Chapter 2: Application
"It was awful. Right in the middle of the cafeteria, she ripped into him like nobody's business."
Ben was hindering Dexter as they set the table for dinner. OCD in the extreme when it came to such things, Dexter was following behind Ben and fixing it so that every plate and glass and piece of silverware was set out with mathematical precision. Completely used to such anal conduct out of his boyfriend, Ben thought nothing of it. It was easier just to let Dexter fuss. Besides, it gave them some time alone and in the end the dinner table would look like something out of a magazine. Dexter's presence in the suite at this time of day was reassuring – it meant he was caught up enough with his work and homework to devote an evening to his family and, better still, his boyfriend.
"Did Nigel defend himself?" Dexter asked softly. While not as close to the KND leader as Ben, Dexter knew and liked Nigel and communicated with him often. He had a rare and healthy respect for the young man's leadership skills, dedication, and ability to use mostly correct punctuation in his reports.
"A bit. He definitely got in the decisive salvo. It took her a bit to figure out he'd sunk her battleship. I think he just gave up, really. He and Lizzie have had their ups and downs. I think he's always felt guilty about having to run off on her for missions and stuff."
"A fact she exploited."
"Yeah. She wanted the relationship more than he did. From the look of things lately she's been pretty demanding of his time."
"Do you know if she's ever tried to appreciate his position?"
Ben made a face. "Doubt it. Lizzie wants what she wants, when she wants it."
"She's jealous of the KND in its entirety," reasoned Dexter, impressed at how much she'd bitten off.
"Like Nigel wanted to be saddled with the whole organization."
"Didn't he?" questioned Dexter, looking up from his efforts to align two sets of salt and pepper shakers on opposite corners of the table. "He could have said no."
The brunet made a face. "Not really. Who else could take over now that we've lost touch with the moon?"
"Number Five is highly capable."
Coming from the founder of DexLabs and DexCorp, that was high praise. Ben set about nudging a fork in one of Dexter's perfect place settings just to keep him occupied. "Nigel's more capable. Besides, she doesn't want command."
The Boy Genius nodded, swatting Ben's hands away from his latest masterpiece. "Do you think Ms. Devine was trying to force him to choose between her and the Kids Next Door?"
"If she was, it was some pretty poor strategy."
"Ultimatums rarely have the desired effect." He looked up at Ben. "How is Nigel taking this break-up?"
"He's as upset as he is relieved, I think."
"Then they were not a good match."
Ben smiled fondly, thinking of how perfectly matched he and Dexter were despite their many differences and how many lessons it had taken for him to realize as much. Catching the look, Dexter smiled back, knowing exactly what Ben was thinking and silently agreeing.
"No. But this brings us to another problem."
"Getting used to command?" suggested Dexter, shifting the butter dish a fraction of an inch. He stood back to study the results with a critical eye, then edged it back where it had started.
"That's not a problem. He can handle being KND Supreme Leader."
"So what's your concern?"
"His health. If nothing else, Lizzie made sure he slowed down long enough to eat now and then."
Alerted by his boyfriend's tone, Dexter waited, wordlessly inviting Ben to keep talking. Knowing he could trust Dexter absolutely, Ben nonetheless said, "This can't go past this room, Dex, but Nigel's got some issues."
Dexter, who through personal experience understood the many nuances of issues very well, lay off arranging the butter dish. He ran through a mental list of everything he knew about Nigel Uno and possible triggers before he quietly asked, "With a mirror or food?"
"Yes."
"Is it the lack of hair?"
"Not even."
"Body image?"
He nodded. "There was some incident with the Delightful Children at the beach a few years back. The rest of Sector V teasing him about it made him self-conscious to the point that he didn't want to eat anything."
"Is that why you two always get together for food when you're here?"
"Yeah. If he's got company, he'll usually eat. Leave him alone, he's worse than you."
"Oh, that is bad," agreed the Boy Genius, in no way insulted. It wasn't that Dexter was averse to eating, he just couldn't do it in his laboratory and when he got on a scientific tear there was no prying him out of there. Food was not a priority in his life, and Professor Utonium spent a great deal of time trying to get Dexter to eat anything at all, let alone a balanced diet.
"Yeah, but in your case it's just a lack of interest, not anything psychological."
"Most of the time," corrected Dexter gamely. He suffered from severe depression and a number of phobias that could and did affect his health directly, but he, his family, and his boyfriend were quite adept at dealing with those problems. "Teasing . . . can do a lot of damage. Words can hurt worse than blows, and the marks don't always fade."
"I know," he replied, knowing exactly where Dexter was coming from. "I don't want him to mope or to get off his feed. We don't have time for that and he's too important to let this affect him."
"Not to mention Lizzie must be denied victory of any sort at all costs."
"And that, yeah. He's my friend. I want him happy."
Dexter nodded his understanding of this simple wish. "So . . . what's your solution?"
He had been waiting for this opening. "I'm going to find someone to go out with him."
Dexter stared, unknowingly giving Ben the exact same look of shocked disbelief that Nigel had only an hour before.
"You? You will find Nigel a date? Is he okay with you doing this?"
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dex!" he defended. "Why is it so impossible that I find someone to go out with my friend?"
"Because your pickup lines suck, Benjamin."
"Hey!"
"And I quote, Pincerless biped of superior, rosen-hued intelligence, may I dance in your footsteps that we may be one? End quote." He gave Ben a pointed look, his blue eyes glittering with mischievous amusement. "Shall I go on?"
Ben blushed, still embarrassed at the memory of Brainstorm's horribly awkward attempt to woo Dexter. "Not fair! I am not responsible for anything some lovesick Cerebrocrustatian spews out!" A thought struck him. "And, hey! You were considering it! So it didn't suck that badly."
Dexter broke into a broad smile, delighted at having gotten a rise out of Ben. He was one of the few people Dexter could safely tease, seeing as how most people didn't get his sense of humor. "Such lauds could only possibly appeal to me. Besides, I couldn't see any other way to shut you up, my love."
"I am so going to exploit that fact," Ben shot back.
"Oh, please do," begged Dexter without skipping a beat.
"Bet on it, kiddo."
"Tonight?"
"Promise."
Dexter gave him a sly and happy look and went back to needlessly fussing over the table settings. "So what's the plan?"
"Uh . . . good question. Any ideas, Mr. CEO?"
At the mention of his title, Dexter snapped in business mogul mode. "You need to find and screen likely candidates based on Nigel's preferences and needs."
"Okay. Keep talking. How do we find these people?"
Surprised to find himself included on the scheme, let alone the one in charge, Dexter blinked. Used to running a corporation, he fell back on what he knew. "Applications? Personal recommendations? Resumés?"
Ben considered. Never having applied for a job, he was at a bit of a loss but was willing to go with whatever Dexter might devise. "Applications?" he echoed.
"They have the advantage of attracting a wide range of candidates."
"What are the disadvantages?"
"They attract a wide range of candidates."
"Gotcha. Well, we've only got five days. We've got to come up with some sort of Nigel-centric questionnaire."
"What specifications did he have?"
"No aliens, animals, robots, or anything from Hell."
"He wasn't gender-specific?"
"Nope."
"Good. That will open the field of applicants even more." Behind thick lenses, Dexter's eyes narrowed. "I reserve the right to screen the applications first."
Ben sucked in a deep breath, ready to protest. Dexter cut him off with ruthless finality, and in two words went straight for the jugular:
"Spelling counts."
The brunet gaped. Dexter dug in his heels.
"I won't allow Nigel to date a moron."
"Okay." He raised his hands, willing to cede the point. "Okay, but don't be too hard on the punctuation. We won't have anyone to interview."
It was Dexter's turn to give, and he did so with considerably less grace than his boyfriend. "Fine. But if they want to date the KND Supreme Leader, then perhaps they shouldn't have goofed off in English class in the first place."
()()()()()()()()()()
"So," Professor Utonium said, serving himself some lasagna, "How was everyone's day?"
"I finished reading the first Harry Potter book in Mandarin," volunteered Blossom, adding another meatball to her plate.
"I rescued a kitten from up a tree in DownTown Park," Bubbles said, getting crazy with the Parmesan cheese.
"I kicked the Fusion Buttercup's butt back to Shelbyville when she showed up this afternoon," gloated Buttercup, drowning her lasagna in marinara.
"I isolated the base components of an acid that will dissolve cement in seconds," Dexter added, sneaking another serving of salad.
"I told Nigel I'd find him a date for Friday night after Lizzie dumped him," said Ben and sent crumbs wide as he bit into some garlic bread.
There was a noticeable pause as all the Utoniums tried to absorb this particularly fantastic statement. All eyes turned on Ben, who munched away happily, well on his way to a world-class case of dragon breath. They all knew and liked Nigel, and so this news came as quite the surprise, the breakup as much as Ben's plan.
The Professor recovered first. "Care to expand on that?"
Ben's mouth being full of garlic bread, Dexter spoke before his boyfriend could even try to force the words past the half-chewed mass.
"Apparently Lizzie once again reached the end of her tolerance for not being Nigel's first priority. She broke up with him in the cafeteria today while it was at its busiest point."
Ben made a noise, pointing and nodding in agreement.
"Yeah, nobody saw that coming," smirked Buttercup.
"Well, it's far better and healthier for Nigel to have someone looking after him," continued Dexter, skipping over the reasons behind this statement. He glanced at Ben, nudging his foot under the table. "I can say this with authority based on personal experience."
"Yeah, well, you'd better eat some garlic bread too, Mr. Personal Experience," Buttercup advised as Ben mowed down on another piece of the strong-smelling stuff. "Before you get fumigated."
With a little hum of agreement (and concern), the redhead continued. "Ben has proposed -"
Had he dropped a live grenade on the table, the Powerpuff Girls could not have reacted faster. Ear-splitting squeals erupted from all sides as his words were completely, enthusiastically misinterpreted.
"He has?"
"He did?"
"When's the wedding?"
"What?" wondered Dexter, stunned.
"Letmeseethering! Letmeseethering!" begged Bubbles, grabbing his hand.
Beside him, Ben struggled to swallow without choking.
"I'm so happy for you! When's the wedding?" demanded Blossom.
"Screw that!" yelled Buttercup. "Who's the bride?"
"Ooooh! Oooh! Oooh! I can't believe I haven't written any fanfic for this yet!" Bubbles gushed, producing more happy squeals from the girls and agonized groans from the boys.
At the head of the table, Patrick Utonium fought to contain his laughter. "Girls, calm down. I don't think it's that sort of proposal. Am I right, Ben?"
"Yes!" squeaked the Wielder of the Omnitrix, getting his panic under control.
Disappointed whines rose up and the Powerpuff Girls slumped back to their chairs.
"There's a lesson there, Dexter," warned his guardian.
"Ja," agreed the genius. "In rhetoric."
()()()()()()()()()()
They snuggled together on a loveseat in the great room of the suite, pouring over the tablet in Dexter's hands as they tackled the problem of getting Nigel a date. Once it was explained to them, Dexter's sisters were delighted with the project and were itching to see the results. Ben suspected Nigel was already guest starring in some of Bubbles' stories. The Professor was simply amused and sat back to enjoy the show.
"So. Here's the finalized form. It's pretty basic." As he spoke Dexter handed over the tablet to Ben, then leaned heavily against him to gauge his reaction. "I'm placing you in charge of marketing."
"Can I borrow Computress to get the word out?"
"Yes. We can also utilize Dexbots in the distribution and collection of the applications."
"Sweet."
He looked at the application. True to form, Dexter had a disclaimer relieving him, Ben, Nigel, and DexLabs of any responsibility and that filling out the form did not guarantee a date with Nigel. Confidentiality was confirmed, as was the timeline.
"We have to move fast. Interviews are Thursday and Friday. You can use the private dining room off the cafeteria."
"Interviews?" asked Ben.
"Ben, you can't just hand Nigel over to someone we can't stand," insisted the redhead as if this was the most obvious thing imaginable. "We're trying to avoid a second Lizzie."
That made sense. Maybe he could lasso Hoagie or Edd into helping him. This was turning out more complex than he'd anticipated, but the whole idea had been an impulsive one and no one could accuse Benjamin Kirby Tennyson of thinking things through to the end (though Dexter could be relied upon to overthink everything). He looked at the list of questions they had come up with, pressing a hand to his mouth as he concentrated.
All answers must be written in blue ink. Please write clearly.
Name:
Age:
Affiliation:
Sex:
Contact number or email:
What do you know about Nigel Uno?
Why do you want to go out with him?
Why would he want to go out with you?
What is your idea of a perfect date?
Are you familiar with the KND? Do you have any issue with being stood up because of missions? Battles? Top secret tasks that can't be divulged?
What likes and dislikes do you have? Please list all weird habits.
"What's this about using blue ink? You got stock in it?"
"That's just to see who's paying attention and following directions."
"Dex . . ."
"Fine. Take it out."
Shaking his head, Ben did so. "Looks good to me."
He took the tablet back. "Computress will print them up. How many would you like?"
"I dunno. Let's start with a hundred, just to be on the safe side."
Dexter blinked, a bit concerned about the quantity, but trusting Ben, he hit the print button. "A hundred it is, my love."