Yuletide post-reveal commentary the second
(Still not a musical.)
What a (Hench)man's Gotta Do
This was a treat written for speccygeekgrrl, since I went letter-trawling and the prompt jumped on my brainpan and would not let go, as follows: It's cool being the sidekick to the new rising star of villainy, but it's a lot harder being the only person who can see the change from Dr. Horrible, idealistic wannabe, to Dr. Horrible, clinically depressed supervillain. Moist is going to cheer him up... or get a lot of things pretty damp trying.
See? IT WAS MADE FOR ME TO WRITE IT. Of course, it was also bloody obvious that I did write it, so. XD
If you long to burn an effigy
It should be of a man who's lost his way
--"Effigy" - Andrew Bird
The not-exactly-chorus to this song is really what led me to use the song in some fashion connected to this fic. It's a bit long to use as an epigraph, though. I toyed with using a line as the title, until the obvious struck me. For reference, the chorus-thing:
It could be you, it could be me
Walk in the door, drinking for free
Carrying on with your conspiracies
Filling the room with a sense of unease
Fake conversations on a nonexistent telephone
Like the words of a man who's spent a little too much time alone
It just... strikes me as where Doc's head is, before Moist takes up the cause.
It's been a long day, and Moist can't decide whether finding out he missed the beginning of poker night, when he gets to the Union's main bar, makes it better or worse. The games are great for entertainment, but they're usually best savored from the beginning.
Not to mention, one of the cowboys is playing tonight. What with one thing and another, he really could have done without that.
Conflict Diamond's bartending, and that's at least a welcome sight; she's got Moist's usual four glasses of water at the ready by the time he gets to the bar.
Between poker night and Conflict Diamond, I managed to give away in the first three paragraphs that this was me - more so once I got to Conflict Diamond's role in the story beyond bartending. Oh well?
"No, actually, make me a Pink Pummeler."
This is one of a few drinks I've made up to liven up Moist and Conflict Diamond's occasional bartending shifts at milliways_bar; it seemed fitting to use one here, and Pink Pummeler is the most lightweight of those. Others so far include Bad Horse (a mint julep made with vodka) and Bait and Switch (blue raspberry vodka and whatever fruity liqueur is on hand; sure, it's sweet now, but you'll regret the hell out of it in the morning).
"I do not keep boxing gloves of any color back here," she replies, but grabs another glass regardless. "It must be a bad day, if you're actually having alcohol."
"More like a bad three weeks." Moist helps himself to one of the glasses of water; he'll go through that and then some, especially if he's actually having a drink.
"I find that a very interesting time frame, considering."
"Yeah, well. Business is good - relatively speaking, of course - and all, but--" There's a commotion at the poker table, and they both pause long enough to see what's up. Moist would guess Bait either bluffed low or traded hands with Switch, if her attempt at an innocent face is any sign.
I have to imagine poker night - and whatever other intermittent things the Henchmen's Union throws together - would be a riot to watch, even if one weren't actively involved.
Conflict Diamond finishes pouring out the hard lemonade without missing a beat. "You were saying?"
"Doc... hasn't been himself. I don't think he's slept since he got into the League - if he has, it hasn't been enough. I know he hasn't eaten except for when I've taken a pizza or something over. There's no life to the heists, and for all he says there's nothing creative or elegant about killing people, he's not really bothering to do anything creative or elegant to prove his point. And I don't know what to do."
"I think you're the only person who considers care and feeding of their employer part of their job description." Conflict Diamond tops off the drink with grenadine and hands it over. "But then, no one else works for Dr. Horrible."
If Doc's henchman didn't see care and feeding as part of the job description, he would've died of forgetting to eat and sleep in a fit of inspiration long ago.
"And I doubt they ever will. Like, five people have offered to hench for him, since... since he got in, and he's turned them all down."
"Perhaps he is comfortable with what he has, in that regard."
Moist shrugs. "I don't know. I half thought I'd be gone as soon as he got in. I mean, it's not like I'm good for a whole lot. But he seems to still want me around, and I'm not gonna complain. I just... what good does it do for him to be this successful if he's not himself to enjoy it?"
There's another fuss from the direction of the poker table, starting with, "You looked a minute into the future again?" Moist has to wonder how Hourglass somehow never seems to see the brawl coming - or maybe she does, and she doesn't care that it is.
"Perhaps this falls under the care and feeding of your employer," Conflict Diamond says, when the fuss dies down (for the time being, at least).
"Maybe. You think he'll even let me try?"
"More likely you than anyone else, I should say. I would help you form a plan, but I have... an appointment this weekend."
Moist nods. "And where's this jewelry store pulling stuff from?"
"They do not say, beyond West Africa. But that's more than enough for me."
And this is definitely where it's obvious I wrote this, as it ties in my backstory for Conflict Diamond.
"Well, if I haven't thought of something by then--"
There's a crack; when Moist turns around, the cowboy is gone, along with a good portion of the pot.
"I'll let you know," he finishes, and finally polishes off his drink. "Thanks for hearing me out, anyway."
"Of course. It is part of a bartender's job, after all."
"You could tune me out if you wanted. Just about everyone else does."
Conflict Diamond barely has time to shake her head before Bait sighs, and walks over from what's left of the poker game. "Well, that was fun," she says. "Anyone up for a drinking contest?"
"The Union has not restocked recently enough to keep up with your liver," Conflict Diamond replies. "Absolutely not."
In my head, Bait's superpowers are stunningly good looks and an indestructible liver - and she was drinking people under the table when she was still calling herself 'Jailbait' (that was before she reached the age of majority and met Switch).
"Damn."
***
Moist lets the matter percolate for a few days, and decides Conflict Diamond's right - especially after he tries for a regular visit and finds Doc so sleep-deprived he's trying to do laundry in his dishwasher. Snapping Doc out of this funk, as much as anything short of Penny coming back to life will be able to, definitely falls under 'care and feeding.'
The real trick is going to be figuring out what he can do to help. He's always been boxed in by the whole sweating thing, and not just in terms of badass potential; if he's going to do this right, he'll probably need Conflict Diamond's offer of backup.
The resurrection thing is out of the question. Even if Moist didn't think the prospect was sketchy at best and sure to end in disaster at worst (there are some things you just don't mess with, and Doc would never forgive himself if he couldn't get past 'brain-eating zombie'), he doesn't have the know-how to pull it off by himself. He'll help out if Doc ever wants to try it, of course - part of the job description and all that - but there's no good way to pull it off as a random present.
As I explored in an NYR I wrote for last year's Yuletide prompts, I do think Doc is genre-savvy enough to pull off a coherent resurrection (if one suitably complicated for a Whedon 'verse). Moist, however, is dubious about the prospect as a whole and very sure he couldn't pull it off by himself.
...Also, this may in fact be my first Dr. Horrible fic where Penny doesn't either live, get briefly resurrected, or have the opportunity to be brought back. Can you tell I have Issues with Act III?
But much beyond that, the ideas get pretty hard to come by. Doc has never really talked much about his non-evil interests - not the ones that aren't Penny, anyway. Moist can understand why he wouldn't, but now he's kind of wishing he had some of those details. As things stand, he's not really sure where to start, other than mad science.
In the end, he figures it can't hurt to run with what he knows. But doing so is almost certainly going to take more help than just Conflict Diamond can give him, and that part needs some careful consideration. It's all well and good to have one promise of help from a neutral party, but she's invulnerable, not capable of being in two places at once.
He rules out Bait and Switch pretty quickly; if he's going to get anything halfway useful done, he needs to be more sure than not that the backup won't decide they'd rather do something else at the last minute. The singing cowboys are also right out, partly because the could get called away at any time and partly because... well, they kinda tell Bad Horse everything.
And the idea here is to cheer Doc up, not get him in trouble for being too depressed to be effective. He only said as much as he did at the bar because... whichever of the cowboys it was was involved in the poker game.
Moist considers asking the Purple Pimp - if they came up short, he could always bring a few of his girls along - but ultimately nixes that idea. Last he heard, the Pimp was helping Dead Bowie with something, and that could be just as disastrous as the cowboys. Fortunately, all that hasn't exhausted the pool, and he'd probably only need two more pairs of hands anyway.
***
He talks to the Pink Pummeler first, as he has a feeling that's going to be the easier conversation to get through. Pink's a little dubious about having to leave his boxing gloves at home, but the thought of some heavy lifting doesn't bother him at all.
"Not to mention, I can beat the shit out of anyone who asks the wrong questions," he says, and Moist grins.
"Exactly. Now I just have to hope Hourglass doesn't stonewall me."
"You could always ask one of the League's lawyers, if she does."
Moist shakes his head. "Those guys would find some kind of loophole to get out of it and screw this over. I think I'll pass."
He's less worried about the possible stonewalling than he is about having to talk to Hourglass at all. It can be a really unnerving experience, if she's not on top of her game - and a lot of the times she is on top of her game, really.
So he gives it a couple of days before trying to track her down. When he does find her, outside one of the Union's backup meeting spots, she says, "And why are you asking me?" before Moist so much as opens his mouth.
...Not one of her better days, then.
Can I just say, writing a non-linear conversation is bloody hard. I have so much more respect for Mrs. Cake's 'I left my precognition on' conversations in the Discworld books, now; Pratchett does it flawlessly.
"Um." Moist hesitates for a second; he always feels ridiculous, talking to Hourglass on what he thinks of as her Mrs. Cake days, but he at least knows how to see them through. "Hi. I'm working on something for Doc, and I could use some help."
"There are other people you could ask, if that's all you require."
"Be...cause if I try to move all this stuff around by myself, it's gonna end in tears. I need some extra pairs of hands. Dry ones."
Moist is very aware of his limitations.
Hourglass sighs. "All right, all right. But it's still on you to sell me on your plan."
"I already have, but there's enough to this that I need more than one person to help. Could you... maybe stop doing that? It's giving me a headache."
There's a pause of a few seconds, and Moist isn't sure what's going to happen next - sometimes, Hourglass can't help being one sentence ahead of everyone else - but then she smiles a little. "At least you know how to have a non-linear conversation. The last time the cowboys tried, I had a migraine for a week. Now, about your plan and why you feel the need to involve me?"
Moist sighs. "In a nutshell, Doc's on his way to a slump, if he hasn't technically hit one already, and I want to try to pull him out of it before things get nasty."
"Oh, please. He's not going to destroy the world or anything."
"And on what grounds are you making that call?"
Hourglass rolls her eyes. "You're being way too paranoid about this for anyone's good. You're Dr. Horrible's henchman, not his baby-sitter. You can let him pull out of this on his own."
"Just... humor me for a second and consider the possibility that I do nothing. I'll buy you a drink to make up for it, but you probably already knew that."
"Of course I did." Hourglass does let her eyes glaze over, though, which is a sign that she's humoring him after all; when she comes back to the present, she's frowning. "Yikes. I think I see your point. Okay, count me in. What's the plan?"
I don't know what she saw, but I'm sure it wasn't pretty.
Moist decides he's not going to ask what spooked her into agreeing to help. If it won't be happening, he'd rather not scare himself with it.
***
The plan is that Moist foots the bill - easy as pie, after all the heists where people just handed him and Doc the money - and keeps Doc out of his own apartment so everyone else can do their thing. Conflict Diamond's got lock picking down to an art (including locking the door behind herself), and she and Pink have been over a couple of times each - enough to know how Doc likes things set up - so Moist isn't too worried about that part. As long as the stuff shows up on time, that part of the plan should go smoothly.
It's keeping Doc out of the apartment that's going to be really tricky. But that's why Moist is on diversion duty - well, aside from the fact that the whole sweating thing would ruin the rest of the plan. He's not one to back down from a challenge, not when there's a chance he can meet it.
He makes sure they avoid the laundromat, not to mention the neighborhood where the homeless shelter's new building is. Moist is glad they opened despite everything, and all, but... well. If the point's cheering Doc up, they're better off avoiding bad memories.
Doc's pretty morose all through lunch - at an all-you-can-eat Chinese place, since Moist has a feeling all Doc can eat will be at least four plates. He's right about that much, at least, and he makes sure the conversation stays on relatively neutral terms while they're eating.
(Well, other than a few jokes at Captain Hammer's expense. Even with the circumstances, Doc finds them at least a little amusing, maybe because it's been such a long time coming.)
"Have you been working on anything lately?" Moist asks, as he starts them on a scenic route back to Doc's apartment. Doc doesn't even seem to notice they're not taking the most direct way back; if Moist weren't already worried, that would have set off the alarms right there.
Doc shrugs. "The Trans-Matter Ray still needs some work. Not sure what direction to take it in, though. And I was thinking about having a look at your... situation, again. Least I could do, after everything."
I think Doc has poked at the excessive-sweating thing a few times, since Moist started working for/hanging out with him. But he's been distracted by lack of resources as often as by a shiny new project.
"Promise me you'll get some sleep before you start messing with my body chemistry?"
...I love that line. Just wanted to say.
"Can't sleep, dreams will eat me." Doc sighs. "Not that it matters. Last time I got stalled out because I don't have what I need to do all the tests, and Professor Normal keeps claiming seniority privileges on the League's lab. I wouldn't mind if he were even in there half the time he says he is."
From that alone, Moist knows he had the right idea - but he can't let that on, just yet. "Maybe he's jealous."
"Probably. he keeps saying there's only room for one mad scientist, and I think he would've tried more than running me out of the lab and bitching at me if not for..."
"If not for certain iron hooves we could mention?"
They're a bunch of villains. No way do they put up a united front all the time.
Doc nods. "A couple of those meetings have actually gotten really nasty. Not the united front the press puts out there."
"Yeah, well, if people knew it wasn't a united front, they wouldn't be half as scared. Bad Horse probably has a deal with the Yellow Journalist, or something."
For a throwaway name, the Yellow Journalist has a hell of a lot of personality; I even mentioned her in the NYR I wrote for this round. But there's nothing wrong with that happening! ::eyes Conflict Diamond:: ::and Hourglass, come to that::
"You think? I would've guessed tabloids, myself. The stuff that does get out is more that style."
Moist shrugs. "Tabloids developed because they couldn't put that kind of stuff in normal newspapers anymore, if I remember right. Probably where that impression comes from."
"I guess."
It's another twenty minutes or so from there to Doc's apartment. Moist keeps him talking the whole way there; it's never particularly cheerful, but it keeps Doc from getting completely lost in his own head. He'll take that over nothing, especially since there's been a whole lot of nothing in the last few weeks.
There's no sign that anything unusual's happened, when they get to the apartment building. Moist just hopes that doesn't mean the delivery never showed up.
Doc pauses halfway through unlocking his apartment door. "Something wrong?"
"No. Why would there be?"
"You'd know better than I would, I'm sure."
Moist sighs. He's never been a very good liar, probably a side effect of the while sweating thing. But the game will be up in a few seconds, one way or another, so he doesn't bother elaborating yet.
Sure enough, Doc pauses about two steps inside the door. "Okay, I know I didn't leave the lab door open."
"Oh?"
"I never do, unless I stop to eat. You know that. What's going--" But the question disappears when Doc gets to the lab's door; once Moist actually gets a look at the finished product, he can see why.
"Wow. I did better than I thought."
"You... what?"
"Best stuff I could find. And as much waterproofed stuff as I could find. Kind of amazed the delivery guys actually showed up when they said they would, but... well. I got Conflict Diamond and Hourglass and Pink to set it up, while we were out."
If Moist is going to spring for a lab overhaul, he's damn well going to make sure he can help out a little more often without frying himself and/or the equipment.
Doc blinks a few times - not quite his nervous blink, but close. "What's it going to cost you?" he says, still sounding a little stunned.
"Hourglass is probably gonna have me buying her drinks for a month or so. But I can live with that." Moist hesitates for a second, then says, "So... what do you think?"
Doc just stands there for a few seconds. "Next time you want to do something like this, just tell me," he finally says.
But he's smiling, for the first time Moist's seen in weeks.
***
A couple days later, Moist goes down to the Union's main bar, mostly with an aim to drop off his dues now that he's got some dollar coins. Conflict Diamond's bartending again, without the backdrop of a poker game this time; after Moist drops his dues in the box, she pours him a glass of water and says, "You owe me one."
"Do I?"
"The delivery service tried to call and postpone. I suggested that they would hardly benefit from doing that to Dr. Horrible, and they not only showed up early, but took away the old equipment at no additional charge."
Moist grins. "I'd wondered about that part. Guess I do owe you one, then. You have anything in particular in mind?"
"I may have use for your talent soon, if I decide to make a move on a store I've been watching."
"...You know, you're the only person I've ever heard call it a talent? Not even Doc does."
Well, someone has to see his potential. Moist sure as hell doesn't see it.
Conflict Diamond shrugs, and refills Moist's glass. "You have more potential than you know. Perhaps one day, you'll see it. In any case, the store in question prides itself on its electronic security system, and I have my doubts as to whether I can disable it by myself."
"But you think a little localised moisture would do the trick?"
"I'm certain of it. You need not come in, if you'd rather not - the outdoor alarm is far stronger than the one on the inner office."
Moist nods. "Let me know, if you go for it. As long as Doc doesn't need me for anything, I should be able to help."
"I will."
They talk about other stuff while Moist finishes his water - whether there'll be another poker game before the year's out, mostly. When Moist heads out, he's got a lot on his mind.
But then, it's been a pretty busy couple of weeks, getting Doc's lab overhaul put together. His employer and best friend is acting a lot more like his old self - they're not out of the woods yet, Moist is sure, but it's a start. As for Conflict Diamond calling it a talent... well, it's not the first time she's done that.
Maybe one of these days, he'll actually understand why. For now, things are looking up, and Moist will take that.
What a (Hench)man's Gotta Do
This was a treat written for speccygeekgrrl, since I went letter-trawling and the prompt jumped on my brainpan and would not let go, as follows: It's cool being the sidekick to the new rising star of villainy, but it's a lot harder being the only person who can see the change from Dr. Horrible, idealistic wannabe, to Dr. Horrible, clinically depressed supervillain. Moist is going to cheer him up... or get a lot of things pretty damp trying.
See? IT WAS MADE FOR ME TO WRITE IT. Of course, it was also bloody obvious that I did write it, so. XD
If you long to burn an effigy
It should be of a man who's lost his way
--"Effigy" - Andrew Bird
The not-exactly-chorus to this song is really what led me to use the song in some fashion connected to this fic. It's a bit long to use as an epigraph, though. I toyed with using a line as the title, until the obvious struck me. For reference, the chorus-thing:
It could be you, it could be me
Walk in the door, drinking for free
Carrying on with your conspiracies
Filling the room with a sense of unease
Fake conversations on a nonexistent telephone
Like the words of a man who's spent a little too much time alone
It just... strikes me as where Doc's head is, before Moist takes up the cause.
It's been a long day, and Moist can't decide whether finding out he missed the beginning of poker night, when he gets to the Union's main bar, makes it better or worse. The games are great for entertainment, but they're usually best savored from the beginning.
Not to mention, one of the cowboys is playing tonight. What with one thing and another, he really could have done without that.
Conflict Diamond's bartending, and that's at least a welcome sight; she's got Moist's usual four glasses of water at the ready by the time he gets to the bar.
Between poker night and Conflict Diamond, I managed to give away in the first three paragraphs that this was me - more so once I got to Conflict Diamond's role in the story beyond bartending. Oh well?
"No, actually, make me a Pink Pummeler."
This is one of a few drinks I've made up to liven up Moist and Conflict Diamond's occasional bartending shifts at milliways_bar; it seemed fitting to use one here, and Pink Pummeler is the most lightweight of those. Others so far include Bad Horse (a mint julep made with vodka) and Bait and Switch (blue raspberry vodka and whatever fruity liqueur is on hand; sure, it's sweet now, but you'll regret the hell out of it in the morning).
"I do not keep boxing gloves of any color back here," she replies, but grabs another glass regardless. "It must be a bad day, if you're actually having alcohol."
"More like a bad three weeks." Moist helps himself to one of the glasses of water; he'll go through that and then some, especially if he's actually having a drink.
"I find that a very interesting time frame, considering."
"Yeah, well. Business is good - relatively speaking, of course - and all, but--" There's a commotion at the poker table, and they both pause long enough to see what's up. Moist would guess Bait either bluffed low or traded hands with Switch, if her attempt at an innocent face is any sign.
I have to imagine poker night - and whatever other intermittent things the Henchmen's Union throws together - would be a riot to watch, even if one weren't actively involved.
Conflict Diamond finishes pouring out the hard lemonade without missing a beat. "You were saying?"
"Doc... hasn't been himself. I don't think he's slept since he got into the League - if he has, it hasn't been enough. I know he hasn't eaten except for when I've taken a pizza or something over. There's no life to the heists, and for all he says there's nothing creative or elegant about killing people, he's not really bothering to do anything creative or elegant to prove his point. And I don't know what to do."
"I think you're the only person who considers care and feeding of their employer part of their job description." Conflict Diamond tops off the drink with grenadine and hands it over. "But then, no one else works for Dr. Horrible."
If Doc's henchman didn't see care and feeding as part of the job description, he would've died of forgetting to eat and sleep in a fit of inspiration long ago.
"And I doubt they ever will. Like, five people have offered to hench for him, since... since he got in, and he's turned them all down."
"Perhaps he is comfortable with what he has, in that regard."
Moist shrugs. "I don't know. I half thought I'd be gone as soon as he got in. I mean, it's not like I'm good for a whole lot. But he seems to still want me around, and I'm not gonna complain. I just... what good does it do for him to be this successful if he's not himself to enjoy it?"
There's another fuss from the direction of the poker table, starting with, "You looked a minute into the future again?" Moist has to wonder how Hourglass somehow never seems to see the brawl coming - or maybe she does, and she doesn't care that it is.
"Perhaps this falls under the care and feeding of your employer," Conflict Diamond says, when the fuss dies down (for the time being, at least).
"Maybe. You think he'll even let me try?"
"More likely you than anyone else, I should say. I would help you form a plan, but I have... an appointment this weekend."
Moist nods. "And where's this jewelry store pulling stuff from?"
"They do not say, beyond West Africa. But that's more than enough for me."
And this is definitely where it's obvious I wrote this, as it ties in my backstory for Conflict Diamond.
"Well, if I haven't thought of something by then--"
There's a crack; when Moist turns around, the cowboy is gone, along with a good portion of the pot.
"I'll let you know," he finishes, and finally polishes off his drink. "Thanks for hearing me out, anyway."
"Of course. It is part of a bartender's job, after all."
"You could tune me out if you wanted. Just about everyone else does."
Conflict Diamond barely has time to shake her head before Bait sighs, and walks over from what's left of the poker game. "Well, that was fun," she says. "Anyone up for a drinking contest?"
"The Union has not restocked recently enough to keep up with your liver," Conflict Diamond replies. "Absolutely not."
In my head, Bait's superpowers are stunningly good looks and an indestructible liver - and she was drinking people under the table when she was still calling herself 'Jailbait' (that was before she reached the age of majority and met Switch).
"Damn."
***
Moist lets the matter percolate for a few days, and decides Conflict Diamond's right - especially after he tries for a regular visit and finds Doc so sleep-deprived he's trying to do laundry in his dishwasher. Snapping Doc out of this funk, as much as anything short of Penny coming back to life will be able to, definitely falls under 'care and feeding.'
The real trick is going to be figuring out what he can do to help. He's always been boxed in by the whole sweating thing, and not just in terms of badass potential; if he's going to do this right, he'll probably need Conflict Diamond's offer of backup.
The resurrection thing is out of the question. Even if Moist didn't think the prospect was sketchy at best and sure to end in disaster at worst (there are some things you just don't mess with, and Doc would never forgive himself if he couldn't get past 'brain-eating zombie'), he doesn't have the know-how to pull it off by himself. He'll help out if Doc ever wants to try it, of course - part of the job description and all that - but there's no good way to pull it off as a random present.
As I explored in an NYR I wrote for last year's Yuletide prompts, I do think Doc is genre-savvy enough to pull off a coherent resurrection (if one suitably complicated for a Whedon 'verse). Moist, however, is dubious about the prospect as a whole and very sure he couldn't pull it off by himself.
...Also, this may in fact be my first Dr. Horrible fic where Penny doesn't either live, get briefly resurrected, or have the opportunity to be brought back. Can you tell I have Issues with Act III?
But much beyond that, the ideas get pretty hard to come by. Doc has never really talked much about his non-evil interests - not the ones that aren't Penny, anyway. Moist can understand why he wouldn't, but now he's kind of wishing he had some of those details. As things stand, he's not really sure where to start, other than mad science.
In the end, he figures it can't hurt to run with what he knows. But doing so is almost certainly going to take more help than just Conflict Diamond can give him, and that part needs some careful consideration. It's all well and good to have one promise of help from a neutral party, but she's invulnerable, not capable of being in two places at once.
He rules out Bait and Switch pretty quickly; if he's going to get anything halfway useful done, he needs to be more sure than not that the backup won't decide they'd rather do something else at the last minute. The singing cowboys are also right out, partly because the could get called away at any time and partly because... well, they kinda tell Bad Horse everything.
And the idea here is to cheer Doc up, not get him in trouble for being too depressed to be effective. He only said as much as he did at the bar because... whichever of the cowboys it was was involved in the poker game.
Moist considers asking the Purple Pimp - if they came up short, he could always bring a few of his girls along - but ultimately nixes that idea. Last he heard, the Pimp was helping Dead Bowie with something, and that could be just as disastrous as the cowboys. Fortunately, all that hasn't exhausted the pool, and he'd probably only need two more pairs of hands anyway.
***
He talks to the Pink Pummeler first, as he has a feeling that's going to be the easier conversation to get through. Pink's a little dubious about having to leave his boxing gloves at home, but the thought of some heavy lifting doesn't bother him at all.
"Not to mention, I can beat the shit out of anyone who asks the wrong questions," he says, and Moist grins.
"Exactly. Now I just have to hope Hourglass doesn't stonewall me."
"You could always ask one of the League's lawyers, if she does."
Moist shakes his head. "Those guys would find some kind of loophole to get out of it and screw this over. I think I'll pass."
He's less worried about the possible stonewalling than he is about having to talk to Hourglass at all. It can be a really unnerving experience, if she's not on top of her game - and a lot of the times she is on top of her game, really.
So he gives it a couple of days before trying to track her down. When he does find her, outside one of the Union's backup meeting spots, she says, "And why are you asking me?" before Moist so much as opens his mouth.
...Not one of her better days, then.
Can I just say, writing a non-linear conversation is bloody hard. I have so much more respect for Mrs. Cake's 'I left my precognition on' conversations in the Discworld books, now; Pratchett does it flawlessly.
"Um." Moist hesitates for a second; he always feels ridiculous, talking to Hourglass on what he thinks of as her Mrs. Cake days, but he at least knows how to see them through. "Hi. I'm working on something for Doc, and I could use some help."
"There are other people you could ask, if that's all you require."
"Be...cause if I try to move all this stuff around by myself, it's gonna end in tears. I need some extra pairs of hands. Dry ones."
Moist is very aware of his limitations.
Hourglass sighs. "All right, all right. But it's still on you to sell me on your plan."
"I already have, but there's enough to this that I need more than one person to help. Could you... maybe stop doing that? It's giving me a headache."
There's a pause of a few seconds, and Moist isn't sure what's going to happen next - sometimes, Hourglass can't help being one sentence ahead of everyone else - but then she smiles a little. "At least you know how to have a non-linear conversation. The last time the cowboys tried, I had a migraine for a week. Now, about your plan and why you feel the need to involve me?"
Moist sighs. "In a nutshell, Doc's on his way to a slump, if he hasn't technically hit one already, and I want to try to pull him out of it before things get nasty."
"Oh, please. He's not going to destroy the world or anything."
"And on what grounds are you making that call?"
Hourglass rolls her eyes. "You're being way too paranoid about this for anyone's good. You're Dr. Horrible's henchman, not his baby-sitter. You can let him pull out of this on his own."
"Just... humor me for a second and consider the possibility that I do nothing. I'll buy you a drink to make up for it, but you probably already knew that."
"Of course I did." Hourglass does let her eyes glaze over, though, which is a sign that she's humoring him after all; when she comes back to the present, she's frowning. "Yikes. I think I see your point. Okay, count me in. What's the plan?"
I don't know what she saw, but I'm sure it wasn't pretty.
Moist decides he's not going to ask what spooked her into agreeing to help. If it won't be happening, he'd rather not scare himself with it.
***
The plan is that Moist foots the bill - easy as pie, after all the heists where people just handed him and Doc the money - and keeps Doc out of his own apartment so everyone else can do their thing. Conflict Diamond's got lock picking down to an art (including locking the door behind herself), and she and Pink have been over a couple of times each - enough to know how Doc likes things set up - so Moist isn't too worried about that part. As long as the stuff shows up on time, that part of the plan should go smoothly.
It's keeping Doc out of the apartment that's going to be really tricky. But that's why Moist is on diversion duty - well, aside from the fact that the whole sweating thing would ruin the rest of the plan. He's not one to back down from a challenge, not when there's a chance he can meet it.
He makes sure they avoid the laundromat, not to mention the neighborhood where the homeless shelter's new building is. Moist is glad they opened despite everything, and all, but... well. If the point's cheering Doc up, they're better off avoiding bad memories.
Doc's pretty morose all through lunch - at an all-you-can-eat Chinese place, since Moist has a feeling all Doc can eat will be at least four plates. He's right about that much, at least, and he makes sure the conversation stays on relatively neutral terms while they're eating.
(Well, other than a few jokes at Captain Hammer's expense. Even with the circumstances, Doc finds them at least a little amusing, maybe because it's been such a long time coming.)
"Have you been working on anything lately?" Moist asks, as he starts them on a scenic route back to Doc's apartment. Doc doesn't even seem to notice they're not taking the most direct way back; if Moist weren't already worried, that would have set off the alarms right there.
Doc shrugs. "The Trans-Matter Ray still needs some work. Not sure what direction to take it in, though. And I was thinking about having a look at your... situation, again. Least I could do, after everything."
I think Doc has poked at the excessive-sweating thing a few times, since Moist started working for/hanging out with him. But he's been distracted by lack of resources as often as by a shiny new project.
"Promise me you'll get some sleep before you start messing with my body chemistry?"
...I love that line. Just wanted to say.
"Can't sleep, dreams will eat me." Doc sighs. "Not that it matters. Last time I got stalled out because I don't have what I need to do all the tests, and Professor Normal keeps claiming seniority privileges on the League's lab. I wouldn't mind if he were even in there half the time he says he is."
From that alone, Moist knows he had the right idea - but he can't let that on, just yet. "Maybe he's jealous."
"Probably. he keeps saying there's only room for one mad scientist, and I think he would've tried more than running me out of the lab and bitching at me if not for..."
"If not for certain iron hooves we could mention?"
They're a bunch of villains. No way do they put up a united front all the time.
Doc nods. "A couple of those meetings have actually gotten really nasty. Not the united front the press puts out there."
"Yeah, well, if people knew it wasn't a united front, they wouldn't be half as scared. Bad Horse probably has a deal with the Yellow Journalist, or something."
For a throwaway name, the Yellow Journalist has a hell of a lot of personality; I even mentioned her in the NYR I wrote for this round. But there's nothing wrong with that happening! ::eyes Conflict Diamond:: ::and Hourglass, come to that::
"You think? I would've guessed tabloids, myself. The stuff that does get out is more that style."
Moist shrugs. "Tabloids developed because they couldn't put that kind of stuff in normal newspapers anymore, if I remember right. Probably where that impression comes from."
"I guess."
It's another twenty minutes or so from there to Doc's apartment. Moist keeps him talking the whole way there; it's never particularly cheerful, but it keeps Doc from getting completely lost in his own head. He'll take that over nothing, especially since there's been a whole lot of nothing in the last few weeks.
There's no sign that anything unusual's happened, when they get to the apartment building. Moist just hopes that doesn't mean the delivery never showed up.
Doc pauses halfway through unlocking his apartment door. "Something wrong?"
"No. Why would there be?"
"You'd know better than I would, I'm sure."
Moist sighs. He's never been a very good liar, probably a side effect of the while sweating thing. But the game will be up in a few seconds, one way or another, so he doesn't bother elaborating yet.
Sure enough, Doc pauses about two steps inside the door. "Okay, I know I didn't leave the lab door open."
"Oh?"
"I never do, unless I stop to eat. You know that. What's going--" But the question disappears when Doc gets to the lab's door; once Moist actually gets a look at the finished product, he can see why.
"Wow. I did better than I thought."
"You... what?"
"Best stuff I could find. And as much waterproofed stuff as I could find. Kind of amazed the delivery guys actually showed up when they said they would, but... well. I got Conflict Diamond and Hourglass and Pink to set it up, while we were out."
If Moist is going to spring for a lab overhaul, he's damn well going to make sure he can help out a little more often without frying himself and/or the equipment.
Doc blinks a few times - not quite his nervous blink, but close. "What's it going to cost you?" he says, still sounding a little stunned.
"Hourglass is probably gonna have me buying her drinks for a month or so. But I can live with that." Moist hesitates for a second, then says, "So... what do you think?"
Doc just stands there for a few seconds. "Next time you want to do something like this, just tell me," he finally says.
But he's smiling, for the first time Moist's seen in weeks.
***
A couple days later, Moist goes down to the Union's main bar, mostly with an aim to drop off his dues now that he's got some dollar coins. Conflict Diamond's bartending again, without the backdrop of a poker game this time; after Moist drops his dues in the box, she pours him a glass of water and says, "You owe me one."
"Do I?"
"The delivery service tried to call and postpone. I suggested that they would hardly benefit from doing that to Dr. Horrible, and they not only showed up early, but took away the old equipment at no additional charge."
Moist grins. "I'd wondered about that part. Guess I do owe you one, then. You have anything in particular in mind?"
"I may have use for your talent soon, if I decide to make a move on a store I've been watching."
"...You know, you're the only person I've ever heard call it a talent? Not even Doc does."
Well, someone has to see his potential. Moist sure as hell doesn't see it.
Conflict Diamond shrugs, and refills Moist's glass. "You have more potential than you know. Perhaps one day, you'll see it. In any case, the store in question prides itself on its electronic security system, and I have my doubts as to whether I can disable it by myself."
"But you think a little localised moisture would do the trick?"
"I'm certain of it. You need not come in, if you'd rather not - the outdoor alarm is far stronger than the one on the inner office."
Moist nods. "Let me know, if you go for it. As long as Doc doesn't need me for anything, I should be able to help."
"I will."
They talk about other stuff while Moist finishes his water - whether there'll be another poker game before the year's out, mostly. When Moist heads out, he's got a lot on his mind.
But then, it's been a pretty busy couple of weeks, getting Doc's lab overhaul put together. His employer and best friend is acting a lot more like his old self - they're not out of the woods yet, Moist is sure, but it's a start. As for Conflict Diamond calling it a talent... well, it's not the first time she's done that.
Maybe one of these days, he'll actually understand why. For now, things are looking up, and Moist will take that.