First of all, I'M OUT OF PRACTICE. It's been a long time since I've fanfictioned anything, so I'm trying to get back in the game with something... different? I had a lot of fun writing this, even if it's actually terrible!

Note: I think this qualifies as a crack!fic. You guys... I don't even know how this story happened. My fingers started to type and... well. It's safe to say this is more parody than narrative. Please don't take it too seriously.

I'm NOT the narrator in this story. (T for violence and a few almost swears) Long A/N to follow.

Disclaimer: If I'm Michael Buckley, my parents have some serious explaining to do.

The first thing she notices about the room is the dead goldfish.

That pales in comparison to the second thing she notices, but the belly-up yellow fish really catches her eye. Maybe because it's huge – I'm talking big as your body, mama mia!, feeds seven third-world countries, mother of all goldfish here – or maybe because it's hanging upside-down from the ceiling with streamers coming off of it that sparkle with the words RALPH'S FISHMART'S 70TH ANIVERESERY (complete with misspellings) written in cheap glitter that sheds onto the blue, stained carpet.

Or maybe because it stinks like… well… like a hundred pound fish hanging from the ceiling of a grimy tack shack in the middle of Hicksville Texas.

She decides it's probably the glitter.

"Congrats and all," she wheezes, hiking a blond eyebrow towards the sparkling ornament, "but am I the only one who thinks this is a bit much?"

Something heavy and metal slams into the side of chest with a sharp crack, sending another burst of pain through her ribs and making her knees buckle.

Oh.

Right.

The second thing.

Standing underneath Godzilla's pet goldfish is a man with greasy yellow hair and a grimy sneer. He's circling around her like a vulture, swinging his lead pipe in slow, menacing circles. His shades are tinted blue. She can tell that they're cheap because the color is peeling off of the lenses, and they sit awkward and bent on his slim face. The cigar mushed between his teeth is dropping ash as he walks, making a ring of white dust around her. The man's dirty green T-shirt has the same logo as the banners (without the flamboyant sparkles), but its celebratory phrase loses its cheer somewhere between the dried blood on the shirt and the fact that he's going to kill her.

Yes, that's right. Kill her.

Slowly and painfully, if he has anything to say about it.

"I'm going to ask you again," the vulture says. The smell of his sweat overpowers the smell of the fish when he leans close to her. "Who are you really?"

Sabrina Grimm

Age: 15

Code Name: The Sneak

Famous for capturing criminals in the name of twisted justice.

Infamous for being a first-rate criminal herself.

Sabrina swallows. Hard. It takes too long for her to stop and think about how to get out of this – 'cause, heck, she can barely breathe at the moment, let alone form an escape plan. Her hands are tied above her head, the rope wrapping around an aluminum beam on the ceiling, keeping Sabrina partially suspended, and it hurts. She twists her wrists, trying to find a flaw in the man's knot-making, but she can't slip out of the coarse rope.

Maybe the guy was a first-rate Boy Scout once. Or maybe he's had enough practice killing people to know how to tie them up correctly.

... It's probably the latter.

Usually, Sabrina is immune to being trapped like this. She's a sneak. She's supposed to get in, do the job, and get out without anyone noticing she was there. This time, things didn't exactly go to plan, and this time she isn't sure backup will be on the way. So basically, now would be a great time to start freaking out.

The vulture stops walking. He grabs her long hair and yanks Sabrina towards him. His too-thin face isn't an inch away from her own, and she can almost feel the alcohol on his breath.

"Who. Are. You. Hmm?" His voice has the rumble of an eighty-year old smoker. "Answer the question, girlie," he growls.

A second passes.

Two.

Ten.

She doesn't answer the question.

And she's no girlie.

The man lets her go when she doesn't respond, then backhands her so forcefully her head snaps to the side. He circles her again, but his voice is wavering with anxiety and his pace is faster, like he's running out of time.

Note: Sabrina Grimm is, first and foremost, a liar.

"You lied about being Lisa Woodrik-" the man slams the pipe into her back, and she screams.

"You're not a cop-" Whack! She doesn't scream this time, just gasps for air as her vision starts to darken.

The vulture laughs coldly, insanely, and there's a dangerous light in his eyes that matches the end of his cigar as he sucks in a deep breath of smoke. "Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you don't even exist." He grips her face roughly, jerking her head to look him in his cheaply clad eyes. "Such a pretty little thing, too. Don't know what agency you're workin' for, darlin', but I think they'll get the message when I ship you to them in a box."

Sabrina smiles through the blood in her mouth. "Agency? No, I'm not with the government." That, at least, isn't a lie.

"No?"

"No." She laughs weakly. "I'm just here to make a point."

A greasy eyebrow raises. "And what point is that, girlie?"

"That we Grimms never forgive, and never forget."

…

This is the moment where something spectacular is supposed to happen.

If this had been a film, she would've magically gained back her strength, untied her bound wrists, ninja kicked the guy into a different dimension, and all while awesome action-movie music blared in the background. This isn't a movie though. This is real life. She can't save herself this time, and it doesn't look like anyone is coming to save her.

Yellow-hair contorts his mouth in what Sabrina can only assume is a smile. "All right, girlie, you're wasting my time. You ain't the first thief to come in here, and you certainly won't be the first one to come out alive." He chuckles. "Give my regards to-"

Then the wall explodes. Like, literally.

The cabin rumbles. Drywall, dust, and shrapnel blast away from the east wall, the sheer force snapping the rope keeping Sabrina tied to the ceiling, and hurling the vulture back into the far corner of the smelly cabin. She can feel the impact of the blast thrumming in her chest as she falls to her knees, biting back a cry of pain.

There's no break in the chaos as a bright orange projectile slams straight into the vulture's face, spraying mucus colored gunk over his eyes and into his yellow hair. The man's screams are muffled as his dirty fingernails claw desperately at his face, cigar flying out of his mouth and cheap shades snapping at the impact.

Two more grenades fly through the rubble, slamming into his hands and pinning him in sick glop. The third explodes right over the vulture's mouth, snapping back the man's head so hard it renders him unconscious. The cabin creaks and groans, and Sabrina can hear a dull ringing in her ear.

Well.

Talk about spectacular.

Save for the dull whirl of a fire alarm and the hiss of the sprinklers, there's a silence as the dust from the demolished wall settles, and Sabrina hauls herself off the carpeted floor to glare at the figure standing coolly in the rubble.

The boy grins at her. "Am I late?"

"I'm going to skin you alive, Pusbrain."

The newly dubbed 'Pusbrain' tuts at her as he saunters over, smirking and swaggering so much it takes every bit of Sabrina's self control not to strangle him right then. "You worry too much, Grimm. I had everything under control!" He unsheathes a dagger and cuts the ties around her wrists.

"Obviously," Sabrina growls, gesturing to her battered disposition, and then wincing from the movement.

'Pusbrain' rolls his eyes, grabs her wrist, and pulls her towards the newly made exit route. "Oh c'mon Sabrina, it's not like I didn't…" his voice trails off as his green eyes catch sight of the gigantic goldfish. "Whoa… Who went fishing near a nuclear power plant?" he asks, clearly impressed.

"I'll ship you to a nuclear power plant," she grumbles, yanking her wrist out of the boy's grip. "And what happened to the trick lock you were going to use on the door to keep ol' grease face locked in his office?"

The boy's lips curve downward into a frown. "That was…"

Name: Robin Goodfellow.

[Aka: Puck. Aka: Master of all things bad and rotten. Aka:… you get the idea.]

Age: Debatable. He looks like he's fifteen, acts like he's seven, and he's been alive for thousands of years. Average that out if you want.

Code Name: Trickster King

Famous for his pranks, deception, and insatiable appetite.

Infamous for being an idiotic genius.

Puck scowls. "Don't blame this on me, Grimm. If you would've gotten your fat butt out of here in time, I wouldn't have had to come and save you so heroically." He coughs harshly, waving the powdery dust particles away from his face. "You know how I feel about being heroic."

"Oh, I'm sorry, was my being beaten half to death ruining your 'cool guy' façade or something? How inconsiderate of me. Next time I'll try to die faster. Wouldn't want you to have to lift a finger or anything, now would I?" she says with as much scathing facetiousness as she can muster. When he opens his mouth to retort she makes an audible sound of disgust and rolls her eyes. "Sometimes I think you do stupid stuff like this on purpose."

Note: Puck – the Trickster King; the Imp; the Prince of snips, snails, and puppy dog tails – always does stupid stuff like this on purpose. He refers to his antics as the 'spice of life.' If he offers this spice to you at the dinner table, decline.
He probably intends on farting.

Puck makes a dissatisfied click with his tongue. "Well did you at least get what you came for, Grimm?"

He tries not to be too obvious about examining Sabrina, but he really can't help it. She looks like she's been through hell. Her hair is all bloody and gross, she's swaying a bit on her feet, her hands are cracked and dirty, and she's even more pale than usual. Her blue eyes are still on fire though, and she holds herself tall despite the pain.

Gods, she's beautiful.

For a human, that is.

Wait. You missed that part? I thought it was clear by the shameless flirting and PG sexual tension pulsing through their dialogue. I guess I'll spell it out for you.

As succinctly as I can put it, Puck, the master of all things disgusting and dastardly…

… is in love.

That's right, kids.

Love.

After thousands of years running from responsibilities, marriage, and baths, Puck has been snared by one Sabrina Grimm. He's fallen for her. Hard. Like, can't eat, can't sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, world series kinda hard. I'm afraid there's no going back.

A moment of silence to honor our fallen comrade.

Sabrina glares harder when she catches him staring at her. He doesn't have the decency to look away and pretend like he wasn't looking (besides, when he makes unwavering eye-contact with her, her nose scrunches up and her face gets splotchy red and it's darn cute), but he's smart enough to keep his mouth shut for once. If there was ever a time not to ask Sabrina if she's okay, this is probably it.

Sabrina can feel Puck's green eyes on her as she reaches into the front pocket of her jeans and pulls out a small glowing key. "Yeah, yeah, I got what we came for. The creep had it locked away pretty well, but it's mine now." She waves it in front of his face for him look at it for a second, and then closes the key in her fist. "See, Puck? I did my job. You wanna try that sometime?"

"Pass. Sounds like effort." He winks at her again.

This is one of the few times Sabrina doesn't really want to argue. Her head is spinning, she feels sick to her stomach, and if she doesn't finish this mission soon she'll be stuck with bruised and bloody ribs for the rest of the summer. Still.

"You're a real piece of work, aren't you?" She grumbles, begrudgingly hanging her right arm over his shoulders so he can help her walk. "A piece of work, and a piece of sh-"

"It didn't go exactly to plan, I admit," Puck says, smothering a grin as he wraps an arm around her waist and guides her through the rubble. "But we got the creepy glowing key that's probably going to get us killed, we haven't been choked by the smell of the fashion forward goldfish, we trapped the bad guy in an ingenious glop attack-" he smiles smugly at that one -"and we're not dead yet." He calls out ahead of himself into the hole left behind from the explosion. "Not bad for a Monday, wouldn't you say Daphne?"

Daphne Grimm

Age: 11

Code Name: The Magician

Famous for being sweet, innocent, and having a cherub like demeanor.

Infamous for manipulation and probably being the most terrifying being ever to have the Grimm name.

But she saves that side of herself for the bad guys.

… Usually.

Daphne's head materializes through the still settling dust, brown pigtails pale from the explosion and scowl firmly in place. "Oh, so now you want my opinion? Never mind asking me what I thought of the stupid plan. No one cared when I suggested going with the good alternative and not relying on thieving. I didn't get to vote on whether it should be taco night or pizza night on Thursday's, but now you wanna know what I think?"

"Not really." Puck grins at the little girl, gently picking Sabrina up (ignoring her weak protests) and jumping through the hole out of the shack.

Daphne rolls her brown eyes as she steps aside and holds her sister's arm to steady her. "I'll tell you what I think. I think this shack smells like old people and fish. And I think if you would've let me use magic, I could've-"

"No." Sabrina winces when she talks. She doesn't push her sister's hand away as Puck sets her down – she doesn't push Puck away either, for that matter, because she secretly appreciates their concern – but she doesn't acknowledge it either. "No, Daphne, magic is cheating."

Daphne's arms cross resolutely. "I think you're just saying that because you can't use it."

Sabrina's eyes flash sharply at her sister, and Daphne flinches back a step. "Magic is a short cut," Sabrina says through gritted teeth. "It completely defeats the purpose of doing this in the first place, and you rely too much on it."

"But that's not fair!-"

"Hey!" Puck yells, cutting off the fight. "You two can argue passive aggressively later." He holds up his wrist and taps an imaginary watch. "Time limit. Remember? I don't want to get stuck doing this awful mission again."

Sabrina sighs. "Speaking of which…" Her blue eyes look stormy as she scans their surroundings. Dusty road, equally dusty shrubbery, bright afternoon sun shining from an angle, and a stray cat hobbling past the rubble and into the shack as if exploding bait-and-tackle shops are a weekly occurrence. "Shouldn't this level of the simulation be over by now? I mean, I got the key, we're all together again, we should be done. The mission has been achieved. That's usually when we get sucked back into The Hall of Wonders."

Daphne frowns deeper, squinting up at the sky as if she would be able to see the familiar quatrefoil ceiling if she concentrates hard enough. She gnaws on her lip.

"I knew this was a bad idea. I said – I said that we shouldn't go into the Virtual Reality Room without Dad or Mom - or someone - controlling everything." She looks at Sabrina again, gesticulating forcefully as if to make her point. "Look at you! You're practically game over! A responsible adult would've stopped the level right when things got hairy."

"Stop worrying, Marshmallow," Puck says, patting her head coolly. He takes his arm off Sabrina's waist, and Sabrina curses herself for missing the contact. "Jake's normally the one who runs all of my scenarios, and he definitely isn't a responsible adult. The levels quit on their own when we complete the task we came here to do. No one has to control it. It's made so that people can go through the challenges by themselves."

Sabrina stiffly crosses her arms, mimicking her sisters position. "Well Mr. Smarty-pants, if you know so much then why isn't the scenario over yet?"

Puck's ever-present smirk gets even smirkier. "There's gotta be more to the mission."

The Grimm sisters synchronously make an unhappy noise.

Daphne watches her sister as the older girl glares at her boyfriend. Even though she looks pretty badly off, there's something alive in her eyes that Daphne hasn't seen for a long time. Sabrina is always adamant that she's happy with her 'normal' life in New York City, but Daphne isn't sure that's the case. The moment their family started planning for their summer vacation, Sabrina was the one to insist that they take Granny Relda to Spain so she could recreate some of the photos she took with her husband Basil. Granny's health, however, was failing. Instead of Barcelona, Henry, Veronica, Sabrina, and Daphne had all decided to spend their vacation in Ferryport Landing.

Sabrina and Daphne had moped around the small town for weeks like depressed sea monkeys, until Granny introduced them to the Virtual Reality Room. She had said it was "a taste of the adventures that they used to have," and she hadn't been lying. The girls could make up crazy superhero identities, go on silly "missions" in foreign lands, or do just about anything. For all Sabrina's insistence that she wanted normal, she couldn't resist the chance to live a life of daring for a while each week.

When Puck returned from a magic-hunting trip to India a few weeks later with Uncle Jake, he kicked their little games up a notch by making it go in levels. Now, the same identities could follow them around as they completed increasingly difficult missions. It was like truly living a double life. The mistakes they made in the past, the power-ups they gained in other levels, they all pile up higher and higher. The "perfect mix of technology and magic" is what Uncle Jake had called the V-R Room once.

Which is, Daphne figures, why Sabrina has become so obsessed with it.

Sabrina studies Puck, turning his words over in her mind until they fit into her mental puzzle. Dry, Texas wind kicks her stringy hair into her face. "What do you mean, 'more to the mission'? This isn't the right key?" She asks, nodding to her pocket.

Puck shrugs. "I didn't say that."

"So," Daphne adds, "We need to find what the key opens?"

"Didn't say that either."

Sabrina growls. "Well you better start saying something real fast, or I'm going to take my foot and put it all the way up your-"

"Sabrina!" Daphne chides. "Can we just start from the beginning, please? What exactly did the mission say?"

"It just said 'Find the magic key'!" The yelling is making her dizzy. If she isn't careful, her knees will buckle and she'll look like a useless idiot for the seventh time today. Sabrina eases herself to the ground, goes into her pocket and waves the shimmering key in the air once more. "It's glowing, Daph. It's got cursive writing on it. It was well protected. It smells like old nachos. It has literally every indicator that magic is involved. Magic. Key."

Daphne rubs at her temples, pacing in circles as her mind tries to work out an idea. Her feet kick up dust as she drags them, turning her blue converse a sad greyish color.

Puck groans. "Look, I didn't sign up for all this effort. Deal was, Grimms do the work and I get the glory. Since it's so much trouble to finish this thing, we should just do a hard reset. If one of us dies, it's game over and we can all go back to the Hall of Wonders. That's the rule, right?"

"You wanna be the hero who takes his own life for the team?" Sabrina asks incredulously, eyebrow raised.

"Hero is your job, Grimm. I was just volunteering to pull the trigger."

She sneers. "I will not hesitate to taze you, Puck."

"Just taze? Not maim or kill? Oh Sabrina, I had no idea you cared so much." He plops down next to her, making a kissy face and she rolls her eyes. After a moment, his smile falters. "But seriously. Blue sunglasses guy did a number on you. You look like a zombie that's been through a microwave."

Sabrina leans her head on his shoulder, scowling. His hoodie smells like paint. "Wow. Thanks. You do wonders for my self-esteem," she says, deadpan.

His arm goes around her waist again. Right where it should always be. "You're right. Sorry. You don't look nearly as cool as a microwaved zombie."

Sabrina chuckles in spite of herself. "You're corrupting my sense of humor. I really have to break up with you."

Daphne gasps, spinning around to look at the two of them. She claps her hands together, a light going off in her eyes. "Yes! That's it!"

Puck's face goes blank. "…Should I be offended?"

"Key! Key! I need the key!" Daphne's hopping giddily from foot to foot. The little girl's palm quickly finds her mouth while her other hand reaches for the glowing key, and she makes the excited noises of a baby chimp. Sabrina passes the key to her, curious, and watches Daphne inspect it. Apparently the girl finds what she's looking for. She squeals once, and smiles brightly at the two teenagers. "Do you remember the books we used to read in the orphanage before bed? They always said, 'reading is the Magic key to take you where you want to be.'" She pauses, eyebrows raised like she expects Sabrina to follow her. "Get it? Magic key?"

Sabrina frowns. "Having trouble puttin' two and two together here, Daph."

"There are words on the key, 'Brina!" Daphne turns the magic item over so Sabrina can see the tiny inscription on the side. "You have to read the words to get us out of here!"

"Me?" Sabrina watches her little sister's head bob up and down like a bobble-head on caffeine. "I… okay?" Daphne passes the key over to Sabrina, and the older girl inspects the lettering. "Um… it says, 'My love, I think you're great, so let's go on a date.'"

Sabrina squints at the key for three seconds, trying to figure out what the inscription means. Love? Date? Why would the greasy vulture be protecting a key with a poem on it? What did the poem mean? Who wrote...

Oh.

Oh.

She turns her head to glare at Puck, to give him a piece of her mind or something because she's just about had it with the funny business, but the simulation has already faded away.

One second they're in Texas, and the next they're back in the red-paneled room in the Hall of Wonders as the helmets turn themselves off. It's always disorienting coming out of the simulations. Sabrina shakes her head forcefully, as if she can somehow shake off the imagined world, and unbuckles the belts wrapped around her chest. She takes a deep breath, slowly and wincing, and sighs it out when she finds that she can breathe without pain. Her head feels fuzzy, but her body is at one-hundred percent again. Which is good.

She's gonna need all her strength to beat Puck into the ground.

To clarify: It's not that Sabrina is angry. She's just a little confused about what the poem means, and a little nervous about how she's supposed to respond, and Sabrina Grimm's go-to in times of social awkwardness is to cause someone somewhere physical pain.

Not the best defense mechanism, but certainly not the worst.

Daphne's smiling coyly at her sister from her V-R seat. "You are living the crazy version of a teenage romance novel. You know that?"

Sabrina huffs in reply. She can see Puck out of the corner of her eye. He's not gloating, not chuckling, not winking or swaggering or joking. He's so calm, unbuckling himself from his seat, stretching a bit, studying his shoe laces intently as though the strings somehow hold all the secrets of the world.

If it were anyone else, Sabrina would take the behavior as embarrassed. But it's Puck. She knows Puck – heck, it feels like she's always known Puck, like he was always somehow there in her memories, and she just couldn't see him before – and she knows embarrassed Puck doesn't get quiet. Embarrassed Puck becomes more Obnoxious. When he's like this... Sabrina shakes her head slightly. The big goof is afraid.

Afraid of what? Of her?

Sabrina scowls. "Really, Puck? You set this whole thing up? Is having your girlfriend beat to a pulp your definition of a romantic date or something? Just, you know, for future reference." She doesn't mean to sound angry. She's trying to be playful – flirty, even – but her defensive procedures are kicking in.

Oh gosh. She's really not good at this.

Puck shrugs. His eyes are glued to the floor. "I didn't… I couldn't think of a way to… you know. Ask you out."

"You didn't ask me out. You set up a spy mission, and then tricked me into agreeing to go on a date with you."

"I was… trying to be romantic." Puck's lips are scrunched up, his face turning a deep red as he stuffs his chin into the pockets of his jeans. He shakes his head. "I mean, Jake told me I should be creative, and… But whatever." His shoulders hunch. "I don't really want to go on a date with you anyway. You're ugly and stupid. I just thought that maybe you wanted…" He toes at the hard floor angrily. "Whatever."

Puck's social awkwardness defense system isn't much better than Sabrina's, apparently.

Sabrina combs a hand through her hair. "I'm not saying it wasn't romantic! That's the cutest thing anyone's ever done for me, you idiot! But did flowers and chocolate never occur to you? Or maybe just, 'hey, we kinda just agreed to be together, but we've never officially been on a date. Wanna do that sometime?'"

Puck's green eyes shoot up to her. "Well, I'm sorry for trying to make your first date proposal thingy memorable, snoutmouth. I promise never to be thoughtful again."

"That's not what I want, pigbreath!"

"Then what?!"

"I don't want to feel like I was tricked into going out with you! Like our whole relationship is just a big hoodwink! Could you just ask me out, please? Normally?"

"Fine!" He chews on his lip for a second, and then yells, "Will you go out with me?"

"YES!"

Sabrina starts at the words coming out of her mouth. She didn't think before she said them, but she doesn't want to take them back. Despite everything... Sabrina does want to go on a date with her boyfriend. A nice, proper date. With candles and moonlight and no crazy monsters popping up and stealing her breadsticks at dinner. She wants that more than anything.

Puck blinks awkwardly. "…Okay then?"

"Okay." Sabrina sucks in a deep breath. It's official. She's going out with the Trickster King. She smiles in spite of herself. "It's always so complicated with you, isn't it?"

"Complicated with me? Did you forget your name is Sabrina Grimm?" Puck is smiling too. Really smiling. Not the smirk he gives to tease her or the grin that tells her he's up to no good. A real, genuinely happy smile. It makes her heart sore.

She laughs. "Okay, how did I make this complicated?"

"You make me make things complicated! You're a very scary person!"

"How am I scary?" She rolls her eyes and playfully punches his arm. "I'm not scary. You're an idiot."

He puts a hand on her shoulder, looking her directly in the eye. "Yes you are. You're terrifying!" He grabs her hand, and she can feel that his palms are sweaty. Puck places hand on his chest, and she can feel his heart hammering on his ribs. "You're the only thing in the world I'm scarred of. Is that bad?"

Her mouth feels dry, and her own heart rate starts to quicken. "I... you're scared of baths too."

He laughs, and his head dips and touches her forehead. His green eyes look flecked with gold when they're this close to her, and she can't seem to look away from them. "Okay, there's a limited amount of sappiness my body can withstand, and I've just about maxed out. You gonna kiss me or what?"

Daphne clears her throat loudly to remind the couple of her presence. "I'll take that as my cue to leave." Her words seem to bounce right off of the two without being heard, but that doesn't bother her much. She slides out of the room, grin so wide it threatens to split her cheeks, and starts to sprint down the Hall of Wonders. Puck always did know how to execute a plan. She giggles. "Looks like 'Operation Dried Up Fig' was a success after all."

If you're reading this, Puck... well, first of all how did you get my family journal? Are you stalking me? Do you watch me while I sleep like a pink-winged Edward Cullen? 'Cause that's creepy, bro.

And second... I know you love my sister. Deny it all you want, but I have innumerable stories that I could tell to prove to the world how much you love her.

I don't know how to prove it to you.

But if you don't get it together, she's going to move on and you're going to be stuck in perpetual singletude for another two-thousand years. And the girl you meet in the future won't even compare to how amazing Sabrina is.

If you're reading this, Sabrina- ignore everything I just said. You aren't all that amazing. Really. I'm just trying to convince your idiot ex-boyfriend to take you off my hands.

And would it be so hard for you to apologize to him first? You're stubborn, Bri, but don't be so stubborn you ruin your life.

Just... I wrote this memory down for you guys. So. Remember it.

~Basil Grimm

(Did anyone catch my "it takes two" quote, or am I actually getting old?)

Was the Virtual reality thing too far? I just figured if anyone in the world had something like that, it would be the Grimms and Captain John Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. ... He's not in this story though.

My writing is really rusty, I know. Please let me know what you think I should improve! I value constructive criticism.

If you think Daphne is out of character... you may be right. However, I wrote her this way because - after revisiting the series - I feel like in a lot of ways she takes after her father. I also feel like I was cheated out of complex!Daphne in the books. I wanted s'more Marshmallow! (that pun was great - shut up)

I have this headcanon that Basil Grimm becomes an amazing fantasy writer, because after he's old enough to remember things, all the Grimm excitement has basically subsided. They live in New York, they deal with the occasional crazy Everafter, but nothing is as intense as it used to be. Daphne and Sabrina tell him stories of all the wild adventures they used to have, and he learns how to write by documenting them. It's his way of living the adventure.

I also have the headcanon that Basil Grimm is a sarcastic little punk who took too many notes from the Trickster King before Sabrina and Puck broke up, and he's full of dangerous wit.

And, in explanation to the note Basil leaves us at the end of the story, I also have the headcanon that Sabrina and Puck broke up because she kept trying to change him. Like, "Don't let out your wings anymore, and stop talking about Everafters, and can't you just show up to my college like a normal boyfriend and not in a Faerie chariot, and stop being so loud" and so on. And he was a jerk and exacerbated the problem by going out of his way to upset the life that Sabrina was trying to make for herself, going so far as to ruin her applications to law school or trying to trap her into situations with lots of Everafters. And maybe they tried to be friends after the break up, but they both knew it couldn't work. And then... he disappeared. Sabrina met Bradley, was about to marry herself a normal guy and live the life she thought she wanted.. and we all know the rest, right?

To me, these ideas are fact. I just wanted to explain my mind a bit, to lessen a little of the confusion, and I didn't feel like they worked well in the story.

Maybe instead of writing these down in an A/N, I should just write them out as stories. Huh. That's a thought.

What'd the reader say to the 'review' button? "I'd tap that!"

Haha, no but seriously. Tap that button. You made it this far! Please leave me a review!