Title- What can I tell ya, I couldn’t think of a title?

Ship- Holly/Mulch (don’t like, don’t read)

Status- One-Shot

A/N: It’s only action for a few scenes. First work on this site, but I do have fics for other fandoms. All I can say, is please R&R (READ and review)(the terms thing said “rate”)(do we rate things here?)(forgive my newb-ness)

Holly sighed and looked down at the paper work infront of her, but not truly. She was staring at it in a mixture of loathing and merely to have something to look at as she drifted of into her fantasy world.

She looked up at a knock on her door. He walked in, smile on his face and Holly smiled with him, her eyebrow creeping up questioningly at the flowers in his hand.

He held out the flowers and took a deep breath, “For you.”

Dream-Holly beamed and smelled them, “But . . . why?”

He stroked her ring finger, “Do fiance’s need a reason?”

“HOLLY!” Holly jumped from her fantasy about a certain man of her dreams. Both literally and metaphorically, as she dreamed of him often.

“If we ran out of food again, I’ll go shopping once I’m done with the paper work you’re not doing.” she snapped loudly.

“Wait-” Mulch said, at the door to their joint office, “We’re out of a food?”

“Are we?” she said absently, thinking of “him”.

“Holly, snap out of it! We just got another case.”

“Oh” she blushed in embarrassment, “Right. Zoning out from underground.”

“Thinking of Mudmen?” Mulch asked sourly. He liked the Mudmen fine. Dom scared him, Juliet was bad ass and Artemis had gold fever too. But, if Holly thought of them with that sparkle in her eyes, he may have to stop liking them.

“Hmm, what?” Holly snapped out of thinking of her dream man again. She found it harder and harder to. Then she remembered the question, “No, not the Mud Muggles.”

“Muggles?”

“Try reading,” she swept her hand in a tiny motion, indicating toward her bookcase of procrastination.

Mulch snorted. “Are we going to work, or what?”

“Work? I a-” Mulch hit her playfully on the side of the head. She fought to get an annoyed look on her face. “Hey!”

“Think, elf. The new case.”

“Only if you’ll help with the paperwork,” she said stubbornly twirling her spinn-y chair.

“What do you mean?” Mulch asked, aghast.

“I mean,” she said, twirling, “Help with this,” she patted a foot-high stack of paper evils, “or, I won’t go on the mission and stay here and get this done.”

“And, you just won’t come?” Mulch said, disbelieving. “Really, Holly?”

“Oh, my dear dwarf, I am quite serious,” she said jokingly. Then her tone became serious “Want to try me?”

Mulch’s eyes grew wide, “No, Captain.”

She stood up at her short hieght and patted his slightly taller head, “Good boy.”

Mulch’s head tingled where she’d touched him.

Holly scanned the crowd, looking each sprite in the face before finding the right one. A light green female with a large scar, gotten from escaping jail. Black hair and bony from malnourishment. Likely resting her wings.

One female fit it exactly. She even looked around guiltily. Holly smiled; her job was too easy.

-

Mulch spotted his target. The female he was looking for. She stood out well in the crowd because of her sheer uniqueness. He ran as fast as he could to her.

“‘Bout time, Mulch.” Holly said, casually.

“Sorry,” he apologized, “Find ‘er?”

“Yes. She keeps glancing at that fairy that looks like Trouble nervously. She’s either guilty of this, guilty of something else, or Troubles got some explaining to do.”

Mulch chuckled. “What’s the approach.”

“This.” Holly said, her tone ending the matter. Mulch begged to differ.

“No, Holly,” he grabbed for her arm, but lost her in the bustle of Haven.

To his credit, Mulch kept his cool. He walked cautiously toward where he last saw the girl. He found Holly chatting amiably with her, but the sprite’s face showed apprehension. Mulch motioned for her to come to him, but she ignored him. He sighed. Better just pick this up when it falls apart.

-

Holly found the missing fairy and stopped her to chat.

“Hello, Miss, I couldn’t help but think you were lost.”

“I-I’m not.” The poor sprite, replied.

“Oh, dear,” Holly wasn’t sure if she was calling the female dear, or sighing at Mulch in the background waving ostentatiously, “You sound sick. Maybe I should help you to the hospital?”

“N-no. I’m f-fine.” The sprite refused, but tried to walk away. Holly liad a hand on her arm.

“Please,” she let concern powder her voice, “By the way, my name’s Vida. Yours?”

Holly was a rather convincing liar, and the name only took a few seconds to come up with.

“My n-name is Aurora-a. Please, I am fi-ne.” Aurora stuttered. She honestly seemed sick. Up close, she was gaunt, pale and a bit shaky; which Holly thought to be the reason for the stutter if not just her. But it was perfect. Aurora was the name of the sprite that escaped.

“Aurora, you look sick. Please?” Holly tightened her grip on the sprite’s arm.

“No!” Aurora cried, and with a new strength she pulled her arm from Holly’s hand and tried to take to the skies.

“Stop!” Mulch shouted and ran up to where Holly had a grip of the struggling female around her waist.

“You got her?” he panted.

“Yes! Efficiently!” Holly snapped.

“Alright, alright,” Mulch pacified and took the handcuffs from his pocket and snapped the sprite’s hands together and Holly set her down.

“Ah!” Aurora gasped as she ran into Mulch in a rather faulty escape plan. When the sprite fell, she hit her head against the concrete.

Holly winced, though she’d seen worse, “Poor female. She didn’t look to well to begin with.”

“And she’s light as a feather,” Mulch said, as he picked her up to carry her down the street to the Police Plaza. No wonder she’d been jumpy.

Holly pranced up to the door and kicked it open, alarming many an intern and shouted “I’M HO-OME!”

Trouble glanced out his office door, hunting down the sorry bastard to recieve punishment for his bad day. Then he saw Holly in the door, weight balanced on one foot as the other tapped, back to the plaza she’d disrupted, waiting for something.

Then Mulch crossed the doorway with an unconscious sprite in his arms. He grinned through his beard as he carried her up the steps. Trouble wondered why he was so happy with that poor sprite. . . oh. The con got another con. Yay . . . more paperwork. Just what warlocks ordered.

Then Holly spotted him and walked over calmly. “Offender Aurora Borlis, number 5403045. Offences- theft and murder-”

“Whoa,” Mulch interupted and raised the fairy, “This little thing murdered someone?”

“In the act of robbing a bank, yes,” agreed Trouble.

Mulch stared at her and moved her farther from his chest, but not to drop her. He wasn’t heartless.

“Captured forcfully and injured with a sharp, well, crack to head because she fell after colliding with my partner, Commander,” Holly finished formally.

Trouble smiled, “Call me Trouble, Holly. Like always.”

“You’re no fun,” Mulch pouted, but was secretly jealous that Trouble had made Holly smile.

“Okay, so she goes to Foaly?” Holly asked and Trouble nodded. “I’ll run her down. I need to talk to Foaly anyway.”

She took the fairy into her thin arms and started to walk briskly toward Ops.

When she got there, she placed the sprite into a chair and ran to Foaly and poked his back, saying, “Hey, centaur!”

“Elf!” Foaly said fondly eveloping her into a hug.

“How are you?” Holly asked his shoulder.

“My bugs have a bug.” he said spitefully.

Holly laughed and pulled away, “Poor bug, have you tried medications?” she asked.

“Ha, ha,” Foaly laughed dryly, “You’re so funny.” he ruffled her jaw length hair. “Finally, that does something! When you were on the field, doing that made me feel like I was petting a guy! Now,” he messed her hair up again fondly, “You feel like a girl.”

“Guess what?” Holly asked, her voice dripping with fake cheer.

“What?”

“I am one too!” she grinned and ignored Foaly’s glare as she sat on his work table, “So . . . any new toys?”

“Toys?” Foaly asked. He never kept Mudman toys. Holly was playing with a strand of hair she’d just realized had grown.

“Don’t lie to me, centuar! I know you’ve got a nice new gun for Holly,” Holly began to rifled inconspicuously through the pages on his desk.

“It’s been that long?” Foaly asked, eyebrows raised. It was like someone going through withdrawal.

She sighed. “I have to catch criminals, and put up with Mulch, and I’m not allowed a Neutrino! Not even the old ones! I loved my guns . . .” she faltered.

“What?” Foaly asked trying not to laugh.

“I feel like I’ve lost weight with out it . . .” she stopped again.

Foaly laughed, “Don’t women love that?”

Holly rolled her eyes, “Let’s forget my gun-obsession — and it is an obsession. Trouble and I have to start one of those addicts anonymous clubs. But anyway, I brought you a present!” she waved to the Aurora

“New perp?” Foaly asked, indicating to the sprite and cracking his knuckles.

“Yep.” Holly answered.

“Great, now get out of my sight.” Holly pretended to pout and walked out sadly, “And don’t forget to visit!”

She walked up and found Mulch waiting outside the Plaza, waiting and grinning. These were bad signs.

“Trouble’s the new Julius.” Mulch stated.

“Frond,” Holly prayed, “What have I done to you!?! Only you can save me now!” she clasped her hands and shook them, looking upwards.

“You know, Holly, I have feelings,” Mulch said sadly.

She smirked. “I know, I just don’t care.”

Mulch grabbed his heart, “That one struck hard. I feel it bleeding.”

Holly rolled her eyes and shoved him lightly.

“And now you injure me! Abusive elf!” he cried. He leaned over to a passing elderly woman and whispered loudly to her “Help me. The elf’s abusing me!”

Holly smiled and waved, “Hello Mrs. Nalpaten. Lovely evening.” As it was evening, she hadn’t realized how much time she’d spent wrestling the sprite and in Ops.

“Hello, dear,” Mrs. Nalpaten replied nervously.

“You know her?” Mulch whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

“She lives two stories below,” Holly replied at regular volume.

“Oh, she’s the tea lady?” Mulch asked about the woman who constantly took Holly down to her apartment for tea.

“Yes,” Holly sighed. She didn’t much like the tea times. She adored Mrs Nalpaten, but it took her away from work and other things. Important things.

They’d arrived at their building, and Holly pushed the elavoter button, “Want to watch a movie?”

Mulch grinned. “What movie?”

“I nicked it from Foaly. Mudmen, violence and renegade cops.” Holly brandished the small chip from where she’d stashed it.

Mulch looked it over. It had an official cover. “Wouldn’t be a Mudman movie with half naked females,” he said, disgusted.

Holly punched his arm and muttered “All you have to say,” under her breath.

“I’m in,” Mulch said as Holly pressed the button for their floor.

“If only for under-wear-less Mud girls,” said Holly sarcastically, pretending to be intersted in the buttons.

“No, I’m intersted because it looks awesome!” Mulch patted the explosions on the picture cover. Holly chuckled.

The elevator beeped, and they walked out the only noise the flat bang of their shoes.

“D’avirt!” Mulch muttered pressing his hands to his legs in search of keys.

“I have mine,” Holly said, swinging them in front of his eyes before unlocking the door and walking in.

Mulch trudged in and sat on the small couch. Holly inserted the disk.

Holly fell back on the couchlet, resting accidently on Mulch’s arm.

“Sorry!” they said simultaneously, going red. Holly leaned onto the arm of the couch and Mulch retracted his arm.

“Holly, Holly, bomb!” Mulch said, minutes into the movie. Holly inspected curiously, it didn’t look like a fairy bomb, but, hey, those Mudmen didn’t look like dwarfs or sprites.

“Oh, oh, they’re holding up a bank!” cried Holly, and she leaned on Mulch’s arm.

Mulch’s heart went into double time and he went stiff.

Holly didn’t know why she leaned there, but she was comfortable, as long as the nervous system went. But her heart raced and she doubted herself, especially when he froze. Then he did something neither expected. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Holly brought her legs up and got comfy. As far as she knew this was a once in a life time thing.

Holly groaned.

“What?” Mulch asked, concerned.

“Worst. Police tactic. Ever.” she said, eyes flicking to Mulch and back to the mistakes the Mudmen were making then to Mulch again.

Mulch laughed and squeezed Holly closer to him. So close, her hips actually moved a bit, unsteadying her and threatening to topple her off the couch. In defience, she slipped her arms around Mulch’s neck and swung, to her embarrassment, so she was sitting in his lap.

“Sorry-” Holly started, but then Mulch wrapped his arms solidly around her waist. Holly looked into his eyes, and saw that they were calculating. She didn’t want to calculate. She wanted to do.

Holly leaned up and kissed Mulch, and explosions fired on the disk player. They started slow, but grew slightly frenzied as passion grew. Mulch liked how petite her frame felt in his grasp as opposed to, say, trying to kill him. Holly just loved to be kissing him. His beard tickled, and his skin was warm, but where ever it touched her skin it lit on metaphorical fire.

They broke apart, chests slightly heaving. Holly smiled and whispered, slightly blabbering, “If anyone’d told me I’d fall for you two years ago, I’d have punched them. But now they’re right, and thank Frond they’re right.”

Much smiled and chastely kissed her and agreed, “Thank Frond.”

Some other stories by The Weird Shipper:

• Once Upon A Time
• Playing
• Staying
• I'm Leaving
• Tears