Even for seeing that splayed corpse before her, for knowing the gradual dwindle in powers, you couldn't fault how quick the Captain acted in spite of such panic.
Rubbing down and powering up again, she got to work stuffing that brain matter back inside his head. Wasn't sure that she pieced him together, nor whether she properly welded him shut through an 'Emergency Face Laser', but she was virtually out of choices by that time.
The scent of eucalyptus again on her fingers, she soon rubbed it over his bloody face, tore off his shirt and jeans to reach the rest of him. Didn't find it pleasant to see such body hair and fat for the first time, especially when she got neither a squeezed hand nor a moaning stir for the effort.
Perhaps was the time to seek some additional help…
Doing that same dead man's lift from Stumbos-4, weights of feathers yet worlds upon her shoulders, she became a human bullet over the balcony and across the Hudson, reaching Taco Bellevue in a virtual eye-blink. Propping her fallen crew—still leaking a deal—on a spare bed, one doctor doing their rounds had caught and yelled after her.
"Hey excuse me, what's the meaning of this? Not taking a number aside, the morgue's on the other side!"
"A number I've got, a place YOU'LL occupy, if you don't get to work." Leela had hissed. "And that's if I feel like leaving you in one piece."
Reducing a table to woodchips to emphasise the threat, it wasn't long before orders were heeded, the doctor got to work, and she left for home. Well after midnight when she depowered and collapsed onto the bed, once again the lowlight reel she had just gotten to ignore.
Thought it'd never get worse than the 'Space Honey' mission, when it came to obsessions costing lives. Remembered how the collection irked them, how stealing their baby Queen could've provoked them, how Bender's waspy language riled those Buick-sized monsters.
They'd attack by bombing hundreds of stingers towards them in a jetpack-fuelled game of one-and-done dodgeball. One sting, they died. Somehow boarded the ship, somehow escaped the hive, and somehow thought nothing of the queen growing up, getting scared, and going hostile onboard.
Fry stood to defend his love; got a frying pan-sized hole in his gut for the trouble. She just a tiny nick, but all of the poison, to Fry's agony as he seized control.
Was two weeks of hell despite her special genetics, imprisoned in a battleground of her own making. Might've been forever if not for Fry's sprint to her room, his simple surgery done despite restraints. Where he'd sit by her side and talk, just show his care, for every minute of the twenty thousand to pass.
In being possessed over such memories and good times before, she'd been forgetting the here and now of her duties & responsibilities.
A final thought of "What the hell am I going to do?", as she tried once more to shut eye for the night.
¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)
Arriving more a car-crash victim than Captain, Leela had tromped in totalled and tight-lipped towards the Monday conference. Didn't care for pleasantries, how things went after the dance, or how she spent her weekend; might've let slip an admission to sack her early.
Trying to juggle steady deliveries, staff callouts and what she called 'daily checkups', the week along with her hopes had worn down fast. An issue even The Professor began to notice, booking her for quote, "mandatory" evaluations with Dr. Zoidberg.
Not to her face of course; only heard such news when Hermes called across to chastise her. Being the Captain and Head Pilot took a patience, a sound mind; both went into nosedive as she reached next door.
His tattling creating her mess aside, Leela had gotten so on edge that she could've suspected it to be a put-up job. Especially for it becoming several appointments of him trying to crack her gourd open—after losing the hammer, just an airstrike of questions over the days.
"Why do you close off from everybody, why always with the temper?"
Leela just clenched fists and bared her teeth; sooner make thermidor of him than talk…
"Your parents push you to study medicine? You get no respect from your friends? Struggle to eat enough to survive?"
Only a snarl as the crab slammed his claws down, soon getting in her face.
"Damn it Captain, I'm trying to help! Could you just answer me for once?"
"Why would I do that? Those big flappers of yours always gets ME in trouble, and in the truest three words you'll hear, I hate you!"
"I knew it, I knew the parents were involved… No cold soup tins for Zoidberg tonight!"
"You'll get an absolute zero can of whoop-ass in a minute… For one, I spent years becoming a PILOT to SEARCH for my parents. Virtually since I was born, I NEVER had friends of any respect. And even compared to you, do I look like the type to be starving?"
"No wonder you harbour such resentment. When even I for all my problems can have friends..."
An immediate double-take: "What, what, WHAT?! Of everyone I've known, you have friends? How? You've destroyed every crewman under your claw, you've led us into disaster again & again, and you smell like The Reaper itself took a year-long soak in sewage! Who in their right mind, hell any mind, would befriend you?"
"You'd be surprised, Captain. The lone thing besides cutting, that everyone keeps me for, is to shun and simply hate me. What else would be agreed on, otherwise? But then you get the rare ones…"
"Oh, this oughta be good. There's the stage."
A claw clacked to his chin: "Well, Professor and I are old war buddies; he saved my life, I came here to repay that favour. That young man What's-His-Name; wasn't the friendliest sort, but had genuine gratitude to give. And Fry as well, my apologies for saying so. Only one to never hit me at work, even against all I did to him."
Leela could only splutter noises; knew her boyfriend sometimes made the dimmest bulbs quite bright, but to form THAT kind of friendship? Never gave the other words any thought as she again glared at Zoidberg, requesting why he'd ask such personal questions. After all, she knew how quick he'd rat her out for a minnow.
Either sensing danger or indeed, such calls to lunch, Zoidberg suddenly declared their time over, and scuttled out of his office. After a rant about wasting her time and how useless he was, Leela returned to the hangar, looking to work off such frustration before hitting the lockers instead.
She'd only be a couple of minutes out, if that, but her 'daily check-up' was rather overdue.
¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)¸.·ˆ¯)
Two minutes became twenty, as she rubbed cream down her charge once more. A chance to collect some thoughts and perspective by his side, a move to grasp his hand.
"Don't know if you'll hear me kid, but if I can't reach out, may you find the peace I never gave."
Had walked off on that note, winding up in an end-of-day meeting about productivity talks and deadline reminders. Well-wishes exchanged, goodbyes given, and a tolling of an eccentric new addition… A New York Stock Exchange lookalike bell.
Between customer complaints and close encounters, everyone had looked towards the weekend. Leela only saw the great big cannon or old warship in her future, stamped forever as one of those countless lost causes.
Least in impending death, she had her workout haven, plenty of 'security' coffees and a wealth of fond reminiscence over footage old & new. Could've talked to those tapes all day, at least, until she gathered an idea.
"Oh before I forget Computer, keep an eye on that hangar hole, back wall for me. And please, be subtle about it."
Hours upon hours of such conversations had drifted her away to sleep, head on her arms and snoring away. Seemed to be having an okay dream for once, judging by lacks of sudden jerks, until the computer started to "Psst" at her in ever-growing volume.
"Great Heaven's Gate, what the hell is it?"
"A black-cladded sort's come in, just headed right for the lockers. And excuse me my subtle ways."
"Finally, some action to handle… You're excused."
Theories and thoughts pulsing in her head, she'd admit to certain surprise that she was bearing witness to a break-and-enter. Never would've thought such overtime could pay off, in this way…
Pacing around the conference room, peeking glances at her wrist device and the wall of footage, there'd been hesitance towards rushing her crook, especially if under that shadow laid a frightful alien or a desperate junkie. Of all times to put her cream away…
But after a little thinking, Leela had figured out what she could do against the intruder. A little of that good old-fashioned grease, a clear command or two, and perhaps a quick submission to reveal the would-be culprit.
After a handspring over the railing, and a gentle drop to the floor, she had soon reached the tool rack to seize that Pi-in-One oil bottle, squirting a generous puddle by that door. Hiding around the corner, all there was to do was wait for the slip and scream.
One way or another, she was going to achieve answers of her own…
Found herself playing a lot of Solo Pong before she encountered the would-be crook. One whose foot almost met their head as they crash-landed on their back. Tried to get up quick, but soon got caught in a armbar, fears of not just being caught dead to rights, but of having bones broken too.
"Ohhh shiiittt…"
"Cooperate, and I won't break every bone in your body, starting with this arm. Why are you here?"
"Just to deliver a message, that's all."
"Is that so? Small movements only, hands behind your head. Comply, or wish to die."
Swore she saw a flinch as she reached out and searched, finally snatching something from a pants pocket. About the same size as her 'READ ME' card, guessed it wouldn't be War & Peace.
"Just when I thought I had it all together, especially for leaving parts behind. Now what's your plan to end my story?"
"Haven't decided yet, but if you're after something simple, you picked the wrong joint for that, pal."
"Lady, by all means educate the master. Just one request though, could I learn something else?"
"Ever seen how to kill someone from a wrist flick?"
"Boring. Already learnt so much from you first-hand. Maybe enough to knock a sense of hope, of goodness into me."
"Oh really? I could entertain a prompt exit out of an airlock sometime. Now how about you shut your mouth, while I read your letter?"
She ripped the envelope open, unfolded the note, and gave it a quick scan. Had about the same reaction as when she received her Miracle Creams…
As one taketh and one giveth back, I guess I've been reached. Call's yours, say where and when.
- TM
Might've ripped the hood from the stitching once she saw it; true from burn scar to black beard, there stood none other than her charge. Far from the flesh-eaten monster she left him as, her creams and 'treatments' had left only a footnote of that damage.
Though he still remained in rather a mood, he had looked orders better compared to last week.
"Is my eye playing trick on me?"
"I didn't believe it myself, back at hospital or in the showers, so why don't you tell me?"
Felt her tube of cream tossed back into her hands, and could've sat down for the breaths of relief.
"I'll be damned, it is you! How 'bout tonight, your place?"
"Straight to the unfinished business, huh? Guess after all you've done, I could make the time."
The deal sealed via a handshake, the Captain and Mayfield left out the hangar towards the bus terminal. One great weight off both their shoulders, and hopefully at least one more soon to follow.