Moist had been away when everything went down. Last he'd checked in, Billy had been at the Laundromat. But his friend had learned his lesson, hadn't blogged the new plan- didn't even text his own henchman for the heads up.

Wolowitz had been catching up on his own work, head buried in NASA schematics and metric conversions. In the back of his brain, he'd wondered how he'd gotten to this place in life- doing stupid stuff like robbing banks and watching ground breaking original science with major real life implications. On the other, he was working with NASA, but still doing stupid stuff with the gang. The problem with them, though, was that they got so wrapped up in the theoretical that they got all snotty about the applicable. Okay, mostly Sheldon got that way, but the other two sometimes adopted his viewpoints.

He was going to resign as henchman.

This (he swore later) came about ten seconds before the newsfeed cut into a Star Trek rerun.

Dr. Horrible just took out the Hammer and Red Penny, fragments from the deathray flying everywhere.

Moist dropped his draft pencil, ghosted to the mini television, watching as the camera swung back to show Dr. Horrible slipping Red Penny onto a gurney. As he stood back up, his entire demeanor changed, posture straightening, his eyes hardening. No one else saw it, realized that Billy was slipping away, leaving only Dr. Horrible behind.

Wolowitz also checked out in that second- an extended two week vacation. Moist had to pick up the pieces, knowing that he had become a fugitive himself on some level. Before he could stop, could think, he was out of the lab, the hallway, the elevator, the building, the campus.

He blinked and found himself inside Billy's house. It looked ridiculous now- like a child's playroom, and suddenly he couldn't remember the appeal.

"Mr. Moist aka Howard Wolowitz?"

"GaH!!" Moist jumped as a man emerged from the lab. "Who are you?"

The man looked familiar, like he'd seen him before from a long time ago.

"Your representative, Moist aka Howard Wolowitz." The man in a suit and sunglasses smiled, trying to look reassuring, but somehow failing. "We have very important things to discuss and not a lot of time to do it."

"We do?" Moist's face dropped.

The other man's shoulders slumped aggressively. "I have been brought in from the East Coast to vet you personally. You should feel honored that I am here. Now, about your future."

"Who are you?"

The man grinned, "Heh, please. Now then, you got quite the promotion today. Henchman for the hottest up and coming supervillain. Your star is rising, my friend."

"Yes?"

"You just have to ask yourself one question."

"Yes?"

"Are you awesome enough for this job?"

"…"

"Of course, you can say no."

"I can?"

"Sure. Just…"

"What??"

"BT-dub, no one's said 'no' so far."

"Naaahhoooooooooo. Who are you again?"

"I am your liason between the ELE/HU consortium. I am here to represent you in any and all conflicts that should arise between you and Dr. Horrible." He answered, escorting Moist randomly around the house. "Ahh…" The man cocked his chin, "you guys are always so cute with your naiveté. Before my organization became involved, 80% of all new ELE level henchmen died their first year."

"What??"

"Bottom line: ELE henchmen upgrades, professional jealousy, or accidental decapitations. Supervillains want super henchmen. It's an ego thing. Collateral damage, if you will."

"Dr. Horrible wouldn't-"

"He just whacked the Hammer's girlfriend. A cute-sy, innocent, community building, volunteer at soup kitchens. Who are you again?"

Moist couldn't answer.

"Stay close to him for now. You'll receive a packet of information soon for your own possible upgrades, life insurance policies, and union dues." The man in the sunglasses grinned, all predatory with a hint of mischief, as the two walked out onto the front lawn. "And, for god sakes, uniform up."

It drove Moist nuts that he couldn't place the guy. After the past hour's horrible outcome, his biggest annoyance was some random guy's familiarity.

"We'll be in touch," the guy patted Moist's shoulder as a limo pulled up along the street.

"Allo!" The driver yelled from a rolling down tinted window.

"Ranjit!" the man smiled, way too happy to see a limo driver. "LAX," He ordered, climbing into the back. "We'll email you." He yelled out, shutting the door.

"Goodbye," the limo driver waved happily, driving off.