Chapter Text
Power Joe had become increasingly difficult to share an office with. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming—loud enough for McCrane or Drill Boy to hear from their recharging racks—or he’d jump out of his chair whenever Dumpson walked within ten feet of his desk. Power Joe’s energy reserves had dropped so low that he rarely left the office, which meant that most of his free time was now devoted to watching rom-coms on the couch.
Worst of all, he was eating all of their snacks! This had to come to an end eventually, and Dumpson was going to be the one to make it happen. The only issue he’d foreseen was getting McCrane on board.
“Is that really why you’re here?” McCrane looked up from his paperwork, lip curling. “If you want to cheer Power Joe up, it’d make more sense to ask Deckerd for help. Morale isn’t my forte— for that matter, why not Drill Boy? I’d say they’re the closest.”
Dumpson took a seat in front of McCrane’s desk and kicked his legs up, to his present company’s extreme consternation.
“For a normal issue, yeah, I’d call Deckerd or really anyone else at all— but this is a matter of love. Power Joe’s problem is that he can’t get over his botched first relationship! You’re the only other Brave qualified to help the poor guy out.”
McCrane looked shocked at first, before quickly growing irritated.
“Considering the sudden nature of the affair, and the hallucinogenic effects of the sisters’ chemical weapon, I would not consider—”
“Are you telling me you don’t believe in love at first sight?” Dumpson interrupted. “Of course it was love! He told us that himself, whether you were listening or not, and the sorry bastard was willing to attack me over it. It’d better be love, in that case! I know it may be shocking to admit, considering the creature’s form and that he’d picked a brainless drone of all things instead of a decent lady… but that Joe was willing to overlook these characteristics makes it all the more convincing! It’s damn romantic.”
(Dumpson privately thought that the match had been relatively… accurate. Power Joe could be a bit of a brainless drone, and he wasn’t exactly a looker.)
“Of course I don’t. That’s not how love works,” McCrane deadpanned.
“See! You’ve got opinions, which is why I’m asking you instead of the kid. That… and experience!” Dumpson refused to be discouraged, on this matter.
McCrane blushed and held a servo up in front of his face, as if that was supposed to help. He could be a bit of a dork, at times.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” McCrane snapped, as if Dumpson didn’t notice the letters he received by military post. (The envelopes were thick enough to contain manuscripts, for God’s sake!) “I don’t think he needs any more ‘love’ right now, especially if you’re stupid enough to think that what they did to him was for the better. You can’t possibly understand what it feels like to have your innermost emotions… exposed, and used against you. It’s humiliating.”
Dumpson sighed. McCrane was always projecting his own feelings onto everyone else, which would be fine if anyone on the entire planet was as weird and insular as he was.
“Who do you go to, when you’re upset?” He asked, as if explaining a simple concept to a very stupid child.
“Ms. Seia.” McCrane froze, after admitting the fact. “... but Power Joe isn’t like us!”
“Because he has no one.”
McCrane looked distinctly uncomfortable. Dumpson crossed his arms, not relenting on his point.
“He has us.” McCrane cringed after saying the word ‘us.’ He was self-aware enough to remember that he’d been trying to pawn off the task of dealing with Power Joe just a few minutes ago. “He doesn’t need a girlfriend. He’s… sort of innocent, isn’t he? I always thought that he would be a bit younger than us, if we aged quite the same way as humans do. I just don’t think he’s ready for that sort of relationship.”
Dumpson laughed in McCrane’s face.
“Would you actually be willing to listen to him cry about his feelings, if he asked you to? You’re joking! He’s not like Drill Boy— he’s still a man, if a bit underdeveloped and oversensitive. Don’t you think it’s worth trying, for the sake of his own happiness? If we found a decent, practical girl to offset his negative traits… maybe he could get better. Power Joe’s a distractible sort of guy when it comes to feelings, anyway.”
McCrane remained still and quiet for a while. He glanced over at a small framed picture on his desk, which was facing away from the door, tucked away in the oddly secretive manner that characterized all of McCrane’s modes of expression. He frowned deeply.
“It does appear to me that Power Joe’s… self-esteem… has taken a hit. I will concede to your proposal, so long as you allow me to set up the first meeting and vet candidates— I don’t want just any human getting her hands on our crew.” His optics blazed for a moment, and he struggled to reel himself back in. (McCrane could be a touch overprotective at times… but this was a start.)
Dumpson leaned back in his chair and grinned. This was going to be great; he already knew it. Soon enough, Power Joe would rejoin the rest of them and be the same old mech they knew— only better, and so much happier! In Dumpson’s professional opinion, there was nothing in the world that couldn’t be solved with a good old-fashioned romance.
Power Joe was panicking. He’d not been given proper warning about what was happening until it was already upon him, and now it felt like team Super Build Tiger was conspiring against him. (Well, he felt pretty certain that Drill Boy wasn’t because Drill Boy didn’t really care… but seriously— even McCrane? Of all people?)
He hadn’t really expected to date, ever, which made this feel all the more confusing. Why bother putting so much effort into it? If it was meant to happen, it’d happen, and Power Joe would be better off spending his days training in the meantime. The whole concept of ‘love’ was new and confusing, and the last time things had kicked off… it hadn’t been like in the movies.
As it turned out, love felt an awful lot like splitting pain behind your optics and an ache that lingered at the base of your temple. The whole bit about “seeing sparks” was accurate, if only in the sense that he was still scrubbing away shimmering artifacts from his optics, like flakes of ash and glitter that spun around and around until he got so lightheaded that he couldn’t think straight. Love felt a lot like fear. (Which he may have gotten a bit of a heads-up on from Hollywood, but it’d never seemed quite so intense from a viewer’s perspective.)
The feeling culminated in engine palpitations and rogue flashing icons that scrambled all over his radar system, which always set Power Joe’s mesh crawling with suspicion that something might be just around the corner, watching him. The feeling persisted; as it turned out, there were some things the car wash couldn’t fix. It’d been a little over a week, and Power Joe still felt broken.
He didn’t want to feel like that again so soon after his first crash and burn. The timing of it all also seemed a little disrespectful to Lua (who may or may not have been alive, but certainly wasn’t anymore), and to the Brave that had worked so hard to get him out of trouble last time. Power Joe didn’t want to cause Shadowmaru any extra problems… or attack any of the other members of the Build Team.
However, McCrane was very insistent about the entire scheme, which made Power Joe hesitate to reject it. McCrane was usually so measured and responsible, and he gave every decision a great deal of thought. If McCrane thought it was for the better— than it was. This was how Power Joe’s world worked.
“I know you’re nervous… meeting new people is always hard,” McCrane admitted, as he walked Power Joe out of the Decker room and into the courtyard. “However, if I know you at all, I also know that you have a gift for working with people. You’re a natural at this, and I think you’ll have a lot of fun. There’s nothing wrong with making new friends either, even if you don’t feel a spark.”
Power Joe shuddered, as the turn of phrase brought to mind a sharp, stinging sensation that had attacked the back of his processor. He squeezed his optics shut, and McCrane patted his shoulder.
“Um… yeah. I guess.”
“I reviewed her online profile personally. That’s how I know that she’s an intelligent, reasonable, kind person.” McCrane smiled, omitting the obsessive background checks he had run, three day’s worth of stalking, and the multitude of brief interviews he’d held with Yuuta’s teacher about her alleged ‘friend.’ “Since she’s a teacher, I know you two will have something to talk about, as well.”
This improved Power Joe’s mood slightly. He loved asking questions about different schools, and to brag about the kids that he mentored. Gathering up his courage, he decided to put on a brave face— so that McCrane wouldn’t be disappointed and their efforts wouldn’t be wasted. Clearly, his brothers just wanted him to be happy.
“Uh… and where would we… go?” Power Joe transformed, rolling back and forth on his treads anxiously. “You set up that part, too, right? That’s normally what happens in movies about blind dates. I’ve watched… a lot of those. Um. Regardless! I can’t exactly fit in a movie theater, or a restaurant, or even the library.”
“Are you implying that you would take a la— I mean, someone, to the public library on a first date?” He raised an optical ridge at Power Joe, who looked increasingly nervous. “We thought the park might be nice. I told her to anticipate a picnic.”
Right, yeah… he could do that! Power Joe could manage that, somehow. He shook himself to clear his head.
“I’ll go set everything up, then! You don’t need to worry. I was totally overreacting. Thanks, boss!” Power Joe zipped off, like usual, leaving McCrane with nothing to do but wait.
Power Joe had been waiting for his date just long enough to be nervous. He’d realized during the long and difficult process of arranging a tiny picnic that the whole ‘blind dating’ setup was largely inconvenient and impractical. For one, not knowing each other was a bit weird. It also made communicating where to meet take four times as long, and Power Joe wasn’t even sure that she’d actually approach given his unique… form.
This wasn’t as mysterious or exciting as it’d seemed in the movies, after all.
After about twenty minutes of frying his own circuits in suspense, Power Joe was ready to pack up the picnic basket once again. (Maybe the Tomonagas would be willing to eat it… as Power Joe certainly couldn’t.)
He sat up, looked down at himself, and sighed.
“Oh well,” Power Joe muttered, not having anything else to tack onto the sentence which would make it a complete statement. Maybe: at least it had been a nice day out. He always liked being able to get out of the Decker Room, and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
However, just as soon as he begins to pack up, a brunette in a scruffy-looking suit rushed up to him, stopping for a moment to catch her breath.
“Sorry! I— didn’t mean to be so late, it’s terribly rude, but I didn’t… um…” She seemed hesitant to say whatever it was out loud. “Sorry! My name is Kitagawa Akari.”
“It’s okay! My feelings weren’t hurt at all… I’m late all the time.” (Shit. Now he looked like a total slacker.) “I’m Power Joe.”
Ms. Kitagawa laughed.
“Uh… I know, you’re on the news all the time, and the kids talk about you a lot— even though they’re pretty far from your district. Er. I don’t want to offend you… but you’re not exactly what I was expecting.”
Power Joe tried to move over so that she had room to sit down comfortably. He ducked his helm, and his audials pinned back in apprehension.
“Right! I didn’t really… know how much information McCrane may have disclosed to you. I hope it’s not too shocking. I may not have seen you on the news, but I’m sure there are a lot of interesting things that you do as well. I would like to hear about them!”
Power Joe found that he was talking very slowly and with an unusual amount of breaks for composition, as if he were speaking in a second language. He felt dysregulated and put on the spot, as he’d been 100% prepared to go back to being slime on the couch just a few seconds ago. Power Joe lacked experience in other people expecting him to be human; he’d always been a machine, and at his size and scale it was unmistakable to anyone who met him. This embarrassed him, especially since he’d easily perceived that it bothered Ms. Kitagawa more than she let on.
She picked at some of the fuel which Power Joe had brought her, still fidgeting and looking up— far up, every once in a while.
“Right… um, I teach history at a private junior high school for gifted students. It’s… interesting. They’re very bright, which keeps my job exciting, but the pressure they’re facing can be intense.” She explains, halting at certain points as if unsure that she was expressing herself correctly.
Power Joe nods eagerly.
“I understand! It’s like if a giant space tower was going to fall on the planet and rupture the ocean’s natural equilibrium, putting many keystone species at risk and generating an unprecedented class of typhoon. You have to get it right the first time, or the resulting damage will set you back far enough that you can’t try again to tackle the real issue.”
“Er. Yes.” For whatever reason, Ms. Kitagawa seemed confused and thrown off balance by this response. “The real issue is that the students are very competitive, which means that they can be cruel to each other without realizing that they’re stepping over the line. That’s part of why I was so late— I had to break up a fight in the bathrooms during cleaning hour and refer the students to counseling. Then I got stuck in traffic which was… a mess, like always.”
Power Joe nodded, finding this all very instructive. He’s not considered how challenging it might be to teach older students, as he mostly interacted with kids in Yuuta’s peer group.
“Oh! I should have offered to drive you! I’m sorry, I just didn’t think of it at the time.” He transformed into his alt-mode, and rolled back slightly to still keep clear of her. (The action originates somewhat from an impulse to show off, and somewhat from an impulse to hide. Power Joe always felt safer in his excavator mode.)
Ms. Kitagawa shrank back, not able to disguise her immediate reaction of shock and disgust.
“Um, it’s alright. I really didn’t expect you to!” She glanced away, wincing slightly. “Listen, Joe, I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I know you’re trying your best to be a thoughtful… I mean, really considerate guy, and I’ve heard a lot of good things about what you do… but I just don’t see this working out.”
Power Joe transformed back into his robot mode, realizing that he’d done something wrong. He moved further back, folding his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around himself.
“No, it’s okay! I get that you weren’t really warned in advance about what was going on. In your position, I’d feel the same way.” In reality, Power Joe didn’t know what he’d feel, because he wasn’t a human. “A-as a member of the Brave Police, it’s my duty to make humans like yourself happy! There’s no reason for me to waste your valuable time if this is not making you happy.”
He knew it sounded stupid and pathetic even as the words left his mouth. Power Joe cringed— why did he always have to go for a cheesy lecture, when he didn’t feel sure of himself? Girls hated being lectured! That, combined with the constant apologizing… male romantic leads hardly ever did that. Power Joe should know better.
“I feel the exact same way.” Ms. Kitagawa walked over, and rested a hand on Power Joe’s knee. She smiled at him. “I know you’re a good person, and I don’t want to waste your time either because I know I’m not the one for you. I just… don’t think I could see myself dating a robot. It’s a bit jarring, especially considering how much my students go on about you like you’re a character in one of their comic books."
Power Joe tried very hard not to cry, even though he felt very strange and out of place all at once. It was lonely to be one of eight of your kind, and surrounded by… an entirely different species. The Earth belonged to humans, and all of its films were ultimately about people. Joe knew that he wouldn’t ever be one, no matter how much he tried to pretend. (So why bother trying to be male lead material, anyways? He was disqualified, right off the bat.)
“Okay,” He resisted the urge to retreat back into his excavator mode. “Um. I’ll clean up… you can go on ahead. It was nice meeting you.”
She turned away slowly, still looking at Power Joe with a pitying, self-conscious expression.
“It was nice meeting you too.”
With that, Ms. Kitagawa was gone.
At the end of the evening, Power Joe was right back where he started: on the couch, watching reruns of old movies he kept on tape. He had an ongoing list of films that were worth rewatching (roughly forty two, by his count)… but only one film that he returned to on a near-regular basis. It was a combination of everything that was great about American television; a wildly inaccurate and ridiculous kung-fu action flick unsure of its actual time period. There was just enough humor to let you know that it wasn’t taking itself seriously without distracting from the shot-by-shot action, vibrant color-grading, and practical effects. (Of course, it was also a romantic comedy, because that element of a film could not be discarded— particularly in Power Joe’s book.)
Power Joe was a romantic in theory, if not in practice. Any star-crossed lovers’ plotline was enough to make him burst into tears, but the one featured in Legend of the Steel-Fanged Kick-Boxing Mantis was special because the romantic subplot was intertwined with the main action. The hero was frequently taken off guard and distracted from her mission by the male romantic lead, who challenged her to a variety of epic duels, tests of strength, and a (botched) infiltration of an ancient crypt. (The hero was more often than not tossed around like a sack of bricks, because she happened to be a fraud who wasn’t nearly as practiced in kung-fu as she let on. However, it was her intense spirit, determination, and street-smarts that made her such a good fighter; Power Joe couldn’t help but root for her.)
Most movies seemed incapable or otherwise unwilling to balance the tension between two characters, relegating one or the other to a less active state— leading to cheap, dull scenes stuffed between the “main” plot. Power Joe could not say the same for Legend of the Steel-Fanged Kick-Boxing Mantis. The scenes between the two romantic leads were breathtaking and it drew him in every time.
Of course, they both nearly died at the end, because neither was willing to cede their beliefs. Power Joe always found himself nervous upon a re-watch, as if the film might change inexplicably and this time they wouldn’t scrape through it. He somehow forgot that the film was just a romantic comedy, and that couples in romantic comedies were always destined to survive.
Power Joe was watching the two lovers duel, wrapped up in a blanket cocoon with just his helm peeking out, when McCrane entered the room and sat down beside him.
“Are you alright? I’m guessing things didn’t go well… Drill Boy told me you came home early.” McCrane spoke slowly and carefully.
Power Joe winced. He didn’t want to dwell on this.
“Yeah. It’s alright. I don’t really care— it’s just a blind date, after all. I didn’t even know her.”
“I’ve noticed that you only watch this movie when you’re upset or distracted by something.” McCrane tried to rest his servo on Power Joe’s back, to comfort him. It comes off a little awkward. “You almost always choose something new, otherwise. I imagine you’ve still got plenty of new movies to watch, before you totally run out, no?”
Power Joe hesitated. He didn’t want to say anything, or make a big deal out of an issue that couldn’t be helped… he just wanted to forget it ever happened, and never do anything like this ever again.
“I wish I was normal,” He managed to tell McCrane, his voice as flat as his current emotional state would allow. “I’m… really sick… of being a ‘robot.’”
He was tired of being used, of being reprogrammed by villains, of being picked at by the lab technicians after the fact. He was tired of being set apart from everyone else, and of being too big to fit anywhere that other people belonged. Most of all Power Joe was tired of worrying about his teammates’ dating lives, and if he’d be expected to do the same eventually, and what the consequences would be if he couldn’t make it.
“You hardly are!” McCrane responds, very lightly. He couldn’t imagine that being a problem, but soon enough his expression drew in with concern as he caught sight of the still-drying tears on Power Joe’s faceplates. “Hardly at all… you feel very deeply.”
Power Joe looked away, irritably. Gee, thanks. From McCrane, that was anything but a compliment.
“Being gullible and s-stupid isn’t the same thing as being a human. There are plenty of humans even more practical than you, like— Miss Seia.” Power Joe regrets bringing her up immediately, because McCrane gets this stupid moony expression plastered all over his face that makes everything feel ten times worse.
Maybe that was a little dramatic. Power Joe was happy for McCrane; he seemed to have everything figured out. He was a romantic sort of guy, which was commendable; unlike whatever freakshow Dumpson had going on.
“It doesn’t suit you to speak ill of your own niche. We are machines, and we were built the way that we are for a reason. You’re very good at being what you are, because it’s natural.”
“—at being gullible and stupid?” Power Joe waved a hand to silence McCrane when he moved to protest. “I just don’t think it’s fair, that your natural way gets you weekly office commendations, and my natural way is to screw up over and over again… at everything… for the rest of my life! I’m slow on the road, McCrane, and I quail at the sight of blood and I can’t sit still long enough to work the desk-jockey bit, and I can’t give out tickets because I let too many people off easy and get the department fined. I miss the important details and the bad guys pull one over on me— fool me once, hell, they can fool me a thousand times and it’ll still always be me! I can’t even… serve humanity… the way you managed to on the first try!”
Because no one wanted Power Joe. No one would ever choose him unless they wanted to pry him apart for the sake of it. He tried to strangle a sob in his throat before it could take over, but he was too far gone already.
“I have always liked the person you turned out to be.” McCrane shuffled forward, trying to put his arms around the trembling mass of mechanical parts that had fallen into his custody. He was a bad hugger. This made Power Joe laugh, a little, and feel slightly vindicated. “I once thought you were the better mech. There are times… when I still do. This isn’t about your job, Power Joe. It’s not about a duty to serve. You’ve never once struggled with that.”
Power Joe had bit the inside of his intake hard enough that oil was seeping out of his lip-plating. He oozed ungracefully onto McCrane’s shoulder.
“Not… true…”
“True.” McCrane responded more firmly than before. “It’s about partnership, just like anything else, when and if you want it. You don’t need this— I knew that was the case long ago, and I say it now. I have no business forcing you to spend your time on… extracurriculars, for the sake of Dumpson’s dreadful conventionality. You will not have to do this again.”
Power Joe relaxed marginally. He could get over this; he knew he had it in him, to get back to work and his usual routines, to drag himself through life until it became easy again. He’d done it before. McCrane had turned to face the screen and was now staring at it with a perplexed expression. This level of distractibility was not common for him, but there was currently a very loud explosion occurring on screen… complete with fake prop limbs flying everywhere. They were made of rubber. It was terrible. It was brilliant.
“I don’t understand what is so captivating about this film. You’ve watched it dozens of times already… surely, there has to be something better.” McCrane pulled another face.
“The romantic lead’s also the rival character, which means that his stuff doesn’t intersperse a weird break into the action sequences.” Power Joe shrugged, still not quite his usual self. Normally he’d kill for the chance to tell McCrane about Legend of the Steel-Fanged Kick-Boxing Mantis. “That way it’s all high-octane, and everybody kicks ass.”
“Surely, there are kung-fu movies without romantic subplots.” McCrane looked over. “If that’s your concern.”
“Out of Hollywood?” Power Joe laughed so hard his busted faceplate oozed, again. “God, no! Besides, this movie’s bad on purpose. The bad SFX is self-aware, and the director knew he was working with a stupid American movie and that pretending to be cool and solemn is… the worst thing that a stupid American movie could do. There’s a bar fight featuring real sawed-off shotguns, and a fencing cabaret singer, a live tiger that ate up half the budget, and no less than fifty flesh wounds. It’s a period piece only when it wants to be.”
McCrane smiled. He didn’t understand it at all.
“You’re more creative than you think you are.” Slowly, as if it pained him, he rose to his pedes. “Don’t stay up too late watching movies. You’ve got an early morning patrol tomorrow.”
Power Joe grinned, because morning patrol was his favorite, and he knew that McCrane was ready to go back to normal too.