Fics like ...and a partridge in a pear tree

“Gideon,” said Palamedes with the patience of a saint, “the rules are the rules. It wouldn’t be fair if I changed them just for you. In a well ordered society— “It’s not a well ordered society.” Gideon knew where that was going, and she certainly didn’t have the time. She slapped a slip of paper onto the counter and said, “It’s secret santa.” And there lay the source of all of her problems: handwritten in a script so neat and precise it could have been printed, Harrowhark Nonagesimus. And everyone knew that Gideon and Harrow hated each other. So what if they had started taking smoke breaks together? So what if Harrow had helped her fold shirts just last week, in a store she didn’t even work in? So what if Harrow had laughed as the two of them did Jagerbombs at Palamedes’ Halloween party, the glint of her fake fangs flashing invitingly in the orange party lights? They hated each other. The two of them would both work in the mall until one of them inevitably strangled the other with her bare hands, and Gideon wouldn’t have it any other way. Except that lately, Gideon had started to like Harrow. Which made that slip of paper a fucking problem.

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