Fred Weasley is actually just insane. (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} gigglefit) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valarlogs,@ 2013-05-14 09:56:00 |
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What: Working, except not really, because it's a joke shop and let's be honest here
When: Mother’s Day Weekend
Where: For the Lulz
Rating: Low. There’s some kissing though!
Status: Complete
Fred was getting coffee. At least, that had been his excuse to intentionally make things extra awkward for the last half hour. Half hour. As if that coffee shop wasn't across the street. George rolled his eyes, looking out the window of his shop at the coffee shop. His twin really was kind of an asshole.
On the other hand, it was kind of perfectly funny, and he probably would have done the same.
"So anyway," he said, boosting himself up on the countertop next to the register. "I know you prefer filing and stuff, but it's best to just know it all, since Verity's in a bad way and all she does is pray to the porcelain gods lately. Right useless, pregnant women are." He was speaking of course, to Abigail - the new hire who had actually shown up for her first day. She was a cute little thing, really. Braids and blushes and cookies. The twins rather liked her, even if she wasn't as overt as they tended to like.
“Most pregnancies aren’t that bad, really.” Abigail blinked, leaning on the counter and looking up at George. “Are you sure she’s okay?” For her first day at a joke shop, Abigail had erred on causal instead her usual formal self. She’d even worn tennis shoes. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
But then she looked up. “So, Fred isn’t coming back, is he. Does he expect you to seduce me in half an hour?” Yeah, Abigail was smarter than she looks. So ha ha, Weasleys.
“Dunno, I’ve never been pregnant. I think it’d be horrid for my figure.” George said, because he was feisty like that. “All’s I know is that she vomits like it’s going right out of style.” They were a little heartless about it, honestly. But only because they liked Verity, and therefore no longer saw any reason to respect her. It made sense. Really.
“Mm,” he went on, making a little face. “He might give me a good forty-five minutes. Could probably do it in that time, yeah?” And then because he was an awful sort, he winked. And also filed away the information that she’d caught on so quickly.
“You wouldn’t seduce me in the shop,” Abigail grinned, rolling her eyes. “Not while it’s open.” Besides, she wasn’t that easy to seduce. Even the weird kiss with Motoko had been because Abigail had wanted her to kiss her.
“It does seem like a lot of effort.” George was chipper about it, anyway. Seduction was for people who were seductive, in any case, which was something the Twins had never really been. They were more --er. Well. The Twins. ...Still.
“But wouldn’t he be shocked if we got him to believe it happened anyway?”
Abigail smiled, leaning closer to him. “Are you saying you want to kiss me, George?”
Too easy. George might not have been the most seductive, but he was pretty damn clever. And he realized she was clever, too. He gave a grin, big on teeth. “Oh, maybe,” he agreed by not really agreeing. “But anything past the little touches and handholding phase would be too obvious, don’t you think?”
“Maybe.” She tiptoed up to kiss him lightly, chuckling. She’d never been kissed before that month, and now she was kissing other people. Look at her go!
George might have been terribly proud of her for that, but somehow she was quite distracting. Oddly ahead of the curve for someone who’d boasted no sense of humor, too.
“AHAH!” Fred? Fred had a someone is kissing my brother -- no, not all of them, just the twin one sense. Apparently. Since he was standing in the entryway of his own shop, pointing like a mad man who’d just struck it rich. Oddly devoid of coffee, also.
“Oh, hello.” said George, suddenly looking at the ceiling.
Abigail folded her arms when she saw Fred, raising a brow. “Where’s your coffee? Will you show me how to use the register?” She played along with George’s ‘that didn’t happen’ attitude, amused at how those two interacted. “Or are you upset I left you out?”
She clearly liked to poke things with sticks.
They liked to poke things with sticks too. Ew, get your mind out of the gutter. No, actually, that wasn’t wrong, either.
Fred smiled. “I drank my coffee. Never said I was getting any for you slacks. And of course I’m upset. Why wouldn’t I be?” And then he pushed George over in order to sit next to him on the counter. They barely fit at the same time, but managed. “Was it good?” Who he was asking, wasn’t very clear.
“I really wanted a coffee.” George was bemoaning the most odd of things, here.
“Are you asking me or him?” Abigail tossed her hair. “I didn’t kiss him long enough to tell. Do you do this with all your employees?”
“Well, our other one is pregnant.” How they managed to both say that at the same time was some kind of national secret, really.
“Fine.” She reached out and grabbed Fred by the shirt, snogging him hotly where she’d kissed George chastely. Just to keep things uneven in their brotherhood. Shit stirring? Nope. Not Abigail Lecter.
Unfortunately for Abigail, their shit was nigh unstirrable. George gasped theatrically before honest to god clapping a little even as Fred kissed her right back. And here they thought she’d be a charity case. Shock and awe. Or just amusement, really.
“Pretty good,” Fred decided upon pulling away.
“Yes,” George agreed with a sniff.
Did they ever actually get customers?
Abigail just rolled her eyes. “Do you guys actually ever get customers?” She agreed with the narration, apparently.
The narration was usually pretty spot on. Even they might agree with that. George shrugged. Fred looked at the door wonderingly. “Well,” one said, allowing for the other to continue.
“What mother really wants to step in here on their own hol?”
“It’s all about fancy soaps and … William Sonoma this week.”
“Mmm, fancy soaps.” Abigail smiled brightly, sitting on the counter between them. She knew a thing or two about fancy soaps. “I’m guessing Halloween is your busy time of the year?”
They totally squished against her on purpose. Now she was sandwiched between twins. “Halloween, yeah,” Fred contemplated pulling on her braids.
“And April Fools...shame you missed that one. Best night of the year.” A pause. “Christmas does swell, too.”
“I guess that makes sense. What do you two get each other for Christmas?” She was interested in them psychologically, she wanted to know how they worked. She sort of wished she had someone she could be so connected with.
What an odd question. Then again, she had talked about being a … something or other smart person in college thing. They forgot. George shrugged, and then leaned an elbow on her shoulder.
“We pool up and buy something cool. Or we save the money for our birthday. Depends.”
Abigail nodded. “That sounds nice. Are you guys close to your family? I’m sure not as close as you are with each other.”
“Some more than others. They’re good folks.”
“They try, anyway, even though they’ll never be quite as brilliant as us.” George gave a dramatic expression before hopping off the counter and going to turn ‘round their door sign to closed and lifting his eyebrows at Fred.
“Lunch time,” Fred agreed to the unasked question. “Where do you wanna go?” And then he totally did pull her braid.
“Ow!” She giggled, rubbing her head. “I don’t know, I brought my lunch.”
“Boring.” Simultaneous speaking was the best speaking method. “We got a little clock sign on our door so we can go places. Don’t make us unable to use the little clock. That’s just sad.” George put on a good pout about it.
Her eyes rolled again. “Oh, fine,” she sighed, finding her purse. “I’ll go wherever you two want to go. So the little clock is worth something.”
If she hadn’t been expecting them both to throw their hands up in celebration, she already wasn’t paying enough attention. The twins weren’t completely sure how not to be five years old one second, and flirtation the next. Nor did they want to be.
“Waffles for lunch!” Fred locked the register and stuff you do when you own a business.
“I get to sit by Abigail!” George did none of that shit.
She blushed at George’s excitement about sitting by her, ducking her head. “Waffles for lunch sounds... really good. Can we get whipped cream on them?”
That was because waffles for lunch was really good. Everyone should do it.
“Aw, shit, girl. Anything for you.” The twins pulled off a damn good American accent, by the way. They’d spent equal time here, after all. Soon enough they’d have to pretend British. Or visit their mum more.
Abigail blinked. “Never do that again. Your accents are cuter, and girls like British accents anyway. The guy I like, he’s got an accent, and I hope he never loses it.” She tosses her hair; better they learn now that it isn’t them.
Yeah, except now they’re going to want to know who. And they never rest, Abigail. They never sleep.
Fred got the door for them all, locking up once they were outside. He bumped shoulders with George. “It’s up the block a ways. Walking distance. Best waffles.” A pause. “Who do you like? Is he British? You don’t know any other Weasley’s do you?” Because clearly everyone with an accent was a Weasley. “Does this mean we don’t get more kisses? What about cookies?”
Abigail sighed. “I’m not telling, he’s not British, I don’t know any other Weasleys, you can have more kisses since he’ll never notice me and I can’t ever have him, and cookies aren’t kiss dependant.” She answered their questions in the order they were received, moving to stand between them and hold each of their hands.
George blinked, and Fred followed suit. It wasn’t long for them to process the information, glance at each other over her head as if having their own conversation over it, and then lift their shoulders into a shrug.
They’d push more later. Because they did that. And they always would. But for now this seemed okay.
“We like how keen you are,” George said, after a beat.
“You can stay.” Fred agreed.
“Was there any doubt?” Abigail blinked.
They both pretended to think on that for a few moments and then grinned, all teeth and cheer. “No,” said Fred.
“Not really,” agreed George.