Work Text:
"If you’ve lost your key again, you’re not getting another," Hermann says, sidestepping past Newton’s hunched form on the steps.
Or tries to, anyway, Newton reaches out with remarkable speed to nearly trip him, his hand actually grabbing the base of Hermann’s cane with unsurprising gall.
"Uuuuh, actually," Newton says slowly, in a tone that Hermann has long learned signals something very irritating. “Don’t get too mad, but… You might not like what you find behind that door."
Hermann shakes Newton’s hand from his cane, then takes a breath, feeling the edges of a scowl pull at his cheeks.
"But it’s not my fault," Newton exclaims.
"Unlikely," Hermann disagrees with no little irritation, “It’s always your fault."
"It is not - remember the cat thing? That was Amal."
"Oh, one instance, quite the pattern," Hermann acknowledges sarcastically. He looks down at the key in his hand, them palms it for a moment, rolling his eyes. “Now, what have you done to my only form of comfort in this damnable country?"
"Well… It’s not so much what’s been done, as what’s inside," Newton says slowly, raising his eyebrows and gesturing oddly with his hands. “But again - I didn’t ask for this."
Hermann hums lowly, pursing his lips. “Remember when you said it was not your fault, barely a minute ago? Asking for it, or not asking for it, implies quite differently."
Newton glares a moment, then leans against the railing with the ghost of a pout, gesturing him towards the door. “It wasn’t my … Just go in, I’ll get ready for the screaming out here."
Hermann rolls his eyes as he steps back in front of the door. "I do not scream," he then mutters to himself, turning the key. “Not that you’d listen.”
He’s slightly surprised when Newton does exactly as he promised, staying out on the steps as he sets his attaché next to the coat-rack. He curls the jacket in tighter as he steps further into the house, just in case, and braces himself for some nameless horror, but everything seems completely normal. The entryway is quiet and clean - though maybe that’s not normal - and up the stairs seems clear, along with…
He croaks, slightly shamed to admit that he felt for just a moment like running right back out the front door, and the only thing that keeps him rooted is the fact that Newton expects him to do just that.
Greeting him on the far side of the lounge is an enormous tank, containing an equally giant pair of lice. Admittedly, it’s a very nice tank, some sort of kaiju skin-like facade sloping up the back, but again, in his lounge. He warily steps closer, watching with some kind of shock as one lands on the bottom to crawl around before shooting to the top and skittering onto the (hopefully) faux skin.
"So," Newton says from just next to his shoulder, startling him. “I kind of came home and they were there? So… I might admit it’s my fault."
"Considering they apply to your field of study and yours alone, that the obvious assumption," Hermann manages to say, voice rising in pitch as he speaks, ending with a slight groan of disgust when the two mites start to nibble at each other. “They’re revolting, I want them out - Out. Now."
"How would I even do that!?" Newton exclaims, spreading his arms wide as he walks in front of tank, displaying the obvious fact that it out lengths his arm span, then crossing them and shrugging almost violently. “It’s a nice present though right?"
"No," Hermann says, frowning and narrowing his eyes, leaning forward into Newton’s space. “Either these despicable things are gone, or you are."
Newton takes a breath then closes his mouth, leaning back after a moment and raising his eyebrows. “But - "
"It does not need to make sense as long as they are gone within the week," Hermann says swiftly, eyeing the tank warily before he begins to take off his jacket. “We can put fish in the tank, if you’d like, but the rest needs to be gone.”
"Dude, Hermann, the problem - "
"No problem," Hermann interrupts sharply, folding his jacket over his arm. “Give them away to a zoo, or an exotic animal enthusiast - as long as I do not have alien creatures in my sitting room, I could not care."
Newton hums thoughtfully, then nods a few times. “We could eat them," he proposes, raising his eyebrows. He turns to the tank, tilting his head, then back at Hermann, “That was joke."
"Yes, I know," Hermann responds with a sneer. “I know everything, including that you’re giddy as a schoolboy right now."
Newton rolls his eyes in a way that looks painful, huffing and crossing his arms with a small shake of his head. “A little, maybe," he agrees after a moment, spinning on his heel. “They’re just so awesome, man, come on - I pay half the bills, why can’t I get a pet?"
"Return them," Hermann reiterates, narrowing his eyes. “Unless you would like to revisit your habit of sleeping in laboratories across the planet."
"Okay, you wouldn’t, so you can stop fronting there," Newton says, spreading his hands and smiling crookedly. “And again, I don’t really know where they came from; it’s not like they came with a receipt!"
Hermann glares a moment, determined not to get distracted by the creatures dancing around behind Newton’s head, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “What kind of lunatic would have the sheer resources to - To even - "
"Actually, I can think of one guy? But he’s dead," Newton interrupts with a shrug, mouth turned down. “I thought, anyway - He got eaten, like, right in front of me."
Hermann continues to pinch the bridge of his nose, though it’s doing little to ease his state of mind.
"He could be alive," Newton nods slowly, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. “But that’d amazing - I’d want to do tests on him, not that I’d be able to get him in a lab."
Hermann glances up with narrowed eyes, as his mind gets caught up on another thought, one that someone manages to overtake alien parasites - probably by whatever insanity he caught from Newton. “You are not due back for another hour.”
Newton looks confused for a moment, then raises his eyebrows, tongue clicking slightly through his teeth. “You know, that’s because…" He laughs nervously, then gestures at the tank, “But that doesn’t matter, there’s like kaiju shit in the house, dude. Look at them - like what are we even going to feed them? Mummified guinea pigs?"
"Has the university already sacked you?" Hermann asks, jaw tightening slightly. He believes at least one of his colleagues would have said something, maybe even a simple rumor, but he’d heard nothing.
Newton’s brilliant, no one would dispute that, but he doesn’t exactly fit the mold of tenured professor, and though Hermann was often acerbic about it, that’s grown mostly artificial, while certain people at the university are much more demonstratively genuine about it. He’s witnessed more mocking whispers than he’s strictly comfortable with, and once tripped a woman when he heard her imply that Newton must be a kaiju apologist, as if such a thing could exist. Afterwards, even he’d been slightly shocked, but managed to explain it away to her and himself that he must’ve just slipped at a coincidental moment, in return, they’d both known it was a lie.
Newton rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, appearing to resign himself into giving an actual answer. “No," he sighs, running a hand through his hair, then turns towards the couch - which has been shoved up against a window - and slumping into it. “I just… I taught my classes and there wasn’t really a reason for me to be there any longer, so I left early. No big deal."
"And your lab hours," Hermann prompts, leaning forward with both hands on his cane, eyes narrow.
"Well uh, I - Fine, " Newton huffs and crosses his arms, almost like a petulant child. “This place just isn’t like I thought, you know? For one, they don’t think my experience at the PPDC was a form of legitimate research, and another… Well, this morning the Dean called me in and said I had to ‘cover up’ because apparently we’re living sixty years ago and tattoos aren’t conducive to academic legitimacy at this university." His voice goes higher pitched as he exaggeratedly mocks the Dean, tilting his head back and forth. He looks up to Hermann a moment later, eyes lighting up, “I should become a super villain... You want to be my sidekick?"
Hermann rolls his eyes, “I really can’t even fathom why I’ve stuck with you this long."
"Partner, then? We can dress the mites up; they’ll be our little sidekicks," Newton amends, looking away and back to the tank. He visibly bites back some sort of frown, settling into something more of a grimace. “I wish we hadn’t gotten fired."
Hermann resists agreeing and turns his head slightly, so he can pretend he’s not talking around a scurrying, alien elephant in the room. “You were invited to Sydney, were you not? You should have give it more thought."
Newton actually scoffs, not sounding in the least offended. "Dude, you know you’re not getting rid of me,” he says, quite patronizingly, then tilts his head and narrows his eyes curiously, “Unless you want to go - is this you wanting to go? Because I would go."
Hermann narrows his eyes. “Newton.”
Newton huffs, leaning back into the couch once more and tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. “We could call the government? But I feel like they’d fine us up the ass, too, then maybe invent some sort of felony to charge us with."
"Never have I been so thankful to have you as a flatmate," Hermann says sarcastically, glancing back at the tank for a moment before heading towards the entryway to finally put his coat away, resolving to avoid the lounge until it’s devoid of alien life and the faint scent of ammonia.
“Flatmate,” Newton returns with edge. “Whatever.”
Hermann's distracted from that particular call out, his sneering return paused, when he turns from hanging his jacket to catch a vaguely recognizable figure marching in through the still open doorway.
The memory of this man is tinged with the odd feeling of near wrongness that he's come to associate with the thoughts that were once Newton's, and much like the occasional, near torturous, ghostly prickle of a tattoo gun about his entire body, he's more weary than anything about it all.
"Mr. Chau," Hermann greets with a sarcastic twist of his mouth. "So good to see you."
Chau folds his hands, giving Hermann a quick, slightly imposing frown. "I've never met you."
"No," Hermann agrees, narrowing his eyes. He glances at the empty street behind Chau, suspicious at the quiet entrance, the lack of conspicuous transportation, then returns dubiously making eye contact. "I'd quite like to return some rather disgusting contraband that's been recently found in my front lounge."
Chau actually chuckles, shaking his head, then tries to push past.
He's obviously under the incorrect impression that Hermann will tolerate being dismissed like some sort of surly child, but to his credit doesn't flinch when Hermann stops him with a cane against his chest.
"Well, isn’t this unexpectedly feisty," Chau says, mouth twisting up in some ghastly imitation of a smile, revealing the metallic tint of his incisors.
"Mr. Chau, you have on two occasions in a very short period of time nearly gotten my partner eaten by monsters, and while he seemed to greatly enjoy both instances upon reflection, I have not," Hermann delivers with a narrow look, rolling his cane slightly. "And while there is nothing I'd enjoy more than returning the favor, most regrettably the most I could do is relieve you of that other eye."
Chau turns into the cane, leaning close and into Hermann's space. "I doubt someone like you could even move fast enough."
Hermann scowls, twisting the cane further and swallowing back the familiar contempt at the mere implication that he's somehow less than some stocky, cyclops of a man.
"He's already got you there," Newton interrupts, giving the both of them a grimacing look. "Seriously, like - "
"So, step back and stop acting a fool, little man," Chau practically growls, getting further into Hermann's face. It's a primitive tactic, really; the man puts on a show, but he's clearly little more than a particularly clever street brawler.
"I meant Hermann, actually," Newton corrects, gingerly reaching up and drawing his finger along a small seam in the cane. "Though I've never actually seen him in action, dude, so go right ahead - could be exciting."
Hermann rolls his eyes and gives Newton a narrow, scolding look, hoping to get across the sheer stupidity in giving away an upper hand even this small.
Chau pauses and raises a barely perceptible brow, appearing to actually peer down at the cane with some curiosity. He grumbles something with a sneer a moment later, stepping back.
"Seriously surprised to see you alive, man, ‘cause you got straight up swallowed," Newton asks, tipping back on his heels and raising his eyebrows. "Like, for a long time."
"Take more than that to kill me," Chau says gruffly, straightening out his jacket and cocking his chin. "So, whatcha think of the lice?"
"He hates them," Hermann says sharply.
"They're totally awesome," Newton says, voice growing with the excitement of a boy on Christmas morning, all his earlier apprehension at Hermann's reaction having fallen completely by the wayside. He clasps both his hands together for a silent moment, first tapping his chin then pointing at Chau, "But I am suspicious of your motivations, so also wary of them."
Chau tilts his head, and Hermann's pretty sure he's getting eyed up a moment before the man turns back to Newton.
"Think of it as thanks for making my business even more profitable," Chau responds after a moment, mouth quirked up as he steps further into the house.
Hermann grinds his teeth, narrowing his eyes and following as Chau makes some sort of slow walking circuit about the house until landing in the kitchen. Newton seems slightly confused about it too, humming thoughtfully and tapping the glass of the tank as they pass, then, after entering the kitchen, slides his elbows against the stone of the counter to give Chau a disbelieving look.
" 'S a nice place," Chau says, grabbing an apple off the counter.
"Yeah, it's awesome - What's the real reason?" Newton asks, tapping his fingers against the stone, his rings clacking in time to the damnable cuckoo clock that always makes Hermann's teeth clench, but for some unfathomable reason Newton treats like a priceless heirloom.
Chau doesn't answer right away, instead bites into the apple, taking much longer to chew than Hermann is strictly comfortable with - it's clearly prefacing something either very unfriendly or absolutely moronic.
"I'd like you to work for me," Chau says, wiping his lip with a thumb and tilting his head. "The critters are part of the deal."
Hermann scoffs, rolling his eyes, but Newton seems legitimately shocked, eyebrows going up. He then starts making some sort of strangled clicking noise, a familiar one which is associated with that now infamous piece of kaiju brain, when it managed to show up still half alive for Newton to coo at for hours. It doesn't spell well for good decision making, either way.
"I need someone who knows his shit, and you’ve proven to know your shit," Chau explains, taking another bite of the apple.
It's an effective conversation block, and it also makes Hermann want to rip it from his fingers and beat him with it. He knows less than he's comfortable of Chau even with Newton's memories, and is even more discomfited by the implication that Chau thought it appropriate to offer someone a job after having infected their lounge with giant, alien parasites, then invaded their kitchen.
Then again, such a thing could count as practically courting to depending on the mark, so predictably, Newton barely seems to mull it over before he purses his lips, humming slightly.
"What would I be doing?"
"Are you insane?" Hermann interrupts sharply, giving him an incredulous look.
"Can I at least acknowledge it as an option?" Newton exclaims, straightening up and gesturing widely. "Let me acknowledge it."
"No," Hermann says, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. "Are you an idiot - It's the Chinese - ?" He cuts himself off, glaring at Chau for a moment, "Some mob, I'm sure, anyway."
"I prefer racketeering," Chau says dryly, setting his apple core in the center of the counter.
"Oh yes, of course," Hermann mutters mockingly under his breath.
"Exactly! And I bet he would've give me fuckin pink slips for tattoos," Newton scoffs, crossing his arms. "And I could do everything I wanted without some Dean breathing down my neck constantly for me to publish or perish."
"You really should publish more," Hermann hums, quirking his mouth down.
"I don't want to - it's my research, not theirs," Newt says, scowling and huffing down at his arms. "So I am thinking about this."
"Oh please, you've already decided," Herman hisses angrily, near slapping the counter as he leans forward. "And I don't like it."
"Well that sucks for you, but it's happening, and I'm keeping the lice,"
"Good, take them," Hermann dismisses, turning away. "I'm sure they'll be very happy to return to Hong Kong - "
"Don't be so melodramatic - "
Hermann scoffs, debating a scant moment before turning back and pointing. "You are not one to be casting stones in that department, Newton."
"You two are like a damn telenovela," Chau interrupts boredly, clicking his fingers against the counter. "No one but me is going back to Hong Kong, and that includes the lice."
"I don't want the lice," Hermann says, scowling and near hissing through his teeth. "They're eyesores and - And illegal."
"Eh," Chau responds, shrugging. "Everything's a little illegal." He pulls out a knife, flipping it up and out with gusto then stabbing an orange, needlessly violent about it as he starts to peel the rind.
Something about the knife itches in the back of Hermann's mind, but he ignores it in favor of gathering his thoughts, rubbing at one of his temples. "You can't simply leave the University, there’s procedure."
"Doesn't have to," Chau says, in a tone that implies it’s obvious.
"Yeah - wait," Newton interjects, pulling the bowl of fruit away from Chau and pushing himself in next to Herman, their shoulders now pressed together as he leans in with narrowed eyes at Chau. "Why not? Academics are like the tip top of the arrogant dick pyramid, I forgot I was too cool for them."
"Cover up a couple tattoos, whatever, deal with it," Chau shrugs, clearly apathetic on the subject. "Good cover, good place to get supplies."
"A couple tattoos," Hermann scoffs under his breath, rolling his eyes.
Newton gives his a sarcastic look, scoffing sharply. "It's not like I had time to give him a strip tease -” He stops midsentence, turning to Chau. “How did you survive again? Magic?"
"Cut myself out of it's belly," Chau says, grinning crookedly and gesturing a lazy reenactment with the knife.
"Lovely," Hermann winces in disgust, and dearly hopes that knife was washed.
"Okay, uh - Anyway, if I'm working for you, but like, not, what am I even doing?" Newton asks, lifting a hand palm up. "Cause it’s starting to sound a lot like you just came here to annoy Hermann."
"Clone the little bastards, I'll give you about half a million each," Chau answers, pointing in the direction of the lounge. "I've already got buyers lined up - I just don't have the science to do it, but I bet you do."
There’s a silent moment, one which Hermann knows will end in something he’ll absolutely abhor, rather than the sane refusal of an insane offer..
"Oh," Newton intones softly, his eyes going a little blank as they fall to the counter in thought. He remains silent for near half a minute, then looks back up, frustratingly determined.
"I live with a fool," Hermann mutters, rolling his eyes with a scowl.
Newton nods to Chau slowly, starting to hum thoughtfully. "I've never cloned anything before, but that doesn't mean I can't."
"Great," Chau says, getting up, then for some odd reason as he passes around the back of the counter, claps Hermann on the back, and squeezes his shoulder tightly, his grin both threatening and wide. “What is it you do, again?”
“I doubt someone like you could even understand,” Hermann responds with a small sneer, glaring at the hand then back up at Chau.
Newton laughs nervously, poking his head around so Hermann is now sandwiched very uncomfortably, feeling as if this has turned towards some sort of genuine torture.
“Oh, this guy,” Newton says with an anxious tone, rolling his eyes and slowly stepping back with Hermann in tow, arm hooked around his neck. “He’s a theoretical astrophysicist, heavy on the theoretical - wouldn’t be much use to you.”
Hermann resists elbowing Newton in the chest and manages to extract himself from the hold of Chau, though Newton’s still latched on like some sort of literal representation of an albatross. “It’s perfectly literal, but I am not under any circumstances the market for a new career in crime, thank you.”
“Interesting that you think you’d have a choice,” Chau says thoughtfully, leaning forward with a dark twist of his lips.
“Okay, that’s not awesome,” Newton interjects, pulling back Hermann further to the point that they’re now practically plastered together, cane losing it’s usefulness as most of his weight is forced to balance on Newton. “Step off.”
Hermann’s mostly irritated, though still surprised at what seems like a legitimate attempt at defense, so resists the instinct to thwack anyone and everyone with his cane, and for the first time in memory allows himself to be manhandled until he’s standing just to the left of Newton.
“I’ll clone the mites,” Newton says, pointing up at Chau’s bored expression. “Well... Try to, but you can’t be an asshole to Hermann.”
“He started it,” Chau says flatly, peeling off the second to last section of his orange.
It’s a ridiculously immature thing to say, and Hermann just barely manages to avoid scoffing and returning the sentiment, something in the back of his mind effectively holding him back.
Newton tilts his head side to side, then shrugs wildly, “Okay, that’s probably true, but he doesn’t want anything from me, so the stipulation remains.”
“Oh, he wants something,” Chau disagrees dryly, mouth quirked up obscenely.
To his horror, Hermann actually feels the back of his neck heat up, and even worse, Newton’s expression soon gains more of a smirk. “This conversation is wildly inappropriate,” he mutters sharply.
“But that hasn’t been illegal for like half a century,” Newton dismisses easily, narrowing his eyes. “While what you’re asking me to do will always be, so deal?”
Chau actually seems to mull it over, leaning back against the counter. “Eh.”
“We’ll deal with it on a case by case basis,” Newton nods, apparently satisfied as he starts to hum something unfamiliar. “Great.... Okay,” he nods, then glances back towards the lounge. “Okay.”
“Now that’s settled, I got to go,” Chau says, clicking his tongue with something that sounds oddly like victory. “Things to kill, people to steal. We’ll be in touch.”
A moment later he’s gone, out the back door, obnoxiously gaudy shoes clicking the tile, then the concrete, as he disappears.
“Oh my god,” Newton exclaims suddenly, a few moments later.
“Finally realized you’re insane, have you?” Hermann asks with a deep sigh.
Newton turns around, brow furrowing and expression miffed. “He stole that shoe back.”
Hermann closes his eyes for a moment, reaffirming the fact this is his reality, then opens them to glare at Newton. “You have no clue what just happened, do you?”
“I agreed to clone an alien species for a man who might be the actual Devil,” Newton answers, matter of fact, almost like the words he’s saying make sense. “Seriously, no one could survive being eaten by that kaiju, yet there he was, so he can’t be human.”
Hermann scoffs sharply, pressing the heel of one hand into his brow. “It is incredibly frustrating that you continue to pursue being completely mad.”