The Modern Fae's Guide to Surviving Humanity (2 page)

Nimh was on the verge of giving up her quest when she opened the fire door at the back of the store—the one with the broken alarm the employees thought management didn't know about (management knew)—and found Dan sitting on a splintery old picnic table, his nose buried, as always, in a book. She stepped outside and eased the door silently shut behind her, taking a moment to lean up against the doorframe and just look at him.

She never got tired of looking at Dan. Oh, the rest of the girls in junior management assured her that he was quite average-looking, with his brown hair, muddy hazel eyes, and wire-framed glasses. “You can do better” was a common refrain in the evenings, as they sat around the plastic snack bar tables and slurped Mint-i-licious Milk-y-shakes™. Maybe she could. When you got right down to it, she didn't really care.

They remained that way for several minutes, Dan reading, Nimh watching Dan read. They both jumped when his watch began to beep. “Damn,” muttered Dan, reaching for the button that would make the beeping stop—only to jump a second time as he caught sight of Nimh standing up against the wall. “Jeez! Nimh, you scared me.”

“I couldn't find you, and then you looked so happy
that I didn't want to interrupt.” Nimh grimaced, looking faintly guilty. “I'm sorry. Was that wrong?”

“Only because it would have been nice to spend my lunch break with you, instead of with these two.” Dan held up his paperback in illustration. There was a lurid painting of half-naked elf maidens on the cover. “I thought you were on shift until two.”

“I got them to shift my shift.” Nimh pushed herself away from the wall, giving the book a dubious glance as she walked toward him. “I don't think I'm cut out for chainmail bikinis.”

“Don't worry. I like my women black-haired, petite, and fully clothed.” Dan slid off the picnic bench, tucking his book into the back pocket of his jeans as he moved to meet Nimh on the no-man's-land between the building and the decrepit outdoor lunch area. “No gossamer elf princesses will lure me from your arms.”

“I'm so relieved,” said Nimh, not quite able to stop herself from smiling. “Isn't it time for you to go back to work?”

“That was my ten-minute warning,” Dan said. “I was planning to track you down and try to convince you to slack off for five minutes before I had to go back to the grind.”

“Well, it's a good thing for you that you won't have to do that, since you would have failed. I don't ‘slack off.' ”

“That's one of the things I love about you. You somehow manage to be genuinely enthusiastic about working at Undermart. That may be a miracle.” Dan leaned forward to kiss her deeply. Nimh responded in kind, and both of them were smiling a little dizzily by the time he pulled away. “You always taste like cotton candy. Why is that?”

“Healthy living.” Nimh kissed him again before stepping backward, out of the circle of his arms. “Come on. I don't want to distract you and make you late to work.”

“Right. Wouldn't want to let Undermart down.”

Nimh looked at him with wide, earnest eyes, and said, “That's exactly what I was thinking.”

“I know.” Dan smiled a little. “Let's get back to work.”

Nimh was almost skipping as she led the way inside.

“Dude, what are you doing hanging around with that management chick?”

The words were aggressively delivered, but the nasal voice of the speaker robbed them of the bulk of their menace. Dan sighed, counting slowly to ten before he turned to face his coworker. “Hello, Kyle. How was your lunch? Mine was great. I brought an egg salad sandwich from home.”

“What are you talking about?” Kyle scowled at him, eyebrows scrunching suspiciously together. “You been letting that management chick make you drink those Milk-y-shake™ things they sell up front?”

“She has a name, you know.”

“Yeah. Her name's ‘the Man.' ” Kyle paused, a lecherous expression spreading across his face. “Oh, dude, are you sticking it to the Man? You can tell me. We're buddies.”

“No, we're not ‘buddies.' We only tolerate each other because we work in the same department, and every word you say moves me a little closer to requesting a transfer. I hang around with Nimh because she's my girlfriend, remember? We're dating? People who are dating tend to hang out together.”

“So you
are
sticking it to the Man,” said Kyle,
lecherous expression spreading. “Does she wear that cotton candy perfume in the bedroom?”

“I'll report you for harassment if you don't shut up right now,” said Dan pleasantly.

Kyle scowled. “You'd never be banging her if she weren't management. You know Undermart doesn't like fraternization between employees.”

“There's nothing in the handbook forbidding it.”

“There's nothing in the handbook requiring you to eat that artificial bird crap, either—”

“Chikin Chompers™,” murmured Dan, automatically.

“—but you better believe they'll come down on you if you don't do it. She's bad news, man. All them management chicks are. Corporate keeps them in the stores because they make the customers happy, but that doesn't mean they're here to fraternize.” Kyle picked up his price gun, brandishing it threateningly at Dan. “Watch yourself, man, or I'll be getting a new buddy, and you'll be getting a promotion.”

Dan blinked. “How is getting a promotion bad?”

“Ask one of the greeters that,” said Kyle darkly.

He was silent for the rest of the shift.

Nimh was sitting on the hood of Dan's car when he came trudging out of the Undermart, his heavy wool coat almost covering the neon edges of his mandatory work vest. She brightened at the sight of him, enjoying, as always, the way the parking lot safety lights glittered off his hair.

Dan smiled when he saw her, starting to walk a little faster. “Hey, baby. You off for the night?”

“I have morning inventory, but until then, I'm all yours.” Nimh slid off the car, opening her arms so that Dan could step right into them. “I missed you.”

“We were in the same store.”

No, we weren't, she thought, kissed his chin, and said, “I couldn't come see you while you were on your shift. It was lonely.”

“That's sweet.” Dan raised one hand, brushing her bangs away from her eyes. “Where did you want to go for dinner?”

“Someplace decadent and bad for us,” Nimh replied. “How do you feel about the salad bar?”

“Your definition of ‘decadent' needs some work, but sure,” said Dan. He fished his car keys out of his pocket, holding them up for her to see. “Your chariot awaits.”

“Oh, no,” said Nimh, looking faintly perplexed. “I like your car much better.”

Dan was still laughing when they pulled out of the parking lot. Nimh snuggled deeper in the passenger seat and just listened to the sound of it, wishing, as she always did, that the moment would never have to end. But it would. Moments like this, moments outside the Undermart, always did.

Later that night, after three plates of salad (one with
blue cheese dressing
, and wasn't that the naughtiest thing anyone had ever done?) and half a pitcher of virgin sangria, Nimh nestled under the synthetic cotton sheets ($9.99, housewares) and genuine vegetable lamb comforter on Dan's bed, letting herself breathe in the reassuring salty scent of him as she curled against his side.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“That I wish we didn't have to get up in seven hours and head back to our dead-end jobs where we have to work in the same building all day long without seeing each other.” Dan pushed himself up onto his elbow,
looking at her gravely. He had to squint to do it, but he didn't reach for his glasses. That had been the first sign that he was falling in love with her: when he stopped putting his glasses back on every time they rolled apart long enough to breathe. “Doesn't it ever bother you? The idea that maybe this is going to be our lives? Get up, spend the whole day working at the Undermart, go shopping at the Undermart, go home, go sleep, and wait to die?”

Nimh blinked at him. “No. That doesn't bother me. Why would it?”

Dan hesitated. “Sometimes I don't understand you, you know.”

“I know.” Nimh reached up one hand, cupping his cheek. “I'm doing the best I can. I just didn't grow up around here, remember?”

“I remember. I just never thought of Canada as being another planet before I met you.” Dan sighed. “Honestly, Nimh, are you going to be happy? If this is all there is? Don't you want to run away from here? Because I'd do it, you know, if you were willing to go with me. I'd run away, and I'd never look back.”

“It's more complicated than that.”

“I know. But I wish—”

Nimh slid her hand around to press a finger against his lips, trapping the wish before it could be fully birthed into the world. “Never wish,” she said, with quick urgency. “Wishing is what lets danger into the world.”

Dan blinked at her. Then he sighed, heavily, and dropped back to the bed, rolling onto his back as he stared up at the ceiling. “Kyle was asking today about what I was doing with you—or what you were doing with me, I guess.”

“What did you tell him?” asked Nimh.

There was a sudden edge to her voice that made him lift his head and frown, seeing the alarm on her slightly blurry features. “That you were my girlfriend. Why?”

“I just … I just wondered, that's all. Can we sleep? Please? I'm tired, and it will be morning soon.”

“Sure, sweetie.” Dan kissed her forehead before nestling himself a little deeper. “Sleep well.”

“Yes,” Nimh said. “You, also.”

Dan turned off the light. His breathing quickly steadied into the long, slow rise and fall of a sleeping man. Nimh remained awake, staring up at the ceiling and beginning to compose the addendum she would have to make to her upcoming report to management. There was no point in trying to omit what she had learned. Management would already know, and would be waiting to learn what she was willing to do to massage the data.

Management always knew.

“Has anybody seen Kyle?” asked Dan, picking up a refill for his price gun. “I've been taking care of the toy section by myself all morning, and I'm about ready to punch his stupid face in if he comes sauntering in here without a damn good excuse for himself.”

The clerks he'd been talking to stiffened, exchanging a wary glance before the shorter one—he thought her name was Peggy—said, slowly, “You mean he didn't tell you?”

Dan frowned. “Didn't tell me what? Oh, jeez, don't tell me he finally decided to quit. Please. I have plans this weekend.”

“That he was up for a promotion,” said the other clerk. He was actually wearing his name tag, identifying
him as one of the store's seven or so men named Arthur. He offered Dan a reassuring smile. “I'm sure he's going to be much happier and more fulfilled with his work now that he's doing something truly suited to his skills.”

“A promotion?” Slow, terrifying certainty was uncoiling itself in Dan's gut. He did his best to keep it from showing on his face as he snapped the refill roll into his price gun. “Wow. Well, I hope they'll be hiring for his position soon. I can't manage toys by myself forever.”

“I'm sure management is on top of things,” said Arthur.

“Yeah, I'm sure you're right,” agreed Dan, with a fairly sickly looking smile. He turned and left the stockroom, walking quickly back onto the floor. One of the customers in the toy section had managed to pull over an entire display of toy cars, and without Kyle to help, it took the better part of an hour for Dan to get everything picked up and put back where it belonged.

By the time the display was restored to its original condition, it was time for Dan's first break of the day. He slipped back into the stockroom long enough to clock out, then made his way slowly toward the front of the store, where the greeters would be waiting to welcome new customers to the Undermart.

Undermart wasn't the only big-box store to employ their own small army of smiling faces, but they liked to say that they went The Extra Smile™, with greeters who were somewhere between friendly faces and personal shoppers. They would even follow customers through the store if asked, carrying their bags and offering tips about good bargains. Consequentially, the store employed twice as many greeters as any of their competitors, just to keep up with the demand.

The yellow and green vests of the greeters made them stand out amongst the shoppers like macaws in a chicken coop. Dan scanned them quickly, and was just starting to relax when he spotted a head covered in familiar blond spikes. The greeter was too far away for him to be certain, but he still knew. The moment that he saw the way the greeter was standing, the height of him, Dan knew.

Holding tightly to his price gun, like it would somehow defend him from whatever was ahead, Dan walked over to the door and waited until Kyle's customer turned to leave the store. She was smiling broadly, like a little girl who'd just been promised she'd be getting that pony for her birthday after all. Women never smiled after they finished talking to Kyle. Sometimes they threatened to talk to his manager, but they never smiled.

“Kyle?”

“Oh, hello.” Kyle turned, a beatific smile lighting his acne-scarred features and turning them into something almost beautiful. “Welcome to Undermart. Can I help you find some wonderful bargains for your home and family?”

“Kyle, it's me, Dan. Your partner, remember?” Dan held up the price gun, waving it between them. “Why didn't you tell me you were applying for a promotion? I thought you hated the greeters!”

“Undermart greeters are here to help you make the most of your shopping experience. We're like Santa's elves, now with Real Super-Saving Action™!” Kyle kept smiling, but there was something strained in his eyes, like part of him wanted nothing more than to start screaming instead. “What are you looking for today?”