I swear I'm going to do a different Twinkie Defense snippet, that actually focuses on it a little more, but I swear Mari said ML and cream one too many times….

Snippet 9-17-07 'The Twinkie Defense' Response

"I can't believe we're a cliché," she declared cradled against his bare chest, atop the oddly stained mattress on a cement floor, a scratchy brown blanket their only defense against the germs and DNA of others.

"Hmmm?" he wondered not knowing where she was going, turned out Bling had been right, Max was a girl after-all, trying to follow her train of thoughts at times proved that even more so than their previous activities.

She sighed, "You, me, bed, Valentine's day, chocolate and cream," she ended her statement with a pout.

"Well if you had given me more of a warning, I could have put the Yodel down," he referred to the gooey mess that lay crushed beneath them and on them.

"Wasn't my fault," she pouted further, "you looked all…Pretty." She frowned at herself for saying that.

"Pretty?"

"The whole shaved thing, hair not in front of your face…Halfway naked," she looked up with a smirk.

"I was changing," he pointed out.

"While you were eating a Yodel..." The amusement she had over that word…

"I got it at lunch," he finally smirked, "right before the beef stew assault."

"Do I want to ask?" she rolled her eyes.

"I have a daily urge to quote the nineties and ask, 'Why can't we all just get along?''

She groaned and burrowed in closer to him. "All the people we should be fighting with and are and they insist on fighting with each other."

"I'm sorry," he brushed back the long brown hair.

She groaned, "This still doesn't change the fact that we're a cliché."

He chuckled once more. "If you hadn't toppled me into bed without even saying hello."

She pouted once more, "Not my fault." And it wasn't. There was something about Logan, he was a necessity, an addiction, she couldn't function without him anymore; sometimes she wondered if she was trying to stock up, to store up their memories just in case... Whatever it was, fifteen minutes without Logan could occasionally feel like too much. Her need for him overrode all thought, including tossing the Yodel out of his hand before they hit the mattress.

"Hey at least there aren't any strawberries," he teased, furthering the Valentine's Day cliché.

"Smell my hair," she responded dryly.

His head lowered to take a deep breath of her, "That is definitely an improvement on the Flea Shampoo of last week.'

"Don't start with me on that again, they were on me. I could feel them on me," her skin crawled at the mere memory.

He chuckled again, "Whatever you say."

"Don't make us into one of those 'Yes dear,' couples that's worse than the Valentine's Day cliché.

"Max, if I had any response for that aside from laughing, I promise I'd tell you."

"Not funny when they're on you," she explained.

"Still rather amusing watching you bounce around like that," his lips twitched up in a memory of watching her flare about, scratching and tearing at her clothing.

"So we're a 'yes dear,' pointless bickering, clichéd Valentine's Day, stereotypic couple. Wouldn't have guessed that one," she rolled her eyes.

"I've got to admit I like the whole normal couple aspect of our lives. A radioactive city, living with characters that I used to watch on Saturday Mornings, actually considering the sewers...pretty much living a life something I would have watched on tv as a child…"

"Yea come to think of it maybe normal's not so bad and I mean it's not like you have a Valentine's day poem tucked under your pillow."

"That I can promise you we're safe from."

"Really?" she turned up with a look slight heartbreak.

"I've been kind of busy," he tucked her hair behind her ear, "though if you really want one I'm sure I could come up with something."

He USED to write poetry about her.

"There once was a girl from Seattle. Oh how they did fear her in battle-"

She hit him, worse than she had over the flea escapade of the previous week. "It's Valentine's Day and I get battle?"

"Not much rhymes with Seattle," his expression a mixture of contrite and amused.

"This is our first Valentine's Day," she pushed off of him and sat up, "and all I've gotten is a quick roll in the hay, which is almost literal for how this blanket feels, a squished-"

She stopped when something was suddenly shining in her face, dangling from Logan's fingers. "Your mom's locket."

"Which you would have gotten after tonight's dinner," he smirked, "chicken of course and a bottle of cheap champagne, best I could do under the circumstances."

She scrunched up her face as she took it, glad OC hadn't been around to witness this meltdown, but knowing her friend would still get one hell of a laugh when hearing the story, "Rest of the cliché involves a candlelight dinner doesn't it?"

"That it does."

"Okay so do that," she handed it back over.

He laughed again, "Do what?"

"The wrapped up with a pretty bow, dropped into a glass of champagne-"

"That's an engagement ring."

"Whatever do your thing," she smiled and quickly kissed him before bounding to her feet.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," he pointed out.

"I can fake surprise," she shrugged.

"I suppose I could not give it to you," he studied it for a moment, struggling to keep a straight face.

She paused in pulling up her jeans. "I'll sic Original Cindy on you if you try something like that."

"Consider me forewarned," he smirked and moved to get dressed as well. They had been missing for long enough. "Remember telling me showering was romantic?"

"Still is, as is brushing your teeth and you've just experienced how well shaving turns out for you," she smirked.

"So candlelight, dinner, flowers around 9?" he asked as he was pulling on his shoes and she was double checking her appearance.

"Aww you got me flowers?" her entire expression softened.

"I'd save that aww until you see them," he hastily replied.

"It's the thought," she nodded with a continuing smile. "Oh and Logan," she turned back as she was going to leave the room, "you better work on that poem."