AN: Written because Towa and George (and Crow, and Stefan+Dorothee) are fun, and hey; I still managed to keep it under my personal 1000 word threshold for Snapshot territory! Now, back to my rarepair contribution and more bookworm stuff (though technically the latter counts as part of the former :P)

Soften Them Up

"Hey there, Towa."

The tiny brunette looked from her stack of paperwork, flashing a smile at the husky boy entering the Student Council room. "Hi yourself, George! W-Wait, what's all this?" she asked, eyes widening in surprise when he set down a paper bag and a still steaming mug of tea in front of Towa.

"Well," he began, chuckling warmly when he saw Towa peek into the bag and her eyes lit up at the selection of pastries from downstairs, "I got word from some anonymous tipsters that you were working yourself to the bone. Again."

(Not the most graceful way to go about things, but it'd work).

"Anonymous tipsters, hmm?" she repeated, shaking her head in fond exasperation even as she blushed. "I see. I don't suppose you'd have any idea who they might be?"

"'Course."

"Oh, good. Would you like to share?"

"No can do, otherwise they'd stop being anonymous. They do have a point, though."

She frowned at that, though the effect was somewhat lessened by her biting into an oversized cream puff. "They do not."

George raised an eyebrow and pointedly kept it raised, somehow holding in a snicker when she hastily wiped a bit of powdered sugar off her nose to keep from sneezing.

"… Okay," Towa finally conceded, letting her shoulders droop as she reached for her tea. "I can admit that it's been a little crazy lately. But it's nothing I can't handle, really!"

His eyebrow didn't drop a rige. "If you say so, but I'm pretty sure it's not normal for a first year to be taking on this much stuff."

Towa squirmed uncomfortably, a sign that his assessment was bang on. "M-Maybe not, but…"

"Look," he sighed, raising a hand to forestall any protest. "I know you're volunteering for all this and the council isn't taking advantage of you or anything, but there is such a thing as burning yourself out, especially considering what we've got coming up. Trust me, I've been there; caffeine hangover is no joke."

She smiled, knowing full well that George wasn't exaggerating. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for the concern, and please tell your… uh, mysterious informants that I'll be all right. If I get tired or worn out, I promise I'll drop everything and get some rest, okay?"

He nodded, his serious expression lightening considerably. "Okay. We'll hold you to that, Towa."

"I wouldn't expect anything less!" she said with a laugh, reaching out to grab her pen and resume where she left off, and it took her a solid half-minute of scribbling before she realized that George hadn't moved a muscle.

"George? Was there something else?" she asked, watching as he coughed and turned his head to the side, looking for all the world like he was trying to avoid her gaze.

"Uh… yeah, actually." Gingerly reaching into the side pocket of his overalls, he retrieved a small piece of folded paper and set it down in front of her, immediately retreating toward the door afterward. "I also came here to drop that off, courtesy of Angie and Crow."

"Wait, really?" she asked, looking intrigued when she reached out to unfold the sheet. "They didn't mention anything when I saw them earlier. I wonder what in the world is – "

"So!" George said, his voice as chipper and bright as he could possibly make it and swallowing hard as he continued to shuffle toward the exit, the paper dropping from Towa's apparently nerveless fingers. "Uh… I hope the treats taste great! What do you think of your concert outfit, by the way?"

"It's very vexing that you're so good at this game when you claim to hardly even play," Stefan groused, flicking a glance at an infuriatingly unruffled Crow. "Why didn't you join this club again?"

He shrugged. "I had reasons. Not enough fringe benefits, for one."

Stefan rolled his eyes. "I don't even know what that means, but I should have known better than to ask. That said, I'll admit that it's good to play someone different once in a while, though I'm still confused as to what made you stop by today."

Crow snickered. "Killing time, my four eyed friend. George is dropping off a delivery and I'm kinda waiting to see how it'll turn out."

His hand hovered above a bishop. "How it'll turn out? What exactly do you mean by that?"

A second later, his ears were filled with an obscenely high pitched scream that he swore rattled the windows, and right after that the Chess Club door was flung open by a George Nome that looked like he had seen far better days.

"W-What the – ?!"

"Hey, Stefan. Crow?"

"Yeah?"

"Run."

"… Huh. I guess this means the goodies didn't – "

"Run."

"Well, hope that answers your question. Thanks for the game!" and Stefan could only watch with mouth agape and ears ringing as his opponent hastily tipped over his king and followed his husky friend out the door, both boys sprinting toward the stairs like the hounds of Gehenna were at their heels. Across from his clubroom, he could Dorothee staring blankly back at him, her finger pointing toward the departing pair.

"Crow?" he mouthed, shrugging helplessly.

"Crow," she mouthed back with a shrug of her own, having had enough experience with her fellow Class V'er to decide that yes; it made perfect sense.