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vanaera · 5 years

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The Heart Holiday | Act 1 | myg

Synopsis: Valentine’s Day is declared as an official holiday. However, private companies’ standards dictate it’s only for the people who are currently in a relationship. Unluckily for Y/N, she doesn’t have this year’s PRS’ (Proof of Relationship Status) “in a relationship” box ticked – the only ticket out she can have to enjoy one paid week of holiday leave away from her hellish job. And more unfortunately for Y/N, everyone around her is oh so conveniently currently committed in a relationship. Except for one person: Min Yoongi, Y/N’s biggest critic in every pitch meeting, the picky guy who always picks on her, and the most annoying jerk of the century. Desperate for that holiday leave, Y/N strikes Yoongi up with an offer: Fake date each other two weeks before February 14, just enough time for the Department of Relationship Management (DRM) to consider processing your PRSs. After Valentine’s Day, they will go back to their own ways and never speak about whatever that may happen during the plan. Good, plain, and simple. That is until, Yoongi uncharacteristically oh so enthusiastically agrees to Y/N’s offer, leaving her thinking that she may have bitten something too much more than she can chew.

Characters: Yoongi x Female Reader

AU/ Trope: Office AU (Creatives manager!yoongi x PA!reader), enemies to lovers, fake dating

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy (the triple t(h)reat)

Wordcount: 11, 798

Warnings: Lots of curses from two emotionally-constipated characters (PG-15 Rating)

A/N | This fic is in part with FWL’s Valentine’s project, The Luv Library: Romance. I had this premise about a Valentine’s holiday for a while and finally, I got to use it for this fic.

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Ten seconds are enough to look at Min Yoongi. Two seconds to look at his unkempt, unprofessional, and stupid fringes that nonsensically cover his already small eyes. Three to look at his stupid, smug smile. Another two for his overly-confident stance—leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the table, hands clasping together—as if he’s better and of higher power than anyone else around the room when he’s just a measly representative of the day for the Creatives Team. And the last three seconds—they are enough to look at his mocking eyes, his jeering gaze, and the arrogant quirk of his brow.

This is the same look he gave to Y/N when he got promoted ahead of her. This is the same look he flashed to Y/N when he berated every word choice in her reports. And, this is the same look in his face when he ruined her presentation which could have been her ticket way out from this hellish job. Smug, arrogant, and proud, Min Yoongi is set to ruin Y/N’s life. And all Y/N could do now is glare at him and hope her eyes could set him on fire so it will be easy for hell to swallow him up and—

“Y/N?”

Y/N whips her head to her right, “S-sorry?”

Nancy Kim clicks her tongue, “Why are you just standing there, glaring at the windows? I told you to distribute the copies among the room.”

“R-right,” Y/N gulps and rushes forward. She hands the copies of last month’s Travel Loca issues among the representative of each department. Gracie from the Marketing Team sneaks her a small smile, which Y/N returns. However, that smile falls into a frown when she reaches the devil himself.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Min Yoongi greets, chin rested on his palm. When Y/N doesn’t greet back, Yoongi takes it upon himself to wink at her. With a huff, Y/N slams down the copy on the table in front of him, enough for the glossy, firm cover page to hit his pile of notes and cause some pages to fly off the table.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Nancy calls out, sighing. She waves away at Y/N and the latter takes it as a cue to sit back on her chair. Nancy leans back in her huge black chair, “Okay, let’s get the ball rolling. Now tell me something I don’t know.”

Y/N seats herself on the chair by the corner of the room, behind Nancy’s chair, far from the round meeting table. Every team representative starts to report their progress last month and their suggestions for the next, next month’s issue. Meanwhile, Min Yoongi is still busy picking up his notes on the floor. When he’s gathered them back, now in a sloppy stack, he looks from his crouched position and flashes Y/N his middle finger. She flashes back a finger at him, grinning. Y/N looks down at her small pocket notebook.

“Y/N – 1. Yoongi – 0.”

So far, this morning is really good.

Y/N hates Min Yoongi, and this is beyond an understatement. She hates him so much that the word “hate” started to become insufficient to describe her tantamount distaste for that man. Y/N blames his last name for that. “Min” should not be how his last name spelled. It should be M-E-A-N because that man is beyond mean.

When Y/N first met Yoongi, she knew there’s something off with him. He stands so arrogantly, so prideful as if he deserved every bit of the floor space of Travel Loca’s Main Office when he just got hired because there’s no other job-seeker that has actually applied. Yoongi looks at other people as if he’s any much greater than them. Lazy eyes, far-off gaze, indifferent façade—he just looks at you as if he’s listening when he’s actually just hearing so he can make some witty comeback. And Yoongi talks like a dictator know-it-all. He corrects every word people say here and there, like “Y/N, are you sure it’s ‘demonstrate,’ not ‘visualize’? We can’t physically see something if there’s nothing to see,” or “Y/N, you shouldn’t say ‘Xerox.’ It should be ‘photocopy.’ Xerox is just a brand, our junior high teacher told us so,” as if every word anyone says but him, will always be wrong. Yoongi talks as if no one but him will always be right and that everything around him does not deserve a bit of his attention unless they prove their worth to him.

And it frustrates Y/N to no end that no one seems to see his real form but her. Because apparently, Yoongi is “amazing.” Yoongi knows a lot of foreign places, having traveled to Malta, New Zealand, Hawaii, and yaddah yaddah, making his first-hand knowledge essential to the Writing Department. Yoongi has a lot of expertise in various editing apps, and he’s willing to teach the tricks and nicks to it to anybody. Anybody but Y/N. Because behind closed doors, Y/N knows his true face: Min Yoongi is a thick-skinned, double-faced bitch. That even if his name is on the tip of the tongue of anyone around the office every single morning, his quick promotion as manager of the Creatives Team a never-ending topic starter, Y/N knew the real story. Because Min Yoongi started out as Nancy’s Personal Assistant…just like Y/N.

Nancy Kim is the best photojournalist in the history of travel magazines. God-tier even, because when Nancy is just an intern in The Traveler’s Foot, she wrote the best articles Y/N has ever read. It didn’t matter if they were about a cliché tourist spot that has been featured over and over again or something bizarre that could make anyone wonder someone in their right mind would actually go there. Nancy is the goddess of travel journaling and Y/N obsessively consumed every article she wrote during her entire senior high and college life. So, to be able to get accepted in a company Nancy built, as Nancy’s personal assistant, is a sweet as fuck dream come true. Y/N didn’t care if she has to go home by 12 A.M. or 1 A.M. as Nancy said PA’s always have to leave the office after their bosses left. Nancy just shows the dedication to work one must have. Y/N didn’t find it tiresome when Nancy has to send her back-and-forth for errands both for work and personal life. She’s learning how to be resourceful while being good at time-management all at the same time. She’s learned a lot from Nancy. So, seeing Min Yoongi be so lax at work after getting hired frayed Y/N’s nerves to no end.

Yoongi doesn’t keep a tab on Nancy’s schedules just like Y/N does. He says there’s no reason for such rush to keep every event on track because Nancy will just cancel or push forward them anyway. It’s true, Nancy does sometimes mess up the week calendar Y/N arranged for her, but still, not tabbing anything on your work diary is still an evident proof Yoongi slacks of. He even takes a nap in between work hours for God’s sake. Yoongi also likes to talk behind Nancy’s back: of how inconveniencing, overbearing, and unnecessarily over-the line abuser she is as a boss. He tells this to Y/N day in and day out. Yoongi even mocked Y/N’s work ethic as a “willing subservience to work slavery.” He mercilessly reduced her dedication to work as blind obedience to an authority for the sake of monthly paychecks instead of hard, honest efforts to learn the essential skills in travel journalism.

And, it’s not a miracle no one finds out about this. Because when Yoongi is indeed caught, he finds one loophole in his and Y/N’s dynamic as co-PA’s for Nancy and implicitly, oh so subtly, turns it around against Y/N. Y/N remembers one time when Nancy berated them two for not inserting her friend Rosa’s son’s first birthday party into the 6 PM slot of one Monday in March. After her long sermon, Yoongi apologized for not encoding it into Nancy’s Schedule Work Sheet. Y/N handles Nancy’s Schedule Work Sheet, not Yoongi. Nancy knows this. So, after her 9-12 shift that same Tuesday, Nancy reminded Y/N of her replaceability in Travel Loca during one of the most tension-filled elevator rides in her life. She went home to her flatmate, Mina, in tears which did not permit her to get an ounce of sleep. Y/N turns up the next day at work, red eyes and red nose close to make Rudolph the reindeer run for his title, only to know from the call logs that Yoongi did not receive Rosa’s call because he was sleeping when Y/N outright told him to take over the phone because she needed a bathroom break.

Min Yoongi is mean and Y/N has seen the last straw of her respectful tolerance to people ticked off by this insufferable man one cursed Thursday night of September.

Thursdays are horrible. It is always assured to be the worst day Y/N will have in a week. Either an investor will change their mind about a deal with Travel Loca, or Nancy will lash out at her because of stress from stupid shenanigans of her rebellious teenage daughter—Thursdays always have it out for Y/N. Y/N can already tell this so when Nancy called for her at 10:30 P.M. to give her a run-down of her schedule for the weekends and the upcoming week. It is already an established routine that Nancy will have Y/N over to her office to give a schedule report at any time of the day. It’s just happened this day that Yoongi took a leave and Y/N shouldered every task to be done, easily wearing her out in the afternoon.

Y/N is close to crying right now because of exhaustion and it does not help that Nancy is wearing a sour face. She does not even look up at Y/N from her laptop when she said, “Tell me this week’s schedule.”

Y/N pulls up her notebook and traces her pen over her notes, “Tomorrow you have an 11 AM meeting with investors from VanTae Apparels. At 1 PM you will have an online meeting with our overseas partners, JM Restaurant Group. We also have to submit the Kim Yuna special feature by 2 PM and at 3 we have the Travel with RM to interview. And–”

“Push the Travel with RM to 2. We’re holding the Yuna feature ‘til next week because Jennie is writing as if she’s still in college.” Nancy presses a hand over her forehead and huffs, “The Writing Department has been consecutively disappointing me with boring, generic articles. Are fresh pieces non-existent nowadays?!”

Y/N looks up, eyes wide, hands sweaty.

Nancy turns back to her laptop, “What else is on my sched?”

“Um, O-on Saturday 4 PM, you are invited to your friend’s, Rica’s baby shower, and for 5, you are invited to Jungsoo’s son’s 1st birthday party. Then Sunday 2 PM is Hana’s sister’s daughter’s 1st birthday party. You are also invited to Nick and Ken’s wedding on Friday and–”

Nancy clicks her tongue, “Cancel them all. I have no time for these parties and meaningless chit-chats that always have these housewives bragging how great their husbands are or their children’s stupid what-nots.”

Y/N nods and slashes through her notes, “Okay.”

“So send them my apologies and give them a $300 gift instead.

“Okay, ma’am.”

Nancy turns her swivel chair to face her, “Did you get my daughter the unpublished sequel of The Swallowing?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Y/N smiles, recalling her last week’s adventure and success. Maybe Nancy’s mood will lighten up if she knew how she accomplished such an impossible task. “I got to grab a copy after weeks of talking with R. Lewis’ manager. Luckily, R. Lewis caught wind that it’s for your daughter. So he agreed to give me the copy. I actually have it right now, let me go back to my table –”

“You don’t have to. Suzie changed her mind. She doesn’t like The Swallowing anymore. Return the copy and get her the unpublished sequel instead of Bird and Foe.”

Y/N’s jaw nearly falls as she stammers, “S-sure, no problem.” Deep inside, Y/N cannot help but think to herself, “Yes, Nancy may be fickle-minded and forgetful of differences in company protocols that intervene with such transactions, but she cannot just disregard my hard work! All the money in my train tickets and brain cells have gone all in the drain for nothing—Okay, calm down, Y/N, this is Nancy. Nancy can help you to write the best articles in no time. This is just training for the real deal—

“Y/N, did you hear me?”

“S-sorry, what?”

“I said, where’s the USB I told you to get from my laptop at our home? I need the files for the JM Restaurant Group.”

Oh shit. The USB. Y/N told Yoongi to get it since he lived nearer to Nancy’s residence in West Street than her. And since, Yoongi’s on leave, the USB is—!

“And first thing in the morning, I want you to go to the Writing Department to get some fresh stories. I do not want to personally see them or else I will be able to fire one whole department in a day.”

At this, Y/N fiddles with her fingers. “Umm, I think I have a story.”

Nancy quirks her brow.

Y/N wrings her hands behind her back. “I-it’s not yet polished and I still have more to cover on–”

“So, you’re already telling me it’s bad before you even pitch a formal proposal –”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she rushes to Nancy. “No! I-it’s about the Write and Backpack Trip Club. The-they’re a club of unpublished writers, usually late 30s, who met on Facebook and decide to travel together to the countries or places their stories are supposed to take place.” Nancy tilts her head and Y/N picks up her tone. Her hands start to quiver with her voice as she says, “People think—people think it’s hopeless. Like, like, they’re wasting their lives on something so trivial instead of focusing on their jobs. But this club gave them a purpose to still reach for their dreams even when people tell them it’s already too late. And I just,” Y/N wipes a stray tear on her cheek–which she doesn’t know if it’s because of her attachment to the club, Nancy’s new orders, or her frustration at Yoongi for leaving all their responsibilities on her–but she sucks them up and breathes out, “I find it really inspiring to have the courage to seek out your purpose when everything in the world is against you.”

Nancy stares at her, brows furrowed. Another drop of tear falls from Y/N’s eyes. Nancy fixes her eyes back on her laptop. “The USB, Y/N, I need it now. A.S.A.P., capiche.”

Wiping her cheeks again, Y/N nods, “Ye-yeah, capiche.”

Y/N could not remember any time she’s rushed out the office as fast as now. Yoongi’s cell is out of reach and nothing is present in Y/N’s mind but to just run out of the building. She needs to clear her mind. She has to think of a solution. She can’t go back to Nancy empty-handed. Nancy’s already unimpressed of her sloppy work for this day, much more at her uncalled emotional breakdown in her office. She will definitely get fired for sure this time.

The cold dry wind hits Y/N’s face the moment she pushes past the large glass doors of the Rockfort Building. The night sky has blackened into dark indigo and the establishments that dot the neighboring grounds of the building have blurred into monotonous dim shops. With just their solar lights left on, the rest of the complex looked like a washed-out commercial center. The only thing that stands out has to be the small mango tree just a meter away from her—the center-piece and quite the only humanizing element of the harsh Rockfort Complex.

Okay, this is great. Y/N always tend to get the best ideas and solutions when she’s standing near this tree. She proved this twice. First, when Nancy demanded her to re-do all their presentations for VanTae Apparel. Y/N managed to slay it by getting inspired by the mangoes and editing the templates to look like nature’s rendition of Van Gogh’s starry night, which happened to be the favorite painting of VanTae’s CEO. And second, when Yoongi messed up Y/N’s schedules for Nancy’s personal events by misnaming each invitation, this mango tree provided her peace to quickly fix everything up before Nancy gets to the office.

Put your thinking cap on, Y/N. What should you do? Should you rush to Nancy’s house now? Oh no, maybe Yoongi already got the USB. Should you go then to Yoongi’s house? Shit, I don’t know his house address—

“Here’s $25, sir. Thank you!”

Y/N freezes. It can’t be.

Y/N turns to her right only for her eyes to land on a man with a familiar jet black mop of hair, standing about two meters before her, talking with a blue-vested delivery man.

No. No. No. NO. Min Yoongi cannot just swoop out of nowhere and sound so chirpy like that while I have to stress over a problem that I DID NOT create. I cannot get fired in a company I’ve spent my life on for two years just because of this man’s unreasonable incompetence!

Fueled by the purest form of aggravation, Y/N stomps ahead and brushes Yoongi’s shoulder, making him turn back to her.

�� “Oh, hi, Y/N.”

“‘Hi?!’ ‘Hi,’ yourself, Min Yoongi!—"

“Oh my God,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, “she’s Adolf Hitler again.”

“Adolf Hitler?!” Y/N scoffs, “Say it for yourself, Min! You’re Hitler because you’re twisted enough to ruin my career because doing shit in yours is not enough. Where’s Nancy’s USB?!”

“If you’re going to talk about work again, I gotta leave. If you didn’t know, a ‘leave’ is a leave.” He emphasizes the last syllable as he starts to walk toward the street.

Letting common sense knock into her, Y/N momentarily disregards her pride and runs after him. When he rounds the corner of a clothing boutique, she slips by his side and places herself in the middle of the sidewalk, blocking him.

Unlike his usual work attire, Yoongi is clad in a black hoodie and denim ripped jeans, an ensemble that remarkably turned to look horrible in 0.5 seconds just because he’s wearing it. Y/N deduces it’s just Yoongi ruining fashion because he 24/7 looks like an asshole.

“What, are you just gonna stare at me?”

Yoongi’s voice brings Y/N back to her purpose. “No, I’m here to tell you, you forgot to do your job—Nancy wants her USB for JM Restaurant Group right now.”

“Well, I don’t have it, sweetheart. Work hours are already over so practically, I’m in no responsibility to do whatever the fuck Nancy wants,” the man quips back, smiling.

Y/N cannot help but snap. “Why are you even here in Rockfort, then? You didn’t turn up for work and now you’re just casually strolling in front of our building. You didn’t take home at least a quarter of our tasks and dumped everything on my shoulders like an irresponsible, signature free-loader high school groupmate. And now you think it’s okay to tell me ‘sorry, I don’t have the USB’ when I told you yesterday to bring it today?! I cannot believe what an asshole you can be, Yoongi.”

Yoongi raises a hand. “Okay, chill, tiger. To answer your question, I am here because my friends and I hung out at a bar near here. Not that you will understand, of course, considering your whole life revolves around work, work, and work. Ooh, and Nancy,” Yoongi grins. “How can I forget you idolize Nancy? Actually no, you worship her.”

Y/N’s face falls into an indignant scowl, “I do NOT worship Nancy! I respect her. Which you also should do because she employed you, not the other way around. Also, I have friends! Mina is my friend!”

“Correction, Mina is your only friend at work. And she happened to be your flatmate and college buddy first before you both had luck to also be co-workers. So no, your friendship with Mina is out of the equation.”

Y/N opens her mouth to tell him Mina cannot be out of the equation when Yoongi beats her, “And second, how could I be a free-loader? A leave is a leave. Our job description did not say we should also take work home. You are the only one who does that because you’re paranoid. So don’t impose your so-called work ethic, that is actually masked obsession, to me because I am a mentally healthy person. I don’t want to have a stick in my ass like you do.”

Y/N steps closer to Yoongi, making the latter cock a brow at her. “I’m not paranoid, Min. It’s you who is the problem. You don’t take this job seriously. You don’t take on responsibilities like a mature adult. You think you’re so great just because no one told you you suck at something when you were a kid. Well, let me tell you now. You suck at plain human decency, something that should be innate in every people. You’re so high up your ass you think you can just do anything and get away with it and you–”

“If you’re just going to insult me, can you do that tomorrow? My food is getting cold.”

Oh no. Nancy’s USB. Y/N closes her eyes and releases a long sigh. She thinks her eyes already did a 360 by the time she managed to fix her composure. She looks up at the man in front of her, currently giving her an amused look. Y/N’s voice cracks as she says, “Yoongi…This is the only time I will ask a favor from you. Please help me with Nancy’s USB. I just want to end this night and go home peacefully without her chewing my head off further more. So please, please, please, can you just help me for once?”

“Hmm,” Yoongi scratches his chin, “let me think about it first.”

“Yoongi, please!”

“Okay, fine,” Yoongi grimaces, “considering you practically begged to me for dear life, I, as a human with pure soul will help you out despite all the shits you said to me—”

“Just help me out!”

Yoongi slaps your reaching hands, “Stop, I’m not yet done with my speech. Anyway, considering this as a favor, not a request, I expect a return of favor, too.”

“Sure, fine, anything!”

“Okay, I think I may or may not have slipped in Nancy’s USB in my bag,” Yoongi breathes out as he reaches for his black satchel. “Oh yeah, I totally have it,” he says, flashing the orange 32 GB USB in front of you.

What the fuck. All this time-!

“Why didn’t you tell me you already have the USB?!”

Yoongi nearly guffaws, “Didn’t I tell you a “leave” is a leave? Wait, oh my god, you should see yourself, sweetheart. You’re about to pop a vein.”

“Min Yoongi, I fucking hate you!” Y/N snatches the USB from Yoongi’s hand and stomps back to the direction of the Rockfort Building. The man doesn’t seem to go on his own way though because Y/N hears him holler “Same sentiment too, Y/N!”

Y/N doesn’t turn back. She just raises a middle finger up that she’s sure Yoongi will not miss. And he did not, for the man’s faint chuckles only continued.

The travel back up to the 12th floor seems like the longest elevator ride Y/N has ever been on. Every additional second into the constricted metal box feels like a one-second deduction from her own lifetime. So when the elevator doors open to Travel Loca’s floor, the air is immediately knocked off Y/N lungs. But not because of relief. Nancy stands in front of her, bags in hand, and obviously upset.

Y/N quickly steps out of the lift. “Nancy, here! The USB!”

“You took too long. Just e-mail them to me. I have to cram-reading them in the morning anyway because a certain someone forgot to do their job.” Nancy brushes by her shoulder and steps into the elevator. “You know, Y/N, if I’m paying you to make my life easier for me and instead, you’re making it harder, your position in this company is useless.” Nancy presses the button for the parking lot. The doors close in front of Y/N, letting her see the disappointment on Nancy’s face for the last second of the night.

Y/N goes home twenty minutes later, worn out, and ready to sleep the second she reaches her floor. But when she opens the door, Mina’s smiling face greets her, and she immediately rushes to the sofa next to her bestfriend.

“Mina, oh my god, I have so much to tell you.”

“Me, too!” Mina giggles, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s arms, “Can I go first though?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Y/N smiles, fixing her seat.

“Well, remember last week when I told you I finally confessed to Mark?”

“Mark, as in, the café barista Mark Tuan?”

Mina jokingly hits Y/N’s arm, “Yes, what Mark would I be talking about?”

“Sorry, you know how I get so spaced out when I’m tired and groggy. Anyway, what happened?”

“Well, Mark finally said yes!” Mina bursts into a wide grin, arms outstretched in joy. “I finally get to date Mark!”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you, Nana,” Y/N engulfs Mina into an embrace, “I can’t believe you’re finally in a relationship! I mean, who would not want to date you? You’re smart, pretty, and funny. The boys have missed out on you for seven long years. And now, there’s finally someone who has eyes and can see what a gem you are. And damn right, Mark would see that. It’s not every day he can have a gorgeous girl court him for six months after getting rejected twice.”

“Oh my god, stop bringing that up!” Mina playfully slaps her back and Y/N chortles.

“Okay, okay, I’m just joking. What I really mean is: Mark is a lucky guy. I’m glad he finally realized what an idiot he will be if he rejects you again for the third time when you’ve been with him through all his problems. He won’t find another beautiful girl willing to ride his motorcycle with him in a huge-ass dress just to help him deliver orders in time. You’re the total package Mina and I’m so happy Mark has realized it.”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re making me blush,” Mina laughs. She sways the both of them in their hug, “Mark has an impossibly high standard to meet now because of you.”

“Mark doesn’t have to meet any standards,” Y/N snickers, “You already drool at his face the moment we enter The Daily Bean.”

Mina detaches herself from Y/N and dramatically places a hand over her chest. “How can you remember that so well and not who Mark is?”

Y/N shrugs, “Because I’m not staring at Mark and eye-fucking him 24/7.”

“Oh my god, I do not!” Mina giggles, making you laugh again as she hugs you tight once more. Mina’s fingers card through your hair as she murmurs “But you do know, Y/N, even if I’m in a relationship now, I’m not gonna leave you alone. Even if Mark will start to occupy the top priority in my life, it doesn’t mean you will lose your spot in the top-pest part of my list. You know you’re still and will forever be my number one, right?” Y/N hums at that, closing her eyes from the head massage Mina is currently giving her. She feels Mina nod, “Right, you should because you’re practically my baby.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are! Who would wash the red stain on your pants and underpants in the girl’s CR while you prance around the cubicle only in a top because you bled through your bottoms during your period, much more, on our Christmas Party, other than me?”

Y/N grimaces, “Oh god, you didn’t have to bring that up.”

“You hit right through me when you said I eye-fuck Mark so yeah, eye for an eye, bitch,” Mina cackles as she finally unlatches her arms around her friend. “Anyway, I’m finished with my story of the day. Your turn. What happened tonight?”

Y/N bites her lip, unconsciously easing an inch between her and her bestfriend. Mina is in a good mood today. Y/N doesn’t want to ruin it by ranting off about how horrible Yoongi is again. She knows Mina. She will listen to her rant about another bullshit done by her co-PA and she will also indulge in an insult-fest against the man. That’s just their dynamic: Y/N’s enemy is Mina’s enemy and vice versa. So as Y/N looks at Mina’s smile which doesn’t do much covering up her dark eyes, which have grown from staying up late to wait for her to come home for multiple nights on end, Y/N decides it’s enough negativity for the day.

“It’s nothing, Mina,” Y/N shakes her head, forcing a smile on her face, “just another tiring day from work.”

Mina tilts her head, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Y/N flashes her another smile as she heads for her room, “I’m totally fine. Just tired. Congratulations to you and Mark again.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Mina replies, but the look on her face tells Y/N she’s unconvinced of what she said. Seemingly aware that her friend needed space, Mina turns back the TV. Before Y/N closes her door, she hears Mina chuckle to a punch-line in the airing sitcom.

Y/N flops on her bed face down. If Yoongi didn’t put much of a fight and just handed her Nancy’s USB when he knew he already had it, then maybe this night won’t be so horrible. Y/N would have given Nancy her USB in time, and her boss could have acknowledged it as a peace offering to her unremarkable work performance that day. Y/N would have totally rejoiced with Mina with her full heart into it and not force a smile on her face when such an announcement deserves much more celebration.

Y/N releases a stifled scream into her pillow. Thursdays are really the worst and it’s all Min Yoongi’s fault.

However, what Y/N didn’t expect is that the following week will get much worse. The Writing Department is late in their deadline, causing the online publication of the September issue to be pushed in the first week of October, a big deal late to the releases of their magazine competitors. Thus, Nancy became more pissy and naggy, giving Y/N a cold shoulder for the longest streak in her work life. Nancy became more frigid when Y/N failed to get Nancy the copy of the unpublished sequel of Bird and Foe. Y/N tried her best, she really did. It’s just that the publishers of Russell Park refused to give another copy because they said they cannot give out two unpublished copies at the same time. Of course, this turned out as a lazy excuse to Nancy, making her dump additional workload on Y/N’s already staggering pile. But that was not what made Y/N’s last week of September the worst week she’s ever had. It was Min Yoongi getting promoted as a staff member to the Creatives Team after giving Nancy the unpublished Bird and Foe sequel.

Ringing phones, staff members running to- and fro- the beige faux wood office floor, and the occasional requests for coffee from the break room–Travel Loca is buzzing with life as usual. But not for long though, because the clock hands are currently on 12:49 P.M. At 12:57, it seems everyone on the floor have gone silent. Almost everyone taps their foot against the floor. All eyes were set on the digital wall clock. Some have even glanced on their own wristwatches to check if the wall clock was right. The hands start to move. Everyone gulps.

The hands hit one o’clock. Everyone scrambles off their swivel chairs. Some have bee-lined for the break room. Meanwhile, a huge mass had created a bottle-neck of office workers at Travel Loca’s main door. No one is left on the staff chairs, except for one: Mina Young.

The accountant slides her swivel chair to the left. Her hands meander through her large file cases and when she feels a cold, ribbed metal surface on her index, she smiles. Mina pushes the on-button and immediately, the then-silent office space has now become a replica of her own flat.

“Good morning everyone! Today seems an extra sweet day than yesterday because you know what? I can smell and see the sweet aroma of those dark, chewy chocolates and those pretty pink balloons surrounding our streets. That’s right folks, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner! Which also means–drumroll for me, Alexa–Holidays are about to sweep in! It’s just three weeks to go, folks, note that! So, for our dear, sweet listeners, I hope you already got your hotels booked and your plane tickets ready so you can finally have that amazing buffet, relaxing spa, or a fun tour around places you’ve never been with your very lovable significant others! I’m sure all of you will have that wonderful, exciting, and pleasurable rendezvous away from school, work, and any responsibilities. Just make sure to channel in on our station if you want the best playlist to get you in the mood for some steamy, passionate, and intimate time–”

“Mina, will you turn off that radio?”

The short-haired brunette frowns at her friend, whose also frowning at her. Mina pushes up her glasses on her nose, “Why? You know I always listen to this station during break time. Plus, Nancy is not here.”

“Still, it doesn’t excuse how irritating that DJ sounds.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she plops herself on another swivel chair. “His voice sounds like there are two styrofoams gyrating each other in a sweaty club.”

Mina’s jaw drops as she turns off her portable mini-radio on her desk. She faces Y/N with a frown this time—actually a scowl now. “Kim Seokjin’s voice is like creamy velvet to the ears! Also,” she scrunches her nose in disgust, “you did not just sexualize non-living objects so casually as if you’re not aware that the mental image you’re painting is so disturbing.”

“First off,” Y/N turns to her, swivel chair squeaking in her abrupt movement, “you’re already seeing Mark Tuan for you to have any weird fantasies about Kim Seokjin and his voice or how cute his laugh is when it literally sounds like he’s an old man dying on a choked-out old joke. And second, sexualizing objects is not illegal by law and even if it so, I did NOT sexualize them. They are just the perfect representation of how Seokjin’s voice sounds.”

Mina purses her lips and props her elbow on her desk to cup her face. “Cut to the point, Y/N. Just tell me what is with you today. You barged in furious in here for no reason, threw a fit at the break room, and now you’re ruining lunch by insulting Seokjin for something so trivial.”

“Trivial?! His voice is fucking irritating! Just because he’s handsome does not mean his voice will also sound good on the radio. It’s like listening to a whale dying while making mating calls–”

“The point, Y/N?” Mina cuts you with an unamused look.

You deflate in your seat. “Fine, it’s Min Yoongi. He made it a point that he is more intelligent and capable than me in our 10 AM meeting with Nancy for this month’s spread. Said he knows more about weird facts and trivia about Sweden because I never got to travel outside this fucking country when I damn well know he only uses some advanced search engine to look for info like the computer whiz that he is! I went so many times on his Facebook to know he posts nothing in his wall but his work achievements—and his dog! Of course, if you went outside the country, you will post pictures in your wall, ‘cus social media sites are just platforms masked as an outlet for free expression when we damn well know it’s just a place where you can brag and be not called out for being arrogant. And damn hell, Min Yoongi does not have any out-of-the-country pictures posted there. What only comes close is his picture of that gumbo he said he made—yeah, quotation marks—because it looks too good to be made by his ugly crooked hands and even if it’s got this aesthetic background not expected to come from this fucking country, I still think he just photoshopped it.” Y/N crosses her arms, “Bet that gumbo did not even taste good.”

Mina scrunches her forehead, “Are you the only flawed person Min Yoongi sees? Why does he always have to nitpick every single bit of your work? He just criticized your last week’s report because of your ‘poor articulation.’”

“Right?!” Y/N leans back on her chair. She groans, “I still remember how he sabotaged my files for Nancy’s professional and personal events. Who in their right mind would change the contact names to mythical creatures? Rica’s 2nd baby shower was named ‘Merlin’s Demon Baby’s Party?’ It’s a baby event for God’s sake!” Y/N looks at her friend, “I swear Mina, one day I will get a brain hemorrhage because of Yoongi’s shits.”

Mina winces, “Please don’t. I don’t want to be the one to tell your mother you already died before you even managed to pay your housing loans.”

“Hey! Don’t attack me like that,” Y/N slaps the back of her friend’s chair. Mina, choking on her spit first, erupts into a fit of giggles.

Unfortunately, it seems lunch’s fun will be cut short as Y/N hears Nancy’s megaphone’s speaker start up, “Calling for Y/N to come into my office. A.S.A.P!”

Y/N scrambles from her seat as Mina sees her off with a sad wave. Pushing through Nancy’s glass door, Y/N could see the lines of ridges forming on Nancy’s forehead before the latter can even eye her.

“Y-yes, Ma’am? You called for me?”

Nancy pins her a look, “You’re asking me if I called you? Are you deaf? Did you not understand what I said?”

“Yes!—I-I mean on the understanding part, yes, not about being deaf or something hehe-“

“Y/N,” Nancy clasps her hands on her table, “I called you here because I have something important to tell you.”

Y/N nears her table, pulling up her notebook and pen.

“I need you to work in the Creatives Department for the next two weeks.”

Y/N’s fingers freeze. She looks up at Nancy with eyes as wide as a goldfish. And before she can brain-filter out her words, they’ve already escaped her mouth. “What do you mean I have to be in the Creatives next week? I’m your personal assistant, not Min Yoongi’s!”

“Y/N, I didn’t say you will work for Yoongi. He’s not the head of the Creatives. Steven Spielberg is,” Nancy gives the girl an unamused look, waving her off from her desk. Y/N bites her lip as she takes two steps backward. She didn’t know she’s rushed up too close to Nancy’s table just at the prospect of Yoongi and her working together came from her boss’ lips.

Nancy leans back on her chair, “I know you two have this petty children-in-the-playground fights ever since the start of October last year. I get that your differences are too great to be bridged anytime soon, thus the reason why I grew tired telling you to stop doing your cat and dog thing because I know you two wouldn’t listen anyway. You two just like to bang heads whenever you like—”

“But, it’s Yoongi’s fault-”

Nancy raises a finger, “But, Y/N, this is really important. I will be out-of-the-country for the next three weeks for both some business and family matters. Hence, why I cannot bring you with me as usual. And why I will need you to work under Steven for the meantime: to report to me about any of their progress. The Creatives’ current designs will have us late into this month’s deadline and I do not want this business going down anytime soon because of a weak holiday cover. So, as my PA, you will report everything about their progress to me, and you will report my feedback to them. At the same time, you will tame your childish fights with Yoongi to a minimum so Travel Loca will function as well as it can be while I’m not physically here. Understand?”

Y/N nods, “understand, Ma’am.” She doesn’t have a choice even if she wanted to object. Whatever Nancy dictated is already set in stone.

“Also,” Nancy looks at Y/N, “since I will be off the next three weeks, my schedules for the weeks in my absence will be pushed and packed on the following week. So, I expect you to still work on your station—and work even harder after I came back. Understand?”

More workload? Y/N internally groans. She doesn’t like work getting reduced early into the week then doubling into hell in the latter part of the month. She likes them evened out—everything is balanced, familiar, and predictable. Nevertheless, Y/N only nods, “yes.” “No” doesn’t exist in Nancy’s dictionary.

Nancy returns to her laptop and waves her off, “Okay. Then, capiche.”

“Yes, ma’am, capiche,” Y/N makes a quick bow and scampers out of her boss’ office.

When Y/N reaches her station, she sinks herself into the cushion of her seat. First, Min Yoongi belittles her researching ability in the morning meeting. Then now, she will work with him for the majority of three weeks. After that, another hell will start because of Nancy’s incoming packed schedules.

Y/N’s eyes land on her laptop and she immediately sees her calendar. January 16, 2020. Thursday. Y/N releases an inhumane groan. Of course, the goddamn Thursday curse. When will she ever live?

“When will I ever die?” Y/N sobs into Mina’s shirt. Her friend keeps her arms around her tight as she cards through her hair.

“Hey, don’t think so negative,” Mina coos, “Think of this as an opportunity to finally have Nancy off your back.”

“Yeah, as if working with Min Yoongi is better than that. He already ruins my life when we only physically encounter each other in meetings and breaks and lunches. Imagine working with him for a whole fucking day!”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I take that back,” Mina hugs her friend tighter.

Y/N continues, “And after enduring all that, my workload will quadruple when Nancy comes back after three weeks! I already experienced this during her daughter’s debut last year. When Nancy said a pile of work will come, it fucking means four metal file cases of work. I spent the last two weeks of August plunging myself into an abyss of papers. I did not sleep for two weeks straight! And now— I will have three weeks-worth of hell work to come after spending three weeks working with the personification of Satan. Can the world just eat me up?!”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Mina pulls away to hold her bestfriend at arms-length, “What did you say will happen in three weeks?”

Y/N closes her eyes, “Another hell will come because a shit-pile of work is coming in three weeks! Mina, I’ve been telling you this since morning-”

“Y/N, after three weeks, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Y/N’s eyes immediately shoot open, “What?”

“Look,” Mina clicks on her phone and flashes Y/N her calendar app. “Today’s January 17. Exactly after three weeks is the Valentine’s week.”

Y/N’s jaw drops ajar, “Oh my god.”

“Yes, Y/N, oh my God. It’s the fucking Heart Holiday.”

“…The country’s long-time problem with their low birth rate has driven the government to build another department that will help its citizens build, manage, and maintain healthy relationships. The Department of Relationship Management was established in 2015, and ever since then, there have been impressive developments in our country’s birth rate. One of the best programs of DRM behind this wonderful growth is the Heart Holiday, the holiday held in the week of Valentine’s Day. It grants any person employed in a private sector one week of paid holiday vacation leave as long as they are currently in a relationship. Meanwhile, education establishments and students are given one week off their academic calendars without regard to their relationship status. Isn’t that sweet? The only downside to that, folks, is that government employees can only have two days of paid holiday leave on the 14th and 15th. But, still, a holiday is still a holiday! So for our lovely listeners, start planning your vacation trips and hangouts! Especially when Cloud 10 Airlines is there to make your holiday week even sweeter with their 70% discount on local trips! Just contact 675-9859 and 568-987—”

“Mina, can you turn off the radio?!”

“Again?!” Mina heaves, “What’s with your aggravation streak these days against Kim Seokjin’s voice?”

“It rattles me,” Y/N half-screams, plopping into the swivel chair next to her friend’s cubicle. “Yesterday, he already announced that goddamn timeline of the DRM and ‘all hailed’ importance of the Heart Holiday. Why does he have to repeat it again today? In that overly-enthusiastic voice, too, as if he’s never read of that script again and again?!”

“Y/N, it’s how broadcasting works. It’s one of the most awaited holidays in the year, so of course, they will nab as many advertisement deals as they can.”

“Well, I don’t like how they work!”

“You cannot just tell a radio company to stop working,” Mina turns in her chair to face her friend, “Also, stop venting your frustration on Seokjin. He doesn’t even know you hate his voice. Routinely doing this noise pollution doesn’t do anything at all. Just tell me what made you upset today.”

“It’s Yoongi!” Y/N scowls. “He won’t explain to me the technical editing terms on Steven’s report for Nancy! He said a five grader can even know what they are. I went through fifth grade, Mina, and I did not freaking know about any photoshop shit!”

“Well, that’s because you’re old.”

Mina looks up and sees Yoongi hovering her cubicle.

Y/N’s scowl deepens, as she turns her chair to the direction of the intruder. “As if you’re any much younger. From what I know, you’re four years older than me, dumbass.”

“Well, at least I know what Steven is talking about,” Yoongi props his chin on Mina’s cubicle.

Y/n rolls her eyes, “Because it’s your freaking line of work! Of course, you’ll know about it!”

“Well, you’re now working most of the time in the Creatives Team and you don’t know it. What does that make you, then? I’ll give you a hint: It’s what you called me three seconds ago. Starts with the letter ‘d’ and ends with the letter ‘s.’”

“What? You think you’re so smart now just because you know that vector-mask-thingy?! News flash, Yoongi, you did not graduate with any Latin honor. I did! So, who’s the real dumbass?!”

“You damn well know Latin honors doesn’t actually have any effect on real life. Practical knowledge has—especially knowledge about terminologies used in digital designing. Which you need because you won’t be able to report anything to your god Nancy. Because, well: You. Don’t. Know. Anything. Like. Always.”

“Min Yoongi, fuck you–”

“Guys, guys, guys, can you stop?”

Y/N gives Yoongi another glare before fixing herself back in her seat. Mina puffs, “Yoongi, can you leave us alone for a while? We’re talking here and you just invited yourself in our conversation.”

Yoongi chides, “Well, tell your friend that if she wants to shit-talk a person just a meter away from her without the said person barging in the conversation, she should keep her voice on the down-low. Not screaming around like a crazy ape.”

Y/N’s jaw drops open, “What crazy ape?! You’re the crazy ape! You look like a fucking gorilla who accidentally get dwarfed by a tooth fairy and-”

“Min Yoongi, just leave us alone,” Mina gives the man a pointed look.

Yoongi shrugs and detaches himself from her cubicle. He heads back to their office but he doesn’t completely leave the room without giving Y/N a middle finger.

Y/N’s mouth drops open in disbelief. She turns to Mina. “See? Isn’t it obvious he just wants to make me the bad man to Nancy again? What kind of person are you to not cooperate with your co-worker like a goddamn adult? I don’t get why no one sees this bitch’s true face but you and me! I just want to freaking tear off his face, make him wipe it in his ass, then place it back on his head since he’s such a literal ass—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mina clasps a hand over your shoulder, “don’t get too homicidal. What you just said, aside from disturbing, is very disgusting.”

Y/N slumps in her seat and crosses her arms.

Mina sighs. “Okay, yeah, I know, Min Yoongi is the worst. But I don’t want you to do anything stupid so let’s not talk about him for a while, ‘kay?” Y/N nods. Mina leans back in her seat with the nth sigh for the day. “Okay, I got some update from Jaehyun.”

Y/N leans forward. “What did he say?”

Mina gives you a sad smile, “He already has a fiancé.”

“So soon?” Y/N scoffs. “He was just courting me two months ago.”

“Yeah, well he’s getting married this week. Whatever,” Mina waves off, “I don’t like him for you anyway. He dresses like a college fuckboy.”

“Okay, what about Dahyun?”

“Already married.”

Y/N’s eyes widen, “and she didn’t tell us?”

“Yeah, I already nagged her on the phone. She said it all kinda happened too fast–her and Sana. And the marriage was in New York. We’re too broke for out-of-the-country trips to attend anyway if we were informed.” Mina smiles, “She said she’s gonna invite us to the Christening of their baby.”

“Okay, I’m glad she still cared about us. Oh,” Y/N pipes up, “what did Jackson say over the phone?”

Mina gives you a tight smile. “Getting married, too. And guess what, the invitations were already in our mail box when I went to get our bills.”

“Momo?”

“Engaged. She and Heechul just broke out the news a week ago.”

“Sam?”

“Married. And 4 months pregnant.”

“Jongdae?”

“Engaged. Also has a baby in way.”

“Hana?”

“Engaged.”

“Changmin?”

“Engaged.”

“Jaebum?

“Engaaaaaged.”

Y/N throws her hands in the air, “Why is everyone getting married?!”

“Well, we’re in our late 20s. It’s the “marrying age” they say. It got more enphasized when DRM’s programs had succeeded in encouraging hundreds of people to marry in the recent year. Even my mom already expects Mark to propose by next month. We’re just dating for 6 months!” Mina cringes. She pulls Y/N’s chair closer to her to hold her hands. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. It kinda slipped my mind that we always apply together for the Heart Holiday every year. It’s just that Mark and I—”

“Hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. You’ve been pining after Mark for about two years and now look at you—together, stable, and in-love half into the year! I don’t want you to fret having a relationship with the boy you liked for so long.”

“Yeah, Y/N, I know,” Mina closes her eyes. “It’s just sad and unfortunate everyone we know are already in relationships.”

“Yeah…” Y/N nods and the two fall into silence. Why is everyone conveniently in a relationship just in time with the Heart Holiday? What, the whole world suddenly knew the loophole in DRM’s program? Y/N and Mina studied that for a whole year! This is unfair. Y/N cannot be the only single person out there who’ll miserably work in the office while everyone gets to have the time of their lives—wait.

Y/N grabs Mina’s hands. “Hey, Nana, I know we said co-workers are off-limits because Nancy will definitely know it’s a ruse. She’ll block my application form before it can even have the seal from the HR. Especially when she found out our lesbian “relationship” was fake after you and Mark updated your civil statuses.” Mina winces and opens her mouth to apologize again but Y/N cuts her with a finger to her mouth. “Nancy will definitely call me a liar and grill my head if she finds out what we’re planning to do now. But look, Nancy’s out of the country. Teddy is the general supervisor and she’s the next in the hierarchy. We damn well know her 45-year-old heart is soft for some nicely-woven romantic story. Even more, in an office setting—the bane of every middle-aged woman’s sappy romantic heart. So, what do you say?”

Mina lets out an exasperated breath, “That crossed my mind, too, you know. But, Y/N, the thing is—the whole Accounting Department is in a relationship. And the same goes for the Writing, Marketing, Logistics, and HR. All of them are either in a relationship, married, or getting married.”

“What?” Y/N’s eyebrows curve up high, “How come I didn’t know this?”

“Uh, because you’re busy working for Nancy day-in and day-out? Also, I just happen to be friends with Jisoo from HR. She’s in charge of the company’s relationship records. Sometimes, she slips in everyone’s stories while we listen to WWL Radio during break time.”

Y/N bites her lip. This can’t be happening to her. Not now. Not when the most un-objectifiable reason for a break from Nancy is about to slip through her fingers like fine sand.

Mina scratches her nape, “I…may have someone in mind though.”

Y/N’s eyes look straight into Mina’s. “Tell me.”

“Well, the entire Creatives Department is either married or engaged save for one.”

Y/N holds Mina’s hands tighter. “Who?”

“Min, Yoongi.”

Y/N must be going crazy. She thinks she must be growing a nest of vultures in her brain now, the mother routinely picking on her numerous dead brain cells to feed to her young. It doesn’t help that the bags under her eyes have started to droop like a waterfall, forming a sad saddle of grey on her cheeks. She cannot even remember the last time she had a decent meal. All she remembers is the finger foods Mina hands to her station every once in a while.

The universe is being unfair to her and it is all taking a toll on her body. They weren’t kidding when they said adjusting to a new environment is an entire whole work in itself. The Creatives Team runs a completely different routine. Large monitors crammed with multiple editing softwares Y/N cannot understand surround the studio-size office space. There are drafted papers and previous issues scattered in every possible corner, some even gathering dust by the floor-to-ceiling windows. Y/N is not even sure if anyone has re-arranged their desks in the last few months. The Creatives’ work ethic is loosely bound on schedules and everyone seems to be doing everyone else’s job. Except for Y/N, because Steven is the only one willing to share their team’s progress to her. But that alone is not enough for her daily report to Nancy because Steven is always busy in his computer. More unfortunately, everyone is wary of her. Y/N’s sure she even saw Kim Myungsoo clutch their design folders closer to his chest when her eyes glanced at his cubicle.

Sure, Y/N expected everyone will have their guards up on her. Who wouldn’t be when they know Nancy still has eyes on them even if she’s countries away? But still, it doesn’t lessen the pain on Y/N’s self-esteem and the stress on her back. If Y/N can’t get someone to talk to her, she won’t be able to provide a more substantial report to Nancy more than just reading Steven’s printed reports verbatim.

Y/N is desperate to find a workmate to discuss everything happening in the Creatives with her, but unluckily for her, she only has someone she wishes to not even breathe the same air with. Of course, no one in the Creatives wants to talk to her except for Min Yoongi. He’s an insufferable ass who doesn’t know when to shut up. He welcomes Y/N every single day with an annoying “Yo, Y/N” and an unneeded commentary about her outfit, like how yesterday he told her “I know retro is in but I didn’t know grandma blouses are deemed stylish again.” He blabbers about his unnecessarily extensive general knowledge about every South Asian country, even if Y/N countlessly told him she didn’t care. He brags about the cover designs and templates he did in the previous issues, flipping the pages too close in Y/N’s face while he speaks about colors and mixing like Y/N is an imbecile about basic color combinations high school students used in their PowerPoint presentations. Yet despite them all, Yoongi still refuses to explain to her the jargon in Steven’s reports.

Y/N tried her best to keep herself from bursting and giving Yoongi an earful of sense. Yes, everyone knows she does not like Yoongi but Y/N doesn’t want them to know to what extent she can go to express them, afraid of embarrassing herself. But in her defense, three days into the first week without Nancy, Yoongi has gone as far as to chip a small bit off Y/N’s mug in the break room. The mug with the “creative juices” in cursive printed around its body—Mina’s gift from college. Y/N’s patience meter was blasted off the roof. It will be safe to tell that at the end of the day, Y/N has screamed the hell out of Yoongi that everyone can be sure the latter’s ears may have fallen out of his head. Steven was close to reporting to Teddy what just happened. It was just Y/N’s remaining luck that helped her successfully and implicitly begged Steven not to do so by telling him calling Yoongi “a mean, inconsiderate, self-absorbed jerk who should eat his shit because people are what they eat and he is obviously the biggest shit in her life,” is just her “unique” way of expressing co-worker appreciation to the man.

Aside from putting up with Yoongi’s Satanic attitude, Y/N has to endure Nancy’s intermittent calls with her forever pissed voice coming in first thing in the morning until in the late, ungodly hours. And despite Teddy’s patient guidance over Y/N’s “transition” to the Creatives Team, Y/N’s still close to digging a six-feet deep hole in her station. No, not because of Teddy or Nancy. It’s because she poured her remaining effort dedicated for work by spending the entire week going through every staff member of Travel Loca. Y/N thought Mina must have overlooked a face. That it’s possible Jisoo skipped on a detail she told to her friend. But despite learning Lee Minyoung from the Writing Department is going to call it quits to her boyfriend just after Valentine’s, or how Michael Park from Marketing is about to pop the ring to his girlfriend just right on Valentine’s Day, the looming fact Y/N dreads presents itself on January 24, two weeks before Valentine’s: No one else in the office is single but her…and Min Yoongi.

Of course, it didn’t surprise Y/N, Yoongi must be single. With that know-it-all façade and condescending tone wearing you out like a 24/7 walking instruction manual no one even asked for, who would even like to date him? One week with him as a co-worker alone already makes Y/N want to throw herself into the flaming hot pit of the nearest volcano.

But it’s only two more weeks before Valentine’s and Y/N is desperate and desperate times call for desperate measures. Y/N did a last-minute check-up on her and Mina’s lists of contacts—phone, social media, e-mails, everything under the sun—only to come up with nothing. Mina’s “marrying age” theory must be true because everyone, every single one, of their acquaintances are already married or getting married. Y/N then changed up her game. She started to opt for resources she never thought she will ever use in her life: dating apps. Tinder, Bumble, The League, Grindr—name it, Y/N had made every account for every conceivable dating site. She even spent the most of her break time this week hiding her phone beneath her desk and swiping right. But even this last considerable option proved to be pointless as all the replies she received are either honest “sorry, not interested,” rude “you’re no fun,” or out-right salacious “suck my dick.”

This then left Y/N no choice but to consider the most unspeakably horrendously unfortunate option she didn’t even want to have. Min Yoongi is her only choice left. And for that, Y/N spent two days making an elaborate plan. She can’t afford any loose threads or plan-holes that can further make her at the mercy of the infuriating jerk. However, even if she made everything as seamless as it can be, Y/N knows it will be the worst decision she’ll ever make in her life. Mina also expressed the same concern, even apologized for planting that small information about Yoongi in her friend’s mind. But even her friend’s day-by-day discouragement to push through with her plan is not enough to deter Y/N.

Because even if just thinking about the plan makes Y/N feel the world is about to crumble and swallow her down in its unending, fathomless depths; even if it makes her want to set up an appointment with an exorcist, Y/N knew she won’t back out. It’s not viruses or bacteria, it’s a seeded idea that is the most contagious living entity that can take hold of any human being. And the moment Y/N realized there’s no other ticket way out of her dilemma but Yoongi, she knew this thought will haunt her for nights on end.

This is the reason why Y/N’s currently standing by the corner of the Creatives’ office when it’s already 6:46 P.M. while almost everyone has left the office. Almost, because Yoongi, apart from her, is the only one left in the office as Steven requested him to finish a color palette by tonight. Y/N gulps a thick blob of saliva. Sweat runs thick on her forehead. God, if Mina could see what Y/N’s about to do, she will be already by her side, yelling for her to just give up. Y/N shakes her head. This is Mina’s fault anyway. If she didn’t plant the idea in her head, she wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t be creeping behind a door like a disgusting stalker. She wouldn’t be profusely sweating in an air-conditioned room like a guilty murderer. She wouldn’t be-

“What the hell are you doing behind the door?”

Y/N shrieks and jumps a half-foot away from her spot.

“The hell—what’s gotten into you?!” Yoongi frowns, “And why are you even here?”

Y/N’s brows meet together in her forehead. But before she can speak, Yoongi’s snickers drown out the words in her throat.

“Wait, don’t tell me you’ve come as far as spying on my work. I didn’t know you’re going to be this petty,” Yoongi sighs and puts his hand on his waist, “Well, if you think going through my work laptop will get you to understand Steven’s report, I’m sorry to say you won’t get anything, little girl.”

Yes, it’s true. The words did die out in Y/N’s throat. It’s just flames of anger sweeping in the valleys of her mouth. Y/N surges forward, fists clenched tight, “‘Little girl’? I am not a fucking little girl!”

Yoongi grins, “Then what should I call someone who’s a foot smaller than me?”

“What fucking ‘foot’?! We’re just inches apart! Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror? You’re not even that tall!”

“Says the one who’s looking up at me just to level her eyes with mine,” Yoongi raises his brows, “and who’s now standing a little too close to me because apparently, standing a socially-decent foot away won’t enable her to see my face.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and she immediately takes a step back. She doesn’t get how easy it is for Yoongi to rile her up that she instantly forgets how to control her body. When she looks up at him, the man is smirking at her. Her mouth aches to tell him he actually looks stupid with that lopsided smile if he thought doing it will make him a tad bit inch sorry excuse of “sexy.” But then, Y/N remembers she has a purpose tonight. She didn’t just waste an hour waiting in the excruciating office space of the Creatives Team just to get nothing done.

Y/N closes her eyes and breathes out. When she opens them again, she looks at Yoongi in the eyes. “I’m not here to fight with you, Yoongi. I’m here to make an offer.”

Yoongi scoffs, “An offer? You? Are you hearing yourself right now? In case you weren’t informed, I don’t need anything from you. And I didn’t—”

“You’re single right?”

Yoongi gawks at her, “W-what?”

“Well, I’m single, too. And Valentine’s week is coming in two weeks.”

“So?”

Y/N tries not to grit her teeth, “So, that means the Heart Holiday is also coming. Nancy is bound to come back during that time, too, with an obvious incoming large workload to come for me. I can’t afford to hole myself up in this office while everyone gets to enjoy a paid holiday week. And since you have an affinity for disliking your job, I figured you also wouldn’t want to go to work during Valentine’s week.” Y/N crosses her arms, “So I’m here, Min Yoongi, to give you an offer: Fake date me for two weeks to make it to DRM’s PRS’ application deadline. When our application gets approved, we part ways and never speak about what happened in these two weeks. It’s a win-win situation. I don’t get to work during Valentine’s. You also don’t get to work, and we both will still get paid. So, what do you say?”

Yoongi just stares at her. Y/N could feel cold sweat running from her scalp and down to her back. Why is he looking at her like that? Why is he being so silent? Is he about to make fun of her and bring it up to work tomorrow? Oh God, Y/N shouldn’t have even gone through with this plan. This is a bad idea. A bad, bad, bad, idea that should have never been entertained and buried in a trunk of embarrassing memories, never to see the light again—

“I’m in.”

Y/N freezes, “W-what?”

Yoongi takes a step closer to Y/N. He leans forward, closing the distance between their faces into mere six inches. Y/N doesn’t need to crane her head up anymore because this time, their eyes are finally leveled with each other.

Yoongi smiles, “I’m telling you, Y/N, I’m in in your plan.”

Y/N looks at him. She just looks at him. Five seconds have already passed. Yoongi should be laughing in her face right now. But the man did not, and takes a step back away from her. He fixes his satchel on his shoulder and closes the Creatives’ glass door behind him shut. When Yoongi looks back at Y/N, he gives her a shrug, “Hey, if you’re not going home, I am.” He heads for the main door, hands dug into his pockets. Y/N’s eyes just follow his figure. Before Yoongi completely gets out of the office, he hollers, a hand cupping over his mouth, “I said I’m already in in your plan. You can go now. See you tomorrow.” He sends Y/N one last smile.

It takes Y/N five more seconds before she breaks her frozen stance. What did just happen? Yoongi didn’t laugh at her. He didn’t put up a fight. He….agreed? Just like that? This is impossible. This cannot happen! Yoongi doesn’t agree, he argues! Always! And he just doesn’t bid her goodbye and “see you tomorrow.” Yoongi annoys her with one last hit of “goodbye, grandma.” And Yoongi doesn’t smile. He smirks. He just pulls up one side of his lips, squints his eyes, and snorts. Y/N must be going crazy. This is not Yoongi! A whole different man has suddenly appeared before her. This cannot be!

But despite all the things going back and forth in her head right now, there’s only one looming thought on top of them all that had Y/N release a staggered breath:

What the fuck did she just get herself into?

next | series masterlist

Disclaimer: This first chapter is based on Netflix’s Set It Up (2018), particularly Nancy’s briefing scene and the USB scene. Netflix’s Set It Up (2018) is the inspiration for this fic and so I based Ms. Nancy’s personality on Lucy Liu’s portrayal of Kirsten Stevens! Ms. Lucy Liu was fantastic in her performance! That being said, all scenes and references from the movie used in this story are the property of its respective owners. The rest belongs to the author. This work is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended. Anyways, if you wish to watch the movie, don’t worry about encountering any spoilers in this fic!

A/N pt. 2: Hi hons! I decided to cut this fic into parts as this will be very long (hello banter dialogues). Writing a 25+k wordcount (so far, this is my assumed final wordcount) may overwhelm a lot of readers and make them not want to read this anymore ☹ Anyway, the succeeding parts will be released soon as I already have a detailed storyboard and outline for this mini-series so you don’t have to wait that long. Thank you for giving this fic a chance, hons. Also, feedback is more than appreciated. Tell me what you guys think! ♡♡♡ \(> u

Taglist: @fangirls94 @ditttiii @chogiyeol-utopia

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leigh-kelly · 7 years

Text

Every Little Thing She Does is Magic

Summary: Brittany and Santana’s 313th wedding anniversary on Halloween is interrupted by a letter granting them custody of their teenage niece Sugar. Sabrina the Teenage Witch AU.

As the bright red of the blood moon streams through blinds deliberately left open, Brittany’s knees begin to jiggle, and her body shakes in excitement. Scowling at the old black cat who often insists on sleeping at the foot of the bed, she rolls onto her side, looking at the serene face of her wife, who once managed to sleep while the Battle of Lexington raged on just outside of their old stone house. But if there’s one thing she knows Santana can’t sleep through, it’s her kisses, and Brittany starts at the crown of her head, kissing along her hairline, then over her cheekbones and nose. By the time she reaches her chin, she’s well aware that Santana is awake, but she doesn’t stop her game, purposefully avoiding her lips as she kisses her shoulder, her clavicle, the hollow of her throat—

“If that damn animal is in here, you better not go any further than that.” Santana growls, though she laughs as she says it, eyes opening, and flickering in the red moonlight.

“I told you we should have sent him to live with Mercedes centuries ago.” Brittany rolls her eyes, and lets Santana pull her down to kiss her mouth.

“I can hear you, you know.” Kurt huffs from the floor, kneading the blanket in front of him with his paws, and yawning wide.

“We know. You always can.” Santana rolls her eyes, still kissing Brittany. “Get out of here, no one wants you around.”

“Quit talking to me like I’m a cat.” He arches his back, and stalks toward the door.

“You are a cat.” Brittany points her finger, zapping his tail for good measure. When he scurries out of the room, she zaps the door shut, and makes sure the lock is turned. “Now, where were we?”

“I think you were kissing right here.” Santana points to her most sensitive spot just below her ear, and Brittany obliges, sucking the thin skin into her mouth. “This is why I married you.”

“I thought you married me because I rescued you from the clutches of old Billy Stoughton.”

“Well, that…but also because you’re a bewitching kisser.”

“You’re doing puns already? It’s only midnight.” Brittany sticks out her tongue.

“And it’s Halloween…and our anniversary…” Santana hums, arching up as Brittany dips her head lower, and brings her hand up under her t-shirt to cup her left breast. “Some lucky wake up.”

“Some lucky three-hundred-and-thirteen years.”

“The luckiest.”

After making each other lucky, Brittany and Santana fall back to sleep, and it’s Santana who wakes first in the morning. Leaving Brittany in her blissful state of naked slumber, Santana slips out of bed, and quickly zaps herself into a robe and slippers, and goes down to the kitchen to start breakfast. To her ire, Kurt is on the counter again, and though she threatens both death by fire and the dreaded water bottle, he stays put, swishing his tail around and moaning about the familial obligations for the high holiday, while Santana flicks her finger and scrambles eggs on the stove. She’s just about finished making Brittany’s breakfast in bed, when the toaster pops, and a red letter slides out onto the counter.

“What did you do now?” She rolls her eyes at Kurt. “If you get any more time added to your sentence, you’re out for good. And you know what that means…”

“Nooo!” He cries out, a combination of a screech and a mewl, and Santana chuckles to herself, imagining Kurt spending the rest of his days with Mercedes and Mike’s kids chasing him around, pulling his tail, and probably, knowing them, riding around on him. “Not the kids! Not the kids!”

“Should have thought about that before you—” Santana opens the letter, and furrows her brow. “Oh, it wasn’t you. It’s Sugar.”

“Yes, please!” Kurt licks around his furry mouth, in the way that makes Santana want to gag, and she shoos him away.

“Sugar our niece. It’s a letter from the Witches Council. Why am I telling you this?”

“Because I’m going to listen outside the door when you tell Brittany anyway?”

“If it didn’t involve fresh pig’s blood, I’d have done a soundproofing spell on our bedroom back when Lincoln was president.”

“Please, you like that I snoop.”

“No, I don’t. And I don’t like that when I’m trying to get my mac on with Britts, you’re all up in my business.”

“Trust me.” He gags like he’s about to cough up a hairball. “No one wants to be part of that less than me.”

Getting the eggs onto a plate, Santana hurries up the stairs with the letter in her other hand. When she gets to the bedroom, she closes and locks the door behind her, and she sits down on the edge of the bed, looking between her wife’s peaceful face, and the letter that’s probably set to change their lives. They’d had a sneaking suspicion since she was born that it would come someday, and with Sugar’s sixteenth birthday tomorrow, they probably should have expected it would actually be today. But apparently it had taken the Witches Council over a decade and a half to track down Brittany’s brother and his mortal wife, and they’d half-hoped when they did, they’d let him get away with breaking the cardinal rule of the Other Realm: No marrying mortals.

“Britt.” Santana whispers, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I know I promised I’d let you sleep late today, but you’ve gotta wake up.”

“Nuh-uh. You promised if we went one more round, you’d let me sleep until noon.”

“I made you break-fast.” She singsongs, holding the plate under Brittany’s nose until she reluctantly opens her eyes.

“It’s a double holiday. Why are you always up so early?” Brittany groans, pushing herself to sit up, and wrapping the blanket around her naked body.

“Because I hate sleeping late.” Santana shrugs. “We got a letter from the Witches Council.”

“What did Kurt do now?” Brittany huffs, and Santana has to laugh, thinking how three-hundred-and-thirteen years together has really made them rub off on each other.

“It wasn’t him this time. It’s about a custody hearing for Sugar.”

“They threw the book at him.” She rakes her hands through her hair, concern crossing her features. “And they won’t let her stay with her mother.”

“I’m sorry, Britt.” Santana wraps her arms around her wife, feeling sympathy for her internal struggle over her brother’s punishment.

“We knew it might happen.” Brittany shakes her head. “It’s fine. It’s just…a sixteen-year-old, Santana. We decided not to have kids, and now…I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this.”

“She’s family, baby. We talked about this, when we thought it might be a possibility right after she was born, and I haven’t changed my mind about being okay with it. Are you not?”

“No, no. It’s Sugar, she’s a good kid. As far as teenagers go, we’re probably getting lucky that she’s the one we’re going to get. I just don’t want you to look back and, like…resent me that your mid-three-hundreds were spent raising a kid.”

“Hey.” Santana points to the bed, making a single white lily appear there, before picking it up and handing it to Brittany. “I’m pretty sure I swore in our marriage vows that nothing would ever make me resent you. I love Shug, and most of all, I love you. Maybe we were wrong not wanting to have kids, and maybe this’ll be really good for us.”

“You know how much time we’re going to have to spend with mortals?” Brittany groans. “We’re going to have to send her to high school. And go to teacher conferences, and bake sales, and, like…chaperone school dances or something.”

“We used to hang out with mortals, remember?”

“The last time we hung out with mortals, they were hunting us, remember? The 1690s were not good years.”

“Babe, you met me in the 1690s. Sometimes, good things come out of hanging around with mortals, right?”

“Everyone always thinks I’m the sap.” Brittany laughs, kissing Santana’s lips. “And you’re right, I’m sorry. I wasn’t even considering not taking her. I just wanted to complain about the mortal thing for like…a minute.”

“I love you, you know.”

“Oh, I do know.” Brittany kisses her hand, and reaches over to grab the plate of eggs. “Share?”

“Always.”

They share breakfast in bed, and then they know that they have to go to the Other Realm, before Sue, the head of the Witches Council absolutely loses it on them for taking so long to get there. While Brittany zaps herself into jeans and a sweater, Santana goes for the most conservative dress she owns. It’s not like Sue doesn’t know them, but she figures she should just…make some kind of impression or something. Brittany puts her hand on the small of her back as they enter the linen closet, and for some unknown reason, Kurt insists upon tagging along, jumping up into Santana’s arms just before she closes the door.

Despite her own love for Halloween, Brittany has to roll her eyes at the cheesy party store decorations that adorn the Other Realm, but Santana, as always, is charmed by them. It’s been a joking bone of contention in their home since the early eighties, when party stores began popping up all over the place. Brittany, the traditionalist, has always wanted to keep their home decorated with the antiques they’ve gathered over the years, including a few real bones, but Santana, ready to jump on the next trend, constantly comes home with plastic skulls and glitter pumpkins and bat garland. They’ve managed to come to some sort of compromise, at least, but it does still make Brittany laugh and-slash-or cringe every time Santana gets excited about knockoff decorations.

“Brittany! Santana!” Sue’s voice booms over the tones of a xylophone from somewhere up above, and while Santana jumps, Brittany just pulls a face, having gotten used to Sue’s penchant for dramatic entrances after far too many visits to this office. “You may enter!”

Because she knows Santana always gets nervous in the presence of Sue—particularly after she witnessed firsthand her turning Kurt into a cat, after his failed attempt at world domination—Brittany takes her wife’s hand, and leads her back through a plasticized spider web, and into Sue’s chambers. Inexplicably wearing a white judicial wig, Sue sits at a podium, tapping her watch to remind them of their delay in getting to their hearing. Kurt, for his part, hisses at her, then quickly buries his furry head in Santana’s shoulder, remembering that, perhaps, he shouldn’t have done that.

“Sue.” Brittany speaks in monotone, wishing she could hiss out years of pent up anger over Sue and the Witches Council watching their every move, as a result of Kurt’s plans, and her brother’s indiscretion. “Happy Halloween.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me that I’m working on a high holiday because your brother couldn’t follow the rules. I started at six-am, sentencing him to one-hundred years in the book. You can look him up under Pierce, Brian, by the way. And now, let me settle the issue of the child. Pierce, Sugar, age fifteen and three-hundred-sixty-four days. Half witch, half…mortal.” Sue sniffs with derision. “At the stroke of midnight on the first of November 2017, the child will come into possession of her powers. At such time, her connection with the mortal mother will be severed, and as her father is otherwise…preoccupied, that leaves the question of who will care for her, and educate her in the ways of the Other Realm. Of which—”

“We’ll take her!” Santana announces, though both she and Brittany are well aware that Sue hates when she doesn’t let her finish. “Just…trying to get you out of here early.”

“Oh.” Sue rolls her eyes. “How kind of you to let me go thirty-seconds early on a day I wasn’t supposed to be here anyway.”

“Like you have a life.” Kurt snickers into Santana’s sleeve.

“What was that? Fifty more years?”

“No!” He whines, jumping from Santana’s arms to Brittany’s.

“Watch it then. So, you both agree to the custody terms?” Sue unravels a scroll that hits Santana’s foot, and she looks at Brittany alarmed.

“Oh, just sign it.” Brittany shakes her head. “You know it’s always full of the dumbest things. Six paragraphs on the fact that we have to feed her.”

“Where is she going to stay? We have the get the bedroom ready. That’ll take us…at least five minutes. I already know you won’t agree on doing something super trendy and—”

“Babe.” Brittany bites back a smile. “Honestly, not everything has to be trendy and modern. We could do a really nice—”

“Hello??” Sue taps her imaginary wristwatch. “Not getting any younger around here.”

“We know.” Santana sucks her teeth, and grabs the pen, beginning to sign her name on the obscenely long document. “We had to you to your thousandth birthday party like…six years in a row. “There!”

“And done.” Brittany signs her name neatly, right beside Santana’s left-handed scrawl.

“Effective midnight tonight, this court grants you permanent legal custody of one Sugar Motta Pierce. Now, get the hell out of my office.”

Santana scurries to the door much faster than Brittany, and when lightning strikes, they’re transported back through their linen closet. Kurt jumps down from Brittany’s arms and scampers off, and Santana and Brittany are left standing in the hallway across from one of the empty bedrooms in their old Victorian mansion. They share a glance, and Brittany steps forward first, pushing the door open. The room is home to a musty old collection of things, gathered across centuries, but the big window with a bench makes her almost wistful that it’s never been used. Brittany’s brother had Sugar, Santana’s half-sister has three little girls, but they’d decided two centuries ago that it was easier just to pretend the Other Realm technology that would have given them a child that combined their DNA just wasn’t for them. But now here they stand, on their three-hundred-thirteenth anniversary, signed on to legal custody of a sixteen-year old girl, in just fourteen hours.

“Do you ever regret it?” Santana murmurs, looking into Brittany’s clear blue eyes.

“I don’t. Do you?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “We’ve traveled all seven continents. We’ve met nearly everyone any history book worth anything names. And we’ve loved each other a lot. I don’t think a baby was ever in our cards. Don’t get me wrong, I love kids, but I love the life I’ve had with you.”

“We sound like we’re old and grey.” Brittany laughs, shaking out her long blonde hair.

“Don’t you ever say that again.” Santana cocks an eyebrow. “We made a deal, we’re never getting old.”

“I’m kind of…okay with it though, you know? I mean, as long as it’s with you. I’d sooner die than spend my life a miserable old bat like Sue who marries herself.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you know. Don’t they say if you don’t get sick of someone in the first hundred years, then you’ll never get sick of them?”

“Probably. But I’m way too much fun for you to get sick of.” Brittany teases. “And you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Do we know anything at all about teenagers?”

“I know that they sneak out against their father’s express commands and rescue pretty girls from witch trials.”

“It would be my luck that I was the only actual witch who ended up on trial.”

“It took you about two-hundred years to actually learn how to be sneaky.” Brittany laughs, tucking a lock of Santana’s hair behind her ear. “Although I’ve gotta say, I am grateful that you’re unbearably honest.”

“Like you’re not? People just always seem to think you’re kidding.”

“It’s the blonde thing. But really…I don’t think teenagers are hard. Especially now. Can’t we just buy her a phone with buy her a phone with a tracker thing, and be fine? We don’t even have to use a spell, they want those fancy technological things.” Brittany wrinkles her nose, and Santana laughs at her dislike of them.

“I’d tell be getting in touch with you by carrier pigeon if I didn’t force you to have a cellphone.”

“I hate it. Plus, Kurt prank calls me almost every hour, even when he’s sitting right next to me. His paws couldn’t tie a message to a pigeon if we did it that way, and he definitely couldn’t use a telegraph either.”

“So obviously I get to be the cool aunt. Maybe we should get her a new iPhone as a birthday gift?”

“Nope. No way.” Brittany shakes her head. “It’s her sixteenth birthday. She gets a magic book, a cauldron and the old hat that’s been passed down in my family since the hundreds.”

“So then should I expect spider’s legs for my anniversary gift tonight?” Santana chides, and a mischievous look crosses Brittany’s face.

“Babe! Why are you ruining the surprise?” She pulls her close, and rubs her nose against Santana’s, husking, “Legs might be part of the surprise, but I promise you, there are only two of them.”

Groaning, Santana sighs, “You’re going to make me wait all day for that?”

“After we do this bedroom, I have to get some pig’s blood.”

“Why do you—” Santana starts, then realizes the urgent necessity of a sound proofing spell. “Right. Good plan.”

“Hmm.” Brittany hums, kissing Santana. “I’ll make a lot of sacrifices, but sweet lady kisses aren’t one of them. And since you’re inexplicably squicked out by pig’s blood, more than any of the weird shit we’ve seen, I’ll do the spell.”

“Obviously this is why I love you.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“You know it’s not. But it’s definitely going on top of the list now.”

Together, they go into the spare bedroom, and while Brittany zaps their junk into the basement, Santana conjures the old furniture out of it. Maybe it’s not even close to what she’d choose, but she’ll let Brittany win this one…for now, until she gets an afternoon with Sugar at the mall so she can choose some of her own things. She may not know a lot about kids, but she figures being ripped out of her home is probably going to be traumatic, so the more they can do to make it feel like home, the better. And truth be told, Santana is a little excited about having a teenager move in, especially one like Sugar. She’s spent the weekend with them before, and even when they were under strict rules not to use their magic, they had fun with her. And now, knowing that they’re going to be helping Sugar get used to her own is even more thrilling.

Once the room is done, Brittany goes downstairs to take a phone call from her mother. The one downside to having been married on the happiest day of the entire year is the fact that they never just get to celebrate their anniversary without a dozen family obligations, but somehow, they always manage to make up for it. This year too is better, Santana thinks, because it’s Brittany’s family’s year, and she doesn’t have to deal with her grandmother asking when she’s going to get married, despite knowing full well that she’s married to Brittany, and she doesn’t have to hear her sister needle her about when they’re going to have kids. Brittany’s family is more interesting, sure, with her mother-in-law full of a eight-hundred years worth of wildly inappropriate stories that mortify Brittany, but they’re not critical, and Santana is certain that even though Brittany won’t say it, she prefers being with them too.

“Apparently.” Brittany huffs, coming up the stairs and into the bedroom where Santana checks her e-mail. “Sue neglected to tell us that Sugar’s been at Mom’s for three days, and my brother and Caroline already had a whole conversation with her about how she’s coming to live with us. Do these people ever even keep us in the loop about anything? I mean, I don’t blame Carolina, because she’s been shipped off to an archeological dig in Peru, but the Magic Book was right on the dresser. Brian could have gotten in touch with me…and don’t get me started on Mom. I think she was hoping we never found out, so she could keep Shug and raise her to tell graphic stories about the conception of her children right in the middle of Halloween dinner.”

“Still not letting it go?” Santana teases a little. “It was two-hundred and fifty years ago.”

“If your mom told a story like that, would you ever let it go?”

“If my mom told a story like that, I’d probably be impressed that she actually stopped doing the old Lopez sweet everything under the rug shtick. God, babe, I’m so glad we don’t have to go to my boring family this year. And it’s good Sugar already knows, no? I mean, we don’t have to inflict trauma on her on Halloween of all days.”

“I guess…” Brittany pouts, having been left out of the loop of family things for most of her life, “I just feel bad, like…oh, you’re going to live with Aunt Britt and Aunt Banana, but they can’t be bothered to pick you up for three days. Kinda messed up.”

“You know you’re the only one who still calls me Aunt Banana, right? Sugar outgrew that like…ten years ago.”

“I know, but it’s cute, and you’re cute, so whatevs.” Brittany shrugs, then starts laughing. “Sorry, I said I wouldn’t pick up hip lingo anymore after the time I told the mailman to bag his face…but I like whatevs.”

“You are also very cute.” Santana kisses her nose. “So does your mom want us to come early and talk to Sugar about what’s going on?”

“I guess so, I mean, as far as she knows until tomorrow, Caroline is just in Peru of her own accord, and Brian is working in Indonesia, so she’s staying here a few months. Once she knows she’s a witch, we’re gonna have to have the whole talk, but I guess I’d feel better if we talked to her before the party.”

“At least she still thinks it’s weird that we love Halloween…for her, it would be way worse if it was Christmas. She’s the only witch besides you who is obsessed with Christmas.” Santana laughs, and puts her arms around Brittany, until Kurt interrupts them by jumping onto the bed.

“Don’t forget how much I love Christmas!” He mewls.

“No. One. Cares. Do you really have to interrupt every one of our conversations, and get your hair all over our bed? Some of us sleep there you know.”

“Some of us more than sleep there.” Brittany whispers into Santana’s ear, loud enough for Kurt to hear. “I know Kurt loves curling up in our lady juice.”

“Oh my Goddess, babe, never say that again!” Santana pulls a face, but Kurt immediately jumps down, moaning and groaning about how disgusting they are.

“Totally worked though, didn’t it?” A smirk crosses Brittany’s face, and Santana can’t help but do the same. “I’m sorry we’re gonna have to cancel our pre-family dinner plans. I know how much we were looking forward to doing Venus tonight.”

“Venus’ll always be there, Britt. It’s not like it’s Pluto, going in and out of being a planet all the time. This year we’ll celebrate by being…legal guardians to a teenager. It’s totally good, I promise.”

“Seriously though, have I ever told you really how much I love you? I mean, really really?”

“We’ve been married over three centuries, you definitely have told me a lot of times, and you definitely told me like…four and a half this morning?”

“I think it was more than four and a half.” Brittany winks, trailing her fingers down Santana’s side. “And I’m pretty much gonna get the pigs blood like…first thing after we send her to school tomorrow morning. I’ll tell you one thing, babe, having a kid will not wreck havoc on our sex life.”

“Britt? I never expected that it would. I still feel like I’m eighteen when I’m with you.”

“And you don’t even look a day older.”

“Charmer.” Santana scrubs her face with her hands to wash away the heat from it.

“Oh, I’ve got charms, but that one’s just the truth.” Brittany winks. “Listen, I think we should look up Brian. I just, like, feel like I need to yell at him before we get Shug, mostly because he didn’t get in touch with me. Are you cool with that? Seriously, I promise that our whole anniversary won’t be me dealing with my family.”

“Hey, we both knew that was going to happen when we got married on the most sacred holiday of the year. This one is just…a little more hectic than usual, but it’s totally fine. I’ll get the book.”

Going into their closet, Santana lifts the big Magic Book that she’d already put away onto the stand. She steps back and watch Brittany face the thing, understanding how hard it has to be for her to find her brother there, especially because they were both completely on board when he got married, despite knowing the consequences if Sue and the Witches Council managed to find him despite his concealment spell, and refusal to use magic in Sugar’s presence since the day she was born. Brittany’s brow furrows, and she licks her finger, letting half the pages of the book flip by, until she lands on page five-hundred-thirty-eight, where Brian Pierce, in all his warlock glory, blinks up at them.

“Nice of you to let me know, Bri.” Brittany rolls her eyes. “It’d have been nice to hear what happened from you, or at least Mom, rather than a letter in my toaster this morning.”

“Happy Halloween to you too, Sis. Santana, you’re looking well.”

“Thanks, Brian.” Santana flushes, hating when the two of them argue, and Brian tries to charm her. “But really, she’s right. Sugar’s been waiting for us for days?”

“I just assumed Mom would tell you.” He rolls his eyes, looking strikingly like his sister. “She was there when I told Shug I had to leave for work. I have been a little busy…living in a book and all.”

“All the more time to get in touch with us.” Brittany mutters, and Santana puts her hand on the small of her back.

“I’m sorry, Britt, and you too, Santana, about this whole mess.”

“That we don’t blame you for. I know we’re supposed to prescribe to the whole rules are rules thing, but honestly, the rules are dumb. And you’d think now that Sugar’s actually going to have her magic, it would be less of an issue that you lived with her.”

“It was. But they were going to turn her mother into a ball of wax, if I got off without punishment…so I made a deal with Sue. A hundred years in the book, and she gets to live her life.”

“That’s sweet.” Santana leans into Brittany, thinking that either one of them would do the same. “But can you appeal the whole thing?”

“There’s nothing to appeal, risking the exposure of the entire Other Realm is right up there with World Domination, and I knew it. Not all of us managed to fall in love with pretty witches.” Brian winks at Santana, and Brittany grabs the book, threatening to slam it shut. “Hey, Hey! You know you I’m kidding!”

“Still don’t think it’s funny when you flirt with my wife, thanks.”

“Sorry Bri, you’ve got nothing on your sister. She’s kind of the greatest thing in the world.”

“Nah.” Brittany blushes. “That’s you, baby.”

“Jeeze, lucky anniversary and you’re still gushing all over each other like you used to when we were kids.”

“Obviously. This is what real love looks like.” Santana tells him.

“Well, I’m glad my kid’ll be around it. Seriously though, thank you guys for taking her in, it’ll be much better for her than being with Mom and Dad.”

“We promised we would if you ever needed us to.” Brittany says solemnly. “And we’ll have fun.”

“I know you will. I’ve gotta go though, there’s a Halloween party on page two-eleven, and just because I’m stuck in this hellhole doesn’t mean I’m not going to have fun. I’ll catch you tomorrow to talk to Shug?”

“You will.” Santana nods. “We have to get ready too. Happy Halloween.”

When they close the book, they set about to getting everything in order for Sugar’s arrival. It doesn’t take all that long for them to get ready, and by three o’clock, with Sugar’s new room in order, everything related to magic put away, and Kurt warned that he better keep his mouth shut until morning, like he always is when Sugar is around, Brittany and Santana skip the linen closet portal to Brittany’s mom’s house, and take the barely used car. When Brittany drives anything but a broom—or its more contemporary counterpart, the vacuum cleaner—Santana is a nervous wreck, and she holds under the seat for dear life, her whole body whipping left and right with every turn, forward and back with every acceleration and deceleration. But miraculously, they survive, and Santana quickly yanks the keys out of Brittany’s hand in the driveway and assures her that she’ll be driving home with Sugar in the car. Brittany grumbles about it a little as they walk to the door, but by the time the door swings open, and Sugar stands on the other side, inexplicably dressed like a cartoon witch, Brittany is done complaining and grins wide.

“Hey Aunt B, Aunt Santana Banana!” Sugar intentionally uses the nickname because she knows they like it, and she quickly hugs them.

“What’s with the outfit, kiddo?” Brittany asks, taking in the fact that they’re keeping this girl.

“Uh, Aunt B, it’s Halloween? I know we have to do like…this family thing that I just learned that, like, no one does but us, but I figured if Grandma wouldn’t let me go to the Halloween Dance on the last night at my old school, I’d at least have fun at this lame thing. But Grandma is pissed for some reason, so…I don’t know.”

“She looks like she just tumbled out of your secret chest of clothes from 1714.” Santana whispers, making sure she’s quiet enough that Sugar can’t hear it, and Brittany flicks her ear. “Your grandma just likes us to dress up, Shug.”

“That’s the point. I am dressing up…just not how she wants me to. It totally sucks you know, my parents both get sent away for work of the same day with like…no notice, so now I’ve gotta switch schools and live with you guys, I mean, no offense, and Grandma’s acting more pissed about a costume than I am over that.”

“Maybe she’s scared of witches?” Brittany offers, trying to keep a straight face as she says it.

“Please, she practically is a witch. I mean, she has a black cat, and I swear, she talked to Pierce for like…an hour while she was watching TV the other day. Also, I still think it’s creepy that she named her cat after Grandpa. Not that I ever met him, but still.”

“Sugar, honey, we know everything that’s going on is a lot for you.” Santana pulls her in for another hug, this time one that is gentle and concerned. “And your grandmother can sometimes be a little…confusing, but we’re going to try and make this easy for you if we can.”

“We set up your room and everything.” Brittany adds. “And I know Santana’s just dying to take you to the mall. Maybe tomorrow, as a birthday gift?”

“Since I’m gonna have zero friends at my new school, I guess that would be kinda cool.” She softens a little. “You’re not the worst to have to live with, I guess. I do like you guys, and it’s only a few months, right?”

“Let’s…go tell Grandma we’re here.” Brittany quickly changes the subject, and keeps hold on Santana’s hand as she ushers Sugar inside.

The house is decorated in the Pierces’ most authentic decorations, just as Brittany likes it, and while Santana has Sugar distracted at the punch bowl, she makes her way over to the cat. Her father had been one of Kurt’s underlings—though Brittany is still certain he didn’t know totally what he was getting himself into—and as such, he’s been sentenced to a hundred years. He does fine in his new form, and actually quite enjoys it, but since he was sentenced before Sugar was born, she hasn’t gotten to know him yet. That might be what Brittany is most excited about, knowing that she’ll be sixteen. From the time she was a screaming baby, right through her tail pulling phase, her dad has been head over heels for his little Sugar, and it’ll be so nice to see them together so soon.

“Hey Dad.” Brittany whispers, leaning down to hug him and scratch his ears.

“Happy Halloween, Bee, and happy anniversary too. The big three-one-three, isn’t it?” Pierce stretches his paws out in front of him and cocks his head. “You sure coulda skipped this one this year, took Santana on a romantic getaway somewhere. Your mother would’ve understood.”

“We were going to have dinner on Venus and show up late, but…with the Sugar thing…it was better we skipped it.”

“I know your brother got himself into some mess, falling in love with Caroline and breaking all the rules, but…that Sugar sure is worth it. You’re sure you’re okay with this though, Brittany? I know you chose—”

“It’s different, Dad, we’re good with this. Santana is actually excited, and so am I. I can’t wait tI see her first levitation, of to see her face when she finds out you’re really her grandpa. She thinks Mom’s insane talking to you all the time.”

“Yeasty!” Brittany hears her mother call out, and Santana laugh off her embarrassment over the time she worked in an army bakery during the Civil War, and fell in a vat of dough so big that even magic couldn’t get her out for two hours.

“Why do you always call her that, Grandma?” Sugar asks, rolling her eyes a little.

“Chronic yeast infections.” Whitney says flippantly, and Santana’s face continues to flame.

“That’s not—”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, honey.” Whitney cuts her off, taking Sugar’s hat from her head and glaring at it. “Change, now.”

“But Grandma!” Sugar whines, trying to get her hat back from the much taller woman. “What about the trick or treaters?”

“Oh, this house is sealed off to that nonsense.”

“What does that even mean?” Sugar huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It means Pierce will eat them.” Whitney retorts, and Pierce lets out a loud meow, flicking Whitney’s leg with his tail. “Go, before company gets here.”

“Fiiiiine.” Sugar groans, dramatically making her way to the stairs. Whitney doesn’t take her eyes off of her until she’s up in the bedroom at the top, and then she turns to Brittany and Santana.

“I’m not trying to be difficult, I know she’s having a rough time. I just can’t have our entire family showing up to her in that costume. Your brother is already a big enough scandal, and I want her to be sheltered from it.”

Brittany and Santana share a look at Whitney’s words, and Santana nods, “We do get it. And it’ll all be easier in the morning when she understands.”

“I wonder what it’s like to find out you have magic.” Brittany wonders, looking off dreamily. “We always did, Santana’s sister’s kids are full witch, I feel like…she’s going to be beside herself with excitement tomorrow. Santana, babe, we’re going to teach her the apple spell first, right?”

“A is for apple, seems like as good a place as any to start. And speaking of Apples—”

“Still against the iPhone.” Brittany shakes her head, and a bright camera flashbulb goes off, neatly blinding them both.

‘Sorry, just capturing your first little parenting spat.” Whitney chuckles, and Brittany rolls her eyes.

“Not a spat, I just hate technology and don’t think any of us need cellphones. But if Santana is really set on it, it’s fine. We don’t fight, Ma. We bicker sometimes, yeah, but we’re not gonna be like…those TV families where everyone hates each other all the time. We’re not that couple.”

“Bee, I was just teasing you. I know how much you love each other. Now get in, you both look really pretty tonight, and this’ll be a nice picture to commemorate your lucky anniversary.”

“C’mere, baby.” Brittany opens her arms, and Santana fits nicely into them, looking up at Brittany with the same adoring eyes she gave her on the day she snuck in and freed six of them from Judge Stoughton’s jail cell. Like she’s the sun, Brittany always thinks, though she feels the same way in reverse, Santana as her bright, beautiful blood moon. “I kept meaning to tell you in the car how beautiful you looked, but then you’d shriek about a stop sign.”

“I hate being the passenger on these mortal contraptions, you know that, Britt.”

“I know.” She kisses her slowly, ignoring the flashbulbs behind them. “You hated being in my buggy and on my sled, even though I’m kind of safe.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s the damn car. Have you seen the statistics on car accidents? Speaking of, we are not getting Sugar a car.”

“Oh, I totally agree with you on that. She can take the bus to school, better than me, walking uphill with no shoes in the snow.”

“You always had shoes.” Whitney cackles, putting the camera down. “And you got that story from me. Oh, just look at you two, you’re going to be just fine.”

“I didn’t know we ever weren’t going to be fine, Ma?” Brittany wrinkles her nose. “I think we’ve been more than fine for more than three centuries.”

“I mean at this guardian thing.” She chuffs. “And just so you both know, Sugar already has an iPhone. What century are you living in? Even I have one.”

“Brittany doesn’t. She still has that Nokia thing, I couldn’t even kill it with magic.”

“Meanwhile, how many times have I caught you cursing and pointing at your broken iPhone screen?” Brittany teases, tickling under Santana’s ribs and making her giggle out loud. “Anyway, Mom, maybe we should get her another costume, let her have one last mortal Halloween, before we turn her life upside down in the morning.”

“It’s your call, Brittany. When you leave here tonight, I get to go back to just being Grandma. But not that stereotype of a witch nonsense.”

“Unicorn?”

“Aww, Britt, she’d be cute as a unicorn.” Santana coos, almost as if she’s talking about infant Sugar, rather than her teenage self. Then she twitches her finger, and a unicorn onesie appears on the couch with a bow wrapped around it.

“That was fast.” Brittany laughs, picking it up just as Sugar stalks back down the stairs in ripped jeans and a cutoff shirt that make Whitney’s eyebrows lift. “Sugar, Aunt Santana and I got you a gift for Halloween.”

“Did you know other people don’t get gifts for Halloween?” She scrunches her face up, in a way that looks very much like Brittany. “Weird, and also totally lame.”

“Well, I guess you’re lucky then.” Santana nudges Brittany’s side as she hands over the costume. “Since your grandmother is afraid of witches.”

“I’m not—” Whitney starts, but then cuts herself off. “You’re right, I am…for the next six hours.”

“She’s so weird.” Sugar whispers between Brittany and Santana, who hold back their laughs. “You got me another costume? How’d you even know that I A. love unicorns, and B. would get in trouble by Grandma?”

“She raised me, I just assume everyone is always in trouble.”

“Is this acceptable for me to wear to dinner, Grandma?” Sugar turns to Whitney, holding the onesie up against her body, and grinning widely.

“I’d prefer a dress.” She says, and Sugar’s face falls before she finishes. “But why not? Just this year though.”

“Thank you! Finally, something normal around here!” Sugar bolts back up the stairs, wiggling like a little girl as she does.

Dinner goes off without a hitch…mostly, though Sugar is suspicious of the fixation of every member of the family with Pierce the cat. After dessert is finished, Brittany and Santana help Sugar pack all of her earthly belongings into the trunk of the car, and Whitney, holding Pierce, kisses her goodbye and wishes her a happy Halloween. Santana drives home, panicking the entire way, and when they pull up in front of the house, she silently curses Kurt as lightning strikes in the attic window, letting her know he was up to no good.

Sugar is still in her unicorn costume while they unload her things, though once she’s unloaded, she tells her aunts that she’s tired, and she retires to her new bedroom. Left alone, Brittany kisses Santana on the stairs, and just stands there, holding her hands. Even after so many years married, they still have these moments sometimes, where they just get lost in each other, and Santana rests her head on Brittany’s shoulder, relaxing as she wraps her arms around her waist.

“We could still sneak off to Venus for drinks tonight, if you wanted to.” Brittany offers, rubbing Santana’s lower back with long fingers. “I feel bad that I didn’t get to take you out.”

“I didn’t get to take you out either, to be fair. And really, it’s okay. It’s after eleven, and think I’d rather stay home tonight with you. I think we’re too old to go zipping off to other planets for drinks, when we’ve got perfectly good wine in the fridge.”

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” Brittany begins to sing, making Santana laugh. “I know, you hate that song. How about this one? Every little thing she does is magic, everything she do just turns me on. Even though my life before was tragic, now I know my love for her goes on.”

“If I didn’t know about the raging crush you had on me before you saved my life, I’d tell you that song made me sad. But, since we’ve got a happy ending, I’m happy hearing you sing it. Should we take our wine to the bedroom?”

“Like I’d ever say no to that. How quiet can you be?”

“Quieter than I was when we used to have sex in your parents’ hayloft?”

“Should I get out my old pantaloons for you to shove in your mouth?”

“Oh my God.” Santana laughs out loud, eyes sparkling and head shaking. “I totally forgot about that. I’ve gotta say, babe, as much as I love you in those tiny panties you wear now, you were really sexy when you used to strip down out of your petticoats and stand there in those pantaloons with your arms crossed. Kind of my favorite.”

“Well, if that’s your favorite me era, my favorite you era was the 1940s. I’m sorry, that nurse uniform? Can we maybe pull that back out?”

“Are we role playing as ourselves from the past? Because…I’m not totally opposed to that. Can we get some of that pig’s blood now?”

“I promise, first thing in the morning, I’m on it.”

Santana goes to the kitchen to get the wine, while Brittany goes upstairs, and quickly zaps through four sets of lingerie. Once she’s satisfied in black, keeping with the Halloween theme, she sits down on the beg, crossing her legs and putting on her most seductive smirk. When Santana comes in, she nearly drops the bottle of wine, and sputters, forcing Brittany to bite back a laugh.

“No fair. You can’t look like this when I’m in a dress I picked out for your grandma.” Santana groans, setting down the bottle.

“You’ve got fingers.”

“Wanky.” Santana waggles her eyebrows, but takes a cue from Brittany, and points at herself, changing into orange satin panties to contrast Brittany’s black.

"Can I put on Monster Mash?” Brittany asks, smirking, and Santana shakes her head, giggling.

“Babe, that’s the least sexy song in the entire world.”

“But it’s our song!”

“Our song is I Feel the Earth Move. Monster Mash is the song we one-time had sex to after we snuck out of your grandma’s Halloween party like we were seventeen.”

“Still, it’s sentimental!”

To keep her from going on about Monster Mash, Santana straddles Brittany’s lap, and kisses up the column of her neck, making Brittany moan as she does. Santana can’t decide if she wants Brittany in the lingerie or out of it, but before she can make a decision, Brittany has her on her back. Not arguing, Santana wraps her legs around Brittany’s waist, and pushes up into her. They make out like that for a long time, Santana feeling the dampness between her legs grow, but just as she’s about to unhood Brittany’s bra and challenge her for dominance, there’s a scream, and she bucks her head up, smashing into Brittany’s nose.

“Ow! Fuck!” Brittany holds her hand to her face as blood begins to flow from her nose, and a loud shrieking meow comes from outside the door.

“Britt, I’m so sorry!” Santana nearly starts to cry, seeing the blood beteen Brittany’s fingers.

“Aunt Britt! Aunt Santana!” Sugar screams, banging on the door. “Help!”

“We’re coming!” Santana calls back, quickly zapping both herself and Brittany into the most conservative pajamas they own, and grabbing tissues for Brittany’s face. “Fuck, Britt, it’s after midnight.”

“Shit. Shit. Shit. I can’t stop the blood, just, like, get me a sock or something.” Brittany groans, as Sugar begins to knock frantically at the door.

“What did you do to my bed?” She shrieks. “Why was I floating?”

Once Brittany has one of her old tube socks held against her nose, Santana struggles to pull the door open, not used to doing it manually, and Sugar stands on the other side. Tears stream down her face, and Kurt rubs at her leg, attempting to placate her. While Brittany continues to try and stop her bloody nose, Santana goes to hug Sugar, who pushes her away.

“Don’t touch me! What kind of sick Halloween joke is that? How did you do it? Why would you rig my bed on my first night here? I want to go back to my parents!”

“Sugar, honey, we didn’t rig your bed. It’s time we have a little bit of a talk.”

“What are you talking about? I thought you guys were cool, but I don’t want to talk to you in the middle of the night after you did that to me!”

“I promise, Sugar—” Brittany starts, continuing to apply pressure to her face. “I might mess around with your dad, but we wouldn’t pull a prank on you, especially not tonight. How about we have some wine—”

“She can’t have wine, Britt.” Santana gently corrects.

“Right…drinking ages, sorry, I always forget that’s a thing.” She shakes her head. “Tea. Let me make tea, and we’ll explain everything.”

Though Sugar attempts to argue with Brittany’s request, she slumps over, and follows them down the stairs. While Brittany makes tea, and Santana gets out a box of cookies, Sugar eyes them warily, and Kurt hops up on the table, letting her pet him. Once they’re finally all seated, and Brittany’s nose has mostly stopped bleeding, she and Santana share a glance, attempting to make sense of how to start.

“Happy Birthday!” Brittany says finally. “You’re sixteen today, Shug.”

“I…what? Seriously Aunt Britt?”

“It’s relevant to the story, sweetheart.” Santana promises, though she’s not sure she’s any good at this whole thing.

“Your father isn’t on a business trip.” Brittany blurts, and Santana realizes that maybe Brittany isn’t any better. “God, sorry, look, I’m just going to spring this all on you, and then we’ll talk it out. Your father is a warlock.”

“Ha. Ha. Funny. And my mom’s a vampiress, right?” Sugar wipes her eyes, looking grimly at Brittany, and begins to stand up. “I’m done with this prank. I’m calling Grandma.”

“It’s not a prank, Sugar. Your father is a warlock, and me, Aunt Britt, your grandmother, we’re all witches. And you’re a witch too.”

“Right, because of before? Seriously, does Grandma have you punishing me for that stupid costume? Because this isn’t funny!”

“They’re not trying to be funny.” Kurt says from the center of the table, and Sugar screams again, shooing the cat away from her and covering her face.

“Sugar, let’s start over. Your father lives in our magic book.” Brittany tells her, and Santana shakes her head, covering her face much like Sugar just did. “Wait, give me one more try. Okay. Woo. Your father is a witch, and your mother is a mortal. As a result, you are a witch, but because you’re also half-mortal, your powers didn’t develop until your sixteenth birthday. What happened tonight was your first levitation. Because it’s kind of a little bit against the rules for witches to marry mortals…I don’t know, some liability stuff or something, your father got in a lot of trouble, and that’s why you were sent to live with us.”

“No, really, how long did it take you guys to come up with this? Because it’s not even a funny joke!”

“It’s not a joke, Sugar, look.” Santana points to herself, ending up in a unicorn costume of her own, then doing the same to Brittany. “Less scary if we’re unicorns?”

“Oh my God.” Sugar gasps. “Oh my God, oh my God. Oh my God.”

“Cool, right?” Brittany raises her eyebrows hopefully, but Sugar just shakes her head. Trying to figure out what to do, Brittany holds up a vase. “Look, give your magic a try. Point right here at this, and picture turning it into an apple.”

“Not cool!” Sugar gasps. “No! I’m already going to be a freak enough staring a new school right in the middle of junior year, and now you’re trying to tell me I’m a witch? I don’t want to be, take the powers back!”

“We can’t do that, honey. They’re in you, just like they’re in us. We’ve been doing this for almost three-hundred-fifty years, and sometimes it sucks, but mostly it’s pretty great.” Santana tells her, turning the vase into an apple, then plucking it from Brittany’s hand and taking a bite. “Great.”

“You’re really not kidding, are you?”

“We’re not kidding.” Santana tries to squeeze Sugar’s hand again.

“I…like…I’m not sure what to even do.”

“I was born in the Other Realm, which is basically like, an entire other universe with just witches and warlocks.” Brittany begins, catching Santana’s nod. “We moved to Salem when I was twelve, because of your grandfather’s job. Let’s just say, the late sixteenth century was not the time to be a witch in America.”

“Okay, so now are you just telling me things to freak me out? Because…Aunt B, trust me, I already am.”

“I’m not. I’m just telling you it to make the point that being a witch in this realm was a total adjustment for me. I know it’s not the same, but I’ve managed to get through over three centuries of hiding my powers, I promise you, we’ll help you survive high school.”

“Did they even have high school when you were sixteen?”

“Well…no, not for girls. But we did have witch trials, so…”

“Britt, honey.” Santana shakes her head, figuring this is not the best time to bring that up. “Sugar, remember how your grandma was talking about the house being sealed to trick-or-treaters tonight?”

“I guess? I mean, she talks a lot, so I tune out half the stuff she says.”

“Okay, so basically, what I’m saying is that there are tons of protections that’ll keep you safe, and the reason you’re with us, is because we’re going to help you learn how to control your magic, and go through high school pretty normally.” Santana promises. “And we’re going to have fun!”

“Yeah, sounds like a blast.” Sugar rolls her eyes. “Can’t I just use this magic, or whatever, to turn back time to before you told me I was a witch? You could just like…tell me you rigged my dumb bed, and we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

“We can’t do that, honey.” Santana bites her lip, realizing this parenting thing is already so much harder than she expected, especially when she doesn’t know what to say to make things better.

"Worth a shot. So, I’m just going to be a witch now?”

“Technically you already were.” Brittany fidgets in her seat. “But yes, now that you’re sixteen, you have your magic, you just have to learn how to use it.”

“And somehow, the Witches Council, or, as I like to call it, Council of Dumb Decisions—” Kurt finally speaks again. “Decided these two get to keep all the misfits.”

“Shut up, Kurt.” Swatting him off the table, Santana sucks her teeth. “Don’t listen to him.”

“Is this like…I get a talking cat as a birthday gift or something?”

“Not a cat.” Kurt mewls from the floor, ego bruised by Santana’s swatting. “This is just a totally temporary situation.”

“It’s a long story.” Brittany shakes her head. “One that we’re not going into tonight.”

“God.” Sugar rubs her temples, shaking her head as she does. “Is anything going to be normal anymore?”

“Normal is relative.” Santana shrugs. “There are so many mortal things that we’re just…totally flabbergasted by, eventually, all of the witch stuff will feel perfectly ordinary to you.”

“Babe, you’re cute when you say flabbergasted.”

“Seriously though, Aunt Santana…that’s like…a really old word.”

“Hey, I’ve lived through a lot of words. I still forget if we’re supposed to say neat-o, or groovy, or swell…”

“Awesome…or sweet…or even just cool.” Sugar corrects her.

“So, Shug, do you want to try some magic tonight?” Brittany asks, still mooning at Santana.

“No, not really. I think I just…want to go to bed. There’s probably a possibility that this is a dream bought on by the bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups that I ate in the pantry at Grandma’s, so I’m going to like…just sleep that off, and I’m still a witch in the morning, then I’m probably going to have to accept it.”

“Do you want us to come up with you?” Santana offers.

“Will you?” Sugar’s voice is small and helpless, almost like she’s much younger than she really is, and both Santana and Brittany feel a sort of pang in their chests.

“Of course, honey. Come on.”

Sugar begins up the stairs, and they follow behind, Brittany’s hand on the small of Santana’s back. When they get into the bedroom, Kurt curls up on the trunk at the foot of the bed, and Sugar looks around, taking it all in. Nothing is upset in the room, it all looks the same as when she went to bed the first time, but everything is different, after what she learned. Hesitating for a moment, she takes a breath, and then she goes to Santana, wrapping her arms around her, and tucking her face into her shoulder. From behind, Brittany wraps her arms around both of them, and they hold Sugar like that until she makes the choice to breakaway herself, teary-eyed, and exhausted looking.

“It’s gonna be okay, kid.” Brittany tells her, stroking her hair one last time.

“Promise?”

“I do.” She nods, looking at the nod that comes from Santana.

When Sugar gets back into bed, Santana can’t help but tuck the blanket over her, though she knows she’ll likely levitate again, and be without it. Brittany turns out the lights for her, and they stand there just watching, half-expecting Sugar to open her eyes and roll them. But instead, she falls asleep, and Santana leans her head on Brittany’s shoulder, just having a little bit of a moment as they see their niece before them.

“Do you think we’re terrible at this?” Brittany asks, her voice the softest whisper.

“I don’t. I think it’s complicated and confusing for her right now, but she’s a teenager, so everything is complicated and confusing anyway. We’ll get the hang of dealing with it. And you know, I really think I like having her here.”

“I know it’s only been like…three hours, but I do too. You’re cute when you talk to her.”

“I’m cute always.” Santana rolls her tongue, and Brittany laughs, kissing her temple. “This anniversary was definitely different, but it was good different. The start of the next phase of our lives.”

“Two middle-aged witches and a teenager.”

“Call CBS, I think we have a series for them.”

“We both know Sugar will be the interesting one.” Brittany giggles, pulling Santana so she can kiss her lips. “May as well call it Sugar the Teenage Witch.”

“That’s cute, Britt.”

“Obviously, I did come up with it.”

“I love you.” Santana sighs, leading Brittany out of Sugar’s bedroom and into their own, using her finger to close the door behind you.

“I love you too. Now…no more interruptions.”

#brittana #halloween au #sugar the teenage witch

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