Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.

He spends the whole day in the house. It is the longest time he spends in his house in a long time and if he doesn't get out soon, he is going to kill someone! They are driving him to homicide! He also is sure that if he receives anymore cuffs upside the head from his father he will have a concussion! Yet, once more, he marvels at his old man's ability to turn it off and on the instant Ms. Mathews is within suspected ear shot.

By the time all the boxes were brought inside, courtesy of Two-Bit's sister, she was, needless to say, ticked off. The house looked smaller with all the boxes piled up and the house was already small. There was no way they had enough room for three more people. Though, he supposed Two-Bit and his sister could be stuffed in the spare room.

That hopeful thought immediately disappeared when Two-Bit walked into the room with a box. His siter poked her head in and horror washed over him as she inspected the room. Were they putting her in his room, too? "You're less of a pig than Two-Bit." There was amusement in her tone and her eyes sparkled with an odd sense of justice for making her carry all the boxes. "Good luck. You'll need it." She laughed and headed toward the spare room.

Two-Bit's idea of unpacking was to dump all the contents from his boxes on the floor. He was worse than Sodapop! Steve's room before was not pristine, but at least it had some sense of organization. That's to say he could at least find whatever he was looking for. Two-Bit took messy to a whole other dimension. It looked like a twister ran through there.

On top of this new mess, which Steve protested, the room was already too small, even when it was Steve's alone, and that's the way it remained in Steve's mind. His. "This ain't a dumping ground for your shit, Two-Bit!"

"I'm unpacking!" Two-Bit argued back.

After a few more times of snapping back and forth and Two-Bit's wisecracks irritating Steve more, the two were struck by a revelation. Simultaneously, they shut up and looked at each other. Then they turned toward the single bed.

"Dibs!"

"It's mine!"

They launched themselves onto the mattress and immediately started wrestling, rolling off the bed and around the floor, shouting and bumping into the other pieces of furniture.

"I called it first!"

"I was here first!"

"On the planet?"

"In my room, idiot!"

"I'm older!"

"I'm smarter!"

"I'm stronger!"

"No, you ain't!"

"I am and tougher, too!"

Steve's dad came tearing into the room and tore the two apart, shaking Steve. It was as far as he dared go in the presence of his new love. He whispered for only Steve to hear, though Two-Bit seemed to catch it. "Knock it off before I knock your head off!" Meanwhile, Ms. Mathews had her hand on her hip, lecturing Two-Bit. She told them there was no reason they couldn't work it out without killing each other. Talk it out and come to an agreement. Both snorted at that.

The agreement they silently came to was whoever came out alive would get the bed. The loser would get the floor, eight feet under the floor that is.

But now, Steve sees his opportunity. Screw it, he thinks. They're safer with his father than they will be if he spends one more minute in the house. His father is nowhere in sight and neither is Ms. Mathews. A mouth watering aroma fills the air. His house hasn't smelled like that in ages and he feels a pang of distant memories. His stomach begs him to stay, but the preservation of his sanity wins out and besides, the Curtis house has cake.

It is a clean get away and his hand is on the door. He is inches from freedom when he feels a hand slam hard on his shoulder and yank him back. Softness and gentleness are not words in his old man's vocabulary. He slams Steve into the wall so fast and so hard his teeth chatter and the wind knocks out of him. "You ain't goin' nowhere!" The low growl is emphasized by the finger in his face.

A floor board squeaks and both turn their heads. Two-Bit's sister freezes like a deer in headlights. Her eyes keep shifting toward Steve. Gritting his teeth, his father reluctantly releases him. "Stay!" His old man commands.

Before he can even shake himself out of the oddity of the whole thing, Ms. Mathews calls out, "Dinner!" And Two-Bit is a flash of blurring color as he shoots by, licking his chops and greedily rubbing his hands together. Steve's teeth clench, though. He cannot remember the last time he and his father had a family meal. But one thing is for certain, he does not like the image of Ms. Mathews cooking in his mother's kitchen.

Two-Bit's sister hasn't taken her eyes off Steve and he doesn't like it. Her eyes are sagely, but she keeps a straight face and it's impossible to tell what's she thinking. He can tell she has something she wants to say, but keeps her mouth shut. Ponyboy can learn a thing or two from her, he thinks, but her silence is just as irritating as the kid's smart-ass remarks.

She heads to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder, "I'd hurry up if I were you. Reach or starve, Mathews family policy, and Two-Bit will take all the good stuff."

He's used to starving and at this point he would take Sodapop's colorful creations over being confined to a family meal. As the girl disappears into the kitchen, Ms. Mathews pops her head out of the doorway with concern. "Steve, your foods getting cold. Are you coming?"

Inching his way to the door, he tries to think up a lie. Before he gets the chance, his father manhandles him into the kitchen and into a seat. "If he knows what's good for him, he will!" Ms. Mathews doesn't seem to hear or notice any of it. She's too busy serving herself peas.

With a grumbling stomach and such appetizing food Steve gives into hunger, following the ol' Mathews' family motto, much to his father's disapproval, not that Steve cares or that his old man is any better. But he hates peas. Always has. It is the one thing on the table he refuses to touch. "You'll eat them!" His father shoves the bowl back to his son. Ms. Mathews went to the trouble of cooking a nice meal and by golly his son was going to eat every morsel of it, so help him!

"No!" Steve pushes the bowl back. "I ain't!" Again, he is reminded of his childhood.

To stop the fight, Ms. Mathews passes the bowl on. "It's alright, dear." Steve, Two-Bit, and his sister cringe at this term of endearment. "If Steve doesn't want peas, that's fine. I'm not offended."

Despite Ms. Mathews best effort, they continue to argue. The words 'Make me' are forming on Steve's mouth when a pea hits him square in the nose. Everyone looks over to Two-Bit, whose grinning like a Cheshire cat as he loads another pea on his spoon to launch. "Remind you too much of your brain?"

Steve flicks the pea back in his general direction. "No. They remind me of yours!"

"Naw." Two-Bit's sister grins, rivaling her brother's. "Your brains are much smaller."

Both are about to respond, but Two-Bit's hand slips and he loses his hold on the spoon. The pea sails through the air and creams Mr. Randle in the eye. Steve, Two-Bit and his sister bust up laughing and Ms. Mathews has to bite back laughter of her own. "Whoops."

Mr. Randle slams the palms of his hands against the table and rises from his seat at such speed his chair topples over. All amusement dies down, except Steve who is suddenly really glad he didn't miss this meal. Steve's father looks menacingly at all of them.

Then he catches the eye of Ms. Mathews and remembers himself. He picks up the chair, sits back down and shoots a nasty glare at Steve. "Shut the fuck up!" His father grumbles under his breath, again only for his son to hear. Another glare is shot in Two-Bit's direction and it is this that sobers Steve up quickly.

Two-Bit gulps, noticing the protective stares of not only Steve, but his sister, too. Again, Ms. Mathews seems oblivious as she cuts her meat. She looks up and Mr. Randle's face lightens.

Steve reaches for the basket of rolls, but his old man slaps his hand away and gives him a pointed look, while grabbing one for himself. It takes a second for Steve to figure it out and he rolls his eyes. He supposes his father is trying to impress Ms. Mathews, appearing more mannerly. What crap! Hell, she lives with Two-Bit! "Hey... er... Two-Bit's sister..."

It was her turn to roll her eyes. "Two-Bit's sister has a name, Steve. It's Debbie."

"Fine." He's very annoyed by all of this. "Debbie, pass the rolls." She hands over the basket, but Two-Bit reaches for it, too. One roll is left. Their eyes narrow at each other and both dive for it at the same time.

Two-Bit tugs it toward him. "It's my ma's cooking!"

"It's my kitchen she cooked it in!" Steve tugs it his way.

Thus starts another shouting match in an attempt to claim ownership and a tug-of-war.

"Boys, boys!" Ms. Mathews pleads, exasperated at the constant bickering.

Mr. Randle bangs his fist on the table, making Ms. Mathews and Debbie jump, but it didn't faze Steve or Two-Bit in the least. "Enough!" He bellows. "Knock it off, now! And it's my kitchen." He supplies another glare for Steve.

"I have an easy solution!" Debbie announces and snatches the roll away for herself.

"Hey!" They protest, but before either can attempt to claim it back, she promptly stuffs it in her mouth with a grin. Once more Steve notes a vengeful sparkle in the girl's eye. He isn't sure if this is about the boxes still, or if it has to do with not knowing her name.