“You have to take off your shoes. My parents will end you if you don't.” I said as we entered the foyer. Mom had set the room up as if it was one of those mud rooms you usually find connected to the garage door. She said it did more good where she put it, since the garage was full of our tools, we didn't use that door nearly as often. Dad is a good man, he just nods and waves us to do what we want with the garage. He just asked for enough room for his bicycle.

I wore my boots loose, so I easily kicked them off and left them under the bench. I slid on my black fuzzy slippers and tugged open the top of the bench. There were about twenty different pairs of slippers in the compartment. I looked over at Hades' boots. Mom might not have considered that mountain sized men had mountain sized feet. I found the largest size pair of generic blue slippers and let the seat of the bench drop with a resounding bang.

Hades wasn't even phased and I internally snapped my fingers in disappointment. “Here,” I shoved the slippers into his hands, “put these on. Mom is really into Asian cultures. We don't wear shoes in the house.”

The man rolled his eyes. I'm pretty sure he had more attitude than I did. I tried not to be impressed, and put my hands on my hips. “Hey, you could go wait by your murdercycle, oh, I mean motorcycle.”

He just shook his head and got this cute little determined look on his face. It made me want to try harder to annoy him. I started looking at my empty wrist and tapping my foot and muttering about the time. He just unbuckled his boots even slower. Curse him for being good at this game.

Finally, I just left him there. Mom would be appalled at my lack of manners, but I figured Mr. Wizard and I were past all pretenses. He might have apologized for calling my baby, junkie, but that just got him in the door, not in my good graces.

I went into the kitchen, which was stuck in the eighties, and not in a good way like my car. The linoleum was neon paint splatters, and the kitchen matched. It had white cabinets with multi colored neon door pulls on them. The counters were black with more neon colors. It was the most garish kitchen in the history of all kitchens. Mom called it creative. I called it an eyesore.

I dug out three glasses and tossed ice in them. I grabbed three cans of assorted fruit flavored, caffeine free soda, and a bag of pub mix. I took them, on a tray, to the living room and sat them down on the low table. “Chill come to the front room! We have a guest! I got you a soda!” I sniffed, slightly irritated. It's not like I was going to entertain him alone. In our house. With my parents gone. And, I refused to be nice to Hades. Oh, I didn't leave him out, mom would skin me alive, but I made my silent protest of him being here. I didn't put a straw in his glass, and I didn't put the pub mix in a bowl. See? I wasn't being nice.

Chill and Hades both came into the living room at the same time. I'd sat myself by the low table and waited while they found places to settle in.

“What is that?” He asked, pointing in confusion to our table.

“It's a kotatsu,” my brother happily supplied, I guess he was over my bad driving. That was very typical of Chill. He didn't stay mad at anyone. I on the other hand, could carry a grudge until it's dead and buried, then I'd probably go visit the grave-site to dance on it every so often, just to keep the memory alive. “It's one of the best inventions ever,” my brother continued, “There is a base, the blanket goes next, then the table top on top of that. There's a little heater underneath, and you tuck the blanket on your lap and it helps keep you toasty and warm. It's a little slice of heaven.” Chill took the side opposite me and put the blanket on. Hades, looked at the table like it would bite, but joined us under the covers.

We all picked our soda flavor, Hades and Chill left the strawberry for me and it was a good thing too, I'd have broke out Armageddon on their as-apples, if they hadn't. We talked about stupid stuff, the weather and how cold it got in this part of the country, school and the unusual amount of mean girls and bully boys enrolled there, and other not so important b.s. And before you comment, the initials aren't counted as cussing. Thankfully.

Not soon after, the front door opened, and the rents called out that they were home. This was going to be an interesting conversation. I couldn't wait for Hades to mention goblins, with a straight face, to our parents.