How these two meet
The joke is that Virgo is the mum. It gets made at dinners, it gets made in front of other people, and it is genuinely funny because Sagittarius is genuinely funny, and Virgo has laughed every single time for six years.
Here is the Thursday version. Sagittarius books the flights wrong by a day. Virgo fixes it in eleven minutes on their phone while Sagittarius tells the room the story of having booked it wrong, and the room loves the story, and nobody in it knows the eleven minutes happened.
Mercury is on a short leash, never more than 27.8 degrees from the Sun, and turns back three times a year to cross ground it has already crossed. Jupiter needs 11.85 years for the twelve signs and spends about a year in each. One of you is doing the next eleven minutes. The other is genuinely, not carelessly, somewhere in the next eleven months.
So the joke keeps working, and the eleven minutes keep happening, and one of you is slowly becoming a character in the other one’s anecdotes.
For Virgo, the work is not fixing it. Once. Let the flights be wrong, let the day be lost, and say nothing about having chosen that.
For Sagittarius, the work is telling the version with the eleven minutes in it, in front of the same people.
And a third: the joke is doing a job. You both know which job, and neither of you wants it out in the open.
The question
Is the joke still funny to the person it is about?
One conscious action
the story, with the eleven minutes in it
Next time the running joke comes out, Sagittarius adds the part that gets edited: what it actually took, and who did it.
Virgo does not wave it away, does not say it was nothing, does not redirect. That is the harder half by a distance.
Mercury goes back over its own ground three times a year and Jupiter has not looked at the same ground twice in a decade, and one of those is being called reliable and the other one fun.
Who decided which of you was which, and was either of you in the room for it?