To those who are reading this: the login page of fanfic seems to have crashed, but I accessed my account through one of the pages in my history which wasn't the Login page. I used the "settings," link, but I think the "upload" or the "traffic stats" ones will work. Just so you know, if you were having trouble logging in like I was just a bit ago.
This particular fanfic is a Girl Genius fanfic...last week my friend introduced me to it and I just caught up with it yesterday. It is quite worth your time, I believe, and I recommend it highly! There wasn't all that much fanfic for it, however, so I figured I'd write out this little bunny and share it with everyone here. I hope you like it, I had fun writing it.
Also to GG fandom here on FF: I hate Tarvek and he should die a horrible death and Agatha should forget his stupid lying face. I'm also solving the "who runs Mechanicsburg? And who runs the Wulfenbach empire?" question with: two kids, one for the Heterodynes and one for the Wulfenbachs. Yes. Italics indicate the madplace in dialogue, regular text indicates rational & non-madsciency. Things with Klaus are left out because of reasons. Namely I'm too sad for him at the moment to try to find a way out of the mess he's in at the moment.
"De Lady Heterodyne, she iz in de madplace, und she tol' uz dat ennyvun who go in hyer leb vill get ded fester den ennytink tonight," Dimo grinned, leaning back on the door of one of Agatha's more dangerous labs. As one of her three most loyal Jagers, he trailed her around the castle when he could and made sure that anyone following her knew what kind of state she was in. He wasn't there to stop them, of course—he was a Jagerkin after all, and reveled in the brawls which resulted from unexpected intrusions into Agatha's space. Gil nodded once, reaching to unbutton his cloak.
"I've business with the Lady Heterodyne, Dimo," he said as he handed his cloak over to the one armed Jager. Dimo grinned impossibly wider before stepping aside with an exaggerated bow. The door, a massive automated one—programmed to only allow a grown spark or a Jagerkin through—whirred as Gil started to pull levers and twist cogs around to open the box surrounding the doorhandle. Arcs of electricity lit up his and Dimo's faces as he opened and closed various circuits.
"Hyou funeral den, Herr Baron von Vulfenbach," Dimo said before glancing just over Gil's head, his eyes wide with shock. "Und vhere is hyou het?" Gil spun a few more dials before he got the box to finally open—Agatha routinely changed the combination when she was particularly sparky. His hand found the handle easily, and as he turned it he answered the Jager who so faithfully looked after Agatha.
"In a safe place Dimo—I wear it when I'm in danger of needing it, don't worry…I don't plan on needing it tonight."
The lab was crackling with bright blue energy as Agatha worked frantically. The electricity was flashing blue and green around a writhing mass of wiring clanks barely secured to her workbench. Agatha's hands flew between her plans and notes and the wiring, smoothing her fingers along the frustrated clanks and growling endearments to them. Gil had grown up as a madboy. He was for the most part able to remain unaffected by the spark of others—but even still, it was difficult for him not to join together with her. Agatha's work was magnificent, and the compliments she would give to his work before shredding it to pieces were always gems. A Heterodyne spark would always be better than any other, even an excellent spark taught by Klaus Wulfenbach himself so Gil couldn't ever be mad at Agatha for improving his designs. She brought out the beauty in them.
"Agatha?" She didn't turn to see him, continuing to mutter happily to her tiny clanks as they calmed the wires and cables with her. Agatha needed no minions, she built her own. Tonight's project seemed to be somewhere along those lines—half minion clank, half new breed of Agatha Heterodyne clank.
"Aaaagatha?" Her head shot up and she stared at him, her goggles doing nothing to stop the chill heat of a breakthrough seeping through to him. The way she was looking at him would have had him at her side in a second on any other evening, helping her and seeing what she was up to—this feeling was why he fell in love with her, this right here. But not right now.
"Gil! Gil you have to see—" As she turned, Gil knew that she was deeply in the 'madplace,' as the Jagers so fondly referred to it. Gil quite preferred 'madplace,' as a description of the spark than being called a 'madboy.' When Agatha gave in, or was inspired—really inspired—she sometimes wouldn't leave her workshop for days. Gil believed that this was because Agatha's spark had been kept away from the tinder of her mind and body for so long that it burned quite brightly when she stoked the fire of it. He wondered, looking around the lab, what he ought to build poorly to snap her out of it. She always got so mad at his death rays, that would surely be a good first bet…But first he would appeal to reason, and emotion of the human sort.
"Agatha, you have to stop, you have to sleep sometime—Otilia insists that you tuck your son into bed. She is his guardian, but you are his mother."
"Lars will wait, my experiment to increase the castle's range is coming along so nicely—" she said as she turned back towards her cable-wire-clank. Gil took a breath to control himself in the face of whatever fascinating thing she had devised this evening. Lars, think of Lars. The little boy, who was nearing three years old, was already starting to exhibit a remarkably strong spark—his favorite bedtime stories were those where his mother recounted the plans for some of the minion clanks she built.
"Agatha Heterodyne, you will assist me in this or I will tell the castle that you are once again endangering the life of a future Heterodyne!" That stopped all motion at her workbench and Gil dared to take a step closer to her. She had intentionally cut off all awareness to this particular room several weeks ago while quite deeply entrenched in a breakthrough—Gil had had his suspicions for a while. At the sound of his solid footsteps, Agatha turned and he sighed—she was still mad as a country spark it seemed.
"You will do nothing of the sort, Gilgamesh Wulfenbach," she hissed, brandishing a particularly sentient wrench. It glared at him from one spinning eyeball—everything Agatha built knew its place because she gave each of them eyes and arms to know it with.
"Oh, Agatha, but you are and I will—it is clever for you to have kept it a secret for so long, you of course know how the Castle, Otilia, and most importantly your husband the Baron von Wulfenbach feel about you and your experiments while you are with child, my Lady Heterodyne," he didn't want to pull that card out so fast, but Agatha needed to hear a little madness to come back to him. She stepped closer to him, the madness still bleeding at her eyes. Gil stood unwavering in the face of it—it had been one of his dear father's tests once upon a time, facing down a completely mad spark calmly.
"Now, my little madgirl, I'm willing to make a deal—I won't be telling the castle or Otilia, and will reconcile myself with your experiments for another few weeks—if you come upstairs, quietly and normally, sane, and possessing nothing which will frighten my son overmuch. He wants a bedtime story about clanks—that should make my Lady Heterodyne quite happy, yes?"
"Ye—Yes, that should be fine, Gil," Agatha was normal once again, resting her now not so threatening-looking wrench to her shoulder. She ducked her head a little to the side, biting her lip—so bashful even after six years of reigning over Castle Heterodyne, of nearly seven years of being the best damn spark Gil had ever seen. He chucked her chin up a little and put an arm around her to bring her in close.
"And once Lars is quite asleep, you will be showing me all about these plans—a self-replicating vine clank? My Lady Heterodyne, you out-do yourself," his voice was no more than a growl, he wanted her so completely—her body, her mind, her science. The mad spark in Agatha flared just a little in response to his own—their sparks were really perfectly suited for one another. Years and years ago, he had said he wanted someone who could keep up with his designs—but with Agatha he was the one keeping up, and it thrilled him. He helped disconnect the power to the wiring clank, and then took her hand up to lead her out of her lab in style.
"Gootnight, Herr Baron, Lady Heterodyne, haff a goot eebning," Dimo said, closing the door of the lab behind them and putting Gil's cloak over his free arm. Gil nodded, and Agatha thanked him.
Now, they just had to put Lars to bed—the child who now had the option of running the Wulfenbach empire or Mechanicsburg rather than precariously managing both. And once the little boy was quite safely asleep, he and his wife would have a long chat about keeping secrets—and after that, he fully planned on staying up all night playing minion for his Lady Heterodyne.