Bahaha, this is most definitely brotp but it’s hilarious. Idiots.
“What is this?” Finn demanded, snarling at Russell, interrupting the light conversation between him and Sara.
Russell examined it for a moment in mock puzzlement before telling her sardonically, “Yep, no, I’m pretty sure it’s a hat, Finn.”
“I can see it’s a hat.” She told him, irritably, growling, “It has ears.”
“Well I’ll be damned, so it-“ he began in amazement.
She whacked him with it.
“We have been through this, I am not dressing up as an elf again.”
“It’s one hat, Jules!”
“No, no it is a symbol for, for your annoyance and my continued humiliation.”
“You know that will forever be one of my favourite Christmas stories,” he began nostalgically, eyes dancing, “that time you drank so much tequila that-“
“Sara does not need to here this story.” Finn snapped, cutting him off and glaring at him with a look that promised murder if he didn’t stop.
“Sara’s pretty sure she does.” Sara smirked, crossing her arms and innocently sipping at her tea.
“Well Sara’s not going to ask if she knows what’s good for her,” Finn said, turning to smirk at her. Sara raised her arms in mock surrender, winking.
“Jules would you just, please-“ he tried desperately
“No.” She told him flatly, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I said please.” He told her sweetly
“I heard you, it’s still no.” She deadpanned
“What if I ask nicely?” he offered.
“Not even if you ask very nicely, and offer me a pay raise, which I am well due by the way.” She told him, pointing at him irritably.
“OK, so, I have plane to catch.” Sara said quickly, “I’m just going to leave you to it.” Sara said, hastily abandoning her tea and fleeing the room before world war three broke out.
She smirked as they both growled, “Bye,” without so much as glancing at her. She shook her head and slipped out of the room.
“What’s in this for you?” she demanded, suddenly sly, raising an eyebrow and watching him carefully.
“The delight of having you in an adorable-“ he began, smiling whimsically at her.
“Lies.” She cut across him, narrowing her eyes at him, “Who promised you what for this?” she asked, before widening her eyes and hissing, “Henry.”
“Henry?” Russell asked, feigning ignorance.
“You’re a terrible liar,” she informed him flatly, “And Henry is the only other person who knows the original story…”
“You told him?” he demanded, incredulously.
“In my defence,” she began, raising a hand in protest, “I was on a lot of very strong painkillers and the only thing he could find in the gift shop were elf-shaped chocolates. One thing led to another…” he chuckled until she glared at him, abruptly shutting him up, “I want half.” She told him.
“Half?” he said, “Let’s be reasonable here, Jules-“
“And I want your share of Barbara’s mince pies on Christmas day.”
“That, Finn, come on-“ he spluttered,
She smirked broadly, “Take it or leave it, I know what this is worth, and it’s more than money and mince pies. Your pride is on the line here.”
“Damn you.” He growled
She cackled, “This is what you get for trying to spice up Christmas parties.”
“I usually don’t have to try too hard with you in attendance.”
She elbowed him in the ribs, “Do we have a deal?” she demanded.
“We have a deal.” He mumbled unhappily.
“Excellent,” she smirked, jamming the hat on her head and wandering off to join the party.