Elizabeth’s face slid back into a normal expression and smile once the music was done and the spell broken by speaking. “You’re right, I haven’t. But a duet’s going to have to wait, because I’m not lugging a big ol’ piano all the way out here just for fun. It’s bad enough carrying a big cooler and basket full of delicious foods.” Liz bit into her sandwich to emphasize her point. It was a good sandwich. The two of them had definite futures in grocery store delis.

“By the way,” she asked in between bites, “what was that you just played? Not a classic, is it?” It didn’t sound like one. And anyways, she just wanted to know the song. Perhaps it’d be possible to recreate it on a piano later. That reminded her: she needed to start back practicing the piano again. She was confident she was out of touch, since she hadn’t used one in about a year. Maybe a duet would be just the thing to get her motivated again.

She leaned over, precariously-balanced on her hip, to grab a Sunkist. She cracked the lid and waited a moment to let the carbonation escape before opening it all the way. She washed down the last bite of her sandwich with the sweet, orangey flavor of the pop.

She set her drink down and brushed a stray strand of golden hair behind her ear. Motion caught her shaded eye and she watched a wasp buzz around, several yards away. Really, there was no danger of it attacking her, but Liz stiffened a bit anyways. She had a no-small level of fear for the stinging pest and she preferred being as far away from the things as possible.

She resumed eating her sandwich as she kept an eye on the yellow and black creature.

>> “You’re right, I haven’t. But a duet’s going to have to wait, because I’m not lugging a big ol’ piano all the way out here just for fun. It’s bad enough carrying a big cooler and basket full of delicious foods.”

“Why not? You have the strongest arms I’ve ever seen,” she winked and grinned.

It really was a funny though. To imagine this petite blonde hauling a piano single-handed out onto lawn just so that she could place a single duet. But of course that was never Agnes intention. She had always loved the idea of planning for the future and one of the things that caught her attention right now was planning a mini concert with her friend Liz. She would propose the idea later to her. She did not know how Liz felt about playing music in front of people, but the idea made Agnes actually smile.

Another bite of her mac and cheese and the runaway sighed contentedly as she looked out over the scene around them. The green grass, the warm breeze, it was all so pretty out here that Agnes could not think of going back to living on the streets. She remembered she told Sveta when she first got here that the second she felt things were going south, she was going to high tail it back to the alleys. Those cramped, damp passages filled with trash and debris were at least familiar. When she first arrived at the mansion she was absolutely terrified because she had no idea how things were going to change for her. Would she be mocked, liked, completely ignored? She didn’t have the answers to any of these questions at the time. But…now that she had lived here for a bit…she was happy that she had stayed.

Sipping her soda, she beamed at Liz. She was like none of the former friends she had ever had when she was last in high school. Kind of made her realize how much she missed out…

>> “By the way…what was that you just played? Not a classic, is it?”

“Oh, no,” Agnes said as she shook her head. Finishing her mac and cheese, she leaned over to the basket and pulled out her own sandwich. As she carefully unwrapped it she began to think back. “Where did I get that tune?”

She paused as she remembered one particularly cold night in the alleys. She was looking for something anything to stuff inside of her clothes to provide further insulation. It was then that she had stumbled upon some abandoned file in the trashcan. She never knew who it belonged to or what the name of the pieces were, but there were sheets and sheets of music that she mentally played in the back of her head. From then on she had kept the file, wondering if she would ever find out who wrote those pieces…

Agnes finally returned to reality and shrugged a bit as she turned her attention onto Liz. “I don’t know. I…found it one day. Just some abandoned folder in a trashcan. When I peeked inside I saw there were sheets and sheets of music so I decided to keep them and memorize them. No names on any of it though. Was the strangest thing…”

As she turned back to her food a gentle buzzing caught her ear. Looking up, she spied a single yellow and black lined wasp as it hovered around. A glance to Liz and she saw the blonde stiffen up a bit at the sight of it. Agnes smiled a bit sadly, as she held out her finger and watched as the wasp buzzed over and landed upon her skin. As it crawled about, the runaway smiled as she held it up to her eye level and smiled gently at it. She was not getting as disgusted by the sight of them these days. After all…they were only merely out to protect her.

“Now listen you,” she said, referring to the wasp. “Liz is my friend over there. Don’t you go around stinging people you don’t need to, get that? I’m fine.”

She knew she could not really control insects, but it was always a nice thought that she was getting more and more connected to them, that they could actually listen to her. She didn’t know if any of her words translated to wasp-ish but she felt her point get across.

“Shouldn’t be bothering you, Liz,” she said with a smile. “We’ve got an understanding.”

“Why not? You have the strongest arms I’ve ever seen.”

Liz grinned at the compliment. She rolled up the sleeve on her left arm, exposing the bicep. She put a serious face on and overdramatically flexed her muscles. “Yeah,” she agreed by a pompous air, “I am strong, but I just couldn’t drag a piano up here. After all, what if I broke a nail? Oh the horrors!” She slapped an outstretched hand over her opened mouth with a look of pure shock.

She held the face for a few moments before cracking and grinning away.

Her serious-ish expression lightened up when Agnes explained the music’s origins. “I’m sure it was fate. Some minor god from a forgotten worship system decided to bestow upon thee great, wonderful music, enough to start up a whole new genre and revitalize the world with it! And you can call it….classical trash!” By then the girl was standing up and spinning around, her hands flying around above her as she wrote the name upon the air.

She collapsed onto the edge of the blanket, her glorious moment of silence soon over. Her skirt billowed and fanned out around her as she re-oriented herself, sitting cross-legged. She reached over and took a swig of her drink, savoring the liquid sliding down her drying throat. Orange Sunkist was by far her favorite drink in existence.

When she looked back at her friend, her heart jumped into her throat.

If she had tensed before, she was now completely rigid. Agnes was talking but Liz wasn’t listening. On the tip of the brunette’s finger perched a terrible arthropod. It was directly between her eyes and Liz’. When Agnes finally directed words to her, Liz could only stare back in horror, goose bumps covering her skin and fear building, preventing her from moving, lest it attack.

“Get that away from me!” she whispered, her voice crackling.

And then Elizabeth’s terror flooded over her barriers and began pouring into the whirlpool of animal emotions in the area, primarily directed at all wasps right in front of her.

>> “Get that away from me!”

Agnes tilted her head curiously as she turned her attention on Liz and her panicked state. For a second the runaway truly didn’t know what she was talking about. What was she so scared of? Was some mutant kid attempting to startling them? Agnes turned and checked but there was nobody there. Maybe she Liz was playing a joke? But her expression was far too terrified to be faking. Then, as Agnes looked down she spied the wasp that hung persistently onto her finger.

Really? That was quite a reaction to such a little thing. Truthfully, though, Agnes was used to this type of reaction. People were not always the most comfortable around bugs. Apparently Liz was one of those extreme cases.

Frowning slightly that she caused her friend such discomfort, Agnes held her arm off to the side, blew a tiny breath sent the wasp skittering before it finally took to the air and flew off. She still frowned a little as she looked over at Liz.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered.

The only reason she apologized was really because she didn’t know what else to do. Bugs were attracted to her. They always came around, to check on her, to defend her, to simply be in her presence. It was not the best of mutations, but it belonged to her. It was her. And unfortunately that meant she was not always popular around people. Obviously, not everyone liked bugs.

She sighed a bit as she downcast her eyes some. She reached out and grabbed her sandwich, taking a small bite out of it. She hated to think that her mutation would ruin this beautiful and well thought out picnic. But suddenly thoughts bugs crawling over Liz’s food, of the poor teenager freaking out because Agnes did not have total control of her powers fluttered through her mind. She didn’t want to ruin this…but there was every possible chance she could. Just by being around.

A small sniffled as she took another bite. Way to go, she thought to herself.

Eyes glued to the dangerously beautiful bug, Liz tracked the menace’s progress until it fled from the clearing. Wasps and other stinging insects ranked number one on her list of irrational fears. The irony of it was that she shouldn’t have any fear of them: she could completely dominate the mind of any one of them or empathically fry them with heart-stopping terror or zombify them with pacifism. But that’s why it was an irrational fear.

It was the same with spiders. Flashes came to her, of an image of an exotic pet store with wolf spiders covering the floor. She could remember that debilitating fear, echoing into her from the auras of hundreds of terrified creatures, sending her farther and farther away. She could almost feel the bites of shards of glass puncturing her skin and the feeling of the cold, hard linoleum floor. It was that same fear that one, single wasp inspired in her.

Elizabeth visibly shuddered once the terror vanished from sensory detection. She hugged herself tightly, closing her eyes and hanging her head. She tried taking a deep breathe and frantically grasped at the walls in her mind, pulling them as high as possible, blocking out as much emotion as possible. A slight calming feeling spread over her, once her emotions stopped rebounding off of everything in the area. She didn’t even know if anything was still around. Small animals tended to run very quickly when scared, and Liz had given them enough fear to keep them awake for days.

>>>“I’m sorry.”

Liz drew her knees up to her chin before raising her head enough to see Agnes. The sight of the other girl confused Liz for a moment, then broke her heart the next. Was Agnes feeling responsible? Liz vaguely remembered the first time she met the older girl, that cold day outside the mansion. It had taken quite a while to get her to tell her her powers and when she did, Agnes had broken down. Agnes lived with a nest of overprotective wasps, flies, and roaches inside of her. And she attracted them like honey. Like that wasp.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no!” she burst out, trying to explain herself. “It’s not you, I’m…” Liz’ voice cracked and she broke off. How could she explain it? How could she get Agnes to see how scared she was of wasps? And how much it didn’t have anything to do with Agnes? Liz had known what Agnes could do within the first twenty minutes she’d known her! But she’d get the wrong impression. Again on that first encounter, Agnes had told her that people didn’t like her because of her powers. How would she understand Liz’ distinction?

Elizabeth dropped her gaze back to the blanket in front of her, curling inwards toward herself. “It’s just, she whispered, “It’s just…I’m…I’m scared of wasps."

Agnes really was very sorry for the whole thing. She could not always control when the insects came to her side. The majority of them were simply attracted to her because of some scent that only they could pick up. Agnes imagined that it must have smelled like home; something akin to the scent of freshly baked apple pie, quilt blankets, and a roaring fireplace for humans. The effect of wanting to be home, of wanting to be safe was very alluring to creatures of all types. She was only too sure that those bugs that came to her only wanted to feel that safety and security that comes with being home.

But not everyone handled the sight of insects very well. Agnes used to hate the feel of them, the sound of them, but over time, because of her mutation, she had learned that it was okay. That she did not have to be grossed out around the six-legged little beasts. That was why she could handle them. That was why she could sit there with a little stinging wasp skittering around her finger.

But not everyone has the resilience that she has. Some people, well, some people were just downright terrified of anything with more than four legs. Agnes same at not remembering this about Liz caused her to look downcast at the blanket still. She hated to ruin such a nice picnic…

>> “Oh no, no, no, no, no! It’s not you, I’m…”

Agnes looked up at Liz paused. The young teen seemed to be struggling to find the right kind of words. To most it would look like she didn’t know how to handle the situation or she was trying to choke her way out of it. But behind her eyes, Agnes could read her. She could see that the she was genuinely not placing any type of blame on the young runaway. The thought of that made Agnes feel just slightly better but it was obvious that Liz was not fully able to say why it was she was so freaked out.

Then…Liz looked just as distraught as she looked down at the blanket as well. My this blanket was certainly popular…

>> “It’s just…It’s just…I’m…I’m scared of wasps."

Agnes frowned a little. She didn’t want her friend to feel so petrified, especially since the wasp wasn’t going to attack unless she was threatened. But still, for someone with a fear like that, how do you explain that everything would be fine? But as the runaway sat, looking at her now downtrodden friend, a small spark lit off in the back of her neck. This was simply too silly. They shouldn’t be wasting their time like this, especially when there is so much good food and friendship between them.

So…there was only one solution…

Agnes, taking her sandwich up, subtly ripped off a small piece of bread and began to roll and pinch and roll it again, over and over between her fingers until it was a nice little wad of bread. Then, while Liz was staring at the blanket, Agnes tossed it (not too hard or soft) directly at the blonde’s head. Agnes grinned as she saw it strike the direct center of Liz’s forehead and then fall onto the ground between her legs.

Agnes snorted, hard, and tried to keep her laughter from getting too high. Stifling her giggle she bit into her sandwich and turned her gaze off to the side. There was too much fun to be had to waste time being in a slump…

Pft!

Something cool and spongy struck her between the eyebrows.

If she had been in a video game at the moment, the other team would’ve immediately won the game with that perfect headshot.

If she had been lying in her dorm room, Nico would’ve been throwing things at her to get her attention.

If she had been strapped to a metal table, the aliens would’ve been prepping for surgery.

But Liz was not in a video game, her room, or a UFO, being assaulted by bullets, toys, or scalpels. Instead, she was sitting on a blanket it the midst of a clearing from the influence of the mansion. Being attacked….by bread?

Upon classification of the projectile, Elizabeth jerked her head up and did a 360, looking for all the world like a cross between a hawk and an owl. Muddy brown eyes pierced the green growth around them, but no sliding, dripping, doughy mass was slinking through the trees. Laugh all you want at her antics, but Liz had fought bread monsters before and she still had vivid memories of it, despite the blurriness from seeing such a beast through a canine’s eyes.

But then her eyes locked onto the source of ammunition for that malicious projectile. A thin strip of bread had been violently torn off of a slice from Agnes’ sandwich, no doubt to be tortured into use as an insidious weapon of mass humiliation. And for the final evidence, that crucifying, maniacal laughter spawning from the brunette. And she obviously couldn’t face up to the consequences of her malignant atrocity.

So Liz picked up the bread, smeared a bit of mustard on it, and chucked it at Agnes’s exposed cheek. To teach her a lesson, of course. Because Liz never surrendered whilst waging war.

And if Agnes’ surprise assault screwed up Elizabeth’s pity-party, the cunning and deviousness of her opponent never even occurred to Liz.

Agnes grinned, attempted to continue to hide her smile from Liz as she looked off to the distance, her head turned. She was really surprised at her aim. She never thought that she could have ever hit that mark so clearly in a thousand years. But, low and behold, she managed to! That lump of bread struck Liz squarely in the center of her forehead and as much as she wanted to laugh (both triumphantly and in humor) she had to force herself to stay silent. After all, she did not want Liz to know right away that it was her.

But as the runaway sat there, staring at the greenery that was ahead of her, she found herself lost in the gentle breeze that whisked across her face. It really was a beautiful day and despite the former bad feelings, she was not going to give in to them. She was having too good of a time. People like Liz, Maya, Gina, they made her feel so good about herself.

She was simply not going to give in to her usual depression toda-

SPLAT![/b]

Agnes gasped as she felt some smoosh against her cheek. It was disgusting. It felt like she was a car windshield that had just smashed into a passing bug. Reaching up, in shock, she brushed her hand over her cheek and immediately dislodged whatever it was that had struck her. She looked down and there it was, something wadded up tight and covered in a yellow goo. Was it a bug? Maybe a bird actually pooed on her as it flew above? But no…it smelled…mustardy.

She reached up and brushed her cheek again and more of that goo stuck to her fingers. It was only upon closer inspection that she realized…it was mustard.

Who would have the audacity? The nerve? The gall to do something like thi-

A narrowed eyed glance to Liz and Agnes immediately knew who it was the whole time. Had she…really just retaliated like that? Well…there was not a lot of time for Agnes to question it because before she knew it…all she saw was red. Normally people let such things go. Say, “you know what? We’re even now. Good show!” But that was not the case this time. Oh now…

It.

Was.

On.

Her eyes narrowed, a smudge of mustard still on her cheek, casually reached for her plate of remaining, much cooler, mac-and-cheese and lifted it up. Then, eyes still on Liz, she grabbed her plastic spoon and scooped out a big helping of the cheesy concoction. There was a small smirk of a smile on her face as she aimed the spoon at Liz, pulled back the scoop as if it were a catapult and then…

FLIPPP!!

The end of the spoon shot forward and unleashed its payload directly for Liz’s face. If she wanted war…war is what she would get…

Eyes widened to the size of golf balls as the artillery-propelled pale-yellow cheesey pasta hurtled through the air in her direction. Shocked, Elizabeth merely sat there for the few moments it took for the projectile to hit its target. Okay, it had made little enough sense for Agnes to initiate this culinary warfare, but to keep it up? That was—

SPLOOOSH!

Mac-and-cheese splattered across her lower cheek and jawbone, which promptly fell open. It was bad enough that the cheese was kind of sticky and was hard to remove, but it was also warm. Her eyes narrowed as she reached a hand up to tentatively touch the site of impact. Clever of Agnes. It was definitely equal to, if not superior to the patch of mustard adorning the brunette’s cheek.

Her index and middle fingers touched cheese and her thumb brushed her hair. It too, had cheese and macaroni in it. Oh that was it, that was th—

Her taste buds reacted pleasantly once her fingers entered her mouth (to get the cheese off them of course). “Oh, that’s actually rather good, if I do say so myself.” Her eyes left Agnes for a moment as she savored the taste.

And then, fingers clean, she returned her attention back to her adversary. A wide smile proliferated on her face, just like an old grandma with a plate full of cookies. With rat poison in them. “Well, don’t let me hog all the food. Here, try the potato salad. I insist.” Pretty as you please, Liz leaned over and opened the Tupperware bowl of said salad. She grabbed a spoon for herself and put a nice, overly healthy-sized chunk of potato salad on it. She laid the handle of the spoon on the edge of the container facing Agnes.

Then she struck it hard with the side of her hand, creating a catapult all of her own, sending the whitish, mustard-laden, glob straight at Agnes. Granted, there was no real aim, but it was lined up with the older girl, and it was far harder than the simple spoon-bending of Agnes’ artillery.

She sat back and smiled like she owned the whole world.

Target…hit.

Agnes grinned a little self-satisfied with herself, her eyes narrowed in an “I-gotcha” look as she tilted her head to peer at Liz. The blonde sat there, absolutely shocked as mac-and-cheese was splattered over the side of her face and hair. For a second, just a second, Agnes felt a little bad. She did not mean to make that strike so much more messier than the mustard covered wedge of bread that she had been struck with but…war is war. Who cares if there is a little bit of extra damage? It just made her point come across all the more clearly.

But as Agnes sat there, looking just a little smug in her catapulting skills, she watched as the blonde tasted some of the mac-and-cheese that had adorned her cheek.

>> “Oh, that’s actually rather good, if I do say so myself.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Agnes beamed in response.

That had to be it. They would call a truce, fall over laughing about this and move on with their day. After all how can one really top a spoonful of cheesy pasta to the kisser? It was impossible! Besides, Agnes did not want to spend the rest of the day covered in food, especially when they had such a beautiful day outside to spend together. No more depression, no more guilt, no more food fighti-

Agnes arched a brow…and watched the expression on Liz’s face. If the blonde had been the Ark of the Covenant, Agnes was sure her face would have melted off.

>> “Well, don’t let me hog all the food. Here, try the potato salad. I insist.”

“Liz,” Agnes warned as she began to straighten herself up on the blanket. “Don’t you dare.”

She watched that sadistic faced blonde open up that container of potato salad, she saw the spoon dip into the chunky, gooey, pungent smelling contents, and then rest comfortable along the edge. For a moment Agnes thought that maybe Liz was going to reconsider. That there was going to be some common sense between them. After all, they were two teenage women! They had dignity, honor, and lived by reason and logic. They did not need to fight senselessly like animals or brutes!

But food fights are rarely won by reasoning. Liz apparently lived by this rule. And she proved it the second that she slammed her fist down onto the edge of the spoon and trebucheted the whitish glob directly at the brunette.

Agnes stood little chance of evading. Crystal blue eyes were wide with shock as the she watched time slow to a crawl: the clouds were frozen in the air, the beating of a nearby bird’s wings were clearly visible while it was in mid-air, and that blob of potato salad slowly grew more and more expansive in her field of vision. Agnes felt her face tighten up as she closed her eyes, set her lips into a tight line and attempted to close her nostrils…

Splaaaaaaat!

The sensation was cold against her skin. The gooey potato salad had struck her dead on and only a chunk or two actually fell off of her face. Her pale hands reaching up, she touched her face when she felt that offensive material and scoped it away from her closed eye. Gently she tasted the concoction on her fingertips and smirked. Hmm…it was good.

Sighing, Agnes licked some of the splattered potato salad off her lips and sighed as she opened her eyes and eyed Liz closely. Clearing her throat, she moved onto her knees and very slowly made her way to the picnic basket that near her. As she opened it she rummaged around for a second as she spoke to the blonde.

“You know, honey, I feel SO bad for getting your hair all messy,” she said as sweet as pie…laced with arsenic. “I…REALLY[/i] must make it up to you.”[/color]

Finally her hand pulled out from their basket a small paper bowl that had some of the shiniest, wiggliest, GREENEST, Jell-O covered in creamy whipped cream that ever adorned a picnic. Pulling the plastic wrap from the top of the bowl, she beamed so innocently as she held the disposable bowl in her free hand, the other resting on her hip.

Then…with all the gentleness of a kindly nurse, Agnes reached over and tipped the bowl directly onto the animal empath’s head. With a grin, Agnes carefully adjusted the bowl so it looked like a dainty designer’s hat atop Liz’s head. Leaning back on her legs, she crossed her arms over her chest and she seemed to be carefully eyeing Liz up and down approving. It was a good look.

Bull’s-eye. Or rather, Agnes’s-eye. Elizabeth smile remained frozen on her face, as if she were a china doll. In fact, she could barely see, with her cheekbones raised so high. She mentally wiped her hands together in satisfaction at what must surely be the closing shot of the war. Such a perfect, messy strike in a vital and central location must surely be the thing to break the opponent’s morale and make it surrender.

So as confident as she was in victory, Liz’s expression never changed when Agnes reached into the basket. Undoubtedly, she was looking for the peace contract to sign.

But then came those musical words in apologetic tones so beautiful that the lyrics could make a Greek god swoon. Elizabeth’s blood ran cold when she heard them and wariness glinted in her eyes. The muscles on her face locked up, in a permanent smile, too confused to do anything about them. And so, despite the slow rate in which the hand withdrew from the basket, wielding its terrible brew of jiggly Jello, Elizabeth physically couldn’t move.

And when the hand passed by her eyes and kept going, not much later, she felt the cold lime-flavored gelatin seep through her blonde hair down to her roots and scalp. She could feel the weight off the bowl, even after the hand was retracted and the enemy retreated to a safe distance. By then, Elizabeth’s mouth had finally dropped open in disbelief.

For a moment she could only stare. Then that triumphant glimmer in Agnes’s blue eyes made her own narrow. With Movie-Star Barbie’s smile back on, Liz shifted enough to reach into the basket herself. “Y’know, Agnes, I just love the way you spend so much time helping other people out on their appearance, making them look so much more beautiful,” Liz said, as cool as a glass of iced lemonade—laced with strychnine.

She began removing the covering to an item. “But I’m afraid that that leaves you with no time to worry about yourself. I mean, what you’re wearing is cute, but it could use some….yellow. Here, let me.” Just like she would fix a bow or a friend’s hair, Liz reached over and pressed a smashed, peeled banana to Agnes’s forehead. “And your hair! I think some blonde highlights would really make it pop!” So Liz also dragged the fruity mess up through the top of the hive-queen’s hair, leaving mushy chunks all through it.

She sat back on her side of the blanket and primly folded her filthy hands over her lap, batting her eyes oh-so-innocently.

Success! Agnes huffed a bit in victory as she looked over at her latest fashionable piece of art. She shall call it… “Girl With Wiggly Hat”. Oh if only she had a camera, it would have made a perfect piece. Maybe it would have made her famous, got her into the photography world, maybe made her absolutely rich and famous so she would never have to fear her parents’ sudden appearance again! Ah…it was a perfect plan. And even Liz seemed to enjoy it, especially judging by that priceless expression on her face.

But seriously…this had to be the end of it. After all, if they continued with such, they were going to end up losing all their food from this loving picnic. And besides, Agnes was the one that packed such lovely fruit. She had to sneak into the kitchen early to grab the freshest and most pristine pieces before Neddie Glooer, a fellow mutant student who could only survive on fruit, got there first.

She smiled at Liz and opened her mouth to show her apology as well as her want to end this still food fight when…

>> “Y’know, Agnes, I just love the way you spend so much time helping other people out on their appearance, making them look so much more beautiful.”

Uh-oh she thought.

The look on the blonde’s face made the runaway’s blood turn cold. A visible shiver ran up her spine as she felt the presence of something absolutely evil roll through her body. This…was definitely not going to turn out well…

>> “But I’m afraid that that leaves you with no time to worry about yourself. I mean, what you’re wearing is cute, but it could use some….yellow. Here, let me…”

Agnes saw the banana. She wanted to protest, she wanted to yell at Liz to be reasonable! But all she managed was a small squeak the second she felt that squishy fruit collapse against her forehead.

Ick. Oh, it was indeed a disgusting feeling. Agnes loved that yellow piece of fruit as much as the next person, but that did not mean she ever wanted to wear it! Her eyes tightly closed, the smell of smashed banana along with pungent potato salad made her cringe. A sickening shiver ran down her spine as Agnes was about to reach up and wipe the wipe the remnants off her face when she realized that Liz was not actually done with her yet.

>> “And your hair! I think some blonde highlights would really make it pop!”

The banana, peel and all, was smeared up into her hair! Agnes twitched the second she felt that gooey mess roll up her forehead and into her scalp. She sensation was both tingly and disgusting. The smashed mess of the fruit and the slick peel was now so deep in her hair that it would take twenty showers in order to get it all out!

She shivered a little as she slowly opened her eyes and spied that Liz was now leaning back and admiring her handiwork. Agnes narrowed her eyes and heard a distinctive tribal music in her mind that wanted to call her to war!

And she would have too…if not for the glob of banana that fell off her forehead and splattered against her jeans. Glancing down, Agnes eyed the gooey mess before she looked up at Liz who stood there so triumphantly. And suddenly…

…without warning…

…without provocation…

…Agnes began to laugh.

Just seeing Liz in all her glory: bits of bread on her forehead, globs of mac-and-cheese across her hair and face, and finally a upturned bowl of jell-o and whipped cream that adorned her head was just too funny to ignore anymore. Agnes almost began forget to breathe as the outright belly laughing shook her through and through! Tears welling up in her eyes because of her inability to stop, Agnes futilely wiped them away as she laughed so hard she thought her lungs were going to burst.

This was just…so insane…but it was just so funny.

“L-L-Liz...!” Agnes gasped and continued to laugh good naturedly. “I-I’m sorry! Hehehehe! HAhaha! I-It’s just…HAHAHAH!!! You have to see--hehehe--your FACE! HAHAAA!” She finally…finally calmed down long enough to breath as she looked over at Liz. “I love so. T-Thank you so much for being my friend.” she grinned and said earnestly.

Elizabeth’s right wheaten eyebrow twitched into an arch. Did she just….win? Had Agnes given up in defeat? Her feigned-naïve smile tightened a bit and shrank. Was it really that easy? All it took was a banana to incapacitate her foe with laughter? It seemed too good to be true. In fact, it seemed like a wonderful set-up for a surprise attack. As Agnes had no doubt figured out by then, laughter debilitated them both.

Her eyes narrowed a bit and wariness sparked in them. Her smile brightened, but it may have looked a hint plastic to anyone. Her hands remained folded on lap and she remained completely still, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She would not be surprised, she would not be surprised, she would not be surprised.

But Agnes kept laughing….and shaking….and crying....If she was putting on an act, it was an exceptionally convincing one. And it kept going, and going. Okay, she was quite a bit confused. And then Agnes started talking. Like, non-food-fighty stuff. So maybe…just maybe…it was real.

Liz hung her head and shook it as she smiled broadly. Okay, she had to admit, it WAS pretty funny. “Heh, as if you looked any better,” she said, smirking. And she didn’t. Liz chuckled a bit as she admired her culinary artistry. With mustard war paint on her cheek, potato salad covering the other half of her face, and mashed banana all over her forehead and the top of her head, Agnes was quite a sight. All that yellow on her clashed with her blouse and pants, making it look like the 70s threw up on her.

She returned Agnes’s grin. “That’s what I’m here for.” She beamed angelically at her friend, forgetting all about the dogs of war, until a thought struck her. “That, and making a killer dessert.” And because they had destroyed most of their food, Liz pulled out the last, and best, of their kitchen concoctions. Grabbing the proper utensils, she began slicing the pineapple upside down cake. But this time, it would go in their bellies and not on their faces.

Hopefully.

Agnes finally caught her breath as she stopped the torrent of laughter that had attempted to escape from her lips. She her sides were splitting, it was hard to breathe but slowly she was regaining control of her body. It was simply that the mental image of Liz, sitting there with the bowl of jello on her head, macaroni and cheese all over her face and hair and splatterings of bread to top it all off just continued to make her giggle. It took a few tries but she finally managed to push that image of Liz to the side of her brain so it was not so tickly.

She still smirked though. It was a hell of an image to have imprinted on her brain.

And on top of all that, Agnes could only imagine what she looked like: the banana smooshed into her hair, the mustard on her nose, the face full of potato salad, all of it was just too much to really contain her mirthful joy. The pair of them must have indeed looked a sight to passing students. Heck, they probably looked like a good traveling snack to any passing birds!

All these thoughts sent her into another fit of giggles before she finally just shook her head and turned her eyes upon Liz. The girl was sweet, fun and she really just made her day. Their perfectly innocent picnic had turned into a war of the foods. And both of them were victorious.

>> “That’s what I’m here for…That, and making a killer dessert.”

Agnes chuckled as she nodded her head. Unfortunately a vast majority of their food had been wasted in their war for supremacy. But at least neither of them had dared to bring out the heavy artillery that was the pineapple upside-down cake. The runaway had surely been waiting for this one. Curse her sweet tooth.

She smirked as Liz eyed her wearily and began to slice into the delectable looking baked good. She knew that Liz was anticipating that more of their grand food war was going to follow. But Agnes knew better than to waste cake that was that exquisite looking. If she HAD wanted to continue it, there would be other, better, times. Such as when Liz was sleeping. After all, Agnes knew her room number.

With a grateful sigh, the food smeared Agnes took the offered slice of cake and waited for Liz to serve herself. Once she had, Agnes lifted her fork to her in a toasting gesture.

“To us,” she smirked through some remaining potato salad.

Liz clinked her plastic fork against Agnes’, “To us.” She matched Agnes’ smirk with an actually sincere grin. Her eyes crinkled just looking at Agnes. Oh yes, they were indeed worthy of a toast of cake. If only because the current image of Agnes would be burned into Elizabeth’s brain for eternity, giving her a very vivid picture to laugh at countless time. Granted, she doubted she looked any better, but it was always more fun to laugh at someone else rather than yourself.

Liz cut a small portion of her cake and lifted it to her mouth. Her eyes closed in rapture as her teeth closed over the fork, trapping the baked delight behind pearly white gates. It tasted much better than she had imagined it would. It was the perfect food to eat at picnic peace talks. There could be no more war with such delicacies on the blanket. Doing so would be unthinkable.

And so it was, that such a wonderful day could happen. The early morning baking and making had started the day off beautifully. Then she and her good friend had strolled out to a nice scenic location away from the hustle and bustle of a school full of mutant youngest. They had listened to enchanting music and they had played with their food. Not to mention the bouts of debilitating giggling interspaced between each and every event as transitions.

Simply put, it was the best Saturday Liz had had in a long time.