Fic: The Answer to Life's Questions Is a Fried Banana (TGTWG)

Title: The Answer to Life's Questions Is a Fried Banana
Fandom: That Guy With The Glasses
Characters: Iron Liz/Linkara, Harvey Finevoice
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own none of them. Honestly.
Summary: Why is Harvey Finevoice baking? Iron Liz is more than happy to eat the surprisingly good results and pieces together at least part of the unexpected answer
A/N: Thanks to Overactor & Anthony for pushing me to finish this. I loe you both long time.

 

There were always a lot of shoes by the door. At least three well-worn pairs belonged to 90s Kid– one pair was almost fluorescent. Harvey always kept his footwear locked away in his room. Who knew what the ninja did with his? If he even had more than one pair. Did he wear shoes at all?

 

“I've got you under my skin. I've got you deep in the heart of me....”

 

Iron Liz's shoes tumbled under the table. A lost cause until she needed them again. She peeled off her jacket. Hopefully there was a soda left in the fridge. And maybe even some good news in the mail. It had been a really crappy day.

 

“I've tried so not to give in. I said to myself: this affair will never go so well.”

 

There was more than one soda left. And a pile of mail. Anything sent to their old addresses was taking a long time to get through.

 

“I'd sacrifice anything come what might. For the sake of havin' you near.”

 

And there was Harvey, drowning out whoever was mangling Sinatra on the radio, thank God. His afternoon poison was in a Martini glass. For once he'd taken his jacket off and was wearing an empty shoulder holster over his shirt. It flapped against his side as he reached around a lump of pastry for the sugar bag. Liz raised an amused eyebrow. This was new.

 

“Having a bake sale, Harvey?”

 

“Cute, kid.” His bare arms were covered in flour. His unlit cigarette was tucked behind his ear. “You’re in luck. Stick around and you’ll get a free sample.”

 

“Of what?”

 

Harvey pointed behind him. There was a pastry-lined dish on the counter and a couple of pans on the stovetop – one filled with lengths of bananas frying in some kind of caramel – “don’t ask.” – and the other held warm apples slices and cinnamon. It all looked and smelled really good. And there wasn't a recipe book in sight. This, she had to see.

 

“Mind if I watch?”

 

“Knock yourself out. But this ain't no spectator sport, kid.”

 

Liz held up the mail pile ruefully. “Oh, you won't know I'm here.”

 

“Don't you know, you fool, you never can win? Use your mentality, wake up to reality.”

 

Liz finished her soda. God, there were a lot of bills to pay. Great. Harvey was pressing simple flat edible figures onto the pastry pie lid.

 

“Are those....?”

 

“She wanted to model for me and who was I to refuse those baby blues?”

 

“Right.” Liz pushed a stack of envelopes his way. “All yours. For the clubs?”

 

“Looks like. You should come down one night, to the Cherry, you and the kid. You know you’d get in for free, V.I.P booth, the works.”

 

“Thanks, Harvey. I’ll let you know.”

 

“You do that. I’m gonna make sure you don’t forget.”

 

“Oh, I’m aware.”

 

Liz had moved on to drafting a review when the air got really rich with warm baking smells. Her stomach grumbled loudly. Perfect timing for that free sample.

 

“In spite of the warning voice that comes in the night, and repeats how it yells in my ear….”

 

The pie tasted fantastic. Somehow the sugared pastry figures decorating it were smirking at her. A definite Harvey Finevoice touch. Liz gave him a thumbs-up, her mouth full of perfect buttery pie crust and cinnamon and apple filling. An inanimate object could smirk at her all it wanted when the object in question tasted this damn good. It made the eating part even more satisfying. Geez, Harvey definitely had to bake more often.

 

Liz licked a run of sugary cinnamon off her wrist. “Where did you learn to bake?”

 

“All you've gotta do is spend quality time with some very domestic goddesses. The rest is cake.”

 

Translation – he still watched way too much daytime TV. Obviously it wasn’t all bad soap operas anymore.

 

“And there’s this dame…..”

 

“Of course there is.”

 

“….. and I’m practicing to show her my appreciation.”

 

Liz raised an eyebrow with a grin. Appreciation? Only Harvey could make that sound remotely classy. She spooned up the last of her dessert.

 

“Just so you know, you're making my next birthday cake.”

 

*

 

The apartment smelled of burned sugar, hopefully because Harvey was in the kitchen, not because Pollo was experimenting out the back again.

 

“Harvey?”

 

A sound that could have been “in here,” erupted from the kitchen. Linkara was leaning against the counter, a bowl in his hand and a spoon in his mouth. Harvey was slicing something – strawberries? There was also the ever-present bubbling pan of frying bananas. The smell had probably seeped into the wallpaper by now.

 

“You want some of this? My advice, take it before he makes out with it.”

 

“Hey, it's not that good!”

 

“Lying’s a character flaw in the kitchen, you know that, kid?”

 

The bowls were piled with meringues and thick layers of cream and, when Harvey absently but accurately dumped in a handful, fresh strawberries. Liz’s mouth watered. She hadn’t eaten anything except potato chips since the start of her early shift. The store had been completely busy the whole time and who could think about eating when the boss was saying no breaks until more damn Kindles got sold?

 

She finished her bowlful quickly and sagged back against the counter. God, what a day. Linkara handed her a beer. Liz smiled, her head drooping to almost rest against him.

 

“You distract him, I’ll grab the rest,” she mumbled under her breath, eyes still on the meringues.

 

“Please, you think I haven’t already tried that?”

 

Harvey laughed, still blocking any access to the food. “Give it your best shot, kid. Hey, not with the gun!”

 

*

 

“Does Linkara know that you use his Dragon Dagger to stir pudding?”

 

“Relax, the safety’s always on. And I clean it up real good after.”

 

“And he probably won’t ever find out. Unless……..”

 

“Okay, okay. What are we talking here, blueberry breakfast muffins like the ninja? Pumpkin bread? Those cookies with the chocolate chunks?”

 

“Apple pies, non-negotiable.”

 

“Done deal. You've got a talent here, kid. You know I’ve got a spot open at…..”

 

“Ask me next week.”

 

*

 

It was pretty instantly established that Harvey’s cupcakes were especially amazing. The chocolate centers were unbelievable. But it was something else about the cakes that caught Liz’s attention.

 

“Harvey, is there a reason your cupcakes always have pink frosting?”

 

Harvey didn't look up from where he was prepping cookies on a baking sheet. Dean Martin sang into the silence.

 

“Like the fella once said, ain't that a kick in the head?”

 

“You don't think it’s my color, kid?”

 

Liz laughed. “It's not the first that comes to mind.”

 

Harvey shrugged, the brim of his hat hiding his expression as he finished loading the tray and slid it into the oven.

 

“My head keeps spinning. I got to bed and keep grinning....”

 

Liz reached for her coffee. There was an extra mug of it on the counter. The ninja would take it when he was ready. Harvey had his at his elbow, thick with creamer and no sugar.

 

“I get requests. Pink wins at the polls. Sometimes you just can't fight city hall.”

 

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Liz ladled on the sarcasm.

 

Harvey grinned. “Don't believe me? My politics are pure.”

 

“I don't think it's your politics you're thinking with.”

 

“You wound me, kid.”

 

Liz put down her mug. There was another cupcake batch, freshly decorated, waiting on the counter. The pink frosting kind of weirdly reminded her of Insano's son. Who had a birthday coming up, according to the video rants that Insano regularly forced onto Liz's laptop.

 

Huh. That was actually a really good idea.

 

*

 

Linkara glared at them both. Harvey had a pen clenched between his teeth as he hunched over files, muttering a tune under his breath. He looked like he was worlds away. Liz smirked from where she was paging through a comic.

 

“It worked, huh?” she guessed.

 

“Worked? You do know Insano's probably going to take hostages now so he can get more cupcakes?”

 

Liz grinned. “You’re just mad you didn’t get to morph this time.”

 

“…..That is not what's important here.”

 

“Please, we won’t see that quack for weeks.” Harvey finally looked up. “You really think he's gonna focus on world domination when he's discovered a delicious science he hasn't conquered yet? You’re welcome.”

 

He got to his feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a date with a couple of dames and some fried bananas.”

 

*

 

The only hint of Insano seen during the next month was a quick video message from his son, chittering thank-yous for the birthday cakes. Probably a message his father didn’t know about. The little guy was pretty smart and clearly wasn’t the only one who’d liked the cupcakes

 

“I've got the world on a string, I'm sitting on a rainbow...”

 

Harvey was spooning fried bananas onto a plate. There was a pint of ice cream on the counter. Liz grinned. He was expecting company – Harvey never had people over - and she was supposed to be at work.

 

“You're in a good mood.”

 

Harvey didn't jump, he didn't even look startled, but he did pause. For Harvey Finevoice, that was absolute surprise. Liz smirked and took one of the bananas. They tasted really good. Nice caramel coating.

 

“I always am, kid. Don’t you have someplace to be?”

 

Liz shook her head, smirk only widening. “My shift got swapped yesterday. I was looking for the cupcake box to mail to Insano.”

 

Harvey nodded towards the fridge, his shoulders less tense now. Liz took her time, sliding the box out and checking the labeling. But there was no sign or sound of whoever Harvey had been plating up for. That was disappointing.

 

Then someone opened the apartment door and there was the young patter of sneakered feet into the kitchen. A girl - straight blond hair, wide brown eyes in a pixyish face, and wearing a bright pink top - slammed into view. She was heading straight for Harvey.

 

“Harvey! I can smell bananas!”

 

“Excellent work, detective.” Harvey shot an easy grin over his shoulder. “But how’d you know they’re for you?”

 

“Duh. There’s no one else….”

 

The girl stopped, noticing Liz for the first time, and shut her mouth immediately. She looked at Harvey, frowning.

 

“Detective Jenny, meet Iron Liz. Apple pie’s her weakness, don’t forget that,” Harvey smirked, pushing the brim of his hat up out of the way. “And this is Detective Jenny. The best there is.”

 

The girl, Jenny, chewed her lip. But whatever meaning had been hidden in Harvey’s words obviously got through because she grabbed a glass from a cupboard and headed straight for the fridge. When did Harvey get so good with kids? When had he become friends with any? Was he babysitting now?

 

“You want some?” Jenny asked Liz as she pulled a carton of orange juice out with only a little difficulty, going for the bowl of leftover blueberry cobbler second.

 

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

 

She knew her way around. Liz raised her eyebrows pointedly at Harvey, but he'd turned back to the plates. His jaw was clenched slightly, his only angry tell.

 

No one else being at home had clearly been the plan. Usually, the place was empty at this time of day. Except Harvey. And his guest.

 

Liz shook her head, trying to clear it. Okay, none of this was making sense. Had she walked into one of those alternate realities? Linkara had said the walls were pretty thin between them now.

 

The door opened again and this time, it was an older female voice around Harvey’s age.

 

“Harvey? Jenny?”

 

“Here, Mom,” Jenny called back. “Harvey’s making them just like you do.”

 

Mom?

 

Sure enough, a stranger with the same shaped face and big brown eyes as Jenny appeared in the doorway, shaking her coat off. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and the way she and Harvey locked eyes was pretty interesting. There was no way Liz was leaving the kitchen now. She set the box back down.

 

The stranger whirled at the noise and got that same look of worry-fear-dread on her face that Jenny had tried to hide under her frown. In complete contrast, Harvey now didn’t look worried at all.

 

“Nothing to sweat, Caro. This is Liz.”

 

Caro looked flustered but relaxed at Liz’s name and even smiled a little. She didn't move any closer however, choosing instead to watch her daughter pour another glass of juice and start liberally spooning out ice cream and cobbler onto the plates. Her daughter who was wearing a t-shirt almost the exact same color as the cupcake frosting.

 

Ah. There was one mystery solved. Liz leaned against the counter, watching. Harvey caught her eye.

 

“Don't you have a box to mail, kid?”

 

True, she did. But this was a lot more interesting.

 

“It can wait.”

 

“No, it can't.”

 

They stared at each other for a brief moment. Harvey was not joking, and it wasn't often he asked for privacy. He usually got that outside the apartment. Okay, message received. Liz grabbed the box.

 

“You need anything?”

 

“We're good.”

 

“So I see.”

 

Harvey glared but Liz waved with a grin and slipped out before he could say anything. Huh. Whatever she’d been expecting, that hadn’t even made the list. Harvey would love that.

 

*

 

When Liz next saw Harvey, he was outside the apartment building. He was smoking, the tip of the cigarette a glowing red ember in the dark. Liz slowed and took a place beside him. He'd know she'd have questions, so she didn't bother with small talk. Harvey appreciated honesty.

 

“So who are they?”

 

Harvey took a long drag of the cigarette before answering. “Special, kid. That's all you need to know.”

 

“Is Jenny your.....?”

 

“The mook you're thinking of is cooling his heels across the border. He won't be out for a while. But he's got friends.”

 

Okay. So they weren’t family. But they were special - because this was a totally new level of Harvey caring - and they were scared with good reason. Liz watched as Harvey blew smoke out in pretty perfect rings. Most of the tension was gone from his jaw now, but still.....Liz had come to expect mad scientists and lasers and magic guns and phantoms. Not something as raw and normal as this. It didn't fit. Maybe that was the point.

 

And somehow Harvey was still running his clubs successfully despite everything. He didn't seem human sometimes. That was always a possibility.

 

Liz pushed herself off the wall. She did have somewhere to be and somebody waiting for her. “I don't know what I could do to help but....”

 

Harvey grinned and crushed the cigarette butt under his shoe. He shoved his hands into his pockets, like the whole thing was completely casual and he was carrying it easily on his shoulders.

 

“Thanks, kid.”

 

When Liz looked back, he was a sharp-cut shadow against the day's fading colors. And he looked at home.

 

*

 

“So she's not his kid,” Linkara repeated.

 

“That's what he said.”

 

“Huh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You know, that's probably the most normal thing to happen around here ever?”

 

Liz nodded in agreement, halfway through a novel and half-watching as her boyfriend unscrewed the back of a toy morpher. At least, she was pretty sure it was a toy. It was difficult to tell which were just plain plastic and which were likely to zap her with an ancient mystical power source.

 

“That does explain the marker drawings in the bathroom,” Linkara pointed out. “I kinda assumed that was 90's Kid again.”

 

“It's probably half and half.”

 

“Yeah, I doubt the Youngblood montage is Jenny's work.”

 

Liz grinned and adjusted the cuffs of the button down she was wearing, one of Linkara's, over her Poison shirt. “Harvey trusts them, a lot.”

 

“I'll have Pollo run a scan the next time they're here, get their signatures and files just in case. Ha!”

 

Whatever Linkara had done caused a spark. Then something inside the guts of the morpher glowed bright green.

 

“Is it supposed to do that?”

 

“I have no idea.”

 

*

 

Harvey baked crisp apple turnovers that weekend. Liz got the biggest piece and was handed the ice cream first. It was banana flavor.

 

“Bribery always works, Harvey.”

 

“You're talking to the master, kid.”

 

*

 

Sometimes, weeks could be measured in baking. Éclairs, fruit tarts, and bread. All practices by Harvey consumed by whoever was in the apartment. Whatever he did with the later perfected products, nobody knew for sure. Only that according to Pollo's files, Caro had worked mainly in bakeries and cafes during the past decade. Her current employment was unknown.

 

(“Guerrilla baking?”

 

“.....That'd be awesome!”)

 

There was the pan of lemon bars that Jenny made the first time only Liz was in the apartment with her. Harvey – with an unexplained black eye – had been out with Caro. They’d gotten back smelling of smoke and something really sweet. Their clothes had been smudged with powdered sugar. They left Jenny with Liz and Linkara more often after that.

 

Or it could all be measured in boxes marked for Insano. He was still on the hook, though over the last week he'd tried teleporting in to snatch the recipe. Pollo’s shields always kept him out. His video rants got angrier. He wasn’t wearing his surgical gloves anymore. Instead his bare hands and bitten-down nails were covered in flour.

 

-the end