Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Poppy bustled around the local markets just around the corner from her home, her mind abuzz as she skipped amongst the vendors, collecting vegetables and supplies for her celebratory dinner feast that evening. She had just landed an exclusive interview with one of Trollstopia’s elusive leading authorities that day and it had aired that very afternoon on Trolls TV. A political personality who normally would shy away from any media attention, but was an incredible revolutionary in his methods for uniting and moving the mass troll community forward.

She couldn’t be more thrilled. This was going to be her big break!! This could lead on to so many bigger and better things, better than the ‘fluff piece’ reporting she’d be suffering through the last year. The interview had gone so well that morning; it had been received remarkably well by her boss and she couldn’t help but feel a small swell of pride with the reception from everyone. But she knew she wouldn’t have managed it if it weren’t for the assistance from a certain teal troll…. head advisor to the leader, his boss, and put in a good word for her.

The thought of said teal troll made her heart skip a beat. A little. Again. For the fifth time that day. But she had to remind herself, he was taken. Engaged. Ugh. What he did was just a favour for a friend. He would have done it for anybody, right? But deep down she knew… there were hundreds of other media companies lining up outside parliament house the last few days, waiting for the exclusive scoop on the latest diplomatic proceedings. And yet he had chosen to help her. He didn’t need to. But that had to stand for something right….

She shook the confusing thoughts from her mind as she kicked the door open to her apartment and stumbled up the stairs to her kitchen with her loaded bags in hand, losing a few unfortunate oranges back down the stairs in the proceedings.

Tonight was going to be awesome. Her close friends Guy, Suki and Smidge had caught her scoop on the afternoon’s tv news bulletin and had invited themselves over to Poppy’s apartment for immediate bragging celebrations. Poppy didn’t mind in the slightest. She loved having her friends over, even if she wasn’t the greatest at cooking… or baking.. or anything kitchen related really. Partying was more her style. But tonight, she was determined to show some maturity, with the prospect of her new title as… as she vocalized to her goldfish, who just stared dumbly back at her…."a world famous revolutionary journalist!”.

Such a title implied that she was immediately capable of cooking the most amazing… delicious…  awesome meal they would have ever loaded into their mouths. A glass of wine down and she was ready to believe it.

“Prepare to be mind blown, my friends….” she chuckled to herself as she poured another half a glass. She had a sneaking suspicion that was going to be somewhat of a revolutionary in the kitchen as well.  

It was going to be SO easy. Three courses. Just follow the recipes. How hard could it be. After spreading the entire contents of the grocery bags across her limited kitchen bench space, she was ready to begin.

“Right,” she said as she eyed the first instruction with gusto. “Tie the peeled leeks with string and submerge in stock bath…”

String. Where did she keep string. Wait. Did she even HAVE any string… she disappeared to her bedroom and fumbled through her scrap-booking drawers and pulled out some blue wool.

Perfect. This was going to be SO easy.

Next.

“Thinly slice orange and finely grate the zest…”

Dammit. She didn’t have a grater. And her oranges were at the bottom of the stairs. 

Later…

After fumbling through the first 27 steps (with copious swigs of wine in between) she was now onto pureeing the green olives, nut milk and flour together to add to her caper berry gravy.

Easy. Toss it all in the food processor and hit go. Although, she realized AFTER she hit the go button, that securing the lid on top would PROBABLY be a sensible idea.

So she had nutty green olive slush splattered all her kitchen and now all over her front. No problem. Still plenty of time to salvage the operation, and her appearance, before the friends arrived.  

And then, of course, the doorbell rang.

Ding dong.

Poppy groaned.

“What kind of time do you call this?” she muttered to herself, eyeing the clock. It was still an hour before they were due to come over! Poppy gritted her teeth as she attempted to sponge a bit of nut slush out of her hair as she descended down the stairs.

“I mean, I know none of you actually own a watch…” she started loudly as she swung the door open, “but perhaps could you maybe think about—” and then she looked up.

Oh. It wasn’t her friends.

It was Branch.

Branch was on her doorstep. In a suit. Looking at her. In all her finery of wet aprons and green olive nut slush. She was at a loss for words. Partly due to embarrassment but partly because he looked… wow. Damn, did he ALWAYS look like this, just for work?? Woof.

Branch stood silent for a moment as he too, took in the sight before him, trying his best to hide the smirk creeping over his lips before clearing his throat to speak.

“I uh… came to congratulate the new face of Trollstopia Correspondence and Current Affairs….” he said quietly as he eyes flicked down again to the visual disaster in front of him. His lip twitched as he tried to contain another smirk. “But I seem to have come at a bad time…..”

Seeing Branch's expression, a massive goofy smile spread across Poppy’s face before she exploded in a fit of embarrassed giggles.

“Ahh, hair,” she sighed, slicking a wad of sticky hair back off her face. “I need some serious help. Like, in more ways than one. Can you come in?”
She paused, realising her forwardness and quickly rephrased.
“Would you mind coming in?” she asked, her eyes getting lost in his for a glorious 3 microseconds.

Branch was quiet for a moment as he considered the offer. Then gave her a smile and shy nod before following her inside.

Chapter Text

Ten minutes later and the kitchen was fired up again.

“How’s it looking?” Poppy called from the bathroom, cleaning the last of the muck out of her hair.

Branch was in the kitchen, manning the stovetop. His jacket discarded and his business shirt sleeves rolled up, ready to go.

He was staring down at what he was stirring in the pot. He wasn’t entirely sure.

“Uhhh, it’s great…” he called as she emerged with a towel wrapped around her hair. “It’s um… blue.”

Poppy gasped.

“Blue?? What the hair…” she rushed across and peered over his shoulder down at the broth bubbling away on the stovetop. Sure enough, there were the tied leeks. Sitting a creamy frothy bath of… blue liquid.

“But, you know, blue is good…” Branch offered, still stirring. “If you ask me, there isn’t enough blue food…”

They exchanged amused glances before Poppy’s face dropped.

“Oh SUGAR!” she realised, slapping her forehead. “It must have been the wool!”

Poppy glanced up at the clock again and groaned. She started rushing around the kitchen, trying to clear a bit of space. “Ugggh they’re going to be here any minute….” she said frantically, dumping a pile of dirty pans into the sink.

Branch turned down the heat on the bubbling pot and wandered over to her kitchen table.

“Poppy, I’m sure they’re coming to see you and not the...” his hand trailed over the soiled recipe book open on the table. “… orange parfait and frittered semi-fredo… things….”

Poppy turned around and saw him smirk at her. She couldn’t help but smile back. This whole thing was ridiculous. But it was so nice that he was here.

“Here,“ he offered, uncorking the opened wine bottle sitting on the table and filling her glass to the top. “Have a drink, calm your nerves.”

Poppy sighed. Great idea. She joined him over at the table, taking the glass from his hand. Her heart skipped a beat when their fingers brushed briefly. He smiled warmly as he raised his glass to her.

“Congratulations on a really awesome interview, Poppy,” he said, his voice soft and his eyes genuine. Poppy’s heart melted into her toes as they clinked glasses.

“Thank you,” she giggled, hiding a blush behind her glass.

This was nice. This was all so NICE. He was so nice. Ugh. Help.

For a moment the room fell comfortably silent as they each finished their sips and pondered over where to take the next step in conversation. Poppy had an idea. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“So… did I really use to run around your Grandma Rosiepuff’s garden naked as a kid?” she asked with a grin. Branch nodded matter-of-factly.

“Oh, absolutely,” he confirmed, with a slight twinkle in his eye. “You were four and I was eight.”

Poppy was a little surprised at this new piece of knowledge. So there was four years difference between them. Interesting…

“That’s a bit of an age gap…” she said, a little mischievously. She couldn’t help but add “…it’s a bit pervy actually.”

Ooo crumbs, had she just gone a bit too far….

Nope. Branch just quirked an eyebrow back at her and replied coolly, “Yeah, I like to think so.”

Poppy giggled at the cheeky remark. Then another light pause. Eyes locked. Poppy’s heart started to dance in her chest again as he gazed at her. She couldn't help but notice a hint of longing in his eyes.

He’s taken.
Branch is TAKEN.
What am I even doing.
What is HE doing.
Hair, I wish he’d stop looking at me like that.
Who am I kidding.
Don’t stop looking at me like that.

She took in a steady breath to calm herself.

“Soooo…” she said, clearing her throat and gesturing back towards the bombsite that was the kitchen. “What are we going to do about this dinner then?”

Branch thought for a moment and turned his focus back to the kitchen as well.

“Well, we have blue soup to start….” he said, hiking his sleeves up a little further and striding back towards the stove with revived determination. Poppy giggled as she followed behind him.

“…Orange pudding to end….” he continued, grabbing a wooden spoon from the bench. “And for a main we have….” He peered into the second large pot on the stove and saw what he could only describe as “…congealed green slop.”

Poppy came up beside him and glanced into the pot as well. She cringed at what lurked at the bottom but quickly recovered to give Branch a shove in the shoulder.

“Excuse me,” she said snootily. “That happens to be my caper berry gravy!”

Branch chuckled and took another look in the pot. He turned back to her.

“Do you have eggs?” he asked quickly. Poppy nodded immediately and moved to get them out of the fridge.

“Right, omelet it is then,” Branch announced, clearing some bench space and working through the cupboards to find a clean pan. He shot Poppy a quick glance and added with a smile, “with caper berry gravy, of course.”

Branch was quick to start putting together the revised main. He stood whisking the eggs over the stove like a madman, while Poppy stood next to him with a sieve and bowl trying to salvage her chunky caper berry gravy.

The pair kept exchanging smiles and small glances as the last of the meal came together. Just as they flipped the last omelet onto a plate, the doorbell rang. 

“Ah, they’re here!” Poppy squeaked, throwing off her apron and skipping down the stairs. Branch remained in the kitchen, starting to clear the piles of dirty pans and dishes.

He could hear shrieks and whoops of laughter from downstairs as Poppy’s friends Guy, Suki and Smidge made their way inside. They all worked their way up the stairs, all talking over the top of each other and at a mile a minute, with bottles of wine and packets of chips in hand.

Branch started feeling a little uncomfortable with the sudden prospect of being in Poppy’s kitchen and meeting her friends, who honestly sounded insane. He decided to busy himself with the mess instead of standing awkwardly. He didn’t even know why he was feeling so awkward. Let alone what he was doing in her apartment, feeling awkward.  

The voices increased in volume as the group made it up to the first floor. They were all so preoccupied within themselves, cackling and shouting, that they didn’t notice Branch straight away. When they turned the corner from the landing saw him standing quietly in the kitchen, the whole five simultaneous conversations came to an abrupt halt.

The friends stood, dumbfounded. Jaws dropped, eyes bulging. Except for Guy, who had a stupid grin plastered over his face.

“Helloooo…” Guy schmoozed, throwing Branch a million dollar smile. “Are you joining us?”

Smidge and Suki exchanged knowing glances. Branch swallowed nervously and was relieved when Poppy popped up from behind the group.

She smiled her biggest smile. “Of course!” she said happily. She glanced quickly at Branch to gauge his expression. “You’ll stay, won’t you?”

Branch was a little unsure and rather uncomfortable at this point, but saw the look in Poppy’s eyes and instantly caved. He nodded with a small smile.

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “Why not.”

Chapter Text

Thick silence hung as the five trolls sat around the table, attempting to make a start on the meal in front of them.

The soup. The blue soup.

Suki leaned in over her bowl and sniffed it a little, gingerly picking up her spoon before shifting a nervous glance over to Smidge.

Smidge was dipping her spoon into the blue liquid and lifting it slowly upward, curling her nose at the broth as it dribbled off her spoon.

Guy was pretending his was too hot, sitting with a loaded spoon in front of his mouth and poking his tongue over the smallest area. He grimaced and glanced across to the others who were all looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Poppy was watching all of this transpire out of the corner of her eye with much amusement, a small smirk playing across her lips as she looked over to Branch to see how he was going. He was looking just as uneasy as the others.  

Finally, the silence was broken as Branch cleared his throat.

“Excellent,” he muttered, keeping his eyes on his bowl. The others all murmured and nodded in agreement while continuing to delay actually eating.

Suki stirred her soup.

Guy clinked his spoon against his bowl for effect. 

Poppy bit her lip, containing her brewing amusement.

“… Delicious,” Guy agreed, finally attempting a small sip before gagging and sending splatters of soup across the table, breaking the tension instantly and sending everyone into fits of laughter.

After the laughter died down and the mood now considerably lifted, Poppy stood up to ready the next course.

“Come on, eat up!” she urged, tapping the table. “Two more lovely courses to go!”

Smidge, Suki and Guy all looked at each other, slightly horrified at the prospect of what was to come.

Thankfully, the omelet main went off without much of a hitch, aside from being slightly underwhelming and visually overshowed by Poppy’s unsuccessfully sieved caper berry gravy.

Dessert was not much of a reprieve.

The orange parfait had not gone to plan either, and had ended up more like a sticky, gummy jam.

The party sat around, scraping chunks of the ‘parfait’ off their spoons onto the sliced pieces of fruit that was served with it.

Guy put a loaded orange slice into his mouth, turning to Poppy with a forced smile.

“Mmmm…. duhleshushhh!” he muffled through a sticky full mouth, and this set off everyone cackling again.

“This is the worst of the three, I think…” Branch declared to the group, looking over to Poppy with a grin who just beamed back at him. She was so pleased he was starting to relax and enjoy himself.

Not that it mattered. He was just a friend. A friend who had kept shooting little adorable glances her way through the entire meal. It’s totally, TOTALLY normal.  

“It does actually remind me of something…” Suki said, rolling a lump of the dessert around in her mouth and smacking her lips together to decipher the taste. “It tastes like….”

“Marmalade,” Smidge answered simply, trying to shake her own spoonful back onto her plate, but by now it was sticking to practically everything.

“Well done, Pops,” Guy said, picking up his drink and turning to Poppy at the head of the table. “Four hours of careful cooking, and a feast of blue soup… omelet… and marmalade. I think that deserves a toast, don’t you?” He grinned at her and she narrowed her eyes at him with a grin of her own. Everyone followed Guy’s lead and raised their glasses to the centre of the table.

“To Poppy!” Guy announced grandly. “Who we love. But who cannot cook to save herself.”

Poppy giggled as the group clinked their glasses and chanted, “to Poppy… who cannot cook to save herself!”

The group all laughed again as they all took a drink and simmered down to light chatter while the meal finished up. Poppy couldn’t help but notice Branch was gazing at her again quietly as conversation rolled around the table. And much to the pair’s blissful ignorance, the others were noticing it too.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Guy and Suki both shot up simultaneously to grab it, not wanting to spoil the cozy interaction between Poppy or Branch, but were instantly waved down by Smidge who stood up and disappeared quickly down the stairs to answer the door.

Suki and Guy exchanged knowing glances as they eyed Branch and Poppy chatting quietly amongst themselves and waited for Smidge to return.

Smidge was back up the stairs within a minute but had a look of thunder on her face as she rejoined the party.

“Who was it, Smidge?” Poppy asked, slightly concerned at Smidge’s expression, but before she could get an answer, the visitor made their presence known as they clambered noisily up the stairs.

“Hi… hi, sorry everyone…sorry…!”

As soon as she heard the voice, Poppy’s blood ran cold. That pompous, all too familiar voice as it approached the dining room.

And before Poppy could run, or hide under the table, or jump out her dining room window to escape, there he was. Standing, or rather…. swaying at the dining room entrance. Hair disheveled and a bottle of stoutberry whiskey in his hand, nearly two thirds drained.

Creek. Her two-timing EX-boyfriend, as of 6 weeks ago.

What the hair was he doing here??

Chapter Text

Memories still raw from 6 weeks ago immediately bubbled back to the surface as Poppy watched Creek swaying dangerously in her doorway. She swallowed back the bile that had lurched up in her throat.

6 weeks ago she had walked into Creek’s apartment on a surprise visit, only to have found him, and a female forest troll, naked and tangled together on his bedroom floor. They were ‘practicing yoga’ - was his pathetically veiled excuse. The thought of it, of her, of them, their position… sent her mind reeling. She felt ill, and it wasn’t from the blue soup.

Everyone at the table was silent, waiting.

Creek, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to Poppy’s discomfort and the thick tension piling up in the room.  

“Ah, sorry everyone,” Creek chuckled sheepishly, steadying himself on the door frame. “I didn’t mean to interrupt the--” he brought his gaze up and instantly sobered when he saw the company seated at the table. He blinked hard, squinting, almost like he didn’t trust what his eyes were seeing.

“Branch…?” he spluttered. He blinked again in utter disbelief. “What the hair are you doing here…”

Branch and Poppy exchanged a quick, uneasy glance. It was enough for Creek to join the dots.

“Ah,” he said, nodding his head, seemingly understanding. “Of course. I should have guessed. Here I was thinking you’d be alone tonight…” He half chuckled to himself. “Huh. What an idiot.”

By now Poppy’s friends were all glaring at him, silently willing him to leave.

Poppy gritted her teeth at his comment. She realized she wasn’t going to get him out of there easily; he obviously had come by to get something off his chest. She was going to spare her friends the awkward rambling though and, as much as she was dreading it, she slowly stood up and ushered him off to the kitchen.  

The room fell silent again as the friends all leaned a little towards the direction of the kitchen, keen to hear what the scumbag had to say.  

Branch sat unmoved, quietly stewing as thoughts started to roll around in his mind.

Once in the kitchen, Poppy moved over to lean against her kitchen bench, arms crossed, her expression cold as she stared at him expectantly. She felt queasy as he approached her, a little too close for her liking, but waited for him to say his piece. As he leaned in, she could smell the whiskey on his breath. Delightful.

“I’ve been going crazy,” he whispered frantically, as he put his bottle down on the bench. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and… crumbs, is that… blue soup?” Poppy looked up and saw him staring at the soup dishes stacked up in the sink. She nodded nonchalantly, like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Creek chuckled and moved in a little closer. Poppy tried to ignore her heart as it started to thump a little harder in her chest. Was it fear, nervousness, anticipation? She wasn’t sure. He didn’t give her much time to overthink it.

“Poppy,” he pressed, daring to move a hand over her waist. “I want you to come back to me.” The feeling of his hand on her again sent her mind slightly off course. This was so wrong. So why didn’t she bat his hand away?

“What about uh….” she queried blindly before she could stop herself. What was she doing??  Creek furrowed his brow at her as he worked out who she was meaning. The penny dropped.

“Oh!” he said, scrunching his face up, almost disgusted. “Her? Oh no, no. No, absolutely over. Finished. Finito. She dumped me,” he said, waving his hand dramatically. Poppy was quiet, somewhat taken aback by this turn of events. It was over?  Creek looked at her with what she felt was an earnest expression, and he smiled at her.

“Dumped me when she realized… I hadn’t gotten over you.” Poppy couldn’t help let a warm smile dance across her lips at these words. Did this mean….?  Creek leaned in and placed a hand across her cheek.

“Pops,” he whispered, their noses almost touching. “I’ve missed you…”

Just as Poppy was about to let him steal a kiss, abrupt footsteps interrupted them from the kitchen entrance.

“I’m leaving now.”

Poppy snapped her head around to the voice like she just had a bucket of ice dumped over her.

Branch was standing in the doorway, jacket in hand, ready to leave and a frosty expression on his face.

“Bye,” he said quietly, turning to leave. Poppy blinked a few times as the present moment came crashing back to her. Hair, what was she doing??  She had completely ignored the rest of her guests and was getting caught up in Creek’s stupidly seductive net. With Branch here. Gah. Not good.

She pulled herself out of the kitchen and caught Branch by the arm gently, pulling him back around and giving him an apologetic look.

“Branch, stay,” she offered weakly, not really knowing what else to say. She knew he had just caught them a microsecond away from kissing. She couldn't gloss over it. She felt awful. She could tell by the look on his face he felt awful too.

Branch shook his head, not wanting to make eye contact with her now. Her stomach twisted a little at that.

“I don’t think I will…” he said, becoming more desperate to leave by the second.

Just then Creek oozed in from the kitchen behind Poppy, a smug smile playing across his face as he caught onto Branch’s discomfort with the whole situation.

“Don’t leave on my behalf, mate,” he said, his voice dripping with fake sweetness. “Have a celebratory drink with Poppy and me, eh? Put the past behind us, let bygones be bygones.”

Creek then draped an arm around an unsuspecting Poppy, who visibly stiffened at the gesture. She felt completely helpless at this point, eyes wide and expression pained in silent politeness. She kept her eyes glued on Branch but he was now staring daggers at Creek, who deliberately rubbed Poppy’s arm and pulled her closer.

That was it. Branch had seen enough.

“Bye, Poppy.”

And with that, he was down the stairs and out the door. Poppy followed him to the landing and watched him leave, letting the last moments of conversation play back through her mind. She turned back to Creek with narrowed eyes, now trying to piece everything together.

“Why are you here?” she asked, point blank. Creek scoffed awkwardly at the question and waved a hand at her.

“Why am I  here?” he retorted, somewhat offended. “What’s Mr ‘Branch-Up-His-Arse’ Branch doing here—”

Suddenly his words were cut short as the downstairs door flung open again and Branch marched back up the stairs, his face like thunder and coming straight at Creek.

“Alright, Creek, outside,” he ordered. Creek snorted immediately.

“What? Outside?” he repeated, stifling a laugh. Branch said nothing, fists curled at his sides. Creek gathered himself together and looked at Branch with mock seriousness. “Of course. Should I bring my dueling pistols or my sword?”

Branch just glared at him, unamused, and stormed back down the stairs. Creek rolled his eyes at Poppy before flashing her a reassuring smile and following the teal troll downstairs.

Poppy, unsure of where this was all headed, rushed into her friends still seated impatiently at the dinner table and filled them in on the situation. It wasn’t long before they had all piled downstairs and standing at the open front door, watching the two trolls outside in the street like it was high noon.

Creek sauntered smugly up to Branch, who was standing rigid, fuming, trying to steady his breathing.

“I should have done this years ago,” Branch seethed.

“Done what?” Creek smirked, his tone laced with contempt.

“This.”

And before Creek could prepare himself, Branch’s fist had slammed straight into Creek’s face.     

Chapter Text

Branch watched on as Creek stumbled back from the abrupt impact. He came to an undignified halt, clutching his hands over his nose.

Branch quietly congratulated himself for landing a punch where the results would serve as a reminder for days. On the outside, he glared Creek down silently.

“Ughhhhh. UGHHHHHHH.” Creek’s voice came out muffled and strained behind his hands. “Fudge FROSTING that hurt!” He paused and looked up at Branch with confused exasperation. “What the fuzz do you think you’re doing??”

Branch stepped forward, readying himself.

“This.”

And without skipping a beat, Branch’s fist made contact with Creek’s face again. This time sending Creek slamming to the pavement.

The others, who were watching engrossed from Poppy’s front porch, flinched with an array of sympathetic hisses and ‘ooo’s’. Guy Diamond skipped down the steps and behind the unfolding scene, making a dash for the cosy restaurant across the street.

He burst through the double doors without a second thought, diners and staff all turning to the abrupt interruption.

Guy looked around, his whole body practically jittering with excitement. He turned to a couple of nearby waiters who were staring at him expectedly, full trays in hand.

“Fight.” Guy said grinning, eyes wide. Silence as everyone exchanged confused glances. Guy tried again, annoyed at the lack of response.

“Well, come on!” he pressed, shouting it skyward like it was a gift from the heavens. “It’s a REAL FIGHT!!!” And with that, he disappeared back outside.

Half the restaurant scrambled to follow him.

Meanwhile, back in the warzone, Creek had peeled himself off the pavement and had come to rest upon a group of trashcans while he collected himself. Branch stood silently a few feet away, glaring, waiting.

“Alright, alright I give up ok?“ Creek spluttered, hand out in desperation to stop any further assault from Branch. “Just… just give me a moment…”

Branch stepped further back, taking the opportunity to calm down. He was seething. So much so, that he didn’t see Creek make a quick grab for a trashcan lid behind him. And before Branch could register, Creek had lunged at him, slamming the lid brutally over Branch’s head and sending him hurtling to the ground.

The audience, which had now gathered outside the restaurant, all gasped in shock. Guy Diamond, who was front and centre, hollered, appalled, ‘CHEAT!!! That was SUCH a dirty move!!!!”

And from that moment, it was like the battle canon had been fired.

It was war.

The two male trolls dove into a violent wrestling match with hostile enthusiasm. Grabbing roughly, ripping out fistfuls of hair, twisting arms and legs into awkward positions and tossing each other to the ground, swinging kicks and throwing punches at any given opportunity. All the while grunting and growling like two wild animals. It was quite the spectacle.  

The crowd surrounding them were lapping it up, cheering for impressive moves and yelling disapprovingly at foul play. At one point Guy scooted around the action back across to the others still standing on the porch.

“Whose side are we on??” Guy asked eagerly as he joined them, still buzzing from excitement.

“Branch’s, obviously!” Suki and Smidge both said in unison, eyes still glued to the action.

“He didn’t leave Poppy for some naked Forest Troll!” Suki scoffed.

Poppy was thoughtful at Suki’s words. “Yes, but Branch also stole Creek’s fiancé and left him broken hearted.”

That was the truth, as Creek had filled her in on, anyway. The sordid backstory between Creek and Branch explaining the severe animosity between the two male trolls.

Stolen partners, heartbreak… Poppy couldn’t fathom how someone like Branch was even capable of such a low deed. 

But now, watching the fight transpire, Poppy was more confused than anything. Seeing Creek as cool as a cucumber leading up to the punch… and watching Branch throw that first punch with such venom… the placement of hostility just wasn’t adding up.

But she wasn’t about to step in.

Like. It was a REAL FIGHT. 

Branch and Creek were visibly tiring by this point, but neither were backing down. They had now regressed to shoving their hands into each other’s faces, covering each other’s eyes with rough fingers, pushing each other around blindly. Stumbling, they pushed each other up onto the kerb and Poppy’s eyes grew wide as she saw them blast through the restaurant doors.

Poppy gasped. Too far. Too far!

She leapt down from her porch and dashed across the road, the others hot on her tail. The rest of the crowd scrambling and pushing behind them to get back inside to keep up with the entertainment.

Branch and Creek were now deep in the guts of the restaurant, still mindlessly shoving each other around while diners looked on in stunned silence. Dinner tables and their contents were toppling over in every direction.

Creek came crashing down backwards on top of one couple’s table – meal, wine and all.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” he gasped up to the dumbfounded couple as Branch pinned him down from above. Creek managed to lift a leg and kick it forward right into Branch’s crotch, sending him reeling and stumbling back onto another diner’s well stocked table.

Branch was mortified as he realized what he had done. He stammered apologies as he made a futile attempt at scraping lashings of catapulted gravy off the diner’s jacket with his bare hands. 

Creek sauntered up behind him, chuckling at Branch’s predicament.

“Had enough, Branch?”

Branch stopped and clenched his jaw.

“Not quite, if that’s alright by you.”

And with another surge of energy he swung around, his fist slamming across Creek’s jaw. Creek, once again, met the floor.

“ARGH! You broke my bloody jaw!!” 

Suddenly, everyone froze.

Cheerful strains of ‘Happy Birthday’ could be heard approaching the dining area. A waiter was making their way from the kitchen carrying a massive birthday cake, covered in sparklers, glitter and rainbow candy. When they came into the main eating area, they looked up and froze at the scene laid out in front of them.

There was a moment of thick silence. No one knew what to do. The staff all quickly turned to the rest of the crowd and gesticulated for everyone to resume singing, not daring to dampen the mood of the special occasion. Nervous glances were exchanged but everyone, including Branch and Creek, strangely complied and started awkwardly murmuring the words to ‘Happy Birthday’ as they watched the cake get delivered to the expecting recipient.

Anticipation was hanging over everyone’s heads as the song reached its end. The crowd all applauded, a little uneasily.

As soon as the cake was safely placed on the table, Creek made an aggressive beeline across the room, grabbing Branch roughly around the middle and taking them both rocketing through the nearest glass restaurant window.  

The two trolls landed on the outside pavement in a shattered heap. Smashed glass was littered all around them.

Both trolls laid exhausted, groaning, bleeding. Unable and unwilling to move. Trying to shut out the reality of what they both just did.

Branch wondered if he pretended to be dead, maybe they could escape jail time.

Poppy and her friends burst back out through the restaurant doors to find the pair sprawled across the pavement. They were relieved when they heard garbled groaning noises from both trolls.

After a long while, Branch and Creek finally made a shaky attempt at standing up, shards of glass dripping off their shoulders and chinking onto the pavement. Poppy kept back, keeping a wary eye. Praying that… surely… they couldn’t do any more possible damage to themselves. And the surrounding real estate. She swallowed nervously.  

Creek attempted to straighten up but soon doubled back over, the effects of the fight finally catching up with him. He reached up, waving a flailing hand towards a heaving Branch, muttering words of surrender.

“Alright…. Enough… enough…”

Branch nodded in agreeance, internally relieved. He waved an acknowledging hand back at Creek and straightened up to walk away. But as he had his back turned, Creek could not resist one… final... stab.

“Glitter tosser…”

Branch halted and gritted his teeth. His whole body was aching at this point but his conscience itched at the comment. The slither of dignity he had left was at stake.

Should he…? He definitely should. And he did.

For the final time that night, Branch’s clenched fist met with Creek’s face. The entire crowd gasped as Creek’s body ricocheted violently with the impact. He flopped backwards onto the pavement, completely out cold.

It was over. Branch stood up a little taller and breathed out an exhausted exhale. Finally satisfied.

But Poppy was not.

Oh no, she was not.

Glaring daggers at Branch she quickly ran to Creek’s limp body, kneeling down to gauge his condition. She shot an accusing look at Branch, her temper flared.

“What is your PROBLEM??” she shouted angrily.

Branch was incredulous. “My problem??” he spluttered.

“You give the impression of being all moral and noble…” Poppy scolded, a hint of disappointment creeping into her voice. “And normal. And… and helpful in the kitchen. But you’re just as bad as the rest of them!”

Branch’s mind went numb as he absorbed her words. He didn’t understand why she was so angry at him. Sure, he had thrown down some punches, but they were all justified. How could she not see that? Creek was an utter arse!!

He was just as bad as the rest of them…? HE was…? Was he…?

Ugh. Branch was completely overdone at this point. He looked down at Poppy crouched next to Creek, and suddenly he was too tired to argue further.

“Well you obviously have made your choice,” he said, defeated, trying to mask the bitterness in his voice. “I’m sorry. I was an idiot to believe you would have felt otherwise.” 

He picked up his jacket which had long been discarded on the road, and, without another word, he slowly staggered away. The crowd moved for him and finally began to disperse knowing the action was over.

Poppy frowned as she watched Branch leave, his parting words ticking over in her mind. Before she could piece any logical thoughts together, she heard a groan from the pavement.

She turned around as Creek had shuffled weakly up onto his elbows, wincing from the pain but still managing a dashing smile in amongst the cuts, bruises and swelling.

She smiled awkwardly as he strained to wiggle his eyebrows at her. Poppy admired his tenacity, but her mind was made up as a trickle of blood oozed from his lip.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Creek grinned, glad the drama was over and he was finally alone with Poppy. Finally getting somewhere. Victory was his.

But when Poppy just stared at him, fiddling uncomfortably with her fingers, he tried again, reaching for her hand. “We belong together, Pops. You, me…” he smiled warmly, “your stupid little goldfish...”

Poppy twitched at the comment but remained silent.

Creek tried once more, turning the charm up ten-fold. He leaned in and stroked her face with his gammy hand in an attempt to appear romantic.

Or so he thought.

“If I can’t make it with you, Pops… I can’t make it with anyone.”

And there it was. The last nail in the coffin. The confirmation Poppy needed that she had made the right decision 2 minutes ago.

The right decision an hour ago.

6 weeks ago.

Creek was an utter arse.

She paused a moment as she chewed over a response. Her voice was gentle, but firm as she spoke to him. 

“That’s really not a good enough offer for me,” she said simply.

Creek blinked, unsure if he heard her right. Poppy continued, spurred on by her own conviction.

“I’m not willing to gamble my whole life away on someone who’s… well… ‘not quite sure’.”

Creek opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He looked completely bewildered.

“It’s like you said,” Poppy went on, “when it was first over… I’m like you, Creek. I’m still looking for something.” She laid a hand on his arm as she moved to get up. “Much more extraordinary than that.”

And with that, she stood up, leaving Creek on the floor - staring after her dumbfounded and very much on his own.

Chapter Text

As she crossed the road and made the steps back up to her front door, Poppy paused when her hand reached the doorknob.

“I was an idiot to believe you would have felt otherwise.”

Branch’s parting words rattled around in her head.

Felt otherwise to what?! Did he think she and Creek were together? Is that what that meant? What the hair did it matter, he was taken! Why was he so upset about the prospect of her and Creek? Poppy was kind of embarrassed that Branch would actually think that. But, it was no excuse to punch the daylights out of him! Something inside her urged to clear things up and make sure everyone was on the same page, one way or another. Poppy knew full well she wouldn’t sleep if her conscience was left to fester, knowing Branch was left to make assumptions.

Not that it mattered. It shouldn’t. But, for some small reason, Branch’s opinion of her DID matter. 

She hoped he hadn’t gotten too far.

She let Smidge and the others back into the apartment and grabbed a thin jacket on the way back out. The night air had cooled a lot since the heated atmosphere of the fight had died down.

Poppy wrapped the jacket tightly around her as she walked in the direction of where Branch had left. She knew his apartment was just across town, reaching it was easiest via a walk through the nearby park. The park was well lit with colourful fairy nights wrapping around every lamp post. There were a handful of other trolls still out taking a night stroll as Poppy wandering along the path. 

Poppy knew the chances of finding him at this point were pretty slim, but she was determined to try. Plus she was worried about any injuries he might have sustained during the fight. He left so quickly he didn’t think to check himself over.

That was the excuse she convinced herself of, anyway. She had an excuse in case she…

Found him.

Her eyes fell upon Branch slumped over a park bench with his head in his hands. His fingers raking through his hair in frustration.

Poppy tried to ignore the way her heart squeezed at the sight of him as she quietly approached.

“Hey,” she murmured.

Branch jumped at the sound of her voice. As soon as he saw her, he scrambled to get up.

“Poppy!” he yelped. “I—uh. I… uggggggh,” he winced as his head started immediately throbbing, and he quickly sat back down.

Poppy quietly joined him, giving him a few feet of space on the bench. Branch groaned.

“Clara is going to kill me on Monday,” he muttered woefully through his hands.

Poppy was confused. “But, aren’t you about to see her now, at home? She must be worried sick about you…”

“I don’t live with my work colleagues, Poppy.”

Poppy gave him a light shove in the arm. “I don’t mean your work mate Clara, I mean your FIANCÉ Clara, silly. You sure know a lot of Claras, though. Your fiancé … Clara… must be worried sick about you…” she trailed off as the sentence caught a bit on her tongue. She masked it quickly with clearing her throat.

For a moment Branch shook his head, oblivious. “I’m more worried about how I’m going to look at the press conference on Monday, these cuts and swelling on my face is….wait-- what?”

He stopped in his tracks as her words registered.

“Fiancé?” he asked, confused. “Poppy. Poppy I don’t.. Clara’s not my fiancé. She’s my partner.”

Poppy rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she scoffed, “you wanna split hairs, Smarty Pants? Your partner, your soon-to-be Mrs Branch… “

“Poppy.”

“Your ‘happily ever after’..” she waved her hand, “I get it, I get it…”

“Clara’s my BUSINESS partner, Poppy.”

That stopped her. What?

“Your… your what?”

Branch sighed and scooted a little closer to her, his eyes meeting her confused ones.

“Clara is my business partner, Poppy. Or soon to be, rather. She’s getting inducted on Monday, hence the press conference and everything. She and I are going to be halving the advisory load. I needed to take a step back, and she was the perfect candidate to step up to the job.”

Poppy sat in stunned silence. A small smile started creeping over face as the realization sunk in.

He wasn’t engaged? Branch WASN’T engaged. Her chest started to bubble with excitement.

“I don’t know where you’re getting your twisted information from…” Branch said looking away, sounding a little concerned.

“Uh. That was uh… Creek actually,” Poppy winced as the name left her lips. Branch sucked in a sharp breath, nodding his head. It was slowly starting to add up.

“What else has he told you?”

Poppy was becoming uneasy now. Somehow she had a feeling that her bubble of reality was about to get popped into next week. She swallowed.

“He uh… he said that you stole his fiancé and left him broken hearted?”

She flinched as she saw a flicker of anger across Branch’s face. But he said nothing. He looked out over the nearby pond that was glistening under the moonlight.

After a long pause, he spoke.

“Creek and I went to Trollsbridge University together,” he began, keeping his voice even and his eyes out over the calm water. “College buddies, you could say. We were pretty tight. Then uh… many years later I made the disastrous decision of introducing him to my sister.”

“Your… sister?”

Branch ran his hands over his face and up through his hair again. He turned back to Poppy.

“He broke her heart,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. “Cheated on her with another woman after two years of dating. My sister was ready to marry him, if he would have asked. We all thought he was the real deal. But he dumped her cold. Like she meant nothing to him. That was over ten years ago and I can’t say that I’ve ever quite forgiven him. And yet, after all this time, he’s still managed to weasel his way into my life and hurt the… people… I care about.”

The last words fell quietly on his lips as his eyes locked with Poppy’s. Poppy’s brain was working overtime as she put the final pieces of the puzzle together.

“So, the punch you threw was….”

“For my sister, yeah.” He softly added, “…and for you.”

Poppy nodded quietly, swinging her legs against the bench. She looked down between them and noticed their hands were resting closely to each other. She breathed in and risked brushing her pinky finger over his. And her heart skipped a beat when his fingers moved and curled around hers. Their eyes met again. 

“So…” Branch said, clearing his throat. “I take it, based on the fact you are here, right now… you’re NOT with Creep?”

Poppy giggled at the name and shook her head quickly, biting her lip to contain her brewing excitement. She swore she saw Branch’s ears perk up as well.

“And…” Poppy went on, scooting considerably closer. “You’re NOT engaged to be married, then?”

Branch smiled and shook his head, his nose a mere inch from hers now.

“No,” he whispered back, his gaze trailing down to her lips. “Not.”

“You’re not some jack-ass that likes beating people up for no reason at all?” Her eyes sparkled in anticipation. Branch leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers.

“I happen to be a very good boy…” he murmured, as he closed the gap between them.

The instant their lips locked Branch let out a yelp and jolted back, hissing at pain from hair knows where. Poppy, realizing the mistake, clapped a hand over her mouth and muffled an apology.

“Oh hair, I didn’t think, I’m so sorry!! Are you--” but before she could finish, Branch was kissing her again, throwing his pain and injuries to the wind.

After a few minutes of lips and tongues flying, Poppy pulled away to catch her breath, holding Branch at arm’s length and narrowing her eyes at him.

“Wait a minute,” she held a finger to his mouth, taking a deliberate pause. “Good boys don’t kiss like that.”

Branch’s expression deadpanned and he grabbed her face between his hands.

“Like fudge they don’t, Poppy.”

And Poppy didn’t say another word as he pulled her in again.