"Hey!"

"Hey," Oliver relayed to his look alike, awkward compared to Arthur's warm greeting.

Arthur grimaced, his expression turning frazzled. "What happened?"

"Your mum found me out."

Lila spoke up before the blond could flip out, "She was pretending all day, and just before we went to bed to come here, she spilt the beans!"

"You're kidding!" When neither Oliver nor Lila revealed that they were kidding, Arthur sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you have a good time at least?"

Oliver crossed his arms. "I have you know, I have never experienced such a foul thing such as this 'Church' before."

"W-well, yes, it is dreadfully boring-"

"The rest was wonderful, Arthur," the baker said more sincerely, and smiled with it, too. "The colors, the music, oh, it is everything you spoke of and more. Even the mini-mart cashier! I had a lovely conversation with the bloke! Can you believe he actually asked me how my day was?"

"Wow, he did?"

"That was sarcasm, wasn't it?"

"He asks me everyday."

The look alikes shared a short fit of laughter. "And you?" Oliver asked. "Was it all right at least?"

"It was much better than I thought it would be. You spoke so down on everything, that I was expecting someone to jump from the ceiling and stab me in the throat. I tended to avoid conversation with the townies after some idiot blew me off when I asked where the bakery was. I sort of gotten a tad lost when I was walking around town, but everything turned out to be fine."

Oliver clasped his hands together, dancing on his toes. "Oh, I listened to your music!"

"Ah, yes, the music. How did you like it?"

"I loved it!"

Arthur was taken back at his loud answer. "You did? I did not know punk rock was to your tastes!"

"I do not have much taste in music, since there is little to try in my place."

"Yes, yes, that. I did notice it was very quiet, very reserved. Your world seemed like some place I would go if I needed a relaxing vacation from the annoyance of mine."

"Well, if you ever want to do that again, feel free to tell me!" Oliver then added, "Please!"

"Trust me, I will!"

~.~

~BOING!~

~.~

However, flash a year forward at the exact time, the look alikes were less optimistic about the ordeal. Oliver had weaseled to admit he ran a courier system, and Arthur was that punk wallflower in his school. Not deterred, they still kept jumping in one another worlds, but the sparkle had faded, and it was mostly used to past the time for the blond. Oliver still felt the thrill of music and the openness of strangers. He forgot the last time he tried to have a conversation with someone of his world outside the bakery!

"What do you mean 'no?'"

"I say no, because I mean no! I am not letting you run amuck in my world anymore!"

Oliver gasped, gripping the blue-green grass in his fists. "Why not? I was not running amuck! I am not some madman or deranged criminal!"

"You could have fooled me!" Arthur spat. "I am sick of those ungodly fellows on your end."

"I already told you, homicide is not as a big deal in my place as it is yours. As long as you do not get caught..."

"I don't care. I do not want anything to do with it anymore."

The baker tightly crossed his arms, glaring at the dead flowers. "Does this have to do with me kissing Matthew?"

"Of course it does!"

"I thought it was his brother! I cannot help that they look so alike on your end!"

"It does not matter! You should have not done it! Things and relationships are different between our people!"

"W-well, maybe it should not be!"

"No," Arthur growled, also not baring to look to his doppelgänger. "This was supposed to be a fun little experience, not a whole life changing activity. I did not dramatically change anything with your life! You have no right changing mine."

Oliver weakly protested, "You were the one to bring up the idea to switch!"

"Yes, and I am the one that is ending it. Go home, and stop bugging me about it."

"You have buildings with paintings on display, and vehicles that play music! People smile back at you on the streets!"

"I do, but that is my world." Arthur repeated, "People should not run amuck where they do not belong."

Oliver leaned away when Arthur pushed off the grass. His eyes started to sting from the stress pounding on his head. "Arthur, please-"

"Do not beg," the blond seethed. He stopped marching back to his forest, and glanced over his shoulder, looking almost remorseful. "You want to keep doing this so bad?"

"Why, yes-"

Just as Oliver started to brighten, Arthur spun around with a finger jabbed at him. "You will have to fight me for it!"

"I can do that!"

Oliver's eighteenth birthday was spent in his dark living room, cramming a dozen of cupcakes down his throat. "I couldn't do it," he whined to Lila, who visited for the sake of the supposed 'special' day.

"Ollie, stop. That is your seventh cupcake you stuffed your face with." Lila pulled the plastic plate that held the other treats away from him, but a hand clamped on the other edge, thwarting her attempts. "Binging will only add a tummy ache to your loss."

"I should have known!" The baker wailed, and tossed his hands over his eyes before flopping against the couch cushions. "He would have not asked me to fight if he doubted he would lose!"

"You know, you could have simply walked away, and woke up," Lila muttered, dragging a finger into one of the cupcake's sloppy icing. "Light magic is not used for fighting, dummy."

Again, he moaned, "I should have known!"

The fairy flinched from the ugly wail. "You did know that! You were just blinded by your anger and greed. Look what happened! Take responsibility for your loss!"

"I don't wanna," Oliver curled up, wrapping his arms around his torso. "Ooh, my tummy is achy."

"That is also your fault." Lila pointed out. She huffed when Oliver's back did not reply to her. "Okay, sir, I'll let you mope for a couple of hours, because it was a good thing to lose, but after that, you have a bakery to run!"

Oliver did not make a move to respond, and even when Lila let him an extra hour to weep, whether he deserved it or not, he was in the same position. The fairy lightly landed on the side of his head, seeing that his eyes were closed. "Ollie? It is pass the middle of the day."

The body sobbed, "He was so cute as a blond, too!"

Lila flew into the air, disturbed by the low whining sounds and the shivering. "I am going to pluck your hair out if you do not get up!"

"No, you will not," Oliver grumbled, unfazed. He felt small hands shuffle through his rich locks, and lightly tug. "Stop. Don't do that. Ow!" One of his hands clamped on the back of his head when she yanked out a few strands from their roots.

"I told you, and I am not stopping until you get off the couch!"

"Stop!" The man whined again, swatting blindly at the air. Lila was too quick, and he did not catch anything. Even when he set his hands on his head, trying to cover as much hair as possible, the fairy was small, and his openings were big. "All right!" He spat, scrambling to a sitting position. His head whirled from the fast movement, but agitation was much more animating than moping.

"There we go!" Lila settled on her usual perch, earning a flinch from her might.

"You are pleased with yourself," Oliver growled, rubbing the grit from his bleary eyes.

"That I am!" As if they were reigns, the fairy pulled on some auburn strands. "Come on! You still have to put on your day clothes!"

"Yes, mother," the teen grumbled, rising to his feet. Customers trickled in from the warm Spring weather, giving him a sense of normality with his baking. Oliver wondered if he could ever give up the bakery, and his peaceful life away from the rough world he grew up in, but did not voice his concerns to Lila, who would only gloat about his doubt.

Apparently, he was not completely back to himself, since she tossed her hands in the air after the last customer shuffled out the door. "Grumpy gums! This is getting to you too much!"

"Who says? I am allowed to be sad." He lost a friend, after all, from his own stupidity.

"I said!" Lila pointed out, "You only had a taste of that other world. You lived here eighteen years now, and act like it is the worse place to be! You could fall into a volcano! That would be bad!"

"So, you are saying I should be happy, because I am not close to any active volcanoes?" Oliver managed a very short, dry laugh from her antics. She smiled, and looked up at his face from the counter with pleading hope. "Lila, there were stand up singers, museums just for art, and encouragement for being creative and kind!"

"Uh, hello!" Lila shot up to knock a fist on his forehead. "You do have that silly! All in here! Sure, art and literature and even basic mannerisms are not popular around here, but that doesn't mean they are nonexistent! Make some of your own! Advertise!"

"It would be nowhere close..."

"It would be a step in that direction. There are people out there that would enjoy it. They are just waiting for others to admit it."

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

Some time later, be it days or a couple of weeks, it was easy hours, although uneventful. A towering man entered the bakery, smiling a closed smile from ear to ear as he drew up to the front counter. Oliver slowly craned his head up from his newspaper, shocked how quickly someone his size could move. Shutting the catalogue he was browsing, the baker stammered, "H-how may I help you?"

The other man's cheerful expression fell into one of a puzzled pout. "Do you not recognize a common company?"

Oliver glanced down to the pale hand that pet a dark scarf wound around his neck, and his voice sent an unpleasant chill down the baker's spine. "You are almost a completely different person without your surgeon scrubs, Nikolai."

Nikolai quietly giggled in delight. "Would you make me something rich? I am trying to lure little ones to do my bidding."

"Not if you put it that way."

"No, this is getting very dangerous to do." Nikolai dropped his smile for a more narrow look. "I did not know if you have been reading the papers, but the many disappearances of the town's civilians have been getting what they say, 'Off the charts.' If this continues, you may find the police knocking on your doors."

"Great," Oliver nodded, then scowled. "They cannot find out about our secret. That is where I get most of my money!"

"As do I. All these young boys go after anyone and everyone. It would be easier for the police to find us with bright neon arrows pointing in our direction!"

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

Nikolai eyed the paper Oliver was reading. The front page was littered with pictures of missing people. "Get people who will not be missed. That is what you have to do."

"Criminals," Oliver blurted.

A smile lit up the operator's round face again. "Yes! Kill the killers, and I am certain no one will mind. I know I would not, as long as I get my guts."

Oliver bobbled his head. "I will look through this again more thoroughly," he promised. "When I find something worthwhile, you will know."

"Good stuff! In the meanwhile, I will look for new faces!"

"Oh? What happened to the previous pair?"

His company turned away, lowly snickering, "Loose lips sink ships, little one, so before we would go under, I sent them on a nice...long undersea voyage." He craned his head so Oliver could see a finger to his lips. The baker did not feel surprised at the pleased crinkle around his pale red eyes. "Fun for all of us."

"I can tell. Just make sure the next ones know what they are in for."

"I will send them to you, so you can send them out."

Oliver let out a heavy sigh when the front door clamped shut behind Nikolai. He uncertainly picked up the newspaper. The same faces on the surgeon's table, bodies marked and covered in blood in some sort of way, were staring back at him. He jumped on the idea of seeing the faces in the news that he would be glad to see 'missing,' but not missed.

With the previous boys leaving too many countless mistakes behind, Oliver wanted to start the new ones with something (someone) easier. A convenience store burglar, twice offending, was just freed from serving his time in jail. He may have not been a murderer, but he was a nuisance. The baker wrote down the details available about the criminal, and cut out the printed picture for the hunters.

He sealed the sheets in a manila folder, and held it from himself as if it were a great accomplishment. Perhaps it was, to scrub the stains from Anabella's past, since killing killers was certainly better than offing random passersby in his eyes. Oliver only had to wait for Nikolai to send in the new additions, and their plan would be set off.

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

"Sprinkles!"

"We are not adding sprinkles."

"But...sprinkles!" Was Lila's argument. She pushed the cylinder of dull colored pastels over, and rolled it to Oliver's most recent batch of cupcakes.

"Did they request sprinkles?" Oliver flipped the container upright, and set it back to its original spot. "No, so these will not have sprinkles on them."

Lila cried, jumping on the plastic lid, "What's a cupcake without sprinkles?!"

"That is easy. It would be a cupcake without sprinkles."

"That's horrible."

"You have had plenty of cupcakes without sprinkles."

"This is for a little boy's birthday, Ollie! Kids love sprinkles!"

Oliver let out a nervous grunt as he felt his resolve crumble. "You know how picky some people are. She may have not said anything about them because she did not want any."

"If some lady is going to cry about sprinkles being on cupcakes," Lila struggled, but managed to flip the plastic lid back, revealing the store of rainbow bits, "we can point and laugh."

"We can, but that would be inappropriate." Oliver snatched the canister, and gripped the plastic as he shook it over the icing. The fairy lunged for one of the sprinkles that bounced onto the counter, revealing her true intentions. "Instead, we will keep a straight face if or when she complains."

The bell on the front counter rung out. Lila pushed the lid back on the sprinkle container, grinning wickedly. "It must be hard for you to keep a straight face."

"I do not know what you are implying, and I am not sticking around to find out." Oliver folded the lid to the box of cupcakes before breezing into the front room. His steps slowed in confusion, expecting the mother and her child that ordered the cupcakes to be waiting on the other side of the counter, not three men staring back with equally shocked expressions. He set the box on the counter, his gaze jumping among them. "I...it is nice to see you three are still holding out with one another, despite all this time."

The front door opened before any of them could reply. A woman and a little boy came up to the counter. "I'm here for a pick up of a dozen of vanilla cupcakes."

"I have your order, ma'am." Oliver glanced down to the small child gazing up to him, his eyes just making it over the counter. "I added a little something just for you."

The child giggled and grabbed onto his mother's skirt to hide his face. The woman scrunched her eyebrows together, and peeled off the lid. "The sprinkles?"

Oliver nodded, flashing a bright smile. "Happy Birthday, little one."

The mother was lost for a moment, but managed to fix the lid and lift the box from the counter, having already paid when she requested the order. Lila fluttered from the kitchen, and rested on Oliver's head as he watched the pair leave. "That reminds me of you and Marionette. Oh, hey, Ollie, it's-"

"You're still in the baking business, I see," a high voice broke his stare. Oliver turned to the trio, catching small changes the period of absences did to them.

"You are still short, I see," Oliver easily relayed.

Luciano's eyes narrowed like a threatened feline's. "No, Lutz got tall, and he is making me look short in comparison."

Tall, and scary built, apparently. The blond suggested, in an age deepened voice, "If you want short, look at Kuro."

Kuro shot both of his companions a glare that could cause death. "Refrain from adding me to your spats."

Oliver giggled at the nostalgic feelings blooming in his bakery. "What brings you three here? I do not suppose you are hungry?"

"Nikolai sent us," Luciano claimed. "Will that be enough clarification?"

"You three?" Oliver raised his eyebrows, eyes wide. He had to agree with Lila's little "Wow." "Do you know what kind of business I run here?"

"Underground or your cover up? Or both? Really, Oliver, that old lady was always suspicious."

"To you," the baker grumbled. Bella was a dear friend. He shook his head, and folded his hands under his chin to focus on the current subject. "Did Nikolai fill you in what you have to do, or what you should not do?"

Luciano said, "We have a basic idea."

Lutz coughed, awkwardly putting in, "Are we offing people you have a grudge on?"

"Would you mind if it was like that?"

The trio exchanged amused looks. Luciano shrugged, "No, as long as we get paid."

"Yes, if you manage to get the target, bring their body back to the basement, and do not leave a bloody, literally bloody, trail for the cops to sniff, then yes, you will be rewarded. Richly rewarded."

Based on the glint in their eyes, they believed it was going to be worth being told what do by one of their former Housemates. "We consider ourselves employed, then!"

Oliver grinned, slapping his made up folder on the counter. "Of course. It is...refreshing to see you again, so soon, too." He tipped his head, and Lila automatically adjusted. "Wait a tic, Lutz, are you even eighteen yet? How come you are out of jail?"

It was Luciano's turn to lightly snoot as he took the envelope. "Grandpa's bail money. Kuro and I passed our birthdays in the meantime, so they released us. We're under watch, of course, but what does that really mean with this town's police?"

"Oh?" Oliver perked against the counter. "I-is there anybody else that was captured that had gotten released?"

"Not that I know of. All the others are there where they belong. It is a shame they have not gotten the one that started it all. Has he been causing trouble since we have been gone?"

"Not that I know of," Oliver sighed. "I have been living away from the House for more than a year now, but you should not start any, either."

The Italian rolled his eyes, but his expression was too lit up to be mean. "We will try to be careful."

"Seriously, Luciano. The last pair of hunters met a cruel demise from their carelessness. This is not about squishing ants on the concrete."

"We know what we are about," Luciano claimed, turning to the door. He barked to his pals, "Come!"

Oliver stared at their backs, and let out a weak breath. "Nobody else, huh?"

"Not yet!" Lila chirped.

He felt stupid for his heart picking up to an excited beat.