"So what is the problem this morning?"

"I've been puking my guts up, for hours."

"That's why you've been in the bathroom so long? Sweetie if you're sick just call in sick to work, and go back to bed. Why would you fret over a little stomach bug?"

"It's more than that," Ingrid admits.

"Do you think that it's food poisoning? Botulism," Wendy jokes.

"I wish."

"Wow, you are in an awful mood this morning."

"I can't help it."

"Are you always this cranky when you're sick?"

"Food poisoning, and botulism are self limiting."

"And potentially deadly," Wendy adds.

"So is this."

"Could you kill the suspense, and just tell me what the problem is?"

"I cast a spell on Barb."

"And?"

"What if there is such a thing as magical fallout?"

"Is it fallout, or splatter?"

"I don't think it matters what we call it. All I am saying is that I think it's a legitimate concept."

"What makes you think that?"

"I just do."

"Ingrid what kind of spell did you cast on Barb?"

"You know."

Wendy cocks her eyebrow, "A fertility spell? Ingrid I don't think that you have to worry about that."

"How can you be sure? Are you just saying that because of my limited lifespan, or do you have actual proof to back it up?"

"It's not possible. Those kinds of spells only enhance odds. Ingrid, you don't have to worry about it. Barb and her husband were trying to get pregnant. You just gave them a boost. I am fairly certain you haven't been trying to get pregnant."

"Of course not."

"Then why are you worried about it?"

"What if it was a possibility?"

"I think that it is outside of that realm," Wendy argues.

"How certain are you?"

"Why?"

"Would your opinion change if I told you that Adam and I..."

Wendy cuts her off, "Whatever the two of you did, or did not do, is not something that I need to hear about."

"Would it make it more possible?"

Wendy shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe, but I seriously doubt it."

"Then you can look."

"Look?" Wendy furrows her brow as she looks at Ingrid, "Look at what? Do you think that I can tell just by looking at you?"

Ingrid rolls her eyes, "No, on the counter."

Wendy rises from her seat on the edge of the bathtub. She moves towards the counter, and stares at the box. She turns and looks at Ingrid with a questioning look. She arches her eyebrow.

"You really think that it's possible?" She questions Ingrid.

"A couple of months ago I would have told you that magic wasn't possible."

"That is different."

"How?"

"There has always been magic."

"Please," Ingrid begs.

"Okay," Wendy nods in agreement. She takes a step closer to the counter. She looks at the cardboard box. She notes that the box has already been opened.

"I assume there is a test inside, or something?"

"Yes," Ingrid confirms.

"Did you already take it?"

"Half an hour ago," Ingrid reveals.

"Okay," Wendy backs away from the counter, and heads over to the back of the toilet. She pulls a tissue from the Kleenex box. She returns to the counter, with tissue in hand. She reaches inside of the box, for the test.

"What am I looking for? Pink, or blue? A positive or a negative?"

"It's a digital read out," Ingrid answers.

"No room for error? Gotcha."

"Can you just look already?"

Wendy nods, and pulls out the plastic stick. She carefully studies the result before her. She reads, and re-reads the result to herself. She places the stick on the bathroom counter on top of the tissue. She looks at Ingrid in the mirror.

"Well? What does it say?"

"Maybe you should go back to bed. You look tired."

"Wendy just tell me."

"How long have you been feeling sick?"

"Days, does it matter?"

"You should definitely go back to bed, and call in sick to work."

"Wendy!"

"When did you buy this?"

"This morning."

"What time did you get up this morning?"

"Three o'clock."

"Oh."

"Wendy just tell me what it says!" She insists.

"Does it really matter? You look so tired, I think you should just go back to bed."

"Just tell me!"

Wendy grabs the stick off the counter, and hands it to Ingrid.

"You should see for yourself," Wendy answers as she lowers herself onto the edge of the bathtub once again.

Ingrid looks at the plastic stick, and then looks at Wendy. Wendy stares at her, blankly.

"Now what?"

Wendy shrugs, "I don't know."

"You're supposed to know what to do," Ingrid responds on the verge of tears.