A/N : This is my first MBS fanfic, and I really didn't think about posting these poems on here. When I first read the books, I finished the poems that Constance wrote, that were mentioned in the books, and then forgot about them. I made my FFn account about 6 months later, and then thought about posting them here! I really hope that you enjoy this, and remember that the words marked are taken from the book!
Disclaimer : I don't own The Mysterious Benedict Society. (Why do I even have to write this? Isn't the fact that it's on FFn enough of a disclaimer?)
Constance Contraire, age six(-and-three-quarters), was digging around in her very messy room. It was very late, but she had something to find. As she kept searching in rushed, hurried motions, Constance couldn't help but wish for the old days of The Mysterious Benedict Society to come back, so that Kate would have had the room sparkling clean, and easy to navigate.
Number Two, (or as Constance called her, Pencilla) had long since given up on trying in vain to keep the room neat and orderly. Constance never minded, since she was not the one to care much on her surroundings being neat, but still frowned as the box she was finding refused to come into view.
"When did I last take it out?" she wondered out loud. She checked the clock and saw that it was thirty minutes to midnight. She would have to go to bed soon, she didn't want to be tired tomorrow. For the first time in quite a few months, the Mysterious Benedict Society would be meeting in Constance's room again. All four of them, Reynie, Kate, Sticky, and Constance herself would be celebrating her seventh birthday. She would have to visit Mr. Curtain after they left, but at the prospect of having a party with her oldest and closest friends, she had not complained quite as much as she normally would have. Three years had passed since they had defeated Mr. Curtain and The Whisperer, and everything was peaceful.
Even though Reynie was just on the first floor, Kate's room only a few minutes away, and Sticky just across the street, they rarely got together and talked again like they used to. Kate, Reynie, and Sticky were in high school now, and while Reynie would finish his homework easily and have a lot more time for relaxing with Constance, Kate was struggling to maintain a B average. Constnce shuddered to think about when she would have to endure high school. Although she did suppose that she would get top marks in the English literature and composition classes.
Just when she decided to go to sleep and search for it the next day, Constance spotted the box hidden behind a pile of dirty laundry. She snatched it up and placed it beside her bed, and soon went to sleep, her face showing a content smile of anticipation.
"Constance!" Kate Weatherall called. She banged into the room and almost immediently tripped over a cluster of pencils, "Wake up!"
Constance blearily blinked open her eyes, as she woke up. She looked down to see a bouncing blond, blue-eyed, teenager smiling down at her. "What?" she asked grumpily.
Kate grinned, "Still the same today, aren't you Connie-girl? Thought you'd be a little less grumpy on your birthday!" Constance saw that Kate had on the usual jeans and shirt, but had thrown a jacket because of the cold weather. She had tied her hair up into a ponytail so it would not get in her way. Her red bucket was, as always, hanging from her hand, even after three years of not needing it. She wondered what Kate's friends at her school would think about it, then realized that Kate wouldn't care. Kate never cared what others thought about her, and she had Reynie and Sticky at school. They had most certainly come to respect the bucket, as it had saved all of their lives on at least one occasion.
"You would be grumpy too if you were woken up like that," Constance grumbled, but she felt slightly more cheerful as she saw Kate. She slowly got up and started to get ready for the day.
Kate grinned, "Moocho's baking the pies," she informed Constance as she burrowed around a stack of crumpled papers for a matching pair of socks, "and Sticky might be here in a few minutes." Kate looked around the room. The towering piles of dirty laundry, pens and pencils lying around, a lot of candy wrappers, and even more pieces of paper with half written poems on them. She frowned, "Maybe I should help you clean up a bit?"
Constance rolled her eyes. Kate took it as a yes, and started whirling around the room like a very talkative tornado.
"It was not this messy when I came up here the other day, what did you do? Have a tamper tantrum? You are getting a little old for them now," she said thoughtfully, "You're going to go into second grade soon."
Constance did not want to be reminded that she was growing up, which sounded ridiculous, even to her, because it was her birthday. She quickly changed the subject, "Well, I guess I should wear something warm, since it's going to be snowing today in the afternoon."
Kate nodded, the sky outside was a cloudless, grayish-blue, but she knew that Constance's prediction would come true. They all had long since gotten used to the predictions for the weather. No one ever turned on the Weather Channel. "Excellent," Kate said happily, "we can have a snowball fight!"
"Aren't you supposed to be studying for that history quiz?" Constance asked, finally finishing the bottom button of her sweater.
Kate shrugged, "I can do that tomorrow, and Reynie can help me. What are we going to do for your party? Play games? Or just eat pies?"
Constance shook her head, "I don't know."
Kate sighed as she adjusted a coat rack absentmindedly, "It's your birthday. Surely you thought of something exciting to do!"
"I had an idea," Constance trailed, "in fact, I think that Reynie and Sticky will like it."
"What?" Kate asked curiously.
"Remember when we all just met for the first time?" Constance asked, and Kate nodded. "I wrote a lot of poems, and Pencilla's been saving them for me in this little box," she pointed at the box. "I found this yesterday, and thought that we could go through it and stuff."
Kate looked around the clean room, her blue eyes sparkling, "That's a great idea! Let's go and get Reynie!"
Then, hastily taking Constance's hand, she rushed out of the room.
A few minutes later, the doorbell rang.
My chapters are usually longer than this, but since this isn't a story, it's just a collection of poems written by Constance, I decided to just give the general setting and finish it there. I'm sorry, but there are not going to be any parings in the story, because I don't think that Kate and Reynie are really that right for each other, much less Kate and Sticky. I actually think that Reynie would be (personality wise) better with Constance, but she's way too young for him, so, NO parings!
Tell me what you think about this fic, I will take flamers, but constructive criticism is the best in my opinion. Oh, and I take compliments really well too. Haha.
I'm editing the chapter~ and clearing up all the typos and things... I'm sorry I haven't been updating, but I've got writer's block...