Malcolm and Stevie just finished up an AP Chemistry lab in Stevie's room, when Reese bursts in, eyes full of excitement over something that's probably classifiable as one of three things: disgusting, violent, or both.

"Hey, guys! You'll never guess what I just… wrapped up," he giggles, almost doubling over in giddiness.

'Well, this sounds ominous,' Malcolm thinks. "Reese, what have you done?"

"Just look outside," Reese forces out, now trying to control his laughter.

Stevie wheels over to his window, allowing a space for Malcolm to also observe the havoc that Reese has inflicted on the jackass down the street: Jack Milton; Jack squirms in vain to free himself from the surprisingly complex, yet tidy saran wrap job that Reese completed.

"Jesus Christ, Reese! He's never gonna get out of that tree! But, if he does, I guess he'll be too scared to tell," Malcolm says, enthusiastically high-fiving Reese.

"Yeah…he's too much…of…a pussy…now," Stevie grins, shaking his head.

Just as they're about to continue roasting Jack, Stevie's dad swings the door open. "Time for dinner, Stevie! You two may join us for dinner, if your parents are all right with it."

"Yeah, don't worry. I called my parents before I ran over here. It's cool. And…thanks!" Malcolm replies, moving past Reese, Malcolm, and Abe, who all follow him to the hot meals that lie on the table.

After they all finish eating, Malcolm, Reese, and Stevie return to Stevie's room, only to see the mixture that Malcolm and Stevie worked on boiling when it shouldn't be.

"Shit!" Malcolm whispers, rushing over to the volumetric flask that contains their horribly miscalculated molarity solution; reddish-pink fog flows over the entire flask, and has a sketchy glow within and surrounding it.

"Awesome! What the hell is—" Reese begins to ask, but can't finish because he accidentally inhales the fumes from the solution, coughing and stumbling away, a hand covering his mouth to block the fumes. "Ugh…why the fuck is it so sweet?"

"Goddammit, Reese!" Malcolm growls, shoving Reese out of the room, making sure to hold his breath as he does so.

"Thank…God…I...didn't go…in there," Stevie says, subtly peering into his room to see if anything's burning. Thankfully, nothing is.

"Well, at least I got a goddamn window open! The room should return to its well-ventilated state in around…48 hours?" Malcolm says guiltily, knowing Stevie had to sacrifice a crucial portion of his solitary space for a while. Too long, especially for a teenage boy. Not to mention Abe's reaction.

"It's okay…I guess. I mean…you guys…didn't…pass out…so…that's gotta be…a good sign," Stevie optimistically replies, shrugging. Malcolm is surprised Stevie doesn't kick his ass, but takes the easygoing response.

"We better get home, I guess. Bye!" Reese says, pulling Malcolm along by his arm and out of Stevie's door. Malcolm gets goosebumps that almost induce a full body shiver, but he manages to suppress it before allowing Reese that satisfaction.

When they reach their front doorstep, Reese reluctantly peels his fingers off of Malcolm's arm, making sure to do so extra slowly for a reason he can't comprehend. He unlocks the front door, ushering Malcolm in by firmly planting his hand on his shoulder and guiding him, almost in a protective manner. Malcolm fights the oncoming heat in his cheeks, as he doesn't want Reese to have anything else on him.

When Reese and Malcolm reach their room, Reese opens the door for him, and follows Malcolm like he did about a minute ago. Dewey is fast asleep, but still as a rock. They both realize the need to change into nightclothes before Lois bites their heads off for not being in bed yet; as Malcolm pulls off his shirt to reveal his still-developing, but slightly more muscular than average torso to change into a t-shirt, Reese feels compelled to glance over long enough to see it. No, to take it in and memorize it. 'What in the hell am I doing?' he asks himself before changing into long, flannel pants quickly, trying to cover the likely suspicious staring he was doing.

"Night, Reese," Malcolm yawns, crawling under his covers after switching off his bedside lamp.

"Night, Malcolm," Reese whispers into the darkness, burrowing down into his sheets for what he believes is the retention of his own sanity. He doesn't have an inkling of what would make him look at his brother...

'This is ridiculous', Reese thinks, shaking his head at himself and his seemingly outlandish thoughts. 'Getting myself all worked up over some silly…looking. I mean, we're brothers; we look at each other all the time. Hell, we have to; we live in the same damn house. No big deal.'

He quietly laughs at himself, and then settles until he slips into a heavy sleep.