From the tumblr prompt "Imagine your otp playing basketball together. Person B is very talented when it comes to the sport; however Person A is absolutely terrible. Person B tries to cheer up Person A by giving them pointers how to improve their game, and assures them that they'll get better." Tweaked slightly. As in like it went from 200 words to 7000. Bit hard to do when the S, O and enter buttons on your keyboard are sticking. I own nothing.
With the hall being turned into a court complete with chalked borders, it would have been a bit of muddle to move everyone out to bring chairs and long tables in. Not to mention Miss Cackle would have had to unshrink and reinstall the stage and organ without the non-witch opponents seeing. But, no matter, seeing as it was so sunny, it was a good excuse to have food being served outside a brief picnic tea before the Hevershum High girls started on the drive back to their school. Pike had gone to get changed back into her tweed suit and was still somewhat shaken from the experience; an overreaction in Miss Hardbroom's opinion and she'd expected better of the woman. It was only a little bit of magic after all, not like any one was turned into a frog. But the heavies it turned out, crushingly defeated or not, actually quite nice when separated from the coach even their sulking captain with Deborah Debbie Debs even managing to hold an animated conversation with both Mildred and Ethel!
Miss Drill certainly would have beamed with pride. It was after all of the two schools and the two normal rivals getting along as well as the girls sharing an interest in sport something that very rarely happened. No doubt she'd show off how it was the basketball game that brought them together. Only, the coach of the hour wasn't around to see it.
"but- Imogen was here," Bat had dithered when asked as off hand as the younger witch could manage. The little batty woman span in circles looking for her Frienemy in the gaggle of girls. "I'm sure of, I saw her not ten minutes ago. She gave me a hand bringing out the cauldron of brew I mean fruit punch! Fruit punch anyone?"
Constance decided on ignoring Davina's attempt at passing off her culinary skills to the non-witches. She also pretended not to be too concerned or interested at the PE teacher's where about. But she was still volunteered by the headmistress to fetch the blonde before all the sand wedges had gone and didn't argue, grateful for a few moments privacy as she headed back inside to fetch her college and secret lover.
Constance again worried if Amelia somehow knew about her deputy and Imogen, despite the pair's discretion. It was very hard to keep secrets in the Academy after all. You couldn't even dream of keeping skeletons in the staff room cupboard, not with Miss Bat using it as a bunker. But perhaps she was being paranoid. They hadn't been…together that long. That is, if they were together at all. The exact definition was somewhat tricky to grasp at this stage. It had just, sort of happened. They'd gone from shouting at each other to (as the girl would say to put it crudely) shagging each other senseless in the space of a couple of hours one evening. And then that one night had become a regular occurrence. As did the kissing, which Constance surprisingly had become very fond of. Just as she'd surprising become more then fond of the non-witch. the same woman who could relax the witch with just one word and make her so angry with another, and Constance was still struggling to get her head around that or even what they were. "disagreeable colleges who were also lovers on the quiet" didn't fit anymore as even if they weren't sleeping or sleeping-sleeping together every night, they did have to see each other every day but remain professional throughout which made it hard to find a balance as things became more domestic between them. It was romantic yes but certainly wasn't a honey moon period. More getting comfortable with each other. Although…
Since announcing the up-tempo suggestion, their relationship of sorts had been defiantly a little rocky. Old habits are hard to forget, the two were prone to disagreements regarding the girls and two hot headed women would never be able to coexist with some shouting and arguments; but no matter how many excuses you could conjure even Miss Hardbroom would admit she had a nasty streak could run away with her at times. (Admit very begrudgingly yes but that still counts.) She hadn't any faith of the basketball being benifitual to the girls and had unwisely said so. Miss Drill had been in a foul mood with her for a few days. A few days of cutting Constance off instead throwing herself into training the girls, and Constance missed her. She really did. She liked her solitude and being alone but she hated being ousted and lonely. What was it they said about the course of true love? If it hadn't been for last night it might have been hard- well, harder than normal- for Constance to even believe they were still an item.
"Allow me, Miss Drill." Constance had insisted and taking the lantern from Imogen with authority. "I'll take lights out tonight. You clearly need your rest for tomorrow."
Imogen had protested weakly, more out of politeness and stubbornness but then Miss Cackle chimed in she thought it was a capital idea and that Imogen should get an early night. So (Imogen relived,) the teachers headed off from supper in separate directions.
Constance didn't see her lover until after girls were all in bed. As Hardbroom had started on patrolling the second year corridor came the whisper of "HB? Is that you?" from the stairs towards the teachers' quarters. She raised the lantern and was greeted by the sight of Imogen in her nightdress, coming down them stopping on the bottom step, checking the coast was clear.
"Thanks for taking night duty for me, honey." Imogen said quietly as witch came closer.
"It was so you could get an early night not wander around in bare feet." Constance said, making Imogen chuckle. She tentatively reached out for the witch and when Constance stepped into touch she received a sweet kiss on her sharp cheek and a brush fingers through her long hair for her troubles. Constance cherished it quietly, appreciating it as a maybe possibly small sign of forgiveness. Even in the dim candle light Imogen's smile was like sunshine. "Go back to bed, Imogen before catch your death of cold."
"You know could come back to my room after." Imogen said, just as tentatively as she'd offered her hand. It might have just been the sleep in her voice. "I mean, if you'd like too. Obviously."
"I might. But If I do I want you asleep, not pouring over your tactics sheets." Constance had chided. Imogen rolled her eyes. "Go on, bed. Don't wait up."
"Yes Miss Hardbroom-!"
"Cheeky."
"Well goodnight then, if I don't get to say it later." Imogen said, again checking coast was clear before leaning forward, (rather than upon tip toe for a novel change) to tenderly press her lips to Constance's own.
"Goodnight my dear. And-" the witch had held Imogen back as she turned to jog upstairs. "If I don't get a chance to tell you beforehand, good luck for tomorrow." Constance replied to which Imogen beamed. "Not that you need it..."
Miss Hardbroom was wondering if Imogen had noticed her slipping in to bed with her, seeing as the witch had also been the first to rise (They hadn't seen each other much of the morning either); But It was then her thoughts were interrupted by a large amount of noise. With everyone outside the corridors should have been as quiet as a grave but they echoed with a twanging bouncing noise the coupled by the squeak of trainers. A pair of trainers Constance was familiar with. and the sound of bouncing basket balls that reverberated around the castle so often that the residents were hearing it in their sleep so there was no mistaking what was causing that. In the hall Constance found her gym mistress.
Miss Hardbroom, task forgotten, stood in the door way and watched as Imogen's feet pounded the floor, the basketball going from one hand to floor to other hand before launching it into the hoop. The ball bounced once before Imogen caught it and the penalty began again. Imogen scored Shot after shot attacking the court with such focus and drive she could almost be playing a game by herself while barely breaking a sweat. The witch found herself smiling, just a little, at the sight and fought to keep it in check. Next minute she'd be leaning casually against the wall with a love-struck grin on her face and that wouldn't do at all!
Constance might not have actually understood or even cared for the game (or at least not the build-up and Bat's chants), but she had gotten swept along in the excitement as the match had proceeded. And watching Imogen play now, well- Constance was content to watch Imogen play anything for hours but this was the witch decided her new favourite. There and then Constance decided maybe this basketball was good for the school after all. She quietly shut the doors behind her and crossed the hall as quietly as her magic would allow, not wanting to interrupt just yet.
It was very good that Mr Blossom was outside or else he'd have trouble keeping count of Imogen's score and muddling it up. It was quite easy to imagine a younger Imogen in the obnoxious orange and green, a short but still shooting star of the Heavies, dodging faking and whatever other lingo was used in basketball. Although the woman in the tight vest and leggings was much much more pleasing to the eyes. But, just seeing her darling always caused a fluttering of the old heart and Constance let the silly romantic comforting feelings fill her bones and calm her anxious mind. Enchanting even harder and faster, oblivious to the witch watching her. Finally with a high jump that, (as ruby had clumsy demonstrated earlier,) most people would have needed a levitation spell to reach, Imogen slammed the ball through the hole in the basket before dropping to the floor.
"Very impressive Miss Drill," Constance applauded making the blonde gasp and whip around so fast her neck must have clicked. "Why didn't you teach the girls that rather than just having fun?"
"I only just finished the basics." Imogen flushed, annoyed and retrieved the ball as HB approached; her heels now clicking on the floor. "How long have you been stood there?"
"How long have you been hiding in here rather than joining in the celebrations?" Constance fired back catching Imogen on the under chin to get a proper look at her. She had intended to kiss Imogen but her curiosity got the better of her, "Why aren't you out side?"
"Not long enough to warrant a search party." Imogen dropped eye contact and, shrugging off the hand, went back to dribbling and bouncing the ball. "I just wanted- some air."
"So you came indoors?" Constance queried. "Imogen, you are quite the athlete but you are an awful liar."
Imogen didn't reply.
"You're upset." Constance said flatly. It was an observation not a question. Imogen glanced at her but didn't deny it and scored again. "Look, Miss Bat can say what she likes I was not flirting with Pike." The woman might have made a very first impression on her but it had rapidly gone downhill from the staffroom. Especially with that head band.
But the blonde carried on being in a sulk and ignore her. Constance watched as she turned back to the basket, taking in the tight muscles of her tanned arms shoulders her pouting lips and the very very narked off frown despite scoring another two baskets one right after the other.
"…Darling?"
"You know, the Miss Pike I knew would have been appalled at the way that match went." Imogen said bitterly. Constance didn't have a clue what that had to do anything. "Causing fouls was never on in her book when I was at Hevershum."
The ball hit the backboard but Imogen caught it before it hit the ground and scored.
"Well, maybe loosing might make her think about her approach to training -?" Constance suggested stepping in front of the smaller woman but Imogen dribbled around her.
"They train! That's why they're supposed to be so good. They have no need to play rough." Imogen snapped. There was a fierceness in her stride suddenly that took Constance by surprise. "But hey then again this was supposed to be a friendly, it wasn't supposed to matter if they won or lost. Give the girls something to look forward too." The non-witch was now practically battering the ball against the floor but carried on her rant and every time Constance stepped in front of her Imogen dodged. This dizzying dance continued as the tirade did and you almost feel could feel both a headache and full blown argument building up. "I shouldn't have let them carry on I felt awful- you know Pike accused us of cheating? What on earth was I supposed to say too that when I knew we blatantly were? It was horrible just horrible. Even though we won and we scored a few, they still cheated getting to that point in the game."
Constance could barely contain an eye roll. "This is just because the girls used magic, isn't it?"
"No, it's not actually." Imogen said crossly. "It's because YOU used magic!"
"But I- didn't." Constance stammered caught off guard. "Imogen I didn't!"
"I banned them from using magic, It's tricky if it goes wrong not fair on the other team and is just lazy!" Imogen carried on, "It's cheating- the Heavies might be bigger and I know you were doing it for the girls but just because the other team were using rough tactics didn't mean you had to be ready with your fingers in the final minutes!"
"Oh that. I didn't think anyone would even notice." Constance sighed unintentionally admitting it but ignored the looks her maybe-girlfriend threw at her "I didn't actually do anything." She said, pointless really, knowing Imogen wouldn't see it that way. "It was just to give it a nudge if Mildred didn't score. You saw that ball; it was spinning like coin or a whirlwind."
"That's just as bad. It's unsporting and worse," Imogen scowled at her mid shot. Mentioning phenomenon magical weather after last term's disaster wasn't a good idea. "What if the girls had seen you? Or if they have seen you? How do you think the team will feel? How Mildred will feel?"
Constance gave her a withering look her Lips pursed. A small part of Constance arguing those who did think that were stupid girls and treacherous too. Another part agreed with the non-witch.
But that wasn't the point so instead slowly articulating every word Constance tried to make herself heard over the bouncing ball.
"I didn't do anything. Mildred scored, albeit oddly, but without magic. Every one saw. There would be no magical signature for one. Even you and the other non-witches would have seen it if I had and I'll swear on the code if need be that there wasn't. But the girls won fair and square fouls aside: you get another friendly to play, there's a picnic in the yard, Davina's allowed to keep her chanting cheer squad you've made me eat my words on the subject, all's well that ends well and will you stand still when I'm trying to speak to you?!" Constance snapped, finally losing her patience.
With that she vanished reappearing behind the non-witch and swept Imogen up in her arms, holding her around the bare shoulders (pure vanity!) and pulled the younger woman to her, her chest squashed against the shocked Imogen's back. "I am sorry." she said uncharatersitly quiet and calm in almost a whisper, a breath. Imogen was stronger physically and could easily fight against it encompassing hug, especially in this passion. She stiffened however then stilled relaxing a little and begrudgingly let herself be held. Constance's dark eyes swept up Imogen' neck, her pulse, her lips as she turned her pretty and scornful face to before becoming lost in those eyes, just as Imogen searched hers. The two stubborn women stood tangled Nose to nose, chests heaving and noting but angry silence waiting for each other's move. For a breath and a brief lovely moment they were close enough to kiss. And indeed if they had been the stars in one of the awful hetroromantic mills and swoon books Davina wrote for creative writing club in the village, the hero would have just kissed the beloved and all trials would have just melted away.
But instead Imogen suddenly ducked out the embrace the moment HB relaxed her grip. "Take a shot and I Might forgive you."
"Take a what-?" The ball was thrown and bounced up where it hit the floor and Very nearly stuck Constance in the stomach had she not fumbled to catch it. "Why?!"
"Just take a shot already and I'll let it go." The non-witch countered. "I'm not asking you to score, I'm telling you to try." Constance scowled. Imogen scowled back hands on hips and Constance got the impression if she didn't try they she'd be spending more than just a few nights alone in her own bed.
"This is ridiculous." She said instead because it was easier then saying "I'm Sorry" or worse "I don't know how to". So with an over-exadruated sigh she turned to the hoop and lifted ball in one hand by her shoulder like Imogen had done. It couldn't be too hard if the second years could do it? She thought and tossed it in to the air. But she felt the ball slip slightly from her hand before she even threw it. Even if it had been the right height it would have been many degrees out but it was far too low to even hit the board bouncing off the back wall instead with a dull thud and rolled along the floor. It was, in short a pathetic attempt.
Constance stood motionless bar the hands dropping to her sides and Cheeks a flame. She hated being bad at anything. It didn't matter that it was just a silly ball game that didn't even need magic or that she didn't need to score, it still felt awful. What made it worse was Imogen didn't still smile or give any encouraging claptrap or lie about it being a good attempt. Instead she just sauntered over to where the ball had come to a standstill (Constance didn't even notice the sway of her hips as she did so. Much.)
"Here," Imogen said and lightly tossed it back to the witch with ease. Ease the witch didn't catch it with. "Try again."
"Why should I?" Constance refused and threw it back. It was another bad throw; even the PE teacher very nearly didn't catch it. "I 'took a shot at it' like you asked."
"To humour me." Imogen shrugged. "And you seem pretty put out you missed it."
"I'm not. Now stop messing around and come outside. Miss Cackle will be wondering where we are."
"Let her wonder. We don't give up do we HB?" Imogen tut-tuted in annoyingly in a sing song voice dropping the ball in HB's hands as she brushed past. "Put a bit more power into it this time?"
Constance did as she was told that time and tossed it carelessly over her shoulder without looking. The ball with a swish of wind sailed majestically as high as the ceiling beams and spiralling into the other basket at the other end of the hall, scored.
Imogen was unimpressed. "Not that kind of power."
"Humour me." Constance Echoed, one hand raised with her fingers casting toying with Imogen as she tried retrieving the ball again. she had to jump a couple of times to get hold of it for mid-air and quite possibly In frustration at the witch, one she got hold of it she hurled it back at Constance's smug face. The ball froze in mid-air again inches from the witches nose. Constance leaned around it to give her girlfriend a "look" that could have boiled cauldrons and frozen pipes at the same time from twenty paces before sending the ball orbiting in lazy circles around them. "Humour me." She repeated. "I took not one but two shots as you asked now forget about it as you promised and come outside."
"You're as bad as the girls!" Imogen muttered, snatching it out of the air again.
"I am not." Miss Hardbroom very offended, "and we're witches remember? Of course we use magic. Trying to ban the girls from using to try and teach anything doesn't work remember?"
Imogen took a few deep deep calming breaths before she argued back as controlled as she could. "Yes I know you're witches. And no I haven't forgotten how we all nearly froze because of the Fosters effect. But they didn't need to use it for the match. My point is what happens if they used to using magic to get whatever they every time?"
Tennis, was a completely different ball game but Constance realised Imogen had won this round; "what's to stop them using it for selfish and trivial purposes?"
Game; "Where's the challenge? What's the point otherwise?"
Set; "How are they going to manage outside of school if they can't learn to do even simple things for themselves?"
And match; "isn't that what we both keep trying to teach them?"
"Alright alright you've made your point! Give me the ball." Constance huffed and Guilty snatched it from Imogen. "But if any one walks in now, I'll never hear the end of it you know."
She was going to live to regret this she was sure but for the sake and good of her relationship she lined up for another awful take. She tried going for a different approach this time and held the ball up to her chest as she seen the girls do in netball. Well, Basketball didn't seem too different. Just a tad more violent if how the Hevershum girls played it was correct. She closed her eyes not wanting to see how bad it would be. But before she did throw however she felt Imogen place a hand on the top of the ball to stop her.
"You don't need to use a chest pass Constance." She said quietly. "You've the height to shoot from here."
The Cracked an eye open to glare at her. "I didn't understand a word of that, try again in English." Imogen had moved directly in front of her now. Rather stupid thing to do, Constance thought. If she had thrown the dratted ball she'd have caught the woman in the nose and Imogen have compared it to the Door and clown nose incident. Imogen rolled her eyes but the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile that at least to Constance was quite adorable. If the witch ever used that word.
"Well first having your head up, and eyes open so you can see where you're aiming for helps. A chest pass is- well, is more for passing. Or if you're shorter or if you're too close to the basket so you don't need to have it tucked under your chin. Have the ball about here and sssttrreetch your arms out a little." Imogen coaxed, adjusting the witch's chin, arms and grip with the most delicate and quick of touches, as is she might burn the witch to place a hand on her person without permission for too long. "Spread your hands out, fingers as wide as you can, like this and don't use your palms, Use your fingertips." Rather than letting go this time however Imogen's hand rested just on top of the witch's, a thumb brushing over Constance's paler fingers and rather dreamy look suddenly on her face "you've beautiful hands by the way."
"Miss Drill, are you actually coaching me or is this just an excuse for you to shamelessly flirt?"
"Both?"
"Is 'both' good?" It came out a little suggestive then she'd meant it to and Constance wasn't sure if she was mocking Imogen or herself flirting. She got her answer though when Imogen, with darkened vailed eye, Stepped closer, dangerously close so only the basketball was between them.
"Why, Miss Hardbroom do you think everyone gets this much attention from me? I just thought you'd appreciate more friendly, hands on approach?" challenged with cheek and raised eyebrows. Constance couldn't help but both blush and smirk to herself a little at that, and too giddy and gay to complain as Imogen move behind her.
"And what do I get if I do score?" Constance asked, pressing back lightly against Imogen's touch.
"Well HB…" Imogen murmured, leaning in and Constance could feel her body tighten against the fabric of her dress, Imogen's lips and breath against her ear as she whispered: "You have to actually score first." And then with that Imogen stepped back and carried on coaching if nothing had happened, much to HB's annoyance!
"You want your elbows up. Higher, but in." Imogen instructed lightly guiding her arms as before more firmly this time. Constance granted her the touches even on her hips to move her position despite the put out frown on her face. "Bend your knees slightly. You don't have to jump like you would in a game but You need your legs and core to get the ball up, don't make your arms do all the work."
Her Body was pressed to hers again, not in any seduction attempt. But it still made the witch's Throat dry her and mind muddle as the butterflies took hold, and the only clever comment she could come out with was "You make it look much simpler."
"This from the witch who can fly and make potions." Imogen said and with a sudden kiss on the cheek that almost made Constance drop the ball in surprise. "That's for luck. Don't think about it too hard and don't look at the ball..." Imogen smirked resting her chin on the witches shoulder and continued coaching her. But Constance hadn't taken in a word the blonde had said; something a launching, hyper extending arms and it all being in the wrist for some and legs for others. She certainly got more attention from Imogen then her students!
"And when you're ready to shoot go for it." Imogen finished pulling away just enough to let Constance manover although the hands stayed on her hips. There was a pause then Imogen realised the witch was staring at her. "…Constance, You should be looking at the basket."
"Should I?"
And Imogen said nothing despite the mild look of surprise, just gave her witch a wink, which made it even harder to concentrate on the task in hand. Hyper sensitive to Imogen's heart beat and her fingers as she reached across gently tipping the witches chin up again. Constance closed her eyes a moment at the touch and took a deep shaky breath, and when Imogen removed her hand as per instructed took careful aim and threw the ball. In a seemingly graceful ark it sailed, high and the right distance. Imogen cheered, bouncing, galvanised, punching the air and Constance smiled a self-satisfied smile. It was on target and it might actually even go in-
It didn't.
Worse it didn't miss either, but with dull noise wedged its self on the edge of the basket. There was a beat. Then Imogen Spluttered in an attempt at Trying not to laugh and failed miserably.
"How? How do witches keep doing weirdly impossible shots? Even without magic?" Imogen asked laughing so hard she had use Constance as a support. The witch stood there feeling sour and foolish. Stupid ball should have gone through the stupid basket! That was the whole purpose of its existence and aim of the sport!
"I'm going to have to ask Frank to double check that hoop." Frowned up at the offending ball sat stubbornly on the edge of the basket, still chuckling in disbelief "you're the second person this week to do that." Constance didn't reply just clench her fists in to stop herself blasting the ball in frustration. It would have been preferable to miss rather than this farce of a score and she glared at the ball willing it to go in and save face without having to use her magic. "Maybe it's fastened on at the wrong angle either that or you've more in common with Mildred Hubble then you think."
"She didn't?!" the witch shrilled. Imogen nodded. "Oh for the love of-!"
It was one thing to be bad at basketball. It was another in Miss Hardbroom's book to be bad at basketball and the compared to the worst witch in the academy! Constance didn't get a chance to be furious or upset or a mixture of the two however as a slit second later Imogen had span her around to face her, looped her arms around her witch in a bear hug on tip toe to drop a kiss on the witches cheek with an over the top "MMM-wah!" for effect.
"And thanks. For supporting the team." The smaller woman said and hugged her tight. The same woman who could make Constance so angry with just one word and please her with another. Well, please and bemuse. Constance stunned and a bit baffled returned the embrace as best she could with her arms pinned to her sides. Imogen might not be a witch but her hugs at least were magic and could cure almost anything; and as Constance settled in her arms suddenly Felt a lot better about her inability to win a game she didn't need to be good at and far more relaxed then she had been for a while. They cuddled closer and the witch held her beloved swaying the littlest little with their Bodies pressed together, a good fit despite the height difference. Failure aside she was quite content with the world and how events so far today had panned out And was in no rush to leave the court any time soon..
"I'll leave the sporting heroics to you I think." She mumbled Imogen's hair and slid arm free to brush her fingers along Imogen's jaw. The blonde leant into the touch and even though she couldn't see it Constance could feel her grin.
"You cover the magical heroics then." Imogen said as she nuzzled at her neck, tickling the skin not covered by the high collar. "And you tried your best, that's all that matters. That's all I ask of our girls."
"In that case I think I'll try my best at just being a spectator." Constance chuckled. "Providing it's you I get to watch of course."
"That's not the attitude to have, sweetheart."
"Oh?" But Imogen had meant regarding the sport.
"You get better with experience obviously and it gets easier you keep practicing the drills." Imogen shrugged. Constance pulled back and gave her a look, not quite certain if she'd heard right. Imogen snickered, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "That wasn't an innuendo by the way; I was talking about keep practicing basketball. Get your mind out of the gutter. Unless you want to keep practicing me of course?"
"Now that was grammatically incorrect and dentally a double entundra." Constance teased. Imogen's reply Just a cheeky wink, her gaze falling to the witches mouth. She licked her lips and leaned in smiling smile that dam smile and pretty green eyes Constance had fallen so head over hobnailed boot heels for. They were Nose to nose again, lost in those eyes. For a breath at least and when she closed her eyes, and then those pink lips were on her own. Who had kissed who Constance didn't care and she wasn't keeping score. Maybe the heat had gotten too her. Or maybe it was just Imogen getting to her. Either way Constance became lost in the kiss; the fluttering lips eyelashes and heart beats. Normally Imogen could be Playful and deliberately annoying, ducking and dancing back to wind up her witch but Constance didn't let her go, determined To kiss her good and properly after what felt like far too long since she'd last done so, Cupping her cheek pressed fully up against her. The kiss deepened, parting lips mouths in full motion. Unable to goof around, Imogen teased instead, gently nipped at and ran her tongue across Constance's lower lip, succeeding in making the older woman want more.
This wasn't like their good night kiss display of affection. This was Greedy, Competitive, sensational and rather Bold considering they were in the middle of the school hall in broad day light. Even counting the thick woods it was certainly the most open space they'd made out in. Imogen was on tiptoe trying to keep her balance and nearly tottered over if the witch hadn't Stooped to her lovers height and placed her hands momentarily on Imogen's hips and peachy backside, pulling her to her again despite Constance herself nearly tumbling because Her legs turned to jelly when Imogen arched against her, hands tracing her curves.
At Some point, Constance's hair tumbled down to her waist, un braiding to the long pony tail and Imogen's vest top had ridden inappropriately high up her toned figure. But when those things actually happened neither had a clue to tell if asked. Imogen ensnared all her senses and the younger woman was bewitched by her Constance. They could be in the middle of a match or an assembly and the lovers would have carried on kissing, as bad as a pair of teens behind the bike or in this case broom sheds, oblivious to everything but each other. Their moans Murmurings, demands and sweet nothings were quiet enough at least but Constance swore she heard the word 'love' and at once kissed Imogen harder to shut her up, tugging on her hair. She hadn't banked on Imogen to pull away and Kiss up her neck along her jaw and back on her lips or how the athlete's collarbone under her fingers would make her gasp.
It's all Arms around each other, hands running over the tight clothing and fingers running though hair. Lipsticks smudged and blended leaving marks everywhere. Nails grazing over the fabric, Hands Cupping feel shoulders back breasts waits hips and backsides, squeezing pleasing and anchoring hold where ever they could wet lips kissing all the while.
Considering that Constance had a very good pair of lungs on her (all the better for shouting at pupils with) and Imogen was, amongst her many sporting interests, a keen swimmer; it was a while before they came up for air, Chests heaving and panting a though they'd played a full game of basketball between them. Time out to huddle, cuddle and get their breath back.
"What was that for?" Constance murmured breaking the quiet, feeling quite light headed. "I didn't score."
"Oh I think you have, Honey Bear" Imogen, all giddy, blushed and laughed, giving her witch another gentler squeeze. "Not a basket but defiantly scored! And besides, Amelia got a hug out of you. Seems only fair I got a celebratory kiss at least."
"Darling you'll get much more-" Constance promised on the rush of endorphins and swooped in suddenly to kiss and gently suck the spot on Drill's neck that always made the blonde pant without running a marathon. The smaller woman was stunning and was both stunned and delighted with that statement and actions. The witch would have liked very much to pin Imogen up against the wall and continue their little games right there beneath the hoop and ball that had caused so much trouble.
But much to Imogen's confusion, Constance took her hands in her own and had to make do with a chaste little kiss on the lips.
"But later I'm afraid..." She said With a sigh in frustration and nodded over Imogen's shoulders towards the double doors as the sound of running excitable footsteps drew nearer, echoing in the corridors. Very familiar excitable feet.
"Miss Drill? Miss Drill-!"
"Something wicked this way runs." Miss Hardbroom complained, "And intent on finding you so I can't take us to bed." Imogen had followed her gaze, now turned back to her and with an understanding nod stole another quick kiss before she made put a safe and suitable distance between them.
"Not yet anyway." She mumbled. Constance held her back just for seconds longer however and sorted their appearances with a spell. "Cheat." Imogen smirked and only dropped the witches hand and loving gaze just in time before Mildred Hubble practical barred through the doors.
"Miss Drill Miss Drill-!" She all bar shouted then skidding to a halt looking from one teacher to another thinking she'd interrupted an adult conversation.
Speak of the devil and she'll appear Constance thought and snapped, "Must you be at the source of every ruckus Mildred Hubble? What have I told you about running in the halls? And your laces?"
"Yes miss, sorry miss." Mildred blushed under the barrage of rhetorical questions.
Miss Drill plastered on that reassuring sunny smile of hers and came to the girls rescue, "It's alright Mildred. Just do them up before you trip, now what can I do for you- you both?" she amended as Miss Pike came into view following reluctantly in behind the worst witch, her jacket askew and gripping her bag for dear life. In Constance's scrutinising view, Next to the glowing now freshened up (albeit a little flushed) Imogen, she seemed a lot older now and looked somewhat pathetic. Very unimpressive.
"Miss Cackle asked me to see where you were, Miss-And when I came in Miss Pike was looking for you too but had got lost." Mildred volunteered (more to the floor, as she set upon doing up her shoes,) unaware Pike's wince as her pride had taken another poke in the ribs. The old trout cleared her throat interrupting the girl.
"Yes thank you Hobble. Now I know the match got off to a false start, Drill but looking at the team you have done well with them considering." She admitted in almost a mumble. "I wouldn't have expected anything less from a Hevsherum gal."
It wasn't high praise but Imogen looked as if she'd won the lottery hearing those words. Judging by the twitch of feet, she was restraining from jumping with joy too but said modestly, "Thank you Ms Pike. It's been …an experience certainly."
Constance too felt her heart Swell with Pride at Imogen's achievement. Which was ridiculous, it was just the second years throwing and running but it was important to Imogen. Even if was a silly game. As the non-witches moved on to discussing the next 'friendly' Constance remembered she wasn't the only one listening in. and that Imogen wasn't the only in need of congratulations. There is only so much a coach and teacher no matter how good can do after all.
"Mildred?" Constance said, and turned back to the girl who was still fumbling with the laces of her plimsolls. Mildred looked up expecting trouble but would be surprised. "Well done on today. I'm glad you're succeeding in one of your lessons. Even if it is Basketball."
Mildred beamed at that. Constance thought if she smiled any more her face might split and break.
"Thank you, miss!" the gangly girl grinned getting up.
"Anyway the bus is getting ready to leave." Pike said suddenly as if she had bigger fish to fry then stand here in the hall all day.
"I'll see you out." Imogen offered. Constance Picked the fleece jacket from the bench passed it to the younger woman and was rewarded with a brush of hands and a discreet wink as Imogen slipped it on and walked along side Pike. Constance tried not to ogle her lover's backside too much but was distracted as Mildred tugged on her sleeve and shyly whispered to her form tutor as quietly as a bull elephant "and Miss? Thank you for having a backup plan."
"Yes, well." She really had been too obvious if Imogen AND Mildred spotted her. "I don't know what you're talking about turns out it wasn't needed anyway. You did it by yourself. Again, well done. You've done Cackles proud for a change." Constance had been wrong, that smile could and did get wider. Judging by the dazzling grin the non-witch gave her over her shoulder she must have heard her too. It was like talking to a pack of Cheshire cats, the witch thought as Mildred dashed ahead, opened the side door and Stood back to let her teachers and guest exit the hall.
"You know Miss Hardbroom I think you'd be really good at basketball! And I mean 'tall is relative' but you've the height for it."
HB gave both her pupil and her now chortling lover a warning look. Normally Constance would have also given the girl a hundred lines of I must not be cheeky and or over familiar with my teachers, but as she passed her, Mildred frowned at something in the hall behind her teacher. "How'd that get back up there?"
Constance Turned back around to find Mildred was looking up at the basket and the still wedged ball. Of all the people it was Mildred that had spotted her awful shot it had to be Hubble. Scowling and with more aggression the necessary, Constance walloped it with a summoning spell. The ball finally went through the basket as it was supposed to and with bounce on the floor span through the open door and into her hands twirling expertly, although it bobbed in the air a little.
"Told you'd be really good, miss!" Mildred giggled then froze in horror. Constance for the second time in a minute followed her gaze. Miss Pike had seen the whole thing. If gibber was a way to describe the look on the woman's face, then Pike was very gibbered.
Constance Quickly palmed the evidence off to Mildred and sent her to join her friends in sending off the guests. Pike followed in a very brisk walk as if she didn't leave now she'd be netted and snapped up as catch of the day.
Imogen turned back, confused. Before she could say anything Constance shrugged and hurried away in the other direction, Aware she might have sent Pike into a meltdown if she vanished from view. And if Imogen found out she'd used more magic on the basketball? It'd certainly put her in an unfair foul temper.
/
FYI- this story is a lot more fun if you reread it and pretend every "shot" is a shot of sours.