The school day was over.

The cons of it, however, were not.

“Hey, freak girl!”

Luna Underwood sighed and banged her head on her locker, her short cut black hair with blue streaks flopping a bit over her eyes.

She didn’t need this now.

Scratch that, that’s a dumb thing to say: She didn’t need this, ever.

But, alas, she couldn’t make the ground disappear beneath her or some dumb shit like that.

Turning around, her pointed boots squeaked on the recently washed white tiled floors of her elementary school so she could unfortunately come face to face with…

“Ah, yes: More living proof that we do indeed descend from Neandrathalls.”

Oooh. Perhaps not a necessary comment, but Luna couldn’t help it: She had to speak her mind and stand up for herself.

Her once cowardly and self loathing father may have always struggled with that concept, but Luna was never to stand up for who she was.

Being a 10 year old Goth kid was pretty bizarre, even today. But she didn’t mind.

Well, except for when it led to encounters like this.

The two chumps grabbed her bat backpack (so what if it was sort of cutesy alongside being spooky? She liked it) and dumped all her stuff onto the floor.

Luna looked down, with a slightly apathetic reaction, though deep down she was actually relieved.

The two chumps chuckled haughtily, and pretended to be sorry.

“Aww! Too bad that custodian is done cleaning up!”

“I don’t know: I’d say there are two piles of dog poop he forgot to scoop up.”

She couldn’t help the small smirk as they got angrier, but she had good reason.

He always came by to pick her up at this time.

If he hadn’t seen what had occurred, then she was living in a different reality.

“You wanna repeat that?!”, they demanded, as they picked her up by her shirt.

“I heard her the first time, boys, and I must say I agree…”

Suddenly, in lightning speed, the two boys found themselves lifted up by their shirts, and into the silently furious face of…

“Hey Matt!”, Luna greets cheerfully, almost deadpan.

“Hey, Raven!”, Matt Cavendish-Dakota, now 20 years old and biker jacket wearing, winked in response.

He then returned his attention to the two trouble making youths.

“What did I tell you morons about picking on her?”

He didn’t need to say much more.

Everyone knew that he could hold his own, and if his dads were here…

Hoo boy.

Needless to say, the idiots ran off and Matt shook his head.

“Bozos…”, he whispered, as he began to pick up Luna’s stuff.



No one said a word. Luna was used to being saved by Matt.

And Matt was used to protecting his frequent babysitting project and sort of family member.

So no words were really needed.

Luna did wish she could just stop being harassed, but she had Matt.

That was enough to put a smile even on her usually gloomy face.

“Breakfast Burritos?”, he offered, picking her up on his shoulders.

Pretending to perch like a bat, Luna nodded.


“We’ll make it medium rare, don’t worry!”, he chuckled and they ran down the street.

Short, I know, but I really liked this fluffy one shot and couldn’t see how to make it longer. Hope you like this, Serend! Happy birthday! (sorry it's late!)

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