A/N: I, missingthepoint, a.k.a (Bleep) (Bleep) (Bleep) does not and will never own Disney's Meet the Robinsons. I am simply having fun with their characters, proposing different situations to put them through. Its fun; in other words don't sue.
This is a companion piece to Rebellion at its Greenest. Except, there is a pairing I don't think anyone has considered. I'm also a bit wary on this. I've been in a rut trying to write. So please, please, with sprinkles on to and a dash of eggnog, leave a review. It tells me in this crazy world that I am doing something right or wrong.
Constructive criticism is always appreciated and loved. Tough love is the best love, most of the time, for me.
Moving forward people!
P.S. Thank you again Shadowmistress. Your encouragement always helps me out!
Outside, the weather was of a moderate temperature. The sun had begun its descent over the city, slowly falling into the darkness of an impending night. Adults and children alike were preparing for the incoming darkness. Doors were beginning to close, children were running down the sidewalks to their homes, and cars were locked inside and out in case of the occasional burglar. Inside the Addams family home, on the edge of the city, onyx eyes stared off into the distance as the sun teased her with its diminishing presence. Minutes ticked on, and her heart pounded against her rib cage in anticipation. The afternoon was quickly reaching its end, and the evening was waiting cheerfully for it to reach its daily demise.
"Elizaybeth, Mother and Father wish to see us downstairs."
Elizabeth didn't move from her bedroom window. She nodded in response to her sister's words, and gave her a side way glanced to tell her to leave the bedroom before she did turn around. She would be down soon enough, right after her sister left the room. Her older sister, respectful enough of her sister's wishes, did as she gestured. Her loose, dark curls were the last piece of her presence that Elizabeth was able to see before she too made her descent down the rickety, creaky stairs. She listened intently to her sister's footsteps, and she heard how louder and louder they became as she descended lower and lower down the lengthy stair case. It wasn't long before her footsteps were no longer able to heard, and that told Elizabeth to descend as well.
Reluctantly, Elizabeth removed herself away from the window and the bedroom. Her eyes crossed over to the half opened door, and it dawned on her at what time it was getting close to. Downstairs, her mother and father would be fancily dressed for the evening. In her mind, she could imagine the outfits they were wearing. Her father's black hair would be slicked back with a more than needed handful of moose. Her mother's pure mink coat would smell of a fragrance that was a home made mixture of various flowers her mother grew in their green house in the back yard. They would be wearing one of their many, many best outfits.
Yes, Elizabeth could envision it as she descended the stairs. Her hand held tightly on the banister as she walked.
The more she walked, the closer she became to her parents. They entered her view slowly, but their fully attire soon came into her view in its entirety. She realized her imagination was accurate for the majority. Her father's hair was greased in moose, and the light, lovely fragrance came from her mother's white mink coat. Despite being in their middle age, approaching their golden years enough, Elizabeth was pleased enough to say that her parents' maintained the beauty of their marriage after producing four children.
Her mother, Lady Addams, was a woman of British nobility. Her black, wavy hair was rolled into a low bun that touched the crook of her neck. Underneath her white, pure mink coat she wore a black, mini dress that scarcely reached above her knees. A light amount of make up was applied on her face that provided a youthful but wise appearance. Her husband, Lord Addams, was a man who born into a mixture of European heritage. He was a petite man, several inches shorter than his wife, and the majority of his slick hair was black minus one, pure white streak that was visibly shone in the light. He appeared older than his wife instead of younger, and that was due to the bushy mustache that sat neatly cut under his nose. His outfit consisted of a black tuxedo with a black tie, and his black, leather shoes were shiny and squeaky. A quality over coat was slung over his shoulders, and one arm was wrapped around his wife's petite waist. In his other hand he held a cane that he walked with due to a skiing accident that had gone terribly wrong in his younger days, but his wife always joked about how her dearie over exaggerated.
"Look at my beautiful girls!" Lord Addams' loud voice rumbled in the Victorian style house, "It is a pity that you have decided not to attend the banquet. You would have stolen the show!"
"Oh Henry," Lady Addams cooed, "our daughters are getting older. They do not want to stay in a stuffy dancing room with a bunch of old farts. They want to have fun, and Lizzy is expecting a visitor tonight. Isn't that right dear?"
Lord Addams face turned a bright red, and he gave his youngest daughter a speculative look. "A visitor? While we are not here, why haven't I heard of this?" His dark green eyes turned glassy, and his hand tightened on his cane. He tapped it sharply twice on the wooden floor, and it echoed, much like his roaring voice, throughout the Victorian style home.
"Who is this visitor?" He asked sharply, "What is his name? Where is he from? Who are his parents?"
"Father, Mother didn't say if it was a boy or girl." Elizabeth stared at him blankly, her monotonous voice moving in even, solid tones, "Yes, it is a boy. His name is Stanley Brogstrom. He will assist me in my colonies' inventories."
At this, her father appeared confused and lost. His eyes went wide, and his mustache wiggled left to right as he tried to figure out the meaning of his daughter's words. His wife nudged him hardly in the side before he could speak any further, and the tone of her voice was the sort of voice that ended any sort of conversation or possible argument.
"Henry dear, his name is Stanley Brogstrom. His parents own the butcher shop on Main Street. That is where I buy those sausages you love so much." Lord Addams inched towards to opening his mouth after the painful nudge, but his wife gave him a dark glare that closed his mouth permanently on the subject. He laughed uncomfortably as he fidgeted across the floor, his shoes squeaking loudly.
"Isn't he in the National Science Club for Future Leaders with you as well Elizabeth?" The change of topic was brisk and immediate. This left her husband in a quiet stupor where he thought heatedly of the prospect of a young man in his home with his darling daughters, especially his dear, little Elizabeth.
Elizabeth nodded at her mother respectfully, "Yes Mother, he is. He's on the council of the club as well. Along with Francesca Framagucci and myself."
"Ah! The Framagucci girl, Francesca, what a lovely name. How has she been?"
"She has been well, I suppose. We're not entirely close."
Her mother's red lips formed an "Oh", and she smiled brightly at her two daughters. Easily, their attention pulled away from their youngest and onto their third oldest child. "Mary, do you have any plans tonight?"
In appearance, Mary Addams inherited the greater part of her facial and body structure from their mother. She was thin, and her height was taller than any average girl at their school. Her hair was a darker shade than her mother's, and it was pulled into a slick notion that traveled midway down her back. Like Elizabeth, her attire was reminiscent of gothic lolita nature, her skin was pale, and she wore light make up that brought out her long, pointed face. She lacked the warmth and care her mother held in her face, and she affectionately dubbed "Bloody Mary" by the rest of the members of the Addams clan for her perfectionist and stubborn personality.
"No Mother, not tonight." She sighed, "I will be studying for my final exams. They are going to be distributed next week."
"We have the utmost confidence in you, Bloody Mary!" He grinned widely at the images of another graduation flashing through his mind, "My darling, if you don't mind, may you please watch your sister and her...um...guest."
In a familiar manner, as close to perfection as possible, Mary nodded respectfully to her father, "Of course Father, she is my youngest sister. I will not let anything bad or inconvenient happen to her."
Lord Addams beamed at his daughter's words and grinned a pearly, proud father smile. Lady Addams stood beside her husband and rolled her eyes at the faux of it all. How easy it was to deceive her husband at times, but she blamed it on his paternal love and pride. It could be most devastating and trifling at times. Protection, pride, and paternal instincts had that loving but vexing nature that annoyed and endeared her at the same time. In a distant, years ago, way, Lady Addams was able to relate to her daughters for her father had done and acted the same way as her husband. He acted so especially when it came to her courtship with her future husband.
"Oh Henry, you mustn't worry so much!" She smiled softly, "Henry VII is here as well, and I am more than positive that he will not let anything happen to his baby sister, will he!"
They all went silent and waited for a reply in the large home. It was several seconds, but they were patient. A faint, quiet, barely heard "Yes Mother" was heard in the echoes of the wind, and Lady Addams smiled dearly at her hidden but very present son who resided in the attic of the home.
"Thank you Henry darling. Honey, we must be leaving. The banquet will be beginning soon."
"Yes, yes, we must!" He grinned a sly fox smile before he turned deadly serious, and the seriousness of his voice echoed in the wind that was able to reach the attic bedroom of his eldest and only son, "Before we go, remember the rules my precious children. No parties, no boys, for the exception of this Stanley, and do not go out into the gardens after night. Your mother has fed her plants for the evening, but if needed, please my daughters, call Henry to give the plants their steaks. They can be most volatile when hungry."
"Of course Father...," Mary spoke softly, "but I doubt that is necessary."
"Agreed. We have fed the plants more than enough since our childhood. There is no need to disrupt Henry. Mother has taught us enough."
"Now, now, enough of all this chitter chatter. Henry, the girls have heard this speech more than once, and Stanley is a good boy. Come come, it is getting dark!" Lady Addams tugged on her husband's arm, and he moved in rhythm along with her as they headed towards the front door, "We will be home by midnight. We love you, and do be careful! Don't open the door to strangers!"
They stepped into their old fashion but more than capable black cars and drove off into the distance. Dust and grass spun in their wake, and the two girls waved lazily at their parents as they disappeared into the growing night. They hoped, for their sakes if not their own, that banquet wouldn't be filled with old, British farts who didn't know how to have a good time. Their mother and father could be most eccentric in their playful antics, and it wasn't limited to formal banquets held by distant relatives from England.
"Well, it seems we have the house to ourselves." Mary sighed, "Do you hear that Henry? We have the house to ourselves. There is no need for you to stay inside!"
Elizabeth waltzed back inside, locking the door as she did, "You know he isn't going to come outside. He's working on some project of his. The reanimation of the human body."
Mary halted in her steps, the words slapping her in the face. The tiniest touch of hurt crawled onto her face, and she laughed softly at the words that brought back fond, hopeful memories of the past. "It was fun to dig up the bodies in the nearby cemetery, but the citizens didn't think so."
"You were claiming the corpses of their loved ones as your own," Elizabeth gave her a sharp tone, "did you honestly expect them to?"
She snapped her fingers, and a haughty looked came onto her face. "Ha! They never found a trace of evidence on us. They didn't even expect us!" They moved to kitchen where they began to pull out various goods to prepare for a meal. Beef, mash potatoes, peas, and creamed corn was Elizabeth's favorite meal, "You should take that sourpuss of a scowl of your face, it wasn't too bad."
"Too bad?" She scoffed at the words, "If you like to believe that, then go right ahead. As long as you and Henry are not going Mary Shelley's Frankenstein again, then I shall be fine. Our ancestors were prosecuted and burned at the stake for doing such atrocities."
"And modern society has gone a long way since then."
"That may be true, but I doubt a person with a human heart would appreciate the remains of their dearly departed ones being uprooted from the earth-"
"Or crypt. We have a family crypt."
"Or we have a family crypt to be used for science, entertainment, or both."
Mary held a handful of supplies. "Stop being so frigid, baby sister. It was our family crypt we were using." Her lips pulled into a tight, humorous smile, "But getting Great-great Grandfather Jedediah Addams out of his crypt took a lot of work."
"That's not funny Mary." She lined four plates on the table, "Father was worried that someone was trying to break into the family crypt."
Elizabeth hadn't meant to, but the look she gave her sister was a warning against any attempts. Mary recognized the look as well, and she sighed wistfully at the memories. "You know we didn't take any dead bodies besides animals we found on the side of the road...now stop acting skittish. Stanley's going to be arriving soon, and I know you want your alone time with him."
She didn't respond, not immediately. To an extent, the words her sister spoke of were true, but she was more than assured that their relationship was based solely on professional interests. She assisted him with his volcano projects, and he assisted her with her ant colonies. It was a win, win situation. Even when football called him away from his projects, he was still helpful to her cause. When she had the time, when she was needed, she did the same for him.
Besides, it wasn't as if Stanley had much of a choice.
She was the queen after all.
"Mary, you must understand that Stanley and I share a completely professional relationship."
"And Cornelius Robinson isn't a genius." She laughed softly, "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sister." She laid the ingredients out on the clean counter, and she moved quickly like her mother, her hands easily chopping and stirring ingredients together. It wasn't thirty minutes until the meal was completed, four plates steamed with mash potatoes, peas, creamed corn, and a hefty steak on the side. Elizabeth's stomach growled loudly at the sight, and she squeezed her stomach, hoping it would go silent.
"Be careful with the tray Lizzy," she heard her sister call out to her as she ascended the stairs, "I'm not fixing another plate for you if you trip."
Elizabeth Addams was one of five children. Fortunately, she had been born the youngest.
She waltzed down the hall; her hands carried the heavy tray of food with elegance and grace that had been taught to her since birth. It was in the middle of the hall, the end was Mary's bedroom, and the beginning was her own. In the between of the two bedrooms, there were two separate ones, identical in structure and color, that once belonged to the elder sisters of the household, Katherine and Anne. Elizabeth had no intention stopping at her sisters' bedrooms. In the middle of the hall, a long, golden rope dangled in her view.
"If you want to eat, then you must let down the stair case, Henry." Her monotone was etched with tender frustration, "I cannot hold this for long."
Instantly, a stair case fell at her feet. Dust flew from the corners, and Elizabeth moved several feet away from it. Henry was a tall man, like his mother. Along with the rest of his family, his skin was pale and possessed an abnormal glow. His black hair touched his shoulder blades, and his eyes were a dark green. He wore old clothes that didn't fit quite right, and his bare feet slammed on the wooden stairs with little velocity. Dark bags were under his eyes, and it seemed that his insomnia was finally taking a toll on his health. He walked with elegance, and the muscles in his body appeared toned and refined. He stopped at the end, his bone like fingers stretched out to receive his meal.
"Lizzy, you're wrong." His dark green eyes narrowed at her suspiciously, "And you know it."
Lizzy could have answered him. She could have told her brother that he was mistaken in his thoughts, but the words could not leave her mouth. Her tongue had gone surprisingly dry, and she detached herself from a growing one sided argument. When he had taken the plate from her tray, lessening the weight considerably, his eyes glittered in the dim light.
"I see many things."
"So, you're telling me that you do leave the confinement of the attic sometimes."
He mused on her words, "Certain times. Not always. Because I have confined myself into a dark place doesn't mean I don't know the touch of light. I know you, Lizzy, and you are wrong for what you are doing."
"I believe it is none of your concern, Henry," she snapped icily, "and what I do…it is in my control. I have everything in control."
"Yes…control," the word curled on his tongue, "dominance, it's the same thing, isn't it? Well, you can't have dominance on everything and everyone, Lizzy. You've got to learn to let go."
She glared darkly, "What would you know?" Her eyes flashed, and if they were not related by blood he would have been terrified. The glare was completely reminiscent of the ones who would give to his adversaries when he was in school, and he smiled a gingerly, knowing smile at her before turning his back to her, returning to his domain.
"I know much more than you think, Little Lizzy."
Lizzy loved her only, oldest brother. They were similar in many ways, they were able to communicate without the usage of words, and she was more than her brother, so much more than that. At times, when he felt it necessary to be the wise man, he was absolutely infuriating! Using his simple, humble language he talked her down against any wrong doing she had done or was planning to do. His voice was soft and hard at the same time. He was able to use his voice to sooth a crying child, calm a rising anger, or do both at once. It was admirable and annoying. Lizzy could never detail which one she preferred, infuriating or admirable. Normally, when he spoke, he spoke only the truth and what he felt was right.
Dominance.
Nonsense! She was a queen, in a figurative sense. She had the right to have control of her subjects. When a drone went out of line, or in recent instances, bit her repeatedly, she decided on two options. Option number one was setting it free to live its short lifespan in the garden. Option number two was isolating it for several weeks until it learned how to behave itself.
Lizzy hardly used option number one.
Maybe…her eyes glanced at her recently bitten middle finger…she should let it go.
Drone 2011's behavior had gotten worse over the past several months.
His bites were getting stronger.
She wasn't sure how long her mother's home made herbal ointment would last. It took up to two months for the process to be completed. It worked wonders on her puncture wounds, but she didn't know how long she could keep reapplying the ointment before it ran out.
"I'll just ask Mother to make more when she returns." She placed the tray on her desk, "Yes, Mother will make some more, and that little bugger of a drone will obey."
"He will obey."
The word echoed in her empty bedroom, and she swore she could have seen the spike in production in her numerous large ant tanks in her bedroom.
Stanley Brogstrom arrived at the Addams household at eight thirty in the evening. Night had completely taken over the skies, and bright stars dotted the horizon as well. Mary answered the door, and she gave him a happy, flirtatious smile before "Oh, Lizzy's waiting for you upstairs, Stanley. She has a plate for you as well. Enjoy." When he smiled a half full but sweet smile at her, she flushed red in embarrassment, and giggled to the study located in the downstairs area. He jogged up the stairs without breaking a sweat. He had climbed the stairs many times in the past, and it was the stairs he accounted for his sudden lost of weight. The more he climbed, the more fat was burned, and it made it easier for him to join the high school football team.
"Stanley…"
"Oh!" He grinned to no one in particular, "Hi, Henry. Still in your room?"
"If you're looking for Lizzy, she's waiting for you in her bedroom, but make sure you cross over to the next room. That will be where she's doing inventory."
"Thanks for the help Henry. See ya…um…hear ya later!"
"No problem. You're going to need it."
He never knocked. It wasn't that he was impolite or inconsiderate, no; he was very polite and extremely considerate. It was just that he hardly ever thought that Lizzy wanted to him to knock. At the beginning, when the pendulum first started to swing, he had knocked. He knocked always, but her face turned sour. She would always say in a bitter, monotone, "When you knock, you disrupt me. You know what you're coming for, just come in." When he was at her door, unless it was locked, he would open the door without a single thought. She would be by her ant colonies. Her eyes would be glued, quickly counting each one by Drone number, and the light of her room, bright and strong, would be perfect for her facial structure. A certain, heavenly glow was brought to her features in the light, and it made him question why she preferred the dark.
Because the light really suited her.
"Lizzy, ready for the inventory? What are you doing?"
All he heard was, "You are late."
"Sorry," he chuckled nervously, "my mom had me working over time. But I'm here now, so what are we doing first?"
"We will do as we have always done." Her eyes crossed his as she past by several tanks, "Maybe we can teach you how to lie better." Stanley's face flushed red, and Lizzy had to force a potential smirk behind her cold façade because she didn't want him to know how cute she thought he was when he tried to lie. Her potential smirk faded from her thoughts when she remembered her reason for feeling more cross than usual. Calming herself back to her personal, she didn't speak until Stanley finished devouring his meal. He ate hungrily, and pieces of steak, peas, and mash potatoes made loud smack noises as they slammed against the glass tanks. She hated it when he did that, she hated it terribly. He knew it, he knew it terribly.
When he was finished and the mess cleaned off his face, she wasn't surprised to see that the cream corn had gone untouched.
She glared and frowned. Sometimes, she wanted to curse his kindness.
The clock had made its ten o'clock point. The loud ding, dong screamed throughout the house, but neither teen was able to hear it because they were too involved in the counting and behavior analysis of the drones.
"Drone 2011 bit you again?" He couldn't hide the surprise in his voice, "This is the fifth time this week, and we're only on Tuesday!"
"Yes, I am aware of that."
He was able to tell the snippiness in her voice in spite of her monotonous drag. He tapped his fingers on the counter uneasily, "Do you-do you know what is causing Drone 2011's behavior?"
"He is only a rogue drone," she replied bitterly and surely, "he will be dealt with as all rogue drones have been in the past."
"Isolation isn't working, is it? He's been in isolation for weeks now, and he bit you-again."
"Yes, I am aware of that."
The strain in her voice was a warning, but the warning had gone unnoticed. "Yeah, maybe you should let it go, because it's not working. He wants his freedom."
"He's a drone. He has to obey the queen. I am the queen," her voice had grown tense, and the words he was speaking sounded too familiar. It had to end. She had to end it. He didn't give her the chance. His words became more pronounced, harder, and he was staring her down on the other side of the counter in her bedroom. His crystalline blue eyes clashed with her onyx eyes, and she felt a funny feeling swelling in her stomach that she couldn't define.
"You don't know anything about my ants." She whipped her thick, long braided hair around her shoulder, "Do not act like you do."
The insult stung him. "I'm not!" He shook his head, "I'm not. I'm only saying that you have the tendency to be controlling, and you like things to go your way all the time."
"I do not."
"You do so."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
It was no longer about the ants. Their lungs forced out angry shouts, and they inched over the counter, glaring angrily at the other. There must have been something in her eyes that made him lean away. The fiery glare in his eyes turned soft, and he moved away from her nose that was only inches apart from his. He sighed a heavy sigh, and he moved his glasses to and from his face. He wasn't sure of where the argument was going, but he had never been a fighter when it came to Lizzy. She had a way of tiring him out before they could get started, but the fire had been set, and Lizzy wasn't going to stop. Not now.
She was losing control.
In a small way, so was he.
"I don't get everything I want." Then she laughed a bitter, humorless laugh, "I hardly get anything I want. If I do get it…I have to work for it, Mr. Brogstrom."
The fighter inside was slowly edging away, but some part of it remained. Stanley features softened even more without losing the reaming bits of the fighter. Although her facial expression didn't show it, she wouldn't allow it; she inched away from his closing features. The heavy set, clumsy, insecure boy no longer existed. He was replaced with a confident, still clumsy, and handsome young man. His fat was burned into solid muscle, and it made him wide appearing. In middle school he hit a sudden growth spurt, and he was at a height where he taller than the most boys in the school.
"Then," his eyebrows curled up, "what do you have to work for, Lizzy?"
"They make such a cute couple."
"Good thing he didn't ask that Addams girl. Freaks me out."
She had to have control. She was the queen. She needed the control.
With him, control was so very little.
The words came simple and fluidly. Like water, they streamed out of her mouth, and she realized she had said them when she saw the pitiful look on his face.
"You're still taking Francesca Framagucci to the Spring Fling aren't you?"
Stanley's throat went dry, and he didn't know what to say. Instead, he nodded dumbly at her words. Then the guilt began to rise from the pit of his stomach, and he lowered his head in shame. "Yes, she…she said yes right before I left."
"So, you were with her," she sighed, "asking her out to the dance."
"Yes."
There were many things she could have done. She could have released her ants on him. She could have used her words to cut him down. She could have screamed and cried. She could have, she could have done so many things, but she was hopeless. It was a hopeless case, and while Lizzy took much delight in having control and dominance, she knew there was no point in trying to fight.
Francesca Framagucci…the prettiest girl in school…consort to one of the most popular boys in school.
Perfect sense.
It made perfect sense. The logic behind it, how could she deny it?
She said nothing. She moved quickly, she scrambled for her papers, she scrambled for her timer, and she began to move like the world was going to end. Boxes were in the corners of her bedroom, and she pulled them out to place her things in. Stanley watched in dismay as she ignored his presence. He reached out to her, but a sharp glare in her eyes held him back.
"You can leave." She stacked files after filed in one cardboard box she pulled from her closet.
"Lizzy, I didn't mean to hurt you, I didn't." The more he spoke, the more pleading his words became, and he knew that he had mistaken. He didn't understand why he made the mistake, not entirely. He felt his heart constrict as he envisioned the walls of her heart rebuild themselves around it.
"I said for you to leave." He opened his mouth to object, but the cold glare and turned back snapped his mouth shut before he could utter the words. He lowered his head and turned around, mouthing a soft apology, and leaving the room without another word. Outside from her bedroom window, Lizzy continued to handle her business. She cleaned the mess she made with her measuring sticks, papers, and other scientific utensils she used when conducting tests on her colonies. She moved closer to her bedroom window, holding onto a heavy box, and her eyes watched him hurry off into the darkness, his shoes filling up with dirt.
She expected him to leave. She expected him to give in to her words.
He stopped at the end of the trail that led to the city. His blond curls bobbed as he turned his head directly to her bedroom window, and his eyes met hers in a bittersweet manner that touched her heart in a way that had never been touched before.
No.
Briskly, she moved away from the window, closing the curtains once she had the chance.
She was the queen.
He was the drone.
She had the control.
He did not.
Honestly, did she really need the control? Every once in the while, could she afford to hand it over to be just the girl?
To kiss…to dance…to be happy…
She was always happy with him, whether she expressed it or not. She was happy with him.
Did he know that? Did he see the faintest glow of brush that touched her cheeks whenever his hand passed on hers? Did he notice how her words had a habit of stumbling when he babbled excitedly about his volcanoes, not football? Did he notice…did he ever notice? Couldn't he see? Was he so blind in his infatuation of Francesca Framagucci to see her little feelings for him?
Was he?
Was he?
Yes, he was.
It didn't matter, not anymore that is. He would attend the Spring Fling with the lovely Francesca Framagucci on his arm, and she would be in the company of her beloved ants, her subjects.
"First things first," she whispered as she moved the empty tank where Drone 2011 glared spitefully at her, "I must tend to you."
The sole black African fire ant, formerly known as Drone 2011, was never seen or heard of again.
Possibly, his queen was too tired to concern herself with him any longer.
Dominance at its blackest, it leaves a bitter taste on the tongue.
A/N: This may be considered crack, but the idea of this pairing came from Meet the Robinsons video game where Lizzy and Stanley are the antagonists. They do not like each other at all. If things turn out well, this may or may not happen. I believe Stanley would be a heavily doting husband. Just think about it.
Again, thank you to those who read, review, and do anything else of the sort.
I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday(s). A new year it is!