A/N: Wow, sorry, guys. Really. I know this is late, and I actually do have some good reasons why. Garage sales and Driver's Ed being two of those reasons. But, I am however done with DE, and I passed, so my summer-what's left of it-is all clear.
Also, the seventh Harry Potter book ruled my life for a few days. And I won a costume contest dressed as Professor Quirrel. I was the king, hell yes. Moving on:
Genre: Some humor mixed in with teenage romance, and a hint of drama.
Pairings: So far there's Grif/Simmons, Donut/Caboose one-sided Caboose/Sheila, Church/Tex, Kerry/Doc. Also, a bit of one-sided Tucker/Church is starting to spring up. Not to mention Church is really starting to notice Donut. Plus, I think I might be hinting at Gary/Andy.
Rating: T, though it might change. I'd say fourteen and up would be appropriate.
Summary: AU Donut's a cheerleader for the Red team, who just happens to fall in love with a Blue team football player, Caboose (who's badly crushing on Donut's rival, Sheila). Grif just wants sex with Simmons and for Sarge to stop trying to kill him. Kerry wants overprotective Grif to let her sex up Doc. Lopez is trying to get over his nervousness around the Blue cheerleader. Tex, who's haunted by a troublesome ghost named O'Malley, has a rocky relationship with her on-again off-again boyfriend Church, who can't help noticing the Red cheerleader. Tucker and Andy want to be in a relationship, too. But they have no one. And no one can find it in themselves to say those three magic words that make or break a relationship.
Warnings: Slash, het, cursing, Spanish, Spanglish, English Assignments, visiting old acquaintances, threats, cars, rabbit analogies, hypothetical questions, partial nudity, finals ending, the start of winter break, Christmas trees, ornaments, new traditions, Andy's fedora that just looks really cool on him, sugar cookies, an annoying ghost, worrying, parents, a Rubik's Cube, glasses, fluff, foreplay, mild nudity, and people substituting the word love for something else.

Chapter 13
Questions are Never Ending
Or
Cars and Daddies

It worried Donut that his parents had returned well after two in the morning. Two scenarios played though his mind back-to-back: either his father taking Helen's side and disowning him or Helen coming back to remarry Rob. Both made him bristle with fear.

Now, Donut was a forgiving person so he could handle the latter. Not to mention how much happier his father would be (which hurt him at the same time it made him glad). Yet, it had been six years…A lot of damage had been done in that time.

Donut shook his head, dirty blonde locks hitting his face wildly. He didn't need to think about things like that; it was the last day of finals, Christmas was coming up, and best of all he had a date tomorrow. There wasn't any time for worry. Besides, it wasn't as if his father was desperate or anything…

Crap, Donut groaned in his mind.

XXX

"So Tex is skipping on the last day of finals?" Tucker asked as Church parked the car.

"Only the first half, I think. She did all her finals yesterday, anyway. She said something about needing to be back by lunch. Also, I think she was yelling and-or threatening me. Can't be sure, wasn't paying attention," Church replied. He stifled a yawn as both got out of the car.

"Didn't get much sleep last night?"

"Never do. Tex came over at one in the morning," the smaller boy told him as they walked inside the school.

"Why?" Church looked at him pointedly.

"To pick up my car. Now what do you think she staid for?"

"Oh." The mocha skinned teen thought about making some half-hearted joke, but couldn't bring himself to put up that front so early in the morning.

They reached Church's locker. He opened it while Tucker leaned silently against the row of lockers. The other boy didn't seem to notice his withdrawal.

"See ya later, Tucker," Church said, closing his locker door and walking away.

"Yeah, see ya, man," the other boy mumbled before going the opposite way.

XXX

Tex got out of the car, slamming the door behind her and flipping a lock of hair over her shoulder in a single, fluid motion. She stared in disgust at the white-wash house, dreading that she'd have to walk in there.

Wrinkling her nose, the girl stepped onto the stoop and rang the doorbell. A second later her entreating entrance was answered and Tex stared into familiar dark blue eyes.

"Ah, Allison. I knew you'd come back to me eventually," the black haired male sneered, a British accent lacing his words.

"You're way off, Wyoming. Now cut the crap and let's get down to business," the girl said, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him inside none-too-gently.

Tex led him to his own living room, knowing the house well. She took hold of his wrist and, twisting it behind his back, forced him down on the couch. She paid no mind as a fourteen-year-old boy with short, natural-red-with-green-dyed-tips hair walked into the room.

"Hello, Tex. Knock, knock," the boy said in greeting.

"Not now, Gary," she replied impatiently through gritted teeth, eyes still trained on the older male who opened his mouth as if to say something. "And not a word from you, Wyoming." She took a calming breath before continuing.

"As I recall, you owe me a favor," Tex told the black haired one. She got a grin and faux forgetfulness in response.

"Really, now? I don't believe I recall."

"She's right," Gary spoke up. Wyoming shot him a glare.

"Oh, yes. Thank you for your help," he said dryly.

"You're welcome."

"Heh. See there? Now, you get to do me a favor," Tex smirked.

"Yes, that's all very well, but I can't do anything right now," Wyoming told her.

"Well why the hell not?" she demanded.

"You seem to be straddling me and holding my arm to my back. Also, it seems so have gone numb."

Tex released him and took a few steps back. The black haired teen slowly brought his hand in front of him and rubbed it gingerly. After a minute, when feeling began to return, he looked up at the girl.

"What is it that you want, Allison?"

From her jacket pocket she pulled out a small book. She flipped it open to where her bookmark mark, a dark green ribbon, rested.

"I need these things, and I need them soon. You're the only one I can get them from," she told him, handing the book over. He skimmed through the two showing pages.

"Hm. Yes, I do believe I can get you everything you need, my dear Allison."

"Great. Thanks, Wyoming."

"Anything for you," he told her.

"Would you shoot yourself dead?" she asked quickly.

"Er, no, not that."

"For the better; I want that honor all to myself," Tex mused, lips forming a coy smile. He smiled in return, secretly thanking his god that he was still useful to the girl. Off to the side, Gary tried to get the brunette to play along with his knock-knock jokes.

XXX

Grif looked down at his English assignment, one portion in particular. It was the picture of him and Simmons climbing a tree, the required five sentences under it. Inconspicuously, he hid his smirk behind his hand as he read what he had written.

When we first met, me and Simmons hit it off pretty well. We'd insult each other (that's what cause us to go by our last names-I kept calling him a dick and he kept mocking the fact that I shared a name with a cartoon character) and try to out do each other.

We both claimed this tree for ourselves, so to decide whose it was we had a race to the top. Since we ended up reaching the topmost branch at the same time, it became our tree. In the years to come we pushed each other out of it, shoved its leaves down the other's throat, and a lot more harmful things. Also, it was where we both lost our virginity-under the tree, because Simmons wasn't too keen on in-a-tree sex.

"That would have been really awesome," Grif mumbled into his hand.

"What was that?" Simmons, sitting next to him, asked.

Removing his hand but not his smirk, the brunet replied, "Nothing."

"I doubt that," the green eyed teen said, eying him warily. At that instant the bell gave its shrill ring and Pillows entered the classroom, going to the front.

"Morning. You've got all hour to work on your finals. Turn them in whenever you want. Have fun, yadda yadda," the woman instructed, yawning when she was done.

When Grif and Simmons went up to do just that, along with a few other students, she asked the two, "Either of you good at poker?"

"Yeah," Grif replied. "I beat him all the time." He pointed a finger at the freckled teen.

"Oh, go to hell."

"Great, I'll get my deck," Pillows said eagerly, glad for a chance to do something remotely entertaining. The teens figured they might as well play; there wasn't much else better to do.

By the end of the hour Simmons had lost thirty dollars to each of the other two.

XXX

Church arrived at the lunch table to find Tex already there, her legs propped up on a chair. She lowered them to allow the boy to sit next to her. Tucker in turn sat next to him.

"So how was the trip?" Church asked, laying down his lunch tray.

"Got what we needed, no problem. Things are going smoothly and everything should even be ready a few hours earlier than planned," she answered as Caboose walked over, trailing Shelia.

"Oh, hello, Tex," the younger girl greeted.

"Hi, Tex!" Caboose enthusiastically exclaimed as both sat down side-by-side.

"Hey, guys," she returned. Before anymore could be said, Andy arrived, Trademark fedora on his head.

"Hey," he greeted.

"Here," Tex said, throwing a Rubik's Cube at her cousin, the only completed side all white. They boy caught it easily. "Gary says it's your turn to only get the greens or something."

"You went to see Gary without me?" Andy asked incredulously as he sat down next to the older girl.

"I didn't want you two making out the whole time," Tex told him with a roll of her gun smoke eyes.

"Hey, we're not Church and Tucker," he argued.

For that comment he received a milk cartoon colliding with the side of his head, the force making his fedora fall over his eyes. Pushing the hat back up, he looked around the table for the culprit, eyes stopping on Tucker; his tray was missing milk and there was a faux-innocent smile on his dark face.

Andy stuck up his middle finger while Tex and Church, ignoring them, discussed a few more details about the newest ritual. This one involved stones and some type of odd, almost glue-like substance Tex wouldn't elaborate on.

After finishing their conversation, the girl turned to Caboose and asked, "So, how's your relationship with Donut going? Need any advice on wooing girls?" The rest of the table, save for Tucker, looked at her as though she'd just announced she was considering joining a nunnery.

"Wait, are you being…helpful? To Caboose?" Church asked in flabbergastation. His girlfriend turned back to him.

"Well, he does kill your character in every game, no matter what team he's on. Also, I did call his boyfriend or whatever a girl."

"Oh, well that's acceptable." The rest of the table's occupants' eyes were going back-and-forth between the two.

"Church, are you trying to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"Of course not. I could never do that, Tex; you own my balls," he reminded dryly. The girl nodded, then turned again to Caboose.

"Anyways, so what are you doing for your date?" the boy shrugged cluelessly, still not knowing.

"Grand. I'm sure he'll have a lovely time."

"Thanks, Tex," Caboose beamed, oblivious to the sarcasm. Tex groaned, having to repeatedly tell herself that it was worth it as long as Church's full attention went back to her in the end. The things she did for…him.

XXX

"I'll be at lunch in a minute," Simmons told Grif, leaving his boyfriend to walk to their table alone.

Lopez was already there, head down on the table as he tried to ignore Donut and Kerry's babbling. Grif slid into his usual seat, announcing his presence with a loud and unapologetic yawn. He got an assortment of greetings, Lopez even raising his head in the slightest.

"Hey, cuz."

"'Sup, bro?"

"Hola, pendejo."

"Yeah, hi. And screw you, Lopez, 'cause I know that was an insult," the brunet replied.

"Hey, Grif? Can we get your opinion on something?" Kerry asked him.

Said teen leaned back in his seat, replying, "Are you actually going to listen to me?"

"You know my what-Donut-tells-me-is-yellow shirt with the mainly-shades-of-green butterfly?" He noticed how she side-stepped his own question with puzzling descriptions. "Well, I was gonna wear my bracelet with the matching green butterfly charm on it when I wear the shirt for my date with Doc, only I think I should wear the bracelet on my left wrist while Donut says I should have it on my right."

"It's more stylish," the dirty blonde cut in.

"What do you think?"

Grif blinked, taken aback by his sister's rapid mini-speech. And, honestly, he didn't really think it mattered one way or another. Nor did he know what shirt or bracelet she was talking about.

"Uh…" he said smartly. Luckily, he was saved from answering as Simmons came over, thick black-framed glasses on his face.

"Sorry, I had to switch out to these-my contacts were irritating my eyes," he explained, sitting down next to his boyfriend.

Quickly, before a new conversation could be struck up, Kerry launched into her mini-speech/question, this time directing it to the newcomer. Simmons blinked in much the same manner as Grif had.

"What does it even matter?" he questioned, mimicking the other boy's earlier thoughts. After giving twin eye-rolls, the two underclassmen turned to each other.

"These guys are clueless," Donut said. The girl nodded her head in agreement.

"Completely."

"You know, I was thinking and maybe you're right. You should wear the bracelet on the left. Now, how should I do my hair?"

"What are you planning to wear?"

As those two went on like that, Simmons took out a text book as his brother whipped out a book on mechanics; Grif all-the-while watched the former. The freckled teen didn't mind, being used to the brunet's eyes on him as he read.

Abruptly, Simmons felt a weight lifted from his face and the book before him blurred terribly, like static-snow on a television screen. He turned to Grif, only barely able to make out his form as he put on the thick glasses himself.

"Give those back, cockbite. I can't see anything."

"Goddamn you're blind," the other boy noted, blatantly ignoring the command. He did take them off, though held the glasses close to his eyes.

"Like a bat. Now give them back." Grif gave an involuntary shudder.

"I'd never compare you to a bat in anyway. Bats I hate. You I-" he have a slight, barely noticeable pause. He considered using the word "love", but instead what came out was, "like."

"Yeah, yeah. Just give me the fucking glasses," Simmons ordered again, ignorant to the hesitation.

Grif, deciding to comply, leaned over and placed aforementioned glasses back on the smaller boy's face. Simmons blinked, eyes adapting to the instant difference, and adjusted the glasses until his head wasn't throbbing.

"Thank you," he said, going back to studying. Grif watched him read again, ignoring his thoughts on the half-smile he was giving.

XXX

"Tucker," a soft, feminine voice said. The boy in question turned and saw Sheila catching up to him.

"Hey," he greeted. She moved faster to keep up with Tucker's longer strides as she walked alongside him.

"How are you feeling?" the girl asked.

"'Mfine. Why?"

"You don't seem quite…yourself today," Sheila explained delicately. Tucker looked away from her before speaking again.

"I'm fine. Just got a lot on my mind."

"If something's troubling you, Tucker, don't hesitate to talk to us, your friends. We're here for you."

The boy was going to remark on how cliché and so much like a cheesy teen drama she sounded like; upon glancing at Sheila and seeing the concern written across her face he bit his tongue.

"It's no big deal," he mumbled instead. Again his eyes turned away from the younger girl.

"Tucker, this is about Church, isn't it?" she asked after a small bout of silence. Against his will he tensed, and Sheila noticed.

"No," he lied, knowing he would be believed but hoping she wouldn't question him further regardless.

"It is what's bothering you, Tucker. It's obvious," the underclassman told him.

"What?" Now he did look at her, taken aback.

"You kept staring at him and Tex during lunch. Your jealousy was almost visible," the girl explained. Tucker was grateful that his dark skin hid the blush creeping onto his features relatively well.

"Listen, Sheila, nothing's…nothing's goin' on between me an' church," he said at last, proud that his voice barely shook.

"I didn't say there was," she pointed out. "Goodbye, Tucker, and good luck. You know, with finals," Sheila said, walking into her classroom.

For what seemed a frozen second the mocha skinned teen stood there, staring at where the girl had been. Then the minute bell rang, breaking his thoughts as it warned him to get to his own class.

XXX

Grif, out of breath, went over to the sidelines where Simmons and Donut were. He sat down, exhausted, ignoring the two pairs of green and blue eyes on him.

"You know what I don't understand?" the blonde asked.

"How he can be so out of shape yet he's in a sport and participates in gym each day?" the freckled teen offered.

"Fuck…I can taste my heart…you guys…" the tannest of the three panted, putting a different sentence in the middle of his first.

"Yuck. Hearts are all bloody; blood tastes disgusting," Donut commented, wrinkling his nose in offense.

Sardonically Simmons retorted, "Great insight, Donut."

Thanks." Simmons just shook his head as he went to take his turn. The other two watched half in awe as the boy did chin-ups.

"He's really good, huh?" the blonde spoke after a minute. Grif made a non-committing sound in the back of his throat. "Brains and brawns. How do you get the great guy?"

From the corner of his eye the older teen gave him an agitated glare. "Don't you ever shut up?"

"I mean, I'm not saying you're not a great guy yourself-but you're just not… You really don't seem like Simmons' type," the blonde went on, oblivious to his cousin's look.

"Donut," he growled, eyes clenched shut, "if you don't stop talking now, I am going to strangle you with piano wire."

"Do we even know anyone with a piano?" the smaller boy enquired curiously. "Anyway, all I'm saying is that he seems like the guy who would prefer…"

"What?" Grif urged, half annoyed, half intrigued as the younger boy trailed off.

"You know, someone who actually…applies himself," Donut finished.

Grif had no chance to retort as the teen they were discussing came back over and Donut left to take his turn. The brunet set his eyes on his cousin, not looking at Simmons.

"Well, this should be interesting. I doubt Donut'll be able to do ten chin-ups," the black haired one said with a chuckle.

"Not even one," Grif laughed.

They watched together as the small blonde tried his hardest; all the while Grif never glanced at Simmons.

XXX

"Caboose!" Tex called out, catching up to the boy.

"Hi, Tex," he greeted. They started walking together.

"Because it's you, I know you need advice with Donut," she said, cutting to the chase right off the bat.

"Um…"

"Shut up. Now, you probably still don't know what you guys are going to do," the girl guessed.

"Uh-"

"Listen, jumping into sex on the first date is never good for the relationship," she informed.

"But didn't you an' Church have sex on your first date?" the slightly taller teen questioned.

"And before. Which is exactly my point," she replied. Caboose blinked at her, bewildered.

"But-"

"No more questions," Tex interjected. "Listen, just call me whenever you need girl-er, boyfriend advice, alright?" He nodded obediently, giving her a wide smile.

"Good. Oh," she added as an afterthought, "and don't trust anything Andy, Tucker, or Church tell you. They're horrible at relationships. Especially Church. Also, Andy. You know what, all three are bad at relationships."

"Um, okay…"

"Well, see you, Caboose," Tex said in farewell, turning and leaving with a half-wave.

"Thanks, Tex. Bye, very scary and confusing lady," the boy replied, going to his own current class.

XXX

Donut, his cousins, and Lopez stood by the entrance of the school. The final bell had wrung, signaling the much awaited for end of finals.

"Damn it, what's taking him so long?" Grif wondered out loud even though he knew the others were as clueless as him. Kerry and Donut looked at each other, then gave twin eye rolls.

"Sigh. You always get so impatient and crabby without your daily dose of sex three times a day," the dirty blonde commented.

The older boy, growling, advanced a step towards the smaller boy as if to do him serious harm. He was stopped, however, by Simmons coming over. He grabbed Grif's arm and started dragging him away, speaking rapidly.

"Hihavetogoimportanthtingstodobye."

Eagerly, Grif let himself be led to his car. The other three watched them go, laughing. Then, a thought suddenly hit Kerry.

"Wait, how are we supposed to get home?"

"Lopez has a car," the taller of the leaving couple pointed out as if he couldn't care less.

Narrowing his dark eyes the Mexican boy cursed, "Hijos des putas." The remaining two looked at him expectedly. "Fine. Just get in the car and don't open your mouths," he instructed.

"Boy scouts honor that we'll only speak in Spanish," Donut promised with a wide grin. Kerry nodded and both held up their hands in the appropriate sign. Lopez groaned.

XXX

Doc tried to concentrate on the road instead of the ghost plotting deviously in the back of his head. It was hard, as O'Malley had been going on and on all day even when he was taking finals, but still Doc tried.

"And then I shall have the survivors erect a statue depicting my rise and humanity's fall!" There was a maniacal, ear-grating laugh to add emphasis to the dastardly words.

"You know I can hear your plans, right?" Doc asked.

"Quiet, you dolt. There's nothing you can do to stop me," O'Malley replied.

"Maybe if you just talked about your feelings you wouldn't be so mean and angry," the teen said, parking in his drive way. As he got out of the car and unlocked the door O'Malley made sounds of disgust.

"You are pitiful. I cannot wait until I completely erode your mind and take over your body fully,' the spirit told him as Doc entered his house.

"Wait, what?"

"Er, nothing. Don't worry your naïve little head over it," O'Malley covered up.

Doc shod said head good-naturedly, dropping his book bag by the door and hanging up his coat. He then waked into the living room, laying his keys on the table; he paid no mind as O'Malley's transparent form materialized next to him.

"Really, though," the human said after a minute, "you just have a lot of pent up emotions. I'm sure you just need an outlet."

"I could blow up the world," the spirit muttered darkly.

Ignoring him, Doc walked into the kitchen and scoured the cabinets for hot cocoa. "Remember, I'm always up for meditating with you," the boy offered, finding a box and taking it out.

"Ugh. You give me a headache," O'Malley moaned. Doc blinked in confusion.

"Can ghosts get headaches?" he asked.

"If I wasn't already dead, your incessant chatter would have killed me by now," the spirit said in retort. Doc again ignored him, starting to brew the warm drink.

XXX

Grif planted a longing kiss on Simmons, hands busy trailing his naked chest. The smaller boy moaned into Grif's mouth, causing the other one to grin.

The freckled teen dug his nails into Grif's hip as the boy above him rubbed a knee against his clothes crotch. He let out a whimper which soon turned into another moan as Grif removed his lips and started kissing his collarbone frantically.

"Dex…how long until…Sarge gets home?" Simmons managed to ask though pants. The other teen glanced at his watch before grinning down at Simmons.

"Twenty minutes. We have plenty of time," he assured, a hand trailing down his pale stomach. His grin widened at the shiver he invoked.

Grif fucking loved foreplay, and Simmons reacted so well.

A few minutes passed with Grif teasing Simmons, hands and tongues playing with his nipples. Below Grif, Simmons could barely think as he arched his back, withered, and made sounds of pleasure, some akin to a purr not unlike an ecstatic cat.

Soon, however, Simmons felt a sudden draft of cold air. Befuddled and unable in his current state to fathom why it was now freezing (yet his partner had yet to realize it), he peeked past Grif's shoulder.

The brunet felt his boyfriend stiffen under him. He lifted his head and looked down at Simmons' horror-stricken face in wonderment. His lips parted as if to speak; the words died on his tongue, though, as he turned his head to where Sarge was standing at the open car door.

Quickly, Grif snapped his head back around and hiss-whispered to Simmons, "Don't move. He's like a t-rex; they only see movement."

"Grif," the man growled. Said boy hung his head and sighed.

"What was that about twenty minutes?" Simmons asked almost accusingly. Grif examined his watch.

"Oh, look at that. My watch stopped. Isn't that tastic-fucking-fan?"

"Um, wrong order, Grif."

"Does that really matter at this point?"

"I suppose not…" Simmons agreed honestly.

"Grif," Sarge said again, breaking the teenagers' side conversation.

"Yes, sir?" the boy answered tentatively, betting that if he were to look at the man directly in the eyes, flames would shoot out and roast him like a Christmas ham.

"Git offa mah son."

"Right." He was about to obey when the smaller boy halted him.

"Er, let's put our shirts back on first," he suggested wisely.

"Right."

Grif bent down and picked up both shirts, handing one to his boyfriend without really looking at them. Hastily they redressed, then got out of the car; Sarge's cold eyes were on the two all throughout.

"Wait, why is this shirt tight?" Grif asked before looking down. "Crap, it's yours."

"Damn it, it's not that small," Simmons snapped.

"Dude, seriously. You've got a huge one," Grif told him. "I don't think you need to reclaim un-lost dignity or whatever."

"Grif, my father. Is. Right. There," the freckled teen pointed out.

"Oh, yeah…" He turned to the man. "Um, I'm sure he inherited it from you?" he tried.

"I'm adopted, jackass," Simmons reminded.

All the other boy could think of to say after a long beat of silence was, "…Awkward."

Through his hands that now covered his face, Simmons groaned and said, "Congratulations, Grif; you've just won the award for 'Biggest Fucking Idiot of the Year'."

"Yeah, I should probably go now, huh?"

"Yes," Sarge growled in response.

"Right," the tanned teen mumbled. He rounded the corner of his car and got into the driver's seat; they could switch shirts later. With a fast goodbye to his boyfriend, he drove off.

"I'll, um, be in my room," Simmons stammered once Grif was gone, trying not to gulp. Sarge didn't reply and the boy hurried inside.

Briefly Simmons wondered why the world was so blurry. Then it occurred to him that his glasses were still in Grif's backseat. He cursed, ignoring his aunt as she started to ask what had taken so long in getting home from school.

XXX

Grif, having removed Simmons' shirt and exchanged it for a stripped sweater his boyfriend hat gotten him, stared up at his ceiling. He was silently cursing himself for his stupid comments and general idiodicy. Also, that damn watch for stopping.

And that was supposed to be goodbye-until-later-that-night sex, too.

The teen was broken out of his grumbling thoughts by a knock on the door. After saying, "Come in," the door swung open, revealing his too-chipper-for-his-liking cousin.

"Grif, come on. It's time to put up the Christmas tree," Donut told him. "Me and Kerry both broke nails dragging the box down from the attic."

"It's a tragedy," the older boy mocked. "I'll alert the media."

"You're an asshole." His cousin gave a confirming nod and the boy continued. "The quicker we get the tree up, the quicker we make cookies, and the quicker you can hurry upstairs with Simmons in tow and show him a holly-jolly good time."

"That was singularly the most disturbing yet intelligent thing you've said all day. Be down in a minute."

"Okay," Donut replied, smiling broadly.

Closing the door behind him, the boy made his way downstairs. He hummed a Christmas tune underneath his breath as he walked into the living room where his female cousin was, taking parts of the tree out of the long box. He went over and kneeled beside her.

"Ugh, I can't get this stupid thing together at all," the girl complained.

"That's what we have Grif for-manual labor."

"Is he coming down anytime this year?"

"He might be waiting for the next ice age," Donut quipped. "I think it's already here," Kerry said with a shiver.

"Definitely," the boy agreed. "We should get Grif to build a fire later."

"That sounds good," Kerry said, unloading the rest of the box.

At that moment, Helen waked downstairs and into the room. She eyed the duo curiously, going towards them but stopping at the couch edge.

"You're putting up the Christmas tree today?" she asked, thinking back to years far gone when they would put all the decorations up on Christmas Eve.

Remembering as well, donut swallowed the lump forming in his throat before it could grow too big. He craned his neck so he could see the woman as he told her, "Yeah; new tradition since…about six years ago."

The simple words were worse than if her son had just slapped her across the face.

Helen nonchalantly, outwardly, looked away with an, "Oh." A spot on the wall seemed quite interesting right then.

Likewise, Donut faced forwards. Suddenly, the carpet was fascinating with its one, unchanging color and little weaves.

XXX

"For some reason," Tex whispered into Church's ear, "I want you so badly. Right. Now."

She nipped at his ear, pushing him down on the bed. Straddling his hips, the girl pressed their mouths together. Tex was fast to pry his lips apart, tongue darting in and making him moan in pleasure.

Church wondered why it turned him on to have people dominate him. The question left his mind, however, as Tex ran a hand up his shirt and went for his nipples.

From the front room, there was the sound of the door slamming shut and loud arguing, breaking the couple's passion.

"Goddamn it, I'll kill them," Church promised as the girl got off of him.

"Not if I get them first," Tex growled, smoothing down her shirt.

The two got up and went to the source of the noise. By the entrance stood their friends, who soon would be murdered.

"Oh, you guys are early," Tex noted dryly. "Wonderful."

"Did we interrupt anything?" Sheila asked apologetically, the boys arguing behind her.

"I am going to set you all on fire as you're bound on train tracks," Tex murmured.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Let's go mix the ingredients," the older girl said, distracting Sheila. They left for the kitchen.

"What the hell are you three arguing about?" Church asked, more irritated than interested. Andy pointed accusingly at Tucker.

"The sunuvabitch touched my fedora," he griped.

"For the last time, caboose ran into me. It was an accident you little cry baby," Tucker told them for what had to be the hundredth time.

"You stopped walkin' right in front of me!" Caboose defended.

"Dear sadist-God, I have children," Church groaned into his hands.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Tex poured an off-white, gooey substance into a bowl. That done, she grabbed a wooden spoon and handed it to the younger girl.

"Stir clockwise," she instructed, taking out another bowl and repeating. Bringing over her own spoon, Tex did as Sheila was doing. Suffice to say, it was a difficult task.

"Is this lethal?" the younger girl asked, a bubble popping in her bowl.

"You know, it could be," the brunette answered casually. The smaller girl looked down at her bowl's contents nervously.

"I…I see," she gulped.

They did their job in silence for a bit, the only noise being the boys' yelling and the spoon hitting the sides as they had to force its movement through the thick substance. After a while Sheila spoke, shattering the quietude.

"So, how is your relationship with Church?"

"Fine. Why?" Tex replied curtly, not liking where things were about to go.

"I was just curious," Sheila told her innocently. "It's just that you're having me help you instead of him." Tex sighed.

"They're all incompetent." The younger girl couldn't deny that.

"True. But that's not the point."

"Then what is, Sheila?" Tex practically growled. Used to her anger and irate nature, Sheila didn't flinch.

"Are you two happy together?" she asked softly. The answer was almost instant.

"Yes."

"So you two are in love?" This time the reply was much slower, the question side-stepped completely.

"I really don't see what the hell these questions will accomplish."

Sheila, now having to use both hands to stir as the disturbing substance became even thicker and held the spoon in place, took a deep breath; she knew it would be useless to try and further her questioning. When Tex didn't want to say something, that something was left unsaid.

XXX

Upstairs in his room, Church tried to ignore Caboose-who was on the floor beneath him-prattle on about Donut. Tucker was on the bed next to him, seeming to be concentrating fully on the game they played. Over on a chair in a corner sat Andy, paying them all no attention as he worked on the Rubik's cube.

"Amazing, Caboose. In this game, you can't hit your own teammates, yet you still managed to find some way to kill me," church mock-congratulated. Caboose looked up at him.

"Heh, heh. Um, oops?" he tried apologetically. The older boy let out a heavy breath.

"When I die in real life, I'm coming back as a ghost and haunting your sorry ass."

Tucker had not heard any of the exchange. While his hands were pressing buttons expertly, his mind was elsewhere. Namely, that inner little place in his head he hated to visit, though he frequented it as of late.

No. absolutely not. I don't like Church. I don't like guys. I'm straight, Tucker protested.

Dude, you had a wet dream about him last night, again, that damned little voice pointed out.

I…I don't remember that dream.

Repressed memory. But you can't deny that you woke up with morning wood.

That's not saying a lot. I always do.

Because of Church. Tucker swore he snickered at himself.

Go fuck yourself….myself…whatever.

You'd rather fuck-

Finish that sentence and I will rot the rest of my mind with television and videogames, the teen threatened.

You just love living in denial, don'tcha?

Yeah. It keeps me warm in winter and cool in summer, Tucker thought with little humor.

You know what would really keep you warm? An image popped into his mind-a very vivid image.

"That's it, I'm ending this right now," Tucker growled out loud, subconsciously leaning closer to his controller. Church gave him a sideways glance.

"I seriously doubt you'll be able to take on a guy in a tank with nothing but a switchblade," the smaller boy scoffed.

Broken out of his self-involution and thrown back into reality, the dark skinned boy turned to Church cluelessly. His body's rhythm snapped, a finger slipped and his character accidentally stabbed Church's guy.

Wordlessly, the three looked at the screen. It took a while, but Church was eventually able to find his voice again.

"You…you both have found impossible ways to kill me."

"Tucker did it!" Caboose was quick to point out, happy that his time all the blame actually could be put on the other boy.

"That was totally an acci-ah!" Tucker shrieked as church suddenly lunged at him.

"No gay sex when I'm in the room," Andy said from the other side, eyes still trained on the cube.

Tucker couldn't send a comment back to the younger boy as he willed all the blood to stay away from one head and keep to another, his body reacting unfavorably to Church on top of him.

XXX

Grif put an extremely fat and jolly ole Saint Nick in overalls on a branch, next to a gingerbread man left over from the previous year. Opposite of him, Kerry was putting up candy canes as she sucked on one herself. Donut, humming as he stirred sugar cookie dough batter, stood and watched them. Helen happened to bein the kitchen at that moment, talking to Rob on the phone.

After another minute, she came out. Going to stand behind the couch, hands on the back gently, she told the teens, "Well, Robert will be late this evening."

"So, do you have any news, or are you just stating the obvious for the hell of it?" drawled Grif good-naturedly, fastening a white dove on a branch close to the top.

Ignoring his smart mouth she went on, "I told him about this sugar cookie tradition, but he didn't know what I was talking about."

"Unsurprising," Kerry said simply through her candy cane. "He's never here for them."

"Really now? Don't you at least save a few for him?" the woman asked.

"No. we eat them all ourselves," Donut told her, starting for the kitchen.

"You mean you eat them all," Grif corrected. The other boy stopped dead in his tracks. "Either you're pregnant, or you're getting fatter."

Slowly, Donut turned to his cousin. His blue eyes narrowed at the older boy's smirk in a way that promised retribution.

"Kerry, stab him with a candy cane, please-my hands are full."

"Sure," the girl agreed.

"Hey, I'm holding the ornaments, here," Grif reminded, knowing they'd value those over him. His sister shrugged.

"Can't hold 'em forever," Kerry pointed out.

"I can damn well try," he challenged.

There was a knock at the door and Donut went to go answer it; it was Simmons and Lopez. With a word of greeting, the blonde brought his hand up, forgetting that it held his stirring spoon.

Lopez wiped the dough from his face saying, "Te odio, Donut."

"Oops. Sorry 'bout that, Lopez," the younger boy apologized, letting them enter. Simmons snickered and his brother pushed him forward roughly.

As Donut went into the kitchen to finish baking the cookies, the other two ventured into the living room.

"Hey, guys," Kerry greeted, finishing off her candy cane as she hung up the remaining two.

"Hi," Simmons replied whereas Lopez only grumbled unintelligibly.

Grif, who had gone upstairs when Donut left to answer the door, came back down. Throwing a pair of thick black glasses at Simmons he said, "Here. You left them in my car."

"Thanks." In turn he tossed the tanner boy his shirt. Smirking, he crossed over to the smaller boy.

"Would've given you back your shirt, but why bother when we could lose some shirts?" he asked suggestively.

"Rabbits," Kerry commented in a sing-song voice.

"Bitch," Simmons threw back, eyes trained on his boyfriend.

They were about to go up where the other boy had just come from when Donut popped his head out and announced that the cookies were ready.

Grif and Simmons stood there for a second, conflicted. Then the latter compromised, "Cookies first, then sex."

"Lots of sex?" Grif asked like a needy child.

"Of course," the freckled teen assured as they started for the kitchen.

"You think the Cookie Monster has a cookie-sex fetish?" Kerry asked as she poured hot chocolate in five mugs.

"That's disturbing on so many levels," Simmons replied with a shudder of revulsion.

"Duh. Of course he does," Donut said with a dramatic eye roll. "Think about how he acts around cookies."

"You're right-he practically always has cookie-gasms."

"Madre de Dios…"

"The hell is wrong with you two?"

While those four were busy with their antics, Grif poured another cup of hot chocolate and took a few cookies. He went back into the living room, stopping behind his aunt.

"Here," he said, extending his hand around her. Surprise in the woman's eyes, she took them.

"Dexter…" she trailed off as he turned to go once more into the kitchen.

"They're pretty good. Donut's better at pies, though," he told her off-handedly. "Next year he needs to leave the cookies to me."

With that, she watched her nephew walk into the kitchen; by the sound of it, he hadn't been missed. Slowly, as if afraid it would vanish, she brought the mug to her lips and took a sip. Then she bit into a sugar cookie. It was good.