In For a Penny...

Once they all had steaming coffee cups in hand, Jon suggested they move to the den for the ‘explanation portion of the program’. Fiona had laughed lightly at his words, but Morganna had frowned slightly at him, not understanding the joke. Jon had smiled hearing Fiona’s tinkling laughter, biding his time until he could rattle the little fairy again. Some people would consider him crazy for thinking of what happened in his bedroom earlier as a mark in the win column, but he’d always been one to think outside the box. Next time he wouldn’t hesitate.

The furniture in the den was arranged in a squared off ‘U’ shape, obviously chosen for comfort not necessarily style. Two chocolate brown leather love seats sat facing each other, while a matching sofa made up the bottom of the ‘U’. A large square coffee table sat in the center. Jon sat down on the sofa facing the open end where Fiona now stood preparing to give her ‘presentation’. After sitting his coffee cup down on the table, Richie plopped down on the love seat on Jon’s right.

A slight smile curled Fiona’s lips over the seating. Apparently, it was a habit for Richie to be on Jon’s right. She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders, even as her sister took a seat across from Richie. Fiona had spent the whole night trying to come up with the right words to explain what the men needed to know. She hoped she was ready.

Taking a deep breath, she began. “Let’s start with your powers. I’ve already explained how it affects mortals. It has no effect at all on Fey. Lucie and his demon minions are different. My brother is very powerful. He can use his powers from a far enough distance to be able to avoid your power. His minions, however, will have to get in close. Your voices will slow them down, make their movements sluggish. Part of them will try to resist you, while the other part of them will want to listen and obey, but only if you sing your commands.”

“Music calms the savage beast,” Richie commented.

“Exactly,” Fiona exclaimed, her smile lighting up her whole face. “Only these ‘beasts’ will know that you are attempting to control them and will fight it. But, causing them to move in almost slow motion will give us the time needed to defeat an army with just the four of us.”

“Wait. Whoa!” Jon leaned forward on the sofa, bracing his elbows on his knees. “An army? Just the four of us? You’re out of your mind, woman!”

Morganna seemed to take offense at his words. “You doubt our abilities? I can assure you that my sister and I are quite capable.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, and Richie’s earring glittered prettily.

There was not even time for a look to pass between the sisters before a remote went flying straight at Fiona’s head. It never made it. With just a slight squinting of her eyes, the television remote burst into a zillion pieces, scattering to all four corners of the room. Before all the pieces could even settle, the stereo remote went flying straight at Jon. He fell back on the sofa trying to avoid it, but that was unnecessary. It, too, was zapped with just a squinting of Fiona’s eyes, showering Jon in little plastic pieces.

“Hey!” Jon was all righteous male indignation. After all, he who holds the remote rules the world. “I needed those!”

In a blink of an eye, and with just a snap of Fiona’s fingers the two remotes were once again resting in their place on the table in front of Jon.

Richie grinned. “Before you decide to zap him too, let me assure you, it’s not you ladies that my friend is doubting.”

Fiona was the one that seemed to be offended by that. She seemed to take it as a personal insult. “What?! How could ya doot yurself now, mon? Ya ne’er have afore.” She jabbed one finger in Jon’s direction. “In fact, yur one a tha most cocky men I’ve e’er had the misfortune ta meet.”

Jon’s eyebrows arched high and a smirk flirted with the corner of his mouth, but not at the Irish in her tone. Richie laughed out loud at the look on his friend’s face, correctly interpreting Jon’s thoughts. He had found her choice of words amusing. Richie couldn’t let that one go. “No, Fee. You don’t mind if I call you Fee, do you?” He continued without waiting for a response. “I’m probably the most ‘cocky’ man you’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.” Then he fell back on the love seat laughing at his own joke, not even sobering when he realized he was the only one laughing. That little fact just made him laugh harder.

“You’re always thinking with your dick,” Jon said, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes.

“You’re the one that brought it up,” Richie defended, still laughing.

Morganna had started blushing the moment Richie’s words had left his mouth, even while he was rolling with laughter. Fiona stood clueless, not getting the joke, until her sister looked her dead in the eye. Just a slight widening of Morganna’s eyes was all it took for the light bulb to finally come on, then she too was blushing and blustering.

While the silent communication went on between the sisters, the men continued. “No, actually, I think it was Fiona that brought it up,” Jon pointed out, stressing the last three words.

Richie’s dream from earlier flitted through his mind, and a wicked little grin curved his lips as his eyes met Morganna’s. “No, that’s you. It was Anna that ‘brought it up’.”

“Enough!” Morganna said, rising from the couch. She slowly made her way toward her sister, trying to get her color under control. “Can we please be serious?”

Richie smiled. “I’m always serious about my—”

“I SAID ENOUGH!” Morganna shouted, before Richie could finish his sentence. Her sister giggled. Morganna never raised her voice in anger.

“Oh, come on, Anna,” Richie said chuckling. “It’s just a little harmless flir—”

Morganna whirled toward the men; an angry blush tinting her cheeks; her violet eyes shooting sparks. Literally.

“Uh, oh,” Fiona said under her breath, barely containing a smile. “You’re twistin’ hay now.”

Richie was mesmerized by a seriously pissed off Morganna. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her furious beauty. She reached up to touch the earring Richie had given her, and he felt a mild tingling low in his belly. Not lust, exactly, but something more uncomfortable. He looked at her, almost believing that she was purposefully making him feel the slight burn. He just as quickly dismissed the notion. Jon, however, saw just how pissed off she was, saw Richie’s slight wince of discomfort, and tried to play peacemaker before things got out of control.

“Morganna, he didn’t mean – ” Jon’s apology on Richie’s behalf was interrupted by an unladylike snort and a pointed look from Fiona. He sighed. “Okay, he did mean it, but really, he didn’t intend to make you angry.”

“Calm yourself, sister,” Fiona said softly. “Remember, you are here to help me, not Lucie.”

As quickly as Morganna’s anger came up, it dissolved, shimmering visibly in the room. Richie’s insides calmed, and he looked at her, shocked. “You, you were trying to HURT me?”

Morganna shook her head. “If I were trying, you’d be hurt,” she said. “I am sorry to have used magic against you, but you have to understand that this is no joking matter.”

“And you have to understand that jokes are a defense mechanism for some men,” Richie retorted. “You don’t think that this all isn’t a little fucking daunting?” He rose from the loveseat and crossed the room, standing toe to toe with Morganna. “Well it is,” he said, practically shouting in her face. “This is so fucking out there it’s nearly unbelievable. The devil and demons. Sorceresses. Fairies.”

“Fey,” Fiona said absently, though Richie didn’t seem to hear her.

“Rich, man,” Jon warned, but Richie waved him off.

“It is so fucking beyond – words can’t describe. So excuse the piss out of me if I crack a joke once in a while to break the fucking tension!”

“Are you through?” Morganna asked quietly.

“Lady, I’m not even getting started yet,” Richie answered. “How the fuck did you do that to me. What were you doing?”

“I was trying to get your attention,” Morganna answered, contritely. She really did feel badly for letting her temper get the best of her.

“Well, you fucking well have it now,” Richie said, still shouting.

Morganna lightly fingered the earring again, and Richie felt an overwhelming sense of calm. He felt his heart rate returning to normal. He was still angry, but even that was fading. Then he realized what she was doing.

“Stop that!” he said, indignant at being manipulated. Morganna quickly dropped her hand from her ear. Richie put two and two together fairly quickly. “You’re using my earring as a what? As a, a, a, conduit or something?”

“Something like that,” Morganna admitted. “It allows me to concentrate on you; to connect to you.”

Richie held out his hand. “Give it back to me,” he said.

Morganna just shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I won’t. I need it to help protect you. It will aid me in casting spells to assist you if you need it.”

Richie’s hand wavered. “Cast spells? Jesus, does it get any more fucked up than this?” he asked. He dropped his hand to his side and went back to his seat. “Fine, whatever.” He picked up his coffee mug and frowned into it before taking a deep pull.

Jon looked from Richie to Morganna, and finally to Fiona. “So, Fee, do you cast spells too?”

Fiona shook her head. “No. Anna is the apprentice. She is the caster.”

“About that,” Morganna said, looking hesitatingly at Richie before turning to fully face Jon. “I need something from you as well; something that has been close to you for a long time. Something to help me connect to you if you need help.”

Jon slid his eyes toward Richie who had groaned and let his head drop back on the sofa. “Don’t do it, man,” Richie said, his eyes closed.

Morganna sat beside Jon. “I swear on my existence that I will not do anything to harm you or Richard.”

“Again,” Richie said. “You mean, ‘harm Richard again’.”

“Fine, ‘again’. I do need something of yours, and I can’t steal it; you have to give it willingly for it to have power to help protect you.”

“What do you want?” Jon asked. “I have a box full of jewelry upstairs, but nothing really personal, I guess. Jon shifted on the couch, and Fiona watched the play of muscles in his chest when he moved. His arms bunched and released as he ran a hand through his hair while he thought.

His arms.

“Jon,” Fiona started. “What about Superman?”

Jon shook his head. “If you’ve been with me my whole life, you know I don’t have that anymore,” he said, referring to his pendant.

“Not that,” Fiona answered, going to him. She raised the sleeve of his t-shirt, exposing his tattoo. “This.”

“What?” Jon asked. “Give her my tattoo?” He laughed. “I prefer not to give a pound of flesh for the cause until strictly necessary, thank you very much,” he said.

“No,” Morganna said, “it’s perfect, and you won’t even know it’s gone.”

Jon looked at her skeptically, then turned to look at Richie. “Rich?”

“Don’t ask me, man,” Richie answered. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around all this shit.”

Jon looked at Morganna. “Alright,” he said decisively, though he was anything but sure.

Morganna rolled up her sleeve and pressed the inside of her wrist to his shoulder. She closed her eyes, and Jon saw her lips move, though he couldn’t hear what she was saying. A moment later, Morganna sat back, and Jon stared in amazement at the tattoo on her arm.

“That’s amazing!” Jon declared. He grabbed her arm without thinking, and didn’t see her narrowing eyes. “A perfect copy, down to the faded ink.” He chuckled. “Damn, it’s time to get it touched up.” He dropped Morganna’s hand and looked at his own arm, and his eyes widened. He looked at the would-be sorceress.

“Aye,” Morganna said simply. “’Tis no copy.”

“Fuck me,” Jon said, half under his breath, rubbing his arm.

“You didn’t feel that, did you?” Morganna asked.

“No,” Jon said, “but I feel it missing just the same. It’s.... well....” He shook his head. “I’m going to get it back, right?” he asked.

Morganna smiled and nodded. “Aye, if we do our jobs right, you will get it back.”

“If you do your jobs right?” Richie asked, drawing everyone’s attention. He was more than half afraid of the response.

“Aye,” Morganna said again. “For I cannot yet work magic on the dead.”

Jon’s head whipped around to look into Fiona’s eyes. “Dead?”

She nodded, but said fiercely, “Aye. But don’t concern yourself with that. You will not die. Not on my watch.”