A/N: Sorry about the wait, folks, I'm trying to cobble together time between work and school for these so I beg your patience between updates. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed/followed/favorite-ed. You are awesome.

This chapter takes place before Double Date. The title will make sense in a bit.

You Might As Well Live

Bugs didn't end up at the library often, but it was small enough and he'd been there enough times to have the layout pretty much memorized. He made a beeline down the third aisle to the right, scanning for anything interesting among the new arrivals. There were a whole section of mystery novels, a few obligatory paranormal romances, and a collection of Dorothy Parker poems. He bypassed the others and pulled the Parker book off the shelf, jumping back with a start at the sight of a large eye blinking at him from the empty space where the book once sat.

"Hey, Bun-bun! What'cha doin'?" Lola chirped from behind the bookshelf. She pushed a section of books over, making a space wide enough to reveal her whole face.

Bugs backed up the narrow aisle until he lightly bumped into the next bookshelf, blocked from going any further. "Lola, wha'… W...where did you…?"

"What are you reading?" She leaned forward as far as she could, her forearms braced on the shelf.

"Lola, did you follow me here?" Bugs asked point-blank.

"What?…nooo… did I follow you, no!" Lola gave an unconvincing, scoffing sort of chuckle. "I come here all the…"

"Young lady!" a voice hissed from the front desk. A large woman with a rather severe, blade shaped nose glared Lola down and put a finger to her lips. "Quiet!"

Lola ducked sheepishly behind a hardcopy of The Tell-Tale Heart. "I come here all the time," she whispered.

"Made a few friends and everything," Bugs said sardonically, glancing at the librarian.

"I think she's new…" Lola peeked around the shelf and determined that the woman was, in fact, still glaring fixedly at her from her perch at the front desk.

"She's been in charge of this place since the late 90s. Her name's April." Bugs replied pointedly. "And she will fillet your vocal chords if you get too loud. Just so you know," He pushed the stack of books she'd moved back into place, blocking her from view, and continued moving down the aisle. He wasn't about to explain that the only reason he knew April's name was because Daffy had demolished the library's outdoor book-drop-box with his car ten years ago. It had taken six months of volunteer work and a hit from Bugs's bank account to smooth the incident over, but he'd always remember April and her territorial nature when it came to her library.

"I think it's great that you read," Lola whispered from the other aisle. Bugs could tell by the way her voice rose and dropped that she was hopping up and down, trying to maintain eye contact through the little gaps between the books and the bottom of the shelf above them. She reached the end of the aisle about the same time he did and swung with one hand around the bookcase in order to block his path. The whole shelving unit swayed in tandem with her.

"Ya know 25% of Americans won't even read a book this year," she recited. "Isn't that crazy?"

Bugs cocked an eyebrow. "Are you referring to the statistic they post on the bulletin board to give people who've already walked into a library some brief sense of superiority?"

Lola blinked. Her eyes darted to the very bulletin board across the room and then back at Bugs again. "Yeah…"

"Nice talkin' to you, Lola," Bugs dryly ended the conversation. He sidestepped around her in an attempt to leave but she somehow caught the book he was carrying in both hands and stopped him.

She twisted her head in order to read the front cover. Her eyes squinted and her ponytail swung in an odd tilt. "Dorothy Parker…" she murmured. "Like that girl in The Wizard of Oz?" she asked brightly.

"No, not Dorothy the fictional character. Dorothy Parker was a real person. She was a poet." He let go of the book in lieu of handing it to her.

Lola straightened and flipped the pages open with uncompromisable interest. Her eye caught on one of the shorter entries and she began reading softly, almost to herself.

"Resume.

Razors pain you;

Rivers are damp;

Acids stain you;

And drugs cause cramp.

Guns aren't lawful;

Nooses give;

Gas smells awful;

You might as well live."

Her nose wrinkled. She read the last line over again and then frowned. "Well, that's kinda depressing."

"It's a joke," Bugs explained with explained with a little shrug. "She's making light of death like it's too much of a hassle. It's funny."

"Funny, huh?" She eyed him strangely, like she wasn't sure what to make of him anymore. "Oh, y'know what's funny, I heard this joke about a beaver… no wait, I think it was a sea lion, no the sea lion was the bartender… isn't that silly, I can't remember who walked into the bar…"

"I thought I told you to be quiet!" a harsh voice sounded behind Lola and she whirled around in surprise. Bugs had to duck to avoid being whacked in the face by her ears.

"Well, I was just… uh…" Lola squeaked, clutching the Dorothy Parker book in front of her like a shield. The librarian towered over her, fists planted firmly on her hips, eyes inflamed.

"April, didn't see you 'dere…" Bugs said as nonchalantly as possible. He maneuvered between them, subtly preparing to back down the nearest aisle should he need to make a quick escape. "You haven't met yet, have you? Lola this is April. April…Lola. She's just discovering dark comedy, but I don't think she's a big fan." He said to April, slow enough to come off casually but so fast there was no space for either her or Lola to interject. "You could show her where you keep L. Frank Baum's work. She likes The Wizard of Oz, though I'm not sure about the spin-offs. How many spin-offs did that ol' book get anyway?"

April looked a little lost, as if she couldn't remember why she'd left her desk in the first place. "I'm not sure… I could check the computer."

"Check the computer, there ya go," Bugs turned to Lola, "See, all you gotta do to get good help is ask for it." Lola stared blankly at him, looking just as lost as the librarian. He turned back to April. "Why don't you check that computer and we'll be off in the dark comedy section…"

April nodded slowly, walking back to her desk in a resigned, head-shaking kind of daze. Lola followed her with her eyes, not daring to open her mouth until the librarian had safely returned to her post in the front desk chair.

"There's a dark comedy section?" she whispered, leaning in close to Bugs.

"If you came here all the time you'd know there isn't," he whispered back.

"Right," she glanced down at her feet. "Thanks for that. I really thought she was going to rip my voice out for a second there."

"Don't worry about it. Stop following me into places and we'll call it even."

Lola smiled sheepishly and nodded.

Bugs turned to leave. Lola matched his steps, any closer and she'd be bumping into him. Bugs stopped and shot her a narrow look.

"No following. Gotcha." She took several exaggerated steps backwards, coming to a stop right alongside a bookshelf.

He repeated the beeline route he'd taken to get in. He didn't dare glance at the front desk as he past it in case April finally put together what happened and decided to unleash her brand of verbal abuse on him. There were only few feet left to sweet freedom when he heard Lola call from behind:

"Oh, Bugs, you forgot your book!"

He didn't see all of what happened next, but a split second after she'd shouted his name there was a loud, banging noise followed by several heavy objects pattering to the ground like five pound raindrops, followed by another loud bang. When morbid curiosity finally took over he looked back down the hall to see a succession of bookcases tipping over, knocking into each other one by one like dominoes, and dumping books to the ground in the process. The last bookshelf fell into the bulletin board, punching a solid hole into the 25% of Americans won't read a book this year poster. Lola stood at one end of the room, eyes wide enough to each hold a teacup. April stood behind her desk at the other end, her stare probably capable of frying an egg.

Bugs backed out the door and sprinted for his car.

The next time they ran into each other was in line for takeout. On Tuesday nights from five to seven the local sushi place would offer half off on select items and the line would often stretch out the door. Daffy always insisted on going and Bugs didn't mind so much as long as he didn't have to pay full price. They had just gotten through the door when Bugs noticed Lola standing in line six or seven people in front of them, her back still turned.

"Hey, Daffy, how 'bout pizza tonight. We haven't had pizza in like two days," he suggested.

"Have you gone mad?" Daffy looked scandalized. "And miss the sweet and sour s-thrimp?" He frowned, realizing he didn't have Bugs's full attention and followed his eye line around the restaurant to the girl bunny up ahead. "Hey, doesn't she look familiar?" he asked.

"Who?"

"The one with the weird ear-do," Daffy made a swooping motion with one hand mimicking a ponytail. "Wasn't she your secretary or something?"

Bugs gave Daffy an incredulous look.

"Daffy, that's Lola. You remember the country club… You were using her father's membership number… I almost got married…"

"Oh, your girlfriend, Lola!"

"She's not my…"

"Hey, Lola!" Daffy cupped his hands around his beak and shouted, loud enough to catch the attention of everyone in a five-mile radius. Lola whirled around in alarm, searching for the source of the unfamiliar voice and her eyes caught sight of Daffy frantically waving at her and Bugs frozen in place next to him. Bugs mentally debated whether he should make a break for it or dump Daffy in the deep fryer. Or try for both.

Lola's face switched from perplexed to ecstatic on a dime. "Hey guys, over here!" She waved them over.

"Sweet! C'mon," Daffy left the line, pulling Bugs by the arm.

"Daffy, I'm not goin' over there." Bugs dug his heels into the floor.

"Of course you are. She's letting us cut in line. Don't squander these opportunities, Bugs. Embrace them. Live them," Daffy's voice dipped low and intense. "Tonight we cut this line like kings!"

With that Daffy pushed through several disapproving patrons with a disgruntled Bugs Bunny in tow until they reached Lola.

"Hey, Bun-bun, I had no idea you ate here!" she exclaimed, oblivious to the dirty looks they were getting from the rest of the line.

"Excuse me," the mustachioed gentleman directly behind him spoke up tersely.

"Oh, it's okay, they're with me," Lola explained.

The mustache opened his mouth to counter but Daffy cut him off. "We're her secret service staff," he interjected authoritatively, touching his hand to an ear like he was adjusting an invisible ear-piece. "We are required to be within two steps of our client at all times for your own protection."

"Don't you mean her own…" the man began.

"You heard what I said!" Daffy cut him off, spittle flying from his beak. "Now I'll need you to take three and half steps back and keep your voice down. She startles easily. You don't wanna see the last poor sap who did that."

Mustache man glanced nervously from Daffy to Lola, who waved and gave him a wide, perky smile. He obviously decided it wasn't worth protesting his spot in line any further and took several steps back.

"We're almost near the front anyway," Bugs said with a placating shrug.

Instead of getting their food to-go like they had planned Daffy and Lola headed straight for an empty table near the back door. Bugs dragged his tray up to the register and reached for his wallet before the acne-covered clerk informed him it wasn't necessary.

"The lady already covered it," the teenager explained in a flat, bored tone.

"Oh…" Bugs paused, a little caught off guard. "Ok then."

"You're kinda holding up the line…" acne-clerk hinted. Bugs gave a quick apology and pulled a chair up to the little table Daffy and Lola were already seated at, chatting energetically across from each other like they were already old friends.

"So I slam on the breaks, only the breaks turn out to be the accelerator, and then out of nowhere this metal box smashes into my car!" Daffy aggressively shook the hot sauce bottle over his food in rhythm with his story, slapping his free hand against the table to create a banging noise to accent the accident. "The thing flew like a mile, books were everywhere. I was pulling pages off the windshield for weeks. I still say putting that drop-box on the side of the road was an unlawful hazard."

"Tell me about it," Lola sighed, briefly recounting her own library mishap. "I mean, who doesn't bolt their bookshelves to the floor? What if there's an earthquake? Or a tidal wave?"

"Irresponsible," Daffy shook his head sadly. He tipped the hot sauce bottle one last time before setting it back, empty but for a thin layer at the bottom of the bottle.

"You got enough shrimp for that sauce?" Bugs nodded judgmentally at Daffy's plate. "I don't think the fish are supposed ta keep swimming after they're caught."

"It's called flavoring," Daffy took his chopsticks in hand and attempted to pick up a shrimp, only to have it slip out of the grasp of the two little sticks and into the puddle of sauce on his plate with a wet splat.

"So, I get how you know April," Lola said to Daffy. "How does Bugs know her?"

"Who d'you think paid for the new drop-box," Bugs bit into a California roll to keep the sentence from becoming any more bitter than it had to be.

"You were with me during the accident," Daffy explained in a tone that indicated they'd visited this conversation before. "That's a shared liability, it means you pay half." He clicked his chopsticks in Bugs's direction.

"I didn't pay half, I paid all of it," Bugs pointed out.

Lola's eyes widened, "Is that what shared liability means?" She glanced sidelong at Bugs. The gears turning in her mind were practically visible behind her eyes.

"No, that's not what that means. And stop that train of thought, please." Bugs said.

"What train?"

"The one that goes to Bugs-happened-to-be-there-when-I-single-handedly-d estroyed-a-public-library-so-he-must-suffer-my-pun ishment-station."

"It be more fun…" she said, leaning forward and batting her lashes.

"Nope," Bugs shook his head. "Not in a million years."

"I've got your book…"

"Keep it."

"We're making it into a game… You could win a set of Bon Jovi tickets."

"Never… wait, what?"

Lola straightened, clearly pleased with the reaction she'd gotten out of him. "Sharon, she's one of the library volunteers, she didn't destroy anything; she got two extra tickets and we decided who ever scores the most book filing points gets them."

"Bon Jovi!? Filing points?" Daffy lit up, suddenly engrossed in where the conversation was going.

"Yeah, I came up with the system. You get two points for every book you file and two hundred for every full rack. And Robert hides a post card of Mt. Rushmore in different spot everyday and if you find it…"

"Bugs, I need to borrow your car," Daffy held out his hand for the keys.

"Daffy, there is no earthly situation where I would let you borrow my car."

"But they're Bon Jovi tickets," Daffy whined.

Lola began digging through her purse. "Oh, you could borrow my… OW!" She was bluntly interrupted by a swift kick to the shin hidden under the table. She glared at Bugs who was shaking his head and making a little slashing gesture near his neck.

"What? I can borrow what!?" Daffy leaned so far across the table his beak was inches from her face.

"Just eat your hot sauce with a side of shrimp," Bugs pushed him back into his seat.

Daffy tossed his chopsticks to the side and tipped his head back, pouring the entire contents of the plate into his open beak. He leveled a smug, spiteful grin at Bugs for a full second before his smile started to falter.

"I never saw so much smoke come out of a person's ears before," Lola said with a hint of wonder. Daffy was sitting on the curb near Bugs's Prius, looking charred and a bit queasy, gargling a concoction of mouthwash and water while trying not to tip over.

"This is nothing." Bugs leaned back against the restaurant window. The 'We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone' sign reflected backwards through the glass from the outside. "He thought a Molotov cocktail was actually a drink once. At least we didn't need the fire department this time."

"You might as well live," Lola recited.

"That's... not really how that..." Bugs started slowly.

"Cuz the Molotov cocktail..."

"It wasn't an intentional..."

"...it's sorta like a bomb..."

"Don't kill the joke, Lola."

"Sor-ry," she made a face that moved suspiciously like an eye-roll. "Anyway, I like him. He seems fun."

"It's hard to have a dull moment, I'll give him that," Bugs shrugged. "Thanks for dinner, by the way. You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," she smiled.

"Lola, can you do me a favor?"

Her eyes lit up at the prospect. "Sure, anything!"

"Never let Daffy borrow anything from you. At all. Ever. Car, money, especially money, DVDs... I don't care what he tells you he needs it for; just don't let him borrow anything."

"Why?"

"Because he's a complete maroon that attracts destruction like a magnet. And I have a feeling you'd give your car to a toothless beach hobo if he asked nicely for it."

"I would not," Lola protested. "I only let my friends borrow things."

Of course Lola would consider Daffy a friend after a fifteen minute sushi dinner. In retrospect they had too much in common for them not getting along to be almost impossible. "Well, just do me this one favor and don't loan Daffy anything. You'd never get it back and he'd end up hurting something… usually himself. He's good at doing whatever's bad for him."

"But not you?"

"Me?" Bugs felt like laughing but didn't. "I always know what's good for me."