After The Mirror

Chapter 2: Bedtime

Puck floated above his bed, staring at it.

What's the matter? Owen mentally grumbled. I thought you were tired?

"I am tired." Puck replied out loud. "Those stupid chains drained me."

Then why aren't we napping? Owen asked. Better yet, why aren't we me?

"Because you'll insist on finishing up work first." Puck said in a tone he'd never admit was fond. He pouted. "It's bad enough that you won't let me sleep in."

What part of 'lifetime of service' do you not understand? Owen asked, for what felt like the billionth time in his short life. You designed me to be the perfect servant. Besides, if we sleep in, we can't bring Mr Xanatos his morning coffee. If we don't bring him his morning coffee, he'll be too grumpy to tell us his latest plans. You love diabolical scheming time.

"I know I do." Puck sighed, still giving his perfectly made bed a death glare. "How can my own creation be a better servant than I am?"

Perhaps the fact that Mr Xanatos shares our sense of humor and Oberon doesn't has something to do with it? Owen suggested drily. Now, get to bed. I'm getting us up at six whether you sleep or not.

Puck muttered something under his breath.

What?

"I hate your bed!" Puck not-quite-yelled, shooting straight up into the air and flipping around. "It's all stiff, and straight, and perfect for your muscley back. But I just know it'll give me a crick in the neck if I even try to sleep on it."

How could you possibly know that? We've never slept on it while being you. Owen pointed out, exasperatedly adding We could just be me.

"No, no, I'll figure... Something out." Puck's gaze traveled over to their closet, a smile creeping up his face. He floated over and dragged out a large tub from the very back. "Hey, remember that one Christmas where Bossy pranked you by spreading that rumor about you liking really colorful quilts?"

Yes, it was very amusing. Owen said flatly, his voice as bland as ever. When the tub was upended and a dozen-or-so quilts spilt onto the floor, his voice took on a distinctly angry (and loud) tone he reserved especially for Puck. What do you think you're doing?!

"Relax, you can clean it up in the morning." Puck rolled his eyes and began arranging the quilts in a makeshift nest. "You love cleaning things up."

I have a feeling you made my that way just so I'd clean up your messes. Owen grumbled, but made no further complaint as his counterpart threw their collection of pillows on the blanket pile. He purposefully ignored the flat, grey ones in favor of the plump, colorful ones.

Puck threw the thin, grey blanket into the air, twirling it around himself and plopping down with a contented smile, wrapped tightly in a cocoon of his own making. He snuggled deeper into the nest, a little sigh escaping him as he fell asleep.

An hour later, he woke up to the computer insistently beeping and Owen yelling at him to check his email.