Author's notes: Too many euphemisms?! I say not enough! And also, I apologize in no way for Edgar's creepy thoughts. No regrets! -evil laughter-

Paul whimpered as Marko and Dwayne drug him from the chamber where Star's pit lay. He looked like shit. Chunks of hair torn from his scalp, scratches from head to torso oozing blood, a cracked tooth...but his favorite parts were still intact, so he wasn't ready to throw the towel in yet. In fact, the way he saw it...he was just about to get his second wind.

"C'mon, man...I almost got her warmed up!" He protested, trying to pull his shoulders from Marko and Dwayne's grasps. But they were a little stronger than him at the moment, despite the fact that they'd gotten a bit scratched up in the process of saving Paul from himself.

"You're nuts, Paulie," Marko shook his head, highly amused by this whole situation. This was the easiest bet he'd ever won.

"Look, she just needs a bit more alone time with little Paulie, and I'm telling ya, she'll be singing my name!" Paul insisted, trying to dig his heels into the dirt.

"No," Dwayne said simply ending that argument. Paul narrowed his eyes into slits and glared back and forth between the two. "I'm not losing this bet. I'm. Not."

"Shit, look at yourself, Paulie! Another minute in there, and we'd be calling you Pauline!" Marko exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.

"It does have a nice ring to it, though," Dwayne conceded, and Paul growled at him in irritation.

When they reached the lobby, Michael and David were already there, apparently in a heated discussion with each other. They weren't speaking aloud, but they also weren't looking at any of the others. Michael sat on the fountain, smirking, hand propped up under his chin, and David glared at him from his wheelchair. Their eyes were fixed on each other's intently. Dwayne could only imagine what they must be 'talking about'. Either way, it probably wasn't going to turn out too well for Mike if he didn't back off soon.

Michael jerked up, noticing the others as Dwayne and Marko deposited Paul on the couch. He quirked his eyebrows at the sight, "man...you look like shit."

"Thanks," Paul replied dryly.

"No, I really mean it. You're like...have you ever seen an American Werewolf in London? Yeah, you look worse than that guy. Like him...but also like you rolled around in a pile of-"

"Mikey!" Marko guffawed, leaning forward on his knees to try and catch his breath.

Paul groaned and buried his face into a pillow. He may have been all talk before, but there were a few unmentionable places Star did manage to take a few chunks out of, and they were just now beginning to hurt as the healing process set into motion.

"You're back soon," Marko observed, finally regaining his breath as he flopped down beside Paul and shoved the other's booted feet out of the way so he could get more comfortable.

Michael shrugged, glancing over at David, who still looked pretty sour. "Yeah. I guess we did come home pretty quickly. I hope that isn't a disappointment. Wouldn't want to let you dow-"

Just then, David finally snapped and lunged at Michael, jerking him off of the side of the fountain and pinning him to the ground with his arms against his back. Michael coughed, winded, but not entirely surprised. He knew better than to struggle right now, as much as they'd managed to wind David up as a group. He was pushing his luck...but it was worth it, just to piss David off.

"Oh, Davey finished the race early, huh?" Paul rolled his face away from the pillow and smirked, though a little too distracted by his injuries to break out into a full-blown cackle. He was glad they weren't talking about how shitty he looked anymore.

"Forgot to raise the flag for the morning salute?" Marko added mentally, batting his eyes when David gave them both a venomous glare, though he still firmly kept Michael pinned to the ground. The younger vampire was far too amused to let it bother him too much.

"Couldn't pitch his tent for his camping trip, huh?" Dwayne shamelessly joined in, crossing his arms as he sat on the side of the couch. He wasn't afraid of David.

"I'm going to kick all of your asses," David stated calmly. None of them doubted it.

"So...anybody gonna explain what happened to Paul?" Michael thought, partially trying to distract David enough to wriggle out from under him (unsuccessfully), and partially because he was pretty sure he already knew the answer. Horny bastard.

Lucy stirred her coffee slowly, easing back into her wicker chair beside the window of the wraparound porch and smiled out at the sun. It was bright this morning. Nice. She took a sip of coffee and closed her eyes, letting the light wash over her face. A sudden creak interrupted her morning ritual, and she frowned, not opening her eyes.

"Did I say you could move?" She asked, pressing her arms around her coffee cup to let the warmth of it seep into her skin. Standing against the wall, Edgar and Alan sheepishly pressed their noses back into the wood. They'd been standing like this for twenty minutes, and still had twenty minutes to go.

"This is all your fault," Alan whispered to his brother.

"You're the one who thought the baseball bat was a good idea!" Edgar hissed back, indignant.

"...Well, I thought she was Sam..."

"So did I!" Edgar paused. "...This is all his fault. Blonde dork is holding out on us! Something happened on the boardwalk last night, and he's keeping it to himself! We saved his life, and this is how he treats-"

"No talking!" Lucy intoned, taking another sip of coffee. She hadn't been badly hurt, but she'd been startled enough last night when Edgar had tackled her to the ground and Alan tried to swing a baseball bat in her face, expecting to find Sam instead of Lucy Emerson entering the room. Good lord, what could they honestly want to attack her son like that for? It was absolutely insane! Privately, she blamed their parents. No wonder Sam had wanted to sleep in her bed with her last night.

"Uh...Ms. Emerson?" Edgar asked, as meekly as he could manage. It sounded odd, with the general gruffness of his speaking voice.

"What is it, Edgar?" Lucy kept her eyes closed and snuggled into her chair, pulling at her knit blanket slightly so she could cover her knees properly.

"...We're sorry." He had trouble actually saying the words. They didn't come natural. But he really meant it. He'd never hurt Lucy on purpose in a million years. In the few short days he and Alan had been there, it was like...it was like she was some kind of angel. And that ass! Edgar had no idea how amazing a mature woman could look, in the right light, until now.

"Yeah. Sorry." Alan added. Though not as convincingly. He was still giving his brother poisonous 'I blame you' glances every ten seconds. They were practically grown men, and this was how they were treated? It was ridiculous! He felt so stupid. They came back to Santa Carla to fight vampires, to save the city, to defend American justice...or whatever Edgar's speech was about...and here they were with their noses pressed against the wall like a couple of wayward toddlers. All because Sam decided to stay up late and let his mom take the heat for his interrogation session.

"That's nice. After this, maybe you can apologize to Sam for scaring him half to death last night. You know I found him outside my bedroom door at 2 AM, because he was afraid you boys were going to do exactly what you tried pulling on me?" She took another sip of coffee and placed her cup down on a side table so she could lean forward and turn around to look at the Frog brothers.

"I don't even understand...why on earth would you do that? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

Sam nibbled at his bottom lip, listening from the screen door, taking a sip of his orange juice and wondering whether or not he should help the Frogs get out easy. Even if they apparently had been planning to attack him, like he'd suspected, it wasn't like he wanted them to...suffer? Not to mention, they'd only be madder at him later, if he didn't do something to get them out of this. But...then again...it was really funny to watch this. As tough as they always acted, he was struggling to contain a snicker. In fact, it slipped out despite his best efforts.

"Sam," Lucy called her son's name, forcing him to open the screen door and meet her gaze.

"Yeah, mom?"

"Since you think it's so funny to watch your friends, why don't you join them in time-out?" She asked him, picking up her coffee once more.

"...But I didn't do anything! And...I'm almost fifteen!" Sam protested.

Lucy just shook her head and indicated a free spot at the wall on the side of the house. "Maybe next time you won't make fun of others, and especially when they're your friends? Hm?" She pressed her cup to her mouth with a slight smile. She wasn't going to let him out of this.

"Mom!"

"Sam."

"Mom.

"Sam!"

"Mooooooom..."

"MARCH!"

Sam gave a loud sigh, and a partial whine of protest...and reluctantly headed towards the place at the wall she'd pointed out to him, right between the two Frog brothers. Both of them looked in a much better mood, now that they had another cellmate in their porch corner prison. Mom used to be a lot less tough before Michael left.

Edgar glanced at Sam, a half-smirk on his face, and he pointed two fingers at his eyes, then one right at Sam. It was a promise. He didn't even need to look at Alan to know the other Frog would just imitated it. He was always following Ed's lead. And once again, Sam wondered why he was still friends with these nutcases.

"When your time is up together, I want you to sit down and talk out whatever it is that made you decide to attack me last night. Then, you can mow the front and back yard. Then you can give Nanook a bath. And then..." Lucy informed them a list of further chores she expected to be done that day, all the while enjoying her coffee.

Sam was glad they weren't going to move in. If they kept this up, he'd be doing enough stuff around the house to put 'professional housekeeper' on his college resume.

That night, Marko dreamt. And it wasn't pleasant...