A/N- I feel like I owe the world some sort of an explanation for me, a 21 year old woman, writing fan fic about a kid's cartoon show in which I pair the villain with the heroine. As I mention in the summary (and feel like I need to make abundantly clear) Word Girl/Becky is about 25 years old in this story. I am not on board with the lolicon stuff in any way, shape or form. In my mind, Dr. Boxleitner was about 22 or 23 (fresh out of college) when we first meet him, so Two-Brains is roughly about 37 or 38 in the time of this story. You'll no doubt gather all of this as you read, but I just want it to be understood that both characters are consenting adults. Understood? Awesome.

I'd also like to mention that canon is a little flimsy here. I only recently started watching the delightful show so there is still much I need to learn, but with the help of the WG wiki I think I was able to make it somewhat consistent with what has gone on in the show before. The issue I was primarily concerned about is Two-Brains being aware of Word Woman's (as she's known in this story) alter-ego, as I know he's figured it out before (but quickly forgot) and tried to use it against her, but I always thought that he would have been able to deduce it on his own were he to ever just meet Becky and since in this story he's got a compelling reason not to use it to destroy her, I thought it would be okay to have him just keep it to himself. Admittedly, it's rather hard balancing these two halves, as it was for Steven/Two-Brains.

But therein lies just one more reason why these two are oddly well-suited for each other. Or such is my opinion.

So, I don't know what else there is to comment on really. If you have any questions/concerns, feel free to send me a line. Otherwise, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Disclaimer- Not mine. I could never do this show justice.

When word got around to his neck of the woods that she would be coming back, he spared no time or expense from the cause of getting himself back as soon as possible.

The past 15 years had been, admittedly, less than ideal. He had stuck around for a while after the heroine left –towards more dire and desperate towns, she alleged-, eager to continue his pattern of villainy unabashed. He honestly didn't think it would make that much of a difference with or without her. Certainly, it seemed, the universal constant of good and evil would supply him with another nemesis worthy of his genius before too long, he was sure of it.

In the meantime, he continued with his usual routine of causing pointless mayhem- pointless, because there was usually no better reason to do it other than the fact that it was fun. If he ended up with a pilfered hoard of cheese before the day was through then all the better, but that really wasn't the point.

But much to his dismay, the evil-doing lost a good percentage of what made it enjoyable in the first place when she left. Various ambitious replacements cropped up in the first few years of her absence, but all were exceedingly incompetent in comparison or just simply no fun at all. It was a pleasant surprise the first time he triumphed over a super hero, but the boy at hand was truly neither 'super' nor much of a 'hero' and never gave him much of a challenge to begin with, so his first sweet taste of victory was somewhat soured. The others were similar, though a few had been actually capable of stopping him in his tracks, but never with the fervor of his former enemy.

When it seemed apparent that things were never going back to the way they were and that the heroine had truly left a gaping hole that no other hero could readily fill, he decided to move on as well, hoping in some part of himself that they might somehow cross paths again.

He eventually decided to take a sabbatical, as it were, from evil-doing as he made his rounds of the country, only occasionally dabbling in it to see if she wouldn't be called in to stop him. Perhaps suffice it to mention, she never was. He couldn't help but wonder if she had retired, and he was loath to find this idea rather disheartening. He wasn't supposed to care about her, after all. She wasn't supposed to be anything to him other than an obstacle to his whims.

But he could only delude himself for so long. It was really no secret that there was much more to the relationship between super hero and arch-nemesis than what appeared on the surface. There was a certain undercurrent of codependency, particularly on the behalf of the antagonist. That was the difference between him and the casual enemy, the one with the legitimately selfish motives (the jewelry thief, the bank robber, the seldom, rather than serial villain); unlike them, he needed a do-gooder to oppose and chase him down constantly. It provided him the attention he craved and the endless cat-and-mouse charade (sometimes literally) that he seemingly needed to live.

So far, only she had been capable and worthy enough to fill that gap and while he hated to think that, perhaps, she might be the only one who could, he still went out of his way to make the pilgrimage back to their old playing ground. He longed to face off with her again, to feel the rush of adrenaline that had been denied him too long. Certainly, he thought, she wasn't the only super hero in the world for him. Somewhere there was someone else, perhaps many, many others who would make as good or better of a match for him.

But he had yet to find them, and he'd of considered himself a fool for not taking advantage of an opportunity he had long ago convinced himself he'd never have again.

The plan had been set up and executed perfectly, so far. It should have, he knew, as he'd been planning and working on it diligently in the days leading up to the scheduled date.

He had made sure it was especially diabolical and complex, one that would surely keep his enemy on her toes until the climax. He had also made certain that she had gotten enough of a reintroduction to her old turf and familiar side-enemies before he stepped back into the limelight. When the news reported that she had thrown down the Butcher for the third time in her reemergence, he knew the time was right. He needed her to be warmed up and at her best, not rusty with inexperience, as that would be nothing less than completely unsatisfying.

And now he waited with bated breath in the cavernous, abandoned warehouse. He kept his gaze fixed on the windows to his left, knowing somehow that she'd likely first appear as a silhouette on the moon. She had proven herself to also have a bit of a flair for the dramatic, not unlike him, and so it seemed only fitting.

"Sure has been a while, hasn't it, Doc?"

The voice caught him off-guard, breaking the tension of the moment. He was supposed to be alone here, laying in wait for his old and pathetically missed arch-nemesis. Who would have the gall to just come waltzing in on the moment like that? Had he given the matter any sort of thought, the answer might have become apparent to him early on.

"Who said that?" he demanded to know. "Where are you? Show yourself or I'll-"

"Geez, someone's a little on edge. Were you really that excited to see me?"

He only needed to peer in the direction of the disembodied voice for a moment before the source was revealed, if in only the most vague way imaginable. The darkened profile of what was clearly a reasonably tall, statuesque woman gradually sauntered out of the pitch-black darkness and into the subtle glow of the moon.

The obviousness didn't register to him at first. Who was this broad and what in the world did she think she was doing?

"Doc, it's me! Has it been so long that you don't know Word Girl when you see her?"

When she finally stepped into a sufficiently revealing patch of light, he was struck blank. This adult, this curvaceous woman was Word Girl, there was no doubt. Well, of course it was! How could he have been so obtuse? Did he really expect to see the same 10 year old after 15 years? But then he supposed that in some unconscious part of himself -the part that eschewed logic, apparently- he did expect that. It was supposed to be just like the old times, after all.

But as he eyed the admittedly alluring young woman that his enemy had become, he realized that certain things would never be the same.

"Word Girl? Hardly."

He had meant for it to be mocking, but it came out sounding almost like a suggestive pass instead. He was certain his leering didn't help in that regard, but he felt he could hardly be blamed, being both surprised and a man, after all (mostly, anyway).

"Well, what did you expect?" she asked, amused. "It's been…what? 15 years?"

"Apparently, though don't ask me to confirm it. Time became rather irrelevant to me a good while ago."

"Irrelevant," she repeated with a smirk. "Unrelated to the subject at hand."

"I believe you, you know," he sighed. "There's no need to show off."

"Just making sure," she replied with a coquettish wink. "And now, if my memory serves me correct, I believe this is about the time in our exchange where I defeat you."

He pressed the button of the remote that had become rather warm in his tight grip and a cage fell directly on to his nemesis with a reverberating clatter.

"Don't get too cocky so soon. You've been out of practice, after all, and I've got quite a few new tricks up my sleeve."

Clutching the bars of the cage, she glared at him as convincingly as she could, but an unmistakable smile of appreciation managed to peek out of the façade.

"It's the only time I'll ever admit it, Two-Brains," she said mockingly, as if to imply an insult. "But I've missed you more than what would probably be considered healthy for a heroine and her worst enemy."

And I you, he thought grudgingly as he visibly rolled his eyes.

"Don't go getting soft on me, Word Woman," he spat instead. "You'll probably have changed your mind once I'm done humiliating you with my inevitable victory."

She just laughed in what could almost be considered a cackle worthy of villainy.

It was true, as it turned out; things did not go back to the way they were before.

But it was impossible to care, for either of them. They kept up the dynamic as they had before, he doing something expectedly villainous and she having to respond to it while he executed some brilliantly thought up plan to thwart her, none of which were ever successful. He'd get carted off to jail for a while, wherein he'd get some time to think of the next strategy.

He was beginning to find, however, that the supposed purpose of his evil-doings (cheese, more often than not) was becoming more and more of an after-thought. This new Word Girl -or Word Woman, rather- had a certain enthusiasm for the charade that he couldn't remember her showing when she was a child. Back then, his schemes seemed more of a nuisance to her than anything to be marveled at or feared.

And he had to admit that it was somewhat disheartening, particularly when he enjoyed being her opposition so very much. In a strange way that could not be explained any better, he felt almost unappreciated at times.

But such was absolutely not the case now. Word Woman arrived at every scene to stop him with an encouraging urgency and flair. She would underhandedly try to coax him into explaining his plan du jour and because he delightedly knew that she legitimately wanted to hear it, he chose instead to let her wait and sweat it out a little. He could tell she enjoyed this too.

The relationship was far more symbiotic now than it had ever been before and it seemed markedly beneficial for them both. But why did Word Woman seem to like their time together now, such as it was, whereas Word Girl would have rather spent her time watching shows that involved Unicorn Princesses?

He asked her as much one day, though in such a way that didn't destroy or lift the antagonistic shield he needed to keep in place.

"If I'm not mistaken, Word Woman, you seem to actually be getting some kind of sick pleasure out of dealing with me time and time again. That's quite the turn-around from 15 years ago, wouldn't you say?"

She shrugged. "I enjoyed it then, too, I just didn't realize it at the time. But after years of having to grow up without all of the superhero stuff, I was eager to don the colors again. Now, it's like I'm reliving all of the stuff about my childhood that it made fun. Saving cities from giant robots while correcting people's word usage is easy compared to being an adult. Inevitably I have to return to all of that, day after day, but I'm not as eager to do so as I was back then."

"And did you think I just left this evil mouse half on me because I didn't know how to fix everything?" he rallied back at her. "I have a Doctorate in Biochemistry, for crying out loud. I could have easily reverted back into the very adult life of being young Dr. Steven Boxleitner, fresh out of university and in his own lab, bright-eyed and eager for what the future would bring, whenever I wanted. But that would mean going to more pathetically humiliating conventions, competing with my colleagues for essentially the same goals. Steven Boxleitner was boring and average, anyway, never wanting to do anything fun or sporadic. This mouse, of all things, brought a sense of excitement that I just couldn't part with. Maybe if you would have given it more thought, you would have realized early on that us adult villains have more than one reason for being what we are."

"I liked Steven, though," she protested. "He was my friend, after all, and maybe one of the only people in this city I felt like I could relate to. He was good man with a brilliant mind and I was sad to lose him."

He felt himself getting a little indignant, but not in the familiar way. This was almost akin to jealousy, an emotion he did not commonly run into.

"How terribly sad for you, now that you've been stuck with this medically insane crackpot instead of sweet and reliable and organized, push-over Steven Boxleitner. Shall I play my metaphorical violin in sympathy?"

She rolled her eyes, though not without a hint of enjoyment at his displeasure.

"I was trying to be encouraging. I know Steven isn't completely gone, anyway. Somewhere under all of that crazy, he's cowering in fear, probably afraid of opposing anything that domineering second brain of yours says. Still, you're as much Steven as you are that mouse."

"Wishful thinking," he said tersely. "And you can say all of the disgustingly flowery things you want about him, but if I hadn't had my little accident you wouldn't be enjoying yourself as much as you are now. Come now, Word Woman, this is something neither of us can deny."

She laughed.

"I wouldn't dream of it! I do miss Steven, but you're right, he wasn't nearly as much fun."

He kept his back turned, deathly afraid that some of his brightening at her saying this might become apparent.

"Besides," she sighed. "If I'm completely honest, it wasn't just the whole escapist thing that I missed. I could have become a super hero anywhere, you know."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. In fact, I tried for awhile. But you know what? A good arch-nemesis is extremely hard to come by and you, as it turns out, leave some pretty big shoes to fill. Metaphorically, of course."

"So I'm irreplaceable, is that it?" he said teasingly, trying not to sound hopeful.

"Well, since irreplaceable means incapable of being replaced or substituted, then I'd say yes. As far as arch-enemies go, no one holds a candle to you."

She then tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around reluctantly, just in time to see her with a repulsively endearing sly look on her face.

"Am I not also irreplaceable, Doc? You came back here for me after all, didn't you?"

"What?" he exclaimed. "Who told you-? I never-"

"And you set up that pretty elaborate scheme to welcome me back. If I didn't know better, I'd say-"

"I promise you'll regret finishing that sentence."

"Oh will I?" she challenged, before spontaneously engaging her flight abilities and hovering herself up into the air. "Well, it's been a while since you've given me a good assignment, Doc. Don't start slacking on the job or I'm liable to do something drastic and potentially embarrassing on your behalf."

Knowing a good avenue out of an uncomfortable conversation when he saw one, the Doctor compliantly reverted to the game at hand.

"Say, I haven't broken into the Cheeseum in a while, have I? They must feel so neglected."

"They're not the only ones." She winked, before zipping away to cut him off at the scene.

Certain complex and otherwise uncomfortable thoughts about his enemy had started to become more obvious of late, particularly when he was left alone to think about them.

So he ignored Steven's want to stay at home and instead headed out for a card game with the boys- his fellow city villains, that is. A camaraderie, of sorts, had developed between the criminals in the wake of the heroine's departure so many years ago. A few had missed the challenge of her presence for a while, much like him, but eventually they all would subscribe to the prevailing sense of relief that their behavior could go on more or less unhindered.

That was what set him apart from them and if they knew it, it would be the kiss of death for his current reputation. But no one ever questioned the dynamic between Word Woman and Doctor Two-Brains, not even when the Doctor packed up and left with nary an explanation not long after Word Girl had done the same. Upon his return, he had been welcomed back into the inner circle of crime as if he had never left, and it made him wonder for a while if any of them had actually taken any notice of his absence.

Not that it mattered now, of course.

He hung out with them that night, and many nights before, regardless of their true dedication to him or anyone else in the room. They were villains, anyway, and decidedly very selfish. This wasn't really a group-wide friendship so much as it was…a bunch of villains clustering together in a room to play cards, drink, smoke and complain about their common enemy. He supposed he could live with that, so long as Steven was plenty annoyed and uncomfortable.

But unbeknownst to him, the annoyance that night was to be shared with both halves of his being.

Usually, the conversation concerning Word Woman centered around the frustration that she had defeated them all yet again. Many years ago, the Doctor would have readily joined into this talk, whereas now he simply watched on with an odd sense of pride. They could say whatever they wanted about her (that she was a 'meddling bitch' or 'a freakin' thorn in my side' or 'when are we going to kill her, anyway?') and he wasn't in the least bit concerned with it. She remained the undefeated champion and would continue to be so, showing these idiots exactly where they stood.

Sure, he was supposed to be empathetic to them and desperate for his own win against her, but they were almost partners or playmates, she and him, and he couldn't exactly wish defeat on someone he both admired and secretly enjoyed spending time with. Besides, his fellow antagonists seem plenty content on talking and having him listen with private amusement.

On this particular evening, however, the conversation took an unexpected turn when one of them pointed out that Word Woman was "…kinda hot now, actually".

"Yeah, you're definitely right about that. She can thwart me any day, if you know what I'm saying."

They all cackled at this, with the exception of the good Doctor.

"Oh please," he grumbled. "Don't use her feminine wiles to detract from the fact that she can easily take any of you down. You'll notice that despite my pathetic track record with her, I don't feel the need to resort to your methods of passive-aggression."

"Come on, Doc," they appealed. "You have to admit she's not hard on the eyes. Plus, she's got a body that just won't quit-"

"No thank you," he interjected quickly. "I don't care to degrade myself- or her. I'll readily make an object out of any regular harpy," (Redundant Woman and her clones gasped in disgusted shock at that) "But not a worthy opponent, the only opponent worthy of me, in fact."

He then resigned his cards to the table with a dramatic throw-down and quickly exited the room before anyone could question his behavior.

He mindlessly turned the radio on in the truck on the way home with the simple hope that awful pop music would be enough to keep his thoughts off the path they were threatening to take. But when the indisputably awful song 'Shut Up and Kiss Me' came on (one that he often heard the henchmen singing along to while cleaning) he couldn't stop himself from analyzing the lyrics and realizing, rather quickly, that he was in huge trouble.

He was a slave now- of that much, he was certain.

For whatever it was worth, he had tried his best to oppose the affliction, even going so far as to ignore and avoid his enemy for as long as he possibly could. But when she showed up at his hideout of her own volition and yelled at him for a good 15 minutes for being a neglectful jerk-wad, he acted as if he was reluctant to lift the month long abstinence (whereas, deep down, it was more of an enthusiastic lift than anything else. He could no more stand being away from her than she could from him).

But this was all wrong! It didn't take a Doctorate to see that, certainly. He was a villain and she was the superhero. They were sworn enemies, not unlike the cat and the mouse (a personal favorite analogy of his). The weird codependent stuff was one thing and definitely hard enough for him to deal with. This, to him, nearly constituted grounds for self-destruction. But she would never forgive him for that, so he refrained.

Eventually, the especially hard-to-swallow truth became unwaveringly apparent to him. Perhaps it was Steven's logic that finally managed to get a word in edgewise, but he couldn't say for sure. What he did know, beyond a shadow of doubt, was that he could only keep this inside for so long. Yes, he knew that it was somewhat out-of-character for him as a villain to not try and hold the matter inside until it was, perhaps literally, bled out, but that in and of itself would constitute one of his most humiliating defeats.

The inevitability was that it would be revealed and she would find out. The best course of action seemed to be letting the truth escape on his own terms rather than against his will. He might have some chance of retaining his dignity, if that were the case.

Would it mean the end of them? It was a distinct possibility. But then again, he wasn't being given many options.

He eventually decided that there was truth in the philosophy that the best way to go out is with an embrace and a bang, so he set out to plan his demise.

She was intrigued when stores all over town were suddenly robbed of Unicorn statuettes and various related paraphernalia. No villain she dealt with on a regular basis would normally have any sort of interest in such things.

Could it be there was someone new? She pondered this possibility until she inspected the various toy stores and saw the gaping teeth-mark holes in the brick walls that spoke only of one person.

But why him? And why Unicorns?

Unable to contain the curiosity for much longer, she made a beeline for the warehouse, hoping the answers would become clear sooner rather than later.

When she arrived inside, however, things only became ten times more confusing, as the once dank and musty building had been transformed into a beautiful, sparkling unicorn dreamland, complete with every sort of figurine and life-size unicorn statue she could imagine.

"So, you've finally arrived, Word Woman!" the Doctor's familiar voice crowed over the loudspeaker from the old observation room. "It's about time, too. I so hoped you wouldn't miss my little surprise. Welcome to your Unicorn-filled nightmare!"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, still at a bit of a loss to understand the method to his most current display of madness. This certainly was unlike anything he had ever done before.

But gradually, she began to somewhat get the gist. It still didn't make complete sense to her, but she decided she could play along until an explanation presented itself.

"No, not Unicorns!" she screeched. "How did you know they were my biggest fear?"

He laughed in that ridiculous, yet painstakingly familiar guffaw of his.

"It's every villain's dream to find their enemy's one true weakness, didn't you know? And now that I've discovered yours, I plan to use it to destroy you once and for all! First, however, I will to coerce you into wearing this princess dress that has been especially tailored to your size and color preferences!"

Said dress appeared, lowered down by a hanger in front of her. She couldn't help but gasp at its utter perfection. Ever since she was a girl, this was exactly what she imagined her first dress-up gown would look like, down to the very last detail. That childlike part of her squealed and hugged the garment close to her, before remembering the point of the game.

"Oh! I mean, uhm…no! I'll never wear this!"

"Do it, or I just might present you with a real life Unicorn! I bet you'd hate that, wouldn't you, Word Woman?"

"Okay, okay! You've got me! I'll wear it. Anything but a live Unicorn that I could own and ride whenever I wanted!"

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "You can change in the specially prepared dressing room I've put together for you!"

It may have been weird, and perhaps just a bit mind-boggling, but it would be a lie to say she wasn't already enjoying herself. Maybe the Doctor really had gone off his rocker entirely, she thought, or maybe he had mistaken what she loved for what she hated. Or, just maybe, there was another much more logical reason that she was a bit hesitant to admit consciously.

In any case, she was eager to see the plan through to its end and enjoy the ride along the way. Particularly so when she re-emerged in her beautiful new duds and the Doctor announced that the next level of torture would be tea-time with the actress who portrayed Pretty-Pretty Princess.

Her initial response to this revealed horror was to twirl around and squeak in delight, but she soon revised this with a half-hearted,

"…no! You wouldn't!"

"Indeed I would, Word Woman! Enjoy yourselves, ladies!" he wished evilly as he appeared to sneak out of the building and leave the fan girl and her idol to their conversation.

She shrugged and joined the private tea party, deciding that the cause of the Doctor's insanity could be pondered later on.

The moment he reached the outside air he made a point to pause a moment and catch his breath, as well as slow his quickening heart rate (partially a product of being half-mouse).

Things were happening a bit faster than he had envisioned and he began wondering if it was too late to call the whole thing off. He could attribute everything to a sudden bout of inexplicable madness, couldn't he? Maybe he drank something weird in the lab. She'd buy that, wouldn't she?

No, she wouldn't. He knew she was too quick and too clever for any other explanation to fly.

So instead of just racing off in the opposite direction and away from that which he feared, he rounded the corner into the alleyway where his two henchmen awaited with a tied up Violet. He knew it wasn't the most gentlemanly way to get information out of the best friend of the woman he was trying to woo, but he was a villain after all. He had every intention of letting her go scott-free once everything was complete.

Besides, she didn't seem to mind all that much. The henchmen were keeping her plenty entertained with the magic trick set they had bought and she, being something of an idiot, was delighted to watch it all.

"I hate to interrupt the show, gentlemen, but I think I'll be requiring that last gift before too long. You did get it, didn't you?"

"Of course, boss! What, you think we'd go and disappoint you?"

The already wrapped and sealed box was thrown to him somewhat haphazardly and he managed to catch it before it slammed against his chest and robbed him of breath completely.

"You," he said to Violet, pointedly. "You're sure she'll like this, right? As in, she'll think it's clever and charming and whatever else you women folk find endearing?"

Violet hesitated a moment, her large watery eyes blinking in confusion.

"I'm not sure what you mean by endearing, but I know she'll like it. I think it's very romantic!"

He rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "Fair enough. You can leave now."

He then motioned for the henchmen to untie and free her, but she stopped them and expressed her desire to see more magic tricks. They were ecstatic at the prospect of having an engaged audience for a bit longer and continued onward with the show.

The Doctor, needing to give his lady fair and her favorite actress a bit more time alone, decided to have a seat and make the crowd two, despite knowing how each trick was done and finding the whole thing completely droll.

"I know it must be strange to come to terms with," Diane Wheatley, actress of Pretty-Pretty Princess explained. "But you mustn't rule the possibility out. I mean, I wouldn't know. I was just hired with nary an explanation."

"But how is that supposed to work, Diane? I'm the superhero and he's the villain. The universal constants are against us, don't you see? We're like oil and water. Besides, what would the town think of that?"

"My dear, if love were really that easy or simple it wouldn't be the basis of every sad song or poem since humans could write. It may seem like you're facing the impossible, but you can't keep lying to yourself. Eventually, I imagine, you'll have to come to some sort of decision."

"If all of this is due to what I think it is," she said softly, almost to herself. "I expect that decision will have to be made sooner rather than later."

Diane touched her arm and said before leaving, "It may be extremely cheesy and cliché, but there's a truth to it- do what your heart tells you."

The heroine was readying herself to do just that, but when she turned there was a gift box awaiting her on the table where she and her guest had just finished tea. Deciding to put it all off a bit longer, she sat down and made quick work of the wrapping paper and tape, soon revealing a crisp and brand-new Dictionary with a thick red leather cover, gold inscriptions and strong binding.

She made a somewhat inhuman noise upon seeing it, having desired such a thing since her current Dictionary's 10th birthday.

She then opened it, eager to get a good whiff of that new-book smell she loved too much, when an unimposing piece of paper fell out, directly onto her lap. It was clearly a letter of some kind with handwriting that seemed oddly familiar, though not in a style she had seen recently.

Blanks with numbers were located where certain words should have been and it took her only a handful of seconds to gather what it was she needed to do.

He wandered uneasily back into the warehouse after a decidedly sufficient amount of time, only to find the dreamland completely abandoned.

Sparkly and happy, but empty nonetheless. The entire effort was a long shot anyway, he supposed with a sigh, and decided he should clean the place out.

But no matter how much he longed for his dark old warehouse to return to what it was, he simply couldn't find the volition to even get started. It would be easier to blame it on fatigue rather than disappointment and admitted heartache, so he chose to go to bed- not that there'd be any sleep for him tonight, however.

Instead, a familiar high-pitched, authoritative voice reverberating over the loudspeakers stopped him in his tracks.

"To the one I treasure as my closest enemy," it began. "As I'm sure you've perhaps gathered by now, all of this hullabaloo was conducted not in the interest of torturing or thwarting you, but instead as the only method of courtship accessible to a man that fancies himself one of the city's greatest villains. He is seemingly unable to find the courage or the gumption to carry this out as any normal person might, but he hoped you would appreciate his fidelity to the roles you both play. I, however, am not bound by this and it is for this reason that I've been recruited to tell you what my evil half cannot. The truth is, we both find ourselves in love with you- your enemy Doctor Two-Brains as well as myself. As you were probably aware, we have always had a sense of admiration and respect for you, but never the awareness to realize it until you were gone. This has recently formed into an emotion that was very frightening and confusing for us both, but I think we've reached a point where we can no longer deny what is there. We love you, no matter how inescapably strange or impossible the whole thing might be. It is for this reason that my evil half wishes to offer you an alternative, should you find it compelling and preferable. Dr. Two-Brains, in a show of completely out-of-character behavior, wants to give me the opportunity to come back. You need only say the word and he will be no more and the two of us will be free to live a significantly more normal existence together. If this is not evidence enough that your arch-nemesis is completely enamored with you, then I am at a loss as to what would be sufficiently convincing. We ask that you expeditiously let us know how this makes you feel and if, perhaps, the feeling is more-or-less mutual. It would be very much appreciated. Your old friend and dearest villain, Steven (written in conjunction with Dr. Two-Brains)."

Clearly, she had figured out the puzzle of the note and he could only hope it had provided some enjoyment, what with the necessity to use a Dictionary and context clues to solve it.

For now, he gazed anxiously at the sound booth in hopes that she would soon say something in response.

Instead, she made her way down to where he stood, still clad in her princess gown, looking like some kind of surreal goddess or nymph in the midst of the sparkle and heady glow of the lights.

And in that moment, he felt truly unworthy to even breathe the same air.

"Is this really how you feel?" she asked softly.

He swallowed. "Yes. Just say it, and I'll bring him back. But do it quickly, or I might change my mind."

Her smile just grew as she surveyed him in awe.

"You'd really do that?"

"Yes!" he insisted. "For god's sake, what did you think all of this was for?"

"Somehow I knew," she said, seemingly just to herself. "Somehow I knew all along it would be you. That sounds silly, doesn't it?"

When he showed her by way of expression that she was only confusing him further, she wrapped arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. It was not quite passionate, being their first kiss, but it was certainly deep.

She pulled away long enough to whisper between their mouths, "I've fallen in love with both of you. Don't take either one away, please."

"So you want to keep this up, despite it all? You want your arch-nemesis to also be your lover? The city won't approve, Becky, you know that."

She was visibly taken back for a moment at the mention of her secret identity, but must have quickly realized that due to his intelligence being on par with hers', it was not difficult to put two and two together when Becky Botsford made herself known to him.

But it was only fair, as she knew his alter-ego almost as well as he did.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Doc," she grinned in reply, before diving in for another kiss.

Deep down, he simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief and celebrated his infinite mirth. This may have been her biggest and most triumphant defeat of him yet, but he found it impossible to care.

They were eventually married in what was undoubtedly the most strange and exciting wedding Fair City had ever witnessed.

In the middle of a public show-down between them (involving a ray-gun from Dr. Two-Brains' mouse zeppelin turning buildings into cheese) the Doctor spontaneously declared his love for her and attributed most of his villainy to the fact that he had to keep these emotions repressed. She rallied back that if he truly loved her so much he'd marry her right and here and now.

So he asked her if she would do him the honor and the witnessing civilians seemingly forgot that they were watching what was supposed to be a show down between good and evil, as they all immediately began to encourage her to say 'yes'. That was the only sensible response to any public marriage proposal, after all.

Of course, the both of them had plotted the whole thing out ahead of time, so the Doctor risked no chance of being completely humiliated. She agreed, feigning some reluctance, and the crowd displayed their overwhelming enthusiasm in response.

After snatching the nearest and most available Justice of the Peace, the ceremony was conducted atop the city's highest building and a few witnesses had even made it to the roof in time to see it all go down. Still, though, Captain Huggy-Face proudly retained his role of sole witness when he signed the certificate.

They had planned to float away immediately after to enjoy a honeymoon of visiting the various cheese capitols of the world, but tradition dictated that there should be a toast, so someone provided a bottle of champagne. Someone else brought in a wedding cake, and in a strange turn of events, the Butcher, Chuck, and the Grocery Store Manager put their talents together to create an impromptu reception buffet.

Not even a superhero and her villain were safe from society's expectations, apparently, so they both obediently went through the motions. It wasn't long, however, before the most popular wedding tradition of getting completely plastered was implemented by most of the guests. The newlyweds used this time to sneak into the zeppelin and make their getaway, but were still wished a fond, albeit drunken farewell from the few guests sober enough to understand what was going on.

Despite the warm reception, neither Word Woman nor Doctor Two-Brains were very surprised when their union was met with confusion and disapproval for a good five years afterward. Many people, villains and civilians alike, found the concept of a husband and wife still being arch-enemies that battled each other a bit hard to process.

When either was asked the simple question of why, they usually responded with a quote.

"Happiness is being married to your arch-nemesis, after all. Isn't that what they say?"

This was usually met with something along the lines of, "I think the saying is, happiness is being married to your best friend."

And the answer was simple.

"I don't really see the difference."