Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For Dandicus, his day went downhill far too quickly the moment he stepped inside the shop without his wallet. He probably had left it strewn out by his desk back at his little condo but he wasn’t quite too sure. All he knew was that some jackass saw him pat his bulky short pocket, where his mini gardening handguide sat, and then tailed after him until he reached the counter of Gardenview’s Good . Downtown had always held several influxes of issues; from the stingy traffic, to the cases of homelessness, to the addicts that tried to grasp at his ankles when he hurriedly shuffled by.

Like any good, sane, formal, man of 25, a string of quiet curses left his mouth when he felt something cold press against the nape of his stemmed neck, brushing the back of his low petals.

“Everything you have,” A gruff voice demanded roughly in his ear. “Draw it out, right now.”

Dandy held up his hands slowly but kept his eyes forward. He really did not want to start his morning like this. It wasn’t even 6 AM yet, the store had barely opened because he remembered telling Poppy she was in charge of  the starting shift. Granted, he expected to see the bubbly woman lift the store’s blinds to start but when he reached the double doors, there were already a few shoppers inside and their little sign had been flipped to flash a happy, green, OPEN. 

“You must really like flowers, I guess.” Dandy said. The stranger pushed the weapon a bit more forcefully. “Cuz I forgot my wallet.”

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, pollen-muncher.”

He sharply recoiled. “What did you just call me?”

Dandy tried to keep himself from launching at the guy after being called a slur—not that he could do much with his short form and weak arms. (Author’s Note: Dandy isn’t weak, he’s just an idiot when it comes to himself

“Eyes forward, man. Don’t make me hurt you just yet.” 

Like two partners in a rehearsed dance, the stranger pushed Dandy forward until they both stepped into the center of Gardenview’s Good. A nearby mother glanced up from where she had been looking through the close shelves, her baby tuckered in her stroller behind her. She froze when she saw the glint of a silver weapon prodded against Dandy. 

Dandy wanted to ask her if it was a gun but from her faintness, he kept his question to himself. Instead, he just gave her a clammy thumbs up and a sheepish, apologetic smile. 

So sorry about that! Dandy thought, antsy. I completely meant to walk in here with a possible gun to my head—GOOD MORNING MS. EIGHT! WONDERFUL DAY ISN’T IT? 

Great. Absolutely great. He was being held at gunpoint?knifepoint? by some random he didn’t even get a good glance at, inside this small, dinky, 5-9 convenience store with nothing worth robbing on his figure. It wasn’t like he had any jewels or smart watches for him to shrug off and then neatly gift to his antagonizer. The most might have been his small, albeit kiddy, smooth bracelet. It was supposed to match his dog!

Alternatively, he turned his attention to studying the current state of the store, in a sense to regain his ground and comfort. Listen, it was a lot of work to stay calm when someone held you at death’s door—and had it not been for his experience being held hostage in crime central Downtown, he would have been dead before stepping inside.

The sticky scents of cinnamon rolls and chocolate muffins wafted from where Cosmo’s bakery station sat. Luckily enough, the little guy wasn’t there just yet as his shift started later that morning. Poppy must have already set up his pre-made breakfast items for the early birds. So that meant Cosmo wouldn’t run into this mess but Poppy most likely would. Dandy held back a displeased groan at the thought of traumatizing his employees. 

Consequently, the door to the staff lounge slammed wide open and out walked his colleague with a soda pop in her hand and lanyard swinging around her left index finger. Poppy took a happy sip from her drink before noticing the two men stationed at the center of the store; the few morning shoppers watching from their spots far away from them.

“Oh, heya Dandy.” Poppy waved. “Hello, stranger who is holding my manager hostage!”

“Yeah, good morning to you too, Poppy.” Dandy huffed. Stay calm…stay calm..redirect your attention. He squinted at her drink. “What is that? A cherry-lime mesh?”

“It is.” Poppy nodded. 

At least she was enjoying herself. Poppy never truly looked outside of any grievances to Dandy’s jealousy. He wished he could be as chipper and oblivious as her but he found himself caring too much about the current states of affairs. Especially considering he was in charge of this Gardenview’s Goods and all.

“Could,” Dandy started. The guy behind him grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him to his chest, pressing the—yeah, that was a knife—to the front of his throat. His eyes watered from the sudden force but as long as he stays calm, no one else would freak out. “Could you grab me a lemon soda? I forgot my wallet and you owe me one.”

Poppy looked between both men, wide eyed and a little irritated. Knowing her, she was sour about the favor and possibly, if he put his rose tinted glasses on, anxious about his well being.

“Yeah, I got it.” She said briskly, clenching her soda can. Before she left the room, she glanced back at the bystanders and frowned. “Everyone get back to your business.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the lingering twilight shoppers shifted their attention back to scrounging the shelves. Dandy could hear the crinkling of chip bags and some packaged pastry sweets being shoveled into mini baskets and the crisp crunch of frozen food bags falling onto the aisles round the freezers.

“Why aren’t you afraid?” The guy ™ said in a low voice. His grip on Dandy tightened. But Dandy was a professional™. “I’m going to slice your throat if you don’t give me everything you have.”

He looked up to meet Poppy’s gaze as she returned from the staff room with Dandy’s requested drink. She hesitated near the counter, settling the cold cans on its slick tabletop. Then she took a wary step forward. Dandy shook his head, slightly, and blinked rapidly in warning as his abductor dug the hilt of his weapon into Dandy’s flesh.

“I WILL DO IT. I’LL KILL THIS LITTLE MAN, SO WALLETS OUT. ANYTHING VALUABLE, DROP ‘EM.”

Poppy froze with a tense scowl. Her hands gripped the frayed edge of her work uniform, pulling at its loose stitches. But she made no attempts to advance. Her gaze only lingered on Dandy’s prone form and how he held himself from shaking under this intruder’s grip.

Dandy’s eyes flicked to the clock hung snuggly on the weathered walls behind the countertop. It was 5 minutes away from 6 AM, and any minute now his favorite™  regular would shuffle in with his cold draft. Dandy held back his dramatic sigh of platonic™ longing and drooped in his captor’s arms. He needed to relax, to disengage the enemy in whatever way he could.

“If you’re going to kill me.” Dandy said slowly. He glanced up at the man behind him then back at Poppy with a quick tilt of his head towards the staff room. “Could you at least wait until after my favorite customer finishes his thing? I’d hate to leave him hanging y'know? I’ll even hand you over what he pays me as yknow, I don’t have my wallet—cuz I forgot it—hah—can you imagine that?”

The man slapped him, throwing his head back. Poppy grabbed the cold can of soda and held it over her head. She only lowered it when Dandy glared at her.

“ Shut up! ” Mr. Knife Holder snarled. “Ya think this is a joke? I ain’t joking about nothing, got that! Now you take me seriously or else I’ll kill ya right now and then everyone in this shop.”

Dandy’s lofty smile fell. 

“Let’s not do that!” Dandy hurried. “In fact why don’t we both calm down and head to the counter where we can both relax and talk about all of this huh?”

“There’s nothing to talk about! I already told you my damn demands!”

Fate must have been on his side for not a second later, the double doors opened and a chilly wind wisped by, ruffling his sweaty shirt. Dandy all but practically slumped over in relief—to his captor’s surprise. The man had only pivoted, bringing Dandy with him, only to stand petrified when he saw the newcomer.

Dandy gave a small wave from where he could.

“Heya, Jingles!” He greeted. “Uh, give me a sec and then I can ring you up, okay?”

“Dandy.” ‘Jingles’, otherwise known as the allusive hero Dreamweaver, said quietly. Despite his face being covered by the brim of his lunar hat, Dandy could feel Dreamweaver’s cold gaze locked on him. 

“Yeah…” Dandy winced. “Good morning, bud— “

He was interrupted by the abrupt shift in the air. The man behind him was harshly torn off by a whisper of blue magic ringing through the air. In a flurry or cold frost, Dandy’s captor found himself pinned to the wall like a measly insect with a lance of ice trapping him to concrete build. The clock above the counter shook off its hinges and crashed onto the floor. 

Dandy felt his racing heart slow to stop, settling after a moment of ease. Quickly, he hid the tremble in his deft hands, choosing to hide them in his pockets instead. 

“My clock!” He cried in dismay. 

Dreamweaver tilted his head curiously but said nothing. Instead he shuffled around the shop to grab his items for the morning. When he met Dandy again at the counter, he gently placed down an odd case of cheeseburger egg rolls(they had those?!) and pizza jerky(…). Dandy stared at the items then at Dreamweaver’s blank face.

“Keep the change.” The hero said curtly. Tediously, he reached down into one of his hidden pouches and dropped a handsome load of $20 for something worth  at least $9.87 at least. 

But just before he left, he hoisted Mr. Knife Guy™ up and out. 

“Bye, Jingles!” Dandy called out to the empty space.

◁───────────▷

Later that afternoon, Astro stopped by to visit. His friend was donned in his usual grey attire with a hefty, comfy, beanie wrapped over his bluebell head. The faint circles under his eyes made Dandy lean in to inspect him.

“Not getting enough sleep at the junkyard?” Dandy teased lightly. Playfully, he leaned on one arm and smiled up at his neighbor.

Astro dropped a bag of gummy worms, then followed with a pack of bubbling cherry soda. He didn’t indulge Dandy’s lighthearted banter but got straight to unloading his inquiries.

“Another slow day inside, huh?” Dandy mused. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad as an officer’s assistant!”

“Cadet.” Astro frowned. “There was a scene nearby. Attempted robbery and whatnot so we had to go clean it up.” 

“Oh wow.” Dandy breathed, leaning back. He furrowed his brows and looked at his hands. Faintly, his neck stung with nettles. “That’s…scary…Yup! Really scary. Poor guy...”

“What was scarier was the possibility of the hostage getting hurt.” Astro continued. “But otherwise it was a slow morning, just…tiring.”

“Coworkers being annoying, eh?” Dandy said, changing the subject. “I get ya. Luckily our troublemaker only has the weekend shifts and only then it’s thankfully part time.” 

“My condolences.” Astro said. He paid for his items and arranged them in his bag. Then, his eyes flickered up to the stain on the wall behind Dandy. “Is that…ice?”

Dandy followed his gaze, grimacing.

“Dreamweaver stopped by.” Dandy said. “He also stopped an attempted robbery.”

“And no one got hurt…right?” Astro asked hesitantly. His gaze lowered to the darkening bruise on Dandy’s cheek and something dim crossed his expression, shadowing the light in his somber eyes.

“Nope!” Dandy said. He gave a sheepish smile as he quickly covered that part of his face. “Just a few scares here and there but nothing too serious.”

“He should have been faster.” Astro said quietly. 

Chapter Text

Gambling was a common sport amongst the population. It drew attention from different groups of people with different principles and the vice of possibility when it comes to glamorous prizes was too strong to resist. It was easy to get into, but hard to escape. 

Like sharp tendrils of gluttonous greed, the urge to continue the gambit continued its growing pressure. Dandy gambled from time to time, when he had the chance. But his bets were on idiotic stakes, nothing that benefited great fortune. 

He placed bets on whether Cosmo would bake cinnamon rolls instead of apple fritters for breakfast. He placed bets on which corner the DVD logo would hit when their TV screen fell idle. 

And to make his life more interesting, he placed bets on what type of nuisance he would come across from his day to day work. Poppy got mugged on the subway trip to Gardenview and Cosmo nearly got run over by a speeding truck hijacked by local bandits. Dandy, by good fortune, didn’t come across trouble that morning while he jogged down 3rd street. At least nothing too grand.

He got chased down Fifth Avenue the day before by some big hounds, clambering after him in ‘Five Star Movement’ Speed types of horsepower, a built in speed gauge in their lolling mutton jaws. He managed to get away when civil hero, Grabby Goober, ran by and took the dogs with him.

The saturnine morning dissipated into another slow work day. Beside the run ins with the mess outside the shop, nothing much happened inside.

Albeit a bit shaky, Cosmo rang up his breakdown station with his trembles hidden behind the poofs of his cozy sleeves. The young man gave passing students discounts but charged rushing accountants extra.

Poppy raised a brow his way.

“What?” Cosmo shrugged innocently. He popped open another batch of crispy croissants and placed them on the display sheet. “It’s good money. They don't know what's overpriced..”

“That’s evil.” Poppy of all people muttered.

“I get paid extra.” Cosmo argued. “Makes it worthwhile, besides the students can’t afford the extra but these guys can.”

“Yeah, you should know, shouldn’t you?” 

Cosmo frowned to himself but went back to his business. He cleaned his trays and settled down his used prongs on the subside so he could grab himself a drink from Poppy’s expecting hand. As a college kid himself, the early breakfast shifts helped him stay alert for his tedious med classes. 

Seeing a slow trickle of customers enter the store, Dandy shuffled around his area. He cleaned some dirty spots over the racks in storage, brushed up on orders, cleaned their bathroom, and then finally pulled over to where his two co-workers were.

A glance at the clock showed that Poppy still had some time before her shift ended, then Dandy could call it in for his part as well. He scooted over to where Cosmo wiped down his steel counter. Two plates of grilled cheese sat neatly, almost shining in the golden noon light. 

As lunch hour rolled in, Dandy swiveled his seat to bump into Cosmo’s, knocking their legs together. 

“Dandy.” Cosmo groaned.

“Cosmo.” Dandy said, kindly.

“And Poppy.” The cashier called from her spot. “So, who won the bet?”

Dandy sighed deeply, drooping in his seat. Cosmo sent him a knowing smirk, like the little bastard he was. The smug air radiated off the baker in waves of sugary goodness. 

“Cosmo.” Dandy said.

Behind him, Cosmo punched the air in victory. 

Poppy scrunched her face. She looked aghast as if Dandy must have been tripping. He wasn’t tripping, no sir—ma’am. Their last bet featured the three crouched around late morning, a pit of playing cards scattered across the dingy thing they called a table in the breakroom. Cosmo called for at least a robbery of some sorts, as it was the safest bet to make. Poppy thought of a weather machine malfunction and Dandy went with the classic hostage situation.

Cosmo won with his safe ass wussy bet because Cosmo was a safe ass wuss who never stepped out of his comfort zone to bet higher. One could tell him to bet on all black and he’d find some way to make the game a round of ‘Go Fish’ instead and rather than betting chips, they put cotton balls in for stakes.

Poppy held up her hand in a disappointed sigh. Dandy went to their donation jar and slid over the last day’s savings over to Cosmo. The bitchboy(affectionate) looked giddy as he scooped his bid and pocketed it. Dandy dropped his deck of cards on the counter once more with a resounding slam of his battered palm.

“Ten on the subway getting hijacked this week.” He started.

“15 on a weather machine malfunction.” Poppy added.

“You already did that.” Cosmo said.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“20 on the subway hijack.” Dandy doubled his bid, a bit too eagerly.

Poppy popped her gum, narrowing her eyes. Her face said it all, ‘Dandicus Dancifer was a petty idiot’. Dandy agreed but only since it made his friends twitchy.

“10 on a fight on Main.” Cosmo piped up quietly.

“There’s that.” Poppy said. “Bets been placed and if Cosmo wins again, I’m sueing.”

Dandy frowned, whirling on Cosmo’s cheeky little ass. He reached over to pull on Cosmo’s sweet cheek, yanking the soft cake of his face. 

“Making safe bets again, like a lameass.” Dandy chided to Cosmo’s small yips. The cute little baker grabbed his face, perturbed in a remote manner of indignation. “Again.”

“You didn’t have to pinch me.” Cosmo said, biting his lip.

“I’ll bite you next time.” 

“Even worse!” Cosmo yelped. 

◁───────────▷

Dandy should have gone for a different bet in all fairness. How the fuck was he going to know that Roulette would saunter inside the shop as if she was not a rising villain in the crowd. She slammed the door behind her, shaking their little bell as the blaring of sirens raced by.

There, in the middle of the aisle, stood a stocky lady with glimmering star studded silver on her jumpsuit. A vest of red and black sat neatly on her torso, and a gold rim curved around the clear capsule hiding stolen goods on her crown. The rising villain played with her belt hoops, shifting through her pouches and blinding gold when she finally noticed she wasn’t alone.

Dandy dropped his cards on the desk by the counter. Cosmo didn’t have class later so he stuck around after his hours to help Dandy run Gardenview. He wasn’t getting paid overtime due to Dandy’s financial crisis but the sentiment was appreciated. Especially considering a top notch criminal just appeared through nonexistent tall grass. Dandy didn’t have his cap on nor a digi-ball whatever to summon Dreamweaver.

Roulette stared at them and then at the cards between their hands before she waltzed over with the dignity of a certified professional gambler in her glory.

“Whatcha playing?” She asked, casual in her stance. Her eyes narrowed in the state of their shop and the torn edges of their uniform.

Cosmo and Dandy glanced at each other. ‘Are you see this, dude’ was etched on Cosmo’s pretty face while Dandy exuded as much swag as he could with his own expression of  ‘holy mother of God’

Audacious, Cosmo leaned back in his seat to rub at his neck while looking away from Roulette’s searing gaze. Roulette tracked his movements as she pulled up a seat next to them.

While she focused on Cosmo, Dandy took notice of her nature in apparel. Chicanery dripped in her studded jewels galored in spades and clovers. A large Ace sat embedded in her avaricious collar, thrifted with gold chains and dotted with the shimmer of casino bling.

Dandy felt overwhelmed by her loaded aesthetics.

“Uhm…” Cosmo stammered, fixing an unsure look at Dandy. “What are we playing again?”

“Blackjack.” Dandy said quickly. “21. Blackjack 21.”

“Where’s the bid?” Roulette asked.

Cosmo gripped his fingers tightly and hissed. Their bids were based on chore duty not actual money, at least only when it came to casual gameplay such as then. To offer Roulette a gambit in cleaning bathroom stalls was a death wish, one neither Cosmo nor Dandy wanted to purchase at the time.

Dandy turned his wide eyed stare to Roulette who watched him carefully.

“It’s a casual game…” Cosmo offered slowly, sliding in with a nice save. Thank you comfort zone. 

“Casual?” Roulette inquired. She tilted her head, flashing him a toothy grin. A gold tooth glistened in the dingy light. “Mind if ya fellas deal me in for a round?”

“Uh…” Cosmo hesitated.

Roulette brought out something from her capsule. The plastic opening popped up like the maw of a beast and inside a silver Jules sat patiently, waiting.

“YUP!” Dandy nodded, instantaneously. “No problem, right? There is no problem there!”

“Exactly!” Cosmo nodded, “In fact, let me just deal you some right now!”

Roulette smirked idly. Being threatened with a gun was no fun thing, granted it happened to Dandy enough to where he could have written multiple college essays about it or enough to the point where Cosmo could recite the intricate models of each firearm held his way. Still there was no pleasure in knowing just one slip of the trigger could blast someone’s head clean off. 

Especially considering that it wasn’t an average Joe holding the gun this time but rather a promising villain on the rise to infamy. Roulette had a habit of running Casinos to the ground and getting back at loans for trying to scam her underground business. She made work of people that tried her, tested her patience and tolerance. Where she found glee in running people into financial ruin, she also found it messy to clean up.

Dandy slid two cards to her and sat back. The glimmer of the Jules hit his eye from the corner of the table. It sat there like an expectant puppy waiting to be pet, eager to please and happy to be of service. It was too unsettling.

Roulette took the cards, looked over them, then held out her palm.

“Hit me.” She demanded.

Dandy slid another card her way and she pushed her deck down flat. A 9 of clovers, a 6 of hearts, and final King of hearts. 

Cosmo and Dandy glanced at each other warily before revealing their own hands.

Cosmo hit a run of 17 while Dandy got a perfect 20 featuring two Jacks.

Swallowing nervously at his victory, Dandy slowly looked up to see Roulette stare at him. She brushed her cards aside and set off for another pull. The next hand dealt her 18 where she stood on business. Cosmo got 21 whereas Dandy hit a 16.

A silence stretched between the three with the only interruption coming from the continuous clicking of the gun.

That was two losses for Roulette. Neither Dandy nor Cosmo cheered. They simply sat there, body clenched, sweat dripping down their face with trembles in their bones. Roulette kept their rounds in intervals before she finally got a clean win of 19 against 27 and 25. 

“Well.” She said, looking up. A finger loosely messed with the trigger of the gun. “Y’all play fair. But I can see the rain down your brow.”

“Hah.” Cosmo cringed.

“How about we play, chill?”

“We’re so chill.” Dandy said. “Very chill.”

“Incredibly chill, ma’am.” Cosmo agreed. 

Roulette nodded. Finally, as if a higher power had heard them, she tucked the gun back into her capsule, and instead brought up a board game from the sphere of her crown. Cosmo held back a small wail.

“You boys play monopoly?” 

◁───────────▷

“What happened to you?” Astro asked him when the Police Cadet stepped to purchase his bag of gummy worms. People filed in through the door to get their daily conveniences. Dandy, still shaky from his prior encounter, had taken his seat back by the cash register, drumming his fingers against the table as he occasionally eyed the monopoly board shoved into their lower cabinets.

“Nothing.” Dandy said serenely. Astro stared at him, disbelieving but he said nothing else. 

Behind him, the countertop TV displayed the news of an aspiring kingpin being spotted in their neighborhood. 

Chapter Text

Dandy had run into Grabby Goober multiple times. It made sense; the guy was a civic hero, Listed in the C Rank. Tall, lanky, with stringy arms and roller blades under his heels, the man joyfully skated around park zones with some criminals on his tail. If Dandy made his assumptions, it would be that Goober managed to offend some of those folk with his..more simple ignorance.

It wasn’t that Goober meant it on purpose! Trust! 

It’s just, that, well…

He can be airheaded at times. 

“I just cleaned the floors.” Dandy mumbled to himself. 

Which was true. The andosite tiles had been scrubbed squeaky clean with hours of labor and soap and some sort of unfamiliar, niche, cleaning chemical Dandy couldn’t recall at the moment. Though the idea of mopping again swiftly fell apart when he saw the muddy tracks Grabby Goober brought in when he toddled through the shop’s doors, his long, spindly, prosthetic arms drooping against the ground.

“Hello? I just cleaned!” Dandy exclaimed, bursting out his hands. “Grabby, at least wipe your shoes on the door mat!”

If Goober heard him, he didn’t make any sign of acknowledgment. Instead, he rather sulked until he walked across the convenience store and then finally, stopped in front of a tall rack of chips.  

And he just stared.

Dandy shot a look at whoever was working on shift that time; uh some kid who kept to himself, Boxten or something. Boxten shrugged back at him. Did Dandy expect him to telepathically understand Grabby Goober’s sudden disposition? 

Dandy ignored the civic hero in his shop, at this point he was used to the randos that popped in outta nowhere. The fact that Grabby Goober was one of them wasn’t surprising, the guy was social enough to drop by local shops to boost their patronage.

In fact, boosting patronage was what he did right now. Just by sulking infront of the potato chip aisle, Grabby Goober managed to attract a small crowd around him. Some teens took pictures of him staring longingly at the fried corn flakes, his face the absolute imitation of a kicked puppy.

A small allusion to Pebble’s chubby face wormed its way into Dandy’s head. He quickly shook it away.

Comparing a grown adult to a puppy was not something he wanted to normalize, even if it were in his mental capacity.

The shop continued on as it did. People trickled in slowly to grab their little items and leave, maybe pick up a snack while they’re on their break, or stare at the random hero standing in the middle of aisle 3.

When Dandy blinked, he swore he saw a wave of teenages flood through the door, all bustling around the center of his hobbit hole shop with the need for online validation flashing in their eyes.

Boxten shrunk back behind his scanner. 

“Uhm,” One of the teens said, scooching forward towards an anxious Boxten. Dandy could smell his rank sweat from his place at the counter. 

This young lady had her outfit ready, her nails polished, makeup sharp, and her hand holding her camera like it was a totem granting immortality. 

She’s looking for Grabby Goober.

“We heard that Grabby Goober is in this fine establishment.” She said with a sweet tone.

Dandy rolled his eyes.

Although unlike him, Boxten rubbed the back of his neck. Then, he quickly pulled his arm back with a shiver, looking at his hand in disgust. It must have been the sweat.

“He’s in…Aisle 3..” Boxten said, hesitantly pointing his forefinger down the open corridor. 

Boxten’s voice slowly shook, a small tremble in his baritone pitch that mimicked the dip of his wagging digit. The young woman turned to her posé, giggling excitedly before she grasped their hands. She bounced in place once, like a child eager for a candybar, then yanked her friends down the aisle Boxten gestured to.

As if he had sensed Dandy’s displeasure, the purple flaps of Boxten’s head twitched when he made to face Dandy. Rusty mechanical brows furrowed on the felt of his skin, giving Boxten a sheepish look.

“We don’t need paparazzi here.” Dandy said quietly. 

Because he was tired. 

“I just wanted to help.” Boxten mumbled.

Which, for a moment, made Dandy frown. It wasn’t as if he didn’t share any apathy for the kid, he felt for Boxten. Really, he did.

BUT, Dandy was damn drained from the demanding door-breakings of hero fans busting it in his shop. They were crude, knocked over his shelves, and just felt entitled for compensation after wrecking his newly cleaned shop.

It was overwhelming, and sure as hell Dandy was not going to pull out a broom and start whacking them with it, bad protocol, although it was tempting.

“You can help by bringing in inventory behind the desk.” Dandy said. Boxten looked down with a small sigh. “It—don’t give me that look. It’s not that bad and I ain’t mad at you, dude.”

“You’re not?” Boxten blinked.

“I’m upset, yeah.” There was no use holding it back, otherwise Boxten wouldn’t have considered adding Dandy into his list of people to please. “But what’s done is done.”

It took Boxten a moment to collect his words from the bile of shame that clogged his throat. In his hesitation, Dandy’s back faced him. 

“I’m sorry.” Boxten whispered.

Dandy heard him. He was just too tired to respond.

It was actually later that evening, when Dandy went to clean up the shop after paparazzi had stormed off in a flurry of activity, when Grabby Goober actually moved. 

Dandy was scrubbing away on the floor, trying his best to pry the sticky gum residue from teenagers off his formerly pristine tiles. Instead, the muck just stuck to the diorite and refused to budge no matter how much Dandy begged.

“SON OF A—“

“Language.” Grabby Goober whispered.

Dandy shot up with another groan.

“Why are you still here!? You’ve been gawking at those twisted chips for hours! Just pick one or leave!”

Grabby Goober finally turned his head to face Dandy sprawled on the ground. His face was still impassive, brow turned with a crease.

“Are you closing early?” Grabby Goober asked. Because of course, he did. It wasn’t like there was a large sign out the door that had its LEDs off or anything! Or the fact that the only staff left was Dandy!

So, in a fit of silent frustration, Dandy gestured to the door and the dim lights that brought a gloom to the  shop’s interior. Anyone with a brain would recognize, yes; Gardenview is closed. Anyone with a brain would also realize that despite being closed, no, Dandy could not manhandle Grabby Goober out the door.

His built biceps were gardening biceps, formed from years of manual labor. They were not ‘kicking a civic hero out the door’ biceps. 

Grabby Goober eyed Dandy out the corner of his eye but kept his mouth shut. An uncharacteristic trait of him, as solemn as his posture and air. It would have unnerved Dandy had he not been too busy tearing through cleaning detergent. 

A sigh, then Dandy spoke again. “I can make some spaghetti in a bit.” 

“Spaghetti?” Grabby Goober croaked.

Dandy threw down the rag and sat back on his haunches. His palms were sweaty and his shirt clung uncomfortably to his skin. 

“Well, now I feel bad.” Dandy clarified. “You’ve been standing there for hours and..yeah—you didn’t pick anything or do anything or say anything to your fanclub.”

The civic hero blinked owlishly. Slowly, his face morphed cautiously with a dip of his lips’s thin line. The closest to a genuine frown on him, Dandy should clutch his pearls.

“Your fans?” Dandy pressed. 

“I have fans?” 

Oh, this idiot. Grabby Goober could be dense but not this dim. 

“Oh yeah, I do.” He muttered, turning back to the chip aisle. 

“Do you want spaghetti or not?” Dandy asked.

“I don’t know.”

It probably took a few minutes, but to Dandy, only a second. He was up before he realized and a box of spaghetti was gripped in his hand. There was a flashing consideration of tossing the pasta box to Grabby Goober—see if the guy would react and catch it—but Dandy decided against it and instead just brought it towards the back of the worker’s lounge.

Sprout’s cooking was a hit or miss but his brother had his methods of harassing Dandy to pay expert attention when called for it. This being one of those cases, although for odd circumstances. Dandy boiled the pasta, piped in drops of vegetable oil, heated up the sauce, drained the spaghetti noodles, then finally mixed it with the crimson marinara until it meshed well with the spindly noodles. 

There were no tables, nor anything for Goob to use as a seating arrangement. Instead Dandy just slid over his counter and watched the civic hero sulk over. A raincloud practically hovered over his head, pelting down invisible drops of wet, soggy tears.

Wait.

No, that was Grabby Goober. 

Alarm flashed through Dandy when he actually realized Grabby Goober was crying over his spaghetti. His cooking wasn’t that bad, was it? Certainly not—Sprout made sure to teach him how to rough up something edible at least, even if it wasn’t bursting with flavour!

“Heya man,” Dandy scratched his cheek, reaching for a countertop packet of tissues. They were worth at least 2 bucks at most. 

Darn it. That’s going out of his pocket. Grabby Goober didn’t even take it. The packet hit the floor with a small thwack.

“I’m sorry it ain’t that great—but I can’t really do much after you already took a bite, y’know?”

If anything, his words caused the Civic hero further distress. His tabletop counter creaked ominously from the weight of the man lumbered over it. Grabby Goober wasn’t a small guy—in fact he towered over most folk Dandy ran across. Sprout was tall, for sure, but his stingy brother only beat Grabby Goober by a few inches. This tall wreck of a hero was curled around his counter with a tight grip that nearly shattered its frame. 

Dandy could not afford to replace that. At least not at the moment. 

“Grabby Goober—what is the matter with you, hun?” Dandy pressed, doing his best to keep the apprehensive tremor out of his voice. Luckily, Grabby Goober didn’t pick up on it.

Did he have any large tweezers laying around? Hero-sized perhaps? With those he could possibly pry Grabby Goober off his counter and then drag his floppy, pathetic, form across the floor until he’s out. 

But he didn’t have large tweezers or sticks or nets or anything of the sorts to use on Grabby Goober. The one thing he had was his will.

And patience. But that made two things.

Then there was also the spaghetti, which made three things.

So he had three things to deal with Grabby Goober and none of them were really working.

“I…I don’t know what the matter is with me.” Grabby Goober admitted after a while. “I’ve never felt like this before…!”

Dandy raised a brow.

“Have you…have you ever found out something so…shocking or I don’t know…scary that it keeps you up but you can’t tell anyone..?” 

“I can’t say I have.” Dandy replied.

Grabby Goober opened his mouth to only close it momentarily.

“Then you wouldn’t get it.” The Hero murmured until his voice was as light and quiet as his breath. 

Excessively chipper folk always had that more sorrowful dimension to them. Dandy just didn’t expect to see Grabby Goober’s so soon or at all. To relay that emotional burden to an acquaintance—someone he barely knew—must have been causing a sort of imbalance. Dandy certainly would not have sobbed over any stressful issues in front of someone he didn’t know as well as Sprout or Astro. In common hindsight; most folk wouldn’t vent to strangers—to present a weakness like that was putting a soft spot open to a probable knife. 

Then again Dandy wasn’t Grabby Goober, and if he was upset enough to get this much out after letting his fester into great anxiety—he was doing the best he could.

Grabby Goober didn’t move from the counter. He laid over it, hunched up and his posture stiff. The rest of the night went that way with the young Civic Hero draped over a cold, pristine board. In fact, Dandy didn’t go home that night. The morning quickly came to his distress as he didn’t catch a wink.

A soft blanket was pulled over Grabby Goober’s shoulders, covering the fabric of his dirty suit. The shop was empty thankfully as there was still time until Poppy arrived for her starting shift. But that still left Dandy there with heavy eyes and a tired sigh. 

He couldn’t leave Grabby Goober there for the customers to bother. The guy had eventually managed to fall asleep sometime past 2 AM and he continued to stay heavily knocked out.

In his lightheadedness Dandy slumped over the counter as well, nearly bonking his head against Grabby Goober’s. Even if he did, the hero’s head was soft as a plush, a good cushion if anything.  

He just wasn’t ready for the Dreamweaver of all folks to step in through the doors at 4 AM, an hour before opening.

Dandy blinked blearily at him.

“Were those not closed?”

Dreamweaver closed the door behind him. He opened it just for show with a wry smirk on his shadowed face. Sly jerk.

“Give me a second and I can help you.” Dandy said, burrowing into his hands. “Even though we're not open.”

“Your doors weren’t locked.” Dreamweaver said.

“I can see that.” 

“I was passing by and I sensed a disturbance in the force.” Dreamweaver continued. “When I peered inside, you were in here. Along with Grabby Goober..”

Dandy shrugged. He leaned back in his seat.

“He fell asleep in here and I couldn’t exactly move him out on my own.” Not to mention that would make Dandy too much of a jackass. He was plenty fine with kicking Grabby Goober out his shop when the man was awake. Being unconscious for it, was another thing.

“I see.” Dreamweaver mused. “So, it must have been him that drew me here.” 

His mind still blurry, Dandy yawned and didn’t reply to Dreamweaver or question the extent of his powers. He swung forward on his seat, nearly hitting his head against the counter before barely catching himself. 

“If you don’t mind,” Dandy said, turning to his favorite customer. “Mind helping me move him to the lounge?”

Dreamweaver glanced at him, curiously.

“It’s so folk don’t bother him while he’s taking his fat nap!” 

“Makes sense.” Dreamweaver nodded.

It was only when Grabby Goober was laid out amongst the couch in the workers room, and after Dandy rang up Dreamweaver’s usual order of gummy worms, did Dandy realize his phone was about to die. 

He quickly charged it in a nearby port as Dreamweaver made to leave, a hand held high as he casually strolled out the door. Then, he shot a handsome smile over his shoulder.

“Make sure to get some sleep, love.”

Dandy’s phone brightened to several messages sent from his neighbor. Astro pinged him at least five times and called him thrice. 

The latest message read [Where are you?] at 3:38 AM. 

He scrolled down.

Astro Logical;3(Funny Neighbor)

[Dandy, are you home? I don’t think I saw you arrive.] sent at 1:56 AM.

[You’re not working late nights again are you? You barely get enough sleep as it is.] sent at 2:10 AM.

[Just checked in with reception. You’re not back home yet. You’re an hour late. Did you get kidnapped?] sent at 2:35 am.

[Missed Call]

[Dandy.] sent at 2:59 AM

[Missed Call]

[Hello?] sent at 3:17 AM

[Is everything okay?] sent at 3:20 AM

[Missed Call]

Huh. He didn’t expect Astro to care so much. 

With the last slip of battery left on his phone, Dandy hurriedly typed in his reply to his friend.

As he sent his response, his phone clattered from his hands.

Did…did Dreamweaver call him love?

Chapter Text

Dinner dates were popular outings for new couples. It was a safe olive branch offered to a possible partner; one they can grab on to and test out the safety of new waters. That being said, the diner was a good spot for buddling couples to hold hands and eat spaghetti and whatever they wanted. Maybe they could make out behind the booths when no one was looking, but unfortunately they would be spotted regardless.

If not by a stranger then by Astro Namical Novalite at least. There, nestled into a groove of a far table hidden by the protrusion of the bar’s counter, sat a couple mucking it up. Astro felt his eye twitch and he tore his gaze away, a chill settling in his sternum from the mushy sentiment.

 He unfortunately had a good eye, too good of an eye that managed to catch onto strays that edged along the confines of his vision. Maybe it was a curse for his peculiar observation but then again the scary talent came during his job on the field. Being an enforcer meant putting himself out there in enemy fire and if he wasn’t quick enough to track where the opposition went, he would be cooked.

Astronomically cooked.

“Oh hell no.” 

Likewise, a familiar grating voice entered his common ground and as if he were donned in the familiar navy of his uniform, Astro’s eye instinctively locked onto the lanky waiter hovering near his table. Ugh, Sprout. The not-man of the hour with his shrill eyes fixed into a continuous glare behind the shaggy bangs of his leafy fringe.

“Hello, Sprout.” Astro greeted calmly. He leaned back on his seat, a comfy booth he picked out that was tucked away in the corner of the diner, away from prying eyes. This might have been a perfect spot for a cheeky couple to hold a makeout session, but he beat them to it. “Fine weather we’re having.”

“Nuh, uh.” Sprout scowled. “I blacklisted you! You’re banned—you cannot be here!”

“Finnegan let me inside. I have a reservation.” Astro casually continued. He reached for the menu in Sprout’s hand and tugged it free from his stingy grip.

At the mention of his coworker, Sprout whirled around to find his marine peer. A scolding was ready on his tongue, dipped in barbed nettles. 

Astro listlessly flipped through the menu. Each page turn was loud and its thwaps were purposeful noise to test Sprout’s temper. 

A red hand slammed the pamphlet down. 

“Ouch.” Astro deadpanned. It didn’t hurt at all but Sprout’s eye twitched dangerously.

“You know I don’t like cops poking around my diner.”

“It’s not your diner.” Astro corrected, “and I’m not a cop.”

“Yet.” Sprout snarled. “You arrested my boss! Illegally! Without a warrant! A-and for what? For a trip to the hospital for three months after you found out he was innocent?!”

Astro snorted at the man’s naivety.

As far as the public was aware; Sprout’s boss was in the hospital. However the truth revolved on the man forfeiting his own life and taking a shit ton of evidence with him. Evidence for what? Astro couldn’t tell you just yet, not without getting into spoiler territory. Sprout and the media could believe in his former employer’s claim but justice spoke otherwise. And Astro made a vow to keep the truth under-wraps until Detective Rodgers could figure out his piece.

Astro studied the quiche on the menu’s laminated sheet. Sprout’s fingers still covered a good portion of the description but the images of the select items looked delectable enough. 

“Mm, I’ll take a rosy quiche.” Astro commented.

“GETT OUTTT!” Sprout yelled at him. “Get out you NARC!”

A few customers glanced over at them, varying expressions on their diluted bystander faces.

“I didn’t arrest your boss. He got himself arrested and I just happened to witness it.” Astro said. He thought for a moment .“Oh and make my quiche a double.”

The table creaked ominously. It shook under Sprout’s weight. The man had leaned over, his breath ghosting Astro’s face. A hefty scent of peppermint and spice dusted across him. Astro twitched but hid his scowl. The air churned with something heavy, something that made his arms itch with a cold sensation piling up on his fingertips. 

It would be so easy to fling Sprout across the room, for even thinking of getting so close to his personal bubble. Did this idiot not know of boundaries? 

“I have a reservation.” Astro said smoothly, but even then his voice was devoid of any lightness he carried earlier. No more smug exasperation stuck around in his tone. 

“Yeah? With who? Yourself ?” Sprout sneered.

“Your brother.” Hah. Gottem. ‘Your mother’ jokes were too common so Astro had to switch it up. 

Sprout reeled back. A thunderous expression crossed his brow and for a second Astro expected him to actually throw a punch. 

“Hah! What? Did you get that information from my file? You tryna fuck me over?”

It was on Sprout’s file from what Astro faintly remembered. A small, patchy relevance under his family history. Astro didn’t pay it much mind back then as he was preoccupied with other matters; such as shifting through all the files of the diners roster. 

The bell of the restaurant jingled. It held a cute chime like the one Astro heard when walking into small bakeries and goodies. And like the one in Dandy’s store.

Adversely,  Sprout didn’t backtrack despite a new customer waiting for their service. Granted there were other waiters and hosts who could tend to the new patron, but Sprout getting all up on a customer’s face surely wasn’t good for business.

If Sprout wanted to cause trouble for the diner, that’s on him. Fin was spotted in the background, escorting a tray of refinements to another table. All at once, Astro was reminded of why he initially stopped by to begin with.

He was hungry and even though he held several stakeouts at this post, their food was good enough to stick around for, outside of a professional standpoint.

“Um..Sprout?” 

Astro tensed and his heart leaped in his throat from the newcomer’s voice. He immediately recognized the inflection of his tone, the reserved rasp that followed his jolly pitch. From the looks of it, so did Sprout.

“Dandy!” Sprout said. He finally leaned back to face him. Gone was the furrowed brow and disheartening glower. Astro was surprised to see the rather prospective look on his red berry face. “You didn’t tell me you were stopping by.”

“I..uhm,”  Dandy rubbed the back of his neck, a bit sheepish. “I didn’t. I saw Astro in the window and—“

Sprout fell to his knees, grasping at Dandy’s shirt. 

“NO! Tell me it isn’t so!” He exclaimed. “Please tell me you aren’t on a date with Astro!”

Dandy blushed. Astro choked.

“I’m sorry what?” Dandy stammered.

Astro took his chance and pounced. 

“Dandy, I was waiting for you.” Astro started. He held his gaze unceremoniously and nodded at the seat across from him. “You sure do know how to make a man wait.”

Dandy blinked, his jolly smile faltering as he glanced between Sprout and Astro. 

“For our…date.” Astro continued. “Yknow, our date, the one I made this reservation for.”

“You actually had a reservation with my baby brother!” Sprout all but wailed. “Are you serious?!”

The shock was a displeasure. Astro blinked rapidly as he processed what he heard. No, it couldn’t be. The stingy waiter that despised him happened to be his Dandy’s brother?! Astro felt the floor give way and he slumped in his seat.

“Oh!” Dandy snapped awake. Consequently, he tripped over himself as he stumbled over to Astro’s side. ABORT! Astro clearly gestured to the seat ACROSS from him, not next to him!“Right—our date! Whoops! Y’know how I am, Sprout—always forgetting to mention these typa things!”

A groan of displeasure built itself up in Astro’s chest and he felt ready to belt it to the world would it not be muffled by Sprout’s dramatic sobs. 

The waiter wasn’t crying, not necessarily, but he certainly felt ready to climb onto the table and strangle Astro for even thinking of dating his baby brother.

“YOU!” Sprout denounced, waving an accusing finger at Astro. It was enough to return the distaste in his throat. The burn of irritation flared inside his veins. Astro gripped the edge of the tablecloth and fought to keep his collected expression. “You ordered! Before Dandy even came! What type of date are you?!”

In Astro’s defense he didn’t expect Dandy to arrive at all! Not that it wasn’t unwanted. Their proximity seared in his brain and his heart thumped dangerously the closer his neighbor got. Astro shuffled to the other end of the booth to retain a fair distance between them. 

“It’s okay!” Dandy insisted. One of his arms flailed out wildly. Ditzy even. Was he trying to smack Astro on purpose in his haste to calm Sprout? “I told Astro he could order ahead of time since I would have been late.”

They got more stares from watching customers. Some even muttered about their drama to their peers. Astro was sure he saw someone try their best to inconspicuously record them.  He covered his face. 

Damn it Sprout. Also a smooth recovery from Dandy. 

“Just get the damn quiche…” Astro grumbled. It took enough prying from Dandy to kick Sprout’s raggedy ass out of their business. Lest to say, the waiter didn’t stop throwing nasty side eyes at Astro, only they were deflected by Dandy’s presence. He was a shield if anything. 

Seeing as one of the instigators left, the crowd thankfully turned back to their own plates, though the occasional patron still glanced expectantly over. Astro leveled a glare at them. Mind your damn business.

“Sorry about that.” He said when the calm returned. Astro turned to face Dandy. His friend sat painfully awkward in the large cushy booth, nearly sinking into its plush. He offered Astro a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I didn’t know you and Sprout were brothers.”

“Half brothers.” Dandy laughed. Absent-mindedly, he scratched his plump cheek. Astro took this time to examine Dandy’s appearance. 

He was nestled in a soft sweater over his usual button up and instead of those awful jean shorts, he traded them off for pleasant khakis. His petals were a tad bit faint too, softer in color instead of the blaring bold rainbow palette they usually donned. He looked…comfy but his eyes still bore shadows of staying up late at Gardenview’s.

“I didn’t mean to drag you in.” Astro continued softly. “Or pull you away from work.”

“It’s fine..I’m on break.” Dandy waved him off. “Poppy and Boxten have things covered for now. I guess I just needed some time off from the place, and by that I mean like an hour or so.”

Astro furrowed his brows. That was strange..Dandy was all but glued to that convenience store. It was his income and future investment. Back when Dandy sat in front of him in psychology, the man had missed winks during their lectures and had to borrow notes from the guy over since he spent too much of his waking hours cleaning and running that small shop. 

“Did something happen?” Astro asked. 

“No.” Dandy replied too quickly. Sweat dripped down his temple. Dandy dabbed at it with a tissue from a nearby dispenser.  “It’s fine, I swear.”

The paleness in his mellow skin said something else but Astro didn’t push it. It got jotted into a mental file he was sure to review later, when he had more privacy from straying eyes.

Dandy smiled, truthfully this time, though his gaze didn’t meet Astro’s. They found a niche interest in the tablecloth and the patterns woven into the lacy hem of the fabric. 

“Thanks by the way.” Dandy said, all but burning a hole into the wood. “For the date, heh. I just wanted to say hi but then I saw Sprout bothering you. I know he can be a bit much but he means well.”

A bit much was an understatement. A wry huff bubbled through Astro’s scoff, but he made sure to keep the crease on his face as a sign of amusement. 

“Don’t worry about it.” Astro mused. “I’ll pay.”

“Okay, who are you, my sugar daddy?” Dandy asked. 

Astro could already hear Sprout’s phantom, agonized scream ghosting the venue. It was enough to make him smirk a bit sharply. 

“I’m just paying for food at a rather affordable diner.” Astro shrugged. “Doesn’t make me rich enough to spoil you as a sugar baby. Besides, think of it as a thanks for not making me look like a fool in front of Sprout and half the restaurant.”

“I can pay for my picks, Astro.” Dandy rolled his eyes. “Don’t stress it, buddy.”

“It’s a date,” Astro said. He didn’t know why he insisted. “I got it covered. Gotta make myself look good for the invisible moral police.”

“So you?”

“I’m not a cop.”

Dandy picked up a fork from one of the empty plates. He waved it in front of Astro the way a child would wag their finger to catch their friend’s attention.

“Not yet.” He noted. “But that promotion might be coming soon and our humble Astro will be pulled out of the reserves?”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Astro said. 

The shine of the fork looked dull in Dandy’s grasp. Even if the man was losing color due to poor health decisions, the mint blush on his pale cheeks was bright enough to outglow the glimmering silverware. Astro felt the itch to trace his digits over the moles on his face. He felt..silly.

“Besides, like you said. This would be a nice break for you. So I insist that I pay.” Astro concluded. The blush on Dandy’s face grew exponentially and Astro declared he liked the color mint.