Guess what! I'm back on board and I officially ship Duncney now DUNCANXCOURTNEY FOR EVERRRR!

...

Well, no, not really. I still hate it. But I'm trying to improve my writing by putting my least favorite couple in a positive light. Here's a drabble; I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Total Drama.


Clack. Clack.

And just like that, the halls of Marquez & Marquez were eerily silent.

Clack. Clack.

The receptionist hurriedly shoved everything on her desk—paperwork, pens, framed photos of family members—into her drawer. She quickly examined her teeth in a small compact, threw the compact in the overflowing drawer, and plastered on the biggest, cheeriest, and fakest smile anybody with functioning nerves could ever hope to muster.

Clack.

The footsteps were definitely getting closer. It seemed like ever since she got on board and pretty much took over the place, they acquired weird radars going in their brains, informing them that she was coming. Coffee was quickly gulped, paper cups were shoved into the trash bins, and butts were promptly deposited into the pristine whiteness of the swiveling office chairs.

Clack.

Breaths were held, and...

Clack. Clack.

The double front doors opened, revealing a tall and strikingly attractive brunette. Her unsmiling red lips shone with cool disdain, black power suit carefully pressed, and hair was done in an intricate style that was definitely far too fancy in a common workplace. Only this wasn't a common workplace. It was Marquez & Marquez, one of the biggest law firms in the world, a place they earned under the wing of their new leader.

Courtney Marquez stood in her six-inch death traps of heels and crossed her arms, staring everyone down with her steely eyes. "Are the reports regarding the Johnson case finished?" she asked crisply.

A collective murmur of assent was uttered.

Her mask of cold indifference remained. "Good. And where is my coffee?"

The receptionist pulled out a steaming mug of black coffee from seemingly out of nowhere and presented it to her boss, her smile never once wavering, though the darting of her eyes betrayed her anxiety.

Courtney wordlessly took the cup, and with another round of clacks from her heels, went to her office.

And with that, the inhabitants of the place suddenly regained life. They did, however, remain quiet in going about their respective business, mumbling about their mysterious boss who had replaced her father as the head of the board. She was quiet and positively lethal. No one dared get into her bad side, unless they wanted to end up like that one guy—rumor has it that his wife left him, he was blacklisted from practically the face of the earth, and took the identity of the mute homeless man that lived in a cardboard box that the employees happened to pass by every night.

They couldn't really tell. His face was too covered with dirt.

They were pulled from the land of unpleasant was when a man sporting a green stripe across a mop of black hair entered the scene.

"Yes?" the receptionist asked, dropping every pretense of a smile and giving him an unimpressed look.

"I'm here to see Courtney."

His request was met with silence.

No one really heard of the big boss referred to as 'Courtney.' In fact, they've pretty much forgotten that she was named 'Courtney.'

"I see. Do you have an appointment?"

And at that moment, the dreaded heels made their reappearance, along with the chilling voice of their boss snapping, "I told you I didn't want Splenda—"

She stopped, and her mouth fell open when saw the young man casually standing there, much to the relief of the receptionist, who was just about ready to stuff herself alongside the contents of her drawer in fear.

Courtney couldn't breathe. On this shitty Monday morning, she saw the delightful smirk of someone she hadn't expected to ever see again. "Duncan?"

He smirked, eyes twinkling. "Princess."

And the everyone in the office watched in utter astonishment, as their cold and unfeeling boss split her face in a broad smile, tossed the flawed cup of coffee to the ground, and leaped into the arms of some strange man with a green Mohawk.

The Mohawked guy casually carried her bridal style to her office and kicked the door shut, leaving everyone slack-jawed and wide-eyed, probably for the remainder of the day.


Yeah...please review. Thanks.