Through the lobby and towards the lab, the Captain and her crew could only complain after sighting the 'DO NOT DISTURB' sign. Crossing fingers against the bubbling beakers and crazed cackling, they could only whisper among themselves as to what their mad yet marvellous master was up to.
Black holes in a box, a world-nuking device, a Why/Where-Is machine…
Leela chose to rap her knuckles upon the door anyway, only to get no response. Eventually, upon no word from a passing Hermes about new deliveries, she made for the lobby again.
"Guess I'll just head off to my workouts alone, as is the norm for me."
Her crew waved her off, as Amy spoke after: "Figures he'd be doing this again… Oh well, some R&R never hurt anybody." In short order, she took off for the side lift.
Judging by his cross-armed snarl, and his share of fist pounds and rammed shoes into the door, Mayfield had bemoaned his luck that the one person he needed now had chased his own dreams, ones they couldn't afford…
Ventured out the back, and of course saw that big hole all patched up: "Gotta be an easier way…"
A sudden voice after scattered rubbish: "Thomas, my friend! Have you seen all the barnacles on my tuchus today?"
"Oh no, no no no no no…" Couldn't wave his hands enough before that crab dropped his slacks; all those blackened craters and volcano-shaped bumps to have Mayfield taste his burger, potatoes & soda once again.
"Ugh God… For shit's sake you mental dropkick, did I ask to see any of that?"
"I never heard a no…"
"Then clean your whatevers out, you…" Might've been fit to rant, before his finger-snap moment. "On the other hand, maybe I can forget this for, ahem, one small favour…"
Upon his whisper, Zoidberg left those boards in splinters; gladdened for Leela's well-learned lesson, Mayfield sent that dumpster doc away and strode up those metal steps.
Went from glad to pissed off when he got up close; The Professor was fast asleep, in deep dreams as the beaker bubbled in hand. Carefully, he plucked that tube from those bony hands, set it aside, then moved to lean in close.
"You've been foreclosed on, Farnsworth. Pack your shit and get out."
A stunned, frightful snort later, the big boss saw the new hire stare him down, had readjusted his glasses and, not unexpectedly, cut a harsh tone against him.
"Can't you drooling morons read? And dear God, where'd my beaker go? That by itself could level a city block!"
"Relax you emaciated egghead, it's in its own tube rack. As for us, we can read signs, rest assured. Seriously though, is this nap so important that you'd stop us from doing the jobs YOU hired us for?"
"Yes, yes, you sound like my captain, What's-Her-Name… Well, I'm awake, now make it quick Maybelline! I'll have you know that I'm busy right now."
A great rupture quivered in his guts; before long Mayfield found himself on the floor, wiping tears from his cheeks. Soon stood before his big boss, his cheeks pursed before he calmed down.
"Now that's the finest joke I'll hear, past AND present future! The way you snored and drooled in that seat, you were only catching Zs."
"Didn't I demand for you to wait until I was actually free?"
"For once, tell the truth. You never are, are you?"
"No, but that's not the point! If you weren't so rude, I'd scrounge up a few minutes for you. Though perhaps… What did you want to chat about?"
A light pat on the cheek; Mayfield would've bet his life on being blackmailed at some point. Hey, given how eager the Big Boss had been to kill them hours ago…
"Yeah-huh, hands off mate. Look, to brass tacks, I've got a proposition of sorts for you. I want the best of both worlds for everyone, and you're the man to make it happen, get me?"
For that a high-pitched cackle to bend The Professor backwards. Probably the first time he'd done so in a century or two.
"A Stupid Ages smart-mouth, here only half a day, telling me how to run my delivery company? What game are you playing, child? Planet Express has been my baby for nearly FIFTY years!"
"While I doubt I'd do worse, did I say I wanted to run this place? Simply put, I need your help to rig our life's game. One where we win, and big. I'll just shoot straight for a second… I'm just a worker in need of a job, that's it. Fuck the politics, the hostile takeovers, the leadership spills, all that nonsense. I just want something stable, and let's face it, you're only one bad week away, aren't you?"
The Professor had lunged forward and grabbed the young man's shirt, still consumed by his own sinister ideas. For a VERY old set of hands, Mayfield had to marvel at the grip.
"I'll give you stable, you little bastard; you'd better get down on your knees and beg for your job!"
"One, I rest my case, two, I'll do no such thing, and three, did you even hear a word of mine?"
"NOOOOO!"
Mayfield wiped that nasty spittle from his face, and gently moved those hands away.
"Don't hurt yourself, boss. If I willed it, my firm handshake would kill you. And this place is your baby, huh? Between your ship, penny stocks, obsessions and competition, it has never grown and developed… Huh, that does sound rather apt. Finally, though I don't doubt your scientific acumen, you suck as our ultimate leader."
"So, what of it?!"
"Listen up you old-arse drama queen, here's the bite-sized version… Me? Worker. Want? Money. Need? Stable job. Idea? For everyone." Child-like gestures to hammer the point: "Now, do we understand each other?
"Oh, I guess we do. Very well, what do you want?"
"Okay, get this…"
By finger or foot, Professor had tapped away whatever remained of his patience, and while Mayfield drafted a plan of sorts, Leela had returned to catch them conversing. Curious, she snuck around and tuned her ears, catching statements such as his combo of coincidences, the opportunities for them, the caution to cover it up…
"What are you up to?" she hissed to herself.
Though his big boss hummed in intrigue, he still hastened to disprove Mayfield's idea.
"I've spent a lifetime using hard data, hypothesis and double-blind reviews… You think I'm gonna start believing in miracles now?"
"Newsflash Prof, it's been nothing BUT miracles to keep this all alive. Look, I won't deny your lack of belief; in fact, I'd do the same upon only hearing it. Here's the thing though big shot, we could've been doomed to die or call in favours on credit. Would you wish to owe Mom anything?"
"Welcome to real life. So why am I wasting my mad scientist quality time, again?"
"Miracle Cream, that's what. Namely, the superpowers that it boasts, ones to save my life and save our delivery. Right here, right now, read my lips… That cream's the real deal, and I'm perfect proof of its abilities."
"Ooooh, you're gonna send me to the Angry Dome for giving me this hogwash… Get to the point damn you, I don't have forever to live!"
"You think it's mere fantasy, fine, be that way! You insist that I waste your time, well get angry! But dammit, listen… Help me, to help all of us, to help you. Clone it, copy it, recycle it or recreate it, I don't care, but if this plan succeeds, we'll not only have business, we'll be back in Boomtown before long."
"How so, wise-aleck?"
"Picture our advantage for a second… Super-powered deliveries, from hours opening to closing. Think of the word of mouth, the opportunities to come, the money to flow in… Think of all we could do for the ship, all the equipment we could afford, all the expansions to your empire. Think of your employees having enough, and of suitcases lined in cash to fund not just your bills, but your research as well…"
Caught unaware by that last pitch, The Professor could only stammer before his stubborn pride faltered. Couldn't deny it, this business did front his most personal obsessions, and if even that idiot knew about foreclosures…
After a sigh, a huff and a "Hmph", he shook the new hire's hand: "Oh confound you, fine! Bring me that cream, I'll see what I can do. Now leave me alone!"
"Thanks Farnsey, appreciate ya!"
"Farnsworth, you contemptuous dolt!"
As still no word had been heard about further deliveries, Mayfield had hoped to put right his perceived faux-pas against Amy. Didn't exactly involve her in his conversations, especially for her suggesting that wonderful diner. No such luck however, as a wet, panting Leela had cut him off at the lift, carrying a half-empty bottle.
"Oh, hey Leela, so how'd your workout go?"
"Captain, remember? Otherwise, great thanks! In fact, I could go again."
"Is that so, then?"
"Listen, could you follow me?"
An order given & heeded, but a squint of sorts towards that unusual grin. Couldn't quite put a finger on it, but even for his poor fitness, she should've been soaked in sweat and odour for those body workouts.
Still, her request sounded leagues better than vegetation, so off he ventured where he soon encountered her workout haven, hidden in her special corner of the hangar. A few free weights, a heavy bag, sets of jump ropes and more, the usual for an obvious fighter like herself.
"Thinking of a little heavy bag… Could you be a good charge and hold her in place?"
Though he couldn't help cocking his eyebrow, Mayfield gave an obliging nod and gripped both hands at its sides. Once again, her ferocious roundhouse came out to play; frequent thumps of leather echoed around the space as she mustered every bad intention and fierce grunt she could.
How she turned those hips, raised her knees and whip-cracked her feet… Hell, to his now-stinging eyes, such displays could've reminded him of the lethal and loaded force his older brother might've carried, once upon a time.
Except this time, it flailed just inches from his head. Perhaps too precise for comfort, thinking about it…
"So, you wanted to see me? Or am I just gonna stare at your fancy footwork all afternoon?"
"Remember the last one, just in case. If you don't mind, I'd like an opinion on something. It's about that form you handed in, about the doctor who signed it off in particular."
"Really, what about them?"
Enough kicks, and now hooks and body shots: "Tell me kid, do you actually value your life? Didn't I tell you to avoid Dr. Zoidberg after your physical? It's not out of exaggeration, but simple fact. He's always been a complete liability."
"Why should I be so hard on him, again?"
"How about this for a reason… He gave you a red-&-blue syringe, didn't he? According to what was ticked, it was to fix your broken back and burst lungs, correct?"
"Yeeeessss, that he did… Is it strange that I heard no sound after he did so?"
"Not at all. You see, against your particular injuries, they're 100% useless. Cured your head injuries fine—we can test that right now—because the robotics inside were PROGRAMMED that way."
For how red-cheeked he felt, he didn't even register the implied threat. If he didn't feel exposed before…
"Oh, right."
"So here you stand, just fine, yet it wasn't the syringe to cure you. And funny enough, you haven't left this HQ by yourself since we got back. The floor's yours, pal."
Mayfield squirmed, and hoped Leela didn't notice: "All due respect Captain, don't you think we oughta take all the help we can get?"
"You might be right, but there are certain, say, boundaries one shouldn't cross. Isn't it convenient how a mysterious stranger takes charge and outshines us seasoned professionals, when the only person we had around was minutes from death?"
Mayfield felt his neck veins threaten to pop. He didn't wish to spend his first day under interrogation…
"What are you hiding from me?"
"Are you kidding, Captain? Oh, I don't deny my dubious traits, but if you think you're gonna get away with branding me a criminal, remember who could've murdered me on our first night!"
"Quit those tears for fears, kid, it's just a question. Whatever happened, I'm glad we're here as two grown adults to talk about it. But it would've taken a weight off my shoulders for you to TELL me!"
She narrowed her eye once again, while aiming some knee attacks. If this was his idea of covering tracks, he was making a sloppy mess of it.
"So once again, are you hiding anything from me?"
"Oh for fuck's sake, fine! To put it one way, I thought that I'd enjoy a final meal knowing I was done for. Crawled along, slid over cold metal, found a safe buried under trash. Just typed in four numbers I saw lying about, I didn't think it'd be the access code! Sure didn't expect the rest I'd find, either."
Language and blatant disregard for orders aside, Leela could feel her teeth start to grind, knowing how the story might've ended.
"Listen boss, when you took me on you saved my God-damned life! Who the fuck do you take me for, when you think I'd repay that by screwing you? Trust and believe, that these goods are mine to make better, for all of us. If I make this work, we'll be set up for LIFE! You want to talk about hiding things, perhaps you'd best speak for yourself, huh?"
Got his answer when she lunged a push kick into the bag, one to wind and almost drop him on his ass. A message sent, never as clear as now.
"Be that as it may rookie, I'll be keeping a close eye on you from now on."
Grabbing her towel and headband, which both looked conspicuously dry, she left Mayfield to clutch his tender guts. After one turn and glare to suck a soul out, she was gone.
The whole situation left Mayfield to roar, erupt enough to have him slam some weights. Without that cream, they all would've died, or been saddled to a horrid debt. They stood today as alive, working, and given chances to prosper beyond fantasy…
Did his Captain forget what sent him headlong into this mess, what brought him to screaming by her apartment? Did she think he wanted to repeat all that again, especially after this morning?
Even for his inner thoughts and worries however, he hadn't known of Leela's early return, of her contingencies to have her once again call the shots. She didn't believe him so stupid that he'd invite her violence again, but this latest stunt of going over her head really ground her teeth more than usual.
The thought of losing her stash of miracles, especially to the one she took in… Wiping her forehead for today's close call, she repeated a dire warning, in whispers, as she took her time.
"Strike two, Mayfield…"