Note: Aah, I love this story, lovelovelove, and adore writing it. It's so fun, so silly, and while it's serious, it doesn't take itself seriously. Which is a story-form I haven't written in a while, so I adore it. XD Thanks to all reviewers: you guys are about as awesome as it gets!

Chapter Two: Boiling Point

"He gave you a piece of junk?!"

Stella's outburst caused a few neighboring café-goers to glance our way, but I shrugged and turned back to my food. "Well, it was an honest effort," I conceded as I took a sip of strawberry daiquiri. "Naturally, he thought it would be a good bonding experience, working together on something like that…"

"But Stella's right—this is your birthday, not a science fair!" Bloom added. "I can understand why you want to be okay with it, Tecna, but to be honest I think there's some kind of miscommunication between you two. You don't sound too happy about it, you know?"

Well, that certainly wasn't an understatement. I'd gone to bed rather disappointed the night before, and it wasn't just because dinner had been cold.

"Nabu and I, we're usually on the same page about these kinds of things," Layla admitted with a sigh. She propped her chin on her hand as she looked up at me thoughtfully. "It's easier for us, because we're so alike: we both love the outdoors, we both love the same bands, and there's never been that kind of friction between us. I guess Timmy thought he was doing something you both loved. You can't really hold that against him."

"I'm not holding anything against him," I protested. "I'm just disappointed a bit. We never do anything romantic together, you see, and I'm just…tired…of the same old things. I just wish he'd catch on to that. That's all."

Flora smiled at me and took my hand to squeeze lightly. "Oh, sweetie, give him time. I'm sure if you keep encouraging him to try new things, you'll find a happy medium."

"Men just don't know how to be romantic on their own," Stella announced decisively. "I love Brandon, but if I didn't schedule all our dates and reservations for Magix's finest dining, well, I'd be attacked by the paparazzi for stooping down to fast food. And I'm so staying away from carbs." She stole a French fry from Layla and grinned. "Starting tomorrow."

"So anyway, Bloom, how're the wedding plans going?" Flora inquired. "I've heard Sparx is doing amazingly well. You and Sky should be ready to unite the kingdoms soon, then, right?"

Bloom blushed despite herself; I guess it's always been strange, talking about marriage to us married women. Why, if you'd asked me years ago, I would have deemed Bloom the first of us to the tie the knot. Who knew she'd wind up the last?

"We're thinking June, maybe," the redhead said. "It's going to be real elaborate though—very royal."

"Well, duh!" Stella exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Eraklyon and Sparx? We're talking major royal mingling here! Of course everything's going to be top quality!"

Flora and I exchanged glances and tiny smiles. I could remember all too well the petite flower-enshrined chapel in which she and Helia were wed, and the quick informal wedding that Timmy and I shared on a city rooftop. To have a wedding like Bloom seemed to be planning—well, it would have driven us both mad.

"Hey, any of you hear from Musa?" Layla asked us as Stella and Bloom continued to chatter about decorations and such. "I called her cell, but she didn't answer. You think she extended her tour or something?"

"Maybe she forgot we were meeting up?" Flora offered with a shrug.

"I'm sure she has a good reason for not coming to lunch with us," I assured them. Quite frankly, though, I hadn't a clue what that good reason could be.

"I'm home, darling!"

I tossed my purse and coat onto the kitchen table and eased myself into a chair with a groan. It was at that odd time of day—when lunch is over, but it's too early for dinner, and only reruns are playing on television. Timmy usually beat me home, and I'd see him watching some reruns of a canceled reality TV show: So You Think You Can Invent. He'd been rooting for the underdog, a tiny soft-spoken girl with wide glasses and a squeaky voice. Me, I found the pragmatic fellow from Melody to be far more capable, but eh. Different strokes and all that. We could always go online and find out the winner, but that'd be cheating, and we've always been pretty straight-laced, us two.

Today, however, the TV was blank, so I made my way through the house suspiciously. "Timmy? Honey?" The sound of metal clinking reached my ears, and I laughed wryly to myself.

Of course. The garage. My birthday present.

"Hey, Tecna!" my husband beamed at me, his smudged cheeks a faint shade of red. "I, uh, hope you don't mind that I started working on it before you came home. It's just—I can barely keep myself away from anything in need of technical attention, you know?" He chuckled. "But don't worry; I saved you the good parts."

I glanced at the pile of gadgets and raised an eyebrow. "Timmy…this is what you use for the Timecna Travel Agency ships, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He wiped his brow. "Well, it'd be nice to take this baby to work, wouldn't it?"

"It wouldn't be scheduled."

"Well, it could be an exception to the rule, right? You work there, honey. You'll need to come and go."

"This is too dangerous," I protested, shaking my head. Somehow, seeing my husband smiling at me so cluelessly just….ate at me, kept dredging up feelings of bitterness and disappointment that, frankly, I wished I could hold at bay. Images of Flora with Helia, Stella with Brandon, and Bloom with Sky tore at me, sneering at me: "See, something's wrong with you. Your husband isn't like them. He's different. You're different. It's illogical; it's wrong." I didn't like seeing Timmy in this light; I never had. "What if someone stole it, Timmy? Bloom could have a weak point—"

"Darling, I think it'll be fine."

"But she's a danger magnet!" I moaned. "If there's only one ship in the cosmos that can sneak in and out through the S.D.W. at will, then someone will eventually steal it and use it against her! Timmy, I understand you're trying to help, but this…this has too many holes."

"She doesn't exactly live in a bubble, Tecna."

"But we're trying to build her a bubble!"

It was foolish, but I felt like now I wasn't only annoyed at Timmy, but furious at Bloom—why was it I was always covering for her, protecting her, saving her? She had the Dragon Fire; she didn't need me! It was ridiculous to think she couldn't handle any attacks against her home—bordering on laughable, actually. But Bloom wasn't here, so I fueled my anger by glaring daggers at Timmy instead.

"Honey, fine, maybe we can just make a normal airship," he consented.

"Make your own ship," I retorted, stomping off to the kitchen and slamming the garage door shut. It shuddered on its hinges, and I looked about me in distaste, wondering if anger ate you up like a fire: all-consuming, blind to safety and right-and-wrong. I wondered when exactly this illogical feeling would die within me, when right now it felt as if it choked me so terribly I couldn't breathe.

The remote found itself in my hands and I clicked it absentmindedly, just in time to see Timmy's mumbly girl win the prize for most innovative invention.

Drat. As if I wasn't annoyed enough; now he'd won our unofficial bet. I was going to miss those ten dollars very much.

"T-Tecna?"

I shut my eyes. "Not now, Timmy. Just…not now."

He gave me one lasting look of longing before drawing away, and it wasn't until night fell that I realized I'd banished myself to this couch, for a reason as stupid as arguing itself.

"Why yes, Bloom, I'm quite sick." I coughed into the phone's speaker for emphasis, all while punching in buttons on my microwave to bake me something yummy. I needed comfort food. Now. "No, I shouldn't, really. It's contagious. Terribly. You could get it, and I'd hate to mess with your engagement plans. No, don't be silly, Bloom! I don't sound fine; the phone is messing with my voice. I assure you, I sound dreadful."

Poking my head into my pantry, I frowned—why was there no chocolate in this house?!—and coughed again. "See, I sound pathetic. I told you. Now, I believe my fever is rising, so I'll be going…I need my rest. Oh, quite, quite, I'll get better soon." I paused as I read the label on a pack of vanilla pudding. "Hopefully."

So I owed Bloom the truth as my employer, maybe. And maybe I'd been the one always telling people that lying and cheating were the most deplorable things imaginable. But that was before I had a day so in need of sugary sweetness as today, and what Bloom didn't know wouldn't hurt her. The last thing I wanted was to give her nightmares about her own marriage with Sky…or invite over a whole Winx Club of girls who would insist on patching things up between us like it was some ordinary little high school romance, and not a marriage in need of some fine-tuning. After all, this was a serious issue, and should be settled just as seriously.

"Ooh! Brownies!"

A light ping sounded as the glorious smell of warm chocolate filled the room (the last of my secret stash, as luck would have it) and I immediately dug in with my fork, only to burn my tongue. It's hard to think logically when your mind is elsewhere…which is why I hate arguing so much. It makes processing so much more difficult, which makes my job at Sparx become the Omega Dimension of careers. Could anyone blame me for ditching?

Timmy had gone to work, something I found both comforting and troubling. I didn't like being the spouse who sat home and stuffed chocolate into her mouth when she realized she couldn't bite her tongue; I wanted to be the one going to work, calm and collected, leaving my husband behind as he threw himself into tinkering machines to silence his guilt.

Which I was doing, now, instead of him. With chocolate instead of tinkering machinery.

Ashamed, I dropped my fork and sighed. Maybe I did need a second opinion. And maybe this was a pretty stupid reason to fight. I didn't like fighting; it drained me. So I considered my options.

I could dash to my closet, dress in my cutest fairy outfit, and wait for him in the bedroom—but Timmy wouldn't appreciate my use of the sheets as a band-aid. No, Timmy preferred words for this sort of thing…which used to be my forte, until I realized how powerful actions could be.

So, then, who was good at words?

"Musa?" I cradled the cell phone against my ear and swallowed a lump in my throat. "I hope you get this message soon, because I am simply beside myself at the moment…I've done something stupid, and now Timmy and I are fighting, and I need your advice. I'd be grateful for your help. Bye, Tecna."

Of course. The answering machine. See, this is why phones are my least favorite form of technology. (Though that doesn't mean much; my list changes periodically.)

Once more defeated, I threw myself on my couch—my loyal, trustworthy, party-of-one couch—and went back to the drawing board. Maybe I didn't need words. Maybe I needed some sort of…what's that word Stella uses? Therapy? Immediately I shuddered at the thought; therapy was for people so dumb that they couldn't handle their own problems. Timmy and I had an IQ above the average specialist and fairy. Why would we ask some shrink for help, I ask you?

We'd have to be desperate. Incredibly desperate.

Or, we could just call a good friend instead, who wouldn't label smart people such as ourselves under a derogatory term like "desperate" so readily.

"Hey, sweetie, what is it?"

"Flora, have you and Helia ever gotten into a fight?" I blurted out. The silence on the other end was deafening, and immediately I cursed my bluntness. "I mean, maybe not now, but once, at least, over something silly and pointless and…"

"Um, a few things, Tecna, but nothing unmanageable." I could almost hear her inner conflict traveling over the phone's static as she paused once more. "Is something wrong with you and Timmy? I thought you two were doing better?"

"Well, it's not so much us two as it is…me," I admitted. I glanced about to make sure no one was listening—paranoid fairy that I am—and confessed to the phone, "It's not such a terrible fuss, but I got angry with him over something trivial, and next thing I know I'm sleeping on the couch by my own choice. Me, Flora! I've put myself on the couch!"

"Tecna, are you okay? You sound like you need to lie down and think this over—"

"Tell that to Bloom," I mumbled. "I told her I was sick today."

"…You…what?" I think I heard a gasp on the other end. "Tecna, you've never skipped work without a valid reason. This is getting serious."

"I don't know about that—"

"Sweetie, you're pretending to be sick and kicking yourself out of your own bedroom. I'm worried. Listen, I'm going to talk with Helia, and we're going to figure out something for you and Timmy—something that will fix whatever's wrong between you. You love him, don't you?"

"…Very much," I sighed.

"Well, then, that settles it. I'll call you once we get an idea. Oh, and I won't tell anyone else; I'm sure you'd like to keep this between as few people as possible, right, Tecna?"

I do love Flora. Ever so much.

Phone hung up, I sat myself down at the kitchen table and smiled as I contemplated all the ways to channel my now-happy mood. I could tidy up the kitchen to surprise Timmy, or tell him I recorded the winning episode of So You Think You Can Invent, or I could bake more brownies and keep the good mood going.

I was about to do option three when something unexpected happened: the doorbell rang. "Who is it?" I called as I pushed the doorway's speaker button.

"Musa," a miserable voice replied. "Now let me in, Tec. It's raining rabbits and ducklings out here."

So I opened the door to see a fairy soaked from head-to-toe, her pigtails limp against her shoulders and her blue eyes afire with fury. More importantly, I found myself noticing the bag over her right shoulder—a traveling bag.

"Are you…alright?" I managed to say, when she looked anything but.

Musa gave me a wry grin, before handing me her bag and asking, "Do you miss the days when we used to share a dorm? Well, guess what. Riven kicked me out. So those days are back again."

End Note: So let's now tack on "drama" to the end of our majorly long genre list: it's now a Romance/Humor/Adventure/Drama/Thing. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to sneak in Western at some point if I'm really ambitious! (Uh, I'm kidding. Really.)