toys for my daughter?”
The guy looked at both of them and raised an eyebrow silently.
“I had her at a young age, okay? Now gimme the details.”
He rattled them off, bored and having had a long day. “Three dollars to play, you have to shoot the moving ducks in under three minutes and hitting six will get you one of the big prizes.”
Before she could give him the money, the Chick tugged at her sleeve.
“What is it?” she asked, leaning down to her level.
“Sure you can do this? I’ve never seen you pick up a gun in your life.”
She patted her on the shoulder confidently. “Just wait.”
Her confidence paid off. She cocked the gun out of habit and shot seven of the stupidly-grinning duckies in the allotted time. She put the gun back and grinned when she saw the teenager looking impressed and the Chick looking pleasantly shocked.
“How the hell did you learn to shoot so well?” the Chick asked in a sotto voice.
“It is just a game honey, it’s not like it’s a real gun,” she responded modestly.
The kid rolled her eyes. “Tell me honestly.”
“When I was little, my Dad took me out to watch me and his friends hunt. Happy?”
The Chick pulled her down even more, until her lips were right next to her ear. “Keep this between you and me… but that was actually pretty hot.”
Before she had a chance to respond, the guy running the stall interrupted her. “Miss?”
“Mmm?”
“What prize would you like?”
She honestly had no idea what to choose. The big toys all looked so… big. “Uh, Lindsay? It’s your choice.”
The Chick didn’t take too long to decide as she pointed to a monstrously huge, presumably very cuddly, snow-white polar bear hanging at the very end. “That one, please.”
The guy smiled, unhooked the bear and gave it to her. “There you go, sweetheart.”
Nella had to stifle a giggle; she could only just barely see her friend’s pigtails over the toy. “Want me to carry it, Linds?”
“That would be lovely,” the Chick muttered, deadpan.
**
MarzGurl really didn’t know what to expect but she really wasn’t expecting a guy in goggles to hug her fiercely and slightly desperately as soon as he had opened the door. When it had gone on long enough, she patted him on the back awkwardly. “Um, honey? I heard that breathing was a good thing.”
He let her go, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“Still no change?”
He looked down at his shoes. “No.”
She sighed. “And I guess you want me to play ‘mother’?”
He smiled slightly. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”
She hit him hard on the shoulder. “Shut it. And where is he?”
“In the bedroom, under the bed. And don’t be so rough, woman.”
She started to set off to where Linkara apparently was, smirking at him. “You’ve never said that before.”
**
Linkara had now, for some unknown reason, got tired of being underneath the bed and decided that curling up in the bathtub would be far more comfortable. MarzGurl knelt down beside it, trying to think of what would be the best thing to say. She wasn’t exactly the best with kids, no matter what thoughts Dr. Insano might have concocted in his weird little mind.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” At least he was talking to her.
“You’re a cute kid.” He was a cute adult as well, she mused shallowly.
“I’m getting bored of it.”
“And why would you?”
“Because I’m somewhere in between a horrible child and an adult.”
She sat him up and adjusted his hat. “Explain?”
“I killed Dr. Insano’s son.”
She suddenly had a great interest in the taps. “I know.”
“I was jealous of it, even before.”
“Dude, it’s an alive, pink ball. There’s nothing to be jealous of.”
He lay back down again, embarrassed. “I know that. I AM A MAN…, or boy, whatever, I don’t know. The point is that we’re usually idiots.”
She laughed. “You have a very good point. So do you want to come down with me and apologize?”
“Nah. I’ll just stay here until I grow up again, whenever that is.” But she wasn’t about to let him do that, she picked him by his waist and took him in her arms, ignoring his protests as she carried him down the stairs.
**
Dr. Insano had seen a lot of strange things in his life; two Kung Fu Jesus Monster-y thingies destroying a city, for example, being just one of them. But, for some reason, MarzGurl coming down the stairs with a squirming child version of Linkara was probably one of the most surreal.
“Dr. Insano? Linkara has something he’d like to say to you.”
“This is humiliating,” Linkara whined, pouting.
“MarzGurl, he doesn’t have to,” he said at the same time, starting to blush. Men really weren’t supposed to have these kinds of moments, no matter how “close” they were.
One look of death shut them both up. “You called me to help out, right? This is me helping. Deal with it and man up, both of you.”
Linkara sighed. “Can you at least put me down? I can’t make a dignified apology when I’m like this.”
It was her turn to blush. “Ooh, sorry.” She put him down and straightened the creases in his clothes.
There was an uncomfortable silence which lasted for about five seconds before she got tired of it. “Would you like a drum roll, Link?”
“Not helping, MarzGurl,” Linkara gritted out before sighing heavily, swallowing his pride and still looking at the floor.
“I’m sorry I killed your son, Insano.”
He patted the boy’s fedora hat awkwardly, hoping that was good enough. “It’s alright. I forgive you.”
Clearly that wasn’t enough for MarzGurl. “Is that it? Hug! Shake hands! Do something! That was pathetic.”
Dr. Insano rolled his eyes and lifted Linkara into a hug, his arms tight around his waist. “You happy now?”
She smiled warmly. “That’s better.”
Quietly, Linkara said “When I grow up, can we never speak of this again?” to him.
Just as quietly, Dr. Insano whispered in his ear “You’ve got yourself a deal,” and put him down again.
MarzGurl didn’t give Linkara much time to think as she grabbed his hand and started to walk upstairs again. “Come on Linkara, its way too late now for three year olds. We’ve got to get you ready for bed.”
Linkara looked hilariously panicked, already blushing furiously. “How?”
Her grip tightened as she expected him to bolt. “Bath time, obviously.”
Tried to bolt he did. “No! No! Never going to happen!”
In between his giggles, Dr. Insano tried to reason with her. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, MarzGurl?”
She looked at him, obviously trying to stifle laughter as well as take Linkara upstairs. “My little brother was three years old once; Mom could never trust him to do anything by himself.”
“But I’m not really three years old, dipshit,” Linkara said sulkily, still trying to get away.
“Right,” she said good-naturedly, “I was going to let you off for a second there but that’s not going to happen now, is it?”
As they almost disappeared from view, Linkara fixed him with sad eyes and a pout. Didn’t work. “Good luck,” he called, waving and going back to his TV.
**
Even though she'd had a much better day than how she was expecting it to go, Nella was still glad that she had no intention on becoming a mother. Trying to open the door while carrying a sleeping girl who had her arms flung tight around her neck, a shopping bag of fresh, healthy food just in case this de-aging thing lasted longer and a giant teddy bear was just too difficult.
Once she had set everything down, she went about trying to wake the Nostalgia Chick up. “Wake up, Lindsay,” she said in a quiet sing-song voice, while patting her firmly on the back. “We’ve got to put you to bed properly.”
“But I am,” the Chick mumbled, still with her eyes closed.
“A bed would be far more comfortable than my shoulder, hon.”
“Fine.” With that, she finally put her down and clicked her aching arm back into her place.
However, of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. “But I’m not that tired and it’s probably too early to go to bed anyway,” the Chick said, hauling herself up on the couch and pulling up cushions, searching for the remote.
“Sweetie, its 9pm. You’ve had a long day and, while I’m no expert, I’m sure four year olds have a much earlier bedtime than this. So get in the fricking bathroom, will ya?”
“But…”
“No buts. Bedtime.”
“You owe me really good sex for this,” the Chick grumbled, clearly annoyed with having to climb down from the couch again.
“We shall see,” she replied. “Want me to help with getting ready for bed?”
The Chick looked stricken and she quickly amended what she had just said. “Want me to just put a chair by the sink so that you can at least see what you’re doing?”
“That’s a bit better,” she responded, still looking pouty and embarrassed.
Ten minutes later, she came back from the bathroom, looking clean and with her hair down.
"All done?"
The Chick bared her teeth in confirmation.
"Good girl."
"I don't wanna go to bed," the girl whined again in frustration.
"Trust me, I really don't want to see you cranky when you get up tomorrow," she replied, grabbing both her hand and the bear and leading her towards the bedroom.
"I'm never cranky!"
"You keep telling yourself that," she giggled.
When they got there, she tucked her and the bear in warmly. “Want a bedtime story?”
The Chick just looked at her beneath her lashes, cuddling her toy closer and already half-asleep. “I swear, I’m going to smack you for this when I grow up.”
She kissed her fondly on the forehead. “Goodnight, sweet princess,” she said cheekily, backing away from the half-hearted arm wave from the now-sleeping child.
Twenty minutes later, she was sprawled out on the couch and guiltily, quietly watching a showing of Pearl Harbor. When the Chick’s door cracked open, she immediately turned it off and hid the remote again.
“What are you doing up?”
The girl rubbed her obviously tired eyes and hauled herself up on top of her. “You know I can’t get to sleep properly without having something to cuddle.”
She ruffled her hair affectionately. “So me winning that bear for you was pointless, then?”
The Chick settled her head on her chest, going up and down as she breathed. “I’d much rather have you,” she mumbled, finally drifting off to sleep, “you know that.”
**
It was 10PM and the Nerd was ready to put this entire experience behind him. He didn’t relish the fact that it was far too late to drive back to his home meaning that he’d have to stay here for the night and the idea that this de-aging crap might just last longer and he’d have to play “Daddy” for even another day made him seriously fucking nervous.
He looked around the house, trying to see where everyone was; Chester looked quite content curled up like a puppy in the kitchen, snoring away. Ask That Guy had fallen asleep on his couch in the study, snuggled up to a cushion and actually looking innocent for what must have been the first time in his life. And the Critic had ended up napping by the stairs.
Melting only slightly, he shook him awake. “Critic? Time to get your motherfucking ass into bed.”
Against his will, the Critic yawned. “’m not tired,” he managed to get out.
He smiled mockingly. “Want to be carried upstairs? I know your fat, stumpy, little legs can’t handle that much walking.”
The Critic childishly (well, he was a child… but that was beside the point, it was still childish) stuck out his tongue and rushed up the stairs impressively fast. He finally disappeared from view and shouted out “Bet you couldn’t run up here as quick as that!” with an obvious smug grin.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes - had their epic rivalry really been reduced to seeing who could run up stairs the fastest? - he rose to the challenge anyway, racing up them as quick as he could. Admittedly, he petered out towards the end but in his defence, they were huge stairs and the Critic was more than twenty years younger than him now. He thought he had done quite well despite that.
Obviously the Critic didn’t think so, as he smirked up at him from his cross-legged position on the floor. “Dude, you’re getting old.”
In response, he lifted the boy up into his arms, ignoring his now-expected indignant squirms and fully intending to put him in his bed so that he could finally fuck out of consciousness for the night. Only problem? This floor was as huge as the first and so he had no idea where the hell the Critic’s bedroom even was.
“Uh…”
There was that smug look again. “Having trouble?”
He conceded the point. "I hate you."
"I hate you more. And it's the last one in the hallway."
When they got there, he nearly dropped the Critic in surprise. The room was motherfucking huge: a big bed, a shit-fucking en-suite bathroom, a flat screen TV by the wall, a dusty PS3 and a fuckload of DVDs.
Instead, he dropped him on his bed and tried to hide his amusement when the Critic bounced like a tiny bouncy ball. "You're a spoilt brat. Goodnight."
He turned to leave and only stopped when the boy shouted "Wait!"
"What?"
"Want to watch something with me?"
He grimaced. He was tired, he was annoyed and the Critic really did need to stop changing his mind on whether he wanted to be bratty, sappy or something else entirely. "What's the matter? Are you missing your parents giving everything you want?"
He then got given what he liked to call the Critic's "lost puppy" look, which was bad enough when they were both adults. It was even worse when he was dealing with what was very close to being a real child. "Please?"
He gave in for the second time that day. "Fine. What do you want to watch?"
The Critic, instead of answering like a normal person, suddenly jumped off his bed and scampered off to the bathroom, shutting the door. "You choose!" he shouted. "I need to do bathroom-y things."
"There's nothing like Street Fighter or Double Dragon here, right?"
"Oh God, no!" he shouted again over the sounds of a running tap. "That kind of crap is all downstairs. These are the good ones."
He looked. There was the expected stuff like Citizen Kane, Fantasia and Batman but something that was looked like it was supposed to be kept hidden at the back caught his eye. It was a particularly old, worn-out-looking version of Follow That Bird. He had to admit, that was pretty damn cute... even though it was obvious that he was going to have to tease the Critic about this later.
He grabbed it and looked around, seeing if there were any other examples of extreme pussydom. And apparently luck was on his side, as he managed to catch sight of a familiar, yellow-looking thing peeking out from under the mattress. "Big Bird!" the five year old inside of him screamed, as he grabbed its neck and it popped out easily.
Just then, the Critic came out of the bathroom. When he saw what the Nerd had in his hands, his eyes widened in annoyance. "Where did you get those?"
He suppressed a giggle. "You're such a wuss."
The Critic folded his arms, pouting. "Put those back."
He rolled his eyes and put the tape in the video slot anyway. "Dude, if you were trying to keep this stuff a secret, then squeeing about it like a fangirl wasn't the best way to go."
The boy finally grinned good-naturedly. “Go on then, you’ve worn me down,” he said, grabbing the toy possessively out of the Nerd’s hands and hauling himself onto the end of the bed.
They were both fast asleep before Miss. Finch appeared.
**
Dr. Insano was busy watching Red Dwarf when MarzGurl finally resurfaced. Her hair was messy, her jumpsuit was almost soaked through, she had a traumatized look in her eyes and, in all honesty, all he wanted to do right now was to get her on the couch.
“I told you giving him a bath was a bad idea”, he smirked, turning off the TV.
She shrugged, pulling him up by the labels of his white lab coat. “He’s a three year old. I didn’t expect anything less.”
They were so fucking close to making out. “Do you want to have dinner with me?” She raised a surprised eyebrow and his groin screamed in fury. “And, um, watch some filthy anime afterwards?” “That’s better,” his nether regions seemed to be telling him.
She laughed and pushed him away slightly. “Only if you read him a bedtime story. He said he won’t go to sleep until you do so get a move on.” Ignoring his protests, she led him to the bedroom and then went off to get a change of clothes. “Have fun, don’t get too dirty.”
He composed himself, thinking how even more pussified he had become, and went inside. Linkara was tiny in contrast to the huge bed (and he really wasn’t up for thinking about what they had actually done in this room many a time at the moment) and he was sitting up eagerly.
“Are you going to read me a story or not?”
He grinned and sat down on the bed beside him. “The best story ever.”
"Once upon a time, there lived a young comic book nerd called Linkara. Now, unlike the comic-relief nerds you see on TV, he was cute, charming and very entertaining. But the only problem was that he also grew very lonely and bitchy - reviewing bad comics week after week will do that to you - and so he made a powerful enemy: Dr. Insano, a dashing, evil scientist who just wanted to take over the world…”
The little boy smiled knowingly. “Of course.”
“Exactly. And so they fought for a while. But one day, they ended up making out in the ruins of Chicago. They tried to ignore this attraction, they were both of the manly persuasion and they both had the hots for a beautiful blue-haired lady. However, she liked them both back and everyone just thought “Might as well just have a threesome, then.” As it turned out, that proved to be a hell of a lot more fun…”
He stopped, glancing over and finding out that Linkara had already fallen asleep, his fedora hat just about covering his eyes. He took it off and smoothed the kid’s hair out.
“And they all lived happily ever after.”
He turned, aiming to creep out of the room and never let MarzGurl know how sappy he had just got. But, as ever, luck wasn’t on his side. She was standing just outside the door, waiting and smirking.
“That was so adorable.”
“Shut up.”
She took his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. “I bet you can’t keep it up by cooking me something that won’t poison me for once.”
**
The Nostalgia Critic was the first to wake up as himself. He saw the sleeping Nerd, the Big Bird doll that would have to go back under the bed as soon as possible as well the black and white, flickering video screen making the room glow and thought about sneaking away quietly to protect both of their reputations. Instead he stroked Beardy III fondly - glad to have it back - and went back to sleep, his head on the Nerd's lap and the other man's arm slung over his chest. He could deal with the fall-out and feel like a pussy later. He didn't really care all that much right now.
**
The Nostalgia Chick awoke curled up on top of Nella. She stretched out, pleased to be her normal self again and that everything was how it should be. Seeing as how the couch really didn’t fit two, grown, sleeping women, she thought about waking her friend up and moving to the bedroom. But she thought better of it so she wriggled in between the backseat and Nella, kissed her goodnight and cuddled in closer, definitely not ready to stop acting like a little girl just yet.
**
Linkara was the last to wake up as his usual age. Feeling more than a little lonely (he never liked sleeping by himself); he put his hat back on and went to see what MarzGurl and Dr. Insano were doing. He just followed the sounds of Dr. Insano's loud snoring and found them curled up on the couch, the lights were dimmed, half eaten pasta had been left on the table and the TV was paused in the middle of going up an anime girl's skirt. How charming.
He prodded MarzGurl and she awoke with a groan. When she saw him, she looked up him up and down with a smile. “Much more appealing.”
He responded by tugging one of her now-pink braids playfully. “I thought you had taste”, he said, glancing over at the sleeping form of Dr. Insano, snoring with his mouth open. It was then that he noticed the pathetic, tiny, pink glop on one of the shelves. Feeling a brand new wave of guilt, he turned to her again.
“Think I should wake him up and apologize again?”
She sighed. “I wouldn’t.”
“I’ve got to do something, though.”
“Bring it back to life and let him fulfill his dream of having a zombie in the house?”
He giggled softly. “That would be fun… but no, never going to happen.”
“Make him a new one and surprise him in the morning?” she said, obviously half-joking.
Yes! “MarzGurl, I love you.”
“Dude, I was just kidding. Morning is only a few hours away, you won't have time.”
He ignored her, dragging her with him to the experiment area. He was going to need help for this.
She leaned back in her seat. "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."
The girl undid her seatbelt, preparing to get out. "Of course it was. Now would you let me out?"
"Dude, what if this all goes wrong?"
Her friend rolled her eyes. "Would you just relax and act normal for once in your life?"
She looked over at all the parents and their kids walking around the park. Some were happily holding hands and eating ice cream like they were in a commercial, a few were trying to deal with kicking and screaming brats and a couple of parents were shouting at each other while their children got ignored or made their own fun. In all honesty, they would fit right in.
"We'll be fine."
"Was there any ever doubt? Now let me out, woman."
**
Linkara wasn’t feeling too much like himself. The sugar high was starting to wear off, he had been a child for far too long and Dr. Insano wasn’t as nearly as much fun when he was five foot above him. And to top it off, that high-pitched mumbling sound that was coming from one of the bottom shelves was starting to annoy him beyond all rational belief.
He looked around and found that Dr. Insano was nowhere to seen. Good. He grabbed the pink ball, dropped it to the floor and squashed it into a dead, gloopy mess underneath his boot. He planned on regretting this later but right now, he was just glad that his enemy didn’t have anyone but him.
**
“You gave him a fucking cattle prod?!”
The Critic shrugged. “It was for his birthday.”
He asked again. “You gave him a fucking cattle prod? What were you thinking?”
The boy rolled his eyes. “Uh, hi? Coward here? I give him things and then run the fuck away.” But unheard by Ask That Guy, there was a tiny note of pleading in there, trying to get him to understand.
He slumped down in the armchair, rubbing his temples. “That’s like giving Hitler a country because he asked nicely.”
“Could you not compare me to Hitler?” Ask That Guy… asked, playfully.
The Critic snorted. “Dude, you are far worse than Hitler.”
“That’s very true. But it still hurt my feelings,” Ask That Guy sniffed, a wicked gleam in his eye.
“Ooh, remember last Christmas, when you got really drunk and tried to find new ways to kill me?” the Critic asked, talking more like it was something inconvenient rather than something traumatizing.
“Best Christmas ever,” Ask That Guy reminisced, with a creepily dreamy smile on his face.
“For you, maybe,” the Critic pouted.
“Says the guy who wore a tiny, red miniskirt and hooker heels for some unknown reason.”
While his brain was short-circuiting at that image, he managed to hear the Critic say “Didn’t mean I was having fun while you were torturing me, dumbass.”
“Obviously you enjoyed it. Admit it; you’re a crazy little masochist.”
"I don't think you can win this one, Critic," he piped up from his armchair at the same time, recovering and enjoying the show.
"Shut up."
"You know you could probably still die by bleeding out completely, right?" Ask That Guy smirked.
The Critic clapped sarcastically. "You should get an award for being this morbid."
The other boy bowed in thanks. "I do try. Now both of you piss off, I’ve got stupid questions to answer.” With that, he walked into the study, straightening his bathrobe.
The Nerd watched him go, used to things by now. "How the hell did you two end up sleeping together anyway?"
"I, uh, was just bored one day and I ended up in his lap," the Critic replied, suddenly blushing an amusingly dark shade of red.
He snorted, ignoring the logical part of his brain that told him it was very wrong to talk about sex with a six year old. "Slut."
The child grinned. "You're the only one who makes that sound like a compliment."
“Whatever. Want me to do dinner?”
The Critic raised his eyebrow in disbelief. “You can cook?”
“Obviously. Can’t you?”
“Why the fuck do you think I live off cereal and pizza?”
**
Dr. Insano hadn’t felt this shitty in a long time. He had found a smug-looking Linkara in the living room about an hour ago. If that hadn’t sucked enough, the pink stain on the carpet and on Linkara’s shoe was what broke him completely.
He didn’t even remember what was said. All that stuck out was white hot rage, lots of yelling and Linkara eventually running off somewhere in tears. None of which had actually made him happy. So he scraped what was left of his son and placed him delicately on the very top shelf. It was the least he could do, after all.
But when he had actually found Linkara hiding under the bed, the boy was in no mood to chat.
“Hey, Linkara.”
“…”
“Would you like to come out from under the bed?”
“…”
“Do you want to go and get some ice cream? I know how much you love chocolate and the shops are probably still open.”
“…”
“I’m really sorry for yelling at you.”
“…”
“Do you think you could tell me why you destroyed my son?” That probably wasn’t the most tactful way to put it but, as he said before, he really wasn’t good with kids.
“…”
“Or at the very least, talk to me?”
“Don’t feel like it,” he said, sullenly.
“Do you want me to leave you alone?”
Judging by the silence, he took the response to be a big, fat, resounding yes.
But he wasn’t about to give up now, so he phoned up MarzGurl and hoped like fuck that she would be able to sort things out. When she picked up, he immediately blurted out “For the love of God, help me.”
“Huh? Dr. Insano?”
It came out in a long string of words which he hoped she would somehow manage to understand. “Linkara’s a kid now, I thought he was going to be easy so I let him have candy and then he was on a sugar high and he was destroying everything and I kind of lost it and screamed at him and now he hates me and we both need our favourite woman to sort things out so can you come over and if you say no I’ll burn your house down?”
That obviously didn’t work, judging by her confused reaction. “How the fuck am I supposed to understand any of that? Slow down and start from the beginning.”
He took a deep breath. “Alright. Linkara’s a three year old again.”
There was a pause as she processed this. “Oh-kay. What did you do?”
He bashed the phone against the table in frustration. “I had nothing to do with this!”
“Okay, okay. Tell me what happened next?”
“Well, he was being really quiet and reading comics like a good boy so I let him have candy…”
“And that’s the stupidest thing you could possibly do. Next?”
“He obviously went crazy and he destroyed nearly everything, including my new son.”
She paused, taking this in. “I’m sorry. But I’m guessing you really didn’t take that very well, right?”
“I really lost it and screamed at him. I don’t even remember what I said.”
There was silence on her end. That really wasn’t helping his nervousness. “MarzGurl? Please say something?”
“Did you at least try and talk to him afterwards?”
“I tried but I don’t know how and now he hates me and he won’t talk to me and I don’t even have my son anymore.” Holy shit, was he about to cry?
She took pity on him. “Sweetie, just calm down, okay? Would you like me to come over?”
He sniveled, willing to wallow in his patheticness. “Please?”
“I’ll be right down. By the way, good God, you men suck. I never get these problems with Little Miss Gamer.”
That cheered him up slightly. “Yes, please mention your girlfriend as often as possible. That makes me happy.”
“Oh, darling, I and all bisexual women exist to make you happy, right?” she said sarcastically. But fondly, so it was alright.
**
Nella was exhausted already. It was a hot, humid day in LA and seeing as how the Chick was far too young to going to be on any rollercoasters, there wasn’t much air to be had. But the massive ferris wheel was fun, the tea-cup ride induced nostalgic feelings for her childhood, the sparkly unicorns on the merry-go-round were actually pretty cute and, luckily for her sanity but not her wallet, the Chick was quite happy - but not too happy, thank God - to spend her time eating pink candyfloss.
At the moment, they were sitting on one of the benches in the playground. She was too busy feeling the after-effects of too many sweets to notice at first but eventually she caught eye of three boys hanging around the swings, looking about five or six and all with spiky hair, who were looking at them with interest.
"I think they like you," she said to the Chick with a smile.
"Would they get scared of me if I told them I was really twenty-four?" Knowing the Chick and the particularly evil glint she had in her eye, she'd bet money that she'd be more than happy to.
"Why don't you go play with them? They look non-annoying enough and I'll still be here, recovering from all that candy floss you made me buy."
The girl wrinkled her nose in disgust, teasingly. "Why would I do that? I'm a lady with self-respect."
She snorted, being sure to keep her voice low so nobody would hear her discussing sex with a four year old. "Lindsay, honey, getting a man pregnant doesn't exactly scream self-respect."
The Chick bit her lip, deep in thought. "Does the Critic really count as a guy, though?"
She giggled, twirling her finger in her girlfriend's hair. "Only technically."
"So it doesn’t count," she smirked in response. "And besides, being a fairy's daddy is something most women can't accomplish in this day and age."
"Exactly," she said sarcastically. "You should be proud of yourself. Just like you should be proud of yourself for having a foursome with Spoony, Goggles and Benzaie.”
The Chick winced, looking down at the tarmac uncomfortably. “In my defence, I had no idea what I was doing that night.”
She understood, putting her arm around the girl and cuddling her closer. “I know, sweetie, I know.”
The Chick perked up five seconds later, changing the subject completely. “Ooh! You know what else I could tell them? I could tell them that I have robot limbs and I could crush their necks with a squeeze of my hand.” She made a move to rush over there but Nella stopped her before she could.
“While I dislike kids as much as you do, can we not traumatize them for life?”
There was a pout. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t feel like having mothers coming over to me and calling me horrible at the moment.”
The Chick sat back on the bench, looking sulky and folding her arms. “You’re no fun.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to look for something else they could do and finding one of those stalls where you could shoot targets and win prizes.
She grabbed the Chick’s hand. “Come on, I’ll make it up to you.”
When they got there, the teenager running it smirked at them. “Are you sure you can do this, Miss? It’s a hard game.”
“Whatever. How much is it? How do I play? And how do I get one of those big toys for my daughter?”
The guy looked at both of them and raised an eyebrow silently.
“I had her at a young age, okay? Now gimme the details.”
He rattled them off, bored and having had a long day. “Three dollars to play, you have to shoot the moving ducks in under three minutes and hitting six will get you one of the big prizes.”
Before she could give him the money, the Chick tugged at her sleeve.
“What is it?” she asked, leaning down to her level.
“Sure you can do this? I’ve never seen you pick up a gun in your life.”
She patted her on the shoulder confidently. “Just wait.”
Her confidence paid off. She cocked the gun out of habit and shot seven of the stupidly-grinning duckies in the allotted time. She put the gun back and grinned when she saw the teenager looking impressed and the Chick looking pleasantly shocked.
“How the hell did you learn to shoot so well?” the Chick asked in a sotto voice.
“It is just a game honey, it’s not like it’s a real gun,” she responded modestly.
The kid rolled her eyes. “Tell me honestly.”
“When I was little, my Dad took me out to watch me and his friends hunt. Happy?”
The Chick pulled her down even more, until her lips were right next to her ear. “Keep this between you and me… but that was actually pretty hot.”
Before she had a chance to respond, the guy running the stall interrupted her. “Miss?”
“Mmm?”
“What prize would you like?”
She honestly had no idea what to choose. The big toys all looked so… big. “Uh, Lindsay? It’s your choice.”
The Chick didn’t take too long to decide as she pointed to a monstrously huge, presumably very cuddly, snow-white polar bear hanging at the very end. “That one, please.”
The guy smiled, unhooked the bear and gave it to her. “There you go, sweetheart.”
Nella had to stifle a giggle; she could only just barely see her friend’s pigtails over the toy. “Want me to carry it, Linds?”
“That would be lovely,” the Chick muttered, deadpan.
**
MarzGurl really didn’t know what to expect but she really wasn’t expecting a guy in goggles to hug her fiercely and slightly desperately as soon as he had opened the door. When it had gone on long enough, she patted him on the back awkwardly. “Um, honey? I heard that breathing was a good thing.”
He let her go, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“Still no change?”
He looked down at his shoes. “No.”
She sighed. “And I guess you want me to play ‘mother’?”
He smiled slightly. “Isn’t that what you’re here for?”
She hit him hard on the shoulder. “Shut it. And where is he?”
“In the bedroom, under the bed. And don’t be so rough, woman.”
She started to set off to where Linkara apparently was, smirking at him. “You’ve never said that before.”
**
Linkara had now, for some unknown reason, got tired of being underneath the bed and decided that curling up in the bathtub would be far more comfortable. MarzGurl knelt down beside it, trying to think of what would be the best thing to say. She wasn’t exactly the best with kids, no matter what thoughts Dr. Insano might have concocted in his weird little mind.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” At least he was talking to her.
“You’re a cute kid.” He was a cute adult as well, she mused shallowly.
“I’m getting bored of it.”
“And why would you?”
“Because I’m somewhere in between a horrible child and an adult.”
She sat him up and adjusted his hat. “Explain?”
“I killed Dr. Insano’s son.”
She suddenly had a great interest in the taps. “I know.”
“I was jealous of it, even before.”
“Dude, it’s an alive, pink ball. There’s nothing to be jealous of.”
He lay back down again, embarrassed. “I know that. I AM A MAN…, or boy, whatever, I don’t know. The point is that we’re usually idiots.”
She laughed. “You have a very good point. So do you want to come down with me and apologize?”
“Nah. I’ll just stay here until I grow up again, whenever that is.” But she wasn’t about to let him do that, she picked him by his waist and took him in her arms, ignoring his protests as she carried him down the stairs.
**
Dr. Insano had seen a lot of strange things in his life; two Kung Fu Jesus Monster-y thingies destroying a city, for example, being just one of them. But, for some reason, MarzGurl coming down the stairs with a squirming child version of Linkara was probably one of the most surreal.
“Dr. Insano? Linkara has something he’d like to say to you.”
“This is humiliating,” Linkara whined, pouting.
“MarzGurl, he doesn’t have to,” he said at the same time, starting to blush. Men really weren’t supposed to have these kinds of moments, no matter how “close” they were.
One look of death shut them both up. “You called me to help out, right? This is me helping. Deal with it and man up, both of you.”
Linkara sighed. “Can you at least put me down? I can’t make a dignified apology when I’m like this.”
It was her turn to blush. “Ooh, sorry.” She put him down and straightened the creases in his clothes.
There was an uncomfortable silence which lasted for about five seconds before she got tired of it. “Would you like a drum roll, Link?”
“Not helping, MarzGurl,” Linkara gritted out before sighing heavily, swallowing his pride and still looking at the floor.
“I’m sorry I killed your son, Insano.”
He patted the boy’s fedora hat awkwardly, hoping that was good enough. “It’s alright. I forgive you.”
Clearly that wasn’t enough for MarzGurl. “Is that it? Hug! Shake hands! Do something! That was pathetic.”
Dr. Insano rolled his eyes and lifted Linkara into a hug, his arms tight around his waist. “You happy now?”
She smiled warmly. “That’s better.”
Quietly, Linkara said “When I grow up, can we never speak of this again?” to him.
Just as quietly, Dr. Insano whispered in his ear “You’ve got yourself a deal,” and put him down again.
MarzGurl didn’t give Linkara much time to think as she grabbed his hand and started to walk upstairs again. “Come on Linkara, its way too late now for three year olds. We’ve got to get you ready for bed.”
Linkara looked hilariously panicked, already blushing furiously. “How?”
Her grip tightened as she expected him to bolt. “Bath time, obviously.”
Tried to bolt he did. “No! No! Never going to happen!”
In between his giggles, Dr. Insano tried to reason with her. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, MarzGurl?”
She looked at him, obviously trying to stifle laughter as well as take Linkara upstairs. “My little brother was three years old once; Mom could never trust him to do anything by himself.”
“But I’m not really three years old, dipshit,” Linkara said sulkily, still trying to get away.
“Right,” she said good-naturedly, “I was going to let you off for a second there but that’s not going to happen now, is it?”
As they almost disappeared from view, Linkara fixed him with sad eyes and a pout. Didn’t work. “Good luck,” he called, waving and going back to his TV.
**
Even though she'd had a much better day than how she was expecting it to go, Nella was still glad that she had no intention on becoming a mother. Trying to open the door while carrying a sleeping girl who had her arms flung tight around her neck, a shopping bag of fresh, healthy food just in case this de-aging thing lasted longer and a giant teddy bear was just too difficult.
Once she had set everything down, she went about trying to wake the Nostalgia Chick up. “Wake up, Lindsay,” she said in a quiet sing-song voice, while patting her firmly on the back. “We’ve got to put you to bed properly.”
“But I am,” the Chick mumbled, still with her eyes closed.
“A bed would be far more comfortable than my shoulder, hon.”
“Fine.” With that, she finally put her down and clicked her aching arm back into her place.
However, of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. “But I’m not that tired and it’s probably too early to go to bed anyway,” the Chick said, hauling herself up on the couch and pulling up cushions, searching for the remote.
“Sweetie, its 9pm. You’ve had a long day and, while I’m no expert, I’m sure four year olds have a much earlier bedtime than this. So get in the fricking bathroom, will ya?”
“But…”
“No buts. Bedtime.”
“You owe me really good sex for this,” the Chick grumbled, clearly annoyed with having to climb down from the couch again.
“We shall see,” she replied. “Want me to help with getting ready for bed?”
The Chick looked stricken and she quickly amended what she had just said. “Want me to just put a chair by the sink so that you can at least see what you’re doing?”
“That’s a bit better,” she responded, still looking pouty and embarrassed.
Ten minutes later, she came back from the bathroom, looking clean and with her hair down.
"All done?"
The Chick bared her teeth in confirmation.
"Good girl."
"I don't wanna go to bed," the girl whined again in frustration.
"Trust me, I really don't want to see you cranky when you get up tomorrow," she replied, grabbing both her hand and the bear and leading her towards the bedroom.
"I'm never cranky!"
"You keep telling yourself that," she giggled.
When they got there, she tucked her and the bear in warmly. “Want a bedtime story?”
The Chick just looked at her beneath her lashes, cuddling her toy closer and already half-asleep. “I swear, I’m going to smack you for this when I grow up.”
She kissed her fondly on the forehead. “Goodnight, sweet princess,” she said cheekily, backing away from the half-hearted arm wave from the now-sleeping child.
Twenty minutes later, she was sprawled out on the couch and guiltily, quietly watching a showing of Pearl Harbor. When the Chick’s door cracked open, she immediately turned it off and hid the remote again.
“What are you doing up?”
The girl rubbed her obviously tired eyes and hauled herself up on top of her. “You know I can’t get to sleep properly without having something to cuddle.”
She ruffled her hair affectionately. “So me winning that bear for you was pointless, then?”
The Chick settled her head on her chest, going up and down as she breathed. “I’d much rather have you,” she mumbled, finally drifting off to sleep, “you know that.”
**
It was 10PM and the Nerd was ready to put this entire experience behind him. He didn’t relish the fact that it was far too late to drive back to his home meaning that he’d have to stay here for the night and the idea that this de-aging crap might just last longer and he’d have to play “Daddy” for even another day made him seriously fucking nervous.
He looked around the house, trying to see where everyone was; Chester looked quite content curled up like a puppy in the kitchen, snoring away. Ask That Guy had fallen asleep on his couch in the study, snuggled up to a cushion and actually looking innocent for what must have been the first time in his life. And the Critic had ended up napping by the stairs.
Melting only slightly, he shook him awake. “Critic? Time to get your motherfucking ass into bed.”
Against his will, the Critic yawned. “’m not tired,” he managed to get out.
He smiled mockingly. “Want to be carried upstairs? I know your fat, stumpy, little legs can’t handle that much walking.”
The Critic childishly (well, he was a child… but that was beside the point, it was still childish) stuck out his tongue and rushed up the stairs impressively fast. He finally disappeared from view and shouted out “Bet you couldn’t run up here as quick as that!” with an obvious smug grin.
Resisting the urge to roll his eyes - had their epic rivalry really been reduced to seeing who could run up stairs the fastest? - he rose to the challenge anyway, racing up them as quick as he could. Admittedly, he petered out towards the end but in his defence, they were huge stairs and the Critic was more than twenty years younger than him now. He thought he had done quite well despite that.
Obviously the Critic didn’t think so, as he smirked up at him from his cross-legged position on the floor. “Dude, you’re getting old.”
In response, he lifted the boy up into his arms, ignoring his now-expected indignant squirms and fully intending to put him in his bed so that he could finally fuck out of consciousness for the night. Only problem? This floor was as huge as the first and so he had no idea where the hell the Critic’s bedroom even was.
“Uh…”
There was that smug look again. “Having trouble?”
He conceded the point. "I hate you."
"I hate you more. And it's the last one in the hallway."
When they got there, he nearly dropped the Critic in surprise. The room was motherfucking huge: a big bed, a shit-fucking en-suite bathroom, a flat screen TV by the wall, a dusty PS3 and a fuckload of DVDs.
Instead, he dropped him on his bed and tried to hide his amusement when the Critic bounced like a tiny bouncy ball. "You're a spoilt brat. Goodnight."
He turned to leave and only stopped when the boy shouted "Wait!"
"What?"
"Want to watch something with me?"
He grimaced. He was tired, he was annoyed and the Critic really did need to stop changing his mind on whether he wanted to be bratty, sappy or something else entirely. "What's the matter? Are you missing your parents giving everything you want?"
He then got given what he liked to call the Critic's "lost puppy" look, which was bad enough when they were both adults. It was even worse when he was dealing with what was very close to being a real child. "Please?"
He gave in for the second time that day. "Fine. What do you want to watch?"
The Critic, instead of answering like a normal person, suddenly jumped off his bed and scampered off to the bathroom, shutting the door. "You choose!" he shouted. "I need to do bathroom-y things."
"There's nothing like Street Fighter or Double Dragon here, right?"
"Oh God, no!" he shouted again over the sounds of a running tap. "That kind of crap is all downstairs. These are the good ones."
He looked. There was the expected stuff like Citizen Kane, Fantasia and Batman but something that was looked like it was supposed to be kept hidden at the back caught his eye. It was a particularly old, worn-out-looking version of Follow That Bird. He had to admit, that was pretty damn cute... even though it was obvious that he was going to have to tease the Critic about this later.
He grabbed it and looked around, seeing if there were any other examples of extreme pussydom. And apparently luck was on his side, as he managed to catch sight of a familiar, yellow-looking thing peeking out from under the mattress. "Big Bird!" the five year old inside of him screamed, as he grabbed its neck and it popped out easily.
Just then, the Critic came out of the bathroom. When he saw what the Nerd had in his hands, his eyes widened in annoyance. "Where did you get those?"
He suppressed a giggle. "You're such a wuss."
The Critic folded his arms, pouting. "Put those back."
He rolled his eyes and put the tape in the video slot anyway. "Dude, if you were trying to keep this stuff a secret, then squeeing about it like a fangirl wasn't the best way to go."
The boy finally grinned good-naturedly. “Go on then, you’ve worn me down,” he said, grabbing the toy possessively out of the Nerd’s hands and hauling himself onto the end of the bed.
They were both fast asleep before Miss. Finch appeared.
**
Dr. Insano was busy watching Red Dwarf when MarzGurl finally resurfaced. Her hair was messy, her jumpsuit was almost soaked through, she had a traumatized look in her eyes and, in all honesty, all he wanted to do right now was to get her on the couch.
“I told you giving him a bath was a bad idea”, he smirked, turning off the TV.
She shrugged, pulling him up by the labels of his white lab coat. “He’s a three year old. I didn’t expect anything less.”
They were so fucking close to making out. “Do you want to have dinner with me?” She raised a surprised eyebrow and his groin screamed in fury. “And, um, watch some filthy anime afterwards?” “That’s better,” his nether regions seemed to be telling him.
She laughed and pushed him away slightly. “Only if you read him a bedtime story. He said he won’t go to sleep until you do so get a move on.” Ignoring his protests, she led him to the bedroom and then went off to get a change of clothes. “Have fun, don’t get too dirty.”
He composed himself, thinking how even more pussified he had become, and went inside. Linkara was tiny in contrast to the huge bed (and he really wasn’t up for thinking about what they had actually done in this room many a time at the moment) and he was sitting up eagerly.
“Are you going to read me a story or not?”
He grinned and sat down on the bed beside him. “The best story ever.”
"Once upon a time, there lived a young comic book nerd called Linkara. Now, unlike the comic-relief nerds you see on TV, he was cute, charming and very entertaining. But the only problem was that he also grew very lonely and bitchy - reviewing bad comics week after week will do that to you - and so he made a powerful enemy: Dr. Insano, a dashing, evil scientist who just wanted to take over the world…”
The little boy smiled knowingly. “Of course.”
“Exactly. And so they fought for a while. But one day, they ended up making out in the ruins of Chicago. They tried to ignore this attraction, they were both of the manly persuasion and they both had the hots for a beautiful blue-haired lady. However, she liked them both back and everyone just thought “Might as well just have a threesome, then.” As it turned out, that proved to be a hell of a lot more fun…”
He stopped, glancing over and finding out that Linkara had already fallen asleep, his fedora hat just about covering his eyes. He took it off and smoothed the kid’s hair out.
“And they all lived happily ever after.”
He turned, aiming to creep out of the room and never let MarzGurl know how sappy he had just got. But, as ever, luck wasn’t on his side. She was standing just outside the door, waiting and smirking.
“That was so adorable.”
“Shut up.”
She took his hand and dragged him to the kitchen. “I bet you can’t keep it up by cooking me something that won’t poison me for once.”
**
The Nostalgia Critic was the first to wake up as himself. He saw the sleeping Nerd, the Big Bird doll that would have to go back under the bed as soon as possible as well the black and white, flickering video screen making the room glow and thought about sneaking away quietly to protect both of their reputations. Instead he stroked Beardy III fondly - glad to have it back - and went back to sleep, his head on the Nerd's lap and the other man's arm slung over his chest. He could deal with the fall-out and feel like a pussy later. He didn't really care all that much right now.
**
The Nostalgia Chick awoke curled up on top of Nella. She stretched out, pleased to be her normal self again and that everything was how it should be. Seeing as how the couch really didn’t fit two, grown, sleeping women, she thought about waking her friend up and moving to the bedroom. But she thought better of it so she wriggled in between the backseat and Nella, kissed her goodnight and cuddled in closer, definitely not ready to stop acting like a little girl just yet.
**
Linkara was the last to wake up as his usual age. Feeling more than a little lonely (he never liked sleeping by himself); he put his hat back on and went to see what MarzGurl and Dr. Insano were doing. He just followed the sounds of Dr. Insano's loud snoring and found them curled up on the couch, the lights were dimmed, half eaten pasta had been left on the table and the TV was paused in the middle of going up an anime girl's skirt. How charming.
He prodded MarzGurl and she awoke with a groan. When she saw him, she looked up him up and down with a smile. “Much more appealing.”
He responded by tugging one of her now-pink braids playfully. “I thought you had taste”, he said, glancing over at the sleeping form of Dr. Insano, snoring with his mouth open. It was then that he noticed the pathetic, tiny, pink glop on one of the shelves. Feeling a brand new wave of guilt, he turned to her again.
“Think I should wake him up and apologize again?”
She sighed. “I wouldn’t.”
“I’ve got to do something, though.”
“Bring it back to life and let him fulfill his dream of having a zombie in the house?”
He giggled softly. “That would be fun… but no, never going to happen.”
“Make him a new one and surprise him in the morning?” she said, obviously half-joking.
Yes! “MarzGurl, I love you.”
“Dude, I was just kidding. Morning is only a few hours away, you won't have time.”
He ignored her, dragging her with him to the experiment area. He was going to need help for this.