II

Darrin was unable to sleep.

While Elizabeth Taylor, or Sam, or whoever she was, seemed to take the situation in stride as if this sort of thing happened all the time (and maybe for witches it did), Darrin just couldn't get ahold of himself.

He awkwardly changed his pajama top in front of Sam, or Ms. Taylor, only to feel silly as Samantha sharply suggested that if he felt so insecure with her he should just change in the restroom- which he did. And then came the period of him brushing his teeth and talking to himself, rambling that no matter who she looked like on the outside, she was his wife for better or worse. He felt a little better after that, up until he stepped back into the bedroom and discovered Sam leisurely sipping a random alcoholic beverage in bed. His eyes popped out of his skull, and when he squeaked her name, she immediately whipped the glass away, quickly explaining that she didn't know what came over her and that she just had an urge for a sip of brandy.

"That was no sip! That was a glass!" Darrin said loudly.

Sam narrowed foreign eyes at him, eyes that changed in color and hue, with not only dangerous sex appeal but powerful witchcraft, "Did you just yell at me?"

Darrin gulped, not quite used to this feistier version of Sam. He quickly stood upright, shaking his head no, his fear evident.

Sam slowly leaned back in their bed, and for the first time he noticed her attire- a silk, pinkish-white nightie with a white fur. Her slender body a bit shorter than what he was used to, her dark hair completely throwing him off and reminding him of Serena instead of famed actress Elizabeth Taylor. And there was something else, a light trace of perfume lurking about the room.

Darrin didn't like this one bit.

He wanted Sam, not some Hollywood actress.

He wanted the girl he married, the one with her reassuring voice, blond locks, twinkling eyes, a mischievous yet compassionate character, and that nose that was hauntingly majestic. It was not only where most of her power was personified from, but was strikingly adorable in the right light.

"Good." Sam said, leaning back smiling from ear to ear. After a brief moment however, she blinked profusely and quickly sat back up, confused, "Darrin, what just happened?"

Darrin, by the bed, pouted almost like a chastised child, "You got upset with me." He then said, his voice suddenly alive and upset, "You've never done this before, Sam! You've never drank in bed- except on our honeymoon! And you've never treated me the way you just did! Something's going on with you!"

"Stop whining!" Sam suddenly snapped, her head turned at him, "I am the one with the 'side-effect', not you, Darrin!"

"Yes, but how am I going to explain this to everyone!?" Darrin shouted, his palms up toward the sky as if asking an ethereal force 'why me?'

"I didn't realize we were having company over! Did you send them an invitation or something?!" Sam snapped again, this time rising to her feet, the white fur sloshing around her thin shoulders.

Darrin pointed at her, "And what's with this dressy clothes at bedtime?! We are decent people, not porn stars!"

Sam said coldly, her voice dropping an octave, "Perhaps I just wanted to feel sexy. You always want me dumped me in plain pajamas and then you turn on your side, your back to me! Maybe I just wanted some goddamn attention!"

Darrin blinked, confused as to what he was hearing, "What?"

After a moment, Sam took a step back, her checks burning and her breathing suddenly quickening, "My Stars, Darrin I'm so sorry. I have no idea where this temper is coming from!" Her eyes darted away in embarrassment, "I'll change, of course." With a snap on her fingers, her usual green plaid pajamas were on.

Darrin didn't even want to bring up the fact that she used her witchcraft.

He decided that it was best just to let that slide, especially in the current state they seemed to be in, which was at each other's throats.

He stared at her, the woman that was completely different on the outside and changing on the inside. He tried to joke, "Remember when you were a kid and you'd be fighting with your teenaged crush out in a public place, and you would get so wrapped up in the argument, you forgot other people were there. And you would be yelling and screaming, causing a big commotion and when you suddenly realized people were staring at you funny, you'd awkwardly lie 'we're rehearsing in a play'! But, I think people knew… there was no play."

Sam didn't say a word.

Darrin shrugged, offering up a small smile, "I bet ours would be Taming of the Shrew? Get it?"

"Are you calling me a shrew?" Sam asked, her voice both confused and insulted.

"No!" Darrin said quickly, "It's just that Elizabeth Taylor was in that movie, and that movie was a play! I thought it would be funny, comparing those days and now-"

"Darrin, I'm 500 years old. We never said that line when I was growing up." Sam said flatly, her tone now with a sudden edge to it.

Darrin's mouth let his surprise roll out, "500? I thought 300!"

"Well, I'm older than I look." Sam said curtly.

After another tense pause, Darrin reached over and grabbed his blankets and pillow, "I'm sleeping downstairs tonight. We obviously can't be in the same room right now."

"You're leaving me?" Sam said softly, "You're always leaving or getting upset with me."

Darrin said loudly, obviously for Sam to hear but made it out as if he were speaking to himself, "I can't be in the same room with an ego as big as Ms. Liz Taylor's!"

"My ego? What about yours? I'm always catering to it! Always with the last minute dinners for clients, always with the cracks about my family, always about my witchcraft being something to be hidden and ashamed of inside the privacy of our own home!"

Just as he was about to walk out the bedroom door, Darrin turned around and told Sam, "I knew letting you read 'Feminine Mystique' was a bad idea."

Before he had time to reach for the doorknob, Samantha gave a slight twitch of her foreign nose and the door slammed by itself, narrowly missing Darrin's foot in the process. He shouted out something about missing him, and thundered down the stairs to his study.

Where he was at currently. He was tucked on the green couch, his lower back throbbing from the stiffness of the board, and his neck aching terribly. But even in such a state, he would be able to coax himself to sleep.

But he couldn't this time.

He had Sam crowding his thoughts, and Elizabeth Taylor upstairs in his bedroom.

::

The next morning was, of course, awkward.

Neither had spoken a word about the night before.

And the only one who found any levity in the situation was Tabitha, who had sat in her high chair and clapped, giggling, "Mommy funny!"

"Yes, honey." Darrin murmured, "Mommy is wearing a disguise." At this, Sam flashed him an irritated look and threw his breakfast at him. The eggs were too salty and the toast was partially burnt, but decided it was best not to mention it.

He made it to work, his mind on his wife and her face. He looked over some ads, but his heart wasn't really in it. Sam told him she would contact Bombay again, to see if there was any change in curing the side-effects.

And so he left it at that.

Soon Larry entered his office, his charm and greedy happiness almost enough for Darrin to choke on given the circumstances. He sat on the edge of Darrin's desk, overlooking his best advertising man.

And as usual, Larry made a snide remark about a new secretary or two, talked about how bad his own wife, Louise, could cook, and then went on and on about a new client- Mr. Dittman. Apparently this man, who had made his fortune on men's cologne, had a new fragrance- for women. Dittman wasn't sure how to market it, and asked the well-received advertising company, McMann and Tate for help in marketing to women, particularly ages 18-35. Larry explained to Darrin that Dittman wanted to fragrance be more for a 'mature' woman, but stressed that it should also be youthful. The 'fine line', so to speak between when the girl blossomed into a young woman, but not before the young woman became middle-aged.

Larry then told Darrin, a smile plastered to his face, "So naturally I proposed you should take it, Darrin! You're young-ish. You were on the singles scene more recently than I! And besides, Sam's a better cook than Louise, we can all just swing by your place for a wonderful little dinner party and we can snag Dittman's account!"

Darrin looked up from work, his thoughts on Sam so much that he hadn't heard a word Larry said. Feeling rather stupid at tuning out his boss, Darrin nodded, "Um, yeah… ok."

Larry clapped his hands and jumped off Darrin's desk, "So it's settled then! Dinner tonight at the Stephen's! And don't worry about the Bennet account, I'll get Henry to work on it! Mrs. Bennet already has the utmost trust in our company since we so successfully ran those commercials for Bennet's Boney Dog Treats! So we can cancel that dinner meeting for next week-"

Darrin blinked, his heart jumping in his chest as he jumped up, "Wait one second! What's going on here?!"

Larry told him, "You just agreed to dinner tonight at your place with Dittman. And I don't have to remind you Darrin, this man is worth five hundred thousand dollars! That's half a million! We need this account!"

Darrin twitched, "We can't! I mean, Sam's sick! She has a cold, poor thing!"

"Well she better get un-sick or you'll be out of a job!" Larry told him coldly before heading out the door.

:::

Endora just shook her head, "Out of all the dumbest things… Samantha, I am telling you, this will not work."

Sam was staring at her reflection in the mirror in the foyer, concentrating her best as she twitched. Perhaps, she had thought, if she focused on her former face as best as she could, she could twitch it up. But so far, for every twitch, her face remained that of Elizabeth Taylor's.

Endora had stopped by, sensing her daughter's distress from the cosmos. She sat in the living room sofa, idly reading through a magazine, "Samantha, I am telling you, you are only wasting your energy. Just sit down and, oh looky here!" The last three words dripped in condescendence.

Sam walked over to her mother, "Oh what now, mother?"

Endora held up the magazine, a double page spread of Elizabeth Taylor in front of Sam. Endora then smiled wickedly, "You're a double spread!" She then let out a cackle. Sam could only roll her eyes, "Oh mother! Now's not the time for-"

The phone interrupted her thoughts. She picked up, "Hello? Stephen's residence."

"Samantha?"

Sam paused before saying quickly, "Who's this?"

"It's Louise Tate! Larry just phoned me about dinner at your place! Y'know I just hate it when the boys make plans like this without consulting us… and by the way, you sound very peculiar."

Sam coughed, "I-I got a sore throat. Nothing too bad, but-"

"Anyway, don't worry about dinner! I know that this Mr. Dittman just adores turkey sandwiches with olive dressing. Though desert might be trickier. His favorite is chocolate, peanut butter pie- yuck. I don't know any restaurants who serve it, but it's what my research on him claims he likes."

Sam sucked in her breath, "Dinner? Here? Now? Oh my stars!"

"Anyway, Jonathan just woke up from his nap, so I must run! Just remember- turkey sandwiches with olive dressing, chocolate and peanut butter pie and wine! He just adores white wine! Now, ta-ta for now!"

The line went dead.

Sam turned to her mother, her face pale, "Mother, what are we going to do? That was Louise Tate on the phone and apparently we're having dinner for a Mr. Dittman!"

Endora pulled a face, "I honestly don't know how you can stand these mortals. They are always throwing insignificant, little parties!"

"What're we gonna do?!" Sam squealed.

Endora stood up, tossing the magazine aside, "Don't worry, Samantha. Your mother will fix this."

Somehow that left Sam feeling even worse than before.

::::

Right after work, Darrin sped all the way home, running through two red lights. He tore up his own driveway and hopped out of his car.

From across the street, peering out her window with binoculars, Gladys Kravitz called out to her husband, "Abner! Abner! Mr. Stephen's has just come home and he's in an awful hurry!"

Smoking his pipe, in the living room, sat Abner, "Never mind Gladys! He's young. Give him ten more years of marriage and he'll be as slow as the rest of us."

"Abner! Mr. Stephens is banging on his own door! He must've left his key at the office!"

"Riveting news." Abner told her dryly.

"Abner! Now Elizabeth Taylor is greeting Mr. Stephen's inside his own home!"

Abner jerked up from his newspaper, "What?!"

"Elizabeth Taylor?!" Gladys gulped, cleaning the lenses of her binoculars and looking right back through them. "Abner!" She cried out, "I think Mr. Stephens is having an affair with Elizabeth Taylor! She just kissed his cheek!"

Abner was at her side, yanking the binoculars that were still around his wife's neck to take a look himself. But by then, the Stephen's door was already closed.

Abner turned to his wife, "Gladys, if you're gonna start rumors, at least make them believable!" He then turned around, handing his wife back her binoculars. Gladys then turned to the window, looking at the home from across the street, saying suspiciously, "Something funny is going on over there… and I'm gonna find out what!"

:::::

Inside the Stephen's home, Darrin said in a rush, "I tried calling you but Larry kept barging into my office and taking me to places as examples on how to run Dittman's campaign!"

Sam rushed out, "I made the sandwiches and pie, but Darrin, I asked mother to help-"

Darrin flipped out, "Why did you ask your mother to help! Her 'help' isn't help! It's suicide!"

At that moment, the doorbell rang.

Darrin whispered hoarsely at his wife, "Hide!"

As Samantha darted to the kitchen, Darrin opened the door- to find Gladys Kravitz peering over his shoulder, as if trying to find something behind him. Darrin blinked in confusion, "Mrs. Kravitz? To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Gladys asked him, still trying to look over his shoulder, "Do you have a costume party? Maybe have a few people stopping by as Rock Hudson or something?"

"What?" Darrin asked, pulling a face.

"Maybe Shirley Temple?" She tried.

"Mrs. Kravitz, we are having a little dinner party, but it's for my client, my job you see."

"Did Mrs. Stephens change from a blond to a brunette?" Gladys asked pointedly.

"No she did not!" Darrin said loudly.

At that moment, two hands snaked around Darrin's chest, a succulent whisper reaching his ear, "Boo."

Darrin jumped up and nearly collided with Mrs. Kravitz. Now standing in the doorway, was Sam. But Darrin could feel something was off, and the dark hair wasn't it. And then he gulped- dark hair?

"Serena!" He shouted, angrily.

Mrs. Kravitz blinked, "Mrs. Stephens?"

"He wishes!" Serena quipped. At that point, Darrin turned Mrs. Kravitz around so that she was facing her house, and lightly pushed her, "Time to go home now, Mrs. Kravitz!" He then jumped in his own home and locked the door, hissing at Serena, "Who called you here?!"

"I did."

Darrin knew that voice anywhere- and it always managed to send a chill down his spine. He turned around, fuming, "Endora! Why is she here?!" He pointed at Serena with his thumb.

"To masquerade as Samantha!" Endora told him hotly, "And now you hold your tongue before you say something you regret and my niece and I pop out in front of the mortals! How will that be for dinner party conversation?!"

At that moment Serena snapped her fingers and wore a pink dress with a tiny bow on the front. It was one of Sam's older dresses, but it still looked good. She also changed her hair color, and wore it down, over her shoulders. Now is she could train her mischievous twinkle in her eye to be that of a domesticated one, then she would be a dead ringer for Sam.

Serena winked at Darrin, "How do I look, hubby?"

"Like trouble!" Darrin yelped as the doorbell rang. He wrung his hands, "This is happening too fast!"

Endora waved a silk, patterned dress onto herself, rearranging her flaming red hair a bit. She told Darrin, "Not to worry Derwood. Samantha is upstairs with Tabitha and I shall stay during dinner with you to ensure Serena doesn't screw up!"

"Tabitha needs the babysitter, not me Endora!" Serena hissed.

"God help me." Darrin groaned, going over to the door. He mentally checked himself, mumbling, "I can do this!" He then swung the door open, forcing an abnormally big smile on her face, "Who's hungry for dinner!"

Larry, Louise and Mr. Dittman all came in, checking their coats and hats to Darrin. Dittman was a rather short man, with a receding hairline, with large glasses. He appeared to be of Hispanic decent, maybe even Italian. Darrin was expecting an accent, but the man had none, as he told Darrin, "Good evening Mr. Stephens. I am pleased you invited myself and the Tates to dinner. I trust you have some out-of-the box ideas for my new fragrance, which we will discuss after dinner, of course." He turned to Louise Tate who smiled politely at him.

He winked at Louise, "Men should never discuss business in front of women, it is very rude. And especially so when it is in front of a beautiful creature such as yourself, Mrs. Tate."

Larry forced a pleasant smile, saying loudly, "Let's get down to eating, what do you say, Mr. Dittman?!"

Dittman barely acknowledged him, "I suppose. I was hoping for a little chat before we ate, though."

Darrin agreed, "Yes! Now Mr. Dittman, let me introduce you to my wife, Serena-" Serena raised an eyebrow to this while Darrin quickly corrected, "I meant Samantha!" He nervously laughed as he then introduced Endora, "And this is my very pleasant mother-in-law, Endora."

Mr. Dittman gently kissed the back of Endora's hand, "Do you have a last name, Mrs…?"

Endora showed her teeth, "You'll never be able to pronounce it."

"How about a husband?"

"And you'll never be able to find him."

At this, Mr. Dittman laughed heartily, "Now this woman has a fantastic sense of humor! Allow me to be your date for the evening, as the Stephens and Tates have one another!"

Endora shrugged, "I'll allow it, little man."

"Excellent!" Mr. Dittman's voice boomed, in contrast to his height.

Larry then turned to Serena, smiling, "I see you've gotten over your cold!" Louise corrected, "Sore throat." Larry then glared at Darrin, "Good thing too, huh?"

Darrin clasped his hands together, saying quickly, "Let's go over to the dinner table, shall we?!"

As the three pairs of couples walked over to the dinner table to take their seats, Larry quickly threw himself between his wife and Dittman, curtly smiling at Dittman, "Louise prefers to dine to next to me." He promptly took a seat next to her, forcing Dittman and Endora to sit on the other side of the table.

Seeing this, an amused Serena winked, "Nice one, Cotton Top!"

Larry took a second look at who he thought was Sam before Darrin said loudly, "Samantha honey, don't you wanna serve dinner?"

Serena nodded enthusiastically, "Oh yes!" She was about to wave her hand before Endora stopped her, "Daughter," she started cautiously, "this is manual labor, you know."

"Manual labor?" Serena repeated before looking at five pairs of expectant eyes on her. She then nodded slowly, "Oh yes… I must serve… with my hands. Okay then, can't be too hard!"

Darrin let out a breath he didn't know he was having. Larry then asked Dittman pointedly, "So Mr. Dittman, Marty is your first name, isn't it?"

"You can call me Dittman, only my most personal friends call me Marty." Mr. Dittman announced, winking at Louise from across the table. Larry was obviously uncomfortable with the action, but made no mention of it. After all, half a million was riding on this dinner.

Larry stiffly laughed, "Dittman here is such a kidder! He's been like this the whole car ride…"

Dittman turned to Darrin, "I needed help getting to your house, you see. America is such a new place to drive in."

"You're not of our country?" Darrin asked, sipping his glass of white wine that he had poured earlier.

"I was born here, but raised in London for the first part of my youthful life and France the next part. Around the age of 27 I moved back home to America, but I frequently commute between London and the small towns that surround Paris."

"That's quite interesting." Darrin nodded, his advertising instincts kicking in, "I know you aren't too keen to discuss business at the table Mr. Dittman, but may I be so bold as to inquire that a man with your background will want an advertisement with a certain amount of uh- what's the word? Sex? Romance? Seductiveness? As in, a woman will wear this new perfume of yours and will attract the opposite sex?"

Dittman waved his hand flamboyantly, "Fragrance Darrin, Fragrance! A perfume can be sold at your Kmart stores but a fragrance is everlasting love!"

"Pardon me." Darrin stated.

Soon Serena came in, a tray of sandwiches in her hand. With the grace of a trucker, she heartily picked the large turkey sandwiches and plopped them down on everyone's plates.

Larry told Serena, "Y'know, I could've grabbed my own sandwich from the tray."

"Forget your sandwich, keep an eye on your wife." Serena murmured, causing Larry to notice Louise laughing at a remark Dittman had said. Larry forced a laugh too, and soon everyone stopped laughing. Endora turned to Serena, "And while you're at it, top off my drink, I get the feeling this is going to be a loooong night."

Dittman then turned to Darrin, "But you are right, my good man! A good amount of sex never hurt anything! Perhaps someone with a certain raw animal magnetism? Jane Fonda is rather nice, but a bit too young I am afraid. Maybe a Betty Davis? But she is too old, hmmm, shame." He then snapped his fingers, "Elizabeth Taylor should do fine!"

Hearing this, Darrin choked on his wine.

Louise gasped, "Darrin! Are you alright?!"

"Fine, fine…" He murmured.

Then he looked up, and outside his home in the back patio, peeking inside was none other than Gladys Kravitz. He choked even harder.

Serena leaned in towards Endora, "The man is a hazard to himself!"

"I'll say." Endora agreed, taking the opportunity of everyone's distraction over Darrin's choking, to snap her fingers and let a cigarette appear between her lips. Outside, Gladys's eyes snapped open and then grew even wider as Endora snapped again and soon a soft fire took the end of the cigarette. Endora let out a long, slow puff.

And that's when Gladys erupted in screams.

"The hell's that?!" Larry shouted.

Louise pointed outside, screaming.

Dittman proclaimed loudly, "By George! There's a woman lingering out the window playing the part of a regular peeping tom!"

Gladys's eyes stayed transfixed on Endora as she screamed, "Abner! Abner!"

Serena turned to her aunt, "Now you did it, Endora! Worried about me, eh? You should've been looking out for yourself!"

Gladys soon climbed up the fence and away from the party, but the damage had already been done. Upstairs, Samantha heard the commotion, and placed Tabitha in the crib carefully before running downstairs, completely forgetting what form she was currently in, "What's going on?!"

The moment Darrin saw her, he nearly had a heart attack, "NOO!"

Sam froze at the stairs, remembering suddenly who these people thought she was.

And Dittman took off his thick glasses in one fail swoop, his face the picture of a happy boy, "Darrin Stephens, you wild man! And good 'ole Larry Tate! You boys were holding out on me! Why didn't you just come out and say you got Liz Taylor to agree to my commercials!"

Louise stared at one of her favorite movie icons, and sank to her seat, "Liz Taylor!"

Larry looked close to sinking to his knees as if a goddess instead of an actress had appeared to him, "Liz Taylor!"

Swallowing hard, Samantha did her best not to speak and only did a slight curtsy. And it was Darrin who turned to Serena, tapping his drink, "Get me drunk and fast, Serena."

"Of course." Serena said, soon pouring Darrin a drink before turning to her cousin, "And what about Liz?"

"Bourbon- now." A panicking Samantha instructed her cousin.

To be continued…