Chapter 3:

I can hear my heart pounding in my large ears as this information sinks in. Clutching the kitchen tool to my chest, I look around frantically. Can anyone tell that I'm in love? That I'm weak? That I'm gay? I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a ladle; my cheeks are bright red and my pink eyes are wide.

Forcing myself to slow my breathing, I push away my paranoid thoughts. No one can see what I feel. No one has to know.

"This is a fine mess..." I mutter.

"I'm sorry?"

I jump slightly. Deep in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed that I had wandered into the checkout line, nor that it was my turn to pay. Hastily, I set the garnish-maker on the conveyor belt and toss a few bills at the cashier.

"So, you're awfully small, honey."

I stifle a groan. Small talk: the bane of my existence.

"Actually, I am a...a homosexual lab mouse buying a present for my companion in my quest to take over the world."

She blinks once, shrugs it off, then finished bagging my purchase.

"Have a nice day!"

I don't reply, launching back into my ponderings.

What if Snowball discovers my foolish folly? He would never take me seriously as an opponent again: after all, what kind of dictator falls for such a moron? He might even use my emotions against me—what if he threatens Pinky in exchange for my world domination strategies? I would be helpless!

Noticing that my heart is speeding again, I make myself take another deep breath and massage my head. No, not a soul must discover this fact. Not even...

Pinky!

I mustn't let him find out, either! What if he doesn't return the feelings? What if he does? The outcomes are equally frightening.

Exhaling deeply, I consider the terrible possibility that he might already be aware, considering how close we are. But then, I remember the miserable, despondent look that appeared on his sweet face whenever I mentioned food pellets; with his intellect, it was likely that Pinky was fully convinced that they were the only reason I wanted him back. No, he definitely doesn't know.

Pinky...?

Troz! He said you could have the world, and all I had to give him was my soul. You said I was a speckless nougat, anyway—it seemed like such a bargain!

Pinky, what have you done?!

And that's why he left in the first place.

My eyes widen at the memory. It's not like I want Pinky to know how I feel, but could he really think I don't care at all?

Why else would he make that deal with the devil?

The idea stings my heart. I had been willing to give up not only the world, but even the possibility of conquest for him, and he still thinks I don't value him?

Well, I did claim it was for the food pellets. And it's not like Pinky is the sharpest knife in the drawer...for him to know I care, I would have to tell him directly.

My eyes widen, and I slap my own face, muttering, "pull yourself together, Brain." Expressing my feelings to Pinky is not an option, and I'm furious with myself for even considering it. There are numerous of reasons why I should keep my mouth shut—world conquest should be my only focus, it would make me vulnerable, the information could easily fall into the wrong paws, the emotion would become harder to repress—and only one reason to tell: if Pinky knows how much I really care, it might keep him from leaving my side again.

The pain I feel at the thought of losing the only mouse I've ever truly loved overrides logic. Finally reaching the lab, I open up the tool's packaging and grab a radish and a skewer from the kitchen. I ignore the protests of my analytical mind and start walking toward our home, where I can hear the squeak of Pinky's wheel. Holding the "whatchamawhozits" behind my back and a radish rose out in front of me, I step into the cage.

"Pinky...I have something to tell you."

A/N: The quote is from "A Pinky and the Brain Halloween," btw.