Copyright 2002 by Jen Wardell

Rating: PG

Author's note: And so the muse finally strikes again, twisting another beloved fairytale in its path. Consider this fair warning. :)

Fairy Godmothers, Inc.
by Gatekeeper

Chapter 1: Foreshadowing? What Foreshadowing? (Kate)

Sometimes, being a fairy godmother wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"Let me get this straight." Only years of practice helped me keep my voice even. "You want your granddaughter to marry a frog?"

The older woman who sat across from me, previously introduced as the dowager Queen Beatrice of somewhere, seemed quite pleased with herself. "Not just any frog, my dear Katie, but a frog prince. Only the highest of social connections for my little muffin." Suddenly wondering if she was being just the tiniest bit unfair, she pursed her lips. "Well, if it had to I suppose we could do with a frog lord or a frog duke, but anything less than that would break my poor son's heart. He has such hopes for the girl ...."

A fake smile firmly in place - It's Kate, Katie sounds like a six-year-old - I slipped and allowed myself one of my ration of sarcastic comments for the day (I was trying to cut back). "I'm sorry, but I'm pretty sure that amphibians started using a democratic system a few years ago. How would a frog governor work for you?"

She just stared at me, her face completely blank with well-meaning incomprehension, and I could almost see the comment whizzing gracefully right over her head. I sighed - another one wasted. "I don't understand what you mean. What does democracy have to do with anything, and why would any self-respecting witch want to turn a mere governor into a frog?"

I felt my wings droop a little. Not surprising, really, but hard on a person's basic faith in the universe. "Never mind, your majesty. Of course you want me to find a cursed noble of some kind to marry your granddaughter. It's one of the most popular options Fairy Godmothers, Inc., offers on our standard wish-fulfillment package. What I meant is that the previous cases that our office has dealt with normally featured the cursed noble as the client, or at least someone who had one on hand in case of an emergency. You, however, do not."

I was almost willing to end it there and hope that good sense would prevail, but the blank look she shot me suggested that if I did she was just going to make me explain it to her all over again. "Do you at least have a specific cursed individual in mind?" I prompted, afraid even as I did that it wouldn't do me any good.

"Of course I don't." The queen pulled back slightly, actually having the gall to seem offended. "That's what I'm paying you for, isn't it? If I had a specific prince in mind, I certainly wouldn't be needing your assistance."

Lovely. Well, if this was what I was had to work with ....

Shooting a bit of magic at the clock in the hopes of making it go faster, I turned to my computer and accessed the International Enchanted Nobility Database (patent pending). "Okay then, let's start from the top ...."

Two, maybe twelve hours later, we still hadn't gotten to what she considered to be the bottom.

"This is Eduardo de Esteban San Castillo the third, only heir to the Duke of Castillo. He enjoys fencing, riding, long walks on the beach and generally being dashing. He is currently enjoying life as a pig, due to undisclosed activities involving the youngest niece of a mystical old woman." I shook my head. "Really, you think they'd learn to stay away from those kinds of girls by now."

Beatrice wrinkled her nose in distaste. "As long as they stay away from my granddaughter. I say I want a frog, and you show me a pig? I believe I was perfectly clear in what I was looking for, young woman."

I took a deep breath. They'd stopped being calming 20 minutes ago, but I couldn't think of anything else to do. I'd been assigned this case, and only a miracle or supervisor intervention could get me out if it. Believe me, neither was going to happen. "I would be more than happy to show you another frog, Beatrice, but I'm afraid that Prince Tihold was our last one. He was the one whose eyeballs you thought were too bulbous."

Acknowledging my point but completely ignoring the idea that she might have been wrong in any way, Beatrice simply chose something else to be unsatisfied with. "Still, I absolutely refuse to accept a cursed pig as my grandson. The very idea would be utterly undignified. And those foreigners ... well, let's just say that I certainly wouldn't want one taking over my kingdom."

Deflated, I called up the next file. "Any chance you'd consider a cursed duck to be less subversive?"

I had the sneaking suspicion that she was just about to tell me no when the angel of mercy arrived in the last form I ever would have expected - the office intern, Ned.

"Kate!" Just as Beatrice had been about to open her mouth, 5' 5" of very nervous young fairy came barreling through the doorway of my cubicle, his wings knocking books and other random items down as he went. I decided against pointing them out - it would just frazzle the poor boy and end up making the damage even worse. "The boss wants to see you!"

I tensed. I knew there was a reason people always said to be careful what you wished for .... "Did she say why?"

"A new assignment." Ned threw a quick glance at the suddenly affronted Beatrice, clearly hoping he wasn't going to have to explain anything to her. I didn't blame him. "Bubbles says it's a hot one - the client's paying us double to take care of it, asap."

There's a basic fact of life: unless you happened to be a fantastically skilled hotshot or suicidal - of which I was neither - there's never a happy reason for a boss to single you out. "Any idea why she felt I would be the best one to take care of this?"

"Um, well ...." His eyes hopped around the room like a psychotic kangaroo, willing to settle anywhere but on me. "I'm not really sure - I'm just an intern ...."

"Ned ...."

Finally, he relented, his expression begging me not to include this in his evaluation. "Really, Kate, I don't know! I tried to stay and listen this time, but then she started smiling and doing that weird thing with her eyes .... I just couldn't take it anymore!"

I groaned, my head falling forward into my hands. Beatrice wisely chose not to comment.

***

"Katie, Katie, Katie." Bubbles peered downward through her small wire-rimmed glasses at the files spread out before her. "Did you really have the future count and countess of DuBoir meet by dumping a large bowl of cream custard on the young woman's head?"

"Well, neither of them were really dancing, but when I dumped the dessert on her the count rushed right over and offered to help her get cleaned up. I think they'd been eyeing each other all night, but just couldn't figure out a way to break the ice ...." My voice trailed off as I caught the expression on her face. Really, it was for the best - I talked too fast when I was nervous, and I was clearly going to need my breath for later. Besides, the longer I talked, the more of a chance there was that I would try and apologize, no matter how much I didn't want to.

When I had finally returned to what she considered a state of appropriate silence, she nodded. "There, that's better. Really, though, I shouldn't be surprised. This habit you have of talking out of turn is merely a symptom of the larger problem, the same problem which is also clear in these files spread across my desk - you simply do not seem to understand what it takes to be a proper fairy godmother." She slowly looked me up and down, as if my frizzy hair, youth and gawky 5'11'' frame was enough to make her point for her.

What was a girl supposed to say to that, especially when she already knew it? Anything that would change the topic, that's what. "Um, I'm pretty sure Ned said something about a new assignment ...."

She cut me off with one of her patented "Bubbles Death Glares," little wands of doom poking out from a wash of sugary sweetness. "That's what I've been talking about, Kate, if you could overcome that chatterbox mouth enough to listen. From these reports, it's clear you have no idea of how to follow the rules. This countess, for example - the proper procedure you should have followed is obvious. Beautiful dress, magical transportation, stunning entrance .... The two of them should have been seeing stars within 15 minutes, no problem. And that's only the usual standard." Her eyes got all misty, and she batted her lashes like an extremely large school girl. "Why, in my day I was known to do it in five ...."

Memory lane alert: must send brain anywhere else in order to avoid being bored to death. Retrieve when she starts running out of breath.

After the appropriate cue, I retrieved my brain just in time to hear her give a deeply dramatic sigh and press a hand to her chest. "As I was saying, you poor dear girl, I can't stand it when one of my little lambs gets lost in the way you seem so insistent on doing. I want to help you, I've tried to help you, but you just won't let me. If your cases keep ending up the same way they have been," (a.k.a. working out just fine) "then I simply don't know what I'm going to be able to do with you. So, out of the goodness of my heart, I'm giving you one last chance."

"One last chance?" I wasn't sure if I was panicking or secretly relieved. My job was equally adept at inspiring both emotions.

"One last chance." Her sparkling pink bosom heaved a little as she handed me the folder. "Seems that one of the company executives was doing a little 'wing flapping' on the side a few years ago, though we're not supposed to discuss who." She made an overly dramatic set of quote marks with her hands, then looked at me with what was clearly supposed to be a knowing expression. No, I can't explain it either. "Now he wants us to see that the petite blond results of his little adventure are well taken care of, which means of course the full fairy godmother package - handsome prince, pretty clothes, various magical items, the works."

I nodded my head almost randomly as I flipped through the file. Yes, there she was - petite and blond just like Bubbles had said, with that kind of prettiness that suggests a major lack of intelligence. At least, that's what it suggests to average-looking people like me. "Do you have a prince lined up, or are we going to go with a lesser noble?" I hadn't wanted to tell Beatrice, but there was a prince shortage going on these days. Everyone was trying to cut back.

Bubbles shook her head, making her wig full of white-blond curls slip a little. I decided not to tell her about it. "Don't even talk like that - of course we're giving her a prince. Surprisingly enough, he's even going to inherit." She looked smug as she said this, as if it had been her idea. "Rupert Charming, oldest of two sons belonging to the king and queen of the absolutely adorable little kingdom of Somewhere. Of course, that's all either of them are going to be for awhile because the old man's fit as a horse, but I suppose you can't have everything."

Oddly enough, I never wondered why they stopped letting Bubbles doing field work. Mouth quirking upward a little at the thought, I continued scanning the file. That one must the prince -- a jawline like that was practically a requirement for the job. "Oh, of course not. Unless you want me to try to kill the queen and get the girl to marry the grieving widower ...."

I cut off when I saw her eyes brighten. Dang it, I really needed to learn to stop myself. "... Which we definitely shouldn't do. It would add far too dark a note to what's supposed to be a happy and romantic event, wouldn't you say?" I gave her my most bright and encouraging expression, hoping she would buy it.

"Oh, you're probably ... no, we shouldn't do it. It would be absolutely terrible for our image if someone caught wind of what we'd done. That's the sort of thing wizards indulge in, not fairy godmothers ...." Realizing that she still hadn't told me enough to make me leave the room yet, she shook her head and got back on topic. "Besides, this case has enough problems as it is ...."

I kept my voice casual, though the temptation to go find Beatrice again was getting stronger by the minute. "Oh, really?"

"Oh, yes." She perked up, glad for the chance to gossip and make my life miserable at the same time. "See, we're doing the management a little 'favor.'" There went the quote marks again. "So that means that this entire case is somewhat ... off the record, if you understand what I'm saying. Normal contract rules do not apply, the management disavows any knowledge, etcetera etcetera." She smiled. "But I'm certain it's going to be loads of fun anyway!"

Translation: I'm really, really hoping this will end up getting you fired, and when it does I'm going to have a party.

I just nodded, perversely glad that I knew what was actually going on. Now, if only being forewarned actually meant being forearmed .... "So I suspect you'll want me to get started as soon as possible, right? Don't want to keep the client waiting and all that."

"Oh right away, Kate, right away. Pat should have your transport pass at the front desk by now, the proper destination already plugged in - pick it up as soon as you leave the office, give yourself a few moments to study the file and recharge your wand, and you should be able to get started by closing time today." She sniffled theatrically. "Rushing off to help that poor dear girl ...."

After a good internal eye roll and a silent thank you at the exit line, I stood up and was just about to make my escape when she waved her hand at me. "Oh, you almost forgot to remind me - a bit of a warning about the poor girl's name. The mother - not around by this point, thank heavens, or we couldn't justify giving her a fairy godmother at all - saddled the poor girl with Cinderella or something else awful like that, which just won't do. I know it's not part of the standard package, but if you could work a name change in somehow that would be just marvelous." She sniffled again, having decided she liked the effect. "So provincial ...."

Ah, the little ironies of life, especially the ones you can't comment on unless you want to get fired. Time for escape attempt number two ....

"Oh, and Kate ..."

Close. So close.

"Don't forget the happily ever after!"

Relieved, I slipped out the door. That was the one part I usually managed just fine.