This chapter's a little naughty (don't go overboard with that assessment-no crazy monkey-sex or anything...), so please don't be too surprised with a little rated T humour. Still fluffy as always!
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Sophie did not know where she was.
Groggily, she rose her head from the soft surface, propping herself up with her elbows. Her blurry eyes adjusted to the bright light streaming in from her right, blinking as she examined the dark couch she was lain upon, looking to one brown corduroy arm and feeling the square pillows beneath her. There was chatter coming from the shelving in front of her, covered haphazardly with knickknacks and a box in the center where the chatter originated from. She jumped when she saw the people inside, knowing there was only one place that had such containers-
"Mrow."
Sophie looked down and immediately pulled her head back; below her was the ugliest shorthaired cat she had ever seen. A hand from behind Sophie brushed her arm and pet the cat, shocking her skin. Sophie yelped and tore away from her propped-up position, running towards the shelves. When she turned around she let out a breath of air.
"Darren! Don't do that ever again!"
"Sorry, I thought you could see me." His big, blue eyes were a little sad. Sophie guiltily shoved her straying hair behind her ears. She bit her lip as she took in her surroundings: Darren sat on the loveseat she had just vacated, with a small table beside it. The table held a lamp and a strange, shiny item with a long, swirling chord extending downwards in a U shape. Below the couch was a black cat flecked orange with a flat face and large, hooked ears; Sophie fought back the urge to shudder. The walls were patterned with odd little flowers Sophie had never seen before. Beyond the couch was a doorway to a kitchen, and two other doors to her left and right past the couch; one was to outside, the other was indiscernible from her position.
"Do you know where we are?"
"My house." He replied with barely a glance around the room, "How did the deamon do it?" he asked in amazement; Sophie shrugged.
"I've never seen Calcifer do that; he likes to keep us on our toes."
"Why did he send us back here?"
"Away from Howl and the cure to our curse? I don't know."
"What good does that do for you? I doesn't help you make a clearer judgement."
"Clearer judgement?" Darren averted his eyes. Sophie put her hands on her hips at the distressing situation and a sudden yearning for the colour blue.
"I don't want to be in distress." she mused out loud.
"What?"
Sophie looked to him sternly, lips forming a thin line. She strode across the room, "We can't sit around all day and wait for Howl to help us get out of Wales, and Calcifer certainly won't be helping us—"
"Howl said not to travel." He interjected.
"Calcifer did it." She returned.
"We still did the travelling." He continued, "Would the deamon do something… evil?" She stopped for a moment.
"No;" She began pacing again, "I wouldn't put it past Howl to add a false aggravator to our curse just to make his job easier." Sophie laughed with a bark.
"I wouldn't either; but I still think we should try to stay put. Maybe Calcifer sent us here to help with the effects. Can magic exist in Wales?" Sophie looked to him with a smile,
"So Calcifer's not evil anymore?"
Darren shrugged, causing the springs to creak on the small sofa, "Not if you say he isn't."
Sophie was caught off guard by such an easy fight. She looked at him slowly, "You really aren't your brother, are you?"
"Nope…do you know about magic here in Wales?"
"Ms. Angorian seemed to get on just fine."
"Hmm," he nodded, "and Ben…but this is a spell; will this be different?"
"How should I know?"
"You're a witch," he said with a smile, brandishing his coat.
"A witch who knows nothing about love!"
"What about talking a magic carpet into sending us back to Ingary?"
"Not that simple."
"You don't need to! I've seen you talk my leather jacket back together why not chat us into the next dimension by magic carpet, or get this Planter-seed thing off by you directly?"
"It's not that easy," she sighed, "I don't know the disease, so I can't treat it."
"What about Megan?"
"On magic or love?"
He made a face "I've never talked to Megan about love, other than that one time she explained the meaning of sausage in a bun at Aunt Nora's cookout."
"So she might be able to get us back!" He nodded in agreement.
"It's how I got to Ingary, but she had it worked out with Calcifer."
Sophie sighed, "It's worth a try."
Darren checked his watch, "She should be visiting soon to feed Stan."
"Stan?"
"My cat." Sophie looked back at the flat-faced creature giving her a yellow-eyed stare.
"I would think of you as a dog person." She said absently, trying not to make a face back at Stan.
Darren shrugged, "You know people; they want a kitten but not a cat. I found Stan de-clawed in a ditch with an open carrier beside him with some food."
"That's awful."
"It's normal."
"What made you stop?"
"I was helping someone with their engine nearby."
Sophie's fought back the urge to gape; it came out with her jaw angled slightly to one side, teeth shut as she stared at Darren. He looked around awkwardly, "What?"
"You picked up a stray cat while helping a stranger with their engine."
"I never said she was a stranger!" he grinned.
"Was she?"
He shrugged, "Yes."
"I bet she appreciated meeting you." He laughed, missing Sophie's compliment, "It was a saintly day for me; I don't always go around collecting kittens or I'd be as bad as Aunt Gemma."
"Why hasn't Howl told me about any of these aunts?"
"It's better that we keep the family meetings for you to Howl, me and Megan." Darren checked his watch, "She should be here in a half an hour."
"Perfect! We can minimize movement, get ourselves out of here, and," She gave a stunning grin, "in the meantime you can show me how these boxes work." He smiled back.
"Will do."
She looked back to the television, letting out a sigh of relief as she began to sit on the couch. Sophie jumped right back off, "Whatwasthat?"
They froze in surprise at the sudden shock they had felt at their skin, less electric but no less of a rippling surge. When they looked to their shoulders—the place where they had touched—they each plucked a little rosebud from their bodies. Each dropped to the ground without ceremony as Sophie looked back to Darren. She tugged her skirt down anxiously.
"That's not going to help anything." He remarked, picking out the leaves still embedded in his shoulder.
"Flowers! Damn Calcifer!" she shouted, stomping about the room.
"Sophie…"
"I will not stand idly by as Howl attempts to find an antidote that may not exist while his only brother and—and—business partner are turned into trees!"
"Sophie," Darren indicated quietly to her feet as she slowed from her fit of anger. All along the path of her tirade were a trail of blooming flowers and buds, each sprouting between floorboards and appliances. One white flower had bloomed on the table lamp; it's green petals spreading as though enjoying a new day's dew. Sophie gaped, and then breathed it in with a choke.
"What's that smell?"
"I'm guessing the flowers." Darren laughed. Sophie took another breath, and found she laughing too. They looked around the room absently, laughing at their predicament. As their laughter-but not the haze circling their heads-faded, a niggling question occurred to Sophiie.
"Darren?"
"Yes?"
"What is a sausage in a bun?"
