Double Vision

Jon was mesmerized by the swirling leaf green eyes and the sexiness of the soft husky voice in his ear. Her breath stirred the hair at his ear, and he shook his head at the tickle. He started to do what she told him to do, turning to head back to the house and go back to bed. But, suddenly he stopped. What in the hell was he doing?

He spun back around to face the women standing in his garden. "What the fuck is going on here? Why was I just about to go back to bed, when that's the last thing I want to do?"

Fiona looked at her sister silently asking for help, but Morganna only shrugged, clearly telling her younger sister that this was her problem to handle as she saw fit. Fiona turned back to Jon. "That is going to require an elaborate explanation."

Jon took in the woman's appearance; he still couldn't get over the fact that she seemed familiar to him somehow. She was tiny, only about five foot tall, with hair as black as night falling in gentle curls down to her small waist. She actually looked like she'd just stepped of the stage, wearing black leather pants and a black blouse with loose flowing sleeves that would allow for freedom of movement. Some would call it a peasant's blouse, but they always reminded him of a pirate's shirt. Her blouse was tucked into the pants, so that the leather was able to show off strong thighs; the pants were tucked into thigh high black leather boots with low heels. The porcelain of her skin shone in the moonlight. "Who are you?"

"My name is Fiona."

"Maybe what he should be asking is...what are you?" Morganna's voice tinkled with laughter.

His gaze came to rest on Morganna. At first glance, Jon thought they could be twins. This other woman was the same height and had a similar complexion and hair style and coloring that identified them as sisters. But on closer inspection, he noticed this other woman's eyes were violet instead of green, and faint lines crinkled at the corners. Her nose turned upwards just a little more than Fiona's, and she had a very light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her clothing was more old-fashioned than Fiona's, too. The long, sweeping gown she wore was the color of the harvest moon. It had long sleeves, a deep décolletage that showed off more freckles, and intricate embroidery decorating the hem. A black cloak was clasped at her throat with an ornate brooch. He could see her feet poking out from under the dress. Bare feet.

They were both gorgeous women, and normally he wouldn't be complaining about two beautiful women wanting to hang out in his garden, but something wasn't right about these two. He'd seen Fiona disappear then reappear, then he'd seen this other woman just appear out of nowhere.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he demanded again.

"Maybe we should go inside," Fiona suggested with a placating smile.

"Maybe I should call the police." There wasn't even a hint of a smile in his voice.

Morganna laughed, throwing her head back, and exposing the long, smooth column of her throat. Finally she sobered, realizing that both the other occupants of the garden were staring at her with derision. She held up her hand, as if to stave off their comments. "I'm not going to apologize for finding that extremely funny. Come on, child. You saw us blinking in. Do you really think we'll wait around for your enforcers to get here? And do you honestly think that you could make us wait?" She laughed again. "Your powers don't extend that far."

Jon blinked at the other woman. Did she just call him child? She was younger than him. "What do you mean by my 'powers'?"

Morganna saw no reason not to enlighten him. "Don't concern yourself with that now. Your powers don't extend to The Fey anyway. They have no effect on us."

The Fey? Where had he heard that phrase before? "What 'powers'?" Before he could get an answer, something clicked in his head, and he held up a hand. "Wait, wait, WAIT a damned minute. 'Fey'. You two. Fairies? As in steal-babies-and-substitute-changelings? As in tiny little creatures with pointed ears and wings?" He laughed derisively. "You two are obviously stoned, and maybe you're right, maybe I am dreaming. I'm going to dream you gone." He gave a little wave. "Bye now."

Fiona rolled her eyes and leaned forward to pinch Jon's forearm. Hard.

"Ow! What the fuck was that for?"

"You are not dreaming," Fiona answered. "And yes, we are fairies, though, the baby-stealing thing isn't us. That's more our brother's style."

Morganna smirked. "And as for tiny creatures with the wings and ears? Total myth," she said, "though all human myth does have some basis in fact. So, if that myth will make you feel better..."

Jon gasped as the tops of Morganna's ears lengthened, sticking up from her luxurious hair, and becoming pointy. Her clothes transformed to ragged loin-cloths, barely keeping her decent. Enormous, pale peach iridescent wings sprouted from her back. She shrunk down to the size of a bluebird and flew to sit on Fiona's shoulder. "There," she said in a voice that sounded like she had inhaled helium. "Better?"

"Oh, you showoff," Fiona said, exasperated. She brushed her sister off her shoulder, and Morganna retaliated by pulling her hair. Jon fought the smile that threatened to creep across his features. This was surreal and incredibly disturbing, but yet wildly entertaining. In a blink of an eye, Morganna was back to normal, standing next to her sister, and dressed once more in her long gown.

"Incredible," Jon murmured. "Now, what do you mean by my 'powers'?"

Fiona thought a moment before shaking her head. "Really, this is a conversation best suited for another time." She raised her hands and Jon felt a slight gentle pressure on his chest, urging him to step back. He held firm. Her voice dropped to a near whisper as she continued. "For when you are ready to hear the truth about yourself." She slowly walked – he would swear she floated – toward him and he was compelled to take matching steps backwards. "For when you are ready to accept the responsibility that goes along with your gifts," she breathed.

Jon suddenly found himself in his bedroom, not remembering making the decision to go there. He had to fight to keep his eyes open as he sat back on his bed and lay prone. "But –" he protested.

"Shhh," Fiona said, passing a hand across his face; almost but not quite touching him. "Sleep now."

When Jon's even breathing filled the room, Fiona went back outside to her sister. "We need a plan," Fiona said. "How the hell are we going to convince him he's a siren?"