#but the worst is when i gotta clear out all the vegetables in my freezer and i just chop em all up throw em in a pot with seasonings

[nerdie-faerie]

It's miscellaneous vegetables pasta sauce time!

[cherryyharryy]

Chapter 6:   Sternal Angel-fibrocartilage

 We're reeling through the midnight streets

“Adeline, you have a visitor!”

A visitor?

Adeline’s notebook was tossed aside, along with the endless pile of assignments with upcoming due dates, to the other side of her bed. She swapped her pajamas for a university hoodie and jeans, and swiped her thumb under her eyes to rid of that morning’s makeup and did a once over in the mirror. Before she left her room she snatched the sociology book she’d borrowed from Morgan off her dresser, planning out her apology for not returning it three weeks ago like she’d promised.

“I was beginning to wonder if Adeline really had a boyfriend…”

Adeline sped up at hearing Nicole’s motherly tone from down the hall. She didn’t have to see her to know the wheels in her head were working overtime; concocting some plan to pawn her off on Morgan. She can sense her cushy lifestyle slipping away each time she calls Nicole because she forgot her key or complained about the vegetable stir fry they had for dinner every week. Nicole’s lips were growing tighter and the pulse in her neck was visible by the late afternoons. And the hints she’d been dropping for Adeline to look for her own place were no longer subtle.

“Morgan I—” Adeline froze, all her senses shorting out then sparking back to life. He was there, in the flesh, all five foot eleven inches of lanky limbs and regretful teenage tattoos, perched on Nicole’s white linen couch.

“Addy,” Harry smiled, jumping up to engulf her in a bear hug.

“We’re never goin’ three months again, you hear me,” she mumbled into his chest. Tears were sprouting behind her eyes, slipping down her cheeks as he spoke against her hair,

“Loud and clear, babe.”

Nicole’s not so subtle cough broke their moment. One last squeeze and Adeline grabbed his hand, hauling him towards her room at the end of the hall.

“Was worried yeh wouldn’t want me here.” He plopped down on the foot of her bed, patting the space next to him and sliding her school work towards the pillows.

“Of course I want you here. I always want you here. Think I mention it at least three times a phone call.”

His smile was all the proof she needed to know her words put him at ease. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him, especially when they’re so far away from each other.

“Come ‘ere.”

She didn’t have to be told twice, kicking her door shut and flying over to land on his lap.

The hug turned into a kiss, which turned into harry testing to see how long she could go without breathing properly. Dopey smiles and hazy eyes stared back at each other as they inched their way up her bed, and what wasn’t a long enough half-hour passed before rhythmic knocking doused the fire they had started.

“If I don’t answer she’ll just keep knocking.” Adelien pried herself away from Harry’s warmth.

“She’s been a joy so far.” His eyes rolled back while his hands smoothed out the mess that’d been made of his hair.

When the door opened, Nicole had disgust etched over every corner and feature of her face. “I didn’t think I would have to say this, but please control yourselves in my apartment. If you want to behave like animals then you should find your own place.”

Nicole’s arms were crossed over her chest with her shirt gripped in each fist. Her head looked as if would burst if they pushed just the right buttons, but a voice in the back of Adeline’s head reminded her of the rent she didn’t have to pay and the dorm she didn’t have to share.

“We didn’t do anything, Nicole. Don’t call us animals, we deserve more respect than that.” Adeline pulled her best innocent face and sickenly sweet voice. “You know me better than that anyway.”

A flash of guilt crossed Nicole’s face, vanishing as quick as it came to uphold her dignity. “I’m sorry. You two have just been in there a while.”

“Not long enough.”

“Harry!” Adeline slapped his arm before he got away, sliding past the two women with a quirked grin.

“Well if you two could spare a minute,” Nicole straightened her posture and tucked her hair behind her ears, clasping her hands together and raising her chin, needing to recapture the position of authority between the three of them, “I made lunch.”

***

Sandwiches were piled high on a platter in the middle of the kitchen table. Adeline’s mouth watered and Harry’s pace sped up at the sight of the food.

“Nicole you didn’t have to make this much. Is someone coming over, there’s gotta be over ten sandwiches here?”

“Fifteen.” The three of them slid into the cushioned chairs, Nicole across from Adeline and Harry. “Well I didn’t know how many your boyfriend would want, or what kind. I didn’t even know he would be dropping by.” She adjusted the placemat in front of her, avoiding eye contact with either of them. She unfolded her napkin and smoothed it across her lap before she delicately placed a sandwich on her plate.

Adeline bit her tongue and smiled the best she could manage. “Well, I guess we won’t have to make lunch tomorrow. Or the day after.”

“They won’t last. I’ll have to throw them away. Shame.” Nicole shook her head and pulled her eyebrows up, eyes boring into her cousin’s.

Harry cleared his throat. “I apologize for coming over without a warning...I wanted to surprise Addy.”

“Well next time please call Adeline first. I’m very busy and don’t have much time as it is to entertain a guest.”

The topic was dropped after that. They ate in silence and cleaned up in silence, all until Harry’s voice rang through the air, asking Nicole to wrap up the leftover sandwiches, insisting he’d eat them on his drive back to school so they wouldn’t be a waste.

***

Hours later, once the sun had disappeared, Adeline had all of her school work caught up on. The project her and Morgan had been tirelessly working on had consumed most of her time, leaving little to work on her other classes.

Harry was sprawled out on the wooden rocking chair by the bay window. He’d fallen asleep not five minutes after they had settled in her room, keeping his promise to not bother her so she could get her assignments finished.

She laid back on her bed, stretching her stiff legs out and reaching her arms up against the headboard, head lolling back, eyes squeezing shut as her muscles tightened and relaxed.

And if she’d been paying attention she would’ve seen her binder laying at the corner of her bed. And then she wouldn’t have knocked it off the edge, its papers fluttering about as the notebook clambered against the hardwood.

But then Harry wouldn’t have jumped up from the noise, and he wouldn’t have looked at her with lazy eyes before giving her a lopsided grin, crawling onto the bed to nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck.

“You all mine now?” he whispered.

She breathed out a soft yeah, pulling him closer.

He relaxed against her, but only for a minute before his head popped up from her neck. “M’bored,” he whined. His hot breath sent chills down her spine, but he quickly warmed her up, rubbing his massive hands over her arms and down her sides. “Are yeh allowed to go out?”

“Very funny. I can do whatever I want, Harry.”

“Right,” he snickered, “s’long as you’re back by curfew.”

“Shut up.” His laugh sent vibrations deep in her chest and the little bites and kisses to her shoulder weren’t helping the for loomed situation either. “Harry, stop.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Yes, if Nicole even thinks there’s something going on in here I’ll be out on the street.”

Harry rose up to rest his weight on his elbow, looking down at her with sparkling eyes. “She’s not the boss of you. She has more rules and regulations than your own parents did. Why don’t you just leave?”

“She just...loves me. She’s always been this way. Being overprotective isn’t the worst quality, and living free while in college would be stupid to give up.”

He groaned into her shoulder, popping back up with a red face. “Let’s go do something.”

“Like what?”

"I don't know." He turned to face her, the green eyes she’d longed to see were as beautiful as ever, bright and clear from his rest. Light stubble decorated his perfect complexion. It wasn't fair, he looked like he'd stepped off a runway, wearing the usual patterned button down and tight black denim, hair a rightful disaster. "It’s your town, show me around."

"There's not much t'show."

"Come on, let's go." He came around to her side and pulled her up by the arm. She felt like a rag doll; exhausted and her brain was fried from staring at her laptop for hours. She huffed out a groan but complied anyway, getting up to choose something to wear. “Let’s go paint this town red.”

***

“That was...interesting,” Harry mused.

“Told you there’s not much to do!”

After a midnight snack at a run-down burger joint, getting kicked out of Target for an impromptu speed race on skateboards around the store, they ended up at a two am poetry reading at a café near campus where they concluded they were the only ones still awake without a buzz of something fueling their night.

Adeline slung her purse over her shoulder, freeing up her hand to link with Harry’s. “Interesting is an understatement. And a lie.”

“Was tryin’ to be nice.”

There was a bite to the air that had them picking up speed as they hurried down the sidewalk. The next move for their evening plans was a little less glamorous—piling up on junk food for a movie they’ve seen a hundred times.

The bell chimed as they stepped through the door of a 7-11, Adeline making a beeline for the freezer with the taste of Oreo ice cream already on her tongue.

“Adeline?”

She jumped against the glass door and spun around to see Morgan with an armful of chips and a smile on his face.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckled.

“H—hey, what are you up to?”

“Ah, beer run. Johnny’s makin’ sure we don’t run out again.” Morgan nodded towards the other side of the store where a head of familiar blond hair passed over the aisle.

“Sounds like you’ve got quite a night ahead.”

“You can join us if you’d like. It’s just the two of us, plus cameron. We’ll behave for—”

“Addy I got the biggest bag of skittles I’ve ever seen.” Harry came around the corner, waving a giant red bag in the air.

Adeline reached for his free hand once he was beside her and cleared her throat. “Harry, this is Morgan, from my sociology class.” She avoided his gaze, swallowing thickly as she turned to Morgan. “Harry’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh, I didn’t know Ads was seeing anyone. Do you go to Peru too?” Morgan stuck his arm out the best he could while holding the chips to offer a handshake.

Harry ignored the gesture, his focus aimed at the girl beside him, a white hot glare boring into her with an inferno flickering behind his blown eyes. “I don’t,” he hissed. He dropped her hand and shoved the skittles into her arms, storming off with the chime of the bell ringing seconds later.

“I’m sorry, I better go.”

“Yeah, he didn’t seem too thrilled to see me.” A nervous laugh echoed Morgan’s words. “I’ll see you Monday.”

She waved to Morgan as she took long strides towards the door, pushing back the lump in her throat as a wave of anxiety took over.

She’s had her fair share of arguments with Harry, a few heated ones even, but the look on his face and he popping veins in his neck made those disagreements seem like child’s play.

Harry was pacing the sidewalk when she stepped out, hands running through his flattened curls every few seconds. She took a deep breath and inched her way towards him.

“Harry?”

He swiveled on his heel, face settling into a frown. “Why did you not bother mentioning that Morgan was a guy over the hundreds of phone calls we’ve had?”

“I—I did. I’ve been complaining about our project from the start of school.”

“No, Ads. You didn’t.” His jaw was clenched and his eyes looked as if they’d aged just within the past ten minutes. “Believe me, I would have remembered that the Morgan who’s dorm you’ve stayed the night, who drives you home, who buys you take out every Wednesday was another man.”

“So you’re saying you don’t trust me?”

“I thought I did until you felt the need to keep secrets from me.”

“It wasn’t a secret!”

“The hell it was!” he barked. “Then why didn’t you mention him?”

“Okay, well maybe I left that part out. But this is why,” she begged, motioning between them. “I knew you’d overreact.”

“Fucking,” he shook his head, a dry laugh contrasting the red in his eyes. “This...this isn’t overreacting, babe. I couldn’t give a shit as to who you spend your time with at this fucking school.” His words came out slow, bitten and sharp, making sure she didn’t miss a one. “You lied to me, Adeline.”

“I just didn’t want you upset, Harry! It’s hard enough as it is to see each other, and then throw in the fact that each time I would’ve mentioned working with Morgan you’d get jealous.”

“Yeah I would’ve been jealous! I fucking miss you every day and some moron gets all your attention! I’d have every right to be jealous!” he was practically foaming at the mouth, and she was desperately trying to hold back the tears that were just pleading to fall. “But y’know what else I would’ve been? D’you know what else, Adeline?”

A beat of silence passed before she realized he wanted her to answer. “No,” she squeaked.

"I would’ve trusted you. Yeh never gave me a reason not to, and I wouldn't of stopped. But for whatever reason you felt that you couldn't tell me, and I'm supposed to be the one person who you can tell. You have no fuckin' idea how much that hurts me."

The tears were spilling out now, her throat felt as if it was closing up, making it difficult to swallow. He was right; she’d been worried about Harry trusting her, and she was the one who ended up spoiling that bond.

"If it'd been the other way around, and you found out that I had deliberately kept another girl in my life a secret from you, how would yeh feel?"

"Horrible," she choked out between sobs. "I'm sorry, Harry, it wasn't my intention at all, you have to know that. Was just trying to keep things easy for us. I didn't want to lose you over a misunderstanding."

"And deception was the answer to that I see," he spit out, rolling his eyes. "Also glad to hear I was kept a secret from all your friends too."

"It just never came up!"

"Shit, Adeline! What did I do to deserve this? This isn't you! The Addy I left back in July would've never done this!"

"I'm sorry, Harry.” Her voice was soft and slow. He stood there fidgeting, not even making eye contact with her. "So what now?"

"I don't know. Let's just go back." He shook his head and began walking back the way they came. She shuffled behind, making sure to stay a couple feet away. The drive back to Nicole's apartment was done in silence, Harry still too angry, and her too upset to say a word.

They took the stairs up to the third floor, which she was thankful for to avoid any more awkwardness that would've ensued in a silent elevator. The lights were off and there was no sign of Nicole, who probably went to bed hours ago.

For once, Adeline wished she was here. She would freak at the sight of her swollen, tear stained face for sure, but she would sit them down and make them talk it out like the mother that she was. Instead, they trudged down the hall and into her room, where Harry immediately began packing the overnight bag he'd brought.

"You're not staying?" her voice cracked and she felt the waterworks stirring back up again.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"Do I need to recap for you?"

"I know you're mad, and you have every right to be, but that doesn't mean I don't want you here."

His eyes left hers, dropping to the shirt in his hands. Timidly, he added it to the bag and ran his hand over his neck.

Then it hit her—he didn't want to be here. It was late and her mind was running on empty, making it harder to comprehend how out of hand this had all gotten. A white lie, a little white, harmless lie to keep their relationship peaceful, and everything she loved was unraveling before her eyes.

"Harry, please, let's just talk about this. I'm sorry. So, so sorry. This will never happen again."

"I know yeh are. I just need to think 'bout everything. About us. We both need to. We're going to spend the most part of the next four years away from each other. I think things aren't as simple as we'd expected. I didn't even matter enough to you to mention my name to anyone."

Her heart split at his words. Was this his way of breaking up? Are they done? All because of her stupid mistake?

"Harry, at least stay the night. I don't want you driving this late, especially when you're mad."

"M'not mad anymore. Just need time to think." He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to where she was still standing by the door. He gave a weak smile and then a light kiss on her head before walking out of the room.

She followed him to the front door, waiting for him to turn around and change his mind, but when he opened the door after whispering a goodbye, she was left with the gut-wrenching truth that he might not ever come back.

[self-indulgent-sparrow]

The Party

This is a monster and it just keeps happening. I thought this would clock at maybe 6k??? No. It's 10.7k words. I'm kind of scared. It's 45 pages. Someone hold me.

UM ANYWAY this was an incredibly interesting experiment in writing voices of different characters―I've never really written Simon or Mab or even Dib that much before this. I HOPE I've captured them well, I constantly went through the documents to try to accurately portray them.

It's hard to say what the point of this thing is, outside of “Don't judge a book by its very nice cover” and “respect ppl's decisions and boundaries”. This entire thing was literally just me trying to get Dib and Queenie to have a Chat. Oof.

I apologize in advance to literally everyone for a specific part of this story. You'll know which part, because your soul will leave your body while you experience it.

Enjoy.

you're like a party

somebody threw me, you taste like birthday, you look like new years. you're like a big parade through town: you leave such a mess, but you're so fun!

--the party, regina spektor

"You want to throw a party for Fourth of July? Since when were you so damn patriotic?"

"It's not for Fourth of July in particular," May says, sorting through her recipe box with a small focused frown. "I just kind of figured--there's gonna be fireworks anyway, but I'd like a distraction from the holiday, so why not just make it about having good company in general?"

"That makes absolutely no sense," Kass replies, flicking through the discarded recipe cards. What the hell is yubruk? "Anyone you invite will just think it's a holiday party."

"I really doubt Mab's going to care about a human holiday, and I know Dib's looking forward to not thinking about the current political situation. It's gonna be fine--is my guacamole recipe on the back of one of those cards? I can't find it."

Kass flips some of the cards over, and flicks the card in question towards May's outreached hands across the table.

"Thank you." She glances it over, and then sets it aside to glance at Kass, who is sipping his coffee. "I swear it won't be so bad. It's not gonna be a lot of people, and I'll make the biggest batch of lemonade you've ever seen. You like lemonade, right?"

"Hard lemonade, maybe," he replies shortly.

"Why is everything alcoholic with you."

"I'm an alcoholic."

The girl snorts, slapping her fingers over her mouth to choke down the laugh. Kass continues to drink his coffee, only barely smirking back at her.

"God, you're just the worst," she finally says after the fit of giggles has died.

"I am not the one trying to host a party for a bunch of monsters to pointedly not celebrate the holiday on that day, you little weirdo." He adds, as May sticks her tongue out at him, "Just do me a favor and leave me out of it, alright? This is your inane little get-together, not mine."

"I won't make you do anything, promise. All you have to do is tolerate people being in the house for a few hours. That's it, I swear." The way May smiles, Kass almost believes her, especially when she continues, "As consolation for making you deal with my shenanigans, I will give you the first slice of my strawberry chocolate cake."

Kass frowns around the rim of his mug in speculation, and then mutters moodily, "...it better be a big slice."

As the day of the not-party draw nearer, things at 3, Tesla Drive get a little hectic as she cleans and prepares in between her shifts. On Tuesday, July third, May brings home a watermelon as wide as his ribcage, and uses up half of the counter space to slice it into small, sweet triangles. A couple go missing when she walks away for a moment to put her hair up, and if she notices she says nothing, because it's still enough watermelon to feed a small country. Kass watches her wrap the watermelon slices and slide them into the fridge underneath the vegetable tray.

She bakes the cake layers, and whips the cream, and sets them both in the fridge overnight, with the air of someone who's done this countless times before. Kass watches her work from the kitchen door frame then, and the morning after, where at 10 am she's already been up for two hours. Two hours, and she's already peeled and chopped potatoes and sliced strawberries.

She's at the counter, pouring lemon juice into a bowl, when Kass serves himself cereal. "Good morning," May says, distracted, moving to the sink when he nudges her aside to reach for the coffee. "Sorry I didn't make breakfast."

"Didn't expect you to," he replies, pouring the warm contents into his mug.

(The mug, part of a set, has a king chess piece on it. She'd bought it as a joke, and uses the queen mug personally.)

He eats at the table, which is still blessedly clear save for the bowl of sliced strawberries, while May finishes the guacamole and quickly cleans her knives. She's pulling the cooled cake out of the fridge when he asks, suddenly rather concerned, "This isn't a formal attire party, right? You aren't going to demand I wear a button up or anything bizarre?"

"In this weather? Course not. A clean shirt and a pair of pants would be nice," the girl says, matter-of-factly, pulling out the tub of frosting and popping off the lid. "Beyond that I leave it up to you. Could you pass me the strawberries?"

Upon being offered the bowl, May squints at it suspiciously.

"This bowl is lighter than it was when I put it on the table."

"No it's not," he says, convincingly.

There's a small groan, and then a sigh. She frosts one layer of the cake with a wide spatula, while Kass watches, leaning on the fridge quite helpfully.

"Hey asshole, get the strawberries out, I gotta cut more. Anyway," May continues, beginning to place slices onto the frosted center, "If you end up deciding you're sick of the company, by all means you're free to hide in your room. I won't pester you. I can't say the same for other people, though."

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to i-ow." Kass pulls his fingers back from the strawberry bowl. May waves the frosting spatula at him threateningly.

"You have had enough, sir. Let me finish."

He sticks his stung finger in his mouth, and grins around it at her like a leer. May begins to giggle.

"You are such a child, sometimes."

As noon approaches, they both shower, and she's still there when the doorbell rings, so Kass, against his better judgment, answers the door. "You knock, now?" he says with faux surprise, when Simon and Gunter cross the threshold.

"Hey, man, give me some credit, my hands are full," Simon jokes back, gesturing to the tray of popsicles in his hands. Gunter is holding a pie--apple, by the looks of it. "Is there space in your freezer for these? Don't want them to melt."

They follow him into the kitchen, and Kass takes the tray to slide it into the small freezer above the fridge. The popsicles look to be made of different kinds of fruit. He nearly claims one now, until he glances down and the penguin is staring at him, so instead, he closes the freezer door with a little huff. Fine. Later, then.

The fridge is running out of space, so the pie is left on the table. The lemonade sits in a tall pitcher, condensation forming at its sides, on the counter. Kass grabs one of May's nicer glasses that she's brought down for the occasion, pouring the cool drink and offering it silently to Gunter. The penguin looks surprised, but accepts it. It looks between him and Simon, and then states, a touch awkwardly, "I'm going to go set up the snacks in the living room."

Kass watches Simon somewhat warily, looking over the cleaned shirt and blue, star patterned bow tie. Simon deftly ignores him, pulling food out of the fridge to set onto the kitchen table. "Dang, that's the cake May made? It looks rad!"

Since the break-in visit Kass had been told about, Simon has been over several times. While Kass had initially regarded him with little more than suspicion and disdain, Simon had been unusually (to him at least) respectful of his personal space, physically and verbally. He'd seemed more interested in helping May cook, or bringing a movie to watch together.

They had had a conversation about O'Malley while playing Mario Kart on May's Wii, mildly terse while he had avoided red shells and banana peels. It had been somewhat brief--an admittance to the act, an open distaste for the damn dog, and Kass's attempt to generally wave the whole situation aside. It wasn't a perfect patch job, but it was better than nothing, he supposed, and Simon had been less pushy.

He'd been tolerable, while being himself, but it never quite took the edge off. It is, after all, Simon, do-good-be-good Simon. It's why Kass is immediately skeptical and squinting when Simon asks, "How've you been lately? You seem better."

His mouth is a thin line, but Simon's not looking as he reaches into the pantry and grabs the chip bag to dump into a bowl.

"Peachy. You wouldn't believe what not having an anxious brat following you around does for your nerves. Dib's not here too, which helps."

"Pfffbt." The boy (hardly a boy anymore, but he'll never be much else in Kass's eyes) pulls the plastic wrap off the guacamole, studying it curiously. When he looks up at Kass, his smile is undaunted by the jab. "Following you around in a different house would be way too much work, even for me. And anyway, May told me space would do you some good, so I've been nice."

He makes a harsh little "tch" noise with his tongue. "Of course, when the bird tells you, you listen. Nevermind I stated repeatedly for you to keep your shenanigans to yourself for months, then."

"You, sir, are a liar and a fiend, so I ignore what you say constantly. Half the time you're projecting anyway," Simon says, with a snicker, "and the other half, you're making really dated references that show how darn old you are."

"I am not old.”

"Okay, mister Mid Life Crisis. You're not old."

Kass mumbles something under his breath, nursing a second glass of lemonade. Simon blinks in his direction.

"I missed that. Say it again?"

With a little grimace, he repeats himself. "I said, we're still not friends. Don't expect me to come over and play. "

Simon rolls his eyes. "Whatever makes you feel good, dude. You're doing fine over here anyway, you've chilled out a lot."

"Yes, well, when I'm not constantly told to change my core person to fit a standard, I tend to thrive."

Simon sets the paper plates in his hand down, and looks at Kass. His expression is a hard one to fathom--the flesh of his cheek is pulled up, like a half grimace. With a little chuff, he pushes his glasses up his nose.

"You know what, you're right. I was pushing you really hard."

Wait, what?

This isn't a subject they've touched on for a while. Kass, more than anything, had meant it as a general rib, but the jab seems to have been more effective than he'd assumed. His surprise is evident, because Simon continues.

"I mean, I don't feel like I'm wrong, because I know you can be better than you let on--but!" He holds up a finger at Kass's little scowl. "I was pushing way too hard, at way too soon a time."

He sits in a chair at the table, gesturing, looking a touch sheepish. "I should have recognized way sooner that you were spiraling into a bad state. I won't get too weepy--I've apologized plenty of times about it and I know you're sick of it. My point, here, is, I never really looked at the situation from your point of view."

Kass watches warily, as Simon dips a chip into the guacamole, and sticks it into his mouth. He makes a pleasantly surprised sound, and swallows, then gestures again, a little shrug.

"I tried to get it, but it didn't really sink in until the whole, uh. The thing with Pickman. I didn't register how deep a level the Foundation stuff was ingrained into you. That's on me, and I'm sorry."

For a long minute, there is quiet. It's awkward, and uncertain.

Kass says, a little caught off guard, "We're starting this party off on a very low note, you know."

Simon snickers again.

"My bad. But I'm really glad you're starting to feel better. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know." He points at Kass sharply, squinting. "Illegal activity is out, though."

Kass finds himself very nearly smiling. "We'll see," he says.

"See wh--Simon, you blessed boy! You're early!" May's enthusiasm fills and controls a whole room, and she dives into Simon's arms when he stands. "You didn't have to come help!"

"Well," he says, seeming pleased, "I figured it'd take a load off your mind. Gunter and I brought some extra desserts."

When May pulls away, she examines the pie brightly. "Look, Kass, a cutie pie! And also, an apple pie."

"....May."

She can't help how her chest shakes from laughter. "That's it, I'm sorry. That's the only joke I'll make."

"It was so bad," Simon says, affronted.

"I'm sorry," she says again, though she doesn't seem very sorry. "I'm just so happy--You're here, and you look nice and I suddenly feel much, much less stupid about this whole thing."

It catches Kass a little off guard to hear that, because she hasn't seemed self conscious as she planned the party--a touch rushed, maybe.

Had he failed to notice, or had she just hidden it that well?

Simon grins at May as she touches his bow tie, the pair of them thick as thieves. "You look adorable and I hope you know it."

Though Kass will never admit it, Simon is right. May has chosen to leave her glasses off today, and her hair, still damp from her shower, is pulled back into tight pigtails. A blue ribbon peeks out behind the springing curls, loose by her neck, and her shirt has a feather pattern around the collar.

She's embraced the summer mood, it seems. Her face lights up from the compliment.

"Actually," she asks sheepishly, "could you give me a hand? I'm not very pleased with the ribbons and you could probably get a better angle than I could."

"Sure!"

Simon ushers May out the hall, to the bathroom. Kass slips past them into the living room. The penguin and a green little clone are setting the coffee table with food, neither of them looking up while he maneuvers to set up the Wii.

"Awfully considerate of you," it says from somewhere behind him. Kass checks the batteries of each spare remote, and then flicks through the disks, picking multiplayer games and setting them beside the console.

"If I have to tolerate this ridiculous backwards event, I might as well find ways to enjoy myself," he replies.

"Right," Gunter says. "Of course. That's all."

"That's all, Ducky."

The doorbell is well timed, and Kass stays put as it's opened by the bird. He half turns, watching Dib, already bright red from the heat, strip his trench coat off to hang on the door's coat peg.

"One hundred and three degrees," the boy mumbles. "One hundred and three stupid degrees. And everybody's barbecuing."

(His shirt is bright blue, and has a spiraling wind pattern. This is very ironic.)

"Need cold. Need fluids."

Dib makes his way into the kitchen, reappearing moment later with a cold glass pressed to his forehead. He drops heavily onto the couch, and finally seems to notice Kass, raising a hand in a half greeting. Kass raises his eyebrows, and then looks over the couch, and grins.

"Psst. Constant Vigilance."

"Nn," Dib says wearily. "What."

"Look."

Suspiciously, Dib looks behind the couch to the base of the stairs where Simon and May reappear to enter the kitchen. He gasps at the sight of the tiny springs at the base of her neck.

"Oh my goooooosh."

"I told you," Kass says, a touch smug.

"That's--That's so cute," Dib hisses back, grinning wide around the lip he is biting into. "That is so good."

"What are you two jerks snickering about," May asks as she sets the vegetable tray onto the coffee table.

"N-Nothing--" Dib says, at the exact moment Gunter says, "Kass pointed out your pigtails."

May peeps (god, it's brilliant when she does that), and then yells. "What is with you people and my hair!!"

Kass snickers and ducks the pillow chucked in his direction, tossing it back in Dib's direction.

When Simon and Gunter drop onto the couch, Kass tosses them each a controller and drops into his recliner, only half listening to the party, his hands behind his head.

Simon, to some degree, is right. He is more relaxed. This is his space, currently being invaded upon with his own permission. That's what he tells himself, at least, slitting one eye open to watch Simon hand Dib his ass in Super Smash Bros.

Four rounds later, Dib has won all of a single match, staunchly holding to playing Samus while Simon flicks through Pacman, Lil Mac, and Ness. Gunter has decided he has a very high interest in May's guacamole, and has helped himself to a good portion of the stuff, ignoring the cold cut sandwiches and veggie tray.

May's still not appeared to join them. When Kass stands and peeks into the kitchen, he finds her at the stove. The faerie queen is sitting on the edge of the counter by the window, the sunlight painting patterns on her wings. It's with a little grimace that Kass maneuvers around her to pour himself a glass of the lemonade, ignoring their conversation.

He catches sight of the stove--wait. May's making french fries. Unashamed, Kass sidles to her side and steals a couple finished ones on the plate.

"Stop stealing food," she mumbles with a little smile.

"Stop having friends that are all in my nightmares," he retorts, blowing on the fry and sticking it in his mouth. Ah, unsalted. Probably a batch for the faerie then.

"Sorry?"

It is, at this very moment, that the back door to the kitchen bangs open. All three inhabitants jump nearly a foot, and only two relax as the cause makes itself known.

"Sup?" The nightmare queen proclaims, posing dramatically in the door frame. "Y'all can relax now, I'm here. The party can finally start."

Kass attempts very hard to make himself invisible, and does not succeed, though the new guest ignores him to throw her arm around May's shoulders. He's not a fan in the slightest of the queen that visits from time to time―she looks like Sydney, but isn't Sydney, and she has a tendency to drip onto the sofa and make creepy faces at him without thinking about it. Certainly she's not threatened him, but he's seen her head come off at least once, and he's not interested in being within three feet of that.

"You are dressed all in black, how are you not dead from the heat," he hears May murmur with a smile in her voice.

"It's the aesthetic, man. Suffer for the look."

"I love you, dumbass."

He maneuvers away from all three queens--that's way too much power in one room for his comfort--at the same moment that Mab proclaims, "May, dear, you've hardly left the kitchen this entire time. This is your event, you should relax!"

"I'm almost done, alright? This is the last batch of fries, and then I gotta salt some of them and we'll be good to relax."

"You've made plenty, you've got to go join your own party! Nobody's going to starve, you've made sure of that," the queen coaxes. Kass watches, as he retreats with his glass, Mab and the other one--Queen Nothing? a stupid name, he can think of something better--usher the bird away from the stove. She resists only a little, snapping the stove dial off.

Kass stays on the peripherals of the scene when they finally drop her onto the edge of the couch. Slime princess drops onto the arm of the couch beside Simon, smiling in what she must imagine is a relaxed manner but really comes off with far too many teeth.

"This guacamole is fantastic, May, could I possibly bother you for the recipe?" Gunter asks, and true enough, the bowl is much emptier than it had been when Kass had left.

"I'll make a copy for you," she replies, hugging a pillow. "Pass me some snap peas?"

For a few long minutes, the party is absolutely wonderful, and loud, without him. He thinks, maybe, he'd like to creep off soon, but he doesn't, just standing at the base of the stairs watching the madness unfold.

What a strange bunch of characters. Of course they all found each other. Of course they all get along. Who else would have them?

Simon and Dib eventually hand the controllers to May and the ink hazard, who are both godawful at Mario Kart. It certainly doesn't stop them from trying, though eventually he does lose his patience at how badly his roommate is failing and snatch her roommate to shoot her to third place. She had fought him for it for just a moment before yielding, and he's suddenly back in the fray of this stupid event.

He soon finds out every queen is bad at Mario Kart, and really, that almost takes all the fun out of winning. Almost--not quite.

On the couch where he rests his elbows, Dib and Simon are having a conversation about the new Marvel movie, and the villain's absolute inane scheme.

"I mean, it's at least a better motivation, than say, universal conquest," Dib claims, "But dude! You're wearing a matter manipulator, and you're arguing there aren't enough resources? Make more!"

"Nobody's arguing his concept isn't super donked up," Simon counters, "but I'm not really sure he knows any better. Plus, can the gauntlet really make more matter?"

"Well by that argument, he could have turned a bunch of useless waste into more resources," is the very irritable retort.

"What the hell is even happening in these movies anymore," May adds, scoffing. "I never bothered watching Civil War and now there's an evil grape."

"You never watched Civil War? But that one's actually pretty good!"

"Dude. Age of Ultron suuuuuuucked. I got jaded. All I know is everybody's in Civil War and duking it out because Tony's doing some more shit no one agrees with because no one will get that man therapy."

An apt description, Kass thinks. Apparently, not enough one for Dib and Simon, who begin to explain.

"Well, it's more about this bill--"

"And there's a terrorist attack--"

"And it seems like Bucky did it but--"

"Jesus Christ," May says when they are finally done, her head in her hands. "That was almost as bad as What's Up Tiger Lilly."

Kass squints at his roommate at the same moment someone, he's not sure who, asks, "What's What's Up Tiger Lilly?"

"No," she says, muffled into her fingers. "I'm not telling you the What's Up Tiger Lilly story. You don't want that."

They all exchange looks, and then look expectantly back to her.

"Well, now you have to tell us. You can't tease us like this," Simon states.

"Pleeeeeease," adds the Void Girl, grinning wide and batting her eye at May in what she thinks is a pleading expression.

May's eyes narrow. She shakes her head once.

"I warned you."

She takes a large drink of her lemonade as everyone waits, the video game and snacks forgotten. He finds himself only vaguely intrigued, but more than anything he realizes, watching her eyes glittering, that she is basking in the attention.

Holy shit.

May's a storyteller.

"Now," she begins, "You have to understand this is not my story--I got this story from Ethan, who was my coworker at one of my old part time jobs. We worked at Jimmy John's. Now for those who haven't been to Jimmy John's, it's like Subway, but more mediocre. Subway, you have countless options to choose from, right? Jimmy John's, you have far fewer options, but you're gonna get your sandwich in about thirty seconds, so that's great I guess."

May puts her hands in the air in a shrug. "I'm sure this is a talent I'll eventually find useful in life, but so far I've come up dry. Thanks a bunch, Jimmy John."

"Anyway," she continues, "I got this story from Ethan, but this story didn't happen to Ethan. This story happened to his old friend Jake, while the both of them were in high school. Now, because basically none of you went to high school," (here, May squints around the room with a little crooked smirk), "high school is basically this place you go to spend four years learning nothing substantial and existing as a ball of anxiety pretty much the entire time. For, you know, eight hours almost every day."

She grins.

"So not at all a waste of time, right?"

Dib snorts. The queens nod sagely, though really, only one of them really knows what May's going on about.

"So Ethan and Jake went to high school together, and they were in movie club. Now, again, since almost none of you went to high school--clubs are a place in high school where you decide, 'I've only been here eight hours, that's not enough! I wanna be on my school campus some more.' Then you find some friends who like the same things as you do and also wanna be on campus for even longer."

May looks up at Kass with a bit of a wicked smile, one he's learned to be mildly concerned about. Very quickly, he learns the cause.

"Now, friends," (she turns and stares directly at the queen on the other end of the couch, who sheepishly shrinks into her shoulders), "are people who like your company. Usually, they will actively try to spend time with you! You may never be sure why, even though they claim it's because they think you're fun to be around. Or something."

Little monster. Kass flicks her ear, and she giggles, pushing his hand away. "Stop that, I'm telling a story."

"Anyway," May says again, forcefully, "You and your friends all find a thing you like to do, like, say for example, sports."

As if anyone in this room likes sports. Kass hides his smirk in his folded arms on the backboard of the couch.

"Sports," the bird adds helpfully, "are basically a stupid form of physical activity that require movement and sweat and usually sitting out in the sun! Crazy concept, right! The AC exists for a reason."

"May," Simon says, his hands folded in front of his face as though he is concentrating very hard. "Please."

She continues, undeterred. "There's usually grass and some kind of ball and I hope most of you know what a ball is, because I'm not going to explain that."

"May," Simon says, a little more forcefully.

"Please," Dib adds, a hint of desperation in his voice.

They're figuring out the scheme, slowly.

"Okay, we're getting off topic. So, Ethan and Jake are in a club, and they are in movie club. Movie club was this thing where Ethan and Jake and their friends would get together to watch a movie, and then discuss what happened in the movie, and subjects like the movie's themes. Now," May holds up a finger in an explanatory matter, "Themes are like, the meaning of the story, or what the story is trying to get across with its moral, and morals for those of you that don't have them," (she's grinning at Kass again), "are complex ideas about right and wrong."

She smooths her shirt down, and takes another sip of her lemonade. "They're usually widely debated by people who don't have any, and yet decide they're doing things like taking away people's rights out of 'moral obligation'. But I'm getting off topic."

This is the worst story ever. Holy shit. Already an air of distress is descending upon the guests.

"The theme of this story would probably be about the folly of man and the error of judging a book by its cover, or what have you," the bird says, nonchalantly. "Now, a book is like a movie, but instead of being told visually, the contents are shared through words, written on pages bound together, and usually reading is involved."

"MAY," Dib hisses, pained.

"No, no, this is important to the story, see, because because Ethan and Jake were in movie club, and it was Jake's turn to get a movie for the club. So he goes to the library. A library is a place that contains information in many books. But it also contains other forms of media like newspapers, which are real stories versus fictional ones. This is a real story by the way. No newspaper will publish it. I've tried."

Kass has to physically bury his head into the hard bend of the couch to keep from laughing. She's good at this, she's good at keeping this train wreck entertaining. She's a terrible little monster.

"Besides books and newspapers, you can also borrow things such as DVDs, and at this point a DVD is a somewhat dated sort of disk that--Dib no come back!!" May suddenly says as Dib stands, his hands in the air as though he can't take anymore. "This story has a great pay off come on man--thank you, as I was saying."

Dib crosses his arms. Kass reaches over the pokes him in the head. "You did ask for this."

"Don't touch me."

"Young man. Am I going to finish my story, or are you just going to keep interrupting me."

"I'm good. Keep going."

"Good boy," says the pleased bird. "Where was I. Hm, I can't quite remember--should I start over?"

"May!"

"Right, yes, a DVD is a dated sort of way to watch movies. So, Jake went to the library to borrow a movie, and he decided he was going to borrow the movie What's Up Tiger Lilly."

The room visibly relaxes with relief. Finally, they all seem to think. We're finally getting to the story.

Kass knows better. Kass hides his grin, watching the reactions carefully.

"Now, What's Up Tiger Lilly is a Woody Allen movie. It's some kind of kung fu movie he basically dubbed over with a completely different story," May explains, and then adds, her voice quirking up in pitch, "which I guess makes it very artistic?"

Mab nods, though she does look a touch confused, and the penguin says from the other side of the coffee table, "That is.... an apt explanation. Really, the only explanation needed so far."

"This is my story and I'll tell it how I like, thank you Gunter." Her tone is a touch affronted, though always, always laced with sarcasm.

"Apologies. Continue."

"So, Jake went back to movie club with What's Up Tiger Lilly, and he and his friends watched it. They enjoyed it!"

That wicked smile is back.

"Enjoyment is an emotion you feel, likely the very one you feel now as you listen to this wonderful story I'm telling you. I know you're enjoying it because you're my friends, and you like my company, and you like my stories."

"May," the ink girl says at the end of the couch. "Please. You care about me, right. Please stop this madness."

"So they watched this movie," May continues, undeterred, "and they experienced enjoyment, and they discussed it.

And time passed.

Now, seeing as not all of us conform to time's rules, time--"

Dib makes a strangled sort of noise, like a scream that got locked behind his tongue. Kass presses his forehead to his fist on the backboard. He cannot look.

"Time is a somewhat linear linear mostly wonked up passage of growth, usually noted in minutes, hours, and days. It's very convoluted and made up by humans because they apparently need more ways to stress themselves out, like being late to things. for example, you're probably thinking to yourself, the time you spend listening to me tell this story couldn't be spent in a better way at all, and it's going by so fast! I'm halfway through the story!!"

"May," Kass says, very evenly. "You are going to get thrown across the room."

"Explain throwing to me really quick?"

The flat stare he gives her is answer enough. The monster on the couch grins widely.

"Anyway. Time passed, and then, one year later--" (May holds up a finger) "--Jake went back to the library. A year is three hundred sixty-five days. This was probably a little more than that, but not by much. He went to the library, and he picked out some books to check out. I'm not sure what he checked out, maybe he decided it was time to reread Harry Potter but could only find a copy of book five, which is confirmed to be the most depressing, unenjoyable novel of the series."

Kass watches Simon's expression very carefully, noting the tight-eyed squint. Simon does not rise to the bait.

"Maybe he was doing a book report, because at this point people still went to libraries to get information out of books, a method so dated and untrustworthy nowadays that those poor libraries should really do something with all those dated encyclopedias."

Now Simon does open his mouth, visibly irritated. May is grinning right at the boy, obviously goading. He barely gets a word out.

"Do not--"

"An encyclopedia!" she interrupts loudly, "Is a book with information on every possible subject known to man!"

"May--"

"They usually come in collections! But none of that matters. What matters is Jake went and grabbed some books he decided to check out."

Simon gives up, shaking his head impatiently at the couch cushions.

"He brought his books to the counter, and he said hello to the librarian. The librarian was a woman--Ah, wait, I should clarify--"

The room bursts into an uproar along the lines of "we know what a woman is--"

"A LIBRARIAN is a person who works in a library."

Kass can't hold it back anymore--he's wheezing into the back of the sofa pathetically. Fuck, she's horrible. Dib is visibly getting irritated, and Mab looks to be getting there. The noise only dies when May says, "Can I finish my story, or will I need to start over?”

Reluctantly, the party goes quiet again. May nods.

"Thank you. As I was saying. The librarian was a woman, and Jake went up to the checkout desk. Jake said 'hello!' The librarian said 'hi!' Jake said, 'I would like the check out these books!'

The librarian said, 'okay, let me see your library card'. And she scanned it, and she looked at the computer. And she went, 'hmm.'"

May puts her hand on her chin in mock contemplation for a moment, acting it out. Everyone seems to be holding their breath, afraid to interrupt when actual progress is happening.

"'What is it?' Jake said.

'It says here that you checked out What's Up Tiger Lilly, and never returned it,' the librarian said.

'Oh,' said Jake.

'Yes, it says here you have a fine of eleven dollars and twenty cents. You can't check out any more library books until you pay the fine.'

And Jake said, 'oh,' again.

The librarian said, 'Do you want to pay the fine?'"

May steeples her fingers. She smiles sweetly.

"And Jake said, no."

There is a pause. Several long beats pass.

May says nothing more. She continues to smile.

"Are you," Dib finally says. "Are you actually--That's IT?"

She looks like the cat that got both the cream and the canary. Kass begins to snigger into the sofa again.

"This is so stupid! That was the stupidest--Why did you--aaaagh."

Simon's face is distorted, a mix between amused and horrified at himself. "The punchline," he says slowly, "is that he wouldn't pay a library fine?"

"Yes."

"....This is a bad story."

"Aw."

The queens both look a level of distressed, though in different ways. While the eldritch horror seems, for lack of a better phrase, split down the middle between laughing and committing a murder, Mab is staring at May, her eyebrows creased. Kass realizes, exactly, what's about to happen, at the exact moment Mab says, "I don't understand."

"Oh no!" May says, holding back a cackle. "Mab didn't get it guys, I gotta do it over again and explain it better this tim--"

"NO!"

The chorus rings throughout the room sharply. Kass can feel May's wide smile from behind his hand, firmly clasped over her mouth. She's visibly shaking with giggles--he's not doing too much better.

She wasted a good half hour of their time, like this, he realizes when he glances at the clock. She had managed to get them to sit and listen to her say nothing of consequence for a full half hour. The nerve of her is something to be applauded.

At her gentle tap against the back of his hand, Kass removes his fingers. The bird looks smug, smiling at her guests who are coming down from their rages. Dib has picked the game controller back up, very determined to not look at his host.

“That was mean,” Gunter says, looking rather amused in retrospect. “That was absolutely terrible.”

“What, you people think I'm nice?” comes the reply, followed with a shrug. “Honestly, it's like you don't even know me!”

“You're wicked,” Mab says, finally smiling. “You'd give the fae a run for their money.”

May seems far too pleased with herself at that. She sits back against the couch, sipping her lemonade pleasantly.

“I once heard an hour long rendition of that story. I'm still improving at it, to be honest! But now,” she adds, grinning dangerously, “You can share it with your friends!”

When cake is served, May is good on her word. She gives Kass a large slice, refills his lemonade glass, and waves him away as he escapes back up the stairs to his bedroom. It's a cool, dark space, and he lights a quick smoke, something he'd avoided doing down with the guests.

While it is not a bad party, by any means, he has had his fill, he thinks. For now, he wants some time to himself.

With time, he hears the party become quieter. The afternoon slips into early evening, the shadows only barely longer. He wakes from a nap to a quiet house, a murmur of sound the only hint that it is not entirely empty.

He stands and stretches, feeling the vertebrae of his back click softly. It's almost seven when he gathers his dishes and exits his room. What are the chances there's still cake, or a slice of pie?

Kass is at the foot of the stairs when he stops.

He hears―rather, he overhears―in the kitchen―

“―we please drop this? Just today? I―today was a good day, dude, can't we just bask in it without talking about this again?”

“I'm sorry, May, I'm just―I gotta make sure! You know I can't just let it go―this is Kass we're talking about.”

It doesn't take a genius to know that's Dib. May, on her part, sounds agitated, moving around the kitchen, running the sink. Kass can picture it, can picture the little impatient steps and how things knock about when she accidentally swats them while reaching for things. That just makes her angrier.

“Why? Why is it such a big deal to you? I thought you didn't care anymore, you were fine when the man went missing. It was like you didn't even notice.”

“It's―It's not that I didn't care, I just―I didn't want to waste energy on trying to find a guy that doesn't want to be found. I do care! I'm going to care, and I'm going to worry and be suspicious!”

“Why can't you let it go?”

“Because!” Dib seems to snap harshly, before he stops, as though catching himself. When he speaks again, it's in a lower volume, and more controlled.

“This is Kass. This is the guy who lied to me for months, and was a huge jerk to me and my friends for years, and that was before he got stuck in my garage. You know how many times he's thrown me under the bus―you have to understand. I'm going to be a bit hyper-vigilant! I'm going to worry!”

This isn't the first conversation Kass has overheard about himself. He's spent long enough in 1, Tesla Drive, and in Site 17, and many other places, to hear numerous insults about his person. It, for the most part, doesn't bother him, so much as it annoys him that people have really nothing better to talk about.

What Kass is surprised to find unpleasant is the idea of May talking about him. Of course she does, he know logically she'd talk about him while he's not around, but there's something so possibly two-faced about it.

He hears her small huff.

“I get that―and it's fine to be nervous, okay? It's fine to not trust him, that's not what I'm saying. But that's not what you're doing. What you're doing is questioning my choices. My judgment. You still have this idea that I need protecting, but I don't. I'm not telling you to get over it and be his friend, I'm not an idiot. But, Christ, Dib, I expect you to trust my decisions.”

"But I'm worried about you. I know you said you could handle him but he's just a lot to deal with. Plus," Dib says with a little sniff. "You shouldn't have to deal with someone like that on a daily basis. You don't deserve that."

"Okay,” she says after a beat, her tone sharp and irritated, “First off. I'm not handling him. Kass is not some kind of wild animal I'm trying to tame. Secondly, I'm much more capable than you give me credit for. I'm in charge of an entire species, most of which don't like me. I work retail. You think I can't deal with a little bit of criticism and insults? You think I can't deal with a bad attitude from time to time?"

There's a moment of quiet, filled with nothing but the clatter of dishes and the running water.

"....I didn't know that. They don't like you?"

"Not the point, here, hon. My point is, look. This isn't something you need to worry about. You don't need to worry about me, and you don't need to trust him. You need to trust me. You need to trust that I can take care of myself, and that I can manage living with him. And I'm getting really sick of having to defend my friendship, dude. We're adults, we should be past this."

Oh, she shouldn't have said that. She shouldn't have, that opens such a gaping wound, that--

"Wait, Kass is your friend?"

"Oh, here we go." The dishes clatter loudly.

"Kass doesn't have friends, May."

"Don't start with me, Dib.”

"No, seriously! Simon tried for months to convince the guy! You know what it resulted in? It resulted in sharpie on his forehead and honey stuck in places there shouldn't be honey! Kass doesn't have friends, he refuses to even fake it, and maybe Frank's an exception, but I don't think Frank's picky--"

"Ow! Fuck!"

Kass stiffens at the little swear. Dib stops talking―the water stops running.

"What happened?"

"Cake knife got me. No―don't go anywhere, I'm fine."

“You want me to go grab a band-aid?”

"No, no. It's healing up already, see?"

"Nn. You're sure?"

"I'm good, hon. Just tired. Can we―can we please drop this subject?"

"Nnn,” Dib says, clearly not ready to drop this subject, “can I just say one more thing?"

May doesn't respond, so Dib continues, undeterred.

“I just think, of all of us, you're the one that needs to be the most worried about Kass causing issues. Simon and I know what he's like, and the kind of under the table stuff he's pulled. You―you haven't been around him as long as we have, and you always see the best in people. But―he needs a closer eye on him. If something happens--if he gets picked up by the Foundation, he's going to sell us all out if he thinks it even has a chance of saving his skin.”

“I―“

“Please let me finish. He'll sell us out and that includes you. I know we can handle it, we can figure something out, we always do, but if something goes wrong―May, when I told them about what ZiM's PAK could do they completely disabled it, with no way for him to get out. They'll keep you under the tightest lock and key. They'll shove you into the tiniest cell and poke and prod at you until they know every little thing you can do and then they'll leave you there.”

Dib's voice, his cadence, is painfully sincere. Maybe a touch raw. Maybe he's faking the depth of his worry, playing it up to make her listen―he's done it in the past. Still, he speaks with more familiarity than he seems to want to.

“You need to be careful about what you say to him and what you tell him. I don't want you to get hurt.”

There's a silence. It's heavy and stifling, and then May says in a low, dark voice, “I don't―you know what? I can't deal with this right now. I have to go clear the living room―I'll be back in a minute.”

Oh, shit.

Before Kass can slink away from the wall beside the door frame, she stomps out through it and nearly barrels right into him. They stare at each other a moment, exchanging no words.

She looks... angry. He thought he'd seen her angry before, but he's never seen this; her eyes are slits, her shoulders tense and up to her ears. The air around her seems boiling hot with barely-contained rage, the curls of her pigtails loose and framing her face unevenly.

May looks him in the eye, and then grits her teeth, looking away and moving around him without so much as a word. Kass watches her storm into the living room, gathering paper plates and used napkins. Her motions are jarring, forced and rushed.

This is held-back anger―not the snappish tones she's shot his way when he's opened his mouth too much, not the tense way her fingers push her hair back from her face when she's got four and a half things all happening at once. She cleans when she's angry. She channels it everywhere but where it should go.

And that's―

That's such bullshit, Kass finds. It's not the particular speech Dib's given May that gets under his skin, but the pretentiousness of it all. He's done that thing he and Simon and Mab always seem to do. They stick their noses into other people's business. They insert their own opinion into a subject that has nothing to do with them.

They've done it with Kass for years now. He understands why, to some extent. He hates it, but he thought he understood why―he had thought the distrust was always behind it. He'd figured it was the way Dib needed to make sure he didn't throw them all under the bus again.

But, apparently, it's just the kind of shitty, awful, bratty child that Dib is; so much so that he does this sort of thing to his supposed friends too. He can't seem to help himself―he's too full of himself and too stuck on his high horse. The stupid kid still thinks he's the smartest person in the room. He's sixteen and he thinks he knows better than full-blown adults.

Kass wipes away the snarl that's been growing on his face, and forces his eyes away from the girl's turned back. He slips into the kitchen, where Dib is standing awkwardly in front of the sink, fidgeting with a towel he'd been drying dishes with.

Dib looks, more than anything, startled, and for once, uncertain. His eyes had locked onto the door frame, as though waiting for May to return, but upon seeing Kass, his expression slides directly back into distrust and disinterest, eyes lidded and squinty.

“Hi.”

“How's it going, Lightning Bolt,” Kass says, flatly, without interest.

“It's.... going.”

“Where's the barefoot wonder?” he asks hollowly, checking the fridge's leftovers. No good―he's lost his interest in anything sweet, from the bitter taste in his mouth. “Already gone home to candy land?”

He can feel Dib's eyes on his neck as he turns his back. He has not missed this feeling in the slightest.

“Simon went to grab some snacks from Uuu. He and I are going to take the Voot to watch the fireworks from bird's eye view.”

“Interesting,” he responds, moving to the sink. It's not interesting, really. “So it's just you then?”

He's in Dib's bubble, and it's obvious the teen is tense, but all Kass does is rinse his plate and glass. He leaves them in the sink, eyes on his own hands.

He grabs a clean glass from the dry pile. “You're leaving ET on its own tonight of all nights? You find that wise?”

“ZiM is fine,” Dib says, a touch sharply. “He's used to loud explosions.”

“Of course. War species.”

There's a heavy pause. Kass fills the glass with ice cubes. Clink. Clink.

“How, um,” he hears Dib start, haltingly, “How are you doing?”

"I'm fine,” Kass says, his voice upturning into sweet saccharine sarcasm. “I'm just dandy, not being in your presence 24/7 does wonders for my complexion."

A glance up confirms the expected scowl, which he feels no need to respond to. His own expression, carefully controlled, is neutral.

No matter Dib's feelings towards him, be they disinterest, disgust, or suspicion―that distinct mutual feeling of dislike that had manifested early between them is not going anywhere any time soon.

Kass smiles, suddenly, a wide and rather cold smile. He smiles like a wolf looking at a little girl in a bright red hood would smile.

“But here's a fun fact for you to ruminate on, dear old Dib. Let's say, for sake of argument, I wasn't doing as spectacular as I am doing. It, fascinatingly enough, would be entirely none of your business. Isn't that interesting?"

His smile remains, though he looks away from the boy hovering near him to pour a fresh serving of lemonade into the glass.

“I--”

"Here are the facts,” Kass says, holding a finger up, “I'm not your responsibility anymore, Dibromoethane. Your opinion on my status is moot and unnecessary. Lemonade?"

Dib's eyes flick between Kass and the glass in his hand. His expression is twisted when he says, hesitant, “Uh. Sure?”

"Tough tits,” the man replies, walking away, “Serve yourself. Keep your nose out of my roommate's hair about my status."

When Kass returns to the living room, May is pacing along the length of the couch. Her hands are full of used napkins, which she nearly seems to be wringing, crumbling them into tight balls. She barely looks up at him when he approaches, but her pacing stops when he enters her personal space.

“It's hot enough out without you working up your feathers, birdy. Drink.”

He offers the lemonade, but the bird shakes her head. “No, no, I have to finish cleaning. It's gotta get done.”

Kass tsks lightly. “It'll still be there when you've calmed down,” he starts, his mouth on the next syllable before it gets stuck in his throat at expression of absolute rage that paints May's face.

“That's the problem! It needs to get done or it'll just stay a mess, regardless of whether or not I'm angry! Jesus Christ, am I actually saying words out loud? I'm actually audibly speaking, right? I'm not just making random noises with my mouth like some handicapped old person?”

Holy shit―she's seriously upset. May's eyes are lit up, molten gold. Kass takes a step back; she notices, and deflates nearly immediately. She presses her hands to her face to stifle a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scream.

“You―he―mmmmgh how many times, how many fucking times do I have to say something for people to hear me? Fuck me, why the fuck don't people listen when I talk?”

Her hands have buried into her pulled back hair, the pigtails coming loose and the dirty napkins still balled up in her fist. Carefully, as though defusing a bomb or trying not to startle a lion, Kass sets the glass down onto the coffee table and extracts her fingers from her hair. He uncurls them, one by one.

“You're letting this get to you far more than you need to, you need to take a breath.”

“Fuck you, don't tell me what to do. I'm an angry bitch and you shouldn't touch me.”

“Look, princess, don't get snappy at me, I was well-behaved today,” Kass says sharply, unfurling the fist with the napkins and taking them from her. “Rudeness is unbecoming of royalty.”

“Fuck,” she says again, and deflates once more. “I'm sorry, Christ, you shouldn't―you don't need to deal with this shit, but I'm just so sick to death of it.”

She stares at her hand, curling and uncurling the fist, her mouth a thin sharp line.

“Everyone's always fucking acting like they're waiting for the other damn shoe to drop. Like―Like, I'm fucking naive to how awful you can be, have been. And when I finally realize, oh no, he's just the worst, I'll be crushed!”

May looks up at Kass, brows furrowed and jaw taut. “I'm not a fucking baby! I don't need people to take care of me!”

“Keep your voice down,” he hisses, to no avail. She's nearly shouting.

“Like I don't fucking know most of the awful shit you pulled? Like I don't know about when you dislocated Dib's shoulder, or lied to him for months, or sold the kids out to the Foundation, or the thing with O'Malley? Or any of the other terrible things you've done? I fucking know, Kass! These aren't secrets, unfortunately!”

She surprises him―she laughs, bubbling with anger. “But they're not my grudges to hold! Most of this shit is ancient fucking history, and I wasn't there! I have no right to be pissy at you for any of it! And somehow, some-fucking-how, because I don't treat you like roadkill, it means I don't know you're a jerk.”

Here, May's pitch rises into the dramatics, into mockery. Her hands press to her cheeks to add to the theatrics, eyes wide and childlike. “Nooooo, I need to be protected! I need to be warned about the Big, Bad, Kaaaaaass. Fuuuuuck.” This last word is her normal pitch, pouring with exasperation. She presses her fingers into her eyes, groaning.

“You're the fucking same, you know that?” she concludes. “You and him and so many stupid humans―you think you need to teach the softhearted that the world is so much worse than they act like it is. I hate it so much.”

And May is softhearted, that much is true. Kass has lived in this house with her for maybe half a year now, and he knows this much. She is, above all things, kind and optimistic, while simultaneously sarcastic and smug and a small jokester.

Her interactions with him have forced Kass to try to come to terms with the idea that being soft is not nearly the same thing as being weak.

May is quiet for a long, long minute. Kass listens to her inhale deeply, and exhale slowly. He lifts his hand and places it on the crown of her head―it's the closest he can get to a conciliatory gesture. It works―the tension in her shoulders drops, and she inhales another shuddery breath.

“Nn. Fuck. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped so hard. It―it's not okay, and it's not your fault. None of this is your fault,” May adds, pulling her hands from her face, “You were just.... there to take the brunt of it. I'm sorry.”

While mostly caught off guard, Kass can't exactly say his feelings are hurt. Certainly, he doesn't like being assaulted with the fact that most of his dirty laundry has been hung out for curious eyes, and her outburst is certainly a new side to her that's set him on edge, but she's not exactly the most threatening form.

He supposes he's a bit ruffled by the idea that he and Dib have anything in common. Oh, certainly, he'd compared the pair of them before. He'd believed (and he still does to some level, what with being a cynic) Dib would realize how hard the real world was, and would become cold like Kass had to survive it. He'd believed there was no other real way to deal with the harshness―this isn't a kid's show, after all.

But the idea that Dib would do anything Kass might do? The idea he would actually buy into Kass's mindset about the world? Well, that is just about unthinkable, these days, especially with the company he keeps.

They're nothing alike, he tells himself. She's just angry.

“I think I'll survive the sudden shock, tweety bird,” Kass finally says, waving off the apology. Again, he tries to offer the glass, and May accepts it now, pressing the cool condensing side to her cheek. She turns, her brows pinching upward. Already she's got that guilty look he's grown familiar with―she makes it almost immediately after she snaps at him.

“I should go talk to him,” she says, weakly. “I just stormed out in a huff.”

“Give it another minute,” Kass replies, patting her upper arm. “He deserves to feel like shit for a bit longer, don't you think?”

May chuffs, looking up at him. She very nearly smiles, and she looks exhausted. The host has had a long day.

“I'm, um,” she starts, “I'm sorry about this. Again. Um. Was―Was everything okay on your end? I know this isn't really... your cup of tea.”

“I've been to worse.” His mouth is a crooked line, close enough for her to recognize as a smile. “I don't really think I'll ever be at ease in the company of a bunch of monsters, unfortunately.”

She nods, biting her lip. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I forget, sometimes, that you can't really.... turn that off.”

Another inhale, and exhale. Kass pulls his hand back, sticking them both into his pockets. “I'm going to hole up for a bit―I'll come back out before the fireworks. Will you, er, will you be able to manage until then?”

“Yeah,” May says weakly. “Cleanup's almost done. I think I need some alone time, too.”

“Right. I'll see you in a bit.”

“Kass?”

Her smile is weak, a little pained.

“Thank you.”

“...yeah.”

Kass returns to his room. He watches the street from his window, leaving it open to smoke. After a few minutes, he can see the signature lightning bolt as the miniature form of Dib exits the house through the front door, his trench coat blowing back behind him.

Dib turns back to the house and looks up. He squints at Kass's window. Kass closes the blinds.

At every turn, May has defended him. She has repeatedly kept Simon, and Dib, from sticking their noses too deeply into his business. She has gone on the record to say she enjoys his company.

Hell, she got mad at her golden boy over Kass. It's no secret how much May adores Dib, doting on him like a mom friend, and she put that aside to defend Kass's privacy―from the sound of it, multiple times.

He doesn't understand it. She certainly could do better in the way of friends―the girl is a friendly person who manages to get along with most people. Christ, more than that, she deserves better than a drunk, depressed, cynical ex-agent who can count the number of kind deeds he's ever done on his fingers, and still have some to spare.

Christ. She's so painfully loyal.

It's sinking in, more and more. Kass can be... safe, here. He's not convinced that physically he's in the clear, the Foundation looms over him still. Yet the other factors―the itching paranoia, the watchful eyes. The disgust, and the insults. The adventures. He is safe from them. They are things he can choose to stay away from. He's not forced into them by being adjacent to them.

Safe. It's a word that doesn't really fit right in his mouth. He wonders if he'll ever adjust to it.

The shadows are lengthening when Kass creeps out his bedroom. Purple twilight fills the sky, the sun already nearly below the horizon. May is on the roof, staring hard in its direction, drawing with what little light is left.

"That's going to fuck up your eyes, you know."

"They'll just fix themselves," she shoots back, not bothering to look back at him as he approaches. "I wanted to get the cityscape."

Kass sits next to her, his feet hanging over the ledge. She shows him the sketchbook, the crosshatched silhouette of the distant buildings. It's not half bad.

"You patch things up with Constant Vigilance over there?"

"I think so. I actually think I scared him a little bit? He's never really seen me get mad, at him or anybody. I think he's surprised it was at him first."

Kass sniggers. “The little prick had it coming."

"Hush,” she says, with no force behind it.

"I have the right to be vindictive, he was talking smack about yours truly."

"Talking..... smack."

"Technically,” he says, grinning, “the phrase was accurately used."

There is a pause, and then a weary sigh. "Never say that again. Please."

Quiet fills the cool evening air. The sky begins to light up, like artificial stars of a thousand colors. After a little time, the sketchbook is set aside.

"This is a stupid holiday,” Kass says. Just to state the obvious.

"Yeah, I know. But the fireworks are nice."

"Did you bring at least bring gunpowder poppers?”

"No? I know your track record with fire, sir."

"You're no fun."

On the other side of the street, and the street behind them, the air is loud, filled with little bangs and pops and children's screams.

“I'm sorry about what Dib said. I―I'm not going to invade your privacy, that's not fair to you.”

“Don't apologize, birdy. It's his shit to get over, not your problem.”

“But―it's not fair. I can't make him stop. I've tried.”

“I don't expect you to get him to stop. The day the kiddiewink stops squinting at me like I'm going to suddenly spawn cockroaches from every orifice, I'll know he's lost his mind.”

May bites her lip to hide her smile. “You're not mad?”

“Woe is me,” Kass responds flatly. “Dib doesn't trust me and he thinks I'm a handful. I'll never recover from the shame.”

“You are a handful,” she snickers. “Pfft. You're wonderful.”

It always catches him a little off guard when she says that. Even when she insults him, it's with the same cadence of quietly pleased. It's nice.

The air's not very quiet, really. In the distance, there are police sirens. There's the small popping noises, and the distant booms of the fireworks. But they are quiet, watching the world from what seems like many miles away. Miles from the chaos. It is calm, here.

Up until the moment that the backyard of 1, Tesla Drive, is filled with an explosion to rival the fireworks, filling the much closer area with noise and light, and quite possibly fire. In the noise, a familiar wild cackle is heard, loud and maniacal.

The pair on the roof next door have curled away from the sudden heat. They blink at the house, and then each other, as bits of ash and still-burning paper drift through the air. May begins to giggle nervously.

“Let's, uh, let's go back inside."

"Let's."