(AN: Hey folks! This is Commander speaking, a long time Pinky and the Brain fan. And my new set of P&TB DVDs has inspired me to write a one-shot… which is about twenty times more well-written than my earlier one here. (shudders)

The Brain is my favorite of the two, but I don't ignore Pinky, either. Actually, I find him to be a very interesting character as well. Calling him stupid misses the whole point—he's certainly not as smart as the Brain, but his mind's working. He understands more things than the Brain gives him credit for. The only thing is, he's exceedingly goofy. But he's by no means stupid. I hope that that shows through in my fanfic.

Pinky and the Brain doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Warner Brothers, I'm just a fan, please don't sue me, yadda yadda yadda…

And without further ado or disclaimers, here is the story! Enjoy and please review!)


Everybody has a time of day where they are at their top physical and mental state.

For the Brain, that special time of day was twilight. When the only light filtering through the lab's windows was sharp and red, in contrast with the quickly darkening sky, the Brain would always be found pacing his cage, muttering to himself, and, when genius struck, hurrying to his notebook and writing down equations, figures, or just general ideas about his newest plan.

The twilight wasn't having this effect on him tonight, however.

The Brain sat in the darkest corner of his cage, rubbing his abnormally large cranium and fixating his gaze on a rusty bar of his enclosure. The world domination plans of the past few nights—all failures, of course; if they had been successes the Brain certainly wouldn't be wasting his time here—had been long and time consuming, and the albino lab mouse doubted that he had gotten ten total hours of sleep in the past five days. He was feeling fatigued, and that was no surprise.

What was a surprise was that this fatigue was actually overruling the Brain's normal conquest desire. If he weren't so exhausted it would have actually shocked him. He couldn't really remember a time where ruling the world wasn't the first thing on his mind. But tonight, not only did he not have any ideas, he didn't care. He just wanted to curl up and sleep until next week.

"…And this concludes our broadcasting day…"

The Brain was jolted out of his half-sleep by that familiar phrase on the TV, with the national anthem playing and Pinky singing along with loud "la la las". Pinky's favorite TV show was over, and now he would come over and ask what the plan was for tonight. Yes, they were stuck in their little rituals. Like a record that kept skipping, the Brain thought dryly to himself.

"…la la laaaaaa… la laaa LAAAAA!" Pinky sang the last line of the Star Spangled Banner heartily, but with a bit less of his usual gusto. The lack of sleep was getting to the Brain's gangly companion as well. In fact, the Brain noticed that Pinky stifled a yawn before bounding over to him, his carefree expression still shining through as if permanently plastered on his face.

"Oh, I just love that song! Don't you, Brain?" Pinky asked, wiggling his ears for good measure.

"In small, quiet doses, yes, it is diverting," agreed the Brain, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to stay awake long enough to break the news to Pinky. Which wouldn't take very long, of course.

"So what's the plan tonight, Brain?" asked Pinky. "A giant hypnotic apple? Becoming the world leader of fingernail clippers and taking over the business world, and then the rest of the world? Scaring everybody into the streets by planting bloodthirsty termites in their floorboards?"

"None of the above," sighed the Brain.

"Alright, what is it then? Narf!"

"What is it indeed." The Brain picked up his notebook, closed it, and put it in the corner in which he had been sitting. "Our plan for tonight, Pinky, is to sleep, sleep, and sleep some more. Any questions?"

Pinky considered this. "Are we going to participate in shared dreams, which all the citizens of the world will—"

"No, Pinky," snapped the Brain. "We're not going to try to take over the world tonight. We're going to do what most people do at night—we're going to enter that state of unconsciousness known as the sleep cycle—and if all goes according to plan, we will not regain consciousness for a very long time."

Pinky's eyes grew wide. "You mean… no world domination plans?"

"No, Pinky. Not tonight. I have exhausted all feasible plans… and a few not so feasible," the Brain admitted. "If there are any plans still waiting to be discovered, I certainly cannot be expected to ponder them in my state of exhaustion." He stretched and curled up on the floor. "Perhaps an idea will come to me in a dream."

"But… but…" Pinky looked as if the Brain had just announced that their food rations had been suddenly cut off. "But what am I supposed to do?"

The Brain gave Pinky a sardonic stare. "You're as sleep deprived as I am, Pinky. You ought to consider catching up on your sleep as well."

"…okay…" Pinky still looked like he had been socked in the gut. "I'm not used to sleeping at night, though…"

Pinky sulked over to the opposite corner of the cage, kicking the bars angrily before laying down. The Brain sighed to himself. That was Pinky, alright…

angry that they weren't trying to take over the world?

No, that didn't compute. Being confused after having their usual schedule modified, yes. But downright angry? Why would Pinky be angry? He wasn't the one with the world domination dreams…

…or was he?

The idea would probably have hit the Brain like a ton of bricks had he not been so tired. Pinky, on the surface, gained absolutely nothing from assisting with the global conquest plans… why was he always so willing to help, then?

Did Pinky, in fact, want to rule the world as well, but being too stupid to come up with a plan of his own, simply latch on to his smarter companion's plans?

Did Pinky intend to overthrow the Brain and become the single supreme world leader should a plan ever succeed?

Was this why Pinky was so upset at the lack of a plan that night?

The Brain glanced at Pinky, curled up on the floor, still twitching in agitation.

"He wouldn't," he growled to himself.

Pinky spun his head around. "Did you say something, Brain?"

"Why are you so angry, Pinky?" asked the Brain, getting right to the point.

"Angry? Zort! I'm not angry!... Well, a little bit, maybe… perhaps a touch angry… Zounds, Brain, I'm angry because we're wasting a night! This could be the night we finally take over the world, and you just lost your will to do anything!"

"We," snapped the Brain, "the night we finally take over the world, or the night I do? Or the night you do?"

Pinky smiled. "Say, Brain, now you're the angry one!"

The Brain suddenly, forcibly, grabbed Pinky around the neck. "Why is it that you're so preoccupied with taking over the world?" he growled.

Pinky choked, hardly able to talk. "Ack… Brain…"

"Do you intend to make me do all the hard work, and then once we've finally succeeded, to usurp power from me? Is that it?" the Brain hollered.

"…ak… Brain… you're hurting me!" Pinky managed to gasp.

The Brain abruptly let Pinky go, gulping in shock at himself. Whatever Pinky's reasons were for wanting to take over the world, the Brain did have to admit that Pinky's help and contributions were helpful just as many times, if not more, than they were detrimental. True, Pinky had fouled up many a plan… but, in retrospect, many of the plans would not have gotten as far as they had without Pinky's assistance.

Pinky sat on the ground, gasping for breath, his eyes wide with shock and fear. "Troz, Brain, I don't want to take your power! I just want to help you!"

The Brain wrung his hands, trying to forget his most recent violent outburst. "That still doesn't answer my first question, Pinky," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "Why are you so angry that we aren't trying to take over the world tonight?"

Pinky drew in his breath with an "oooh" sound. "Ooooh, Brain, do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad at you at all! I'm more mad at the fact that all the failures have discouraged you to the point that you don't even want to try anymore! I know how important taking over the world is to you, and when you don't even want to do that… zounds, Brain, that's a bad thing, isn't it? It's like you've lost the will to live!"

"I haven't, Pinky, I'm just tired," said the Brain, surprised at what he was hearing. "But Pinky…"

"Yes, Brain?"

"To paraphrase what you just said, the only reason that you help me in my world domination schemes and are upset when we don't attempt same is simply because I want to?"

Pinky pondered that for a moment. "Um, yep, that sounds about right. Narf!"

The Brain was incredulous. "But… what about what you want to do?"

It was a valid question, the Brain realized. If Pinky were left to his own devises, without any idea of world domination, how would he spend his time? It definitely wouldn't be global conquest, but Pinky was genetically altered, and thus he also certainly wouldn't spend his time scratching behind his ears and running in the exercise wheel.

Pinky just smiled and shrugged. "Gosh, Brain, I already told you. I want to help you take over the world!"

The Brain turned around, away from Pinky. "Pinky, you are without a doubt the most foolish, imbecilic mouse I have ever met."

He faced Pinky again, who was staring at him with large, sad eyes. "And," the Brain continued, "you are also the best friend I could ever ask for."

The corners of Pinky's mouth slowly pulled upwards in a smile. "Egad, Brain, do you really mean that?"

"Yes, but I fear that I have not returned the favor," admitted the Brain. "Now, Pinky, pretend that you had never met me."

"Ooh, what a scary thought!" said Pinky, shuddering. "Then I'd sleep every night and spend all my time scratching myself behind the ears and running around in that exercise wheel!"

"No hopes and desires for yourself at all?" prodded the Brain.

"Well…" Pinky's voice trailed off.

"Well what?"

"I've always wanted to learn ballet!" Pinky finally blurted out.

The Brain raised an eyebrow. "Ballet," he said, as if clarifying.

"Uh huh." Pinky nodded vigorously. "I've always found it oh so spiritually uplifting and fascinating! Of course, trying to take over the world takes up most of my time, so I haven't really been able to fully devote myself, and my forms could really use some work—"

"I'll make you a deal, Pinky," said the Brain, cutting him off. "If I should ever rule the world, the first thing I will do is get the top ballet instructors in the world to give you private lessons."

"Zounds, Brain!" cried Pinky. "Do you know how hard it is to get a lesson with people of that talent?"

The Brain shrugged smugly. "I am aware that, under normal circumstances, securing a lesson with a professional would be difficult. But as world leader, my authority would be above theirs."

"Egad… you'd really do that just for me?"

"Of course. I owe you far more than that for all the help you've given me."

"Oh Brain!" Pinky gave the Brain a sudden, tight hug. The Brain fought for breath. "Thank you so much! Now I'm twice as anxious for you to take over the world!"

The Brain finally managed to squeeze out of Pinky's grasp. "Well then, I suggest you get a good night's sleep tonight. We both need our rest for tomorrow night."

"Why, Brain?" asked Pinky, scratching his head. "What are we going to do tomorrow night?"

"The same thing we do almost every night," said the Brain. "Try to take over the world!"