Spring cleaning arrived after, even though Spring had not technically started yet, but Oliver felt like he had waited long enough. It took him a week of fighting himself, and even Lila, when she offered her output on her occasional visits, on what to throw away. The shelf with ceramic kittens on each of tier was definitely a keeper, but the fake plants were just dust collectors. The old bed was the first to go, and he invited Matt and Siegmund on a luncheon, tricking them into putting his new one together for a free meal. Just as the mute seemed to feel better from his partner's persistence, the new frame was cruel to rip that away with a pinched thumb.

When the blond had his back to him, Siegmund grabbed a spare instruction manual and scribbled, 'Can you heal it with that chalk circle thingy?! It really hurts.' He even added a sad face.

Oliver had written back, pointing at Matt struggling with a stubborn bolt, 'Kisses make boo-boos feel better.'

None the less, the apartment had began to become less like the old styles of Anabella's doing, and more like the modern yet light décor from Oliver. Louis would stop in, fret over the dramatic changes, and rank up the place with his cigarettes and cheap perfume. The baker bought an ash tray for the man, but that proved to be more annoying than he imagined.

"Quoi? You are buying me something? It almost appears that you want me here."

"I never said that," Oliver sharply dissented. "It is so that you no longer stink up my trash bins."

Despite his lame insistence, the baker refused to step above anything but banter. Of course, some lowly part of him liked the temptation to escape his loneliness, but he immediately squashed those thoughts with ones of Allen returning, only to find him with another man! If, even though Oliver loathed to think it, he never did return, he supposed he would consider, and only consider being more accepting of Louis' company. In the wait, however, he would avoid to induce unnecessary drama with himself in the middle.

Every crevice of the flat was explored, and Oliver was glad for the effort. One day, even the group of his girl pals hunted for something sweet to eat, and helped excavate that awful storage room his former boss had built up over the years. He did not have to try hard at all in persuading them; they eagerly jumped in when they asked what he was doing after he moved on from the House.

The teen answered honestly, "I am doing a bit of clearing up of some of that junk Bella hoarded. There are so many things a woman could have-"

"We aren't doing anything!"

Oliver grinned all the way up the stairs as they followed him.

Other days, Oliver could think to himself, by himself. If he did not reach and grab that suspicious can in the back of the food cabinet, he would still have a three year old container of canned ham in his possession. Although the apartment was not the largest dwelling, the bakeshop, and even the basement added cleaning time to Oliver's schedule. Between baking, delivering for Nikolai, cleaning, sometimes entertaining old friends from the House (even Flavio stopped in one day with trouble of deciding what scarf to wear), and the trips to meet a good friend in the Realm of Spirits, the days quickly zipped along, and before he knew it, a special day came for him.

The kitchen was illuminated by a lone candle, standing from the light pink icing of a confetti cupcake. It was Oliver's favorite kind of treat; him and the fairy that perched on his head gazed at it fondly. Lila broke the silence with a made up tune, "It's a birthday! It's who's birthday? It's your birthday! Yahoo!"

The boy giggled.

Lila urged, "Blow out the candle!"

"Oh, right." The room was plunged into darkness.

"I got it! The kitchen suddenly brightened with the fairy pushing up the light switch with a great heave. She immediately shot to Oliver's head again. "How old are you again? Twenty-five?"

"Not even close!" Oliver picked up the cupcake, and began peeling away its wrapper. "Seventeen."

"I was close!" Lila danced in his hair a bit. "Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie!"

Oliver offered her an icing covered sprinkle, which his friend eagerly snatched.

"Are you going to see Arthur again tonight?"

"It is our shared birthday, so I would say yes!"

"Wow!" Munch, munch. "I hope he has the same plans!"

"Great minds think alike!"

"You got that from him!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Ow! Ow! Stop pulling my hair! All right, I did get it from him!"

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

In the Realm, Oliver and Lila waited in the usual flower patch for his look alike to emerge from the green forest. Tuned to the outer seasons, the other fairies left the plants to their own devices, to nurse others in different 'warmer' areas. The flowers were wilted, but somehow still retained their beauty in their quiet death.

Lila kept two neighboring flowers alive, and their stalks had twisted with one another by then. "Pretty, pretty, pretty!" It was a sore amongst the others, but Oliver left her to her own silliness.

His surroundings suddenly turned black, and he gasped against wool. "Who is it?"

"You know who." The fabric vanished, and Arthur took his place beside him amongst the drooped flowers. "Happy Birthday, Oliver."

"What?" Oliver said with a doped grin.

"Happy Birthday," Arthur repeated.

"Is that another wacky thing your people say?"

His look alike pulled his 'magic' robe over his legs. "It is not wacky..."

"I guess not! Happy Birthday!"

"Yay!" Lila cheered from amongst the grayed stalks.

Arthur managed a small smile. "How was your day? Did you do anything?" A suggested wiggle of the thick eyebrows, "Have a little fun?"

"After finally finishing all that moving and cleaning of my flat, I took the whole day off," Oliver announced, proud. "Of course, I baked myself a confetti cupcake for dessert."

"Of course! Did you get any presents?"

Oliver gazed at his look alike in wonder. "Why would I? From who?"

"Your friends!" Arthur said, as if it were obvious. He smacked a palm to his head. "Damn, I nearly forgotten. Things don't run that way at your place."

"Why do you get presents just for getting older?"

"I have no idea, to be honest. It may be an excuse to celebrate. Parties are fun."

"It was still lovely, presents or not. Did you have a party?"

"My mum put together a small get together, and some of the blokes I talk to at school came over and had cake."

"Presents?" Oliver asked with a playful nudge.

Arthur returned the gesture with an equally bony elbow. "I got the newest album of my favorite band on CD. I know, it is a little retro, but I do not care. The disks beat downloading all that possibly junk quality music. Oh, and some money, too."

"Music," the baker wistfully sighed. "I wonder about that sometimes. I always have to create my own tunes."

"You do not have to," his look alike swished a hand. "Since you did not get anything...and I was thinking a lot about this for a while now, but would you like to listen for yourself?"

Oliver gave his head a little shake. "How do you suppose that would happen?"

Arthur pinched his own fingers in a nervous gesture. "Y-you could listen to it through my ears. Since it is my birthday, too, your present to me could be me going to your place, and seeing what the fuss is about, if you are up t-"

"Yes! Please, please, yes!" Oliver almost tackled his friend.

"Hey!" Lila put her hands on her hips, floating up from the grass. "I don't remember when my birthday is, and I never get presents!"

"You can come with me," the baker let out a low squeal with a kick of his legs. "This is exciting! How do we go about this?"

"W-well, I am not absolutely certain. My tomes are rather vague of the ordeal. It is not a common occurrence."

"Let's make it common!"

"Right!" Arthur sprung to his feet, urging Oliver to do the same. "I awaken in the middle of that forest, so if you go there, and lay down, perhaps it will be easier to reach my plane."

Oliver jabbed a quivering arm up the blue-green slope. "There is a twisted tree trunk that way where I wake up."

The other teen nodded, but did not make a move. "I suppose an overnight stay is fine for the first time?"

"Do we stay up through the night, or spend the whole day in one another worlds?"

"Good question." Arthur put his hand to his chin. Oliver unknowingly copied the gesture. Lila purposely paralleled it. "Let's do the whole day, and the next night, we will see how it went."

The fairy cried, "What if something happens?!"

They looked at her with unamused stares. Arthur claimed, "That is the joy of magic! It is a surprise every time!"

"Maybe Dark magic," Oliver giggled. "If you do not mind, I will be going now."

"You know what to do, right? No swimming!"

"Yes, yes." Oliver playfully rolled his eyes, but then gasped, "Do not burn down my kitchen!"

"As long as you do not freak out my Mum!"

"Be careful with the coal tars!"

"Stay away from that small park down the road!"

"Do not eat anything from the downstairs fridge! It is for the bakery!"

Lila snapped, holding her arms to both boys, "We get it! You guys talked about your worlds how much? As long as you know how to act human, then I'm sure you will be fine."

"Next night," Arthur offered his hand.

Oliver accepted it with a quick wag. "See you on the other side."

The fairy laughed in loud delight, zipping after Oliver as he ran to his destination, unable to contain his excitement, either. When he glanced over his shoulder, he spotted Arthur eagerly scrambling up the slope. The trees turned from having blue tips on the edges of their leaves, to a full, luxurious jade. Apparently, the plants in his up and coming visit were of the like, as bizarre as that sounded!

He flopped where he inferred to be the middle of the forest, on a patch of bleach white dirt. Lila knocked the breath out of herself from landing hard beside his head. They shared a giggle fit with one another before closing their eyes. The environment had a different, lighter tingle to it, and Oliver found it easy to be lured to it.

"Arthur! Arthur!" A distant thump made him twitch. His deep breath skittered to an impressive snort, and he shot to a sitting position.

"Whoa..." Oliver held his hands out, getting a grip on the new, but familiar feeling of consciousness. He furrowed his eyebrows, blinking the bleariness from his eyes to stare at the back of his hands. They were clean from the storm of freckles that riddled his own. He must have successfully reached Arthur's world, based on the unfamiliar room. The entire gray walls were littered with posters of what he guessed to be celebrities and spooky décor. "Wow!" His voice broke when he tried speaking. "Agh."

"Arthur!" The door shook with a fist pounding against it. "It is nine o' clock!" The sharp voice sounded again. "Wake up!"

Oliver tried again in a lower, less bouncy pitch, "I'm...I'm awake."

"Finally. Hurry up. Breakfast is waiting."

A lighter tone bubbled from the pillow, "Ooh, food." Oliver twisted around, grinning deviously at Lila. She flew from the cushion to hover before his face. "Ollie?"

"Yep!"

"Wow! It's you...but not! I'm totally getting your 'you' vibes from Arthur's body. It's so weird!"

"This whole instance is weird!"

"Come on! That must be Arthur's mother calling for him."

Oliver slung his legs from the bed, glancing down to his tee shirt and boxers. "Has he heard of pajamas before?" Opting to ignore the cool air clutching onto his legs, he slowly opened the bedroom door, and peeked outside. A hall ran to more doors, and the other end opened to a living room. "Wait a tic..." He ambled onto the carpet, squishing the painfully familiar material between his bare toes. "This..."

"It's your old house," Lila murmured, hesitating to settle into a head of yellow-blond hair. "The colors are wacky!"

Oliver hurried to the window behind the couch, and argued with the curtains a bit before revealing the front yard. "Oh...oh. It is so green!"

"Ollie, the sky! The sun is yellow!"

"Do not look at it!"

"Arthur!"

Oliver gasped, and slipped away from the couch. An equally blond woman put her hands on her hips. "Your breakfast is going to get cold."

"Mum?!" The boy blurted, gawking at pigtails running to her waist, so familiar, so different. He crept closer, earning a concerned look from her. If she was the same build as his own mother, that meant Oliver stood eye to eye with Marionette in height.

"What?" Green eyes behind glasses widened. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Oliver pressed his lips in a thin line to prevent grinning so stupidly. He breezed around her, and took in the sight of hot cakes topped with red strawberries, of all things! The teen tried to mimic Arthur's more heavier movements by falling into his seat, sighing loudly. His mother joined him, picking at her own food.

"Yahoo!" Lila called to her. The woman did not spare a glance to her. "Hey! Can you hear me? Oliver, she isn't listening!"

Arthur's mother softly cleared her throat, causing Oliver to glance up momentarily before dropping his gaze to his meal. The less he would speak to her, the better chance he had staying inconspicuous. However, he had to know, "What are we doing today?"

"What do we do every Sunday?"

Oliver had no idea. "Oh?"

"Make sure you wash your face and change into your suit."

Lila shuffled almost angrily in his hair. "Suit? Are we going to be fancy?"

"Uh, yes, Mum."

"Go," she said after Oliver cleared his plate. "I will get it."

Oliver opted to keep quiet, not knowing how to reply. Arthur hardly spoke of his mother. All the baker knew was that they lived together by themselves because their father walked out on them. Perhaps that was how it was; two people living under one roof, simply because they have to. It brought thoughts of missing his own mother back for a plaguing moment. He found his old room again, and skipped the facial wash, opting to throw open Arthur's closet doors.

His fairy friend reacted verbally first. "Yikes!"

"So much black!" Oliver hissed, trying to keep his voice down. He grabbed the hem of the closest shirt, and squeezed the soft material. "I suppose these are all bands?"

Lila snickered, "Look at the other side."

The teen did, and performed a double take. Completely different vests and dress shirts hung from the center pole. Ties were on a rail between the two selections. "I guess you never know somebody until you walk in their shoes." Oliver glanced down to the footwear, but did not notice anything too different, until he pushed some pants back, and let out a low whistle. He pulled out knee high, jet black biker boots.

"Woo! That's more like it!" The baker did not need to see her to know Lila was wearing her infamous grin.

Gently putting the dazzling shoes back where they should be, Oliver reached for 'suit' criteria. "What, Arthur never heard of bowties? They are very fashionable."

"Ties are nice, too!" Lila pointed to a lighter blue garment.

When Oliver sauntered out of his bedroom to nonchalantly show of to his (Arthur's) mother, she tipped her head in confusion. "Arthur, dear, that is your 'meeting the Queen' suit."

"It looks dashing, though," the teen claimed.

He managed to get a warming smile from the woman. She gave his lapels a sharp tug. "You look like a handsome young man." When he made a snooty noise that said without words, "I know! Tell me about it," her eyes narrowed in the slightest.

That day drew to a close too quickly. Oliver's bedtime interrupted his discovery of rock music, browsing free art on the Internet, and gazing at the odd colors. Lila flopped onto the pillow, ready to return to her own awakening. It must have been radically different from his look alike's schedule, since Arthur's mother softly rapped on the door. "What?" He called out to her.

Rosa, as he learned was her name from fellow church goers, opened the door, to peer into her son's askew bedroom. "Arthur, are you not well?"

"What makes you ask that?"

She neared the bed, and settled on the edge. The springs squeaked worse than Anabella's old mattress. Oliver scooted away from her, pretending to be disturbed from a mother's overbearing proximity. Rosa lifted a slender hand to brush blond bangs back and feel his forehead. She let out thoughtful hum, "You are in bed so early. If you wanted to lay down, why didn't you tell me? You can talk to me if you don't feel good."

"Uh, yeah, I will."

Lila giggled, and in turn, heat of embarrassment nipped at Oliver's cheeks.

Rosa straightened, pulling away from the teen, and made her way to the door. She gripped the shiny knob, and turned to gaze at him. "You may, but I know my son wouldn't."

Oliver lifted his head, heart leaping. "Mum, what are you talking about?"

"You know what," Rosa said. "That fairy on your head has been blabbering all day. Make sure you send Arthur his way tonight. Goodnight, Oliver."

The door clicked behind her. Both bedroom occupants were stunned silent.

A.N.- Rosa- Nyo!England. Many people dub her Alice, but I like that name to go to nyo!Veneziano instead.