drabble post!
I am officially addicted to the net; I just can't stay away. So, since I will be entirely knackered by the time I get home, I thought I'd start putting up some of the finished drabbles now. I still have ten to go.
They should have known better than to give Noroku the loudspeaker.
"The first annual Camp Fuck U Die Mothering competition, and homage to all women maternally inclined, will shortly begin. Will the contestants please take their places."
"We're already in Boy's Cabin 10. How much more in place do they want us to be? Poised with a pair of socks?"
"Competing for the title of Camp Mother is the resident mother of Boy's Cabin 10 - Oscar Himejima! Give him a big hand folks!"
"OSCAR! OSCAR! HE'S OUR MAN! IF HE CAN'T DO IT, NO ONE CAN!"
Oscar put a perfectly manicured hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically. "Ikkaku. Go die. Preferably as quickly as possible."
"Not until I see you with that trophy in hand - FOR THE HONOUR OF THE CABIN!"
"... what honour?"
"Wait, there's a trophy now?"
"Our challenger is one-time mother Kon-El, also known as Superboy, whose tentacled offspring is well known amongst the camper community as being a child."
"One time parent. Parent."
"I have faith in your mothering abilities, Kon! Knock them dead!"
"... thanks Buffy."
"The challenge is simple. Both contestants will be placed in the cabin with the designated child for the challenge. The first contestant to succeed in putting the child to bed, will be the winner. Contestants are encouraged to make use of any special skills or talents they possess-"
Kon elbowed Oscar subtly. "Hope you stocked up on socks."
"12 pairs. You think that will cover it?"
"It has to. The sooner we lay this stupid mother thing to rest the better."
"-and judging is courtesy of the alluring Ms Urameshi, an experienced mother."
"Ha ha ha, you guys are doomed."
"A magical seal has been placed around the cabin, nothing will pass in or out of it during the duration of the contest save the designated child. You will be observed via magical mirror, courtesy of Francescu Gargamel and -"
"Wait, you never said anything about -"
"And the competition is underway. Good luck to our contestants, and may I take this opportunity to remark on how beautiful the ladies of camp look on this fine occasion."
"That's it?" Oscar asked.
"That's it," Kon said, though he sounded just as uncertain. "Sounds like they've got something planned."
"Whatever it is, it can't be too terrible," Oscar sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than really sure. "Kal, even at his worst, is manageable."
"Yeah, good luck," Kon said, making himself comfortable on Bart's bunk, and flipping through the comic book left closest to hand.
"You're not even going to try?"
"Hey, we tossed for it, you lost," Kon shrugged. "Both of us agreed that the sooner we gave in and went along with the stupid competition, the better … you know what happened to Kimimaro."
Oscar sat down on the edge of his bunk. "I wish I didn't. Who could imagine that a simple bake-off could result in such tragedy."
"It's a sad world we live in," said Kon and the two of them were silent awhile, reflecting on the fate of ninjas who refused to bake.
The silence was broken by a soft pop, like a bottle being uncorked. However, the personage accompanying the sound was rather unexpected.
"Oh holy fuck we're doomed." Kon's horror was obvious.
Oscar approached cautiously. "It's just Bart," he said. "How bad can it be-"
"Mommy!"
In the time it took Oscar to blink, kid!Bart was across the room, having launched himself at Kon's ankles. "Mommymommymommywannahug," he announced.
"Doomed like very doomed things. Did I mention we were doomed?"
"You're doomed," Oscar smirked, flicking back his hair smugly. "He called you Mom-" He looked down to find Bart wrapped around his feet and beaming at him. "Udda Mommy."
"What the - please tell me you don't think I'm Ash."
"Other," Kon translated. "Congratulations, Mom."
"Stuff you too." Oscar gingerly picked Bart up. As he didn't spontaneously combust or burst into flames, he figured this was a good sign. "Shall we put you to bed then, Bart?"
He was caught entirely unaware by the tantrum this produced.
"No bed, no bed, no wanna beeeeeeed -"
Bart was just so slippery. Oscar was trying to keep hold of him but he had to set him down on the floor before he dropped him. "It's not so bad. I'll tell you a story and -"
It was as though the cabin had just gained an ankle high tornado.
"Nosleepnosleepgonnastayuplateandplaynottiredyettttt-"
"Nicely done."
"Oh shut up," Oscar gingerly set about trying to restore peace. "Now Bart - just settle down for a moment-"
He was still restoring peace a good thirty minutes later.
"I" Kon announced to no one in particular. "Have something in my hand."
"Good for you," Oscar was frazzled. "Some help would be appreciated here."
Kon stuck his tongue out at Oscar, and went back to examine the something cradled in his hand. "Just for that, I'm not going to tell you what it is."
"Too bad there isn't an award for biggest camp child," Oscar said, pausing as he realized the rush of wind that was Bart tearing around the cabin faster than light speed had paused as Bart tried to peer up into Kon's hand.
"What's it?" He asked, tugging at Kon's leg. "Wanna see. Lemme seeee."
Kon gave him a considering glance then knelt. "It's secret, right," he said all seriousness. "You can't tell Oscar. Okay?"
Bart giggled. "Okay."
"Oh, that's mature."
With all due drama, Kon turned to Bart. "It's a … tickle attack!"
Bart squealed, Oscar sighed. "Perfect. Just what we need to do - get him more hyped up."
"What's that, Oscar? Didn't get tickled enough as a kid?" Kon paused his assault on a giggling Bart. "You know what this means, Bart?"
"We's gotta teach 'em?"
"Oh, no." Oscar backed up against the cabin door. "No no no."
"Hey," Kon said. "It's a sad world."
"I hate you so much right now. Just so you know."
Tickling Oscar into incoherency was followed by playing pony rides with a winded Oscar coerced into the role of horse, Kon making random things float and drop for Bart's amusement, and finally, Kon reading Bart the comic book, complete with sound effects.
"I don't believe this," Oscar said as Kon put the comic down to show Bart snuggled up against his side, sleeping angelically. "All you did was get him excited. I was the one trying to get him to sleep -"
"Wore him out," Kon said smugly, carefully scooping Bart up and handing him over to Oscar. "All yours. Bed him and we can get the hell out of here."
The loudspeaker crackled with an abruptness that made them both jump. "The contest is over with a clear winner," Noroku announced. "The title of Camp Mother goes to Kon-El -"
"What? I don't want it -"
"Judges decision is unanimous and final. Congratulations to the runner up contestant, Oscar Himejima for effort. A prize of a frilly apron will be delivered to you soon."
"Just what I always wanted."
"And now it's time for the next competition - will Ash and Tomo please stand by for Camp Fuck U Die's first pie eating competition."
---
“Poor Sukekiyo - how frightened he must have been. It was very good of you to bring him back, Kudou-san.”
“It was nothing really - ow! I know a thing or two about being stuck in a tree,” Kazahaya admitted as Minagawa administered another plaster.
“If only Sukekiyo had reacted with a little more gratitude,” the cook said, dabbing at the remaining scratches with antiseptic. “Still … I would like to repay you.”
“Oh! No need - I didn't do it for thanks,” Kazahaya protested.
“Nonetheless,” Minagawa said, pulling a small straw doll and a handful of pins from his vest. “Have I mentioned to you my recipe for improved partner relationships? Pine flavoured.”
---
"Let me get this straight," Lady said carefully. "You have friends, celebrity, hell, team-mates in your world. Me, I have demons and the very real threat of the Apocalypse. And you're asking --"
"Begging."
"--begging if you can come hang out in my world. Why? Was the grimness, the hostilty, hell the death and destruction not obvious enough? Maybe I should go rustle up a welcome party of demonic creatures intent on your destruction."
"Geez, anyone would think you weren't happy to see me."
Lady took a deep breath, reminded herself that it was Kon and shooting him wouldn't do any good. "Kon. Why are you here."
Some shuffling followed (impressive while air-bourne) and Kon admitted that Clark had adopted him officially. "Like legally and everything. We went to this court and signed papers and I had to wear a tie."
Lady pondered shooting him just for the satisfaction of it -- he could still feel the bullets after all. "This is the guy you already look up to aqn drespect as a father anyway, right? What's the problem?"
"Luthor threatened to take him to court for custody of me. 'Cause he can back it up with the paternity claim, whereas Clark can't, not without jeopardising his identity."
"So why can't Superman adopt you?"
"Alien."
"Ah." Lady wondered if shooting one or both of Kon's donors would help the situation any. "So he's blackmailing Clark and you figured that if you're here he's got nothing to hurt Clark with."
"... yeah, let's go with that."
God, why wasn't Buffy here to deal with this? Lady massaged her temples. "Why Kon."
"Out of court settlement. The terms? He wants joint custody. Clark? Thinks we'd be a good influence on each other. Apparently I could use some forethought."
"How the hell does letting you hang out with a known super villain with a track record of pushing all your non-thinking buttons sound like a good idea?"
"... Luthor liked Clark's latest book."
"..."
"They're having dinner tonight to discuss my academic record."
"..."
"I quit school ages ago. I don't have an academic record."
"... ah."
"So can I stay?"
"God forbid you get an education." But either Bart had worn down her resistance or absence could make her grow fonder of even Kon. "I suppose I could let you crash on my floor until Robin realises where you are and comes to drag you home."
"Thanks Lady; you're the best." And man, getting hugged in public was going to do nothing for her reputation. "Now, about that welcoming commitee?"
---
Note: basis for this drabble-like thing was Clark using x-ray vision to do a card trick for Lana on his pseudo date with her. >:D
"Pray explain to me one more time how this 'magic trick' of your world works."
"Okay. So I have a deck of cards and I spread them out -- like so."
"Adequately shuffled?"
"To a point, yeah. That's where the trick comes in."
"I think I begin to understand. And this is where you instruct me to 'pick a card-- any card' -- correct?"
"Just like that. Don't show me."
"And you will identify the card now?"
"Three of clubs."
"Correct again. And you are not casting by-sight?"
"You know I can't do magic."
"Are there perhaps mirrors involved? Or have you doctored the deck?"
"Nope."
"Then tell me. What is this card?"
"That's not a playing card."
"And yet I conjured it to resemble one in every respect save the reverse design. That rules out clever shuffling -- how did you do it, Clark?"
"A magician never reveals his secrets."
"Is that so?"
"It's a fact."
"One my father might have done well to follow. It's disconcerting how well known my family name is ... it was mirrors, wasn't it."
"... yeah, it was mirrors."
---
"Seriously, Clark. Public speaking is nothing to be afraid of."
"For you maybe. I'm not used to having everyone looking at me."
Lex smirked. "They're as scared of you as you are of them." At Clark's look he chuckled. "You really need to relax, tell yourself this is no big deal. While a lot of people will tell you to picture your audience naked, I always find that --"
Clark choked.
"Clark?"
"Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"... repeated some rather trite advice concerned with making you view your audience in a non-threatening light -- Clark? What's wrong? Take your hands off you eyes and look at me, Clark."
"..."
"... are you picturing me naked?"
"... no."
"You got a rather unpleasant mental image and now you can't stop picturing people without clothes."
"... no."
"You're bright red. This isn't helping your plausible deniability any."
"It's hot in here. I think your air-conditioning's bust."
"I see." Lex paused thoughtfully. "Would it help if I took my shirt off?"
"I can see fine from here."
"..."
"... uh."
"Enjoying the view, Clark?"
"Shut up."
---
ETA:
Muffled thud, startled exclamation, chinese swearwords. Clark blinked, disorientated, at his pillow. He didn't remember falling this time -- wait. Since when did he know how to swear in Chinese?
"And you call yourself a doctor? Turning away so cruelly -- no so coldly a person in need?"
"The only thing you need is a restraining strait-jacket! Compared to that, kicking you out of my bed is nothing --"
Mr Ayame had snuck into Simon's bed. Clark frowned blearily at his cabinmates. Did they know what time it was?
"Why if only you knew the torment that wracked this delicate frame through the long evenings--"
"And the pain you're inflicting upon us, now? It's not even 2 am, think of the girls -- you've already woken Clark."
Now he was going to get dragged into it. Clark groaned, seeing his chances of getting back to sleep without fuss grow steadily slimmer and -- unless ...
Mr Ayame was vocal but Clark wasn't entirely sure he was awake. He seemed more repetitive and less linear than usual -- were that possible. Sleep talking would back up his claims of sleep walking periodically in search of warmth ...
Simon for his part had turned his back on both Mr Ayame and Clark, making a valiant effort to tear his hair out by the roots. "It's not as thought I'm asking a lot. I do so much for camp at the hospital--"
Now.
Throw a blanket around Mr Ayame, pick him up, carry him through camp all at speed to the cabin where his male cousins slept in the hopes that he would at least climb into bed with a family member this time and speed back, settling back below his blankets before Simon had even turned around --
"rrreally," Simon said, time slipping back to normal. "I'm not without my rights and -- where did that wind come from? What happened? Where's Ayame--"
"He's gone," Clark supplied unhelpfully. It wasn't too much of an act to seem unaware -- the adrenalin of the quick run was fading fast upon his return to his bed.
"But he was just and I --" Simon sat down heavily on the end of Clark's bunk. "River -- the switch -- did I do that?"
Clark bit his lip. Laughing was not going to get him to sleep any earlier. "But that's impossible."
"Then how do you explain it?"
"I don't." Simon didn't seem willing to go back to sleep without some kind of explanation, so Clark extrapolated. "Maybe Mr Ayame just teleported himself somewhere warmer."
"The laws of physics -- matter -- motion -- clearly state that should be an impossibility --"
Clark threw a pillow at him.
---
Saying goodbye was hard. They'd made all the thank yous for being my friend, the promises to not forget each other and told each other that if there was a way to meet up again after camp, they would. All that was left now was the leaving.
Molly took off her bunny hat and put it on Bart's head. "There," she said. "You can keep this 'till I see you again." She said it stubbornly, half afraid she might cry but more afraid that Bart wouldn't want a stupid girly hat.
Bart looked as though she'd given him the crown jewels of England. "Molly," he said awed, then blurred out of sight, disappearing at light speed to return a moment later with his goggles. "Here. So you don't feel like something's missing without your -- oops."
They both looked at Molly's hat on the ground where it had fallen the instant Bart had run off.
"I'm really really sorry," Bart said. "I'll take good care of it, really, I promise, I'll only run at quarter-speed from now on and --"
"Shush," Molly told him, dusting her bunny hat off and putting it firmly on Bart's head. With all seriousness, she tied the ears together under Bart's chin and patted him on the head. "There," she said proudly. "Try that."
Chase snorted, but Arsenic elbowed him in the ribs before he could comment. "Nice goggles, Molly," she said. "Ready to go?"
Molly took one last look at Bart wearing her hat and smiled. "Yeah," she said. "Let's go home. I have to show Karolina my goggles."
---
Kon had theories about laciness versus crunchiness and what the various trimmings and textures of the undergarments Kal devoured entailed. Kal could have told him simply that the degree to which he was forbidden to eat something directly correlated to the tastiness factor of the object in question.
It was with this principle in mind, that Kal gazed longingly throw the window of Fllay's cabin at the bra left carelessly sprawled over one end of Fllay's bunk. The moment she had told Kal he was expressly not to eat her wardrobe was the moment her clothes became a taste bonanza.
And it was all beyond Kal's reach.
"._." said Kal to himself.
He sighed, gave the bra one last regretful look and rounded the corner -- to find himself almost tripping over a dozen or so of the Stan chibis.
Instant pandemonium and a few fireballs ensued as Kal tried to snatch and panicked chibis tried to flee.
When the smoke cleared, however, the chibis were gone save one, his leg trapped beneath a large rock -- evidently the chibis had been trying to free him when Kal had caught them unawares.
">>>>:D" Kal said, not even bothering to ask himself how a being that could turn into a shadow at will could get trapped by your garden variety rock. A free meal was a free meal.
But as he advanced on the hapless chibi, Kal could feel countless eyes fixed on him from the shadows, all watching with horror.
">_>"
Then again ... they could turn into shadows. Doors were no barrier to the Stan-chibis.
">>>:D" Kal rolled the rock away. The chibi flinched as Kal extended a tentacle and set him upright, staring as he realised he was free to go.
From the rest of the shadows the other chibis cautiously approached.
":D" said Kal, valiantly resisting the instinct to devour them all.
The chibis conferred amongst each other, and finally one of them approached Kal in what was evidently a gesture of gratitude. Was there anything the chibis could do to repay Kal for his beneficient gesture of mercy?
":?"
Yes, anything.
">>>:D"
Fllay's wardrobe was doomed.
Note: My most recent experience with Sailor Moon was in the form of the live-action TV show. So I'm totally bullshitting the magic attacks and stuff. Please bear with me/forgive me/feign ignorance.
"What I don't get is why a planet reduced to rubble years before I was a twinkle in some geneticist's eye needs two protectors. Seriously. Call me when Clark is done."
"No way. If I have to do this, you have to do this."
"And can we do this preferably before the youma destroys camp?" Ami glared at them.
Boys.
It was no wonder that all the sailor senshi to date had been girls. Probably with only two survivors in camp, Krypton couldn't afford to be picky. It was probably also the reason the planet needed two of them. In the entire hour since the bracelets had shown up, Ami had succeeded only in convincing them to wear the bracelets.
"First," she said. "We transform, like --"
"Can't I just beat the monster up?" Kon suggested. "Give her a touch of the old heat vision and --"
"Heat vision?"
"Geez, Clark, get with the programme already. Eyes, lasers, ringing any bells here?"
"No matter what superpowers the two of you may or may not possess," Ami said before they could lose another hour to Clark feigning ignorance, "the fact remains that to fight the Youma the two of you must transform. Like so." She clasped her bracelet. "Mercury power -- make up!"
"Holy so just barely PG 13 rated, Batman."
Hitting Kon at this point would not only be counter-productive, it would be bordering on indencency. "You don't have to watch, Kon," Ami sing-songed under her breath, wishing the powers that governed the transformation would hurry it up, just this once.
"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but dude. That really leaves nothing to the imagination, you know?"
"Thanks, Kon, I'm sure we're all very glad you pointed that out." Fully costumed, Ami concentrated on ignoring the urge to tug down the short skirt that accompanied her sailor uniform. She succeeded, but she wasn't quite able to quell the accompanying blush. "Now you two -- Clark? Is there a problem?"
Clark had one hand firmly over his eyes. "Are you decent?"
"..." said Ami, wondering how Clark and Kon could share so much genetic matter and still be so incredibly different.
"Dunno about decent," Kon supplied helpfully. "But she's got clothes on now. Ow!"
Ami smothed down her skirt in a ladylike way. "It's okay to look now, Clark. Well? What are the two of you waiting for? We have a youma to defeat."
Clark and Kon looked at each other, and then the ground, the tree, the sky -- anywhere but her.
Ami crossed her arms. "Youma. Destroying camp. Your vanity. Surely you see where I'm going with this."
"No offense, but I'm happy just wearing the bracelet."
"I'll do it," Clark said, putting his hand on the bracelet. "Uh."
"What is it now?"
"Could you uh. Turn around?"
Ami obediently turned around.
"Both of you."
"Like that's really something I want to see."
"Just make sure you don't turn around until I say you can. Okay, um. Krypton power make up."
"My god. I take back everything I ever said about your shirts."
"I didn't say you could look."
"That like ... it's a travesty against flannel and that's saying something."
"Shut up, Kon."
"Don't take this the wrong way or anything, dude, but you've got totally the wrong legs to be wearing that skirt."
"I'm going to hit you if you don't shut up."
"Boys," Ami said, tapping her foot. "Can I turn around now?"
"NO!"
Ami rolled her eyes. "I'm going to have to see you when we fight the youma, you do realise."
"... okay, stuff this. There is no way I'm using my bracelet to transform."
"Maybe I can defeat the youma by myself and you guys can stay here and ... convince everyone else in camp not to look. Okay, I'm with Kon."
"It's just a costume."
"That's what you say. Look, I'm okay with using any powers I may or may not have for the good of the world, but wearing some hideously garish and not altogether decent outfit to do so in? Yeah, that's a line I'm not willing to cross --"
Kon choked.
"... okay, what now?" Ami was going to kill them. She was so going to snap and kill one or both of them.
"Does anyone have a tape recorder? Or paper. Any paper will do. I have to get that in writing."
"Time for that later, Kon!" Ami snapped. She could kill them after they took care of the youma. "Clark, you should have a pendant, yes? Activate it."
"Uh ... Krypton power -- radiant glow!"
"That sounds right," Ami said. "Did it work? Clark? Kon?"
No answer.
She turned around.
The transformation of the pendant had worked ... to an extent. "Power of Krypton," Ami said, a hand to her head. "Kryptonite. Just perfect."
---
With the barrier down and camp gone and all their worlds jumbled up together like some horrible laundry mishap where instead of the dye from your red boxers turning all your shirts a really effeminate pink, you got worlds bleeding into each other, things overlapping, hey the whole fabric of reality in a spin dry -- well, it made sense to take advantage of it. At least, according to Kon.
"Totally don't know when we'll have a chance like this again," he said happily, leading Rey through a maze of streets. "Still can't believe I managed to find Serling and Mick. They'll track down the rest."
"There won't be any jars, will there," Rey said.
"And dude, who wouldn't want to meet you? Clone that they didn't make. They'll be like, blown away."
"No jars."
"And we're at CADMUS! Hey, relax, Rey. They don't bite. Well, the guys don't, can't answer for Serling ... hey, it was a joke. What's the problem?"
Rey looked down. He didn't want to say that the only reason he was there was to oblige Kon, that to have his framework examined, the technology that had created him pulled apart and held up for examination ... it scared him. He knew he was a flawed product, that his days were numbered and for his inferiority to be held up in front of Kon --
"No needles. I promise," Kon said, trying to make him smile, before turning serious too. "Well ... maybe a few. I told Serling about your pills and ... she thinks she can help. And that you can help us." He sat down, patting the step beside him.
After a moment, Rey sat down too. "Help?" he asked, wary.
"I told you I was the 13th attempt, yeah? That they're not really sure why I worked where the others ... didn't. And you know what happened to the first ... but the other eleven. They're still in storage, right? Because we don't have the technology to fix them. And ... it sounds like you do. Your pills -- Serling thinks if they examine how the pills you take keep you together it might help them identify what my body does that's different, and then if they can replicate that ..."
A more normal life. Not just for him, but for others like Kon ... like him ...
"I didn't want to tell you just yet," Kon admitted, shuffling his fingers through his hair in an arkward, embarrassed way. "Thought it'd be too much, you know? You've just got here, you'll want to meet the guys, form your own opinion of CADMUS first. I don't want to put any pressure on you --"
"I'll do it," said Rey.
"Wait -- really? But -- you haven't even met them yet --"
"I don't need to," Rey said. "They made you, didn't they." That was too curt for what he wanted to say, but there weren't words for the odd mixture of need for approval and understanding he got around Kon. The only reason he'd agreed to come see CADMUS at all was because Kon had wanted it. This ... this was something Rey could want too.
Kon rested his hand on Rey's shoulder. "Rey," he said with a grateful smile that took away Rey's remaining trepidation. "You know, if this works, we'll have enough members of the clone club that we could totally form a baseball side."
---
And omake:
Buffy looked up as Kon slid into the seat opposite from her at the restaurant. "Sorry I'm late," he said, straightening his tie, and smoothing back his hair. "I had to --"
"Let me guess," Buffy said. "You're late for our date because Two through Five were hogging the bathroom again, seven borrowed the shirt you were planning on wearing, and twelve used up the last of your hairgel."
"... how did you know?" Kon asked. "Do I look that bad?"
Buffy smiled, leaning over to ruffle his hair. "No," she said. "You look fine. Better than fine in fact."
Kon grinned, but was still confused. "Then how ... ?"
"Consider it this way," Buffy said. "The other super-clones have you and Rey as role models. Since when has either of you taken a shower that lasted less than forty-five minutes? Gone past the hair products section in the supermarket without at least one purchase? Seen a mirror and not stopped to check that your hair was okay?"
"..." said Kon as the horrifying realisation caught up with him. "I'm never ever going to get bathroom time ever again."
---
ETA the second:
Havoc leaned into Mustang surreptitiously. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"The similarity is striking -- and it would go some way to explaining why the two of them got on so well when Maes was here," Roy replied in a careful undertone.
"You think it would be safe to assume he also has Hughes' staying power?"
"As a matter of fact, I was just contemplating escape routes. I think the window is our best bet, providing we don't -- uh."
"Something you'd like to share with the rest of us, Colonel?"
"... no."
"Very well then!" Minagawa gave Armstrong a brilliant smile. "Now if the General would be so kind as to demonstrate the Armstrong family method of operating the slide machine, we can continue our perusal of my holiday shots."
---
Ryuuken eyed himself in the mirror and smirked. Striped tie, tasteful checked jacket, tweed -- yeah he was looking good and bound to pull in the girls -- and where there were girls there were generally bras ...
"Ryuuken? I'm here for coffee like you --eeek! What happened to your clothes?"
Cher! Perfect! Cher was a girl with a bra. "..." Ryuuken said.
It worked. Cher came closer. "Please tell me that the Director's latest form of torture isn't to pick our clothes out for us because -- uh. What are you -- that's a kind of personal area there you know and -- eeek!"
">>>:D"
Locked into the medical supply cupboard, the real Ryuuken listened to Cher delivering a bruising slap and sighed, hiding his face in his tentacles. He didn't know how Kal had managed to instigate the body-switch; he just hoped it would be possible to live it down.
---
"Don't take this the wrong way, Ari," Kon said. "You're a great mascot."
"The best!" said Bart. "And we all loved the costume. The tail especially was a nice touch."
"There just seems to be some slight confusion about what being a superhero mascot entails."
"This is about the psycho clown incident, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Generally speaking, dude, mascots support and encourage."
"Like cheerleaders only with less danger of Kon getting distracted by someone's skirt flipping up and getting taken out."
"... yeah, thanks for that Bart. Anyway the point I'm trying to make is that while we appreciate the help, in some cases ass-kicking is best left to the professionals."
"You're saying I shouldn't have kicked the psycho clown dude in the groin?"
Bart and Kon looked at each other.
"While there were extenuating circumstances, as a rule, superheroes generally hit above the belt," Kon said.
"Even if the villain's wearing a skirt," Bart said. "Because we're upstanding like that."
"Sorry," Ari said. "But he was right there and ignoring me and you guys were busy and I thought --"
"Don't be sorry, Ari!" Bart said. "You were helping!"
"Totally," Kon said. "Which is why we want you to have this."
"... a baseball bat."
"For occasions where hitting below the belt is necessary. Just don't let anyone see you doing it, okay? We got a rep to uphold."
---
Note: Disclaimer! I read bits and pieces of Sandman over five years ago, and my memory is faulty like a faulty thing. So. Oops?
"But she likes dogs! And I like dogs! And she has a dog and even if I can't show her Dox right now if I visit Del's realm I can at least meet Barnaby --"
"Bart. I'm not saying Del's realm isn't a nice place. I'm just saying it's not our kind of place. At least, not that you'd want to visit."
"But I like Del! She's interesting and cool and sometimes when she smiles there are butterflies and butterflies are neat especially the color-changing kind."
"... you like raspberry jello, right?"
"Well, yeah."
"Would you like it if someone put raspberry jello up your nose?"
"..."
"I think her realm is kind of like that."
"I'm telling Buffy you're never allowed to explain stuff to me ever again."
---
They should have known better than to give Noroku the loudspeaker.
"The first annual Camp Fuck U Die Mothering competition, and homage to all women maternally inclined, will shortly begin. Will the contestants please take their places."
"We're already in Boy's Cabin 10. How much more in place do they want us to be? Poised with a pair of socks?"
"Competing for the title of Camp Mother is the resident mother of Boy's Cabin 10 - Oscar Himejima! Give him a big hand folks!"
"OSCAR! OSCAR! HE'S OUR MAN! IF HE CAN'T DO IT, NO ONE CAN!"
Oscar put a perfectly manicured hand to his forehead and sighed dramatically. "Ikkaku. Go die. Preferably as quickly as possible."
"Not until I see you with that trophy in hand - FOR THE HONOUR OF THE CABIN!"
"... what honour?"
"Wait, there's a trophy now?"
"Our challenger is one-time mother Kon-El, also known as Superboy, whose tentacled offspring is well known amongst the camper community as being a child."
"One time parent. Parent."
"I have faith in your mothering abilities, Kon! Knock them dead!"
"... thanks Buffy."
"The challenge is simple. Both contestants will be placed in the cabin with the designated child for the challenge. The first contestant to succeed in putting the child to bed, will be the winner. Contestants are encouraged to make use of any special skills or talents they possess-"
Kon elbowed Oscar subtly. "Hope you stocked up on socks."
"12 pairs. You think that will cover it?"
"It has to. The sooner we lay this stupid mother thing to rest the better."
"-and judging is courtesy of the alluring Ms Urameshi, an experienced mother."
"Ha ha ha, you guys are doomed."
"A magical seal has been placed around the cabin, nothing will pass in or out of it during the duration of the contest save the designated child. You will be observed via magical mirror, courtesy of Francescu Gargamel and -"
"Wait, you never said anything about -"
"And the competition is underway. Good luck to our contestants, and may I take this opportunity to remark on how beautiful the ladies of camp look on this fine occasion."
"That's it?" Oscar asked.
"That's it," Kon said, though he sounded just as uncertain. "Sounds like they've got something planned."
"Whatever it is, it can't be too terrible," Oscar sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than really sure. "Kal, even at his worst, is manageable."
"Yeah, good luck," Kon said, making himself comfortable on Bart's bunk, and flipping through the comic book left closest to hand.
"You're not even going to try?"
"Hey, we tossed for it, you lost," Kon shrugged. "Both of us agreed that the sooner we gave in and went along with the stupid competition, the better … you know what happened to Kimimaro."
Oscar sat down on the edge of his bunk. "I wish I didn't. Who could imagine that a simple bake-off could result in such tragedy."
"It's a sad world we live in," said Kon and the two of them were silent awhile, reflecting on the fate of ninjas who refused to bake.
The silence was broken by a soft pop, like a bottle being uncorked. However, the personage accompanying the sound was rather unexpected.
"Oh holy fuck we're doomed." Kon's horror was obvious.
Oscar approached cautiously. "It's just Bart," he said. "How bad can it be-"
"Mommy!"
In the time it took Oscar to blink, kid!Bart was across the room, having launched himself at Kon's ankles. "Mommymommymommywannahug," he announced.
"Doomed like very doomed things. Did I mention we were doomed?"
"You're doomed," Oscar smirked, flicking back his hair smugly. "He called you Mom-" He looked down to find Bart wrapped around his feet and beaming at him. "Udda Mommy."
"What the - please tell me you don't think I'm Ash."
"Other," Kon translated. "Congratulations, Mom."
"Stuff you too." Oscar gingerly picked Bart up. As he didn't spontaneously combust or burst into flames, he figured this was a good sign. "Shall we put you to bed then, Bart?"
He was caught entirely unaware by the tantrum this produced.
"No bed, no bed, no wanna beeeeeeed -"
Bart was just so slippery. Oscar was trying to keep hold of him but he had to set him down on the floor before he dropped him. "It's not so bad. I'll tell you a story and -"
It was as though the cabin had just gained an ankle high tornado.
"Nosleepnosleepgonnastayuplateandplaynottiredyettttt-"
"Nicely done."
"Oh shut up," Oscar gingerly set about trying to restore peace. "Now Bart - just settle down for a moment-"
He was still restoring peace a good thirty minutes later.
"I" Kon announced to no one in particular. "Have something in my hand."
"Good for you," Oscar was frazzled. "Some help would be appreciated here."
Kon stuck his tongue out at Oscar, and went back to examine the something cradled in his hand. "Just for that, I'm not going to tell you what it is."
"Too bad there isn't an award for biggest camp child," Oscar said, pausing as he realized the rush of wind that was Bart tearing around the cabin faster than light speed had paused as Bart tried to peer up into Kon's hand.
"What's it?" He asked, tugging at Kon's leg. "Wanna see. Lemme seeee."
Kon gave him a considering glance then knelt. "It's secret, right," he said all seriousness. "You can't tell Oscar. Okay?"
Bart giggled. "Okay."
"Oh, that's mature."
With all due drama, Kon turned to Bart. "It's a … tickle attack!"
Bart squealed, Oscar sighed. "Perfect. Just what we need to do - get him more hyped up."
"What's that, Oscar? Didn't get tickled enough as a kid?" Kon paused his assault on a giggling Bart. "You know what this means, Bart?"
"We's gotta teach 'em?"
"Oh, no." Oscar backed up against the cabin door. "No no no."
"Hey," Kon said. "It's a sad world."
"I hate you so much right now. Just so you know."
Tickling Oscar into incoherency was followed by playing pony rides with a winded Oscar coerced into the role of horse, Kon making random things float and drop for Bart's amusement, and finally, Kon reading Bart the comic book, complete with sound effects.
"I don't believe this," Oscar said as Kon put the comic down to show Bart snuggled up against his side, sleeping angelically. "All you did was get him excited. I was the one trying to get him to sleep -"
"Wore him out," Kon said smugly, carefully scooping Bart up and handing him over to Oscar. "All yours. Bed him and we can get the hell out of here."
The loudspeaker crackled with an abruptness that made them both jump. "The contest is over with a clear winner," Noroku announced. "The title of Camp Mother goes to Kon-El -"
"What? I don't want it -"
"Judges decision is unanimous and final. Congratulations to the runner up contestant, Oscar Himejima for effort. A prize of a frilly apron will be delivered to you soon."
"Just what I always wanted."
"And now it's time for the next competition - will Ash and Tomo please stand by for Camp Fuck U Die's first pie eating competition."
---
“Poor Sukekiyo - how frightened he must have been. It was very good of you to bring him back, Kudou-san.”
“It was nothing really - ow! I know a thing or two about being stuck in a tree,” Kazahaya admitted as Minagawa administered another plaster.
“If only Sukekiyo had reacted with a little more gratitude,” the cook said, dabbing at the remaining scratches with antiseptic. “Still … I would like to repay you.”
“Oh! No need - I didn't do it for thanks,” Kazahaya protested.
“Nonetheless,” Minagawa said, pulling a small straw doll and a handful of pins from his vest. “Have I mentioned to you my recipe for improved partner relationships? Pine flavoured.”
---
"Let me get this straight," Lady said carefully. "You have friends, celebrity, hell, team-mates in your world. Me, I have demons and the very real threat of the Apocalypse. And you're asking --"
"Begging."
"--begging if you can come hang out in my world. Why? Was the grimness, the hostilty, hell the death and destruction not obvious enough? Maybe I should go rustle up a welcome party of demonic creatures intent on your destruction."
"Geez, anyone would think you weren't happy to see me."
Lady took a deep breath, reminded herself that it was Kon and shooting him wouldn't do any good. "Kon. Why are you here."
Some shuffling followed (impressive while air-bourne) and Kon admitted that Clark had adopted him officially. "Like legally and everything. We went to this court and signed papers and I had to wear a tie."
Lady pondered shooting him just for the satisfaction of it -- he could still feel the bullets after all. "This is the guy you already look up to aqn drespect as a father anyway, right? What's the problem?"
"Luthor threatened to take him to court for custody of me. 'Cause he can back it up with the paternity claim, whereas Clark can't, not without jeopardising his identity."
"So why can't Superman adopt you?"
"Alien."
"Ah." Lady wondered if shooting one or both of Kon's donors would help the situation any. "So he's blackmailing Clark and you figured that if you're here he's got nothing to hurt Clark with."
"... yeah, let's go with that."
God, why wasn't Buffy here to deal with this? Lady massaged her temples. "Why Kon."
"Out of court settlement. The terms? He wants joint custody. Clark? Thinks we'd be a good influence on each other. Apparently I could use some forethought."
"How the hell does letting you hang out with a known super villain with a track record of pushing all your non-thinking buttons sound like a good idea?"
"... Luthor liked Clark's latest book."
"..."
"They're having dinner tonight to discuss my academic record."
"..."
"I quit school ages ago. I don't have an academic record."
"... ah."
"So can I stay?"
"God forbid you get an education." But either Bart had worn down her resistance or absence could make her grow fonder of even Kon. "I suppose I could let you crash on my floor until Robin realises where you are and comes to drag you home."
"Thanks Lady; you're the best." And man, getting hugged in public was going to do nothing for her reputation. "Now, about that welcoming commitee?"
---
Note: basis for this drabble-like thing was Clark using x-ray vision to do a card trick for Lana on his pseudo date with her. >:D
"Pray explain to me one more time how this 'magic trick' of your world works."
"Okay. So I have a deck of cards and I spread them out -- like so."
"Adequately shuffled?"
"To a point, yeah. That's where the trick comes in."
"I think I begin to understand. And this is where you instruct me to 'pick a card-- any card' -- correct?"
"Just like that. Don't show me."
"And you will identify the card now?"
"Three of clubs."
"Correct again. And you are not casting by-sight?"
"You know I can't do magic."
"Are there perhaps mirrors involved? Or have you doctored the deck?"
"Nope."
"Then tell me. What is this card?"
"That's not a playing card."
"And yet I conjured it to resemble one in every respect save the reverse design. That rules out clever shuffling -- how did you do it, Clark?"
"A magician never reveals his secrets."
"Is that so?"
"It's a fact."
"One my father might have done well to follow. It's disconcerting how well known my family name is ... it was mirrors, wasn't it."
"... yeah, it was mirrors."
---
"Seriously, Clark. Public speaking is nothing to be afraid of."
"For you maybe. I'm not used to having everyone looking at me."
Lex smirked. "They're as scared of you as you are of them." At Clark's look he chuckled. "You really need to relax, tell yourself this is no big deal. While a lot of people will tell you to picture your audience naked, I always find that --"
Clark choked.
"Clark?"
"Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"... repeated some rather trite advice concerned with making you view your audience in a non-threatening light -- Clark? What's wrong? Take your hands off you eyes and look at me, Clark."
"..."
"... are you picturing me naked?"
"... no."
"You got a rather unpleasant mental image and now you can't stop picturing people without clothes."
"... no."
"You're bright red. This isn't helping your plausible deniability any."
"It's hot in here. I think your air-conditioning's bust."
"I see." Lex paused thoughtfully. "Would it help if I took my shirt off?"
"I can see fine from here."
"..."
"... uh."
"Enjoying the view, Clark?"
"Shut up."
---
ETA:
Muffled thud, startled exclamation, chinese swearwords. Clark blinked, disorientated, at his pillow. He didn't remember falling this time -- wait. Since when did he know how to swear in Chinese?
"And you call yourself a doctor? Turning away so cruelly -- no so coldly a person in need?"
"The only thing you need is a restraining strait-jacket! Compared to that, kicking you out of my bed is nothing --"
Mr Ayame had snuck into Simon's bed. Clark frowned blearily at his cabinmates. Did they know what time it was?
"Why if only you knew the torment that wracked this delicate frame through the long evenings--"
"And the pain you're inflicting upon us, now? It's not even 2 am, think of the girls -- you've already woken Clark."
Now he was going to get dragged into it. Clark groaned, seeing his chances of getting back to sleep without fuss grow steadily slimmer and -- unless ...
Mr Ayame was vocal but Clark wasn't entirely sure he was awake. He seemed more repetitive and less linear than usual -- were that possible. Sleep talking would back up his claims of sleep walking periodically in search of warmth ...
Simon for his part had turned his back on both Mr Ayame and Clark, making a valiant effort to tear his hair out by the roots. "It's not as thought I'm asking a lot. I do so much for camp at the hospital--"
Now.
Throw a blanket around Mr Ayame, pick him up, carry him through camp all at speed to the cabin where his male cousins slept in the hopes that he would at least climb into bed with a family member this time and speed back, settling back below his blankets before Simon had even turned around --
"rrreally," Simon said, time slipping back to normal. "I'm not without my rights and -- where did that wind come from? What happened? Where's Ayame--"
"He's gone," Clark supplied unhelpfully. It wasn't too much of an act to seem unaware -- the adrenalin of the quick run was fading fast upon his return to his bed.
"But he was just and I --" Simon sat down heavily on the end of Clark's bunk. "River -- the switch -- did I do that?"
Clark bit his lip. Laughing was not going to get him to sleep any earlier. "But that's impossible."
"Then how do you explain it?"
"I don't." Simon didn't seem willing to go back to sleep without some kind of explanation, so Clark extrapolated. "Maybe Mr Ayame just teleported himself somewhere warmer."
"The laws of physics -- matter -- motion -- clearly state that should be an impossibility --"
Clark threw a pillow at him.
---
Saying goodbye was hard. They'd made all the thank yous for being my friend, the promises to not forget each other and told each other that if there was a way to meet up again after camp, they would. All that was left now was the leaving.
Molly took off her bunny hat and put it on Bart's head. "There," she said. "You can keep this 'till I see you again." She said it stubbornly, half afraid she might cry but more afraid that Bart wouldn't want a stupid girly hat.
Bart looked as though she'd given him the crown jewels of England. "Molly," he said awed, then blurred out of sight, disappearing at light speed to return a moment later with his goggles. "Here. So you don't feel like something's missing without your -- oops."
They both looked at Molly's hat on the ground where it had fallen the instant Bart had run off.
"I'm really really sorry," Bart said. "I'll take good care of it, really, I promise, I'll only run at quarter-speed from now on and --"
"Shush," Molly told him, dusting her bunny hat off and putting it firmly on Bart's head. With all seriousness, she tied the ears together under Bart's chin and patted him on the head. "There," she said proudly. "Try that."
Chase snorted, but Arsenic elbowed him in the ribs before he could comment. "Nice goggles, Molly," she said. "Ready to go?"
Molly took one last look at Bart wearing her hat and smiled. "Yeah," she said. "Let's go home. I have to show Karolina my goggles."
---
Kon had theories about laciness versus crunchiness and what the various trimmings and textures of the undergarments Kal devoured entailed. Kal could have told him simply that the degree to which he was forbidden to eat something directly correlated to the tastiness factor of the object in question.
It was with this principle in mind, that Kal gazed longingly throw the window of Fllay's cabin at the bra left carelessly sprawled over one end of Fllay's bunk. The moment she had told Kal he was expressly not to eat her wardrobe was the moment her clothes became a taste bonanza.
And it was all beyond Kal's reach.
"._." said Kal to himself.
He sighed, gave the bra one last regretful look and rounded the corner -- to find himself almost tripping over a dozen or so of the Stan chibis.
Instant pandemonium and a few fireballs ensued as Kal tried to snatch and panicked chibis tried to flee.
When the smoke cleared, however, the chibis were gone save one, his leg trapped beneath a large rock -- evidently the chibis had been trying to free him when Kal had caught them unawares.
">>>>:D" Kal said, not even bothering to ask himself how a being that could turn into a shadow at will could get trapped by your garden variety rock. A free meal was a free meal.
But as he advanced on the hapless chibi, Kal could feel countless eyes fixed on him from the shadows, all watching with horror.
">_>"
Then again ... they could turn into shadows. Doors were no barrier to the Stan-chibis.
">>>:D" Kal rolled the rock away. The chibi flinched as Kal extended a tentacle and set him upright, staring as he realised he was free to go.
From the rest of the shadows the other chibis cautiously approached.
":D" said Kal, valiantly resisting the instinct to devour them all.
The chibis conferred amongst each other, and finally one of them approached Kal in what was evidently a gesture of gratitude. Was there anything the chibis could do to repay Kal for his beneficient gesture of mercy?
":?"
Yes, anything.
">>>:D"
Fllay's wardrobe was doomed.
Note: My most recent experience with Sailor Moon was in the form of the live-action TV show. So I'm totally bullshitting the magic attacks and stuff. Please bear with me/forgive me/feign ignorance.
"What I don't get is why a planet reduced to rubble years before I was a twinkle in some geneticist's eye needs two protectors. Seriously. Call me when Clark is done."
"No way. If I have to do this, you have to do this."
"And can we do this preferably before the youma destroys camp?" Ami glared at them.
Boys.
It was no wonder that all the sailor senshi to date had been girls. Probably with only two survivors in camp, Krypton couldn't afford to be picky. It was probably also the reason the planet needed two of them. In the entire hour since the bracelets had shown up, Ami had succeeded only in convincing them to wear the bracelets.
"First," she said. "We transform, like --"
"Can't I just beat the monster up?" Kon suggested. "Give her a touch of the old heat vision and --"
"Heat vision?"
"Geez, Clark, get with the programme already. Eyes, lasers, ringing any bells here?"
"No matter what superpowers the two of you may or may not possess," Ami said before they could lose another hour to Clark feigning ignorance, "the fact remains that to fight the Youma the two of you must transform. Like so." She clasped her bracelet. "Mercury power -- make up!"
"Holy so just barely PG 13 rated, Batman."
Hitting Kon at this point would not only be counter-productive, it would be bordering on indencency. "You don't have to watch, Kon," Ami sing-songed under her breath, wishing the powers that governed the transformation would hurry it up, just this once.
"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but dude. That really leaves nothing to the imagination, you know?"
"Thanks, Kon, I'm sure we're all very glad you pointed that out." Fully costumed, Ami concentrated on ignoring the urge to tug down the short skirt that accompanied her sailor uniform. She succeeded, but she wasn't quite able to quell the accompanying blush. "Now you two -- Clark? Is there a problem?"
Clark had one hand firmly over his eyes. "Are you decent?"
"..." said Ami, wondering how Clark and Kon could share so much genetic matter and still be so incredibly different.
"Dunno about decent," Kon supplied helpfully. "But she's got clothes on now. Ow!"
Ami smothed down her skirt in a ladylike way. "It's okay to look now, Clark. Well? What are the two of you waiting for? We have a youma to defeat."
Clark and Kon looked at each other, and then the ground, the tree, the sky -- anywhere but her.
Ami crossed her arms. "Youma. Destroying camp. Your vanity. Surely you see where I'm going with this."
"No offense, but I'm happy just wearing the bracelet."
"I'll do it," Clark said, putting his hand on the bracelet. "Uh."
"What is it now?"
"Could you uh. Turn around?"
Ami obediently turned around.
"Both of you."
"Like that's really something I want to see."
"Just make sure you don't turn around until I say you can. Okay, um. Krypton power make up."
"My god. I take back everything I ever said about your shirts."
"I didn't say you could look."
"That like ... it's a travesty against flannel and that's saying something."
"Shut up, Kon."
"Don't take this the wrong way or anything, dude, but you've got totally the wrong legs to be wearing that skirt."
"I'm going to hit you if you don't shut up."
"Boys," Ami said, tapping her foot. "Can I turn around now?"
"NO!"
Ami rolled her eyes. "I'm going to have to see you when we fight the youma, you do realise."
"... okay, stuff this. There is no way I'm using my bracelet to transform."
"Maybe I can defeat the youma by myself and you guys can stay here and ... convince everyone else in camp not to look. Okay, I'm with Kon."
"It's just a costume."
"That's what you say. Look, I'm okay with using any powers I may or may not have for the good of the world, but wearing some hideously garish and not altogether decent outfit to do so in? Yeah, that's a line I'm not willing to cross --"
Kon choked.
"... okay, what now?" Ami was going to kill them. She was so going to snap and kill one or both of them.
"Does anyone have a tape recorder? Or paper. Any paper will do. I have to get that in writing."
"Time for that later, Kon!" Ami snapped. She could kill them after they took care of the youma. "Clark, you should have a pendant, yes? Activate it."
"Uh ... Krypton power -- radiant glow!"
"That sounds right," Ami said. "Did it work? Clark? Kon?"
No answer.
She turned around.
The transformation of the pendant had worked ... to an extent. "Power of Krypton," Ami said, a hand to her head. "Kryptonite. Just perfect."
---
With the barrier down and camp gone and all their worlds jumbled up together like some horrible laundry mishap where instead of the dye from your red boxers turning all your shirts a really effeminate pink, you got worlds bleeding into each other, things overlapping, hey the whole fabric of reality in a spin dry -- well, it made sense to take advantage of it. At least, according to Kon.
"Totally don't know when we'll have a chance like this again," he said happily, leading Rey through a maze of streets. "Still can't believe I managed to find Serling and Mick. They'll track down the rest."
"There won't be any jars, will there," Rey said.
"And dude, who wouldn't want to meet you? Clone that they didn't make. They'll be like, blown away."
"No jars."
"And we're at CADMUS! Hey, relax, Rey. They don't bite. Well, the guys don't, can't answer for Serling ... hey, it was a joke. What's the problem?"
Rey looked down. He didn't want to say that the only reason he was there was to oblige Kon, that to have his framework examined, the technology that had created him pulled apart and held up for examination ... it scared him. He knew he was a flawed product, that his days were numbered and for his inferiority to be held up in front of Kon --
"No needles. I promise," Kon said, trying to make him smile, before turning serious too. "Well ... maybe a few. I told Serling about your pills and ... she thinks she can help. And that you can help us." He sat down, patting the step beside him.
After a moment, Rey sat down too. "Help?" he asked, wary.
"I told you I was the 13th attempt, yeah? That they're not really sure why I worked where the others ... didn't. And you know what happened to the first ... but the other eleven. They're still in storage, right? Because we don't have the technology to fix them. And ... it sounds like you do. Your pills -- Serling thinks if they examine how the pills you take keep you together it might help them identify what my body does that's different, and then if they can replicate that ..."
A more normal life. Not just for him, but for others like Kon ... like him ...
"I didn't want to tell you just yet," Kon admitted, shuffling his fingers through his hair in an arkward, embarrassed way. "Thought it'd be too much, you know? You've just got here, you'll want to meet the guys, form your own opinion of CADMUS first. I don't want to put any pressure on you --"
"I'll do it," said Rey.
"Wait -- really? But -- you haven't even met them yet --"
"I don't need to," Rey said. "They made you, didn't they." That was too curt for what he wanted to say, but there weren't words for the odd mixture of need for approval and understanding he got around Kon. The only reason he'd agreed to come see CADMUS at all was because Kon had wanted it. This ... this was something Rey could want too.
Kon rested his hand on Rey's shoulder. "Rey," he said with a grateful smile that took away Rey's remaining trepidation. "You know, if this works, we'll have enough members of the clone club that we could totally form a baseball side."
---
And omake:
Buffy looked up as Kon slid into the seat opposite from her at the restaurant. "Sorry I'm late," he said, straightening his tie, and smoothing back his hair. "I had to --"
"Let me guess," Buffy said. "You're late for our date because Two through Five were hogging the bathroom again, seven borrowed the shirt you were planning on wearing, and twelve used up the last of your hairgel."
"... how did you know?" Kon asked. "Do I look that bad?"
Buffy smiled, leaning over to ruffle his hair. "No," she said. "You look fine. Better than fine in fact."
Kon grinned, but was still confused. "Then how ... ?"
"Consider it this way," Buffy said. "The other super-clones have you and Rey as role models. Since when has either of you taken a shower that lasted less than forty-five minutes? Gone past the hair products section in the supermarket without at least one purchase? Seen a mirror and not stopped to check that your hair was okay?"
"..." said Kon as the horrifying realisation caught up with him. "I'm never ever going to get bathroom time ever again."
---
ETA the second:
Havoc leaned into Mustang surreptitiously. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"The similarity is striking -- and it would go some way to explaining why the two of them got on so well when Maes was here," Roy replied in a careful undertone.
"You think it would be safe to assume he also has Hughes' staying power?"
"As a matter of fact, I was just contemplating escape routes. I think the window is our best bet, providing we don't -- uh."
"Something you'd like to share with the rest of us, Colonel?"
"... no."
"Very well then!" Minagawa gave Armstrong a brilliant smile. "Now if the General would be so kind as to demonstrate the Armstrong family method of operating the slide machine, we can continue our perusal of my holiday shots."
---
Ryuuken eyed himself in the mirror and smirked. Striped tie, tasteful checked jacket, tweed -- yeah he was looking good and bound to pull in the girls -- and where there were girls there were generally bras ...
"Ryuuken? I'm here for coffee like you --eeek! What happened to your clothes?"
Cher! Perfect! Cher was a girl with a bra. "..." Ryuuken said.
It worked. Cher came closer. "Please tell me that the Director's latest form of torture isn't to pick our clothes out for us because -- uh. What are you -- that's a kind of personal area there you know and -- eeek!"
">>>:D"
Locked into the medical supply cupboard, the real Ryuuken listened to Cher delivering a bruising slap and sighed, hiding his face in his tentacles. He didn't know how Kal had managed to instigate the body-switch; he just hoped it would be possible to live it down.
---
"Don't take this the wrong way, Ari," Kon said. "You're a great mascot."
"The best!" said Bart. "And we all loved the costume. The tail especially was a nice touch."
"There just seems to be some slight confusion about what being a superhero mascot entails."
"This is about the psycho clown incident, isn't it?"
"Yeah. Generally speaking, dude, mascots support and encourage."
"Like cheerleaders only with less danger of Kon getting distracted by someone's skirt flipping up and getting taken out."
"... yeah, thanks for that Bart. Anyway the point I'm trying to make is that while we appreciate the help, in some cases ass-kicking is best left to the professionals."
"You're saying I shouldn't have kicked the psycho clown dude in the groin?"
Bart and Kon looked at each other.
"While there were extenuating circumstances, as a rule, superheroes generally hit above the belt," Kon said.
"Even if the villain's wearing a skirt," Bart said. "Because we're upstanding like that."
"Sorry," Ari said. "But he was right there and ignoring me and you guys were busy and I thought --"
"Don't be sorry, Ari!" Bart said. "You were helping!"
"Totally," Kon said. "Which is why we want you to have this."
"... a baseball bat."
"For occasions where hitting below the belt is necessary. Just don't let anyone see you doing it, okay? We got a rep to uphold."
---
Note: Disclaimer! I read bits and pieces of Sandman over five years ago, and my memory is faulty like a faulty thing. So. Oops?
"But she likes dogs! And I like dogs! And she has a dog and even if I can't show her Dox right now if I visit Del's realm I can at least meet Barnaby --"
"Bart. I'm not saying Del's realm isn't a nice place. I'm just saying it's not our kind of place. At least, not that you'd want to visit."
"But I like Del! She's interesting and cool and sometimes when she smiles there are butterflies and butterflies are neat especially the color-changing kind."
"... you like raspberry jello, right?"
"Well, yeah."
"Would you like it if someone put raspberry jello up your nose?"
"..."
"I think her realm is kind of like that."
"I'm telling Buffy you're never allowed to explain stuff to me ever again."
---