Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer owns the characters, the settings and everything except my bizarre sense of humour.
Author's Note: My computer helpfully decided to break on me so I couldn't write fanfic for a few weeks. Woe! But now I am back, and I've finally finished this fic after having started it ages ago, so I thought I would post it for y'all. Just to let you know that I am Not Dead.
Random and Intrusive Advertising: Support the Orion Awards!
MANY HAPPY RETURNS
On this particular morning, Holly woke up and didn't immediately attempt to throw her alarm clock into the wall. Instead she did a very unusual thing and rolled out of bed, smiling. But then today was special. Today was Holly's birthday.
She got dressed, ate and brushed her teeth without one groan - even though today was a weekday, and that meant work at the agency with Mulch. She even hummed a little bit. With time to spare before she needed to set off for work, Holly grabbed her keycard and sauntered out of her flat, heading down to the lobby to check her mailbox. She unlocked it and found the small metal box stuffed with packages and envelopes. It took her a while to gather them all up in her arms, and even then she felt a bit precarious on her journey back to her flat. Trying to reopen her door with her keycard but no free hands was a complicated process but she somehow managed to do it without dropping anything. She wobbled over to the sofa and collapsed with the pile of birthday greetings in her lap.
Holly fished out all of the cards and opened them first. Some of them were from old LEP colleagues - Newt, Hawthorn, Vein and so on - some from old school friends - Ruby, Bramble - and some from distant family members. Then she moved onto the parcels. The first one she laid hands on was addressed in her mother's handwriting, an easily recognisable curl in brown ink.
As all packaging does, it seemed to conspire to be unopenable. This wasn't helped by the fact that her mother had wrapped it up in several different layers of paper, stickytape and string. Holly tried pulling it, shaking it, ripping it and swearing at it - but none of them worked and she eventually had to go and fetch the scissors. She finally discovered that it contained a large sparkly card and a strawberry-and-vanilla bath time gift set. (Her mother had long ago given up trying to follow "what's cool with you youngsters these days, I don't know, when I was your age..." and had resorted to sending pampering products under the theory that Holly could use them to relax after a hard day protecting the fairy people. Her mother knew she was no longer in Recon, but Holly had neglected to tell her she was not in the LEP at all now, and so she believed her daughter worked in some obscure and secret division that she must never tell anyone about in case they informed her of the truth.)
She knew who the next package was from before she even glanced at the handwriting: it was giving off a distinctive aroma. Mulch tried his best but, despite all of Holly's teasing, he couldn't quite conquer the natural inclinations of his dwarfish body. On hot days she sometimes regretted asking him to be a partner in her PI business, but she knew she needed his knowledge of the machinations of the fairy criminal underunderworld. She laughed, shook her head and opened the box. Inside was a note and a present wrapped rather badly in shiny green paper.
She read the note first. "Happy birthday Holly! I hope you enjoy it. I had to call up an old contact to get it. Mulch." Oh dear. What had he got her? Something highly illegal, no doubt... Swear toad juice? Stink-worm powder? Ah, no, it was a Mud Man DVD! The recently released WWE : Super Deluxe Aggro Smackdown. Holly had taken to watching it on the Mud Man channels after the debut of the Jade Princess. Not that Mulch, or anyone belowground, knew who that was. At least Mulch had managed to get her present that was only vaguely shady rather than outright illegal.
Fortunately the next package didn't stink to high Haven. It had Trouble's handwriting on the label. She opened it and found a new set of crunchball gloves and a card which had a note scribbled at the bottom saying, "There'll always be some LEP officers down at the West Bank crunchball club. Come and play with us often." She smiled. One of the things she missed most about the LEP was playing in their crunchball league. She hadn't gotten around to joining a civilian team yet. Well, maybe she would now...
The following parcel was addressed in red ink and wrapped in paper with a red-rose design. It had to be Chix. And, yes, chocolates. Again. Holly quite liked chocolates, but Chix had never bothered to ask about this. Chocolates, he believed, were a romantic gesture that all women appreciated and which would cause them to fall at his feet. He didn't seem to have noticed yet that the women were not falling at his feet. In fact he was usually the one falling at their feet, mostly with pain. But he still faithfully sent out the boxes - and while Holly's feminist side was mildly offended, the rest of her just said, "ooh, free chocolates." She opened the lid and popped one of the sweets into her mouth. Mmm, caramel! Then she set the box aside and moved onto the next package.
Again, the label told her who it was from before she'd even opened it. Strangely for someone who was a perfectionist in every other area of his life, Foaly had terrible handwriting. Holly laughed, amazed that it had even made it through the postal system: she couldn't make out the address and she knew where she lived. With the help of the scissors she got into the parcel. It was the latest album by the Golden Acorn Boys, the biggest boyband belowground. She loved their music - Holly was a pop fiend - but she wasn't a screaming, hormonal fangirl. Holly blushed. Foaly always teased her by saying that she had a crush on "the blonde one"; Holly was ashamed to admit that she knew his name was Ash. Next time she saw Foaly she would have to make a crack about Lili Frond.
There was one final package. The label was printed, not hand-written, and there was no return address. She wondered who it could be from, as she wasn't expecting any more presents, and began to open it to find out. Inside the wrapping and a cardboard box was a black case. On top of it was lying a small piece of card printed with a message. She picked it up and read it aloud. "For the one who needs it least. Your secret admirer, xxx." She frowned, and slowly opened the case. She gasped when she saw the contents.
Laid into the lid was a small mirror. The bottom half of the case had several trays that folded out. The first contained an assortment of eyeshadows and mascaras; the second, an array of lipglosses, blushers and foundation; the third, a variety of brushes of all shapes and sizes. Nestled at the very bottom of the case, in its own space under the trays, was a compact book entitled "The Beginner's Guide To Make-Up".
Holly knew instantly who it must be from. Most people believed that she disliked make-up, because she never wore it. But once, just once, she had mentioned to someone that actually that wasn't the case - but knowing nothing about any of that business, she was too embarrassed to even practise, since she would never learn what wasn't a good look except through yobs shouting, "is the circus in town then?" at her down the road. He must have taken this to heart, and had bought her one of the most unexpected but touching presents she'd ever received.
But why hadn't he signed the card with his name? Oh, she understood that he was afraid to admit to having feelings for her in case they weren't reciprocated, but didn't he realise that there was only one person who could possibly have known to buy her this specific gift? She knew she had mentioned the trivia about make-up in an offhand way, but at the same time she'd also blushed and been unable to meet his eye. Surely he'd guessed that this was her little confession? Except he had sent her this unsigned package, so he can't have done...
Obviously he thought so little of himself that he didn't believe she could consider him a close friend, nor that she would ever confide in him. But then, she thought with a smile, he had always been rather paranoid...