Don't you hate it when just one headphone goes dead? I find that so agitating. But in the case of this fic, it seemed that while writing The Amnesia Machine (namedrop!), the humorous side of my brain seemed to just quit. It was awful, really, but I'm sure that's happened to everyone, at some point or other. Some Fantastic is a bunch of meaningless oneshots written with the intent to entertain and revive my own humor. So please, don't take them too terribly seriously, and just enjoy. ^ ^
*Fringe was written to entertain, too. Only better, and not mine.
One: Maternal Instinct
She wasn't dead, and she hadn't grown a third eye. He guessed that all was well, as far as well went. As he did every morning, he felt slightly disappointed. But Walter decided to ask anyways.
"How are you feeling this morning, miss Astatine?" he asked politely, listening very intently to her response.
"Swing and a miss. I'm fine, Walter, how are you?" Astrid did not look up from her laptop screen as she continued to type away on her report.
"Good, good. Are you certain you're well? You've experienced nothing out of the ordinary at all? No sort of illness, vertigo?"
"No," Astrid answered, looking up at him suspiciously, "What are you getting at, Walter?"
Walter looked thoughtful for a few moments, rubbing his chin with his fingertips, "Hmm. It's nothing, really," he turned away, then paused, "…Perhaps a superfluous appendage? Have you checked at all?"
"Walter, what did you do?!" Astrid cried, gaping at him in horror.
"Nothing, obviously. You're fine."
"You're asking if I've grown extra limbs!" Astrid shut the laptop, standing, "what did you do?!"
"I just wanted to see how you were doing, honest," Walter said with a smile, raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck, mumbling and trailing away "…and see if perhaps…the eggs had, um… haaaaatched…"
"Eggs?! What eggs?!" Astrid demanded shrilly, beginning to pat herself in search of growths.
"It doesn't matter, your fine. In fact, you're glowing!" Walter laughed uneasily, "Look at you. You go, or, um, whatever. By the by, completely unrelated, but… are you up for a blood test, today?"
"You're messing with me," Astrid said after a pause, "Ha ha, very funny." she dropped back down in her seat, glaring at the laptop screen as she opened it and reached for her coffee, and raised it to her lips.
She looked up at Walter, who watched her set down the cup, "What?" Astrid snapped, following his stare to the cup, "Oh Jesus- you put it in my coffee?!"
"I'm thinking the heat may have killed the poor things before you could ingest them. And the caffeine my have affected their systems."
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" Astrid cried, grabbing up the cup and rushing for the sink.
"You're not mad, are you?" Walter asked, following after her, "You would have made a wonderful mother, miss Asterixis!"
"I think I'm going to throw up!" Astrid said, covering her mouth and shutting her eyes to keep from getting sick.
"Morning sickness? That's wonderful news! They may be incubating despite my errors!" Walter exclaimed, excited.
"Will you shut up?!" Astrid said, "I am not pregnant, okay?!"
"It's alright, my dear," Walter assured her gently, patting her shoulders, "Being a mother is wonderful, once you get used to it. And I'm with you- we'll raise our abnormal children together. Provided I can find a way to extract them without… but don't you worry about that! You just sit yourself down and take it easy, alright?"
"Tell me you're kidding, Walter," Astrid croaked, her face ashen.
Walter dropped his gaze with a sigh, and looked back up at her with a small smile, "When do you want your shower? I would suggest soon, I don't know the exact incubation time. Cigars! I have to go out and get cigars…" he shuffled away, exclaiming to himself happily.
Astrid stabled herself against the steel rim of the sink, swooning.
"Hey, are you okay?" Peter asked the next morning, as he stopped Astrid in her routine with a hand on her shoulder, "You haven't been looking well."
"I'm fine," Astrid lied, "I just… I haven't felt myself, lately."
Peter looked into her face, concerned, "I never thought I'd say this, but… you might want to have Walter take a look at you."
"Peter, he's the last one I want to deal with, right now," Astrid grumbled.
"He's the last person anyone wants to deal with," Peter agreed, "But, as I see your resentment has reached a substantially higher level, I have to ask- what's up?"
Astrid sighed, "Peter… you wouldn't happen to have seen Walter putting anything into my coffee, for the last few days, have you?"
Peter froze. He swallowed, "Excuse me for a second…" and he turned, headed into the office. Moments later, there was the sound of muffled yelling, and the sharp snap of a rolled magazine. Walter emerged from the office, nursing the bruise on his forehead and sneaking daggers back at his son, "apologize right now," Peter growled, tightening the National Geographic in his hands.
Walter sighed, rolling his eyes, "Fine. I'm sorry, miss Astilbe."
"Tell her why," Peter pressed, as Astrid only stared.
"I'm sorry I impregnated you without your prior consent or knowledge-" he yelped as Peter struck him across the back of the head swiftly, "Alright! It was only a joke, okay?! I didn't infect you with parasitic organism eggs. I just thought it would be funny if you-"
"It wasn't funny," Peter reprimanded, "He's been doing it to all of us all week. He had me convinced that I had somehow gained him grandchildren from his bioengineered jelly beans. Sorry, Astrid."
"So… I'm not… pregnant, or anything?" Astrid questioned.
Peter glared at Walter, "No," Walter admitted grudgingly, "and I'm sorry I tried to fool you. I won't do it again, I promise." There was silence. Walter had to stop a giggle, "It was pretty funny though, wasn't it?" And Peter struck him on the shoulder.
Astrid had to laugh, completely lost.
Later, Peter spoke to his father lowly, "You've gone and fixed it, right?"
"I put the parasite's terminal drugs into her coffee this morning. She should feel a bit forgetful for the next few days, until it all passes from her system. You spoil everything, Peter."