A/N: Written for a friend of mine. Done in a really short amount of time, so please excuse any errors you may find. And, if you do find any, please yell at me about them, if you feel like it. Although, (and this should be a given, but) I don't really take flames; critiques, however, are awesome.

It was lunchtime, and the two misfits of Mr. Garrison's third grade class once again found themselves sitting together at a table by themselves. And, once again, some of the other boys in Mr. Garrison's class had managed to steal Damien's lunch from him. Pip, not wanting his friend to starve to death (even though technically, he wasn't sure he could, considering that he was the son of the devil and all), decided to share his lunch with the dark haired boy.

"They're called crumpets," Pip said happily, handing over one of the round pieces of soft bread. "They're quite good with jam. Particularly peach."

Damien eyed the bread with disgust. "That looks like it came from Hell. And that's not a compliment."

"Oh, but it's really quite delicious, I do promise you that. I suggest that you at least try it, lest you starve to death."

Damien shook his head. He wasn't sure why he always sat with the British boy at lunch; they were two completely different people And, half the time, he wasn't even sure what Pip was saying. But, Damien took the crumpet anyways, and he took one, small bite out of it.

"It tastes like hell."

"Is that a compliment?"

"No."

Pip laughed nervously. "Oh, well, I suppose it's not for everyone," he said, shrugging as he went back to his own crumpet.

Damien was about to burn the bread when he suddenly remembered what Pip had said earlier. "Does it really taste better with peach jam?"

Pip nodded. "Yes, very much so."

There was a pause, before Damien spoke up again. "Well, you got any?"

"Oh, oh, yes, yes I do, actually," Pip said quickly, as he handed over a small package of peach jam and a plastic butter knife. "Here, let me put it on for you." Taking Damien's crumpet, he slowly spread the jam across it.

"Why can't I do it?"

"I don't want you to accidentally hurt yourself."

"I'm the son of the devil, nothing can happen to me."

"And that's precisely why I insist on doing it. Now, please, if you would, let me finish."

Damien didn't have time to mull over why the British boy suddenly grew a backbone before he was offered his crumpet back. He took another small bite out of it.

"How does it taste?"

"A little better."

"Oh, jolly good! My, it seems that you have a tiny bit of jam on the side of your mouth, just let me get that for you."

Before Damien could respond, Pip drew closer to him and pecked him lightly on the cheek.

"There, all gone!" Pip exclaimed.

"What -"

The bell rang loudly, and Pip quickly packed up the rest of his lunch and left Damien at the table in shock. As he was walking back to class, Pip smiled.

"Job well done, Pip," he said quietly to himself.