Apartment Above Pick Your Poison, Too Early On A Saturday Morning

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“I’m going to go back to that bar and beat that low, magical snake-oil slinging bar shrew with every novelty crab-print shot glass they have until she gives me the address for this fucking brewery, and we are going to burn that place down and laugh over the goddamn flames—”

On the bright side, Margo had woken up herself this morning. On the not-so-bright side, Margo had woken up herself this morning.

She paced from one end of the murder lab to the other, her fists clenching as her upper lip curled into a snarl. “I swear on Ember’s sweat-stained corpse, Eliot. . .”

Had you missed this, El?

[ for the bff ]

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[existencemisspent]

You know, he absolutely had.

"Bambi," he breathed. "We can plot your revenge in a minute, right now you need to come over here and let me check you for scales."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“I’m fine, El,” Margo snapped. “Now. I feel like someone just ripped my brains out and replaced it with something made outta old red cups!”

She walked over to him, arms outstretched, a second later. Sometimes you just had to get something out of your system, all right?

[existencemisspent]

"As delighted as I am that you are no longer saying 'woo'," Eliot began as he stood to gather her into his arms, "and that you're your proper Bambi height again, those scales were gross. We need to make sure they didn't do anything permanent to your poor skin."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Margo sighed. “They were very gross, weren’t they?” she muttered into Eliot’s shoulder as she relaxed her entire body into those lanky arms.

Damn it, she’d missed him.

[existencemisspent]

The feeling was entirely mutual.

"The worst," Eliot said, fond and gentle. Then pulled back just enough to be able to look her in the eye. (Carefully not thinking too hard about why she only had the one, now, and where he'd last seen the other.) "Ember is actually dead, you know."

Had she gotten any of his bunnies?

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“Yeah, I know, a bunch of bunnies with a smoking habit told me,” Margo said. She looked at his face, also choosing not to think about the problems they’d had before she disappeared.

How long had it been?

[existencemisspent]

Many, many weeks. Stupid Fillory had a tendency to run a little faster than other places.

"Oh, you did get them! I was worried when I didn't get any back from you. Quentin managed to send some back almost immediately."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

She wanted to tell him it had been fucking terrifying, being stuck somewhere magical without anyone she knew, that the bunnies had at least been a relief, that she’d wanted to talk to him so badly, it. . .

“Well, no one’s ever accused Q of playing it cool,” Margo rasped. “Ever.”

[existencemisspent]

And Eliot would love to tell her about how terrifying it had been to have her gone, have Quentin run off after Alice again even with her missing, be stuck with only Josh for company when human magic went away.

"He's a high strung super-nerd. If he played it cool, we'd have to check him for brainwashing."

They were such good communicators.

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Margo chuckled. Once.

She pulled away from him. “I did try to send one of ‘em back,” she said. “Guess it didn’t take.”

[existencemisspent]

Eliot nodded with a soft hum of acknowledgment. "The Fairy Queen tried to reach you, too. She said they didn't get any of those bunnies back 'intact'."

He felt deeply sorry for the poor bunnies that got lost to the ether, yes. Not that he'd show it.

"So. You did get the bunnies. So you know about Ember and Umber, and magic being dead, and the fairies invading."

Or had some of that gotten lost in the massive bunny info-dump?

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“Yes, Fillory is fucked five ways from Sunday,” Margo said. “Again.”

When was the last time they hadn’t been in the middle of a crisis? When they’d just had a chance to sit down?

“How are you holding up?”

[existencemisspent]

Eliot took a deep breath, shoulders lifting and hanging in the air for a moment in a prolonged, theatrical shrug.

"Oh, well. You know. The peasants are all starving because we can't schedule the rains, my wife has lost her goddamn mind and thinks a log is our stolen child, and my fiancé is back in Loria trying to clean up from half the population of the world turning into rats so. . . . It's been a fairly average Fillorian couple of months. But Josh stuck around, so for a little while at least, we had some decent drugs."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Eliot was dodging the question, Margo could tell. But she was used to it, so while concern flashed in her eyes, what she said was, “Fuck, I’d give my left tit for some of his seeing-rainbows-in-five-dimensions pot right now.”

[existencemisspent]

"Right?" Like they weren't both dodging the tough conversations right now. "At least you had access to some decent champagne here, though. As demonstrated, even in the throes of all of that . . . 'woo'ing."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“Don’t remind me,” Margo said. She held up one finger and glared. “I was the best fucking party girl at UCLA and Brakebills and I have never— ever— woo’ed in my goddamn life.”

A terrible truth struck her.

“. . .do we have any alcohol left in this hellhole?”

[existencemisspent]

"Yes," Eliot said, digging carefully around the lab equipment near the hot plate. "But -- only because I remembered to bring my flask with me into the portal."

Have some enchanted flask booze, Margo.

"Speaking of which, I'm assuming you've been unable to find a way off this rock so we may want to look into . . . other accommodations."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“I meant for later, El, it’s 9 AM,” Margo said, rolling her eye. She still believed in a time and a place. “But you’re right. There’s one way off this rock by foot, and someone’s warded it up the gills.”

[existencemisspent]

Eliot blinked at that admonition, then took a sip of his own before closing the flask up and tucking it into his shirt. Which needed yet another freshening spell put on it, good lord.

"Well. Now that we have multiple magicians, perhaps we can give cooperative magic a try. But also . . . I don't remember much from Herbology 101 other than what can and can't be smoked, but I'm reasonably certain some of these plants are poisonous? And my liver's already in enough trouble. Seriously, what is the rest of the housing situation in this wannabe-French hamlet like?"

Was he also maybe avoiding thinking about going back to Fillory and all the mountains of terrible he'd left there? He wasn't proud of it, but -- yes. 100%. Absolutely.

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Why was he asking her? “I don’t know,” Margo said, leaning against a countertop she was fairly sure didn’t have any sharp objects or poison on it. “Ember’s screwed-up party trick coughed me up inside this murder house, and I’ve been trying to get out of here since. I haven’t exactly gone knocking on doors, I—”

Wait. She had seen at least one place.

“Okay, I banged a hot British chick, her place seemed fine, but I’m not exactly about to call U-Haul.”

[existencemisspent]

Eliot wrinkled his nose. "Ew, of course not. You don't do commitment. Glad to hear you haven't been completely dry in the last six weeks, though."

He gave her a slightly more assessing look.

"Are . . . you okay? I know how much you hate feeling trapped."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“I traded one whimsical bag of drama for another, smaller whimsical bag of drama,” Margo said. She felt a headache coming on just thinking about it. “I just wanna get our shit out of here before I catch another case of the woos.”

[existencemisspent]

“Well, by all means. Let me do my morning outfit fresher, and then we’ll go see about these wards.” He looked down at himself with a sigh. “And if we can’t get through them, I am going to need some retail therapy. I’ve been wearing these same regal vestments for four days.”

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“There’s a place called Pixie Dust nearby that’s actually kind of all right for a small-town fashion store,” Margo said. She looked Eliot over from tip to toe. “Honey, they're lovely, but you should’ve thought of that sooner. You know what refreshing spells do to the fabric.”

[existencemisspent]

"I had . . . other priorities."

Finding booze and caffeine, mostly.

"The Fillorian tailors can fix it up later."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Margo shrugged airily. “Or throw it out,” she said.

It was only a matter of months before it’d be out of fashion.

Her expression grew more serious as she considered him again. “But we’re stuck in magical Maryland for a while,” she said. “We try attacking the wards, if that doesn’t work, we look into the housing situation. . .”

Her gaze settled on Eliot’s face. “Maybe review some code words.” This town had appeared pretty stable until it’d fucked with her head. Who knew what else would to happen?

[existencemisspent]

He was the High King. If he wore it it was fashion.

"Codewords," he said slowly. "Are you sure you don't want to try various inflections on the word 'woo'?"

He teased because he loved.

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“I’m still sharing a bed with you until we find another place, I can easily kill you in your sleep.”

[existencemisspent]

"Okay, okay," Eliot said, reaching out to tug her in again, swaying a little as he did. "Let's see. 'Credenza', always a classic: 'no questions asked'."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Margo sighed. In exasperation, not affection. Honest. “Inglenook: tie those fools up, throw ‘em through a portal.”

[existencemisspent]

"Chifforobe: flee to Canada. Armoire: shields up."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

“Kimono: all hell has broken loose,” Margo recited. She pulled Eliot into something of a twirl.

She felt better now that he was here. More stable. They had this.

[existencemisspent]

Of course they did! They were, to quote Quentin, "Royalty, bitches!"

Eliot twirled obligingly, his loose, poofy shirt flaring with the movement, then came back in so they were chest to chest.

"So. Show me these wards, then. We'll see if they can stand up to the combined force of the multiverse's most fabulous magicians."

[not_a_goddamn_princess]

Margo looked up (and up, and up) at him in wry, fatalistic amusement. “Sure,” she said. “But on the way back? We’re picking up more goddamn champagne. I’m not drinking your infinite whiskey all night.”

[existencemisspent]

"Um, of course," Eliot said. "That's for emergencies only. Also, I'm pretty sure I noticed a spa across the street and Bambi? Daddy definitely needs to get his manicure refreshed."