Lucille, sneering in disgust at the calendar, finally set down the groceries she'd had to carry in all by her lonesome. Dreadful day it was what with the phone call and the car stalling. The car was new, and the damn thing stalled. How dare it do something it wasn't supposed to! It was simply unacceptable.

She shook her head, forcing herself to put the phone call higher in her list of things to bitch over. The calls from her son's principle were rather frequent—the boy just loved to play with fire. However it wasn't so much destruction of school property she'd been told of, but a screaming match in the middle of class with another student—his little friend Roxas if she remembered correctly. She really did have to think hard to remember if it was Roxas or some other boy—like the Mohawk one. Roxas was the only one whose name she had bothered to remember. Axel had many friends and he was always getting into trouble. But that didn't matter much since she'd been smart enough to marry a police commissioner—and she'd burned down her own fair share of things as a youth and encouraged Axel to continue the fun outlet.

Fire was just so pretty, especially when you threw those cheap candles from the dollar store in the fire. The little animal ones worked best. Purple and gray flames dancing over woodchips from the park, the memories brought a grin to her lips. Oh, how her little boy had loved that. It was bonding time when they scurried off to the park on the other side of town at two AM and a grocery bag of cheap candles and matchsticks.

Not only did she have to worry about the phone call and the damn car, but Axel's birthday was in just a week. A week! And did she have any gifts? No. Teenagers were the most difficult to shop for. You can't even just give them money without them seeing it as inconsiderate and annoying them.

Oh, she'd gotten carried away. She smirked and shook her head. It was the proper house wife thing to do once a montage had finished, you see. She moved around the island kitchen, and walked down the hallway.

She heard noises coming from Axel's room. Just noises, words she honestly couldn't make out. As she reached for the door knob she automatically assumed he'd be able to hear her and began talking. "Axel, can you help me with the grocer…" She blinked, taking in the interesting scene before her. Her hand was still on the door knob—much like Axel's hand was still on Roxas' crotch.

Roxas locked eyes with the woman—horror beyond expression on his face, while Axel peered over his shoulder to his mother looking equally horrified. Well, maybe he was handling this a tad better than Roxas was. But, as Axel will gladly testify, Roxas had such expressive eyes that it may have just seemed like he was freaking out more badly than Axel.

Needless to say, or perhaps happily to say, Axel was leaning over Roxas who was sitting against the headboard and the only bit of clothing between the two was Axel's black boxers.

Once some of her surprise subsided, Lucille shouted: "THAT IS!"

She gaped.

She pointed.

She lowered her arm back down, and then lifted it back up to point again. Roxas had began to shiver, though sadly not from the breeze.

"THAT IS SO HOT." Lucille declared, loudly and with a rather maniacal grin spreading on her face.

"Mother!"

"Do you need lube? Your father got me this lovely lemon flavored lube—you know how I love lemons, dear. You aren't using icky lotion, yes?" She motioned to the hand moisturizer on the side table that she was sure she had placed in the living room the day before. "Proper lube would be much better."

"Mom!"

"Do you need condoms? Oh! I have handcuffs. And a whip. Would you like them now, or later?"

Axel looked horrified, but remained silent with his mouth hanging open. Lucille interpreted this as meaning he would like them now, but would have to wait until Roxas wanted such things. "Mom. Could you, I don't know, leave for two hours?"

She leered at them. "I'll be gone for five hours, my lovelies." She waved joyously at them, locking eyes with a rather shell-shocked Roxas once again before prancing down the hall. She of course began listing off all the fun gifts she could now buy for her perfect teenage son. Shopping for him didn't seem all that hard anymore.

Note: I would so do this to my kid if I ever got one. I really think I should adopt or something when I'm older. I'm sure I could mold another gender-ignoring sardonic child easily.