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The morning sun peeked through the blinds at just the right angle to land perfectly on Robert’s eyelids. The slumbering man grumbled himself awake, upset that Mother Nature would dare wake him from one of the most peaceful nights of slumber that he had in ages.
Robert pulled a soft pillow over his head to block out the light, relishing how the cool fabric helped soothe the dull ache in his head. He felt the warmth of the duvet that smothered his body, the plushness of the mattress that seemed to engulf his entire frame in silky bliss, and in that moment he decided that whatever the day had in store for him could wait another 30 minutes.
Except he didn’t own a mattress.
He jerked himself upright in an instant, regretting it as a wave of nausea washed over his body.
He didn’t own a pillow for himself either. He didn’t own a blanket. The futon he was used to sleeping on wasn’t as soft as this.
He spun around, taking in his surroundings. This was not his room. This was not his apartment. These were not his walls. That was not his painting. That was not his nightstand in which his phone rested upon. That was not his alarm clock which read “9:34 AM”. That was not his vanity mirror, and that was not his wooden drawer in which the mirror was placed on. That fat little sausage of a chihuahua lying at his feet, scratching itself as it yawned, was not his–
No, that actually was his dog.
Robert wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead as he instinctively reached out to scratch Beef’s ears, the dog letting him know his approval with a happy yip.
What the hell happened last night?
The lyrics of “Once in A Lifetime” invaded his thoughts.
And you may ask yourself
"Well... how did I get here?"
And you may tell yourself
"This is not my beautiful house!"
And you may tell yourself
"This is not my beautiful wife-"
Robert shook those intrusive thoughts from his mind, annoyed that he could distract himself so easily. Feeling the numbness of his dry mouth, he concentrated on remembering what he had done to land himself in the luxury of a warm bed and furnished room.
“No, no. You don’t need to do this. I’m completely fiiine.”
“You can’t even walk straight, Robert. Come on.”
“No, seriously. All I need to do is get in an Uber, get back to my apartment, and pass out for a few days. Coming over to babysit me is totallyyy unnecessaryy.
Shit. Robert could hear his words slurring.
“Uh huh,” Mandy held him close to steady him, clearly not convinced. “And who’s gonna take care of you if you decide to vomit all over the floor?”
“I have Beef.”
“Having Beef lick up your puke isn’t my definition of taking care of you, Robert.”
Robert was sure he had a witty retort lined up, but whatever it was never came out of his mouth as his elbow accidentally nudged against the softness of Mandy’s chest and his mind went blank. Instead, he giggled stupidly as a grin broke across his face.
Mandy sighed. “I told you not to try to keep up with me, you idiot.”
“I'm not a bitch when it comes to -hurp- booze.”
“That doesn’t really work when your drinking partner needs to drink an entire bottle of vodka just to feel a buzz.”
They walked out of the bar and Robert felt the cool night air wash over his flushed face. He enjoyed the sensation as Mandy guided him away from the building and onto the sidewalk. The streetlamps around him were a blur, and he felt his legs wobbling beneath him.
He might have had a little too much to drink.
Mandy took his arm off her shoulder before grabbing him by the waist and pulling him close. “I’ve got a better idea than waiting for an Uber,” she smiled. “Easier if we fly.”
“Pffft. You used that one already. Get new material.”
“Don’t make me drop you.”
Before Robert could protest they were in the air. The streets and hills of LA turned into a blur as Mandy carried him through the sky. Surprisingly, he felt no nausea from the sudden flight. Rather, it felt as if he was weightless, like a feather riding the wind. He felt the cool wind blowing against his face and the warmth of her body through her suit.
He didn’t know how much time had passed before the two of them landed gently on a nicely trimmed lawn of a well-maintained courtyard. All around were expensive looking condos, each unit with their own matching set of doors and windows.
“This isn’t my apartment,” Robert said.
“Your apartment is depressing. We’re staying at my place tonight.”
“Is this the part where I start yelling that I’m being kidnapped?”
“I swear on my amulet that I’m not gonna touch you.”
“You already are touching me.”
“You know what I mean.”
“What about Beef?”
“Once I get you settled in I’ll fly over and bring him here as well. You still keep your balcony door unlocked, right? If not I’ll need to borrow your keys –”
Robert broke away, looking at her through the mask. “Mandy, Mandy, Mandyy… time out for a sec. I’ve never even been to your place before. Why are –hurp– why are you doing all this?”
“I just… wanted to take care of my boyfriend, that’s all.”
Robert stared at her with puppy dog eyes, his mouth agape. Mandy looked back apprehensively, unable to tell through those glassy eyes if he was taken aback by shock, confused, or had even registered what she just said.
“If you’re not uncomfortable with it, I’ll fly you back right now. No big deal. We can forget this ever happened –”
“You know what? Ffffuck it. I’m too drunk to take care of myself anyway.”
Robert stumbled over to the nearest door, turning the handle as if he was walking into his own apartment. The door didn’t open, much to his surprise and confusion. He jiggled the handle a little more to no avail.
“I need you to break this down for me. Lock’s broken or something.”
“Robert, that’s not my door.”
“…Ohh.”
Robert sighed, lying back down on the bed as Beef stood up to stretch.
Right. Mandy’s bed. Mandy’s pillows. Mandy’s room. Mandy’s place.
He continued lying there with his head resting on top of his arms, staring up at the ceiling, using the time to take in all the sights and smells of his new environment. The sheets were clean and silky. Her bedroom was filled with various personal items and keepsakes scattered around chaotically, yet somehow the room still felt tidy and organized. The pillows he laid on smelled vaguely of something feminine and sweet, rather than the scent of dust and motor oil that his nose had grown accustomed to.
Was it vanilla? Something floral? Cucumber melon? What is cucumber melon even supposed to smell like –
A different scent wafted through the room. Something savory. Mouthwatering. It reminded Robert how empty his stomach was. He could hear the faint sound of something sizzling from somewhere across the apartment.
Breakfast, he thought.
Apparently Beef had the same idea, as he began pawing at the closed door waiting to be let out.
Robert shuffled to his feet, dragging them across the carpeted floor as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The scent of whatever was being fried in the kitchen attracted him like a bee to nectar, and his nauseated body instinctively carried itself to the source.
There in the kitchen, the sight that greeted him was the best hangover cure he could ask for.
Mandy was standing at the stove, still in her pajamas, using tongs to turn over strips of bacon in one pan while eggs were frying in another. Her brunette hair was tied back in a loose bun that left a couple of strands hanging loosely. Sunlight seeped through the opened blinds of her windows and hit her hair in just the right way, turning those brunette strands into a soft, almost bronze color.
It was picturesque, like a canvas painting come to life. Robert would almost describe it as nostalgic, as if he’d ever been lucky enough to witness this scene in his life before.
She must have felt his eyes on her, because at that moment she turned her head to greet him with a soft, warm smile and those deep blue eyes of hers.
“You’re gonna catch a fly if you don’t pick your jaw off the floor,” Mandy sang in that sweet dulcet voice of hers.
There were a dozen different things Robert wanted to say to her at that moment. About how waking up to the sight of this already made his entire day. How there was no way he’d get tired of seeing her in that light. How there would be nothing better in life than to wake up to her cooking breakfast for him for the rest of his days.
Instead, he opted to go for the first thing that came to mind.
“Did I puke last night?”
Smooth, Robert. Smooth.
Mandy snorted. “Good morning to you too. And no, my apartment remains clean and puke-free,” she teased, setting the tongs down on the countertop.
She turned from the stove to walk over to where he was leaning on the counter and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “And before you ask – no, nothing happened between us last night either. Unfortunately…”
“So it was your intention all along to get me drunk, take me home, and get in my pants? I really need to be more careful around you,” he smiled. His morning voice was an octave lower than usual.
“How’s the hangover?” she playfully ran her fingers through his bed hair.
“Honestly, I’ve had worse. I guess all those crackers and water you forced down my throat before I passed out did help after all.”
“The crackers are free. The bacon and eggs I’m making, you’ll have to find a way to pay me back for.” The sidelong glance that she gave him before returning to the stove made his heart skip a beat.
“Oh, but in case you still need it, there should be some aspirin in the medicine cabinet.”
“Why do you even have aspirin in the first place?” Robert questioned as we went off to make himself decent. “When’s the last time you’ve ever had to deal with a hangover?”
“It’s for guests like you. Blonde Blazer always comes prepared,” Mandy called from across the room.
“Like how you were over an hour late to work that one time when Chase still had your amulet and you forgot you couldn’t just fly over?”
“That was one time!”
Robert popped an aspirin in his mouth, swallowing the pill dry.
He had just gotten out of Mandy’s shower smelling of the same sweet fragrance that he had caught a whiff of on her bed, and he would never let anyone know that he secretly liked smelling so delicate and frilly. A hot shower that kept its temperature and water pressure was a luxury he hadn’t known for years, and it had done wonders for his hangover.
Toweling off the remaining moisture in his hair, Robert stepped back out into the living room. Mandy had thought ahead to bring back a change of clothes along with Beef, which he was now wearing. Next to her couch, Beef was happily chomping away at a bowl of dog food.
The TV was turned on to some show Robert didn’t recognize. There, sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and resting on the coffee table was Mandy, picking away at her plate as she stared intently at the screen.
Robert had never spent a day at Mandy’s place before, and yet it still felt like home to him. Like he belonged. As if stepping out of the shower to the sight of her eating breakfast while watching TV was part of a familiar routine he’d been accustomed to.
“Whatcha watching?”
She turned back to look at him, grinning. “MasterChef. Your plate’s on the kitchen counter. I did my best to hold Beef back from stealing your food.”
Beef, now finished with his bowl, walked over to Mandy and looked up expectantly at her, hopeful for a piece of her bacon.
Robert gathered his plate and went back to sit down next to her. She nudged herself closer until their shoulders were almost touching. The gesture felt strangely normal, like they’ve been eating breakfast on the couch together their entire life.
“Did you know that there’s an Australian version of this show?” Mandy inquired. “And that one of the judges there is the same guy who trained the judge on the American version and made him cry?”
“I’m fascinated, but you might have forgotten that I have no idea what this show is about or who any of these people are,” Robert replied, covertly feeding a strip of bacon to Beef. “No TV, remember?”
“Mmm, we have some homework to do then. I can’t have my boyfriend living under a rock anymore.”
Boyfriend. He and Mandy had been going steady for a few months now but his heart still flutters a little every time he hears that word come out of her mouth.
“Don’t tell me you’re forcing me to binge watch another one of your shows again. I was practically dying by the third season of Love Island.”
“Trust me, you’ll love this one. You don’t know how cathartic it feels to yell at people on screen for messing up a dish while also knowing you’ll never be anywhere as good as them.”
Robert chuckled. “You can cook just fine. I’m eating the proof of it right now.”
“I know the basics, that’s all,” Mandy said, playfully poking Robert’s cheek with her fork. “I know this might come as a surprise to someone who somehow managed to burn grilled cheese, but my culinary skills really aren’t that special. You don’t get much time to learn how to cook when you’re juggling between being a superhero, corporate celebrity, and manager of an SDN branch.”
“I’d offer to be your housewife and prepare a hot meal every time you come home from work, but knowing me I’d probably burn your place down within a week.”
“And that’s why I hired you as a dispatcher and not a live-in maid.”
They laughed at each other’s dumb jokes. The food on their plate and TV droning on in the background seemed to have been forgotten as they enjoyed each other’s company on a Saturday morning when no one needed to worry about getting to work on time.
Before Robert had a chance to protest, Mandy takes his empty plate and heads over to the kitchen sink.
“Let me help–”
“You’re fine, Robert. I’ll take care of it. You just sit back and relax so you can sweat off whatever booze is left in your system.”
Robert opened his mouth to protest, but eventually decided against it. At this point he knew better than to argue with Mandy about sharing responsibility, especially when she was in the mood to pamper him like she is now.
Instead, Robert leaned back against the fabric cushion, stretching his arms over the backrest. Now alone, he took in the sights of his surroundings as the sounds of Gordon Ramsay yelling at some poor contestant perforated the room.
Every inch of Mandy’s home felt habituated, in stark contrast to Robert’s box of bare concrete and drywall. In the center of her hardwood floor was a gray-patterned carpet rug to provide warmth and softness to weary feet. The couch he was laying on was adorned with all kinds of pillows of various shapes and colors. Art pieces hung from the walls and potted plants sat on top of various piece of furniture. White blinds were left open to let natural sunlight penetrate the room all the way to the adjacent kitchen where Mandy was washing the dishes.
Stacked up against the wall was a bookshelf, its shelves filled with hardcovers, magazines, fiction novels, framed pictures, and potted plants alike. Among the knick knacks was a placard reading, “BLONDE BLAZER – HERO OF THE MONTH – DTLA”. It was no doubt a memento of her time working as an on-duty hero during her time at the DTLA branch, before she took over as Torrance’s branch manager. On top of the shelf was – an empty chinese takeout box?
Looking more closely, Robert noticed that Mandy’s home was not as clean and tidy as someone would expect from her.
Piles of empty Amazon boxes were stacked high in the corner, waiting to be disposed of.
Work reports lay scattered haphazardly across the coffee table, and a cold mug of tea that had been sitting there for who knows how long left cup stains on the documents it was resting on.
The carpet at his feet was dirty with breadcrumbs, and rolling back the coffee table a little bit revealed a few kernels of popcorn that had been kicked under it.
It must be one of the side effects of being an accomplished hero and successful career woman – that kind of lifestyle didn’t tend to leave a whole lot of time for housekeeping. Robert knew the feeling all too well.
He thought back to the words Mandy told him just a while earlier.
You don’t get much time to learn how to cook when you’re juggling between being a superhero, corporate celebrity, and manager of an SDN branch.
Robert wondered what percentage of her meals was takeout instead of home cooked. How late she could have arrived home during one of her frequent busy days. When was the last time she had a full day just for herself?
Mandy was doing all the work taking care of him, and it never occurred to him that she deserved to be taken care of as well.
He sprang up from the couch, taking the takeout container so he could dispose of it. Mandy noticed him as he dumped it in the bin.
“Uh, sorry,” she said sheepishly as she racked plates into the dishwasher. “I didn’t have a whole lot of time to clean the place up before taking you home.”
“It’s fine. I like helping my girlfriend out sometimes. Makes me feel useful,” Robert smiled.
Mandy looked away, the edges of her lips curling up just a little. Maybe she liked being called his girlfriend just as much as Robert liked being called her boyfriend.
“Where do you keep your vacuum? Your rug could use a little cleaning.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she replied apologetically. “I can do it myself. You don’t have to–”
“No, no, I’m putting my foot down. It’s the least I could do for the nice lady who kidnapped some sad drunk guy and gave him a warm bed and hot meal.”
Mandy stared at him with an almost anxious look across her face. “Storage closet, next to the bathroom. But really, this is totally unnecessary –”
“Ah, I see it. Don’t worry, I might not be good at this domestic stuff but I’m not dumb enough not to know how to work a vacuum.”
There in the hallway two identical sets of doors on either side of the corridor. Robert paused for a moment, not sure whether she meant to say it was the door adjacent to her bathroom, or the one opposite from it.
Mandy noticed his hesitation.
“O-On second thought, maybe you should just let me handle it–”
He hazarded a guess and chose a door at random.
“Wait! Robert–!”
The large room that lay before him was not a cramped storage closet of cleaning supplies.
The first thing that he noticed was the giant cardboard cut-out of Mecha Man Blue standing tall in the corner, nearly reaching the ceiling. It was posed in an action stance, as if guarding the room itself.
Displayed along beside it, on the far side of the room, was a massive glass display case stretching from wall to wall filled with a dizzying array of Mecha Man memorabilia and collectibles.
Action figures. Posters. Collector’s items. T-shirts. Too much for Robert to take in all at once.
The lone piece of furniture in the room was a single loveseat placed squarely in the middle, stuffed to the brim with various plushies of Mecha Man in both his mech suit and pilot suit form. And-
Is that a Mecha Man body pillow?
His observations were abruptly interrupted as the door in front of him slammed shut. Mandy stepped in between him and the doorway, arms outstretched to block any access, her wild eyes anxiously staring back.
“Forget everything you just saw!” The panic in her voice seeped through every word.
“Holy shit.”
“Promise me you didn’t see anything!”
“Mandy, you were a Mecha Man fangirl? You could have told me–”
“No! I mean, yes! I mean – that’s none of your business!” Her eyes were pleading for him to stop.
The nobler man in him told him to drop it. Take the high road. Give the nice lady her due privacy. It was the least he could do after she had spent so much effort bringing him back to her home and caring for him so diligently.
Robert did not choose to take the high road that day.
“Uh uh. Move over. I need to see everything.”
“Not on your life.”
"Come on, I promise you I won't judge. Too harshly."
He reached for the doorknob. Mandy slapped his hand away.
He feigned a retreat before going for it again, faster before Mandy could react. She gasped, realizing his hands were turning the handle, and pushed against him with all her body weight. Robert braced himself by grabbing onto the doorframe, determined not to be outdone by Blonde Blazer at her weakest and most vulnerable.
“What’s the big deal? Just let me see–!”
"Robert Robertson, I swear to god if you–!“
Mandy could feel him slowly overpowering her. Panicking, she kneed him in the groin. Hard.
Robert grunted and doubled over, taken over more by shock than pain. This was not the way he envisioned Mandy touching his jewels.
Realizing her mistake, Mandy reeled back to apologize. Robert, still pushing with all his strength, abruptly lurched forward right into her. She let out a surprised yelp as the door behind them suddenly swung open and the two crashed onto the floor.
Robert lied on top of her with his face inches away from hers, staring straight into those blue eyes which were rapidly dilating.
Beef paddled nonchalantly into the newly opened room, eager to explore the new scents. Mandy watched him walk past the two before slowly covering her reddening face with her palms.
…
…
"So… this must be like a dream come true for you, right? To have Mecha Man lying on top of you in the Mecha Man throne room–”
"I want to die. Please, just kill me already."
Robert laughed as he sat up, pushing himself off her. Mandy continued to lie there with her hands covering her face, as if she believed closing her eyes long enough would somehow make Robert disappear.
"Hey come on, mecha fan. Don't be embarrassed. This is fucking amazing."
He took her hands in his and slowly, gently, pried them away from her face, giving her plenty of space to pull back into her shell if she wanted. The sheepish expression that laid underneath was reminiscent of a shy and awkward teenager, not the confident and capable heroine that he always knew her as.
"Give me a tour please?" He asked, smiling gently. "I never paid much attention to my own merch."
He walked slowly around the room, taking in the sight of everything. Mandy, still blushing, walked two steps behind him, nervously running her fingers through her hair.
There were all sorts of merchandise, from cheap and accessible toys and action figures that line store shelves, to limited run figures and rare collectibles that Robert himself wouldn't be able to afford. Some of them even looked custom made.
On another wall, Mecha Man posters in professional looking frames dotted the space. Newspaper clippings documenting Mecha Man's heroic exploits were cut out and framed alongside the posters, some stretching years back to when Robert was first starting out.
“Mecha Man Holds His Own Against Freegoes Gang”
He remembered that one. It was a tough fight. One he was heavily outnumbered in, but still managed to protect the civilians and come out alive.
“Mecha Man Seen Limping Home Injured After Failing to Stop Store Robbery”
He… remembered that one too. Not his finest moment.
Alongside the articles were Mecha Man shirts with different cuts and designs, one of them being a peculiar Mecha Man-themed basketball jersey which existed despite Mandy knowing nothing about the sport and Mecha Man having never played a game in his life.
The opposite wall contained shelves adorned with yet more Mecha Man figurines, each posed in a different stance. Some of them had moveable joints, and Robert briefly imagined Mandy playing with them like dolls in her spare time.
On one corner stood a trophy stand holding a life-sized replica of Mecha Man Blue's helmet, recreated with such detail that Robert himself might have been convinced it was the real thing. He ran his hand across the visor expecting the feel of plastic, but instead felt cold metal and smooth glass.
This couldn’t have been cheap.
“So… How much was all of this? Some of these figures run for hundreds of bucks apiece.”
Robert stared at a set of glass display cases housing three different models of the Mecha Man suit. One for Prime, another for Astral, and the last for his own.
“… Too much…” Mandy managed to squeak out.
He eyed one of the figures. The detail and craftsmanship was remarkable. It was as if someone had shrunk his suit until it could fit in the palm of his hand. It even had the signature scorch marks and rust that had blemished his armor from when repair money was getting harder to come by.
“You could have covered my repair costs yourself if I had ever earned any royalties on this stuff…” Robert muttered, only half-joking.
“You… you never got paid for all this?” she asked.
“Not a penny.”
Mandy stared in disbelief.
“Yeah. Turns out companies really want you to reveal your secret identity and all that before they start making brand deals," Robert looked wistfully at the display in front of him. "Not happening.”
He turned back to look at Mandy, still shocked over the revelation. “Once all the brand deals with my dad ran out they just started running wild plastering my face on everything. Can't get sued for trademark infringement if there's no legal entity to be sued by, right?”
He eyed another figurine on a shelf, this one a model of himself in his tactical gear. It was way too muscular to even be close to resembling him. If anything it looked more like someone gave Rambo a jumpsuit.
“If I had known I wouldn’t have bought half of this stuff,” Mandy admitted. “I… I thought I was supporting you by buying your merch…”
When Robert had been going solo as Mecha Man he always tried to keep his financial situation under wraps, but in the later years before he joined SDN it had become especially bad. It didn’t take long before the public began to notice the half-assed suit repairs.
“So long have you been collecting?”
"A lot of this stuff I got before I became Blonde Blazer. I… had a lot of spare time when I was a kid."
"You were a fan since you were a kid?"
"Since I was 8. It started with Astral… But I didn't become truly obsessed until Mecha Man Blue started showing up when I was in high school."
"Really? How come I was your favorite? I sucked at being Mecha Man during my first few years."
Mandy crossed her arms, unable to look at him as she spoke.
"You were more… human. You didn't speak to the cameras like you were a professional hero with media training, you spoke to them like you were a sleep-deprived teenager who was tired of their stupid questions. You had a sense of humor. You stumbled over your words."
"I punched a reporter in the face."
"You punched a reporter in the face, yes. But he had it coming."
Mandy sighed as she threw herself down on the loveseat, absentmindedly cradling a Mecha Man plushie in her arms. Robert joined her, picking out a plushie of his own.
"Yeah, it might have taken you a few years to get good at piloting, but… that's what I liked about you,” she explained. “It showed me that there was an actual person underneath the armor – a man behind the mask. Somebody with none of the skill and bravado of Astral, but with twice as much heart."
“And you didn’t think I was lame when I could barely walk straight in the suit?”
"You never gave up, even during the early days when everybody was calling you a fraud and a disgrace. When everyone was telling you to quit playing hero and stop trashing the Mecha Man image.” There was a twinge of sadness in her voice, as if she was remembering a painful memory.
"Yeah, I remember those posts. Had to take a break from the internet for a while…"
“You just kept showing up to every store robbery, every mugging, dealing with all the petty stuff most big-name heroes wouldn't bother with. Every time you kept limping home from the fight until eventually you got good enough to stop getting hurt."
Robert looked away. His eyes landed on a mock movie poster of him looking up determinedly towards the sky while his suit rocketed away in the background. It was colorized in shades of red and blue, and a single word, “HOPE” was stenciled at the bottom in a bright, bold font.
"Eventually the same people calling you a fraud and disgrace were all of the sudden saying they were your number one fan and had always believed in you. And then… all the merch started rolling in," Mandy gestured vaguely at the room. “You earned your right to be a symbol of LA. I just wish it didn’t take so long for everyone else to recognize the good in you.”
Robert looked back and studied her closely. Her furrowed brows. Those downcast blue eyes that he loved to get lost in. The sheepish, pouting expression on her face, which made her all the more endearing. He imagined the same person, but younger, silently cheering him on while his younger self stumbled through the streets of LA, still trying to figure out how to move in the suit without crashing into a building.
This was the Mandy that he loved.
Mandy caught him staring. “You think I’m obsessed.”
“No. I’m just… surprised. Happy, even. That someone would care about me this much.”
“Lots of people care about Mecha Man. I’m not the only one. Just… one of the more fanatic ones.”
“No, honestly. I’m grateful that you cared when no one else did. I never realized I had someone like that supporting me. All this time I thought I was alone.”
Robert took her hand and began playing with it, rubbing her palm gently with his thumb.
“During my first few years there were so many times I wanted to quit. To just hang up the towel and live a normal life, finish college, and be done with playing hero. If I actually listened to myself after knowing you now… I’d never be able to forgive myself.”
He looked up at Mandy with a serious expression, grasping her hand tightly with both of his.
“So thank you, Mandy – for believing in me more than anyone else. For seeing me as a hero before the rest of the world did. For believing me even before I knew you existed.”
For the first time since entering the room, Robert saw a smile creeping up her face. It was that same soft, heartfelt smile that had greeted him in the kitchen this morning.
“Actually, there’s one more thing I wanted to show you,” Mandy said.
“Oh?”
She stood up and made her way towards the display case, opening one of the glass doors and pulling out a picture frame.
She went back to the loveseat where Robert was waiting, showing him the picture. It was of Mandy, in her teenage years, posing next to a cardboard cutout of his likeness at some sort of convention. She had an awkward smile and held up a peace sign as the cutout stared blankly ahead.
“I always wanted to meet you in person, but never got the chance to until that evening after the press conference. You never went to any of the conventions or fan meet-ups like other heroes do.”
Robert took the picture frame, staring at it intently.
"I was… busy,” he said. “Figuring out how to make it work. My life was in a weird place and going out to those events just didn't feel right. Like I didn’t deserve the fame and attention when all I did was inherit the suit and the name."
It was Mandy’s turn to cradle his hand. “You might have inherited the name… But the good you did for the city was all you. For what it’s worth… I’m really glad to have you in my life now. Not just as Mecha Man, but as Robert.”
There was the smile again.
Robert pulled her in a tight embrace, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Hearing that coming from you – and seeing your smile every morning – is the best morning cure I could ask for.”
“I’m glad I could soothe your ailment.”
They were happy to stay like this for as long as they needed, simply enjoying each other’s presence.
…
…
“So did you ever, like, pretend to make out with the body pillow?”
“Stop ruining the moment.”