So since I've been on quite a rampage, killing off a lot of story characters, I thought I'd write something a little more lighthearted. Fair warning though, I'm not very good at the lighthearted stuff so this may not be very good. Anyway, I hope you like it, and thanks for reading.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Sisters Grimm series.
Sabrina was sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard with a book in her hands when she heard it.
The sound of footsteps, creaking up the staircase.
She quickly turned off the lamp and listened, trying to determine who's they were.
They were too quick for Granny's, too light for Henry's or Canis', too heavy for Daphne's or Red's, and too clumsy for Veronica's.
She frowned. It can't be a robber, can it? She mentally smacked herself. And if it is, I'm going to be a complete idiot for thinking that.
Reaching under her bed, she withdrew her wooden practice sword, and quietly snuck out into the doorway. She knew her way around well enough that she didn't bump into anything, and her eyes had adjusted to the dark so that when she poked her head outside, she could see a black shape moving towards her.
Taking shallow breaths, her fingers tensed around the hilt, and her knees bent. When the figure approached her room she stepped out into the hallway, the tip of the sword pointed at her would-be assailant's throat.
"Who are you?" she whispered threateningly, pressing the tip further in.
"Well," the person said, "this wasn't how I thought I'd come home."
There was something familiar about that voice... Her eyes widened, and the sword fell. "Puck?" she asked in a loud stage whisper.
"The one and only." There was a dim glimmer of teeth as he smiled. "Let me into your room before you start screaming in joy, or we'll wake everybody up."
"I'm not going to scream," she insisted. "But yeah, all right." Moving aside to let him in, she picked up the fallen blade and went back inside, closing the door behind her. She flipped on the lights and turned to inspect the fairy in front of her.
"Well," she began, "you look different." A sixteen year old young man stood in front of her, towering over her in height, much to her annoyance, with small hairs growing along his chin and a voice which was deeper than she was used to. His arms were thicker than before, and his concave chest had filled out, stretching out along broad shoulders.
He was by no means extraordinarily huge, but he had an athletic build, and a roguish grin on his face.
"You going to say something, Grimm? Or are you just going to keep ogling my hot body?"
She instantly looked up (dammit!) at his face, glaring. "I wasn't ogling," she said evenly.
"Looked like ogling to me."
"Well go see an optometrist." She put down the sword. "When are you leaving this time?"
"An opto-what?" He asked, peering confusedly at her.
A sigh. "An eye doctor."
"Well why didn't you just say that?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're an idiot." She missed the sly grin on his face. "When are you leaving this time?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "See, that's a bit of a difficult question to answer."
"And why is that?"
"Because I'm not leaving."
She stared at him. "What?"
"I'm. Not Leaving." He smirked at her dumbfounded expression. "You look like an owl, Grimm."
She smacked him. "You're staying. For real?"
"Yep."
"You mean... Like, you're coming back?"
"I mean..." he mimicked, "like, yeah."
"Oh." She lapsed into silence, but she couldn't help a grin spreading across her face. Nor could she help running up to him and tackling him in a hug.
"Oof!" he groaned as she slammed into him. "Jeez, a little warning next time would be nice." But his arms went around her and he held her close.
"Stop being such a wimp," she said into his shoulder.
"I wasn't being a wimp," he replied defensively, "you've just gotten bigger."
"Wimp."
He chuckled, but didn't reply.
"You're back," she whispered.
"Yeah, I am," he whispered back.
"I don't know why I said that."
"Neither do I."
"You could have said something, you know. You'd think you'd find someplace to tell me after calling me almost every day."
He shrugged. "I wanted to surprise you."
She pulled away, and looked at him. "Well, consider yourself successful. For once."
He raised an eyebrow, but smiled anyway.
She sat down on the bed, and motioned for him to sit beside her. He did, his back flat against the wall.
"You better not prank me," Sabrina warned, "now that you're back."
"I missed you."
She blushed slightly, but shook her head. "Not related to what I was saying. Stop trying to change the subject."
"You're supposed to say 'I missed you too'," he whined.
"Argh fine. I... missed you too. A little."
"Oh come on. Say it with some feeling."
"How do I 'say it with some feeling'?"
"I don't know. Figure it out yourself."
She slapped a palm to her forehead. "You're an idiot."
"So I've been told."
"That's 'cause it's true." She lay down on the bed, when she noticed a strange bulge in Puck's pocket. "What's that?"
He looked down. "Huh? Oh that? Nothing," he said nonchalantly, but when she tried to take it he slapped her hand away.
"What is it?" she repeated.
"I said it's nothing."
"If it's nothing, let me see."
"No! Sabrina-!" She wrestled it out, and held in her hands a small bottle of hair dye.
He winced.
"Puck?" she asked, calmly and politely.
"Yeah?"
"Why do you have a bottle of hair dye in your pocket?"
"Uh..."
"It wouldn't be because you were going to rig my shampoo, would it? On your first night back?"
"Well when you put it like that—" He quickly stopped when he saw her fierce glare. "Yeah, it was." He braced for the incoming punch, throwing his hands up to defend his face.
He shouldn't have bothered. Sighing, she threw the bottle on her pillow. "Well I can't say I was expecting anything less." She lay back down.
He peeked from between his fingers, and slowly put his hands down. "Wait, you're not going to hit me?"
"Nope."
"Oh. Why not?"
She arched an eyebrow at him. "You want me to hit you?"
"No no. I was just asking."
"Well stop asking."
"Ok." He lay down beside her, staring at the ceiling.
"I still can't believe you're back."
"So you keep telling me."
She turned on her side to face him, and he did the same. "It's been really quiet without you here."
"No need to get all sappy on me Grimm."
She scowled.
"But don't worry, I'm back to liven things up again." Without their noticing, their hands had inched together during their conversation, and finally they brushed against each other. He winked at her, and looped his first finger around hers.
She raised her eyebrows, looking down at their intertwined fingers, but didn't moved to separate them.
"I never got to kiss you before I left." He frowned.
"Yeah you did."
"Well... that time doesn't count, since you punched me after."
"I guess."
"...I kind of want to right now."
"Kiss me?"
"Yeah."
"I kind of want to too."
"To too?"
"What's wrong with to too?"
"Sounds kind of funny is all."
"Oh shut up and kiss me, you idiot." And then her lips were on his, and his lips were on hers, and excitement rushed through their bodies like fire, some sort of pleasant, buzzing fire. Her hands tangled in his hair, his went to her hips, and they pulled each other closer.
She smelt like soap, soap and paper, like a weird sort of clean book, and for once those words didn't send a shiver of repulsion down his spine.
He tasted strange, sweeter than she would have expected for someone so dirty, apples maybe? But there was something else there. Something spicier, more exotic, like cinnamon, or nutmeg. She decided she liked it.
When they broke off, foreheads still together, the tips of their noses touching, they were breathing heavily.
"That was... a lot better than the last one." Sabrina said finally.
"Yeah."
"I liked it."
"Me too."
She swallowed, and Puck chuckled quietly.
"Want to do it again?" he whispered.
"Sure."
...
Nothing much changed after that. He still played pranks, she still punched him, it was still a common sight to see her storm into his room in the morning with green hair, yelling obscenities. But every so often she'd hit him a little less hard, he'd throw only a couple of water balloons at her. They'd go a bit easier on each other.
Of course, when Daphne found out she immediately inserted her palm into her mouth, started screaming, and frankly blew everything out of proportion.
They were discussing this, as Sabrina was washing dishes and Puck had snuck up behind her, placing his hands on her hips and kissing her shoulder (it was a hot day, and she only had a singlet on).
"Daphne's going completely crazy over us," he said in between kisses "like completely nuts."
"I know. It's not even that big a deal."
"I know, right?" He nuzzled her neck, and she sighed, leaning back into him. The plate she was washing dropped into the sink, and her eyes were half-closed.
"You know I'm still annoyed at you for leaving," she said, although her voice was soft.
"But you're happy I'm back?"
"...A little," she admitted.
"Exactly. So no harm done."
"You're an idiot."
"So I've been told."
Out of the corner of his eye Puck saw Daphne walk into the kitchen. She took one look at the two teenagers and walked back out, grinning .
"Daphne just saw us," he said.
"I know."
"Your eyes are closed."
"Half closed. There's a difference."
"At this rate, she's going to have a fit."
"I don't even know what she's on about. It's not even like I like you or anything. Just hate you a little less."
"I know, right? All we do is hate each other a little less. We should go tell her that."
"Mm... not now. Later."
He chuckled. "Enjoying yourself are we, Grimm?"
"Don't let it get to your head."
"Too late."
"Dammit."
To be perfectly honest, this was more of a dialogue exercise than an actual plot-driven story. I'm not very good at it though, I hope you didn't hate this story too much. Thanks for reading, and please review.