130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash

by FountainPenguin

Various one-shots related to my FOP headcanons based off a list of 130 Prompts, featuring multiple storylines that occasionally cross with one another as I play with worldbuilding and plot holes. (Written April 2016 - Ongoing) LATEST UPDATE: "Approval" - Sneak peek at 155,000-year-old Foop's life on the student council as he decorates the gym for a high school dance.

40. (114) Watch and Learn

Summary: After Poof bails on Foop's tutoring lesson for Anti-Fairy ballroom, Foop and Anti-Marigold track him and Goldie down to teach them some cultural Anti-Fairy traditions.

Characters: Goldie, Poof, Foop, Anti-Marigold, Hiccup, Cosmo, Wanda

Rating: T

Prerequisites: None

Posted: December 12, 2017

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114. Watch and Learn (150,000 years post-series)

First Tuesday of Mid-Winter; Aurora 8047

Year of Fire; Winter of the Dancing Sunset

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Goldie was above such petty acts as slamming a door in somebody's face, but either Foop didn't know that about her, or the events of today had soiled his trust in all Fairykind. He thrust his arm out to hold it open and pushed his way into the cabin, shaking snow from his wings and ears like a puppy. Didn't even look at her. Anti-Marigold followed, crunching through a handful of dry cereal. Her blue eyes flickered with their usual haughty smugness, but even so (or perhaps because of it), she lingered in the doorway long enough to offer her will o' the wisp counterpart a pat on the elbow.

"Let him pick a blue, sheila. Y'all owe him that much."

Foop whipped around. Ice crystals had frozen in his fur, making it stick out at odd angles, and his cheeks had flushed so pink that Goldie had to do a double-take to confirm that yes, that was Foop in control and not the soft-spoken Hiccup. He'd already dumped all his books and papers on the table behind the couch; now, he took a step towards her. The ends of his mustache twitched upwards simultaneously. The guy's eyes might hardly come up to her mouth, but Goldie couldn't resist the urge to lean away from him and offer whatever he wanted. His hand flew to the obsidian wand in the sheath at his hip.

"Where is he?"

"H-he just popped out to get us some pizza."

"Poof? Pizza? You're joking. What happened to Mr."—Foop made air quotes with his claws—"I-Don't-Touch-Processed-Foods-Because-They're-Filled-With-Artificial-Chemicals-That-Clog-My-Lines-And-Redirect-An-Uncomfortable-Portion-Of-My-Magic-Share-To-My-Arch-Nemesis-Whom-I-Still-Refuse-To-Call-By-His-Adult-Name?"

"The pizza's for me, his parents, and their godkid. He brought plenty of his own stuff when we settled in here for the week. But either way, he went out to fetch something. Y'all know how darn stubborn he gets about not being out too long in the cold, so we were going to come in from the hill and have lunch. If we can lure his papa in, that is. Cosmo loves the snow." Steadying her hand against the doorknob, Goldie forced a smile. "Well, you look real cute in that scarf and hat, Anti-Poof. We're over 150,000 now, so it is Anti-Poof officially, isn't it?"

"It is, unfortunately. And normally I would argue with you there about my cuteness, but then again, this is coming from you. You simply can't be coaxed to see the flaws in me, can you, sugarpie?"

Anti-Marigold elbowed her in the ribs. "I knit him that scarf and hat."

Goldie sighed and shut the door. Ducking Anti-Marigold's lighthearted attempt to knock the crown from above her head, she followed Foop to the table and leaned over the back of the nearest armchair. "Can I get y'all anything? There are blankets and board games around. The family's out on the back slopes, if you should feel inclined to join them."

"Thank you, but I'll manage myself in here just fine." Foop yanked off his scarf and flapped it in front of the sizzling fireplace. It, and his jacket, went on the available hooks. As Goldie watched, he crossed the living area, went into the kitchen, and thrust open a window. Cold air zipped across the room. As he stuck out his hands, he said, "Funny. I didn't see Wanda as the wisp-loving type."

No, maybe not a wisp-lover. A wisp-tolerator, perhaps, and for now that was the best they could hope for. Goldie twitched her lip. "Poof introduced me to his parents all good and proper last month. Sure, Cosmo already dotes on me like a daughter-in-law and that's really not a surprise, but even Wanda is willing ta give me a chance to win her over."

"So they left the two of you in here to kiss and cuddle while they spend the day on the hill."

Goldie set one hand to her hip, fingers biting through her yellow sweater to her skin. Normally she tied a knot at its front so her tan stomach flashed, but common sense warned her even more than the cold weather not to let Wanda catch her dressing that way. Her huge wings beat twice, ruffling Foop's papers, before they stilled. "Until we turn fool enough to trigger your honey-lock, sweetie, that's entirely our business and none of y'alls'."

Foop snapped his head in her direction. "It's my business if your boyfriend stands me up during tutoring hours to frolic about up here. Do you know how many pre-made tracking spells couldn't pick up any trace of him? Uncle Idiot's immune thanks to that stupid time key he swallowed way back when, and I didn't have Auntie Wanda's DNA. I had to sit down and run all the calculations to invent my own just to pin you down instead. Not the way I'd planned to spend my winter holiday, thank you. Whose idea was it to ditch me? His or yours?"

Goldie sat down on the couch, crossing her arms. "It's Poof's holiday too. His parents' latest godkid wished them a family trip. He just had to come."

"Oh, please." Foop pushed the window down until it clicked shut. "He's an Academy-bound fairy, beholden to the whims of no godkid. This was deliberate. Anyway, I saw Cosmo and Wanda out there as we passed over, and they're obviously one short for a family trip, so you can give that pretense up. How long until he's back?"

"Make yourself comfortable, sugar. I fear it could easily be half an hour." Goldie wished Anti-Marigold would find some better way to keep entertained than hovering over her shoulder. It would only take one text to give Poof even just a heads up, but if she made a move for her phone on the glass coffee table now, her counterpart would call her on it. Now she regretted falling behind in her wand updates. One of them had probably included a keypad on the screen.

Through tired eyes, she watched Foop stalk around the front two rooms of the cabin. Couch. Stove. Fireplace. Sink. Armchair. Fridge. Couch. At least when Foop was frustrated, his patience kicked in. Anti-Cosmo might blast lamps off side tables or tear pillows to shreds, but the worst damages one could expect Foop to wreak in this state were holes in his pockets from clenching his claws and a deep line worn into the floor as a result of his obsessive, grounded pacing. And perhaps a quick visit from Hiccup if things really got out of hand. The wood creaked with every other step.

"Well, uh…" Goldie bit her lip. "Er, apart from the obvious, how has the tutoring been going, Anti-Poof? I haven't heard my Poof mention your name all that often as of late."

"I have straight five stars in every class, so it's clearly working out brilliantly where I'm concerned," he snapped.

Anti-Marigold kicked her feet up on Goldie's shoulders and tapped her crown with one claw. "Don't mind his tongue, sheila. These last two years've of our cohort's Anti-Fairy studies have run the gent straight into the ground."

"You don't say…"

"He'll be right in another season. By the way, hon." Her legs tightened, her knees squeezing Goldie's cheeks. "Notice anything diff about me since last time?"

Goldie twisted and looked her counterpart up and down. The tone of her voice brimmed with I stayed out way past curfew and Mommy didn't catch me energy. Which was odd, since if Goldie remembered correctly, her mother was rarely sober enough (or around enough) to set a curfew for her two daughters anyway. Her usual black tank top and jeans had been exchanged for a purple pullover hoodie with a winged tiger on the front, and which was dangerously low cut even by Goldie's standards. Likewise, her shorts gave off the impression that she'd marked a line a few inches above each knee and then gone at the fabric with a weedpoofer while under sugary influence. An odd contrast with the falling snow outside, but then again, Anti-Fairies were bred for freezing weather. Despite the pullover, she'd tied Foop's bright green saucerbee jacket around her waist. It was torn and filthy, but that certainly wasn't new. Nor did the bold color go any better with the vaguely purple tint to her fur compared to the last time Goldie had seen her in it. Carefully, she said, "Are those new earrings? They, uh… match the stud in your lip quite nice."

Anti-Marigold frowned. The black and red moth wings rustled along her back. "Really? You don't see it?"

"Should I?"

"I just kinda thought it was obvious. Huh. Okay then. I see who got the observational skills between us. If I'd have to spell it out for you, just forget it, sheila."

The cabin door swung open as she finished. Goldie glanced over, half expecting to see either Wanda or Cosmo inches from diapause with their shivering godkid in tow. "Storm's picking up, but I'm back with the pizza," Poof said as he floated in, and then he spotted the Anti-Fairies and stopped. The door banged against the wall. The tails of his blue bandana whipped into his eyes. Snowflakes settled in his hair. "Oh. Foop. I wasn't expecting you to… find me."

"I can see that," Foop scoffed as he marched from the kitchen again. His fists trembled at his sides, and Goldie eyeballed both his wand and her own. He shut the door. "Now, what's the meaning of this, Poof? Spit it out."

Poof shifted the two pizza boxes in his arms, avoiding his gaze. "I like your hat."

"I knitted that," Anti-Marigold called. Poof glanced at her, then flinched hard and dropped his eyes to the pizzas again. A flicker in the energy field ran up Goldie's skin as his mental state shifted into quiet panic, and his aura signals from yellow to pink.

Still sparking, Foop followed his counterpart to the table behind the couch where Goldie sat sucking on her lip. "Well?"

"Something bothering you, Foop?"

"You can't just posé un lapin and expect me to let that go easily."

"Well, the gang invited me out," the fairy muttered. He dropped the pizza boxes and pulled out a slice laden with pineapple chunks. This, he set on a paper plate before wiping his fingertips on his parka. "Don't look at me. I thought you were staying with Anti-Goldie, and I don't know your number of your personal crystal ball since Cavatina-"

"Don't. Say his name. They can hear you. They always know." Foop paced another circle, tugging on one of the two main curls on his head. His claws snagged. "It's a miracle I don't get throttled by his mother every time I walk into the Council meetings as it is."

Goldie closed her eyes.

"Uh." Poof picked up the paper plate. "Anyway. I thought you were in Anti-Fairy World? We both know you don't get cell service there. Not even pixies get cell service in Anti-Fairy World without abra-bats. So… I thought you'd check my room, then figure out I wasn't around and you'd leave me a note that we could reschedule."

Foop grabbed a slice of pineapple pizza too. "And do you ever reschedule? Of your own volition? Poof, I'm being completely serious. This is the third time in six weeks you've dodged me. Your final is in a month. Are you trying to fail this semester? Do you even care?"

Poof knit his brows. "Not really. I only need a three-star average to play saucerbee."

Goldie winced. Foop slammed his hand on the first pizza box, brandishing the slice like a slimy sword. "If you fail your Anti-Fairy Ballroom class with an anti-fairy as your roommate and known tutor, how badly is that going to destroy my reputation?"

"Hey, if you're so worried about it, then here." Poof grabbed a purple notebook from on top of the bookshelf and tossed it at Foop (Foop, who was still holding his pizza, made no effort to catch it, so it skidded off the table). "You can finish my write-up for me. Then you won't have to nag me so much or risk your good name."

"That's not how this works. Dear Rhoswen, you're infuriating! I could just… just…"

His cheeks were flushed, his ears were twitching horribly, and a certain haunted look kept flashing across his face. Abandoning her phone on the coffee table with the empty hot chocolate mugs and breakfast dishes, Goldie stood and came behind Poof to run her hands up and down his arm. "Boys, let's see if we can't work out some nice understanding between us. Now, Poof. You know, you really oughta apologize for that nasty way you ran out on poor Foop like that. He's only bitter because he cares, sugar, and he's sure come a long way to find us."

"Sorry," he mumbled to the floor. He handed her the plate with the pineapple slice. "Next time, I'll leave the note saying we should reschedule."

"And Anti-Poof, why-! Shame on you for hollering at Poof the very second he's come in from braving the snow to bring us some pizza during winter holiday. I do believe y'all owe him an apology of your own."

"Forget it, blondie." Foop stuffed his own slice in his mouth and turned his attention to his sauce-stained claws. "I'm not interested in making nice with the soda-loving hippie."

"I don't drink soda," Poof said coolly, and Foop sniffed.

"You take peppermint. That's what it was, then."

Poof's fingers twitched. "Look, some people pace when they're stressed, and I like candy canes. I've been trying to quit and you know it. Can you drop it already?"

This was going nowhere but down. Thinking fast, Goldie stepped out from behind Poof and took up Foop's hand with her free one. "Oh, doll. You can't manage just one apology? Not even for me?"

The anti-fairy hesitated, running his thumb across her knuckles. The apple bobbed in his throat. He looked away. "Fine. I'm terribly sorry for yelling at your boyfriend when he's being a stupid imbecile. I ought to remember that between the two of us, I'm the one who got the brrrains."

Anti-Marigold, still sitting on the back of the couch, raised her hand. "So if I acted cute as whenever I wanted something, would y'all start doing nice stuff for me?"

"Either way, we're all here now, and I brought the books. The write-up assignment was so simple I had mine finished before holiday, but may I remind you, Tarrow dance final in a month." Foop looked back and forth between both Fairies, who had gone stiff and silent. "How are you faring with that anyway? Last I checked in, you were arguing over the difference between Dayfry's step and the rabbit's foot."

Goldie and Poof remained stiff and silent, Goldie with her pizza slice in her mouth. Anti-Marigold, still clinging to the back of the couch with her legs, leaned over and draped her arm around Foop's shoulders. She lifted a hand to her mouth and faux whispered, "I don't think they've practiced outside of class at all, mate."

Foop's nose twitched. "However do you stand existing in the same room as yourselves? Right then!" He clapped once, sharply, loud. Goldie jumped, though Poof continued hovering with a scowl where he was. "The ceiling's plenty high enough. We'll clear a space here and get on with it. There's no better time for getting things done than holiday."

Goldie, still chewing, took a step towards Poof. Her counterpart flicked her wand and (after slapping her wand with the heel of her hand when it stalled and sputtered) pushed all the furniture several paces closer to the walls. Poof held one finger Foop's way.

"Eeeexcuse us for a second."

With that, he took Goldie's elbow and guided her through the kitchen and all the way back to the bathroom. Good plan. Not only was it against Da Rules for anyone to poof into indoor waste relieving areas uninvited, but it was also far enough away, hopefully, that even Anti-Fairy ears wouldn't pick up on their muttered conversation. Once inside, Poof dropped her arm and flopped against the wall. For the first time since he'd strolled into the cabin, his wings stilled.

"Okay. Did he tell you anything about how he found us?"

Goldie shrugged. She took another bite of pizza, and after she'd swallowed, she said, "He told me the default tracking spells were struggling, so he went and invented a new modifier."

"Of course he did. He's like a virus- every time I find a new way to block him out, he just gets stronger." Poof took her hands and checked her arms over. He clucked his tongue. "Geez, he didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Not a lick," she assured him. She moved one hand to his cheek. "He was awful upset, but he only paced back and forth like he does. I sat on the couch."

"Well, that's good. I never would've forgiven myself if he was chasing after me and then found you instead and decided to, I dunno, force himself on you or something? You're not worth pizza." He paused. "Wait, that doesn't sound right. Uh. I just mean, going for pizza isn't worth it if you got hurt. You're not worth anything. Erm, wait…"

"I know what ya mean, hon." Idly, Goldie let her thoughts run back to Foop. She'd be lying if she said she didn't find him sort of… interesting, but she hardly considered that Rhoswen syndrome. He was a drake, and drakes were her specialty. Since she'd already staked his counterpart as part of her territory, it seemed only natural to daydream of comparing them. Either way, the thought of Foop approaching her with the offer of frisking about while they waited for Poof to show made her smirk. She'd almost pay just to see him do it with his accent and a completely straight face.

Poof slid his headband down his face and pressed it to his lips. "And he brought Anti-Goldie. Why did he bring Anti-Goldie?"

Goldie shrugged her wings. "Well, she is his girlfriend…"

"No, that's Anti-Coriander, officially. That doctor-in-training who's usually in scrubs that his parents parade about every time they swing by to have lunch with mine? She's a Leaves year and he's a Breath, and it's supposed to mean true love or something according to their star charts, I dunno." Unsatisfied, Poof fidgeted with the zipper on his coat. "Anyway, that's who everyone says he's supposed to be with. The Anti-Fairies are already calling her their princess. Anti-Goldie's just his friend. I think." He clucked his tongue again. "But her eyes used to be red, you know. They're bright blue now."

"They're…" Goldie's own eyes, equally bright blue, widened as his words clicked in. She felt her cheeks crimson, and the mirror confirmed it. "Oh my dust, you're right. She must've got it off him. Did we do that?"

"Well, not if he didn't say so. We've been careful, right? Or am I missing something? We were like, super careful. The most careful people. There's no way they should've honey-locked." He looked at her pointedly. "So he doesn't know?"

"Um. He didn't say if he knows we did it, but he is pretty smart-"

"If he didn't say it, he doesn't know. Trust me on that- we're both bad with secrets. Still, ugh. Give me a freaking core attack with something fun like Christmas right around the corner, why don't you? I mean, with Finley acting as dominant gyne in our cohort dorm, I'm subordinate so it's not like I can even get pregnant anyway, but still I thought for a second he might… I… I…" Poof clenched his fingers in his hair, squeezing his eyelids shut. "Dust, I need my peppermint so bad. I've gotta take a puff."

Goldie stepped forward and touched her fingers to his chest. "Sugar, you want to quit, remember?"

Poof sneered at nothingness, focusing on an empty point in space over her head as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. Each freckle on his face gleamed like a soft brown star. "Yeah, well. Let's go face the music. Foop's right. We haven't been practicing that dance. And if I fail this year, Mom will prob'ly clip my wings."

When they returned to the living area, they found Foop and Anti-Marigold beneath the kitchen archway, leaning their heads together. So deep in whispered conversation were they, Poof skimmed all the way to the table to grab Goldie another slice of pineapple pizza before they jumped and jerked around.

"The dance," Foop blurted. "We were just talking about the Tarrow dance. Let's get on that. You two can sit there on the couch. Yes, there's good. Kel- I mean… Anti-Marigold, if you would join me in my demonstration?"

She didn't move. "Y'all said I wasn't gonna have to dance."

Foop curled his lip. "That wasn't meant to be taken literally."

"Well, it was."

"I deliberately went out of my way to pick you up when you knew perfectly well I was heading out here to help them with their Tarrow. Where did you think this was going?"

"I dunno? Y'all wanted to hang out? Have someone watch your back if y'all switch up or otherwise go wandering this messy planet in the mid of a snowstorm?" Anti-Marigold leaned against the curve of the arch. "Aw, mate, y'all both know I hate when this stuff's in front of people. Shouldn't Anti-Coriander be doing it with you?"

With a warning glance at Poof and Goldie that prompted both of them to drop their eyes to their laps, Foop lay his arm around Anti-Marigold's shoulder and turned their backs to the couch. "Kelsia," Goldie heard him murmur, but the rest was lost.

"So," she said, turning to Poof. "That Lance-A-Lotta pizza, huh? Talk about places that deliver to genie lamps and wisp burrows, but not to Delkian mountaintops when the weather report threatens snow."

"Hey, I'm just glad they have this many chains away from Earth and Fairy World. Okay, I'm so not trying to be biased, but it doesn't even look that good." He reached for another piece and held it out to her. "Look how burned it is on the bottom. It's so stiff, it hardly flops."

"Really?"

Poof flapped the slice up and down three times, then froze as pineapple and a glob of sauce landed on the couch near her leg. Goldie stifled a giggle. Wiping it away with her hand, she said, "If it's that bad, why do you keep buying it?"

"Because they're cheap and I was hungry and impatient to get back," Poof insisted. He dropped the slice back in the box and grabbed for the fruit bowl instead.

Goldie rolled her eyes. "Sugar, you're always hungry. When we had our first real kiss, you stopped in the middle of it to-"

"No. Don't remind me." Poof lay a finger over his lips and got up on his knees to reach the bowl. "Listen, bossy lady. Saucerbee, magic, and always flying instead of walking takes a lot of energy out of me. I get hungry fast. And when you coat your lips with that glossy fruit stuff, it makes me even more hungry."

Anti-Marigold's voice cut through then with a hissing, "Oh, and I bet y'all think we'll just stroll up willy-nilly to the Castle without anyone noticing I'm a lowly anti-wisp gone iris. Which, by the way, thanks."

Out of the corner of her eye, Goldie watched Foop's hands go from supporting her counterpart beneath the wings to clasping her shoulders. His muscles tensed, but they relaxed again before he could decide to shake her back and forth. He chose to shake his head instead and leaned forward to murmur something else in her ear.

"Thanks," Goldie said, quickly turning away and grasping her boyfriend's knee. Poof perked up at once. He swallowed his bite of apple.

"Thank me for the what now?"

"Letting, er, Anti-Poof help us with our dance this afternoon. I know this isn't what you had planned."

"Good old Foop," he said, with neither sarcasm nor sincerity in his voice.

A blurring sensation like frozen candle wax began to trickle between her wings, humming with magic. Goldie glanced towards the anti-fairies again to find Anti-Marigold pressing her fingertips to Foop's temples. A green glow flickered around her wrists. After a very long silence, during which Goldie had no idea where to look, the anti-will o' the wisp released him.

"You got it?" Foop whispered, and Anti-Marigold twisted her lips into a smile.

"Easy as, mate."

Foop turned then suddenly, and Goldie threw her gaze in the direction of the bookshelf. "Terribly sorry," he said, "but then again, I'm not really. It serves you right for standing me up back at the dorm."

"Righto." Anti-Marigold mimed curtsying to him as she spoke, and Foop returned her gesture with a deep bow, but she addressed her words towards Poof and Goldie. "The Tarrow celebration is held annually in the Blue Castle courtyard on Naming Day afternoon, following the New Year trellis decorating, and it's like the epitome of grace, dignity, and refinement."

"All three of those words mean exactly the same thing," Poof said, finally shrugging out of his heavy parka. His wings buzzed.

Goldie arched her eyebrows. "Professor Cherrywell made it sound like-"

"For all his limited virtues, Cherrywell does make a thorough mockery of our traditions." Foop reached for Anti-Marigold's hand and walked her through a simple twirl and dip without breaking contact with Goldie's eyes. "Nothing about it is intended to be alluringly provocative or, as you Fairies put it, sexy."

The image of tiny Foop approaching her while Poof was fetching the pizza popped again into her mind, with him hovering there wringing his hands and asking in a no-nonsense way with his head tilted back to look up at her eyes, "Would you care to be alluringly provocative and/or sexy with me?" Goldie bit her lip to keep her snickers in.

"There was seriously nothing about watching those video clips that was sexy to you?" Poof asked, and Goldie elbowed him good-naturedly in the side. "Huh. Well, I guess we are opposites."

"It does do a fair job of making us look hot," Anti-Marigold said from where Foop had dipped her and not yet pulled her up.

Foop huffed through his nose and did, then, yank her back to her feet. "It's a serious tradition to honor our cultural beliefs, and as long as I'm alive, I won't have it reduced to the degrading fantasies of hormonal adolescents. I for one think Cherrywell has no place teaching this class. My father could have done a better job of it - my mother could have done a better job of it - but then again, I don't want to be one of those Anti-Fairies. Goldie? Poof? Show us what you've planned so far."

The two Fairies glanced at one another. Poof scratched behind his neck. He set the apple core aside. They stood. Goldie extended her hand, and he took it.

"Uh, well, you just kind of…"

"Yes, it's a rather…"

Poof took two steps and immediately tripped over his ever-untied shoelaces. Recovering fast, he twirled Goldie under his arm. She executed that well enough, extending her hand low behind her as he let her dip. Poof balanced her weight by leaning back. Then he brought her towards him again, and she spun so her wings rustled across his chest. Easy. But as Goldie watched, his forehead scrunched.

"Wait. Uh, that's not right."

"That's a rather poor attempt at an anti-fairy courtship dance," Foop said patiently as the two untangled themselves. He'd put his hand up to block his mouth, ears down as though even with his fingers in the way, he didn't want his constant echolocation to pick up any trace of them.

"Different style," Anti-Marigold agreed, holding a knuckle in front of her own mouth. "Too much body contact. Here, we'll show y'all both again. C'mon, Nebs."

"Don't call me that." Still, he let her drag her by his limp wrist to the center of the room, where everything except the fuzzy rug had been cleared away.

"This is how y'all hold a guy in the second half of a basic Tarrow." Anti-Marigold interlaced her fingers with Foop's and held them between their chests. "And if y'all weren't paying attention in class, y'all'll want to now, because the earlier zodiac sign always leads. I betcha Cherry's gonna ask that on the test."

"Love is the universal leader," Foop said, staring hard at Anti-Marigold as she wrestled with his fingers. "And Leaves is at the end of the calendar cycle, meaning those born in that year always follow. So I really don't know why you're trying to dip me right now."

"Dunno, mate. Y'all were there?"

"Anyhow. As you can see, we release one hand and turn apart, I let go, she spins towards me again" - as Anti-Marigold followed his words, Foop stretched one arm across towards her waist and braced the other beneath her back to let her dip. "That's Tarrow. Her arm goes behind me, like so. Finish tying your laces, Poof, and then prove to me that you can actually follow along."

Poof held Goldie's hands again and followed each step as the Anti-Fairies talked them through. "Brilliant," Foop said as they completed the dip. "We actually might get out of here at a reasonable hour tonight after all."

"How delightful," Goldie murmured behind her teeth. Louder, as Foop's ears twitched in her direction, she said, "Your patience is appreciated. All these steps are ever so overwhelming. How do you remember?"

"Careful study, the way I approach everything. It's really just the speed and flow we'll ensure you get down. Tarrow dances are fluid, confident, and energetic." Foop slapped the edge of his hand against his palm with each item he listed, his mustache twitching. "The true sign of mastery is evident from the very beginning, as each participant dances while facing apart. Just hoping you get randomly lucky and your partner will drag you along and pull your weight is not good enough. You have to be skilled as an individual to function as a team. Even without looking over your shoulder, your movements must be in sync at all times."

Anti-Marigold nodded and used her thumb to push up her crown. "Y'all take your marching orders from the music, mates. Always mind your cues. If your partner heads on to the next step without ya, it's all over."

Goldie and Poof glanced at one another again. Apparently, there really was a bit more to this Tarrow dancing than swaying your hips and acting flirty.

Foop twirled his wand and exchanged his dark sweater for a ruffled shirt that shimmered with gold sequins. It was the lowest-cut thing she remembered ever seeing him in, and Goldie started at all the plum-colored freckles across his chest. A white band wrapped around his waist, matching with his shoes and the puffy bow tie on his neck. His fist tightened around his wand for a long moment before he decided to sheath it. "Yellow," he said, "is the color of the Year of Breath. The amateur's mistake is to grab the first thing they find on the shelves and call that good enough. This isn't a real shirt I'm wearing now. It's actually a leotard. It's smooth and it won't come loose or wrinkle."

"A leotard?" Poof snapped his eyes away from the fruit bowl. "I was just going to throw on a dark brown jacket like that one I wore way back at the starshine cotillion."

"You won't if you want to pass dress code requirements. Seriously, did you even read the class syllabus?" Foop shook his head and waved a hand in Anti-Marigold's general direction. "See to Goldie. The catalog's in my stuff. I'll set some music, and we'll run them through our dance." With that, he grabbed his Skullphone and threw himself into the armchair against the wall.

"Sure thing, mate." Anti-Marigold rifled through the stack Foop had dropped on the table until she found the magazine in question near the bottom. This, she presented to Goldie. "Pick a style, and I'll model it so y'all can see how it looks."

It sounded like a good plan, but Goldie still winced when she sat on the couch and turned to the first page. The second, third, and fourth weren't much more promising. As Poof leaned over her shoulder, she peeked at her counterpart again. "My, do you have anything a bit less revealing in the…" She made a… rather vague gesture with her hand. "I don't think I'll feel near so self-conscious dancing if I can just be a bit more covered."

"Really?" Poof pointed at an image of a rhinestone-splattered dress with a thin strip of nothingness that ran from the chest down to the navel. "I think you'd wow the class in that. I mean, if I were a damsel, that's what I'd be dancing in."

Anti-Marigold tapped her teeth with one claw. "There's a neat one on the last page with lots of fringe dangling around the knee area. You might give that a try, sheila. It's got a cut that reveals the waist and runs up the torso, but only on one side and it's not really so bad. Also, there's only one sleeve and you'll have the other arm full exposed, so you may wanna wear a strapless bra that day- I can lend you one of mine. But hey. Close enough."

"How's this one?" Goldie asked, turning the catalog around. Anti-Marigold leaned forward, then nodded in a sagely way.

"That's a right nice one for covering up in the bust, but the back is exposed almost all the way down. A little prone to flashing tail, if y'all know what I mean. Not my type. But if you want it-"

"Never mind." Pressing her lips together, Goldie flipped to the end of the selection. The dress her counterpart had suggested was easy to identify with its waist cut and missing sleeve. Even if it was mostly fringe down there and probably wouldn't cover much when she moved, it did reach pretty low. That would have to do. She showed the picture to Anti-Marigold, who nodded and outfitted herself accordingly with a foop.

"Year of Leaves," she said unnecessarily, tugging a misplaced elastic below her breasts. "That's green, green, and green again. But, you can range from the dark foresty stuff to seafoam and turquoise, so really, it's not a bad year to be born."

"I guess," Goldie muttered, watching her fidget with a couple of straps in the back.

Anti-Marigold followed her eyes. "Oh. The tricky part is, most of these dresses are designed for batty wings. We've gotta make a couple of adjustments here and there. Anti-Poof? Hey, Foop? Or Hiccup, if y'all decided to switch the second I wasn't watching. I'm gonna need one of y'all to get this last tie undone."

"In a minute," he called from his chair. "Keep in mind that your wand is also an option."

"Are you for real, mate? I already put it down, and now y'all want me to pick it up again? Crikey, chivalry really is dead."

"I can help." Poof hopped to his wings and circled behind Anti-Marigold. As the two of them worked to situate her moth wings properly, Goldie continued to study her counterpart's dress. It wasn't too bad, really… If only she didn't have to show so much hip. The gash curled from beneath the wings around to the stomach area. Anti-Marigold's light blue fur went well with the dark green of her dress, but imagining pale skin in its place made Goldie squirm her shoulders.

If it were only in front of Poof and Foop, she could handle that. They already liked her (Foop more than he would ever admit, she was sure) and teasing them could be a little fun. But what about the other kids in class? Even after a whole semester she hardly knew any of them by name, and if they discreetly snapped pictures of her wearing that… Goldie fiddled with a loose thread of her sweater. Exposing a bit of stomach when she wanted to, well… that felt like a different stadium entirely from flashing all that leg.

Poof finished with Anti-Marigold and whirred back to the couch. "Well, one thing's for sure. My leotard should have a lot less ribbons and snaps to figure out."

"It does look awfully pretty on her, don't you think so?"

"Awfully." He reached his arm behind her. Goldie expected him to take her shoulder and pull her closer, but his fingers crawled instead across the table to the last two apples in the fruit bowl. His hand closed over a green one. "And even though you're her opposite, I'm sure it'll flatter you too."

Okay. Maybe food had his attention right now, but it was still a nice compliment. Goldie squeezed his hand in thanks. He bumped her knee with his own.

Quick, spicy music began to ripple overhead. It continued for several bars, then cut off abruptly. Foop returned, holding his Skullphone, which he passed off to Poof. "Press 'Play' when I request it. And don't touch anything else."

Poof saluted, hand raised near his cheek. With that, Foop and Anti-Marigold moved to the middle of the room and planted their feet. They checked one another over, then turned their backs. Wings bumped. After shifting accordingly, they each set their hands to their hips. Foop cleared his throat.

"All right, Poof. You may start it now." A smirk crept over his face. "I believe some video recording may be in order. I expect you'll be too enraptured to take notes."

Poof glanced at Goldie, who shrugged and grabbed her own phone from the coffee table to act as a camera. Then the music kicked in, fast and deliberate, and so did the dance.

You make me wallow, you make me wait. But I'mma show you we were meant to be fate.

As Foop had promised, neither of the pair looked at one another as they began. Yet they moved in sync, sliding towards their counterparts on the couch and then away. With each movement, they swung their arms and snapped their fingers. How they managed to do that with claws was another wonder altogether.

No one to stop us, no one to care. You'll try to catch me when I'm already there.

Anti-Marigold stretched her arm to the left, her hand facing back. Foop grasped it with his own and pulled her in front of him. When he let go, they continued without missing a beat, hips bouncing and hands upturned. Each sway sent the fringe on Anti-Marigold's dress flashing left and right. Their movements shifted from flowing side to side to forward and back. Bodies nearly touched like waves. Arms flicked up or sideways occasionally, always mimicked in the opposite direction by the other partner. "I can feel the crash and my future bloody nose already," Poof muttered in her ear. Goldie stifled a snort.

"I can't imagine we'll be going fast enough for that to be a problem."

He pressed his fingers to his face. "Still, if it does happen, I'd rather me than you."

"I think I'm more likely to trip over your leg."

"Seriously, how do they do that?"

Shamelessly, Goldie thought with a spark of jealousy as Anti-Marigold lay her palm against Foop's bare chest. He took her wrist and when he dipped her, she leaned back so far, her wings crumpled and her black pigtails scraped the floor.

I'd give you my soul if you would give me a day. Ain't no good luck charm can keep me away.

With a one-handed tug, Foop drew Anti-Marigold back to her feet and twirled her around. They split in opposite directions, facing one another and sliding backwards without breaking eye contact.

Douse me in clover and add a horseshoe. It's only with you gone that I could feel blue.

Anti-Marigold raised her hand near her shoulder, palm facing out; as Foop approached, he pushed against it hard enough to spin her around. He lifted his arms as she fell into place against him. As her hands ran down his torso, his traced through her hair. One fist back to the hip- two simultaneous spins- A cold, burning stone settled in Goldie's stomach as the anti-fairies, swaying again, moved apart. Abruptly, she ended the recording and let her phone fall to her lap. She'd always been the bright one. The focused one. When she didn't know the answer to a question, she referred to her notes. If her notes didn't cover the topic thoroughly enough, she turned to the library instead. With time and patience, an answer could always be found.

Dancing was a world she did not know how to navigate.

If we're green or we're pink, it don't matter to me. Don't need a star to decide- whether we're meant to be.

The Anti-Fairies had moved to the armchair where Foop had been picking out their music earlier. To Goldie's surprise, he sat down and flipped Anti-Marigold over his lap. As she came up, she yanked him from the seat and spun him towards the couch. Poof tucked his legs closer and Goldie pulled hers up entirely.

We were fated to dance, and this whole time it's been bliss. Would it be too much to ask if I borrowed your kiss?

Foop crouched and laced his fingers together as Anti-Marigold twirled and sprang across the floor towards him. When her foot landed in his hands, he kicked off and launched her towards the ceiling. She backflipped. Metal flashed in her hand.

"Oh my stars, she's got a knife!" Goldie yelped, covering her eyes. But she couldn't resist peeking through her fingers. Foop's hand darted to the sheath at his left hip. Before anyone could stop him, he whipped out a silver blade of his own. It went up just as Anti-Marigold came crashing down. She had both fists around the hilt of her knife, aiming for the throat he'd exposed by tilting back his head. Poof shouted. Goldie fumbled for her wand. The anti-fairies collided and simultaneously burst into plumes of purple smoke. Both Poof and Goldie broke into a fit of coughing. When it cleared, Foop was holding Anti-Marigold above his head by just one hand, his palm flat against her torso. Awfully high near her chest, actually, although somehow, wings spread and his arm tilted slightly back, she managed to stay balanced. He turned his stare Poof's way.

"That," he said, plopping the anti-wisp to the ground again, "is a traditional Tarrow dance. You can switch the music off now."

"You oughta see his parents do theirs next year," Anti-Marigold supplied. With a click of a button, her knife withdrew inside the handle of her wand. She flipped it in her hand, then sheathed it. Then her gaze dropped to Foop's fingers, which hadn't come off her chest. "Uh. Anti-Wanda's quick as, and Anti-Cosmo does his whole 'Channeler of Sunnie' Water year thing with the bubbles. Beauty."

"My, does it hurt?" Goldie took her hands from her face. "Gettin' stabbed at that kind of speed? Regenerating?"

Foop tightened his lips in a grim manner. He started for the table, and Goldie couldn't help but blink when he dragged Anti-Marigold after him by the breast. Her counterpart didn't look any less stunned, but he didn't seem to notice. Returning his own blade to wand form, he fooped into his dark blue sweater vest and black undershirt again. "Oh, immeasurably. But, that's the beauty of the thing. Sacrifice in exchange for art."

"You get used to it," Anti-Marigold agreed. Her voice squeaked. "Uh… Nebula?"

"What?" He turned back towards her for the first time. "Something wrong? And seriously, let go of my hand. We're done."

"Um." Anti-Marigold tried to take a step backwards. Foop went with her. His eyes went down his arm. The blood went up in his cheeks. Hers too. "Whoops," she said. "I think we accidentally, uh…"

"Oh gods, you can't be serious." Foop tried to yank his hand away. It didn't work. Goldie had been too embarrassed to look closely, but when she glanced at them again, she realized that Foop's hand… wasn't… there anymore.

Her hands shot to her mouth. Up to the wrist, Foop's hand wasn't there anymore. It was literally fused inside her counterpart.

"I told you! You shoulda done this with Anti-Coriander!"

"Oh, this is not my fault." Foop wedged his shoe against her stomach and wrenched his arm back once again. "Why didn't you wait to regenerate until I was done? I was leading. It was my right to be first."

"I did wait!" Anti-Marigold inhaled. Her wings quivered. She bowed her head. "I thought I did. I don't- I don't like dancing. I told you, mate."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Foop's cheeks had turned bright pink by this point. "It's fine. Calm down. I can fix this. Kelsia, don't start face-leaking on me."

"Maybe y'all should call Anti-Coriander. She's good with surgeries-"

"I am not telling Anti-Coriander about this."

Poof grinned like a pixie with animal crackers in his alphabet soup as the pair broke into an argument about which one of them was to blame. Goldie coughed into her hands. "Uh. Does this happen often?"

"No!" they both screeched, turning even pinker. Goldie hadn't realized furry Anti-Fairies could flush like that. Foop seconded this with a furious, "Absolutely, definitely not!" He groped at the sheath on his right side for his wand, snagged it, flicked out the knife blade, and brought it to his wrist.

"Wait, I, uh…" Anti-Marigold deflected his hand. "We both know that ain't gonna work and it's just gonna hurt both of us. We're sharing the body and we're sharing pain."

"Well, what do you expect me to do to correct this issue, then?"

"You know."

"No!" Foop picked up his pacing again, forcing her to stumble after him. He spat a few curse words that Goldie didn't recognize as he circled the fuzzy rug. "This is fine. We'll just hide it for the rest of our lives until they invent a cure."

"That ain't a real good option there, mate."

"Or you can let me cut the hand off. Just give it back to me the next time you regenerate. I'll get by without it. It's fine."

Anti-Marigold threw back her head and groaned, "That's not how regeneration works."

"How does it work, then?"

"Crikey, I dunno, mate. You're the nerd. All I know is that if we're not in position before we try undoing it, we'll just keep regenerating in the same body from now on. It's gonna suck."

"Can we help?" Poof asked, starting to get up, but both Anti-Fairies whirled on him.

"No!"

Foop turned back to Anti-Marigold. "Brace yourself, darling. It may hurt us both, but I'm going to cut if off. It really is the best course of action." He paused, pursing his lips. His snaggletooth flashed. Then he lowered his voice. "Please."

Anti-Marigold shook her head, black pigtails lashing. "Foop, I ain't gonna stand here for twenty minutes as y'all saw off your hand and cry like a wee baby. Plus, what're y'all gonna tell your parents if you come home without it? Your Hiccup side can keep y'all's mouth shut, but the Foop side of ya sure as goshdarn can't. You know ya'll'll let something slip to the High C. and C. and they're gonna think we… Y'know. The 'k' word."

He coughed. "Well, it would appear that we sort of did."

"You're disgusting." She narrowed her eyes. "And despite your nerves, y'all're enjoying this too much. Don't y'all lie ta me. I can feel the fingers wiggling."

His nostrils flared. The jutting fang flashed again. Foop drew himself up to his full height, which, while not very impressive, still put him firmly above Goldie's counterpart. "Well, I never denied I was hormonal, and it's not like you normally let me touch you there. Anti-Marigold, I'm a man of science and this is a rare opportunity. I'm curious."

Goldie finally felt herself blushing. Poof started to whistle and adjust his arms, looking anywhere besides… everybody.

"That's it." Anti-Marigold smashed her foot down on Foop's and hollered, "Hiccup! Move your sorry tail out here right now before I feed y'all to the dingo-bats! It's Kelsia."

Foop snapped to attention. Or more specifically, Hiccup did. Goldie recognized him instantly by the way his back straightened, and his ears flicked up. His fist loosened, dropping the wand to the floor with a clatter. The blade retracted. Hiccup came in grinning his signature cheerful grin, both fangs shyly showing in the corners of his mouth. The grin disappeared as he took in his surroundings. First the cabin. Then the Fairies. Then the arm. He looked down and cocked his head.

"Oh. Um. Anti-Marigold, I thought we agreed that if Foop lit your eyes, you'd let me kiff-tie with you before he did. Yes, I'm quite sure we agreed. In fact, I think you promised."

"Well, something came up." Anti-Marigold refused to look at him, directing her attention to the books on the table. "It's not exactly a real kiff-tie anyway. Just fix it."

"Right here?" Hiccup tilted his head the other way. "We can if you want to, but then Poof and Goldie will see. It's my understanding that doing that would embarrass you."

Goldie curled her toes. Oh. Uh. Oh dear.

Anti-Marigold's eyes squeezed shut. "I don't know, mate. Take me to the back someplace we're alone, an' let's get this over with. I've never done this before either. You're the prince. Take command or something."

Hiccup studied her with a thoughtful frown. "Surely you'd rather have Foop do this for you, though? Ah, I mean no offense, you see, and I know we have kissed before, but you're really not my type. I prefer bad boys."

"Uh." Poof raised his hand. "Is this going somewhere private? Should we step out?"

Neither Anti-Fairy appeared to hear him. "Hiccup," Anti-Marigold pleaded with her voice constricting, "it's just one li'l nibble, mate."

Hiccup poked the toe of his white dancing shoe into the ground. "Ah, please don't call me your mate. It suggests implications I don't care for, even though I do like you a little bit. This hurts my feelings. You promised I could be first."

Anti-Marigold glanced over at the two Fairies on the couch, who had interlaced their fingers and were both watching, unmoving, silent. Her fur had always been tinted slightly purple, but now there was no argument about it. She raised one hand to cover her flushing cheek. "It didn't mean anything, Puck. It was an accident. Y'all can be first if we ever do it for real, I guess. Let's head to the back. Poof and Goldie Prime don't need to hear this stuff."

She made an attempt to move past him towards the hallway, but Hiccup kept his feet stubbornly planted, as though he'd clenched his toes in the fuzzy white rug through his shoes. "Ooh! I don't want you to see my yarn. We're not that, ah, intimate yet, you see."

"Well, technically it's both our yarn right now. Come on. We're already like, sharing blood and magic the way it is. You could probs light someone's eyes like this." Anti-Marigold nudged him with her knee. "Hey. Can you please just do it my way now, and we can talk about how mad y'are later?"

"Oh, I don't get mad. Wrath is a sin." Hiccup fingered the skull-shaped buckle on the front of his belt. "Could we try using my knife to free my hand from your, ah, chest? I'll give your skin back to you later."

"No."

Goldie bit her lip. Like alter, like alter, apparently. Well, that made sense. Technically, they were the same brain. Just... different viewpoints, or something. Goldie really wasn't sure, and had never bothered to investigate the issue very closely.

Hiccup tried to pull away, his wings and feet beginning to get restless. His ears flicked up and down. "I know it will hurt me, and you, and maybe we'll have to take you to the Breath Temple for healing, but, ah, then we won't have to make out, you see."

"Untying our weaves isn't making out!" Anti-Marigold pressed her fingertips against her forehead. Her wings quivered behind her. "Puck, we're in front of these guys. Don't tell them that."

Hiccup just looked at her for a puzzled second. "Oh. Is it a secret? You should have told me it was a secret. When I need help, I ask questions. But, well, after we cut my hand free and you start bleeding, I'm willing to hiccup us back to the cloudlands on my rich daddy's credit card. Did Foop bring my wand?" He touched the sheath on the left side of his body. Empty.

Anti-Marigold looked back at him. Then she looked over at the couch. She ran one hand through her black hair, clenching it at the front. "I'm so sorry y'all have to see this," she told Goldie and Poof, and sounded truly apologetic. "I really never do this, but this is awkward as, and I'm in a huge rush and don't wanna get stabbed for no reason. Y'all know how it is. Never, ever do this. Always get consent first. I'm a bad role model."

Goldie opened her mouth, and Poof tensed his wings, but before either of them could say anything, Anti-Marigold lunged at the left side of Hiccup's neck with her mouth. Her teeth clamped. "Hey," he cried, stumbling towards the fireplace. He writhed against her, but Anti-Marigold held his arm with both hands. "Stop it," he protested next. "That's not fair! You're cheating!"

Anti-Marigold pulled away from his neck. As an anti-will o' the wisp, she didn't have sharp fangs. Her teeth were flat, and Goldie really wasn't sure if they'd been effective at nipping Hiccup's skin. Maybe it didn't matter. He pushed her face away, clutching his neck and gaping like a puppy on a hot stove.

"Hey," he said again, this time with his eyes watering. Then he blinked hard. His eyes narrowed. "Fine. Let's go finish it. But that was very mean, and you still broke your promise."

She swiped her tongue around her lips and fixed him with a deadpan stare that made him twitch. "Work with me here, mate. Look, I don't want this either, and I'll make it up to y'all later, I promise. But, we can't jist stay like this for the rest of the night. I mean, what would Cosmo and Wanda say? You want them to find us like this? You wanna fall asleep like this? You want them to think we did it on purpose?"

Hiccup shook his head rapidly. With a surprising amount of grace and maturity for a young drake whose hand was stuffed just beneath a damsel's breasts, he scooped Anti-Marigold to his shoulder. After snorting once, he simply wandered across the kitchen and down the far hall. The bathroom door shut and locked. There were two seconds of silence, followed by a loud, "Hey, don't pin me! Get off! You know I hate small spaces!"

"Oh my dust," Goldie managed when a minute had passed and they hadn't returned. She clenched her knees together. "Um. Th-that happened. That actually… happened. I didn't think that was actually going to happen. Uh, should we do something about this? I mean, are we really just gonna let them hang out alone doing, ah, whatever back there? I mean, we don't know where this is going. I know it's, well, Anti-Fairy migration season and all, but if Cosmo and Wanda come back with their innocent li'l godkid-"

"Let's just…" Poof put his hands over his ears. "Not. Talk. Right now. And we'll deal with this later." His smirk was gone. Sweat clumped along his forehead, gathering at his headband. "So, uh, can you still pick up on their auras in the energy field?"

"Not from here. They're out of my range. You can?"

"Let's just say that I'm gonna walk over here." He got up from the couch and retreated to the cabin's front door without taking his hands off his temples or opening his eyes. Goldie busied herself by fiddling with the phone in her lap. Then Poof said, "This is my fault. I just know it."

Goldie raised her eyes to the hallway. "Hm?"

"I mean, Foop and I have equal shares of the magic in the Nebulas energy pool. Did I tell you that's what we're calling it, Nebulas? We decided that a while ago. Anyway, I don't know about Poppy - er, Dame Poof - but I know that me and Foop, our crowns float at the same height. We're synced up closer than most Fairies are. This is because I was touching your boobs that one time. That's why they got stuck there, and now they're both back there… cuddling… and they don't want to be, and it makes my tummy hurt. I shouldn't have done it. We shouldn't have done any of that at all."

"Poof." Goldie stuffed the phone in the pocket of her skirt. Lifting her wings, she floated over to him. "I don't think the core-sync works like that, hon. Foop just caught her with his hand. It was part of their practiced dance. It's not your fault it happened ta be the spot their molecules got tied, sugarplum."

"Ugh." He raked his fingernails down his cheeks and turned his gaze to the ceiling. "I hate finding out my actions have consequences. Oh dust, I want my peppermint. I really need my peppermint. I'm trying so hard, and I was doing so good until today, but I want it. Smoof, I'm a wreck."

She pondered that for a minute, then picked up his hand. "Do you wish we hadn't done it?"

Poof stared at her, like he wasn't entirely focused, and Goldie wondered if even over here by the door, he could still pick up on Hiccup and Anti-Marigold at the edge of his senses. A light whimper slipped through his lips. Still clutching her hand in his fist, he eased down the wall. "I- Goldie, I- I mean, it's not you. Don't feel bad. I like you. I liked sharing magic with you. But we probably shouldn't do it again. I mean, what if I get pregnant next time? It could happen. We can't raise a baby. We're in school. Your mom might have had her first at this age and everything turned out fine, because she wasn't in school and there were other wisps to help raise him, but my mom and dad would twist my wings in a knot if they found out I did something like this behind their backs. I can't keep that kind of secret. Goldie, we're 150,000. We shouldn't be doing this. There's like, risk and stuff. Okay, I'm a huge adrenaline junkie, but- but I can't do this."

Goldie sat down beside him and pulled in her knees. She stroked his knuckles with her thumb. "Poof, honey, you're infertile as long as Finley's keeping you subordinate. And we were smart about it too. They haven't honey-locked. It's been over three months, and they didn't say they did. Won't it be all over the news when the Anti-Fairy prince gets all glowy and purple and everyone knows it? We'd have heard by now. They would a' said. It's like you told me in the bathroom over there: We were the most careful people, hon."

"Goldie…" Poof turned his head away, though he didn't let go of her hand. "I like you, okay? But maybe we should take a break."

"From being intimate," she clarified after a short pause.

"From each other."

"Oh. Oh my. Uh. But… but…" Goldie bit her lip until it burned, then let it go. "Your mama was just starting ta like me, hon. I'd hoped maybe-"

"I know, I know! We worked so hard to get here, and- and I'm being horrible about this." Still not looking at her, Poof kissed her wrist. "I know it's not fair to you. You've been so nice. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all me, just freaking out like a baby. But I want to break up. You said you'd let me, right? Even though you're a wisp?"

She dropped her gaze and fingered his hand. "I did say that. Didn't I?"

Well. She should. Yet she still found herself tonguing the sacs that ridged her gums. They squished, full of paralyzing venom. Fresh since she'd come of age. Fresh and potent now that it was winter again.

One kiss. It would only take one.

Poof spun around, his ponytail and the long ribbons on his headband slapping her cheek. Soft tears glittered at the base of his eyes. He grabbed her shoulder. "Goldie, please. Let me go. I can't do this right now. I need some time off to just think. Focus on something else. Like saucerbee."

"I…" Goldie blinked. She blinked again. She tried to find the words, but found her throat burning instead. Not because of the venom sacs that marked her kind as a danger to most sane people in the cloudlands… the venom sacs that had never bothered Poof, because he saw past them and knew she was more than a stereotype. When she did speak, her voice wasn't stable. "I gave myself to you, though?"

She regretted the words the instant she saw the pain flash through his eyes. Her burning throat closed over. Minty. Now she was that wisp. The wisp she promised she'd never be.

"I mean," she backpedaled, "we can break up if you want to, sugar." And she forced herself to smile, forced herself to shrug. Even closed her eyes as she did it. "We're popular kids. They expect us ta break up now and again. It'll be right as rainbows. We'll get by."

He gulped. His hand had started to shake against hers. "Can… can we still be friends?"

Goldie looked at her feet. Poof looked at her feet.

"Sure thing, sugarwings. We can stay friends. But, Poof?"

"Yes?"

"Would it be all right if… if while we take a break, I see where Foop stands with his maybe-girlfriend, and with me, and maybe… see how that goes for a little while?"

Pause.

"Are you, um…? A dual-Court kisser, Goldie? I never knew that."

"I… don't know. I'm still figuring that out." Goldie raised her head. "I wanted ta ask you first. If it would be okay. Foop likes me too. I kinda want to see where it goes."

Poof was staring at her now. His grip crushed her fingers. "Um. Okay? I guess that's fine. You can do what you want… But he's my opposite. What do you see in him?"

She shrugged defensively. "He's way scrumptious-looking for a nerd."

"I'm not?"

"Oh, you're cute too."

"Goldie, Hiccup. Remember?" Poof scooted closer, his eyes darting over her face. "You can't date just one of them. You've gotta take both, and they're both nuts."

She hated to say it, but she did anyway: "I don't mind dating them both. Lots of wisps date more than one boy at a time. It's not weird for us. I'm dating both you and Daxton."

"But that doesn't count! Your mom picked him for you; you have to. You date me during the school year and Daxton when you go home to your burrow system over the breaks. That's different. But Foop- Anti-Poof- He's an anti-fairy! He's evil! Oh dust, Goldie!" And he smashed their hands into his forehead. His shoulders shook. "They are literally back there right now, doing weird Anti-Fairy kissy stuff, and you want to ask him out?"

It sounded worse when he put it like that. Goldie withdrew her hand, but it didn't stop his irritation.

"Goldie, remember what happened to Cavatina? Your brother?"

"My- brother?"

He blinked. "Wisp, right?"

"Oh, golly gee. Poof, he and I didn't even live in the same burrow system. The Nevada and Tennessee systems are really quite different. For one thing, ours is bigger. Now you're just being mean, typecasting me. I'm a Goldenglow, and just because I'm the wisp's ambassador in training doesn't mean I-" Goldie pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Well, now it was really sounding worse. "I don't know! I- You're right. I shouldn't like Foop. But it's not my fault. I didn't pick him on purpose."

Poof tipped his head. "I picked you."

"Because we were kids! But now we're practically adults, and that's not how liking people works."

"How does it work, then?"

"I don't know, sugar. I'm just a- a- a hormonal li'l wisp damsel who wants to blitz every drake she sees! That's all I am! Just a goshdarn walking stereotype!"

"Goldie…" Poof slipped his arm behind her shoulders. Goldie shoved him off. Her shoulder bumped the wall, one wing catching in a dangling curtain.

"No! Don't touch me. I- I don't want to hurt you, pumpkin."

Poof withdrew, but with a frown. "Why would you hurt me?"

"Because!" She sprang to her feet. "When you said you wanted to break up, what was the first thing I thought? Go on, lemoncake. Guess it."

Realization passed along his face. "Goldie, you didn't mean it."

"Say it."

"It's not your fault if you thought for a second about paralyzing me with your Kiss of Frost and carrying me back to your dorm. No, that's not your fault."

"Not my fault? Not my fault?" She backed away as Poof rose to his feet. "It's not my fault because I'm a wisp? Because that's just how wisps are?"

"That's not how I see it."

"Whose idea was it to make you hers last September when she got a li'l extra hormonal? And that was way out of season! What's going to happen to us when it's actually my time? I could've really hurt you. Not just then, but any other time we've gotten close. Frozen y'all with my Kiss of Frost. What kind a' good girl does that? Who lured you into it with a coaxing finger and a- a seductive li'l smile and swirl a' the wings? Poof! Why do you stay? My, am I awful hurting you? Glorious stars above, sugar, you deserve so much more than me." And she clenched one of those low, long pigtails in either hand. "Why do you stay? You're a fairy. I'm a wisp. How did this happen? Is it- Am I doing something to control y'all?"

And if she was… would he leave her when she stopped? Up and leave her? Break up forever? The thought made her wings flutter against her waist.

It would only take one.

He took up her hands. Both of them, and held them between their chests as he stared up at her eyes. Normally he was shorter than her, though he was rarely on the ground long enough for that to be obvious. Which he was right now. She wasn't that much taller than him, but it was just enough to make it awkward. And she was still shaking, of course, and sobbing as the tears leaked down her cheeks, so that totally didn't help.

"I'm sorry- I'm sorry," she managed to choke out. "Please don't say something nice ta me. I'm not trying to fish for y'all's pity. Please don't. Poof, we gotta break up. I don't want you staying with me just 'cuz I'm crying over spilled rosewater now. I don't want you thinking later that I tricked y'all into this. Wisp damsels trick drakes into staying with them. I don't want that for you. You're free. You're free to me."

Poof looked at her, his head slightly to one side. He didn't say anything. Goldie untangled their fingers. She had backed all the way into the wall, behind the cabin's front door, so if it opened then they'd both get squashed. With Poof blocking her in the corner, she didn't have much room to maneuver. Instead, she pressed her fingers to her lips and shook her head.

"Please don't stay with me. I don't want to hurt y'all."

He brought her hands together, folding them. "I'm scared too, Goldie," he said, keeping his head tilted. "I'm scared of getting pregnant. But we'll just be careful. If we don't do it again for awhile, then that solves the problem, and we can still hang out like we used to. Boyfriend and girlfriend."

"I'll hurt you. We're 150,000 now. It's not like it used to be. I have a real strong Kiss of Frost now- I have thoughts sometimes…"

"You're not going to hurt me. It's going to be fine. I'll be right there to make sure you don't." He continued to hold her hands, his gaze locked on hers and absolutely serious. "I don't care if you have bad thoughts sometimes. I'll help you. We'll get through this. Together. I'm scared too, but it'll be okay. Okay?"

Goldie squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm manipulating you."

"No you're not." Poof snorted. "Goldie, I worked my crown off to get my Mama to start liking you and be okay with this. I'm not humble enough to tell her that when she finally said this is okay, I turned around and broke up with you."

She couldn't help but laugh at that. A soft, somewhat strangled laugh. She lifted their hands and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

Poof grinned. He lifted his wings and rose into the air. "Just tell me if you feel your Kiss of Frost slipping in, and we'll stop."

Goldie put the fingers of one hand in the back of his fuzzy purple hair. "Y'all don't mind if I get obsessive sometimes worrying that I'm not perfect?"

"No. You don't mind if we don't go any further than kissing for a while?"

"No."

He paused, his lips hovering above hers, and then bunched his eyebrows. "So we're together again, right? Or do you still want to date Foop and Hiccup?"

"Who needs Anti-Poofs? I've got the better one." Goldie pressed her mouth into his. Poof was a soft kisser- gentle, roaming, though he focused most of his attention on her lower lip. They kept their hands clasped the whole time, she on the ground and he in the air with his legs tucked beneath him. It was interesting. The night they'd given themselves to each other, their kisses had been stormy and fierce. Warm along her neck and then a little bit lower. This? This was just simple and sweet. And she liked it just as much. How strange that two Fairies who had kissed each other a hundred times before could still surprise one another accidentally.

They stopped when they heard the squeak of a distant door. Two very flustered Anti-Fairies picked their way back down the hall, holding their hands to their necks and not looking one another in the eyes.

"Hey, Foop," Goldie said, for lack of better conversation. She moved towards the couch again, Poof brimming with smugness as he followed. "You're back. I can tell it's you from that cute li'l limp in your wing." She'd never found out how he got that, actually. He'd always leaned on his right side since the first day they'd met, and that was back in Spellementary School.

"Yes, Hiccup got… tired. So, um." Foop's color hadn't yet lightened. His ears were at peak alertness. As they sat, he took his place in front of the couch and cleared his throat. "Th-the dance. Did our demonstration help?"

"Are you fritzy?" Poof let out a laugh. "That didn't help my self-confidence at all. Even minus the finishing move with the knives, which I will admit looked pretty cool, I'll never be able to dance like that."

"Obviously. I've been practicing all these stupid steps for a hundred and fifty thousand years. You've hardly had a semester to learn anything. But, luckily, you won't have to. You've only got to be good enough to meet Cherrywell's expectations, and he's hardly the strictest judge." Foop rubbed his cheeks and walked around to the table. He flipped his notebook to the first page. His voice steadied out. "Yes. You're going to be graded in thrrree main areas. First you'll need to dance, of course. Secondly, appropriate Tarrow dress, and in the right color for the year of your birth. That shouldn't be difficult."

Poof leaned past Goldie and groped about the table for the fruit bowl again. "Soil year. That's brown."

"Brown, red, black," Foop confirmed. "But brown should be the most prominent color. Third, you need to provide a list of the steps you'll be demonstrating. You need at minimum ten different ones, and if you forget or do them out of order, you'll be marked down."

Anti-Marigold flopped on Goldie's other side and snatched the last apple from beneath Poof's fingers. "Three marks'll drop y'all a letter grade real quick."

"Ouch," he said, shooting her a sideways glare.

"Aw, that's nothing, mate. We'd basically get disowned if we messed up so bad in the ballroom."

"Unfortunately, she's hardly exaggerating." Foop flipped to the next page, then back again. "Since my father's secured a stable supply of food for now, there really isn't much for we Anti-Fairies to do in Anti-Fairy World but entertain each other and chatter about the stars. Goldie, come walk me through your part so far."

Goldie jumped when she heard her name, because he hadn't even looked up. "Oh?"

"Yes. I don't want you butchering my people's traditions if there's any chance my name will get traced back to this, and with Poof's family out on the hill and only the lamest selection of board games on that bookshelf, I assume you don't have any better way planned to spend an afternoon in an empty cabin in the middle of nowhere." He stared directly at her when he said that part.

He thinks I can't control myself, she realized, narrowing her eyes. Because I'm a wisp. Well, that makes sense. Poof trusts me. You're his opposite, so of course y'all don't. And to think I wanted to leave him and date you. Pffft. Easy on those hormones, Marigold.

"Poof and I had been fixing on practicing our dance anyway," was her reply. She grabbed her milbark wand and gave it a spin. Instantly, her golden sweater and brown skirt were replaced with a full green bodysuit that promised to be soft and easy to move in. And which was perhaps a little tighter in certain areas than it needed to be. Foop blinked. His mouth snapped shut. Anti-Marigold put down her apple.

"Goldie," Poof said. She turned, and he flipped over his palms. "Where you going with this?"

A flash of guilt shot down her spine as she looked herself over. Right. Boyfriend.

She made a few hasty adjustments to her outfit, then dug around in her schoolbag until she found the list of steps she and Poof had scribbled out on their way back to school from lunch one day. Foop creased his forehead at a few of them and commented lightly that they would need to add or double a step in between, but he escorted her to the center of the living area anyway.

"Are you going to be able to do this all right when I'm so much taller than you?" she asked. Honest question, though Foop still sent her a miffed upward look. He was a lot shorter than Poof, especially on the floor.

"Don't flatter yourself, Goldie. I plan to do it so much better than 'all right'- and outgrow you in the end to boot."

"Y'all wish. Damsels are always tall."

Foop rolled his eyes. "I could rattle off a whole lot of statistics proving you otherwise, not the least of which is that Uncle Cosmo stands taller than Auntie Wanda, but I will refrain. Let's work on your finish. That looks to be the hardest part, so Anti-Marigold and I may as well spot you through it while we're around."

"If y'all need me," Anti-Marigold said, "I'll be eating cheese and crackers over here."

"I will need you, so do that and don't wander off. Goldie." Foop's attention zeroed back on her. "Both hands in mine, together, your palms facing down. That's it. We'll move backwards. For you, I mean. Then my way. Yes. Two more times. Yes, that's it. That's exactly right."

His feet were faster than hers, even though she could feel from the tightness of his fingers that Foop was fighting to be gentle and patient. Then his claws slipped away.

"Here I'll let you go with my right hand. Always the right hand- the lead's left is always the last to break contact. Your left goes behind you, always down, and I mimic it with my right, pointing up. Palm flat? Fingers loose? Splendid, and bring it back in. Take another step so we're beside each other. Hold my shoulder (Mind the wing). That's it, Goldie, you're doing wonderfully. Now, my right arm moves straight across the front of your chest this way, all the way around to your back."

"Um-!"

"Nicely done, your leg will go up, get ready, and down we go."

Foop dipped her towards the floor without waiting for much of a response. When the apexes of her wings brushed the rug, Goldie kicked up her leg as planned. It was plenty high, but the force of it flung her foot against his cheek. She hit solid bone. Foop recoiled, pressing his wing against his mouth. His claws pinched into her soft wings and she thought she felt a small tear, but he didn't drop her.

"Oh, you- you…!"

"Smoof." Weakly, Goldie forced a smile. "S-sorry, Anti-Poof."

"Beats getting stabbed," he managed around the wing. He inhaled through his nose. "Let's… run through that again. It's fine. It's fine."

They did. Step, step, catch and dip. Goldie flicked her leg up and it stayed. Foop leaned over her as they dipped low, his rounded nose almost bumping against her pointed one. She could feel the cool current of his effervescence tracing a line down her throat. Her wings thrummed against his hands.

Those eyes. Those enormous, searing, purple eyes, drinking in her entire face. Soft eyes, tender eyes.

Poof's eyes.

With a start, Goldie glanced away and brought one hand up to cover her cheek. Hopefully, no one could tell by the nervous set of her teeth just what was flashing through her mind.

It was over then. Foop brought her to her feet and turned her back over to Poof, then stood by to critique and adjust their stance with his hands as necessary until they had repeated the move several times to his liking. Anti-Marigold clicked a spoon idly against the mugs in the kitchen cupboards. Forgotten? Possibly; Foop was the type who always wanted to do everything by himself if he could. By the time Cosmo and Wanda stomped the snow from their boots on the cabin porch and clomped inside with their godkid scuttling ahead of them for the toilet, Goldie and Poof had the step pretty much down.

"Uh," Wanda said as the silence settled in. "Ooh, nice one," Cosmo seconded with a beaming smile. Goldie dropped her leg. Poof swung her upright and rapidly brushed off the front of her green dress.

"Um, th-that's for our Tarrow dance. You know. For our final school project in Anti-Ballroom."

Wanda lay her fingertips over her mouth. "Sweetie, look. He really likes her. He even tied his shoes."

Cosmo immediately burst into tears. "Nymphs always grow up so fast! And I never even took a picture of what life was like before this moment changed our whole world."

Wanda grabbed his hand. "Oh Cosmo, hold on. Lean on me. I'm right here. As long as we're together, we'll make it through anything."

"I'll always remember the instant the universe shifted," Cosmo continued, still clinging to her with his eyes leaking over. "This cabin is now my favorite place in the world."

"Mama… Guys…"

"My friend and I were just leaving, Auntie," Foop said briskly, not even looking at her as he stalked towards the fireplace. He snapped his scarf from the hook and yanked the knitted hat over his ears. "No need to tell my parents I was here. They're on migration anyway and my understanding is that they are not to be disturbed under any circumstances. 'Tis the season, as we say."

Goldie glanced at Wanda. Wanda glanced back at her. The question went unspoken, and unanswered. As Anti-Marigold lay aside her spoon, Goldie cleared her throat and moved to the door.

"Anti-Poof?"

He already had several of his books balanced on the fingertips of one hand. Goldie checked again over her shoulder at Wanda, who bit her lip.

"Well. I'd like to thank y'all for getting on our backs about this. Thanks for teaching us. Nuada knows we needed it."

"Bah, well. I'm always in the mood for riling that purple puffball up." Foop bowed as he zipped up his jacket. "It was an honor dancing with you, good dame. I expect you to nail that dip when you prrresent in front of Cherrywell next month. If you have someone record it, send me the video straight away."

Anti-Marigold patted her cheek as Foop pulled open the door. "Knock 'em smoky, sheila. I'll be barracking for you."

Goldie drew in a breath of the cold air whipping in from outside. When Foop grabbed the rest of his books, she flared her wings.

"Wouldn't y'all rather stay with us? It's against my good breeding to send anybody high-tailing off in the dark and the snow this way. Wanda and I are cooking, um…" What was the most stereotypical Anti-Fairy breakfast she could think of? "… scones, muffins, and bacon in the morning."

"Bacon?" Cosmo asked in delight, and promptly swung her into the same position Poof had held Goldie in just a minute before. "Ooh, Wanda, all of a sudden, I just remembered how much I love you."

"Cosmo, not in front of the ki-MMF!"

"Get a fishbowl, guys," Poof scolded, and Goldie sensed him put his hands over his eyes.

Foop and Anti-Marigold were still blinking at one another. "Well," Foop finally sighed, stroking his mustache, "I suppose…"

"It is migration season," Anti-Marigold said, nestling her head against his shoulder. "It ain't like anti-will o' the wisps are super loved in the colony cave anyway. And only the worst guy in the cloudlands would even think of dumping me off at the entrance gate and flitting inside without me two years in a row."

"Anti-Coriander and I have a certain image to project," he muttered as he kissed her hair.

"It's near Christmas time and we've plenty of rooms downstairs," Goldie wheedled, already trying to close the door against the wind. It bumped against Foop's pointed shoe, and he made no attempt to slide it away. "Please accept my hospitality. I simply must thank y'all both for your kindness."

"Yeah, then we won't have to buy you real presents," Poof added with a smirk as he skimmed over. He dodged Goldie's jabbing elbow with a sharp beat of his wings.

"Apparently we're staying now." Foop dropped his books on the table again and cracked his knuckles. "We'll spend the morning running through those steps again. And perhaps I'll manage to stomach a bit of hot chocolate. Don't any of you break a mirror or spill the salt, or I'm afraid we'll be on the run as soon as we've finished dirtying the place up."

"We understand," Goldie told him honestly.

"Sure, he says that." Anti-Marigold patted Goldie's other cheek this time, a bit more forcefully than before. She grinned when her counterpart leaned away. "Sleep tight, sheila. I make no promises of playing nice."

"Ha ha."

Once the pair had moved away from the door, Goldie finally did manage to shut it. A babbling conversation broke out between the two antis and Cosmo and Wanda, but she didn't hear more than a snippet here and there. Instead, she moved a few paces back and stared through the windows. The setting sun lit the snow with dancing flames. Evergreens nestled up and down the valley in bundles like curious rabbits peeking from their dens.

She started humming to herself and turned a circle with an invisible partner. Without a word, as she spun, Poof swept her up and let her complete the step, over and over, in his arms. Turning. Turning. Turning. Kiss. And dip.

---

A/N: Foop and Hiccup are two alternate personalities who can be addressed separately as such. Both also identify as their adult name (Anti-Poof) and as their private name (Nebula). If you walk into a room and don't know which personality is out at the moment, the polite way to address them is as either Nebula or Anti-Poof (depending on age and the intimacy of your relationship), and allow them to correct you if they want to be addressed as either Foop or Hiccup.

Despite having their adult name, the two are usually referred to separately for the reader's benefit. Disclaimer: This may vary by narrator.