It had been a couple of weeks since Kevin had discovered he could talk again and he still hadn't told anyone. Part of it, he rationalized, was that he didn't want to lose any of the benefits. Babbling about space all day meant not being badgered for explanations or opinions. He didn't have to pick sides in an argument (unless it was space). And of course there were other little perks, too.

"Kevin! How's my favorite little space cadet today?" Irene beamed at him from behind the lunch counter.

He smiled back at her. "Space!"

"That's what I love to hear." She pretended to check and make sure no one was watching before handing him two cookies. "You find somewhere safe to put those, sweetie. A growing astronaut's gotta eat." She winked.

Kevin ratcheted up his smile. "Space! Sun! Pretty sun."

"Oh, you flatterer, you! Go and enjoy your lunch." Irene blew him a kiss.

He glanced at Rick, who was next in line and frowning.

"Now, is that fair?" Rick demanded. "I ask you. How is that fair?"

Behind him, Craig was scanning the room, eyes darting from side to side as if looking for something.

"According to statistics, 'fairness' is unfair 53% of the time."

"I knew it." Rick turned his attention back to Irene. "Why, hello there, pretty lady. Why don't you you share some of that sweet… uh, sweet… cookie love with me?"

Irene glared. "Stop holding up the line and move along." She slapped an Aperture Health Biscuit on his tray hard enough to slosh his soup. "Next!"

Craig jumped and slid his tray past with a muttered comment about milk and desperation.

"All right, Four-eyes," Rick said. "Did you manage to find us a table with all that oglin' you were doing?"

"Space dock," said Kevin, doing his own assessment.

"Kevin!"

He looked over to see Ellen from the secretarial pool waving at him. The other ladies were smiling, too; they'd saved a seat for him.

"Space buddies!" A glance at Rick showed that his expression was thunderous. He bit his cheek to keep from laughing. "Meeting space buddies for a space party!" He headed over to join the ladies.

"Yeah, you just go over there and enjoy your little space lady party," Rick muttered. "We'll be fine, thanks."

Lunch with the secretaries was always interesting. They probably knew more about what was going on in Aperture than some of the scientists. He ate and chattered about space and listened to the latest gossip.

It sounded as if the Pneumatic Diversity Vent project had hit a snag. They were still trying to locate a couple of the technicians, but there were a lot of pipes to go through and Ellen, at least, wasn't hopeful about their chances. The sentient coffee had been sighted in the North stairwell and employees were being advised to seek alternate routes to their destinations. There were also several stories about a recent hire who'd managed to get his tie stuck in the shredder three times in his first week, had somehow managed to set the water cooler on fire, and who kept hoarding bagels from the break room. He was a disaster waiting to happen and they hoped he didn't happen near them, even if he was kinda cute.

"Not as cute as our Kevin, though."

He felt a hand on his thigh and glanced up to see Tabitha smiling at him. When she saw him looking, her hand slid a little higher. He almost inhaled his cookie.

"Launch codes," he croaked, grabbing his milk and using the motion to pull his leg back to safety. Oh yes, there were definite benefits to being dismissed as a simpleton, but it had its dangers, too.

It wasn't that he objected to that kind of attention from women- he wasn't quite as innocent as they believed- but there was a fine line between them trying to take advantage of him and him taking advantage of them. His mom had raised him better than that. Besides, Tabitha was a little scary.

The conversation had moved on, but he was having trouble concentrating and was grateful when Ellen kissed his cheek and dismissed herself. It was the cue for the group to break up and gave him an excuse to leave.

"Back to space work!" Smiling, and with a nervous look cast at Tabitha, he dumped his tray and escaped back to the lab.

Rick was nowhere to be seen, but Craig was at the whiteboard, muttering over calculations and comparing them to the notes on his arms. Rick had asked him about that once and he'd said that he was far less likely to lose his arms than his notebooks.

Kevin went over to his station and started working on the latest set of calibrations for the Big Secret Project they were working on. He started to hum the Buck Rogers theme, mentally counting up until…

Craig huffed. "You realize the science on that show is wildly inaccurate."

"Space show." Kevin grinned down at the relay mechanism. "Space show in space."

"The cryogenics are so wrong it's laughable! There's no way he'd have survived that long!"

Kevin let him rant. Craig was just as much of a geek as he was, but had a harder time ignoring inaccuracies. The funniest part was that some of his "fixes" were at least as wild as anything that appeared on TV. Adding in the occasional "space" whenever Craig paused for breath, he adjusted his hold on the soldering iron… and dropped it.

"Shit!" He stuck his thumb in his mouth, nursing the burn. For something so small it was still excruciating.

Silence descended from the other side of the room and he realized what he'd said. He looked at Craig, who was staring at him.

"Did- did you just say…"

"Ffip." He took his thumb out of his mouth and held it forth for inspection. "Spaceship."

It was probably a long shot at this point, and given the way Craig was looking at him it was clear the scientist was trying to decide what to believe.

"Rocket thruster burn?"

Craig stood. "I'll get the burn ointment and the Band Aids."

Kevin started to breathe a sigh of relief.

"And then were going to talk."

He winced, trying to organize what he was going to say while his labmate rattled around with the medkit. Hadn't he been planning to say something anyway? And of the two he had a feeling Craig would take it better.

"Does it hurt?" Craig dragged over a chair and sat next to him.

Stricken by a sudden inability to say anything at all, he nodded and held out his hand.

"Good." The shorter scientist pulled the offered hand closer to examine the burn. "Pain means you haven't completely destroyed the nerves. In… in some extreme cases the victim doesn't even realize he's still on fire." He frowned and shook his head, giving Kevin a worried look.

He pretended to be engrossed in his injury. "Ow. Space ow."

Craig was frowning. "I think we can stop with that."

He hissed as Craig slathered disinfectant and burn ointment on the tiny blister that was starting to form then covered it with a bright yellow band aid. After a pause he moved the bandaged hand to his lap and looked his lab partner- his friend- in the eye.

"...Thanks."

Craig leaned back in his chair. "So you really can talk. Have you always been able to? Was this a joke? Or a- a test?"

"No!" Kevin saw the tell-tale tremor pass through his hand on the last word and rushed to reassure him. "No, it isn't a test. Or a joke. The accident- whatever it was- was real." A face flashed through his memory, but he ignored it, giving his scar a quick rub.

"I only started being able to talk again a couple of weeks ago."

"A couple of weeks?" Craig pushed his glasses up his nose, a crease forming between his brows. "You've been cured for a couple of weeks and didn't tell anyone? Didn't tell us?"

Kevin flushed with guilt. "Space sorry. I- I mean I'm sorry. See, it still comes out sometimes. But, uh… well, I was going to say something, and- and then it just seemed easier, uh, not to." He could feel Craig staring at him, but couldn't look. He poked at the edges of his band aid. This wasn't something that was going to go away and his friend deserved more of an explanation.

"Look, everyone likes Kevin the Space Cadet, the big silly goofball who can only talk about space- s-space- s- y'know, and doesn't seem to have a lot going on upstairs, right?" His smile was lopsided. "You know better, sort of, and so does Rick when he stops to think about it, but everyone else thinks I'm an idiot and I kinda... let them. It's less pressure on me and lets me concentrate on, well, space."

"You could have said something." Craig had his head to one side, watching him. He didn't sound angry, more… thoughtful.

Kevin laughed, trying to turn it into a cough. "I, uh, may have said a couple of things here and there. When you two weren't paying attention. Asteroid. I mean, sorry."

Realization dawned. "Is that why he keeps accusing me of calling him names? And-" He frowned. "And I guess some of the names he called me weren't him after all?"

"I'm sorry," he repeated, without really meaning it. "I know I shouldn't have done it, but it was kinda funny. You two don't need me to pick fights for you, anyway."

Craig harrumphed. "Fine. You had your fun. Now what?"

Kevin sighed. "I don't know. I kinda like the space cadet act. And you learn all kinds of interesting things when people think you're an idiot."

"Th-things?" Craig reached up, scratching his neck. "What… what kind of things?"

Kevin hadn't noticed the red mark until now. At first he was afraid it was another sign that something was wrong with his friend, but then he realized what it really was. He grinned. He'd known Craig was being secretive about something, but never would have guessed it was that. Rick would flip if he found out.

"Mostly stuff about this place. We're all pretty sure something bigger is going on here, but I think I've probably put together more of the pieces than anyone.

Tension drooped from Craig's shoulders. "Oh, that. I have a few guesses, myself, but we both know it isn't healthy to go nosing into things. Not if you still want to have a nose when you're done."

"Yeah, but who'd ever suspect everyone's favorite space, space, SPAAACE case?"

Craig frowned, but if he had any reservations about that, he didn't say anything. "So are you going to tell Rick?"

"Do you think I should?"

There was a thoughtful pause. "Conspiracies are proven to be more fun with smaller numbers. Maybe we should try something before you tell him. For research purposes." He leaned closer, and the two of them began to plot.

Unseen by either of them, Cave Johnson walked away from the lab, a look of narrow-eyed concentration hardening the lines of his face.