Zed is still trying to figure out how the hell he ended up in a charity gig for the goddamn bar. Must have been some fit of insanity. Or maybe some bastard spiked his drink. Anything's possible.
But now that he has to sort through the damn bids, he figures he ought to find out what the hell people have in mind before he agrees to one of them. With this bunch, you never can be too careful.
Goldy would have to be high on that list, though. It's not like Zed hasn't noticed she's hot--he's just not about to admit it to her face. And since he knows K is supposed to have some sort of dinner date with her coming up, that's a good incentive to get a one up on the guy.
Which is why Zed finds himself outside Room 111 and knocking on the door...
But now that he has to sort through the damn bids, he figures he ought to find out what the hell people have in mind before he agrees to one of them. With this bunch, you never can be too careful.
Goldy would have to be high on that list, though. It's not like Zed hasn't noticed she's hot--he's just not about to admit it to her face. And since he knows K is supposed to have some sort of dinner date with her coming up, that's a good incentive to get a one up on the guy.
Which is why Zed finds himself outside Room 111 and knocking on the door...
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"Oh, hello," she greets, "I wasn't sure if you'd show up or not."
Judging by her happy smile though, she's glad that he did.
Apparently, she had a pretty swanky date in mind when she bid on Zed, as indicated by the glamorous dress she's squeezed herself into. And when we say 'squeezed' we actually mean 'shattered the laws of physics'. Maybe Zed, with all his knowledge of multiversal science, knows how her ample bosom is staying within the confines of the flimsy material, and not spilling out for all the world to see. Because this narrator certainly doesn't.
"Come in," she says, standing aside. "I'm not quite ready yet."
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"Nice place," he finally manages to say--after she's already headed back to finish off whatever last touches she's planning. He spends the time eyeballing the sumptuous armchairs, and finally picks one to settle in.
Well, that was a mistake. Now he's not sure he's leaving it.
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"I just upgraded. I'm rather fond of it myself."
She saunters back into the living area and over to the liquor cabinet.
"Bourbon, I presume?"
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Fuck! This thing's worse than an Engulfer from Vixtix III.
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"There you go," she says as she hands the drink to Zed.
She then returns to the makeshift bar area, and starts fixing herself a Singapore Sling.
"So, what's new with you, Zee?"
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"I'd rather talk about the mayhem Walters and Maxwell and the rest of you are going to inflict on each other once my people get the Rollerball arena trials done."
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She gives the mixer a lazy shake, then strains the contents into the waiting glass.
"I've got a couple of other willing volunteers. Batgirl and Mary Anne Bell. Both rank highly in the kick-ass female stakes."
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"Just have to see if I can get Bill Pardy to strap on some body armor and get himself into the middle of it," Zed chuckles.
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"Or some numskull who needs to get pulverized by a force of hot chicks and little guys with great hair."
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"But that doesn't mean I can't fuck with his head now and then."
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"That's not very nice," she then advances, her tone as smooth as silk. She's smirking of course, as if that needs to be confirmed. "A fine upstanding Agent like yourself, fucking with people's heads for no reason. I thought you delegated such despicable behavior to nasty characters like me."
Truth be known, she's pleased by the fact that he engages in it himself.
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"'Sides, tell me you don't do the same to Brown every chance you get."
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"I'm all about equal rights when it comes to fucking with people's heads. Some people are easier targets than others though. The more gullible they are, the more fun it is to fuck with them. And Steph rates pretty highly on the gullibility scale."
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"Come on, Zee. She knows I love her, and she fucks with me just as much in return. Perhaps not quite as competently, but it's the thought that counts."
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"Regardless, we're always standing by for a hook up with righteous destruction and/or missions that necessitate excessive use of firepower and other force."
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"Incapacitate a perp today, you'll just have to do it again next time. But blast that son-of-a-bitch's head clean off, and that'll last a lifetime."
"Your, lifetime, anyway."
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"You don't have to tell me."
"I don't know too much about her though. We've never really talked about it. I saw her punch a grenade into a Black Oil infected bug's eye socket when we were cleaning up at your place. So there may be exceptions to her standard moral code."
She offers a shrug.
"Regardless, she's still a pretty useful gal to have at your side in a combat situation."
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"You don't fuck with success."
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But, even if that escapes notice, her first statement is a big clue to her identity. Or at least to her heritage.
"Mommy. Drink," she mumbles, and blindly holds out a sippy cup. Her other hand is hugging a very feral looking teddy bear to her chest.
"Oh. You're up," Goldy says. And then sighs. "Okay."
She leaves the couch and heads over to the infant.
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To his credit, Zed does not leap out of his chair. He even tries out a smile, and while it's not the most convincing, "Oh look, it's a kid," expression in the known galaxy, it does at least make him look vaguely friendly.
As for saying something, that won't be happening for a while yet.
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She turns her attentions back to Eleanor, taking the empty cup and then patting her bottom.
"Wow. You're still dry," she utters in amazement.
"Well done, Short Stuff! I'm glad to see you're on board with the plan of leaving all diaper changes for daddy or babysitters."
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And as imagery goes, that's not that far from the truth. But eventually:
"What--?"
"Who--?"
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"Meet Eleanor," she says. "The product of my past sex with the ultra-fertile Greek god of love."
"And before you ask, he took the embryo out of my womb before I even knew I was pregnant, without bothering to inform me, and subsequently gestated and birthed her himself. I only met her a few weeks ago."
She looks down at her daughter.
"Sunshine, that's your Granpaw Zed. He polices aliens with Uncle K, and always pretends to be really grumpy. But he's actually quite a nice guy underneath the act. He also has access to some of the best shampoos and conditioners in the multiverse. So don't be pissing him off."
Eleanor squints at Zed.
Then looks away and yawns.
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"Your squirt's got a defective attitude."
Yawn at him, will she?
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"She only inherited my best qualities."
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"Took the embryo out of your womb, eh? He been punched in the balls for that yet?"
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Goldy leaves Eleanor in order to fill her cup with milk.
"I'm surprised at you, Zee. I thought you knew me better than to have to ask such a question."
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"Never know. Could've started with the kneecaps first, save the nut crunch for last. Give the fucker something to look forward to."
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"Well, he's a god," Goldy replies.
"It's not like physical pain really affects him. There's some initial shock if you catch him unawares. Which I did. But he can dull out anything beyond that if he wants to, so I didn't really see the point."
The microwave beeps and the cup is removed and delivered back to Eleanor.
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Hell of a universe Goldy's got.
But then Zed's universe isn't doing so hot either. As he'll find out once Goldy answers that knock at the door.
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Eleanor shakes her head.
"No?" Goldy says. "Okay. Fair enough."
She's not going to be the Fable's problem for much longer anyway, so it doesn't matter to her in the slightest. She leaves her daughter once again, this time to answer the door. And when she does, the following cheerful greeting is loosed:
"K! You made it."
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"And how are the two loveliest ladies of Milliways tonight?"
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She leans over to peck K's cheek as Eleanor takes in the visitor.
"Unca K!" she yells through an ecstatic beam of her own, and starts running over towards him.
This action wouldn't meet with the greatest success if she was fully awake, but in her half-asleep state it ends with a tumble before she even travels three steps. Unperturbed, she rights herself quickly and finishes the journey.
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K's not the hugging sort, but there are always exceptions.
Zed, meanwhile, watches this new development with confusion, then horror, then outrage. By the time Eleanor is halfway across the room, Zed's jaw has dropped far enough to pass a Balthusian Razorcat.
By the time his fellow Man in Black is getting a big squeeze, Zed's fast-rising temp erupts with a volcanic:
"WHAT THE FUCK!?!"
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Apart from that, she completely ignores Zed.
"As you can see, the babysitter is here," she informs K. "Where are we going?"
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"Hell of a guy. You'll get to meet him when he comes out after the ninth course."
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She stoops to pick up her daughter and proceeds to carry her over to Zed.
"Okay Sunshine, mommy's going out with Uncle K. Granpaw Zed is here to look after you. So be good, and I'll be back tomorrow at some point."
"Probably."
She then foists the child into Zed's lap and reels off some instructions.
"Diapers are in the bathroom, milk and baby food are in the fridge. There's a truckload of booze in the liquor cabinet, and plenty of other food around the kitchen. Please don't neuralize her unless you really have to."
And with that the Fable starts back for the front door.
It's possible that Eleanor is just as unhappy about this situation as the enraged Agent she's being left with. Her lip starts to wobble and she reaches out in vain for the departing couple. "Unca K!" she wails, seeking his help when it becomes apparent that her mother is being a heartless bitch again.
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As for Zed, he's staring at Eleanor as if Goldy had dumped the aforementioned Balthusian Razorcat right on his sack.
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"Have fun, sweetie! I know I'm going to."
And the door swings shut.
It re-opens a second later, but only for Goldy to poke her head in and offer the following:
"He's turning his MiBlackberry off, so don't even bother trying to contact us."
This time the door shuts and stays shut.
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Sadly, the two are not in harmony. But they've got plenty of time to work on that.