Fairly Human

by Holly Fuhrmann

  Saying something nice? Why that didn't fit her mental image of him at all.

  "I think it's time to call it a night,” he said.

  "What time is it?” Blossom asked. She still hadn't gotten used to keeping time the way mortals did.

  "After eleven,” he said. “Time really flew tonight."

  "Yes, it tends to do that here.” Time was almost as elastic in the mortal world as it was in Fairyland. Expanding and contracting at will.

  She headed toward the door.

  "Hey, Blossom,” Rom called.

  "Yes?"

  "Wait up. I'll walk you out to your car."

  "I don't have a car,” she said, and hurried to the door.

  She didn't want him walking her out. Didn't want to spend another second with him.

  But she realized he was right behind her.

  "So how do you get home?” he asked.

  "I walk.” Walking after a practice was a great way to purge some of her annoyance before she got home and faced Myrtle's accusing looks. Her sister had given up complaining, and instead had opted to wear a mantle of one abused.

  She realized Rom was still right behind her.

  "It's not that far,” she assured him.

  She needed her solitary walk home more tonight than most nights.

  "This late at night? Are you crazy? I mean, anything could happen to you."

  Was that concern in his voice?

  No. She must be tired if she was imagining things like Rom being concerned for her.

  She almost chuckled at the absurdity of her thought.

  "Ah, and if something did, then you'd have to go hunt up a new Titania for the play, is that what you're thinking?” That was much more likely.

  "I'm thinking a beautiful woman like you should know better and have some common sense. You can't just go traipsing solo all over the city this late at night."

  "Seeing as I'm more than of age, I guess I can.” She started walking briskly down the street.

  Enough was enough. She needed to get away from Rom, to clear her mind.

  "Hold on, I'll walk you home,” he said jogging up behind her.

  "I don't think so."

  He grabbed her shoulder, not hard enough to hurt, but firmly enough to stop her in her tracks. “What do you mean, you don't think so?"

  "Listen, Rom, you may be able to boss me around on the stage, but in the real world, in my real life, I'm in charge. This is my first true taste of freedom, of doing things on my own, and I won't give it up for you, or anyone else."

  "Please."

  She expected him to bluster, to bully, or even to throw up his hands and tell her to do whatever she wanted, he didn't care. But saying please? That was unexpected.

  Rom Johnson wasn't the type of man who asked for anything.

  "Pardon?” she said, sure she'd heard him wrong.

  "I said, please. I'd like to walk you home."

  "Why?"

  Probably so he could go on nitpicking on how she played the role of Titania. How she did it wrong. How she'd never get it right.

  "Because, if I didn't, I'd worry about you all night."

  "I—"

  "I was walking anyway, and you're on the way,” he said.

  "How do you know I'm on the way?"

  "I asked around. Herbert said you live in an apartment over Glory's Chambers. I've eaten there now and again."

  He'd asked around.

  Asked about her?

  Blossom wasn't sure how that made her feel.

  Unsettled. Yeah. Unsettled.

  She'd been around Rom for two weeks, but tonight, there was something about him that left her feeling as if she wanted to run as far as she could, as fast as she could. She felt as if she wanted to be anywhere but where he was.

  "It's a cute place,” he said.

  Was that a compliment? “Thanks. My sisters and I helped renovate it."

  "And the apartment?"

  They were walking, Blossom realized. Walking down the street, next to each other. She wasn't sure how he'd managed it. She'd said no. She'd meant no. She didn't want him walking her home. And yet, he was.

  "Did you renovate the apartment as well?” he pressed.

  Was he really interested, or was he trying to start a conversation?

  "Well, it is a lot different than it was the first time we walked through the door.” There that wasn't a lie.

  "So you live with your sisters?"

  "Yes.” She paused. “Do you live with anyone?"

  "No. I'm on my own. I like it that way."

  "Don't you get lonely?” Blossom asked.

  Even now, even with this tiny slice of her life to call her own, she still saw her sisters every day. She still counted on them for a thousand little things. Even if it was just Myrtle moping around because Blossom had a secret.

  She depended on them. Needed them.

  To be all alone?

  "No. It seems I've lived most of my life on my own. I don't really fit in with my mother's people and don't know my father, so...” The sentence faded to a halt.

  Despite the fact she didn't like Rom, Blossom felt sorry for the lonely man. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up something painful."

  "It's not painful,” he said quickly ... too quickly.

  "Yes it is,” said a feminine voice.

  Fiona peeked around Rom and gave Blossom a little wave. “Yes, it is painful. He won't admit it, but it is. Rom Johnson has spent most of his life pushing people away. He doesn't know how to let anyone get close."

  Rom was silent, but he looked annoyed. Probably because he'd said too much. Blossom knew the feeling. She frequently let her mouth run away from her. “Listen, I—"

  "Look, here we are."

  Blossom realized they had reached Glory's. Again, time with Rom seemed to move at its own pace—a pace different than the rest of the mortal world's. “Well, thanks for walking me home."

  "You shouldn't be out walking by yourself. You never know what could happen. You're a beautiful woman, and that beauty could make a man forget himself and do this—"

  Suddenly, Blossom was in Rom's arms, and his lips were pressing against hers. Not just pressing. No. They were devouring hers, kissing her with an intensity she'd never experienced.

  Tasting.

  Testing.

  Probing.

  She was drowning in his kiss. Her body melting into his.

  And suddenly, it was over. He stepped away, as if kissing her repelled him.

  "Why did you do that? To teach me a lesson?"

  "The kiss you take is better than the one you give."

  "Don't you start quoting Shakespeare to me now, Rom Johnson. Answer my question. Why did you kiss me?"

  "Yeah, make him tell, Blossom, because I'd like to know, too.” Fiona looked as if she was about to burst with ... It wasn't annoyance, it looked more like pleasure.

  Blossom had been so flustered by Rom's kiss, she'd forgotten Fiona was flitting about. And despite the fact her little fairy godmother looked pleased, Blossom wasn't. Wasn't pleased at all. She was annoyed.

  "Why did you kiss me?” she repeated, trying to infuse all her annoyance into the question.

  "I don't know why,” Rom finally said. “But you can be sure, I won't let it happen again."

  "Well ... good."

  "Yeah. Good,” he repeated. “I've got to go."

  "Good night."

  He hurried off, down the block.

  "Well, now that was interesting,” Fiona said.

  "Don't you dare tell anyone.” Blossom warned.

  "Who would I tell?” she asked innocently. Much too innocently.

  "My sisters, your husband. Oh, I can think of any number of people you could share this with, and I'm telling you, don't do it."

  "Fine."

  "Your word of honor,” Blossom pressed.

  Fiona held up a hand and crossed her heart. “Fairy Scouts Honor."

  "Great. Now, I'm going in."

  "Are you
staying after and practicing tomorrow?” Fiona asked.

  "Not if I can help it. Imagine, he kissed me. I mean, no man's kissed me in...” She tried to remember when the last kiss was and drew a blank. “Well, in a very long time."

  "You seemed to like it."

  "I did not."

  "Yes. I think you did."

  "I—” Blossom decided to stop while she was ahead. “I have to get in now. Fern and Myrtle will be wondering what happened to me."

  "See you soon,” Fiona said as she faded.

  Suddenly, Blossom remembered something.

  "Hey, you were never a Fairy Scout,” she called, but Fiona had totally faded from sight, and the only response Blossom got was the soft sound of her laughter.

  Chapter Nine

  Fern

  Fern was glad she didn't work tomorrow. She didn't want to see Nico. Didn't want to think about him, though he seemed to be where her thoughts kept falling. She sat on the couch, gazing out the window, trying to force herself not to think about him.

  It didn't work.

  So she'd settle for simply being glad she didn't have to face him. After all, he'd kissed her. How did you face a man after something like that? Especially given his response. Rather than saying, “Thank you, Fern, that was wonderful. That was toe-tingling, stupendous,” he'd said, “Don't let it happen again."

  "As if,” she muttered.

  As if she'd want to kiss him.

  She didn't know him well, but what she knew she didn't particularly like. He was an overbearing, bellowing sort of man. Not the kind of guy she was looking for. Not at all.

  She wanted a kind, considerate man. No, not a man, a fairy. Yes. She might like humans, might even be a human for a few more months, but she'd never want a relationship with one. She'd fixed up enough human couples to know that they tended to make love hard ... too hard.

  Hard. Yep, Nico was a hard man, and Fern wasn't the least bit interested.

  Of course, Puffy had told her that Nico had moved away from home because of him. That was kind. Some might even say considerate.

  And he liked water and sunsets.

  That was unexpected.

  Not that it mattered to Fern. She didn't like Nico Starson, and never would.

  "What are you glaring at,” Myrtle asked as she came into the room and sat next to Fern on the couch.

  "I'm not glaring."

  "Sure you are. You're sitting there practically burning a hole out the window with your glare."

  "Myrtle, the only one glaring around here is you. You've been in a funk practically since we got here."

  Fern felt sorry for Myrtle.

  Her older, normally in-charge-of-everything sister seemed so lost, so alone. She wished she could do something to ease the adjustment for her sister, but knew that Myrtle was going to have to find her own way.

  "I have not been in a funk,” Myrtle said, but her tone didn't carry any weight of conviction. Myrtle was in a funk and knew it, even if she wasn't prepared to admit it.

  The front door opened and Blossom breezed in..

  "Oh,” she said when she spotted them sitting on the couch. “You're both still up."

  "And you're out late,” Myrtle said.

  No not just said, but accused. Or maybe scolded. Fern wasn't sure which, but she was sure from Blossom's expression that she didn't like Myrtle's tone.

  "You're not my mother,” Blossom pointed out.

  Myrtle rose and looked Blossom right in the eye. “No, but I've spent years taking care of you."

  Hands on her hips, Blossom faced her sister. “Maybe I don't need taken care of."

  Myrtle laughed. “Ha!"

  Blossom advanced. “Maybe you've spent all these years pretending to take care of me and Fern because you're afraid to live your life."

  "Blossom,” Fern said, jumping to her feet, hoping to get between the two and stop this fight. And it was going to be a fight. She could sense it.

  Blossom was hitting too close to home, and Myrtle wasn't ready to face whatever it was she was afraid of, at least not in such an in-your-face sort of way.

  "Don't Blossom me, Fern. You know I'm right. You and I have both found something productive and exciting to do while we're here. And Myrtle? Is she happy for us? Is she looking for something of her own? No. She sits here day after day, giving us those sad looks, as if we've broken her heart—"

  "Not broken my heart, broken the team. We've always been a team, working together, playing together. And that's all falling a part and that's what's breaking my heart. That we're falling apart."

  "Myrtle,” Fern said softly, taking her sister's hand. “Blossom and I, we've found things to do, things on our own. But that doesn't mean that we don't love you. We do. But maybe this time as humans gives us a chance to spread our wings, more of a chance than when we had wings, if you know what I mean. There's so much to do, so much to try. I loved working with you two all those years—"

  "Loved," Myrtle murmured. “Past tense. As if it's over. Is it over? Not just for now, but even once we're back to being fairies?” She sat back on the couch, as if the very idea of doing something without her sisters was too much to bear.

  Fern sat back down next to her and patted her hand. “I don't know,” she said honestly.

  She really didn't know. She loved her sisters and had loved working with them, but maybe it was time for something new, something of her own. Not just while she was human, but after she was a fairy again.

  Blossom sat down on the coffee table, facing them. “Myrtle, maybe it is. I don't know. I don't think Fern knows. I just know that things have changed. And I don't think all those changes are for the worse. But no matter what changes, no matter if we are still working together when this is over, or if we've all gone our separate ways—that doesn't matter. What does matter is that we'll always be sisters."

  "But it won't be the same if we're not together every day,” Myrtle said with a small sniff.

  Fern took her sister's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “Nothing ever stays the same. You know that. We all do. Things change. Even for fairies. Maybe it's time to think about what we want to do once we're fairies again. But no matter what, there's something that will never change. The way I feel for you two."

  Myrtle suddenly gave a huge sniff.

  "Now, don't you start crying,” Blossom said, her voice sounding watery. “Because if you do, I won't be able to tell you how much I love you both."

  Fern would have laughed if she wasn't so choked up. The three of them sat holding hands and crying like three crazy women.

  "I don't suppose you're going to tell us what you're doing?” Myrtle eventually asked Blossom.

  "No.” The tears stopped and a small chuckled replaced them.

  Before Fern could blink an eye, all three of them were laughing. Holding each other, laughing and suddenly connected again.

  Fern thought maybe more connected than they'd been in a long time.

  All those years, living in each other's back pockets, they'd shared so much, but right now, laughing with her sisters, Fern had never felt closer to them.

  Fiona blinked into the room.

  "What's going on?” she asked.

  Fern met Myrtle's, then Blossom eyes, then they all three turned to Fiona and laughed even harder.

  "Did I miss something?” Fiona asked.

  "No, no, you didn't miss a thing,” Fern managed to get out.

  No, Fiona hadn't missed anything, but maybe she and her sisters had.

  And maybe, just maybe, they were rediscovering it.

  * * * *

  Monday morning came earlier than it normally did. Or maybe it just felt earlier. It had been a long weekend.

  Fern had spent hours talking and laughing with her sisters. She'd told them about her job, something she'd avoided to date. She hadn't been able to stand Myrtle's sad looks. But now, her sister laughed about Puffy, and nettled at the thought of Nico's behavior.

  "Want us to help you take care of th
em?” both Myrtle and Blossom had offered.

  Fern smiled at the memory.

  She knew—she'd known all along—that even if she was going her own way, her sisters were still there for her. All she had to do was ask.

  She'd told them everything about her job ... Well, everything but the kiss.

  It wasn't as if she was really keeping a secret. After all, the kiss was just a fluke. Nico didn't even like her.

  A fluke.

  An accident.

  Yep. He'd accidentally kissed her.

  And of course, she'd only kissed him back to be polite.

  After all, it would have been rude to just stand there, stone-cold and let the man slobber all over her.

  Not that his kiss had been slobbery.

  Oh, no.

  It had been perfect.

  Or at least it would have been perfect, if it had been from some other man.

  She was just going to forget it ever happened.

  She got ready for work and kept nudging the thoughts of that kiss to the back of her mind. It didn't seem to want to stay put and kept creeping back out, causing her to flush with the warmth of it.

  Darn that Nico Starson.

  What did he think he was doing? Kissing her?

  She entered the Les Magik kitchen, ready for ... Well, ready for whatever Nico dished out.

  The one thing she'd make sure he wasn't dishing was kisses. No way did she want his lips on hers again.

  Just think of the complications. She was a fairy. Okay, right now she was a human, but only for a while, and then she'd be a fairy again. Mixed romances never worked.

  Not that Nico had mentioned romance.

  Not that he'd mentioned anything.

  Nope, he'd just kissed her and then had the nerve to act as if it were her fault.

  "As if,” she grumbled, as she tossed her stuff in the closet and slammed the door.

  "As if what?” asked Puffy.

  "What?” Fern asked.

  "You said, as if. And I said, as if what?"

  "As if ... I'd let a gloomy spring day get to me. We're going to do something bright, something wild today."

  "Like what?"

  "A new dessert."

  "What do I do first?” he asked.

  Fern smiled at the slight man. “Get me some Hershey Kisses."

  Puffy ran to the store and was back before Fern had scarcely gotten started.