Once the muffins were in the oven, Allen slunk away, most likely deciding he would have more success bothering his brother. The baker remained to clean up as much as possible during the baking process, until the countdown neared to completion. Lila was getting anxious, probably from lack of muffins and stimulation. With a promise of giving her a half of a muffin for her to behave herself, he left the kitchen to approach the other boys.

"Muffins?!" Allen exclaimed excitedly.

"They still have a few minutes left," Oliver announced. He eyed Matt tipping precariously on his chair's hind legs. "Would anyone like anything to drink? I can make tea."

"You always make tea, babe."

Oliver grabbed one of Allen's ears and gave it a good tug. Matt furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "Cold tea?"

"What? No!" Oliver released the ear when an arm reached up to clamp on his wrist. "Why would you drink it cold?"

"Because it tastes good?"

The brothers exchanged a blank look. Allen said, "Just get the hot tea, bro."

Siegmund signaled with a ruffled expression.

"He wants milk. I guess I'll try your tea."

Oliver nodded, and set out for the kitchen again. He heard Allen exclaim, "I don't know if you know this, but tea is really good! I mean, not as good as soda..."

His smile puckered as he skittered to a stop in the kitchen, and stared at the mess of sprinkles dumped on the counter. The culprit sat in the middle of the mess of rainbow with a handful of edible beads near her mouth. "Uh...uh...hey, Ollie! What'cha doing?"

"I was going to make tea, but I suppose I have more messier things to up now!"

Lila shot into the air, and any sprinkles clinging to her floral garments bounced onto the counter. "Don't worry about it! I'll clean it up! Make your tea!"

Oliver stuck his fists against his waist. "You mean you'll stuff your face with them while you are supposed to be putting them back into the canister?"

The fairy copied the gesture. "No, because I have to save room for my muffin!"

"Who says you will be getting a muffin?!"

"You did!"

"Only if this mess is cleaned up by the time they are out of the oven!"

As soon as Oliver emerged from the kitchen with his friends' drinks, Allen bellowed, "Muffins!"

"They will be out in a jiffy," the baker claimed, setting each cup in front of their respective owners. Matt swirled the spoon sticking out of his tea in vague curiosity. Oliver quickly pulled away, hurrying to the kitchen.

The fairy shot up from the counter. "Look at what I did! Well, there's nothing on here, but that's because I cleaned it up! I think I'll take my muffin now!"

"Wow!" The teen leaned forward, surveying the light surface for any stray sprinkles. "I suppose you will. I have to get them out of the oven, first." When the tray clattered on top of the stove, he announced, "This will be your only warning; they just came out of the oven."

Lila lowered herself above the tray, and pressed a palm to one of the muffin's tops. "Ow!" She pulled away, and cradled her hand to her chest, betrayed by what she loved most; food. "I guess I have to wait a little while." The muffin Oliver left for her to cool on the counter was almost half her height, but he allowed her to gaze at it fondly while he delivered the rest to his guests.

The boys straightened and watched him approach with various degrees of excitement and hunger on their faces. "Be careful! They are hot!"

They did not care, based on the grab for the treats and the way they shoveled them into their mouths. Allen huffed and swished his hand from the ignored warning. Siegmund dunked his muffin into his milk, smiling as if he were the greatest thinker to exist. When the brunet tried that with his tea, the muffin fell apart, and he gasped in horror at the remaining half. Oliver settled in his seat, and snatched a pastry before his hand was clawed apart. The others ate as if it were their last chance to do so. Sometimes, Matt twitched when an outsider passed the window.

Siegmund threw a half eaten muffin, causing Oliver to tense when the dark blur sailed pass his nose. Allen grunted as it smacked his cheek, crumbling onto the table, and the mute doubled over in violent, but quiet laughter. Even Matt's lips uplifted at his brother's dejected expression. Allen grabbed the mangled treat, and loudly gnashed it between his teeth. "Now you just lost your last muffin. How that feel?!" Siegmund retorted by sticking out his tongue.

Matt cleared his throat, clanking the bottom of his cup on the table. "What was that officer up to?" Somebody kicked his shin from the tangle of feet below. Oliver giggled when Siegmund's leg brushed his to strike Allen near the groin. "Guys!" The blond snapped, and flew to his feet. "I asked a question!"

The merrymaking snapped silent, used to gawk at Matt as if his head exploded. A few dark crumbs fell out of Siegmund's mouth, and bounced on the table. Oliver swished a hand in front of his face, heated from shame. "Excuse us. What were you asking?"

With an audible grind of his teeth, Matt used a moment to cast a glare around the table before taking his seat. "There was a police officer exiting the bakery when we were coming up. He wasn't carrying anything, so if he did not buy something, why was he here?"

The others looked to Oliver for answers. He hesitated by tipping back his cup, and collected his heavy thoughts. "What I say will be something Kuro, Lutz, and Luciano should hear about, so when any of you see any of them, make sure they hear it," he began. The others leaned against the table, looking concerned. "According to the officer, a bunch of blokes are getting weapons."

"What's a bloke?" Allen asked.

"Guys from the House?" Matt rasped, "They always had weapons. Everyone has weapons."

"I know," the baker calmly replied. "That is what was strange. Kids, and everyone else, had always obtained methods of self-protection, but for the law to step up and finally try investigating crime, it is rather alarming."

Siegmund rolled his eyes as his hands fumbled. Matt nodded, "It is stupid, but the best we can do at the moment is lay low while we watch those losers trample around. We can't afford to get tangled with them, and risk getting nabbed by the cops, too."

"What if someone gets hurt?" Allen held a hand to Siegmund. The mute leaned away like he had cooties, and the other teen took it back with a disgruntled look. "They're just gonna keep attackin' us if we let 'em."

"We need to make them not want to attack us," Oliver said, and he dearly wished he did not have to say those words about his neighbor. "Since they like jumping on unsuspecting victims, I suppose we should not go out of the House by ourselves."

Matt shot Oliver a blank look. "I don't think that's the major problem here-"

"Like a buddy system?" His brother perked up, tossing a wicked grin at Oliver.

The baker stuck his mug to his face again, taking a long drag. "You could say that, and make sure you have something to protect yourselves. Even if it is a table lamp you are carrying around, if you can't have somebody with you, and they come after you, give them a whack or two. There's nothing wrong with protecting yourself, as long as you are not on the offensive.

"I know, I sound a bit paranoid," Oliver admitted, and glanced down to his finished tea with a little frown. Before Matt could open his mouth, he said, "However, I rather be crazy and not cut up at the same time." He set a hand on his trousers' pocket. If all else failed summoning-wise, he could jam the stick of chalk in people's eyes, if pulling something out of thin air did not frighten them, first. He jumped slightly when Allen put his palm on the back of his hand, seeping the cold from his skin.

"I know," Matt responded to Siegmund's signing, "but your fists can only go so far without weapons. I'm sure your brother can get Luciano to give you something."

"Ollie? What are you gon' do?" Allen giggled, "Unless you and Bella got an underground bunker full of guns an' bullet proof vests?"

Oliver laughed louder than he should. He slapped his free hand over his mouth as Matt raised his eyebrows at his outburst. The baker cleared his throat, smiling uneasily as his face and neck grew heated. "No, there are no arms around here," if they were not speaking of the ones attached to their shoulders, he was telling the truth. "We do have some awfully large knives in the kitchens."

Matt seemed legitimately piqued. "How well can you handle them? Or smaller ones, even those have some worth."

"I have been cutting fruits and vegetables ever since I started baking with minimal slicing to my own fingers."

Siegmund drew a sharp breath, moving his hands in a rapid motion.

"We are not cooking any fingers," Matt retorted. He faced Oliver. "Cutting food and slicing for defense are two completely different movements."

Oliver glared at the table. "Pardon me for being useless."

"You ain't useless!" Allen announced. "You patched up Lutz pretty good! All teams need a healer, right?"

"I-I suppose..." The baker rubbed his chest, not entirely sure he was even capable of thoroughly defending himself in the heat of the moment, or would wind up punching himself in the eye. He clumsily pulled away from the table, and grabbed the empty muffin tray. "I am going to take care of this."

Without waiting for any reply, Oliver hurried to the kitchen, nicking his hip on the front counter as he bustled by it. A lone muffin sat on the counter, half destroyed to crumbs and small scoops taken from its body. The fairy was nowhere in sight, but if he listened hard enough, he swore he heard faint giggling. Setting the tray in the sink, the boy turned around with his hands on his waist. "I know you are in here."

Still, Lila did not show. Oliver turned to the sink, and began washing what little dishes were left, expecting her to typically sneak up, and try to scare him. She had not popped up even when he was using the dish rag to scrub his hands dry. "What in the world are you up to?"

The giggling must have been coming from one of the cabinets. He ripped a door open, and glared at the ceramic mugs. Even the next cabinet did not hold anything odd besides tartar sauce. Although, those tall spice containers could be shielding a giggling fairy behind them. Oliver went to grab two of them, but one flew from his palm, and made a grand escape to roll onto the floor. The others took to its example, and tumbled to the counter. He took a sharp, angry breath at the tins, "This is not funny anymore, you-!"

Of course Allen took the opportunity to waltz in at the same time he was yelling at food. "What'chu freakin' out 'bout in here, Ollie?"

"Nothing!" Oliver swooped down to grab the fallen containers. He shoved them back into the cabinet unceremoniously, causing some more to try flying lessons. "Just dropping spice tins all over the place! Argh!"

"Babe, babe, chill out-"

A cylinder of salt tumbled onto the floor, diffusing into a mess of white particles. Oliver slammed the other ingredients in his hands onto the counter, and clasped his palms over his eyes. "I cannot deal with this."

"What, a lil' spill?" Allen knelt down to pick up the salt shaker and the cap that decided to roll away and hide underneath the cabinets.

Oliver took his fingers from his face, sniffling, "No, Allen, all this drama about these idiots running around and getting guns of all things? These are other children that have weapons in their pockets, and for what? Are they planning on shooting up the place?!"

The other teen sprung to his feet, and stepped over the salty mess to toss his arms around the baker's sides. "Hey, chill. It's too early to tell yet. They're tryin' somethin' that's fer sure, but all we can do now is brace fer the worse, an' see how things roll out. If we gotta fight 'em so be it!"

Oliver viciously shrugged away, and backed up a few steps with a scowl embedded on his face. "Fight them? Both you and Luciano say the same thing. You really think fighting them is going to make things better?"

Allen's eyes flickered around the kitchen, and he shrugged. "Well, what else are we gon' do? Ask 'em politely to fuck off?"

"We could tell Miss Warden about this! It is her house! I am sure she does not want any lunatics bringing in firearms!"

"Didn't she ever tell you that we gotta deal wit' this kind o' shit on our own? I mean, that's what she told us, but I'm not sure if she told you the same thing-"

"She did, but this is not a minor disagreement. Lives are at stake. People could get killed!"

Allen drew closer to him, voice dropping to a nearly frightened growl, "Ollie, she'd get the police here. We can't take that chance."

"Why? What are the police really going to do? We are innocent."

"Ha-ha, maybe you are, but if they get even the smallest hint we're stirrin' up stuff, they're gon' be on us like flies on shit. Sorry, Ollie, but there's a whole lot of us in there that don't got nice things to say 'bout the cops. Hey, didn't cops take away your ma?"

"That is different." Oliver remained tense as ever as his company crept forward to squeeze his biceps. "Not only has that time come and pass, but we can stop someone from dying or getting seriously injured before it can even happen."

"You gotta listen, babe!" Allen gave him a little shake, and the baker clenched his teeth. "If it were just you and that Crookedface fella, I'd be all fer callin' the squad or whatever, but it ain't like that. This is too big, and too involved to get anyone else into this. We gotta deal wit' it on our own."

Oliver raised his hands that were balled at his sides, and pushed Allen on the shoulders. "Fine. I put my ideas on the table, but if you idiots want to dive into the fray and get yourselves hurt, then go ahead. I cannot stop you."

"Hey!" Matt's head popped into view. "Siegmund wants to go back...Uh...What's up?" He glanced between his brother steadily glaring at Oliver, while Oliver had his arms crossed, and scorned the floor. "You know what, forget I said that. Allen, you going home with us?"

Without releasing his scalding gaze, Allen said, "Yeah, I'm right behind ya."

Matt shrugged, and ducked out of the kitchen without saying anything else.

"You gon' come wit' us?"

"No. I have to stay and watch over Bella."

"She can take care of herself, Ollie."

"Just go home to the rest of them, Allen."

Allen audibly ground his teeth. "We don't want to do it. It's somethin' we gotta do."

"Whatever," Oliver snapped, flushing redder out of anger. "You go out and punch a few twats in the face, but I am getting no part in it."

The kitchen was silent for a few breaths, until Allen stuck a hand to his mouth, and had the audacity to snicker. "You..."

"What." Oliver seethed, "What could be possibly funny about this whole situation?"

"Nothin' is really funny, it's just that..." Allen glanced to his shoes, but when the baker looked down, too, he slung his arms around his shoulders while Oliver's arms were still crossed, making for an odd embrace. Oliver clenched his fists further, but only gotten more red in the face as his company planted his lips from his cheek to his ear. "I'm really glad you said that. Keep safe, y'know?"

Suddenly, he was left to stand alone by the counter, gazing at the other boy's retreating back in disbelief. "What...you just said..." Oliver put his hand to his cheek, and the front door groaned as it shut, leaving him to stew in his thoughts and feelings. He tersely concluded, "I am never going to understand that idiot."

Somewhere, in a deep hidden recess within the kitchen, he swore he heard giggling again.