Chapter Text
Rose Lalonde, standing in front of an open closet, realized quite suddenly that this was not what she signed up for.
In front of her sat a mountain of decorations. A deluge — an abundance — a plethora. And at four o’clock in the morning, on what is quite literally the coldest day that New York City has ever seen, it was her job to hang them all up.
In theory, this shouldn’t have been much of a problem. According to a text from her boss that Rose had received last night, she and one other employee were to come in early and hang up the festive multi-holiday decorations that Corporate had sent over a few days ago. From Vriska’s writing, Rose had assumed that the “decorations” consisted of posters for the front window and maybe a few yards of tinsel or streamers. There might even be some book-shaped puffs for the ceiling. Following that logic, she heartily agreed to the task — and only right this moment does she truly understand the grave severity of her miscalculations.
The only consolation she has right now is that, in theory, there should be someone else coming in that door very soon to help her out with this Herculean task. However, because Rose actually knows her coworkers, she suddenly feels a lurking suspicion that she’s going to be embarking on this journey alone.
Rose stifles a yawn (even though there is no one else around to reprimand her for her breach in etiquette). She had five hours before the store opens and Vriska walks through the door. She could probably afford to take a moment to walk outside and grab a coffee… or a tea… with caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine.
Just as she turns to make for the exit, though, the building is filled with the distinctive sound of a door creaking on its hinges. Rose maneuvers expertly through the maze of bookshelves, quite relieved that there is going to be someone on her side after all.
Or, well.
Quite relieved until she sees who it is.
Taking up the entire doorway, horns almost scraping the top — in the entrance of Barnes and Noble stands the hugest jerkass that the world had ever seen. He’s wearing a long blue scarf of Doctor-esque proportions, and a very large coat over skinny jeans. There are two steaming cups of Starbucks in his hands, if the green logo plastered all over them is any indication. And he is smiling pleasantly — until he catches sight of Rose. Then, all pretenses drop in the mud and are never, ever recovered.
“Hello,” Rose says casually, leaning one hand on a nearby shelf.
Eridan Ampora puts down one cup of Starbucks, and takes a sip from the other.
“Mornin’.”
What an asshole.
The silence stretches, longer than Rose thought it was even possible. But eventually the troll saunters right past her, all hips and douchebaggery, and over to the back closet. “Vris tells me it’s all back here,” he says, with liberal application of false indifference. “That true?”
“It is.”
He turns back around and smiles at her; a predatory smile, appropriate for his species’ status as predators. “In that case,” he says, “let’s get started, shall we?”
Rose walks over and picks up the second of Eridan’s coffees. She takes a big gulp of it, not cringing at all as the disgustingly salty liquid burns her tongue and rolls down her throat. (There was no way Eridan could have bought this specifically for Rose, he didn’t know she was coming — does that postmodern imbecile drink this flavor normally?) “I was just on my way out to find some refreshments,” she responds, “but seeing as you’ve so kindly taken care of that for me, I see no reason why we shouldn’t get started right now.” The expression on her face could freeze a meteor that just entered the Earth’s atmosphere.
Eridan opens the closet. Rose strolls over, right next to him, and ever-so-casually reaches for one of the circular globes that are probably to be placed on the counter. Eridan watches her warily, uncertain as to why she’s starting on the bottom instead of the top.
Why, if she’s not careful, she could pull the wrong thing out, and the whole Tower of Holiday Cheer would come crumbling down like so many bricks in a Jenga tower…
…Whoops.
Rose smiles, just as horribly as Eridan does, as the inflatable reindeer come down.