Synopsis:

For justice, for honour (but mostly money), and for love… of pie. Liar Liar: For the Love of Pie—a companion piece to the main body.

You're free to read this, but you should probably go read "Liar Liar" first. These are extras.

ENJOY EXTRA THE FIRST.

Extra One: Names To Be Determined

Like all great things, it started with a bang.

"What kind of crazy person are you to throw a firecracker at someone who just said hello to you!?" he yelled once they had caught their breath and sufficiently lost their pursuers.

Literally, a bang.

Lelouch leaned heavily against the wall, catching his breath. He didn't convince his sister to lie about him actually putting in PE hours to his mother just to make them up in his free time for real. The hot, sweaty, disgusting feeling of physical exertion caught up with him, and he could practically feel the lactic acid accumulating in his muscles. He vowed to take a shower once he got home. And a nap. He was a big believer in the conservation of energy law.

Never mind that it wasn't applicable here.

Laughter rang out in the air and he glared at the green-haired girl in front of him—who was out of breath, but didn't look like she was about to pass out and die like he did.

"Because it's fun! And because that guy was annoying and I couldn't get rid of him. And because I had a firecracker on me."

He just stared. He wasn't sure what was frankly more concerning—how this woman had lit and thrown a firecracker at someone for saying hello to her, or why she had one on her person in the first place.

He went with the latter.

"Why on earth did you have a firecracker on you?"

The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh!" she exclaimed, as if just realizing something. "Why do I have a firecracker on me?" She hummed briefly, as if thinking about it, and then shrugged. "I must've stolen it from somewhere. No biggie," she said with a lackadaisical shrug.

Lelouch just gaped at her. "Sto…! Who are you? Are you a criminal or something?"

Smiling rather innocuously for someone who threw a lit firecracker at a seemingly innocent man not too long ago, the woman merely shrugged. "Maybe. They haven't told me yet. And I'm, uh, Emily. Emily Dickenson, pleased to meet you," she said, holding her hand out.

Lelouch blinked at her. He stared at the outstretched hand, and then back up at that guileless face.

"You are not Emily Dickenson."

The girl frowned. "And why not? I could be."

"Emily Dickenson is dead."

She blinked prominently and then tapped her chin. "Okay then. I'm Marie. Marie Antoinette, it's a pleasure."

Her hand shot out once more.

As if this wasn't déjà vu and what just happened didn't happen.

Lelouch stared at it for a moment and then met her gaze and sighed. "Look, if you don't want to tell me that's fine, but you shouldn't masquerade as famous dead women. People will call you on it pretty quickly."

The woman huffed and folded her arms under her well-endowed bust. "Okay then. I'm really a lab rat escapee on the run from scientists because I don't want to be experimented on anymore."

Lelouch sighed. "You have a rather overactive imagination, don't you?"

"Okay, how about this: I'm from space."

"That's less believable than the lab rat story. Look, if you want to fool people, you have to pitch it within the realm of possibility. Like, you're from Canada or something," Lelouch said with a random wave of his hand, pulling it off the top of his head.

The woman just stared at him and there was a moment of silence. "Hahahahaha! Canada! Like anyone would believe that."

Lelouch scoffed. "It's way more believable than a flat out lie, Miss Can't Even Give Me Her Name."

"Well, what about you?"

Lelouch opened his mouth to do just that when he stopped himself. "Julian. Julian Kingsley."

The woman reached for his hand and shook it without prompt. "It's a pleasure, Mr Kingsley," she said, emphasizing the name, raising her eyebrows slightly and giving him a look that clearly said she didn't believe him, but also didn't care. "Either way, Julius, we should probably leave this dirty alley before that guy I threw the firecracker at comes seeking revenge."

And then, without warning or his consent, Marie Antoinette dashed off, pulling him along behind her having never let go of his hand.

"Wha—? Hey! And it's Julian!"

Comment:

I said on my profile that I would post this Wednesday, but I think it's Wednesday somewhere in the world already.

Please R&R.

- Minute Maid

Beverage of Queens