Hey, y'all! I'm really on a roll with one-shots nowadays... Haha! It's only because of my PPWI (daphrose, if you're reading this - ;-D) that I'm not updating my multi-chapter stories right now. So I give you these while you wait! As for what PPWI stands for - that's for me to know and you to find out! Type you guesses in the review box, please!

Anyhow, this story I've been writing for a while and finally got around to finishing yesterday. Some reviewers reading this right now have already read parts of it, but please re-read the parts I gave you because it went through massive editing in sections because I was highly dissatisfied with it. Please enjoy and R&R!

Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.

It was just a sunny, perfect, absolutely, normally crazy day at the Davenport household in Mission Creek.

That is to say, Adam was doing target practice in the kitchen, aiming at a splatter of green, yellow, and red plastic fruits; Bree was yelling into the phone trying to give a sobbing, hysterical Caitlin boyfriend advice; Chase was in the lab practicing endless number crunching exercises of binary code on Donald's computer; Leo was looking in the "Room of Mirrors," dubbed "A Room Full of Me" by Donald, practicing his "L. Do" choreographed poses to impress Janelle; Donald himself was trying to fix his glitching Invisibility-Holographic Camera; Tasha was rearranging her sewing room to try to convince Bree to come back and be her company; and Eddy… Eddy was doing whatever kinds of freaky things emoticons do, like spy on people in the shower without their consent.

Without giving any more details, it was absolutely normal chaos.

"Guys, would one of you help me test this out? I think I fixed the bug in the C++ program," Donald yelled to no one in particular.

Chase didn't raise his eyes from the glowing screen. "I'll do it when I finish this exercise." He continued rapidly typing, though nowhere close to Bree's typing speed/words per minute (WPM).

Davenport waited patiently for the next five minutes, staring at his other award-winning inventions on the cyber-desk. Then, he began continuing to tinker, fiddle, and withdraw sparks with the Invisibility Holographic Camera for the next ten or so minutes, give or take.

Fifteen minutes later, he finally glanced over to see Chase, who was still typing rapidly. Something, however, seemed slightly different about his posture. It looked—odd, to say. Hard to describe, but Chase definitely was slouching. But his movements looked a little groggy and forced.

Donald walked over and gently tapped Chase on the nape of his neck.

Chase's entire body jerked upward like it was being pulled by strings, his eyes flying open, yelling "What did I miss? What did I miss?"

Chase had been sleep typing! Donald thought gleefully. This will make great blackmail for his siblings! The more childish side of him noted.

"Good news, Chase! Your WPM goes up when you fall asleep? How weird is that?" He said with fake enthusiasm, barely struggling to contain the urge to run upstairs and tell Adam and Bree.

Chase glared at Donald. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

Donald shook his head too cheerfully. "Nope!"

Chase groaned good-naturedly and said, "Okay, what do you need again?"

"I said I wanted one of you—well, I really meant you, Chase—to help me test out Invisibility/Holographic Camera since I have now fixed it! Ha! I, Donald Davenport, fixed it! Boom!" Donald went through his oddly familiar ritual with shooting a "finger-gun," blowing out the sparks, and sticking it back into the imaginary holster. Chase rolled his eyes at the childish gesture.

"Um… okay… then…" Chase responded, wishing that he could've been out of the room while Donald did his immature rituals.

Leo then came down into the lab, carrying an invention that he shouldn't have been carrying but was carrying anyway because it looked cool to carry. "Hey, Big 'D.' Hey, Chase. Check this baby out!"

Donald ran over, clearly panicked, and said, "Leo, put that down! That is a very, very, very, very, VERY bad thing to carry like that when the beam is pointing towards your face!"

Donald then tried to grab the invention from Leo's hands, and Leo kept dodging him and whining, "Aw, come on, Big 'D,' what's the worst thing that could happen?"

Donald sighed, frustrated, and said, "This is an invention that makes foods healthier—so you know how many obese people are walking around these days because they're eating too much fried and fat food?"

Chase interrupted, "Like Principal Perry?" He had been watching Donald try and snatch the invention out of Leo's hands, feeling highly amused.

"Chase, that's rude," Donald said in a matter-of-fact tone. He then leaned over and said in a fake stage-whisper, "But I agree with you 100%!"

"So…" Leo butted in. "Continue on how it works…?" His voice went higher up as he started looking around for "unhealthy" foods in the lab to zap just to see how it worked. Of course, the lab was, as usual, spotless.

"Well, see, a lot of unhealthy ingredients such as fried fat and high fructose corn syrup are in foods such as—"

"Did I hear food?" Adam intervened in the conversation yet again, hands in his spray-on-jeans pockets. Apparently, he was done with target practice after Tasha yelled at him for setting the counter-top on fire.

"—Foods such as chicken nuggets—" Donald tried again to continue but with no avail.

"What are chicken nuggets?" Adam asked.

"Adam, I knew you were dumb, but… really?" Chase said condescendingly.

Adam was about to respond, most likely with a short joke, as usual, and then once again, Bree, who came speeding across the lab, interrupted him. "Whoa! A food that's not on Adam's Incredible Edibles? That's new," she snorted. "No, Caitlin, I don't know whether Jeremy thinks that the Domino Wars are cool or not!" She continued yelling into the phone, holding up her index finger to signal that if anybody wanted to talk to her, they had to wait.

Adam waited for—no, he dared anybody to interrupt him again, and finally finished, "So, Mr. Davenport—what is a chicken nugget?"

Mr. Davenport fingered with his black sweater and said, "A chicken nugget is, well, you know—chicken in uh, well…"

Chase interrupted once again, earning grumbles from Donald, cockily and loudly, "A chicken nugget is a chicken product made from either meat slurry or chicken breasts cut to shape breaded, or battered, then deep-fried or—"

Bree glared at Chase, and Chase shut up immediately, making faces that were conveyed as, "Well, you asked." Petulantly, of course, but it was Chase personality all the way through.

"How come I've never eaten one?" Adam asked thoughtfully, pulling his very long list of Incredible Edibles out of a drawer in the lab. It was comically long—twelve feet, the paper curling at the ends, and covered in scribbles and marks.

Donald began to say something, and then his eyes widened, and said in a fake, cheerful voice that was drawn out and seemed to be his 'commercial voice,' "What do you mean, Adam? You've always had chicken nuggets!"

"Why are you talking like that, Mr. Davenport?" Bree asked. Donald's eyes widened even further, the same way they had when Tasha had confronted him about never celebrating Christmas properly, and then—

Aha. Adam, Bree, and Chase wheeled around and saw Tasha standing in the elevator with her hands on her hips.

Donald grinned nervously. "Hi, honey…"

Tasha pursed her lips and said, "Donald, have the kids, er, teens, ever been taken to a fast-food place? Anybody who's been to a fast-food place should know about chicken nuggets!"

If Donald's thoughts could be projected in a giant "thought cloud" popping above his head, "B-b-b-busted!" would be one of the thoughts for certain. At least, that's what Leo was thinking as his mother grilled Big "D."

"Well," Donald said trying to cover his tracks up. "Chase knows what fast-food is, and yet he's never been to a McDonald's, so…"

"So he hasn't ever been to McDonald's!" Tasha said triumphantly.

Donald's eyes darted around.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Davenport, wouldn't you just admit it that we were a little deprived as kids?" Bree said, smiling just a bit while still listening to Caitlyn rant about the insincerity of Kenny saying Tech Town was a great place for him to work.

"Deprived? As kids! Haha! You're all crazy! You had bionics! What—I mean, come on! Do you really think—now that's just…" He spluttered to a stop.

Tasha said, "I think we should go on a family trip," resulting in groans from Donald.

"Wait, weren't we just talking about McDonald's? How come we're talking about a road trip now?" Adam questioned.

"No," Chase said patronizingly, dragging out the 'o' sound in 'no.' "We were talking about the elves that came out in the moonlight and did a dance around the bonfire."

"We were?" Adam said, scrunching his face up in deep thought. "I thought Tasha was talking about a—hey, Tasha!" He shouted.

Tasha turned around to see Donald trying to sneak out the lab. "Donald, come back here!" She exclaimed, grabbing him by his shirt. "We are going to take the kids—"

"Teens!" Bree piped up.

"—Teens to McDonald's! Let them enjoy the taste of the world. It's not like anything could go wrong. I mean, the world knows about their bionics. It's not going to kill them or anything."

Donald protested, "Do you know what those sodas do to my perfectly balanced stomach?"

"Make you overly conceited? Yes, they do!"

Donald relented. "Fine, we'll go. On one condition—the kids stay away from my fries!"

"I wouldn't promise anything," said Adam simply. He revealed his clenched fist from behind his back and opened it up.

"My Ringtone Archives!" Donald gasped, yanking it out of Adam's open fist. "What were you doing with that!?"

"Is that what it is?" Adam said innocently as a ringtone, sung by Donald, floated out of the device.

"Davenport, Davenport, somebody wants to call Davenport!"

"It's catchy," Donald said petulantly.

"Remind me why I'm here," Adam whined. He had gone through all of the chocolate-covered cherries in the self-driving car's snack canister, added it to his long list of Incredible Edibles, and then started breathing on the window, making pictures of his depiction of Chase the Lady Golfer.

"You wanted to add McDonald's foods to your Incredible Edibles," Chase reminded him, bored.

"This reminds me of the time we went ice-skating." Bree commented. "Only I wanted to do it and then other people joined in and Mr. Davenport was reluctant to do it, but oh! Once the smooch-smooch with Tasha started, he was all for it!"

Donald blushed. "Be quiet, Bree! We're almost there, Adam. No, Chase, we're not stopping by the new science center right now."

Chase's mouth closed and he started sadly at the awesome greenhouse and the electrical exhibit through the museum's glass walls.

Bree snapped her phone closed. "The only reason I'm not on my phone right now is because Caitlyn wants to go over to Dustin's house. So the second she calls, you losers are on your own." She stared pointedly at Donald.

"What? You rely too much on your phone to have fun."

"Oh, so now you think McDonald's is fun? Now you want to go to McDonald's!" Bree said.

"Well, it's only because—"

"Quit it!" Tasha yelled, causing Donald to almost lose control of the steering wheel and plow right into the truck in the left lane. "I'll pay for that!" Donald yelled at the window, as Adam wondered how many dents there were in the truck already.

"We're here," Tasha said. "And don't think that just because people know about your bionics, you'll be able to trash the room."

"This is the first time we've gone out since the press conference," Chase said. "What are people going to think of us?"

"Probably the same way they thought of you at school," Leo remarked. Chase jumped, as Leo had been unusually silent the entire ride.

"Leo, you were unusually silent the entire ride," Bree mused. "What's up?"

"When do you ever care about things like that?"

"I don't."

"Then why'd you ask?"

"One more out of either of you and you're grounded." Donald seethed. "Let's get out of the car, calmly, and stay behind me so people can admire me first!" He struck a rock-star pose.

"Old people. You don't think you are, but you are." Leo wrinkled his nose in disgust. Adam, Bree, and Chase nodded in silent agreement.

Donald frowned, and then strutted out of the car. The rest of the Davenport-Dooleys followed him through the door.

As soon as they entered, two teenagers jumped up. "Hey, look, it's the bionic superhumans!"

"Freaks," a middle-aged lady mumbled, and left as she was ordering.

Chase cringed.

"Who are you calling a freak? You want to deal with this?" Adam yelled.

The lady took one look at Adam's muscles and left.

Adam leaned over and whispered in Bree's ear. "Now tell me and be honest, do you think I was too subtle in letting her know that we aren't freaks?"

Bree rolled her eyes and threw her arms up in the air. "Thanks so very much, Adam, now you've just drawn more attention to us. Great."

Meanwhile, Chase was looking over at two girls by the window, about his age. It was obvious he found them pretty. What was even funnier was that he was trying to hide it. His eyes weren't moons, at least, and his mouth wasn't open. But his usually pale skin tone was turning a reddish tone, and he was subconsciously tensing up, showing off his muscles.

One of the girls, a tall, skinny, cliché cheerleader, sashayed up to him and said, "You're the cute bionic one, right?"

Chase nodded. She was over a foot taller than him!

"You're the one with smarts, right?"

He nodded, barely perceptible.

"Is that all you have? That's boring." She smacked her gum, the trance on Chase broken.

"Well—no!" Chase said indignantly, speaking. "I've got other abilities, too!"

"Then show me to impress me," the cheerleader said, inspecting her cuticles.

"Well—" Chase said awkwardly. "I can't, right here. It's too busy."

"Then I guess you're not as cool as I thought." She smiled tauntingly, daring Chase to take the bait.

"You asked for it!" Chase blurted, and used his molecular kinesis to pull the gum right out of her mouth.

The cheerleader, shocked, was frozen for a moment as she watched her pink bubblegum get deposited in the garbage container by an invisible force, before whipping out her phone, her thumbs furiously working at the keypad.

Meanwhile, Adam was staring intently at the menu board. "Chicken nuggets… big Mac Burgers… Onion Rings 'n' French Fry Combo… Cheesy Melt…" There are so many things to choose from!

I can't decide. BUT I NEED TO GET EVERYTHING I HAVEN'T HAD ON THE MENU BOARD ONTO MY INCREDIBLE EDIBLES LIST!

Besides, Mr. Davenport's a multi-billionaire. It wouldn't kill him if I went a little overboard on the food, right? It's not like I'm wasting anything. We can take things home in the carryout boxes that I always make Chase carry on the way home when we have Chinese.

So I'll just order everything.

Problem solved.

A pretty girl no older than nineteen was behind the counter, looking cheerful and attentive. How can anyone who works at this cheap place be cheerful and happy? I'd be miserable, Donald thought, looking down his nose at her. Literally. He tilted his head back and gave a superior air.

"Donald Davenport, multi-billionaire and genius inventor," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Presuming you don't recognize me because I look so much younger in person, yes?"

The girl, whose plastic nametag said in neat block letters "BAILEE, *" looked at Donald with a bored expression. "Look, sir, if you're done bragging about what accolades you have come to tack onto your name, there is a long line, your family is disrupting the…" she paused and took a closer look at said family. "… Uh… So sorry, sir! I had no idea you were the creator of the bionic superhumans," she added in a much more respectful tone. "What would you like to get?" She nervously bit her lip. What if this man sets his bionic powerhouses on me just because I was a little bit rude because he kept on boasting about himself?

"Well," Donald said, pleased that the girl was finally giving him the deference he deserved, "I could go for a grilled burger with cheese but no onions and with lettuce and tomato—"

The girl frantically typed into the keypad his already long order.

"—but with pickles and ketchup and mustard—"

"Sir, you get your own ketchup and mustard at the Condiments Station…"

"—and I'd like the burger grilled well-done, preferably a burger made with low carbs, a side of large fries, onions rings, make that a small, and maybe have some pancetta…?

"Sir, we aren't a fancy short-order restaurant. You may order the regular "toppings," if you will. But we do not have pancetta!" Exclaimed Bailee, frustrated by Donald's lack of thoughtfulness and his superior air he carried around with him. "So order up and stop holding up the line!" She finished, snapping.

Donald, shocked, yelled, "Kids! Tasha! B-a-i-l-e-e," he said slowly, looking at Bailee's nametag, "says that we're holding up the line!" He continued.

"Teens," grumbled Bree. "When will Mr. Davenports and Tasha ever learn!?" She rolled her eyes, finished flipping through the magazine rack near the entryway, and ordered a salad because she didn't want to fill up on fatty foods.

French fries couldn't hurt.

Therefore, she ordered a small side of French fries—yes, with some onion dip—and a diet Coke. It was diet, after all.

"Can you make the onion dip with the lowest calories possible?" She asked.

"Honey, you don't have any need to be worried about your weight." Bailee read between the lines.

"I'm not! It's just that I—well, I was—you see… I was—" Bree mumbled, blushing furiously and holding up the magazine stand magazine she'd been reading: How To Be That Fabulous Fashionista You've Always Envied.

"That? That? You're reading that so you can make yourself look prettier? What is wrong with your brain? Honey, has anyone ever said that you're a beautiful girl?"

"…No," Bree said slowly. "Never."

"And why ever not? You've got all you need—the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the beautiful face and smooth skin, the skinny waistline… Fabulous Fashionista is one of the most stupid magazines they put in the stands," Bailee whispered as several other employees were around, rushing to fill orders as everybody in the Davenport's line had switched over to others, as the Davenports were taking more than a long time.

"But—but it's recommended in the Critics Fashion Magazines reviews!" Bree defended her favorite fashion article.

"Hon, do I need to draw a picture for you? *" Bailee said, rolling her eyes. Young teenagers these days can't ever see the forest for its trees. "The CFM reviews are fakes. The Fabulous Fashionista editors and writers and photographers and managers all pay the CFM reviews to say good things about them!"

Bree was crushed. "Then it'll be a regular Coke."

Bailee raised an eyebrow. "That's it? That's all you're going to change?"

A smile slowly blossomed on Bree's face. "Make it a medium size of fries and a double-decker BLT/Hamburger combo!"

"That's the spirit!" Bailee said, smiling inside. She punched in the order. "Next!"

Bree lingered for a bit, as Chase, Leo, and Tasha were still doing whatever crazy things they were doing (well, not Tasha, but… where was Tasha? Oh, she was reprimanding Leo for eyeing a senior's fries and asking, "You gonna eat those?") and would be a little bit before they came to their senses and ordered. "Bailee?" She added hesitantly.

"Yes, hon?" Bailee drawled, continuing to balance the check of the orders so far. She didn't look up, but Bree could just tell she was listening.

"I guess… thanks for everything, I mean, you know… telling me the truth behind, um, the CMF reviews and the FF scandal…" Bree's words tumbled out, not exactly phrased smoothly.

"You're welcome." Bailee showed a small hint of a smile. I swear, I'm gettin' soft with this family. "And kid?"

I'll ignore the fact that she called me "kid."

"I'm not always going to be there to tell you about the scams out there. You've gotta learn to read between the lines. You havta learn to see the whole picture without someone drawing it for ya. Didn't your parents ever teach you to be street smart?

I grew up in a basement for sixteen years. I'm bionic. Really!?

"No."

"Well, they should've. My point being—stop being so clueless. Be aware to the world around you. But don't obsess. Enjoy it. Next!"

Bailee's abrupt "NEXT" call startled Bree, and she quickly moved out of the way. Leo and Tasha were next in line, and they look impatient.

Bailee really doesn't want to show she cares, Bree thought. But she's a good person. That's what counts right?

"Move it!" Leo snapped. She'd been standing there thinking for a minute about Bailee and their half-friendship.

"Geez, sorry, Leo!"

He raised his right arm. "Don't make me use this!"

Bree teased him. "Remember what Davenport said! You have to keep your bionics a secret because they'll make you join the government with us!"

Leo grumbled unpleasantly but lowered his arm.

Wait. I'm sure Bailee watches the news. She never mentioned my bionics when we were talking!

Bree felt pure bliss. She's scolding me like a real person. I feel wonderful!

Then, a crying kid in a high chair threw a ketchup-covered onion ring because he was having a temper tantrum. It flew the air and landing spattered on Bree's new high-heeled black boots.

"No!"

Leo had ordered relatively quickly after checking out Bailee, of course. Wow… she's a hot chick! He had obviously made it, well, obvious… because Bailee had noticed, and she was more observant than she let on.

Which makes her even hotter.

"What're you staring at, kid?" She brushed a loose strand of hair from her forehead, which made Leo "love" her even more.

"You…" he whispered, entranced.

"Snap out of it," Bailee, well, snapped. "I already have a boyfriend."

It doesn't make me stop loving you…

"What would you like to order?"

"The Bailee-Burger with extra—"

"Excuse me!?"

Snap out of it, Dooley! Remember the horrible mistake of the "Peanut-Butter & Janelle-y Sandwich" incident… She's already got a boyfriend! Stop thinking of her!

"I said I'll get a bacon burger and chicken strips with onion rings," Leo repeated, calmly. Yes! I've got it down!

And yet he stared at her dreamily as she tapped out his order. Without even looking up, she threw the pen on the counter at Leo's head. "You're looking at me."

Oh, she's good.

"If that's how you want to play it—I… I have a girlfriend, too!"

"Then you shouldn't be checking me out," countered Bailee.

"Well, uh… she's not here, so I just…"

"You thought you'd cheat on her?" She smiled, a broad smile, and took the pen off the counter where it had ricocheted from Leo's head.

Leo was saved from having to answer it as Tasha butted in, "Leo isn't cheating on anybody! I'd like Premium Crispy Chicken Bacon Clubhouse Sandwich," she ordered, forking over the money. "So… what were you talking to my son about? I apologize for anything he's said," Tasha continued.

Bailee knew when to turn on 'polite-mode.' "It's fine, ma'am. Your son is adorable," she said cheekily, giving Leo an evil grin when Tasha's head was turned.

Leo gave her a disgusted look full of now-new hatred.

"Well!" exerted Tasha. "I think we've all had quite a workout simply ordering everything." Everybody nodded.

"The food's coming," said Donald, eager to leave the table and get away from the glares Tasha was giving him.

He was also very happy to get away from the prying eyes of the people around them gawking at the bionic super-humans.

"Is it true that you can really pick up an entire weight rack with just three fingers? My dad can only pick up one!"

"Yes," demonstrated Adam, picking up Chase. "Put me down, you cabbage-headed imbecile!

"Can you really run at the speed of light?" scoffed another. "I'm the fastest kid at my school and I bet I could beat you."

"You, there, the one mocking my speed—have you seen the news when our bionics were recorded? I'm obviously faster than you," snapped Bree, offended.

"Oh, yeah? I challenge you to a race." The girl dared.

"Please," scoffed Bree. "I don't need to race you. I'll do it later. I'd like to eat, actually."

"Scared, are you?" The girl taunted.

"Kid, if I were scared, I wouldn't be so calm right now, would I?"

The girl accepted and backed off, muttering to her friends, "What does that stuck-up bionic girl think, being bionic means being faster than the fastest girl at a private school?" Her friends nodded in agreement and they all cast dark looks at Bree, who snapped a picture of them with her much-loved cell-phone, and uploaded it to the Internet. "#JealousGirls!" She said, smirking.

It really was an ugly picture. They wouldn't be laughing anymore anytime soon.

When the surrounding kids had gotten somewhat bored with the bionic humans, said bionic humans finally got to eat their food.

"This is so unhealthy," Chase muttered as he dove into chicken sandwich. "I hate myself for loving it." His family watched in shock as the boy genius finally acted a little more immaturely than he usually did (as Mission Leader, after all, he did have to act older than he really was and it was quite unfair) and gobbled down his meal.

Bree daintily ate her fast food, but gave up with the fork when she just couldn't saw off a roundish piece of burger. Fast food will always be fast food, even with a fork and knife, she reminisced.

"Nobody eats burgers with a fork and knife, anyway," Donald said, startling Bree. She looked up to see the tech mogul with food stains smeared all over his face.

"Father Time has made you come to your sense," she said dryly. "Your stains accent your age wrinkles."

"What!?" Donald gasped, clapping his hands to his cheeks. "Everybody, eat without me, even though—" He smiled broadly. "—Even though I know it's painful to, because I have got to go to the bathroom!" He made a mad dash for the men's room.

"Even when he has a horrible self-image of himself he manages to make himself far superior to us," Leo complained.

"I find the entire experience satisfying to my gustatory cells," Adam said philosophically and scientifically.

"Whoa," Leo bolted upright. "Please tell me I'm not in another Parallel Universe. No! No! It can't be! Wait… but I'm already bionic, technically in the real world. So does that mean…? But if… I—ugh!"

Bree looked at him amusedly. "What's with him?"

"Maybe he was telling the truth about the so-called 'dream' he had of being in a Parallel Universe where we were all direct opposites and he was bionic," Chase noted.

There was paused silence.

And then Adam, Bree, and Chase burst into synchronized laughter.

"Like that would ever happen!"

"Leo has a wayyy too over-reactive imagination!"

"I want a blue pony named 'Purple!' "

Silence again. "Adam, what are you talking about now?

"Oh. I thought we were all shouting random things."

Donald came back to the table, relieved that he didn't look too old yet, and Leo jumped up. "I'm going to the restroom," he said. "Don't touch my French fries," he warned.

"Of course we won't," Chase reassured him.

"Good, because if you do, I will shock you with my new bionic friend!" Leo raised his left arm in a muscle-show-off stance.

"Other hand, Leo," Chase laughed.

"—My new bionic friend," Leo corrected. "DON'T TOUCH MY FRIES!"

"You know what I'm thinking?" Bree lifted her eyebrows mischievously.

"That we should really go to a ranch and get my blue pony named 'Purple?' because we already dissed the idea of a purple pony named 'Blue?' " Adam intoned. "Yes!"

"No!" Bree looked at him with a face that conveyed, I couldn't ever believe in a million years I'm related to you.

"That we should touch his fries," Chase gave Adam a look that meant, I pity your stupid-ness.

"Yes," Bree said. "But I'm not going to be the one to do it."

"But you were the one who suggested it," Chase implied. "Therefore, you should get the honors of doing it. Besides, you're the fastest one of all three of us. You should be able to move your hands away from Leo's fries in case Leo comes back earlier than expected."

"You keep tabs on Leo's average time in the bathroom?"

"Hey, when school gets out, there's nothing to do." Chase defend himself, embarrassed. "Anyways," he continued, "I'll keep lookout. I'll give you a warning we he comes back." He tapped his temple, smiling. "This is totally going to boost my bad boy cred."

"Spoken like a true bad boy," Bree gave him a funny stare.

"What's my part in all of this?" Adam said curiously.

"You… just, uh, sit there and look tough."

Adam rolled up his sleeves. "I can do that! Going into 'tough mode,' " he said, sliding his hand over his face.

Chase and Bree rolled their eyes.

Bree hesitantly took one fry from Leo's plastic box and ate it. Looking around nervously, she did it again.

She was on her twenty-third French fry and had almost finished the box when Chase said urgently, "Leo's coming!"

"Oh, no, oh, no," Bree whispered to herself. She whipped her hand back as Leo came into sight. Luckily, the bathroom was around a blind corner, so he had no view of her in front of the box before she had moved.

"So, uh, Leo," Chase said, his eyes everywhere except Leo's face. "Why were you, um, in the bathroom so long?"

Leo stared dreamily at the cashier register.

"OOH! You like Bailee!" Bree said teasingly.

"I do not! She's way too old for me. She's like, nineteen! I'm only fifteen." Counter to his words, he continued staring with big doe eyes at her.

"I agree with you one-hundred percent," Bree droned sarcastically.

Leo glanced over at her fingers. They were bright red. I've caught you red-handed, Leo thought in his "tough mission voice."

Bree seemed to realize it at the same time. The damn* ketchup.

"DID YOU TOUCH MY FRIES?"

I was unhappy with the ending, but the story really started to drag out, and although I disagree, some of my reviewers say they dislike it when I make too-long one-shots, and they get bored. So to those people - So sorry if you abandoned the story midpoint. But I hope you have the discipline later to stick with it. Like I was saying - it ended on a weird "note," just like Timber does... that's besides the point. Wow, I'm in a really digressive mood today. So don't complain about a bad ending, please. But do review! I always love your reviews... and maybe we can get to twenty? Maybe asking too much, but it would make me sooooo happy!

Footnote No. 1: Bailee is a girl's name that means "servant." A little extreme, considering she's a waitress at McDonald's, but I still think the name suits her. Although I am against boy's names for girls. Ha!

Footnote No. 2: So sorry if I offended anybody who doesn't cuss. "Dang" just didn't seem to cut it at that point.

I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors.