Liz was carrying her laundry basket downstairs when she heard a whimpering moan from Kid's room.

What's wrong with him? She asked herself, I didn't even know he was home! Liz set the basket down and knocked on his door.

"Hey, Kiddo! You alright in there?" she called. He didn't answer but she could hear him groaning and rustling around. His symmetry fits had gotten better with age, so Liz figured something must have really thrown him for a loop if he couldn't even speak.

"Kid! Come on, open the door. Let me in." she demanded, jiggling the doorknob. When he didn't, she pounded on the wood. "Kid, you let me in right now! Do I need to go get your dad?" That particular threat had always worked in the past and it didn't disappoint this time. The lock clicked and the door opened a crack.

"What!" Kid panted. He was shirtless and his eyes were wild beneath his messy hair. He was obviously in the throes of a major panic attack and Liz' heart went out to him. No matter how big he got, some part of him would always be a neurotic little boy with boundary issues to her. He hadn't flaked this badly in a while and Liz felt almost nostalgic as she reflexively went into damage control mode.

"Hey, why are you so upset?" she asked, looking him over, "Where's your shirt? Did you spill something on yourself? I'm taking some stuff down to the laundry, and you know I can get stains out of just about anything!" She started into his room but Kid scrambled into the hallway and yanked the door shut behind him.

"I didn't spill anything! I'm fine, my clothes are fine, everything's fine!" he told her in a fierce whisper.

"Oh yeah, you look just fine. You can't even catch your breath; you're gonna pass out in a minute. Let's go comb your hair and find you something to put on." Liz soothed. She tried to reach past him and open the door but Kid swatted her hand away from the knob.

"Don't go in there!" He hissed, looking angry and terrified at the same time. Liz rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh.

"Why not? What are you doing in there? Moving the furniture around again? Freaking out over sock symmetry? What? And why are you whispering?" she demanded.

"I'm not doing anything. Please leave me alone!"Kid begged in an even quieter voice.

"What do you need to be alone for? You got a girl in there?" Liz joked. Kid turned white as a sheet and shook his head.

"No!"

Liz cocked an eyebrow. Something was definitely going on.

"You got a boy in there?"

"No!" Kid repeated, looking angrier by the second. Liz now had a pretty good idea of what was happening and she couldn't let a perfect opportunity for torture pass her by.

"You got a goat in there? Mongoose? Pot-bellied pig? Oh, please tell me you didn't drag home another zombie chick from the graveyard!" she yelled theatrically, putting her lips as close to the crack in the door as possible.

"Stop. Just stop, okay?" Kid hissed, "I do have a girl in there, and I just got to second base for the first time in my life, and you're ruining it!"

Liz flashed him an evil grin. "So that's what all the crazy hair and the heavy breathing is about. Need any pointers little brother? Who is she anyway?"

Kid drew himself up and stood a little taller. "A gentleman doesn't discuss ladies that way, Liz. You respect the person you love, which means you keep private things private. I'd never tell anybody anything personal about you or Patty would I?"

Liz smiled down at him. He was still shorter than her, but only by an inch or two now. She ruffled his destroyed hair and pulled him into an awkward hug.

"No, you wouldn't. You really are a gentleman, Kiddo. She's lucky to have you," She let go and patted him on the shoulder.

Kid gave Liz a shy smile. "If Patty comes home…."

"I won't let her within a mile of here. Big sis has your back. Now go have fun. Careful fun. I'm not old enough to be an aunt. And whatever you do, don't freak out over boob symmetry or you'll never get laid." Liz picked up her laundry basket and sauntered down the hall, leaving Kid gaping. She heard a tiny feminine giggle behind his door and mentally cross-referenced its pitch against Kid's social acquaintances, figuring in mutual respect and appropriate symmetry. She didn't know why she bothered; it could only be one person. It had only ever been one person for Kid.

Liz turned and watched Kid go back into his room with another wicked grin. She'd always had terrible impulse control when it came to embarrassing Kid; she just couldn't help herself.

"Show him whose the boss, Maka!" she yelled as soon as the lock clicked.