a/n: rewritten dec 13, 2013 — it looks like I'm gonna split these into chapters instead

The giggling could be heard from Pierre's kitchen. It was incessant. It was unruly. It was absolutely his undoing.

On the common days when Pierre had the quick infatuation with his cooking material and locked himself away in order to whip up a new dish, human interaction was the last thing on his mind before taking out his polished knives and forks and started dining.

But there it was. Human interaction—interacting, distracting, inane. Giggly.

Pierre tidied his suit, sturdied his hat, and puffed out his chest in order to prepare himself for a glamorous telling off—yet the seriousness of it all would still be disturbed by the sole fact that he was, after all, just Pierre.

He exited his house in a hurry, headed for the offending destination and origin of his troubles: Lanna's. House of Lanna. Lanna the one-hit-wonder—though he'd get a one hit wonder if he called her that.

To his surprise but no one else's, it was her idea to host an all-girl sleepover slumber party on a day when everyone was supposed to be working. And honestly, he doesn't know why there's giggling in the first place. They're adults. Shouldn't they have better things to do? Like, taxes and mortgages?

Tumbling his way to her house, he considered trading heaps of Large Fishes for a quiet evening, but even if Lanna did accept, there was no telling if she would even try.

One hand already in a knocking position half a foot away from the door, Pierre spun around from a hard tap on his back.

Denny stood with Vaughn lagging behind him, slack-faced and blinking.

"Chefy," Denny began. "What on this good island do you think you're doing?"

Frowning, Pierre answered honestly. "I'm going to ask if they could quiet down for a bit."

Vaughn snorted and lowered his Stetson, while Denny only shook his head solemnly. "Poor, poor Pierre. So naive."

"Don't be dramatic," Vaughn commented.

"You don't want to do that," continued Denny, ignoring Vaughn. "Not now, at least. It's, what, barely seven? Wait until later in the night—when they're wiped out and not capable of tying you down and writing derogatory words all over your face."

Pierre's hands flew to his cheeks. "They can do that?"

The man only shrugged nonchalantly in response. "They can do anything. They're Island girls."

"Well, I can't concentrate on my cooking," said Pierre. "What am I supposed to do until then?"

Vaughn sighed and began to walk away, seemingly finished with his buisness of stony unnecessary silence, before Denny plucked his Stetson right off his head and transferred it to his own.

"Denny," the cowboy said warningly.

"I'll tell you what we could do, Chefboy," Denny grinned, tiptoeing around Lanna's house and setting himself below one of the windows. "We could wait it out. Listen in. There's gotta be something juicy the girls have been keeping from us, you know?"

"Not 'we'," Vaughn corrected, marching to where Denny sat. "And give it."

He shook his head, one hand on the Stetson and the other up in the air. "Gotta earn it! C'mon, we won't stay to long. You're leaving for the city again tomorrow, Vaughn. Live a little."

"I'm living enough," complied Vaughn.

"Are you sure it's okay to listen in?" Pierre asked, stil deciding whether he should give up his decidedly delicious food for undecidedly unidentified gossip. "I mean, wouldn't that be wrong?"

"Well," said Denny, "yeah. But isn't this the kind of thing we should've done in our childhoods? Listening in is the only way we could prepare ourselves for the worst to come."

Unsurprisingly, Vaughn rolled his eyes.

"Plus—girls!" Denny said as if it backed everything up.

It didn't take too long for Pierre to think. A congregation of bachelorettes in pajamas and pillow did seem appealing to a level. Maybe they even had food.

"Sure," said Pierre. "Okay."

"If we're caught," said Vaughn. "Someone's going to be castrated."

"Who's going to be what-now?" A thoroughly disturbed voice chimed in, revealing the clear faced Mark in all his rancher glory.

"I come from the Inn and am on my way to the Meadow when I see three suspicious looking males in the vicinity of Lanna's sleepover blowout. Please tell me you're not doing what I think you are," he said, nearly groaning.

"I'm not," Vaughn said. "I'm gone."

Denny jumped up from the ground and pounced in front of Vaughn, dangling his hat like it were on a fishhook. "No! You can't leave just yet! Stay and eavesdrop with us, it'll be hilarious!"

Pierre, whose presence was temporarily forgotten, took the liberty of informing Mark of the current progress of the current situation. "We're planning on listening in to the girls'."

"Hey," said Mark, "It's not my business what you do in your free time."

"Wanna join us?" Pierre invited happily.

Shrugging Mark said, "Don't see why I shouldn't."

"Because it's a breach of privacy," Vaughn reasoned. "Why don't you guys understand that?"

"I think I hear Sabrina in there," said Pierre, ears to the wall. "She either just said she was tired of her dad or she hired a mad lad. What do you suppose a mad lad is?"

Vaughn quieted. "It was the latter, more likely."

To Vaughn's annoyance, Denny cackled hysterically, but just low enough for the girls not to hear from the inside. "Vaughn, you terrible boy! Want to hear about good ol' Sabrina's wishes, don't you?"

"Shut up before I make you," warned Vaughn.

"Like you could try, cowb—"

A slam was heard and the boys scrambled away, which was just in time for the appearance of Julia at the window, opening the glass flaps. "Oh, oh! That's a lot better. It's steaming in here, Lanna."

"I let you open the window, didn't I?" Lanna's clear voice floated from inside the room. Julia sighed and retreated from the window, leaving the boys to heave a sigh of relief.

Denny looked like Winter Thanksgiving had come early. "It's a sign," he whispered. "It's like the goddess wants us to do this."

"Then all the more we should go," muttered Vaughn.

Someone's voice broke in, inside. "Are we going to spill beans, or what?"

"Beans?" Another one answered. "We were supposed to bring beans?"

"No, silly," the first voice replied. "Secrets. We've all got 'em, so spill 'em!"

Denny flashed a look at all of them, all four of them gathered. Pierre had short-circuited long ago, giving into the temptation of untold treasured belongings, while Vaughn looked tired already.

"This is actually going to be so stupid, isn't it?" Mark realized.

"I told you," Vaughn said. "We're not going to make it the whole night."