Mustard Snack

Summary: Tyson's hungry yet again and no one's willing to make him anything to eat. That is, no one except his best friend, Max. What has Max gotten himself into? Max&Tyson friendship fic. No slash.

Pairing: None.

Side-Pairings: None.

Warnings: Randomness, Drama, Tyson.

Disclaimer: I own what I own and what I own is not Beyblade.

Hey y'all! ^^ This is the first fanfiction I've ever written so go easy on me, please.

Hope you like it. ^^

~*~*~*~

The afternoon sun warmed the paved stones of the pathway that led from the gate to the dojo's entrance; it shone on the wooden roof of the dojo while birds chirped and hopped about the trees in the backyard. Fish swam contentedly in the calm, blue-green waters of the koi pond that glittered in the light from the golden celestial orb that hung low in the sky, inching towards the horizon.

Ah, another quiet afternoon at the Granger dojo.

"IS ANYONE GOING TO MAKE ME SOME FOOD OR NOT?! IM STARVING HERE!"

Or not.

"Chill out, Tyson. We had lunch just a little while ago!" Tyson's best friend Max Tate held his hands in front of himself and tried to calm Tyson down.

The blue-eyed, blonde-haired blader had been sitting inside, chatting away happily with Mariam and Raul on Kenny's laptop before Tyson had practically hollered his ear off.

The rest of the group of friends was away on their own various expeditions.

Kenny was off looking for spare beyblade parts; Hilary was off shopping for 'some weird girlie party' as Tyson had put it; Hiro was attending an important meeting at the BBA; Ray was in his room, probably cleaning every surface till he could see his face in it; Daichi was off annoying people and challenging them to beybattles; and Kai was off... Somewhere.

"But that seems like ages ag-o-o-o!" Tyson whined.

"Less than seventy minutes, actually." Max shook his head and grinned. "You can't seriously be hungry again so soon can you Ty?"

"I'm a growing boy. I need energy," Tyson pouted childishly.

"So why don't you make something to eat for yourself?"

"…"

"You do know how to cook right?"

"…No."

Max pretended to sigh and grinned again, "So why don't you ask Ray to make you something? I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

"I did."

"Then what?" Max asked, confused.

"He told me to make my own food or get lost," Tyson pouted again. Honestly, if he kept this up, his lower lip was going to fall off soon.

Max giggled, "Well you have been bugging him for extra snacks more often than usual these days."

"It's not my fault! I just…just… get hungry easily," Tyson 'hmph'-ed and crossed his arms and turned away from Max, signifying that he was cross with him.

Max sweat-dropped.

"Uh, well… I'm no master cook like Ray but… I can make you some sandwiches," Max offered, trying to get Tyson to talk to him again. 'That oughta make him happy again,' Max grinned to himself at his brilliance.

What he didn't expect was being tackled by a blue-and-red blur.

"Yay! Thanks Maxie!" Tyson yelled in his ear.

'At this rate I'm going to be deaf before I even turn 17,' (1) Max sighed. "Ty can you please, like, not yell in my ear? It kinda hurts."

Tyson sweat-dropped and jumped away from Max.

"Sorry Maxie," he whispered.

Max grinned, "You can talk in a normal, indoor voice Ty."

"Okay already! Let's just get started," Tyson cried dragging Max towards the kitchen.

Once there, Tyson let go of Max and hoisted himself up on the counter and sat dangling his legs. He grinned and gestured for Max to start making the snack.

"Now, what kind of sandwich do you want, Ty?" Max asked.

"I don't care what kind it is as long as I don't have to wait long."

Max crossed his arms across his chest and put his index finger against his cheek thoughtfully, "Hmmm… What should I make… What should I make…"

"Oh don't mind me Max; I'm only dying of hunger here!" Tyson said, impatiently dangling his legs faster and knocking them against the built-in cupboards under the countertop, making soft thumping sounds.

"Heh heh," Max grinned sheepishly and scratched the back of his head, "Sorry about that, Ty. How about I just make you my Uber Goober Super Duper Mustard Special? It's my favorite!" Max grinned wider, completely ignoring the 'okay-what's-with-the-cheesy-name?' look that Tyson gave him.

"…Sure," Tyson agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly because, knowing his American friend's affinity for all-things-slathered-with-mustard, this sandwich sure was going to live up to its name.

"Alright!" Max gave Tyson a happy, lop-sided, puppy-grin before turning to the refrigerator to take out the few ingredients needed to make the sandwiches. He lined them up on the counter; bread, mayonnaise, cheese, and—most importantly—mustard!

Tyson watched as Max put the bread slices on a plate—without toasting them—and spread mayonnaise on them. Max then placed the slices of cheese on the mayo-fied toast and proceeded to heap unhealthy amounts of mustard on them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Tyson grabbed Max's arm before the blonde could go on an all-out, mustard-squirting rampage. "Max are you trying to kill me with all that mustard?"

"Tyson, mustard's good for you," Max shook his friend's hand off and began squirting mustard on the sandwiches again.

"How the hell do you know?"

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Because, Tyson, I'm the one making food for you," Cheerful and bubbly as Max was, right now he looked downright ticked off at his bluenette friend.

Not wanting to face the wrath of a hyperactive, mustard-happy blonde, Tyson shut up and motioned for Max to continue making his (in)famous sandwiches and gave him his best 'I-worship-the-ground-you-walk-on' smile (Which wasn't really all that great to begin with.)

Max reverted back to his bubbly mode and hummed cheerfully as he finished slathering the poor, defenseless sandwiches with mustard, placed the top slices of bread on them and popped the plate into the microwave. Punching the numbers and setting the timer to twenty seconds, he turned back to Tyson who was staring at him with the cheesy smile still frozen on his face.

"To melt the cheese," Max said, by way of an explanation.

Tyson nodded and pretended he understood exactly why anyone would heat anything with mustard and mayonnaise in it. In all honesty, if Tyson had been able to make something for himself, he'd never have trusted anything that was made by Max that had the word 'mustard' in its name.

But since he couldn't, he kept smiling like a brave idiot and waited for the microwave to turn off.

Finally a 'ding!' sound was heard and Max took out the plate of sandwiches and put it on the table in front of Tyson. Tyson glared at the sandwiches suspiciously and swore to himself that if he died from eating this he'd come back and haunt Max every freaking time he tried to touch a mustard bottle again.

Noticing Max's eyes on him he put on his brave-but-about-to-be-martyred face back on and picked up a sandwich and glanced at Max again who gestured for him to take a bite.

Tyson sighed and prayed God was seeing this so when he died, he'd have proof that he was murdered by an evil, sandwich-making blonde.

Max rolled his eyes at Tyson's overly-dramatic martyr expression, "Tyson, will you get on with it? It's not poison."

'Says you!' Tyson sighed dramatically again and pretended to write a will on the table, and then (finally) took a tentative bite and chewed a bit.

Suddenly his eyes grew wide and he gasped, "Oh my GOD! MA-AX!"

~*~*~*~

The next day Ray was meditating in the backyard under a tree surrounded by a few bushes.

Inhale. Exhale. Inha—what?

His keen, cat-like ears had picked up a slight but distinct shuffling sound coming from one of the bushes surrounding the tree.

Quick and silent as a cat he sprang up and dived into the bushes and dragged out the person hiding there. His eyes widened a bit in surprise when he saw who it was.

"Max?!"

The blonde looked like a cornered puppy.

"Where's Tyson?" he whispered urgently.

"Huh? He's inside; arguing with Hilary."

"Phew," The water-turtle leaned back against the tree.

"Max, what's going on? Tyson was looking for you all morning. He kept hollering something about sandwiches," Ray cocked an eyebrow and waited for the blonde to answer.

Max sighed, "Well, yesterday I made Tyson my Uber Goober Super Duper Mustard Special," Again, he ignored the look that the cheesy name earned him, "And then…"

*((Flashback))*

"Oh my GOD! MA-AX!" Tyson yelled.

Max jumped up in concern. "Tyson, what's wrong?! Do you need water? You're not allergic to mustard or something are you?" Max asked, looking horrified at the thought.

"NO!"

"Huh?" The blonde looked confused, "Then what's wrong?"

"It's just… This sandwich is awesome! I totally love it, bud!" Tyson grinned his 'still-worshipping-the-ground-you-walk-on' grin.

"Oh. Cool then." Max laughed.

"You have to make more of these!"

"Huh?" Max blinked.

"I need more sandwiches!" Tyson cried showing him the empty plate that had been piled with sandwiches a few moments ago.

"Sorry, Ty, but you'll have to make them yourself if you want more," Max grinned.

"Fine if you won't make them willingly, I'll kidnap you and force you to make these all day, every day for the rest of your life!" Tyson laughed maniacally. Max backed away a bit. If this had been said by anyone else, Max would've believed they were joking but what with Tyson's cracked obsession with food, he suddenly wasn't so confident about his own safety.

Tyson cackled once more and lunged at Max who dodged him and ran for his life.

*((End Flashback))*

By the end of the story Max could see that Ray was trying very hard not to laugh.

"It's not funny," he grumbled.

Ray snickered, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, "Yeah it is!"

"Quit it, Ray."

Suddenly Ray got an evil glint in his eyes and a mischievous neko-jin grin formed on his lips.

That grin never meant anything good.

"Ray," Max said slowly, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking..." Ray began as he turned to walk towards the dojo.

"Yes…?" Max called after him, still suspicious.

"…THAT TYSON WOULD LOVE TO KNOW YOU'VE BEEN HIDING FROM HIM IN THE BACKYARD, MAX!" Ray bolted inside, yelling loud enough for half of Tokyo to hear.

"Ray!" Max gasped, horrified. "Noooo!"

He didn't get a chance to say more than that because just at that moment Tyson came hurtling out from the dojo, "MAXIE!!!!!"

But Max had already bolted out the gate and was now running down the street as fast as his legs would go, "RAY, I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!!!"

~*~*~*~

(1)- This is during the third season (G-revolution) so I guess Max must be around 15 right now. ^^;

That's it. My first-ever fan fiction. *dances around happily with a Kai plushie*

It may not be all that but I'm pretty proud of how it turned out. ^^

Btw, I really do make those sandwiches! xD And no, if you're wondering, they're not called Uber Goober whatever xP

Reviews may motivate me to be nicer to people.

Thank you!

Infa~