IMPORTANT AN: Hi! Thank you for reading this! My authors notes will be filled with clearing up anything I might find will confuse the reader about lore that I can't put in the story, or other hopefully helpful and important things. This story is pretty much rated M for swearing and mature themes, but no sex scenes. I am absolutely terrible at writing them and we will all be better off without. If you have any lore questions, inquiries about the story or anything like that, please feel free to PM me or leave a review! Now, to the story!

Nico was known for being able to do small jobs around the house He was not afraid to make use of this reputation. Fix a leaky pipe here, help lay down some carpeting there and presto! Forty bucks and a free meal at his feet. Using his odd bartering system, Nico was able to help pay his side of the rent for his shared apartment (which was a bit smaller than Reyna's. She had a job.). Besides, if ever there was something he couldn't pay for, he could probably just make or fix it. Therefore, it was not at all odd for Nico to leave his apartment to the sweltering heat of mid-July to go help Wacky Old Mrs. White with her faulty cabinets. 'Seriously? Sixty-five bucks for fixing a creaky cabinet?' Nico had thought. 'Where do I sign up?'

Mrs. Whites house was the kind of place that makes you think of that story about an old lady living in a boot. The place seemed to be falling apart at the seams and some of the flowery pink wallpaper was starting to peel off and reveal wood underneath. The grass outside was brittle and dry while any plant life inside of the house was either wilted and brown or so completely odd to Nico that he wasn't sure they weren't plastic. Though Nico was forced to stop his musing at Mrs. Whites shrill command to get Nico marching into the kitchen.

Opposite to the rest of the house, Mrs. Whites kitchen was positively sparkling (though a bit odd). The pristine white tiles sparkled in the light filtering from the lace-curtained windows, and the granite countertops looked clean enough to eat off of. This was very much unlike the adjacent hallway, where Nico swore he'd seen the rodent version of Godzilla pee on the fraying carpet.

Though looking like the most well-kept room of the house, it seemed the kitchen managed to also be the most odd. There were bowls of porridge, honey and milk scattered all around. There was one huge dog bowl on the counter that read 'Brownie' on the side, and was filled to bursting with dinosaur oatmeal. A measuring cup with a pint of honey sat on top of the fridge with three tiny matchsticks stuck to the rim.

"Uh," Nico began intelligently, "Do you have a dog or something?"

Mrs. White looked up from where she was inspecting the dog bowl. "Oh no dear. Just some friends." Mrs. White smiled and Nico managed not to shudder too obviously.'Oh my god. She's crazy. Absolutely nuts. No Nico. Endure. Remember the money!'

Within his mind, Nico imagined his sister Hazel looking at him disapprovingly. He could hear the jeweller now. "Nico," she would warn. "Just be nice, okay?" And he would huff, cross his arms, and nod. So, Nico was going to be nice.

"Alright. The cabinets?"

Mrs. White nodded so vigorously her scraggly hair caught in her earrings. "Yes, yes. It's these ones you see. They've been stubborn to open and creaking terribly, all day and night. Scares my little friends, you know." Nico nodded mutely for lack of anything to say to that, and got to work.

One hour in, and Nico thought he had pretty much figured out the problem.

Two hours in, he realized the problem was larger than expected, and the air conditioning fizzed out.

Three hours in, Nico's hair was plastered to his face and he hallucinated. On the side of the counter, only about a rulers length from his hand, sat a small, furry little man, chugging milk through a swirly straw like he was going to die if he even thought of doing anything else. Nico promptly screeched in a distinctly banshee-esque manner and flicked the thing off the counter and onto the floor.

At his screech, Mrs. White calmly walked into the room and examined her kitchen. Then, she too screeched and sprinted to join the thing on the floor with a cry of, "Greg! No!"

As she fussed over the Greg-thing, Nico tried to come to terms with the fact that the weird little furry brown man was real and he touched it.

Mrs. White confirmed that yes, the hairy Greg-thing was alive and yes, he was in fact gravely injured. "My foot!" it wailed dramatically, clutching the body part in its furry fingers. "Oh no! Oh dear! Oh great buggering blubbernuggets! My foot-beard will never be the same! I am traumatized!" He managed to say 'traumatized' in the same aghast tone as one would imagine the Queen using as she witnessed her corgis taking a dump on the crown jewels. (Later, Nico would reflect on the fact that Greg should have been in broadway. With such a talent for being melodramatic and a set of lungs like those, he would be a star.)

Mrs. White rounded furiously on Nico. "What have you DONE?"

"What have I done? More importantly what the actual fuck is that thing!"

Mrs. White seemed to take a second to think about her next move. For a little while, Mrs. White stood still, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. (At the sight, Nico was strangely reminded of his big sister's expression whenever she'd gotten angry at him. She would start yelling, but a few words in, she would stop. Bianca would close her eyes, put her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose, breathe slowly, and count to ten in Italian. "Uno, due, tre..." Then, she would smile at him and they would fix whatever was wrong. This, however, was not how Mrs. White handled things.) After a few minutes more of silence, Mrs. White opened her eerie, white-blue eyes, and grinned.

"Why, Mr. DiAngelo." 'Not a good sign!'Thought Nico, 'She sounds like Mr. Thorn! Not a good sign at all!' "This here is Greg McHufftrump. He is one of the little friends I was telling you about earlier. Do you perhaps, know what a Brownie is? No? It is alright. I will tell you. A Brownie is a type of fairy that lives in peoples houses, kitchens in my case, and helps them in everyday household chores. Things such as wiping up crumbs and washing dishes. If you give them gifts, porridge or honey for example, they become happier and friendlier. Though, Brownies do not much like to be seen. That is why they like to come out at nighttime best. Unfortunately, Greg here is a bit sick," ("I'm dying!" wailed Greg from the floor, sneezing theatrically.) "So he came down here while the others were asleep for a midday snack. You just happened upon him."

Nico found it hard to believe in fairies, but he found it even more unbelievable that he was believing this unbelievable story without much disbelief. But then again, if you couldn't believe your own eyes, what could you believe?

"Now, here is something you might be more familiar with." Mrs. White's grin managed to stretch even wider. "Witches. Witches often have little Brownie friends about the house. Nothing uncommon. Witches are humans that are capable of the fine art of magic. You know what magic is, yes? Good. You see, all of this is very important because I myself am a witch. And you see, I very much love my little Brownie friends, so I am afraid I will have to punish you for hurting one of them so." 'Oh my gods, oh my gods.' Nico thought frantically, backing into the granite countertops till they dug into his back and gripping them so tightly his knuckles shook. 'She's crazier than expected. Way crazier!'

"It seems you do not have much of an appreciation for the Little People,"'What the hell?' "So, I will help you understand. Unfortunately, specie-scrambling potions take thirty years to brew. I will make do with some behaviour spells and a curse or two. I will not let you stay in my home though, oh no. You are far too rude."

'I am so confused about everything right now.' Nico's feet felt like they were glued to the ground. "Do not worry though. I know just the home for you. He has been complaining about the messes he manages to make since time immemorial! You are going to be just the thing."

For the first time since meeting his Step-Grandma Demeter, Nico was absolutely, thoroughly, and without a doubt terrified of an old lady in her kitchen.

Mrs. White had monstrous strength, both physically and in numbers. She had called to her aid a veritable army of things (Brownies?) to her aid and overwhelmed him. She had then tied him up with a mish-mashed assortment of heavy-duty curtains, rope, duck tape, and zip ties around his wrists, ankles, knees and elbows. 'Overkill much?' Mused Nico inappropriately.

His screaming and hollering had been silenced with an old, dirty dishcloth stuffed into his mouth. He was so going to die. His Hope for Escape was at 0 HP. (Yes, he played video games. No, he did not enjoy being called a gamer-guy, and yes, he was thinking of video game metaphors while being kidnapped my an army of deliciously named diabolical hench-fairies led by their evil old lady master who was a witch. ) 'Oh gods why me?'

Mrs. White led him into her living room that witch or not, smelled like old lady, and ordered her inch-high Brownie minions to dump him on the middle of her raggedy red carpet. "Now then Mr. DiAngelo. Just give me ten minutes and we will figure everything out in a jiffy!" With this cheery declaration of pure, honey-coated crazy, Mrs. White plopped down on one of her many armchairs with a large book in her hand. She spent the next ten-or-so minutes conversing lowly with her fairy minions about (presumably) world domination, desserts, and Nico's untimely demise.

After what felt like a millennia, Mrs. White rose from her chair and shooed her Brownie army onto the armchairs. "Now then. Here is what we will do. First, a spell to make you want to preform the right tasks and behaviors of a Brownie. You know, the same instincts of the FAIRIES YOU ALMOST KILLED!" Nico would never admit it, but he cowered a bit. This lady was almost as petrifying as

Step-Grandma Demeter. Almost. "Then, I will just shrink you down to size. Unfortunately, you will not get to look like a Brownie. Just the same as you are. Pale and boring." 'Ouch.' "But! You will be able to do some of the special things that Brownies can do. For example, your voice will be just as loud as a normal persons if you would like, or quiet as a mouse! You can even choose who can hear you! Oh! You know how ants can carry an amazing weight for their size? So will you! Brownies are such wonderful creatures are they not? And you almost KILLED ONE." Mrs. White took a deep breath and smoothed out her dress. " The rest you can find out for yourself! After all, this is a PUNISHMENT. Now, hold still..."

Mrs. White held out her arms in front of her, palms down, and started chanting. Her eyes began glowing an unsettling ice-blue and her matted hair whipped around her face. Nico couldn't tell what language she was chanting in. One moment it sounded like French, then switched to Cantonese, and then became Klingon for all Nico could decipher. Slowly, his vision started blackening around the edges, and Nico passed out just as Mrs. White started on with Spanish.