fandomhigh | Advanced Bird Haberdashery, Wednesday, period 2

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bird haberdashery

Advanced Bird Haberdashery, Wednesday, period 2

Duke, god love him, had honestly thought he might be able to come in and have the class do something other than bird hats, today. Maybe some bird themed yoga poses. Or read a story about a bird! He really ought to have known better.

The whole classroom was full of turkeys. Very unhappy, very aggressive turkeys.

After several moments of fending one of the largest turkeys off with a chair while — again — madly googling on his phone, Duke added a new rule to the class list:

Class rules:
1. Do not eat the birds
2. Do not FEED the birds

"Yeah, so, apparently feeding them can make them more aggressive," Duke said, trying for casual even as he was slowly chased around the front of the room by a 30 pound, belligerent bird. "So if you brought sausages to try to win these guys over . . . sorry?"

The turkey gobbled angrily at him and went after his shoes.

"So we're doing turkeys today!" Duke dropped the chair and scrambled up onto his desk. "They are large and aggressive." He glared at the turkeys. "And taste really good with cranberry sauce!"

The turkeys were undaunted.

"Also, the internet is really into the fact that apparently one of this country's founding fathers thought these guys should be our national bird." One of the turkeys at the back of the room took flight and swooped at him. "And you know what? I'm gonna give it to him. Good ol' Benny Franklin had something going there." He waved at the swooping bird and scowled. "For fucksake, stop it!"

The turkeys, startled by his volume, backed off and/or landed and started scratching at the tile and pecking around, looking for snacks. Duke sat down — still on top of his desk — and looked around for the hat instructions du jour.

"And we're apparently making them . . ." He picked up the paper and looked entirely put upon. "Fezes." He eyed the turkeys. "So . . . good luck with that."

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"Stop worrying it's punishment for being a bad teacher," Octavia told him with another little tug on his hand. "You're not."

"Then what's it a punishment for?" Duke asked. He was mostly kidding.

That was the trouble with believing in karma, you had a tendency to read way too much into things that happened to you.

"Nothing." Octavia shrugged. "Sometimes things just happen to you." A beat. "Especially here."

She'd been tossed around the multiverse too much to believe much of anything had a reason. Still, she gave his hand a squeeze.

"Both punishments, and rewards."

“Ah, so I have to deal with large, aggressive birds for no reason.” A beat. “Yeah, that’s not reassuring.” He chuckled and shook his head. “So. Here are the offices. I think . . . that was the one that had a rug trap.”

It was Magnus’. Naturally.

"So Magnus's," Octavia replied. No, she wasn't that good at guessing, she remembered that from when the whole heist thing had been happening. "I don't think he uses his much, either."

"Not sure anyone really does," Duke said. "Unless there's a heist, I guess. I wonder if Diaz will do another one of those. She is still calling her class 'bad ass'. . . ."

"I'm still not sure I get what that has to do with hiding crap in offices."

She also hadn't given it much thought, either.

"I think it was just an easy place to use that the kids aren't technically barred from, but don't really go into that often." Duke shrugged. "Or Diaz is just lazy. I'd buy that, too."

He and Rosa really did not get along, no.

Octavia had picked up on that, yes. "I don't think lazy is her style," she drawled, but left it at that. Instead, she nodded down the hall. "Which one's yours?"

"Number 11." Duke found it and opened the door. It was empty of any sign that it might be his, save for a note on the desk, which read:

Students of badass bitchery:
It has come to my attention that your teacher has assigned you to steal a specific item from the teachers' offices. Anyone who steals it and brings it to me instead will receive a cash prize, or item of equivalent personal value.
Cheers,
Duke Crocker, Professor of Piracy

"Yeah," Duke said, picking up the note with a smile. "I still have that hatchet, too."

He was rather proud of how that whole thing had shaken out.

Octavia leaned in to read the note, then looked up at him with a quietly amused huff and one eyebrow slightly raised.

"Wasn't this months ago?" she rasped. "Wow, you really don't come in here, ever."

"Halloween, yeah." Duke shrugged. "I guess I could start using it. . . . What do people do with offices if they're not, like, doing payroll or whatever?"

He used his office at Luke's. Mostly to hide from his kitchen staff.

Snort. "You definitely shouldn't be asking me that," Octavia replied. "TV tells me they're mostly for intense conversations, or affair-related makeouts, or both."

No one ever actually did their jobs on TV, if you asked her.

She wasn't wrong.

"Well. We can totally do one of those things, anyway," Duke said with a smile. "Though I guess it's not really 'affair-related'."

Octavia raised both her eyebrows, this time.

"You don't want to have an intense conversation?"

Color her shocked!

"Not when I could be making out instead," Duke said easily.

They did have their fair share of intense conversations, too. But make-outs were typically much more fun.

He wasn't wrong. Still, Octavia snorted, quietly. "You're predictable."

She didn't mind it at all.

"Ouch." Duke pressed his hand to his chest, giving her a mock offended look. "I prefer to think of myself as . . . motivated to enjoy the finer things in life."

Octavia, ever the master of mixed messages (including playful ones like this), rolled her eyes as she stepped closer to put her hand over his on his chest.

"That's also predictable, jaka."

"You're mean," Duke said, smiling and leaning in to grab a quick kiss. ". . . Predictably so."

Octavia considered making him wait for his quick kiss, but, no. She met him halfway for it.

She hadn't been as off the grid this week, but she'd still managed to miss him.

"Probably, but you like it that way," she retorted. "Would you like me as much if I was nice?"

"I'd have no idea what to do with you if you were nice," Duke said. It was true. Just look at how he reacted when she told him she loved him. "I'd probably think you were up to something."

"I wouldn't know how to be nice, anyway."

That was... half true? Thanks, poor socializing!

"Guess that makes you lucky."

Duke shifted to put his arms around her waist, voice turning serious. "You definitely make me lucky."

Oh.

The smirk fell out of Octavia's expression as she shifted to loop her arms over his shoulders in turn, leaning further in.

"I could say the same thing."

She kind of already kept saying it.

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