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thewildsophia · 23 days

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.For When I Don't Rember You, My Beloved. WordGirl//Dr. Two-Brains

Dr. Two-Brains/Steven Boxleitner x Reader

Word Count: 4130

"Read More" placed due to length

The henchmen Charlie and “Meatloaf” were the first to aid Dr. Two Brains in the cheese-centric havoc he rained over Fair City. Dr. Two Brains was a strange man, to say the least, but he was weird in an endearing way…ehh, kinda. But you must have thought so too since you were soon to join him, being recruited just a few days after them.

It was strange really. One day you didn’t exist to them and the next Dr. Two Brains was strolling you into the lair stating that you would be his first in command and that they should report to you. Oh well, there's not much they can do otherwise.

At least you were nice enough. You didn’t yell and berate them like the doctor would — quite the opposite. You were kind and reasonable to them, never placing unattainable expectations on them. You were slow to anger, but they may catch you in a foul mood on a particularly awful day. Overall, you were very normal, very sane, and nothing like their boss which confused them so much about your sudden employment. Yet oddly enough you never told them your name, opting to have them address you as “Commander.” They’re not even sure they’ve heard Dr. Two Brains call you by your name either.

They figured the doctor valued you more than the actual henchmen since you were also a doctor yourself. You didn’t speak much about that fact, but the lab coat and PPE you always wore or at least had on hand clued them into the fact that you were probably an associate of his before his accident. When they asked you about what kind of doctor you were, you were very short in your response, only telling them you specialized in cellular biology and worked at the local hospital at one point.

They watched how you interacted with their boss and were shocked at your boldness towards him. You weren’t shy about voicing your concerns with his plans much to the boss’s dismay, frustrating him even more and forcing him to revise his plan twice, thrice, however many times until you were satisfied. Yet despite his irritation with your feedback, he always acted on what you said. In addition, you were the only one he let aid him in constructing his machinery. Your involvement would range from handing him tools to constructing parts of a larger machine depending on how complicated the schematic the doctor had drawn up, often time being tweaked by you before he began construction. You’d even talk to the boss about his health, pushing him to stay active even in small ways and to try and incorporate small items into his diet that weren’t just cheese. You’d even cook for the man!

To the henchmen, you seemed more like a friend to their boss rather than a worker, and they supposed that’s why you were his “First Commander” instead of another henchman.

Yet Meatloaf couldn’t help but notice the longing looks you would shoot the doctor, an unreadable expression on your face. He listened to how you spoke firmly but gently to the boss, never once raising your voice no matter how belligerent and unreasonable he would become. Charlie saw the lingering touches you would brush against the doctor’s skin, not wanting to pull away yourself yet not having the heart to stand when the boss would inevitably push you away from him. He watched as you would care for him in small ways like organizing his tools or draping a blanket over him when he would pass out on the couch. They both figured you had feelings for their boss as strange as the man was. That would explain why you so willingly allowed yourself to be hired by their insane boss and why you did things that most certainly weren’t part of your job description.

Oh, how close yet so far they were from the truth with this idea in their mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You practically lived in the lair with Dr. Two Brains, so it was no surprise that you were there before Charlie or Meatloaf. What was surprising was that you were nowhere to be found when the two henchmen came in that morning. You’d usually be busying yourself with some minute task in the main part of the lair, yet today you were not there.

Just a few minutes earlier, right before the two henchmen had arrived, you had been called over by Dr. Two Brains to help in his “office,” which was just a small back room that was mostly stable and had a partially functioning door on it. He said he wanted your input on his schematic for a ray that would turn gold into cheese. You didn’t go to him immediately, opting to finish what you were doing in the front of the lair before helping him. Your concentration drifted from that task when you heard the crashing of books and the scattering of papers coming from his office.

You’re quick to sprint over to his office, calling out to him in worry all the way there.

“Doc?” You asked, rounding the corner of the hall, “You alright?”

You peeked your head into his room to see it in complete disarray. Papers fluttered to the ground and the few reference books you had managed to steal get for him were scattered about without care. Your eyes were drawn to Two Brains in the corner, back against the wall, and head in his hands, his mouse brain pulsing.

He groaned as he tried to soothe his aching head, yet the pain would not let up. You slowly made your way over to him, tiptoeing over the scattered papers and open books.

“I’m here, Doc,” You whispered, kneeling in front of him and placing a hand on his knee. If he knew you were there, he didn’t acknowledge you. His hands gripped his head harder with strands of his white hair sticking to the rubber of his gloves and slipping between his fingers. He muttered something, but you couldn’t understand him.

You scooted even closer and placed your hands on his own before gently pulling his fingers out of his hair, though they would not leave his head. You rubbed his hands through his gloves and softly spoke to him,

“I’m right here for you, Doctor. Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll help you.”

Dr. Two Brains’ muttering stopped and his movements stilled. His hands gently gripped your own and slowly he let you pull his hands away from his face where you placed them on his knees.

His eyes were irritated and red-rimmed, much more than usual, and tears were caught in his whiskers on their way down his lithe face. His cheeks were flush, most likely from crying so hard and unable to breathe properly. He licked his lips and inhaled a shuddering breath before trying to speak again. He was unable to through his raw throat.

“It’s okay,” You whispered, rubbing your fingers comfortingly on his hands, “Just breathe.”

His dark eyes looked into your own E/C ones and for a moment you saw recognition in them.

“Y/N?” Dr. Two Brains questioned, and it felt as if the breath was forced from your lungs.

Eyes blown wide you’re silent for a moment, unable to force even a breath from your body. Your hands grip him harder and you feel your eyes burn from unseen tears and your face warm. Your bottom lip trembled but you forced your jaw to unclench and answered unsure,

“Steven?” And he hummed in response.

Dr. Two Brains, Steven, looked around the room and sniffed before looking back at you.

“What’s…going on? Where are we?” Steven asked, but you were still unable to say anything in response. In an instance, you moved his knees aside and fell into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He groaned from the hard impact, but quickly wrapped his own arms around you and rested his chin on your head with a chuckle.

“What’s wrong, Darling? Why are…” Steven’s question trails off as he wipes the tears off his cheek, “We both crying?”

You wanted to answer him, but you couldn’t force a single word from your mouth, opting to press your face harder into his chest and hug him tighter. You breathed in his scent, laced with some cheddar cheese but still him, before pulling away to look at him and God…

How long has it been since he’s looked at you like this?

Eyes soft but still that rodent red, he gazed at you with so much love you felt as if you could just die of love for him.

You steadied your breath and brought a hand up to cup his cheek, wiping away any remnant of his tears before answering him.

“Nothing's wrong,” You sighed, hands never once leaving his body, “I’ve just missed you so.”

Steven chuckles before kissing your cheek and you shuttered at the strange yet familiar sensation. He pulled you in closer to him, moving you to straddle his thigh that was outstretched in front of him, and pressed his cheek against yours in a movement that you hadn’t felt in so long yet remembered so well. His whiskers tickled your cheek the same way his stubble used to.

“You’re such a sweetheart. I’ve been in my lab the whole time, haven’t I?” Steven chuckled, “Where have I been to you?”

You tilted your head to kiss his cheek, not minding the gentle prodigy of his whiskers.

“I know where you’ve been,” You quickly answered, “I’ve just been busy in my own lab at the hospital.” You lied. You didn’t want to risk reminding him of who he had become.

“The long hours, plus the strange times I have to work, have completely taken me away from you. I just miss being in your company,” You whispered.

Steven shifted you in his lap, pulling back and cupping your face with both his hands and the rubber of his gloves cooled your flushed cheeks. He peppered your face with light and innocent kisses; from your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, the space between your eyebrows, and finally one last kiss to your lips. You hummed into the kiss, one hand gripping his arm and the other trailing up to brush a few strands of hair out of his face. Eyes closed, he wiped the last of your tears from your face.

Pulling back, Steven rested his forehead against yours and sighed.

“How did I manage to end up with such a loving spouse like you, hmm?” He questioned, eyes soft and unfocused as he looked at you with complete adoration. Your hands fall to his shoulders and you squeeze them, never wanting to let go of him again.

“No, it’s me who is lucky to have ended up with you, my beloved,” You answered in a hushed tone. You pressed your lips to his in a chaste, sweet kiss, savoring the feeling of his soft yet chapped lips against your own.

The feeling of his body against your own was one you hadn’t felt in so long, yet it was all too familiar at the same time. Hesitantly you pulled away from him and immediately felt another wave of tears build up behind your eyes. You leaned forward and pressed your face into his neck with arms wrapped around his chest tighter than before. You tilted your face to speak into his neck,

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered, voice small from the unshed tears that burned your face, “Not again. Not ever.”

“Ohh, sweetheart…What has gotten into you?” Steven questioned, arms wrapped around your shaking frame, “I’d never leave you. Not now, not ever.”

You tried to wipe the tears that fell from your eyes not wanting to soil Steven’s lab coat, but you knew he never minded. He always said that he could just wash it.

Steven’s hands are gentle as they caress your body, careful not to snag his gloves on your clothes or pull your hair too hard. His touches soon falter before he pushes you away from him slightly and for a moment you’re worried that he would push you off of him altogether.

With his hands on your shoulders and eyebrows furrowed, Steven finally takes a good look at you, his eyes trailing from your head to your feet, then back up to your face.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice laced with worry, “You look so much thinner than I remember.” He commented. You tried to shrug off his concern, but he persisted.

“And your eyes,” Steven began while tracing your under-eye with his thumb, “You’ve got terrible eye bags. Not that you look bad! You just seem…tired. More than usual.”

You placed your hand over top of his on your face and smiled softly, yet you knew you had to come up with a lie.

“If I’m honest, I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” You started, eyes drifting away from his own, “The long hours I’ve been putting in have made it difficult for me to rest at night. And being away from you hasn’t helped.”

You shifted under his gaze uncomfortable at the probing but still managed to finish.

“But I feel much better now that I’m with you,” You smiled, meeting his eyes again, but a frown had etched itself on his face.

“Y/N, please don’t lie to me,” Steven whispered, and you cursed yourself for having been caught, “What’s troubling you so much? Where have I been?”

You frown yourself, gripping him harder and sniffling. You pulled his hand off your face and rested it in his lap, rubbing the tops of his hands with your thumbs.

“You’ve just…been away,” You mutter, tears brimming in your eyes, “Away from me. I’ve missed you.”

“But where have I been?” Steven asked again.

“I-I don’t know. You’ve been here, but you just haven’t been yourself,” You answered while using your shoulder to wipe your face, “But you’re here now. You’re yourself now! I just want to stay with you…”

Steven pulled his hands from his lap and held your waist, kissing your cheek and shushing your sobs.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered against your skin, “I won’t leave you. I promise.”

You hugged him, arms wrapping your arms around his back and hooking them over his shoulders, and rested your head on his shoulder. His hands on your waist rubbed you gently and soothed the tension you hadn’t realized had settled there. You exhaled a shuddering breath before speaking up,

“I love you, Steven,” You sighed. He holds you tighter.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Steven responded.

Your right-hand falls from where it was resting and trails down his left arm to his hand. There was still something you needed to know. Slowly, Steven lets you pull the glove off his hand and it falls to the floor.

You feel a sob bubble up your throat as your eyes lay on the simple gold band nestled on his slender ring finger. You can’t help but caress the ring, relieved that he still wore it even when he wasn’t Steven. Shakily, you lifted his hand to your face and kissed his knuckles. Pulling away, you lace your fingers together and smile at him, a smile that he returns.

Steven’s grasp on your hand falters before his arm falls limp. He looks around the room with furrowed eyebrows and gears turning in his head.

“Why am I on the floor?” Steven asked, voice hoarse and not the same tone he had been speaking to you with. He shifted back from you and you in turn moved away from him.

“Please, just stay a little longer,” You thought, but you knew your plea would not be answered.

“And why are you sitting on me?” Steven, no, Dr. Two Brains asked, and you’re quick to pull away altogether. The doctor rubs his hand subconsciously and quickly notices his left glove is missing. He looks around panicked before finding it on the floor and swiftly pulling it on his hand and over his elbow. He rubs where his ring is under the glove and glares at you.

“What’s going on here?” Dr. Two Brains asks again, yet you couldn’t come up with a lie quick enough, “Answer me, Commander!”

“I-You fell!” You exclaimed, moving to kneel in front of him, “You fell after you called me to look at your schematics. I was just making sure you didn’t hit your head too hard is all…” Your voice trailed off as determination seemed to die down in your throat.

Dr. Two Brains glares at you for a moment longer before his face softens, but it’s clear his suspicion remains.

“Right…” He draws out while swatting your outstretched hand away and lifting himself to his feet, “Did you look at the schematics yet?”

“No, not yet,” You answered, dusting the dirt off your pants and fixing your coat.

“What am I paying you for then?” Dr. Two Brains groaned while pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut. He opened them a moment later, sighing and looking over to the door of his office.

“And why are you guys just standing around?!” The doctor shouted, drawing your attention to the two henchmen standing in the doorframe.

“Just how long had they been standing there?”

From the look they gave you, it was clear they had been there long enough.

“Sorry, Boss. We’ll get right back to work,” Meatloaf said before motioning for Charlie to follow him. They glanced at you one last time before disappearing somewhere in the lair.

Dr. Two Brains turned back to you and just as he opened his mouth to say something he cut himself off, unsure.

“Are you crying?” Dr. Two Brains asked.

“Were you crying?” You thought as your eyelids fluttered and you tapped your undereye with your fingertip, immediately noting the moisture there.

“Uh-” You stutter, unsure of how to answer him. You felt that an affirmative ‘yes’ would make things more awkward than it already was.

“Oh, geez. I didn’t think I was that harsh,” Dr. Two Brains said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Was I?”

“No-” You clear your throat while trying to quickly dispel the discomfort that had gathered between you two, “It’s nothing. Just…allergies!”

You scrubbed the tears from your eyes roughly and stood up straight, yet Dr. Two Brains was still cautious.

“Um, alright,” He muttered, “Just look over the schematics when you can.” He gestured to his desk before sitting down himself. You’re quick to pick up the offending schematics and scurry out of his office with a teary-eyed smile.

His gaze lingers on you a moment longer than it should have, his hand subconsciously coming up to caress the golden band on his left hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You found yourself on the upper side of the lair on a “balcony” of sorts, schematics long discarded on a table in the main room. You’d look later. You pull the cigarette from your lips in your left hand, exhaling that smoke in one big sigh.

Bad habit, you know. But sometimes you just want to forget the same way he does.

You hear footsteps approaching you on your left and aren’t surprised to see Charlie and Meatloaf peering up at you, unsure if they were allowed up there with you. With a sigh, you motioned for them to join you. They climb up and rest on the railing on either side of you. Meatloaf clears his throat as you take another drag from your cigarette.

“Sooo…” Meatloaf begins, dragging out his single word.

“Sooo…” You copy, not looking over at him.

“You and the Boss are a thing?” He asked, looking at your face for an answer. You frown and drop your cigarette on the ground, stomping out the few burning embers.

“Do you two know my name?” You ask, fingers playing with your glove on your left hand.

“No, the Boss just calls you our commander. He never told us your name,” Meatloaf explains. Your eyes remain down as you take a step back from the railing and pull off your glove. You hold up your left hand for them to see the gold band that rests on your ring finger.

“I’m Dr. Y/N Boxleitner,” You said, dropping your hand back down to your waist and placing your glove back on, “Steven is my husband.”

Charlie’s mouth is agape as Meatloaf stutters out a few incoherent words before taking a deep breath and trying again.

“You’re Dr. Two Brains’ spouse?! I had no idea he was married!” Meatloaf exclaimed, and you chuckled bitterly.

“Yeah, he seems to forget that too,” Meatloaf is silent and Charlie places a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look up at them.

“We noticed…” Meatloaf whispered, trying his best to be comforting. Meatloaf rubbed your other shoulder and looked over to you in concern.

“We’re sorry about what you have to go through. While Charlie and me don’t know much, we can’t imagine how hard it is for you,” Charlie shook his head affirmatively as Meatloaf spoke. You place your hands on theirs and sighed.

“Thanks…” You muttered out quietly, “It really is hard. After the accident, I thought Steven was dead until I saw the news broadcast about him.” Charlie and Meatloaf nod as you continue.

“In a way, he sort of is. He doesn’t even remember me most of the time,” You lean forward and press your face into your hands, elbows resting on the guardrail, “Everytime he forgets…It’s like losing him over and over again.”

The tears finally fell freely down your face and the two henchmen looked at each other panicking, not knowing what to do to comfort you. They let you cry while rubbing your back and Charlie offered you a tissue when most of your crying was done.

“Thank you…” You sniffled before wiping your face and blowing your nose.

“Does the Boss really not recognize you?” Meatloaf asked hesitantly. You shook your head.

“Most times, no,” You answered, shoulders slumped and legs tired, “But I took that vow, ‘In sickness and in health.’ How funny…”

The henchmen are silent.

“I mean, really. What horrible act did I commit to deserve this outcome?” The tears were back with a vengeance and you rubbed your eyes extra hard to rid yourself of them, ignoring the sharp sting of your lab coat rubbing your delicate skin so rough, “It’s n-not fair. I’ve don’t nothing but love Steven with all my heart, and when he looks at me-”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale, suddenly unable to breath properly.

“He doesn’t even remember me!” You shouted, banging your fists on the railing and noting the small dents in the metal, “It hurts…More than anything, it hurts so bad.”

The henchmen stayed with you for the rest of the night, even helping you cook dinner and having a small sleepover that Dr. Two Brains wasn’t a part of. You looked absolutely tired when the three of you sat down to watch a movie and you ended up only making it half way through it before you were out like a light. The two covered you with a discarded, mostly clean towel that was lying around -- it was the closest to a proper blanket -- before leaving the lair for the night. Charlie glanced at your sleeping form one last time, sympathy for you overflowing, before Meatloaf called him over to the truck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Less than an hour later, Dr. Two Brains made his way into the main part of the lair, finding you passed out on the couch. As he approached, he pulled the towel off of you with a disgusted sneer and immediately noted the smell of cigarettes on you. It was faint even for the mouse nose, but it was definitely cigarettes he was smelling.

Dr. Two Brains grumbled to himself about forcing you to quit while grabbing a proper blanket and pillow from the storage area of the lair. He came back and covered your now shivering body with the thick comforter. There were a few holes in it and it smelled a little funky, but it was better than the damn towel that’s for sure.

Ever so gently, Dr. Two Brains lifts your head and squeezes the pillow underneath it before dropping you back down. He watched you turn your head in your sleep and sigh.

The Doctor felt odd as he stared at your face, subconsciously tucking a loose strand of hair out of the way.

You were so familiar to him, yet he could not recall how he knew you.

#dr. two brains #dr. two brains x reader #wordgirl #wordgirl x reader #dtb x reader #wordgirl dr two brains #thewildsophia writes

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tobeckyweek · 2 years

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Honey, Honey (how he thrills me)

Tobecky Week Day 2

Summary: Becky has PLENTY of time before her date tonight, no matter what everyone is saying.

AO3 ink

cws: food, canon-typical action

“Uh, kid? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Dr. Two Brains, blinking in bewilderment, stared at WordWoman.

“Nah, I’ve got plenty of time.” She waved a hand airily. “Besides, I gotta work off the nerves somehow.”

“O-kay,” he said, slowly, then shrugged. “Your funeral!”

He shot off his ray, but she dodged easily – the grocery store shelves behind her turning into green goop. Nearby, the grocery store manager sighed and went to get a mop.

“You’re fired!” He called to Dr. Two Brains, but the mad scientist was busy cackling, rolling behind a nearby grocery cart before scampering over to the cheese display.

“Doc, you know we’re going to have cheese there, right?” She circled towards him, eyes narrowed.

“‘Course I do!” He said, indignantly. “I just figured, you know, either I get away with cheese scot free, or I get to see you beforehand so…”

Her expression softened. “If I didn’t know better, Doc, I’d almost call that sweet of you.”

“Good thing you know better then.” He pulled a face, whiskers twitching. “Especially because that was just a distraction.”

“Wha– oh!”

The arms of Dr. Two Brains’ henchmen seized around her, trapping her in place.

“Hey, hey, watch the hair!” She complained. “I just got it done.”

“Oh, right!” Meatloaf winced, grip slackening. “Sorry.”

She grinned, wickedly. “No, I’m sorry.”

With an elbow to the gut and a burst of superspeed, she was free – ripping a cart in half with her bare hands and twisting the metal around Dr. Two Brains and his hapless henchmen.

“Ha,” she said, wiping her hands, “and I didn’t even break a sweat.”

A frown creased her brow as she watched the police cuff the three villains, loading them into a patrol unit.

“You’re sure you can break out in time?” She called, a tad anxiously.

“Don’t sweat it, kid!” Dr. Two-Brain’s round ears twitched, a grin revealing his elongated teeth. “Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

“You’d better not!” She called, as the door slammed shut.

“WordWoman, you’ve saved the day again!” The Mayor trundled by, beaming. “I don’t suppose I can interest you in this key to the city, can I?”

“Oh, on any other day I would, but I’ve really gotta get ready!” She zipped into the air, leaving him baffled in her wake.

“Ready? Ready for what?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Becky muttered to herself, zipping through the sky in a golden blur. “The dress is at home, the picnic is packed, the Bob is– Bob!”

She pressed a button on the side of her visor, LED display lighting up as she connected to her sidekick. “Bob, how’s everything going on your end? Decorations looking okay?”

He chirped, once in affirmation then again inquisitively.

“Doc was just messing around, don’t worry. Can you tell Violet and Scoops I’ll be there soon?”

He hooted.

“Aw, thanks, love you too!”

Becky zipped through Violet’s window in record time, the various papers tacked up on her best friend’s walls rattling in the sudden breeze.

“Becky, there you are!” Violet exclaimed – as much as her wispy voice allowed – shuttling the other girl into her vanity chair. “You’re running late!”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” Becky insisted, detransforming. She closed her eyes obediently as Violet began powdering her with golden eyeshadow.

“Art cannot be rushed,” Violet said, solemnly. “And I swear that you will be a masterpiece, Becky.”

“Becks, I hate to break it to you, but I think you may have to cut some of this down.” In the corner, what Becky had mistaken for a pile of discarded papers revealed itself to be Scoops, ink-smudged and frowning at a paperclipped stack the size of his head. “Also, why did you say ‘inamorata’ and ‘verdure eyes’ so many times?”

“I… might have been a little overzealous.” Becky warily eyed the mascara wand Violet brandished at her. “Do you have all your camera equipment ready, though?”

“Absolutely!” He lit up, patting his heavy media bag. “Also, what do you think about this for an announcement: breaking news! legendary adversaries turn paramours as–”

“Honey, did you write the entire thing as a news briefing?” Violet paused in the middle of roguing Becky’s cheek, turning a skeptical look on her boyfriend.

“I… I mean.” He winced. “Rose did the same thing!”

Becky snorted. “This is what you get for being partners with two reporters, Violet.”

“Don’t remind me,” Violet sighed, but her smile was dreamy. “Now, Becky, red or pink lipstick?”

A flash of green eyes, unable to tear themselves away from her in red, destroying another robotic army.

She smiled, mischievous. “I’ve been reliably informed that red is my color.”

Humming, Violet swatched on the lipstick, tilting Becky’s head this way and that to make sure the application was even.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, voice bubbling. “Excited? Nervous? Scared?”

“Option D,” Scoops offered, chewing on the end of his pen, “all of the above?”

“Option E,” Becky countered, laughing. “Effervescent.”

“I bet,” Violet cooed. “But I think you are going to have to cut down your speech a little– Becky. Don’t.”

“Don’t do what?” Becky said, over innocent.

“That’s your ‘I just heard an alarm bell’ face,” Violet said, dryly.

“Becky.” Scoops took her by the shoulders, shaking her gently. “Don’t you have more important things to be worried about?”

“I’ve got time!” She hovered midair, carefully peeling his hands off. “Besides, it sounds like its coming from the jewelry store, and Reginald will be insufferable if I don't help.”

“If you’re late, don’t blame us!” Scoops called, but Becky had already taken to the skies.

The front window of Ye Olde Fancy Smancy Jewelry store was smashed in, a familiar, hulking frame rummaging through the display cases.

“Hold it right there, Butcher!”

“WordWoman!” He whipped around, falling into a fighting stance, before he straightened up, frowning. “Hang on, shouldn’t you be getting ready right now?”

“I’ve got plenty of time,” she insisted.

“Eh, if you’re smertain.” He shrugged before launching a giant ham at her.

She dodged easily. “You mean certain! It’s when you’re absolutely sure about something. Like I’m absolutely certain I’m not going to be late for tonight.”

“You gettin’ excited?” He smiled, launching a link of sausages at her. “It’s all you’ve been talking about for weeks.”

“I mean,” she laughed, a little sheepishly as she grabbed it and spun it around, hitting him in the chest. “It’s been a long time coming.”

“Oh, you can say that again!” He pulled himself up, swinging the sausages like nunchucks. “I thought we all were going to go nuts watching you two dance around each other.”

“I can’t believe how oblivious we were back then.” She snorted, ducking around his attacks.

“Eh, you were just kids.” He darted past her, ruffling her hair along the way. “But you’re always gonna be just kids to me.”

“No no, by all means,” Reginald, tied up with sausage links in the corner, drawled. “Continue your inane familial banter while my store’s being robbed. The very store you so recently patroned, may I remind you.”

“We will, thanks!” WordWoman chirped.

She and The Butcher sparred with an easy familiarity, Becky careful not to get any meatiness on her. She huddled behind the counter, protecting herself from being pelted with hamburger patties and anxiously wondering if she had time for a shower when a familiar voice interrupted.

“WordWoman!”

She turned around, already beaming. “Math Man!”

Her fellow superhero landed, punching a crater in the floor before he slowly rose, cracking his knuckles. “This is adding up to a negative outcome for you, Butcher.”

“Aw, come on, guys,” The Butcher complained. “I gotta get a gift for the regress-tree somehow.”

“You mean registry,” WordWoman corrected. “A type of official list containing information on people or things. In this case, you’re looking for a gift registry – a list kept by a store containing information on things people want as a gift, often in celebration of a… a certain event.”

She coughed, flushing, even as a smile slipped through her fingers.

“Speaking of” – Math Man turned to his partner, an eyebrow raised – ”don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“I’ve got plenty of time!” She insisted. “My makeup and nails are already done.”

“I like the nails!” The Butcher commented, scrutinizing different diamond necklaces. “Very shiny. Hey, Reggie, which one did you say was the most valuable?”

“Never call me that again,” Reginald said, looking as disgruntled as WordWoman had ever seen him. “And I’ll have you know I don’t appreciate my suit being smudged with this meaty residue. I had it especially made for the event tonight.”

The Butcher paused for a moment, an anxious crease forming between his eyebrows. “But we’re still goin’ together, right?”

“Well, that goes without saying.” Reginald sniffed. “The diamond necklace to your immediate left, by the way.”

“Thanks.” The Butcher snatched it up in one meaty palm.

“Hold it right there, Butcher!” WordWoman rose in the air, pointing an impetuous finger at him. “The only thing you’re taking is a nice long vacation… in jail!”

“Booo,” Math Man deadpanned.

“Look, I’ve got a busy day, okay?”

“And it’s about to get a lot busier.” The Butcher flung his hands forward. “Hamalan– huh?”

Stomp stomp stomp

The clanging of metallic feet against the ground shook the city, and Becky lit up, zipping halfway outside before she caught herself and turned around.

“Hey, Math Man, do you mind…?”

“I calculate my odds of success are pretty good.” He winked, hands lighting up with a blue glow. “And don’t worry, I’ll drop him off at the bookstore for the real registry.”

“You’re the best!” She zipped over, giving him and The Butcher both a quick hug. “See you guys tonight!”

“See you, WW!” The Butcher called, beaming, before turning with a fierce glower onto Math Man. “Hamburger hurricane!”

But she was already halfway across the city, a grin exploding across her face as she saw three sixty-feet robots smashing their way through the streets.

She took out the first one without a second thought, smashing through its chest and tearing out circuitry along the way. It fell to the ground in a rain of sparks, smoking. She paused for a moment, frowning at a chip in one of her nails, before the shadow of another giant robot fell over her.

“WordWoman,” a familiar voice drawled – dark and rich and low. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“McCallister.” Becky zipped up to his level, putting a hand on her hip just-so. “Causing trouble?”

“Would you expect anything else from me, darling?” He looked half-ready – hair slicked back in that way that always turned her stomach to water and coy green eyes lined with black. “I must say, you are a ravishing sight. I don’t suppose you’re doing anything later?”

She floated closer, walking two fingers up his shoulder and flicking off a speck of ash. “I have a… prior engagement.”

“Shame,” he murmured, his hand finding her waist. “I was hoping to have you all to myself.”

He leaned in, lips a breath away from hers, but she put a finger between them, eyes shining. “Save it, lover boy.”

“Can you blame me for being excited, my darling?”

“No, but I can and will blame you if you show up covered in grease.” She shoved him, lightly, biting back a laugh when he swooned dramatically. “Go get ready, Tobey.”

“I could say the same thing about you, love. From the looks of the news, you’ve had a busy day.”

“Oh, those clowns? Just getting my energy up.” She lidded her eyes. “You know there’s only one archenemy for me.”

“Oh, I know,” he murmured, and she had only the edge of a wicked grin to warn her before he leaned backwards and plummeted through the air. He laughed wildly as he fell like the first sinning angel, carefree as his lab coat fluttered around him and his arms extended towards her.

Darting through the sky in a golden blur, she intercepted, cradling him firmly.

“Tobey,” she chastised. “You have got to stop doing that.”

“Oh, my darling,” he sighed, and rested his head against her shoulder. “I know you’d never let me fall.”

She loved him so much she could hardly stand it, sometimes.

“Come on, nerd.” She held him a little tighter before launching into the sky, hiding her smile at his gleeful whoop. “I get the feeling your mommy is looking for you.”

Below, a woman with dyed-red hair rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone. “Hey, I’m going to be late. Yeah, those idiots were flirting and left a giant robot wandering around downtown again.”

“Oh, hello, dear!” Mrs. McCallister turned a sunny beam on Becky when she landed Tobey outside his childhood home.

She flashed a smile back, looking smugly at Tobey. “Hello, Mrs. McCallister.”

“Honey, you know to call me Claire,” she chided, before turning on her son. “And you, young man! You are by no means ready–”

She dragged him inside as Becky blew him a kiss. He caught it, pressing a hand to his chest and winking as the door slammed shut between them.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Ms. Question floated by on her question mark, brow furrowed quizzically. “Do you need a lift?”

“Hey, Ms. Question!” WordWoman waved. “I’m fine, don’t worry. Just got a little side-tracked–”

But the villain had already zipped up to her, gasping in indignation.

“How did you chip your nails already? Didn’t I just paint them this morning?”

“It’s fine,” WordWoman assured her. “Tobey and I were just… well.”

She cleared her throat, and Ms. Question rolled her eyes. “Will I ever understand you kids?”

“We’re not kids anymore,” Becky laughed, gesturing to herself.

“Oh, I suppose you’re not, are you?” Ms. Question cleared her throat, blinking away the mistiness in her eyes. “Now, what are we waiting for?”

She grabbed Becky by the wrist, pulling her onto the question mark behind her, and taking off into the air. “Did Leslie tell you I already dropped off the cupcakes?”

“Uh…” Becky pulled out her phone, parsing through the abundance of celebratory messages, until she found her group chat with Leslie and Mr. Big.

Biggie: and don’t be nervous!!! If anyone tries to interrupt you two, I’ll mind control them.

Leslie: I don’t think you should confess your evil plans to a superhero in writing, sir.

Leslie: Ms. Question delivered the cupcakes, so the after party should be all taken care of, by the way.

WW: Thank you both!

Biggie: AAAAH this is so exciting. Leslie, remember how nervous I was when we did this?

Leslie: You were so anxious you broke five of your squishy bunnies and nearly fainted in the middle of the restaurant.

Biggie: ah, good times :-)

“Well, are you just going to sit here all day?”

Becky looked up with a start to see they had arrived.

“Thank you!” She hugged the villain before floating off. “I’ll see you soon!”

She snorted. “I suppose I’ll see your good friend Becky in a minute, won’t I?”

“Oops, right! You’ll see her later.” With a wink, WordWoman slipped through the door to her childhood home.

“You are late, tardy, and less than punctual!” Beatrice Bixby and several of her copies swarmed Becky as soon as she stepped into the living room – one exclaiming over the state of her hair, two laying out her sundress and insisting she change as soon as possible, the others fussing over Becky’s superficial scrapes.

“Oh, those idiotic, foolish, stupid men,” she complained. “I told them at the last meeting that today was special, and what do they do?”

“It’s really not a big deal, Tía Bea,” Becky laughed, detransforming and wiping off her arms with a damp towel. “I think they’re just being supportive… in their own way.”

“You can say that again!” Sally ran in from the kitchen, beaming, and Becky ran into her arms, squeezing her tight.

“Mom!”

“Oh, my baby.” Sally pulled back, cupping her daughter’s face. “How do you feel?”

For the first time all day, Becky took a deep breath, assessing herself. There was a tremble in her arms and butterflies in her stomach. Her hands fluttered; she couldn’t stop smiling. She wasn’t calm by any means, but her heart beat was steady, sure. She was ready.

“Elated.” She squeezed her mom’s hands. “I’m so, so excited.”

“And I,” Beatrice interrupted, cantankerous, as a few of her clones pushed Becky towards her bedroom, “would be a lot more excited if we could stick to the schedule.”

“Right!” Sally squealed. “Go get dressed, mija, then we can fix your hair.”

Becky, windblown and sweaty after a day of fighting crime, blinked. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

The sundress was perfect.

It was a deep navy, striking against her warm brown skin, speckled with orange and yellow stars. She let out a shaking breath, skating her hands over her torso, tugging away imaginary wrinkles. In her pocket, a small velvet box nestled, tapping her hip with every step.

The backyard was strung with lights, tables set out for a party. But that would come later.

First, Becky had something very important to ask.

“Becky!” A knock, then the door swung open to reveal her brother and his boyfriend, adorned with sly smiles.

“TJ.” She eyed her brother warily. “Not going to do anything, are you?”

“I’m good, Becks,” he said, far too innocently.

“Yeah!” Johnson added. “We already gave him the shovel talk!”

“Babe.” TJ’s face fell into his palm. “Remember how we talked about not telling my sister that part?”

“Oh.” Johnson said. “Ooohh.”

“Why did I ever let TJ pull you to the darkside, Johnson?” Becky sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t think you have any room to talk about someone’s partner drawing them to the dark side,” Johnson said, thoughtfully.

Becky rolled her eyes, even as she grabbed them into a hug. “I love you dorks.”

“Yeah, yeah, enough with the mushy stuff.” TJ pulled a face, wiggling out of his sister’s grasp. “Come on, superhero. It’s time to get out there.”

“Right.” Becky exhaled, slowly, smoothing her palms down the front of her dress. “How do I look?”

“Lovely.”

Becky turned, beaming. “Dad!”

He caught her in a hug, squeezing tight. “Oh, look at my little girl.” When he pulled back, his eyes were misty. “All grown up.”

“Daaad,” she complained, blinking. “Violet would kill me if I smudged my eyeliner now.”

“Right. Right!” He bounced on his toes, shaking himself. “Come on, Tim, you’ve got your danger pants on and everything.”

He held out his arm. “Ready, honey?”

She took it. “Ready.”

Her parents dropped her off at the McCallisters’, Sally beaming while Tim quietly sobbed with joy into a napkin.

Becky took a deep breath, swinging the picnic basket in her hand, before taking those familiar steps to Tobey’s doorstep. It was funny, how familiar something like this could get. Becky knew the path to Tobey’s door almost as well as she knew the path to her childhood home, had walked it thousands of times before.

She’d gotten used to it as a little girl, storming up the path to argue with him about whatever havoc he’d wrecked this week, in the city or at school; gotten used to it as a teenager, trying so hard not to admit what it was, exactly, that had her coming up with the smallest excuses to see him; gotten used to it as a young adult, heart in her throat and sweat on her palms as she asked him to come outside please? There was something she needed to tell him.

But that flutter in her chest when the door swung open and Tobey stood before her – tall and slim and rakishly handsome – Becky doubted she would ever get used to that.

“You’re late.”

She smiled, a little sheepishly. “I seem to recall you saying something about absence making the heart grow fonder.”

“Oh, darling.” He found her hand, squeezed. “I’ll love you more every day, no matter where you are.”

“In that case.” She grinned, tugging him outside. “Happy anniversary, Tobey McCallister. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

The picnic blanket was already laid out on a cliff overlooking the city, weighed down at the corners. The sun hadn’t set quite yet, barely hanging on by its rosy fingers and casting a golden sheen over them as Becky touched down, gently lowering Tobey.

He glanced around, understanding dawning in his green eyes. “Stargazing?”

She grinned, nudging his shoulder with her own. “Our first date, six years ago today.”

“And here I thought I was a hopeless romantic.”

“You are a romantic, Tobey.” Becky laid the picnic basket down, carefully unloading plates of fruit and sweets. She looked up, at his sharp features turned to bronze in the dying light – the curved arch of his nose, the the freckles he always tried to hide, his slightly overgrown eyebrows. “No hopeless about it.”

“Have you ever heard of des vu?” Becky asked, once the grapes and strawberries were eaten, once the cupcakes were nothing but crumbs, once the sun was falling fast and hard – crashing into the endless horizon.

Tobey hummed in consideration, long fingers tapping against her knee. “Is that like deja vu?”

“Similar, yes, but while deja vu is the feeling that you’ve experienced something before, des vu is the feeling that you’ll experience whatever is currently happening again. That it’ll become a memory you’ll relive over and over.”

He grinned, revealing a crooked smile. “Like how the first time you tried to kiss me, you went in too fast and chipped my tooth?”

“I was nervous!” She defended, falling into the old argument as easy as breathing. “You were being… you.”

“Eloquent as always, my dear. Oh, don’t make that face. It was worth every single emergency dental intervention.”

“Well how about when you tricked me into going on a date with you by insisting you had ‘oh absolutely no idea’ where the remote to your malfunctioning robots could possibly be?”

“Your impression of me has not gotten more flattering over the years.” Tobey snorted, resting his head against hers. “But, yes. I knew then that was a day I’d always want to remember. Why do you ask, by the way? About des vu?”

“Because,” Becky said, heart in her throat as she gently pulled away, hand going to her pocket, “I have the strangest feeling we’re going to remember this moment.”

She pulled a small velvet box out, going down on one knee.

His hand flew to his mouth, eyes going huge as he stood, trembling.

She took a deep breath, looking up at him. “Theodore Tobey McCalister the Third, I–”

“Yes,” Tobey blurted.

“I– you haven’t even let me ask yet.”

“Right, right, I know.” He nodded frantically. “Go on. The answer’s yes though.”

“Okay.” She opened the box, revealing two perfectly identical golden rings, etched with stars. “Theodore Tobey McCallister, will you –”

“Yes! Right, shoot, sorry. Shutting up.”

“Tobey, will you– You want to say it again, don’t you?”

“Oh my God, so bad.”

“Tobey,” she said, laughing. “You have to let me ask at least. I had a whole speech!”

“Right, yes.” He looked almost like a bobblehead at this point. “Still yes. Sorry. Freaking out a little. You can tell me later.”

“Tobey–”

“–yes–”

“–will you–”

“–yes–”

“–marry–”

“–yes, yes, yes–”

“–me?”

“Yes!”

He all but tackled her, long arms wrapping around her as they fell into the grass, shrieking with laughter.

“Rings, Tobey!” Becky cried, scrambling for the box.

“Right!” He jerked back, abashed, only for her to reach for his hand.

“May I?”

He nodded, not trusting his voice as she lifted his hand – so large compared to her own. She ran her fingertips down the length of his palm, up his ring finger before sliding the golden hoop on.

A perfect fit.

“Your turn,” she said, softly.

He slid the ring on her finger with trembling, reverent hands. He smoothed his thumb over the golden star, lifting her hand to kiss the ring.

“Becky.”

“Yes, Tobey.”

“You asked me to marry you.”

“I was there at the time, yes.”

“Ha,” he said, grinning wickedly. “I win. You’re stuck with me now.”

“Oh no,” she sighed, swooning dramatically against him. “Whatever will I do now?”

She flopped over into his lap, and he grinned down at her, twirling the ring on his finger. “You’ll have to live with me, I suppose.”

“Well,” she said, reaching up and running a finger down the curve of his forehead, the arch of his nose, the softness of his lips, the bump of his chin, “I suppose I can do that.

“By the way,” Becky said, “I should warn you that I told… literally everyone, and they’re waiting to throw us a party back at my house.”

“Nevermind.” Tobey groaned, burying his face in her shoulder to hide a smile. “I want a divorce.”

“We have to get married first, McCallister.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He kissed her forehead before pulling back, looking vaguely bashful. “And, erm, actually… I think I’d prefer to be a Botsford.”

“Really?” A slow smile bloomed across Becky’s face. “You’d– wait. Did you just agree to marry me because your last name will have ‘Bot’ in it?”

“That was one in a myriad of factors, yes.”

“Don’t think you can distract me with vocabulary words, Mr. Botsford.”

Tobey’s green eyes glowed; he was nearly smiling too hard to kiss her.

Nearly.

“Very well then, Mrs. Botsford,” he murmured once they pulled back, resting his forehead against hers. His laugh was soft, quiet. She could smell the sharp, clean mint on his breath. “I’ll be recticient. Although I do postulate that with this new development, it would be apropos to simply abscond while we can.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re ridiculous?” She asked, winding her arms around his neck.

“At least five times a day.” He grinned down at her. “Did I ever tell you that I love you?”

“At least five times a day.”

“Hm. I think I could stand to say it more often.”

“Do you?” She breathed, and every star in the sky was reflected in those brown eyes.

“Oh my darling,” Tobey said, and his hand cupped her cheek, the metal of his ring cool against her skin. “I do.”

Later, they would return to Becky’s childhood home, where their families – the ones they had been born into and the ones they had found – would be waiting with bated breath to congratulate them. Later, they would endure small talk and catch each other’s eyes across a crowd, no matter where they were, no matter who they were talking to. Later, there would be a fuss over floral arrangements and bridesmaid dresses and catering. Later, there would be a tuxedo and a princess-cut dress, all white lace and silk.

But that was later.

Now, a hero and her villain, two rivals turned friends turned everything, Becky and Tobey stood on a cliff with the most beautiful view anyone had ever ignored. Now, they were light-headed with joy, incandescent. Now, as they would always be, they were in love.

Now was a moment just for them.

And on their intertwined hands, two golden rings gently clinked.

#tobeckyweek #submission #tobecky week 2022 #day 2: des vu #wordgirl #becky botsford #tobey mccallister

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