"The fresh air will clear you up real fine!"

"Ugh!" Oliver did not appreciate the 'fresh air.' "It's hot!"

"It's summer, babe. Come on, you wanna go back to the bakery?"

"Yes, please!" Lila said. Oliver's head bobbled up and down. A coal tar buzzed by his face, and hissed when the fairy stepped up to swat at it. "Get back!" Her friend only giggled at her turmoil of the thing being nearly the same size as her.

"This is takin' too long," Allen decided when the other man only made it to the corner of the street before nearly stumbling over. He stepped in front of Oliver, and knelt down. According to plan, the baker tripped from the sudden maneuver, and his arms slung around his shoulders. Not giving him a chance to slip away, he latched onto Oliver's legs, and hoisted him around his back. "Don't puke over me."

"I like...I like my whisky too much," Oliver sighed, and pressed his face against Allen's collar.

"You're a handful. Next time, we're gon' take a nice lil' walk in the park, or get somethin' to eat...away from alcohol!"

"Allen," another fierce storm of giggles racked Oliver's chest. "Are you asking me on another date?"

Lila shot the duo a dark look, flying along side of their slow gait. Allen was quiet for a few steps, his eyes on the cracks and lines running through the concrete. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." He adjusted his grip around Oliver's legs when the baker scrabbled for purchase, and whined about not wanting to fall. Several passersby from across the street pivoted their heads to their trail. "The fuck you lookin' at?" He hissed, probably to himself. Louder, he groaned, "Aw man, what's Bella gon' say when I bring you back drunk off your ass?"

"Allen," Lila murmured. She was about to tell him the grave news, but clamped her mouth shut, knowing it would be a waste of breath.

Oliver tried for her. "She's...she is not going to say anything...hic, 'cause she's dead!"

"What? You're kiddin'! How'd that happen?"

"Like this," Oliver picked up his head, only to flop it to the side. "Bleh."

"Ollie, that's an awful joke."

He pitifully heaved, "I know!"

"Fine then. What would your momma say to you, gettin' yourself drunk like this? Or is she dead now, too?"

"I don't know," Oliver slurred. "It's your fault, you silly..."

"Yeah, I kinda figured." The stripes of the bakery's awning were now in view, pink and blue easily eye catching from down the street. "Hold on, baby, we're almost there."

"Ugh, I want to die. Everything is so awful. Everyone's so awful."

"No, it ain't! Have you ever seen puppies? They aren't awful."

Oliver giggled again, his legs kicking out from the arms curved around them. He clamped his hand onto Allen's forehead, fluffing up the red-brown hair beneath his palm. "Fuzzy puppy!"

Allen stepped in front of the bakery door, squinting at the lights shining on the tiled floors. "Where your keys at?"

"What?"

"Your keys!"

"Don't yell. You're hurting my head."

He bent his knees until Oliver's feet pressed against the sidewalk. Allen took it to himself to pat his pockets for the sought keys. Oliver gasped from the palms snaking into his pants. "Allen!" He exclaimed, falling to peels of laughter, "Buy me dinner first!"

"Which one unlocks this door?"

"Ha-ha...what?"

"Never mind. I'll just try 'em all. Stay there!" Allen said, beginning to run through the key chain.

"It's the gold one," Lila said. "It's the gold one!"

"Heehee, gold one," Oliver echoed, taking a shaky step back. His arms wobbled, but he managed to stay standing on his own.

"Gold one?" Allen tried the only shiny golden colored key, and the lock clicked. A wave of cool air and the scent of warm goods welcomed them. He led Oliver into the shop, breaking his stare on a car that sped down the street. For their own safety, Lila heaved with a push to lock the door. Hopefully, a lock could best a drunken baker. The man tensed at the click, throwing a startled glance over his shoulder. "The fuck?"

The fairy swished a hand at him. "Keep walking. There's nothing to see here."

"C-come on, Ollie, you're almost there. Fuckin' ghosts or some shit," Allen grumbled. Oliver stood numbly, staring at his floor. He managed to get the delirious baker around the counter and into the foyer. "Ugh, stairs!" He looked to his friend, who swayed a little on his feet, strangely quiet. "Another piggy back ride?"

"Oink, oink," Oliver hiccupped, and flopped against Allen's back.

"Yeah, oink, oink," the other man mused, slowly trudging up the steps, trying to hold onto the baker and not miss a stair at the same time. Lila swerved side to side, a low whine coming from her throat without her permission. It was too easy to imagine a foul step, and both of them tumbling down onto her. "Wow, I like what you did to the place." He set Oliver down, taking a generous sniff. "Doesn't smell like old ladies anymore."

"I am not...hic...an old woman!"

Allen and Lila decided to ignore the comment. He towed Oliver down the hall, swinging his head to each of the doors. He pushed open the one to the small bedroom, and sighed, "Here we are...finally. Go on then, get in the bed."

Just to stay with him, Lila fluttered around Oliver's head, even though she had suspicions that he could not see, or did not pay attention to her anymore. Oliver dove stomach first onto the mattress, before shimmying over it to flip over and face his company. He started to make strange faces, gripping the sheets. "Behave yourself," the fairy warned, but the only response was a run of snorts with his snickers as Allen knelt before him.

"How the fuck did you tie your shoes?" Allen grumbled, picking at the laces to work out the knots.

Lila sighed, "You don't want to know." She was about to settle on Oliver's head, but decided that was not a good idea, based on the way it lolled from one side, and to the other. With a grunt, Allen situated himself on the edge of the bed, and reached to untangle the baker's ribbon. She flopped on one of the pillows, far enough from any stray movements, but close enough to shoot daggers at the both of them.

Oliver tipped his head again, blinking in surprise, but his vision could only focus for sporadic moments. He sniggled, lashes fluttering. Suddenly, his arm lashed out, and bent around the back of his company's neck, trying to pull him closer. Allen thwarted his attacks by pressing his forearm against his throat as he tossed the bow on the floor and worked on the top most buttons pressing against Oliver's neck. "I ain't bein' fresh wit' you, babe. It's so you don't choke in your sleep, or whatever."

"Are you fresh other times?"

"I could be," Allen winked, but suddenly shot to his feet, away from any grabby hands.

"Allen. Allen, where are you going?" The baker asked, his tongue becoming more loose with slurs. "Are you leaving again?"

"Nah, I'm just gonna crash in the livin' room. I'm going to be right next door, so if you need anythin'-"

"I need you."

"Besides that."

Oliver let out a growl, baring his teeth in an odd bite at the air. "You should come over and kiss me."

"I ain't doin' anythin' that's gonna encourage you."

"And you," Lila pointed out.

"Why not?!" Oliver whined. "We have not kissed in years!"

Allen propped a hand on the door way, kicking off his own sneakers before grabbing them. "It was a year. A lil' more than a year..."

"Still a long time. Please?"

"Heh, that's true."

"Hey," Lila pointed a finger. "No."

"How 'bout this," Allen dropped his sneakers on the dark floor boards, and sauntered to the bed. Oliver wiggled on the mattress excitedly, like a child left rampant in a candy shop. He grunted in confusion as his company pinned his hands on the bed, on both of his sides with a knee and one of his own palms, and used the other to smear his bangs back. He blubbered the other man's name as he pressed his lips against his forehead. "Better?"

Oliver seemed to contemplate this, and nodded. "Allen," he murmured in a quiet tone, and just as he pulled away, he suddenly grasped onto the back of Allen's head. However, the other man was quicker to clamp a hand over the baker's mouth.

"See, you're goin' crazy." Allen reached back to grab one of the hands tugging on his hair. He managed to free himself at the price of a few strands and a scoff of disbelief from his old partner. "I'm goin' now," he declared, kneeling to snatch his sneakers off the ground.

"No, Allen!" Oliver kicked his bed, as if he were confined to it. Perhaps he had forgotten to stand. "Please? Even if it's a little one?"

"We both know it ain't gon' to be a little one. Get some sleep," Allen tossed behind himself as he gripped the door knob. "It's gon' be a bitch comin' out of it tomorrow."

"You...stupid!" Oliver pounded on the mattress as Allen slipped away.

"Stop that!" Lila yelled.

Oliver did, surprisingly, but sobbed, "You're an idiot."

"I know," the muffled reply came through the wall. "You tell me every time we see each other."

Lila stepped in, flying in front of his face to push on his forehead. "Let's go. You heard him. Go to sleep."

"I'm tired," Oliver announced, and flopped backwards. He bounced a bit against the springs, and his head slumped.

"Ollie? Ollie," the fairy prodded the side of his face. "Mother nature, you fell asleep. I will be back when you are coherent!"

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

To the next morning, Oliver loathed his life. Waking up offered no joys, and there were no rewards in engaging in normal 'people' activities. He only needed his bed, until that betrayed him from the springs jabbing his ribs. The baker groaned, turning upright as the lack of oxygen intake from his previous face down position made his head hurt even more.

It may have been dramatic, but he wondered if he was dying. Alone, in his bedroom, spread on his bed was better than most ways, but tears still pooled in his bleary eyes. He just wanted to sleep, or death, which ever was easier to obtain. To top it off, he only had himself to blame, so he could not look forward to cursing someone else's day.

Oliver pushed from the mattress, attempting to get up, but only succeeded in turning to his side. It was progress his pounding head did not appreciate. His body was coming to as well, based on the uncomfortable weight lying below his abdomen. The bathroom seemed so far away, but the last thing a hangover needed was a bout of bed wetting. So, with great effort in his deep sleep deprived limbs, he managed to half roll, half push himself off his bed, and onto his feet. He shoved the bathroom door, already open, and nearly fell face first into the toilet bowl.

Proper clothes were too much, Oliver realized as he stumbled out of the small bathroom. He reached up to undo his neck wear, only to grope at the top most buttons, already undone. The man stopped halfway to his bedroom, smacking his lips. Water was more in need than clean clothes. Grumpily leaving the sight of his bed again, he braced a hand on the corridor wall for balance, and trudged toward the living room.

He paused at the opening as the faint buzzing of his television registered in his popped ears. Oliver slowly turned his head to the direction of legs beneath a blanket sticking out of the reclining chair. "Shit," a low voice emitted from the legs, commenting on a revolutionary bird feeder, anti-squirrel guaranteed. "That's actually pretty cool."

The body shifted as Oliver slipped and fell against the other wall from the wet-noodle sensation plaguing his legs. Allen's face popped up from the chair, looking over the rear cushion with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "Ollie?"

Oliver pushed from the wall, and hurried back down the hall. He could hear Allen scramble off the chair with curses, his steps heavier but more certain than his own. However, he made it into the bathroom, slamming the door just as hands hit the cheap wood. He twisted the lock, moaning in disgust as he shoved himself from it, toward the toilet once again.

"Ollie?"

Horrible retching was Oliver's only reply. It was something he knew he had to do, but hated the entire process. Once it was done, he tried to pretend it did not happen. He concerned himself with bursting from the sweltering bathroom and shakily inhaling from the cool air filtering through the hall. A strong arm caught his waist, and he fought to find his feet flat on the floor. He smacked his mouth again, cringing from the rotten aftermath.

"You're a sight fer sore eyes, Ollie," Allen said, and revealed a cup of water in his unoccupied hand. Oliver snatched it, even if it was not for him. "Yeah, that's good!"

So it was his. Oliver emptied the glass in ravenous gulps, clinging to its chilled sides. Allen had to pry it from his hands, despite his low growls of irritation. His company lightly pushed on his back to get him to the bed again, and shot out of the room soon after. The baker caught himself on his double cot, much more able bodied compared to earlier; it was just that he did not want to be. However, his current clothes felt heavy and unpleasant against his skin, so he persevered to his dresser.

A knock on the door frame made him jump, and he dropped one of his ties, but quickly spun away, still wobbling a bit. "Ollie?" Footsteps came closer despite his fierce gaze on the opposite wall. "How you doin'?"

"I have a dreadful hangover," he growled. "How do you think I am doing?"

A short laugh drifted into the air, and Oliver started again when a hand rested on his shoulder. Allen hovered by his side, so he looked the other way. When his company shifted to the other side, he did, too, lifting his hands to his face. "Hey, come on, somethin' else is wrong. Why aren't you lookin' at me?"

Oliver's ears reddened beside his thumbs. "I spent the entire night embarrassing myself."

"Aw, no you didn't, baby," the hand on his shoulder rubbed affectionately. Oliver fidgeted beneath its clutch. "We talked 'bout normal stuff, an' caught up wit' one 'nother."

"You are okay with that?" Oliver took his hands away to glance in Allen's direction. "I mean, y-you are still here..."

"Of course I am! As if a few pints in you would make be run away," Allen snorted, pressing closer. His tone was obviously underlined with a lopsided grin, "Who you takin' me fer?"

"I'm all gross," Oliver said, trying to shrug away, but wound up only encouraging the embrace with his shy smiles.

"We're all a lil' gross. That's why I'm fixin' you up a shower. You like 'em hot, right?"

"How did you know?" The baker cooed, still completely smitten despite the time passed. Apparently Allen was too, based on his arms wounding around his waist. "Are you really fine with this?"

"Wit' us?" Allen guessed against the crook of his neck. "Mmhmm, really fine."

Oliver let out a pitiful giggle when he felt himself slump against him, and had to be straightened. He dared to admit, "I missed you."

"Yeah, I missed you too, babe. I thought 'bout you a lot." Allen tightened his grip around him a bit more, and took an sharp sniff. "Hm, I swear if this is another dream..."

"Oh, if it is, then please, don't wake up."