Chapter Text
From a news standpoint, Vicki's life had picked up in a record amount of time.
On Tuesday night, she had interviewed Altruistic Alvin, Applyburg's newest superhero, had gone for a ride on his super vehicle, had witnessed the final moments of his fight with a supervillain named LarryBoy, and had been nearly harmed by LarryBoy but was rescued in time by Alvin. Wednesday morning, Vicki had gone to get photographs of the crime scene which Alvin and LarryBoy had left behind. Over the next few days her editor, Bob the Tomato, had sent her to cover various events, but on Saturday afternoon came the real excitement. She had met Alvin again and attended a press conference with him while the superhero had been undercover. A supervillain named S-Cape had shown up and kidnapped Vicki, and Alvin had chased after them, saving Vicki's life yet again.
Following that last adventure, Bob had run a well-received article about it (which he must have had mixed feelings about, given the conflict between his mistrust toward Alvin and his zeal for his job). Rival newspapers and news channels had been trying to contact her for interviews, and Vicki's coworkers at The Daily Apple had asked her multiple times for the details.
Still, on the following Monday, things began to look somewhat normal again. At nearly six o'clock in the evening, Vicki worked at her station, typing bylines for photographs and cross referencing notes which Bob had left waiting for her when she had come into the office. The mail cart passed her desk, and an onion wearing a baseball cap deposited a stack of letters by her keyboard. Vicki hummed her thanks, barely giving the man a side glance.
I don't remember the new intern being so tall, she thought, but before she could dwell more on it, a friendly asparagus woman slid up to her desk and plopped against the edge. From the way her green makeup looked in need of a touch-up, she must have just returned from her recent assignment on the streets.
"Hey, Vick," she greeted. "How was the big birthday trip with your brother?"
Vicki smiled. "Oh, Franky was glad to see us."
The asparagus, named Nadine, hopped onto the desk casually. She was one of Vicki's fellow photojournalists and main rival at the paper, but outside of vying for the best assignments, they had a good rapport with each other.
"Did you go anywhere fun? Try any nice restaurants?"
"No, we were only able to see him for an hour," Vicki replied, picking up her mail as an excuse not to make eye contact, "but we made the most of every minute."
When one's little brother was in prison, there were not a whole lot of options for celebrating his big day. Vicki had only been able to hug him twice the entire visit — once when they met him in the visiting room and once in parting — but it was good to see his glowing face and to listen to his jokes and stories and to hear how he had been faithfully attending the weekly Bible study. He was so different from how he used to be that Vicki would have been suspicious of him pulling a long con if multiple guards and even the prison warden had not confirmed the authenticity of his radical change.
"And at least he had fun," Vicki added.
Nadine smirked, arching an eyebrow. "Did he find out about Altruistic Alvin rescuing you from a supervillain on Saturday?"
"Oh, yes," Vicki smiled wryly. "I think that was the first time in a long while that I scored any street cred with my little bro. He thought it was pretty awesome to have a sister who has survived near-death experiences. My parents, on the other hand, weren't as thrilled."
"I'll say!" Nadine chuckled, giving Vicki an admiring look. "If S-Cape had snatched me off a roof and zoomed off, I would've probably fainted on the spot."
"Well, we cucumbers try to stay cool headed," Vicki replied — and sat up with a gasp, gaping at the note in her grasp.
"What?" Nadine asked, looking astonished.
"Oh, uh, just something in my mail," Vicki replied distractedly, tucking her letters to the side. She scanned the office space for the intern with the mail cart, but he had already vanished.
"Something good?" Nadine pressed, her green face glinting with a photojournalist's fervor. "Like a huge story development?"
"Well, you never know," Vicki hummed, smoothing down her blonde hair.
"C'mon, Vick, spill. We can share the byline."
"Not this time, Nay," Vicki replied, reaching into her desk pocket to pull out her compact. Oh, was her purple eyeshadow okay? Did she need to touch up her green foundation? Maybe add a little lipstick? Adventure might await her — including photo ops — and she wanted to be ready.
Nadine laughed, turning away. "Fine. Keep your secrets, but remember this moment the next time I get a big scoop that you want in on."
"Will do."
Casting another look around the office, Vicki sat down and discreetly picked up the handwritten (probably literally!) note on yellow paper that had been included in her mail.
Meet me on the roof when you're done with work — A
She could think of only one guy on the planet who would send her a secret message at work, and if he was asking her to meet him on the roof, that probably explained how he got past security.
After all, a superhero who had built his own hovercraft did not have to worry about using ground-floor entrances.
Vicki valiantly waited out the next half hour, doing her best to stay focused on her work. Usually she could get so caught up in her computer files that she stayed late, but now she could barely focus on the images on her screen, not wanting to miss a second of what might lay before her.
The clock on her screen seemed to be deliberately moving as slow as possible, and her mind kept pondering over question after question.
Was Alvin there to tell her something big, like a break in the LarryBoy case regarding the almost stolen artifacts at the Applyburg Institute of Archaeology? Had he dug up some leads about S-Cape, the gourd supervillain who had kidnapped Vicki on Saturday? Was there an even newer supervillain in town that he wanted to warn her about? Had he come to give her another exclusive interview? Had he discovered a bioweapon created by a mad scientist that was about to overtake the city? Was a meteor about to strike Applyburg?
Or was it something more benign, like wanting to check up on her like a big-brother figure after her experiences with two different supervillains in one week? Did Alvin actually know what time she left the office, or was he up there right now waiting indefinitely for her to make an appearance? Or did he already know she often stayed late, and so he would not come until well after nightfall?
At last, the digital clock switched to 7:00, and she promptly shut down the computer. She put her folders of photographs away and stood, reaching for her work camera on its strap, which she shouldered. She grabbed some extra film rolls for good measure and forced herself not to make an unladylike sprint to the elevator.
Before she could reach the doors, however, a cucumber man cut in front of her, wearing a playful smile. Although he wore a light-tan janitor's boiler suit and carried a mop, he was pretty cute by cucumber standards. He tipped his cap in greeting.
"Hey, Vicki. Going home?"
"I eventually aim to, Larry, " she replied evasively. "I might make a stop or two along the way."
Larry chuckled, leaning against his mop and giving her a suave look. "Do you like Mexican food?"
"Why, sure."
"Great!" He suddenly beamed, and his single tooth made his smile look incredibly adorable. "I know of this one place a few blocks from here that has great tortillas and all the fresh chips you can eat."
Although Vicki was in a hurry, she could not help admiring his sweetness. Larry could get sarcastic around the others, often humorously so, but he showed a softer side toward Vicki that she found quite endearing.
"Larry, how are you able to afford taking me out so often?" she laughed. "We had lunch three times last week."
"We janitors make more money than you think," Larry replied with a wink. "It pays to know how to use a plunger. So, what do you say? There could be some sopapillas in it for you."
She almost hated to turn him down, but her mind went back upstairs to the roof and what might be waiting for her, and she reluctantly shook her head.
"It sounds great, Larry," she said, edging around him to continue toward the elevator, "but maybe next time. I already have a previous engagement."
He turned to follow her with his eyes. "With Alvin?"
Vicki halted without meaning to. "Why would you think that?"
"He's saved you a bunch of times," Larry answered, growing more serious.
She rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. "Only twice."
"That's more than most people's share," Larry pointed out dryly.
She frowned. "Well, the next time Alvin shows up to save my life, I guess I can tell him, 'No, stop! Let another hero have a turn.'"
"Maybe you don't need a superhero at all," Larry said, stepping toward her. "If anyone ever tried to hurt the girl I liked—"
But before he could finish, a strange beeping arose, causing them both to freeze.
"What's that sound?" Vicki asked, perplexed. "I keep hearing it around the building,"
"Oh, uh, probably my janitor beeper," Larry said hurriedly. "It beeps when somebody needs a janitor. Excuse me."
Larry zoomed away without a backwards glance and dove into the janitor's closet, slamming the door behind him.
Without a pause, Vicki hopped into the elevator, but before she could close the doors, a gaggle of reporters stepped in with her, chatting about evening assignments or dinner plans or last Saturday's episode of Mr. Buttons the Handy Monkey. ("He's got hands!" some of the veggies chorused, quoting the announcer from the show's opening credits.) Vicki was not about to let her coworkers get wind of her rendezvous with a superhero and plaster it across tomorrow's paper (or alert Bob the editor, who might forbid rooftop rendezvouses going forward), so she rode down with them. She followed them out into the lobby, then spun and went back to the elevator as though she had forgotten something upstairs. She pressed the button for the roof and stood in anticipation as the car moved slowly up — second floor, third floor, fourth floor, fifth floor, and then…
The doors parted, and by now Vicki had arranged her features into a calm, confident mask. She sauntered onto the roof and surveyed the scene before her with a knowing smile.
Beside the massive structure bearing the logo of The Daily Apple— a smiling cartoon apple nicknamed Andy — the famous floating platform belonging to one Altruistic Alvin had been parked. A tall floor lamp with a smiley face drawn on one side stood at the back of the platform, tethered by a safety belt. Meanwhile, a tall onion wearing a baseball cap leaned back against the handlebar controls on his elbows — indeed, he had elbows. Beneath his large head, a mass of green roots formed his thin torso and split into a pair of lanky arms and legs, the latter of which resembled bell bottoms. In contrast to his casual baseball cap, he wore a short, dark-purple cape with a high collar.
As Vicki approached, the onion flicked the visor up and lazily turned his head, but his yellow eyes gleamed with fun. He was far from handsome in the conventional sense — pale skin on a mostly bald, bulbous head, a pair of bushy, brown eyebrows, a beak-like mouth with sharp teeth, a monocle that drew attention to the unnatural color of his eyes — but the friendliness and good humor radiating from his face more than made up for his physical faults and helped a veggie feel at ease around him.
"Hey, stranger," Vicki smiled at him. "It feels like over forty-eight hours since I last saw you."
"Eh, give or take." He stood, stretching to his enormous height, which would have probably put him level with a zucchini or daikon. He linked his hands behind his head, grinning. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in getting a ride home from a superhero?"
Vicki's eyes sparkled, but she maintained her calm smile.
"Intriguing offer," she replied. "What brought this on?"
Though he kept his friendly manner, his smile noticeably receded.
"Well, S-Cape is still at large," he admitted. "Since he has already made an attempt on your life, and has threatened to do so again, it seems that the best thing to do until he's caught is to make sure that you are safe. So, here I am, at your disposal."
He dipped into a half bow.
Vicki studied him, processing what he had said. So, this was not about a huge news story or any impending danger. He was just offering to give her a lift home.
…An actual superhero was offering to give her a lift home on his super vehicle, simply because he wanted to protect her.
Slowly, a new grin took over her lips. She stepped forward, meeting his eyes.
"Alvin, are you seriously going out of your way to be my bodyguard?"
He cleared his throat and rubbed his neck, looking suddenly sheepish.
"Well… That's what normal friends do, right?" he returned. "They look out for each other."
Vicki's smile widened. "Sure, Alvin."
He brightened at her words, as though he had not expected her to confirm that they were friends, and compassion welled up inside Vicki toward him. She knew Alvin had not grown up with any real friends, as his grandfather had deliberately kept him from getting close to anyone, and Alvin had turned to a floor lamp for companionship. Although he had earned the approval of many Applyburgers as a superhero, his busy and often dangerous lifestyle no doubt made it hard for him to forge many lasting connections. Having a good friend to guard (and carpool with) must have been a novel experience for him.
Alvin stepped back, making a sweeping and flourish to welcome her onto the hovercraft, and she hopped onto the middle part of the platform, nodding to the lamp.
"Hey, Lampy," she said jokingly. "How's it going?"
The lamp smiled back silently.
As Alvin stepped back onto the platform, Vicki had a sudden idea.
"Have you eaten yet?" she asked. "Maybe we could grab some dinner."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Dinner?"
"Do you like Chinese?" she ventured. "There's a nice restaurant near the police department, right by the movie theater."
He turned, tilting his head. "On Vischer Street?"
"That's the one."
Alvin smiled, rather bemused. "A little out of the way, isn't it?"
Vicki grinned back. "Hey, the best orange chicken in town is worth it."
"Well, when you say it like that…"
Alvin handed her a safety belt to tether herself to the hovercraft and buckled himself in before turning on the ignition. Although the belt was secure, Vicki grabbed hold of Alvin for extra safety as the hovercraft rose into the air, and they glided off toward the edge of the downtown. As they neared the perimeter of the urban buildings, blocks of suburban houses gradually began to appear in the darkening distance, including a wooded plot of land which Vicki knew belonged to an eccentric local millionaire who rarely appeared in public. Vicki had been able to photograph nearly all the social elite of Applyburg for the paper, but the young, mysterious head of CukeCorp still eluded her.
Wouldn't it be something to finally get a shot of Lawrence the Cucumber tonight, on top of having dinner with Altruistic Alvin? Vicki mused. Not that she would ever stoop to the lengths that some members of the paparazzi pulled to get onto the Larry Manor property (which often resulted in uncomfortable repercussions for trespassers), but that would certainly be a fine feather in a photojournalist's cap.
Just as Vicki spotted the tall facade of the police department and the lights on the marquee of the old movie theater, something began to beep and flash on the hovercraft controls. Alvin pressed a button, and he straightened.
"That's a silent-alarm alert," he said. "Someone has just broken into the Museum of Chocolate over in the cultural district."
Vicki lifted her head.
"Talk about a great development!" she beamed, glad she had brought her camera.
"Talk about a rotten development…" Alvin muttered before he exhaled. "I don't suppose you'll be interested in taking a taxi home while I investigate this, perchance?"
Vicki playfully tightened her hold on him. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Alvin."
"That's what I thought."
He jerked the controls, changing course. Within ten minutes they came upon Apply Boulevard, and Alvin parked the hovercraft on the street near the many-column west entrance of the museum (which had been built and generously donated to Applyburg's cultural district by the city founder's collateral descendant, Abigail Apply). The street lights flickered on above their heads as Alvin switched off the vehicle.
"I don't know how long this will take," Alvin said, already unbuckling himself, "but stay with Lampy. He'll keep you safe."
He reached for his utility belt and pulled out what looked like a tiny walkie-talkie, which he passed to Vicki.
"If I need backup — if — then press the orange button. That will immediately put you in contact with Officer Scooter."
"Roger." Vicki nodded, gripping the device to help her keep her features composed. Although she had reasonable confidence that Alvin could take care of himself, the fact that he would take this precaution at all reminded her that he was still a mortal man, and she needed to rein in her enthusiasm for his sake.
Giving Vicki a last look — was it with concern or a warning or something else? — Alvin spun away and charged, half-doubled up, along the side of the museum, and he disappeared from sight.