Old Reunion, New Headaches
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The 'Incident'.
That is their family code phrase for what happened twelve years earlier, at Robert jr's Bar Mitzvah, his thirteen-year old coming of age according to tradition. It is their code phrase for the event, the singular event in their long campaign to set up Roll with someone, anyone, to the point where Sarah has started to consider dropping the condition of her mate being bipedal.
The Incident began at the entrance to the club the Coles had rented out for their friends and family. Artificial and otherwise.
It started with six individuals walking through the club's double doors. When the people near the entrance saw them, they knew it was probably because of a mistake in the mail. First, there was him. Tall, handsome, silver-black hair with purple bangs and dressed in fine-tailored dark gray suit.
He looked like a hitman. And behind him was his posse.
Before anyone else, the people noticed Gutsman. A massive figure who could probably have fit any single party guest in his pocket. Next to him was Shadow Man, who outside of his ninja regalia looked absolutely human, save for his being double jointed. This was obvious because he kept bending his entire hand against his forearm out of habit.
Then there was Bomb Man. He alone was a reason they weren't invited to many parties. His look was toned down. His skin was still yellow but his red hair was grown out. But it didn't help that he kept looking for something combustible.
To make matters worse, they also brought along Sword Man.
Rounding out the group was Top Man. Short, hyperactive, and held in place from spinning like his namesake, out of his suit, and streaking the entire party by Gutsman's brute strength alone.
"Wow," was Bass's first observation, "They…didn't spare an expense here."
"Yep," Gutsman responds, heavily smacking Bass on the shoulder with his free hand, "What'cha wanna do first, kid?"
"I'll scout ahead!" Sword Man announces.
His legs became rigid, and his top half, still in his buttoned shirt and black jacket, began to rise from his bottom half. Until Bass grabbed him and forced him back onto his waste-mount, and turned his head with enough force to crack something until they could see eye-to-eye.
"No!" Bass growled, "No! No…levitating! No flame sword!"
He turned to Bomb Man.
"No blowing things up!"
He turned to Shadow Man.
"No killing people from the shadows!"
He turned to Top Man.
"No…no…ah hell. Let's get the little midget drunk."
"Sounds like a plan!" Gutsman bellowed.
The group began to walk towards the club's bar, lights flashing at the dance floor as music no doubt picked by a thirteen year old plays.
A small distance from the bar, Bass saw her.
In a white sweater and long black skirt, hair the color of flaxen amber in a loose ponytail. She hadn't seen him yet, and it had been a good year since they even talked on the phone…and when she saw him, her blue eyes met his dark purple eyes, and she waved.
He returned the greeting, stopping in his tracks, as did his compatriots…except for Sword Man's legs, which kept going.
Shrieking, Bass lunged, grabbing the legs by the ankles and he brought them down. Dragging the lower half back to the upper half, he slammed Sword Man's upper half down onto his waist, and turned him under they heard a click.
"Ow!" the fencer-bot yelled, "It doesn't screw in, you idiot!"
The inevitable argument was ended by Gutsman punching Sword Man in the face. Which left the problem of an unconscious Sword Man.
"What the HELL was that for?!"
"I had to stick up for ya, kid," Gutsman said in his best 'old sage' voice, "Now go over there and talk to Roll. I'll keep the posse in line."
This, as they say, is where it got interesting.
A more detailed explanation of the pre-'Incident' conversation can come up when required. What is known, what is common knowledge, is that shortly after Bass walked over to Roll and they began talking, Zero was hurled by Gutsman at the dance floor.
There was an explanation about 'no one said I couldn't toss' and 'he needed incentive' but the end result of the commotion was the nearby Sarah Light being tackled by her husband for fear of her safety, and her drink, a red wine, flying through the air and impacting on Roll's sweater.
Apologies turned into a scolding by Robert sr. and Sarah of not setting ground rules for such a massive danger. Those turned into Roll berating her sister and brother in law for yelling when no one was hurt, and Robert's over reaction staining her new sweater. That lead to Bass piping up and yelling at, in turn, Gutsman for tossing, Zero for being an easy target, Robert for not being used to this by now, and Roll…
Well, Roll belted him. That killed the music quick. Robert jr, always a smart kid, got the DJ to focus the spotlight on his Aunt. He passed it off as part of the night's entertainment. He took the microphone, made it into a joke, and dragged them onto the dance floor. He was beaming with pride.
They, on the other hand, were fuming.
"This is your fault," she said with gritted teeth.
"My fault? Your brother in law practically tossed that drink at you."
"I didn't bring along the amateur dwarf-tosser."
"He's five foot ten. He's not a dwarf. He just lets everyone push him around. I swear to God, he has to get balls at some point…"
"You brought a ninja, a fencer, a psychopathic arsonist slash arsenal, and a speed-using midget. This is your fault."
"You invited me."
"Yeah. We had room since we couldn't find Blues. And Rush couldn't attend."
This was, for the image's sake, during a waltz. If one looked closely, they could see muscles straining as they turned the tradition holds of the dance into death-grips. They say the sexual tension between the two was so thick in the air that day it distorted the laser-lights.
Her hand on his shoulder at some point in their argument had placed itself on the back of his head. Presumably, for extra leverage by grabbing his hair. They continued arguing in whispers and growls, the music playing just loud enough for no one to hear, and simply watch…
Until finally, the argument reached a climax (and some say, so did Roll) and the two broke their dance, standing off in a way reminiscent of Bass and Roll's departed brother during one of their battles.
"I shouldn't have even brought your name up!"
"And I should have burned that invitation the moment I saw it, put the ashes in a pile, and let Treble pee on them!"
"Right, bring Treble's genitals into this argument! They probably come up enough in your real life!"
"And you're hoarding this party to make up for the fact that you don't even have a boyfriend! Live it up, Roll, and remember to be extra kind to your little robotic zoo to make up for your barren womb!"
"Idiot jackass!"
"Judgmental bitch!"
The two stared off, the entire club silent as they watched in anticipation. They say there were bets by the bar, on who would change to their arm-cannon first and open fire…
But then…but then, it would be written in legend. He grabbed her, and she grabbed him by the collar and they kissed. Not romantic. Violent, starved, like they were trying to suck the air out of the other's lungs and win the argument via suffocation.
It was, to Robert jr, information he could pass on to his health class the next year. Zero, having regained his balance, was watching with a floored open jaw. Sarah was watching in a mix of horror and happiness. Robert sr. was wondering what the Hell happened. And the silence was broken by Gutsman, who pumped his fists into the air, and yelled,
"Mazel tov!"
They say he already had a few drinks in him by then.
The kiss ended. It was one single, long, three minute kiss, filled with mutterings, surprised groans, and an embrace which resembled an ancient Greek wrestling hold. As the kiss ended, his hands on her waist and her shoulder, hers on the back of his head and his collar, the two stared into each other's eyes with a mix of confusion, desire, and raw heat completely inappropriate to be displaying in front of her nephew.
"I need to clean this stain," she breathed.
"I have a hotel room upstairs," he said, "It has a washing machine."
"Good enough."
They broke the embrace. Bass laid down the rules to his posse, especially about throwing Zero, and said he had to check on Treble. Roll told Sarah she had to freshen up. They left. Though different exits, he through the main entrance, she through the exit to the rest room.
No one saw them for an hour and a half. And at that point, they were just avoiding each other. And her sweater was spotless.
This leads us to today. Roll is the first to walk into the apartment building, into its lobby. Looking around, seeing the marble pillars lining the lobby, the reception desk with well-paid, trained receptionists, she knows it is not the hovel she expected her brother to be living in.
The plane ride took four hours. Customs and the like took one, due to Sarah's influence, and it took them another hour to find the building…and now none of the three know where to go from here, because a clue Blues did not give them was an apartment number, or which of his many assumed names he was living under.
Zero screaming snaps Roll and Sarah out of their musings. They turn, to see a large, blue, comically fat bird taking up a perch on an astonished Zero's extended arm. The bird squawks, flapping its wings upon seeing Roll.
"Beat!"
The bird whistles in responds, taking off towards the elevator and dragging Zero with him.
"Follow the bird!" Roll yells…and Sarah places a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Let's not get into a children's show mentality, shall we?"
She begins calmly walking after the bird and its screaming prisoner, to the elevator, and towards the floor that the bird somehow pushed the button for.
Unsurprisingly, Rock's clothes fit X perfectly. It added to the feeling of unease and familiarity Blues had around his new little brother, more so than his prodigy-level intelligence and near-perfect recall after going through the apartment's formidable library.
And now X stands in the living room of the apartment, clad in the khaki shorts and blue t-shirt Blues got out of storage. Looking like Rock aged a few years…but with complete naïveté and innocence where a war-torn fatigue would have been.
Blues doesn't turn as the apartment door opens. He merely steps aside, letting the three travelers gaze upon his guest…and Roll reacts first, gasping.
"My God," she says, "He…he looks like Rock's twin."
"Yeah," Blues says with a somber tone, "I figured it out. Like Dr. Light created reploid bodies for us, X here was meant to be Rock's…but Rock isn't here anymore. So he's a blank slate."
He turns to Roll, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. Motioning her forward, she stands in front of X, who looks her over, examining her like every bit of data he has consumed in the past few hours.
"Roll?" he asks.
"Yes. I'm Roll. Your sister."
X smiles like a small child, and extends his hand.
"Good to meet you."
As Roll meets her newest sibling for the first time, Sarah turns to Blues, looking him up and down, and then into his red-blue eyes.
"So you are Protoman," she states.
"Yes. You must be Dr. Light's daughter. You've brought along Zero like I asked, good."
"And why did you ask? I doubt it was just for the courtesy of us all meeting X at once."
"Perceptive," Blues says with a smile, "The same small paranoia the Doctor had. I have been out of touch for the past few years. There is a reason for that."
"But…you're doing pretty well," Zero chimes in, looking about the apartment, at the luxuries present as he walks towards the piano, "If you can afford this apartment."
Blues chuckles, folding his hands behind his back.
"In truth, it's not mine. The apartment belongs to-"
"It belongs to me."
Standing in the doorway, the purple-armored wolf-hound tensing, rearing back and growling, Bass closes the door behind him. He turns to Treble, lowing his hand and causing the hound to relax.
In that time they all turned to see him. Blues with a hint of amusement. Zero with a good amount of nervousness. Sarah with an amount of trepidation. And Roll…
Roll looks at him, eyes wide, standing protectively in front of X.
"I thought you'd be out," Blues states.
"I changed my mind," Bass responds, "Hello, Mrs. Cole. Hello, little brother."
Smiling faintly, he walks to Roll, placing his hands on her shoulders and moving her aside.
"Don't worry," he says, "I gave Blues permission to keep X here. If we could move this out of my apartment, I made us a reservation at a restaurant nearby so we could figure out what we're doing with our newest guest."
Zero shrugs, walking out the door along with Sarah. Blues smirks, motioning X over and leaves the apartment, Treble trailing behind, leaving Roll and Bass…
And before Bass can speak, she turns to him, sharply glaring at him.
"What are you planning?" she demands.
"Planning? Me?" he innocently asks, "I simply wanted to change the setting. I have nothing planned."
He smiles, warmly, placing his hands on hers, their eyes meeting as he folds his hands around hers…and she pulls her hands free, stepping back from him and averting her gaze.
"Don't…just don't start," she says, "I'm here to pick up my brother and head back to Japan."
"It's been twelve years."
"It should be longer. I'm sorry, Bass."
"So am I. Last time I…messed up. I admit it. If there's time, later…can we talk?"
"Maybe," she says, walking past him to the door, "Maybe."
Robert Cole, jr, New York City resident and student of psychology at the New School, ends his day of classes in a set, predetermined way. He makes a ten minute trek to the condo his parents have rented out to him, says hello to his landlady, checks his physical mail, and relaxes on his couch with his laptop while checking his e-mail. This does not, at any point, involve him screaming.
Today was different.
Today ended with the relatively handsome, somewhat overweight, glasses wearing black haired young man screaming as he read an email. One from his mother. One saying that she would be in New York City in four hours. Dated from four hours ago.
Yawning, a blonde haired young man around Robert's age peaks his head out of one of the side rooms, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"Dan! Up, NOW! Quick!" Robert screams at his room mate.
"Say what?" the half-awake native New Yorker groans, "Jeez, anyone tell you you scream like a girl?"
"My mother is coming here."
Daniel Masterson, Robert's room mate of two years, snaps awake at the sound of those words.
"Shit. You mean Chi Chi?"
"The same."
"Give me a minute. I'll get the vacuum, you clean up the beer cans. We coordinate and we can have this-"
A heavy, booming sound echoes. The sound of the door knocker being used. At which point the two friends, long used to being able to pick up each other's thoughts, speak at the same time.
"Ah, crap."
Robert waves off his room mate, walking to the door. Not bothering to peak through the one-way peek hole, he turns the knob, expecting the worst…
And finds something far different.
"Hello, Robert Cole junior," the british-accented voice on the other side of the doorway says, "I believe it is time we discussed your future."