Hypnotoad was on, but it had been in decline since the third season, so Fry wasn't really surprised to find no-one watching it. In fact, at first glance he thought he had the employee lounge to himself. It was a moment before he noticed Zoidberg - skulking in the corner and chewing furtively on the leaves of a potted plant - and . . . Leela. Leela was here too, sitting at the table and staring vacantly into space, like she had a lot on her mind. Every now and then she touched her wedding band, only to draw her hand back as though burned.
Fry hovered awkwardly for a minute. Part of him wanted to leave, because he knew there was a really unpleasant conversation scheduled for the next time he saw Leela, and he really didn't want to hear it. He had been avoiding her for days, just so he wouldn't have to hear it. But now she was here, and he couldn't just leave her. She looked so miserable, and even though he couldn't help feeling like having sex with her (either time) hadn't really been his decision, he still felt guilty. So he cracked open a Slurm and sat down opposite her, steeling himself for the worst.
Surprisingly, it didn't come. When Leela finally noticed him, she merely blinked and looked sad, or confused, or some other emotion Fry didn't have a hope in hell of identifying.
She stared at him for a moment, at a loss. Fry took a nervous swig of his Slurm, and then another, as Leela watched the can's progress from the table to his mouth. He was raising it a third time when her hand shot out unexpectedly and grabbed it. She took a gulp and forced a smile.
"Hi, Fry."
"Uh. Hey, Leela . . ."
His voice came out sounding a lot more high-pitched than he'd meant it to. Great. Now she'd know he was thinking about having sex with her, and how great it was. And also confusing. And also kind of . . . the most amazing thing that had ever happened, in any universe, ever. And then she'd probably be mad, and never have sex with him again.
Leela sighed. "I don't know what to do," she said softly. "I don't even know what to think anymore, Fry. I'm so confused."
Fry swallowed. Leela was hurting, and that wasn't right, but he didn't know how to fix it. She was supposed to know how to fix it – she always did. That was how it went. Fry stuffed up and lost all hope, and Leela did whatever she thought was right, even if it hurt him, because she understood this stuff. Fry knew about love, but Leela knew about relationships. If she stuffed up it was only because the lucky guy she was with was a loser who didn't deserve her.
Now I'm the loser, Fry thought absently. And I'm not even lucky! Though I would be if I had my seven-leaf clover . . .
And then it hit him. He reached for Leela's hand.
"Come with me."
Leela hesitated, and Fry felt a sudden surge of embarrassment – maybe he shouldn't be doing this, maybe he should have hung back – but then she nodded and stood up.
"Okay."