Title: Beyond the Mind's Capacity
Author: Squally_BunBun
Pairing: Observercest.
Genre: Genre: Parody/Comedy
Rating: PG
Summary: The Observers try to discover what's so great about this whole love ordeal.
Notes: Set before the Pearl/SOL met with the Observers, and therefore before Brain Guy gained the nickname Brain Guy, so he's known as Observer, as are the other Observers. They're all named Observer in this fic, so it's going to get rather confusing. I just hope this means that it'll still be fun, ya? (Here's a brief hint: the first Observer is Chaplin!Observer, and the one who speaks with a lot of exclamation marks and is more crass than the others is Brain Guy.)
Extra Note: I made up the word "substancist." It's a play off of "racist," only using "substantial" as the basis. So, racism is judging people based on race. Well, substancism is judging people based on whether or not they have a corporeal body. Thought I'd clear that up before I began.

-=-=-

Observer sighed and nodded to himself, loosening his hold on his brainpan. Another day, another productive day of astute observations. Of course, it had been a rather slow day for him, as the most interesting observed thing happened to be a small particle of dust which hit the light in such a stunning way, but it did not go unnoticed. As far as Observer was concerned, the day's observing went off without a hitch.

He mentally clocked out and started to search for the other two Observers, walking slowly through the stark white hallways. He didn't have too far to walk before his eyes caught sight of a stout figure in a blue robe.

"Good day, Observer," said Observer with a small nod.

Observer did not respond. Observer approached him curiously and glanced at his companion. "... Observer?" asked Observer.

Observer turned around. "George, tell me about the rabbits!" he said in an almost childish voice.

"George?" repeated Observer, shaking his head. "What in the...?"

"I like rabbits, too!" came the voice of another Observer behind him. Observer turned around and examined Observer. It was the strangest thing. Both Observers were holding their brain pans, but they were acting like their brains were nowhere to be found. Observer shook his head, confused. What was going on with these two?

A thought occurred to him suddenly. Following his idea, he grabbed the brainpan of one Observer and traded that with the brainpan of the other. Observer snapped out of his trance of idiocy almost immediately, surprising Observer, who was still holding onto Observer's brain.

"Good gracious, what happened?" asked Observer.

"Well, I found you here," said Observer. "For some reason, it appears that you had traded brain pans with Observer."

"Ahh, yes," said Observer. "I remember now."

"Why would you do something like that?" asked Observer. "Was it some kind of experiment you were conducting?"

"I'm afraid it was Observer's idea," said Observer, pointing to Observer. "He had observed something pertaining to this concept called 'love,' and he wished to toy around with it. I went along with it since today's observing wasn't measuring up to much, but his first idea was far from satisfactory, I suppose."

"Was his first idea the trading of the brain pans?" asked Observer.

"No, it was something much, much different," said Observer. "I dare not put it to words. I'll think it to you, instead."

The mental images passed on by Observer made Observer cry out and stagger backwards. "How horrible!" he cried. "That's disgusting!"

"Makes me wonder where he came up with such an idea," said Observer, ending the mental image quickly.

"I'm afraid I don't wish to find out," said Observer, rubbing his temples.

"His second idea was trading brain pans," said Observer, "sort of like the song 'When I Held Your Brain In My Arms,' but he moved away from me, so we... well, you saw what happened."

"Yes, the rabbits," said Observer, nodding. "And I take it you discovered nothing about love?"

"Nothing at all," said Observer. "Quite a shame, really. It's a rather interesting topic, and we've done nothing to figure out just what makes it so alluring."

"Well, perhaps I may be of assistance," said Observer, stepping up to the challenge. "In the very least, this is a rather interesting topic."

"That sounds good," said Observer. "Where do you propose we start?"

"Well, why don't we begin by analyzing other planets and their cultures to see what their general ideas of love are?" suggested Observer. "It seems as good a place to start as any."

"All right, that sounds fair," said Observer. "I'll look into this galaxy."

"And I'll look into a neighboring one," said Observer. "Perhaps the Milky Way?"

The two Observers focused, their faces scrunching up in concentration. After five seconds of concentration, they both relaxed and proclaimed, "Done!"

"What did you find?" asked Observer, shuffling around the two brain pans in his hands.

"Well, one culture I analyzed proclaimed their love by EATING their mate shortly after their mate gave birth, and then regurgitated the mate to the newborns in order to feed them."

"... Oh, my." Observer looked down at the floor. "I daresay I didn't come across anything quite as exciting as that."

"It's probably a closer definition to love than what I've found," said Observer. "What did you find?"

"I looked into planet Earth in the Milky Way galaxy," said Observer. "The 'pop culture,' as it were, was ripe with many references to love. However, most were just as raunchy as that mental image from earlier, if not moreso."

"Anything that isn't raunchy?" said Observer. "I don't think I could stand something like THAT again."

"Yes, I quite agree. Anyway, one certain fellow who produced music... I believe his name is John Lennon... he once said in one of his songs that love is real," said Observer, scratching his chin.

Instead of provoking thought, this statement elicted anger in Observer. "I find that offensive," said Observer, indignantly. "Is this John Lennon person suggesting that in order to love, you must have a corporeal body? Why, I never... That's blatant substantism right there. Don't you agree, Observer?"

Oberserver nodded slowly. "Yes, yes, I see your point."

Observer simply drooled in response.

"Oh, uh, Observer...." Observer motioned towards Observer. "You might want to give Observer his brain back. In the very least, he should find this conversation riveting."

"Oh, terribly sorry, Observer," said Observer, handing over Observer's brain.

Once Observer's brain was back into his hands, Observer twitched, shook his head slightly, and sighed. "Sorry about that," he said. "What did I miss?"

"Apparently, we were doing this love stuff wrong," said Observer disdainfully. "We're supposed to be real in order to love."

"Says who?!" asked Observer, tightening his hold on his brainpan in disgust.

"Says John Lennon," offered Observer helpfully.

Observer scoffed. "Well, that John Lennon is a substantist pig!" he said.

"Couldn't have put it better, myself," said Observer, nodding his head with a smug little smile.

Observer was still sputtering over John Lennon's lyrics. "Of all the stupid things to say... I hope too many people didn't believe him!"

Observer nodded in agreement. "Who says he's an expert on love, anyway?"

"Actually," said Observer, looking slightly pained, "he claimed this in a song that he entitled 'Love.' It seems that it's one of his more well-known works."

"Do people actually take this man seriously?" demanded Observer. "I mean, come on! He was sans clothing on one of his album covers! I know I wouldn't take anybody seriously if he made an album cover featuring his clothing-less body! Especially not somebody whose name bears resemblance to Vladimir Lenin's...."

"I would agree with you," said Observer, drumming his fingers on his brain pan, "but there are multitudes of people who would sing the chorus from Lennon's song 'Give Peace A Chance' if they were prompted."

"It's nice to know that a group of trained monkeys can perform a simple task," said Observer as he rolled his eyes.

Observer sighed. "Can we get off this subject? We're not speaking of John Lennon, we're trying to figure out what LOVE is."

Observer smiled broadly. "Ahh, yes. Love. I'm glad you mentioned it. I observed something that--"

"Don't bring that up again, Observer!" snapped Observer.

Observer stopped. "Oh, yes. Quite sorry."

Observer shook his head. "This is taking us nowhere."

"I quite agree. Observer, what else did you observe on this planet... Earth, was it?"

Observer nodded. "Yes. Well, in much of the music I observed, it appears that many people make out love to be much like what Observer first examined."

Observer and Observer shared a collective shudder.

"There is one aspect of love that Observer's observation did not touch on. A kiss."

Observer stopped. "A kiss? What, exactly, is that?"

"Oh, I think I know what Observer's talking about," said Observer. "Here, I'll think it over."

"No!" gasped Observer. "I still haven't recovered from the LAST thing!"

"Oh, come now, it's not THAT bad!" insisted Observer.

He thought over the mental image to the pair of Observers. Thankfully, this mental image was much more tame than the first one. To begin with, the subjects were clothed, always a good sign. And this was a lot more calm than Observer had witnessed before. And, thankfully, there was no... urgh, Observer dared not to think of it again. The scene was tender. It made Observer feel slightly warm. That may have also been attributed to a sudden change in the weather, or perhaps he was coming down with some sort of fever, but there was a significant change in body temperature, regardless.

Which was odd. He didn't even have a body in which the temperature COULD change!

"That was rather sweet," said Observer, making Observer stir and forget about the change in his nonexistant-body temperature. "But what does it mean?"

"Yes, Observer, perhaps you could explain this?" said Observer, turning to Observer. "What does any of this have to do with love."

"... I don't know," said Observer. "I thought you would have had an idea! How did that make you feel?"

Observer shrugged, very slightly. "I don't know what I felt. It was like my core body temperature increased all of a sudden, but I haven't a body at all. It's very puzzling."

"I didn't feel anything," said Observer, "although I guess it's a step up from feeling disgust."

"I just felt hungry, but that doesn't have anything to do with this," said Observer. "Well, what do we do from here?"

Observer scratched his chin. "Very puzzling," he repeated. "I was the only one who reacted to that... and it was a confusing reaction, sure, but it wasn't all unpleasant."

Observer and Observer stopped and stared at Observer. Observer had begun to ponder the reaction he had, and he was lost in his own mind.

Observer turned to Observer. "Why was he the only one to react to the image?"

"I don't know," said Observer. "Perhaps he's done it before?"

Observer hadn't, but he didn't mind pondering it a little bit further. He was lost in his own thougts, thinking of the reaction that he had to the image. Observer eventually figured that he rather enjoyed the feeling, and although it would probably confuse him, had he ever felt it again, he wouldn't mind revisiting that feeling.

What he missed completely was when Observer and Observer began to plot between the two of them. Observer most likely excelled at visual observations, and perhaps all they needed was a more hands-on approach to this to be able to understand what Observer was feeling.

So, they reenacted the image. It was a bit clumsy and awkward at first, the Observers fumbling over their brain pans and trying to figure out which one went where, but before long, Observer was in Observer's arms, and Observer's lips were firmly pressed against Observer's, eyes shut, tongues duelling for dominance, free hands running over each others' bodies.

It was the moaning that pulled Observer from his ponderings. And it was a well-placed "What the...?" from Observer that made Observer and Observer separate.

Observer looked befuddled. He brushed his fingers over his own lips and stared at Observer, wondering how he had let Observer talk him into that. The emotions were quite overwhelming, and they put Observer off, just a bit. He wasn't entirely sure he liked what had just happened.

Observer gave Observer a look. "You don't look at all thrilled," he said.

"A very astute observation," said Observer. "And I notice you don't have the same look about you following that little debacle."

"I suppose seeing the two of you doing that just hit a bit too close to home for my tastes," said Observer. He turned to Observer. "What did you think?"

Observer needn't have asked. Observer laughed and spun three-hundred and sixty degrees in his place. He snapped his fingers and pointed up at the sky. "Eat that, John Lennon!" he yelled before dashing off gleefully.

"... I daresay he enjoyed that," said Observer.

Observer nodded. "Rather."