Disclaimer: Bootstraps' boot straps! Yeah, I still own nothing.
Note: Sorry the chapters are short but since I'm attempting to post a chapter a day I think it's a fair trade off. This one's a bit longer since I just couldn't resist a few extra giggles.
Wanda awoke the next morning to the sound of chirping birds. Birds? She wondered. Didn't they all fly south for the winter? Looking across the room it seemed as though the gift-giver had struck again. Four multi-colored parakeets sat inside a cage. Never being allowed a bet at home (nor in the asylum, which she didn't recall) so she rushed over to examine them as well as the note, which proclaimed them to be "calling birds". Fred's out done himself, she thought, brain thoroughly rewired with him at the top of her list of suspects. She quickly changed before taking the birds downstairs, hoping to receive a reaction from Fred.
She called down the stairs, "Guess what Santa brought me."
"A car," Todd guessed. "The guy seems to be able to give you everything else," he sulked.
"Oh, Toad, you knew you never had a chance," Wanda replied.
"Yeah, but at least I had my delusions. Now I can't even entertain them. The fourth sign of the apocalypse is here," he pointed towards the birdcage.
"Huh?" Fred looked over at him. "How do you figure?"
"Well, the first sign was that she actually let us see her in her pajamas. Two: she has actively started to seek out a Christmas sweet heart that isn't me. Now she's smiling…and she cares for animals!"
"I think they're sweet," she told him. Then, looking at Fred, "I wish I knew who sent them so I could thank them."
"Well, maybe the last gift will be a picture of him," Fred suggested.
"It's the twelve days of Christmas, Fred," Todd scolded, "the song does not end with a picture of the true love. It ends with twelve drummers drumming."
"Oh," Fred mused, " that could be loud."
"So," Wanda began, taking a seat next to the large mutant, using his shoulder as an armrest, "What do you think I should name them?"
"The birds?"
"Yes, the birds."
"I don't know, Wanda. I'm not any good at that kind of stuff."
"I'm sure you are," she pressed, running a hand through his Mohawk. "Your hair is just so soft; what shampoo do you use?"
"When did she start talking about shampoo," Todd asked.
"When I noticed how shiny and vibrant his hair is and felt the urge to see how soft it is."
"It's, uh, Vidal Sassoon, I think," Fred muttered.
"I use Herbal Essence for oily hair," Todd boasted. He then promptly jumped upon the table and began to sing, "I've got the urge –natural botanicals- I've got the urge for Herbal."
"Toad! Get off that table and never sing that song again," Wanda shuddered, "It's creepy."
"What's creepy is you coming on to Fred," Todd shot back.
Fred looked confused. "You're coming on to me?"
Wanda glared at Toad, "I most certainly am not!"
"Oh, Fred," Todd mimicked, " Your hair is so silky, it's beautiful. And you must be working out because your bicep is huge."
"Leave his biceps out of this!"
"Do I really look buffer?"
"Stay out of this, Fred," Wanda commanded. "Toad, you'd better get your scrawny toad tush out of here before I hex the rest of it off!"
"Well at least I wouldn't have to worry about you kissing it then," he spat.
"God must hate me," Wanda cried out before storming up to her room.
Fred shot Todd a questioning look. "Do you think Wanda likes me?"
"Don't count on it, Fred."
"I knew it seemed too good to be true."