Giggles planned the festivity in less than two days, asking neither Flaky's nor Lifty's opinion on decorations, what would be catered, nor where it'd be hosted. She had taken the burden joyfully and said it was her "duty to ensure the party is the best of the year!" Only the morning before she had it scheduled—she hadn't informed them at all until it came to her as a passing thought—did she go over the blueprints of what would go down.

Giggles had walked into the redhead's house, ignoring the snoozing thief on the couch, and laid out her schedule on the dining table. She pointed to what Flaky assumed to be her backyard, signaling the spread tables and circles that symbolized each friend.

"Well, what do you think?" Giggles asked earnestly. "I already got Cuddles and Toothy to go pick up the tables, and Handy said he'd handle the chairs. Practically everyone is pitching in! Isn't that awesome?" She beamed at Flaky, who was in mid-bite of her bagel. Her chewing was slow as she contemplated all her friend had done. She swallowed and looked over the makeshift plan again, at a loss for words.

"Wow, G-Giggles," she sounded breathy, astonished by the effort her friend had put in. "I—this is j-just . . ."

"Nice, kind, sweet of me? Yeah, I know~! And I promise it'll look even better in person, on paper it looks like such a drab." Giggles rolled it up and held it in her hands, watching Flaky keenly enough to notice her glance to the sleeping male. Her forehead creased with worry lines that the pink hued girl soon rubbed out. "Why are you worrying? You weren't the girl who stayed up all hours of the night to finish this—" she smiled meekly at her guilty expression, "—so what's the problem?"

"How c-can you tell I'm worrying? B-because I'm not, I'm just thinking what would happen if the rest don't like Lifty?"

The fashionista sighed, joining her at staring at the slumbering twin. "You never know, but he's bound to have some good quirks in him, right? Like he hasn't done anything too bad these past days, yes? And I haven't heard you complain about him messing your things up, or any disappearances of your silverware or jewelry." Her expression grew thoughtful. "And there haven't been many thefts ever since he began residing here, so that's something we all should be grateful for."

That was true.

"But what if t-they still don't trust him?" Flaky cautiously moved around the knife on her plate. "I know that Flippy isn't too happy a-about him being my friend, and Lammy hasn't tried to get to know him past the first layer. So how can I e-expect other people to like him?"

Shockingly, the dressy girl didn't have an answer. She adjusted her bow as seconds passed, turning to minutes. What did Flaky want to hear? That her worries were pointless and their friends would welcome the crook with open arms? If she did, she would be planting false seeds of hope in the paranoid teen. It could be the truth, but it just as well could be a lie.

Flaky spoke quietly, a wisp almost. "D-do you like him?"

Musing on the question, Giggles tapped her manicured nails on the table. Each click counted as one second, her fingers moving as if she were playing a piano. She felt torn between whether to tell the honest truth, which would be a definite no, or stretch it into a teensy lie. The former could only hurt her feelings, but the latter could raise her expectations. It was better to go with the choice that didn't make her seem like a terrible friend.

"That's a tough question." The perfect way to start a sugar coated letdown. "It really is, and you know, I think I might have to get back to you on that." One look at Flaky's hope flooding from her expression said she wouldn't be worming of the interrogation that easily. Giggles brushed her dress down and searched for an adequate reply. Finding none, she turned to the answer she hadn't wanted to use. "I can't say I do, Flaky."

"Then w-why would the others, who've only heard what goes around the street, like him? I-I don't think he's ready for this, m-maybe we should postpone the party and I'll see if I can t-tidy him up more." A hand on her forearm put a stop to her frantic panicking. She bite her tongue to keep back the waterfall of concerns that threatened to spill out. "Too much?"

Nodding in agreement, she stroked her arm soothingly and watched the panic gradually abate. "Yeah, you're not going all Mother Hen on me are you? You act as if we're going to come with bats and pummel him, calm down Flaky!"

She had gotten this far, maybe it would be effective to rip off the band aid now and tell her the truth of what her actions would lead to. "You're going to have to let him be on his own soon, he can't be using you as a crutch for the remainder of his life."

The words Flaky had been fearing to hear, and once she did, she shrunk. If she wasn't there for her friend, who would be? He couldn't live without her being right beside him—not that she had given him much of a chance to see how he'd handle being alone. If he was capable of figuring out what his life plan was, she wouldn't have found him shouting that day. He wouldn't have been alone and waiting for help to come along, he needed her to fall back on. She was his rock, metaphorically. And to think of him leaving, getting up off her couch and walking away, it was too troublesome.

It was her priority to shelter and teach him, and thinking of how he might stop being dependent on her . . . Unsettled, the timid female shook her head, hair waving in her face in messy strands. "N-no!" she protested, feeling as her face heated up. "H-he wouldn't just go away, Lifty needs me!"

A snore from the couch warned her that the subject of talk was still in the room.

"I-I'm just looking out for him," she said, tone hused. Giggles looked from her reddened cheeks, to the hands that cupped her knees fiercely, and to her pleading stare. Flaky wouldn't succumb and admit that what she said was true; one day he wouldn't depend on her any longer. After that he couldn't only expect to socialize with her, and this would be a training step to that.

"I know you're concerned, but really, be rational. This might be good for him, he'll get out of his comfort zone and meet new people. Who knows, without his brother around the others might actually not find as, hm, threatening."

"But, but." Flaky could only gaze upon the sleeping face that held none of the annoyance and roughness it did during the day. The lines in his forehead were smoothed out, his brows separated from their usual burrow. Though, his lips were still curved down, like he was scowling in his sleep, just not as serious. She couldn't let him be exhibited before jeering crowds. They would be rude, uncaring, hurtful. "I . . ."

xXx

"How about you take this pack of streamers and go see what you can do with it?"

Lifty juggled the packet Giggles had handed him between his hands. Opening the top as she turned away, he shook one of the six multicolored tissue paper rolls into his palm. He turned it in every which way, pinching an end in his fingers and dropping the actual roll. It unraveled and left a pointless paper that swayed in the breeze.

Blinking out of boredom, he dropped it and the packet and left to go sit at a table.

While he sat around, Flaky was busy at work. There were tables that needed to be set, lawn chairs that needed to be unfolded, lanterns to be hung, how had Giggles believed they'd finish in time? She and Lifty were the only two in charge of setting up every outdoor adornment. Petunia had kitchen duty, even if they would be ordering most if not all of the food, Cuddles and Toothy were the messenger boys who alerted their friends of the party, and Giggles was giving orders to Nutty, whose possession she had unintentionally left their supplies of desserts in.

The nervous girl had draped a white cloth over the second to last table before she actually saw that he was doing nothing. Leaving her duties, she went and took the seat across him. Pleased that he hadn't said anything against her sitting in his company, she took the brave and asked, "H-hey, are you feeling okay?"

"Yup, 'bout the same as when you asked me an hour ago," he said, the reply automatic.

"O-oh, sorry about that, b-but you just seem like you would rather be anywhere than here. I-if you're scared of what they might say, don't be, G-Giggles said they'll all be extra nice—even more than they always are."

Lifty saw that, while she spoke, she had fiddled with the end of the table cloth. Flaky really couldn't keep still while talking to anyone, but he did notice that she had gradually grew less fidgety and skittish around him. She almost seemed calm at times, before a stroke of paranoia swept through her, then she was back to her regular shaky self.

"Stop it," the twin interrupted what she'd been saying about how wholehearted her friends were. He took her hands away from the cloth and laid them on the table. They had briefly stopped trembling under his hold, Flaky, surprised by his actions, fixing her eyes on her hands even after he had pulled his back. "You really should get those fidgets checked out, it's too much of a distraction for other people."

Snapping back, she hid her hands at her sides. "I-I will."

"As for your little pals." Sickened by the mere thought of the crowd being identically cheery and dripping fake happiness, he grimaced. "They can say or do whatever they want. I'm not scared of anything they can say, it doesn't affect me. If they're still butthurt because I happened to take their crap, that's their problem."

"But can you at least t-try to . . . at least try to prove them w-wrong if they say anything?"

"Mm?"

The redhead shrugged slightly, her words mumbled. "Just show them that y-you aren't what they think. I-I know you're not." She moved her hand away to rest atop his, her movements hesitant should he choose to move away.

When he showed no signs of disapproval, she covered the appendage with both hands, licking her dry lips. "Y-you really are better than that, and you deserve to be treated l-like it. I can tell you're not t-the same as you were before. If y-you could just show them that you have, then I'm sure t-they'll see it too. You've changed Lifty."

The simplicity of the words in her last sentence sent a pang to his heart. It was like a vex that tightened each time his chest expanded for air. Branching out, it turned into a constricting bond that restrained his breaths and blocked the oxygen from reaching his lungs.

What was it? It was starting to hurt, like his ribs would crack under the invisible boa's hold and suffocate him. Had she noticed how long he'd been silent? Or the pain, inflicted by the crushing squeeze, that crossed his face? She was still staring at him zealously with those two eyes.

Had her eyes always been that big? A ruby red that, if you looked further enough, contained specks of brown and almost appeared hazel on the edges of the iris. Framed by thick black eyelashes and holding a warmth, they were captivating, beautiful even.

—did he just think of her as beautiful? No! It was her eyes, they were large and guarded no secretes, they must have caught him by enough surprise to make him think they were in the slightest way pretty. He had seen her eyes hundreds of times before, sometimes even closer than they were now, but right now, they were different. Shimmering, reflecting his frozen countenance, huge, large enough to steal any attention away from her other facial features, and truthful, she didn't have any lies to tell him.

And why was he still struck dumb? The blood that pounded in his head warned him to take a breath before he passed out.

"Er—" He would have smacked himself for looking like an oaf if she weren't there. Lifty nodded steadily. "Y-yeah, whatever you say Flaky. Well I'm feeling better, how about we finish this stuff and maybe they'll here here by—Fuck!"

Flaky squeaked and stood, looking over the table to where he was glaring at the sky from the ground. "W-woah! Lifty, are y-you hurt?!"

In his hurry to get up, he had forgotten that the chairs were on grass instead of a wood or tiled flooring. As he pushed out, the legs had gotten caught and stuck in the clumped grass, and with him rushing to leave the seat, he had put all his weight on the back support. He hadn't known he was tipping back until he hit the firm ground a second later.

"Shit that hurt," groaned Lifty. He pushed himself off the chair and stood, cleaning his pants of the grass blades. Her eyes scanning him for scratches or cuts, he turned to hide the embarrassment that clearly showed. "Let's just do this thing already, the sun's almost high and I don't wanna be sweating later on."

Flaky, though she felt the obvious change in the atmosphere, didn't say anything but, "O-okay."

xXx

"Wmere ymou mant the manterns?"

Giggles tore her stare away from where she'd been checking off items on a clipboard and to the man who'd spoken. It was Handy. . . with a hammer and nails in his mouth. The construction worker scowled at her staring, glower deepening as a nail fell from his lips.

"You've done so much work already," Giggles put the fallen object back in his chest pocket. "I can take it from here if you—"

"Jmust tell me wmere ymou mant them." Agitated that she was offering him a chance to sit out, he was that much more determined to complete hanging the paper balls. Giggles, aware of how hard headed the handyman could be, directed him to the house gutters. He grumbled and left to fetch his ladder and toolbox. How he'd lug both things was beyond Giggles, the girl returning to her check list.

"Should it be facing this way," Flaky asked herself, "or that way? Or maybe if I put it on a different table—"

"It looks fine, quit messing it up." Lifty winced, rectifying himself, "It's in the perfect place, you had it just fine the first time. Why don't you go work on another pot?"

Flaky took her hands from the flower pot that worked as a center piece, looking at it from another angle. "D-do you think so? It looks wrong to me, l-like it's too far to the right instead of in the middle."

"Because you're looking at it in the wrong place." He motioned her over to his spot, lightly touching her arm as he pointed out the pots actual place. "It's not too far right and not too far left. If you keep moving it around, it might be, but for now it's fine."

"If you say so." Trusting that it was only her eyes that were deceiving her, she moved on to the next table.

Walking past where Handy had somehow managed to bring his ladder to the patio's edge, Lifty stopped to speculate. The sandy haired man emptied his toolbox, carried it to the top rung of the ladder, and came back down to repeat the same process with the tools. He must have been pretty flexible to bend to where his face was inches from the floor, and unhygienic if he scoped every germ covered, unclean tool using his teeth. It was a shocker Petunia could be with him, but in a way, they might have balanced each other out.

Handy, seeing Lifty's ogling, grunted and put the screw driver he was carrying on a step. "Is there something I can help you with? A reason why you're staring?"

"Nope." His nubs moved when he talked. "No reason." How did he tie the bandages each morning? "No reason at all." If he put seed fertilizer on his stubs, would they grow back by the next morning?

"Then stop looking at me," Handy snapped, going back to his work. Bristling, frustration growing when Lifty wouldn't look away, he bumped the screw driver with his nose when he went in to pick it up. The tool fell three feet to the ground, aggravating the worker to the brink of anger. "Dammit to hel—"

The curse was halted as Lifty moved forward, grabbing the dropped item, and offered it to the tanned man. "I think you dropped this?" Handy's uncertainty turned to sarcasm, the look that said no, it came from the sky, plastered to his face. Seeing how the armless male couldn't take it, Lifty considered if he should put it to his mouth to hold. But going with his better judgement, or what he thought could be his better judgement, he put the screw driver where it had originally been.

"Thanks," he sounded ungrateful, but that could be from the bitterness of not being able to do anything on his own. "I've got it from here."

"Damn, I was just trying to give it to you," Lifty murmured. He did a good deed for once and he got a sarcastic thank you. What the heck?

He moved to lean against the house wall, not daring to go inside least Petunia scream at him for tracking mud inside. Flaky was still moving, working, adjusting. Moving, working, adjusting. This went on for the next hour, Giggles giving him balloons to blow up after finding him doing nothing, in a repetitious pattern.

Lifty, feeling light headed, let go of the balloon he was working on and allowed it to go flying off. Flaky looked like she needed a well-deserved break, but she wouldn't stop trying to finish the preparations on her own. It was just like her to think that, he thought while rolling his eyes.

"Hey, you ready to sit down yet? It's getting hot and you're wearing a sweater, take a break from it Flaky. Leave the rest for later when you finally get something cold in you."

"I c-can't," Flaky whined, refusing the outstretched bottle of water he held to her. "It n-needs to be perfect or else . . . it just needs to be p-perfect!"

He put the bottle down after taking a quick sip of it. "You're gonna wear yourself out in the sun. And when you get heat stroke or a bad tan, don't say I didn't warn you."

Taking some of his advice, she wiped her brow and pulled out a chair. Touching the top of her head, she cringed at the burning feel her hair had from the hours of sun exposure. This was consuming more time than she had expected, it was lucky that they had gotten such an early start. If their friends had arrived and found them hurrying to finish, what impression would that give? She angled the first pot she had set down until it look right in her eyes, then assumed her actions of readying.

Flaky picked up the glass cup that Giggles had drank from earlier. "Okay Lifty, I-I'll go get something to drink, but then you're helping me with the rest!"

"No promises~" Lifty stood as well and waited for her to swerve around the tables.

Handy, still working on hammering the lanterns in, put down his hammer in favor of a nail. He hadn't seen the faint Flaky bumbling towards him as he worked the stick of iron in as best as he possibly could. But when the shake came and lurched him forward, he knew Flaky had bumped into the ladder. The nail that had been held between his teeth was immediately swallowed. Feeling the sharp tip scratch at his esophagus, Handy, in a sudden panic, hit the tool box from the top rung.

Lifty watched as the construction worker fell from the ladder to the ground, gagging, but that wasn't his main concern. What was his focus was the fearful squeal Flaky emitted as the tool box crashed to the ground.

Crack!

"Aaahhh!"

Lifty was on his feet in an instant, rushing to Flaky, who was staring wide eyed into her hand. The hand that had once held the glass cup, but now only held glass shards.

When the tool box had fallen, the shy female had been spooked enough to break the cup in her grip. She had screamed as the sensitive skin of her palm was punctured and, due from past events, horrified that close by a monster had been unleashed.

Her injured hand held protectively to her chest, she cried in fear and cowered as a man's hand gripped her wrist. The black glove and dribble of her blood that smeared on his fingers looked too familiar. She expected to look up and see the psychotic eyes under lime green hair, hear the rough voice grate her ears as he promised to kill her, and feel the blade of a knife plunged into her stomach.

"Fuck Flaky, are you kidding me?!"

But what she got wasn't a killer's voice. It was the angry yet solicitous voice of her guest, and they were blazed emerald eyes that met hers, not a wicked golden.

Lifty growled and took her hand, inspecting the cuts like she had inspected his days back. "You really had to break the damn glass? You're too accident prone, G-d you can't go one day without having some sort of mishap can you?"

Flaky sniffed. He wasn't flipping and holding her up by her hair at the sound of breaking glass or the sight of blood. He was telling her to be more careful, but he hadn't pulled out a knife to stab her with. So used to being around Flippy when things went wrong she had expected to be dead already, but she wasn't. Bleeding and in pain when he turned her hand, but she was breathing.

"I-I didn't m-mean to—"

"Stop, stop and shut up. You're really going to be the death of me one day." Pulling off his striped scarf and shaking his head, Lifty wrapped the article of clothing around her wounded hand. "There, so Petunia won't lose her head when she sees you got blood on Giggles' floor. Let's go tell her, and stop crying, it's only a few cuts."

Seeing that he wasn't being particularly empathetic, he took the time to look over her shining face and trembling lips. She was so small, coming across as helpless, and yet he was able to snap at her without guilt. Huffing, he collected the water from her eyes on his finger and flicked it away. "You little crybaby, you're not gonna bleed out. I wouldn't let you. Let's just get you some bandages and you'll be fine, 'kay?"

Flaky counted the dark green stripes on his scarf. "M-mm hm. But . . . I-I'm sorry about y-your scarf."

"What?" It clicked that it would have red stains on it now; Lifty hid his scowl. "It'll come out with water, don't be worrying when you're the one who's bleeding." He wrapped his arm around her shorter frame and turned her to the clear doors; both jumped when they saw Giggles watching intently, the start of a smile on her glossy lips.

"Do you just appear anytime you want?" Strangely, he felt violated with her having seen and heard and not making her presence known sooner.

"Kind of!"

Creepy. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to figure out your little secrete~!" She giggled, winking and taking Flaky by the other arm. His eye twitched; what was she talking about? "And I've known it since the first day~! Why don't you just admit it now?"

"Like I have a secrete, and if I did I wouldn't be telling you. You'd be the last girl on Earth that I'd share anything with."

As, from either side of her, the accusation of Lifty having a secrete went on, Flaky felt the strangest sensation on her neck. A prickle of uneasiness, that of which you received when catching the class creep staring at you from across the room.

"Do not."

"Do to~!"

"Not."

"To!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"Fuck off."

Looking behind her, Flaky gazed over the picket fence, whose white paint created a glare in the afternoon sun, past the house behind Giggles', and to the unkempt hedge across the street. It rose ten feet up and cast a shadow to its left, and in that shadow she could almost make out the shape of a person. But from the distant she wasn't sure if it was only her imagination or if they were real.

If they were, she would have felt her blood go cold. The way they stood made it seem as if they'd been standing there a while. And the spark of mischief in their narrowed eyes would have terrified her, but it could always be the sun casting its tricks. She looked at Lifty, who was in the ongoing dispute with Giggles, then back to the hedge.

Whoever they were, they were gone now, leaving nothing behind.

They had been watching her and Lifty, but why?

xXx

I had fun writing this chapter Cx Probably because I actually had some obvious LiftyxFlaky scenes in here XD

. . . Did anyone notice that they left Handy to die and felt no remorse? XD

Oooh so who's that stranger? I think you all can guess :3 I'm gonna have so much fun writing the next chapter, and this story is almost done hellz yes! Only like seven more chaps, YAY! :D

Why must I bring up Boony and Crystal in every chapter now? xD