Killing witches was all they knew in this world. Kill and burn; the two major rules in witch hunting. They learned that with the first witch they killed when they were only mere children. She pushed them, they pushed right back, into the oven.

If only that damn white bird did not distract and lead them to the witch's house. If only their stomachs weren't so empty; if only they weren't so hungry as to walk up and try to start eating on the savory sugar goodness of the house that belonged to a witch. If only they weren't caught. If only he wasn't shoved into a cage and force fed to become plump enough for eating. If only. He would not then be in this predicament. And they would have made it home, not by white stones or bread crumbs.

Not that Hansel complained about the hunting down and slaughtering of witches across the country side in order to save the lives of other people's children. He took his passion and funneled it into what he does best, working with tools in which to capture and kill a witch. He is left to maintaining and acquiring their ever growing arsenal of weapons.

He had dug himself a metaphorical hole that he could not get out of. The first few days living with the witch, he ate all that she shoved into his cage, for he didn't want her to in turn hurt Gretel. That was his major mistake, resulting in the manner of the hot water he is in at his age now. He was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes. He was smart enough to rig himself a special clock timer that would let him know when he needed to turn to his bag and pull out one of his syringes to take his insulin medicine. All do to eating too much sugar that the witch forced down his throat.

His invention was broken, in little bits on the ground beside his head. Destroyed by a witch stomping on his left wrist and crushing the device. Without the tools and means of fixing it, his life is left in the hands of Gretel. Who, at the moment, is dealing with another witch. The two witch sisters are none to happy that Hansel and Gretel had busted down their door and caught them prodding small children as if they were cattle ready to be slaughtered and disemboweled.

Her shoe crushing down on his wrist so hard, he swears he can hear the bones compacting from the weight. His clock invention is totally worthless now as it is be pulverized under the weight of the witch. Her cackling laugh ringing in his ears and he feels his head swimming.

There are little things that make up a witch in a which that is recognizable, even in their beautiful human skin form. (Used to try and lure in unsuspecting human men) Witches have square feet with short stubby toes and never wear pointy shoes. Witches don't have very keen sight; easier to trick them into traps. Their eyes have a purple sheen to them that is detectable in the right light and at the right angle. They do, on the other hand, have a very keen sense of smell. In which they use to sniff out for young children and lure them into their own twisted traps. The witch that lured him and his sister in used the trap of cooking sweets and making her home out of sweets.

Back to the present; Hansel is squirming under the pinning weight of the witch. None of his weapons are in arms length reach, relying on Gretel now. Though her hands are tied as she is fighting the other witch sister, hand to hand. When needing to, also using her head. Boy, does that come in handy at a moment's notice?

"Gretel..." he groans lowly for her and has her attention for a mere second before she takes out the other witch sister in a head lock and snapping her neck. He listens to the witch above him hiss at Gretel in anger before she drops dead to the ground, on top of him. Great. Hearing Gretel's boots shuffling quickly over to him and pulling the witch's body off of him before helping tug him up on his feet. He dusts himself off before grabbing for her face and pulling her close to his. "Gretel," he whispers her name, watching her close her eyes and nod her head in acknowledgment.

"Hansel, your watch," she whispers, her shaky hands move quickly to his left wrist, over what is left of his clever invention. A look of hurt upon her face as her fingers brush over some loose pieces and they fall out of place. "I'm sorry, Hans. I'm so so sorry. This shouldn't have happened."

"Look, I'll...be alright. Just, where is the nearest town?"

"At least a day's walk from this witch's house," she shrugs her shoulders, walking over to the window and peering out. "And the sun is going down. Best to stay here tonight, brother." She turns back to look at him and he nods his head in agreement. Together they drag the bodies off into the furnace and light the flames. Hunkering down in the old witch sister's house until dawn comes.

A day's walk felt like years in Hansel's opinion. Dragging his feet along with the added weight of their ammunition around his waist and against his back. And with that, their trek was up and over a pretty steep hill at that. He groaned lowly in protest, but Gretel helped to pull him along. It was awhile till they reached the top of the hill and had a view down into the low valley where a small town was nestled.

"Lets hope they have a blacksmith," Hansel sighs, dropping their gear to rub at his sore lower back.

"I do too. I need to fix the cross bow," she looks over at him sadly, reaching out a hand to touch his forehead. "We'll make it down into town and you can give yourself a shot. Do you have any left?"

"No," he groans. "The witch's broke them all. They're useless to me, Gretel."

"Here's also to hoping there's a healer down in that town, Hans," she pats him on the back and he lurches forward, loosing his balance. She reacts quickly to pull him back and he regains his composure. "Sorry," she whispers and he brushes her off with a hand.

"Lets just get going. I need an injection, Gretel. I don't know how much longer I can hold off on it."

"Very well, Hans." She takes some of the weight off him now, carrying their weapons as the two of them traverse down the still rugged hill side into the town.

The town was dirty and smokey; the streets mucky with the last rain spell that had past through the area. And as they walked in on the main street, all eyes were trained on them and their weapons. The towns people had a right not to trust them, they had not called upon witch hunters and yet here at the two best.

"This place sure is a shit hole," he looks around as the town's people duck from their sight. "They are treating us like as if we have the plague."

"It's fine. I rather not have to deal with anyone in person," Gretel continues walking and Hansel slowly follows till they reach the town center. Only then do the towns people come out and begin to form a crowd around them.

"This doesn't look good," he groans, turning around and looking at all the frowning dirty faces peering back at them. "Look, is there a blacksmith in this town? And maybe a healer?" he asks loudly. The crowd is silent, their eyes glassy and still trained on the weapons they are carrying. "Look, we are not here to wage war on you. We are witch hunters. And...I am in need of some blacksmith tools and a healer. Where may I find you?" He waits a minute and watches as the crowd parts and a fair young woman approaches them.

"I am a healer," her voice is yet but a whisper and Hans can't help the smile on his face at the sight of her and the thought of finally getting a big shot of insulin for his body. He feels he is running on rattling nerves and Gretel helps to keep him upright.

"And a blacksmith?" she asks and the crowd produces another person. A young stout looking man with strong arms and grease smudges on his face. They have just what they set out to find, a blacksmith and a healer. Now to just get to work. Hans calls over the healer to his side.

"How good at you at mixing up medicines?" he asks, leaning in close to her and trying to keep his balance.

"I mix them well, sir," she replies shyly.

"How about some insulin in syringes?"

"I can do that, sir," she smiles softly and nods her head. He follows her, not without glancing back at Gretel first. His sister waves him on and he turns back to the town healer, following her to her quarters of town and her tiny shop. Surprised at the amount of medical tools she as, as the medical profession is a male's role, and only medicines are a female's role. She knows what she is doing and that is a relief for Hansel.

She sits him down in a chair first and then proceeds with out stretched hands to check his pulse from his neck. He catches her by the wrist and meets her eyes. "You don't have to keep calling me 'sir'. My name will do, Hansel, or just Hans." He gives her a slight smile before letting go of her wrist, wanting her cheeks heat before she continues with listening to his heart and lungs.

"This will take me some time to mix up for you, si...Hansel," she nods her head at him quickly, hiding her face with her deep red long loose hair.

"Alright. I have some business to attend to with my sister, over at the blacksmith. You come get me when it's ready, alright?" he pushes himself up out of the chair slowly, his body screaming on the inside as her pushes himself to exit the shop and walk across the way to the blacksmith's stall. Catching Gretel's attention. "Does he have all..that we need?"

"Mostly. And tools for you to rebuild your watch," she turns to face him, crossing her arms under her breast and sternly frowning. He pays close attention to her mood, knowing she wants what's best for him and that at the moment would be for his watch invention to be fixed and a few shots of insulin into his system. He finds himself loosing his balance, swaying a little, catching himself against the door frame. "Hansel, you shouldn't be here. You should be back at the healers," she comes over to him, resting her hands on his arms and looking at him sadly. "Come, I shall go with you." Together they leave the blacksmith's shop and head back to the healer.

By then she had a few small vials of insulin made up for him and ready to be slipped into his pack. Walking over to him with one in her hand.

"Here, let me administer this to you," she speaks softly to him and he feels he can't turn her down on that, though he does it most of the time. He begins with the buckles of his vest and the buttons down his white shirt, exposing his chest and abdomen to her. She having instructed that he should inject himself else where, for his left leg above the knee is riddled with holes from injecting himself so many times over. He glances over at Gretel for a moment before looking back down to the healer as she gently inserts the needle into his side and it feels just right. Feeling the push of the syringe as it injects the insulin into his system an he feels the rush of instant relief come over him. To the point that he feels his knees go weak and he sinks down into the near by chair.

"Ah, thank you. Thank you so so much," he pulls her close to him, catching the heat of her cheeks as he kisses one, then the other side. "What's the payment?"

"No, no payment," she pipes up, shaking her head.

"Really," he frowns at her, "what do you want? I'll pay you anything?" He watches as she lifts her gaze to Gretel standing none to far away.

"There is a witch. There is a witch that has been luring children out of our town. They do not return. We fear the worst. If you wish for me to tell you a payment...please, helping us with our witch problem will suffice." Hansel finds himself grinning now, ear to ear at the sound of a witch hunt. This is what he and Gretel do best.

"You have a deal. And again, thank you!"

On finding an open room at the local tavern, Hansel and Gretel settled down for the night after a few rounds of the finest mead. Or at least, that's what Hansel had. They now have a new mission to work on while having lodging and their weaponry being fixed.

With a few good doses of insulin running through his system, and a few more to spare, he feels he will not be sleeping any time soon. He feels hyper and jittery, all the while trying to stay put in one spot and be quiet so Gretel can rest.

He retreats from his top bunk to the bunk below, where Gretel is sleeping for the night. She rolls over on her back and pushes her hands up against his face, a thumb hooking into his open mouth.

"No. Stop. Go away, Hansel. Not now," she whines and continues to worm her body underneath him in protest, but he doesn't budge. Leaning in to kiss her rosy cheeks and forehead.

"Gretel, so fussy," he holds his hands to either side of her head, his fingers running through her long soft locks.

"I mean it, Hansel."

"No, you don't," he whispers, leaning in a bit more to capture her lips in a firm heat claiming kiss. But, she works one leg free under him, bringing her knee up between his legs and with a strong kick to the left, throws him off of her and to the hardwood floor. He rolls into a crouch, as not to have it look too awkward as he completely regains his balance. Standing back up now, snatching and pulling on his trench coat before glaring back at her.

Slipping out of their lodge room and into the open air of the sleepy little town. This early in the morning, there isn't much movement let alone sounds. It takes him a few minutes to cool down before he takes note that he does not hear the sound of any night time creatures in the surrounding forest. No owls, no crickets, no rustling of rats. Nothing. Dead silence.

This intrigues him. Maybe there's more than just a witch plaguing this town; maybe there's more at work. Curiosity always got the better of Hansel and he journeyed down beyond the wooden gates and walls surrounding the town. Now standing on the main road in and looking down at the dirt beneath his boots. Listening carefully again as nothing in the forest stirs.

He knows better than to go out witch hunting in the dark. There are many things out there that go bump in the night and Hansel doesn't really feel like bumping into any of them. He stands there for a good few solid minutes before moving on, penetrating the darkness of the evergreen shrouded forest. Witch craft is the works, he can feel it in his bones and rattling through his body.

He can see something through the dense trees. A light that seems to flicker between red and orange. As he squints his eyes, ordering them to focus; he jumps as he feels a hand on his back. Spinning around quickly with his hands in front of his chest, as if that's going to protect him from a witch.

"Gretel!" he gasps at sight of her standing there behind him, her arms crossed under breast and a stern frown upon her face.

"No, Hansel. What are YOU doing out here?"

"I...saw something."

"Saw what?"

He turns and looks back in the direction of the odd light; it really is gone. Turning to look back at Gretel's frowning face again.

"But, really, I saw something..."

"Just come back to the lodge, Hansel. You need to rest. Regain your strength from being without your shots for day. Come, come on, Hansel," she beckons him, grabbing him by the hand and leading him back into the safety of the town walls. He glances back over his shoulder one last time and catching a glimpse of the light; but he does not wish to bug Gretel further. He shall investigate it when the sun comes up. When he doesn't have his sister tracking his every movement.

Once back in their room, he sheds his heavy trench coat off his body and sinks down to the hardwood floor with even less of ease. Watching Gretel do the same and slip back under the blankets of her small bed. He loved her wearing one of his long white shirts. It just comes down a little past her waist and when she bends, he is the guy with a lucky view.

"Go to sleep, Hansel."

He is the one frowning now. He can't go to sleep, he's not even in the least bit tired. Strung out between the too many drinks he had down at the tavern and the curiosity of the light in the forest, he feels he may not even get a wink of rest.

"What do you think their witch problem is like here, Gretel?"

"I don't want to think of it. I want to close my eyes and have a long good night's sleep. And so should you, Hansel." She has her back turn to him, clearly in no mood to play his games.

"But Gretel..."

"No, Hans!" she snaps, turning over now to look at him and he can't help the goofy smile that has pulled across his face. "Go to bed, Hans. Tomorrow we can interview all the towns people and gather the information we need on the witch. But for right now...go. To. Bed."

She knows just how to shut him up and he closes his mouth before he is about to use his witty mouth comeback on her. Sighing, he gets up and climbs into his top bunk, pulling the blankets over his head with a groan. But upon closing his eyes, he sees that light. That odd glowing red and orange light, and it's beckoning him to return to the woods. To investigate.

He hears in his mind, a little rhyme his mother use to tell him, 'Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back.' He will learn what that light is, he will...he yawns widely, hearing his jaw pop on the right side and he settles his head back down on his pillow once more. Sleep pulling him into the realm of darkness and no dreams.

Hansel woke up on the floor, having at some point feel out of his bunk during the night. His back was bruised and sore, including his kidneys. There's a deep ache settling into his heart, an ache and a tug, as if there were a string tied around it and someone was pulling on the other end. Something he can't describe in words and wishes not to share with his sister. A feeling of needing to be somewhere, a feeling of something inside of him clawing out for release. He ducks and rolls under Gretel's bunk, forcing himself back into the corner against the walls as he all together begins to hyperventilate. The fear of something inside him, is growing in the back of his mind. His body begins to loose its control and goes numb, prickling heat and clamminess wash over his entire being. Just as he is about to black out from it all, he feels a hand grab and tug him out with such force.

With eyes wide open, he stares up at Gretel above him. Wearing a mask of calmness over her face, a syringe in her left hand. She tugs his shirt up from around his waist and with precise movement, slips the needle under his skin on his left side, injected him with what he needed most. Almost instantly a wash of coolness comes over him and he feels he can breathe again. Slowly closing his eyes and taking in Gretel's sweet scent.

"That was close, Hansel," she whispers and he pushing himself up to sit in front of her now. "We really need to get your watch fixed." She reaches out and takes hold of his left hand, smoothing her fingers over the skin where his invention is normally strapped on. There is only a band of white and markings permanently etched into his skin from the leather strapping. "If I wasn't here when you started to have your attack..."

"I know, don't think about it, Gretel," he whispers, taking his hand back and then leaning forward to cup her face. "I'm deeply grateful I have you to look out for me and my well being. Thank you," he leans in to kiss her lush lips before resting his forehead against hers. They stay that way for a few minutes, both with their eyes closed and regaining their composure. This is only the beginning of their problems.

Together, they dress and head down to check on the blacksmith. Hansel is satisfied to see they already have the bellows heaving on the scorching fire. He needs high heat for the pieces he needs to make to fix his watch. He nods his head at Gretel as to tell her that she leave him here and interview the towns people on their witch problem.

He works tirelessly for the next couple hours. Heating, pulling and pounding his own metal. Shooing away the blacksmith every time he approaches and tries to help. In the end, he has all the pieces he needs, wrapping them up in a square of suede and stuffing into his back for later assembly. He has someone to visit.

Walking through the streets as the farmers market is in full swing, was not a good idea. He was asked to dance with a handful of women, had flowers slipped into his hair and kisses on his cheeks from some older women. Eventually he is able to slip away to the healer's shop. Opening the door and walking right in, shutting the door behind him and peering out the window.

"Being followed?"

He jumps and turns quickly to see the healer slip into the front room from the back, a bushel of wheat in her hands.

"No, just...just...I feeling I got mobbed by all the people out at the market. It's just...I'm not good in closed places," he blushes slightly as she seems to float across the room to him, he feet barely touching the ground as she walks elegantly to his side. Shooing him to one side as she places the wheat into a basket on the low shelving.

"I understand. Come, I have some more medicine for you," she beckons him to follow her into the back room and he obeys.

"Thank you for the shots. They are a god send, really. I had a horrible attack this morning," he laughs softly, trying to make it a light hearted subject. She looks back over her shoulder and smiles ever so sweetly at him and feels as if someone has just hit him in the chest. He feels stunned, but continues to follow her into her work area. She grabs a large vial off the shelf and holds it out to him.

"To refill your syringes. And do keep up using that new area," she presses her hands on her left side as a visual message to him.

"Ah, yes. Yes, I will. I know...my leg was looking pretty horrible the last time I saw it," he laughs again, right hand scratching at the back of his head.

"Sweet, silly little boy," she smiles coyly and he blinks at what he just heard.

"What?"

"What?" she inclines back at him. "You have grease smudges all over your face. How about I clean those for you?" she turns from him and grabs a little hand towel. Reaching out and clutching the collar of his leather vest to tug him down to her level. She runs her tongue over the hand towel before rubbing it against his face in a soothing circular motion that could put him instantly into a trance like sleep. "How is it that one boy can get so dirty?"

"I was working...over at the blacksmith's hut. I...was fixing my watch. My...invention. It tells me when I need to take another shot. It saves my life. Without it, Gretel is my only savior."

"Is that so?" she moistens the towel once more and it brushes under his left eye. He can't help but focus on her voice and that sweet smile on her rosy lips. The way her long fiery red hair flows over her shoulders like water. That slight purple sheen in her otherwise steel gray eyes. "Why don't you stay here awhile? At least till the market has come to an end." He nods his head in agreement and she continues to smile. Leading him to a chair to sit down. And he'll admit that suddenly he felt tired, his knees aching and legs shaking. "That's it. You just sit here and rest and I'll make you something to eat."

"That sounds great. I'll just stay right here," he pats the arms of the chair and can't help the stupid ass grin tugging across his face at being spoiled like this.

After some time, the room begins to fill with such smells that he can not describe in words. There is the smell of sweetness an smell of spices. When he opens his eyes again, he sees her entering the room with a bowl of steaming soup in her hands and a sweet smile on her lips.

"That smells good," he leans forward as she approaches him, pulling over a small table and setting it down before him.

"Please, eat your fill. You need it more than I." She watches him with keen eyes as he begins to sip the soup. The taste that touched his tongue was almost pure magic, but he did not dwell on that as he soon reached the bottom of the bowl and his stomach was full. Pushing the bowl away and she takes. He feels his eyes grow tired, through it is still morning. He can't help to be pulled down under the veil of sleep.

His dreams are as vivid as if they were truly real. He stood in the forest, alone. It is dark as he shuffles his feet along through the underbrush. Lifting his gaze up, he catches sight of the light through the trees once more. Curious and needing to know the true nature of the light, he begins his trek towards it. But as he walked, the light seemed to be staying at the same distance, no longer how far he kept walking. Soon becoming exhausted and falling to his knees.

Hansel jolts awake at the feeling of a hand resting down on his shoulder, against his neck. Looking up quickly to see it is just the healer woman. He calls on his calm complexion once more.

"I...don't even know your name and you have done so much for me."

She smiles sweetly and forms her name with her lips, "Aislinn," she whispers and he nods his head.

"Hansel," he holds his hand out to her, but she doesn't take it, taking a step back. "Sorry," he mutters, taking his hand back with a slight blush. "You're a one of a kind healer. No one has been able to make up that much of my medicine in such a short amount of time."

"I have a special recipe, and I find that I am quite good at making it." Hansel watches as she looks out the door into the front room as the door opens and someone enters the shop. Her expression all together changes. "Your sister is here."

"Gretel?" he pushes himself up out of his chair and is quick to jog out to hug his sister. Throwing his arms around her and kissing her cheeks. She pushing him back with ease. "How goes the interviews?"

"Dead end," she frowns at him. "They play as if there is no witch problem, but clearly they are hiding more than they want to lead on, Hans. I fear this is going to be tougher than we first imagined."

They are back at the tavern as the sun dwindles down in the sky to discuss the matters over a pint or two of mead; at least for Hansel anyways.

"These towns people are not letting on more than they know. Either they are keeping quiet because they are too scared, or someone has threatened them to stay quiet. Either way, I think there is a huge problem here, Hans," she lifts her gaze up to meet his as he tips back his mug.

"Ridiculous."

"They did say there was a witch problem. Did you notice, during the market, there is no children here, Hansel."

"I wasn't paying that close of attention. I was trying to avoid everyone that was lurching out to capture me. So what if there's no kids here."

"Hansel!" she hisses loudly at him. "This is not like you! What has gotten into you!?"

"Nothing but shots to my stomach," he brings his mug down, arching a brow at her. "Could be more." She huffs and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms under her breast and frowning sternly in thought. He takes this time to reach out and steal her drink. They can't have anything go to waste.

"That healer woman..." He drops his mug now down to the table as those words come out of his sister's mouth.

"No, Gretel. She is not a witch. Not even close," he speaks, bringing the mug of mead back to his lips and she takes note that he has stolen her drink. "You should have tried that soup she made for me. Gretel, I felt I had died and gone to heaven."

"You're not going to go to heaven, Hansel," she frowns at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Whatever, it was just a figure of speech. No need to get your panties in a bunch. If they're not already in a bunch," he brings down the mug, leans in close to her, grinning from ear to ear. She reaches out with her right hand and in one swift movement smacks it hard against his face and it stings. He leans back and begins to rub at his sore cheek while frowning at her.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that, Hansel! I am your sister, and I will not tolerate you speaking to me that way. We work as a team."

"Team, right," he continues to frown and rub till the stinging is gone and is replaced with numbness.

After their drinks, they turn in for the night as the towns folk still are not giving up any useful information to them and their weapons aren't completely fixed. He spends his time before climbing into bed, sitting at the desk but lamp light and reconstructing his watch invention. Making it even a little bit better. And doesn't that make his heart beat a little bit faster? He turns around in his chair to see Gretel already fast asleep on the bottom bunk. He puts down his tools and quickly slinks to the side of the bed. Leaning in and down low to kiss her heated cheeks. Brushing her hair back from her forehead and leaving sweet caresses and kisses there too. Hearing her stir awake, but he does not draw back. Instead, he cups her face in his palms and kisses her with deep open passion.

"Hansel," she whines, pushing her hands against his chest, but he does not budge off of her. Continuing with his pampering of showering her with kisses and affection. Not knowing where this need is coming from, it just filling and overflowing in his mind to do this to Gretel.

"Shh...shh...be quiet, Gretel. Enjoy this," he whispers in her ear and her whines turn to whimpers of lust. A smile pull on his lips as he hears that glorious sounds and proceeds and peel Gretel out of his dress shirt. Finding her lusciously naked beneath the thin clothing. The vastness of lush white skin, high lighted by the moonlight outside coming through the window and the lamp light from the desk he was just sitting at.

This time, this is not sibling teasing, this time he feels something inside for Gretel. Carefully brushing his fingers over her breast, their softness is something he can't even begin to describe in words. Pushing his thumbs over dusky rose erected nipples and watching Gretel's cheeks heat with a blush as her body gives a shudder.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispers, leaning his head down to take a tentative lick with his tongue against one before taking it into his mouth.

"Hans," she pants, her hands pushing against his head, fingers musing through his hair and massaging his scalp. "Stop," she growls, pushing with energy this time and his head snaps away from her breast, staring at her with wide eyes. She's frowning, her hands quickly to grab his face and pulls him down to her. "Hansel," she whispers and searches for something in his eyes. "Hansel."

"I'm here, right here," he snatches at her wrists, moving forward to kiss her again. He can't help the movement of his hips as his erection is chaffing against his leg in his leather trousers and he rubs himself against her body. It all feels right to him and the fact that they are siblings, goes right out the door. He lets go of her wrists as his hands are quick to free his throbbing arousal. Glancing back up her body to meet her eyes as they dart quickly over to his erection. "It won't bite," he grins at her shock. "Come on. It's not like you haven't seen one before, right, Gretel." She huffs at him and scoots her body up the bed, but he snatches and holds tight to her hips, keeping her in place. "Tsk tsk. Stay still and let me pleasure you, sister." He leans down to leave a trail of kisses from her navel down to the juncture between her thighs.

Hansel snaps awake, his head down on the desk over the little metal watch pieces (that are now stuck to his face). He is shaking from head to toe and feeling so hot. Looking over at Gretel asleep on her cot, her back turned to him. He pushes his the heels of his palms against his closed eyes and groans, running his fingers the rest of the way through his hair. So, it was all a dream? Him and Gretel? He pushes back from the desk and walks to the other side of the room, drawing out another syringe of insulin. Lifting up his shirt and injecting himself in his side. Slowly the shakes fade away and he walks back over to the open window. Lifting his gaze up to the full moon and the stars. A black spot quickly cuts across the moon and he finds himself scared stiff to the spot he's standing in. A witch! There really is a witch!

Turning to look at Gretel, debating in his head about waking and telling her. Coming to the decision to letting her sleep. Waking a grumpy Gretel is not a good idea. Looking back out the window to see all is still well. A shudder runs down his spine, like a premonition, he tries to shake it off. They'll talk about it when the morning comes. He returns his bed and lays down, after blowing out the lantern. When he closes his eyes, all he can see is something passing in front of the moon, the bird like cackles that witches make, and that glowing orange light in the forest. Tonight, he's not going to get any sleep.

He finds his feet have taken him back to the healer's shop. Maybe for more shots, maybe because he wanted to see her. Either way, the smell of sage is filling his nose and he is overcome with the urge to sneeze.

Having left the lodge and having left Gretel sleeping in her bed with no note, he doesn't really care. Sure now the reason for being here is just to see Aislinn and her long flowing red hair. As red as blood flowing in a stream.

"Here you are, Hansel," she hands him a leather bag, opening the flap to show him vials and vials of what he needs most. Most bang for his buck, really. Gretel has yet to find out too much information on this town's witch problem. Though after last night, he really does believe there is a witch.

"Aislinn," he takes a seat and waits till he has her attention. "Do you know where the witch lives?"

"Witch?"

"Yeh, you told Gretel and I the other day that there's a witch that has been terrorizing the town and stealing the children."

"You must have heard wrong, Hansel. There is no witch or witches, here."

"Oh yeh? I saw one last night, flying in front of the moon," he arches a brow at her and she stops with restocking the shelves. She then turns and tip toes the few steps to him and then straddles his lap with her legs. Her hands on his cheeks, looking into his eyes.

"There is not such thing as witches, Hansel. Sadly, you have brain washed," she whispers so softly, and yet her words are ringing in his ears. She then leans in to capture his lips in a deep kiss and he can't help that his hands more to the side of her thighs and rest on her hips. A moan escaping him and she smiles in delight. She tastes so sweet. Sweet like candy and icing. Sweet like the old witch's house. Sweet all the way down to her very core.

Hansel finds himself entranced. Like a fly caught in a spider's web as he picks up Aislinn and carries her into the back room, as he knows there is a cot back there. By then things have escalated and he takes her down rough as her hands claw at his leather vest and his fingers are trying to work fast on unfastening her bodice. Ah hell, he just rips it, he'll buy her a new one. Quick to shed out of his jacket and leather, unfastening his trousers and pulling off his boots while she teases him being only in her thin gown. Something he quickly takes off her as he goes down on her with ease.

There is heat, there is passion, there is love bites and there is blood drawn. There is pain and there is soreness. There is energy, there is lust, there is satisfaction as he collapses over top of her, gasping for breath as he tries to regain his senses. All to do it over again and again till there's a knock at the door at the front of the shop. Hansel stops and pulls back, pushing a hand through his sweat slicked hair and looking down on Aislinn. Her long red hair fans out around her like fire and the smile on her lips sends a shiver down to his cock. He watches as she easily sits up and pulls her dress back on before leaving him in the back room to attend to the door.

He looks around as he waits for her. Too wasted to even begin to try standing up or try using his legs for that matter. It dawning on him now that Gretel might be worried about him. So he makes the move to stand and falls down on his face. His body is weak and he feels he has no control over it. Just then Aislinn returns. She takes one of the vials from his bag and draws the liquid into a syringe, giving him an injection. The feeling of uselessness slowly fading back and he is able to sit up.

"I'm sorry, Hansel," she smooths her fingers against his cheeks and kisses his lips over and over, over his eyes and his forehead.

"Don't be. No, you don't have to be. It's my fault, really," he sighs, kissing her back with a gentle purr. She's sweet, like honey. He is able to pull away and get dressed once more. "Gretel must be worried about me. I didn't leave her a note."

"You're going back to your sister?"

"Yeh, we have work to do. We have a witch to track down, Aislinn. Going to make your town safe again," he turns and smiles at her, but that smile drops as he takes note that she does not look none to happy with him. "What? What is it? You...you're jealous of Gretel?" He can't help but laugh, but shuts up as she glares at him with her narrowed steel gray eyes. "Sorry."

"You have business to attend to. You should be going, Hansel," she pushes her hands against his back side as she begins to steer him to the front of the shop and the main door, having handed him the leather tote of the vials.

"Alright, alright, I'll go. No need to hustle me," he turns around quickly and steals another kiss from her lips. Taking note that the colour of her eyes have changed, but does not question it. He then slips out the door and into the muddy streets of the town.

Sauntering off to the black smith to see if he can find Gretel there. Their weapons should just be about fixed and they can start on the physical fun part of witch hunting.

Finding Gretel with out a problem, except for the part that she has her cross bow loaded and aimed right at him.

"Gretel, it's just me," he laughs, trying to get her to lower the weapon, but her eyes are narrowed in determination and telling him that she's not going to back down. "Whoa."

"You have witch smell all over you."

"I don't think it's witch smell," he grins, lifting an arm and sniffing at his jacket. "Yeh, totally not witch smell. How about you just lower the cross bow and we can talk."

"Talk about what?"

"What we have to do to rid this town of its witch problem." He watches as she slowly lowers the cross bow down against her left thigh. "That's what I thought. Have you been able to dig up any more information?"

"A child was abducted late last night. Hansel, a child was taken from right under our noses and we didn't know! Didn't hear a thing! This witch seems more clever than the rest."

"More bang for the buck?"

"More like, I'm afraid of injuries that might come along with this mission. Maybe we were too hasty to jump into this matter, Hans," she sighs and sets the cross bow down on the work bench.

"No, Gretel. We can't and we won't, give up now," he reaches out and sets his hands on her shoulders as she looks up to meet his gaze.

"Fine. Yes, we will find and exterminate the witch. It is what we do."

"Exactly. Now, about some more of that good mead?"

"Hansel, it's still early in the morning."

"That doesn't matter," he pushes her back to the tavern, passing Aislinn's shop. Through the window, he can see things moving inside, things almost floating in mid air. An a faint glowing orange light.

The bullet passed through the very core of the apple with ease; splitting it in half and the juice bleeds out down the post. He still has it in him, turning around to grin widely at Gretel for praise. She only nods her head and he drops the gun down to his side.

"Come on, admit that was a good shot, Gretel," he whines, walking up to her side as she is loading the cross bow, her favorite weapon. It takes some muscle work as the new pieces are a bit rough and need to be worn down before the cross bow to work fluidly as it is suppose to. She pushes the safety into place as she raises it and takes aim at another apple they have set up for target practice. A straight dead on shot and the short arrow is deeply embedded into the flesh of the apple. Something you don't want to happen to yourself. "Good shot, sis," he pats her on the back and she brushes his hand off of her quickly, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Seems he might still smell of 'witch' to Gretel, though that is not true. There was another kidnapping and no traces at the scene of the crime, except for claw marks on the bedroom door. It seems the child at least put up some sort of a fight against the witch. He can't wait to share the news later with Aislinn and to let her know they are working on a lead.

He feels the alarm go off on his invention, kneeling on the ground and opening his satchel. Taking out a new syringe as he moves his jacket aside. Pulling his shirt and vest up to reveal his porcelain white skin and slowly inserts the needle into his flesh.

"You've been taking too many of those, Hans," Gretel walks up to him and he knows she's frowning without even having to look up at her face.

"Too many? I don't think that can happen, Gretel. Look, I need it and you know. So just drop it, okay?" he brushes off his sister and hears her walk away from him as he empty the rest of the syringe into his blood stream. It feeling good and cold, calming his rattled nerves. Though he should not be nervous, it's not like this is his first witch hunt.

There is a witch's house no more than half a mile out of town to the north. Some say they hear blood curdling screams and cackling and are too afraid to approach the house in means of helping who ever is screaming in agony. They say that it is made of bones of those the witch kills and eats. The bones lay scattered around the outside of the cabin and in piles against its walls. It is a place that smells of cooking flesh and no animal has ever been spotted around the cabin. They say there is a light, a glowing orange light that seems to be the heart of the witch's home.

Hansel and Gretel approach the witch's residence with the same cool demeanor any time they are psyching themselves up for a witch hunt. Their weapons having all been fixed now and working to their upright capacity, maybe even a little bit better. He has had the time to actually put his mind to it and make them work smoother. With more accurate precision on hitting the target right where it needs to go.

He glances at Gretel clutching the cross bow tightly in her grasp. That really is her favorite weapon. She's not one for the big guns, in which he totes around and uses for everything.

They have also learned a little fact the town's people did not want to give up to them; that the witch in the woods is a beautiful woman. So sweet and supple looking, that any man would fall to his knees in front of her and beg for his life like a dog. Then again, stories passed from person to person, change a bit over time. Maybe she's really ugly and the story a year later turns out that she's really a beautiful woman that was trapped by the witch's spell.

No matter, Hansel thinks, he can deal with whatever is thrown at them. Be it an old hag or a beautiful woman.

The trek is long for only a half a mile. They had to set out and follow the creek up the steep mountain cliff side. The underbrush was thick and there were bugs everywhere. The thorns of the brushes are strong and thick, even tearing at the leather of his trench coat. Not to mention that from the recent rains, the earth beneath their feet is sticky and loose. A few times he has caught Gretel at the hips as she has slid back to him. Each time she shrugs him off.

As the creek begins to dwindle and dive underground, the surrounding woods come to a flat place. And there, between the thick trees, Hansel spots a light. The same light he saw a few nights ago, the same light that haunts his dreams. But he couldn't have see it this high up on the mountain side. They approach with caution, the cabin coming into view. There is a barrier of bones lining the house and against the foundation of the cabin. Small bones. Not of that of any large animal, like a deer. Hansel looks around and takes note that there really is no creature life around the cabin, just complete an utter silence.

"This it?" he turns to Gretel as she regains her breath, holding out a hand to her and pulling her closer to him and against his side.

"That is it," she breathes out a sigh and he knows that she's measuring out what they are really dealing with here. Clearly this witch loves her snacking and just leaving the trash around afterwards. Sadly, the trash is bones.

The void of silence is filled with the squeaking hinges of the door slowly opening. Hansel is quick to raise and aim his gun to the door as it opens. Then steps out a glorious woman that does not even begin to fit the description of a witch. Tall, thin, perfectly built to his dream woman, with long flowing hair and sharp violet eyes.

"Hello, Hansel. Come to visit me at home now?"

Holy shit, is right. The woman before his very own eyes is the same woman who is the healer back in town. Or at least the spitting image of her. The woman who he was falling for and shared a relationship with, even if for the short amount of time they were staying in town. Aislinn stands before them on the porch of the small cabin, taking the stairs of her porch down to the ground and gliding over to him. He can feel his body shaking and his aim wavering as he can't even begin to bring himself to kill her. Though she is a witch. They exterminate all witches.

He turns when he hears a piercing scream that he can only place with his dear sister, Gretel. She drops her cross bow to the ground as roots and vines wrap tightly around her ankles and drag her down with a loud thud that even has Hansel wincing. Pulling her off to god knows where, fingers clawing at the dirt of the earth. "Hansel! Hansel!" she yells at him to help her, but he feels he is frozen in one spot, he can't seem to move to try and help her as he should. His heart pounding quickly in his chest as his mind flicks over quickly about what might just happen to Gretel.

Slowly turning to look back at Aislinn, her hands raised in the air, fingers twitching and a grin on her face. "Have to get the distractions out of the way first. Don't you agree, Hansel?" she gives him a sweet smile and he feels a shudder run down his spine and he wants to gag. He has fallen for a witch, really fallen for a witch. Trying to look past her to the small house and catches a sight through the door of a faint glowing orange light. "Oh, you won't be needing this." He stares as the gun in his hands slowly floats up in the air and travels the distance to Aislinn. She grips it tightly before snapping it in half with her magic. "Come into my home, let me show you around," she crooks her finger to him and he feels a tugging inside, pulling him towards her and the house. Looking back over his shoulder and not seeing Gretel, just the cross bow laying there on the leaf ridden ground. "Come, Hansel."

He takes the steps up to the porch slowly and pulled inside, the heavy door shutting behind him. Looking around at all the candles placed at different levels around the inside of the house. Though this doesn't look like other witches hovels, most hidden in grottos. Watching Aislinn's back side as she tosses the broken parts into the fire and it's engulfed in blue flame so bright before dying down to a low orange, the metal leaking across the floor boards in large puddles. Aislinn turns to face him once more, violet eyes flashing brightly as she looks at him with a half lidded gaze.

"Now that we have your sister out of the way," she shuffles over to him, standing before him with a tight smile across her thin red lips, "we can continue where last stopped." She kisses his lips and it burns. He reals back and wipes quickly at his mouth, staring back at her. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot I had put on the chili powder. My bad." She tries to look sincere, but is smiling on the inside upon any pain she can conflict on him without the use of magic.

"No...no...how, Aislinn...how?" he stops talking, as if she has his tongue between her fingers, and stares.

"Hush. No more words, Hansel. You are mine. My little servant to serve and please me till I have no more use of you. Oh, you would make such a tasty snack to me."

"Like...all those kids you've kidnapped and ate?"

"Only to give me this glorious form," she smooths her hands down the front of her clothes, hinting at the flow of her hips and the roundness of her breast. "And I know you love it all. You crave it," she whispers, tongue darting out between her parted lips, eyes pinning him in place. "I have done nothing wrong."

"You have done everything wrong!"

"I hope you are not speaking about the sex. I am a master at that, dear little Hansel, I've had years and years of practice," she turns her back on him and he wants to lunge at her, but again he can move a muscle. "And the dreams...did you enjoy the dreams, Hans? Oh how I love driving men wild and up the walls. How I love to twist their humanity into a tight bow and choke them with it." She clenches her fingers tightly into a fist and Hansel feels he can not breath. As if she is clenching onto his lungs, squeezing out all the extra air. "I love when they are obedient to me and kiss my feet," she turns and smiles at him and he feels the air return to his lungs.

"You...you did something to me, didn't you?"

"Took you long enough. I thought you two were expert witch hunters. But you never did sniff me out."

"I thought..."

"You thought I was just the town healer. And I wanted to keep you thinking just that. But now, I have you wrapped around my finger from the inside out."

He sinks to the floor on his knees, eyes wide as his brain begins to function properly. They've been played all along. Or at least he has been played this entire time. Played by one crafty, sly witch.

He had blacked out. Not knowing how many hours he may have lost inside the house of a witch, inside Aislinn's house. But he comes around to the sight of the fire in the middle of the hovel. It is set down low into the ground and seems to flicker like a pulse of a heartbeat, the flames a bright orange, yet blue in the center. His head is swimming and he feels groggy, eyes stinging. Looking down his body to find that he has been disarmed. Leather duster gone, belt gone with his ammo, leather vest, gone. Only left where his thin white tunic with his leather pants and his boots. Feeling too exposed to the witch, to his liking.

"So my little Hansel is awake. Sorry about that." He tries to lift his head as he hears her voice, but his head feels so heavy. "No, no. Don't move. It will only make things worse. Listen to me, I'm a witch." She moves into his line of sight now and he wants to rub at his eyes. Looking at her scantily clad form and a butcher knife clutched tightly in her right hand. A smile on her lips, eyes flashing bright with some scheme he doesn't really want to know.

"Aislinn..."

"Shh shh, Hans," she lays a finger against his lips and he doesn't even have the strength to try and bite it off her. "Now, dinner should be ready in about an hour or so." He sits up now, having a clear view of the inside of the house and there's an iron cage across the way. From what he can make out, there is a form inside, laying on it's side and motionless. His heart skips a fast beat. Gretel!

He looks around quickly for Aislinn, but does not see her. Trying to get to his feet, a bit uneasy as he falters along over to the cage before going down on his knees. Hands ripping at the iron bars till he makes them bleed. "Gretel! Gretel!" he shouts a whisper and she stirs. There's a nasty deep gouge in her head and the blood has trickled down the right side of her face and still seems to be doing so. He wants to hit his head against the iron, as this is all his fault, he is to blame for this predicament they are in now. He hears Aislinn returning and he scoots away from the cage.

Time to plan the escape and the kill of a certain witch. "Moved again, Hansel? Can't you stay in one place for long?" He turns and looks at her with tired eyes, trying not to draw attention that he was trying to speak with his sister. She walks up to him and drags him back near the hearth.

"What did you do to Gretel?" the words pass his lips even before he thinks of saying them.

"Hm? Oh, just getting her out of the way. I need you, the most," she smiles, showing now a few sharp teeth in her mouth. "I am getting her out of the way so I can have you all to myself. When I heard the two of your had knocked out my competition, the witch sisters, I was so glad. I knew you had to come down into the town, so I set up my shop. And what spoils you showered upon me." His head snaps up, listening to her carefully now. "Yes, I lead you here to my home, the both of you. Telling you that the town has a witch problem. I knew you would easily fall into that trap. I just didn't know you," she crooks her finger under his chin and makes him look at her as she leans in to steal a kiss from him, "that you would let me in on such a dark person secret."

"You, bitch," he hisses, nipping at her lips and wincing at the burning against his lips and tongue from the crushed chili powder on her lips.

"Oh now now, no need to get so testy with me, Hansel. It's not like I asked for it. You just, told me," she smiles and turns away from him after tapping a finger on the tip of his nose. He feels his insides clench up tightly and feels as if his inner organs are shutting down. Trying desperately gasping for breath, leaning his head down against the hard wood floors of the house, feeling sweat prickling across his skin.

"What...did you do to me?"

"What do you think you've been putting in your body?" she answers back with a cheerful question, smile on her face to see him in such crippling. He turns his head and stares up at her as it dawns on him. He has been indulging her in his greatest weakness, his diabetes. The lack of insulin in his system.

"Ais..."

"Well, since I learned that witch's spell meant to do harm do not effect the two of you," she frowns, "I had to come up with something else. Something more on the lines of magic that will work for me on you. Something that wouldn't look like sudden harm, but slowly work away from the inside out. I have you in my clutches, Hansel. I have been making you inject yourself with that serum every few hours for the past few days, it's worked it's way all through your system. You might as well surrender yourself over to me." She stands strong in front of him, hands on her hips and he feels as if they are not going to make it out of this one alive.

He feels his body being drugged back, lifted and shoved to sit on a chair. Lifting his chin up off his chest and trying to focus his vision as he sees Aislinn reappear. She sets herself in his lap and straddles the sides of his thighs, keeping him close. As she leans her body in and her breast presses firmly against his chest, her hands on his face, thumbs smoothing under his eyes as her lips ravish his mouth. He feels his body betraying him as he feels his cock pushing out hard against the crotch of his leather trousers, wanting to be free of its cage, wanting to be buried deep inside of Aislinn. He's being used; he has always been used. He spots her cleaver not to far from his foot, trying to patch together a plan in his head.

"I can make it so we can live forever, together, Hansel," she whispers against her lips and he tries to draw his head back away from her. "Wouldn't you like that? It's simple, really. We just need to get your bitch of a sister out of the picture," she turns her head and looks back at Gretel in her cage. He takes notices that Gretel is now sitting up and alert, the frown on her face, the glare of hatred in her eyes towards the witch. He hopes she keeps that going, fuel her need to breaking free. No one has ever been able to hold Gretel back, especially not a witch.

They seem to be in a reverse roles from the first witch they encountered and killed. Gretel locked up and he free from any bounds.

"Oh, she's a tough little cookie." Aislinn slides off of him and stands before Gretel's cage, a smile on her lips as she looks her over. "So much fight bottled up inside you. It will do you no good. For this time, the witch wins and the witch slayer looses." She lets out a loud laugh and Hansel cringes back in his chair. "Hansel, say you want to stay with me," she turns around to face him, her hands moving down over her breast, down her stomach to the junction between her thighs. "Tell me, Hansel. Tell me you love me. You wouldn't dare kill a woman with child, now would you?" His head snaps around and his mouth hangs open, eyes wide as he stares at her. "Yes, I am with child." She happily keeps running her hand over her belly and he tries desperately to shake the information out of his head. It must be some sort of trick, it must be. Witches are always pulling tries and trying to get inside your head, tugging on emotions as leeway.

"Hansel?" Gretel asks, her hands clutching at the iron rails of her cage. "Hansel...did you really? Oh gods..." she gags, turning her back on him and he feels the rush of shame and hatred from his own sister. Looking back at the smiling witch.

"It's a lie."

"Not a lie. I am a witch, I would know these sort of things." She turns from him now, pulling an long iron rod out of the hot coals of the fire, approaching him with it outstretched. He winces back in the chair when he takes note that it's a brand, she's going to brand him like cattle as her own and he is paralyzed in this chair, unable to escape. "This won't hurt much. I'll make the pain better afterwards, I promise."

Just as he can feel the heat from the iron prod through the thinness of his night shirt, out of the corner of his eye he sees the door to Gretel's cage fly open and she slips out with ease and coolness. There is a swift movement he can't quite track with his eyes in the following few seconds, until he feels a burning sensation. The brand has dropped out of Aislinn's hand and dropped against his thigh, burning through his leather trousers quickly and searing against his skin. He hisses in pain and tries not howl at the pain, biting on the inside of his check. Watching as Gretel quickly pulls Aislinn back in a headlock.

"What the fuck did you do to my brother, you bitch?" she growls, holding on tightly as Aislinn tries to scramble back. "You messed with his head and you messed with his body. You're going to pay for that. No one takes out a Grimm, especially not a witch." She twists harder while choking Aislinn, her eyes quickly flashing over to Hansel. He mouths to her 'I'm okay,' and tries again to move, getting to his feet this time. Flicking his hand at Gretel to release the witch, then swinging up his right leg quickly with a jab, forcing Aislinn back into the fire.

The flames leap and lap at her flesh, turning an eerie blue and green. Reaching as high as the ceiling before diving back down on Aislinn's writhing body. Engulfing her whole and eating away even at bone, till there is nothing left to fuel the fire. It goes out in a puff of smoke and the room becomes instantly cold.

His knees begin to shake and almost give out underneath him when Gretel reaches out and catches him. Holding him up with her own strength. "We should get out of here."

"I agree," he groans. They gather up their possessions she had stolen from them and he pulls on his trench coat and gun once more.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"The...fire?"

"That was what I kept telling you I was seeing."

"Impossible. We hiked miles in to get here and up a mountain. You couldn't have seen it."

"She said it was in that stuff she was giving me. Visions. I believe that was the heart of the witch, heart of the house."

"I'm never going to forget that one."

"Neither am I," he sighs in relief as they walked down the porch sets.

"Was she telling the truth?"

"What?"

"About...having your baby."

His face heats with a blush and he looks away from her. "I don't know."

"You did smell like witch last week. I was not wrong." Gretel punches him in the arm. "You have lousy tastes in women, Hansel. You should just...stick with me," she stops him, holding his hands as she stands on her tippy toes and kisses him. Still blushing, he draws back with wide eyes, but also with a smile.

"Yeh. I'll stick with you, Gretel. No more falling for witches, that's for sure."