Fighting Laughter

"I don't care if it's your sweet sixteen, you insolent child! The enemy will not let you off easy just because he smells ice cream cake on your breath!"

I parried just in time, the stress of a hard fight pounding and throbbing harshly beneath my fraught skin. William Charming was being inexcusably horrid today, charging 30 second fight sequences over and over. My heart was beginning to scream for reprieve, hammering against my rib cage like an animal that wanted to escape. But like he and Snow often said, there is no rest for the wicked. I'm still not quite sure if they mean me or the enemy.

He's not training me to be a warrior of steel, I thought wretchedly, keeping my teeth securely clamped shut to prevent myself from biting my tongue, he's trying to work me into a pile of slag.

I leaped back, eyes narrowed and searching for where he should strike, but all I saw was a hardened fighter whose breath was an even pendulum.

Stupid Everafters and their advanced respiratory systems.

I jumped back in with a piercing cry, hoping to unnerve him, but there were few tricks that I knew that he did not, and he met my throaty scream with a snarl of his own, sounding like a great tiger on the hunt. I felt myself pale under her own helmet, but the misty heat haze surely kept my cheeks red as the blood that coursed just under the surface. I viciously attacked his defense, over the head, side-side, but only nicked his shoulder. Charming's actions were controlled and bordered on serene.

Stupid Everafters and their high stress threshold.

He clipped my shoulder, and right as I was about to counter, he called time.

"Stop."

I ripped my head gear off, storming over to my water, barely remembering to only sip the cold liquid so that I didn't give myself a stomachache. Charming also went to his water and drank it with that same grace he did everything. I only gave myself a second more to gulp down oxygen before I faced my instructor once more.

"Take me on again." I said, throwing my sweat towel off to the side.

He pursed his lips, already shaking his head.

"I'm not sure about that. You're distracted."

I gritted my teeth.

"One more time," I begged, lifting my sparring sword to ready position. He still looked unsure, but indulged me nonetheless.

"Begin."

My blood began pounding anew, sweat dripping down my face.

-Oh! Blood, sweat, and tears got me to where I am now, with fear as the secretive puppeteer. I'd always been a hot-tempered but learning the nuances of fighting had never been on my life plan-

I manged to time my jump correctly and cleared his blade only to stumble when I landed.

-But what else can you do when you still feel weak and helpless?-

I caught his strike to my usually slower left, but in my moment of satisfaction he came around to execute a strike over the top of my head.

-Never again would he looked at me like only someone to save, because against what everyone said, I was good at fighting despite my impulsive behavior-

My defense was much too weak and his barely muted strike hit me on the top of my head. I went down, landing sharply on my lower back, falling flat. I looked up in defiance, but upon seeing the tip of his blade, I let my head fall back.

-But I may never be good enough.

"You didn't look up, Sabrina."

With that, Charming didn't even call the official kill. He just turned stiffly on his heel and walked to his gear bag, pulling the securing knots of his chest gear lose. I struggled to my feet, trying to evaluate the condition of my back. Finding it more or less manageable, I reached down for my sword, letting out a small gasp when my lumbar vertebrae smarted.

Upon hearing this, Charming didn't even turn.

"Go home."

"What?" I said, leaning on the wall. "Our time isn't spent."

He kept right on packing his things, the calm actions infuriating me to no end.

"True, but you are."

I opened my mouth to object, but he sighed and turned his head to face me, his usually perfectly pomaded hair in disarray.

"You've gotten worse, not better over this session." He pinched the bridge of his nose and and went back to putting things away, disappointment for me oozing off of him. "Just consider it a happy birthday gift. Don't expect anything else."

I snapped my jaw shut to keep it from trembling, wresting off my things into my bag. Usually I would smile at his attempt at a veiled gift, but I just wasn't feeling it today. He let me leave, as always without a goodbye, the pig. (How the lovely and kind Snow White managed to fall in love with that troll, I'll never understand.)

The cooling evening air was good for me however, giving me time to cool off mentally and physically.

My quote on quote "sweet sixteen" hadn't gone that well.

My day began like you might think, with that feeling of Saturday sunshine and birds singing in the trees. But the apartment soon seemed lonely, accounting to the fact that no one else was home. My mother, father, Daphne, and Granny had all been gone for about a week and a half on a mission that involved coming in contact with many powerful magical items. For obvious reasons, they left me to hold down the home fort. Even Basil, too young to stay alone for too long (as I was gone most of the time at school), was sent away to stay with Cinderella and Tom.

Of course, that did seem a bit convenient, and I wondered if they all thought that I wanted to spend some time alone. (Perhaps because I would sometimes tell them all to 'just leave me alone' when I was in one of my angry moods.) It had been nice at first, but a sadistic part of myself started to miss stepping on every stray Lego that Basil would leave about.

For once, however, I'd been optimistic, as I had plans to spend most of the day with three of my close friends from school. They didn't even know that it was my birthday because it wasn't exactly something that I broadcasted to everybody. This was accompanied by the fact that the day previous, Friday, had been another friend's birthday. I had been content to stay quiet and celebrate for them, because really, it would seem childish if I tried to put my birthday up like some banner in front of hers.

I spent my morning in peace, trying to pretend that I wasn't sick of the emptiness by now. Then, an hour before my friends were supposed to arrive, I got a call from one of them apologizing that they were feeling too sick to walk. My optimism was still in full force, but once the second called in to say that they were grounded for staying out late, it began to wilt. Then, because the Universe hates me, the last also called with an excuse.

No wonder I'm never optimistic.

After that, since I was dressed and ready, I still went out to walk aimlessly around New York. This, as it turned out, was a mistake as after half an hour, a homeless man started to follow me around talking gibberish about fairies in the sewers. (I mean, honestly, they live in the park, for goodness sake.) It took me another quarter of an hour to lose my tail, and by that time I decided that staying inside would be a better idea. After that fiasco, I didn't do much other than prepare for my fighting lesson.

For the past year, after deciding that I didn't trust my safety, I started learning how to fight from Snow and William Charming. Snow had been the one to offer their services when I had offhandedly mentioned my concerns to her. At first the drag of sitting in uncomfortable stances and punching the air over and over was boring as all else, but after sticking with it for a few weeks, they finally geared me out and slowly weaned me into free fighting. It turned out to be exhilarating-I was hooked before I even knew what hit me.

Snow clapped for me the first time I 'won', and when I proved fatal to Charming he gave me a compliment that wasn't covered in countless layers of sarcasm.

I was more often than not taught by only one of them at a time because the two had extremely differing thoughts on fighting. Snow was all about doing whatever you needed to survive a fight, and Charming held steadfastly to fighting with honor. I can still remember him walking in once when Snow and I had wrestled to the floor and I was pulling her hair to get her to give in. Even better was his face when Snow praised me for my quick thinking. ("But your beautiful ebony hair!" he had cried, running his fingers through her silky locks. Snow had responded with a flat voice, "So are you saying that all I'm good for is my hair?")

The one problem with learning from them was that they lived in Ferryport and I lived in New York City most of the time. Thus, I was lent a tele-orb, a very simple magic ball that could take one person to and from very specific areas. One side was set to a remote alley nearby our apartment and the other side was set to the area beside Granny Relda's house. We had to be careful where we put the portals as we wouldn't want anyone to die of fright because somebody suddenly appeared or disappeared, but it also wouldn't be good to put them in our houses in the case that someone stole the orb.

At about 5:45 I had locked up the apartment and went with my equipment to the alleyway, checking carefully for any random undesirables who might be lurking around. After deeming it safe, I used the orb to travel to Ferryport with the same strange feeling of getting all of your matter blinked into another location. I had been optimistic then, (oh, hadn't I learned anything?) because my fighting lessons were always a good way to brighten my day.

In the present time, I dragged my feet as I approached Relda's house. Mechanically, I pulled out the orb. It was a lucky find, as the magic was so simple that even I could use it without any adverse effects. I traveled back to New York City and got back to my family's apartment without a hitch, but I paused when I found that the door was already unlocked. I opened the door carefully and peered into the opening room, spotting a figure in the kitchen. They must have sensed the door opening, but my fears were alleviated when the figure called out, "Sabrina? Is that you?"

"Mom?" I called back, kicking off my shoes, trying to keep my voice from sounding too excited.

"In here!"

I ran into the kitchen and met my mother in a hug. I could instantly discern the tension in her muscles and I could practically feel fatigue coming off of her in waves.

Despite this, I couldn't help but smile.

"How are you home early mom? Is it just you?"

My mother spoke tiredly. "We found the artifacts that we were looking for and Relda and I decided to come back home so that I could pick up Basil. He doesn't like being away from us."

I felt hot, raw irony building in my throat.

"So when is everyone else coming back?"

Instead of answering, my mother waved her hand dismissively and said, "I'll tell you all about it later. Right now I need to sleep, I've been up for a long time."

My smile inexorably fell.

"But mom it's my..." I cut myself off to see if she would fill in the blank. She just stared back blankly, eyes blurry.

"Never mind." I muttered, and I abruptly clamped my mouth shut and turned on my heel to the staircase. My mind promptly turned aloof as I walked up the stairs, throat burning. So what? She didn't remember-she was busy and tired.

It'll just be one crummy birthday of thousands, considering my immortality.

What about turning sixteen even means that much anyways? Sure most kids are opened up to getting a license, but with all of the activities that I'd been pursuing, there hadn't been much time for me to learn anything in the way of driving. (Not to mention that flying magic carpet rides are way faster and require less skill.)

So what gives? It's not really much more than a marker for my physical growth-something that I did everyday.

And yet my heart still felt heavy with an emotion that manifested as anger.

By the time I got to my room, I was steaming. Thus, it took me a while to notice the discrepancy, as I was too busy putting my gear away in a red haze-viciously mentally lashing out at anything that I could think of to blame.

What had I done, huh, Universe? When did I offend you so badly Lady Luck? Was it when I asked for a normal life where people remembered simple events like the anniversary of my birth? Heaven knows that if we missed something for Daphne or Basil that no one would stand for it.

Part of me knew that I was being extremely dramatic, but the louder part of my mind didn't care.

When people saw me like this, they all told me the same thing, 'Just calm down, it's just your raging teenage hormones.' Ouch. Just because I'm a teenager doesn't make my feelings any less real. In fact, it made them more real, more intense.

I'm not an adult yet, part of me wailed, I'm still trying to figure this stuff out.

Couldn't my family and Charming understand that?

I huffed and sat heavily on the floor, crossing my arms across my chest. It was then that I finally noticed the little parcel out of the corner of my eye. I slowly rose and examined the fancy plastic bag. Inside about half a dozen snickerdoodles glittered with sugar and sparked with cinnamon.

I picked up the bag to get a closer look, turning it over and over, looking for some sort of indication of who had made them. There wasn't any telltale card, but for some things in life, you don't need an explanation-you just know. My stomach did this funny little flip, overturning the cage of butterflies and setting them lose to wreck havoc.

Puck. This stunt just reeked of Puck. (Not literally, as Uncle Jack had made him swear an oath to bathing or no traveling.)

Foolishly, I glanced around my room as if he was still there. Nothing; I was all alone with my pounding cardiovascular muscle. I stood in silence for a few moments more.

As suddenly as the reprieve from my anger had come, it all rushed back, and I strode over to my window and pulled it all of the way open.

Our apartment is on the top floor of our building which gives you easy access to the roof along with a great view of the city, but I wasn't in the mood for sightseeing.

I stuck my head and most of my upper torso out of the opening and looked to both sides and towards the ground. With another pang of disappointment, I leaned forwards to throw the offending gift away-hoping that I'd get some satisfaction watching it burst apart on the ground. Serves him right for not even coming to meet me in person.

Stupid Everafter, I'll show you how much you mean to me.

However, before I could, I was suddenly lifted out of my window by my arms with a jolt in my stomach, the sound of barely contained laughter echoing around me.

My breath was forcibly stolen from my chest, and all I could do for a second was process what had happened.

Oh. I thought dizzily, you didn't look up, Sabrina.

"Puck!" I yelled, after I regained my senses, struggling in his grasp. I craned my neck to see his pompous face.

He let go of one of my arms to salute me with a roguish grin, letting me dangle precariously from only one of his hands.

"How are you doing, Stinky?"

"This isn't funny, Puck. Get me down!"

"Well, milady, your wish is my command. And I don't disappoint!"

He let go of me and I let out a startled shout that was muffled by the fact that I knew it was coming from the second I spoke the word 'down'.

Puck lead me on with this falling routine for a couple of frantic heartbeats before he dived down and caught me in a maiden hold. I let out a groan, my injured back protesting. Puck, on the other hand, was still laughing like this was all good fun. I let out another groan, clutching his neck to steady myself.

"Have I ever told you how much I hate you?"

He smiled cheekily, "Maybe once or twice."

I glanced down at the buildings below us and quickly lost track of where we were.

"Puck!" I roared over the freezing wind, "Where are you taking me?"

Puck didn't say a single word in answer, he just looked down at me and smirked before setting his eyes on the sky once again.

Realizing that I was in for a ride to wherever Puck was taking me, I huddled as close as I could to his chest, the wind whipping my hair. Perhaps this is why fairies have a resistance to the cold-for I, on the other hand, as a poor human, was shivering.

After another minute or two, Puck slowed and I took my head off of his shoulder, trying to figure out where he was going to land. I blinked, confused, as we were still far from the ground. He angled himself to land on a building that stuck out above all of the rest around it. I squinted at it. From this high up, it looked like a green smudge amongst the grays.

When he lighted down, placing me down on my feet, I realized that I still had the parcel of cookies; clenched in my hand as if I had never really wanted to get rid of it.

I took in the surrounding area, a bit mystified. Where concrete should've been under my bare feet, there was thick grass and wild flowers, and around the perimeter, hedges lined the roof. It was easily recognizable as one of those 'go green' rooftop gardens-just more geared to a rural backyard instead of growing food. Puck noticed my admiration and spread out his arms, gesturing to the space.

"Nice, huh? With all those Everafters getting new jobs-and as some of them are pretty successful at it-Faerie now owns this building. I asked if they could turn this roof into a field. Maybe someday start a garden." He grinned self-indulgently, "Quite the revolutionary idea, don't you think?"

He managed to make me snicker in that moment at his expense, but I decided to leave his precious ego at peace. Instead I focused on my surroundings.

"It's so serene." I breathed, inhaling to get a lungful of the air that smelled sweet and thick with the scent of exotic flowers. "It's amazing."

It was one of those places that made you forget that just a few stories down, urbanization was in full swing.

He picked a delicate blue flower out of the grass and twirled it around with his fingers. He then nodded in a agreement with my statement and said, "When it's so high up, you can't even hear the cars. Good for the soul or something."

Puck was quiet for a few seconds before he added nonchalantly, throwing me the flower, "Happy birthday, Grimm."

I caught the bloom deftly, speechless for a moment.

He remembered.

Well, that much was obvious because of the cookies, but him saying it made me unbelievably happy.

Surprising even myself, I threw my arms around his neck. And because I felt so giddy, I kissed him soundly on the cheek.

"Thank you, Puck. It means a lot."

As soon as I moved off of him, he made a big show of vigorously rubbing his cheek like I'd marked him or something. With his face turning steadily redder, he mumbled a 'you're welcome'. I covered my mouth with a hand to hide my giggles. Making Puck blush was still one of my favorite things, it seemed.

"Yeah, well," he said, clearing his throat, "You seemed lonely." His teasing didn't match his eyes that were full of empathy-an unfamiliar emotion to see in him.

But then again, loneliness seemed to be something that Puck had always known, following him like his own personal shadow. The epiphany hit me like a whole ton of bricks. No wonder he did so much to get attention. After I processed his words, however, I frowned for a moment.

"Wait, how would you know that?" I asked, sure that I hadn't seen him for months.

"I was going through the city around the same time you were out." he explained, bringing to mind my solitary stroll.

"Why didn't you come over to see me then, pus-brain?" I said, punching his shoulder junction lightly, annoyed but still reeling from my revelation about his personality. He held his hands up in a calming gesture.

"I was actually in a hurry-not to mention being escorted by a pair of the coolest goblins, you wouldn't believe how many disgusting places they've been! Like the bottom of an eternal dumpster-" he cut himself off, noticing the estranged look I was giving him. He cleared his throat and finished his original thought, "Yeah, anyways, just passing through. Oh! Also, this funky homeless dude started to tag along and kept muttering 'fairy boy' at me. People were starting to give me weird looks."

"You too?" I gasped, and we both cracked up at the thought of the crazy beggar.

"So," I said, wiping away a stray tear, "What brings you to the city then, if not to harass me?"

Puck's smile turned into a brooding expression and he sat heavily onto the ground. I joined him after a moment of hesitation.

"It's my mother. She's been wanting me to visit. Especially once she learned that I would turn sixteen physically soon."

I got a sharp stab of guilt.

"Wait, when is your birthday? Did we miss it?"

Puck looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

"No. Everafters don't really have birthdays because the calendars change for you mortals so much. We only really keep track of the years."

I knitted my eyebrows together and inquired of him, "So then how would you know if you're going to turn sixteen soon?"

Puck assumed a strange satirical countenance to cover his discomfort.

"Put it together, horseface." He flicked me on the forehead much to my chagrin. "I'm aging with you now. Today is my birthday because of you."

A blush spread across my cheeks. "Oh. I guess that'd be true... Happy birthday then." My statement came out more like a question.

He just snorted in response, picking at the grass. I observed him and I felt a spark of electricity under my skin. It had barely occurred to me before, but Puck had been aging still. In fact, although I hadn't thought about it, when we were standing, he had had a couple of inches on me.

When did that happen?

"I've missed you." I suddenly blurted out.

Puck gave me a sidelong look that guaranteed that he didn't miss my sudden change of subject, but his following smirk promised that he didn't mind.

"Obviously. You should've seen your face when you thought I wasn't going to appear. Hi-larious."

"Ha ha." I shoved his arm, embarrassed. "You sadist. You live to torment me, don't you?"

He grinned lazily, "Guilty as charged."

Wanting to get away from the warm feeling that his smile gave me, I took out the parcel of cookies and set them on my lap.

"So," I gave him a languid smile to match his own, "Cookies now?"

"I bought those." he said quickly, the tips of his pointy ears turning red.

I laughed heartily, "As if."

He huffed, "Fine, fine. The kitchens are the last place that mother would ever look for me, alright? She's such a pain." He made his voice go high pitched and irritated to imitate Titania, "'Puck, you need to try on this robe,' and 'Puck go get a haircut. It's a mess.'" I bit my lip to keep from laughing too hard at this.

He paused for a breath, then added, "And also I knew it was your birthday so...so I did something, something..." He looked sick, as if saying the word 'kind' would brand him.

I shook my head good-naturedly, finding that I wasn't in the mood to beguile him into saying it. If he wanted to cling to his immaturity, who was I to tell him to grow up? Maybe we all spent too much time telling people to grow up when we should be telling them to enjoy their young years while they have them. Heaven knows that I would do anything to have those years of innocence back.

"Any particular reason for snickerdoodles?" I asked conversationally, opening the plastic and getting wreathed with a sweet, sugary scent. I picked one out and admired the heat cracks in the top before taking a bite. It tasted heavenly. All sweet with the salty touch of butter topped off with that spicy tang of cinnamon, I let myself take small bites, savoring the flavor and the way it broke apart in my mouth.

Puck shrugged at my question, plucking the blue flower from my grasp.

"Not really," he said as he leaned in close to put the flower behind my ear, brushing my hair behind my shoulder thoughtlessly. "I just thought that the name was funny. Also they it just felt right, I guess."

With that comment, so simply and so undeniably Puck, I couldn't help but smile at him. He tentatively smiled back, giving my shoulder a squeeze. Then, because Puck's mind never was able to stay in one place-especially when that place is kind or serious-his face fell into confusion and he began to prod at my arm. For the moment, I was just as confused as him.

"Um, why-?"

"When," he started, trying to poke my arm again, but missing because I moved it out of the way, "When in the world did you get muscles?"

I stared at him like he had grown a second vestigial head.

"Excuse me?"

"No seriously," he said, sounding truly and honestly puzzled.

I rubbed my arm where he had struck a sore spot. "I guess it would probably be around the same time I started learning to fight."

He gaped at me, blinking.

"You're learning to fight?"

"Well," I said, feeling self-conscious, "My family doesn't have a great track record for staying out of trouble."

He rubbed the back of his neck and said uncomfortably, "That's...that's interesting."

I gave him a withering look before turning away and growled defensively, "I'm not going to stop just because you don't approve."

He waved his arms, backtracking. "No, no! I think that it's a good thing. Guess you're finding out how much better it is to save yourself, huh?"

I looked back at him carefully. He looked almost upset. But that didn't make any sense.

"As if," I sniffed, carefully brushing his comment off to see how he would react, "Mostly I just get beat up by Charming. Or worse, Snow."

He laughed a little too hard at this but then took on a comical musing look, a fist under his chin.

"Hm. At least now you should know how to make a proper fist."

He ducked at just the right moment to dodge my punch. He chuckled lightly, catching my hand at the wrist. He examined my form, looking pleased.

"See? Very pretty." I couldn't help but notice that he looked up to meet my eyes when he said this. Like a switch was hit, I started to feel my heart in my wrists, and I was certain he could too. I swallowed, pulling my gaze away.

"I'm glad that you're learning." he reaffirmed out of nowhere. I turned my eyes back.

"Yeah. Me too. It makes me feel better...more empowered."

He nodded. "Good." He then rose to his feet, stretching. I watched him for a moment, appreciating this strange boy and all that he had done for me.

"We should get you home," he said, extending his hand to help me up, green eyes bright. I took it, and in one fluid movement he picked me up bridal style. He got a thoughtful look on his face.

"I hope I can remember how to get to your apartment."

I glared at him until his face cracked into a grin.

"Kidding! Honestly, when will you learn not to take me seriously, Grimm?"

"Maybe when you learn how to be serious." I muttered as he took flight.

In an all too short amount of time, I was already back in my room, yelling goodbye to the fading form of Puck. I stayed at my sill a bit too long for someone who was only bidding a friend farewell. I finally turned and deposited the cookies on my nightstand. Still full of that heady feeling that being with Puck gave me, I went down the stairs to get a glass of water.

When I came into the kitchen, I was surprised by my mother crushing me in a hug.

"I was so worried!" she exclaimed before I could ask what was wrong. She brushed a lock a hair from my face, examining me closely. "I went to go check on you, but you weren't there, and-where were you?"

I hugged her as a placating action and pulled back.

"Mom, it's alright. I was just on the roof." Technically true. I saw her gaze sweep over my hair, and if she saw the flower, she didn't mention it.

"I'm glad that you're okay. I just came to say that I was sorry. I completely forgot that it was your birthday today because of all of the craziness. I promise that we'll have a proper celebration once everyone gets back. I promise."

I smiled and hugged my mother once again, telling her that she should go rest-thanking her and saying that I'd be fine for the night and would just be sleeping.

My mother yawned and smiled gratefully at me.

"You've been so good even though you haven't needed to be."

Her praise warmed me to my core.

"Did you have a good birthday?" she asked, smoothing back my hair.

I hesitated for only a moment before I smiled and honestly answered back, "I did, one of the best."

.-.-.-.

AN: Done! Hours and hours this one took! The fight scene in the beginning has been sitting in my computer for the longest time, but I had issues figuring out where to go from there. If I had finished this a year ago, this would be much more different, including the fact that I ended up writing it in first person. We'll see what POV I'll write from now on, but this chapter just hit too many personal notes for me to not write it in first person. Hope it meets all of your expectations!

I love all of you who come and read, I'll be seeing you throughout this summer!

-Pinklily8