A/N: Aaack. The notorious villian Real Life has intruded. Every word here
was written on stolen time. And I mean stolen. So this chapter is a little
short... I was going to wait until I had more before I posted it, but after
about five reviews demanding more ASAP (thank you, Kaio! You will forgive
me, won't you? LOL!) I figured I'd better get this thing up pronto. (I
can't believe you all LIKE this so much... it's really not that good...
though I must admit, I am flattered...) So, anyway, here it is, and
hopefully I'll be able to get more up soon.
*****
The next morning arrived bright and early... MUCH too bright and early; Mrs. Boot pulled up the shutters outside my cell the second the sun peeked out. I had been woken up about noon, after Mrs. Pearl left, and had been kept awake until past midnight talking to... or rather, listening to... Mrs. Boot, and signing forms. And now I was having to get up, because for some reason unknown to me, Mrs. Boot had felt the need to come in at the crack of dawn and start singing "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" in as loud as she possibly could, in what I assumed was supposed to be an opera voice.
"Oh! You're awake! I can't believe you're up this early!" she exclaimed upon seeing me sit up, as though it was highly unusual to see someone wake just because of the sun staring them directly in the face with a soundtrack of bad opera filling the every nook and cranny of the room. I made no answer (though I admit I was more than relieved the singing fever seemed to have passed), and she pressed on.
"Well, guess what? You're getting out today! That woman that was here last night, you know the one, of course you know the one, there WAS only one! Silly me! Well, anyway, she came and talked to me and the fellow who works above me. He's the one who decides when people get to go. And I imagine you know that you get to leave today, too... that's mostly what all those forms were for, so I really didn't need to tell you that. Well, a happy reminder, then, we'll call it. How's that?" She laughed in an awful, cheery falsetto. "So, you get to get out! That woman --- nice, she was! --- said she'll be here at about eight o' clock. So you'll need to get all ready to go, it's almost six already, would you believe that? It's too bad you're leaving, you're one of the nicer prisoners we've had in here. Bless me, I remember one time when a fairy godmother came in here..."
And she proceeded to tell me a long story about when a fairy godmother cursed her so that she'd look like an oversized parrot for a month. A very talkative parrot, no doubt...
Finally, almost an hour later, her story (complete with backup about her great-great-grandmother's famous pickles and a complete list of all the godmothers that had transformed her into animals) ended, and she excused herself and left. It was a good thing... I was about to turn her into a parrot with its vocal cords removed. My wand, for some reason, hadn't been taken away, and I was seriously considering giving it some exercise.
I looked around. Nothing to pack. And though I didn't imagine I looked the best, there was no way I was going to call Mrs. Boot to let me go freshen up in the bathroom. She'd probably follow me in there and tell me all about her favorite soap brands. Not that I was against the use of the vocal cords, but sometimes they would do better to go on vacation. Mrs. Boot's, at any rate, needed a definite break or they were going to die from overwork. Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing.
I watched the gold and pink clock on the wall outside my cell. Mrs. Pearl wouldn't be here for two hours at least, so I turned to a small stack of magazines that an elf had brought in the evening before. They were all teenage magazines, with articles like "How to Tell if He REALLY Likes You!!!!!" and "Totally Rad Summer Fashions!!!" (You could tell the level of stupidity the magazines were catering to from the number of exclamation marks to be found at the end of every article title.) They weren't exactly the most mind-invigorating reads, to be sure, but it killed time. And besides, it was actually kind of fun to give the models unsightly facial hair with my wand. It was even better when the photos were those newly developed aware-of-the-environment kind, and scowled whenever I did anything to them.
I amused myself for the two hours in this way, and even cultured a new charm to turn high-fashion pants into the sort of thing usually worn on golf courses... only in a bigger plaid and in uglier colors. Then the door opened, and Mrs. Boot hustled in, followed by Mrs. Pearl. I quickly returned the magazines to normal with a wave of my wand and stood up.
"Look at this!" Mrs. Boot said excitedly. "Here's your, your, what are you again? Oh, yes, your boss. She's here to take you, lucky you! You actually got off without bail, she talked to my boss, you know. So you're out, and I certainly hope your stay was nice! You'll just need to sign these forms, they're the last ones. We certainly do have a lot of paperwork here, don't we?" She laughed and handed me a stack of papers and a gold pen through the bars. I sat back down and started to sign while Mrs. Boot kept chattering. These papers were for the oddest reasons --- Do you agree not to sue over the quality of the comforter on the bed? Do you promise not to file a lawsuit against the Arpathian law system about the paint job on the bars of the cell? Do you solemnly swear that you will never name one of your children after the janitor, even if he did help you out in a tight spot? (I knew there must be a story behind this one... the janitor's name was John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, and I couldn't imagine why anyone would burden a child with that. Especially since said janitor insisted upon being called by his full name at all times.)
Finally all the papers were signed and I was more than ready to go. Mrs. Boot unlocked the cell and let me out, and then ushered both Mrs. Pearl and I out the door, talking nonstop the entire time. I was perfectly happy to be ushered out, and did my best to leave as quickly as possible. Mrs. Pearl did the same. We had to sign out at the front desk, and then we were out into the bright sunshine and flew off.
"We'll stop at your apartment," Mrs. Pearl said once we were up in the air and on our way. "I imagine you'll want to change." She glanced at my rumpled ball gown. I nodded.
"Definitely. So we're leaving for Olympus right away?"
"Yes. I'm thinking that the sooner we do this the better. I know you'll be wanting to get back to your assignment."
"Yeah... though I don't know that I'm needed much anymore," I said with a shrug. "They all seem to be settled." Mrs. Pearl gave me a look and laughed.
"That is a very naive statement," she said, looking amused. "Never assume anyone is settled until they've kissed the bride. Or groom, as the case may be. Especially royalty." She paused, thoughtfully, then added, "How soon is the wedding going to be?"
"I don't know that they've decided on a date. A couple months, I'm guessing," I said with another shrug.
"Not for a prince's wedding," she said. "Longer than a couple months... a couple of years is more like it."
"A couple YEARS?" I asked, horrified. Mrs. Pearl smiled.
"That's the NORMAL course of things. But remember... you're a fairy godmother. They could have tie the knot within a month. Just use your magic and your INFLUENCE. Remember: there are perks to being a godmother, influence is one of them. It's a perk and an enormous tool." "Good," I said. The college and town were below us now, and in a moment, we were swooping down to my apartment. I let us in, and Mrs. Pearl waited while I changed into something a little more practical and presentable looking, that didn't smell as though I had been wearing it for two days. Then we were off again, to Mount Olympus.
*****
The next morning arrived bright and early... MUCH too bright and early; Mrs. Boot pulled up the shutters outside my cell the second the sun peeked out. I had been woken up about noon, after Mrs. Pearl left, and had been kept awake until past midnight talking to... or rather, listening to... Mrs. Boot, and signing forms. And now I was having to get up, because for some reason unknown to me, Mrs. Boot had felt the need to come in at the crack of dawn and start singing "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" in as loud as she possibly could, in what I assumed was supposed to be an opera voice.
"Oh! You're awake! I can't believe you're up this early!" she exclaimed upon seeing me sit up, as though it was highly unusual to see someone wake just because of the sun staring them directly in the face with a soundtrack of bad opera filling the every nook and cranny of the room. I made no answer (though I admit I was more than relieved the singing fever seemed to have passed), and she pressed on.
"Well, guess what? You're getting out today! That woman that was here last night, you know the one, of course you know the one, there WAS only one! Silly me! Well, anyway, she came and talked to me and the fellow who works above me. He's the one who decides when people get to go. And I imagine you know that you get to leave today, too... that's mostly what all those forms were for, so I really didn't need to tell you that. Well, a happy reminder, then, we'll call it. How's that?" She laughed in an awful, cheery falsetto. "So, you get to get out! That woman --- nice, she was! --- said she'll be here at about eight o' clock. So you'll need to get all ready to go, it's almost six already, would you believe that? It's too bad you're leaving, you're one of the nicer prisoners we've had in here. Bless me, I remember one time when a fairy godmother came in here..."
And she proceeded to tell me a long story about when a fairy godmother cursed her so that she'd look like an oversized parrot for a month. A very talkative parrot, no doubt...
Finally, almost an hour later, her story (complete with backup about her great-great-grandmother's famous pickles and a complete list of all the godmothers that had transformed her into animals) ended, and she excused herself and left. It was a good thing... I was about to turn her into a parrot with its vocal cords removed. My wand, for some reason, hadn't been taken away, and I was seriously considering giving it some exercise.
I looked around. Nothing to pack. And though I didn't imagine I looked the best, there was no way I was going to call Mrs. Boot to let me go freshen up in the bathroom. She'd probably follow me in there and tell me all about her favorite soap brands. Not that I was against the use of the vocal cords, but sometimes they would do better to go on vacation. Mrs. Boot's, at any rate, needed a definite break or they were going to die from overwork. Not that that would necessarily be a bad thing.
I watched the gold and pink clock on the wall outside my cell. Mrs. Pearl wouldn't be here for two hours at least, so I turned to a small stack of magazines that an elf had brought in the evening before. They were all teenage magazines, with articles like "How to Tell if He REALLY Likes You!!!!!" and "Totally Rad Summer Fashions!!!" (You could tell the level of stupidity the magazines were catering to from the number of exclamation marks to be found at the end of every article title.) They weren't exactly the most mind-invigorating reads, to be sure, but it killed time. And besides, it was actually kind of fun to give the models unsightly facial hair with my wand. It was even better when the photos were those newly developed aware-of-the-environment kind, and scowled whenever I did anything to them.
I amused myself for the two hours in this way, and even cultured a new charm to turn high-fashion pants into the sort of thing usually worn on golf courses... only in a bigger plaid and in uglier colors. Then the door opened, and Mrs. Boot hustled in, followed by Mrs. Pearl. I quickly returned the magazines to normal with a wave of my wand and stood up.
"Look at this!" Mrs. Boot said excitedly. "Here's your, your, what are you again? Oh, yes, your boss. She's here to take you, lucky you! You actually got off without bail, she talked to my boss, you know. So you're out, and I certainly hope your stay was nice! You'll just need to sign these forms, they're the last ones. We certainly do have a lot of paperwork here, don't we?" She laughed and handed me a stack of papers and a gold pen through the bars. I sat back down and started to sign while Mrs. Boot kept chattering. These papers were for the oddest reasons --- Do you agree not to sue over the quality of the comforter on the bed? Do you promise not to file a lawsuit against the Arpathian law system about the paint job on the bars of the cell? Do you solemnly swear that you will never name one of your children after the janitor, even if he did help you out in a tight spot? (I knew there must be a story behind this one... the janitor's name was John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, and I couldn't imagine why anyone would burden a child with that. Especially since said janitor insisted upon being called by his full name at all times.)
Finally all the papers were signed and I was more than ready to go. Mrs. Boot unlocked the cell and let me out, and then ushered both Mrs. Pearl and I out the door, talking nonstop the entire time. I was perfectly happy to be ushered out, and did my best to leave as quickly as possible. Mrs. Pearl did the same. We had to sign out at the front desk, and then we were out into the bright sunshine and flew off.
"We'll stop at your apartment," Mrs. Pearl said once we were up in the air and on our way. "I imagine you'll want to change." She glanced at my rumpled ball gown. I nodded.
"Definitely. So we're leaving for Olympus right away?"
"Yes. I'm thinking that the sooner we do this the better. I know you'll be wanting to get back to your assignment."
"Yeah... though I don't know that I'm needed much anymore," I said with a shrug. "They all seem to be settled." Mrs. Pearl gave me a look and laughed.
"That is a very naive statement," she said, looking amused. "Never assume anyone is settled until they've kissed the bride. Or groom, as the case may be. Especially royalty." She paused, thoughtfully, then added, "How soon is the wedding going to be?"
"I don't know that they've decided on a date. A couple months, I'm guessing," I said with another shrug.
"Not for a prince's wedding," she said. "Longer than a couple months... a couple of years is more like it."
"A couple YEARS?" I asked, horrified. Mrs. Pearl smiled.
"That's the NORMAL course of things. But remember... you're a fairy godmother. They could have tie the knot within a month. Just use your magic and your INFLUENCE. Remember: there are perks to being a godmother, influence is one of them. It's a perk and an enormous tool." "Good," I said. The college and town were below us now, and in a moment, we were swooping down to my apartment. I let us in, and Mrs. Pearl waited while I changed into something a little more practical and presentable looking, that didn't smell as though I had been wearing it for two days. Then we were off again, to Mount Olympus.