Lance was starting to come around. Freddy could tell things were going to become geologically unstable when he recovered. His face had gone from vacant to vacantly pissed off. Lance was mad, but at the moment, not quite sure he knew who to be mad at. Either way he was dangerous.
Freddy decided to head him off. "Hey, Lance? You feelin' any better?"
"Rrrgh... tell me again who took the sledgehammer to my skull. Then hold them still while I rip them in half."
Fred blanched. "Even if they thought you was attackin' their friend when it was really Pietro's fault?"
Lance gritted his teeth and readjusted the icepack on his forehead. "I'll kick his ass too then."
"C'mon, Lance, don't blame Sara. She was jus'--"
"Yah, I know, okay? Doesn't mean I ain't pissed. Make the headache go away and I'll think about letting this slide." Lance winced at the volume of his own voice. "Ugh."
"Here," Sara tossed Freddy an economy sized bottle of Advil. Then she glared at Lance. "You ever touch Todd or any student at school for money, personal kicks, or otherwise again, you'll be needing a truckload."
"Whatever," Lance moaned pitifully and held his hand out to Fred for Advil.
Sara led Steve to the kitchen with the last of the boxes.
"Wow. Never thought I'd see food growing out of the wallpaper."
"The members of this household definitely have MAIDS. In the most advanced stages."(1)
"MAIDS?"
"Male Acquired Incapability Disorder Syndrome. Read about it on someone's rant page."
"Ah. No female around to pick up after them." Steve dove into one of the boxes and started putting them in the refridgerator. Opening the fridge may have been a mistake. Steve stared, one jar of mayonnaise in his hand. "I have never seen so many hues of mold in all my life."
"I didn't order any perishables, so they all can sit safely in the cupboards for now," Sara said, rummaging around in search of something. "Aha!" She produced the honey and slipped it into the pocket of her sweatpants.
"I need to go upstairs and see a patient." She handed Steve the cash due plus a nice tip.
Tabby, who'd come up to watch in the doorway, stared. She was ignored by both.
Steve was trying to hand back the tip. "You might need this for something later."
Sara waved his hand away. "No, you've been a big help. And your mom always needs stuff for the cats."
"I don't like leaving you with mullet-head, especially after his threats."
"Fred and Todd are on my side, and Pietro would sooner shave his head and dip it in lye than touch me. I'm relatively safe. Alvers isn't a threat to worry about. Go on now, shoo. I'm fine."
Steve left only after making sure she had his cell phone number and having extracted a promise that she'd call at the slightest wrong look. She waved from the porch and walked inside to find Lance looking decidedly more aware of his surroundings. "Hey," he started. "I wasn't going to hurt Todd. He passed out because he pushed himself too hard. It was Pietro's fault."
"Relax," Sara said dryly, heading up the stairs. "I no longer have the shovel. You're safe until next time."
"...God dammit." If it was one thing Lance hated, it was being held responsible for something he actually didn't do.

(1) MAIDS is from InterNutter's rant page. Had to, it was too tempting. You can find it here: www(dot)internutter(dot)org(slash)index(dot)php?arearandom

Sara waited until the van's tires screeched at the corner, indicating that Steve was on his way back to the store, before she shed so much as one scrap of her guise.
Gah, it was hot in that get-up.
And getting out of it was skin-snaggingly uncomfortable.
Todd barely opened her eyes when she jostled his head onto her lap. No matter. He was bound to recover. She dipped a plastic spoon into the honey and drizzled most of it off before offering it to him.
"Just suck on the spoon, dear," she instructed. "It should help you feel a little better."
"Wh't happ'n'd?" he croaked.
"You were unconscious," said Sara. "My best guess is that your reserves were completely depleted fending off that thug Alvers."
"Whoah. Wait. Lance?"
"He does have a prediliction towards preying on those younger and weaker than him - no offense."
"Yo, he was pryin' me off'a Pie-pie, hon," said Todd. He pulled the spoon out of his mouth and gave it to her. "Pie's the scuzzo."
Sara considered the honey. The jar was one of those little itty bitty samplers favoured by single people living alone. No doubt that Todd would consume all of it before he was well enough to move under his own steam. Sara re-used the spoon for the next dose. "How so? I know the boy's some kind of pickpocket-slash-pervert, but--"
"Yeah, an' he's also a peepin' tom," growled Todd.
The hot hordes of embaressment flooded over her face, ears and some of her chest. One of her most secret of nightmares had come true. Someone had seen her early-morning ritual. Mother was going to know.
Mother was going to go spare.
Todd's voice was a distant, vague hum to her ears. All she could hear was her world tumbling into ruins around her.
Mother would send her off to some kind of obscure convent school for sex-crazed Bad Girls who would try to convert her to bisexuality for their own entertainment.
Certainly not Sara's entertainment.
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

"Yeah, an' he's also a peepin' tom," Todd growled. "Scuzzbucket just thinks he can zip in an' out an' not pay any consequences, he got another think comin', yo. He ain't gonna treat YOU like no free show an' get away wit' it, I'm'a see to that m'self." Honey cleaned off the spoon, he tried to give it back to Sara.
Sara, however, had vanished into some kind of funk. The parts of her skin that were still pinkish were -well- pinker than normal. The scales - her new, beautiful scales - were darker than her normal pale tone.
Poor girl. She was mortified into a statue. Todd gently helped himself. "It's gonna be okay, I swear. I ain't gonna let nothin' hurt yo' if I can help it, yanno? I'm'a have a li'l chat wit' the guys, yo. An' lemme tell ya, nobody wants a fresh case o' revenga ala Toad, yo. I gotta be home today. They don't want me leavin' 'em little unwelcome gifts if yo' get mah drift." He grinned around his spoonful of honey.
Sara looked even more upset and embarressed than ever before.
"Sara? Hon?"
Her eyes shed a tear. "Mother's going to know."
"What, that some dude barged in on you inna shower?"
Sara's head - twitched... something like watching a bobble-head doll in a car going over a speed-bump. "I have something of a secret vice," she confessed, her voice a whisper. "I love the feel of the dawn's first sunshine on my skin. All of my skin..."
A sudden vision of Sara - tall, proud and beautiful in her new scales, soaking in the first rays of a new day - paraded across Todd's mind. Man, if I were some Manga dude, I'd have a nosebleed... He deliberately stopped himself from asking any naughty questions. Or anything related to a naughty question. This was Sara's most secret ritual, something that gave her something to wake up for. The thing that got her out of bed every morning, to begin yet another day that would, inevitably, be full of her misery.
Something she kept from everyone.
Except him.
And - by force - Pietro.
"...and now he's headed off to school and he's going to talk," Sara blubbed. "Mother's going to know before the day's out. She's going to find me - like this... Oh Todd... darling, I'm so sorry... It's all going to blow up... It's all my fault..."
Oh fuck. He hugged her. "Shhh... It's gonna be okay, yo. Shhh... We'll think of somethin', I swear."
And there was Lance, sporting a huge lump on his temple. "Awright, Essel,"
"Sara Louise Adrien," quavered Sara. "Doom of mutantkind."
That confused Lance enough to blink. "Okay. You get points for supplying painkillers, so I'm not gonna kill ya just yet... but if you so much as try that again, you'll see a whole new meaning to the words 'rock and roll', got me?"
Todd rolled his eyes. Damnit. "Lance... shut the fuck up, okay? We need a plan."
"Huh?"
"Brief skinny," said Todd. "Pie saw Sara naked. He's gonna talk. Which means her Mom's gonna go nuclear an' hunt her down. And find her."
"Oh fuck," said Lance. "I'm getting in the Jeep now."
"I'd put some pants on, first," said Sara, apparently still in her misery coma. "I think the school board frowns on boxer shorts as much as they do pyjamas."
"Wait. Pie's in his jimmy-jams?" said Todd. "Sara, yo' problem jus' solved itself."
She blinked at him. "I... don't get it."

"You won't BELIEVE what I just saw," said Pietro, accosting the first person he could find.
"Lemme guess," said Evan. "A mouse came outta your closet before you did?"
"What?"
"Cute outfit, Maximoff," said Summers.
"Like, love the new look," giggled Kitty.
"Thefuckyoutalkingab--" he looked down. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Of all the nights he had to wear the AbFab flannies, last night had to be it. He'd completely forgotten.
He was at school and he'd completely forgotten that he was still in his PJ's.
His pink, glitter-painted Absolutely Fabulous flannel jammies.
And the gathering crowd had noticed.
"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

"GODDAMMITDAMMITDAMMITWHYMEEEEEI'MTOOCUTETODIESOCIALLY!" Pietro ranted at the top of his lungs while speeding home. The use of oxygen meant he was slower than usual while getting home. He sped up the stairs, slammed his door and dressed in some normal clothes. If he hurried, he could get back before word spread too far. Nobody would be able to match the story up if he was suddenly in clothes by first period.
Unbeknownst to Pietro, Lance had positioned himself in front of his room and was holding the linen closet door open. Pietro never suspected that there was a second door to go through when he opened the first and sped through it.
WHHHAAAM "FFFFFFUUU--" THUMP
Lance picked the dazed boy up by his shirt and dragged him into Sara's room. Pietro was deposited unceremoniously on the ground in front of Sara and Todd. He shut the door behind him and stood in front of it. Lance was going to watch and if Pietro didn't catch it from Sara, Lance would be more than happy to share the punishment he had unfairly suffered at her hands.
Todd was still in Sara's arms and feeling too woobly to stand, but he turned on the death glare. Pie was still on the ground moaning about his social life and aching nose. They waited until he became aware of his surroundings.
Pietro saw Sara come into focus and screamed. He looked around wildly, noticing with horror that Lance was standing guard at the door. Left without another choice, he scrabbled for the only available shelter. The closet. Pietro jammed himself inbetween boxes and managed to close the sliding door only half way before the wheels got stuck.
"Calm down, fool. Yo makin' this harder than it has to be." Todd's voice had a strange calmness to it.
"Stop being such a wuss," Lance agreed. "We need to talk."

Sara stood and brushed herself off. Her heart was calmer than death as she stepped up to Maximoff's hiding place. It was as if every emotion she possessed had gone into hiding in her mental warehouse.
"Mister Maximoff," she said, the crisp tones of Boston invading her voice. "Whilst I normally believe that every being on the planet deserves a second chance... you had worn yours out when you elected to become a quidnunc(1)."
Pietro whimpered in his place.
"Furthermore, you've lead me to believe that our mutual security was at risk thanks to your flapping maw... so..." Sara cracked her knuckles, then her thumbs, then her wrists, elbows, shoulder blades, neck and - with a surprisingly graceful arc of her back - her spine.
Pietro quivered in place and made a bizarre, nonverbal noise of disgust.
She continued, cracking her hips, knees, ankles and toes.
Pietro did a marvellous impression of someone with epilepsy.
Sara bent and picked him up by the neck of his jammies, adding a little twist that cut off his air supply. "Breathe so much as one word about my early-morning activities to another soul and I swear by all that is Holy, I will find a way to make your life synonymous with dwelling in Hades. My vengeance will be long and compound. You will become my new hobby. And I further suspect that Todd will never forgive you, and pursue a similar plan."
Pietro coughed. "...need... tobreathe..." he gasped.
"But since you and your ilk only understand physical violence..." She carried him to the top of the stairs, wound up, baseball style - and then hurled him wholesale down the steps. "Don't even think of so much as breathing incorrectly around either of us. Are we clear?"

(1) It's synonymous with Peeping Tom, according to www(dot)dictionary(dot)com