Warning: Language. From children, and probably from Margo



Nate had been managing his workload better after recently hiring a new secretary who kept giving him appointments left and right. Her assistance in answering some of his owls gave him more time to thoughtfully respond to urgent clients, and most noticeably-- it gave him more downtime. Today, he took a long lunch at Death and Co with Callie and Margo. He was relieved that the two of them got along so well. They were both weird, but sometimes when weird met weird, things got... Weird.

He and Callie shared a plate of fish and chips. As much as he loved the English version, he missed a small place back home that served the Pacific Northwest style. He could get a delicious, fresh salmon version there. He wanted to take Margo there sometime, along with all the breweries and small mom-and-pop type restaurants of his childhood.

As one of Cepheus' coworkers, Grigory Gonchar, finished his meal and left, Callie took a bite of fish and jutted her thumb at him.

"This fucking guy." She said right before swallowing.

Nate paused mid-bite.

What?

He turned and gave Margo an incredulous look.

"What was that, Cal?" Nate inquired.

"This fucking guy." She repeated, as if he was an idiot for not hearing her the first time.

His blue eyes met Margo's. "That's a Margo word, Callie." He said slowly, "I--" What the hell did you even do in this situation? He finished his chip.

Lunch with Callie and Nate was a pretty regular thing, but that never really meant it was normal.  Gonchar had decided to join them for a bit and the lively discussion revolving around which species of magical beast would be the coolest pet to have, barring inevitable death. 

Margo would always argue dragon, there was no other option, but when the conversation became more lively and everyone had something to say, Margo may have let some language slip.  It did end though, and Gonchar was heading back to the Ministry, so the vigor of the argument ceased and they were left more sedate than they had been moments ago. 

So, at first, it didn’t register that Callie had said anything out of the ordinary. 

In fact, she might have accidentally nodded at the young girl as she spoke.  It didn’t seem strange to hear that word within the walls of Death & Co, even at lunch time.  She just placidly chewed her sandwich, well, at least until Nate looked at her and then it became obvious that something…. Ooooh.

Her jaw dropped a little bit and maybe a bit of bread might have fallen out… okay it totally did, but that wasn’t – there were bigger issues than that!  Her eyes slowly shifted back toward Callie who did not appear to think anything was wrong. 

Finally swallowing back the bite of sandwich, Margo cleared her throat.  “More people than I use that word,” she somehow immediately managed to rasp out before taking a drink of pumpkin juice (it had been deemed inappropriate to have a beer at  lunch), “But uh…” she looked to Callie. 

“You probably shouldn’t say that out loud.” 

"Right, you shouldn't say that out loud." Nate reprimanded his daughter, tone quiet but stern. He stole a quick, amused glance at Margo. One that Callie immediately picked up on.

Shit. Now she wouldn't take him seriously.

"I mean it," He continued, "We'll revisit the idea when you're.." What age was appropriate to allow children to cuss? Twelve? Thirteen? He'd never dared to curse in front of his parents as a kid. That had waited well until he was in adulthood. "Older."

"I'm older now." Technically, that was true. His kid was a total shithead.

"You can curse if you pass your OWL exams." That seemed reasonable. Right? "So, when you're...." He looked to Margo, hoping that she could give him the right age. He hadn't gone to Hogwarts, he had no idea what year students were in when they had to take their standardized tests.

This was not a conversation Margo should be present for.  She had a hard time not smiling like an idiot and an even harder time when Nate looked at her and she had to lift her hand to cover her mouth or Callie would see her grinning... oh... too late.  Whoops.  Snorting into her palm, Margo stared down at the table for as long as possible.

She would have to like... think of dead pupples... or maybe that time Nate's parents walked in.  That was a good sobering thought.  Yes, focus on the weird hippy parents who didn't bat an eyelash as she was on her knees on the floor... Yup. Totally sobering.  Letting out a slow breath, it sputtered at the end as Callie, once again, got around Nate with a logical, but totally Margo-like remark. 

She pretended it was a sneeze, apologetically looking at Nate before she turned her attention back to Callie.  "Like 15," she informed both of them, "you can start cursing then.  Or you know," she shrugged, "when you pay for your own flat or something."  She shrugged and looked to Nate again, and shrugged. 

"To be honest, I just sort of... cursed in secret until I was seventeen and then," she clapped her hands and made a sort of explosion sound before letting them fall away and land with sizable thuds on the table in front of her.  "It all sort of works out from there."

Margo was so fucking amused at this whole situation. She was such a jackass. Granted, that was one of the things he loved about her. It made her both infuriating and easy to be around. Those owls that she sent to him while he was at work, for example, were a perfect example of Margo's miscreant ways. Nate's poor secretary had gone from blushing and not being able to meet his eyes, to giving the pair of them a judgmental look any time the opportunity presented itself. Which was all the time.

And now, Callie was cussing. Another thing for Elena to judge.

"Please don't do it in front of Elena." He sighed, "Or any of the Radleys." Except Fred. Fred's reaction would be priceless.

Callie had totally tuned out, focused on her piece of fried fish. Whatever.

"Wait, Margo-- you cursed in secret?" He was frankly, incapable of imagining a time where she kept it a secret. "Did you give your mom a heart attack when you--" How did you word this without it sounding weird, "Let it all out?" Nope, still weird.

This was so unfortunate.  Margo knew Callie saw her not caring about her dropping an F-curse.  It hadn’t even caused her to blink until like a minute later!  How was she supposed to pretend she cared?  It wasn’t like she ever watched her mouth (though, realistically, that was probably why they were sitting here having this discussion right now). 

Resolute, she attempted to steady her face and appear stern.  She pulled her eyebrows in and  pursed her lips.  Callie looked at her like she was crazy.  Okay, maybe she should relax her lips.  That felt better.  Yes.  This was definitely her stern-Margo face.  (It should be noted, Callie did not seem to care at all and instead regarded her father before her fish and chips became the primary objective). 

Shrugging, at least Margo didn’t have to pretend to care about curse words anymore.  She was about to do the same when Nate posed a question that did give her pause to think. 

It had seemed so natural when she informed them that she didn’t always curse so publically… but now, thinking about, that was really strange.  “My mother was terrifying when I was a kid,” Margo finally answered honestly.  She was hot headed, loud, and generally a lot like Margo.  Just stricter.  With far more regard for social setting and etiquette.  “Then, it sort of just happened,” she recalled the instance so clearly.  The words had just tumbled out – Margo had stubbed her toe (eternally clumsy) and the string of obscenities was so long… so shocking… “and no one did anything.”  They’d been too dumbstruck to even attempt to, broken toe aside. 

“So I just never stopped,” she snorted and leaned back in her chair.  She lifted a chip to her mouth and chewed quickly, swallowing before she added, “life’s been easier ever since.”  A wry grin worked its way over her features and she nudged him under the table with her good foot, playfully rubbing at his calf, “besides, that’s nothing compared to ‘letting it all out’ in front of your family, right?” 

Callie looked up suddenly, crisp poised in the air, ready to be eaten but now still.  “What about Grandma and Papa?” she asked, earnest and wide-eyed. 

Margo couldn’t contain her grin.  “Yes, Nate.  What about them?”

Callie and Margo got along well. Sometimes too well. Too well for his own well-being. At least, Nate reasoned, they got along. Margo wasn't somebody who liked children in general, so the fact that she liked Calliope was either a sign that his kid was great, or that she was a smartass terror. Those two traits didn't have to be mutually exclusive, but in the case of children they usually were.

"Grandma and Papa?" He raised his eyebrows, "I, uh." His parents cussed in front of him of course, but it had been very clear from a young age that he was not allowed to use those words. "Grandma's from the south, so... The worst I can say to her is 'bless your heart.'" Nate managed to take a bite of a fry, "Uh, so don't say Margo words around Grandma and Papa." He thought about his dad though. Maaaybe he wouldn't be too upset, but the habit to not cuss in front of them ran deep.

"They both curse though. Especially if they think I'm not listening."

That did not go how Margo wanted it to.  She was very fond of flustering Nate.  As she understood it, without probably even registering that she did so, Margo assumed Callie did too.  But there he was, being cool about everything and just explaining.  He was too much like his parents sometimes, seriously.  They hadn’t even blinked an eye[1]  She frowned just a little bit.  He had been nowhere near that cool that day. How was he doing it in front of his daughter? 

Ah well.  She tried.  Didn’t mean that she couldn’t mess with him another way.  Making sure that it was the good foot she was using, she flexed her ankle and managed to snake her foot out of her well-worn boot.  Sure, she had a sock on, but you know, it was probably bad form to have bare feet out at your own bar. 

She slid her foot up his calf and just… you know… the calf bone’s connected to the knee bone and the knee bone’s connected to the thigh bone… or whatever it was.  Margo was just doing a basic anatomy lesson… for herself.  Under a table.  In front of his kid.  But, Callie was none the wiser.  Chips were so much more interesting.  Decidedly, this did not make Margo any better of a person.  Probably made her a worse person, honestly. 

She had lost all track of whatever he was talking about.  Something about his parents.  Even better.  Why was that becoming a theme?  Was she gross?  A pause: if this had been a magic eight ball moment, it’d say “all signs point to yes.”  Whatever.  It was her life.  No non-sentient ball with a weird thing floating in sparkle water could judge her.  The hell if she would let it. 

“Callie's much smarter than to do that," Margo winked at the little girl (who again, paid her about as much attention as she would a nargle) and she turned her eyes to Nate, just ever-so-slightly moving her foot again, "Have a busy afternoon?" she asked, tilting her head to the side, feigning innocence in the only way she could: like a shit head.

1.	Thread.  In case anyone forgot.  Or, you know, wants to revisit the greatest moment of Margo’s life.

Margo had that look on her face. It was subtle, but Nate now knew her well enough to know what it meant. It meant she had a probably ill-advised idea and that she was going to act on it immediately. God fucking damn, Margo. Why. Why did Nate choose to have her in his life? He gave her a look of subtle dread just moments before he felt a foot creep up his leg, past his knee... He nearly choked on his fish.

Callie slammed her hands on the the table and looked from Nate to Margo. "I am going to pee." She declared, climbing down from her seat. "Don't eat my food. I counted." She paused for a moment, "Please." Cal gave them an appraising stare. "Margo is winning footsie."

She skipped away to the bathroom and Nate just wanted to die.

"You," He hissed, "Are Satan."

If this were an official game or competition, Margo would definitely be winning.  Never mind that Nate had never agreed to these rules.  Obviously, she was still winning.  Clearly, he didn’t hate it that much was evident.  It also made Margo sit up a little taller, her grin widening as she wiggled her toes because she couldn’t let him not almost die from choking as well. 

It looked like she would have another opportunity to ruin his life in a much more verbal way – Callie was going to the bathroom. Excellent.  She wouldn’t have to hear the next ’Margo Words’ that would come out of her mouth.  Thus, she nodded along to Callie’s demand and expected she’d dart off, just like she usually did. 

But, she didn’t.  Oh, she certainly didn’t.  ”Margo is winning footsie.”  As soon as she laughed, she was almost ashamed that her first thought was that even Callie could see she won.  Almost ashamed being the key.  Flopping down onto the table, Margo laughed heartily.  She braced her foot against his thigh, making sure to avoid buckling her knee as she wiped tears on her forearm.  That was the best laugh she’d had in ages! 

Turning her head to the side, Margo peered up at him, looking like a cat that just got thrown in the tub, and smiled so wide her cheeks hurt.  Batting her eyelashes, Margo giggled at him, still trying to find enough air to fill her lungs after that great laugh.  “But I’m so fun,” and now that she was controlled enough again, she decided to shift her foot again and prove it,, “besides,” this was more pointed, “I know you like it.” 

Mortified, absolutely mortified, Nate stared at Margo as she laughed at his pain. His feelings and not-so-delicate sensibilities were being fist-fucked by fiendfyre. Not even in a good way.

And she laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed.

Merlin, how long could this go? And how long could he stay quiet for? It was like something imploded in his brain and he could no longer form coherent thoughts. Finally, she settled down, wiping literal tears from her eyes. When her foot moved, he thought that maybe she would be moving it away But no. It couldn't be that simple. She couldn't be that benevolent. And he was a fool to think that for one second.

Nate tried to keep a serious face on, "I don't have a foot fetish, Margo." Alas, his voice cracked at the last syllable as he choked down a laugh. Ridiculous. This was completely ridiculous.

And it started all over again.  Margo’s sides actually hurt from how hard she was laughing.  Nate looked like a blood vessel in his brain might have popped- she was honestly surprised that his eyes were not filling up with blood at this very moment. 

But nope, when she looked up and he still had that look on his face, Margo buried her head back in the crook of her arm, trying to hold back the tears.  Her nose was even running.  Grasping around with her good hand she felt for napkins and when she finally grabbed one, brought it to her eyes and nose. 

This was honestly the best laugh she’d had in a long time.  It had been worth the whole thing, and as a reward, she withdrew her foot from his chair and sniffed a couple of times before scooting up on her elbows.  “I know that,” she grinned, “but you do have a me-fetish.”

Margo pushed herself up and in the absence of Callie leaned over the table and caught him in a kiss that she quickly attempted to make far less than chaste.  She gave him one more quick peck before ‘booping’ him on the nose.  “It’s not your fault,” she added sympathetically, “I’m irresistible.” 

Everything about Margo was so completely, utterly obnoxious. Including her laugh. He waited patiently for her to finish, the corner of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a smile. No. He was not going to encourage her! She was incorrigible enough as it was.

He startled a moment. Was she going to squish some food on his face? Force beer down his throat? She was a wild card, Nate couldn't usually predict what she'd do next. But he was never, never opposed to a kiss. Especially when Callie wasn't around. He kissed Margo back with an eagerness (and a bit of anxiety) that indicated that he usually only had so much time before he was walked in on. Usually by his daughter and secretary. Sometimes by his parents.

A bar patron wolf-whistled, and he hastily pulled away.

"You are. You should try, y'know... Being resistible." Not exactly what most women like hearing, but this was Margo. She could handle it.

He could try all he wanted, but Margo knew, deep, deep, deep, deep down in the pit of his heart, he found it as funny as she did.  He was just a little more uptight than her about it (probably cuz of the kid).  The man wore sasquatch printed shirts, for God’s sake, how truly uptight could he be?  Plus, he had been married to a dragon tamer (a colleague… weirdly enough) so one didn’t even have to get to the fact that she knew how he was raised. Perry and Molly wouldn’t raise someone who wasn’t at least a little on the wild side. 

His enthusiastic return on the kiss seemed to agree.  Though, at the slightest indication that they’d been noticed, he retreated.  She glanced over and rolled her eyes.  “Hope you got your eyeful,” she called out before returning her attention to Nate, subconsciously running her tongue over her bottom lip and lingering in the corner.  There was salt there.  Probably from the chips. 

While his comment might have made someone else shrink in mortification, Margo beamed.  She dropped in her chair with victory.  “I’m afraid that’s impossible, boy-o,” she leaned back with her arms folded under her chest, still smirking.  “Perhaps you try to have some self control, huh?” 

As she raised her eyebrows at him, challenging, Callie bounded back to the table.  She put her hands on the surface and with a very serious look between the two of them, she sighed.  “Did Margo win another game?” she asked, blowing some air of the corner of her mouth hard enough that it probably could have blown her braid to the side.  She crawled into her seat and fastidiously counted each chip on her plate while pointing out, ”You should know by now, you never win, Dad.”  In that moment, Margo had never realized she could be this proud.  Truly, this child was phenomenal.  She looked to Nate with the widest of smiles and winked, obnoxiously at him. 

It was official: his life sucked.

With an expression that wasn't anything less than pure dismay, he stole one of Callie's fries. She protested, but not for long. She knew how to share. He wasn't paying for her to go to daycare at The Mandrake Patch for her to not know how to share. Only children had a tendency to be self absorbed and straight up spoiled (thankfully, he grew up with a younger brother). Nate was trying to counteract that by having her spend time with other kids her age.

Unfortunately, Callie had a bossy streak, and had gotten in trouble multiple times for accidentally angering other children. She was getting better, but still. It was something they were working on. Nate assumed she got that trait from her mom.

"Yeah, I usually lose." Nate agreed.

Callie gave Margo a very serious look. "Phoenix never loses."

"Uh huh." Nate said, in the kind, abiding way that parents usually did when referring to a child's favorite toy being referenced, or an imaginary friend. "Sure he does."