Tyki slowly crept around the corner of the sprawling mansion that occupied a good portion of the mountains that he and his "family" currently resided in. So far, so good. But just to be sure… He looked around again, then doubled back through the wall, reappearing on the other side, near the gardens. All clear. He closed his eyes, inhaled the sweet scent of the large jasmines and lilies strategically placed in just the right places to allow them enough sun and water, and let the calm, still air wrap around him, overtaking his senses. Finally, relaxation. It had been so long, he'd almost forgotten what it was like. Taking another deep breath, he opened his eyes, smirked, and strolled toward one of the cushioned chairs. He lowered himself into the seat, pleasuring in the sensation of being alone for at least a minute, and unfolded his newspaper. Just as his eyes met the first few words of the main article-

"ATTAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!"

"ATTACK HII!"

Two small gray blurs catapulted out of a nearby hedge, and before he knew it, Tyki was blasted with two strong streams of water. Sputtering, he rubbed his eyes frantically. Blinking, he glared around just in time to see the two retreating backs of the twins, Jasdero and Devit. Both were shrieking at the top of their lungs, their tiny hands clamped around what looked like water pistols.

When Devit had decided that he and his twin had put enough distance between themselves and the sopping wet Tyki, he stopped, cupped one hand around his mouth, and bellowed over his shoulder: "THAT'S FOR MAKIN' US TAKE A BATH LAST WEEK."

He and Jasdero doubled over in giggles, then took off again.

Tyki glared blankly at them, then combed a hand through his wet, curly hair, sighing. Ever since the twins had been officially brought into the Noah clan a little over a month ago, they had done nothing but entertain themselves, which (unfortunately for Tyki), usually involved hurting him in some way or form.

Road had brought them home from some small town in North America. At the time, both of them had been frightened out of their wits. In fact, for a good four days, Jasdero would speak to no one other than Devit and, on rare occasions, the Earl.

But once they'd gotten comfortable…

Tyki glared at the wet, goopy mess that was once his newspaper. He scooped it up with one hand and unceremoniously dumped it into a large flower pot.

Now, how could he find a way to get rid of those water pistols without the boys noticing?

--

Real guns?

The Earl had trusted the boys with REAL GUNS?!

"Yep." Devit (who only stood at about 4'10") bragged, "The Earl said since we materialize stuff, we need stuff to make stuff with. You know, stuff with our minds. That stuff. Like water and stuff."

Tyki mentally tried to translate, but the amount of "stuff"s threw him off. He shook his head, "But guns?! I don't think that boys your age-"

"Shut up, Tyki!" Devit shouted, pointing his new gun threateningly at the man. "What do you know about us anyway, huh? Y'know, I bet you're just jealous, 'cause all you have are stupid butterflies."

Jasdero followed suit, aiming his gun at Tyki's stomach.

"Yeah, shut up, stupid Tyki, hii!" he screeched.

"Don't force us to use these!" Devit continued almost happily.

"Jasdevi will make soap if we have to, hii!" said Jasdero in total seriousness.

"I need a cigarette." Tyki groaned, passing through the boys.

"HEY NO FAIR!" Devit protested immediately. "YOU CAN'T DO THAT!"

"CHEATER CHEATER!" Jasdero cried.

"YEAH, YOU CHEATER, GET BACK HERE AND FIGHT LIKE A NOAH!"

Tyki ignored them, and continued to stay intangible until he was outside. Extracting a cigarette from his shirt pocket, he placed it between his lips and struck a match. Lighting it, he inhaled and looked around. His eyes finally rested on the roof that was four stories above his head. Choosing not to make contact with the air around him, he quickly climbed up to the top of the mansion. Settling down on the corner of one of the chimney's, he took a long drag from his cigarette and groaned inwardly.

Two boys that barely reached his waist had somehow managed to force him, a full grown Noah, to escape his own house.

Finishing his first cigarette, he stuck his fingers into his shirt pocket, pulled out another, and struck the match. Waving it out, he sighed.

It was going to be a long few years.