A / N : Thank you LadyBender, Kaci, Elphaba818, dia and Frogspell16860 for the reviews. (Holy crap, I'll hit a hundred soon. Futurama – it's the fandom that can't be killed!)

"I'm a sewer mutant."

If words had weight, those would have hit the floor with a clang. Usually, saying them out loud left Leela feeling like she'd just announced she was the only person in the room with leprosy. People would stare and blink a lot, dumbfounded, and then start to say things like : "Is it contagious?" and "So does your flesh really fall off?" and, sooner or later, "Oh my, look at the time!"

They weren't words calculated to make friends. Even people who had known her for years, like Cubert and LaBarbara, had been visibly squicked-out the first time she told them. LaBarbara seemed to get around it the same way Amy had – by boxing the information somewhere in the back of her head and insisting she only saw "Leela", who was basically human and not like those other gross mutants in the sewer. Oh no. Not at all. Cubert, on the other hand, had simply kept up the snobbish, superior attitude he'd always had to her, which was based on his belief that the entire Planet Express crew were incompetent dungbrains spending his inheritance on donuts. He had once described her as "a genetic anomaly" though. Fry had thrown a shoe at him and asked if the mole he'd been scraped from was hairy. It was a memory Leela privately cherished.

Fry was one of the few people who really did seem to just see her as Leela, even after he found out she was from a place where Shit Creek wasn't just an expression. To him, mutants were no more remarkable than aliens. There were just a cool urban legend which turned out to be kinda boring once you got past the tentacles and the extra eyes. They were so unremarkable, in fact, that he routinely forgot they were supposed to be a secret, which led to him making loud, unbelievably stupid comments like "I went to the sewer this morning for lemon cake" and "Of course sewer mutants are real, Leela's-mmpfff!" Luckily most of the people he was talking to thought he was an idiot.

And he really wasn't afraid of mutants. Certainly not in the mean-minded, ignorant way most people were. If he was afraid of Leela, it was because she knew seven types of martial art, not because he thought she was some kind of storybook monster.

Sometimes, of course, a really hideous sewer mutant would loom out of the shadows and make him scream like a girl. But that had never bothered her. After all, the list of things that made Fry scream like a girl was long and varied, and included stuff like "a really surprising pop-tart". It wasn't a good means to measure anything.

The cyclops sniffed. She missed that girly scream.

The other people in the room were talking, she realized dimly. Reacting to her big announcement.

"Have you lost your mind?" Amy cried. "You can't just tell people you're a mutant, Leela! They'll report you! And then they'll take you back to New New York and deport you! What's wrong with you?"

Xandri had dragged her bewildered husband to the other side of the room, meanwhile, and was trying to explain what a sewer mutant was, and why it was a big deal. There were a lot of flailing arm movements involved in her explanation. Though it was hard to hear the whole of their conversation from this side of the room, from time to time Xandri's emotions got the better of her and a word or two broke through at higher volume.

"They eat people, Gomez!"

Leela dug her nails into the cushions of the couch. It always came back to that, didn't it? They eat people. Everyone remembered that little legend about mutants, everyone believed it, and no-one ever bothered to ask why it might be true.

"It was hundreds of years ago," she interrupted. "The mayor barricaded us in the sewers and we were starving. We would have eaten anything, including the bastards who had orders to shoot us on sight. You think people flush food, do you? You think you can grow anything worth eating with no sunlight and no clean water? We were fighting each other over rats!" The flicker of disgust this provoked only made Leela angrier – especially as she was 99.9% sure Munda still cooked with rats. "I'd like to see you find food in the sewer," she snapped. "Most humans can't hack it more than five feet from a Fishy Joe's."

She had settled instinctively into her 'officious activist' tone of voice, the one that made Bender turn off his hearing and yell "Shut up about the stupid penguins or I'll kill 'em all myself! Don't think I won't do it!". Fry usually turned red and tried to sink out of view when she used it. Lars had learned to just ride it out and nod when required. It was a good tone, she thought - like nagging dialed all the way up, with a side serving of righteous indignation. And it was devastatingly effective.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Amy squirming. Her friend looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her up. Good, Leela thought ruthlessly.

"Besides," she added, "it's rude to talk about people behind their backs. If you want to know about sewer mutants, you should ask one."

The obvious embarrassment felt by Gomez and Xandri was extremely satisfying. Leela didn't let them spoil it by apologizing.

"We're leaving," she said firmly. "C'mon, Amy."

She was sipping soy latte at the hotel bar when Amy found her again.

"You took your time," she said coolly.

Truth be told, she was a little annoyed Amy hadn't followed her right out of the apartment. Just once in her life she'd like to pull off a dramatic exit. Was it so much to ask?

"Well, guh!" Amy spluttered. "Someone had to explain you, Leela! You just went nuts! What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't."

"No kidding!" Amy shook her head, incredulous.

She pulled the bowl of peanuts towards her and began scooping them into her mouth. Leela recognized the compulsive eating as a nervous tic, but decided not to say anything. It wasn't like a few savories would spoil Amy's physique anyway.

"I don't think they'll report you," Amy continued. "They really like Fry and they feel bad about what they said to you. They're not bad people."

"No, they're just ignorant."

"Leela!"

"Oh, sorry." Leela stirred her drink disinterestedly, not feeling all that sorry.

Amy looked over her shoulder, then leaned in and hissed, "Why did you tell them you're a . . . you know?"

"I am."

"But you don't tell people! You never tell people! Not that I blame you. I mean, I wouldn't either, but-"

"Maybe I should."

"Uh?" Amy's mouth dropped open. Her hand crept across the bar, grabbed a packet of buggalo jerky and tore it open, before she raised it to her mouth and took a big bite. She chewed slowly, swallowed, and blinked.

"I 'eally 'orried a'out 'oo," she said through her second mouthful. "Iss i'n't 'ike oo."

Leela stared at her.

Worried, she thought. Who else would worry if she told the world she was a mutant? Who else would know it wasn't like her?

The thought was so faint she didn't dare move, in case she disturbed it.

Fry would worry. Fry would know something was wrong.

Leela stared at the bowl of peanuts without seeing them. She felt as if the world was slowing falling away from her, like she'd forgotten to breathe.

Would he worry enough to come back?

He's not even on Earth, a small voice reminded her. It doesn't matter what he'd do if he never hears about it. It's not like you can issue a universe-wide PSA from the sewer, is it?

Is it?

Amy had finished off the jerky.

"You're on the surface already, Leela," she said. "You're okay. And you can't change the law. This isn't like Prop Infinity, you know? You can't just throw a parade and change people's minds. They think you're monsters! They'll send people after you with guns and stuff."

Ding! Ding! Ding!

A slots machine chimed in victory behind her as the idea clicked into place in Leela's head.

She nodded, keeping her face carefully neutral. It was vital no-one knew what she was planning now, or they'd try and put her off.

"Ye-esss," she said slowly. "You're right, Amy. This is not an issue of public opinion."

Unless I make it one, she thought. And if they won't listen . . . I'm a good shot, and I know the sewers. I'd say that gives me the advantage. She nearly smiled. Her years as an animal-rights activist had been largely unsuccessful, but they had taught her punches achieve more than placards. A decade spent with Fry and Bender, meanwhile, had been one long lesson in how to marshal chaos. It would be hard, but she could do this. And if she did, she'd kill two birds with one stone – getting Fry's attention and putting an end to the oppression of her people.

She felt a twinge of guilt about lying to Amy, though. Her friend looked so relieved. Right now she was squeezing Leela's hand.

"Exactly! And now you have the baby to think about. All this stress can't be good for you. Hey, I know! I still have my diamond access card, and there's a pretty good spa at the hotel. We could go for facials! Soothing, relaxing facials." She beamed. "Wouldn't that be great?"

Oh, lord, Leela thought.

"It's okay," she said out loud. "I think I'll just go home and catch up on some sleep."

"Oh, okay." Amy deflated for a moment, then brightened up again. "That's a good idea," she chirped. "You blitz that eye-bag!"

Leela nodded vaguely.

She would have been offended, but she was trying to remember where she'd left her video camera. She had a feeling she was going to need it.