Chapter Text
‘This was all Robert’s fault…’
Waterboy quickly flinched at both the thought and at the crude pickup line from Flambae that was just broadcasted over the comms.
‘No that wasn't fair…’ He thought as he quickly made his way back from his mission. ‘That wasn't fair at all. If anything this entire…situation was his own fault’.
A honeyed voice from Malevola complimenting Robert’s dispatching skills. A countering low chuckle from Coupé about his skills in other areas.
‘For being so…pathetic. For being too obvious…’
Waterboy’s cheeks constantly burned with second-hand embarrassment. It had only been a day, and he thought he was actually going die of a heart attack.
As he approached the rec room at SDN— the place where this whole…situation started— he recounted the events leading up to today— wondering if anything could have been done differently.
‘No…’
Waterboy sighed as he sat down next to Golem, sharing brief eye contact with the only other sane Z-Team member over the absurdity that was happening over their earpieces at the moment.
‘It would have happened sooner or later. Because he was just THAT easy to read.’
Still— Waterboy’s wandering mind started at the top of the loop again, thinking over the events of yesterday.
It had been a good day so far, a great day even! It was the end of the first shift and Waterboy hadn’t failed one call! He was even returning from one of the more challenging solo missions he’s ever done.
It had been a month or so after Shroud's arrest, but some petty members of his Red Ring gang seemed to think they could “take up the mantle” so to speak— becoming a sporadic source of menace to the public and SDN.
Just over an hour ago, some Red Ring villains hijacked a local train supplied with tons of volatile material— and Waterboy was sent to take care of them.
Alone.
He honestly didn’t know how he did it. One moment he was rushing towards the train, practicing his witty one-liner in his head— the next, the train had stopped and the villains were knocked out— half of them having slipped in Waterboy’s puddles.
Almost shaking from all the leftover adrenaline, Waterboy could only think that it was extreme luck or divine intervention that he made it out of that situation uninjured as he entered SDN and headed towards the Z-Team’s rec room.
Located on the first floor for easy entrance and exit to assignments, the rec rooms (or the resting rooms) were places for heroes to recuperate from missions before being dispatched to the next. There were multiple rooms for the many teams of heroes at SDN, though typically, multiple dispatch teams would share a space. It was rare that every single hero would be resting at the same time, and it was not a strictly enforced rule that they had to stay in these rec rooms between calls.
However— safe to say, the Phoenix Program created a whole bunch of exceptions to those “rules”.
For one, they had their own room to themselves. Pretty sure that doesn't need explaining why. And second, they had to stay in said room if they were resting from a mission while on the clock. No wandering the lobby, selling the receptionists on cryptocurrency, or setting the plants on fire in between missions for the Z-Team.
The room itself wasn’t too bad in Waterboy’s opinion. Though— having been the janitor for a couple of days, he’s seen how the other heroes got a bit more…funding…in their break rooms.
As typical for all rest spaces, the doorway to the Z-Team's rec room was tall and wide enough for employees of all sizes to enter, and lacked a door so every member could easily rush to-and-from missions (and also to avoid face-to-door injuries from the heroes‘ irregular rapid entering and existing).
However, the actual room itself could be accurately compared to a mix of a pediatric waiting room and the second floor break room. A couple of chairs and a small couch (which Waterboy took the time to cover in plastic) were pushed up in an L formation against the furthermost walls, facing a low, plain coffee table and a small TV mounted to the upper right corner of the room. An end table with loose books and a stack of magazines from the 2010s were sat next to the couch. There was also a small table with a few dining chairs surrounding it on the left half of the room— possibly for board games or cards (though it seemed that SDN forgot to actually place the supposed board games and cards in the room). In the right corner closest to the entrance was a mini kitchenette— if one could call a couple of counters, some cabinets stuffed with snacks, and a coffee pot a kitchenette— with a small medical kit hanging on the wall to the left of it.
Again, Waterboy didn’t care that much about the lack of…everything…in the room. He was content to silently decompress from missions or vaguely watch whatever movie or show one of his other teammates pulled up on the old TV. The rest of the Z-Team didn’t seem to mind either, as they typically passed the time on their phones or chatting with each other as they waited to be dispatched next.
Speaking of, Waterboy could see his co-workers talking among themselves in said resting room as he approached— all of them waiting for Waterboy’s return before they could collectively clock out for their own break (as per Robert’s insistence).
Waterboy was just about to step into the room and notify Robert of his return when he heard a voice from behind him calling his name.
“Hey, Waterboy! Great job out there.”
Turning towards the voice that had only been in his ear all day, Waterboy’s eyes widened at the sight of Robert jogging up to him, Beef trailing lazily behind.
Immediately, he started panicking. Usually Robert waited for the last people dispatched on a shift to fully return to SDN at his desk— making sure that all Z-Team members were accounted for and “wouldn’t start shit” before he went off to take his own lunch.
Oh god…had Waterboy taken so long to get back that Robert just started his break anyways?
Nervous eyes looked around for the nearest clock to tell the time. He was kind of lost in his thoughts about his improbable success. Had he made the rest of the Z Team wait for him too???
As Robert got closer, before the dispatcher even had the chance to open his mouth again, Waterboy blurted out his worrying thought.
“I-I didn’t ruin- mess up y-your lunch…break, did I?”
Robert stopped in his tracks— his original train of thought derailing hard at Waterboy’s seemingly non-sequester as he blinked in confusion.
Waterboy clamped his hands together while still frantically looking around for a damn clock somewhere. “I’m- I am sorry that I took so l-long- a while to walk- um, get back, but-“
“Whoa, whoa.” Robert lazily swiped a hand in the air, as if to physically cut off that thought as he finally understood what the other was asking. Waterboy’s wandering gaze snapped back to the dispatcher at the moment.
“No, nothing like that. You…” Robert paused to find the right words. Then his mouth quirked into a soft, amusing smile. “…made it back in a timely manner. I just…”
The smile that Robert wore froze in place as he trailed off—words seemingly escaping him. Some inexplicable tension left his shoulders along with a barely audible sigh as Robert continued to stare at Waterboy— the bright grin he had slowly fading as the seconds ticked on.
Waterboy nervously fidgeted in place. Did he… have something on his face? Did the Red Ring guys manage to injure him somehow and he didn’t even notice cause he wasn’t even really conscious the entire mission???
Before he could lift a hand to check, Robert spoke up again.
“I just…” Arms crossed, his eyes darted around, seemingly looking for something. Waterboy wasn’t sure what he could be looking for until Robert’s gaze finally landed on Beef— who, up until that point, had been sniffing around Robert’s feet.
“Was…on…my way to take Beef outside for a bit.” Robert finished quickly with slightly widened eyes. He gave Waterboy a brief, tight-lipped smile before glancing down at his dog.
Sensing he was being watched, Beef looked up and presented the most adorably perfect puppy dog face that Waterboy couldn’t help but aw internally at the sight.
Even Robert wasn't immune to Beef as the dispatcher's expression softened at the puppy-dog eyes. “You know, it’s his break too, and this little guy just couldn’t wait to start.” The last half of his sentence was said in the specific voice people put on when talking to babies and pets, as he bent down to give Beef a little scratch behind his ear.
That…made a lot more sense then what Waterboy initially feared. He relaxed more as he fondly watched Beef take all the adoring pats from his owner.
“Plus…I knew you were coming back by yourself.” Robert tacked on as he straightened up. “I trusted that you wouldn’t start any trouble, so I figured I would start heading down a little early.”
“Oh! No, I-I would never! Cause- start…any trouble. Here!” Waterboy stammered out. The idea of Mecha-man— no, Robert— trusting him (to do the bare minimum, but still!) spread a warm feeling across his chest.
“Yeah. I know, bud.” Robert sighed, the same amused smile on his face from before coming back for a moment before smoothing out to something more serious. He ducked his head to the side as he avoided eye contact.
“Um, speaking of, I know it wasn’t…ideal to send you to deal with those Red Ring assholes alone. It was poor management on my part." Robert ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “No one would have made it back in time to help, even if I had immediately sent them back out.”
Robert’s face was creased in frustration, all aimed at himself, as he continued to stare down at the floor. “It was a reckless move— one that could have left you seriously injured. And I know I probably should have just let the call go but-”
Waterboy glanced towards the elevators as Robert’s sentence cut off with a disgruntled noise. The silence stretched on as they both thought about a certain dispatcher/reemerged hero. About the villain who was truly the cause of the precarious state he ended up in. About the group he left behind, and what would happen if that group were to rise up in numbers and power once again.
“N-no, I...understand.” Waterboy replied in a small voice.
Waterboy didn’t think Robert understood him though, as the dispatcher shot him a sad, thankful look and took a deep breath, intending to continue the conversation.
No, that wasn’t right. Waterboy wasn’t just saying that for pity’s sake. He really did understand what Robert was thinking— even agreed with it.
Before he could psych himself out of it, Waterboy was interrupting Robert.
“I-” Waterboy boldly started, before hesitating over what he was about to admit. It didn’t take long for him to decide it was true though, and his gaze steeled on Robert’s. “I…think I would have ask- v-volunteered to go anyway. Even if you didn’t send…d-dispatched me.”
And he would have.
It was true that Waterboy was the only person available. He easily figured that out from the emptiness of the resting room and the short amount of time since each of his teammates had been sent off on their own tasks.
And if you had told him a month ago that he would voluntarily throw himself into a hijacked train full of explosives to stop some Red Ring members, he would have thought you had slipped on one of his puddles and taken you to the infirmary to check for a concussion.
But Chase was…well he wasn’t nice to him— not in the way Robert or Miss Blazer was— but he tolerated Waterboy, which was a huge win in his book. At the very least he didn’t yell at him for the way he cleaned around the office the way some employees did when he was a janitor.
However, more importantly— he was special to Robert. Robert— who helped him, a stranger at the time, look presentable for a job interview out of nothing but the kindness of his heart. Robert— who saw…something in him and gave him a place on the Z-Team. Robert— who believed in him. No matter how much he messed up or how gross his powers seemed. Believed that he could make a difference. Be a hero.
Seeing Robert the day after Chase collapsed, how…vacant he was…it was a look that Waterboy never wanted to see darken Robert’s face again. He knew how much seeing Chase like that still affected Robert now. Saw it in the way he sent as many Z- Team members as he could reasonably allow whenever a Red Ring related call pops up; in the way his voice clipped when dispatching them. So if Waterboy had to toughen up once in a while and take on a whole train full of Red Ring members to make sure that they could never hurt Chase or Robert or anyone again— then so be it.
Though, as soon as Waterboy said that out loud, common sense came rushing back to him. Isn’t that what got Chase into his situation in the first place? Invisigal ignoring Robert’s orders and facing the Red Ring alone— even if she thought it was for a good cause?
Waterboy blanched slightly as his thoughts spiraled more. God, he didn't mean it like that, like he would intentionally disobey Robert— but was that how it came across as? Robert didn't think he was heartlessly tactless for saying that to him, right?
Waterboy's vision focused back on the dispatcher’s face to gauge his reaction to the careless comment.
But Robert wasn’t angry. At least…he didn’t look angry. He just kind of…stared at Waterboy, in something like disbelief— an unreadable emotion flickering across his eyes.
‘Was that a good or a bad thing?’ Waterboy frantically thought as he squirmed under Robert’s gaze.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long to find out as Robert huffed out a laugh, a smile blooming on his face.
“Wow— that’s…” Robert floundered, then shook his head as words failed to come to him. Giving up, he beamed at Waterboy instead. “You’ve really grown a lot within the past month, huh? That’s…actually the other thing I wanted to mention…” He said running his hand through his hair again as he briefly looked away and back.
“I know it was reckless of me to send you on that call alone, but…. You really kicked ass out there.” Robert’s eyes pierced Waterboy’s own as if he was trying to make the words sink into his brain.
“O-oh! That’s…I mean, I didn’t- I-I can’t even…” Waterboy mumbled, his voice getting lower and lower with each word, not even finishing his sentence as he tapered off.
Having sensed Waterboy wasn’t going to finish his thought anytime soon, Robert pressed on. “No, you did! You should have seen the way you took out those guys,“ Robert gave a low chuckle, clearly reminiscing on… whatever he saw Waterboy do. “It was…seriously impressive.”
Waterboy didn’t have the heart or the words to tell Robert he didn’t even fully remember doing it himself.
Robert took Waterboy’s silence as encouragement and shot him a wide smile. “You’ve been getting a lot stronger— not only with your powers but with your confidence too.”
And Waterboy really has been, hasn’t he. It wasn’t the best, but compared to when he started— Waterboy could say with confidence (ha) that he stuttered less and formed fewer teammate-injuring puddles on the job. Within the past month he’s helped save the city, defeated a mega evil super villain, and thrown a whole chair through a vending machine. He didn't know he was even capable of doing something like that! (The throwing of a chair into a vending machine, that is. Saving the city and defeating Shroud was very much a team effort, but destructive property???)
Robert’s smile softened a bit— along with his voice. “It’s been amazing to watch you improve and…” He suddenly stepped forward into Waterboy’s space— his hand raising up and landing on Waterboy’s upper arm. “I’m…really proud of you.”
A comfortable silence passed as Robert’s sweet words caught up to Waterboy’s lagging brain. He never had that many sincere compliments said to him by… anyone! Not even his Gran.
The combination of Robert’s words, smile, and full attention was causing his brain to stumble over itself more so than it usually does. The distracting warmth of his hand was just making it worse.
“T-that’s…no one’s ev-ever done- ever said…such niceness! Before. To me. I’m so.. I…um… than-thanks. Thank you…Robert.” Waterboy stuttered out faintly, eyes wide as he stared down at Robert— who only smiled more at Waterboy’s floundering mess of a thanks.
Robert’s hand gave Waterboy’s arm a light squeeze before falling away.
“Well— I should probably start going. Let you and the rest of the Z-Team start your lunch.” Robert said as he stepped away.
Waterboy startled. Right. It’s break time. He hoped he hadn't held up the rest of the team too long by chatting with Robert. “R-Right! And you…a-as well. Also! Have a good lunch…break…with…with Beef.”
A look of confusion flickered on Robert’s face. “Beef?” He questioned.
However, the look passed as soon as it appeared— recognition replacing it instantly. “Beef! Right…” Robert placed his hands on his hips as he addressed the dog in question. “I’m taking you outside for a bit, aren’t I.”
Maybe Robert was having a bit of an off day today. Waterboy couldn't judge him, the last few hours of his life had rattled him thoroughly.
Almost like he understood the question, Beef barked happily and started pacing in small circles. Robert shook his head in amusement. “Guess it’s time to get this little guy outside.” Throwing one last soft smile and a casual wave towards Waterboy, he turned to walk towards the entrance of SDN. “See you next shift.”
“Y-yeah! See you also! Too…” Waterboy called out lamely, holding his hand up to return Robert’s parting gesture.
His hand slowly fell to his side as he stared after Robert’s retreating form.
And— alright— perhaps Waterboy was starting after Robert a bit longer than was socially acceptable, but his mind kept drifting back to all the nice things Robert had said to him just a couple of seconds ago.
His encouraging smile…. His warm hand on his arm…
Waterboy finally noticed the heat in his cheeks as he blushed further at the memory.
‘Was he blushing that deep the entire time he was talking to Robert?’ A small wave of dread washed over him at the thought.
Okay. So. It was possible that Waterboy— maybe— had a tiny…little…totally manageable, uh…crush on his boss.
Could anyone blame him though??? Robert was just so…
The blush returned in full force as Waterboy focused back on the direction Robert had just left.
…so nice. He was always so patient and kind to him. Never looked at him in disgust when he accidentally left puddles of water if he stood somewhere too long. Never cut him off short when he struggled with a sentence. And! He actually tolerated touching him! A light pat on the back, a comforting arm squeeze, a guiding shoulder grab; Robert didn’t seem to care about Waterboy’s…innate wetness.
Waterboy’s heart fluttered at just the mere thought of Robert, and god— wasn’t that pathetic. He wasn’t usually this flustered around the other man— Waterboy had to work with the other guy’s voice in his ear daily for Pete’s sake (which has somehow wormed its way into quite a few… interesting… dreams)— but it seemed that all the recent high praise from Robert was doing numbers on his blood pressure.
At first Waterboy misinterpreted his feelings as appreciation for Robert— for being the first person outside of his Grandma to treat him…normally. To not constantly look upon him with pity or disdain like there was something wrong with him.
But as the Z-Team grew warmer and friendlier to him over the past few months; as the sources of encouragement and support came from more than just Robert— Waterboy slowly realized that what he felt around the dispatcher was…very different from how he felt around the others.
Waterboy couldn’t exactly recall when this infatuation really started— not when he spent half of the time he knew Robert believing the feeling he was experiencing was friendship. If he had to pin point it, he’d say it was probably after his first shift on the Z-Team— when Robert sat with him in a chemically fumed janitor closet just to give him one of his Robert-patented pep talks.
He never forgot the advice Robert told him that day. It was like he was being seen— understood— for the first time; being told something that he didn’t even realize about himself. And the fact that Robert went out of his way, after a rough shift, after-hours, to encourage him? He could have left Waterboy to wallow for the rest of the night and the ex-janitor would have been none the wiser, but he didn’t.
Waterboy knew how bad he was that first shift— cringed in bed at night at his over eagerness and the amount of injuries he caused. He was so sure that in response to his woes, Robert would flash him a pitying smile while telling him that “maybe you're just not cut out for this hero-ing business after all, kid.”
But he didn’t. And after actually getting to know the man better, Waterboy would laugh at his past self for thinking Robert would ever say such a thing.
From then on, his affections for the dispatcher slowly seeped into his life— blooming outward like watercolor on a canvas as he started to notice more things about the other man. Like how much he cared about others before himself— his desk having more items for Beef and mementos from others than personal decorations. How much he looked after the Z-Team— how patient he was with all of them. How much of a hero he was— even outside of the Mecha-suit— always trying to do the right thing.
…
…How…attractive he was. How expressive his eyes were. How nice his low chuckles sounded. How he always gave his full attention to whoever he was speaking to.
Waterboy remembered their very first encounter, how close Mecha-man’s— or Robert’s— face had been. At the time, he was too nervous about his future interview and too focused on trying to pinpoint why the stranger looked so familiar to process the entire “stranger-moving-across-his-body-and-ending-up-really-close-to-his-face” thing.
But over time, (usually late at night) his mind sometimes drifted back to that encounter.
How it felt to have Robert’s face so close to his. The weight of his hands on his shoulders. The heat of his body. What it would feel like, if he had… easily leaned forward. Just a bi-
“Ooooooooo- looks like someone got a crush on Rrrrrrrroobertoooo~”
A titillating voice shattered through Waterboy’s thoughts as he snapped his head sharply to the side.
“What?” He blurted out in a high pitched voice, his mouth moving before his self-consciousness could catch up.
Oh god. Right. He was right outside the rec room. He was a couple feet away from the entrance and could clearly see the rest of the Z-team turn their attention to him at Prism’s teasing.
Waterboy flushed even more than he already was, practically feeling the heat radiating from his ears and cheeks-
Dread and mortification suddenly flooded back into his system. How hard was he blushing before this? How long had he been standing there, blushing like a mess, pathetically staring longingly after Robert like a doting wife sending her husband off to war?
‘Maybe he wasn’t standing there for that long,’ Waterboy frantically thought as he tried to reassure himself. ‘Maybe it was just a joke and they didn’t all watch him talk to Robert and then stare after him like a creep even though he’s like 10 feet away from the doorway and can clearly see most of his teammates so they could obviously see hi-‘
“Yeah, you gonna get in here or make fuckin’ goo goo eyes all day? I’m fuckin’ starving.” Flambae deadpanned— unfortunately confirming Waterboy’s train of thought— as he crossed his arms from where he stood next to Prism, who was sitting at the table.
(Where was the nearest body of water Waterboy could try to absorb himself into.)
His eyes snapped back towards where Robert exited. The man was long gone, so it was completely irrational to worry if Robert somehow heard what both Prism and Flambae said. Still, Waterboy hurriedly crossed the 10 feet into the resting room to save face in front of any other SDN employees milling around.
“W-w-what? I-I don’t- it’s not…that’s…co-completely! Unprof- uh…not-“ Waterboy faintly protested as he stumbled forward to somewhere near the middle of the room. Is he having a panic attack? It felt like he was having a panic attack…
“Ah Jesus, look what you’ve done to the poor lad.” Punch-up scolded, getting up from his place next to Coop on the couch to walk over to where Waterboy stood.
Malevola tilted towards him from where she was leaning against the side table— shooting him a reassuring smirk. “Relax babe, they’re just teasing.” She informed, her tail lazily swishing back and forth behind her.
Sonar hummed in agreement from where he was sipping on a cup of coffee by the counters. “Yeah— I mean, it's not like any of us can say anything without being giant hypocrites.”
…
Wait. What?
A murmur of general agreement passed through the room as Waterboy froze in place— eyes widening— trying to make sure he understood that right.
A moment of thought, and- yeah, no, there really was no other way to interpret that admission.
“So…so…y-you all...?”
“Think Robert’s hot? Uh, yeah, no shit, dude.” Invisigal bluntly said from where she was sitting on the coffee table, legs kicked up on Golem’s knees from where he was sitting on the floor in front of her.
Waterboy…didn't know what to think about that.
Invisigal— well, Waterboy wasn't sure there was anyone in SDN who didn't know of the woman's infatuation with the dispatcher. But the rest of them…. The rest of the Z-Team…they all…?
A hand lightly tugging his wrist broke through his jumbled emotions. “Woah there laddie. Might want to sit down before you crack your skull open.” He heard Punch- Up say, guiding him to sit in the chair opposite of Prism. All he could do was faintly plop down on the chair as he blinked rapidly at nothing in particular, trying to understand what he was hearing.
Prism lowered her phone, her eyes roaming over his face as he sat down.
She was clearly looking for something; and whatever it was, she must have found it as she sat back in her chair and threw up her hands in exasperation. “Damn! Robbie for real got another one of us? Nine for nine?” She poked a thumb at Waterboy while addressing everyone but him. “ And this dude wasn’t even here in the beginning!”
“I was wondering if he’d get to you too.” A thoughtful look crossed Malevola's face as she spoke towards Waterboy. “Was starting to think maybe it was an ex-villain only thing or something.” She shook her head, the contemplative look replaced with a smile. “I’m kinda glad, it felt a little weird leaving you out of…all this…after a while.” Some team members tilted their heads in silent agreement at that.
Waterboy’s eyes darted from speaker to speaker. He still didn’t know what was going on— and was honestly still trying to process that he wasn’t getting laughed out of the room.
“Congratulations, lad! Welcome to the club,” Punch-up cheered from beside Waterboy’s seat, giving him a firm, wet, punch on the arm that jolted him to the side a bit. “Now, who wants to do the honors of explainin’ it to him?”
“Club…?” Waterboy faintly repeated.
“Yeah, the ‘Bobart is a sexy beast’ club.” Sonar casually said walking more towards the table. The flush came back full force to Waterboy’s face at the bluntness.
Prism’s protests of “Okay, I did not agree to that fuck-ass name…” were cut off by Invisigal taking her feet off Golem and turning around to face the little make-shift circle the Team was making. “What is there to explain? We’ll throw him a flirt here or there but we don’t really do anything. Sometimes if Robert hacks something or says anything wet-dream worthy over comms we'll shoot each other a look but that’s basically it.” She stated, crossing her arms with a shrug.
And Waterboy did vaguely take note of that. The knowing look that the other Z-teams members shot each other sometimes while he was resting in the rec room with them. But he always chalked it up to some ex-villain or inside joke thing. After all, they were all already a team way before Waterboy joined. Never would he ever suspect that this was the reason behind those glances.
Invisigal continued on. “It’s, like, a known fact. Robert’s hot. He got the voice, the scars, the attitude. We all noticed it day-one.”
Malevola tilted her head at the last sentence. “Uhh— speak for yourself babe, not everyone is as horny as you.”
“Yeah. He was such a annoying little bitch at first.”
A single loud, sharp laugh escaped Prism at Flambae’s comment. “Oh I know you did not just say that. You wanted to fuck that man so bad it made you look stupid.”
Flambae glared at her, but his lack of retort was telling.
“You know, I think it was after that wee pep talk that he gave all of us that started it all.” Punch-up pitched— a hand scratching his chin in thought.
Malevola propped her hand on her fist as she leaned back slightly more on the side table. “Yeah, I’d say so.” A small, soft smile graced her face as she recalled the speech Robert gave all of them on how their fears prevented them from turning their band of sabotaging assholes into a working team.
What he said, it was something so perceptively accurate, it unnerved the entire team.
She gently shook her head. “I mean he did accurately read us to filth, but he never babied us for it. And he genuinely seemed to believe in us.”
“Had faith in us when no one else did.” Golem tacked on.
“Ugh— his damn speech actually made me want to go out to try and make him…proud.” Prism’s face scrunching up at the cliche, sappy sentiment, though no less true.
Another murmur of agreement from the rest of the ex-villains followed Prism's sentence.
“He let me continue working at SDN…”
Waterboy jumped at Coupé's voice materializing to his left. Looking over, he saw her hovering beside Punch-Up. Wow, he didn’t even hear her move from the couch.
She lowered her gaze, the only outward indication for the remorse she held for her past actions, “…even when he shouldn’t have.”
Invisigal rolled her eyes. “Well, I was trying to avoid all this touchy feely shit,” she mumbled as she turned her head to look towards the wall. “ but…yeah. Robert’s just…a good guy.” She paused for a bit, lost in thought on all the second chances Robert had given her.
Waterboy reflected on everything he heard so far. So he wasn't the only one who had fallen for Robert’s pep talks and patience. He supposed it made sense though. They all had been labeled as outcasts for one reason or another, and Robert was probably the first solid constant in their lives. Of friendliness. Of support. Of encouragement. And his keen perceptiveness made it easy to feel like he truly saw them. Which made his unwavering faith in them hit that much harder. No matter how many times they messed up or tried to give up, he was always there with a firm hand and a steady voice telling them to just…try.
“Yeah. I…I get it.” Waterboy said quietly into the fragile air the room had taken, hand clutched to his heart as he got lost in his own thoughts and feelings.
The mood soon broke when Sonar spoke up. “It’s kinda funny— we all were so whipped for Bobby after that speech that we thought he had some sort of crazy, mind control, seduction powers at first.”
Flambae scoffed. “I’m still not convinced that he doesn't. That fucker got us wrapped around his little dick so fuckin’ fast. It's unnatural.”
“No. He’s just deadly charming.” Coop said, tilting her head to the side. “Shame. He would have made for a great assassin.”
Alright. So, guess Waterboy was in this…club? Inside joke? General agreement? That the Z-Team all had regarding Robert.
Despite how weird it was, Waterboy’s heart warmed a little at the thought of being part of a group, an inside joke. With other people.
Still, there was one thought that was nagging at him.
“So…have none of you…date- a-asked out…him? Asked him out? Robert?” Waterboy asked, a little nervous that his question was too prying.
After all, from the way everyone spoke— and from Invisigals description— it seems no one’s actually acted upon these unanimously agreed upon feelings. Waterboy knew why he would never do anything towards Robert, but struggled to understand the same about the team who should’ve had their supposed HR on their asses 24/7.
His answer came in the form of Prism scoffing, her attention on her phone as she replied. “We would— if Invisa-bitch over there wasn’t so territorial over the man.”
Invisigal immediately straightened up, anger clear on her face. “What the fuck?”
Flambae threw his hands up half-heartedly. “Hey. Don’t kill the messenger, alright? Wouldn’t want Waterbich over there to piss his pants over your threats, yah?” He shrugged. “Just getting us on the same page.”
Invisigal stood up this time, face morphing more into confusion, though the anger still lingered. “No, what the actual fuck are you talking about? I never…“ she flailed her hands around, looking for a word. “…claimed Robert??? What the fuck gave you that idea?”
Punch-Up’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and slight disbelief. “You don’t remember?”
Malevola tilted her head and squinted her eyes at Invisigal. “Yeah, it was like, the day right after the Pep-Talk? We all were talking about what happened the day before, in this room, when you suddenly burst in.”
After Robert, Chase, and Blonde Blazer left the room, the Z-Team sat in a brief silence as they processed both the speech and the disjointed feelings their new dispatcher gave them.
Honestly, it's hard to remember who said it, but some joke was cracked about how hot it was when Robert yelled at them. It was said in a joking tone and the rest of the team faintly laughed, but quickly fell silent as they all thought about the sentiment more seriously.
The following shift resulted in similar private comments and quips about Robert’s attractiveness on shared missions or in the resting room— all in a light, joking air. Though it didn’t take long for them to realize the unspoken truth behind it all. By the end of the day, a group chat was formed filled with a variety of crash outs due to one handsome dispatcher.
The next day, the rest of the Z-team were in the rec room getting ready for the first shift of the day and planning seduction tactics— half joking-half genuine— when Invisigal stormed into the room.
“You were like, steaming mad.” Malevola emphasized. “I think you heard that we were talking about Robert and yelled something like…” She paused to think back and held up two fingers to monotonely quote, “‘I swear to god, if any of you bitches get in the way of my chances with Robert, I’ll fucking hunt you down.’” She shrugged and lowered her hand. “Or something along those lines…”
Punch-up looked sheepish as he scratched the side of his neck. “Figured you were pissed cause all of us were thinkin’ about takin’ the whole thing seriously”
“We alllll could see you were really gunning after Robert.” Prism teased, putting her entire body weight onto the table as she leared towards Invisigal. “We heard that little flirtatious moment y'all had over the comms when he thought he was only talking to you…” Then she leaned back, crossing her arms, giving a half shrug. “Plus- I respect the grind of a bad bitch who knows what she wants.”
Invisigal’s brows furrowed. “But I haven’t, like… done anything towards Robert recently.”
Malevola piped up. “Figured you were waiting for the whole…” She hesitated for a moment, looking unsure. “…‘working for Shroud’ thing to blow over…” Invisigal immediately froze at the mention of her past boss.
Malevola, noticing, quickly moved on. “Or maybe you were playing the long game. It wasn’t really our business, so we didn’t care.”
Invisigal slowly relaxed as Malevola’s explanation sunk in and looked towards the rest of the Z-team in slight disbelief. “So, what, you guys just…backed off of Robert because of me? Because I asked?”
Nods and head tilts and shrugs from the others greeted her.
“More like threatened, but yeah.” Sonar answered.
An unreadable emotion crossed Invisigal’s face. “That’s…” A small shake of her head smoothed her expression to her default, mildly bored look. “That’s fucking stupid. I was just joking. I was annoyed because Waterboy and Royd cockblocked me earlier that day.”
Right, Waterboy did remember that— how claustrophobic the bathroom stall had suddenly felt at the sound of the woman's voice in the men’s bathroom. He shrunk a little in his seat at the memory.
“Well how the fuck were we supposed to know. You were kinda a loner bitch back then.” Flambae argued, brows furrowed in annoyance. “No one could get a fuckin’ read on you.”
“Yeah, none of the psych classes I took at Harvard-”
Whatever Sonar was going to say was cut off by various groans and “shut the fuck up”s from the rest of the Z-team.
Invisigal tensed but didn’t retort back. Flambae wasn't exactly wrong. Even Waterboy knew how prickly and self isolated Invisigal was when he was simply the janitor.
She huffed out a breath, still rigidly standing in defense. “Well I didn’t care if any of you wanted to seriously ask out Robert. I’m not territorial, the fuck?” She shot towards Prism, repeating her words.
Facing back towards the rest of the team, she placed her hands on her hips, relaxing slightly. “And I still don’t care now.”
At this, everyone in the room— minus Waterboy and Golem— perked up in interest. Sonar’s ears flicked upward as he asked, “Oh. So…we can for real shoot our shot with Robert?”
Invisigal’s face scrunched slightly, “I mean, fucking yeah? I’m not your mom, dude. Do whatever you want.” She sat back down on the coffee table, crossing her legs and leaning forwards to prop her head on her fist.
She looked slightly bored— a little contemplative— as she spoke the single cataclysmic sentence that spurred the entire reason for Waterboy’s current predicament.
“Though, I highly doubt any of you could manage to pull him…”
Immediately, a cocaphony of protests overlapped each other.
Flames flickered briefly. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
A phone being slammed down on a table. “Wanna repeat that for those in the back?”
The whisper of a knife materializing. “Are you suggesting my skills aren’t adequate?“
Eyes briefly widening in shock, Invisigal raised her hands in mock surrender at the unintentional insult. “WOAH! Woah!” She laughed out, voice raised to be heard over the noise. “I just meant that I’ve been trying to get into the dude's pants for the past month, and every time he just blue-balls me with that sexy, sarcastic, dead-inside voice of his. It’s like trying to flirt with a brick wall.”
Flambae scoffed. “Of course it suck for you because you have shit flirting skills.” His voice pitched up in falsetto as he took a mocking tone. ‘Oh, let me just be horny as fuck around him all the time till he snaps and fucks me over his desk…’”
This time it was Invisigal's turn to look offended.
Flambae just crossed his arms and puffed out his chest. “It takes a lot more…finesse than that.”
Right next to him, Prism started doubling over in laughter in her chair. “YOU? Finesse??? Be so fucking for real right now.” She managed to wheeze out through laughs, thumping her fist on the table. “Pulling his pigtails ain’t flirting either.”
Coop elegantly twirled the blade in her hand between her fingers and huffed a laugh, a sly smile gracing her face. “You wouldn’t know seduction if it stabbed you in the chest.”
Punch-up grimaced. “Well you’re not exactly one to talk, darlin’...”
If it was chaos when Invisigal accidentally insulted everyone’s flirting skills— Waterboy doesn't even want to know what to call whatever the Z-team devolved to as they started to defend their own egos.
Loud.
Loud was one, understated way to describe it as Waterboy pushed his chair back from the table to avoid being caught in the middle of an argument between Punch-up and Prism— who have begun leaning over him to get into each other's faces.
As Invisigal and Mavevola finally stood up and made their way over to the table where most of the Z-team had formed a loose, argumentative circle, Waterboy noticed the Golem was the only one not engaging in… whatever was happening.
Similar to Waterboy, he was sitting back, watching the group. But, unlike the look of slight fear and confusion that stuck to his own face, Golem had an amusing smile on as he watched his teammates, as if this was something that’s happened before and was used to seeing.
Just as Waterboy was contemplating standing up and sitting next to the guy to ask for his two cents, Sonar’s voice pierced through the noise.
“ALRIGHT! You know what time it is, boys.”
Even though Waterboy scooted back, Punch-Up and Prism still left an open space for him within the circle, so he could clearly see when Sonar pulled out a small notebook from his interior jacket pocket— a pen clipped onto the spiral binding on the side— and slammed it onto the table. “Which of us will be the first to date Robbie Robertson.”
Flambae pulled a face at that. “Date? I don’t want to fuckin’ date Bob-bob. I just want to see his pathetic little face when he's on his knees begging for my-“
“Woaaah, ok. TMI, dude.” Malevola said, cutting off that sentence with a wave of her hand.
“Alright, then how about…” Sonar thought for a bit as he reworded the bet in his head. “Which of us will be the first to pull Robbie Robertson?” He slammed his fist back on the table in emphasis.
“Whoever is the first to ask Robert out to… a verbally agreed upon, non-platonic outing— not work related-” He pointed towards Flambae, who simply nodded. “-and he agrees to go willingly- with no outside coercion,” He turned towards Coupé, who shot him an icy glare and dissipated her knife. “Will win the pool.”
Sonar sloped his hands together, bringing them towards the mischievous grin plastered on his face. “Now…who’s in?”
High money amounts were announced around the table as several voices popped up saying things like “You guys’ll never stand a fuckin’ chance…” and “Oh it’s on, lads.” and “My seduction tactics far surpass your own…”
Invisigal suddenly turned towards Golem as the rest of the team continued hashing out money amounts. “What about you big guy? Wanna get in on this action?”
Curious of the answer, Waterboy focused his attention from the increasingly large numbers everyone was betting (which was making him question the possibly dubious origins of said money) to the two heroes.
Golem tilted his head up as he thought. After a long pause— he nodded.
“You know what…yeah, deal me in.” Rocks grated against each other as he stood up and shambled over to the table. “I’ve been taking a break from romance, but if it’s with Robert, I'll give it a shot.” He then smiled gently at Invisigal. “Thanks for thinking of me, little lady.”
She smiled up at him, lightly punching him in the arm as he stood next to her. “Ive been telling you dude, you do better in person anyways.” She encouraged before turning back towards the bet discussions.
Well that sort of explained Golem's nonchalance to the whole thing.
“What about you, lad?” A large hand landing lightly on his arm broke Waterboy from his thoughts. Despite the gentleness, Waterboy jumped violently— having been so focused on Golem and Invisigal's conversation.
The hand, who Waterboy looked up and saw belonged to Punch-Up, retreated quickly to his side after getting his attention, subtly wiping on his pants to dry. Wide eyes in slight surprise at how violently he flinched quickly relaxed as he shot Waterboy a friendly smile. "How much you bettin‘?” He asked.
Waterboy blinked rapidly at the question. He…honestly didn’t think of himself as a candidate for the betting pool.
But thinking about it more, it would make no sense for the Team to exclude Waterboy from this bet— would it? He wasn’t involved when they first placed their bets on Robert’s identity (which he figured out already but it would have been nice to be included), but they weren’t exactly… friendly towards him back then.
That’s changed a lot since Shroud's been defeated.
They were…a lot nicer to him. Any jokes or comments aimed at him feel playful rather than actually hurtful like they used to. They were concerned when he got injured in a mission and he found himself not second guessing himself much in return. Waterboy would even go as far as to call the other Z-Team members his…friends.
Guess getting in a bar fight, eating 3AM tacos, and saving Los Angeles really does bring a group closer together.
“Me? Oh. Um, n-no.” Waterboy quickly responded to Punch-Up's question. “I’m not doin-betting…anything.” He gave a nervous laugh, averting his eyes to try and play off his uninvolvement.
The shorter man wasn’t fooled though, and turned his body to fully face Waterboy, brows furrowed in concern. “Why not laddie? It’s all a bit’o’fun. If none of us win, we’ll all just get our money back.”
Though, Punch-Up was a bit of an outlier from his fellow teammates in the way he treated Waterboy in the beginning. Sure he ribbed on him and made mean-spirited comments in front of the rest of the team, but in those first few shifts— whenever they were paired together— the shorter man was surprisingly…teacherly.
Sure he did it in his own brash way, but he was always telling Waterboy how to fight better; where his hands and feet should go for maximum defense; how to act on missions regarding civilians…
It was like the man had taken him under his wing, and Waterboy eventually noticed how the strongman’s comments became less and less hostile way faster than his co-workers. Waterboy would like to think their bond had only grown stronger after Shroud’s defeat.
Punch-Up snuck a glance at the rest of the team who Waterboy could hear were currently arguing about what did and did not count as “coercion”. Despite the two being less than 5ft away from the group, the others didn’t seem to pay them any attention— so Punch-Up looked back to Waterboy, lowering his voice anyway despite the semi-privacy. “If you want, I could split me cash with you, so you don’t gotta be spendin’ your own money.”
Punch-Up seemed to think that the reason Waterboy wouldn't participate was for monetary reasons— which was strange considering they all had the same pay check…
The questioning origins of all the money floated up again before getting pushed back down as Waterboy opened his mouth to clarify before the other man could hand over his money of dubious origin.
“Oh! N-no! I don’t need…m-money. That’s-it’s…not that...” Waterboy said lamely, his hands flopping down to his lap from where they were waving in front of him.
Punch-up simply raised a brow in response, waiting for Waterboy to clarify.
Sensing the other man wouldn't drop it until he explained, he slowly tried to put his thoughts into words. “I…I could never talk- fl-flirt with R-Robert.” He cringed at the mere thought of attempting to say a smooth pick up-line to the man. “I’ll- I’d just…mess it..um… make a mess- a f-foo-“
“Oh come now laddie, don’t be like that.” Punch-Up interrupted, already sensing the self deprecating path the taller man was rambling towards. “Romance ain’t all about how good yer pick up lines are. There are plenty of other ways to show your interest. Like…gifts! Or actions and such-like!”
Waterboy paused at that. Punch-Up…does have a point there. There were… what was it called again? The different…love languages?
The shorter man continued. “Take me and Coop for example,” He glanced towards the ex-assassin who was currently glaring cooly at Sonar. “She tried to stab me in the heart when we first met! Appeared in me window at night like a gorgeous angel of death.”
His gaze lost focus as he recounted the memory. “She never managed to cut through me skin…” He softened a bit, “…yet she still managed to take me heart.”
That was…concerning. Waterboy knew the two have dated (? Or maybe it was a friends-with-benefits situation? He couldn't remember…) in the past but he never heard of how they met, or even what their relationship was like.
Before he could think on that further, Punch-Up focused back on him. “I’m not saying you should stab the man, of course, but everyone is different when it comes to what gets their motor going. Perhaps Robert hates flirtin’- who knows.” He punctuated his surprisingly insightful advice with a shrug.
Despite Punch-Up’s encouraging words, Waterboy frowned.
Okay. Sure. Maybe he could gift-give his way into a pity date from Robert— but there was still one more giant issue beyond that…
“But! I…I’m…me!” Waterboy exclaimed in exasperation, gesturing to his lanky, wet body. He glanced up at the rest of the betting members, still absorbed in their separate conversation. “Robert would never wan- choose m-me! Everyone else is much more…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence in a single word. More confident? More attractive? More dry?
“Waterboy…” Punch-up looked up at him with a stern look. “Now don’t you go talkin’ yourself down like that.” He lightly punched his arm. “We’ve all seen how much more assertive you’ve gotten lately. So chin up, lad. You’ve still got a fighting chance.” He finished his sentence with a reassuring smile.
But Waterboy wasn’t sad. What he said was simply the truth. His brow furrowed in confusion at Punch Up’s belief that it wasn’t as he shook his head.
“But it’s true! Robert would never p-pick me if everyone else was also fighti- looking for his attention... I wouldn’t pick me.” He emphasized, eyes looking earnestly into Punch-Up’s.
Waterboy was never picked. Not for class teams; not for group activities; and definitely not for romantic pursuits. Never once had he had someone confess attraction to him that wasn’t 15 years ago and a joke her friends had put her up to. And he couldn’t really blame them entirely- it was hard to imagine how even he would handle dating someone like himself. His powers would prevent most inside romantic dates at restaurants or movie theaters from even happening— and any visit to the other's place was out of the question unless his partner was okay with wrapping everything they owned in water-proof plastic and towels. It would simply be a hassle to date Waterboy. That was the truth.
And that wasn't even considering the bet. His co-workers were all…striking. Attention grabbing. Even if Waterboy had the delusion that Robert might actually accept a date with him— any efforts to be noticed would be drowned out by his brighter, flashier, more shameless teammates. Waterboy may be more confident then he was a month ago, but not so much that he’d do something as embarrassing as try to make a bold move on Robert in front of all the others.
“It’d just be a waste of money…” Waterboy chuckled lightly, as if he was telling a joke Punch-Up was in on. “…And time.”
Waterboy stared down at the strongman in front of him, a small smile on his face as he stated this fact, trying to reassure him that he was okay not being involved this time.
All the shorter man could do was gawk at the dripping wet hero sitting in front of him, eyebrows shot to the high heavens. Eventually, he huffed a laugh and shook his head in slight disbelief. “Of course this is when you gain the balls to find a hill to die on…”
Fortunately, Punch-Up didn’t try to convince him again— and when Waterboy looked past him to the rest of the Z-Team, it seemed like they finished hassling out the details of the bet and had broken off into separate conversations.
The final betting pool amounted to around $1,584, with each participant placing down about $198 each. Waterboy felt his brain lag at the (very specific) high money amount. That was way more than the last bet they placed.
‘Again, where did this money come fro-‘ He cut that thought off short. Whatever. It wasn't his place to think about the possible shady sources of his co-workers' money.
They all headed out for lunch (Malevola startled. “Hey, what are we gonna say when Robert asks us why we were 10 minutes late for clocking out for break?” Invisigal shrugged after a thoughtful pause “…Team bonding?”), and by the time everyone came back from break to start the second shift of the day— pick-up lines, seduction tactics, and strategies were all lined up in most of the Z-Teams head's.
The rest of the day was filled with flirtations, compliments, and double entendres. Nothing that Robert wasn’t used to hearing, just slightly increased in frequency.
Waterboy, naively, thought that was as far as it was going to go. The first shift of today basically picked up where yesterday left off; with everyone making their usual banter with Robert have an extra flirtatious, slightly urgent edge to them. Then it…it just got worse.
Or…not worse. Just more…overwhelming.
It seemed that Punch-Up kept his conversation with Waterboy in mind, because this shift, instead of trying to seduce Robert through words, he resorted to actions. Started working extra hard on missions he was sent out on. Getting there faster; completing tasks efficiently; and most importantly: working twice as hard to succeed every call he was sent out on.
To his credit…it worked. Of course Robert took notice when a mission that was plummeting to failure, turned around into a success due to a single certain strongman’s willpower.
Waterboy’s earpiece cackled to life as Robert spoke up.
“Not to discourage putting in extra effort to catch the bad guys, but can I ask where this burst of motivation came from, Punch-Up?” His voice was filled with amusement and slight suspicion.
Waterboy could almost hear how Punch-Up puffed out his chest as he responded. “What? A man can’t show his appreciation towards his favorite dispatcher by beating up a bunch of criminals?”
A light huff of a laugh. “Appreciation…?” Said questioningly, but not discouragingly.
All Waterboy heard was static for a bit as Punch-Up gathered his words.
“Well, you know….” The strongman started, voice still light. “You’ve done a lot for us, Robert. The last couple of weeks couldn’t have been easy for you. Just thought I’d make your job a little easier for you. It’s the least I could do.”
It was said with a casual air, despite the truthful confession; perhaps to mask the vulnerability in the words.
Of course Robert understood anyways.
“Uh, wow. That’s…” He sounded floored as he searched for words. “…Extremely thoughtful of you.”
Waterboy could hear Robert’s soft smile as he spoke again. “Thank you, Co-…Punch-Up.”
Waterboy almost choked on his own water stream that he was currently spewing to try and clear a roadblock on the highway. Did Robert almost slip up and call Punch-Up by his civilian name? Maybe it was bound to happen sooner or later since they all started hanging out weekly and called each other by their actual names then— but it was pretty easy to step into the superhero mindset when at work and stick to their aliases. He’d think Robert, who had been in the superhero business for years at this point, would be the least likely of them to slip up like that.
Apparently, Waterboy wasn't the only one to think that, as he saw Flambae freeze in place out of the corner of his eye from where he was also trying to chip away at the roadblock.
Of course Punch-Up himself noticed too, taking on a sly tone as he spoke again. “Well…how ‘bout you thank me later with a dri-“
“Hey Robert— check this out.”
Was all the warning Waterboy got— both over the comms and to his right— as Flambae absolutely roasted the hell out of the remains of the giant highway sign that spanned across the lanes.
Waterboy yelped before quickly running over to make sure the fire didn’t spread elsewhere.
And that kicked off what Waterboy could only describe as absolute chaos for the rest of the shift. Seeing the success of Punch-Up, others obviously tried taking his lead. Of course, trying harder doesn't always mean success. Sometimes, it just means failing spectacularly worse than one normally would.
Sure, Prism prevented the criminals from getting away when she failed to stop them from blowing up the factory— but she also blinded almost every single civilian on the street in the process.
And the flirting, and comments, and double entendres just got…more explicit. More frequent. Perhaps a minute of silence on the comms would pass before someone would try flattering Robert, which just set off a chain reaction of people trying to one up the other.
It made Waterboy’s face feel hot just remembering the past few hours. Not because he was uncomfortable with what they were saying, but because of how bold they were in saying these things on open air comms that Waterboy knew were being recorded.
He had been on the Z-Team for almost a month— he’s gotten used to their vulgar and sexual comments— so it wasn’t that that bothered him, but the second-hand embarrassment was almost too much to bear.
Even if his fellow Z-Team members held no shame as they abashedly flirted and clawed for Robert’s attention— being the socially anxious wreck that he was, Waterboy couldn’t help but get embarrassed for them. Robert’s often confused responses or flat out rejections were not helping this feeling. He’s tuned out his earpiece a few times, just to get a reprieve from it all.
Which led Waterboy to where he was right now. By now the first shift was almost over, and as he sank into the rec room's plastic-covered couch he resisted the urge to run his hands down his face in some fit of unexplainable tiredness. He wasn't even participating in…The Bet, yet he felt emotionally exhausted just from listening to everyone’s grab for Robert’s attention.
Overstimulating. That was one way to describe how the last half of shift felt for Waterboy.
Though, that didn’t seem to be the case for the object of everyone's desire. Robert didn’t seem stressed at all about the increased attention he was receiving; shutting down or sometimes even bantering back to each member in that dead-panned voice of his like it was a normal Thursday.
Maybe he was just good at hiding it.
Or maybe this stress was something that only Waterboy was feeling.
He was starting to think it was the latter as he snuck a glance at the only other hero sitting in the room.
Despite also participating in the bet, Golem has approached the competition with his usual nonchalant, chill attitude. Sure he quipped his own one-liners and vulgar pick-up lines towards Robert throughout the day, but it was noticeably less frequent than his teammates. Waterboy knew Golem was never a construct of many words, but he just didn’t seem as… eager as the others in trying to capture Robert’s affections.
And yet, despite Golem managing to keep his wits, he never reacted as extremely as Waterboy has to the other things his co-workers have said or done.
Waterboy struggled to wrap his head around the construct's laid-back attitude around the whole situation. It seemed like Waterboy and the entire rest of the Z-Team were at two opposite ends of an emotional spectrum— with Golem being smack dab in the center.
The shift was coming to an end, and they were currently the only two in the rec room while everyone else was on the field either coming back or finishing up a mission. They both sat— Waterboy on the couch, Golem on the floor— facing the TV which was currently playing some old cartoon. Though, it didn’t seem like either of them were paying any attention to it as they listened to their co-workers in their ear.
Waterboy stared at the back of Golem's head, feeling emotionally drained. The other looked as sturdy as…well…a rock. How did he do it? Remain so…unconcerned.
After musing on it a bit more, Waterboy decided to just ask.
“What do you think of…all this? T-the bet?” He waved towards his earpiece in clarification.
Golem slowly turned to look back towards Waterboy. Then he shrugged. “I think it’s funny as hell.”
Waterboy tuned out the chatter that was still going in his ear. His face minutely twitching in confusion. He breathed out a faint, disbelieving laugh, “…Funny?”
Golem turned a bit more to be facing Waterboy. “Hmm…yeah. I’m not that desperate to be in a relationship— but these guys are tripping over themselves for one guy." He nodded solemnly as if he was passing Waterboy some ancient, holy ruling. "Shit’s funny.”
Waterboy's eyes drifted from Golem’s as he thought about that. He guessed…if he removed the fact that these were all people he knew; from an outside perspective— the whole situation was…pretty funny.
A bunch of ex-villans pettily squabbling and throwing cheesy pick up lines all for the chance to go out with… some guy. A legendary superhero, sure. But ultimately, just some normal, currently-civilian guy.
Waterboy sat still as the knowledge washed over him. He probably wouldn't stop cringing at the Z-Teams failed attempts at asking Robert out— but he could feel the deep mortification on behalf of his teammates loosen as he reminded himself that they were all friends at the end of the day, and that none of it was as life-threatening as his fight-or-flight instincts demanded that it was.
Still— though the second-hand embarrassment Waterboy felt about the situation faded— some uneasy discomfort lingered as he wondered what Robert thought of the unabashed flirting.
Surely it had to be annoying to Robert how his co-workers insistently chatted with him all day as he tried to just do his damn job— it would certainly annoy Waterboy.
But Waterboy wasn't Robert. He couldn't— shouldn't— assume that the dispatcher felt the same.
(But what if he did?)
A light pat on his head broke his deep introspection. As he looked up, he saw most of the Z-Team had returned— with the last two members coming through the door— and Golem hovering next to him.
“Don’t worry, Wetguy. It's all fun and games.” Was the last thing Golem said to him before Robert gave them the go ahead, and they all broke apart for break.