Pietro's body traveled down the stairs in five solid whumps and a lot of screaming for the second time that morning. Only this time, Todd wasn't sharing the brunt of it.
Sara glared down at him as his body came to rest upside down against the front door.
"Don't even think of so much as breathing incorrectly around either of us. Are we clear?"
Pietro managed a squeak. He moved his legs to the west, tipping himself out of his crash-landed position and onto his side. Once right-side up, he looked up the stairs. The she-demon was beginning to remind him a lot of Mystique, only Mystique never needed a reason to throw anybody down the stairs - at least not a good one.
It was going to be a very long time before Pietro went back into provocation mode. For now, surrender was the only clear way out of hell. He held up his hands. "Whatever you want, Essel."
"Sara," Todd snapped, coming to stand by her. "You can at least get her name right, yo."
"Sara Essel?" Pietro tried again.
"Sara Louise Adrien," she corrected icily.
"Sorry. Well, anyway..." He brushed himself off, putting on a cool act though his hands were shaking. "You've made it perfectly clear what'll happen if I talk, and I'm impressed with the way you handled yourself. So yeah, I'll keep my mouth shut."
"Yo sure you can, Quickie?"
"Positive," Pietro snapped. "If I want to keep a secret, I'll keep a secret. It's not like everyone wants to know about Ess--" Killer death glares from Todd and Sara made him bite his tongue. "Adrien's weird morning ritual... which by the way I saw by complete accident."
"So ya nose just happened to become glued to the window overnight?"
Pietro stamped his foot. "I wanted to see who was singing, dumbass! Getting an eyeful was the last thing on my mind!"
"You may have seen by accident, but what the hell gave you the right to keep watchin'?" Todd glowered.
The speedster's mouth opened and closed, momentarily lack of wit. "Whatever. I said I wouldn't say nothin', and I won't. If I gotta live with another psychobitch, I'd better play by her rules."
Todd's hackles rose and at precisely the same time his legs gave out from under him. "Awww, this is whack, man," he complained from the floor. Sara gathered him up and escorted him back to the room.
"Please don't try to move until you're better?"
Todd, currently snuggled against her chest, in close proximity to her scent and in prime cuddling position, mumured, "Whatever you say, sugarlips."
"Psychobitch," Sara muttered. "Hmph."
"Aw, don't pay no 'tention to him, yo. I tole yo'. He's an ass."
"Todd, dear, the company you keep has some deplorable habits," Sara said as she nestled him back down into the matress that had served as her bed. "Theft, thuggery, spying..." she tisked. "I can understand theft for survival, dear, but some of Maximoff's antics are above and beyond... It's as if other people exist solely for his own entertainment."
Todd raised his eyebrows as he swallowed some more honey. That was both close to the mark and the bone. "Yo, how'd you figure that?"
"I've worked out who was responsible for the wholesale display of my belongings around the school campus," said Sara. "Theft was possible, but he'd much rather arrange things for maximum mortification. He wasn't out to survive, dear. He was hunting."
Dayumn... "An' I guess you heard stuff about me, too."
"What I hear and what I know are two different things. I hear you'd rip off anyone for a dollar, but I know that you've been through my bag several times, and all my wallets are intact."
"You know that?"
Sara grinned. "I can tell when my belongings have been disturbed. It's routine for me to check my funds. I don't even think of it." She blushed. "Sorry."
"Naw, you were right to," he said. "Time was, I mighta ripped yo' off... but not no mo'." His hands, now that they had nothing to do, drifted towards hers. "I... I like yo'. A lot."
There was a small emotional battle across her face. A small army of tic's controlled her, but only for a moment. "You need something more solid in you than honey," she said. "I've cleared enough things to make some hearty meals..."
"Yo, chicken soup be fine," he smiled. "Honest."
"Then chicken soup you shall have."
Their lips met again, telling the truth of their emotions, deeper than 'like', for certain. There was fear there, too. Fear of screwing things up. Fear of loss. Fear of breaking this one, fragile good thing that was going between them.
"I'll be back," said Sara. She was flushed and smiling.
"I'll be waiting," he panted. He couldn't stop the goofy smile on his face.

Pietro had vanished by the time Sara reached the kitchen. Several foodstuffs had been rummaged through, not unexpectedly. It would have been nice, though, if they'd thanked her for supplying it. Fred had left a note.
Hey Sara,
Lance me went to school. I packed lunches Tabby took sum of the drinks when I wasn't looking. Sorry. Hope you don't mind. I put the good stuff on high shelves.
See you later
Freddy :)
Sara opened the cupboard door and saw that Freddy wasn't kiddin'. Pietro and Tabby would have a hard time reaching anything up there considering that the only chair strong enough to stand on was the heavy armchair in the living room. That armchair was Freddy's and darned near impossible to move.
She was tall enough however, and brought down a can of chicken soup and the bottle of multivitamins. Sara turned on the stove and set to work, feeling an odd sense of irony. She'd always cooked elaborate breakfasts for her mother and had to sneak the gift in, else it would be thrown out. This time she was cooking for someone who wanted it.
And it was naught but chicken soup.
Sara stirred the mixture to smoothness and taste. When it was hot and good, she ladled it into a bowl, turned off the stove and placed the offering on a tray along with a pitcher of water. The salt in the soup would make Todd thirsty and amidst all the excitement, he probably hadn't gotten any water.
She walked upstairs to find him still on the bed with eyes closed. He opened them at the sound of her footsteps. "Missed you, yo."
"As did I." She set the tray down and offered some water, which he took gratefully. Todd downed half the pitcher in eight seconds flat. With a sheepish grin, he set it back down on the tray.
"Yo, you been drinkin' water too, right? Sometimes yo body don't tell you it's thirsty. It just reacts." He was speaking from experience. Magneto had put them through four hours out in the desert of drilling, sparring, and endurance building with small breaks for water in between. Todd had seriously misjudged how much he needed to keep up with the others. After they revived the boy, Magneto had been furious with him for not knowing his limit - regardless of the fact that he had denied the young mutant coldly when he begged for more water.
"I'll keep that in mind," Sara promised. She caught sight of the dry flakes on his upper arm and brushed them off. Todd moved into her touch gratefully.
"Feels good, yo," he whimpered. Her hand moved around to his shoulderblade, elicitting another whimper. There were several patches of dry skin on his back in unreachable places, which made her itch in sympathy. Sara touched the hem of his shirt.
"Er, may I?"
"Sure," Todd said. "Yo don't have to though - it's kinda gro--" Sara's hand lifted away the fabric and her fingernails provided instant relief, peeling away the excess epidermis. Todd turned into a virtual puddle, forgetting he had started a sentence. "Oooohhhh... thank youuuuuu..."

Sara giggled and blushed in spite of herself. Todd was turning into a very happy puddle under her fingers. His expression of bliss was almost - comedic, in its way.
If mother ever heard that I was in a bedchamber with a shirtless male... Mother! Aw crap. She still had to impersonate her mother and call the school.
Sara let go of Todd and dived for her mobile, punching numbers.
"Mwf?" said Todd.
"Shh. I need to be my mother for a minute. Hush, I beg you." Sara sublimated herself and let the character and voice of her mother rise.
"Bayville High, please hold."
Phone tag. Mother sneered and rolled Sara's eyes. The hold music was some static-y radio station playing things designed to give people migranes. She kept the phone a little distant from her ear until she heard, "Bayville High, how can I help you?"
"This is Mrs Adrien," she said in her mother's voice. "My useless daughter's gone and caught some kind of influenza. She won't be in today."
Clicking carried over the line. "Uh... Are you sure your daughter attends this school Mrs Adrians? I can't find any records..."
"Try spelling it A-D-R-I-E-N, dear," said mother sweetly.
"A-D-R..." intoned the secretary. "I-E-N-S."
"No S, sweetie," corrected Mom.
"Oh," Clicketty tap tap... She had to re-enter the spelling. "I have an entry for an Adrien, SL..."
"That's her. Sara Louise. She's ill and won't be in, today."
"Thank you, I have those details down."
"Thank you so much," she almost sang the words, then hung up and became the Dragon. "Stupid illiterate little slattern. Barely worth anything at all. I should write a letter to the education board about the people they hire. My tax money goes to--"
Away, thought Sara. This is still my body and you don't own it yet. Sara flickered to the surface. "Sorry you had to see that, dear."
"...whoah..." squeaked Todd.