A/N: OMG WHAT IS THIS? ME DOING ANOTHER SERIES? I MUST BE GOING MAD! But anyways, I got the idea for this after I started watching Kaichou wa Maid-sama! (which I'm totally loving, btw), but don't worry, this AllenxLenalee series will have quite a different story line from it. However, there are a lot of terms I use that may be foreign or unclear to you, so please take a moment to read some of them below:

Moe: Japanese slang word that can mean 'a person who is in love/obsessed with an anime/manga/video game character' or refers to a character who is 'innocently adorable' or 'budding with adorableness'.

Okaerinasaimase: welcome back!

Goshujin-sama: master

Kawaii: cute, adorable

Fuwa Fuwa: light, fluffy, spongy

Moyashi: beansprout

Tsundere: a character who acts tough and cold-hearted on the outside, but on the inside is actually/becomes kind and caring.

Kari Kari Chu Chu: game played in Japan with pocky. Involves two players, and each one must have one end of a pocky stick in their mouth. They then eat the pocky until their lips touch.

Head's-Up: poker term that means a one-on-one battle.

Okay, I think I got them all. But anyways, please... if possible... ENJOY! *crosses fingers*

The air had turned into a psychological candy shop, a sweets sanctuary for the mind; every blink like sweeping strands of candy floss manipulating you into a web of sweet stickiness, every heartbeat like freshly poured soda powering a herd of tropical-flavoured pop rocks, every breath like love at first bite. From inside the heavenly cove, one could almost see the noxiously pink fumes of perfume snaking about, the kind of vaporous serpents that reeked of everything feminine and cute and made you want to squeal in frightful glee at nothing in particular.

Moe had never seemed so scarily real.

Yet here Allen stood, pathetically pondering whether he should be a man and walk right into the place, or forever remain a loitering moe-virgin. Biting his bottom lip, he gathered up every precious ounce of testosterone his pint-sized adolescent body could produce; he was ready to risk his manliness on the Toxically Moe battlefield, a battle that would no doubt starve him of all his mannerisms and replace them with kinky adolescent pleasures that brainwashed the mind into a world of customized hentai.

Just the name of the café itself— Toxically Moe— suggested complete mind intoxication, implied that a whole arsenal of moe-approved poisons would readily fuck the brain into a state of fluffy, heart-shaped death. All finished off with a cutesy bow. Oh yes, Allen was aware of the deadly cache of poisons that would no doubt eat his mind away if he were to dare enter the maid café before him; first would be Kawaii, a poison that acts quickly on the heart by first making it beat with ridiculous ecstasy, then swiftly creates a feeling of sugar-coated euphoria that remodels the mind into a habitat for breeding dirty thoughts. Then came the mysterious poison Tsundere, a toxin that would at first tickle your ego into a superfluous sense of supremacy when suddenly, it'd take your nervous system hostage, forcing it to develop feelings of tender loving care that scare you so much, some have been said to even lose consciousness. And after that….

After that, not even Allen knew what came next.

Entering a maid café had never before seemed like such a deadly form of suicide.


With a classic moyashi whimper (which was technically a mixture of high-pitched screaming, whimpering, and pubescent vocal cords) Allen stumbled around himself, coming face to face with a wildly-smirking Fou.

"Shut up!" he failed to whisper the words, instead spitting them in over-dramatic defence. "I have never seen lace panties in my life, Fou!"

She gave him a look that clearly thought otherwise. "You do know what awaits you once you go in there… right?"

She was obviously referring to the maid café. But just the way she had lowered her voice, had so sinisterly allowed the shadow to fall across her eyes so as to make one's extremities shiver extensively, made Allen want to piss himself. He suddenly had a very bad, bad feeling…


"First," Fou was now leading Allen a safe distance away from Toxically Moe, her arm placed forcefully around his neck, "they'll bombard you with their sing-songy welcome bullshit that's intended to make every man jizz a little…"

"But Fou, this isn't even a pro—"

"THEN," she raised her voice, evidently not even close to being finished, "they'll twirl around you in a cyclone of boobs and lace, torturing you with their empty-cal words and creepily perfect shoulder massages!"

Allen's sweat glands were on the verge of crying. "That's, um, not that—"

"And finally, just when you think you have enough time to give birth to a fresh batch of testosterone…" Fou leaned in close, her eyes glinting with a fiery disgust Allen thought she only used in battle. "They feed you."

"Feed me?" The world had brightened considerably.

"Aye… omelette and rice."


"Pink omelette and rice, Walker. PINK."

The word echoed corrosively through his head, pink… pink… pink…

"But Fou, how do you—"


With unnecessary violence Allen was thrown right into the entrance of Toxically Moe, nearly ensuing a crash-landing with a cat-eared, fluffy-skirted waitress.

"Okaerinasaimase, goshujin-sama!"

He had officially, irreversibly, entered the superbly pink and frilly domain…. of moe.


His mind was already a puddle of sugary neurotic slush. All he could see were female bodies dripping in lace and frills and bows and… dear god, he never knew so many bows could exist at one time and not threaten to cause a deadly pandemic. Allen's senses were overcome with synaesthesia as the smell of chocolate-covered pinkness threatened to turn him into a heavily gawking figure of mad mindlessness.

"Where would you like to sit today, goshujin-sama?"

Allen gave the waitress a blank look, his vocal cords failing to fulfill their role as a communication device. His mouth was trying its absolute hardest to form a comprehendible syllable, but the smile exploding off the waitress' face was tranquilizing every mouth muscle into an instantaneous bout of unconsciousness.

"He's with us."

Before he could even comprehend what was going on, Allen was being manoeuvred towards a table overtaken by a fungus of doilies and glitter, his distress nearly stopping him from recognizing the people sitting around the heavily infected table: Krory and Chaoji.

With a jolt, he was placed rather harshly into his chair by Lavi.

"So the Moyashi's still alive, eh?"

"Not funny Lavi."

He tried his best to optically murder the red-headed mouthpiece (who was now comfortably sitting next to him) with a steely glare; however, his attempt at supernatural murder was hastily interrupted as a frothing pink beverage planted itself on the table, clouds of fairy-pink foam bubbling over the rim with chaotic messiness.


Not a word escaped his mouth as a hot towel was efficiently spread atop his hands. A waitress, with hair like bloated twirls of black licorice and cocoa eyes the size of fire-roasted marshmallows, was now quite comfortably tidying his hands with the hygienic warmth of a fuzzy pink towel, delicately pressing into his hands and blanketing his skin in soft, melodic warmth…

Hell, the towel wasn't the only thing that felt rather fuzzy…

The waitress suddenly stood up, a vivacious sort of smirk highlighting her face in a way that made her dimples turn gothic and her sweeping eyelashes pollinate her eyebrows. That was when Allen realized that she too had been infected by the disease consuming the table; her maid-outfit was heavily infected with lacy bows, their deadly shape scarring her neck and enveloping her arms, munching away at her snow-flushed skin in horrifying numbers. The bows almost looked like living, breathing organisms, leaching away at her sanity till nothing was left but a tabula rasa of moe mentality. Allen prayed feverishly that the disease wasn't of the highly contagious variety.

"My name is Alice, and I'll be your personal maid for today!" the way she sung the words hypnotized the entire table into an obvious state of disillusioned bliss. "Please feel free to ask me any questions you may have, and I hope you have a toxically moe-moe time!" And, having said that, the heavily-diseased waitress named Alice had tra-la-la'd off at hyper-cute speed into a room Allen could only guess contained more moe-moe minions.

Thankfully, a shrill whistle broke his thoughts from adventuring any further. "Some damn fine eye-candy, eh boys?" Lavi had obviously given the café his stamp of approval.

"It makes me miss Eliade ever so terribly," Krory sniffled, tears seasoning the rims of his eyes.

"What, did Eliade serve you in maid attire all the time or something?" Lavi seemed to swoon at his own remark, never one to miss an opportunity for kinky chitchat.

"I beg your pardon?"

"SO, Allen," the Bookman apprentice had suddenly switched over to a look of mild seriousness. "Is the plan still a go?"

"I dunno…" Allen was too distracted making his straw perform flimsy pirouettes in his drink to answer properly; he still had no idea what the drink was, but had hypothesized it was some kind of poison when he discovered pop rocks erupting from out of its swampy fuchsia surface. Fou's words were freakishly replaying in his head.

"What, you don't think it's ethical?"

"Well, not exactly…"

"Allen," Lavi was leaning across the table now, his eye glazed in a competitive ocular marinade. "Look at this place. It's fucking moe heaven on earth."

He shifted self-consciously in his seat, the pink interior threatening to overtake his reasoning skills.

"Stay with me here Allen!"


"So anyways," he regained his former semi-mature tone. "If we wanna beat the girls, we have no other choice."

Much as he hated to admit it, Lavi had a point. For days all the girls of the Order had gathered at the Asian branch to strategize and discuss plans for the annual Black Order fundraiser, an event that, although supposed to be annual, rarely ever took place. All events were open to the public, a rule that effectively generated a little extra money for the Order as well as helped create an environment for healthy socialization. According to Komui, the fundraiser was a "friendly battle of the sexes, meant to spawn friendships and raise money for a worthy cause", and the winner would be determined by whichever team could raise the most money in three weeks. Participation was mandatory, and teams had been decided on before the announcement: all the females of the Order, all the males, and finally, the entire science division, with each team being allowed to break into smaller groups so long as they remained with their appropriate teammates.

So far, however, participation seemed to be rather half-ass; both Fou and Kanda were just two of the people Allen had immediately noticed not openly participating in any events (even though Lavi had declared Kanda had eagerly agreed to help them), and, on top of that, none of the "higher-ups" or generals had made an appearance as of yet to help support the cause. But, regardless of Allen's realizations, there was absolutely nothing he could do about being stuck in a maid café, in the middle of the Asian branch, discussing with his team how best to raise money over a glamorously salivating cup of pink liquid. It didn't get much more fucked than that.

He stood corrected as Alice re-approached them, her arms burdened with four plates of perfectly fluffy, perfectly placed, and, scariest of all, perfectly pink omelette and rice. With graceful sensuality she placed the dishes before the four exorcists, her arms squeezing with mild self-awareness against her chest in a way that made her boobs pop up delightfully. Allen could feel himself gaping, his senses fully imperialized by his newly awakened id.

With a giggle capable of inflicting diabetes, Alice gave a curt bow, her cheeks stained the color of crushed rose petals as she straightened back up. "Enjoy your meal goshujin-sama!"

Under normal circumstances, Allen would've zealously attacked the plate of food like a mannerless farm animal; however, he had yet to experience a plate of fuwa fuwa pinkness staring back at him like this. Somehow, the girlish color hadn't elicited the usual jump of his stomach the same way normal-hued food could.

Chaoji was the first to brave the silence. "Did we order this?"

"Guess they read minds too," Lavi remarked rather bluntly, his jewel-encrusted fork poking the pink mound before him rather uncertainly. "Although I thought they were supposed to write stuff with ketchup…"

"You're so smart goshujin-sama!" Alice had magically popped up from behind Lavi's chair, a bottle of (thankfully) red ketchup clutched in her hand. "Did you really think I had forgotten?"

All Lavi could do was laugh with flirtatious awkwardness as Alice busily squirted a message onto his dish of exotic pinkness. "Ta-da!"

Like a butterfly fuelled by pixy stick life support Alice made her way around the table, artfully squirting ribbons of glistening ketchup kanji onto everybody's steaming omelettes. Allen was pleased to see the words "Kawaii Moyashi" decorating his feminine plate of egg and rice.

"Enjoy, goshujin-sama!"

Again, she frolicked off to her lair of moe madness, a lacy set of underwear peek-a-booing hello to the boys as her skirt skipped jovially about her thighs.

"Is she really from the Order?" the question Allen had been meaning to ask finally made it out of his brain.

"Apparently the girls are allowed to bring in any friends they might have, since they have way less people than us guys," Lavi mumbled, his mouth now filled with the collaborative pink juices of egg and rice. "Rumor has it all the maids are Lou Fa's friends."

"EHH?" A piece of slimy pink egg nearly launched itself into Allen's airway. "LOU FA'S HERE?"

"Say it a little louder why don't you! We are at the Asian branch dipshit!"

As if summoned to, Allen turned his head to the right, and, with inevitable unexpectedness, laid eyes on a gleefully waving Lou Fa, maid-outfit and all. Feeling his body temperature drop a few million degrees, he frantically gulped back his toxic pink drink; regrettably, the cherry-tastic vibration of effervescent liquid fireworks whizzing down his throat did nothing to alleviate his discomfort.

"Oh, and to avoid any other future surprises," Lavi hissed, apparently feeling the need to talk at a secretive volume, "Lenalee's also working here."

Allen immediately began choking on his beverage; the liquid sliding down his throat had suddenly taken on a much more lethal, sharp-edged taste. For a moment he seriously thought he was ingesting pink-disguised antifreeze.

"Christ Allen, you act as if you've never been to one of these places before!"

"I-I haven't."

He was growing quickly wary of Lavi's intensifying smirk. "Really? I would've thought Cross'd brought you to these kinda joints all the time—"

"LAVI!" Pretty pink spoon dangerously in hand, Allen was preparing to gauge Lavi's cocky little Bookman eyeballs out when a hand had firmly grabbed hold of his wrist. "Think before you act, Walker."

Oh great, Link had come to join the party. Allen felt like giving him a welcoming dump on the crotch with his deliciously revolting pink drink, but regrettably withheld the urge.

"Oh my, another wonderfully handsome goshujin-sama has arrived!" Alice had yet again performed her appear-out-of-thin-air act, and was shoving the newly arrived Link into a chair with a speed that seemingly produced its very own rainbow-colored stardust.

Link, amidst the whole moe assault, had adopted a rather pleasing expression of winded disorientation; he had obviously not at all been prepared to face the kawaii violence brooding within the café's walls. And, to make the moment even more priceless, the cherry on top of the whole ordeal was when Link's gloves were briskly removed from his hands and scrubbed clean with the help of Alice's soothing hot towel treatment.

"Atta boy Link, take it all in!" Both Lavi and Allen were laughing with rude intensity at Link's rare display of befuddlement, the overdose of sugar (most likely from the unknown drink concoction) thrusting them into a state of incredibly bad-mannered hollering.

Eventually, however, the boorish display of hysterically wild laughter was brought to an end; mostly due to Link's threat that he'd report Allen and Lavi to Central if they continued their "unruly and completely unnecessary" behaviour. Chaoji and Krory had just sat in gauche silence.

Now that the sugar had begun working its magic on Allen's mental processes and bodily actions, the tangy pink drink—initially believed to have been a cup of sweetly disguised poison—was being downed like crack-infused milk. His body was twitching all over in hyper-idiot mode, arousing within him a desire to blurt dirty thoughts and participate in blaringly obvious stare fests (along with Lavi, of course, who was also becoming highly interested in the bubbly pink beverages of glitter and shine).

"Okay Allen, serious question here," Lavi was bending low towards the table, his eyes darting back and forth in rapid excitement. "What size do you think Alice is?"

Before he could even answer, Link was face-palming in evident censure (Alice had insisted on holding his notepad, thus forcing him to participate in the table's growingly unreasonable conversation). The sugar was making his thoughts turn so terrifically sparkly, all responses became consequently delayed.

"How am I supposed to know? I don't buy skirts Lav—"

"Dumbass!" Allen was rewarded a punch in the shoulder, making his head churn like a fire-filled snow globe. "I mean cup size."

"…. OH."

Not trying in the least to be discreet in his visionary gauging, Allen did an extremely rough calculation of Alice's chest, dusty old measuring tips from Cross suddenly littering his mind. He chose to semi-ignore these.


"A solid B."

"OHO, that's what I was gonna say! Great minds think alike—"

A purposefully intrusive clearing of the throat emanated from Link's segment of the table.

"What, you have an objection to that Link?" Lavi and Allen were eying him coolly.

"Not a bit."

Snickering rather loudly, Lavi leaned in towards Allen, a wild grin animating his face. "Oi, I bet Link secretly measures all the time…"

"I highly recommend you stop making such vulgar accusations." Link had proceeded in taking out his emergency notepad, his pen suspended threateningly over top, ready to tattle. A deliberate 'click' confirmed his seriousness.

The Bookman-to-be purposefully turned away from Link (though this proved to be quite difficult considering he sat across from him) and hastily guzzled Chaoji's untouched pink drink in his efforts to extinguish the lethal levels of awkwardness. "Right, uhh, what were we talking about before?"

"You were talking about cup sizes, silly goshujin-sama!" Alice was suddenly beaming before them all as if she'd just managed to set up the perfect blind date.

The table of men, meanwhile, responded to the surprise eavesdrop attack with a fantastic display of "fuck-my-life" silence, one that ravaged the table and made them all look like open-mouthed bug-eyed sea creatures screaming on mute. They had officially been left to die in the middle of the moe jungle, mere prey for the carnivorous fangs of the maid leopard Alice.

"Huh? What's wrong goshujin-sama?" Alice continued to make the situation ten times worse by acting like she had no idea what naughty trickery she was playing at. "Didn't you wanna see our different cup sizes? All you had to do was ask!"

Link's pen hit the table.

"Lookie! We have size A, B, or C!" Three different sized pink-tinted cups had now poofed into Alice's lace-gloved hands, hot pink labels identifying them as either size A, B, or C.

The triviality of the whole situation was bordering on unbearable.

"Oh, and Alice also heard that goshujin-sama knows Lena-chan?" she giggled the question with such malicious sweetness, Allen could've sworn his immune system had shut down. None of the men had recuperated enough to answer the yes or no question, providing Alice with the chance to chatter on. "Well in that case, I'll go get Lena-chan right now goshujin-sama, you simply must see her!"

The entire party of bewildered males shrieked their objection, but Alice the moe-jungle cat was already stalking away in selective hearing mode, leaving her prey alone and terrified.

"This is so fucked," Lavi was the first to speak, his voice coming out loud and crackly from all the shock. The rest of the table, meanwhile, was still trying to lock away pre-imagined images of Lenalee in a maid outfit, their faces all contorted into knots of guilty self-restraint. Allen particularly felt like his mind was about to blow-up in surrender to all the moe attacks. That was when he noticed Lavi shooting him an unnerving glance, his single eye shimmering like a shadow-bathed emerald suspended in a socket of secrets.

"What're you looking at me for?"

Lavi continued his gaze of subtle bully. "You prepared for this, Allen?"


Fully enjoying his current mood of gay-ass riddling, Lavi turned away from the confused exorcist, leaving Allen to glare at the side of his face rather unclimatically. The desire to throw cutlery at him was quickly returning.

"What, Lavi?"

"No seriously, it's nothing" he smiled, pink straw waving from between his teeth. "I'm just excited to see how long it takes."

"How long it takes till what?"

His only response was a spit-coated straw in the face.

"Absolutely not."

"Aww, come on Lena-chan!" Alice put on her most spectacular, knee-buckling pout. "They'll be so happy to see you in your super cutesy maid outfit!"

Lenalee pivoted around in evident discomfort. "The answer's no, Alice."

"Hmph! Well you're no fun."

A nerve exploded somewhere inside Lenalee's head. Just the looming knowledge that her male friends (minus Link) were all out there, multiplied with the fact that Lou Fa's friends were becoming increasingly annoying with every dying second, was enough to give her a splitting, mind-numbing headache. The temptation to dump a whole bottle of aspirin onto the floor, stamp atop them all till they resembled drugged snow fluff, and mix them all up with that disgusting pink drink concoction of grenadine, C.C. Lemon, and pop rocks (Toxically Moe's "specialty" drink creation), was becoming one highly attractive inducement.

"You know what, Lena-chan?"

Somehow, Lenalee was able to find an emergency reserve of patience within her. "What?"

"I think I know what the real problem is here." The way her voice had so spicily inflicted sent a perturbing tingle down Lenalee's spine.

"Then what—"

"You totally like one of them!"

The chord powering Lenalee's thoughts had been snipped. Her mind became a static blizzard, stranding all her nerves in a snowstorm of electrifying confusion until finally, a full-blown power outage assaulted her body; all she could see, all she could feel, could taste, could hear… was blankness.

"That's not true, Alice," her words came out choppy and unintentionally high-pitched. "We're all just friends. They're like my family, actually…"

"Is it Chaoji-sama?"

Her co-worker's disillusionment had suddenly morphed into blatantly oblivious nosiness. "No."



"Oh my god it couldn't be Link-sama?"


"Krory-sama then?"

"Alice, I don't like—"


At that, Lenalee felt her heart gag a little on its own blood. "… no."


Before Lenalee could even deliver a haughty rebuttal Alice was twirling about the room in utter fantasy mode, her female senses squeezing every ounce of hidden meaning from Lenalee's defensive actions with freakish skill. "Lena-chan and Allen-sama SITTING in a tree, K I S S—"

"SHUT UP!" Lenalee had no choice but to press a wet dish towel across her jabbering mouth, for the sake of the customers' ears and her own auditory health. Her face had become mercilessly flooded in a tsunami of blush. "Just shut up, a-and go serve your clients… or… something."

The dish rag slid off Alice's mouth to reveal a wicked grin, her smeared lip gloss reflecting a sort of malevolent aura that Lenalee had never known could be produced by the insanely bubbly female.

"Well then, if you don't like him or anything…" the fellow waitress strutted suggestively towards the doors, her eyes blazing with a fire normally only seen during an overly-naughty round of Truth or Dare. "… I guess you won't mind if I play a little Kari Kari Chu Chu with Allen-sama…"

The bile in Lenalee's stomach had finally come to a rolling boil; with instantaneous activation her Dark Boots had propelled her in front of the devilishly giggling Alice, her eyes glaring like rabid orchid-petal daggers till she could've sworn she had chipped an indent right into the bitchy little gossip-queen's skull. "Don't."

"Ooooooh, the jealousy unveils itself!"


The urge to burn off every inch of flesh producing that god awful smile now spread across Alice's face had nearly reached threshold. "Then what's with the raised voice, hun?"

The seconds passing were heavily afflicted with an identity crisis, for it seemed like ages before Lenalee could finally tear her gaze away from the spider-lashed, hot chocolate-eyed Alice. "Well?"

"Excuse me."

Feeling as if her airways had become morbidly obese, as if her blood was mistaking carbon dioxide for oxygen, Lenalee marched off to the nearest exit, a haven of temporary escape far away from the pits of Girl World the only thing propelling her legs into a huffy tantrum. She needed to purge her mind, strip it clean of all girly thoughts and ideas and images till it became totally bulimic of such things. She needed to create a state of psychological malnourishment in order to stop the images from sweetly raping her mind…

The unnerving images of Allen.


The room quaked in an ear-murdering tremor of cheers and groans as Allen produced his most astounding look of cocky victory yet, the cheating persona within him vivaciously flaunting its true colors as he wallowed in empty victory. Oh, how he so enjoyed ruthlessly stripping people of their money!

"Ladies and gentlemen, the winner is none other than our very own… ALLEN WALKER!" Lavi's words now contaminated the room, his voice fulfilling the vocal role of monotone announcer rather poorly. Still, he seemed to be a big hit with the audience. Particularly the female sector.

Allen couldn't resist letting loose a sadistic chuckle as the losers before him coughed up wads of crisp, thinly sliced money bills. That scent of heavily tattooed paper, the sound of it crinkling into greedy hands, the looks of losers' faces as they watched their precious money children being legally taken from their possession, was all it took to send Allen into a world of sheer poker mania. The insatiable urge to win at all costs, the highly addictive elation experienced when one utters "all in"… Allen had never felt such demonic gratification as he did at those moments. Annexing people's cash into the lands of his own pockets was as comfortable for him as shoving ten sticks of dango in his mouth.

"Excuse me, can we challenge you to a match?"

The innocent inquiry had hastily eroded Allen's poker fantasies, and, before he knew it, he found himself staring rather lamely at an attractive group of teenage girls.

Temptation murdered his decency in negligible time.

"You sure you're up for it ladies? I won't go easy on you just cause you're female."

"Yes, we're ready!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, Allen," Lavi was now standing between the two parties. "You need to take a break. We can't let our star poker player lose his touch now, eh?" He turned to face the group of girls, who were shooting Lavi some hard-core doe-eyes and lip pouts. "Ladies, I assure you you will be first on Mr. Walker's list for when he returns." The spiky haired exorcist contracted his best-in-class look of apology, a look that, Allen had noted, was able to indoctrinate any group of females into hypnotically accepting anything that came from his mouth. The girls swooned their approval.

With as sexy of a smile as he could possibly produce Allen escaped the mob of people, his dark poker shades slipping down his nose as he hightailed it to the backroom. He walked in on Krory and Chaoji, both of whom were slavishly sewing away at white tuxedos identical to the ones him and Lavi were wearing. The entire team had decided on a system of rotation between hemming pants and sleeves and playing the role of dealer at the front of the house (with the exception of Allen, who was expected to simply play poker), after discovering that Lavi had screwed up the tux orders and ordered two oversized tuxedos that didn't fit anybody. Yet somehow, it seemed as if Lavi had slyly managed to remain dealer for the majority of the evening, leaving Chaoji and Krory to fix the mistakes of the Bookman's measurement errors for what seemed like eternity.

"Would you like me to get you anything, Allen?" Krory somehow still seemed to be in a decent mood, despite having sewed for five hours straight. "Some water, perhaps? Or maybe even a light snack?"

"It's okay, Krory," he gave him a friendly smile; his stomach was still under heavy hospitalization due to ingesting a year's worth of sugar and artificial "pinkness" at Toxically Moe (despite having left the place over six hours ago), putting him in a rare state of sickening fullness. Instead, he began fumbling about for a container of Tums, the medication having become everyone's best friend after they'd made a hasty exit from the pinkly moe prison cell. His calcium carbonate friend, however, was found in a state of corpse-like hollowness.


Lavi responded by viciously throwing a mini pack at his whining mouth. "Yo Chaoji, switch out with me will ya?"

Chaoiji flung himself towards the door with tearful relief.

"We are so going to win this thing now!" the apprentice Bookman was fanning himself with a handful of grimy cash. "So long as Allen keeps cheating his way to victory, the girls won't stand a chance!"

Allen was too busy trying to break into the Tums packet's highly protected tinfoil cover to respond.

"You should be so fucking thankful that you have an exceptionally attractive Bookman like me helping you win this thing," Lavi continued. "I mean, the whole poker thing was my idea…"

The Tums suddenly went flying out of their package into an aerial show of psychotic haphazardness. "Well I'm the one that's getting all the money, so technically I'm the most valuable member of this team, Bookman-to-be."

"Hey, it's my kick-ass dealing skills and exceptional womanizing talents that even get you your customers, moyashi!" With a delighted hiss, Lavi crushed the bright green Tum Allen had been just about to lick off the floor, eliciting a pathetically high-pitched squeal from out of the white-haired exorcist's trembling mouth.

Bars of forced tears striped Allen's cheeks. "Lavi… why… why…"

"Guys, we have a problem!" Chaoji had made an unexpected return, interrupting Allen's stellar drama queen performance mid wail.



"Guys…" the amateur exorcist was still rather unaccustomed to resolving "friendly family" disputes. "This is serious! We have a customer demanding Allen play a Head's-Up with her immediately!"

Ego suddenly resuming its previous level of narcissistic arrogance, Allen sprang to his feet, a smooth fling of the arm replacing his super sexy poker glasses back in their rightful place. "Then what's the big deal? If this chick wants a one-on-one match so badly, I'm all for it!" He began walking out the door with the strut of a cripplingly-conceited mafia member, an oversized grin of pearly-whites and the suggestive winking of his sunglasses completing the look of raw cockiness.

"B-but Allen-san, the girl asking this—"

"Just shut it and watch, Chaoji."


The crowd of people awaiting his presence, eagerly awaiting to bask in his poker-star glory and fanatically absorb his intense rays of unrefined skill and superiority… the feeling only further encouraged his ego to maximize the cock factor. A wave of shrill hollers and whistles graced his ears as he cracked his knuckles before the poker table.

"So, which one of you lovely ladies challenged me to a…" he took off his sunglasses, followed by a haughty flip of the hair, "… one-on-one poker match?"

Muffled gossiping erupted as the competitor stepped into view, an overpowering wave of unexpected displeasure nearly threatening to damper Allen's mighty state of egotism. Choosing to ignore the growing atmosphere of discomfort, he observed his adversary head-on, his eyes taking a moment to properly activate their rods and cones in such a lightly lit room; however, Allen's psychological empire of self-centered supremacy came thundering to the ground, exploding into uneasy, nauseating abyss as he blinked vacantly at the glowering female before him, her gothic sea green hair and unfairly sweet smile juxtaposing brilliantly with the venomous aura she was producing.


Eyes gleaming like frozen balls of poison-choked sakura petals, Lenalee Lee had now locked Allen to the spot with her glare of eternal torture, her black dress making her look like a breathtakingly gothic angel confused with whether or not she was playing around in heaven or hell.

At that moment Allen quite rightly wanted to go lock himself in a room full of Tums for the rest of his life and never come out. His stomach had suddenly gone from weakly functioning to fumbling on the brink of death, all within one roller-coaster ride of a second. Of all the people in the entire fucking world, why did it have to be her

With gentle ferocity Lenalee toppled a castle of perfectly stacked poker chips onto the playing board before her. "Let's play, Allen-kun."

A/N: Holy crap did I really just write that? And I have to admit, it was actually kinda... fun. Even though I should've been studying while I typed it all up... haha oops, guess I'll blame you guys if I fail my final exams. KIDDING!

And dammit, I meant to have Bak show up at Toxically Moe but I totally forgot... I'll have to have him visit next time ^^ Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed, and I'll try to update ASAP!

**All reads/reviews/faves/watches are EXTREMELY appreciated and greatly loved!**