#i want gummy frogs instead of worms anyway

[butchyena]

i want to make cups of dirt but my gf doesnt like chocolate that much so what if i got blonde oreos and crushed them at the bottom and colors vanilla pudding blue and put gummy sharks on top….

[marauders-venting]

Prongslet & His Family

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: fluff

warnings: brief mentions of death and grief

words: 4707

a/n: this was a request from @ barsha3447 on instagram and @moonyandandy on tumblr!!

Sirius was crossing the parking lot to Harry’s kindergarten. He could feel the eyes of some of the parents staring at him, judging him, but that just made him smirk and hold his head higher. He leaned against the wall and checked his watch. Harry should be out any minute now.

As soon as the door to the classroom opened, the kids came spilling out. Harry ran at Sirius and jumped into his arms. Sirius picked him up and kissed the top of his head.

“Uncle Padfoot!” Harry said. “Look what I drew.” He held out a piece of paper far too close to Sirius’ face. Sirius leaned his head back a little and looked at the drawing. It was a stick figure holding a proportionally over-large chocolate bar. And next to the stick figure was something that Sirius assumed was supposed to be him in his animagus form. In between the two was another stick figure, a much smaller one, with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

“Miss Amy told us to draw our family,” Harry said. Sirius felt his heart twinge. On one hand, it made him so happy that Harry had drawn them as a family. But on the other, Sirius couldn’t help but feel that it should be Lily and James in that drawing.

“It’s really good,” Sirius told him. “You’re a great artist, Prongslet.” Sirius had only gone back to using the nickname recently. The reminder had been too heavy for the first few years after Lily and James’ death. But now Harry was almost 6 years old and Sirius wanted him to remember his parents. He wanted Harry to know how similar he is to James. And Sirius thought James would appreciate it. He owed James that, at least. “Come on, Harry, let’s go to the car.”

“Bye-bye, Neville,” Harry said, waving to Neville who was standing beside his grandmother showing her his own drawing. Remus and Sirius had, after much persuasion, convinced Augusta to send Neville to the same kindergarten as Harry. That way they’d both have a familiar face with them at their new school. Now Neville and Harry had playdates almost every day.

“Bye-bye, Harry,” Neville said, smiling and waving back.

Sirius took Harry back to the car and strapped him into the booster seat in the back.

“We have to go to the supermarket, Harry,” Sirius said, “because Uncle Moony said we should go yesterday and we didn’t. But I’ll let you pick out something yummy if you behave the whole time, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry said excitedly.

When they got to the supermarket, Sirius loaded a cart with everything they needed and then waited with surprising patience as Harry debated whether he wanted gummy worms or Smarties.

“Uncle Padfoot,” Harry said, turning away from the candy and looking up at his godfather, “can we visit Uncle Moony’s work today?”

“Uncle Moony has a lot to do today, Harry,” Sirius said. Remus had told him that morning that he’d be home late; he had loads of essays to mark before his students had to sit their exams. Sirius didn’t want to disturb him if he was under pressure.

“We can bring him something yummy to cheer him up!” Harry said, holding up a large bar of chocolate. Sirius smiled at him.

“Okay, we’ll surprise him then,” Sirius said. Remus’ last class of the day ended soon anyway; Sirius had memorized his schedule by now. “But we can’t stay there too long, Harry. Hey, if we’re going into Hogsmeade, why don’t we buy candy at Honeydukes instead? Remember the store with the chocolate frogs?”

“Yeah, I want the froggies!” Harry said.

Once they’d paid for their groceries and arrived at home, Sirius put everything away and held Harry’s hand.

“Do you remember how we did this last time?” Sirius asked him.

“Yes,” Harry said. “I need to hold Uncle Padfoot’s hand very, very tight and close my eyes so I don’t get dizzy.”

“Right,” Sirius said. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. He squeezed Sirius’ hands as tightly as he could and Sirius Disapparated.

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Harry standing in one piece. Apparating with Harry always made him nervous, despite being assured that it was safe many times, and he tried to avoid it as much as possible.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Sirius asked.

“Yup!” Harry said. He looked around excitedly, staring in wonder at the enormous castle looming in the distance. Then he turned back to Sirius. “Candy shop!” Then he ran off in the direction of Honeydukes. Sirius laughed and hurried after him. He followed Harry into the shop where the little boy was staring at the candy on the walls.

“You want a chocolate frog?” Sirius asked.

“Can I have a wand?” Harry asked.

“Of course,” Sirius said. “Chocolate or liquorice?”

“Chocolate!” Harry said.

“You take after Moony,” Sirius grinned. He bought one wand for Harry, one for Remus and a packet of Acid Pops. If they were already here he might as well.

“Ready to see Uncle Moony?” Sirius asked once everything was paid for.

“Yeah!” Harry said. Sirius put a finger on his lips indicating that Harry should be quiet and led him to the back of the store, unnoticed by the cashier who had turned to help another customer. Sirius opened the cellar that led to the tunnel connecting Hogsmeade and Hogwarts. He dropped inside and carried Harry into the tunnel as well.

“Uncle Pads, where are we going?” Harry whispered as Sirius sealed it once more.

“To see Uncle Moony,” Sirius said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Too bad we don’t have the map anymore. Oh well, it’s no big deal. Come on, Harry.”

“This isn’t the way to Uncle Moony’s work,” Harry said.

“This, Harry, is a secret path to Hogwarts,” Sirius said.

“Really?” Harry said, his eyes wide.

“Yep.”

“If it’s a secret, how do you know it?” Harry asked.

“You’re old enough now to hear the story, I think,” Sirius said. Harry immediately stood up straighter to make himself look taller and older. “When I was at school, me, your dad and your Uncle Moony used to wander around the castle and we discovered this secret tunnel and lots of other secret tunnels.”

“You did?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius said.

“Even my dad?”

“Yeah, even your dad,” Sirius said. “It was your dad’s idea to make a map.”

“It was?”

“Uncle Moony helped him with the magic because he’s very smart but your dad and me were the ones who found most of the places together.”

“That’s so cool!” Harry said. “Uncle Pads, was my dad cool?” Sirius almost laughed. James was one of the biggest dorks he’d ever known. But maybe Harry didn’t need to know that quite yet.

“He sure thought he was,” Sirius said. He thought Harry might ask what that meant but he seemed satisfied.

“Were you and my dad best friends?” Harry asked. Sirius felt a lump in his throat. It had been nearly six years since Lily and James had died but this still happened sometimes. Normally, Sirius could talk about them. It wasn’t as bad as it was in the beginning. But sometimes, Sirius still felt like he did then. Helpless without his best friends. Unable to accept that he would never see them again. That Harry would never see them. Sometimes Sirius felt like he would break down at any mention of them. But he couldn’t do that here. So he cleared his throat and answered Harry’s question.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “He was my best friend. He was like my brother, your dad.” Sirius didn’t think he could keep talking about James but Harry just smiled and started running down the tunnel. Sirius took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. It’s okay. It’s okay. Remus’ soothing voice echoed through his head. Sirius opened his eyes and looked at the tunnel walls around him. He chose, instead, to remember all of the happy times he’d had in here. With James, with Lily, with Remus. Sirius kept walking down the tunnel; Harry would be waiting for him. He ran his fingers across the wall as he walked until he found what he was looking for: the letter ‘M’ clumsily carved into the stone wall. Sirius traced the letter with his thumb. The Marauders. He smiled. It’ll be okay.

When Harry and Sirius reached the end of the tunnel and emerged from the hump of the one-eyed witch statue, they headed straight for the staff room. However, on their way there, they were stopped by a familiar voice.

“Mr Black,” said Professor McGonagall from behind him.

“Professor!” Sirius said, turning around with a grin on his face.

“I’m not your teacher anymore, Sirius,” she said.

“Old habit,” Sirius shrugged.

“As I seem to recall,” she started, “during your time here as a student you hardly ever referred to me as your professor, rather you favoured certain nicknames.”

“Well you can’t deny that ‘Minnie’ suits you,” Sirius said. She gave an exasperated sigh but Sirius saw her smile behind the strict lines of her face. “Besides,” he added, “I’m not Mr Black anymore, either.” He flashed his wedding ring in her direction.

“Quite right,” she said, with a small smile. “What are you doing here, Sirius?”

“Aren’t you glad to see me, Minnie?” Sirius grinned but she held the stern gaze. “You’re going to give me detention, aren’t you?”

“As much as I would like to, I’m afraid that’s not within my power anymore,” McGonagall said.

“Such a shame,” Sirius said. “Harry wanted to see his Uncle Remus, didn’t you, Harry?” Sirius added, answering her question at last.

“Well hello there, Harry,” she said. Everything about McGonagall — from her expression to her stance to her voice — softened as she addressed the small boy who was holding his godfather’s hand and hiding shyly behind his leg. “You’ve gotten so big since the last time I saw you. Did you come to see your Uncle Remus?”

“We brought him some chocolate,” Harry said, coming out from behind Sirius and showing her the chocolate wand.

“You did? How thoughtful of you,” she said. “He should be in the staff room by now; he’s finished all his classes, I think. Come with me.” Sirius and Harry followed McGonagall to the staff room. Remus wasn’t there but, much to Sirius’ dismay, Severus Snape was. Sirius resolved to ignore him but the way he was glaring at Harry was infuriating. What could a five-year-old he had never met have possibly done to him?

“Remus must still be in his classroom,” McGonagall said. “I assume you know where it is?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said.

“Would you like a biscuit, Harry?” she said.

“Yes please,” Harry said politely. McGonagall waved her wand and a jar of cookies appeared in her hand. It was the one she normally kept in her office. She handed a biscuit to Harry who took it in both his hands and took a bite.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Come on, Harry,” Sirius said. “Let’s go find Uncle Moony.”

“Yay!” Harry said, taking Sirius’ hand and following him out of the room but not before Sirius could throw a death glare at Snape the Insufferable.

When Sirius knocked on the door of Remus’ classroom and heard his husband’s voice say ‘come in’, he did not expect to walk into a classroom full of students. The surprised look on Remus’ face said that he had not expected his guests either. Harry, however, was unbothered by the students and ran to the front of the room to Remus yelling, “Uncle Moony!”

He jumped into Remus’ arms, who caught him, lifted him and kissed his head, the expression of surprise turning into a smile.

“Hi, Harry,” Remus said. “What are you doing here?”

“We came to say hello and also to bring you chocolate but not to stay for long because Uncle Pads said you’re very busy today.”

“Thank you, Harry, that’s very sweet of you,” Remus said, taking the chocolate wand. With Harry in his arms, he walked over to the doorway where Sirius stood.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said in a quiet voice.

“It was all Harry’s idea,” Sirius said. “But I thought your classes were over for today, I’m sorry.”

“No, no it’s alright,” Remus said. “Technically my classes for the day are over. This is an optional study session for my seventh-years because they have their NEWTs soon.”

“Oh,” Sirius said. “So I memorized your schedule right?”

“Yes you did,” Remus laughed.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it now,” Sirius said. But before he left, Sirius pressed a kiss to Remus’ lips that lasted quite a bit longer than Remus would’ve liked his students to see. It was only when Harry, who had put both of his little hands over his eyes, loudly said, “Ewwww!” that they finally broke apart. There was a ripple of laughter from the class in between the whispers.

“Well that was professional,” Remus whispered, sarcastically to Sirius.

“I’m just making sure everybody knows you have the hottest husband in the world,” Sirius whispered back.

“I think you got the message across pretty well,” Remus said with a small grin.

“Come one, Harry,” Sirius said, no longer bothering to whisper.

“Bye, Uncle Moony,” Harry said.

“Bye, Harry. See you at home, Pads.”

“See ya, Rem. Good luck with your NEWTs, kids. Try not to fail. But if you do, just do what I did.”

“Which is?” called one girl.

“Marry the smartest person in the year,” Sirius said, winking at Remus.

---------

As soon as Sirius left the room, chatter broke out.

“Professor, who was that?”

“His husband, idiot.”

“I didn’t know you were married, sir.”

“Was the little boy your son?”

“Didn’t you hear him say ‘Uncle’?”

“Alright, alright,” Remus called loudly. “Let’s get back to studying.”

---------

“Harry, it’s bedtime,” Sirius called from the kitchen.

“Five more minutes?” Harry asked, hovering a little above the floor on his broomstick.

“You said that five minutes ago,” Sirius said. “Time’s up now.”

“But I want to wait for Uncle Moony,” Harry said.

“Uncle Moony is going to be home very late tonight, Harry, he has lots of work to do,” Sirius said.

“But how will he say good night?”

“He’ll say good night after you’re already asleep,” Sirius said.

“Promise you’ll tell him?”

“I promise.”

“You smomemly swear?” Harry asked. Sirius laughed.

“I solemnly swear,” Sirius said. “Where did you learn that word?”

“You and Uncle Moony say it all the time.”

“Do we?” Sirius laughed. “ Come on, Harry, it’s time for bed.”

“Okayyyy,” Harry said, hopping off the broom and putting it away.

“You can fly more tomorrow,” Sirius said, ruffling his hair. “Are your teeth brushed?”

“Yup,” Harry said. “You know Neville lost a tooth today?”

“Did he?” Sirius said. “That’s exciting.”

“Yeah!” Harry said. “Do you think I’ll lose my teeth soon, Uncle Pads?”

“It’s only a matter of time, Prongslet,” Sirius said, tucking him in.

“And then the tooth fairy will come!” Harry said happily.

“The– The what?” Sirius asked.

“The tooth fairy,” Harry said. “That’s whatever everybody in my class said.” So it’s a muggle thing, Sirius thought. He made a mental note to ask Remus what the fuck a tooth fairy is.

“Good night, Prongslet,” Sirius said, kissing Harry’s forehead. Harry hugged him in return.

“Good night, Uncle Padfoot.”

---------

When Remus finally finished marking the essays, he packed up his things and left his classroom. He can’t explain why he was so determined to get it done tonight but he was. He knew it would mean coming home late; he felt bad about it but Sirius had assured him that it was alright.

Remus left the castle and went out to the grounds when he heard the voices of a group of students near the outskirts of the forest. When they saw him walking towards them, they fell silent and exchanged nervous looks.

“Good evening,” Remus said to the third-years.

“Good evening, professor,” mumbled one of the boys whom Remus recognized to be Charlie Weasley.

“What are you doing out this late?” Remus asked them. A girl, Amelia Johnson, muttered a reply that Remus was sure he wouldn’t have been able to hear if it were for his heightened sense of hearing around the full moon.

“Looking for animals?” Remus said in surprise.

“Yeah,” Charlie said.

“You come here for Care of Magical Creatures, don’t you?” Remus asked.

“We wanted to see more,” said the third boy, Jack Brown. Remus looked at them for a moment and considered his options.

“Alright, look. I’m very tired and I have people waiting for me at home. I won’t deduct points from your houses but Professor McGonagall is on patrol tonight and I guarantee that she won’t be nearly as forgiving so I suggest that you all go back to your common rooms. As for these animals that you’re fascinated with, why don’t you three come to my classroom on Monday and we’ll see what we can do about getting you three into a higher-level class to satisfy your curiosity?”

“We already asked Professor Kettleburn,” Charlie said disappointedly.

“Well if you want to go into the forest and do some research yourself, I could take you,” Remus said.

“You know about magical creatures?” said Jack, looking up at him. Remus smiled.

“I know a thing or two,” he said. “And I’d say that I have good enough knowledge of the forest to help you navigate your way through it safely.”

“Okay,” Amelia said, excitedly.

“I do have a condition,” Remus said. “No more night-time excursions.”

“Alright,” Charlie said.

“I mean it,” Remus said. “Don’t expect me to let this slide again if I catch you a second time.”

“Of course, sir,” Jack said.

“So I’ll see you three on Monday?” Remus said.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, grinning widely. “Thanks, professor.”

“You’re welcome,” Remus said, smiling warmly at them. “Now back to your common rooms and no detours.” They hurried off in the direction of the castle and Remus, shaking his head and smiling, turned back to the castle’s exit.

Remus Apparated outside their doorstep so that the noise didn’t wake Harry and when he opened the door, he was even more glad that he did because Harry wasn’t the only one sleeping. Sirius had fallen asleep on the kitchen counter, his head on his arms, a half-empty glass of wine just out of reach of his right hand, music playing softly from the CD player. Remus waved his wand at it and it fell silent.

“Sirius,” he said gently, stroking his husband’s hair. Sirius opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head off of his hands.

“Hey Moony,” he said in a sleepy voice.

“Hi Pads,” Remus said. “Come to bed.”

“I still have to shower,” Sirius groaned. “Oh and Harry wanted you to give him a kiss goodnight. He made me ‘smomemly swear’.” Remus laughed

“Did he really say that?”

“Yep,” Sirius said. “He was asking for you all day.”

“Alright, I’ll go,” Remus said, turning to go to Harry’s room as Sirius stood up. “You should go shower though.” Sirius caught his hand before he could leave.

“Join me later?” he asked. Remus raised his eyebrows at him.

“Gladly, if you’re not too tired.”

“Too tired for you? Never,” Sirius smirked. Remus rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Go on then,” he said. “I’ll be there soon.”

---------

Sirius turned off the lights in the bedroom as Remus turned on the small lamp on his bedside table.

“So how was your day?” he asked, crawling under the covers.

“It was good,” Sirius said, joining him and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I slept till noon, picked Harry up— did you see that I went shopping for food and not clothes this time?”

“Oh bravo,” Remus said sarcastically, “should I give you a gold star?”

“Silly Moony,” Sirius said, “I am a star.” Remus shook his head and laughed.

“I should’ve seen that one coming,” he said.

“Yeah, you walked right into it,” Sirius grinned. “How was your day?”

“Oh you know,” Remus said, “marking essays, teaching students. My hot husband showed up and now the whole school is gossiping.”

“That was okay, right?” Sirius asked. “It’s not going to cause problems?”

“Nah, I doubt it,” Remus said. “People just think you’re very pretty and want to know what the hell you’re doing with me.”

“Does that make me a trophy wife?” Sirius joked. “‘Cause I’d make a good trophy wife.” Remus laughed.

“So did you give any detentions today?” Sirius teased.

“I did actually catch some third-years out of bed just before I got here,” Remus said.

“I hope you reported them, professor,” Sirius said, smirking.

“Nope,” Remus said. “I actually let it slide.”

“Remus!” Sirius said in mock surprise and disapproval. “You didn’t put these good-for–nothing rule-breakers in their place? I am shocked.”

“How could I report them? We used to do that all the time!” Remus said. “I never reported you, even when I was a prefect.”

“Yeah, but being a prefect and breaking rules is like if you were on the enemy side but the other side trusted you because they thought it was a good idea even though you’re still clearly on the enemy side. That’s the stupidity of the opposite side. But being a professor and breaking rules is like being a proper spy. You’re conspiring against your fellow professors by not reporting this, Rem. It’s espionage.”

“You are so full of bullshit, did you know that?”

“That’s why you love me,” Sirius grinned.

“No, no,” Remus said. “I love you in spite of that.” Sirius laughed. “And besides, those kids didn’t want to do anything bad. They’re just curious about the magical creatures in the forest.”

“That’s what they told you,” Sirius said.

“I believe them,” Remus said. Sirius raised his eyebrows skeptically. “If you met Charlie Weasley, you would too.”

“They sound like nerds,” Sirius said.

“Hey,” Remus said. “They’re kids, you can’t insult them.”

“I can’t believe you think that after hanging around with you for 15 years, dating you for 10 and being married to you for 6 I would use ‘nerd’ as an insult,” Sirius said. Remus laughed.

“Are you trying to tell me I’m a nerd?”

“Moony, you’re a teacher.” Remus laughed.

“Fair point.”

“What did you tell the kids though?” Sirius asked.

“I told them to go back to their common rooms and that I’d take them into the forest myself if they’re interested.”

“I bet they loved that,” Sirius said with a smile.

“You should’ve seen them,” Remus said. “They were ecstatic.”

“I knew you’d be a great teacher,” Sirius said. “I told you so.”

“You already said ‘I told you so’ when I got the job,” Remus said, “and after my first class. And many more times after that.”

“Yep,” Sirius said, “and don’t expect me to stop anytime soon.”

“Maybe you should come back to Hogwarts,” Remus said.

“What and teach? I don’t think so,” Sirius snorted.

“No, not as a teacher,” Remus said, “as a student. I have first-years who are more mature than you are.” Sirius laughed and pulled his husband in towards him. Remus winced and Sirius immediately backed away.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” he asked, a look of avid concern in his eyes.

“No, it’s not your fault,” Remus said, closing his eyes. “Full moon’s on Friday.” Sirius nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” he said.

“Right,” Remus said, smiling at him. “You and your tattoo.” Sirius pulled up his shirt to reveal the moon-shaped tattoo on the left side of his ribs. It was a magical tattoo that changed to show the phases of the moon and right now it was nearly full. When he’d shown it to Remus for the first time in their 6th year, Remus had melted.

“You alright, love?” Sirius asked.

“I’m just sore, that’s all.”

“Moony, why don’t we give that potion a try?” Sirius said. Remus sighed.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Pads,” Remus said. A few weeks ago, there had been an article in the Daily Prophet about the Wolfsbane Potion. It was the new invention of a potioneer that allowed a werewolf to keep their mind when they transform. The potion wouldn’t cure lycanthropy — Remus would still transform into a wolf every full moon — but it could certainly make things easier.

“Why not?” Sirius asked gently. “It’ll help you, won’t it? What could be bad about that?”

“What if it doesn’t work?” Remus asked nervously.

“If it doesn’t work, then we’ll get through the full moon like we do every time. I’ll be in my animagus form, Remus, nothing bad will happen. And we know that the potion is safe to drink because the health department in the Ministry of Magic approved it; they couldn’t have done that without making sure it’s safe. Worst case scenario it does nothing and things will continue as normal.”

“Pads,” Remus started slowly, “it’s really expensive.” Sirius hesitated for a moment.

“We could draw some of the money that my uncle left me,” he said.

“No, I won’t have you wasting your money on me like that,” Remus said, shaking his head.

“Rem, it’s not wasting, this—” Sirius sighed. “Look, why don’t we give it a try? Just once. And if it isn’t that great and you still feel like it’s a waste of money then we don’t have to do it again but there’s no harm in trying.” Remus still looked hesitant. “It’s not even my money, really,” Sirius added.

“Your uncle left it to you,” Remus said. “Of course, it’s yours.”

“I wouldn’t have spent it,” Sirius said. “I don’t want any money from anybody in that family. But nothing would piss them off more than me using Black family money to buy the Wolfsbane Potion for my half-blood, werewolf husband.” Sirius grinned and Remus shook his head and smiled at him.

“Oh alright,” Remus said. “But we’re only trying. And you have to be in your animagus form the entire time.” Sirius nodded.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, squeezing Remus’ hand and smiling. Remus smiled back before his mouth opened in a yawn. “Go to sleep, love, you’re exhausted.” Remus nodded, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Okay,” he said. “Good night, Padfoot.”

“‘Night, Moony,” Sirius said, turning out the bedside lamp before pressing his lips to Remus’ forehead. “Sweet dreams.”

Sirius closed his eyes as well, drifting off to the sound of Remus; breaths evening out as he sank deeper into sleep. And as he thought over the remains of that day, Sirius found himself feeling happy.

He missed Lily and James, it was true; he didn’t think he would ever stop missing them. But that didn’t have to mean that he couldn’t be happy. Here, today, with Remus and Harry, Sirius would let himself be happy. And he hoped that from somewhere, Lily and James could see them. He hoped they were happy too.

[wellmeaningshutin]

Short Story #36: Business.

Written: 2/2/2017 (#37 was NSFW, so it was skipped)

Confined in his cubicle, working never seemed like a valid option to Glen. Why spend the day filling out forms, looking over data, profiting margins, or whatever the hell he was supposed to do, when he was guaranteed to never be fired as long as he kept baking treats for his boss? Staring blankly at his computer, he had three windows open at the same time. One was a video detailing how to make home made caramel, he didn’t trust some store bought ingredients, another was a recipe for cheesecake, and the third one was a spreadsheet that somebody emailed him, but he mostly forgot that it was on the screen. He looked at the clock he hung on his wall, always a little lopsided, but whatever, apparently he had to wait a whole hour until it was his lunch break. Getting bored of all of cooking information, he cracked his knuckles, folded his arms over his desk, and rested his head down, closed his eyes, thinking about the show he watched last night (what was its name?) over and over until he drifted off.

“Hey.” He shot up, looked around wildly, did somebody catch him nodding off? He eventually spotted a plain girl with thick glasses, peeking her head over his cubicle. “Whats your take on the spreadsheet?” Rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands, he mumbled something about them being cost effective. For some reason this wasn’t enough for her to go away, and he was confused about what she wanted. Not knowing that he had large red marks on his face, from sleeping at his desk, he turned to his computer, opened up the file, nodded at the screen then nodded at her. She was more confused than he was, “So… is it fine? Should I email it to corporate or..?”

“Yeah. Yeah, definitely send it, great work like always.” He tried staring at her until she went away, and after thirty seconds of uncomfortable eye contact she finally dropped down and disappeared from his little world. Putting his hands behind his head, he reclined and smile, confident about another successful maneuver at work. Almost dozing off again, he realized that it might be break time, but his excitement was ruined since he still had twenty minutes left to go. Why’d that girl bother waking him up then? The phone rang so he picked it up and placed it back down onto the receiver. “You’re doing great today,” he said to himself.

After ten minutes of him taking notes on making carmel, he felt a presence behind him, spun around in his chair, and saw a stumpy, frog looking man in a mint green, short sleeved, button up shirt with a mud color tie and pants. The guy just stared for a while, so eventually he had to take the initiative. “What’s going on?” The words came out awkwardly, but in his head it sounded very calm and professional.

The odd man reached his sweaty hand into his pocket, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and took a little while to unfold it. Glen really wanted to turn away from and ignore this man, who was he anyways? Why was he being such a hassle, didn’t he have a job to do? When the paper was finally unfolded, and the frog man smoothed it against the outer wall of the cubicle, he presented it to Glen. It was another dumb spread sheet. “Did you approve this?”

Not sure at all, he confidently said, “Yes. Yes I did. It was very professional and met up to the standards that we hold here at-” Shit what was the name of the company? He couldn’t think of it, so instead he waved his hand out in front of him.

“What?” The man seemed taken aback, and-while sweating from his brow, causing little wisps of hair to hang down-he quickly reviewed the paper in front of him. “But… None of this makes any sense, the numbers are all wrong.” He held it back up and pointed to a section in the bottom right corner, “And-and I’m pretty sure this is a menu.” Glen scooted his chair forward, not bothering to get up, and stared directly at the paper, which was at his eye level, and it read: turkey club with extra guac, rose-butter ice cream served with caramel sauce, pastrami served over a bed of warm rice and salmon, a cup full of warm soup, chocolate pudding filled with gummy worms and topped with crumbled german chocolate cookies, and so on. It made him hungry, so he spun around and moved his chair over towards his computer, maximizing the window with the cheesecake recipe. The stumpy man lowered the paper, waited for Glen to respond, but after waiting some time he cleared his throat.

Hearing this, Glen turned around, surprised, and then remembered the man was there. “Oh, you need anything else?”

Flustered, the man threw his hands up into the air, “You need to fix this!” He didn’t know why he was even dealing with this problem in the first time, or why it was even so complicated.

Annoyed, Glen snatched the paper from the man, grabbed a pen from his desk, wrote a bunch of random numbers over the menu, and then handed it back to the man, who hurried to examine the changes. Before the guy could realize that it was still probably wrong, he stood up, exclaimed, “Well, its break time for me”, grabbed his coat, and walked towards the exit of the building, whistling, wondering where he was going to eat for lunch.

However, when he was close to the door, the girl from earlier stepped into his path and blocked him. Seeing her full self he could tell that she was plainer than he thought before, wearing some drab, grey attire of a cardigan, button up, and skirt that all seemed to blend into each other. “Herman's upset, I thought you said the sheet was okay!” She seemed pretty pissed at him, but who the hell was Herman? Was that the man who kept bugging him earlier? What the hell did she want from him?

Trying to calm down the situation, while still being as business like as possible, he shook her hand and said, “Don’t worry, the problems solved, the stars have aligned.” Then he briskly walked out of the office before she could have a chance to respond. Why was any of this his problem anyways? The sooner he could get some fresh air and something to eat, the better.

Two blocks down from the bland office complex was a burger joint that would make any burger you wanted, as long as you brought everything other than the patty or bun. It was probably going to go out of business soon, so Glen was trying to get as much out of it as he could before that dreadful day. When he walked in, belling ringing, he saw, like always, that there were no customers and the owner, a tall, Vietnamese man with a thick beard and no eyebrows, was watching the television he kept on the counter. When the owner saw Glen approach, he immediately stood up, beamed, and asked, “So what did you bring into day, Mr. Business?” It was the name Glen had given him as a joke, but after being called this multiple times he started to wonder if the man thought this was really his name, but he sort of liked being called that so he never bothered to check. He put a lunch box-one from his childhood that was faded blue, with a worn off picture that he couldn’t even remember what it originally was-on the counter and slid it over to the owner, who opened to it, laughed, and pulled out: a can of dog food (wet), various mint leaves, sliced salmon (in a smaller container, above an ice pack), and a small hunk of smoked Gouda. “You’re really trying to test me, huh?”

“Well, I figured I might as well see how great of a chef you are, before, well-” After saying that he just looked at his shoes, embarrassed that he even brought it up. After a month of visiting he never talked about the fact that the place might close, but now it felt so weird to say it.

“Before what?” The owner seemed genuinely curious, and studied Glen’s face. “Are you sick or something, what’s going on?”

Waving his hands in front of him to dispel any sense of worry, Glen tried to explain, “No no no, nothing with me… I just figured your business wouldn’t last long is all, well, since there’s never anyone here…” He felt shitty that he had to explain it, especially with the implication that he was a big successful business man, while this restaurant owner was a failure in that sense. The owner met this with a laugh.

“No, I wont go out of business for quite some time.” Collecting the ingredients in his hands, he moved towards the back and fired up the stove, smiling the whole time. “A lot of money comes through here, I don’t even need customers. All I need is for my benefactors to stay in business, my wife to cook the books, and I’ll still be here. Hell,” laughing as he tossed a patty on to the stove, it sizzled, “I’m probably going to die here. Now,” he held the bag of patties in one hand and looked Glen in the eyes, “Single or double?”

“Double, like always.” The owner nodded and tossed another onto the stove. “Uh.” Something wasn’t making sense, “Who are your benefactors? What do you mean by-”

A look the owner gave, one that said “You should know”, made Glen shut up. He took a seat at the counter and fidgeted with his hands. “Do you really not know?” When the owner asked this he didn’t even bother to look up, and was starting to put some dog food and the salmon onto the stove. “I thought you worked in that business complex down the way.”

“Yeah, so? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Huh. Well, let me finish this up and I’ll tell you a little story.”

The owner’s story:

Well, I heard some rumors about the building from the people who set me up with this restaurant, but I guess its probably not true. You can’t trust those guys very much, but they keep me in business and all I have to do is help cook the books and look the other way, so why should I bother to question them? Oh yeah, the story.

About two years ago, I was a struggling chef working in some chain restaurant, the one with the striped walls and the carnival food, but every day it crushed my soul. When I was young I always expected to be this big chef, where I could have a restaurant that proved my skills, with no menu, where every day customers would come in to challenge my abilities, and every day I would keep showing my skill. I wanted to become a legend. Now, working in a chain restaurant is no way to show your skill. All it really does is hurt your back and give you just enough to give by. It seemed like that was what my life was just going to become.

One day, we get this new kid, supposed to be a new line cook. His arms are covered in gang tattoos but that’s nothing to be surprised about, you would be surprised to know how many chefs in those places have criminal records. However, after working with him, showing him the ropes, chatting with him on smoke breaks, I start to learn that he’s not really interested in working at the place very long. He seemed like a good enough cook, so it surprised me when he said that. The weird thing was, he said he was a talent scout, and he liked the way I was able to serve up meals. He talks about how he’s got all of these big connections, and needs somebody to lead a small restaurant, and wants to see if I’m good enough. So, that night, he put me to the test and I tried really hard to impress him, because if he was telling the truth I was going to get out of that shit hole and make something of myself, even if it was on a small scale. If he was wrong, all I did was waste a little bit of my time and the guy got a good meal. No big deal.

I made him a Monte Christo, but I remember I substituted the meat inside for some fresh fish we had for the meal of the week, and I made up this sauce to go with, and the guy took one bite, went outside to make a phone call, and then he comes back inside and tells me we have to wait a little while. I didn’t know what was going on, so I just shot the shit with him for a little while, until there was a knock on the back door. It was very precise, it had to be a code. The guy opens the door and three men walk in, two big guys who are all tatted up like the line cook, and some older man in a suede suit who doesn’t say a word, walks right over to the sandwich, eats the whole thing, wipes his mouth with a handkerchief he kept in his pocket, and he told me I had the job.

Next thing I know, I’m out of that shitty restaurant, I tell the manager where to shove it, and the mob guys get me this restaurant, which at the time was just a vacant lot. They tell me that I get to design it, because it has to seem like I’m the owner, so its gotta look like its mine. This was great. They tell me they don’t give a shit about the menu and I get to make whatever, but I have to feed them whenever they decide to come by. This is also great, and because of this I keep some ingredients in the back since I don’t ever expect them to bring their own. They tell me that I gotta launder money through here, and I’ll get a small percentage for helping the money flow through, which is also great.

“Wait,” Glen was finally finished with his burger, every scrap, which he had been so determined to finish, and could finally speak, “So this place is a mob front.” The owner nodded, happily. “And you’re just sayin’ this out loud? That’s cool to do?”

“Well,” the owner scratched his beard, “You’re the only one in here, and you work at that shady office, so you probably deal with this stuff often. Plus, if you told, you would have to find somewhere else to eat lunch at.”

Glen nodded, these were very good points, but something bugged him. “Why do you keep talking about my work like that, what’s your problem with it?”

The owner narrowed his eyes and  gave a skeptical look, but when Glen proved to be genuinely curious and ignorant, he finally answered. “Well, from what I heard, that building is just a front, a black site for shady government research that goes on.”

Glen laughed and shook his head, “No its just a normal business, we.. Uh…” What did they do there? He started to get sweatier than the stumpy man who was bugging him earlier. What the hell did they do there? Without saying a word, he put a twenty on the counter (the meal only cost $10) and hurried out of the restaurant, marching towards his work. Waiting at a crosswalk, cold wind blowing in his face, he checked the time on his phone. Only five minutes left in his break. Looking at the buildings around him, he noticed none of the buildings stood out, they all seemed to blend together, and wondered how many of them were potential fronts.

When he walked back into the office everything seemed calmer than he had left it, and there were no signs of the people who were harassing him before. Maybe the problem, whatever it was, had blown away. The path to his cubicle was clear, but before he walked down he noticed his boss watching him from the glass wall of her office. She beckoned him in, he lowered his head and walked over. What did she want? Was this about the situation from earlier? Was she just hungry? Opening the door to her office, he noticed that she was starting to pull the cord that moved the thick, black curtains to block the view of the glass wall. He sat in the low, black vinyl chair across from her desk, she sat in hers.

A full minute passed before either of them said anything, the whole time she stared at him while he looked at his hands in his lap. Finally, she broke the silence, “Why do you look so guilty?”

Cautiously, he said, “I thought I might be in trouble for the situation earlier today.”

“With the spreadsheet?”

“Yeah, that one.”

She leaned back in her chair and studied his face. Her chair was tall, black leather, meant to appear more powerful than the guest chair, which only made her seem more intimidating than she naturally was. “You know I like that you cook for me, but that wont keep you safe.” He had to put in a lot of effort to keep his eyes locked onto hers, they seemed cold and dead. “You know how many people died because of your little slip up?”

“Wait, died?” He became too startled to begin to hide his worry. “How did that happen? Aren’t we just an accounting firm?”