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Sportacus was just catching a fly ball from Stingy when his crystal went off.
“Someone’s in trouble!” He tossed Ziggy the ball and jumped onto the nearest wall, scanning the town. The mayor wasn’t ‘helping’ Bessie with anything, the kids were safe, even the kitten was innocently walking around. Who else could have set off—
The answer struck him and fear gripped his heart, “Robbie…” He whispered.
He ran, flipped, and cartwheeled his way to Robbie’s lair. Once inside, Sportacus found the trouble right away.
In the middle of the bunker was Robbie. He seemed to be holding up a large metal crate that was tipped towards him at a dangerous angle. When Sportacus landed in the lair, Robbie locked eyes with him.
“Help,” he squeaked, almost comically.
Without hesitation, Sportacus sprang forward. He planted his feet beside Robbie and joined in the pushing. Together, they got the box to tumble onto another side, away from them both. With a loud bang, Robbie was safe.
The crate had been much heavier than Sportacus thought. How had Robbie been holding it up on his own?! He turned, out of breath, to ask Robbie that very question.
His eyes caught the answer.
Robbie wasn’t wearing his usual outfit. Instead, he was in purple sweat pants and a black tank top. The tank top showed off what his long sleeved stripped number usually hid.
Robbie caught Sportacus staring. Between gasps for breath, he asked, “Wha- what are you st-staring at?”
Sportacus opened and closed his mouth several times, not trusting himself not to blurt out “When did your arms get so muscular?”
Instead he asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to hear that stupid crystal’s beeping.”
Sportacus gave a weak chuckle. He couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Robbie’s arms.
“Seriously, what are you staring at?”
“Can I feel your biceps?”
“… can you what?”
Wait, nope, he’d said that out loud. “NevermindByeRobbieStaySafe!”
“Get back here!”