So I spent a long time toying with this one, and I think I'm finally happy with chapter one, so I hope you enjoy and if the feeling takes you, review!
Disclaimer- I own nothing and no one!
Watching the blonde saunter deliberately around her bedroom, the flame-haired witch sighed inwardly and clenched her jaw.
"When you are quite done, Fiona." She managed only seconds before her freshly made bed had been tarnished by the ever so tiresome Fiona Goode.
"I'm never done." Came the reply through a small smirk as she purposefully wriggled around on the crease free Egyptian cotton that had so meticulously been laid out and folded at the top right corner to allow a window of red bed linen to peer out into the tastefully dressed bedroom.
"So I see." Myrtle sighed as she glanced over her favourite white Egyptian Cotton for any traces of makeup residue; a glitter-bronze or a smudge of a deep red that she could hold onto at night. "Shouldn't you be with the girls?" In despite of the closet full of love she harboured for the Supreme, she grew weary of Fiona's games. She grew tired of her need for attention and the fact that she knew she could get it from Myrtle. She became agitated when she used the red-head's unspoken love for her to get her own way. Of course Fiona knew, she was the Supreme after all, but to admit it would be to admit defeat. Fiona would only ever use it against her anyway and the love would never be reciprocated.
"The girls can manage without me." The blonde shrugged off as she propped herself up and lit a cigarette. The burning tobacco between her slender fingers compelled a grey nebula that both women watched for a small moment.
"They have done for twenty years, I guess another twenty minutes won't cause a devastation." Myrtle smirked as she sat in her armchair opposite the bed and lit her own cigarillo. Her own cloud of factory-grey wasn't as alluring as the blonde's and neither watched it for more than a second.
"We're still going to have this same conversation?" Fiona grimaced and made to get up from the bed.
"You left this coven almost defenceless, Fiona, you should be paying for that, amongst your other indiscretions too, of course." Myrtle said calmly, knowing the effect it had on her opponent, and secretly quite enjoying the reaction from Fiona.
"What indiscretions?!" Fiona bellowed. She had taken the bait and given the head of the witches council the reaction she was counting on.
"You know what I'm talking about, Fiona, I can smell a lie from a hundred feet away, now please leave me." Myrtle needed her alone time more than Fiona would ever comprehend. The fiery nature of the Supreme permeated Myrtle's dreams, and the elegance of her every movement filled her waking state.
Fiona smirked from the left side of her sanguine mouth, and took another deliberate draw from her cigarette before flicking the ash to Myrtle's polished wood. She'd been able read the red-head's telling eyes from the moment her feelings towards her had changed. She'd watched her subconscious inclination move from affection to love over the years, and she wasn't entirely offended by it; it was a sure-fire way of ensuring someone's attention was completely on her. "We're not done."
Myrtle's gaze drifted from the ash on the floor, slowly along the curvature of the blonde's legs to rest a moment at her waist before meeting the intense knowing but icy glare. Dropping her head slightly to shift her glance over the frame of her glasses, she inwardly shook the thoughts from the forefront of her mind. "Fiona, leave me."
The Supreme stood slowly, brushing her skirt slightly before flicking a second shower of ash onto the floor.
"Well," Fiona drawled roughly, "I can see I'm no longer wanted." A glisten in Fiona's eyes sent an anxious shiver down Myrtle's spine. "For now, anyway." Her hips swayed slowly as she made her way to the door, before throwing a predictable glance over her shoulder as she shut the door behind her leaving Myrtle to her thoughts.
Myrtle sank back into her arm chair and drew from her cigarillo. The smoke spiralled above her and she tutted at it. Fiona was the woman she'd always wanted to be, but also the woman she'd always wanted to have.
Taking a moment to fidget with her fuchsia Westwood two-piece nervously, she sighed to herself. Fiona had a talent for making her feel like her awkward teenaged self again, and she just hated it. Her own style and grace came from a need for the Supreme's attention in whichever way it presented itself, though it was usually in a less-than-pleasant manner. She didn't mind the snide remarks really, because it meant she was being noticed. Of course, she enjoyed fashion; she understood it.
She couldn't sit down for long, the Westwood would become too creased, she instead made her way to the bed and began straightening out the mess that Fiona had created; if only they had created that mess together. Sighing again, she pulled the sheets taught and brushed any creases from the white cotton and turned down the corner again. Her room was her sanctuary; the one area of the house she could be herself without worrying about what Fiona night think. Once happy with the bed, she made her way over to her dresser.
Gloved fingers traced the edges of old picture frames as she reminisced over her failed marriage. How she had loved Egon, but she had known even whilst they were consummating the marriage that the fondness she felt for him would never compare to that which she felt for Fiona Goode; he had known it too. She could remember the night it ended, and it broke her heart still.
Arm candy to Egon von Furstenberg wasn't a sober job. The after-parties were particularly difficult. Myrtle von Furstenberg became an accessory. She loathed the women at these parties; tall, blonde, hourglass dolls who smiled rarely and always took an instant disliking to Myrtle von Furstenberg's style choices and outspoken nature- all of the reasons Egon had fallen in love with her.
"Please don't make me sit with them again, Darling, I couldn't bear it!" Myrtle quietly begged as they finished their rounds of greetings.
"We are not having this conversation again, Red." Came the stern reply through a gritted smile as they passed a group of people acknowledging them.
"Oh, but they hate me." She purred as she stroked the arm that linked her own.
"Not as much as you'll hate yourself with another black eye." Egon chimed, again smiling at passers by as they reached the bar. "Get her any drink she wants, all night." He winked at the barman before turning to his slightly dejected wife, who stood pawing around her eye. "Myrtle."
Her head snapped up, "please, don't leave me with those girls." She tried again.
"Myr," he crooned, "don't overdo it, it'll not be a late one." A brief kiss to her cheek and he marched off into the next room.
Spotting a dark secluded corner she made her order of a dry martini and walked purposefully to it. If anyone had seen her, they'd made no attempt to speak to her. Egon wouldn't be happy when he found out she'd sat alone, but it was only adding fuel to the already burning fire.
Fifteen minutes went by without an acknowledgment in her direction and she wasn't far from finishing her drink; she hadn't quite worked out how she was going to be able to get another drink and disappear again without someone recognising her. A member of the staff appeared , as if hearing her plan of action, and placed a martini in front of her. She nodded her apologies and rushed that it had been bought for her before scuttling away.
Myrtle looked around for a moment, unable to work out where the drink had been sent from. Looking back at the drink she was startled to see a figure beside her.
"I'd heard you were coming to these parties." Fiona smirked from the side of the straw dipped into her own Martini.
"Not by choice, dear," Myrtle gasped out, "and you scared me nearly to death!"
"What's the point in being the Supreme if you can't use your powers to frighten people?" Came the amused remark.
"Let's get drunk, Fiona." The red head almost growled as she drained the remainder of her drink and did the same with her second.
"Guess I've got some catching up to do." Fiona grinned as she drained hers in correspondence.
An uncounted number of drinks later, the pair were still sat in the corner, allowing the other women to stare at their loud and obnoxious behaviour. It was easier with Fiona there; she'd never cared what other people thought of her. She even began to believe that she may have been over her infatuation with her; that it was pure admiration for her that she now felt.
"So, tell me, how is it being Myrtle von Furstenberger?" Fiona slurred.
"Von Furstenberg." Myrtle corrected, "and it's wonderful."
"Aside from these parties." Fiona added.
"Yes, aside from these parties." The red head sighed.
"And the lovely shiner he's left you with." The blonde skilfully slipped in. Myrtle instinctively reached for her eye and dropped her head. "You know you can't hide anything from me, Carrot-top."
"I didn't think it was noticeable." Myrtle sighed, "I'm so clumsy, you know, I just completely misjudged the door frame."
"Aren't you a guardian of the truth or something equally as boring?" Fiona smirked as the red head shot a look of annoyance her way. "The makeup is good, but don't forget who you're trying to fool."
"It was my own fault really," Myrtle started, "I should just learn to keep my big mouth shut."
"Why bother?" Fiona shrugged, "he'll have only found another reason; men like that are all the same, I bet he told you it was an accident, that it wouldn't happen again, or that it was in fact your fault."
Myrtle sat dumbfounded. She loved Egon, she really did, but was what Fiona was saying right? She loved him, but lived in fear of him. She'd assumed this was normal, could she have been wrong? If he found out she'd been talking like this, he'd been so angry; and if that's what he did when he loved her, what would he do if he got really angry? She was suddenly terrified.
"Can we talk about something else please?" She finally asked before draining another drink.
"You're scared of him, aren't you?" Fiona goaded. "Does he not know who you are?! You're Myrtle von Furstenberg, descendent of Salem, member of The Witches Council and the best damned teacher Miss Robicheaux's Academy has ever lost!"
"Fiona, why are you here?" Myrtle changed the subject.
"Because I knew you were in trouble."
"But you hate me." The red head looked at her Supreme with tear-filled eyes.
"My feelings for you don't enter into this, Fire-Crotch." Fiona winked, "we need you to come home, and you need to leave this bastard."
"I love him." Myrtle crooked.
"Then you can love him from a safe distance, come on, we're leaving." Fiona stood to leave, before noticing that Myrtle still sat, hands in lap, tears beginning to fall. "Right, fuck this." She growled before heading to the men's after-party.
"No!" Myrtle screeched as she stood clumsily and made after her, "please don't! Fiona!"
A set of heavy wooden doors collided with the walls that held them upright and a slightly drunk, but still immaculately dressed Fiona Goode strode into the smoke filled room.
"Sorry little lady, this isn't your room." Egon stood from the booth in the middle of the room and made to show her out before noticing that Myrtle had appeared by her side.
"Please, don't do this Fiona." She begged.
"Ahh, the infamous Fiona." His gentle smile became dark within the instant her name was spoken, he held out his hand and she batted it away.
"Egon, what is your wife doing in here?" A tall slender gentleman shouted irritably from behind him.
"She was just leaving." He turned slightly to his friend before turning back to the women in front of him. "I suggest you and Fiona go back to the party next door, I do apologise that our first meeting wasn't a pleasant one, Fiona, I'm sure Myr will realise her mistake later." Moving to place a gentle hand at Fiona's side to guide her from the room he was, without warning thrown to the other side of the mahogany room.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on me!" Fiona snarled as Myrtle stood wide-eyed. This was surely it, he'd kill her, she just knew it. The blonde took a few steps further into the room and smirked as she saw the other ten-to-fifteen men cower in her presence. Egon sat against the wall with a confused and terrified look on his moustached face. Myrtle had a sudden wave of horror and ran towards her husband. Kneeling on the floor in front of him she whispered her apologies and ran her hands over his quaking body, using her powers to assess any injuries. "Myrtle Snow, you'd better move."
Myrtle's head snapped up at hearing her maiden-name, she spun in place and glared at the blonde who was slowly advancing towards them.
"I understand." Egon sputtered, holding his torso, in pain.
"Ssh, Darling, I'll handle this." Myrtle consoled him, "you have a broken rib, it may be pressing against a lung."
"I understand, Myrtle." He tried again, "she's truly beautiful."
Myrtle tilted her head and furrowed her brow before turning to Fiona who had stopped just a few feet away. "Fiona, stop this."
"I'm only just getting started." Fiona grinned as she narrowed her eyes at the man before her. He began to shake.
"Fiona please!" Myrtle begged again, attempting to use her own powers to stop the mind-shattering she knew was about to happen.
"You're not strong enough, myr." Came the easy reply.
"The way her name rings in your voice, you're more you than I've ever seen you, all because this lady stands before you." Egon coughed.
Myrtle lost all concentration and sent a glare to Fiona.
"It's not me," she chuckled, "I was trying to fry his brain!" Fiona shrugged off the attack and rubbed her temples.
"You'll never love me the way you love her." Egon whispered. "I thought I could scare you into loving me."
Myrtle hung her head and finally allowed herself to sob as Fiona turned to walk away. Her part in this was done, he was going to leave Myrtle, and The Academy would be safe again. Myrtle made an attempt to stand and noticed that the rest of the gentlemen in the room had clearly scarpered but was halted by her dear Egon coughing her name.
"Myrtle, I will NOT be embarrassed like that again." He said calmly before throwing a heavy fist in her direction, landing her unconscious.
Soaring through the air before he'd even realised what had happened, he hit another wall, hard.
"Don't you EVER touch my friend again!" Fiona growled as she advanced on the man, "or next time your brain will run out of your ears, your eyes, and your nostrils!"
Myrtle let a single tear fall before wiping it away with Indignance. At least her half of the marriage had kept the academy running a little longer. There was such a history between the two women, yet none of it mattered. She would reach the end of her life with an unrequited love.