Work Text:
Ed was bored.
When he was new out of the box, a Limited Edition Blackbeard Super Mop, he took pride in his appearance and his job. He wasn’t like other mops, he was cool. Sleek ergonomic wood design made out of the finest Brazilian cherry wood decorated with black patterns, yarn made out of super soft black advanced technology fibres. Cutting edge technology but still designed to give classic mop vibes. Nothing else in the house could come close to cleaning a floor the way Ed could. It was thrilling. Every time he was taken out, he’d get excited about what task he’d be executing that day.
But eventually it all became a bit the same. Over and over and over again. No fucking drama, no fucking life.
The years took their toll on him as well. He’d injured himself at the point where his handle met his head one time when someone had been overly enthusiastic about mopping a corner, and had to be taped a bit. If he didn’t have his brace on, he wobbled. His handle lost its shine, became dull and roughened, but at least the designs were still present. He liked the big snake that wound its way down most of his length the best. And of course, after years of mopping and bleaching, his once glorious mane had become more grey than black.
He wasn’t Blackbeard. More like Greybeard or Salt-and-Pepper Beard. Personally he preferred to call himself Ed.
Eventually the time came when the people who had bought him decided to sell the apartment. They moved and took all their belongings, except Ed. Whether they just forgot him in the cupboard or deliberately left him, he would never know.
If he was getting bored of life before, now it was unbearable. He had nothing to do but sit with himself and his thoughts.
It didn’t take too long until some new people moved in, bringing all their things with them. Including their own mop.
Ed couldn’t blame them for what happened next, not really. Who’d want a washed up second hand mop that they found in a cupboard anyway? Though he didn’t expect to get thrown off the rooftop of the apartment building during a drunken housewarming party.
As he sailed through the air, he prepared himself for the harsh clattering on the street below. He’d probably break, definitely at his weak spot. But at least belly flopping onto the pavement was kind of a cool way to go. Better than being munched up in a garbage truck.
He felt a tug on his hair (oh, that felt good!) and the impact never came.
Taking stock of his surroundings, he realised that he’d ended up in the tree that grew outside the building. His yarn had gotten caught by one of the branches. At least it was a change of scenery?
“Hello!” A voice startled Ed.
“Who the fuck said that?” Ed replied.
“Oh, sorry, I’m Stede! The tree!” The tree said. “And you’re that Blackbeard mop from 13B?”
“You’ve heard of me?” Ed asked.
“I’ve seen you. I have a great view through that lounge room window from my top branches.”
“Huh.” Ed wondered if humans knew that the trees were watching them.
“I’m excited to properly meet you.” Stede continued. “I’ve been an admirer of your work for years! And now Blackbeard is here! In my branches!”
“It’s just Ed, mate,” Ed mumbled. “And I’m nothing special, not anymore.”
“Nonsense!” Stede exclaimed. “Look at you, you’re breathtaking!”
Mops can’t blush, but if they could Ed would have.
The next few days were some of the best Ed had ever experienced. Hearing the birds and the sounds of the city, getting some fresh air. But most of all, hanging out (heh) with Stede. They just passed the time so well together.
Until one morning, Ed heard someone down below saying “we had better call the council, get that mop out of that tree.”
Ed panicked. Take him away from Stede? His best friend? Dare he say it, the tree he was falling in love with?
Ed and Stede were quiet that day. Both of them fretting about being torn apart. They wished they could do something, but what could they do? They were a mop and tree.
That evening, as they watched what they assumed would be their last sunset together, a man stopped at the base of Stede and looked up at where Ed was… he no longer thought of it as caught, but more lovingly embraced in Stede’s branches. The moon was full, so they could both clearly see the man, who stood there for a long time.
“Don’t ye worry laddies,” the man eventually said. “I willna let them separate ye.”
The man made some strange trilling noises, and then two birds fluttered down from the sky. One landed on his head, and the other on his shoulder. They seemed to be engaged in some intense conversation that Ed couldn’t quite make out.
The birds flew away, and the man gave a satisfied nod and walked off.
Eventually Stede broke the silence. “I’m sorry Ed, I wish I could keep you forever.”
“It’s okay mate,” Ed mumbled. “No one wants a shitty mop ruining the neighbourhood aesthetics.”
“But you’re beautiful!” Stede sounded like he was holding back tears. Could trees cry? “Ed, oh Ed! I love everything about you! I love being near you. It’s nice, feels good. Breathing the same air–”
Stede was cut off by some bird calls. The two birds from before had returned, carrying some twigs and grasses in their beak. They settled on the branch where Ed’s hair was.
“Hey!” Ed yelped, as the birds started arranging his strands. What were they doing? Were they going to try and release Ed? Fly away with him? That would be a fate worse than death, being separated from Stede like that. Because Ed loved Stede, and a love like theirs can’t disappear. They were literally and emotionally joined to each other, Ed’s strands intertwined in Stede’s branch.
“Ed! You’re panicking!” Stede’s voice broke Ed from his thought spiral.
“I’m not panicking! Alright?” Ed tried to put on a brave voice, spare Stede from as much of the heartache as he could. “And here’s the news, I’m leaving.”
“What?” Stede sounded like he’d been slapped. How hard does a tree need to be slapped to feel it, Ed wondered.
“The birds are untangling me, they’re going to take me away.”
“Oh Ed, seriously–” Ed didn’t want to hear Stede trying to make it better.
“It’s for the best. Trees and mops are nothing alike.” Ed’s heart was breaking. Metaphorical heart, because mops did not have internal organs.
“Ed, no, look! They aren’t untangling you.” Stede said softly. “They’re making a nest.”
“They’re what now?” Ed turned his attention back towards the birds and noticed that indeed, they had been carefully weaving the twigs and grasses together with his strands, the beginnings of a nest forming.
“Ed don’t you see? These birds are a very rare species. If they are making their nest here, using you, the council can’t take you away! They have to preserve their habitat!”
“We… we’re not going to be separated?” Ed could scarcely believe it. Having a couple of birds living in his hair might be a bit strange, but he would gladly accept it if it meant getting to be with Stede.
“No! And this is wonderful, because I love birds! I’ve always wanted birds to come and live with me… well, with us. I hope they bring some friends.”
“We could run a little bird motel,” Ed said, wishing he could physically smile. “Jeff’s Inn By The Street.”
“Who’s Jeff?” Stede asked.
“I just think Jeff’s a cool name,” Ed admitted.
“So, I guess we’re inn keepers then?” Stede asked.
“Yeah, let’s give it a go… unless you’re having second thoughts?” This was a big commitment for Stede, having to open his branches to tenants to be able to stay with Ed.
“I’m not, no.” Stede’s voice was full of warmth and happiness.
And Ed knew he was home.
If either Ed or Stede could understand birds, they would have heard their new residents talking about them. “Can you believe these two saps?” Karl chirped to Olivia. “Buttons owes us big time.”