Chapter Text
Simon woke with a nauseating hangover.
The hangover itself was bad enough – as for the fact that he never drank which only amplified the aftershock – but the face that came along with it.
Haunting him from the night before, his intoxicated brain blurring the details. The glistening smile and the intense smell of cologne (mixed with a chemical scent of some sort, if he could remember…ammonia? No, not ammonia…something else) sticking in his mind with a fierce stubbornness.
He looked over at his alarm clock, 6:15, 15 minutes before his alarm – perfect. Then, he took note of the small napkin sitting next to the clock. He picked it up and read it once over,
“MEtro 2-1114
See you soon, Spe glasses
J”
Yes…that’s it. I remember now. He knew my name… the man. Yes…and he was famous. And he knew my name.
Simon stared at the napkin for a second while laying back on his creaky bed.
He read it again.
Then again.
Then again…
As if reading it over could make the whole situation make some sort of sense.
His head began to throb, the hangover making itself known once more, Simon winced in pain, dropping the napkin onto his chest as to be able to cup his hands to his pounding head.
It’s all so very strange.
He picked up the note again, his eyes wandering over to the crossed out section, he could barely make out the half-written word underneath the black scribble that covered it.
“Spe”
He continued to stare at the half-word, trying his best to decipher the strangeness of it all. Suddenly, a ray shot out of his eyes and burned the paper into nothingness.
“No…no no no no,” he picked up the ashes as they floated through the air, they continued to disintegrate in his hands till they were nothing more than smudges of ash on his palms.
Damn.
He sighed, looking at the remains of the one piece of evidence of last night's events. The last trace of whomever “J” was.
He most likely wouldn’t have called, he was a professional. A hero and an attorney at law, he had no time for these matters. Though it might have been nice, being friendly with a celebrity might have been interesting, not to mention he could have gotten answers.
And maybe a little piece of him thought the man was attractive, at least from what he could clearly remember, though the man was a celebrity so of course he was at least the slightest bit attractive.
It might have been nice to see him again. Though, maybe not, I was drunk…he must think I’m extremely irresponsible and…
His head throbbed in protest, sending another ray up into the ceiling, the hole left being wide enough to see the neighbor’s room above.
…I must remember to come up with some sort of reason for that when they ask.
His alarm promptly went off, jolting him to his feet.
He quickly rushed, getting dressed, grabbing his supersuit and a cup of coffee, getting out the door within 5 minutes.
Ah– forgot my tie.
Getting out the door within 6 minutes.
He arrived at the NSA base just in time, many of the other supers had already arrived and were in their supersuits.
Embarrassed, he walked to the men’s locker rooms. As he turned the corner to put on his helmet and suit, seemingly out of nowhere Gamma Jack popped out.
“Hey Specs, little late today, huh?”
“Ah, um, well, yes, Gamma Jack”
“God, you look a bit of a mess there, pal. Rough night last night?” he cocked an eyebrow, “You had a date or something like that”
“Oh, no, just had uh… a lot of work to do,” Simon knew he was a terrible liar when it came to these sorts of situations yet still he rambled on, “Yes, lots of work. Nothing more”
Gamma Jack paused for a second, a smirk creeping onto his face, “...uh-huh”
There was a beat of awkward silence…Simon stared at Gamma Jack’s ever so amused face. Simon felt a subtle flush growing in his face as he stared at Gamma Jack. He was a handsome man and it was an awkward moment, of course he was going to blush a little. It’s a natural reaction that any man would have in a moment like this.
“Gamma Jack? Could I get uh…a little privacy, if you would?”
Gamma Jack let out a small laugh, “Oh come on, Gazer, you’re no fun”
“Gamma Jack…”
“Yeah, yeah I’m going. Don’t miss me too much now…” as he left he added, “oh and Specs? Tomato juice does wonders for hangovers”
Simon paused, “how did you…”
“Ah, y’know, just took a guess,” he said as he tossed Simon a wink and left.
“Gamma Jack, wait–” but before he could stop him, Jack was gone without a trace.
Damnit. How could he have possibly known? Do I look that disheveled or…did he see me…
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror…his shirt untucked, eyebags so prominent it looked like he lost a fight twice.
Yes…maybe it is just that.
Simon tried not to linger on it for too long, why would Gamma Jack even care if Simon went out for a drink last night? Besides, the guy thrives off of overconfidence and bluffing, this was nothing out of the ordinary.
But if he had been there, wouldn’t I have noticed….
He heard Mr. Incredible’s voice call from down the hall, “Hey Gazer! You coming or what?”
Simon slid on his helmet before he could spiral (which he almost always had a tendency to do).
As usual, Gazerbeam went out on a mission with Mr. Incredible, Frozone, and Gamma Jack.
While their mission assignment was being explained, he kept on feeling a pair of eyes falling on him. Not staring, just glances, but enough for him to take note.
He finally caught Gamma Jack’s eyes darting over to him – ah, so this is all just another one of his games.
He tried to pass it off at first, focusing on the mission being explained by an NSA agent, but then he felt it again. And again.
Let’s see…prision break…supervillians escaped…energy projec–gah will he stop that already?
Gazerbeam felt a flush rising to his ears, and Gamma Jack must have noticed because Simon heard the tiniest chuckle come from beside him.
Why is he doing this? Why today of all days?
“Any questions?” the NSA agent asked as she finally finished explaining the mission.
Simon opened his mouth to to protest, “Uh–”
Gazerbeam’s interjection was quickly interrupted by none other than Gamma Jack, “We’re all good, sweetheart”
“Let’s move out!” Mr. Incredible demanded.
Gazerbeam stood there for a moment, trying to process everything that had just happened.
“Come on, specs! Time’s ticking”
…alright then.
Gazerbeam sat awkwardly in the passenger seat next to Mr. Incredible in The Incredibile.
It was cramped, extremely cramped.
Gamma Jack flew overhead alongside Frozone skating through the streets of Metroville not too far behind.
Gazerbeam tried to adjust himself comfortably, making an honest attempt to rest his arm on the center console, but Incredible had already taken up all that space and then some.
As the awkward social situation continued, Gazerbeam tried to distract himself from it.
Thought of court cases, what he knew of the mission to follow, yet his thoughts kept drifting back to the man at the bar the night before.
Strikingly handsome.
Famous.
And eyes that cut through his clouded memory.
They almost looked like…
“THERE HE IS!” the Incredibile screeched to a halt, sending Gazerbeam flying forward.
“Alright, Gazer, you get out here. Try to…”
Mr. Incredible froze suddenly before he shouted, “GAZERBEAM GET OUT OF THE CAR LOOK OUT–”
Then, it all happened so suddenly and so fast.
A blast of energy hit the tire, sending the car flying.
The whole world spun as the car flipped.
When they finally landed with the car roof-side-down, Gazerbeam hit his head on the dashboard with a thud.
Wh- what–
He felt himself fade in and out of consciousness, the world seeming to spin.
He heard faint shouts from the distance:
“Where the hell are they”
“Shit, the car, oh shit they were in the car!”
“Don’t just sit there, we gotta get them the hell out”
Then, he was out again.
He could remember the feeling of warm hands carrying him.
And the heavy scent of cologne…and ozone.
Smells…
Smells kind of like…
Unconscious again.
He woke up in the infirmary at the NSA base.
“What, where– where am I?”
Then, a familiar voice cut through the air, “Well, you took quite a tumble there, Specs,” out walked Gamma Jack, smug as ever.
Simon tried to sit up, “The mission, what about the…”
Gamma Jack strolled over to Simon’s bed, gently pushing him back down, “Relax, four-eyes. Frozone and I handled him easy-peasy”
“How long have I been out?”
“Eh…not long. A few hours,” he paused, his grin only growing, “So how about a ‘thank you’”
“What?”
“Well, y’know, a thank you? Ever heard of one? Or did they not cover that in law school?”
Simon looked into Gamma Jack’s playful eyes, staring at Simon like he was top-tier entertainment.
“Well, yes, apologies. Thank you, Gamma Jack”
Gamma Jack let out a chuckle, “Hm, yeah, anytime specs…” he turned on his heel to leave. Once he was out of Simon’s sightline he shouted, “Oh yeah, by the way, might wanna work on not drooling in your sleep– it’s a HUGE turn off, four-eyes!”
Simon turned bright red, heat crawling up his neck and into his ears, his face burning with embarrassment, his eyes beginning to glow just the slightest bit.
The nerve.
The absolute nerve.
Simon leaned back, letting his head rest against the back of the bed.
His head hurt even worse now, the effects of the hangover had for the most part worn off but the car incident had given him a splitting headache at twice the intensity as the one before.
Gah, damn. I must’ve really taken a good hit to the head.
He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a moment of peace from the blinding lights from up above.
That moment of peace was quickly interrupted by the mental images of the man from the bar the night before.
The man whom his mind would not let him rest from.
He sighed,
Gosh, if only I hadn’t destroyed the only proof it wasn’t all a dream.
Simon then paused,
I mean…he is a celebrity. Why would he even care about me now…it’s not as though he knows I’m a super. It’s not like he would…
He stopped, trying to force his concussed mind to conjure up a clear picture of the man. But between the alcohol and the injury, nothing was truly coming through. As a matter of fact, the only face he could come up with for the man sort of looked a bit like…like Gamma Jack.
Simon quickly dismissed the thought as his mind playing tricks on him, blending the last 24 hours together into one big messy picture of a memory.
He let out another self-deprecating sigh before letting himself doze back into unconsciousness,
Why would he want to waste time on a guy like me?