Margo seeks out Tim, who is trying to put together some Ikea furniture, to discuss his relationship with Eliot and
his intentions.
⚠
Threats of harm, glossed over discussions of sex.
This place was starting to get more annoying than Fillory when it was full of fucking fairies and that was saying something. There had been an all too brief moment where it seemed like they might be fixed and then, oh, giant squirrels rampaged and she was two and a half feet tall again. Sure, she knew that this wouldn’t last more than seven days before they reset, but that didn’t make it less annoying to be half her size and unable to do anything she wanted to do. The worst part was that she couldn’t even drink because she had no idea how her compact body would handle it and she didn’t want to pass out drunk somewhere.
Disney had been fun, at least. She’d spent some time in the parks, had a hot threesome with Fen and her boytoy, and helped steal an entire IKEA. Of course, in the back of her mind, there was a niggling voice that was worried about Eliot and his new relationship. Tim was hot, obviously, and he seemed nice enough, but Margo had seen her best friend go through far too many heartaches in the time they’d known each other and she was concerned that he might be setting himself up for another one.
Margo also knew there was no point in trying to convince Eliot to maybe slow down because that wasn’t how he was wired. There was only one thing she could to potentially prevent an impending train wreck, so she toddled her ass up to Tim’s room and banged on his door.
The sudden banging on his door made Tim jump a little. He’d just been in the middle of setting up a couple of the things he’d bought -- erm, stolen -- from the IKEA and all of his focus had been on that. Because of course it was. Have you ever tried putting together furniture from that damn store?
Of course, being bigger meant that the Allen key in his hand felt smaller than it normally would have and therefore, his struggle was real. He sighed and tossed what he was doing aside in frustration before lumbering to his feet. He still wasn’t used to feeling so far away from the ground -- go figure eight inches could make such a huge difference.
When he opened the door, ducking his head to make sure he didn’t hit the frame, both of his eyebrows shot up a little in surprise. “Hi Margo,” he said, almost cautiously. He glanced behind her and then down the hall. Why had she banged so hard on his door? “Er, you all right?”
“I’m fine,” Margo said, tipping her head back so she could look up at Tim, who was clearly taller than usual which made this whole thing completely ridiculous. She supposed she could bite his knees if she felt the need to get violent. “We’re overdue for a conversation though and now seemed as good a time as any.”
The axes were still in her room since they were almost as tall as her and would have been a bitch to carry so far. Even without weapons and two and a half feet tall, Margo knew she could pull off intimidating.
She didn’t wait for an invitation, simply walked into his room and glanced at the furniture he was putting together as she walked over and climbed up on the couch.
When she walked past him and into the room, Tim took a step to the side and then closed the door behind her. Nothing about her demeanor surprised him, though he was maybe just a little nervous about having this talk. He could only assume the topic was regarding one person: Eliot.
“I’d offer you something to drink, but I haven’t gone to the kitchens to grab anything yet today, so…”
Clearing his throat quietly, he turned to follow her into the living room and settled on the floor where he’d been trying to put together a TV stand, though the project remained untouched. Instead he sat with his legs extended, his hands braced against the floor behind him so he could lean back against them, looking at her.
Margo studied him for almost a full minute, in silence, making him wait and hopefully driving up his anxiety a little since she would prefer to keep him off balance. It was far easier to suss out someone’s true intentions if they were nervous.
When she finally spoke, her voice was cheerful in a way that could be described as disturbing. “What are your intentions towards Eliot?” she asked.
It did make him a little nervous, admittedly. She said she’d wanted to have a conversation with him, but then all she did was sit there and look at him. Eyeing him. Studying him. It was honestly starting to creep him out a little, especially given her current stature -- it almost felt like a doll come to life was plotting his murder, in a way.
But the question seemed odd and Tim gave her a curious look. “My intentions?” He paused, brows furrowed. “I… thought they seemed obvious?” Because to him, it was. He liked Eliot. Sure, things were still really new between them considering, but Tim wasn’t exactly the sort to hide how he felt about someone and he liked to think he showed that he cared.
“You know what they say about assuming,” Margo said, that creepily cheerful tone still present. “I would like to know specifically what they are.” On the surface, this would sound like a completely jovial conversation. If Tim knew anything about Margo, he would know that it wasn’t. She just didn’t know how much Eliot may have said about her.
She folded her arms over her chest and waited for him to respond.
What he did know of Margo was what he’d learned on their quest in Fillory, and even then he’d been in such a horrible headspace that he couldn’t remember much of the experience. But he knew that her and Eliot were more or less attached at the hip sometimes. Beyond that, he hadn’t really inquired about their friendship, which now he was wondering if he should have.
Tim frowned a bit and pushed himself to sit up a bit more straight, though his shoulders slumped a little. “My intentions, I guess, are to be good to him? I mean, I like him a lot, Margo. And I know he’s been through some shit -- so have I -- and if we’re both stuck here, which we are, and like being with each other, which we do, then I want to make sure he’s happy. Or as happy as he can be given the circumstances.”
Wanting Eliot to be happy was a good start and Margo nodded thoughtfully as Tim spoke. “Eliot is a lot more fragile than he’ll admit,” she said. “And I’ve seen him get his heart broken many times in the past.” Every time, it broke a little piece of her heart because she loved her best friend and hated to see him in pain.
She wasn’t sure what Tim might know about Eliot’s past relationships and it wasn’t her place to share details about them which was why she kept her statements vague. “I consider it my duty as his best friend to do what I can to prevent it from happening again.”
Tim’s expression softened a little and he gave her a small, hopefully reassuring smile. “That’s what any best friend worth their salt ought to do.” He’d been there before; the overprotective big brother, in a sense, wanting to make sure the people he loved were protected from inevitable heartbreak.
Because there was always heartbreak, unless you were somehow lucky enough to find That Person, but even then… no relationship was perfect and Tim was well aware of that fact.
“He hasn’t told me much, but…” His voice trailed a little and he glanced off to the side for a moment. “When I was a ghost, I, um. I suppose this is bound to sound a little creepy, though Eliot seemed alright with it, but I didn’t have much to do so I spent a lot of my time following him around? Anyways, I saw how Quentin arriving affected him, so…”
Tim had a fairly decent idea of just how fragile Eliot was. And there had been no judgement on his part, even if he couldn’t say it at the time. But all he’d wanted to do was to be able to hold him.
Yes, it sounded creepy and Margo’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. The fact that he acknowledged it and implied that Eliot had been aware of his presence kept her from making a comment. Quentin’s arrival had done a number on all of them. Well, except Julia, since she didn’t know what was to come. “I think we all have a soft spot for Q,” she admitted, letting her tough facade drop for a brief moment. A moment that passed quickly.
“So here’s the thing,” Margo said, her tone conversational. “If you do anything deliberate that hurts Eliot in any way, I will hurt you worse. If this place makes you do something that hurts Eliot and you don’t make it up to him, you’ll wish you had. When you’re making Eliot-related decisions, ask yourself, W-W-M-D-T-M.” She smiled, wondering if he’d understand the acronym or if she’d have to explain it.
“He seems like a nice guy,” he remarked quietly. All he knew was that Quentin had died -- Eliot hadn’t really explained how, though based on the reaction to his arrival, he could only assume it had been tragic. Perhaps much like his own, or maybe not.
Tim could hardly imagine Jon or Martin having that sort of reaction to him being alive here.
That thought went out of his mind fairly quickly though when she started speaking again, her tone less gentle than it had been just a moment before. “Erm, to be fair, Margo, you don’t need to threaten me to make sure I treat him well. I promise, I have no ill intentions toward Eliot. I really do care about him and his well being.” He sighed then and leaned forward a little, pulling his longer legs underneath him to cross. “He’s a good man.”
“Eliot is the best man I know,” Margo said. Of course, she knew some spectacularly shitty men so that might not be saying a whole lot. “And he deserves the best. I felt like it was in our best interests to be on the same page.”
She’d prefer not to have to follow through on her threats because that would also upset Eliot, but if it came down to it, she wouldn’t hesitate for a moment.
Confident that she’d made herself clear, Margo switched gears, leaning back so she could relax on his sofa. “What was your favorite part of Disney?” she asked, no hint of anything besides friendliness in her voice now.
Tim nodded quietly, agreeing. “You say our but I think you mean my best interest,” he added with a chuckle. Though he really didn’t need Margo to make threats, it amused him somewhat that she felt compelled to. Eliot was lucky to have her.
“And he does deserve the best. I… don’t know if that’s me, honestly, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try, y’know?” He shrugged a little and gave her a smile.
With the threat of her kicking his arse out of the way for the time being, Tim shifted and laid down on his back, tucking his hands behind his head. “That’s a bit of a loaded question, innit? There was almost too much to do. Though I did book us a couple of nights at one of the resorts, so we at least got some time away to sleep in a proper bed.
Margo appreciated Tim’s honesty in saying that he didn’t know if he was the best for Eliot, but was planning to try to be. If he’d tried smooth talking her, she would be much more concerned about things. “Nice,” she said. “I spent a night in one of the hotels with Fen and Jaskier.” That was a fun night that she would remember fondly for a long time.
“It was also nice being able to buy some clothes that weren’t from Fillory,” she said. Rather than limiting herself to solely Disney branded gear, Margo had taken a trip off the property and hit up a nearby shopping mall for some staples.
Well, that got his curiosity. He snorted softly in amusement and flashed her a grin. “And how was that? Your night with them, I mean. Sounds like it might’ve been fun?”
Tim gestured a bit around the room — he’d clearly gone to somewhere other than just the Ikea for other things. Stuff that would make his private room feel more like a flat and less like a dorm room. “Target is a blessing. We don’t have them in London, though there are similar shops. Still! You can get everything. It’s very convenient and everything is so much cheaper in the States than it is in England.”
Bonus points for his reaction to her casual comment about a threesome. Eliot definitely needed someone who wasn’t uptight about sex so that was a check in the plus column. Margo grinned. “Oh, we all had a wonderful time,” she said. Honestly, she was still impressed that Jaskier hadn’t died or required hospitalization.
“Looks good,” she said after casting a glance around the room and taking in all the little details he’d added. “Jo and I ended up with an incredibly hot roommate. We’re considering stealing all his shirts so he has to walk around without one all the time.” Okay, they weren’t really, but now that she’d made the joke, it didn’t sound like a terrible idea.
There was a lot about Tim’s life before Derleth that most people didn’t know -- mainly because no one had really asked. He was a fairly open book, though if the subject of his brother Danny ever came up, he’d probably skirt that. Maybe. Probably. It was a touchy subject, to say the least, and truthfully was the beginning of the end where his previous life was concerned.
But anything regarding past relationships? His sexual identity? The fact that he was totally good with open relationships and polyamory? Eh, hit him with your best shot.
Tim smirked and even playfully rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure how your incredibly hot roommate will feel about that, but if it’s that Fandral guy, he’d probably walk around naked if you asked him to. I don’t think he knows the meaning of the word modesty.”
“I actually suspect we wouldn’t even have to ask,” Margo said with a laugh. She’d seen him at the party Julia and Kady threw and he didn’t seem to have any shame, something she absolutely appreciated. “Alas, our roommate is Bucky. Well, one of them. The other one is that weird kid with the mannequin.” That was all she’d say about that.
At least they had some private space now, unlike when she first arrived. Gossiping was much more fun than threatening though and Margo was pleased to see that Tim was also fun to talk to.
“Bucky’s the one with the metal arm, right?” he inquired, curious, his eyebrows up toward his hairline briefly. He’d seen him around campus but didn’t really know him at all. “You’re not wrong. He is pretty hot.” Of course, he’d seen the sorts that Margo flirted with -- she had pretty decent taste when it came to that. “Not really my type though.” Clearly. Eliot was incredibly attractive, but in a different way, and in a way that Tim preferred. Bucky was the sort of hot you wanted for one night. Eliot was the sort you wanted over a length of time and if Tim was lucky, he’d get that chance.
“So, you’ve threatened to hurt me if I hurt El. We’ve bonded now. Is this where I invite you to stay and help me put together this stupid TV stand?” he asked with an amused look. “I forgot how much of a pain in the arse it is to put together Ikea furniture.”
Margo nodded in response to his question about Bucky and then laughed at his question. “I don’t like you nearly enough yet to put Ikea furniture together with you,” she said. Plus there was the whole thing where she was only two and a half feet tall and likely to be crushed by said TV stand. “I will, however, get out of your hair.” She climbed down from the sofa, seriously annoyed that she couldn’t just stand up like a normal person.
“Good luck,” she said, heading towards the door and realizing she couldn’t reach the damn knob.
Tim’s lower lip jut out in a pout, but it was short lived, simply teasing when she said she wouldn’t stick around to help him. “I guess that’s fair enough.” Moving to amble to his feet (because that’s what it felt like when you were as tall as he was now), he stepped out of her way and followed her to the door. Except she couldn’t reach the knob and that made him chuckle.
It was too cute.
But he didn’t make some witty comment and instead reached to open the door for her, giving her a grin. “Thanks, Margo. Have a good rest of your day.”
As for him? He was going to finish putting that TV stand together and then go find Eliot because… well. After being threatened with harm, he just wanted to see him. And kiss him. And make sure he was okay. Would he tell El about Margo’s threats? Probably, but he expected that his Not Boyfriend (or had that status change?) wouldn’t be at all surprised by it.