I caught myself doing the "I can't post anything unless I proofread/revise it to death" thing again, which is almost never a useful thing, so I'm breaking what was going to be a longer chapter into two smaller ones so I can get something up here. Here's part one of Anya as Tara's fairy godmother. It's really fun to write her like that, actually. Playing Anya off of other characters is a blast, and I always thought that she and Tara would get along well. Enjoy!

Impossible Things
Part Two: The Fairy Godmother

The girl, Anyanka, stood between her and the fire, backlit by the flames so that she appeared almost sinister. Regardless, her stature was unthreatening, and her tone was oddly cheerful.

"Hi there. So, you need a wish granted, right?" She cocked her head slightly, waiting for Tara to recover enough to respond. After several seconds of stunned silence, Anyanka raised her eyebrows at her. "Come on, I don't have all day."

"W-What... What are you? Where did you come from?" Tara gasped once she found her voice.

"I'm Anyanka, but you can call me Anya. I'm your fairy godmother." She gave a winning smile. Tara didn't want to argue with the girl who had appeared from nowhere, but something about that statement didn't seem likely.

"You don't look like a fairy godmother. You look younger than me. A-and human," she pointed out.

Anya rolled her eyes and turned a circle. When she faced Tara again, the blonde recoiled. Anya's face now had a raw, reddish-pink hue and was creased with a web of unnatural lines and wrinkles. Her eyes were set deep into her skull and her gaze burned into Tara like fire. Her amulet glowed a blinding green.

"How's that? Better?" Her voice had deepened into something layered and inhuman. "And, for your information, I'm over a thousand years old, thank you very much. So have a little respect for your elders."

Tara, who now cowered back in the chair, nodded fervently.

"O-okay. I'm sorry. Really sorry. Really."

Anya turned around again, and then her human face was back on, wearing a tired expression.

"It's fine. Whatever. I'm used to it. That whole 'fairy' thing is kind of misleading." She took a moment to straighten her hair and brush off her clothes. "So, I see you're crying here all alone. What can we do about that?"

Tara rubbed self-consciously at the bruise on her arm.

"Well, it's my family…" she started. Anya's face lit up.

"Great! Do you need one of them tortured? Eviscerated? Set on fire? Turned into a snake? Castrated? Forced to–"

Before she could continue into more gruesome suggestions, Tara interrupted, eyes wide with horror.

"W-What?! No! I don't want to hurt anyone! What kind of fairy godmother are you?!"

Anya sighed, shaking her head.

"Oh, you're one of those types. Too bad. I do so enjoy the vengeance fantasies." She got a wistful look in her eyes. It gave Tara a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"You know, I'm actually feeling a lot better. I don't think I need a fairy godmother right now. I can just suck it up and wait for the next one…" she started, inching away from Anyanka. The ancient girl rolled her eyes and took a step closer.

"Oh, don't be like that. I'm not like a genie or anything. I'm not going to trick you, or have your wishes backfire or anything. I'm really here to help."

Her voice was sincere enough that Tara paused her plans to run away, but she still took a long moment to search Anya's face.

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically. Anya waved a hand.

"Yes, yes, I'm sure." She snapped her fingers and an ottoman dragged itself out of a corner. She sat down on it and gave Tara an expectant look. "So, what's the problem?"

Tara still wasn't sure this was really happening, or that Anya would really be able or willing to help her, but she did kind of want to tell someone about the terrible turns her life had taken recently. Even if all Anya could offer was sympathy, it would be more than anyone else had given her. After a deep breath, she began to speak.

"When my mother was alive, everything was great. She was kind and sweet and she loved me, and my father loved both of us. Everything was fine." She had to pause briefly as tears filled her eyes. "But she died a few years ago, and my father got really mean. He married my aunt, Mom's sister. She and my cousin are horrible. They use me like a servant because my aunt thinks I'm part demon."

Anyanka perked up at this. She leaned forward and began inspecting Tara, poking and prodding at her. Tara even thought she might be sniffing her. One of Anya's fingers found the bruise on her arm, and Tara jerked back with a yelp.

"Stop that!" she demanded, now deeply confused. She half-wondered if Anya was just some crazy person who had snuck in while she wasn't paying attention. But then the floating ottoman would be harder to explain. Anya leaned back again, looking faintly disappointed.

"Well, I'm sure you'll be pleased to know that there's not a drop of demon blood in you. It'd be interesting if there were, but I'm afraid you're just as human as everyone else. You've got a little magic in you, though, so that's good. Makes wish-granting a lot easier if there's already something to work with."

Tara looked down her hands in surprise. Had she inherited her mother's abilities?

"My mom was a healer, before she…" Her voice drifted off as the grief struck her again, but Anya continued talking.

"Great. Healing's fine, but revenge is more fun. Anyway, before you ask, I can't raise the dead. That's a huge magic no-no. But, if you want, I can do all kinds of things to punish your stepmother and sister. In fact, I'll take care of both of them in one wish, no extra charge! Heck, I'll even throw in your father! Would you prefer castration or evisceration? Personally, I'm fond of both, but–"

"No! I don't want anyone eviscerated! I just want… I want…" She actually had to stop and think about what she wanted. Ideas passed through her head. Her mother back. Her father the way he was. Her step-family to be kind. A friend… "Love." She said finally, her voice an embarrassed whisper.

Anyanka nodded understandingly.

"Everyone does. All humans, anyway."

"I'm guessing it's not that simple."

Anya shrugged.

"It's both way simpler and way more complicated than that. Give me something to work with, though, and we'll see. Something on a smaller scale. What do you want tonight?"

Tara looked down at her hands again. They were tired and cramped, and her fingertips were red from being chafed by thread and pricked by needles. Those hands had helped her cousin go to the ball, where she would probably have the greatest night of her life, dancing around the castle with all the other girls. And the prince, too, she supposed.

She imagined what it would be like to be there at the ball. The luxury of the castle, and the beauty of it. Gardens full of blooming flowers and tall trees, vines creeping up the castle walls. Hundreds of girls, with nothing to do but explore the grounds and talk to one another while they waited on the prince. Girls who weren't her cousin or stepmother. Girls who wouldn't know her at all, and so wouldn't know that they should either ignore her or treat her like something they stepped in. As far as they would know, she was just a normal girl with a normal life who maybe could be their normal friend. Suddenly, she knew what she wanted.

"I want to go to the ball." At Anya's arched eyebrow, she explained. "Everyone will be there. People who don't even know me. A-and I could talk to them. Maybe I could make friends with them." She checked her optimism just a little. "And even if they don't want to talk to me, then at least I would get to see the castle. It's supposed to be really beautiful."

Anya gave her a long, calculating look.

"And the prince will be there, right?"

Tara had forgotten about him.

"Um, yeah, I guess. I think he's supposed to pick a bride there. I don't know why. You'd think he'd want a princess or something."

"Are you invited?" Anya asked.

"Everyone is," Tara answered, nodding. "Well, all girls of marrying age."

"Okay, then that should be easy enough." Anya raised a hand to tap her chin thoughtfully. "I guess we do need to hide your face, though, if your family will be there."

"It's a masquerade," Tara added. Anya grinned delightedly.

"Even easier! Man, I wish all wishes were this easy!"

"It's not easy," Tara insisted. "I don't have any way of getting there, a-and I don't have anything to wear! I would need a dress, a-and shoes, and a carriage, and–"

Anyanka waved her off dismissively.

"Don't be silly. That stuff's a cinch. Then again…" She gave Tara a long, critical look. "If we want you to meet your true love tonight, we're going to need to step things up a notch."