Trans-Matter, part 2
I wake up scared, I wake up strange
I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever gonna change
I wake up scared, I wake up strange
And everything around me stays the same
--"What a Good Boy" - Barenaked Ladies
Thursday comes and goes, and with it the Superhero Memorial Bridge dedication, without Dr. Horrible making a public appearance. He's got the Freeze Ray ready, but... well, he's still stuck as a girl. He's not sure anyone would actually believe it was him, if he did go.
And anyway, the last thing he needs is to get beaten to a pulp in a mostly unfamiliar body.
He spends the day doing support requests for work, including a few truly stupid zingers - 'How do I log in?' indeed, how did that idiot even make it past the home page? - and getting used to some of the basic mechanics of this body. That's another reason he opts out of the bridge opening; he doesn't want to beat himself to a pulp by not accounting for the different center of gravity, or just how much arm's reach he's got before a ray gun bumps into his chest, or something.
Not to mention, his neck is still sore from yesterday, and it's almost definitely starting to creep into his shoulders. It's not just from hauling his laundry around, he knows that much; he does that twice a week with no trouble. Given that, it's got to be from the... extra weight in front.
It's just a dull ache, but it's damn persistent, and enough to make him wonder why on Earth anyone would ever want to add to it. Reduction surgery, he can understand, and maybe a little something for people who don't have anything to start with and really think they should, but for people who already have more chest than they know what to do with? Billy's probably never going to understand that, and really, that's fine by him.
Friday passes in much the same way, other than the part where Billy needs to go to the grocery. It's not as big of a social risk as the laundromat, but it's a bigger survival risk, and Moist will poke him to get some food if he doesn't do it on his own, so he goes. People mostly ignore him, other than the occasional person eyeing his hair - not that he can blame them for that, but he's still kind of glad it didn't grow out along with everything else. He's got more than enough on his plate without having to learn how to cope with long hair, too.
While he's mulling this over at the self-service checkout, it hits him that Penny didn't say a word about what probably looks like his hair got attacked by an overzealous hedge trimmer. He's not really sure what to think of that, so he puts it out of his mind for now and heads home with his renewed stock of Easy Mac and Mountain Dew.
It may not sound like much - and it probably isn't, nutritionally speaking - but it's food, and it'll keep him going for another day.
He spends Saturday morning making up some of the work time he lost to Monday's shopping expedition. In the afternoon, he heads for the laundromat with only the slightest of second thoughts. It's occurred to him that he's in something of a unique position at the moment, regarding Penny; it might be easier to ask her about her relationship, without looking like he's only seeing her as a trophy. Which he doesn't, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the possibility's there, especially now that Captain Hammer's taken an interest. He didn't push the issue on Wednesday, since it didn't really come up, but still. If it does, he plans to take advantage of this weirdness, as much as he can.
She's already there, this time; after they get through exchanging greetings, she asks where Billy is.
If only she knew.
"He's... busy," he says. "Something came up, and - well, it's taking a lot out of him." He's proud of himself; all of that is technically true, in a way.
"Oh. Well, I hope he gets through it all right."
"Thanks. I do too. So, um, how was your week?"
"Not bad. The shelter petition's coming along slowly, but it is coming along. And I think I have a date tonight."
"Oh?" Billy does his best to keep his voice neutral. "Someone you know, or more like a blind date?"
"We went out a couple times last weekend. It was... unexpected. He seemed kinda cheesy at first, but... he was actually a little sweet. I'm still sounding it out."
"You sure you shouldn't trust your first impression?"
Penny shrugs. "Like I said, I'm still trying to figure out what to make of him. Definitely never thought a hero would take an interest in me, I can say that much."
"...A hero?"
"Yeah. Captain Hammer, actually. We sort of ran into each other by accident."
It's all Billy can do not to snort derisively. "I - Billy... keeps tabs on that stuff. He's very opinionated. Far as he can tell, Captain Hammer's an egotistical jerk who gets too much credit for not enough action."
"Well... we'll see. I figured it can't hurt to at least give him a chance - he was nice enough. Don't know what else is going to happen."
"You really are an incurable optimist, aren't you?"
Penny smiles. "I guess so." Her washer stops, and the conversation peters out on that front as she moves her stuff to a dryer. When she comes back, they change topics, which is probably just as well; enlightening as that discussion was, Billy's had about as much as he can take of talking about Captain Hammer - especially since he had to keep a straight face through the whole thing.
***
Sunday brings with it a surprise, when Billy gets to surfing the Internet at random. No less than three blogs have observed the fact that Dr. Horrible hasn't put out a post in the last week, and more than one of them actually express concern for his safety. At least, he thinks it's that more than actively hoping Captain Hammer broke his skull.
It's kind of weird. He knew people paid attention to his blog, but he hadn't realised he had that kind of a following. And weird as it is, it's also kind of nice, knowing people actually seem to care.
In light of that, he opens up his word processor and starts typing. It takes him a while, but eventually, he has something that will pass for a post.
I'm still alive, it starts. For those of you who may have been worried, don't panic; I haven't even seen Captain Hammer in the last week to be beaten unconscious by him. What has happened is some technical difficulties that I'm still working on fixing; probably won't be any video posts until I get that sorted out, but I'll try to keep you posted, since you're interested.
And so, in the interests of... well, some amount of disclosure: The League's considering my application this time. There would be victory arms here, but I don't do smilies. Pulled off successful Wonderflonium heist the Friday before last - well, successful in the sense that I achieved my objective. Some side events involving Captain Hammer were... less good.
Freeze Ray is pretty well set to go, but due to the previously mentioned technical difficulties, I didn't get a chance to take it to the Superhero Memorial Bridge opening like I'd hoped. Not sure when I'll get a chance to give it its public debut, but it's in good shape.
Trans-Matter Ray... is in a state of flux.
He almost deletes the last line, but figures it's the sort of thing that would slip out if he were on camera, so he might as well leave it in. After that, he moves on to answering a couple of emails, rounds out the post, and updates the blog. It may not be the sort of output people have come to expect from him, but he can't go on camera like this; he can at least throw them a bone and assure people he's still alive, just lurking.
Moist comes over a little bit after that, with a pizza in tow; he must have just gotten the thing, since the box is barely damp.
"Thought you could use some food," he says. "And don't say you went to the grocery, I know you. You probably only got Easy Mac."
"I need to stop being so predictable, don't I?"
"It's a thought. How are... things?"
Billy sighs. "Still haven't figured out what the hell's up with the Trans-Matter Ray, but... I talked to Penny a couple times."
"You did? Cool. How'd that go?"
"All right, I guess. I have no real idea, and... well. Captain Hammer's taking her on dates, so that may or may not have ruined my chances completely."
Moist shrugs, and sets the pizza box down on the lab table. "You never know, Doc. Best thing you can do is keep talking to her."
"I guess. If she's not thrown off by the whole weird gender thing, anyway. Oh - don't know if you saw, but people online were actually wondering where I disappeared to."
"Nice. The League's not on your case yet, are they?"
"Not yet, but it's probably only a matter of time. Can we talk about something else? I... so don't want to be dwelling on that all night." He's hoping to start tackling the Trans-Matter Ray in earnest, in the morning, and he won't even be able to fake that if he doesn't get at least some sleep.
"Fair enough." Moist picks up a slice of pizza - extra cheese, from the looks of it, but there's probably spinach or something lurking under the surface, knowing Moist - and starts filling Billy in on various intrigues within the Henchmen's Union. As a distraction tactic, it's actually pretty stellar; the Union has always had more obvious infighting than the League, probably because the pool of members is so much more diverse and there's less competition to get in. There's definitely a competition to get name recognition, though, at least in some cases. Moist seems to be immune to that.
It probably has something to do with how much he underestimates himself. Billy's sure that Moist could do some seriously badass things, if he'd just let himself find out about them.
When Moist heads home, Billy decides to call it a night, and gets the best night's sleep he's had since before the Trans-Matter Ray spazzed on him.
***
Billy spends the better part of Monday trying to get the Trans-Matter Ray sorted out.
The operative word there is 'trying'; he tests the ray itself on a small tree branch outside his apartment building, and it lands on his bed with no trouble. He puts it in a Ziploc bag right away, just in case the trouble the gold bars gave him comes up again, but there aren't any unexpected problems.
That's a little weird; the spark was definitely big enough that Billy had mostly expected the ray to need some more serious work than the shifting molecules problem. It also doesn't really help narrow down the source of the problem, which is... really not what he'd been hoping for at all.
He doesn't want to take the thing apart, now that he knows it's still fulfilling its original function, so he decides to try to recreate it; for once, he's got the materials around, thanks to the Freeze Ray work. So he does that, and he's got a second Trans-Matter Ray by the end of the afternoon, but... the problem is, that's about all he's got. Seems like whatever made the first one shoot off sparks is something Billy didn't mange to replicate.
By that point, he's tired, frustrated, and probably running out of blood sugar (less in a 'danger of diabetic coma' sense and more in the sense where he hasn't had anything other than Mountain Dew and a couple pretzels all day), so he puts it aside, heats up some Easy Mac, and takes care of some support requests. The League doesn't come calling that night, for which he counts his blessings.
It's Tuesday afternoon before his League phone - a prepaid piece of junk, since Apple apparently isn't evil enough for Bad Horse's tastes - rings. Billy considers letting it sit, but the prepaid phone didn't come with voicemail, and anyway he's not sure what that would mean for the singing cowboys. They'd probably keep calling until they got an answer. So he sighs, and picks it up, and tries not to jump when the singing telegram posse appears.
He liked your application,
But have you gone away?
To stay in consideration
You must act today!
We think assassination
Would be the perfect way
To show us that you're still on course,
So go do something, signed, Bad Horse!
They disappear, leaving Billy half wondering which one was the Rigor Mortis Kid, half hoping none of them were paying enough attention to their surroundings to notice what's obviously wrong with the scene, and entirely very pissed off. First, Bad Horse can't know very many mad scientists if he thinks a week and a half is enough to pull off a spectacularly evil deed - sure, there's something to be said for the rush of mad genius, but even that can't fully replace solid, careful planning, in the end.
And anyway, where does the League get off assuming there's nothing more to devious behavior than murder? There's nothing creative or elegant about killing people, Billy's thought that for a long time now. The trick is in getting them to realise the world is a mess, and that the status is very much not quo; it's hard to get that kind of point to stick, when all you have left are corpses.
The League can damn well wait; Billy's going to need time to get something sorted out, aside from the obvious problem of likely not getting recognition for anything at the moment anyway, not when they're expecting to see a guy. Anyway, there are more pressing matters at hand, like tomorrow being laundry day.
Billy writes up another text-only blog post ('technical difficulties remain no less technical, but even more difficult'), in hopes of clearing the worst of the irritation. It doesn't quite work out according to that plan.
***
Wednesday is somewhat better. Billy thinks this is in part because Penny has no interest in talking about Captain Hammer, beyond calling him nice - not without a little hesitation, Billy notes, but it's probably pointless to read too much into that. But anyway, after Penny gets her clothes into a washer, she opens a bag from the frozen yogurt stand down the street.
"Huh," she says. "I got two frozen yogurts by mistake. Want one? I'd just take it home, but it would probably go bad by the time I got it to the fridge."
Billy thinks about it for a second, then shrugs. "Sure. Why not?"
"Great." Penny grins, and hands Billy the brown frozen yogurt - chocolate - and a spork. Billy's not sure what to make of it at first, having long thought that chocolate frozen yogurt can bear a little too much resemblance to dog droppings (or, at least, to their usual cartoon representations), but the first bite brings with it another lesson - namely, why women like chocolate so much.
"This is - really good."
"I'll have to pass that along. I don't think Larry usually does chocolate - maybe the spare was for an experiment, to see if it would sell."
"Might make more sense to actually sell it, in that case. You know the guy?" Of course she knows the guy, she stops at the yogurt stand at least once a week - but Billy thinks that might be a bad way to phrase it.
"He stayed at the shelter for a while. Said he dropped out of college and ended up pretty directionless after that. Then came the day that someone wanted a healthier dessert than the ice cream we were getting at the time, and... the rest is history."
"...It's homemade? I never knew that."
Penny grins. "One of the shelter's usual donors put up the money to get him the equipment. Larry's more than paid back the investment by now."
"I can see why." There's a pause, as they both eat; it's only slightly awkward. "So, um. How's the shelter stuff going?"
"All right. The petitions are coming along slowly, still, but that's not really a surprise. And... one of the directors said they'd like to give me an official job, if we do get the new building."
"Really. Way to go. Is it one of those things where they'd do it now, but they're pretty well staffed for the current building?"
Penny shrugs. "I think so. It's... good to know, considering how long it took me to land what I've got now. I was beginning to think I'd have to settle for doing what I love as volunteer work only. Every time I tried to apply to one, I'd get turned down."
"I can't see anyone turning you down for a job."
"Once upon a time, I couldn't either. Of course, now I can visualise it really well."
Billy laughs a little at that, but only after Penny does first. "Yeah, that would help. And sometimes, you find yourself wondering if a job that you thought you really wanted... is all you built it up to be, in your head."
That might have been a little too much, especially since Billy's pressing forward with the application anyway - but then, it's the League, and you can't just drop it when you're this far along. That'd be as good as having a death wish. Still, it almost needed to be said, and Penny doesn't read that deeply into it.
"That happens with a lot of jobs," she says. "I can't decide if it's better to realise before you get it or after that it's not all you cracked it up to be. Catching on before you're caught up in it at least gives you the chance to get out, but... I don't know, maybe the actual experience is still a good thing, on the whole."
Billy shrugs, and finishes off the frozen yogurt.
***
Billy spends Thursday in a marathon session of support requests. Income is always a good thing, after all, even if the people asking the questions must have been standing behind the door when the intelligence genes were doled out. (Which makes a lot of sense, in a way; the door probably kept smacking them in the face while they were back there.) There are some days that Billy really can't believe how many stupid people get sucked into World of Warcraft, but at least doing the support stuff pays well.
Friday turns into having a look at the original Trans-Matter Ray, but it's every bit as recalcitrant as it has been this whole time. Odds are good it's time to call in a second pair of eyes, but Billy doesn't know who that would be; Moist would be just as likely to screw it up even more by his presence alone as he would to spot the problem, Conflict Diamond is far better with security-related technology than she is with Billy's sort of mad science, and anyone else finding out about the situation... well, that would almost definitely be a recipe for disaster.
Billy's busy dreading the thought of having to take the thing apart entirely, the better to get to the bottom of this, when Conflict Diamond drops by.
"Well," she says, "I see you're still stuck."
Billy jumps about a foot. "God, don't - don't just barge in like that."
"Sorry." She doesn't sound particularly sorry, but Billy wasn't really expecting her to. She may not officially tie herself to any one group, but that doesn't mean she can't be devious. "I just thought it might be a good idea to see how things were going."
"Not well. Not well at all. I think I need a second pair of eyes."
"Well, I can try, but I make no promises."
"Understood." Billy hands her the Trans-Matter Ray - after making sure it's switched off, of course, it wouldn't be good to mess up someone else's stuff by accident - and Conflict Diamond takes it and examines it for a few minutes.
"I'm afraid this one's beyond my expertise," she finally says, actually sounding a little apologetic this time. "You might have a look at your wiring, but I can't tell you what might be wrong with it, or even if that's the problem for sure."
"Well, it's an angle I hadn't really looked into yet, at least. Thanks." Billy sighs. "You weren't planning on telling me I've already blown half of my deadline, were you? Because I do kind of already know that part."
"Would you like me to?"
"No. Please. I'm working on it, and I'm - I'll figure something out."
Conflict Diamond smiles. "Oh, I don't doubt that you will. One only hopes that you can do it in time."
"I will." Billy certainly hopes so, since the idea of having a period still doesn't sound very fun at all.
Conflict Diamond hangs around for another ten or so minutes, then heads off, probably for another 'appointment' with a jewelry store. Once she's gone, Billy has a closer look at the Trans-Matter Ray's wiring, but that proves every bit as unhelpful as every other tactic so far.
Maybe it's the lateness of the hour, but it's just too frustrating to deal with in any frame of mind that'll get anything halfway useful done, so Billy decides to call it a night.
***
Saturday comes, and Billy doesn't have to think twice about going to the laundromat - it's as second nature as it ever was, with the added bonus of actually talking to Penny. Billy even stops by the frozen yogurt stand before going in; that stuff was surprisingly good, and there's no harm in establishing a tradition with something they both like. It might even carry over after the metaphorical dust settles, depending on how that goes.
Penny's already there when Billy gets in, loading up a washer; she grins, when she turns around and sees the frozen yogurt bag. "Hey. Guess I got Larry some new business, then."
"You could say that. I got two - want one?"
"Sure. Thanks." Penny takes one of the cups, and Billy starts loading up a washer before digging into the other.
"So," Penny says, "how're things?"
"Not bad, on the whole. Had some really special support requests the other day. You have any idea how people who can't figure out how to log in ever made it past the sign-up screen?"
"...Having never tried World of Warcraft myself, I couldn't say. It's a wonder you don't get more people trying to drag the game into their everyday lives."
Billy sighs. "Oh, we get that. People threatening suicide because they can't get their twinked-out mage into a guild, spouses and significant others pulling the plug on accounts because the account holder's paying more attention to the game than to them, all kinds of fun stuff. Oh, and the people who try to sign up without making sure their graphics card is up to the task."
"Aren't most computers good for it, these days? I mean, I can see where it would be an issue with older things."
"Most, yeah, but not everyone has new-ish equipment. We had someone try to sign up last year who honestly thought they'd get the game to run on an Atari."
Penny laughs, as best as one can around a spork. "There's almost logic to that one, if you squint, but World of Warcraft is a lot more complicated than Pong."
"Yeah, just a little. How about things with you?"
"Also not too bad. We're finishing the petition drive for the shelter this weekend, and we'll probably have the final count soon. As for Captain Hammer..." Penny trails off, then shrugs. "He's... okay, I guess."
"You don't sound too sure about that."
"It's complicated. I mean - there's got to be some good in him, right? Or he wouldn't be much of a hero. And he was sweet the first couple of times we went out, but... I don't know. Lately, it seems like all he wants to talk about is himself."
Billy has to think for a few moments to come up with some relatively neutral phraseology. "I've heard a lot that would say it's pretty standard for him to want to talk about himself. More than most people do, anyway - everyone's got their own agenda to push."
"True. And, well, it definitely doesn't have to be about me all the time rather than him, but it'd be nice if his eyes didn't glaze over every time the conversation didn't put him on a pedestal."
"That - and I know you're going to argue incurable optimism here, but that may not be something you can get him to stop. If he knows he's doing it, he's probably just fine with acting like that."
Penny shrugs, and eats some more of her frozen yogurt. "I don't know. He said he might come by here at some point today. Maybe you could offer an opinion after that."
It takes considerable effort for Billy not to bolt at that news - but then, Captain Hammer's dense enough, and Billy's been quiet enough over the last couple of weeks, that they can probably navigate an encounter without everything falling to pieces. "Well, if he does show, and I'm still here... I guess we'll find out."
They move on to other topics, around finishing their frozen yogurts and dealing with their laundry, and Billy allows for some cautious hope that Captain Hammer won't put in an appearance after all - but he does show up, with only minutes to spare on Penny's dryer. It figures. Penny makes introductions, Billy resists the urge to insist that they're meeting now for the first time - it might have been worth saying, under normal circumstances, but this isn't terribly normal - and Captain Hammer starts laying on the smarm. Anyone else might think it was charm, but Billy knows better, by now.
"Oh, the laundry buddy!" Captain Hammer grins. "So good to meet you. You know, you look horribly familiar. Sort of."
Billy shrugs, careful to stay nonchalant. "One of those faces, I guess."
Fortunately, Captain Hammer lets the subject drop - apparently, Billy doesn't look familiar enough for him to really prod at the idea. Less fortunately, that turns out to be because he's got some self-adulation in mind.
"So, who wants to know what the mayor's up to behind closed doors?" How he managed to make that sound filthy, Billy would really rather not know. "He's agreed to sign over a vacant building to a certain Caring Hands homeless shelter."
Penny's eyes light up, in an exact counterpart to Billy's heart sinking. "Really?"
"Seems the only signature he needed was my fist. ...Holding a pen. That I was... signing with. But anyway, yeah."
"Oh, that's wonderful. Thank you." Penny leans over and kisses him - only a brief peck, but still kind of painful for Billy to see - then jumps, at the sound of a dryer buzzing. "Oh, I think that's me."
Once she's gone to see to her clothes, Captain Hammer turns to Billy, smarmy grin in place. "So, you interested in coming by my place tonight?"
Billy blinks; that was very much unexpected, especially after the 'horribly familiar' line. "Do you say that to everyone you meet?"
"I never say no to showing a girl a good time."
"And... what about the fact that you came by here to meet your girlfriend?"
Captain Hammer actually laughs, at that. "Pfft. Girlfriend. They never last past the first night in bed with me anyway. She's nice and impressed by this shelter crap, and that'll keep her around for, what, another week? And then she'll be so overwhelmed by how good I am that she won't be able to bear coming back for more."
"You... do know that doesn't really make any sense, right?"
"Logic is for loser freaks who want to take over the world. Not that they have much of it, or no one would call it mad science. So, how about it?"
"I. Really think not. You're about as far from my type as it's possible to get."
Penny comes back with her laundry, effectively ending the conversation before it can get any more awkward than it already is (which could be a new world record, frankly). Billy's left to watch them go, feeling more than a little queasy after that encounter.
Just when she thought Captain Hammer couldn't sink any lower, he plumbed new depths. New, completely sickening depths. More than ever, she can't believe people hold the guy up as a model citizen, can't believe Penny's buying into the false sincerity of the shelter thing, can't believe he'd be so cavalier in his treatment of girls...
Maybe that's part of his problem, Billy thinks. If Captain Hammer had to spend some time as a girl, he might understand how being such a jackass actually gets in his own way.
Billy grins. This, finally, is a plan she can work with; what better way to take down the Corporate Tool than through a quite literal emasculation? And if it's not devious enough for the Evil League of Evil, it had damned well ought to be. Putting someone through that kind of psychological workout certainly isn't nice; Billy didn't even set out to do it, and she's learned that quite well.
And then the reality of a small but crucial part of that thought process sinks in, and Billy almost doesn't register the dryer buzzing.
***
It's got to be bad. Billy can't even work on the best plan ever for taking down Captain Hammer, and really, that's not only mad science but the ultimate in goal fulfillment.
But that's probably got something to do with the fact that the plan is so closely tied to the mess that it's not as much of a distraction as Billy would like it to be. Before the plan can work, Billy needs to know how to replicate what happened in the first place - and knowing how to fix it might be a good idea, too, just in case Captain Hammer learns enough to grovel copiously for all his transgressions.
And that all leads to the big thing that Billy can't place. How long was he dodging self-referential pronouns in his thought processes, before that moment in the laundromat? Why is he having to make a conscious effort to actually use the one that's fit like a glove since he was born - at least, until recently?
When, exactly, did wanting to know how to reverse the effect become less urgent and more academic, for all that bleeding for a week every month still doesn't sound like Billy's idea of a picnic?
And why, of all the possible times, did the identity crisis pick now to hit? It would be bad enough on its own, but with the League demanding action and wanting to see it yesterday, and Captain Hammer setting Penny up for a truly nasty fall, and Penny herself... well, Billy's not sure how to read that, but knows she probably won't be too impressed if she ever finds out she's been semi-unintentionally lied to for weeks now...
It's enough to make Billy want to get a gallon or so of ice cream and then block out the rest of the world for days on end, and that's exactly what she ends up doing.