Disclaimer: Maleficent and its characters belong to Disney.

Note: After months without an update - the Christmas special not really counting - The M Word is back! Sorry for the lack of activity in the Malora fandom, but personal life and college are kicking me in the butt...

mad·ness

(n.) 1. the state of being mad; insanity

2. senseless folly

3. intense excitement or enthusiasm

Mal looks up from the screen of her computer as she lets out a deep sigh. The office doors are open and she can hear Diaval's chair squeaking loudly. It has been like that for almost two hours already, since they arrived at the office. She should be used to her dearest assistant spinning around his desk when he is bored – well, he doesn't really need to be bored to play instead of work. She sighs once more and runs her hands through her hair.

"Diaval, come here, please."

There is an ear-piercing shriek. Mal startles. Diaval stumbles into her office and lets himself fall on the first chair he sees. Sweat is pearling down his forehead, his cheeks are red. How long has he been doing nothing?

"Are you planning on working today?" she asks with an eyebrow arched.

Diaval gulps and starts nervously glancing anywhere but near his boss. Mal knows he is trying to hide something from her. He has never been really good at it, but he never realized that. Maybe she should tell him that his attempt at keeping secrets from her are always pointless – or she could keep enjoying to watch him squirm.

"I was just thinking about your wedding!" Diaval exclaims, putting his hands up in defeat. "Do you have any idea how complicated it'll be to find to hold it at the last moment?"

Mal leans back in her armchair to stare at him straight in the eyes. Diaval shivers.

"Yes, I know how complicated it is to organize a wedding. But there are details I need to discuss with Aurora."

"Like the fact you want to send her father to prison?"

Mal clenches her hands into fists and looks away from Diaval, deciding to ignore him until he gets out of her office all by himself. No matter how true what he just said is, hearing him say it so frankly makes her uncomfortable. She shouldn't be feeling uncomfortable because she is planning on exposing Stefan's fraud – she has always wanted him to be punished, and he deserves it, after all he has done. But until now, Aurora's feelings hadn't been of any importance in her scheme. Not that they are – God, she isn't even fooling herself anymore; what Aurora thinks is important. Realizing it the previous night had kept her awake for hours.

"This isn't a subject for a casual conversation with a college student, Diaval."

"This isn't a conversation to have with anyone, you mean?"

Mal knows that what she is doing would be considered morally questionable by most people, she doesn't need the reminder. But all she wants is to send a criminal in prison – and get a personal revenge at the same time – so the fact he is her fiancée's father shouldn't stop her from doing so. Especially when Stefan is bad enough a father to sell his daughter to one of his exes to restore his popularity. If Stefan hadn't gotten himself in this mess, none of this would be happening.

Diaval clears his throat loudly, making Mal look back at him.

"I think you should tell her about it before she reads it in some magazine," he finally says after a long moment of hesitation. "Or even better, don't send your fiancée's father to prison because he is an asshole who broke your heart decades ago."

Diaval is right, she is making things personal, but it doesn't matter. She has to do it anyway.

Aurora wakes up in a startle, body covered in sweat, cheeks flushed. She lets herself fall on her mattress again, rolling on her front to bury her face in her pillow. She lets out a loud groan and, for a few minutes, doesn't make any move. With a sigh, she rolls to the side of her bed to get her phone from the nightstand; the screen is so bright that she closes her eyes for a moment. When she finally manages to look at the screen, she dials Phillip. It rings three times before Phillip answers.

"It's not even eleven. How are you already awake?" he asks, not letting Aurora say anything.

"Can I ask you something?"

Phillip hums his approval but Aurora stays silent. She can feel her face burning with embarrassment. The more she thinks about what she needs to ask to Phillip, the less she wants to actually ask about it. Aurora has never been so ashamed of herself and her unconsciousness.

"Rory? You didn't fall asleep again, did you?"

"No, no! I was thinking about... stuff..."

Aurora pauses once again. She isn't sure whether she should tell Phillip about her dream anymore. She bites down on her lip and sits up to glance at the window. Still staring outside, she takes deep breaths, desperately trying to calm her heartbeat. The silence that settles is heavy and embarrassing, but not as much as her ridiculous dream had been. Oh God. She shouldn't be thinking about that.

"I might have just had a weird dream. About Mal."

Phillip's response is a loud "Oh", followed by a snort. He then starts laughing hysterically, only stopping when Aurora starts to scold him - not that she sounds very convincing, but Phillip is used to her attempts at being strict.

"I just got the wrong idea again, didn't I?"

"No..." Aurora answers timidly.

She stands up, goes to window and leans her forehead against with a loud 'thud'. She stays like that for a moment, only listening to Phillip's breathing and her own, with the hope that it will calm her down. But it doesn't help with the shame, or the guilt, at all. Facing herself and her mind in this silence, Aurora feels even worse.

"So... how was it?" Phillip asks, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Aurora's face turns a whole new shade of red; she can practically hear the smirk in Phillip's voice. He's enjoying this situation way too much. She can't hold it against him though, as she would most certainly tease him if the roles were switched.

"You don't want to know about that."

"Rory, as any typical college guy and more importantly your best friend, I need to know all the details!"

Aurora lets out a desperate groan and starts pouting - nobody could see it though, but she is thankful for that; Phillip would probably never leave her alone if he knew. She shouldn't have called him. Maybe she would have been able to forget about the dream, about Mal - the scars on her back… Now she can't help wandering about the marks she had seen some days ago, when she had barged into Mal's bathroom. Mal spends a lot of time with Diaval so maybe he- no. Mal is way too professional for getting involved with her assistant!

"Are you still alive, Rory?"

Aurora starts and her phone almost slips from her hand.

"I'm fine! I just got distracted! Sorry!"

"Thinking a little too hard about that fantasy of yours?" Phillip teases before falling in another fit of laughter. "Maybe I should leave you to your thoughts, it's too early in the morning for you to be coherent. I'll call you back later!"

And Phillip hangs up without adding a single word, not giving Aurora the time to protest. She stares down at the screen of her phone, her mouth agape, blinking in confusion. What just happened? She presses her forehead harder against the window and sighs. She knows she can trust her best friend with keeping that a secret, but it doesn't help her feel better about the whole situation. Like things weren't awkward enough with Mal already. Now she won't even be able to look at her in the eyes again without thinking about- Oh no. Her mind can't go that wild ever again! She has to do something, to keep her mind on innocent thoughts. Like going grocery shopping. Yes, that would do. Maybe.

Mal smiles proudly and puts down her phone on her desk. She closes her eyes and extends her legs as she lets out a sigh of relief. No matter how much she loves to work, there is nothing better than to finally be able to relax after a day spent calling annoying, sexist businessmen who can't handle being ordered around by women. She has already been told that she takes too much pleasure in angering (and possibly humiliating, especially since the public announcement of her relationship with Aurora) these men, but she never really cared. Her smirk creeps on her lips. She can't wait for Stefan to become like all of them.

One of the glass doors of her office is creaked open, letting Diaval's head appear. He seems hesitant to enter so Mal nods to signal him he is allowed to. She might have been too harsh with him these past few weeks.

"Would I be wrong to assume you want to talk about the wedding?" Mal asks, an eyebrow arched.

"I can come back later if you're still not in the mood for that conversation," Diavals says hesitantly, already grasping the handle to close the door behind him.

"Stay, please. Sit down."

Diaval blinks, visibly confused, but he drags a chair next to Mal to sit down. They stare at each other in silence for some endless, awkward seconds, neither of them knowing what to say, or if they should say anything. Mal sighs and looks away from her friend to concentrate on the computer screen in front of her. From the corner of her eyes, Mal sees Diaval shift in his seat and wipe his hands on his pants.

"You know you can't organize the wedding all alone?" he finally asks, relieving both of them from the heavy silence that had settled in.

"What do you mean? Of course I can."

"Aurora can't be blindsided again. I mean, it's also her wedding, isn't it?"

Mal rolls her eyes. Diaval is absolutely right and she hates it.