Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“But Professor Macopé, you can’t cancel my project. I have somethin’ here, I just know it.”

A chubby chocolate brown Pomeranian tries her best to chase down a bright red macaw with much longer legs than hers but struggles to keep up. The short dog speaks with a slight southern drawl and wears a white lab coat with a silky spring-colored shirt underneath, perfectly matching the hair band in her dark brown flat-ironed hair and coordinating well with her lavender glasses and canary yellow lab gloves.

“Miss Pomeranian,” spouts the macaw in a lab coat. “We cannot waste any more time and resources. We cannot. The National Scientific Showcase is coming up and that project has not yielded any viable results. No viable results. Just help Dirk with his project.”

“But I just think we ain't lookin’ at ‘em in the right way, ya know. I think there is still somethin’ here. If I can just have a couple more weeks, I bet I can-”

“Enough! Enough!” The professor stops and leers at the smaller dog. “Look, I’m not going to waste my time arguing this. Can you even give me one good reason why we should still keep that project? One good reason?”

She pauses for a second, but then slightly smiles as she gives her answer. “Well, KIT is gonna be at the showcase, correct?”

“Of course, they are, what is your point?”

“Well… Word is that they are showcasing five projects this year and without mine, we will also have five projects. But… If we manage to add one more to the mix, we’ll have six whole projects and look just a tiny bit more impressive if you get what I’m sayin’.”

This seems to stop the macaw as he pauses to rub his chin.

“Fine. Fine.” He finally responds. “You have a week. A week! But if you aren’t able to find anything substantial, you are on Dirk’s project, end of story. End of story”

The Pomeranian clasps her hands in joy nearly squealing, “Yes sir! Thank you, sir! Thank you so much! I won’t let you down. I promise.”

He nods and continues down his path, leaving the dog on her own. She giddily makes a U-turn and dashes down the hall. She gives a quick wave to the security guard through the one-sided window, as she always does, and opens a door leading out to the main lobby.

The popping of bubble gum and click clacks of a keyboard greet her the second she enters. She looks over at the main desk spotting a bored gray rabbit staring blankly at his giant desktop. Seems like Peter is still here. The Pomeranian lets out a giant sigh and lies on the table, hoping to alert the rabbit of her presence. However, it fails to do so, probably due to Peter being a butt as usual. He is the kind of person who is nice... when he chooses to be. Luckily she knows just how to catch his attention.

“You will not believe what just happened.” She begins,

The rabbit raised his eyebrow as he continued to click away at his computer.

“...I got Professor Macopé to give me an extra week for my research project.”

“A whole week?” The rabbit repeats, now giving her his full attention. “How’d you handle that?”

“I just, ya know, mentioned a specific rival university,” she said with a proud grin. “Pretty clever, huh.”

Peter chuckled, “Girl, you are too smart. This is why you are in graduate school and I’m workin' as an office clerk.”

“I know he can be kind of harsh sometimes,” she starts, causing Peter to make a face. “But he honestly ain’t that bad once you know how to talk to him. You just gotta be strategic about it… I guess you could say that you gotta know how to ‘cell’ yourself.”

The rabbit gives a heavy sigh.

“Get it.”

“No.”

“Because he’s a professor of Biomedical Science.”

“Stop.”

"And cells are part of-"

"You were sayin'?"

“Well, now I have to figure out how on earth I'm gonna save my project. Or I'll get stuck workin' on Dirk’s.” 

The rabbit clicked his teeth as he shook his head. “Good luck with that.”

“I don’t even know why he needs help. He was literally handed the easiest project in the world. Most of the research was figured out. The most he needs to do is just write a paper.”

“Or steal one?” said another voice.

The dog flipped her head on the desk to see a soft brown hedgehog wearing a tan peacoat, a gold nose piercing, and a beautiful maroon hijab entering from the front door. It was her guardian angel and best friend, Gita.

“Hey, Gita.”

“I am still mad about that by the way, Penelope. You worked so hard on those papers and your name wasn’t even on them… and before you say anything ‘et al.’ is not credit. You deserve better.”

“Come on Gita, it wasn’t that big of a deal. I was just helpin' Professor Macopé with a couple of papers.”

“Help? You practically wrote the entire paper from scratch and Dirk barely did anything,” Gita adds. “Listen, we’ve been roommates since freshman year and you're like a sister to me. I just feel like you are being taken advantage of… And not just from Dirk.”

Penelope turned her head away.

“You are just too nice and trusting." Gita continued. "And I am worried about what is going to happen when I am not here... I know that you don’t like hearing this…”

Penelope flinched. “Gita…”

“But I think you seriously should consider transferring schools like I’ll be doing in a week.”

“Gita… You know I can’t do that.”

“Yes I know you ‘put in so much work here’, ‘this is your dream research program’, and ‘it ain’t that bad’, but I don’t think this is good for you. I can feel the light you had fading. This place is draining you.”

“...”

“I’m not trying to be mean. But just think about it.” Gita stares at her morose friend as she continues to lie on the desk, still facing away from her. The hedgehog walks over and wraps her friend in a quick hug. “...You know I love you.”

“Yeah, I know. You just wanna protect me.” Penelope mumbles out.

They sit in the hug for a couple of seconds before Gita finally lets go and yells “PETER! Finish your work so you can help me pack and watch Pals reruns."

“Yes ma’am,” He said mockingly as he jokingly saluted.

Gita took another glance at Penelope who finally got off the desk and was readjusting her purple tote bag. 

“Are you heading straight home?” Gita asks.

“Nah, I gotta stop by the library first and start my research. I need to start hittin’ the books if I wanna save my project.”

“Alright, but don’t stay out too late. I don’t trust your driving.”

This causes Penelope to make a face. “First of all, my driving is fine, thank you. Second of all, I left my car at home and am takin’ the bus anyway. So forget you.” She sticks out her tongue.

“Whatever,” Gita said in a playful tone. “Just make it home safe.”

“Okay, Mom … Bye Peter!” Penelope shouts, giving a quick wave to the two before dashing out onto the G-Tech campus.

A beautiful azure blue completely blankets the sky leaving not a single cloud in sight. The well-maintained flower beds and trees add a splash of color to the scene along with the picture-perfect grass and spotless stone walkways. It honestly looked just like the postcards sold in the G-Tech campus store. Unfortunately, though, Penelope is unable to enjoy the lovely Spring day as she speedwalks to the library, pulling out her PDA from her tote. She types “SAVE PROJECT” in the to-do list section and returns the PDA to her bag. Now that it is on her list. She must stay focused. Nothing must get in her way.

Eventually, she makes it to an old but well-kept library and enters. A familiar dusty scent instantly hits her nose, finally giving her pause as she takes a bigger sniff and sighs. She loves the smell of old books. She glances around at the ornate cedar furniture and bookshelves that have probably been here for more than half a century. This place has such a nostalgic warm feeling, almost like being at a grandparent's house. Definitely her favorite place on campus. 

But enough with the emotions. It is time to research. Penelope instantly knows where to go as she stops at the biology, then medical, and finally the research section, picking any journal or book that is even slightly close to the subject of her research. After getting a decent pile she cautiously carries the large stack over to the computer desks. 

Praying that her favorite computer desk isn’t taken. She releases a sigh of relief seeing that it is completely free, waiting for her. This is the best one since it is larger than the others due to being at an odd corner. It is also close to the café and the bathrooms, but not enough to be bothered by the sound of bathroom doors opening or baristas taking orders. She happily drops off her books at the desk, sets down her bag, and starts up the computer. Alright, time to work.

It is almost as if a spirit of focus has possessed her as she spends the next couple of hours glued to either screen or page. She didn’t even get her favorite peppermint hot chocolate from the café as she instead scoured everything, anything, for something that could possibly save her project. Unfortunately, despite flipping through every single page and surfing the web for what felt like eons, she couldn’t find anything. Not a single thing. Biscuits. 

She bangs her head on the table, a bit louder than she meant to, and quietly groans. What is she going to do? She worked so hard to get this project off of the ground and already it was falling through the cracks. This was her chance to prove herself as a scientist. This was her chance to impress Professor Macopé and to be taken under his wing. This was her chance to show that… She belonged here. But what if you don’t?  I do. Then why haven’t you accomplished anything?  I have, I- Why does everyone else seem to get ahead a lot quicker than you? Why don't you fit in? Why does everything you touch fall apart?

Penelope immediately scoots out of her chair. That's it. She needs a walk. The little Pomeranian spends about half an hour mindlessly strolling the building as she observes the other patrons in the library. Most of them are poor undergraduate students either pulling their hair out or falling asleep on their mammoth-sized textbooks. She gave an empathetic smile, knowing what it felt like to be in both situations. 

She makes a quick stop by the research section again and starts scanning through the various science journals. She pulls out a couple at random, not even reading the summaries. Maybe one might have the answer, though she doubts it. But what other choice does she have? Penelope tries to pull out her flip-phone out of her bag to check the time. Only to realize that she doesn't have her bag with her. Great. She winces. She'll have to go back. As she starts to drag herself through the room, something catches her attention. 

Poetically, it was a pair of lovers cuddling up into each other on a loveseat. One of the lovebirds whispers something in the other’s ear causing her to giggle wildly. She sneaks a kiss on his cheek, resulting in a wide grin on his face. They looked like they adored each other. Like they were meant for each other. Penelope couldn’t help but feel a sense of... longing. She loved reading stories and watching shows about people falling in love, but never had that experience herself. She never went on dates. She never had a boyfriend. And that usually didn't bother her but...

One of the lovebirds pointed at her and whispered to the other. Now they are staring. Time to go. Penelope dashes away, really hoping that wasn’t as awkward as it came across. Are they still looking at me? I really hope they aren’t looking at me. Why did you do that? Who stares at people like that? Now they think that you are some kind of… But before she could even finish her thoughts her glasses and the journals flew through the air as she crashed into someone, landing on her butt. Great Job.

“Oop, I am so sorry,” Penelope mutters as she pulls herself off the floor and leans forward to find what flew off. “I am such a klutz, let me just get my…”

She finds her glasses quickly and puts them on, getting back the gift of sight. She then reaches out to grab one of the fallen journals, only to instead touch a soft warm gloved hand. Her heart skipped a beat as she slowly raised her head, getting a good look at the mysterious stranger in front of her. 

He had mesmerizing hypnotic blue eyes that she instantly got lost in. He had soft raven black hair that rolled back like a giant wave in a dark sea. And his face. Oh, his face. This man could be an actor. There was something about this guy. Something that was just so magnetic. So captivating. And yet… intimidating. She couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to look away… Sweet corn cob this man was fine.

“My apologies.” He responds in a rich velvety voice. 

“I accept your apology.” She says without thinking. “I-I mean… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to knock you down. You’re just really pretty. I mean...” What am I doing?

He chuckles as he quickly picks himself off the floor. His dark gray polo and tan khakis elegantly hug his body, showing off his tall and slightly lanky, but also rather athletic build.

“That is quite alright, my dear.” He says as he brushes himself off. "Allow me to help you up."

He delicately reaches out his hand, which seems to break Penelope out of her daze as she gingerly places her hand in his, allowing him to swiftly but gently pull her up.

“Th-thank you.” She bashfully mumbles, thinking about his soft and yet strong grip.

“You are very welcome... I do have to say, I am quite curious about what put you in such a rush. You seemed to be in quite a hurry.”

She could feel her cheeks heat up as if they were stoves. “O-oh uh, I was just… rushin’ to get back to my studies. Gotta learn. Ha ha.” This is so embarrassing.

He playfully raises his eyebrow. “Is that so? What are you studying?”

Her heart was pumping way faster than is biologically possible. “O-oh uh… Biomedical science. I’m actually a grad student. ”

“Biomedical science.” He said with enthusiasm. “What an incredible field of study. And a graduate student nonetheless. That is quite impressive.”

“O-oh thanks… It isn’t that big of a deal, honestly.”

“Not that big of a deal? Sweetheart, that is an extremely big deal. You are contributing to a field that is saving millions upon millions of lives every year. The world is a better place because of people like you. And being a graduate student is not a simple feat. You deserve to give yourself more credit.”

“O-oh uh yeah. I guess you’re right… I guess I get so caught up in my work that I forget sometimes.” She nervously twirls her hair.

The man gives a sympathetic smile which then brightens as if an idea popped into his head “I wonder if you would be interested in accompanying me on a short walk around campus. I heard there is a superb ice cream parlor somewhere and I have yet to find it. Perhaps you can assist me.”

Is he? “O-oh that sounds great. B-but I can’t. I gotta keep doin’ my research and I don’t really have a lot of time and I’m just so busy and… Ya know.” Wait, why are you saying no?

He frowns a bit but gives a nod of understanding. “I see. I guess I assumed it would be beneficial for you to take some time off of your hard work. But your work is quite important and I do not wish to pressure you. It was a pleasure speaking with you. I hope we see each other again.” And with that, he turns and starts to leave. 

Penelope turns and starts to walk away. But can’t help but look back at the mysterious man walking away. Oh no, he’s going away. You gotta do your work. But can’t it wait? It ain't like the books are going to walk away. No, you only have a week. Focus. But maybe I could use the break. We just came back from a break. Come on this guy looks like a movie star and this feels straight out of a romance novel. Are we running away from what feels like destiny? Are we really going to miss this once-in-a-lifetime experience? …Fine. Do it for the hot guy. Yeah! Hot guy! But you better get goin’. He’s leavin’ fast.

“Wait!” She bursts out, completely forgetting that she was in a library. 

This earned her a couple of glares to which she whispered a couple of apologies to. Thankfully though this managed to stop the man in his tracks as he turned around to face her, giving her time to briskly, and quietly, run up to him. “Do it for the hot guy.”

“Pardon?” The man questions.

“Huh?”

“Apologies, I missed what you just said.”

Just said… Biscuits. Was that not in her head? She nervously laughs “O-oh um… I-I was saying that I changed my mind. I would love to walk with you to Floyd’s… Uh, the ice cream place… If you still wanna go.”

He gave a grateful smile. “I would love nothing better.”

The two exit the library as Penelope takes the lead, heading in the direction of Floyd's. She could still feel the warm glow in her cheeks, though thankfully her dark complexion helps hide any signs of blushing. Soft pink petals flutter downwards from the magnolia trees that line the pathway. Everything was perfect. It was like they were walking through a painting. The sun shines through the branches resulting in a beautiful vision that pulls at the heartstrings. Though for Penelope it felt like someone was rapidly strumming her heartstrings, causing a massive pounding in her chest.

“This campus is truly gorgeous.” The man says as he takes in his surroundings.

“Y-yeah, G-Tech is known for our pretty lookin’ campus. We’ve even won awards for it.”

“Fitting for such a prestigious school… By the way dear, it occurs to me that we have not properly introduced ourselves.”

“O-oh uh yeah, you’re right! Well um… My name is Penelope. Penelope Pomeranian.”

“Penelope…” He repeated with such fondness. “What a beautiful name. Fits you perfectly.” Before she could even respond to the comment he reached out and grabbed her hand. “You may call me Bastion Blotswell. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She thought for a second he was going to kiss her hand, only for him to instead give it a small shake. Though not without adding a quick wink at the end. The blush in her cheeks glows so bright that even her complexion gave up on helping. She turned her head away, hoping he didn’t notice.

They walked in silence for a couple of seconds. But for Penelope, it felt like hours. She wanted so badly to say something but was afraid to unleash a mess of incomprehensible word salad and embarrass herself. However, after sneaking a couple of glances at Bastion and seeing how the sun hits him just right. She realized that, yeah, maybe talking would help.

“S-so uh… You new here?” She sputtered out. 

“In some sense. Though, I do not attend this school. I am a freelance graphic designer. I temporarily moved down here for some work. But I heard brilliant things about this campus as well as their students...” She could have sworn he specifically looked at her as he said that. “I just had to check it out for myself. And I have to say, I like what I see.”

“Y-yeah… I mean. It's a pretty great school.” She said as she stared at her hands, anxiously rubbing them. Talking was not helping. It felt like a hurricane of butterflies in her stomach. She feels like she is going to throw up. This isn't for her. Maybe this all was a mistake.

“Penelope?"

"Yes, Bastion?"

"Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Am I making you uncomfortable? You seem nervous.” 

Great. Now he thinks you’re weird. “O-oh you’re not! You’re fine. You are more than fine. I mean… I’m just feelin’ kinda warm… But not like a sick warm. Just a little hot. That’s all.” She fans herself with her palm, honestly kind of needing it.

“If you wish we could walk more in the shade of the trees.” He offers, already starting to shift his direction.

“Uh, sure… Yeah. That could help.” She says as she follows him. 

They walked for a couple of more seconds, minutes, hours, ugh can’t really tell anymore, with the shade doing nothing to help with her nerves or anything. She looks like a freak. He probably regrets this. He already noticed how weird you are being. You really thought you could do this. What were you thinking? Get out of there.

“I’m sorry.” She exhales before burying her head into her hands.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“It’s just… I feel like I am bein’ so awkward. I can’t talk. I’m blushin' like crazy. And you just wanted to go to the ice cream place. I’m not normally like this. I don’t know why I am like this. Maybe you should ask someone else to help you.” 

She turns around and is about to leave, but is stopped as something tugs at her arm.

“Wait!” Bastion says as he gently holds onto her.

Penelope tries her best to hold back tears as she tosses her head back towards the concerned gentleman behind her. 

“Please, do not leave.” He walked towards her. “I wanted to take this walk with you, specifically.” He locks eyes with her. “I was hoping to get to know you better.” He caresses her arm. “I know it may not seem so...” He cups her face with the other hand. “But I am actually quite nervous too.” He leans closer. “I mean how can I not be when I am so close to a woman with the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen.”

She felt like something just pierced her heart. She couldn’t breathe. Is this happening? Is this normal? Is this how it happens?

“Penelope?”

“Yes, Bastion?” 

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Uh-huh."

“Are you seeing someone?"

The casual walk evolves more into a tour as they "find" themselves taking the long way around. Within that time, enough butterflies have escaped from Penelope’s stomach, allowing her to comfortably point out all the important buildings, unique structures, and honestly ridiculous traditions of G-Tech. A sunset flowers on the horizon as the azure skies dim to a dark navy blue. The campus street lights flicker on one by one as the last bits of sun leave the sky. But thankfully the two manage to make it to the parlor just at that moment.

To be honest the “ice cream parlor” was less a parlor and more a hole in the wall between the math and technology building, actually being part of the math building. This place is so well hidden that most students usually find this place by accident or have to have a friend take them there. But the place is quite popular with the students who manage to locate it. The two make their orders with Penelope ordering her favorite, the peppermint chocolate chunk, and Bastion ordering one as well. He graciously pays for both of the ice creams and the two manage to find an open seat at one of the various white plastic tables and chairs strewn about.

“So you are sure this is the best flavor?” Bastion asks as he cautiously scoops into the frozen cream.

“It is! Just try it!”

He gingerly places the spoonful into his mouth and really gives it a good taste for a second before finally swallowing it.

“So???”

“... Penelope, I cannot lie to you… That was the best ice cream that I have ever tasted.”

“SEE!!! I told you!!!” She shouts, nearly jumping out of the table and causing him to laugh a bit.

Penelope couldn’t help but beam a giant smile as she dug into her ice cream. She is still baffled by how well things are going. Here they are laughing and having fun on a date. She is actually on a date!!! Honestly, this is all still so nerve-wracking, but it felt less like a storm brewing and more like a couple of bustling winds that she could handle. This is great! She is not even worried about her failing project. Oh yeah. Her failing project.

“Is there a problem, dear?” Bastion asks as he notices her smile dim.

“Oh uh… Nothin’. Just work stuff.” She says, not sure if complaining is the best thing to do on a date.

He gives a concerned look. “Is there anything I can help with?”

“Unless you become an expert in Biomedical Science in less than a week, not really. But it’s fine. I just gotta figure a couple things out.”

"Well whatever it is, I am more than confident that you can handle it."

She smiles a bit. "Thank you. I really appreciate that... Sorry," Penelope nervously chuckles. "Now I feel like I made things awkward. Kinda brought the mood down."

"You're quite alright, dear. I think I might have something that could help. Do you want to try it?”

“Um, sure.”

“What is your favorite color?”

“My favorite color?”

He nods.

“Oh um, Purple.” She answered pointing at her glasses.

“Purple. Brilliant choice. What about your favorite flower?”

“Um… Hyacinthus orienta- I mean Hyacinths.”

“Hyacinths. Great selection. What about your favorite animal?”

“Are you just asking questions?”

 He winks. “Your favorite animal, dear?”

“Hmmm... Oh! The Platypus!”

He raised his eyebrow. “Really?”

“What? They’re funny-lookin' and can produce venom in their hind legs. I just like the guys.”

“... Interesting. Your favorite show?”

“Oh! There’s this anime I just watched about this girl who goes to this school for future sorcerers but then she meets this mysterious boy with an unknown past. Eventually, they fall in love, but it turns out that the boy has been hiding a horrible secret from her. It is really good! Though there is this weird time skip part way through and the ending wasn’t as happy as I would’ve liked, but… ” She catches Bastion’s puzzled look. “Oh sorry… I kinda went on a tangent.” 

Bastion chuckles. “You are more than fine. That is the entire point of this exercise.”

“Ah! Now I see what you are doing.” She said with a cheeky grin.

“Is it helping?”

“Yeah. It actually is.” 

“Then let us continue. What is your favorite book?”

“Hm… This might be a little weird. Well weirder than my other answers… But I actually kind of like to read scientific articles sometimes. I actually got into it when I was younger and it led me to get into biomedical science. I checked it out from the library once and didn’t understand it at all at first. But after rereading it over and over again, I finally was able to understand it.”

“What was the article about?”

“Oh, it was about the downregulation of endothelial cells, honestly nothing too complicated.” Bastion nodded as if he somehow understood that. “But what was really interesting was the experimental process. They used a unique cytometric technique to… Wait... That’s it!”

“Pardon?”

“That’s it! I know what went wrong!!! My results weren’t bad. My process was bad! I think I know how I can save my project!” She bounced out of her chair in joy. 

“That is wonderful,” Bastion adds as he rises from his chair.

“I’m saved! My project is saved! Oh, I gotta put this in my PDA before I forget. I gotta find that article again. I gotta…” She rushes into Bastion, latching onto him for a giant hug, jumping up and down.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is just what I needed. I would’ve never figured this out without…” Wait, did she just… She starts to loosen her grip. “Oh sorry I didn’t mean to-” But before she could finish, she was quickly pulled back in. 

She looks up, eyes sparkling like stars as Bastion gazes down at her with pure adoration. His eyes were as bright and alluring as the full moon in the sky. He felt so comfortable. So safe. Like a blanket. Their heartbeats were beating as one. She felt as if she knew him forever. Is this what being in love is like? Is this what she has been missing out on? It was like everything just melted away. It was like nothing else existed. She didn't know how long they stood there. But didn't care. This is eternal bliss and she never wants to leave. She wants to stay here for eternity. This is everything. He is everything. She has everything. What more could she want?

“Penelope?”

“Yes, Bastion?” 

He leans in.

She follows.

A sleek pitch black sports car rolls up to an apartment building, barely making a sound as it stops. The driver door opens as Bastion steps out and circles around the vehicle to the passenger door. He opens the door and holds out a hand that is swiftly grasped by a lovestruck Penelope. He helps her out of the car only to then pull her hand a bit closer for a gentle kiss. 

“Thank you for a lovely evening, darling.” He purrs. “It was such a pleasure spending time with you.”

“Same. I really enjoyed being with you.” Penelope responds dreamily.

Bastion softly smiles as he leans back into the car and pulls out a simple but stylish business card with his name, contact information, and a couple of colorful ink splotches in the center of the card.

“The number on here is for my cell phone. I would love to meet with you again.”

“Yes. Yes! I mean, I’ll call tomorrow! I’ll call during lunch!”

“Sounds like a plan." He gently pulls her in for a peck on the cheek, before whispering in her ear. "While it is unfortunate that we must part, I shall count the seconds until we see each other again... Good night my darling."

He then releases her in a spin towards the apartment. She clumsily tries to regain her balance as she goofily waves goodbye and waddles towards the building. Only to spot both Gita and Peter with eyes as wide as saucers on the balcony of their second-floor apartment. Oh boy. She races up the stairs and gets ready to open the door, only for it to open by itself followed by hands dragging her in.

“WHO WAS THAT???” Gita and Peter shout simultaneously. 

“Oh…” Penelope coyly chirps. “Just a guy I met.”

“But like WHO is that? What’s his name?” Gita pesters.

“Is that his car?!? Where'd you find him!?!” Peter shouts as he stares out the window, watching the luxury sports car leave. 

“His name is Bastion. Bastion Blotswell. I met him at the library and we took a walk together and then it turned into a date and… I KISSED HIM! I had my first kiss!”

“Wait, you kissed him?” Gita questions.

“On the lips?” adds Peter.

“Yep, and he gave me his number!” Penelope squeals, holding the business card which Peter dashes over to snatch out of her hands. “You wouldn’t believe how amazin' he was. He even helped me figure out how to save my project. He's just so kind and sweet and perfect and-”

“... Hot.” chips in Peter.

“It was like a dream. I didn’t want to wake up! But this ain’t a dream! This is really happenin’!!!” She squeals again.

Peter whistles. “Does he have a twin brother?”

“I thought you were datin’ Wallace?” Penelope asks.

“Nah, we just broke up.”

“Oh… Well, I guess I can ask him… When I call him TOMORROW!!!” She screams while bouncing around the living room before grabbing Gita's hands and jumping up and down. “Gita! I have a BOYFRIEND! I finally have a boyfriend!”

Gita just stood there with a pensive look on her face.

Penelope smile drops. “What’s wrong?”

“Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just feel like this is going too fast. This came out of nowhere. You already met a guy, went on a date, and kissed him in less than a day.”

“I know and ain’t it great. I didn’t even know that this is what I’ve been missin’. Life all makes sense now.”

“But do you even know this guy?”

“Yes, he is the sweetest guy I ever met. You’ll love him.”

“But doesn’t something feel off? This normally doesn’t happen to you. Guys like that normally don’t just date you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“That is not what I… Ugh. I just-”

Penelope walks up to Gita and grabs her hands.

“Trying to protect me, I know... But Gita, I need you to trust me… You said I was like a sister and part of being a family ain’t just worryin' about each other, but also having faith in each other. Lettin' 'em make their own decisions.”

“...”

“I really like this guy and I think you'll like him too. When you leave next week, I don’t want you to be worryin’ about me all the time. I want you to start the next chapter of your life and focus on your own goals. But to do that you need to trust me. Can you trust me?”

Gita pauses for a couple of minutes. “Do you really think you can trust him?”

“I do.”

“... Then I guess I will have to trust you.”

Penelope brings her into a hug. “Thank you.”

Gita hugs her back, before eventually pulling out… Only to then puzzledly look around.

“Where's your stuff?” She asked.

“Stuff?”

“Like your bag? Your purple tote?  Doesn’t that have your wallet, PDA, phone, and all your other stuff in it?”

Penelope looked around her person, realizing that her bag was indeed not with her. 

“Oh... I must've left it at the library.”

“The one that is closing in 30 minutes.”

“Yeah, the one closin’ in 30 minutes… IT’S CLOSIN’ IN 30 MINUTES!!!” 

Penelope bolts out of the door as Gita rolls her eyes and shakes her head before grabbing her car keys right next to Penelope’s.

“Hold on girl. I’ll drive you,” she says as she heads out the door.

“Wait!” shouts Peter coming after them. “I’m coming too!”

“Why are you coming?” asks Gita.

“To get a hot new boyfriend.”

Chapter Text

Bastion Blotswell watched as the cute little Pomeranian left his side to rush to her tiny apartment. He gazed upwards amused at the shocked face of what appeared to be her friends on the balcony. They soon left, most likely to question the pup about the curious stranger who just kissed her in the parking lot. Said stranger waltzed over to the driver's side of his jet-black Corvidette and gracefully entered the car, gently closing the door beside him. As “Bastion'' sat in his car, he could not help himself as his lips twisted into a wicked smile and a cruel laugh rumbled from deep inside him.

That was just way too easy…

The canine bachelor knew that he had a charm that could bewitch any living being. But he did not expect to acquire the target so… simply. Mere child’s play. Just a couple of niceties and she was putty his hands. And my, what a useful piece of putty she will be. It is a nice change of pace compared to what he had to deal with before. He appreciates a challenge every once in a while, but when things fall perfectly into place… He could just feel his heart sing.

The sleek sports car makes a three-point turn and speeds away from the primitive apartment buildings into the main roads of the city. As he elegantly cruised down the essentially empty midnight streets, he could not help but smirk at the fortune that life once again granted him. You see, thanks to a Mr… “Mysterious Benefactor”, he was made aware of some very intriguing research happening at this Georgian university. 

Apparently, the school has a unique partnership with the United States government that allows the research professors and their faculty to work on some highly confidential work under the protection and for the benefit of the government. And while the partnership itself is not a secret, the details of the research are. However, he was recently made privy to a biomedical project that had his name written all over it. Blotonium. How intriguing. According to what he heard, it is a chemical component that can turn any kind of matter malleable. A chemical component that could be remotely controlled to change the shape of any material with ease.

Oh, the possibilities are endless. And he is just the one to find them all. He was already an expert when it came to breaking into inaccessible areas. But with this chemical at his behest, even the most impenetrable vaults will be nothing to him. What makes this even more delicious, is the true secrecy of the research. If used correctly, no one will ever be able to figure out how these break-ins were possible. He will be invincible. He already leaves any law enforcement or other meddling pest in the dust when it comes to his brilliant escapades. But with this Blotonium he will become more of a legend than he already was. He will be immortal.

Another villainous cackle escapes through his lips. Though he couldn’t take all of the credit, could he? After all, access to this tool would not be ever so closely within reach without another tool's help. What did she call herself? Penelope. Oh my innocent darling, Penelope. Before he started this venture he made sure to memorize everyone who was even slightly connected to the G-Tech's Biomedical Research Facility. While he had multiple possible targets in mind, he focused specifically on the ones who seemed… vulnerable. And she was the perfect candidate. 

Young. Single. Eager to Please. Naive. Just so Naive. When he spotted her frantically wandering the campus library, it was like Lady Luck herself was delivering her on a silver platter. And all he had to do to accept it was the classic “accidentally bumping into someone” trick. He could not help but reminisce in her doughy-eyed stare as she fell for him at first sight. He didn’t even have to say or do anything, his devilish good looks did all the hard work. It should have been concerning, when she first rejected his offer for a walk. But he was not worried, as with all the people he has courted before… She just could not resist him. After that, it was just a simple matter of flirting and a once-in-a-lifetime kiss to truly have her under his spell. He grins to himself as he makes another turn, re-entering the campus he just left. 

However, as much as he would like to say that the experience was completely pleasant, some parts were a bit more… unsavory. She was... more awkward than he expected. That ice cream she recommended was much too saccharine for his tastes. And when she started to go on and on about her favorite show, he had to use every sense of control he had to prevent his eyes from completely rolling to the back of his head. But if he is lucky this shouldn’t last more than a couple of weeks and then he will never see her again…

At least she is cute.

He appreciates that he will not have to gag every time he looks at her.

The man pulls into a somewhat hidden parking spot and exits the vehicle. He moves his hand past a black briefcase and retrieves a medium-sized duffle bag from the back seat. After closing the car door and locking it, he veers right into the shadows, keeping an eye out for any other person on the premises. He quickly scales a nearby building, easily making it to the top, and sets his bag down in an area he has become quite familiar with. This location is the perfect stakeout spot as very few people come up here and he can easily orient himself to not be seen. It also allows him to effectively spy on the Biomedical Research Facility nearby, seeing anyone entering and exiting the main door and the back door with ease. 

However, the ease stops there as he has been having a new problem. He has been watching this building for a couple of days now to get a beat on the patterns of those who work at the research facilities and to plan for a future heist. But the person he has been mostly keeping an eye out for, this Professor Macopé, seems to have the weirdest schedule he has ever seen. He barely can catch when this guy leaves or enters from either door. Does he just never leave the building? Is there another exit he is not aware of? Does he live there? Regardless, it is throwing a wrench in his plans as that professor is the key for him to get access to the research he wants.

Another unhelpful wrinkle is that entering this building will be no easy feat. The high-end surveillance is more complicated than he is used to and there are many checks to prevent unwanted guests from getting in. It does not help that the building seems to be in use throughout the day and night, really limiting his windows of opportunity to sneak in and be unseen. And if he wants his access to this chemical to be unknown, then he must remain unseen. This means that he will have to be very careful with this job and not rush it. He will have to take his time.

However, he does not falter at the slightest hint of difficulty. Instead, he craves the challenge. It is what makes his work much more entertaining and his successes even more sweet. He opens the bag and pulls out a small contraption. He then takes one swift survey of the surrounding area and places the contraption on the underside of a ledge of the building beneath him. After he adjusts the device to be aimed right where he needs it to be. He switches it on and starts to climb down from the building. 

Hopefully, this camera will have a better chance of tracking the professor's movement, so he doesn’t have to spend weeks sitting on this roof. He should still check on it tomorrow night to ensure that it is working properly and that no one has messed with it. But once it is all settled, he will have time to investigate in other ways. Until then it seems like he will have to keep playing this “Bastion Blotswell” character for a little while longer. Luckily he is perfect for the part.

A steaming cup of black coffee is raised to a pair of lips that gently blow before taking a drink. Hmmm… A much lower quality than he is used to, but it will do for now. He observes the other patrons in this small diner. There are two older women in floral Sunday gowns and matching hats gossiping about the other women in their church. They are about two booths away from him. At the bar, there is a pretty little blond waitress in a standard light blue waitress uniform taking the order of a shabby-looking man in a heavy dirty coat. They seem familiar with each other as she calls him "Joe" and they are having a casual conversation about what they have been up to. Outside of that though, the diner seemed pretty bare. Good. He much prefers this way.

But before he could return his eyes to his coffee, he catches the waitress staring at him as she takes the order. He smirked. This isn’t the only time he caught her stealing looks. She even seemed quite nervous taking his order. He shot her a wink, causing her to turn even more red and raise her hand to her mouth. The man in front of her noticeably coughs to regain her attention, which seems to work as she looks back at "Joe" after sneaking one last look. His smug grin grows in amusement as he raises the drink back to his mouth and flips open the paper in front of him. She will be quite useful later. 

So, what is his agenda for today? Honestly, he has no idea. Outside of just ensuring the camera is still there and working, there is not much he can do with the camera during the daytime due to the risk of wandering eyes. Perhaps he could see if he could finally catch that elusive professor. But how would he even go about doing that? He has been trying to catch him this entire time with no success. An annoyed sigh escaped his lips. He did not expect this mission to be so irksome. He was hoping things would start picking up after what happened in the previous... Ugh, he does not want to think about that right now. He just needs to focus and think of a new angle to tackle this conundrum.

The man flips to another page. Interesting. Seems like there is a fine dining restaurant that just opened not too far from here. And it was rated five stars by a critic he trusts. It has been a while since he has gone to a place like this. He has just been so busy lately. According to the paper, you must make a reservation at least one month in advance. It would not hurt to- Wait, what on earth is he thinking about? An eating establishment? Focus… Then again perhaps that is the issue entirely. He has been focusing so much on that building that his answer might lie elsewhere. He did meet his ‘target’ at the library. Perhaps if he widens the breadth of his investigation he may find the key to pulling off this heist and hopefully another certain someone elsewhere. Well, then it is settled. Once he is done here, he will return to the campus and explore the entire university as a whole. 

As he turns to another page, something quickly catches his eye. A nearby museum just unveiled a new exhibit where they will be displaying the extremely valuable and ostentatious Onyx Spotted Crown. Hmmm... That glass case it is in seems like such a royal "pane" to be in. Perhaps it would much prefer a more regal residence within his hands. A cracked smile appeared on his face. Oh, what fun. And the museum is only about a couple of hours away. Perfect. He must pencil this into his schedule.

He admits that since he has been more focused on these “larger” secretive missions, he started to miss these more simple jobs where he could make his appearance more known. These jobs are important as they help carve his name in the hearts of man and remind them of who they should truly fear. It has been far too long since his last show and if he wishes to stay relevant and maintain his status as a criminal legend, it would be wise to keep his name in the papers every once in a while. He sets down the paper and takes a final drink from his mug. He then raises a couple of fingers, getting the attention of the eagerly waiting waitress. Time to pay.

“May I have the check please, my dear,” he purred.

She giggled. “Just a second.” She leaves for a few moments before returning and handing him a small tin with a receipt. “So... Did you enjoy the coffee?” she asked in a cutesy voice.

“Oh, it was marvelous, darling. I have to admit this is quite a lovely locale.” He responded, specifically looking at her when he said "lovely".

She blushed a bit as she swooned. “Oh well, I would certainly love to see you here more often.”

“And I would love nothing more than to come here more often.” He smoothly grabbed her hands in his. “...Though I do have a bit of a dilemma.”

“Oh no… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing much. Though I just find myself constantly getting distracted when I am here.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you see, every time I look in your direction...” He enticingly pulls her in. “I get lost in the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen.”

This caused her to go full red and erupt into a fit of giggles, quickly getting the attention of the other patrons of the diner. He raised one of her hands to his lips and gave it a small kiss, before returning to the tab in front of him.

“So how much do I owe you for this fine coffee?”

“Oh well… This one’s on the house,” she replied with a huge smile. Just as planned.

“Are you sure, my dear?” he asked, coyly raising his eyebrows.

“I'm sure. Gentlemen, like you don’t need to pay. Though you could always give me your number.”

He graciously smiled. “A more than fair request.” He scribbled a random number on the tab and then rose from his seat, giving a final wink to the lady before leaving the diner. As he left a sinister smile returned to his face. It gets easier every time. 

…

“You know I also think your eyes are beautiful.”

“You still have to pay, Joe.” 

A dark Furrari 360 Modena elegantly parks into a nearby spot and the driver exits the vehicle, sauntering over to the campus library nearby. Though he planned to investigate the entire campus, it would be wise to update himself on current events so he knows which areas to bring more focus to and not become blindsided by any changes that could affect his plans. He enters the very musty and honestly quite stuffy building. If this wasn’t the best place to get information specifically about the school, he would avoid this place like the plague. There is way more dust in here than is legally allowed and a disgusting malodorous scent starting to fester in his big black nose. He couldn’t tell if it came from the aging furnishings or the students.

The hound pulls a couple of newspapers, for both the city and the university, from a nearby stand and settles down on a corner desk opening his hefty laptop up. Time to get to work. After spending over an hour scouring the papers and surfing the web. Unfortunately, he was unable to find anything that seemed relevant to his interests. “8 Students Blame Food Poisoning on G-Tech Dining Commons Chili” “Construction Begins on New G-Tech Concert Hall Sponsored by the March Foundation” “Rumors of G-Tech Sewer Monster Grows after New Alleged Sighting”... Useless. Garbage. All of this is utter garbage… But he did say that he was going to try to expand his search. So he might as well check them out.

He glances at a brochure for the school which has a campus map on the inside. I suppose it would not hurt to check out the dining area first. It is getting close to lunchtime and there is a chance he could spot more of the research faculty there. He neatly collects his belongings and heads out the library door. As he walked through the campus, it was not hard to see that the campus felt gloomier this time around. The beautiful blue skies and warm sun are hidden by a blanket of gray clouds, giving everything a more depressing feel. Even the colorful flower beds felt desaturated. However, this didn’t concern the man as he beelined towards his destination, remaining focused on his mission.

He is soon met with a plethora of long lines to the different food stations of the dining commons. By smell alone, he can already tell the food is grotesque and not anything he will ever allow to touch his lips, but that is beside the point. He scans the lines for anyone of import, but after a couple of minutes of searching, he cannot find anyone of use… Or that is what he thought before a shining light finally made his way. Professor Macopé. He’s here. He finally caught that evasive twit. A vicious smirk crawled across the hound’s face. Now the real work can begin. 

He instantly starts to tail the bird professor who appears to be rushing towards something. The professor was speedy though as he weaved through and swerved around large crowds of people, somehow not dropping any of the not recommended chili in his hands. If the man currently trailing him was an average fool, this would be impossible to follow. But he is not average. He is a master of stealth and tracking. As if it were a walk in the park, he gracefully dances around the waves and waves of the populace, not losing sight of the professor at all. Piece of cake. As the hound nonchalantly follows close by, he notices the researcher pulling out a flip phone and starts to dial. Exquisite. A conversation. Just what the doctor ordered. If he could just get a little closer into eavesdropping range, nothing would be able to stop him no-

“BASTION!”

That voice. He instinctively turned around to see a petite plump Pomeranian waving her hands and running toward him. Drat. He did not expect to see her so soon. He quickly turned back around to where he last saw the professor only to realize that he somehow vanished too. Drat again. How is he doing that? Grand. Just Grand. Just what the doctor ordered.

“I DIDN’T EXPECT TO SEE YOU HERE!!!” The nuisance behind him shouts.

He sighed to himself. As the frustration bubbles inside him, he fights the urge to shout at her to get lost. He does not want to deal with her now. But she already saw him and he cannot risk damaging his “Bastion” character. A professional knows to stay in character even when things go awry. 

He spins around, wearing a giant smile as he opens his arms. “Penelope, my darling! There you are!”

Bastion runs towards her and pulls the pup into a warm embrace, kissing her on the nose.

“Bastion!” She giggles and then kisses him back on the cheek. “What’re you doing here? I was just ‘bout to call.” Oh, right the call.

“Why, I am here to see you, my love.”

“See me? Why?”

“Well after last night, I just could not get you out of my mind. I know that we planned a call, but I just had to see you again in person.”

“Wow! Well… I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you either. Last night was the best nights I’ve ever had!”

“Oh my dearest, the feeling is more than mutual.” Not really. 

She starts to sway as she teases through her hair. “Well... Do you wanna eat lunch together?”

No, he said in his mind. “I would love nothing more!” he said with his mouth.

“Yay! Follow me”

He would honestly much rather try to track the professor again, than waste time with her. But given how hard of a time he has had before, it is probably a lost cause. It might be more beneficial to stick with her. She is still a useful resource after all. Perhaps he could mine some helpful information out of her. She guides him to a line that thankfully was not as long as the others and she gets a rather unappetizing soggy sandwich that comes with a generic bag of chips and a fountain soda. Despite her claim that the sandwich is the best thing on campus and that he should “totally get one”, he hits her with the classic ‘had a big breakfast’ and gets bottled water instead. He will not make the mistake of trusting her tastes when it comes to food again. He pays for the meal, like the gentleman he is, and they sit down at an empty outdoor table. 

“So, any new development on your project?" Bastion asks as he twists the cap open.

“Oh! Yeah! I talked about it with my professor and he actually really liked the idea. Well in the sense that he didn’t grunt disapprovingly, but I did some further readin’ and I really think I solved my problem. I am actually gonna run some tests pretty soon.”

“That is wonderful to hear. Great job!”

“Thanks… Though I have to admit I am still a bit nervous ‘bout the whole thing,” she said worriedly. Oh no not this again. “I usually try to stay positive, but there’s still this creepin’ feeling that my tests will still fail even with the changes. I only really have one chance to prove myself. And I really don’t wanna mess this up.”

He quickly grasps her hands in his. “Well, if it means anything I completely believe in you, my love. I know deep within my heart that you are more than capable of getting the results you desire and even if you do not, I trust that you will find a clever solution. You are one of the smartest people I know and can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Really?” she said as her eyes glistened.

“Really,” he confidently responded. You better.

“Ya know what, you’re right. I'll figure this out. There's nothin' to worry 'bout. Especially now that I got a super supportive boyfriend like you!” She leaned over to give him a quick wet kiss on the nose. “Ya know, I kinda feel like you know a lot ‘bout me but I don’t know that much ‘bout you.”

“You will in due time, my pet,” he replied as he tried to stealthily wipe off the kiss.

“But why not now? You mentioned doing freelance graphic design yesterday. What clients have you worked with?” She asked as she eagerly bounced up and down from her chair

“Ah, you know… All sorts of clients. Honestly, my work is rather boring and you really would not know anyone I have worked with. They are either quite small or a secret.” he added with a wink.

“Oh… Well, can you show me some of your work?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have any work you can show me?”

She is really not going to let this go. “Oh well… I do not have any on me. But I could show you my portfolio one of these days… You know what, have you watched any new shows lately?”

“New shows… Oh! I just started watchin’ this one anime. It is so good! I found the VHS tapes when I was checkin’ out this one store from the mall and I am almost finished with them all."

"Great. Tell me everything."

"Oh Okay… So the show is about these two cousins tryin’ to form a new criminal gang and-”

Good. That should keep her occupied for a while. He had no interest in actually hearing about that drivel. He just needs a mental break and a plan to get back on course. He must find a way to redirect this conversation to what he wants. He needs more information on that blasted building and that birdbrained professor. If he does not this is just going to end up like… Ugh, last time.

Every time he tries to avoid it, it always comes back to the forefront of his mind... His previous job. Ever since he started his new career quite a few years ago, every single one of his plans has gone off without a hitch and has delivered riches and success beyond his wildest dreams. However, it seems like more recently his heists have started to… run into complications. To be clear, he did not fail. He never fails. But for now, it is on… indefinite hold. When he was made aware of that “Jimmy Korker” situation he saw a rare opportunity to get access to massive quantities of extremely valuable chemical goods and the significantly more important blueprints that would put them into good use. It seemed like a rather simple way to become a couple billions richer and have a powerful tool by his side. All he had to do was find a single shipment of cameras.

Unfortunately, when he found the shipment they were already on the shelves, and about 100 cameras were sold. He managed to track down most of them unbeknownst to anyone. But after weeks of the trail being cold, he could not risk wasting any more time and finally had to call it qui… Well, put it on hold. Luckily he sold a few anonymously for a small profit and kept the rest to experiment with. But what stings is that none of the cameras had the real prize, the blueprints that would have made this entire search worth it.

If only he could get access to this... his Benefactor. This "Benefactor" somehow seems to have access to information and technology that no single person should. They also are quite talented when it comes to hacking, science, and inventing. Instantly becoming a very powerful resource when he first started his new lifestyle. But the unfortunate trade-off is that they are rather difficult to get a hold of and do not always respond. He sent a request a while ago to see if they could assist him in developing a device that could track down the remaining cameras using the chemicals inside but has not heard back. And probably will not for a while. Perhaps, he should consider teaming up with another scientist or inventor. Someone a bit more accessible to assist in researching and developing new tools. I guess he should start going to those "evil-doer" shindigs he keeps on getting invited to. Bastion takes a quick sip of his water and looks towards the woman in front of him. Drat. She seems like she is finishing her squabble.

“-but even though they separated, you just know they are going to reunite again. I honestly can’t wait to watch the rest. I’m really excited to see where it goes.” She finished with a smile.

“Sounds fascinating.” He responds as if he was listening the entire time.

“You know... If you want, we could watch it together sometime.” Oh heavens no.

“Um… Of course. I suppose we can… Then again I do rather enjoy hearing the story from you. Perhaps you can just tell me what happens.”

“Oh, but you have to check it out! It is honestly so good! The animation is phenomenal.” What has he gotten himself into?

“Oh well… Perhaps… Oh my, is it one already?” He looked at his watch.

“Wait! One? Already? Ugh. I gotta go back to work.”

“And I have matters that I must return to as well.” 

Penelope soberly gathered the remains of her meal. “Well… I guess I'll see ya later…” 

“Not yet, dear. I was hoping to walk you to the Biomedical Research Facility if that would be alright. I am quite curious to see the building you are working at.” He stands up and holds out his arm for her.

She instantly perked up. “Oh… Yes! I would love that. Come on!” Penelope quickly throws away her trash and grabs his arm.

As Penelope guides Bastion to her destination, he leads her into telling stories about what it was like being a student at G-Tech and more importantly working as a research assistant at the facility. Honestly, not much of it was of any value to him. It was mostly just “funny” stories about things she heard or heard on campus or her sharing times she was clearly being taken advantage of but somehow being unaware, even by her professor whom she widely praises. He would pity her… If he saw her as more than just a pawn for his plans. However, all of this storytelling set up the perfect foundation to get what he really wanted.

“This Professor Macopé seems like quite the interesting individual.” Bastion muses. “I would love the chance to meet him.”

“Oh yeah, he knows so much about biomedical science and I look up to him so much. Unfortunately… he's kinda busy… like… all of the time. And he really… really doesn’t like to be bothered… like at all. Plus he can be kinda hard to track down sometimes. Honestly feels like he teleports sometimes. But I would be glad to introduce you… If I can ever get the chance to. You’ll love him though. He’s a great guy.” Figures. Though at least this confirms that his struggle to track down the professor is not some kind of fluke. 

“I see. Well, I suppose I could just settle on seeing your lab. You seem to have quite the adventures in there.”

“Oh… um… Well… You see at the place I work, you kinda need a security clearance to enter and we aren’t really allowed to bring in any guests.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. You see, it is technically a government building as some of the work we do there is sponsored by the US and thus is, ya know, hush-hush. Heck, I don’t even work on that kinda stuff, and I even had to have a very thorough background check and security clearance before I could work as a graduate assistant… But I don't think I'll be able to show you. I’m sorry.”

Bastion sulked. “I completely understand. I guess I just thought it would have been a perfect opportunity to learn more about you and see what makes you happy.”

Her ears drooped as she saw the sorrowful expression on her new boyfriend’s face, but it didn’t last long as she quickly perked up. “Oh! Wait! I think I know how you can get to see where I work!”

“Really!” Really?

“Yeah, I just remembered. They’re gonna try to have a ‘Family Day’ at the research facility where we can bring our families in and show 'em around. Obviously, you won’t be able to see the entire building. But I can show you my office and the lab I work in. My mom and best friend were gonna come, but my mom already had a trip planned and Gita will be busy at her new school. I guess I just kinda pushed it outta my mind… But now that you’re here, I can bring you! If you wanna.”

Brilliant. “Of course, my pet. That sounds great.”

“Yay! This is too exciting! Oh, I’ve been wanting to show someone where I work for the longest time! And now I can! Oh! I also remember Professor Macopé mentioned wanting to meet the different families and even give a speech, so you may get a chance to meet him there.”

Two Birds, One Stone. “Even better. When is this ‘Family Day’?”

“Oh, it is about a month from now.” A whole month? Ugh.

“Hmm… Not that far off. Well then, I guess it’s a date.” He said with a wink causing Penelope to giggle again.

“Talkin’ about dates… Do you wanna have one tonight!” She asked, brimming with excitement.

“Unfortunately, my jewel. I will be unavailable this evening."

“Oh.” She responded sadly.

“I actually have to be out of town for the next couple of days. Just some boring work stuff.”

“Oh…” She responded a bit sadder.

“But… I should be free this upcoming Saturday.”

“Oh!” She beamed. “Okay! Sounds great! Um, where do you wanna go on Saturday?”

“Hmm… Well, I have heard about this beautiful Bistro in the downtown area. I believe it was called 'The Green Roof' or something?”

“That place?!?” Her cheeks flushed. “Oh, honey. That place is nice. Real nice. But way… way too expensive. I dunno if that’s gonna work.”

“Why not…” He grabs one of her arms and seductively pulls her in, cradling her with the other “After all, I think you deserve only the best.” He leaned in, lips almost touching hers. "And I can give you the best.”

Her cheeks rapidly shifted from a grayish pale to a bright warm red, as she quickly turned her face away, unable to handle the sudden burst of feelings. She tried to respond but failed a couple of times before she could finally get the words out.

“U-um… Y-yeah! O-okay!” He gave a satisfied smirk as he let her go, making sure she could stand on her own before fully releasing her. 

Her face was still glowing red hot as she tried her best to fix her hair and skirt and calm herself down. As they both looked up they noticed the Biomedical Research Facility ahead of them.

“... W-well. I-I guess this is my stop.” Penelope said, still clearly a bit shaken.

“Yes, unfortunately, we will have to part.” Please. Part. “But this is not the end. For your beauty will grace my eyes again on Saturday.” He swiftly grabs her hand and kisses it.

“See you at eight, Bastie?”

“See you at eight, my treasure. Wear your finest dress.” 

She softly waves goodbye and sprints towards the building ahead of her, goofily blowing a kiss back before she enters the door… Finally. He thought she would never leave. Though perhaps that is a bit harsh. After all, his new target provided him with exactly what he needed. I mean a “Family Day". How delectable. It is a tad annoying that he will have to wait an entire month for this event, but that just gives him more than enough time to refine a flawless plan and gather the best tools for the job. He does wish to make the most of this moment and cannot risk any errors. But he rarely has to worry about errors.

He jogs over to the building tangent to the research building. The one that should still have his camera attached. And thanks to a glance upwards he can see that it is still in its location and is still recording from the very difficult to see red dot. Immaculate. A week from now he will have plenty of footage to review and finely tune his plan for true perfection. He could already taste his triumph. You know what, he is going to make a reservation for that one restaurant. He will set it for the same day of the event and it shall be a fine reward for achieving one of the greatest accomplishments of his career. Perhaps he may bring his little “girlfriend”. Despite the rumors, he has a softer heart than most people give him credit for. It would be a nice thank you... and parting gift as she will no longer be of use to him.

But he has plenty of time to think about all that later. Now he can focus on something fun. Something relaxing. Something rewarding. Something like getting himself an Onyx Spotted Crown and maybe a couple of other treasures along the way. He strolls over to his lavish vehicle and swiftly enters. He reaches behind his seat, pulling out a sturdy black briefcase with a complex combination lock. He easily enters the proper code and opens it, revealing a deep crimson velvet interior housing a perfectly folded pitch-black cloak, a pair of custom-crafted dark boots, and a spine-chilling shadowy mask all anxiously waiting to make their next appearance. He hopes the world is ready for another breath-taking performance.

Because the Phantom Blot is more than ready to give one.

Chapter Text

“Ain’t this just the most excitin’ thing, Bastie?”

“Mmmhm…”

“I just can’t believe that it’s Family Day already. This month just flew right by, didn’t it?”

“Mmhmm…”

“Ah! I feel like a firecracker on the 4th of July. This is gonna be so great!!!”

“Yes. Yes. Of course, my pet. Trust me I am elated beyond measure and brimming with anticipation.” ‘Bastie’ responds, forcing himself to sound elated beyond measure and brimming with anticipation. 

Bastion gives a quick glance at the chatty Pomeranian in the passenger seat beside him. Penelope was bouncing up and down in her chair damaging the beautiful leather seats of his luxury Corvidette. He internally rolls his eyes. Honestly, he doesn’t know if he can agree that this month flew by. While he did utilize the time effectively to craft the perfect tools and plan that will lead him to success, there were more… annoyances… in the past month than he would have desired. 

He was hoping to get more use of that blasted professor beforehand. But frustratingly elusive that birdbrain remains. Even in the rare moments, he spotted the fool, a variety of “distractions” ruined any opportunities to truly get close to him. One of those “distractions” being right next to him now, messing with the radio. That’s barely even touching on the many failed attempts to break into the building prior. Way too many close calls. This whole mess has really been stressing him out. He’s been burning through more packs than he would like to admit and he’s been trying to quit.

However if there is one light at the end of the tunnel, it is that he should be nearing the end of this godforsaken mission. Everything he needs should be behind those doors. If he can just get in and get out with no one the wiser, that should be it and he will finally kiss this pathetic city as well as his little girlfriend good- Bastion was immediately knocked out of his thoughts as an earsplitting burst of top hits annihilates his eardrums. He frantically looks over to the source, spotting Penelope who was desperately trying to balance finding the volume knob, while also covering both her ears. Bastion instantly whipped his hand over to the radio and shut it off. He wanted so badly to glare at her.

“Sorry…” Penelope whimpers, “I just thought it would be fun to play some music. Ya know, set the mood.” 

He takes a deep breath and grits through his teeth. Don’t lose your temper, Blot. “I understand. Just please ask first.” 

“Okay…” Penelope responds apologetically. 

The rest of the car ride was thankfully very quiet, allowing the Bastion to replay his plan within his head. Eventually, he pulls into a parking lot with a sign in front reading “G-Tech Biomedical Research Facility”. While he has visited the campus multiple times during the past month, this time feels a little bit different. A little less… professional. This is likely due to the waves of people, spanning from all ages in casual wear, making their way to the building. He honestly felt a bit over-dressed in his white dress shirt and black slacks.  Bastion elegantly parked the car into a free spot and opened his car door gracefully stepping out. Despite being in the morning, it was already very warm outside. He almost wants to roll back his sleeves, but there’s no point as he’ll be inside an air-conditioned building soon. 

Penelope is about to open her door but is met with a “Hold on.” as Bastion jogs over to the other side of the car and opens the passenger door. He reaches out his hand to the lady, who giddily takes it with a giant smile.

“Thanks Bastie!” Penelope says wistfully as she grasps his hand. “Such a gentleman.” Always.

"You're welcome." He starts to pull her out before Penelope shouts, “Wait!” and twists her body around back into the car.  She pulls out a purplish tote covered with a beautiful threaded floral design. “

Woah. This feels somewhat heavier than usual,” she remarks.

“Allow me to carry it for you.” Bastion offers while gently grasping the strap.

“Uh, Sure.” She lets Bastion take the bag, who swiftly swings it over his shoulder with no problem.

The two then make their way to the large and very familiar building. A sinister smirk appears on Bastion’s face for only a second before quickly disappearing. Just a little bit more . They quickly join a line that incrementally gets closer to the building every second. As they get nearer and nearer, the two eventually see the front door manned by three uniformed guards. One horse guard waves around a handheld scanner around each guest as the other, also a horse, motions for said guest to walk through the metal detector. 

The third guard, a very saggy dog, stands at a metal desk off to the side, waving over anyone with a bag towards him with a wooden stick. Once the couple gets close enough to the front of the line, they waltz over to the security guard at the table and Bastion starts to hand over the tote. Time to get to work. Within seconds of handing the bag to the guard, he rapidly investigated the man, hoping to find anything that he could use. And luckily for him, the prize was right on the guard’s wrist.

“Are you a Falcon’s fan?” Bastion ponders.

The man looked up at him, surprised. “Uh… Yeah, how’d ya know?”

“I saw the tattoo on your wrist.” Idiot. “I mean any true Falcon's fan would recognize the classic mascot and purple and white colors, wouldn’t you think?” 

“Ah dang, are you a fan too?”

“Full Force Falcons!” Bastion cheered, making a soaring motion with his hands.

“Yeah! Full Force Falcons!” The guard cheered back, copying the motion. “Awesome, Dude. Hey, what'd you think about the game last night?”

Drat. That’s the extent of his knowledge. For any other criminal, this would pose a serious problem. But he’s not any other criminal. And he could read the answer right off this simpleton’s face.

“Rather disappointing. They did decently in the first half, but really dropped the ball in the second half. Literally.”

“I know right? I just don’t know what happened.”

“HEY!” shouts the guard with the scanner. “Hurry it up. We got a line.”

“Alright. Alright. Hold your horses.” The guard at the table says as he rolls his eyes. He hands Bastion back the completely unchecked bag with one hand and holds out the other.

Bastion grabs the sweaty hand, gross, and gives it a hearty shake. “It was very nice to meet you, sir. I hope to see you around.” 

“You too man." The guard responds. "You enjoy the event.”

“We will.” Penelope pipes in.

As they veer over to the other set of guards, Penelope whispers to Bastion. “I didn’t know you were a Falcon’s fan?”

“There is a lot about me that you don’t know,” Bastion responds. And will never find out.

The two make their way to the guard with the handheld scanner before quickly heading through the stationary metal detector. The conniving canine had to stop himself from devilish grinning the entire time. He can’t believe how well everything is going. He’s literally feet away from the doors that will unlock his destiny. Nothing can stop him now. However that grin was quickly wiped off his face as blaring sirens went off behind him. What? Impossible. This should NOT be happening. Everything should have been protected. Did he miss something? Did she mess with something?

“Excuse me, I’m gonna need you to come back, sir.”

Bastion slowly rotates his body as his mind races on what to do. He finally makes a full 180 and opens his mouth, only to see a kid he didn’t notice before racing up to the guard.

The guard raised the handheld detector at the kid, which went off when near the kid's mouth.

“Ha. It’s just this kid’s braces. What a hoot.” the guard chuckles.

The rest of the crowd laughs as Bastion loosens his clenched grip and breathes heavily through his nose. That was close. Too close.

“Are you okay?” 

Bastion slightly jumps, startled by the voice at first, but it is just his ‘girlfriend’ with a concerned look. “Yes, dear. I am fine.” He replies.

“Did ya think you got in trouble or somethin’?” Penelope teases.

“Let’s just move on. Shall we?” Bastion spits out as he presses into the lobby

“Um… Okay.” Penelope replied, slightly put off by the terse tone.

The two silently stroll into the main lobby which was filled with more people than this building was ever designed for. They quickly join a small line leading up to the front desk, soon coming face to face with a very familiar rabbit. Penelope gave a very friendly wave.

“I’m gonna need your name, please,” Peter says plainly, completely ignoring the wave as he stares into the computer.

“Peter,” Penelope giggled. “It’s me.”

“Name, please.”

“Come on. You know my name.”

“Name , please,” he repeated.

She rolls her eyes. “Penelope Pomeranian.”

“Thank you, ma'am… And how do you spell that?”

“Peter!”

The rabbit smiles. “Ah. Here you are. And according to this, you’re bringin’ one adult guest with you. Excuse me, sir. Can I have your name, ID, and phone number in case ya get bored of her.” Peter adds with a wink.

“Peter!” the Pomeranian barks, comically placing her hands on her hips.

“I can give you two of those things,” Bastion says as he whips out a beautifully crafted fake ID. “Bastion Blotswell.”

The rabbit gleefully takes the card and starts typing some things in.

“So Peter, are you gonna join in the fun after this?” Penelope asked.

“Nah.” Peter responds, still typing.

“Oh really? I thought you would’ve wanted to bring someone.”

“And what, show them my desk.” He motions in front of him. “I’m just here for check-in and then headin’ straight home.”

"Aww..." Penelope pouts.

Peter types in a couple more things, before handing back the ID to the canine bachelor. “Alright, you should be good to go... Though, I do have one final question for you Mr. Blotswell.”

“Yes?” Bastion replies, curious.

“Do you have a twin brother and does he like men?” 

Penelope stifles a chuckle.

“Unfortunately, I do not. But if I happen to come across my doppelganger, I’ll tell him to give you a call.” He winked.

Penelope bursts out laughing as Bastion slowly drags her away, allowing the next very confused group of people to step up to the counter. He leads her over to the doors that he has been fiendishly waiting this entire month to get through. Now the real party can begin.  

The second he opened the door he was met with an ocean of people of all types, shifting from room to room or staying in place, blocking part of the hallway. It was honestly a crowded mess. Has anyone taught these animals manners? Bastion tries his best to weave into the crowd with Penelope holding tightly into his hand. As he winds through, he sneaks a couple of glances into the open rooms. They were mostly filled with morons giving demonstrations or tours to other morons. But none of them are the moron he’s looking for.

“Woah. I’ve never seen so many people here,” chirps Penelope as she was pulled through the crowd.

“Mmmhm…” Bastion mumbled, still trying to steer them to a clear space.

“Soooooo… Whatcha wanna do first?” Penelope wonders.

Bastion paused. Might as well use her while she’s here. “Do you know if Professor Macopé got back to you where we could find him? I was really hoping to speak with him.”

“Oh, yeah right! Um, yesterday he mentioned that he was gonna hang out in lab 204. Apparently, lots of people wanna meet him. Follow me.”

Penelope snatches his hand and takes charge, leading Bastion to the stairs. Perfect. The couple pass by a couple of packed rooms before stopping and entering a room reading “Laboratory 204” on the glass of the door. Bastion is immediately introduced to a fairly large lab with some patches of people having conversations sprinkled throughout, but more importantly, Professor Macopé, smack dab in the middle, still wearing his lab coat for some reason.

The professor is busy talking to what appears to be a research student and their family. And while there wasn’t a line for the man, there were clearly people around the room sneaking looks at the bird as if they were waiting for an opening. Drat. There’s not really an in, right now. Guess he’ll have to make one. 

“Seems like he’s a bit busy at the moment, do you wanna try and catch up with him later?” Penelope inquires. Bastion prepares to throw out an excuse to make them stay, but is immediately interrupted by Penelope as she yelps, “Oh! Wait! There’s Cia. She’s an associate professor. She's super neat. You’ll definitely wanna talk to her. Follow me!” 

Penelope propels towards the back of the room, completely unaware that her ‘boyfriend’ didn’t join her. He had no interest in meeting this “Cia”. At least not yet. He did however notice a young penguin chick who was playfully yanking on the skirt of her stressed out penguin mother, trying to have a conversation with someone.

“Stop that. Momma’s talkin’.” The mother said as she pulled her skirt away from a now disappointed young girl. 

It seems as if the girl is about to cry before Bastion catches her attention with a “psst”. She looks over at him and he slightly tilts his head to a set of towels hanging over some counters in the back of the room. Her frown flips into a grin as she tipped toed away from her mother to the slightly damp clothes just begging to be pulled. The cause has been set. Now time for the effect. Bastion slowly walked towards the professor, keeping an eye on the child behind him. She pulls down one towel. And another. And another. And… 

CRASH!!! 

All eyes snap over to the pile of shattered beakers surrounding the young chick with a towel in hand. Her mother bolts over to retrieve her mischievous rugrat as mutterings in the room shift to the sudden commotion. 

But what truly matters is that Macopé’s conversation is cut short as he starts to rush over towards the mess shouting, “Hey! Hey! Don’t play with that. Don’t play with that.” 

The scholarly Macaw raced across the room at record speed, unintentionally bumping into the Bastion on the way. He mumbled a quick apology, before continuing on his path.

“Oh, I’m just so sorry. I have absolutely no idea how this happened.” The mother said as she picked up her child who seemed pretty unbothered by the whole situation.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Those beakers should’ve been put away regardless. Can anyone get me a-” Before he had a chance to finish he was handed a broom “Ah... Thank you. Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” Bastion responds, as he kneels over and holds the dustpan in place. 

Within a small amount of time, the two manage to clear enough glass to make it seem as if the incident never occurred. However someone still added a pop-up safety cone over the area for additional protection.

“There we go. There we go. Thank you for the assistance.” The professor says to Bastion as he places the broom on a nearby hook.

“Just glad to be of assistance,” Bastion says as he attaches the dustpan to the hanging broom. “I believe you are Professor Macopé, correct?”

“You are indeed correct.”

“Wonderful, I was hoping to speak to you. My name is Bastion Blotswell.” He held out his hand toward the fowl.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Blotswell. Nice to meet you. It seems like many are hoping to speak to me.” Macopé responded with a sigh as he looked around the room.

“I mean it makes sense. You do have quite the stellar record when it comes to academic accomplishments.” 

The macaw nearly blushed. “Oh… Um. Thank you. Thank you. Are you also a scholar of biomedical science? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Not exactly. I suppose it would be more accurate to call me-”

“My Boyfriend!!!” Penelope interrupts. Bastion could feel his insides scream. The young woman skips up to the two men with a bleach-blond canine woman in bright red lipstick following from behind. “Hi Bastie. Hi Professor! I brought Cia.”

“Hello. Darling.” Bastion forced out, swallowing in any sign of annoyance.

“Uh yes, hello Miss Pomeranian and Dr. Copperfield.” Professor Macopé replies bewildered. 

“Uh hi there…” Cia sputters, staring wide-eyed at Bastion.

“It’s so great that y’all were able to meet. Bastie’s been talkin’ up a storm ‘bout wantin’ to see ya professor.” Penelope exclaims as she swings onto Bastion’s arm.

The professor gave a nod. “I’m aware,” he spat out, stealthily rolling his eyes.

“Indeed… We were still in the process of ‘meeting’ , sweetheart.” Bastion added in the nicest voice he could muster.

“Oh uh… Biscuits. Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Penelope bashfully muttered.

“Quite all right," Bastion responds. "Professor, I was hoping to speak more about your recent endeavors. I’m not a student, though I do find interest in the biomedical sciences and am quite intrigued by your work.”

“Hm…” Macopé hummed. “Oh yes, of course. Of course. I’ve been doing a lot of quite compelling work lately." Come on, spill something interesting. "I’m sure Miss Copperfield here would agree. For example, I’ve been recently studyin-”

“Um, excuse me.” Everyone turned their head to see a porcupine in a leather vest tap on the professor’s shoulder. “I don’t mean to intrude, but I need to speak to Professor Macopé, privately.”

“Huh. Huh. What are you on about?”

The porcupine whispers something into the Professor's ear. Something the criminal mastermind was very easily able to pick up by reading his lips. “Some men are here about the project." The Project? How Intriguing.

“Yes. Yes. Of course. Of course. I apologize, Mr. Blotswell, but we will have to continue our discussion another time.” Professor Macopé says as he turns back around.

“Certainly. I look forward to speaking with you then.” Bastion replies.

The professor gives a slight nod before following the other figure out the door. Bastion intentionally waits until the two are nearly out the door, before preparing to make his way over. Unfortunately, he forgot who he was in the company of.

“Wait… So are you really her boyfriend?” 

He stopped in his tracks. Confound it all. He turned his attention over to the bleach blond canine who was not so secretly looking him up and down and his ‘girlfriend’ who was excitedly bouncing next to her. He would much rather trail the professor, but it would be too suspicious to leave now. He’ll have to locate him later.

“Yes. I am.” Bastion stated.

“I told ya ‘bout him,” Penelope chimed.

“Yes, you did… I just wasn’t expecting… Wow… Well, I’m Cia Copperfield.” The blond dog said in a southern accent thicker than Penelope's, as she held out her hand.

“A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Copperfield," Bastion responded. "I'm sure as you were made aware, my name is Bastion Blotswell." He grabs her hand and lifts it as if he is going to kiss it, but gives it a gentle shake instead.

Cia gives an intrigued smile in response, darting her eyes between the two.

“So uh… How long have you two been together?” she asks, looking directly at Bastion.

“Um… I think ‘bout a month now, right Bastie?” Penelope responds.

“That is correct, dear.” He agrees with a nod.

“Oh, wow. How’d you meet?” Cia followed up nonchalantly as she twirled her hair.

“Oh funny story… Well actually romantic story. Ya see I was in the library…” As Penelope drones on about their ‘romantic’ encounter, Bastion observes the woman in front of him, who has not stopped staring at him.

He wasn’t buying her whole act at all. It’s pretty clear that she and maybe some of the others thought he was made up and is just trying to play nice. Perhaps a bit too nice to him, specifically. But that’s not important now. He can’t stop but think about how that Professor is most likely spilling all the secrets he craves in another room. But knowing that blasted professor the second he goes to find him, the professor will vanish from existence, never to be seen again. Well, at least he can make the most of this moment. She seems pretty knowledgeable.

“... and that is how we met.” Penelope gleefully finished.

“Fascinating,” Cia responded curtly.

“Indeed.” Blot responded, “You know Dr. Copperfield, I would be quite interested in learning more about what sort of research you’ve been working on.”

“Of course, hon. I study virology. As in viruses. Ya know, them annoyin’ things that just get in the way and make you sick.” She seemed to gesture at Penelope to him, though the Pomeranian didn’t notice. “I actually just recently found an antigen that could lead to the development of a new vaccine. I’m actually gonna be givin' a big presentation ‘bout it at the National Scientific Showcase comin' up.”

“That is quite impressive,” Bastion responds. But not what I am looking for.

“I know right!” cheered Penelope, “Cia is just so incredible. She has been workin’ night and day on her research and it’s really payin’ off.”

“Ah well, I’m just doin’ my job,” Cia said as she shrugs.

At that moment a ringtone that sounds like a popular country song goes off. Cia somehow pulls out a cell phone in her tight jeans and looks at the caller ID.

“Well as much as I would love to stay and talk, I have to take this. I hope to see you …” She looks specifically at Bastion. “...two around.” 

"Likewise." Bastion gave a small nod as Penelope cheerfully waved.

“Bye Cia!!!” she shouts.

As the blond dog waltzes off with the phone up to her ear, Penelope turns over to Bastion with the brightest smile on her face. “Wow! Ya already got to talk to both Cia and Professor Macopé and the day just barely started. You’re pretty darn lucky.”

“Indeed, I am.” Bastion replies indifferently.

“Ya know, those are my two biggest idols. I actually applied for this school and research program ‘cause I was so inspired by Macopé’s work. He’s just done so much in this field and has saved so many lives with his work. I had to be a part of it. And then when I finally got in, I met Cia and was just in awe of how much she has accomplished. She’s just so smart an’ cool an’ funny an'... Sometimes I think ‘bout how lucky I am, bein' around some of the most influential people in all Biomedical Science. I hope to be like them someday.”

“A worthy endeavor,” Bastion responds.

This isn’t the first time he’s heard her praise this facility and the faculty. It’s one of the few things that she goes on and on about outside of those ridiculous cartoon shows. He would think Penelope would pick up the clear signals the Professor and Cia were giving, especially Cia towards him. But based on her reaction. Not at all. He peered at the naive little pooch in her small magenta cardigan and swirly purple, white, and green dress perfectly complimenting the headband in her dark thick hair. He honestly couldn’t tell if he pitied her, or was jealous of her ignorance. Regardless, none of this was a concern of his...

And yet he feels something. Something is bothering him. It kind of feels like a stomach ache, but not. This is odd. This is unfamiliar. He doesn’t know where it’s coming from. He doesn't like it. He doesn't know what it is. But at least it helped remind him of the next step of his plan.

“So what should we do next, Bastie? Do you wanna check out my desk or I could show you the lab or…” Unfortunately dear, I have other plans.

Bastion grabbed his stomach and started groaning, twisting his face in pain.

“Oh no, what’s wrong?” Penelope worriedly exclaimed.

“Hng… I think something I ate… ugh… last night is not settling well in my stomach,” he moaned again.

“Oh no! You poor thing. Do ya need me to take ya to the hospital? Do I need to call 911?”

“No need. I think I just need the restroom,” he grunts. “... I may be there for a while.”

“Oh, um... Alright. Just follow me.” Penelope grabs Bastion’s hand and pulls him out of the room and down the hall to the nearest men’s bathroom.

“Thank you, my pet. I truly apologize for this.” Bastion gasped out, still clutching his stomach.

“It’s okay, hun. It happens.” Penelope anxiously responds.

“I hope you will still enjoy the festivities without me. I would hate to be the reason you miss out on everything.”

“Don’t worry, Bastie. I’ll wait for you here. I don’t mind.” 

Bastion could feel his eye twitch. “I really think you should enjoy the event…Ngh… Maybe scout out some things for us to do after I feel better.”

“I mean… If that’s whatcha really want?” Yes. It is.

“I will be fine, doll. Don’t worry, I will catch up with you as soon as I can. I promise.”

“Oh… Oh alright. Well, feel better.”  Penelope leans upwards to the hunched-over Bastion and gives him a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you. I’ll try,” he responds as he half-hazardly waves goodbye.

Penelope somberly shuffles down the hall as Bastion stumbles his way into the men’s room. The second the door closes, he instantly straightens his back and reveals a vicious smirk. Completely shedding his Bastion persona and regaining his identity as the Phantom Blot. Feeling better already.

The Phantom Blot enters the largest stall and locks the door. After thoroughly, thoroughly, wiping down the top of the toilet seat with disinfectant wipes and placing a dozen of the paper seat covers down, He finally sits. He removes the purple tote from around his shoulder, pulling out a very well-hidden solid gray case from the bottom. It was honestly difficult to tell what it was made of just from looking. However, what matters is that it protects whatever is inside from X-rays, metal detectors, and other similar devices, which is all he needs. 

He enters a code on the latch and lifts the case open, revealing all sorts of odd gadgets and objects. Each item is placed into perfectly fitting cutouts within a thick spongy foam lining the bottom of the case. The Blot pulls out a metallic box from the case, some kind of remote, a thick folded piece of paper, and a small digital camera. 

He opens the thick folded paper which is actually four large papers, each having a perfectly scaled map of one of the floors in the building. He marks a couple of areas on the second and first floor with X’s and then places one in his pocket, returning the other three to the case. The Blot then whips out a key card with Macopé’s face on it that was so graciously "gifted" to him when that feathered fool bumped into him. But don’t worry, this is only a temporary separation. He’ll return it once he’s done.

Blot places the key card into a slot on the side of the box and places the box back into the foam cutout. With a deep inhale, he shuts his eyes and raises his ears, intensely listening for anyone, anyone, who may be nearby

...

The coast is clear. Blot presses a red button on the metallic box which immediately results in a loud humming sound which is soon muffled as he shuts the case. He exhales. Perfect as always.

Now that’s handled, time to enjoy the other “gift” he received. The Phantom Blot brings out a notebook that was luckily in the same pocket as the ID. Part of him was hoping for the cell phone, but this was much more valuable. He eagerly opens up the notebook, as a pirate would to a treasure chest. He skimmed a couple of pages, which took longer than it should’ve due to the professor’s bad handwriting, and didn’t see too much that seemed relevant. But better be safe than sorry. He pulled out the camera that was specifically modified to be as silent as possible and took a picture of each page, leaving any nearby fool none the wiser.

And fools there were. At random intervals throughout the time he spent snapping photos, some idiot would enter the restroom. Thankfully, they didn’t pose much of an issue as they usually just did their thing and left. But between the guy who clearly needed a cough drop, the idiot who didn’t know what 'occupied' meant, and the growing number of people who are NOT washing their hands, he honestly was getting very sick of this horrendous location. It didn’t help that the professor’s handwriting seemed to get worse and worse on each page. It’s going to be quite fun translating this chicken scratch later. 

But just as his mood was starting to sour, he noticed there was a page that seemed thicker than the others. Curious, he carefully rubbed the page between his fingers, which revealed this not to be one but two pages, softly glued together. And the delicacy that these softly glued pages were hiding.

Passwords. Delicious.

Due to his immaculate photographic memory, he was able to memorize the entire list within minutes, storing it in a very special part of his brain. He still takes a picture for safety and continues through the final set of pages. After finishing going through the entire notebook, Blot patiently waits for a man to finish washing his hands. The man finally leaves, causing Blot to pull out the gray case again and tentatively open it up. He took a sigh of relief. The humming has stopped. The Phantom Blot returns the camera and picks up the now warm mechanical device, opening a small drawer at the bottom. This drawer not only had the key card but an exact replica on top. Brilliant. He removes both cards, placing the warm duplicate into his bag and keeping the original on hand. Now for phase two.

The Phantom Blot makes his way out of the restroom, surveying the hallways comprehensively before fully exiting. There are a couple of people around, but they don't take much notice of him. He briskly returns to Laboratory 204 and peers through the glass window on the door. No Penelope, thankfully. But also no Macopé. Blast. He would love to locate that moronic macaw to return the “missing” items and maybe even catch tidbits of that intriguing conversation he missed. But given his luck before, it doesn’t seem very wise. He doesn’t have much time to waste. He’ll have to continue with his plan for now. The canine continues down the hallway, before turning into the stairway.

“BASTIE!!!” He could feel his eyes nearly pop out of his head. Not. AGAIN. A pair of warm arms wrapped around Bastion’s waist from behind. How on earth is she doing this?

“Oh… It’s you,” he forced out, honestly not doing as much as he should to mask his disappointment. 

“Are you feelin’ better?” Penelope chirps as she hugs him tighter.

“Yes sweetheart,” he grunted. “Still recovering, though.”

“Oh… Sorry.” She loosened her grip. “Well, I'm just glad that you’re doin’ okay and that we were able to find each other so soon. It would've been hard with all these people ‘round.” Should have been harder.

"Yes. It is quite fortunate."

“Guess what I found.” Penelope beamed. 

“What?” Bastion replied. Someone else to bother.  

“The FOOD!!!” the Pomeranian cheered. “And they really went all out. Come on, let's go get some.” She snatches his hand and bolts as Bastion swallows choice words down his throat.

Penelope drags Bastion down to the first floor and leads him to a giant conference room that is fairly packed with people already carrying small plates. On both sides of the room are a row of tables holding a variety of small appetizers and finger foods on fancy-looking dishes. Honestly, it seems a bit ornate for an event like this. They definitely paid more than they should have and will likely veer toward cheaper, lower-quality catering in the future. 

Penelope rushes up to one of the tables and picks up a small plate, excitedly checking out all the different options. “Oh, what should we try first? Maybe the little wiener thingy. That vegetable thingy looks fun. Oh, what is that gray stuff? Bastie! I can’t pick.” 

“Whatever your heart desires,” Bastion responds sharply as he snatches up a plate with a hint of irritation. He needs to get rid of her. He can’t waste time doing all this frivolous nonsense. He has a job to do.

He glances behind him and spots a very overwhelmed fox. Bastion instantly recognized him as a professor whose works are tangential to Macopé's. Though you wouldn’t easily tell by his awful Hawaiian shirt, the baby carrier containing a crying child, his shorts that were being torn apart by three bickering brats, and another fox who appears to be his wife non-stop complaining about the food not being kid-friendly or something. The man looked exhausted. He looked disgraceful. This whole sad scene is a perfect example of why he, the Phantom Blot, will never be a family man.

However, just as much as Bastion was looking at the fox, the fox was looking at him. It was hard to tell if he was begging for help or perhaps something more. Interesting . Bastion gives him a sympathetic look, followed quickly by a wink, resulting in the fox's cheeks going bright pink. Bastion smiles internally before looking the other way, catching a glimpse of Penelope who somehow managed to stuff her six-inch diameter plate with over fifty items. He would be impressed if he didn't then immediately see a solution to his problems. 

“ Oh, my precious Penelope~" Bastion crooned.

“ Yes, Bastie~ ” she sang back.

“I was wondering if you could be a sweetheart and fetch me some punch. I’m quite parched.”

“Anything for you, cutie.” She boops his nose and cheerfully waddles off, impressively carrying her packed plate over to the table on the far, far end of the room. Wonderful.

He waits until she is far away enough before discarding his plate and turning 180 degrees towards the door.

As he passes by the exasperated father, he slips something into his pocket and leans in, whispering, “Do you mind letting her know that I had to step out for a second?”

“Uh… Sure.” The man mutters out, clearly not expecting him to be this close so quickly.

“Thank you, dear.” Bastion winks again.

This time the fox’s face flushed as bright red as his fur, as Bastion speed walks his way out of the door and back to his mission as the Phantom Blot. He quickly returns to the staircase and makes his way up three flights of stairs, now on the fourth floor. Before he fully enters the fourth floor he slithers over to the door and peers through the window. As he expected, the floor was essentially empty as most of the activity was downstairs.

He presses his face closer to the glass and darts his eyes around the room. Ah. There it is. The Phantom Blot ever so slightly creeps the door open, leaving only the smallest crack available. He then pulls the remote device out of the bag, aims it, and then presses a button. Within seconds of the press, the red light on a nearby camera shifts from blinking while rotating to a consistent red. Perfect. That should freeze the camera footage until he turns it back on. Honestly, he impressed himself by cobbling this together within the past month just by clocking the security camera model from the window. But then again when has he ever been anything less than impressive?

The hound gently pushes the rest of the door open and sneaks into the hallway, quietly closing the door behind him. He then pulls out the map of the fourth floor and places a small 'x' on the spot matching the location of the camera. Pleased with himself, he struts down the hallways, knowing exactly where to go As he strolls down the halls the Phantom Blot keeps his eyes peeled for any upcoming cameras or any other prying pest. Luckily the halls do seem to be empty and the cameras were easy to deal with by just slipping into a blind spot and using the remote once again to freeze the camera, followed up by making a small marking for each one.

After wandering the halls for about a minute, the Blot freezes one final camera, before sauntering over to a large mahogany door with a small black metal plate. On the plate, in gold lettering, it reads “Professor Macopé”. A devious smirk grows on his face. Here at last. Everything he needs should be right beyond this door. Everything that will make all of this worth it. The Phantom Blot takes one last glance at his surroundings. He’s alone. He flips open his ear over the door and listens closely. Nobody’s home. Marvelous.

Within seconds the Phantom Blot whips out the now-cooled keycard copy and swipes it through a reader on the door. There is a small beep followed closely by some clicks, and then the light on the reader flashes green. Lovely . It works. He slowly opens the door and slips in, the devilish grin on his face growing wider and wider. 

At first glance, the office wasn’t anything to write home about. The furniture seems pretty standard compared to what he’s seen in the rest of the building and there weren't really any mementos on the walls or shelves. In fact, the only thing on the walls was his degrees. But at least he appears to be cleaner than most of his counterparts. It wasn’t overly neat, but it was decently clean. The Blot shuddered thinking about all the pigsties he had to infiltrate in the past.

The Phantom Blot waltzes over the computer and lays out the purple tote. He pulls out the ID and notepad places them on the desk and then takes out the gray case. He returns to the computer, presses the power button on the yellowing plastic tower, and waits for the computer to completely turn on. Some beeping, chattering, whirring, and a small jingle later, he’s brought to a screen requesting a password. With ease, he types in the perfectly memorized password which directs him immediately to the main desktop. 

The Phantom Blot drags over the gray case. This time taking out a thin square paper envelope, from which he pulls out a standard-looking blank CD, and pulls out a small silver stick. The Blot presses the eject button on the tower which opens the CD-ROM drive, allowing him to set the disk in, and plugs the stick into the back of the computer. Once he pushes the drive back in, the computer makes a small humming sound along with a couple of beeps. After some time a green and black title screen appears reading “X-Hacking”. It disappears quickly as a greenish plain-looking menu pops up, requesting his input. He types a couple of commands before finally getting a message asking if he would like to proceed. I would love to proceed. He hits enter.

A couple moments later a loading bar appears. After about a minute a green sliver appears on the bar and a number over it changes from 0% to 0.01%. He groans. He figured this was going to take a while, though thankfully it is a mostly hands-off process. He will still need to check on it from time to time if the software comes across something interesting, but he can spend the rest of the time going through the physical documents as the flash drive downloads the digital documents. Quite the interesting boon from his “Benefactor”, but he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The Phantom Blot snatches up the camera from the gray case along with an unmarked file lying on the desk and starts to thumb through the pages inside. Hm… Nothing relevant, yet . But this is just the beginning and sure he or that helpful little disc will come to find something, eventually. 

Almost half an hour passes and the Phantom Blot is still skimming through files, sneaking looks at the status bar, and taking pictures of anything that seems important. As he returns one of many research binders to its original location a sigh escapes his throat. Useless. Utterly useless. He leans over to the computer screen and notices that it is about 30%. Hm… Decent progress. But just as he thinks that a window pops up notifying him about an unknown secured document. 

He places his hand on the mouse and clicks on it further. From what he could see apparently this file was secured tighter than the other files. Seems like he will have to utilize some of his own hacking. He opens the feature for manual hacking and starts typing into the computer. It is a bit challenging since as much as he would hate to admit it, his hacking skills could use some sharpening. But luckily his skills are just enough for him to get in and review the file. 

As he clicks to check out the document, he smirks once he reads the document's name. “MyGreatestWork”. This has to be it. He opens the document with growing excitement, only for the corners of his mouth to drop once he realizes what it is.

"Great American Novel: The Novel of a Great American"

Son of a- It’s a stupid book he’s writing. He skims through the first paragraph. And it’s terrible. Has anyone told this moron the value of being concise? He’s just repeating himself half of the time, bloating the sentences for no reason. Focus, Blot. Alright. Alright. He closes the document and instructs the software to ignore it. Well, that was an utter waste of his time. Something that seems to happen way too often lately.

The Phantom Blot breathes heavily through his nose and returns to the research binders, pulling out another one, and then another one, and then another one. As the minute hand above swings around the clock, he finds himself in a similar place as before. A couple of tasty tidbits on hand, but not the full-course meal he’s looking for. Starting to get annoyed again, he takes a break and looks at the computer to see if anything new has been brought up. This time there is, as the same window from before sits on the screen, bringing attention to another unknown secured document. Better be something valuable.

He tries to look into it further, only to see that it is protected by something much more complex and tighter than even the “Great Novel” was. He rolls up his sleeves and starts to manually hack, but is immediately blocked by some type of digital lock that he has no time or idea of how to crack. Drat. He won’t be able to open the file fully… yet. If he takes this to his computer at home, he should have more powerful tools to assist him.

Regardless, it is clearly something important enough to be worthy of such a powerful lock. Definitely in the “Classified” or “Top Secret” category. If only he could at least see the name. Hm… I wonder . The Blot reopens the manual hacking system and continues to type. He could feel the sweat drop from his face as he put in way more effort than before in hopes of accessing just one simple thing. It took time, but thanks to his wits and creativity, he’s finally able to get the file name to appear on the screen: “Project B” 

That’s it. That has to be it. A dark chuckle rumbles in his throat as a wicked smile cracks open. He found it. He finally found it. In fiendish fervor, the Phantom Blot giddily instructs the computer to include the file amongst the ones being downloaded onto the drive. He takes a deep breath and falls backward into the professor's chair, pushing it enough to roll backward, before exhaling, relieving himself of every single ounce of stress and strain within his body. It’s done. It’s finally done. Mission Complete.

The second he finishes hacking into the files, he’s taking a one-way trip to his lavish beachfront mansion the next state over and pulling out a bottle of the finest most expensive drink he has. He could already imagine himself cruising down the highway, getting away from this horrid college town and onto bigger and better things. Perhaps he should reward himself by spending the entire weekend relaxing on the beach. Maybe he can even get some sketching done. It has been a while since he’s last done so.

But what about the date… Date? Oh right, he was going to take his "little girlfriend” on one final date, wasn’t he? Honestly, he might skip it. He could already feel the sandy white beaches calling to him and this location was starting to bore him. Penelope will be fine. She’s a cheerful, overly forgiving girl who may be down for a little while, but she'll move on. She’ll get over it. She has to if she wants to survive this cruel world. If anything he's actually giving her more time to recover for that little showcase thing. Honestly a very kindhearted gesture. She'll be fine. This was bound to happen regardless. Nothing to worry about.

Then why does something feel…off? 

His hand hovers over his stomach.

His ears perk up.

Someone’s coming. 

Within seconds he minimizes the loading screen, shuts off the monitor, grabs the gray case, organizes the files onto the desk just as they were, and rushes into a nearby closet, closing it quietly.

“Thank you. Thank you, Al. I’ll catch up with you later, much later.”

Professor Macopé enters the room and straddles over to his desk. He mumbles something under his breath as he picks up a file and looks under it. As he does this the Phantom Blot peers through the convenient slats of the closet, keeping a close eye on his body language. Of course. Of course, this idiot appears now when he doesn't need him. Ugh. Hopefully, this will be a short trip and he’ll be out of the way soon. He watches as the Professor flips over items on the desk, almost as if he is searching for something.

“Oh! There they are. There they are.” Professor Macopé says as he picks two items from the desk.

He lets out a sigh of relief, to which the Phantom Blot silently joins in. Hopefully, that is all he needs and the cretin can leave, allowing him to continue his work in peace. At first, that seems to be the case, as once Macopé places the items into his lab coat pocket, he makes his way around the desk, as if he was heading out. However, his eyebrows start to furrow as something catches his eye. Curses. What is he looking at? He has his notebook and ID. What else could he possibly- Wait. Where’s the tote? 

Blot peered into the room only to notice that the professor’s eyes were looking in the direction of the tote. Drat. Come on, Blot, you’re better than this. Wait. He’s not looking at the bag. Hold on. Blot closes in on the professor who turns away from the bag as something else seems to have caught the professor's attention. It was the light on the tower, signaling that it was on. Drat.

Blot flips out his phone and immediately starts to dial. Just as Macopé squats down and is about to curiously press the power button, his other pocket starts to ring and he pulls out his phone. “Macopé speaking.”

The Blot freezes, his thumb hovering over the call button. 

“Oh hello, Sergeant March. Yes, yes everything is going smoothly, smoothly.” The professor stands up and walks around the desk. “Yes, yes everything has already been moved over to base. I’ll tell you every-” The macaw heads out the door, closing it behind him.

…

…

Seems like the coast is clear. The closet door creaks open as the Phantom Blot gingerly steps out. He fixes his hair, still not believing the absolutely rookie mistakes that took place. This whole place is stressing him out, causing him to not think clearly. But no harm, no foul. All he can do now is take notes and move on. Blot makes his way over to the computer and turns on the monitor. 81%. Good. Seems like the process hasn’t been interrupted. He must get back to work. He’s so close and he can’t let any more missteps get in his way.

He picks through a final set of documents, still not finding anything too connected to his interests. Eventually, the number on the loading screen shifts from 99% to 100%, resulting in a  “Process Complete” message to appear. Delightful . He closes out of the program swiftly removes the drive and ejects the CD disk as a pleased grin graces his face. He licked his lips. Oh, he could already taste his future glory. Soon he will be rolling deep in top-secret research and excel to heights he could only dream of. Soon the entire world will be within his grasp, and no one will be able to stop him.

A vicious cackle slithers through his lips as he quickly and thoroughly reclaims and neatly puts away every single item of his, including that pesky tote. He carefully redresses the room to look exactly as it was before and quietly closes the door behind him. He cautiously sneaks through the second floor, avoiding any detection as he beelines towards the staircase. The moment the door closes behind him, he takes out the remote, adjusts the settings, and presses the button, causing the non-stop red light of the nearby cameras to blink once more. A sinister smirk dances across his face. It was as if I was never here.  

He makes his way down to the first floor and enters the hallway. It was easy to tell that Family Day was starting to wind down as floors were nowhere near as packed as it was before, but there were still quite a few people in the building. Time to return to his role as Bastion, find Penelope, and get the rest of this day over with. He dashes over to the conference room and instantly notices the completely empty tables and dishware. Outside of a couple of ladies talking, no one else was in this room. Hm… Perhaps she’s in that lab she talked about. Honestly, he had no idea which lab specifically it was, but he had some guesses.

On the way to each lab, he gives a quick glance at other rooms, looking for that little lady of his. Each room and lab had a couple of straggling guests within, but none of them were her. Where is that woman? Eventually, he changes course and just goes around asking people if they’ve seen a Pomeranian woman with long straight hair and a magenta cardigan. But every dope he asked just gave the same shrug. Pathetic. Of course. It’s like fate is playing a cruel game with him. She's always there when he doesn't need her, but now that he's looking for her... What did he ever do to deserve this?

I could just leave her here?

He gives a heavy sigh. No. He wouldn’t want to do that. It could cause some unnecessary drama and bring too much attention. If he just wanders around enough, he's bound to find her.

He makes his way down another hall. But immediately screeches to a halt as something strange catches his eye. He jogs over to a giant barred steel door embedded into the wall. It stuck out like a sore thumb compared to all of the surrounding decor. But that wasn’t the only thing odd about it. Blot opened the tote and stealthily pulled out the folded maps from the case, unwrapping the one to the first floor. Just as he thought. This door wasn’t on the map. It must have been added recently. But for what? 

“Are ya lost, stranger?” 

Bastion turned his attention over to the very familiar bleach-blond canine in heels behind him. He covertly hid the map back into the bag. Great. What does she want?

“I’m not sure, actually. I got separated from my girlfriend a while back and am trying to locate her.” He says, flipping his head back and forth as if he was lost.

“Oh yeah, I saw her runnin’ around earlier. Seems like she was lookin’ for you too.” Cia mulls as she steps closer to the hound in front of her.

“Do you know where I can find her?”

Cia places a manicured finger on her ruby lips and taps. “Well… I’ve seen her here and there. But I think I last saw her ‘round the offices down the hall.” She pointed to the right of Bastion.

“Brilliant. I appreciate the assistance. I suppose I’ll be on my way then.” He turns but stops as she clears her throat.

“Um… Before you go. I was wonderin’ if I could ask you somethin’?” 

Bastion paused, unsure how to feel about the request. “Yes?”

“How long are you plannin’ on bein’ with her?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Pardon.”

“How long do you plan to stay with little Miss Penelope?” 

“... I am not sure if I understand what you mean?”

“Oh come on. I’ve got a hard time believin’ that you are genuinely interested in her. I mean, don’t ya think you’re a bit… out of her league?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I think the idea of ‘leagues’ is a bit immature. We are adults, after all.”

“Yeah, yeah. But even I could tell that she’s a bit much for ya. I mean, not to assume, but it kind of felt like you were tryin’ to get away from her this entire time, with how hard she was lookin’ for ya. You're quite the slippery one, aren't ya.”

Bastion didn’t respond. He was not prepared for this. He somewhat wrote her off early and didn't expect at all for her to throw him off balance. He observes her closely. She wore a short pure white jean jacket over a very nice-looking blouse that perfectly matched the red of her heels and lipstick. She had her hips on some of the skinniest jeans he'd ever seen and emitted a confidence he barely ever saw. She's an attractive woman, he admits. And he would be lying if he said he had no idea where this conversation was going. But he's not sure if he wants to go there.

“Now don’t get upset, darlin’. I’m not tryin’ to cause anythin’.” Cia replied, clearly reading into the odd silence. “I mean we all love little Miss Penelope, no matter how much of a weird pain in the neck she can be. I’m just tryin’ to understand where you’re comin’ from, sugar.”

“Are you trying to say that you would be a better option?”

“I mean, I'm not directly sayin' that, but…”

“Are you saying that you wouldn’t have any faults?”

“Well nobody's perfect. Everyone has problems.”

“Such as…”

“What.” She laughed, “Do ya want me to list them out for ya? Do you want me to tell you that I have insomnia or something?”

“Do you?”

She shakes her head. “Well if you're so interested, why don’t I tell you over a drink.” Tempting.

He thought for a minute.

“Unfortunately, I’m a bit occupied at the moment..." Cia frowns. "But. If that changes... I may take you up on your offer.” She smiles, clearly pleased by this response.

“Alrighty then Mr. Faithful . You know where to find me.” Cia flashes a wink before turning around, her heels loudly clacking as they hit the tile.

“Indeed, I do.”

Within his time, the Blot has had many, many female pursuers. But he doesn’t know if he has ever had anyone as "direct" as her. He couldn’t help but find it intriguing… but also off-putting. That offer may be a useful tool in a later chapter of his life, but at this moment he has another chapter he needs to finish writing. He spins his dress shoes 90 degrees and heads down in the direction he was directed to. 

Eventually, he makes it to a room covered by tiny cubicle offices. He lifts the balls of his feet and peers over the sprawled walls, quickly noticing a light illuminating one of the desks. That better be her. He promptly makes his way over to the enlightened desk, praying in his impatient heart that it is his petite entourage. 

From what he could see as he got closer it was a quaint little desk lit up by a small purple desk light. All of the office supplies are made of this strange transparent purple plastic and both the computer and the cabinet above are sprinkled with all sorts of cute little stickers. There’s a miniature lava lamp right next to the computer, currently turned off, and a calendar on the cubicle wall with some kind of cell saying some kind of benign phrase. A corner of his cheek slightly lifts. This is definitely her. And indeed it was, he finally spots the little woman slumped over the desk with her head in her arms. Wonderful. Now they can get the rest of this day over with.

“Ah, there you are my darling.” Bastion exclaims dramatically, holding out his arms.

Penelope doesn’t respond. Strange.

“Sweetheart?” He says gently as he softly taps her on the shoulder.

She slowly raises her head and blinks open her eyes. “Oh, there you are.” She murmurs as she attempts to keep a smile. It fades pretty quickly though.

“Yes, my dear. I am here." He feigns sorrow. "I deeply, deeply apologize for being away for so long. It was truly such a disastrous turn of events. I thought I was only going to be gone for just a second, but then my stomach started to act up again, and then I kept on getting pulled away, and I couldn’t find you, and-”

“It’s okay, Bastion. I understand.” Penelope mutters as she attempts another fake smile. Weird.

“Are you feeling well?” He asks, almost genuinely concerned.

“Oh. It’s fine. It’s nothin’. There was just somethin' with the other researchers and Dirk and... It’s not that big of a deal. Let's just go."

"Are you sure, pet?"

"Yeah... It's okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Something definitely didn’t feel right.

“Again, I am profoundly remorseful for how this turned out, my treasure. ” He kneels down and takes her hand in his. “Is there anything, anything I can do to make it up to you?”  

“No. It’s fine.” I give up. “I actually just want to go home.” Fine by me. 

He's not going to complain about the chance to leave early. The faster out of here the better. But that doesn’t stop his irritation with her from festering. He knew that she would be a little bit upset, but not this much. She could at least be a little bit more responsive. He’s pulling all of the stops on his charm and it is barely affecting her. How aggravating. Oh well, doesn’t matter. He’ll be done with her soon and she’ll be nothing but a distant memory. Nothing to worry about.

“I understand.” Bastion cooed sweetly, “Let us be on our way.”

Bastion gently lifts her up from the chair and starts to guide her out of these stuffy cubicles, and through the halls and parking lot, into the beautiful seats of his stunning Corvidette. He gently closes the passenger door beside her and makes his way around to the driver's side, sneakily stowing the gray case into the trunk of his car on the way around. Once in the car, he turns the key and elegantly pulls out of the parking spot, soon coasting down the city roads.

The ride was pretty quiet. Actually much quieter than usual. Normally he would prefer this, but… Bastion glanced over at Penelope who was solemnly staring out the window. This is really the first time that he’s ever seen her like this. He usually finds her “energy” a bit much at times, but somehow this is worse. It's draining. I mean, he just beautifully completed a mission that he has been working on for over a month. A mission that will engrave his name in the halls of history as one of the best criminal minds to ever exist… And yet it doesn’t feel like a success. He pouts.

“You know, we still have our date later tonight. I have a feeling things will turn around then. I am already feeling better.” 

“Mmmhm…” 

“I think you’re really going to enjoy tonight. I have quite a special surprise for you.” 

“Mmhmm…”

Ugh... What is going on? Why is she acting like this? She’s being completely unreasonable. If he had half a mind he would kick her to the curb then and there and cut off all communication. He didn’t have to take her home. He doesn’t have to be doing this. He doesn’t even know why he’s doing this. She’s not even useful to him anymore. He doesn’t need this. He doesn’t need her. She’s ruining what should be a victory lap. She’s ruining EVERYTHING.

He viciously glares at her, ire completely hardening his heart. But the second he lays eyes on her, it softens. He doesn’t know why it softens. He just saw the way she slightly adjusted her hairband. He just saw the way her back gently raised and lowered as she breathed. He just saw her just being there, staring out the window. Quiet, but thinking. What is she thinking? This affected him. For some godforsaken reason, this affected him. What is going on? Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong. What did she do? He hates this. He hates it. He can't stand it. He feels sick to his stomach. He can’t breathe. He wants to scream. I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE.

Bastion slingshots his hand over to the radio, turning it on. But was quickly reminded about the prior volume issue as a blast of a charting Top 40 nearly ripped both of their ears off. Penelope whipped her head over to the chaos and Bastion was frantically pressing and turning random buttons on the keyboard, failing to actually reduce the ear-splitting clamor emitting from the speakers and losing his composure.

She quickly joined her hand into the fray, heading straight towards the volume knob, only for her hand to land right onto Bastion’s. They pause for a second before turning the knob together, reducing the decibel to a much more reasonable level and exhaling at the same time. Hand still on the knob, The two slowly turn their heads towards each other and stare at each other for a couple of moments. But eventually Penelope starts to laugh and Bastion smirks in return.

Bastion returned his eyes to the road. “I apologize for… that.”

“You’re fine." Penelope giggles, "What were you tryin’ to do?”

“Well… I just thought it would be fun to play some music. You know, set the mood.” 

Penelope smiles. “Well, it was kinda fun. A bit too loud though.” 

Bastion nods in agreement. “Very much so.”

Penelope gazes at him, warmly. “Thanks by the way and sorry for actin' weird.”

Bastion smiles. “You're fine.”

…

...

“Um… Bastion?”

“Yes, Penelope?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Well… I was just wonderin’ if… I-I just wanted to know if you could tell me…” Penelope stammered out. Bastion furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of where she was going with this. “Well… Can we change the radio station?” Thank the stars. He didn’t know how much longer of this trashy earworm schlock he could take.

“Certainly, darling.” He smoothly responds. “Just be mindful of the volume. I’ve been having a little bit of trouble with it.” He winks.

Penelope tilts herself forward to press a button on the dashboard. Bastion knew that she clearly wanted to say something else. But he didn’t feel like prying. The mood of the vehicle is improving and he didn’t want to ruin that. As Penelope presses the button, the genre of music changes, transitioning from pop to country and then to alternative rock, and finally stopping on what sounds to be… R&B. Good taste.  

Penelope reclines in her chair, already bobbing her head to the beat. Bastion didn’t look over, but could already tell that she seemed back to normal. Good. He never thought that he would ever be happy about that, but now that the car feels less dragged down, he feels like he can breathe and focus on what really matters. Such as that exquisite chemical component so close within his grasp.

“...And that was TLC with their latest hit that has taken the nation by storm.” speaks the warm gravely voice of the radio DJ, “And now it’s time for the moment y’all been waiting for. It's time for our ‘Mystery Song’. Y’all know what that means. We play a random fave and y’all guess what it is. Ya ready?” Bastion rolls his eyes over the cheap gimmick as Penelope leans in. “Here. We. Go.”

As the first few notes make their way through the airwaves, she is already bouncing from her chair. “Omigosh! Omigosh! Bastie! It’s my song! They’re playin’ my song!” Penelope squeals.

“That’s wonderful,” Bastion remarks, keeping his eyes forward.

He listens a little bit and it is a rather nice song. The orchestration is a rather nice touch and the singer has a unique but compelling voice. Bastion slips one more glance at Penelope who has graduated from head-bopping to rhythmically swaying her shoulders and arms. Hm. She seems happy. As long as this results in a peaceful drive home, he can’t complain.

…

“I PLAY IT OFF BUT I DREAMIN’ OF YOU…”

Oh no.

“AND I KEEP MY COOL, BUT I’M FEELIN’...”

What has he done? 

“I TRY TO SAY GOODBYE BUT I CHOKE…

TRY TO WALK AWAY BUT I STUMBLE…”

Bastion slowly rotates his head towards the tone-deaf pooch adjacent to him. He could feel his pitch-perfect ears screaming and his chance for a serene drive home slip straight through his fingers. He should find this extremely annoying.

"MY WORLD CRUMBLES WHEN YOU ARE NOT HERE."

Bastion cracked a smile before shaking his head. “What are you doing?” he chuckled.

He should have found this annoying.

He should have.

Chapter Text

Click. Click. Click. It takes a couple of rotations until a tiny flame finally sparks into view. Slowly it rises, getting closer and closer to its target. But before the tiny torch could even get the chance to singe the paper. The lighter is lowered for a second and then eventually goes out. No. Not now. He really needs to quit. Can’t be a Thief of Legends if he dies of lung cancer. The Phantom Blot tosses the two items onto the coffee table and falls back into an office chair. Landing with enough force for the chair to wheel backward. 

He covers his face with the palm of his hand, honestly having no idea where all this stress is coming from. This should be a celebration. He should be drowning himself in gratifications and accolades. At this very moment, the computer right in front of him is decoding the key to not only unlocking his full potential but also unforeseen power that will change the Phantom Blot forever. His destiny is literally knocking, begging for him to open the door… and yet even the smallest smirk refuses to grace his face. Pity.

The hound darts his eyes over to the monitor, slowly pulling the chair closer to the computer and placing his hand on the mouse. Perhaps examining the fruits of his labor will help it sink in. After a couple of clicks, a progress screen appears. Hmm… Seems like quite a few pages have been decoded already. Hopefully, that means he is beyond the worthless “dedications” and other drivel and can finally dig into the real meat of the research. With a couple more clicks, the Blot opens the deciphered text and starts skimming through the pages.

Useless… Useless… Useless… Ah. Here we go. The summary. The Phantom Blot leans into the computer, the corners of his mouth slightly twitching upwards with hesitant excitement.

“The Biomedical Research team at..." blah blah blah "... collaboration with the United States Department of…" blah blah blah "...endeavor into the unknown…” blah blah blah “... change the world forever.” I’m aware. Get to the point. 

“This has been a long time coming and is only possible due to the valiant efforts of…” The Blot face-palmed with searing annoyance. Come on. Why do these ingrates write like this? This isn’t grade school. It’s not like they have to meet a word count or something.

“We would like to thank all of the shareholders…” Skipping. “The dictionary defines ‘cooperation’ as…” Skipping. “This reminds me of the time I…” Skipping! “We have dubbed this endeavor Project ‘B’.” There we go. Now we’re talking.

“Project ‘B’ alternatively known as ‘Bass’..." Interesting name.

"... will consist of the development…” Yes.

 “... of a very important…” Yes.  

“... highly secured…” YES!  

“... construction of an additional research facility.” 

…

A building. 

He spent an entire month meticulously and intricately planning

For a building.

Pointless. Everything was pointless. He could just have the Blotonium research in his hand. But, No! The entire universe had to conspire against him instead. Dragging this frustrating exercise out until the end of time. He would question why on EARTH such a mundane thing is under top security protection. But this is the same airheaded avian who put an asinine creative arts project under a high-end security lock for some reason. 

Within seconds the Blot snatches up the previously tossed items from the couch, lighting one end of the cigarette within even less time. He takes in a deeply satisfying long drag, before eventually breathing out the smoke through his nose and mouth and collapsing onto the couch…Beautiful. He takes in another puff of his cigarette and stares out the giant window of the lavish penthouse he currently resides in. Disappointingly it wasn't really pretty, despite the decent view of the touted Olympic Park and new Aquarium.

Patience, Blot. He knows. Patience. A master criminal like him shouldn’t really be stressing over this. Sure this is more of a setback than he would like. But it’s nothing he can’t handle. Something something about “worth doing” and “easy”. Besides, he still has a plethora of other materials to go through. Items that could easily provide a clue to the whereabouts of the Blotonium research. To be frank, he’s honestly more upset about the wasted time than the lack of results. He’s been spending so long painstakingly preparing for this one heist, that he’s been forgoing others, even the smaller ones. He could feel a tiny part of him regret taking on these larger more secretive ventures. He didn’t realize they could be so… long and boring. They don’t offer him the chance to, for the lack of a better word, perform.

It’s truly been far, far too long since he’s made an “appearance”. More than half a year by now. There was an attempt with the Onyx Spotted Crown around a month ago. Tragically though, the exhibit closed early due to some irritating legal debacle and the prize left town before he had the chance to swipe it for himself. It was such a disappointment that he had to stop somewhere else to console himself. But unfortunately what he chose wasn’t anything worth putting his name on. But it would be a grave error to mistake this as him complaining or giving up. No. He never gives up. And once the Blotonium research is in his hands, all of this misery will be worth it. Fate may shine a smug sneer towards his direction, but he’ll wipe it off soon enough.

As he finishes that thought, one of the many phones piled up on the coffee table buzzes, almost startling him. Could it be… He quickly picks it up, looking at the special markings on the back that only he could understand. No… It’s not. He internally debates on whether it would be worth it for a couple of seconds, before finally resolving to open the texts.

CURGF#09 PPOM: Hey Bastie!!!

CURGF#09 PPOM: Cant wait 2 c u 2nite ;)

CURGF#09 PPOM: Tho can u come early?

CURGF#09 PPOM: I want 2 ask u someth

CURGF#09 PPOM: *Something

CURGF#09 PPOM: Nothing serious! Don't worry!!! :)

CURGF#09 PPOM: Ilu ttyl!!! <3

The Blot massages his temples. Darn it all. He completely forgot about the date. Why did he ever think planning that today was a good idea? And to make matters worse, now she wants him to come earlier. As if he doesn’t have enough things on his hands. Oh well. Not a big deal. He’ll just cancel it. Bastion moves his thumbs across the buttons. Typing a simple but sweet decline, but as the finger moves to press send… he oddly finds that he can’t.

Why can’t he hit send? What is going on? The Phantom Blot tries again and again to force his thumb towards the enter key, but something stirring inside prevents him from doing so. Something uncomfortable, and yet familiar. What is going on with him? More and more he has been noticing these lapses in judgements. They’ve been happening more and more recently. He thought it could just be latent bad luck from his recent endeavor. But this feels different. This feels connected to something else. 

Could it be… 

No. That’s not it. The Phantom Blot does not get affected by “things” like that. What’s more likely is that his gut is telling him to go beyond just ending the date. Oh, Penelope. My dear sweet Penelope. The one whose sunny disposition trails at her wake. Sure you were a mild annoyance at times, but could actually be rather pleasant and entertaining as well... Either way, you served your role as pawn well, and as much as it hurts to say, it may be time to put our relationship to rest. Truly, she will find this terribly upsetting and take it rather hard as she did in the-

Regardless, she is no longer of use to him. He has more valuable pieces to play with. A villainous cackle rumbles from within his throat. Now who's first on the list... Oh, right. That pathetic paternal professor in the tacky shirt. The name escapes him but still, what an intriguing prospect he would be. A man “trapped” in a domestic life that he hates, waiting for “freedom” to knock at his door and sweep him away into a new brighter future. The Phantom Blot mischievously smirks. Luckily for him, that’s a role he’s more than willing to play. What makes this even juicer is that the seeds for this option have already been planted, meaning all he would need to do is nurture those seeds and eventually harvest them. Though he’s not the only possible target, isn't he?

Cia was her name, right? Cia Copperfield. He initially disregarded her as she didn’t have any glaring insecurities or deepest desires he could take advantage of. And yet she essentially offered herself up to him. Out of everyone she has the closest relationship to Macopé, being essentially his second hand woman. She would be the best opportunity to truly get close to the blasted bird and anything he’s involved in. It seems too good to be true… and that alone seems like a red flag. Something tells him, she could be more trouble than she’s worth if he’s not careful. He’ll just have to decide if she’s worth the risk.

The Blot takes another puff, blowing the smoke through his mouth. Either way, this is a pivotal decision that requires much more and thoughtful contemplation he’ll have to set aside time for. And that will be better served with a more thorough understanding of what information he actually has on him. After one final drag of his cigarette, the Phantom Blot smashes it into the ashtray on the side table nearest him and tosses the phone back into the pile.

The canine makes his way to the dining room table, gingerly opening the silver box on top. He then carefully pulls out the digital camera, only to immediately freeze as something comes to his attention. Where’d they go? He searches through the entire table and frantically pats his pockets. Where did they go? The Blot scans the entire room before ripping the cushions off of the couch. BLOODY MURDER! WHERE DID THEY GO? They have to be here somewhere.

He knocks over the piles of cell phones, causing them to scatter all across the coffee table. There it is. Blot lets out a sigh of relief, picking up one of the items mixed in the pile. Thank the sta-... Wait a minute. He presses the power button of the remote. The TV turns on. Argh! Not what he’s looking for. He tosses the remote, hard enough to change the channel from WDN to some type of trendy music video channel. 

“Where did that cursed remote and map go?” The Blot muttered under his breath as he continued to take apart the hotel room. 

However, despite turning the entire living space upside down and then right side up again, he was unable to find the two missing. Ridiculous. Utterly Ludicrous. What is with all these juvenile mishaps? Is the entire universe against him or something? Calm down, Blot. He exhales. Right. Well if they’re not here, then they must be somewhere else. It’s possible it could be in his car, though it would seem odd for him to not notice the items given how pristine he keeps his vehicles. The chances of him leaving it at the research center are also minimal as he is one hundred percent certain they were placed into her bag and it would… His eyes widened. #@$&! Is this what she wanted to talk about?

The Phantom Blot despondently plops down on the nearest chair. Has she already looked through them? Has she already told someone? He may be able to come up with a decent excuse if it was just her. But if someone else is thrown in the mix that only complicates to a degree he couldn’t hope to control. Son of a Scoundrel. This could cost him the entire mission. Perhaps, it's not over yet. She did say it wasn’t serious. It’s possible that she hasn’t seen them yet. However, from his experience, people tend to say that when it is serious. He throws his head into his hands. Pfft… “Don’t worry” my a-

“Games, changes, and fears… 

Where do they go from here?

When will they…st-”

The television shuts off as the Blot presses down on the remote now in hand. He readies himself to toss the remote but instead continues to hold onto it, grazing his thumb on the power button. For some reason, he felt… calm. The storm of his mind has dissipated and been replaced with a warm summer breeze. What is this sensation? Is it comfort? Is it serenity? There was a peace within him, unlike anything he’s encountered before. And yet seemed familiar like the tender hand of a companion. He felt the strong temptation to press the button once more and soak himself again in the pleasant ripples of the dulcet tones. But he tosses the remote to the couch. 

He had no idea what on earth that was. But whatever it is, it was thankfully enough to clear his head for some proper scheming. Wallowing doesn’t solve anything. What he needs is a plan. And in order to properly assess the situation he will need to go to the location and devise a proper solution from there. The Phantom Blot glances at the clock on the wall. He’ll be significantly early if he leaves now. Which is more than fine with him. The sooner he gets there, the easier it will be to clean up the mess. Blot wanders over to the door, grabbing his wallet and keys before opening the door. He sneaks one last glance around, specifically looking at the television set, and then closes the door behind him.

A gloved hand lifts towards the door and gives a slight tug to the handle which doesn’t budge. The hand then slips into a nearby pocket pulling out a set of lockpicking tools, before swiftly being joined by its counterpart as they both jiggle the tools within the lock. Luckily, for them, their owner is quite proficient, able to speedily and covertly unlock the door without a single second wasted. The tools are then returned into the pocket with one hand as the other gently pushes open the door. 

Like a ghost the Phantom Blot slips into the apartment, not making a single sound as the sole of his shoes land on the carpeted floors. He surveys the room verifying that it is indeed empty with the tenant likely still in the bathroom. Good. Buys him some time. He tip toes across the dimly lit room, meticulously choosing every single step to make the least amount of sound possible, which wasn’t easy given the random assortment of items that littered the floor. She really ought to be a bit tidier. As he looks around, relief washes over him as he spies his prize hanging from a chair in what could be assumed to be the dining room area. Based on its placement and stature it appears completely untouched. As if it was indolently hung up on the chair the second she came home. Perfect. Maybe he wasn’t in as much trouble as he thought.

He crept closer to the table, almost stepping on a hidden corner of a slippery magazine, but was deft enough to move his foot away, avoiding what could have been a disaster. Eventually, he makes it to his target and silently slides his hand into the tote bag, expertly pulling out the folded maps with the tips of his fingers and the remote in the palm of his hand. Brilliant. She didn’t notice them at all. It was wise that he didn’t overcorrect. Now to head back to the hotel and leave this all behind-

“Bastie?”

Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat!Drat! 

“Ah, Penelope! Sweetheart!” spat out the once thief now boyfriend as thousands of curses and backup plans swirled in his mind. “You’re here!”

“Um… Yeah. This is my dorm,” She responds, both concerned and confused. “What are you doin’?”

Bastion chuckles as he slowly turns towards her, covertly slipping the two items behind his back as he does. “Apologies, my dear. I just wasn’t expecting you to return so soon. You se-” 

Breath leaves him the second his eyes fall on the vision before him. His throat tightens as his pupils trace across every single luscious curve of the veil of cascading clouds that sat upon her shoulders. Like the sun, her radiant face peeks out from the divine dark brown curls, illuminating the surroundings with such a gentle yet passionate fervor. He felt a fire in his core ignite. He felt the flutters rise within his abdomen. He felt completely dumbfounded as the only words that fell out of his mouth were,

“Your hair.”

“Huh..?” Penelope slightly tilts her head in confusion, before frantically straightening it and bashfully tucking away her hair in her hands. “Oh, this? Sorry. It’s just how my natural hair looks. I know it’s a frizzy unfinished mess at the moment. But don’t worry, I was just ‘bout to fix it with my straighte-”

“No! Wait!” Bastion shouts, the word running out of his mouth faster than he could catch it. “I did not consider it unfinished at all. I actually think it is quite lovely like this.”

“You do?” 

“Absolutely,” Bastion breaths out, before finally noticing his undignified behavior. He clears his throat and swiftly composes himself. “Though it is truly your decision in the end. I only wish for your happiness, dear.”

Penelope stood there stunned, though it was hard to tell if it was from the compliment or the sudden change in character. She loses herself in thought, before catching a glance at the mirror next to her. After staring for a bit, she smiles.

“Ya know, I actually always liked havin’ my hair like this. I’ve just straightened it, ‘cause other people… Well…” She pauses. “But ya know what, if you like it, and I like it, that’s all that matters, right?” 

“Certainly.”

“Alright then. Guess I’m keepin’ it like this. How excitin'!” Penelope says as she twirls around. “Oh, but I still need to powder up a little though. Do ya mind waitin’ a bit?”

“Take your time dear,” Bastion sweetly responds.

"Thanks."

Penelope bolts into her bedroom, the other canine eyeing her closely as she does so. The second the door shuts completely he exhales, relieving himself of every single bit of pressure that was building up. What in the devil was that? He was lucky that it turned in his favor, but he’s still lost on what just happened. He is a professional. He does not lose character. The Phantom Blot does NOT freeze like that.

Bastion pulls out the map and remote from behind him and stares at them for a second, before discreetly slipping them into each of his pockets. Best to take care of these, before they become another problem. He exits the dorms briefly, stopping by his car to drop off the items and change his shoes. He does feel an urge to get into the car and drive away but decides against it. As he returns to the dorm, he notices that the bedroom door is still closed with no plump pooch in sight. Unsure of what else to do, the hound wanders around the room, verifying that there were no other “missteps” that happened to slip his purview.

However, as he did so, he just couldn’t shake his mind off of what happened. He doesn’t know why, but lately, he’s been feeling less and less like himself. It’s like something is infecting him or possibly draining him. Siphoning away every single bit of expertise he spent years meticulously crafting and replacing it with misstep after misstep. But even beyond that, he’s been feeling things he’s never felt before. Weird mood swings that blur his mind and impair his judgment. Could he be sick? Is that why he’s feeling all these weird sensations? Perhaps it could be stress from the new type of work? What has overcome him? What is happening to him? What is wrong with me? 

No…It’s not him. 

Just like in the car. It’s…  

The door swung open. Penelope waltzes out of the room, her newly combed lush curls dancing around her. She wore the same magenta cardigan she wore earlier, but this time dons a frilly orange floral dress underneath with a large brown leather belt around her waist that perfectly matched her near-ankle height boots. As she came closer and closer, the sweet scent of coconut wafted towards his nose, tempting him to a state of bliss once again. But he refused the forbidden fruit this time. He is a man with a mission. He cannot lose himself. Though it may be wise to lose her.

“My love, you look absolutely divine,” Bastion professes as he lifts her hand and delicately plants a kiss. “My heart sings whenever I gaze upon you.”

“Oh, you~” Penelope gushes. “Though I just realized that I might’ve gussied up a bit too early. In fact, why are you here so early?”

Bastion softly smiles. “That’s because I have something special for you.”

“You do?”

Bastion winks and swiftly spins the small pup around, slowly unveiling something shining around her neck.

“Wait! Wh-” 

“Shh…” He connects the clasp from behind and turns Penelope straight towards the nearest mirror, kissing her on the cheek. “Surprise.”

She gasps, wagging her tail frenetically, as his gloved hand traces around the luxurious pure gold waterfall necklace that now adorned her. Each vertical chain of the necklace had a string of glistening diamonds embedded into it, causing the jewelry to glitter and gleam with even the slightest bit of movement. It is stunning. And no doubt extremely expensive.

“How do you like it, my precious pet? ” Bastion purrs.

The Pomeranian's eyes sparkle as her jaw practically drops to the floor. Bastion couldn’t help but chuckle to himself at the sight. Perhaps that pity jewelry run wasn’t as worthless as he thought. It actually does look rather nice on her. The sophistication mixes well with her lively demeanor. What a perfect chance to dazzle her one more time and soften the upcoming blow.

“Bastie!” Penelope finally sputters out. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“Then say nothing, my dear.” Bastion kisses her on top of her head. “Your face is all the poetry I need.” He rests his head on top of hers. “However there is one more thing I need to share.”

“One more?” she chirps. “Oh! That reminds me. I actually gotta talk to you ‘bout somethin’ too… But I guess you should go first? You did bring it up before me.”

“Hmmm… I suppose you could go first.” 

“Really?”

“Sure.” Might as well. He has always been a bit too curious for his own good.

“Oh. Okay. So… Um… I know you planned somethin’ really special for our date tonight.”

“I did.”

“Well… I was kinda wonderin’... if we could... I dunno… try somethin’ different?”

Bastion raises his eyebrow. “Different?” What is she getting at?

“Yeah, different. Now don’t get me wrong, I love all the fancy dates you’ve been takin’ me on. They’re the best nights I’ve ever had. But… I kinda feel like…Well… I dunno… I was just thinkin’... if you still… ya know… ” Bastion's face twists in suspicion as she takes a deep breath. “I just thought it would be cool if maybe I plan the date this time?”

“You plan it this time?”

“Yeah! I uh, just had a couple of fun ideas for that I think would make a good time. Somethin’ new for us to try. Course it’s only if you wanna. I understand either way.”

Sounds fun. Bastion thought as he internally rolled his eyes. As “wonderful” as that idea sounds, tragically he must decline. It’s nothing against her, he just doesn’t have time for any distractions. And what matters most right now is his criminal career and future as the Phantom Blot. He cannot afford any more slip-ups or odd behaviors. He cannot afford jeopardizing everything that he’s worked for. Her “charms” may temporarily throw him off guard, but he will resist. Now to nip this in the bud and end this all for good.

“That sounds utterly delightful,” he begins. “Bu-”

“Really!” Penelope interrupts, bouncing straight upwards into his chin. “Omigosh! Bastie! I’m so sorry! I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

Bastion wanted so badly to respond, but unfortunately, his tongue hurt like the searing flames of hades from essentially guillotined between his teeth. From a quick touch, it seems to be all in one piece, but his pain receptors told a different story. Perhaps it was a good thing that he couldn’t speak at the moment, lest he spill profanities that would utterly destroy her perception of him.

“Here. Let me get you somethin’,” Penelope says as she leads Bastion to a nearby chair and rushes to her fridge. 

She soon returns with an ice pack that Bastion quickly snags and presses against his tongue. Already he could feel soothing ice salve his injured tongue, though there was still a vicious throbbing pain. 

“Oh. I’m so sorry, Bastie. I just got a bit too excited. Are you okay?” Penelope kisses him on the cheek.

“Mmhmm…” Blot mumbles, ice still on tongue.

“Well, you just sit there and heal. We don’t gotta go right now. But don’t worry, you’ll feel a lot better once you see what I’ve planned. Oh! Maybe it would help if I told ya. You see I wanted to..."

As Penelope drones on, Bastion wishes he could interject and stop her. But with the state of his tongue at the moment, there wasn’t a way to do it without making a fool of himself. He would like to maintain at least some semblance of dignity. The canine gentleman looks down at the chatty Pomeranian, studying every single gesture and facial expression she made as if he was a scientist and she was his subject. 

She is rather peculiar, isn’t she? Every time something excites her, she has such a contagious smile and her eyes glow like the sunlight peeking through. He would be lying if he said he didn’t find it somewhat entertaining to watch. She’s very easy to read, but only because every room that she enters bends to her will. He's almost impressed by her ability to exploit this radiant energy and force everyone near her to feel what she feels. To see what she sees. To want what she wants.

…

She’s really looking forward to this, isn’t she?

Bastion quietly shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Looks like he’s going on a date.

“Does it still hurt, Bastie?” Penelope asks, turning her head away from the front window.

“No,” he replied, gripping the handle above tightly.

“That's good! Um, sorry ‘bout that again.” Penelope says as she returns her attention to the road.

“Quite alright.”

To be honest, his tongue was still throbbing, which was irritating, but he couldn't complain much as most of the pain had dissipated. What he can complain about is being trapped in this awful rusted trash heap she called “Betsy”. If the chipped paint of a color that belongs in a toilet and not on a truck wasn’t enough, it would be the irritating polyester seatbelt and uncomfortable vinyl seats. Typical for a cheap American brand whose name already vacated his mind. He would never steal this vehicle even if it was the last truck on earth. 

If he had half a mind he wouldn’t ever dare to step within 50 feet of this “thing”. But since he was incapable of declining this date straight to her face, it followed that he would give in when she “insisted” on driving “her” car. He would like to claim that he’s just trying to stay in character as “Bastion: The Perfect Boyfriend” trademarked. But it is something more insidious and seemingly outside his control. How is she doing this? How is she able to cast these wicked spells at his ribcage and have such power over him? He would find it impressive if it was happening to literally anyone el-

The truck screeches to a halt, forcing both of the canines to jolt forward, and for Blot to almost faceplant into the window. For a second Bastion thought they might have hit something, only to notice Penelope calmly looking behind her shoulder as she backed into a parking spot. 

“We’re here!” Penelope cheers as she unbuckles herself and jumps out of the vehicle.

Goody. Perhaps he shouldn’t be too sarcastic, he gets to leave this disgusting vehicle after all. After way too many attempts to unbuckle the seatbelt, Bastion finally opened the door ready to see what “fun” Penelope had planned for him. What he didn’t expect was for the disproportionate weight distributed across the car door to cause it to swing out much faster than anticipated, forcing him to lose balance and almost fall straight out of the car and right on his face. Luckily his keen instincts kicked in at the last minute and he managed to save his beautiful visage from a tragic fate, but that didn’t help his mood much. As he leaps out of the car, he intentionally slams the door too hard. This piece of filth should be impounded… Actually. Bastion grins mischievously.

“Bastie! Are ya comin’?” Penelope shouts from the other side.

“Coming.” Bastion sings, eventually making his way over to the pooch who was barely containing her excitement.

“Ta-da!” Penelope says as she cheerfully presents some kind of location.

Bastion adjusted his view beyond her and within an instant his stomach sank for what lied before him was the most putrid tackiest run-down establishment that has ever graced his eyes. It took all of his strength and acting chops to not visibly gag as he stared at the horrific restaurant if you could even call it that. He gradually peers up at the revolting yellow sign where most of the letters were either missing, broken, or faded out. The only exceptions being a “P”, “A”, “I”, and “N” respectively. Great.

“Oh… Darling… What is this?” Bastion inquires, internally cringing.

“It’s a Pancake Station! Haven’t ya ever been to one?”

He doesn’t respond.

“Wait! Seriously? You’ve never been to a Pancake Station, like ever?”

No response.

“Omigosh, are you serious? That’s so crazy. I can’t believe this is your first time.” She grabs his hand and starts to drag him forward. “Well don’t worry, you’re gonna love it. It’s a staple down south for a reason. I used to go here all the time as a kid, and ya know, durin’ finals. It’s open 24/7, all year round, and up to category 5 hurricanes. I mean, what other place is like th…”

Penelope’s voice fades in the background, as Bastion’s frozen body draws closer and closer to the grotesque venue before him. He attempts a protest but finds himself unable to due to his fright response strangely and frustratingly taking over his flight one. Before he could even process the situation, he found himself in a sticky booth with a weird smell staring at a yellowed torn-up menu. How did he get here?

The canine frantically looks around his surroundings trying to get some semblance of sanity. He currently spots eight other patrons with a waitress walking around and a cook in the kitchen. There’s a very indecent couple loudly arguing at a table near the door. Over by the bar is a shabby-looking mouse, snoring loudly and even drooling on the table. Gross. But what was worse was the completely out-of-control family in the booth behind him. The horrid brats banging on anything and everything within range as a baby screams straight into his ear. All of his senses are being assaulted in the worst way possible. What did he ever do to deserve this?

“Whaddya'll want?” says the bear waitress as she roughly sets down two room-temperature cups of water.

“Um… I think we’re gonna need a minute.” Penelope responds. “This is his first time at a Pancake Station. ” She follows in a whisper.

“Really?” the waitress responds with fake surprise. “I couldn’t tell.”

“Yes ma’am. But don’t worry, I’ll give him a lay of the land,” Penelope adds with a wink.

“Alright child, just let me know when y’all ready,” The waitress finishes, making her way to the front.

“So… Already know whatcha want?” Penelope says, shifting her focus back to Bastion.

“I… Uh…” Bastion stutters, still annoyingly distracted by the brat behind him.

Penelope giggles. “That’s alright. I figured you would need some help.” The Pomeranian grabs one end of Bastion’s menu and pulls it between the both of them. “Now when you think of the Pancake Station what’s the first thing you would ‘think’ to get?”

“... The pancakes?”

“Exactly. But that-” Penelope pulls the menu out of his hands. “...would be a mistake. I mean... Okay. The pancakes are alright, but they’re better at three in the mornin’ snack after ya ‘party’ a bit too much, if ya know what I mean. If you want the really good stuff, ya gotta be in the know. And as someone in the know, I can tell you there’s one item on here that is a mile high above the others, but you’ll miss it if you don’t pay attention.” 

She taps on one of the items listed in extremely tiny print. Bastion squints and leans forward, attempting to read the smudged print.

“You ever had this before?” Penelope asks.

Bastion shrugs his shoulders, giving up on trying to read the illegible item.

“Really? Dang. Wish I was in your shoes. This right here is the best darn thing in all the South. Now. To warn ya it may seem a little odd at first and a bit different than what you’re used to, but I think if you gave it a chance, you’d really like it. I haven’t steered ya wrong before, right?”

Bastion would personally argue that she has steered him wrong before. Steered him wrong multiple time, including something specifically food-related. In fact, she’s been steering him wrong this entire day. Playing mind games on him and pushing him to react out of character. But at this point, he feels so defeated and embarrassed by just being in this situation, that he’s lost his will to care anymore. Whatever gets this date over faster. He gestures an apathetic go-head resulting in a thrilled reaction from his partner as she calls down the waitress.

Time passes as Bastion tries his best to mentally escape as Penelope goes on about… something. Probably about the Pancake Defecation or whatever this offensive locale is called. Regardless he doesn’t pay attention, intentionally this time, and tries his best to avoid eye contact, while also not making it obvious that he’s avoiding eye contact. It was the best way he could think of to “loosen” this grip she somehow had on him and focus on planning his next steps after this “date”. Luckily for him the miniature banshee and her monster family were soon removed from the restaurant, giving him a sudden moment of peace and a space to think. This, however, is very short-lived, as a gaggle of imbecilic teenagers with skateboards enter the restaurant and speak to each other in some type of moronic “dude”-based language. Please kill me.

Eventually, two plates were dropped among the two, the ceramic plates clattering against the laminate wood table. Bastion lazily drifts his eyes away from the hooligans and towards the food only for them to widen in pure disgust. What. Is. That? Before him was a gag-inducing pile of lumpy off-white sludge with chunky brown bits sticking out. He knew he had to lower his standards for whatever came his way, but this is beyond him. This is it. This is the final straw. He’s going to break more than just his character. He needs to leave. Now. The hound darts around for an escape but instead accidentally catches the eyes of Penelope Pomeranian.

“Go ahead,” she coaxes. “I wanna see your reaction.” The little lady eagerly looks at him with those godforsaken giant pleading eyes. Yet another of her tricks. He can’t do this anymore.

I got to go to the bathroom. I’m allergic. My dog’s sick. The world’s on fire. I left my oven on. My grandma died. I’m having a heart attack. My toilet is clogged. I had a big lunch. There’s a flood coming. I have a dentist's appointment. My stomach hurts. My favorite show is on. I-... Billions upon billions of excuses flood the mind of the silver-tongued mastermind. However, it ended up being too much, resulting in him to freak out internally instead. What is going on? Why am I still here? Where is all anxiety coming from? WHY CAN’T I JUST-

A splash of water drenches the panicking gentleman, causing every single head to instantly snap straight to him. The ursa waitress grabs the tipped-over tumbler and sets the full pile of trays on a nearby table. 

“I am so sorry, sir,” the waitress apologizes. “Here let me get you-”

“No,” Bastion responds sternly as he bolts up from the table. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, sugar?” the lady asks, slightly puzzled.

“Bastion, are you okay?” Penelope follows.

He pauses for a minute before finally responding between gritted teeth, “Peachy.” 

Bastion marches towards the restroom, the other patrons watching for a little bit before slowly returning to their tables. Once in the bathroom, he locks the door and grabs a handful of paper towels, dabbing his dress shirt and pants dry, trying his best to ignore how cheap and possibly disease-ridden they may be. He then thrusts them all onto the ground and pulls out a lighter, igniting one of two of his emergency cigarettes. Rapidly and repeatedly smoke enters in and out of his airways as he paces around the single-stall bathroom, fuming.

He could NOT believe that he allowed himself to be so humiliated. And within this bottom-of-the-barrel restaurant, surrounded by repugnant simpletons of all things. He could feel the entire restaurant, No, the entire universe jeering at him. Mocking him for his weakness and being so easily fooled to participate in this trainwreck. Well no more. He’s done being everyone’s jester. He will be getting out of here and he will never come back to this vulgar location ever again. That is that. And as for that sweet little Penelope.

...

He’ll have to handle her over text. That way she won’t be close enough to control him anymore. Heartless, maybe. But he doesn’t care. He shouldn’t care. She’ll just have to deal with it like all the other pawns he’s used before. But first, he needs to get out of this blasted building. The Phantom Blot frantically searches around the latrine for an escape, however, the room appears to be completely walled in without a window or window of opportunity in sight. At least that is what he thought before noticing an air vent right over the toilet. Bingo. He could always trust his dear friend, air vents. Bastion speeds up to on top of the toilet seat, taking great care to not fall in. However as he gets closer he notices something odd about the air vent, it looks rather flat, including the holes. Almost as if it was... He peers closer... A sticker of an air vent. Not an actual air vent. For Pete’s sa- WHO PUT THAT THERE.

The Blot leaps off the toilet and starts to pace around the room. Seems like his only escape is through the front door. If only I had the skills to get in and out of places without being seen. The Phantom Blot sneers. He tosses the cigarette into the toilet and slightly creeks the door open, peeking an eye out. Coast is clear. He slides out the door, skillfully remaining within the shadows of the tiny corridor. Based on his view, If he darts over to the bar, slips through the currently empty stools, and dashes out the door. He should be able to leave with ease. The only thing he’ll have to worry about is being spotted by any of the pathetic patrons and the clumsy waitress. From a quick count, there seems to be seven patr- a soft ring plays. He leans out for a second. Nine patrons within the restaurant. 

He doesn’t need to worry about the three teenagers as they likely have the attention span and passive perception of a goldfish. The couple in the corner is also unlikely to be a threat due to their heated conversation. The inattentive mouse at the bar is small enough for him to slip under the legs, and drowsy enough to not notice. This mostly leaves the waitress and the two new customers. If he can time it correctly, just as they are about to order, he should be able to sneak out at that very moment, leaving this sadistic situation and location for good. Perfect. However, there’s another thing he’s missing, or more accurately avoiding, isn’t he?

The Blot reluctantly glances over to Penelope who is still sitting in the booth. Alone. Sometimes her eyes would peer towards the restrooms, clearly looking for him, but mostly she stared straight into the untouched plate of food in front of her. He wonders what she is feeling. Why do you care what she’s feeling? Now she’s grabbing onto her curls, twirling them gently between her fingers, before suddenly and awkwardly releasing them as if she remembered something. He couldn’t help but raise a corner of his mouth at that. He wonders what she is thinking. Why do you care what she’s thinking? But then her head droops and eventually falls into her arms. She turns her head towards the window and stares out of it, resulting in a recently familiar sight. Familiar and…

…

Curse it all.

Bastion makes his way back over to the booth, plopping straight down onto the sticky vinyl seats. He looks straight at Penelope who lifts her head and stares back, completely bewildered by his sudden appearance. Bastion then snatches up the fork and cuts a piece of the slop in front of him, fighting back a grimace as he does so. He then lifts the fork, slowly bringing it higher and higher, and opens his mouth. Before he puts it in, he looks towards Penelope one more time. This time catching a more curious expression. He inhales through his nose, strangely holds for a second, and shoves the food in his mouth. Chewing once, then twice, and then immediately covering his mouth with his hand. Son of a-

“So?” Penelope inquires.

“This… is…” He swallows. “... the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Bastion murmurs. 

And he did not lie. From that first sniff, he could tell that he was in for something interesting. But he had no words for the experience he went through. The creamy silky gravy at near-perfect thickness. The savory sausage is packed with spices giving the dish the perfect kick. The buttery soft biscuits underneath that soak in everything into a powerful delicious bite. It was as if some celestial being touched his soul, giving him brief clarity of a profound vision. A vision he could barely describe. He feels like an utter heretic for how he reacted before. But with each forkful, he felt forgiven.

Penelope on the other hand couldn’t contain herself from giggling at the sight of her boyfriend completely devouring his meal, savoring every single bite. A complete change of behavior from before. “I’m guessing you like it? Ain't it the best?” she cheerfully comments.

“What spices are in this?” Bastion postures as he inhales some more. “I taste chili pepper, paprika, and some type of herb I can’t place. Do you know how they achieve this gravy consistency? I have never been able to get something this smooth and yet thick. Does this have whole milk in it? No, this has to be heavy cream, right? Perhaps a bit of both?”

Penelope gave a blank stare. “Boy, I dunno any of that. Ya gotta talk to the chef.”

“Of course. Of course. Makes sense.” He mutters shoving in another mouthful, completely relishing the taste.

Penelope laughs and shakes her head. “I didn’t know you were into food like this.”

Bastion smirks. “I do dabble in the culinary arts every once in a while.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Really? You ‘dabble’ and yet I ain’t ever tasted your cookin’?”

“I usually save it for special occasions.”

“Well then, let’s make one.”

“Excuse me?”

“A special occasion. How ‘bout… when I get my first round of testin’ done?” Penelope rubs her hands.

“Hmm…” He takes a bite.

“My second round?”

“Hmmmm…” He takes another bite.

“Are you serious?”

“I suppose I could do it for your birthday.”

“What!” Penelope exclaims. "That's not fair. I ain't waitin’ that long. How ‘bout when I finish all my testin’ and get my results? Final answer!”

Bastion softly chuckles. “We’ll see, sweetheart. We’ll see.”

“So… What’d he say?” Penelope probes.

"The chef?" Bastion questions.

"Yeah."

Bastion sighs, slinking into his car seat. “Not much. Perhaps it’s my fault for expecting the cook for a franchise chain to simply know what they put into the food they serve.”

Penelope turns her head towards Bastion, slightly perplexed by the response, before returning her eyes to the road. “Yeah, I think they just get the ingredients from the people who own the ‘Pancake Station’ brand. And yet it still ends up so darn good.”

“Indeed. Luckily I was able to pick up some of what I may need from a cursory glance. I should have more than enough to experiment and figure out the rest on my own.”

“Ooh! Can I be your taste tester?”

“Hm…” Bastion taps his lips. “I am not sure if you meet the qualifications.”

“What! Course I do. I’ve been havin’ their biscuits and gravy since I was in my momma’s belly. If anythin’ I’d be the best judge out of anyone”

“Well… I suppose you could submit an application. I will warn you that the position is fairly competitive.”

“Competitive? Against who?”

Bastion winks.

“Okay ‘Mr. High Standards' Guess I’ll fill out an application.” Penelope rolls her eyes. “But either way I’m glad you’re havin’ fun. I can’t wait for you to see what’s next.”

“I await with bated breath,” Bastion responds.

He flips his head towards the window, unable to wipe the grin off his face. He can’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this… Good? Tranquil? Regardless, it is a much-welcome change of pace. Like feeling a warm ray of sunshine on a chilly cloudy day. The canis gent sneaks a couple of glimpses over at Penelope who is doing the same as she drove. He couldn’t help but find it amusing. Honestly, he can’t recall the last time he ever felt like this. He felt like he wouldn’t mind if things stayed like this a little bit longer. It’s rather pleasant.

Bastion stares at the window, contently watching the bustling city pass by. However as he does, something catches the corner of his eye. Something wrong. Something that should not be there… What are you doing? Suddenly a shrill shriek erupts, forcing his attention away from the reflection and startling the two canines. A rough thudding noise soon follows before the truck ultimately rolls to a stop and then crashes down as smoke emits from the hood.

“Oh biscuits, Betsy!” Penelope shouts as she dashes out the door.

Disconcerted, the gentleman places his hand on the door handle but then halts. So easily charmed he was. So quickly he almost lost himself. Keep it together.

Bastion pulls forward the handle and pushes the door open, being cautious of the weight this time. He then wanders over to Penelope who was struggling to open the hood at the front of the truck. She finally succeeds, only to narrowly avoid a face full of smog thanks to her boyfriend pulling her back in time. 

“How’d this happen?” asks a distraught Penelope.

“I have no idea,” Bastion lies.

Penelope hectically looks around the engine, only to slump in frustration. “Ugh, I can’t tell what’s wrong this time. I don't think I’ll be able to fix this quickly enough.”

“It is getting dark too,” Bastion unhelpfully adds.

“This really sucks. And we were havin’ such a good time.”

Bastion pauses for a second. Perhaps it would be wise to take advantage of this opportune moment created by his unintentional foresight. He had a good meal and he had a good time, but it would be best to quit while he's ahead. If he's not careful, things can drastically shift from pleasurable to distracting. And he can't risk too many distractions on a mission as important as this. He should never forget why he's here. And he should never forget who he is.

Bastion embraces his arms around Penelope. “My dear, I truly hate to say this. But I think we may have to cut our date a bit short.” Penelope sighs, causing Bastion to pull her in closer. “Trust me pet, I was so looking forward to what you’ve planned for us. But it seems like fate has different plans and we can’t change fate.”

“Hmm… Maybe we can,” she ponders.

“Pardon.” What?

“I don’t think our date’s over yet. We actually are only a couple of blocks away from where I wanted to take ya. We should be able to walk there, like no problem,” Penelope beams.

Yay. “But what about your vehicle?” Bastion queried, tampering down his disappointment. “It would not be wise to leave it behind.” 

“Oh, I’ll just call a tow truck. Luckily, I’ve got the number saved on my phone.” Dang it.

“I see. Though it may take a while to come. I would hate for you to spend our precious date, just sitting and waiting in the dark.”

“Pfft. Don’t worry. They ain’t too far from here and should be here in a jiffy. This ain’t the first time OI’ Betsy has broken down if you could believe it.” Double dang it.

Bastion racks his brain trying to find another excuse, any excuse, that could get him out of here. But before he could even decide on one, Penelope raised the phone to her ears. Brilliant. Utterly Brilliant. Foiled again.  He covertly leers at her, as she blabs on the phone, wearing that bewitching little grin as she does. Part of him wonders if she may be a witch. Secretly casting spells to ruin his goals and possibly his life. Either way, She appears skilled when it comes to throwing a wrench in his plans. He sighs. Seems like he’ll have to wait yet again for another opportunity to cross his path. Though he would be lying if he said he wasn’t slightly intrigued by what she had planned. Hopefully, it is something quick and painless. As long as he keeps his head and his distance from her, there shouldn’t be any more trouble.

After Penelope finishes the call, the two wait for a short period before a tow truck comes and takes Ol’ Betsy away. A silver lining in this odd night for Bastion. They then made their way down the street, Bastion walking on the side closest to the street as any decent gentleman should. He does however out of his way to avoid contact with the other plebeians not worth his time. Though it’s not like the other views were much better. He doesn’t know why anyone would willingly want to live here. It’s not really a thrilling place to live. Within time, the two pass by a giant convention center with crowds flocking in and out. Across the top there was a banner reading out: “PROFESSOR LUDWIG VON DRAKE'S WONDER MUSEUM PRESENTS: WORLD OF ANIMALS - LEARNING MORE ABOUT OUR FRIENDS WITH SCALES, WINGS, AND OTHER THINGS”. 

The banner included a picture of an older-looking duck holding a snake, squirrel, and parrot in his arms. Strange. Slightly impressed with how they managed to get so many words onto a single banner, Bastion couldn’t help but be bewildered by the entire display and how many people seemed “excited” about it. Outside of maybe distracting little rugrats for a couple of minutes, which seems to be the case based on the number of families he sees. But for him, it wasn't worth a second glance.

“We’re here!” cheers Penelope.

“Here?” Bastion repeats, hoping he misheard her.

“You bet!” Penelope confirms as she turns towards the building. Why is he not surprised?

"Darling, I'm not sure if this is meant for... older audiences."

“Psh. Yeah, it is. It's for everyone. I don’t know if I told you this, but I’m a huge fan of Professor Ludwig Von Drake. He’s one of the best scientists ever and has done so much to make science not only more accessible but fun for everyone. I’ve heard ‘bout this new travelin’ ‘Wonder Museums’ and always wanted to go to one, but wouldn’t ya know it, turns out they’re holdin’ one today, right in our city.” She pointed to this sign. “Someone at the 'Family Day' event told me. Ain’t that great?”

“Quite.” Bastion mutters.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.” 

Penelope grabs his hand once again, causing deja vu for the canine as he is pulled closer to the building, though thankfully was at least conscious this time. With all this dragging he would be surprised if he still has some heel on his shoes left. But that’s not the concern at the moment, isn't it? The hound rolls his eyes. The sooner it happens, the sooner it is over. If he can handle a dirty eatery, then he can handle a museum. Besides, if there's one thing museums are known for is being clean, calming, and refined.

The couple wanders into the Wonder Museum, zipping through the front lobby, and joining a mass of people heading down to the "museum". Bastion would normally be repulsed by being sardined into the crowd, but it was thankfully short-lived as they made it onto the convention floor. Bastion looks up and is aggressively greeted with the reason why “wonder” was an apt name for this museum.

A bullet train of bright, colorful, and noisy stimuli charges right into his face, resulting in the most chaotic and energetic spectacle ever known to man. For a second, Bastion thought that they might have accidentally stopped by an indoor theme park instead. But after a closer view, he could see that this was, in fact, a museum. The biggest clue was the plethora of exhibits and booths that lined the massive space, inviting nothing but curiosity and excitement in every corner. Every single one was uniquely made and represented a specific animal, educating guests through a variety of displays, activities, models, games, art pieces, interactives, props, et cetra, et cetra. You would save more time by naming what wasn't the museum than what was. As Bastion surveys the madness, he struggles to exactly place the exact emotion he is feeling but knows it is along the lines of being overwhelmed with some traces of dread.  

“Sweet heaven above," Penelope gushes, completely starry-eyed. "This is... This is..."

“A lot.” Bastion finishes.

"Exactly. I don't even know where to start. Whaddya wanna look at first?”

Bastion surveyed the many, many options that lay before him. But it was honestly too much. He could barely even think. He felt something grab his hand, only to notice it was Penelope. She gave it a tight squeeze, which he had to admit was somewhat calming. At least enough to clear his mind on what he really needs.

“I think I need to get some water. Would you like anything?”

“No, I’m fine. Are you okay? Do you need me to come with you?”

“No need. Why don’t you pick an exhibit for us to look at when I come back?” He kisses her cheek.

“Copy that,” Penelope responds with a salute.

The two separate with Penelope going deeper into the booths and Bastion heads straight to the vending machine towards the backend that caught his eye. What a relief. As he inserts the cash into the machine, he spots something in the corner of his eye. Hmm... Red fur. Dumb shirt. Could it be... Slowly he rotates his head over and sees that it is indeed the same professor he saw at the “Family Day”. What are the odds? Bastion eyes the man as he wobbles over to a nearby bench and plops down, clearly exhausted. As if this was the first time he had a moment to himself all day. Bastion would shake his head, but that would be hypocritical. If anything the other man seems to be more successful than he. Bastion presses the button for water, waiting a couple of seconds for the drink to drop in the bottom pick-up area. As he retrieves the drink, he can’t help but look back toward the professor, who now has his head in his hands.

Interesting. He could feel the thick wave of desperation wafting off of him. He wants something. No, not something. Someone. Someone who would change everything. Someone who could offer him something beyond what he's ever had. Someone to sweep him off his feet and show him the full extent of what life could be. What life could mean. A vicious grin cracks across the canine’s face. This is just too delicious... and perfect. Within seconds he could get that man wrapped around his finger with the simplest of words. The seeds have already been sown, the crops have grown, and now is the moment to reap. But there’s no reason to get his hopes up, is there? He’s more than capable of recognizing patterns. He knows that the second he shows the slightest interest in pursuing this lead…

“Bastie! There you are! Follow me!” Penelope leaps out of nowhere, hauling him away by his wrists. 

… that this would happen. Bastion grits his teeth. Figures. Oh well, he’ll have plenty of other times to catch up. The fox professor shouldn’t be that hard to find or communicate with. But that's for another time. Bastion returns his focus forward as Penelope dashes straight through the booths, grinding both of their heels as they finally stop at one.

"Here we are!" Penelope says as she presents possibly the least colorful exhibit in the entire facility.

Bastion was somewhat surprised by the choice, but he's not going to complain. He prefers the browns, grays, and blacks of the dreary booth over some neon-technicolored vomit he saw used for other exhibits. Bastion twists open the bottle and takes a drink. All right. What flea-bitten vermin is he going to learn about today? The first things he notices are the… uh… badly made wads of fuzz hanging above from a spinning mobile. Across the walls of the exhibit are a variety of placards, no doubt sharing some information about these bizarre creatures. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to educate himself on some useless pest, but as he spots the professor being dragged away by his wife, it seems like he has no choice.

“Ain’t bats the coolest?” Penelope chirps. These are supposed to be bats? “They’re one of my favorite mammals ever, after the platypus, of course.” 

“Of course,” Bastion repeats, harshly judging the cheaply-made cardboard stalagmite props. 

“I mean as someone in BioMed, I can appreciate that ‘bout 80 medicines we use come from plants pollinated by bats. But honestly, there’s just so much to love ‘bout these little guys.”

“I bet.” Bastion raises his eyebrow. Did she learn that from her degree?

“I mean, first of all, they’re the only mammals that can fly. Second of all, ‘bout twenty percent of all mammals are bats. And third of all, they use echolocation to ‘see’ at night. Literally sound-waves. How'd we ever get the share a world with these guys?”

Bastion raises the other eyebrow. How does she know all this? “Have you been here before?” he asks. 

“Huh?” 

“This exhibit. Have you already looked through it?”

“Oh, no. This is my first time here.”

He stares at her, completely baffled.

“Oh! Yeah. Sorry. I used to watch Creature World and read animal magazines all the time when I was a kid. I got so many animal facts packed in my brain, I could fill an entire library with ‘em.”

“Really?”

“Really. In fact, I bet I could tell you the scientific name of any animal species you give me.”

“Any species?”

“Ee-yup. Try me.”

“All right, I’ll take your bet… House cat.”

“Pfft. C’mon, that’s too easy. ‘Felis catus’. Give me a harder one.” 

“Hmm…” Bastion hums as he looks around. “Eagle.”

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

Bastion gives an intrigued look. “Okay. Bald Eagle.”

“Haliaeetus leucocephalus,” Penelope recites proudly. 

He looks at the exhibit across from him and nods. Fascinating. “King Cobra.”

“Ophiophagus hannah.”

“Weasel.”

“Mustela nivalis.”

“Panther.”

“Aha!” Penelope exclaims as she raises her finger. “Trick question. ‘Panthers’ are actually just a color variant of jaguars and leopards. Which would be Panthera onca and Panthera pardus, respectively. Unless you’re referrin’ to the Florida Panther, Puma concolor coryi, though that’s more of a cougar.”

Bastion widens his eyes. He had no frame of reference on whether all of this was accurate, but she said it with such conviction that he had to believe her. “That is extraordinarily impressive,” he praises, tipping the bottled water at her before taking a sip.

“Aw, thanks. And to think I struggled memorizin’ the periodic table... Hey, Bastie?" 

"Yes, Penelope."

"Do ya wanna know some more bat facts?"

 Bastion shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

“Guess what baby bats are called.”

“I have no idea.”

“C’mon. Guess.”

“... Batlings.” 

“Wrong. They’re called Pups. How many species of bats are there?”

“No clue.”

“Not an answer.”

“100.”

“More than 1,400. Now, how do bats recharge after a whole night of huntin’?”

Bastion glances around. “I don’t know. They sleep?” he mutters, taking one more refreshing sip.

“Nope. They change their bat-teries,” she chortles.

Water sprays straight out of Bastion’s nose and mouth, completely startling every single person nearby and almost drenching the hanging “bats” in front of him. Both his nose and throat burn as he erupts into a coughing fit.

“Oh, Biscuits! Bastion, are you okay?” Penelope worries.

Bastion continues to cough, but interestingly, as the coughing starts to dissipate, it ends up being replaced with something else. Laughter. Tons and tons of laughter. Laughter, he couldn’t dare to control or comprehend. Penelope looks at him, confused at first, but then can’t help but join in the contagion, snickering on her own. It almost felt unstoppable as the two kept cackling, getting strange glares and stares from everyone around them. 

"Wh-what is up with your laugh?" Penelope cackles. “Y-you sound like a movie villain.”

"I-I..." Bastion sputters out, not even able to finish a sentence.

The two continue until the lady managing the booth walks up to them. “Um… Are you two okay?” she asks.

“Yes,” Bastion wheezes. “My apologies. We’ll go gather our composure.”

He grabs the giggling Pomeranian and drags her to a clear space away from the crowds, the two breathing heavily as they finally start to calm down. 

“I didn't think you were gonna do that,” Penelope exhales. "It wasn’t even that funny.”

“I don't know what happened,” Bastion genuinely responds. "Caught me a bit off guard, I guess." 

“Well, I guess if our goal was bein' the loudest people here, we've definitely succeeded."

"I suppose we could have handled that more gracefully. Though... I don't think it went that bat-ly.” He winks.

Penelope snorts. “Stop! You’re gonna start me up again.” 

Bastion chuckles for a second before straightening his face.

“I do have to say, Penelope, I didn't expect you to have so much zoological knowledge.”

“Oh yeah. When I was young, I used to dream about livin’ in a zoo or jungle so that I could study animals all day.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

Penelope's smile slightly drops as she shifts around nervously. “Oh, um… Well... Ya know. I just ended up findin’ that I was passionate about Biomedical Science and decided to pursue that instead. But honestly, they’re a lot more connected than you think.”

“Really?”

“Really. A lotta the same stuff I learn ‘bout animals can actually help us learn more ‘bout ourselves. I mean, I know we like to act that we’re ‘different’ just ‘cause of how we 'evolved', but we’re a lot closer to the animal kingdom than we think,” Penelope says as she wags her tail. 

“You think?” Bastion questions as he scratches his floppy ear.

“For sure. In fact, wanna know a secret ‘bout my project?” Penelope teases, bobbing her head on the last four syllables. 

Bastion pauses for a moment, but then curiously, albeit suspiciously, leans in. As she spoke in his ear, his expression changed from puzzled to compelled, drinking in every word that she whispered.

“Fascinating,” Bastion muses as he leans out. “But how does that work?”

“Well, I can’t tell ya everythin’. Buuuut… I could give you a quick rundown of what I can,” Penelope says with a cheeky smile. 

Bastion smiles back. “That would be lovely.”

Hours pass as the two make their way through the entire museum, completely lost in conversation with each other. The discussion jumps between biology, medicine, animals, and all sorts of related topics, with some "clever" jokes sprinkled in from both sides. Bastion couldn’t help but be entranced by every word that came out of Penelope’s mouth. Captivated by every sentence as if it were the most important thing in the world. It felt as if she was singing a song she wrote just for him. A song he probably wouldn’t mind listening to forever. Eventually, the two make their way out of the building, being nearly the last guests to leave. 

“... and that’s when I said ‘I guess the nucleo-tides are changin'’,” Penelope finishes as she steps outside. “No one laughed, though.”

“Shame.” Bastion replies. “Perhaps your thymine was off.”

Penelope snorts. “Ha. That's a good one. I never realized you liked puns so much. I feel like I’m learnin’ so much ‘bout you today.”

“I always appreciate good wordplay, dear. Unlike that horrid title for the monkey exhibit.”

“Oh yeah, ‘Let’s Get Monkey’. I dunno what they were thinkin’.”

“What does that even mean? How does one ‘get monkey’? What imbecile could ever believe that was intelligent or comprehensible?”

“Yeah. Well, whoever it was shouldn’t have been..." She finger-guns. "...monkeyin’ around.”

Bastion grins. “Indeed, sweetheart. Indeed.”

They stop across the plaza, and Bastion couldn’t help but tilt his head and get a better look at the woman beside him. The warm saffron street light glows above her like a halo, highlighting her soft angelic face and luscious curls with an amber hue. But what truly hitched his breath was when she turned towards him and stared back at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. Magnificent maple brown eyes that melt into a rich golden honey, courtesy of the heavenly light above. It was a sight to behold. 

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” Penelope ponders.

“Pardon?”

“It’s just…” Penelope chuckles. “You have such a funny look on your face. What’s on your mind?”

“I-I don’t know. It’s just…” Penelope warmly gazes up at him with gentle curiosity, propelling him to reach out and cup her delicate cheek with his palm, smiling so tenderly. The words drip out of Bastion’s mouth like syrup. He could’ve easily stopped it, but it would feel wrong to. He wanted to say this. He needed to say this. “You have the most beautiful brown eyes I have ever seen.” 

Penelope pauses for a second. Her eyes glisten like gold dust as they fixate on Bastion. But what quickly follows is an unexpected burst of laughter as Penelope presses her hand against the chest of her completely confused partner.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something?” He asks.

“I-it’s just… Y-you’ve used that line already, remember?” I have?

“I have?”

“Yeah, from the first time we met. Did you already forget?” Oh right. He did… But this time…

“Right… Of course… My apologies…” he mumbles.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It's nothin' to apologize over. I actually don’t mind you usin’ the same line twice. It’s a good one.” Penelope winks. “Third time’s the charm, though.”

“Right,” Bastion somewhat absent-mindedly responds as he pulls himself out of wandering thoughts.

“Ya know what?" Penelope starts as she glances around the plaza, "I just realized somethin’.”

"Yes?"

“How are we gettin’ home?” Oh. Right.

“I could call us a cab.”

“Hm… I dunno how bein’ called a ‘cab’ would fix our problem.”

Bastion playfully rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Penelope giggles before responding, "I kinda wanna go on a walk.”

“A walk?”

“Yeah. My dorm's only a couple miles away. Plus it's a real nice night, don’t ya think?”

“Sounds grand to me, love. Lead the way”

The dogs make their way down the sidewalk. Bastion, of course, walking on the side closest to the street as any decent gentleman should. The sky is dark and practically starless, but oddly enough this allowed the city to be the star of the show as they could see, feel, and hear the heartbeat of the metropolis around them. Herds of cars flash by, their bright lights streaming across the night. The glow of windows and signs flicker on and off, like fireflies sending coded messages to each other. Despite the late hour, strangers swarm through the streets, each one carrying a story molded by every single emotion and experience they ever had, as they march right towards the next one. This was not a pretty city. This was not a thrilling city. But it is a living one. Something that even he could respect.

Over time the cars, lights, and people thin out as they made their way into a different, quieter area. Bastion is at first unsure of where they are but then notices a very familiar wall within the horizon. They must be near the G-Tech campus. He turns his head towards Penelope, who completely vanished from his side. He rapidly darts his head around only to spot her ahead looking at the wired fence surrounding what appears to be a construction site. Quaint. He sprints up to her and follows her eyeline.

“Found something, darling?” Bastion questions.

“Oh, it’s just a construction site for the new concert hall they’re buildin’,” she responds.

“I remember reading about that. How fascinating.”

“I know right. I’m real excited 'bout it. I hope I’m still here when they finish.”

“That would be nice.”

The two continue to blankly stare at the site for a couple of seconds, but eventually, Bastion pulls away and makes his way down the path. However, he is quickly stopped by the sound of metal rattling behind him. He swiftly turns around only to see Penelope attempting to climb the fence.

“Wha-What are you doing?” Bastion asks, perplexed.

“Sneakin’ in,” she answers, continuing to climb the fence.

“What. Why?” 

“'Cause I wanna get a closer look.”

Bastion hastily scouts around. “Sweetheart, are you sure that is safe?”

“It is if you pay attention. Don’t worry. I used to do this all the time,” she exclaims, finally hopping over to the other side of the fence. 

“But dear, aren’t you afraid of getting in trouble?”

“I won't. Unless…” Penelope turns around with a mischievous look. “...ya squeal on me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Are you a narc, Bastie?” she teases. “Ya gonna call the popo on me? Gonna run away and get the feds?” 

“No. I just-”

"Do it! I'm not scared."

"Penelope, I-"

“Listen, Bastion. If you’re too scared of rule-breakin’, that’s fine. That’s fine. But unlike you, I don’t play by the rules. I follow the beat of my own drum. And if you don’t like that, well, I dunno what to tell ya.” Penelope crosses her arms and poses. “Guess I’m just too cool for ya… Though, seriously, if you don’t want me to do this, I can come back. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Hmph…” Bastion grumbles, honestly never expecting that HE, out of anyone, would be chastised for being “scared” of breaking the rules. If only she knew. Guess he’ll have to show her.

Bastion walks back a couple of paces, puzzling the other canine as she closely watches. But then he runs straight towards the fence, touching it only once as he leaps over with such grace and elegance, it was as if he was performing for the Olympics. The Pomeranian watches in complete awe as her jaw drops to the ground.

“Shall we?” Bastion prompts, holding out his hand.

“U-uh… Okay.” Penelope stutters, still awe-struck.

She grabs onto his arm, and they make their way through the unfinished construction site. At first, Bastion was confused about why she thought this was worth checking out. From his perspective, there is truly nothing to see. But watching her enthusiastically, though carefully explore every single inch of the location, he couldn’t help but end up finding the site intriguing too. Interesting how that works.

“Ya know what’s funny?” Penelope says as she peers over the foundation. “We may be the first couple to have a date at this concert hall.” 

Bastion nods. “An astute observation. Shame the presentation is lackluster. The decor is rather sparse and not really romantic. You think they could at least have gotten that right.”

“I know, right?” Penelope snickers. “It’s like it’s unfinished or somethin’.”

“Not an excuse.”

“Yeah, I do kinda wish there was music playin’ though. I'm in the mood to dance.” She jokingly smacks her head. “Should’ve brought my stereo.”

“You’ll have to remember to bring it the next time we plan to go trespassing.”

“Yeah, next time.” However, just as she says that, a chipper little tune, a theme song to a show Bastion couldn't place, erupts from her pocket.

“Well, there’s our music.” Bastion comments. 

“Nah, it’s just Gita callin’," Penelope responds. "Probably wanna know how the day went. Be right back, hon.”

“Of course, love. Take your time.”

She wanders off, holding the flip phone with hundreds of charms up to her ear. She gives one last glance before disappearing behind a pile of bricks. Bastion couldn’t help but watch her as she left. He couldn’t look away. The way her curls bounce across her shoulders, swaying as if they were dancing. There was such a liveliness to the way she moved. It seems so intentional, but also effortless. What's the word he used before? Peculiar? Well, she is that. But rather endearing as well.

A loud screech hits his ears, drawing his attention immediately to the source. Through the chain link fence, he notices a bus further down the street. Didn’t realize they ran this late. At first, he was confused about why the bus was opening its doors as there didn’t seem to be any onboarding passengers. But then he saw that there was indeed someone walking up towards the bus. Bastion dashes forward, pressing his face against the galvanized steel chain fence, attempting to get a better look. Luckily for him, the passenger paused on the way, seemingly taking a phone call, right in the streetlight. This gave him ample opportunity to suss the stranger out and maybe even read his lips. He sharpens his focus onto the mystery figure, noting that they seem to be some type of avian with red feathers, a white coat, and… No. It can't be.

“Yes. Yes. I’m on my way.” Professor Macopé appears to speak into the phone. “I know we have many important items to discuss.” 

That's him. That's really him. This is incredible. This is fantastic. This is literally a golden opportunity gift-wrapped for him with a bright white and red bow. That painfully pompous parrot professor prick is finally his, and after hours nonetheless. The Phantom Blot's mouth warps into a horrifically violent sneer as he clutches tightly onto the wired fence. How divine. Where this man goes after work. The location of the Blotonium research. The "important" people he's talking to. It is all within grasp. He's so close to completing his mission. He's so close to getting out of here.

Wait.

But what about… Bastion lets go of the fence and turns back towards Penelope, who is facing away, still on her phone. Should he tell her something? No, she’s distracted. This is your chance. But what if she tries to look for him? That’s none of your concern. Go! But how is he going to explain this to her? You can figure out something later. 

“Get on the bus already!” The Blot is thrown out of his thoughts, immediately returning focus back towards the bus stop. “I ain’t got all day!” finishes the bus driver. 

This also seems to alert the macaw, as he hangs and starts boarding the bus. Drat. Drat. What are you waiting for? Follow him. Now! Right. With precision, he jabs his fingers into the holes of the fence, thrusts his body upwards with his full upper body strength, hangs over the top, and then… and then… and then…

The bus departs, disappearing down the deep, dark roads. 

Leaving him behind, fence in hand.

What the devil just happened? He drops to the ground. What am I doing here? He backs away from the fence. Why didn’t I leave? He grips his face. Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no… Something is wrong. Something is really wrong. The Phantom Blot would never pass up a chance like that. He would never forgo his mission. That’s the whole reason why he is here. That’s what he’s been working on for an entire month. That’s his biggest priority at the moment. And yet he just let the bus go. Why did he let it go?

Faster and faster he starts to pant, graduating fully into hyperventilation. Further and further he started to spiral, questioning everything that happened. Everything that is happening. And everything that will happen. Maybe he could still make the bus. It’s completely out of sight. Perhaps the meeting wasn’t important. If it wasn’t important why would he call it important? He could still catch him later, he now knows he uses this bus stop. You don’t know that. It's fine. This mission is just going to take a little bit longer. Longer? Why longer? Why do you want to be here longer?

Feeling his body start to perspire, he flips out the final emergency cigarette and stuffs it in his mouth. Repeatedly rotating the spark wheel, never letting the flame stay lit for long. Why is everything going wrong? These weird, uncharacteristic decisions. These odd mood shifts. His flailing career. Something is ruining everything that he has planned. Something is ruining everything has trained for. Something is ruining everything that he has become. But as much as he attempts to push it back, he knows what the answer is. He’s more than aware of who is the cause of all this trouble. He said it before. He said it multiple times. And each time, he may ignore it and move on. But it will never change the fact that this is all because of...

Her.

Idiot! Idiot! IDIOT!!! How did he not notice this happening? This was NOT supposed to happen. How could HE let himself get manipulated by HER? HE is the ultimate criminal mastermind. HE is the master thief taking the world by storm. HE is the Phantom Blot. And yet for some utterly doltish reason, she's been able to parade him around like some type of doll. Stupid! Stupid! STUPID!!! In the past five years or so of being the Phantom Blot, this has never happened to him before. In his entire life,  this has never happened to him before.

And yet she manages to so easily control him like it was nothing. Destroying years of expertise in acting and manipulation with the flick of a wrist. She peeled away his "Bastion Blotswell" character, as if it was a banana, leaving him vulnerable and exposed. She knew exactly how to tempt and enchant him with food and wordplay. She even duped him into thinking he was genuinely enjoying her company... and her. It doesn’t make sense. How is she able to outwit him like this? Why does all common sense seem to disappear around her? How come he allows it to happen again and again? Why does he feel all these perplexing sensations around her? He’s like some sort of lovesick pup-

…

…

Oh no.

Is this what that feels like?

“Hey Bastie,” Penelope calls out. “Bastie!”

The little pomeranian surveys the area, desperately trying to find where her sweetheart might’ve gone. Part of her worries that something bad might’ve happened, but that quickly dissipates as she spots him at the far end of the site. Not sure what he’s doing there, but glad to have found him, Penelope silently sneaks up to the male Canis lupus sapiens and then wraps her arms around his waist.

“I'm back!” she cheers. 

... He doesn’t respond. 

Confused, Penelope looks up at her boyfriend’s face only to find a grim expression barely drowned out by the smoke of a cigarette. Her eyes widen as she lowers her ears. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize you… Um… Are you okay?” 

…

“Do you wanna talk ‘bout it?”

…

Penelope lets go of his waist and moves to his side, still looking up at him with worry. “Bastion?”

... No response.

She slips her hand into his and massages his hand with her thumb. At first, the hand jolts upwards as if it is going to be pulled away, but instead, it stays. The owner exhales smoke through his mouth and nose. Penelope focuses his face, hoping to make even the slightest bit of contact. And for a split second, she does, only for him to jerk away for a reason neither he nor she could understand. She didn’t feel hurt though, only concern. 

For what felt like forever, the two just quietly stood there. The only sound heard is the beating of their hearts. Hand in hand, they allow the moment and everything to just wash over them and hopefully away. Penelope ponders for a moment, but eventually her eyes light up as a bright smile beams on her face.

“I think I may have somethin’ that could help. Do you wanna try it?”

Bastion takes a long drag of his cigarette. For a moment, it seems like he isn't going to ever respond, but then she notices the ever-so-slight tilt of his head toward her. Something that seems minuscule, but spoke volumes.

“What’s your favorite color?” she starts.

...

"Black.”

Penelope sighs in relief, as a small smile graces her face. "What 'bout... your favorite drink?"

Another moment of silence passes.

"... Coffee."

“Ooo! Coffee is always great!" Penelope praises. "I bet I can guess how you like it... Oh! How ‘bout your favorite animal?”

Bastion shrugs. “... Cats, I guess.”

Her smile grows even more. “Cats, huh? Can’t go wrong with cats. They’re a purr-fect pick. One could even say they’re claw-some.” 

He shakes his head, though she could swear she saw him grinning.

“Okay, how ‘bout… Oh yeah! What’s your favorite flower?”

“I do quite like roses,” he ruminates, tossing down the cigarette from his mouth and putting it out with his shoe.

“Oooo… Roses. Did you know that their botanical name is Rosa rubiginosa?”

He raises his eyebrow. 

“Yup, that’s right baby. I also know the botanical names of plants too. Though not as much as I know scientific names for animals.”

Bastion fully shifts his top half towards her, staring at her completely baffled.

Penelope cheekily shrugs. “Next question. What’s your favorite thing to read?”

“I am rather fond of Shakespeare. ‘The Tragedy of Macbeth’ is a personal favorite of mine.”

“Good answer. Good answer. Now, how about your favorite type of music?”

He pauses for a second. “I enjoy Classical music.”

“Okay… Really?” Penelope questions with a skeptical look.

“What?” Bastion responds, sincerely confused. 

“Are you takin’ this seriously?” 

“Of course, I am. I am not sure why you would think otherwise.”

“I mean, your favorite flowers are roses, your favorite thing to read is Shakespeare, and your favorite type of music is classical. What’s with all these cliché romantic answers? What, do you also like ‘long walks on the beach’?”

Bastion gawks at her. “Are you making fun of my personal tastes?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

“Isn’t the whole point of this exercise to help me feel better and get my mind off things? This isn't helping me feel better.”

“Well then stop givin’ me cliché responses.”

“They are not cliché. I do actually like those things. But since you want ‘new’ answers so badly, here.” He raises a finger. “I’m also a fan of jazz and opera.” He raises a second. “Niightshade is also one of my favorite flowers.” He raises a third. “And three…” He pauses, almost embarrassed to say the next thing as it instead devolves into a mumble.

“Huh?” Penelope replies. “I can’t hear you.”

He looks away.

"Say it," she prods.

He sighs. “... I also like ‘The Chirikawa Chronicles’.”

Penelope gasps. “You’re a fan of ‘The Chirikawa Chronicles’?”

“Yes.”

“OMG! Those are like my favorite mystery novels ever?” she squeals. “Are you excited for the new one to come out?”

“Certainly. I already have it pre-ordered.”

“Me too!”

“Wonderful."

"Nice!"

They blankly stare at each other... and then break down into snickers.

“Did this help?” Penelope questions.

“Somewhat,” Bastion responds with a cheeky grin.

“Good. I’m glad.”

Bastion nods

“Um..." Penelope hums, breaking the very short silence.

"Yes?" he inquires.

"Well... Ya don’t have to tell me if ya don’t wanna, but... what was goin’ on? earlier, I mean.”

Bastion's face straightens, but not harshly. “Nothing you need to worry about, dear.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Well… Whatever it is, I’m just happy you’re feeling better. I really wanna thank you for goin’ on this date with me. I know it was a bit different than our other ones, but I had a good time. I felt like I really got to know you.”

“Likewise.”

“Honestly, I don't think I've ever told you how special you make me feel. Every time I'm with you, I just feel like I'm the belle of the ball. The most important person in the world. I don't know where I would be right now if I never met you.”

Bastion narrows his eyes, picking up on the somberness of the last sentence. “What do you mean?”

“Oh. Well… I mean… I dunno."

"Please," Bastion delicately probes, “I want to know.”

"It's just that... Before I met you... I dunno, I kinda feel like things weren't goin' great."

"Because of your canceled project?"

"Well, yeah... but also more than that. I really love Biomedical Science and I am so happy to be workin' in this field. But I can't help but feel like I have a hard time... connectin'... with the other researchers. I know I can be a bit off-puttin' and annoyin' at times. I've tried to tone myself down so that I could fit in a bit more, but I still feel like I don't really belong there. I kinda feel like everyone sort of just tolerates me."

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, apparently I can be a bit of a doormat and people-pleaser, at least that's what Gita tells me. But even I notice that I'm not really treated the same way my peers are. I don't want to complain, but I kinda feel like I do so much and even pick up a lot of extra work, and yet I'm not gettin' the same opportunities or mentorship the others get. Maybe I'm doin' somethin' wrong or missin' out on somethin'. But I sorta feel... used."

"I see," Bastion says, shifting his eyes. "How did you get your project?"

"Blood, sweat, tears, and sleepless nights." Penelope answers, discordantly chipper. "It took forever and a lot of 'compromises' to finally convince Macopé to let me work on my own project, but I did. And for the first time since I joined this graduate program, I felt like I finally had an opportunity to prove myself. I felt like I finally had a chance to show that I belonged. And it couldn't have come at a better time. Gita was tranferrin' to a school up north for a new graduate program that is just what she's been lookin' for. I'm real excited for her, but I admit, I was kinda scared 'bout how I was gonna be with her gone. She was a lifesaver during the... tougher moments."

“Don’t you still have that other friend?”

“Other friend? Oh, you mean Peter. I mean... Well... We get along and joke ‘round and stuff. But he’s more of Gita’s friend than mine. Plus he’s not really helpful when it comes to… emotional support. Gita, on the other hand, has supported me ever since I stepped on the campus. She can be a bit overprotective, but she was always there for me. I could always count on her to advocate for me. But her going to another school was like taking my training wheels off. Though I thought I would still be fine since I at least had my project... But then it fell through.

"I tried to stay positive and I fought to save it, but honestly, things were really feelin' bleak. Gita was gonna be gone soon and now I had nothin' to give me hope that I was gettin' somewhere. I started to wonder that if something I spent so much effort on could be so easily taken away, what was the point of even tryin'? I felt like I was doomed to never go anywhere. I thought everything was doomed. But then a miracle happened...” Penelope fondly gazes at Bastion. “I met you. And I felt like I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. You helped me save my project. You've taken me on some of the most fun dates I've ever been on. You spoil me with the most beautiful gifts I've ever seen. I feel like a star around you. But I guess even with that, my nerves still ended up gettin’ the best of me.”

“How so?”

“Well, I dunno… I mean… I guess I got kinda… If I could be honest...” She takes a big breath. “.... I was kinda scared you were gonna leave me."

Bastion’s face narrows. “Oh.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry. That sounds bad. But, I guess I kinda felt like our relationship was a bit too good to be true, ya know. Plus there was also the… you know at the... I dunno. I guess I just got worried." She sighs. "But honestly, after tonight, I don’t feel like that anymore. If anythin', I feel like we got a little closer.”

“Is that why you wanted to take charge tonight?”

“Yeah. Kinda. I dunno. I was honestly in panic mode."

Bastion peers at her for a second. Honestly, not sure how to respond or if he should even respond to the validity or success of her quest.

"In retrospect, I probably should've taken you to more 'romantic' locations. But I think this one actually turned out pretty well."

“Quite." Bastion nods. "Penelope, dear?"

"Yes, Bastion?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Frankly, I asked this before, but I have a feeling that there might be more to the answer." He clears his throat. "Why are you studying Biomedical Science?"

"Um... Well..."

"I mean, if you truly feel like you don’t belong or are not respected, why are you wasting your time there?”

“Well… I gotta.”

“Do you? I mean, you seem proficient in other areas such as zoology. I’m aware of the sunk cost, but there are other options. You shouldn’t force yourself to do something you don't want to. You shouldn't force yourself into a life of misery.”

“Well… There’s actually a bit more to it.”

“Such as…”

“My dad.” 

The word causes a shiver to go up Bastion’s spine. “Your father?”

“Yeah. I know I don’t really talk ‘bout him much, but...” Penelope slumps, crossing her arms. “I dunno. It’s just hard to talk ‘bout.” 

Bastion hesitates for a second before gingerly asking, “What was he like?”

Penelope sighs wistfully. “The best.” She glances up towards the starless night as the memories flood through her. “Every Sunday we would go to the library and check out three books each. We would then have a contest based on whoever could finish all their books before the end of the week. I think I had the most wins, but we were still pretty close. Whenever he came home from work, he would rush to help with my homework and then watch cartoons or anime with me for the rest of the day. He even taught me how to drive years before I got my permit. We used to cruise all ‘round the neighborhood, wavin’ to everybody like it was a tiny parade. Oh, and there's no forgettin' about the fact that he had the worst dad jokes in history. I swear I heard at least 50 a day. I blame him for my terrible sense of humor."

"... Sounds like a great father." 

“The greatest there ever was. But he wasn’t just a good dad, he was also an awesome person in general. He worked as a pediatric surgeon at a children’s hospital and saved so, so many lives there. And then on top of that, he co-owned a charity to support families in impoverished communities. He was just so kind, and loving, and smart, and brave. Every single person he came across was always changed for the better.

"That is... commendable." Bastion comments. "Good men are few and far between. Fathers even less so.”

“Yeah,” Penelope reminisces. "There was really no one like him. He was probably the closest thing you could get to an angel on earth... And maybe that's why he couldn't stay."

Penelope attempts to maintain a straight face, but the facade falls quickly as tears form at the corner of her eyes, catching Bastion off guard, as he suddenly realizes the unfamiliar position he was put in. He freezes, part of him wanting to find a way to force the conversation away to something less uncomfortable, but he decides against it. He had to know.

“We still don’t know what it was." Penelope continues, Though, in retrospect, I think it was some form of cancer. Possibly a soft tissue sarcoma. He went through so many appointments and treatments, that we ended up spendin' more time at the hospital than at home. But it seems like no matter what the doctors tried, nothin' seemed to work. He only got sicker and sicker. And just when it couldn't get any worse, our insurance dropped us and we had to handle the risin' costs ourselves.”

"Well, that shouldn't have been a problem for your family. If your father was a pediatric surgeon, he should have been paid very well.”

“I mean, he was paid well, but to be honest my dad donated a lot of his salary to his charity, so we never really had a ton of money lyin’ around. We still lived comfortably though and I’m glad he donated so much… but that wasn’t the main problem. One day my mom got a call from what she thought was the hospital saying that she needed to cover a bill. My mom shared everythin' they asked for, but the next day she learned that the person she was talkin' to wasn't from the hospital and that she got...”

“... scammed.” Bastion completes.

Penelope mournfully nods, tears lining her cheeks. “We almost lost everything and at that point, we definitely couldn’t afford any more treatments. My mom and I didn’t wanna give up, but my dad begged us to. He said that it would be okay. He said that he wanted the remainin' money to go to supportin' us. He said that he loved us. And then after one more week, he said goodbye." Penelope tightly crosses her arms "That was the hardest thing that I ever had to go through. I felt so helpless and powerless. I felt like I failed him."

"But what more could you have done?"

"Well... Back when he was still around, I would go to the library and check out as many scientific journals as I could. I thought that maybe if I read enough, I would somehow come across a cure for him. That I could still save him. Unfortunately, that never happened. But even after he passed, I still found myself readin’ through the articles. I dunno if it was 'cause I didn't know what else to do or somethin' like that, but eventually, I got really into the science and found that I enjoyed learnin’ about biology just as I did ‘bout animals. And that’s when it hit me.

I realized that if I became a biomedical scientist, I could make it so that no one would have to go through what my family did. I know that's what he would've wanted. So, I worked my butt off to get accepted into the college with the best BioMed program in the States, worked even harder to get accepted into the grad program, and worked my hardest to get my own project. But if I stop now I am just throwing all that hard work away. I'm just throwing my dad's legacy away. That's why I have to stay in the program. No matter how hard it gets. I have to do it for him. I have to do it for my mom. I have to do it for every single kid who will have to go through exactly what I did. I have to do it for... me.”

Bastion was at a loss of words. Normally, he would find such speeches trite but this one struck him right at his core unlike anything ever has. Never has he ever cared so deeply about someone else’s goals. Never has somebody else’s passions and hopes so deeply bled into him. Never has another person's dreams stoked widely within his own heart. He didn't care at all that this would not personally benefit him. Any triumph she gains would be his as well. He felt the desire to want this to happen. He felt the desire to support her. He felt the desire to believe in her. He felt the desire to know that she would succeed. And he did.

Penelope wipes away her tears with her gloves. “Sorry for goin’ into all that. I didn’t expect to drop my tragic backstory on you. I really shouldn't be doin' this on dates.”

Bastion strides to her, gently cupping her face with the palm of his hand. “No need to apologize, dearest." He dries her tears with his thumb. "No need to apologize at all."

The enamored pair hold each other in breathless passion, Penelope leaning deeply into his palm. Bastion's hand trails from Penelope's cheek to her hips as the other meets her hand for a gentle caress. Vividly, did they gaze into each other. Not using their eyes, but instead relying on their captivated souls. Every single emotion that has been building throughout the day, settles and coalesces into something new that was beyond comprehension. Was it connection? Was it understanding? Was it love? They don’t know. But they’re okay with that. It was something spoken word would fail. He gracefully lifts her hand.

“Games, changes and fears…” Bastion croons in a honeyed timbre, “When will they go from here? When will they…”

He deftly tilts her. “Stop?”  

Penelope giggles, wrapped in his arms. "Since when could you sing?" she remarks, bewildered but enraptured.

"For you, my beloved, I can do anything." He winks, delicately lifting her.

"I believe that faaate~ has brought us here." he continues. "And we should be together, babe… " He swings her from the fence. "But we're not.” 

Smitten, she joins in. “I play it off, but I'm dreaming of you~” They glide across the concrete. “And I'll keep my cool, but I'm fiendin~” He pulls her closer.

I try to say goodbye and I choke.” They twirl.

“Try to walk away and I stum-ble.”  He switches hands and releases her.

“Though I try to hide it,” She spins. “...it's clear.” She's pulled in.

“My world crumbles when you are not near~” He pecks her cheek.

“Goodbye and I choke.”

And they dance.

“I try to walk away and I stum-ble.”

And they sing.

“Though I try to hide it,"

And they dance.

" ...it's clear.”

And they sing.

“My world crumbles when you are not near.”

In time, the serenades become a whisper. The cavorting into tightly held sways. It is truly unclear how long the night lasts. But what is time to a lover's embrace?

A cab cruises through the empty midnight streets, its yellow paint shining as it passes under each streetlight. The vehicle jolts upwards as it runs over a discarded hubcap, but continues down its path undisturbed. Inside, a sleeping Pomeranian in the backseat bumps upwards as the automobile does, but doesn’t seem to wake. Instead, curling deeper into her boyfriend’s chest as he tenderly strokes her arm.

...

He supposes he could stay for a little bit longer.

Chapter Text

She was in a yellow sundress. 

A bright yellow sundress with two rows of shimmering gold lace around the hem. When she spun, her dress glittered like the sands on the beach. As she splashed, the sparkling waves kissed her sun-touched cheeks arousing a giggle and an equally lustrous smile almost too blinding to behold.

He was in a black button-up shirt. 

A black button-up shirt and matching swim trunks, both brimming with a meadow of purple, orange, and yellow splotches. As he sat within the shade of the parasol, he tenderly watched his muse. Gripping his sketchbook tightly as he eagerly captured her every detail with each precise pen stroke.

She was euphoric. 

He was focused.

She was dazzling. 

He was enchanted.

They were lovers.

And everything was perfect. 

“Aaaaaaaaaa! He’s just SO CUTE!!!” Penelope squeals. Her 3C curls bounce all over her shoulders as she ecstatically swings the giant stuffed platypus in her arms while strolling down the pier. “Ain’t he just the sweetest thing, Bastie?”

Bastion tilts his head as if evaluating the odd creature in her arms. “Hmm… I suppose I could see how you find it cute Pen,” He gently lifts her chin with his finger. “But then again how could anything even compare to you.”

“Oh you~” Penelope playfully swoons, deeply blushing as she snuggles into the teal doll. “You can be such a dork, ya know that. But seriously, I still can’t believe you won. I always thought those boardwalk games were rigged.” 

“Perhaps for the average person…” Bastion responds with a coy smirk. “But I assure you I am anything but average.”

“You showed me... and the carny. His eyes were practically the size of dinner plates when you made that last shot. By the way, How'd ya even pull that off? I ain’t seen anythin’ like it.”

“It was nothing, truly.” 

“Whaddya mean nothin’? That was for sure somethin’. I feel like you’re constantly surprisin’ me with everythin’ you can do. What else ya hidin'?”

A chuckle rumbles within Bastion’s throat. “No need to flatter me, dearest. After all…” He leans into the shorter pup’s ear. “I’m not the one with the very successful research project.” 

“O-oh! Well! Gosh.” Penelope flusters as she hides her face in the neck of the plush. “I mean… I’m not really done yet. There’s still so much I gotta do. Macopé still has to review it, and then it still needs to be peer-reviewed, and then of course published, and... Oh! Can’t forget the multiple repeat experiments.”

“But either way still a scientific breakthrough,” Bastion proudly remarks as he leans away. “I do not ever say this lightly, but you might’ve changed the world of biology and medicine forever.” 

A large grin grows on Penelope’s face as she continues to bury further into the Platypus. “I know right?” she chirps. “I still can’t believe it. Never in a million years would I ever think I would get results like that. Even Professor Macopé seems real impressed. I overheard him sayin’ that this might be the star project at the showcase.”

“As it should be. I’d expect nothing less.” 

“Aw. Thanks. Though honestly, at this moment, I’m still strugglin’ with the idea that I’m finally done with all the testin’. I almost had to start payin’ the lab rent with how long I was in there,” giggles Penelope, before landing into a sigh. “I just hope my final paper is good enough. I mean once it’s in Macopé’s hands, there’s a real chance it could be released for the whole world to see. What if I misspelled somethin’? Or what if I used the wrong jargon and end up looking like a complete idiot.”

“Trust me, dear. You will be-”

“I still don’t think my summary’s compelling enough. And I oughta redo my conclusion. And maybe transpose the columns and rows in Table 2. And I’m havin' second thoughts ‘bout the chart I used for Figure 4… ”

“Penelope, I can assure yo-”

“Maybe we oughta head home right now. Macopé’s gonna want it soon and I need it to be-”

Bastion gently cups her cheeks, stealing away her attention as his enraptured blue eyes poured deeply into her bewildered brown ones. 

“I wear my heart upon my sleeve when I say that you, the source of my beating heart, are perfect. Your paper is flawless. Everyone worth their salt will love it. And if there is anyone throughout all of history more deserving to be a biomedical scientist, it’s you my precious Pen.” 

He stealthily closes the gap between them, swiftly removing the large plush in one hand and grabbing her waist with the other. He pulls her closer into a firm embrace and plants his soft warm lips onto hers, causing her cheeks to flush red hot as she nearly melts in his grasp. After what felt like a lifetime, he leans back revealing an expression she couldn’t quite read or more likely was too in shock to read. How on earth was she still solid?

"Penelope?"

"Yes, Bastion?"

“Can you promise me something?” Bastion whispers.

“Uh... Sure?”

“Truth is you’re brilliant, and I know you are primed for a future of unimaginable success. But tragically, there’s always going to be some misfortune or insipid fool too incompetent to comprehend your true worth. That’s just how things are. So I need you to promise me that no matter what happens, no matter who hurts you, you will never ever give up. You must keep fighting for what you are owed and know that you deserve the best. You deserve the World

...Can you promise me that, Pen?”

"Um..." Penelope pauses. Completely at a loss on how to respond or even how to feel. What brought on this oddly heavy request? This feels like this came out of nowhere. Did she miss something? Eventually, she returns a small nod and mutters a soft, “Yeah. I promise.” Clearly feeling the passion behind his words.

Bastion grins. “Wonderful.”

He bends down to retrieve the dropped plush, only for his face to sour as something catches his eye.

“Darling, has this always been here?” Bastion remarks as he delicately lifts the bottom of her dress. He thumbs what appears to be a moderately sized hole just barely above the hemline.

“Oh no!" Penelope cries. "When’d that happen?”

“If I had to guess, it probably got caught on a nail from this poor excuse of a pier.” Bastion shook his head. “They will certainly be getting a call from me about this.”

“I didn’t even notice…” the small Pomeranian whimpers as she nearly slumps to the ground. “And this is my favorite sundress…”

But before the pooch can fall to the ground, she is swiftly swept up and placed onto the nearby bench. As Penelope still processes the new location, Bastion pulls out a black case from his pocket and flips it open, taking out what seems to be a small needle and a spool of purple thread.

“Do you want a flower or a fish?” He asks, deftly inserting the thread through the needle’s eye.

“Huh?” Penelope spouts, still completely confused.

“Would you like a flower or a fish, dear?” 

“Oh… Um… A fish?” 

“Brilliant choice,” Bastion responds with a wink.

The canine prudently sticks the needle into her dress, masterly guiding it through the thin fabric with such precision and care it was as if he had done this hundreds of times before. All Penelope could do was watch in awe and wonder… Who on earth is this man?

She thought she knew who Bastion was, but if these past moments, heck past months meant anything, she didn’t know him at all. Ever since that date, the one she led that ended at the construction site, it was like a switch was flipped and Bastion completely changed. What happened? Did she miss something? I mean he was nice before. Practically the perfect love interest in every single romance novel that she read. But now he feels different. He feels more like… a person. 

But she’s not complaining.

If anything, it was like she was handed a puzzle and every day she gets a new piece to unravel the true mystery that is Bastion Blotswell. He loves puns and wordplay, including the really bad and cheesy ones. He loves to read books and play games but is also very competitive and a bit of a sore loser. Every once in a while he’ll just randomly quote some play or song she’s never heard of. And other times he’ll just say something so out of pocket that she can’t help but fall over laughing. 

There's also the fact that he's a bit of a perfectionist, but somehow also a complete wiz when it comes to cooking, gardening, art, cars, computers, and… actually, what is he even bad at? It feels like every single time she thinks she finally has a handle on what his skills are, he just completely shatters her expectations with a brand new one out of nowhere. How long has he had that needle and thread? Since when could he sew? 

But even beyond just who he is, she feels more closer to him than ever before. He just feels so much more attentive lately. Every smile is filled with warmth. Every touch is brimming with affection. Every now and then, he’ll randomly grab her by the hand and swing her into a doting waltz. And then he’ll pull her closely into his chest and whisper the sweetest nothings into her ear. And when he sings... Good Heavens when he sings… She swears that the entire world falls into a hushed silence, desperate to catch even the slightest hint of his golden pipes.

All of this would’ve been more than enough for an interesting boyfriend, but she’s barely even touched the endless stream of seemingly expensive gifts. Whether it is high-end jewelry, clothes, sweets, a brand-new car, or a first-class trip to the other side of the country with a full-week stay at a 5-star resort, it seems like he is constantly spoiling her every chance he gets. It feels weird to gripe about this. She knows that many girls would kill to be in this position. But she can’t help but wonder sometimes how much he is making as a graphic designer. She’s felt the urge to ask before, but can’t seem to get the final push to do it. It just feels wrong, after everything he’s done for her. 

She'll just add it to the pile of all other unanswered questions. But she can't seem to ignore the feeling that something may be… Penelope’s mind unwittingly flickers to when they first arrived at their hotel. She went to check them in while Bastion handled the Valet, only to be met with a somewhat dismissive receptionist. She initially shook it off, not really wanting to cause any trouble. But what she didn’t expect was Bastion to almost appear out of nowhere and whisper something in the receptionist’s ear. Penelope could still remember how quickly her face flushed as white as a ghost, before quickly changing into a much more “friendly” demeanor.

Penelope instinctively grabs a piece of her hair. She can’t stop thinking about what he might’ve said. What words could even cause a “change” like that? She knows Bastion could be a bit brash and protective at times, but he also could be so sweet and loving. She also remembers how immediately after Bastion turned towards her and gazed at her with utmost adoration. Even now he gave her a very heartfelt speech and called her brilliant. But even that felt a bit... Penelope returns her gaze to her boyfriend kneeling in front of her and examines him. Just who is this-

“And there we go,” Bastion comments as he snips the hanging thread. “What do you think?”

Penelope looks down, her heart immediately softening at the sight of a small purple fish sewn into her dress.

“Awww… Bastie," she squees. "It’s adorable.”

Penelope rises from the bench and gives an excited twirl, only for Bastion to quickly catch her arm and pull her in mid-twirl, wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m glad you love it,” he responds, kissing her on the cheek.

“How’d ya even learn to do somethin’ like this?”

He playfully looks around. “Oh, I picked it up from here and there. Nothing too extraordinary.”

"Well, it's wonderful.. or you could say fin-tastic."

Bastion smiles. "I'd say it is certainly scaled to perfection..." He releases her in a spin, holding her hand tightly so doesn’t completely twirl away. "Just like you."

Bastion hands her the giant stuffed platypus to her and motions toward the rest of the pier. “Shall we?” he inquires.

Penelope glances at him, completely mesmerized. “We shall.”

Hand in hand, the two continued their stroll. The salty winds brushed over them as if graciously blowing their worries straight out into the ocean, giving them the space to truly enjoy this moment together. Penelope could’ve sworn she spotted Bastion sneaking some looks at her, but it was only because she was doing the same thing. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop smiling. It felt impossible to contain all these feelings inside of her. How did she ever get this far? 

It isn’t long before fiery flames of orange and purple nearly overtake the sunny blue sky, signaling the arrival of night. However, there were already other signs with the vanishing calls of seabirds and tourists, allowing the wooden planks creaking beneath their feet to take center stage. But this didn’t bother the pair at all. They continued to purview the boardwalk without a care in the world, except for each other.

“Hey! You!” shouts a voice. 

Bastion and Penelope immediately turn their heads to see an elderly turtle in a Hawaiian t-shirt waving them down. Penelope instinctively pointed at herself. 

“Yeah! You! Cute Couple! Get over here!”

The two warily look at each other, before tentatively walking up to the other man. 

“I just wanted to say that in all my years here at the Santa Beech Pier, I’ve never seen a pair of lovers as cute as you two.” The turtle clasps his head over his chest. “It just warms my little old heart.”

“Aww… Thanks.” Penelope replies.

“It’s my pleasure. You know, I used to come here all the time with my little lady. We always love strolling down this pier and creating so many beautiful memories. I can tell you that moments like this will be something that you are going to treas-”

“What are you selling?” Bastion interjects. Penelope shoots a confused look at him, before returning to the old man.

“O-oh… W-well… I…” The turtle coughs. “I just thought you and the pretty lady may want a keepsake of this magical moment.” He gestures to a modest-looking camera on a tripod next to a box full of props and a variety of wooden cutout boards and backdrops. “For only 50 dollars you can capture the wonder of-”

“That won’t be-,” was all Penelope could hear as she dashed straight to the cutout boards.

“Ooooo Bastie! Look!!!” She shouts. “There’s one that looks like you’re underwater. Oh! And here’s a classic. Man in an old-timey swimsuit and pretty mermaid cutout.” She flipped herself around, excited to see his reaction to the presented board, only for her face to drop as she caught sight of his. Biscuits. She forgot about that.

“Ah yes, the old-timey swimsuit and mermaid,” boasts the elderly turtle. “A crowd pleaser for sure. Is that what we’re picking today?”

“Actually...” Penelope twists part of her hair between her fingers. “We won’t be able to take a picture. I’m sorry.”

“What? Why? Are you afraid about it getting dark? I assure you that we still have plenty of light left. I even have a portable lamp.”

“No. It’s not that.”

“You know what since you two are so charming, how about you get an extra 10 percent off?”

“Well…”

“20?”

“Ya see…”

“25? 30?”

“That’s not…”

“Woo, putting me through the wringer. How about...”

“Ahem.” Bastion coughs, loud enough to get both of their attention. 

Penelope looks towards Bastion before returning to the photographer with a gentle smile. “I’m sure the picture would’ve been great. It’s just that… Bastion is a bit camera-shy and doesn’t really like photos. I wish you luck though.”

The turtle stood there, mouth agape as the pomeranian briskly jogged back to her boyfriend's side. “You know, I’ve taken many pictures of camera-shy people. It’s no big deal. Why you won’t even know the camera’s there.” 

Penelope reaches Bastion’s side. "Sorry," she yells back.

“How about I throw in two photos for 20 bucks and I’ll throw in a free frame.” The turtle frantically yells at them. “Come on, I almost have enough to pay my rent this month.” 

The two seem to ignore him, but Penelope can't help but turn her head back towards the man, with a slight frown on her face. Part of it was guilt, but the other part was thinking about how a photo of them here would’ve been so cute. She has to admit that she’s a bit of a keepsake girl who loves getting as many mementos as she can get. And this would’ve been a perfect way to remember this incredible night. But she needs to respect her boyfriend's boundaries. And if he doesn’t like photos, then they won’t get a photo. No matter how endearing it would look in a scrapbook

“Is something wrong, my dearest?” Bastion asks, shifting her attention to him.

“Oh, no. I’m fine.” Penelope responds, doing her best to hide any disappointment. “Let’s just go.”

Bastion turns his head back towards the photo booth, then to her, and then back. He darts his eyes between the two for a bit, leaving Penelope at a loss, until he finally closes his eyes and releases a massive exhale. Within less than a second, he started to drag her the other way and before she could fully understand what was happening, they were already back over to the photographer who was sobbing in a corner.

“Excuse me, sir,” proclaims Bastion, quickly getting the man’s attention. “We would be interested in one photo. But just one. Don’t try to upsell us anymore.”

“Wait. Really?” Penelope eyes nearly shot out of her head. “Are ya sure? We don’t have to if you don’t wanna.”

Bastion takes a deep breath in and out his nose. “I suppose I could manage a single photo… if it would make you happy.”

A giant grin grows on Penelope’s face as she leaps upwards and pecks Bastion’s cheek. “Yay! Thank you! Thank you! You’re the best!” she cheers, immediately rushing towards the wooden cutouts.

“Wonderful! Wonderful!” cheers the photographer as he wipes his cheek. “You will not regret this I promise. Now if you wouldn’t mind handing me the 50 dollars for the shoot and-”

“I thought ya said it was gonna be 20?” Penelope questions, pausing her flipping of the cutouts.

“Oh well, you must’ve misheard me," he nervously laughs. "But you know what, how about I do 45 for the happy pair?” 

Bastion furrowed his eyebrows.

The turtle gulps. “30 and a free frame?” he squeaks.

Bastion rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

After a quick moment, Penelope finally manages to locate the prized cutout and excitedly pulls it out. “So, Bastie. Do you wanna be the mermaid… or the old-timey swimmer?”

A grimace immediately grows on Bastion's face, which he soon hides. “Is there a more… dignified photo we can take?”

"Aw what..." Penelope gripes before playfully sticking out her tongue at Bastion. "Though maybe ya got a point. It would be nice to do somethin' a bit more romantic, or as you put it ‘dignified’.” Penelope ponders.

“You know,” the photographer interjects. “I might have an idea of what you’re looking for. And for an additional-” Bastion’s brow lowered. “Free service, I could set it up for you.”

“What do you think?” Penelope asks, looking straight towards Bastion.

“Make it quick,” he answers. 

Within an instant the photographer got to work, pulling out all sorts of props and orienting them in a manner that was initially confusing but eventually elegant and yet simple. Though this man just met them, it was like he knew exactly what each person would want with even Bastion giving an approving nod at the final display. With only a few moments left before the last light of day slips down the horizon, the turtle positions the couple onto the newly crafted set, carefully guiding them into their new postures. 

“Alright on the count of three, I need you two to give your brightest and biggest smiles. Are you ready?”

“Ready, Bastie?” Penelope whispers, slightly tilting her head upwards.

Bastion discretely glances down at his beloved, slipping a small smile before returning focus to the camera. “For you, Pen. Always.”

The door bursts open as the exhausted canine couple falls straight through. The pomeranian dives towards the ground as the other hound tosses the luggage to an empty corner of the room.

“Finally!” Penelope wheezes, hugging the floor. “We’re home.”

“Thank the stars.” Bastion breathes as he removes his jacket. “I am utterly drained.”

“I miss my bed.”

“I need to take a shower.”

“I wanna spend all day in my bed.”

“Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?”

“Did ya?"

“I could have sworn I combed through every single inch of that hotel and plane to assure that we didn't lose anything..."

"That's for sure. Ya nearly flipped 'em both upside down."

"Perhaps I just need to rest.”

“Yeah, jet lag is hittin’ me real bad too. I mean don't get me wrong, that vacation was amazin'. One of the best times of my life… but good heavens am I so glad to be home.”

“I completely agree. Though honestly, I am more glad to be out of that dreadful cab,” Bastion comments, pulling off his shoes, “I have no idea what was wrong with that driver.”

“Oh yeah, that guy was weird,” Penelope replies. “Maybe next time we should use airport parking… Oh! Or maybe we can go on a road trip in Ol’ Betsy.”

Bastion winces. Oh no. “Darling, I thought you got rid of ‘Betsy’. I got you a much nicer car.”

“No, she’s still here,” Penelope answers, slowly lifting herself off the floor. “Ya got a problem with Betsy?”

“Well, sweetie..." Bastion glanced around the room as if searching for the words. "don’t you think ‘Betsy’ is… How do I put this… holding you back?”

“I don’t think that at all. I love her.”

“Oh, I completely understand, my heart. But perhaps ‘Betsy’ would benefit more… away.”

“Whaddya mean?”

“Well… Do you genuinely think she should spend the rest of her days idly sitting in an apartment parking lot, wasting away, not able to fulfill her true purpose? Don’t you think it would be better if she stayed somewhere where she could be truly happy?” Junkyard comes to mind.

“I guess you’re right.” Penelope ponders, tapping her chin. “Hmm... I guess I should take her where she belongs. It's about time.” Bastion hides his sneer. About time. 

“Delightful. I am so glad you came to your senses, Pen. In fact, I would personally like to volunteer to take the vehicle there myself.”

“Really? Ya sure? I mean that would be wonderful, but it’s quite the drive.”

“Oh, I would be honored. Truly.” Anything to trash that 'thing'.

“Great! Oh, I guess I should check my PDA to see when I’m free.”

“Why do you need to do that?”

“So I can come with ya, silly.”

“I mean, if you wish to, dear. Though I wouldn’t want to waste your time on a small errand.”

“Well, don’t ya think I oughta come too if we’re goin’ to my momma's house?" Momma’s house? “She ain’t gonna know who you are, dork. Wait! This'll be her first time seein' ya in person. Imagine her surprise seein’ my ‘new’ boyfriend in Dad’s car.”

“Dad’s CAR?” Bastion repeats, clearly not in his thoughts.

“Yeah! Betsy’s Dad's car. The same one he used to drive me around in and where he taught me to drive. Didn’t I tell you this?”

“Of course.” Bastion coughs. “It must’ve slipped my mind.” 

“Well, I’m going to call my momma and let her know that we’re comin’... Or maybe I should keep it a surprise? Bastie, what do you- Are you okay?” Penelope cocks her head at Bastion who was lost in a thousand-mile stare.

“Um yes… Of course. I’m fine.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I just… realized how late it is and wondering if I have time to make dinner.” 

Penelope freezes. “Whaddya have planned?” She slurs, barely containing herself.

“Well I was thinking of using some of your excess brown sugar for a steaming pot roast, but it's getting quite late, so I guess we’ll have to settle for some sugar-glazed salmon. Would that be all right with you, love?”

“Yes! That! Make That!” Penelope chants, nearly salivating with each word.

Bastion winks. “As you wish.”

The two separate with Penelope darting off to her room as Bastion drags himself into the tiny kitchen area. The man heaves a sigh as he preheats the oven and snatches items from the cabinets and fridge, dropping them right onto the counter. Of course. Of course. It just had to be her father’s car. He rips out the aluminum foil. It just had to have emotional value to her. He snaps a garlic head in half. It just had to be something that he can't even “accidentally” crash without causing more trouble than it's worth. The knife swings down onto the table. Tragic backstories truly do ruin everything. 

He slices through the rest of the lemon. Oh well. At least it will be out of sight and out of mind soon. Though he wishes he didn’t 'volunteer' to drive that filthy thing across the entire state of Georgia. But not much he can change about that now. Maybe she'll forget. He masterfully chops through the rest of the lemons and other ingredients, before rotating 180 degrees to gingerly season the salmon. As he measured out the ingredients for the glaze, he couldn’t help but feel a nagging feeling nipping at the back of his neck. He swiftly scans the counter and slips a look through the fridge and cabinets once again, assuring that he has everything he needs for the dish. So why on earth does he feel like he’s missing…

The whisk falls out of his hands. Drat. The Blackmail. The canine’s head falls into his hands, rife with annoyance. He completely forgot about the blackmail, the whole reason they even went on that whole blasted trip in the first place… Well, in addition to celebrating his dear Pen’s success of course. Though, that was more of a coincidence. When he came across the intel about a foreign politician ‘secretly’ vacationing in that area, he saw a perfect opportunity to reward his precious darling while getting some real work done. He was hoping to sneak out one of the nights to give a said politician a ‘visit’ and extrapolate a favor or two perhaps siphon a million or two. But if the frustration pent up in his brow meant anything… that clearly did not happen. 

The hound massages his temples before picking the whisk off the ground and tossing it into the sink. Not much he can do about it now. It’s not like that will be his last attempt at extortion. He's confident there will be many fruitful opportunities with just that official alone. However, it does dwell on his mind that that was supposed to make up for another robbery that fell through, which was supposed to cover for a heist that he postponed, which was back up for a bailed burglary, and so on and so forth. He has hardly even touched the whole Blot-

He barely fights the urge to look at the bedroom door. Not wanting to even parlay with such thoughts. It’s just growing pains, Blot. That’s all it is. He exhales through his nose, allowing a small corner of his mouth to rise as he recollects when he first dedicated himself to a life of crime. Despite his clever mind and ability to pick up things quicker than more, he still had hurdles to overcome and lessons to learn. But here he is. A famed criminal genius who brings terror with just the sound of his name. He can handle this new part of his life. As with all things, he just needs a strategy. There's nothing to worry about.

He is the Phantom Blot, after all.

And the Phantom Blot can do anything.

A small beep breaks him out of his thoughts, alerting him that the oven is fully heated. He picks up a whisk and starts stirring. But he can worry about that later, right now he has a meal to perfect and a girlfriend to please.

Time passes as Bastion completes the final steps of preparing the dish, while Penelope rests on the couch. Eventually, the two meet up at the dining table with Penelope rushing into her seat as Bastion arrives with two hot plates in his hands. As her mouth waters, he sets them down revealing the sizzling salmon perfectly paired with a side of well-seasoned roasted asparagus and homemade mashed potatoes. As he pulls out a bottle of her favorite imported Italian soda and pours her a glass, Penelope giddily bounces up and down in her chair like an excited little kid. Normally he would find such behavior irritating, but for some reason when she does it, it is just the most adorable thing in the world. Every single bit of her is just so cute.

“Bon appétit,” says Bastion as he gestures over the food.

“Bon appétit, indeed!” Penelope cheers. “Thanks so much, Bastie.”

“You are more than welcome,” he responds, taking a seat on the other side.

Penelope greedily scoops up some salmon onto her fork, ecstatic to get the impeccable flaky fish in her mouth. But before the food can even go past her lips, the sound of three consecutive knocks pulls her attention away. The two canines immediately look at the door, before turning to each other.

“Are you expecting someone?” Bastion questions.

“I don’t think so."

Penelope releases a slightly disappointed whimper as she starts to rise from her chair.

“Hold on,” Bastion exclaims, raising a hand. “Why don’t you enjoy your food, my love? I will get it.”

“Works for me,” she cheerfully replies, plopping herself back into her chair and shoving the delicious food into her mouth.

Bastion playfully shakes his head, before quickly straightens his face as he strides over to the front door. His mind races over all the possibilities of who could be bothering them at such a late hour, secretly hoping for nothing too “difficult”. He peers through the peephole, eyes widening the second they catch a view of the person on the other side. What is…

“Who is it?” Penelope asks, still chewing.

“Um. It appears to be one of your colleagues.”

“Oo-oo! Open the door.”

Bastion tentatively obliges, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable interaction. As the door swings open, the person on the other side sizes him up and down with possibly faux surprise before opening her ruby-red lips to say,

“Why… How nice it is to see you again, stranger.”

“You as well,” Bastion mutters, eyeing the woman. 

“Is that Cia?” Penelope shouts, shooting up from the table. “Come on in, girl!”

The blond canine woman leisurely enters the apartment, her blue eyes glued to Bastion, just as in all their previous encounters. But this time they don’t stay long as she soon pauses to sniff the air.

“Mmmm… Somethin’ smells good.”

“Oh, that’s just Bastie’s absolutely amazin’ brown-sugar glazed salmon,” Penelope responds raising a fork. “His cooking is so good.”

“I can tell,” Cia replies, taking in another whiff.

“Ya know, I bet he wouldn’t mind ya takin’ some, right?” Penelope leaned towards Bastion who was still focused on the other woman.

“Oh that won’t be necessary darlin’,” Cia interjects, not even giving him the time to respond. “I had a big lunch, ya see, and I’m tryin’ to watch my calories. But I appreciate the offer.” Cia shifts her view towards Penelope, only to appear to be taken aback at first glance. “Oh. Miss Penelope. Did you do somethin’ with your hair?”

“Yeah!” Penelope beams. “I mean, I actually had it like this for a while, but I love it. Bastion was the one who actually convinced me to keep it like this and I’m so glad he did. It really feels like me, ya know.”

“Well…” Cia responds with an inflection he couldn’t quite parse. “It definitely suits you.” The woman swiftly returns her gaze towards Bastion who narrows his in response. 

“Is there anything we can help you with Miss Copperfield?” he asks.

She smiles, clearly picking up the tense tone. “Why, I’m just here to pick up the final draft of the research paper for Professor Macopé. He’s more eager than a fox in a henhouse to see it.”

“Wait!" Penelope blurts. "He wants it already?"

“Yessiree.”

“I thought I would be able to submit it next week.”

“He’s been askin’ for it. Didn’t ya see his email?”

“Email? Biscuits. I haven’t checked my email at all. I thought everyone was still on break.”

Cia places her hands on her knees and bends down as if talking to a child. “Well, that’s not an excuse, little missy. Ya need to learn to be a tad more responsible and know that just ‘cause you’re off the clock, doesn’t actually mean you’re off the clock. But we can worry ‘bout that later, darlin’. Just hand me the final draft and I’ll be out of y’all’s hair so you can enjoy some delicious salmon, okay sweetie?”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry.” Penelope bashfully shuffles off her chair. “I’ll go get it for ya.”

“Thank you, hun.”

The pomeranian runs off into her room, leaving Cia to roll her eyes and saunter over to an open counter. She inspects the surface with a swift dust of her fingers, before placing her leather designer bag in the free space. The woman then turns around and takes a cursory glance around the room, clearly judging everything she lays eyes on before landing at Bastion who is watching her every move. He already wasn’t pleased with the random visit and even less so at her treatment of his treasured Penelope. But unfortunately, it wouldn’t be wise to take any careless actions. He could smell the stench of something hiding behind her coy smile, but couldn’t quite pick up what exactly. He furrowed his brow, eyes locked on the target. Just what are you up to?

“So…” Cia utters, breaking the silence. “Seems like you two are still doin’ quite well, huh? ”

“We are.”

“I almost feel a l’il bad interruptin' you lovers.”

“Indeed.” 

Another silence takes over as she stares just as deeply into Bastion, as he is with her. Her expression denotes amusement but also attentiveness. Clearly searching for an in to pick him apart, piece by piece. Luckily he is immune from any standard prying, though her conduct feels a bit beyond typical. What is she looking for? Why can’t he read her? A picture is worth a thousand words, but seems like at this moment words may hold more value here. 

“So…” Bastion begins. “Are you only here for the paper?” 

An intrigued eyebrow raises on Cia’s face as she takes a few steps toward Bastion. “That was my plan. I mean, it would be mighty rude to take anythin’ else, wouldn’t you agree?” 

Bastion nods. “Certainly. Though I do hope it was not too much trouble for you to come completely out of your way to pick up a single item. I feel like that could’ve waited until Monday.”

A small laugh slips through her pursed lips. “Oh, it was nothin’. Trust me. That Macopé can be a tad impatient and I figured since I was in the area, it would be easier to just pay a visit to little Miss Penelope. Speakin' of little Miss Penelope…” Bastion fought the impulse to twitch. “I have to say, I’m rather surprised to still see you here.”

He ignores the searing heat forming at the tips of his ears. “What is surprising about that?” 

The blond raises her eyebrow even higher and tilts her head, essentially asking if he is serious just from her face alone. “I mean, unless I’m missin’ somethin’, it turns out you’re a bit more... faithful... than I initially thought. But don’t worry hun, that’s not a bad thing. If anythin’ I’m happy for y’all.”

Bastion opens his mouth to respond but stops himself, instead focusing on collecting his thoughts and feelings before any could get out of hand. He could feel the heat of his ears racing towards his cheeks, which he quickly diffused by a covert exhale of the nose. Don’t lose your composure now, Blot. Not with her around. Showing any signs of anger won’t do him any good and he has no idea how he allowed her to get so close. 

Perhaps he's still exhausted from the trip and thus is unable to properly counter her right now. It would probably be wise to let her get "out of y'all's hair” as she puts it, and form a plan for their next encounter which is sure to come. As if an answer to a prayer he hasn't made yet, Penelope soon pops out of the room with a flash drive in hand and a smile on her face.

“Here ya go!” she says, cheerfully handing over the stick to a pleased Cia.

“Thank you darlin’,” Cia replies. “Well, I believe that’s everything. Guess I’ll be on my way.”

“Alright. See ya Cia,” Penelope responds with a wave, before stopping halfway. “Oh! Before you go, do ya know if we’re bookin’ our own hotel rooms or would the department be doin’ that?”

Cia stops in her footsteps, slowly turning towards Penelope. “Excuse me?”

“For the Showcase. I know they changed a couple of things this year, but I’m not sure what the plans for hotels are. By the way, I’m so excited to watch your presentation.”

“Showcase?” Oh no.  

“Yeah, the one that’s comin’ up soon?” Penelope continues, clearly puzzled. "The one you have a presentation for? Which I'm real excited to see by the way."

“Honey… What makes you think you're comin'?”

Penelope’s smile starts to fade. “Wh-wh... Huh? I thought that..."

“Did you not see the list?”

“What list?”

“Is she not…” Bastion starts but doesn’t finish as Penelope bolts to her bedroom. Cia uncomfortably glances around as Bastion bores deeply into her. 

“Is she not going?” he repeats, this time much more firmly.

She sighs. “Macopé implemented some new ‘guidelines’ ‘bout who gets to go this year. It’s nothin’ personal. He just wants to 'maintain our program’s reputation' and 'bring those who will contribute the most'.” Bull Crap.

“But HER project will be one of the main ones presented. That is quite a big contribution don’t you think.”

“Listen, I don’t make the rules, I just… Well… I follow ‘em.” Asinine.

“But that is ridiculous. Penelope has been working tirelessly on this project and this is how you thank her. That research is going to make big waves at the showcase and if anyone should be there while it happens, it is her.” 

Cia narrows her eyes, almost looking like she is hiding a smirk. “You really seem to care ‘bout her don't ya?” 

Bastion glares at the other woman, fury barely simmering underneath as he clenches his fist tightly and lets loose.

“I have been holding my tongue for far too long, but I have finally reached my limit. My Pen is an exceptional scientist. A true genius. The best there ever was and will be. And I do NOT appreciate how you and everyone else at that half-baked research facility treat her like absolute garbage!"

Cia scoffs. “Oh please, I find this rather funny since last I remembered you were just as willin’ to throw her away.”

Bastion halts for a second, before immediately rebutting, “You were the one who made the offer!” 

“An offer I only made to help a 'lost' man quickly find where he needs to be and spare her some future heartbreak. You were the one who left her all alone at a work event, scramblin' 'round and makin’ a fool of herself in front of all her peers. She was so excited to show off her 'fancy-pants' new boyfriend, only for him to disappear for most of the day. What were ya even doin’?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Change the subject? Darlin’ you’re the one throwin’ rocks from your glass house. You're no better than the rest of us.”

Bastion tuns away. Unable to find a good snappy response. Curses. He didn’t expect this woman to immediately try and turn all the blame on him. Not like he was at fault or anything. He did nothing wrong… But this wasn’t helping Pen’s case. He takes a deep breath and returns his sights to Cia who is already off the couch, not even attempting to make eye contact as she steers straight to the door. She thrusts her hand toward the handle but then halts right before she touches it, much to his surprise.

“If you wish to help your Pen,” Cia mumbles, almost too quiet for him to hear. “You can try talkin’ to Macopé and see if you can change his mind. I can’t promise you he'll listen. He’s stubborn as a mule and I doubt that even I could. But hey, it’s better than nothin’." She grabs onto the handle and twists it. "Penelope should have the number to his office.”

“Do you happen to have his cell number?" Bastion queries, causing Cia to turn her head around. "I would prefer to discuss this as soon as possible as I doubt he will be in the office for the next few days.”

Cia opens her mouth and then stops, instead responding, “He doesn’t really like people havin’ his personal cell phone number.” I am more than aware of that. “I suppose you’ll have to wait until Monday and call the office.”

She pushes open the door, slipping one last look at Bastion. "Good luck!" The door closes, leaving Bastion alone near the entrance. 

“Thanks.” He sarcastically mouths. Exactly what I need.

As he stood at the entrance, he attempted to organize his thoughts- but then he felt it.

He felt the overwhelming sense of dread sprawled across the floor, crawling straight towards him and up his leg. He did not want to turn around. He wished he could just walk out the front door and drive away his Corvidette. But as much as he desperately wanted to resist, he couldn’t. He just had to see her. The hound forces himself to trudge towards the door, agonizing over every step as he skulks closer. When he finally reached the gates of anguish, he felt one final call to escape, but ignored it, instead creeping the door open and peeking inside, only for his entire insides to collapse at what he saw.

Never has it felt so pungent as it did in this moment. Never has he seen her in such awful despair. He hated this. He hated seeing her like this. He wanted so badly to avert his eyes. but he resisted the temptation. Instead tenderly perusing his beloved's despondent body draped over the bed. The room was completely shrouded in a blue oppressive shadow the only light being that maddening glow of the computer screen. A screen that no doubt shows a message he didn’t even have to read to know what it said. For some reason, his mouth opened as if his body knew that he should say something. Anything. But what could he even say? What could he even do? This is too much. He can’t handle it anymore. He’s not prepared for- a soft sob hits his ears.

He shuts the door. Unwilling to bear another moment. As the door clicks close, the Phantom Blot doesn’t remove his hand from the handle, instead clutching it tightly as his knuckles become white with fury. 

How dare they

How dare those absolute CRETINS

How dare they do this to HIS Pen

If there is one thing the Phantom Blot cannot stand it’s disrespect. And this is disrespect to the nth degree. Out of anyone in that pathetic lot, she was the only one who held even a modicum of value. She was unlike anyone else. And yet they try to bury her and insult her, practically insulting him in the process. Those ingrates. Those ignoramuses. Those morons. Just who does that pathetic professor and the rest of his ilk think they are? Oh, he’ll show them who they-

A crack snaps away the Blot’s attention, inciting him to peer down at the fracture forming within the metal handle in his grip. He releases it and takes a breath, wandering back through the living room. There’s no point in exerting his frustrations on this cheap garbage they called a knob. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been surprised about this. And as many times as he has tried to warn and prepare his exceedingly optimistic companion of this harsh truth, it seems to always find a way to butt its ugly head around at the most inconvenient moments:

Life is cruel.

They truly live in a dog-eat-dog world, and he’s not just saying that as a canine himself. Those who are not quick and vigilant enough to rise to the top will be torn to shreds and eaten alive by those who are much stronger and faster. And tragically, as much as he hates to admit it, his oh-so-fragile sweet little Penelope has once again fallen amongst the slaughter. 

But how could he even blame her? She was raised to be like this by the unfortunate example laid by her father. The Blot would never say this to her face, but he was not surprised to hear about his tragic fate. The world is not charitable to those who are kind and docile, like the Pomeranian family. It just chews them up and spits them out without a single hint of remorse, which is exactly what happened to him and no doubt would happen to her.

Luckily she has something, or rather someone, that her father did not. Someone capable of being a bit more ruthless. Someone not ashamed to delve beyond the civic chains of society. Someone who will never surrender or cower like some sort of filth. Someone with the cunning and skill to play everyone around them like fiddles. Someone who will do anything to amass power and prestige befitting his genius. Penelope has absolutely no idea of the very powerful ally at her side who will not only grant her every desire and beyond but will deal with pests who try to get in their way. 

The Blot scans around the room, instantly spotting the treasure trove waiting for him just on the counter. He smirks. Excellent. The Phantom Blot wanders over to the other side of the room and gently opens the rather expensive designer bag that Miss Copperfield seems to have accidentally left in her haste. Oops. A wicked grin grows wider and wider as he slips his hand into the bag and pulls out the ultimate prize.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The Blot’s eyes dart towards the front door before immediately returning to the device in his hands. Drat. She’s back already. He flips open the phone.

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

“Hello?” speaks a familiar southern drawl on the other side.

Come on. Come on. He scrolls through the M’s, intentionally remaining calm so his gloved hands don’t sweat. Madonna, MarriedNow, MassiveHair, MoneyGuy, Mule, Munchkin… The devil?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Hey! I think I left my bag here. Can I get it?”

For Pete’s sake. Where is it? He starts scrolling through the P's. PralineThief, PrayForHim, PrettyBoy, PrettierGirl… Why are these contact names so weird?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Listen, I really gotta go. Can I just come in? It’ll be real quick.” The door handle rattles. 

No. No. No. Where on earth is that idio- Wait. What if it’s… 

Knock. Knock...

“Seems like the door’s unlocked. I’m just gonna-” 

The door swings open and slams right into the door stopper, startling the person on the other side as their eyes instantly widen at what lies on the other side of the door.

“I believe you are looking for this?” Bastion bluntly remarks as he hands Cia the leather purse.

“Oh... Um..." she babbles, still unnerved by how swiftly the door opened. “Uh, thanks.”

“My pleasure. By the way, I figured you may want this” Bastion passes the lukewarm fish wrapped in foil to her.  “I know you mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to have it now, but I figured it would make a good lunch for tomorrow."

“Well, I-”

"I wrote the calories onto the foil,” he adds, pointing out the number. “Should help you with your count.”

“My. That’s... mighty kind of ya.” 

“Of course.”

Cia coughs as she nervously glances around. “... I hope things work out.” 

The blond makes her way down the halls, her cowboy boots clacking as she sneaks one last slightly embarrassed stare before disappearing down the stairs. The second she is out of sight, he allows the door to naturally and gradually close as he remains completely still. Once the door finally shuts, he paces around the small dorm, cleaning not only the kitchen but the rest of the shared space, turning off every single light as he goes. Eventually, the entire apartment is not only spotless but smothered by a blanket of darkness. But the grim figure doesn’t leave yet.

Instead, he lingers. He lingers and embraces the pitch-black void that he has found so much comfort and wisdom in. A place that serves as both his place of work and home. A place where he can truly be himself.

“Oh, they will,” mutters the Phantom Blot under his breath.

They will.