Author's Note: HI!! I'm back! I just can't leave a story unfinished! Plus, a while back, they tried to change the log-in procedure and I got locked out. But they changed it back, so now I'm back! There will not be regular posts, so just forget about it, but I'll try to post as often as I can, and, as always, reviews are appreciated.
Wyatt leaned on the bar, one hand supporting his head, a drink on the table in front of him. He hadn't had a drink at the club in over 4 years, but this was his third in the past hour. He sipped it absently as he watched the band playing up on stage, and the crowd on the dance floor going nuts. That was why he was drinking. It wasn't just that the club was doing well, that wonderful fact was being muted by why it was doing so good. It was the fact that Green Day was playing up on his stage, because of Julia. The band that Wyatt had booked for tonight, a Friday no less, had canceled at the last moment. Just when Wyatt had been about to tell everyone that the club wasn't opening tonight and that they could all go home, Julia had told him that she had worked as a club promoter, and that she could get him a band in no time. Wyatt, believing she could never do it and he would get to watch her get crushed by someone's manager, stepped aside and let her call. A few minutes later she set down the receiver and announced to the entire room that Green Day was in town and was going to play at the club. Wyatt hid behind the bar until the applause died down.
That wasn't all Julia had done, oh no. In the 3 hours she had been at the club before it opened she had managed to rearrange the posters on the wall and add eight, she had gotten out the word about Green Day in a mater of hours, she had reorganize the entire bar area to make it more efficient, and taught Marty how to make three new drinks. The entire club staff loved her, and tonight P3 was getting more customers then ever before. Staring at his cousin dancing up close to the stage, he couldn't think of anything or anyone else he hated more. He drained his drink in one gulp.
"Excuse me," came a high, airy voice off to his right. He turned, and found himself looking directly to the most intense green eyes he had ever seen in his life. Standing not two feet from him was the most gorgeous woman he could imagine. She was beyond imagination. She was . . . perfect. The woman had a lovely, hourglass figure, draped a scanty outfit of green cloth, different shades and hughs, in many small, almost ragged layers, like her skirt was made entirely out of large leaves. Her silky red hair glided down her back, with tiny flowers stuck in so perfectly they seemed to be growing right from the glistening red mane. Her lips were stretched wide in an almost childlike smile, and seemed to be used to that position. But her eyes. They were the best part. Alive they were, large and round and sparkling. Flecks of every shade of green possible seemed to move and change, dancing under his gaze. He drew a sharp breath.
"Heh . . .hello," he stammered finally.
The woman giggled, "I didn't mean to startle you," she laughed. Her voice was light, young sounding, almost like a child. He loved the sound of it.
Then Wyatt did something he hadn't done for as long as he could remember. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked.
Again the woman laughed. "No, I never drink," and, not for the first time that night, Wyatt found himself feeling incredibly foolish.
She swayed slightly to the music, then flicked a green scarf that looked like silk or gossamer at him. She laughed and twirled, then grabbed his hands. "Dance with me!" She cried, pulling him out onto the dance floor.
"No, I . . . I don't," Wyatt tried to protest, but they were already out on the floor. She pressed herself against him and together they swayed in time to the music. Wyatt felt his skin grow hot, but then something about her banished his nerves. His muscles relaxed, and all the little nerves in his brain somehow went quiet. For a moment he felt light and calm and peaceful. He savored the feel of her pressed against him, the earthy smell of her hair. She drew back her head and looked at him. Her eyes were wide and fascinated as they searched his face, her mouth stretched wide in the same ecstatic grin. She seemed almost euphoric looking up at him.
"Who are you?" Wyatt breathed, unable to take his eyes from her face.
Her grin only seemed to widen. "I am Laurel," she breathed back against his lips.
"Laurel," Wyatt repeated. He decided that was the most beautiful name he had ever heard. He had always liked his mother's name, Piper. It was unusual and classic sounding, but suddenly he didn't even think it was that pretty. Laurel was much better. "Laurel," he breathed again.
"Yes," she whispered delightedly, "and you are the child of a charmed one!"
Reality slammed into Wyatt's chest with the force of a charging bull. He was suddenly jerked off cloud nine and back into the middle of a crowded dance floor, in a club he was supposed to be running. And here, standing before him, was the very thing he had been dreading. Proof. Proof that the evens of a few days ago had not been just a bizarre dream. Proof that he was a witch, and that he had powers he couldn't control, and that at any second an all powerful, resurrecting demon might come up through the floor and try to kill him, Julia, and everyone in the club. It was like a nightmare.
Laurel was still talking. "You are the child of a charmed one," she repeated, "you are the twice blessed child!"
"Now you see," Wyatt jumped in, trying to extricate himself from her embrace, "that's where you're wrong. I'm not twice blessed. Believe me, I'm not even once blessed. So, you've obviously got the wrong guy, so I'll leave you to go look for him, if he's who you're looking for."
"You are the twice blessed child," insisted Laurel, keeping a firm hold on him, "I can sense it! You are the child of a powerful witch and her forbidden angel lover."
"Actually my dad was a handyman," Wyatt told her quickly, "not an angle. And, they were married. So, if you could," he squirmed, trying to pull away, but she held fast.
"You are the twice blessed child!" she insisted, her vibrant eyes looking at him desperately, "I need your help! My forest is in danger!"
"Your forest?" asked Wyatt, "what are you, a wood nymph?"
"Yes!" Laurel cried, "and I need your help!"
"Wyatt!?" called a voice from closer to the stage. Julie stood, hands on her hips, grinning madly. She wore tight black jeans and a sparkling, silvery shirt that was open at the back, with her hair wild and wavy around her face. "Ooh," she giggled over the music, "looks like somebody found a dance partner! I knew you weren't all work and no play!"
"We're not dancing," Wyatt insisted, "she's . . ." he stopped. He simply couldn't bring himself to say it here, in the club. This was where he worked, his place of normality. He couldn't bring himself to talk about magic here.
"One hot chick!" Julie laughed, "I'll say. Don't worry," she told Laurel, "he's not always this shy!"
"Julie!" Wyatt yelled. He could have kicked her. Why, why did she have to be some damn blunt!
"You are the child of a charmed one as well!" shouted Laurel, and to Wyatt's great relief, unwrapped herself from him and bounced over to Julia, wrapping her in a tight hug.
"Uh, Wy?" Julia raised an eyebrow at her cousin. Wyatt let out a groan of frustration and, grabbing Julia by the hand, hurried off the dance floor, the two girls in tow.
Wyatt pulled open the door of the back room and, pushed Julia and Laurel inside, closed the heavy door on the pounding music. "Okay Wy," Julia put her hands on her hips, "what's this all about?"
"Julia," Wyatt sighed tiredly, gesturing at Laurel, "Laurel the wood nymph. Laurel, Julia my ever so sensitive cousin and fellow witch."
"A wood nymph?" asked Julia, grinning, "cool!"
"It is not cool!" Wyatt bellowed, "magical creatures in my club is not cool at all!"
"Are not, honey," replied Julia gently, smiling in the face of his anger, "and did you, in all your grand grammatic wisdom, ask her why she's here?"
"She says she needs help," Wyatt told her, feeling immensely weary.
"And you tried to turn her away!" Julia demanded, shocked. Since the whole thing had begun Wyatt had shown an aversion to magic, but Julia couldn't have imagined him turning away someone who needed help. She had never thought he was the kind of person who could be so . . . heartless. Suddenly Julia saw her cousin in a whole new light. It didn't flatter him.
"Please," begged Laurel her eyes wide, "you must help me! My forest is in terrible danger!"
"Don't you worry honey," Julia cooed, putting an arm around Laurel, "we'll help you."
"Julie!" growled Wyatt dangerously.
"Wyatt." Julia replied defiantly.
"We're not really in a position to help anyone right now." Wyatt hissed.
"But we're going to do the best we can," Julia told him firmly, "Someone needs out help Wyatt. We can't just turn her away!"
Wyatt looked at Julia for a moment. She stood, tall and proud and determined, facing him. Who was this chivalrous young woman? Not his cousin. Not the girl that had cheated off him at school. Not the girl who had run amok of the house as a child. Not the girl that had teased him unmercifully for being a goody two shoes! What had happened to Julia? And how . . . how could he have missed it?
"Okay," Wyatt agreed, "we'll see what we can do."