First Time for Everything - Supergirl, Brainy (m)

[angora48]

 

I haven't posted any fic in a long idea - I always have ideas, but it seems I rarely have time to actually write them.  Finally had a chance to finish this one, though!  I always try to have a fic completed before I start posting because I like being able to do an update a day.  😆

Note:  Supergirl herself isn't actually in this story.  I love Kara, but I also love the Alex-Brainy friendship, and that's what I wanted to highlight here.  You just KNOW Kara would be all over taking care of any of her sick friends, so I I kept her out of it to keep the focus on Alex-Brainy.  This is set sometime early in season 4.

Our characters are as follows:

Alex

Brainy (for those who don't know, he's an alien AI who uses an "image inducer" to appear human - this is how he looks with and without it on)

And a brief appearance from Lena

Without further ado, here's Part 1!

 

 

Alex was getting better at it, this whole “director” thing.  At least, she felt like she was.  It was a little weird – she never had any trouble telling other agents what to do until that became her actual job, and then the self-doubt started suddenly creeping in.  She could feel the weight of it, knowing that other people could pay – sometimes with their lives – for her mistakes, and there were moments early on when that fact paralyzed her.

But she was growing more comfortable with the authority, the accountability, and she didn’t feel so much like a “fake boss” when she stood before a group of DEO agents giving orders.  It was still hard, of course, and there were days when she’d give anything to go back to J’onn being in charge, but every day, she was getting a little surer in her belief that she could handle this.

At the moment, the DEO was without its biggest gun:  Kara was visiting Argo, and with Superman still there too, that meant no Kryptonian heroes around to swoop in if things got hairy.  Admittedly, that made Alex a little nervous, especially since J’onn was strictly non-combat these days, and part of her wished Kara could’ve waited until Superman came back before making her own trip off-world.  But Alex knew that wasn’t fair; Kara and Superman were family, and with the recent discovery that even a small number of their people had survived, they had every right to share in that together.

It was going to be fine, Alex reminded herself, and it was.  They’d gotten along all right for the first day of Kara’s absence, and they’d manage the rest of the week too.  Sure, they were currently short on superpowered aliens to put in the field, but DEO agents were well-trained and well-equipped.  They’d be all right.

To be honest, it was fairly quiet right now.  There’d been little in the way of hostile alien activity lately, and while anti-alien extremism was definitely on the radar, the so-called “Agent Liberty” seemed to be underground, at least at present.  So, it was a lot of monitoring, and a lot of being on alert without a specific action to take.

It was mid-morning, and Alex was making the rounds at the DEO.  She’s already checked the cells and was now heading to the main hub for updates on… well, anything.

As she approached Brainy’s station, Alex found the techno-organic frowning in though as he tapped at his forehead, at the small, concealed software that projected a holographic image of a human form over his naturally-blue self.  “What’ve you got for me?” she asked.

Brainy glanced at her, then turned his attention to the several computer screens in front of him.  “I noticed Agent Henderson monitoring ‘dark web chatter,’” he explained, the air quotes evident in his voice, “keeping tabs on several anti-alien groups and attempting to glean further information on Agent Liberty while looking out for any evidence of new planned attacks.”  He grimaced a bit and cocked his head, like he had a crick in his neck.  Clearing his throat, he went on, “I’ve created an algorithm to perform that function with an accuracy exceeding Agent Henderson’s by 48.3%.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Alex remarked.  This was an issue with slower periods – whenever Brainy didn’t have enough of his own work to do, he had a tendency to write programs that could do other agents’ jobs for them in a fraction of the time.  If Alex didn’t keep him busy, Col. Haley was going to start thinking they need to lay off some staff.

Brainy was tapping his forehead again.  “Something up?” Alex asked.

“Uncertain,” the Coluan AI replied in a low, distracted voice.  He looked at Alex.  “Have you noted any glitches in my image inducer?”

Alex looked over Brainy’s human hologram:  long dark hair, light brown skin, a pronounced nose.  Since she initially met Brainy in his normal Coluan form, it was tough to get used to the image inducer when he first started using it, but by now, this human appearance felt just as much like Brainy to her as the blue one did.  “Looks fine to me,” Alex told him.  “Why?  Are you having problems with it?”

“It’s odd,” Brainy observed.  “I’ve not detected any visual malfunctions myself, but it feels… tight.”

Alex frowned; that was weird.  “Tight?”

Brainy nodded.  “At the neck,” he explained.

“But how can a holographic image feel… well, anything?” Alex asked.

“It really shouldn’t,” Brainy confirmed, “which is why it’s odd.”  He made a visual effort to shake it off, but Alex could tell it was still bothering him.  He’d been a little preoccupied with his image inducer for the last month or so, ever since an incident where it briefly cut out while he was out in public and he had a hostile run-in with some intolerant humans.  It had been a hack, not a glitch, and he hadn’t brought it up with Alex since it had happened, but she’d noticed the way he sometimes fiddled with the hidden interface or seemed concerned about whether or not it was working.

Now, as she brought up a new project for him – figuring out a way to make the tranq guns auto-load the correct amount of tranquilizer for whatever alien was at hand, something more reliable than an agent simply guessing how many doses would be needed – she saw the occasional distracted look in his eyes, the way his fingertips brushed over his forehead but refrained from actually pressing buttons.

“Understood,” Brainy said, a little hastily.

“You can do it?” Alex asked.

“Of course,” Brainy replied.  “The alien database ought to have all the relevant metabolic data, especially with the substantial additions I made to it upon joining the DEO.  It’s merely a matter of marrying the devices to the database and getting them to communicate with one another.”

“Sounds good,” Alex told him.  “Keep me posted on how it’s going.”

“Very well,” Brainy said.  Recognizing the end of the conversation, he abruptly turned back to his computer screens and brought up schematics for the tranq guns on one of them – as far as he seemed to be concerned, Alex might as well not even be there.

Not that he was all business, however.  As Alex walked away, she noticed that Brainy was still messing with his image inducer.

Even a relatively quiet day could be a busy one at the DEO.  Alex didn’t like to sit around, and so she took advantage of the calm by spending more time overseeing training with some newer agents and observed testing on some new equipment soon to be deployed in the field.

A few hours later, Alex found herself in the main hub again, review prisoner transfer protocols with Agent Lennix in preparation for moving a few prisoners off-site.  “Make sure you use the rubber gloves and boots with the Ekkenians,” she reminded the young agent.  “The last agent that tried to handle them without the proper gear still hasn’t stopped twitching.”

Alex heard a breathy “hihhhh-chioooo!” from a few stations down.

“Bless you, Brainy,” she called absentmindedly.  Then, to Lennix, “Don’t be that guy.”

Lennix nodded.  “Loud and clear, director,” she said.

Satisfied, Alex was about to move on when she heard Brainy muttering, “That was anomalous.”

“What is it?” she asked, walking to his station, her eyes fixed to his screens.  “The Children of Liberty?  Are they planning-?”

“What?” Brainy said, sounding distracted.  He glanced at the screen running his anti-alien-chatter algorithm.  “No, that’s all within expectations.  Rhetoric and posturing, but no threat of more than 23.2% credibility.”

“So what’s up?” Alex asked.

“Just…” Brainy frowned, “that was a sneeze.”

Alex had a sinking feeling.  When an alien sneezed and was surprised about it?  It probably wasn’t just a random sneeze.  “And that’s not something you do?” she asked, even though she figured she already knew the answer.

“Historically, no,” Brainy replied.

This might be starting to make sense.  “Your image inducer,” Alex said, “you said it felt tight at the neck?”

“Oh – we’re doing a change of subject,” Brainy remarked.  “Yes.”  He raised a hand to his left temple.  “Here as well – I’ve been as yet unable to determine a cause.”

Maybe he couldn’t, but Alex was putting it together.  “What’s the physical sensation of it?  What does it actually feel like?”

Brainy gave Alex a look like she was a moderately-slow child he was humoring, but he answered, “A slight constriction around my throat, with mild discomfort when swallowing.  And at my temple, a slight but persistent pinched sensation.”

Yep – a headache, and the beginnings of a sore throat.  “Anything else?” Alex pressed.  “Muscle aches, fatigue, a nauseated feeling in your stomach?”

“You’re talking about an illness,” Brainy noted.  It was a statement without any hint of what he thought about that; he might as well have been saying, “The square root of 49 is 7.”

“Is that possible?” Alex asked.  “Can you get sick?”

“Of course,” Brainy replied.  “While my intelligence is artificial, my body is organic and thus subject to harmful microbes.  I occasionally contracted illnesses back on Colu.”

“But not since you’ve been on Earth?” Alex clarified.  This might throw a wrench in her theory.  “You’ve been here for quite a while.”

“True, but my time spent in the 31^st century should be discounted from your data set,” Brainy pointed out.  His eyes suddenly widened slightly, and he frowned.  “…For reasons that are no concern of yours.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.  “No sickness in the 31^st century?” she asked.

“Butterfly Effects, Director Danvers,” Brainy replied.  “It’s best not to speculate.”

Brainy wasn’t nearly as cagey as he liked to think he was.  “Whatever – so being in the 21^st century is your first real exposure to human sicknesses?” Alex clarified.

“Something to that effect,” Brainy confirmed.

Alex nodded, thinking.  “Do you think they might be compatible with your biology?”

“It’s plausible enough,” Brainy reasoned.  “79.4% probability.”

If he was coming down with something, he didn’t seem to care all that much.  “Are you feeling anything else out of the ordinary?” Alex repeated.

Brainy’s frown was thoughtful, not concerned.  “I feel slightly tired,” he noted, “and I experienced a brief but potent irritation in my nose before sneezing, but it dissipated quickly afterward.”

Alex considered this.  “From what you’ve told me, it sounds like you might be getting a cold,” she explained, “but it’s probably a bit early to tell.  Keep an eye on it, okay?”

“I will,” Brainy replied, with a hint of disinterest.

When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything more, Alex said, “And you’re all right for now?”

“Of course,” Brainy said.  He didn’t add you stupid human, but his tone at least slightly suggested it.

“Okay then,” Alex replied.  If she were coming down with a disease from another planet, she might care about it just a little, but Brainy certainly didn’t seem to.  “I’ll leave you to it.”

 

[Reader]

THIS IS SO CUTE! Not only do I love how unaware the AI is that he’s sick at first, but I also love how your writing conveyed that with LOGICAL reasons. I love the way he interacts with her and his thought processes. I love these types of scenarios and it’s been a while since I’ve read one! Thanks for putting pics up! Excited for the next part! I’m so ready! 

[Elyze]

I'm really looking forward to the rest of this fic. I have very much enjoyed your previous stories and I'm sure I'll love this I've too

I watched season 1 of Supergirl a while back but never got around to continuing once the other seasons came out. I'm currently watching Arrow and I understand there will be some overlap later so I guess I have an incentive to pick it up again. I'm quite curious to get to know this Brainy now 

 

[angora48]

 

Hey, thanks for the comments!  Reader, I can never resist a good sci-fi or fantasy twist on a sickfic.  😉  I always like to include pics of the major characters in my fanfics - some of the fandoms I like aren't super well-known, so I want to make sure people who aren't familiar with the source material can still visualize all the fetishy goodness.  And helyzelle, I've really been loving Brainy on the current season of Supergirl, especially his relationship with Alex.  They have a fun "big sister-annoying little brother who's also a super-genius alien AI from the future" thing going on.

Part 2.  Sorry it's so short today - we're still in the preliminary stage of the story, but I promise there'll be more goodness soon!

 

It was late in the afternoon when Alex made it back around to Brainy.  She felt a little bad about it; she figured he had no desire to have anyone hovering, but she suspected that he was going to have a harder time with this than he imagined, and if he wasn’t going to look out for himself, she’d better do it for him.

Sure enough, as Alex approached Brainy’s station, she found the Coluan rubbing his nose.  “How’re you doing?” she asked.

“I’ve set up ad algorithm to extract betabolic idformation frob the alien database and calculate the approxibate dose of tranquilizer deeded to subdue lifeforbs of said metabolism,” Brainy told her.  “I now deed to devise a bethod of conveying that data directly to the tranquilizer guds.”

Of course.  “How’re you feeling, Brainy?” Alex clarified.

“Oh.”  Brainy sniffled lightly.  “You ought to have been bore specific.  I feel tired, the pain id by temple has begun spreading across by brow, add I seeb to be developing a proliferation of water bucus.”

“Your nose is running,” Alex supplied.

“To quote the absurd Earth verdacular,” Brainy said.  He sniffled again.  “I’ve also sdeezed an additional three tibes, bringing the present total to four.”

Leave it to Brainy to count his sneezes.  “How ‘bout your throat?” Alex asked.

“Udchanged,” Brainy told her, “but this dew data is sufficient to confirb your original hypothesis.  The probability of by havi…” He paused, drawing in a breath, and sneezed an almost perfunctory “haaahhhhh-ihhhhhhh-shuuhhhhhh!” into the back of his hand.  He kept it there for an extra beat, sniffled, and then lowered it, smoothly continuing, “…having codtracted a cobbon cold is dow dinety-two point six percedt.  That’s five sneezes dow.”  He wriggled his nose.

Alex winced a little.  “Welcome to the 21^st century, I guess,” she remarked.  “Sorry.”

“The apology is udnecessary,” Brainy informed her.  “It wasn’t your doing.”

He was sick, so Alex resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.  “It’s called sympathy, Brainy,” she pointed out.  “Don’t worry if you need a few days off; that’s fine.  We’ll be good here.”

“Also uddessary,” Brainy replied.  “The commod cold is a binor Earth illdess, typically doh cause for concern except id cases of extrebe ibbunodeficiency.”  He rubbed his nose, sniffling.  “On the whole, it’s dot knowd to prevent hubans from conducting their usual busidess.”

“Hey, you wanna work, that’s fine,” Alex told him.  “Just go easy, okay?  This is your first cold, so it might be kind of rough on you.”

“You udderestimate me, Director Dadvers,” Brainy said.  “Dow, I deed to procure a tradquilizer gud from the armory to deterbine how best to adapt it for by purposes.”  He picked up the tablet on his desk and set off down the hall, bending at the waist as a strong sneeze hit him.  “huhhhhhh-chiaahhhhhhhh!” he sneezed toward the floor.  “Six sdeezes,” he called to Alex as he straightened, continuing on his way.

“Don’t work too hard!” Alex called back, suppressing a sigh.  She was not looking forward to this.

 

[Reader]

I’m so looking forward to this! This was so gooooood! Short but amazing...as the updated quote goes! I loved the congestion and sneezes and how he explained all his symptoms indifferently. The bits of conversation were excellent and in character as well. Thanks for this treat! 

[angora48]

 

Thanks, Reader!  I had a lot of fun playing around with what Brainy would be like having a cold for the first time, and almost complete indifference seemed right to me.  Let's see how well he keeps that up as he starts to feel worse!  👹

Part 3.

 

With the exception of emergencies, which occurred on their own schedule and obviously necessitated an immediate departure for the DEO, Brainy was normally expected to arrive at 9:00 each morning, according to the local time zone.  As per 21^st-century custom, he had a daily alarm programmed into his phone that was set off at 8:34, the precise time he needed to rise in order to dress, see to his morning ablutions, and walk to the DEO, acquiring breakfast from one of four sidewalk food carts along his route.

On this particular morning, the sound of Brainy’s alarm was an unwelcome one.  It jolted him from sleep in a rather disorienting fashion, and its incessant clamor aggravated the pulsing pain he found in his head.  Brainy reached to his nightstand for the phone to silence it but instead knocked it to the floor, where it persisted in shrilly signaling the start of the day.

As Brainy leaned over the edge of the bed, groping in the dark for the phone, a heady irritation flooded his nasal passages.  “Ahhhh… hehhh-SHOOOOO!” he sneezed.  “Ehhhh-chiuhhhhh!”  Brainy ran his free hand beneath his nose.  Wet.  His fingers closing around the phone, he also pulled a tissue from the box on the floor and sank back into the pillow.  After an “IHHHHHH-huhhhhhh-chiooooooo!” into the tissue, he poked at the surface of the phone, quieting it, and commenced blowing his nose.

The evening before, as Brainy had left the DEO, he’d felt a brief irrational urge to proceed back to his apartment and go directly to sleep; he’d felt tired, and the pain in his brow had spent the last two hours gradually intensifying.  However, he’d known that sustenance was needed to keep his immune system in good working order and that, furthermore, a common cold would require tissues.

Brainy had stopped first at a drug store, calculating the amount of tissues he would need based on the extent to which the frequency of his sneezes had increased over the course of the day and extrapolating that data across the average duration of a common cold (under the assumption that symptoms rose to an apex by the midpoint of the illness and then decreased at the same rate.)  The drug store had not been supplied with any tissue boxes that precisely matched his estimated needs, so Brainy had acquired one 75-sheet box and one 70-sheet box, the solution nearest his calculation.  Then, procuring a burrito from the Mexican deli three blocks from his apartment, he’d returned home to gain sustenance before retiring for the night.

Now, lying on his back, Brainy coughed.  He held the back of his hand to his mouth; his eyes fell closed.  The pain in his throat had worsened as well.  No longer present only when he swallowed, it now stung sharply as a matter of course.  A building sneeze irritated his nose again.  “Haahhhhh-ehhhh-SHUHHHHHH!”

It occurred to him that he hadn’t yet risen from his bed.  That was atypical.  But even as Brainy told himself to get up, that he now had only 23 minutes before he was expected at the DEO, he still didn’t move.

Another sneeze – “ehhhhh-hihhhhh-SHOOOOO-uhhhh!” – and Brainy forced his protesting body from the bed.  As he made his way to the closet, his head felt thick.  With fatigue, with congestion, with the pain that seemed to have settled behind his eyelids during the night.  It all seemed to conspire against him, and he found it difficult to think.

His motor abilities, as it turned out, were also slightly compromised.  Despite already being behind in his usual morning schedule, Brainy couldn’t make his limbs hasten to compensate.  A hard “huhhh-CHOOOOO!” burst from him as he dressed, nearly causing him to stagger with his pants around his ankles.

By the time Brainy finished in the bathroom, it was already 8:53.  His walk to the DEO took 8 minutes, with an additional 3 to procure breakfast.  Clearly, his normal routine would not be feasible.  As Brainy tapped his image inducer on, he coughed into his shoulder, noting a minor build-up of phlegm in his throat.

Still, Brainy could not get himself to hurry.  In the kitchen, he grabbed a banana (a sub-optimal breakfast, but there wasn’t time for anything else) and his second box of tissues.  The time was 8:56 when he left the apartment, activated his flight ring, and flew to the DEO, alighting on the upper-level balcony frequently used by Kara for arrival and departure.

While flying allowed Brainy to reach the DEO on time (it was exactly 9:00 as he stepped inside,) he generally preferred his daily practice of walking to work while he ate his breakfast.  It was a calming habit, a well-worn start to the day that could not be achieved through the hasty rush of flight.  Furthermore, the wind whipping in Brainy’s face as he flew had been unpleasant on his nose.  He plucked a tissue from the box under his arm and blew his nose, finding he required a second tissue to do it thoroughly.

Brainy peeled his banana and ate it as he walked down to his station on the first floor, although the stinging sensation in his throat sharpened at each swallow.  Director Danvers was already in the central hub, nodding as she looked over Agent Baines’s shoulder at the agent’s computer.

“Morning,” she said, taking note of Brainy as he walked by.  Director Danvers paid better-than-average attention to detail for a human and regularly maintained an awareness of all going on around her, from the vital to the mundane.  It was a quality she’d no doubt developed as a field agent, and it was serving her well as director.

“Good bording, Director Dadvers,” Brainy replied.  While he’d taken stock of his common-cold symptoms upon waking, this was the first he’d spoken that morning, and he hadn’t entirely anticipated the congestion and low scratch of his voice.  Director Danvers glanced Brainy’s way, began turning back to Agent Baines’s computer, then looked toward Brainy again.

Brainy had not expected to find a box of tissues already placed on his desk.  “These wered’t here yesterday,” he observed.  Coughing, he brought a hand to his mouth.

“Didn’t know if you’d think of it,” Director Danvers remarked.

Brainy sniffed, uncomfortably aware of the excess mucus in his nose.  “You’ll fide you save codsiderable tibe, eddergy, and, id this case, buddy, if you operate udder the assumpshud that I thidk of everything,” Brainy told her.  He sneezed, a strong “AHHHHH-shiiuuuhhhh!”, and took a tissue from his own box before placing it on his desk beside the one Director Danvers purchased.

She’d left Agent Baines and now approached his station.  “You don’t sound too good,” she noted.  Her eyes searched his face.

“I doh,” Brainy replied.  “Social dicety bay dictate that I apologize for the reduced clarity of by voice,” he sniffed, “but I trust you’re aware that- ihhhhh-HAHHHHHH-ehhhhhhhh-chuhhhhhhhh!”  Brainy only just turned away from Director Danvers, instead sneezing on one of his monitor screens.  Sniffing as he rubbed his nose with the back of his wrist, he said, “it’s beyond by codtrol.”

Director Danvers’s face contorted in a way that suggested pain, which Brainy found unexpected.  “No, I get it,” she told him quickly.  “No need to apologize.”

“Dearly,” Brainy clarified.  He used another tissue to wipe his screen.  “I will apologize for by idability-” (the phlegm in his throat was causing him discomfort; he cleared it) “-to reliably cover by bouth before sdeezing or coughing.  At present, I successfully adticipate odly sixty-six percent of sdeezes, a figure that reduces to a bere fifty-eight percent where coughig is codcerd.”  He sniffed.  “Id codsiderashud of other agents, I recobbend that- that I…”  His nose was itching uncomfortably.  Brainy pressed the back of his hand to his mouth.  “hihhhhhhh-SHIAAAHHHHHH!”  He rubbed his nose with his thumb.  “That I adopt the use of a sterile bask for the durashud of the illdess.”

There was a twitch at the side of Director Danvers’s mouth.  She said, “That’s a nice thought, Brainy, but sneezing into a mask is gonna get real messy real fast.”

“…I did dot thidk of that.”  The concession was almost painful to make; Brainy sputtered into a cough.

Director Danvers spoke on – “Don’t worry about the other agents; they’re big boys and girls.  I’ll just warn everybody to approach your station at their own risk” – but Brainy scarcely heard her.

“I should have…” he murmured.  Another itch of impending sneeze; Brainy threw his arm up this time.  “haaahhhhh-SHIAHHHHHH!”

“Bless you,” Director Danvers remarked, a nonsensical Earth ritual phrase that was curiously areligious, considering its origins.  “What were you saying?”

Brainy sniffed, swiping the back of his hand beneath his nose.  He cleared his throat.  “I should have thought of that,” he repeated, low.

“Don’t sweat it,” Director Danvers insisted.  “No one’s at their best when they’re sick.”

True, perhaps, but Brainy liked to think his less-than-best was considerable better than that.  He cleared his throat again and brought up the schematics the DEO’s tranquilizer guns on one of his monitors.  “I should resube by work,” he decided.

“Suit yourself,” Director Danvers replied with a forceful exhale.  “When you’ve got a mock-up, let me know, all right?”

Brainy nodded, sniffing as he peered into the screen of the primitive technology taking up space on his desk (in all earnestness, how did they live like this?)  His nose itched and he rubbed it hard with his finger, determined not to let it distract him from his task.

“AHHHHHH-hehhhhhh-chiooooo!”

Brainy took a tissue from his box and blew his nose.  As humans were fond of saying, such things may prove easier said than done.

 

[angora48]

 

Here's Part 4.  🙂

 

From the second Brainy had opened his mouth that morning, Alex had known something was out of whack.  She’s remembered, of course, that he was getting a cold and had noted as he came in that he looked okay.  But one word, and it was obvious he felt positively crappy (not that Brainy had, or ever was likely to, use the word “crappy” in his life.)  Stuffed up, with a low, scratchy voice and a cough.  Alex hoped he’d stopped keeping a running tally of his sneezes, because she was pretty sure he’d sneezed more by about 9:30 than he had the whole previous day.

Still, he looked fine – perfectly fine, in fact, and every time Alex saw his healthy-looking face and heard his evident cold-voice, it threw her all over again.  At first, she could make no sense of it.  Not that she expected Brain to look like death warmed over at this point, but given how sick he sounded, she would’ve expected him to look it at least a little.

She briefly toyed with the idea that it was an AI thing, but that didn’t really follow.  After all, while Brainy’s artificial intelligence was probably responsible for how detachedly he seemed to regard his cold, he wouldn’t have gotten it in the first place if it weren’t for the organic rest of his body.

Except.  The body Brainy had wasn’t the body Alex typically saw.  The real one was blue with a shock of platinum hair.  The one Alex was currently looking at?  A holographic overlay.  It look way too long for Alex to realize it, that it was Brainy’s image inducer creating the disconnect (the thought “thank god Winn’s not here,” as a rule, never crossed Alex’s mind, but in that moment, she was glad he hadn’t witnessed her being so slow on the uptake.)

By mid-morning, Alex was tired of the mental whiplash.  It was time to call in a professional.

 

*         *         *

 

Lena stepped into the DEO with her usual mix of fascination, curiosity, and slight apprehension.  She loved seeing the technology here, which constantly sparked new ideas for her, but any hush-hush government organization was bound to bring with it a sense of distrust.  Them distrusting her?  Her distrusting them?  Both?  Any way you sliced it, it always made her just a little on edge.

Usually, whenever the DEO wanted Lena to liaise with them, there was a major problem of the alien variety and an urgent need for some sort of STEM solution.  High-pressure situations that demanded results in order to save lives.  Today’s request wasn’t quite so dire.

“Hey,” Alex said, coming to greet Lena, “thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” Lena replied.  When Alex had called, asking if there was a way to make an image inducer reflect how the wearer was feeling, Lena had been confused at first.  Image inducers were designed to show a full range of emotions, so if one wasn’t showing any expression, you were probably dealing with either a malfunctioning inducer or a very stoic alien, and she’d told Alex as much.

But Alex had said, “No, not emotionally – I mean physically.”

Now, as they walked briskly down the hall together, Alex said, “Sorry to bother you with this.  It’s just –”

“It’s no problem,” Lena assured her.

“I know it’s a little thing,” Alex went on, “but he’s never had a cold before, so I’m trying to keep an eye on him, and I don’t want to miss something because he looks fine.”

“You’re doing me the favor, really,” Lena insisted.  “It’s an oversight in the program, and this will help me get started on an upgrade.”

When she designed the image inducer, Lena hadn’t thought to incorporate changes in physical condition, and she should have.  A cold was one thing, but what about alien diseases?  If an alien like Brainy could catch a cold, what non-terrestrial diseases might humans be vulnerable to?  No, it was an oversight Lena had better remedy sooner rather than later.

“Brainy,” Alex called as she and Lena approached Brainy’s station, which Lena noticed was littered with balled-up tissues.

Brainy turned.  “Yes?” he began, then, seeing Lena, added, “Leda Luthor.  I wasd’t aware you were cobing.”  He turned back to Alex.  “Director Dadvers, while Biss Luthor p- po- HAAAHHHHHHH-shiiooooo!”  He sneezed explosively, holding a hand to his face.  “-Possess ad adbirable idtellect for a hubad,” he took a tissue from one of two boxes on his desk, “I’be udsure of your ability to gauge whether or dot a task poses a great eduff challenge-” he turned, coughing half-into his shoulder.  “-That I would require her assistadce.”  Without preamble, he blew his nose, then tossed the Kleenex onto his desk.

“I see what you mean,” Lena commented.  “The conflicting auditory and visual cues – makes it hard to wrap your head around.”

Brainy looked a little taken aback by this, which Lena admittedly found satisfying; she imagined Alex did, too.  “You’ve dot givedd be all the relevant idforbayshud,” he pointed out.  He rubbed his nose and sniffled.

“You don’t look as sick as you sound,” Alex explained.  “It’s your inducer.  Lena’s gonna try and fix that.”

“I see,” Brainy replied.  He sniffled again.  “Why?”

“Because it’s driving me crazy,” Alex told him, her mouth crooking into an amused smile.

Brainy nodded.  “V- hihhhhh-ehhhhhh-SHUHHHHHHH!” he sneezed into his hands.  “Very well.”

“Let’s set up in the infirmary,” Lena said.  “I’ll need your vitals.”

“All right,” Brainy said.  He picked up a tablet and one of the tissue boxes from his desk and, tucking the box under his arm, led her down another hall.

Soon, Brainy was sitting rather disinterestedly on an examination table while Lena hooked him up to a heartrate monitor and a few other machines.  “Alex said this is your first cold,” she remarked.  “What do you make of it?”

“Everything is proceeding withid expected parabeters,” Brainy told her.  He coughed.

As Lena took a seat a little apart from him (she’d noticed Brainy wasn’t all that diligent about covering his mouth) and opened her laptop, she frowned curiously.  “How does your artificial intelligence interface with your organic body?” she asked.

Brainy sniffed hard; he grabbed a Kleenex.  “Why do you ask?” he countered.  “The idforbayshud will aid be id adswering your query id a way you udderstad.”  He wiped his nose, balled up the tissue, and dropped it beside him on the examination table.

“I mean, how does your mind process your symptoms?” Lena asked, ignoring the shot at her comprehension skills.  “Does it experience them as pain, discomfort…?”

“Of course,” Brainy replied.  Drawing in a sharp breath, he took another tissue.  “ahhhhhh-CHIUHHHHHHH!”

“Well, if you don’t mind my saying, you seem a little indifferent,” Lena told him.

“I ab ebbidently practical, Leda Luthor,” Brainy informed her.  “The cobbud cold is characterized by sdeezing, coughing, fatigue, o- uhhhhh-ISHHHHHH-ehhhhhh!”  He wiped his nose with his palm and sniffed.  “-Overproductshud of bucus, sore – hehhhhhh… ihhhhhh-huhhhhhhh-CHOOOOOO!”  He half-covered it this time, into the back of his hand.  “-Throat, ad headache.  I ab experiedcing all of the above, therefore, there is duthing out of the ordidary add doh cause for codcerd.”

“If you say so,” Lena replied.  She tapped keys busily, inputting data into her program.  “Give me a few more minutes, and I should have enough data to start writing a patch for you.”

“I very sidcerely do dot care,” Brainy told her.

Why was that not a surprise?  “Later, I’ll go back and do a more thorough addition that will be available with the next full upgrade,” she went on.  “What I’m doing now is just a quick and dirty fix – it might be a bit glitchy, but it’ll get the job done.”

Brainy suddenly straightened.  “That wod’t be decessary,” he announced.

Lena frowned.  “What?”

“If Director Dadvers deeds to doh how I’be feeling, I cad tell her,” Brainy insisted.  He started gathering up his things, leaving his discarded tissues.  “I would prefer dot to comprobise the idtegrity of by ibbage idducer.”

Of course – he’d had a nasty run-in with some humans a while back, when Mercy Graves had hacked into Lena’s system and begun switching off inducers remotely.  Lena should have remembered that.  “Brainy, wait,” she said.  Brainy paused, but he looked skeptical.

“You’re right, of course,” Lena told him.  “I wasn’t thinking.”

“A cobbud shortcobing abbung hubads,” Brainy noted.  “hihhhhhh-ehhhhhhhh-SHOOOOOO!”

Lena decided to let that remark pass.  “Tell you what,” she said.  “With the next upgrade, this will be fully integrated into the program, but for now, I’ll make it an optional feature you can turn on and off.  Okay?”

Brainy frowned thoughtfully.   “So it could be deactivated upo-” he broke off, coughing into his fist.  “-Upod leaving the DEO, thus restoring the full effectivedess of the ibbage idducer?”

“Right,” Lena confirmed.

Brainy considered this for a moment, then put his things back down on the examination table.  “That will be acceptable.”

Lena nodded.  “Okay,” she said, returning to her work.  Brainy might be indifferent to being sick, but clearly, he wasn’t indifferent to everything.

Before long, Lena had what looked to be a workable patch.  While most of her alien users had a separate, wearable device, Brainy’s inducer was purely software, uploaded directly to his artificial intelligence.  Now, Lena worked her new patch into it and said, “All right, let’s see what we’ve got.”  She had Brainy reboot the program, and the hologram flickered briefly before layering itself back over his natural blue appearance.

Nothing yet, but…  “The update needs a few minutes to calibrate to the information it’s getting from your body,” Lena explained.  “It should equalize soon.”

Gradually, the hologram began making minute shifts in its image.  Brainy’s complexion paled slightly, with a bit of a reddish tinge around the rims of his nostrils and the suggestion of dark circles under his eyes.  Lena texted Alex, and when the director came to the infirmary a couple minutes later, she gave Brainy a once-over and said, “That’s more like it.”

Brainy plucked a tissue from his box.  “If everything is to your satisfactshud, I’ll returd to by duties,” he said, wiping his nose and dropping the tissue on the examination table as he stood up.  At the door, he turned to give Lena a brief nod.  “Leda Luthor.  It was dot udpleasant to watch you work.”

“Feel better, Brainy,” Lena replied.

Brainy nodded again.  “Id six to eight days, I idtedd to,” he informed her, then headed off down the hall.

 

[Reader]

Ahhh I missed two parts! I don’t usually come into the fanfiction section. You gotta start tagging me. And I can’t even read it right now because I have to get up and go. 😩 I’ll be back. I’m excited to read it!!

🤩

[Reader]

On 1/19/2019 at 9:22 AM, angora48 said:

“You’ll fide you save codsiderable tibe, eddergy, and, id this case, buddy, if you operate udder the assumpshud that I thidk of everything,” Brainy told her.  He sneezed, a strong “AHHHHH-shiiuuuhhhh!”, and took a tissue from his own box before placing it on his desk beside the one Director Danvers purchased.

You write so well in that clinical, Brainy-esque manner throughout the narration. That’s just an amazing skill. This paragraph above describes him so well. I snorted in laughter. 

The uncovered sneezes were lovely and somehow you even tapped into another of my preferences which is consideration when Brainy apologizes for it and suggests a mask. But yea, glad that Danvers turned him down 😇 

Your descriptions of his cold were so realistic and hot! 

On 1/19/2019 at 9:22 AM, angora48 said:

I did dot thidk of that.”  The concession was almost painful to make; Brainy sputtered into a cough.

 

 Director Danvers spoke on – “Don’t worry about the other agents; they’re big boys and girls.  I’ll just warn everybody to approach your station at their own risk” – but Brainy scarcely heard her.

 

“I should have…” he murmured.  Another itch of impending sneeze; Brainy threw his arm up this time.  “haaahhhhh-SHIAHHHHHH!”

 

“Bless you,” Director Danvers remarked, a nonsensical Earth ritual phrase that was curiously areligious, considering its origins.  “What were you saying?”

 

Brainy sniffed, swiping the back of his hand beneath his nose.  He cleared his throat.  “I should have thought of that,” he repeated, low.

This part was so vulnerable and cute. And then a bit later, the arrogance comes back when he thinks his worst should be better than anyone’s best 😏

Next part: 

13 hours ago, angora48 said:

Except.  The body Brainy had wasn’t the body Alex typically saw.  

I realized this too as you were explaining her realization. That’s such a cool concept! 

And I love that Danvers wants to keep an eye on him without being too obvious at this point. 

The hitching nearly killed me. 🤩 I’m reading this cool, technical jargon and then my fetishy side barrels me over with all the hitching, sneezes, and coughing. 

The transformation paragraph was so neat. I loved how it gradually came on. 

And aww he panicked a bit about being hacked again. 

Great chapters!! Thank you so much! 

[20andsickfic]

This was AMAZING!!!

[Elyze]

There are so many great things in here. I love how he thinks he knows what having a cold will be like just because he knows the facts and typical symptoms, but then actually experiencing it is not exactly the same. I love his calculative nature and how everything can be expressed in numbers and probabilities. I especially love the issue with the image inducer, very clever. 

17 hours ago, angora48 said:

“Leda Luthor.  It was dot udpleasant to watch you work.”

 

“Feel better, Brainy,” Lena replied.

 

Brainy nodded again.  “Id six to eight days, I idtedd to,” he informed her, then headed off down the hall.

I find exchanges like this are so funny. That must be a huge compliment coming from him and then again the numbers of the likely duration of the illness. 

[angora48]

 

Thanks so much for the comments, everyone - it's so much fun to play around with/torture Brainy, and I'm glad other people are enjoying it as much as I am.  😉  And @Reader, I really like that dynamic of Brainy being generally arrogant and occasionally vulnerable, so I knew I wanted to throw in some of that.

Part 5 - getting more into plot stuff now.  As usual with the alien plots in my sci-fi sickfics, kindly ignore whatever is totally nonsensical in my silly science, haha.

 

The rest of the day was as light as the one before, with no major threats, incidents, or curiosities to handle.  Alex kept herself busy, knowing that the lull would end sooner rather than later, and when it did, she’d appreciate having the more mundane aspects of the job taken care of.

And sure enough, the next morning, Alex arrived to find Col. Haley gathering everyone together in the main hub, which inevitably meant business.  As it turned out, they’d gotten a message from the NCPD with something to occupy them.

“Last night, a Rausch-Kleinberg original valued at 2.4 million dollars was stolen from the National City Gallery,” Haley explained.  “This is what was captured on the security tapes.”  She threw the image onto the large view screen, black-and-white footage of the painting hanging on the wall.  A murmur rose up among the assembled agents as a pair of arms suddenly appeared to rise out of the floor, lift the painting from the wall, and then disappear again as the painting, lying face-up on the floor, gently glided away.  Alex blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

As did everyone else.  “How did it do that?” exclaimed Agent Marcus.  “Is it invisible?”

“An invisible alien still would’ve tripped the motion sensors,” Agent Lau pointed point.

“And why would its arms become visible right as it was stealing the painting?” Agent Lennix added.

“Looks like it came through the floor,” Agent Schultz observed.  “Could it have opened a portal of some kind?”

Amid the speculations, there came a certain stuffed-up voice declaring plainly, “He’s a Kovecki.”  Everyone turned to Brainy, who rubbed his nose with a sniffle.

“How can you tell?”

“Have you seen these things before?”

“What do you mean ‘he’?”

“How’d it do that?”

“Is it dangerous?”

Haley held up a hand to quiet them.  “Agent Dox?” she said.

Brainy rose from his desk, taking a Kleenex box with him as he walked up to the large screen beside Haley.  Alex tensed, as she always did when Brainy interacted too directly with Haley.  Haley had to know Brainy was an alien – it was in his file, plus she’d spent more than half an hour with him, which was enough time for anyone to realize he was an alien – but Alex liked to avoid reminding her of that fact whenever possible. 

Brainy rubbed his nose again, and his image inducer flickered for a split second; Alex gritted her teeth.  “I idedtified the perpetrator as a Kovecki because they’re the odly species I’be-” he coughed into the back of his hand, “-aware of that is bolecularly dydabbic; I’ve edcoudtered several bef-”

“Hold on,” Haley ordered.  “What was that?  Molecular…?”

“Bolecularly dydabbic,” Brainy repeated.  “I’ve edcountered several –”

“What is ‘molecularly dynamic’?” Alex prompted.

Brainy looked at the stumped faces around him.  “Ah.  You’re udfabbiliar.”  He sneezed, a strong “huhhhhhh-CHIOOOOOO!” into his fist.  “Kovecki’s udique phyigdoby allows theb to shift the space betweed their atobs at will, whi- hihhhhhh-ehhhhh-shiaaahhhhhhh!”  The sneeze caught him offguard, and he blinked a little in surprise.  Haley took a step back from him, and Alex noticed the sour look on her face.  “-Which edables theb to assube different states of batter,” Brainy resumed.

Backing up the video to before the arms appeared, he pointed to what looked like a slight discoloration on the floor.  “Clearly, he approached the paidting id a liquid state, thed solidi- solidified t- to…”  He wasn’t going to finish his sentence before the sneeze got the better of him – he sneezed a wet “haahhhh-SHIUHHHHH!” into his hand.  “-Reboove it frob the wall,” he concluded.

There was a long beat of perplexed silence.  “Wait – it turned itself into water?” Agent Lennix asked.

Brainy gave her a dubious look.  “Of course dot,” he said, taking a Kleenex from his box.  “Wud bobedt.”  He blew his nose.  (If Brainy didn’t seem all that bothered by having a cold, he also wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about it – Alex wished he could have at least a smidgeon of self-consciousness, especially when he was standing right next to Haley.)  Letting the tissue fall to the floor when he was finished with it (why, Brainy??), he continued.  “Kovecki do dot chadge the physical elebents frob which they’re bade, odly the space betweed thei-” he sputtered with a cough, “-their bolecules.  He did dot ‘becobe water.’  He rebaid a Kovecki, berely-” he sniffled a few times, “-wud id a liquid state.”

“Like Kovecki soup,” Alex suggested.

“Ad ibprecise cobparisod, but if it helps you grasp th- the cod… cept…”  Brainy grabbed a tissue and sneezed again.  “IHHHHHH-hehhhhh-shuhhhhhh!”

Alex was ready this time.  She moved to Brainy’s station and grabbed the wastebasket she’d rather pointedly put there the day before.  As Brainy wiped his runny nose with the Kleenex, she held the wastebasket out to him before he could drop it on the floor; she very pointedly did not make eye contact with Haley.

“Dow, to resube with your origidal questchuds,” Brainy continued, “I’ve edcountered several Kovecki before, although dot id this cedtury; I believe ‘how he did that’ is sufficiedtly explaid by by earlier descripshud of-” he cleared his throat, wincing almost imperceptibly, “-bolecular dydabbisib, add, ub…”  He trailed off, frowning.  “You’ve idterrupted be so baddy tibes I doh logger recall the rest of your idqueries.”

That was an excuse if Alex had ever heard one.  To the extent that Brainy did seem to care about being sick, it was that his symptoms made it harder for him to concentrate.  Alex wasn’t surprised he was having trouble – now that, thanks to Lena, Brainy’s image inducer was taking his cold into consideration, it was plainly written across his face that he was sick, and he had to be feeling miserable, no matter how blasé he acted about it.

“Is it dangerous?” Haley asked.

“If he possesses a weapod or cobbat skills,” Brainy replied.  “His udique physical properties are a defedsive, dot offensive, adaptashud.”

“But if it – he – can become liquid,” Agent Schultz argued, “he could, I don’t know, he could shove his fist in your mouth and then turn it to liquid and drown you with it.”

“He could buh- ehhhhhhhh-SHIAAAHHHHHHH!” Brainy sneezed towards the floor.  “-But he wouldd’t.”

“And how do you know that – because he’s just so nice?” Agent Marcus asked.  “Not all aliens are fluffy bunnies, you know!”

Brainy frowned.  “Doh alieds are fluffy buddies,” he countered.  “Rabbits add their offsprig, fluffy or otherwise, are iddigidous to Earth.”

“Sarcasm, Agent Dox,” Alex supplied (when Haley was around, Alex also liked to avoid reminders that Brainy was actually called “Brainiac-5” – even as a superhero moniker, it sounded blatantly non-human.)

“Ah,” Brainy said.  He sniffled wetly.

“So why do you maintain that this Kovecki isn’t dangerous?” Haley pressed.

“His bolecular dybbabisb isn’t dangerous,” Brainy clarified.  “A Kovecki could id theory drowd you with his fist, but his fist would thed be stuck id your lugs, with doh expedient way to retrieve it.  Pragbatically speaking, a waste of a useful appeddage.”

Haley still looked skeptical, but it made sense to Alex.  “No special dangers to be aware of, then,” she agreed.

“Correct,” Brainy said.  “The greater challenge will- wih…. Ehhhhhh-hihhhhhhh-uhhhhhhh-chiaahhhhhhh!”  He held an arm up to his face; he sniffled.  “-Will be ascertaiding how to apprehedd add codtaid hib.”

Good point; handcuffs wouldn’t work on something that can turn to liquid or gas.  “Good work Agent Dox – you get started on that,” Alex instructed.  “We also need a way to identify our suspect.  Shultz, you grab some people to review that security footage.”

“Agent Ortega, take a team to the gallery,” Haley added.  “See if there’s anything more you can find out there.  And we need a team to canvas alien-heavy neighborhoods – someone must know something…”  On it went, allotting tasks until everyone was going their separate ways.

“Is Agent Dox actively attempting to infect the entire DEO, or is it just working out that way?” Haley muttered to Alex as the agents began to scatter.

“He’s honestly doing the best he can,” Alex assured her, but it still didn’t feel like she was helping his case much.  It also didn’t help that Brainy’s image inducer flickered again as, blowing his nose, he headed back to his station.  “…I’ve had him working on solo projects, so his contact with other agents has been limited,” she added hastily.

“Let’s keep it that way,” Haley told her.  Throwing one last unpleasant look Brainy’s way, she took off down the hall.

Brainy, naturally, hadn’t taken the wastebasket back to his station with him.  Rolling her eyes, Alex picked up the wastebasket and headed over to him.  “Still say a cold is a ‘minor illness’?” she asked.

“Objectively,” Brainy replied.  “Cobpared to balaria, hubad ibbudo-“ he coughed, pressing the back of his hand to his mouth, “-ibbudodeficiency virus, eeved idfluedza, the cobbud cold is by far the least objectshudable.  Hehhhh… ihhhhhhh…”  Alex took a Kleenex from the box and handled it to him just in time for a strong “ahhhhh-SHOOOOO-uhhhhhh!”  He sniffled wetly.  “Add that’s without codsidering illdesses that have bed largely elibidated by your tibe.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there,” Alex conceded with a smirk.  “Having a cold is better than having the bubonic plague.”

“Exact… l… IHHHHH-shiuhhhhhhhhh!” Brainy sneezed again.

Alex felt a sympathetic smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.  “But that doesn’t make it feel any better, does it?” she noted.

Brainy squared his shoulders.  “It’s a trifling irritashud,” he said, sniffling.

That’s not the story your image inducer is telling, Alex thought.  It was obvious that blowing his nose half the day yesterday hadn’t done him any favors; his nose was chapped red and looked painfully sore.

But, it was also obvious she wasn’t going to get him to own up to anything.  “Hey, how did you know the Kovecki was a ‘he’?” Alex asked, changing the subject.  “There can’t be too much that’s distinctive about a pair of arms.”

Brainy looked at Alex as if she’d just asked how he’d worked out 2 + 2.  “Kovecki bales have ad oradge hue, while febales are yellow,” he said, and before Alex had time to point out that the security tape was black-and-white, he added, “a febale would have appeared lighter od the screed.”

Okay, score one for Brainy.  “Good work.”  Alex told him.  “Keep me updated on finding a way to contain him, okay?”

“AHHHHH-shhhhhh!  ihhhhhh-CHOOOOOOO!” Brainy sneezed.  With a congested swallow, he grabbed another Kleenex.  “Udderstood.”

Alex wanted to tell him not to work too hard, but she was pretty sure it wouldn’t do any good.

 

[Reader]

I feel like I’m watching the show. This is really cool. I loved how Brainy was introduced in this part with everyone questioning and him popping up with the stuffiness. Loved the funny bits in this part with the gender of the arms and Haley’s mutterings. Still feeling tortured when you slip in all that hitching and sneezing between words. Breaks my concentration for sure 😆 but I love it! This is an awesome read whether the fetishy parts are in there or not! Brainy is so stubborn. Let’s see what else you throw at him until he succumbs 😄 

[angora48]

 

Thanks, @Reader.  Especially with genre fandoms, I often like to do a story with a full plot instead of just straight fluff, H/C, whatever.  I like trying to make the fic feel a little more like an actual episode, and it's fun when the sick character is busy and has an at-least semi-valid excuse not to stay in bed.  We're gonna have to wear Brainy down a lot more before he gives in!  👹

Here's Part 6!

 

Brainy had never had cause to apprehend a Kovecki before, and inventing a means of doing so proved a challenge.  By late afternoon, he’d run through nine different hypotheses, testing simulations in his head, to no avail.

The matter was made more difficult by his common cold symptoms, which frequently interrupted his train of thought and drew his focus from the task at hand.  He’d stopping maintaining a count of his sneezes the day before, but he had a sense that he was outpacing his original estimation.  That, coupled with the fact that his mucus was beginning to drain down the back of his throat and on occasion unpleasantly dislodged itself when he coughed, made him question whether the two tissue boxes he’d procured would see him to the end of the illness.  It was possible he would eventually need to make use of the third box Director Danvers had provided for him (if so, he would not tell her, but he suspected she would still notice, as she seemed to take an inordinate level of interest in his ill health.)

As though she were summoned by his thought of her (a fanciful notion – it was in fact mere coincidence,) Director Danvers approached Brainy’s station.  “Here,” she said in a low tone, placing a steaming mug on Brainy’s desk.  She looked at Brainy’s monitor screens, all of which bore a few scattered notes and nothing more.  “You know you’ll have to input something eventually, right?  Haley gets squirrelly when she asks about your math and you tell her you did it all in your head.”

“Whed there’s sobethig to idput, I will,” Brainy replied.  He glanced at the mug.  “I dislike the taste of coffee.”

“It’s tea,” Director Danvers told him.

Brainy paused to sneeze – a forceful “hihhhh-UHHHHHHH-shiaahhhhhh!” – before reaching for the mug and taking an experimental swallow.  “I dislike the taste of tea bore thad I dislike th-” he coughed, pressing his forearm to his mouth, “-the taste of coffee.”

“Suck it up; it’s good for you,” Director Danvers replied.

Although Brainy’s throat was inflamed, the warm tea was admittedly less uncomfortable to swallow than the sandwich he’d consumed on his lunch break.  So, he took another drink, grimacing chiefly at the taste and only slightly at the pain in his throat.  “How’s it going?” Director Danvers asked him.

“Udsuccessfully,” Brainy answered.  “The task ih- ihhh…”  His speech was interrupted, not by a sneeze or a cough, but by a substantial yawn.  Blinking in an attempt to make himself more alert, he continued, “-is a puzzling wud.”

“No kidding,” Director Danvers said, an Earth English remark that, somehow, was meant to convey agreement.  “You look beat.”

“The word is ‘beated’, add I assure you, it d- d…”  It was a sneeze this time.  “AHHHHHH-shioooooo!”  Brainy’s top lip felt damp, but sniffing would likely drive more mucus down his throat, and the friction of frequently blowing his nose was causing further discomfort.  Opting for the tissue as the less unpleasant of the two options, he touched it gingerly to his nostrils.

“…Brainy?” Director Danvers said after a brief silence between them, and Brainy realized he’d not finished voicing his thought.

What had he been saying?  Brainy’s eyelids seemed uncharacteristically heavy, and he labored to focus.  “I, ub… beated!” he said, seizing on his earlier remark.  “I assure you, Director Danvers, it isd’t a word that applies to be.”  He sniffed, forgetting his prior decision against it, and winced as mucus clogged his throat.  He turned his head to cough into his shoulder.

“Yeah, except I did mean ‘beat’,” Director Danvers replied, “as in tired.  How’d you sleep last night?”

This was, Brainy conceded, a fair observation.  “I had difficulty stayig asleep,” he admitted.  “By dose…”  As though by demonstration (but again, mere coincidence,) Brainy felt a strong itch in his nose; he brought a hand to his mouth.  “hihhhhhh-CHIIAAHHHHHH!”

Director Danvers showed her teeth, but it did not look like a smile.  “Yeah, that’s rough,” she said.  “And you’re sure you can’t take anything for it?”

She had already made this inquiry yesterday; she was not truly asking but rather had disliked Brainy’s previous answer and was irrationally hoping for a different one.  “I exabbid the idgrediedts f- EHHHHHH-choooooo-uhhhhhh!”  He pressed his thumb to his nose, not wanting to rub it.  “For eleved cobbud cold beddicids, add –”

“– And none were compatible with Coluan biology, I know,” Director Danvers finished.

“Eight would have proved harbful,” Brainy reminded her.

Director Danvers exhaled heavily.  “That sucks,” she said.  “If you can get the cold, the medicine should be able to help you.”

“Biology is dot a- AHHHHH-shioooooo! – as straightforward as that,” Brainy told her.

“If only,” Director Danvers replied.  It was a half-statement that added nothing to the conversation, so Brainy didn’t respond to it.

Instead, he took another swallow of his unappealing but mildly-soothing tea.  “Whed I fide a solushud to codtaidig the Kovecki, I’ll,” he sniffed, grimacing, “idforb you.”

“Sure,” Director Danvers said.  “Hey, so I was looking through the entry on Kovecki that you’d put in the alien database, and it said that their senses are really limited when they shift out of a solid state?”

“Whed they shift fully ou-out…” Brainy corrected, trailing off as he began coughing.  It brought with it a pain in his chest as well as his throat.  When he resumed speaking, he rubbed his chest with a light circular motion using the side of his thumb.  “If they wadt to baidtaid their senses of hearig, sight, etc., their ears, eyes, add the like deed to rebaid solid.”

“Right, and I didn’t see any eyes or ears on that security tape,” Director Danvers went on.  “So I’m thinking, how did our guy find his way around the gallery?”

This was a cogent point, and Brainy was displeased not to have thought of it himself.  “He would still have a libbited tactile sedse…” he mused.

“How limited, though?” Director Danvers asked.  “Like, he wouldn’t be about to say, ‘Go forward 25 feet, then take a left,’ and feel along well enough to measure that, would he?”

It was unfair of her to continue making well-reasoned points before Brainy when his ability to focus was slightly compromised.  “He could dot have s- hihhhh-SHUUUHHHHHH!” Brainy sneezed, only just having presence of mind enough to turn away from Director Danvers.  He wiped his nose on the back of his hand.  “-Said addythig, as he did dot have a bouth.”

Director Danvers smiled with only the corner of her mouth.  “Brainy, did you just tell a joke?”

“I’be a techdo-orgaddic of baddy talents,” Brainy replied.  “But you’re correct.  The Kovecki’s sedse of touch id a liquid state w- wou…”  This sneeze, he was able to anticipate; he covered his mouth with his hand.  “ehhhhhh-hehhhhhh-CHOOOOO! – would dot be sophisticated eduff to gauge distadce.”  He sniffed, carefully so as not to significantly redistribute his mucus.

Nodding, Director Danvers asked, “So what could he feel?”

“Chadges id the surface bedeath hib, a vague doshud of-” Brainy coughed, “-heat or chill, dud of which would have had addy relevadce to- doh, wait…” Following a theory, Brainy brought up the security recording from the gallery onto one of his screens.  He began playback, turning to give a congested cough into his shoulder.

Brainy thought he may have spotted what he was looking for, but it was not clear enough to be certain – 21^st-century Earth surveillance was criminally inadequate.  Sniffing, he paused the recording, selected a portion of the screen, and blew up and enhanced the image.  “There!” he said.

Director Danvers leaned over Brainy’s shoulder to peer at the image, glancing briefly at him when he sniffed again and rubbed his nose.  “What is that…?” she said in a low voice.

She saw it as well, a minute square upon the floor.  “Uddoad,” Brainy told her, “but there is- ihhhh…” He lifted the back of his hand to his face, and Director Danvers took a step back as he sneezed.  “huhhhh-IHHHHHH-shuhhhhh! – Ad eighty-five… ish percedt probability that it is a raised surface of sobe sort, adhered to the floor.”  He grabbed a tissue, balled it up in his hand, and gently touched it to his nose.

“Let me check something,” Director Danvers said, and Brainy stepped aside to allow her access to his computer.  She moved the video forward, skipping the Kovecki’s removal of the painting itself and instead following his departure.  They watched as the Kovecki, holding the painting just above the floor (Brainy theorized that the Kovecki’s fingertips were solidified beneath the canvas, so as not to get the painting wet,) began flowing away.  Though the painting obscured visibility somewhat, it looked to Brainy as though the Kovecki just reached the square on the floor when he turned to the right, proceeding through the open doorway into the next room.

“The video they sent us follows him out,” Director Danvers explained as the image changed.  “The painting stops outside the bathroom, then hands appear from under the door to take it out of the frame and slip the canvas under the door.”

“He likel- AHHHHHH-tchiiuhhhhh!”  Brainy held his fist to his mouth.  “Likely exited through a vedtilashud duct – ihhhhh-SHIOOOOOOO!  Uh- of…” Brainy’s nose was still itching; he brought both hands to his nose and mouth.  “hahhhhhhh-ihhhhhh-SHUHHHHH!  Ehhhhhh… hihhhhhh-ehhhhhhh-CHOOOOOO!”  He sniffed, then coughed.  “…Sobe kide.”

“Bless you,” Director Danvers told Brainy, making a pained expression, before pointing to another square upon the floor.  “Is that…?”  They watched the Kovecki again turn just as he passed over the square.

“Markers,” Director Danvers said.  “He put markers on the floor so he’d know when to turn.  He’s smart.”

“A clever respodse to the probleb,” Brainy agreed, clearing his throat.

“But that means he had to have been there before, to plant the markers,” Director Danvers reasoned, “and that means he needed eyes to see where to put them, so he would’ve been solid when he did it.  We can’t run facial recognition on a puddle, but if he had a face when he was there before…” She smiled.  “I have to call the gallery.  Thanks, Brainy.”

Brainy was feeling a new irritation in his nose, so he did not reply but merely nodded before sneezing a hard “EHHHHHHH-chioooooo!” into the back of his hand.  Director Danvers placed her hand briefly on Brainy’s shoulder and then continued onto her next task.  As Brainy prepared to resume his own duties, he grimaced at the uncomfortable pain in his throat, head, and nose.

 

[Reader]

17 hours ago, angora48 said:

The matter was made more difficult by his common cold symptoms, which frequently interrupted his train of thought and drew his focus from the task at hand. 

Yea cold symptoms do the same for me 😈😂

It was possible he would eventually need to make use of the third box Director Danvers had provided for him (if so, he would not tell her, but he suspected she would still notice, as she seemed to take an inordinate level of interest in his ill health.) Awww, this part is so adorable 

“Whed there’s sobethig to idput, I will,” Brainy replied.  He glanced at the mug.  “I dislike the taste of coffee.”

“It’s tea,” Director Danvers told him.

So cute 😊

Brainy paused to sneeze – a forceful “hihhhh-UHHHHHHH-shiaahhhhhh!” – 

🤩🤩🤩 

 

“No kidding,” Director Danvers said, an Earth English remark that, somehow, was meant to convey agreement.  “You look beat.”

Love this bit. It’s always fun when you really take a second look at English words. 

“The word is ‘beated’, add I assure you, it d- d…”  It was a sneeze this time.  “AHHHHHH-shioooooo!”  Brainy’s top lip felt damp, but sniffing would likely drive more mucus down his throat, and the friction of frequently blowing his nose was causing further discomfort.  Opting for the tissue as the less unpleasant of the two options, he touched it gingerly to his nostrils.

Awww this melted me. 

“…Brainy?” Director Danvers said after a brief silence between them, and Brainy realized he’d not finished voicing his thought.

 

What had he been saying?  Brainy’s eyelids seemed uncharacteristically heavy, and he labored to focus.  “I, ub… beated!” he said, seizing on his earlier remark.  “I assure you, Director Danvers, it isd’t a word that applies to be.”  He sniffed, forgetting his prior decision against it, and winced as mucus clogged his throat.  He turned his head to cough into his shoulder.

The melting continues

 

She had already made this inquiry yesterday; she was not truly asking but rather had disliked Brainy’s previous answer and was irrationally hoping for a different one.  

Loved how you worded this sentence

“If only,” Director Danvers replied.  It was a half-statement that added nothing to the conversation, so Brainy didn’t respond to it.

 Hahahahaha oh my goodness 

 

Director Danvers smiled with only the corner of her mouth.  “Brainy, did you just tell a joke?”

😂😂

 

She saw it as well, a minute square upon the floor.  “Uddoad,” Brainy told her, “but there is- ihhhh…” He lifted the back of his hand to his face, and Director Danvers took a step back as he sneezed.  “huhhhh-IHHHHHH-shuhhhhh! – Ad eighty-five… ish percedt probability that it is a raised surface of sobe sort, adhered to the floor.”  He grabbed a tissue, balled it up in his hand, and gently touched it to his nose.

 

“He likel- AHHHHHH-tchiiuhhhhh!”  Brainy held his fist to his mouth.  “Likely exited through a vedtilashud duct – ihhhhh-SHIOOOOOOO!  Uh- of…” Brainy’s nose was still itching; he brought both hands to his nose and mouth.  “hahhhhhhh-ihhhhhh-SHUHHHHH!  Ehhhhhh… hihhhhhh-ehhhhhhh-CHOOOOOO!”  He sniffed, then coughed.  “…Sobe kide.”

Dang this is sizzling! Yes please! 

 

 

 

(I typed in bold in your message above. It helps me, so I don’t have to remember where the parts are that I want to highlight.)

Wow, you thought of all this for your story??! This is very clever and cool! I really like how Danvers and Brainy figured it out together and it was all kinds of awws when Brainy was a bit upset and disgruntled by not having his full brain capacity. He’s so precious!

[angora48]

 

Brainy's just so much fun, isn't he?  I had a blast writing his parts, especially now that his cold is getting worse.

Part 7 - it's all starting to catch up with the poor techno-organic 😈

 

The gallery sent over more security footage from the last several days, and once all the Kovecki’s floor markers had been pinpointed, it was easy to focus the search on those particular spots.

Sure enough, earlier in the morning on the day on the robbery, Alex found footage of an alien man in all those places who matched the alien database’s images of Kovecki.  The man had long, light hair pulled back in a ponytail, and though his baseball cap cast a slight shadow on his face, Alex recognized the pronounced ridges on his cheekbones and the lightly-shaded look to his skin, which suggested it might be orange.

But that was nothing.  Much more importantly, at the point where each marker lay, he stood and scuffed his shoes for a moment.  Alex double-checked, and none of the markers were visible until just after he did that.  Once, he even dropped something directly afterward and, as he crouched to retrieve it, Alex definitely saw him pressing inconspicuously on the square.

Brainy was right.  They were little raised squares of something – plastic, maybe? – that the Kovecki had stuck to the bottom of his shoes and then stuck to the floor at strategic points.  And when he was done with all that, Alex saw him heading into the bathroom sometime later, where he conveniently never came out.  This was their guy.

From there it was a quick matter of running a facial recognition scan (no image inducer – Brainy pointed out that most Kovecki probably wouldn’t use them regularly, since they could only shift the molecules of their own bodies, nothing else, and an expensive device like an inducer was likely to get not-water damaged by a Kovecki’s quick shift to liquid.)  Krell Arr’lechia.  Arrived in 2014, a few theft convictions, but nothing like an art heist – he was branching out.

A sweep of Arr’lechia’s apartment was a bust, so a program was set up to alert the DEO the next time he showed up on a security camera or traffic cam.  By the next morning, though, he still hadn’t turned up.  While Alex would’ve like to get more forward momentum on this, they weren’t exactly ready for him, anyway.  Some of the vans had portable containment chambers in the back that ought to hold him just fine, but they had yet to figure out a way to get him inside one.  So even if they did find him, they couldn’t engage, not yet.

Alex was sending a pair of agents to a few alien enclaves with Arr’lechia’s picture to see if anyone knew his hangouts when she heard Brainy pound his fist on his desk.  “Why is everything useless id this cedtury?” he griped, his voice hoarse and thick with congestion; he coughed roughly.

Alex walked over to him.  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

“By twedty-svedth failed hyp- ehhhhh… ahhhhhh-hihhhhhh-CHIUHHHHH! – hypothesis,” he grumbled.  “You have doh techdology suitable,” he sniffled, “for by purposes.”

“You’ll get it,” Alex encouraged, but her stomach sank at the thought that they still didn’t have a way to catch Arr’lechia when they found him.

“I’be surroded by pribbative tridkets,” Brainy groused.  He closed his eyes as he rubbed his temple.

“Is your headache bothering you?” Alex asked sympathetically.

“Doh,” Brainy replied flatly; his image inducer flickered for a second as he sniffled.

Alex had to smile, just a little, at his sulky denial.  “You honestly expect me to believe you don’t have a headache?”

“That isd’t what you asked,” Brainy countered, pedantic.  “You asked if it bothered be.”

“Oh, so you have a headache, you just don’t mind it?” Alex said.  She was teasing, but only lightly; it was obvious that Brainy was feeling pretty awful.

“It would be illogical t- to…” Brainy’s breath hitched, and he grabbed a Kleenex.  “Uhhhhhhh-CHUHHHHHH!  Mbbb…” It wasn’t a moan, but it wasn’t too far off.  “-Codtract ad illdess add thed be- be- cobe… AHHHHHHH-shiuuuuhhhhhhh!”  He sniffled, wincing as he wiped his chapped nose.  “-Distressed or irritated at the presedce of-” he coughed into his hand, “-sybtobs doad to accobady that-” sniffle, “-illdness.”

“Wait, so now you’re saying you’re not irritated?” Alex asked innocently.  “Because I don’t think I buy that.”

“I didded’t say that either!” Brainy snapped.  Alex winced; she was trying to lighten the mood, but it was making him feel worse, not better.  “I said I’be dot irritated by the headache.  If I ab irri-” he coughed hard, “-irritated, it’s because you are willfully bisudderstaddig by ih- ihhhhh-SHOOOOOO-ehhhhhh!”  He sneezed into the back of his hand.  “-Idcredibly precise… lag… guage….”  His nose wasn’t done with him yet.  He sneezed twice more – “huhhhhhhh-CHIOOOOO!  Ehhhhhhh… hihhhhhhh… ihhhhhhh-SHUHHHHHH!” – into a fresh tissue.

“Brainy, put this down for now,” Alex told him.  “Take a break or work on something else.”

“I deed to deterbid how to apprehedd Krell Arr’lechia,” Brainy argued.  “Wudce he’s located, the DEO w- wih- hehhhhhh-CHIOOOOO!”  He swallowed a stuffed-up almost-groan.  “-Will require by solushud.”

“And you’ll figure it out, but not by banging your head against the wall,” Alex replied, adding, “It’s a metaphor, Brainy,” before he could contradict her.  “I’m serious – either you work on something else for at least half an hour or you take a break for at least 20 minutes.  What’s it gonna be?”

Brainy glowered at her, but he sulkily opened up his schematics for the improved tranq guns on one of his monitor screens.  “That’s more like it,” Alex said.  “Don’t work too hard.”  Double-checking that he didn’t switch as soon as she walked away, she felt slightly worried about catching Arr’lechia but knew she’d made the right call – that could wait.

 

[Reader]

 

Homina Homina Homina  Aroooga! Aroooga! This was a fantastic chapter! Rapid symptoms back to back definitely are my jam! 

Brainy was getting so upset and flustered. Danvers! 

 

[angora48]

 

Yeah, @Reader, I like it when Mr. "everything is logic and I'm not bothered by these human things" gets upset.  😈  As soon as I started writing a sickfic for Brainy, I knew I'd need a scene like that.  😉

Part 8!

 

When Alex checked in with Brainy again a bit later, he looked tired, pale, and sullen but wasn’t in nearly as bad a mood as he showed her his plans.  “I’ve deside ad idterface betweed by dew algorithib add-” he sniffled, rubbing his nose, “-the tradquilizer guds, via dew software that should be relatively sibple to idtegrate.”

“Nice work,” Alex told him.  “How does the gun know what type of alien it’s dealing with?”

“It’s voice-activated,” Brainy explained.  “Ih- ihhhf…”  He closed his eyes.  “haahhhhhh-CHOOOOO-uhhhhh!”  He sniffled, grimacing.  “If the agedt dabes the species, the prograb will respodd accordingly with the proper dose of tradquilizer.”

“Brainy, there are over 300 species in the database, and I’m pretty sure you’re the only DEO agent who can recognize all of them by sight,” Alex pointed out.

Brainy sighed, dragging a hand across his face; it was a gesture of exhaustion, and Alex felt for him.  “I did dot take the idadequacies of hubads into accoudt,” he admitted.

“See, it’s saying things like that that makes you so popular around here,” Alex told him.  “Anyway, don’t worry about it.  There’s no rush on this, so it won’t be a big deal to fix it.”

Brainy nodded, rubbing his throat sort of absentmindedly.  “I’ll deed to idstall a cabbera odto the gud scope, allowig the gud to capture its oad visual of addy hostile alied add access the algorithib frob there,” he reasoned.  “Wudce these correctshuds have bed bade, I th- th…” He turned, sneezing a hard-sounding “huhhhhhh-CHOOOOOO-ihhhhhh!” into his shoulder.  “-Thought the sabe pridcibple could be adapted f-” he coughed, “-for the stud guds as well.”

“I like it,” Alex said.  “If you’re in the zone, stay with this a little longer.  Otherwise, you can get back to our Kovecki problem.”

Brainy had pulled up the schematics for the stun guns and was now looking over them thoughtfully.  “Mbb hbb,” he mumbled, wincing a little as he rubbed his nose with the side of his thumb.

They managed to find some people who knew Arr’lechia and were perfectly willing to talk about him (it seemed he’d spent some time a couple years back selling suspect social security numbers, a venture that hadn’t earned him many friends,) but none of the intel turned up Arr’lechia himself.  It made Alex a little worried – since stealing a valuable painting upped the ante so much from anything he’d done before, did the big score suggest he was planning to leave town?  They might have a limited window for grabbing his guy.

It was a little after 1:00 when Brainy caught Alex walking down the hall.  “Director Dadvers!” he called hoarsely.

Alex turned.  Brainy was holding a tablet but manipulated it a little awkwardly, since he also had a Kleenex box tucked under one arm.  Though he still looked tired and sick, he’d mustered up more energy than Alex had seen from him in the last few days.  “You got something?” she asked hopefully.

“I had to wrog – it’s about tebperature,” Brainy told her.

“What?” Alex asked.

“The bolecular dydabisb,” Brainy said, probably unaware of just how hard he was to understand when he was this stuffed up.  “While Kovecki cad shift betweed states of batter at will, it’s bore cobbudly observed id reactshud to drabbatic chadges ih- ihhhhh… hahhhhhhh-CHIUHHHHHHH!”  His Kleenex box was held under the opposite arm of the hand holding the tablet, which meant he didn’t have a free hand to actually grab a Kleenex and instead sneezed onto the tablet screen.  Grimacing, he wiped it off on his pant leg, sniffling wetly.

Alex winced sympathetically.  “Bless you.”

Brainy nodded in acknowledgement, still sniffling.  “Id tebperature,” he said, “thus reducing the level of kiddetic edergy betweed-” sniffled, “-the bolecules.”

“Right – like water becoming ice in freezing temperatures,” Alex said.  “Basically with you so far.”

“Add so, by applying the correct baddipulayshud of tebperature, we cad force Krell Arr’lechia to assube the forb we… we dee-eed…”  This time, he passed the tablet off to Alex (she’d long since learned that hand sanitizer was a must to have around when Brainy was sick) so he could grab a tissue.  “hihhhhh-ehhhhhh-SHUHHHHH!”  His image inducer flickered.

Alex was getting what he was saying.  “So you mean we don’t need a way to hold him as a solid, a liquid, and a gas,” she said.  “We just need to keep him solid long enough to get him in a containment chamber, and then again into a cell once we transport him back to the DEO.”

“Precisely,” Brainy replied.  He coughed into the back of his hand.  He indicated the tablet, which displayed schematics for a new gun design.  “It woulded’t be difficult to-” he sniffled, dabbing at his nose with the Kleenex, “-create a gud that delivered a sustaid low-tebperature blast…”  He turned away from Alex and coughed.  “…But the effect could be achieved with a fire extigguisher as well.  The agedt would sibply deed to baidtaid a codtidued shot udtil Krell Arr’lechia w- wuhhhhh… ehhhhhhh-huhhhhhh-SHIAHHHHHH!”  He sniffled.  “…Was codtaid.  Ahhhhhh… hehhhhh-ihhh-uhhhhhh-SHOOOOOOO!”  The sneeze bent him double, and he sniffled hard as he straightened, a little unsteadily.

“This is great, Brainy,” Alex told him.  “Let’s get to work on the guns – we’ll keep the fire extinguishers in our back pocket in case he shows up before we’re ready, but I don’t want to tell Haley we’re gonna fight him with fire extinguishers unless we have to.  You’ve worked out everything we need to do?”

Brainy nodded, coughing into the back of his hand; he grimaced.  “I’ve doted dowd all the specificayshuds od by deside.”

“Perfect,” Alex replied.  “Then let’s head down to the weapons lab and get ready to catch a Kovecki!”

She hurried off down the hall, Brainy trailing after her.  “Did you notice how you came up with this idea after I made you work on something else?” Alex asked.  “It helped to clear your head, didn’t it?  You’re welcome.”

“The doshud was still by oad,” Brainy countered flatly.

“I dunno – I feel like I need a little credit here,” Alex teased.  “Why do you think, Twelfth Level Intellect?  4%  5?”

“I thidk you shoulded’t be task with quadtifyyig addyth-”  Brainy cut off, and Alex thought maybe he had to sneeze or cough, but she didn’t hear anything further.  Turning around, she saw that he’d stopped a foot or two behind her, one hand against the wall and looking uneasy.

“Hey,” Alex said, hurrying back to him.  “What’s the matter?”

Brainy grimaced.  “I feel… out of baladce,” he admitted.  Glancing down, he added, “By legs seeb to be shakig.”

“Dizzy spell,” Alex remarked with a wince.  “Come on.”

Taking Brainy by the shoulders, Alex guided him into the next room, which happening to be for training, and steered him to a chair.  “Sit,” she instructed gently.  Brainy did as she said.  “Put your head down,” she went on.  That one earned her a skeptical look, and she threw in a slightly-less-gentle “just do it” for good measure.

Brainy bent low, sneezing an explosive “HAHHHHHH-ihhhhhhh-CHIUHHHHHH!” toward the floor; Alex heard him sniffling and clearing his throat as she moved to the water cooler in the corner.  After filling a cup, she returned to Brainy and found him resting his elbows heavily on his knees, one hand covering his eyes.

Alex touched his shoulder lightly.  “Here,” she said, handing him the water when he looked up.

Brainy straightened up just enough to take a drink.  He turned his head, coughing.  “It’s clearing – I thidk,” he said.  As he drank some more water, Alex noticed the slight flush in his cheeks.  God, it was a good thing Lena had fixed that image inducer.  She brought the back of her hand to the side of Brainy’s neck; he didn’t feel warm to her, but then, he was an alien, so…

“Brainy, what’s your internal body temperature?” Alex asked.

Brainy looked completely drained.  “You’re codjecturig that I have a fever,” he noted dully, wiping his nose with the side of his hand.

“I’m conjecturing that you might,” Alex replied.

Brainy coughed hard into the back of his hand and took another drink.  “By hobeostasis tebperature is eighty-dide poidt…” He closed his eyes, grimacing.  “…Uh, just over eighty-dide degrees F- Faaaa… ahhhhhhh-SHIOOOOO!”  He only managed to half-lift a hand to his face.  “…Fahredheit.  I assube you wadt Fahredheit?”

“Hey, if you can give it to me that way, I’ll take it,” Alex told him, smiling.  “What about right now?  Do you know what your temperature is?”

“Ub…” Brainy closed his eyes again, pressing the back of his wrist to his forehead.  Alex was oddly charmed by the gesture – apparently techno-organics did that too.”Chadces of elevashud are sevedty… three?  Sevedty-four percedt?  But…” he grimaced, sniffling, “but I dod’t…”

“Hey, it’s fine if you don’t know,” Alex assured him.  “I can check it for you.  I’m just not super up on Coluan biology.  For all I know, you’ve got an internal monitoring system or something, in which case there’d be no point going to the infirmary for a thermometer.  But since you don’t…”  She gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  “Sit tight.  I’ll be right back.”

In a few minutes, Alex returned with a thermometer.  “Here we go,” she said.  Tucking Brainy’s hair behind his ear, she held the thermometer in his ear for a couple seconds, then checked the readout.  “91.1,” she announced.  Brainy’s surprised look didn’t escape her notice.  “Is that pretty high for you?”

“Doh,” Brainy replied.  “It’s berely a low fever.  B- but I… huhhhhhhh-SHUHHHHHH!  IHHHHH-hehhhhh-chiaahhhhh!”  His Kleenex box was on the floor by his feet; he bent to grab a fresh tissue.  Alex waited while he blew his nose and didn’t press it when he dropped the Kleenex on the floor.  “…I codfess it’s higher thad I’d adticipated.”

Alex nodded, understanding.  “Come on,” she said.  “I’ll take you home.”

Despite how drained he looked, Brainy managed to straighten up.  “That isd’t decessary,” he insisted, his face becoming blue for a split second as his image inducer flickered again.

“If you think I’m letting you use that flight ring,” Alex started.

But Brainy interrupted, ‘That isd’t what I-”  He broke off and shook his head, rubbing his temple.  Sniffling, he started again.  “The average hubad is perfectly capable of- EHHHHHHH-chiooooooo! – codtiduig to work after codtractig a cobbud cold,” he informed her, “add I’be far bore capable thad the-” he cleared his throat, “-average hubad.”

Who knew that colds caused increased ego? Alex thought wryly.  Still, he was clearly run down, so she didn’t give him any grief about it.  “Maybe, but the average human is used to getting colds – you’re not,” she pointed out.  “Not to mention, you can’t take anything for it.”

Alex could tell Brainy was wavering, but he hadn’t given in yet – stubbornness was a popular trait at the DEO.  “You d- dee… hehhhhhhh-ihhhhhhh-SHIUHHHHH!”  He sniffled, swallowing a groan.  “-Deed be to build the low tepberature guds,” he said.

“No, I needed you to figure out how to do it,” Alex countered.  “Now that you’ve done the hard work, you can send the weapons lab your specs and they can do the building for us.  I know they’ve got puny human brains, but they’re pretty sharp.”  Brainy seemed to concede this point.

“The more you take care of yourself, the sooner you’ll feel better,” Alex went on gently.

Brainy sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands.  “Very well,” he agreed glumly.  Alex threw away his empty cup and used tissues while he tapped out a few lethargic commands on the tablet, then hauled himself to his feet.

Alex smiled sympathetically, putting a hand on Brainy’s shoulder.  “Let’s get you home,” she said.

 

[Reader]

Awww Brainy finally relented. Reading how the Kovecki could be captured was really interesting. I like Brainy and Danvers together. They work pretty well.Your descriptions surrounding the sneezes were great! And nice hurt and comfort for our guy in this chapter! 

 

[angora48]

 

Thanks, @Reader - every sickfic needs a little H/C at some point, right?

Here's Part 9.

 

Alex watched, arms crossed, as Richards prodded Arr’lechia toward a cell while Lennix hit him with a sustained blast from her low-temperature gun.  “Good work, everyone,” she announced.  “We’ll give him a night in the cells and see how cooperative he’s feeling in the morning.”

Facial recognition had flagged Arr’lechia in a sketchy part of town a few hours after Alex had taken Brainy back to his apartment.  Luckily, the weapons lab had been working full out, and by then, they’d adapted two basic gun models according to Brainy’s specifications, and a strike team was ready to go out (they’d taken a couple fire extinguishers too – Alex hadn’t wanted to take any chances.)

Good thing they had the weapons – trying to punch an alien that could turn into liquid or a gas at will, several agents had discovered, was less than useless (but funny:  Alex wished she’d been recording it.)

With the low-temperature guns, though, all of Arr’lechia’s molecules immediately coalesced back into a solid form.  Alex had half-expected the blast to turn him to ice or something, but it hadn’t.  Instead, his limbs had simply appeared to knit themselves back together as he solidified.  Brainy’s notes were accurate in that the continuous cold blast didn’t seem to hurt him it all.  It just confused and irritated him, which was when the punching really started; Lau had a hell of a time keeping the low-temperature gun trained on him while the rest of the strike team was fighting him and trying to get him into the containment chamber.

But now, he was under lock and key – shifting into liquid and splashing himself angrily against the door of his specially-sealed cell, but contained.  Col. Haley stood beside Alex, observing the captured Kovecki.  “This is impressive, Director Danvers,” she remarked.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Alex replied.  “Everyone on the strike team worked hard.”

“The low-temperature guns,” Haley continued.  “Agent Dox, I presume?  Where is he?”

“He went home sick just after he completed the designs, ma’am,” Alex explained.  She quickly added, “My choice, not his – he would have stayed at least until we caught Arr’lechia, but I didn’t think he was in much shape to stick around.”

“Yes, that’s probably for the best,” Haley agreed.  A flicker of a smile crossed her face.  “We don’t have any weapons-grade sterilization chemicals, do we?  I imagine his station could use some heavy-duty sanitizing.”  She turned.  “Well done, Director Danvers.”

“Ma’am,” Alex said with a nod.

The mission of the last couple of days was wrapping up, and Alex was off for the night.  After returning her weapons to the armory, Alex pulled her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her contacts with one hand as she distractedly gathered up her things.

The phone rang six times; Alex was sure it was going to go to voicemail, but she finally got an answer.  “Hello?” came Brainy’s voice, low and scratchy.  He coughed.

“Hey, Brainy – I didn’t wake you, did I?” Alex asked.

“Director Dadvers.”  Alex heard a few wet sniffles on the other end of the line.  “Is there a probleb with b- AHHHHHHH-chiuhhhhhhh! – by low-tebperature guds?”

“Brainy-” Alex tried to interrupt.

But he wasn’t listening.  “There bay have bed.  By cobbud cold sybptobs idcrease by probabili-” he coughed, “-probability of error by-”

“Brainy!” Alex broke in.  “We got Arr’lechia; the low-temperature guns worked great.  We just put him in one of the cells.  I’m getting ready to head out and thought I’d call to see how you were doing.”

“Oh.”  More sniffling.  Brainy cleared his throat.  “As you idstructed, I’ve bed ‘tryig to get sobe sleep.’  I’ve bed largely udsuccessful, due id- ihhd… huhhhhhhhh-CHOOOOOOO-ehhhhhh!”  A long sniffle.  “…Part to the paid frob the idflabbayshud id by throat add a dew- dewly developing pressure id… by si- sidus… esss…”  Alex heard a sharp intake of breath and a loud “ehhhhhhhh-SHOOOOOOO!”, followed by a few hard coughs.

“Bless you,” she told him with a wince.

“Furtherbore,” Brainy went on, “the fever seebs to be codfusig by percepshuds of tebperature.  At the bobedt, for idstadce, by face is dapp with- with perpiray… shud…”  He paused.  “IHHHHHHH-shiuhhhhhhh!”  He sniffled hard, twice.  “…But the rest of by body is shivering slightly.”  More coughing.  Brainy sighed heavily.  “I feel sick, Director Dadvers.”

The right there, that simple statement devoid of explanation or data, told Alex more than the last several days of Brainy factually rattling off his symptoms had.  “I know,” she said gently.  “Have you eaten anything?”

“Doh,” Brainy replied.  “I’ve bostely just b- bed… hehhhhhh-ihhhhhhh-SHUHHHHHHH!  …Failig to sleep.”

“Okay,” Alex told him.  “I’m leaving the DEO now.  I’ll pick up some dinner for you and stop by on my way home.”

“All right,” Brainy agreed wearily.

“See you soon,” Alex said.  Hanging up, she shouldered her bag and grabbed her keys.  A director’s work is never done.

 

[Reader]

I’m so excited for the next chapter!

(And I almost expected dramatic music to come on when Brainy admitted he didn’t feel well. 😄)

[angora48]

 

Hehe, there comes a time in every sickfic when the character has to admit defeat and let someone take care of them!  😉

Part 10!

 

Anticipating Director Danvers’s impending arrival, Brainy had moved from his bedroom to his living room couch, so he was readily on hand when the offensively-loud buzzing sound filled his apartment.  Raising a hand to his aching, moderately-disoriented head, he rose and pressed the button to allow entrance at the outer door.  He knew that Director Danvers would be at his door shortly, so he opted to remain where he was in lieu of returning to the couch.

Director Danvers was swift, and the knock came within two minutes.  “He-ey,” she said, taking in the sight of Brainy as he answered the door.

His appearance, he supposed, was unexpected.  He was dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants, as well as a hooded sweatshirt with a zipper to account for his inconsistent perception of temperature.  His feet were bare, and perhaps most unexpectedly for Director Danvers, he’d switched off his image inducer.  His platinum hair was lank and untidy, and his illness gave his blue complexion a grayish tinge.

“Hello,” Brainy said, sniffing as he wiped his nose with the side of his hand.  He stepped aside so Director Danvers could enter.  “Thadk you for cobig.”

“We look out for our own,” Director Danvers told him.  She held two Styrofoam containers with lids, one of which bore an emblem consistent with the purchase of hot beverages.  Director Danvers held the beverage container out to Brainy, saying, “You take this – I have one more thing I need to grab.”

Brainy closed the door and leaned against the wall, holding the beverage, as Director Danvers moved to his kitchen.  ‘I dislike th- th- ehhhhhhh-hihhhhhhhh-CHIAHHHHHH! – the taste of tea add coffee,” he remind her.

“Oh, I know,” Director Danvers replied.  She’d opened the door and his refrigerator and was now rummaging around inside it.  “Just try it.”

Director Danvers, by her own reckoning, was Brainy’s friend, but she was also his superior.  As such, Brainy was not always entirely clear whether or not he was to take her words as orders.  As he currently lacked sufficient focus to analyze this statement, he decided to err on the side of caution.  He raised the beverage to his lips and took a swallow, the taste of it catching him off guard.  Frowning, Brainy removed the lid of the Styrofoam container and looked inside.  “This is chocolate,” he pointed out.

“Yeah,” Director Danvers replied.  She’d busied herself in the kitchen, but Brainy didn’t have enough energy or interest to care what she was doing.  “You said you had chills and a sore throat, so I thought a hot drink would help, but since you have to be a pain and not like coffee or tea, I had to improvise.”

The central feature of Brainy’s apartment was a large open area housing both the kitchen and living room, so he was able to move to the living room and sit on the couch without openly ignoring Director Danvers (which would have violated his social obligations as her host.)  He took another swallow of his liquid chocolate, which felt pleasingly warm on his sore, swollen throat.  “Ahhhhhhhh-hehhhhhhh-CHIOOOOOO!” he sneezed.  His nose still itching, he set down his beverage to rub his nose with his finger while grabbing a tissue from the box he’d brought with him from the bedroom.  “ehhhhhh-SHUHHHHHH!” he sneezed again, then blew his nose.

Director Danvers joined Brainy at the couch, carrying the second Styrofoam container and a spoon.  “Chicken noodle soup,” she informed him, handing him the container, “with a twist.”

Brainy examined a spoonful of the soup.  In addition to the eponymous chicken and noodles, he notices small white cubes mixed into the broth, some of which had a red skin on one side.  He gave Director Danvers a questioning look.

“Hey, they’ve got that saying, ‘An apple a day keeps the doctor away,’” Director Danvers observed.  Brainy made to respond, but she anticipated him, adding, “And I’m sure you’re just dying to tell me how illogical that is.  But I thought, ‘Hey, the guy likes apples on his pizza – why not give it a shot?’  You can let me know if I’m onto something.”

Framed thusly, it was a reasonable enough – and fairly considerate – argument, even if it was still utterly unscientific.  Brainy swallowed the spoonful.

“Very appetizing,” he told Director Danvers.  “I approve.”

“Good to know,” Director Danvers replied with a smile.  “Looks like I’ve got a fallback if the whole DEO director thing doesn’t work out.”  She waited while Brainy coughed into the back of his wrist.

“Okay, so we’ve made a good start on our checklist for nursing a cold the human way,” Director Danvers continued – and again, before Brainy could reply, “It’s a metaphorical checklist, Brainy.  Step 1:  comfort food.  You’re welcome.  Step 2:  comfort clothes.  You took care of that yourself nicely done.  Now for Step-” she paused while Brainy sneezed, a forceful “hehhhhhhhh-CHIOOOOOO!” into his hand, “-Step 3:  comfort TV.  What’s your favorite?”

Brainy frowned, then stopped when he found that it exacerbated his headache.  “Televisiod series?” he clarified.

“Exactly,” Director Danvers replied.  “You’ve been in the 21^st century long enough to get a Netflix account – you must have a show you love to binge.”

Brainy considered this.  “I edjoy Sherlock,” he said.

“Sherlock,” Director Danvers repeated.  Brainy could not read her expression; he decide to elaborate.

“There’s sobethig abou- out th… IHHHHHHHH-shiuhhhhhhh! – the protagodist that I fide very relatable,” Brainy explained.  He cleared his throat.  “I’be fodd of the way-” he sniffed, “-he always bakes his idtellectual superiority doad to… others… hehhhhhhh… ehhhhhhhh-CHUHHHHHHH!”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Director Danvers replied, low.  The corner of her mouth crooked upwards.  “All right – Sherlock it is.  Set it up.”  She rose from the couch, and by the time Brainy had brought forth the series on his phone and transmitted it to the television screen (via a wireless Internet connection, the 21^st century was painfully primitive,) she’d returned, carrying one of the blankets from Brainy’s bed.

“How do you have no extra blankets?” she asked, dropping it onto his lap.  “Your linen closet is full of circuits, cables, and motherboards.  It’s called a linen closet, Brainy.”

“Bladkets ared’t lidded either,” Brainy pointed out.

Director Danvers made a rolling arc with her eyes.  “Whatever.  Have this one for when you get cold.  Now how about that genius detective jackass that you find so relatable?”

She settled onto the couch, tucking her feet beneath her as Brainy commenced play of Sherlock’s first episode (objectively its finest, and Director Danvers’s recommendation suggested that the circumstances required only the best.)  He made himself comparatively comfortable, sinking deeply into the couch.  Sniffling, he continued eating his soup and, feeling tired and inactive, allowed the television episode to commandeer his attention.

 

[Reader]

This was so lovely, cute, and funny! Part 2??

[angora48]

 

We've got just a little more - this is the last part of "First Time for Everything."  Thanks for reading!  🙂

Part 11.

 

It wasn’t often that Alex saw Brainy blue (literally) these days, and while she’d never seen Brainy in sweats at all, she didn’t think she’d ever seen him any type of “dressed down” when he had his image inducer off.  In short, seeing a blue Brainy in quasi-pajamas and a hoodie took some getting used to.  Even now, close to an hour later, she was still glancing at him every so often, just to 1) remind herself that that was how he really looked and 2) confirm that, yes, he was really wearing that.  She had to admit to being slightly impressed that he even owned sweats – who know there was a market for leisure wear among AIs?

Though he was obviously feeling pretty sick, it was clear that Brainy was faring a little better now that he was at home.  If nothing else, he’d conceded a bit more to feeling crappy, and as he lazily sipped his hot chocolate and ate his soup, he seemed able to relax a little.

His fever and chills were bothering him; he’d peeled the hoodie off early on and now alternated between resting the blanket lightly across his lap and pulling it tightly around him.  He was sneezing a lot too, which, given that he’d mentioned some sinus pain, had to be miserable for him.

Still, it was helping.  Alex noted how deeply he’d sunk into the couch, and Brainy, as a rule, didn’t slouch.  Normally, he either looked like a model for ideal posture or seemed to have a metal rod attached to his spine.  Now, though, he was all but curled up on the couch, cozied under the blanket for the moment.  “hahhhhhhhh-SHOOOOOOO-ehhhhhhh!” he sneezed.  He looked drowsy, and the sneeze caught him off guard – the hand he raised to his face was a definite delayed reaction, coming too late to be of any use.

Instead, he used it to rub his nose, sniffling.  Sherlock hadn’t caught the murderer yet, but from the way Brainy was blinking heavily and often, Alex doubted he’d make it that far.  The Coluan was fading fast.

Could Alex call them or what?  Inside of five minutes, Brainy’s head was starting to drop onto her shoulder, not quite asleep but not far off.  “Brainy,” she said softly,” come on – let’s get you to bed before you nod off.”

“Mbb,” Brainy mumbled sleepily.  “Yes.  That would b- be… IHHHHHHH-hehhhhhh-chuhhhhhhh!”  He grimaced.  “…Advisable.”  With a yawn, he pushed himself up from the couch, coughing as he stumbled off toward the bedroom, the blanket wrapped around him.  Alex grabbed his Kleenex box and stopped off at the kitchen for a glass of water before following him.

In the bedroom, Alex rearranged the blankets for Brainy, who’d already climbed into bed.  He plucked a tissue from the box she’d set on his nightstand and blew his nose.  “I’ll come by in the morning to see how you’re doing,” she told him.  “I do not want to see you at the DEO until I give you the go-ahead.  You got that?  That’s an order, Brainy.”

“Udderstood,” Brainy murmured, but since he was obviously no more than about 15% awake, Alex couldn’t tell if it was actually sinking in.  To be safe, she got him to unlock his phone and then took if from him and turned off the alarm; she doubted his ability to wake up in the morning without it.

“Okay,” she said, fighting the bemused smile she was forming at the sight of his sleepy-eyed blue face poking out from under the covers, his tousled white hair sticking up in every direction.  “Get some sleep.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait,” Brainy mumbled, coughing, as Alex turned to go.  “I have doh desire to be subjected to the door buh- buhhhz…” He paused.  “AHHHHHHH-shiaahhhhhh! – Mbbb, ub, to the buzzer again.”  He sniffled, running a clumsy hand under his nose.  “I keep secoddary apartbedt keys id the drawer of a sball table beside by frodt door.  Please… t- take… theb… hihhhhhh-ehhhhhhhhh-SHOOOOOOOOO!  Haaahhhhhhhh… IHHHHHHHHH-shiuhhhhhhhhh!  Mbbb…”

“Bless you,” Alex said, wincing; she hadn’t thought about how unpleasant a door buzzer had to be on a splitting headache.  “You got it – I’ll let myself in.”

Brainy nodded, sniffling again.  “Thadk you, Director Dadvers.”

“Any time,” Alex told him fondly.  “Feel better.”

“Mbbb,” Brainy murmured.  His breathing, though congested and just a little wheezy, was starting to grow long and even:  that techno-organic was out.

Quietly, Alex stole out of the bedroom.  As she moved through the apartment, she switched off the lights and TV they’d left on.  She collected Brainy’s used tissues on the living room floor and empty containers on the end table to throw them away.  She washed up in the kitchen, found Brainy’s spare keys, and, silently, stepped out of the apartment, locking the door behind her.

As she headed down the stairs and back out to her car, Alex smiled to herself.  No Kara, no J’onn, and a sick tech genius, and she’d still caught a molecularly-dynamic art thief, despite starting the week never having heard the phrase “molecularly-dynamic” in her life.  Oh, and she’d had time leftover to take care of the aforementioned tech genius, whose encyclopedic artificial intelligence didn’t understand what it was like to actually have a cold.

Yeah – Alex had this director thing down flat.

 

[Reader]

The ending was super cute!! Thank you!!