Hello, everybody! Itanu here.

Let me start by saying that this is my first fic ever for My Life as a Teenage Robot. I've been a fan of it for a while now, but I have not until now taken the initiative to use my writing abilities and jump into the fandom. Besides, I needed to take some time to actually get as well-acquainted as I could get with the show's fictional universe.

But enough of the small talk. Let's get crackin'!

I don't own Bradley or Tuck Carbunkle, or any other component of MLaaTR. They are copyright and trademark to Rob Renzetti and Nickelodeon. I did make up Sarah Carbunkle, however.

"So, class, in conclusion," the English teacher finished, "Tomorrow, your registration paperwork is due. Next week, we'll be starting the actual material."

Bradley Carbunkle held up his head with his left hand as he continued to look to the front of the classroom. His willpower struggled to prevent his eyes from traveling to his currently-unsupervised right hand, as it trailed where it wished on the blank side of the paper on his desk.

Just a week into Senior year, Brad could tell that this wasn't exactly going to be the corona of his high school life.

'Besides,' Brad thought, 'Not that much about high school is really much of a thrill anymore.'

Right now, Brad felt as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders- and curiously, he didn't have a clue what it was about.

R-r-r-r-ring!

The sound of the last bell of the day was a welcome one to everybody in the room; by the time the teacher finished the act of bidding a good day to everyone, about three-quarters of the entire class had exited the room.

The teacher turned around after deeming everyone gone- only to see that Brad was still at his desk.

"Bradley?" the teacher started, earning an unenthusiastic grunt from the red-headed boy, "That was the bell."

"Huh? Oh, Right!" Brad responded. He packed up his backpack, mounted it on his shoulder, and paced to the door. Then, hiding his inexplicable sorrow, he added, "See ya tomorrow, Teach!" And then, he was gone.

As he walked out of Tremorton High's courtyard, Brad reviewed his Schedule.

First period was Calculus, which they'd already started doing. Boredom had never yielded such a headache in his life before. Thank God he had come to school early and done his homework ahead of time, then. Granted, he had rushed through, but at least he didn't have to worry about it tonight.

Brad's attempt to go over second period was interrupted by his notification of interactions between other students. As he'd gone through the halls earlier, he had also seen quite a bit of interaction. Walking, talking… some couples were even holding hands. Brad couldn't help a bit of envy and guilt adding on to his inexplicable feeling.

"Nope," Brad scolded himself, "can't let anything get me down tonight!"

As fate would have it, Brad himself had a date- someone he could walk, talk, and hold hands with. And for once, he didn't have to pay the girl for it first. Ironic, considering the girl was Teresa, a young lady an old friend of Brad's had paid for a relationship… though, unlike this date, that one had been mainly for the sake of rousing envy in another girl. But this date was genuine- tomorrow afternoon, he'd finally be able to use those smooth, irresistible moves of his!

Curiously, this attempt at self-reassurance made Brad feel even worse.

The red-head decided to try to think of something else, since any thoughts regarding affection seemed to be depressing him. He then remembered the piece of paper he'd been drawing on. Though his lazily slouching arm told him not to do it, his curiosity about what his hand had made proved a far more powerful calling.

Upon bringing the paper up to his face, Brad only saw a series of random, unorganized lines. No surprise, really- it was, after all, a doodle he hadn't even seen the making of. Yet, upon thinking about throwing it away as he passed a trash can, he felt his gut turning.

'Ah, great,' he thought as he rolled his eyes, 'another downfall for the collection.'

Brad put the paper in his backpack, and shrugged. It was, after all, a harmless little doodle; holding onto it until the idea of throwing it away felt less strenuous wouldn't really hurt anyone.

After a few minutes of slow walking, Brad felt a slight tickling feeling on the back of his neck. Then another- and another.

'Dear God, please, no… I'm not even halfway home yet!' Brad prayed silently. But this was in vain- in just three seconds, rain was coming down like there was no tomorrow.

"Ugh, this can't get any worse, can it?!" Brad exclaimed rhetorically as he took off running into the direction of his house.

When Brad turned right on the next street a few minutes later, he failed to notice a car coming in the lane just next to him- or the nearby puddles of water in its way.

"…And then, he showed me how to actually attach the nerve wire to the shoulder joint!" Tuck explained enthusiastically to his mother, his diminuitive frame almost bouncing up and down in his seat, moving his black hair and the seat itself with him.

"That's very cool, honey," Tuck's mother, one Sarah Carbunkle by name, responded after swallowing her food, "but aren't you going to eat? You haven't even touched your plate yet."

Tuck opened his mouth to speak once more, but the sound of the door creaking open brought the attention and silence of both occupants at the table. They turned around, and sure enough, there was Brad. He was soaking wet, from both the rain and getting splashed by oncoming cars; his red, now-wet hair was matted all over his face, allowing only his mouth and chin to be visible.

There was a moment of silence after the redheaded boy closed the door behind him. Brad himself stood speechless on the Welcome carpet. His little brother and mom simply stared with uncertainty of what to say.

"Err… Hi, Bradley," Sarah finally greeted, breaking the silence.

"Hey, Mom. Hey, Tuck." Brad headed for the stairs mid-response, following up by adding, "I'm going to go dry myself off."

The table was somewhat silent for the first two minutes that Brad sat down, though it felt much longer to all the residents of the table. No matter how up or down Brad felt, he had grown to almost always dislike silence whenever there were friends or family to make conversation with. But, Brad reasoned, what was there to talk about? His day at school was hardly noteworthy; Tuck had probably said all he could about what he'd learned from Sheldon in his last tutoring session; and their mom had had a fairly standard work day, Brad was willing to bet.

"Hey, guys?" Sarah said, getting her sons' attention, "I've got an announcement to make."

Both brothers seemed attentive enough- albeit, not as tuned in as she'd like- so she continued, "Our Company seems to be having a few economic problems in South America…"

Brad's eyes opened up a bit as he lifted a spoonful of mashed potatoes to his mouth. He didn't like where this was going. He had to jinx everything with his thoughts, didn't he?

"…So I'm going on a business trip. I'll be leaving very early tomorrow morning."

Brad slowed down his chewing rate, and Tuck just blinked, speechless for a moment. "How long will you be gone?" the younger brother finally managed to ask.

"If all goes well," Sarah sighed, "I should be back on Monday morning."

As Tuck did some counting on his fingertips, Brad nearly gagged on his food. Was this really happening? Of all the nights for him to end up babysitting his little brother, did it really have to be on the night of his date?

"That's three days!" Tuck exclaimed suddenly, after four seconds of counting.

"I know it seems long, honey, but it'll pass by before you know it."

"You're going to leave me in Brad's hands for three days?"

"Well, actually… no." Sarah used her knife to cut another square of meat. When she'd cut it out, she continued, "I have arranged for you to stay at Sheldon's house during that time. Tomorrow, Sheldon's mom will be driving you to- and picking you up from- school. You alright with that, Tuck?"

Tuck took this in for a moment. Then, his frown practically turned upside-down; the resulting smile then stretched from ear to ear. As the black-haired child started to cackle with excitement, Sarah turned to her older son.

"Bradley," Sarah said, "You're going to take care of the house during that time. Understand?"

Brad, who had now achieved peace enough to swallow the mouthful he'd almost choked on, now took this in. He also realized at this moment that, strictly speaking, he had the house all to himself- without any intervention with his date plan. Whatever trace of that inexplicably depressing feeling had been there now dissipated entirely.

"Having the house all to myself? Sounds great to me!" Brad agreed enthusiastically with a substantial grin on his face.

"Now, it's not going to be as simple as just that," Sarah corrected, "I'll wake you up really early tomorrow and fill you in on basic rules and to-do's. Got it?"

"Alright," Brad agreed. By this time, he'd finished his plate. "I'm going to turn in early, okay?" he called to his mom as he brought his plate to the counter.

"All right, hon. Good night!"

"Good night, Brad!"

Just as he arrived at the top of the staircase leading to his room, Brad heard his mother add, "Oh, and Bradley?"

"Yeah, Mom?"

"Your friend Jenny called and left a message. Check it out, and when you get a chance, give her a call back."

"Will do, Mom. G'night!"

Brad then disappeared into his room, and jumped onto his bed. Before settling in, he recalled the registration paper his English teacher needed. He reached down into his backpack- which he'd set next to the bed earlier- and pulled the form out. He set it on his nightstand, and turned the lights off.

Mom'll sign it tomorrow, he reasoned. And with that, he quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Well, hopefully, this isn't too bad a start, though I understand that it's kind of rushed. Any advice on how to fix that would be appreciated.