"Why are you smiling?" Tom asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Huh?" I come out of my daze.

"You've been really happy lately...I don't like it" Tom says while subtly glaring at me.

I chuckle softly and walk back to the couch where he was seated. It was one of those lazy Sundays, too hot to go out and do anything and Tom's AC units were monstrously stronger than mine.

I agreed to come over if he'd let me practice baking a new recipe I found in his kitchen, and he agreed to it if I promised not to give him my finished results to try it.

Win win.

"You're all happy and smiling and zoning out," Tom whined some more, folding his arms. "You better not be in love!" he eyed me.

"Jesus no!" I cry, sitting down next to him with my baked goods in hand.

"What. The. Heck...Is fucking that!?" he points at my tray in mortal fear.

I look down at my creation. "It's French!" I say gleefully, holding the tray closer up to his face, most particularly his nose, for inspection.

"It's repulsive is what that shit is," Tom said, leaning away from me.

I pull the tray back, "You hurt my feelings," I say in my most anime voice, spreading out my eyes for him.

"You don't have feelings" Tom snorted.

"True..." I agree, picking up a baked piece and shoving it in my mouth.

I chew once...twice...and make a face.

"Is it good, or should I have 911 on speed dial?" Tom says, snatching up his phone with lightning speed.

I slowly chew on more and painfully swallowed the whole lump. I smack my tongue against my lips and look at a slightly cautious Tom.

"Well..." I begin to say, "We now know why the French are so damn skinny."

Tom eyes me, then the food. "I'm still keeping Ralph on speed dial, in case your face turns blue, green, purple or something!"

"How is Ralphy-boy anyway?" I asked as I settled into the couch.

"Still fighting that court case," Tom simply says.

An image of Ralph in court flashed through my mind.

Ralph was Tom 'personal' EMP. Whenever Tom has one of his rare episodes, Ralph is always the best man to handle it. So much so that rarely anyone gets sent in to take care of Tom but Ralph.

Sad thing is, Ralph decided to publicly come out as gay and the law has been at his throat ever since.

Being gay wasn't a public practice that was allowed in our town. You could flirt and date on the downlow. But come out publicly with it and you could face massive jail time.

Ralph was against the whole idea and tried to fight it, but...

"You think he'll win?" I asked Tom.

Tom shrugged his shoulder, "I doubt things will go down the way he wants it to." He simply says, his words being beyond cryptic.

Come to think of it, Ralph was probably the only gay guy Tom wasn't a blundering idiot around.

The mood had suddenly grown heavy, so I decided to change things up abit.

"So-" I tossed the tray of whatever-the-hell-it-was-I-just-baked away and sprayed my body across Tom's torso. "What's the plan for today?"

Tom eyes the mess I made, "You're cleaning that up" he points.

"We could go to the park, the arcade, a bar-"

"I am definitely not cleaning that shit up"

"The amusement park, the shooting ring, swimming pool" I paused for a moment. "Or! Or...we could-"

"Fuck?"

"Ermfgh!?" I choke on my own words.

"That shut her up," Tom grins evilly at himself and pushes me forcefully off him.

"Not funny" I breathe out.

"It is for me"

My phone begins to blast music from the side table.

"Bitch! Did you change my ringtone again!?" I scream at Tom.

He shrugs and switches on the TV.

"One of these days I'll find a password you can't crack!" I seethe at him, I grab my phone and walked off towards the kitchen.

"Good luck with that SexyKiller69!"

"Grrrrr!" I march into the kitchen. "Hello!?" I yell at whoever was on the other end.

"Communications Tower, 3 dead, move"

Click!

"You gotta love Sally and her to-the-point attitude" I mumble.

I walk back to the to the living room, "Do I have any gear here?" I ask Tom hastily as I jogged up the stairs.

"You have a Sig Pro 9mm and one knife." He calls back. "Check the second top drawer, I think you have some clothes there"

I took off my clothes and put on the black tank top, leather jacket and skin-tight jeans.

I'm back downstairs within 20 seconds.

Tom hasn't moved an inch from the couch, but his hands were held up in the air hold a pair of biker's gloves.

"Thanks," I take them from him and pull them on. "Gun? Knife?" I then ask.

Tom pulls open the side table drawer to reveal them. I hoist the gun on my waist and slide the knife into my waist band.

"Sure that's enough?" Tom asked.

"No time to branch home, we already have 3 dead." I turn to the door.

"Better make that 5." Tom says, flicking the channel to a news network.

I already had my hand on the handle, "Here!" I hear Tom call.

I turn in time to catch the black headband he'd tossed at me.

"Don't want a repeat of the flamethrower incident" He teased with a grin.

"Bring that up one more time and I swear I'll kill you," I chuckle as I put on the headband which thankfully pushed my hair out of my face.

And with that I run out the door.

"Goodluck!" I hear Tom scream behind me.