petal


Maggie twirls a curl around her finger, again and again, a nervous habit that she's never managed to kick to the curb. Not that she has anything to be nervous about. Not at all.

Okay, even she knows she's lying to herself. Crap.

Maybe she does have something to be nervous about. Or someone. But the point is that it's better to twist her hair than let her magic twist up around her like a tornado, right? Right.

The door to The Magic Shop chimes behind her, quickly followed by a derisive snort from her cousin. "At least wait inside, Ducky," Ella says from the doorway.

Maggie stubbornly stays facing forward. "And subject myself to your teasing? I think not."

"Waiting outside won't make him come home any faster," Ella points out reasonably. Too reasonably, if anyone asked Maggie. Of course, nobody does ask her and, frankly, its inevitable that Ella would change after motherhood. The Ella that Maggie first clung onto with a bad case of hero worship is marginally different than the Ella she knows now - being a mother of two and seven years does a lot to change a person.

Seven years had changed a lot for Maggie, after all. It makes sense that other people change, too. Just. Maggie doesn't do well with change, even anticipated change, like certain somebodies going off to Europe for a graduation vacation before they start their next degree. She especially doesn't do well with change when that same certain somebody stole her first kiss and then left for Europe the next day.

Change is hard.

Maggie has no idea if she should actually be nervous at all, or if it would make more sense for her to be righteously angry.

She doesn't like being uncertain. Stupid werewolf.

Maggie clears her throat, still facing forward with her hair curled around her finger. Better to not look at one of a handful of people who can read every thought passing through her head just by looking at her face. "I'm fine where I am," she insists.

"Uh huh," Ella says dubiously, but she goes back into the shop anyway.

One thing Maggie has always loved about Ella? She understood the concept of distance. Maybe a little too well, sure, but Ella has always given her space when she needs it, unlike her mother who takes helicopter parenting to a whole other level when she's got a mind to be worried about Maggie. Not that Maggie exactly blames her mom, all things considered, but still.

Maggie finds herself winding bigger chunks of her fiery hair around her finger as the minutes tick and tick and tick forward. It's a fight against her own self control to stop her foot from tapping against the pavement. One anxious outlet at a time.

If she takes a minute to think about it, she can seldom remember a time where being around Ben or thinking about Ben hasn't made her somewhat nervous. He's just so…Ben, that exhilarating combination of highly emotive and fiercely intelligent, never afraid to say exactly what's on his mind. She admires that about him almost as much as she admires the keenness in his steady deep amber gaze or the way he tips his head back, throat bobbing, when he is taken by laughter.

Maggie thinks that Ben tries to live with such abandon because of everything - everyone - he lost when he was younger. She finds it terribly brave. She wishes she could be like that all the time, instead of just with family, but some tiny part of her is always looking for malice in strangers. Maybe one day she'll be able to move on like her mom or like Ella. Maybe she just needs more time to get there. She's only eighteen, after all.

There's time. Especially since Ella is trying to pass along certain wisdoms about manipulating time.

At that thought, she cracks a small private smile. Magic always makes her feel light in her heart now that magic doesn't mean pain. Magic means freedom. Magic means -

Ben's back.

_/\_/\_/\_

Paul smirks at him from the driver's seat when Ben suddenly sits up straighter after the car passes over the town boarder. His best friend is a complete asshole, because Paul doesn't hesitate to glance over at him and say, "You know, if you move in on her any slower, I might just have to put my hat in the ring."

Ben rolls his eyes. "You wouldn't."

Paul's smirk widens. "Wouldn't I? You know, she's really grown up, if you catch my drift. Catching all kinds of eyes around town -"

"Paul," Ben warns.

"Relax," Paul says with a roll of his eyes. He turns onto another street, easily navigating the narrow roads of their hamlet town. "Everybody knows you've got your eye on her - and she's completely oblivious to any attention she gets. I almost feel bad for you, actually. You poor bastard."

Ben bites back the jealous growl trying to rumble out of his throat. It's irrational to be so damn possessive of a girl he's only kissed once - and fleetingly, at that - but he can't seem to help it. When Paul said Ben's had his eye on Magnolia Black, he wasn't exaggerating. Sometimes, it feels like Ben's been waiting for Maggie to grow up forever, not just for a few years. He'd noticed her when she was fifteen and he's kept noticing her ever since. His trip to Europe was supposed to be a distraction as much as a celebration for graduating, but all he could think about was getting tangled up in wild red curls.

He might actually be going to hell for some of those thoughts. And his spontaneous kiss right before he left? Big mistake on his part - just real shit planning, honestly.

Thank God she's eighteen now, otherwise Ben's ass would be toast - whether by her protective step-dad or by her protective cousin remains to be determined, but the point still stands.

At least nobody had made any headway while he was gone, if Paul is telling the truth.

Ben really hopes that Paul isn't dicking around.

"Hey, drop me off here," Ben says as the town square comes into view.

Paul scoffs. "That eager, huh?"

"Shut up."

"You're kind of pathetic, man. Two months away and you're still acting like a pup for some girl."

"Not just some girl," Ben corrects immediately.

Maggie would never just be some girl to Ben. She's too amazing to be anything but the girl - kind and noble, equally sharp-tongued and compassionate and so insightful sometimes that it makes his head spin. And it isn't like he's as oblivious as Maggie is; he's known that she's had a bit of a crush on him since way before he'd noticed her, and he can only cross his fingers that her interest hadn't changed in the time he'd been gone.

Otherwise, Ben doesn't know what he or his wolf would do.

The brakes on Paul's car whine as he idles to a stop near the curb. Ben hoists his bag from the back seat, exits the car, and pointedly ignores Paul's chortled Good luck after he slams the door closed. Bag in hand, Ben watches as Paul pulls away, taking a moment to gather his wits and do a cursory scent-test to make sure he doesn't reek of travel and airplane. Then he turns around, ready to seek Maggie out at her favorite haunts, only to stop in his tracks, bag falling from his hand.

She's already there, watching him from across the street, equally as frozen in her tracks as he is frozen in his place. Her hair is longer, the ends reaching the dip of her waist, and there is a rosy flush from sun exposure across the bridge of her nose. Ben swallows, unable to help his eyes tracing over the generous curves of her frame, helpless but to admire the way the haltertop dress shows off the shape of her bust or the flair of her hips.

Did she dress up for him? No, surely not. All Maggie owns are dresses, as far as he's seen. The fact that she's wearing a cream one decorated in a golden floral print almost the same shade as his eyes is nothing more than a coincidence. Right? Right.

Unless it isn't.

As he stands there, dumbstruck and frozen across the street, Ben is treated to the sight of Maggie's fair skin flushing brightly - and the wolf inside preens, a smug sort of knowledge that two months hadn't done much to make Maggie indifferent to him like he'd feared.

Ben rolls his shoulders back, subconsciously channeling his cousin and Alpha, and takes a step forward.

It's time.

_/\_/\_/\_

He looks good. Really good, actually. Europe must have been good for Ben, because he looks healthy and revitalized, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he jogs across the street, skin all golden-hued and his teeth flashing in a broad grin.

Maggie's heart flips over in her chest. He looks happy to see her - her.

That was a good thing, right? Better than things being awkward after that spontaneous kiss, which is what she'd been expecting. Or dreading, more like.

When Ben stops in front of her, maybe a bit too close to be considered a polite distance, Maggie has to crane her head back a little to get a good look at him. He'd turned twenty-three over the summer and his physical proximity makes her feel terribly young. Still, she can't look away.

"You're back," she states needlessly.

His boyish grin widens and he leans down, dropping his height closer to her own. "How nice of you to notice," he teases. "Did you miss me?"

Maggie's cheeks burn and her eyes dart away.

Ben chuckles. She watches - more than a little stunned - as he plucks at one of her curls, loosely wrapping it around his finger and giving it a good tug. "I missed you."

It's astonishment at his naked honesty, even partially masked by good humor, that makes Maggie suck in a sharp breath and turn wide eyes up at Ben. She blinks rapidly, mouth a little dry. "You did?"

Ben's smile softens. "Of course I did, petal," he tells her gently. "You didn't think I went around kissing girls I wouldn't miss, did you?"

"So you really did mean to kiss me?" Maggie blurts out. She's mortified the next second, because why would she ask that, oh Merlin.

Ben stops twisting her curl, staring at her in mild stupefaction. "Well," he says after a moment. "It wasn't an accident. It's not like I tripped and fell on your lips, or anything."

"I know that," she says quickly. "I just - I didn't know why - and then you just left - and-"

Suddenly, Ben is closer than before. "Did you want me to kiss you again, just so you know it wasn't an accident the first time? I wouldn't mind. Honest. Actually, I would be delighted to kiss you again."

"Oh," Maggie says, a bit dimly.

Ben's expression becomes serious, somewhat thoughtful. "In fact, I wouldn't mind being the only man to kiss you." He pauses then, eyes flashing lupine gold. "Ever," he tacks on, the barest of a sub-vocal growl passing between them.

"Oh," Maggie breathes again.

"Yeah," Ben says against her lips, carefully capturing her mouth in a lingering, sweet kiss that makes her head spin and her spine practically melt.

Maggie is smiling when he pulls back, her magic fluttering like a hummingbird in excitement, all of her previous anxiety about Ben's return totally forgotten.

How silly of her to have been nervous.


A/N: Huh. Turns out Ben is a smooth motherfucker. Who knew? And does anyone actually know what the canon Maggie is diminutive for? I don't, so I went with Magnolia just so Ben could call her petal. Because this girl just has a lot of nicknames.