I extend my usual gratitude towards those who reviewed my last chapter. Always appreciated. As to the statement that it was surprising that Fry didn't throw any punches or anything, Fry isn't exactly himself right now.

Also, fair warning, I may have to up the rating in a couple of chapters. I don't plan anything more than what Futurama normally shows but the restrictions mention "adult themes" and I really don't know where that particular line is drawn. Better to play it safe if things pan out the way they seem to be going in my head.

In the meantime, thanks for reading. Any and all feedback is still welcome.

Fry and Leela were lounging on the couch in the Planet Express lounge, neither of them particularly paying attention to whatever mindless thing was playing on TV beyond occasional glances at it while reaching for another chip. Leela stretched out her leg and deftly plucked one from the bowl, dipped it and popped it into her mouth. It was a familiar and comfortable scene they'd played out many times before. If only she could keep her eye from wandering back to that damned hat.

Leela clenched her jaw and turned the page of her magazine, willing herself not to look at it again. Every time she did she had to fight a powerful desire to crush the lousy thing with her bare hands and free Fry from it forever. Tomorrow wasn't soon enough, she wanted that thing off of him now.

She'd been ready for a fight this morning. She had been sure that Fry would be angry and ready to beat some apologies out of the others. At the very least she'd expected shouting or a flipped table or something. Instead all she got out of him was a muted indifference. Or maybe it was more like resignation. It wasn't right. Certainly he'd never been as prone to violence as she was but he wasn't exactly the Dali Lama either. It was as though he just couldn't muster the energy to be angry and had given up trying.

With an unpleasant jolt she realized she was staring at the hat again and forced her eye back down to the magazine. If Fry had noticed her rudeness he gave no sign of it. He was still reading his comic book and not in the fake 'staring at the same page for five minutes way' he'd done with the menu. He actually seemed to be reading it like a normal person would, cover to cover with no difficulty. Typically he'd have to flip back and forth between pages a few times before he'd move on. It wasn't as though he was illiterate (though he did have to ask her about words from time to time) he just needed the repetition to make each panel sink in past the barrier of his poor attention span.

In a weird way it was actually a nice change. She still wanted the old Fry back but there was no denying his learning disability was something he struggled with. It made her feel guilty to be so eager to take away all the benefits he was experiencing because of her selfish insecurity. But, then, it wasn't just that anymore, was it? The hat needed to come off tomorrow or it would kill him, simple as that. That was a perfectly legitimate reason that had nothing to do with her.

She ate another chip and chewed more violently than was strictly necessary. What was she so worried about anyway? It was Fry after all. The guy who chased her for years trying to get a date. No matter how many other people she dated or how many horrible mutant abnormalities he found out about Fry had remained annoyingly persistent.

More than one guy had been driven off by something as minor as her elbow talons. Fry was the only guy who wasn't even put off by the egg thing. And sure, he'd screamed when he saw her fully squidified body the first time but he'd gotten over it quickly. Hell, the horribly disgusting (yet sweet and meaningful) night they'd spent together in Zoidberg's and Farnsworth's bodies should have been enough to convince her that he wasn't just in love with her body by itself but a lifetime of rejection and revulsion made for some hard to break mental habits.

But then again, that was regular Fry. Stupid Fry. What was smart Fry thinking about her? Was he realizing just how huge and hideously round her solitary eye was? Countless people without Fry's problems had recoiled in horror at the sight of it before and now Fry was just like them. Would he avoid her eye the next time they spoke? Would he give her elbows a wide berth when they walked next to each other? Would he shudder in disgust the next time he looked at an egg or a squid? Would he ask why she didn't dye her hair? What if he decided she was too nosy, bossy and angry? What if he didn't go all the way back to normal? What if he noticed all these things now and remembered them even after losing the extra intelligence?

Leela turned the next page too hard, ripping it clean out. She was being stupid. He'd said he loved her a million and one times. He'd tried sacrificing his life for her more than once. He was Fry. He wasn't going to break off their whatever-it-was just because of a few normal thoughts. The torn out page crumpled in her fist.

He wouldn't do that. Not him, not ever. She didn't care what she believed right now, she was wrong and was going to have to deal with that.

Fry wasn't going anywhere and that was the end of it.

–

The comic book was just not getting through to him. Fry turned the page anyway, abandoning any attempt at comprehension and just let his eyes focus in the general direction of the pictures.

Tomorrow. It kept popping up like ads on the Internet, demanding his attention like a screaming hell-bat. Tomorrow he'd be an idiot again. Tomorrow he'd be back to being the guy everyone laughed at behind his back for being beyond stupid. The worst part was that tomorrow... tomorrow he wouldn't even understand what that meant anymore. Not for long enough stretches to do anything about it, anyway. Bender would steal his money and they'd all have a big laugh at him about it right up until Fry wanted to do something nice for Leela and realized he was broke again. And Leela...

Oh god, Leela. Leela was so far out of his normal self's league it wasn't funny. She was the intelligent, strong, drop dead gorgeous woman of the 31st century, how could anyone resist her? How many women could beat the crap out of a robot? How many would stand up to an army of liquid people to save the neck of a guy who had been so thoughtless to her only hours before? And how many of them could actually pull it off, scale the side of the palace and then have the solution to saving his life?

Ships computer goes insane? Leela shuts it down. About to crash into a planet because Zapp Brannigan had locked the autopilot? Leela knew what to do. Who could have known Bender would get so upset about him moving out? Leela had. Who would ever possibly trust him even when he was working for a man who was trying to explode an entire star? Nobody but Leela.

The fact that she was a few notches above hot on top of all that was a bonus. An incredible bonus but still just icing on the cake. Even after Mom had given Leela the cure for squidification it had taken her more than a week to revert all the way to normal. It'd been weird and left him covered in sucker marks but all he had needed to do was take one look into her beautiful eye to know there was nowhere else he'd rather be.

The sound of tearing paper jarred his attention away from how far above him Leela was. He looked up at the TV but it was showing a commercial for Charleston Chew. That only left Leela, who was now crumpling a torn out page in her hand. That in itself wasn't so unusual with her temper being as volatile as it was. However, normally she'd be glaring at the magazine and muttering to herself about whatever she had pissed her off, instead she was glowering into space without a sound.

Fry hadn't noticed anything happening in the last few minutes that could have set her off. He hadn't said anything stupid and, as far as Fry knew at least, Bender was still busy tracking down everything Leela had torn off that morning. The pieces fell into place in a heartbeat when he realized that the only other thing that had happened was the Professors warning.

Leela didn't want the old Fry back.

First she'd been weirded out by his change. That was a natural enough reaction though. When Fry had first seen Leela's eye he'd been startled and even a little disturbed by it. It hadn't taken him long to get past that and now he wouldn't have her any other way. Leela must have gotten used to him not being a bonehead and now she wanted him to keep not being a bonehead.

He'd thought he was being careful. It hadn't taken long for him to remember the parasites and how badly that had ended. This time he'd avoided using fancy words and trying to be romantic. He hadn't tried to do things he was normally bad at like math or anything. In hindsight he probably should have tried to act more incompetent. Leela liked competence and what he'd shown during that delivery must have been enough for her to get attached. Now it was have the boyfriend she really wanted but only for a short time or put up with an idiot for years to come.

And Kirk thought he had dealt with no-win scenarios. Life without Leela or death. Maybe the universe just liked to punish people who screwed with causality? It would explain how much it seemed to hate him sometimes.

–

Leela absentmindedly tightened down a lose bolt at the base of one of Bessie's lower fins with the air of someone trying to keep their hands busy. It was like living in a slightly more lucid version of The Scary Door. 'The day that wouldn't end!' Tomorrow felt like it was an eternity or two away and Fry was acting increasingly distant. They needed to talk but what would she say? 'I know I'm a gross mutant but please put up with it'? She needed to say something though. He search for ideas wasn't helped by the fact that she was distractingly hungry. Ever since she'd stolen a lunch that turned out to be one of Fry's organs she'd stopped raiding the company fridge. This would be less of a problem if hunger didn't have a way of shortening her patience.

Leela looked up from the fin to the briefing room balcony. Seeing Fry passing through the area she tossed her wrench aside and made a beeline for the stairs. Now was as good a time as any to get things sorted out.

"Fry!" she called after him right before he stepped through to the lab. He looked back and waited for her to catch up to him.

"What's up?" he asked. Leela thought his voice sounded tense, like someone bracing for an argument. Not the best sign.

"I think we need to talk," she said.

Fry sighed and gestured to the table. "You're probably right. Let's sit down." They took adjacent seats at the conference table and both waited for the other to make the first move.

"Sooo..." Fry said after nearly 30 seconds silence. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Leela echoed. Fry held her gaze for a few seconds then looked down at the table with a sigh.

"I don't think I can keep going with things," he said. "Everything feels different."

Leela felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. "Isn't that a little hasty? It's only been a few days..."

"You really think that can't change things?" Fry countered. "I can't just go back to how things were anymore."

"Why not?" Leela asked sharply. "You feel like you're too good for it now?"

Fry leaned away, apparently taken aback for a moment. The moment passed quickly however and his expression hardened.

"You know what? Maybe I do. Maybe I'm sick of it all. Who on Earth could blame me?"

Leela stood up. "So that's how it is, huh? Do you have any idea how difficult you can be to deal with? It's a full time job just keeping you alive."

"Well then you should be HAPPY!" Fry shouted. He stood up fast enough to knock over his chair. "Isn't this what you always wanted? I guess I should have known better. You're never happy no matter WHAT I do!"

"Oh yeah!? Well then maybe you should just give up and GET LOST!"

"FINE!" With that both of them turned their backs on each other and stormed away.

Leela strode through the building to the locker room and started digging in her locker for a photo of Fry to tape to her punching bag. Instead, on the top shelf she found her chicken hat. She yanked the stupid thing out of her locker, took hold of it with both hands fully prepared to tear it in half. She could still see Fry dancing on that table with an identical hat on in what had been one of the most humiliating displays of her life. She'd hated him for it. For acting like such a primitive dolt at Oktoberfest of all places.

Then she'd found his hair and clothes in that sausage and all she had wanted was to see his stupid face again.

The tension drained out of her arms, the hat still intact. Fry had told her he'd brought it back up after he'd fallen down that manhole she'd left open during her aborted attempt to move to the sewers. ...He'd been so happy to see her again in Mom's floating castle. All Leela had been was afraid of how he'd react. Afraid he'd turn his back on her forever. Now it had finally happened. It was over. Honestly and truly over.

Leela sank onto the bench, hugged the silly little hat to her chest and sniffed back tears.

"Oh god, I'm such an idiot..."

–

Fry stomped his way into Benders closet. He'd managed to hold onto his rage all the way home and he saw no reason to stop being furious now. The place was mercifully empty besides the usual debris he left scattered about any place he lived in long enough. Leela used to nag him about it when she came over even when he'd made an effort to clear out the living room for her. That was Leela though. Never happy about anything.

He made his way to his bedroom and flopped backward onto his mattress. A glint of purple caught his attention from the corner of his eye. His holophonor was sitting on the bedside table. Speaking of things that were never enough for Leela. It was the robot hands all over again. Give up something that made him better or pay a horrible price to keep it. He reached out for the instrument and held it up for a better look. How long had he been practicing it to impress her? How much money had he burned up on lessons where he was routinely bested by little kids? When he played he could still hear the music in his head, begging to be made real but never making it out. His hopes of ever playing the thing properly again were as empty as that theater had been. Dark, everyone gone... except for Leela.

"Please don't stop playing, Fry," she'd said. "I want to hear how it ends."

Fry let his arm drop to his side. He stared up at the bare ceiling and felt the anger slip through his fingers.

"What have I done...?"