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Part One
Can I get a little light on the subject?
“What thehellhaveyoudone?”
“What haveIdone? What the hell haveyoudone? This isyourworld, I’m just an innocent bystander – a visitor, Sweetheart.”
"Oh, my Great Goddess, don’t eventhinkabout shoveling that load of Dragon crap my way, Michael Alexander Archer! Just don’t do it. It’s been a really bad day. I mean colossally bad and just ‘cause…”
"It's Mick, dammit. My name is Mick, my beloved one and only Mate that I love with all my heart. Mick. Not Michael. Not Dick. Not Asshole. Mick. M-I-C-K. Andyouknow it.”
“I love you, too, but that does not…”
“Hang on, I’m not finished.” The sound of a single boot heel scuffing the ground sounded from somewhere to my left as my dazzling Dragon continued to bitch. “It reminds me of my mom, and you know, better than even the Goddess herself, that Ineverwant to think ofthatwoman. Not ever again for as long as I live. She and Big Daddy are poison. Rotten to the core. They are…”
“Yes, Honey, I understand, but…”
“Please, Vi, I’m almost done,” he huffed, his irritation taking the form of a loving Magical bop to the back of the head. “I mean, I love you. I have always loved you, and I always will. For the first moment I saw you, Violet Elizabeth Brown, you have been the beat of my heart, the light of my soul, the most gorgeous and amazing woman in the whole wide world that was made just for me, but I just cannot stand it when…"
"Okay, my turn,” I cut in, lettingmyexasperated Magic lead the way. After all, turnaboutisfair play and all’s fair in love and war.
(FYI – this was love.)
“The fact that you came all the way to the Kingdom of Love sitting on the one and only Cloud Nine clear on the other side of the whole dadgum Realm to see me - to be with little oldmeafter so many years was wonderful. I mean, seriously amazing and I love ya’ for it more than I already did. But just ‘cause I adore you more than all the chocolate covered cherries in the whole wide world and I can't see the nose on my face don’t think for one minute that Iwon’tzap your scaly ass from here to the shores of the Isle of Skye and back again. This is your mess. I’m just sure of it. Something you did or somebody you pissed off has taken their revenge and thrown us into… umm, I mean, tossed you, me, and Bernie into…”
“You know it wasn’t me, Violet. I’ve not been back long enough to piss anybody off.”
Ignoring his rebuttal, my arms flew in every direction as I spun around trying to see something –anything- in the pitch-black darkness, I was on a roll. There was just no stopping. There was a point to be made, and dammit, I was gonna make it. As my Granny used to say,“Vi could have an argument in an empty elevator.”
(As I’m sure you can imagine, that used to piss me off. But after about a century or two, I got over it. It’s not like I was ever going to zip my lips or the Old Lady, as we affectionately called her, was ever gonna hush. Now, that I’m older and a bit wiser, I consider my ability to talk my way out of any situation or blab until the other guy just gets tired and gives up – my Superpower.
Yes, I’m a Witch – a Brown Witch to be exact. One of the strongest of the strongest, the best of the best. But so are all my cousins, so in our Family Magic is like buttholes – everybody’s got one. So, as you can imagine, I was forced to find my own special way to stand out. Long story short – or long story longer, as the case may be – Talking is my Superpower. Okay, enough of that. Back to the story…)
“Umm, well, crap, Mick, I don’t know where we are, but that doesn’t matter. I will goose that sexy ass of yours, Dragon Man. You know I will. As soon as I figure out where we are and who you smarted off to, it’ll just take the tiniest twitch of my pinky fingers and you’re gonna be hootin’ and hollerin’ just like that time…”
“You. Will. Not.”
“Oh yes, I will. Just as soon as I can see where we are, I swear I'm gonna Magick us right back to my little white cottage with candy-apple red shutters and pretty pink roses growing in the flower boxes and we're gonna sit down and have one helluva long talk. And for the love of all the little hearts tattooed on all the little butts of all the little Cherubs in the whole damned world would you,puhleaseget your big, ole, Dragon hand off my ass. It’s not that I don’t…”
“That’s not my hand.”
“…like when you touch me.You, ofallpeople,knowhowverymuch I love when you touch me. But do you really think now is the time? And do I need to remind you what happens when you piss off a Brown Witch? Specifically,this Brown Witch. I swear to all the rosebuds on all the bushes all over Cloud Ni…WHAT?! What did you say? That's not your…?"
Jumping straight into the air as if I’d been shot out of a cannon, I started spinning around on my toes like some demented ballerina on a sugar high after rapidly ingesting one-hundred-and-fifty-three-thousand pixie sticks. But that wasn’t enough. I could still feel whatever it was tickling my bodaciously awesome booty.
It was warm and huge, and Goddess help me, it was moving…
Hopping around like a Great Horned Toad on catnip, my arms flung hither and yon in directions no one’s arms have ever flapped in the history of forever. I mean, I’m not even sure they were supposed to move like that – but they damned sure did.
(Thank the Goddess for Magic and the flexibility of being part of the Supernatural Community.)
Shrieking and screeching, I finally got my flying appendages under control, wrapped them around my wonderfully curvaceous physique, and began slappingbothcheeks of my perfectly proportioned behind to the tune of Dueling Banjos like they were on fire.
(And, yes, for your edification, I was still screaming like my cousin, Birdie, the Banshee and talking faster than an auctioneer at the Rockefeller’s estate sale.)
“Who is it? What is it? Who’s touching me?What’stouching me? Great Goddess in go-go boots, get it the hell off of me! Is it a spider? It better not be a spider, Mick. I hate those little sons of bitches. Oh shoot, oh shit, oh schnickeys, is it a scorpion? Please, please, please, tell me it’s not a scorpion. I know they’re poisonous. No! no! No-no-no-no-noooooo! What if it’s aspiorpion?! They're ten times as poisonous as anything else anywhere in the whole damned world. I mean, we may not still be on Earth, but please tell me it's not a spiorpion. I read about those nasty little buggers in National Geographic. They are soooooooo poisonous and they hate Witches. I just know they hate Witches. The article didn't say they hate Witches, but I'm somehow sure my ancestors pissed off one of their ancestors - it's just what those old girls did - and now the eight-legged freaks with pinchers and antennae and a venomous stinger poking out of their butts – are out for blood. My blood! My blood, Mick! What if...?"
And that’s when my wonderful, fantastic, sometimes might need a smack to the back of the head Mate responded with all the care and concern of a man wanting to calm his Witch down, keep his cool, always be the hero, and most of all, get his facts straight…
