Futurama

Fan Fiction

Beneath A Chrome Sky
By Corvus

Authors note: There are a couple of things in this fic that I've borrowed from Archonix's fic Parallel Lives (A Road Not Taken). I have asked and received his permission for that. Also a quick thank-you to soylentOrange for his proof reading.

~Corvus


It was a beautiful and warm summer day in New New York. Fry had arrived at Planet Express at his usual time- around noon, after which he had begun his usual chore- slacking off with Bender while Leela worked with Amy on the ship. Just a normal day for him. About an hour after his arrival- during which time he’d managed to consume five cups of coffee and a large amount of Slurm in front of the TV, he and his coworkers had been called to the conference table.

Seated there, Fry and Bender were exchanging rather immature jokes, while Leela did her best to try and ignore them. With her head resting in her hand and arm supported by the table, she wore a bored expression, outwardly indifferent to what her two co-workers were saying. On the inside she was trying to stop herself from chewing her arm off and then using it to beat them senseless, or Bender at the least, whom always seemed to bring out the worst in Fry. The delivery boy could be a sweet, caring guy when he wanted to, but all too often he was childish, rash and irresponsible.

The Martian intern, Amy Wong, made herself busy with make-up. The dainty, pink pillbox and utilities that she moved over her face were the latest line from Max Warp Factor. She had been given a free sample that same morning when browsing through the nearby Overlord and Taylor store on her way to Planet Express. "A pretty gift for a pretty girl" the sales woman had said, and who was Amy to deny that?

Seated next to the Asian girl was Hermes. The Rastafarian bureaucrat was quietly working away on a rather large pile of forms. It was hard work keeping up with the paperwork that his obstructive employees generated- any other sane man would have given up long a go- but Hermes wasn't sane; he was a bureaucrat. His red-tape-induced bliss was soon disrupted by a gnawing sound. Seated to his right was the Decapodian Zoidberg, M.D. and specialist in human medicine- or, at least, he claimed to be a specialist- which didn't seem entirely true, something that Fry had experienced firsthand. Zoidberg had, in his peckish state, started to nibble at the table edge.

"Stop dat, you filthy crab! Any damage to da table comes out of ya pay!" Hermes shouted at the Decapodian and slapped him over his head with a rolled-up copy of the Fence Street Journal.

"But the new table finish tastes good it does!" Zoidberg whimpered and looked at Hermes with puppy eyes.

"I didn't have it re-painted for ya to eat it ya crustacean buffoon!" Hermes replied angrily, un-swayed by Zoidberg’s pleading expression, and gave him yet another swat of the newspaper.

The activities of the assembled group ceased abruptly at the utterance of the words that they had long since learned to dread. Or, at least, Fry, Leela and Bender had; they were the ones who usually ended up suffering as an effect of those three words.

"Good news everyone!"

They all came from Farnsworth, inventor, professor, CEO of the Planet Express Delivery Company, and federally certified madman. He had shuffled in through the nearby door with a box in his hands. It was a fairly rectangular state of affairs with a blue colored piece of cloth over it, obscuring it.

"So what are we delivering this time?" Fry asked and tried to peer under the cloth with no success. Pressing his left cheek firmly against the table and squinting his eyes did nothing to improve his chances.

"Oh my no, this is not a delivery. It's an invention of mine. It will revolutionize the world! Ahahahahahaha!" The semi-senile old man cackled, hands in the air, mimicking the shape of claws.

"Oh yeah? Looks like a boring box to me. Unless there is booze, cigars or porn in there, I'm not interested." Bender stated and looked with disinterest at the shrouded box. "Wake me when it gets interesting." were his final words before entering his sleep state. The protective shield slid down and covered his eyes.

"Is there food inside? Delicious, succulent food?" Zoidberg asked with hunger and desire in his voice, while a trail of spittle escaped one of his face tentacles and landed on the table.

Before the Professor was able to answer, there was a gentle rustle accompanied by a quiet mechanical rattle from under the blue cloth. With surprising speed, Fry leapt from his face-against-the-table position and dove behind Leela’s seat. In relative safety, he peeked over her shoulder, fearful for whatever futuristic nightmare that would emerge and promise, if not death, possibly severe bodily harm, or, at the very least, the notion of running and screaming. And Fry didn't like any of those, especially not the running and screaming. Hugging Leela’s chair, his face close to the chair edge and Leela’s neck, he couldn't help but notice that Leela smelled... interesting, and, for a moment, Fry forgot everything about cloth covered boxes and the potential horrors hidden therein.

Ignoring the distressed delivery boy, the cyclops addressed what everyone around the table was considering. "Is it safe, Professor? She asked, with a slight hint of alarm in her voice. Leela's concern was not unfounded; past experience has proven such fears not without merit, as the Professor had constructed many a dangerous invention before. Inventions which had brought much trouble for the female space captain, she still remembered the time when they had been tasked with transporting the professor’s doomsday devices to a secure location.

"Oh fuff, there is nothing dangerous about it." The scientist replied with a dismissive wave of his hands. "The content inside, however, is a different matter." He concluded and adjusted his radiation-grade glasses slightly.

"But what is it, then?" The purple-haired cyclops pressed on, knowing it was never a good thing to ignore what came from the slightly-insane mind of the Professor.

"Oh, it's just a simple experiment of mine, something I've given much time and consideration, as well as ample doses of radiation. I'm sure it will win me the Nobel Prize. Behold the mobile-toast-a-tron!" Farnsworth dramatically pulled the blue cloth from the box, revealing that it was in fact a square shaped cage with a normal looking toaster inside. An old fashioned toaster made from blank polished chrome and black Bakelite, it had two slots and a lever from which the quiet mechanical rattling emanated. A pretty normal looking thing, apart from the fact that it sported two rather large, white wings on both sides and that it was lying in a little nest of straw.

Fry stepped out from behind Leela, his fears forgotten, and stared, flabbergasted by the winged toaster.

"Uhh.. what does it do?" He asked curiously, not really knowing what to make of it. For all his time in the future, there were still things that managed to amaze him. A couple of days ago he’d found a Slurm fountain that spurted cans of Slurm. Unfortunately for Fry, when he had tried to catch one he had fallen in and been rather brutally pelted by cans, an action that had won him a ride to the emergency room as well as the usual scolding from Leela. "What were you thinking?!" and "Irresponsible childishness!" were just a couple of things she had yelled at him as the Doctor Bot 3000 had worked on him.

Leela interjected with a tired voice. "It's a toaster Fry, it toasts bread. Didn't you have toasters in the 20thcentury?"

"Sure we did, but they didn't have wings!" Fry protested, somewhat offended.

"Now, now, there is plenty of time to yell at Fry's ignorance later." Farnsworth opened the top of the cage and picked up the toaster. It rustled its feathers a bit and the lever moved nervously up and down in a staccato movement.

He placed it on the table, held it in place with one hand, and picked up a couple of bread slices from his lab coat. With a short movement, he placed two bread slices in the slots and removed his hold of it.

At first the winged toaster did nothing. The lever shifted slightly before it rammed down the lever with a firm metallic thump and started to toast the bread. What came next was a surprise for the assembled group, save for Farnsworth, who knew what to expect from his invention. The toaster unfurled its broad wings and went airborne. The oversized wings lifted the bread-scorching chrome box up and towards the PE ship with a couple of powerful flaps.

Trailing a tiny wisp of smoke, the toaster swept through the hangar area. Upon reaching the far wall it dipped its left wing and made a steep u-turn back towards the conference table. Having gained quite an altitude, cruising steadily just underneath the armored hangar bay doors, it folded its wings close to its blank, polished body and dipped its nose towards the area where the stunned planet express crew was standing, diving towards them at an alarming speed. The group scattered to avoid the sudden air assault and, just as the toaster passed over the table, it made a smooth barrel roll, ejecting the now perfectly toasted slices of bread and sending them flying in a low trajectory over the conferance table and adjoining chairs.

One hit Fry square in the neck just as he was fleeing, sending him sprawling to the floor with a surprised scream. "I'm hit! Help me, Leela!" The other bounced off Benders head, stirring the bending bot from his idle state. "Hey! Who's throwing stale bread here?! Are you guys feeding Zoidberg again?" He demanded to know, irritated to be awoken from his favorite dream where he and a hookerbot 5000 were killing all humans.

The toaster made another steep u-turn, mere inches from crashing into the small kitchen area. Another set of strong wing flaps sent it towards Fry, and with an elegant movement it swooped in over him and settled neatly on his head. The smell of warm toast permeated the air as it nestled into Fry's thick, red hair, making itself comfortable. The delivery boy lay perfectly still on the floor. His eyes rolled back in his head trying to see what the winged toaster was doing. "Leeeeeela." Fry moaned in a fretful voice, his mind conjuring up yet another set of horrible things that the toaster was about to do to him.

Leela stifled a laugh with her left hand; Fry was lying on his knees with his butt up in the air, his chest pressed against the floor and his arms pointing straight-out with the toaster firmly planted on his head. It just looked too silly to be taken seriously, though she realized that the delivery boy’s screams would probably just get louder if she didn't do anything. Swallowing her laughter, she moved to help him. With a start, she realized that she found herself thinking that Fry looked rather cute in his current predicament. Her minds defenses, ever vigilant while her conscious mind was active, immediately crushed the thought. There could be no tenderness in public, where the world might see.

She walked over to Fry and gently removed the toaster. It protested at being removed from its comfortable resting place by flapping its wings a couple of times while maneuvering the lever nervously up and down. Leela calmed it down by gently stroking its wings and speaking to it in a gentle and hushed tone. "There... there... nothing to be afraid of."

"Can- can I move now?" Fry asked cautiously from the floor. "Not yet." Bender replied, before opening his chest door and fished out a small camera from his compartment. "Neat." He sniggered and took several pictures of Fry's predicament. Such pictures where always ripe for abuse of the blackmail variety. Bender was sure he could squeeze at least a couple of month’s worth of salary from his human pet in exchange for these pictures.

"Okay, you're clear or something." Bender said indifferently, just after putting away his camera and lighting another cigar. Fry stood up and brushed dust and breadcrumbs off his jacket. He glared over at Leela where she stood with the toaster in her arms while Amy, Hermes, Zoidberg and the Professor gathered in a circle around her, discussing the toaster and praising Leela for her actions. Bender soon joined the admiring group.

"Stupid flying toaster." Fry muttered as he tried to attract attention by looking angry and sullen. No-one paid any attention to the annoyed delivery boy. He stood alone for a couple of seconds, uncertain as to what to do. Eventually he gave up, and, with a resentful sigh, he walked over to the group.

"Those’re some mighty fine feathers." Hermes commented and gently stroked the still sizzling toaster’s wings.

"How do you build them?" Fry interjected, trying to be part of the moment. His co-workers grew silent and stared at him. The redhead looked at each and every one.

"What? What did I say?" He asked a bit wearily, worried that he yet again had said something stupid that he would be mocked for.

"That was a remarkably good question, Fry." The Professor said. "But I don't build them."

The delivery boy looked perplexed. "You don't?!"

"No, I breed them." The Professor said with pride in his voice.

"Ai-yaa, how do you do that?" interjected Amy. She was, after all, an engineering student, and had been wondering just how the Professor had managed to pair a mechanical piece of equipment with what looked like biological wings.

Bender saw fit to answer the intern. "Don't act so surprised Amy, you should know everything about mating!"

"Shut it you kai dei!" was her angered response. The Martian girl glared at Bender with her fists clenched. Fry couldn't help but feel that she looked kinda cute when she was angry.

Farnsworth continued. "It's quite simple. I put one male and one female into one cage, put a cloth over it, and after a mere couple of minutes there are three of them. If I keep them longer, say five minutes, there are four."

"Didn't you have to actually make two of them before you let them breed?" This time it was Leela who asked, loving anything that was- or at least resembled- small animals, she had been a bit preoccupied with the toaster in her arms, but now her attention was on how they had been constructed in the first place.

Confusion stained with senility draped itself over Professor Farnsworth’s face. "Eh.. wha? Two what now?"

"And if this one was bred, then where are the other two?" Amy yet again interjected, piling on the stack of unanswered questions relating the avian toaster.

"In my lab of course, both safely tucked away in the same cage. The tone from the scientist and owner of Planet Express was reassuring and calm, giving no indication that he himself understood the ramifications of what he just had said.

There was a dead silence in the group as the gravity of what the Professor had said sank in. They stared at one another in disbelief before they launched towards the lab. Leela stuck the toaster back into the cage and closed the lid without missing a beat.

Upon reaching the Professor’s lab they stopped in the doorway one by one, and took in the scene. There were toasters everywhere; every open surface was occupied by chrome, Bakelite, and white wings. They were perched precariously on cluttered shelves, half-finished inventions, tables, chairs… Even the floor was cluttered by the flying toasters. It was hard to see where the furniture and assorted jumble of the lab began and the mass of toasters ended. Almost hidden from view was the cage where the original two had been held. Or at least, what remained of it. Torn apart by the ever-increasing number of multiplying toasters, it had not been able to contain the expanding mass.

On closer scrutiny, it was evident that they sat in pairs; a normal looking toaster with an identical, albeit smaller, more curvaceous one beside it. It didn't take an ornithologist to guess that the normal one was a male and the smaller was female.

"Oh my!" The Professor gasped in a hushed voice upon seeing what had happened in his laboratory.

"What should we do?" Leela whispered, guessing that there was a reason for the Professor to be speaking in a soft tone, and that the reason was not to disturb the resting toasters.

"There is no cause for alarm as long as we stay quiet and make no sudden moves. I have a plan for just such a contingency. As long as we can keep them here we..." Farnsworth’s exposition was cut short by the timely arrival of Fry. Not the pinnacle of physical fitness, the soon-out-of-wind delivery boy had been left behind by everyone- even Farnsworth. The reason for it was simple, Fry's stomach had seen fit to protest against his sudden fancy for physical activity, and thus the redhead had had to make a detour to the nearest toilet, where he had violently emptied his stomach contents.

One empty stomach later and a bit queasy, he had resumed his run towards the laboratory, where he had arrived just as the Professor had begun detailing the best course of action in dealing with the mess in the lab. As everyone was already standing in the doorway, Fry had no means of seeing what was transpiring. After a couple of futile attempts at jumping up to see over the heads of his co-workers he gave up and opted to vent his frustration vocally... And loudly. "What's going on? I can't see!"

For a split second there was absolute silence. Then, with a roar, there was a flurry of wings and chrome, all streaming from the laboratory. The mass of flying toasters threatened to engulf the assembled group of Planet Express workers. Just as suddenly as they had appeared, the toasters were gone, leaving a slightly dazed and confused bunch of humans, a Decapodian, and a mutant sprawled on the floor and against walls in their wake, all of them draped in the occasional white feather.

Sitting slumped on floor just beside the entrance to the lab, Farnsworth adjusted his glasses, which were just about to slide off his face. "Oh dear, you all know what this means..."

"Here we go again." Bender said while picking himself of the floor.

"You have to catch them- every one of them- before they multiply again and again and escape out and take over the world." Speaking the final words, the Professors face had begun to creep up into what promised to be his mad scientist smile, eyes flaring as his mind was set ablaze by the very idea that his creations were about to take over the world.

Bender stared at the almost-drooling old man. "Thank you and good night."

"How do we catch them?" Leela, the ever practical one, asked while pulling Fry from the floor by his pants. Fry in turn let out a slight yelp as Leela’s hands slipped, and, instead of grabbing Fry by his belt, she got hold of his jeans so that, when she pulled, his pants grew tight in a sensitive area.

"Sorry, Fry." Leela offered, somewhat absentmindedly as she tried to concentrate on what the Professor was saying. Fry wasn't saying anything; he was busy biting his lower lip against the pain.

"Oh, you need butterfly nets for that.” The Professor said in response to Leela’s question. I happen to have three in my laboratory, for emergencies just like this. You'll find them beside the tranquilizer and taser locker."

It didn't take long for the cyclops to find the nets, despite the chaos in the laboratory that the flying toasters, in their spooked state, had left in their wake. Broken glass and other semi-destroyed equipment crackled and broke under her boots as she moved swiftly in and out of the lab.

"Here." Leela said and pushed one net into Benders hands and the other into Fry's. The delivery boy had some trouble holding the handle of the net, as he was still busy comforting his mistreated manly parts with his hands. Bender looked with disgust at the net. "Do I look like a Jeff Corwin bot 6000? I don't DO wild animals. It's a union thing; they have ties with the robot mafia and you don't want to mess with those guys!"

Her brow furrowed and eye half closed, Leela said nothing, but gave the bending bot a cold stare. She had heard that weak excuse before and she was in no mood for Bender’s shenanigans. There were poor toaster animals to be saved. If they managed to escape they would be hunted, and Leela, who cared greatly for all animals, didn't want that.

As she had predicted, Bender crumbled under her hard stare. There was the promise of violence in her eye, and the bending bot knew all about that. "Oh, fine. I'll go on your stupid toaster hunt."

"Good, now quit groping yourself Fry, and come on." Leela said, grabbing Fry by his arm and pulled the pain-filled delivery boy with her down the hallway, with a reluctant Bender in tow.

Alone, about ten minutes later, Fry snuck down a corridor. The plan that Leela had decided on was simple, they would individually search Planet Express and capture the toasters one by one. Fry had been given the task of searching the lower floors. Soon after they had split up, Fry had caught sight of two toasters. Following them, he had spotted them sitting idly on the floor in the very corridor he was in. One was male and the other female.

Trying to breathe as little as possible, he moved slowly towards them with the net ready. When he felt that he was close enough, Fry burst into action and charged them, slamming the net down. Unfortunately, his hasty maneuver only served to spook them, and the two toasters managed to lift off from the floor before Fry could put the net over the spot where they had rested.

The smaller female escaped down the corridor while the larger male flew through an open doorway just beside where they had been. Cursing under his breath, Fry opted to follow the male. Upon entering the room, he realized that it was the storage room in which they kept the strange boxes that connected to other universes. Someone had carelessly left the door open. He hesitated on the doorstep; he didn't really want to go inside. The boxes and what they held frightened the delivery boy, yet he had to capture the toaster. Leela would be mad if he missed it, so Fry swallowed his fear and followed the avian toaster inside.

Walking slowly down the narrow corridors, flanked by long, ceiling high shelves where sat row upon row of boxes, Fry held the net at the ready, his head shifting back and forth, nervously looking for the stray toaster. A sudden rustle alerted him to the whereabouts of his prey. It sat on top of a box on the top row of a nearby shelf.

Just as Fry was about to swing his net towards it, it took off, and, as it did, it knocked the box which it had been sitting on over, sending it tumbling down. By chance or by the grace of an unknown force, the box landed upright on the floor minus the lid. Desperate to capture the rogue toaster, Fry frantically waved the butterfly net in the air.

The toaster weaved and dodged the net. How long this could have gone on is anyone’s guess, but it was the toaster in the end that settled it by simply diving straight into the dimensional box and disappearing into a universe unknown.

Fry stood and stared at the open box. Leela's going to kill me. He thought with rising anxiety. He shot a guilty glance at the door, expecting the purple-haired space captain to enter at any second, ready to berate him for his failure. Leela always yelled at him for missing minute details. Letting a toaster get away would probably earn him a full blown eruption from the cylops. Half a minute idled by as the delivery boy stood still and listened for the approaching sound of Leela’s boots to herald her immediate arrival.

As nothing happened, an idea started to form in his head like a tiny voice, whispering a suggestion to him. Maybe, just maybe, he could get away with it. Quickly he put the discarded lid back on the box and put the box back on the shelf. The delivery boy then made a hasty retreat from the room and quietly closed the door after him. Leaning on the door, he wiped his brow. A sense of relief flowed through him. He could have really messed that up, though a flicker of guilt surged through his brain as he wondered what would happen to the toaster and where it had gone.

Out in the corridor he spotted the other toaster not far from where he was. "I'm going to get ya." Fry mumbled, determined to catch at least one, so that the others, especially Leela, wouldn't think that he was a complete waste of space.

As he stalked it down the corridor, the smaller, female, toaster fluttered in front off him, just out of reach. Judging from its behavior, just about anyone might have suspected that it was actually leading Fry on, but he didn’t pay attention to details; he wanted to capture it. The toaster made one more wing-assisted jump and disappeared into another room. The redheaded delivery boy hesitated, but only for a short while. He snuck up to the door and, with a determined face, he barged through the doorway with the net over his head, ready to bring it down over the lone toaster.

Fry's war cry died on his lips and he froze on the spot as he took in what the room held. The room was filled with toasters, not making a sound. They sat everywhere, occupying every single part of the room just as they had in the laboratory, and on the floor not far from him was the one he had chased. Suddenly it started to clatter its lever loudly and flapped its wings in a menacing manner. The rest of the toasters heeded this signal, started an infernal metallic racket, and took to the air. They all dove straight for Fry.

Staring in fear and surprise at the attacking toasters, he did the only thing he could; he screamed like a little girl. The toasters pummeled him and, trying desperately to fend them off by waving his arms in the air at random, Fry missed the one that made a beeline straight for his head.

Fry felt a heavy thump at the side of his head as the chrome-clad toaster rammed him, followed by a sharp pain, and then everything started to fade out as his limp body fell to the floor. The last thing he heard was Leela, shouting his name.

Slowly waking up from his toaster-induced coma, Fry felt a slight, throbbing pain in the area of his head where the flying toaster had made its kamikaze run. Another thing that struck him as odd was not the fact that he was still lying down, but that his head was cold on one side and warm on the other. The cool area of his head was in the same area as the light pain, it was not a far-gone conclusion that someone had applied a bag of ice on his wound to sooth the bump that invariably had emerged. But he couldn't really figure out what the soft, yet pleasantly warm area that his head rested on was.

Puzzled, Fry could only think of one solution to find out what the warmth was; he had to open his eyes. Blinking against the sharp light, it took awhile for him to reacquaint them with the intrusive flicker from the TV set. It dawned upon him that he was laying on the couch in front of the TV in the lounge area. The world outside was dark and the artificial light from a nearby street light poured through the windows, as no-one had pulled the shades yet.

How long have I been out? Fry silently wondered, it had been daylight just moments ago. Or, at least, it felt like it had been moments ago. But it wasn't the fact that the sun had gone down that worried him. No, there was something else that wasn't quite right, something that had to do with the warm and soft area his head was resting upon; the whole room was tilting in a way suggesting that his head was resting on something other than the old, stained couch pillow.

He shifted slightly and tried to move his head, but there was something that pressed the bag of ice against his head, holding it firmly in place against a smooth, black fabric. Smooth, black fabric!? Fry's brain parsed the information, combined it with what little it already knew, and came to a startling conclusion. It was a conclusion that he wasn't quite ready to accept because it was just too incredible to be true.

Fry lay absolutely still for a couple of seconds while considering his options. He just had to find out if his head was resting on what he thought it was. Yet, any movement could give away that he was awake and spoil what he was suspecting.

Inch by inch, he carefully shifted his head just a tiny bit and looked up. The first thing he saw was a purple fringe, followed by a big round eye that was closed, a pair of nostrils attached to a very cute nose. Then a pair of round and shapely lips that were slightly parted appeared. All this was framed by a pair of breasts which, in turn, were contained within a white tank top. The revelation that he had his head in Leela’s lap came screeching through his brain like a stolen car.

For a split second, his mind was in turmoil. He still couldn't believe it. "Uhhh... L.. Leela?" He hazarded, his voice a bit hoarse and slightly higher in key than usual. Fry lay still and, holding his breath, waited for a response. But no answer came from his coworker.

Fry carefully glanced upward again at the shapely, round forms under the tank top, at Leela’s full lips, slightly parted, and her closed eye. She's sleeping. He concluded to himself. The delivery boy caught himself staring at Leela’s heaving chest; the view was spectacular. Fry turned beet red, almost matching his hair color. No no no! He didn’t want to spoil the moment by taking a left turn into pervertville.

And if she woke up and found out that he had been ogling her, there would be hell to pay. His first order of action was to remove Leela's rather firm hold on his head, preferably without waking her up. His left arm was not of much use to him, as it was partially pinned under him because he was lying on his side.

To Fry's surprise, his right hand was stuck in something, which he discovered was nothing other than Leela’s hand, slightly nestled in his, their fingers lightly entwined. It wasn't until now that he had noticed the soft, almost silky-smooth presence of Leela’s skin against his. Forcing some rather, at least for the moment, inappropriate feelings into the depths of his mind, Fry tried to carefully disentangle his hand from Leela's.

Nervous seconds ticked by as Fry- as slowly as he could- drew his hand away from that of the purple haired cyclops. But just has he managed to get his fingers free, Leela made a soft grunt and shifted slightly. Her grip around Fry's hand tightened and she let out a content sigh.

Fry, on the other hand, had yet again turned red as a stop sign, and his heart began beating a thousand miles a minute. Lying frozen in place, his mind looped one sentence: Don't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up!

Reassured by Leela’s slow breathing, Fry relaxed. She hadn't woken up. But now he couldn't move his arm at all; Leela was holding his hand much firmer than before. Escaping without waking her up seemed, at the moment, impossible. Perhaps if he watched TV for awhile her grip would loosen and he could get away before she woke up.

The TV featured The Tonight Show with Jay Leno’s head doing his funny news headlines segment. But with the sound turned down and the remote nowhere to be seen, it soon became boring. Fry closed his eyes. Maybe if I just rest my eyes for awhile... It didn't take long until the redheaded delivery boy drifted into sleep and soon matched Leela's slow breathing.

"Leela? All the toasters have been captured, how's Fry doing? Leela?" Amy's voice came from the door; the Asian intern poked her head inside and saw Fry and Leela sleeping together in a very cute way. She smiled a bittersweet smile, remembering what she and Fry had once shared. Amy closed the door behind her and set out to find Bender before he could find and ruin this moment of happiness that her friends had found.

The End

Buddies