I've been trying to write Futurama fanfic's for two-and-a-half years or so, now. So far, I've failed to complete one.
I have despaired that I will ever
finish one in particular, although there is
a silver lining to this individual cloud. It occurred to me that, with a little re-tooling, part of the aforementioned 'fic could be a stand-alone story. So, here it is.DISCLAIMER
1) I'm a shipper - and flamin' well proud of it!
2) I make no claims that said story is any good.
I would appreciate knowing if you thing the following story is good, bad, or otherwise. Especially the 'bad', as that's about the only way my
attempts at storytelling might improve.
More importantly, I desire to know why
you think one part or another is good, bad or otherwise.
Oh, and @ Venus: I'll be E-mailing you...
And now, without further ado I submit for your reading
Aw, never mind!
I hope you enjoy it.
I'll shut up now...
An Untitled Futurama FanFic
Interior, day. Leela’s bedroom.
Light leaks under the door into Leela’s darkened bedroom. She’s dead-asleep. The room is silent, save for the light buzzing sound of breathing. She wakes with a snort, and pulls her face out of her pillow.
Leela: (putting her hand to her forehead) “Oh...”
She doesn’t notice the light buzzing noise, nor that her hair is in its trademark ponytail.
She rolls over. We see one of her evening gowns draped over the foot of the bed, next to her purse. The purse tumbles off the foot of the bed with a jingle of keys, and clatter of its contents. She peels the blankets back from her body, and quizzically looks at her attire: A lavender, sleeveless, thigh-length nightgown. We see her strapless bra through the shoulder openings.
Leela: (sotto) “What happened last night?”
She looks down inside her nightgown.
Leela: (mutters) “Why am I still wearing this? (rolls her tongue around the inside of her mouth) “... Why does my mouth taste like something Dr. Zoidberg would eat?”
She reaches for her armband.
Leela: “What time is it?”
She pushes a button on the device. It reads “11:09 AM.”
Leela: (lethargically) “Half the day gone.” (puts the device back)
She puts her legs over the side of the bed, and starts to get up. She doesn’t make it. Fry is asleep on the floor right next to her bed on the cushions from her chair. She steps squarely on his midsection, the buzzing stops abruptly.
She looses her balance, and tumbles back onto her bed. Fry sits bolt-upright, but doesn’t make it: He hits his head on the underside of Leela’s nightstand.*WHACK!*
In the intervening moments Leela has turned on a flashlight in her armband, pointed it at Fry’s face, and with murder in her eye, blearily taken a martial arts position from the waist up.
Leela: (irritably) “What the hell
are you doing here?”
Fry is dressed in a suit, his tie loosened, collar unbuttoned.
Fry: (wincing, he holds up his hand up, hiding his eyes from the light) “I’ll tell you if you’ll get that searchlight outta' my face.” (he stands up rubbing his forehead)
Leela: (turns off the light) “The only reason I’m not kicking your ass is... I need somebody to tell me what happened last night.” (she sways back and forth on her bed) “... That, and the room won’t hold still.” (braces herself with her arm) “Oh my head...”
Fry stops rubbing his forehead, and, stretches from the discomfort of the makeshift bed. His face is obscured in shadow. As he stretches, we notice that his shirt hangs open; the top three buttons are missing.
Fry: (his words come reluctantly) “You, uh... had a little too much to drink last night?” (his tone implies there’s more)
Leela: (Sotto) “That isn’t like me at all.” (depressed) “Uhh... That explains why my hair’s still up, and I’m wearing this...” (looks down at her chest)
Fry gives her an apologetic shrug. Leela's headache reasserts itself.
Leela: “Ohh...” (sotto) “I didn't go out with Fry.” (realization) “Oh... How ‘too-much’ to drink?”
Fry: “Uh... that I actually saw?” (Leela just looks at him intensely) “... Supernova Stinger?”
Leela: “Gawd... Please
tell me I didn’t make an ass of myself...”
Fry: (his tone and inflection again say there’s a lot more to it) “No-o.”
Leela: (has a moment of clarity, then icily) “... And, just how
do you happen to know this?”
Fry: “Well, uh, how much do you remember?”
Leela: “Just tell me.” (putting her palm to her forehead) “Oh, my head”
Fry reaches into his pocket, produces a small foil pouch that glows with a dull green light, & bends down to help her sit.
Fry: “I wound up in the same restaurant as you and... what's-his-name
. Here, you’ll feel a lot better after you take these,” (stuffs the foil into her palm)
Leela: (she looks at the foil pouch) “What is it?”
Fry: (matter-of-factly) “Morning-after pills.”
Leela: (getting the ‘adult’ connotation) “WHAT?" (she flinches from the pounding in her head) “*Gasp*”
Fry: (missing the double-meaning) “’Hangover pills from the vending machine in the bar?”
Leela: (lethargically) “Oh...” (noticing the green glow) “I feel just lousy enough to take it...”
Fry: (shrug) “It’s supposed to be pretty good; it’s full of ‘ingredients’.”
Leela looks strangely at him for a beat.
Leela: “I need a shower.” (Fry doesn’t move) “Beat it, Fry.”
Fry: (startled) “Oh. Right... Sorry.” (starts for the door)
Leela: (order) “Put the cushions back on my chair.” (conciliatory) “...And, make us some coffee?”
Fry: (stops for the cushions) “Sure.”
Leela: (heading into the bathroom) “Lights.” (winces) “Ow, lights low.”
With the lights up, we momentarily see into her closet: Her green jacket, several pairs of identical dark boots, and multiple hangars holding identical white tank-tops, and dark spandex pants.
As the bathroom door closes he realizes he’s not going to see any more of her body.
Fry: (disappointed grunt) “Mmph!” (turns to the door to go into the living room) “Lights?” (flinches) “Ow... low?” (the light dims) “Ahh.”
Interior, day. Leela’s living room a short time later.
Fry slouches diagonally in the only other stick of furniture in Leela’s apartment: Her chair. He needs a shave, his clothing is rumpled, and his hair is askew. His legs are stretched out with his stocking-feet resting up on the wall next to the flat-panel TV. Next to him on the floor are a full carafe of coffee and a mug. The TV babbles unintelligibly.
Fry has a thousand-yard stare on his face. He sips a mug of coffee, but doesn’t like it; there is no sugar in Leela’s apartment. As our point of view trucks around him, we finally see his face: His lips are stained with lipstick from kissing someone, and he has a black eye!
A cruel mass of black-and-blue bruising, swelling his eye closed to a narrow slit.
A wan smile creeps onto his face. He sets his mug on the carpet to his left, and leans back. His head tilts backward off the right edge of the chair, his mouth agape, face to the ceiling.
A few minutes later, Leela’s bedroom door opens. She’s dressed in her usual white tank top and dark spandex pants. Obviously feeling much better, but not 100 percent. Her only concessions to the situation are her fluffy blue slippers and a damp ponytail. She has put on her makeup, but her armband is absent.
She notices the harsh angle of Fry's neck.
Leela: (sotto) “How does he do
Fry: (rousing to the sound of the closing door) “Mph... coffee, Leela? ‘Made it the way you like; strong and black.”
Leela: (coldly) “Uh-huh... and” (colder still) “get your feet off my wall.”
Fry: (Whoops!) “Sorry,” (He leans over to get the coffee pot and other mug)
Leela: (instantly regretting her tone) “I’m... not firing on all neurons yet.”
Fry: (he relaxes and gives Leela the mug) “Eh, forget it.” (she holds the cup as he pours) (concerned) “How’re you feeling?”
Leela: (accepting the coffee) “Almost human, er... you know what I mean.”
They both wait a beat, then simultaneously:
Leela: “Fry, I - “
Fry: “Leela, I - “
An awkward moment.
Fry: “Ladies’ first.”
Leela: (leans back against the wall) “This isn’t easy for me...”
Fry starts to say something, but she continues.
Leela: “No, I’ve got to know... What happened
last night? ... What happened to your shirt?” (finally noticing his shiner) “... How’d you get that black eye?”
She takes a sip of coffee, and is surprised that it’s actually good. When she looks back up from her mug, she sees her
lipstick on his lips.
Leela: (non-threateningly) “...And why is my
lipstick on your mouth?”
Fry: (reluctantly) “Well, uh, how much do you remember?”
Leela: “I was out with Julius at... some Nuveau-Paragonian restaurant, and having a great time. I remember dinner, and Julius was attentive, and witty, and interested-”
Fry: (sotto) “Oh, he was interested
Leela: “- and he made me feel good-”
Fry: (looks aside with an 'oh-brother
' expression, sotto) “Oh, yeah.”
Leela: “Though, my cocktail seems to have hit me like a meteor. After that, I remember... pictures, like... flashbacks in one of those pretentious alien movies.”
(She thinks for a moment, taking a sip from her coffee.)
Leela: “I remember leaving the restaurant, and a cab-ride - Hey,” (sets down her coffee cup, suspicion edging her voice) “Julius took me to the restaurant in a limousine, why’d I leave in a cab?”
Fry: (putting down his coffee cup) “Be-c-a-u-s-e... I didn’t have
Leela: (puzzled) “I left with you
Fry: “Uh huh.”
Leela: (standing, icily) “Why would I leave with you
, and not Julius?”
Fry: “Leela, you were in no shape to-”
She lunges at him, grabbing for his collar.
Leela: “You ruined my date! YOU BASTARD!
” (grimaces, puts a hand to her forehead) “Ohh...”
Fry jerks, awkwardly dodging her lunge, and succeeds in falling off the side of the chair.
Fry: “Ow-” (his voice edged with cold fear) “Leela
, It wasn’t like
Leela holds her head for a moment, allowing Fry time to get up. His latent instinct for self-preservation kicks in, and he makes sure to keep the chair between him and Leela.
Leela, meanwhile, leans on the chair to steady herself.
Leela: (skewers Fry with a glare) “I’d pound
your ass... but it would make my head explode.”
Fry looks at her for a moment, and gets a strange expression. Then with uncharacteristic anger,
Fry: “... Okay, that’s it. I give up. I’ve had it
. I’m done
. Go ahead... give
me a pounding.” (defeated) “What difference
would it make?”
Leela: (off-guard) “Huh?”
Fry: “Go ahead! Beat
the snot outta’ me! ... I only saw you have one
drink last night... Since I’ve known you, I’ve never
seen you have more than two drinks at a time. I know you're careful...maybe it’s that... alien metabolism, or whatever... I saw Julius bribe a waiter and put something in your drink.”
Fry: (his words come out in a rush) “You were intoks-, ineeb- ... you were drunk
, and I just couldn’t stand
somebody taking advantage of you like that.”
Leela: (shocked) “Julius wouldn’t have done anything like that!”
Fry: (patting himself down) “Something just didn’t feel right
about that guy.” (finds what he’s looking for, and produces the empty vial from one of his pockets) “The waiter hid this in the flowers behind you.”
Leela: (takes the vial, not quite believing) “You’re making all this up.”
Fry: “I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE HELL
THAT CRAP WAS!”
His raised voice makes Leela cringe. He lowers his tone.
Fry: “All I know is that it wound up in your drink.”
Fry angrily turns his back to her.
Leela: (taking a sniff from the open vial, sotto) “Alca-nol?”
Fry: (speaking away from her, with urgency, not-quite-anger in his voice) “Good gawd, Leela. You outta' know
how I feel about you: X-mas two years ago, or when I proved Alkazar was a lyin’ sonuvabitch, or when I try to help at work, or...” (quietly) “Aw, look, I 'get it' that you don’t feel the same way about me. Fine
.” (matter-of-factly) “But I’ve never lied
Leela: (astounded, but impressed) “Who’re you, and what have you done with Fry?”
This catches Fry off-guard. He looks over his shoulder at Leela.
Fry: “Can I take that as a ‘no’?”
Leela: (pauses a moment, then fuming) “That manipulative bastard!
” (puts her hand to her head) “Ow.”
Fry: (gently) “Finish your coffee, you’ll feel better.”
Fry sits down on the carpet, his back to the wall, left of the chair. Seeing this, Leela takes the chair, perching on the edge, like a predator ready to pounce.
Leela: (curiously) “How do you know so much about what’ll make me feel better?”
Fry: “I did go to college, y’know.”
Leela: (reaching for her coffee) “But you dropped out after-”
Fry: “So, you believe me about last night?”
Leela: “I think that you didn’t directly
ruin my date... How’d you get that?” (indicating his black eye)
Fry: “You won’t like it.”
Leela: “Too late. I already
don’t like it. Did Julius hit you?”
Fry: (reluctantly) “Er, no...Um, uh... you did...”
Leela: (suprised) “I
did?” (distant, but matter-of-factly) “...You ‘came on’ to me, didn’t you?”
Fry: “I thought about it for, maybe, two whole seconds, but, if I’d tried anything, I’d be just as bad as, him, or Alkazar, or Zapp.” (sotto) “I’m still tryin’ to figure that
Leela: (shudders) “*Eurgh.*”
Fry: “But, you’re getting ahead of me.”
As Fry speaks, Leela’s face fills our view, her eye narrows as she tries to remember.
Fry: (os) “Let me tell you what happened; when you were away from the table,”
Interior, night. The restaurant, the previous evening.
The place is filled with orange-ish mood lighting. Leela, having just sipped her drink, and set it down, leaves the table. Julius, an evidently wealthy man, dressed almost the same as Fry, produces a small glass vial. He looks either way, and pours the contents into Leela’s drink. He calls the waiter over. The waiter bends down to hear him. Julius stuffs the empty vial, and several bills into the man’s hands.
The waiter's eyes pop momentarily, looking at the bills, He smiles, turns to leave, shrugs, and nonchalantly puts the empty bottle in a nearby planter.
Fry: (os) “I saw him bribe the waiter, and put that ... stuff
in your drink, and the thought of him... with you... like that... I had to get you out of there!”
Cut to a hallway in the restaurant.
Fry rushes up to one of the phones, stuffs some coins into it and starts frantically dialing.
Fry: (os) “So I phoned for a taxi, then played a trick on him, like I did to Yancy once. I called the restaurant and had’em page what’s-his-face, to get him away from the table.”
Cut to interior, night. The restaurant, Leela’s table.
Leela is back at the table with Julius. As she sips the last bit from her glass, the waiter returns. He speaks to Julius, who excuses himself, and follows the waiter away from the table. Leela wobbles unsteadily. A moment later, Fry appears.
Fry: (os) “When he left the table, I went over to you and tried to explain what was goin' on, but I don’t think you understood.
Cut to interior, night. The restaurant, Leela’s point of view.
She see’s someone approaching her. Her vision is distorted enough that she can almost
tell who it is.
Cut to interior, night. The restaurant, Leela’s table.
Fry speaks to Leela, urgently takes her hand. Woozily, she starts to get up from the table. Fry spots the vial in the planter, looks at it for a moment, and puts it in his pocket. He starts to lead Leela away.
Fry: (os) “I saw that little bottle in the planter, and something told me to take it.”
Leela falters. Fry puts his arm around her waist to support her, and drapes her arm over his shoulder.
Cut to exterior, night. The street outside the restaurant.
Teasingly, Leela resists getting in a taxi, making Fry coax her in. She giggles; he sweats. The cabbie looks on, uncertain of what to make of the situation.
Fry: (os) “It took some doing, but I managed to get you into the cab.”
Cut to interior, night. Inside the cab.
With a drunken grin on her face, Leela watches the scenery pass by. Fry divides his attention between her and directing the cabbie. The cab abruptly makes a u-turn.
Fry: (os) “We were halfway to Bender’s and my apartment before I realized Bender was the last
one you’d want to deal with, so, I told the driver to go to your
apartment instead. It took a while to find it, because I didn’t remember exactly where
it was, and... well... you weren’t a lotta’ help...”
Interior night. The hallway outside Leela’s apartment.
Fry and Leela take the last step to her apartment door. As before, Fry has his arm around her waist, and holds her arm over his shoulder.
Fry: (os) “We finally found your building, and I took you to your apartment.”
Fry holds Leela with one arm, and pushes buttons on the door's keypad with his free hand. The keypad makes sounds as he does.
*Beep - Beep - Beep**BUZZ!*
Fry: (os) “I asked you for the key, but your door has a combination, and it took a while to get it out of you.”
Interior, day. Leela's living room.
Fry: “That made you all... mad... angry-like, for some reason.”
Leela: “That’s when I gave you that shiner?”
Fry: “You... no. I brought you inside, and started to... uh... put you to bed... That’s when...”
Leela squints, trying to remember.
Leela: (realizes Fry has trailed off for several seconds) “When what?” (angrily) “You came on to me, didn’t you?”
Fry stands, leaning against the wall to he left of the TV, all but writhing
Fry: “No! ...Like I said, I though about it... but I ... I just couldn’t do that to you... I pulled your shoes off, and you seemed to like it. I took your dress off, and you seemed to like that. I found a pair of lavender pajamas, but it was easier for me to put the nightgown on you, and you liked that... a lot... I laid you down under the covers, and you really liked that... then...*sigh*” (timidly) “Then... you... came-on... to me...”
Simultaneous truck-out, zoom in, making Leela look like the largest thing in the room. She's stunned.
Leela: (matter-of-factly) “I... came-on... to you?”
Leela waits for her own words to sink in.
Fry: “You grabbed my collar, pulled me towards you, undid my tie, and kissed me. At first I thought you were playing some mind game on me, then you, started to rip my shirt off. I mean literally ri
p it off.” (Leela sits there, open-mouthed)
Fry has an extremely guilty look. He can’t face her.
Leela: (disbelief) “I
came on to you?”
Fry: (his face awash with conflicting emotions) “Wonderful as that might’ve been, I... just couldn’t...”
Leela: (can’t quite wrap her mind around it) “I came-on to you
Fry: “I was trying to tell you that I wasn’t Julius, that you were drunk, that you’d hate yourself in the morning, that...*sigh* but it only made you mad. Really mad.” (shudders) “Uh-h-h-h-h... I tried to back away, but you still had hold of my collar. Then you belted me...”
Leela: (begins to sink in) “I came on
Fry: “Then you just... passed out, like... I didn’t want to just leave you all alone there, but I knew you’d freak if you woke up and found me in your bed. And if you needed help, I thought I might not hear you if I slept in the chair, so I put the cushions on the floor next to your bed, and slept there.”
Leela: “This is ... hard to believe.”
Fry: “You gotta’
of it. You have that little bottle in your hand; besides, if anything had happened last night, I'da been in bed with you this morning, and *gulp* you'da broken every bone in my body... twice
,” (sotto) “But what a way to go.”
Leela: “Fry I-”
Fry: “Y’know, you have a helluva left jab?” (puts his hand to his eye)
Is that actual guilt
we see on Leela's face, or merely sympathy?
Leela: (getting up, contritely) “The least I can do is get you some ice and some lotion to put on that.”
She puts a hand to his shoulder, maneuvering him to the chair.
Leela: “Sit?” (it's a request, not an order)
Leela heads to the kitchen
A few moments later Leela returns with a bag of frozen peas & hands it to Fry.
Leela: “Here, put this on your eye.”
Fry looks at her quizzically.
Leela: “The bag, Fry. Put the whole bag on your eye.”
She turns to leave. Fry looks at her questioningly for a moment, then at the bag. He shrugs, and starts to pull on the plastic to tear it open.
Leela stops herself, and speaks over her shoulder.
Leela: (pained) “Don't open it
, just use the whole thing like an ice-pack.”
He flops his head on the chair back looks up at the ceiling, and puts the bag on his eye.
Fry: “Ee-hah, oh that’s cold... ahh...”
We hear Leela looking for something in the bathroom. She comes back a minute later with a squeeze tube. She sees Fry completely relaxed in her chair.
Leela: (conciliatory) “Here Fry, let me put this on your eye. It should help the bruising.”
The only part of Fry that moves is his arm, to remove the bag of frozen peas from his eye. Leela perches on the right side of the chair. She squeezes some of the goop onto her fingers, and gingerly rubs it around Fry’s eye for several long moments. As she is finishing she notices a nasty nick amid the bruising: Then she holds up her hand and looks at the ring on her little finger. The width of her hand, the position of the ring, and the angle of the nick, are all a perfect match for her ring.
Leela: (looks ruefully at Fry’s shiner) “*Sigh*” (putting her hands in her lap, eye down, regretfully) “I’m sorry Fry.”
Fry: (he jerks) “Say what?
Leela: (looks at Fry) “I said... I’m sorry.”
Fry: “I’ve never
heard you say that before.”
Leela: “Here you went so far out of your way to look after me, and all I gave you for your trouble was a bad attitude, and that black eye.”
Fry: “Forget it. That’s what friends-”
” (winces) “No, I won’t forget it. You gave up your entire evening for me. You dropped everything, brought me home, put me to bed, and literally stayed by my side all night... All the guys I’ve dated would’ve ditched me, or taken advantage... You didn’t. That means a lot to me. And you probably didn’t even expect so much as a thank-you.” (she puts her hand to his cheek-)
Fry: “Leela, I- *mpf*”
-With her thumb over his lips.
Leela: (affectionately) “Fry, shut up... Every other man I know want’s something from me. The Professor and Hermes want me to make a profit for them. Alkazar wanted a maid. Adalai wanted a Stepford-wife. Julius wanted to score me like I was a trophy, & Zapp...” (shudders) “Uh-h-h... You’re the only guy I know who doesn’t want
something from me. You just want to know me... for me.”
Fry: (turns his face out of her hand) “Leela, you could have anybody you wanted, and if they didn’t want you back
, they didn’t deserve you in the first place. Zapp’s a-”
Fry: “Okay, Zapp’s a bad example, but Adlai’s a doctor, and Julius could loose the D.O.O.P budget under his sofa cushions!” (downcast) “I’m just a delivery-boy from the stupid ages. I ‘got it’ a while back that you’re just not interested... that I can’t compete.”
Leela: “Also, ignorant, self-centered, lacking common sense, inconsiderate, tardy, impulsive, lecherous-”
Fry: “Isn’t this is the part where you’re supposed to make me feel better?
Leela: “-But no one else
would’ve done what you did for me.” (stroking his cheek) “Thank you, Fry.” (leans down and kisses him on the other cheek)
Fry’s reaction is like that to an electric shock, but far more pleasant.
Fry: (Leela’s lipstick on his cheek) “Hamina... hamina.”
Leela: (smiles) “Better?”
Fry: (just nods, open mouthed) “Ng...”
Leela: “And, Fry?”
Leela: “Can we keep all this strictly between us
Fry: “So who’d believe
me? ... I
wouldn’t believe me.”
Leela gets her coffee and stands up.
Leela: (puzzled) “There’s one thing I don't understand...What happened to your date?”*TOING!*
Fry jerks right up out of the chair. His panicked face fills our view.
Fry: (eyes wide) “Sweet zombie Jesus! JENNIFER!
” (He bolts out the front door)
Leela watches him rush out with an empathetic look.
Leela: “*Sigh*” (to the empty doorway) “Better luck next time?”