AN: Today's fic is "You Gotta Go Father", a pointed fic about how Norm is absolutely Heinz's son no matter what Heinz says. Also Perry's son.
I'd like to take a moment to thank all my lovely reviewers. And to Privet iz Rossii in particular (since I can't respond privately), thank you so much for the review! I appreciate the effort you had to have gone through, to not only read this through automatic translation, but also comment in a language you're still learning. Your review was easy to understand, so the translator did its job. I can only hope the same happened to my fics on your end.
On with the story!
Something changed while you were on jury duty. You're still not sure what, but Norm's been acting strangely ever since and pretending he's not and that is suspicious.
For one thing, he's stopped insisting you're his father. Which you're glad about, because you're not, but it's different and you don't trust it. In your experience, different means something's about to bite you in your Heinz hiney. You have the backstories to prove it.
It's not even that you had to rebuild him. Again. Replacement squirrels have never affected his personality before so clearly that's not what's going on now, and you followed your original plans for the rest. Without the weapons he decided to add, because you don't need him destroying the Tri-State Area before you can rule it, but that was it. Same design as always.
Either way, you're keeping him out of the line of fire from now on. Who knows what Perry the Platypus would do to him next time?
You try to put it out of your mind and focus on your schemes, giving Perry the Platypus his usual monologue before he thwarts you, again, because that's what he expects from you. Trap, monologue, scheme, fight, then he wins and you curse his name. A routine.
Except he has been acting differently too, rushing through your fights so he can go who-knows-where. It's almost like he thinks he has somewhere better to be.
Midway through today's scheme, Norm walks in, the way you specifically told him not to. "Are you finished yet, Dad?"
"I told you, I'm not-"
Perry the Platypus hits you in the mouth, and then, keeping his cute little hand there, turns to Norm and chirrs. At Norm. Not you. Was Norm even talking to you at all?
"I'll go and get my baseball glove!" Norm says, more cheerful than normal, which is a lot, then turns and leaves.
Yanking Perry the Platypus's palm away, and scraping fur off your tongue, you glare at him. "What was that all about, Perry the Platypus? Have you been talking to my giant robot man behind my back? Are you being a bad influence on him? You are, aren't you?"
He snorts, and you've at least known him long enough to figure out what he means when he's rolling his eyes like that. At least I'm an influence.
"Are you trying to say I'm not?" you demand, hands on your hips. "Because I am, I'm a good influence - by which I mean Evil, ugh, you know what I mean - because I'm his..."
Raising an eyebrow when you don't finish that thought, he gestures with his hand. Go on.
You're not falling for it. "I'm not his father, Perry the Platypus," you say, folding your arms. "Why would you- That's- He's a robot, he doesn't have a father."
Mouth twisting in what you wish you couldn't identify so easily as disappointment, he turns and walks away, without even thwarting you. He doesn't need to. You abandon your scheme without a second thought and run after him, demanding an explanation.
Taking over the Tri-State Area can wait. This is more important.
"I'm not jealous, either," you say to Perry the Platypus's shoulders as he throws a ball to Norm, out at the local park. Since when do they go to the park? "I'm not." Maybe if you say it loud enough you can convince him. "Why would I be jealous of this?" They're only throwing a ball back and forth, it's not like it means anything.
"It's okay, sir," Norm says, tossing the ball back, like he's been doing for the last five minutes. "Not everyone can be as good a father as Perry the Platypus."
Father, huh? You huff, stomping over to the spare catching mitts Perry the Platypus left out where someone could trip on them. Why does he need so many? "You want a good father?" you fume, tugging one on. "I'll show you a good father, just you wait."
Twisting around to face you, Perry the Platypus rolls his eyes and tosses you the ball, which you fumble a little but don't drop, and jerks his head at Norm. Prove it.
So you do.
At least, you throw the ball, in the approximate direction of your giant robot man, and it doesn't go too far wide. He catches it, anyway. Which is better than you thought your first time playing catch would go, so you'll count that as a win.
He tosses it back and, well, you're glad for the glove. Only reason you could catch anything.
Perry the Platypus calls a halt to the game, finally, after two hours, and you flop onto the ground. "Oh man," you groan, throwing an arm over your eyes to protect yourself from the afternoon sun, "who would have thought playing catch was so exhausting?" Was that longer than it normally goes, or are you just out of shape? You have no frame of reference for this.
"Thank you, Dads," Norm says, and you're too tired to correct him. "That was a deeply satisfying emotional experience. And just in time for afternoon tea!" Then he walks back home, leaving you alone with Perry the Platypus. Well, alone is a strong word, there's still people around, but they're so far away they don't count.
"Stop looking at me like that," you grumble at your nemesis, not bothering to move. It doesn't take an evil genius to know he's got some sort of smug look on his face.
A weight drops onto your stomach, crushing all the air out of you, and you wheeze, glaring at him. Of course it's him, sitting on your lungs like some sort of smugapus. He just loves to thwart you, doesn't he?
You groan, again, and drop back down to the ground. "Curse you, Perry the Platypus." That should make him happy, right?
No reaction. Not even a twitch. He's just sitting there, on your chest.
"Really? You're not even going to leave? You thwarted me good and proper, with the- with the whole playing catch thing, and you always leave when you're done, so what gives?"
Letting out a loud sigh, at least by his usual quiet standards, he shifts his weight, leaning over to flick at your nose. It stings.
Eyes watering, you sit up, shoving him off. "Just go already. And stop messing with my robot man, I don't want you breaking him again, you've already done enough damage. I don't know what you were thinking, treating him like a..."
He raises an eyebrow, arms folded. How were you planning to finish that?
"Shut up," you mutter, turning your back on him. "Shut up is how." You don't need him judging you. He does enough of that during your monologues.
Moving back into your line of sight, he keeps staring, like he doesn't have anything better to do. Why hasn't he left already? Even when you turn away again, he follows you, staying in view with that judgemental eyebrow of his.
Can't he let you have this one thing? It's not even Evil, you don't know why he's so pushy. Literally pushy, he's getting right up in your space now, shoving at your shoulders.
You push him away and climb to your feet, brushing yourself off. "I don't know why you care, he's just a robot-"
Next thing you know, you're on the ground again, face down, with your arm pulled up behind your back and his weight between your shoulders. And he's growling. Definitely a growl, you've been pinned down by furious animals often enough to recognise that sound.
"Get off me!" you demand anyway, squirming. Why isn't he listening? "You don't seriously think he's your son, do you?"
All he does is shrug. You don't even need to see it to know that's what he's doing, with the way his weight shifts above you, you've known him long enough. He wants a father.
You let out a bitter laugh, pulling at his tight grip. "And you thought that father might as well be you? I hate to break it to you, Perry the Platypus, but he's a robot. I didn't program him to have feelings."
Twisting his little hand into your hair, he slams your face into the ground a few times, like he thinks that'll hurt. Which it doesn't. The ground is too soft, with the grass and the dirt and the not metal, to really do anything. You point that out to him and he just does it again.
"Why do you care so much?" you say, when he stops trying to get grass in your eye. And succeeding, from the way your eyes water, but you've had worse. "That's not like you, caring."
He growls again, flipping you over to glare into your eyes, and there's a new note in his voice this time. Hurt. Sadness. Fury, and not the fury you normally see from him when he's punching your face in. Of course I care, I'm great at caring, you hear in the way his hands twist into your shirt. I care about you, don't I?
But he shouldn't, you almost say. You're not worth it. And neither are your inators, and what is Norm but another inator? The words press against the back of your teeth and you swallow them down, not ready to voice them, in case he agrees. "And I appreciate that, but-"
Cutting you off with a shake of his head, he slams you against the ground, yet again. Such a violent nemesis. And I care about Norm, too. He's our son.
"Fine, if you want to be a father, go ahe- wait, did you say our son, or-"
He presses his mouth to yours before you can finish.
The audacity. This is worse than when he interrupts your monologues while thwarting you, because at least you plan for that. If he wasn't so endearing, with his soft noises and soft fur and the way you've barely been able to stop thinking about him since you met, you'd be pushing him away to complain. He's earned your complaining, but then you wouldn't be kissing him and you'll take what you can get.
Unfortunately, air is a thing. Pulling back to breathe again, you meet his eyes. His glare. "Oh, you did say that, okay." You lick your lips, weighing your options. "And if I agree, if I say he's our... son... will you- will you kiss me again?"
From the way his eyes narrow even further, he's either considering it or he doesn't trust you. You're not sure which. I'm not the one you have to prove it to, he responds, eventually. Tell Norm, and we have a deal.
"You drive a hard bargain, Perry the Platypus. But I'll do it." How hard can it be?
Very hard, apparently.
He rolls his eyes at your hesitation at the door to the closet Norm spends most of his time in, arms folded and leaning against the wall. Don't tell me you're scared.
"No," you lie, and bang your fist on the door. "Norm! I know you're in there, I can hear your music. Turn it off and come out here already! No, don't turn it up. Ugh. Why do I even bother? He's not even my-"
An elbow digs into your shin and you glance down, into Perry the Platypus's glare. At least act like he's your son.
Groaning, you lean your head on the door. Why did you think this would be a good idea? "Please?" you mumble, quieter. Right, because Perry the Platypus agreed to-
Norm's thumping footsteps are the only warning you get to scramble away before he wrenches the door open, with his usual bright grin. "It's good to see you, sir! I really enjoyed spending time with you!"
"Yeah, yeah, no need to make a big deal of it," you mutter under your breath. Exhaling, you look up at him, trying for a smile. Time to make Perry the Platypus proud. "I was thinking of going fishing this weekend-" Perry the Platypus's idea. "-and... would you like to come? Just me and you, and Perry the Platypus if he feels like tagging along, like- like a father-son thing."
His eyes light up at that, literally. It's just like when Perry the Platypus was acting all fatherly earlier, except now it's directed at you, and... well, it's nice. More than you thought it would be.
Maybe you were a little jealous.
And still Evil, so, "On second thought, let's not invite Perry the Platypus." Who's standing right next to you, so he can see how Evil you're being. "Why should he get all this bonding time, huh?"
You get another elbow to the shin for that. Worth it.
AN: Again, I appreciate all reviews and reviewers, you're all great :D
