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As that wave of relief washed over her, she'd loosen her squeeze and breathe out her final cries.
For her money, never believed nor imagined that she'd let anyone uncork her crazy world, especially not this drifter of time who, just days ago, had aimed to end her life. That and more, perhaps, to taint any true peace, as they'd share the ensuite to freshen up and clear any stinging.
"Kid, your own battles aside, I'd rather you back out than back me up. Can't ever be ready for—"
"Cute to presume I've any choice anymore, after those complete sea aunts tried to deep-sixty me. Now the time's come to prepare wills, prepare ourselves, and prepare a payback they'll remember for life."
"Are you listening to yourself? What could you possibly do, when even miracles only delayed the inevitable?"
"I can't be the only man Admiral or his master's crossed, surely. So, you've any plans or—?
"Well, there's been drinks and dances, and you've bonned my Jovi ever since your surprise gift. Halfway there, wouldn't you say?"
"Needn't another word, ma'am. Symphod, shuffle up your finest 80s hits for us, play 'em as I like 'em."
Subtlest changes in pitch and tone, to create a dancefloor from dark oak beneath; gritty street synth, grungy guitar riffs, and thumping drums to breathe life into this impromptu party. A King of Pop classic, to realise and witness a rush of energy, enough to demand rewinds to still-legendary solos, challenges as the melodies repeated.
With her soul electrified and catching fire, Van Halen style, would bring out the ponytail whips, effortless leaps and nimble shreds; clocks no longer a concern as the playlist continued, even as her wrist began pleading for sleep. It was only after Mayfield began grabbing air by the balcony, that she'd stop and join him.
"So Thomas, how shall we close this show do you think?"
"All night long we've hurt so good, hardened our hearts, grew eyes of the tiger, and had the time of our lives. Good enough for me, but what'd you have in mind?"
"I don't know… For all our careless whispers, I think—"
"Are you kidding me?" he slapped his head. "How in the hell did I forget that?"
Stars to streak across the heavens, sparkle overhead, as his new request raised her eyebrow. Not quite the impulse in mind, getting that golden voice and saxophone, but perhaps this to prefer as she led their slow dance, let the music guide them.
Capped off with offers to stay the night, with complementary wishes of pleasant dreams, she knew this would've been, on any other occasion, an absolutely perfect date.
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"Thomas, gimme the honest, level truth… When I spoke of heroes, do you think I've a chance to be one again?"
A pressing question perhaps as she prepared her breakfast; half-carton of fresh market eggs cracked, scrambled, and soon cooking as she awaited his answer. Maybe not the best time to be asking, catching him with a cheekful of Archduke Chocula.
And as if chocolate flakes and mini-marshmallows weren't already a heart attack in waiting, he had also drowned his bowl in 'Third and Third and Third'; equal mix of milk, cream and sugar, perfect for on-the-go coffee lovers. A loud gulp of cereal and liquid, before he finally got to address her.
"Thought did trouble me, for all of fifteen minutes. Just a quick aside, do you seriously eat—?
"Breakfast of champions, and one I've neglected of late." A crack of knuckles and groundings of pepper, before she set her dish across from his. "So like I was axing before, do you—?"
"Why actually seek my approval? You damn well know who's the worthier of us two."
Would brush back her hair and dig into her meal, unable, or unwilling, to confirm his confidence.
"Look, no hero can have a heroic record—time itself guarantees that. Yet despite the life you've led, how we met and what I'd do since, you still gave that helping hand, still gambled your life to save mine. That, to me, takes more strength, courage, and capacity for love than almost anyone on Earth; didn't need some fancy cape or costume then."
Her mouth packed with protein, could only gaze toward those searching eyes and await his breath.
"Knowing all that, I reckon you've ALWAYS been a beacon of what we can be. Even to suffer your sense of 'justice' for screwing up."
Her own swallow to precede a gentle handgrip, even a genuine blush: "Thank you. Seriously, thank you. You know, credit where it's—"
"Never mind me, I've a ways to go yet. Though speakin' of which, how'd you find me out here?"
"Unseen friends reached out for the first time, and though it was brief, this apartment and I had a history. Just glad I got here; given the pace you were destroying yourself, wasn't sure we'd actually set things right."
"The way I'd put 'cope' into copious, I actually surprised myself too. So just as you didn't need any from me, those friends didn't want serious favours in return?"
"Only the occasional knock and chat."
"A kindness to really remind me—say, did things happen that you couldn't explain, even today?"
Forkfuls of egg to feed her face, before humming it over: "Hmmm, always did believe I was born in some faraway galaxy, and yet my friends rarely failed to be there when needed."
Intrigue in each other's eyes as they'd chat about anything over their big breakfast; clear skies and sunshine, however, to hurry things along. Starting with the month's cooking marathon, had SO much to catch up on; rookie's gifts would ensure she'd get everything done, double time, as they hit the showers and soon the street.
"Never believed miracles could last, until all this… Thanks kid, really, for everything."
"Ditto Captain, but let's be clear, that still applies. No better policy than creating our fortune, over seeking it."
Puzzled look before a handshake and hug had her rub down and race off, soon leaving flicks of water in her wake. His salute to have a little laugh; despite burying grand dreams galaxies beyond home, this was the closest she had come to actual closure, daresay the truth.
"Read all about it people, a bum with no business being here actually taught me a thing or two."
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"Ahhh, my finest Monday of thousands… Once you're crammed into a cannon, can finally have a REAL Captain at Bessie's wheel."
And as the minute hand crept past the six, seven, eight then nine, she began to consider that for all his simpers and back pats, the Chief might've been right. Sips of coffee to grow longer, and her latest subscription to start flicking with force, before she'd rise from the roundtable for having had enough.
A rummage through locker and purse to become a sprint of lightning, as Olympus itself would descend; moments after to discover Mayfield pacing about the bus depot, biting knuckles. Several delays rather sinister in origin, from the word going about—strange yet familiar voice over intercoms to demand compliance, before crackles sealed the route's fate.
Weights of Olympus to descend as a quick purse rummage soon became sprints of lightning; moments after to discover Mayfield at his nearest bus depot, biting knuckles. From what she could gather, there'd been several delays rather sinister in origin—strange yet familiar voice over intercoms to demand compliance, before crackles sealed the route's fate.
Regardless of how or why, wasn't gonna let that cook her Captaincy—calling his name she would hustle her EO outside, get him creamed up then snatched his hand, no care for witnesses nor questions while they skipped across the Hudson. By the time they'd gather themselves in the lobby, hearts pounding fast, the minute hand had ticked past the eleven.
"Seriously, they're after me AGAIN? Just trying to do my job and do it properly, for fu—"
"Perhaps they're giving a chance to reconsider your return? I don't know, but come on, before we're late!"
A yell of "Oh, foo!", and fist thuds that nearly cracked bones, to let slip a wicked smirk; had to relish how she foiled her Chief, the astonishment among crew and colleague after they sat. Hermes however to get to his feet, straighten papers and grab everyone's attention—bureaucrat by badge and nature, to his credit, who'd fix the kid with a molten stare.
"Sweet can rattlin' in Manhattan mon, where 'de hell have yuh been?"
"Accusing parlour, Taco Bellevue, New Jersey, bottom of the Hudson, back to Taco Bellevue—"
"And stop with the smart mouth, I'm serious."
"Wish to the Gods I wasn't. Ever since THIS son-of-a-bitch—a point towards the Professor—forced my hand, made a criminal of me, and left me holding our bag, I—"
"Watch what yuh say! So does that explain the events of two weeks ago, when he'd be beaten down and left tuh die?"
"Would admit to being tempted; hell, BEFORE I heard all the stories, I came this close—fingers almost touching—to tearing him and his stupid lab apart. But Mr. Conrad, I'd be careful who you finger. One bad choice made long before, to earn a Hell that not even he's worth repeating."
"And I'm s'posed to swallow dat crap? Givin' me good reason to send yuh back; wanna plead your case before I do?"
"I am not and never was guilty over Wrinklehead's woes, so spare me your plea bargain bullshit. You want a witness, our Captain's right there, and I'm prepared to lay my cards down. Lords know I'll live just fine, long as the truth's somewhat spoken for."
From there, for better or worse, he'd share his story from beginnings to present; Captain's nods and nary a correction, even to tug a shoulder strap at times, to know all was satisfactory. From escapes to New Jersey to such unbelievable stupors, from their midnight argument to the monster of shadows who claimed him, he didn't spare a single detail.
By the time he'd come to a breathless finish, everyone would wind up enraptured. By no means a life of little consequence, yet it seemed that Hermes, totally unmoved, was quite determined to add his.
"Be all 'dat as it may, yuh get no big ups from me. Can't respect ya costing us such wicked green, so gonna strip yuh of any ranks… Be grateful I'm letting yuh keep this job."
"Excuse me, GRATEFUL? What are you smoking and where can I score some?"
"You dare back chat this Grade 36, bwoy?"
"Damn right I dare, especially when off the back of my ideas, I've grown more 'green' in weeks than YOU'VE done in years. And right now, we've nowhere to go but up, and a LOT more to lose. Demote me, and you can bet your charcoal arse that I'll ensure it. So how 'bout it Conrad, got a better deal?"
Would've bet the ship that Hermes would send him packing, yet instead he'd clasp that considerable chin of his. Threats like those to really cross a line, but also knew it was suicide to believe they were empty. Not to mention that, even to learn of several secrets, she couldn't guarantee that he hadn't any others.
"Alright 'den, since yuh wanna act like some bigshot, YUH take charge for once! We want all those crates out in one week; if I see even a slither of one left, I'll light your cannon's fuse myself. We clear?"
Heard curses to gamble his life, but knew he sought to prove himself ever since he dropped by her doorstep. And for gazing upon the dozens of crates swarming her ship, he'd gotten his best opportunity by far. Seemed he would agree, to actually rise up and shake his hand.
"You're on, sunshine. Alright people, let's get our arses into gear; Professor, get our wonder machine warmed up, might have to create us a couple of fortunes."
Her sudden glow to get such answers, give a delighted clap of hands: "So THAT'S what you meant, of course! So afraid of any risk, any loss, I'd just block out the potential gains. Anyway, guess Amy and I'd better get Bessie ready."
Clack of claws right after: "Could read some human medical stuff, maybe? In case we return in pieces?"
"You did good just gettin' the ambulance, crab, that's what I'm grateful for… Ladies of the ship, gentlemen of the desk? Let's rock."
That kid to punch a fist into his palm, and leave Amy and her behind in loading the crates, rushing up the bridge. No doubt it wasn't just the cream, as her reunited crew would soon count down in unison.
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For once seeking the awful, twisted courage to end everything, he never thought he would return so alive to this rollercoaster ride.
A silent awe to once again be his in gazing out, cruising smooth for Eagle-76; privilege all his to sign off on a collection of championship rings and pennants. Young cub's cavalier guess to believe they were worth millions, certainly now if not in centuries prior; against these beings to so honour classic and modern America, Uncle Sam seemed like a Russkie now.
"Never was a witness to what'd define that year of the underdog… If only, if only."
Tear in his eye before they'd arrive in Amazonia minutes later, brand-new netting to have SSD'd—signed, stamped, and delivered. Casual comic fan to imagine and wish for a world of perfect Dianas, but instead would wind up cranking his neck toward a Jennifer, or rather her sensational foreign knockoff.
Making matters worse, he'd be met with an instant loathing, far beyond whatever delays would've given actual cause. Not even a greeting given before that freak began swinging her club, the wind force alone akin to a hurricane—only surrender and offers of arrest to settle things, and secure a life again under serious threat.
"Ugh, if I had a Bennie for each fine mess of mine… Could pay someone to keep it clean."
Primitive villages of wood and stone to witness, saying nothing of customs, as every step forward—much like his shackle—began to choke him with anxiety. A long silence only stopped when almighty echoes began to reverb inside some great pyramid; grand machine speaking as such to not grant him relief for long.
"Femputer demands to know what business you have on her planet."
Little better than squeaks, to escape: "Sorry ma'am, was sent on behalf of Planet Express, here to deliver netting. Though if you'll permit me, has anyone said you sound like a golden girl?"
"How dare a human flatter his superior! And those reasons do not Fempute… Femputer shall return, your payback for trespass in HAND!"
His sentence would come swift and end up quite severe; death by what they called 'snu-snu.' Even to have known nothing of their chambers, there was no ignoring the sights of half-lit cigarettes, smiling skulls and crushed pelvises… No evidence either, of any enjoyment on the giving end.
"Look, um, ladies? Much as you think I'm just another animal, I can't promise to satisfy any of you. And to only watch my share over having it, I don't wanna disappoint ya before I die."
"A snu-snu virgin? That a first. Nothin' kill mood faster than playing teacher—any other idea?"
"Assume these nets are for the courts I'd pass by, so how 'bout a pick-up game or somethin'?"
No doubt he'd never hear the end of this, but knew he had more critical matters at hand, as those giants gathered into a three-on-three. Taking this all in, he couldn't hide being impressed by their fundamentals over time, especially for 15-foot, 1000-pound beefcakes—was after a close game that he'd get his notice signed and the permission to walk free, having somehow satisfied them.
"Bout time you got back, snail mail," he heard a snappy cry. "What the hell happened out there?"
"Captain, remind me to give up my tips if ever we return here… And let's speak no more as to why."
Could've sworn to hearing a chuckle as they'd burst for Mars at lightspeed, then to Cineplex-14 virtually next door; comparably smooth runs by far for performing a quick Wong errand, then a second-chance popcorn delivery. Thankful sighs to breathe, believing he'd survive another day, and then an irate 'request' to redirect them through some floating stopovers.
Supposedly a fast food run for some pageant at Tova-9, yet even for hearing of orders in advance, there was no way he could handwave the crates they'd take in. Captain to writhe and crew to double over; no such restaurant to remember doing that, as he'd be led backstage upon landing.
But to really set off his worst squirms, almost require a sit-down, it'd be a certain voice and a curious peek beyond the curtains… Of all the heads to really meet first, it'd be the one turning that supposed contest into a campaign, one whose sunny hair could shine from ten thousand miles away.
"Ya gotta be bloody shittin' me! Is it too late to reconsider trespass on Amazonia again?"
That he could follow over the crowd's chants of "We want Bob!", and their nuclear contempt otherwise, there'd be endless boasts of beauty contests in their day; ladies cuter, chestier and classier than "you and these freaks." This to no doubt drive a reception that, in turn, drove a series of unrepeatable rants, force sponsors to say words for, apparently, the seventh time.
Whatever the number, it convinced him enough to race right for bridge, end up breathless for coming aboard: "Ma'am, best you back me up I think… Gut's tellin' me there's gonna be real trouble."
The moment they would stand beside that golden door, their trolley burning and beating in their nostrils, he couldn't help the knocking knees, loss of colour and growing sweats, things to give even Leela pause.
"Even to face my fists, you've never gone this pale. I don't get it, what's up?"
"Of all the world leaders I had to wander into, it'd be—"
"Oh please, surely they're not THAT bad."
"You don't have my memories of 'em, nor did you hear what I heard out there. 'Bout the time I'd be vanished, the head I'd find would long be coined one of state. And let's just say, being VERY generous, they weren't by any means a conventional one."
"Sorry, but I can't see how that's of any real concern. Sounds to me like they're still a head in a jar, when really broken down."
"You think I'm scared of those, Cap?" he'd cock an eyebrow. "I came and got ya 'cause, in another age, I'd read up on the history between them and contractors like us. Trust and believe that, without hesitating, I'd put dollar-to-dollar that they're gonna try to cheat us, or pick a serious fight."
"That sure, are you? C'mon, what's the worst that could—"
Cocks of guns behind and in front, to send cringes up their spines; red dots lined over skulls and chests to realise it'd been an ambush from minute one. So much for good intentions, even appearances of such, especially once the host was wheeled in wearing the smuggest of smirks.
"Time I seal my art on these total losers… Come in, and let's talk burgers shall we?"
Even more agents to take aim upon entering, to fear the beginning of something ugly, as if that golden door being slammed shut and locked behind didn't tip him off already.
"Twelve-against-two, Sir? Over all this? Maybe ain't a deal I'd brag and crow about, 'less there's liquid gold inside this sh—"
"One more word and it'll be your last, got it? You'll speak when spoken to."
Glances quick after their hover dolly was snatched, and protests growing while the contents within were totalled up. No stench he'd known to so peel one's very skin off; complaint after complaint to come storming down, no doubt justifiably.
"What is this? What the HELL is this?! I request a good meal 'round these parts, and you offer me these cold, rotten lumps of crap?"
"Par for the course from Fishy Joe's, Limburger King and McPluto's, Sir. And that's WITHOUT ordering hundreds on short notice, flying hundreds of—"
That to earn a bullet right beneath his twin mates, so close he could feel hairs burn: "Starting to be done with you do-nothing scum… Especially to bring this fat-eyed alien freak, who the hell's she?"
Side-eye to grow real nervous over; Leela's face to flush lava-red, and would catch the ooziest grin for looking back.
"Put real simply, 'Sir', you may call her Captain. Now, any chance we can sign this without bloodshed?"
"Captain, her?" came the scoff. "Be lucky to scrub toilets if I ran a delivery company; thing's an animal, a bigly clear disaster. So how 'bout you have that rabid dog put down, before I order your tongue shot down your throat? Or wait, are you too much her bitch to even try?"
Own cheeks to flush yet couldn't say anything out loud; guy's former stature to afford him quite the posse of professionals, though not so much that they didn't relish in his mockery. Decaying things quicker than any 'banquets', however, was that old chestnut of walling up homes; would almost get pancaked trying to keep the peace.
"Settle down damn you, settle down! Here, here, I've brought you some balm—quick rub and a breather oughta help."
Jeering to become raucous, as he turned back while breathing deep: "Pal, to be clear, her skills are such that it's NO shame to admit being humbled. Hell, especially to give her so many good reasons, I'll lay my money or life that she'll make you hers as well, post-haste."
"And you think I'm afraid of her, that low-IQ lowlife? You've only one chance to obey me now, so I'd suggest you take it."
"Hmmm, gee, driving hard bargains here. Aside from rather aspiring to be like her, I won't. And word of advice guy, I'd be wise to back off with any bully tactics, especially when we've got our ways to give you a real taste."
"Then I guess we're doing things Fifth Avenue style," the host spoke, shooting a glare. "Damn shame, and damn sure wasn't a pleasure."
Before he could even blink, was rushed off to some empty corner; storming hail of bullets to batter them, yet none to pierce his skin. Likely 9mm and NATOs to litter those marble floors; by the time he did cream up, her outfit was in absolute tatters.
"Uhhh ohhh, you done pissed her off… I'd apologise if I were you." A sing-song with a smirk, while his Captain cracked her knuckles.
"Was all totally their idea, don't know nor heard of these psychos in—"
T-shirt to offer her, as he got up real close: "And yet you'd have this 'alien freak' scrubbing toilets, huh? No wonder everything you ran got flushed down the same. For the love of money she LIVES for fights like those, what kinda fool would I be to not bring her along?"
That jar of liquid to take on rainbow hues, if possible; pale-shock blue, beet-red indignity, even plum-purple rage. But to feel his 'balm' work through his body, hadn't any fear whatsoever.
"All the things I've been and done; Free World leader, king of media, God of real estate… Where's the respect I'm owed from you idiots?"
"Think we'd ever oblige a gasbag who tried screwing us from word go, then invoke murder when we wouldn't budge? Now, here's the deal—she's through, and I'm sick, of being kind. So either you sign our papers and cough up the cash, or we're gonna offer a payback you WON'T like… Comprendo, amigo?"
A simple stomp or punch to destroy marble and dent gold; real proof of power to earn a scrawl, or rather a seismic reading, on their contract in a panicked hurry. Almost didn't grab their dolly back for being so happy to leave, though it would require a decontamination and deep clean after that episode.
"Oh dear God," Leela flopped in her seat. "Thomas, if ever I complain of Fry's time again, feel free to gimme a good shake. Still don't know how I didn't punt that bastard's head past orbit."
"Wouldn't bother scuffing your shoes, way I see it. Dude ate from a diamond spoon since birth, and that I've heard, was once a master of clear personas and snappy messages…" A little chuckle to burst out: "Remembering all that, you think he'd be hosting those alien beauty contests by choice?"
Musings over what the man could've been, while Earth and the day's end both came into sight.
"Saying that, I better meet Lucifer in ice skates before anyone like THAT again."
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"Sweet overclock of Inverloch, a bureaucrat's favourite pastime. Overtime!"
Never met a man so giddy to get extra work, but didn't care to ask as he headed straight for the showers; historic as this five-delivery day had been, it certainly wasn't one that he wanted to let linger. Better time and place to hear of Leela's crisis meets with Bob Barker's head, back in the day.
Yet even before the first sprays could crash upon his head, he'd hear the subtle creeps of footsteps.
"Oh Lord, I can't WAIT to get this stink of lead and lousy food off. Sure gonna take a while."
A sudden turn to spot both ladies with not even a thread; this to attempt an immediate pirouette that'd almost topple him over. Could've sworn to hearing giggles, however stifled, as of course they'd join him either side—cheeks to flush and heartbeat to quicken once his Captain began working up a lather.
Basic hygiene to begin slipping from his mind, though not for nothing, as she'd massage that silken lavender past her shoulders, as she'd give every good angle in cleansing herself of the day's madness.
"D'oohh, damn this mind of mine! Gonna cop it sweet to get caught, even to move away. Come on mate, get a grip and keep it—"
"Thomas, those little glances aren't fooling anybody…"
Facing the slyest of smiles to get caught, he almost broke his neck trying to glance elsewhere; directed back, words would fail him so outright he'd be left in slack-jawed stammers.
"Please don't tell me you've never seen a naked woman in any life?"
"Oh, ohhh my, umm, errr…"
"Okay, I'll make it simpler—you like what you see, or don't? And plain English please."
"No Captain, w-w-word—"
Shelling inside, he'd return to washing himself again, only to get pulled up.
"Well, gonna spit it out or what? You know I'm not one for waiting around."
"Word was love, dammit… It was love."
"See, that wasn't so hard now, was it?" she'd smile again.
"Say, since you're speaking of lovely ladies, how 'bout me rookie?"
Trust him to go peeking Amy's way while being his own chiropractor; full frontal in the flesh, his second-ever, to now leave him breathless and palming that white-tiled wall.
"This—this even real? See me, see yourselves… We sure we didn't crash-land on a planet of fantasies or—"
"No, we're safe and sound on Earth, but you two go enjoy your time. I'll just be lonely, as per usual."
"Captain, shmease! What's wrong with me joining in the fun?"
This to send his head on a swivel: "Whoa, whoa, what fun are we talkin'? Ladies, if you reckon I'm ready to burden you good sorts, then forget it."
"Wait, wait wait, you're joking right?" Leela could only sputter. "Thomas, do you even remember who you used to be, against who you are now? Seriously, how impossible do you think we are, or hell, ladies in general?"
"Captain, so we're clear, I still am. When my Ma and Da's condemned souls haunt me still, nothing of anyone I've become can apply."
"So your hope is to find and reunite everyone? By yourself? Despite those years prior to us?"
"They're MY debts to settle!" he'd glare back, slapping the tiles. "How could I ever confront my shame, to leave others in charge of it? Was already no man before that mess—think I'd ever be accepted back otherwise?"
"Oh sweet older brother, I'm gonna be sick! One-eye, face facts here; no vows of his will ever compensate for THAT delivery service."
Veins throbbing in his neck, over that snaky voice: "Who said that? Who the HELL said that?!"
A slap of flesh to stir him, a cursing wince to convince him: "Ai ya, so sorry 'bout that. Talking tattoo from old tax rebates—for how I usually am with money, it's the sole thing I've ever regretted."
"Christ, and I was just getting used to—"
"Hey, Saint Dickless, that's my family you're taking in vain."
"Ohhh, the same ones that cast YOU out? What would such a prick know about 'packages' anyway?"
Leela to leap in so fast, he almost slipped: "Making long stories short, Amy was always the 'connoisseur' of us both… Anything that moved in fact, and her Devil's been 'round a good deal."
"Shmich! Thanks a lot, you wanna give him my whole life story too?"
"Trying to be nice about it, horny guy's got his due this time. Ain't your fault and I'm sorry, but—"
His other head to thud against the tiles, earning him a nasty chuckle.
"Gods damn it, don't you ladies get it? What's love and commitment to an idiot who fucked over his family?"
"My father's name too? Aren't we quite the blasphemer?"
A stare of death to leave even the ladies arching: "Sorry, what? Can't say for sure, and you—"
"Don't you DARE tell me I can't. With just a few words, I'd damn the angels who'd raise me up, damn the brother who'd dream big for us. Was a nobody before that day, and worse now."
"How could you still say that? Your hand was forced, we already made that—"
"Regardless of the whats, hows or whys, no matter what came since, it was I who'd shatter all those lives… So don't ever think I'm a date worth keeping, Captain, 'cause quite frankly you deserve better."
Didn't see Amy grip her bicep, nor Leela's soft-eyed frown, as he'd drip red-faced out of their sight.