There was something to be said about having a rivalry with the Ministry's lifts.

The first was that he didn't have a rivalry with the lifts.  Enchanted or not, they were still inanimate objects, which meant that they couldn't have a rivalry with anyone.  Still, as Kurby stood there with his teeth gritted, staring into the interior of the lift that had just opened its doors, he couldn't help but question if the Ministry lifts really had it in for him. 

He had presumed that the doors had opened to admit him entrance.  That was what lift doors usually did.  Every day, he apparated to the street entrance to the Ministry, flushed himself down, and then took the lift to the fourth floor.  It was a necessary trip -- not one he definitively looked forward to, but part of his day that he expected to happen, and one which he expected to happen without incident.  Getting to the office should not be the most difficult part of his working hours.

But as he stood there, staring into what should have been an empty lift with its doors just opening, Kurby wondered if he had done something to offend whichever ancient wizard had invented the magical lift.  The hundreds and hundreds of blue and white paper balls that were currently raining down on him were a dead giveaway, as they threatened to bury him under their cheery, Hannukah-inspired, multiplying-like-popcorn weight.[1]

"What the HELL?!"  He jerked back, but not far enough to get out of the way; the paper balls kept coming, showering down with mountainous momentum.  Desperately, instinctively, he apparated, reappearing with a crack a few feet away.

"WHAT THE HELL KIND OF STUPID --"  Kurby inserted a few words that were likely not Ministry appropriate as he continued to bellow.  "--SHITE IS THIS?  Is this someone's idea of a joke?!"  He whirled around with wild eyes, his expression furious, searching for a likely culprit to maul.  "Because as far as I can tell, I'm not bleedin' laughing!"

1.	Because some pranks were not meant to die

The day had begun quietly. Fauna had arrived to the Ministry on time, dressed in her trainee uniform, and with a coffee in each hand for any Aurors on Level Two. Yawning, she stood in front of the lifts, feeling like they were going extra slowly today. She let other employees furiously press the button, content to wait.

From the corner of her eye, she thought she spotted Bagnold scowling, and remained where she was, still sleepy enough that she didn't even snark in her head.

Suddenly, the lift doors opened, and Fauna was wide awake.

Out poured the paper balls, right onto some poor sod impatient to get on the lift! She heard a swear, and the first, hesitant grin flitted across her face. Then the POP of apparation sounded and Bagnold was only a foot away from her, cursing and bellowing at life. It was the way he tried to escape, too. Like a cat poking his head from underneath a couch, hissing, and then reemerging to find a crup still waiting for it.

Most of the other Ministry employees had the sense to edge away. Fauna, still clutching the coffee cups in her hands, just laughed. Loudly.

She paused for a second. She started laughing again, bending over a bit and shaking her head at Bagnold's bad luck.

The paper balls were still pouring out of the lift, like some sort of ridiculous puffskein raising scheme gone wrong.  With a growl, Kurby nudged one of them with the toe of his boot; it unfolded to reveal his cousin's brooding, soul-filled gaze[1] staring back at him.  The werewolf hunter let out a noise that could only be described as a snarl, kicking at the wad of paper and sending it flying back into the pile of its brethren; it quickly quadrupled into four more as it impacted.

The sound of laughter alongside him felt like something searing into his own soul.  Kurby whirled, angrily scanning those standing nearby for a hint of who had the nerve to laugh at him. 

Of course it was Blake.  A cold feeling set in around him.  Never mind that he'd saved the girl's life; never mind that both she and he had plenty of better things to do with their time than mess around with self-multiplying paper balls, though judging by the number of pranks that he could trace back to the Auror Corps, it was a wonder that the men and women in scarlet ever got anything done. 

To hell with it.  He was through putting up with it, especially from a kid who was barely a trainee.  Kurby bared his teeth ferociously and let loose with a bellow.

"You think this is funny?!"  He gestured furiously at the growing pile of paper balls, at the lift, at Blake herself -- at anything within range.  "What the hell are you doin' that you have so much free time, Blake?!  I should've let that bleedin' werewolf eat you," he snarled, stepping closer, drawing himself up to his full height as he glared directly at her face.  "Then at least you'd be my goddamned problem to deal with."

1.	See the Valentine's Day edition of Witch Weekly

Fauna's laughter faded. She straightened automatically as Bagnold got up in her face, the tips of his boots grazing hers.

She held the two cups of coffee closer to her and hunched her posture a bit, glancing around the Atrium, Bagnold's bellow overwhelming any remaining chatter and the fluttering sound of bouncing paper. He always knew exactly what to say to piss her off. Mentioning the werewolf attack, reminding her of his promotion (Merlin help them all!) - all of that made her want to sputter at him, to get flustered and yell back.

But she knew what would happen next. It was a pattern now. He yelled, she yelled, and he found something hilarious about her attempts to stand up for herself. The laughing was worse than the bellowing!

Fauna gave him a quietly defiant look. She didn't move. She ignored the prank spilling out of the lift and accumulating around their ankles.

"You've got a little something... right there," she tilted her head and frowned at his shoulder, gesturing to her own collar with the coffee in her hand. "Nope, other side."

If all went according to plan, the lone paper ball hiding in the crook of his collar wouldn't be alone for long!