Leela didn't want to get up. It was as simple as that. And this 'not like her' desire was the reason she kept her eye shut even as the rest of her roused and became more aware of itself. The broadest sensation was warmth. She honestly felt the way she thought a candle looked and there didn't seem to be any threat of her overheating any time soon. Being as comfortable as she was, she wondered if the previous day happened the way she remembered it. It wouldn't be the first dream she had recently about Fry that ended with them snoozing together.
Her limbs then got more feeling and the conclusion was reached that she was partially laying on something that, while denser then what normally occupied her bed with her, had an amount of give to it. Like a giant marshmallow.
Mmm, marshmallow... Her lips curled into a smile as her arms tightened their hold.
"Ow." Fry grit his teeth, shut his eyes, and tried to keep his groaning as soft as possible. He'd been watching Leela sleep on his one good arm for the past fifteen-odd minutes and thought she was still so. Waking her was out of the question even in the case of undo pressure to his side, but she was snuggled so close to him that she felt him tense and released.
"Sorry," she whispered. "I forgot." Peering up through her bangs, Leela offered an apologetic smile before her fingers softly drummed through his worn shirt. "Forgive me?"
His usual goofy grin was her answer, followed by a wink from his now barely open right eye. There was ever a need to ask for forgiveness with Fry, but she wasn't sure if it was because he couldn't hold a grudge or if she had more wiggle-room as the object of his affection. In either case, it didn't seem right to just leave it at she was sorry for nearly caving his chest.
"It doesn't matter," he said. "It only hurts when I laugh." As he stretched, she could see the blanket over his toes twitch. His whole body ached in general and with the pain of a few simple movements, he feared his first stretch (comforting as it may be) may be his last for a while. Not wanting to make Leela worry more, he avoided wincing as he leaned against the headboard and changed the subject. "How'd you sleep?"
"Wonderfully. Better then I have all week." As she straightened, Fry caught a glimpse of a smile that revealed more of her mood then words ever could. Not that a grin was all he saw. Her light pink pajamas were just like her regular clothes in that the end of her top perfectly met the cut off of her bottoms. Her fingers lacing together preceded her arms traveling above her head, and the action lifted her shirt slightly. There was a two-inch wide band of skin around her middle that Fry had to try very hard to not stare at. He failed spectacularly.
What Leela had said was more interesting. After a bit of processing, at least. On the one hand, he knew it was a compliment that meant she was comfortable around him. On the other hand, he saw an opportunity to test the foundation on which their relationship now stood. Nothing big, just something to mess with her. "Thanks a lot. I only had to get beat up for you to have a nice nap."
"Fry, that's not what I..." She was cursing herself as she started, knowing there was a better way to have worded that sentence. He was comforting no matter what form he was in, though there was no way to have known that until now, and having him human was definitely preferable. But one look at his face and her explanation died. Fry was trying his damnedest to not burst into a laughing fit and she frowned. "That's not funny."
"Come on, I got you," he snickered back. "It's kind of funny."
Leela's face fell a fraction lower then it already was. "No, it's not. I was really worried about you." She sniffed, then hid her face in her hands and gave a muffled sob. "It was a relief to find out you were here the whole time, but before that I thought...you could have been dead!" Her body shook as she continued sobbing, much to Fry's dismay.
"Leela, I was just kidding! Really, I didn't mean to upset you. Please don't cry." He griped her wrist and tried to bring her hand down. He hated the sight of tears, but luckily for him she didn't have any. What sounded like crying was really laughter, and as her hand moved out of the way she stuck her tongue out at him.
"That's not funny," he said before mimicking her action.
Leela smiled and bumped his shoulder affectionately. "Aw, but I got you."
Fry rolled his eyes. "Sure, you got me by playing dirty." False tears were about as low as someone could get, but he knew he had it coming. He had seen firsthand how much his absence had bothered her. She cried over me. Usually she only cries over you if you're her parents or an animal. Well, I was an animal, but she wasn't crying for cat me. It was human me, but I was still...I just confused myself. "So, it's our first weekend together. What's the plan?"
Leela shook her head, her feelings as odd mix of exasperation and amusement that had yet to be defined. "We've spent weekends together before. Flights to Omicron Persei 8 take almost a week round trip."
"I know, but Bender was there too. And..." Everything in the room seemed terribly interesting then, as he was doing all he could to avoid looking at the woman sitting next to him. While he was doing that, the parts of his face that weren't a sick shade of violet looked like they were turning pink. "You know what I mean."
This time it was Leela who failed spectacularly, but it was in her attempt at acting. She didn't want him to feel embarrassed, and she didn't want him to know she was staring at him, but he looked cute when he was bashful and she rarely got to see it. "I know. We could always be lazy and just stay in bed."
Tempting. Very tempting. And not just because it would be making up for a lot of lost time. Any pain Fry was in shifted to a mere throbbing if he didn't move too much and the bed was just as comfortable as he remembered. But then again, he still had his plan to consider. It wasn't just on him this time and the longer he waited the more chance it would fall through the cracks. Leela would never know about it, but he'd feel awful.
"Hey, we still need to eat right?" As he posed his question, he extended his arm and began to play with the ends of her loose hair. If he seemed to be letting his mind wander, it would be easier to believe he was making things up as he went along. Not to mention it was fun. "How about I make us breakfast while you're in the shower?"
Leela shook her head, a half hearted attempt to free her tresses from the probing fingers. "Why should I shower now when I could enjoy watching you make a mess of my kitchen and then shower?" When she turned she had a slightly superior look on her face, obviously thinking she had the better argument.
"Because you stink?"
Her expression went from calm to murderous in the time it took Fry to blink. "Excuse me?"
Holding his hands up in defense, but knowing it wouldn't do much if she really wanted to hurt him, he tried to explain himself. "I said it before I thought about it please don't kill me!" She didn't change much at his plea, he thought it was one of those times he should just keep right on lying and see what happens. Defeated look and all. "Look Leela, there's only three things I wanted to do this weekend and I've already got two. I sort of need you out of the way to get the last one. Please?"
Going from fuming to intrigued wasn't a switch you see everyday, but luckily for Fry she gradually did just that. "That depends. What are these things you want?"
He was gaining ground and he knew it. All he had to do now was actually tell the truth. Not the whole truth, but just enough to get her off her guard. "I wanted to be back to normal by Friday for one."
She nodded, pulling her legs up onto the bed and crossing them in front of her. "Go on."
The second thing on the list made him look at his lap and he could feel his face getting hot again. Don't try to stop it, it'll help. "Today...I wanted to wake up next to you." He managed to look up and meet her eye just as he finished his sentence and he could tell he'd made an impact. She didn't look like she was preparing to maim him anymore at any rate.
"Okay," she started. "If that's what you've got so far I just might help you. What's the last one?"
"Sometime today I wanted to do something romantic for my girlfriend?" That didn't start out as a question, but halfway there it just seemed like the right move to make. She didn't react at all for a few seconds and he could tell she was thinking, but even that seemed like a bad thing. Oh great, I went over the line again.
Leela smiled after what seemed like forever and patted his knee. "That's too bad for you Fry, because if your girlfriend finds out you woke up next to me she'll drop you like a bad habit."
"I...you...what?" Fry stammered as he tried to come up with a good response, but as it was most of the time, one eluded him. It wasn't until Leela slid off the bed that he had a painful epiphany. It wasn't what she said, it was what she didn't say. And what she hadn't said (when she had pretty good reason to no less) was 'I'm not your girlfriend.' Ordinarily she was direct and if she wanted to smite his hopes it would have been less then difficult, but for some reason she seemed happy. And not the usual 'content because nothing was bothering her at the moment' happy either. This was a genuine 'teenage girl that just won tickets to see the Backstreet Boy's heads' happy. It was nice. In a freaky kind of way.
"I'll be in the shower if you need me." Leela was halfway to the door and her top was halfway off before she seemed to think the better of it and let it go. Turning back, she sported a suggestive looking smile. "If you're sure you wouldn't rather join me."
Even if Fry had the time to think about what word would best describe his reaction to that statement, he would never have come up with 'flabbergasted'. Luckily his body was thinking faster then his brain; his right hand rose and jabbed a finger in the direction of his left elbow. It wasn't long after that he himself caught on. "I can't get my cast wet, remember?"
For a space of time after she covered her face, the only sound in the room was Leela laughing into her hands. Once that action served its purpose, whatever that may have been, Fry received a look whose only meaning could be 'you're so cute'. "I remember, I was kidding."
He chuckled. Of course she was. She wouldn't really...would she? Nah, not this soon. He had to rationalize this as much as possible considering in any other event he would have jumped, nay pounced, on such an offer. He probably would have beaten her to the bathroom in all honesty. Even if scrubbing her back was as close as he got to second base, it would be worth it.
Good thing she remembered. I thought she was serious.
Too bad I forgot. I was serious. To take a little more walking time, she began undoing the buttons down her front instead of yanking her shirt clean off. She had almost done just that when changing into her pajamas last night before Fry reminded her that, while he was in her apartment, he was never in the same room with her while she undressed. A bit of a feat for following her home three nights in a row. After mulling it over and realizing he was right, she had reclaimed some of her carelessly tossed aside modesty and hastily scurried out.
She came back to the here and now and managed to keep her actions more composed. When gravity began to work its magic, Leela coolly allowed her top to slip off her shoulders and down her arms. The fabric held Fry's attention more so then her exposed back and just before the shutting door blocked his view, he watched as she flicked and turned her wrist so that she grabbed her cuff as her hand came free.
It was when she was out of sight that her slight anxiety caught up with her. She leaned back, tilted her head against the door, and let out a shaky sigh/laugh. I can't believe I did that. Poor Fry, I bet I almost gave him a heart attack. She started the shower and let it run as she finished undressing and hung her clothes next to her towel. During this time she could have sworn she heard the phone ring, but with the water splashing it was hard to tell for sure. After debating, she turned off the tap and stood next to the door with her towel in hand as a just in case. "Fry? Did I hear ringing?"
"Yeah." His voice was muffled enough to begin with, but for some reason the exact volume made her think he was by the door that led to her living room.
"Who was it?"
"It was uh, wrong number. They asked if you wanted to get the Sunday New New York Times, so I told 'em you don't get the paper at all."
"Alright, I'll be out in a bit." Once the water was going again, she stepped in and jumped before turning up the hot and relaxing.
"Take your time. I'm not the best cook so this could take a while."
After forty minutes of soaking, Leela was wondering just how much more time she could waste. She wasn't in danger of running out of hot water and she knew it. She knew it so well in fact that it didn't even cross her mind. No one had run out of hot water since 2618 and unintentional cold showers were a pleasantly forgotten memory. Still, given the risk of pruning, she spun the squeaky valve, shook her hair out, and groped around for her towel.
Burgundy terrycloth cinched around her torso and blue brush in hand, Leela came upon her bedroom as she had expected it: empty. The state of her bed was what surprised her. It put her into a mild, though pleasant, shock really, but the degree to which she was shaken wasn't as important as what lay before her. The bed was made. Sloppily, but neater then she'd left it. It seemed Fry didn't completely lack foresight after all.
Or perhaps he was going the extra parsec to stay on her good side. After trying and failing for so long to get her attention it was only natural to think he'd expect another calamity to befall him, undo his hard work, and he would loose her again. But that was crazy. It could take a while for her to actually voice, but the only way her heart could slip through his fingers now was if some unseen force with a very dark sense of humor hit some sort of bizarre 'reset' button on their lives. And that was just nutty. She laughed at the sheer absurdity of it as she walked into the living room.
The brain is really an amazing thing when you think about the speed with which it can process information. No noises from the kitchen, no limping redhead rushing around, and no smells wafting through the air all told one story and it was that Fry was gone.
Again.
Leela tried to curb her panic with reason while her mind flashed back to the morning before. There were no signs of a struggle and no blood around. Nothing new anyway. Logic would denote that he was fine. But she couldn't be certain of that until he was standing right in front of her and she could put her arms around him. If her towel happened to go loose at the same time, then that would just be the universe's idea of a bonus.
Luckily she didn't have long to wait. The door opened and her fingers froze in her bangs mid-brush. Fry clearly wasn't aware of the turmoil he was causing because he leaned around the door jam with a large smile and whistled. More to get her to turn more then anything.
"Hey Leela. I found someone while I was out and he followed me all the way back here. Can we keep him?"
Her flood of relief was bit down and she sighed. He really was such a big kid sometimes it was almost pitiful. "No, we can't keep him."
"Are you sure?"
She didn't have time to think of a reason to say no. She didn't even have time to think about how odd it was that he already had a leash in his hand when a small body hopped into the room.
"Nibbler!"
He struggled against his bond and Fry gave up on trying to hold him back and balance a bag of food on his arm, so he let go and hobbled in. Leela scooped up the alien and covered his head with kisses, getting a few cheek licks in return. Once the tide of emotions started to ebb and Nibbler was purring contently, she saw Fry was at a counter and clearing out a bag from Fishy Joe's.
"Okay, I meant it when I said I can't cook so I just got some burgers. I was out anyway to get the little poop machine and when I passed it sounded good."
He paused, and then very nearly stuck his face into the bag to see just how many fries had fallen loose. There was a rule of fast food he'd heard once that stated whoever bought the food got first dibs on anything that wasn't in the container it was supposed to be in. He didn't bother to pull his nose out of the bag as he attempted to recall the exact words when he felt Leela nuzzle the back of his neck.
"Thank you."
Now, he wasn't sure if it was her noticeable lack of real clothes, the warmth of her breath, or the fact that no one had ever really been grateful for something he'd meant to do (he never really counted saving everyone from Roberto because he'd been a little 'robot-y' at the time). It may have been any combination of the three, but he got chills.
"Hey," he chuckled. "It's just food. Not a big deal."
He felt her shake her head. "I don't mean the food, but thank you for that too. I mean Nibbler."
"Oh that. The vet called and said he was better. I knew if I brought him back it'd make you happy."
Always trying to make me happy. She kissed his neck, carrying her remaining pet into her room and yelling through the door. "What was wrong with him?"
"They didn't know. Just that last night he was sick and this morning he was better."
A span of time later, Fry hadn't kept track because he still had his food to occupy him, Leela had donned her usual outfit and opened her door. They were both quiet as they sat on the bed, though for different reasons. For his part, Fry just didn't want to get into what had transpired. But after picking up a mewling animal, having a meal, and settling into the cushiony sheets, he knew there was nothing left to do. Leela did as well.
"Okay, that's enough stalling." She picked up her leg and held her knee to her chest, watching him as if she'd dreamt him up and he was about to disappear like a wisp of smoke. "What happened?"
Fry sighed, almost in defeat, and lied back to watch the ceiling. "You're not going to like this."
She shook her head. "I don't care. I want to know."
"Alright." He closed his eyes as he began to get everything straight. "It's like this..."
Fry started off his long tale with a part of the day Leela didn't know about. Tracking down the antidote and having to leave it behind when he was so close all because she'd found him out. He patted her hand when she opened her mouth to apologize, knowing if he stopped talking he might loose what little constructive thought he had. After that, he slipped it into his pocket and took a deep breath.
"I was awake for a while after you fell asleep. I thought about trying to sneak out and get back to Planet Express so I could get dressed, but then I just gave up. I figured if it was going to work out, it was going to work out."
His eyes opened and he yawned. Somehow, he'd ended up lying across Leela's chest with his lower legs turned one way and his front the other. Not caring how that happened, but marveling at how flexible he was, he lifted his head off her shoulder to look at the clock. It was 6:30 a.m.
"I felt really thirsty, so I got up to get a drink. It was kind of funny, I didn't get any reaction from you; you were out."
It didn't take him long to figure out he could use his reflexes to his advantage. After all, being the cat form of himself meant he was lazier then all get out. He sunk his claws into the sheet, and then simply pulled himself forward. A few turns of this and he braced his fuzzy body at the edge of the bed. Then he just fell over, allowing his muscles to tense as they saw fit and land him on his paws.
'Being a cat rocks,' he thought to himself as he effortlessly sprung up and opened the door.
"I don't know what made me go to the kitchen instead of the bathroom. It's farther away. Maybe I just wasn't thinking."
"That wouldn't surprise me," Leela retorted.
His hand shifted around in his pocket and he narrowed his left eye to match his right in a mock glare. "Who's telling this story?"
Leela smiled and raised her hands in a show of defeat. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry."
"Where was I..? Oh yeah."
He'd played with the water just because he knew he wouldn't get in trouble for it. After all, he was just an animal that didn't know any better. Eventually, he jumped off the sink and began to mosey to the bedroom. That was when a low thud, followed by a curse got his attention. When he turned, he had to squint against a flashlight beam right in his face. Once his eyes adjusted like he knew they would, he could make out two forms: one was thinner then the other and it was the larger that had him blinded a moment ago.
"Someone was in my apartment?" Leela was none too pleased about this information. Her parents keeping tabs on her and Fry sneaking in as an animal were one thing, but she had always felt that her home was like the physical manifestation of her ability to keep herself protected. And someone got in without her knowing.
Fry reached out for her shoulder to calm her. "It surprised me too, but they weren't here long. If you think I look bad, you should see the other guy; only two of the spots of blood are mine." He actually smiled at this, desperately trying to play down his injuries.
"What's up with this," a voice hissed. "I thought she took that fleabag to work with her."
"Who cares, it's just a cat," the other answered. "What can he really do?"
Fry could feel the fur along his spine stand and his muscles flex angrily. What he was less aware of was his eyes glowing eerily back at the intruders. 'It's those guys from the other day,' he thought. 'What's-their-names...Paul and Spencer? What the hell are they doing here?'
Spencer took a step closer to him, trying to sound friendly. "Hey there little guy. Just be cool. Don't make any noise and I won't have to paste you one. Paulie, grab the cat and throw him in a sack so he won't bother us."
The thinner man held up his hand, something in it shining. "Do I have to? You said yourself he's just a cat." He started swinging his arm around casually and Fry saw he was armed with a butterfly knife. A very old butterfly knife, no one in the 31st century even knew what those were.
"I said, grab him. He's in the way and I want to know what's in that room."
Paul groaned, sounding not unlike a certain Doop Amphibian, as Fry looked back at the door. 'Leela!' The tabby took a step back to brace himself, puffed up, and folded his ears backward. 'You want her? You're going to have to go through me! A very small and fuzzy me,' he thought meekly. 'This is going to be bad.'
"You fought them as a cat?!" Leela was shocked, yet again, and stood to pace in front of her bed. "What were you thinking?"
Fry sat up and simply shrugged. "That I care too much about you to just let someone walk in on you sleeping without a fight?"
A vicious spit was enough to make Paul stop in his tracks and question his particular line of 'work'. "I don't know about this man, cat scratches get infected real easy."
Spencer pushed his cohort out of the way with a force that made Fry think maybe they weren't family after all. Not that something like that mattered at a time like this. "Fine, I'll do it you sissy. Scared of a pussy cat. Go see what's in the kitchen. And don't make any noise."
Fry held his gaze on the man, then the second mention of sound got his little cogs turning. If he could wake Leela up, she could kick their asses and everything would be okay. After she got her locks changed anyway. His eyes flicked to her door, but back to Spencer when he saw a hand coming toward him. He must have thought that if he moved slowly enough, a dumb cat wouldn't think of it as a threat. Fry took full advantage.
He lashed out, landing half a dozen blows in about a second. Spencer managed to keep his teeth clenched as he pulled his hand to his chest, a tight hold on his wrist. A quick inspection with a flashlight showed small beads of red coming through his skin. "You stupid..."
Fry figured he was going to finish that sentence with 'cat', but he didn't want to stick around to find out. With one bound he was at the bedroom door, scratching and yowling to beat the band.
'Leela! Wake up! I know you can't hear me, but wake up!'
Spencer nearly dove forward and yanked Fry up by the scruff of his neck. "I told you to keep quiet or I'd...
Paul leaned his head out of the kitchen and grinned. "Need some help with the kitty, cuz?"
Fry protested lowly and kicked his back legs in an attempt to get free. "No I don't need help. Just hurry up and let's get out of here, I'm bleedARRG!"
Leela was back on the bed, petting Nibbler for comfort. She couldn't change what had already happened, but that didn't mean she was just going to sit calmly as she heard about her friend getting hurt. "What happened to him?"
"He took his eyes off me, so I started swinging to see if I could get a hold on him. Luckily I knew how much I could spin around." Fry held up his hands and made a rotating motion, mimicking his former body's movements. "I turned my legs, then curled up as much as I could. My back claws went right into his arm and he let go of my neck."
The top half of Fry's frame went to neutral and he sunk the remainder of his claws just below Spencer's wrist. He would have aimed higher, but that looked like a better target for his teeth. He tasted blood, heard a stifled yell, and then heard glass shatter before the younger man rushed in. "What?"
He was being shaken while he heard a string of curses in a foreign language. The only thing he understood was the muffled, 'Get him off!" Paul flipped open his butterfly knife before Spencer could protest and swung, giving Fry the gash on his leg. Through his painful haze, he could hear the men arguing about the reckless swinging of sharp objects and how others could be hit in the process.
He wasn't sure what happened next. First he saw stars, which was caused by Spencer hauling off and punching him in the face. Then he growled when his left foreleg started to be pulled backward by Paul. All he knew was he could barely think because of the mind-numbing pain and finally his legs gave out. After he thumped on the floor, he hissed weakly and edged back to the bedroom door with his injured legs barely touching the ground.
"That was how that puddle of blood got in front of the door," Leela asked quietly. "You're leg was bleeding?"
Fry shook his head, grinning even as he ran his hand across the stitches on his leg under his pants. "It wasn't that bad. It's a smear, not a puddle. All the mess you're worried about was when he started shaking his arm around. Blood was flying everywhere; one drop even hit me between the eyes." He stood and stretched, willing to go through the ache for the sake of his circulation.
Leela ticked off his wounds on her fingers. "That's only three. Your eye, your leg, and your arm. What happened to your chest?"
"Oh," Fry whispered. "That. Well..." He thought about just what happened next and decided to skip. What he didn't want her to know was Spencer had intended to kill him. He snatched the knife and, were it not for his panicked partner, he would have flayed the animal and turned him into a hat. Those were his exact words: a hat. "He got closer to me and I attacked."
They were arguing. Paul was saying they should just take off now and nothing Leela had could be worth getting caught. Spencer, flinging blood around, was trying to make the point that no one hurt him and got away with it. Not even a kitty. Said kitty was thus left to his own devices. All the instincts he'd been following were saying run. They'd been saying run since he got a light in the face, or at least get a shot in so they knew he meant business and then run. But his ever-present humanity told him he was the only thing that could keep two thieves away from his unconscious friend. He struggled into a wobbly stance and managed a lunge, attaching himself to Spencer's leg with all available claws and teeth.
This time he couldn't completely contain his shout of pain, and he started kicking purposely to dislodge the animal. "Get. Off. Me!" With only two good paws, Fry was sent flying at the last kick. His body did what it always did when he was in the air, but this time it over-compensated and he slammed sidelong into the wall. A high shriek of pain and then a low groan as he hit the floor was the only sound he was capable of.
"That was the worst of it. It felt like someone stabbed a hot knife between my ribs." Fry ran his hand through his hair nervously as he started to get a warm creeping sensation from his gut, as if just thinking about it would bring on another bout of pain. Seeing how well it worked for Leela, he reached out and gave Nibbler a scratch.
That was when Spencer had called for Fry's skin. He was completely helpless, but Paul was just the right kind of lackey: a wimp.
"Spence...man, we gotta get out of here. Somebody had to have heard you that time."
Fry wheezed and tried to focus on something else as he heard thudding and ultimately the crash of the door coming down on the small lamp. He wasn't sure how he managed the feat, but he ended up back on the bed with a powerful urge to just collapse into the pillow. Leela was still enjoying her medicated sleep much to Fry's relief and he watched her for a moment before the tickle of blood oozing through his fur pulled his attention to his leg.
'Oh that's perfect.' He lapped the slow moving fluid away, hoped the spot he didn't catch wouldn't stain the bed spread, and then pressed his muzzle to Leela's upper lip. 'Bye Leela. I'd like to stay, but if I don't go now I get the feeling something worse will happen to me. I'll see you later. I hope...' He hobbled off the bed, through the living room, and squeezed himself under the door with only the foggiest of ideas of what he was going to do.
Once out of the building, Fry headed toward Planet Express. Not only because it held the antidote, but because it was one of three places where he felt he really belonged there. The other two: his shared place with Bender and wherever Leela was (Bender would never let that die if he found out) were sort of out of the question at the moment. So, onward he trudged.
Finding the serum wasn’t hard because, against his current streak of luck, it was right where he left it. It was getting it away and open that caused a fair amount of trouble. The gash on his leg had started to scab up, but it was still squishy enough to keep him moving slowly lest he bleed everywhere. As for a safe transformation place, he settled for the tiny bathroom by the hangar without realizing he wouldn’t be able to turn the lock.
After maneuvering himself into a mostly comfortable position against the wall, he stood the tube upright and held it in place with his front paws so he could assault the stopper with his teeth. He hadn’t thought twice about this approach because it seemed the most like what he’d do as a human. Just when his jaw was getting so sore he thought it’d fall off, the cork came free with a satisfying ‘pop’.
“You weren’t afraid of anyone finding you?” Leela asked. “Or did you just not care about that?”
Fry shrugged. “A little bit of both. I followed Hermes in when he unlocked the building, but he didn’t notice me. He’s always in his office doing paperwork until the morning meeting and I knew the Professor was still asleep, so I figured I was in the clear.”
Sniffing the concoction, the animal had to stop himself from gagging. ‘Oh man, that smells worse then a wet dog that’s been eaten by Zoidberg and spit back up. Do I really have to drink this gunk?’ He began racking his kitty brain, hoping Farnsworth said something specific about the mixture’s application. It hit him then that he had.
‘He said they injected it,’ Fry thought with relief. ‘And that first dart shot me; it must have to go right into my blood to work.’ His former positive mood rolled out like a wave on the beach as one detail came back to him. After being in a new shape long enough to acclimate quite nicely to it, it had taken him a moment to remember cats lack thumbs. And that meant nothing to push on a needle with even if he could find one. He slumped, succumbing to the hopelessness of it all, and winced at a tug on his leg.
‘Stupid cut! Hey, what a second.’
“That was when I got the idea to press the stuff into my leg. I figured it was worth a shot.”
“Because you never get a good idea before you get hurt,” Leela interjected.
Fry wasn’t sure how true that statement was because he didn’t have a real scale for good or bad ideas; he just got ideas and he thought all were worth trying. “You don’t know if it was good. How do you know it worked?”
He was kidding. At least, she thought he was. He had to be, even Fry wasn’t that stupid. “Well of course it worked. You’re sitting right in front of me, aren’t you?”
After a moment of staring, he looked himself over as if he had to make sure she was right. “Oh yeah.” He didn't see her roll her eye at his revelation.
The orange beast set himself to the lengthy and stinging task of removing his scab by licking it away. Once he got blood flowing, he carefully tipped the vial and coated his paw with the antidote. He expected the application would hurt like all medications that were supposed to help you, but it felt cool. It tingled as well, but he didn’t have long to enjoy it before he lost consciousness.
He wasn’t on the floor for long, but when he did wake he was surprised at the speed with which he was changing. The room seemed a size or two smaller and he saw his expanding body had pushed the test tube a few feet away. While reaching for it, Fry noted that he had what could now be called thumbs and he wiggled them joyously. He didn’t much care that the rest of his hands, along with his body, were still covered in rusty fur.
Most of the antidote was lost to the dirty floor, but Fry didn’t care much. He didn’t think he’d need all of it anyway based on how fast he was making the transition from critter to human. Then he thought that if just that little bit could reverse what happened, maybe more would serve to get him back to normal even faster than that. It certainly couldn’t hurt matters. So the dregs were dumped on his wound before he unceremoniously staggered out.
While being injured was nothing new, the urge to hide until his pain subsided was. As was his mode of transportation. Fry hadn’t been bipedal for four days and while he was still walking on his toes, he wasn’t nearly as wobbly as he expected he’d be. The whole deal felt right and so far his instincts hadn’t failed him, so he resolved to keep doing what his body told him to do. Right after he found some clothes.
“I thought I’d be normal in no time, but I guess the changes started slowing down.” Fry had been lying down, shifting intermittently to keep his good appendages from falling asleep. “I wanted to find my clothes, but I wasn’t sure where they were. Luckily I keep an extra pair of underpants in my locker in case of emergency.”
While he had the hindrance of having one good eye, his vision was as clear as ever. It was his mind that was fuzzy: processing information at a slow rate which resulted in him having to really focus on his locker code. He wasn’t sure what had been the deciding factor when the Professor changed the locks to number pads and then back to combination locks, but whatever it may have been he wished it a long, painful death.
“It took me four tries to get it open,” he admitted, getting a feel of frustration again just thinking about it. “I used that mirror I’ve got in there to get my first real look at myself. I was still mostly cat.”
His face had distinct human shape. It was only everything else that was catty: the high sitting pointy ears, the whiskers, the long canine teeth which rested in a slightly protruding muzzle, and the fur. It all looked pretty good on him in his opinion. In the end though, he knew none of his new cat features would stay forever, so he took the mirror down to get a good look at his tail before it shrunk completely into his back. After getting a kick out of watching it sway back and forth, he finally put his mirror back, slipped into his underwear (with convenient tail hole ), closed his locker, and headed into the long hallway.
It was a strange feeling, trying to walk while his muscles and joints were reforming themselves. He leaned against the wall as his torso lengthened; his spine feeling like it was being stretched like a rubber band. Added pressure in the catman’s ankles made him drop to all fours, but after a few soft pops, he was able to right himself easily. He then continued on, relying much more heavily on his heels.
“With everything that happened,” Leela posed, “when did you find the time to e-mail Amy and me?”
“That was when I was human again,” Fry told her. “I used the computer that the Professor had installed in the conference table. I didn’t plan to e-mail Amy too, but I was so tired I forgot to warn you about those burglar guys. When I was done I went into the lounge to take a nap on the couch. I woke up in a hospital, we went back to Planet Express, then we came here, then it was now, and then I don’t know what happened.”
He wiggled his fingers in his pocket again, feeling a great sense of relief now that the whole ordeal was out in the open. Leela seemed to be taking it well, until Nibbler decided he was going to act up and hop crazily next to the redhead’s hip. This drew his owner’s attention.
“Fry, why do you keep playing with your pocket?”
“Um.” His good hand froze as he threw a glare at the little alien. He hadn’t gotten the nerve quite as fast as he thought he would, so he wasn’t entirely ready to bring it up and now it had been turned into the focus.
“Fry?”
“I didn’t leave this morning to get Nibbler or our food. When the vet called I decided to use that as a cover to go…” The delivery boy pulled his hand free and, after a little shuffling to get it right side up, held out a small jewelry box. “Get you this.”
Leela gawked, simultaneously hopeful and scared out of her mind about what that box held. “Fry, you didn’t.”
He had to look between her and the box twice before he understood what she meant. “No, I didn’t. What makes you think I could afford… just open it.” He shook his hand, wobbling the small container across his fingers and no longer apprehensive in the least bit about giving it to her. And he didn’t mind the last suspicious look she gave him.
Leela swung the little top on its even smaller hinge and got the feeling she should have seen this coming, but for some reason it hadn’t crossed her mind. She lifted the charm and looked past it at Fry while it spun slowly. “You went to that antique shop just to get this?”
“I had to,” he answered plainly. “I knew how much you wanted it. I told you about something I wanted, you sort of told me about a charm you wanted for your bracelet… and now we’re both happy.”
“I was already happy, you idiot.” The normally tough captain had to fight the urge to tear up over a piece of metal. She’d wanted it for so long, owning it had turned into some kind of dream. “Fry, I think it’s worth mentioning that I’m not hugging you because I know it would put you in an insane amount of pain.”
“A little hug would be okay…”
“Trust me, insane.” She snapped opened her wrist computer and exposed her bracelet, but when she saw how closely Fry was watching her she stopped herself mid-clip and shook the charm. ”You want to do it?”
“Nah, it’s okay.” He smiled and watched the bit of metal dangle after it was securely hooked. It was interesting to see how as it moved the little crystal moon changed color. First it was blue, then it looked like it flashed green, and finally it stopped on a red so dark it was hard to tell it wasn’t black. Of course, while the face was turned toward him, the back was in Leela’s direction.
“You got it engraved too?”
“It’s engraved?” He asked. She nodded and turned the charm, pointing out two small words on the back. “’Anum Cara’? What’s that, some kind of alien language?”
“I don’t think so, the letters are Earthican.” She dropped her arm and shrugged. “Oh well. Whatever it says, I’ll just assume that it’s alien for ‘I love you.’”
“Good. Because I do.”
“I know.” Leela smiled, then got a slightly evil idea, and scooted closer to Fry. She gave him a hug that turned into a firm squeeze. “I love you too.”
“Ow,” Fry chuckled as he half struggled to get away. “Leela, come on, stop. That hurts.”
She kissed his cheek. “I warned you.”
