Chapter Text
When Robert saw Flambae walk into the breakroom, he was prepared for a lot of things.
- One of his monthly punches to the face
- A taunt somehow involving “Mechabitch” and “soaking” and “loser”
- A grab at the one snack he had been eyeing, the LAST twinkie that Flambae KNEW he wanted because it was the only thing he eats on breaks. Half of the time Flambae doesn’t even eat them, just swipes and squishes them with an “oops” before leaving whilst cackling.
- Silence.
He wasn’t even remotely expecting a hello. Much less such a weirdly personal ask considering their relationship.
“I’m sorry, what?”
Flambae scoffs. “I said it clearly the first time.”
“Right, but I’m still…confused?” Robert paws at the back of this head, fingers flicking through his locks. “I don’t think someone’s asked me for this before. At least from what I remember.”
“Ok, the Mechabitch is too high and mighty to do these gigs.” Flambae said. Aren’t you supposed to be up for charity and helping kids and all that shit?”
Flambae did have a point. Robert was used to the lesser focused aspect of heroism that could be summed up as “being super for the kids”. The one that invokes autographs after being escorted out of burning buildings. “Losing” at arm wrestling contests with kids half his size while waiting for the police reports to finish. Striking flashy poses to nosy passersby while on patrol. Some may say it’s putting up a front (which, if Robert’s honest, it can be on certain days), but it’s needed to show kids that heroes are human as much as they are totally cool and totally strong.
That being said, despite Robert’s fair margin of popularity, those moments usually stopped at being short and sweet based on him still being a semi-unapproachable being that worked best at night. He sees his face on plenty of grocery store lunch boxes and action figures, so he knows that kids are a fan of him. But still, this was out of his zone.
“Hey, calm down. I didn’t even say no.”
“Well then are you doing it or not?” Flambae retorts. “You know, I don’t even know why I asked. I don’t need you for this.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really.”
“So what, you get some cardboard, do a hack of a paint job, and prance around yourself? Or were you thinking about getting someone else to do it?” Robert chuckles. “I wonder… I don’t think there’s any money in the world that’ll have Golem show up as me, espically if you are serious about the paint, and Prism’s holograms-
“It’s not like you’re that special Bob-Bob.” Flambae said. “I could get a broken toaster and some googly eyes and have it show up, and that’s basically you.” He makes a puppet with his hand before adopting a shrill voice. “Oh hi, it’s me Mechaman! I have no friends except my fat cow dog and I sleep on a chair! And I’m so ugly and sad! Power blast! Power blast!”
“Wowwww so creative. Makes me really feel appreciated as a potential performer. Really changes my ‘I’ll see what I can do’ around.”
Flambae puts the insulting puppet away, and instead makes two fists and puts them on the table. Almost like a surrender. He sighs.
“Look, you and I both know I wouldn’t have even come like this if I didn’t need this. This is like, way worse than having to wear those molds of fucking plastic shit at the dentist when getting my teeth replaced. But-” A pause. Robert notices the fists getting tighter, nails digging into Flambae’s palm.
“-This is the one thing Moska asked for. Not toys. Not video games. Not clothes, Just you. She saw us together on that news report and now she won’t stop asking if Mechaman can come to her birthday.” Flambae explains. “I didn’t even know she knew who your nobody self was. But now it’s ‘did you see him today’ and ‘what is he like’ and ‘does he know who I am?’ Like I would ever tell someone as cool as Moska about you.” He sighed. “However, I do want her to be happy, and she’s much more important than you. So, yeah I do need you to come. As my gift.”
Ok, that honestly doesn’t sound too bad. Since Robert used his barely recovered suit so heavily when LA went to shit and the Astral Pulse was just recovered, Royd was still in the process of absolutely perfecting it, so it’s not like it was taking it to work anytime soon. Basic maneuvering and maybe a piggy back or two were totally plausible.. He could text Royd in a few to make sure though.
“...You need me to show up cause your niece is a mega-fan?”
“Don’t you dare!” Flambae shouts while pointing an accusatory finger straight in Robert’s face. “This is a phase. She is not some stupid “mega-fan”. Once she sees how lame you really are she’ll go back to normal.”
“Ok, sure. You still need me to show up, suit and all, and show off for a bit? That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?” Robert said, smirking.
Flambae grimaced. “Don’t push it. Look, it’s pretty clear. Show up, do some power blasts, and then fly off and fuck off. I don’t care what-”
“No I got that,” Robert’s voice deepened. “I mean, what you said about needing me.” Robert almost laughed seeing the immediate reaction that came out of the former villain, his olive skin flushing from his neck up, and his eyebrows almost at risk of collision from the scrunching he was doing. Even with the sight of his familiar flames rising from his hands, Robert had to fight the urge to let a chuckle slip out from his lips.
“Whatever. Again, you suck. Are you doing this or not?”
“Sure. If you really need me so bad,” Robert replied, still showing off that smirk.
“Great. Fantastic. I’m leaving now. I’ll text you the details later,” And with that, Flambae beamed to the door, still aflame on his dual appendages.
“By the way-”
Flambae almost scorched the wall with the velocity he turned at.
“I don’t say ‘power blast’.”
Flame off, and eyebrows scrunching now in genuine puzzlement, Flambae responded. “You don’t?”
“No. I don’t think I name any of my moves, so don’t know where the fuck you got that from,” Robert said. “Espically something like power blast. I’m not a Power Ranger.”
“Well, you should really name your moves man. Maybe you would be less lame if you had some flair.” Flambae said.
“Noted. Still not using power blast.”