Work Text:
Twooney Doctor stared at the canvas in front of her, then stared at the painting she was attempting to imitate. She sighed and grabbed the primer.
*Knock knock* "May I come in?"
"You might as well."
Mooney Doctor opened the door and entered the spare room. "I made the preliminary tests on your new Breath Star, figured you'd want to be there for the full run."
Twooney nodded. "Thank you, I will be there. I have a question for you, Doctor."
"Yes."
"As your clone, why am I not as good as you."
"You're easily as good a pitcher as me? Or did you mean in science, because science is not genetic or inherited but is a matter of strong discipline and commitment to..."
Twooney waited patiently for the doctor to finish her spiel. "Oh no, I know why you're better at science, but with all my application why am I not personally better at this?" She waved to the myriad canvases cluttering the room. "Shouldn't I have your same smarts and ability to apply myself to my craft?"
Mooney scratched her head. "Well, ah, technically that's not strictly genetic either..."
"Yes, but you're hiding something or you would have rattled off our stat differences and any abnormalities in the cloning process."
"Twooney, what-"
"Mooney, we're not even properly identical. You've been acting strange the whole time I've been back on Earth, just tell me, I'm still a scientist, I can handle data. What happened that made me different from you?"
Silence... Mooney rubbed her hands together nervously, then sighed and pulled up a document on her phone and held it out for Twooney to read.
"I uh... We wanted to try something, I wasn't sure it would work, still haven't properly tested for side effects... But I mixed moondust into your genome."
"You... What."
Mooney looked down "Genetically speaking, you're kind of our daughter, the moon and I."
"You- You're my mom? The moon was my mom?!?"
Mooney nodded, a tear slid down her cheek. "She wanted to tell you after things settled down in blaseball, but..."
"Oh no."
Twooney walked over and gave Mooney a hug. "I'm so sorry."
Mooney took a shuddering breath. "I'm just glad one of us was with her when she..."
Tears filled Twooney's eyes. "She loved you. I love you too... Mom."
They hugged for a little while, then Mooney stepped back and picked her clipboard back up.
"R-Right." Her voice cracked a little and she cleared her throat. "Right then. I have openings at 7 tonight, 10 tomorrow morning, and 3 on Tuesday for tests. Please apply for the slot on the calendar, and we can(theoretically) get your ship up and running before the end of siesta."
Twooney nodded. "Th-thank you Doctor."
Mooney stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Twooney turned back to her painting. She looked at the blank canvas, looked at the pile of rejects on the floor, waiting to be painted over, then walked over to look at the painting on the wall.
It was an older work, late 1800s most likely. She'd stolen it from some multi-millionare who would probably only notice it was gone when tax laundering season came around. The painting depicted a lone dancer on the seashore under moonlight.
Twooney gently lifted the painting off the wall, turned it around and set on the floor. Then she walked back to her own canvas and picked up the brush.