Wow... this is amazing! I never thought a little old story like this would get recognition like this! It's totally fab!! Thanks everyone! So, I reckon I finally have this baby all plotted out, and I guess I'll be embarking now. Will y'all stay with me through the journey? I hope so!

Bon voyage, dear readers!

I Wish
Chapter 2
Forget-Me-Not

The elf's snap echoed through the grassy French fields. Across the meadows and into the barn. Into the little cottages where families sat around the dinner table eating lamb and croissants and delicate chocolates. It even echoed all the way to the neighboring house, and to the dogs who yipped and whined, dashing away from the quaint and quiet meadow as fast as their stumpy legs would take them.

If Oliver had any mind at all, he would've laughed at them.

Instead, Oliver knelt atop of Deanna, eyes wide, body quivering from the sudden whimsy of magic. His hands were pinned on either side of her head, clawed into the ground, his knees anchored down on either side of her hips. If anyone would've come waltzing by, they would've thought Deanna and he were two promiscuous teenagers having a romp beside an overflowing well.

They didn't know that the cat-turned-human had been too much weight for poor Deanna, and that the position in which they had toppled was most unfortunate.

Deanna stared into Oliver's inky green eyes, and felt her cheeks burn red. "O-Oliver?"

For a moment, he recognized her, and then he cocked his head and asked, "Yes?"

"Could you please...get off?" she strained her eyes to see if the elf was still there, but he wasn't. He had long gone. In the distance, the dogs began coming back in force, their yips growing closer with each second.

If Oliver still had hair over his body, they would have rose with the most ferocious hiss any human could ever give. It sounded quite feral.

"O-Oliver," Deanna tried a bit louder, but Oliver ignored her, and hunkered down, eyes glowering beyond her.

Thundering paws lit the ground, and suddenly the neighborhood Shitzu yapped just on the other side of the fence. Oliver hissed, and raised his hand, bent inward in a paw-like motion, and suddenly froze. He realized. Silently, he drew his hand in front of him. Deanna watched as his face went from confusion, to surprise, to curiosity, and finally to horror. He gasped and reeled back.

"What did you do to me?" he shouted, stumbling to his feet, and promptly fell when his legs twisted about. "I'm human!"

"Yeah, you are," Deanna replied. "You wanted to be, remember?"

Oliver felt down his legs in horror, and suddenly gave a cry of realization. "I don't have a tail!"

"Nor paws or fur or --"

"What are these?" he tore at his shirt (a green Auf Weitersen t-shirt), and blue jeans, and clawed to get the shoes off his feet. He managed one, and forgot about the other. "Change me back!" he yelled at her. "Change me back!"

Deanna froze at the ice in his voice. She began to realize, too, just what the Elf had done.

"CHANGE ME BACK!" he fiercely yelled, picked up his begotten shoe, and hurtled it at her. It knicked her on the shoulder, and she winced. "YOU WITCH! CHANGE ME BACK!"

Deanna didn't know what to do. Tears welled in her eyes.

When she didn't respond, he stood on his feet again, managing better this time, and glowered at her with hateful green eyes. If his vision was filled with red fury, he might have noticed Deanna and the lost look on her face. And he might have came to. But he didn't, and instead hatred burned in the center of his gut, and fueled the hatred that made his eyes gleam. It was all to easy for Deanna to read them, suddenly, and she wished she couldn't. He stormed towards her, took her by the shoulders, and shook her one good time. "Change me back!" he pleaded. "Please. Please change me back!"

"I-I'm sorry," she whispered. They locked gazes. She stifled a sob. His grip slackened.

Something shifted behind glorious green eyes.

Something glowed. Something clicked. And suddenly overwhelmed him. Slowly, his face slacked as his eyes grew distant, filled with things from another time. "Deanna," he breathed, and collapsed onto the soft green grass.

The dogs barked across the fence, and whined.

Numbly, Deanna fell to her knees, and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. He didn't stir. Her mind was a blur. He didn't recognize her. He didn't know her. It were as their adventure never happened, as if his memory had been wiped clean...

...He had forgotten her.

And it hurt. The butterflies in her stomach became lead, and died.

"But he knew my name," she told herself. "He saw me. Oh Oliver, I'm so sorry." Then, furiously, she rose to her feet and kicked the well for good measure and spit into it. "Stupid elves!" she roared, and her voice echoed back up to her. The water was slowly draining down, down, into the darkness, and the Elves did not reply.

Oliver groaned, and Deanna was at his side once again. She didn't know what to do. Take him home? "Look what I brought home today, Mom!" she'd say. Oh yes, that'll work splendidly, she thought bitterly, and bit her thumbnail nervously. Her mother would be more alarmed about his ears than the boy himself. And for what costume party. And why they looked so real.

"Funny, elves," she whispered and touched Oliver's still-cat ears. There felt almost velvety, and blended with his inky black hair. "Very funny."

"Indeed," whispered the wind. "So he won't forget." Mockingly. Teasingly. The wind laughed away, and left Deanna alone with an Oliver who didn't remember that he had ever loved such a girl as she.

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