Archive of Our Own

Becoming friends with Wander was the best thing Sylvia had ever done. Being his partner had given her life purpose and clarity, things she hadn’t even known she wanted until he had wormed his way into her heart. His ability to tame some of the worst evil-doers in the galaxy had always impressed her. He had a way with words and the banjo that made her laugh on the grimmest of days.

And the way he persevered in the face of despair had bolstered her own courage more often than she cared to count. He brought out the best in her and, in turn, Sylvia watched over him, making sure that his manic tendencies didn’t ruin his own best laid plans.

Today, however, all she could think about was how much she hated his taste in men.

“Look,” Sylvia said, her tone taking on that stern, yet motherly firmness Wander so desperately needed at times. “I know that Lord Hater’s trying his best to—” good was too strong a word for it, “not be evil, but I think you’re rewarding him a little too soon for his efforts.”

Wander shook his head, as he scrubbed himself off with a towel. As professional nomads, Wander and Sylvia were used to roughing it. Today Wander had discovered a nearby pond and had made use of the crystal clear water to freshen up. As he finished his bath he laughed at his friend. “Sylvia, Sylvia, Sylvia,” he said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh, he wanted to play dumb, did he? Well, Sylvia’s wasn’t about to let him get away with that. “Wander,” she said, “you’re going on a date with him.”

“What? No.” The denial was strong; Wander managed to stretch out each word for a good several seconds. He flicked the towel into his hat, confident that the magic inside would dry it out instantly. With a practiced twirl of his hand, he grasped his favorite (and only) hat to perch it upon his head.

“It’s just a little get-together between friends,” Wander insisted, adjusting his chapeau. “Because we are friends now.” He couldn’t help his grin as he said it. He had waited so long for Hater to turn his frown upside down, that Wander was pleased as punch at this turn of events.

Sylvia sighed, side-eyeing a camera that wasn’t there. “Uh huh. And what are you doing at this little ‘get-together?’” Sylvia’s fingers made air-quotes so Wander couldn’t possibly mistake her sarcasm for anything else.

“Getting a bite to eat and then seeing a movie,” Wander said. He glanced at his reflection in the pond. Yup, he was clean and dandy. He was more than presentable for a friendly outing.

“Right,” Sylvia said. “And where are you getting this dinner and a movie?”

“Well, wouldn’t you know it?” Wander said. “Hater has this whole food court and he says that he’s gotten some new recipes to try out and his movie theater—”

Sylvia was well-aware of both locations, having broken into them numerous times with Wander. “Does he still have that dumb cartoon the Watchdogs made?” she muttered.

“Oh no,” Wander said. “Hater promised that he found some actual movies to screen.” He squealed, his clenched fists shaking in excitement. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Sylvia smacked her palm against her face. Either Wander was actually trying (and failing) to convince her that nothing was going on or he really didn’t understand the situation. In any case, Sylvia was not happy about it. She was going to have to burst his bubble.

“Wander,” she said, knowing exactly how much anxiety her next few words would cause, “it’s definitely a date.”

Wander waved her off, his whole body tilting to the side. “Pshaw, don’t be silly.”

She was going to have to bring out the big guns. “Even the Watchdogs think it’s a date,” she said.

“The Watchdogs?” Wander asked. That made him pause. “All the Watchdogs?”

“Yes.” Good, it seemed that she was getting through to him.

“Come on.” Wander’s laugh was curdled by growing nerves. “Not Barry or Larry or Gary. They wouldn’t—”

Sylvia smirked. It was kind of sweet how her buddy remembered all of those identical little minion’s names. “Andy’s doing an entire show about it.”

Wander gasped, biting his nails. “Not Andy!” He grasped at one last straw. “But Mr. Peepers—”

Oh, Sylvia had that contingency covered. “Is holding a briefing as we speak to make sure your date goes off without a hitch.”

Meanwhile, on a spaceship speeding rapidly toward Sylvia and Wander’s location, Commander Peepers addressed his underlings.

“Giuseppe!” Commander Peepers snapped, pointing at the tailor. “Is Lord Hater’s cloak pressed and ready for this evening?”

“Of course.” Giuseppe was insulted that the Commander had even asked. “He will look—” Giuseppe kissed his own fingers, “so handsome, the little Wanderer won’t be able to resist him.”

Commander Peepers, highest ranking leader of the Watchdogs, shuddered at the thought. In his heart of hearts, he would have preferred planning the conquest of any nearby planets but it seemed that was no longer his prime duty. No, Lord Hater had declared that he was going to try this “helping” thing and that meant no more conquering.

Instead, Commander Peepers was planning rescue missions and charity drives and now, to his horror, a date for his boss. At least the other Watchdogs were enthusiastic about the mission. Most of them were quite fond of Wander, despite the conflict that presented with their professed loyalty to Lord Hater.

Now that Lord Hater wanted to court Wander—

Commander Peepers rubbed the sides of his giant eye. Curse that happy go-lucky little nomad for putting him in this position. Still, his pride wouldn’t allow him to sabotage the event. No, if anything was going to go wrong, it would have to be Lord Hater’s fault. As much as he loved and admired his boss, Lord Hater had his flaws. A lot of flaws if Peepers was going to be honest.

The kind of flaws that would drive away any potential mate—

“Peepers!” Speak of the devil.

Lord Hater, once one of the most feared villains in the galaxy, poked his head into the conference room with a worried scowl. “Where’s the toothpaste?”

It was where it always was. “In your medicine cabinet, Sir,” Commander Peepers said.

“And that’s—”

Oh my Grop. “In your bathroom, Sir.”

“Right.” Lord Hater ducked back out of the conference room. Before Peepers could start speaking again, Lord Hater peeked back in. “And dinner’s ready and the movie is in the projector and—”

“Lord Hater,” Commander Peepers interrupted. “Your trusty Watchdogs are taking care of everything.”

From the frown on the former evil overlord’s face, he did not find that reassuring. “Fine. As long as the Smooching Rooms are ready.” The tone of voice indicated that everything was not fine. Still, Lord Hater skulked away, leaving the Commander to his own devices.

Lord Hater was so going to screw this up.

Commander Peepers had to stop thinking about it. His job was to make sure that all other aspects of this date went exactly as planned. The Commander pounded his fist against the table. “Is that triple pickle cream pie in the refrigerator?”

One of Watchdogs, Steve, saluted his Commander. “Sir, yes Sir.”

“During the last half hour of the movie, you will take that pie out of the refrigerator to bring it to room temperature. Do I make myself clear?” Commander Peepers screeched.

More frantic saluting. “Sir, yes Sir!”

Commander Peepers leaned back; his arms crossed behind him. His single great eye narrowed. “Do you know what will happen if you fail?”

Steve’s knees knocked together with an audible clank and, before he could answer, he fainted.

Good, even with the new change in direction, Commander Peepers could instill fear in his subordinates. He was so proud of them.

Sylvia was so proud of herself for not shifting her expression in the slightest while Wander had a slight nervous breakdown.

“Now, now,” Wander said, holding out his hands as his breathing grew rapidly out of control. “There is nothing for me to worry about. It’s just Lord Hater. No need to PANIC.” The last word came out in a high-pitched squeal.

Then, just as suddenly, Wander got a hold of himself, a new thought crossing his mind. “It doesn’t matter what the Watchdogs think,” he said, deceptively calm. “If Lord Hater doesn’t think it’s a date, then it’s not a date.”

Which is when Sylvia took out the flyer that had started this whole thread of conversation in the first place. “I hate to break it to you, buddy, but Hater also thinks it’s a date.” She handed Wander the single sheet of paper, covered in crayon scribbles.

She watched as Wander perused the flyer once, twice, then three times, his eyes getting wider and wider. The flyer itself was childish, not even remotely professional in the least but it was a certain series of words that had made Sylvia roll her eyes in particular.

The strangled noise Wander let out was so distressing that the birds flew out of the nearby trees not to return until later that night.

Now that Sylvia had Wander’s attention, was the time to put it out there. “You know,” Sylvia said, “you can always cancel.” She put a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Hater’s still settling into a new lifestyle and he did try to kill us not that long ago.” Frequently and often in fact.

Wander disagreed. “That was just a misunderstanding.”

“Hey,” Sylvia said. “You don’t have to push yourself into something you don’t want to do to make someone else happy.” Wander had a tendency to endanger himself for the sake of others, much to Sylvia’s chagrin. “You’re allowed to be comfortable too, bud.” She tugged on Wander’s shoulder, bringing him into a hug. The gesture always made him feel better and it did wonders for Sylvia as well.

She could feel vibrations against her chest and heard the distinct sound of muttering. Wander was trying to say something. “What was that?” Sylvia asked.

Wander shifted his face to the side, just enough to expose his mouth. “I don’t want to cancel.”

Sylvia sighed; she was afraid of that. “I kind of figured.” She settled her head on top of Wander’s. “Just don’t get your hopes up too much.”

She felt Wander pat her back, returning her kindness. “I’ll keep just hopeful enough,” he teased.

That was more like it. “Besides,” Sylvia said, “I’ll be hanging out on the bridge with Peepers. If Lord Hater gets too...Hatery, then I’ll bust you off the ship and we’ll go do something else.”

“Okay,” Wander said. He pulled back; all his doubts vanished. “But I don’t think I’m going to need that ride.” His grin was as wide as his face. “I’m going to have a great time.”

Somehow, despite her own worries, Sylvia believed him. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to have her fists Duchess and Haymaker at the ready, just in case.