I should be studying.

The wall wasn't very interesting to look at. Maxwell rolled over onto his other side, tossing his blankets fitfully around his legs and looking out at the other sleeping figures around him. He stared. The glowing hour hand on the clock hovered at one. He shut his eyes for about three seconds. Then they snapped impatiently open again.

"This sucks," he whispered loudly to himself, and there was a sudden movement through the darkness as one of the other grunts sharing the room shifted in their bed. Maxwell caught a vague mumble of "... no... not the duck..." before the sleeptalker fell still again with a sigh, and a dead silence settled over the space.

It was too quiet, and he couldn't sleep. This called for drastic measures. This called for an adventure.

Making sure to move slowly as not to make any sudden noises, Maxwell slid out of his annoyingly-lumpy-because-the commanders-were-cheap bed and onto the carpet, tiptoed to the door, and eased it open with a tiny creak. As soon as his bare foot made contact with the cold tile floor in the hallway, he squeaked but then instantly clapped a hand over his mouth and whipped his head around to glance behind him.

Nothing but soft snoring. Okay, he could do this. Of course he could.

Biting his lip as he made his way quietly down the deserted hallway and past the doors of the other grunt bedrooms, Maxwell focused on getting to the warp panel sitting at the end rather than the frozen surface his bare skin was contacting with every agonizing step. Ten more steps... five more... three more... and when he finally reached the glowing metal circle, he pumped his fist silently into the air and whirled around—

—only to see that he had accidentally left his room door open. Oops.

But then again, between pressing forward on this adventure and dealing with all that just to go back and close the door... it wasn't even a contest. Max hopped onto the glowing metal panel and immediately felt the familiar whooshing sensation wrapping around him as he was carried off to another room in the headquarters.

Right, left, left, centre... maybe... uhm, which one was next again? Why do Galactic hideouts have to have so many confusing warp panels anyway? he wondered with a pout as played eeny-meeny-miny-moe to decide which panel to take next. Talk about paranoid. It wasn't like some random ten-year-old could break in and infiltrate the place, right? If he hollers let him go, eeny meeny miny... moe. Left it was, then.

After spinning to a halt and stumbling dizzily off the panel for what seemed to be the umpteenth time (well, fifth really), it took Maxwell a few seconds to realise that he had ended up on the dining level. The empty mess hall, still boasting forgotten bits of food and dried spill stains here and there, looked even bigger than usual without its usual crowd of Galactic members jam-packed inside at mealtimes. But the most important thing happened to be on the other side of the room: the doorway to the kitchens was right there, unlocked at the perfect time and left slightly ajar by some careless cook... Maxwell took one glance at it and his face cracked into a wide grin.

"Whee, profit!" he yelled delightedly, completely forgetting about stealth as his excited voice echoed loudly around the empty hall. "Aw-right! Midnight snack, heeeere I come!"

And then he was off in an instant, sprinting like a maniac towards the kitchens wherein lay his precious, delicious treasure.





This was actually inspired by me sneaking cheesecake from the fridge in the middle of the night. Don't judge.