Helga laid in her bed, wide awake. She needed breathing space from him. She needed to think, something that had been hard to do the last couple of nights. She sighed. Why was she letting him back into her life? Into her? Was she insane? She had a lot to think about.

Sex with him was . . . Amazing, which was odd, because she would admit she had been with more skilled lovers. But with Arnold, there was something more there . . .She groaned and rolled onto her stomach. She needed advise, and the best person she knew for that advise was going to be in town over the next week. She smiled. He was her first. An older man, a few years shy of her father's age, her father being how she had met him. He travelled a lot, and she had even skipped away to travel a few times with him. He was gentle, and caring, and intelligent. Not only was he fun in bed, he was also fun out of bed. She sighed. If only he were twenty years younger. She'd marry him. Even now she would. But he had shaken his head at her "girlish fantasies". It was her first real heartbreak, surpassed even by Arnold's not returning her feelings.

She rolled onto her back. She couldn't sleep. After having company for two nights, it was already lonely without him.

"Ugh, this is pathetic," she said disgustedly. "I'm pathetic! Two nights with a guy in my bed and suddenly I cant sleep without him there?"

She sighed, got up, grabbed her flimsy dressing gown, and made her way to his bedroom door. She stood outside it for a moment, hesitating. God, did she seem desperate? A nymphomaniac? She smiled. She'd once had that name flung at her, not that the flinger had minded. About to knock the door opened and there he stood, shirtless in flannelette pants.

"Helga?" he asked.

"I'm bored and can't sleep," she said, pushing past him, removing her dressing gown and flinging herself down on his bed. She leaned back on her forearms, shook out her blonde hair, and smiled at him. "Want some company?"

Arnold didn't need to be asked twice.

…..

"I go back to work next week," Arnold told her quietly. she sighed.

"Isn't it the woman who's supposed to spoil the afterglow with chit-chat, Arnold?" she asked, turning her head to see him. He smiled.

"I was expecting it," she said, snuggling back into him. "Where are you going to stay?"

She felt him shrug. "Maybe the old Boarding House."

"You still own that?" she asked.

"Yeah. Lucy was never comfortable with some many strangers, so we moved out," he said. "Never made sense to me to be paying rent in one house when I had a freehold house, but some people can't understand reason, they can only understand themselves."

They were both quiet before Helga sighed and got up.

"Where are you going?" Arnold asked.

"Inspiration struck," she said, quietly getting dressed then exiting the room.

…

"I'm going out to stock up on some supplies," Helga said, checking her pockets for her wallet. "I'll be back in about half an hour or so, okay?"

"Yep," Arnold said, going back to the book he was reading. A murder-mystery from Helga's shelf. Ten minutes later she came back in looking disturbed.

"What's wrong?" he asked her.

"Uh, there was an incident last night involving your car," she told him.

"My car?"

"Yeah . . ."

Arnold jumped up and went to check on his car. It took so long to get from apartment to car park and it was driving him insane! When he finally got there though he wished he hadn't. His car was completely trashed.

CHEATER had been spray painted across the back window and windscreen, all the other windows smashed in. The car had been badly keyed with insults and obscenities painted on it.

"They caught her on camera last night and called the police," Helga said coming up behind him as he touched the rear vision mirror that had been smashed. "They didn't know who it belonged to and were going to get it towed. I told them it was my friends."

"I can't believe she did this," he said.

"Seriously?" Helga asked. "I can. Look, Arnold, I like you and all, but if this kind of shit is going to become a regular thing I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

Arnold spun around and stared at her in surprise and confusion. Was she serious? How could she be serious? She'd come to him last night, not the other way around, yet she was willing to just kick him out? What? Just what?

"What?"

"Look, Arnold, I don't need drama in my life," Helga said. "I spent my life surrounded by drama, some by my own doing, I'll admit. But I'm away from it now, and I don't want it back. I don't need it. I don't want it."

Arnold just shook his head and looked back at his car.

"Look, I still need to go out," Helga said, touching his shoulder. "I'll see you when I get back."

Arnold watched her leave. What had he done?

He turned around and went back into her apartment, slamming the door. He grabbed his phone and was about to call Lucy and rip into her, but decided against it. That's what she wanted. And he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. He sat down on the couch and put his face in his hands. Wiping his hands down it he looked up and noticed that Helga had left the door to her studio open a bit. He looked at the front door, then back at the door. Helga was going to be a while. And he was curious as to her inspiration.

He also wanted to take his mind off his car and the expense it was going to be to get it fixed.

He slipped into the room and looked around. Helga had painted murals all over the walls. When he looked closer he found it wasn't just paint on the walls. She had painted leaves, materials, and other bits and pieces to the wall then painted over it. Another wall was done completely in spray paint. It was a beautiful scene of two small girls, backs to the veiwer, looking at a lake.

"Helga and Phoebe?" Arnold whispered, looking closer and realising that it indeed looked to be. He recognized the lake as the one at Tina Park. He looked over to where he guessed the bathroom was, then made his way over to it. The door was thirmly shut, but he opened it and realised that it was a darkroom. He quickly closed the door, turned on the light, and saw that she had completely customized the bathroom. He looked at some of the negatives and smirked. Who used negatives these days?

He turned around and left, closing the door behind him. He then saw two cupboards. She had painted them to look like trees, and even had "vines" made from some type of material handing down. Creative, she was. He opened the first one and saw she kept supplies in there. He closed it and opened the second one and took a step back from it, his jaw dropping.

In there was a small table covered with a cloth, with a wooden box, and pentacle, and goblet? A bowl of salt, insense and candles on it, with some dried herbs, dried flowers and a statue of a woman with a circle with crescents on each side, and another of an Egyptian cat - Bast - he remembered. Looking at the shelves above he saw small plastic containers with herbs and powder, with name stickers on them. He frowned when he saw a pink notebook. He took a quick look at the door before reaching out and taking it from the shelf. There was no name on it, so he opened it. Inside the a drawing of a woman reaching up to a full moon, but still no writing, so he flipped through some pages.

Spells, rituals, prayers, even some random little notes and drawings were in it. A Book of Shadows.

"Holy crap, she's a witch!" he gasped. He put it back and opened the box to find that there were different decks of cards wrapped in silk material squares.

"What are you doing?" he heard Helga demand from behind him. He dropped the deck he was currently holding and the tarot cards fell everywhere. "Arnold, answer me!"

"You're a witch," Arnold accused.

Helga stared at him.

"So? That doesn't give you the right to go through my things, and it's not illegal," she snapped. She strode forward and picked the cards up. "How could you do this?"

"Do this?" Arnold asked. "Me?"

"You completely violated my privacy after I gave you a place to stay, you betrayed my trust!" she yelled. "How could you do that?"

"Did you cast a spell on me?" he asked.

"What?" Helga asked, shocked. "What kind of spell would I ever place on you."

"I don't know, a love spell?" he snapped.

"Don't flatter yourself," Helga snapped back. "Never remove a persons free will. And especially never direct love spells on a particular person."

Arnold stared at the woman in front of him. Should he believe her?

"Please leave, Arnold," she said quietly. She looked up and took out her book. "If I cant trust you, you cant stay here."

Arnold looked down at his feet, then turned and left, slamming the door behind him. He walked to his room and sat down on his bed.

He needed to think.

…..

Helga sighed, unwrapping the cards he had obviously been handeling. She was going to need to cleanse everything. She sat down and sulked. How could he have done this? How dare he do this? She lifted the cloth and opened a little drawer where she kept her wand, athame and a few other sharper tools. He hadn't found them obviously.

"Okay, let's get started," she whispered to herself.

…

Arnold cooked dinner for both of them. Helga came out looking more sad than angry. She glanced at him, but looked away.

"So you didn't cast a spell on me?" he asked.

"No," she said. "I'm more into the religion than science of Wicca, though I will cast when the need arises."

Arnold offered her a plate.

"When did you start?" he asked.

"Middle School," she said. "I . . .I looked at it to make you fall in love with me. But when I mentioned it to a woman who turned out to be a High Priestess in a Coven, she advised me against it and laid the rules out for me."

"And?"

"And what, Arnold?" she said. "I was in a bad place. So I asked her for help with my parents."

"Did it work?" he asked.

"It didn't make them perfect, if that's what you mean, but there were changes in them," she said. "They were falling apart, and she advised me on a spell that would bring harmony and balance to the household. But told me I couldn't make them love each other. But love wasn't their problem. Let's leave it at that. Then I just got interested, read up on it, then studied under her with some other girls."

"Does Phoebe know?" he asked.

Helga nodded. "Phoebe was with me the whole way. She studied with me."

"So she's a witch too?" he asked.

Helga just smiled. "That's her business, Arnold."

He looked down.

"Look, if you want to leave, there's the door," she told him, pointing. "No one and nothing is keeping you here against your will."

Arnold looked at the door then back at her.

"Is that why you have had so many lovers?" he asked.

"No, I enjoy sex, Arnold, and I'm not ashamed of it," she stated. "I'm a consenting adult, with her own mind, and I'm always safe. I'm never stupid."

"What about your friends? Who we met at the bar?" he asked.

"A few of them. Darius and Gladys are," she admitted. "But again, that is their business."

Arnold looked down at his food that he was playing with, rather than eating. He didn't realise there were so many. And they were so normal. He frowned. You would never know by just talking to them, or being around them. They didn't bring it up, or talk about it. If Helga hadn't told him just now, he never would have known.

"Anything else?" Helga asked.

"Can you cast a spell on Lucy?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked frowning.

"I don't know, maybe make her stop loving me or something," Arnold said. "Make her fall in love with someone else."

Helga shook her head. "I can't make her do anything. But I could maybe come up with something to help her heart heal a little faster."

"Really?"

"But that doesn't mean she will stop loving you, Arnold."

"Oh," he said, looking down.

"Look, it's been a rough afternoon," she said. "I'm going to bed."

Arnold watched her rinse her plate off in the sink.

"Can I join you?" he asked.

"Not tonight, Arnold," she said. "I'm still hurt, and don't feel like your company tonight."