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"Frank! We're stepping out tonight," Clayton announced one day before the experiment began.
"Yokay," Frank said, from the couch, not looking up from his magazine.
Clayton deflated a little. “Frank, I’m asking you out on a date.”
“Sure, Clay.”
“Frank, would you put that away! Trying to have a conversation, jeez.”
Frank rolled his eyes, but put down his magazine, folding it over to mark his place. “Yes, Clay?”
“Tonight. After the experiment. I’m ordering in, and we’re going to watch a good movie for a change.” Frank stared at him blankly. “As a date, Frank.”
“OH! OK,” Frank said. “As long as we’re not ordering from Torgo’s again…”
“Frank, that was your mistake, and I’m not going to repeat—”
The bell for the experiment chimed.
“Later, Frank. Time to get ready.”
Meanwhile, up on the Satellite of Love…
“You know, Tom,” Crow was saying, “I think we rushed into marriage too fast.”
“True, true,” Tom said. “We were lured into the promise of happiness without fully investing in the work that it takes to build a successful marriage.”
“In other words, is it love?”
“Exactly, Crow!”
“Hey guys,” Mike said, popping up from the lower decks. “What’s going on?”
“Tom and I are going to try marriage again,” Crow said. “But slower.”
“You know, go out on a date or two,” Tom said.
“Hold hands.”
“Well, try, anyway.” Tom laughed, his non-working arms bouncing.
Mike shared a look with Cambot, never sure how serious these two were about what. “OK, I guess. That seems like a good plan.”
“And, we’re thinking, maybe you should—”
The Mads’ light flashed.
“Aw, heck, what do they want?” Tom muttered.
Inwardly, Mike sighed. This was weirdness he knew how to handle, more or less.
“Come in Thunderbirds,” he said, hitting the button.
“Ah, time for 'Sing Along With Mitch'. Let’s cut to the chase today, hmm? Frank and I have got a date tonight, and, frankly, I don’t want to waste much time on you.”
“That’s nice, Dr. Forrester. Who’s the… lucky?… person?”
“Frank.”
“Yeah, Clay?”
“No, Frank. Keep doing what you’re doing. I’m just talking to the experiment.”
“Oh, well, good for you two,” Mike said. “Hey, maybe you can give these two some pointers. Tom and Crow are thinking about—”
“Should we double date?” Crow blurted out. “That’s a thing, right?”
“Yeah, I mean, it is, but…” Mike began.
“You know, we could skip the experiment,” Tom said, inclining his head in a way that Mike assumed meant he’d be winking obviously if he, y’know, actually had eyes. “Go straight to the date.”
“Hmm, I suppose I could be persuaded once…” Clayton said.
“Yeah, think about it,” Crow said. “A little soft music. A little good food.”
Behind Clayton, the door to Deep 13 opened silently.
“Y’know, that might not be a bad idea,” Clayton said. “A little soft music. A little good food.”
“Uh, Clay?” Mike began.
“A good movie for a change…” Clayton said, thinking this over very carefully.
A strangely familiar person entered Deep 13.
“Uh, Dr. Forrester?” Crow said.
“Yes, this double date thing could work,” Clayton said.
The door shut.
Tom gulped.
“Screw it! I’m canceling this week’s experiment.”
“Clayton Deborah Susan Forrester!”
Clayton froze, then slowly turned around, eyes wide.
“Mother!” he managed to squeak out.
Pearl stood there, arms crossed, tapping her foot. “Did I hear you were canceling your experiment?”
“Just for tonight, Mother,” Clayton said.
Pearl arched an eyebrow.
Clayton cleared his throat and forced his shoulders down away from his ears. “I’m having a date tonight, and I can’t afford any distractions.”
Pearl clicked her tongue. “Clayton, every one of your dates has been a disaster. Who’s the unlucky slob now?”
Frank walked back into the room in his cleanest uniform—which didn’t look any different from his normal uniform, to be honest—his curl even curlier, then froze in his tracks.
“Pearl!”
That distracted her.
“Frank!”
They greeted each other warmly, while Clayton desperately tried to recover. He looked to the satellite link, as if begging for some sort of help.
“Frank, please talk some sense into this unfortunate son of mine,” Pearl said. “He thinks he’s going on a date.”
“Well, um, to be perfectly… Frank,” Frank said. The two of them erupted in a burst of laughter. “He is. We’ve got a double date tonight.”
“Ooh! Who’s the lucky someone for you, Frank?” Pearl asked, much more enthusiastic about his potential partner.
“It’s Clay.”
Pearl looked at her son, then back to Frank.
To Clayton.
Back to Frank.
“Oh.” Pearl shrugged. “Well, if anyone can make him better, it’d be you, Frank.” She stomped over to Clayton, grabbing his ear.
“Listen, you! If you hurt Frank, son of mine or not, so help me, I will destroy you.”
“Ow, ow, ow. OK, Mother!” Clayton said. “OK!”
Pearl tugged once more, then let him go. “And who are you going on this double date with?”
“That’d, uh, that’d be us,” Crow said from the satellite link.
“Art?” Pearl asked. “Now, who are you with?”
Mike and Tom shared a confused look.
“Hi, Pearl. That’d be Tom,” Crow said.
Tom startled. “What? Oh, uh, hi!”
Pearl nodded. “Well, I guess I feel a little bit better about this whole date thing. But I think you need a chaperone.”
“That’s OK, Pearl,” Crow said. “We’ve got Mike.”
Pearl’s eyes narrowed as she looked Mike over. “Well, that may be fine for you two, but I think someone should be down here, too.” She turned that suspicious look towards Clayton. “Especially you, young man.”
Clayton held out his hands, silently asking why, of all days, she had to show up now.
“Well, if you think that’ll work, Mrs. Forrester,” Mike said. “I’d be happy to help here.”
“Good.” She clapped her hands together. “So, Frank, what’s the plan for your date?”
About half an hour later, the six of them were settled in—in their respective locations, of course; Dr. Forrester wasn’t about to let Mike and the Bots down for something like a date—to watch a good movie.
“You know, Frank,” Clayton said, stretching to put his arm around Frank. Pearl cleared her throat loudly, and he put his arm back to his side. “This is almost exactly how I’d planned tonight to go.”
He picked up his drink. “What movie did you pick, anyway?”
“Showgirls.”