A/N: I feel like I should mention that there is no real timeline in any of these drabbles. These stories are NOT interrelated. They are merely drabbly-drabbles of doomy-doom. So… just read and enjoy. Don't worry about keeping track or figuring out if I have established fanon lives for Ike and Shadow (because I don't and haven't).

I know it's been a while since I've updated… but boy has life gotten hectic.

Warning: Awesome-O says that this is GAY. Full of GAY. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I… I gots nothing. Really. Nothing. Sorry.

Summary: Challenge fic. 25 Random Words. The rules? Just use the word in a scene about the pairing. Chapter 16: Charity.

Remember:

"Blah" – Speech

Blah –Thoughts/Emphasis

Blah – Self Explanatory

16. Charity

"Dude…" the redheaded Goth said with a hair flip. "What in the effing H are we doing here?"

"Shut up," Henrietta grumbled behind him, tapping ashes off her cigarette. "The sound of your whiny voice is going to piss me off even more." The pair of Goths exchanged glares, Henrietta approaching menacingly.

"Look," the leader interrupted, stopping her from burning the shorter male, "I know that it's early, but Shadow called us. We told him we'd come, and we're here. Damn…"

The three Goths stood in front of the overly large truck, grimacing. No one in the group moved a muscle. A cold wind rattled them, effectively sending a smattering of gray ash from burning cigarettes toward the front door of the chrome automobile. The smell of smoldering nicotine must have wafted inside, because, next thing they knew, a dark-clothed body was leaning in the doorway, awaiting the three Goths.

"What are you guys doing? Waiting for me to ring a bell or something?" Shadow questioned, folding his arms across his chest smugly.

"It's only because you're the baby!" Henrietta blurted out of nowhere, marching forward and past the youngest of the Goth clique. She jostled the arm bandaged in dark purple, more than likely on purpose.

The redhead followed after a moment of hesitation, then hissed to Shadow, "If they mistake us for wannabe faggy vamp kids, I swear…" Shadow only laughed in response, watching as the two made their way inside the truck, shivering at the cool fans blowing.

"So," the leader said, bored expression resting over his face, "What's up with the charity? I didn't think smokers could give blood."

"Ike asked me for a favor," he responded in a similar manner. Quickly, he glanced back into the truck, noting Ike handing clipboards to the other Goths.

"Ah. I see. That makes more sense," the leader stated. He picked up his cane and slung it over his shoulder carefree. Traipsing up the steps, he whispered to Shadow, "You're charitable, and he'll be charitable?"

Shadow blanched, then spun around, wide-eyed at the leader. His good friend of many years simply smirked in triumph and walked over to speak with Ike. The Canadian was friendly, but slightly confused when Shadow huffed back up the stairs, ready to set the record straight.

He proceeded to pass out from strenuous activity after blood loss… The Goths refused to let him live it down.

—END?—