Abigail Hobbs is a survivor. (laniidae) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-05-19 14:04:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, abigail hobbs, fred weasley, george weasley |
Who: Weasley Twins + Abigail Lecter
What: The twins pump for information.
When: Sunday afternoon.
Where: For the Lulz.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; warnings for mention of Abigail's physical relationship with her father.
Status: Complete.
Normal weekends were actually pretty busy at For the Lulz, and as such, the Twins were happily balancing out helping customers and making sure Abigail was actually getting real training in.
So far they'd gone over an extreme emphasis on greeting customers, learning the register, being able to tell little kids off for being too obnoxious, restocking, et cetera. The hustle and bustle of mid afternoon busyness died down a bit, leaving a slow trickle of customers who were more poking around and looking than they were buying.
Which meant that it was a good a time as any for Fred and George to go back to their normal selves as opposed to the played up business versions of themselves.
Fred leaned against the counter by the register next to George -- their shoulders touching as they gazed at Abigail a bit across the store. They glanced at each other, sharing a silent conversation, and then back at her again.
"So." Fred started. He almost always started.
"Enjoying the day, Abigail?" George didn't always finish their thoughts, but it suited them both when he did.
Abigail had been laughing with a little girl as she showed her a magic trick. Leaning back, she waved at her bosses and nodded. She was dressed modestly and casually (for her) - dark jeans, a pale blue blouse, and a darker blue scarf around her neck. She walked over to the twins and ruffled their hair. “I am, why do you ask?”
They both made nearly identical fake bitey faces at her hair ruffling, but as usual, their bark was so much worse than their real bite.
George crossed his arms, even as Fred returned the favor of ruining her hair.
“What?” Fred asked, feigning innocence.
“We can’t worry about the well-being and happiness of our employees now?” They could and actually did of course, but rarely would they actually let on to that.
Abigail smiled, wrinkling her nose at the hair ruffling she got in return. “Nope. You’re not. You’re cruel and awful.” She reached out to tickle him, countering with savage pokes to the ribs.
They didn’t exactly flee from her, but the two did dip deftly behind the counter after the assault. George stuck his tongue out. Fred nodded in agreement.
“We’re the nicest of bosses,” George pointed out.
“We care a lot,” Fred agreed.
“We just wonder if your supreme happiness is our doing -- which it very well could be, we are pretty awesome-- or if you’re -- uh. Trying to make up for the--” George actually looked a bit delicate over it, gesturing to his own neck awkwardly.
Abigail smiled, looking down at her hands. She appreciated their tact, and returned it with trying to be tactful herself. “You guys are wonderful, and I’m glad I work here, but no, it’s not just you two. And I’m not making up for the scar. I’m just in a really good mood.”
She wasn’t telling the reason why. Not until her birthday. Nobody would understand, so nobody would know.
Someone might understand. Maybe even two people. They blinked at her, with curious, appraising sort of expressions, as if just willing her to go on with her thoughts, even though it was clear she was done speaking.
“Well,” Fred said, cocking his head to the side a little. “Good moods are good.”
“Yes,” agreed George. “Any reason in particular?” At least it wasn’t the scar thing. He’d been a bit concerned about that, if he had to be honest. Which he didn’t. But still.
She shook her head yes. “There is a reason in particular.” But she didn’t offer it. Instead, she saw another customer come in, and she went to greet them happily.
The twins shared another look, and after a moment of that, Fred could only shrug. George turned his lips into a thinky kind of frown. Analysis? Probably a boy. Not one of them (or better yet, the both of them). Totally okay. Playful kisses and handholds did not a coupling make. But that didn’t mean they didn’t want details.
“Well,” said Fred, and George only nodded in agreement.
Commencing: Operation Smiling Weirdly Until It’s Creepy.
So they smiled their cheshire smiles.
Once Abigail had helped the young customer find what they needed, she returned to the counter. They were grinning like cats who had not only eaten the cream, but poured it over some sort of chicken based dish. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” George said, but did not stop smiling. Cream. Canary. Chicken dish. Every fish in the pond. It was theirs.
“We just want to know why you’re happy.” Fred was a bit less tactful, honestly.
Abigail smiled and hugged Fred. “Well, it’s a very good reason.” Yeah, that still wasn’t an answer. She shrugged her shoulder, looking back at George. “I’ve just been sleeping a lot better.”
Neither of them believed her. They were naturally perky, and could probably sleep nine hours a night uninterrupted and still not believe her. “Uh-huh,” said Fred, even though he hugged her back because he was a sucker for a good hug, and that wasn’t the sort of thing you did with your brother in your shop during hours.
“That’s it?” George seemed unconvinced, although no less amused than a minute prior.
“Nope.” She grins at them, hopping up to sit on the counter. “You have to know I’m not telling you. You’ll tease me.”
They watched a few customers trail out of the shop, leaving them more or less alone for the time being. “No we wouldn’t.” Fred said, tilting his lips into a faux frown.
“We’re nice,” George went on, nodding sagely.
“Anyone would tease me about this. I’ll tell you in October.” She smiled, reaching down for the water bottle she kept by the till, drinking contentedly.
“What’s in October?” Fred seemed confused by that.
To be fair, George had been the one to do her paperwork, so he spoke next. “Birthday?” A pause. “You’re seeing someone, then.” Confirmation of suspicions was important.
Her blush was all the confirmation they needed. “Maybe.” She toyed with the scarf around her neck, remembering her father nibbling at her scar before work that morning. It bloomed with bruises underneath the cloth.
The twins shared a look, and then glanced back at her. “Uh-huh,” they both said at the same time.
“We’ll learn eventually,” Fred started.
“Well before October.” George went on, and then in a mix of mastery and just plain twin-ness they finished their thoughts in unison. “You might as well tell us now and save the trouble.”
“If you get him in trouble,” Abigail started, “I will castrate you both. Personally.” She folded her arms, voice dark. “I’d tell you if it it was someone I could tell you about, you dorks.” She turned her head and her scarf moved a tiny bit, exposing one of the expertly placed bruises.
They both observed the bruises with curiosity that melted away into amusement. Clearly, they were unconcerned about threats of castration.
“We’re good blokes,” Fred said, after a beat. “We wouldn’t get anyone into trouble that wasn’t the fun sort.”
George nodded, but didn’t feel the need to speak. He was considering the details. Birthdays clearly factored in. It was someone older than her. Old enough where being legal might need to factor in importantly. Older than the twins then. Hm.
Abigail simply glared daggers at Fred before going to clean a counter. Clearly they underestimated how important this relationship was to her.
“Hmph.” Fred responded to the look, and crossed his arms in a way that spoke of challenge.
George, on the other hand was rather the kinder soul of the two, and settled a hand on Fred’s shoulder, a different sort of silent communication. “We’ll figure it out eventually,” he said, and it was more a hint for Fred to drop it for the time being, than it was any sort of bothered threat for Abigail.
Fred fought with that for a moment, and then shrugged. “Well. Yeah. Just as long as you’re happy, we guess.”
Smiling, Abigail moved to hug George. “He was so jealous of you, George, you have no idea.” Not really of Fred. Abigail may have been the only person in the world to differentiate the twins.
Certainly, she was one of very few who could tell them apart -- the only others that made that list was their overly observant older brother Percy, and occasionally Verity. Occasionally. They honestly should have been more frustrated with how easily she’d figured them out, but - well. It was kind of a nice change of pace.
George hugged her back, giving her a tiny pat on the head, as if in understanding. Fred wisely said nothing on the topic. Sometimes, he wasn’t a complete idiot.
“Anyway,” George said, going for normal. “If you want a lunch break, now’s the time. It gets busy again after three.”
“I brought cookies again for both of you.” She smiled and walked off into the break room, fairly bouncing.
“She’s weird,” Fred noted once Abigail had left the room.
George glanced at Fred, eyebrows up, and then gave a lazy shrug. “So are we. I heard something about cookies. Just gonna -- check on that. Bee arrr bee.” And then like anyone who had any sense, he followed her, leaving Fred behind to greet a new customer.