"Come one, come all! There are plenty of delicious treats for you to enjoy on this fine, summery day!"

"Damn, Ollie, I can hear you down the block!"

Oliver whipped his head in the newcomer's direction, grinning despite that it was not a customer. "That is how you attract attention, dear!"

Allen drew up to the stand the baker had set up, gazing at the many rows of various cookies and cupcakes available. His eyes trailed to his housemate, who fidgeted with the ribbon around his neck and smiled without meeting his gaze. "Yeah, you're attractin' attention, all right."

As expected, he reached for one of the brightly colored treats without taking his stare from Oliver, but the baker expertly slapped the offending hand away. "Those are for the customers. Unless you plan on paying, paws off!"

"Aw, come on!" Undeterred, Allen crept around the stand to toss his arms around Oliver. "You know I got an eye fer sweet things."

"Dork!" Oliver lightly spat, and turned his face away so his company would not see how stupidly he was grinning. "It's very nice and warm..."

"Who me?"

Yes, although Oliver was talking about something else. "I am talking about the weather."

"Uh huh, sure." A woman pushing a stroller passed the stand, and glanced in their direction. Oliver dropped his gaze to the grass when Allen sprouted a bright smile at her puckered expression.

Oliver started to pull away. "Hey, stop-"

Strong arms tugged him back against his chest. "Hey, hey."

"Allen! Quit it, you will drive potential customers away!"

"Quit actin' like you don't like it."

"I am not! I am acting as if you are going to ruin business, because you are!"

Allen gave Oliver's arms a wholehearted rub, still keeping his hold. "A lil' somethin' aint gon' hurt anybody!"

Oliver held up one finger, and turned his head to peck his partner's lips, just once. He blinked in surprise how the arms around him relinquished their clutch, replaced by a broad palm rubbing his back. "Oh? I am shocked that you did not die for more."

"Do y'want me to?"

"N-not now. How are the others doing?"

"Uh, Luciano's caricature thing at the bookstore's goin' fine. It's usually the kiddos that like that stuff. Wolfgang asked fer a drawin' o' himself, an' wound up bawlin' like a baby."

"Luciano can be very blunt given the right circumstances," Oliver granted. "The rest of them?"

"Huh? Oh, Lutz an' his bro are taggin' notes to people's cars, tellin' 'em sappy shit like 'Smile!' and 'Don't be 'fraid to tell the world how y'really feel!'"

Oliver snickered from the singsong voice Allen used to mock the brothers. "That was Lutz's idea, you know? It is nice to hear that his brother went along with it. Did Kuro and Matt complete their wall murals yet?"

"Yeah!" Allen lowered his hand to drape an arm around the baker's waist, but jerked back, as if shunning instinct. "They're...uh, comin' along nicely." He opted to perch his palms on his own waist in a subtle heroic pose. "I'm kinda likin' this, babe! If we keep this up, the town will be all pretty, even if the people are still salty."

"We are not going to be able to get the sticks out of everyone's rears, but it is a start." Oliver glanced around the grassy lot, but most of the passersby kept their eyes on their cellphones, or the sidewalks. An stray thought popped in his head, of his mother being happy with what he was beginning. "I have been thinking," he started much more quietly.

"Hm?" Allen leaned closer to hear. "I've been thinkin', too!"

"Really?" Oliver asked, impressed. "About what?"

A wicked grin cracked along Allen's face as he smeared Oliver's hair back, exposing his forehead. "I've been thinkin' 'bout those eyebrows!"

Oliver scoffed, and tried pulling away, but Allen's other hand clasped his upper arm. "I am being serious!"

"So am I," Allen crowed, still holding the baker's hair back so he could kiss the supposed monstrosities. "It won't be long 'til birds start tryin' to make nests out of 'em!"

Another vicious thrash only wound up causing Oliver to hurt his shoulder. "You!"

"Me?"

Oliver clamped a palm above his eyes.

"Aw, babe! I ain't tryin' to be mean!" Allen resumed to rub his back in attempts to sooth the baker. "Didn't you say you were thinkin' o' somethin'?"

"Are you going to stop being a goofball and listen?"

Allen shrugged. "Sure."

Oliver glanced in his direction, doubtful, but eased with a soft roll of his shoulders. "I was thinking of seeing my mother."

"Wow! Ain't your mom in jail?"

"Ever since I was fourteen years old. The more I think about it, the more I have to see her again. I want to know if she is all right."

"What if she ain' all right, Ollie?"

Oliver insisted, "I have to see her. I am eighteen now, so the prison should let me visit her."

"Yeah, you don't want lil' kiddos runnin' 'round a bunch of bad fellas." Allen dropped his distant expression of distaste from the sky. "When you plan on goin'?"

"Oh, I do not know," the baker grimaced at his hands fidgeting with one another. "Perhaps in the middle of the week, so all the weekend goers are not everywhere."

"Can I tag along?"

"You want to come with me?"

Allen's grin broadened. "Yeah! I always wanted to meet your mom!"

"I...I do not know if you should be so excited about that. What if she is not around anymore?"

"Where else would she be?"

Oliver turned his head to give the other man a blank stare.

Allen blinked in wonder. "Huh? Oh, okay." He shook his head. "Well, that's somethin' we gotta find out."

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

The group collected at the bakery, safe from the draining summer sun with cool drinks and treats. Nikolai had separated since the first gathering, as he claimed that he made the world a better place by ridding of those who did not. When everyone was seated by the table open to the front windows, Oliver rose out of his seat, and cleared his throat to gain attention.

"I would like to thank everyone for their efforts again today. Is everyone all right? None of the crazies tried clawing your eyes out?"

Matt spoke up, if it was considered speaking up, "There was a crowd around Kuro and I when we were finishing our last mural. They all just stood there and stared."

Kuro let out a low rumble of laughter from the back of his throat. "I am afraid we may have broken them."

Oliver offered, "Perhaps they were taken back from such a nice job you two have done."

Matt and Kuro glanced at one another before dropping their eyes to the table. Undaunted, Oliver turned to Lutz and Siegmund. "The tickets?"

"Once people find out they are not fines, they are probably going to rip them up."

Siegmund's docile expression soured at his brother's lament.

The baker shrugged. "So what? They are pieces of paper with ink on them." Just as everyone gawked at him, he claimed, "It is the message that needed to be sent out. Once they read it, it will be with them forever."

Allen put in with an elbow to his brother, "Unless they forget 'bout it, like if they're old or somethin'."

"Be quiet, Allen." Oliver continued over his grunts and stammers. "Luciano, how did the caricature booth go?"

"I guess it went fine, given the location. If we went somewhere more busy, I am certain we could attract more interest."

With a nod, Oliver said, "We are starting out small, but I would say this is a success!" He almost wiggled from delight, but resorted to a simple smile instead. His mother would be so proud! He knew he was of himself. "Ahem, so next week, same time? That sound all right?"

Like children in a confusing math lecture, the others weakly bobbled their heads, muttering affirmative phrases. Allen reached up to fondly squeeze Oliver's hand, which coaxed the baker to settle in his seat with a satisfied huff. Even with the heat-beaten responses, it was all very good news. "Great! Next Saturday, here at the bakery. Snacks and drinks will be provided, so all of you should come."

~.~

~BOING~

~.~

A prison's receptionist stared at Oliver with dead eyes when he and Allen stood before his desk several days after. "Kirkland? Sir, we have not had any Kirkland's within the past twenty four months."

Oliver gawked at the man, blinking stupidly at the news. "Two years?!"

"That is what I said." The secretary browsed his computer for another moment. "The only Kirkland we have in our records is a...um...Marionette? A Marionette Kirkland, but she was transferred out two years ago."

"Transported?" Oliver murmured, hovering closer to the wall of glass separating him from the secretary. "To another prison?"

The receptionist raised his eyebrows, glancing up and down at the baker. "No sir, to the local mental ward."

With the look he was given, Oliver belonged in one, too. "Oh, all right...Thank you." He doubted the secretary heard him, but he felt eyes on his back when he padded away from the front desk to where Allen was waiting by the doors.

"What's up?" He asked, and immediately slung his arms around Oliver once he crept close enough. "Your momma okay?"

"She is..." Oliver tried to crush the thickness crawling up his throat. "She is still around, but not here." He explained how Marionette was transferred a while back.

Allen widened his eyes, appearing shocked as Oliver felt. "They stuck your momma in a loony bin? What fer?"

"I must find out."

Once settled in the car, warmed by a few minutes in the late summer sun, Allen lightly whistled, and dropped his glasses in front of his eyes. "Wow. You don't think she went all...you know..." He spun his finger beside his head.

"My mum is a very strong woman. No matter how much she is beaten down, she will keep going for the sake of her family."

Allen held his hands up. "Okay, all right, babe. I was just wonderin'." When Oliver's shoulder's eased, he reached to hover a palm against the dashboard's vent. "Do these things even work anymore?"

"It is an old car. I would not be surprised if it was not in tip-top shape."

"Why don't you buy a new car? Like, one o' those fancy things wit' TV's in the back. Woo, I can hardly imagine! It sounds so cool. You can afford one o' those, right? I mean, you got the money from..." Allen's eyes flickered around the parking lot, as if someone were listening. "You know. Your stuff."

"As far as the government and everyone else is concerned, I run a simple bakery. It would be a tad odd for me to suddenly roll in with a Ferrari or some tenacious vehicle of that sort."

"Shit, what'chu gon' do wit' all that money then?"

Oliver shrugged. Anabella had bestowed him with more cash that she acquired over her many years than he believed he needed. "Financial security? Case of emergency? What if you fall down the stairs, and break your leg? There would be no need to take out loans or be in debt."

"Who says I'm gon' fall down the stairs anytime soon?"

"Not on purpose, but we are talking about you, Allen. Who knows what you will do next?"

"I'm behavin' myself!"

"Yes," Oliver mashed his eyebrows together for a more serious expression. "How long will that last?"

Allen grunted, and turned his head to stare out the window. His newfound silence was slightly startling, but the other man shrugged, and worried about pulling out of the car park. He filled the small vehicle with light hums and his fingers tapping against the steering wheel during short stops. However, once Oliver parked in the near empty parking lot in front of the supposed insane asylum (it only looked like an old office building), he glanced to his passenger, who was gawking with a puzzled look.

"What is wrong?"

"Uh...y-you're crazy."

Oliver wagged his head, miffed by the sudden insult. He cracked a sweet smile as he sourly asked, "Yes, it is great, isn't it?"

"No, well, I mean, sure, but...ugh," Allen rubbed his recently healed cheek. "You gotta be careful or else they'll lock you up in one o' their crazy rooms!"

"Thank you for the unneeded warning, dear. I suppose the same goes to you as well."

"What's..." Allen trailed off when Oliver leaned over to kiss the side of his face he was nursing. "What's that mean?"

The baker feigned a thoughtful noise against his jaw. "Hm, perhaps, just maybe that there is a teensy, tiny chance of you being almost, if not as mad as I am?" He continued without giving Allen a chance to fend for himself, "I do not know why you brought it up, since I am not letting you go anytime soon, and I do not see you trying to get away." Cutting the engine, he left his partner to steam his brains as he hurried out of the vehicle.

"Son o' a bitch!" Allen's sputter was muffled from the enclosed car. He shoved open his side, and popped his head over the roof. "Slow down, crazy!"

"Hurry up, dork."

A frigid gust of air hit the duo as soon as they stepped into the interior, blank, to match the outside. Everything, the carpets, the walls, and even the worker's outfits, were all gray. The silly fluttering Oliver's heart performed dropped to a dead sink as he frowned at everything. His mother did not belong in a place like this!

Allen lightly tapped his behind. "Come on, babe. The desk lady is starin' at us."

The woman leaned over her desk to speak out of the circle cut from her office window, "Do you need something?"

The pair rushed to the glass, peeking at her through the hole. Oliver asked, "Are we able to visit one of the patients?"

Her face slightly crunched, as if asking the baker why he would wish to do that. "Uh...there is a lounge for the patients. You can talk to them there. What is the name? I need to see if they are in their room."

Oliver clasped his hands together so they would not pressed against the clean window. "Kirkland. Marionette Kirkland. I heard she was transferred from the prison a few blocks from here, around two years ago."

A thoughtful gaze took the receptionist's pale eyes. "All right. I will contact security to bring her out."

"Thank you," Oliver said, but the woman turned away, focused on tapping her telephone's buttons. He felt a sudden hand rub his back, lazily attempting to ease his tense shoulders.

"This is my first time meetin' your mom."

"What if she..."

"She what?"

Oliver shook his head. "We will see."

The receptionist hooked the phone back onto its receiver, and pointed to the direction of the lounge. "She is already in there."

"She is?!" The woman stared at Oliver at his outburst. "A-All right, thank you," he repeated, but did not linger by the desk. Allen shot ahead to push open the door, and wiggled his eyebrows to encourage a smile. Oliver held a hand over his mouth so he would not enter the supposed lounge containing a dozen of metal patients while grinning like an idiot. However, both of them straightened out once they stepped into the silent room.