Thanks to Larry's Obsession, Charlotte's Loss, by The Enduring Man-Child. A considerably better fic than this, but while reading it, the title to this one popped into my head and I just had to write it.
And thanks, of course, to O. Henry.
Please read and review.
Gift of the Dungeon Magi
I.
"Don't start, Larry!"
But it was too late. Despite Charlotte's remonstrations, he had started. He couldn't help himself. By the moons of Ios, he would woo her.
He wandered aimlessly among the aisles at Heroes and Heroines, examining the new titles but not really seeing any of them.
He supposed it could hardly be honestly described as wooing - but why not? Dating was for ordinary men, and sounded so… routine. Whereas, for a guy like himself whose closest previous perihelion to a girl was that passing pass at Kim's classmate Bonnie, well, wooing seemed more… meaningful.
It was all Ron's fault. Ron had drawn his attention to girls. And so, inevitably, to Charlotte.
Blast Ron, thought Larry, for planting this malefic seed in his brain - the thought of real-world girls (instead of the brass-bustier-clad she-warrior temptresses on display at Heroes and Heroines). He wasn't like Ron, that smooth-talking ladies' man, or like cousin Kim, blithely heading into real-life danger despite long odds.
For nineteen years he had, with utmost confidence and not a drop of fear, bested every opponent and overcome every tribulation which Dungeon Masters, G.O.D.s, TimeWeavers, and so forth, had thrown at him. Without hesitation he had triumphed and moved on, with nary a glance back. But now he truly was outside his element.
Where was that old Larry confidence? The essential Larry-ness?
The movie was the first step, a prologue, if you would. Was there any possibility for a relationship? Early indicators had been unpromising, at best. Luckily none of his posse had noticed the botched attempt in the darkened theater. The repercussions for his alpha dog status would have been devastating.
Why, oh why, were there no romance-focused RPGs whereby he could have become, over time, a Master Casanova or a Higher-Plane Ladykiller?
No, he would have to fall back onto his natural wit, talent, and ingenuity if he were to triumph in this particular scenario.
He thought all this idly while purusing the Green Llamas on display in the second aisle. He suddenly realized his finger was in his ear again. He snapped his arm down to his side and surreptitiously glanced right and left to see if anyone had noticed.
"Hey Larr! What's going on?" The familiar nasal voice of Ned Erlander interrupted his woolgathering. Ah, trusty Ned. If there was one person who knew less about girls - despite his prime vantage point on those mysterious creatures from the Bueno Nacho counter - it was surely Ned.
"Greetings, Warkon. How fares the Cerulean Empire?"
"Justice reigns supreme, O Most High One! I've finally bested the Portal Guardian and made my way back to Earth Prime! I now rule an eternity of peace from a throne of pure energy! So, yeah, pretty good."
Ned sighed.
"Could have used your help in the final battle, though, Elder. Where were you?" Ned's face grew thoughtful. "Where have you been keeping yourself lately?"
Where, indeed, thought Larry. No way was he going to tell Ned. "Wooing Charlotte DeYoung." Not by the steaming pink oceans of Rendeb IV would he reveal this secret until he knew where things stood.
But of course the fact was that he had been pursuing Charlotte with the single-minded focus that had made him the youngest Temporal Manipulator in the history of "Peasants and Parsecs."
With a little advice from Ron (oh, to have Ron's knowledge of the ways of the fairer sex!), he had been working steadily. Flowers. Movies. Reading books about relationships. (Though it was a great disappointment to find out that Men are From Mars, Women Are From Venus was a work of non-fiction. What a tease!) Even a couple of disastrous attempts at dinner dates.
He couldn't figure out what kept going wrong.
In fact it wasn't clear that anything was going wrong, but Charlotte was always so... disdainful. What did she really think? Did she like him? She took the flowers, went on the dates, had even accompanied him to a couple of conventions.
(Though not, as yet, in matching his-and-hers Dungeon Magus costumes, as was his secret dream. Though that, he supposed, would have given away that they were dating, which it seemed they had both tacitly decided to keep to themselves.)
And yet – months, now, since they started dating - he still awaited some sign that she felt about him as he felt about her. For, even as he feared that the relationship wasn't going anywhere, he knew it just had to be right. Where else could he find a girl with whom he had so much in common? He knew, now, that all their squabbling and sniping was just the duality of their linked souls, evenly matched, dancing the eternal dance of the ruby swords before taking that final plunge into the molten sands of Algarath together!
Or something very like that, anyway.
And now Christmas was very, very close – and he had had nothing suitable for a gift.
"Uh, hello, Larr? You ok?"
Ned's voice savaged the Technicolor imagery of his mind and snapped him back to reality.
Cursed, cursed reality!
"Oh yeah, of course, Ned, just contemplating the latest selection of titles. Nothing of note, I see."
"Oh no?" Ned's face lit up. "Wait 'til you see what came in this morning! Robert's got it under the counter."
"Ahem," they heard from the front of the store, as a stentorian throat-clearing interrupted their chatter.
"Begging your pardon, O Cosmic Vizier," Ned corrected himself, averting his eyes from the grandee in question.
Robert. What a showoff.
The thought occurred to Larry that he wasn't in the mood to play games.
How ironic.
He played along nonetheless.
"Fellow Imperial Senator, I bring you greetings and ask your permission to review the contents of the treasury."
Robert, a.k.a. the Cosmic Vizier, reached under the formica-topped counter and slowly, gently, with immeasurable care, brought out a plastic-sheathed comic book.
Team Unusual Number One?!
In a moment of breathtaking clarity, Larry saw all. How he would win Charlotte's heart, how he would ensure that she could no longer deny the truth of what existed between them.
Team Unusual Number One!
Everyone knew of Charlotte's obsession with TU. And everyone knew – due to her incessant grousing – that she didn't have the first issue.
"How much?" Larry could feel his palms grow moist with desire for that simple, saddle-stitched collection of pulp.
Robert regarded him from under heavy, lidded eyes. "I always thought the Green Llama was more your cup of tea, Galactic Elder. In fact, I recall your berating, on more than one occasion, the Steel Sorceress for her interest in Team Unusual."
Robert's head drew back a millimeter and he looked intently at Larry.
Alert! Alert! Operational security compromised! Evasive maneuvers!
"Yes, well, tastes change, Vizier," said Larry, exuding nonchalance. "As you may have noticed, it was my birthday not long ago. Then again, I was really asking out of idle curiosity. Indeed, TU is not quite my cup of tea. So, anyway... How much?"
"Three hundred and fifty dollars."
Larry's eyes bulged. "$350? For a lousy copy of Team Unusual? Outrageous! Did you learn your pricing strategies from the thieves that make up the Denebian Trader's Guild?"
"Whence I learned pricing is not your concern, Taikon Warrior." Robert's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Especially since you are so clearly not interested in the item in question. No matter. Soon enough it will sell. It will make a lovely Christmas present for someone."
II.
Larry lay at home on his bed, forlorn. He derived no comfort, found no solace, in the familiar array of posters, novelizations, and figurines that peopled his room.
One burning thought consumed him.
$350 for that comic book?
Oh, the humiliation. To be brought so low by love of a woman. Even to be contemplating spending that kind of money on … Team Unusual?!
And yet….And yet. Better to have loved and lost, wasn't that the expression? If you're not going to play to win, why bother to play at all?
He stood up. Strode across the room. Hands shaking, he reached up, took a figurine off the shelf, and briefly clutched it to his chest – before setting it gently, lovingly into his backpack. Then he reached up for another. And another.
III.
Christmas eve fell on a Saturday.
Larry had made arrangements to meet Charlotte that morning at the Pancake Cottage, from where they would proceed to Heroes and Heroines for the annual "Grinch Who Stole Christmas" RPG play-off. (And how he was determined to crush those simple-minded Whos!)
But first. This.
He would prove to Charlotte how much she meant to him.
He realized that he was staring at her. She stared back. An awkward moment passed over their plates, stacked high with pancakes, bacon, and eggs.
"I got you something."
They gasped at the simultaneity with which the words emerged from their respective mouths.
Larry – be bold, Warrior! – reached down onto the bench beside him and brought forth a slim package. He pushed it across the table to her, sure to avoid the spots sticky with syrup.
"Open it."
Charlotte looked at him, brow furrowed, but instead of the sarcasm for which he had been bracing, responded simply by tearing off the paper to find, of course, TU #1, all $350 worth, in near-mint condition.
Her hand leapt to her mouth and she let out a little "eep" – but clearly, from her expression, not of joy or excitement, but of - horror?
Larry hadn't known quite what to expect from such a generous move on his part, but not this. He stared at her, confused.
"Oh Larry!" Tears welled in Charlotte's eyes.
"You need to know what you mean to me, Charlotte." Larry couldn't believe he was actually speaking such words out loud, but…. Go for it. Direct line of attack.
"Oh Larry. This is so sweet. It would have… would have… completed my collection." Charlotte began sobbing.
Larry was stunned by her tears. Abort! Abort!
Then his brain picked up on her words.
"Would have? I know for a fact – because we fought about your ridiculous obsession so many times – that you own all of the original TUs except for this one. Your collection is now complete! What is your damage?"
Charlotte pulled off her glasses with one hand and wiped her eyes with the back of the other.
"No, Larry. They're all gone."
"Gone?" Larry couldn't believe his ears. "Was there a fire? Burglary? Silverfish?"
"No, Larry." Charlotte seemed to have composed herself, then reached onto the bench next to her and handed him a small package. "I sold them. So that I could buy you… this."
With shaking hands, Larry unwrapped the paper. There, before him, pristine in plastic and cardboard, lay… the President of the Bernaless Senate. In his ceremonial gold cloak.
Larry reached across the table and enfolded Charlotte's hands in his own.
"It's beautiful. Truly a worthy gift for one who would be paired with the Steel Sorceress."
Charlotte blushed.
"And a worthy centerpiece around which I can rebuild my Ios collection."
It was Charlotte's turn to look confused. "Rebuild? But I was sure you had almost all of them!"
"Had, Charlotte," Larry replied, digging into his breakfast, carefully building a balanced mouthful of pancake, egg, and pork. He placed it in his mouth and then, from around it, mumbled, "Traded them to Robert. For the comic book."
Charlotte looked shocked.
Larry just smiled, then carefully set the figurine and the comic book aside.
"Why don't we just put these away for a little while and enjoy our pancakes."
He smiled shyly at Charlotte, buck teeth protruding; she shyly smiled back, her incisors a match for his. In silence they ate, occasionally glancing up at each other, contemplating the joys and terrors of real life, as a gentle snow began to fall outside.