isabella ₍^. .^₎⟆

Robert lifts his head from his cubicle after hearing the murmurs and sees you wearing your signature armor and the little girl... wearing a Mecha Man's t-shirt?

You knocked once in Blazer's office and forgot to close the door behind you and your daughter. The blonde blinks twice at your daughter and then at you.

"What is happening right now?"

You cleared your throat. “Sorry for the… unconventional arrival. My nanny canceled last minute and the school needs proof she’s recovered. I’ll keep her out of everyone’s way.”

"I don't think this is the right place for a kid, Y/N. This isn't daycare—" Blazer said, keeping it as professional as she could, even though she didn't like telling you that. She knows the struggles.

Robert appeared behind you before she could build momentum. The man moved like someone who had spent his life punching asteroids but was trying very hard not to look like he had spent his life punching asteroids.

“It’s fine! he said, with this easy shrug. “I can keep an eye on her. Chase owes me a favor, he’ll help. No disruption.”

You spun toward him, incredulous. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” His smile had a softness you had never seen during briefings or combat drills. “Besides, Chase loves kids. And your kid seems pretty awesome already.”

Your daughter peeked out at him at that exact moment, big eyes blinking slowly and not breaking eye contact. Robert drew a kind smile and was already holding the door for you to get out of the office with your daughter.

"Robert, you really don't have to. I don't want to put more pressure on you, and I'm pretty sure Chase doesn't love kids."

“You’re not putting pressure on me,” he said. “You’re being a parent. That’s it. Nothing heroic about it, nothing villainous either. Just human.”

Your daughter clung to your hand like a tiny barnacle, watching him with this shy suspicion that children reserve for adults who seem too cool to be real. The Mecha Man painted across her shirt practically glowed under the office lights, and Robert kept sneaking glances at it like it was a ghost from a past life waving at him.

“She’ll be fine,” he continued. “She’s already got half the office wrapped around her finger. Chase included. He pretends he hates kids, but he cries every time Beefs licks his shoe.”

You snorted once, then sighed. “Still… it feels like a lot.”

“It’s not,” he said. “Let us help.”

His certainty hit you harder than it should have. You crouched down to your daughter’s level, brushing a few rebellious hairs off her forehead.

“Sweetheart,” you murmured, “can you introduce yourself?”

She blinked up at you, then very slowly rotated toward Robert, as if turning to face a giant robot. “My name is Faye,” she whispered into her own collar.

Robert crouched down too, hands resting on his knees, smile wide and warm. “Hi, Faye. That’s a cool name. I'm Robert.”

Faye fidgeted, twisting her fingers in the hem of her shirt. Robert pointed gently at her chest.

“That is a fantastic Mecha Man shirt.”

It was like someone flipped a switch inside her. Her entire face brightened, all shyness melting instantly. “Do you know who he is?!”

“I might’ve heard of him once or twice,” he replied with an innocent shrug.

She beamed, absolutely radiant, and Robert looked like he’d just been handed a secret he didn’t know he missed.

You pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Alright, my brave girl. Listen to Robert. Behave. Be polite. And don’t touch anything that glows or hums.”

She nodded solemnly, the vow of a small warrior.

You straightened and exhaled. “Robert… thank you. Seriously. Thank you. I owe you, like, a thousand thank-yous.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “Just go do your job. We’ve got this.”

Faye slipped her hand into his without hesitation. The image of her tiny fingers curled around his large ones tugged at something deep in your chest.

You turned to head toward the mission floor, feeling lighter than you expected. Behind you, Faye’s excited chatter drifted through the hallway. Robert had pull a chair by his side for her to sit.

“Do you think Mecha Man likes apple juice?” Faye said dangling her legs.

Robert’s gentle laugh followed. “I have a feeling he does.”

Faye kept swinging her legs, tapping her heels lightly against the chair as if powering some invisible engine. Robert pulled his own chair a little closer to hers so she wouldn’t feel swallowed by the giant desk, and the two of them settled into this strangely natural orbit like they’d always been meant to share a corner of an office together.

“What else do you know about Mecha Man?” Robert asked, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You seem like an expert.”

Faye straightened her spine with a smirk. “He saved a whole city once. And he fought a giant flame guy. And he did it with only one booster fist because the other one was broken.”

Robert huffed a quiet laugh through his nose. “That was a rough day.”

She blinked. “You sound like you were there.”

“I… watch a lot of TV.”

That satisfied her completely.

She swung her legs again. “My mommy says he was the coolest hero ever. But I think he’s also the nicest.” Then she paused, thinking hard. “And I like how he doesn’t yell at anyone even when he’s mad.”

Robert couldn't hide his smile

“Well,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I think he’d be very happy to hear that.”

Before she could reply, claws clicked against the polished floor. A snuffling sound. A sneeze. A thud.

Then a tiny but somehow wide dog barreled around the corner like a furry meteor.

“Beef!” Robert said, though his tone was more delighted than scolding.

Faye gasped so dramatically her entire torso lifted. “Dog!”

Beef trotted straight toward her, tail whipping so hard his whole back end wiggled. Faye dropped from the chair, landing on her knees, arms wide open.

Beef didn’t hesitate. He nudged his head right into her chest and licked her chin after deciding that she was perfect.

Faye squealed with joy and grabbed his face gently between her little hands. “Hi, Beef! You’re so fluffy!”

Chase arrived two seconds later, out of breath and annoyed in a very theatrical way.

“For the record,” he said, pointing at Beef, “he is supposed to stay in the lounge. He is not supposed to escape because he smelled ‘a new small human.’ His words. Not mine.”

Robert grinned. “Chase, meet Faye.”

Chase raised both eyebrows, then crouched down to her level. “So you’re the tiny chaos agent causing all this disruption.”

Faye blinked once.

Then narrowed her eyes.

Then delivered her judgment, very calmly: “You look like someone who takes naps at work.”

Robert choked.

Beef wagged harder, apparently approving of the burn.

Chase sputtered, hand over his chest. “I—what? Excuse me—”

Faye nodded, sealing the deal. “It’s okay. Old people get tired.”

Robert burst out laughing, loud enough that a few heads peeked over cubicles. Chase stood up, muttering something your daughter didn't catch while Beef sat proudly beside Faye like her loyal knight.

Faye hugged Beef again, burying her face in his fur. Robert watched the scene unfold, arms crossed loosely over his chest, eyes gentler than you had ever seen.

“You two are going to get along,” he murmured.

Faye popped her head up. “Robert? Can Beef sit next to me?”

“He already decided he’s your bodyguard,” Robert said. “You might as well make it official.”

Faye giggled, grabbed Beef’s ear, and began explaining (very seriously) the entire Mecha Man lore to both of them.

Robert listened too. Because hearing a child passionately recount his own adventures without knowing who he was? That was magic for him.

In the break, he took Faye to the vending machine and had to pick her up to let her choose whatever candy she preferred after promising that she wouldn't tell her mom. The bag with her lunch perfectly prepared was long forgotten.

"I want the twinkies!" She said with a bright smile, tapping the glass, then she added: "Please!"

"That's the best decision you could ever make, kiddo." Robert said, sitting Faye in the table while he pressed the buttons to take two packs of twinkies and a cup of coffee for him.

Then all of a sudden, Faye says: "My mommy called you a twink once."

She opened the plastic without any problems, staring at the letter of it. Faye didn’t say it with mischief. She said it with the same open sincerity she used to declare the sky blue or Beef fluffy.

Robert froze like someone had unplugged him.

“Uh,” he managed. “She… what now?”

“A twink.” Faye nodded gravely and shoved half a Twinkie into her mouth. “But she said it very nicely.”

Robert had faced down plasma cannons with more composure. His brain performed several regrettable somersaults. “Ha. Did she? Funny word to use... What else does she say about me?”

Faye swung her legs and examined the second Twinkie. “Mommy says you have twink energy. And that she likes your voice. And your arms.”

Robert’s soul left his body, filed for leave, and never returned.

“She—your mom? She said that? About my arms?” His voice cracked like a teenager bumping into their crush at a mall.

Faye nodded so hard her ponytail slapped her cheek. “She says you’re very polite. And she says you don’t talk too much but when you do, it makes her tummy feel funny.” Faye tapped her own belly like she was solving a medical mystery. “I think that means she likes you.”

Robert blinked slowly. “Does she. Huh. That’s… information.”

He sipped his coffee. Burned his tongue. Tried to pretend he hadn’t burned his tongue.

Faye continued, blessedly oblivious to the concept of emotional privacy: “Sometimes when she comes home from work she says, ‘Robert said the funniest thing today,’ and then she laughs and laughs even though I don’t know the joke because it’s about weird stuff.”

Robert set his coffee down a little too fast. “She laughs? I make her laugh?”

“Yep.” Faye took a dainty bite of Twinkie and spoke around the crumbs. “She smiles when she says your name.”

Robert attempted to gather his dignity and ended up gathering Beef instead, who had waddled over and pressed his snout into Robert’s knee like you okay, buddy? you need grounding? you spiraling?

Robert scratched Beef’s ears, eyes darting anywhere but Faye’s tiny truth-bomb face.

“Well… your mom’s pretty cool too,” he said, trying for casual. “She’s… brave. And kind. And she does this thing where she makes jokes under her breath that nobody else hears, but I hear. And she’s nice to me for some reason.”

“That’s ‘cause she likes you,” Faye said, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. She leaned forward. “Do you like her?”

Robert inhaled his coffee steam like that might help. “Uhh. I think your mom is… neat.”

Faye squinted like an old wise hermit. “Neat is a word mommy uses for socks.”

Robert winced. “Okay. Stronger than neat.”

Beef barked once, as if urging him on.

“Your mom is… great.” Robert rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s hilarious. And terrifying. And she’s smarter than everyone on the team. And she makes good cookies. And she leaves missions for you, which is kind of beautiful, actually.”

Faye tilted her head. “So you do like her.”

He exhaled in defeat. “Yeah, kiddo. I do.”

She grinned “I’m telling her.”

Robert nearly levitated off the break-room floor. “PLEASE do not tell her.”

Faye hopped off the table, hands on her hips. “You can’t stop me. I’m fast.”

Robert held up both hands, laughing helplessly. “Kid, listen. There’s a very complicated adult dance happening here, and your mom scares me in, like, a deeply attractive way.”

Faye gasped dramatically. “Mommy likes your arms and you like her scary!” She clapped. “You should get married.”

Robert paled. “We’re not getting married yet. Wow, Faye, that’s—ambitious.”

She shrugged. “Beef agrees.”

Beef barked again, absolutely supporting the union.

Robert buried his face in his hands. “I’m so fucked.”

"Fucked?" Faye tilts her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. The fear on Robert's face is instant.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. We don't say that word, Faye."

"You just said it."

"But that's because I'm dumb. People who are dumb say that word. You aren't dumb, right?"

"Nope!"

"Then don't say that word ever again."

Thank God, that was enough for her to not think about it anymore. Robert felt his chest smaller after the talk with the girl, or maybe it was just his heart getting bigger. He tried to not pay much attention to it, knowing that you kinda have a crush on him took him out a little.

Robert tried very hard to focus on anything except the emotional supernova blooming in his ribcage. He wiped a crumb off Faye’s cheek tenderly, then let her scamper back toward Beef, who immediately flopped over so she could rub his belly.

He watched her for a second. Kids are startling creatures, tiny engines of sincerity who toss truth around like confetti. And she had tossed a whole bucket at him.

He leaned back in the break-room chair and told himself to get it together. You liked him? That wasn’t supposed to be real. You were… well, you. The one who took disasters as lightly as he took paper cuts. The one who made terrible puns under your breath because you knew he’d hear. The one who had a daughter who loved Mecha Man without knowing she was sharing snacks with him.

He looked down at his hands and they were trembling. Just a little. Just enough.

The next hours of the shift were more relaxed, Faye was starting to get sleepy, dropping her head in Robert's shoulder with her little fists curling in Robert's shirt. He scooped her without any trouble, letting her sit comfortably on his lap and falling asleep almost instantly.

Robert sat very still, like if he breathed wrong, the spell would break.

And then the shift ended.

The elevator chimed.

You stepped out.

You froze.

Because there they were. Your daughter asleep in Robert’s lap, her cheek pressed directly against the broadest part of his chest, his hand resting gently on her back.

Robert looked up at the sound of your boots.

And for one heartbeat, the world went oddly quiet.

Something warm and ridiculous and enormous unfurled inside your chest, blooming like those butterflies people always talk about. But butterflies were too polite. This felt more like a whole migrating colony of cosmic moths slamming around in your ribs.

Robert opened his mouth, closed it, then spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, instinctively soft so she wouldn’t wake.

“She got tired,” he said quietly. “Didn’t want to say she was tired, obviously, because that would imply she’s mortal.”

You stepped closer, mindful of the moment’s fragile gentleness. “Yeah,” you whispered. “She does that. Fights sleep like it insulted her.”

He smiled, eyes flicking back to Faye asleep on him. “She’s… a really good kid.”

“She likes you,” you murmured.

The words slipped out without your usual protective quips. And you felt the heat crawl up your neck as soon as you’d said it.

Robert swallowed. Hard. His fingers twitched once against Faye’s shirt but didn’t move.

For a moment you just stood there. Close but not touching, both speaking softly.

“I should take her,” you whispered, stepping forward.

But Robert didn’t move, not out of reluctance, more like uncertainty. As though passing her over might feel like waking up from some strange dream he wasn’t ready to leave.

You reached out, gently lifting your daughter into your arms. She murmured and nestled into your neck, arms dangling loose with exhaustion.

Robert watched you with an intensity that almost ignited the air between you.

You adjusted Faye’s weight, then looked up at him. “Thank you… for all of this. I mean it.”

He leaned close enough you felt the heat of him, close enough the whisper brushed your ear.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

A pause.

Breathless honesty slipped into his tone. “I liked being around her. And I… like being around you.”

Your heart stuttered so violently you wondered if he could hear it.

You whispered back, “Did she told you anything?”

He huffed out a helpless laugh. “She told me just enough.”

Another pause. A charged one.

He looked down at his hands, then back at you.

Robert’s throat worked like he was swallowing gravel. Words hovered behind his eyes, trying to form, trying to gather the courage to jump the fence of his teeth. He wasn’t usually this skittish, you were a different kind of danger. The kind that could say no. The kind that could change everything.

His fingers flexed once, curling back into his palms. “There’s… something I should—”

Whatever he meant to say tangled itself into silence.

Your daughter’s sleepy weight in your arms, the faint warmth of her breath on your collarbone and the quiet hum of the building settling for the night. It all made the hallway feel like a snow globe of too-soft feelings.

You tilted your head just slightly. “Robert?”

The sound of his name seemed to shove him toward honesty. You watched him gather himself like someone preparing to leap across a very long, very uncertain gap.

“I was thinking,” he said, voice low and careful, “that maybe… sometime… maybe you and I could—”

He stopped again. Not because he changed his mind. Because fear punched him directly in the courage.

He cleared his throat. It didn’t help. “I mean, if you ever wanted to go somewhere. Not for work. Just… you know.”

You waited. Letting him work it out.

He squeezed his eyes shut once, like rebooting a very overwhelmed system, then tried again with a shaky exhale.

“I’d like to take you out.”

A beat.

“But if that makes you uncomfortable, or if it complicates things with Faye, or if you think it’s a terrible idea—”

“Robert.”

His mouth snapped shut.

Your eyes held his, steady in that dim hallway glow. He looked like a man braced for an explosion that might tear him in two.

You spoke gently. “You’re asking me out?”

He nodded with the smallest motion imaginable, as if anything bigger might spook his own resolve. “Yeah. I am.”

“I didn’t think you were capable of being this nervous,” you murmured.

He huffed something like a laugh, but it was shaky. “I’m terrible at this. Apparently asking you to dinner turns me into a malfunctioning vending machine.”

Your smile softened. “You didn’t malfunction.”

He gave a disbelieving snort. “I absolutely malfunctioned.”

“You tried,” you said. “You asked. That counts.”

A long breath left him, like he’d been holding it for twenty minutes.

“So… is that a yes?” he whispered, barely audible.

You shifted Faye in your arms and you stepped just one inch closer, letting the air between you warm.

“It’s a yes,” you said softly. “But we’re taking it slow. For her and for us.”

Relief hit him so visibly it softened the line of his shoulders, loosened something taut in his expression. A smile broke through the nerves.

“Slow is fine,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The elevator chimed again behind you, a polite reminder that the world still existed outside this moment.

You backed toward it, eyes still on his. “Goodnight, Robert.”

His voice followed you in a rough whisper that held far more than the words themselves.

“Goodnight.”

The doors slid closed and you had the dizzying sense that something had just begun like the first quiet click of a lock sliding open.