A/N: Hey guys lol I'm back. Sorry that I took so long to update this, I had part of it done…and then, well…I just kinda sorta forgot to finish it. Um…yeah.

But feel free to smack me because goddamn this is a three-shot now. But that's it! I MEAN IT!

Anyway, enjoy!

Warnings: Language, suggestive content, and the Varia boys being their usual wonderfully sterling selves.

Disclaimer: SushiBomb does not own KHR. Weh Weh Weh.

Riding in cars with Froggies

In the twenty odd years Lussuria had been acquainted with the infamous Prince the Ripper, he couldn't recall one time he had ever seen the younger assassin look anxious about anything, and he had certainly never seen him…

"I can't do it, Luss. I just can't."

…pacing around his bedroom like a man waiting for his wife to give birth. Lussuria was sure that if Belphegor paced any faster, he would undoubtedly wear a path in the carpet of his room.

"Bel, just breathe, dear. It's only nerves, afterall." Lussuria said with a soft, matronly smile. He received a bitter scowl in response.

"Che, easy for you to say," Bel began as he folded his arms across his chest petulantly, "you're not the one who's gonna be cooped up in a car with Fran for three hours."

"But honey, this is your chance to spend some time with him. Remember what we talked about yesterday? Part of the problem is that you don't Fran well enough yet. You need to spend time with him, and get to know him better. The same goes for him. He only knows you as 'the guy who smiles too much and stabs me for no reason'-"

"-I don't stab him for 'no reason'!" Bel interjected. Lussuria frowned.

"…okay maybe sometimes…"

"More like all the time, dear." Lussuria corrected, which earned him a dirty sock in the face. Bel groaned to himself as he flopped facedown onto his bed next to Lussuria.

"It's going to go awful, I just know it. Every time I try to talk to Fran, I always end up making an ass of myself."

"Aww, honey," Lussuria cooed as he rubbed Belphegor's back in an attempt to comfort him, but it seemed more like he was gradually working his way down to cop a feel on the prince's delightfully pert backside, "it'll get easier the more the you do it. Besides, you were doing just fine this morning."

At that, Belphegor raised his head off of one of his pillows to stare (and possibly glare) at Lussuria.

"Are you on drugs or something? Because screaming and running out of the room with a half-erection after Fran asked me to 'butter his muffin' hardly qualifies as 'doing fine'!"

"Well, up until then you were doing alright." Lussuria said glumly.

"But you're kind of missing the point, Luss." Bel said as he laid his head back down. "That's exactly why I can't go with Fran later. Being in the same house is one thing, because at least I can make a quick getaway if I need to. But I'm going to be alone with him. In a car. For at least three hours."

"So?"

"Ugh! Lussuria, come on man!" Belphegor snapped wildly as he shot up from the bed in a huff, quickly resuming his frantic pacing.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'So'? Have you ever sat down and had a conversation with him, Lussuria? Have you? I don't think you have." The prince shrieked, waving his arms around like a madman, "Fran is really fuckin' oblivious. He says shit like that all the time! It never once crosses his mind that maybe what he's saying is kind of suggestive!"

Lussuria chuckled. "Yes I know, Fran can have a rather loose tongue at times, but still. It's good for you that you can't run away as soon as you get nervous."

Belphegor stopped pacing, and turned to stare at the older man sitting on his bed. "Oh, it's not nerves I'm worried about. I'm more concerned that if he says something vaguely suggestive, I'm going to start daydreaming. And you know my daydreams are anything but innocent."

"Yep, that is definitely true."

"Well, what if I get hard or something? Fran will never let me live it down! He already thinks I'm some kind of sick pervert."

Lussuria ran a hand down his face. "To be honest, I don't really have an answer for you, Bel. You just have to keep calm and focus on the mission, and more importantly, focus on getting to know Fran better. You have been given a rare opportunity, afterall. If you're going to be forced to be alone with him, you should try to make the most of it. And if Fran says anything that, eh… sets you off, just think about something else."

Belphegor laid back down, and Lussuria resumed his impromptu back-rub. After a few minutes, the prince wriggled closer, stretching out languidly against Lussuria's pleasantly skilled hands.

"Neither of us is very good at holding conversations, Luss." He said quietly. Lussuria smiled down at the prince.

"Well Bel, that's a skill you are just going to have to improve and polish over time."

Belphegor nodded tiredly, again grabbing his favorite pillow and nestling his head against it. "I guess so." He said, eyes gradually sliding shut as Lussuria's hands slid lower and lower down his back.

"Is this helping?" Lussuria whispered seductively as one hand crept past the prince's belt buckle and onto one of the firm globes. Belphegor made a muffled noise.

"…Am I interrupting something?" A familiarly monotone voice asked from the doorway unexpectedly. Belphegor sprang up from the bed as if he had suddenly realized he was laying on a bed of hot coals, eyes wild under his mop of hair.

"No! It's not what it looks like! My back was hurting!" He screeched frantically, an unfortunately-timed blush creeping onto his face.

Fran gave him a skeptical look. "Was your ass hurting too, sempai? Because Lussu-nee-san was massaging that pretty intently." He quipped sarcastically as he produced the folder that was previously tucked in the crook of his arm, casually flicking to a page inside.

Belphegor whirled on Lussuria with a snarl not unlike a tiger about to strike. "You goddamn pervert! What the hell were you rubbing my butt for?" He screamed.

Lussuria fanned himself giddily. "Oh, Bel darling, you know I couldn't help myself~! Your perky little bum was just calling to me~!Ohoho~!"

Belphegor made a strangled noise. "Y-you-you took advantage of me! I thought you were trying to help me!"

"I was! You were so tense, dear! That massage did you good! You know I didn't mean any harm~!"

"You massaging my ass is not helpful in any goddamn way!"

"Oh, that was just me giving into temptation~!"

"!"

As the two assassins squabbled about Lussuria's questionable intentions, Fran watched the scene with blatant disinterest, a finger casually poking around in one of his nostrils boredly. He was certain that a bug had flown up his nose when he was outside earlier, and it was really starting to bother him.

"You're the one who doesn't know how to talk to people without freaking out and running away!"

"Well, well, - YOU'RE A CREEPY, CORPSE-FUCKING PERVERT!"

Fran plucked his finger from his nose. "Oh…that doesn't look like a bug at all…" He said to himself sullenly before nonchalantly wiping his finger on Belphegor's dresser. "I wonder how long it'll take him to notice that,"He mumbled as an afterthought.

"Hmmph, well at least I don't need see my own blood to get off!"

Belphegor gasped in offense. "Hey, hey! That was one time!"

"I can still feel something in there…man, what a pain in the ass." Fran said with the faintest hint of annoyance in his flat tone as he unceremoniously shoved his finger back in his nose, still watching the two older assassins scream at each other. For such an elite squad, Fran thought, it was really kind of pathetic that the two of them were reduced to name-calling in a matter of minutes.

"PEDOPHILE!"

"LOSER!"

"ORPHAN!"

"BEL, YOU'RE AN ORPHAN TOO, YOU IDIOT!"

Fran watched the two shout names at each other for a few more seconds before sighing. The sound of someone clearing their throat caught the attention of the two bickering hitmen, and they both turned to look at Fran.

"Well, I can see that you two obviously have some personal issues to work out," Fran began as he once again plucked his finger from his nose, inspecting the suspicious-looking 'debris' for a second before flicking it away disinterestedly, "so um, I'll just come back later."

And with that, the mist illusionist casually wandered away, leaving the two assassins gaping. After a few seconds, the initial shock wore off, and Belphegor immediately ran out the door after him. Lussuria sighed in exhaustion as he sat back down on the prince's luxurious bed.

"Well, I hope that worked." He said to himself quietly.

"Fran, wait!" Belphegor shouted as he ran after the illusionist, who was already almost completely down the hall. At the loud, familiar shout behind him, Fran turned around, looking more bored than Belphegor had ever seen him look in his whole life with the Varia.

"Yeah?" Fran asked, voice flat.

"I…I can talk…now…" Belphegor managed to choke out between pants, "what…did…you have to…say?"

Fran regarded the panting hitman curiously for a moment before shrugging and popping open the folder once again. "I just wanted to let you know that the politician we're going to monitor later has a meeting at seven o'clock tonight. We're supposed to see if he votes for or against that new bill. You know, the one that will put known Mafiosos under heavier surveillance?"

Belphegor, who had finally regained his bearings, looked at the shorter man curiously. "That's why we're watching him?"

Fran gave him a deadpanned look. "Clearly, you've read the mission report, fallen prince-sempai."

Belphegor growled, several knives instinctively sliding down his sleeve and into his hand. "Oi, toad…" He said tightly. Fran just stared at him silently.

To his surprise, after a minute or so, the prince sighed in, either resignation or poorly-controlled rage, Fran was unsure, but the knives he was certain were destined to end up in the horrid-looking hat Belphegor always made him wear instead disappeared back up the prince's striped shirt.

"I meant to read it," Belphegor began, voice still oddly terse, "but I got distracted."

Fran blinked. "Um, well I guess it doesn't really matter then. It's not that complicated of an assignment, so it's probably okay that only one of us got around to reading it." He said offhandedly.

"Whatever. When are we leaving?" Bel snapped in response. If Fran noticed the sudden shift in the blonde's mood, he pretended not to notice. The mist guardian pulled his phone from his pocket.

"If we leave here around five, we should make it on time." He said. The prince nodded silently, before abruptly turning on his heel and storming back to his room. "Meet you down in the garage at five." He said over his shoulder before disappearing down the hall.

"What's his deal?" Fran said to himself once he was alone.

At the sound of footsteps coming back down the hall, Lussuria sat up expectantly. Within seconds, a familiar head of blonde hair appeared in the doorway, and Belphegor strode into the room, stone-silent like the gargoyles that stood guard over the old cathedrals in the north.

"Dare I ask?" Lussuria said cautiously. At the sound of the flamboyant man's voice, Belphegor looked up, his mouth set in a grim line of frustration.

"What happened?" The martial artist pressed. Belphegor sat on his bed and abruptly fell backwards, slinging an arm over his face.

"This is gonna be harder than I thought, Lussuria." He said dismally.

"Getting Fran to like you?"

"No. Not stabbing him when he pisses me off. I never realized how much of my stress I relieved by stabbing Fran until now." The prince groaned in dejection.

Lussuria rolled his eyes. Really, Belphegor was such a baby sometimes.

"But at least you're making progress. You didn't stab him. That's quite a leap for you, Bel-honey~!" Lussuria said happily, in an attempt to cheer the gloomy prince up. As expected, the only response he got was a twitch of blonde's lip.

"Come on, Bel!" The martial artist shouted as he shook the younger man by the leg. "You'll find a new person to vent on eventually…or…"

"Or…?"

Lussuria laughed to himself lasciviously."Or better yet, if you play your cards right, you'll have a much more satisfying way of relieving your stress very soon."

Belphegor's arm suddenly slid down from his face, the prince sitting up slowly as Lussuria's words sunk in. After a minute, the prince's infamous Cheshire cat smile stretched across his face, and the equally infamous little laugh crept out from between his teeth.

Lussuria smiled. "That's better. Whenever you get discouraged, just think that it will be worth it in the end. Besides, I'm certain Fran is already curious about your sudden change in attitude. I bet he'll mention it later."

But it appeared that the prince hadn't heard a single word he just said. Belphegor was staring off into to the distance, an unabashedly lewd little grin on his face as he wandered the realm of his personal fantasies. Lussuria wasn't sure if he really wanted to know what kinds of 'stress-relief' the prince was thinking of at that moment.

Belphegor bit his bottom lip, a throaty chuckle escaping him. Lussuria cocked his head to the side curiously.

Well…maybe he was a little curious.

But regardless, Lussuria still waved a hand in front of the prince's face. "Bel? Hello…?"

At that moment, Belphegor snapped out of his clearly less than innocent daydream. "What?" He snapped.

"Did you hear me?"

"No." Belphegor said bluntly. Lussuria sputtered in offense. "We-well you need to listen to me now! Knowing Fran, he is defintely going to be wondering why you didn't stab him! What are you going to tell him, hmm?"

Belphegor frowned. "…Oh…well shit…I don't really know." He said with a shrug. Lussuria smacked his forehead.

"What should I say?" The prince asked suddenly, his voice so unexpectedly earnest that for a moment, Lussuria was sure he was talking to someone else.

"Ahh, well," He began awkwardly, "I think you should just be honest with him."

Belphegor blinked. "…So you want me to tell him that I want to have red-hot monkey sex with him?" The prince asked, voice oddly deadpanned.

Lussuria shrieked at the prince's blunt statement, fanning his heated face rapidly. "Good heavens, Belphegor! NOT THAT HONEST!"

Belphegor scowled as he leaned against the wall next to the door in the garage sometime later, his arms once again folded across his firm chest in mild irritation, which was quickly becoming a familiar state of emotion for the prince.

Once again, Belphegor found himself completely on his own. He was beginning to wonder if Lussuria's advice was really any good at all.

"Just be nice to him, that's all," Belphegor mimicked Lussuria's voice nasally, "Jeez, Lussuria is so useless."

"I guess your butt massage wasn't all that great then, huh?" A voice quipped sarcastically from his left, and if the prince hadn't been so self-aware, he most certainly would've shrieked like a little girl. But as such, he was very self-aware, even while brooding, so instead he only graced the shorter assassin with a prize-worthy frown and a few choice words.

"Where the hell did you come from?" He snapped.

"Upstairs, genius." Fran retorted bluntly. "Now come on, we have to leave."

And with that, Fran walked past the sputtering prince, ignoring the three knives that slid down the older man's arm, only to then quickly disappear right back up his sleeve as the prince attempted to calm himself down. Belphegor took a deep breath and trailed after the illusionist, who was looking for his keys on the key rack. Belphegor quickly snatched a set off of the rack. "We'll take my ferrari." He said.

Fran gave him a blank look before promptly plucking the key out of his hand and putting it back on the rack.

"No way in hell, sempai." He said as he grabbed a random set of keys from the middle of the large board.

Belphegor growled. "What! Why not?"

Fran inspected the set of keys before shaking his head and putting them back on the rack. "No, those aren't the right ones…" He said to himself, completely ignoring the fuming prince next to him.

"Oi!"

At that, Fran's eyes slid casually in his direction. "No offense, sempai, but if you drive, we're going to end up in a ditch on the side of the road somewhere."

The prince sputtered indignantly. "Wha-well- I will have you know that the prince is an excellent driver!"

Fran nodded dismissively. "Mmhmm, and I'm sure you will excellently and spectacularly drive us right into a ditch as soon as we pull out onto the main road."

"No I won't! How fucking rude!"

"How fucking self-preservational is more accurate." Fran retorted as he finally found the keys he was looking for. "I'd let my eighty-eight year old grandmother, who has cataracts in both eyes, drive before I let you drive me anywhere. I don't really feel like dying today."

And with that, the illusionist sauntered off further into the garage, a cranky and hissing Belphegor stomping after him.

"Oh yeah? And what about you? You drive like you have a moral obligation to ignore the speed limit! You drive just as shitty as me!" The prince snapped as the pair walked up to Fran's car and quickly got in.

"Excuse me," Fran reprimanded, "I'm not a shitty driver, I just take calculated risks."

Belphegor promptly kicked open the glove compartment. As expected, a stack of speeding tickets tumbled out around his booted feet. The prince turned back to the younger man.

"Calculated risks, huh?" He said with an arrogant smile.

Fran stared at him silently, his hand, which was poised with the key inches in the ignition, frozen in mid-air. The two sat quietly.

"Touché." Fran said flatly after a minute, and Belphegor's grin widened. "But you're still not driving. Now put your seat-belt on. I don't want to get pulled over for your irresponsibility."

Belphegor looked at the younger man incredulously. "And speeding isn't irresponsible?"

Fran looked at him blankly before turning the car on. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said nonchalantly as he eased the car out of the garage and out onto the path to the main road. Belphegor couldn't help but laugh. Fran's face was so uncharacteristically focused as he drove onto the main road toward the highway, as if driving like a normal person required his utmost concentration.

Belphegor sighed in resignation. "Alright, alright. Speed then. I hate it when people drive five miles under the speed limit."

No sooner had he finished uttering those words when he felt the car immediately begin to move at the speeds Fran was infamous for. But Fran's face looked a bit brighter all of a sudden. It was as close to looking happy as Fran could ever get, Belphegor supposed, and with that comforting knowledge in mind, the prince settled back into the luxurious leather seat and made himself comfortable, chancing a glance over at the stoic mist guardian every so often.

And it was then that Belphegor noticed something odd. He turned his body slightly in Fran's direction.

"Hey Froggy," He began curiously. Fran looked over at him. "What?"

"How come you're not wearing your uniform?"

Instead of their usual Varia ensemble, which Belphegor was wearing, Fran was clad in civilian clothes. A dark blue hoodie and black jeans, with his usual uniform boots. Simple, and yet Belphegor found he couldn't take his eyes off of the younger man.

He dared to admit, in the privacy of his mind, that looking at Fran, sitting quietly in the slightly reclined seat of the sleek BMW that he loved so much, steering the car from one lane to the next with practiced ease with his right hand, his left casually resting in his lap, that the illusionist looked pretty… not just cute but, well, actually kind of …hot.

The younger man had an uncanny sort of elegance about him, despite his sharp-tongue and unfortunate tendency to stick his foot in his mouth. Belphegor sometimes wondered if that graceful aloofness was something characteristic of illusionists in general, because there were times, when Fran wasn't being a snarky little bastard, times like right at that moment,when the green-haired boy seemed eerily like Mammon.

When he was still around, Mammon had a habit of sitting out on his balcony at night, and staring out over the horizon with the most thoughtful look on his face, or at least, the part of his face that was visible. And now in these present days, there were times when Belphegor would stumble across Fran sitting out on the exact same balcony, in the exact same spot, with the same wistful, contemplative expression.

Come to think of it, Belphegor thought, it had been during one of those many times, out on that balcony, that Belphegor had entertained the idea that, maybe, there was a lot more to Fran than just sarcasm and indifference. It was easy to forget that Fran was an illusionist too, and by definition a complex-minded individual. Fran had more layers to him than there were trees in all of Italy, and with each month that passed with the new illusionist as a member of their team and of their household, Belphegor found himself more and more intrigued with him.

He just wondered when that intrigue turned into infatuation.

"Hey, Earth to the fake-prince. Please respond. Fake prince-sempaaaaai…" A familiar voice droned in his ear, effectively snapping the blonde out of his reverie.

"What is it?"

"Well, I was trying to answer your question, until you spaced out for no reason."

Under his bangs, Belphegor blinked rapidly. "…Question…? Oh, Oh yeah!"

Fran looked at him strangely before turning back to the street. "Well, yeah, like I was saying before, this is a surveillance mission, so we don't actually have to get out of the car or anything. I figured it'd be more comfortable to wear regular clothes."

"Hmm," the blonde next to him began idly, "I guess you're right about that, toad." And with that, Belphegor slid out of the thick uniform overcoat and tossed it in the backseat.

"And besides, according to you, I look fat in our uniform, so I decided to wear something more flattering to my obvious over-abundance of flesh."

At that, Belphegor blanched. So much for complex-minded and intriguing. There was that wonderful sarcasm Fran was also known for.

"You're not gonna let that go, are you?"

"Not on your life."

"Fran…"

"Hmm?"

"You are an asshole. In every sense of the word."

"What can I say? It's an art. But at the same time…" The illusionist trailed off. Belphegor stared at him. "At the same time, what?"

"Well, to be honest, that was the nicest 'kind-of-a-compliment-but-not-really' anyone's ever given me. Actually…it's the only one, but you know what I mean. So, um, thanks…I guess."

Belphegor felt his face heat up. Fran was staring at him so intently, he thought the skin was going to melt off of his face. He was also glad they were at a red light, because if they had been moving, they probably would have been dead right about then. Fran hadn't looked at the road in about twenty-something odd seconds.

"Um…you're welcome? But-but don't get used to it,"He added quickly, "I just liked the shirt you were wearing yesterday, that's all!" He shouted, his blush getting heavier and heavier.

"Sempai, your face is all red."

"Shut up! I'm not blushing!"

"I didn't say you were blushing, stupid. I said your face was red."

"Yeah, well…it's hot in here."

"But the A/C is on full blast."

"Will you shut up?"

Fran turned back to the road as the light turned green. "Are you having problems controlling your post-menopausal hot-flashes, ma'am?" He quipped sardonically.

Once again, Belphegor found himself sputtering indignantly. It was irritating how easily Fran could get that kind of reaction out of him. He glared at the younger hitman with a tight smile.

"What. Did you. Just call me?"He snapped.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I offend you, ma'am?"

"Stop calling me that."

"Only if you stop bitching like a PMSing forty-five year old woman." Fran retorted.

"I'm not bitching!"

"Oh, you're definitely bitching, sempai."

"I am now, because you're pissing me the hell off!"

"God, you're so cranky. And right after I thanked you for complimenting me, too. Are you hungry or something?"

"Now you're making me sound like a fucking four-year old!"

"Just for the record, you said that, not me."

Belphegor slumped in his seat, his arms folded across his chest moodily. Why do I like this douchebag again?

"I'm putting the radio on, okay sempai?" Fran asked casually, if not a bit smugly, at realizing that Belphegor conceded the argument to him.

"Whatever." Belphegor snapped, staring out the passenger window petulantly.

"~It's a nice day for a, White Wedding~" Blared from the radio suddenly, and Belphegor turned slowly to stare at the younger man, who was singing along without a care in the world, bobbing his head to the music.

"Fran, really?"The prince asked incredulously. Fran, who was getting kind of into the song, Bel noticed with a snort, turned to look at him, still singing loudly and twitching his top lip like he was about to sneeze. Belphegor stared at the younger hitman, a large, lopsided smile creeping onto his face.

"What the hell are you doing, Fran?"

"I'm trying to do the thing Billy Idol does with his lip, remember? Am I doing it?" Fran asked, his face somehow maintaining its trademark blankness despite his 'valiant' efforts to snarl like the famed eighties icon.

Belphegor stared at him blankly.

"You look like you're having a fucking stroke." He said bluntly.

"Wow, very rude, sempai." Fran said, wagging his finger at the older man, who just rolled his eyes. Regardless, Fran kept singing and kind of snarling at the same time, his face getting more absurd as the song progressed. Finally, Belphegor sat up and changed the station.

"Fran, oh my God, stop doing that! It's freaking me out!" Belphegor shrieked.

"Oh come on, I like that song."

"Yeah, clearly."

"You don't like eighties music, sempai?"

"Of course I do. But I can't enjoy it as much when your sitting next to me and your face is fucking short-circuiting like a broken furby."

Fran frowned. "Aw, was it that bad?"

"Don't pity yourself! I'm the one who had to watch that horror show on your face! Could you be any dorkier?"

Fran slapped a hand over his heart. "Ow, my feelings. Sempai, you're crushing my soul with your hurtful words." He said in his usual deadpanned voice. Belphegor punched him in the arm and changed the station again. After that, the two lapsed into a comfortable silence for awhile, one of the two occasionally changing the station or turning the volume up.

The city soon came into view; several high-rise buildings obscured the fading sun, while others reflected its light off of their polished glass surfaces.

"Wow, the sunset looks so different here, doesn't it, sempai?" Fran said thoughtfully as he shut off the air conditioning and rolled the windows down. There was a pleasant breeze passing through the bustling city, and the two assassins preferred the cool, evening breeze to the artificial frost of the car's cooling system.

The sleek sports car came to a halt as the pair inevitably approached the city traffic. The air seemed to stagnate a bit once they came to a complete stop, so Fran turned the air back on, but on the lowest setting, so the slight coolness of the car's air mingled with the outside breeze. In the meantime, Fran leaned back in his seat, fiddling idly with the buttons for the sunroof as they waited for the light to turn green.

"I think we're almost there. I see the…the…you know, the government building. I forgot what it's called." Belphegor said with a casual shrug. Fran repeated the gesture idly.

"Looks like it, but it's all one-way streets here. It's gonna take a while to actually get there."

And with that, the two settled down for a nice, relaxing, bumper-to-bumper ride in the city.

But despite the traffic inching along, Belphegor found himself settling further in to the seat of the car. The prince let his eyes drift closed as the car rolled forward. Something about the whole scenario made him feel completely at peace, with the wind rustling his hair and cooling his face, and the slow electronic music on the radio and Fran's dull, yet oddly relaxing voice singing along gradually lulling him to sleep.

Fran had mentioned once before that cruising was one of the most relaxing things ever, and as the car crept along the boulevard at a snail's pace, Bel decided that next time Fran went out driving, he'd be happy to tag along.

Oh my God, this is now a three-shit. I mean shot. No, shit sounds better. So yeah, it's a three-shit. I'll try not to leave it sitting too long, because I'd like to have another completed series to be mildly happy about, you know?

Anyway, this chapter was more about the specifics of Bel's interest in our little frogger. Hopefully it wasn't lacking in the humor department, but I had to get the love-ball rolling. As well as show why Bel labels Fran as a dork.

As a side note: Fran is not emotionless, guys. And I really hate it when people say that, just because he's monotone and blunt. He can smile, and pout, and look scared, …have you all read the manga lately? So I just wanted to show Fran being a, well, a dork. And no, I don't think eighties music is dorky, because I do exactly what Fran was doing every single time I listen to 'White Wedding' too. I'm assuming most of you are familiar with that song, and if you're not…well, you should be. *Stern look*

Anyway, see ya when I see ya. Don't forget to review!