Author's Note: Hello, everyone. This is technically my first Nancy Drew story, although it won't have much to do with Nancy herself. I've always been a huge Sonny Joon fan, falling more and more in love with him as the games went on, and one day, I was struck with the idea of Sonny Joon and Poppy Dada being a couple. At first, it seemed like just an amusing possibility, nothing more, but I found myself getting really excited about their story. So much so that I started writing fanfiction, something I haven't really done in years. It's lovely to try to get into the minds of these characters whom we know so little about. In any case, I hope you enjoy it. I'm writing much of it out-of-order, so the chapters might come in fits and starts, but I figured I'd go ahead and post the first chapter. Reviews are lovely!

Disclaimer: Obviously, the characters are owned by Her Interactive/Carolyn Keene/whoever came up with them. :)

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91 Steps

A Sonny Joon/Poppy Dada Fanfic

Chapter One

Joanna Riggs placed a hand to her temple, momentarily lapsing into something like self-pity. Joanna rarely allowed herself to dwell on the negative. There were simply too many things to do just to collapse in a moment of weakness. Still, today had been especially taxing. She was still working her way through a promising acquisition for the museum, a Mayan monolith that had just been excavated from Mexico, which took up most of her energy. There were a thousand little details that had to be sorted out--paperwork, payment, property rights--and she often came home from work exhausted.

But it would all be worth it, in the end. At least, she hoped. For now, she just ignored the dark circles under her eyes and threw herself into the forms, swirling her signature on hundreds of documents in the hopes that she would soon be the proud, temporary owner of the most important archaeological discovery in the past few decades.

Ordinarily, none of this would have worried Joanna. She could banish any doubts she had under those piles of paperwork, exhausting every possible resource to secure the monolith. But on top of that, there was other troubling news. For starters, she had just been informed today that the Mexican consulate would in all likelihood oppose the deal. This would throw a wrench into her plans. Too busy to look into it herself, she'd simply hired some lawyers to explore the legality of the consulate's claim that the monolith was unlawfully being removed from Mexico. Even if they found something…troublesome…she was sure Sinclair could orchestrate something behind the scenes, something that would satisfy everyone. Honestly, she didn't see the fuss. It was temporary, for goodness' sake! If anything, she was doing Mexico a service by displaying their rich cultural heritage in Washington, D.C. at one of the most prominent Mayan museums in the world. Which would be all the more prominent after the upcoming exhibition.

Along with everything else, though, Joanna also had to deal with another annoyance--hiring a temp. She kept the museum as short-staffed as possible, choosing to invest in the best and brightest to maximize the expertise on hand at Beech Hill, but occasionally, additions just had to be made. Recently, she'd realized that many of the exhibits inside the museum needed major overhauls, and none of the other staff members really had time to work on them. The job fell to the deputy curator, who had recently turned in his resignation, as he was moving to California. He had to be replaced. She'd cleared the issue with the Board of Directors and had secured the funds for another salary. All she had to do was find someone to fill the spot.

So, while there were a million other more important things to do, Joanna Riggs was stuck in her office, staring at the only person who had shown up for an interview. She gave him a quick once-over. He was a skinny, pale, young man--early twenties, thick-rimmed glasses, slightly spiky hair that looked like it had gone through a few odd dye jobs, loose-fitting jacket that he'd rolled up to his elbows. He slouched forward in his seat, his fingers tapping nervously against his knees, and looked at the clock every few seconds. Ordinarily, she would have written him off right away, since it appeared he wasn't taking the interview very seriously, but he was her only option. She'd only had time (and money) to write a brief ad in the daily classifieds, which had ended up being squeezed in at the very bottom of a column, and it had only appeared the day before. It couldn't be that bad, she supposed. Sure, he seemed a bit too casual, but he would only be doing menial tasks anyway.

"So," she began. "You're Mr. Sonny Joon?"

"Just Sonny," he said quickly.

"Alright, then, Sonny. Well, as you know, we're looking for someone to fill a temporary intern position as deputy curator, although if you work out, we're likely to keep you on for quite a while. Tell me, what interested you in working at Beech Hill?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and tipped his chair back, expertly balancing it on two legs.

"Didn't the Maya disappear without a trace a thousand years ago?" he asked bluntly.

Joanna blinked. "Um, why, yes, they did. You're interested in the Maya, then?"

Sonny grinned. The way he smiled made him instantly more appealing--less sullen and strange.

"A little," he said.

"Well, that's certainly a good thing to have at the start. I'm sure you'll learn much more as you go." She glanced down at his résumé, which, though cluttered with large, bright headings, was impressive. "You went to NYU?"

"Yes, ma'am. Bachelor of Arts, and I'm just a dissertation away from finishing a research doctorate."

Joanna's eyes widened slightly. "Really? And you're researching…?"

"I thought about writing it on the Maya," he said with a slight grin.

"Good! Excellent! I hope Beech Hill will give you a great starting point, then." She smiled. Maybe this would work out just fine. "So, what can you tell me about your work experience? Have you ever worked at a museum before?"

Sonny shifted in his seat, his eyes straying to the floor. "No."

"What other jobs have you had?"

Sonny scrunched up his face, thinking. "Oh, let's see, how many was it? I think it was twenty-three last time I counted. No, no, it's twenty-four. I always forget about the alligator farm. Didn't stay there very long," he said, grinning.

Joanna stared at him, her smile slipping slightly. "You're joking."

Sonny shook his head earnestly. "No. It's twenty-four, I'm sure of it."

Joanna shook her head in disbelief. "Oh. Well, in what field?"

He waved a hand. "Oh, anything you could think of, I guess. I've worked at carnivals, souvenir shops, quarries, libraries, jazz clubs, cruise ships. I worked for a guy at his house once--one of those millionaire types, thought he could afford a financial assistant to help him sort out his bills. Insisted on calling me 'secretary,' which I would have taken offense to if he wasn't such an adorable old nutcase. Kind of endearing."

"I see," Joanna said tightly. "And were all of these temporary or contract positions? I mean, you've been through so many…"

"Oh, no. They were permanent. I just got fired from all of them." He said it a bit too brightly, as though it were something to be proud of. Joanna resisted the urge to massage her temple, right at the spot where her migraines always started. A new one was already forming.

"May I ask why, Sonny?"

"Oh, you shouldn't worry. See, I think it had mostly to do with how much I committed to each job. You'd think they'd reward that type of thing, wouldn't you? Thinking outside the box, being a little creative from time to time? I can be very creative, Ms. Riggs." He flashed a smile, and Joanna felt a flicker of understanding. She suddenly knew Sonny Joon--he was motivated, bright, and maybe a little reckless, but he had potential. That was clear. If she just established the rules right off, maybe he'd be just what she needed. Anyway, she didn't have time to be picky.

Joanna folded her hands across her desk. "Well, Sonny, I'm going to be perfectly honest--we don't have much room for creativity here at Beech Hill. We run a fairly smooth ship, so I would prefer it if you didn't, um, go too crazy. But if you think you can handle that, we're certainly willing to give you a shot."

Later, Joanna would remember Sonny's far-too-innocent expression and see it as a warning, an obvious lie that she should have picked up on from the beginning. But now, already turning back to her piles of paperwork, she just felt relieved. Sonny reached out to shake her hand.

"Absolutely, ma'am."