AN: I'm trying to clear some of the backlog of half-written fics I've got clogging up my flashdrive, so I'm posting some stuff. Also, please check out the poll on my profile so I can decide whether to post ALL the stuff.


By the time the woman walked back into Emily's store, she'd very nearly forgotten all about the chance encounter. At first, she'd thought about trying to look up the woman based on the few things she knew about her, but ultimately decided that would be too much like stalking. If anything was meant to come of it, the universe would bring her back. At least, that's what she told herself. (Of course, she didn't really believe in the power of the universe or fate or something bigger, so it was tantamount to believing she'd never see the mystery woman again.)

She was quite surprised then, when the little bells over the door chimed to admit the mystery woman. "It's you!" Emily blurted out, then winced. "I mean, you came back..."

"I had to return your book," she said with a shrug.

Emily smiled, her cheeks pinking slightly. "You, umm, you didn't give me your name, so I wasn't sure you would come back," she admitted.

"Well, if there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I respect books...more than some humans," she said with a little smirk.

With a little laugh, Emily nodded her agreement. She truly understood the sentiment. She tried not to be too obvious as she studied the way the woman's eyes glittered with mirth, her lips quirked up.

A beat.

"My name is Alex, by the way. Alex Miller." She held out a hand to shake.

Emily shook her hand – her grip was strong, stronger than it should have been. She wanted to say something – preferably something witty and flirtatious – but before she could come up with anything, someone else walked in, a precarious stack of books in their hands.

"Excuse me one moment," she said, then moved to help the person.

By the time she was finished, Alex Miller was gone...

"Dammit," Emily hissed. All she had left was the book, which meant that there was no reason for Alex to return. She flicked through the pages with a little sigh...until a little note fell out, slowly drifting to the floor.

Bending down to pick it up, she felt a small smile cross her lips.

Emily;

I wanted to make a witty comment about frogs and princes, but it felt perhaps too trite. I'll simply say this: we have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down. Consider this me, jumping.

Thank you for lending me the book.

Then, at the bottom, she'd written her phone number.


When Emily entered the apartment, Sergio skittered over to wind around her ankles in greeting. Technically speaking, Sergio was Clara's cat (or familiar, to be exact), but he greatly preferred Emily. Maybe because Emily was the one who remembered to feed him or maybe because Emily had never tried to perform a spell on him.

"Hey, Serg," she greeted, kneeling down to scratch between his ears. "Where's your mama?"

Sergio stared up at her with petulant eyes. Which usually meant that Clara was doing something liable to end with the apartment full of smoke and Sergio's whiskers singed off.

"Clara?" Emily called out.

"In here," she called out from her 'office', which was really more of a closet full of drying herbs and cauldron steam.

Emily groaned. "Come out here – my hair will smell like fucking skunk cabbage for weeks if I go in your work room."

She could almost hear the roll of her eyes from the next room, but Clara emerged anyway, hair puffed up from the steam. "What's up?" she asked. She raised a brow, studying Emily with pursed lips. "Mystery woman drop by the store?"

"You're a shitty witch, Clara, but you'd make a half decent psychic," Emily said with a teasing smirk.

"Bite your tongue or I'll curse your ass," Clara replied. "So, mystery woman?"

Emily went to the kitchen, pouring them both a glass of wine (and not the nettle wine that Clara had brewed which had put them both in the ER one night). "Her name is Alex Miller. We didn't have the chance to talk much...some guy came in trying to sell his 'valuable' collection of vampire erotica and by the time I was done with him, she was gone."

Clara's brows raised. "This is a terrible story, Em..."

Emily gave her a pointed look. "It gets better..." At Clara's expectant expression, she continued, "I was flipping through the book she borrowed...turns out she left me a note with her phone number."

"So, did you call her yet?" Clara asked eagerly. She loved to live vicariously through Emily when it came to her love life – witches were like nuns, they took a vow of chastity, though instead of saving themselves for God, they were married to Satan.

"Well, no, but..."

She frowned. "Why the hell not?"

With a big swig of wine, Emily bought herself a moment before she responded. "It's been a long time since I've dated anyone. I'm not sure I'm ready to trust someone again."

Clara groaned. "Not this again..." She may have been Emily's best friend, but that didn't mean she enjoyed listening to her wax poetic about her broken heart time and time again.

"Yes, this again," Emily insisted. "She broke my heart, okay?"

"You dated for like a month. I've had longer relationships with jugs of milk in the fridge."

Emily huffed a little. "What do you know about relationships?" she snapped, "You're married to the Devil."

Clara refused to entertain her attitude. "Call her, call her now," she ordered. She reached for Emily's phone where it lay on the counter as if to dial for her, but Emily snatched it away before she could grab it.

"But..."

Staring threateningly, Clara said firmly, "Call her of your own free will or I swear to Satan, I will psychically control you into doing it."

Emily narrowed her eyes, studying Clara as if trying to decide whether or not she believed the threat. "You wouldn't dare..." she said.

"Do you really want to test that theory?" she asked with a smirk.

Huffing again, Emily grumbled, "Fine. I'll call her."