#kinda wild to me tbh how the prompt that should have been 1000% in my wheelhouse left me scrounging for something but here you are!

[theawkwardterrier]

Prototypes, Pekingese, and Other Things That Might Test Your Patience

Steggy Week 2k20, day 1 Prompt: Domestic Bliss

Summary: Sunday afternoon, Steve comes home from the movies and finds Peggy sitting on the sofa, having what seems to be a staring contest with the ugliest little dog he’s ever seen.

AO3 link here. Thanks to @steggyfanevents​ for organizing!

Sunday afternoon, Steve comes home from the movies and finds Peggy sitting on the sofa, having what seems to be a staring contest with the ugliest little dog he’s ever seen.

To be clear, the dog is the kind of ugly that probably means that its ancestors came over on the Mayflower and it is the result of centuries of very carefully considered and high-standard breeding which would put Steve’s own pedigree to shame. That said, the animal has been left with a flat face, watery eyes, sharp little teeth, minuscule legs, a coat that probably weighs more than its actual body, and an apparent tendency to snuffle even when at rest.

None of this makes a good first impression.

“Hello,” Steve says carefully, closing the door. “I thought you were finishing up the Beckworth operation today.”

“We did.” Peggy breaks her stare with the dog on the floor in front of her, sounding sour. “The first part went absolutely swimmingly. He was entirely willing to reveal the location of the safe while showing off for Gladys.” She gestures to a curly blonde wig lying on the side table. “The distraction was timed perfectly, and I was able to crack back in while he was gone and remove the prototype before calling for backup. We arrested him without incident. It was all as smooth as you like, textbook even, until I gave the prototype into the care of Fletcher in evidence collection - you’ve met him, ginger, entirely too tall? - and the man immediately dropped it on the floor only to have it eaten by this thing.” She glares again at the dog. “And now it has to be watched while we wait for the prototype to...pass, so it can be used as evidence and then handed over to Howard and his merry band for examination.”

“Ah.” Steve lowers himself into a chair, keeping a careful eye on the dog. It seems the type to be easily unsettled by simple things in its surroundings. “And it needs to be watched here? By us?”

“Well, after what happened today, I’m certainly not going to give more responsibility to Fletcher or any of the so-called experts in evidence collection.” They’ve barely finished staffing the various departments over at SHIELD, but Steve now suspects based on her tone that they might be going back to the drawing board in some places. “Of course, I wouldn’t trust Howard to take care of it himself, and Jarvis and Ana have been told by the adoption agency to be on the alert in the next few weeks—”

“Hey, that’s great!”

“It is, but of course it means that they should have as much time as possible to prepare themselves, which does not at all fit with taking responsibility for this. And, of course, I’m trying to build a more official reputation for the organization. As reliable as Jarvis has proven himself to be, I’d like us to try to appear slightly less homegrown than we have in the past, at least for the moment.”

Steve looks around himself at the living room of their home, then down at the dog, which has started to pace and sniff around itself. “So it’s up to us.”

“Yes. But I can’t imagine it will take long for the prototype to reappear, and then they will both be off our hands.”

Peggy comes home on Monday evening and, flipping through the mail on her way down the hall, nearly forgets to even look for the dog until she reaches the kitchen where Steve is washing dishes.

“You didn’t call,” she says, “so I assume that the prototype is still…”

“As far as I can tell,” Steve says, looking a little worn. “And I’m pretty familiar with what did come out of him today.”

“How was—” she tries, just as a high, incessant yapping starts from the front room.

“Sorry, he’s been looking out into the yard all day, going nuts over squirrels, birds, the mailman, anything. It’s a good thing there weren’t any Girl Scouts going door to door today,” Steve apologizes before calling tiredly toward the next room, “Knock it off, Eliot.” To Peggy’s surprise, the sound turns to a whining, nasal growl, which is at least softer.

“You gave it a name?” she asks, kissing him quickly as she leans to put the mail on the counter.

“He didn’t come with one that I could figure out, and I had to call him something.”

“And why decide on Eliot?”

Steve finishes drying off his hands, then points into the trash can where there’s a pile of shredded paper mixed in with the usual garbage.

“I guess the books looked at him funny because he started clawing at them pretty early on. I managed to move most of them up to higher shelves before he got them too bad, but he really did a number on Middlemarch. Moby-Dick, too, but he didn’t exactly seem like a Herman any more than he looked like a George. And I guess I could have called him Pepper, because he knocked that over too, but he’s the wrong color.”

Eliot comes, nails clicking, into the kitchen to bark at their feet. Peggy stares down on him. She sighs.

“Well, your instincts about Melville were spot on, at least,” she tells the dog, and takes her husband upstairs to show her gratitude for his forbearance.

When Peggy calls Tuesday morning and tells Steve that she’s scheduled a veterinary appointment for Eliot that afternoon, he groans aloud down the phone line.

“He’s actually finally quiet,” Steve says, watching from out of the corner of his eye as Eliot yawns, peers out the window, and seems to start dozing again. “If I take him out somewhere new…”

“Yes, but that place might be able to offer some guidance about when we might get to see the prototype again, and therefore when we might never have to see the dog again.”

Eliot shies away from anything particularly cold or shiny at the vet’s office in a way that Steve remembers from his own earliest medical experiences. He keeps up a constant, quiet growl; Steve considers it polite if anything based on the lowered volume, and luckily none of the staff seem overly concerned or insulted. Then again, they aren’t actually that helpful either: the vet cheerfully informs Steve that these things usually pass by themselves within a few days, and as long as Eliot is still able to eat, drink, and play normally there’s no reason to be concerned.

“You can come back in if something changes, and of course, if you’re really concerned, I can refer you to a colleague about an hour away who can do an x-ray of the little fella,” the vet offers, and then quotes a price for it that makes Steve laugh reflexively at what must be a joke. (It isn’t.)

The only helpful piece of advice comes at the end of the visit.

“Fur like that,” the vet says, going over to the door, “I’d expect you must be showing him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, dog shows, contests, like that.”

“You mean we can get him trimmed if we don’t care about all that?” Steve asks, relieved. He’s wearing his only pair of brown trousers today; even though Eliot sleeps downstairs, somehow strands of his long fur have migrated onto the black and gray pants which fill most of Steve's wardrobe.

The vet looks surprised. “Sure, though it’d be a shame. He’s a pretty fine specimen, after all.” He tilts his head, turning thoughtful. “Say, if you don’t really want him for that, I have a friend who’d love to get his hands on a purebred like this. Pay you nicely for it, too, what do you say?”

Steve looks over at Eliot. Despite the standoff the dog is having with a row of bottles on the doctor’s counter, he looks up at Steve with something very human and pleading and familiar in his eyes.

“No, thanks,” Steve finds himself saying, picking Eliot up in one arm. “I think we’ll hang onto him for now.”

Steve is as surprised as Peggy when she comes home Wednesday to find the dog lying politely at the foot of the armchair while Steve sketches. Eliot’s paws are forward, his face relaxed on the carpet between them. Steve had apparently been successful in his mission for the day; the nimbus of tawny fur is gone, trimmed to a more manageable - and, she’ll admit, attractive - level. She can actually see the dog’s eyes clearly now, blinking slow consideration, and his tail puffs up sweetly rather than billowing wildly outward.

“Well, this is quite the change of pace,” Peggy says, keeping her voice pitched low on instinct. Eliot turns to look over at her, but returns to staring peaceably through the window where the tree in the front yard shifts slowly in the breeze.

“Yeah,” Steve says, glancing down with...is that fondness? “He isn’t so bad once you get used to him. Or once he gets used to you. Melinda, the girl at the dog barbershop, said that he probably just needed to figure out how to handle a new place and new people, and that his breed can be a little bossy and vocal.” He pauses. “Also, she said he might have just been hot and annoyed from all that fur.”

“Well, he's at least sensible,” Peggy says, sitting down too. She knows she should go and change, should at least unpack her case, but there’s something comforting about sitting there, just listening to the scratch of Steve’s pencil, the constant sound of Eliot’s breathing. Without her thinking much about it, without even asking if there’s been any update on the prototype, she decides to stay a while with the two of them.

“He’s still not exactly the cutest little thing,” Bucky comments when he comes for a walk with Steve and Eliot on Thursday afternoon. Eliot doesn’t pay him any attention, sniffing busily at the sidewalk in front of himself as he trots along (although Steve knows that he’ll run out of energy pretty soon and slow to a crawl).

“Looks aren’t the only thing that’s important,” Steve points out, moving over so Mr. Sabitini and his grandsons can pass by. “Character plays a big role in things, and Eliot’s got plenty of that; he might be mouthy, but he's pretty intelligent, and considerate too. Yesterday he saw a boy drop his ice cream on the ground and started to nose it back to him.”

Bucky snorts. "Probably trying to sneak a few licks in for himself."

"I don't think so." Steve’s voice is firm, his glare hard.

Bucky stares, then shoves a hand through his hair. “Oh God,” he says. “You’re starting to identify with the mutt. You should have just called him Steve Junior.”

“What? No, I’m—” Steve starts, then shoves him over the curb into the street. “Shut your trap, Barnes.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” Bucky laughs, and he gets back onto the sidewalk only for Steve to shove him over again.

At dinner on Friday evening, Steve tells Peggy about how Eliot has started to just bark a polite little greeting to the squirrels on the lawn, as if welcoming them to the home to which he’s graciously allowed them access, and then asks how the Beckworth case is coming.

“The prosecutor is optimistic, which I consider an accomplishment for him - he’s usually quite doleful. Of course it would be better if we had the prototype in hand, but we have the schematics and the testimony from the assistant…”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, as she trails off.

"Mr. Beckworth is seemingly quite...upset that we have taken custody of his dog. I read the report from his latest interrogation and it was all he spoke about.”

Steve swallows a bite of chicken. “He’s probably pretty worried about his life’s work being trapped inside him.”

Peggy shakes her head. “I don’t think so. I think he’s actually concerned about him. Unless he’s playing some sort of game, I believe he truly loves the creature.”

“Well, he’s actually pretty easy to love,” Steve says. “He just shouldn’t have to put up with criminals.” When he palms and drops a piece of his chicken on the floor for Eliot to sweep up, he tries to think of it as more of a consolation than a bribe. Peggy sees and shakes her head; apparently she’s missed the distinction

Peggy calls to say that she’ll be working late on Saturday, so Steve tells Eliot, “Guess it’s just you and me for dinner tonight, fella.” He thinks of what Bucky or Peggy would say if they heard that, groans, and then shrugs, because they didn’t hear it so who cares?

Eliot whines as Steve goes upstairs and shuts the bedroom door, but the house is definitely furrier than is preferable even after the haircut and the establishment of a daily brushing regimen, and there are some lines they haven’t crossed, at least not yet, so Steve goes to bed alone.

He wakes up alone too, several hours later, wondering for a blink what pulled him from sleep. Then he hears Eliot’s growl from down in the kitchen followed by a yip, as if someone’s kicked him.

For a moment, as he makes his quick, silent way down the stairs, he gropes for his shield, something he hasn’t done in years. But before he can really miss its presence, he hears Peggy say, “I’ll thank you to unhand my dog,” in a way that he can tell means she’s aiming her gun.

“I don’t know who you think you are, lady,” says a voice, “but this is Ned Beckworth’s dog.”

“It was,” Peggy says, perfectly calmly. “But Mr. Beckworth is awaiting trial, as you soon will be as well, and now it’s my dog. Just as this is my house you’re standing in, and my husband coming up behind you, so put Eliot down, if you please.”

Looking from the doorway into the dimness, Steve can only see the backs of the two men who have broken in, moderately sized and wearing black. One of them has Eliot under his arm, a hand over his muzzle even as he tries to wriggle away. When the stranger doesn’t move, Steve says, “She really will shoot you if you don’t let the dog go. She’ll get your leg no problem, even if you’re trying to use him as a shield,” and Eliot is reluctantly and a bit too forcefully released. He takes a minute to regain his footing, nails scrabbling on the linoleum after being dropped to the ground, but before Steve can say a word, the dog has vomited copiously onto his captor’s shoe before skidding over to Peggy and pressing himself against her leg. The prototype, its light still blinking a calm blue, lies in the middle of the puddle.

“Excellent aim, Eliot,” she says dryly, without taking her eye off the now loudly disgusted housebreakers. “But your timing leaves quite a bit to be desired. Steve?”

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

Between the two of them, they pretty easily subdue their unwanted guests, and wrap up the prototype to deliver to headquarters in the morning. (Peggy says she’ll trust a retrieval team to take care of prisoner transport, but the prototype stays with her from this point forward. Steve, cleaning up the mess on the floor, says she is welcome to it.) Eliot obeys commands for “sit” and “quiet” for only a few seconds at a time before once again starting to dart distractingly around the room, barking. Still, once everyone else has left, he curls easily into Peggy’s lap and allows himself to be petted.

“He acquitted himself well,” she says as Eliot’s tail flips through the air, clearly pleased by her attention to his ears, “even if he isn’t exactly anyone’s picture of heroism.”

“Neither of us exactly was either,” says Steve, “so I think he’ll fit in fine.” He pauses. “Don’t tell Bucky I said that. He'll just start again about me over-identifying.”

She laughs. “I wouldn’t dream of it, even if he might have something of the right of it.”

Eliot barks in what seems to be agreement, but Steve knows for a fact that, if the dog could talk, he’d sell Steve out in a minute if offered a half decent steak.

As Sunday dawns, the three of them are still sitting in the living room, asleep together.

[safyresky]

Away With The Fae

Summary: Charlie is Stressed, and Jacqueline knows exactly what will help him wind down...a night out with the Legates! Join Charlie the day after as he tries to piece together what happened, and why he now has $1000 (in cash), new running shoes, and...red hair dye?

Based on a prompt I read on tumblr ages ago which I’ve put below:

Your OC just woke up in their living room with hair dye, new shoes, and a note with 1,000 cash taped to it. What happened? (from the which-oc-would tumblr: post/159733622744/your-oc-your-oc-just-woke-up-in-their-living) (I know charlie isn’t my OC, but my OCs would definitely be the cause of Charlie in this situation so HERE YOU GO)

Warnings: a sprinkling of f-bombs, several mentions of alcohol. Alcohol is a huge driving force in this fic tbh so if that squicks you, I’d recommend against reading this smile shot!

---

Away With The Fae

Charlie's head really hurt. Like, bad. He opened his eyes and groaned—the light coming in from the front window was Not Good. Tumbling off of the couch and tripping over a box, Charlie fought the blinds closed and lay face down on the floor, glad for the darkness.

He wondered why he was in his living room. He thought he would be up in his room after his night out, not in the living room. And at the Pole, not his place near campus. The events of the night were kind of fuzzy. What was the box he had tripped over?

He rolled back to the couch and picked it up. It was hair dye. A bright red colour. He felt his heart race as he sat up and quickly ripped open the box; his relief when he realized that it was still full. He grabbed a bit of his hair and pulled it down towards his face—yup, still brown. Phew. He needed a haircut badly.

He put the box down and sighed, when he noticed a new pair of shoes on his feet. Why did he have those? Why didn’t he take them off when he got in? He pulled them off, trying to recall when he bought them and frowned. He couldn’t remember where they were from. He put them down beside the hair dye, which was all in a neat pile at the side of the couch with a note.

A note?

He picked up the note and gasped as he flipped it over.

"Holy shit."

Taped to the note was a huge wad of cash. He counted it out: there was one thousand dollars. Ten whole Benjamin Franklins staring up at him.

"What the fuck?" He whispered, putting the cash down and reading the note.

Hey Charlie,

Sorry about the hangover. You passed out after deciding to dye your hair. Jacqueline said we should do it anyway, but I figured that maybe it would be better if you were awake and not drunker than Bacchus to make that decision. We tucked you in and put the dye beside you. Feel free to text me if you decide you want to do it! I know a thing or two about beauty ;)

With Love,

Dite

Well that explained most things. Except for the money. And the shoes. He read the note again, realizing there was still a fold to the page. He unfolded it fully, a second part written below the neat pink script.

Hey Charlie boy!

You had a wild night, let me tell you. Sorry about your shoes, though. I hope you like the pair we got for you, now that you’re (hopefully) sober enough to appreciate them! I got the other two to pitch in and after a quick visit to the bank, gave you what we had on us at the time. I hope that helps kick start that payback thing, but my offer still stands. I’ve got like. A LOT of pirate treasure left over. Anyway, I hope you feel at least a little less stressed now!

Jacqueline :)

"A wild night, huh?" Charlie voiced. He leant against the couch, frowning.

He didn’t remember any of it.

He sat back on the couch, frown deepening. He would probably recall the night eventually, right? He hadn't been that fucked up...though another glance at the letter told him that perhaps he had been.

Well, first thing was first: he had a headache to take care of. Maybe that would help jump start his memories from last night. After all, he could recall how he ended up going out with the Legates easily enough...

---

"It really sounds like you've got a lot on your plate there, Charlie boy."

"Gee, thanks Jacqueline."

"You need to cut that sass, dude," Jacqueline replied, frowning. She had come up North with her brother today for a quick visit, running into Charlie as she and Jack headed towards Santa's home to chat with him. It was nice to see Charlie at first, but then it wasn't so nice when she got a closer look at him. He looked like he'd been hit by an iceberg.

So being the kind person that she was, Jacqueline had asked what was up and, well, a lot was up. Mostly school stress, of course; this was why she and the other two had dipped after the whole shadows thing. They had been to schools multiple times and didn't need the stress it caused people in this century. Seriously, the amount of sprite sleeps she had needed second semester was wild.

"You’re right, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you. It's just…there's a lot going on."

"I know, you just told me. Girlfriend stuff, and school stuff, and Legate stuff. From one Legate to another, you should really chill out about the Legate stuff. Your Dad is the legendary figure like least at risk. He's very well protected—I would know."

"Right. The Dome. Ugh. I just want to finish this year and graduate and start living life, you know?"

"Totally. You know what you need?"

"A massage? A stress ball? A screaming pillow?"

"Do you mean like a pillow that you scream into, or a pillow that screams? I could get you a pillow that screams, though I don’t know why you would want that—"

"Jacqueline. It was the former."

"Oh. Good. You had me real concerned there, pal."

"Why on earth would I want a pillow that screams?!”

"I dunno, you’re the one who wanted it!”

“No I didn’t!”

Jacqueline frowned. “Anyway, what I was going to say was that you need to go out, have a drink or two, and just de-stress."

"I tried that already."

"But you didn’t try it Legate style," Jacqueline said, grinning in such a way that Charlie was immediately reminded of Jack and immediately concerned.

"What are you getting at?"

"Sometimes, Dite, Xander, and I go out and about and just kinda, you know, have some drinks and de-stress together."

"How is it different from what I would do with Cass and Brian and Derrick?"

"Because we're magical! We're headed out at eight tonight. We'll swing by here to pick you up. Sound good?"

Charlie had thought for a moment. It couldn’t hurt, he thought. What’s the worst that could happen while out with three super powerful magical people?

"You know what, yeah. Yeah! It does sound good. I'll see you then. What should I wear?"

"Casual dress. We usually go bar hopping in the Southern Province, so it'll be warm."

"Alright. Warm place, drinks with friends, some cool magical shenanigans…I'll be ready right at 8!"

"Cool! We'll see you then!" Jacqueline said, winking and disappearing.

---

That was how it had started, Charlie recalled clearly, as he poured himself a glass of water and helped himself to plain toast. He sat back down on the couch, wrapping the blanket around him again and eating the toast, despite his stomach's protesting. He wondered if they had any Gatorade left in the house, and headed back into the kitchen to grab some (if there was any) as well as two aspirins.

Lack of food and dehydration taken care of, he popped the aspirins and lay back down on the leather couch, the surface cool to his touch and the couch very soft (as it was a hand-me-down).

That should take care of this headache, he thought, closing his eyes as the night began to come back to him, piece by piece.

---

He knew he had felt some regret as he had realized what he had agreed to. But the truth was, studying had him stressed to the max and he had needed some unwind time—and time away from his housemates, of course. It was why he had been up at the Pole, after all.

So, telling himself that this was a good idea, and it would go alright, Charlie threw on a pair of shorts and a nice plain band shirt, and waited for his ride.

At 8 o'clock sharp when he heard the loud swish of large wings, felt a chill in the air, and remembered that really cool dream he had had the other night where he was James Bond, he realized that his ride had arrived.

"Hello, anyone home?" Xander called out.

"Yeah, just a sec!" Charlie shouted back.

"Jacqueline! Isn’t that rude?”

"It’s not like they lock the doors here at the Pole,” the sprite replied, sliding into the kitchen. "What up Charlie boy?"

"Why do you keep calling me that?" He asked, eyes focused on the note he was writing for Dad and Carol.

"I like the sound of it,” she said.

Charlie briefly looked up, skeptical.

“Okay, fine! You got me. I have not yet worked out a good nickname for you. Or at least, one that you would find nice. That’s all I’ve got at the moment," she finished with a sheepish shrug.

Charlie side-eyed Jacqueline, signing his note and leaving it on the table beside the cookies. He blinked briefly, because what he saw was something he was very not used to. Jacqueline was wearing shorts. Like, sorta short shorts. He had only ever seen her in shorts that weren't super short, mostly skirts, and more often than not her old fashioned looking princess dress. The shorts were light blue; she strode in casually, wearing a big hat and sunglasses, her white t-shirt loose and breezy.

"What?" she said, pulling her sunglasses down a bit and looking at Charlie, quizzically.

"It's just. It's weird seeing you in shorts. I'm used to the big princess dress, or, y'know, skirts."

"I do own pants, Charlie."

“My apologies, Charlie,” Xander said, entering the kitchen. “Jacqueline’s patience apparently needs work. And I thought it was just my place she barged in to all the time,” he teased.

“You guys always have the windows open, so I assumed that that meant you had a door open policy.” A pause. “Or rather, a window open policy.”

That got a laugh out of Xander. “I suppose I can’t argue with that—oof!”

“Charlie! Hello!” Xander was nearly blown over as Dite flew into the kitchen, immediately giving Charlie a very squishy, very tight hug.

“Hey Dite! Hi! I need to breath, just a friendly reminder.”

“Oh! Right! Sorry,” she said, with a very big smile. She landed, her wings giving one last flap before settling behind her.

"You’re good, Xander,” Jacqueline said, steadying the sandman.

“We definitely have a door open policy here as well,” Charlie said, catching his breath. “Dad’s off in the Workshop doing some post dinner rounds, and Carol is finishing some lesson plans up at the school. It’s just me. Well, and Buddy, but he’s been passed out for a while and Dad and Carol have magical monitors in case he wakes up. It took forever to get him to bed. He’s really chatty, so let’s hope he doesn't wake up before we leave.”

“Boom! Open door policy, therefore it’s NOT rude!” Jacqueline shouted, grinning victoriously.

“You have me there,” Xander said, hopping onto the kitchen table and sitting cross-legged. He was also dressed down, in a pair of shorts and a polo. "Ready to go, Charlie? We have a fun night planned. Once Jacqueline told us you were joining us, we did a little bit of restructuring."

"Oh geez, I didn’t mean to impose. That's sweet and all, but you really didn’t need to—"

"Nonsense!" Dite interrupted. "We bar hop usually, but knowing that you were coming I tailored it so that you could get the full experience, and not just bar hops. We're starting at our favourite little beachside bar for some singing and dancing, and then we’ll head to the Final Destination and most likely bar hop on the way there! Sometime between the two spots, shenanigans tend to ensue so we’ll see where the night takes us! Isn’t this exciting?!”

Dite was also dressed down tonight, too. Charlie didn’t see a single active weapon on her: just her charm bracelet. She wore short shorts as well, and a bright pink shirt with very poofy sleeves that sort of resembled her usual Roman wear, as Charlie called it. He had once called it a toga and Dite had given him quite the lecture on Ancient Roman and Greek fashion. He had learnt a lot that day, and had profusely apologised for low key calling Dite a prostitute. Which then had launched Dite into a whole other lecture about their worker rights and a whole slew of other issues surrounding the topic. It was a very full day of learning. A lot of learning. But way more engaging then his school lectures had been.

“That first stop is the one with the karaoke, right?” Xander asked.

“It is our favourite for a reason,” Dite replied, winking. “I probably should’ve been more specific. Whoops!”

“Dite, are you already forgetting the little things? We haven’t even started yet!” Jacqueline teased.

“Or have we?” Dite teased back with a wink.

“Oh my goddess, you absolute party animal, you pre-d?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but uh. This sounds like a really busy and full plan you guys have here. Are we going to be able to do it all?”

There was the briefest of silences, and then all three Legates burst into laughter. Jacqueline was doubled over. "Will we be able to do it all," she gasped, leaning on Dite's arm, the love goddess wiping away a tear.

"Of course we will!" Dite said, grinning.

"If you guys say so. It just sounds like a lot and you know what they say, Rome wasn't built in a day."

Dite’s face immediately grew serious. “Don’t get me started,” she said.

---

Gatorade in hand, a second one in the other hand for good measure, Charlie sat up on the couch, debating if he should trudge upstairs to his room or not. The house was silent, and weirdly clean—not that he’d complain. He assumed that everyone was out and about, seeing as how it had to be nearly three in the afternoon. It was Monday, after all, and the final week of the term. And although his Mondays were free with not a single class in sight, the others had their own stuff to do. Mondays were usually quiet. A relief, since he really did not want his housemates to see him like this. Why the heck had the Legates dropped him off here?!

His stomach flopped. I need to get horizontal, he thought, falling back onto the couch. He bundled tighter in the blanket, closing his eyes and hoping for sleep.

---

“—and that’s why Nero TOTALLY burnt down the city himself.”

“Can I source you in my essay?”

“I think it would depend on your prof and how credible they think “Source: Hedone, Goddess of Pleasure, who was there” would be,” Dite said with a giggle. “Oh! Have you eaten yet, Charlie?”

“Uh, like an hour or so ago I had a small dinner.”

“Oh! Good! That means you’re probably starving. Humans have to eat every three hours or so, correct?” Xander asked, brushing snowflakes off of him. Jacqueline had poofed them over to their very first stop for the night, resulting in a spattering of snowflakes all over the four Legates.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Excellent!” Dite said, with an excited clap. “Because guess what lives across the street from our first stop?”

“Uh…a restaurant?”

“Food AND drinks! Let’s motor,” Dite said, stirring up quite the breeze as she hovered over to the left most building.

“What about the karaoke place?”

“Can’t get decently drunk on an empty stomach,” Jacqueline said, breezing in behind Dite, who had already run to the hostess.

“Come now Charlie, let’s go! This place will barbecue anything.”

“Anything?” Charlie asked.

“Anything!”

Sure enough, as they were seated and Charlie had his first drink, he discovered that yeah, they would barbecue anything. Even if it wasn’t edible, just for “funsies”, as their waiter said. They barbecued all sorts of foods, including ice cream, which Charlie and Jacqueline had an absolute riot over. Their bellies full and dessert on their brains, they all did a round of shots.

“To a good night!” Xander said.

The glasses clinked. They cheered. Four shot glasses slammed down onto the wooden table at the same time, a second round ordered.

That’s when the night really began.

---

Hand shaky, Charlie pulled the handle and flushed the toilet. He fell forwards onto the blanket with a soft thunk, drowned out by the rush of the toilet bowl draining and refilling.

The toast was a bad idea. He was absolutely fucked up today, he was realizing. The real question now was, had it been worth it?

He thought of the barbecued ice cream. Totally worth it, he thought.

I disagree, said his stomach, as Charlie found himself staring into the toilet bowl all over again.

---

By the time they finally made it to the beachside karaoke bar, Charlie was absolutely, without a doubt, whatever was between tipsy and drunk.

His recollections were fuzzy now, but he had decent memories of the night before, as he thought about it. It probably had to do with Crystal Springs being the home of the literal source of all magic. The other Legates seemed alright. Dite was definitely buzzed. Jacqueline was without a doubt at least tipsy. Xander seemed okay, though.

“Here we bar!” Xander said. “It’s our favourite are!”

“You mean here we are, it’s our favourite bar?” Jacqueline asked.

“That’s what I said,” Xander replied.

So Xander was also somewhere between tipsy and buzzed, Charlie had thought. He laughed.

“Why is this the favourite bar?” Charlie asked.

“I am so glad you asked!” Dite replied. “The best mixed drinks, the most pleasant atmosphere, it’s right beside the BEACH! AND! It has KARAOKE! WHO’S COMING WITH ME FIRST?” Dite asked. “JACQUELINE, THANKS FOR VOLUNTEERING!”

“I didn’t—”

But the protest was lost as Dite grabbed her hand and flew to the stage, Jacqueline dangling behind her. Charlie and Xander claimed some bar stools and ordered some drinks, watching the duo sing their hearts out, to much applause and singing along!

“Better buck up, Charlie boy! One of us is going to be next.”

“I can buck up alright,” Charlie said and, with the confidence only a drunk teen could have, stood up and yelled, “SHOW ME YOUR BELLY BUTTON, XANDER!”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Bartender! An tequila, please!”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Xander said. “Why do you need my belly button?” The sandman looked mortified, his hands unconsciously pulling his shirt down.

“Body shots, duuuh.”

“No thank you.”

The tequila appeared on the counter. “Suit yourself,” Charlie said, grabbing the tequila and pouring it into one of the empty shot glasses. He downed it, then a second one, then a third one.

“See? I BUCKED UP!”

“I am thoroughly disgusted and yet, oddly impressed.”

“Shanks!”

“Wou’re Yelcome! Wait. That didn’t sound right.” Xander looked perplexed.

“I need a HERO! I’m looking out for a HERO TIL THE END OF THE NIGHT! An’ she’s gotta be fast and she’s gotta be strong and she’s gotta be larger than li—woOP she got me!”

Jacqueline was laughing as Dite grabbed her from behind and swopped her around. Charlie squinted.

“She’s like a sack of potatoes to you, isn’t she?”

“Mmmmm not quite! More like an oddly cold body pillow? A small weighted blanket? No no no those are definitely heavier.”

“Dite is BUFF!” Jacqueline said. “And LARGER THAN LIFE!”

“Well I CAN be but then Charlie’d go insane.”

“Whaddaya mean? Demigods don’t make people go insane, my classics prof said so.”

“FIRST of all,” Dite began, putting Jacqueline down. “If it’s still Carson, he doesn’t know a thing about a thing, okay? SECONDLY, I’m a full goddess! A very minor one but godly on BOTH sides! SURE Mom was HUMAN when I was a FETUS but she’s ALSO A GODDESS now and BECAME one BEFORE I was born so THERE.”

“Oh my god, Dite, have you ever,” Charlie paused to laugh, “Have you ever looked at some dude you’re beating up. And like. And just frosting said this isn’t even my final form and then frosting gone all super sayan and made them go insane?” He was practically choking on laughter now, though something seemed...weird.

Dite frowned. “No, I don’t think so. But I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m messing somebody up!”

“You could mess me up and I’d thank you,” Jacqueline said. She held an orange drink with a little umbrella in her hand. She stared at it intently, the liquid becoming slushier. “Heh. Nice.”

“That makes no sense,” Xander said, looking up from a pyramid of empty shot glasses he had been building. “Why would you thank her for messing you up? I’d be very upset if someone messed me up.”

“Because she’s a pretty badass.”

There was a pause while Xander failed to understand.

“I’m more even confused now!”

“Xander, have some water,” Jacqueline replied. She squirmed out of Dite’s grip and grabbed a glass, magically filling it up with ice.

“There’s no glass in this water.”

“That sounds like a good thing,” Charlie replied.

“Xander I know a perfect song for your confused butt, let’s go,” Dite said, grabbing Xander and rushing off, the young man practically airborne with how fast she was going.

“My pyramid!” He shouted behind him, as the shot glasses fell.

Charlie tried to lurch forwards to stop them from falling and breaking, but only succeeded in causing a dizzy spell and falling off of his stool and into something cold.

“Good thing those are plastic,” Jacqueline said.

“Oh, you’re the something cold!”

She snickered. “I think you need some water too, ginger baby.”

“Ginger baby?”

“Cause Santa is like. A gingerbread man and you’re like. A tiny Santa. What’s the word, it’s my literal job—”

“Legate?”

“YEAH! THAT! Thanks, Charlie. Here’s some water.”

“No, YOU.”

“I’ll have you know this smoothie has none alcohol in it!”

“Still not water,” Charlie said, downing his. Mmm. Refreshing, he thought.

“I make ‘em that way,” Jacqueline replied, wiggling her fingers.

“Oh, I said that out loud?”

“Yeah buddy. Man, you need to get your sleet together.” She leant in close dramatically. “You’re next,” she said. Charlie had nearly paled before noticing her tilt her chin towards Dite and Xander, who were loudly singing along to Short Skirt, Long Jacket.

“That’s like. The least of my tinsel that needs to be put together. I am so frostbitten stressed out Jacquie.” That also sounded weird to him. Why did that sound weird?

“Excuse me bartender, could I get another orange smoothie thing?”

“Of course! Shall I put it on Mr. Frost’s tab?”

Jacqueline snickered. “Yes, absolutely! He’ll pick it up next time he’s in.”

The bartender nodded and brought the smoothie over asap. Jacqueline slid it towards Charlie. “Now dish, Charles.”

“That’s not my name.”

“Really? Your parents just. Named you Charlie?”

“Yeah? What’s so bad about that? I like my name, thank you very much!”

Jacqueline was suddenly very interested in her drink. “You were saying? About how stressed you were? Talk to me, Charlie.”

---

And he had gone OFF, Charlie remembered. He buried his head in his pillow, his comforter cocooned around him. He curled up in his bed, pretty sure that he had nothing left to throw up. The nausea was subsiding, for the most part. As was the haze over the night. He felt his cheeks getting red with how much he had told Jacqueline!

He had gone off about the workload he had this year, and the two reports he had due the same day as a take home exam. That had led into how he couldn’t find a spot to study on campus and he never had that problem back in community college, and how when he tried to study at home his housemates SOMEHOW managed to mess it up. And that had opened up a whole other bag of worms about chores not getting done and dishes being left around and the dog versus cat fight between Cass and Derrick. Which had led into him lamenting how much he missed Danielle, and how stressed he was that he barely had time to see her and how he was trying very hard to hide the fact that his Dad was fucking Santa Claus and then drunk Charlie had decided that then and there was a good time to differentiate the different ways you could say the word “fuck” and it was mortifying.

He recalled several smoothie things going down the hatch, and Dite and Xander popping back in before popping back out—some magibeans had cornered Xander and wanted to see the dream sand do its work and Dite had somehow found a dart and was watching one couple with interest and woah there, he said to himself. These thoughts were becoming incredibly run on.

“Alright Charlie, deep inhale…and hold…and exhale. Breath. Good. It’s fine! It’s really not that embarrassing and Jacqueline would have told me if she didn’t want to hear it…right?”

He closed his eyes, and his train of thought and recollections from last night began to blur together.

---

“Dude, I know that your dad isn’t frosting Santa Claus and that he is Santa and the frost was just added for flavour. I may be censored by magic, but I know my way around the f-word pal.”

“Gosh Jacqueline, I’m just so stressed and TIRED and like. ONE MORE SEMESTER and then I’m DONE and I can take up residency up North with Dad—oh dang. I’m gonna have to pay back my student loans!” Charlie made a very odd noise in his throat, that sounded like a scream that had screamed far too soon. “That’s so many monies!”

“Like, how much monies? I have a huge collection of pirate booty in my closet, do you want me to help you at all—”

Charlie’s hand shot up, and landed on Jacqueline’s entire face. “Sssshhhhh, It’s FINE! It’s my responsibility I gotta take it! And do it myself!”

“Alright, alright, chill out,” Jacqueline said, picking up his wrist and dropping his hand. “Look Charlie, you’re almost done! You’re so close! And your last semester is next right? Or do they do quarters…”

“’s semesters and ye, you’re right, but like. It's just a lot, you know? Do you know?”

“Charlie I may be old as sleet but I know, dude. I’ve been around, experienced stuff, whatever. Anyway, you got a lot going on. It frostbitten sucks pal. Next one’s on me, alright?”

“Oh kay, cool cool cool cool cool.”

“I GOT THEM!” Dite said, flying over to the pair and stirring up quite the breeze. “Look at them CUDDLE!” she nearly squealed with excitement. Sure enough, the couple from earlier was getting really cozy in the booth.

“Nice one, Dites.”

“Thank you, Charlie! It’s ma job,” she said, with a wink.

“A fruity one for the lady? Make it pink?” Jacqueline asked the bartender.

“Sure thing,” he said, zipping away. A pink smoothie arrived around the same time Xander did, dusting dream sand off of his pants.

“It really sticks to non-dream sand clothes,” he murmured. “Miss did I what?”

“I’ll catch you both up,” Jacqueline said gently.

Charlie was chewing his straw. He wasn’t paying attention to what Jacqueline was saying. He was too busy thinking about everything he had just told Jacqueline, and also wondering where Dite had gotten the dart from, and there was something…else brimming just below the surface that he didn’t quite understand. He ordered an old fashioned and was nearly halfway through it when a tap on his shoulder broke him out of his silent thoughts.

“Hey Charlie,” Dite said softly, smiling sweetly. “It’s your turn.”

“For what?”

“Karaoke of course! And since this is your first time out with us, I’ll let you pick the song,” she said, winking and leaning in close.

Charlie started laughing the moment the thought came into his head. “Do you know…fff…d’you know. What would be….fffhAhaHA…so god dang funny??” he broke down into a giggle fit.

“What would?”

He whispered it into Dite’s ear, laughing now. She grinned, wings fluttering. “Let’s go let’s do it RIGHT NOW—Jacqueline, you’re gonna LOVE this!”

And Charlie had been rushed away by the goddess, Xander and Jacquie sharing a look. Charlie had made sure to look directly at the pair as the song he had so carefully chosen rang out around the bar. A collective groan resounded. Jacqueline snorted, blue smoothie coming out of her nose. Xander brightened—quite literally.

“I song this love!” he shouted. “Good choice, Charlie!”

“WE’RE NO STRANGERS TO LOOOOOVE,” Charlie belted out. “YOU KNOW THE RULES AND SOO DO I!”

They had only just made it to the course when the bouncer came over. “NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWWWWN,” Charlie remembered singing as the large orc stopped at the base of the stage. He was confused, and kept singing, glancing over to the other two Legates. Jacqueline was doubled over, coughing and laughing; Xander was hitting her back.

“Can we at least finish the song?” Dite asked the orc.

“…alright, fine.”

“NEVER GONNA TELL A LIE, AND HURTT YOU!”

The song ended and the Orc waited for them by the stairs. He put a firm hand on each shoulder. “Our policy states that when the rick rolling starts, you’ve had too much. Great rendition though, one of the best I’ve heard. We’ll be seeing you Legates, yeah?” he said as they passed through the door.

“Of course!” Dite said. “See you next time, Fred!”

Fred the Orc nodded, popping back in and coming out with Xander and Jacqueline, who was still laughing.

“You frostbitten RICK ROLLED them! I’m dying that was hilarious!”

“I never understood that policy,” Xander said as he was placed down. “It’s a good song.”

“Xander do you know what a meme is?” Charlie asked.

“Pardon me?”

---

Charlie chuckled, curled up in his bed. That had been. Hilarious and he definitely didn’t regret that. Though it was a good policy for cutting people off, he thought. He couldn’t quite recall how he had explained the concept of a meme to Xander, but sometime between the start of his explanation and the end, they had made it to their final stop of the night.

---

At first, he wasn’t sure if it was his sight or just the way the place looked. But as they approached, Charlie realized it was, in fact, the way this club looked.

It was like nothing he had ever seen before. The building was surrounded by sand—as most things in the Southern Province were, Charlie was learning—and completely open concept. There wasn’t even a DOOR, it was just an archway with two burly nearly human looking people blocking it. He squinted. They kind of had wolfish features…oh! OH!

“Dude,” Charlie whispered to whoever was beside him. “Are those werewolf guards? Werewolves are REAL?!”

“Well yes, of course they’re real! They’re as real as you or me, Charlie. And nearly look just as human as us!”

Charlie did a triple take to see who was at his side. “Whaddabout your wings? That’s not very human looking.”

“Or is it?” Dite teased.

Charlie squinted, nearly crashing into one of the guards. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it kid. ID please?”

“Oh…uh…” Charlie pated his pockets before pulling out his wallet. “Here. I’m not from here but I swear my ID is real and not a fake.”

“Don’t worry about it, we see magibeans from all over, kid. Looks good, here you go. And here’s your glow bracelet—that’ll let you move in and out of the place freely. Enjoy!”

“And don’t forget the complimentary sunglasses if you folks are prone to eyestrain or seizures,” the other guard said, holding out four pairs of sunglasses.

Jacqueline and Dite pulled out their own. Xander grabbed a pair, thanking the guard, and passed one over to Charlie.

They walked in and Charlie had to lift his jaw from the floor. The music was loud, and there were magibeans everywhere from all over, just like the guard had said! There were the usual fairies and pixies, and an elf or two here and there, and a whole host of other beings! Two dragons were flying around above everyone, glow bracelets all over their wings and scales and legs, intertwining with each other to the beat of the music. The building didn’t have a roof, but it had several levels of dance floor, covered with magibeans. The structures were dark but the floors were flashing all sorts of colours. Lights on the walls moved about, in all sorts of colours, going in and out of each other and shining throughout the different parts of the club.

Charlie threw on his shades, glad Xander had grabbed them for him. “Guys I am losing my MIND-O!”

“I just gave you happening, that should NOT be sunglasses!”

“No like not literally! I’m just. This really is tons of fun and so different and colourful and the breeze through the building? That’s excellent! This is excellent! Thank you so, soo much guys I am APPRECIATE!”

“You’re welcome Charlie! We’re so happy to have you with us tonight!” Dite said, her wings fluttering happily. She squished her hands together, the biggest grin on her face.

“What did I tell ya, Charlie boy-o? Legate style,” Jacqueline said with a silly little shoulder shimmy.

“This place needs some DREAM SAND,” Xander shouted, and suddenly the place was covered in golden sand, revealing the structure to be not as dark as Charlie had initially thought, and a little bit on the rocky side of things. The dream sand wove through the crowds, taking on different shapes and forms as each dancer touched it. It glinted in the lights, leaving the place hazy. Cheers erupted all around. “What are we waiting for, Legates? Shall we?”

Time blurred together as Charlie danced his butt off. Drink stations were all over the place, people moving freely in and out to enjoy the sand and the water just outside. The breeze running through the place took the edge off of the heat, and offered a nice respite when Charlie had tuckered himself out from dancing. He wandered to one of the open archways, enjoying the view. The moon was up in the sky, shining brightly down on the ocean. The water glinted, reflecting all of the stars in the sky, the icebergs in the distance tall shadows floating across the backdrop.

“Now that is a view I could get used to.”

“The icebergs really make it,” Jacqueline added, joining Charlie. She leaned on the other side of the archway, sipping a tall cold glass of something clear (Charlie was unsure if it was water or more alcohol).

“Dude, how are we not like DEAD right now? We have had. Many alcohols. I mean you guys are all magic so like, you don’t die of alcohol? But how am I not dead. Of alcohol.”

“Well, for starters don’t be so down on yourself. You’re a magihuman, after all. A human who’s magical, that is. So that definitely plays a part. They've also been giving you water all night. They're really good about that here, since it tends to be the final destination for most of the party goers—hence the name! The Final Destination! Plus, the mist from the springs gets EVERYWHERE and since the source of magic is here, that is, in the springs, and the water is all over the place, I think it helps curb the copious amounts we drink? I’ll definitely sleep more than four hours tonight let me tell you, and I’m sure this is going to knock out Xander.”

“Like the time with the coffee!”

“Yeah! That was funny, right into the tray—”

“The mashed potatoes went ALL OVER JACOB!”

“It’s what he deserved,” Jacqueline added, as Charlie laughed. “Anyway! Xander may be the Sandman who never sleeps, but he can sleep and will after this. He’ll make his old man proud with the amount of snoring he’ll be doing tomorrow, that’s for sure.”

“Heh. Nice.” Charlie drank more drink. Water good he thought.

“Want me to top you off?” Jacqueline said, wiggling her fingers. Ice cubes appeared in the cup.

“Thanks,” Charlie said, scanning the beach as he slurped from the straw. The ice melted FAST here. He scanned past the people standing in the waves gently lapping the shore, the handful of younger fae who may or may not have been skinny dipping, some outside dancers, a group of witches playing volleyball, a huge group of people surrounding a path of coals—wait, what?

"Is that a—are they walking on FIRE?!" Charlie said, straw from his drink still in his mouth.

"Yeap," Jacqueline replied. "It's a big thing in the South. It's used for tons of stuff. Healing, team building, confidence building, rite of passage—I think they're doing it for entertainment right now," she finished, squinting. "Or team building—Charlie? Where are you going?"

He had already crossed the room and was at the archway entrance. "I'm gonna WALK ON THOSE COALS!"

"Wait a minute Charlie, wait a minute!"

He heard a scrape and felt a rush of cold air as Jacqueline caught up to him. "Are you sure about that? They're hot as heck."

"I'm POSITIVE."

"You're also not heat resistant?"

"Excuse me, sir! I'd like to do that walking thing," Charlie said, gesturing to the path of coals.

"Of course," the faun said, gesturing to the coals. "Have you done this before?"

"Nope," Charlie said, approaching the walkway.

"Let me give you some guidance then first—uh…excuse me? Hey, sir! Sir you forgot—"

Charlie had already begun walking onto the coals. "Look! I'm doing it! This is SICK!"

"Miss Frost, are his—?"

"Yes. They absolutely are. I'm so sorry, he's a bit uh…he's a magi-human."

"Ah," the faun replied, as if that explained it.

Jacqueline cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled. "CHARLIE! CHARLIE, YOUR SHOES!"

"WHAT ABOUT THEM?" he yelled back, stopping his walk and turning in place.

"THEY'RE STILL ON AND YOU’RE STANDING IN A FLAME!"

"Huh—oh! Oh, silver bells! Silver bells fruitcake silver bells!" He had booked it off to the side right then and there, the sand around them putting out the flames of his running shoes. A good thing, too—they were a bit on fire and he wasn't heat resistant, like Jacqueline had said. "YEET," he yelled, tossing the shoes far away once they were off of his feet. They hit the ground with a soft thunk.

"Oh, that's a nice breeze," Charlie said, as Jacqueline appeared beside him.

"Thanks, I'm my own walking AC unit." she winced. "I think you did a number on your shoes," she said, heading towards them.

"Nah! It's fine! The sand took care of it!"

"Guess again, buddy."

"NO, I'm Charlie, Buddy is my brother, you know tha—oh, silver bells! My shoes!"

Jacqueline had held them in her hands. They were pretty melted, and charred in a couple places. The shoelaces had burnt off.

"That fire walk was definitely lit by Aunt Summer if it did that to your shoes."

"Wait a second. What did I just say? Silver bells? What? No, that's not what I wanted to say. What the fruitcake? WAIT! I meant fruitcake, not fruitcake—wait." That’s what had sounded weird all night! But why was it happening? His brow furrowed as he tried to piece it all together.

"It's the source. We're not sure if it's the source of magic that doesn't like swearing, or the goddess herself, but either way magic censors us big time here. So instead of saying frostbite or sleet, you say frostbite, or sleet. Or, if you’re a Christmas magic person, silver bells and fruitcake, I suppose," Jacqueline shrugged, grinning cheekily.

"Huh."

"Oh! Oh, do you know what that means?" Jacqueline asked, excited now.

"I can't say the fruitcake word?"

"It means you are OFFICIALLY a MAGICAL PERSON!" Jacqueline said, giving him a very tight hug and managing to lift him a few inches off the ground. "HECK YEAH! YOU GET CENSORED NOW TOO!"

"Oh! Hugs!” Dite yelled, low flying towards them and hugging their hug. “What did I miss?" Dite asked, squishing the daylights out of them.

"Charlie can’t swear, so now he's definitely magic," Jacqueline said. Dite had dropped them and Charlie had, unfortunately, landed on his butt not very gracefully.

"My shoes died," he pouted.

"That's rough, buddy," Xander said, arriving on the scene now with his own drink. It was in a coconut.

"I'm Charlie, not Buddy."

"Need a hand there?" Xander offered.

"Thanks bro," Charlie replied, grabbing it and pulling himself up. With a lot more help from Xander than anticipated, he realized now.

“A full-on Legate! How exciting!” Dite said, clapping and hovering once more.

“I’m not as Legaty as you guys though,” Charlie said, laying down in the sand.

“I just helped you up why would you go back into the sand? It's not even dream sand just boring. Beach sand—”

“Xander, sweetie, he’s choosing to lay in the sand,” Dite said.

“Talk to us Charlie,” Jacqueline said, plopping down in the sand beside him, putting her arms under her head.

“It’s just. Like. You do the swooshy ice things, right? And Dite,” he said, as she lay down gently, her wings whooshing sand everywhere, “She even works when she doesn’t have to!”

“I just. Love love. So much.”

“If we’re going to lay down in the sand then at least let me make it comfortable,” Xander said, laying down in the sand with a thunk, palms down and fingers spread. His hands glowed, and the sand under them lit up and did, in fact, get surprisingly more comfortable.

“And then Xander does that! Just casually! You guys are all so much more legatey than me, you even LOOK legatey—”

“You look like your Dad too, y’know,” said Dite. “Just because you don’t have a big white beard doesn’t make you any less of a Legate.”

“You’re even censored now!” Jacqueline said.

“Zzzzzzz,” said Xander.

“Oh my god, he’s asleep,” Charlie said, distracted.

“So it begins,” Jacqueline said, Dite giggling.

“Should we like, wake him?”

“Nah,” Jacqueline replied. “Let’s just kick back and enjoy the stars.”

“Look! The milky way!”

“Maybe I’ll grow a beard,” Charlie said, snuggling into the sand.

“It might suit you. But you don’t need to look the part to be a Legate Charlie. I won’t be a small old grouch when I’m Cupid. And Jacqueline's gonna be a great Jack Frost! Which is more we can say about our current Jack Frost’s status, all things considered—no offense Jacquie!”

She snorted. “Please, I’m the first one in line when it comes to talking about how Jack half assed the job for a solid five hundred years.”

“We can say ass?”

“On occasion, yes!”

“And Charlie, you know, you’ve already done a lot as Santa’s Legate!”

“Yeah! Jacquie’s right! You helped us save the Legends from Erebus and Willow!”

“We never would’ve snuck in if we hadn’t done it Charlie style! And The elves won’t shut up about the things you helped them innovate when you were like, seven, dude! That’s impressive! That’s pre-Legate years, too! Before I was a Legate I mostly wreaked havoc and froze my Dad to the floor a lot.”

“He didn’t immediately melt the cold stuff?”

“I think he was humouring me.”

It was silent. Xander's snores permeated the air, the gentle lapping of the shore and far off beats from Final Destination the only things heard in the silence.

“A beard would suit you! But not the Santa beard just yet,” Dite began. “If you want to fast grow a beard, I know a guy. He has questionable methods and isn’t the greatest in matching materials to the person. Like. C'mon buddy, your son is GAY and he wants to GET WITH APOLLO, DON’T USE WAX FOR THE WINGS! DON’T!”

“Dite you never cease to amaze me,” Jacqueline said.

“Maybe I need some more red,” Charlie began.

“OH! I’VE GOT IT!” Dite said, shooting up.

“I’m awake! I was never sleeping! Sleep is a lie!” Xander said, shooting up.

“LET’S DYE YOUR HAIR RED!” Dite finished.

“YES!” Charlie said, shooting up as well.

“Oh my goddess I cannot WAIT to see how this backfires,” Jacqueline said, getting up and dusting sand off of her legs.

“It wouldn’t shoe to get Charlie new hurt, either,” Xander said, the sand coming off of him with a wave of his hand.

“Right! Getting Charlie new shoes! A very good idea!” Dite said.

“Is that not what I said?”

“You’re still doing the word switcheroo there, bud.”

“Ah. Apologies Charlie, didn’t mean to imply that we should give you more hurt!”

“I have enough as it is,” Charlie half-joked.

“You all need more water,” Jacqueline said. Before anyone could reply, she was running full speed into the water. “CANON BALL!”

“IT’S CHEATING IF YOU FLY UP FIRST!” Charlie shouted, grinning and running in behind her.

Dite laughed and flew straight up, dive bombing in and splashing the other two. Xander waded into the shallows and waited for the three of them to stop splashing around.

“When the three of you are done, shall we head to WUTSNESS?”

“What’s What’s-Ness?”

“WUTSNESS!” Dite corrected.

“It’s how you say the first letters of WTSNS. Which is short for Where The Sun Never Sets which is basically a cross between a non-magibean Wal-Mart and a Costco.”

“Like Wal-Mart, WTSNS has everything,” Xander explained. “The difference being that like Costco, the managers at WUTSNESS treat the magibeans working there like magibeans and pay them a liveable wage, make sure they aren’t overworked, and they have insurance and a very good union!”

“In that case,” Charlie said, shaking off like a dog once he was back on the shore. “TO WHAT’S NESS!”

“WUTSNESS,” everyone corrected.

“The letter U is bull-tinsel and I dunno why Crystal Springs and Canada BOTH use it so much. Fruitcake that letter in particular!”

---

That was the last clear memory Charlie had.

He woke up, groggy, everything else coming back in hazy patches.

WUTSNESS was bright, and big, and clean and tidy and staffed entirely by vampires for the night shift. Dite had tried really hard to talk him out of bright red hair dye. Jacqueline had disappeared while they contemplated hair dye and reappeared with several pairs of shoes, and Charlie had picked the nice dark blue ones that now sat at the front door.

Xander had bought a ton of snacks, and once Charlie picked hair dye and they had left the store, things got real gross real fast.

“That’s a lot of vomit,” he remembered Jacqueline saying.

“Let’s get him home,” Xander had said.

Charlie was 90% sure that Dite had carried him home all by herself, which did not surprise him. She was built, despite her soft appearance. Charlie had once watched her bench press Jacqueline, and had seen her use Xander and Jacqueline as dumbbells. She was impressive as fuck.

He grinned a bit. It was nice to swear again.

But what the heck had happened after that?

There was a knock on his door.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Cass. Mind if I come in?”

Charlie grunted. His door opened, and Cass came in.

“Is that a DOG?”

“Her name is chocolate,” Cass said. “She’s very friendly.”

Chocolate was a huge lab, and she immediately jumped onto Charlie’s bed. He had always been a dog person, and immediately pet the crap out of Chocolate, who enjoyed it immensely. The dog snuggled up against Charlie, happily lying down.

“Did I miss something?”

“I was getting up when the Legates appeared at the front door,” Cass said. “Hedone recognized me, thankfully, and the other two dropped their guard.”

“I got home that late?”

“It was just after six,” Cass said. “AM. I felt like something nutty was about to happen so I headed downstairs and poof! Three old friends and a completely drunk Charlie.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“It wasn’t too bad,” Cass said, sitting down on Charlie’s desk chair. “I asked why you were home, cause I had seen you staying at your Dad’s all week. According to Jacqueline, you insisted.”

“I dunno if I wanna hear the rest of this,” Charlie said, nuzzling the dog.

“I’ll stop then. I have to get Chocolate back to the shelter in a bit anyway, but I figured since Derrick wasn’t home, you’d appreciate doggo cuddles.”

“Oh my god, do I ever.” A pause. “I bet that she could win Derrick over.”

Cass laughed. “And he’ll find a cat that can win me over. Then we can have the best of both worlds, huh?”

There was something about that phrase, Charlie thought, before making a decision. “Actually, I think I do want to hear the rest.”

“If you insist!”

---

Cass had stopped at the stairs like a deer in headlights when a whirl of blue sparks and snowflakes had appeared just past the front door and turned into four whole people. She could tell from their auras who they were immediately: Charlie’s magical friends (you can’t hide that sort of thing from someone with sight). Jacqueline and Xander immediately called up projectiles when they saw her. Hedone—Dite, Cass corrected, (best use a goddess’s preferred name so as not to incur their wrath, her grandmother had said) immediately recognized her, and brightened.

“Hello Cass! You two can drop the balls,” she added.

“Pfft hahaha balls. That’s. That’s—” Charlie retched, putting his hand in front of his mouth.

“Here comes round four!” Jacquie shouted.

“Let’s get this recovery into man position!” Xander shouted. “To his bed!”

“NO! No just. Couch, please.” Charlie said, having stifled the vomit.

“Could you grab a bucket for us please, Cass?”

“Uh-yeah, sure.”

“Anyway, phrasing, Dite,” Charlie said, just before retching again. Cass had only just made it in time with the bucket, and thankfully, Charlie hadn’t missed. “You too Xander, watch your. Your phrasing. Man position in bed...heh. Gross!”

“Couldn't agree more,” said Xander.

Cass watched as a surprisingly yawny Xander carefully placed Charlie into recovery position.

“There we go. That should do it.”

“That was all SPIT! There is nothing left inside of my me, holy fuck, I wanna sleep!”

“I can help with that. Just stay put in that position...excellent! POOF!”

Golden sand billowed out from Xander’s palm, surrounding Charlie's head. He was out in moments, breathing deeply and thankfully, sleeping still.

“That should also keep him from moving out of the recovery position,” Xander said, slowly and carefully as if he had to think really hard about every word.

“Apparently I missed something?” Cass finally said.

“We took Charlie out for a night on the magic town,” Dite said. “We had fun! Charlie got a little—”

“A lot—”

“Drunk—”

“Absolutely frostbitten wasted—”

“BUT! He had fun! And I think he’s a lot less stressed right now.”

“His stress levels are down by about 70% I’d say, judging by how fast he fell asleep.” Xander yawned. “That couch looks mighty comfortable.”

“I think we need to get you home now too. Oh! Almost forgot! We have some stuff for Charlie. We’re just gonna leave it by the couch for him, so he sees it when he’s up,” Dite said, putting a neatly wrapped note and a box of hair dye—hair dye?! At the corner by Charlie’s feet.

“The conversion rate on a good quality piece of eight is CRAZY! I should deposit,” Jacqueline mussed, throwing a blanket on top of Charlie. “And we should still totally dye his hair.”

“Jacqueline he couldn’t possibly make a clear, cohesive, decision about it right now. He just laughed at me saying ‘drop the balls’. I think that speaks for itself, don’t you?”

“It’s a little funny,” Jacqueline said with a grin.

“I’ll make sure the guys don’t mess with it,” Cass said, having finally processed what she was seeing.

“Don’t mess with what?”

They turned to the stairs and froze, as Brian and Derrick were both making their way downstairs. Cass felt celestial magic settle around them. Dite must’ve cast a glamour on them.

Sure enough when Cass turned around, she was met with the very human trio that they had all initially met in first year: Amy, Alex, and Jackie. No frozen hair, no pointed ears, no wings and no glowing sandmen. Just three definitely human people, yup.

“Jackie! Amy! Alex! Hey dudes, what’s up!”

“We’re just heading out actually, Alex is crashing.”

“Big time but please don’t tell anybody I said that, I have a no-sleep reputation to keep up.”

“We all have nights like that dude,” Derrick said.

“Actually,” Jackie said, a current of ice in her voice. “I have a bone to pick with the lot of you. If you all have a moment?”

---

“She didn’t.”

“She DID! She went HAM on all of us for not doing the chores or pulling our weight and told Derrick and I that we should compromise on the cat and dog thing and you should have seen Brian and Derrick, they were absolutely gobsmacked. Brian actually did ALL the dishes!”

“All of them?!”

“Yeah! All of them!” Cass paused. “Jacqueline made a lot of good points. Sorry for not pulling my weight around here, and being so stubborn about the dog and cat thing. I cleaned the shower finally, and I’ll try to be quieter when you’re studying.”

“Oh. Well, thanks Cass. That means a lot! Apology accepted,” Charlie said, scratching the ears of the dog. “Hey Chocolate, can you go give Cass hugs from me? Go on! Hug her!”

Chocolate bounded off of the bed and ran to Cass, jumping up on her legs and licking her face.

“Alright alright cut it out! Those gross slobbery kisses make me really think Derrick has a point about cats.”

“Maybe you should tell him that?” Charlie said, sitting up in a blanket bundle now.

“Maybe. Anyway, I gotta go bring her back to the shelter.”

"She can live in my room! I’ll walk her and everything!”

Cass laughed. “We’ll have a house meeting first and discuss how everyone feels, and THEN maybe we can keep her.”

“Ou, so mature,” Charlie said.

Cass laughed. “Feel better, nerd.”

“Thanks, dork.”

Charlie pulled his blanket tighter around him. He sniffed. He smiled. His phone vibrated. It was somehow still in his pocket. He did a little shimmy and was able to grasp the case, pulling it out of his pocket. He loosened his hold on the blanket as he read the text

Hey love, I got a text from your friend Amy! She said that you weren’t feeling too great and taking a day off. I’m heading over now with snacks and your favourite Christmas films. Not Even God Could Stop Me rn so don’t you even try ;) Love you! See you soon!

Charlie grinned at the plethora of hearts and kissy faces and the one poop emoji that had snuck its way in.

I wouldn’t let him stop you. See ya soon! Love you too!

Jacqueline was right. He just needed to destress! He really had needed that night out and evidently, his friends had made sure of it. Xander had given him a good night’s rest, Jacqueline had whipped his housemates into shape, and Dite had made sure he got that sweet, sweet SO time in even after the three of them had also gotten magibean drunk last night and made sure to take very good care of him.

It was quite the balancing act, but Charlie was beginning to think he really would be able to have the best of both worlds.