Hello again everyone. I wrote this a loooong time ago, intending for it to be the third and final set in the Peanut Butter Banana Sandwiches and Honey Butter Toast series. Things happened, my inspiration for this story dwindled, and I only had it posted up on my LJ... and then forgot about it. It wasn't until someone actually tracked it down through my LJ posts and commented that I even remembered I wrote it.

I have no intention of continuing it. But I think that I ought to at least publish it here, for others to enjoy (without having to sift through my journal to find it).

So here it is, Blackberry Crumble.


Winter just ended. The trees were dripping ice cold water everywhere, miniature rain showers that disturbed the squirrels, and flowers were poking up out of the ground, much to the delight of Stephanie. The girl had a penchant for gardening. Things were thawing out, snow melting, animals waking up and stirring fitfully in their beds.

And the damned elf was shirtless.

"I can't believe you," Robbie muttered, huddled under a blanket. "You're more insane than I thought you were."

"It's warm!" Sportacus protested, pausing in his frolicking.

"It's 45 degrees out here," Robbie shot back. "And I hate you."

"Maybe if you moved around you wouldn't be cold," Sportacus suggested slyly. Robbie speared him with a glare and the elf grinned good-naturedly and did some more cartwheels, reveling in the spring sunlight.

Truthfully, Sportacus loved all seasons, each for its own reason. Summers were unbearably hot, but they were also full of playing from sunrise to sunset. And autumn was crisp and cool and refreshing from the oppressive summer heat. Winter brought snowball fights and Christmas, his favorite holiday of all. But spring! Spring was delicious. Spring meant everything was growing again, everything was waking up, and he could hear it. Every drop of melted snow, liquid sustenance, that dripped from tree limbs and every rustle from warm hidden nests where its occupant was stretching cramped muscles, preparing for another nine months of activity non-stop… it was beautiful, and he felt it soaking in through every pore of his body.

"Maybe you're just a freak of nature, how about that?" Robbie snapped, pulling the blanket over his head and breathing into it. "Damn magic creatures that shouldn't even exist…"

Sportacus rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"It's not my fault I grew up someplace colder," he replied calmly, spotting a tiny green bud on a tree and smiling at it, reaching out and stroking it with one finger. It grew and unfurled slightly.

"You'd probably complain all the time about the cold if I took you there," he added. Robbie looked up skeptically.

"Just how cold does it get?"

"Colder than this," he replied after a pause.

"Don't be evasive! I meant a specific temperature!" Another pause.

"I don't know," he admitted. "We didn't really have thermometers."

"Figures," Robbie huffed, rubbing his hands together. "Why am I out here again?"

"Helping me look for the kitten," Sportacus reminded him. His crystal never went off, so he knew the kitten wasn't in trouble, but he still worried. A little kitten out in cold weather with no owner! He assumed the kitten's mother took care of it, but still, it might be okay to just check.

"I hate cats," Robbie muttered.

"Pretend it's a puppy."

Sportacus ignored the muttering and continued his search, jumping nimbly on top of walls and peering over them, lifting trash can lids, everything. Five minutes later, he heard a small meow from behind him, and he whirled around.

Robbie was holding the kitten awkwardly. It was apparently uncomfortable for both parties, given the kitten's squirming and the look on Robbie's face.

"This the furball?"

"You found her!" Sportacus exclaimed happily, neatly taking the kitten and holding her in a much more comfortable position. He crooned at her and scratched the top of her head with one finger. "Hello little tree-kitten. We were looking for you!"

"It's a her?" Robbie asked, leaning a little closer and inspecting the tiny mass of fur.

"Mm," Sportacus confirmed, still happy to have found her. The kitten meowed and butted her head against his hand.

"She have a name?" Robbie asked after a moment. Sportacus shook his head. Robbie appeared to be thinking.

"… looks like an Isabella, to me," he finally said, straightening up again. Sportacus struggled to keep a straight face.

"Isabella, huh?…" he mused, looking down at the black and white kitten in his arms, who was snuggling up to his body heat. He grinned, unable to resist any longer.

"You think we should keep her?"

"What?" Robbie stared at him, incredulous. "Cats are evil! Why would you wa-"

"Excuse me, are you Robbie Rotten?"

Both men startled out of their conversation and looked at the postman who was holding a letter.

"Is that a bill?" Robbie asked quickly. The man looked confused and shook his head.

"An advertisement?" Another no.

"A letter from a long lost rich uncle who wants to give his entire estate and fortune to me for being such a brilliant and handso-"

"Robbie take the letter!" Sportacus interrupted on behalf of the postman. Robbie pouted at being interrupted and quickly snatched the envelope.

"That's mine, thanks," he said briskly, and tore the envelope open. The postman gave him a suffering look, but trudged off for the rest of his rounds.

"What is it?" Sportacus asked curiously, leaning in to try and read it. Robbie held it over the elf's head. "Hey! Not fair!"

"It's rude to look at other people's mail!" Robbie retorted.

"I thought you said you were cold."

"I am."

"Inside then? I have to get… Isabella something to eat. She looks hungry."

"She looks like a ravenous beast out to destroy us all and eat us in our sleep. Stupid cats."

But Robbie followed the elf back to the house, letter tucked into his vest. It was probably nothing.


Sportacus set the kitten on the counter and rummaged around in the fridge. Kittens liked milk, right? Warm milk. Right. He grabbed the carton of milk and poured it into a little dish and put it in the microwave while Robbie sat down on one of the stools by the counter, taking the letter out and extracting the paper within the torn envelope. Sportacus examined the buttons and frowned. He sucked at using technology, and knew it. How long was he supposed to heat it for? Too many buttons.

"Robbie?" he said without turning around. "Can you help? I can't ever figure this out." He frowned and poked at a button. It beeped, but there wasn't any other sound. A chill went down his spine. Robbie wasn't calling him stupid.

He turned around and saw Robbie staring at the letter, deathly pale. The letter was set down on the counter top, and the kitten batted at its corners, oblivious.

"Robbie?" he ventured, moving closer. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," came the strained reply. Sportacus frowned and snatched the letter before Robbie could take it back.

"No! Give it back!"

Sportacus ran for the bedroom and closed and locked the door behind him, ignoring Robbie's yelling and pounding on the wood as his eyes skimmed over the letter. It was a personal letter, not from a business. The vague smell of expensive cologne met his nose as he read it.

Confusing. Puzzling.

"Dearest Robbie, Please do me the honor of replying and letting me make up for past transgressions. Sincerely, T.J."

Sportacus blinked curiously at it. What an odd letter. Why would it upset Robbie so much? He unlocked the door and opened it, handing the letter back.

"I don't get it, " he said. Robbie was breathing hard and trembling slightly.

"I said it's nothing," Robbie panted.

Sportacus knew enough to not push it. He didn't say anything as Robbie shredded the letter into the finest confetti and washed it down the sink in the kitchen while Sportacus watched the kitten lap up warmed milk.


Three weeks passed, and the incident still lingered in the back of the sports elf's mind, but not enough to make him worry overtly. Robbie frequently got upset over seemingly trivial things. This was probably just another one.

It was evening, and Stephanie sat next to Pixel on the couch, Isabella curled up in her lap and purring contentedly. Pixel brought over a movie and wanted to share with Stephanie, so Sportacus was trying to simultaneously stay still throughout the film, and also keep Robbie distracted enough to keep from hogging the popcorn all to himself, in addition to keeping an eye on Stephanie and Pixel and whether or not they were sitting too closely.

It was rather odd to hear a knock at the door.

Sportacus got up and answered it, warning the three of them to get along nicely, or else. He opened it.

"Hello," he greeted the man who stood there. "Can I help you?"

"Ah, yes," he answered. "I was told by the mayor that I might find Robbie Rotten here?"

"Yes," Sportacus answered, feeling uncharacteristically wary. "May I ask who you are?"

"Oh, an old friend," he replied, smiling a bit uneasily. "I've been looking everywhere for him. I knew him a… long time ago. I wanted to catch up."

Odd. Robbie never mentioned friends. But Robbie was known for his secretive nature.

"Alright," the sports elf said. "Wait here. I'll go get him." The man smiled gratefully and Sportacus thought he smelled a faint wisp of expensive cologne. Maybe it was this T.J. person? Interesting. He tapped Robbie on the shoulder and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"You have a visitor."

Robbie looked up at him curiously and stood, straightening cuffs uncertainly. No one ever visited him. He didn't know anyone.

Sportacus didn't feel the need to accompany him, so he resumed his perch on the arm of the sofa and listened.

A moment later, the door slammed shut and the lock clicked into place. There was muffled shouting from the outside. Sportacus jumped up and swiftly moved into the other room where the front entry way was, and found Robbie locking windows, shaking.

"Robbie? Who was that?"

"No one. Help me lock things. This stupid town is so small you just leave everything wide open, don't you? If I was still plotting against you, you'd be screwed, I could just come and go as I pleased and…"

Robbie was babbling and Sportacus felt the beginnings of unease creep into his stomach. There was something wrong. The man outside continued to pound on the door. Sportacus grabbed Robbie by the wrist and forced him to look at him.

"Robbie, I'm worried. Tell me what's wrong."

At that instant, Robbie's eyes met his, and Sportacus could practically feel the fear rolling off the taller man. Gray eyes were wide and open, and Sportacus sucked in a breath of surprise at seeing the childlike Robbie again.

He never wanted to see the man's eyes pleading with him "Save me, hide me, I'm scared, help!" ever again.

The man was still pounding on the door.

He dragged Robbie down the hall, into the bedroom.

"Stay here," he instructed. Robbie was too shaken and pale to protest, and Sportacus didn't let him. Stephanie and Pixel were huddled on the couch, confused and a little scared about all the noise, but he smiled reassuringly at them as he passed, glad to see the way Pixel was doing his best to look strong and protect Stephanie. He passed them and headed for the door, swinging it open and accidentally breaking the lock without realizing it. The mechanism snapped and fell to the floor with a clatter. He didn't notice.

"I don't think Robbie wants to talk to you right now," he said, deceptively calm. The man was panting. He was dressed in normal clothes, though a little on the formal side. He was old, probably at least fifty or so.

"I need to talk to him!" he panted. 'Stubborn,' Sportacus thought.

"He doesn't want to see you," he answered, his voice flat. The accent was increasingly obvious as he focused less on maintaining his English.

"Robbie!" the man shouted into the house, ignoring him. "I know you don't want to see me, but I need to talk to you! Robbie!"

"Maybe we talk tomorrow," Sportacus said over the din he was making. "Until then, I am afraid you need to leave."

When the stranger tried to push into the house, the elf's control snapped. Audibly.

There was a sudden crackling feeling in the air and the man was physically shoved backwards by an invisible force, staggering backwards out of the door way and nearly to the sidewalk that lay in front of the house.

"I am sorry," Sportacus said, his accent thick as he stood in the doorway. He was thankful, at a subconscious level, that none of the kids were up and about at this hour. He had no doubt he looked terrifying at that moment.

"I am sure I asked you to leave," he continued, how voice lowered. "And I wish you to leave us alone please. Bless." The man stood up shakily as Sportacus closed the door.

The elf looked down at the broken lock and sighed. He was being reckless. He had forgotten his strength, and on top of that lashed out with his magic.

At least now the man wouldn't be allowed in.

"Sportacus?" a timid voice to the side of him caused him to look up again. Stephanie was looking questioningly at him, Pixel holding onto her hand even though the elf could clearly see the questions in his eyes as well. He couldn't summon a smile for them.

"Pixel," he said quietly. "Do you think you can fix the lock? I'd ask Robbie, but…" Pixel nodded and both children moved forward to pick the broken lock up from the floor.

"You twisted it and it snapped," Pixel said after a moment of inspection. He looked up, but Sportacus had already disappeared.

"What do you suppose happened?" Stephanie whispered, obviously worried. Pixel shook his head.

"I don't know. It had to be something big. Sportacus never loses control. Why do you suppose the television went out for a minute there? That was weird."

Stephanie gnawed her lip. Pixel didn't know about the magic, but that's what she was sure it was. Something had happened and Sportacus used his magic and it made the electronics stop working for an instant.

She was thinking too much to answer Pixel's question.

He didn't think he'd ever been more relieved that Robbie listened to him. The lean man was curled up on the bed, back against the wall and knees to his chest.

But at least he hadn't run.

"He's gone now," Sportacus said, his voice sounding loud in the silent room. He saw Robbie's shoulders shake and sat down on the bed next to him.

"Are you alright?" he murmured after a moment. Robbie stiffened, and shuddered, his face hidden against his knees as he remained in his curled up position.

"I feel sick," Robbie finally whispered. Sportacus reached out with one hand and rubbed his back. He ignored the initial flinch the touch brought.

Robbie felt his control slowly slipping away. All the hard-earned jealously guarded defenses, sliding off like melting butter.

Why? Why did he have to come back now, after all this time? Just when things were going good?

He started shaking again.

"Shh," Sportacus soothed. "Remember to breathe." He did, and tried to focus solely on deep breaths, but it hurt his lungs. He couldn't stop shaking.

He felt weak and defenseless, and it awakened things he had kept carefully buried for a long time. Abruptly, a keening whine clawed out of his throat and past his lips. He panted harshly. Everything felt too tight. He wanted to run. He wanted to shut down. His eyes felt too wide, and the room felt too bright. Everything was breaking apart, and he couldn't do a damn thing.

"H-h-helllp," he whimpered, shaking so badly that he felt as if he were literally vibrating. "P-please. H-help." When Sportacus shifted, kneeling on the mattress and embracing Robbie, Robbie pressed his face against that broad chest and breathed shakily, long fingers fisted in the outfit's material.

"Help," he said weakly again, automatically. Sportacus didn't shift or move, but remained still, arms wrapped around the thin man.

"It's alright," he said, his voice strained. "I'll save you." He felt the corresponding jerk from Robbie that signaled he had just forcibly swallowed back a sob.


A few days passed without event. Robbie was twitchy, nervous, timid; Sportacus was nearly stoic, though he still attempted to remain as playful as possible, even if only for appearances. Robbie had passed the point of maintaining appearances- for the moment, he was too terrified to bother.

But he let himself relax a little as he walked from the post office, arms full of box. His order for new parts had come in, and he was too happy about it to worry about anything. So what if he had to go to the tiny post office in the town hall to pick it up? They were new parts. New parts meant building new things. New puzzles to solve, new ways to fit things together. His spirits couldn't help but feel lifted.

Like everything else about Robbie, it got shot down fairly quickly.

"Robbie?"

He froze and a chill went straight up his spine. God no. He kept his eyes forward and didn't breathe.

"It is you!" TJ looked relieved, thankful. To anyone else he looked like he had found an old friend and was overjoyed. Robbie knew much better.

"Leave me alone." Robbie said flatly. TJ instantly looked regretful.

"Look, Robbie," he started. "I know what I did… it was wrong of me, I know. I know! After you left… I thought, or a long time, and…"

Robbie didn't want to hear a word. He wanted to clamp both hands over his ears and scream until everything bled. Until he couldn't anymore.

No. No.

"Go away," he rasped out, shutting his eyes tightly, stepping backwards.

"I'm trying to apologize! Please, I just want to make amends-"

"I DON'T CARE!" Robbie screeched, dropping the box and finally pressing palms against both ears. "GO AWAY!" Thoughts and memories were smashing into walls in his brain, ricocheting off of corners and leaving chips and cracks. He felt the compression in his lungs, and automatically gasped in response, even while he didn't consciously know what was going on around him anymore. He breathed hard, and continued to back up until he tripped over an unseen obstacle, and tumbled to the floor. His eyes snapped open, and TJ was moving forward, a worried and pained look on his face, hand stretched out to help Robbie up.

Robbie shrank away and screamed as loud as he could. It came out weak, shaky, breathy.

There was no more air in his lungs to make any sound.

Sportacus bolted from the game immediately, leaving the children confused and worried. His crystal had gone off in the middle of play before, but he had never just left without so much as a "be right back!" and the moment later when they heard a scream, every one of them paled. Stingy dropped the basketball in shock, and a look was exchanged between all of them.

"W-what was that?" Ziggy whimpered. Stephanie swallowed hard and grabbed the boy's hand comfortingly.

"Come on Ziggy, let's go inside and play a game," she suggested gently.

"What was that scream?" Ziggy continued to ask, even as he was led into the house and the rest of the kids followed, oddly silent and apprehensive. "Do you t-think it was a d-dinosaur?"

Sportacus had never been one to be easily angered. It wasn't in his nature. He was, by personality, a calm and gentle and patient man. When he was insulted, he laughed, and when people didn't like him, he smiled at them and invited them to play. He was the group mediator, the one who came in between arguments and solved them. He wasn't an angry man, usually.

But as soon as he saw clutching his chest and panting harshly, sweat pouring off of him and eyes wide and dilated with fear practically rolling off of him in such intense waves that Sportacus didn't even need to tap into his magic to feel them… at that moment, restraint was the absolute farthest thing from the sports elf's mind, and his look darkened. He stalked forward swiftly, and grabbed the man- it was TJ, wasn't it?- by the back of his coat, and flung him. He didn't care if the man was elderly or fragile. He flew back a few meters before crashing to the ground, yelling in pain. Sportacus was so angry he thought he might shoot lightning bolts.

Technically, he could. But no. Second strike. It required something more than a verbal warning, but not anything more drastic. Robbie was curled with his knees to his chest, hugging his legs and lost somewhere in his mind.

"Just what the hell are you?" TJ yelled, struggling to his feet again and glaring, shakily on his feet once more. Sportacus let his eyes drift over to look at the man from the corner of his eyes, and TJ felt a strange shudder go through him. And it wasn't just because of the sheer coldness in those blue orbs.

"If you ever come near him again," Sportacus warned, and his voice was deep, rumbling, like thunder threatening on the horizon. The kind of thunder that accompanied pitch-black clouds and dangerous winds. "You will not like the consequences. That is your last warning."

TJ blanched, torn between anger and fear. There was something inside of him that was screaming "leave, leave now, don't come back, it's not worth it, he's dangerous!" but it kept wavering, and he couldn't focus.

His attention diverted suddenly to a twinge between his shoulder blades. He straightened up, pressing his shoulders back. It itched. It itched like hell. And then his left arm… he looked at it, and saw a rash slowly forming, creeping down onto the back of his hand. It was red and raw, and itched like thousands of fire ants were swarming under his skin and biting over and over. He hissed in pain and discomfort.

When he focused again, the hero was kneeling next to Robbie, murmuring reassurances and laying one hand on his leg, nothing more. He felt the briefest flash of envy and jealousy, but it seemed to increase the pain of this foreign rash, and finally he couldn't stand it any longer. He turned and walked as fast as he could away from them, rubbing furiously at the chafed skin.

Sportacus noted his exit, and hoped the man heeded that warning. He was already pushing what was allowable, as both a hero and an elf, but hopefully… hopefully, it would spare Robbie any further distress. He talked softly to the man, who was beginning to take gasping lungfuls of air, recovering slowly, slowly, from the worst panic attack he'd had in years. He trembled violently, clutched at the fabric of his pants and rocked. He was surfacing from memories, coming back into the present reality. His eyes focused slowly on Sportacus.

The sports elf smiled gently, and decided to risk it. He leaned forward and blew gently on Robbie's face. Robbie blinked, startled, but immediately felt it easier to breathe. His panic subsided at an unnatural rate, and he was left with a sort of content numb.

"Magic?…" he inquired, whispering. Sportacus smiled and nodded.

"Magic," he confirmed. Robbie stared for a minute more.

"I'm tired," he murmured finally. "I want a nap." Sportacus laughed lightly and shifted, picking the lean man up with relative ease.

"Whatever you want Robbie."


Sportacus put a finger to his lips as Stephanie burst into the house, brown eyes widened and glittering with worry and pink hair disheveled. Stephanie swallowed her questions when she followed his blue-eyed gaze over to Robbie, who was bundled up in blankets on the couch. Sportacus motioned her over into the kitchen and she followed him, automatically taking a seat on one of the stools and catching an apple he tossed at her. Sportacus twirled his own apple idly in his hands, his eyes focused on something other than the here and now. Stephanie broke the silence.

"What happened?" she whispered. Sportacus glanced up at her and she could see he was considering whether or not to tell her. "What's going on Sportacus?"

The blue elf sighed and removed his hat and goggles in one smooth motion, running a hand through his hair the next moment. He started grooming his mustache after that.

"Someone scared Robbie. Very badly." he finally answered. Stephanie's eyes filled up with tears, startling him slightly. She was trying bravely to keep it together, but tears still escaped her control and slid down her face.

"They hurt him, didn't they?" she trembled. Sportacus moved next to her and embraced her. She clung to him and cried silently. She didn't see the set jaw of her adoptive father who was also trying to keep from crying in frustration. Eventually she stopped, leaning back with a few sniffles, and he loosened his hold on her. She wiped her eyes and looked up at him.

"Is he okay?" she whispered.

"I think so," he replied, equally quiet. She slid off of her perch and padded into the other room, and moved over to Robbie's sleeping form, kneeling in front of the couch he was set on. Sportacus followed her and watched while she laid her head on the edge of a cushion near Robbie's arm. Sportacus left them and left quickly to find Isabella, who was wandering around somewhere outside. He would feel better having everyone together.

After Sportacus left through the back door, locking it for once behind him, Stephanie lifted her head and watched Robbie's face as he slept.

Robbie Rotten was a lot of things to her. She was just starting to understand it, but he was like her big brother. He had started out obnoxious and rude and made fun of her unmercifully. He was infuriating, always telling her to "go away kid" and to be quiet. In true little sister fashion, she had retaliated by doing the exact opposite. She never thought about it before, but she realized that it must have infuriated him as much as his condescending attitude toward her had infuriated her. Who would want such a useless brother?

Stephanie fingered the gold chain around her neck that held the little "10" charm Sportacus had given her so long ago. She didn't flinch anymore when she thought about what had led to that. She watched Robbie carefully, contemplatively. His face was still tight with anxiety, even in sleep. So, with no interruption and no distraction, Stephanie thought.

A few minutes later, Robbie woke and sleepily blinked open his eyes. His lungs felt sore, and the blankets tucked around him were uncomfortably warm. He squirmed until his arms were free, and that's when he noticed the pair of big brown eyes looking at him.

He nearly shrank back, but managed to quell the reaction into just a minor flinch. He expected Stephanie to smile at him, even if it was a sad smile. But she didn't. Her face remained neutral, and her stare unwavering. He was pinned.

"Robbie," she started quietly. "Did you get hurt?"

He stared back at her for a few moments. It could have been in his imagination, wishful thinking, desperation… but he thought he saw a glimmer of understanding in her eyes.

He nodded anyway.

Stephanie didn't break into tears again or even give him a look of sympathy. She calmly reached behind her neck and unclasped her necklace, bringing it off of her neck for the first time in a long time. She held it up, about to put it around Robbie's neck, but he stopped her.

"What am I," he muttered. "A girl?"

She laughed quietly and instead attached the charm to the chain dangling off of his vest. She watched him as he flicked it gently before he settled his attention back on her. She met his gaze unflinchingly.

"You got hurt when you were little, didn't you?" she blurted out. Robbie looked at her for a moment more before he sighed and leaned back against the couch.

"Does it matter?" he answered. He did flinch when she grabbed his hand and entwined her small fingers with his own.

"It does," she said. "It matters because I love you too, and I want to help. I want to know what's going on."

Robbie glanced at her again and saw her eyes glimmering more with determination. He inwardly groaned. There was nothing that would stop her with that look.

"Yes," he answered finally. Stephanie paused.

"By that man?"

She didn't miss the way Robbie's hand unconsciously tightened over her own.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

Robbie hesitated. He was no good at tact, but he was already in this chest-deep…

"I was very little. They took me away and I never went back. When I got older I came here." He left out the bits about him coming here as an ex con-artist, but she didn't need to know that. He did a lot of things she didn't need to know about. Stephanie was silent for a few moments.

"Were you scared?" she whispered. He felt something clench in his chest and he tried to swallow around it. Had he been scared? He couldn't recall a moment of his life before Lazy Town when he wasn't scared.

"Yes," he answered simply. Stephanie was again silent. After a few seconds she carefully clambered up onto the couch and sat on the edge while she wrapped her arms around his torso. He froze and watched her, waiting.

"It's okay," she said finally. "I was scared too. But it's okay. You don't have to be afraid of anything anymore."

He didn't know why those words had such an impact. If he had known, he would have stopped her from saying them, and stopped himself from bawling like a toddler. Stephanie took it in stride, and attempted to wipe the tears away before he batted her hand away from his face. He may have been a complete weakling, and crying on top of that, but hell would freeze over the day he let some little girl coddle and baby him. Stephanie relegated herself to hugging him while he calmed down. When the tears finally slowed, she reluctantly released him and sat up.

"Wanna share a cake?" she asked, rubbing at her eyes. She had come close to crying herself, but not quite. Robbie grunted something, embarrassed, and Stephanie took that as a yes and went into the kitchen. A moment passed before her pink-topped head poked out of the doorway.

"Well?" she asked. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

Robbie rolled his sore eyes and got up off the couch shakily.

"You're not going to leave me alone unless I do, so it's not like I have much choice in the matter," he replied. Stephanie shook her head.

"I don't know how you can be around Sportacus for this long and still be so lazy," she sighed.

"I'm talented that way."

"You must be."

"Don't forget it, Pixie."