A.N: hey guys…happy holidays and all that rot, I have a quickie announcement. I'm going on holiday for about a week, and then a week after that (or so) for about three days (to my gran's). so… to sate your thirst *cough hack* for Pandora, I give to you a completely irrelevant chapter to be called "intermission." And if you're wondering what my spare time consists of, it's writing and perfecting plot outlines from everything from Matrix fanfiction to original shit. So, I haven't abandoned this, I'm still fudging with the finer points. So, with those reassurances, I give to you the last chapter of Pandora the Brave for the year of 2003 and a promise to post a fresh plot-mover in January. Jaa ne, and happy new year! *toots horn*

D/C: if the matrix belonged to me, then you would know about it.

Kit: so have i. must. restrain. fist. of. death. GRAH TWO IS MINE! *yanks on Two's arm* and you don't remember why pan can stick to the ceiling because I haven't told you yet :P neyeah. I love that movie *sigh* tom cruise was my childhood idol.

Alison: thanks so much! I've been so bogged with stress lately that the funniness is fading, but this and the next chapter I've got outlined should prove more entertaining than these last few have been. Thanks again!

Ms. Protectress: sorry dollface, but you're just gonna have to sit tight for a bit with those cards. All I've got on them right now is string, doilies, red paper, and glitter. Glad you like!

CCC: we're all addicted. It's like a drug. And the bad mental images are gonna get worse, sweetheart, cos I have this great part with the mero actually dressed as hades! Muahahaha! And fake pocky is the hello kitty stuff. And rip-off pocky is chocolate covered pretzel stix. XD

Psychotic Fortune Cookie: look, kid, if you're going to review, please, tell me something useful. And little bits of advice you found inside a stale pastry aren't useful. I mean, knock, knock. Reviews are positive or negative feedback, not a chance to show off your specialness. Feel free to tell me that so-and-so is screwed up or that the plot's too confusing, but don't give me some b.s. about hope and faith. I'm in a Catholic school for gods's sake, and I get a bloody nough of that every freakin day. So either leave a decent review or bugger off. Twit. /rant

Cue lights…

~Intermezzo~
a mini-fic by yours truly

It begins with a twinge, a small pang. It pulses intermittently for about an hour before it becomes a full-fledged, throbbing sore. It then spreads to cover a whole half of one's face, sending it into a piercing whirl of pain and misery. It is….

A Migraine.

With the birds chirping in the trees and the sun filtering through the red and gold leaves still clinging to their branches, the cold morning began as any other. One rose with the sun, threw on a blue satin bathrobe, and moved into his bathroom to prepare for the day. Thirty minutes later, the screeching of an alarm pierced through the rock music in Two's bedroom, forcing him to accept the inevitability of waking up. By his own damn brother's recommendation, Two had moved his alarm clock across the room, to force him to get out of bed to shut it off, and now he sincerely regretted it. Of course, he was far too lazy to actually move it back to his bedside table. After a half hour of snooze button abuse, Two finally rolled out of bed and shuffled into his bathroom to begin his daily rituals.

Meanwhile in One's quarters, our beloved assassin was nearly finished dressing himself, shaved and clean. He stood in front of a mirror, adjusting his tie and straightening his vest; he was always one for perfect attire. After all, when you're going to kill someone, it costs nothing to be polite.

As One stepped from his room to attend to a small breakfast, he shut off the lights and closed the door, leaving untouched a small silver pill box containing the day's Claritin. He moved down the hall and pounded on his brother's door, three times. For a response, the music was shut off, a door shut, and Two emerged, looking like a half-dead college student, up late from exams. As he closed his bedroom door, Two slapped the light off, and began to walk down the hall.

"Ahem."

Two sighed. Shouldn't his brother be happy? At least he was dressed this time. He phased anyways and reappeared, as fresh as if he had put as much care into his appearance as One. They set off together down the hall.

At the table, One ate a small meal of toast and jam, but Two did nothing and only poked at his egg.

"Aren't we going to eat?" One asked.

Two grunted, put a spoonful into his mouth, and swallowed. He then stood up and left the room. When One slid into the car beside him, he began to lecture. "You can't just keep skipping breakfast," he started, and continued to ramble as they set off to complete the day's tasks: two hits and a transaction. And about bloody time, thought Two.

Near lunchtime, Two had livened up. The zombie-like aura his presence had radiated was replaced with his usual demonic air, and he looked none the worse for the wear. But heaven forbid he not drink anything, as dehydration was a crime. Between hits, he endured yet another lecture from his elder brother, this time about water. Two mentally sighed and began playing with his razor—and cut his hand. He fixed it easily enough, and the day went on.

At about two o'clock, they felt it: a twinge on their cheek, under their eye. One blamed it on Two's carelessness; he had gotten a scratch there when they killed the last guy. By three, however, they both knew the truth.

They had a headache.

To which they responded with the cold shoulder, ignoring the pain because it would eventually go away, but when four o'clock rolled around, the sore had escalated into a full-out throb. It pulsed in time to their heart, as the blood that was supposed to move to their brain was instead hindered by a constricted vessel. After ten minutes of endurance, Two pulled a bottle of Dasani from under his seat, and from it he took a long drink. But there was no help to be had; the headache remained.

When they finally returned to the château, One declared, "This is our fault."

"Oh like hell it is," retorted Two. "We bet our sunglasses that we didn't take our sodding medicine."

One growled as they pulled into the garage.

~Epilogue~

They were greeted by a shriek and a white blur, Pandora. They ghosted as she tried to embrace them, but they had good reason. The high-pitched frequency of the whining and yelling that just drilled itself right into their already bruised and throbbing brains was less than appealing. Retreating to their rooms, they argued mentally, glaring and hissing at each other the whole way. Pandora followed them from a distance and was surprised to witness a strange sort of fight ending in mutual glares and slamming doors. She could only imagine what they were doing behind those closed doors. Perhaps they remained on their beds, berating each other or whatever it was that they always did.

~MnI~

and for all you curious people, this was written over two hours from 11:36 to 12:39 pm instead of completing a bleeding geometry assignment. So if it makes no sense or is awkward in places, you know why. i'm gonna run it through my beta in the morning and post it, but come on, y'all, she's in just as poor a mental state as I am. Have a safe holiday! And please review ^^ happy Christmas/Chanukah/Kwanza/Winter Solstice? (is that even close?)/other holiday/New Year!