Summary: Sanderson starts working at Pixies Inc. and meets the current Vice President.
I was gonna make this longer but decided against it. I'll introduce some side characters in the next chapter. Not much is happening right now, but there's some character interaction and a little pixie history. I guess that's fun, too.
Another thing, until HP actually becomes the HP, he will be referred to as Ross. That's the name I gave him. I don't know what his canon name is, assuming he has one.
Bonus points to anyone who can catch the Markiplier reference!
Chapter One: First Impressions
"I was an innocent being...then my best friend came along."
"You'll never get the job."
Sanderson looked up from the application he'd been filling out on the floor and glanced up at his twelve-year-old sister. "I beg your pardon?"
Taylor plopped down in front of him, the floorboards creaking loudly beneath her. Once again, Sanderson wondered how much longer this building would last. "I said, 'You'll never get the job.'"
Sanderson sat his pen on top of the application and sat up. Goddess, he could have sworn this place in better shape when he was a kid. Maybe, if he got the job, he could afford to get everyone somewhere better to live. Particularly, somewhere that wasn't on the verge of collapsing. "And, what makes you say that?"
Taylor put a finger to her chin in mock-thought. "Well…" She ticked off the reasons on her fingers. "You have no references, no prior experience, no high school diploma-"
"-you didn't go to college-"
"I went online."
"Yes, paid for with a credit card you 'borrowed' that mysteriously vanished and on a computer that you 'borrowed' from someone who could actually afford one." She smirked. "Remember when that guy caught you and called the police? I still can't believe you got out of there in time."
Sanderson frowned deeply. "Sis, what's your point?"
"My point is that all you'll wind up doing is humiliating yourself. Pixies Inc.? Really, Sanderson? You may have magic, but they'll figure out where you come from. Best case scenario: they toss your application in the trash and never speak of it again."
"Sis, when you're older, you'll realize that sometimes you just have to go for it."
Taylor shrugged and stood up. "I go for things. Just not things that end in embarrassment on my part." She walked to the door, waving dismissively over her shoulder. "Whatever, Sandy." She put her hand on the doorknob and looked at him from over her sunglasses, which seemed difficult, considering that he was sitting and she was standing. "You do you and I'll do me and we won't do each other...probably. Hm. That was a good poem." She turned the knob, and it came out in her hand. She stared at for a moment, then scowled and tossed it aside. She opened the door, which barely managed to stay on its hinges. "Dear Goddess, get me outta this crap hole," she muttered, leaving her brother to his application.
Sanderson huffed and slunk back onto his stomach, returning to the matter at hand. Maybe he wouldn't get the job. Maybe he would. He'd never know, if he didn't try. If nothing else, he could always be a janitor or something. Anything to make some money and find a home that wasn't falling apart at the seams.
"Why did you hire him?"
Penn Grey didn't break her stride, as she and her son/vice president made their way down the hall, other pixies acknowledging them with brief nods before returning to whatever they were doing. "I beg your pardon?"
"Sanderson Davis. Why did you hire him?"
"Why do you ask?"
Well, for one thing, they were about to meet the guy, and Ross couldn't wrap his head around why Sanderson had gotten the job. And, oh yeah, Ross's mother was making him show the new guy around. "Well, he has no references, no prior experience, no high school diploma-"
"He was homeschooled," Penn corrected as they boarded the elevator.
"Oh. Well, even so, he has no college degree."
"He went online. Perhaps I should have shown you his application." The doors closed, and they descended. "Ross, do you trust me?"
"Then, you'll trust my judgement. You know, this guy is actually pretty close to you in age."
"Oh?" Ross didn't actually care, but a response seemed necessary.
His mother shrugged, giving him a side-glance. "Well, he's twenty-two. A couple thousand years younger than you but close enough. At least, you're no longer the youngest guy working here."
Again, Ross didn't care. But, as the elevator doors opened and they flew out of them, a thought popped into his head and made him want to slap his mother/boss. "Sanderson is twenty-two years old."
"Yes," is what Penn said, but her tone said, 'What's your point?'
"He is barely old enough to drink."
"Yes." Same tone.
Ross pinched the bridge of his nose, as they made their way through the rows of cubicles and down to the lobby. "Mother, I have nothing but respect for you. I want to make that clear. But, twenty-two? No work experience? And, he's working at Pixies Incorporated?"
"Just in the complaints department. If he does a bad job, we can always fire him."
"Or, report him, seeing as we have no proof that he isn't a corporate spy. Or, an axe murderer," he muttered. Penn's mouth quirked up ever so slightly in amusement. "Well. We don't."
"Give him a chance, Ross."
Ross didn't have the chance to respond, because they'd reached the lobby. There were only two other pixies there. One was the secretary, and the other was sitting in the waiting area, nervously kicking his legs. At the sight of him, Ross wanted to bang his own head against the wall. Merciful Goddess, his suit wasn't even ironed! And, was that a stain on the pant-leg? Who came to work looking like they'd dug their clothes out of the trash? And, on the first day, no less? There was also a huge cowlick jutting out of his hairline. How hard would it have been to put some gel on that thing or something? Sanderson stood up from his seat, and Ross finally noticed just how thin the guy was. Seriously. Did this man even eat? Not to mention, he was about a head shorter than Ross, making him seem even tinier. Sure, Ross was tall by pixie standards, but even so...
But, Ross kept his mouth shut. His mother was constantly reminding him not to judge a report by its cover page, but he just couldn't help it sometimes.
Sanderson walked up to them. At least his deadpanned greeting was professional. "Hello again, HP. And, you must be Ross."
Ross simply nodded, but his mother shook the new guy's hand. "Pleasure to see you again, Sanderson. My son will show you to your office. I trust you've already filled out the appropriate paperwork."
"Good. I'd love to show you around myself, but I have some paperwork of my own to deal with." Ross raised an eyebrow at his mother. "Ross, if you will."
Ross chose not to acknowledge her lie. "Yes, HP."
She nodded and pinged elsewhere, leaving them alone with Lovell, the secretary who was pretending to not have been listening to a word they'd been saying.
"You call your own mother HP?" Sanderson asked.
Ross got that a lot. He shrugged. "Only in public. Now, I guess I have to show you around. Come with me."
Sanderson followed him through the building. Well, the first floor anyway. That was really all the new guy needed to see. It wasn't like he was getting a promotion anytime soon.
Don't judge a report by its cover page, Ross.
Ross forced his mother's words to the back of his mind. He knew she was right. Penn Grey was the kind of person who always seemed to be right about everything. Sometimes it was useful, but at times like this, it was kind of annoying.
Whatever. It wasn't like there was a whole lot to see, anyway. Just some gray walls, a couple of cubicles. Most of the actually important stuff happened on the upper floors. The only splashes of color were the portraits of past Head Pixies that hung in the main hallway. Ross couldn't help noticing how intrigued Sanderson was by the portraits, so he clarified, "Head Pixies past."
Sanderson blinked behind his sunglasses. "I'm sorry?"
Ross stopped walking and flicked his wrist in a circle. "These pictures. They're of past Head Pixies."
"Ah." Sanderson continued studying them. "All relatives of yours then?"
Sanderson stopped looking at the portraits and turned a curious gaze on him. "I heard all of you were related."
"Then, you heard wrong." Ross couldn't count the number of times his mother had been accused of nepotism. "The Goddess blesses one pixie. Not an entire bloodline. From what I've been told, two Head Pixies being related is rarer than female pixies being born." Sanderson let out a low whistle. "Yep. Now, enough about-"
"Is it true that-" Sanderson frowned nervously. "Oh, I interrupted you. Sorry, sir."
Ross fought down his irritation. "It's fine. You had another question. May as well get the Q and A over with while we're standing here."
Sanderson either didn't catch his impatient tone or simply ignored it. "It-It's just that I've heard stories about Head Pixie...Mallory Dahmer? I think that was her name."
Ah, yes. The Head Pixie before Ross's mother. He'd heard stories as well. He shrugged. "You and I have probably heard the same stories. My mother doesn't really talk about her."
"Did your mother really k- Overthrow her?"
He didn't say kill. Smart man. "Yes. But, that's all I know for certain about Mallory. Other than her essentially being a tyrant or something. Are we done here? Or, do you still feel like asking questions you should know the answers to?"
Was that a little grin on the new guy's face? It was gone as fast as it appeared. Maybe Ross had imagined it. "I'm good."
"Okay. Let's get you to your new office, then."
Things should start getting interesting, once we meet the side characters. We'll also be hearing more about Sanderson's and Taylor's living arrangements soon enough. A little something for you to look forward to. Also, I finally made myself a Tumblr profile, so if you have questions, feel free to ask. Review!