It had been a while, at least two months since Darien had played a joke on Hobbes. And since he hadn't promised to stop, he still could. It was high time for one. And tomorrow was the perfect day for one.

He wasn't sure what to do, but it wouldn't involve other people like that joke with Nicole. Darien had to admit, that was kind of mean.

So, what could he do? He sat down and pondered this.

If he had been a cartoon, a light bulb would have gone on over his head. He snapped his finger and went to write down what he would need to have…

"Where's Fawkes?" Hobbes turned to look at the Keeper for an answer.

"I don't know," she answered absently.

"Well, I'm going to go see if he's home." Hobbes was out the door, when he called back to Claire, "Oh, and if the fat man wants me, tell him to…" The rest of his words were drowned out by Claire's laughter.

Hobbes walked down the street whistling. He was in a good mood, even if it was extremely cold out. And even the fact that Fawkes didn't show up today, leaving hi to take the heat from the fat man, even that didn't shake his good mood. Let Fawkes try to make him angry! It wasn't going to work. Not today.

He stopped walking as a black cat walked in front of him. Good thing he wasn't superstitious. If he was, the sight of that cat would reduce him to a pile of human jelly. Hobbes laughed aloud. The things people believe!

A little ways down, another black cat walked in front of him. This one just sat there right in front of Hobbes.

He stopped whistling and frowned. Now, he wasn't superstitious, but two in a row? That had to be a sign or something.

Hobbes stopped thinking like that, and gave himself a mental slap. He was being an idiot, these superstitions were just crap.

Whistling again, he walked some more, looking at the sky and shivering as the wind hit him.

He stumbled over something and looked down. Fawkes' catch phrase was the first thing out of Hobbes' mouth: "Aw crap!"

It was another one. Black cat, that is.

He took a step back and the cat looked demurely up at him, its yellow eyes gleaming.

Hobbes closed his eyes. "I'm not superstitious, not superstitious, not superstitious," he chanted.

Let's see, what was today? Hm…tomorrow was Saturday-thank God-so that would make today Friday. Friday the…13th. To quote Fawkes again, "Aw crap."

Okay, so maybe he was superstitious.

He kept walking, around the other black cats that "crossed his path". He counted them all, and by the time he reached a busy sidewalk, 13 had passed him. 13…this was not his day.

He walked down the busy sidewalk, noticing a ladder in front of him. He veered away from it, only to be pushed underneath it. Hobbes stumbled under the ladder and caught himself on the other side.

He had just gotten himself more bad luck. Walking under a ladder gave you, what, seven more years of bad luck?

Bobby looked around for the person who had pushed him, but there were too many people to tell. The rest of the way to Fawkes' house was okay. The Fates must have decided that was enough bad luck for now.

Hobbes stepped on to Fawkes' doorstep to knock on the door, when he heard something crunch under his feet. He looked down to be greeted by a newly broken mirror.

There went another 13 years of bad luck. At the rate he was going he'd have bad luck even after he died.

He looked up, and saw Fawkes' lights flicker on, then off. On then, off again. They did this 13 times, then went off and stayed off.

"What is this, a conspiracy?" he yelled.

The lock on Fawkes' door sprung open. Bobby opened the door, and poked his head inside. No one was there. Either that or Fawkes was invisible.

"Fawkes? This is not funny…the whole light show and everything."

He came into the kitchen, where on the floor he found a face-up Darien Fawkes, who was apparently dead, asleep or unconscious. Hobbes took choice D: Darien was trying to freak him out.

Bobby leaned down to touch Fawkes' shoulder, and make sure he wasn't clowning around.

Fawkes sat up at his touch. "Whaaaaasssuuup!"

Hobbes, surprised, stumbled back.

"What are you doing, Fawkes? Did you do the whole black cat thing?"

Fawkes nodded, obviously proud of himself.

"I thought we promised no more pranks."

Fawkes laughed. "Had my fingers crossed."

Hobbes threw his hands up. "Of all the stupid, childish things…you crossed your fingers?!?"

Fawkes nodded. "But this time I mean it. I really do. I will not play anymore tricks on you."

Hobbes looked suspicious. "Show me your other hand and tell me again."

Fawkes obediently held out his other hand and repented his promise.

"All right. That's good enough for me." Bobby said grudgingly.

Fawkes grinned. It sure was fun while it lasted…but pranks weren't worth a partner.