Chapter Text
Nora had never really understood the buildup around Cold Stone Creamery. So the poor servers had to sing a song for every tip. That sounded horrible, honestly, for both parties involved. She knew exactly how shitty patrons could be– and that's when the baristas didn't promise anything for tipping–, and she had heard enough singing at Beanies from a certain someone belting in the back room during every single break. But Zoey had unsurprisingly been pestering her about it since she had heard that Nora was going to be in Rochester Hills for a weekend while her niece was sleeping over at her girlfriend's, so when she saw the place just a few buildings down the road, she gave in and stopped by. She decided that she would give a tip, because it'd be rude not to, but she would tell the server that they didn't have to sing. That wouldn't be so bad, and, well, it was a famous and successful business, so maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to take a look around, anyway.
She stepped in and the two servers working the counter looked up to greet her with grins the most perfect balance between forced and cheerful she had ever seen, even worse than the aggressive pageant-esque smile Zoey gave every customer she was five seconds from throttling. As weird as it felt to admit, their smiles almost scared her, but in some strange way she couldn't quite put her finger on, they were also somehow comforting and welcoming. She shook it off and walked up to the counter after realizing that she had just been frozen in the doorway, staring at the servers for a few seconds of dead silence. That must have been an awkward first impression of her.
She had caught a glimpse of the menu for three seconds at best when the first server, whose nametag read 'Brittany' and whose ever-cheerful smile read 'don't trust me with knives', cleared her throat and cocked her head slightly. "Hello, ma'am, and welcome to Cold Stone Creamery. Would you like to start with a free sample of one of our ice creams?"
"Oh, sure, okay, just a s-" she cut herself off as the second, Avery, shoved a small spoon with a sample size of light blue cotton candy ice cream into her face, all but forcing it into her mouth. "Um, thank you," she awkwardly accepted it with the most discomfort she had felt in years, which only worsened as she caught the servers sharing a quick smirk. A few seconds later, she noticed that it tasted... wrong, but, again, she couldn't really place why. There was something in the ice cream that was like nothing she could have described, and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. She turned her attention to the menu to try and distract herself, but she found herself unable to focus on anything. "I- I'm sorry, I can't seem to-"
"That's alright, would you like me to read it for you?" That was both an odd thing to ask and an uncomfortably quick and nonchalant response, but she brushed it off anyway and nodded slowly, leaning on the counter for stability. "'Apple Pie a la Cold Stone', 'Peanut Butter Cup Perfection', 'Oreo Overload', 'The Way the Cookie Crumbles', 'Honey Graham Bowl', 'Enough to Sink a Chip', 'One Smart Brookie', 'Somewhere Over the Rain-dough', 'Irish Cream for Ice Cream', 'Surrender to Strawberry'...."
She continued the list, but Nora wasn't listening. No matter what she tried, she couldn't block out the background noise that she normally wouldn't have noticed at all– Brittany tapping out a short, repetitive rhythm on the counter with her nails; the bell on the door jingling slightly from consistent vibrations outside the door; Avery quietly humming, hitting every single note perfectly to a song she had never heard before but somehow knew by heart– and the closer she listened to it, the more it all fell right into place. As weird as it was, every little sound came together to form a backing track, and even though it was pretty much the last thing she had wanted when she'd walked in, she desperately needed to hear music, like she'd die if someone didn't start singing.
"And that'll be $5.99," Avery cleared his throat, snapping her attention back to reality.
"Hm?"
"Your order, ma'am," he blinked, pointing up towards the sign. "It costs five dollars and ninety-nine cents, if you please...?"
"Oh, right, of course," she nodded, taking her wallet out of her pocket. She must have absentmindedly ordered something while she was zoned out, but she didn't really care enough to ask what it was or to change it. The ice cream was the furthest thing from her mind at this point.
"Thank you very much," he smiled as she exchanged the money for the cup, then dropped the tip in the jar. "And thanks for the tip as well, would you lik-"
"—you to sing?" She finished, tucking her wallet back into her pocket. "Absolutely."
"Just as we expected," she replied cryptically, starting the song before Nora had time to question it.
They had her complete and undivided attention, whether she liked it or not. Their voices were the nicest she'd heard in a long time (and again, she heard a fairly talented singer belt out showtunes on an almost daily basis), virtually flawless, and the unsettling atmosphere had turned back into the inexplicable comfort before she could blink. She had never heard the song before, but even though she was barely paying attention to the lyrics themselves, something about it was so familiar that she swore she knew every note and could sing along if prompted.
By the third absentminded spoonful of the ice cream, the patchwork accompaniment had been smoothly replaced by real instruments from no discernable source, but she only barely noticed. About a minute later, the two-part harmony now had a third voice, one that sounded almost familiar but just off from comfort - she soon realized that it was her own voice, singing outside of her normal vocal range, and it still sounded perfect. She tried to stop singing, but she had already lost control of her body by the time she'd noticed. The servers shared a small grin as the song drew to a close, having effectively used the Hive itself to distract her from stopping its takeover.
"Well, you didn't put up much of a fight, did you, Nora?"
"Keep an eye out for any potential red herrings," Brittany chuckled in an unsettlingly cheerful monotone, resting her chin on her hand. "Not that you have a choice, but I think we can rest assured you'll keep this between us?"
"Of course," her voice replied of its own accord.
"Lovely to hear," they sang in harmony as they waved her goodbye.
Oh.
So that's what all the fuss was about.
~•~
"Hey, Nora, I'm home," Deb called as she stepped into the apartment, setting her bag down and slipping her key back into her pocket.
"Good to see you, Debs," she smiled over her shoulder, making a batch of croissants for Beanies at the counter. If she just acted casual, Deb wouldn't look into it enough to notice what she was putting in them. She wouldn't really pay attention to pastries, of all things, if she hadn't been given a reason to care. "Did you have a good time at Alice's?"
"Mostly, yeah," she shrugged, slumping onto the couch. "Pretty sure her mom hates me, but hey, we're two for two, huh?"
"I'm sure she doesn't hate you."
"Believe me, she does. Alice had to introduce me as her 'very close friend', and she kept making little comments about me and glaring at me when she thought I wasn't looking."
"Oh, yeah, I get it now," she clicked her tongue, shooting her a sympathetic look.
"Uh-huh," she nodded slowly with a sigh. "She also asked me if my parents let me dress like this, which was a pretty fun thing to hear."
Yikes. Her mother had left her with Nora when she was a baby and she'd never met her father, so her parents was one of the toughest subjects she could possibly have brought up. The Hive liked her style. "I'm so sorry, Deb," she kept up the facade of caring, setting down the knife to walk over to the couch and rest a hand on her shoulder.
"It's fine, she didn't know," she brushed it off, avoiding eye contact. That worked out in Nora's favor, considering it meant she was less likely to notice the new bright blue tint to her eyes. "It wasn't that bad, really, I promise. I shouldn't have taken it that personally to begin with. How was your trip?" She quickly changed the subject, fiddling with a button on her flannel.
"Oh, it was pretty nice," she smiled, getting back up to go back to the counter. "Not much to talk about, really." Nothing she could tell her yet, anyway. "Not unless you want to hear me talk business for a minute. Cold Stone was a lot different from what I expected, and I'm thinking of instituting a new company policy at the coffeeshop, but that's, uh, that's not very interesting, is it?"
"Hey, it's something, right?" She leaned back on the armrest, pulling her phone out of her pocket. "You okay? You're not very talkative, is something up?"
"I'm fine, it just wasn't a very eventful weekend."
"Well, uh, what are you making?" Deb asked after a beat, not wanting to start a fight but not knowing how else to carry the conversation.
"Two batches of croissants," she answered, subconsciously digging the point of the knife into the cutting board. Maybe she could just get Deb infected now and get it out of the way so she could drop the act. She was already planning to poison Zoey as something of an inconspicuous anchor point, but it sure wouldn't hurt to have a little extra backup on her side. "Would you like to try one from the first batch? It's a new recipe I'm trying, I want to see if I can bake the Beanies pastries myself instead of buying them."
"Since when are you a baker?" She raised an eyebrow, looking them over from the couch. As long as she kept any trace of blue out of her sight, she'd be fine.
"Since when are you a critic?" She replied, trying to keep a lighthearted edge to throw her off her suspicions as she carried the plate while acting as casual as possible, knowing that it would be more suspicious to go out of her way to hide it.
"Guess I can't argue with that, but no thanks. I'm vegan, remember?"
Right. She could always go for a plan B, she would just need to keep her distracted. "You sure?"
She glanced up with a slightly uncomfortable look in her eye, leaning a little further away from her. "Uh, well, are you sure you're okay? No problems at all? 'Cause you're kind of freaking me out."
"I promise I'm alright, why do you keep asking?"
"Because you're acting weird, you keep looking at me funny, and you're making croissants with the sharpest knife we own. Is there something I should know about?"
Well, there was no way around it now. She was going to have to infect Deb as soon as possible - she was more perceptive than she realized, and she spent too much time with her not to notice something was up. She'd put the pieces together sooner or later, and Nora couldn't afford that puzzle to ever be solved. "No, there's nothing to worry about, I'm just getting a little frustrated at the moment."
"If you're angry, maybe it's not the best idea to be using that knife, eh?" She forced the words into a laugh, clearly desperate not to have her upset with her when she already appeared to be bothered in some way.
"Yeah, maybe you're right," she hid the knife beside her leg, strolling toward the couch like nothing was wrong. "Anyway, what kinds of things did you do with Alice this weekend?"
"Oh, lots of things, there's a ton of shit to do in Clivesdale," she stood up and started a long ramble, her eyes widening slightly each time she mentioned Alice. Nora thought it was sweet how much she cared about her, but the Hive was more preoccupied thinking of if and how much it'd potentially make it easier to infect Alice later down the line. "....but really, fuck Clivesdale, except when it's got Alice," she finished, standing up to grab an apple from the cupboard. "Then it can stay, I guess."
"Well, I'm glad you had such a nice time with her, honey," she smiled, quietly following her with the knife hidden behind her.
"Oh, uh, can you not call me 'honey', please? I can live with the occasional 'dear', but that makes me kind of uncomfortable."
"Sure, yeah, I'm sorry," she nodded, not really paying attention to what she was saying. "Don't worry," she grabbed her wrist from behind and pulled her around so she was holding her back with one arm around her shoulders, "I'm sure it won't happen again."
"What the hell, Nora? Get the fuck off of me!"
"Now, Deb, dear, where'd you learn to talk like that?" She admonished, dropping any attempt to act like the real Nora as she slipped the knife around her niece's shoulder so the blade sat right on her throat without actually making the cut.
"Wh-? Nora?!" She whispered, trying not to let her hear her heartbeat skyrocket.
"I thought I taught you better," she jerked her arm back and slit her throat while she was frozen in fear. Her cry of pain cut out to nothing as she pulled the knife out and her vocal cords became too damaged to make a sound. "Go ahead, scream all you want," she murmured, hooking the side of her finger under her chin to lift her head and slip a trace of the blue slime into the blood-soaked wound, "no one will be able to hear you until it's too late." Deb desperately grabbed for her hands, but she had already gotten all the 'help' she was going to get from this version of Nora. She let her collapse to the ground, taking her phone off of the couch before she could grab it and text anyone for help. She hoped she had enjoyed her sleepover, it was the last time she'd ever sleep again.
~•~
"Hello, and good morning," Nora grinned as Zoey walked through the door Monday morning to open up shop.
"Oh, hey, how was the trip?" She walked around the counter, slipping her visor on.
"It was great, thanks for asking," she took a bite out of a small dessert, one she didn't recognize from the counter. Must have been homemade. "While we're on the subject, you were absolutely right about Cold Stone, they've got it all figured out. Do you mind if we discuss a couple company policies before we open?"
"Oh, yeah, totally, go ahead."
"Lovely, it promise it won't take too long." She followed her into the back room and sat down across from her with a small plate of croissants between them, the same as the one she had been eating. They looked better than the ones they sold in the counter display cases, but that was a very low benchmark. "So, we're doing the singing," she started, interlocking her fingers. "If that's not a problem?"
"That sounds great," she crossed her legs with a smile, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Do you have anything in mind already, or...?"
"Oh, that's a problem that'll work itself out, I promise," she smiled, moving on as though that point needed no further explanation. "Now, would you mind giving me a second opinion on these, before we continue? I won't be selling any of the ones in this batch, but I made them last night to replace the ones we buy, because, let's be honest here, they're bad for business and taste like sand."
"Well, I don't really like pastries in general, I'm not a good choice for that."
"I know that, Zoey, it's not quite the normal kind," she replied with a smile, leaning back in the seat.
"Uh, what?"
"It's got some special ingredients in it that are supposed to help your singing voice," she explained, retying the bow around her neck.
"Okay, you can calm down about the whole singing thing," she tittered, trying to push aside the building sense of unease she felt the longer she looked in Nora's eyes. "I know I do it a lot, but it's really just a hobby, you know."
"Oh, did I mess up? I'm sorry, I just wanted to do something for you, I feel like I don't give enough in our friendship and-"
"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't- that's not true, Nora, you do so much for me," she stammered, grabbing one from the plate and taking a bite of it to save her feelings. It wasn't too bad, but again, she didn't have much of a reference point. "Please don't say...." she trailed off with a small cough, feeling something stick in her throat. "Uh, what's in this?"
"Ah, you know, just a little bit of honey, lemon... " Whatever was stuck in her throat started numbing it, and she tried to wash it down with the rest of the pastry, probably the worst choice she could have made in the moment. "...sugar, flour..." The numbing feeling spread from her throat to her mouth and chest, prompting more coughs and a faint wave of dizziness and nausea. "...milk, butter..." Her vision fogged and her coughs began drawing blood, which she could have sworn on her life had a purplish tint to it. "...and a small sample of the spores, just for taste." Zoey tried to ask what she meant by 'spores', but she couldn't make put a sound. By the time she had finally stopped coughing, she was barely in control of her own body, the last thing she found herself able to do was weakly reach out to Nora. "Couldn't last any longer than that?" She smirked, effortlessly pulling her up by her arm. She sang something into her ear to hold her attention and finish the job, the last note almost perfectly timed along with the sharp jingle of the bell that hung over the door. An early customer. "Seems we'll have to cut this short, Zoey, but I take it you understand the rest of the new company policies?"
"You don't even have to ask," she chirped, now fully infected and internally screaming for help despite her outward nonchalance.
"I didn't think I would," she smiled, slipping her apron over her shoulders and opening up the door to start the workday. "Good morning, sir, and welcome to Beanies, where every order is served with a song and a smile."
"What can we get for you today?"
~•~
About half a week had passed of making sure Alice still trusted Deb, trying to keep their relationship exactly like it had been before she'd gotten infected, and quick misdirections every time she suspected something was up, and it had been smooth sailing, for the most part. Alice already put a lot of trust in her, which made some of that a bit easier, but other parts took a little more effort. She cared a lot about her and was fairly good at catching the subtle differences in her emotions and behavior, so the Hive had to give its all to throw her off its trail, paying particular attention to the smaller intricacies of her habits and personality just to keep her wrapped around its finger and trick her into believing that this really was her girlfriend when in reality, she couldn't have cared less about her. Alice was an easy person to pretend to love, being as sweet and affectionate as she was. Infected Deb was crossing her fingers that she wouldn't start to worry about it anytime soon, though the real Deb would have to agree to disagree.
Thursday night, they were underneath the Hatchetfield High bleachers with Danny and Sof, both of whom were unsurprisingly high out of their minds, and Alice was calling her father to work something out that apparently involved Deb, Red Lobster, and Mamma Mia.
"...alright, Dad, well, we'll meet you at the theater, okay?" Alice nodded and ended the call, sending a quick glance to Deb as Danny pulled her aside and offered her a joint, though it was less of an offer and more of a demand.
"Take a hit, Alice!"
"I don't think I oughta," she mumbled, brushing her hair behind her ear.
"Look, she doesn't have to if she doesn't want to, okay?" Deb jumped in to defend her, keeping up the act.
"Come on, Deb, that's not how it works!" He shook his head, taking another hit. "You're either in the Smoke Club, or you're out!"
"Okay, well, then, maybe we're out," she gently rested her arms around Alice, trying to build the sense of safety, security, and comfort. "C'mon, Alice, those guys are assholes, anyway." She led her away from them, but she was stopped in her tracks by a sharp crack of thunder, comforting Alice when she flinched and trembled slightly at the sound. "Whoa," she squinted, pointing towards a hazy shape crashing down from the sky. "What's that coming through the clouds?"
"Oh, goodness," Alice mumbled, looking a little closer. "It looks dangerous and it's headed for pretty close to the Starlight, is it really safe to get any closer?"
Probably not, was the direct answer, but that wasn't going to stop Deb. From the looks of it, this could be a golden opportunity, and the Hive wasn't about to pass that up. At the very least, she could scope out the situation if she got any closer. "Well, I really don't wanna keep your dad waiting when he already doesn't like me, you know?"
"Ah, well, I guess you're right," she nodded, unsurely beginning the walk again. Deb held her flannel up over her to keep her dry and she cooed and leaned over to kiss her cheek, snuggling closer to her as they walked. She took out her phone and held it so Alice couldn't see it to text Nora what she'd seen. This might be the chance they'd been waiting for, the chance of a lifetime. She could only hope it'd all work out.
~•~
"Hey, Zo," Nora tapped the counter to get her attention, eyes glued to her phone with stars in her eyes, "you think there's any way you can get into the Starlight Theater tonight?"
"Yeah, I've got two tickets to the show, why?"
"Because it looks like this town's finally going to end up being worth something, after all," she grinned, showing her the messages Deb sent her.
"You mean...?" Zoey trailed off, raising an eyebrow. She looked out the window to see the beginning of an awful storm with, sure enough, what must have been the probably-a-meteor Deb had mentioned headed directly towards the theater. Whatever it was, it was the perfect red herring, it was even from outer space. They hadn't expected it to come this early, but it certainly wasn't unwelcome.
"Yep," she nodded, a small grin tugging at her lips. "It's showtime."