“Ah! This is the life, eh Matty?” Mello leaned back against his partner with a contented sigh, kicking his feet up on the couch. Matt rolled his eyes and shut off his game.

“You know we're only free for a few more days, right?” he mumbled, tossing his DS to the side. “Emma does have a life outside of us muses, after all.”

“The hell's she need college for anyway?” Mello snarled.

“As if she could make her living writing fanfiction..,” said Near, hidden within the massive card pyramid he was building around himself a few feet from the couch.

“Fine, fine, point taken,” Mello conceded, waving his hand about in the air. “Well, what about that novel of hers, then? Didn't she say she was taking the whole month of February to finish it, and would be putting all her fanfics on hold again?”

“Yeah, that's why she's letting us have free reign for now,” Matt added, idly twining his fingers in Mello's scraggly hair. The blonde's eyes slid shut as he snuggled comfortably closer to his redheaded pet.

“Free reign, ha! She's still spending more time with the novel muses than with us, and they're taking their sweet time plotting out the rest of the book,” Mello continued. “Those bums are just inspiring a bunch of useless oneshots and distracting Emma from writing about more important people, like me.”

“Do you even realize you're being watched?” Mello cracked open one eye, frowning to see the face of a much more annoying redhead peering over the back of the couch at them.

“Speak of the devil,” he grumbled. “If you want to see a show, Mikael, go read that lemon Emma still hasn't finished.”

“Not by me, short stuff.” The newcomer grinned, sweeping a lock of dark red hair away from his face and tucking it into his headband. “Emma's recording all of this right now.”

“Short?!” Mello yelled, sitting up straight and pulling a pistol from his hip in one swift motion. “And just what are you, huh? Some freakishly tall version of me, and nothing more!”

“Think that way if you want,” Mikael chided, aiming his own revolver at Mello, “but I've got a bigger gun and better aim. And besides, I'm the favorite.”

“Not this again..,” Matt muttered.

“The hell you are!” Mello snapped, gun shaking with rage in his hand. “I won't be the number two muse, especially not to you!”

“Guys, guys!” Reeve called out, fluffy brown hair bouncing as he ran up to them. “Quit arguing, will you? Emma just wants us to do a little spiel for her profile...”

“Her fanfiction writer's profile,” Near chimed in, standing up so that just his head and shoulders could be see above the rows of cards. “I do not see the point of having you two original fiction muses here.”

“Well, as of now, we're taking over Emma's brain again,” Mikael said, sliding his gun back into its holster. “Besides, you kids can't even stay focused long enough to tell those nice readers out there to visit Emma's LiveJournal and DeviantArt.”

“Or about how Emma's focusing all her energy on her novel right now, but will get around to writing the next chapter of Scooby as soon as she can. Even if that may not be until March, or later..,” Reeve added, wearing a nervous smile. “She really hates to keep you fanfiction muses on hiatus for so long, but...”

“Yeah yeah yeah, the novel comes first, we know,” Mello mumbled, stuffing his gun back into his pants.

“Getting back on topic, you've forgotten to mention that Emma may also be contacted through MySpace,” Near said, curling a wisp of white hair around his finger. “However, as she is nearly as anti-social as myself, she will only accept friend requests if a message is included to indicate the specific reason for the request.”

“Also, her AIM screen name is shiningdelusion,” Matt yawned, “but she's not on very often. She's recently become a moderator on the Muse Bunny forum, though.”

“And... that's it, right?” Mello said, reclining back to lie across Matt's lap. “Besides the fact that reviews make her giddy and often motivate her to write more...”

“And that those who don't review will be hunted down by her two most deadly muses,” Mikael lilted, grinning slyly down at Mello.

“Now that's something we can actually agree on,” Mello replied, flashing a white hint of canines at the thought.

“Okay, I think we're done with the profile stuff, Emma!” Reeve called out. “Now what should we–”

The room went black and, with the exception of some muttered curses and falling tarot cards, was quiet.

“So, Reeve,” Mello sighed, “you're sure you're not related to anyone named Matsuda?”