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Realistic or Modern Spellbound

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There would be no knowing just what Theo would have done that day. If ever Willow were to witness the kind of rogue that vivacious Russian could be, perhaps she could guess. There was no doubt, given his profession, that children would be high on the list of his priorities for care. Right up there with Willow herself.

“Damn straight, I expect anyone gettin’ with you to know how to throw a punch.” Molly would have given a sharp nod if not for Daisy rushing her hands through her tresses.

“Aw, that's sweet.” Miss Daisy cooed. “Been friends long, huh? I can tell.”

“Since the summer before sixth grade.” Molly caught herself, remembering the woman handling Willow’s hair. “But yeah, so, I expect Theo to be quite protective. I can’t imagine he’d step down to just about any scum if they came for you Willow.” Molly offered in confidence and emphasis for the present company. Satisfied that the point was made, Molly decided not to speak anymore on their personal details. Somehow it felt like giving away information to a spy.

The thought came in metaphorical jest but stayed with Molly in unexplainable dread. They needed to not talk. Not about them anymore. Something about it felt dangerous. Molly engaged Miss Daisy instead, dodging personal questions and delved into the life of her beautician.

Miss Daisy-Lou McCoy is a descendant of the very same Hatflieds and McCoys. They long since have made up, though the history books seem to gloss over that part, but they do joke and tease each other about the past. People from both sides have intermarried. A real life Montague and Capulet situation. Now they meet for reunions.

To Molly’s relief it was easy to get involved in the personal life of Miss Daisy. Crossover talk with Mrs. Nguyen was few and far between. They learned she was a part of some neighborhood grandma group who met every Sunday for yoga. It began with a session for catch-up where the women brought everyone up to speed about their week. Then it was yoga time. After that they enjoyed refreshments and unstructured conversations. By the end of it they were all ready to head home. It usually lasted about three hours.

That was about all Molly heard or knew. Mostly she tried not to let the old lady in their conversations. Main reason being she kept trying to ask about Willow. Molly could just feel the inquiry on the tip of the crone's tongue: Where do you work? Where do you live? Just how far away is your family?

Nope! Nope, nope, nope! Molly made sure those were neither asked nor answered, directly nor inadvertently. By the time they were done Molly felt like she was riding high on a cloud. She nearly looked smug when she handed over twenty bucks for the both of them. Hair, nails, and even a bit of complimentary perfume. Molly felt like she got paid to give the old woman a whole lot of zip. Nada. Nothin’.

After giving Miss Daisy a hug and thank you, Molly looped her arm with Willow.

“Have good day.” Mrs. Nguyen’s eye twitched, but her mouth turned up. Or rather, curled.

“Oh honey, you have a good day.” Molly smirked. She tossed her curls and turned with her friend, ready to go find those bargains. And lookin’ like devil’s candy while doing it.
 
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Fortunate for Molly's unannounced nerves, Willow wasn't in much of a talkative mood at that point in time. She'd much rather listen to the friendly chatter between Daisy and Molly, amused by just how chipper they both were. Hardly knowing her, it felt like the salon worker was practically an old chum they didn't even know. Who would have thought they'd be so fortunate to run into this salon on their day out?

Taking Molly's hand as they exited sometime later, she felt like a million bucks, and dare she say, she looked like it too. It was only a minuscule dent in the amount they had made their first week of working, making it all that much better. "That was heavenly," she announced as they were heading back into the strum of people once more. "Next time you're letting me pay; no butts about it! Maybe we can make it a monthly thing and head in, especially at that steal."

They had a couple more hours of shopping in them, no doubt. After that it'd be a coin toss as to who's apartment they retreated to - more likely Willow's since there wasn't a demon chihuahua to interrupt their peaceful night. It felt like the best way to end a week or start one, depending on how one looked at it. "That rose looks gorgeous in you. Micha's going to lose himself when he sees you tomorrow."
 
The farther they got away from Fancy Nail and Hair the lighter Molly felt. “Oh yes, definitely.” Molly nodded to the comparison to heavenly. Especially now they weren’t near that old woman.

Molly tried to argue about payment but got nowhere, “Alright, you have it your way.” She smiled. “But not at Fancy Nail and Hair.” She said. “We’ve already used up the new customer discount anyway.” Molly would have joked about going in disguise, but she kept it to herself. She wanted nothing to do with that place. “Maybe slightly closer to home too. We did drive a good half hour to get here.” She pointed out.

The anticipation of another session of shopping helped take Molly’s mind off of the recent mysterious scare. She smiled at her reflection in the store windows, “Yeah, rose does well with my shade of brown.” A man or two briefly turned their eyes their way as they walked down the hall of the Mall. “If I’d been told this day would come when I would look this good, I’d have never believed it. I still need to keep an eye on my wily brow.” Molly chuckled. “Maybe I should test Micha’s resolve and grow the old caterpillar out.” Then she beamed at Willow and curled an end of her friend's hair, “But man, I can’t wait for Theo to see these sexy bangs. I bet he’ll have to catch his breath!” Molly said as they walked into Ross.
 
The decision not to return was met with a huff. "She's like 90 years old, I doubt she's going to realize we've been there before," she tried to argue, although something told her Daisy had a keen memory still on her. "Fine, somewhere closer. But if we get anything less than a 50% discount we'll have to probably skip part of the pampering. Maybe just a monthly pedicure or manicure?" They weren't making that much money to dye their hair every month, especially if they both planned on saving up to relocate from their current buildings.

Arm in arm they were nearly skipping down the halls. Who knew that a new hairdo and extra self care could have you feeling like you were walking on clouds? "Oh, psh don't act like you had a complete make-over. It was a bit of color, but you're always beautiful Molly!" If her friend needed a bit of a boost, she'd offer her shoulders to stand on. "That's just the glow of a woman who's pushing off potential love. Trying to pluck him like he's your brow, not going to get you far! Let it grow out, get bold and stop shaving, I promise he won't go anywhere."

Wandering over to a rack but sticking near Molly, she started thumbing through the wares once more. "That poor man has to work with me for twelve hours a day, I'm pretty sure he will hardly be breathless to see me again," she brushed her off, apparently unable to take her own advice. " I might have to hope he can even recognize me without an apron on."
 
Molly grinned impishly, “Alright I will.” She resolved. “I’m going to become a yeti. And if attentive Micha suddenly finds more interest in cooking than winkin’ at me, I’ll consider a date with the man.” Molly raised a finger. “But, if he gets negative about my hair, I won’t. No matter how sweet he talks.”

It was settled. Molly decided not to check her brow tonight. It would take time for it to get bushy. The follicles of pulled hair needed a while to start up again. Molly figured her unibrow would be at its full glory by the night of the contest in which Willow and Theo would participate. Checking the date Molly marked it in her Google calendar: November twenty fifth, twenty-seventeen. That would be a good cut off date.

Hearing Willow brush off Molly’s predictions had the Belle scoff, “I’m sure that man has thought of you without an apron on-- and probably a lot less!” Molly wiggled her brows and smirked. “And I bet you have too! Don’t lie to me, I know it! Look at those red cheeks. All I gotta do is say his name and you won’t need to spend a cent more on blush, Willow Mae Crosse.”
 
It seemed like a somewhat unfair bet, at least for poor Micha. The amount of time that boy spent ogling at her, it was impossible for him not to notice if she suddenly let her hair grow free. May the odds be in his favor that he either keeps it to himself or finds it to be an endearing trait. Or who knew, maybe Russians viewed a good unibrow like wide hips; ideal for a good mate. "I still don't think it gets to be that noticeable," she tried to reassure her friends. Sure, they might go bushy and get a bit close, but it wasn't as though they were thick enough to draw attention from a far distance.

Molly knew her too well, cheeks blazing at the implied thought and those damn wiggling brows. "Aren't best friends supposed to make sure you don't do things like launching yourself at a guy? No matter how ridiculously hot and enticing they are," she said, trying to scold her but failing quite miserably. It was true just mention of her rugged Russian had her up in arms, although whether or not she'd had such stimulating thoughts would be kept to herself..and Theo, should such a topic come up. "Aren't you supposed to be shopping anyways? Maybe for a nice little something for your Russian boy?"
 
It occured to Molly right then that she had been unusually encouraging. Normally Molly herself had a skeptical, suspicious eye on anyone sniffin’ ‘round her besty. Even when Willow called her about that amazing date with the elusive Lord Wesley Cromwell. Molly had listened and geeked out with Willow when she called, certainly, and followed up with dutiful questions about him to gauge if she approved. So far Willow’s report of the suave rich boy eased Molly’s initial worries. It didn’t matter too much though, they never got together.

But this Russian man. Woo!

Reflecting a moment on it, Molly thought back to when she first stepped into the Pub. The initial rush of fear and trembling had gone when the last interview came and left. But come to think of it, she never got these vibes from the people with whom they spoke. In fact, Molly couldn’t think of any bad vibes at all. Opposite, really. A sense of security and warmth came over her when she saw and interacted with Theo. Over her, through her, and right toward Willow. Molly never was one to fantasize about soul mates. Not at all. But something told her Theo was good. Why should some other girl get him? Molly would see to it that her best friend, who was the sister she claimed by bond over blood, had at least the chance with him.

“Ha ha, you know, I think you’re right.” Molly surrendered. “I don’t know, I think. . .I trust him. All of them. At least so far.” She chuckled at the last thing Willow said, “Challenge accepted. And if he does end up being a good boy, it will be a treat.” She grinned, enjoying how easy and fun it was to mess with Willow.

Molly had a run of boys. It was hard to explain, but Molly thought of it like when you turn eighteen and you can’t be held to a curfew, you are no longer obliged to eat this or that, you could be friends with anyone no matter the tattoos or body piercings. You had been caged all your life and now you had nearly unlimited sky to fly. Call it failure of parentage to instill sensibility, call it misbehaving with undisciplined power, but Molly took flight into that blue sky right out of Mercer High School when college started in Seabrooke, and kept flying, storm or not, blizzard or not. Sure, she got a few scrapes, a not-so-secret tattoo on her back, and brow piercing. There were some things Willow didn’t know about. Not because Molly wouldn’t tell her if they came up, but that she herself wasn’t so proud of her reckless behavior. Nothing life-threatening, but she did think if she had stayed a subway worker by that old bar during her schooling, she figured she wouldn’t recognize herself. Maybe that was part of why she didn’t contact Willow as often. Not that she didn’t have the time, but that she didn’t want Willow to worry about her for all the clubbing and motorcycle racing at midnight.

It had been her mother’s illness that brought her to her senses. Brought her back to the nest where she found appreciation in the little things. Mrs. Malone, a simple French tutor, soon passed away. With her death Molly folded her wild wings to take a more careful approach to a practical future. School took on a bigger role. When Sykes came by to see what his on-and-off flame was doing for the weekend, she had been ready to throw down if he gave her lip about not coming to their shindigs. Thankfully he took a hint.

That was all behind her now. Molly had a brighter future. One where she had a sister and maybe a good guy. It took time, but Molly believed she got used to listening to her vibes. Micha did not have the same hard edge she was used to, and honestly had an attraction to, but he was good. And perhaps that made her feel unworthy.
 
Despite the other answering in a more sincere tone, Willow decided to keep things light between them. They were having a fun-filled afternoon of just the girls, meaning there was going to be plenty of talk of boys, no doubt. "Oh good you trust him," she nodded, lips pulling back into a smirk, "And trust apparently translates into undressing. Should I warn Micha or we just let him go into cardiac arrest when he sees the Southern Belle he's going to manage to land himself?"

The banter could go on for hours, and who knew maybe it would. Still, she didn't forget their purpose in the store by any means. Several blouses were snatched up that were a steal, along with a couple heels that were too good to pass up on and a pair of shorts ("No, not because Theo asked! I needed a new pair..") all found their way to her arms. It was a good start on freshening up her closet, and without too much of a strain on her wallet. The number of bags grew while the stack of cash thinned, signaling they needed to start wrapping their spree up.

"Okay, face masks, popcorn, M&Ms, flaming hot Cheetos. Anything else we need to get?" she rattled off their lists. The two were quite consistent in their movie indulgences, and it seemed like that night wouldn't be an exception. "Also, what are we thinking for a movie? You know I won't turn down a Rom-Com, but there's also been some pretty good dramas out lately."
 
Indeed, Molly found it the easiest thing to do, talking to Willow. She had a lot to say and play off of when Willow mentioned trust and undressing. “If he survives the heart attack, I’ll put that down as points for good genes.” Molly had said, and said much more during their shopping.

By the end of their time in the store, Molly proudly owned several new outfits. Fashion of yesteryear, yes, but lovely nonetheless. And on top of it all she took home two of last years eye-catching bathing suits for when summer started again, plus that treat she spoke of if all worked out with Micha. If not, maybe some other guy.


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Molly said, “I’m definitely bringing ingredients for breakfast. Texas toast, whipped cream, strawberries, sausage, and fresh veggies for an omelette.” While Amalia didn’t have a taste for Texan, Molly certainly did. Out of all the camp food she knew, she had one or two recipes in her head set aside for occasions like this. “And whatever you need for what you’re going to bake tomorrow. It will be a fun morning! Cookin’ for the park, listening to music while we prep, and I’ll just swing by a gas station for a couple jugs of juice for the park.” As for the movie, Molly hummed in thought, “I don’t think we did our ‘My Big Fat Greek Wedding’ 1 and 2 back-to-back marathon. We could also watch the Twilight series. There’s also Leap Year. Did you see Leap Year? That was pretty good. Not sure I am too interested in this years romcoms though.”
 
She hadn't even thought of getting groceries for the next day, although the picnic had certainly been on her mind. The talk of strawberries and whipped cream gave her an idea, one that would be even easier than baking, while keeping a sweet southern spin on thing. "Oh, you know what? That actually gives me a great idea," she said as the strode side by side through the thinning crowds. "I saw the quaintest thing the other day scrolling online. Strawberry shortcakes you put in little mason jars. Makes them easy to transport and looks super cute. We could bring those too - or would that be too much?"

This was the first time she'd been invited to anything of the nature, if she was being honest. At least to something like this where it wasn't her parents and their country club, old boys from home constituents. Whether or not it would be too much to show up with their arms laden was only going to be found out once they showed up tomorrow otherwise.. "Maybe we should ask? I'm sure Theo or Micha could tell us what we should bring?"
 
Molly mouthed a silent praise, her lips rounding to an ‘O’. She nodded as they walked into the grocery store, “That sounds yummy, honey.” She agreed. “I don’t think we have to ask. They’ll be happy with whatever we bring I think.” Molly said as they walked towards the appropriate isles. “But maybe not jars. They’re heavy and could break if dropped. What about somethin’ like--” Molly’s eyes bounced around the isle, “--this?” She pulled up a stack of clear punch cups, with rose-gold rims.

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“We can secure them in a cardboard box with high walls, a couple inches above the deserts, and stretch plastic wrap over it to keep them fresh. We may even be able to stick that box in an old cooler I have, to keep them from getting overheated.” Molly squeaked and bunched her shoulders, “Oh they’ll be so cute! And we can see the layers too.”
 
"Oh those would be adorable!" Willow agreed, grabbing a bag of a dozen and adding it to the hand-held basket she was carrying. "It'll work perfect. A sweet little treat that has fruit so you can pretend it's healthy. My favorite kind of lying to myself." Continuing down the aisles, they scooped up the various groceries they'd need as well as their snacks for movie night. Well, what they had planned on having.

A whiff from the deli caught her attention and her stomach let out a gurgle of protest.Lunch had been quite sometime ago, and shopping worked up an appetite after burning a fair amount of calories. "So, popcorn might not be enough. Pizza or takeout, because I don't feel like cooking tonight," she said, adding with a factual, "And this will be my treat this weekend, so feel free to get whatever you think tops this day of immature splurging."
 
Everything was coming together. Molly readily agreed with Willow. And besides, they ate healthy hearty Russian food as a staple now. A night or a day eating junk wouldn’t kill her anymore than when she ate it all the time. Seeing a Reese’s Pieces, Molly added that to the stash.

“Mmm, yeah. I think you’re right.” Molly had been feeling peckish at Ross. They were about to head home soon, so they might as well eat now and be free to slather mud on their faces. It was easier to do without needing to navigate the sludge while putting food in your mouth. “Alright, I give.” Molly agreed to Willow spotting for dinner. “Hm, damn I haven’t had pizza in so long. Let’s do that!”

The two walked up to the tiny shoppette. “I’ll have to go to Guido’s one day.” Molly grinned, remembering Willow mention it. But Papa Pizza would have to do for now she said, “Pepperoni and onions. Also, a large root beer.”
 
Willow finished up her shopping and followed suit checking out as the two chatted away. This had been quite a good day as far as Sundays went. Arms fully loaded with bags the found the small pizzeria calling their names with the wonderful smell of marinara sauce.

"Ooof girl, you are killing me with the onions. But I love you so I'll take one for the team," she decided with a smirk. Heading inside they were subjected to a short line of patrons ahead of them. Stepping in, she shifted her weight side to side as she glanced up at the menu. "Ohh, or we can just do single slices and you can get whatever abomination you'd like and I can settle for a cheesy garlic slice. That sounds like it'll hit the spot."

Behind them, the soft jingle of the bell hoisted above the door sounded again. A wrinkled and worn woman gradually inched her way into the establishment, hunched over and shaking as she supported herself on a carved cane. Her struggle made the bell sway again, catching Willow's attention, quickly moving to hold the door open for her.

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"Oh, thanking you dears," she said with a tired smile. Age made her voice creak but it was a familiar Russian accent, her th- coming across with a zs- sound and the cadence they heard day in and day out. Willow couldn't say it was a face she recalled from the Old Bear, but she certainly wouldn't have stood out from their normal groups of babushkas that gathered.

"Of course! Would you like to go ahead of us?" The offer was given as a kind gesture, hoping that putting a slightly larger space between Molly and food wasn't going to end poorly. "We haven't quite decided yet." The greyed woman gave her a gappy smile and nodded, inching her way that much closer in line, all the while leaning on the cane with her entire body.
 
“Pfft, my onion breath is no match for your garlic breath” Molly teased.

At the ring of the bell Molly was still staring at the pizza being made. It was only when she heard Willow talking about someone skippin’ line that she puckered her lips and tilted them to the side, ready to argue the point when she turned and saw the old lady. Molly felt a sweet, gentleness come over her. The irritation from moments before was replaced with an eager heart to please. Molly figured Willow mader her soft in a lot of ways. On any day before she met her friend, odds are she might have opened the door, even given her seat, but Molly had to admit that skipping ahead would probably not have happened. No offense to the old, of course. As it was, Willow would be happy to do it, and Molly decided this wasn’t a fight she could pick without upsetting everyone.

Molly’s expression looked like someone smiling through pain as the person ahead cleared off and the old woman took her position where Willow and Molly may have been standing had she not. They were so close. Molly’s belly grumbled. She turned to Willow, absentmindedly placing a hand on her stomach. “I could do with half and half. That way we get our favs and still have more than a slice.” Although Molly had a body strong like a proud General’s son, she ate like a pig. Molly had won eating contests before. But due to an incident when she barfed up pie she stayed away from events that featured food heavy in sugar.
 
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Willow was much more willing to wait a few minutes for the sake of manners. Sure, she was getting pretty famished at that point, but it wasn't like either of them would be passing out in the short time it'd take the little old woman to place her order. They'd have full bellies shortly later and a clear conscious, something she was quite keen on keeping. She nudged into Molly with her shoulder, knowing the poor girls love-love relationship with food that she was keeping her slightly delayed from.

"Alright, half and half," she agreed, eyes skipping over the menu and offered toppings. A four cheese garlic pizza sounded fabulous right then, but she also didn't want to cause a hassle trying to get a mixed sauce pizza. Those workers behind the counter likely loathed anyone who was trying to go out of their way for super specialized orders, dealing with a lot for minimum wage no doubt. "So half Pepperoni and onions, and for my half I want pineapple and black olives."
 
Pineapple. Had Molly never met Willow, she may have kept the opinion that only psycho’s ordered pineapple on their pizza. Occasionally Molly enjoyed teasing Willow about it. But on the other hand, it did help bring some humanity to Willow. A flaw or two was permitted for how kind her nature was, adding a little savory to the sweet.

When their turn came up they were met by a teenybopper. Her black eyes brightened and her smile was far from forced, “Welcome to Papa Pizza! My name’s Ruby McCormik, how may I help you?”

“Ugh, full name, what a drag.” Molly muttered in sympathy for the girl.

“Oh it’s alright.” Ruby giggled.

Molly thought she was just a cutie-patooti, “Well honey, if you say so.” She chuckled. “We want half pepperoni and onion, and half olives and devils food-- I mean, pineapple.” Molly winked at Willow. “She’s payin’.” Clearly all in good fun, the staff shared in the mirth.

Their round faced clerk rang up the bill, “Ten nine-teen please.” She exchanged Willow a receipt for cash and coins. “It will be ready in fifteen minutes. Let us know if you need anything else.”

“Thanks, doll.” Molly squinted a smile. She thought it was adorable to see teens working weekends. They weren’t always the best. To be honest, Molly has had it out with some of the rude ones. But over all they were just hard workers trying to get on in a rough world.

Once they got their cheesy melty goodness they ate there to enjoy hot food and not having to clean up a mess. Molly and Willow managed to lug their swag to the Accord. Although it was autumn it had sat in the Texas sun long enough to warrant A/C for some of the ride back home. Molly decided to stay over at Willow’s apartment. For one, Zika wouldn’t be there. For two, neither would any crows, hopefully. Molly left most of her stuff in her car and helped Willow up with hers. All she took into the apartment was what she needed for the next day.

“Your number fell again.” Molly chuckled, picking it up. “Do you want me to nail it in properly?”
 
Molly Malone could have whatever opinions about pizza toppings she wanted, anything was better than onions. Particularly onions with pepperoni! They were getting too far up there in age for indulgences like that; it was just asking for heartburn. Besides, there wasn't a single thing wrong with pineapple and it was offset by the saltiness of the olives, or so she would justify if validation were to arise. Again.

"Devils food," she scoffed, the rest of her sentence quite incoherent as she clearly disagreed with her dear friends opinion. Thankfully, she still loved and adored her, so they could have their differences. She provided cash to pay, passing off on the six cents back that she didn't want to tote around and maybe someone else would find they needed.

Before long they were heading into her apartment, doing the fun sideways shuffle with full arms as Molly drug behind, always after that damn number. "It's fine. If people don't know it's the right apartment no one but you can bother me," she brushed it off. Surely she had a hammer and replacement nail somewhere, should she find the time and motivation to get around to it. In the meantime, it could teeter, totter and fall to the ground as often as it wanted.

Groceries were quickly tucked away as needed to be refrigerated or placed out of the way and her wares from their spree were set in the bedroom beside the closet, to be put away eventually. For now, it was to the beaten up sofa with the bag containing their snacks and mud masks. "Alright, so we never fully decided on a movie. If you want a reprieve from rom-coms I hear that Kidnap is supposed to be pretty great. That one with Halle Berry in it."
 
Knowing sleep wasn’t going to be long after the movie, Molly changed into a big loose shirt and shorts. Then she washed her face with hot water in the sink before coming barefoot to the couch.

While Molly loved her hair she couldn’t abide it getting sticky. So she pulled what hair hadn’t been tied up and wrapped it around the existing bun, securing it with an elastic tie. Molly picked up the cucumber mint mud-mask she chose and tore the edge of the flat plastic pouch.

“Oh that sounds fun.” Molly agreed, tilting her head back slightly to keep the sludge from falling off as she smeared it evenly. “I just love Halle Berry. Although, I think she didn’t fit her role as Storm in that one X-Men series. Stars, Storm was supposed to be straight out of Africa; accent and all.”

Other than that she loved all those movies. Marvel, DC. Specifically Batman and Wonder Woman from DC. Molly had been so excited to see Wonder Woman in theatres. She even dressed up in full rented costume and yelled ‘WOO!’ at the end. Arms up an all. Not a single judging eye had deterred her. And the people joining in the good fun only encouraged her.

Molly popped the chip bag open. “Ooo, and it’s on Netflix.” She said between crunches.
 
Willow took a page out of Molly's book to get herself ready for the ultimate relaxation and girls night. Swapping jeans for pajama pants and ridding herself of the true devils work that caused constant strain on her shoulders, she soon felt ready for a movie mud mask night. Sinking down on the couch beside Molly, she set to work on lathering up her own face, enjoying the weighted feeling even if she couldn't explain why.

"I'll take your word for it," she grinned, wiping her hands clean on a worn out towel. She enjoyed all those superhero movies, like most their age seemed to, but she definitely lacked the knowledge beyond the movies that her friend had. She could give a few quotes she loved or rank the Avengers by their hottness (Hawkeye was dead last, even below the Hulk, simply because there was just too much similarity between him and Everest to find him attractive on any level) but she could never point out where the movies deviated from their original story lines.

Starting up the movie it didn't last long, quickly getting paused. "Popcorn!" she half sung, jumping up from her seat and running over to pop a couple bags; might as well not have to get up in the middle, after all. As the sporadic explosions sounded in the microwave, she stood in the short walkway between kitchen and living space, trying hard not to touch her face. A large, lumpy object tucked behind the sofa and carefully balanced against the corner wall caught her attention. "I think I might bring my cello next Friday," she said, clearly pondering aloud.
 
A face like a green ghost peered over the top of the couch. “Oh yah! Do it!” Molly encouraged her. “Man, I can just imagine that man's voice with yours and that instrument. You could do a proper rendition of Stand By Me.” She suggested as she fanned her face. Molly’s patience for waiting on the clay to dry varied in strength. “It’s too bad I can’t play anything.” She had wanted to learn. Tried it out too. But you can only hurt the ears and the soul of your music teacher so much before you accepted reality. Molly couldn’t sing or play. But, at least she could dance. Free form, waltz, salsa, silver-step, Molly had it all down. An obsession that began in ninth grade. “Do you want help bringing it in to the Pub? Maybe Theo can lug it. Unless you want to make it a surprise. I can help bring it in when you’re ready to play it.”
 
Both bags were soon full of hot air and buttery goodness, toted back to the couch with Willow. "I think it should be fine if I just leave it in the backseat of the Accord, don't you? It's not like it's a sketchy neighborhood or anything," she commented as she let the wonderful aroma float out of one bag while the steam escaped. She was also confident that most people wouldn't see the large black case and be able to assume it was worth a pretty penny to snatch it up and try to pawn it off. On a couple of occasions she had considered doing just that when her wallet was thinned all the way out, but thankfully never ended up having to.

"I don't know how much of a surprise I can make it since it's about as large as I am," she pointed out, making herself a handful that was a mix of popcorn and M&Ms before throwing her head back and tossing the mixture in her mouth. Once it was chewed up and swallowed, she continued on. "I also have no idea what I'll play. I haven't practiced in a few months, maybe longer." She had no doubt she'd be rusty to say the least, which meant she didn't want to subject him to a creaky duet. Likely to her neighbors dismay, that meant she'd be practicing in the evening hours once she was home, at least for half an hour a day, she promised herself.

Reaching about, she found the remote and started the movie once more. The two had a bit of tendency to talk during movies, although it wasn't met with hostility, save for a few crucial scenes that deserved the utmost respect of their favorites. "We've got time to figure it out. That or back out still!"
 
Cleaning off her fingers, Molly pulled over her popcorn bag to breath in the scent before digging in for the hot puffs. “Yeah should be fine.” She nodded, agreeing the chance for theft was low. As for the size, Molly shrugged, “Well, if I distract Theo with something you could probably bring it in with Amalia’s help.” Molly perked, “Oh my gosh, just how romantic would that be though? Stars, just think of the lights going dim and then he hears you playing, and then he turns around and sees you on stage!” Dreamy eyed Molly sighed as she shoveled another hand of popcorn in her mouth. “So friggin’ cute.” The muffled words became clearer as the food was swallowed. “And honey, I am sure you’ll dive right back into the groove. Besides, a mistake or two won’t be a big deal.” She pulled a flannel blanket over her legs and cradled her popcorn in it like a Joey in a his Kangaroo mama’s pouch. “True, you got time to back out, but for how long? I mean, now that I know, I must see it done, honey bun. Now or later, it will happen.” Molly winked, settling in for the rest of the movie.
 
It was a bit romantic, she would agree with her on that, especially when she went all the way with the idea and made it seem like some big climatic scene from a romantic movie or novel that she'd happily indulge in. Perhaps that meant it was too over the top? Say what Molly wanted, she would reserve the right to back out if it got too complicated or if she overthought it, the latter of which was much more likely to happen at this rate. "We'll see," was the only satisfaction she'd give her, too excited to dive into her own snacks along with the movie.

An hour and a half of high-speed mini van chases and the most aggressive display of a mama bear protecting her cub later, the two had managed to get through a large amount of their snacks. Even if it wasn't horribly late, they had a jam-packed day between a partial shift at the pub and then a ridiculous amount of shopping and spoiling. Feeling fully refresh after their masks were peeled and scrubbed away, the two resigned to bed, each getting about half of the full-sized mattress. "When I move out, the next place is going to be big enough for a king," Willow muttered as she lay on the verge of sleep. "I don't even care if I'm not using most of it, I want one of those big damn fancy ones."

Monday, September 25th, 2017
Morning came, but neither body seemed overly keen on the idea of moving. Willow hadn't shared a bed with another body in a considerable amount of time, meaning there were a few unintentional kicks and punches thrown at her impromptu roommate, hopefully none hard enough to leave any marks. Awakening, she opted to make a beeline to the bathroom to handle her human necessities before Molly would want to do the same. Coming out of the shower, she felt like a million bucks, still feeling the wonderful afterglow from the day priors pampering. Donning the light brown dress and feeling quite confident in how she looked, she came out of the bathroom, fiddling with the tie in the front. "Shower's open if you want it," she called toward the bedroom.
 
Far from her apartment, Molly figured she was the safest she had been in a long time. The only drawback being her gun still sat in its code-locked case in her closet. Her father had said to get one for the car too. While Molly knew that would be a good idea, it was also an expensive idea. But after seeing Halle Berry protecting her child, Molly felt an urgency inside to do it. Soon. She didn’t say anything about the thought though. Guns and shooting and all that were fine on screens when you knew the ending had to be at least hopeful. Well, for most movies. Not for real life. Not when the bullet to the head gave you no guarantees of some miraculous revival in the last twenty minutes of a character your sure should have died. Molly was sure that wasn’t the kind of talk Willow wanted to hear anyway.

In bed, Molly agreed with Willow, “Yeah, I hear yah, honey.” She squished the flat pillow between her arm and head. “And pillows so fluffy, you could suffocate in them. And so silky they can be used as a makeshift slide!” Molly chuckled.

Falling asleep next to someone wasn’t difficult. Usually. Molly forgot that Willow’s body had an uncanny knack for acting in opposition to her waking sweet nature. The first time Molly woke up she felt the press of Willow’s elbow in her shoulder. The next time she realized Willow had wiggled her half off the bed. The last time Molly felt a thump against her head. Slowly she opened one eye and felt the other being smothered by Willow's hand. Molly had half a sleeping mind to bite the fingers of her greatest friend. Willow was lucky Molly felt the call of nature.

Slipping off the bed, Molly made her way to the bathroom. It didn’t take long to handle her business. When she got out she happily felt the drowsiness of sleep still brewing in her head. Unhappily, that vanished along with Molly’s sense of security when she saw the shadow of a bird cast over the sheets of the bed. Slowly Molly turned her eyes to the window. From where Molly stood, she couldn't see outside.

The street light glowed brightly through the clear glass. But Molly was sure they had pulled the curtains shut. Well, whether they did or not, Molly couldn’t handle sleeping with them open. She gathered up her courage and bolted toward the window, outstretching both hands to grab the curtains at either side when she halted in surprise.

Perched on a branch, with an eye into their room, sat a large black bird with a big black beak. Not a small-bodied one, with devious little eyes. And this time Molly did not sense dread.

“A raven.” Molly murmured in wonder. More for the lack of fear than anything else. In fact, she felt kind of cozy. Like an old friend was guarding them. A smile twitched upon her face. Molly slowly let go of the curtains. She knew it was silly. But for some odd reason, Molly decided to give it a little wave. If she wasn’t sleepy, she’d have sworn it bobbed its head in response.

Molly meandered back to the bed and used some blankets and extra pillows to shield her from Willow’s sleep-kung-fu. By morning she felt a little unrested, but not a bit worried. The sound of Willow’s voice announcing the shower being available motivated her to get up. Molly went in for a nice scrub down. Then she dried off, dressed in one of the bargain outfits she bought and put on a light bit of makeup, did her hair by making two braids that ended in low buns.

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“Time for breakfast!” Molly hopped on into the kitchen to get the supplies for strawberry-topped french toast, omelets, and sausage. "You want orange juice?"
 

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